It began when we heard the bells ringing at the church up the hill from our cottage. It was more than just a brief call to worship; they were ringing changes. Permutations, in the language of math. It’s where a group of trained bell ringers goes through a sequence, each person pulling his or her own bell at the appropriate time, and then the sequence is altered slightly, and then again, and again, and again. There are many well established, codified, and named changes in the genre—Cambridge Surprise Major, Reverse Canterbury Pleasure Place Doubles, Little Bob Minor, and many more. Not all are suitable to any specific church, as each requires its own complement of appropriately tuned bells. It’s not that easy, as each bell has its own physical characteristics that govern when and how hard you have to pull to get exactly the right sound at exactly the right time.
We found this interesting site after we got home. Just click and you can compose your own bell changes and play them back, or listen to a synthesized rendition of the classics! You can find everything on the Web!
Sue Anne grabbed her camera to record the sound on a video (which we will insert here when the opportunity becomes available), only to have the bells stop the instant she stepped out the door. Shucks! But it turned out to be just a rest break for the bell ringers. They started up again, and she captured some good samples. Steve decided to head up the hill to see what was going on, returning with the news that it was harvest festival, complete with lunch after the service.
Religious considerations of any sort aside, we thought it would be an unmissable experience, so we joined the throng heading up our lane to the Parish Church of St. Michael and All Angels. The mayor, recognizable by the ceremonial chain of office draped around his shoulders, and his wife (and her lovely hat), were there to greet the townsfolk on their way in.
It's a magnificent old church built from the 12th through 16th Centuries. It takes time to build a magnificent church, and some are never really finished! There’s a strangely detached, ground level bell tower there. We learned later that nobody knows why it was built a few yards away from the church itself, rather than making an attached high spire. It’s an FAQ (Frequently Asked Question) in town. We also found out why the tower was padlocked while the ringing was going on. No, it wasn't because nobody was really there and the ringing was being controlled by a computer. They had found it necessary to lock the tower in order to prevent the curious from coming in and distracting the bell ringers.
The church at the top of the lane, where we attended Harvest Service - Ledbury
The ancient church of St. Michael and All Angels - Ledbury
The service was very informal, as was the dress of most all present. We counted only three ladies wearing hats, one of whom was the aforementioned mayor’s wife. We recognized the traditional harvest and thanksgiving hymns, while others were of quite recent origin and contemporary in their words and music. The Lord’s Prayer was a contemporary version. Music was a mix of organ, guitar, and a quartet of string and flute. The family in the pew in front of us had been chosen to present a prayer to the congregation, each member delivering his or her portion of it, culminated by the well rehearsed Amen! provided by the youngest.
The rector involved the children of the parish in a few amusing activities, both of which illustrated a message related to the readings of the day. One included piling up cardboard boxes and the other identifying bird songs.
We enjoyed our outing to church, admittedly a rare event, for two reasons. One, it was a harvest festival and Ledbury is a farming center for apples, pears, hops, corn, and probably other delicious things. Children carried potatoes and cauliflowers, other vegetables and flowers too, to arrange on a small table as part of the offering. It was a thanksgiving service at actual harvest time rather than in late November, when it is really past that season. (Our 150-year ago New Hampshire neighbor Sarah Josepha Hale of Newport was the force behind Thanksgiving’s declaration as a national holiday in the US, but why in November? The Canadians do it in October, closer to harvest time.) Secondly, the service theme spoke of being thankful, living simply, trusting, and—here it comes—not worrying excessively about the upsetting financial climate. The rector was clearly of the ‘God is good’ school rather than the ‘We are sinners and miserable wretches awaiting the wrath of a vengeful God’ persuasion.
At the end of the service the rector announced that there were still a few seats available for the harvest lunch, and that anybody interested should speak to one of the people stationed at the back of the church. We did so, and being immediately recognized as visitors and from overseas we found ourselves in the good care of a wonderfully nice woman named Phyllis, who shepherded us through the rest of the event. It was held in the 14th Century St. Katherine’s Hall, just over on the other side of High Street, and attended by maybe a quarter of the number who had been at the service.
Phyllis found a table for all of us, where we were joined by her husband Malcolm and two of their friends. All were so very pleasant and friendly. Each had something in common with us that made for interesting conversation. One had recently visited Charleston, South Carolina, as had Sue Anne and Bruce. Another was born in Halifax, where we had been last week. Malcolm was a self-taught expert in the capitals of the 50 states, and proud of his ability to stump people who think that the well known big cities like New York, Miami, Baltimore, and Los Angeles just have to be the capitals of their states. They also brought the one American in the parish over to meet us, a woman from New Jersey who had come to England on a college exchange program, got married, and stayed.
The lunch consisted of a very generous buffet of food, with an equally generous array of desserts, accompanied by wine and wrapped up with coffee. Sue Anne and Bruce recognized a number of favorites, and Aimée and Steve took notes of new discoveries worth remembering and recreating with locally available ingredients once they got home.
After lunch we invited our new friends to see our cottage. While they probably walk past it many times each week, none had ever had the opportunity to see it from the inside. Then it was handshakes, thank yous, goodbyes, and a group picture.
After a brief rest the four of us got into the car and headed south to the city of Gloucester. We spent a good bit of time touring through the magnificent cathedral. Check out the powerful Anne Frank exhibit which we saw there. Then we went down to the restored area at the Victorian era Severn River docks. After that, a visit to the New Inn (That name always signifies that it’s a very old place, preceded in time only by an establishment that simply needed to be known as The Inn.), whose claim to fame is that it’s where Lady Jane Gray got the news that she was about to become queen. Lady Jane’s was a brief queenship, however, sadly terminated by the loss of her head. There was a lot of that going on at the time.
On a lighter note, it is said that Shakespeare and a traveling troupe acted in the open, U-shaped, street-level courtyard, with the audience watching from the open corridor one floor above. We tried hard to visualize this while we consumed ale and lager and delightfully flavored crisps (potato chips). We didn’t realize it at the time, but we found out later that the New Inn is operating as a hotel; it’s not just a pub. You can stay there. Click their link above for further detail. Then there was a final stop to look in the window of the nearby Beatrix Potter, Tailor of Gloucester shop, already closed for the day, and we were on the road back to to Ledbury.
We have parked a bit farther out than usual due to the congestion brought about by the setup for a carnival that begins tomorrow. AKA a Fun Fair. It’s a very large operation with rides strung out for quite some distance along the side of High Street through the center of town. We’ll get some pictures tomorrow.
After a light supper at our cottage, Aimée and Steve headed off to a phone booth (‘phone box’ in British) to try their luck at calling home, as we have both struck out on being able to make our cell phones (‘mobiles’ in British, with a long I) work. Success at last for their phone after a toll free chat with customer service, confirmed by a conversation between Aimée and Steve, one on the pay phone and the other also inside the phone box talking on the mobile! With a long I.
Our agenda for tomorrow is a visit to the Beckford Silk factory, lunch at our favorite country pub with old friends, and then to Stratford upon Avon. A full day.
We have had poor luck in getting to the Internet. We hoped that we might find a shop or café in Gloucester, but to no avail. All the WiFi signals in the area were either too weak or encrypted. We hope we can find something tomorrow. It takes extra time and effort to upload pictures and videos, and we might not be able to do as much of that as we hoped to till we get home. But stay tuned.
