bishop with rude ecclesiastical pomp, the peasant in his rough jerkin--
all hastening to the approaching ceremony, which, as it had been
definitely fixed, was to take place at that royal city.

There Athelstane had been crowned with great pomp and splendour, for it
was peculiarly "_Cynges tun_" or the King's Town, and after the
coronation it was customary for the newly-crowned monarch to take formal
possession of his kingdom by standing on a great stone in the churchyard.

The previous night, Archbishop Odo had arrived from Canterbury, and his
bosom friend and brother, Dunstan, from Glastonbury, as also Cynesige,
Bishop of Lichfield, a man in every way like-minded with them; while
nearly all the other prelates, abbots, and nobles, arrived in the early
morn of the eventful day.

The solemn service of the coronation mass was about to commence, and the
people were assembling in the great church of St. Mary, filling every
inch of available room. Every figure was bent forward in earnest gaze,
and every heart seemed to beat more quickly, as the faint and distant
sound of deep solemn music, the monastic choirs chanting the
processional psalms, drew near.

Suddenly the jubilant strains filled the whole church, as the
white-robed train entered the sacred building while they sang:

"_Quoniam praevenisti eum in benedictionibus dulcedinis, posuisti in
capiti ejus coronam de lapide pretioso_." [xii]

Incense ascended in clouds to the lofty roof; torches were uplifted,
banners floated in the air, every eye was now strained to catch a