It promises to be another noisy, exuberant, and joyous morning of worship and my role, with the other dedicated members of my bellringing band, is to help to kick start the proceedings with our version of ‘rocking the church’ with a spot of ringing the bells. Only we don’t have to unload our equipment – our equipment is high up in the tower, which yes, will rock, ever so slightly when we get going.
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| Preston Minster |
As we start to ‘ring up’ the bell, sometimes, not always in the right order (and I am usually to blame), I console myself with knowing that most of the local community cannot tell the difference between some basic rounds and call changes and the more complicated stuff that we ring for them. For I am on my ‘Sunday best’ attempt and ringing to the best of my ability, because what we ring is not the issue – the fact that we ring at all is what matters. We ring for the church and for ourselves and to call out to the congregation that the service will soon be starting, even though most of us are not part of the regular congregation, partly because as soon as we end our stint at The Minster, it’s straight off to the next tower to ring for their service.
If you hear the bells ring out on a Sunday, don’t be under the illusion, as I was, that it just happens. My first introduction to bellringing was when I happened to be walking past my local church one Monday evening just as they were ending their weekly practice and I went to investigate. With some confidence as a past violinist and flautist, I joined the band the following week, and echoing the sentiments of Jack Wooley of The Archers radio series, thought “after all, how hard can it be, ringing a few bells?”
The answer is "very hard indeed.” Within the first 10 minutes, I learned that becoming competent at bellringing has nothing to do with any prior knowledge of music other than an ability to perhaps pick out the sound of one bell from the cacophony of clanging. Indeed it takes weeks and months of practice just to master the basics of controlling a bell enough to stay roughly in sequence. Patting your head, rubbing your tummy, whilst standing on one leg and whistling the national anthem backwards is child’s play compared to ringing a bell.
I acknowledge that compared to most who aspire to competence as ringers, I am an extremely slow learner, still mooching around in the slow lane, often at completely at a standstill, while other newer learners whizz by me and are well on their way to mastering the challenging stuff. For me, it has been my dogged determination that has kept me going for so long. After eight years, I am still hanging on in there, on the end of a rope, chugging along, doing my best, taking part, and finding enjoyment and personal satisfaction in mastering the basics.
I can’t think of any other pastime I have undertaken that I have pursued for so long, despite long times of no noticeable improvement before managing to ring something passably. Perhaps it is the generosity and steadfast support from my fellow, far abler ringers, who I am surprised still accepting me into their fold – and this isn’t just at my home tower, but at all the others I have been to. From a laconic “well that wasn’t too bad, was it” which is high praise indeed, to a “quiet well done” accompanied by a surprised raised eyebrow, there has been as much joy from them as from myself when things have gone well. I am just grateful that in y despondent periods. when I have wobbled and wondered what folly it is to continue to pursue the elusive dream of that perfect round of a Plain Hunt peal, they have been consistent in their encouragement.
Individual motives to ring all differ slightly, but none of us is in it purely for personal gratification. We are happy to share our passion when called on by the community and ring out the bells at weddings, funerals and the annual Remembrance Sunday which brings an added layer of work to the already pressed ringers as the bells need to be ‘muffled’ as a sign of respect.
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| a set of muffles |
‘Muffles’ are thick hand-sized leather pads, resembling one half of a pair of castanets, and are attached with straps to a bell's clapper to reduce the volume. The effect is to deaden the bell's strike note, while retaining the hum. They are only fitted to one side of the clapper and so when the bell is struck, there is an 'echo' effect as the bell strikes are alternately loud and soft.
When the bells are fitted with muffles in this way are said to be half-muffled – and the only time when they are fully ‘muffed’ is when the reigning monarch passes away. Fitting them isn’t an easy job – as I witnessed first-hand. I had wondered why our Tower Captain, who usually comes casually but cleanly dressed, had arrived wearing clothes that looked as if they had seen better days. There was a reason – a belfry, while dry, is a dirty and dusty place where copious cobwebs new and old abound, not to mention possible pigeon poo.
Accessed by a winding narrow staircase. I had read about the theory of fitting of muffle to clapper in a text book, not actually seen it done. When my tower captain heard this, she encouraged me to go along – apart from anything she needed someone there to call for help if she had a mishap.
This should have alerted me, and it was with some apprehension that I agreed to help muffle the bells at The Minster – or at least be there. Never one to go back on my word, armed with my torch and wearing scruffy apparel, once the bell ringing practice had ended, I warily followed Jo, Bell Tower Captain up the increasingly narrowing spiral steps. I began to regret my enthusiastic signing up for this the week before, when horror of horrors – once we got to the room directly above the bellringing chamber, it was not the end of the journey. This was merely the ‘Clock room’ – the bells were housed even further up – and accessed by a narrow ladder that led up a through a hatch to the bells. Halfway up the ladder, the batteries in my torch gave out – and having tried in vain to get a foothold on the ironwork cradles surrounding the giant wheels that support that the bells, I was, in truth, relieved to leave Jo, agile as a monkey, clambering happily between, over and under the ironwork cradles to muffle the clappers. The following Tuesday, we had to again ascend the heights to remove the muffles.
As well as these regular annual reasons, there is also the ringing to mark one off national events such as Royal Weddings, funerals, and coronations. I am guessing that most of us are somewhat addicted to turning up to “make a noise” as it really doesn’t need much to encourage us to get together to ring. However, while a tower of bells ringing in a basic round, with each bell successively following the one before, with perhaps a few variations, known thrown as “Call Changes” is good for most Sundays, for more important events, something more complicated is called for. These are what are known as the ‘Methods,” individually named, such as Plain Bob, Canterbury, Cambridge, Kent, and Grandsire and a rather short one that sounds like Bisto but is actually Barstow.
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| Plain Hunt sequence |
I started with the foundation peal of Plain Hunt, which apart from Bisto, the shortest sequence. In any Method, each bell follows a different bell every time until they get back to the beginning. If it sounds complicated – it is, at least to a learner, like myself, who might well, after much contemplation of this diagram, sort of understand the theory. However, when trying it out in practice, the ropes mysteriously seem to move much faster than when I was just watching. Add to this the sounds of the bells start alternating and within a few pulls of the rope, I am well and truly I am lost. The well-intentioned advice to “listen for your bell and put it in the correct place” is outside the capability of my ears to sift the difference in bell sounds when I am busy just trying to look as if I know what I am doing. As for “just watch the ropes and see which is the last to move”– I can’t even manage that standing in the corner with no bell to control. If I tried doing this whilst actually ringing, I think it may well end with a completely new method being invented – which as the composer, I would have the legitimate right to name “Hells Bells.”
I like to think that most people enjoy hearing church bells ringing out, and this was confirmed after the long silencing of bells during covid was ended, when a parishioner told me that she had missed the Sunday morning ringing and it was a sign of normal life returning when the bells once again “rang so joyously out.”
It reminds me of Tennyson, who penned this poem allegedly after hearing the bells of the Abbey Church being rung on New Year's Eve. This is entirely possible, given that it is an accepted custom to ring out the old year (half-muffled for its passing) and then with the muffles removed to ring to mark the birth of the new year.
Ring out Wild Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Some ringers believe that Tennyson was inspired by those at Hagworthingham, close to his childhood home. Any ringer can turn up at just about any tower and be welcome to join in with their practice. The trust involved is immense in tower captains taking a stranger’s words for it that they are competent to ring their bells and will not cause any damage, although they are not so foolish as to omit checking you out with a practice first. I have dropped in at a few places where no-one knows me and yet have found everyone welcoming. I always contact the tower captain first and am disappointed when some reply that they do not have enough numbers to make up a viable band on the days that I happen to be in the locality. However, I would have great trouble in adding the tower at Hagworthingham to the list that I have thus far ‘bagged’ – for the simple reason that it collapsed in the 1970s. However, the bells from the tower didn’t go to waste and were rehoused at Welbourn, near Lincoln, so I haven’t given up hope that I might one day ring one of those ‘Wild Bells.’
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| ringers in action |
All in all, bell practice is very good way to spend ninety minutes. There is no time to dwell on any troubling things as it requires full concentration in placing our bell in the right order at the right time. It requires mental agility and this, combined with a mild cardio exercise that is well within any one’s grasp, it is no surprise that some research has shown that ringers tend to suffer less from the ravages of dementia. As we lower the bells after another satisfying practice, the bonhomie and sense of wellbeing lingers long after the bells have been silenced.
To come full circle, about six months ago, another walker happened to be passing by the same church where I was first lured by the bells. just as we were finishing up our ringing practice. As she walked down the lane, she commented “what a lovely way to spend the evening. I must tell my friends…” I suggested she do better than that and join us to “have a go,” explaining that no prior knowledge was needed and no you didn’t need to be musical. So she did… and joins the band whenever she can.
If you are nearby to a church ringing bells this Sunday – listen out for it and appreciate the people of the bell ringing world who made it happen. We are a dying breed and need more ringers and hope that reading this may encourage you to search out a tower and have a shot at it. And I may see you there…
How still the bells in steeples stand
How still the bells in steeples stand,
Till, swollen with the sky,
They leap upon their silver feet
In frantic melody!
Emily Dickinson
How still the bells in steeples stand,
Till, swollen with the sky,
They leap upon their silver feet
In frantic melody!
Emily Dickinson
Thanks for reading. Comments welcomed.
Yvonne
2 comments:
What a fascinating tale of becoming involved with the ringing of bells.
There is zero chance of me climbing up that narrow ladder.
I had no idea about the mufflers or how they ring in the New Year.
Good to read an Emily Dickinson poem.
I thoroughly enjoyed your confessions of a serial bell-ringer, a most delightful read. You campanologists sound like a thoroughly fine bunch.
I didn't know anything about muffling and unmuffling bells, so that was fascinating, as was the account of your intrepid adventure up into the musty heights of the tower.
It's years since I've read Tennyson's poem. I think I may have been rather dismissive of it at the time. There's a lot more to it than I remembered. So thank you Yvonne, and happy ringing.
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