Choir boy's slip-up saved the Minster

We owe it all to the boy Swinbank. He was the hero. If it hadn't been for him, there would be nothing at the top of Stonegate now but a building site. Swinbank was the boy who saved the Minster.

A hundred and seventy years ago, on February 1, 1829, Swinbank was walking through Minster Yard on his way to morning service - he was a chorister - when he slipped on a patch of ice and went down on his back. Staring up at the Minster, he noticed there was something horribly wrong. Thick black clouds of smoke were pouring from the roof.

A sensible York lad, he ran for the sexton and together they alerted the Minster fire brigade. When they entered the building they found that it was filled with thick, acrid smoke. In the gloom they could see the wooden stalls of the choir blazing and crackling.

It looked manageable at first, but soon the vestry and the magnificent organ fell victim to the flames. The fire was gaining. It had reached the roof by now, molten lead pouring through the spouts like water.

No 999 in those days, no sirens and revving engines. In 1829 everything was horse-drawn... and slow. It was well into the morning before the first help arrived, from the barracks at Fulford.

Help arrived from Leeds at about the same time. And this is where tragedy turned to farce. The first fire engine arrived after a journey of two hours, the second was delayed when a wheel dropped off, the third was held up even longer when one of the horses dropped dead, and the fourth turned over as it galloped into Minster Yard.

Now the whole of the roof from the East End to the central tower was ablaze - it seemed certain that the entire building was doomed.

Then, about midday, the huge oak roof timbers split apart and the whole of the burning roof crashed down into the wreckage of the choir.

The fire was accessible now - and it no longer threatened the rest of the church. The Minster was safe. All that remained was to argue about who was going to pay for the repairs... and to find out who had started it. Finding the culprit wasn't difficult. Three anonymous letters had been written over the previous few weeks. One had threatened: "Your greet Minstairs and churchis will cum rattling down upon your gilty heads!"

One of the letters was signed with the initials JM and an address: number 60 Aldwark. The arsonist was a religious fanatic called Jonathan Martin. He was captured within days and brought to trial in York on April 2, 1829.

The courtroom was so crowded that the lawyers could barely find room to sit down.

The whole story came out at the trial. Martin had gone to evensong in the Minster and stayed behind after the service, hiding behind one of the monuments. When the coast was clear he climbed over the iron railing into the choir, setting light to a velvet cushion and part of a curtain. He had then escaped by climbing a scaffold in the north transept, knocking a hole in the window and lowering himself down to the ground on a bell rope he had cut down earlier.

He was found guilty but insane and sent to a lunatic asylum in London. The citizens of York weren't too happy about that. They wanted him hanged.

And what happened to the boy who discovered the fire? Well he disappeared into the mists of history. So next time you are passing, spare a thought for young Swinbank, the boy whose slip-up stopped the Minster from burning down.

Fire fighting was a haphazard business in those days. Before 1875, the only publicly available fire appliances in York were owned by the Yorkshire Fire and Life Insurance company.

These were put into action on the night of the 1829 fire alongside the Minster's own brigade. But the blaze was too fierce.

More help was desperately needed. An express was sent to the barracks and, at about 8am, several officers and four troops of the 7th Dragoon Guards arrived with the barrack fire engine.

Officers and troops manned pumps and hoses and salvaged furniture and treasures. The fire was eventually brought under control by late afternoon. Damage was severe.

Not only had the centre aisle roof collapsed, the interior woodwork, including the fine altar screen and choir stalls, had been reduced to ashes and many monuments destroyed.

Two brothers fought the fire. Troop Sergeant Major John Polety died from the effects of smoke a week later. His brother lived another ten years. Memorials to them both are found in the regiment's church, All Saints in Pavement. In his History Of The 4th-7th Dragoon Guards 1685-1980, Major J M Brereton records the motion of thanks by the Minster's Dean and Chapter.

It recognised the soldiers' "valuable services at the time of the conflagration in York Minster. To compliment so distinguished a regiment as the Seventh Dragoon Guards upon its order and discipline would be superfluous and nugatory.

"But it may truly be remarked that there never was an occasion when order and discipline were more conspicuous, or more useful, than in the conduct of the 7th Regiment on the awful Second of February."

Captain Alan Henshall, assistant regimental secretary based at the Royal Dragoon Guards museum in Tower Street, York, said this commendation had almost been forgotten alongside the regiment's battle honours.

But their role in saving York Minster deserves to be remembered on this 170th anniversary of the fire.

PICTURE: Arsonist Jonathan Martin, who was declared guilty but insane, much to the annoyance of York people