The Cambridge, Ely, and King's Lynn Road: The Great Fenland Highway — Themes and Context

A Castle That Never Fell

Harper devotes a substantial passage to Cambridge Castle, but his treatment is characteristically unexpected. Rather than lament its disappearance, he praises it as 'a castle of the greatest possible success' precisely because it was never attacked. He contrasts its uneventful history with the romantic siege of Torquilstone in Ivanhoe, arguing that a fortress which never fell fulfilled its purpose of intimidation perfectly. This paradoxical logic is typical of Harper's method: he uses a local feature to challenge conventional assumptions about what makes history interesting. The castle's Norman origins, built to overawe Hereward the Wake and his Saxon followers, connect the site directly to the Fenland resistance that forms a recurring backdrop to the journey. From the Castle Mound, Harper notes, one can see the Isle of Ely rising 'like some Promised Land'—a view that William the Conqueror himself would have scanned while planning his campaign across the marshes.

The Legend of Stourbridge Fair

Harper recounts the origin story of Stourbridge Fair with evident relish, though he leaves its truth an open question. According to the tale, a Kendal clothier bound for London fell into the Cam when the bridge was broken, spread his soaked cloths to dry on the common, and sold so much on the spot that he made Cambridge his regular mart. The fair that grew from this accident was already ancient when King John reigned, and Harper traces its later transfer to the Corporation of Cambridge at the Dissolution of the Monasteries. His handling of the anecdote reveals his method: he presents local lore without endorsing it, letting the reader decide whether it is 'well founded' or 'a picturesque invention.' The story also serves as a reminder that the road was not merely a conduit for travellers but a stage for commerce, accident, and improvisation—themes that recur as he moves north through the Fens.

Roman Roads and Norman Foundations

Harper's eye for the palimpsest of the landscape is evident in his discussion of the Roman roads that cross at Cambridge: the Via Devana, running from Colchester to Chester, and the Akeman Street, linking Brancaster on the Norfolk coast to Bath. These ancient alignments, meeting on Castle Hill, give the modern road a depth of time that Harper is quick to exploit. He moves easily between Roman surveyors and Norman masons, noting that William the Conqueror's castle was built specifically 'to hold Hereward the Saxon and his East Anglian fellow-patriots in check.' The military logic of the site—commanding the crossing of the Cam and the approaches to the Isle of Ely—explains why the road remained strategically important for centuries. Harper's prose here is at its most economical, packing topographical observation, historical context, and a hint of the ongoing story of Fenland resistance into a few sentences.

Reading the Road Ahead

As the journey progresses beyond Cambridge, Harper's method becomes clear: he treats the road as a thread connecting layers of history, legend, and physical geography. The reader should expect digressions into the lives of coaching inns, the engineering of drainage channels, and the architecture of parish churches, all delivered with the same blend of erudition and scepticism. Harper is not a guide who merely points out sights; he argues with his sources, questions received wisdom, and occasionally indulges in a sharp aside about the discomforts of travel. The excerpts suggest that the book's greatest pleasure lies in watching a knowledgeable and opinionated mind at work, sifting evidence and telling stories with a wry smile. Pay attention to the footnotes and the asides—they often contain the most memorable observations.

Harper's road book is best approached not as a systematic guide but as a conversation with a well-read, slightly cantankerous companion. He assumes you share his curiosity about the past and his willingness to stop for a story, a view, or a disputed fact. The Fenland landscape, with its big skies and long horizons, provides a fitting stage for his blend of travel writing, local history, and personal reflection. Let his digressions lead you where they will; the journey is the point.

There’s a quiet kinship between Mr. Harper’s grumbling pilgrimage along the Fenland highway and the gentle wanderings of that other traveller through India. Both accept the road’s small discomforts without flinching, preferring honest dust to gilded scenery. I often shelve them together. India Impressions, With some notes of Ceylon during a winter tour, 1906-7. — Reading Companion seems to nod back, sharing that same patient, wry delight in a landscape simply as it is.