"The king's plottings, and much of his cruel treatment of his brother Robert, sprang from his strong desire that this son might succeed him on the throne.

"Did Prince Henry succeed his father as king?

"The people of Normandy and other French territories under the Norman crown rebelled against Henry. The king, by the aid of the Pope, pacified the discontented people by fair promises, and a peace was made, upon which the king and the prince and a great retinue of n.o.bles went to Normandy, to arrange some very important matters of state.

"During this state visit, the Norman n.o.bles were induced to recognize, with great pomp, Prince Henry as the successor to the king; and a marriage was contracted for the prince.

"In honor of these events, there were gala-days and festivals, and at every scene of rejoicing the prince was the glittering star.

"The heart of the king swelled with pride. He had reason to hope that all his plottings, and pilferings of crowns and dominions, were about to end happily. The future seemed almost without a cloud.

"One bright day in autumn, after these events, the prince and a gay party prepared to embark for England.

"There came to the king a man by the name of Fitz-Stephen, who said that he was the son of the sea-captain who conveyed the Conqueror to England on the ship with many-colored sails. He said, also, that he had a beautiful ship, all white, and manned by fifty sea-browned sailors, and that he would deem it a great honor to take the royal party to England.

"'I have ordered my ship,' said the king, after a little deliberation; 'but yours shall have the honor of conveying the prince and young n.o.bles to England.'

"So the prince, and one hundred and twenty-two n.o.bles, and eighteen ladies of rank, all young, and full of merry life, went on board of the White Ship.

"The king sailed away while it was yet day, leaving the prince and his company still in the harbor.

"'Now,' said the prince, 'the king has gone, we will have a merry-making. The time is ours, and we can spend it right jovially on the deck of our beautiful ship.'

"He then ordered Fitz-Stephen to provide three casks of wine for the fifty sailors. The harbor grew dusky, and the hunter's moon rose, shimmering the wide waters. The wine flowed freely, the n.o.bles danced, and the beautiful ladies joined heartily in the revelries.

"The great sea sobbed before and around them, but merry music filled their ears.

"At length, they shot out of the moonlit harbor. The sailors were excited and half-drunk. The royal party urged them to row with speed, in order to overtake the vessels of the king. Fitz-Stephen was in the same condition as his crew, and steered recklessly.

"Soon there came a terrific crash. The White Ship reeled and reeled, but went no farther. She had struck upon rocks, and the mirth was turned to wailing and woe.

"As the ship was sinking, the prince leaped on board a boat. As he was rowed away, he heard his sister calling for help from the deck of the staggering vessel. Putting back, he reached the place just as the White Ship was making her last plunge. Great numbers of the terrified and desperate young men leaped on board of the boat. It overturned, and the prince went down in the deep waters.

"Thus in a moment were baffled the purposes of King Henry for so many guilty years; and, of the three hundred souls that made merry in the moonlit harbor of Balfleur, but one survived to tell the dismal tale.

"For some days no one dared to approach the king with the dreadful intelligence. At length, a little boy was sent to him to break the news, who, weeping, knelt at his feet, and told him that the White Ship was lost, and the prince had perished. The king fell to the floor as dead. The historians tell us that he never smiled again.

"I do not greatly pity him; for he lied again, and he stole again, and he made the people suffer again, and I have little doubt that he smiled again, when some plot of his crafty old age had ended to his liking.

"Mrs. Hemans, in a short historical poem, tenderly touches on the sorrow of King Henry for the lost prince; and, as I have not alluded to that sorrow in a very charitable spirit, I will quote the stanzas:--

HE NEVER SMILED AGAIN.

"The bark that held a prince went down, The sweeping waves roll'd on; And what was England's glorious crown To him that wept a son?

He lived,--for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain; Why comes not death for those who mourn?-- He never smiled again!

There stood proud forms around his throne, The stately and the brave; But which could fill the place of one, That one beneath the wave?

Before him pa.s.s'd the young and fair, In pleasure's reckless train; But seas dash'd o'er his son's bright hair-- He never smiled again!

He sat where festal bowls went round, He heard the minstrel sing, He saw the tourney's victor crown'd, Amidst the knightly ring: A murmur of the restless deep Was blent with every strain, A voice of winds that would not sleep-- He never smiled again.

Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace Of vows once fondly pour'd, And strangers took the kinsman's place At many a joyous board; Graves, which true love had bathed with tears, Were left to heaven's bright rain, Fresh hopes were born for other years-- He never smiled again!"

TOMMY TOBY'S STORY OF THE FROLICSOME DUKE.

Tom Toby's turn came next, and at the announcement of his name there was a sudden lighting up of faces. Tom's face, which was usually rather comical, a.s.sumed a more mirth-loving expression than ever.

"You said," he began, "that we were to visit Ghent and Bruges. I believe these towns were in old Flanders, and that Flanders was in Burgundy. One of the most clever rulers of whom I ever read was Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, though he had some faults when he used to be young like me.

"The good Duke married Eleonora, sister to the King of Portugal. The wedding was celebrated in great pomp at Bruges, and the merry-makings lasted a week.

"Christopher Sly was a tinker, and a tinker was a man who used to 'roam the countries around,' crying, 'Old bra.s.s to mend!' and who repaired the good people's broken pots and kettles.

"Christopher heard of the great wedding in his travels, and came to Bruges to enjoy the merry-making with the rest.

"He had only one pair of breeches, and they were made of leather. He deemed them suitable for all occasions. He had never arrived at the luxury of a coat, but in its place he wore a large leather ap.r.o.n, which covered his great shoulders, like the armor of a knight.

"Christopher had one bad habit. He loved ale overmuch, and he used to drink so deeply on festive occasions as to affect the steadiness both of his mind and body.

"Christopher enjoyed the gala-days. He mingled in the gay processions that followed the ducal pair to the tournament; he gazed with loyal pride on the horses with their trappings of crimson and gold; he followed the falconers to the hunting-parks, and listened to the music that led the dance at night in the torch-lit palace.

"The ducal wedding took place in the deep of winter; and one night, soon after the joyful event, and while Bruges was yet given up to festivities, there fell a great snow-storm, blocking the streets and silencing the town.

"Christopher's money was gone, and the falling weather chilled not only his blood, but his spirits. He wandered about in the storm, going from ale-house to ale-house, and receiving hospitality, until the town of Bruges seemed to revolve around him as its inhabitants around the Duke. Still he plodded away through the streets, longing to see the warm fires glow and the torches gleam in the ducal palace. When he had nearly reached the palace, the town began to spin and whirl around him at such a rate that presently he sank in the chilly snow and knew no more.

"'I am tired of the palace,' said the Duke to some courtiers. 'Let us go into the streets this bl.u.s.tering night: it may be that we shall meet with an adventure.'

"The Duke, with a few m.u.f.fled followers, glided out of one of the palace gates, and the gleamings of their lanterns shot down the street. Presently the Duke stumbled over some object, lying half-buried in the snow.

"'What's here?'

"'A dead man,' answered a courtier.

"'A drunken tinker,' answered an attendant, turning over the body of a man lying like a log in the snow. 'How he snores! Dead drunk, as I live!'

"'He would perish here before morning,' said the Duke.

"'What is to be done?' asked a courtier.

"'Take him to the palace, and we will have some sport with him. I will cause him to be washed and dressed and perfumed, and to be laid in a chamber of state. He will awake sober in the morning, when we will persuade him that _he_ is the Duke, and that we are his attendants.

To-morrow the whole Court of Burgundy shall serve a poor tinker!'

"The attendants carried the unconscious tinker to the palace, where they washed him, and, putting upon him an elegant night-dress, laid him on a silk-curtained bed, in a very gorgeous chamber.

"The poor tinker, on waking in the morning, looked about the room in wonder. He concluded that he must be dreaming, or that he had become touched in mind, or that he had died the night before and had been so happy as to get to heaven.

"At last, the Duke entered the apartment in the habit of the ducal chamberlain.