Young Folks History of England | Page 7

told. One is of his wanting to go to
church at Ely Abbey one cold Candlemas Day. Ely was on a hill in the
middle of a great marsh. The marsh was frozen over; not strong enough
to bear, and they all stood looking at it. Then out stepped a stout
countryman, who was so fat, that his nickname was The Pudding. "Are
you all afraid?" he said. "I will go over at once before the king." "Will
you," said the king, "then I will come after you, for whatever bears you
will bear me." Cnut was a little, slight man, and he got easily over, and

Pudding got a piece of land for his reward.
These servants of the king used to flatter him. They told him he was
lord of land and sea, and that every thing would obey him. "Let us try,"
said Cnut, who wished to show them how foolish and profane they
were; "bring out my chair to the sea-side." He was at Southampton at
the time, close to the sea, and the tide was coming in. "Now sea," he
said, as he sat down, "I am thy lord, dare not to come near, nor wet my
feet." Of course the waves rolled on, and splashed over him; and he
turned to his servants, and bade them never say words that took away
from the honor due to the only Lord of heaven and earth. He never put
on his crown again after this, but hung it up in Winchester Cathedral.
He was a thorough good king, and there was much grief when he died,
stranger though he was.
A great many Danes had made their homes in Yorkshire and
Lincolnshire, ever since Alfred's time, and some of their customs are
still left there, and some of their words. The worst of them was that
they were great drunkards, and the English learnt this bad custom of
them.

CHAPTER VI
.
THE NORMAN CONQUEST. A.D. 1035--1066.
Cnut left three sons; but one was content to be only King of Denmark,
and the other two died very soon. So a great English nobleman, called
Earl Godwin, set up as king, Edward, one of those sons of Ethelred the
Unready who had been sent away to Normandy. He was a very kind,
good, pious man, who loved to do good. He began the building of our
grand church at Westminster Abbey, and he was so holy that he was
called the Confessor, which is a word for good men not great enough to
be called saints. He was too good-natured, as you will say when you
hear that one day, when he was in bed, he saw a thief come cautiously
into his room, open the chest where his treasure was, and take out the
money- bags. Instead of calling anyone, or seizing the man, the king
only said, sleepily, "Take care, you rogue, or my chancellor will catch
you and give you a good whipping."
You can fancy that nobody much minded such a king as this, and so

there were many disturbances in his time. Some of them rose out of the
king--who had been brought up in Normandy--liking the Normans
better than the English. They really were much cleverer and more
sensible, for they had learnt a great deal in France, while the English
had forgotten much of what Alfred and his sons had taught them, and
all through the long, sad reign of Ethelred had been getting more dull,
and clumsy and rude. Moreover, they had learnt of the Danes to be sad
drunkards; but both they and the Danes thought the Norman French
fine gentlemen, and could not bear the sight of them.
Think, then, how angry they all were when it began to be said that King
Edward wanted to leave his kingdom of England to his mother's
Norman nephew, Duke William, because all his own near relations
were still little boys, not likely to be grown up by the time the old king
died. Many of the English wished for Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, a
brave, spirited man; but Edward sent him to Normandy, and there Duke
William made him swear an oath not to do anything to hinder the
kingdom from being given to Duke William.
Old King Edward died soon after, and Harold said at once that his
promise had been forced and cheated from him, so that he need not
keep it, and he was crowned King of England. This filled William with
anger. He called all his fighting Normans together, fitted out ships, and
sailed across the English Channel to Dover. The figure-head of his own
ship was a likeness of his second little boy, named William. He landed
at Pevensey, in Sussex, and set