On becoming a bellringer, Part One. Guest post by CathyR

The Birth of an Obsession

Ropes up

I'm not sure how most people get drawn into bell ringing. Of course, we know the influence exerted by the owner of this blog on certain readers in counties and continents far and wide. I'd already become a ringer, however, before discovering Robin by searching for blogs about bell ringing. The obsession began just over two years ago. I'd gone to a small village church (St Michael's) to take photographs of the ringers on a practice night. (I was one of a small internet photography group who had been asked to create a folder of photos to keep in the church for visitors). So, I turned up with the camera, not knowing what to expect. What struck me immediately as I watched was the way in which the ringers were all aiming to achieve something as a team that none of them could achieve alone – and how much they enjoyed what they were doing. Wow, I thought. I like that idea. I'd like to be part of something like that ….

Old bell

This bell, the heaviest of the original three, was cast in 1664, and has been on display in St Michael's since 1938, when the ring was augmented to six, as it was not in good enough condition to be reused. *

And so I returned the following Friday, for a few more photos, and was persuaded (not that it took much persuasion) by Frank (the Tower Captain) and the others to "have a go". A few pulls on the backstroke (of course, I didn't know it was "the backstroke" at that stage, it was just the end of the rope), and I'd actually made the bell sound! I knew straight away that I wanted to learn more, but was a bit hesitant about the whole "church" aspect, to be honest. Was bellringing only for those with Christian religious belief? Would I be obliged, once ringing on Sundays, to attend church? Just how much commitment would be required? Somewhat tentatively, I asked Frank, and was immediately reassured that not all bellringers are churchgoers by any means, and that the only "church" commitment would be ringing for two Sunday services a month. (Little did I know then, that a year down the line I wouldn't be able to get enough ringing)!

Reassured, I started my first individual lessons, with a tied bell. To tie a bell, Frank (aged 75) goes up into the ringing chamber, clambers over and around the bell frame, and grovels around in the dust and muck under the bells in order to tie the clapper of the practice bell so that it doesn't swing. In this way, although the "feel" of the bell is somewhat different because of the lack of clapper swing, early ringing can be practised without any noise disturbing anyone else.

One of the St Michael's bells

There was so much to think about in terms of just being safe and handling the rope and bell that initially it was quite overwhelming. One of the very first instructions Frank gave me was "don't ever let go of the rope. BUT, if I say 'let go', then let go immediately!" Initially I was just ringing the backstroke, or just ringing the handstroke; by lesson three I was putting the two actions together. That's when it gets really tricky! It's the "feeling" for and of the bell that is so crucial, its weight and momentum, its behaviour and how to recognize that behaviour from below via 50 feet of rope. Many times the rope went loose and floppy, spiralling out of control, as I tried to use it to *push* the bell back up again because of something I'd done wrong. "Let go!", and Frank would rescue me yet again. The Indian Rope Trick is definitely unsuccessful in these situations!

Despite all this, I did make good progress, and when I could by and large ring a bell under (some semblance of) control, the time came to join a practice evening and ring a bell "aloud" for the first time. Now I had to look at other ringers and ropes, and try to keep in time and sequence with them, as well as manage my own ringing! Concentrating on trying to ring in the right place, and any semblance of bell control vanished. As I tried to focus on bell handling and control, I was nowhere near the right place in the sequence! Would I ever master this? I doubted it often, and in the early days there was such frustration – but also huge elation and satisfaction when small goals were achieved.

Slowly, things improved. I became less of a hazard to myself and others. I could be trusted to ring without such close supervision. About seven weeks after starting, I visited another tower for the first time. I went with Frank, just to have a look. "I'm NOT ringing in a strange place, I'm not good enough, I can't do it"! So, we got there and again, I was persuaded by Peter, the Tower Captain, to have a go on my own. He stood close by me, things remained under control … so far, so good. Then … " take hold for rounds around Cathy", and all of a sudden five other ringers were there, ringing with me! I still remember just how good that felt; ringing rounds almost without going wrong and losing my place. I had a grin like a Cheshire Cat for the whole evening! Frank was so proud of me, and I was so pleased to have made him proud.

Some months after my first lessons, I was deemed good enough to begin Sunday service ringing. Ringing in public, when it really matters! On display! I was so anxious, I couldn't eat any breakfast the morning of my first service ring! But at the same time, I recognized it as another milestone in my ringing progress. But service ringing always caters to the least able ringer present, and with the simplest ringing possible, I got through my first service rings unscathed!

I had become a bellringer!

* * *

* And very sadly, this bell has just been stolen whilst the church was, as usual, unlocked and open during the day for visitors. It seems that the bell was somehow dragged out of the church and through the churchyard to a distant corner, and tipped over the low wall onto the back of a truck parked in the quiet lane, away from the village itself. No reputable scrap metal dealer would deal with something so obviously stolen, and of such obvious historical and cultural value, but it will undoubtedly have been melted down by now by the thieves' associates. A very sad loss for the church, the bellringers, and the public.