CARILLON

THE CARILLON:
The one building which has come to symbolise LOUGHBOROUGH above all others is undoubtedly the CARILLON TOWER AND WAR MEMORIAL - usually known simply as THE CARILLON - in QUEENS PARK. But despite the fact that it is now regarded with affection by most of the town's inhabitants, the building of the CARILLON was a major source of controversy in the years immediately following 1918.

The story began even before the First World War ended when, in Spring 1918, LOUGHBOROUGH's Mayor, Walter Coltman, announced that as soon as peace was declared, he would take steps to raise a memorial to those townsmen who had lost their lives in the conflict. In December, one month into peace, the project began. Many meetings ensued but most of these were closed and inaccessible to ordinary people. When a War Memorial Committee emerged, without a town vote, there was a feeling amongst many people - especially the ex-servicemen - that they were not getting enough of a say in what was being planned. Letters to the local press throughout this period were often quite vitriolic as the various viewpoints struggled to be heard. This feeling was spearheaded by SV BASFORD, who wrote in January 1919 to ask why no members of the National Federation of Discharged Sailors and Soldiers had been asked to sit on the Memorial Committee.

Eventually, Mayor Coltman bowed to pressure and suggestions were asked for as to what form the Memorial should take. These varied widely but the Mayoral "camp" favoured a Carillon. The reasoning for this was that the bells of Carillons in Flanders and Belgium had been a familiar sound to the troops and it would therefore make an appropriate memorial to the 480 local men who had died there. However, many of the returned soldiers did NOT want it for almost the same reason. Many sent letters to the local press saying that such a permanent reminder of what they went through was the last thing they wanted. Many expressed the view that any memorial should have a practical purpose and improve life for those who had returned, rather than be just another monument. Amongst many such ideas two emerged as front runners. The first was to build affordable houses for soldiers disabled in the war while the second, and soon to become favourite idea, was that the town should build a health centre. A third option that there should be "a monument of some kind, form to be decided" was too vague to ever really be in the running.

One letter to the LOUGHBOROUGH ECHO in February 1919 was signed simply "Workman":

"Sir - will you allow me to suggest a better and more useful memorial to those who laid down their lives? Instead of spending the thousands of pounds this Carillon is likely to cost on an ornament, why not spend it on, say, twelve modern cottages? They could be let to deserving soldiers at a low rent... This would be far more suitable than a Carillon of bells. I think we are well enough equipped for bells already!"

Another writer the same month reinforced the idea that a Carillon would only serve to bring back terrible memories of Flanders:

"Sir, May I emphatically protest against such a scheme. To many, the sound of bells is objectionable in the extreme. Would it not be better to devote the money to benefiting the dependents of those who made the supreme sacrifice? Any memorial to do with a particular trade also smacks of advertising and is therefore unpalatable".

But while other suggestions were being asked for in public, the Memorial Committee was already collecting money for a Carillon. At a meeting in the Corn Exchange in March 1919, SV BASFORD accused the Memorial Committee of coercion in order to stifle opposition. BASFORD championed the health centre idea, arguing that it would be of tremendous practical value in healing and preventing illness - and would also cost much less than the proposed Carillon. In fact, with it's proposed remit of containing a creche, gymnasium, lecture rooms. laboratories and welfare advice, it would have been the first of it's kind in the world. The Ex-Servicemen's Federation adopted the Health Centre as their official "bid" for the memorial and "earnestly requested" that the Memorial Committee should call a TOWN meeting to discuss the proposals. In April 1919, the meeting was granted. BASFORD's supporters argued that everyone in the town should be allowed to vote on the form of the memorial, not just the members of a committee and not just those able to get into a town meeting. But this was not passed. Instead it was resolved that the options available should be reported to another town meeting and a general vote taken only "if it is thought desirable". BASFORD wanted a new Memorial Committee to be elected there and then but the Mayor's supporters wanted the old Committee to be re-elected en bloc. The atmosphere - and comments - between COLTMAN and BASFORD became very acrimonious and after appeal and counter-appeal to the floor, the old Committee narrowly survived.

The whole affair was up in the air yet again and more letters began to pour into the local press, both for and against the opposing ideas. One woman who had lost relatives in the war said that the sound of a carillon would make her relive their deaths every time she heard it. Others disliked the idea of cottages or a health centre, arguing that the state should be responsible for such undertakings, not the town.

At the next town meeting, it was decided that a town wide vote would be necessary and would be held at the town hall on November 4th, 5th and 6th, 1919. However, this was not just to be a simple vote. Voters would not only have to express a preference but state how much they would be willing to contribute to their chosen monument. Businesses and the "establishment" preferred the Carillon but most of those favouring the health centre were individuals, most with little spare money. The result was that less than 5% of those eligible to vote did so, many feeling unable to vote if they could not afford to contribute. The Carillon option won by 287 votes and a pledge of £1,348 to the health centre's 76 votes and a pledge of £192.

From then on, the Carillon's supporters pulled out all the stops to convince the town of the rightness of the decision. Free lectures on Carillon music were given by Mr W Wooding Starmer; a free pamphlet was distributed throughout the town and tours of Taylors bell foundry were organised. Mr Walter Tapper from London was appointed as the carillon's architect and William Moss and Sons were to build it.

Before too long, the people of the town were won over and began to support the project both with contributions and their time. By March 30th 1923, all but £3,000 of the finance had been raised. To close the gap, the Soldiers' Memorial Sewing Meeting organised a summer bazaar in which all the stalls were named after places in Belgium - including, rather inappropriately, YPRES and MONS. One of the main attractions was the raffling of a commemorative bedspread on which the signatures of donors had been embroidered. This soon became known as the "Alexandra Sheet" as Queen Alexandra agreed to include her own signature on it.

Amid all this enthusiasm, one poignant letter to the ECHO on May 4th stands out. It is from an ex-serviceman, still living in digs after four years who wants to know when the "homes for heroes" that had been promised are actually going to be built.

THE OPENING CEREMONY:
By July the Carillon was finally complete. 153 feet high and 28 feet square at the base, it was built of Portland stone and two-inch TSL sandstone bricks. The weight, including the 47 bells, was 1,300 tons and the whole structure was topped with a spectacular copper roof, now weathered to a soft blue-green. The final cost of the construction was £23,000, which worked out to sixteen shillings (80p) for every man, woman and child in the town. And this at a time when the average - but by no means the lowest - weekly wage was just £3.00.

The opening ceremony, on July 27th 1923, was one of the biggest events in the history of the town. Special guests included the celebrated opera singer Dame Nellie Melba and the opening itself was performed by Field Marshall Sir William Robertson, who unveiled three plaques naming the Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen who had given their lives. A special stand was filled with the families of those commemorated.

After a formal one minute silence, prayers and the laying of wreaths, the moment finally arrived when the Carillon bells were heard for the first time. They was played by the renowned Flemish carilloneur Chevalier Jef Denyn and his repertoire included the premiere performance of ÒMemorial ChimeÓ, a piece specially written for the occasion by no less than Sir Edward Elgar himself.

For those of us so used to the sound of the Carillon, it is hard to imagine the effect this completely new music must have had on those who heard it for the first time that day. Dame Nellie Melba was so moved that she declared she was going to build a Carillon of her own in her native Melbourne. No one present was to know that in less than twenty five years time, many more names would be added to the plaques on the LOUGHBOROUGH Carillon wall.

THE FIRST CARILLONEUR:
LOUGHBOROUGH´s first native Carilloneur was ERIC JORDAN and his deputy was SIDNEY POTTER, both of whom received training at the Malines School of Carilloneurs. Amazingly, ERIC JORDAN remained in his post for fifty years and was still playing at the CarillonÕs Golden Jubilee on which occasion he was made Borough Carilloneur Emeritus. During one radio broadcast from the Carillon, he told an interviewer that he played dressed in shorts and a vest while wearing boxing glove style hand protectors! He said this was because:

“punching those keys is pretty hard work. In fact, a Carilloneur must be a mixture of musician and middle-weight boxer. I have to keep in strict training. Come to think of it, Carillon playing is harder than boxing - you have to punch with your feet as well!”

Despite all the original controversy, the LOUGHBOROUGH CARILLON has now become for many people THE symbol of the town. It is certainly hard to imagine LOUGHBOROUGH without it.