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Yesterday, I climbed Big Ben. Or rather, I climbed the Clock Tower; as every trivia fan/pedant knows, Big Ben is the nickname of the bell that strikes the hour. The tour is free, you just write to your MP to request it, although you don't get much choice over the time and date and you have to give all kinds of personal info and no photos are allowed. The guide was an entertaining, knowledgeable cockney who congratulated us every time we'd climbed a hundred steps. Two breaks were included, the first in Room 1 which was once an MP's prison, housing the unruly overnight until they'd learned their lesson. I thought it would be good for those taking cash for questions or fiddling their expenses, but the last person imprisoned was Charles Bradlaugh, the atheist MP for Northampton who refused to take the Oath of Allegiance in 1880.
The second stop was actually behind the clock faces, where we could see the minute hand moving every 2 seconds. I had to resist the urge to jump through the panes of glass a la Downey-Holmes. The top point was in the belfry where, at 3 p.m., we witnessed the famous bongs (we also heard the quarter chimes and the fourth bong sounded a bit flat to me). We learned that when the Whitechapel Bell Foundry delivered the clock, they found that it was a foot longer than the door. Some years later, a hairline crack was discovered that made the hour BONG half a tone flat. The bell was silenced for three years whilst the Foundry and the Clock Tower argued about who was to blame until the Astronomer Royal suggested turning the bell a bit to the right so the hammer hit a different part of the bell. It's good to know that even at the height of British engineering prowess, we were still a bit crap. Big Ben is thought to be named so after a robust MP, Benjamin Hall, who was in charge of overseeing the bell's construction and had his name inscribed upon it. We also learned that the government employs two hawks to keep pigeons, gulls, starlings, house-martins etc away from the tower. I bet those birds over-claim for their bird seed and flip their nests.
There is a plaque with words written for the Cambridge chimes* erected for the 100th anniversary of the clock tower's completion in 1959 and also a 150th commemoration plaque erected in 2009. In 2059, if I'm still around, I intend to be boring people about how I went up when the clock was still mechanical - because I can't see how the mechanics can go on forever. The engineers keep the clock on time by adding or taking away an old, pre-decimal penny to or from the pendulum rod. Jeez. I know we British are famous for our tradition and heritage, but really, can that kind of thing go on for eternity? In 3059, will they still be doing it? I do wonder if the Houses of Parliament were designed in a Mediaeval style to create a feeling of permanency, like a Tudorbethan house.
We also were allowed to look (a little bit) around Portcullis House; our chirpy guide pointed out the room where Rupert Murdoch gave evidence to the Leveson Enquiry and was almost face-pied.
* The tune is apparently because the clock's designer, Edmund Denison, liked the chimes from St Mary's church in Cambridge, where he studied. The church in the village where I grew up is also called St Mary's and plays the same tune, but we used to sing different words to it at Brownies.
The second stop was actually behind the clock faces, where we could see the minute hand moving every 2 seconds. I had to resist the urge to jump through the panes of glass a la Downey-Holmes. The top point was in the belfry where, at 3 p.m., we witnessed the famous bongs (we also heard the quarter chimes and the fourth bong sounded a bit flat to me). We learned that when the Whitechapel Bell Foundry delivered the clock, they found that it was a foot longer than the door. Some years later, a hairline crack was discovered that made the hour BONG half a tone flat. The bell was silenced for three years whilst the Foundry and the Clock Tower argued about who was to blame until the Astronomer Royal suggested turning the bell a bit to the right so the hammer hit a different part of the bell. It's good to know that even at the height of British engineering prowess, we were still a bit crap. Big Ben is thought to be named so after a robust MP, Benjamin Hall, who was in charge of overseeing the bell's construction and had his name inscribed upon it. We also learned that the government employs two hawks to keep pigeons, gulls, starlings, house-martins etc away from the tower. I bet those birds over-claim for their bird seed and flip their nests.
There is a plaque with words written for the Cambridge chimes* erected for the 100th anniversary of the clock tower's completion in 1959 and also a 150th commemoration plaque erected in 2009. In 2059, if I'm still around, I intend to be boring people about how I went up when the clock was still mechanical - because I can't see how the mechanics can go on forever. The engineers keep the clock on time by adding or taking away an old, pre-decimal penny to or from the pendulum rod. Jeez. I know we British are famous for our tradition and heritage, but really, can that kind of thing go on for eternity? In 3059, will they still be doing it? I do wonder if the Houses of Parliament were designed in a Mediaeval style to create a feeling of permanency, like a Tudorbethan house.
We also were allowed to look (a little bit) around Portcullis House; our chirpy guide pointed out the room where Rupert Murdoch gave evidence to the Leveson Enquiry and was almost face-pied.
* The tune is apparently because the clock's designer, Edmund Denison, liked the chimes from St Mary's church in Cambridge, where he studied. The church in the village where I grew up is also called St Mary's and plays the same tune, but we used to sing different words to it at Brownies.
