Original.

THE FATE OF THE BLANCHE NAVIRE.*

The courts and thoroughfares of the old town-for it was old even then-by slow degrees grew silent and deserted; and, ere the sun was well above the wave, the

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE BROTHERS," CROMWELL," &c. multitudes which thronged them had rolled downward

The barque that held a prince went down,
The sweeping waves rolled on,
And what was England's glorious crown
To him who wept a son-HEMANS.

to the port, and stood in dense ranks gazing on its calm and sheltered basin. Glorious, indeed, and lovely was the sight when the first yellow rays streamed over the still waters-they waked the distant summits of the hills behind the town into a sudden life; they kissed the crest of every curling ripple that dimpled with its "innumerable laughter" the azure face of ocean; but more than all they seemed to dwell upon two noble barques, which lay, each riding at a single anchor, at a short arrow-shot from the white sands that girt as with a silver frame the liquid mirror of the harbor. Fashioned by the best skill of that early day, and ornamented with the most lavish splendor, though widely different from the floating castles of modern times, those vessels, the picked cruisers of the British navy were in their structure no less picturesque, than in their decoration royally magnificent. Long, low and buoyant they floated lightly as birds upon the surface-their open waists already bristling with the long oars by which, after the fashion of the Roman galley, they were propelled in serene weathertheir masts clothed with the wings which seemed in vain to woo the breeze-their elevated sterns and forecastles blazing with tapestries of gold and silverreflected in long lines of light, scarce broken by the dancing ripples. The larger of the two bore on her foresail blazoned in gorgeous heraldry the arms of Eng.

THE earliest dawning of a December's morning had not yet tinged the eastern sky, when in the port of Barfleur the stirring bustle which precedes an embarcation broke loudly on the ear of all who were on foot at that unseemly hour; nor were these few in number, for all the population of that town-far more considerable than it appears at present, when mightier cities, some rendered so by the gigantic march of commerce, some by the puissant and creative hands of military despotism, have sprung on every side into existence, and overshadowed its antique renown-were hastening through the narrow streets towards the water's edge. The many-paned stone-latticed casements gleamed with a thousand lights, casting a cheerful glare over the motley multitude, which swarmed before them, with all the frolic merriment of an unwonted holyday. All classes and all ranks might there be seen, of every age and sexBarons and Lords of high degree, clad in the rich attires of a half-barbarous yet gorgeous age, mounted on splendid horses, and attended by long retinues of armed and liveried vassals-ladies and demoiselles of birth and beauty curbing their Spanish jennets, and casting side-land-the second, somewhat smaller, but if anything long looks of love toward the favored knights, curvetmore elegant in her proportions, and fitted with a nicer ting in the conscious state of proud humility beside their taste although less sumptuous, was painted white from bridle-reins—as clearly visible, as at high noon, in the stem to stern, her oars, fifty in number, of the same spotbroad radiance of the torches, that accompanied their less hue were barred upon the blades with silver, and progress; while all around them, and behind, crowded on her foresail of white canvass overlaid with figured the humbler throng of mariners, and artisans, with damask were wrought among a glittering profusion of here a solemn burgher, proud in his velvet pour devices in characters of silver, the words "La Blanche point and his golden chain!-and there a barefoot Navire." Beyond them in the outer bay a dozen ships monk, far prouder in his frock of sackcloth and his or more were dimly seen, through the mist wreaths knotted girdle!—and ever and anon a group of merry which the wintry sun was gradually scattering, their maidens with their high Norman caps, and short-jupons canvass hanging in festoons from their long yardarms, of particolored serge crowding around the jongleur and their decks crowded not with mariners alone but with his ape and gittern; or pressing on to hear the with the steel-clad forms of men at arms and archers, loftier professor of the gai-science, girded with sword the gallant train of the third Norman who had swayed and dagger in token of his gentle blood, and followed by the destinies of England. The youngest son of the sagahis boy bearing the harp, which then had power to win, cious conqueror, after the death of the Red King, by arare not with the low-born and vulgar throng, but with the union of audacity and cunning, Henry, had seized the noble and the fair, high favor for its wandering master! sceptre of the fair island—the hereditary right of his romantic, generous and gallant brother, who with the feudatories of his Norman duchy was waging war upon the Saracen, neglectful of his own and of his subjects' interest alike, beneath the burning sun of Syria. Already firmly seated in his usurped dominion ere Robert returned homeward, nor yet contented with his ill-gained supremacy, he had wrung from the bold crusader, partly by force but more by fraud, his continental realms; The gai-science, so early as the commencement of the cen- and adding cruelty, which scarce can be conceived, to tury of which we write, had its degrees, its colleges, and its professora, who though itinerants and dependant for their subsis-violence and fraud deprived him of heaven's choicest tence on their instrument and voice, considered war no less blessing, sight, and cast him-of late the most renowntheir trade than song, esteeming themselves, and moreover admitted by others to be in the fullest sense, gentlemen. ed and glorious knight in Christendom-a miserable

The title given by the chroniclers to this ill-fated vessel is the Blanche Nef, the latter word being the old French for the modern term, which we have substituted. Singularly enough the ancient word survives as the name of a piece of antique gold plate modelled like a ship, in which the napkins of the royal table are served in the high ceremonials of the court of France.

The juggler of the middle ages, who like the street musicians of the present time were mostly Savoyards by birth, generally carried with them the ape or marmoset, even to this day their companion, and added to their feats of strength and sleight

of hand both minstrelsy and music.

136

THE FATE OF THE BLANCHE NAVIRE.

eyeless captive into the towers of Cardiff, his dungeon your father steered the FIRST, so shall you steer the while he lived, and after death his tomb. No retribu-THIRD King William, that shall be, to the white cliffs of tive justice had discharged its thunders upon the guilty England.” one-no gloom sat on his smooth and lordly brow, no "Well said, my liege," cried Foulke, the count of Anthorns had lurked beneath the circle of Henry's blood-jou, a noble looking baron of tall and stately presence, bought diadem. Fortune had smiled on every effort, although far past the noon of manhood, the father of the had granted every wish, however wild, had sanctioned || lovely bride-"to better mariner or braver ship, than every enterprise, however dubious or desperate-he stout Fitz Stephen and La Blanche Navire, was never never had known sorrow-and from his restless ener- freight entrusted! Quaff we a full carouse to their getic soul remorse and penitence were banished by the blythe voyage. How sayest thou, daughter, mine," he incessant turmoil of ambition, and the perpetual excite-added turning toward the blushing girl, who sat attired ment of success. And now his dearest wish had been in all the pomp of newly wedded royalty beside her accomplished-the most especial aim and object of his youthful lover, "How sayest thou? Would'st desire a life perfected with such absolute security that his insa-trustier pilot, or a fleeter galley?"

Dost thou then rue thy choice," whispered the ardent voice of William in her ear, "and wouldst thou tarry here, when fate and duty summons me hence for England?"

Her full blue eye met his, radiant with true affection, and her slight fingers trembled in the clasp of her young husband with a quick thrill of agitation, and her lips parted, but the words were heard by none save him to whom they were addressed, for with the clang of beak

merriment of all the courtly revellers, the toast of the bride's father passed round the gleaming board—“ A blythe and prosperous voyage-speed to the Blanche Navire, and joy to all who sail in her."

tiate soul was satisfied. Absolute lord of England, and Why," she replied, with a smile, half sweet half undisputed ruler of the fair Cotentin, he had of late dis-sorrowful, while a bright tear-drop glittered in her eyearmed the league which for a time had threatened his "why should I seek for fleetness, when that same speed security, detaching from the cause of France the pow- will but the sooner bear me from the sight of our fair erful Count of Anjou, whose daughter, the most lovely France, and of thee too, my Father?" lady, and the most splendid heiress of the time, he had seen wedded to his first-born, and his favorite, William. The previous day he had beheld the haughty barons tender the kiss of homage and swear eternal loyalty to the young heir of England, Normandy, and Anjou-the previous night he had sat glad and glorious at the festive board, encompassed by all that was fair, and noble, and high-born in the great realms he governed, and among all that proud and graceful circle his eye had looked on none so brave and beautiful as that youngers, and the loud swell of joyous music, and the glad guiltless pair for whom he had imbrued not his hands only, but his very soul in blood. He sat on the high dais, beneath the gilded canopy, and as he quaffed the health of those who had alone a kindly tenure of his cold and callous heart, a noble knight approached with Thus closed the festive evening, and thus the seal of bended knee, and placing in his hand a marc of gold-destiny was set upon an hundred youthful brows, fore"Fair Sir" he said—“I, a good knight and loyal, doomed alas! to an untimely grave beneath the ruthless Thomas Fitz Stephen, claim of your grace a boon. My Father, Stephen Fitz Evrard, served faithfully and wel!, so long as he did live your Father, William-served him by sea, and steered the ship with his own hand which bore him to that glorious crown which he right nobly won at Hastings. I pray you then, Fair King, that you do sell to me, for this gold marc, the fief I crave of you, that, as Fitz Evrard served the first King William, so may Fitz Stephen serve the first King Henry-I have right nobly fitted, aye! on mine honor, as beseems a mighty monarch, here in the bay of Barfleur, 'the Blanche Navire-' receive it at my hands, Great Sir, and suffer me to steer you homeward, and so may the blest virgin and her son send us the winds which we would have."

billows.

There

The wintry day wore onward; and, wintry though it was, save for a touch of keenness in the frosty air, and for the leafless aspect of the country, it might have passed for a more lightsome season-the sky was pure and cloudless, as were the prospects and the hopes of the gay throng who now embarked secure and confident beneath its favorable omens. The sun shone gaily as in the height of summer, and the blue waves lay sleeping in its lustre, as quietly as though they ne'er had howled despair into the ears of drowning wretches. was no thought of peril or of fear-how should there? The ships were trustworthy-the seamen skilful, numerous, and hardy-the breezes fair though faint-the voyage brief-the time propitious. The day wore onward; and it was high noon before the happy King, his every wish accomplished, secure as he conceived himself, and firm in the fruition of his bloodbought majesty, rowed with his glittering train on board the royal galley. Loud pealed the cheering clamors of his Norman subjects bidding their sovereign Hail-but louder yet they pealed when with its freight of ladies, the second barge

"Good knight and loyal," answered the prince, as he received the proffered coin-"Grieved am I, of a truth, and sorrowful that altogether I may not confer on you the fief, which of good right you claim—for lo, the barque || is chosen, nay more apparelled for my service, which must to-morrow, by heaven's mercy, bear me to that land whither your sire so fortunately guided mine. But since it may not be that I may sail myself, as would I could do so, in your good barque, to your true care will I en-shot forth-William and his fair sister, and yet fairer trust what I hold dearer than my very soul-my sonsmy daughters-mine and my country's hope—and as

bride, and all the loveliest of the dames that graced the broad Cotentin. Not yet, however, were the anchors

rang upon the favorable wind, and still the rowers sang amid their toil, and still the captain sent the deep bowl round-the helmsman dozed upon the tiller, the watch upon the forecastle had long since stretched themselves upon the deck, in the deep slumbers of exhaustion and satiety.

"Give way! my merry men-give way!"-such was the jovial captain's cry-"pull for the pride of Normandy-pull for your country's fame, men of the Fair Cotentin. What will ye let yon island lubbers outstrip ye in the race? More way! more way!"

weighed not yet were the sails sheeted home; for on the deck of the King's vessel-beneath an awning of pure cloth of gold-a gorgeous board was spread. Not in the regal hall of Westminster could more of luxury have been brought together than was displayed upon that galley's poop-spread with the softest ermine, meet carpet for the gentle feet that trod it, cushioned with seats of velvet, steaming with perfumes the most costly, it was a scene resembling more some fairy palace, than the wave-beaten fabric that had braved many a gale, and borne the flag of England through many a storm in triumph. And there they sat and feasted- And with unrivalled speed the Blanche Navire sped and the red wine-cup circled freely-and the song went ona long black line stretches before her bow-dotround-their hearts were high and happy, and they for-ting the silvery surface with ragged and fantastic shades got the lapse of hours-and still the reveller's shout was -but not one eye has marked it. On she goes-swifter frequent on the breeze, and still the melody of female yet and swifter-and still the fatal shout is ringing from tones, blent with the clang of instrumental music, rang her decks. "Give way! men of Cotentin-give more in the ears of those who loitered on the shore, after the way!"-Now they are close upon it-and now the dashsun had bathed his lower limb in the serene and peace-ing of the surf about the broken ledges-for that black ful waters. Then, as it were, awaking from their trance line is the dread Raz de Gatteville, the most tremenof luxury the banqueters broke off-skiff after skiff turn-dous reef of all that bar the iron coast of Normandyed shoreward, till none remained on board the Royal the hoarse and hollow roar must reach the ears even of ship except the monarch and his train, and that loved son those who sleep. But no! the clangor of the exulting with his bright consort, whom, parting from them there, trumpets, and the deep booming of the Norman nakir, he never was to look upon again. The courses were and that ill omened shout "give way-yet more-more unfurled-topsails were spread, and pennants floated way!" has drowned even the all-pervading roar of the seaward, and as the good ship gathered way-the father wild breakers. On! on! she goes fleet as the gazebade adieu―adieu, as he believed it, but for one little hound darting upon its antlered prey-and now her bows night to all he loved on earth-and their barge manned are bathed by the upflashing spray-and now-hark to by a score of powerful and active rowers wafted the that hollow shock-that long and grinding crash-hark bridal party to the Blanche Navire, which, as her pre-to that wild and agonizing yell sent upward by two huncious freight drew nigh, luffed gracefully and swiftly updred youthful voices, up to the glorious stars that smile to meet them, as though she were a thing of life, conscious as if in mockery of their ruin. There rang the voice of and proud of the high honor she enjoyed in carrying the the strong fearless man-the knight who had spurred united hopes of Normandy and England. oft his destrier amid the shivering of lances and the rending clash of blades, without a thought unless of high

Delay-there was yet more delay-the night had settled down upon the deep, before the harbor of Bar-excitement and fierce joy-the mariner who undismayed fleur was fairly left behind—and yet so lovely was the had reefed his sail, and steered his barque aright, amid night, with the moon, near her full, soaring superbly the wildest storm that ever lashed the sea to fury-now through the cloudless sky, myriads on myriads of clear utterly unnerved and paralyzed by the appalling change stars weaving their mystic dance around her, that the from mirth and revelry to imminent and instant death. young voyagers walked to and fro the deck rejoicing in So furious was the rate at which the galley was prothe happy chance that had secured to them so fair a pelled, that when she struck upon the sharp and jagged time for their excursion-and William sat aloof with rocks, her prow was utterly stove inward, and the strong his sweet wife beside him indulging in those bright an- tide rushed in foaming and roaring like a mill-stream.ticipations, those golden dreams of happiness, which in- Ten second's space she hung upon the perilous ledge, deed make futurity a paradise to those, who have not while the waves made a clear breach over her, sweeping, learned, by the sad schoolings of experience, that hu- not only every living being, but every fixture-spars, man life is but another name for human sorrow. Fairer bulwarks, shrouds, and the tall masts themselves-from -the breeze blew fairer-and every sail was set and her devoted decks. At the first shock, with the indrawing—and the light ripples burst with a gurgling stinctive readiness that characterises in whatever peril, sound like laughter about the snow-white stem, and, still the true mariner, Fitz Stephen rallying to his aid a dozen to waft them the more swiftly to their home-fifty long of the bravest of his men had cleared away and launched oars, pulled well and strongly by as many nervous arms, a boat-and, even as the fated barque went down, bodily glanced in the liquid swell-the bubbles on the surface sucked into the whirling surf, had seized the prince and were scarcely seen as they flashed by, so rapid was their dragged him with a stalwart arm into the little skiff, and a long wake of boiling foam glanced in the which had put off at once to shun the drowning hunmoonshine till it was lost to sight in the far distance-dreds, who must have crowded in and sunk her on the the port was far behind them, and the king's ship, seen faintly on the gliminering horizon, loomed like a pile of vapor far on their starboard bow. And still the music

course,

instant.

"Pull back-God's death-pull back," cried the impetuous youth as he looked round and saw that he alone

survivor of that night of misery, was brought in by a Fishing-boat which had preserved him—and, when he had concluded his narration, Robert of Normandy had been revenged, although his wrongs had been a hundred fold more flagrant than they were. Henry, though he lived years, NEVER SMILED AGAIN!

of all his race was there" pull back, ye dastard slaves, || back to Barfleur. On the third day Berault, the sole or by the Lord and Maker of us all, though ye escape the waves, ye 'scape not my revenge”—and, as he spoke, he whirled his weapon from the scabbard and pressed the point so closely to Fitz Stephen's throat that its keen temper razed the skin-and, terrified by his fierce menaces and yet more by the resolute expression that glanced forth from his whole countenance, they turned her head once more toward the reef, and shot into the vortex agitated yet and boiling, wherein the hapless: galley had been swallowed. A female head, with long

Original.
HONOR.

fair hair, rose close beside the shallop's stern above the A soliloquy from" the Christian Senator,”--a tragedy. turbulent foam. William bent forward, he had already clutched those golden tresses-a moment and she would have been enfolded in his arms-another head rose suddenly-another-and another-and another twenty strong hands grappled the gunwale of the skiff with the tenacity of desperation-there was a struggle a loud shout-a heavy plunge, and the last remnant of the Blanche Navire went down, actually dragged from beneath the few survivors by the despairing hands of those, whom she could not have saved or succored had she been of ten times her burthen.

All! all went down-there was a long and awful pause, and then a slight splash broke the silence, a faint and gurgling sigh, and a strong swimmer rose and shook the brine from his dark locks and lo he was alone upon the deep-something he saw at a brief distance, distinct and dark, floating upon the surface, and with a vigorous stroke he neared it—a fragment of a broken spar-hope quickened at his heart, and love of life, almost forgotten in the immediate agony and terror, returned in all its natural strength-he seized a rope and by its aid reared himself out of the abyss, and now he sat, securely as he deemed it, upon a floating fragment on which, one little hour before, he would not have embark ed for all the wealth of India. Scarce had he reached his temporary place of safety, before another of the suf ferers swam feebly up and joined him—and then a third -the last of the survivors. The first who reached the spar-it was no other than Fitz Stephen, had perused with an anxiety the most sickening and painful the faces of the new comers-he knew them-but they were not the features he would have given his own life to see in safety. Berault, a butcher of Rouen-and Godfrey, a renowned and galiant youth, the son of Gilbert, count de L'Aigle. "The Prince-where is the prince ?" Fitz Stephen cried to each, as he arrived. "Hast thou not seen the Prince ?"-and each in turn replied, "He never rose again. He-nor his brothers-nor his sister-nor his bride-nor one of all their company!" "Wo! be to me!" Fitz Stephen cried, and letting go his hold, deliberately sank into the whirling waters, and, though a strong man and an active swimmer, chose to die with the victims whom his rashness had destroyed, rather than meet the indignation of their bereaved father, and bear the agonies of his own lifelong remorse.

Three days elapsed, before the tidings reached King Henry, who in the fearful misery of hope deferred had lingered on the beach, trusting to hear that, from some unknown cause, the galley of his son might have put

AND what's Honor, born of earth?
Great Alexander strode o'er hecatombs:
Great Caesar shook a world! And these are heroes,
And mighty conquerors. What's conqueror
But flatt'ry's other name for murderer?
Ay, wholesale murderer! Your citizen
To grasp revenge, or rob his neighbor's chest,
Destroys his fellow. 'Twas a cursed deed,
And he's accursed that did compass it.
But he, who sweepeth states and kingdoms o'er,
When fell Ambition hath his heart possessed,
Or lust of conquest, shedding bravest blood,—
With laurelled brows is earthly demigod!
Cesar is in his grave; his mortal part
Resolved to dust: where's the immortal essence?
Doth Honor pass the grave? There do we stick!
When conqueror and citizen shall hear
The last loud trumpet, pealing through the sky,
Pray thee, both unrepentant, which would'st be,
Of these two murderers? Let Honor go.
She hath a glittering robe, but it doth hide

A fleshless frame, a lifeless skeleton!

H. F. H.

THE man who writes the history of woman's love, will find himself employed in drawing out a tangled skein. It is a history of secret emotions and vivid contrasts which may well go nigh to baffle his penetration, and to puzzle his philosophy. There is in it a surface of timid, gentle bashfulness, concealing an underflow of strong and heavy passions, a seeming ca price that a breath may shake, or a word alarm, yet all the while, an earnest devotion of soul, which, in its exalted action, holds all danger cheap that crosses the path of its career. The sportive, changeful, and coward nature that dallies with affection as a jest, and wins admiration by its affrighted coyness; that flies and would be followed-that revolts and would be soothed, entreated, and on bended knees implored, before it is won; that same nature will undergo the ordeal of the burning plough-share, take all the extremes of misery and distress, brave the fury of the elements and the wrath of man-in every peril be a patient comforter, when the cause that moves is the vindication of her love. Affection is to her what glory is to a man, an impulse that inspires the most adventurous heroism.