Now, Corpus isn’t just “Corpus” for fun. Through the centuries, it’s also gone by St Benet’s College, borrowing the name from St Bene’t's Church next door-and for a long while, the church even doubled as Corpus’s own chapel. The college’s oldest buildings, in Old Court just beyond the gates, have been home to scholars non-stop since the 1350s. That’s over 670 years of squeaky floorboards and chilly draughts. The old sills and thick stone jambs used to hold lanterns back before panes of glass were common, and if these walls could talk…well, they’d probably ask you to please not spill your coffee.
But Corpus hasn’t always been quite so wealthy or elegant. Early on, it was a bit threadbare-almost as if it ran on ambition and borrowed candles. In 1381, it found itself in the crosshairs of the Peasants’ Revolt. Locals, and apparently a few students eager for excitement, stormed the college, made off with valuables, and burned the charter in the street! And if that wasn’t dramatic enough, in 1460, Corpus bought itself a small arsenal-arrows, artillery, even protective clothing-to fend off the occasional “tempestuous riot.” I guess back then, college life was a full-contact sport.
Take a breath for the silver! Corpus is now famous for being truly, fabulously rich in old silverware. Thanks mainly to their favorite master, Matthew Parker, who left so much silver and so many rare books that he made the rules quite clear: lose too many, and the whole stash would go to other colleges. You can imagine every librarian and butler counting spoons and dusting books as if their jobs depended on it… because they did. Some say Matthew Parker was so nosey about his books he started the phrase “Nosey Parker.” Not bad for a college rumor, eh?
Speaking of drama, meet Christopher Marlowe, perhaps Corpus’s most infamous student. He came in as a young playwright but left behind a few more mysteries than plays: was he a spy? Maybe. Was he a genius? Most certainly. Was he a typical college student who forgot his keys? History is silent on this (though I like to imagine so).
Corpus always marched to its own drum. During the English Civil War, it kept its silver safe by giving it to the fellows for hiding. When the coast was clear, the treasures were returned-mostly unmelted! Miraculously, Corpus stayed neutral while the country was at war with itself; it’s good to be Switzerland when swords are out, I suppose.
Let’s not forget the curious bits you can see and hear if you look around. Old Court claims to be the oldest continually inhabited courtyard in England, and right next door the church tower of St Bene’t’s is the oldest building in Cambridge, dating before the Norman Conquest. And just think, scientists once solved the mysteries of DNA in laboratories that you can spot from here-though they opted to celebrate their eureka moment at The Eagle Pub, which is still run by Corpus and famous for RAF graffiti on its walls.
Even in modern times, Corpus keeps changing. Women finally joined the ranks in 1983, central heating arrived in the ‘60s, and a breathtaking new clock-the Chronophage, or “Time Eater”-was added to the college’s facade in 2008. It only tells the accurate time once every five minutes. I guess even at Cambridge, time likes to keep you guessing.
So whether you’re peering at ancient silver, tracking literary spies, or pondering clocks that don’t care for accuracy, Corpus Christi is truly a living patchwork of stories. And now that you’re standing here, you’re a part of its centuries-long tale-just don’t let the Time Eater nibble away the hours before your next stop!
Interested in knowing more about the buildings, student life or the traditions and anecdotes
