is too special. "Divine vengeance" and "judgment of God," the Chroniclers cry out one after another, and this is thought sufficient to account for three so-called accidental deaths. The moral laws, however, never fall so directly as they are here represented. Their influence is more oblique. The lightning of justice does not immediately follow each peal of suffering.
Leaving, however, the Chroniclers' views to themselves, let us look further at some of the facts which peep out in the narrative. Why, in the first place, we naturally ask, if the King was shot by accident, did his friends and attendants desert him? Why was he brought home in a cart, drawn by a wretched jade, the blood, not even staunched, flowing from the wound, clotting the dust on the road? Why, too, the indecent haste of his funeral? Why, afterwards, was no inquiry as to his death made? Why, too, was Tiril's conduct not investigated? These questions are difficult to answer, except upon one supposition.
Let us note, also, that they are all ecclesiastics, to whom the revelations of the King's speedy end had been made known, and that their special favourite, Henry, succeeded to the throne in spite of his elder brother's right. It is, certainly, too, something more than singular that when the banished Anselm should visit Hugh, Abbot of Cluny, that the Abbot should tell him that during the past night he had seen William summoned before God and sentenced to damnation, and that the King's death immediately followed: that further, on the next day, when he went to Lyons, his chaplain should be twice told by a youth of the death of William before it took place.[1] More than singular,
- ↑ Eadmer: Vita Anselmi, Ed. Paris, 1721, p. 23. John of Salisbury: Vita Anselmi, cap. xi.; in Wharton's Anglia Sacra, tom. ii. p. 169. William of
