ck work containing
the caldron is almost glowing with red heat; a vast draft passage
underneath the floor keeps the fire rapid; from time to time it leaps up
with a hundred angry tongues, or in one sheet of flame, over the
furnace-imbedded caldron. Then the cunning artificer brings forth his
heaps of choice metal, large cakes of red coruscated copper from
Drontheim, called 'Rosette,' owing to a certain rare pink bloom that
seems to lie all over it like the purple on a plum; then a quantity of
tin, so highly refined that it shines and glistens like pure silver;
these are thrown into the caldron and melted down together. Kings and
nobles have stood beside those famous caldrons, and looked with
reverence upon the making of these old bells. Nay, they have brought
gold and silver and, pronouncing the name of some holy saint or apostle
which the bell was thereafter to bear, they have flung in precious
metals, rings, bracelets, and even bullion.

"But for a moment or two before the pipe which is to convey the metal
to the mold is opened, the smith stands and stirs the molten mass to see
if all is melted. Then he casts in certain proportions of zinc and other
metals which belong to the secrets of the trade; he knows how much
depends upon these little refinements, which he has acquired by
experience, and which perhaps he could not impart even if he would, so
true is it that in every art that which constitutes success is a matter
of instinct, and not of rule, or even science.

"He knows, too, that almost everything depends upon the moment chosen
for flooding the mold. Standing in the intense heat, and calling loudly
for a still more raging fire, he stirs the metal once more. At a given
signal the pipe is opened, and with a long smothered rush the molten
metal fills the mold to the brim. Nothing now remains but to let the
metal cool, and then to break up the clay and brick work and extract the
bell, which is then finished for better or for worse."

We learn much of the difficulties encountered even by these great
masters in successfully casting the bells, and that even they were not
exempt from failure. "The Great Salvator" bell at Malines, made by Peter
Van den Gheyn, cracked eight years after it was hung in the tower
(1696). It was recast by De Haze of Antwerp, and existed up to a few
years ago--surely a good long life for any active bell.

In the belfry of St. Peter's at Louvain, which is now in ruins and level
with the str