The father nobody liked.

Alright?

Whether Father’s Day is a fun, complicated, sad or awkward day for you, today’s secret story should be a fitting read.

Its protagonist is Father Ignatius, who was a father in the “Father Ted” sense of the word. It’s going to be a slightly shorter one than normal because, y’know, I have a dog and she wants to take me to the pub.

Some news: you might’ve seen Norwich Pub Tours in the EDP this week. Our first public Norwich Pub Tour - taking place on the afternoon of Sunday 27th July - is selling tickets quickly. If you’d like to get involved, click this link.

Who was Father Ignatius?

The first thing to know about Father Ignatius is that his real name wasn't Father Ignatius at all. His real name was actually Joseph Leycester Lyne.

Born in London in 1837, his self-rebrand summarised his views towards Christianity nicely. Father Ignatius felt that the Church needed to return to the good old days of the robe-wearing, incense-burning, bald-men-chanting-in-unison type of Christianity.

His logic for the return of monasticism in England was summarised in a pamphlet he wrote in 1862:

“Souls are perishing by thousands close to our doors. The Church of England, as she is at present, is wholly unable to grapple with the task.”

To put it mildly, this was not a popular stance.

Father Ignatius comes to Norwich.

Norwich in the mid-1800s was hardly a utopia, but things had moved on since the days of witch-hunting, cathedral riots and Vikings beheading kings.

Pubs were opening in their hundreds. Christmas was starting to become a proper thing. The opening of Jarrolds was only about 40 years away.

So it was a bit of a buzzkill when the robe-clad Father Ignatius acquired a premises on Elm Hill in 1863 and turned it into a monastery.

The people of Norwich didn’t like Father Ignatius. He frequently quarrelled with the locals and the religious establishment alike, not least because the Bishop of Norwich had refused him a license to preach.

To most, he was an extremist, hellbent (if you’ll pardon the pun) on restoring the old ways.

Most - but not all. Father Ignatius had some admirers. He was known to be very eloquent, and his dogged determination earned a begrudging respect from some of his opponents. Check out this rather loving description from Anglican diarist Francis Kilvert:

“His head and brow are very fine, the forehead beautifully rounded and highly imaginative. The face is a very saintly one and the eyes extremely beautiful, earnest and expressive, a dark soft brown…His manner gives you the impression of great earnestness and single-mindedness…Father Ignatius thinks every one is as good as himself and is perfectly unworldly, innocent and unsuspicious.”

Keep scrolling to see some actual photos of Father Ignatius to confirm whether this description is accurate.

The preacher formerly known as Joseph.

Father Ignatius left Norwich in 1866, just three years after moving there. He was nomadic by nature, so we shouldn’t take this too personally. His life followed a similar pattern:

Step 1) Move somewhere new.
Step 2) Alienate the locals.
Step 3) Repeat.

He died in 1908, at the age of 71. Some say he became a Zionist, British Israelite and got really into the flat earth theory, which feels pretty on brand for him.

One of the cool things about Father Ignatius is that we have actual pictures of him, too.

To me, he looks exactly like I imagined he’d look. Monk-like.

You can see 12 portraits of him on the National Portrait Gallery’s website.

If you believe in this sort of thing, you might still see him hanging around Elm Hill. Some say his ghost travelled back to Norwich (presumably on the slow train from Liverpool Street) and continues to heckle the ungodly locals and tourists who frequent the street to this day.

I’ll be back next Sunday. Thanks for reading!

Secret Norwich.