[Frontispiece: OLIVER AND FIERABRAS.]
STORIES
OF CHARLEMAGNE
AND THE TWELVE PEERS OF FRANCE
_FROM THE OLD ROMANCES_
By the
REV. A. J. CHURCH, M.A.
Formerly Professor of Latin in University College, London
Author of "Stories from Homer," etc.
With Illustrations by
GEORGE MORROW
LONDON
SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED
38, GREAT RUSSELL STREET
1902
PREFACE
I have endeavoured to tell in this volume the story of Charlemagne,
the Charlemagne, it must be understood, not of history, but of
Romance. The two personages are curiously different. Each writer of
a romance had naturally a hero of his own. As he had to exalt this
hero, he could hardly help depreciating the king. Charlemagne
suffers by comparison with Roland and Reynaud very much as, in the
Iliad, Agamemnon, the overlord of the Greeks, suffers by comparison
with the subordinate King, Achilles. The real Charlemagne was a very
great personality, one that impressed his age as deeply as any man
has ever done; in these stories he often appears petty, capricious,
and obstinate. Then the romance writers were Frenchmen, and they
make the great king a Frenchman, holding his court in Paris, and
surrounded by great French lords. They began to write when the air
was full of the crusading spirit, and their work is coloured
accordingly. The enemy is always a Saracen or a follower of Mahomet.
There could not be a more curious instance of this than is to be
found in the story of the death of Roland. In the romance
Charlemagne's rearguard is destroyed by an overpowering force of
Saracens. What really happened was that it was attacked, probably
for the sake of plundering the baggage, by a gathering of
mountaineers, who are called Gascons by the chroniclers, but were, in
fact, Basques. Then, again, we find the romance writers in sympathy
with the great feudatories, indicating the time before the French
monarchy had become consolidated, when the king at Paris had all that
he could do to hold his own against his powerful vassals, the Dukes
of Brittany and Burgundy, and the English king.
The Charlemagne romances, as translated by Lord Berners and William
Caxton, occupy twelve volumes in the Extra Series of the Early
English Text Society. Some of these are variants of the same story.
There is a romance of "Ferumbras," for instance, which gives
substantially the same tale as that which occupies eleven chapters in
this volume. "Huon of Bordeaux," again, fills four volumes in the
Extra Series. But the original _chanson_ is contained in one of the
four and is complete in itself. This, too, I have considerably
compressed and shortened. The same process has had to be applied to
all before they could be made acceptable to the readers of to-day. I
hope that they have not lost their life and colour and human interest.
The stories of which I have made use are "The Four Sons of Aymon"
(i.-xi.); "Ralph the Collier" (xii.-xiii.), a genuinely English
production, it would seem, as no French original has been found;
"Fierabras," taken from the "Lyf of Charles the Grete" (xiv.-xxiv.);
"The Song of Roland" (xxv.-xxxv.), and "Duke Huon of Bordeaux"
(xxxvi.-xl.). This has been put last in order, as it represents
Charlemagne grown old and weary of power. The death of the great
King is only mentioned as imminent in the romance which I have
followed; I have added an abridged account of it from the
contemporary biography written by Eginhard. The story of Huon is
peculiarly interesting to us because it introduces the fairy King
Oberon, who was to become so important a figure in English literature.
I have to express my obligations to the Introduction, written by Mr.
Sidney Lee to the first part of "Duke Huon of Bordeaux."
ALFRED J. CHURCH.
OXFORD, _July_ 17, 1902.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. THE SLAYING OF LOTHAIR
II. HOW THE DUKE BENES CAME BY HIS END
III. HOW IT FARED WITH THE BRETHREN
IV. THE COMING OF ROLAND
V. OF THE TREACHERY OF KING JOHN
VI. OF THE CRAFT OF MAWGIS
VII. MORE DEEDS OF MAWGIS
VIII. HOW MAWGIS BECAME A HERMIT
IX. OF WHAT BEFELL AT MONTALBAN
X. HOW PEACE WAS MADE
XI. OF REYNAUD'S END
XII. HOW RALPH ENTERTAINED THE KING
XIII. HOW RALPH WENT TO COURT
XIV. HOW FIERABRAS DEFIED KING CHARLES
XV. HOW OLIVER FOUGHT WITH FIERABRAS
XVI. HOW OLIVER AND OTHERS WERE TAKEN PRISONERS
XVII. HOW OLIVER AND HIS COMRADES FARED
XVIII. OF THE BRIDGE OF MANTRYBLE
XIX. OF THE DOINGS OF FLORIPAS
XX. OF THE DOINGS OF THE FRENCH KNIGHTS
XXI. OF GUY OF BURGUNDY
XXII. OF RICHARD OF NORMANDY
XXIII. HOW THE BRIDGE MANTRYBLE WAS WON
XXIV. OF THE END OF BALAN THE ADMIRAL
XXV. HOW GANELON WENT ON AN ERRAND TO KING MARSILAS
XXVI. THE TREASON OF GANELON
XXVII. OF THE PLOT AGAINST ROLAND
XXVIII. HOW THE HEATHEN AND THE FRENCH PREPARED FOR BATTLE
XXIX. THE BATTLE
XXX. HOW ROLAND SOUNDED HIS HORN
XXXI. HOW OLIVER WAS SLAIN
XXXII. HOW ARCHBISHOP TURPIN DIED
XXXIII. THE DEATH OF ROLAND
XXXIV. HOW CHARLEMAGNE SOUGHT VENGEANCE
XXXV. OF THE PUNISHMENT OF GANELON
XXXVI. HOW KING CHARLES SENT HUON ON AN ERRAND
XXXVII. HOW HUON MET WITH KING OBERON
XXXVIII. OF THE END OF THE FALSE DUKE MACAIRE
XXXIX. HOW HUON, HAVING SLAIN A GIANT, CAME TO BABYLON
XL. HOW HUON RETURNED, HIS ERRAND FULFILLED
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
OLIVER AND FIERABRAS ... Frontispiece
REYNAUD KNEELING TO ROLAND
REYNAUD AND BAYARD
RALPH IN THE PALACE OF CHARLEMAGNE
BLOWING THE GREAT COAL
THE AMBASSADORS OF KING MARSILAS
ON THE FIELD OF RONCESVALLES
HUON MEETING WITH OBERON
STORIES OF CHARLEMAGNE
AND THE TWELVE PEERS OF FRANCE
CHAPTER I
THE SLAYING OF LOTHAIR
King Charles held a great court in his capital city of Paris at the
Feast of Pentecost. Thither came the Twelve Peers of France, and
many other men of note, besides strangers from Germany, England, and
other realms. One of the chief of the Frenchmen was Aymon, Duke of
Ardennes, who brought with him his four sons, to wit, Reynaud, Alard,
Guichard, and Richard. All these four were marvellously fair, witty,
and valiant; but the fairest, wittiest, and most valiant was Reynaud,
the eldest born. There was not in the world a man of so great
strength and stature. It is of him and his brothers that this tale
is told.
King Charles stood up, and said, "Brethren and friends, you know that
by your help I have conquered many lands, and brought many pagans to
confess the Christian faith. You know also that this has not been
done without grievous loss on our part, and verily had not been done
at all but for succour that we looked not for. But the succour that
we looked for, that we had not, and notably from Duke Benes of
Aygremont. This, then, is my purpose. I will send to Duke Benes,
bidding him attend me this summer. And if he will not come, then I
will besiege him in his town of Aygremont. And when he shall come
into my hands, I will hang him, and slay his son Mawgis, and cause
that discourteous woman, his wife, to be burnt with fire."
Duke Naymes said, "Be not so hot, my lord King. Send a message to
the Duke by some prudent man, and when you shall have received his
answer, then take counsel what you shall do."
"That is good counsel," said the King. But when he called for a
messenger, no man answered, for many were of the Duke's kindred.
Then he called his eldest son Lothair, and said to him, "Go to this
Duke, and bid him come to me with his men-at-arms by mid-summer next,
or else I will besiege his city of Aygremont."
The next day Lothair departed, having a hundred knights with him,
armed for battle. As they went they uttered many threatenings
against the Duke, if he should not submit himself to the King.
It so chanced that a spy heard them talk in this fashion, and, making
all haste, came to the Duke and told him. "There come messengers,"
he said, "from King Charles, threatening terrible things, and the
King's own son is with them." Then the Duke asked his lords what he
should do. One of them, Sir Simon by name, a good man and a wise,
said to him, "Receive the King's messengers honourably. It is not
well for a man, how great soever he be, to fight against his
sovereign lord. Many of your kinsmen have so dared, yet do not you."
Said the Duke, "I am not fallen so low that I should follow such
counsel. Have I not three brothers, princes all of them, that will
help me against the King, and four nephews also, sons of Aymon, that
are stout and valiant men?" So he would not listen to Sir Simon; no,
nor yet to his wife the Duchess, though she was urgent with him to
speak peaceably to the King's messengers.
By this time Lothair and his knights were come to the town of
Aygremont. The Prince said, "See what a fortress is there! How
strong are the walls! See, too, the river running at their base.
There is no stronger place in Christendom. It cannot be taken by
force, but haply by famishing it may be taken." One of his knights
said to him, "My lord, you say true. This is a mighty prince, and he
has a strong castle. It would be well if you could make him to be of
good accord with your father." "You speak well," answered Lothair,
"nevertheless if the Duke shall say anything that shall displease us,
he shall be sorry therefor." But the knight said softly to himself,
"This is foolishness, and we shall pay for it with our lives."
So Lothair and his men came to the castle, and knocked at the gate.
"Who are you?" said the porter. "We be friends," answered Lothair,
"and we bring a message from the King." "Wait awhile," said the
porter, "till I tell the Duke." So the porter went to the Duke and
said, "There are come hither a hundred knights, with the King's
eldest son at their head. Shall I open the gate?" "Open it," said
the Duke, "we can hold our own, yea though the King himself should
come with all his men." So the porter hasted to open the gate. But
the Duke said to his lords, "Here comes the King's eldest son; if he
speak wisely to us, wisely will we answer him; but if not, he shall
not go free."
Then Lothair and his knights were brought into the hall, where the
Duke sat among his lords, having the Duchess his wife by him and
before him his son Mawgis. Now Mawgis was a great wizard.
Lothair said, "God keep King Charles and confound Duke Benes! My
father says, 'Come to Paris with five hundred knights, and make good
your want of service in the parts of Lombardy, where, for lack of
your help, many valiant men came by their death. But if you fail in
this thing, you shall surely be hanged, your wife burned with fire,
and all your house destroyed.'"
Then might any one have seen the Duke change colour for anger. When
he could speak, he said, "I will not go to the King. I hold of him
neither land nor fortress; or rather I will go and waste his land
till I come to Paris itself."
"Dare you so speak?" cried Prince Lothair, in a loud voice. "You
know well that you are the King's man. I counsel you to do his
bidding. Else you shall be hanged till the winds of heaven dry your
bones."
When the Duke heard this he stood up on his feet in a great rage,
crying to Lothair that it was an evil day for him on which he came to
the town of Aygremont. Not a word of counsel would he take, when
some of his knights would put him in mind of the King's might, and of
how he was in truth the King's man, holding of him this very town of
Aygremont. "Hold your peace!" he cried. "Never will I consent to
hold aught of this man so long as I can mount a horse or hold a
spear." And he called upon his lords to lay hold on Lothair, and
they durst not disobey him, but ran upon Lothair and the rest of King
Charles's men. Then began as sore a battle as was ever fought in
this world. For not only did the Duke's men that were within the
palace assail the Frenchmen, but the inhabitants of the town, both
merchants and craftsmen, hearing the uproar, beset the gates. These
gates, indeed, the Frenchmen kept with great courage; but they were
few in number, and the day went sorely against them. In the end,
after that Prince Lothair had been slain by the Duke himself, there
remained but ten of the hundred knights alive. These the Duke
spared, on this condition, that they should carry his message to the
King, and the message was this: "I will do no homage for my land, nor
pay one penny of tribute. Rather I will come with forty thousand
men, and waste your land, and burn your fair city of Paris." After
this he delivered to them the body of Lothair, laying it in a cart
drawn by two horses. And when the ten knights were quit of the town,
and were come into the fields, they began to weep and lament, not for
Lothair only, but also for themselves, for they feared the King. So
they went on their way to Paris.
Meanwhile King Charles at Paris was not a little troubled. "I fear
me much," he said to his lords, "lest some evil have befallen my son,
for this Duke Benes is a savage man and a cruel." Then answered the
Duke Aymon, "If the Duke shall do you any wrong, I will help you with
all my heart. Here also are my four sons who will go with me."
"That is well spoken," said the King. "Bring your sons hither." So
the Duke brought them, and the King, when he saw them, loved them
all, but Reynaud, who was the eldest, more than the other three. He
said to his steward, "Bring hither the arms of King Certes, whom I
slew at Pampeluna, and put them on him." And Ogier the Dane bound on
his spurs, and the King himself girded him with his sword. This
done, he dubbed him knight, saying, "God increase thee in goodness,
honour, and worthiness!"
Reynaud, it should be known, had a very noble horse, Bayard by name,
that had been given him by his cousin Mawgis. Never was there such a
horse in the world, save only Bucephalus, that was the horse of
Alexander of Macedon. When he was mounted on him he seemed such a
knight as could scarce be matched in France or any other land. When
they jousted in the lists, for the King held a tournament at St.
Victor that was near to Paris, not one did so well as Reynaud.
The tournament being ended, the King returned to his palace in Paris.
The next morning he said to his lords, Ogier the Dane, and the Duke
Naymes and Turpin the Archbishop, "I am in fear for my son Lothair;
he tarries long on this journey. I dreamed also last night that the
Duke Benes had slain him." The Duke Naymes said, "Put no trust in
dreams, for they are naught." The King answered, "Nevertheless, if
the Duke have done this thing, he shall die."
While they were yet speaking, there came a messenger upon a horse,
faint and weary and sorely wounded, and the King saw him pass the
window where he stood. Then the King ran lightly down to the gate,
his lords following him. When the messenger saw the King he saluted
him in a low voice, and told him all that had befallen. And when he
had ended his words, he fell to the ground in a swoon for grief and
the pain of his wounds.
Great was the King's sorrow. He wrung his hands and tore his beard
and his hair. His lords sought to comfort him, and Duke Naymes said,
"Now bury your son with great honour at St. Germaine's, and when you
have done this, gather together your army, and march against this
Duke Benes."
Then the King and his lords rode forth from Paris, and when they had
gone the space of two miles, they met the cart wherein was the body
of Prince Lothair. And when the King saw the cart, he lighted down
from his horse, and lifted the cloth that was upon the dead man. And
when he saw how the head was severed from the body and the face sore
disfigured with wounds he cried aloud. And he said, "Oh, Lothair, my
son, you were a fair and gentle knight. May God of His mercy receive
you into Paradise!" Then his lords bore him up on one side and the
other, and brought him to St. Germaine's. There they buried Prince
Lothair with all honour.