An unseasonable, chill wind cut through me as I wound around the bustling London denizens and tourists along the Strand early one morning in July. Shortly I arrived at St Martin-In-The-Fields, seemingly alt-mon, the 'Church of the World'.
One of the reasons I had travelled 11,000 miles was to get to the bottom of a mystery. Trying and failing to elicit any response to my polite and uncomplicated questions via post, e-mail and telephone there was only one thing for it - to front up in person.
What was it about Richard Court's enigmatic bell tower that disturbed me so much?
Investigations around the city of Perth, in the library and on the Internet had revealed a great deal but some questions still begged answers.
The lack of replies from the Church of St Martin-In-The-Fields was puzzling but I gave them the benefit of the doubt and put their inaction down to work pressures. Surely when I arrived in person my simple questions would receive the answers I needed.
The notable Scottish architect Sir James Gibb, a protégé of Christopher Wren and the Duke of Argyle designed the Present Church of St Martin's. Gibb learnt much of his craft under the tutelage of the great Italian architect Carlo Fontana. Full of occult symbolism and sacred geometry it is a shrine to secrets, which is just as well because at least three of the above were Freemasons.
Gibb's designs inspired the steepled churches of colonial America and many of the drawings from Gibb's 'Book of Architecture' were used extensively for the design of the White House in Washington, that shrine to Freemasonry. Perhaps this is why George Washington's statue sits outside the entrance to St Martin's.
I had already obtained a church brochure and compared it to the official government story concerning the bells' history. They didn't match.
The Western Australian government claimed that the Cities of London and Westminster had 'gifted' the bells to the people of Western Australia as a bi-centennial gift. But the bells did not belong to these two parties and the phrase 'Cities of London and Westminster' is code for Freemasonry.
St Martin's brochure states that the bells were clapped out. They couldn't believe their luck when a deputation from the University of Western Australia (where apparently bell-ringing is a serious subject to be studied NOT) arrived at their oaken doors and offered to exchange them for enough bell metal for the church to cast another set of bells. (Note the government has now admitted the exchange deal but still persists with the bicentennial gift tale).
So why would a West Australian government get involved in an expensive cloak and dagger exercise just to obtain a set of knackered bells that 12 years later would be disturbing the peace on the northbank of the Swan River?
For whom do these bells toll?
How many historic bells are Western Australians the proud owners of?
How did the bells get to Perth?
What is so important about these bells and why would anybody want them anyway?
At St Martin's I followed the signs to the crypt where the church runs a lucrative business flogging books, artefacts, brass rubbings and refreshments to eager tourists. After a failed search of the bookshelves for an authoritative tome on the church I approached one of the salesman.
"Would you know anything about the history of the church'? I enquired.
'A little, what did you want to know'?
"What do you know about the bells'?
"Only that they went to a place in Australia somewhere. There is a bit about them in the brochure over there. They are going to make a huge musical instrument out of them," he added proudly.
"But it says in the brochure that they are clapped out," I protested.
"Ah yes." he replied with a satisfied smirk.
Then a female staff member interrupted us.
"Was there something you wanted to know?' she asked.
"Yes there is." I replied believing that at last here was someone who might know something.
"I wanted to know how many bells were sent to WA and how did they get there?"
"The best thing to do is to write in." she offered.
"Well, how many times would you recommend." I smiled.
"Just the once." she beamed back.
"But I have already written, e mailed, and telephoned and now I am here in person."
"Oh dear. Well give me your e-mail number and I will deal with your enquiry personally. You see a man who comes in here every morning is a bit of an historian, his name is William but I am afraid you have just missed him. I will get the information for you and you will have it tomorrow."
Wandering amongst the brass rubbings I asked another staff member who knew as much as the others-nothing - so I decided to have a look at the inside of James Gibb's masterpiece.
A woman was sitting at the entrance to the elaborately imposing interior and talking to a group of tourists while others milled reverently around the aisles. I took my time exploring the architecture, sculptures, memorials and artwork-not touching anything but enjoying the exercise of recognising and interpreting the symbolism. As I came upon the entrance the lady was now alone so I decided to give my queries one more try.
"Excuse me. Do you...
"No I don't know anything about them." She replied frostily, got up and walked out of the door.
Well..and in the 'Church of the World' too!
I stopped to look at some cards by the door and then moved on to look at some more monuments turned around and noticed our stroppy femme talking to a stony-faced man at the front of the church. Both of them stared at me in a distinctly unchristian manner and as their scowls cut along the aisles towards me I ignored them and continued to explore. The woman marched out of the door again while the man surveyed me from behind a pulpit until I left the building. Amusing really.
On exiting the church through the west-facing front doors I noticed George W. across the street. For some reason (for which most of us could offer a good guess) a statue of George Washington sits across the road facing Trafalgar Square. According to the legend beneath it was given by the people of the Commonwealth of Virginia in 1921. Whose commonwealth?
I left London without the answers I had hoped for but perhaps the next day they would be speeding through hyper-space. Yeah right! The answers didn't materialise before I left England however some of them came from another though unexpected source together with some clinching information that may prove to blow Court's ship right out of the water. First though I would like to direct the reader to some interesting and I believe relevant information concerning the doppelganger- sorry, gong-dangler, the Bell Tower.
It appears that someone wanted to build a tower on the Perth foreshore. The site is far from accidental because it is in the centre of an extremely important Aboriginal sacred site. Along with all ancient cultures, adepts know that the earth is filled with networks of energy lines underground, on the surface and in the air. These lines converge at certain places like Giza in Egypt, Avebury in England and the Swan River near Mount Eliza. This has been kept a secret from the profane until recently. Hidden in myth the Nyungars have claimed that a Dream-time Serpent, the Warghul, snakes down the Swan River and coils up her on the bottom of the river. Many cultures describe energy lines as serpents and dragons. The uninitiated, innocent and gullible have taken these stories literally but those in the know including senior holy men and high degree masons have always known; and that is why this area of Perth and indeed the whole city is so full of Masonic symbolism.
© Ellis C Taylor 2001. For further information please mail me.
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Footnote:
On 16th August 2000, a few weeks after arriving back in Perth I received an e-mail from St Martin-In-The-Fields Enterprise Ltd. I am very grateful for their efforts.
COURTING THE BELLS
