In front of you stands a grand sweep of cream-colored stone buildings, topped with towers and spires, the tallest rising to the right; look straight across the wide green lawn to spot the impressive Gothic gatehouse which marks the entrance to St John’s College.
Welcome to St John’s College, the jewel at the heart of Cambridge, where stories echo through stone and dreams seem to bounce right off the ancient lawns! Take a deep breath and imagine yourself stepping back five hundred years. The stately college in front of you was founded in 1511 by Lady Margaret Beaufort, the fierce and clever mother of King Henry VII-imagine someone who could outwit Tudor rulers before breakfast. Thanks to her, and her determined bishop John Fisher, these dignified courts were born out of a crumbling medieval hospital. You can almost hear the echo of the monks’ footfalls on chilly flagstones, centuries ago.
St John’s has grown and stretched since those early days-twelve courts in all, more than any college in Oxford or Cambridge! The gatehouse that greets you is crowned with Lady Margaret’s own symbols: red roses, portcullises, and some wild, mythical ‘yales’ perched like stone security guards with swiveling horns. A statue of St John the Evangelist watches over the entry, holding a chalice-the college’s spiritual patron, but also a reminder that legends and superstition run deep here.
That Great Gate opens into First Court, where stone walls witnessed the stormy history of England. Imagine: royal visits, the hall swept by the sound of Queen Elizabeth I and her royal horses trotting right through on a stately visit-she wasn’t even asked to wipe her hooves! And then there are wartime whispers-in the 1640s, parts of the court were turned into a prison during the English Civil War. Students today might moan about exams, but no one’s expecting the guards to lock the doors at dusk anymore.
St John’s has its share of mysteries and legends. Be careful where you linger too long-some say the ghost of James Wood, a former student so poor he used to study by the light in the stairwell, still haunts the Second Court. If you hear moans and groans, don’t panic… though you might want to steer clear of the shadowy corners just in case.
The college’s buildings are nothing short of breathtaking. The old library’s oriel window gazes out onto the River Cam. New Court, called the “Wedding Cake” for its decorative style, is more flamboyant than the strict, geometrical Tudor courts-you’ll find battlements, spires, and a clock tower with no clock faces, which is either a mischievous prank or a case of classic Cambridge rivalry with Trinity next door. Speaking of rivalry, don’t bring up “J staircases” to a Trinity student, or they’ll launch into tales about missing alphabets and sneaky competition.
Wander over the famous Bridge of Sighs, so named not for sorrow but for the sighs of relief from students after exams. The Hall-lined with 16th-century woodwork, echoing with laughter during feasts-is watched over by the arms of benefactors and the painted ceiling beams. In spring, the gardens come alive and the sound of choirs drifts from the chapel, where music has stirred the hearts of scholars for centuries.
Inside these walls, you’re in good company. Romantic poet William Wordsworth strolled here, as did abolitionists Wilberforce and Clarkson-men who changed the world for the better. Nobel Prize winners have bent over their books here, and even a few princes have practiced punting on the river.
If you listen closely, you might catch the gentle chant of grace before dinner or the Choir’s soaring harmonies, blending centuries of tradition with modern voices. Here in St John’s, every stone has a secret, every echo is a story, and every rumour might just be true. Who knows-maybe someday, your story will join the chorus!
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