Besides all these troubles,William the Conqueror was troubled by quarrels among his sons.He had three living.ROBERT,called CURTHOSE,because of his short legs;WILLIAM,called RUFUS or the Red,from the colour of his hair;and HENRY,fond of learning,and called,in the Norman language,BEAUCLERC,or Fine-Scholar.When Robert grew up,he asked of his father the government of Normandy,which he had nominally possessed,as a child,under his mother,MATILDA.The King refusing to grant it,Robert became jealous and discontented;and happening one day,while in this temper,to be ridiculed by his brothers,who threw water on him from a balcony as he was walking before the door,he drew his sword,rushed up-stairs,and was only prevented by the King himself from putting them to death.That same night,he hotly departed with some followers from his father's court,and endeavoured to take the Castle of Rouen by surprise.Failing in this,he shut himself up in another Castle in Normandy,which the King besieged,and where Robert one day unhorsed and nearly killed him without knowing who he was.His submission when he discovered his father,and the intercession of the queen and others,reconciled them;but not soundly;for Robert soon strayed abroad,and went from court to court with his complaints.He was a gay,careless,thoughtless fellow,spending all he got on musicians and dancers;but his mother loved him,and often,against the King's command,supplied him with money through a messenger named SAMSON.At length the incensed King swore he would tear out Samson's eyes;and Samson,thinking that his only hope of safety was in becoming a monk,became one,went on such errands no more,and kept his eyes in his head.
All this time,from the turbulent day of his strange coronation,the Conqueror had been struggling,you see,at any cost of cruelty and bloodshed,to maintain what he had seized.All his reign,he struggled still,with the same object ever before him.He was a stern,bold man,and he succeeded in it.
He loved money,and was particular in his eating,but he had only leisure to indulge one other passion,and that was his love of hunting.He carried it to such a height that he ordered whole villages and towns to be swept away to make forests for the deer.
Not satisfied with sixty-eight Royal Forests,he laid waste an immense district,to form another in Hampshire,called the New Forest.The many thousands of miserable peasants who saw their little houses pulled down,and themselves and children turned into the open country without a shelter,detested him for his merciless addition to their many sufferings;and when,in the twenty-first year of his reign (which proved to be the last),he went over to Rouen,England was as full of hatred against him,as if every leaf on every tree in all his Royal Forests had been a curse upon his head.In the New Forest,his son Richard (for he had four sons)had been gored to death by a Stag;and the people said that this so cruelly-made Forest would yet be fatal to others of the Conqueror's race.
He was engaged in a dispute with the King of France about some territory.While he stayed at Rouen,negotiating with that King,he kept his bed and took medicines:being advised by his physicians to do so,on account of having grown to an unwieldy size.Word being brought to him that the King of France made light of this,and joked about it,he swore in a great rage that he should rue his jests.He assembled his army,marched into the disputed territory,burnt-his old way!-the vines,the crops,and fruit,and set the town of Mantes on fire.But,in an evil hour;for,as he rode over the hot ruins,his horse,setting his hoofs upon some burning embers,started,threw him forward against the pommel of the saddle,and gave him a mortal hurt.For six weeks he lay dying in a monastery near Rouen,and then made his will,giving England to William,Normandy to Robert,and five thousand pounds to Henry.And now,his violent deeds lay heavy on his mind.He ordered money to be given to many English churches and monasteries,and-which was much better repentance-released his prisoners of state,some of whom had been confined in his dungeons twenty years.
It was a September morning,and the sun was rising,when the King was awakened from slumber by the sound of a church bell.'What bell is that?'he faintly asked.They told him it was the bell of the chapel of Saint Mary.'I commend my soul,'said he,'to Mary!'and died.
Think of his name,The Conqueror,and then consider how he lay in death!The moment he was dead,his physicians,priests,and nobles,not knowing what contest for the throne might now take place,or what might happen in it,hastened away,each man for himself and his own property;the mercenary servants of the court began to rob and plunder;the body of the King,in the indecent strife,was rolled from the bed,and lay alone,for hours,upon the ground.O Conqueror,of whom so many great names are proud now,of whom so many great names thought nothing then,it were better to have conquered one true heart,than England!
By-and-by,the priests came creeping in with prayers and candles;
and a good knight,named HERLUIN,undertook (which no one else would do)to convey the body to Caen,in Normandy,in order that it might be buried in St.Stephen's church there,which the Conqueror had founded.But fire,of which he had made such bad use in his life,seemed to follow him of itself in death.A great conflagration broke out in the town when the body was placed in the church;and those present running out to extinguish the flames,it was once again left alone.
It was not even buried in peace.It was about to be let down,in its Royal robes,into a tomb near the high altar,in presence of a great concourse of people,when a loud voice in the crowd cried out,'This ground is mine!Upon it,stood my father's house.This King despoiled me of both ground and house to build this church.
In the great name of GOD,I here forbid his body to be covered with the earth that is my right!'The priests and bishops present,knowing the speaker's right,and knowing that the King had often denied him justice,paid him down sixty shillings for the grave.
Even then,the corpse was not at rest.The tomb was too small,and they tried to force it in.It broke,a dreadful smell arose,the people hurried out into the air,and,for the third time,it was left alone.
Where were the Conqueror's three sons,that they were not at their father's burial?Robert was lounging among minstrels,dancers,and gamesters,in France or Germany.Henry was carrying his five thousand pounds safely away in a convenient chest he had got made.
William the Red was hurrying to England,to lay hands upon the Royal treasure and the crown.
