old turrets are pierced with arrow-slits, and above the battlements
are three stone figures. The archway is a survival of the Norman city.
In gazing at this imposing gateway, which confronted all who approached
York from the south, we seem to hear the clanking sound of the
portcullis as it is raised and lowered to allow the entry of some
Plantagenet sovereign and his armed retinue, and, remembering that
above this gate were fixed the dripping heads of Richard, Duke of York,
after his defeat at Wakefield; the Earl of Devon, after Towton, and a
long list of others of noble birth, we realize that in those times of
pageantry, when the most perfect artistry appeared in costume, in
architecture, and in ornament of every description, there was a
blood-thirstiness that makes us shiver.

The wall stops short at Skeldergate Bridge, where we cross the river
and come to the castle. There is a frowning gateway that boasts no
antiquity, and the courtyard within is surrounded by the
eighteenth-century assize courts, a military prison, and the governor's
house. Hemmed in by these buildings and a massive wall is the
artificial mound surmounted by the tottering castle keep. It is called
Clifford's Tower because Francis Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, restored
the ruined wall in 1642. The Royal Arms and those of the Cliffords can
still be seen above the doorway, but the structure as a whole dates
from the twelfth century, and in 1190 was the scene of a horrible
tragedy, when the people of York determined to massacre the Jews. Those
merchants who escaped from their houses with their families and were
not killed in the streets fled to the castle, but finding that they
were unable to defend the place, they burnt the buildings and destroyed
themselves. A few exceptions consented to become Christians, but were
afterwards killed by the infuriated townspeople.

On the opposite side of the Foss, a stream that joins the Ouse just
outside the city, the walls recommence at the Fishergate Postern, a
picturesque tower with a tiled roof. After this the line of
fortifications turns to the north, and Walmgate Bar shows its
battlemented turrets and its barbican, the only one which has survived.
The gateway itself, on the outside, is very similar in design to
Micklegate and Monk Bars, and was built in the thirteenth century;
inside, however, the stonework is hidden behind a quaint Elizabethan
timber front supported on two pillars. This gate, as already ment