Directly ahead, you’ll see a beautiful honey-coloured stone building arranged around a tidy green courtyard-look for the tall, crenellated tower peeking above the rooftops to spot Pembroke College.
Imagine yourself stepping back in time to a cold Christmas Eve in 1347-Queen’s favorite trumpeter playing in the background, and the wind whispering through the cloisters. This is when Marie de St Pol, a determined French countess, persuaded King Edward III to grant her a license to found what became Pembroke College. Back then, it was called the Hall of Valence Mary, and the students were known as “Valencians”-not after oranges, but after Marie’s own family name!
In the beginning, strict rules echoed through the halls. After all, Marie was no fan of wild graduation parties-she insisted that debts be paid up promptly, and anyone caught with too much ale or a loose tongue risked a proper telling-off. And if your roommate snuck off to a, let’s say, dodgy tavern, you were expected to tattle. No wonder Pembroke’s original documents almost read like a medieval rulebook for model citizens! Imagine the suspicious glances exchanged over watery soup in the dining hall.
Pembroke’s big claim to fame is its charming mishmash of architecture from nearly every century since its founding. You’ll see the oldest gatehouse in Cambridge and, if you peek at the chapel, you’re looking at the first one ever designed by Sir Christopher Wren-who went on to build St. Paul’s Cathedral. Wren got the job thanks to family ties and a rather dramatic story: his uncle, Matthew Wren, had promised during years in prison that he’d donate a new chapel if released. Eighteen years and one king’s pardon later, Christopher built this masterpiece, blessed in 1665-talk about patience!
Speaking of mysteries, Old Court-the main set of buildings you see-once held everything: the chapel, the buttery (where students collected their snacks), the master’s digs, student lodgings, and even a laundress and barber. So if you think college life is busy now, try sharing your soap and gossiping in line for the only medieval laundry in town.
Pembroke’s library is a treasure chest, crowned with a Victorian neo-gothic clock tower, and it proudly houses an original copy of the first encyclopedia with printed diagrams. In 1599, thanks to a very bookish archdeacon, Pembroke landed over 100 rare manuscripts, making its library a genuine time capsule of learning.
Let’s not forget Sir Robert Hitcham-a Pembroke alumnus who left an entire castle and sprawling Suffolk estate to the college. “Hitcham’s Cloister,” built from 1666, is named for him. Pembroke still owns much of the estate today. And as a sign of the times, in 2015 the college received a jaw-dropping £34 million from Ray Dolby, the sound pioneer. I guess you could say he helped Pembroke keep up with the volume!
The gardens, just out of sight from where you stand, are a peaceful retreat-complete with ancient plane trees, a bowling green rumoured to be one of the oldest in continual use in Europe, and “The Orchard,” a wild patch that likely holds a few secrets of its own. Some say Ivy Court is haunted by Pembroke’s well-dressed ghosts on misty mornings.
Student life is lively and steeped in tradition-Valencians still gather for candlelit Formal Halls where, if you don’t arrive on time for the Latin grace, you may miss out on dinner. There are societies, from a legendary football club to the comedic Pembroke Players, whose alumni have gone on to tickle many a funny bone on the big stage.
Pembroke was actually one of Cambridge’s first colleges to open its doors to women, back in 1984. These days, it’s also the only Cambridge college with an official International Programmes Department, inviting students from all over the globe to spend a semester, or a magical summer, learning and living just like the Valencians of old-minus the mandatory haircuts and strict room checks.
So whether you’re taken in by the medieval stonework, the hum of academic ambition, or maybe, just maybe, the creak of a passing ghost, Pembroke stands as a living patchwork of stories, traditions, and the kind of mystery that makes every stone part of Cambridge’s heart. Let’s keep our eyes peeled-history has a habit of peeking out from these old windows when you least expect it!
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