Bells of exceptional size, styled in Latin Signa, are no new invention of the founder’s art. It speaks much for the skill of the mediaeval craftsman that he should have been able to cast giant bells which not only rivalled the chefs-d’oeuvre of our own day, but, as objects of beauty, certainly surpassed them.

In the twelfth century a “tenor” was added by Prior Wybert to Prior Conrad’s great ring of five at Canterbury Cathedral, which bell, it is said, took thirty-two men to ring it. (This was achieved by placing them on a plank fastened to a stock, by which means it was set in motion.) It was, however, surpassed by another cast in 1316, in memory of S. Thomas of Canterbury. This weighed over 3½ tons, but was broken in the fall of the campanile, 1382, and was replaced in 1459 by a slightly heavier bell, cast in London, and dedicated in honour of S. Dunstan. Its successor, a re-casting by Lester and Pack of London, in 1762, stills hangs in the south-west tower, and is used for the clock and for tolling.

The cathedral of Exeter was furnished with two bells which deserve the title of great; but one, the tenor of the old ring of seven, does not strictly come within the limits of this chapter, which deals with single bells. All these old bells had names, some derived from their donors, and the tenor was called Grandison, from the bishop by whom it was given about 1360. Its successor, cast in 1902, by Taylor of Loughborough, weighs about 3 tons (Plate 18). The other, Great Peter of Exeter, hangs in the north tower, and was the gift of Bishop Peter (Courtenay) in 1484. It has been twice re-cast, and the present bell is the work of the Thomas Purdue mentioned in the previous chapter, dated 1676. The founder attempted to preserve the old mediaeval inscription,

Plebs patriÆ plaudit dum petrum plenius audit

“The people of the country applaud when they hear Peter’s full sound,”

but only found room for the first five words. From the style of the inscription we gather that it was originally cast at the Exeter foundry. Its weight is given as 6¼ tons, but according to another estimate is not more than four.

There is a rival “Great Peter” at Gloucester, and here the original bell still survives, the only mediaeval signum which we still possess. It bears the inscription,

Me fecit fieri conventus nomine petri

“The monastery had me made in Peter’s name,”

together with two shields, one charged with three bells, the other with the arms of the abbey. It may have been cast by the monks, as it bears no known foundry-stamps, but the expression “had me made” seems to imply otherwise. Its weight is 2 tons 18 cwt. Yet another, but a modern “Great Peter,” is that of York Minster, cast in 1845, and weighing 12½ tons. It is the second largest church bell in England.

From “Great Peters” we pass to “Great Toms.” Of these there are two famous examples, one at Lincoln Cathedral, the other at Christ Church, Oxford. The Lincoln Tom, which hangs in the central tower of the cathedral, does not appear in records before 1610, in which year it was re-cast by Henry Oldfield of Nottingham, and Robert Newcombe of Leicester. It was cast in the minster yard, and weighed 4 tons 8 cwt. In course of time it was found to be too heavy for the tower, and was “clocked,” or tied down, as a contemporary journalist describes it, in 1802: “He has been chained and riveted down, so that instead of the full mouthful he hath been used to send forth, he is enjoined in the future merely to wag his tongue.” The result was inevitable, and in 1827 “he” was reported cracked, which led to his being re-cast by Mears of Whitechapel in 1835.

Great Tom of Christ Church, which now hangs in the tower over the gateway, originally came to the newly-founded “House of Christ” from the despoiled Abbey of Oseney. Six other bells were brought with it, of which two still hang in the “meat-safe” belfry. Antony À Wood, the Oxford chronicler, tells us that it bore the inscription:

IN THOMAE LAVDE RESONO BIMBOM SINE FRAVDE

“In the praise of Thomas I sound ‘Bimbom’ without guile.”

Thrice unsuccessfully recast between 1612 and 1680, it is in its present form the work of Christopher Hodson, a London founder, who placed upon it a long inscription beginning with the words, MAGNUS THOMAS (“Great Tom”). Oxonians will remember the ringing of the bell every night at nine o’clock.

Among other great bells of historical interest we may mention that which hangs in the south tower of Beverley Minster. It survived from mediaeval times until so recent a date as 1902, when it was re-cast by Messrs. Taylor of Loughborough the weight being no less than 7 tons (Plate 19). The old bell was probably cast at Leicester about 1350, and bore some of the most beautiful lettering ever designed by mediaeval craftsmen (Plate 36). Another of Messrs. Taylor’s great works is the great bell of Tong, in Shropshire (Plate 20), originally given by Sir Harry Vernon, in 1518, to be tolled “when any Vernon came to Tong.” It was recast in 1720, and again in 1892, its present weight being 2½ tons. It was dedicated to SS. Mary and Bartholomew.

Another great mediaeval bell, only recently recast, deserves mention here, though strictly speaking, the tenor of a ring, and not a signum. This is the magnificent tenor at Brailes, in Warwickshire, richly ornamented with shields, crowns, and other devices, cast by John Bird of London, about 1420. It bore a beautiful inscription taken from an old Ascension Day hymn. Greatly to the credit of the local authorities, the inscription and ornaments were exactly reproduced from the old cracked bell on its successor, an admirable piece of work executed in 1877 by Messrs. Blews of Birmingham. The bell weighs about 2 tons.

Among great modern bells the hour-bell at Worcester Cathedral, cast by Taylor in 1868, and weighing 4½ tons, deserves special mention, as does a bell at Woburn, Bedfordshire, the work of Mears and Stainbank of London, in 1867, weighing nearly 3 tons. The former bears an inscription taken from Ephesians v. 14, and the letters used are copied from those on the beautiful Lincolnshire fifteenth-century bells mentioned in the previous chapter (p. 32). But the chief masterpiece of recent founding is Messrs. Taylor’s “Great Paul” at S. Paul’s Cathedral, which holds the reputation of the largest bell in England (Plate 21). It has, however, a rival in the hour-bell of the same cathedral, which has a more lengthy history. There was once at Westminster a famous bell known as “Great Tom,” which hung in a clock-tower opposite Westminster Town Hall, but was removed to S. Paul’s at the end of the seventeenth century. This bell was famous for its connection with the story told of a sentinel at Windsor Castle in the reign of William III, who was accused of sleeping at his post. He defended himself by stating that he had heard the Westminster bell strike thirteen at midnight, and this brought about his acquittal. Though the truth of the story has often been doubted, the striking thirteen is, mechanically, quite possible. It is said that this bell was originally given by Edward III in honour of the Confessor. On the way to S. Paul’s it was cracked by a fall, and eventually it was recast by Richard Phelps, of Whitechapel, in 1716 (Plate 22). It now hangs in the south-west tower, and is used for striking the hour, and for tolling at the death of various great personages. Its weight is 5 tons 4 cwt.

Great Paul is the masterpiece of Messrs. Taylor, “one of Loughborough’s glories,” says Dr. Raven. It hangs in the same tower, below Phelps’ bell, and weighs 16 tons 14 cwt., the diameter at the mouth being 9½ feet. It was cast in 1881, and simply bears the founders’ trade-mark and the words (said to have been selected by Canon Liddon) from 1 Corinthians ix. 16:

VAE MIHI SI NON EVANGELISAVERO

“Woe unto me if I preach not the Gospel.”

It is used for a few minutes before Sunday services, and at certain other times.

A description of S. Paul’s bells is hardly complete without an allusion to the great ring of twelve cast by Taylor in 1877, and placed in the north-west tower, the tenor weighing over 3 tons. They were given by the City Companies and the late Baroness Burdett-Coutts. In addition there are a “service bell,” cast in 1700, and two quarter-bells of 1717 for the clock.

Among other great London bells are the ring of ten at the Imperial Institute, cast by Taylor in 1887, and the tenors of the rings at Southwark Cathedral, S. Mary-le-Bow, S. Michael, Cornhill, S. Giles, Cripplegate, and other famous towers; those mentioned are all from rings of twelve, and weigh 2 tons or more.

The old campanile at Westminster, built by Edward III, originally contained three “great bells”; it was pulled down in 1698, and we have followed the history of one of these bells, but the others disappeared. They had no successor until 1856, when the late Lord Grimthorpe (then Mr. Denison), an enthusiast for clocks and bells, designed a great bell for the clock tower of the Houses of Parliament. It was called “Big Ben,” either after Sir Benjamin Hall, who was then First Commissioner of Works, or after a noted boxer of the time named Benjamin Brain. Its original founders were Messrs. Warner of London, but being sounded in Palace Yard with a hammer, for the amusement of the public before being hung, it was very soon cracked. In 1857 a new bell was cast by George Mears of Whitechapel, from an improved design, and containing less metal. Its weight is given at 13½ tons. Shortly after its casting Big Ben gave way, but after being quarter-turned, could be once more utilized for striking the hours. Its tone, however, is anything but satisfactory, and one is forced to the opinion that these excessively large bells, very difficult to cast and awkward to manipulate, are apt to prove great mistakes.

Chimes

Sets of chimes, or arrangements for playing tunes on bells, existed in England even in mediaeval days; but they are nowadays regarded as a speciality of Belgium, and the famous carillons of Antwerp, Bruges, and Mechlin are well known to many a traveller. But it is not our province to speak of these, and it may be of some interest to see what use has been made of such arrangements in England.

Dr. Raven, in his fascinating book, The Bells of England, tells us that the machinery of the carillon was a recognized thing in the middle of the fifteenth century, and quotes from the will of John Baret of Bury St. Edmunds, who died in 1463, and gave directions for the playing of a Requiem aeternum for his dirge at noon for thirty days after his death, and on each “mind-day,” or anniversary, to be continued during the octave. The sexton was also to “take heed to the chimes and wind up the pegs and the plummets” as required. The music of this Requiem, we are told, only compassed five notes, and must have been somewhat wearisome to the good people of Bury. In old churchwardens’ accounts, as at Ludlow or Warwick, we find frequent references to the repair or upkeep of the chimes.

The principle of the carillon is similar to that of a barrel-organ or musical-box, implying a barrel or drum, set with pegs, and set in motion by being connected with the mechanism of the clock. The pegs, as they turn, raise levers which pull wires in connection with the hammers which strike on the bells. With the ordinary eight bells of an English belfry it is obvious that only a limited choice of tunes within the compass of an octave is possible, and that they can only be played in one key on single notes. The Belgian carillons have sometimes forty or fifty bells in communication with a key-board like that of an organ, and tunes can therefore be played on them in harmony. There are a few carillons of this type in England, the best known being at Boston, in Lincolnshire, and at Cattistock, in Dorset, but usually the ordinary bells are employed, as at Worcester Cathedral and in many towns.

At the Reformation chimes largely died out, but with the Restoration they revived, and we hear of them at Cambridge, Grantham, and elsewhere. Another kind of chime which may here be mentioned is that employed for striking the quarters for the clock. Here, of course, no mechanism is required beyond the connecting-wire which raises the hammer and drops it on the bell. Of such chimes the best known are the Cambridge Quarters, put up in Great S. Mary’s Church in 1793. They were composed by Dr. Jowett, the Regius Professor of Laws, assisted by the composer Crotch, who was then only eighteen. The latter is said to have adapted a movement in the opening symphony of Handel’s “I know that my Redeemer liveth,” for the purpose.

The practice sometimes adopted nowadays of playing hymn tunes on bells by means of ropes tied to the clappers is a miserable substitute for the mechanical contrivance. It not only causes agonies to the musical ear by the unavoidable occurrence of false notes, but is only too likely to lead to the destruction of the bells altogether, as the result of the “clocking,” of which I shall have more to say later.

Campaniles

We have seen that it is the normal rule in England for bells to be placed in towers forming part of the structure of churches; or rather it should be said that towers for containing the bells were regarded as an essential feature in the construction of a church from the Saxon period onwards. Over the greater part of the Continent the same also holds good; but in Italy we find detached bell-towers, or campaniles, to be of frequent occurrence. The most familiar examples in that country are the campanile of S. Mark’s at Venice, and that built by Giotto at Florence. There are many others in Northern Italy, especially at Bologna, and at Ravenna, where the churches are of great antiquity.[3]

Nor are such campaniles altogether unknown in England. In mediaeval times they were attached to several of our cathedral churches, as, for instance, Old S. Paul’s, Chichester, Salisbury, and Worcester. The bells of Old S. Paul’s were traditionally gambled away by Henry VIII in 1534, and the campanile at Worcester did not survive the Reformation; but that at Salisbury, a most picturesque structure, with a wooden upper storey and spire, was wantonly destroyed in 1777 because the bells were misused! That at Chichester alone remains, a fine Perpendicular erection, at the north-west angle of the cathedral (Plate 24). At King’s College, Cambridge, a noble peal of five bells hung in a low wooden belfry on the north side of the chapel, which was destroyed when the bells were sold and melted down in 1754 (Plate 25).

Detached towers are not uncommon features of our parish churches in some parts of England, particularly in Herefordshire and Norfolk. The best examples are at Berkeley, Gloucestershire; Ledbury, Herefordshire; West Walton, Norfolk; and Beccles, Suffolk. Some churches, again, can only boast wooden detached belfries of moderate height to hold their bells, as at Pembridge in Herefordshire, Brooklands in Kent, and East Bergholt in Suffolk (Plate 26). The belfry at the last-named place is no more than a mere shed, and more than one story is told in explanation of the absence of a tower to the otherwise imposing church.