when they perceived Charlemagne advancing to their assistance. The
combat now became general, and was more terrible than ever.
Charlemagne had overthrown Corsuble, the commander of the Saracens,
and had drawn his famous sword, Joyeuse, to cut off his head, when two
Saracen knights set upon him at once, one of whom slew his horse, and
the other overthrew the emperor on the sand. Perceiving by the eagle
on his casque who he was, they dismounted in haste to give him his
death-blow. Never was the life of the emperor in such peril. But
Ogier, who saw him fall, flew to his rescue. Though embarrassed with
the Oriflamme, he pushed his horse against one of the Saracens and
knocked him down; and with his sword dealt the other so vigorous a
blow that he fell stunned to the earth. Then helping the emperor to
rise, he remounted him on the horse of one of the fallen knights.
"Brave and generous Alory!" Charles exclaimed, "I owe to you my honor
and my life!" Ogier made no answer; but, leaving Charlemagne
surrounded by a great many of the knights who had flown to his succor,
he plunged into the thickest ranks of the enemy, and carried the
Oriflamme, followed by a gallant train of youthful warriors, till the
standard of Mahomet turned in retreat and the Infidels sought safety
in their intrenchments.
As the good Archbishop Turpin took his mitre and his crosier, and
intoned Te Deum, Ogier, covered with blood and dust, came to lay the
Oriflamme at the feet of the emperor. He knelt at the feet of
Charlemagne, who embraced him, calling him Alory, while Turpin, from
the height of the altar, blessed him with all his might. Then young
Orlando, son of the Count Milone and nephew of Charlemagne, no longer
able to endure this misapprehension, threw down his helmet, and ran to
unlace Ogier's, while the other young men laid aside theirs. It would
be difficult to express the surprise, the admiration, and the
tenderness of the emperor and his peers. Charlemagne folded Ogier in
his arms, and the happy fathers of those brave youths embraced them
with tears of joy. "My dear Ogier! I owe you my life! My sword leaps
to touch your shoulder, and those of your brave young friends." At
these words he drew that famous sword, Joyeuse, and, while Ogier and
the rest knelt before him, conferred on them the order of knighthood.
The young Orlando and his cousin Oliver could not refrain from falling
upon Ogier's neck and pledging with him that brotherhood in arms, so
dear and so sacred to the knights of old times; but Charlot, the
emperor's son, at the sight of the glory with which Ogier had covered
himself, conceived the blackest jealousy and hate.
The rest of the day and the next were spent in the rejoicings of the
army. Duke Namo presented them with golden spurs, Charlemagne himself
girded on their swords. But what was his astonishment when he examined
that intended for Ogier! The loving fairy, Morgana, had had the art
to change it, and to substitute one of her own procuring, and when
Charlemagne drew it out of the scabbard, these words appeared written
on the steel: "My name is Cortana, of the same steel and temper as
Joyeuse and Durindana." The emperor saw that a superior power watched
over the destiny of Ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and
Ogier promised him the devotion of a son.
The Saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when Carahue,
King of Mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown by Ogier,
determined to challenge him to single combat. With that view, he
assumed the dress of a herald, resolved to carry his own message. He
began by passing the warmest eulogium upon the knight who bore the
Oriflamme on the day of the battle, and concluded by saying that
Carahue, King of Mauritania, respected that knight so much that he
challenged him to the combat.
Ogier had risen to reply, when he was interrupted by Charlot, who said
that the gage of the King of Mauritania could not fitly be received by
a vassal, living in captivity; by which he meant Ogier, who was at
that time serving as hostage for his father. Fire flashed from the
eyes of Ogier, but the presence of the emperor restrained his speech,
and he was calmed by the kind looks of Charlemagne, who said, with an
angry voice, "Silence, Charlot! By the life of Bertha, my queen, he
who has saved my life is as dear to me as yourself. Ogier," he
continued, "you are no longer a hostage. Herald! report my answer to
your master, that never does knight of my court refuse a challenge on
equal terms. Ogier the Dane accepts of his, and I myself am his
security."
Carahue, profoundly bowing, replied, "My lord, I was sure that the
sentiments of so great a sovereign as yourself would be worthy of your
high and brilliant fame; I shall report your answer to my master, who
I know admires you, and unwillingly takes arms against you." Then,
turning to Charlot, whom he did not know as the son of the emperor, he
continued, "As for you, sir knight, if the desire of battle inflames
you, I have it in charge from Sadon, cousin of the King of Mauritania,
to give the like defiance to any French knights who will grant him the
honor of the combat."
Chariot, inflamed with rage and vexation at the public reproof which
he had just received, hesitated not to deliver his gage. Carahue
received it with Ogier's, and it was agreed that the combat should be
on the next day, in a meadow environed by woods and equally distant
from both armies.
During the night Charlot collected some knights unworthy of the name;
he made them swear to avenge his injuries, armed them in black armor,
and sent them to lie in ambush in the wood, with orders to make a
pretended attack upon the whole party, but in fact to lay heavy hands
upon Ogier and the two Saracens.
At the dawn of day Sadon and Carahue, attended only by two pages to
carry their spears, took their way to the appointed meadow; and
Charlot and Ogier repaired thither also, but by different paths. Ogier
advanced with a calm air, saluted courteously the two Saracen knights,
and joined them in arranging the terms of combat.
While this was going on, the perfidious Charlot remained behind and
gave his men the signal to advance. That cowardly troop issued from
the wood and encompassed the three knights. All three were equally
surprised at the attack, but neither of them suspected the other to
have any hand in the treason. Seeing the attack made equally upon them
all, they united their efforts to resist it, and made the most forward
of the assailants bite the dust. Cortana fell on no one without
inflicting a mortal wound, but the sword of Carahue was not of equal
temper and broke in his hands. At the same instant his horse was
slain, and Carahue fell, without a weapon and entangled with his
prostrate horse. Ogier, who saw it, ran to his defence, and, leaping
to the ground, covered the prince with his shield, supplied him with
the sword of one of the fallen ruffians, and would have had him mount
his own horse. At that moment Charlot, inflamed with rage, pushed his
horse upon Ogier, knocked him down, and would have run him through
with his lance if Sadon, who saw the treason, had not sprung upon him
and thrust him back. Carahue leapt lightly upon the horse which Ogier
presented him, and had time only to exclaim, "Brave Ogier, I am no
longer your enemy, I pledge to you an eternal friendship," when
numerous Saracen knights were seen approaching, having discovered the
treachery, and Charlot with his followers took refuge in the wood.
The troop which advanced was commanded by Dannemont, the exiled King
of Denmark, whom Geoffroy, Ogier's father, had driven from his throne
and compelled to take refuge with the Saracens. Learning who Ogier
was he instantly declared him his prisoner, in spite of the urgent
remonstrances and even threats of Carahue and Sadon, and carried him,
under a strong guard, to the Saracen camp. Here he was at first
subjected to the most rigorous captivity, but Carahue and Sadon
insisted so vehemently on his release, threatening to turn their arms
against their own party if it was not granted, while Dannemont as
eagerly opposed the measure, that Corsuble, the Saracen commander,
consented to a middle course, and allowed Ogier the freedom of his
camp, upon his promise not to leave it without permission.
Carahue was not satisfied with this partial concession. He left the
city next morning, proceeded to the camp of Charlemagne, and demanded
to be led to the emperor. When he reached his presence he dismounted
from his horse, took off his helmet, drew his sword, and, holding it
by the blade, presented it to Charlemagne as he knelt before him.
"Illustrious prince," he said, "behold before you the herald who
brought the challenge to your knights from the King of Mauritania. The
cowardly old King Dannemont has made the brave Ogier prisoner, and has
prevailed on our general to refuse to give him up. I come to make
amends for this ungenerous conduct by yielding myself, Carahue, King
of Mauritania, your prisoner."
Charlemagne, with all his peers, admired the magnanimity of Carahue;
he raised him, embraced him, and restored to him his sword. "Prince,"
said he, "your presence and the bright example you afford my knights
consoles me for the loss of Ogier. Would to God you might receive our
holy faith, and be wholly united with us." All the lords of the court,
led by Duke Namo, paid their respects to the King of Mauritania.
Charlot only failed to appear, fearing to be recognized as a traitor;
but the heart of Carahue was too noble to pierce that of Charlemagne
by telling him the treachery of his son.
Meanwhile the Saracen army was rent by discord. The troops of Carahue
clamored against the commander-in-chief because their king was left in
captivity. They even threatened to desert the cause, and turn their
arms against their allies. Charlemagne pressed the siege vigorously,
till at length the Saracen leaders found themselves compelled to
abandon the city and betake themselves to their ships. A truce was
made; Ogier was exchanged for Carahue, and the two friends embraced
one another with vows of perpetual brotherhood. The Pope was
reestablished in his dominions, and Italy being tranquil, Charlemagne
returned, with his peers and their followers, to France.
A ROLAND FOR AN OLIVER
By Thomas Bulfinch
Guerin de Montglave held the lordship of Vienne, subject to
Charlemagne. He had quarrelled with his sovereign, and Charles laid
siege to his city, having ravaged the neighboring country. Guerin was
an aged warrior, but relied for his defence upon his four sons and two
grandsons, who were among the bravest knights of the age. After the
siege had continued two months, Charlemagne received tidings that
Marsilius, King of Spain, had invaded France, and, finding himself
unopposed, was advancing rapidly in the Southern provinces. At this
intelligence, Charles listened to the counsel of his peers, and
consented to put the quarrel with Guerin to the decision of Heaven, by
single combat between two knights, one of each party, selected by
lot. The proposal was acceptable to Guerin and his sons. The names of
the four, together with Guerin's own, who would not be excused, and of
the two grandsons, who claimed their lot, being put into a helmet,
Oliver's was drawn forth, and to him, the youngest of the grandsons,
was assigned the honor and the peril of the combat. He accepted the
award with delight, exulting in being thought worthy to maintain the
cause of his family. On Charlemagne's side Roland was the designated
champion, and neither he nor Oliver knew who his antagonist was to be.
They met on an island in the river Rhone, and the warriors of both
camps were ranged on either shore, spectators of the battle. At the
first encounter both lances were shivered, but both riders kept their
seats, immovable. They dismounted, and drew their swords. Then ensued
a combat which seemed so equal, that the spectators could not form an
opinion as to the probable result. Two hours and more the knights
continued to strike and parry, to thrust and ward, neither showing any
sign of weariness, nor ever being taken at unawares. At length Roland
struck furiously upon Oliver's shield, burying Durindana in its edge
so deeply that he could not draw it back, and Oliver, almost at the
same moment, thrust so vigorously upon Roland's breastplate that his
sword snapped off at the handle. Thus were the two warriors left
weaponless. Scarcely pausing a moment, they rushed upon one another,
each striving to throw his adversary to the ground, and failing in
that, each snatched at the other's helmet to tear it away. Both
succeeded, and at the same moment they stood bareheaded face to face,
and Roland recognized Oliver, and Oliver, Roland. For a moment they
stood still; and the next, with open arms, rushed into one another's
embrace. "I am conquered," said Roland. "I yield me," said Oliver.
The people on the shore knew not what to make of all this. Presently
they saw the two late antagonists standing hand in hand, and it was
evident the battle was at an end. The knights crowded round them, and
with one voice hailed them as equals in glory. If there were any who
felt disposed to murmur that the battle was left undecided, they were
silenced by the voice of Ogier the Dane, who proclaimed aloud that all
had been done that honor required, and declared that he would maintain
that award against all gainsayers.
The quarrel with Guerin and his sons being left undecided, a truce was
made for four days, and in that time, by the efforts of Duke Namo on
the one side, and of Oliver on the other, a reconciliation was
effected. Charlemagne, accompanied by Guerin and his valiant family,
marched to meet Marsilius, who hastened to retreat across the
frontier.
THE TREASON OF GANELON
By Sir George W. Cox
Charles the great king had tarried with his host seven years in Spain,
until he conquered all the land down to the sea, and his banners were
riddled through with battle-marks. There remained neither burg nor
castle the walls whereof he brake not down, save only Zaragoz, a
fortress on a rugged mountain top, so steep and strong that he could
not take it. There dwelt the pagan King Marsilius, who feared not God.
King Marsilius caused his throne to be set in his garden beneath an
olive-tree, and thither he summoned his lords and nobles to
council. Twenty thousand of his warriors being gathered about him, he
spake to his dukes and counts saying, "What shall we do? Lo! these
seven years the great Charles has been winning all our lands till only
Zaragoz remains to us. We are too few to give him battle, and, were it
not so, man for man we are no match for his warriors. What shall we do
to save our lands?"
Then up and spake Blancandrin, wily counsellor--"It is plain we must
be rid of this proud Charles; Spain must be rid of him. And since he
is too strong to drive out with the sword, let us try what promises
will do. Send an ambassage and say we will give him great treasure in
gold and cattle, hawk and hound; say we will be his vassals, do him
service at his call; say we will be baptized, forsake our gods and
call upon his God: say anything, so long as it will persuade him to
rise up with his host and quit our land."
And all the pagans said, "It is well spoken."
Charles the emperor held festival before Cordova, and rejoiced, he and
his host, because they had taken the city. They had overthrown its
walls; they had gotten much booty, both of gold and silver and rich
raiment; they had put cables round about its towers and dragged them
down. Not a pagan remained in the city; for they were all either slain
or turned Christian. The emperor sat among his knights in a green
pleasance. Round about him were Roland his nephew, captain of his
host, and Oliver, and Duke Sampson; proud Anseis, Geoffrey of Anjou
the king's standard-bearer, and fifteen thousand of the noblest born
of gentle France. Beneath a pine-tree where a rose-briar twined, sat
Charles the Great, ruler of France, upon a chair of gold. White and
long was his beard; huge of limb and hale of body was the king, and of
noble countenance. It needed not that any man should ask his fellow,
saying, "Which is the king?" for all might plainly know him for the
ruler of his people.
When the messengers of King Marsilius came into his presence, they
knew him straightway, and lighted quickly down from their mules and
came meekly bending at his feet. Then said Blancandrin, "God save the
king, the glorious king whom all men ought to worship. My master King
Marsilius sends greeting to the great Charles, whose power no man can
withstand, and he prays thee make peace with him. Marsilius offers
gifts of bears and lions and leashed hounds, seven hundred camels and
a thousand moulted falcons, of gold and silver so much as four hundred
mules harnessed to fifty chariots can draw, with all his treasure of
jewels. Only make the peace and get thee to Aachen, and my master will
meet thee there at the feast of St. Michael; and he will be thy man
henceforth in service and worship, and hold Spain of thee; thou shalt
be his lord, and thy God shall be his God."
The emperor bowed his head the while he thought upon the purport of
the message; for he never spake a hasty word, and never went back from
a word once spoken. Having mused awhile he raised his head and
answered, "The King Marsilius is greatly my enemy. In what manner
shall I be assured that he will keep his covenant?" The messengers
said, "Great king, we offer hostages of good faith, the children of our
noblest. Take ten or twenty as it seemeth good to thee; but treat them
tenderly, for verily at the feast of St. Michael our king will redeem
his pledge, and come to Aachen to be baptized and pay his homage and
his tribute."
Then the king commanded a pavilion to be spread wherein to lodge them
for the night. On the morrow, after they had taken their journey home,
he called his barons to him and showed them after what manner the
messengers had spoken, and asked their counsel.
With one voice the Franks answered, "Beware of King Marsilius."
Then spake Roland and said, "Parley not with him, trust him not.
Remember how he took and slew Count Basant and Count Basil, the
messengers whom we sent to him aforetime on a peaceful errand. Seven
years have we been in Spain, and now only Zaragoz holds out against
us. Finish what has been so long a-doing and is well nigh done. Gather
the host; lay siege to Zaragoz with all thy might, and conquer the
last stronghold of the pagans; so win Spain, and end this long and
weary war."
But Ganelon drew near to the king and spake: "Heed not the counsel of
any babbler, unless it be to thine own profit. What has Marsilius
promised? Will he not give up his gods, himself, his service and his
treasure? Could man ask more? Could we get more by fighting him? How
glorious would it be to go to war with a beaten man who offers thee
his all! How wise to wage a war to win what one can get without!
Roland is wholly puffed up with the pride of fools. He counsels battle
for his glory's sake. What careth he how many of us be slain in a
causeless fight, if he can win renown? Roland is a brave man; brave
enough and strong enough to save his skin, and so is reckless of our
lives."
Then said Duke Naymes (a better vassal never stood before a king),
"Ganelon has spoken well, albeit bitterly. Marsilius is altogether
vanquished, and there is no more glory in fighting him. Spurn not him
who sues at thy feet for pity. Make peace, and let this long war end."
And all the Franks answered, "The counsel is good."
So Charles said, "Who will go up to Zaragoz to King Marsilius, and
bear my glove and staff and make the covenant with him?"
Duke Naymes said straightway, "I will go;" but the king answered,
"Nay, thou shalt not go. Thou art my right hand in counsel and I
cannot spare thee." Then said Roland, "Send me." But Count Oliver, his
dear companion, said, "What! send thee upon a peaceful errand?
Hot-blooded as thou art, impatient of all parleying? Nay, good Roland,
thou wouldst spoil any truce. Let the king send me."
Charles stroked his long white beard and said, "Hold your peace, both
of you; neither shall go."
Then arose Archbishop Turpin and said, "Let me go. I am eager to see
this pagan Marsilius and his heathen band. I long to baptize them all,
and make their everlasting peace."
The king answered, "All in good time, zealous Turpin; but first let
them make their peace with me: take thy seat. Noble Franks, choose me
a right worthy man to bear my message to Marsilius."
Roland answered, "Send Ganelon, my stepfather." And the Franks said,
"Ganelon is the man, for there is none more cunning of speech than
he."
Now when the coward Ganelon heard these words, he feared greatly, well
knowing the fate of them which had gone aforetime as messengers to
Marsilius; and his anger was kindled against Roland insomuch that the
expression of his countenance changed in sight of all. He arose from
the ground and throwing the mantle of sable fur from his neck, said
fiercely to Roland, "Men know full well that I am thy step-father, and
that there is no love between us; but thou art a fool thus openly to
show thy malice. If God but give me to return alive, I will requite
thee."
Then he came bending to King Charles, "Rightful emperor, I am ready to
go up to Zaragoz, albeit no messenger ever returned thence alive. But
I pray thee for my boy Baldwin, who is yet young, that thou wilt care
for him. Is he not the son of thy sister whom I wedded? Let him have
my lands and honors, and train him up among thy knights if I return no
more."
Charles answered, "Be not so faint-hearted; take the glove and baton,
since the Franks have awarded it to thee, and go, do my bidding."
Ganelon said, "Sire, this is Roland's doing. All my life have I hated
him; and I like no better his companion, Oliver. And as for the twelve
champion peers of France, who stand by him in all he does, and in
whose eyes Roland can do no wrong, I defy them all, here and now."
Charles smoothed his snowy beard and said, "Verily Count Ganelon thou
hast an ill humor. Wert thou as valiant of fight as thou art of
speech, the twelve peers perchance might tremble. But they laugh. Let
them. Thy tongue may prove of better service to us upon this mission
than their swords." Then the king drew off the glove from his right
hand, and held it forth; but Ganelon, when he went to take it, let it
fall upon the ground. Thereat the Franks murmured, and said one to
another, "This is an evil omen, and bodes ill for the message." But
Ganelon picked it up quickly, saying, "Fear not: you shall all hear
tidings of it." And Ganelon said to the king, "Dismiss me, I pray
thee." So the king gave him a letter signed with his hand and seal,
and delivered to him the staff, saying, "Go, in God's name and mine."
Many of his good vassals would fain have accompanied him upon his
journey, but Ganelon answered, "Nay. 'Tis better one should die than
many." Then Ganelon leaped to horse, and rode on until he overtook the
pagan messengers who had halted beneath an olive-tree to rest. There
Blancandrin talked with Ganelon of the great Charles, and of the
countries he had conquered, and of his riches and the splendor of his
court. Ganelon also spake bitterly of Roland and his eagerness for
war, and how he continually drove the king to battle, and was the
fiercest of all the Franks against the pagans. And Blancandrin said to
Ganelon, "Shall we have peace?" Ganelon said, "He that sueth for peace
often seeketh opportunity for war." Blancandrin answered, "He that
beareth peace to his master's enemies often desireth to be avenged of
his own." Then each of the two men knew the other to be a rogue; and
they made friends, and opened their hearts to each other, and each
spake of what was in his mind, and they laid their plans. So it befell
that when they came to Zaragoz, Blancandrin took Ganelon by the hand,
and led him to King Marsilius, saying, "O king! we have borne thy
message to the haughty Charles, but he answered never a word. He only
raised his hands on high to his God, and held his peace; but he has
sent the noble Count Ganelon, at whose mouth we shall hear whether we
may have peace or no."
Then Ganelon, who had well considered beforehand what he should say,
began, "God save the worthy King Marsilius. Thus saith the mighty
Charles through me his messenger: 'So thou wilt become a Christian, I
will give thee the half of Spain to hold of me, and thou shalt pay me
tribute and be my servant. Otherwise I will come suddenly and take the
land away by force, and will bring thee to Aachen, to my court, and
will there put thee to death.'"