The Lion of Justice (39 page)

Fitz-Stephen bowed and left to make his preparation.

Then Henry thought of all he had heard of that great occasion when his father had set sail in the
Mora,
the ship which his mother had built for him and presented to him for the great enterprise. He had often studied the work on the tapestry which was now in the Bayeux Cathedral and which had been worked by his mother.

How many times had he heard the story of that great Conquest which had changed the course of his family's history and made kings of them and which was a great example never to be forgotten?

Well, his father would smile on him this day.

He went down to the shore and watched the ships being loaded. Very soon they would sail for England.

They would sail at the end of the day with the tide, and if the wind was with them they would soon see the white cliffs of home.

William was happy to be going home. He had left his bride behind in France. Poor child, she had wept at their parting. But she was so young. When he returned to her side she would be more of an age to be a wife.

He was touched that Fitz-Stephen had begged for the honour of conveying him, and the Captain told him that all the members of the crew were celebrating because they were to have the honour of taking him to England. He said at once that he would choose who should accompany him, and immediately went to Stephen.

‘I am to sail in the
White Ship,
' he told his cousin. ‘You will accompany me, will you?'

‘With pleasure,' replied Stephen. ‘She is the greatest ship in the fleet. I wonder your father does not sail in her.'

‘Fitz-Stephen asked that he might take me, and my father will sail with his soldiers. He wishes to show them that he appreciates all they have done in Normandy. So I am choosing my companions. I shall ask Richard and the Countess of Perche. That will please my father.'

Stephen nodded. Richard and the Countess Matilda of Perche belonged to the King's numerous family and it always pleased Henry to see them honoured.

William then began to enumerate the friends he had decided to take with him on the
White Ship.
They were all young men. He said, ‘We will have a very merry time and there shall be much revelry aboard.'

Because he wished the crew to know how delighted he was to sail with them, he ordered three casks of wine to be sent on board for them before they started.

Consequently there was much merrymaking on the
White Ship
all that day, and every sailor drank the Prince's health not once but many times.

The afternoon was coming to its end.

Stephen went on board. He could hear the sounds of singing from below. The ship reeked of wine.

He found William and said, ‘Many of the crew are drunk. They are in no fit state to take the ship across the sea.'

‘Nay,' cried William, ‘we have the best ship in the fleet.'

‘Of what use is a fine ship with a drunken crew?'

‘Fitz-Stephen is the best captain afloat. Are you suggesting he cannot manage his ship? His father took the Conqueror across on that all-famous occasion.'

‘I'll warrant the crew of the
Mora
were not drunk.'

William laughed aloud. ‘By all I hear of my grandfather, he himself was never in that state.'

‘Nay, and he was said to be the wisest of men.' Stephen was thoughtful. ‘I have changed my mind, William. I shall not sail on the
White Ship.
'

‘Why ever not?'

‘I like not to sail with a drunken crew.'

‘They will stop their merrymaking when we sail.'

‘They'll be too fuddled for anything, by the look of them. Nay, William, I'll not sail on the
White Ship
; and if you are wise now you will wait until tomorrow.'

‘What mean you? I have promised myself that we shall be the first to reach England.'

Stephen shrugged his shoulders. ‘I wish you a good voyage.'

‘You cannot really mean that you are leaving us!'

‘I shall join the King's ship.'

‘What has come over you?'

‘Just the notion that I will not sail this time in the
White Ship
.'

‘You're joking. I know you.'

‘Nay, I shall leave you now.'

‘You'll be back before we sail. Don't leave it too long, Stephen.'

Stephen did not answer, but he went ashore.

When he turned and looked at the vessel, he thought it looked like a ghost ship.

‘Come,' cried William. ‘I have sworn we shall be the first to reach England. Is she not the finest ship in the fleet?'

‘She is, my lord,' said the Captain. ‘But she is doing all she can.'

‘She'll be beaten, at this rate. I have promised the men . . . I have promised myself. The oars must increase their speed.'

‘Not easy, my lord.'

‘But they must.'

In ten minutes the order had been given. All the sails were out; the oarsmen were pulling with all their might.

The Captain was disturbed, for he believed this high speed was putting the ship into danger.

He tried to remonstrate, but the Prince and his young friends were delighting in the speed. They were taking wagers as to by how long they would beat the rest of the fleet.

The distracted Captain urged them to be reasonable. The
White Ship
was known to be the fleetest on the seas. She would be home first. He was sure of it.

‘Captain,' cried Richard, son of the King, ‘I have a wager with the Countess my sister on this. I cannot afford to lose. For my pocket and the honour of the ship, do not slow her down.'

‘My lords, my lords,' cried the distraught Captain. ‘We are not yet free of the rocks. I beg of you do not ask me to act against my judgment.'

But it was already too late, for the
White Ship
had struck one of the sharpest of the rocks.

‘The Catte raze!' cried the Captain. ‘By God, my ship will founder.'

He called, ‘To the boats.' His one thought was to save the life of the heir to the throne.

The ship was filling rapidly with water; she would sink at any moment. There was no hope of saving everyone on board. But the Prince must be saved.

With great relief, the Captain saw one of his boats lowered and the Prince with some of his companions climb into it.

‘Get away fast!' shouted Fitz-Stephen. ‘Back to Barfleur. You can do it.'

They were away.

William looked back in dismay at the sinking ship.

The men were pulling at the oars trying to get clear of the vessel, knowing if they could do so in time there was a chance of saving their lives.

William could hear the sound of crying.

‘It is terrible,' he said to his brother Richard. ‘We are safe, but those souls are in danger.'

‘Look,' said Richard, ‘there is our sister.'

It was true. The Countess of Perche was clinging to the rail, on a deck which would be swamped at any moment.

‘Brothers! William . . . Richard . . .' Her arms were stretched out appealingly.

‘We dare not go back, my lords,' said one of the boatmen. ‘We'll be caught up and dragged down if we attempt it.'

‘But we cannot leave my sister!' cried William.

‘'Tis death to attempt to go back, sir. We ourselves are in danger even now. We must get away from the ship without a second's delay if we are to save our lives.'

‘Nay,' replied William. ‘We cannot leave her. We must do our best to save her.'

‘'Tis death, sir. 'Tis death, I tell you.'

‘Turn back,' commanded William. ‘We shall not leave my sister.'

The Countess saw that they were rowing towards her.

‘God bless you, William . . .' she called.

‘We are coming,' shouted William. ‘Soon now, sister . . .'

But he never reached her, for at that moment the ship went down taking the Countess with it; and the small boat carrying the heir to the throne was swallowed up in the wake of the
White Ship.

Captain Fitz-Stephen was clinging to a broken spar. There was nothing but sound and fury all about him. He had lost his ship but he believed he had saved the heir to the throne.
The boat carrying him and his friends could reach the coast of France, for they were not far out. At least he had done his duty.

How foolish to have allowed the Prince to make his sailors drunk! How wrong to have followed the boyish wish to exceed a safe limit! Oh God, he prayed, if I could but live the last hours of my life again. But his consolation was that he had saved the Prince.

Clinging to the top of the mast, which was just visible above the water, was a man.

The Captain called to him.

‘Hi, man, who are you?'

‘I am Berthould, Captain, the butcher.'

‘Are you the only one there?'

‘Yes, Captain, I climbed here right at the start. So far I am safe.'

‘The Prince got away. Did you see him go?'

‘Ay, sir. But he came back for the Countess of Perche and the boat went down with the ship.'

The Captain cried, ‘It cannot be. I saw him leave. He would have got away.'

‘I saw him, Captain. Went down with the ship! The Countess, too, and the Princes. Everyone, sir. You and I, Captain, are the only ones left.'

The Captain's hands were limp on the spar. They felt cold and dead.

How could he face the King? How could he tell him ‘I have lost the
White Ship
and the White Hope of England'?

The waters swirled about him; he was exhausted.

He let the spar slip away from him and he sank down into the water.

Henry was amused. He and his soldiers had reached England before the
White Ship.

‘Stephen,' he said, ‘what ails you? Why are you so nervous?'

Stephen said he did not know that he was.

‘You are back in England now, my lad. The fighting is behind us for a while. I think never have events in Normandy augured so well for peace. We must be eternally on the watch
of course, but the signs are good. The
White Ship
is not sighted yet. I will ask Fitz-Stephen what he means by bringing in the fastest ship of all the last.'

Stephen did not answer. He could not get out of his mind his last glimpse of the
White Ship.

THEY HAD BROUGHT
the news.

The butcher had been picked up and taken back to Normandy. He had seen what had happened.

The
White Ship
lost with all on her – except butcher Berthould who had climbed the mast and seen the ship go down.

They brought the news to Stephen for he was now considered to be the nearest to the King.

‘How can I tell him that his son is lost?' asked Stephen.

‘Someone must, my lord.'

‘Ay,' said Stephen, ‘someone must.'

There came a time when the King could not be kept in the dark any longer.

Stephen went to him.

‘Uncle, there is bad news.'

The King turned his head slowly and looked full at his nephew. ‘It is William . . .' he began.

Stephen nodded. ‘The
White Ship
foundered not far out of Barfleur. She sank and all went with her save one butcher who lived to tell the sorry tale.'

The King said nothing; his lips moved but no sound came.

Then slowly he got to his feet. He would have fallen had not Stephen caught him.

The news had been such a shock to him that he had fainted.

The King shut himself in his chamber. He wanted to see
no one. Only Stephen ventured near him, and for a few days he did not speak even to him.

Then there came the day when Stephen went to him and he said, ‘Sit down, nephew.'

‘My lord,' said Stephen with a smile of compassion which seemed beautiful in the King's eyes.

‘My boy,' said Henry, ‘I wish you were my son, then the tragedy would seem less severe.'

It seemed to Stephen then that he felt the crown upon his head. The dreams that seemed so wild were wild no longer. Was it possible? There is no male heir: those words kept hammering in his brain. There is Matilda, but she is the Empress of Germany. If I could have married Matilda, there would be no doubt.

‘I would I were,' he answered the King vehemently.

‘You are a comfort to me, Stephen, in my bereavement.'

‘My uncle, there is nothing I would not do to bring you comfort.'

‘I know it well. I rejoice in you. You shall not suffer for your devotion to me. You see a man bowed down with sorrow.'

‘But a great King, sir.'

‘I have done what I thought best for my people.'

‘And will for many years to come, please God.'

‘There is life in me yet, Stephen.'

‘It is clear to all who behold you, sir.'

‘I have suffered much tragedy of late. I lost my wife, my good Matilda, and I was hoping for more sons from her until the last. And then my son and heir, the future King. It seems God would punish me for all my sins. I lost two other children on that ship, Stephen – my daughter the Countess Matilda, my son Richard. Three children with their lives before them went down with that accursed
White Ship.
You see a man bowed down with misery.'

Stephen said, ‘I see a great King, sir, who will rise above his adversity.'

Stephen had always had a golden tongue. The King smiled at him affectionately. ‘You are a comfort to me, nephew. I've told your mother that I shall do well by you.'

‘Thank you, sir. You have been so good to me. I would
ask nothing more but to serve you to the end of my days.'

‘Talk to me Stephen. Tell me what the butcher told you. Tell me of William's last hours. The butcher saw him go back for his sister. He was a saint, Stephen.'

Stephen thought: And so do we all become in death. But he said: ‘A saint, sir.'

‘I sometimes thought that he would have had too gentle a nature to be a king. For we have to be harsh, often, Stephen, to do what is best.'