Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race
was suddenly attacked by an overwhelming body of mountaineers, Gascons
and Basques, who, resenting the violation of their mountain
sanctuaries, and longing for plunder, drove the Frankish rearguard
into a little valley (now marked by the chapel of Ibagneta and still
called Roncesvalles), and there slew every man.
The Historic Basis
The whole romantic legend of Roland has sprung from the simple words
in a contemporary chronicle, "In which battle was slain Roland,
prefect of the marches of Brittany."[12]
This same fight of Roncesvalles was the theme of an archaic poem, the
"Song of Altobiscar," written about 1835. In it we hear the exultation
of the Basques as they see the knights of France fall beneath their
onslaughts. The Basques are on the heights--they hear the trampling of
a mighty host which throngs the narrow valley below: its numbers are
as countless as the sands of the sea, its movement as resistless as
the waves which roll those sands on the shore. Awe fills the bosoms of
the mountain tribesmen, but their leader is undaunted. "Let us unite
our strong arms!" he cries aloud. "Let us tear our rocks from their
beds and hurl them upon the enemy! Let us crush and slay them all!" So
said, so done: the rocks roll plunging into the valley, slaying whole
troops in their descent. "And what mangled flesh, what broken bones,
what seas of blood! Soon of that gallant band not one is left alive;
night covers all, the eagles devour the flesh, and the bones whiten in
this valley to all eternity!"
A Spanish Version
So runs the "Song of Altobiscar." But Spain too claims part of the
honour of the day of Roncesvalles. True, Roland was in reality
slain by Basques, not by Spaniards; but Spain, eager to share the
honour, has glorified a national hero, Bernardo del Carpio, who, in
the Spanish legend, defeats Roland in single combat and wins the day.
The Italian Orlando
Italy has laid claim to Roland, and in the guise of Orlando, Orlando
Furioso, Orlando Innamorato, has made him into a fantastic, chivalrous
knight, a hero of many magical adventures.
Roland in French Literature
Noblest of all, however, is the development of the "Roland Saga" in
French literature; for, even setting aside much legendary lore and
accumulated tradition, the Roland of the old epic is a perfect hero of
the early days of feudalism, when chivalry was in its very beginnings,
before the cult of the Blessed Virgin Mary added the grace of courtesy
to its heroism. Evidently Roland had grown in importance before the
"Chanson de Roland" took its present form, for we find the rearguard
skirmish magnified into a great battle, which manifestly contains
recollections of later Saracen invasions and Gascon revolts. As befits
the hero of an epic, Roland is now of royal blood, the nephew of the
great emperor, who has himself increased in age and splendour; this
heroic Roland can obviously only be overcome by the treachery of one
of the Franks themselves, so there appears the traitor Ganelon (a
Romance version of a certain Danilo or Nanilo), who is among the
Twelve Peers what Judas was among the Apostles; the mighty Saracens,
not the insignificant Basques, are now the victors; and the vengeance
taken by Charlemagne on the Saracens and on the traitor is boldly
added to history, which leaves the disaster unavenged. Thus the bare
fact was embroidered over gradually by the historical imagination,
aided by patriotism, until a really national hero was evolved out of
an obscure Breton count.
The "Chanson de Roland"
The "Song of Roland," as we now have it, seems to be a late version of
an Anglo-Norman poem, made by a certain Turoldus or Thorold; and it
must bear a close resemblance to that chant which fired the soldiers
of William the Norman at Hastings, when
"Taillefer, the noble singer,
On his war-horse swift and fiery,
Rode before the Norman host;
Tossed his sword in air and caught it,
Chanted loud the death of Roland,
And the peers who perished with him
At the pass of Roncevaux."
_Roman de Rou._
The "Song of Roland" bears an intimate relation to the development of
European thought, and the hero is doubly worth our study as hero and
as type of national character. Thus runs the story:
The Story
The Emperor Charles the Great, Carolus Magnus, or Charlemagne, had
been for seven years in Spain, and had conquered it from sea to sea,
except Saragossa, which, among its lofty mountains, and ruled by its
brave king Marsile, had defied his power. Marsile still held to his
idols, Mahomet, Apollo, and Termagaunt, dreading in his heart the day
when Charles would force him to become a Christian.
The Saracen Council
The Saracen king gathered a council around him, as he reclined on a
seat of blue marble in the shade of an orchard, and asked the advice
of his wise men.
"'My lords,' quoth he, 'you know our grievous state.
The mighty Charles, great lord of France the fair,
Has spread his hosts in ruin o'er our land.
No armies have I to resist his course,
No people have I to destroy his hosts.
Advise me now, what counsel shall I take
To save my race and realm from death and shame?'"
Blancandrin's Advice
A wily emir, Blancandrin, of Val-Fonde, was the only man who replied.
He was wise in counsel, brave in war, a loyal vassal to his lord.
"'Fear not, my liege,' he answered the sad king.
'Send thou to Charles the proud, the arrogant,
And offer fealty and service true,
With gifts of lions, bears, and swift-foot hounds,
Seven hundred camels, falcons, mules, and gold--
As much as fifty chariots can convey--
Yea, gold enough to pay his vassals all.
Say thou thyself will take the Christian faith,
And follow him to Aix to be baptized.
If he demands thy hostages, then I
And these my fellows give our sons to thee,
To go with Charles to France, as pledge of truth.
Thou wilt not follow him, thou wilt not yield
To be baptized, and so our sons must die;
But better death than life in foul disgrace,
With loss of our bright Spain and happy days.'
So cried the pagans all; but Marsile sat
Thoughtful, and yet at last accepted all."
An Embassy to Charlemagne
Now King Marsile dismissed the council with words of thanks, only
retaining near him ten of his most famous barons, chief of whom was
Blancandrin; to them he said: "My lords, go to Cordova, where Charles
is at this time. Bear olive-branches in your hands, in token of peace,
and reconcile me with him. Great shall be your reward if you succeed.
Beg Charles to have pity on me, and I will follow him to Aix within a
month, will receive the Christian law, and become his vassal in love
and loyalty."
"Sire," said Blancandrin, "you shall have a good treaty!"
The ten messengers departed, bearing olive-branches in their hands,
riding on white mules, with reins of gold and saddles of silver, and
came to Charles as he rested after the siege of Cordova, which he had
just taken and sacked.
Reception by Charlemagne
Charlemagne was in an orchard with his Twelve Peers and fifteen
thousand veteran warriors of France. The messengers from the heathen
king reached this orchard and asked for the emperor; their gaze
wandered over groups of wise nobles playing at chess, and groups of
gay youths fencing, till at last it rested on a throne of solid gold,
set under a pine-tree and overshadowed with eglantine. There sat
Charles, the king who ruled fair France, with white flowing beard and
hoary head, stately of form and majestic of countenance. No need was
there of usher to cry: "Here sits Charles the King."
The ambassadors greeted Charlemagne with all honour, and Blancandrin
opened the embassy thus:
"Peace be with you from God the Lord of Glory whom you adore! Thus
says the valiant King Marsile: He has been instructed in your faith,
the way of salvation, and is willing to be baptized; but you have been
too long in our bright Spain, and should return to Aix. There will
he follow you and become your vassal, holding the kingdom of Spain at
your hand. Gifts have we brought from him to lay at your feet, for he
will share his treasures with you!"
He is Perplexed
Charlemagne raised his hands in thanks to God, but then bent his head
and remained thinking deeply, for he was a man of prudent mind,
cautious and far-seeing, and never spoke on impulse. At last he said
proudly: "Ye have spoken fairly, but Marsile is my greatest enemy: how
can I trust your words?"
Blancandrin replied: "He will give hostages, twenty of our noblest
youths, and my own son will be among them. King Marsile will follow
you to the wondrous springs of Aix-la-Chapelle, and on the feast of
St. Michael will receive baptism in your court."
Thus the audience ended. The messengers were feasted in a pavilion
raised in the orchard, and the night passed in gaiety and
good-fellowship.
He Consults his Twelve Peers
In the early morning Charlemagne arose and heard Mass; then, sitting
beneath a pine-tree, he called the Twelve Peers to council. There came
the twelve heroes, chief of them Roland and his loyal brother-in-arms
Oliver; there came Archbishop Turpin; and, among a thousand loyal
Franks, there came Ganelon the traitor. When all were seated in due
order Charlemagne began:
"My lords and barons, I have received an embassy of peace from King
Marsile, who sends me great gifts and offers, but on condition that I
leave Spain and return to Aix. Thither will he follow me, to receive
the Faith, become a Christian and my vassal. Is he to be trusted?"
"Let us beware," cried all the Franks.
Roland Speaks
Roland, ever impetuous, now rose without delay, and spoke: "Fair uncle
and sire, it would be madness to trust Marsile. Seven years have we
warred in Spain, and many cities have I won for you, but Marsile has
ever been treacherous. Once before when he sent messengers with
olive-branches you and the French foolishly believed him, and he
beheaded the two counts who were your ambassadors to him. Fight
Marsile to the end, besiege and sack Saragossa, and avenge those who
perished by his treachery."
Ganelon Objects
Charlemagne looked out gloomily from under his heavy brows, he twisted
his moustache and pulled his long white beard, but said nothing, and
all the Franks remained silent, except Ganelon, whose hostility to
Roland showed clearly in his words:
"Sire, blind credulity were wrong and foolish, but follow up your own
advantage. When Marsile offers to become your vassal, to hold Spain at
your hand and to take your faith, any man who urges you to reject such
terms cares little for our death! Let pride no longer be your
counsellor, but hear the voice of wisdom."
The aged Duke Naimes, the Nestor of the army, spoke next, supporting
Ganelon: "Sire, the advice of Count Ganelon is wise, if wisely
followed. Marsile lies at your mercy; he has lost all, and only begs
for pity. It would be a sin to press this cruel war, since he offers
full guarantee by his hostages. You need only send one of your barons
to arrange the terms of peace."
This advice pleased the whole assembly, and a murmur was heard: "The
Duke has spoken well."
"Who Shall Go to Saragossa?"
"'My lords and peers, whom shall we send
To Saragossa to Marsile?'
'Sire, let me go,' replied Duke Naimes;
'Give me your glove and warlike staff.'
'No!' cried the king, 'my counsellor,
Thou shalt not leave me unadvised--
Sit down again; I bid thee stay.'
"'My lords and peers, whom shall we send
To Saragossa to Marsile?'
'Sire, I can go,' quoth Roland bold.