The fall of St Andrew’s and the quiet legacy of Gaunt Street’s anchorite
At the time of the Reformation, Lincoln was suffering from 200 years of neglect. The Black Death and the loss of the Staple in 1369 had triggered a long decline in population—from about 4,000 in the mid-14th century to just 2,000 a century later. Once-thriving parishes were emptying, and by 1540, many churches had no parishioners. Formerly populated areas of Lincoln were reverting to agriculture, their stone buildings crumbling into the soil.
The Reformation had not only disrupted religious life but also dismantled the social and economic fabric of towns like Lincoln. The dissolution of monasteries removed vital sources of charity, education, and employment, leaving communities adrift. In response to this upheaval, an application was made to Parliament to unite the city’s dwindling parishes. An Act was passed in 1538 "for the union of churches in the city of Lincoln," authorising four men—John Taylor, Bishop of Lincoln; William Hutchinson, Mayor; George Stamp; and John Fowler—to carry it into effect.
A copy of the deed of union, dated 4th September 1553, records that the number of parishes within the city bail and close of Lincoln was reduced from fifty-two to fifteen. The process was swift and pragmatic, driven by dwindling congregations and the financial value of salvaged materials.
One of the doomed churches was St Andrew’s, which stood on the north side of the street now known as Gaunt Street. The Sutton family, prominent residents of the large house known as "John of Gaunt’s Place," petitioned the City Corporation to spare the church. They proposed to annex St Andrew’s as their private chapel and maintain it at their own expense. But the timber, lead, glass, and stone were worth money—and sentiment rarely outweighed salvage.
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| St Andrew’s Church stood behind the wall in the centre of the picture. The graveyard remained there until West (of West's garage) was built on the site in the late 19th century. Drawing by E J Willson |
The Corporation was resolute. The church was pulled down in 1551, and its materials were repurposed to repair the remaining fifteen churches. Some fragments may still survive, embedded in the walls of buildings that stand today.
Next to the church lived an anchorite named Isabella. Anchorites voluntarily withdrew from the world, living in a cell attached to or within a church, devoted to prayer and contemplation. Their entrances were bricked up, sealing them inside for life. Isabella’s cell would have been sparse—perhaps a small window for communion, a crucifix, and a stone floor worn smooth by kneeling. At that time, Lincoln had three anchorites: Isabella at St Andrew’s, another beneath the Bishop’s Palace walls, and one at Trinity Church near the bottom of Greestone Stairs. What became of Isabella after the church’s demolition is not recorded, but her story lingers in the silence of that vanished sanctuary.
Lincoln’s fortunes would not revive for another 300 years, until the rise of industry brought new life to the city. Men like Ruston, Clayton, and Shuttleworth transformed Lincoln into a hub of engineering and manufacturing. Where anchorites once prayed in solitude, steam engines roared and ironworks rose—marking a dramatic shift from spiritual retreat to industrial ambition.
List of the 52 churches and chapels in Lincoln at the Reformation, the ones mark with an asterisk survived, though many were damaged or destroyed during the English Civil War:
To view a map of Lincoln's lost medieval places of religious worship click here
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