_HOW THE WHITE SHIP SAILED._
Henry I., king of England, had made peace with France. Then to Normandy
went the king with a great retinue, that he might have Prince William,
his only and dearly-loved son, acknowledged as his successor by the
Norman nobles and married to the daughter of the Count of Anjou. Both
these things were done; regal was the display, great the rejoicing, and
on the 25th of November, 1120, the king and his followers, with the
prince and his fair young bride, prepared to embark at Barfleur on their
triumphant journey home.
So far all had gone well. Now disaster lowered. Fate had prepared a
tragedy that was to load the king's soul with life-long grief and yield
to English history one of its most pathetic tales.
Of the vessels of the fleet, one of the best was a fifty-oared galley
called "The White Ship," commanded by a certain Thomas Fitzstephen,
whose father had sailed the ship on which William the Conqueror first
came to England's shores. This service Fitzstephen represented to the
king, and begged that he might be equally honored.
"My liege," he said, "my father steered the ship with the golden boy
upon the prow in which your father sailed to conquer England, I beseech
you to grant me the same honor, that of carrying you in the White Ship
to England.
Pages:
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98