The captivity of the Duke de Normandie was insupportable to
Charlemagne, for he was one of his bravest and most redoubtable
knights. The emperor complained bitterly to his peers and raved like a
man out of his senses at the infamy of Maugis in retaining his prisoner.
“Consider, sire,” responded Roland to him, “it seems to me that Maugis
is perfectly right, and I am astonished that you fail to recognize
it. He would be pushing his generosity to blindness if he allowed
Richard to go. Do you not remember how grandly Maugis has acted in the
past, and with what admiration he has inspired us all? How he gave
you back your crown and your treasures; how he returned to each of us
our swords, which he had a perfect right to keep? Can you not see in
these actions not only generosity, but grandeur of soul of the highest
degree? Alas! how have you returned these acts of greatness? You
tightened the cordon around Montaubon and besieged him anew with such
vigor that only a few soldiers and their families escaped. The rest of
the inhabitants died of famine or of pest. You have pursued him with
bitterness and sought to take him alive that you might make him suffer
the most rigorous punishment. If he captured the Duke Richard, was the
duke not pursuing him to the very entrance of the city, in order to
capture him and deliver him to you? Again, do you not remember what you
would have done to his brother Richard, when you had him in your power?
That he escaped death was certainly not due to your pardon, but because
Maugis wrested him from the hands of his executioners.”
“Of what avail to thus recount the past?” demanded Charlemagne uneasily.
“Simply this, sire!” continued Roland boldly. “If Maugis should release
the Duke de Normandie, I should tax him of folly. I am surprised he has
been so lenient as not to execute him at once, and if you would save
him from that fate, it would be best for you to take immediate steps by
granting Maugis those conditions of peace he has so long desired.
“Never!” cried Charlemagne obstinately.
“Sire, I beseech thee, reflect,” persuaded Roland. “Reverse your
decision and do not seek to further abuse the magnanimity of a man so
brave as Maugis. Grant him, therefore, sire, peace. I ask it of you in
the name of all your most noble knights.”
These sincere words at last produced on Charlemagne the most profound
impression. He thereupon charged Oger and the Duke de Naimes to go
to Maugis and offer him peace on condition of the surrender of the
Duke Richard de Normandie, only he clung tenaciously to his first idea
concerning Renaud. He still insisted that Renaud should be delivered to
him. It was in vain his peers represented to him that this condition
would be refused as it had been in the past; but he turned a deaf ear
to them, and still persisted in his resolutions.
At this moment Pinabel, who had recovered from his fright, came running
up.
“Beware,” cried he. “Know thou that the old knight, who yesterday
enchanted me by his magical powers; the pilgrim whom you have fed, the
infirm and paralyzed knight whom you congratulated yesterday on the
result of the combat, are one and the same man, and that man is Maugis.”
At first they were all incredulous, but Charlemagne finally divined the
truth; but beyond creating astonishment it made no impression upon him.
He turned to Oger and De Naimes, and bade them go at once to Maugis and
lay before him his proposition.
The ambassadors at once proceeded to Dordogne, and in due time were
presented to Maugis, who gave them a cordial reception.
The Duke de Naimes laid before him the proposals of the emperor.
“Charlemagne has not departed at all from his original conditions,”
said Maugis in reply. “It is always the same. I would never deliver up
my cousin Renaud. An Aymon is incapable of such cowardice. He asks for
the Duke de Normandie—does he suppose I have lost all my bitterness?
No, the oppression of the emperor has hardened my heart. I am unpitying
now. The Duke Richard shall suffer execution, and you, sir knights,”
he added sternly, “if you ever come before me again and insult me with
such infamous propositions I will treat you as traitors and spies.”
The three envoys upon hearing this firm response turned away without a
word, provoked that the emperor would not recognize the noble character
of this man. They remounted their horses and returned to the camp,
where they repeated to him the words of Maugis, and swore to him that
he was now thoroughly angered, but Charlemagne seemed to be blind to
the qualities of such a brave man.
“Take care, sire!” cried Oger, “Maugis has been brave and generous up
to this day, but if he has lost his patience he will likely be severe
to the other extreme. Richard de Normandie is now in his hands, who can
guarantee he will be the only victim?”
Charlemagne reflected at this in silence, and was about to order Oger
and Roland to return to Maugis, when Pinabel once again intervened and
prevented the utterance of this good thought.
“It is difficult for me to see, sir knights,” said he, “why you all
seem to be in such fear of Maugis. That he is a brave man is true, but
why should the emperor retrace his steps? Do you not remember that
Maugis has demanded peace several times? Well! do you think that he
would dare to touch a hair of the Duke de Normandie? He knows too well
it would be the departure for him of the last chance of either pardon
or mercy.”
This subtle advice, so harmonious to the prejudices of the emperor, had
the effect intended by Pinabel and the coterie of cowardly courtiers
who sympathized with him and who applauded the emperor when he uttered
these words:
“Enough! I do not know why I have been so weak as to bother with these
rebels. I can clearly see that if I commence to cede anything I can
continue to do so. Go,” said he, turning to the Duke de Naimes, “and
signify my will to Maugis, and say to him that the end of this day ends
every chance for him to secure any conditions of grace from me if he
does not submit to my conditions.”
Understanding at the outset that his mission would be a failure, and
thoroughly disgusted by the weakness of the emperor, the Duke de Naimes
declared shortly:
“Your majesty, I refuse to accept the mission,” and then withdrew from
the audience.
While this discussion was occurring at the imperial camp, Maugis was
deliberating with his three brothers as to the fate of the Duke de
Normandie. His associates would have him suffer the same fate as
that to which Charlemagne had condemned one or the other of them.
Accordingly, Maugis gave orders that preparations should be made for
the execution, and to give it proper effect, that it should take
place from the highest tower of Dordogne, in full view of the camp of
Charlemagne.
These preparations were no sooner commenced than they were perceived
by Roland, who guarded that side, and he hurried immediately to the
emperor, filled with indignation.
“Sire,” said he, “is this the way you recompense the Duke Richard
for his devotion to you? If this be the way you recognize faithful
services, it will be but little encouragement to those who remain with
you. I swear for myself that I thought to see more generosity on your
part.”
“Have no fears, Roland,” replied the emperor lightly; “these
preparations, which cause thee so much uneasiness, are merely a threat;
they are simply a means employed by Maugis to force us to come to terms
of peace. As for the Duke Richard, rest assured, I have no fears for
his life.”
The next day, when everything was complete, the brave and fearless
Richard de Normandie sat in a strong room over the citadel of Dordogne,
engaged in a game of chess with Yon, the eldest son of Maugis, when two
officers with a guard appeared and announced they had come to bring
him to execution. He paid no attention to them, but calmly continued
his game.
“My lord,” said the officer respectfully, “it is very painful to me to
interrupt thy game with this summons, but I have my orders, and must
execute them.”
Suddenly, and without warning, Richard leaped to his feet, and seizing
the heavy chessboard and using it as a weapon, he fell upon the guard
with such suddenness and fury that four of them were stretched lifeless
on the floor and the rest were driven from the room. Then he seated
himself and ranging the men upon the chessboard, continued the game
as calmly as if he had not been interrupted, calling his servants
and ordering them to remove the bodies of the soldiers with all the
coolness that he would command some small service.
The young son of Maugis was trembling so much at this violence that he
could not play, and Alard, who was waiting in the courtyard below for
the coming of Richard, being apprised of what had occurred, hurried to
Maugis, reporting that Richard was making a strong resistance, and had
taken the lives of the men sent to seize him.
Maugis went at once to the chamber of Richard, and demanded of him:
“Sir knight, why hast thou killed my people?”
“They came here,” responded Richard; “several men who interrupted
the game of chess I was playing with your son. They put their hands
on me, and I killed some of them, and put the rest to flight, that is
all. It is no reason because I am your prisoner why your people should
insult me.”
[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF MOUZON.]
“We do not omit politeness here,” said Maugis, “and I know perfectly
well all the laws of chivalry. It is for that reason I am acting
this way. Charlemagne has abused me and has dishonored me. I simply
retaliate. You are my prisoner. I shall give you up to execution, that
is my right. Have I treated you the way my brother Richard was treated,
when he was condemned to the gibbet, and from which he escaped only
through the courage of his brothers? No, he was covered with chains
like a criminal. I would not subject you to that. I would employ no
violence with you, but you must realize that my soldiers came here to
fulfill orders they had received. There is only one way for you to
escape death, that is to join my service and become my friend.”
“That is impossible,” replied Richard. “I have sworn an oath of
fidelity to the emperor, and I never violate my oath.”
“Then you must be resigned to die. It is useless to lose any more time
in discussion that amounts to nothing.”
“Ah, well! let us go,” said Richard. “I know well the greatness of your
heart, and I deliver myself to you, believing you incapable of a mean
action.”
The Duke de Normandie forthwith surrendered, and was escorted to the
place of execution. Maugis had made preparations for that sorrowful
ceremony, so as to give it all the formidable display possible. All the
troops were under arms. At the last moment Maugis again appealed to
Richard:
“Brave knight,” said he, “it is most painful for me to send to
execution a man of such courage and honor—renounce then the emperor, I
pray thee, and join us in seeking to attain peace.”
“No,” replied Richard, “I have sworn homage to Charlemagne, and though
I die because of his fault, I will not break my oath. If it depended
upon me to grant thee peace, I could ask for nothing better; therefore
grant thou me delay that I may send word to the emperor.”
Maugis at once called a herald, bidding him to take the instructions of
Richard and go with them to Charlemagne.
“Tell him,” said Richard, “that I am at the foot of the gibbet,
to which I am attached ready for the signal of death, and that I
supplicate him to grant my demand for peace. You will also beg of
Roland and all the peers to seek to obtain the peace on which my life
depends.”
The herald hastened away and in due time appeared before Charlemagne
and acquitted him of his errand. Strange to say, the eccentric emperor
was inflexible, while he knew he was acting, with a few exceptions,
without the sympathy of his entire court, and even when all the peers,
without exception, fell on their knees to him, and supplicated him to
save Richard by granting peace to Maugis, Charlemagne was obdurate
and stern in his refusal to interfere, and as the herald was about to
withdraw, Roland stopped him.
“Say to Duke Richard de Normandie,” cried he, “that though the emperor
will blindly let him die, we, his courtiers, do protest and disapprove.
Tell him that we will abandon Charlemagne and his service, that we none
of us consent to devote ourselves to a prince who would be willing to
see a man sacrificed like him, merely to support his wounded vanity.”
It was an exciting moment. Then with one accord the peers acclaimed the
words of Roland.
The suspense was intense.
In the midst of it all Charlemagne sat stern and unchanged.
Then the Archbishop Turpin came forward and said: “Sire, I leave thee
with regret, but thou art committing a grave wrong. I must therefore
leave thee. I prefer to sustain my honor rather than abandon it in a
cowardly way.”
Charlemagne still sat with pallid face and stern brow, and said not a
word.
The peers, one after another, all then left his presence, each going
to their own quarters, forthwith gathering their belongings, striking
their tents and assembling their own soldiers, conducted them without
the imperial camp.
The remaining soldiers of the emperor gazed aghast, astonished and
fearful to see the army of Charlemagne reduced more than one-half by
the departure of the peers and their men.
Two men only viewed this movement with satisfaction. They thought that
now they had become indispensable to the emperor, and that they could
secure his confidence to their own profit. It is needless to say these
two were the traitorous Ganelon and the cowardly Pinabel.
In the meantime the herald had returned to Dordogne, and repeated
faithfully all that had occurred. The Duke de Normandie perceived
that it was useless to count on the support of any one who would thus
abandon him when he had shown the devotion of refusing to escape death
at the price of dishonor.
“It is well,” said he, turning to Maugis with a smile; “I am at thy
service. I am ready to die.”
“This is too much,” cried Maugis, hastening to Richard and embracing
him. “Pardon me,” said he, “for the cruel hours I have caused you to
pass. I was certain in advance that you would prefer death to being
false to your oath, and I only employed the stratagem to obtain by
force from the emperor what it seems impossible for me to obtain by
my prayers. There was no reason why Charlemagne should be wanting in
generosity to me in face of the support of such consequences. Thou
shalt not die.”
Maugis then sent his herald to the twelve deserting peers, bidding
him to tell them that in consideration of their grand action he had
pardoned Richard de Normandie.
In reply to this message the peers gave Maugis to understand that they
should refuse reconciliation with the emperor until he had granted him
peace.
The twelve peers then made preparations for their departure homeward,
but before leaving ranged themselves under the walls of Dordogne, and
exchanged signals of adieu with its brave defenders.
The Emperor Charlemagne, though a man of violent passions, obstinate
and eccentric, was withal a wise man. The view of these preparations
for departure of these noblemen, who had been his best friends, caused
him to seriously reflect. He was seized with grave doubts as to the
wisdom of his course, and he called Pinabel and told him of his fears.
Here it was the cowardly adviser failed to grasp the situation, which
called for the utmost diplomacy. Assuming upon his position now as the
sole adviser of the emperor, he uttered these bold words:
“Sire! I comprehend neither your fears nor your regrets,” said he. “Can
you not do for yourself as well as you could before the departure of
these rebellious knights? Have you not enough soldiers to reduce whom
you would, and then you may battle with your own subjects, who owe you
obeisance? Therefore force these contumacious peers to remain. You have
been made their commander and they must obey you.”
Charlemagne revolted at such advice against noblemen whom he loved,
especially coming from the mouth of a man who compared with them
neither in character nor ability, and one whom he distrusted more and
more. His eyes commenced their well-known ominous sparkling; like a
flash it all came to him, that this man, to whose insidious advice he
had listened so long, was guided by an ignoble ambition, that he had
not scrupled to compromise the dignity of his sovereign. Like a flash
it came to Charlemagne how he had been misled by the deceitful Abbé
Gorieux, who, however, by this time, had craftily absented himself,
no one knew whither, to escape what he saw was the inevitable end of
the conspirators. Like a flash it came to the now thoroughly aroused
Charlemagne how he had been misled by deceits and flatteries and
appeals to his self-pride to do injustice and compromise his dignity.
“Enough!” he thundered to the shrinking Pinabel. “Thou hast abused
my confidence; thou hast thought by appealing cunningly to my vanity
to prevent me from exercising my first and best thoughts; thou hast
worked on my pride to a point where I would lose my army rather than
see justice. It shall be so no longer. What, ho there! a guard,” he
shouted, and when the officers appeared, he ordered:
“Bind this villain hand and foot and bear him to the camp of the twelve
peers. Tell them,” he commanded, “that I deliver into their hands the
traitorous coward who has, by his perfidious councils, tried to sow
discord between us, and who, actuated by a mean jealousy of the brave
Maugis, has kept me always excited against the sons of Aymon. Tell them
to do with him what they will, I abandon him to their resentment. Tell
them that I hope they will take into account this tardy act of loyalty
on my part, and that they will return to my camp and continue to aid me
by their good counsels.”