American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1874-11-21
A Night With Big Ben.

As PASS over the bridge from the Sur
rev side the great Palace of Westminster
looks like a prominent feature of some
dissolving view. Its lamps sparkle over
the bright cleaning waters, its windows
glow with q soft yellow light. while high
above the din and hustle of the streets
the face of the clock beams down with
dull, warm flush Parliament Is sitting,
and the two great rival lights are on
their trial up in the lantern. One of
them is Just now blazing out on the
other side, and the summit of the tower,
as seen behind, is streaming out brilliant
coruscations into the silent darkness.
Leaving the busy streets l make my way
to the foot of the clock tower, enter by
little grated door and commence crop
ing up a narrow staircase. Everything
about this clock is gigantic. The dials
are twenty-five feet and half across,
and each of them consequently presents
to the world surface of nearly 4OO
square feet The figures on them are
two feet long, and the minute spaces
foot square In going once round the
face, therefore, each of the minute
hands traverses a distance of sixty feet,
and in the course of a year passes over
nearly 100 miles. Thus, since the clock
was started, about fourteen years ago,
each of these points must have travelled
little less than |, 400 miles not bad IL
lustration of what may be done by stick
ing to business, even though the progress
may be all but imperceptible. During
the same time the bells within have
given nearly 5000, 900 strokes, or have
counted the population of London, one
by one, nearly twice over The hands
themselves are copper tubes attached to
solid gun-metal "stalks," and, together
with the "counterpoises"-the weights
attached to the spindles inside for the
purpose of balancing-each Of them
weighs nearly two hundred weight. Not
outstanding the pOnderOus weight and
the enormous sweep of these hands,
their regularity is marvellous. Twice
every day the clock reports its progress
to the Royal Observatory at Greenwich by
electricity. There its rate is checked by the
galvanic motor-clock, which is every
morning regulated by actual observation
of the stars during the night. Any error
in the movements of the great hands at
Westminster is thus detected, and is tel
egraphed back. These errors are care
fully registered, and, according to the
Astronomer Royal, the clock does not
vary a second in a week. The winding
without the striking part of the mechan
ism, occupies twenty minutes. Once
more into the dark stone staircase, and
am presently in the belfry, with the
cold stars shimmering through the open
masonry, the tiny lamps twinkling up
from the world below, and the fretful
wind wailing and rumbling round the
dark, silent monsters that never give
mouth but all London knows it. That
huge black mass in the center is Big Ben
nine feet in diameter, eight inches and
three-Quarters in thickness aud between
fifteen and sixteen tons in weight. The
hammer that strikes him has a cast-iror
head weighing nearly seven hundred
weight. and around the sullen giant are
his heralds, the chimes, one of then
weighing seventy eight hundred-weight
another thirty-three and half hundred
weight, third twenty-six hundred
weight, and IA fourth twenty-one hundred
weight, and sounding d. E, f sharp. anG
G sharp respectively-the great chieftail
himself booming out a terrible bad E
In striking the quarter, half-hour ant
hour the first stroke is usually within
two seconds of Greenwich mean time
Big Ben is expected to begin operations
within one second of true time, and t.
enable him to do this the fourth quartz
begins twenty seconds before the hour
This striking part goes only four day
without winding. The operation is pei
formed twice a week and is nearly
days work. The weights are about tol
and a half, and the shaft in which the,
move up and down is ia feet deep. TIL
clock has pendulum weighing upward O
six hundred-weight, and measuring fouI
teen feet five inches in length. A weird an
ghostlY place is this belfry, with it
dense, impenetrable shadows, and it
dim, vague lights, the moaning and sob
bling of the wind amid the BELLS and tn
deep, hOarse tick, tick, tick, tick, of it
pendulum l step out on to the parape
and shudder as 1 gaze down through til
gloom and the drifting smoke into tn
world seem to have left. The hum Q
the busy multitude comes up dulled an
subdued by the distance. Far as tn
eye can reach, myriads of lamps dot GU
the streets and Quares with their spark
ling fires, and through it all the rive
rolls black and silent, with here and ther
long, tremulous pendants of fire quivel
ing down from bridge and boat. Up no
through the dim, mysterious space in
mediately over Big Ben. The spir,
staircase leads to slight gallery or LAM
ing halfway up, and from this anOtht
coils round int the very center of til
airy void. Cautiously cropping my way
for am quite alone-and at every ste
firmly clutching the iron rail which
cannot see, l gain the center of til
gloom, and then, just as am least thin
ing of it, there is sudden click and
bang, which well-nigh startle me into IL
space bek.w. 1t is the chimes going fl
ten . CLOCK, anu IN anOtueT luStduI d.
standing holding on to the stat
case, amid wild, discordant VI
roar which, to a startled stranger ;
least, is rather appalling There is
pause now. The reverberations rumb
and roll around the walls for a time, an
then comes the mighty Ben, with thun
which seems to shake the building to i
very foundations, and which makes m
frail holding fairly rock to and fro. Il
has done at last, and l continue my a
cent, leaving him rumbling and growth
like wild beast.-Leisure Hour.