In Virginia Woolf’s ‘Mrs Dalloway’, the eponymous heroine is waiting to cross a street in Westminster when, ‘[she] feels…a particular hush, or solemnity; an indescribable pause; a suspense before Big Ben strikes. There! Out it boomed. The leaden circles dissolved in the air.’ The novel, set immediately after the First World War, records the wonder of hearing the bell after it had been silenced for two years (1916-1918).
At Oscott, we, too, know such wonder.
During the first lockdown of 2020, when the seminarians had returned to their dioceses and as I walked the grounds, I became aware of the sad state of the weather vane atop the octagonal belfry on the College tower. It no longer moved and was rusting. Therefore, we decided to restore it.
However, in the process, we discovered what had been forgotten by most: the two bells in the belfry. One, the smaller, had no inscription, except for the date of 1841. Its history remains unknown. The other, with the date of 1837, was commissioned by the then President of the College, Henry Weedall, from the Whitechapel Bell Foundry in November of that year.
A few months before, he had also commissioned one for the Chapel’s belfry. That bell, with, probably hardly, an interruption, has been rung since New Oscott opened, marking the moments of elevation during Holy Mass, and sounding the Angelus.
The bells in the tower belfry, however, could no longer be sounded. They were destitute; for more than fifty years they had been silent. They could not swing and did not have clappers. On the floor of the belfry there was a rusted motorized striker unit, which would have enabled the larger bell to sound via a gravity-drop hammer but it was no longer in place. The smaller bell was missing two of its original six canons – the loops at the top of the bell, which keeps it secure – and, therefore, over time, was in danger of falling. It also needed further restoration, off-site, if it was to work once more.
A plan was devised.
The smaller bell was removed and stored. The larger bell was cleaned and an externally fitted electromagnetic chime hammer was installed. To what purpose? Besides the date of 1837, the bell has an inscription: OMNI NEGOTIO TEMPUS EST. ECCLES. Medieval English bells, more often than not, would be inscribed with a saint’s name and a request for their prayers. However, for the past few centuries, verses from Scripture have been more common.
The tower bell’s inscription comes from Ecclesiastes 8:6, ‘For everything there is a time.’ On 18 April 1838, the Chapel bell was consecrated in preparation of the opening of the new seminary building. Weedall gave a discourse on the ceremony to enable the community to better attend to its significance. He said:
‘This is the great lesson which the Bell is intended frequently to preach to us. – It will break in upon our occupations, whether serious or gay, whether lawful or unlawful. – Like the voice of Christ to Martha, it will remind us of the inutility of much that we are doing, perhaps even of its sinfulness – It will discourse, wisely and forcibly, of the value of the soul, and of the importance of attending to its salvation; of the shortness of time and the awful length of eternity. – It will sound like the solemn warnings of the last trumpet, and teach us to prepare whilst preparation is practicable.’
These words concerning the Chapel bell can be applied to the tower’s. Its new hammer is connected to an electronic clock, which has the bell chime the hours from 7 am to 10 pm, and the Angelus at 12 noon and 6 pm.
Once more, after half a century, the seminary community is reminded of the duties of the moment, invited to pause and pray, instructed that life is passing. The bell’s re-inauguration was the reception of the mortal remains of Canon Giles Goward, the twenty-fifth Rector of Oscott, on Sunday 7th February 2021. It tolled slowly, as the coffin was borne across the terrace and the snow fell. The chime of the tower bell has a beguiling timbre; it adds to the beauty of St Mary’s as its leaden circles dissolve in the air.