My Curfew Bell, instituted and endowed in 1457, by Mr. John Colston, and who was buried in St. Giles’s Church, has now rung continuously for some 450 years. And although some people may think this evening tolling of a bell for a quarter of an hour a nuisance, it has in this particular case this merit, that it acts, or has done, as a sort of daily almanac, seeing that the day of the month is told at the end of the quarter of an hour’s ringing, each evening, by a number of strokes on a different bell, corresponding to the day of the month.
The name “Curfew,” you doubtless know to be derived from the French _Couvre-feu_, or cover fire. And also that the custom in olden times of a public ringing of a bell, or sounding a horn, for the putting out of fires and retiring into houses for the night, arose from the out-door dangers of those less civilised times, and from the inflammable nature of many of the wooden and thatched houses then existing. One such fire in Norwich (in 1507) is said to have destroyed seven hundred houses, including many in my own parish. Who does not know Gray’s lines on this Curfew custom?
“The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea; The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.”
And we doubtless also remember Longfellow’s beautiful verses on this old custom:—
“Solemnly, mournfully, Dealing its dole, The Curfew Bell Is beginning to toll.
“Cover the embers, And put out the light; Toil comes with the morning, And rest with the night.
“Dark grow the windows, And quenched is the fire; Sound fades into silence; All footsteps retire.
“No voice in the chambers, No sound in the hall; Sleep and oblivion Reign over all!”
With all this, and what I have now said, I think I may claim that I—the Tower—have fully discharged the general duty of public usefulness, and am a great public benefactor. My beacon pail is no longer required; but by my weather-cock I tell the direction of the wind; by my clock I tell the time of day; and by the final strokes of my curfew bell at night, I act as an almanac, and tell the day of the month—for the benefit not only of my neighbours, but to the great multitude of the passers-by. { 108} And let it not be forgotten that all this implies not only the discharge of public duty, but also the expenditure of money, necessary to keep the various arrangements for these in correct and working order—money which has to be provided by the parish of St. Giles.