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 by the town’s wealthy guilds.

Boston’s wealth was by virtue of the status it had acquired by the thirteenth century as Britain’s second port as evidenced by the fact that King John levied a tax of  £780 upon it in 1204, second only to London at £836. It was part of the Hanseatic League and we will see evidence of this on of the church’s magnificent sixty-two misericords. At one point more than three million wool fleeces per year were being exported from Boston. It was also the main market place for lead England. The flat - and at that time flooded - fenlands around Boston could not be further removed topographically and geographically from the lead-mining areas of England. However, the River Trent, the Roman Fossdyke and Witham Canal and the River Witham itself gave a convenient route for the output of the Derbyshire lead mines that would have been hugely expensive to shift by the cart roads of England. From Boston it could be shipped by sea around the country. It also had the River Welland that could carry lead to the churches of southern Lincolnshire as discussed in one of the sections of my “Bums, Fleas and Hitchhikers” narrative. One guild stood out in the town here - the Guild of Corpus Christi. Abbots, peers, bishops and foreign wool merchants are recorded amongst its members and their wealth surely made a huge contribution to the building. They had a chapel of their own which as probably attached to the south aisle. The Guild was not was not alone, however: the Guild of St Mary maintained an organist, a choir and a grammar school and also endowed a chapel in the east end of the south aisle. John Taverner was possibly and musician and Alderman here.

The wealth of the town lad to the complete demolition of the original Norman church, the foundations of which are now underneath the south aisle. The building of the church probably took until 1390 and the tower took a further sixty years. Nobody knows how the tower became know as the “stump”. Could any structure be more inaccurately named? It is not only the overall height that astonishes: the interior has no first floor ceiling so the visitor’s eyes are drawn to the second floor stone ceiling some one hundred and fifty feet up and beautifully adorned with decorated bosses.

Structurally apart from the tower, there is little to excite here. The three westernmost bays of the chancel - where the building started in the traditional way - the aisles and the clerestory have attractive Decorated style windows reflecting the 1309 date. The chancel itself was extended by two further bays in about 1390, themselves in the Perpendicular style that was by now de rigueur. The keen-eyed among you will wonder then why there is then a Decorated style east window? It is a Victorian replacement. Pevsner who could be occasionally droll calls it “glorious” but qualifies his praise “...a copy of the Carlisle east window (in a Lincolnshire church an insult, if in this case not an injury)” . The point being that the Lincolnshire of Grantham, Boston, Heckington and Brant Broughton (to name but a few) needed no lesson in Gothic design from Cumbria! In which observation he was spot on. The trouble is - he was talking out of the back of his head - see below. The south porch is also noteworthy. It is two storey. The ground floor is in Decorated style and the upper floor is Perpendicular, so obviously of a later date. Th upper floor has, since 1634, has held a library of some twelve hundred books of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries but there are also one or two priceless earlier works.

The church has had a lot of alteration down the years, but nothing truly grates on the senses. The simplicity of the interior allows the full magnificence of the church’s proportions to be fully appreciated. It is the chancel that is the star turn here, however. It has cathedral-like fitments. The magnificent reredos was completed as recently as 1914 although it is not immediately obvious. It complements the true treasure of this church: the sixty-two misericords. Dating from 1390 they are one of the most extensive and unspoilt collections in the country. Yes, they do have their share of disfigurement but are largely intact and full of symbolism of everyday and religious life. As if that were not enough there are hugely entertaining figures carved into the armrests. The canopies, however date only from the 1853 restoration but, again, this is not immediately obvious.

Less remarked upon, perhaps, is the mass of original external sculpture. It is a madcap world that is represented, of grotesques and monsters that we can no longer fathom. In this, Boston is wholly in keeping with the Lincolnshire tradition. Some of the sub-parapet friezes here on the outside of the north aisle (and possibly the south aisle) and, strangely, in the cornice of the cornices on the insides of aisles and chancel are by the stonemason who in my “Bums, Fleas and Hitchhikers” narratives I call “John Oakham”. See the footnote below.

This is a heck of a church, A casual visitor will maybe spend ten minutes on the outside and fifteen on the inside. That is the sad reality of the majority of people who see the magnificence of it all and have no idea of the significance of what they are seeing. In three visits I have seen only myself, my partner and a church crawling friend look at the misericords. You, my dear readers should reckon on a couple of hours at least, Longer if you want to do the trip to the top of the tower. Those suffering from vertigo or bad knees? Don’t even think about it!

The view to the east end. It is simple ground plan that provides a real sense of space. The high arcades with narrow columns, and the enormous chancel arch adds to the sense that this is almost just two spaces: nave and chancel. The aisle windows are in the Decorated style, apart from the east windows which are Perpendicular style additions. This view would not have been uninterrupted in mediaeval days when there was a wooden rood screen.

Two views of the Stump. Left: The tower from the north east. One of the glories of the tower is its “lantern” top. Why was it there? Well. obviously it would have helped sailors looking for the port but it was also probably of considerable use to the denizens of the hinterland of waterlogged fenlands. This picture shows clearly that the original intention was to stop at the level of the intermediate parapet and then probably to add a spire. But the town in a fit of hubris decided to go further, adding two more stages instead of the spire. Sadly, the fine composition of the double windows beneath ogee arches is far from being emulated in the penultimate stage with its rather utilitarian four light Perpendicular style openings. The masonry is also conspicuously cruder. The lantern, however, is glorious with delicate masonry and tiny flying buttresses, presumably to spread the load to the tower walls and to stop the whole lantern crashing through the ceiling below. Photograph courtesy of Bonnie Killingback. Right: The tower from the east.

The Lantern in all its glory. You can see that great pride and workmanship has been invested here, making a curious contrast with the storey below. You can only imagine the challenges and hazards the masons faced in working so high up. And, believe me, any Lincolnshire resident will tell you there is little high ground between here and Siberia! No wonder it took so long to build.

The glorious east end. Note the choir stalls - with misericords - to left and right. The ceiling was added in 1909, Taken as a whole, there is much here that is Victorian: the east window, the choir stall canopies, the reredos, the ceiling. It challenges any “four legs good, two legs bad” approach to church architecture. Nothing here is less than fine and nothing jars the senses: those fourteenth century misericords do not sit within a sea of dross. Much Victorian work is pretty awful. Much of that is the result of the tastes of the congregations and clergy as much as some truly awful “architects” for whom this great swathe of church building and “restoration” must have been a real gravy train. If you could afford the best craftsmen, though, you could get some fine work as here at Boston. I think all church crawlers - indeed all history buffs - have a natural inclination to value more greatly that which is truly ancient. That is perfectly rational, not least because more ancient often equates to grater scarcity. Yet, we have to concede, I think, that some mediaeval work was pretty atrocious too. Norman fonts, for example, can be sublime. Others are crude and child-like. Child-like work by a Norman mason is usually seen as charming. Similar work by a modern sculptor would be ridiculed.

Left: The east window is Victorian and Pevsner says it is a copy of Carlisle Cathedral. Quite how he arrived at this conclusion. I do not know. It is not even remotely similar. The glass is of 1853 by M & A O’Connor of London. The Church Guide reports that the novelist Nathaniel Hawthorne said of it “the richest and tenderest modern window I have ever seen”. British readers may be unfamiliar with Hawthorne’s work. His most famous work (I have read it) is “The Scarlet Letter” which is about an adulterer who had “A” branded on her face by the unforgiving puritans of the New World. Hawthorne was a Customs Official in Boston Massachusetts - itself, of course, originally a new World settlement. It seems that is life there inspired both his novel and presumably his visit to Boston in England. Quite how many “modern windows”, Mr Hawthorne had actually seen for comparison is open for question! Right: Carlisle Cathedral east window for comparison. Nicky Pevsner, what had you been smokin’ when you said Boston’s window copied this this one?

Left: A somewhat wider perspective of the chancel with the flanking choir stalls. The reredos complements the “look” to perfection.  Right: The south aisle. The Perpendicular style window is by Kempe.

Left: The view to the west, The west window shows just how “vanilla” Perpendicular architecture could be. This, however, is a massive window so the great expanse of white glass is to be expected. The tracery, however, is the epitome of blandness. What is not obvious from this picture is that the colossal tower arch is in front of this window which we are actually seeing through the base of the tower! To the right you can just see a set of stalls - also with misericords - for the clergy. There is another set of three on the other side. Right: The fourteenth century tomb of a woman in the south aisle.

The view from the floor of the tower to the first landing. Faces peer down from the cardinal points. At the top we see the heavily bossed vaulted ceiling. We must wonder at the extraordinary hubris of people who would commission such a work of art at a height where nobody could really see it properly!

The tower vault in close-up. The agnus dei holds pride of place in the centre surrounded by angels holding shields and scrolls and beautifully-carved fleurons. Look carefully, however, at the second boss in from the rib in the five o’clock position. I spy a green man! Amongst all of this sacred imagery this mysterious and ancient icon still finds a place. This is a lierne vault - it has ribs (liernes) that do not spring from the main transverse or diagonal ribs. It is a thing of rare beauty, fit for a cathedral.

Left: The parish chest. Right: The font is by Pugin. I suppose it is asking for trouble to say so, but I have no love for this piece. It is a neo-Gothic pastiche, no matter who carved it! Note that the font cover is lying on its side. This was my first visit to the church and there were tow christenings being held simultaneously.

Left: The “Australia Memorial” tablet in the wall beneath the tower. Some of the names commemorated here - Bass, Banks, Flinders, Franklin - echo down through history.  I will leave you to Google them! Centre: This, believe it or not is, one of the original south doors. The wooden tracery imitates the Decorated architectural style of the day. Right: There is a heap more pictures to come of the woodwork here but this picture of sheer drollery - taken by my friend, Bonnie Killingback - is a delight. There are shades of green men and jesters but who knows what the carpenter had in mind?

Left: There is a great deal of sculpture both outside and inside the church, including this unusually lifelike lion. Right: A triple sedilia plays host to two coloured brass memorials.

heads and fleurons (above and below). The north aisle, however, has almost all fleurons, including long courses of what look like Lancastrian rose motifs (right lower). This is possible as the building took until the late fourteenth century. The chancel - the last place you might expect it - sees a mixture of fleurons and grotesques (right upper). They all seem to be the work of the mason I call John Oakham who is one of the subjects of my “Bums, Fleas and Hitchhikers” narrative. The cow-like grotesques were his main calling card in his work in many churches across southern Lincolnshire. His appearance here, a long way from where I first identified him in Oakham and Exton (both Rutland) and other churches in that area was a big surprise that was subsequently validated by his further appearances at Swineshead and Leverton both close to Boston. We see his work also on the outside of the south aisle here and possibly on other external surfaces.

Cow-like grotesques, south aisle interior cornice.

There are no fewer than sixty two misericords here and they are amongst the most spectacular in any English parish church. Nothing in Boston Church was executed by inferior craftsmen and the woodwork was very much no exception. I show just four here to whet your appetite but you can see almost the whole sixty-two of them by following this link. Left: One of Boston’s most famous images is this of a choirmaster flogging an unfortunate chorister, his book being used in a presumably futile attempt to save his posterior! Three of his companions look on. Perhaps their turns are to come? Right: An unfortunate bear is attacked by two dogs in a common misericord bear-baiting scene.

Left: A particularly spectacular St George and the Dragon scene. The dragon is one of the misericord’s “supporters”. We cannot see the saint’s head. Above the horse’s tail is a mysterious head. Right: I am indebted to one of the church’s managers (amongst his titles was “Head of Marketing” which tells you all you need to know about the prosperity of this church) for telling me that this double headed eagle recalls Boston’s membership of the powerful and protectionist “Hanseatic League” of ports.

The armrests and poppy heads are also a delight on these choir stalls. Left: A dog catches a rabbit. Right: This appears to be an old man capturing a bird. These armrest and poppy head carvings can also be seen on a separate page by following this link.

Fans of mediaeval architecture can be conflicted when confronted with art of a later era. Are we to ignore stained glass by John Piper and Marc Chagall? Should we despise the spectacular if bizarre painted chancel roof at Huntingfield in Suffolk? In Norfolk we can see churches with sets of bench ends by both mediaeval carpenters - often totally defaced during the Reformation and the Commonwealth - and by Victorian carpenters, often reimagining what was desecrated. It is clear that these later men had skills that matched or surpassed their forebears. Should we pass swiftly over their work? It is natural to value more greatly that which has survived from earlier eras but not, perhaps, totally rational. Why should we not equally enjoy Michaelangelo, Turner and Bacon? Each of you will have your own stance on this and certainly I decry a lot of meretricious Victorian work on these pages. But now let’s turn to the three pictures above which are of twentieth century roof bosses at Boston. I would contend that the mediaeval carpenters would have admired them. They were put up in the nineteen twenties during the restoration of increasingly unsafe roofs. The bosses recognise events in local history and things which made Boston the community it was. It is, in fact, as historical as anything else in the church. In five hundred years time historians will glean as much of twentieth century culture from these bosses as they will glean from the misericords of the fifteenth century. There are many of these and you will find a few more on a separate page by following this link. Left: A truly spooky grim reaper. Centre: I am not sure what this is, It is rather odd: a two-masted sailing ship with what looks like three cannon balls upper right. Right: Boston is firmly in the Fenlands that were not drained until the Dutchman Cornelius Vermuyden carried out the spectacular drainage works that still - with the aid of a few modern upgrades - keep the area dry to this day. With its sluice gates and wind pump, this boss surely celebrates this work while two fish look despondent on the wrong side of the gates! For a bigger selection of the roof bosses, follow this link.

Left: A spectacular sanctuary knocker. It is now affixed to the door of the tower stair but it must surely have once been part of the south door. Any felon grabbing this knocker would have had protection from his pursuers, although not, as legend would have it, indefinitely. It seems a strange and illogical concept to our modern eyes but it had roots back to Anglo-Saxon times and possibly it was first instigated to prevent lords, earls and thegns from summarily executing miscreants without due investigation. Nor should you imagine it was something easily circumvented. Kings regarded the continuation of the practice as part of their royal prerogative and even the noblest of peers could and were called to account by the King should they breach it. Centre: Stained glass in the Cotton Chapel. The chapel is situated in the south west corner of the church. The glass is in fact modern (1939) and the bottom panels commemorate Handel’s Messiah played here in 1807 and the attendance of the American Ambassador at the reopening of the Cotton Chapel in 1857. John Cotton was an extreme Puritan. He was minister at St Botolphs from 1612-33 but became increasingly radical, abandoning some basic Anglican precepts. Facing sanctions, he emigrated to the New World and became a prominent minister in the Massachusetts Bay Colony and found hugely popularity in matters both spiritual and temporal. Right: The nave ceiling.

The west doorway is in the Decorated style and very splendid. Sadly, the niches have been emptied. It is just one example of the “money no object” ethos that seems to have prevailed here. This was not the work of a jobbing mason,

South Lincolnshire had a big tradition of external carving during the high gothic era. It must have been a combination of artistic tradition, patronal emulation and inherited sculptural skills that made this possible. You can see examples stretching from Brant Broughton in the west down through the modern A17 to Boston in the east, taking in the likes of Heckington (arguably the best of all) and Sleaford as well as numerous lesser examples. Pinnacles and - as here - the tops of buttresses were favoured places for such carving and these two examples from Boston could have come from any of a dozen or more churches in this area. The subject matter is common - one might even say cliched - but the effect must have been dazzling before centuries of weathering took their toll. In this respect Boston has suffered quite badly. 

You can make of these what you will, but for me the concept is that these men always have a devil on their shoulders watching their every move and perhaps whispering encouragement to sin in their no doubt receptive ears!

Left: Once again, we must marvel at the ubiquity of green man imagery in English churches, This particularly fine example is at the base of a now emptied-niche on the south side of the church. Right: Who is this man hiding himself behind a hood mould on the south side? My view is that this is almost certainly the image of one of the stonemasons here.

To See Most of the Misericords including close-ups follow this link.

To see Poppy Heads and Armrest Carvings follow this link

To see a bigger Selection of Roof Bosses follow this link