CHAPTER XXV
THE WHITE SHIP
The rebellion extended, castle after castle fell; those of the Normanswho remained maintained themselves within fortresses, like Pembroke andAberystwyth, that could receive provisions from the sea. Powys wasseething--a thrill of excitement had run through Gwynedd, and the agedKing there quaked lest his people should rise, dethrone him, and call onGriffith to reign over them, and combine north and south in one againstthe invader.
It was in the favor of the Welsh that King Henry was out of the country.He was warring against the French King in Normandy, and the malcontentsin the duchy.
In order to punish the Welsh, he had sent Owen ap Cadogan at the head ofa body of men into the country. Owen was furious because the people ofCardigan had greeted Griffith as their prince. Cardigan was the kingdomto which Owen laid claim, but he had done nothing to maintain this claimagainst Strongbow. Yet no sooner did he hear that a cousin, Griffith apRhys, had been welcomed there as its deliverer and prince, than inuncontrolled rage he gathered a troop of ruffians, and aided by the menafforded him by King Henry, he invaded Dyfed, and took an oath that hewould massacre every man, woman, and child he came across till he hadcut his way, and left a track of blood from the Usk to the Atlantic.
Thus a Welsh prince, with a mixed host of Welshmen and English, had comeamong the mountains that had cradled him to exterminate those of his ownblood and tongue.
The horrors he committed, his remorseless savagery, sent men and womenflying before him to the wastes and heaths of the Brecknock mountains,and they carried with them the infirm and feeble, knowing well that Owenwould spare neither the gray head nor the infant.
Enraged at not finding more food for his sword, he marked his onwardcourse with flame, destroying farms and homesteads.
An appointment was made for the host of Owen, another led by RobertConsul, and the disciplined foreigners under Gerald of Windsor, who hadbeen reinforced from the sea--to converge and unite in one great armyfor the chastisement of South Wales.
It so happened, while thus marching, that Owen, with about a hundredmen, detached himself from the main body to fall on and butcher a partyof fugitives on their way to the fastnesses of the mountains. Returningwith their plunder and their blades dripping with blood, Owen and hisruffians came near to where Gerald of Windsor was on his way.
Then up flamed the rage of the baron, and he resolved on using theopportunity to discharge a personal debt of honor. It was this Owen whohad penetrated as a friend into Pembroke, and had carried off Gerald'swife, Nest.
At once he turned and fell on Owen and his murderous band, cut them topieces, and slew the man against whom he bore so bitter a grudge.
Henry had returned from Normandy; he was triumphant. Peace had beendeclared, and his son William had been invested with the duchy. The Kinghastened to Westminster as soon as he had landed, expecting his sons,William and Richard, and his daughter, Matilda, to follow him in a dayor two. As he was about to embark at Barfleur, there had come to him oneThomas Fitz-Stephen, the son of the man who had conveyed the Conquerorto England. At his petition, Henry accorded him the favor of convoyingthe princes and the princess across the Channel in his splendid newvessel, the _White Ship_.
The crew, greatly elated at this honor, after having received theirpassengers on board, begged Prince William that he would order drink tobe supplied them, and this he imprudently granted. A revel ensued, whichwas kept up even after the King and his fleet had put to sea. Owing tothis, Henry arrived in England without the _White Ship_ remaining insight and forming a portion of the fleet. He was not, however, in anyconcern, as the sea was calm and there was little wind, and he made hisway at once to Windsor.
Almost immediately on his arrival, Nest appeared before him.
The King was in a bad humor. He was vexed at his children not havingarrived. He was very angry because his porcupine was dead. The servantwhose duty it was to attend to the natural rarities Henry collected,assured him that this death was due to the porcupine's licking himselflike a cat, to keep himself clean, and he had accidentally swallowed oneof his own quills, which had transfixed his heart.
"And, Sire," said the man; "when I saw him licking himself, I blessedHeaven, as I thought it to be a token of fair weather while your Majestywas crossing the sea."
"You should not have suffered him to lick himself," said the Kingangrily.
"Sire, I believed he was cleaning his spines, that he might present hisbest appearance to your Majesty."
"Take him away!" ordered Henry, addressing a man-at-arms, "and say he isto receive fifty stripes at the pillory for his negligence. Well, whatare you here for, Nest? This is a cursed bad augury on my return to findmy porcupine dead and you here with a complaint."
"Sire," said the Princess, "at one time my presence was not ofill-augury to you."
"Times have changed. I am driven mad with rebellion. First in Normandy,then in Wales. One has no peace. But I have beaten down all oppositionin the duchy, and now I shall turn my attention to your country. Whatdo you want? To threaten and scold, as once before?"
"No--only to entreat."
"Oh, you women! you plead, and if you do not get what you ask, then youmenace. What one of all your threats and denunciations has come true?What single one?"
"Oh, my Sovereign," said Nest, "hearken to me but this once. Now thereis an occasion such as may not present itself again of pacifying Walesand making my dear people honor you and submit to your scepter."
"What is that?"
"Owen ap Cadogan is dead. He entered his native land slaying and layingwaste, so that every Cymric heart trembled before him--some with fear,others with resentment. And now--he is dead, Gerald my husband, who hadsome wrong to redress----"
Henry burst into derisive laughter.
"Gerald killed him; and now the Welsh people hail him as havingdelivered them from their worst foe."
"Then let them submit."
"But, Sire and King, their wrongs are intolerable. Oh, let there be someholding of the hand. Lay not on them more burdens; meddle not furtherwith their concerns. I speak to you now, not for the princes, but forthe people."
"It is well that you speak not for the princes. The worst of all, arebellious dragon, is your brother Griffith. Him I shall not spare."
"I speak for the people. Sire, there is one truth they have taken toheart now by the fall of Owen. It is that given in Scripture: Put notyour trust in princes! Those we have known have failed; and fail theyall will, because they seek their own glory, and not the welfare of thepeople. Our Cymri know this now. Griffith of Gwynedd and Owen ofCardigan have taught them that. Therefore, they are ready to bow underthe scepter of England, if that scepter, in place of being used to stirup one prince against another, be laid on all to keep them intranquillity. What my people seek is peace, protection, justice. Sire,you are mistaken if you believe that the Welsh people rise against theoverlordship of your Crown. They rise because they can obtain no peace,no justice from the Norman adventurers sent among them, and noprotection against their best lands being taken from them and given toFlemings. Sire, trust the people. Be just and generous to them. Protectthem from those who would eat them up. All they rise for, fight for--arethe eternal principles of justice as between man and man. Your mensnatch from them their lands; their homes they are expelled from; eventheir churches are taken from them."
"Ah, ha, Nest! I have the sanction of Heaven there. Did not your BritishChurch resist Augustine? Does it not now oppose our See of Canterbury?And as Heaven blesses the right and punishes the wrong, so has itmarvelously interposed to silence evil tongues. When my Bernard wasresisted, fire fell from heaven and consumed those who opposed him, inthe sight of all men. I believe a hundred men were suddenly andinstantaneously burnt."
"You heard that from Bernard."
"It has been published throughout England. I have spoken of it myself tothe successor of the Apostles, to Pope Callixtus, at Rheims, and he wasmightily gratified, for, said he, I ev
er held that British Church to betainted with heresy. And he reminded me that when the British bishopsopposed Augustine, they were massacred at Bangor. Which was verysatisfactory. So now with my Bernard----"
"Bernard!" exclaimed Nest, boldly interrupting the King, "Bernard is anarch liar! Sire! a priest named Pabo struck the bishop in the mouth, andknocked out one or two of his teeth."
"I noticed this and rallied him on his whistling talk. But he saidnought of the blow."
"It was so. And he pretends that Pabo was smitten by lightning forhaving thus struck him. But, Sire, I have seen this priest since thealleged miracle; his hair is unsinged. He has a hearty appetite, andgood teeth--not one struck out by lightning--wherewith to consume hisfood. The smell of fire has not passed upon him."
The King broke into a roar of laughter.
"That is Bernard! Bernard to the life! A rogue in business. He cheatedmy Queen, and now tries to cheat me with a lie, and sets up as thefavored of Heaven. You are sure of it?"
"Quite sure; Bernard endeavored to huddle the man out of the way lestthe lie should be found out."
"Famous!" The King had recovered his good-humor. "And to see thesolemnity and conviction of the Holy Father when he heard the story."Again he exploded into laughter. "I must go tell the Queen. It is fun,it will put her in a passion."
"And, Sire! about my people--my poor Welsh people?"
"I will see to it. I will consider--what did I hear? You have broughtyour young child with you?"
"Yes, Sire, he is without."
"Let me see him--has he your beauty or Gerald's ugliness?"
"Your Majesty shall judge."
Nest went towards the door, but turned. "Oh, Sire, forget not myentreaty for my people."
"Away--fetch the boy. I will think on it."
Nest left the room.
In the ante-chamber all present were in obvious consternation, pale, anddejected.
She had left her little son with a servant, and she crossed the chamber.
Then the Chancellor, who was present, came to her, drew her into theembrasure of a window, and spoke to her in awestruck tones. At his wordsher cheek blanched.
"None dare inform him," said the Chancellor. "We have instructed thechild. Suffer him to enter alone and tell the tale."
For a moment Nest could not speak; something rose in her throat. Shesigned to the boy to come to her. "Do you know what to say?"
"Yes, mother; that the _White Ship_----"
"Cast yourself at the King's feet, tell him all; and when you have saidthe last words, 'The princes, thy sons, be dead; thy daughter also, shelikewise is dead'--then pause and say in a loud voice, 'RememberWales!'"
The child was dismissed. He passed behind a curtain, then through thedoor into the royal presence.
All without stood hushed, trembling with emotion, hardly breathing, nonelooking on another.
Then, in the stillness, came a loud and piercing cry; a cry that cut tothe hearts of such as heard it like a stiletto.
In another moment Henry staggered forth, blanched, and as one drunk,with hands extended and lifted before his face, and in a harsh voice,like a madman's shriek, he cried: "It has come. The judgment of God! Iam a dry and a branchless tree, blasted in the midst of life--blasted inthe hour of victory." Then he reeled to a table, threw himself on hisknees, laid his head on his hands, and burst into tears.
None moved. None ventured near him. The Bishop of London was there--buthe felt that no words of his were of avail now.
So they stood hardly breathing, watching the stricken man, who quiveredin the agony of his bereavement.
Presently he lifted his face--so altered as to be hardly recognizable,livid as that of a corpse, and running down with tears. He turnedtowards Nest and said--"Go, woman, go--it shall be as thou hast desired.I am judged."
What had occurred needs but a few words of explanation.
When the _White Ship_ started the captain assured Prince William thatsuch was her speed that she would overtake the King's ship, and evenpass it and leave behind the royal squadron. The signal was given, andthe _White Ship_ left the harbor, impelled to her utmost speed by fiftyexcited rowers; but she had not proceeded far before she was drivenviolently against a reef, which stove in two planks of her starboardbow. Prince William was put into the boat, and was already on his waytowards the land when, hearing the cries of his sister from the sinkingvessel, he ordered his rowers to put back and save her. He was obeyed;but on reaching the wreck such a rush was made by the frantic passengersto enter their boat that she was swamped, and the whole crowd wasswallowed in the scarcely troubled sea. William and Richard, the twosons of Henry, and their sister Matilda, and three hundred others,chiefly persons of exalted rank, perished on this occasion.
Nest returned to Wales.
She had gained all that she desired. She went at once to Dynevor. Therewas her brother, Griffith, who had done much to restore the ruinouscastle of his fathers, the kings of Dyfed.
"Griffith," said she, "I have done what I could. For thee, free pardonand reinstatement in thy principality--yet is it not to be a kingdom,only as a great chiefdom. The King undertakes to suffer no more Englishor Normans to enter our country and carve out for themselves baroniestherein. Nor will he send into it any more Flemings. But such as arehere shall remain, and Norman, Fleming, and Welshman alike shall beunder his scepter, and be justly ruled, the English by their own laws,the Welsh by those of Rhodric Dda." She looked round and saw Pabo, "andfor thee--return thou to Caio and thy Archpriesthood--and to thy wife.Let Bernard look to it. The King will not forget the story of thy beingconsumed with fire from Heaven for having knocked out one of thebishop's teeth. And now, Griffith, give me the armlet of Maxen Wledig.We have both deserved well of our country."
THE END.
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