The four sons of Aymon, reduced to the last extremities, without
soldiers, or without any resources whatever, wandered in the forests of
the Ardennes, shelterless and hungry.
Maugis, finally, when their position became unsupportable, suggested
that the only thing left for them to do was to return to the château of
their father. Said he:
“Whether the sentiments of our father are just or not, what right have
we to doubt the devotion of our mother? Has she not always given to us
her love? Do not our own people love us? What is there then to fear?
Nothing! besides, the life we have been living for some time past has
so changed us I doubt if any one will know us.”
Besides the starvation and ruin that stared him in the face, the noble
soul of Maugis was sadly torn by concern for the position of Yolande,
his beloved one, in the court of Charlemagne. He had learned that she
was practically a hostage for the loyalty of her brother, King of Yon,
the ruler of a small principality in the south, though her position at
the court was as lady-in-waiting to the empress.
He knew the persecutions of Ganelon were well-nigh unbearable and that
she could not escape them by leaving the court.
He chafed at the fate that held him bound hand and foot, and longed
for the chance to rescue Yolande—how, he knew not. The case seemed
hopeless. Charlemagne, now thoroughly embittered, would pursue them to
the end, and what would that be?
While these sad reflections were passing through his mind, his brothers
had consulted among themselves and decided to follow his advice, and
the four waited patiently for night to fall, that they might take up
their route home.
They finally arrived in their own province the next day, after a long
and exhausting march, and at a moment when it was most favorable for
them to enter the château.
Their father was away hunting. Nobody recognized them. Their horses
having every appearance of hard usage, every one thought they had
returned from the wars in the holy land, and when they appeared at the
gates of the château they were opened to them willingly, for great
sanctity was attached to those who had been to the holy sepulcher, and
the blessing of God was supposed to rest upon all such.
They demanded to see the duchess.
On hearing of the arrival of the four knights she hastened to them, and
on beholding them so pale, worn and wasted, she could hardly control
her feelings.
“Welcome, sir knights!” cried she to them, not recognizing her sons;
“accept the hospitality I offer you with all my heart, and be assured I
shall do everything in my power to assist you.”
Maugis was choking with sobs, and tears were running from his eyes.
“Ah, my mother!” cried he, “why is it our father does not feel toward
us the way you do, and why is it that because we embraced a cause we
thought was right we have incurred disgrace?”
At these words the duchess recognized her son, thin and wasted as he
was, and his face concealed by a beard. She tottered toward him to
throw herself in his arms, but fell to the floor in a faint. The strain
had been too great.
Coming to herself soon, she embraced her sons and asked them how they
had escaped death.
Suddenly a great noise was heard outside. It was the Duke d’Aymon, who
had returned from the chase, and the duchess, having first hidden her
sons in an adjoining chamber, hastened to meet him.
When she met him she could not restrain her tears and he knew that she
had received news of her sons.
She recounted to him their terrible sufferings and the awful dangers to
which they had been exposed and how anxious they were to receive his
pardon.
The stern old duke was a prey to all sorts of emotions. On the one
hand his father’s heart would accord to his sons the pardon they asked
of him. On the other he feared the irritation the emperor would feel.
The burning of Montfort had made him fearful of the safety of his own
estates.
It was at this point of incertitude that the duchess, anxious to bring
the matter to a finish, startled him by bringing his sons before him,
who threw themselves at his feet and supplicated him for grace.
“My father!” cried Maugis, “if you only knew what misery your anger has
caused your children you would forgive them. What greater sorrow could
you cause them? Whom have we to trust in all this wide world but you?
We would never have willingly fought against Charlemagne if we could
have hoped for peace any other way.”
“Alas!” replied the duke, “do you think the emperor would ever consent
to accord peace to rebels? Never! The wrong you have already done has
caused me to rest under the suspicion of complicity with you which will
prevent me from affording you shelter.”
On hearing those stern words the duchess burst into tears. “Fear not,
dear children,” she cried, “your father loves you and his indecision
need cause you no uneasiness.”
“We would be very unwilling to cause our father any trouble,” said
Alard. “We will go away, perhaps we can find some stranger who will
not refuse us the assistance we cannot get from him.”
At this stinging reproach the duke could not restrain his tears.
“No, my children!” said he with a broken voice, “it is I who will go,
and you shall be left here with your mother. She will give you all the
attention you require and provide you with necessary means. I shall
ignore all these kindnesses to you, and you must guard it as a secret,
my meeting you at this time.”
He then descended to the courtyard, remounted his horse, and followed
by his suite, started out.
After the duke had gone the duchess embraced her sons, and assured
them of the good feelings of their father, that his only fear was the
displeasure of Charlemagne, who perhaps might compel him to remain near
him at Paris.
They also feared that the secret of their presence would be exposed at
any moment. The duchess conducted her sons to the chamber where the
arms of the duke were kept, and each of the brothers chose what he
needed. They took, at the same time, complete outfits of clothing and
armor, and made preparations to depart the following night.
Mainfroi, the son of the esquire of the duke, on whose devotion the
family could fully rely, was charged with all the arrangements. Maugis,
pleased with the ardor with which Mainfroi acquitted himself of these
duties, proposed to him to become his own esquire, which Mainfroi
accepted with joy. He undertook also to obtain three other esquires and
have them ready for the moment of departure, praying that the brothers
would confide all to him completely.
The next day Mainfroi, in the name of the duke, made a levy of one
hundred men and ordered them to report at Sedan within three days.
Each brother then received a large sum of money from the treasury of
the duke, their father.
In the dead of night the four brothers took tearful leave of their
sorrowing mother, mounted their horses, and silently departed out into
the world.
Once outside they met Mainfroi and the three esquires, and directing
their course to Sedan, were joined by the one hundred men-at-arms
arranged for them.
Thinking it prudent to go southward, they set out and had proceeded
as far as the village of Haraucourt, in the valley of the Emmenee, a
romantic place where the hills towered above on either side and shut in
the nestling village. They suddenly encountered their father returning
to the château, followed by three hundred men. The duke rode up to them
and said in low tones that he would not fight them, but that he must do
something to deceive the emperor, and that he designed to allow them
the three hundred men then with him as an addition to their force, De
Baudelot, the chief of the troops, being in the secret.
This preparatory interview having terminated, the duke feigned to
become very angry at his sons. He swore that he would exterminate them,
and ordered his soldiers to charge upon them. Commandant de Baudelot,
agreeable to the understanding between them, roared out: “Let not a man
move, or by Saint Gris I will cut him down to the saddle!”
The duke gazed frowningly upon the bronzed faces of his men, but not
one of them made motion to obey him—and then turning, apparently
furious, upon the immovable De Baudelot, he berated him roundly and
thereupon left, followed only by a few servitors, promising the
rebellious De Baudelot and his sons the most dire vengeance.
This stratagem was so well carried out that it deceived everybody,
and the duke, to make it more sure, when he returned to his palace,
spread the story, how his wayward sons, having secured entrance to the
château, hoping to gain his pity, had in a cowardly manner taken his
treasure and corrupted his soldiers.
To render the matter yet more plausible he even dispatched a messenger
to Charlemagne.
The emperor, however, who had several times condemned the conduct of
the duke to his sons, tacitly approved their conduct in this case.
In the meantime, the brothers continued their march onward, not having
quite decided upon their course. It was Maugis’ wish to get to Paris
and rescue Yolande, if possible; but unless strategy could be used,
it could not be accomplished with any means short of a large army.
Still the disquietude and anxiety of Maugis was so great as to nearly
overcome his prudence, and he was almost ready to march on Paris with
his small force.
So they continued onward; one day De Baudelot, having ridden ahead
to reconnoiter the road, was joined by the brothers. All at once the
quick eye of Maugis discerned the glint of arms on the road over a
neighboring hilltop in the morning sunshine, indicating that a large
force was approaching. Scouts were at once sent out, and soon the
joyful news was brought to them that Renaud, their cousin, son of the
unfortunate Duke d’Aigremont, was at the head of the approaching army.
When they met they were all much affected. After the first moments of
joy, Renaud explained to them that he had learned that Charlemagne had
raised a large army. For what purpose he knew not, but he, supposing
that a breach between the Duke d’Aymon and Charlemagne had been
followed by a reconciliation between the duke and his sons, and that
the consequences would be an attack from Charlemagne, had, on his part,
taken his father’s army and was on his way to offer his services to the
duke.
Maugis soon apprised Renaud of the real state of affairs, and Renaud
then swore he would accompany him wherever he might go, and that his
army and his sword would be at the disposal of his cousins.
Renaud then told Maugis that there was accompanying him a messenger
from the kingdom of Yon, whom he had overtaken, footsore and weary,
journeying on his way to the Château d’Aymon, bearing a message for
Maugis.
The traveler, immediately summoned, placed in the hands of Maugis a
silken-bound packet, which he opened with trembling hand, knowing well
it was news from Yolande.
The packet contained the ring and these words:
“Know thou by this token, which the saints grant may truly find
thy hand, that it is Yolande who doth send thee greeting. The foul
Ganelon did persecute and vex me sorely, and angered by my scorn
of him, did finally gain the ear of the king, and did me such ill
service with his majesty by telling him of the part I took in
thy escape from the palace, made more heinous by many and divers
deceits, prompted by his ungodly heart, until the king became
enraged with me, and the empress also did much disfavor and condemn
me, so that forthwith I was sent back to my brother’s kingdom in
disgrace. The emperor, because of my ill doing, hath frowned on
my brother, King Yon, and hath denied him support. And thou canst
haste thee to our succor, and if thou canst not and needst succor
thyself, come hither and we can at least die together. My prayers
do ever attend thee. The Saracens, from over the border in Spain,
do now lay siege to our capital and we are sore beset. May the
saints defend us.
+Yolande.+”
These simple words gave Maugis sore distress. He called his friends
together, and it was then and there decided to march forthwith to the
south of France and give succor to the kingdom of Yon.
At Sedan they organized their army by uniting their troops and marched
to Rheims. There they were stopped by meeting a force of three hundred
men, whom they prepared to fight. Maugis arrested the charge and went
forward to reconnoiter. Then he recognized them as some new troops
which had come to serve him.
After having marched some days they reached Poitiers, where they rested
for a time, drilling and equipping their troops, laying contributions
on the subjects of Charlemagne.
From here they marched in all haste to the frontiers of Spain, where
they learned more particularly that Yon, King of Acquitaine, had been
dethroned by Boulag Akasir, the renowned chief of the Saracens, had
fled to Bordeaux, and that now the infidel forces were about to besiege
that city, the last resort of King Yon and his court.
Tom with conflicting emotions at the danger which threatened Yolande,
Maugis ordered all haste to be made to the rescue of the unfortunate
prince, sending in advance four knights, hastening them forward to
offer the services of the oncoming forces. On their arrival they found
a great many other knights who had already come to offer their services.
The arrival of Maugis created a great sensation. His gigantic stature,
his noble air, won the attention and admiration of everybody. Tall
and stately, Yolande stood beside her brother, the king, amid that
brilliant assemblage, but her glance was freezing when it fell upon the
expectant Maugis. Her greeting was formal and cold and she averted her
face from him with a certain disdain.
Shocked, humbled and heart-stricken by this cruel treatment, the
mighty Maugis nearly lost self-control. As it was he stumbled back
to the little group of his friends, powerless to utter a word, and
bade Renaud, his cousin, to be spokesman to the king, which he did as
follows:
“Sire,” said Renaud, “we are five knights of high birth and we seek to
place our courage and our swords at the service of your majesty. That
our position may justify our words, we have come with seven hundred men
and we demand no other recompense for our devotion than to receive at
all times the protection of your majesty.”
“It pleases me much,” replied the king, “to receive thy service, brave
knights, and right gladly will I accept thy offer. Grant me thy names
that I may know to whom I am so deeply indebted.”
At the mention of the name of Maugis, he was startled. He had heard of
the brilliant exploits of that brave young man, which by that time had
become known throughout France.
He expressed his satisfaction at having him near him, and assured the
four brothers and their cousin of his protection. Said he: “If you
are miserable, I myself am nearly dethroned. I am likewise miserable,
therefore we will unite our fortunes. I will count on your courage and
you may count on my protection and friendship.”