The Ghost of Mint Lane.
Silent since bones were disturbed.
Bangings and clatterings cease.
[…] have a familiar name for the Thing that has [made its] presence heard and felt in the buildings which […] ancient burial ground extensions in Mint-lane, […] they call It (or He or She) “Old Joe.” […] premises of G.N. Haden and Sons Ltd., in which old […] picked up on the site by the builders, have been […] support massive oak beams, and in which an […] stone coffin is fixed as a key-stone above a door, […] some of “Old Joe’s” most violent activities. […] there hear a […] a bump, bump, […] run up to the […] investigate, nor
this is quite illegible but is in the Lincolnshire Chronicle, 3rd September 1949.
Relics of ancient Lincoln church?
(A 13th century stone coffin lid and six gargoyles were built into the walls of some buildings being pulled down to build a new Naafi Club.) The site is marked on the ordnance survey maps as the place where All Saints Church, Hungate, stood, and it is believed that the lid and gargoyles were found and built into the brickwork in modern times. They are not regarded as an important historical find, but Mr Baker said that future excavations on the site may give some idea of the foundations of the church, and any further discoveries are to be investigated. In one pit which has been dug there is a large stone which may be part of the church structure, and an old well has been uncovered in a basement of one of the buildings.
Before demolition work started, the site, comprising three main buildings, was occupied by G.N. Haden and Sons, Ltd., engineers, Arthur Richardson and Son, Ltd., confectioners, and G. Cliff and Sons, waste paper merchants. For years, workmen and caretakers swore that the premises were haunted. “Old Joe” they called the ghost. He was blamed for crashes, bumps and other queer happenings which were heard and seen, but could never be explained.
A few months ago, when a pit was dug to test the foundation, human bones were found, and for a time “Old Joe” was quiet, but two of the men on the job, employees of a Beeston firm of contractors, who are living and sleeping on the site, say they have heard him and seen the results of some of his activities. “One evening we were preparing a meal,” said ‘Bill’ Whitby, “when the frying pan, with some melting fat in it, turned a somersault on the stove. The same thing happened again, so in the end we held the frying pan over the flame until our sausages were cooked.” “Another night,” he went on,” we heard a clatter as though bricks were being thrown on a heap of corrugated iron which had been stacked in the yard. We dashed out with a torch – but found nobody there, and not a thing out of place. We’ve heard doors banging, too – doors that we knew were firmly closed when we left them.”
Lincolnshire Echo, 8th May 1950.
“Old Joe” still haunts Mint Lane.
Mr W. Whitby, one of the workmen demolishing buildings off Mint-lane, Lincoln, to make way for a new NAAFI club, pictured with three of the six gargoyles which had been used there to support oak beams. He is holding a thigh-bone dug up from the site, once a graveyard. (A “Chronicle” photograph).
Walk from Mint-lane, Lincoln, down a narrow passage to the doorway of works once used by GN Haden and Sons, heating engineers. Press the bell if you like, but there will be no reply, for the building is being demolished. But press it, just to make sure that it is out of order. While you stand in dark entrance, waiting, a strange face with bulging forehead, hollow eyes and savage grin will be staring down at you from the wall. The inscription underneath the rough chalk drawing will tell you who it is – “Old Joe,” the ghost of Mint-lane, the Thing whose uncanny presence rules the hearts and minds of the men who work on the other side of that closed door.
“Old Joe” is back again. In September, 1949 (says a “Chronical” reporter), I wrote that the strange events which had been disturbing Haden’s workmen had ceased with the discovery of old bones in the ground nearby. You remember the story – “The Ghost of Mint-lane,” we called it – based largely on the testimony of one man, Mr Alec Kempton, who was in charge of Haden’s workshop there. Now Mr Kempton and his men have gone, the machine that was inexplicably switched on by some unknown hand is giving life and noise to another building, and from new sources – demolition workers – I learn that “Old Joe” is far from being at rest.
The demolition work is being undertaken for the erection of a permanent Lincoln NAAFI Club. Other premises concerned with Haden’s in the clearance include the waste paper warehouse of G Cliff and Sons, and a store formerly used by Arthur Richardson and Son, Ltd., wholesale confectioners.
Human bones have been discovered at all levels in the five pits already dug to test the foundations, confirming the theory that the works all stood on an ancient burial ground. It was probably the site, too, of the Church of All Saints, as evidenced by the stone coffin lid used in one of the buildings as a key-stone, and gargoyles used to support oak beams.
Two of the demolition workers, Mr W Whitby, of Beeston, and Mr Ernest Glinka, of Long Eaton, sleep on the premises. This is Mr Whitby’s account of the latest outbreak. He said: “Doors that we have known have been locked have slammed in the night, and we have gone down and not seen a soul. One night we heard the sound of bricks being thrown against corrugated iron sheeting outside our room. We went down and looked all round, but there was no-one in sight, and no bricks by the sheeting.” He added: “We heard these bumps, and three days later someone came and told us the story of the ghost. Earlier, we knew nothing about it, but we were not able to give the noises any natural explanation.”
Frequently the noises came at about midnight or an hour or so later. “Only one thing has happened during the day,” Mr Whitby recounted. “We were heating fat in a frying pan to cook some sausages on a primus stove when the pan suddenly jumped off like this” – and he demonstrated, twisting the handle so that the pan spun half-way across the room. He continued: “My mate Glinka was just going out, and he turned round and said, ‘What was that?’ We put some more margarine in and started again, but it spun off a second time. The third time I held it on, otherwise we would have had no tea.”
The significant thing about that report is the way in which it tallies with the story told by Mr Kempton last year. Then, the starter motor on the forge blower was suddenly switched on, adn Mr Kempton went over and switched it off. Later that day the same thing happened again.
Both are typical evidences of the pointless frolics associated with poltergeists.
Beneath Haden’s building are cloister-shaped cellars, probably designed as malt kilns. Excavations have been in progress there, too, and digging at one point brought to light a 15-foot deep well with three feet of water in it. Bones have also been discovered beneath the floor of the kilns. Mr Thomas O’Mara, who is lodging at 68, The Park, Lincoln, has had the unenviable task of working down there by himself. “I have seen nothing,” he said, “but it was nervy being down there by yourself, knowing what we do about the place. I was glad to get out.”
Lincolnshire Chronicle, 13th May 1950.