York Minster is the largest Gothic church in England. It is situated inside the Roman legionary fortress at York, but on a different alignment so that its huge bulk sprawls awkwardly across the northern part of the old walled town. The history of the church goes back to 627 when Bede gives a vivid account of its foundation, and, as it subsequently became the seat of the archbishop of York, the Primate of England, it is not only the biggest but also the most important church in the whole of the north of England.

Thus when a recent survey revealed that the central tower was in danger of collapse, and that therefore all the central part of the Minster would have to be dug up to make way for new foundations, it became clear that here was the opportunity for a major archaeological investigation. This has now been in progress for three years, during which time first the central crossing, then parts of the north transept and now the south transept have been excavated and, in addition, areas at the east end, so it now seems an opportune moment to consider the results of the work so far. The archaeological investigation begun by Herman Ramm is now in the hands of Derek Philips, and we are indebted to both of them for all their help.

The main outline of the legionary fortress has long been known, for the Roman walls have never really been lost to sight. Indeed in the western corner, the famous multangular tower still survives to an impressive height, and sections across the walls have provided an outline history of the fortress. But hitherto, apart from parts of barrack blocks and an internal bath building, little or nothing has been known of the internal area of the fortress, though because of the standardised layout of Roman legionary fortresses, it has long been suspected that the principia – that is, the headquarters building of the fort – lay under the Minster. The confirmation of this and the discovery of this major Roman building has been one of the important results of the excavation.

The fortress was founded in AD 71 and the first buildings were of wood. However, only fragmentary remains of this early period have been found so far. The defences were first built of stone in the 2nd century – the famous inscription from the south-east gateway was set up in 108 – and rebuilt in the Severan period. Presumably the interior buildings had a similar history, but the final unravelling of the history of the buildings under the Minster must await an evaluation of the pottery. A few remains of the principiaof the 2nd and 3rd centuries were discovered, the crucial part being the end wall and three pier bases of the cross hall that formed the assembly hall for the legion. But as legionary buildings were pretty standardised, it is possible, by assuming that the principia lay symmetrical on the central axis of the fortress, to sketch in the rest of the building.

Complete column

The next major phase in the history of the fortress is usually assigned to the time of Constantius Chlorus, father of Constantine, at about AD 300, and it is from this period that some of the most spectacular finds were made. A complete column, which originally stood 22 feet (6.7 metres) high had toppled over and its separate drums were lying abutting one another as they had fallen. It appears that the cross hall to which these must have belonged had been moved some 10 ft (3 m) out into the central courtyard, whilst at the same time it was shortened at the north-west end. A series of rooms now extended over the end of the former hall into a portico which had lined a street as far as the street culvert. This culvert was found to be still flowing and went right under the north-west pier of the lantern tower.

But what happened when the Roman legions left? Most of the buildings were presumably still standing and various walls of a flimsy nature and a cooking area suggest that parts of the principia may well have been used for domestic purposes. As the most prominent building of the fortress, it would indeed have made the obvious palace for some local British tyrant, or the king of the Saxon invaders. Perhaps it is not too fanciful to see this as the palace of King Edwin himself, where he embraced Christianity, and thus to see the origins of the Minster as a royal church attached to the palace of the king.

Eventually, the buildings were demolished, though not necessarily all at the same time. In the area of the crossing, a thick layer of ashes implied a fierce fire, and in debris under the ashes was a fragment of imported Frankish pottery of the 7th century. In the south transept, however, the 4th-century cross hall seems to have remained in use two centuries longer until it was deliberately demolished in the 9th century, perhaps after the Danish conquest, for pottery of this period was found below the rubble.

The area of the south transept was then used as a graveyard, and about 30 late Saxon graves, many of them with carved gravestones of the 10th and 11th centuries were found. Some of these graves were charcoal burials, a type of burial which is gradually being recognised, in which the body was laid out on charcoal which would absorb the unpleasant body fluids. The important thing about these graves is their orientation: instead of lying east-west as the present Minster does, they lie north-west/south-east, parallel to the Roman principia - a point of the greatest significance to which we will return later.

The literary evidence for the foundation of the Minster in 627 is exceptionally good. Bede tells the story of the foundation of the church and the conversion of King Edwin in one of his most famous passages, with the simile in which the life of man is compared to a sparrow flying through a lighted hall, in one door and out the other, and the story of how the pagan high priest, on conversion to Christianity, set out on a horse to ride round and destroy the wooden idols. The wooden church that was thereupon founded was replaced in stone, but was later allowed to fall into ruin, and in 664 it had to be rebuilt.

But after Bede the evidence is much more scanty. There is a reference in a poem by Alcuin to a church dedicated by Bishop Albert to the ‘Alma Sophia' which had no fewer than 30 altars in it, and scholars have argued whether this church could in fact be the cathedral. Then the documentary sources are virtually silent until the Norman Conquest, when William I destroyed York and laid waste much of the north of England, and a fine new Minster arose whose massive foundations underlie the present one. Up to the current excavation, some scholars believed that the Saxon Minster underlay the present choir on its alignment.

What was the orientation of the Saxon Minster?

The cemetery of 30 graves underlying the south transept is firmly dated by the carved gravestones to the 10th and 11th centuries – that is, right down to the time of the Norman Conquest. Yet the orientation of these graves is not the liturgically correct E-W of the present Minster but NE-SW – that is, the same orientation as the Roman fortress. Another grave found outside the Minster, to the north-east of the choir, also had the same orientation. This orientation is a difficulty for anyone who wished to place the Saxon Minster on an east-west alignment. No direct evidence of any certain Saxon church has been found so far in the excavations, except for the remains of a predecessor to the early 12th-century St Mary ad Valvas.

It looks therefore as if the Saxon Minster may lie on the old Roman orientation, and presumably within the neighbourhood of the old Roman principia. Indeed it is very interesting to note the present position of the church of St Michael le Belfry: in its present form, it is a later Perpendicular church adjacent to the Minster, but if the reconstruction of the principia is correct, it appears to lie exactly in the south-west corner and approximately on the old Roman alignment.

The literary evidence for the building of the Norman cathedral is based on a 15th-century historian, Thomas Stubbs, incorporating the 12th-century chronicler Hugh the Chanter. He says that Archbishop Thomas of Bayeux found the whole church burnt, and roofed it and restored it; and secondly, he says that Archbishop Thomas built the church that now exists from the foundations. These two statements can be reconciled if we suppose that he first reroofed the old church as a temporary measure and then built the new church with new foundations possibly on a new and different alignment.

The present Minster at York is to all external appearance an entirely Gothic building, ranging in styles from Early English to Perpendicular and the only remains of the Norman building above ground are in the roof spaces. Under the ground the Norman foundations still exist, and archaeologically the church can be considered a two-period building (Norman and Gothic) except in the choir where there is a third period representing a choir built in the Transitional style between Norman and Gothic.

Three men were principally responsible for each of the three periods. The Norman church was erected by Archbishop Thomas of Bayeux (1070-1100), the tough Norman who was sent by William the Conqueror to establish his ecclesiastical rule in the rebellious north. Then, at least 60 years later, Archbishop Roger of Pont L'Eveque (1154-1181) replaced the no doubt somewhat gloomy Norman choir with one in the Transitional style. This was considerably wider and more elaborate than the Norman choir, and in the fashion of the period, it was elevated to allow ample crypts underneath where pilgrims could adore holy relics. The present church was begun by Archbishop Walter de Grey (1215-1255) who is perhaps the greatest of all York's archbishops. Appointed by King John, he remained archbishop for 40 years and became the confidential adviser to Henry III; it was in his time that the great north and south transepts with their double aisles, which form the oldest part of the present building, were built. The north transept is a particularly fine piece of architecture, with its five simple windows, known as the Five Sisters, and their superb dusky medieval glass, perhaps the finest part of the Minster. The huge size of the transepts virtually dictated the size of the future Minster; the nave was soon rebuilt in the Decorated style and finally, the Transitional choir was pulled down and replaced by the present choir in the Perpendicular style.

The main problems occur in the choir. In 1829, a religious fanatic known as Mad Martin set fire to the choir and much of it was burnt, necessitating extensive repairs. The floor was taken up, and under it was discovered, first, the remains of Roger's Transitional choir and, under that, the parallel strip foundations of an older building. When Sir Charles Peers, the then President of the Society of Antiquaries, further examined these foundations in 1930, he discovered an apse at the end of them which seemed to confirm previous opinion that they were of Saxon date.

The problem of the herringbone masonry

At the west end of the foundations were two lengths of walling which were evidently part of the original church. This masonry, built in herringbone fashion, differed from fragments of Norman church that had already been recognised, and the length of the eastern arm that it and the foundations implied seemed more suitable to a Saxon than a Norman church. The date was therefore disputed. However, the evidence for a Norman date was visible all the while, for in an exposed but dimly lit portion of the narrow wall, there was a small weathered fragment of a late Saxon cross shaft which could not have been broken and ready for re-use before the Norman period. Pottery evidence in the excavations also confirmed the Norman date, while the herringbone masonry was found elsewhere in Norman work. It appears, therefore, that all the early work under the choir belongs to Archbishop Thomas.

But if the Saxon Minster has not yet been found, our knowledge of the Norman Minster has increased considerably as a result of the excavations. The whole plan of the building except for the west end is now clear. It is an unusual plan in that the eastern arm is as long as the nave and the nave has a very wide span considering that it had no aisles. Timbers 50 ft (15.2 m) long would have been required, and while these were available from the neighbouring Forest of Galtres, freshly quarried stone was not easy to come by after the harrying of the North. The church was therefore built of second-hand stone, quarried from the Roman buildings of York. Defects in the masonry were hidden by cream-coloured plaster painted with red lines to imitate ashlar walling.

Future work

The major portion of the excavations have now been completed for virtually the whole of the north and south transepts and the central crossing has been dug out. However, selective excavations will still be carried out in the nave and choir, where individual piers need investigating. In the nave, there are considerable opportunities, for work is extensive and the ground unknown and it should prove feasible to discover at least the west end of the Norman church. In the choir, opportunities will be fewer, for comparatively little engineering work is required, and thanks to the excavations of 1829, the ground is relatively well known archaeologically. Even so, there is much to be learnt about the Norman and Transitional choirs as well as the tantalising possibility of finding out something about the Saxon church and even the Roman principia. But is it too much to hope that, after the engineering work has been completed, the archaeologists may also be allowed to complete their task and move outside the Minster, to the south corner of the principia?


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