Ringing the Old Bell

While writing a story about working in the kitchen during Mrs. Shep’s reign, I thought of how hard ringing the meal bell was back then. No, really. They’ve changed bell ringing apparatus. Even the post it sits atop is different. Back in the day, it took some skill, and a little bit of bravery, to attempt and succeed at ringing the bell.

The problem was that if one approached the bell with a pull-pull-pull frame of mind, the bell would swing part way, about 160 degrees, ring once and then lock up.  Then there was no moving it by pulling the cable.

The fact was that it was deceptively easy to get it stuck. You couldn’t treat it like a friend, you had to sort of sneak up on it. And speaking of friends, some of those staff who knew how to do it correctly, were disinclined to share – at least until after the unsuspecting staff (usually the new staff) had provided a desired amount of amusement. But even some of the old hands had trouble.

The bell was located on top of a 10-foot-high tree trunk. There was no ladder up, one just climbed anyway they could. It wasn’t unheard of a staff freezing the bell upside down and just walking away, leaving someone else to do it, or leaving the important communication function of the bell ringing (wake-up, and meal schedule) uncommunicated. 

For that reason, ringing the bell was a kitchen staff rite of passage. Everyone who worked in the kitchen had to learn to do it. Mrs. Shep wasn’t too keen on those staff who froze the bell and walked away. I once saw Mrs. Shep successfully ring the bell. She’d learned the trick but she only did it once that I knew of. She didn’t need to show off.

To recap, in doing it the wrong way, the bell would swing part way, ring once, then remain stuck in the position until the ringer climbed the trunk and rotated the bell to its right position. No amount of tugging would fix the problem.

So far, I have only talked about skill, now I is time to talk about bravery. Most of the time the bell ringer had an audience outside the Kirby Lodge. By the third meal bell rang everyone in Camp was near Kirby, waiting to get in. All with eyes on the bell ringer, a challenging experience for the novice or near novice. Knowing the bell might beat you (again) took courage to walk out the kitchen door and go the thirty steps to the bell, stopping briefly for nourishment at the water fountain.

I knew one assistant cook who would only ring it on the first and second bell, not on the third bell when there was an audience. He would refuse to do it but had the bakery goods available to make a satisfying deal with his cronies. He reasoned that getting the bell stuck was embarrassing to him, only if he was the one doing it. If he didn’t do it, he wouldn’t be humiliated. No one challenged his rational, or his caramel rolls.

On a normal, everyday school bell or fire bell or church bell, doing the pull-pull-pull method would produce the desired clang-clang-clang.

At Widjiwagan, the trick was to use a different rhythm and pull the bell out of its arc before it stuck, say at 135 degrees. Then it would clang once, and immediately once more so quickly that you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between clangs. The secret was to do the double snap-and-pause motion, a pull-pull-rest action and the bell would go clang-clang, clang-clang, clang-clang all day long, likely confusing those who used the bells as a clock signaling an impending meal. Clang-clang was the sound of successful ringing.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *