Bells Then and Now!

I'm amazed that in the last seven years and more, this blog has now passed the 400 mark.  Since stepping out with some hesitation on May Day 2011, I dread to think how far those 'Four Wheels' have travelled.  And, as edition no. 401 hits the air-waves, I'm looking forward to several more miles being covered tomorrow ... although it won't be me behind the wheel this time.  It's the occasion of our annual Autumn Ringing Outing, and I'm being picked up at 8.25 for a day in Bedfordshire and Buckinghamshire.

With this excursion in mind, I woke up one night this week to find myself recalling my first such outing.  About six months after I'd learned to ring, the old chap who had taught me was asked if he would be prepared to visit the church in nearby Palgrave, where there were a number of youngsters who would like to learn to ring their bells.  After expressing his willingness to undertake the challenge, Bertie asked me if I'd like to go along to help.  I suspect he thought the additional practice would be good for me and, whether by design or not, it certainly worked out that way. 

Once all of the learners could safely handle a bell, there was no need for Bertie to attend every week and, within a year or so, I was there every Friday evening running the practices and teaching them to ring simple methods.  By the summer of 1972 we were looking for further adventures.  I suggested an outing with a difference.  With transport limited, we opted to travel by train to Norwich, spend the morning exploring and then do a little ringing in the afternoon.  The older beginners - the village's rector and his churchwarden, both of whom were probably in their sixties - didn't find this appealing, and declined the invitation.

So the party set forth one sunny Saturday morning.  I was accompanied by Mark, a work colleague who often helped with the practices, and possibly his sister Debbie, who was also a ringer, and we took Mary, the churchwarden's daughter, Colin and Roger, two brothers of whom Colin subsequently became a much more accomplished ringer than I ever did, and another boy named Stan.  Of these I was the eldest, in my early 20s and, with the exception of Mark, all the rest were at secondary school.  None of us had any recognised accreditation; there were no health and safety considerations in those days.

The morning was spent visiting three churches where there were bells that were no longer rung.  The first was St Stephen's in the city centre, then very much on the decline and with three bells that were never rung, and then we moved on to St John de Sepulchre, which at the time had eight fine bells that weren't rung because the tower was unsafe.  We were met by a robed priest who exhorted us not to attempt to do so.  These bells were later sold and split up.  Six of them were installed at Erpingham in the north of Norfolk, and the other two enabled the six at East Harling to be made up to the octave. 

I was present at the dedication of that new ring, which was preceded by a quarter peal that has lingered in my memory.  For some reason the start had been delayed and with the congregation all assembled the vicar announced that 'we will wait for the ringers to finish'.  Aware of this, we were aware of a slight increase in the speed of the ringing and all hoped they wouldn't make a mistake.  Suddenly, on three consecutive strokes, the conductor called, "Bob! That's all! Stand!" signifying the end of the composition, instructing the end of ringing and finally the setting of the bells ... and the dedication could proceed.

Our third exploration was at St Clements where there were three bells in a frame that was in such a dangerous condition that we wouldn't have been allowed up there today.  A picture exists of the four youngsters having just emerged into the sunlight on the top of the tower after climbing through the bells and all around that dodgy frame!

After our packed lunches had been eaten, we were met by a celebrated local ringer, the Revd. Gilbert Thurlow, shortly before his elevation to become dean of Gloucester Cathedral.  He was very familiar with the churches of Norwich, and told us much about the places we'd been to and also those where we were going to.  Much of what he told us probably went over our heads, but we felt it a great privilege to have him ring with us at St George's, Colegate and St Michael Coslany.

Tomorrow our greatest challenge will be the fine ten at SS Peter & Paul, Olney, where the bells are well over twice the weight of those at our home tower!  With luck, we will be welcomed by a local ringer who will be able to help where needed, but I'm sure neither this privilege nor any dangers we face will match those experiences of 46 years ago!