Rufus was buried, "with many looking on and few grieving." In the north
aisle a memorial stone covers the grave of Jane Austen and a great
window to her memory sends its many-colored shafts of light from above.
In the south transept rests Ike Walton, prince of fishermen, who, it
would seem to us, must have slept more peacefully by some rippling
brook. During the Parliamentary wars Winchester was a storm center and
the cathedral suffered severely at the hands of the Parliamentarians.
Yet fortunately, many of its ancient monuments and furnishings escaped
the wrath of the Roundhead iconoclasts. The cathedral is one of the
oldest in England, having been mainly built in the Ninth Century.
Recently it has been discovered that the foundations are giving away to
an extent that makes extensive restoration necessary, but it will be
only restored and not altered in any way.

But we may not pause long to tell the story of even Winchester Cathedral
in this hasty record of a motor flight through Britain. And, speaking
of the motor car, ardent devotee as I am, I could not help feeling a
painful sense of the inappropriateness of its presence in Winchester; of
its rush through the streets at all hours of the night; of its clatter
as it climbed the steep hills in the town; of the blast of its unmusical
horn; and of its glaring lights, falling weirdly on the old buildings.
It seemed an intruder in the capital of King Alfred.

There is much else in Winchester, though the cathedral and its
associations may overshadow everything. The college, one of the earliest
educational institutions in the Kingdom, was founded about 1300, and
many of the original buildings stand almost unchanged. The abbey has
vanished, though the grounds still serve as a public garden; and of
Wolvesley Palace, a castle built in 1138, only the keep still stands.
How usual this saying, "Only the keep still stands," becomes of English