Abbot of Saint Faron, observing the fine horse Beiffror, and not having
at the time any other favor to ask of Charlemagne, begged the Emperor
to give him the horse, and had him taken to his abbey. He was impatient
to try his new acquisition, and when he had arrived in his litter at
the foot of the mountain where the horse had been brought to meet him
mounted him and rode onward. The horse, accustomed to bear the enormous
weight of Ogier in his armor, when he perceived nothing on his back but
the light weight of the Abbot, whose long robes fluttered against his
sides, ran away, making prodigious leaps over the steep acclivities of
the mountain till he reached the convent of Jouaire, where, in sight of
the Abbess and her nuns, he threw the Abbot, already half dead with
fright, to the ground. The Abbot, bruised and mortified, revenged
himself on poor Beiffror, whom he condemned, in his wrath, to be given
to the workmen to drag stones for a chapel that he was building near
the abbey. Thus, ill-fed, hard-worked, and often beaten, the noble
horse Beiffror passed the time while his master's imprisonment lasted.
That imprisonment would have been as long as his life if it had not
been for some important events which forced the Emperor to set Ogier at
liberty.
The Emperor learned at the same time that Carahue, King of Mauritania,
was assembling an army to come and demand the liberation of Ogier; that
Guyon, King of Denmark, was prepared to second the enterprise with all
his forces; and, worse than all, that the Saracens, under Bruhier,
Sultan of Arabia, had landed in Gascony, taken Bordeaux, and were
marching with all speed for Paris.
Charlemagne now felt how necessary the aid of Ogier was to him. But, in
spite of the representations of Turpin, Namo, and Salomon, he could not
bring himself to consent to surrender Charlot to such punishment as
Ogier should see fit to impose. Besides, he believed that Ogier was
without strength and vigor, weakened by imprisonment and long
abstinence.
At this crisis he received a message from Bruhier, proposing to put the
issue upon the result of a combat between himself and the Emperor or
his champion; promising, if defeated, to withdraw his army. Charlemagne
would willingly have accepted the challenge, but his counsellors all
opposed it. The herald was therefore told that the Emperor would take
time to consider his proposition, and give his answer the next day.
It was during this interval that the three Dukes succeeded in
prevailing upon Charlemagne to pardon Ogier, and to send for him to
combat the puissant enemy who now defied him; but it was no easy task
to persuade Ogier. The idea of his long imprisonment and the
recollection of his son, bleeding and dying in his arms by the blow of
the ferocious Charlot, made him long resist the urgency of his friends.
Though glory called him to encounter Bruhier, and the safety of
Christendom demanded the destruction of this proud enemy of the faith,
Ogier only yielded at last on condition that Charlot should be
delivered into his hands to be dealt with as he should see fit.
The terms were hard, but the danger was pressing, and Charlemagne, with
a returning sense of justice, and a strong confidence in the generous
though passionate soul of Ogier, at last consented to them.
Ogier was led into the presence of Charlemagne by the three peers. The
Emperor, faithful to his word, had caused Charlot to be brought into
the hall where the high barons were assembled, his hands tied, and his
head uncovered. When the Emperor saw Ogier approach he took Charlot by
the arm, led him towards Ogier, and said these words: "I surrender the
criminal; do with him as you think fit." Ogier, without replying,
seized Charlot by the hair, forced him on his knees, and lifted with
the other hand his irresistible sword. Charlemagne, who expected to see
the head of his son rolling at his feet, shut his eyes and uttered a
cry of horror.
Ogier had done enough. The next moment he raised Charlot, cut his
bonds, kissed him on the mouth, and hastened to throw himself at the
feet of the Emperor.
Nothing can exceed the surprise and joy of Charlemagne at seeing his
son unharmed and Ogier kneeling at his feet. He folded him in his arms,
bathed him with tears, and exclaimed to his barons, "I feel at this
moment that Ogier is greater than I." As for Charlot, his base soul
felt nothing but the joy of having escaped death; he remained such as
he had been, and it was not till some years afterwards he received the
punishment he deserved, from the hands of Huon of Bordeaux, as we have
seen in a former chapter.
OGIER, THE DANE (Continued)
WHEN Charlemagne had somewhat recovered his composure he was surprised
to observe that Ogier appeared in good case, and had a healthy color in
his cheeks. He turned to the Archbishop, who could not help blushing as
he met his eye. "By the head of Bertha, my queen," said Charlemagne,
"Ogier has had good quarters in your castle, my Lord Archbishop; but so
much the more am I indebted to you." All the barons laughed and jested
with Turpin, who only said, "Laugh as much as you please, my lords; but
for my part I am not sorry to see the arm in full vigor that is to
avenge us on the proud Saracen."
Charlemagne immediately despatched his herald, accepting the challenge,
and appointing the next day but one for the encounter. The proud and
crafty Bruhier laughed scornfully when he heard the reply accepting his
challenge, for he had a reliance on certain resources besides his
natural strength and skill. However, he swore by Mahomet to observe the
conditions as proposed and agreed upon.
Ogier now demanded his armor, and it was brought to him in excellent
condition, for the good Turpin had kept it faithfully; but it was not
easy to provide a horse for the occasion. Charlemagne had the best
horses of his stables brought out, except Blanchard, his own charger;
but all in vain, the weight of Ogier bent their backs to the ground. In
this embarrassment the Archbishop remembered that the Emperor had given
Beiffror to the Abbot of St. Faron, and sent off a courier in haste to
re-demand him.
Monks are hard masters, and the one who directed the laborers at the
abbey had but too faithfully obeyed the orders of the Abbot. Poor
Beiffror was brought back, lean, spiritless, and chafed with the
harness of the vile cart that he had had to draw so long. He carried
his head down, and trod heavily before Charlemagne; but when he heard
the voice of Ogier he raised his head, he neighed, his eyes flashed,
his former ardor showed itself by the force with which he pawed the
ground. Ogier caressed him, and the good steed seemed to return his
caresses; Ogier mounted him, and Beiffror, proud of carrying his master
again, leapt and curvetted with all his youthful vigor.
Nothing being now wanted, Charlemagne, at the head of his army, marched
forth from the city of Paris, and occupied the hill of Montmartre,
whence the view extended over the plain of St. Denis, where the battle
was to be fought.
When the appointed day came the Dukes Namo and Salomon, as seconds of
Ogier, accompanied him to the place marked out for the lists, and
Bruhier, with two distinguished Emirs, presented himself on the other
side.
Bruhier was in high spirits, and jested with his friends, as he
advanced, upon the appearance of Beiffror. "Is that the horse they
presume to match with Marchevallee, the best steed that ever fed in the
vales of Mount Atlas?" But now the combatants, having met and saluted
each other, ride apart to come together in full career. Beiffror flew
over the plain, and met the adversary more than half-way. The lances of
the two combatants were shivered at the shock, and Bruhier was
astonished to see almost at the same instant the sword of Ogier
gleaming above his head. He parried it with his buckler, and gave Ogier
a blow on his helmet, who returned it with another, better aimed or
better seconded by the temper of his blade, for it cut away part of
Bruhier's helmet, and with it his ear and part of his cheek. Ogier,
seeing the blood, did not immediately repeat his blow, and Bruhier
seized the moment to gallop off at one side. As he rode he took a vase
of gold which hung at his saddle-bow, and bathed with its contents the
wounded part. The blood instantly ceased to flow, the ear and the flesh
were restored quite whole, and the Dane was astonished to see his
antagonist return to the ground as sound as ever.
Bruhier laughed at his amazement. "Know," said he, "that I possess the
precious balm that Joseph of Arimathea used upon the body of the
crucified one, whom you worship. If I should lose an arm I could
restore it with a few drops of this. It is useless for you to contend
with me. Yield yourself, and, as you appear to be a strong fellow, I
will make you first oarsman in one of my galleys."
Ogier, though boiling with rage, forgot not to implore the assistance
of Heaven. "O Lord!" he exclaimed, "suffer not the enemy of thy name to
profit by the powerful help of that which owes all its virtue to thy
divine blood." At these words he attacked Bruhier again with more vigor
than ever; both struck terrible blows, and made grievous wounds; but
the blood flowed from those of Ogier, while Bruhier stanched his by the
application of his balm. Ogier, desperate at the unequal contest,
grasped Cortana with both hands, and struck his enemy such a blow that
it cleft his buckler, and cut off his arm with it; but Bruhier at the
same time launched one at Ogier, which, missing him, struck the head of
Beiffror, and the good horse fell, and drew down his master in his fall.
Bruhier had time to leap to the ground, to pick up his arm and apply
his balsam; then, before Ogier had recovered his footing, he rushed
forward with sword uplifted to complete his destruction.
Charlemagne, from the height of Montmartre, seeing the brave Ogier in
this situation, groaned, and was ready to murmur against Providence;
but the good Turpin, raising his arms, with a faith like that of Moses,
drew down upon the Christian warrior the favor of Heaven.
Ogier, promptly disengaging himself, pressed Bruhier with so much
impetuosity that he drove him to a distance from his horse, to whose
saddle-bow the precious balm was suspended; and very soon Charlemagne
saw Ogier, now completely in the advantage, bring his enemy to his
knees, tear off his helmet, and, with a sweep of his sword, strike his
head from his body.
After the victory, Ogier seized Marchevallee, leaped upon his back, and
became possessed of the precious flask, a few drops from which closed
his wounds and restored his strength. The French knights who had been
Bruhier's captives, now released, pressed round Ogier to thank him for
their deliverance.
Charlemagne and his nobles, as soon as their attention was relieved
from the single combat, perceived from their elevated position an
unusual agitation in the enemy's camp. They attributed it at first to
the death of their general, but soon the noise of arms, the cries of
combatants, and new standards which advanced, disclosed to them the
fact that Bruhier's army was attacked by a new enemy.
The Emperor was right; it was the brave Carahue of Mauritania, who,
with an army, had arrived in France, resolved to attempt the liberation
of Ogier, his brother in arms. Learning on his arrival the changed
aspect of affairs, he hesitated not to render a signal service to the
Emperor, by attacking the army of Bruhier in the midst of the
consternation occasioned by the loss of its commander.
Ogier recognized the standard of his friend, and leaping upon
Marchevallee, flew to aid his attack. Charlemagne followed with his
army; and the Saracen host, after an obstinate conflict, was forced to
surrender unconditionally.
The interview of Ogier and Carahue was such as might be anticipated of
two such attached friends and accomplished knights. Charlemagne went to
meet them, embraced them, and putting the King of Mauritania on his
right and Ogier on his left, returned with triumph to Paris. There the
Empress Bertha and the ladies of her court crowned them with laurels,
and the sage and gallant Eginhard, chamberlain and secretary of the
Emperor, wrote all these great events in his history.
A few days after Guyon, King of Denmark, arrived in France with a
chosen band of knights, and sent an ambassador to Charlemagne, to say
that he came, not as an enemy, but to render homage to him as the best
knight of the time and the head of the Christian world. Charlemagne
gave the ambassador a cordial reception, and mounting his horse, rode
forward to meet the King of Denmark.
These great princes, being assembled at the court of Charles, held
council together, and the ancient and sage barons were called to join
it.
It was decided that the united Danish and Mauritanian armies should
cross the sea and carry the war to the country of the Saracens, and
that a thousand French knights should range themselves under the banner
of Ogier, the Dane, who, though not a king, should have equal rank with
the two others.
We have not space to record all the illustrious actions performed by
Ogier and his allies in this war. Suffice it to say, they subdued the
Saracens of Ptolemais and Judaea, and, erecting those regions into a
kingdom, placed the crown upon the head of Ogier. Guyon and Carahue
then left him, to return to their respective dominions. Ogier adopted
Walter, the son of Guyon of Denmark, to be his successor in his
kingdom. He superintended his education, and saw the young prince grow
up worthy of his cares. But Ogier, in spite of all the honors of his
rank, often regretted the court of Charlemagne, the Duke Namo, and
Salomon of Brittany, for whom he had the respect and attachment of a
son. At last, finding Walter old enough to sustain the weight of
government, Ogier caused a vessel to be prepared secretly, and,
attended only by one squire, left his palace by night, and embarked to
return to France.
The vessel, driven by a fair wind, cut the sea with the swiftness of a
bird; but on a sudden it deviated from its course, no longer obeyed the
helm, and sped fast towards a black promontory which stretched into the
sea. This was a mountain of loadstone, and, its attractive power
increasing as the distance diminished, the vessel at last flew with the
swiftness of an arrow towards it, and was dashed to pieces on its rocky
base. Ogier alone saved himself, and reached the shore on a fragment of
the wreck.
Ogier advanced into the country, looking for some marks of inhabitancy,
but found none. On a sudden he encountered two monstrous animals,
covered with glittering scales, accompanied by a horse breathing fire.
Ogier drew his sword and prepared to defend himself; but the monsters,
terrific as they appeared, made no attempt to assail him, and the
horse, Papillon, knelt down, and appeared to court Ogier to mount upon
his back. Ogier hesitated not to see the adventure through; he mounted
Papillon, who ran with speed, and soon cleared the rocks and precipices
which hemmed in and concealed a beautiful landscape. He continued his
course till he reached a magnificent palace, and, without allowing
Ogier time to admire it, crossed a grand court-yard adorned with
colonnades, and entered a garden, where, making his way through alleys
of myrtle, he checked his course, and knelt down on the enamelled turf
of a fountain.
Ogier dismounted and took some steps along the margin of the stream,
but was soon stopped by meeting a young beauty, such as they paint the
Graces, and almost as lightly attired as they. At the same moment, to
his amazement, his armor fell off of its own accord. The young beauty
advanced with a tender air, and placed upon his head a crown of
flowers. At that instant the Danish hero lost his memory; his combats,
his glory, Charlemagne and his court, all vanished from his mind; he
saw only Morgana, he desired nothing but to sigh forever at her feet.
We abridge the narrative of all the delights which Ogier enjoyed for
more than a hundred years. Time flew by, leaving no impression of its
flight. Morgana's youthful charms did not decay, and Ogier had none of
those warnings of increasing years which less favored mortals never
fail to receive. There is no knowing how long this blissful state might
have lasted, if it had not been for an accident, by which Morgana one
day, in a sportive moment, snatched the crown from his head. That
moment Ogier regained his memory, and lost his contentment. The
recollection of Charlemagne, and of his own relatives and friends,
saddened the hours which he passed with Morgana. The fairy saw with
grief the changed looks of her lover. At last she drew from him the
acknowledgment that he wished to go, at least for a time, to revisit
Charles's court. She consented with reluctance, and with her own hands
helped to reinvest him with his armor. Papillon was led forth, Ogier
mounted him, and, taking a tender adieu of the tearful Morgana, crossed
at rapid speed the rocky belt which separated Morgana's palace from the
borders of the sea. The sea-goblins which had received him at his
coming awaited him on the shore. One of them took Ogier on his back,
and the other placing himself under Papillon, they spread their broad
fins, and in a short time traversed the wide space that separates the
isle of Avalon from France. They landed Ogier on the coast of
Languedoc, and then plunged into the sea and disappeared.
Ogier remounted on Papillon, who carried him across the kingdom almost
as fast as he had passed the sea. He arrived under the walls of Paris,
which he would scarcely have recognized if the high towers of St.
Genevieve had not caught his eye. He went straight to the palace of
Charlemagne, which seemed to him to have been entirely rebuilt. His
surprise was extreme, and increased still more on finding that he
understood with difficulty the language of the guards and attendants in
replying to his questions; and seeing them smile as they tried to
explain to one another the language in which he addressed them.
Presently the attention of some of the barons who were going to court
was attracted to the scene, and Ogier, who recognized the badges of
their rank, addressed them, and inquired if the Dukes Namo and Salomon
were still residing at the Emperor's court. At this question the barons
looked at one another in amazement; and one of the eldest said to the
rest, "How much this knight resembles the portrait of my grand-uncle,
Ogier the Dane." "Ah! my dear nephew, I am Ogier the Dane," said he;
and he remembered that Morgana had told him that he was little aware of
the flight of time during his abode with her.
The barons, more astonished than ever, concluded to conduct him to the
monarch who then reigned, the great Hugh Capet.
The brave Ogier entered the palace without hesitation; but when, on
reaching the royal hall, the barons directed him to make his obeisance
to the King of France, he was astonished to see a man of short stature
and large head, whose air, nevertheless, was noble and martial, seated
upon the throne on which he had so often seen Charlemagne, the tallest
and handsomest sovereign of his time.
Ogier recounted his adventures with simplicity and affectedness. Hugh
Capet was slow to believe him; but Ogier recalled so many proofs and
circumstances, that at last he was forced to recognize the aged warrior
to be the famous Ogier the Dane.
The king informed Ogier of the events which had taken place during his
long absence; that the line of Charlemagne was extinct; that a new
dynasty had commenced; that the old enemies of the kingdom, the
Saracens, were still troublesome; and that at that very time an army of
those miscreants was besieging the city of Chartres, to which he was
about to repair in a few days to its relief. Ogier, always inflamed
with the love of glory, offered the service of his arm, which the
illustrious monarch accepted graciously, and conducted him to the
queen. The astonishment of Ogier was redoubled when he saw the new
ornaments and head-dresses of the ladies; still, the beautiful hair
which they built up on their foreheads, and the feathers interwoven,
which waved with so much grace, gave them a noble air that delighted
him. His admiration increased when, instead of the old Empress Bertha,
he saw a young queen who combined a majestic mien with the graces of
her time of life, and manners candid and charming, suited to attach all
hearts. Ogier saluted the youthful queen with a respect so profound
that many of the courtiers took him for a foreigner, or at least for
some nobleman brought up at a distance from Paris, who retained the
manners of what they called the old court.
When the queen was informed by her husband that it was the celebrated
Ogier the Dane whom he presented to her, whose memorable exploits she
had often read in the chronicles of antiquity, her surprise was
extreme, which was increased when she remarked the dignity of his
address, the animation and even the youthfulness of his countenance.
This queen had too much intelligence to believe hastily; proof alone
could compel her assent; and she asked him many questions about the old
court of Charlemagne, and received such instructive and appropriate
answers as removed every doubt. It is to the corrections which Ogier
was at that time enabled to make to the popular narratives of his
exploits that we are indebted for the perfect accuracy and
trustworthiness of all the details of our own history.
King Hugh Capet, having received that same evening couriers from the
inhabitants of Chartres, informing him that they were hard pressed by
the besiegers, resolved to hasten with Ogier to their relief.
Ogier terminated this affair as expeditiously as he had so often done
others. The Saracens having dared to offer battle, he bore the
Oriflamme through the thickest of their ranks; Papillon, breathing fire
from his nostrils, threw them into disorder, and Cortana, wielded by
his invincible arm, soon finished their overthrow.
The king, victorious over the Saracens, led back the Danish hero to
Paris, where the deliverer of France received the honors due to his
valor. Ogier continued some time at the court, detained by the favor of
the king and queen; but erelong he had the pain to witness the death of
the king. Then it was that, impressed with all the perfections which he
had discerned in the queen, he could not withhold the tender homage of
the offer of his hand. The queen would perhaps have accepted it, she
had even called a meeting of her great barons to deliberate on the
proposition, when, the day before the meeting was to be held, at the
moment when Ogier was kneeling at her feet, she perceived a crown of
gold which an invisible hand had placed on his brow, and in an instant
a cloud enveloped Ogier, and he disappeared forever from her sight. It
was Morgana, the fairy, whose jealousy was awakened at what she beheld,
who now resumed her power, and took him away to dwell with her in the
island of Avalon. There, in company with the great King Arthur of
Britain, he still lives, and when his illustrious friend shall return
to resume his ancient reign he will doubtless return with him, and
share his triumph.
GLOSSARY
Abdalrahman, founder of the independent Ommiad (Saracenic) power in
Spain, conquered at Tours by Charles Martel.
Aberfraw, scene of nuptials of Branwen and Matholch.
Absyrtus, younger brother of Medea.
Abydos, a town on the Hellespont, nearly opposite to Sestos.
Abyla, Mount, or Columna, a mountain in Morocco, near Ceuta, now called
Jebel Musa or Ape's Hill, forming the Northwestern extremity of the
African coast opposite Gibraltar (See Pillars of Hercules).
Acestes, son of a Trojan woman who was sent by her father to Sicily,
that she might not be devoured by the monsters which infested the
territory of Troy.
Acetes, Bacchanal captured by Pentheus.
Achates, faithful friend and companion of Aeneas.
Achelous, river-god of the largest river in Greece--his Horn of Plenty.
Achilles, the hero of the Iliad, son of Peleus and of the Nereid
Thetis, slain by Paris.
Acis, youth loved by Galatea and slain by Polyphemus.
Acontius, a beautiful youth, who fell in love with Cydippe, the
daughter of a noble Athenian.
Acrisius, son of Abas, king of Argos, grandson of Lynceus, the
great-grandson of Danaus.
Actaeon, a celebrated huntsman, son of Aristaeus and Autonoe, who,
having seen Diana bathing, was changed by her to a stag and killed by
his own dogs.
Admeta, daughter of Eurystheus, covets Hippolyta's girdle.
Admetus, king of Thessaly, saved from death by Alcestis.
Adonis, a youth beloved by Aphrodite (Venus), and Proserpine; killed by
a boar.
Adrastus, a king of Argos.
Aeacus, son of Zeus (Jupiter) and Aegina, renowned in all Greece for
his justice and piety.
Aeaea, Circe's island, visited by Ulysses.
Aeetes, or Aeeta, son of Helios (the Sun) and Perseis, and father of
Medea and Absyrtus.
Aegeus, king of Athens.
Aegina, a rocky island in the middle of the Saronic gulf.
Aegis, shield or breastplate of Jupiter and Minerva.