Much of the action of the 11th century
Song of Roland happens at Rencesvals, with a battle of epic proportions
taking place between the French under Charlemagne and the pagan Saracens
of Spain. The rearguard of the French army, led by the hero Roland, is
attacked by the Saracen troops from behind. It is at this point that
Roland's olifant plays a critical role in the tale.
An olifant is a natural trumpet
constructed of an elephant's tusk, and probably came to the West from
Byzantium. It could probably make a very loud sound, and might be capable
of playing harmonics, but would be unable to play melodies as modern
trumpets can. At best, it would have a range much like bugle, its
cultural descendent. As signaling trumpets went, it was quite expensive
and likely to be used only by nobility (Reese 329). Roland's olifant is an
expensive and unusual instrument, and plays a critical role in the telling
of the tale, as well as in the outcome of battle of Rencesvals. Roland's
olifant is crucial to the tale in two instances. Attention is first
focussed upon the olifant when Roland, the hero, and his best friend
Oliver argue over whether or not to sound the olifant once they see that
battle with the Saracens is inevitable. Sounding the horn will summon the
main body of the French troops under Charlemagne. Roland refuses to sound
the horn before battle is entered. Against Oliver's advice, Count Roland
chooses to sound the olifant after the French rear-guard has been
destroyed. The results of that sounding create the second focus upon the
olifant: Roland is mortally wounded by sounding the horn. The climax of
the story, as well as the battle, depends upon the sounding of the
olifant.
Roland's olifant has a long heritage in the Christian tradition. There
are three Biblical trumpet episodes that particularly inform The Song of
Roland, and foreshadow the centrality of the olifant in that tale. In the
Book of Numbers, as the Israelites wander in the wilderness of Sinai, God
mandates that a set of silver trumpets be made. He gives further
instructions regarding their use:
Make thee two trumpets of silver; of a whole piece shalt thou make them: that thou mayest use them for the calling of the assembly, and for the journeying of the camps. And when they shall blow with them, all the assembly shall assemble themselves to thee at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation. And if they blow but with one trumpet, then the princes, which are heads of the thousands of Israel, shall gather themselves unto thee. When ye blow the alarm, then the camps that lie on the east parts shall go forward. When ye blow the alarm the second time, then the camps that lie on the south side shall take their journey: they shall blow an alarm for their journeys. But when the congregation is to be gathered together, ye shall blow, but ye shall not sound an alarm. And the sons of Aaron, the priests, shall blow with the trumpets; and they shall be to you for an ordinance forever throughout your generations. And if ye go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresseth you, then ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets; and ye shall be remembered before the Lord your God, and ye shall be saved from your enemies. Also in the day of your gladness, and in your solemn days, and in the beginnings of your months, ye shall blow with the trumpets over your burnt offerings, and over the sacrifices of your peace offerings; that they may be to you for a memorial before your God: I am the Lord your God.
(Numbers 10: 2-10)
King James Version
There are many similarities between these two silver trumpets and the
olifant. The first is that the two silver trumpets have a unique ability
to communicate. I will argue later that the olifant has a similar unique
ability. The trumpet is a logical and useful tool for coordinating the
movements of a large number of people, both in the wilderness at Sinai and
at the battlefield of Rencesvals. Another similarity between the two is
the limitation on who can sound the horns. In Numbers, the right to sound
the trumpets is strictly limited to the priestly tribe. This limitation
gives both greater authority to the priestly tribe and a spiritual
inflection to the trumpets. In the same way, Roland is great in part
because of his olifant, but to a greater degree, the olifant is great
because it is Roland's.
The most striking similarity involves
the last few verses of the Numbers chapter. The Israelites are told that
"if ye go to war in your land against the enemy that oppresseth you, then
ye shall blow an alarm with the trumpets." The first part of this
statement seems to show the Israelites how they can use the trumpets in
the case of battle. The second part of the clause indicates that by
blowing the alarm before battle, not only will the people of Israel be
alerted, but God himself will hear and prepare for battle, "and ye shall
be remembered before the Lord your God, and ye shall be saved from your
enemies." The alarm blown on the trumpet actually recalls the Israelites
to God's remembrance and to victory, through God's intercession on their
behalf. It is as though God can hear and respond to the trumpets just as
the people and princes of Israel can. Taken further, it seems as though
God needs to be informed about the condition of the Israelites, and has
equipped his people with the correct tools, the trumpets, to be able to do
just that. There is a similarity between the people of Israel sounding the
trumpets to call to God for aid and victory in battle, and Roland at
Rencesvals deciding whether to sound the olifant and summon the aid of the
Holy Roman Emperor and his armies. The olifant plays a role similar to
that of the trumpets of the Israelites.
Trumpets did not only coordinate movement. They also had an emotional
impact on the soldiers, as Boethius argued in his Fundamentals of Music:
"Is it not equally evident that the passions of those fighting in battle
are roused by the call of trumpets?" (Fundamentals 8). The olifant comes
in this tradition of trumpets, which places them on the battlefield and
assigns them not only a practical application, but also an emotional
charge.
The olifant is not only expensive and
pretty, it is also unique. That individuality comes to play an important
role in the tale. Only the olifant is able to summon Charlemagne and his
troops to join the battle, in the same way that only the silver trumpets
could summon God's attention. Other trumpets are blown throughout the
battle, without the fear that they might accidentally alert the king to
what is happening in the valley below. Indeed, the Saracen preparation
for battle involves making lots of noise: "The day was fair, the sun was
shining bright,/ all their armor was aflame with the light;/ a thousand
trumpets blow: that was to make it finer./ That made a great noise, and
the men of France heard" (Roland 80). It seems as though the sound of a
thousand trumpets might alert not only the rear-guard, but Charlemagne as
well, to the impending battle. By comparison, the sounding of one horn,
no matter how special, seems less likely to warn Charles of the impending
battle than the thousand Saracen trumpets. The narrator is clear that the
thousand trumpets made a huge sound. Nor is that one volley of trumpets
the only time in the course of the battle that horns are sounded. It
could be argued that the Saracens were too far from the battlefield for
Charlemagne to hear. But the trumpets in the thick of battle, such as the
one Margariz sounds to summon his men (Roland 90), ought to be audible to
the emperor and the main body of French troops. This discrepancy is
especially apparent since, when Roland finally does blow the olifant, he
is on the battlefield. Charles could only have moved further up the passes
during the duration of the battle, and yet he hears the olifant and not
the myriad other trumpets sounded in the course of the battle.
Of all the trumpets, and all the possible methods of communication, only
the olifant has the power to summon the king to his rearguard. The other
trumpets present, whether Christian or pagan, can only function on the
battlefield. Their scope does not reach to the mountain passes. Not only
does the olifant have the only chance of communicating with the Emperor,
only Roland has access to the olifant. Oliver, for example, can only try
to convince Roland to sound the olifant. That is why the conflict over
whether or not to sound the olifant is such a critical and divisive one.
Only Roland, as the leader and possessor of the olifant, has the ability
to inform the rest of the French army of the battle. Against the
thrice-repeated advice of his best friend, Roland refuses to do so. Even
if Oliver had a horn at his belt as well, his horn would not have the same
power to transcend location that Roland's does.
[Oliver probably did have a trumpet on
him. When
Charles commands all the trumpets of the French to sound: "Sixty thousand,
on these words, sound" (Roland 112). That means that practically every
French soldier had a trumpet, and there is no reason to believe that
Oliver was an exception.]
The conflict between Roland and Oliver about when to sound the olifant is
one of the most intriguing and difficult aspects of the tale to
understand. To a modern sensibility, Roland's choice to fight the battle
without the aid of the main body of French troops is at worst foolhardy
and at best suicidal. We value life deeply, and go to great lengths to
save it. Oliver claims that if Roland were to sound the olifant before
the Saracen hordes, the French would "come out without losses" (Roland
83). Oliver's plan seems more sensible to a modern perspective. The
Saracens' defeat would be ensured. The French would retain most of their
army to fight another day. Most importantly, Marisilion's plan to attack
the rearguard and kill Roland, and thus damage Charlemagne, would fail.
On the contrary, when Roland fails to
sound the horn before the beginning of the battle, Ganelon is proved right
in his dealings with the Saracens, and has delivered to them that which
they desired: Roland's death. With Roland's decision not to sound the
horn, Ganelon's promises to the Saracens turn out to be entirely accurate:
The King will be at Cize, in the great passes,
he will have placed his rear-guard at his back:
there'll be his nephew, Count Roland, that great man,
and Oliver, in whom he puts such faith,
and twenty thousand Franks in their company.
Now send one hundred thousand of your pagans
against the French - let them give the first battle.
The French army will be hit hard and shaken.
I must tell you: your men will be martyred.
Give them a second battle, then, like the first.
One will get him, Roland will not escape.
(Roland 68)
Since Marsilion agrees to this plan, acknowledging this outcome as the
desired one, the battle could be interpreted as a bittersweet victory for
the pagans. The possibility that the pagans got that which they desired
is problematic. The black and white distinctions between good guys and
bad, between Christians and pagans, does not allow for any redemption for
the pagans, or for any failure on the part of the Christians. Roland does
indeed die, as do Oliver, Archbishop Turpin, and the twelve peers of
France. The pagans are slaughtered by the armies of Charlemagne, but do
manage to kill the "right arm of his [Charles'] body" (Roland 68), namely
Count Roland. The only way for Roland to skew and disprove Ganelon's plan
is to blow the olifant when he is encouraged to do so by Oliver. Such a
monumental decision, between life and death, victory and loss, hinges upon
the sounding of a trumpet.
After the French have lost
the battle, Oliver and Roland switch positions on the advisability of
blowing the olifant and summoning Charlemagne. Oliver had encouraged
Roland to do so when, by summoning Charles' troops, the Franks could be
assured of an unconditional victory. Roland, on the other hand, had felt
that the sounding of the trumpet could be honorable only when there was no
chance that the ill-fated rearguard could be saved. In this last
instance, Archbishop Turpin mediates between the two: "To sound the horn
could not help us now, true,/ but still it is far better that you do it:/
let the King come, he can avenge us then-- / these men of Spain will not
go home exulting" (Roland 102).
Although Charles heard
none of the previous trumpets blown in the heat of battle, he does hear
the olifant. The unique power of the olifant is revealed, not only
because Charles heard it, but also by what the French king is able to
discern from the sound. When Charlemagne hears the voice of the olifant,
he immediately recognizes it, as though it was a human voice. Ganelon, in
his treachery, tries to convince Charles both that it is not Roland's horn
and that Roland was probably blowing it because he saw a rabbit. Despite
Ganelon's attempts at deception, both Charlemagne and Naimon are able to
recognize Roland's horn, as well as the urgency behind the sounding:
King Charles heard it, and his French listen hard.
And the King said: "That horn has a long breath!"
Naimon answers: "It is a baron's breath.
There is battle there, I know there is.
He betrayed him! and now asks you to fail him!
Put on your armor! Lord, shout your battle cry,
and save the noble barons of your house!
You hear Roland's call. He is in trouble."
(Roland 103)
Charles and Naimon are able to read significant information from the
blowing of the horn by the way it sounds. First, they are able to tell
that it is indeed Roland's olifant and no other. Even Ganelon cannot
dispute that fact for long. They are also able to discern what manner of
man is blowing the olifant - namely a baron. Finally, they are able to
tell from the sound of the horn that it is being blown in battle, not
simply for a hunt or to hear the echoes throughout the tenebrous hills.
This recognition and response reveals the truth behind what I claimed
earlier - only Roland's olifant has the power to communicate with the
French army regarding the battle taking place below. Were it some other
horn, or were Oliver to have taken the olifant from Roland and blown it,
Ganelon might have prevailed in his assertions. Only the olifant, of all
the trumpets on the battlefield, can be heard. Moreover, only the
olifant, blown by Roland himself in the heat of battle, will be listened
to. The olifant has a nearly supernatural ability to transmit
information.
This initial sounding is not the
only example of the power of the olifant to communicate specific
information. Roland and the Emperor manage a sort of dialogue with their
trumpets. Roland, weak from injuries sustained from the first blowing of
the trumpet, sounds the olifant a second time. From this second sounding,
Charlemagne is again able to understand not only who is blowing the
trumpet, but also what that sounding reveals about Roland's state:
But he [Roland] must know whether King Charles will come;
draws out the olifant, sounds it, so feebly.
The Emperor drew to a halt, listened.
"Seignuers," he said, "it goes badly for us -
My nephew Roland falls for our ranks today.
I hear it in the horn's voice: he hasn't long.
Let every man who wants to be with Roland
ride fast! Sound trumpets! Every trumpet in the host!"
Sixty thousand, on these words, sound, so high
the mountains sound, and the valleys resound.
The pagans hear: it is no joke to them:
cry to each other: "We're getting Charles on us!"
The pagans say: "The Emperor is coming, AOI
listen to their trumpets - it is the French!
If Charles comes back, it's all over for us"
(Roland 112 - 113)
First, Roland's olifant conveyed critical information to the King and the
French in the passes regarding the battle taking place below. Now, the
olifant reveals that the Count is near death. Charlemagne can "hear it"
in the sound of the olifant. Indeed, it seems as though Charles can hear
Roland's question, his need to know whether or not the Emperor is coming
or not. In response to the weak call of the olifant, Charles orders that
every trumpet in the host be sounded. This great sounding of trumpets
(which also makes the pagans' sounding of a mere thousand trumpets pale in
comparison) conveys a message comprehensible not only to Roland, but to
the Saracens as well. Of course, this sort of interpretation seems more
logical than Charles' interpretation of Roland's olifant. Obviously, if
tens of thousands of trumpets sound from the area where the enemy is known
to be, and every trumpet requires at least one person to sound, it is
quickly apparent that the large host up the hill is going to enter the
battle. The Song of Roland begins with the pagans' awareness of
their inability to fight the full force of French troops. There is no
reason to believe that the already battle-weary Saracens will fare any
better now than they would have in the beginning of the tale, despite the
loss of the twelve peers. These soundings on the part of both Roland and
Charlemagne are not bugle calls of a set type. There is no evidence to
suggest that Roland is conveying his meaning by a certain pattern of
music, or that the French are bugling Charge. The intelligibility of the
trumpets is entirely independent of any preset code, and is somehow
inherent in the sound itself. The sound of the trumpets instead is as
unique and individual as the sounders.
The idea that the olifant carries
with it a unique fingerprint or identification of the sounder is continued
even after Roland's death. When Charlemagne finds Roland and Oliver dead
on the battlefield, he takes Roland's olifant and Oliver's sword and gives
them to others of his party. By giving them these tokens, he seems to be
making the knights into a new Roland and Oliver: "King Charles summons
Rabel and Guineman./ And the King said: 'Seignuers, I command you:/ Lords,
take the places of Oliver and Roland:/ you bear the sword, and you the
olifant,/ and both of you ride at the very head" (Roland 136). The named
swords of the Song of Roland obviously have both an individual
identity and an identification with their wielder. Frequently the
soldiers address or refer to their swords by name. Indeed, there is
almost an opposition between the trumpet and the sword. During the three
stanzas in which Roland refuses Oliver's request to blow the olifant
before the battle, the olifant and Roland's sword Durendal seem to be
equal and opposite responses to the pagan threat:
"Roland, Companion, now sound the olifant,
Charles will hear it, he will bring the army back,
the King will come with all his barons to help us."
Roland replies: "May it never please God
that my kin should be shamed because of me,
or that sweet France should fall into disgrace.
Never! Never! I'll strike with Durendal,
I'll strike with this good sword strapped to my side,
you'll see this blade running its whole length with blood."
(Roland 83)
Durendal is an appropriate response to Oliver's request to blow the
olifant. Nor is this the only place where Roland equates the olifant and
his precious sword. When Roland is dying, he takes equal care of both the
olifant and his sword, and arranges them both as he prepares to die. When
he is apparently dead, he feels a pagan taking his sword and wakes up from
the death swoon. Roland's response to the attempted theft of Durendal is
to attack the pagan with the olifant. Roland "grasps that olifant that he
will never lose,/ strikes on the helm beset with gems in gold/ . Ah! the
bell-mouth of the olifant is smashed,/ the crystal and the gold fallen
away" (Roland 117). He then attempts to shatter Durendal. The damage to
the olifant is problematic since, as I mentioned earlier, the olifant is
later given to Guineman, and sounds numerous times throughout the
remainder of the poem. Perhaps the damage is only cosmetic. It is
important, however, that as Roland dies he acts towards the destruction of
both sword and horn, and fails in both attempts. Roland lies upon his
faithful Durendal and his olifant as he dies.
It is important to prove that the
olifant is as important and as unique as a warrior's sword because it
makes possible the argument that Marsilion and Ganelon's plot actually
failed. While they were able to kill the true Roland and the twelve
peers, they were not able to destroy the essence of the knights. Roland
and Oliver can be recreated in a new generation by passing on their
identities, as carried in their sword and trumpet, to a new generation.
The ability of the artifacts to transmit the essence of their owners also
explains why the pagans were eager to take Roland's sword. Had they
succeeded in doing so, perhaps they would have been able to succeed in
their goal in eliminating Roland from Charles' service. This recreation
of Roland and Oliver might also help to explain the lack of mourning for
the dead in the end of the story. The last stanzas of The Song of Roland
deal not, as we might expect, with mourning and elaborate funerals, but
rather with the judgement of the traitor Ganelon. Indeed, the only person
who really seems to notice or care that Roland is dead, after that initial
expression of grief, is his betrothed, Aude.
The success of giving the olifant
to Guineman, in effect making him a new Roland, can be seen by the
continued importance of the olifant's sound as the troops of the emperor
battle the troops of the Amiral. At first, the transfer of identity is
incomplete. The sounding of the olifant reminds the French forces of
Roland: "The trumpets sound, to the rear, to the front:/the olifant's
voice leaps beyond all the others;/ and the French weep with all they feel
for Roland" (Roland 138). Immediately prior to this passage is
Charlemagne's Commendatio Animae, a prayer for the dead, which is
said over the recumbent figure of Roland. With the grieving process yet
incomplete and in the circumstance of mourning Count Roland, it makes
sense for the olifant to remind the French of the dead knight. As the
battle with the Saracens progresses, however, the olifant's identification
with the dead Roland decreases. It still retains a role in the forefront
of the battle that it might have had with Roland, inspiring the troops to
further acts of valor, as Boethius said trumpets might. Four stanzas
after the sound of Roland's olifant brought tears to the Frankish troops,
the horn is already assuming a new identity: "Hear the olifant now: a
brave man there --/ that high-pitched horn is his companion in answering"
(Roland 141). The trumpet now identifies not Roland, but Guineman.
Already, so quickly after Roland's death, the French hear the olifant and
speak of the bravery of the living man who is now sounding it. Again and
again the olifant heartens the French army, with no indication that it
does so because it was allied with Roland, whom that army is now avenging:
"The Emperor commands them sound their horns,/ that olifant! it sets their
hearts on fire! . . . these high-pitched trumpets sound, their voices
clear,/ that olifant, thundering the pursuit!" (Roland 144). The olifant,
devoid of the commanding warrior whose breath once made it sound, still
has a significant ability to hearten and support the Christian warriors.
Rabel and Guineman, heirs to Oliver and Roland, are treated with the same
sort of language and individual significance as the two dead knights had
been. Both are given stanzas in which to charge the enemy and inspire
praising commentary by onlookers -- as Roland and Oliver did before their
deaths. Because the Emperor was able to recover the two relics of the two
knights he is able to recreate Roland and Oliver by passing on those
powerful relics. Had Roland not sounded the olifant, as Oliver argued,
Charlemagne would have been unable to recover the knights' relics and
recreate them.
The correlation between the
trumpet and sword in The Song of Roland shows the importance of the
trumpet. For Roland, Durendal -- with all its fabulous relics -- and the
olifant are equal in value. Indeed, Roland's olifant stands beside
Oliver's sword in importance, and carries on Roland's identity past the
heroes' death. The olifant is portrayed as equal to the sword in power
and importance. For a medieval bard telling a tale of an epic battle to
set a non-religious element equal to the emblem of valor on the
battlefield is a strong statement on the power that the olifant has in the
epic.
The greatest power I have so far
attributed to trumpets in The Song of Roland is to be able to
communicate complex information - no mean feat, as the outcome of major
conflicts rests upon that communication. I have discussed the
individuality of the olifant, and the critical role it plays in the
outcome of the battle at Rencesvals, and the olifant's ability to carry on
the heroic identity of its sounder. But the olifant has a much more
important role than simply as a signaling instrument or relic. I
mentioned earlier that in most details Ganelon was accurate in his
prediction of the outcome of the ambush. The Saracens indeed did become
"martyrs," as great numbers died on the field, and Roland did die as a
result. But Roland, the Emperor's nephew, dies on the battlefield along
with the twelve peers of France and 20,000 French troops. The hero's
death creates a difficulty for the Song of Roland author or teller;
if Roland is the greatest knight in Christendom, and Christians must
always prevail over Saracens because in the tale "Pagans are wrong and
Christians are right!" (Roland 80), then how does Roland die? He cannot
be killed by a pagan. If the Christian hero is killed by a Saracen
knight, no matter how outnumbered or tired he might be, then the Saracens
might be seen as greater than the Christians. That possibility is
unacceptable in the world of the poem. Indeed, when Charles comes upon
Roland's body on the battlefield he exclaims: "What man killed you?
Killing you he shamed sweet France" (Roland 134).
Sweet France is not shamed,
because no man kills Roland. Saracen warriors do not overcome him. He is
not accidentally killed by a nearly blind and dying Oliver, as might
happen and still preserve the ethic of the poem. Roland is killed, quite
literally, by blowing the olifant:
And now the mighty effort of Roland the Count:
he sounds his olifant; his pain is great,
and from his mouth the bright blood comes leaping out,
and the temple bursts in his forehead.
. . .
The blood leaping from Count Roland's mouth,
the temple broken with effort in his forehead,
he sounds his horn in great travail and pain.
(Roland 103)
The mortal wound delivered by the olifant is, in some ways, a commentary
on Roland's strength. He is so mighty that in sounding the olifant he is
capable of killing himself. Death by trumpet neatly solves the problem of
how to kill Roland without the help of the pagans. Roland was killed by
neither foe nor friend, but instead by his own power - and in many ways an
expression of his own will since he argued so vehemently with Oliver about
sounding the olifant. I think, however, that only at this moment at the
end of the battle does the olifant have the power to kill the Count. Had
it been sounded when Oliver encouraged, I do no think it would have killed
Roland.
The olifant's power must be used in the
correct manner, a manner which is in doubt as evidenced by Roland and
Oliver's long discussion over when to blow it. Had Roland blown his
olifant when it was not entirely necessary - blowing at rabbits as Ganelon
suggested - then the olifant might not have been able to convey the
critical messages it did after the battle at Rencesvals. Perhaps the
olifant dealt its sounder a lethal wound because it was sounded when it
should not have been. It is possible that the mortal injury delivered to
Roland is a sign that he should have sounded the horn before the battle
was joined. The olifant has a great deal of power, but with that power
comes danger. If Roland's use of the olifant was correct, it came with a
great price.
It is moments such as this one that the
power of the trumpet is most apparent. The trumpet can kill the mightiest
hero where swords and lances cannot. Where the trumpets of the Israelites
blown at Jericho brought God's wrath upon the city, here the olifant
summons the mighty forces of the Emperor. But in the process, the
Emperor's favorite is killed. The moral danger of the singing of
lascivious songs expressed by Chrysostom half a millennium before has
changed to become a real danger of a real death.