lands to a
considerable value, given to it before the Heptarchy by Ulphus, king of
Deira and Northumbria. It is said, that when he presented it to the
church, he filled it with wine, which he drank off to its future
success. If the story be true, Ulphus must have been one of the most
strong-headed, as well as one of the must pious kings of his day; for
the draught which he is alleged to have swallowed would be sufficient
to upset the sobriety of any two men, such as men now are. The horn was
preserved by the successive possessors of St. Peter's with the most
careful affection during all the commotions of the Danish and Norman
invasions; but was stolen from them in the general confusion which
pervaded the city of York after the battle of Marston-moor and it was
delivered up to the Parliamentarian forces under the command of Lord
Fairfax and Cromwell. By some of the accidents of war, it came into the
possession of Lord Fairfax, who is reported to have purchased it of a
common soldier. On the restoration of Charles II., when church-properly
was again secure, his lordship restored it to the cathedral; and there
is now an inscription upon it, recording the gratitude of the Dean and
Chapter for having so valuable a possession restored them. It has now
escaped singularly enough from the destruction which has fallen upon
the other curiosities which were usually kept in the vestry-room; and
remains, as it has done for years past, to be sounded by all those
strong-winded visiters of the Minster who have strength enough to blow
it.]

From another account we learn that communication with the roof was not
at first apprehended, but the roof of the choir being very dry wood,
soon joined in the conflagration. It is impossible to describe the
awful picture of the flames rising above this majestic building. The
effect produced by the glare of light upon the stained glass of the
windows exceeds description. On the falling of the roof, the house of
prayer, which but the evening before had resounded with the voices of
worshippers, and where all was order and harmony, now resembled a fiery
furnace. The pillars, which once served to divide the choir from the
two side aisles, now stood alone, the whole being an open space, with
the roof burning on the ground, and nothing above but the blue canopy
of heaven.

Mr. Britton, in his valuable work on York Cathedral, gives a minute
description of that part of the Minster which has been destroyed; f