The first half of The Charles Men, ending on the climax of the battle of Poltava in 1709, is more dramatically coherent than the second. After the collapse of that desperate and ill-fated campaign the character of the king degenerated for a time into a futility that was not merely pitiable but often ridiculous. Like Napoleon, he was the worst of losers. There are, however, some wonderful chapters at the beginning of the second part, concerning the reactions of the Swedes in adversity. Then more than ever before did they show their fortitude and patient cheerfulness. This comes out in ``When the Bells Ring,'' which describes the rallying of the peasants in southern Sweden to repel an invasion by the Danes.

In ``The King's Ride,'' Charles breaks out of a long period of petulance and inertia, regains his old self, escapes from Turkey, and finally reaches his own land after an absence of eighteen years. He finds it in utter misery and desolation. All his people ask for is no more war. But he plunges into yet another, this time with Norway, and is killed in an assault on the fortress of Fredrikshall, being only thirty-six years of age when he died. He had become king at fifteen.

Then suddenly there was a tremendous revulsion of popular feeling. From being a hated tyrant and madman he was now the symbol of all that was noblest and best in the history of Sweden. This is brought out in the next to last chapter of the book, ``A Hero's Funeral,'' written in the form of an impassioned prose poem. Slowly the procession of warriors and statesmen passes through the snow beside the black water and into the brilliantly lighted cathedral, the shrine of so many precious memories. The guns are fired, the hymns are sung, and the body of Charles is carried down to the vault and laid beside the tombs of his ancestors. As he had longed to be, he became the echo of a saga.