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Cnut, or Canute, now ruled all of England.
At first people didn’t really like him, well how can you like someone who can’t spell their own name, but then he married the widow of Ethelred and people liked
him a bit more.
Then Canute’s brother, who was King of Denmark died and Canute became King there too. Being a bright lad he decided that Viking raids on England from
there were stupid, he was King of both, and so people liked him even more as it became more peaceful.
Talking of stupid, there is a story that once Canute asked his nobles to watch him as he sat and controlled the waves, stopping the tide coming in.
Maybe it happened like this.
King Cnut closed his eyes against the sunrise. “Don't tell me there are no problems. There are always problems.”
The tide inched closer to the royal party. Standing at the edge of the beach, the men watched the waves rush forward to try and claim more and more
of the sand. The wind sought out exposed arms and necks, biting at the unprotected skin. None of the advisers wanted to be out in the early morning sun and yet
King Cnut had demanded the walk. The crown was still new on his head; he did not yet find it a nuisance to wear.
One of the advisers shielded his face from the salty wind. “There are some problems,” he said. “The Wessex family might fight you for your crown but
once they see your power they will kneel before you. And of course there are some raiders who do not recognise you as king but under your rule, we'll crush them.
There is nothing that can harm you, sir.”
“Fetch me a chair,” the King said.
The advisers shared a glance. “But, sir,” one of them said. “The camp is a mile behind us.”
“Fetch me a chair.”
As King Cnut stood looking out at the sea, his advisers argued for a second about who was going to walk back to the camp before the youngest was
sent scrambling across the field. Some of the braver men asked the King why he needed the chair, but the King didn't say a word. The only sound was the wind
whistling around them and the waves crashing against the shore. They were glad when the boy arrived, his puffy face sweating as he dragged the chair behind him.
“I am King, am I not?” King Cnut said and his advisers nodded. “And you think I can defeat the remaining Wessex pretenders without trouble.” The
men nodded. “And the raiders? I will crush them without even thinking about it?” Again, King Cnut's courtiers nodded vigorously. “You think I am the most powerful
man in the world? I cannot be stopped by anything?” The men all agreed, eager to compliment their new king.
King Cnut reached down, wrapping his fingers around the chair
next to him. Without another word, he plucked it from the ground and carried it down the sand. His advisers watched, whispering to each other as the King
placed his chair down on the beach and sat down.
Lifting his hands into air, King Cnut commanded back the waves. He told the water to flee. He yelled and shouted, demanding that the sea retreat.
The waves kept coming. The tide pushed up and claimed the sand around his feet, drenching his feet.
After ten minutes of yelling, the King's face red and sweating, he returned to his advisers. The chair remained on the beach. Water was rising up
over it. “You will notice,” King Cnut said, his voice low and angry. “How I could not stop the waves? How the sea did not listen to my demands? I am just a man.
I hold no power of nature. I do not control luck. It is your job to tell me when I might fall foul of either. It is your job to realise when I am wrong.”
Without another word, King Cnut headed back to camp.
Forward to 1020AD
