DUNSTAN'S INSULT TO KING EDWY.—a.d. 955.

At a grand banquet, the King preferred the company of his wife to the noisy orgies of his Saxon guests; and Dunstan feeling offended at Edwy's absence, went in search of him. He entreated the King to return to the feast, but Edwy wished to remain with Elgiva. This reply incensed the Abbot, who, finding his solicitations disregarded, grossly insulted the lady, pulled the King from his seat, forced the diadem on his head, and dragged him to the riotous hall.

After the feast was ended, Edwy deposed Dunstan from his honours, and banished him from the kingdom: so fierce, indeed, was his anger, that he despatched messengers to deprive the disgraced Abbot of his sight, but the ship conveying him to Flanders had already sailed.

Dunstan had many powerful friends among the dominant clergy of the period, and the Archbishop of Canterbury avenged his friend by divorcing the King and Elgiva, the latter of whom was seized by the prelate's orders and transported to Ireland, where her face was branded with hot irons.

Nature, however, healed her wounds, and she returned to Gloucester, in all the radiance of her pristine beauty. She again fell into the hands of the ruthless churchman, who caused the nerves and muscles of her legs to be divided. After lingering in the greatest agony, death at length came to her relief.

EDGAR THE PEACEABLE.-A.D. 959.

ALTHOUGH Edgar had evinced a criminal impatience to ascend the throne (for which his extreme youth is the only excuse), he filled it with great honour to himself, and advantage to his subjects. He was surnamed the Peaceable, and was called The Honour and Delight of the English Nation. He was always so well prepared, that neither did his own subjects dare to revolt, nor foreign nations to make war against his authority. When Athelstan over-ran Wales, he restored their lands to the owners upon the payment of a tax, which was to be made in sheep and cattle. Now Edgar changed the form of this tax, and instead of pasturage animals, he required the Welsh to bring him three hundred wolves' heads annually. This caused such a keen pursuit of these voracious animals, that in a few years they disappeared from the island. He improved the laws, and was most sedulous in searching out and punishing thieves and outlaws. He died A.D. 975, after a reign of seventeen years.

SAXON WINDOW, FROM

BRINXWORTH PRIORY.

EDGAR AND THE EIGHT KINGS.-A.D. 973.

This King is known in history as "The Peaceable." On one occasion eight Kings came to Chester to do homage to him, as their superior lord; and when Edgar had stepped into his barge, which was prepared

on the river Dee, and had seated himself at the helm, the vassal Kings taking the oars rowed him to the church of St. John the Baptist. The prelates and thanes followed in the wake of the royal barge, while the banks were crowded with spectators. On his return, Edgar is said to have exclaimed: "My successors may think themselves Kings, when they can command the services of a like number of regal vassals."

EDGAR AND ELFRIDA.

After the death of his first wife, Edgar heard much praise of the beauty of the Lady Elfrida. In order to ascertain the truth of these reports, he sent the Earl Ethelwold to see her. Ethelwold, enamoured at first sight, forgot his duty, wooed and married the lady. On his return, he informed his master, that "although Elfrida might grace the house of a subject, she did not become the splendour of a throne."

But Edgar suspected the truth, and determined to visit the newly wedded pair. Ethelwold, with tears in his eyes, now told his wife of his own treachery, and implored her to hide his guilt from the King.

But Elfrida, incensed at being thus cheated out of her queenly dignity, received the King in her gayest attire, and at once won his affections. Edgar retired, but shortly afterwards as he was hunting, ran his spear through the body of Ethelwold, and married the widow.

EDWARD THE MARTYR.-A.D. 975.

He was the eldest son of Edgar. His step-mother, Elfrida, opposed his coronation, in favour of her other step-son, Ethelred; but the bustling prelate, Dunstan, espoused the cause of the rightful heir. Edward did not resent his mother's unkind treatment, but was frequently in the habit of visiting her. It was on the occasion of one of these visits, that he was cruelly murdered while drinking a cup of wine at the gate of Corfe Castle, A.D. 978.

MURDER OF KING EDWARD.-A.D. 978.

Elfrida had two sons-in-law, Edward and Ethelred. She entertained an unnatural hatred of the elder, and determined to murder him. As he was hunting near Wareham, he came near the castle of his motherin-law, and rode up to the gate to pay his dutiful respects to her. She went out, and received him with apparent affection, and invited him to partake of her hospitality. This, however, he declined, when his mother offered him a goblet of wine. While raising it to his lips, a wretch having stolen to the rear, stabbed him between the shoulders. Feeling the wound, he spurred his horse, but becoming exhausted from loss of blood, he fell from his seat, his feet were entangled in the stirrups, and the frightened steed dragged his rider over the rugged way. His attendants traced him by his blood, and at length found his disfigured

corpse.

ETHELRED II., THE UNREADY.-A.D. 978.

In the year 981, the Danes landed and plundered Southampton.

Their descents after that success, became more frequent and formidable, and in 991, Ethelred consented to pay them £10,000 to depart. This cowardly conduct only induced further ravages; and in 993, Sweyn, King of Denmark, came hither in person. On this occasion, Ethelred paid £16,000. A third time they landed, and once more the English King bribed them with no less than £24,000. He raised this money by a tax on land, which is the first instance of a land-tax in England. It was called Dane-gelt. In the year 1002, Ethelred appears to have thought of strengthening himself by a foreign alliance, and married Emma, sister of the Duke of Normandy. This union, would, perhaps, have produced salutary consequences, had not the Unready resolved upon a measure tending to the worst results. This was no other than a general massacre of the Danes, which took place November 13th, A.D. 1012. Sweyn's own sister and her children fell in this most cruel time of murder, and the Danish King was so enraged, that he came in person and inflicted the greatest distress and misery on the unhappy English. Ethelred fled into Normandy. Sweyn marched to London, and was proclaimed King; but dying in 1014, Ethelred returned to his native land, where he soon after died.

CONQUEST OF ENGLAND BY THE DANES.

AT this time there were two acknowledged Kings in England, Edmund Ironside, son of Ethelred, and Canute, son of Sweyn: the former being a warlike Prince, prepared to assert the superiority of his claims. A fearful battle was fought in Dorsetshire, in which, although the English were defeated, the Danes were much weakened. At length a treaty was entered into for a division of the kingdom between the rivals, but Edmund having been soon after treacherously murdered at Oxford, Canute became sole King of England.

EDMUND IRONSIDE.

AFTER the death of Sweyn, Canute was proclaimed by his soldiers, but was soon compelled to seek refuge in Denmark from the assaults of the brave Edmund Ironside, who had succeeded his father Ethelred, Canute invaded the country again in 1016, and Edmund met him at Scearstan. On the second day of the conflict, Edmund, fighting like a common soldier, forced his way to the Danish commander, and struck at him with his sword. Canute raised his shield to avert the blow, which was delivered with such hearty

good-will, that it divided the shield, and cut the neck of the horse beneath it. Edmund, being overpowered by numbers, retired; but in the meantime, a Danish captain having struck off the head of one Osmear, who resembled the King, cried aloud: "Fly, ye men of Dorset and Devon! Fly, and save yourselves. Here is your Edmund's head." A panic immediately ensued, which Edmund observing as he was retiring from his combat with Canute, threw off his head-piece, and endeavoured to convince his warriors that he still lived; but it was too late, the battle was lost. It was, however, a fruitless victory; for Canute was so weakened by the contest that he retired to his ships.

Edmund's death occurring soon afterwards, Canute reigned sole Sovereign of England.

ALTHOUGH a stranger and a foreigner, there are few of our ancient Kings over whose reign the historian loves to linger more than that of Canute, son of Sweyn, who was acknowledged A.D. 1017.

His first care was to modify the national hatred that existed between his own immediate followers and the natives of the island, and so bring about a reconciliation between those who had so long been rivals. Edric having vauntingly confessed the murder of Edmund, Canute caused him to be put to death as a self-convicted assassin. Still further to secure the affections of his new subjects, Canute married Emma, the widow of Ethelred These prudent measures so firmly established his power that the King, in 1019, was enabled to pass into Denmark with a body of native troops under Earl Godwin, who attacked the Swedes, and totally defeated them. After a year's absence, Canute returned to England, and spent some time in making good laws, building churches and monasteries, and re-establishing the ruined universities, which, in 1009 and 1010 had been razed to the ground by the Danes.

In 1027, he subdued the kingdom of Norway, and assumed the title of King of England, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. In 1031, all was so tranquil that he was enabled to make a pilgrimage to Rome,

where he obtained, in return for many valuable gifts, a plenary pardon of his sins. After a short war against Malcolm of Scotland, Canute reigned in peace until his death, which occurred A.D. 1035.

CANUTE THE GREAT TRYING AND SENTENCING HIMSELF.

Having, in a moment of passion, slain a soldier, Canute thereby violated a law which he enforced upon others. Knowing that he had committed the crime, he assembled his troops, came down from his throne, arraigned himself for its committal, expressed his repentance, and demanded punishment. He told his judges that, whatever sentence they passed upon him, he would hold them harmless; and in the sight of all, cast himself on the earth to await their decision. A flood of tears at his greatness of soul burst from the spectators. The judges withdrew to deliberate, and at last determined that Canute shouid appoint and inflict his own punishment. Murder was at the time punished by a pecuniary fine. The King fined himself three hundred and sixty talents, and added nine talents more as further compensation.

CANUTE AND THE SEA.

The Danish Kings always kept in their pay a number of poets, who in pompous verse recited the deeds and virtues of their employers. At such times it is not impossible that Canute, like Alexander the Great, fancied himself more than mortal, and that his courtiers flattered and encouraged him in this opinion. But in his sober moments it is certain he despised such flattery, and resolving to express his sentiments by a practical illustration, he ordered the chair of his dignity to be placed on the sea-beach. The courtiers flocked about him while the waves were undulating to the shore, and then, seating himself, he exclaimed, "Ocean, the island on which I sit is mine, and thou art a part of my dominions. None of my subjects dare to resist my orders; I therefore command thee that thou ascend not my coasts, nor presume to wet the border of my robe."

In vain the mandate issued. He was not the master whom the waters obeyed; and as if in contempt of his authority, every wave drew nearer his feet, until his legs were covered with water. Then did he express the noble sentiment which had induced the incident, "Let every dweller on the earth confess that the power of Kings is frivolous and vain. HE only is the God supreme, let HIM only be honoured with the name of Majesty,' whose nod, whose everlasting laws, the heavens, the earth, the sea, with all their hosts obey." In conformity with this sublime feeling Canute never afterwards wore his crown.

CANUTE AND THE POET.

Thorarin was remarkable for the richness of his verses and his celerity of composition. He made a short poem on Canute, and went into his presence to recite it. On approaching the throne he made an obeisance, and requested permission to repeat his composition. The King was at table at the close of a repast, and a crowd of petitioners were occupying