n from further
aggressions. Twenty-five years later the decision of war was reversed.
Offa, the great and fierce king of Mercia, defeated Cynewulf of
Wessex, at Bensington, and spoiled the land, destroying the convent of
St. Helena, founded by Cilla, and grievously robbing and oppressing
Abingdon.

But the most awful calamity it ever underwent was its destruction in
the first great Danish invasion, in the early days of King Alfred,
when it was literally levelled with the ground, only, however, to
arise in greater magnificence when the storm had passed away.

However the period of anarchy had introduced evils which required a
stern reformer, and one was found in the person of the abbot
Ethelwold, the friend of St. Dunstan, who, in conjunction with him and
Oswald, introduced the rule of St. Benedict into Abingdon,
Glastonbury, Ely, and other great houses, which, by its absolute
prohibition of monastic idleness, and its wise regulations, caused the
religious houses of that period to become the central points of
civilisation and learning in the land.

Here, at this famous monastery, we resume Father Cuthbert's Diary.

In festo St. Edmundi.

Again I resume my diary, at the great monastic house of Abingdon,
where I have rejoined my brethren. I have already told how, in company
with Elfwyn, Father Adhelm and I sought the forest farm where our
beloved ones had found refuge from the cruel oppressor. The joy of the
women and children to whom their husbands and fathers were thus
restored was very touching; all seemed willing to forget the
destruction of their homes, since they had been spared to each other,
and I, to whom, by my vows, such love is unknown, yet could but feel
how holy a thing is family affection.

Alas, there was one family where the bitterness of death had found its
way. I cannot describe the touching scene when Elfwyn told the fate of
dear Bertric. Well, they will learn by and by to thank God for him and
his example, for we doubt not he died a martyr, although we know not
the details, and, unless Alfgar yet lives, shall perhaps never know
them.

We held a long consultation upon our future movements. It was wisely
decided not to rebuild Aescendune at present, for the place where they
now are can be rendered very commodious, and is far more secure
against a foe. We do not dare to hope that we have seen the last of
our troubles; the Danes are wintering in the Wight, ready for fresh
mischief next spring and