PETERBORO'.
Who that in other days saw the old, entertaining, and good Penny Magazine doesn't know something of this grand old place, and the cathedral with its three great west arches, and its central tower without a spire? This was a semi-holiday; it so seemed, for most of the inhabitants were in the streets, and at liberty. A pleasant day; but, though the 10th of June, it was cool enough to make our overcoats comfortable, and we wore them till noon. Valises deposited, this time at the station, we went direct to the cathedral.
It was a way we had. These great objects of interest are centres from which all other good things appear to radiate. Make for one of them and you make no mistake, for entertainment is at hand. You are well pleased; all thoughts are occupied; other persons are there before you, and are like-conditioned. Never one cathedral yet visited when we were first of the lot, or alone. The doors are always ajar and the verger in readiness, as though stationed there and in waiting for us in particular, even as though we had telegraphed that we were to come. Not at all officious are they, or over-inclined to get in our way. Never are they troublesome or interfering with even our thoughts, or quiet examination alone,—but tractable and ready, at the first overture on our part, to civilly answer any question, to explain, to tell us what we want to know. They are masters of the art of judiciously informing us that there are yet things hid from view that we can see if we wish, and how gently they name the small fee required. If there had been normal schools, or rather one, in all England, and it had been a requisite before employment in these cathedrals that they should attend the school, graduate, and then pass examination in the way of doing these things,—had this been done, no more propriety and judiciousness could be manifested.
We were surprised with the building. We admired it. We had been so highly fed on food of the kind we were getting dainty, but this was taken in with a relish. What a fine close around the old structure! How quiet! How varied its landscape! Well, the whole this time was enchanting, for it was unlike others. So many nooks and corners for pretty rambles; so many old walls and ruins about the premises; for very extended was the thing here in the centuries gone. We were in admiration with the grounds in their many departments; for once the cathedral itself was second; but soon we turned to the thing that makes the grounds what they are, and were at first sight struck with the good repair of the entire structure, and with its clean and solid appearance. The architecture is Norman and Early English.
It is very old, for the See was established, or rather the cathedral was founded, by Peada, one of the kings of Mercia, which was one of the ancient divisions of England. It was destroyed by the Danes, and afterwards rebuilt as it is. It is 476 feet long, with transepts 203 wide, and has a central tower 150 feet high, ending with lofty turrets at the four corners. There are also two small spires at the ends of the great west front. This part forms a section 150 feet in height and breadth, and consists of three magnificent arches 80 feet high, surmounted by pediments and pinnacles, flanked by the small towers before named; and in this front the cathedral is peculiar. It was begun in 906, and at the time of the Reformation was considered one of the most splendid religious edifices in the kingdom.
The interior is very grand and imposing. It is light-colored, almost white, having been restored, as it is called; which means that repairs have been thoroughly made in every part, and all washes, or tinted coatings, have been cleaned off, and as near as possible the work left in its original or natural color. There was a time, however, when all cathedrals had more or less of gorgeous decorations in fresco and high positive colors; next a white or tinted preparation covered all; and now, as that has been removed, more or less of the old frescoes show, but of course in a badly disfigured condition, and are only interesting as relics of another age. The probabilities are, the time will come when all will be re-frescoed in the gay colors of old.
At the Reformation everything savoring of art, in the way of painting in churches, was condemned. A great reaction seems to be taking place, and the church has discovered that it is quite possible to use and not abuse these things; and in some instances artists were at work in cathedrals, painting small portions as specimens for re-decorating the entire work. Some examples of frescoed ceilings are already complete. Peterboro' is now very white and clean, and the effect of its great interior is most pleasing.
It abounds in monuments, and many of them are of great antiquity and interest. Our statement must be so meagre that we dislike at all to enter the field of description, but will venture a little.
Catherine of Aragon, first wife of Henry VIII., is buried here; and it is said that on account of the fact of this being her place of burial, the king was pleased to give orders that the cathedral be mildly dealt with, and so it escaped that destructive action that so much injured all the others.
Mary, Queen of Scots, was also buried here, but when her son James I. came to the throne, her remains were removed to Westminster Abbey, where they now repose. The graves of these two eminent women were together, and now the verger tells us: "There lies Catherine of Aragon, and there next to her, and for years was buried, Queen Mary, but by reason of that letter," pointing to a letter, glass and framed, hanging near by, "her remains were removed to Westminster." We peruse the letter in the king's handwriting, and muse on the fact with a melancholy interest, and pass on. So much was this cathedral admired by King Edgar, that he bestowed such valuable gifts upon it that he caused the name of the city to be changed to Goldenburg, the Golden Town, which title at length gave place to its present name, derived from St. Peter, to whom the cathedral was dedicated.
The dean and chapter, by virtue of their office, exercise so much authority in the civil government of the city as to make it practically under their jurisdiction.
This being Whit-Monday, and a holiday, the cathedral was open free in all parts to the public, and hundreds were going and coming all the time we were in it,—a large part of them doubtless from out of town. We were thus favored with a view of an English town on a holiday, and traces were present of what gave the country the title of Merrie Englande. All the people were well dressed, sober, courteous, and full of enjoyment. Band-concerts and horse-trots were in order, and a balloon ascension in a park. The eating-houses were full, and from our experience of the results of the practice "first come, first served," it practically meant, that he that did not first come, was likely to be served poorly, or perhaps, what was better, not served at all.
Peterboro' has the honor of being the birthplace of the renowned Dr. William Paley, who was born in July, 1743, and died May 25, 1805. He was graduated at Christ College, Cambridge, in 1763; in 1782 was made Archdeacon of Carlisle. In 1785 appeared his celebrated work, "Principles of Moral and Political Economy," the copyright of which brought him $5,000. In 1794 was published his "View of the Evidences of Christianity," and in 1802 his great work, "Natural Theology." These works were long used as text-books in theological studies, and mark their author as one of superior intellect and of profound reasoning powers. While the deductions of his reasoning and arguments from given data are freely admitted, yet later thought—and the breaking forth of that light from the Scriptures, which the Pilgrims' minister, John Robinson of Leyden, expected would come—has destroyed some of his data, or premises from which he argued, and of course the results are anything but such as in his day, and as seen from his standpoint, appeared reasonable or right.
In the vicinity of Peterboro' is Milton Park, the seat of Earl Fitzwilliam. The estate is said to be a most elegant one, and freely open to the public at certain hours of the day. This custom is one that strikes the tourist very favorably, and always awakens a sense of gratitude. No cathedral or building of importance is ever closed from, say, 9 a. m. to 6 p. m., and facilities are furnished the visitor to examine all parts. Much of it is entirely free, and when a fee is charged it is a reasonable one, and only such as will prevent a rush of loafers to the premises; and the fee goes to pay the salary of the attendant, or for repairs of the structure. And now at 3 p. m. came another time for "moving on," so we took train for