by In April, Jorvik will turn 40. In the first of a series of articles, STEPHEN LEWIS looks at how the idea for the Viking center was born
York could just as easily have been the City of the Vicars, rather than the City of the Vikings. If only a weird PR guy was a little less obsessed with the sexy hard sell…
Way back in the early 1970s a young archaeologist called Peter Addyman was looking for sponsorship to help expand the work of the archaeological unit he had founded in York.
He wanted the York Archaeological Trust to have its own laboratory, and a proper research institute with a staff of permanent archaeologists.
All this would cost money. A PR man was called in: and he knew that if the trust was going to attract sponsorship, it needed something to ‘sell’.
Dr. Peter Addyman (Image: Newsquest)
“He said: ‘What do you have to offer?’,” recalled Dr Addyman, in an interview with the Press when he retired in 2002.
“We said ‘we have this great excavation of the Roman legion fortress’. He said ‘Romans, h’mm, that’s quite interesting. What else?'”
That’s when Dr Addyman mentioned the exciting excavation that was taking place near the Minister – Vicars Choir.
Priests who were singing would have nothing to do with it – the Choir was really a sort of hall of residence for the vicars of the Minister of York. The vicars were the priests who represented the ministerial canon back in the early 13th century. The difficulty was that, despite being in a holy order, they were easily tempted by the sins of the flesh.
“They got drunk and found themselves in bad company,” said Dr Addyman. “It is suggested that the best thing would be to establish a ‘college’, so they would be less open to temptation.”
The ‘college’ was actually a block of communal priestly accommodation – and lasted from around 1250 until Henry VIII broke the lot during the Reformation.
It is not clear whether it helped to improve the morale of the representatives: but when the archaeologists began to uncover it in the 1970s, they were excited.
Sadly, the PR man was less enthusiastic. “He blinked,” Dr Addyman admitted in that 2002 interview. “And then he said ‘what else?'”
That’s when Dr Addyman thought of the other excavation taking place in York – the Viking site under Coppergate which later became the Jorvik Centre.
The area was being cleared for a new shopping centre.
And pre-excavation showed evidence of wood and pottery dating back to pre-Norman Conquest times and believed to be Scandinavian.
As Dr Addyman told the story, you could almost see the PR man’s eyes light up. “He said ‘Ah! Vikings. They are sexy. I can sell Vikings!’”
The rest, as they say, is history.
Copper Gate Excavation (Image: Suppliers)
The recently established York Archaeological Trust has put together an exhibition – The Viking Kingdom of York – at the Yorkshire Museum. Then, as other buildings were demolished, they began to extend their excavation.
They even came up with a neat fundraising idea: visitors could, for a small fee, watch archaeologists at work from a walkway next to the dig.
It was then decided that the whole thing should be more ambitious. A little celebrity gold dust was needed. “Who is the most famous archaeologist in the country?” someone asked.
No one knew, not even Dr. Addyman. But then he had a brainwave. Magnus Magnusson, the presenter of the popular TV quiz show Mastermind, was an Icelander and proud of his Scandinavian roots, he said.
“He will,” said someone. “How can we get hold of him?”
That’s how it happened that Magnusson was in York. Dr Addyman met him for coffee, and the TV presenter agreed to be the fundraising chairman of the dig.
Before long, Prince Charles was persuaded to visit.
Prince Charles at the Coppergate Dig (Image: Suppliers)
Magnusson then recorded a short BBC program on Viking York. He went out late one night – and the next morning Dr Addyman received a phone call from a Lancashire motor engineering chief called Ian Skipper.
What happened next is vividly described by Dr Addyman in his book York Archaeological Trust: 50 Years On, published in 2022 on the Trust’s 50th anniversary.
Mr. Skipper wanted to come and see Coppergate for himself.
“When?” Dr. Addyman asked. “Now!” came the answer.
And sure enough, later that day, a Rolls Royce pulled up on the scene. Mr Skipper appeared, ‘turned spotless (and) accompanied by his elegant wife and two delightful daughters’, as Dr Addyman recalled in his book.
Mr. Skipper insisted on descending to see the excavation then and there. And then he offered to help – not with a check, but by sending over a team of consultants, who went on to make the dig a world-famous tourist attraction.
The excavation was to continue for five years – and made headlines around the world.
It was Mr Skipper who suggested ways to make the excavation more commercial.
So, when he was told that thousands of oyster shells had been found – the remains of Viking meals – he suggested selling them as souvenirs. The Trust sold 20,000 of them at £1 each.
It was also the Skipper who suggested, when the excavation was coming to an end, that there should be a permanent attraction to take its place.
The idea for an underground Scandinavian city was born in a basement under the new shopping center…
THE FIRST TIME: the creation of Jorvik
