Glastonbury being rebuilt, the Benedictine rule [xvii] was introduced, and Dunstan himself became abbot.  It was far the noblest and best monastic code of the day, being peculiarly adapted to prevent the cloister from becoming the abode of either idleness or profligacy.

But this was not done without much opposition; the secular priests—­as the married clergy and those who lived amongst their flocks (as English clergy do now) were called—­opposed the introduction of the Benedictine rule with all their might, and were always thorns in Dunstan’s side.

The unfortunate Edmund, after the sad event at Pucklechurch, on the feast of St. Augustine, was buried at Glastonbury by the abbot, and his two sons, Edwy and Edgar, were put under Dunstan’s especial care by the new king Edred.  The rest of the story is tolerably well known to our readers.

The first steps of Edwy’s reign were all taken with a view to one great end—­to revenge himself and to destroy Dunstan, who, aware of the royal enmity, and of his inability to restrain the sovereign, withdrew himself quietly to Glastonbury, and confined himself to the discharge of his duties as its abbot.

But this did not satisfy Edwy, who, panting for the ruin of the monk he hated, sought occasion for a quarrel, and soon found it.  Dunstan had been the royal almoner, and had had the disposal of large sums of money, for purposes connected with the Church, on which they had been strictly expended.  Now Edwy required a strict account of all these disbursements, which Dunstan refused to give, saying it had already been given to Edred, and that no person had any right to investigate the charities of the departed king.

His stout resistance gained the day in the first instance, but Edwy never felt at rest while Dunstan lived at peace in the land, and Ethelgiva and her fair daughter were ever inciting him to fresh acts of hostility, little as he needed such incitement.

The first measures were of a very dishonourable kind.  Evil reports were spread abroad to destroy the character of the great abbot, and prepare people’s minds for his disgrace:  then disaffection was stirred up amongst the secular clergy surrounding Glastonbury—­a very easy thing; and attempts were made in vain to create a faction against him in his own abbey; then at last the neighbouring thanes, many of Danish extraction and scarcely Christian, were stirred up to invade the territory of the abbey, and were promised immunity and secure possession of their plunder.  They liked the pleasant excitement of galloping over Dunstan’s ecclesiastical patrimony, of plundering the farms and driving away the cattle, and there was scarcely a night in which some fresh outrage was not committed.  At this point the action of our tale recommences.

It will be remembered that the father of Ella had found relief from his grief, after the death of his unhappy son Oswald, in building and endowing the monastery of St. Wilfred, situate on the river’s bank, at a short distance from the hall.