Britannia Does Not Rule the Waves: Cnut and the Sea
Cnut died in 1035, having reigned, as I mentioned at the beginning, longer almost than any English king up to this. But before we write his obituary, I know you’ve all been waiting for me to address the legend, story or parable so linked with him, though usually under the name Canute.
And here it is.
The story goes that Cnut, in an attempt to explain the limits of his powers, and that he, as all men, was helpless against nature and God, showed his courtiers that even he could not command the sea not to advance. The story is recounted in Henry Huntington’s twelfth century account:
When he was at the height of his ascendancy, he ordered his chair to be placed on the sea-shore as the tide was coming in. Then he said to the rising tide, "You are subject to me, as the land on which I am sitting is mine, and no one has resisted my overlordship with impunity. I command you, therefore, not to rise on to my land, nor to presume to wet the clothing or limbs of your master." But the sea came up as usual, and disrespectfully drenched the king's feet and shins. So jumping back, the king cried, "Let all the world know that the power of kings is empty and worthless, and there is no king worthy of the name save Him by whose will heaven, earth and the sea obey eternal laws."
Over time, this has been taken, erroneously (including, until I read this, by me) as a demonstration of the arrogance of the man, his faith in his own power and his belief that he was, as Monty Burns’ high-priced lawyers once pointed out, not as other men. But it makes more sense that it was a sort of parable to show his subjects that even a king had to bow to the majesty of God’s creation. After all, Cnut was, from what I’ve read, neither a vain nor a stupid man, and he certainly was not ignorant. Having no real need to prove his powers, it makes no sense that he should attempt this demonstration unless he was trying to teach a lesson, as it seems he was. There is no real agreement though as to whether this event took place, or whether it was either embellished, misreported or simply made up later.
Despite his promises, on his death Cnut’s son Harthacnut was not accepted by the English as his successor, mostly due to his spending most of his time ruling over Denmark, and his mother, Queen Emma, had to flee to safety in Flanders (well, hidely-ho, neighborino!) under pressure from Cnut’s other son, by his other wife, Harold Harefoot, who became the next king of England in 1037, having been regent for two years.
We'll certainly come back to him, and pick up the story of the last of the Wessex kings, but right now let's digress a little.
Death and Taxes
If there was one thing a king loved to do, or may not have loved to do but needed to, it was levy taxes. Whether this was to prosecute a war, for the upkeep of the armed forces, to help build or rebuild churches and abbeys, or to pay off debts, the king or queen was always the nation’s principle taxman. And people had to pay. Or riot. Usually they paid, as rioting was so tiresome, with the ever-present danger of imprisonment or death, and the pretty good chance that the protest would avail nothing anyway, except perhaps harsher taxes. What kind of taxes were there in Anglo-Saxon England? Well, there were certainly a few.
The first was not even called a tax, and comes from the time of King Aethelbert of Kent in the closing decades of the sixth century, wherein the king proclaimed that all fines from court cases were to be given to him. Then there was food render or food rent, in which a stipulated amount of foodstuffs was to be presented to the king by each hundred, or small village, but only if the king or his representatives visited. If not, then that hundred was exempt from food rent for the next year. What this meant, in effect, was that when and if the king turned up at any particular hundred, he could be assured of a good feed. It’s likely that the food part of the food rent was consumed by the king and his men during their visit, so really not what you’d call quite a tax, more like a catering-on-demand for the king, available wherever he chose to visit.
Possibly one of the first proper forms of taxation though was the Danegeld, which has been spoken of before. Basically this was a tax collected so that the marauding Vikings could be placated and bribed to fu
ck off and leave England alone, so to an extent it was a justifiable tax. Nevertheless, some might say it was the responsibility of the king and his nobles to make sure the enemy was bought off, and that the burden should not fall on the common man - perhaps some who said that might regret it as they looked up at the slavering Dane wielding a broadaxe over their shoulder and looming down on them, and think “I wish I had paid the bloody Danegeld!”
It’s a curious thing to me that fighting and battles could be decided not just by strength of arms, but by who was willing to pay for peace. I suppose it makes sense: money has always talked, and the Vikings after all were first and foremost raiders, and raiders want plunder. If they can be handed that rather than have to take it by force, sure why not? But what’s quite interesting is that this practice seems to have insinuated itself into the English consciousness and the English way of doing things, as more and more kingdoms at war with each other would buy each other off rather than fight to the death, or to a standstill. I guess the Viking ways really did take hold. I doubt Odin would have approved though.
It was probably Alfred the Great who really took taxation to a new level, when he had built the system of
burhs, or fortified towns and forts, referred to earlier in this chapter. In order to maintain these and keep them in a state of readiness, he imposed new taxes on his people, so many in fact that they all had to be recorded in a large volume which was called the
Burghal Hidage, maybe the world’s, certainly England’s first tariff of taxes. Edgar later ensured that all coinage was updated periodically, and the dies used were taxed too.
There was also another type of Danegeld called heregeld, which was paid directly to the king for the upkeep and payment of a standing army. Like most taxes, this was extremely unpopular, except I assume in times of war, when people were glad they had the soldiers there to protect them. As Anglo-Saxon England was replaced by Norman England in the middle of the eleventh century, the system of taxation would rise exponentially, as the now-conquered country would be subject to new and cruel taxes and levies forced upon it by its new masters.
The Naked Truth - Lady Godiva: Fact, Fantasy or Fiction?
Just about everyone knows the story of the famous, semi-legendary figure of Lady Godiva, who is said to have ridden naked through the streets of Coventry, and that’s about all we know about it. It certainly is all I knew about it, but as she lived in the time of Cnut - and as her ride is tied in with the idea of taxation - I thought it might be an idea to do a little research and see how true, if at all, this story is. After all, just because she was a real person doesn’t mean she actually did what she’s said to have done, does it? So let’s have a shufty at the legend, and the reality, and see what lies behind (sorry) the legend of what could be termed almost the first streaker in history.
Lady Godiva was the wife of Leofric, Earl of Mercia, with Eadric Stronea one of the two most powerful men under Cnut at the time. Her name may have been Godgifu or Godgyfu, though no Christian or forename seems to have survived. It seems she was a religious and indeed a generous woman, persuading her husband to donate to the Church with projects such as the endowment of a Benedictine abbey in Coventry and the granting of land in Worcester and Lincolnshire. She is one of the only female landowners to have retained her property after the Norman invasion, but when her death is placed between 1066 and 1086, that might not be such a big deal as it seems.
There are no dates for the legendary story, and it was first related three hundred years after her death, in the thirteenth century. Basically nobody believes it, but who knows? Anyway, the idea behind her ride is that she, seeing the suffering the people of Coventry were undergoing as her husband Leofric crushed them with tax after tax, and unable to appeal to him to be merciful and ease the burden, finally received from him a (we assume) laughing ultimatum. He would lift the taxes if she would agree to ride naked through the streets. To - presumably - his great surprise and possibly excitement, she agreed, on certain conditions, quite reasonable ones.
The streets must be deserted. Nobody could come out of their house or look from their windows or doors. There was, essentially, to be no witness, no peeping. This condition was strictly observed, but (according to the legend, and really to nobody’s surprise reading this) one man could not contain his curiosity or excitement and did look. He was - so the story goes - a tailor and for his disobedience and debauchery he was blinded, either by God or more likely by Leofric or the townsfolk, the latter probably just jealous they hadn’t had the balls to defy the lady. Interestingly, this legend is even less likely to be true, even if Godiva’s one is, as “Peeping Tom”, as he became known, an epithet now attached to any voyeur, is only mentioned from about the seventeenth century, four hundred years after the original story is first reported, so therefore must be a clever little embellishment. It might be there to try to give the story an air of authenticity. Who, after all, would believe that no man would look, risk the consequences? That there is one who is said to have done so makes this seem more plausible as a story, I think.
The tellings vary on how naked Lady Godiva was. The popular belief is that she was entirely naked, clothed only in her long flowing hair. This seems to me unlikely for several reasons. We have no record of the weather (always assuming this actually took place) and it may have been windy. If so, then her hair is unlikely to have stayed in place for the ride, which would have caused her to expose at least part of her more intimate charms. Also, the motion of the horse, even at a slow walk, must surely have disturbed any attempt to keep her hair in position. Finally, there’s the comfort angle. Leaving out the hair, riding a horse has never been a comfortable proposition, and riding in the buff would surely have been very painful. Is it likely Lady Godiva was ready to risk bruises and maybe welts on her thighs and buttocks just to prove a point? Was she really ready to suffer pain, in addition to humiliation, for her husband, on behalf of her people?
It seems to be more accepted that she wore some sort of close-fitting slip or shift, this mode of dress being linked with penitents at that time, and if she was basically representing a sort of submission to her husband in order to get what she wanted for the folk of Coventry, then that style might be more appropriate. In any event, trying to mount a horse naked (we must assume she got up on the horse herself, as everyone else had been commanded to remain indoors) would be difficult, painful and potentially dangerous. There are certain people who believe “Peeping Tom” may have been her groom, though I reckon that unlikely, but even if so, was she going to let a lowly groom touch her naked body as he helped her up?
There are many supposed symbolisations historians ascribe to Lady Godiva’s ride, but though I don’t personally believe it happened (wouldn’t it have turned up in stories earlier than the thirteenth century if it had, especially given that she was a noblewoman?) I see it more as the affirmation of the gentleness of women as opposed to the cruelty and brutality of men, the idea that the harsh male nature can be softened by the tempering touch of a kind and caring woman. Of course, it can also be seen as the ultimate power man has over woman (or vice versa), as Godiva gave Leofric what he wanted, and in that sense possibly linked right back to Herod and Salome in the Bible.
Though it is, as I say, likely just bollocks.
Not that, of course, she had those.