York, England October 2017
It rained on and off for most of the day but that didn’t prevent me, my brothers, cousin and her husband from enjoying a day out. York is an ancient walled city at the junction of the rivers Ouse and Foss, just fifty-four kilometers to the west of Hull. People were calling the area home long before the Romans founded their settlement in 71AD. They named their town Eboracum and it was soon the provincial capital of what history knows as Britannia Inferior. At its height six thousand legionaries were stationed in the city.
The Roman town later became the capital of the kingdom of Northumbria and in the Middle Ages the Danes (Vikings) renamed their capital in England Jorvik. Possibly how the name York evolved. The city eventually grew to such significance that it gave its name to the county of Yorkshire. It also developed into a major wool trading centre and became the capital of the northern province of the Church of England. As the second most important church in the land York Minster was represented by the Archbishop of York. During the industrial revolution York became the hub of England’s railway network.
The city today is a driving and parking nightmare so it is best to take advantage of the York public transit’s Park and Ride service. This service greatly minimizes traffic aggravation and eliminates outrageous parking costs. Visitors to the city simply park on the outskirts at a bus terminal lot then hop on a bus that runs back and forth to the city centre every twenty minutes. Our bus was articulated and was so packed with visitors and commuters I ended up standing in the mid-section. The articulated section looked like a big accordion fastened between the bus’s two halves. I didn’t find the ride particularly stable.
Happily in no time at all we were downtown and standing outside the ancient wall that surrounds the old city. The first wall was wooden and erected by the Romans. Over the next 1500 years the wall was extended and rebuilt in stone for better protection against marauding brigands. If you follow the guide pamphlets available everywhere and look close you can see sections of the various constructions along the wall today.
Our first place to visit was decided by the wet weather. We headed off for The Cathedral Church of Saint Peter in York, known more commonly as York Minister. The Minster dominates the skyline and is easy to see from anywhere. Oddly though finding the way through the rabbit warren of streets can be challenging. Minster is an Anglo-Saxon term for a missionary teaching church. The services today are regarded as Anglican High Church or Anglo-Catholic, which is my branch of the faith.
Standing just outside the south doors of the Minster is a solitary Roman column a thousand years older than the Cathedral itself. This column was originally part of a Roman basilica evidence of which remains buried beneath the Minster’s central tower. Constantine the Great was declared Emperor of the Roman Empire in the basilica, or great hall in 306AD. Constantine was the first Roman Emperor to convert to Christianity and during his reign he pressed for religious toleration throughout the empire. It was he who convened the First Council of Nicaea in 325 which resulted in the adoption of the Nicene Creed. Constantine also ordered construction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre on the site of Christ’s tomb in Jerusalem.
The Venerable Bede, a monk and historian who lived around 700 wrote of Christian missionaries in the York area around 180AD. The first recorded church here was erected in 627. It’s said it was erected to allow for the baptism of Edwin, King of Northumbria. Ten years later a new stone church was dedicated to Saint Peter. Over the following five hundred years the building was extended, damaged, destroyed and rebuilt many times. Then in 1215 the Archbishop of York, Walter de Gray decided to build a cathedral to compare to the one in Canterbury. Completion and consecration did not take place until 1472. Imagine a construction project that took over 250 years, today we complain if road works aren’t done in two months.
The Minster was built in the Perpendicular Gothic style with stunning stain glass windows that date to 1338. The Lady Chapel which was finished in 1408 is renowned for having the largest expanse of medieval stained glass in the world. For me the window with a heart shaped design known as The Heart of Yorkshire was the most stunning.
Construction of the new Cathedral didn’t mean the Minster’s troubles were over. The English Reformation led to the destruction of many Catholic influences within the building. Much was lost forever and the past five hundred years have seen both high points and low points in efforts to maintain the building in good repair. Those efforts include expansions and rebuilding after numerous manmade and natural disasters and the problems continued to the present day. In 1984 the Minster was struck by lightning and the resulting catastrophic fire on the roof caused damage that took three years to repair. In 2007 an extensive restoration was begun on the east tower. That a house of worship can be maintained for a millennium attests to the glory of mankind’s faith
It was nearly 12:30 when we entered the nave and since a service was scheduled I figured I’d attend rather than pay admission. The others decided on a 90 minute guided tour. As the daily service last forty-five minutes I reckoned I’d easily catch up with them. It was a nice service and very similar to what I’m used to. Once service was over I merged undetected with the tour group of about forty people for its second half. It’s really a magnificent building and the guide was quite knowledgeable and entertaining with his information on the building’s history.
Whenever I travel in Europe and visit ancient buildings I am always struck by how clever we think we are today. Alongside that is our conceit around how anyone could have managed without our knowledge and skills. One only needs to visit an ancient castle or cathedral to appreciate that our knowledge and skill not really much different to that of yesterday, we merely have better tools.
Once the tour was over and we were again outside it was still raining. Solely to avoid the wet we headed for the Thomas’s of York pub for a latish lunch and a pint to make plans for the rest of the afternoon. It was decided The National Railway Museum would be the perfect way to spend a couple of hours. The rain had subsided to a gentle mist as we set out by way of the defender’s walkway atop the stone walls that encircle much of the old city. You get quite the view of the city on both sides of the wall as you saunter along ten metres above the ground.
The twenty acre museum is set in a former depot and station and houses an impressive collection of over a hundred locomotives and three hundred pieces of rolling stock, plus thousands of other items. All under one roof. Everything on display was either built or ran on the country’s railways and was all meticulously restored. When you get up close to a locomotive the size and elegance of function is breathtaking..
One can’t visit York without seeing the old shopping district called The Shambles. The couple of streets have a definite 18th and 19th century feel to them. The pedestrian walkways are cobbled and with the exception of the odd delivery van are mostly vehicle free. We wandered through a number of shops looking for candies from our childhood. We also stopped in at a dozen shops on my brother Cameron’s quest to find a traditional English pea jacket. Unfortunately what he considered and insisted was a traditional English style was unknown to the many shopkeepers he petitioned for help.
After a wonderful day of walking around we stopped for another pint before heading back to the bus stop to catch the Park and Ride bus. It had nothing to do with the pints but we managed to get hopelessly lost looking for our bus stop, in spite of each of us insisting that “this was the way”. My cousin’s husband who seldom wastes words ultimately decided he’d had enough. He asked directions from a girl standing at a bus stop; a stop one of us insisted was the right one. It wasn’t the right one but happily she pointed us in the right direction.