Cory Santos

By Cory Santos corysantos

Giza, Paris, New York, Kuala Lumpur and Lincoln: what do all of these places have in common? At one point in time they all contained the tallest building in the world.

While our fair city may not have an Empire State Building or an Eiffel Tower, we do have a majestic cathedral more than capable of giving any building in the world a run for its money. In 1311 it did just that, beating the Great Pyramid of Giza to become the world’s tallest structure.

The cathedral itself was begun sometime around 1088 by Regimus de Fecamp, Bishop of Lincoln, possibly on the site of the old Saxon church of St. Mary Magdalene, which now occupies the area just outside Exchequer’s Gate.

While Regimus lived to see the completion of the original cathedral (though just as he died later that year) in 1092, the building itself would fail to last a century, being gutted in a fire in 1141.

Being extensively rebuilt and expanded in size by Bishop Alexander, this new cathedral also met its end in a natural disaster, being destroyed (with the exception of a small part of the west end and its towers) by an earthquake on April 15 1185 — the magnitude of which has not been felt in Britain since.

The rebuilding of the cathedral, under Hugh of Avalon (later St. Hugh of Lincoln, for whom the south-western tower is named) began in earnest in 1192 and completed roughly around 1235. While greatly enlarged, the structural integrity of some of the building work was questionable, and in 1237 the central tower collapsed under its own weight. This was to be rebuilt under the orders of Henry III in 1255.

A model within Lincoln Cathedral illustrating its former spires.

Some 62 years later, work begun to enlarge the central tower, and to top it and the other towers with magnificent wooden spires, capped with lead. When construction work was completed four years later, in 1311, the central spire reached a height of 525 feet (a figure which is agreed upon by a majority of historians).

This would have made Lincoln Cathedral the tallest building in the world, and the first to have surpassed the pyramid of Cheops in Egypt, which had held the title for some four millennia. This represented an amazing engineering feat for the time and a source of great pride for the powerful Bishops of Lincoln. This honour, however, would be fairly short-lived.

During 1548, the central spire, under the strain of both its cumbersome weight and a fearsome gale during a storm, collapsed and was never replaced, thus relinquishing the title of tallest building after a near 250 year reign. The other two spires remained intact, though their negative effects upon the structure of the cathedral ensured that sooner or later, they would need to be removed as well.

The spires themselves added significant weight to the towers of St. Mary and St. Hugh, the SW and NW, respectively. The strain of this weight was exacerbated by the bells within the tower, particularly Great Tom, the large hour bell, which at this time was positioned in St. Mary’s tower and the quarter bells in St. Hugh’s tower. By the beginning of the 18th century iron braces had to be placed upon the towers due to the force of the bells and the weight of the spires making the towers lean significantly.

By 1720, architect John Gibbs consulted with the Dean of the cathedral, and a decision was made to remove the spires and cease the ringing of the bells for the time being. Locals, misunderstanding that the towers, not just the spires, were to be removed, rioted and demanded that the bells be rung in St. Mary’s tower non-stop.

Further disturbances occurred four years later when the spires were again set to be taken down and the plans again scuttled. Finally, in 1807 the spires were removed, alleviating some of the strain upon the towers, though structural repairs have continued unabated for the past 200 years and probably well into the future.

While the structural integrity of the cathedral ensures that its magnificent spires are unlikely to return, their absence does little to hinder the beauty of one of the largest cathedrals in Britain, third behind only St. Paul’s and York Minster. A beauty which John Ruskin, the Victorian thinker, writer and jack-of-all-trades described as “worth any two other cathedrals we have.” It may no longer be the biggest, but in the minds and hearts of many, it certainly remains the best.

Cory Santos is a postgraduate researcher at the University of Lincoln who specialises in the social history of Britain during the Second World War. Besides his main research focuses, he also enjoys local history and the interesting tales it often turns up.

By Cory Santos corysantos

Perhaps one of the most interesting historical sights of Lincoln is one that may not even be noticed on a journey down the High Street, except for the brief bump in the road: the High Bridge. While not a particularly impressive structure to look at initially, its history and importance within the exciting, edge-of-your-seat world of English bridges is unquestionable.

A bridge on the site has probably existed since at least the 2nd Century A.D. when the Romans established a colonia on the site of modern Lincoln. The present bridge, however, is a much later addition, having been constructed in stone c.1160 (replacing an earlier wooden structure). The fact that the original Norman construction is still standing (minus some 19th century restoration) is of particular note, as it is likely one of (if not the) oldest standing bridges in the country.

High Bridge in Lincoln. Photo: File/The Lincolnite

Another interesting record held by the High Bridge can easily be seen on its western side. The large Tudor buildings (presently Stokes cafe and a pasty shop) that line the road were built in the 16th century, and as such makes the High Bridge the oldest bridge in England with buildings still on it, and the only one to have buildings older than the 17th century.

Buildings on bridges were common in the medieval and Tudor period (the most famous example being old London Bridge), but few have survived. Lincoln’s is now one of only three in England, the others being in Frome and Bath, though those pale in comparison to ours in terms of age.

While the old houses still remain on the western side of the bridge, the eastern side appears desolate, with only a few benches lining its side. The layout of the seating area (and indeed its raised position), however, helps to betray its previous occupants.

Stokes on the High Bridge viewed from the High Street. Photo: File/The Lincolnite

Some seventy-odd years after its probable construction, in c. 1235, the ford to the east of the bridge was covered over and topped with a chapel dedicated to the recently martyred Thomas Beckett, a popular figure of worship and reverence in the period. This small chapel survived upon the bridge for an exceptionally long period, some 500 years, not being removed until 1762.

In its place was put a large (and heavy!) water conduit, in the form on an Egyptian obelisk. This conduit served as a source for locals to retrieve drinkable water for daily use and existed on the bridge until just before the start of the World War II, when concerns about the impact of its weight on the bridge forced its removal.

While the conduit may have vanished from the bridge, however, it has not disappeared from the landscape of Lincoln: a replica was reconstructed in 1996 and placed in St. Mark’s Square. Another example of such a conduit can also be seen further south on the High Street, just outside of St. Mary Le Wigford church.

View photos of High Bridge through the ages on It’s All About Lincoln

Perhaps the most notable part of the High Bridge, however, is the famed ‘Glory Hole,’ a name that seems to be the source of endless amusement for new residents and visitors to the city. This tiny gap under the bridge was obviously created when the bridge was reconstructed in stone in the 12th century, but it was exacerbated in the 16th with the construction of the Tudor buildings on the western edge of the bridge. This has resulted in several issues which directly affect not only travellers on the Witham, but also citizens of the city.

First amongst these is the difficulty in navigating the tight passage for any boater. The second is the problem of flooding. During periods of heavy rain fall, the narrowness of the passage can cause the river to burst its banks and flood the surrounding city streets and pavements (some consolation exists, however, as the problems of navigating through the hole are alleviated, as it becomes inaccessible to boats). This problem has been somewhat relieved by re-dredging of the Sincil Dyke in the 19th century, though the problem still exists today and most likely will for the foreseeable future.

The passage itself was not always known locally as the ‘Glory Hole’. In the middle ages, it was often referred to as the ‘Murder Hole,’ as according to local tales whenever a body was thrown into the Witham, it would often be washed ashore either under, or near, the bridge. The name was changed to ‘Glory Hole’ to remove any connection to the grizzly nature of death and bloated corpses. The original term ‘Glory Hole,’ moreover, does not share the same meaning it is saddled with today (get your minds out of the gutter!). Rather, it was a slang term used to refer to the halo often represented over the heads of the saints and Christ.

Even the northern part of the bridge has some unique features, such as the vaulted storeroom under the bridge. These were most likely added when the water conduit was installed late in the 18th century and provided the buildings on and adjacent to the bridge direct access to the water for receiving and shipping goods. These have since been sealed, though they still remain in place.

So next time you take a stroll along the High Street and come towards the bridge, spare a moment to think of its great history and to imagine not only the great structures that once existed upon it (and in some places still do), but also the countless feet which have crossed over it since its construction some 900 years ago: the feet of artisans, students, entertainers, bishops, knights and even kings.

Cory Santos is a postgraduate researcher at the University of Lincoln who specialises in the social history of Britain during the Second World War. Besides his main research focuses, he also enjoys local history and the interesting tales it often turns up.