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Bell Tower Maintenance Log: 1732–1741 (Mostly Guesswork After Page 3)

 

PARISH ARCHIVE REFERENCE: BTM-1732-ND

TRANSCRIPT SITE: St. Jude-in-the-Fens (Reconstructed Fragmentary Folio)

MATERIAL STATE: Heavy water damage, vellum scorched at margins, extensive ink erosion after Entry 4.

​Entry 1: May 4, 1732

​Log Specialist: G. Weyck, Appointed Warden

Status: Mechanically Sound.

​Ascended the tower stairs at daybreak with three quarts of lard and a fresh hemp cable. The main crown wheel shows negligible wear along the northern teeth. Cleaned the bird lime from the striking arbor and oiled the pivot pins. The tenor bell drops cleanly into the valley fog at six beats past the hour. The village relies on the iron pulse; it keeps the field laborers moving in unison. Everything runs to the order of the ledger.

​Entry 2: November 11, 1734

​Log Specialist: G. Weyck

Status: Minor Structural Drift.

​The wind has been coming straight out of the eastern salt marshes for three weeks, bringing a dampness that sits in the oak beams. The wood is swelling. I had to shorten the pendulum drop by two notches to stop the midnight strike from leaking into the morning prayers. Added horse fat to the escape lever. A strange vibration travels down the rope when the bell returns from its swing—a sort of shudder, like the bronze is trying to clear its throat before the hammer falls.

​Entry 3: August 29, 1737

​Log Specialist: G. Weyck (Handwriting shows significant lateral tremors)

Status: Indeterminate.

​The third page of the original ledger was ruined by grease, so I am writing this on the back of an old tax receipt. I have stopped counting the teeth on the escape wheel because they appear to change number between the noon toll and the vespers. The grease is going thin. I applied the oil, but by afternoon the iron was dry again, as if the machine is drinking the lubrication through its pores. The village says the bells sound lower in pitch. I told them the bronze is simply experiencing heavy fatigue due to an overuse of Sundays this summer. The calendar is too crowded; the metal needs a silent month to cool down.

​Entry 4: [Date Missing, Likely Winter 1739]

​Log Specialist: [Unsigned, ink density varies wildly]

Status: Maintenance Executed by Consensus.

​The stairs are gone cold. Did not go up the ladder today, but executed the ghost lubrication schedule from the kitchen table by thinking about the gears. If you picture the oil dropping onto the wheel, the friction leaves the mind. The clock struck fourteen times during the Tuesday market, yet no one looked up from their carts. They are becoming accustomed to the drift. The pendulum isn't swinging on an arc anymore; it is bobbing up and down like a cork in a well.

​Marginal Note in Red Ochre: The gears don't need the oil. They need the names of the people who died since the last clearing.


​Entry 5: April 2, 1741

​Log Specialist: None.

Status: Closed by Order of the Vestry.

​The following line is written across the entire width of the sheepskin, obliterating the previous records of weight changes and rope expenditures:

do not let it ring twice if the fog is thinking.

The ink here is mixed with crushed soot and tallow. Below the line, a series of thirty-seven small vertical hash marks are scratched into the leather with a knife blade, though there are only three bells in the tower framework. The rope was found cut at the ceiling line, and the tracking gears have been packed with dry fen-moss to keep the wheels from turning when the wind rises. The key to the hatch has been dropped down the parish well.


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