William did see, but his father’s motives and his were not quite the same.

‘So,’ went on Henry, ‘we have lost a valuable horse and his splendid accoutrements. Let us hope we have gained in good will. But you have done this thing without consulting me and it would seem that you now fancy yourself as a man capable of rule. Well, then, it is time you married. The ceremony must be delayed no longer. I fear your father-in-law may grow restive. Your wife is young...twelve years old, but Matilda went to her German Emperor at that age.’

‘I would lief wait awhile, father.’

‘Come, you are a laggard. And we cannot wait on your whims. This marriage must take place without delay. We have routed the enemy; now we must consolidate our gains. I need the help of Fulk of Anjou and only when his daughter and my son are wed can I be sure of it. We shall leave for Burgundy forthwith and there a very impatient young bride will be awaiting her husband.’

* * * * *

She was very young and her name was Alice, although the King said that he wished her to be known as Matilda.

‘It will give me great pleasure if this be done,’ said the King, ‘for deeply do I mourn my beloved and virtuous Queen.

And it will give her pleasure if when looking down from Heaven she sees her son married to another Matilda. My mother too was Matilda, my wife was Matilda, though she was christened Edith, and this beautiful child, this Alice, shall be another Matilda too.’

Fulk did not care what his daughter was called as long as she was the future Queen of England.

As for the girl herself, she was so enamoured of the handsome, gentle youth who was to be her husband that she was as happy to change her name to Matilda as her father was for her to do so.

In the town of Lisieux there were great celebrations. Fulk was delighted with the honours done to him and that he had succeeded in making a brilliant match for his daughter. The King was under no illusion. He knew that this marriage was the price Fulk asked for his loyalty but he felt it was wise to pay it.

The young couple were charming to look upon and there was great revelry in the neighbourhood for everyone hoped that this marriage would bring the peace they so desired.

William was tender with his little bride, aware of her extreme youth. His cousin Stephen chided him and said that he was no husband, but William had no intention of frightening the child.

‘‘Tis a pity,’ said Stephen, ‘that we cannot marry where we will.’ He was thinking of another Matilda, such a one as he had never known before, nor ever would, and his young meek Matilda who was now his wife. So many Matildas and all different! Only one was bold and exciting and what was she doing now? He did hear that her husband was indulgent towards her. Stephen laughed. Poor old man, trust Matilda to make sure of that. She was popular with her husband’s German subjects. She spoke German well; she was cheered when she rode into the streets.

He could imagine her, bold, proud and exciting Matilda!

If he could have married her...If William had been killed in battle and the King too and Matilda were Queen of England and she married Stephen...

He was being foolish, indulging in impossible dreams; but in dreams he often saw a glittering crown that was being put on his head.

It was ridiculous. How could it possibly happen? There were too many in between, so he must be content with the lands his uncle would give him, and he must try to be satisfied with his mild little Matilda. There were other women and always would be. He would follow his uncle in his way of life. Others had done so before him. He and Matilda must get children and he would obtain grants and blessings for them from his uncle; and his cousin he guessed would be even more generous when he came to the throne.

It was a promising future, but he was near enough to the crown to covet it and not near enough to be able to grasp it.

And so he gave himself up to the revelry and often his nights were charmed by some fair maiden of Burgundy. His little wife was safe in England, no doubt longing for his return. That would not be long delayed for the King had been away from England for more than a year.

Matilda the Queen had died; and William the Prince was married.

It was time the royal party returned to England to assure themselves that all was well there.

The White Ship

Henry could congratulate himself. For the time being at least there was peace in Normandy. He had friends in useful places and he could afford to return to England from which he had been away for two years.

With his cavalcade he arrived at Barfleur where his ships were waiting to carry him home. Among these was the beautiful White Ship undoubtedly one of the finest in his fleet. He was filled with pride as he watched her dancing on the waters.

He was in his tent making the last preparations for leaving which he liked to superintend himself and which gave him a chance a display his special talent and to assure himself that all details were correct when the captain of the White Ship asked for an audience.

Captain Fitz-Stephen was a man he respected and Henry was pleased to hear what he had to say.

‘I have a request to make, my lord,’ he said.

‘Well then, make it,’ replied the King.

‘I would like the honour of carrying the heir to the throne to England, sir.’

Henry who had planned to sail in the White Ship himself was momentarily silent. He could not sail in the same vessel as his son. That was a rule he had made and it seemed fitting to him that the King should sail in the finest ship.

‘My lord,’ went on Fitz-Stephen, ‘my father was captain of your father’s ship the Mora, and he had the honour, of which he talked often, of carrying Great William to England in the year 1066.’

‘That was before I was born, Captain.’

‘Ay, sire, and he never forgot it. He made a sea captain of me and he said that he hoped one day I should enjoy as great an honour. If I could but take the Prince of England, sire, my father would look down in such pride that the angels would sing for us.’

Henry laughed.

‘So you would carry the Prince, not the King.’

‘I would follow your wishes, my lord.’

‘But you asked to carry the Prince.’

‘It came to me that I would like to carry the heir of England.’

‘So be it,’ said the King. ‘I will not travel on the White Ship but will sail with my men. Let the Prince sail on that ship and choose those of his friends whom he would wish to accompany him. I wish to sail with my gallant soldiers who have helped me to win this victory.’

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.