delightful _Wykehamica_. But more striking than the past, the noble
traditions nobly preserved is the vitality in the present. ‘Sainte Marie
College’ has always known how to adapt herself successfully, as age
succeeded age, to the requirements of the day, and has paid the truest
respect to the Founder’s wishes in never allowing herself to grow old.
There is no frost, mingled with the kindliness of age, in Winchester
College.

CHAPTER XVIII

WOLVESEY--ST. CROSS--THE CASTLE HALL--THE ROUND TABLE

    And for great Arthur’s seat ould Winchester preferres,
    Whose ould Round Table yet she vaunteth to be hers.
                 DRAYTON’S _Polyolbion_.

From College one turns naturally to Wolvesey--Wolvesey with its
wonderful grey stone walls, its memories of Saxon and Norman,
Plantagenet and Stuart times. Here Alfred kept his Court, with all the
learned men of his time around him; here the _English Chronicle_ was
first compiled; and here, above that very Wolvesey wall, it may be, the
Danish pirates captured in the Solent were hanged--as has been already
related--in retributive justice. But the big blocks of ruin in Wolvesey
Mead are of later date; they recall to us the career of that notable
figure among the Bishops of Winchester, Henry of Blois, King Stephen’s
brother, bishop from 1129 to 1171--the masterful man, devoted churchman,
and scheming politician, whose story has been somewhat fully related in
Chapter VIII. To strengthen himself he fortified

[Illustration: CHURCH OF ST. LAWRENCE, WINCHESTER

     A small but extremely interesting parish church in ‘The Square,’ of
     which practically all the exterior, save the Western Doorway and
     the Tower, is hidden from sight by the houses and shops hemming it
     in on all sides. Every Bishop of Winchester on being installed
     proceeds in solemn procession from the Cathedral to St. Lawrence
     Church to ring the bell--a picturesque survival of feudal days.
     ‘The Square’ marks the site of a palace built for his own
     occupation by William the Conqueror.
]

his dwelling at Wolvesey with an ‘adulterine’ castle--for he built here
without royal warrant, as he built his castles elsewhere at Bishop’s
Waltham and at Hursley,--and he sided alternately with Stephen and
Empress Matilda in the civil war, as circumstances dictated. And so it
befell that Winchester itself became divided into rival camps; Matilda’s
forces held the Royal Castle and the Bishop held Wolvesey, and, here
within his defences, now in ruins, the Bishop stood the siege valiantly.
Ultimately peace was made, and Winchester saw Prince Henry make joyful
entry into her ruined streets and ratify the compact. His later years
were passed in works of peace and beneficence, and for these he will
always be most gratefully remembered.

He built the Hospital of St. Cross, a permanent refuge for thirteen poor
brethren, and a house of daily entertainment for the poor and needy
outside its walls. He placed his foundation of St. Cross under the
protection of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, an Order specially
devoted to guarding the welfare of pilgrims and wayfarers. And so the
Brethren of St. Cross still wear to-day the eight-pointed cross of the
Order and the black gown which distinguished the Knights Hospitallers,
and the wayfarer’s dole of bread and beer may still be asked for and
obtained at its hospitable gates. Advancement, personal power, and
political ascendancy, all these Bishop Henry desired for himself, strove
for, won and lost in turn. St. Cross retains its vitality still,--such
is the perennial virtue of unselfish kindliness and beneficence.

Though its fortifications were dismantled, Wolvesey remained the
residence of the Bishops of Winchester for many centuries after Henry de
Blois. Here, on March 28, 1394, in the presence chamber of Wolvesey,
William of Wykeham received the warden, John Morys, and the seventy
scholars of his _Newe College of St. Marie_, and gave them his blessing
as they set out in solemn procession to enter into occupation of their
newly erected premises. In the Civil War, after Cromwell’s capture of
the city, the old Bishop’s Castle was finally dismantled.

Present-day Wolvesey Palace stands on your left as you enter from
College Street with the Norman ruins and the old Tilt yard in front of
it and on your right. Bishop Morley, the friend of Ken and Izaak Walton,
erected it. But Wolvesey and Farnham together proved too heavy an
episcopal burden, and later bishops have preferred to reside at Farnham.
So Wolvesey ceased to be the Bishop of Winchester’s official residence,
and the greater part of Morley’s building was pulled down by Bishop
North at the end of the eighteenth century. The growing need for the
division of the diocese makes it quite possible, however, that the
Bishops of Winchester may again be residing in Wolvesey Palace, as their
predecessors did for so many hundreds of years.

Wykeham’s College, ‘the Newe Saint Marie College of Wynchester,’ is but
a stone’s-throw from Wolvesey. The story of the College has been fully
dealt with in a former chapter, and so, now, as we pass along College

Street from Wolvesey, our thoughts may well turn to a house on the left
adjoining College, with memories of a different kind, those of Jane
Austen. A tablet over the door recalls the fact of Jane Austen’s death
within its walls in 1817. She had removed here from her home at Chawton,
near Alton, in hope of recovery under the medical treatment which
Winchester could afford her. But the hope was vain. She lies buried in
the north aisle of the Cathedral nave. We know her now as among the
rarest and most charming of women novelists. Of her we shall speak again
in the chapter on ‘Winchester in Literature.’

Some half mile or so south of College, beyond New Meads and the meadows
by the river--those meadows from which the tower and pinnacles of
College Chapel form so poetic a picture as they mingle with the trees
around, and the Cathedral behind--lies St. Cross, a foundation which has
undergone many vicissitudes and been at various times “much abused”
(_see pp._ 188, 189), but which has happily now for many years past been
rescued from the spoiler and restored to the full exercise of generous
beneficence. Of its foundation by Henry of Blois we have already spoken,
but in its associations another historic name figures, of equal
prominence with Bishop Henry’s--that of Beaufort, Bishop and Cardinal in
Henry VI.’s reign. Beaufort was a second founder, and the domestic
buildings and the fine gateway are his work. Along with the Brethren
with black gown and silver cross will be seen some wearing a mulberry
gown, with the Beaufort Rose as emblem; these are Brethren of the order
Beaufort founded--the Order of Noble Poverty. St. Cross is not a place
to describe at all in words; its traditions, its characteristic customs,
its general atmosphere belong to it and to it alone; to appreciate it it
must be felt. Peaceful and dignified, with the clear transparent waters
of Itchen flowing quietly by at its feet, there is no place in
Winchester, or indeed anywhere else, where the sense of hallowed charm,
of serenity, of contentment, and of rest seems quite so natural and so
pervading as here.

Wherever else we turn in Winchester we find some treasure or other over
which to linger. On the high ground forming the south-west angle of the
city there is the County Hall, last surviving relic of the great royal
castle, which William of Normandy first erected and which his successors
added to. For some six hundred years that great keep, with its heavy
battlements and frowning bastions, scowled down upon the city and
overawed its burghers. Yet, grim and all but impregnable as those ‘rude
ribs’ might seem to be, more than one assailant found means to penetrate
within. Here, in 1140, Matilda the Empress, besieged by Stephen’s Queen,
was forced by hunger to abandon resistance, and to seek safety by
stealth and stratagem in a hasty and disastrous flight--her power of
effective resistance broken finally and for ever. Here, in 1645, flushed
with victory from Naseby field, came Cromwell, and, after nine days of
hot cannonade, compelled the surrender of the citadel--a surrender which
he followed up by ordering the castle to be ‘slighted,’ _i.e._ razed to
the ground.

The present Castle Hall was erected by a Winchester monarch--Henry III.,
Henry of Winchester. Here again the sense of the historic past swells
and surges round you. It is almost a revelation in history to walk round
it and follow out in detail the memories of those whose history is
personally connected with it, their names and arms all emblazoned in the
stained glass which fills the lights on either side. Local feeling has
been just recently somewhat deeply stirred by the removal within the
Hall of Gilbert’s well-known bronze statue of Queen Victoria, formerly
placed in the Abbey grounds--a removal which has evoked a very
unfortunate controversy, and as to the wisdom of which considerable
cleavage of opinion exists. But whatever view be taken of this, as to
the impressiveness of the great Hall, within and without, or the story
it has to tell, no two opinions can be held. The grand interior with its
splendid columns speaks of great assemblies within its walls; of
Parliaments such as the one held here as early as 1265, within a year of
the death of the great De Montfort, the ‘inventor,’ so to speak, of the
representative assembly; of State ceremonial displays such as when Henry
V. received the French ambassadors here, a few days only before the
Agincourt expedition sailed--as when Henry VII. celebrated the birth of
his first-born, Arthur of Winchester, Prince of Wales, and as when Henry
VIII. received and fêted the great Emperor Charles V., the

Charlemagne of his day; of State Trials such as that which unjustly
condemned Sir Walter Raleigh; of the Bloody Assize and the horror of the
judicial murder of Dame Alicia Lisle; while the most characteristic
touch perhaps of all is given by the quaint relic hanging on the western
wall, the so-called King Arthur’s Round Table. A curious relic indeed
this latter, and an ancient one, possibly 700 years old. We shall hardly
accept it, as Henry VIII. and his royal Spanish guest did, as the actual
table at which King Arthur and his knights used to seat themselves, even
though we may read their names--Sir Launcelot, Sir Galahallt, Sir
Bedivere, Sir Kay--inscribed upon its margin. Rather does it recall to
us those quaintly attractive, uncritical mediaeval days, when historical
perspective was unknown, that glorious age when “Once upon a time”
almost satisfied the yearnings of the historical instinct. Yet one may
question whether we are really better off, because for us King Arthur’s
Round Table has no existence and Arthur himself is lost in the strange
background of

    Moving faces and of waving hands,

that weird labyrinth where history and legend, myth and romance, are so
strangely and inextricably interwoven; and one turns away baffled and
reluctant from many and many an old-world story, and many and many an
old-world relic such as this, with the sense of something like a lost
inheritance.

    So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

There is, however, little real excuse for these unavailing regrets in
Winchester, for she above all places has store of real history--and such
history, too--enough and to spare.

Here, for instance, in the West Gate adjoining the Castle Hall, and in
the Obelisk just beyond the circuit of the old walls, this vividness of
history meets us again. Formerly the West Gate was a blockhouse as much
as a gate. You can still see where the portcullis worked up and down,
and look down from the battlements of the roof through the machicolated
openings which enabled defenders to meet assailants with molten lead and
kindred compliments. Later on it was a prison. On the walls of the
splendid old chamber above the gateway we can see elaborate designs
carved out by one poor prisoner after another, to while away the tedium
and to help him to forget the miseries of his imprisonment. Now the West
Gate is a museum with a collection of rare local interest: early weights
and measures of the days when Winchester could still impose its
standards upon others, weapons and armour, the gibbet of the
executioner, and the axe of the headsman. But strong for defence as the
West Gate and city wall were, the Obelisk beyond recalls to us one foe
whom no bar could exclude, no bolt restrain; for though in 1666
Winchester was straitly shut up like Jericho of old, and none went out
and none came in, that grim and relentless assailant, the Plague, passed
all barriers unchallenged, and Winchester became as a city of the dead.
Then--for none dared approach--the country people held their market
without and chaffered for their wares at safe distance with the men upon
the wall, and the Obelisk, erected in 1759, serves to commemorate the
spot where marketing was done for Winchester citizens under such tragic
conditions. Happily, plague has disappeared from our midst for some 250
years. In mediaeval days, right on indeed from 1348, the year of the
Black Death, plague was all too common a visitant. The sister societies
of Natives and Aliens still survive in Winchester, to carry on the work
of relieving widows and orphans, first begun when plague laid its hand
so heavily on the city in the ‘Annus Mirabilis’ and left so many widows
and orphans to relieve.

Full of interest as the West Gate is, it leaves a sense of regret behind
when we remember that it is the only one remaining of the four principal
gateways which the city once possessed. The artificial and curiously
warped ideas of taste and sentiment which characterised the mid-Georgian
period were responsible for a wholesale destruction of Old Winchester
architectural treasures. Three historic gateways, the ruins of Hyde
Abbey, the tomb of Alfred the Great, Bishop Morley’s Palace of Wolvesey,
all these and others suffered destruction, partial or complete. The City
Cross itself was condemned to removal, but popular indignation, ever
ready to express itself in Winchester as vigorously, even in modern
days, as it was in earlier days of Saxon and Dane, when popular clamour
round the hustings was the due and only expression of law,

[Illustration: HURSLEY VICARAGE

     Hursley, five miles from Winchester, is the centre of ‘Kebleland.’
     Here John Keble was parish priest for thirty-one years. Hursley
     Church was practically rebuilt from the profits of the _Christian
     Year_, and Keble and his wife lie buried in Hursley churchyard
     close to the porch on the southern side.

     The village has memories of Richard Cromwell, and there is a fine
     historical monument to the Cromwell family in the tower of Hursley
     Church.
]

could not be restrained, and the City Cross was left undisturbed. Nor
did the West Gate escape except by accident. The great room over the
gateway was at that time held as an annexe to a public-house adjoining,
and so the West Gate was spared merely in order that Winchester citizens
might the better enjoy their ‘cakes and ale.’ History teaches us to be
grateful at times to strange benefactors. To many, with the present
trend of social and political thought, the sentiment _Das Gasthaus als
Freund_ will come almost as a shock, yet here in Winchester we are
confronted by the curious paradox, that while water has sapped the
stability of the Cathedral, that of the West Gate has been secured by
beer.

Municipal life in Winchester forms another chapter full of interest. Of
her early ‘gilds,’ dating back perhaps to days before Alfred, of the
Chepemanesela, the Chenicteshalla, the Hantachenesla, and other vaguely
indicated centres of civic organisation, where, in Henry I.’s time, the
citizens in their various grades assembled to ‘drink their gild,’ we
have already spoken. Her roll of mayors claims to begin with Florence de
Lunn in 1184. Whatever antiquity the Mayoralty can justly claim--for
Florence de Lunn can hardly be treated quite seriously--her corporate
history is full and varied.

The new Guildhall in the Broadway, some thirty years old only, which has
replaced the old Guildhall in the High Street, possesses an interesting
collection of civic portraits, along with corporation plate, municipal
archives, and much wealth of historic raw material.

The finest of these pictures, King Charles II.’s portrait, painted by
Lely, and presented by the Merry Monarch himself to the city,
represents, perhaps, the only return with which the loyalty of the
citizens towards the house of Stuart was rewarded. They lent King
Charles I. £1000, they melted their private plate, valued at £300, and
their city plate, valued at £58 more, to help to fill his empty coffers
when the Civil War was raging. Old Bishop Morley, whose memories centre
closest round present-day Wolvesey and Farnham, and Bishop Hoadly of the
Queen Anne period, are among the more interesting of the personalities
whose effigies are here displayed.

Many, indeed, are the interesting memories which Winchester preserves of
the Merry Monarch and his Court; of Nell Gwynn and of the valiant stand
made against her by Prebendary Ken; of Sir Christopher Wren and the
palace he commenced to build for his royal master on the site of the
castle razed by Cromwell--a great and ambitious project never completed,
but which, under the name of the King’s House, served for many years as
the military headquarters of the city till a great fire swept it away in
1894, to make room for the present barracks, erected, soon afterwards,
on very nearly the same site.

Another interesting Guildhall portrait is that of Edward Cole, Mayor in
1597, a patriotic citizen who himself subscribed £50--a large sum for
one man in those days--towards the Queen’s war fund in days of the
Armada, and a ‘gubernator’ some years later of Christes Hospitall,
Winchester, founded, by Peter

Symonds, in 1607 alike for the maintenance of the aged and the education
of the young--a foundation possessing a delightful old Jacobean
building, just beyond the Close wall, out of which has grown, almost
within the last decade, on a wide and open site on the outskirts of the
city, a rapidly developing school of modern type, where the ‘children’
of Peter Symonds, in largely increased numbers, receive a far wider
education than was possible when he first called them into existence.

His will is a curious and characteristic document. It occupied an
enormous number of folios. Blue Coat schoolboys, practically until the
removal of the school to Horsham, showed respect to his memory by some
sixty of their number attending a special Good Friday Service at the
church of All Hallows, Lombard Street, at which sixpences and raisins
were distributed, in accordance with his will; and his Winchester
scholars and Brethren keep his memory by an annual procession to service
at the Cathedral on St. Peter’s Day, with a special sermon and quaint
ceremonial observance.

Such are some of the matters of interest, small and great, which meet
you wherever you turn in Winchester--everywhere there is some _genius
loci_, some cricket installed, and chirping on the hearth. Here it is a
quaint tavern-sign such as you can read on the outskirts. As you leave
the city you read the legend “Last Out,” as you approach from without
you read “First In.” Or it is a name of some street--Jewry Street, for
instance, recalling the times when, as already narrated, the Jews
formed a powerful element in the commercial prosperity of the city, and
had a Ghetto here--or Staple Garden, reminiscent of the great Wool Hall,
where the ‘Tron’ or weighing-machine of the Wool Staple was kept, when
Winchester was the mart where the wool trade of the south of England
centred. And here and there are darker and more sombre recollections,
such as the tablet outside the City Museum serves to remind us of the
moving tragedy of the execution of Dame Alicia Lisle in September 1685,
on a spot in the open roadway, in front of what then was the Market
House. Then, too, there are glorious old houses, Tudor and mediaeval,
like God Begot House and the so-called Cheesehill Old Rectory, and the
delightful houses erected by Sir Christopher Wren himself--those
inhabited now by Dr. England and Captain Crawford in Southgate Street
for instance, and the house in St. Peter’s Street erected for the
Duchess of Portsmouth, of unpleasant memory. These are merely random
examples of the kind of interest which Winchester presents to those who
wander through her streets with eyes to see and ears to hear. For the
casual visitor Winchester has much to offer; for the student of history
she has more; but her wealth of treasure can only be apprehended
adequately by those who are privileged to dwell within her charmed
circle, for her harvest of attraction is too wide to be garnered save by
those who bring extended opportunity as well as love and reverence to
the task.

CHAPTER XIX

WINCHESTER IN LITERATURE

    And as imagination bodies forth
    The forms of things unknown, the poet’s eye
    Clothes them with shapes, and gives to airy nothing
    A local habitation and a name.

It is always a pleasing occupation to follow out the associations of
human fancy which often invest persons and places with an interest, and
indeed a romantic charm, to which the cold-eyed historian or dryasdust
critic is entirely unresponsive, and if Winchester as it first appeared
to us, as we looked down from the brow of St. Giles’s Hill, seemed to
throb with the life and interest of a departed age, and of historical
personages long since passed away, so too we shall find that it
possesses associations of the purely literary type, not indeed fit to
challenge comparison with the glorious pageantry of its historic past
which we have attempted, all too inadequately, to present upon our
stage, but not unworthy to be chronicled and to be included in her
volume of romance and recollection. Her points of contact with
literature have been many, and yet it would be wrong to describe her as
a literary city. No poet of note, no great writer, has, in recent days
at all events, claimed her as parent; her acquaintance has been rather
with literary persons than with literature itself, for though she has
attracted many to make her in some form or other their theme, but little
of real weight in any but ancient literature has first seen the light
beneath her auspices. For all this she has, in literature as in life,
her story to tell, and that an ancient one.

The first literary associations of Winchester are, as is but natural,
historical ones, and the first mention of her in literature is found in
Bede, who records for us, among other scanty details, her name, ‘Venta,
quae a gente Saxonum Ventanceastir appellatur’; she next appears in a
full flood of glory, the seat of the learned and literary court of
Alfred, from which he gave the world the treasures of his literary
efforts--the _Consolations_ of Boëthius, Gregory’s _Pastoral Care_,
Orosius, and Bede’s _Ecclesiastical History_, all rendered into the
vernacular, and more important far than all of these, the great
thesaurus of early national history, the _English Chronicle_, the
history of which we have already related, and from which we have quoted
so constantly in our earlier chapters, to be followed by the equally
momentous Domesday Book--curious as it may seem to include this among
literary productions. Following from this we have a wide and almost
bewildering series of chroniclers, historians, and annalists, some of
whom, like William of Malmesbury, Henry Knighton, and Matthew Paris,
record details of her career incidentally as general items in the
history of the land, while others, like Precentor Wulfstan and the
annalists of Ealden Mynstre and Newan Mynstre, laboured at Winchester in
their respective scriptoria, producing not merely wonderful works like
the _Benedictional_ of St. Æthelwold and the _Golden Book_ of Edgar, but
local histories in goodly store, the Hyde _Liber Vitae_ and _Liber de
Hyda_, and the later monkish annals of Plantagenet days--Rudborne’s
_Major Historia Wintoniae_, the anonymously written _Annales de
Wintonia_, and others. Prominent among these various chroniclers was
Geoffrey of Monmouth, who, romancist and fabricator as he was, has yet
rendered valuable service by preserving the British legends as they
survived among the Brythonic folk, and has given us--and let us be duly
grateful--the Arthurian legend in all its suggestive elusiveness and
mystery, centring round Winchester and Silchester, with Arthur the
Christian King, Merlin the Mage, Dubric the High Saint, and many
another--a legend which passed through many languages and many lands,
gathering store of added marvels on the way, the customary guerdon of
such literary wanderings, to reappear in strange unwonted guises, as in
Layamond’s _Brut_ and the _Morte d’Arthur_ of Malorie. And the legendary
lore of Winchester is far from being her least attractive literary
asset: we have dealt with this subject fairly fully already--some may
perhaps deem too fully,--yet is not legend but the _alter ego_ of
history, and are not myth and legend, sober fact and imaginative
creation, after all merely the multicoloured strata in the complete
rainbow of presentment of vital truth, passing and repassing each into
other by nice gradation and imperceptible advance? But all these are but
prehistoric as it were, when English as a language was not, and monastic
Latin and Anglo-Saxon the muddy media of literary communication.

The Winchester stream in English literature begins to flow at first with
feeble current--a distich or so of uncouth verse, or a casual reference,
as in _Piers Plowman_, Leland, Camden, or elsewhere. Drayton, in his
_Polyolbion_, has some twenty lines or so on the Itchen, referring to
the Round Table of Arthur at Winchester, and the towns on her course,
speaking of

... that wondrous Pond whence she derives her head,
    And places by the way, by which shee’s honoured,
    (Old Winchester, that stands neere in her middle way,
    And Hampton, at her fall, into the Solent Sea),

and Ken and Walton, in later Stuart days, come upon the scene. Ken is a
real Winchester possession--educated at Winchester College, and later
on, Prebendary of the Cathedral, he wrote his well-known and still
widely-used _Manual of Prayer_ for the use of the scholars of Winchester
College, and his _Morning and Evening Hymns_ breathe the same spirit of
the inner religious life afterwards so beautifully reflected in Keble’s
_Christian Year_. His preferment to the see of Bath and

[Illustration: WINCHESTER FROM ST. GILES’S HILL

From St. Giles’s Hill, where in mediaeval days the world-famous Fair of
St. Egidius or St. Giles was held, an unequalled view of Winchester city
can be obtained. The Cathedral, Wolvesey, the College, the Guildhall,
the High Street, the Alfred Statue, the Old Guildhall, the Westgate, can
all be seen. The dark clump of trees on the sky-line is the so-called
Oliver’s Battery.]

Wells arose too out of his sturdy refusal to countenance the Merry
Monarch’s irregular life, for he refused to let Mistress Eleanor Gwynne
have the use of his house to lodge in, a refusal which angered the king
at the time, but conciliated his respect, for on the bishopric falling
vacant he declared that none should have it but the “good little man who
refused his lodging to poor Nelly.” Izaak Walton, Ken’s relative, made
Winchester his residence during the closing years of his long life--a
man of culture and some literary pretension, apart altogether from his
immortal _Compleat Angler_, for his lives of Donne and Herbert attained
to some celebrity; tradition connects a certain summer-house by the
stream in the Deanery garden with him and his fishing, and in several
places in his _Compleat Angler_ he makes allusion to our Winchester
streams, showing that he had ofttimes baited his angle by one or other
of its waters. Peace to his soul--he rests in the Cathedral, in
Silkstede’s Chapel, and the verses over his tomb, though devoid of all
literary merit, are said to have been written by Ken his kinsman.

Our next possession is a greater name--and that, moreover, a Hampshire,
though not in any real sense a Winchester one--the Hampshire novelist,
the most charming and natural of women writers, Jane Austen. Here in the
early days of 1817, when a deadly and insidious malady had attacked her,
she came with her sister Cassandra to lodge in a house in College
Street, occupied then by a Mrs. David, in the vain hope that Winchester
medical skill might restore her strength.

The following letter from her pen,[3] written at this period, reveals
the characteristic _espièglerie_ of the writer, which not even advancing
weakness could disarm or subdue.

                                  MRS. DAVID’S, COLLEGE STREET, WINTON,
                                                   _Tuesday, May 27th_.

     There is no better way, my dearest E., of thanking you for your
     affectionate concern for me during my illness than by telling you
     myself, as soon as possible, that I continue to get better. I will
     not boast of my handwriting--neither that nor my face have yet
     recovered their proper beauty; but in other respects I gain
     strength very fast; am now out of bed from 9 in the morning to 10
     at night; upon the sofa, it is true, but I eat my meals with Aunt
     Cassandra in a rational way, and can employ myself, and walk from
     one room to another. Mr. Lyford says he will cure me, and if he
     fails I shall draw up a memorial and lay it before the Dean and
     Chapter, and have no doubt of redress from that pious, learned, and
     disinterested body. Our lodgings are very comfortable. We have a
     neat little drawing-room with a bow window, overlooking Dr.
     Gabell’s garden.... On Thursday, which is a confirmation and a
     holiday, we are to get Charles [_a relative--then a boy at the
     College_] out to breakfast. We have had but one visit from him,
     poor fellow, as he is in sick-room, but he hopes to be out
     to-night.... God bless you, my dear E. If ever you are ill, may you
     be as tenderly nursed as I have been. May the same blessed
     alleviations of anxious, sympathising friends be yours; and may you
     possess, as I dare say you will, the greatest blessing of all, in
     the consciousness of not being unworthy of their love. _I_ could
     not feel this.--Your very affectionate aunt,

                                                                  J. A.

Poor Jane Austen, the rally was but a momentary one, and an untimely
death cut short her career just as she was developing to her best work.
She is buried in the Cathedral, where, curiously, the flat stone slab
over her body speaks eloquently of her benevolence of heart, sweetness
of temper, and Christian patience and hope, but not one word of her
literary skill or claims as an authoress--the only reference to these is
in the indirect phrase “the extraordinary endowments of her mind.” So
little was her right place in literature then realized, that some among
her friends saw her appearance as a novelist rather with concern than
with approval, and her literary ventures were even referred to
apologetically. Posterity has amply atoned for this neglect: the
Cathedral possesses two memorials of her--a brass and a stained-glass
window; and she has long since been admitted to the high measure of
appreciation to which her naturalness and sincerity justly entitle her.
The Dr. Gabell referred to in the letter was, of course, the well-known
Dr. Gabell, headmaster of the College, mentioned in the previous
chapter, a characteristic figure famous in his day, a picture of whom,
had she been spared, she might perhaps have left us, limned in her own
nervous and inimitable manner; but, alas! it was not to be. Fortunately
the house she occupied is known, and a commemorative tablet, placed over
the door, records appropriately her sojourn there and her untimely
death.

Following close upon Jane Austen came another, with a name ever to be
honoured in song--a summer migrant merely, it is true, or rather an
autumn one,--whose light was destined to be shortly afterwards suddenly
extinguished also. John Keats, the poet, who came here in August 1819
from Shanklin, where “Keats’s Green” preserves his memory, for a visit
of some two months’ duration--“the last good days of his life.” Several
considerations dictated his visit to Winchester, among others, the
desire to have access to a good library, a desire destined, quite
unaccountably, to disappointment. His letters written from Winchester
are full and charming literary productions: he describes the
‘maiden-ladylike gentility’ of her streets; the door-steps always ‘fresh
from the flannel’--the knockers with a staid, serious, and almost awful
quietness about them; the High Street as quiet as a lamb, the
door-knockers ‘dieted to three raps per diem’;--in such happy, delicate
phrases he hits off the Winchester of the day. Of the place itself he
gives us interesting touches: the air on one of its downs is ‘worth
sixpence a pint’; the beautiful streams full of trout delight him; the
Cathedral, fourteen centuries old, enchants his imagination; while the
foundation of St. Cross he finds to be greatly abused.

Where he lodged we know not, dearly as we should like to--we can only
form such conclusions as the following clues[4] point to:

     I take a walk every day for an hour before dinner, and this is
     generally my walk. I go out the back gate across one street into
     the Cathedral yard, which is always interesting; there I pass under
     the trees along a paved path, pass the beautiful front of the
     Cathedral, turn to the left under a stone doorway--then I am on the
     other side of the building, which leaving behind me, I pass on
     through two College-like squares, seemingly built for the
     dwelling-place of Deacons and Prebendaries, furnished with grass
     and shaded with trees; then I pass through one of the old city
     gates and then you are in one College Street, through which I pass,
     and at the end thereof crossing some meadows, and at last a country
     alley of gardens, I arrive at the foundation of St. Cross, which is
     a very interesting old place, both for its Gothic tower and Alms
     square and also for the appropriation of its rich rents to a
     relation of the Bishop of Winchester. Then I pass over St. Cross
     meadows till you come to the most beautifully clear river. Now this
     is only one mile of my walk.[5]

Another clue, which locates the house very close to the High Street, if
not in it, is given by the following:

     We heard distinctly a noise patting down the High Street as of a
     walking cane of the good old Dowager breed, and a little minute
     after we heard a less voice observe, “What a noise the ferril
     made--it must be loose.”[6]

Winchester streets are less staid and genteel now, and the High Street
would hardly echo responsive to such repressed sounds to-day.

Two months only the visit lasted, months of tense compression and rich
utterance of song. _Hyperion_ (which he never finished), _Lamia_, _The
Eve of St. Agnes_, _La Belle Dame sans Merci_--all these in one form or
other came under his pen for completion or revision, while his _Ode to
Autumn_, the most perfect of all his odes, was wholly a Winchester
production inspired by his circumstances and surroundings. The German
poet might almost have had Keats prophetically before him when he sang:

    Singst du nicht dein ganzes Leben,
    Sing doch in der Jugend Drang!
    Nur im Blüthenmond erheben
    Nachtigallen ihren Sang.

    E’en though after years be silent,
    Sing while youthful passions throng,
    Only in the fervid spring-time
    Nightingales pour forth their song.

But no after years, alas! were to succeed, and Keats’s fervid
‘Blüthenmond’ was all his allotted span. Winchester is happy in the
memory of his eventful connection with her, brief in time though it was.

Our next name is Thackeray, who seems to have loved to locate his scenes
in our city and neighbourhood, though in general his references have too
little local colour to permit of identification--assuming, that is, that
any such local image was really intended.

_Vanity Fair_ and _Esmond_ are full of local allusions; Sir Pitt
Crawley, for instance, would appear to derive his names from Pitt and
Crawley, two villages close to Winchester; and in _Esmond_, Hampshire
allusions, tantalisingly veiled, it is true, seem to meet and to baffle
you everywhere. It seems impossible to avoid identifying Castlewood,
with its ruined house battered down by Cromwell, and the Bell Inn with
Basing House and Basingstoke; and while Alton, Alresford, and Crawley
are all mentioned, it is round Winchester that interest centres and
perplexes most. Where else in literature is a scene so inimitably
conjured up and told so charmingly and with such restraint, where else
is the real Thackeray so fully revealed, as when Esmond rides on from
Walcote to the ‘George’ at Winchester on the fateful 29th December, and

     walked straight to the Cathedral. The organ was playing, the
     winter’s day was already growing grey, as he passed under the
     street arch into the Cathedral yard and made his way into the
     ancient solemn edifice.

Wonderful is the chapter that follows--when Esmond and his ‘mistress,’
reconciled once more, first become mutually conscious of their love, and
the words of the anthem, “He that goeth forth and weepeth shall
doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him,”
find their joyous refrain in the loving words they exchange.

But where is Walcote? Conjecture would almost naturally settle on
Lainston House, some three miles away, the memories of which, in the
person of the notorious Duchess of Kingston, doubtless suggested the
character of Beatrix the incomparable, the breaker of hearts, the wilful
and selfish beauty, did not distance put this out of question. Prior’s
Barton House, at St. Cross, would fit us better. But the problem is a
baffling one, if indeed it has any solution at all.

Of a different kind are the memories which linger round the immediate
neighbourhood--the villages of Twyford, Otterbourne, Hursley. At Twyford
the poet Pope was sent to school, and in a house close by the great Dr.
Benjamin Franklin composed his autobiography; Otterbourne was the
birthplace and lifelong home of Charlotte Yonge, the high-minded and
accomplished, whose books will always be a standard for what is highest
and most womanly in fiction--who loved to weave the details of local
association with the stories she told so skilfully and well; and on a
higher level still we have at Hursley the memories of Keble and the
_Christian Year_,--not that Keble wrote the _Christian Year_ at Hursley,
though his connection with the place as curate commenced before it was
completed, but his life-work was in reality here. Hursley Church,
practically rebuilt by him from the profits of the sale of his
_Christian Year_, is his truest memorial, and the beautiful church and
peaceful churchyard, where he sleeps his last earthly sleep, will be
ever a spot of hallowed association and pilgrimage. Winchester may be
proud of its hymn-writers: Ken and Keble were two, and a third less well
known, but certainly deserving to be honoured, was William Whiting,
master of the College Choir School some two generations or so back,
whose beautiful hymn, “Eternal Father, strong to save,” will ever hold a
high place in the affections of church-going people.

Following on these memories we have a host of references in modern
fiction which centre more or less definitely round the neighbourhood.
Trollope’s _Barchester_ has been conjecturally identified with
Winchester, and there is a wonderfully minute and circumstantial
correspondence in _The Warden_ between the details of _Hiram’s Hospital_
and St. Cross. Miss Braddon takes us to Winchester indeed, but gives us
little, if any, actual picture of the city. The immortal Sherlock Holmes
honoured it also with a visit in the _Adventure of the Copper Beeches_,
keeping an appointment at the ‘Black Swan,’ “an inn of repute in the
High Street,” and the Cathedral and Close seem to be suggested in the
_Silence of Dean Maitland_. Allusions direct, and what seem allusions
barely veiled, are frequent, but none can vie in tragic interest and
solemn faithfulness with the last awful scene in Hardy’s _Tess of the
D’Urbervilles_--when Angel Clare and Liza, her husband and sister, are
awaiting the moment of poor Tess’s execution:--

     When they had reached the top of the West Hill the clocks in the
     town struck eight. Each gave a start at the notes, and walking
     onwards yet a few steps they reached the first milestone ... and
     waited in paralysed suspense beside the stone.

     The prospect from the summit was almost unlimited. In the valley
     beneath, the city they had just left, its more prominent buildings
     showing as in an isometric drawing--among them the broad Cathedral
     tower, with its Norman windows and immense length of aisle and
     nave; the spires of St. Thomas’s; the pinnacled tower of the
     College; and more to the right the tower and gables of the ancient
     hospice, where to this day the pilgrim may receive his dole of
     bread and ale....

     Against these far stretches of country rose, in front of the other
     city edifices, a large red brick building with level grey roof, and
     rows of short barred windows speaking captivity, the whole
     contrasting greatly by its formalism with the quaint irregularities
     of the Gothic erections.... From the middle of the building an ugly
     flat-topped octagonal tower ascended against the east horizon, and
     viewed from this spot, on its shady side and against the light,
     seemed the one blot on the city’s beauty. Yet it was with this blot
     and not with the beauty that the two gazers were concerned. Upon
     the cornice of the tower a tall staff was fixed. Their eyes were
     riveted on it. A few minutes after the hour had struck, something
     moved slowly up the staff and extended itself upon the breeze. It
     was a black flag.[7]

Poor Tess! was it necessary for the author to mete out measure thus
cruelly upon the children of his imagination--was it kind to Winchester
to burden her memories with one so appallingly harrowing, so much in
contrast with her quiet peace?

And yet, after all, is it anything more than retributive justice? Have
not her citizens--those of a generation or so back, at least--been
responsible for permitting the one really commanding elevation and
landmark she possesses to be marred and dishonoured by this same ‘blot,’
these obtrusive prison-walls, capped by this self-same ‘ugly flat-topped
octagonal tower’? Is not rather the creator of _Tess_ displaying a fine
and just critical perception in thus exacting from them the full
literary penalty for so unpardonable an outrage on the outward
attractiveness of their own fair city?

Such are some of the phantoms which pursue or elude us as we pass to
and fro through the circle of Winchester and its surroundings--yet are
they actual phantoms? Have not these seemingly impalpable nothings as
complete an identity as the memories and records of the actual
happenings of the past? The writer well recollects, after hunting
through Salisbury and exploring its treasures of architecture and
interest, the delight with which he came upon the old Cathedral organ,
now for some years past removed from the Cathedral to one of the city
churches, and recognized in it a real bond of relationship--not because
it was originally the gift of George III., though that indeed was the
case, but because it was the organ on which Dickens’s Tom Pinch had
played when the Cathedral service was over, and his friend the
organist’s assistant had permitted him to touch the keys. Not a great
circumstance, nor a great character--far from it,--but sufficient to
supply the one touch of human sympathy by which soul recognizes soul,
and which binds all--past and present, student and subject, reader and
author--alike in one. And even as these phantoms, whether of history or
legend, of actual existence or fancy, have been conjured up before us
for some brief spell, let us, now our task has drawn to a close, bid
them adieu with what kindliness of recollection we may:

    Come like shadows, so depart.

Index

_The titles in black type refer to illustrations._

Adam of Gurdon, 123

Ælfeah, 58

Æthelbert, 32

Æthelred the Redeless, 61, 85

Æthelwold, Bishop, 20, 30, 49, 54, 58, 78, 85, 147, 153, 154

Æthelwulf, 30, 32, 85, 153

Alfred, King, 5, 32, 34, 91, 143, 152, 153

Alfred, a refugee, 38

Alfred, statue of, 42

Alresford, 111, 184

Alswitha, 41, 91, 145

Alton, Pass of, 123

Alwarenestret, 94

Alwine, 71

Anderida, 15

Anselm, Archbishop, 87, 96

Antonine, Itineraries, 15

Arthur, King, 15, 168, 183

Arthur, Prince, 151, 173

Arthur, Round Table, 21, 168, 174, 184

Asser, Bishop, 36, 40

Assize, Bloody, 7, 175

Athelstan, King, 43

Augustine, 21

Aulus Plautius, 15

Austen, Jane, 7, 154, 171, 185

Avington Park, 22

Barons’ war, 113

Beaufort, Cardinal, 147, 151, 171

Bede (Venerable), 22

Benedictines, 131

Birinus, 23, 24, 153, 154

Bishop’s Waltham, 162, 169

Black Death, 139, 160

Bredenestret, 94

Broadway, 177

Browne, Harold, Bishop, 154

Bucchestret, 93, 94

Burton, Dr., 163

Buttercross, 80, 118, 177

Cædmon, 36

Cær Gwent, 14

Calais, 121

Calpestret, 94

Camden, 143

Castle, Norman, at Winchester, 86, 94, 172

Castle, Brabantine merchants in Winchester, 115

Cathedral, 8, 29

Cathedral of Æthelwold, 56, 77

Cathedral, bedesmen, 4

Cathedral, pilgrims at, 128

Cathedral, preservation of, 77, 155

Cathedral, transformation by Wykeham, 149

Cathedral (Winchester), 23, 146

Celts, 12

Charlemagne, 27

Charles II., 6, 178

Charles V. (Emperor), 6, 174

Chenictes, 96

Chenichetehalla, 96, 177

Chepemanesela, 96, 177

Cheyney Court, 155

Cheyney Court and Close Gate, 112

Chilcombe, 47

Christes Hospitall, 5, 179

_Christian Year_ (Keble), 192

Christianity in Hampshire, 21

Clausentum (Southampton), 15, 18

Close, the, 125

Cnut, 5, 65, 85, 91, 144, 153

Colbrand, 44, 91

Cole, Edward, Mayor, 178

Colet, Dean, 160

College, Brew House, 164

College, Winchester, 145, 158

Commoners, 163

County Hall, 172

Cromwell, Oliver, 172

Cromwell, Thomas, 142

Curfew, 80

Curle, Bishop, 145

Danemark Mead, 47, 91

Danes, 28, 36, 60, 85, 153

Danihel (Bishop), 25

David, King of Scotland, 105

Dean and Chapter of Winchester, 144

Deanery, 145, 155

Deanery, The, 105

De Montfort, Simon, 113, 173

Domesday Book, 72, 80, 92, 182

Domesday (Winchester), 92

Domum, 166

Dorchester, 23

Drayton’s _Polyolbion_, 184

Dunstan (Archbishop), 30, 50, 56

Ealden Mynstre, 41, 44, 51, 183

East Gate, 94, 95

Easton, 96

Edgar, 30, 48, 49, 59, 85

Edmund, King, 48

Edred, King, 48

Edward the Confessor, 66

Edward III., King, 120

Edward, Prince, 114

Edward the Elder, King, 43, 91

Edwy, King, 49

Edyngton, Bishop, 147, 151

Egbert, 27, 85, 153

Election chamber, 162

Emma (Ælfgyfu), Queen, 62, 65, 85, 91, 153

_English Chronicle_, 22, 34, 39, 40, 50, 61, 69, 82, 101, 168, 182

Escheopes, 95

Esmond, 190

Estals, 95

Ethelmar, Bishop, 154

Eton College, 152

Evesham, battle, 114

Feudal system, 80

Flesmangere Stret, 94

Font (cathedral), 100

Fox, Bishop, 147, 151

Franklin, Benjamin, 192

Friars in Winchester, 139

Fromond’s Chantry, 167

Fyfhyde, Walter, Abbot, 139

Gabell, Dr., 166, 187

Gardiner, Bishop, 151

Geoffrey of Monmouth, 20, 183

George, 121, 191

George Hotel, 97

Gere (Gar) Stret, 93

Gewissas, 20, 22

Ghetto, 97, 180

Gild merchant, 46, 80, 121

Gilds, 95, 177

Godbegot House, 62

Godbiete, 62, 80, 120

Godfrey de Lucy, Bishop, 111, 147

Godwine, Earl, 65, 66, 85

Godwine, Earl, death of, 69, 153

Golde Stret, 94

Gospel Oak, 22

Grimbald, Abbot, 41

Guild Hall, 97

Guy of Warwick, 46, 91

Hædda, Bishop, 23

Hamble, 32

Hamble River, 40

Hampshire, Christianity in, 21

_Hampshire, Victoria History of_, 72

Hantachenesle, 94, 96, 177

Hardy, Thomas, 193

Harold, King, 65

Harold II., King, 71

Harthacnut, 65, 85, 153

Hempage Wood, 77

Henry I., 6, 80, 88, 98

Henry II., King, 105, 110

Henry III., King, 6, 111, 154, 173

Henry IV., King, 151

Henry V., 173

Henry VIII., 6, 91, 140, 173

Henry of Blois (Bishop), 22, 64, 92, 100, 154, 168, 171

Henry of Blois, Papal Legate, 102

Heptarchy, 26

_Hereward the Wake_, 48, 85

High Street, 48

Hoadley (Bishop), 154, 178

Horne (Bishop), 144

Hours, services of, 133

Hursley, 192

Hursley Vicarage, 176

_Hyda, Liber de_, 45, 50, 54, 183

Hyde, Abbey, 41, 90, 105, 115, 127, 133, 145

Hyde Abbey, dissolved, 143

Hyde, _Liber Vitæ_ of, 64, 183

Itchen Abbas, 41

Itchen Stoke, Watersplash at, 89

James I., 6

Jewry Street, 97

Jews, 97

Joan of Navarre, 151

John, King, 6, 111

Julius Cæsar, 15

Judith, Countess, 83

Judith, Queen, 36

Keats, John, 3, 188

Keble, John, 153, 192

Ken (Bishop), 153, 166, 170, 178, 188

Kenulphus (Kenwalh), 23, 85, 147, 153

King’s Gate, 95, 98, 114, 123, 130

King’s Gate, 73

Kingsmill, William (Prior), 144

Kitchin, Dean, 136

Knighton, Henry, 47, 105, 183

Knights of St. John (Hospitallers), 107, 169

Kynegils, 22, 24, 32, 147, 153

Lachenictahalla, 96

Lainston House, 191

Langton’s Chapel, 150

Lanfranc, Archbishop, 77, 88

Leach’s _Winchester College_, 167

Leland, 143

Lely, 178

Leofric, Earl, 66

Liberty of Godbiete, 62

Liberty of the Soke, 119

Lisle, Dame Alice, 7, 174

London, 74

Magdalen College, Oxford, 152

Magdalen Hill, 10

Manners makyth man, 6, 158, 166

Martyr Worthy, 80

Mary, Queen, 151

Mary, Queen, 5

Mathew of Paris, 115, 183

Matilda, Empress, 5, 102, 169, 172

Mayor, 119

Meads, 140, 166

Menstre Stret, 94

Middle gate, College, 164

Mirabel Close, 132, 155

Moab, 165

Moberley (Doctor), 163

Monastic life, 130

Morley (Bishop), 154, 170, 178

Mortuary chests, 24, 28, 32, 64, 153

Morys, John, 166, 170

Naseby, 172

Natives and Aliens, 176

Nell Gwynne, 178, 185

New College, Oxford, 159

New Forest, 80, 88

Newan Mynstre, 34, 41, 43, 51, 69, 71, 90

Norman Conquest, 73

Novices, Master of, 135

Nunna Mynstre (St. Mary’s Abbey), 41, 54, 98, 104, 109, 118, 145, 183

Obedientiarii, 133

Obelisk, 175

Old Minster, 63, 64, 66, 69

Oliver’s Battery, 8

Order of Noble Poverty, 172

Osberga, 36

Otterbourne, 192

Oxford, 152

Palm Hall, 126

Parliament at Winchester, 114

Pass of Alton, 123

_Pavilionis Aula_, 122, 126

Peter de Rupibus (Bishop), 112, 154

Peter Symonds, 179

Pevensey, 15

Philip of Spain, 151

Piepowder Court, 126

Piers Plowman, 125

Pilgrims, 126

Pilgrims’ Hall, 128, 155

Pilgrims’ Way, 129

Plague in Winchester, 175

Plantagenets, 109

Plegmund, 43

_Polyolbion_, Drayton’s, 184

Portchester, 10

_Portus Magnus_ (Portchester), 15, 18

Raleigh, 6, 174

Richard of Devizes, 97

Richard I., King, 97, 110, 151

Robert, Earl of Gloucester, 104

Roger Bacon, 113

Rome, Alfred at, 32

Roman roads, 17, 19

Roman occupation, 15

Roman walls, 16

Round table, 21, 168, 174, 184

Rudborne (_Major Historia_), 46, 55, 63, 71, 80, 183

Rufus, 5, 65, 79, 87, 88, 108, 153

St. Æthelwold (_Benedictional_ of), 57, 183

St. Alphege, 58

St. Bartholomew, Hyde, church of, 138

St. Brice’s Day, 61

St. Catherine’s Hill, 9

St. Catherine’s Hill, 10, 64, 166

St. Cross, 64

St. Cross, 5, 100, 107, 108, 127, 145, 169, 171

St. Cross, Tower of Ambulatory, 160

St. Elizabeth’s College, 140, 145

St. Giles’s Fair, 79, 95, 117, 121

St. Giles’s Hill, 7, 10, 159, 180

St. John’s Hospital, 145

St. Josse, 44, 127

St. Lawrence, 169

St. Mary’s Abbey (Nunna Mynstre), 41, 54, 109, 118

St. Peter’s, Cheesehill, 57

St. Swithun’s Church, 114

St. Swithun’s Monastery, 24, 32, 51, 91, 98, 110, 113, 115, 118, 130, 133, 144

Sarum, 10

Saxon Winchester, 20

Scowertenestret, 94, 97

Seculars, 52

Senlac, 72

Seventh Chamber, 164

Shawford Mill, 16

Sherlock Holmes, 193

Silchester, 10, 18, 20

Sildwortenstret, 93, 94

Silence of Dean Maitland, 193

Siward (Earl), 66

Slype, the, 145

Snidelingestret, 94

Soke, Liberty of, 119

Southampton, 15

Southgate, 123

Staple towns, 120

Stephen, 6, 100

Stigand (Bishop), 76, 144

Stret bidel, 95

Sustern Spital, 140, 163

Swithun, Bishop, 29, 32, 54, 127, 147, 153, 154

Tannerestret, 94

_Tess of the D’Urbervilles_, 193

Thackeray, 190

Trollope, Anthony, 192

Tron, 120, 180

Trusty servant, 164

Twyford, 192

Venta, 25

Venta Belgarum, 14, 15

Vespasian, 15

Victoria, Queen, 153, 173

Vikings, 28

Vintan-ceastir, 25, 182

Walcote, 191

Walkelyn (Bishop), 77, 147, 154

Waltheof (Earl), 83

Walton, Izaak, 153, 154, 170, 184

Wantage, 35

Warton, Doctor, 154

Wayneflete (Bishop), 151

Weald Forest, 12

Weirs, The, 25

Wenegerestret, 94

Wessex (capital of), 20, 153

Westgate, 94, 123, 175, 177

Westminster Abbey, 147

White Ship, 90, 98, 101

Whiting, William, 192

Wilberforce, Samuel (Bishop), 154

William of Malmesbury, 183

William I., 5, 71, 74, 87, 172

William II. (Rufus), 5, 65, 79, 87, 88, 108

William of Wykeham, 6, 107, 139, 147, 148, 151, 158

Winchester Domesday, 92

Winchester, Alfred’s death and after, 43
  Arthurian legend, 20
  Bishop Æthelwold, 49
  Capital of Danish Empire, 59
  Capital of England, 26
  Cathedral, 23, 29, 100, 146, 186, 189
  Civil War in, 104
  Conversion of Kynegils, 23
  Dean and Chapter, 144
  Early days, 10
  Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, 117
  In Literature, 171
  Later Norman, 87
  Massacre at, 61
  Monastic life, 130
  Norman, 73

Winchester, Norman castle, 86
  Plague in, 175
  Roman city, 16
  Roman occupation, 15
  Saxon, 20
  That Joly Citè, 1
  Westgate, 40
  Winton Survey, 92
  Wolvesey, 168

Winchester from St. Giles’s Hill, 184

Winchester College Brewhouse, 121
  Cloisters and Fromond’s Chantry, 137
  Memorial Gateway, 144
  Middle Gate, 128
  Second Master’s House, 153
  Tower of the Chapel, _Frontispiece_

_Wintonia, Annales de_, 77, 183

Wolsey, 142, 153, 168

Wolvesey, 8, 39, 59, 85, 98, 100, 102, 104, 118, 126, 170

Wool trade, 120, 180

Wren, Sir Christopher, 178, 180

Wrothesley, Thomas, 142

Wulfstan (Precentor), 53, 55, 77, 118

Wye, Faire, 125

Wykehamica, Adams’s, 167

Yonge, Charlotte, 192

THE END

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] Or _Hantachevesle_ (the spelling is obscure).

[2] Knighton’s _De eventibus Angliae_.

[3] _Memoir of Jane Austen_, by Austen Leigh, pp. 163 and 164, inserted
here by kind permission of Messrs. Macmillan and Co.

[4] This and the following extracts are inserted here by kind
permission of Messrs. Macmillan and Co.

[5] Letter to George and Georgina Keats, September 21. From _Letters of
John Keats_: Sidney Colvin: p. 310.

[6] _Letter to G. and G. Keats_, September 20.

[7] Inserted by kind permission of Messrs. Macmillan and Co.