From London Cameos, A.H. Blake:
Just a simple hand-bell on a shelf in a City church, yet it rang out the doom of hundreds of victims about to die a horrible death within a few hours at Tyburn tree.
The church in question is St. Sepulcher's, aka Saint Sepulchre-without-Newgate, which stands on the north side of Holborn Viaduct across a crossroads from the Old Bailey, and its parish takes in Smithfield Market. During medieval times, the site lay outside ("without") the city wall, west of the Newgate.
The bell was paid for by a tailor, Robert Dowe, who stipulated in his will that the bell be rung for each condemned man outside the cell on midnight on the day of execution. A midnight prayer was recited, and a bouquet of flowers would be presented before the last journey, all paid for by Dowe's endowment. This little flower ceremony took place on the porch of the church, after which the condemned went marching off to Tyburn tree.
The recitation was:
All you that in the condemned hold do lie,
Prepare you, for to-morrow you shall die;
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear;
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent.
And when St Sepulchre's bell to-morrow tolls,
The Lord above have mercy on your souls.
Past twelve o'clock!
It gave the condemned a few hours warning (not that they needed it, most like) so they had time for a last prayer. Dowe made this arrangement in 1605, and the bell was in use up to the 19th century, so three centuries or so worth of dead men were led off by the ringing of the Doom Bell.
It's not the only 17th Century antiquity at St. Sepulcher's. The church organ dates to 1670 and, in a Bookhounds game, has been recently rebuilt (1932). The Doom Bell in the present day sits in a glass case but, judging by Blake's description, in the 1930s it would have been resting on a shelf. Anyone who wanted to could touch it.
For Whom The Bell Tolls
A well-known musician, Benjamin Pettiman, is looking for whatever the Bookhounds have on their shelves about curses, and Saint Sepulchre-without-Newgate. According to Pettiman, two have died by hanging and he doesn't intend to be the third.
Pettiman is one of a group of musicians who regularly practice at the Musicians' Chapel, part of St. Sepulcher's. They were all trained from childhood at the church and learned their love of music playing on the church organ. However, ever since the organ was rebuilt there's been a spate of small calamities at St. Sepulcher's, and of the group of musicians two have hung themselves. At least, that's the official verdict; death by suicide.
Pettiman isn't convinced. According to him the two were plagued by peculiar dreams. Each dreamed they were in the condemned cell at Tyburn; each dreamed they heard the ringing of the Doom Bell. This happened for three nights before the final night, and each died on the fourth night.
Pettiman heard the bell ringing last night. That means he has two nights to go before the end.
Option One: Bad Pipe. As part of the organ repair pipes were salvaged from a peculiar organ discovered at an abandoned chapel. Research shows that the chapel was used by the Church of Starry Wisdom and its organ supposedly had peculiar properties, though nobody living remembers what those properties were. The pipes ring in horrid sympathy with the dead spirits that cling to the bell, and those dead spirits demand their pound of flesh.
Option Two: Dead Man Walking. A talented musician, thwarted in his ambitions, is using the Bell to clear the path. This musician, Joshua Fowle, knows he'll never get the recognition he craves while his rivals still breathe, so he's found a magical means of doing them in. He can summon up the spirit of the bell by playing a particular tune on the organ, a dirge that he found in a collection of manuscripts bought at the Hound's own shop. What he doesn't understand is, the more times he summons up the spirit of the Doom Bell, the more likely it is to break free.
Option Three: Self-Inflicted. Pettiman himself is the source of the problem. He walks in his sleep and it's he who rings the Doom Bell for his colleagues and, eventually, himself. He has no idea he's doing this and he does not know why. The Hounds may discover that he's been possessed by an antique spirit, a hanged man from the 1700s who wants more to join him in death. Once Pettiman is dead the possessing spirit will need someone else to inhabit - perhaps one of the Hounds.
That's it for this week. Enjoy!
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