Renaud, maddened by the needless cruelty of this act, now tore up the treaty and flung it at the emperor’s feet.  He then broke his sword Flamberge and cast it into the Seine, declaring that he would never wield such a weapon again, and returned to Montauban alone and on foot.  There he bade his wife and children farewell, after committing them to the loyal protection of Roland.  He then set out for the Holy Land, where he fought against the infidels, using a club as weapon, so as not to break his vow.  This evidently proved no less effective in his hands than the noted Flamberge, for he was offered the crown of Jerusalem in reward for his services.  As he had vowed to renounce all the pomps and vanities of the world, Renaud passed the crown on to Godfrey of Bouillon.  Then, returning home, he found that Clarissa had died, after having been persecuted for years by the unwelcome attentions of many suitors, who would fain have persuaded her that her husband was dead.

[Sidenote:  Death of Renaud.] According to one version of the story, Renaud died in a hermitage, in the odor of sanctity; but if we are to believe another, he journeyed on to Cologne, where the cathedral was being built, and labored at it night and day.  Exasperated by his constant activity, which put them all to shame, his fellow-laborers slew him and flung his body into the Rhine.  Strange to relate, however, his body was not carried away by the strong current, but lingered near the city, until it was brought to land and interred by some pious people.

Many miracles having taken place near the spot where he was buried, the emperor gave orders that his remains should be conveyed either to Aix-la-Chapelle or to Paris.  The body was therefore laid upon a cart, which moved of its own accord to Dortmund, in Westphalia, where it stopped, and where a church was erected in honor of Renaud in 811.  Here the saintly warrior’s remains were duly laid to rest, and the church in Dortmund still bears his name.  A chapel in Cologne is also dedicated to him, and is supposed to stand on the very spot where he was so treacherously slain after his long and brilliant career.

CHAPTER X.

HUON OF BORDEAUX.

It is supposed that this chanson de geste was first composed in the thirteenth century; but the version which has come down to us must have been written shortly before the discovery of printing.  Although this poem was deservedly a favorite composition during the middle ages, no manuscript copy of it now exists.  Such was the admiration that it excited that Lord Berners translated it into English under Henry VIII.  In modern times it has been the theme of Wieland’s finest poem, and of one of Weber’s operas, both of which works are known by the title of “Oberon.”  It is from this work that Shakespeare undoubtedly drew some of the principal characters for his “Midsummer-Night’s Dream,” where Oberon, king of the fairies, plays no unimportant part.