2 weeks ago
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When we think of Lincoln, our eyes are naturally drawn upwards. We look to the soaring towers of the Cathedral or the imperious walls of the Castle, standing guard over the city as they have for centuries.
Or even walking up to these via the historic Steep Hill.
But if you are anything like me—always itching to see what lies just off the beaten track—you’ll find that the true heart of the county beats a little further down the road.
On my recent trip to the city, I took a walk up Burton Road, leaving the tourist bustle of the Bailgate behind. My destination was a red-brick fortress that looks for all the world like it’s ready to withstand a siege.
This is the Museum of Lincolnshire Life, and believe me, it is the definition of a “hidden gem.”
The Fortress of the Fens
The building itself is the first exhibit. Built in 1857 as the barracks for the Royal North Lincoln Militia, it has a wonderful, rugged austerity.
As a photographer, I was immediately drawn to the textures—the weathered red brick, the castellated gatehouse, and the iron-pillared arches in the reception.
It was built to house soldiers, and you can still feel that discipline in the “bones” of the structure.
But while the walls were built to keep people out (or in!), today they invite us to uncover the lives of the everyday folk who made this county what it is.
The Iron Warrior: The Mystery of “Daphne”
If you have an interest in engineering or military history, you might know that Lincoln is the birthplace of the tank. But the machine sitting in the museum’s industrial hall has a detective story attached to it that I absolutely love.
For over thirty years, everyone believed this World War I tank was a training vehicle named “Flirt II.” It was only recently, during some filming inside the hull, that a sharp-eyed researcher spotted a serial number plate: 2743.
This wasn’t Flirt. This was “Daphne”.
Unlike the presentation tank she was mistaken for, Daphne was a warrior. She is a Mark IV “Female” tank (armed with machine guns rather than cannons) and she served with the 12th Company at the Battle of Passchendaele in 1917.
Standing next to her, seeing the mud-unditching beam still chained to her side, you get a shivering sense of the reality of that war. She isn’t just a museum piece; she’s a survivor.
The Beechey Boys: A Mother’s Heartbreak
Moving from the industrial machinery of war to the personal cost, I found myself lingering in the Royal Lincolnshire Regiment galleries.
The reconstruction of the WWI trench is incredibly atmospheric, but it was a simple display of letters that stopped me in my tracks.
These belonged to the Beechey family of Avondale Street. Amy Beechey sent eight sons to fight in the Great War. Only three came home.
Reading their letters—chatting about socks, food, and the weather while sitting in the mud of the Western Front—is heartbreaking.
There is a famous quote from Amy, displayed near the letters. When offered an honour by the King for her sacrifice, she reportedly said: “It was no sacrifice, Ma’am, I did not give them willingly”.
It’s a powerful reminder that history is made of families, not just armies.
A Walk Down Victorian Street
To lighten the mood, I headed to the museum’s recreated Victorian Street. This isn’t just a set; the shops are rescued realities from the past.
My favourite was Castelow’s Chemist. It’s beautiful, with its mahogany counters and glass “carboys” of coloured water.
But it’s the story of the owner, Mr. Castelow, that tickled me. Apparently, he refused to wear a modern white lab coat, serving customers in his Edwardian waistcoat and stiff collar right up until the 1970s!.
Keep an eye out for a fascinating, if slightly gruesome, item in the chemist’s window: a wooden prosthetic leg belonging to a Mr. E. Plumber.
He lost his leg to a reaper machine in the 1870s when he was just four years old, and this wooden peg served him for decades. It’s a stark link to the dangers of the agricultural life that defines so much of this county.
The Cathedrals of the Fields
Speaking of agriculture, for those of us who love a country walk, the back of the museum feels like home. The collection of farm machinery is staggering.
There’s something sculptural about the rusting iron of the Field Marshall tractors and the giant Ruston-Bucyrus excavators.
These are the machines that drained the Fens and ploughed the Wolds. Seeing them up close, you appreciate the sheer physical graft involved in putting food on our tables in centuries past.
A Pause for Tea (and Cake!)
No BaldHiker outing is complete without a pit stop. The Gatehouse Tearoom at the entrance is a lovely spot. It’s unpretentious and cosy—perfect for a pot of tea and a slice of cake after exploring the cold barracks.
Just behind the museum, you might also spot Ellis Mill. It’s the last survivor of nine windmills that once stood on this ridge.
It’s run by volunteers, so opening times can be sporadic (usually weekends), but it makes for a fantastic photo against the skyline.
(And if all this talk of food has made you hungry, you really should look up the history of Lincolnshire Plum Loaf, it’s a local fruit loaf that has been fuelling farm workers in this county since 1901!)
Planning Your Visit
If you’re planning a trip, here are a few practical tips to make the most of it:
- It’s Free! Admission is free, which is amazing value for a family day out. (They only charge for special event days).
- Watch the Calendar: The museum is open Friday to Tuesday (10:00 am – 4:00 pm). It is closed on Wednesdays and Thursdays, so don’t get caught out!.
- Family Friendly: There’s a “History Hunters” playground for the kids to burn off steam, and the museum is very accessible for pushchairs and wheelchairs.
- Dogs: While I love taking my dogs on the trails, note that only assistance dogs are allowed inside the museum buildings.
The Museum of Lincolnshire Life describes itself as a place that “celebrates the culture of Lincolnshire and its people.”
I couldn’t agree more. It’s a place where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, and where the stories of the past feel just as alive as the busy street outside.
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