CRAIG BROWN: How King Alfred won Anglo-Saxon Bake-Off three times!

When I arranged to meet 50 close contacts of King Canute over a cappuccino in the highly discreet private members club Costa Coffee in exclusive Oxford Circus, I had no idea that I was about to uncover something that was dark and deeply undemocratic.

One highly-placed man, who, for legal reasons, I must allocate the code name Dr Fictitious, told me the real story about King Canute and the sea.

At major risk to my own life, I am prepared to tell it here for the very first time. The truth is deeply disturbing.

‘The tide wasn’t coming in at all,’ Dr Fictitious said, as I choked on my Flat White with extra chocolate scattered over the top and a small wafer biscuit which, for legal reasons, I shall call Bicky.

But why on earth would King Alfred burn cakes? It just doesn’t make sense. After all, he was a renowned baker, at the very top of his game. Pictured, the statue of King Alfred in Winchester

‘No, the tide was going out, and that was going to scupper all their dastardly plans. So they secretly arranged for this huge top-secret leaf-blower to be placed beneath the sea and turned up to full blast — and, by doing so, they sent the waves in King Canute’s direction and made him look a fool.

‘He left that beach sopping wet. It had been their express intention to make him look foolish and undermine his credibility. And these were all people he thought he could trust. Frankly, I had no idea men could be so disloyal.’

We all know the story. King Alfred burnt the cakes. Or so they would have us believe.

But why on earth would King Alfred burn cakes? It just doesn’t make sense. After all, he was a renowned baker, at the very top of his game.

He’d won the Great Anglo-Saxon Bake-Off three times in a row — though you won’t find that in the records, because the conspirators had made sure they’d been expunged.

What I discovered was there was a plot to discredit him, carefully constructed by a small group of men known as The Invention.

We all know the story. King Alfred burnt the cakes. Or so they would have us believe

‘They were so subtle, so organised, so strategic, it was almost as though they didn’t exist,’ said one of my most reliable sources, who, to protect his or her identity, I shall refer to only as Nadine. ‘They were really clever the way they did it. When King Alfred’s back was turned, they substituted a charred husk for his delicious Victoria Sponge.

‘Alfred got the blame, just as they had planned. And when Alfred set up his committee of inquiry, they made sure it was headed by one of their own men. He didn’t stand a chance.

‘Word soon got around that he’d burnt the cakes, and upset an old lady, and King Alfred’s career never got back on track.

‘The plotters had won. Alfred was out.’

King Harold II won the Battle of Hastings. No question about it.

That’s what I discovered when I started asking questions. Yes, the Bay-eux Tapestry depicts King Harold dead with an arrow stuck in his eye.

Yet more than 50 highly-placed expert sources close to King Harold assured me that no such event ever occurred.

Harold, they whispered to me, over a top-secret classic mocha with extra froth, always wore a pair of wrap-around shades into battle. These top designer shades would have prevented any arrow getting stuck in his eye.

In fact, Harold emerged victorious from that battle, with both eyes intact. So the man behind the Bayeux Tapestry had woven a tissue of lies.

Ask yourself this: why? Why would he do that?

The truth can now be told.

The sinister cabal behind the so-called Bayeux Tapestry had come into possession of top-secret info about sex orgies in the weaving factory that would quite literally blow the lid off the weaver’s private life.

So they gave that weaver no choice. Weave what we tell you — or face ruin in your tightly-knit community. I’m telling you, that Tapestry was a stitch-up.

It was Harold’s long-time opponent, William, a foreigner, who lost the Battle of Hastings.

But he was a master of spin and riven with ambition — so Harold had to fall.

The light was fading fast when my highly-placed source concluded his tale by handing me a Werther’s Original.

I asked him if it could get much worse. Yes, he said, it could.

More revelations on Thursday, if I’m still alive.

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