r, it was interrupted by an alarm of fire-some of the
wooden houses blazing fiercely just when the bier was passing. The flames
grew so quickly that in some danger the mournful procession was dispersed
and the coffin was only attended by a few monks when the gates of the
Abbaye aux Hommes were reached. Eventually the burial ceremonies were in
progress beside the open grave within the church, but another interruption
ensued. Scarcely had the Bishop of Evreux concluded his address when
everybody was startled at hearing the loud voice of Ascelin resounding
through the church. He was a well-known man, a burgher, and a possessor of
considerable wealth, and it was therefore with considerable anxiety that
the clergy heard his claim upon the ground in which they were about to bury
William. It was the actual site of a house that had belonged to Ascelin's
father, for the dead king had shown no consideration to private claims when
he was building the great abbey to appease the wrath of the church. The
disturbance having been settled by the payment for the grave of a sum which
Ascelin was induced to accept, the proceedings were resumed. But then came
the worst scene of all, for it has been recorded that the coffin containing
the ponderous body of the king had not been made with sufficient strength,
and as it was being lowered into the grave, the boards gave way, and so
gruesome was the result that the church was soon emptied. It thus came
about that once more in the last phase of all William was deserted except
by a few monks.

The monument which was raised over the Conqueror's grave, was, however, of
a most gorgeous character. It was literally encrusted with precious gems,
and it is known that enormous quantities of gold from the accumulated
stores of wealth which William had made were used by Otto the goldsmith
(sometimes known as Aurifaber) who was entrusted with the production of
this most princely tomb. Such a striking object as this could scarcely pass
through many centuries in safety, and we find that in the Huguenot wars of
the seventeenth century it was largely destroyed and the stone coffin was
broken open, the bones being scattered. We only know what became of a
thigh-bone which was somehow rescued by a monk belonging to the abbey. He
kept it for some time, and in 1642 it was replaced in a new, but much less
gorgeous tomb. About one hundred years later, it was moved to another part
of the church, but in the Revolution this