Saturday, January 27, 2024

One Night of Imbibing on Wine - Centuries of Death Unleashed

Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: 
and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise. 
Proverbs 20:1

One night of Imbibing on Wine, while sailing a ship, led to centuries
of bloodshed---pain, suffering and death. As a result the heir to the throne died. This led to a civil war known as "The Anarchy". 
The results of that would lead to the expansion of Anglo-Norman holdings in France which led to the Hundred Years War.
All because of one night with the Wine Bottle.
The Lesson: When you hear people whine about "where is God" in the suffering and death on the pages of history---we do it to ourselves.

"The greatest twelfth century English historian, William of Malmesbury, wrote: ‘No Ship that ever sailed brought England such Disaster,’ and that assessment of the scale of the tragedy, remarkably, stands to this day.

It was the passenger list of the White Ship that made its loss so
uniquely awful. Apart from Henry I’s only legitimate son,
William Ætheling, it included two of the king’s natural children, the cream of the Anglo-Norman aristocracy (including eighteen ladies with the rank of countess or above), several of the great generals who had finally brought England complete victory over France, as well as the bureaucrats who controlled Henry’s strict, effective, royal governance.

Only one man – perhaps the humblest passenger aboard – survived the violent end of the White Ship: he was Berold, a butcher from Rouen who found a place aboard in order to pursue high-ranking debtors as they set off for England. The medieval butcher thus became eyewitness to one of history’s most terrible events.

The White Ship was a newly refitted vessel captained by Thomas FitzStephen, whose father Stephen FitzAirard had been captain of the ship Mora for William the Conqueror during the Norman conquest of England in 1066. 
Thomas offered his ship to Henry I of England to return to England from Barfleur in Normandy. Henry had already made other arrangements, but allowed many in his retinue to take the White Ship, including his heir, William Adelin, his illegitimate children Richard of Lincoln and Marie FitzRoy, Countess of Perche, and many other nobles.

According to chronicler Orderic Vitalis, the crew asked William
Adelin
for wine and he supplied it to them in great abundance. By the time the ship was ready to leave there were about 300 people on board, although some, including the future king Stephen of Blois, had disembarked due to the excessive drinking before the ship sailed.

The ship's captain, Thomas FitzStephen, was ordered by the revellers to overtake the king's ship, which had already sailed. The White Ship was fast, of the best construction and had recently been fitted with new materials, which made the captain and crew confident they could reach England first. Aboard were some 300 people including many members of the Anglo-Norman nobility, celebrating victory over the French after four years of war with copious amounts of wine. They were eager to race King Henry I, who had already departed on his own ship, back to Southampton.

White Ship was propelled by oarsmen rendered drunk by the inebriated passengers, who had plied the crew with huge quantities of wine. The ship left Barfleur at a fierce pace, a little before midnight on 25 November 1120. The sea was calm, the wind set fair, but the captain – another whose brain was addled by alcohol – dropped the mainsail too soon; before he was clear of the rocky coast. The helmsman, clearly confused by the rare speed of his vessel, and also drunk, miscalculated, and steered the White Ship into the great danger a mile out at sea: the Quillebœuf Rock. This giant, jagged, menace was hidden at high tide and now claimed its greatest victim.

The Quillebœuf staved in the White Ship’s wooden planks. Water started pouring in even faster after the crew tried to push the vessel clear again, with their long pikes. This simply opened up the gash in the ship’s side even more.

Those aboard began to cascade into the frozen water, gasping in shock at the cold. In an age when almost nobody could swim, and when the
sea was a mysterious place believed to be filled with terrifying creatures, the sound of panic rang out in the frigid air. 
The worst thing I can remember were the screams,’ Titanic survivor Eva Hart recalled of that famous sinking, 800 years after the White Ship’s fatal voyage. Hart noted that they were so awful as to be impossible to describe. It must have been the same for those witnessing the final cries of those who drowned in the water off Barfleur – the ghastly din of despair, from those being tugged at, with increasing insistence, by Death.

There was just one small lifeboat on the White Ship. The royal bodyguards commandeered it, and bundled William Ætheling aboard, intent on rowing the royal heir to safety. 

*But as they made for shore, the prince heard one shout that rang out above the others. It came from his half-sister, Margaret, Countess of Perche. She pleaded with her brother to turn back to save her, while
also insulting him for being so despicable as to leave her to drown.

The prince ordered his men to steer the lifeboat back to the stricken ship, to retrieve her. But this was a disastrous decision. Those struggling for life in the water threw their arms up over the sides of the small boat and tried to clamber aboard. There were so many, Berold would recall, that their weight took the lifeboat down, along with the prince. The butcher was found by fishermen the following morning, drifting on a piece of broken mast, just conscious and able to tell of what he had seen.

Nobody rushed to inform the king: Henry I was known to be utterly ruthless, and at the same time he famously adored his children.

William the Conqueror’s youngest son, Henry had risen from the relative obscurity of being a royal younger son, to becoming king of England and Duke of Normandy, as his father had once been. Henry had seized the English crown in August 1100, leaving his elder brother William Rufus to stiffen in death on the floor of the New Forest – the victim of a stray arrow on a hunting trip.

Meanwhile, six years later, he had attacked his eldest brother, Robert Curthose, at Tinchebray in Normandy. Curthose was defeated, captured and committed to prison in Cardiff Castle, where he remained for the remainder of his life, eventually writing poetry and learning Welsh.

Henry, meanwhile, had proved to be a force to be reckoned with. Insistent that the nation’s coins were his personal property, and that adulterating them equated to treason, he promised dire consequences for those minters who abused his confidence. Those found guilty of tampering with the coins’ quality were dealt with viciously: they were castrated, and their right hands were lopped off.

Eventually one of the king’s nephews persuaded a page boy to tell Henry I of the terrible news. Henry bellowed in disbelief, before falling to the floor, screaming. It is said he never smiled again, during the final fifteen years of his reign. Certainly, in the aftermath of the loss of the White Ship – and of the king’s dreams and aspirations – the court was plunged into gloom.

It was a period of such profound mourning that many in the royal orbit found time to reflect: on their own mortality, on their past conduct, and on their most profound beliefs.

The sinking altered the course of English history. Henry was the son of William the Conqueror, and after his death civil war broke out between his appointed successor, another daughter also named Matilda, and his nephew Stephen of Blois.

This conflict, “the Anarchy”, continued for 20 years until Matilda’s son took the throne in 1135 as Henry II.
Aspects of History/wiki