Charlemagne was roused in the highest degree. He was at first disposed
to wreak his vengeance upon Ogier, his hostage; but at the entreaties
of Duke Namo, who felt towards his pupil like a father, consented to
spare his life, if Ogier would swear fidelity to him as his liege-lord,
and promise not to quit his court without his permission. Ogier
accepted these terms, and was allowed to retain all the freedom he had
before enjoyed.
The Emperor would have immediately taken arms to reduce his disobedient
vassal, if he had not been called off in another direction by a message
from Pope Leo, imploring his assistance. The Saracens had landed in the
neighborhood of Rome, occupied Mount Janiculum, and prepared to pass
the Tiber and carry fire and sword to the capital of the Christian
world. Charlemagne hesitated not to yield to the entreaties of the
Pope. He speedily assembled an army, crossed the Alps, traversed Italy,
and arrived at Spoleto, a strong place to which the Pope had retired.
Leo, at the head of his Cardinals, advanced to meet him, and rendered
him homage, as to the son of Pepin, the illustrious protector of the
Holy See, coming, as his father had done, to defend it in the hour of
need.
Charlemagne stopped but two days at Spoleto, and learning that the
Infidels, having rendered themselves masters of Rome, were besieging
the Capitol, which could not long hold out against them, marched
promptly to attack them.
The advanced posts of the army were commanded by Duke Namo, on whom
Ogier waited as his squire. He did not yet bear arms, not having
received the order of knighthood. The Oriflamme, the royal standard,
was borne by a knight named Alory, who showed himself unworthy of the
honor.
Duke Namo, seeing a strong body of the Infidels advancing to attack
him, gave the word to charge them. Ogier remained in the rear, with the
other youths, grieving much that he was not permitted to fight. Very
soon he saw Alory lower the Oriflamme, and turn his horse in flight.
Ogier pointed him out to the young men, and seizing a club, rushed upon
Alory and struck him from his horse. Then, with his companions, he
disarmed him, clothed himself in his armor, raised the Oriflamme, and
mounting the horse of the unworthy knight, flew to the front rank,
where he joined Duke Namo, drove back the Infidels, and carried the
Oriflamme quite through their broken ranks. The Duke, thinking it was
Alory, whom he had not held in high esteem, was astonished at his
strength and valor. Ogier's young companions imitated him, supplying
themselves with armor from the bodies of the slain; they followed Ogier
and carried death into the ranks of the Saracens, who fell back in
confusion upon their main body.
Duke Namo now ordered a retreat, and Ogier obeyed with reluctance, 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 deathblow.
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.
Then the good Archbishop Turpin laid aside his helmet and his bloody
sword (for he always felt that he was clearly in the line of his duty
while slaying Infidels), took his mitre and his crosier, and intoned Te
Deum.
At this moment Ogier, covered with blood and dust, came to lay the
Oriflamme at the feet of the Emperor. He was followed by a train of
warriors of short stature, who walked ill at ease loaded with armor too
heavy for them. Ogier 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. Our author says he cannot
express the surprise, the admiration, and the tenderness of the Emperor
and his peers. Charles folded Ogier in his arms, and the happy fathers
of those brave youths embraced them with tears of joy. The good Duke
Namo stepped forward, and Charlemagne yielded Ogier to his embrace.
"How much do I owe you," he said, "good and wise friend, for having
restrained my anger! My dear Ogier! I owe you my life! My sword leaps
to touch your shoulder, yours 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, gave them the accolade conferring on them
the order of knighthood. The young Orlando and his cousin Oliver could
not refrain, even in the presence of the Emperor, 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. Turpin in a solemn service implored the favor of Heaven upon the
youthful knights, and blessed the white armor which was prepared for
them. Duke Namo presented them with golden spurs, Charles 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 Charles
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." Charles saw that a superior power watched over the
destinies of Ogier; he vowed to love him as a father would, and Ogier
promised him the devotion of a son. Happy had it been for both if they
had always continued mindful of their promises.
The Saracen army had hardly recovered from its dismay when Carahue,
King of Mauritania, who was one of the knights overthrown by Ogier at
the time of the rescue of Charlemagne, determined to challenge him to
single combat. With that view he assumed the dress of a herald,
resolved to carry his own message. The French knights admired his air,
and said to one another that he seemed more fit to be a knight than a
bearer of messages.
Carahue 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."
Charlot, 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.
The perfidious Charlot meditated the blackest treason. During the night
he collected some knights unworthy of the name, and like himself in
their ferocious manners; 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 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.
OGIER, THE DANE (Continued)
CHARLEMAGNE had not forgotten the offence of Geoffroy, the King of
Denmark, in withholding homage, and now prepared to enforce submission.
But at this crisis he was waited upon by an embassy from Geoffroy,
acknowledging his fault, and craving assistance against an army of
invaders who had attacked his states with a force which he was unable
to repel. The soul of Charlemagne was too great to be implacable, and
he took this opportunity to test that of Ogier, who had felt acutely
the unkindness of his father, in leaving him, without regard or notice,
fifteen years in captivity. Charles asked Ogier whether, in spite of
his father's neglect, he was disposed to lead an army to his
assistance. He replied, "A son can never be excused from helping his
father by any cause short of death." Charlemagne placed an army of a
thousand knights under the command of Ogier, and great numbers more
volunteered to march under so distinguished a leader. He flew to the
succor of his father, repelled the invaders, and drove them in
confusion to their vessels. Ogier then hastened to the capital, but as
he drew near the city he heard all the bells sounding a knell. He soon
learned the cause; it was the obsequies of Geoffroy, the King. Ogier
felt keenly the grief of not having been permitted to embrace his
father once more, and to learn his latest commands; but he found that
his father had declared him heir to his throne. He hastened to the
church where the body lay; he knelt and bathed the lifeless form with
his tears. At that moment a celestial light beamed all around, and a
voice of an angel said, "Ogier, leave thy crown to Guyon, thy brother,
and bear no other title than that of 'The Dane.' Thy destiny is
glorious, and other kingdoms are reserved for thee." Ogier obeyed the
divine behest. He saluted his stepmother respectfully, and embracing
his brother, told him that he was content with his lot in being
reckoned among the paladins of Charlemagne, and resigned all claims to
the crown of Denmark.
Ogier returned covered with glory to the court of Charlemagne, and the
Emperor, touched with this proof of his attachment, loaded him with
caresses, and treated him almost as an equal.
We pass in silence the adventures of Ogier for several ensuing years,
in which the fairy-gifts of his infancy showed their force in making
him successful in all enterprises, both of love and war. He married the
charming Belicene, and became the father of young Baldwin, a youth who
seemed to inherit in full measure the strength and courage of his
father and the beauty of his mother. When the lad was old enough to be
separated from his mother, Ogier took him to court and presented him to
Charlemagne, who embraced him and took him into his service. It seemed
to Duke Namo, and all the elder knights, as if they saw in him Ogier
himself, as he was when a youth; and this resemblance won for the lad
their kind regards. Even Charlot at first seemed to be fond of him,
though after a while the resemblance to Ogier which he noticed had the
effect to excite his hatred.
Baldwin was attentive to Charlot, and lost no occasion to be
serviceable. The Prince loved to play chess, and Baldwin, who played
well, often made a party with him.
One day Charlot was nettled at losing two pieces in succession; he
thought he could, by taking a piece from Baldwin, get some amends for
his loss; but Baldwin, seeing him fall into a trap which he had set for
him, could not help a slight laugh, as he said, "Check-mate." Charlot
rose in a fury, seized the rich and heavy chess-board, and dashed it
with all his strength on the head of Baldwin, who fell, and died where
he fell.
Frightened at his own crime, and fearing the vengeance of the terrible
Ogier, Charlot concealed himself in the interior of the palace. A young
companion of Baldwin hastened and informed Ogier of the event. He ran
to the chamber, and beheld the body of his child bathed in blood, and
it could not be concealed from him that Charlot gave the blow.
Transported with rage, Ogier sought Charlot through the palace, and
Charlot, feeling safe nowhere else, took refuge in the hall of
Charlemagne, where he seated himself at table with Duke Namo and
Salomon, Duke of Brittany. Ogier, with sword drawn, followed him to the
very table of the Emperor. When a cupbearer attempted to bar his way he
struck the cup from his hand and dashed the contents in the Emperor's
face. Charles rose in a passion, seized a knife, and would have plunged
it into his breast, had not Salomon and another baron thrown themselves
between, while Namo, who had retained his ancient influence over Ogier,
drew him out of the room. Foreseeing the consequence of this violence,
pitying Ogier, and in his heart excusing him, Namo hurried him away
before the guards of the palace could arrest him, made him mount his
horse, and leave Paris.
Charlemagne called together his peers, and made them take an oath to do
all in their power to arrest Ogier, and bring him to condign
punishment. Ogier on his part sent messages to the Emperor, offering to
give himself up on condition that Charlot should be punished for his
atrocious crime. The Emperor would listen to no conditions, and went in
pursuit of Ogier at the head of a large body of soldiers. Ogier, on the
other hand, was warmly supported by many knights, who pledged
themselves in his defence. The contest raged long, with no decisive
results. Ogier more than once had the Emperor in his power, but
declined to avail himself of his advantage, and released him without
conditions. He even implored pardon for himself, but demanded at the
same time the punishment of Charlot. But Charlemagne was too blindly
fond of his unworthy son to subject him to punishment for the sake of
conciliating one who had been so deeply injured.
At length, distressed at the blood which his friends had lost in his
cause, Ogier dismissed his little army, and slipping away from those
who wished to attend him, took his course to rejoin the Duke Guyon, his
brother. On his way, having reached the forest of Ardennes, weary with
long travel, the freshness of a retired valley tempted him to lie down
to take some repose. He unsaddled Beiffror, relieved himself of his
helmet, lay down on the turf, rested his head on his shield, and slept.
It so happened that Turpin, who occasionally recalled to mind that he
was Archbishop of Rheins, was at that time in the vicinity, making a
pastoral visit to the churches under his jurisdiction. But his dignity
of peer of France, and his martial spirit, which caused him to be
reckoned among the "preux chevaliers" of his time, forbade him to
travel without as large a retinue of knights as he had of clergymen.
One of these was thirsty, and knowing the fountain on the borders of
which Ogier was reposing, he rode to it, and was struck by the sight of
a knight stretched on the ground. He hastened back, and let the
Archbishop know, who approached the fountain, and recognized Ogier.
The first impulse of the good and generous Turpin was to save his
friend, for whom he felt the warmest attachment; but his archdeacons
and knights, who also recognized Ogier, reminded the Archbishop of the
oath which the Emperor had exacted of them all. Turpin could not be
false to his oath; but it was not without a groan that he permitted his
followers to bind the sleeping knight. The Archbishop's attendants
secured the horse and arms of Ogier, and conducted their prisoner to
the Emperor at Soissons.
The Emperor had become so much embittered by Ogier's obstinate
resistance, added to his original fault, that he was disposed to order
him to instant death. But Turpin, seconded by the good Dukes Namo and
Salomon, prayed so hard for him that Charlemagne consented to remit a
violent death, but sentenced him to close imprisonment, under the
charge of the Archbishop, strictly limiting his food to one quarter of
a loaf of bread per day, with one piece of meat, and a quarter of a cup
of wine. In this way he hoped to quickly put an end to his life without
bringing on himself the hostility of the King of Denmark, and other
powerful friends of Ogier. He exacted a new oath of Turpin to obey his
order strictly.
The good Archbishop loved Ogier too well not to cast about for some
means of saving his life, which he foresaw he would soon lose if
subjected to such scanty fare, for Ogier was seven feet tall, and had
an appetite in proportion. Turpin remembered, moreover, that Ogier was
a true son of the Church, always zealous to propagate the faith and
subdue unbelievers; so he felt justified in practising on this occasion
what in later times has been entitled "mental reservation," without
swerving from the letter of the oath which he had taken. This is the
method he hit upon.
Every morning he had his prisoner supplied with a quarter of a loaf of
bread, made of two bushels of flour, to this he added a quarter of a
sheep or a fat calf, and he had a cup made which held forty pints of
wine, and allowed Ogier a quarter of it daily.
Ogier's imprisonment lasted long; Charlemagne was astonished to hear,
from time to time, that he still held out; and when he inquired more
particularly of Turpin, the good Archbishop, relying on his own
understanding of the words, did not hesitate to affirm positively that
he allowed his prisoner no more than the permitted ration.