of a later period; without, nor spire nor pinnacle raised its tall point, or its fantastic wreath, towards heaven. No trace, however, of the characteristic architecture of the period alluded to, exists in the present cathedral: that was begun to be erected at the epoch of which we are now immediately to speak.

About the year 1228, in the reign of Henry the Third, Archbishop Walter de Grey erected the oldest existing part of the present edifice, namely, the south transept, which affords a beautiful and complete specimen of the style of architecture which had then begun to prevail. The massive pillar had given place to a cluster of slender and elegant columns: instead of plain capitals, the upper parts of those columns were decorated with luxuriant foliage: the windows were high, narrow, and pointed: and the interior of the roof was over-run with tracery. The north transept, having been built only about thirty years afterwards, is naturally marked with all the features of the same style: a steeple, considered handsome at that era, arose at the junction of these two parts of the building. After another lapse of thirty years, which conducts us to the twentieth of Edward the First, the first stone of the nave was laid by Archbishop John le Romain; but this part of the building was not finished till about 1330, the

fourth of Edward the Third, and in the prelacy of William de Melton, who completed the west end, with its noble uniform towers, as they remain to this day. Had the nave been completed by its founder, it would doubtless have borne a strong resemblance to the transepts; as architecture in the time of Edward the First was so nearly the same as in that of his Father Henry the Third, as to render it difficult to point out the marks of distinction. But by De Melton it was finished in the manner that had begun to prevail in the reign of the Second Edward: the characteristics of which were, that the vaulting was more highly decorated: the small pillars, or shafts, that had formerly been detached from the body of the column, were become of the number of its constituent parts: the windows were greatly enlarged, especially the grand eastern or western ones of the nave or choir, which were carried nearly to the vaulting; and, being divided into several lights by stone mullions running into various ramifications above, and decorated besides with painted or stained glass, containing portraits of kings and saints, or historical representations, produced a truly magnificent effect. For a nave upon so elegant a plan, the old choir of Archbishop Roger was found to be but a mean accompaniment; and a new one was commen

ced by Archbishop John de Thoresby in 1361. The steeple at the union of the transepts seeming to bear the same inadequate character, it was taken down in 1370, and the present grand lantern steeple erected in its place within the ten years following. It is evident that the choir was not the work of De Thoresby alone; as the arms of several of his successors appear in parts of the structure, particularly those of Scrope and Bowet, the latter of whom did not ascend the archiepiscopal chair till the year 1405, the seventh of Henry the Fourth. In the revolution of about two centuries, therefore, the superb cathedral of York, as it now stands, was completed; affording one of the most interesting specimens of the progressive improvement of Norman architecture of which the enquirer in antiquities can avail himself, not less than exhibiting to the eye of taste one of the grandest ecclesiastical piles in Christendom.

In tracing the architectural rise and progress of this edifice to its close, we have designedly omitted all the intervening events in the general history of York; one of which, however, was so remarkable, that its narration cannot fail to prove acceptable. At the commencement of the reign of Richard the First, the annals of this city were disgraced by a transaction, which, all the circumstances considered, has

scarcely its parallel in the history of civilised nations. Following the example of the Londoners, who had signalised the coronation of the new sovereign by a general massacre of the Jews resident in the metropolis, the rabble of York, who omitted no opportunity of plundering and maltreating the large Jewish population of their city, attacked, ransacked, and burned the house of a late principal merchant and usurer of the Israelitish faith, who had been one of the unfortunate sufferers at London, and barbarously murdered his whole family. Struck with terror at this atrocity, almost all the other Jews in York obtained leave of the Governor to convey themselves, their families, and wealth, into the castle; which so exasperated the christian mob, who had calculated upon a general plunder of this unfortunate people, that they threw off all disguise, and set their magistrates and the laws at equal defiance. For a while, however, secure within the castle walls, the Jews were enabled to contemn every effort of their enemies: till it unfortunately happened that the Governor, leaving the fortress upon business, was refused admission by them on his return, from a suspicion they entertained that he had entered into an agreement with the people to deliver them into their power. Highly incensed at this usage, the

Governor proceeded to the High Sheriff of the county, who was then in York, and who, in equal resentment, directly issued his writ of posse comitatus, in order to besiege the castle with the whole force of his district. "Excurrit irrevocabile verbum," says Hemingford: and now was shewn, he adds, the zeal of the christian populace; for an innumerable host of armed men, both from the city and county, arose and beleaguered the fortress. Too late would the High Sheriff have recalled his mandate: no authority could now make a successful appeal to reason from the passions of the people; and many of the clergy, infuriated by their zeal, animated the efforts of the besiegers both by their exhortations and personal example. In particular, a canon of the premonstratensian order, clad in white vesture, was every where diligent; his voice being continually heard, exclaiming that the enemies of Christ should be destroyed. But, being too strenuous in his endeavours to fix the battering engines against the walls, he approached so near that a large stone, by dashing out his brains, put an end at a blow to his pious ardour and exertions.

The Jews, however, being reduced to extremity, and having already vainly offered an immense sum for the ransom of their lives, held a council, in order to devise what mea-