Lincoln Cathedral, largely built between the late eleventh and fourteenth centuries, is best known outside dedicated ghost-hunting circles for the small carved Lincoln Imp sitting high in the Angel Choir, a piece of medieval stonework that has become the city's own unofficial mascot. Alongside that famous carving, local tradition has attached several separate haunting stories to the building over the years: a woman sometimes called Constance said to have jumped from one of the towers, an unidentified robed figure seen in a side chapel that some accounts describe as a seventeenth-century holy man, and reports of a ghostly procession of monks glimpsed moving quietly through the building after the public hours have ended.
None of these individual stories has a single well-documented origin in the way a genuinely investigated case like the Epworth poltergeist does, and the various figures described are often run together somewhat carelessly in casual retellings, blurring the boundaries between what might otherwise be several distinct traditions.
Guides and local writers have collected these sightings gradually over decades of accumulated visitor and staff reports, rather than drawing on any single investigated incident with a clear beginning and end, which means this is best read overall as the accumulated atmospheric reputation of a genuinely very old and very large building, rather than as any single haunting with a clean, traceable history of its own.
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