Introduction
‘In no period of French literature, – neither in the romans d’aventure, nor in the society literature of the grand siècle, nor in the emancipated treatment of the modern novelists, – is woman more attractively and more truthfully, albeit often naïvely, portrayed than in the chansons de geste.’
William Wistar Comfort (p.105)
The chansons de geste, inspired originally by the historical deeds and legendary exploits of the great Frankish king and Western emperor Charlemagne (742–814), began as an orally composed and publicly presented form of entertainment for the pleasure and edification of the Frankish barons, whose delight in combat they reflected. The masterly level of sustained epic diction achieved in the Song of Roland (c. 1100), the earliest complete chanson de geste that has survived in manuscript today, reflects and consummates a long legacy, over one hundred years in fact, of prior oral composition within the genre. Roland is justly considered today as the first masterpiece of French literature, and one of the world’s greatest epic poems. It remains also, unfortunately, the only example of the chanson de geste genre to which modern English-speaking students or general readers are usually exposed – and even then, again most probably, only through specially selected passages. As one critic has aptly said, such modern readers of the Song of Roland ‘must be led to conclude that women are unimportant or even non-existent in the French epic’(Harrison, p.672). Indeed, the only two female characters in this 4,000 line poem (featuring well over one hundred named warriors) are the Saracen king’s wife Bramimond, who is mentioned in four episodes totalling 147 lines, and Roland’s fiancée Aude, who is mentioned in only twenty nine lines, and speaks in only five of them.
Both quantitatively and qualitatively Aude and Bramimond in the Song of Roland demonstrate, to the different degrees of their status as maid/fiancée and wife/queen respectively, the subordinate and supportive role to which early medieval society, and hence its imaginative representations, had relegated them. For the aristocratic male audiences who listened to these epic tales in the eleventh century, men ‘for whom national or vassalic duties were of the supreme interest, men who had consecrated themselves above all to national and religious service’ (Hindley & Levy, p.79), it was warfare and its associated moral and physical virtues that were of most importance and interest in life – the pursuit of individual or clan honour, not that of amorous adventure. Thus in the earliest ‘songs of deeds’ women figure very much as minor characters whose honour, like their status in society, is dependent on and reflected from males. Although the physical beauty of these early heroines is assumed, even regularly stated, it is not emphasised, and never the sole motivation for the taking up of arms. It is rather the mental and moral strengths of a woman – her wit, intelligence, constancy, diligence, practicality, and powers of will and endurance, – attributes that would make her ‘a fitting companion for the epic hero’ (Herman, p.214), that ornament the earliest preserved songs, such as Roland and the Song of William, and remain an admirable feature of several of the later ones too, such as Raoul of Cambrai, Aliscans, The Knights of Narbonne and Aspremont. It is not until the middle of the twelfth century, as the aristocratic male audience for such tales developed rapidly into a more democratised, and female readership, delighting more in the emotionally tangled battlefields of ‘Romance’, that female characters begin to participate much more in the intrigues of the plot, advancing and eventually directing the actions of the hero by their physical, moral and intellectual qualities.
In the Song of Roland the maiden Aude dies of a broken heart immediately on hearing of her fiancé Roland’s death. She brusquely rejects Charlemagne’s offer of his own son as a replacement, ‘Which is Prince Louis: what better can I say/ He is my son, the heir to my domains,’ (ll.3715–6) – thus demonstrating her unswerving loyalty to her betrothed, which is clearly the focus of the little episode for the earliest poet. Her self-sacrificing death complements that of her fiancé on the battlefield: ‘She is thus Roland’s equal, and her death adds enormously to his posthumous prestige’ (Hindley & Levy, p.79). However, in the song called Girart of Vienne, written approximately a century later (c.1200), but describing a baronial conflict that is set, historically, twelve months before her betrothed’s famous last stand at the battle of Roncevaux, Aude reappears as an independent, even forward young beauty who is quick to exchange witticisms with any man and to flirt openly with her new admirer, an over-ardent Roland, throughout the seven thousand line narrative. The only other ‘heroine’ in the Song of Roland, the Saracen Queen Bramimond, although bearing the unforgivable stigma (in these early epic poems) of Paganism – a narrative attribute which precludes her immediately from being viewed as a figure of admirable i.e. Christian virtue, – is still portrayed in positive terms as a loyal, supportive wife to King Marsile, and as an articulate deputy who is more than capable of representing her husband’s cause in his own absence or incapacity to do so. Her very first words to the Christian traitor Ganelon are: ‘ I love you much, because my lord and all his men do so’(ll.635–6).
The most successfully drawn and the most admirable example of this ‘helpmeet-heroine’ figure in Old French poetry is that of Lady Guibourc, the wife of Duke William of Orange (the principal character in a major sub cycle of the Old French epic songs). Guibourc is indeed ‘a vivacious female personage of high relief who, with the possible exception of Aalais in Raoul de Cambrai, surpasses all other heroines in dignity and in accuracy of human portrayal’ (Herman, p.213). In her we can best see the literary embodiment of the early medieval Christian woman, who ‘was called upon to be her husband’s helpmate in every phase of his life, in his active military pursuits as well as in his pleasures. She was strong in her desires, vigorous in her efforts to satisfy them, and quite as crude in her manner of living as her husband.’(C.M. Jones, p.220) A Christian convert, Guibourc demonstrates a resilient, indeed energetic fidelity to her new husband and her new faith throughout every trial and tribulation she encounters in the course of her many appearances in the chansons de geste. She displays not only physical courage but a moral strength and a ready wit that cheer and inspire her husband even in his most despondent moods. In the Song of William (c.1120) we find her preparing huge meals for her husband and commending his healthy appetite as an innate proof of his momentarily self-doubted vigour. Assembling an army of thirty thousand men on her own initiative, she lies brazenly to them about William’s achievements in order to enlist their support. She offers them inducements of beautiful maidens, while telling William, however, whom she has advised to seek King Louis’ help in Paris, that if he does not bring back her nephew Guischard alive, she will withhold all her own conjugal favours. William’s ensuing query provokes a response that is equally revealing of this strong helpmeet-heroine’s character:
“Sweet sister, friend, your counsel I accept;
To Louis’ hall at Laon I’ll ride unchecked
And ask him there to lend and send us help;
But if the Moors observe that I have left,
The Saracens with their united strength
Will seize this hall and all that it protects;
Who will defend its walls and all its wealth?”
“My lord,” she said, “the Lord our God Himself,
And ladies more than thirty score of them!
White hauberk hides will be our battle-dress,
While pointed helms of green adorn our head.
We all shall stand upon the battlements
And hurl down stones and sticks and spears as well!
God willing, lord, it soon will have an end,
When you arrive with Louis and the French.”
(ll. 2437–51)
In the Song of Aliscans (c.1185), a subsequent and much longer remake of the material contained in the second half of the above-quoted tale, the genre’s earlier martial bias is still heavily evident, and Guibourc’s response remains much the same to this same question asked of her by her husband. Significantly, however, I think, the later poet ends the above dialogue with an affective flourish:
On hearing this, the Count embraced his queen:
With deepest love they held each other near,
And wept alike to see each other’s grief.
( ll. 1963–5)
A significant example of the development of the chansons de geste from an oral, performance genre to a consciously written art-form can be witnessed in the form and content of the final exchange between the above couple that closes this later work. It is a dialogue worth quoting in full, being perhaps the finest example in the entire chanson de geste genre of how the female ‘helpmeet’ character of the earlier epic songs was able to develop smoothly into the romantic heroine of the later works, in the hands of a skilful poet:
The Count bewails and Guibourc says in comfort:
“Sir William, re-fill your heart with courage!
For what one day may lose the next recovers,
And poor one day may well be rich another,
As morning smiles may turn to tears at supper.
A healthy man should not bemoan his troubles;
The world began a long time ere our coming,
And Adam died, whom God made out of nothing.
Then all his seed, for greed, was made to suffer
Till in the Flood the sinful world was covered,
And nothing spared except the breed of Noah;
This was God’s will, Who built anew above it
The world that still exists, and still will flourish.
Though none of us can stop our end from coming,
While we’re alive we all should strive and struggle
To do our best, both for ourselves and others.
Serve God today, and shun tomorrow’s worries!
A worthy wife makes any husband lucky,
And he, if worthy too, will always love her,
And heed the words of her advice and trust her.
I’m such a wife, and this is my good judgement:
Rebuild Orange with all the wealth and plunder
From Aliscans, and let it be a wonder!
Call men to work, and such will be their numbers
That you can make Orange a joy to govern.
With all my heart I’ll help you, my beloved.”
“Dear God,” he sighed, “how fine you are, my lovely!
In all of time there won’t be such another!”
(ll. 8391–8418)
The moving speeches and strong actions of courageous but compassionate helpmeet-heroines like Guibourc in the Song of William, Aude and Bramimond in the Song of Roland, Aalais and Héloïse, mother and fiancée of the hero in Raoul de Cambrai, and Princess Hermenjart in Aymeri of Narbonne – all of which may be perused by the interested reader through the translations available in Heroes of the French Epic and the others books cited in the Suggestions for Further Reading – represent some of finest moments of chanson de geste composition, and ‘satisfactorily explain the survival of the warrior hero’s popularity and the subordination of woman even in poems composed long after the Breton and Provençal influences were supreme in feudal society’ (Comfort, p. 98).