When Charlemagne had a project in his mind, and particularly a project
of vengeance, he never abandoned it. And now being disembarrassed of
the Saracens, he lent a willing ear to the urgings of Ganelon and his
friends, to go to the punishment of the King of Acquitaine, for his
refusal to yield up the brave Maugis and the sons D’Aymon.
Ganelon, in his infatuation, still harbored the idea of destroying
Maugis and gaining possession of the lovely Yolande. In those old days
might was right and the perfidious courtier easily found those who,
through envy, malice or hatred, would aid him in his infamous schemes.
The emperor summoned his counsellors and laid his plans before them.
Roland, elated by his first victory, proposed to invest Montaubon and
punish the rebellious young knights. Therefore orders were issued for
the assemblage of all the soldiers the kingdom contained at Paris, the
following April.
At the designated time there duly arrived the principal lords of the
realm, followed by numerous troops. Solomon de Bretagne with all the
nobility of his domain, Dizier d’Espagne with six thousand soldiers,
Bertrand d’Allemagne with two thousand men, Richard de Normandie with a
crowd of knights assembled from all parts to take part in the war. And
then, the Archbishop Turpin arrived at the head of a choice troop. All
these small armies united gave a total of one hundred thousand men, who
were placed under the immediate command of Roland.
Charlemagne, to show the great confidence he felt in him, himself
contributed thirty thousand men, raised by an extraordinary levy, and
on the day of departure, at the very moment that Roland mounted his
horse, Charlemagne confided to his hands the keeping of his royal
banner.
It truly seemed as if these formidable preparations insured the doom
of the gallant Maugis, who now was enjoying every moment of his
blissful honeymoon with his beautiful bride, all unconscious in his
great happiness of the awful cloud that hung so threateningly over his
future; he little dreaming of the dreadful tribulations cruel fate had
yet in store for him.
It was not long before his dream of love had a rude awakening. The
approach of the great army was duly heralded, and a few days after had
arrived before the fortress of Montaubon. Roland would have made an
immediate assault, but Charlemagne in his wider experience deemed it
better to give the troops needed rest and at the same time employ the
time in an endeavor to effect some arrangement.
[Illustration: CHARLEMAGNE AT THE HEAD OF HIS ARMY.]
He sent to Maugis a knight with a flag of truce indicating a desire
for a parley, who, shortly after he appeared before the gates of the
castle, was admitted to the presence of Maugis.
“Sir knight!” said the envoy, “I appear at the instance of the Emperor
Charlemagne to bid thee lay down thy arms and surrender at discretion.
Thy life shall be spared, but the condition is thou shalt deliver up
thy brother Richard to the anger of the king as an expiation of thy
faults and those of thy brothers. What sayest thou?”
The brow of Maugis darkened at these ominous words.
“If thou refusest,” continued the envoy of the emperor in a threatening
tone, “neither grace nor pity shall be accorded thee or thine. All,
every one, shall be given over to the most hideous punishments, and thy
fortress shall be razed to the ground.”
Maugis laughed scornfully and replied with great indignation:
“Charlemagne, thy master, should know me well enough not to make
a proposition to me which is little better than an insult. As to
delivering to him my brother Richard, I would not commit such an act of
cowardice even to a stranger who had put himself under my protection.”
A low murmur of applause sounded throughout the audience-chamber at
these brave words.
“Thou canst, however, tell the emperor,” continued Maugis sorrowfully,
“that if instead of pursuing and fighting us he will grant us all his
pardon and take us into his service once more, as we are perfectly
disposed to do, we will surrender to him and will deliver up our
castle.”
“And this is all thy answer?” demanded the envoy.
“It is all,” replied Maugis.
The proposition of Maugis was so fair that most of the counsellors
of Charlemagne were of the opinion that he should accept it, but
Ganelon and his allies worked so successfully upon the self-pride of
Charlemagne as to lead him to refuse to consider these wise counsels
and to declare that he should not stop until he had completely
vanquished the five young men who had so persistently balked and
humiliated him.
He forthwith ordered the camp pitched around Montaubon, so as to
completely invest it, placing his own tent before the oriental gate,
while Roland placed his tent at the side opposite. Besides all these
preparations Roland studied the fortress with the closest attention,
replying to all observations that it seemed truly impregnable.
Thus a regular siege was commenced, it being the intention to reduce
the place by famine; so, as the days passed, the life of the soldiers
became very tranquil, some trifling skirmishes and keeping a close
watch being about all that occupied them.
This state of quiet gave their chiefs an abundant opportunity to make
excursions into the surrounding country, and it chanced one day, when
Roland and Olivier and his suite made such an expedition, that Maugis,
who kept well posted as to the movements of the enemy, resolved to
humiliate him.
He commanded his brothers to take a thousand men each, and sortie
quietly into the forest. He then, himself alone, secretly penetrated
into the camp of the allies, and stealing to the tent of Roland,
succeeded in reversing the royal dragon flag that waved over it.
A short time afterward the wary Archbishop Turpin, seeing a number of
birds fly out of the forest over his camp, shrewdly divined that troops
were ambuscaded there, and he soon ascertained that his suspicions were
correct. To summon Oger and tell him to put his soldiers under arms
was but the work of an instant. Meanwhile, Maugis, seeing they were
discovered, ordered his cousin Renaud with his one thousand men to
continue in the woods concealed, while he, with his three brothers with
their troops, boldly attacked the camp. They overturned and destroyed
the tents, and slew all whom they encountered, throwing them into
the utmost confusion, while cries arose on every hand for Roland and
Olivier, who of course did not respond, being absent.
The warlike Archbishop Turpin, furious to see everything upset in that
manner, threw himself upon Maugis, and so fierce was the combat that
ensued between them that their swords were broken in their hands, but
each still stood firm. Finally, Maugis gave a terrible stroke on the
fragment of the sword which the archbishop still fought with, which
caused the warrior priest to stagger.
“Good father!” exclaimed Maugis mockingly, “thou art greater in the
church than in the field.”
“S’death!” shouted the infuriated archbishop in reply, attacking Maugis
yet more furiously.
All the forces were now engaged, but they could not resist the
impetuous onslaught of the soldiers of the sons of Aymon, and to add to
their discomfiture Renaud came out of the forest with his detachment,
surprising the enemy in the rear, who, already nearly defeated, were
by this movement entirely put to rout. Conquered and exhausted, they
flew in all directions to gain the main body of the royal troops on the
other side of the castle.
The spoils gained by the victors were considerable, and were all safely
carried into Montaubon. Maugis, who had captured the dragon flag from
the tent of Roland, caused it to be placed on the highest tower in
defiance of his enemies.
The emperor, on the other side of the mountain on which the castle
was perched, knowing nothing of what was occurring, chanced to see
the dragon flying from the battlements of Montaubon, and thought that
Roland had become master of the fortress, and he gave way for a moment
to immoderate joy.
“I have lost many men,” cried he, “but the Aymons are now in my power.”
His illusion, however, was short lived.
It was nightfall when Roland and Olivier returned from their excursion,
not knowing anything had happened, and, when near the camp, they were
met by an officer, who quickly apprised them of what had occurred.
Roland thereupon hurried to the archbishop to learn full particulars of
the disaster, and together they sought the emperor, who was prepared to
give them a stern reprimand, but who was seized with such consternation
on hearing their story that he contented himself with giving them
instructions to be more vigilant in future while they were before an
enemy so active as Maugis.
This exciting episode, as well as the fact that he had not been able to
defeat his enemies, caused the emperor to become so exasperated that he
resolved he never would quit his camp until the château fortress was
taken. Ganelon advised him to attack Maugis by securing the perfidy
and abandonment of his allies, which counsel Charlemagne finally
reluctantly followed.
An envoy was sent to the King of Acquitaine, that he had entered the
kingdom with one hundred thousand men, and that it was his intention to
put everything to fire and the sword.
King Yon was very much disturbed by these menaces, and his courtiers
were at once divided into two parties. The one headed by the
treacherous abbé, who pointed out to the worried monarch that what was
occurring was what was predicted to him as the result of harboring
Maugis and his brothers, and that now was the time to yield them up and
save the kingdom and its people from certain destruction.
The other side, however, the true soldiers and brave men, urged upon
the king that they respect their word once given.
“Sire!” exclaimed a brave old knight, “these five intrepid knights,
when they found you in distress and your kingdom all but destroyed,
spared neither themselves nor their soldiers in thy succor. It would
surely be an offense to heaven to now retract all thy pledges to
them and to desert them in their necessity. It would be the basest
ingratitude.”
These brave words met with a murmur of approval from the assembled
courtiers, and emboldened several other knights to speak out in support
of the fair treatment of the brave brothers.
The king was sore perplexed, beset on one side by the influence of the
foul conspirators who had gained his confidence, and more than all by a
desire to save his kingdom from devastation and the possible overthrow
of his dynasty.
His countenance plainly evidenced the confusion which these varying
demands had brought upon him.
It is an old proverb that “He who hesitates is lost.” And the active
and ever ready abbé, seizing this moment as a favorable opportunity,
leaned forward and whispered in the ear of the hesitating king: “Sire,
this is truly a matter too important to decide with undue haste.
Sleep upon its consideration until the morrow, that a proper issue of
this most unhappy matter may be conceived.” This suggestion for delay
did not meet with the approval of many of the knights present, who,
admiring the bravery of the sons of Aymon, were unfavorable to any
hesitancy in according them just treatment.
They signalized their disfavor by loud murmurs, but King Yon weakly
gave way to the perfidious counsel for delay. Saying with a show of
decision: “We will allow the subject to rest until the morrow,” and
thereupon arose from his throne terminating the sitting.
The old knight, who had been so outspoken in favor of the brothers,
smote the hilt of his sword with anger until it rang. This was the
signal for a chorus of dissent from the assembled soldiers, which
ominous sound greeted the ears of the departing monarch without avail
though the test of his will was to be strained to very near to the
breaking; he was about to commit an act utterly at variance with the
nobility of character he had heretofore shown; and in the moral ruin
not only were those whom he loved about to be involved, but he himself
was to perish in the disaster.
The delay the perplexed monarch granted gave the Abbé Gorieux, Godefroy
and other malcontents of the court an opportunity they were not slow
to avail themselves of. That night a secret conference was held in the
private library of the king, at which the abbé was the spokesman. Said
he:
“Your majesty, the hesitancy you show in deciding this matter does
credit to your noble impulses; it is without doubt true that these
young men have rendered you great service, they came boldly and
skillfully to your rescue, when you were in need of succor, and you
have the right to be grateful to them; but, sire, you owe a duty
to your people and to your country far paramount to all personal
considerations. In your gratitude you have rewarded these knights in
a princely manner, you have generously fulfilled your obligations
to them, but in so doing you have caused a danger to threaten your
kingdom, your people, and your royal person, which there is but one way
to avert. Where now lies your duty? Is it in the suicidal policy of
resistance against the overmastering strength of Charlemagne? in which
there is nothing but certain ruin to all concerned; the overthrow of
your kingdom, pillage, flames and death for your unfortunate subjects.
Then, sire, how can you hesitate? Resist, and all these misfortunes
come upon you and your people; accede to Charlemagne’s demand and you
sacrifice the few to save the many.”
“How can I do this?” questioned the hesitating monarch; “you forget my
oath.”
“I do not forget thine oath, sire,” sternly continued the abbé; “I
can assure thee, in virtue of my holy office, that God will hold thee
absolved from an oath that will cost such dire misfortune to thy
country. Thy oath to thy people and thy kingly duty hath by far the
greater demand upon thee.”
The poor king bowed his head in the deepest dejection, the act he
was asked to commit revolted him, and there was going on within him
a bitter struggle between his self-interest and his duty to the sons
D’Aymon; then, too, he thought of the suffering of his sister. For a
moment the better nature was in the ascendancy. The wily abbé studied
his face and read there the struggle going on within; too crafty to
descend to lying, it only remained for the base Godefroy to complete
the work. Said he:
“In good sooth, sire; thou wouldst not hold thy oath to this sorcerer
and his brothers so heavy a burden on thy conscience didst thou but
know that they now conspire to rob thee of thy throne. This, I can
assure thee, I have from one who is in their counsel.”
“Art sure?” queried the king, arousing.
“I can prove this beyond a doubt,” replied the lying Godefroy.
“Enough!” cried King Yon, “let it be so, I will contend against thee no
longer.”
Then it was, the dishonored king, at the dead of night, conspired with
the enemies of Maugis to deliver him into the hands of Charlemagne,
which being complete, the king retired, at last easy in mind over the
prospect that he would be allowed undisturbed possession of his kingdom.