This is the second of my posts about my pilgrimage to York in August of this year. Accompanied by tour guide Matthew from “Exploring York”, I sought out addresses where my ancestors in my maternal line had lived. This account is about the street called Goodramgate.
Goodramgate dates back to Viking times and it is said that it was named after a Viking called Guthrum” or “Gutherun”. Historians believe this may refer to the Viking king known as Guthrum who ruled from York in the ninth century.
The street runs diagonally from Monk Bar beside the old city walls to King’s Square, or from south-east to north west. Starting at Monk Bar, we trod its ancient cobbles, surrounded by enthusiastic tourists and busy locals. Cars may travel along the street but preference is given to pedestrians. As a result, the atmosphere is relaxed, and the sunny weather on the day of my tour added an extra feeling of jauntiness.
We passed the Snickelway Inn, a pub named after the many narrow alleys and footpaths called “snickelways” which run through the old city. Originating from medieval times, These snickleways provide access to out-of-the-way houses, taverns and workshops. Many of them have odd names, like Mad Alice Lane, but what appeals most to me is the image of people “snickeling” or scurrying along the dim passages, having to squeeze past those coming in the opposite direction!
A little way further on, on the other side of the street, Matthew pointed out a row of wood-frame dwellings built in the 1300s. Called Lady Row or Our Lady’s Row, they are a series of small tenements designed to be let out to bring in an income for a chantry priest at the nearby Holy Trinity Church. What is remarkable about the terrace as a whole is that the upper floor projects out into the street by means of a “jetty”, because property tax was calculated according to the area of the ground floor. Today, Lady Row has shops at street level and the facades have been altered, but it is fascinating to consider that the building was there for five centuries before my great-grandfather Charles came along.
Behind Lady Row , accessed through an eighteenth-century brick archway, is Holy Trinity Church itself. Originally built of limestone in the 1300s, it has undergone major reconstruction to hold up the roof and preserve its quaint features. Today it no longer serves as a parish church and is open to visitors such as me. I was fascinated to learn that, in 1884, two women—Anne Lister and Ann Walker—took Holy Communion together at the church as an affirmation of their lesbian relationship. This would have been shortly after Charles left York with his first wife Emma Elsey but it would have been hot gossip among his parents and siblings who still lived in the city.
Speaking of Charles’ parents, Thomas and Mary Ann Sanderson knew Goodramgate well. They spent the first year of their marriage at an undisclosed address in the street. Their eldest daughter Emma was born there and christened at Holy Trinity Church on 13 February 1851. The 1851 census shows that Thomas’s occupation was hatter, which makes me think that he probably worked close by, but those details remain to be discovered.
Soon the Sandersons would have to move away from Goodramgate to accommodate their growing family. However, in doing so, they would have been just like me, stopping to gaze around at the centuries-old buildings—perhaps even recalling their forebears who worshipped at Holy Trinity Church in years gone by.
The above photo shows me standing outside the Snickelway In, Goodramgate.
