conjecture until the excavations made in the course of the works incidental to the rebuilding of the lantern tower (1883-1893) finally settled the question. Many students of the fabric supposed that the existing church practically followed the main outlines of the former one, possibly with increased length and breadth, but at any rate on the old site. It is now ascertained that the east end of the Saxon church was nearly under the east wall of the present south transept and the south walls of the south transepts of both buildings were but a very few feet apart. The dimensions of the former church both its length and breadth, were as nearly as possible half of those of the existing one. A description of the present appearance of the remains will be found in a later chapter (see page 80).

The Church of Bishop Ethelwold was not without its vicissitudes. Nothing was more promising than its origin, and the circumstances of its building. King Edgar and Dunstan, whom he had made Archbishop of Canterbury, were very enthusiastic in extending the growth of monastic influence in the country. No less than forty Benedictine convents are said to have been either founded or restored by Edgar. Bishop Ethelwold was entirely of one mind with the King and Archbishop, in the ecclesiastical reforms of the day. Mr Poole well describes the commencement of the work. "At Medeshamstede the ruins were made to their hands, and they at once commenced the grateful task of their restoration and appropriation. As usual, we find certain supernatural interferences assigned as indications of the divine approval of the work. It is related how Ethelwold was directed by God, in a dream, to go to the monastery of S. Peter, among the Mid-English; how he halted first at Oundle, supposing that to be the monastery intended; but being warned in a dream to continue his eastward course, at length discovered the ashes of the desolated Medeshamstede. It needs but little ingenuity to collect from this that Ethelwold, having received some vague intelligence of the present condition both of Oundle and Medeshamstede, started from Winchester, determined on reaching either or both; and that being less pleased with what he saw at Oundle than he expected, he extended his progress to Medeshamstede."^[6] The Queen is said to have overheard the Bishop's fervent prayers for the success of his object, and to have used her influence with the King; but he probably required very little persuasion to undertake what was so much to his taste. It may be mentioned that if we accept the date 972 for the completion of the re-building (the Chronicle gives 970 for its commencement), the very same year witnessed that well-known scene on the River Dee, when King Edgar held the helm of a royal barge as it was being rowed by eight vassal kings.

The King came to visit the monastery thus rebuilt under his direction. The Archbishops, Dunstan and Oswald, with a large company of the nobility and clergy attended at the same time. The King is said to have inspected some old deeds which had been saved from the general destruction a century before, and to have wept for joy at reading the privileges belonging to the place. He therefore granted a new charter, confirming all the old privileges and possessions. Since in this charter no allusion is made to the triple dedication of the church, but S. Peter alone seems named as the Patron Saint, it is not unreasonable to conclude that the first church of Burgh monastery was dedicated to S. Peter only, and that the dedication of the original minster to SS. Peter, Paul, and Andrew, was not repeated. Edgar says that he renews the ancient privileges "pro gratia Sancti Petri"; and that certain immunities shall continue as long as the Abbot and the inmates of the house remain in the peace of God, and the Patron Saint continues his protection, "ipso Abbate cum subjecta Christi familia in pace Dei, et superni Janitoris Petro patrocinio illud (sc. coenobium) regente." This charter is noteworthy for the title the King gives himself, "Ego Edgar totius Albionis Basileus."

For some time this establishment continued to flourish. But the troublous times that followed the Norman conquest did not leave Burgh undamaged. It plays a considerable part in the story of Hereward, the Saxon patriot. Situated on the direct line between Bourne, his paternal inheritance, and the Camp of Refuge near Ely, it was exposed to the attacks of both the contending parties. Brando (1066-1069) had made Hereward, who was his nephew, a knight; and the patriot might be credited with a regard for the holy place where he had been girt at a solemn service with the sword and belt of knighthood; but upon Brando's death the abbacy had been granted to a Norman, doubtless with the intention of making the place available as a military centre. Hereward joined the Danes, who had again begun to infest the district, in an attack upon the abbey. The accounts vary as to the time at which this attack was made. One says that it was before Turold, the Norman Abbot, had entered upon possession: another says that Turold had in person joined Ivo Taillebois in an attempt to surprise Hereward and his men in the woods near Bourne, but had been taken prisoner and only released after paying a large ransom. When dismissed there seems to have been something in the nature of an undertaking that the Abbot would not again fight against Hereward; but as soon as he was free he organised fresh attacks, obliging all the tenants of the abbey to supply assistance. In revenge for this Hereward went with his men to Burgh, and laid waste the whole town with fire, plundered all the treasure of the church, and destroyed all the buildings of the abbey except the church itself.

Though Hereward spared the church and went away, yet very soon afterwards the monks, possibly sympathising more with Hereward than with their Norman Abbot (who had left them for a time), allowed themselves to indulge in a drunken revel; and while carousing, a fire seized upon the church and other remaining buildings, from which Gunton says they rescued only a few relics, and little else. But, as Mr Poole has well observed^[7], "we must receive such accounts with some allowance; and, in fact, neither was the abbey so despoiled, nor the church so destroyed, but that there was wealth enough to tempt robbers in the next abbacy, and fuel enough for another conflagration." The robbers in question were foreigners who got into the church by a ladder over the altar of SS. Philip and James, one of them standing with a drawn sword over the sleeping sacrist. The plunder they carried off was valuable, but it was recovered when the thieves were overtaken. The King, though he may have punished the robbers, retained the goods so that they were never restored to the abbey.

That Ernulf (1107-1114) should not have done anything towards improving the church is a fact that speaks as plainly as possible of its being already in good condition. Had there been anything like the desolation that some accounts pretend, Ernulf would have spared no exertions in his endeavours to put things right. He came from Canterbury, where he was Prior, and where he had already distinguished himself as a zealous