Baring-Gould’s sources: There are three saints of this name, Elfleda of Whitby, Feb. 8; Elfleda the daughter of Edward the Elder, Oct 29; and Elfleda the Widow, of Glastonbury, given by Alford in his Index of English Saints on April 13, but in the “British Martyrology ” on April 14; but the Auctuarium of the Martyrology of Usuardus, belonging formerly to the Church of Winchester, inserts, “ S. Elfleda, Queen,” on Oct 23. Authorities: — The Lives of S. Duns tan, both that which is anonymous and that by Osbem.] Elfleda was a wealthy matron, with royal blood flowing in her veins, who, on the death of her husband, retired to Glastonbury, where she established herself to the east of the great abbey church. Dunstan was then a boy in the Glastonbury school, and the lady was kind to him, and, as he was needy, gave him food and other little presents such as schoolboys are pleased in all ages to receive. King Athelstan came to Glastonbury when Dunstan was fifteen or sixteen years old, and was entertained by his kinswoman, Elfleda. The day before the king’s arrival, his household officers visited the widow to ascertain whether she had cups and plates enough for the entertainment of so large a party as would come with Athelstan. “ You have apparently enough vessels/' said they on looking over her preparations, “but there is a deficiency of mead.” She replied with dignity, “ My patron, the Virgin Mother, will send me abundance of ale.” Then, retiring to the ancient oratory of S. Mary, she prayed for beer with all her powers. Next day, the king arrived, and after mattins and mass with jocund temper he went to the widow’s for breakfast. Her little beer barrel contained apparently only enough to fill his horn drinking-cups1 once round; but marvellously 1 “ Cornibus scissis aliisque indiscretae quantitatis vasibus," &c S. Elfleda. 581 did it fall out that the barrel continued to run, and supplied the king and his men with as much beer as they wanted to drink — and Anglo-Saxons drank hard. After a while, King Athelstan said, “We really have been hard on my niece; we must have drunk her out of house and home. It is time to be moving.” And, having saluted his kinswoman, he departed.

Dunstan spent much of his time with the old lady, whom he regarded as his mother, and when she was ill he was away from her as little as possible. One evening he stayed beyond his time at her house, and when he reached the church was too late for vespers. He was beginning to repeat the proper psalms outside the door, when he saw a dove, white as snow, flying from the abbey towards the widow's house: its pure wings kindled by the evening sun seemed transmuted to gold, and flashed a bright reflection on his face as it passed. When he had done his office, he ran back to Elfleda's, and coming into her chamber, heard her from behind her bed-curtains, closely drawn round the old woman to keep off the draught, talking with some one. He asked the nurses in the room whom she was conversing with, and they said they could not tell. He therefore concluded that she was in familiar communication with angels. When he suggested this, “Ah!” said a nurse, “before you came, there was a sort of light shining from behind the bedcurtains.” As soon as the conversation ceased, Dunstan felt at liberty to put his head through the curtains, and ask Elfleda with whom she had been talking. “ Why do you ask?” she said. “Surely with him whom you saw flying this way, whilst you were standing outside the church.” It is easy to see how the fact of the old woman entertaining herself when dying, with a pet pigeon, resolved itself into a marvel.

She then gave him instructions about her body being vol. xii. 15 washed and laid out after her death, and having received next morning the last sacraments, she fell asleep in the Lord.