Saracens had taken Rome, and that Charlemagne with his host was
hastening to the rescue; and knights and noblemen from every city and
town and countryside came to join his standard, sometimes alone and
singly, and sometimes with a great retinue of fighting men and
servitors. When at last they had passed the boundaries of France, and
only the great mountains lay between them and Italy, Charlemagne could
look behind him, and see an army of a hundred thousand men. And now
messengers came to him again, urging him to hasten with all speed to
the succor of the pope.

But the Alps Mountains lifted themselves up in his pathway, and their
snowy crags frowned threateningly upon him; their steep, rocky sides
arose 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 and
circuitous 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 every
valley and gorge, and every seeming mountain pass. But all came back
with the same story: there was not even so much as a path up which the
mountain goats could clamber, much less a road broad enough for an
army, with horses and baggage, to traverse. The king was in despair,
and he called together his counsellors and wise men to consider what
should be done. Duke Namon urged that they should march around by way
of 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 to
Marseilles, embark from thence on ships, and undertake to reach Rome by
way of the sea.