Inscriptions on Bells.
By William Andrews.
High up in the dusty belfry, whose grey shadows rarely see the face of man, the bells swing to and fro with unwearying zeal. But in addition to the lessons which pour from their eloquent mouths, should we scale the tall ladders of the bell tower and invade the regions of the owl and the bat, we shall find other teaching—that graven on the sides of the bells themselves—the inscriptions. Let us therefore glance over the wide field of interesting information thus presented to us. Allusions to the pitch of the bell are often the subject. A bell of Churchill, Somerset, has the following:—
Although my waiste is small
I will be heard amainst you all,
Sing on my jolly sisters.
While Berrow, Somerset, is more brief:—
My treble voice
Makes hearts rejoice.
Bruton has a recast bell saying—
Once I’d a note that none could beare,
But Bilbie made me sweet and clear.
My sound is good that once was bad,
Lett’s sing my sisters and be glad.
Badgworth, Gloucester, has a similar inscription—
Badgworth ringers they were mad
Because Rigbe made me bad,
But Abel Rudhall you may see
Hath made me better than Rigbe.
At Blakesley, Northamptonshire, the tenor bears—
I ring to sermon with a lusty bome,
That all may come and none may stay at home.
More pronounced is the self-congratulation of a bell of East Dean—
Me melior vere,
Non est Campana sub aere,
and one of Hurstpierpoint, which says—
If you have a judicious ear
You’ll own my voice is sweet and clear.
Rye Church, in Sussex, alludes in its bells to the marriage chimes induced by the liberality of the bridegroom—
In wedlock bands, all ye who join
With hands your hearts unite.
So shall our tuneful tongues combine
To bless the nuptial rite.
At other times it is the shape that is celebrated. At Combe, Somerset, a bell says—
My sound is good, my shape is neat,
’Twas Bayley made me so compleat.
Or the size, as at Bexhill, Sussex—
Although I am both light and small,
I will be heard above you all.
S. Mary’s, at Devizes, has another version—
I am the first, altho’ but small,
I will be heard above you all.
Again, names of donors are often inscribed upon bells, and these are handed down to us from very early dates; or sometimes the fact of subscription is mentioned in general terms of gratitude. So Bagborough, Somerset, says—
Bouth owld and young did agree full well
To pay for casting of this bell,
Because a true tale it should tell.
And Bath Abbey has a very terse bell couplet,
All you of Bath that heare mee sound
Thank Lady Hopton’s hundred pound.
A Devon bell has—
Squire Arundel the great my whole expense did raise,
Nor shall our tongues abate to celebrate his praise.
These hints, or downright references on bells to the pecuniary means of their erection, may be supplemented by the inscription at Buxted, which promises as follows—
At proper times my voice I’ll raise
And sound to my subscribers’ praise.
But in the last two centuries such expressions of gratitude for subscriptions to casting or re-casting are common enough. So in a similar strain speaks the bell of Alderton,
I’m given here to make a peal
And sound the praise of Mary Neale.
At Binstead, too, a bell says
Dr. Nicholas gave five pound
To help cast this peal tuneable and sound.
Bells at first bore strictly religious inscriptions; afterwards that rule became more relaxed, and irrelevant matters often find expression. After 1600 the claims of religion to be alone regarded on bells may be said to be almost entirely passed over. Marlborough’s victories are commemorated on the bells of S. Helen’s, Worcester, and those of Ottery and S. Martin, Exeter, have medals on which are represented grotesque pieces levelled at the churchmen in the most approved style of mediæval satire. Sometimes, nay, most often, the poetical attempts in the inscriptions are, to say the least, somewhat wanting in an indefinite something that goes to make true poetry. Yet the simple appeals of some of them do not fall unregarded. So when rich men give bells we find such an inscription as this—
Of your charite prai for the soulles of John Slutter, John
Hunt, and Willem Slutter.
An instance has been given of historical events being inscribed upon bells. A further one is that of the bell of Ashover, Derbyshire, which upon re-casting was inscribed—
This old bell rung the downfall of Buonaparte and broke, April, 1814.
At Tadcaster it is recorded on the fifth bell—
It is remarkable that these bells were moulded in the great frost,
1783. C. and R. Dalton, Fownders, York.
An extremely curious inscription appears on a bell at Pucknowle, Dorsetshire, dated 1629. It reads without stop or space—
Hethatvillpvrchashonovrsgaynemvstancientlatherstilmayntayne.
“Lather” is an old English term meaning “to make a noise.” A bell at Lichfield, which was destroyed in 1652, bore the following:—
I am ye bell of Jesus, and Edward is our King,
Sir Thomas Heywood first caused me to ring.
Many inscriptions on bells are, or contain, allusions to the vigilance of monastic times. Such is one at Ashill, Somerset, which simply says—
I call to wake you all.
As pithy an inscription appears on the bell of S. Ives, which is rung early in the morning. It is—
Arise, and go about your business.
A Coventry bell, dated 1675, says—
I ring at six to let men know
When too and fro their worke to goe.
Patriotic expressions are common; among such is Brusford,
Come let us ring
For Church and King.
And Hurstpierpoint,
Ye people all who hear us ring
Be faithful to your God and King.
Sometimes a whole set of bells bore inscriptions which may be read continuously. An instance is at S. Mary’s, Ticehurst, where the bells have—
Northfield bells, Worcestershire, give an account of the contest in the vestry-room which led to the completion of the peal—
| 1. | Though once but five we now are six. |
| 2. | And ’gainst our casting some did strive. |
| 3. | But when a day of meeting there was fixed. |
| 4. | Appeared nine ’gainst twenty-six. |
| 5. | It was Wm. Kettle that did contrive To make us six that were but five. |
Another bell bears the date and churchwardens’ names. At Coventry on a peal of bells, cast in 1774, are the following inscriptions—
On the bells of S. Peter’s, Nottingham, the appended lines appear:—
Our voices shall with joyful sound
Make hills and valleys echo round.
We celebrate th’ auspicious morn
On which the Son of God was born.
Our voices shall in concert ring
To honour God and King.
The bride and groom we greet in holy wedlock join’d,
Our sounds are emblems of hearts in love combined.
I toll the funeral knell,
I hail the festal day.—
The fleeting hour I tell,
I summon all to pray.
The longest continuous bell inscriptions we have noted are from Bakewell, Derbyshire, and on a peal of eight bells. They run thus:—
During a recent visit to Bakewell church we copied an epitaph blending in a remarkable degree business, loyalty and religion:—
To the Memory of
Matthew Strutt.
Of this town, farmer, long famed in these parts for veterinary skill. A good neighbour, and a staunch friend to Church and King. Being churchwarden at the time the present peal of bells were hung. Through zeal of the House of God, and unremitting attention to the airy business of the belfry he caught a cold, which terminated his existence May 25, 1798, in the 68 year of his age.
A beautiful Latin inscription has one—a Rutland bell—
Non clamor sed amor cantat in aure dei, i.e., It is not noise, but love that sings in the ear of God.
And it is in the same county that we find the modern use of the death-bell described,
I sound not for the souls of the dead but the ears of the living.
Cheltenham, too, bears out the spirit of this inscription in the following:—
I to prayer the living do combine
The dead shall hear a greater sound than mine.
The offices of the various bells form a large proportion of their legends, particularly those uses which are the most common. Thus the death bell at Axbridge, Somerset, states,
For homesoever this bell doth toll
The Lord have mercy on that sole!
Many Somersetshire bells have the following and similar inscriptions:—
to the church the living call,
And to the grave I summon all.
Brent, Somerset, has a bell with—
When I doth toll pray mind your souls
And in God put your trust,
As may be well with you at last
When you come to doust.
And Backwell, in the same county—
sound to bid the sick repent,
In hopes of life when breath is spent.
A bell at Stratton, Cornwall, is shorter—
I call the quick to church and dead to grave.
A bell in Ghent describes the purposes for which it was used: it is not an uncommon form in the Netherlands. Translated it reads:—
My name is Roelant;
When I toll it is for a fire,
When I swing then there is storm in Flanders.
Religious sentiments and quotations are found in thousands on bells old and new. Such are—
Te deum Laudamus.
On the bell at Peterborough Cathedral
Venite Exultemus Domino.
In Westminster Abbey
Christie audi nos.
Sometimes a letter of the inscription is found inverted; rarely a whole word. Such, however, is the case at Clapham, in Bedfordshire, where the line runs—
The prayers for the dead mark the religious changes of the country, and not less the invocations to the saints, which form one branch of bell lore. Elstead has a bell inscribed—
Sancta Paule, ora pro nobis.
Washington, in Sussex, one bearing—
O Sancte Stephane.
And Balcombe, in the same county, one—
Vox Augustini Sonat in aure Dei.
The uses to which bells were dedicated may be further exampled from their inscriptions. S. Michael, Coventry, has a bell bearing—
I am, and have been called the common bell
To ring when fire breaks out to tell.
And at Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, dated 1652, a bell piously says—
Lord, quench this furious flame,
Arise, run, help put out the same.
We may here appropriately conclude with some lines inscribed upon the tower of Batley Church, Yorkshire, in memory of a former set of bells:
“The Requiem of the late three bells of Batley Church, two of which were introduced into the tower in the 17th century, and the third or last in the 18th century, and were taken down in the 19th century, at the close of the year of our Lord 1851, bearing the following respective dates and inscriptions, viz., upon the middle bell: Tho. Deighton G. O. 1658; largest bell, 1684 Gloria in Altissimis Deo. Ric. Mann, Churchwarden; last and least bell, Dalton of York fecit 1791. To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost Eternal glory raise.
“Author of the following lines, Mr. Luke Blakeley, of Upper Batley; third of that name in the family, and nephew of Mr. Luke Blakeley of the same place, who died Jan. 17th, in the year of our Lord 1836, and was interred in Batley Churchyard.
“One hundred years, yea almost two,
We’ve hung in that turret grey,
And many changes we have seen
As time has fled away.
We seen the bride and bridegroom gay,
We’ve chimed their joy to tell;
Alas! before the day has clos’d
We’ve toll’d the funeral knell.
We’ve merrily rung for victories gain’d
O’er Britain’s enemies;
Then mourned for the brave who bled
To gain those victories.
We’ve highly lauded pomp and power,
Then call’d on men to pray,
A requiem rung with the weeping and sad,
Then revell’d with the gay.
We’ve seen the scourge of civil war
Approach where we have stood.
We’ve seen oppression’s cruel hand
Reeking with kindred blood.
Our solemn tolling for the dead
Falls on the mourner’s ear,
Then the bereav’d and aching heart
Feels desolate and drear.
Dirges we’ve rung for Kings and Queens
As they to the tomb went down,
Then joyfully welcom’d the heir
Who came to wear the crown.
We saw the star of Brunswick rise
And beam upon our strand,
We see its full refulgent ray
Illumine this happy land.
Victoria the sceptre sways,
And bright her virtues shine,
Long may she live, long may she reign
Best of her royal line.
We joyfully hail’d her natal day,
We hail’d her to the throne,
We blithely hail’d her nuptial hour,
For her we ne’er shall moan.
We’re taken from that turret grey
Where we for long have hung,
Like worn out lumber thrown away,
Forever mute, each tongue.
And now our changes all are rung
Here ends our dying song;
Our last our final peal is done:
Farewell! Farewell! Ding Dong.”[6]