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Updated: June 29, 2025
"No, no," said Elfric, who saw at once what an impropriety this would be, "not yet; besides, my old father is here, and has kept a seat beside himself for me." "Well, goodbye for the present; I shall expect you after the feast. Elgiva will be glad to see you." Elfric returned to his father, but a feeling of sadness had taken possession of him, an apprehension of coming evil.
Elfric turned pale as if with great mental emotion, and tried to proceed in vain. "You are not well," said Elgiva, anxiously.
The doors opened, and an usher brought in a messenger who had only been allowed a moment to change a dusty dress, ere he broke into the presence of royalty. "Speak," said Edwy, as the messenger bowed before him, and kissed his hand. "My lord and king " and the messenger glanced at Elgiva. "Let him speak, Edwy, my lord. Are we not one? What you can bear, your wife must bear also."
The fair Elgiva and the gallant Harold had crossed the western waves in their hour of need. The fame of Edward the Confessor took such deep hold on the Irish mind that, three centuries after his death, his banner was unfurled and the royal leopards laid aside to facilitate the march of an English King, through the fastnesses of Leinster.
And Elgiva, the enchantress, the worker of wonders, was hailed as Rowena, the mother of Wynde, the subduer of princes; yea, even of Chylde Wynde, the beloved, and the lord of Agitha the Beautiful. Such was the tale of the Saxon bard.
Dunstan finding him in the company of his beautiful young wife ELGIVA, and her mother ETHELGIVA, a good and virtuous lady, not only grossly abused them, but dragged the young King back into the feasting-hall by force.
Bright and cheerful indeed was the fair Elgiva at this moment.
Elgiva departed early for Winchester, which, being farther removed from the frontier, was safer than London from any sudden excursion on the part of the Mercians, and the city was also devoted to the royal family.
They were gathered together they were buried in the cave of Elgiva. From her grave crawled an unclean beast, and it crawleth around it for ever. Ethelfrith died in battle. Woden shut his eyes and saw him not, and he fell.
How he fell in love with and married secretly his cousin Elgiva; how Saint Dunstan and his equally saintly though not regularly beatified ally, Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, indignant at a step taken against their fulminations and protests, and jealous of the fair queen, tore her from his arms, burnt with hot iron the bloom out of her cheeks, and finally put her to death with the most cruel tortures; and how her broken-hearted boy-lord, dethroned and hunted, died before reaching twenty, is a standing dish of the pathetic.
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