which may be rendered in English:—

These lines will be familiar to readers of Longfellow’s Golden Legend; but some of the uses mentioned belong to a time when bells were thought to have a magic power over the forces of nature, and a category of modern uses embraces many others here ignored.

The modern uses of bells naturally fall into two main divisions—religious and secular, or quasi-religious uses. By the former I mean the ringing of bells for divine service, and, in particular, for the festivals of the Church, and their use at weddings, funerals, and other events of life with which the Church is naturally concerned. Other uses, again, though now purely secular, had once a religious meaning, such as the Curfew and Pancake bells. More secular uses are those of the Gleaning bell and the Fire bell, of bells rung for local meetings or festivities, or in commemoration of national events.

The only allusion to bells in our Prayer Book is in the Preface, which directs that the minister “shall cause a bell to be tolled thereunto a convenient time before he begin, that the people may come to hear God’s Word, and to pray with him.” This was, of course, the original purpose for which bells were applied to an ecclesiastical use, and by virtue of which they are reckoned among the “Ornaments of the Church.” It is, therefore, the rule that every place of worship within the realm of the Church should have at least one bell, and in England at any rate there are not more than half a dozen parishes where the rule is ignored. The fifteenth Canon similarly enjoins the ringing of a bell on Wednesdays and Fridays for the Litany.

Methods of ringing the bells for service depend largely on the number of bells available and the possibility of collecting ringers together; and the ringing of peals at these times is comparatively rare. Ordinarily, where there are more than two, the bells are chimed for periods varying from ten minutes to half an hour on Sundays, while on week-days a single bell perforce suffices, tolled haply by the parson himself. In many places it is the custom to toll the largest bell for the last few minutes before service begins; this is known as the “Sermon Bell,” and was originally meant to indicate that a sermon would be preached. Or the smallest bell is rung hurriedly, as if to warn laggards, and this is called the “ting-tang,” “priest’s,” or “parson’s” bell. Some of these little bells bear the appropriate inscription, “Come away make no delay.” The use of a sermon bell is said to date from before the Reformation.

In many parishes it used to be an invariable custom to ring a single bell, or chime several, at eight o’clock on Sunday morning; this, however, has lost its original significance since the general introduction of early Celebrations. In former times the regular hour for Mattins was at eight, followed by Mass at the canonical hour of nine, and though such an arrangement of services soon came to an end after the Reformation, the bells which used to announce them were continued even down to the present day. There are still not a few parishes where a bell is rung at nine as well as at eight, even when there are no early services.

In pre-Reformation days most churches possessed, besides the regular “ring,” several smaller bells, which are described in inventories as “saunce” or “sanctus” bells, “sacring bells,” and so on. Their uses are sometimes confused nowadays, but were clearly defined. The sanctus bell, or saunce, usually hung in a turret or cot on the gable over the chancel arch, and was intended to announce the progress of the service to those outside who could not come to church. It was rung at that point in the Sarum or English rites of the Eucharist when the singing of the Sanctus or “Holy, Holy, Holy,” just before the Canon of the Mass, was reached; whence its name. The sacring-bell, on the other hand, was much smaller, and hung inside the church, usually on the rood-screen. It was rung at the end of the Consecration Prayer, or “prayer of sacring” (Plate 30), and announced the completion of the act of sacrifice. The Reformers made a dead set against these practices, but it is difficult to see that much superstition was involved therein, and the revival in modern days of the “sacring bell” in the form of a few strokes at the time of the consecration has more to recommend than to condemn it.

A few sacring bells still exist, hanging on rood-screens, in East Anglian churches, as at Salhouse and Scarning (Plate 31), and one at Yelverton, in Norfolk, has just been restored to its old position. Ancient sanctus bells are more numerous, and a few still hang in their original cots, as at Wrington, in Somerset, and Idbury, in Oxfordshire (Plate 32). They have mostly been fixed in the towers and used as “ting-tangs.” The majority have no inscription on them, but there are notable exceptions in some of the Midland counties.

The only other “Sunday use” to which I have to draw attention is the ringing of a bell after services. This is, or was, sometimes done with the object of notifying a service in the afternoon; but it is known in some places, as at Mistley, in Essex, as the “Pudding Bell,” it being supposed that it was intended to warn housewives to get ready the Sunday dinner! Some writers have thought that this midday bell is really a survival of the midday Angelus, or Ave bell; but it is more likely to date from the bad times of non-residence and irregular services.

The ringing of bells on festivals is more particularly associated with Christmas and the New Year, though the latter is a secular rather than a religious occasion. The Christmas bells have been a favourite theme with poets, great and small, and the best-known lines on the subject are in Tennyson’s In Memoriam, said to have been composed by him on hearing the bells of Waltham Abbey, in Essex (Plate 33).

And again:

The more famous stanzas, beginning:

refer rather to New Year’s Eve.

On New Year’s Eve the old year is rung out and the new year in, in many parishes. Sometimes one bell only is tolled until the clock strikes twelve, in other cases the bells are rung muffled, i.e., with the clappers wrapped round to deaden the sound, these being uncovered at midnight, when a merry “open” peal bursts forth. Either practice is to be preferred to that of ringing consecutively before and after the hour, which obscures the significance of the performance.

A muffled peal is sometimes rung on the Holy Innocents’ Day, a custom said to be kept up still in Herefordshire; and in addition to the Greater Festivals, the Epiphany, All Saints’ Day, S. Andrew’s Day, and S. Thomas’s Day, have been or are still specially honoured. Ringing on the last-named occasion, which is kept up in several Warwickshire parishes, appears to be associated with the distribution of local charities. But ringing on “superstitious” occasions, not mentioned in the Book of Common Prayer, is forbidden by the 88th Canon.

Another day of the Church’s year with which bell-ringing is associated is Shrove Tuesday, on which day the Pancake bell is rung in some places at eleven o’clock. Two bells are generally used, the sound of which is supposed to resemble the word “pancake.” The origin of the custom is to be found in the calling of the faithful to confess their sins and be “shriven” at the beginning of the Lenten fast. That pancakes were associated with this day is due to the fact that butter was forbidden during the whole of Lent. It was always the Church’s rule that the bells should be silent during that season—at least that there should be no peal-ringing in Lent, and no bells used at all during Holy Week; and this is now generally observed.

Except in the case of royalty we seldom now hear of bells being rung to usher mankind into the world; but they have always been associated with the rejoicings of a wedding ceremony, and in some parts, as in Lincolnshire, are even rung at the putting up of Banns. But their use at the time of death is even more universal.

The passing bell originally sounded as a summons to the faithful to pray for a soul just passing out of the world; but it has now degenerated into a mere notice that death has taken place, and as it is rung (to suit the sexton’s convenience) some hours after death, or even on the following day, the name has ceased to be appropriate. It appears to be one of the oldest of all uses of bells, and is said to have been rung for S. Hilda, of Whitby, in 680. Unlike most other customs it received the strong approval of the most ardent reformers, and in the churchwardens’ accounts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there are often long lists given every year of money received from parishioners “for the Knell.” The sum paid was usually fourpence. The 67th Canon directs that the passing bell shall be tolled, “and the minister shall not then slack to do his last duty.”

When the Knell is rung, it is a frequent practice to indicate the age or sex of the deceased. The former is done by tolling a number of strokes answering to the years of his or her life, or more vaguely by using the largest bell for an adult and a smaller for a child. Sex is sometimes similarly indicated, but more usually by what are known as “tellers,” a varying number of strokes for male or female, and sometimes also for a child. The commonest form is three times three for male, three times two for female; and sometimes three times singly for a child; but some parishes keep up curious variations of this rule. The old saying “nine tailors make a man” is really “nine tellers,” or three times three.

The knell with the tellers is sometimes repeated at funerals, but more frequently the tenor bell is tolled at intervals of a minute, becoming more rapid when the corpse appears in sight. In some country districts the bells are or used to be chimed at this time, and in Shropshire this is known as the “joy-bells,” or “ringing the dead home.” In olden days a hand-bell or “lych-bell” was rung before the corpse on its way; this is still done at Oxford at the funeral of any University official.

Bells were largely used in mediaeval times to mark the hours of the day, even before the introduction of clocks. In the monastic establishments they were naturally rung at the canonical hours of twelve, three, six, and nine, for the services of Mattins, Lauds, Prime, Tierce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Compline. It has been suggested that this is the reason why chimes are usually played at these hours, where there are carillons.

But one of the best known uses of bells for this purpose is the Curfew, which was often accompanied by a corresponding bell in the early morning. We have usually been taught that the Curfew or “cover-fire” was a tyrannical and unpopular enactment by William the Conqueror, and therefore a purely legal and secular institution. There is, however, evidence that it was in use long before at Oxford, where King Alfred directed that it should be rung every evening (as it is still); and William probably only made use of an existing custom for the beneficent purpose of guarding against fires.

But it has also been suggested that the Curfew was in its origin a bell with a religious as well as a secular significance, namely the Ave bell, or Angelus, which was rung in the early morning and the evening, usually at 9 a.m. and 5.30 p.m., and also at midday, and at the sound of which every one was expected to repeat the memorial of the Incarnation or “Hail Mary.” Some have thought that bells dedicated to the angel Gabriel were specially devoted to such a purpose; but this is doubtful, though the old Curfew bell at S. Albans still bears such a dedication. At Mexborough, in Yorkshire, a bell is rung morning, noon, and evening, obviously a survival of the Angelus bell.

The Curfew bell seems to have appealed especially to poets, even to the American Longfellow, and the puritan Milton, who in Il Penseroso says:

Compare the opening line of Gray’s Elegy:

“The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.”

The morning bell, whether an Ave bell or not, is seldom now rung, but may be heard at 5 a.m. at Ludlow, and at Nuneaton and Coleshill in Warwickshire. One of the old bells of S. Michael’s, Coventry, now at S. John’s Church in that town, has the inscription:

The Curfew bell, though alas! growing rapidly rarer, may be heard at 9 p.m. all the year round in our two University towns; and is also rung at eight at Ludlow, Pershore, Shrewsbury, and in Warwickshire. But it is now usually confined to the winter months, from Michaelmas to Lady Day, or an even shorter period. In some places the day of the month is tolled afterwards, as at Cambridge; at Oxford 101 strokes are given, representing the number of persons on the foundation of Christ Church.

Of purely secular uses of bells space forbids me to say much. The Gleaning bell used to be rung in many parishes during harvest, morning and evening, to signify to the people when gleaning was allowed. With the decay of agriculture in England this use has almost died out, especially in the midlands, but it is still kept up in corn-growing parts, as in the north of Essex.

Ringing has always been customary—at least since the Reformation—on secular anniversaries, such as the birthday or Coronation Day of the Sovereign, or on the occasion of great victories. It was also very common at one time on Restoration Day (May 29th), and Gunpowder Plot Day (November 5th), but—perhaps since their removal from our Prayer Book—these occasions are becoming more and more ignored. Ringing on November 5th is, however, still common in Warwickshire. Another day on which ringing was often practised was that of the parish feast, usually corresponding with the patronal festival, or day on which the original dedication of the church was honoured.

It is or has been a tradition in some places that in cases of fire the church bells should be rung backwards; and elsewhere a bell was specially devoted to this purpose. At S. Mary’s, Warwick, there is a small fire bell dated 1670, which, however, is not now hung; and there is a well-known one at Sherborne, in Dorset, dated 1653, with the inscription:

The large and small bells of the Guild Chapel, Stratford-on-Avon, are also intended to be rung in cases of fire.

The ringing of daily bells, especially at night, is often accounted for by stories of people who found their way when lost, or were delivered from nocturnal dangers, by hearing the bell of some church. Instances of this are scattered all over the country, and there are the Ashburnham bell at Chelsea, the great bell of Tong in Shropshire, and others which were originally given in commemoration of such events, with the object of keeping up the ringing for the benefit of other wanderers.

CHAPTER VI
The Decoration of Bells and their Inscriptions

Most of us are probably aware that it is usual for bells to bear inscriptions, be it only the date or name of the maker; but few who have not actually examined bells for themselves may have discovered that they are often richly or effectively decorated. We do not as a rule find them as highly ornamented as foreign bells, which often have every available space covered with inscriptions, figures and devices, or borders of ornament; but to some the greater soberness of the English method may seem preferable. Nor is this practice of ornamenting bells confined to the more artistic age before the Reformation. Some of our most richly decorated bells belong to the seventeenth century or even later (see Plate 38); and it is only the character of the ornamentation which is changed.

In point of fact the earliest bells are usually the plainest, and the mediaeval craftsman contented himself with devoting his skill to producing elegant and artistic lettering, beautiful initial crosses, or ingenious foundry marks (Plates 14, 36). The latter were introduced about the end of the fourteenth century, when, as we have seen in an earlier chapter, the guild of braziers or “belleyeteres” were more regularly organized. Those used by Henry Jordan (see page 29) are good examples; as are the shields of the Bury and Norwich foundries (page 30). In the West and North of England such devices are rarer; but badges, such as the Bristol ship, or the Worcester “Royal Heads,” take their place. One or two of the London founders use the symbols of the four Evangelists (Plate 34). A favourite device is the merchant’s mark, a kind of monogram, or the rebus, a pictorial pun on the founder’s name. John Tonne, who worked in Sussex and Essex about 1520–1540, decorated his bells in the French fashion, with large florid crosses, busts and figures, and other devices (Plate 35).

Initial crosses are almost invariably found on mediaeval bells, and their variety is endless, from the plainest form of Greek cross to the elaborate specimen shown on Plate 36, which is found in the Midland counties. The words were frequently divided by stops, varying from a simple row of three dots ⠇ to such devices as a wheel, a rosette, or an ornamented oblong panel. Impressions from coins pressed into the mould are by no means uncommon.

But often the chief or sole beauty of a mediaeval bell is its lettering. In the fourteenth century this is invariably composed of capital letters throughout, of the ornamental form known as Gothic or Lombardic (Plate 36). Towards the end of that century the black-letter text used in manuscripts was introduced into other branches of art, such as brasses, and thus also makes its appearance on bells. But the initial letter of each word is still executed in the old Gothic capitals, and such inscriptions are known as “Mixed Gothic” (Plate 37), later ones of the sixteenth century being more strictly styled “black-letter,” where no capitals are used. The change, however, was not universal, and many of the foundries in the West and North of England preferred to adhere to the capitals down to the Reformation; while even in London, as at Leicester, Reading, and elsewhere, there was a distinct revival of inscriptions in capitals during the sixteenth century.

The reign of Queen Elizabeth is usually regarded as a period of transition, and there was, before the general introduction of modern Roman lettering, a time when no general rule was observed. Some founders used Gothic capitals; others black-letter; others again, nondescript ornate capitals difficult to classify; while the Roman lettering, introduced about 1560–70, gradually ousted all the older styles from favour, and with very few exceptions became general about 1620. The use of older lettering and stamps by many founders during this “transition” period is noteworthy. The Leicester founders were especially addicted to this practice, and among other old stamps bought up the beautiful lettering and ornaments used by the Brasyers, of Norwich, in the fifteenth century. Henry Oldfield of Nottingham (1580–1620), and Robert Mot of London (1575–1608), may also be mentioned under this head.

I have said that seventeenth century bells were often very richly decorated; and the ornamental running borders or elaborate arabesque patterns which separate the words of the inscriptions or surround the upper and lower edges of the bells, surpass in that respect anything attempted in mediaeval times (Plate 38). Thomas Hancox of Walsall (1620–1640) adorned his bells with reproductions of mediaeval seals; and as late as the beginning of the eighteenth century the Cors of Aldbourne, in Wiltshire, bought up a lot of pieces of old brass ornaments from which they used to decorate their bells. At Malmesbury and Tisbury in that county they have left bells covered with figures of cherubs, coats of arms and monograms, a medallion of the Adoration of the Wise Men, and other curious ornaments. Most of these founders, such as John Martin of Worcester, Oldfield of Nottingham, and Clibury of Wellington, used trade-marks with their initials, and a bell or other device.

Seventeenth-century Roman lettering, although plain, is often most effective and artistic; capitals are almost always used throughout, and small Roman letters are very rare. It is not until the middle of the next century that it was replaced by the dull mechanical printing types which are characteristic of the present day. But since the Gothic revival several modern founders have re-introduced capital letters of the old style with good effect; notably the Taylors of Loughborough. Nowadays, however, there is little attempt at ornamenting bells; not only the usual inscription-band on the shoulder, but the whole surface of the bell is utilized for immortalizing local officials and celebrities. On a bell recently cast for a church on the outskirts of London are given the names, not only of the Vicar, Bishop, and Archbishop, but of the Prime Minister, Member of Parliament, and Chairman of the District Council!

So far little has been said about the inscriptions placed on bells; but as these form one of the most interesting features of the subject, they demand some little attention.

The earliest inscriptions, those of the fourteenth century, were usually in Latin, and very simple in form. We find merely a name such as IESVS or IOHANNES, or such phrases as CAMPANA BEATI PAVLI, “the bell of blessed Paul,” or IN HONORE SANCTI LAURENCII, “in honour of Saint Lawrence.” More rarely, the founder’s name, as—

MICHAEL DE VVYMBIS ME FECIT

“Michael de Wymbis made me.”

ION ME YEYT

“John cast me.”

Other forms of inscription soon became common, especially the simple invocation to a saint—

“Sancte Petre (or ‘Sancta Katerina’) ora pro nobis.”
“Saint Peter,” or “Saint Katherine, pray for us.”

By one founder, whose theology was somewhat confused, the Holy Trinity itself was similarly invoked—

“Sancta Trinitas ora pro nobis.”

He should have said “miserere nobis,” “have mercy upon us,” as in our Litany.

What are known as “leonines,” or rhyming hexameter verses, are also very popular, such as—

IN MULTIS ANNIS RESONET CAMPANA IOHANNIS

“For many years let the bell of John resound.”

VIRGINIS EGREGIE VOCOR CAMPANA MARIE

“I am called the bell of Mary the excellent Virgin.”

MISSI DE CELIS HABEO NOMEN GABRIELIS

“I have the name of heaven-sent Gabriel.”

VIRGO CORONATA DUC NOS AD REGNA BEATA

“Crowned Virgin, lead us to realms of bliss.”

SUM ROSA PULSATA MUNDI KATERINA VOCATA

“I am the rose of the world, when struck, called Katherine.”

Most frequent of all is the Angelic salutation (S. Luke i. 28):

AVE MARIA GRACIA PLENA DOMINUS TECUM

sometimes found in an English form as—

“HAIL MARY FUL OF GRAS” (“Full of grace”).

There are said to be altogether seventy different forms of dedication to the Blessed Virgin. She is by far the favourite saint with bell-founders, though S. Katherine (possibly on account of her emblem the wheel) was their special patron. On the whole the dedications correspond fairly to those favoured for churches; but we note that S. Andrew, S. James, and S. Paul, are rarely found, whereas S. Anne and S. Gabriel are more common. We must not expect to find bells necessarily dedicated to the patron saints of their churches; it is in fact exceptional, and possibly the name was determined by that of some guild or chantry. Where they are the same it is usually the tenor; but the old ring of five at S. Bartholomew, Smithfield, has the treble dedicated to that saint.

Among texts of scripture are also found

SIT NOMEN DOMINI BENEDICTUM
“Blessed be the Name of the Lord” (Job i. 21).

IESVS NAZARENVS REX IVDEORVM
“Jesus of Nazareth the King of the Jews”
(S. John xix. 19).

BEATVS VENTER QVI TE PORTAVIT
“Blessed is the womb that bare thee” (S. Luke xi. 27).

But such texts become commoner in the seventeenth century. An early post-Reformation example is at Hannington, Northants:

LOVE HORTETH NOT (Rom. xiii. 10).

Sometimes a bell bears a prayer for its donor, or for his soul, as at Goring, Oxfordshire—

ORATE PRO PETRO EXONIENSE EPISCOPO,

“Pray for Peter, Bishop of Exeter.”

This was Peter Quivil, Bishop about 1290. Or at Bolton-in-Craven, Yorkshire—

Sc’e Paule, ora pro a’i’abus Henrici Pudsey et Margarete consorte sue

“St. Paul, pray for the souls of Henry Pudsey and Margaret his wife.”

In these cases we are enabled to gain a clue to the date of the bell, a piece of information rarely found given in mediaeval times. Henry Pudsey, for instance, died about 1510. There is an interesting bell at Aldbourne, in Wiltshire, dated 1516, with a prayer for the souls of Richard Goddard of Upham, his two wives and his children. It is said that this is the only known record of his double marriage, though the family is an old one, well known in those parts.

English inscriptions are very rare, but when found are often very quaint, as at Snowshill, in Gloucestershire—

“IN NAME OF TRINITE; GILLIS [Giles’] BELLE MEN CALLE ME”;

or at Alkborough, in Lincolnshire—

“JESU FOR YI MODIR [the Mother’s] SAKE SAVE AL YE SAULS THAT ME GART MAKE [had made] AMEN.”

The Reformation brought about a great, though not an immediate but gradual, change in the character of bell inscriptions. We often find about this time the whole or a portion of the alphabet; and it has been supposed that the founder wished to use his old stamps, but was afraid of giving offence by adhering to the old style of inscription, and so arranged the letters in a fashion to which none could object! But right through the Reformation period, the reign of Elizabeth, and the ensuing Stuart period, it is by no means rare to find the old formulae repeated. It is possible that ignorant founders reproduced them when recasting bells, without realizing their meaning, or that they trusted to the inaccessibility of belfries, not to be found out! Still the fact remains, not only that more “Popish” inscriptions were left intact by Reformer and Puritan on bells than on any other part of the fabric of churches, but also that prejudice and fanaticism here seems to have played a smaller part. Yet there are indications of Protestant zeal on the part of some seventeenth-century founders. Tobie Norris of Stamford (1603–1626) is fond of proclaiming—

NON SONO ANIMABVS MORTVORVM SED AVRIBVS VIVENTIVM

“I sound not for the souls of the dead but for the ears of the living”;

and William Purdue of Bristol, in 1678, perhaps with the fear of James II’s advent to the throne before his eyes, gives vent to the prayer:

LORD BY THY MIGHT KEEP US FROM POOPE AND HYPOCRITE,

at Stanley S. Leonard, Gloucestershire.

For the most part the inscriptions of this period are, when not merely churchwardens’ names, coloured with a piety which finds vent in quaint and homely expressions, such as “FEARE GOD,” “IESVS BEE OVR SPEED,” “IN GOD IS MY HOPE.” They remind us of the bells of Rylstone, in Yorkshire, of which Wordsworth says:

He was, however, unfortunately misinformed, as the true inscription (on one bell) was, “In God is all.” Other attempts are more ambitious, such as—

I AM A CRIER IN THE HOUSE OF GOD COME AND KIP [keep] HOLI,

at Witcomb, Gloucestershire (1630), or—

BE MECKE AND LOLY TO HEARE THE WORD OF GOD,

at Chichester Cathedral (1587). Some of these inscriptions are on bells by John Wallis of Salisbury, of whom it has been said, “If we estimate him by his works he was a great man; and if we take his laconic epigraphs as an index of his heart, he was a trustful, thankful, religious character.” They are, at all events, characteristic of the sober and straightforward piety of the days of George Herbert and Bishop Andrewes. Three more characteristic expressions of the period are largely used by the Nottingham founders:

“I sweetly toling men do call to taste on meate that feeds the soule.”

“All you who hear my roaring sound repent before you lie in ground.”

“My roaring sound doth warning give that men may not here always live.”