2 posts tagged “christian iv”
As the Danish king
Christian IV lay dying in Rosenborg castle, he looked up at a topless
Hera surrounded by cherubs. Hera looks more like a voluptuous
Renaissance Italian woman than like the haughty goddess of
mythology—a delightful
last vision for a man who delighted in life's pleasures.
We spent the afternoon yesterday in Rosenborg castle, Christian IV's Dutch Renaissance pleasure house. Christian lived from 1577 to 1648, and ruled just after Elizabeth I and at the same time as Gustavus Adolphus. Though he was not well educated he spoke several languages, loved conversation and was eager to learn from others, and was generally very curious about the world. He enjoyed the good life and was known as a womanizer and drinker. In his chamber at Rosenborg is a primitive telephone—a tube that ran to his wife's chamber and another that ran to the wine cellar—he could meet his needs at a moment's notice. Still, he had a reputation as hard-working, starting the day early, even after a night of partying. Christian IV oversaw the growth of the Danish navy, sent an expedition to seek the northwest passage, sent an admiral to Ceylon where the admiral declared a Danish colony in Tranquebar, and Christian himself loved sailing and made trips around Denmark and Norway, then part of Denmark, to check on the state of affairs.
He loved music and led the development of an organ culture in Denmark. Dietrich Buxtehude, the great organist and composer, was the organist and music director in Helsingor as a young man, not long after Christian IV's reign. Christian had pipes built in Rosenborg that would carry the music being played by musicians in the basement up into rooms on the main floor.
Perhaps to make up for his bad treatment of Tycho Brahe—causing Brahe to exile himself to Prague—and also because of his interest in astronomy, Christian built the Round Tower, an observatory in downtown Copenhagen.
And Christian had a lively sense of humor. At Rosenborg we saw a special chair for guests. When they sat down, “concealed tentacles in the arm rests” would trap the visitor. Then, at a sign from Christian a servant might pour water into a funnel at the top of the chair. The water then spurted from holes in the arm rests, dousing the visitor in an unseemly way. When the visitor rose from the chair, a horn in the seat—an early version of a rubber chicken—would toot. Ah, the indignity!
Christian's
life ended sadly, as he had involved Denmark in the Thirty Years'
War, draining the coffers and gaining nothing politically.
Nevertheless, he's the most beloved of the Danish royalty and it's
easy to see why. In his later portraits you see a man who ate too
much, dressed dashingly, and met the world with a twinkle in his eye.
*I found the photo of Christian IV at Flickr; it was taken by somebody called jconn.
To the Elephant, who though it might be at risk, has nevertheless a secured place among the Greats
I've just discovered that old Dwight D.
(whose birthday we share with gone e.e.)
was a knight of the Order
of the Elephant.
When this happened, and by whom
(the whom who hung the paraphernalia), I wouldn't presume
to guess. A regent of the King
no doubt.
What isn't clear, now let's be firm
is just why Christian IV would honor the pachyderm
by hanging carved tusks
on stranger's necks.
It's probable that here by the Baltic Sea
the elephant symbolized wealth and power (not eccentricity,
as it seems to us
today.)
Dull old Ike needed something less dismal,
less like his Orders of Merit, of George, of the Bath, of Solomon, of Leopold, of Yun Fei, of the White Lion, of the Aztec Eagle, of St. Olav, of Victory, and from Egypt, of Ismal
to leave in a case
for posterity.
