I have this thing for clocks: Big Ben

I love clocks.  Clocks on buildings and towers and streets–not just clocks in general.  There is something about the presence of a clock in the built environment that fascinates me.  Since the London trip was pre-blog days, I have been perusing the photographs again, and periodically posting.  Perhaps it is like a virtual vacation since I have not seen much outside of the grocery store and my front yard for months now.

Following a fire in 1834, much of the former Palace of Westminster was destroyed.  In 1835, a Royal Commission was appointed to plan for rebuilding.  The Commission declared a contest for submissions and required the stye had to be either Gothic or Elizabethan. Although Neoclassical was all the rage, British associated it with the White House design and said it represented rebellion and revolution.  They desired something more conservative.  The public competition was initiated in 1836 and 97 submissions were received.  The blind entries were identified by symbols, and number 64 was the unanimous choice.  No. 64 was architect Charles Barry, proposing a Gothic-styled palace to maintain harmony with the surviving buildings (Living Heritage: Architecture of the Palace).  Construction began in 1840, with an estimated construction time of six years.  Instead, it took over 30 years.  By 1847, however, the House of Lords chamber was completed and the House of Commons by 1852.  Barry had recruited the services of 23 year old Augustus Pugin for his expertise in Gothic design to aid him in drawing the plans.  Pugin further designed most of the interior and carried out the plans.  Pugin had fragile health and died in 1852; Barry died in 1860 and his son took over the completion of the work for the next decade.

At the north-eastern end of the Palace is the Elizabeth Tower, with its bell named Big Ben.  The four-faced clock was designed by Augustus Pugin, as was the tower.  The clock and the bell were not without issues, however.

The Clock at the Westminster Palace.–On Monday the clock in the clock tower of the Westminster Palace was set in motion, but the hands on two of the dials only acted effectually, viz, those on the west and north sides. No hour was struck, nor were the quarters chimed. The cause of the hands referred to not acting is stated to be that the machinery by which they are turned is not of a sufficient power to put all in motion, and that it will, therefore, be necessary to remove them and put up others of a lighter construction. It will, we believe, be some time yet before the machinery can be attached to the bells upon which the hours and quarters will be struck. (The Morning Chronicle, London, Greater London, England, June 1, 1859, p. 2)

A Thing Not Generally Known.–The Westminster Clock has been going for three weeks, with the hands attached, but none of the London papers have condescended to notice the fact. Those who have been to London and looked up at this clock, need not be told what a stupendous affair it is, but it will be news to them, and furnish some idea of the magnitude of the clock to others, to be told, that each minute-hand and its counterpoise weighs 6 1/2 cwt! and all the hands together, with the counterpoises, weigh above 2 1/4 tons! It is not safe, however, to let the clock work such ponderous hands, and they must be removed, to be replaced by lighter ones. The difficulty seems to be to get hands of sufficient strength yet not of excessive weight. The minute hands referred to above, are made of gun metal, and the maker undertook that they should not exceed 2 cwt., but without saying a word to Mr. Denison, in order to get the requisite strength he increased the weight more than threefold. (The Bradford Observer, Bradford, West Yorkshire, England, June 30, 1859, p. 5)

The bell, cast by Messrs. Warner, was heavier than expected,  and a clapper larger than expected was required to ring it.  Under trials, the bell broke before it was installed.  The bell was broken for recasting and it was discovered that the first casting had failure.  Messrs. Mears recast the second bell, said to be “magnificent” (Jackson’s Oxford Journal, Oxford, Oxfordshire, England, Oct. 8, 1859, p. 3). While the bell itself was declared magnificent and in testing, found to be “the largest and finest bell ever cast in England, when installed, instead of the usual mode of having some freedom in the swing for the bell to move when struck,

…contrary to the experience of all bell-hangers from time immemorial, Big Ben was firmly bolted to the beam from which he hung and made as rigid as the walls of the tower itself. Thus fixed, his tone was tried; the clapper was swung to its full extent. The result, as may easily be anticipated, was, that the rigid bell acted like a gigantic lever upon the bell frame, which worked dangerously, while it was evident that the tone of the bell itself was seriously impaired by the rigidity of its fastenings, which of course prevented much of the vibration.

To make a long story a wee bit shorter, without the possibility of the bell yielding under the blows, Ben broke…again.  The clock had to be removed, the bell taken down, broken up, and recast for the third time.  The public was annoyed at the waste of time and money, and the endless blaming of each other–the clock-maker, the architect, the bell maker, and the Board of Works.  Can you just imagine the Twitter wars?

Finally, in December of 1863,

The Exeter Flying Post or Trewman’s Plymouth and Cornish Advertiser, Nov. 11, 1863, p. 8