England,in one part of this reign,was so troubled by wolves,which,driven out of the open country,hid themselves in the mountains of Wales when they were not attacking travellers and animals,that the tribute payable by the Welsh people was forgiven them,on condition of their producing,every year,three hundred wolves'heads.And the Welshmen were so sharp upon the wolves,to save their money,that in four years there was not a wolf left.
Then came the boy-king,EDWARD,called the Martyr,from the manner of his death.Elfrida had a son,named ETHELRED,for whom she claimed the throne;but Dunstan did not choose to favour him,and he made Edward king.The boy was hunting,one day,down in Dorsetshire,when he rode near to Corfe Castle,where Elfrida and Ethelred lived.Wishing to see them kindly,he rode away from his attendants and galloped to the castle gate,where he arrived at twilight,and blew his hunting-horn.'You are welcome,dear King,'said Elfrida,coming out,with her brightest smiles.'Pray you dismount and enter.''Not so,dear madam,'said the King.'My company will miss me,and fear that I have met with some harm.
Please you to give me a cup of wine,that I may drink here,in the saddle,to you and to my little brother,and so ride away with the good speed I have made in riding here.'Elfrida,going in to bring the wine,whispered an armed servant,one of her attendants,who stole out of the darkening gateway,and crept round behind the King's horse.As the King raised the cup to his lips,saying,'Health!'to the wicked woman who was smiling on him,and to his innocent brother whose hand she held in hers,and who was only ten years old,this armed man made a spring and stabbed him in the back.He dropped the cup and spurred his horse away;but,soon fainting with loss of blood,dropped from the saddle,and,in his fall,entangled one of his feet in the stirrup.The frightened horse dashed on;trailing his rider's curls upon the ground;dragging his smooth young face through ruts,and stones,and briers,and fallen leaves,and mud;until the hunters,tracking the animal's course by the King's blood,caught his bridle,and released the disfigured body.
Then came the sixth and last of the boy-kings,ETHELRED,whom Elfrida,when he cried out at the sight of his murdered brother riding away from the castle gate,unmercifully beat with a torch which she snatched from one of the attendants.The people so disliked this boy,on account of his cruel mother and the murder she had done to promote him,that Dunstan would not have had him for king,but would have made EDGITHA,the daughter of the dead King Edgar,and of the lady whom he stole out of the convent at Wilton,Queen of England,if she would have consented.But she knew the stories of the youthful kings too well,and would not be persuaded from the convent where she lived in peace;so,Dunstan put Ethelred on the throne,having no one else to put there,and gave him the nickname of THE UNREADY-knowing that he wanted resolution and firmness.
At first,Elfrida possessed great influence over the young King,but,as he grew older and came of age,her influence declined.The infamous woman,not having it in her power to do any more evil,then retired from court,and,according,to the fashion of the time,built churches and monasteries,to expiate her guilt.As if a church,with a steeple reaching to the very stars,would have been any sign of true repentance for the blood of the poor boy,whose murdered form was trailed at his horse's heels!As if she could have buried her wickedness beneath the senseless stones of the whole world,piled up one upon another,for the monks to live in!
About the ninth or tenth year of this reign,Dunstan died.He was growing old then,but was as stern and artful as ever.Two circumstances that happened in connexion with him,in this reign of Ethelred,made a great noise.Once,he was present at a meeting of the Church,when the question was discussed whether priests should have permission to marry;and,as he sat with his head hung down,apparently thinking about it,a voice seemed to come out of a crucifix in the room,and warn the meeting to be of his opinion.
This was some juggling of Dunstan's,and was probably his own voice disguised.But he played off a worse juggle than that,soon afterwards;for,another meeting being held on the same subject,and he and his supporters being seated on one side of a great room,and their opponents on the other,he rose and said,'To Christ himself,as judge,do I commit this cause!'Immediately on these words being spoken,the floor where the opposite party sat gave way,and some were killed and many wounded.You may be pretty sure that it had been weakened under Dunstan's direction,and that it fell at Dunstan's signal.HIS part of the floor did not go down.
No,no.He was too good a workman for that.
When he died,the monks settled that he was a Saint,and called him Saint Dunstan ever afterwards.They might just as well have settled that he was a coach-horse,and could just as easily have called him one.