If we come to consider closely the locality of each monastic institution, we generally stumble across a river, however small and humble it may appear. And why is this? Simply for the fish, which was carefully preserved and encouraged to multiply. Even to this day all monks, nuns, and strict followers of the Roman Catholic persuasion rigidly adhere to the observance of eating fish, instead of flesh, on every Friday and fast day, though nowadays it is not customary for them to catch fish in its natural element. In the good old days the holy friars had to depend principally upon the yield of the river for Friday's requirements, if perchance the monastery was situated far inland. Travelling in mediæval times was somewhat precarious and slow.

This monastery would be in all probability a wooden erection of Anglo-Saxon style. Philologists demonstrate that "getimbrian"—to construct of wood—was the Anglo-Saxon word for "build." If this argument holds good, it accounts not only for the scarcity of Old English lapidary remains, but also for their peculiar character. Till the arrival of masons in 672 from the continent, the buildings had been composed mostly of wood covered with thatch. Only towards the close of the tenth century, with a better knowledge of stone-work, did architects develop a definite style in England.

With the arrival of the Danes, about the middle of the ninth century, the town was sacked, the monks were massacred, and the monastic buildings were burnt. For more than a century it remained in oblivion, till the combined efforts of Ethelwold, Bishop of Winchester, King Edgar, and his wealthy chancellor Adulph, produced a monastery, over which, in recognition of his pecuniary assistance, Adulph was made abbot. As usual, the Norman Conquest left its mark in the shape of a castle to protect the town, and to instil wholesome awe in the English. It was early in the reign of Henry I. that a fire caused great injury to the town and monastery. Though deplorable, as it at first appeared, it nevertheless gave birth to the present Norman cathedral church, which Abbot Salisbury commenced to build in 1118, two years after the accident. At the same time the site of the town was transferred from the eastern side of the monastery to the present situation north of the Nene.

Six years before the death of Henry VIII., to wit, in 1541, Peterborough was separated from the Diocese of Lincoln and was created into an episcopal see. The last abbot of Peterborough was appointed first bishop, with the abbot's house as the episcopal palace, and the monastery church as the cathedral. To this building, the Norman effort of Abbot Salisbury, was grafted the architecture of the Early English style. No pen can so adequately describe the magnificence of the west front of this cathedral as the brush of Mr. Collins. This artist has done full justice to his subject, which has evidently been a work of love to him. In his rendering he has both successfully caught the true spirit of the church's grandeur, and has managed to incorporate his distinct individuality. Mr. Collins has shown the same qualities with regard to the "market-place."

The three lofty and beautiful arches of this west front are Early English. Perhaps a jarring note to its fine composition is the small porch, over which there is a chapel to St. Thomas à Becket.

A square tower at the north-west angle and another similar one at the south-west angle of the nave enrich the general effect. The nave itself is Norman, and is separated from the aisles by finely clustered piers and arches of the same style, but lighter than usual in character.

The east end is circular, and there are several chapels of the English style subsequent to the Early English. They are elegantly designed with fan tracery, and the windows, since their original foundation, appear to have been enriched with tracery.

On the south side there is the shrine to St. Tibba, and close to it Mary Queen of Scots was buried. Her remains were afterwards exhumed and removed to Westminster.