Henry the First's Christmas festival at Windsor, in 1126, was a memorable one. In that year Henry's daughter Matilda became a widow by the death of her husband, Henry V. of Germany, and King Henry determined to appoint her his successor to the throne of England and the Dukedom of Normandy. On Christmas Day, 1126, a general assembly of the nobles and higher ecclesiastics of the kingdom was held at Windsor for the purpose of declaring the Empress Matilda (as she was still called) the legitimate successor of Henry I., and the clergy and Norman barons of both countries swore allegiance to her in the event of the king's death. This appointment of Matilda was made by Henry in consequence of the calamity which occurred just before Christmas, in 1120, when he lost his much-loved son, Prince William--the only male legitimate issue of Henry--through the wreck of _La Blanche Nef_ (the White Ship). On board the vessel were Prince William, his half-brother Richard, and Henry's natural daughter the Countess of Perche, as well as about a hundred and forty young noblemen of the most distinguished families in England and Normandy, all of whom were lost in their passage home, only a few hours after the safe arrival of the king in England. Henry is said to have swooned at the intelligence, and was never afterwards seen to smile. He had returned home anticipating a joyous Christmas festival, a season of glad tidings, but he was closely followed by this sad news of the death of the heir apparent. The incident has called forth one of the most beautiful poems of Mrs. Hemans, from which we quote two verses:-- "The bark that held a prince went down, The sweeping waves rolled 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 to those who mourn? He never smiled again! * * * * * He sat where festal bowls went round, He heard the minstrel sing; He saw the tourney's victor crowned, Amidst the kingly ring; A murmur of the restless deep Was blent with every strain, A voice of winds that would not sleep,-- He never smiled again!"