Bells of the Freiburger Münster

During the spring and summer of 1998 I was fortunate to take a short study tour at the Albert-Ludwigs-Universität of Freiburg-in-Breisgau, Germany. Like most study-abroad tours, only a portion of the education I received there had anything to do with academics. Much more of what I learned was a result of simply observing the people around me and noting what was universal about the human experience, and what was culture-specific. For example, teenagers are obnoxious in any culture, but Americans really do have this aura of self-centeredness that contrasts them from people of other nationalities.

Another big part of my education in Freiburg was learning about the cultural heritage of Europe. Although American culture is, of course, heavily based on European culture, there's an awful lot that was left behind on the trip across the ocean. One prime example of this is the general European reverence for things that are old. Europeans, in general and without even realizing it, are very aware of their history and the signs of that history that surround them. Americans, on the other hand, seem to value the new above all else. I think this has a lot to do with the fact that Europeans are surrounded by physical signs of their history at every turn. As I spent more time in Freiburg and Germany in general, I came more and more to appreciate some of those physical signs.

The physical relic of Germany's history that I appreciated the most was definitely the architecture, as manifested in the churches and cathedrals that litter the landscape. As the heir of the Holy Roman Empire, and later one of the seats of the Reformation, Germany naturally has a lot of religious history expressed in its houses of worship. The styles of these churches reflects not only the passing architectural fashions, but also the effects of the religious fervor of the times.

In my travels I got to visit cathedrals in Freiburg, Frankfurt (Main), Nürnberg, Prag, Meissen, Bern, Basel, Strassburg, München, Rothenburg, Würzburg, Ulm, and Mainz, in addition to seeing the reconstruction of the Frauenkirche of Dresden, which was totally destroyed by the February 1945 bombing by British and American forces. (My travelling companions were known to groan frequently, "Not another cathedral!") Some, like Prag and Strassburg, are huge and world-famous, while others like Rothenburg and Meissen are smaller and less well-known. Some embodied the very idea of the ancient European cathedral, while others, such as the Stephanskirche in Mainz, were quite modern. Most were Catholic, although there was a wonderful little Evangelical (Lutheran) church in Würzburg that I'm sure no one ever visits except parishoners and hard-core church junkies like me. Some displayed a single coherent architectural motif or style, while others were a mixture of styles. Some were in nearly pristine condition, their age notwithstanding, while others had been heavily damaged or destroyed in the war.

Of all the cathedrals I saw, the one which won my heart was the Münster of Freiburg. This might have been partly loyalty to my adopted home in Germany, and it might have been partly a result of the fact that I visited the Freiburger Münster many times and the other cathedrals only once each, but it was mostly due to the fact that the Freiburger Münster was as close to the perfect cathedral as I discovered in my travels. Originally built as the parish church of the town of Freiburg, it became a bishop's seat only in 1827. Accordingly, the Münster avoided a lot of the excess that usually came along with being a bishop's seat. Being built across a span of several centuries, the Münster naturally displayed a range of architectural styles, from the late Romanesque to the Late Gothic (and even a little Rococo added on), but these styles were all integrated with a good eye for the total composition of the building. The tower (single, since only cathedrals that served as a bishop's seat were allowed to build two towers) was the first of its kind, with the lacy spire, and was widely emulated throughout southern Germany. The building also had a nice symmetry, since the height of the tower was matched almost exactly by the length of the building, and this symmetry is enhance by the fact that the Choir is almost the same length as the Longhouse*--quite an oddity in the Gothic medium. Most of all, the Münster remained relatively unmodified after its completion in 1513. Most other cathedrals, it seemed, were afflicted by the need to periodically add on; a chapel here, a tower there, a monastery over there. The Freiburg Münster retains the same proportions and symmetry it had in the 16th century, and stands alone in a large Marktplatz, allowing one to walk completely around the building and appreciate it from all angles. It also very narrowly avoided destruction during the bombing of Freiburg late in WWII. If you don't believe me that it's a perfect cathedral, visit it yourself.

(*) "Longhouse" is a translation of the German term "Langhaus"; the more usual term to see in English is "nave".

The bells

Most of the religious and architectural significance of the Munster has been dealt with in other places, but I've not yet seen any sizable treatment of the bells in the Munster. Being a bell-fiend, myself, I cannot let this situation stand, so I offer the remainder of this document as a small reparation of past neglect.

The Munster originally had some number of bells, probably cast in several batches across several centuries and purchased as funds became available. Only one of these bells remains, though; the rest were confiscated by the Nazi war machine and melted down. The one remaining bell, the Hosannaglocke, cast in 1258, is a splendid example of the bell-making art of the Middle Ages. It has a richness of tone unequalled in modern bells. The Hosannaglocke was spared by the Nazis because at the time it was already the oldest Angelus bell in the country, and for all their other failings (now there's an understatement!) the Nazis had a deep respect for old things. The Hosannaglocke weighs in at 5000 kg (~5.5 tons) and sounds a gorgeous Eb1 with a very full overtone series. (Carl Zimmerman explains a difference in the notational system for the tones of European tower bells. While an octave-number of "1" might lead the average handbell ringer to believe that this bell sounds four octaves below the handbell middle C, or three octaves below piano middle C, it is actually the case that the numbering system is "off" by three. Thus, an Eb1, rather than sounding almost four octaves below piano middle C, actually sounds less than an octave below that note.) Far from being fragile for its age, the Hosannaglocke is rung about twice a week for 10 minutes at a time.

The Munster acquired an additional 15 bells in 1959. They were cast by F.W. Schilling of Heidelberg. The information offered by the Munster states that all the bells were cast on the same day, September 29th, but that cannot be true since no foundry has the capacity to pour that much molten bronze at once. This peal of bells is one of the largest sets of cathedral bells I've seen; although a carillon often has more bells, those are usually smaller bells and rung in an entirely different fashion. The Munster bells are all free-swinging, although three of them can also be rung with a hammer to signal the hour. I have no idea through what means the Munster purchased such a large set of bells.

The smallest of the new bells is the Magnificatglöcklein, or the "miniature Magnificat bell." Miniature, hardly, since it weighs in at 80 kg (176 lb) and measures probably 2 feet (~60 cm) across at the lip (outside measurement). It sounds at D3, or one whole step above piano middle C.

The next smallest bell is the Odiliaglocke, weighing in at 120 kg (264 lb). It sounds at C3, effectively piano middle C. I'm sorry about the quality of the picture; it was an impossible shot.

The third smallest bell is the Schutzengelglocke, or "bell of the protecting angel." This is the most decorated bell in the Munster tower as you can see in the picture. All the bells in the tower had some engraving but the Schutzengel had the most. It sounded an A2 and weighed 150 kg (330 lb).

Next in the flight is the Michaelsglocke. The engraving probably depicts the Archangel Michael slaying the dragon. The bell weighs 150 kg and sounds at G2. The astute reader will probably wonder how the Schutzengel and the Michaels bells can weigh the same but sound a whole step apart. This is possible because the note a bell sounds is partially a function of the amount of metal in the bell, but more a function of the inside diameter of the casting. The Michaelsglocke is wider at the mouth than the Schutzengel, but the walls of the casting are probably thinner. (Probably also, the weights provided by the Munster are liberally rounded.)

The next bell is the Lambert & Alexander. The names of the bells all have some meaning, presumably, but outside the Biblical names the significance escapes me. This picture gives a good view of the clapper. Note how far out of the mouth of the bell the clapper extends, and the shiny spot on the inside of the mouth--this is the strikepoint of the clapper against the bell, where the natural oxidation of the bronze is rubbed off. The Lambert & Alexander weighs 220 kg (484 lb) and sounds at F2.

The next picture shows the Bernhardsglocke. It also shows how the bells are securely lashed to the wooden headstock, and how the name of the bell is engraved in the woodstock as well, at the left side of the picture. On the right side of the headstock is the note of the bell (D2) and the weight (7 1/2 Ztr, where a "Ztr" is the abbreviation for "Zentner"; or a hundredweight). The modern measurement is 550 kg (1210 lb)

The next bell in the flight is the Konradsglocke, weighing in at 800 kg (1760 lb) and sounding at C2, one octave below piano middle C. The picture is also noteworthy in that it demonstrates the inadequacy of any efforts to keep pigeons out of the belfry. **Newsflash** I just found out that there's a small colony of pygmy bats living in the Müster! (Dare I say that there are bats in the belfry?)

About halfway through the peal we find the Jakobusglocke, which sounds a B1 and weighs about 870 kg (1914 lb). This picture also shows the straight headstock to which the bell is mounted. The use of a straight headstock is apparently a European custom; American tower bells are usually mounted to a yoke-shaped headstock.

In the next picture is seen the Johannesglocke. The really unfortunate thing about all these pictures is that they provide no sense of scale; there is no way for you, the reader, to see that the Johannesglocke is significantly larger than the Magnificatglöcklein. For an attempt at scale, the Johannes is about 4 feet across at the lip. It weighs 900 kg (1980 lb) and sounds at A1.

The next bell is named Nikolaus von der Flue--another name that means nothing to me. In contrast to the other bells, the engraving on this bell seems rather half-hearted--note the lopsided squiggle near the top of the bell, and that the standing figure is on top of what appears to be a serious erasure by the engraver. Nicholas weighs one metric ton (1000 kg, 2200 lb) and yet sounds only at G1, one and a half octaves below piano middle C.

Now we start to get into the real monster bells. The Josefsglocke, weighing in at 1300 kg (2860 lb), is the next in the series. It sounds at F1.

The next picture is another bad one; it was an impossible angle. The bell is the Marienglocke, or the bell dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The engraving, if you can make it out, shows Mary crowned as Queen of Heaven--a very European-Catholic idea. The dark patch on the shoulder of the bell is apparently from some oil dripping from the pulley-motor of the bell above it. Josef weighs 2400 kg (5280 lb) and sounds at D1.

The next picture shows the Paulusglocke in action. I had timed this visit to the Münsterturm to coincide with the weekly Friday-morning pealing, hoping to see the Hosannaglocke in action. As it turned out, the Hosanna was unmounted from its headstock for some reason, and the Paulus was being pealed in its place. The Paulus sounds at C1 (two full octaves below piano middle C) and weighs 2700 kg (5940 lb, almost 3 tons). To peal, the bell swings through an arc of probably 90 degrees or so, 45 degrees to each side of vertical. The headstock is mounted on a wheel, which is in turn linked through a couple pulleys to a small electric motor. The motor and pulleys swing the bell to its highest point, then abruptly stop the bell from moving any further. The clapper, on the other hand, continues swinging even though the casting has stopped moving, and thus smashes into the inside of the casting with great force, producing an enormous BONG. The motor then swings the bell to the other side and the whole process starts over again. Each strike was about 1 second apart. The Paulus pealed for probably about 10 minutes, during which time the hordes of American tourists (who had apparently also timed their visits to be in the tower during the peal) held their hands over their ears and complained how loud it was. Well, DUH! As you can imagine, the bell created a lot of disturbance in the air. About halfway through the peal I noticed that there was a high-pitched humming in the air all throughout the belfry. The best I could figure was that the energy released by the pealing of the Paulus had set up some standing waves in the belfry, and furthermore exciting sympathetic vibrations in the other bells. The hum did seem loudest next to the Michaelsglocke, which sounds an octave-and-a-half above the Paulus. This would match what I know about the overtone series of bells. During the pealing, the entire wooden structure supporting the bells creaked back and forth in a somewhat alarming fashion, especially considering the size of the beams comprising the structure.

The next picture is of the Petrusglocke. Again, an impossible angle for the camera. The Petrus sounds at B0 and weighs 4000 kg (yes, 8800 lbs).

Finally, the largest bell in the peal is the Christusglocke--it seems only fitting that the fundamental of the flight should be named after Jesus. This is truly an enormous bell. Sounding at G0 (yes, zero), it weighs a whopping 7000 kg (15400 lb, or over 7 tons (for the sake of comparison, a Chevy Suburban weighs a paltry 5694 lbs)) and measures probably almost six feet from mouth to mounting point and almost five feet across at the lip. The mind boggles.