An Island Story by H. E. Marshall (ebook pc reader .TXT) đź“–
- Author: H. E. Marshall
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One fearful wail of agony rose from the hearts of three hundred people, breaking the stillness of the night. Far away over the sea Henry heard that cry. “What is it?” he asked, straining anxious eyes through the darkness.
“Only some night bird, sire,” replied the captain.
“Methought it was some soul in distress,” said Henry, still looking back over the sea, anxious he knew not why.
On the White Ship all was terrible confusion. Without losing a moment FitzStephen thrust the prince into the only small boat, and bade the sailors row off. He at least must be saved, though all the rest should perish.
The prince, hardly knowing what had happened allowed the sailors to row away from the sinking vessel. But suddenly a voice called to him, “Ah, William, William, do you leave me to perish?”
It was the voice of his sister Marie.
William was careless and selfish, but he loved his sister. He could not leave her. “Go back,” he said to the sailors, “go back, we must take my sister too.”
“We dare not, sire,” replied the boatmen. “We dare not, we must go on.”
“You dare not,” cried the prince, “am I not the son of the King of England? Obey me.”
The prince spoke so sternly that the men turned the boat and went back to the sinking ship.
As the boat drew near, the Princess Marie, with a cry of joy, leaped into her brother’s arms. But, alas! Many others, eager to be saved, crowded into the little boat. The sailors tried in vain to keep them back, the little boat was overturned and the prince was drowned.
The White Ship sank fast, until only the mast was seen above the water. Clinging to it were two men—all that were left of that gay company. One of these men was a noble called Geoffrey de l’Aigle. The other was a poor butcher of Rouen, called Berthold.
As they clung there, a third man appeared swimming through the waves. It was the captain, FitzStephen.
“What of the prince?” he asked.
“The prince is drowned,” replied Geoffrey.
“Ah, woe is me!” cried FitzStephen, and throwing up his arms, he sank.
Hour after hour the two men clung to the mast. They were numbed with cold and perishing from hunger. Again and again, as long as they had strength, they called aloud for help. But there was no one to hear. The bright stars twinkled overhead and the moon shone calmly, making paths of shining silver over the still water. But no voice answered their cries.
All through the terrible long night the noble and the butcher talked and tried to comfort each other. But towards morning the noble became exhausted. “Good-by, friend,” he whispered to Berthold, “God keep you. I can hold out no longer.” Then he slipped into the water, and Berthold was left alone.
When the wintry sun rose, Berthold, faint and benumbed, was still clinging to the mast. He was the poorest of all those who had sailed in the beautiful White Ship. While the others had been dressed in silk and satin and velvet, his coat was of sheepskin, and perhaps that helped to save him for the rough skin kept out the cold and wet far better than a coat of satin could have done.
It was beginning to grow light when three fishermen, passing in their boat, caught sight of something floating in the water. They rowed near to see what it was and found the poor butcher almost dead from cold and hunger.
The fishermen lifted him into their boat and took him home. When they had warmed and fed him, and he could speak again, he told his dreadful story.
Alas, what news to carry to England! There was mourning and tears among the nobles when they heard it, for almost every one among them had lost a son or a brother.
But who should tell the King? No one dared. The nobles knew that Henry loved his son above everything on earth, so for three days, in spite of his anxious questions,
no one dared to tell him the truth. When alone they wept for their dear ones, but in presence of the King they put away their tears and tried to smile and jest as usual.
THE LITTLE BOY KNELT BEFORE THE KING AND STAMMERED OUT THE STORY.
At last one of the nobles, taking his little son by the hand, and whispering to him, “Go, tell the King,” gently pushed the child into the room where Henry was sitting.
The little boy felt frightened and shy at finding himself alone with the stern King, although he hardly understood how terrible a tale he had to tell. Half sobbing with excitement and fear, he knelt before Henry and stammered out the story.
As Henry listened, his hands clutched his robe, his lips moved, but no sound came. Then suddenly he fell senseless to the floor, and the little boy, now quite frightened, burst into loud sobbing.
At the sound of the fall the nobles rushed into the room. They lifted the King and placed him upon a couch. He lay there with a white face and closed eyes. When he opened his eyes again there was a look in them that no one had seen before; his face was lined and drawn with sorrow, and no one ever saw him smile again.
Henry had no other son, but he had a daughter who was called Matilda, as her mother had been. He resolved that this daughter should be queen after he was dead.
In those days it was thought strange for a country to be ruled by a woman, and the haughty Norman nobles hated the thought of it. But Henry was so strong and stern that he forced them to promise that Matilda should be queen. How they kept that promise you shall hear.
After Prince William’s death, Henry spent a great deal of his time in Normandy. He was there when he died. It is said that his death was caused by eating too many lampreys. Lampreys are fish something like eels.
Henry was very fierce and stern, but he was wise, and in those days it was necessary for a king to be stern in order to keep the strong barons in check. He loved justice so much that he was called the Lion of Justice. He took the side of the English people against the Norman barons, and the English repaid him by being true to him. We read of Henry that, “Good he was and mickle awe was of him. No man durst misdo with other in his day. Peace he made for man and deer.”
Peace he made and peace he loved, so that he was called the “peace-loving king.”
Kneeling beside King Henry, as he lay dying, the Archbishop of Rouen prayed, “God give him the peace he loved.”
HENRY I. died in 1135 A.D., and the barons, instead of keeping their promise to him and making his daughter queen, chose his nephew Stephen to be their king. Stephen was the son of Adela, William the Conqueror’s daughter.
The barons chose Stephen for several reasons. They were so proud that they hated the thought of being ruled by a woman, and that woman, too, not even a Norman. For you remember Matilda’s mother was a great-granddaughter of Edmund Ironside, and as she had been born in England and lived a great part of her life there she was far more English than Norman.
Matilda’s husband was Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. He was also called Geoffrey Plantagenet, because when he went into battle he used to wear a sprig of yellow broom in his helmet, so that his friends might know him when his face was covered with his visor. The Latin name for broom is planta genista, and gradually it came to be pronounced Plantagenet.
Although Geoffrey was French he was not a Norman, and the Normans looked upon him as quite as much a stranger as an Englishman, and they did not wish to be ruled by him, as would happen if his wife Matilda were made queen. Besides this, the barons knew that Stephen was kind and gentle, and they thought he would be a king who would allow them to do just what they liked.
And so he did. Stephen was too gentle to rule the wild barons. Some one stern and harsh was needed to keep them in check, and Stephen was neither. He allowed the barons to build strong castles all over the country. These castles had dark and fearful dungeons, which were used as prisons. There such deeds of cruelty were done by the barons that the people said the castles were filled not with men, but with evil spirits. “God has forgotten England,” they said. “Christ sleeps and His holy ones.”
Not even at the time of the conquest had there been such misery in England. Then there had been one stern ruler who had forced every one to bend to his will. Now each baron set himself up as a king and tyrant. His castle was his kingdom, where he tortured and killed according to his own wicked will. Stephen was a courteous knight and gentleman, but during the nineteen years of his reign there was only lawlessness and sorrow in England.
When the barons made Stephen King of England, Matilda and her husband Geoffrey fled to Normandy. But there, too, the barons rebelled against them and chose Stephen for their duke.
Then David, the King of Scotland, gathered an army and came to fight for his niece Matilda.
Ever since the days of the Romans, the Scots and English had been enemies, and the Scots were still almost as wild and fierce as they had been then. They marched through England as far as Yorkshire, doing dreadful deeds of cruelty as they went.
At a place called Northallerton a great battle was fought. It was called the Battle of the Standard because the sacred banners of four saints were hung upon a pole, which was fixed to a cart, and round this the English gathered their forces.
The Scots were fiercely brave, but they wore no armor, and, although they rushed to battle with splendid courage, they could not break through the line of steel-clad Normans, nor stand against the arrows of the English. So they were defeated, and David could not help Matilda as he had meant to do.
Later on Matilda came back from France, and, until the death of Stephen, England was filled with civil war. Civil war means war within a country itself—the people of that country, instead of fighting against a foreign nation, fighting among themselves. This is the most terrible kind of war, for often friends and brothers fight on different sides, killing and wounding each other. In this civil war those who wished Matilda to be queen fought against those who wished Stephen to remain king.
For a time Matilda’s army was successful, but she was so proud and haughty that she soon made enemies even of those who had at first fought for her. Then came a time when she was shut up in Oxford, while the army of Stephen lay around. The King’s soldiers kept so strict a watch that no food could be taken into the town, and no person could escape from it. This is called a siege. The people in Oxford began to starve, for they had eaten up all the food they had, and Stephen’s soldiers took good care that no more was allowed to be taken into the town. It was the middle of winter. The river Thames was frozen over. Snow
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