A Visit To The King Of Clocks

Woe betide anyone who is late for London’s most striking attraction.

Tours of Big Ben are run like clockwork for good reason–they have to be on time to catch the resounding climax.

Terry Eiss, guide to the world’s most famous clock, is a stickler for time-keeping as he rounds up his eager group of visitors for the Big Ben tour.

Any stragglers who are late for the tour get left behind– punctuality is vital if you want to get up close and personal with the "King of Clocks."

"We shall go up like gazelles to hear all hell break loose," he tells the group as they embark on the 334-step trek up the tower to catch Big Ben booming out across London on the stroke of midday.

At the age of 57, he must be one of the fittest tour guides in Britain. He bounds up the stairs three times a day, climbing over 1,000 steps daily. Visitors gasp for breath, but he is barely puffing.

Eiss, who is also verger in the parliamentary chapel of Saint Mary Undercroft, revels in his job, telling the story of the famous clock with boundless enthusiasm to an audience only too relieved to have a chance to get its breath back.

The tale of how Big Ben became the soundtrack to a nation is intriguing, offering a checkered history.

"The fire that destroyed most of parliament in 1834 was a catastrophe as well as an opportunity because it offered a chance to rebuild on a grand scale," Eiss tells visitors.

Architect Charles Barry won a competition to build the replacement and he called in Queen Victoria’s clockmaker Benjamin Lewis Vulliamy for advice on a new a clock tower.

Another competition was then launched to see who would build the clock.

But the conditions set by Astronomer Royal George Airey were very tough–the first stroke of each hour had to be accurate within one second and the clock’s performance telegraphed twice a day to the Greenwich Observatory for checking.

After seven years of controversy and delay, Edmund Denison built a clock which underwent several refinements including the installation of "Double Three-Legged Gravity Escapement"–basically ensuring that the clock would not be knocked out of kilter by the wind.

Part of the pendulum–and it still sits there today–is a small shelf with a number of weights including some pre-decimal currency pennies.

Removing just one of those pennies could cause the clock to lose two-fifths of a second in 24 hours.

Problems abounded from the beginning as the first Big Ben was too big.

Carried across Westminster Bridge by a team of 36 white horses, it was hauled into place but then cracked, because the clapper was too heavy.

Second time lucky, and a trimmed-down casting of Big Ben first rang out across the capital in July 1859.

It announced the end of World War One in 1918. It survived German bombing in World War Two.

Every year on November 11, it rings in Remembrance Day to commemorate Britain’s war dead. Its sonorous tones echo across the world at the start of some BBC radio news broadcasts.

Much to the surprise of visitors clambering up the steps, there is an unlikely pause halfway up–a prison room for miscreant lawmakers.

It was last used in 1883 when atheist member of parliament Charles Bradlaugh was incarcerated for a night for refusing to sign the oath of allegiance.

So who is Big Ben named after? Two popular theories prevail.

Some believe it was taken from the nickname of a champion heavyweight boxer of the time called Ben Caunt.

Others believe it was named after a short bulky Welshman called Benjamin Hall, who was Commissioner of Works at the time and whose name was inscribed on the bell.

When visitors finally reach the top of the tower, they can even look down the ventilation shaft all the way to the basement–but vertigo sufferers may prefer to look away.

Seeing Big Ben strike midday is an unforgettable experience, with the city of London as a majestic backdrop behind you.

Eiss delivers you on the spot with perfect timing for the start of the Westminster Chimes, which are based upon Handel’s Messiah.

The clapper rises at midday, thunders down on the bell and the noise reverberates right through you from head to toe. It rings in your ears long afterwards.

But sadly this is a privilege accorded to relatively few: you can’t get onto this tour through ordinary tour companies.

Bookings from overseas are, for security reasons, not allowed and anyone wishing to join the tour in Britain would do best to contact their local member of parliament and hopefully land a coveted place that way.

It is certainly well worth the effort staggering up the stairs behind Eiss with a group of lucky constituents from around the country.

As Eiss said: "This truly is a dream job and a magical place to work."