More Bells For The Jubilee (7 October 1977)

In the temporary absence of anything world-shattering in my line of country, I append a few more notes on local church bells and bell-ringers.

In February, 1946, Mr George Grove, of Church Street, Fenny Stratford, retired after 54 years of ringing the bells of St Martin’s.  For many of those years he was bellmaster and he retired regretfully on his doctor’s advice at the age of 72.  He commented that bellringing was not hard work, that bells should be coaxed, not yanked into song and that rhythmic action obviated any really hard work.

In his time he had rung in three victory (or peace) peals – the first on the cessation of the Boer War, the second at the end of the 1914-18 war, and the third at the end of the then recent 1939-45 war.    The last had given him the greatest joy.

St Martin’s had only two bells from its foundation right up to Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee in 1887 – the great bell and a sanctus bell.  The great bell was re-cast in 1824 and is now the tenor component of a peal of six.   The other five in the peal were installed especially to celebrate the jubilee and were made by Messrs Gillett, of Croyden.  Many places honoured that great event of 90 years ago by installing one or more new bells in the parish church.  In addition to the five at Fenny, Gillett’s sent two to Woughton, one to Milton Keynes (village) and one to Newport Pagnell.  Mr Grove began his long service at St. Martin’s only five years later.

At most village churches the tenor bell used to be tolled at the end of the Sunday morning service.  Ostensibly, this was done to remind people that another service was to be held later in the day.  To most, however, it became known as the “pudding bell,” as it “tolled” the housewife that her family would soon be home from church and she could now make ready to serve dinner.  Milton Keynes was one place where this custom was still observed after the second world war.  Perhaps there were – or still are – others in the neighbourhood?

Bellringing for special occasions was regarded as a thirsty job, if old church-wardens’ accounts are anything to go by.  At Newton Longville, in 1716, the eight ringers received a total payment of 5s “for ale when the King com hom.”

This was for refreshment for the ringers on the anniversary of the restoration of Charles II, which was celebrated every year on May 29.  But in 1719 they gave them only 6d each “for ale.”  Maybe the funds were lower for the ringers had not performed so well.

In Bletchley, St Mary’s accounts for 1811 there is an item “James Law’s bill for Ringers’ Beer, 11s 10d.”  No hint is given on whether the ringers could drink as much as they wanted and have it chalked up to the church-wardens, or what; but evidently they did not imbibe from money paid to them on the spot.

I also wonder whether James was the landlord of the Ring o’ Bells that used to stand near the church gate and which is said to have been the precursor of the Eight Bells, since removed to the bottom of Church Green Road.

A lot of old village pubs still stand very close to their old village churches and lych-gates.  Perhaps in a small place they couldn’t very well be anywhere else.  However that might be, I am tickled at the mental picture of those old-time bellringers tumbling out of their towers in their eagerness to get at the nearest pint – especially a free one.  After all, the village pond was usually handy, too.

The importance of the bells in those days of great usage is clearly shown by the amount of money regularly spent on their upkeep.  Thus, at Newton Longville, in 1869, we have “Paid Richard Matthews two days’ work on the bells, 1js 1jd,”  “Paid Will Reeve for ironwork about the bells, 1js Vjd ,” and “Paid for ropes XVjs,” while only four years later we find 6s 5d and 16s 9d paid for mending the third and fourth bells and another 13s 6d for ropes.  No small sums in those days.

People took their time from the sounding of a bell at regular known times.  In addition, every happy event of local or national importance called the bells into action and the Gunpowder Plot was similarly commemorated every November 5.

But those old-timers wouldn’t have believed their ears, if, by some witchcraft, they could have been at Bow Brickhill in October, 1946.  There were only four old bells in the tower, hung there in the 1600’s and for long unsafe to use, but what was heard coming from the belfry was the full carillon of St Margaret’s, Westminster!

This modern magic, of course, was wrought by a 50-watt, four-speaker amplifier and a gramophone record, all set in the tower above the bells and intended to supersede them.  The equipment cost £50 and was presented by Mr Eustace Garratt and Miss Garratt, of Caldecott Farm in memory of their father, Charles, who was churchwarden for 30 years, and his wife, Sarah Ann, his brother, Stephen Charles and his sister, Dora Caroline.

The rector, the Rev M Warner, told me that permission had been given for the idea and tests had been made.

The bells of York Minster had been found too confusing and those of St Margaret’s were clearer.

“But what about Bow Bells?” I asked.

Alas, said Mr Warner, those were not in the gramophone company’s repertoire.