Being the first Dumb Peal of this kind ever rang in this Kingdom, and conducted by
J. Allen.
If “Wm. Chapman deceased” deserved to be commemorated by such a singular feat, should not the commemoration of the feat itself be commemorated? Is R. Tape—(stay-Tape, though he now be)—everlasting Tape? Will he not “fall as the leaves do?” Shall “The Sun” itself move to and fro in the High Street of Bromley, as a sign, for ever? Can the golden inscription—in honour of “the first Dumb Peal of Grandsire Triples ever rang in this kingdom”—endure longer than corporation freedoms presented “in letters of gold,” which are scarcely seen while the enfranchised worthies live; nor survive them, except with their names, in the engulfing drawers of the lovers and collectors of hand-writings? The time must come when the eloquence of the auctioneer shall hardly obtain for the golden record of the “Bromley Youths” the value of the glass before it—when it shall increase a broker’s litter, and be of as little worth to him as Chatterton’s manuscript was to the cheesemonger, from whose rending fangs it was saved, the other day, by the “Emperor of Autographs.”
“A Dumb Peal of Grandsire Triples!”—I am no ringer, but I write the venerable appellation—as I read it—with reverence. There is a solemn and expressive euphony in the phrase, like that of a well-known sentence in Homer, descriptive of the billowings and lashings of the sea; which, the first time I heard it, seemed to me an essay by the father of Greek poesy towards universal language.
There is a harmony in the pealing of bells which cannot be violated, without discovery of the infraction by the merest tyro; and in virtue of the truth in bells, good ringers should be true men. There is, also, evidence of plainness and sincerity in the very terms of their art: a poem, “In praise of Ringing,” duly dignifies the practice, and sets forth some of them—
First, the Youths try One Single Bell to sound;
For, to perfection who can hope to rise,
Or climb the steep of science, but the man
Who builds on steady principles alone,
And method regular. Not he who aims
To plunge at once into the midst of art,
Self-confident and vain:—amazed he stands
Confounded and perplex’d, to find he knows
Least, when he thinks himself the most expert.
In order due to Rounds they next proceed,
And each attunes numerical in turn.
Adepts in this, on Three Bells they essay
Their infant skill. Complete in this, they try
Their strength on Four, and, musically bold,
Full four-and-twenty Changes they repeat.
Next, as in practice, gradual they advance
Ascending unto Five, they ring a peal
Of Grandsires,—pleasing to a tuneful soul!
On they proceed to Six. What various peals
Join’d with plain Bobs loud echo thro’ the air,
While ev’ry ear drinks in th’ harmonic sound.
With Grandsire Triples then the steeple shakes—&c.
Next come the musical Bob-majors, on eight bells,—Caters, on nine,—
On ten, Bobs-royal;—from eleven, Cinques
Accompanied with tenor, forth they pour;—
And the Bob-maximus results from twelve!
“Grandsire Triples!” My author says, “Ever since Grandsire Triples have been discovered or practised, 5040 changes manifestly appeared to view; but”—mark ye his ardent feeling under this—“but—to reach the lofty summit of this grand climax was a difficulty that many had encountered, though none succeeded; and those great names, Hardham, Condell, Anable, &c., who are now recorded on the ancient rolls of fame, had each exhausted both skill and patience in this grand pursuit to no other purpose than being convinced, that either the task itself was an utter impossibility, or, otherwise, that all their united efforts were unequal to it; and it is possible that this valuable piece of treasure would at this day have been fast locked up in the barren womb of sterile obscurity, had not a poor unlettered youth appeared, who no sooner approached this grand pile, but, as if by magic power, he varied it into whatever form he pleased, and made it at once subservient to his will!” It appears that this surprising person was Mr. John Holt “whose extraordinary abilities must forever excite the astonishment and admiration of all professors in this art, whether novices or adepts!” The first perfect peal of “Grandsire Triples” was John Holt’s; “it was rung at St. Margaret’s, Westminster, on Sunday, the 7th of July, 1751.” Be it remembered, that it is to commemorate the ringing of the first “complete peal of Grandsire Triples with the bells muffled,” by the “Bromley youths,” that they have placed their golden lines in the “Sun.”
The “Bromley Youths!” Why are ringers of all ages called “youths?” Is it from their continued service in an art, which by reason of multitudinous “changes” can never be wholly learned?—such, for instance, as in “the profession,” barristers whereof, are, in legal phraseology, “apprentices of the Law?”