Bell's Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Lincoln: A History and Description of its Fabric and a List of the Bishops

In Short

This book serves as a dedicated architectural and historical companion to Lincoln Cathedral, one of England’s most significant ecclesiastical structures. It documents the church’s growth from its rugged Norman origins under Bishop Remigius to its expansion into the Gothic masterpiece known today. By weaving together technical architectural observations, accounts of influential bishops like St. Hugh and Robert Grosseteste, and records of the cathedral's narrow escape from destruction during the Commonwealth, the work captures the endurance of a monument that remains a cornerstone of English history and local identity.

The Story

The story of Lincoln Cathedral is the story of a building that grew alongside the shifting aspirations of the English Church. It begins with the arrival of Bishop Remigius, who founded the church in 1072. The early Norman structure was, by later standards, a fortress-like edifice—severe, plain, and built for durability. The narrative tracks the transition of this basic footprint as successive generations of builders sought to extend the eastern reaches of the church, moving the choir and adding chapels.

Central to this transformation is the influence of St. Hugh, whose vision helped guide the transition into a more sophisticated style. The history of the building is marked by both architectural triumphs and political friction. The narrative details the emergence of the "Angel Choir" and the construction of the intricate central tower, while simultaneously exploring the internal conflicts that defined the diocese. One such notable period involves the formidable Bishop Robert Grosseteste, a scholar of immense influence who clashed with the cathedral chapter over the scope of his authority. His struggle for reform—which included suppressing the irreverent "Feast of Fools"—culminated in a successful appeal to the Pope, solidifying the bishop's power over the institution.

The cathedral’s history is not solely one of spiritual growth; it is also a record of societal turbulence. The text describes the trial of the Knights Templars held within the chapter-house in 1309, a moment when the building served as a stage for international power struggles. Later, the narrative follows the cathedral into the precarious era of the Commonwealth. During this time, the building faced potential demolition at the hands of those who coveted its stone, timber, and lead. It was saved only by the intervention of local civic leaders who argued that the city would suffer if the landmark were razed.

The story continues through the Restoration, noting the efforts of figures like Bishop Sanderson and the antiquarian William Fuller, who worked to repair the physical and symbolic damage left by the soldiers who had occupied the church. The final arc of the history details the ongoing maintenance and modification of the fabric—from the loss of the lead-covered spire in a storm to the later eighteenth-century additions designed to stabilize the aging towers. The book concludes by surveying the cathedral’s interior, detailing the surviving monuments, the significance of the cloisters, and the storied collection held in its library. It leaves the reader with a sense of the cathedral as a living, fragile entity, defined as much by its near-losses as by its architectural brilliance.

How It Unfolds

The foundation of the fabric The narrative establishes the severity of the original Norman structure, emphasizing its strength and lack of ornamentation. It contrasts this early design with the later, more expansive vision that characterized the cathedral's growth.

The shift in architectural style The book examines the transition toward the Gothic, specifically through the debate over whether the choir's design was uniquely English or heavily influenced by French models. Expert opinions are cited to argue that the craftsmanship at Lincoln represents a distinctively Anglo-Norman achievement.

The struggle for ecclesiastical reform The focus shifts to Bishop Robert Grosseteste, whose administrative battles with the chapter defined his tenure. This section highlights his commitment to discipline, his opposition to papal overreach, and his determination to maintain the sanctity of the minster.

The era of violence and survival The account moves into the seventeenth century, documenting the degradation of the cathedral under the Commonwealth. It highlights the threat of total destruction and the subsequent labor of bishops who sought to restore the interior’s beauty and dignity.

The catalogue of features The final portion provides a detailed inventory of the cathedral’s current state, including the reredos, the transepts, and the library. It concludes with a list of the bishops and a technical summary of dimensions, grounding the historical narrative in concrete data.

The People

Several prominent figures define the history of the cathedral. Bishop Remigius stands at the beginning, the architect of the initial, austere church who set the foundation for the site’s endurance. St. Hugh is the spiritual and architectural catalyst for the cathedral's expansion, representing the transition to a more elevated artistic standard.

Robert Grosseteste emerges as a titan of the medieval period, a scholar and reformer who sought to impose order on his diocese. His conflict with the cathedral chapter—who even forged charters to thwart him—reveals a man of relentless conviction who refused to prioritize local customs over his vision of spiritual integrity. His later clashes with the Pope regarding the appointment of foreign clergy show him as a defender of English independence against outside influence.

John de Welburne, the fourteenth-century treasurer, serves as a crucial figure in the material history of the building. His contributions, including the restoration of St. Hugh’s shrine and the installation of the choir-stalls, reflect a shift toward artistic patronage. Finally, the figure of Original Peart, a local mayor during the Commonwealth, acts as the unsung protector of the site. His pragmatic plea to Cromwell—that the city would be diminished without the minster—shows that the cathedral’s survival was as much a civic priority as it was a religious one.

In Its Own Voice

"To judge from the portions yet remaining, the building must have been severely plain; not a moulding softens down the rugged edges in those parts which are still as Remigius left them."

The author contrasts the initial Norman austerity with the later, more ornate phases of construction.

"The construction is English, the profiles of the mouldings are English, the ornaments are English, the execution of the work belongs to the English school of workmen of the beginning of the thirteenth century."

The author cites an architectural expert to debunk the theory that the cathedral’s choir was a French composition.

"The soldiers had lately knocked off most of the brasses from the gravestones, so as few inscriptions were left; they told us that these men went in with axes and hammers, and shut themselves in, till they had rent and torn off some barge-loads of metal."

A contemporary diary entry captures the iconoclasm and destruction wrought during the Commonwealth.

What It's Really About

The central theme of the work is the relationship between the physical endurance of architecture and the volatile human history that surrounds it. The cathedral is presented as a vessel for shifting ideologies—from the early, rigid Norman piety to the later, more complex Gothic aesthetics. The underlying question is how a structure of such immense scale and permanence survives the "hellish avarice" of political instability, the pride of bishops, and the erosion of time. By documenting the constant process of repair, modification, and restoration, the author argues that the cathedral is never a finished product, but a cumulative record of centuries of human belief, vanity, and civic duty.

Why Read It Today

Readers with a penchant for architectural history or a deep interest in English heritage will find this volume deeply rewarding. It reads like a meticulous survey, written with a steady hand that values factual precision over sentimentality. The warmth in the writing stems from a genuine appreciation for the craftsmanship of the past; the author guides the reader through the "soft glowing colours" of the glass and the "exquisite openwork foliage" with the eye of someone who has spent hours in quiet observation of these details.

However, the book is a product of its time. The prose is dense with references to historical texts, and the reader must be prepared to navigate a high volume of names, dates, and technical architectural jargon. It does not provide a modern, sensory-driven travelogue; rather, it offers a dense, scholarly foundation that assumes the reader is already standing in the nave, looking for context. Those who enjoy the feeling of being guided by an informed, patient expert will appreciate the deliberate pacing. It is a book that stays with you, not because of its narrative fireworks, but because it transforms a silent, imposing building into a crowded, vibrant, and precarious human achievement that is still standing against the odds.