[117]William of Malmesbury says nothing about the tree, from which nearly all modern historians represent the arrow as glancing. Vitalis, as before, p. 751, expressly states that it rebounded from the back of a beast of chase (fera), apparently, by the mention of bristles (setæ), a wild-boar. Matthew Paris (Ed. Wats., tom. i. p. 54) first mentions the tree, but his narrative is doubtful.

[118]Malmesbury, as before, p. 509. The additions that it was a charcoal-cart, as also the owner’s name, are merely traditional.

[119]The Chronicle. Ed. Thorpe, vol. i. p. 364.

[120]Vitalis, as before, p. 752. Neither William of Malmesbury nor Vitalis, who go into details, mentions the spot where the King was killed. The Chronicle and Florence of Worcester most briefly relate the accident, though Florence adds that William fell where his father had destroyed a chapel. (Ed. Thorpe, vol. ii. p. 45). Henry of Huntingdon (Historiarum, lib. vii., in Saville’s Scriptores Rerum Anglicarum, p. 378) says but little more, dwelling only on the King’s wickedness and the supernatural appearance of blood. Matthew Paris brings a bishop on the scene, as explaining another dream of the King’s, and gives the King’s speech of “trahe arcum, diabole” to Tiril, which has a certain mad humour about it, as also the incident of the tree, and the apparition of a goat (Hist. Major. Angl. Ed. Wats., pp. 53, 54), which are not to be found in Roger of Wendover (Flores Hist. Ed. Coxe, tom. ii., pp. 157-59), and therefore open to the strongest suspicion. Matthew of Westminster (Flores Hist. Ed. 1601, p. 235) follows, in most of his details, William of Malmesbury. Simon of Durham (De Gestis Regum Anglorum, in Twysden’s Historian Anglicanæ Scriptores Decem, p. 225), as, too, Walter de Hemingburgh (Ed. Hamilton, vol. i. p. 33), and Roger Hoveden (Annalium Pars Prior, in Saville’s Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores, pp. 467, 468), copy Florence of Worcester. So, too, in various ways, with all the later writers, who had access to no new sources of information. Peter Blois, however, in his continuation of Ingulph (Gales’s Rerum Anglicarum Scriptores, tom. i. pp. 110, 111; Oxford, 1684) is more vivid, and adds that the dogs were chasing the stags up a hill; but his whole book is very doubtful, and his account in this particular instance is irreconcilable with the others. Gaimar (L’Estorie des Engles. Ed. Wright. Caxton Society, pp. 217-224), who says that the King was hunting near Brockenhurst (Brokehest), gives a still more detailed account, but we are met by the same difficulties. Of later writers, Leland, in his Itinerary (vol. vi. f. 100, p. 88) states that the King fell at Thorougham, where in his time there was still a chapel standing, evidently meaning Fritham, called Truham in Domesday. Gilpin (Forest Scenery, vol. i. p. 166) mentions a similar tradition; so that there is a very reasonable doubt as to the spot itself being where the Stone stands, especially since, with the exception of the vague remark of Florence, none of the best Chroniclers say one word about the place. Thierry, in many minor particulars, follows Knyghton, whose authority is of little value, and I have therefore omitted all reference to him.

[121]Very much against my inclination, I give a sketch of the iron case of the Stone, which the artist has certainly succeeded in making as beautiful as it is possible to do. The public would not, I know, think the book complete without it. It stands, however, rather as a monument of the habit of that English public, who imagine that their eyes are at their fingers’ ends, and of a taste which is on a par with that of the designer of the post-office pillar-boxes, than of the Red King’s death, for the spot where he fell is, as we have seen from the previous note, by no means certain. We must, too, remember that there is no mention made by the Chroniclers of Castle Malwood, but the context in Vitalis, as also the late hour mentioned by Malmesbury when William went out to hunt, show that he was at the time staying somewhere in the Forest.

[122]See, as before, Lappenberg’s History of England under the Norman Kings, pp. 266-8; and Sharon Turner’s History of England during the Middle Ages, vol. iv. pp. 166-8.

[123]“Tabidi aëris nebulâ” are the words of William of Malmesbury. (Gesta Regum Anglorum. Ed. Hardy, tom. ii., lib. iii., sect. 275, pp. 454, 455.)

[124]Gul. Gemeticensis de Ducibus Normannorum, lib. vii., cap. ix. To be found in Camden’s Anglica Scripta, p. 674.

[125]This seems to be the meaning of a not very clear passage in William of Malmesbury. Same edition as before, p. 455. Vitalis, however, Historia Ecclesiastica, pars 3, lib. x., cap. xi. (in Migne, Patrologiæ Cursus Completus, tom. clxxxviii. pp. 748, 749), says he was shot by a knight, who expiated the deed by retiring to a monastery, and speaks in high terms both of him and his brother William, who fell in one of the Crusades.

[126]Ed. Thorpe, vol. ii. p. 45. Lewis, in his Topographical Remarks on the New Forest, pp. 57-62, is hopelessly wrong with regard to Richard, the son of Robert, a grandson of the Conqueror, whom he calls Henry, and confounds at p. 62 with his uncle; and makes both William of Malmesbury and Baker (see his Chronicle, p. 37, Ed. 1730) say quite the reverse of what they write.