Post by Waverley on Aug 5, 2007 15:01:33 GMT 1
From Glasgow's Treasure Chest by James Cowan aka Peter Prowler.
The Tolbooth Steeple (August 1933)
When, along with a friend, I was ushered in at the door of the Tolbooth steeple by Mr. Herbert, the genial carillonist, I was surprised to find that the stair up which we were to climb
was comparatively roomy and well lighted; for I had always pictured the interior as likely to be dark and uncomfortable. Another thing that surprised me was that, although the tower is square outside, it is round inside.
Mounting slowly we paused at a curious little grating about 2ft. square in the wall; and this, I learned, used to be the opening of a shaft down which hung the ropes from the belfry, so that the bells could be rung from that level without the need to climb to the top. This shaft, however, is now bricked up. A little farther and we came to a stone crown built into the wall. This stone is not an original part of the steeple, and its origin and meaning have been something of a puzzle to antiquarians; but it is supposed to have been brought from the Bishop's Palace which used to stand near the Cathedral.
The next point of interest was a landing in the centre of which was a wooden shaft. In its dim interior could be seen the great pendulum of the steeple clock swinging solemnly to and fro; and by pushing my head well in and looking up, I conld discern the huge weights which operate the clock mechanism. At the bottom of the shaft there is a box containing coarse sand several feet deep, for catching these weights if they should fall, "as they sometimes do," remarked Mr. Herbert; so I promptly withdrew my head.
On reaching the level of the clock, I monn ted a ladder to "see the 'ldzeels go wound" at close quarters. Peering in among the maze of cogs, I was startled by a voice hailing me apparently from their midst, and it took me a few seconds to locate the face of Mr. Herbert who was looking through at me from the other side.
Just above the clock is the little room from which the bells are operated, and here one's attention is at once arrested by thp strikingly handsome portrait of Mr. Herbert's father, the late Mr. Thomas Herbert. Then one notices the keyboard, consisting of two rows of handles like rounder-bats sticking out horizontally.
Soon we were watching the amazing dexterity with which the carillonist manipulated these handles. Being invited to ask for any tune we would like to hear, "The Bells of Aberdovey" was slyly suggested by my friend as one that would be likely to puzzle the player to produce; but he merely looked up an index, and, unearthing a time-worn music-book from a box, was soon sending out the merry melody.
While Mr. Herbert and my friend discussed old tunes, I climbed the little stair into the belfry above, and was amazed at the splendour of the view, for it was a fine evening, and the sunlight showed up many a beautiful grouping of the city's buildings. There is work for some artist to do from this vantage-point, so near to the very heart of Glasgow.
As I gazed, my ears were suddenly assailed by the full clangour of the great bells beside me. Mr. Herbert had begun" The Rowan Tree," and the volume of sound was so overwhelming that I had to stop my ears firmly, and even then it was rather much for me, so I went down the stair again to the little room. Here I noted the names of the various bellringers, of whom there have been nine since the year 1738. Since 1830 the privilege of ringing the bells has been in the allied families of Bayne and Herbert. The present Mr. Wm. Herbert has officiated since 1924.
There are 16 small bells and a large one in the Tolbooth chimes. They were cast in 1881 by Messrs. John C. Wilson and Co., Gorbals Foundry, Glasgow.
The Tolbooth Steeple (August 1933)
When, along with a friend, I was ushered in at the door of the Tolbooth steeple by Mr. Herbert, the genial carillonist, I was surprised to find that the stair up which we were to climb
was comparatively roomy and well lighted; for I had always pictured the interior as likely to be dark and uncomfortable. Another thing that surprised me was that, although the tower is square outside, it is round inside.
Mounting slowly we paused at a curious little grating about 2ft. square in the wall; and this, I learned, used to be the opening of a shaft down which hung the ropes from the belfry, so that the bells could be rung from that level without the need to climb to the top. This shaft, however, is now bricked up. A little farther and we came to a stone crown built into the wall. This stone is not an original part of the steeple, and its origin and meaning have been something of a puzzle to antiquarians; but it is supposed to have been brought from the Bishop's Palace which used to stand near the Cathedral.
The next point of interest was a landing in the centre of which was a wooden shaft. In its dim interior could be seen the great pendulum of the steeple clock swinging solemnly to and fro; and by pushing my head well in and looking up, I conld discern the huge weights which operate the clock mechanism. At the bottom of the shaft there is a box containing coarse sand several feet deep, for catching these weights if they should fall, "as they sometimes do," remarked Mr. Herbert; so I promptly withdrew my head.
On reaching the level of the clock, I monn ted a ladder to "see the 'ldzeels go wound" at close quarters. Peering in among the maze of cogs, I was startled by a voice hailing me apparently from their midst, and it took me a few seconds to locate the face of Mr. Herbert who was looking through at me from the other side.
Just above the clock is the little room from which the bells are operated, and here one's attention is at once arrested by thp strikingly handsome portrait of Mr. Herbert's father, the late Mr. Thomas Herbert. Then one notices the keyboard, consisting of two rows of handles like rounder-bats sticking out horizontally.
Soon we were watching the amazing dexterity with which the carillonist manipulated these handles. Being invited to ask for any tune we would like to hear, "The Bells of Aberdovey" was slyly suggested by my friend as one that would be likely to puzzle the player to produce; but he merely looked up an index, and, unearthing a time-worn music-book from a box, was soon sending out the merry melody.
While Mr. Herbert and my friend discussed old tunes, I climbed the little stair into the belfry above, and was amazed at the splendour of the view, for it was a fine evening, and the sunlight showed up many a beautiful grouping of the city's buildings. There is work for some artist to do from this vantage-point, so near to the very heart of Glasgow.
As I gazed, my ears were suddenly assailed by the full clangour of the great bells beside me. Mr. Herbert had begun" The Rowan Tree," and the volume of sound was so overwhelming that I had to stop my ears firmly, and even then it was rather much for me, so I went down the stair again to the little room. Here I noted the names of the various bellringers, of whom there have been nine since the year 1738. Since 1830 the privilege of ringing the bells has been in the allied families of Bayne and Herbert. The present Mr. Wm. Herbert has officiated since 1924.
There are 16 small bells and a large one in the Tolbooth chimes. They were cast in 1881 by Messrs. John C. Wilson and Co., Gorbals Foundry, Glasgow.