Under the passage which leads from the Cross to the “Square” is the door to St. Lawrence’s Church, a building curiously inserted among houses. It reminds us of the way in which Winchester was in olden times honey-combed with churches and chapels. This is considered to be the mother church of Winchester, the bishop is inducted here, and goes into the tower to ring the bell. Most of the present edifice is modern, but the tower and east window are of the fifteenth century. Opposite the entrance to this church is a piece of Norman stone-work with some ornamental carving upon it--the only specimen of the domestic architecture of that date in Winchester--perhaps a part of the palace built here by William the Conqueror, which extended up this side of the High Street,[35] and across to Minster Street and Lane. The foundations of an ancient tower of “prodigious strength” were found at the beginning of the present century by a workman digging in Market Street. We are now close to the “Square” where the Saxon palace probably stood. [Sidenote: The Name of England.] The Saxon period was in one respect the most remarkable in Winchester, for the city was then the capital of Wessex, and Wessex became the mother of England. We read in the old chroniclers that Egbert was crowned in Winchester Cathedral the first King of England, and that at a Witenagemot or parliament, held by him here in the year 800, it was determined that the name of England should supersede that of Britain. Egbert was the first who united the kingdoms of the heptarchy, and the probability that he changed the name is increased by the fact that “Anglia,” which is nowhere found in any document anterior to this time, begins to appear immediately afterwards.[36] [Sidenote: Alfred the Great.] But the principal figure that the Saxon palace at Winchester brings before us, is that of Alfred. He deserved the title of Great better than many who obtained it, for he was not only victorious in battle, but was essentially a scholar--indeed his successes were mainly the result of his study and industry. A shade of melancholy seems always to have hung over his mind, perhaps due to his constant physical suffering, though he writes:-- “To those who eat Honeycomb it seems more sweet, If a man before the tear Of honey, taste of bitter cheer.” In the following lines there is a touch of sadness worthy of the author of Ecclesiastes:-- “Why did your songs to me, World-loving men, Say joy belongs to me Ever as then? Why did ye lyingly Think such a thing, Seeing how flyingly Wealth may take wing?” Many are accustomed to speak despondingly of the degeneracy of the nineteenth century, but it sounds strange to hear Alfred condemning the luxury of his time, which we generally regard as semi-civilized. He looks back regretfully to the good old days:--