Tales of chess games that have resulted seriously for at least one of the players appear elsewhere in mediæval literature; hence it would not be safe to accept this account without question. Still, there is nothing improbable about the tale; the insult that Ulf offered was evidently seized upon by the King as a pretext for ridding himself of a man whom he believed to be a traitor. An independent English tradition credits Canute with a passion for the game: the historian of Ramsey tells us that Bishop Ethelric once found him "relieving the wearisomeness of the long night with games of dice and chess."[317] Nor is there any reason to doubt that Ulf was actually assassinated at the time; his name disappears from the sources.
A life had been taken in God's own house; blood had been shed before the very altar; even though the King had ordered it, the Church could not overlook the crime. The priests immediately closed the church; but on the King's command, it was again opened and mass was said as before. It is recorded that large possessions were added to the church when services were resumed. To his sister the widowed Estrid, the King also owed satisfaction; we are told that she, too, received large landed estates. But her young son Sweyn, who was at this time scarcely more than eight years old, she prudently seems to have removed from her brother's kingdom; for twelve years the future King of Denmark was a guest at the Swedish court.[318]
It seems that the scene of his recent guilt had small attraction for Canute after that fateful Michaelmas season. He is said to have left the city and to have taken up his abode on his longship. But not many months later we find him on a pilgrimage to the capital of Christendom. The journey must have been planned during the autumn of 1026; it was actually undertaken during the early months of the following year; apparently the pilgrims arrived in Rome toward the end of March.
We cannot be sure what induced King Canute to make this journey at this particular time. In his message to the English people he says that he went to seek forgiveness for his sins; but this pious phrase is almost a rhetorical necessity in mediæval documents and must not be regarded too seriously. Nor can we trust the statement that the King had earlier vowed to make such a pilgrimage, but had hitherto been prevented by business of state; for the year 1027 had surely but little to offer in the way of leisure and peace. The motive must be sought in the political situation that had developed in the North in the year of the Holy River campaign, and in the strained relations that must have arisen between the King and the Church.
No doubt the eyes of the Christian world looked approvingly on the persistent efforts that Olaf of Norway, who was canonised four years later, was making to extirpate heathendom in the North. Especially must the English priesthood have looked with pride and pleasure on the vigorous growth of the Norse daughter Church. But here comes the Christian King of England with hostile forces to interfere in behalf of King Olaf's enemies. Canute probably protested that he would carry on the work; but it is clear that an absent monarch with wide imperial interests could scarcely hope to carry out successfully a policy that implied revolution both socially and religiously. His hand had also been raised against the Christian ruler of Sweden, which was yet a heathen land, against a prince in whom the Church doubtless reposed confidence and hope. Perhaps worst of all, Canute's hand was red with the blood of his sister's husband, his support at Holy River, whose life had been taken in violation of the right of sanctuary and sacred peace. The mediæval Church was a sensitive organism and offences of this sort were not easily atoned for. It was time to pray at Saint Peter's tomb. It is also likely that Canute hoped to gain certain political advantages from the journey: in a strife with the Northern powers it would be well to have the Emperor a passive if not an active ally; and this was the year of the imperial coronation.
Norse tradition remembers Canute's pilgrimage as that of a penitent: "he took staff and scrip, as did all the men who travelled with him, and journeyed southward to Rome; and the Emperor himself came out to meet him and he accompanied him all the way to the Roman city."[319] Sighvat the Scald, who was both Canute's and Olaf's friend, also mentions the pilgrim's staff in his reference to the royal pilgrimage.[320] Still, it is not to be thought that gold was overlooked in preparing for the journey: the saga adds that "King Canute had many horses with him laden with gold and silver," and that alms were distributed with a free hand.
The Encomiast, who saw the King in the monastery of Saint Bertin in the Flemish city of Saint-Omer, also gives us a picture, though one that is clearly exaggerated, of a penitent who is seeking forgiveness and reconciliation. With humble mien the royal pilgrim entered the holy precincts; his eyes cast down and streaming with tears, he implored the suffrages of the saints; beating his breast and heaving sighs, he passed from altar to altar, kissed the sacred stones, and left large gifts upon each, even upon the smallest. In addition alms were distributed among the needy.[321]
The route followed was the old one from Denmark south-westward along the German coast to Flanders, whence the journey went southward through Lorraine and the Rhone country. It seems to have been Canute's intention to visit King Rudolf of Burgundy on the way; but he was found to have departed on a similar journey to the Eternal City. The progress was one that was doubtless long remembered in the monasteries along the route. Important institutions at some distance from the chosen route seem also to have been remembered in a substantial way; it may have been on this occasion that a gift was sent to the monastic foundation at Chartres, of which we have grateful acknowledgment in the Epistles of Bishop Fulbert[322]; and another to the church at Cologne, a costly psalter and sacramentary which some time later found their way back to England.[323]
On Easter Day (March 26), King Canute assisted at the imperial coronation ceremony; on that day King Conrad and Queen Gisela received the imperial crowns in the Church of the Holy Apostles.[324] The assembly was large and splendid and the visiting sovereigns held places of conspicuous honour. When the Emperor at the close of the ceremony left the Church, Canute and Rudolf walked beside him. It was a day of great rejoicing among Conrad's German followers, ending, as was customary, with a fight between them and their Roman hosts.