Revealed: The TWO locals whose complaints silenced a 150-year-old church clock ... trends now
As Miss Marple knew only too well, some of the biggest dramas happen in the smallest places. 'Human nature is much the same everywhere, and, of course, one has opportunities of observing it at close quarters in a village,' Agatha Christie's much-loved sleuth once observed.
Wise words and ones that residents of the village of Witheridge in Devon experienced first hand this week with their very own 'whodunnit'. And with a cast of characters that includes the vicar, a disgruntled bell-ringer, 'jobsworth' officials and lots of gossip, it's a mystery Miss Marple would have relished unravelling.
But while her plots were always based around the hunt for an unknown murderer, the 'crime' committed in Witheridge centres on a bitter ding-dong over the much-loved village clock.
Installed in 1882 in the tower of St John The Baptist Church, the timepiece was designed to ring not just every hour — but every quarter as well.
Originally intended as an aid for farm- workers unable to see the clock face from the fields, in more recent years villagers have been charmed by the regular chimes punctuating both day and night.
Cyrus Metcalfe, 48, said he was driven to distraction by the nightly noise of the church bells ringing
But that all changed late last year when the parish council received notice from the district council that an unnamed male resident had complained that his sleep was being disturbed by the noise.
Enforcement officers were duly dispatched, ruling that the 'level, duration and frequency' of the clock constituted a statutory nuisance under environmental laws.
A noise abatement order was issued by North Devon Council, which threatened to fine the parish council if the problem was not addressed. Fearing a protracted legal battle if it challenged the order, in January the parish ordered that the clock be silenced while it tried to work out how to respond.
Three months and £2,000 later, last week it finally unveiled its solution — a clock that bongs in the day, but which falls completely silent between the hours of 11pm and 7am.
To say that news of the new arrangement did not go down well in the village is something of an understatement.
Within days, a petition had been signed by more than 400 residents calling for the clock's original chiming pattern to be restored.
'This isn't just about the chime,' it proclaimed. 'It's about preserving our history and traditions that have been passed down through generations. The church clock is more than just a timekeeper; it is an audible symbol of our shared heritage and community spirit.'
Not only was there disbelief that a single complaint could end something loved by so many — but that the parish had to spend so much of its budget bowing to council jobsworths. 'If you don't like the bells, buy yourself some earmuffs,' was how Jan Spier, 78, pithily put it.
Now, even the local MP has weighed in, telling the Mail last night the ban was a 'nonsense' and wondering if the council would crack down on crowing cockerels next.
'So many parish churches fight to keep their bells ringing,' said Selaine Saxby, the Tory MP for North Devon. 'Why would you move to a village with a century of church bells like lovely Witheridge and then complain about them?'
To that background, it was perhaps inevitable the identity of the person behind the original complaint would become a hot topic. Some suggested he had already moved out, driven off by the lack of sleep, adding further insult to injury.
Others concluded he must be an 'outsider', a DFL — 'Down From Londoner' — unsuited to country ways. However, as it turns out, those assumptions could not be further from the truth.
Because thanks to some amateur sleuthing, the Mail was able to track down not one but two complainants. And, as with so many mysteries, the key to unlocking it lay in the most obvious place — a property located a stone's throw from the clock itself.
The building is home to two flats, one occupied by a 32-year-old abattoir worker and the other by scaffolder Cyrus Metcalfe, 48, who both say they were driven to distraction by the nightly noise.
Installed in 1882 in the tower of St John The Baptist Church, the timepiece was designed to ring not just every hour, but every quarter of an hour as well
Residents in the village of Witheridge in Devon are outraged after a complaint led to the silencing of their church bells after 150 years. The bells must now stop ringing during the evening
Both were raised locally and have lived in the village for a number of years. It was the younger of the two who lodged the formal complaint — and revealed that he himself is a lover of bells, being a bell-ringer at a different church.
And far from being appeased by the parish council's actions, he is so angry at the way he claims it dealt with his initial complaint that he is preparing to sue it for compensation for the disturbance he suffered.
'I am going to put in a claim, as much as anything to prove a point,' he told the Mail.
Aware of the strength of feeling in the village — and how provocative some might see that last statement — he declined to give his name, which this newspaper knows.
'Why would I ask for trouble?' he said. 'There are some in Witheridge that are outraged and if you look on Facebook they are threatening all sorts of action against me, like driving past my place at midnight and beeping their horns.'
So what is the complainants' version of events?
To find out more, we first have to turn the metaphorical clock back a few years when it stopped working due to a broken mechanism. Covid lockdowns and a shortage of qualified repairers meant that it was only fixed last summer.
'People talk about the bell ringing out for 150 years but that's just nonsense, as everyone in Witheridge knows,' said the
