HOW CHARLEMAGNE CROSSED THE ALPS
It was near the time of the solemn festival of Easter,--the time whenNature seems to rise from the grave, and the Earth puts on anew hergarb of youth and beauty. King Charlemagne was at St. Omer; for therethe good Archbishop Turpin was making ready to celebrate the greatfeast with more than ordinary grandeur. Thither, too, had come themembers of the king's household, and a great number of lords andladies, the noblest in France.
Scarcely had the good archbishop pronounced a blessing upon the devoutmultitude assembled at the Easter service, when two messengers came inhot haste, and demanded to speak with the king. They had come fromRome, and they bore letters from Pope Leo. Sad was the news whichthese letters brought, but it was news which would fire the heart ofevery Christian knight. The Saracens had landed in Italy, and hadtaken Rome by assault. "The pope and the cardinals and the legateshave fled," said the letters; "the churches are torn down; the holyrelics are lost; and the Christians are put to the sword. Whereforethe Holy Father charges you as a Christian king to march at once to thehelp of the Church."
It needed no word of Charlemagne to arouse the ardor of his warriors.Every other undertaking must be laid aside, so long as Rome and theChurch were in danger. And the heralds proclaimed that on the morrow,at break of day, the army would move southward toward Italy.
The morning after Easter dawned, and the great army waited for thesignal to march. The bugles sounded, and the long line of steel-cladknights and warriors began to move. Charlemagne rode in the frontranks, ready, like a true knight, to brave every difficulty, and to bethe first in every post of danger. Never did a better king wear spur.
Great was the haste with which the army moved, and very impatient werethe warriors; for the whole of France lay between them and fair Italy,and they knew that weeks of weary marching must be endured, ere theycould meet their Pagan foe in battle, and drive him out of theChristians' land.
Many days they rode among the rich fields and between the bloomingorchards of the Seine valley; many days they toiled over unbrokenforest roads, and among marshes and bogs, and across untroddenmoorlands. They climbed steep hills, and swam broad rivers, andendured the rain and the wind and the fierce heat of the noonday sun,and sometimes even the pangs of hunger and thirst. But they carriedbrave hearts within them; and they comforted themselves with thethought that all their suffering was for the glory of God and the honorof the king, for their country's safety and the security of their homes.
Every day, as they advanced, the army increased in numbers and instrength: for the news had been carried all over the land, that theSaracens had taken Rome, and that Charlemagne with his host washastening to the rescue; and knights and noblemen from every city andtown and countryside came to join his standard, sometimes alone andsingly, and sometimes with a great retinue of fighting men andservitors. When at last they had passed the boundaries of France, andonly the great mountains lay between them and Italy, Charlemagne couldlook behind him, and see an army of a hundred thousand men. And nowmessengers came to him again, urging him to hasten with all speed tothe succor of the pope.
But the Alps Mountains lifted themselves up in his pathway, and theirsnowy crags frowned threateningly upon him; their steep, rocky sidesarose like walls before him, and seemed to forbid his going farther;and there appeared to be no way of reaching Italy, save by a long andcircuitous route through the southern passes.
In the hope that he might find some shorter and easier passage,Charlemagne now sent out scouts and mountaineers to explore everyvalley and gorge, and every seeming mountain pass. But all came backwith the same story: there was not even so much as a path up which themountain goats could clamber, much less a road broad enough for anarmy, with horses and baggage, to traverse. The king was in despair,and he called together his counsellors and wise men to consider whatshould be done. Duke Namon urged that they should march around by wayof the southern passes; for, although a full month would thus be lost,yet there was no other safe and well-known land-route to Italy.Ganelon advised that they should turn back, and, marching toMarseilles, embark from thence on ships, and undertake to reach Rome byway of the sea.
Then the dwarf Malagis came before Charlemagne, bearing in his hand abook, from which he read many spells and weird enchantments. Upon theground he drew with his wand a magic ring, and he laid therein thehammer of Thor and the sword of Mahomet. In a loud, commanding voice,he called upon the sprites, the trolls, and the goblins, with whom hewas familiar, to come at once into his presence. Forthwith thelightning flashed, and the thunder rolled, and smoke and fire burstforth from the mountain peaks, and the rocks and great ice-fields wereloosened among the crags, and came tumbling down into the valley.Dwarfs and elves, and many an uncanny thing, danced and shouted in themountain caves; grinning ogres peeped out from the deep clefts andgorges; and the very air seemed full of ghost-like creatures. Then thewizard called by name a wise but wicked goblin, known among theSaracens as Ashtaroth; and the goblin came at once, riding in awhirlwind, and feeling very angry because he was obliged to obey.
"Tell me now," said Malagis, "and tell me truly, whether there is hereso much as a pathway by which Charlemagne may lead his army through themountains."
The goblin was silent for a moment; a dark cloud rested upon his face,and his look was terrible. But the wizard, in no wise daunted,returned his glance, and in the tones of a master bade him clear upthat clouded look, and answer the question he had asked. ThenAshtaroth curbed his anger, and spoke:
"On what errand would the French king cross the Alps?" he asked."Seeks he not to harm my friends the Saracens?"
"That is, indeed, his errand," answered Malagis.
"Then, why should I do aught to help him?" asked the goblin. "Why doyou call me from my rest, and bid me betray my friends?"
"That is not for thee to ask," said Malagis. "I have called thee as amaster calls his slave. Tell me now, and tell me truly, is there hereany pass across the mountains into Italy?"
"There is such a pass," answered the goblin gravely; "but it is hiddento eyes like mine. I cannot guide you to it, nor can any of my kindshow you how to find it. It is a pathway which only the pure cantread."
"Tell me one thing more," said Malagis. "Tell me one thing, and I willlet thee go. How prosper thy friends the Saracens at Rome?"
"They have taken all but the Capitol," was the answer. "They haveslain many Christians, and burned many buildings. The pope and thecardinals have fled. If Charlemagne reach not Italy within a month,ill will it fare with his friends."
Then Malagis, satisfied with what he had heard, unwound the spell ofhis enchantments; and amid a cloud of fire and smoke the goblin flewback into the mountains.
Next the good Turpin came forward, with a crosier in his hand, and abishop's mitre on his head, and a long white robe thrown over hisshoulders, scarcely hiding the steel armor which he wore beneath. Helifted up his eyes to heaven and prayed. And the sound of his voicearose among the cliffs, and resounded among the rocks, and was echoedfrom valley to valley, and re-echoed among the peaks and crags, andcarried over the mountain tops, even to the blue sky above. The kingand those who stood about him fancied that they heard sweet strains ofmusic issuing from the mountain caves; the most bewitching sounds aroseamong the rocks and gorges; the air was filled with a heavenly perfumeand the songs of birds; and a holy calm settled over mountain andvalley, and fell like a blessing upon the earth. Then the Alps nolonger seemed obstacles in their way. The steep cliffs, which had beenlike mighty walls barring their progress, seemed now mere gentleslopes, rising little by little toward heaven, and affording a pleasantand easy highway to the fair fields of Italy beyond.
While Charlemagne and his peers gazed in rapt delight upon this vision,there came down from the mountain crags a beautiful creature such asnone of them had ever before seen. It was a noble stag, white as thedrifted snow, his head crowned with wide-branching antlers, from everypoint of which bright sunbeams seem
ed to flash.
"Behold our leader and our hope!" cried Turpin. "Behold thesure-footed guide which the Wonder-king has sent to lead us throughnarrow ways, and over dangerous steeps, to the smiling valleys andfields of Italy! Be only strong and trustful and believing, and a safeway shall open for us, even where there seemed to be no way."
Then the vision faded slowly away from the sight of the peers; and themountain walls rose up before them as grim and steep as ever; and thesnow-crowned crags looked down upon them even more angrily than before,and there seemed no road nor pathway which the foot of man couldfollow. But the wondrous white stag, which had filled their minds witha new-born hope, still stood in plain sight on the lowermost slopes ofthe mountain.
The king, without once taking his eyes from the Heaven-sent creature,mounted his war-steed, and sounded the bugle which hung at his girdle;and the great army, confiding in the wisdom of their leader, began tomove. The white stag went first, steadily following a narrow pathway,which led upward by many steep ascents, seemingly to the very clouds;and behind him rode Charlemagne, keeping ever in view his radiant,hopeful guide, and followed by the long line of knights and warriors,who, cheered by his earnest faith, never once feared the end.
Higher and higher they climbed, and more and more difficult became theway. On one side of them arose a steep wall, shutting out from theirsight more than half of the sky; on the other side, dark gorges andyawning gulfs descended, threatening to bury the whole army in theirbottomless depths. And by and by they came to the region of snow andice, where the Storm-king holds his court, and reigns in ever-lastingsolitude. Looking back, they could see sweet France, lying spread outas a map beneath them, its pleasant fields and its busy towns seemingonly as specks in the dim distance. But when they looked forward,hoping there to see a like map of fair Italy, only the rocks and theice, and the narrow pathway, and the desolate mountain crags, met theirsight.
They would have become disheartened by the difficulties before them,and have turned back in utter despair, had not the bright form of theirguide, and the cheerful countenance of Charlemagne, inspired them withever-renewed hope. For seven days they toiled among the dangeroussteeps; and on the eighth a glorious vision burst upon their view--thesmiling plains of Italy lay before them.
At this sight a great shout of joy went up from the throats of thetoil-worn heroes, and the good archbishop returned thanks to Heaven fortheir deliverance from peril. And, a few hours later, the whole armyemerged into the pleasant valleys of Piedmont, and encamped not farfrom Aosta.
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