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Lincoln (1950)

 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.