AN explosion of colour signals the dawn of spring and more prosperous times ahead for York.

The sea of yellow beneath Clifford's Tower is a poignant symbol of hope for the city, which, a year ago, was suffering miserably from the effects of the foot-and-mouth epidemic.

But the thousands of daffodils which have transformed the traditional image of an imposing stone fortress, are also a lasting reminder of one of the darkest periods of York's troubled past.

Planted by children several years ago, the blossoming flowers urge visitors to think of the barbaric scenes the tower witnessed 800 years ago.

In March 1190, the majority of the city's Jewish population was slaughtered after seeking sanctuary within the tower walls from a local mob, baying for their blood.

After a siege lasting several days, the Jews were ultimately offered the choice between baptism and death. The majority chose the latter, the men being forced to kill their wives and children before taking their own lives.

Those who survived were murdered and the tower burnt to the ground. Legend has it that the reddish vein running through the brickwork was dyed by the blood of the victims.

Now, as tourists mingle beneath the great castle and chat in the sunshine, their colourful surroundings provide a solemn tribute to darker days gone by.