St Benedict's, Lincoln
Join me in the summer of 2020, looking around a church that absolutely should not still exist.
St Benedict’s is an ancient church, one of the oldest in Lincoln, a city full of ancient churches. It’s also one of the smallest, having been severely damaged during the Civil War and never fully restored. All that’s left these days is the chancel, with a north chapel, and a later tower, built to mimic the other Norman towers in the city.
From the outside the architectural chaos is apparent, with a window half-sticking up above the roofline, and walls half-brick, half-stone.
When I visited the church had been closed for two years, and the carpet inside was crisp with filth, with a strong smell of birdshit and decay. But hope was present, the Lincoln Street Pastors had begun taking over the space as a base, and hi-vis jackets littered folding tables to the west.
The light in the church was very special, in and of itself, pouring through clear glass windows, and scattering across the chaos left behind by the end of ministry.
For some reason - lingering respect, perhaps - though the west end was full of the paraphernalia left by the Street Pastors, the east end was strangely untouched.
A half-burned candle, lidded font, cross quietly gleaming, icons at rest, those little cards still tucked behind the ribbons of a prayer request board.
If you ignored the smell, and kept facing east, it was easy to believe that services could happen here at any moment; that despite the dust, the priest had just stepped out, soon to return.
Atmosphere aside, this is a strange church, this ancient building still scarred from the tremendous damage sustained in the English Civil War, and altered, again and again, over time.
I often call churches Architectural Murder Mysteries, and this is a real classic of the genre, with huge questions still remaining as to who knocked down what, and when.
Let’s begin our investigation with a look at the clues…
A great arch, in the west wall, now blocked.
A beautiful tomb canopy, now empty, and damaged.
The memory of a window, perhaps, flanked by finely carved wooden corbels, holding up the roof.
The roof itself, of two very different ages.
And, most confusingly of all, a low sloping roofline, cutting a gash across the wall, that window we saw at the beginning, half-above the roofline itself, a second great archway, now half-blocked… Just… Chaos.
The quality of work in this building speaks of a rich church, one much larger than the present building; those corbels, the column capitals, the tomb canopy, they are clear clues. Records show St Benedict’s once had huge numbers of chantry chapels, and priests to tend them. Then, the reformation. She survived, fairly intact, by most accounts, perhaps losing a chantry chapel completely, perhaps just losing decorations and dedications, with the structure remaining. Unfortunately, after that came the Civil War.
Lincoln suffered horribly during the English Civil War, being besieged and looted in the 1640’s. A rich church, close to the high bridge was, of course, endangered by the siege. It is thought that the tower and nave of the church were lost at this point, damaged to the point of demolition by the fighting (hence the great blocked archways). All that remains today is the chancel, holding ghostly remnants of what once was.
After the fighting, the tower was rebuilt, probably some time in the 1670’s, centrally against what was now west wall. They copied the towers of other Saxon churches in Lincoln, the faithful recreation utterly confusing historians for some time. It’s thought bits of the demolished nave were used to make the tower, adding layers of confusion atop layers of confusion.
When I left, on that sunny day in 2020, the fate of the church was unsettled, but, even here, there is hope.
After the Street Pastors left this temporary home for a cleaner, drier, warmer, hq, the church was given over to the use of a bookshop. Photos from this year (2023) show a new carpet, clean, and covered in bookshelves, the walls free of matted dust-clogged cobwebs, the lighting bright.
Who knows what the future holds for this strange old place, but for now, at least, the derelict shell I saw in 2020 is once again full of life, and that is hope for us all.
