Just ahead of you, towering high above rooftops and reaching toward the clouds, is a limestone spire so tall you’d swear it was trying to eavesdrop on the sun-look straight up and you can’t miss the soaring steeple of St Walburge’s Church.
Alright, now imagine it’s the mid-1800s in bustling Preston. On a bustling day-horses trotting by, the hum of textile mills in the distance-an ingenious architect named Joseph Hansom (yes, the very same fellow who invented the hansom cab!) is hunched over plans right here in Maudlands, just northwest of Preston’s city center. Maudlands sounds mysterious, doesn’t it? That’s because it’s a twist on “St Mary Magdalene,” whose name lingered here thanks to a 12th-century hospital for leprosy once nearby. Those must’ve been dramatic times: medieval priests, the sick seeking solace, and the land itself steeped in centuries of hope and healing.
But back to Hansom! He was asked to build something grand-a real showstopper-to capture the spirit and pride of the local Catholic community, who’d only recently regained the right to worship openly. And so St Walburge’s was born, dedicated to an extraordinary woman: Saint Walpurga (or Walburge), born in 710 AD. Picture her journeying, cloak flapping in the North Sea wind, by her two brothers St Willibald and St Winibald, off to Germany as missionaries. Walburge wasn’t just brave, she was famous for miraculous healings-a woman who made illnesses run for the hills!
Amid the growing prosperity brought by Lancashire’s textile mills, construction started in 1850. Imagine the clatter and clamour-hammers ringing, stone blocks thudding onto carts, the air filled with English rain and, sometimes, a cheerful whistle. Four years later, Preston welcomed a building so large it could fit a thousand souls, with a roof soaring overhead and fourteen mighty wooden beams. On each beam stands a life-sized carved saint, watching over you like an ancient security team (though they probably won't check your tickets!).
Now tilt your head back-the real spectacle is the spire. All 309 feet of it, built from limestone sleepers once used on the Preston and Longridge Railway. At sunset, the spire glows reddish, as if blushing from all the attention. Only Salisbury and Norwich Cathedrals can claim higher spires in the UK, but St Walburge’s? Tallest in England for a parish church. I’d say it’s Preston’s way of showing off without being rude. Speaking of showing off, within the tower there’s a giant bell-the heaviest swinging bell in all Lancashire, weighing in at a whopping 1.5 tonnes. Too bad you only get to hear it in winter, though; it’s down to some very clever birds who’ve claimed the belfry as their VIP nesting spot.
Trouble almost came knocking in the 21st century. In 2007, with changing times and dwindling funds, there were whispers the church might be closed down. Locals didn’t stand for it; they dashed into action with fundraising drives and grants to save this gem. The Victorian Society’s David Garrard called St Walburge's "an outstanding building by an ingenious and imaginative architect"-if that sounds like the world’s fanciest compliment, it probably is! Thanks to all this energy, the church’s doors stayed open and its spire still watched over the city, as though keeping an eye on mischief.
Fast forward to 2014. Preston’s bishop, Michael Campbell, entrusted the church to the Institute of Christ the King Sovereign Priest, making it a shrine where traditions could flourish, and daily Mass could echo amid the hammer-beamed roof. You’ll feel the history in the air-look up, past the vast rose window (it’s 22 feet across, so it’s basically the church equivalent of the London Eye) and down the nave. Inside, you’ll spot the finely carved triptych, a grand old organ, and saints from around Britain gazing down on every worshipper and wanderer. On the right in the sanctuary, St Ignatius of Loyola makes his presence known-proof of the Jesuit priests’ enduring influence.
St Walburge’s once even made it onto TV. The church’s spire was the final job for Fred Dibnah, the beloved steeplejack and TV personality. He didn’t quite finish-and his ladders were left behind and became a bit of a local marvel themselves.
If you ever get the chance, climb the spire (on select weekends-and tickets help keep the church going). It’s a climb that’ll leave your knees wobbly and your spirits sky-high. Looking out at Preston from those dizzy heights, you’ll probably agree: sometimes, history really does reach for the heavens.
