tent of the conflagration:--

The first appearance I observed was the issue of an immense volume of
smoke from the junction of the western towers with the nave, a smaller
column from the great tower, and a third column from the roof of the
choir, thus presenting the appearance of the building being on fire in
all parts, whilst a dense smoke filled the interior to such a degree as
to preclude the immediate entrance of the firemen. At length, the
engines were rolled into the august edifice, when a scene beyond all
description presented itself; the interior of the choir enveloped in
flames, reflected upon the beautiful stained glass. The flames soon
burst through the roof of the choir, and in less than an hour the whole
was in a blaze, and the melted lead poured down the spouting. The roof
soon fell in, in about five or six dreadful crashes. Every effort was
made to prevent the flames spreading to the transept and nave, and I
trust with success, for though the engines are now (midnight) still
playing, I do not find that there is any other fire than the remains of
the roof on the floor of the choir.

[Footnote 1: No. 162, vol. vi., of the MIRROR, contains a fine view of
the Minster. The first religious foundation here by the Christians was
about the year 672. The Minster was burnt down in 1137, and lay in
ruins till the year 1171. The late cathedral was completed about the
year 1370. Appended to our engraving is an accurate historical and
architectural description of the whole fabric.]

The damage may be summed up thus: The roof of the choir quite gone, the
wood work on each side consumed, the matchless organ entirely
destroyed, many monuments broken, and the communion plate melted. On
the other hand, the east window is entire to the surprise of every one,
the screen is uninjured, although immediately below the organ, the
records in the vestry, the horn of Ulphus,[2] the coronation chair, and
the brass eagle are saved, and the wills in the Prerogative office are
all safely lodged in Belfrey's Church. For some time the city was in
considerable danger; flakes of fire were carried as far as the Lord
Mayor's Walk; providentially there was very little wind.

[Footnote 2: The horn of Ulphus is one of the greatest curiosities in
possession of the church of York. It appears like the hollowed tusk of
an elephant, and the length of its curvature is from 18 to 24 inches.
It is the title deed by which the church of St. Peters holds