It has already been pointed out that our bells deserve to be treated with care and reverence as much as any other part of the church fabric, because they not only have their historic interest, but are closely connected with our acts of worship and religious rites. I wish, therefore, in my concluding chapter, to offer a few suggestions as to their proper treatment. And when we speak of the bells in this connection we must not forget the belfries also.

Some fifty years ago the Rev. W. C. Lukis, whom I have already had occasion to quote, called attention to the disgraceful condition of many Wiltshire belfries, in words which were by no means too strong for the occasion. He pointed out that the neglect of the bells not only led to their becoming useless, but also endangered the whole fabric of the tower, and eventually did mischief to the parishioners also, who either had to do without their bells or pay for the repairs. Many of the towers were in so dangerous a state that the bells were forbidden to be rung, and though this may have been partly due to the vibration caused by change-ringing, for which, of course, the towers were not originally built, the evils were, in his opinion, due much more to neglect on the part of the churchwardens, who were responsible for the care of the bells.

“Bells,” he says, “require very constant attention to keep them in ringing order.” Therefore it is not the use of the bells, not even change-ringing of the most violent description, which destroys the bells and endangers the belfries; but simply neglect or carelessness. It must be borne in mind that bells are enormously heavy, and are yet required to move and revolve with perfect ease, and to be hung with perfect balance and adjustment of all their parts. Any temporary or amateurish repairs will probably end in doing more harm than good; nor will an occasional use of oil or new ropes supply all that is wanted. Above all, the frame-work must be kept clear of the walls of the tower, or the vibration will inevitably destroy it.

There is another matter to which the same writer calls attention, which, if not a source of danger to the bells, may often be so to those who visit them, and which in any case is a disgrace to those who have the House of God in their care. I allude to the condition of the staircases or ladders by which the bells are approached. “Generally speaking,” says Mr. Lukis, “the dark, winding stone staircases (when they have any) leading to them are dirty, worn, and difficult to tread; and when you have secured your footing, you suddenly come upon a huge heap of sticks, straws, feathers, and other rubbish, the patient and laborious work of indefatigable jackdaws. When the towers have no stone staircases, the bells have to be reached by a succession of crazy ladders, planted on equally crazy floors. Why should towers be so desecrated? Are they not as much a portion of the church as any other part?”

These words, at the time they were written, were doubtless true of the majority of belfries in the country; but I fear there are still not a few of which the same may be said. I have been into many a belfry, in which, on raising the trap-door admitting me to the bells, I have been forcibly convinced, by the showers of accumulated filth descending upon me, that they have literally not been visited for years! In justice it may be said that where proper access to the bells exists this is seldom the case. At the worst, the bottom of the staircase is made the receptacle for brushes, dust-pans, and candlesticks, or such-like necessary articles. But why should not proper access be provided in every case? Even the solitary tinkler in a small and elevated turret sometimes requires attention; and even if the casual visitor to a belfry must not always expect to be considered, it is surely reasonable that the parish official whose duty it is to care for the bells should not find obstacles placed in the way of reaching them. There are very few churches, not reckoning those where the bells are hung outside, in which a permanent ladder might not be fixed, where there is no possibility of a staircase. And this, whether of wood or iron, need not be either an expensive or unsightly object; but it should be stout and sound if of wood, and always fixed firmly at top and bottom.

I have said that, on the whole, the last fifty years have seen a great improvement in the treatment of bells and belfries; but only so lately as 1897, a recent writer, a keen ringer and expert in all relating to bells, had occasion to re-echo Mr. Lukis’ complaints. He points out, however, that the Central Council of Ringers, then recently formed, is doing excellent work by its reports on bell-hanging and similar matters.

Some of these remarks of Mr. A. H. Cocks, in his great work on Buckinghamshire bells, are so admirable and so instructive that I cannot forbear to quote them. He devotes himself to finding out the reasons why bells crack; and his conclusion is that such a thing rarely happens except from sheer neglect. Further, that while the sexton and ringers may be entrusted with the actual care and use of the bells, the real responsibility lies, in the first place, with the incumbent of the parish, and, in a lesser degree, with the churchwardens. The incumbent, it should be remembered, has the legal right of granting or refusing access to the bells, and of saying when they shall or shall not be rung.

“If all incumbents,” he says, “would remember that bell-hangings are machines, even if not quite so complicated as a steam-engine, and that all machines want a little attention, the lamentable and disgraceful state of many of the belfries would cease; and we bell-hunters would no longer get the almost stereotyped, semi-apologetic statement, on making our request for the key, ‘I’m afraid you will find a great mess up there, but, to tell you the truth, I have never been up to them.’” As he aptly points out, ringers, who usually visit towers where the bells are ringable and everything in order, know little of these neglected places; but it is the incumbent’s duty to know what goes on under his supposed charge; and if he refuses, the authority of rural deans and archdeacons should step in to arouse him to his duty.

Let every incumbent, then, who “has never been up,” determine to visit his bells. He will doubtless find his trouble repaid, if they bear interesting inscriptions or devices; and if he finds the attempt attended by risk of life or limb, let him be persuaded to renew worn steps or broken ladder-rungs. If he finds the belfry or staircase full of animal and vegetable rubbish, let him take the simple but necessary step of fixing wire-netting over the windows, and cleanliness, once attained, should be easily preserved.

And now as to the cracking of bells, and how to prevent it. Bells may crack either at the top, or “crown,” or at the rim, or “sound-bow,” where the clapper strikes. The former is usually due to defective methods of hanging, which cannot be explained without becoming too technical; but the latter comes from a very simple and avoidable cause. Moreover, a bell cracked at the crown does not thereby lose its tone, and may last for years in that condition; but if cracked at the rim it is immediately and hopelessly ruined. If, again, the cannons, or metal loops by which the bell hangs from the wooden stock, should be broken, the bell may be kept sound by boring holes in the crown and bolting it to the stock. But in making this latter suggestion I do not wish to commend—rather to protest against—the practice of modern bell-founders, who do this in all cases, instead of using cannons. They are supported by the ringers, who say it makes the bell swing more easily; but it is a barbarous practice, and destroys the whole appearance of the bell.

Of all dangers which beset our unfortunate bells, by far the worst is the objectionable, but only too common, practice of “clocking,” as it is called. Against this, no protests can be too strong. The reason is a very simple one. “Clocking” consists in tying the clapper to the rope in order to make the bell sound more easily and with little effort on the ringer’s part. Now, this gives the clapper very little play, and it strikes continually on one place at very short intervals. This checks vibration and prevents the effect of the stroke from spreading, and is a sure cause of cracking at the rim sooner or later. Yet all over the country it is constantly being done, and on a recent visit to Essex it was my experience in tower after tower. Worse than that, I found the bells in several cases actually hung “dead,” the stocks being fixed to the frames, so that any swinging was impossible.

“Clocking” is, unfortunately, no new practice, as we hear of it at Reading three hundred years ago; but would that modern churchwardens would take the same view of it that the good Joseph Carter, churchwarden of S. Lawrence and bell-founder, did then. He got the vicar to draft a resolution that, “Whereas there was, through the slothfulness of the sexton in times past, a kind of tolling the bell by the clapper-rope, it was now forbidden and taken away, and that the bell should be tolled as in times past and not in any such idle sort.” In London alone twenty-eight large bells in the principal churches were cracked by “clocking” between 1820 and 1860.

Even the ordinary clock-hammer, striking on the upper side of the rim of the bell, often has the same effect; and for the same reason. But in both cases there is a remedy, if put in hand at once and after consulting a good bell-hanger, namely, that of “quarter-turning,” or turning the bell round through one quarter of its circumference, so that the clapper may strike on a place at right angles to the old one, if that has become worn.

If, however, a bell has once become hopelessly cracked, there is no remedy but recasting into a new one; though it is said that a cracked bell in Dorset was successfully repaired by a Norwegian artificer about fifteen years ago, and where he has succeeded, others may yet. Nevertheless it is only too common for bells to be re-cast when there is no necessity. Perhaps one bell is broken, or it is desired to increase the number of the bells, and the founder, with a pardonable eye to business, suggests that all the old bells should be melted down, in order to have an entirely new ring, guaranteed in tune with each other. And thus disappears many an interesting and valuable old bell, perfectly sound and well-toned. It does not follow that because a bell is old its tone is inferior to a new one, or that it cannot be fitted into a new ring. Rather, the contrary is the case, and tone improves and mellows with age.

But when all else fails, and re-casting is absolutely unavoidable, let me plead that some faithful record of the old bell may be kept. At least the old inscription may be preserved, as to their credit was often done by the seventeenth-century founders, on the new bell. This practice, I note, is increasing, and deserves every commendation. But there is an even more excellent way. The inscription may be copied in exact fac-simile on the new bell (with, of course, an indication of the new date), as has been successfully done in many instances, notably by Blews of Birmingham on the old tenor at Brailes, Warwickshire, and in other cases by Mears and Stainbank and by Taylor (see Plate 19). Or, again, the inscription-band may be cut out and kept in the church, or used as the ring of a candelabrum. This has been done at Chester-le-Street, in Durham; West Bergholt, in Essex; and elsewhere. It at least preserves what is of special interest and beauty. Or, lastly, the old bell may be kept in its entirety, as a relic of the past, in some part of the church. This has been done, to the great credit of the parish authorities at Wingrave, in Bucks; Batcombe, in Dorset; Barrow Gurney, in Somerset; and Swyncombe, in Oxfordshire. This may perhaps be a counsel of perfection, as it entails the sacrifice of the money allowed for the old metal; but it is certainly the most praiseworthy course, even if it is too much to expect from a poor parish.

I plead, therefore, in conclusion, first for clean and accessible belfries; secondly for orderly ringing-chambers; thirdly for due care and attention to the bells and their fittings; and last, but not least, for the preservation of all old and interesting bells, not only to earn the gratitude of the casual antiquary, but to show that their historic value, and the services they have so long and faithfully rendered, receive due appreciation.