36 By Stream and Sea. 



But (fortunately, who shall question ?) it is not for mortals to 

 command in these things ; not one of us by taking thought 

 can add another bud to the boughs, or develope another 

 flower in the hedgerows. 



Masses of slate-coloured clouds roll over the fine old city 

 of Winchester as I wait in a porch for the carriage which is 

 to convey us to Itchen-side, and — miserable luck ! — the 

 hailstones storm us in volleys, making the windows of the 

 cathedral over the way rattle again, and covering the green 

 grass of the churchyard with tiny dancing hop-o'-my-thumbs 

 which speedily are gone for ever. The carriage cometh 

 not; up the street and down the street we look, and still 

 the chariot wheels delay their coming. It is but a step 

 across to the cathedral, and we may spend a profitable 

 quarter of an hour there. Moreover, it is a spot of peculiar 

 interest to the angler. 



The antiquarian loves Winchester Cathedral because- of 

 its hoary historical associations with the period when the 

 White City of the Downs was fortified by the Romans, who 

 established there their College of Priests, and upon its site 

 — or near enough to it for argumentative purposes — erected 

 their temples of Apollo and Concord. The connoisseur of 

 architecture loves the low-towered church for the wonderful 

 combination of many schools which it represents. Rebuilt 

 with crypts by Ethelwold, after the rude handling of Danish 

 invaders, Bishop Walkelyn introduced nave and transepts in 

 massive Norman style. This was the Walkelyn whose tower 

 is supposed to have fallen in horror at the burial in con- 

 secrated ground of His Majesty William Rufus, who, you 

 may remember, having been sent to his last account by 

 Master Tyrrell's arrow in the forest yonder, was brought 

 hither in a charcoal-burner's cart. Then we have the Right 

 Reverend Godfrey de Lucy's Early English, and famous 



