Lincoln, city of imps and imperators! Where cobbled streets have echoed to the tramping feet of legionaries, the clash of invading armies, the hysteria of pogrom, and more recently, the depredations of the student community.
Our journey there took us through damp countryside, as lowering clouds presaged a downpour. We crossed the mighty Trent at Gainsborough, and pressed on until our arrival at the Medieval centre of Lincoln, where church confronts state, castle faces cathedral, atop that great mound of feudal authority.
Inside the castle we witnessed the crude social-engineering of Victorian attempts to subdue the contagion of criminality. The prison chapel with its isolation stalls is a chilling demonstration of penal power, although if one were incarcerated with, for example Mr.Bean, the system could have had advantages. There is also one of only four copies of the Magna Carta on display. The castle wall provides great views of the city and cathedral, emphasising its strategic importance to warlords of the past, and is currently occupied by a dragon.
The nearby cathedral is a breathtaking Gothic marvel, attempting transcendence through stone and consequent union with heaven. For several centuries it was the tallest building on earth until the great central tower was destroyed in a storm, perhaps a rebuke to the phallic hubris of mankind. Those of an iconoclastic mindset, however, might consider that such an impressive collection of stone could be a massive boon to the landscape-gardening industry. Inside this edifice, amongst many greater monuments, not least the radiant stained glass, is a legendary imp, turned to stone after being tasked by Satan to torment the good folk of Lincoln. During the nineteenth century a new bell was installed with the help of child-labour. That is, children were secured to the outside of ‘great Tom’ in order to prevent him damaging the architecture, a kind of early bubble wrap in human form. Health and safety were certainly lax during the heyday of the Industrial Revolution.
The surrounding area has many attractive places to eat and drink whilst, before the braver souls tackle the dreaded ‘Steep Hill’. Involuntarily propelled by gravity, one can experience a parallel descent through the social strata of Lincoln. Impressive ancient buildings and antique shops eventually yield to Poundland and Oxfam, once one has literally crossed the railway tracks. Climbing back up the legendary gradient is a fun workout for the cardio- vascular system, if one is addicted to marathon running or jogging around Tibet. More recently, development has created clean but relatively bland shopping centres, and a university quarter of the kind that helps sustain and diversify many British cities.
The weather had been kind to us as we left behind the mournful tolling of cathedral bells, and only as we neared Doncaster did the threatened downpour finally occur.
Stephen Cuffling
