The Streetlife project and its focus on Coney Street as an historic high street facing multiple challenges was the perhaps slightly unlikely starting point for a project about York’s mediaeval Jewish communities. Research and engagement work by The Centre for the Study of Christianity & Culture at the University of York has highlighted the extraordinary importance of the Jewish communities both pre- and post-1190 in the story of York and its rise to prominence in mediaeval England. The story of the Jewish presence in York is frequently told purely in terms of the terrible events of 16th March 1190. This was when the majority of the community died in the castle keep which was on the motte currently occupied by the slightly later stone Clifford’s Tower. While this tragedy understandably draws the attention, the research being undertaken and new discoveries coming to light are helping us to put this event into a much broader context. We are enhancing our understanding of the York of 1190 and the impact of the re-establishment of a Jewish community here only some ten or fifteen years later.
York in 1190
The city of 1190 within the old Roman walls was significantly smaller than the city we know today, but in the area beyond the Foss Walmgate, Bretgate (now Navigation Road), and Fishergate were populated. You can see the likely extent of the city based on research evidence in the Historic Towns Atlas for York, available on the City of York Council Heritage Gateway site Walmgate met Fossgate at the bridge over the Foss. This was at the natural bridging point between two artificially created pools – the king’s pond and the mill pond of the castle mills, both of which were created in the late 11th century. It was at the city end of Fossgate that the pre-1190 Jewish leaders, notably Benedict and Josce, had their substantial properties. These were characterised as ‘stone palaces’ by the mediaeval chronicler William of Newburgh. These houses were in reality small complexes, probably gated with stone arches (possibly the origin of the ‘Stonebow’ name) leading into a courtyard with a central stone hall. This hall would have been surrounded by rented properties and various outbuildings, much like other large properties. These both covered very large areas and they had probably been built by their occupants. We know that Benedict held these of ‘husgable’ (a specialist type of rent) directly from the king. Their form and size was not unusual or distinctively Jewish, they were simply large properties much like those occupied by other wealthy households. We should imagine the community living close to each other within these complexes, just as the dependents and retainers of other significant figures would within the Christian community. The properties on Walmgate, by contrast, appear mostly to have been much smaller, occupied by individual families or households, of significantly lower quality and status than these stone palaces. Without doubt, this Walmgate area, being outside the walls, was somewhat marginal and lower social status. This closeness to Walmgate, and that sense of community disconnection, is, however, important for the next part of our story.
1190 in the cityscape
The public understanding and presentation of the horrific events of 16th March 1190 focus almost entirely on that awful night in the castle. However, what the recent documentary research by my colleague, Dr John Jenkins, has brought to light is more information about those who actually took part in the riot which led up to the Jewish community being there in the first place. From the lists of those fined for their part in the massacre, we can see that it was not, as had previously been assumed, just a list of the chief citizens of York. A significant number of those fined the heaviest for the massacre were residents of Walmgate and Bretgate. It is possible that the leading citizens of Walmgate had been borrowing more heavily from the Jews in order to raise their status within the city, and saw an opportunity to ‘cancel’ their debts by destroying the paperwork and ultimately their creditors. It is also possible that this area of the city outside the walls felt marginalised by the city authorities, and the citizens were ripe for being whipped into a mob by the indebted landowners who had come to York to incite violence. This new information means we can map a likely route to Cliffords Tower, quite literally walking in their footsteps, The proposals for the Eye of York then have an opportunity to reflect in the layout and think about how these events are memorialised and reflected upon in the area around the motte. We can imagine that the community would have been frightened and closeted in the houses of Benedict and Josce, hearing news of the terrible anti-Semitic riots in London around the coronation of Richard I. This was an event to which Benedict had gone with gifts showing loyalty to the new king and been so badly injured that he died at Northampton on his way home. The news that these riots were sweeping north, heading for York, meant that some had deposited their documents and belongings in the Minster for safekeeping, but as the unrest hit the north the debtors of Walmgate joined the mob and would have begun advancing on their ‘prey’ in Fossgate…
The route to Cliffords Tower
The properties in Fossgate and St Saviourgate were just outside the walls, near a large market. In fleeing the mob which was certainly being swelled by the residents of Walmgate and quite possibly surging into the city from that direction, the Jewish community’s only hope was to seek the protection of the crown by heading for the castle. All Jews were ‘under the king’s protection’ and as ‘resident aliens’ were only here at all at the crown’s pleasure (as would be amply demonstrated only a century later when all Jews were expelled from England). The most direct route to the castle would be into the city and then down Coppergate towards the castle. Castlegate may not have existed as a defined street at this point, but the route to the heart of the castle was the same through the castle bailey which may have been walled or palisaded. Once across the bailey, the access to the motte would have required people to cross the moat which surrounded the mound, a very narrow route. Once inside the tower they were both safe, but also trapped; the outcome was considered an atrocity even within the very different standards of the time.
The tower on the motte today is a later structure, but the whole site still holds the echoes of the events of 1190. It is difficult for many people to connect the tower with its role and position in the layout of the castle or to connect the area visually with the rest of the city or the motte’s strategic defensive role overlooking the rivers. The proposals offer us a chance to bring some of these strands into the modern experience, connecting communities across time and space and allowing people to, quite literally, walk in the footsteps of those people more than eight centuries ago.