Ogier, the Dane, was the son
of Geoffrey, who wrested Denmark from the Pagans,
and reigned the first Christian king of that country.
When Ogier was born, and before he was baptized, six
ladies of ravishing beauty appeared all at once in
the chamber of the infant. They encircled him,
and she who appeared the eldest took him in her arms,
kissed him, and laid her hand upon his heart.
“I give you,” said she, “to be the
bravest warrior of your times.” She delivered
the infant to her sister, who said, “I give
you abundant opportunities to display your valor.”
“Sister,” said the third lady, “you
have given him a dangerous boon; I give him that he
shall never be vanquished.” The fourth
sister added, as she laid her hand upon his eyes and
his mouth, “I give you the gift of pleasing.”
The fifth said, “Lest all these gifts serve
only to betray, I give you sensibility to return the
love you inspire.” Then spoke Morgana,
the youngest and handsomest of the group. “Charming
creature, I claim you for my own; and I give you not
to die till you shall have come to pay me a visit in
my isle of Avalon.” Then she kissed the
child and departed with her sisters.
After this the king had the child
carried to the font and baptized with the name of
Ogier.
In his education nothing was neglected
to elevate him to the standard of a perfect knight,
and render him accomplished in all the arts necessary
to make him a hero.
He had hardly reached the age of sixteen
years when Charlemagne, whose power was established
over all the sovereigns of his time, recollected that
Geoffroy, Ogier’s father, had omitted to render
the homage due to him as Emperor, and sovereign lord
of Denmark, one of the grand fiefs of the empire.
He accordingly sent an embassy to demand of the king
of Denmark this homage, and on receiving a refusal,
couched in haughty terms, sent an army to enforce
the demand. Geoffroy, after an unsuccessful resistance,
was forced to comply, and as a pledge of his sincerity
delivered Ogier, his eldest son, a hostage to Charles,
to be brought up at his court. He was placed
in charge of the Duke Namo of Bavaria, the friend
of his father, who treated him like his own son.
Ogier grew up more and more handsome
and amiable every day. He surpassed in form,
strength, and address all the noble youths his companions;
he failed not to be present at all tourneys; he was
attentive to the elder knights, and burned with impatience
to imitate them. Yet his heart rose sometimes
in secret against his condition as a hostage, and
as one apparently forgotten by his father.
The King of Denmark, in fact, was
at this time occupied with new loves. Ogier’s
mother having died, he had married a second wife, and
had a son named Guyon. The new queen had absolute
power over her husband, and fearing that, if he should
see Ogier again, he would give him the preference
over Guyon, she had adroitly persuaded him to delay
rendering his homage to Charlemagne, till now four
years had passed away since the last renewal of that
ceremony. Charlemagne, irritated at this delinquency,
drew closer the bonds of Ogier’s captivity until
he should receive a response from the king of Denmark
to a fresh summons which he caused to be sent to him.
The answer of Geoffroy was insulting
and defiant, and the rage of 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.