An Unfortunate
Experience
With Bells

After a perplexing series of cracking bells, including one from Paul Revere, the Randolph Center Church installed a 946-pound keeper in 1849. (Herald photo / Robert Eddy)

Forty-two years ago Wes Herwig pieced together the story of the cracked bells from the files of William Nutting, one of the town’s early distinguished citizens. The bell ringer information came to light this year.—Mim Herwig

By Wes and Mim Herwig

(Note: Just as the print edition was printed, one of the authors of this article, Wes Herwig, died at age 80. An obituary will appear next week.)

What fascinating stories old town records can yield! Take this 1829 Randolph document:

"Agreed with Laban Blodgett to ring the bell three times per day and for all public meetings, deaths and funerals; to sweep the meetinghouse after every town meeting, in the morning. He is to have the use of the burying ground and $20.00."

The bell referred to was in the Randolph Center Church, which doubled as the Town meetinghouse. But three times a day?

In those days many households could not afford clocks-and those which could had to pay a tax on them. Therefore it was important for the bellringer to proclaim time to begin work at 6 a.m., time for nooning at 12, and curfew at 9 p.m. The sound of a large bell could be heard for three miles.

Fortunately, Laban lived nearby on Water Street. When there was a death, he tolled the bell once for every year of the person’s age. The last time the church bell was tolled was when President Kennedy was assassinated.

The use of the cemetery was puzzling. If Laban didn’t need to be buried, what on earth could he use the cemetery for? Perhaps he could mow the grass to feed whatever livestock he possessed. Or—more debatable—he could let his sheep crop between the gravestones.

In 1830 a new agreement read, "agreed with John Blodgett 2d to ring the bell for one year the same as agreed with Laban Blodgett last year, as before, except he is to have but $19.50." But John never collected the full sum, because a note was added to the agreement. "Left off ringing the bell Oct. 4, 1830, on account of bell being broke."

It turns out that the bell had been cast by none other than Paul Revere in 1818, the year of his death. The comforting sound of a bell was sorely missed, but there would be no more Revere bells. Although Revere cast over 400 bells in all, a relatively small number have survived. Vermont counts six Revere bells within its boundaries today. Four of these are in Woodstock, one is in Bellows Falls, and Norwich can boast the other.

After due deliberation so typical of town fathers, Paul Revere’s bell was lowered from the church belfry in 1833 and Randolph Center lost what today would be a choice possession.

The church’s second bell, an 858 pounder, came from the foundry of G.H. Holbrook of East Medway, Mass. Part of the cost of this bell was defrayed by a "trade-in" allowance granted for Revere’s cracked bell. Holbrook made bells for many Vermont churches, including the one which stood at Brookfield Center until its removal to Connecticut in 1949.

Alas! Within a few years the Holbrook bell also cracked, and in 1938 it was deemed necessary to arrange for a new one for the newly rebuilt meetinghouse-the present edifice. Subscriptions were taken up among church members, and when $100 had been reached, Samuel French, a merchant who made frequent business trips to Massachusetts, was dispatched to Holbrook's foundry with the old bell, and ordered to return with another not to exceed 800 pounds.

The $100 cash and the cracked bell’s junk value were sufficient to cover the cost of a new bell in that weight class.

But apparently the bell salesman saw French coming, for he was persuaded to accept a big bell—1048 pounds at 26¢ a pound. When French and his tired team pulled into town with the oversized bell and a due bill for $49.74, he created no little consternation.

Then, in less than a year, this bell, too, developed a crack, which rendered it useless. Soon afterward French was caught up in the western migration and left town.

After considerable wrangling over the terms of a hand-scrawled warrantee, the Bay State bell maker, through his agent, one John Baker, agreed to furnish another bell in exchange. This new bell, delivered in June 1840, was less weighty, and the church society received a credit memo for $80.50, with the stipulation that it be used toward the purchase of a clock, similar to the one installed by Holbrook in Chelsea in 1838.

Within eight months, however, bell number four struck a sour note one Sunday morning. Delegated investigators climbed the narrow steps to the belfry and came down with the sad report—"cracked."

Attempts were made to get Holbrook to live up to his warrantee again, but his agent argued that the foundry had made good one bell and its responsibility ended at that point. The good fathers of the church were quite discouraged with Holbrook bells and "this annual expense," at this stage of the game. They refused to buy another and even forfeited their credit toward the clock they once dreamed of, the white circles on three sides of the steeple remained empty of clock faces for 143 years, or until 1974.

About this time the church must have thought its belfry was jinxed, for there is no evidence that there was need of a bell ringer for several years. However, in 1849 a move was instituted to buy a new bell.

This time an inquiry was directed to Andrew Meneely’s foundry in West Troy, N.Y. Mr. Meneely responded with glowing testimonials and the promise that he would provide a bell "warranteed to stand one year and in tone to please," for 28¢ a pound.

The New Yorker clinched an order when he told the committee—Messrs. Nutting, Parkhurst and Fargo—that he would allow them 22¢ a pound for their cracked bell, because of their "unfortunate" experience with bells. This was a whole two cents above the going price for cracked bells, he hastened to state.

Meneely’s bell, weighing 946 pounds, left West Troy by a new mode of transportation–the railroad. It reached its destination by a roundabout trip, being routed "by way of Worcester, Mass., and Nashua, N.H." This is understandable in view of the fact that rail travel in northern New England was still in the developmental stage. The Vermont Central R.R. had completed its line from White River Junction to Burlington only five weeks before it chugged into West Randolph with the bell destined for the hilltop church.

Freight charges for "one bell, yoke and clapper" with a total weight of 1150 pounds, amounting to $8,07, according to the original receipt.

The new bell was hoisted to its lofty perch in August of 1849, and the congregation must have prayed fervently that its bell troubles were at an end. Andrew Meneely’s warrantee never had to be questioned, for his bell lived up to expectations.

It still hangs in the belfry at Randolph Center and rings out every Sunday morning. And, even as Mr. Meneely promised, it still has a "tone to please."

By Wes and Mim Herwig