who had belonged to the chamber of Matilda, the good queen-consort to Henry I.1

History only particularises two surviving children of Matilda of Scotland and Henry I.; but Gervase, the monk of Canterbury, says she had two sons, William and Richard, and the Empress Matilda. Hector Boethius mentions a daughter of hers, named Euphemia. The Saxon Chronicle and Robert of Gloucester both speak of her second son Richard. Piers of Langtoft says, "the two princes, her sons, were both in Normandy when Matilda died;" and Hardinge says, she had two sons, William and Richard.

Prince William never returned to England after the death of his royal mother. During the remainder of the year 1118, he was fighting by his father's side against the invading force of the King of France, and the partisans of his cousin William Clito. On one occasion, when the noble war-horse and its rich caparisons, belonging to that gallant but unfortunate prince, having been abandoned during a hasty retreat, were captured, and Henry presented this prize to his darling heir, the noble youth generously sent them back, with a courteous message to his rival kinsman and namesake.

His royal father, King Henry, did not disdain to imitate the magnanimous conduct of his youthful son, after

The original deed, preserved in the Cottonian MSS., Claudius A., says of these maids of honour-"Tres virgines Deo sacratas domicellas, videlicit, camere. Matildis bone regine Consortis regis Henrici primi." The term domicella proves their rank was noble, as this term will be seen applied even to the daughters of emperors.

Holinshed.

the memorable battle in which the standard of France was taken when Louis le Gros' favourite charger fell into his hands, he returned it to the French monarch the next day.

The King of France, as suzerain of Normandy, at the general pacification required Henry to perform the customary homage for his feof. This the victorious monarch considered derogatory to the dignity of a king of England to perform, and therefore deputed the office to Prince William, who was then invested with the duchy, and received the oath of fealty from the states.1

In June 1119, he solemnly espoused his betrothed bride Alice, the daughter of Fulk, Earl of Anjou. King Henry called her Matilda, out of respect, it is said, for the memory of his mother, but more probably from a tender regard for his deceased consort, Matilda of Scotland, the love of his youth, and the mother of his children. The marriage was celebrated at Lisieux, in the county of Burgundy, and the prince remained in Normandy with his young bride, attended by all the youthful nobility of England and the duchy, passing the time gaily with feasts and pageants till the 25th of November, in the year 1120, when King Henry, who had been nearly two years absent from his kingdom, and was desirous of returning to England with his heir, conducted Prince William, with his illustrious retinue, to Barfleur, where the king and his train embarked the same night.3

Fitz-Stephen, the captain of the Blanche Nef, the finest vessel in the Norman navy, demanded the honour

1 Ordericus Vitalis. Tyrrell.

2 Saxon Annals.

3 Ordericus Vitalis.

of conveying the heir of England home, because his father had commanded the Mora, the ship which brought William the Conqueror to the shores of England. His petition was granted, and the prince, with his gay and splendid company, entered the fatal bark with light heart, and commenced their voyage with mirth and minstrelsy. The prince incautiously ordered three casks of wine to be given to the ship's crew, and the sailors were in consequence, for the most part, intoxicated when they sailed about the close of day.

Prince William, who was desirous of overtaking the rest of the fleet, pressed Fitz-Stephen to crowd his sails and put out his sweeps. Fitz-Stephen having named the white ship as the swiftest vessel in the world, to make good his boast, and oblige his royal passenger, caused his men to stretch with all their might to the oars, and did everything to accelerate the speed of his light bark. While the Blanche Nef was rushing through the water with the most dangerous velocity, she suddenly struck on a rock called the Catte-raze with such impetuosity, that she started several planks, and began to sink. All was instant horror and confusion. The boat was, however, let down, and the young heir of England, with several of his youthful companions, got into it, and, having cleared the ship, might have reached the Norman shore in safety; but the cries of his illegitimate sister, Matilda Countess of Perche, who distinctly called on him by name for succour, moving him, with a tender impulse of compassion he commanded the boat back to take her in. Unfortunately, the moment it neared the ship, such numbers sprang into it, that it instantly sank

with its precious freight, and all on board perished; and of the three hundred persons who embarked in the white ship, but one soul escaped to tell the dismal tale. This person was a poor butcher of Rouen, named Berthould, who climbed to the top of the mast, and was the next morning rescued by some fishermen. Fitz-Stephen, the master of the luckless white ship, was a strong mariner, and stoutly supported himself for some hours in the water till he saw Berthould on the mast, and, calling to him, asked if the boat with the heir of England had escaped; but when the butcher, who had witnessed the whole catastrophe, replied, "that all were drowned and dead," the strong man's force failed him, he ceased to battle with the waves, and sank to rise no more.1

The report of this disaster reached England the next day. Theobald of Blois, the king's nephew, was the first who heard it, but he dared not inform his uncle of the calamity which had rendered his house desolate. Besides the heir apparent of England, Prince William, the Saxon chronicler says there was another son of Henry and Matilda, named Richard, and also Richard, a natural son of the king; Matilda, his natural daughter, Countess of Perche, Richard Earl of Chester, his cousin, with his bride, the young Lady Lucy of Blois, daughter of Henry's sister Adela, and the flower of the juvenile nobility.

King Henry had reached England with his fleet in safety, and for three days was permitted to remain in a state of the most agonizing suspense and uncertainty Thierry's Anglo-Normans.

respecting the fate of his children. No one choosing to become the bearer of such evil tidings, at length Theobald de Blois, finding it could no longer be concealed, instructed a favourite little page to communicate the mournful news to the bereaved father; and the child, entering the royal presence with a sorrowful step, knelt down at Henry's feet, and told him that the prince and all on board the white ship were lost. The great Henry was so thunderstruck with this dreadful news, that he staggered and sank upon the floor in a deep swoon, in which state he remained for many hours. When he recovered, he broke into the bitterest lamentations, magnifying at the same time the great qualities of his heir, and the loss he had sustained; and the chroniclers all agree that he was never again seen to smile.

It is Henry of Huntington who exults so uncharitably over the catastrophe of the white ship, in the following burst of poetic eloquence :

"The proud youth, he thought of his future reign, when he said he would yoke the Saxons like oxen. But God said, 'It shall not be, thou impious one, it shall not be;' and so it has come to pass, that brow has worn no crown of gold, but has been dashed against the rocks of the ocean. 'Twas God himself who would not that the son of the Norman should again see England."

Brompton also speaks unfavourably of this unfortunate young prince; but it should be remembered that England was a divided nation at that period, and the Saxon chroniclers wrote in the very gall of bitterness against those whom the Norman historians commended. Implicit credence is not to be given to the assertions of