The roll of bishops is a remarkable one, and the see has had eleven who were also Lord Chancellors, the last being Wolsey in 1529.

As we have seen, Winchester continued in favour with the reigning houses long after it had ceased to be a royal residence.  Here Henry I was married to the Saxon Matilda, and here in the closing years of his life the aged Wykeham married Henry IV and Joan of Navarre; and here, too, came Philip of Spain and Henry VIII’s sad daughter, Mary of England, to be wedded before the high altar, the chair on which the royal bride sat being still shown to visitors.

For the architectural student the plan of the cathedral is not the least interesting feature of the building, for although it has an ambulatory which is semicircular internally, the plan is in other respects rather exceptional.  It is what architects call a periapsidal plan, meaning that its eastern termination contains a processional aisle or ambulatory, designed mainly for the purpose of allowing a procession to pass round the high altar without entering the presbytery.  In the crypt of Winchester Cathedral the plan of the early Norman church may be seen sui generis.  A rather exceptional feature is that the eastern ambulatory is semicircular within but rectangular without, although the long chapel that projects from this ambulatory has an apsidal, not a rectangular, termination.

To the receptive mind all our ancient cathedrals, and a few of our modern ones, possess a subtle atmosphere of their own, indescribable but plainly felt, both within and without their walls.  In such an atmosphere we lose sight of the Winchester of to-day.  It becomes ancient, ecclesiastical, historical, learned, and romantic.  Here we return in imagination to the scenes of the Middle Ages, when love was attested by chivalrous deeds of arms done in honour of bright eyes, and poetry sounded its lyre in praise of him who had been most devoted to his Church, most faithful to his mistress, and most loyal to his king.  As a whole, this Cathedral of Winchester is a vast building, simple almost to a fault, yet one that possesses a solemn repose unspeakably restful to mind and spirit—­a sense of undisturbed harmony and refined yet massive simplicity.  Towards eventide the shadows of the turrets and pinnacles creep, day by day, over the surrounding bands of greensward, their cool greys advancing inch by inch until they reach the spacious pavements, whereon they cast the symbols of our Christian faith in ruddy trefoil-headed slants of glory.

Whatever else is omitted from the history of the Cathedral, mention must be made of the valiant efforts that have been and are still being made to preserve the stability of the structure.  A few years ago the east end showed signs of subsidence, and ominous cracks appeared in the north transept, a part of the old Norman church.  An examination of the fabric proved that herculean tasks were essential to save this portion of the edifice.