‘It was at five minutes past eight, after one or two peals of unusual distinctness, that the church of St. George was struck with a report resembling the discharge of cannon, and with a concussion of the air which shook the neighbouring houses, and extinguished a lamp burning at the entrance of the News-room, many hundred feet distant. The Sexton had gone into the church, as usual, to toll the eight o’clock bell; but was so terrified by the “fire-balls” that he saw in the sky, and by the fact that once or twice the clapper struck the side of the bell without his agency, that he made his work as short as possible, and had just gone out and locked the churchyard gate when the stroke fell. Two of the spectators of this awful event were Captain Jackson and the Rev. R. Burnaby, the rector of the parish, who both described the flash as a vivid stream of light, followed by a red and globular mass of fire, and darting obliquely from the north-west, with immense velocity, against the upper part of the spire. For the distance of forty feet on the eastern side, and nearly seventy on the west, the massive stone-work of the spire was instantly rent asunder and laid in ruins. Large blocks of stone were hurled in all directions, broken into small fragments, and in some cases, as there is every reason to believe, reduced to powder. One fragment of considerable size was hurled against the window of a house three hundred feet distant, shattering to pieces the woodwork, as well as fourteen out of the sixteen panes of glass, and strewing the room within with fine dust and fragments of glass. It has been computed that a hundred tons of stone were on this occasion blown to a distance of thirty feet in three seconds. In addition to the shivering of the spire, the pinnacles at the angles of the tower were all more or less damaged, the flying buttresses cracked through and violently shaken, many of the open battlements at the base of the spire knocked away, the roof of the church completely riddled, the roofs of the side-entrances destroyed, and the stone staircases of the gallery shattered. The top of the spire, when left without support beneath, fell perpendicularly downwards, inside the steeple, causing much devastation in its descent. Falling through the uppermost storey, and carrying along with it the bell and its solid supports, the ruined spire entered the room containing the clock, dashed the works to pieces, and penetrating the strong and well-supported floor, descended with additional momentum through the third and fourth floors (the latter being that just deserted by the prudent sexton), and reached the paved vestibule with so furious a shock as to drive in a portion of the strong foundation-arch, by which the weight of the whole tower was supported. On looking upward from the scene of ruin in this vestibule, the tower appeared like a well, so small were the vestiges of its various storeys.’ [Illustration: Fig. 41. ST. GEORGE’S CHURCH, LEICESTER.]