Stand here and picture Bridge Street as the hard-working road into Cambridge. About fifty metres north, the Great Bridge carried the town’s traffic for eight hundred years... and in twelve seventy-nine it was such a ruin that, according to the Victoria County History, “the carts of those crossing it fell into the river.” Not ideal for commerce. Better still, the keeper of the prison at the castle reportedly pulled planks out of the half-built bridge, then charged people to ferry across instead, making one hundred shillings from the trick - roughly several hundred pounds today. Medieval entrepreneurship, in its purest form.
Now look at the church beside you. The Round Church dates from around eleven thirty and is one of only four medieval round churches left in England. But its shape is only part of the story. This stood on Via Devana, the old Roman road into town, and began life as a chapel for travelers. Tradition says the Fraternity of the Holy Sepulchre founded it, probably Austin canons - priests living in a religious community. Their man Geoffrey also ran the Hospital of Saint John opposite, where Saint John’s College stands now.
The building carries later working hands too. In eighteen forty-one, its fifteenth-century tower collapsed under its own weight. Architect Anthony Salvin restored it, gave the tower its conical roof, and Victorian craftsmen followed: Thomas Willement and William Wailes made much of the stained glass, and Robard Gurney cast one of the bells in sixteen sixty-three.
If you want to come back later, check the posted opening times.
Walk a few paces south down Bridge Street; Trinity’s Great Gate is the first big gateway on your right, and just beyond that you’ll slip into All Saints Passage.
