So far the see was not at Winchester, but was temporarily placed at Dorchester in Oxfordshire. Under Hedda, the fourth successor of S. Birinus, the seat was at last moved to Winchester, in accordance with the intention of the royal founder, and at the same time the body of the saint, which had hitherto rested at Dorchester, was removed to the cathedral city. King Cenwalh himself also on his death was buried in the building which he had completed. Practically nothing is known of the actual Saxon building, and the very legends are scanty. We learn that the city was ravaged by the Danes two years after the death of S. Swithun, but the cathedral itself appears fortunately to have escaped damage. The bishopric of Athelwold, commencing with his consecration by Dunstan on November 29, A.D. 963, has more importance in the history of the cathedral than that of his immediate predecessors. He was chosen by King Edgar to undertake the work of a new monastery in which the king took such pleasure that he is said to have measured the foundations himself. This work carried out at Winchester by Athelwold is described at great length in a Latin poem by Wolstan. No doubt the florid eulogy of the poem is open to grave suspicion where it concerns the details of the building, but, even when we make full allowance for poetic exaggeration, the church appears certainly to have been a large and important one. The poem in its first form is reproduced in Mabillon's version of Wolstan's "Life of S. Athelwold," but in its entirety it consists of an epistle of over 300 lines to Bishop Elphege Athelwold's successor. Some passages deserve quotation. "He built," says Wolstan, "all these dwelling places with strong walls. He covered them with roofs and clothed them with beauty. He repaired the courts of the old temple with lofty walls and new roofs and strengthened it at the north and south sides with solid aisles and various arches. He added also many chapels, with sacred altars which distract attention from the threshold of the church, so that the stranger walking in the courts is at a loss where to turn, seeing on all sides doors open to him, without a certain path. He stands with wondering eyes until some experienced guide conducts him to the portals of the farthest vestibule. Here marvelling he crosses himself and knows not how to quit, so dazzling is the construction and so brilliant the variety of the fabric that sustains this ancient church, which that devout father himself strengthened, roofed, endowed, and dedicated." Later Wolstan speaks of Athelwold's addition of "secret crypts," of "such organs that the like were never seen," of a sparkling tower reflecting from heaven the sun's first rays, "with at its top a rod with golden balls and a mighty golden cock which as it turns boldly sets its face to every wind that blows." More might be quoted, but it is sufficient here to refer those interested in the matter either to the