Yes We Cam
Simon Rogerson
September 7th, 2025
I have recently returned from a couple of days in Cambridge where I again got the chance to enjoy one of Britain's great historic cities purely from the point of view as a tourist. Like any good tourist, I went to the famous sites and took in all of the famous sights that Cambridge had to offer. This of course included a trip to The Backs, that stretch of the River Cam where you can stand on one of the picturesque bridges and watch the punts go by while being overlooked by some seriously impressive college buildings.
Two things particularly struck me while I stood there and watched the world go by. Firstly, that punting is a young person's game. Or at least, trying to keep up your patter as a tour guide while physically propelling your craft and keeping your own balance is a young person's game. I could do it now, but frankly I could not be bothered. And with my balance, which rivals The Tay Bridge in stability, I would definitely fall in. Possibly taking the passengers of the punt with me.
The other thing is that the River Cam, at least in this stretch, doesn't look much use as a working river. Wide, straight and shallow enough that the punter's pole barely seems to enter the water before it hits solid ground. I simply couldn't imagine trading boats laden down with heavy goods making their way down here.
A stretch of The Backs in Cambridge. Picture from Wikicommons
The most impressive of the seriously impressive college buildings is the chapel at King's College. Although calling this building a mere chapel does feel slightly insulting to something that feels so much more than that. Building of the chapel begun as the country was hurtling towards the end of the Medieaval period. The college had been founded by Henry VI in 1441 and the first stones of the chapel was laid five years later. It would not be completed until a century had passed, by which point the country had gone through another two Henrys as well as two Edwards and a Richard, many of whom would take a personal interest in the building (albeit sometimes reluctantly).
The people at the time may not have been aware that they were going through end of the Medieaval period, this being a later and entirely artificial construction. However, those that went through the reformation, split with Rome and subsequent religious wars would certainly be aware what they were going through. And yet the chapel survived it all complete with it's perpendicular gothic architecture, fan vaulted ceilings and 16th Century stained glass.
King's College Chapel as viewed from The Backs. Picture from Wikicommons
I may have been enjoying my trip as a tourist but I couldn't help finding connections to my own historic British city. Which is why a couple of names in a side chapel caught my eye. On the walls were the lists of the names of the fellows, students and alumni of the college who had lost their lives in the World Wars of the 20th Century. Always a sobering sight whenever you see them. In amongst the names was Lawrence Edmund Rowntree, a surname that is synonymous with York. The Rowntrees, of course, have left an outsized impact on the city. Firstly with their grocers shop on Pavement and their active interest in education and health. Subsequently, and most famously, their chocolate works under the chairmanship of Joseph Rowntree (Junior) and perhaps most significantly Seebohm Rowntree's work on poverty and the family's decision to build a model village for their workers and found charity institutions that still have influence over the nation's policies on housing and poverty. My own personal gratitude to the Rowntrees is down to their founding of the wonderful park in the city that bears their name and in which I have spent many a peaceful and happy hour.
Lawrence Rowntree was Joseph's grandson and Seebohm's nephew who was born in York in 1895. Like other members of the family he attended Bootham School, an institution they had close links to and which was in keeping with their Quaker beliefs. In 1913, Lawrence left York for King's College in order to begin a medical degree. As with every young person in the country, any plans he may have had for what came next were thrown into disarray in August 1914 when war was declared. Quakers such as the Rowntrees were pacifists but many felt the need to assist their country and their countrymen. Lawrence joined a significant number of his fellow former Bootham pupils by volunteering for the Friend's Ambulance Unit, apparently driving his grandfather's car to Belgium and converting it to an ambulance and then using whatever he had learned at his year at King's to help injured soldiers. It is clear from his letters home that his experiences in the war were dangerous and traumatising. However, despite his religious exemption from conscription, by 1916 he felt compelled to sign up and join the Royal Tank Regiment. Lawrence was killed near Ypres in November 1917.
Memorials such as those in King's are important but the Rowntree family decided to go down a different route. Their reasoning was that if Lawrence, and all those others who lost their lives, were fighting for peace then peace should be provided. Rowntree Park was opened on the banks of the River Ouse in 1922 and gifted to the people of York complete with flower beds, children's play areas and sports facilities. But above all other considerations, the family were keen to stress that the park should a place of peace and for peace. A memorial plaque in the park acknowledges the members of the company staff "who at the cost of life and limb and health and in the face of indescribable suffering & hardship ... were inspired by their faith that this war might be the end of war - that victory would lead to an enduring peace & to greater happiness for the peoples of the world". I often think that Joseph, Seebohm and their family would be delighted to see people still using their park, over a century after its opening, for precisely the reasons that they intended.
Part of the memorial in King's College Chapel to those who lost their lives in The Great War, including the Lawrence Rowntree towards the bottom right of the picture. The seat dedicated to Eric Milner-White is shown at the bottom of the picture.
Below the memorial in King's is a seat dedicated to Eric Milner-White (1884-1963) , a man with strong links to both King's College Chapel and the city of York. It is likely that the seat is deliberately placed below the memorial to The Great War as Milner-White himself spent the war years in the trenches acting as an military chaplain, being decorated for his service. In 1918 he was appointed Dean of King's College Chapel, a position he would hold until 1942. He would also remain a Fellow of the College for the rest of his life. His longest lasting legacy at the college may well be the Service of Nine Lessons and Carols that he instigated and is still broadcast nationally every Christmas Eve.
After King's, Milner-White was transferred to another gothic masterpiece as he was made Dean of York. He was subsequently responsible for the post war restoration of York Minster, in particular refitting the priceless 13th-15th stained glass that had been removed for safe keeping during the fighting. In doing so he literately left his mark on the place as a recent restoration of the Great East Window at The Minster revealed his name had been surreptitiously scratched into one the panes of glass right at the apex, invisible to those looking up from below but maybe visible to those looking down from the heavens.
His impact in York extends further than The Minster. He was both a founder member of the York Civic Trust and was driving force in the setting up The University of York. He was also a keen art collector and on his death, donated a share of his collection to the City of York Art Gallery.
There is another link between the chapel and York. A link that perhaps raises more questions than it answers. As befitting a grand chapel with royal connections, only the best building materials would do. As such, the initial stone used in it's construction was the creamy white, magnesium limestone from Tadcaster that was also used to build medieaval York. The college even owned their own quarry in Tadcaster. However, the time (and cost) it took to build such a fine construction meant that most of the chapel was completed using a darker, oolitic limestone from Northamptonshire. A trained eye can even tell the line when work switched in 1461 from Tadcaster stone to Northamptonshire stone.
One question this raises is whereabouts in Tadcaster the quarry was but the question that intrigues me more is how this heavy, bulky stone was transported from the quarry down to Cambridge. It is possible in the 1440s and 1450s that some or all of the journey could be undertaken by horse and cart but boats would seem the more likely means of transportation.
From Tadcaster, boats could sail down the River Wharf until it joins the River Ouse and then down to the Humber Estuary. From there, it is possible that access the River Trent. Sailing upstream from there, boats could find their way through the East and then the West Midlands before shifting the stone to carts for a much reduced overland journey either directly to Cambridge or across a watershed and into a different catchment.
Another option would be to follow The Humber until it reached the North Sea. From there, the stone could follow the coastline of the east of England, waving to Linconshire and Norfolk on the way before reaching Bishop's Lynn, which since the reformation has been called King's Lynn. There they would find another River Ouse, this one known as The Great Ouse, that had begun its journey in Northhamptonshire before flowing through Cambridgeshire and Norfolk where it reached the sea. Sailing upstream from there would eventually lead to the confluence with The River Cam before finally reaching King's College in Cambridge itself.
This does bring us back to our earlier point about how useful The Cam would be to heavily laden boats. It turns out, somewhat unsurprisingly, that there is nothing natural about The Backs. This beautiful stretch of wide, straight, shallow water is an entirely artificial construction as the river has been shifted a considerable distance eastwards in order to accommodate all of those rapidly expanding and seriously impressive college buildings. With the river in a more natural state, the town had been a thriving and bustling inland port more than capable of accommodating a few boatloads of Yorkshire stone. Mystery at least partially solved.
There will come a time when I visit a place and enjoy it purely from the point of view as a tourist and start to desperately find connections to my own historic British city. However, when that time will come is impossible to tell.