the latter, in reply, informed him that he might avenge himself upon the children of Eustace, who were Henry's own grandchildren. The infuriated Harenc immediately acted upon the suggestion, and neither the youth nor innocence of the children saved them from a barbarous mutilation. Their eyes were torn out and their noses cut off. Juliana, their mother, driven to madness by this act of cruelty, watched an opportunity, and discharged an arrow at the breast of her father. Her aim, however, was unsteady; the shaft took no effect, and Henry caused his daughter to be subjected to a humiliating punishment.
The battle of Brenneville was followed by a treaty ofpeace, which was arranged, by the intervention of the Pope Calixtus, between Louis and Henry. By this treaty, the interests of William Fitz-Robert were entirely set aside, and the whole of the duchy of Normandy was to remain the hands of Henry, whose son William was to render homage to Louis for the possession of the duchy. By this means the King of England evaded declaring himself a vassal of the King of France—an act which, as Duke of Normandy, he was called upon to perform.
Henry carried his son William into Normandy, where he received his first arms, and was acknowledged as King Henry's successor by the barons. He also obtained the hand of the daughter of Fulk of Anjou. The bride was a child of twelve years old, and the prince had but just passed his eighteenth year. These various matters being accomplished, and peace established on a tolerably secure footing, King Henry prepared to return to England, (A.D. 1120.)
The fleet was assembled at Barfleur, and at the moment when the king was about to embark, a man named Thomas Fitz-Stephen advanced to speak with him, and, offering a mark of gold, said, "Stephen, the son of Erard, my father, served all his life thy father by sea, and he steered the vessel which carried the duke to the conquest of England. My lord the king, I pray thee to appoint me to the same office. I have a ship called La Blanche-Nef[1] which is well rigged and fully manned." The king answered that, as regarded himself, the choice of a ship was already made, but that he would entrust the petitioner with the care of his two sons and his daughter, with the nobles and attendants of their train. The vessel in which Henry embarked then set sail with a fair wind, and reached the English coast in safety on the following morning. On board the Blanche-Nef were the prince, his half-brother, Richard, and their sister, the Lady Marie, or Adela, Countess of Perche, with other nobles of England and Normandy, to the number of 140 persons, besides fifty sailors. Before sitting sail, three casks of wine were distributed among the crew by the prince's order; and several hours were spent carousing, during which many of the crew drank themselves "out of their wits." After nightfall, and when the moon had risen brightly, the vessel left her moorings, and proceeded with a soft and favourable breeze along the coast. Fifty skillful rowers propelled her on her way, and the helm was held by Fitz-Stephen. The sailors, excited by wine, pulled stoutly, so as to overtake the vessel of the king, when suddenly they found themselves entangled among some rocks off Barfleur, then called the Ras de Catte, and now known as the Ras de Catteville. The Blanche-Nef struck on one of the rocks, and immediately began to fill. The cry of terror which broke from the startled revellers passed through the calm night air, and reached the king's ship at a distance of several miles. Those who heard it, however, little suspected its meaning, and passed on their way unconscious of the catastrophe which had taken place so near to them.
As the ship struck, the stout-hearted captain hastily lowered a boat, and placing the prince with a few of hi. friends therein, entreated him to make for the shore without delay. The devotion of Fitz-Stephen was, however, without avail. William heard the screams of his sister Marie, who had been left on board the vessel, and he commanded the boat to be put back to save her. When the order was obeyed, the terrified passengers threw themselves into the boat in such numbers, that the frail bark was immediately upset, and all who were in it perished. In a few moments more the ship was also engulfed beneath the waters. The only trace which remained of the wreck was the main-yard, to which two men clung with the tenacity of despair; one of these was a butcher of Rouen, named Berauld, and the other a young man of higher birth, named Godfrey, the son of Gilbert de l'Aigle.
Fitz-Stephen, the captain, after falling into the water, rose to the surface, and swam towards the two men who were clinging to the spar. "The king's son!" he cried, "what has become of him?" "We have seen nothing of him," was the reply; "neither he nor any of his companions have appeared above water." "Woe is me!" the captain exclaimed, and immediately sank to rise no more. It was in the month of December, and the coldness of the water fast numbed the limbs of the younger, of the two survivors, who at length let go his hold, and committing his companion to the mercy of Heaven, disappeared beneath the waves.
King Henry bewailing the Loss of his Children.
From an Illumination engraved in "Strutt's Ecclesiastical Antiquities."
Berauld, the butcher, the poorest of all those who had set sail in the Blanche-Nef , was the only one who survived to tell the story of the shipwreck. Wrapped in his sheepskin coat, he supported himself until daybreak, when he was seen by some fishermen, who rescued him from his perilous situation. This occurred Nov. 26, A.D.1120.
The news reached England on the following day, but no man dared to tell the king of his bereavement. At length
- ↑ The White Ship.
