Here is Cecil Clutton's tonal assessment of the organ, taken from an essay in 'The Organ' quarterly, April 1946. Some introductory remarks are omitted, as is the stoplist, whcih can be found here.

In Willis's early reed voicing he was probably influenced by Cavaillé-Coll, especially in employing a higher wind pressure for the trebles, which is the surest way of maintaining the power of the trebles while preserving a consistent quality of tone throughout the compass. When Vincent Willis later developed the technique of brass loading, and practically standardised a wind pressure of 7in. for his chorus reeds, the basses had to be voiced in a more subdued manner, relative to the wind pressure, in order to keep them in proportion with the trebles. When the power of a reed pipe is considerably throttled, whatever the wind pressure, it is almost inevitable that the tone becomes relatively smooth, and the attack suffers. Unloaded, light-pressure reeds generally have the best attack, but an excellent attack is also usually found in tubas, which are voiced more or less "all out."

In a cathedral the Willis 7in. pressure reeds were "let out" considerably, and the tone approximated to that of the true trumpet, but in a smaller building, such as St. Bees, Col. Dixon has truly pointed out that the great and swell chorus reeds are all more of the cornopean type. Willis probably looked upon this gradation of quality as a proper concession to the differing acoustical properties of large and small buildings. For it is certainly true that the smaller and less resonant the building, the more restrained in quality must the reed voicing become. It is therefore ironical that the true light pressure reed, with its almost harsh, but nevertheless thrilling tone quality and attack, can only succeed in a fairly large, resonant building, while the heavy-pressure voicing technique alone can succeed in small, non-resonant surroundings. I believe that it is absolutely useless to argue the relative merits of heavy and light-pressure reeds, since so many other factors have to be taken into account. In any truly complete organ, both types should be found, for their functions are absolutely different. This is, of course, somewhat a counsel of perfection, and for ordinary purposes the foremost modern voicers have now succeeded in producing an excellent compromise, embodying in sufficient measure the important qualities of both. In buildings the size of St. Bees, this seems to be most readily achieved on a pressure of about 5in.

Many people, among whom Col. Dixon is prominent, have a steady aversion to light-pressure chorus reeds in any shape or form, except in the smallest organs, and I think this is not surprising, having regard to the remarkably low standard of light-pressure reed voicing which generally obtained in this country. There are some excellent light-pressure stops in the great of the famous Schulze organ at St. Peter's, Hindley, which I had the interesting experience of hearing within three days of a visit to St. Bees. Even in the non-resonant Church of St. Peter, Hindley, the 16ft. and 8ft. reeds, mixture, and octave coupler produce a superbly thrilling effect, which, as truly as the St. Bees full swell, is all the better for being without flue backing.

The St. Bees specification exhibits certain features unusual at the period, which have since become almost commonplace. Most striking is the insistence upon completing the essential flue and reed choruses, even at the expense of pretty tonal tit-bits, and in this respect only too many modern organ architects have very much to learn from the example of St. Bees. Another innovation was the complete enclosure of a light-pressure choir-solo organ and the presence of an unenclosed tuba on a three-manual organ. Both had already been anticipated, but not in the same instrument. But it is the rigid economy of the design for which the specification is most conspicuous, and it is that feature of making the utmost of any given number of speaking stops which has so outstandingly characterised all Col. Dixon's work as an organ architect. Within thirty-five speaking stops have been compressed all the important effects to be looked for (but not always found) in a cathedral organ.

Also unusual was the provision of five combination couplers, which is evidence of Casson's influence, and these, together with the all-adjustable pistons, were quite exceptional in 1899, and still enable St. Bees to give points to most modern organs in the matter of control. The St. Bees console is certainly a model of comfort and convenience and served as a pattern for the equally hospitable standard Harrison console from St. Nicholas, Whitehaven, onwards.

Talking of combination couplers, there may be some readers of The Organ who did not see the following delightful passage from a parish magazine, quoted by Punch some little time ago:- "We are grateful to Mr. - for his gift of the new couplers to our organ, which will enable the organist to change his combinations without using his feet," - but we digress.

The organ is fortunate in having the whole of a large and lofty transept for its accommodation, and its layout is therefore most spacious. When he first visited the church in 1896, Willis himself remarked that he had seldom seen a more magnificent site for an organ. In its voicing, he evidently set out to excel himself; perhaps the old man even guessed that it was to be practically his swan song.

In original form, the great compound stop, called "Cornet," was prepared for, and its exquisite execution is the work of Arthur Harrison. The open 32ft. (to GGGG) is also a Harrison addition. The pedal reed was originally on 7in. wind and it is said to have been quite insignificant. That great artist, Mr. W. C. Jones, who was then Harrison's reed voicer, revoiced it on 15in. pressure, retaining the brass loads; and while I am generally opposed to the results of using such high pressures for pedal reeds, the effect here is irreproachable. Jones also put harmonic trebles to the great reeds. In all other respects, including Vincent Willis's heavy pressure tubular action and the all-adjustable pistons (each giving three positions for every stop: "on," "off," and "neutral"), the organ is as left by Willis. A special word must be said about the 46-year-old tubular action, which, although now far from silent, is still a paragon of reliability and excellently prompt. It also has the merit of being easily accessible. The wind supply, too, is outstandingly steady, and in addition to the two mains there are no fewer than nine separate reservoirs. The wind is generated by a very fine 5 horsepower compound Discus blower.

About ten years ago I first visited St. Bees priory, and was then amazed at the organ. I went again in 1938, when I had the pleasure of hearing it displayed by Lieut. (then Mr.) W.M. Coulthard, F.R.C.O., who had meanwhile been appointed organist. When I revisited it in 1945 (the Air Ministry having thoughtfully stationed me on a nearby aerodrome) I rather expected to be disappointed, for I had seen many fine instruments in the meantime, and my opinions had undergone considerable changes. Nevertheless, I found my admiration for the instrument no whit abated, but if anything, enhanced.

Blend is an elusive quality, and few people can agree in defining it. In a Willis organ it certainly implies that one can draw stops almost at random and be sure of an artistic effect. This is due to the fact that (setting aside the powerful reeds) the stops are not very widely contrasted in power; nor are they of extreme tonalities, though they are beautifully voiced and regulated. This is true of some colourless, milk-and-water organs, but Willis instruments are anything but that, and he successfully navigated his way between the Scylla of insipidity and the Charybdis of over-contrast.

Except in buildings of cathedral size and resonance, I believe that powerful diapasons have been very much overdone, and Schulze was the first serious offender in this respect. At Doncaster and Armley he had practically cathedral proportions, but at St. Peter's, Hindley, he seems to have given little consideration to the building. That instrument contains many tours de force of voicing, especially as to the string tone, but, to my ear, the diapason chorus is unduly powerful and absolutely fails to hang together; each rank can be heard, clamorous and unblending. Willis evidently felt that there was a definite artistic limit to the power which can be got from a flue pipe, and while it is now generally agreed that the diapason choruses of most of his cathedral organs are inadequate, it is not at all surprising that he refused to see any merit in the noisy and intractable diapason choruses of Schulze. It is, in any case, better to err on the side of restraint than to be over-assertive.

In Willis's middle period his diapasons seem to have come under French influence, and they were at times almost disagreeably thin and edgey; but the diapasons at St. Bees display a fulness of tone that is to be found elsewhere only in his early work, and which is all the more remarkable when one recollects that the pipes are slotted. The great 8ft. stop conforms to the usual Willis pattern of 6 1/4in. scale at 8ft., two-ninth mouth and 3 1/2in. pressure. There is no forcing of the tone, but in this medium-sized church the single diapason is quite as powerful as could be artistically required, while, together with the perfect double, a most dignified body of tone results.

The trebles are "kept up" in traditional Willis fashion, but only in moderation. Occasionally he carried it to excess, and on some Father Willis organs one can almost play in the wrong key with the left hand without anyone being very much the wiser. It is easy to secure a good melodic quality at the expense of polyphonic clarity, but at St. Bees a fair measure of compromise was struck.

The ranks of the upperwork are successively softened, but not so as to become insignificant, and by their increased brightness a very lovely chorus of great general utility is achieved. In this, the perfect Harrison cornet (so-called) is largely instrumental. It is carried up forty-three notes without a break, which is an excellent feature in a tierce mixture of only three ranks.

Its composition is arranged - as the composition of all great organ mixtures should be arranged - in conjunction with the twelfth and fifteenth. Generally, the composition of a three-rank mixture in the upper part of the compass is 8 12 15, which leads to useless reduplication and top-heaviness. But by arranging the St. Bees cornet as though the twelfth and fifteenth formed part of it, a much better balanced result was obtained, and the chorus has benefited accordingly. What we have, in effect, is a five rank mixture of which the composition at the various breaks is: 12 15 17 19 22,  8 12 15 17 19,  5 8 10 12 15, respectively.

The twelfth has been increased in scale by two pipes and somewhat loudened. Although it is still softer than the fifteenth, as it should be, it now adds something to full to fifteenth. One must confess that in his last years Willis often whittled his upperwork down to an almost insignificant trifle. To some extent, this may have been an unwilling concession to current fashion, but I am afraid that it is more probably true that he placed increasing reliance on his chorus reeds, and discouraged competition from the mixtures, from which he latterly suppressed the tierce and, at Lincoln, even the nineteenth. One may therefore safely assume that this "cornet" is more effective than it would have been if Father Willis had made it himself.

It enhances the flexibility of a great organ a hundredfold if the upperwork can be used with the flutes as an alternative to the diapasons, but this can never be done with the forceful type of Schulze upperwork. At St. Bees, the possibilities are immense, and Lieut. Coulthard exploits them most imaginatively. Stopped diapason and twelfth gives a bold krummhorn effect in the tenor octave, and a bell-like sound in the treble. An excellent quasi-cornet comes from the stopped diapason, wald flote, and upperwork, but for this purpose it would be a great improvement if the tierce rank of the cornet could be drawn as a separate mutation. An independent seventeenth on the great organ, in addition to a quint mixture, is a most valuable asset which ought to be more generally provided. The same combination makes a most exciting, semi-baroque chorus, which is valuable in early and modern music alike. Full to mixtures is really splendid, and derives no benefit from the flutes which are never drawn with it. One is conscious of fulness on the one hand and silveriness on the other. It is powerful enough to be impressive and satisfying, but not so loud as to be oppressive, even after prolonged use. It is, in fact, a perfect Bach "Organo Pleno" for the rendering of the greater fugues, which is more than can be said of any diapason chorus that Schulze ever made.

People often opine that Bach would have "revelled in the modern organ." In general, I believe that they show thereby a profound misunderstanding of his whole musical outlook. I do not think he would have revelled in it at all. But just occasionally one finds a modern organ which does seem to respond to Bach, and St. Bees is such a one par excellence. There, I do believe that he would, in most respects, have thoroughly enjoyed himself. It is one of the outstanding qualities of nearly all Father Willis's organs that, without being either particularly "baroque" or "modern" in design, they respond with almost equal facility to most periods and styles of organ music, and this is very largely due to the restrained power of the fluework.

As a bass for full to mixtures, the pedal fluework is rather too "woolly" and the reed a little too powerful. But a perfect arrangement is the octave wood 8ft., swell reeds l6ft., 8ft., and 4ft. (box open), and swell to pedal coupler. The great to pedal coupler is not drawn. This provides an entirely independent pedal part which derives its excellent definition from contrast of quality rather than quantity. The large-scale open wood has many and essential uses, but polyphonic music is not among them. For polyphonic purposes, Schulze's superbly pungent wooden contrabass at Hindley is infinitely to be preferred. Unfortunately, for Bach playing, the above set-up at St. Bees cripples the swell for manual use, where the flue chorus is urgently needed in episodal passages. At St. Margaret's, Lee, the swell chorus reeds are an extended unit, and were made separately available on the pedals in 16ft., 8ft. and 4ft. pitches, at Dr. McPherson's instigation, a practice whose value cannot be overstated, since the swell manual is thereby left free for other uses. Where the swell reeds are on a separate slider chest, as at St. Bees, it would be easy to provide a coupler giving "swell H.P. reeds on pedals."

The great reeds have undoubtedly benefited from their harmonic trebles, which have endowed them with a degree of brilliance that is absent from the swell stops. The basses, though full and fairly smooth in tone, lack the adenoidal tightness of all too many modern trombas. They are purely climax stops, and make it unnecessary to couple the tuba or the full swell on any but the rarest occasions. Such little contrast as exists between them and the swell reeds is mainly attributable to their non-enclosure and harmonic trebles. The clarion is more of a true trumpet than is the tromba, and I like it the better of the two. Full fluework with clarion (omitting the tromba) is an excellent effect.

With the exception of the rather questionable vox humana and the possibly redundant oboe, the swell organ is a model of compression. The diapason is soft enough, with closed box, to accompany solos on the solo organ, and the full flue chorus, though very lovely, is somewhat mild, and not particularly brilliant. Although the fifteenth and mixture add something to full swell, it is not much. The full swell piston is set to draw only the contra posaune, cornopean, clarion, fifteenth, and mixture.

The full swell is second in fame only to St. Paul's, and in effect I doubt if it has ever been surpassed. This is rather surprising, because all three chorus reeds appear to be very largely lacking in "devil." The lack of fire is perhaps more apparent than real, as the swell shutters open upwards, so that the tone reaches the player indirectly. This almost certainly does, nevertheless, enhance the effect in the building. If the tuning flap in the front of the box be left open, the player is at once aware of a much more incisive effect and even of an apparently improved attack.

The reeds have an indefinable richness of tone which quite disarms criticism. This is particularly true of the basses, and Willis asserted that the contra posaune was the best he had ever made. In the lower register it makes a beautiful pedal solo. All three reeds are much alike in tone and small in scale. Willis's reed scales as a whole were, of course, considerably smaller than those of his contemporaries, and of some who came after. As is generally the case, a more transparent full swell effect is obtained by omitting the cornopean, and this makes a pleasant variant. Full swell and full great flue-work are almost exactly matched in power, which greatly enhances the value of the tonal contrast between them. Owing to the dominating power of the great reeds, full swell adds little, if anything, when coupled to the full great, and, in fact, this is never done.

Although the pedal open wood is generally thought of in conjunction with the great organ diapasons, I prefer a bass of greater definition, such as mezzo-forte reeds or a contrabass. But I like to hear the tingling full swell surging through a great flood of foundational pedal tone, and this effect at St. Bees is exceptionally thrilling. The open wood is particularly foundational, scaling 14in. by 12 1/2in. at 16ft. and speaking on only 3in. wind. It was an old stop, brought from Lincoln Cathedral, where it formed part of Allen's 1828 instrument. Although it has even less definition than some modern open woods, it lacks that lifeless, leaden thickness of tone which characterises so many modern, heavily winded, examples. It has, too, an unexpected quality of definition, for it is unnicked and speaks a most prompt and prominent octave before settling down on to its ground tone. The ophicleide, too, has an amazing attack, and one can play six notes a second on it, with complete clarity and full speech from each note, although the action is working through the longest tubes in the organ. The tone has body as well as fire, and it lacks that dead, fog-horn quality so often heard from more recent heavy-pressure pedal reeds.

The solo department is useful, though, to my ear, it lacks the remarkable colourfulness of the 1897 enclosed choir at St. Margaret's, Westminster, which, however, speaks on a slightly higher wind pressure of 4in. A particularly interesting and successful experiment was that of putting the salicional at 16ft. pitch and its attendant céleste, which is a dulciana, at 8ft. The value of a 16ft. salicional needs no stressing, and as a céleste, the differing pitch of the two ranks in no way detracts from its success. The céleste, which is the softest rank in the organ, may be used by itself as an accompanimental register, when its being out of tune is scarcely noticeable, though its short compass is a drawback. It can also be used to beat with either the claribel flute or the fairly mild-toned viole. Salicional, viole, and octave coupler produce a satisfactory string chorus which is yet not so vivid as to be inconsistent with the genius of the Willis organ. I believe that Willis's innate "organ sense" would never have allowed him to give way to the extremes of modern string voicing. which is surely no more than a legacy of Hope-Jones that has now outstayed its welcome. The organ has plenty of native colour, without having to ape other concerns. A pleasant full choir setting is salicional 16ft. and flutes 8ft., 4ft., and 2ft. The excellent clarinet lacks the undue "sweetness" that characterises so many modern examples.

The unenclosed tuba is the most brilliant manual reed in the organ, and its attack is by far the best. In this respect, the other reeds quite lack the incisive "snap" of true trumpets. This is not a criticism to their detriment, because they have other qualities lacking in a trumpet. One cannot have it both ways, and in any case it would be a sacrilege to alter these historic stops. This tuba is a most vivid register, and single notes soar through full to mixtures, and even full great, with superb thrill. The effect in full chords, by itself, in contrast with full to mixtures or full great, is most dramatic.

The praises of the late F. J. Livesey, organist of St. Bees from 1887 until his death in 1934, have often been sung. He was also an authority on tonal design, from whom Col. Dixon himself learnt much in his youth. The present organist, Lieut. W. M. Coulthard, is already becoming well known, despite the setback of several years in the Royal Artillery during the war. He combines a sound technique with that all too rare quality, an excellent sense of tone colour, in whose development I believe he would be the first to acknowledge a considerable measure of indebtedness to Col. Dixon. Why is this science of registration (for science it is) so little dwelt upon by most of our leading teachers?

The combination settings which Lieut. Coulthard has at present arrived at after much experiment are so interesting that it is well worth while to set them out here. In only one case (full great) is more than one 8ft. stop drawn by any piston. The fullest use has, however, been made of combining stops at different pitches, and in nearly all cases the tone families are kept separate. It is also interesting to see how fully the settings follow the principles set out in Col. Dixon's superb article on Registration, which has recently appeared in The Organ.

Such economy in registration ensures a clean, clear quality of tone far estranged from that dense, colourless muddle of sound - apparently beloved by most players - which has brought the organ into a not unreasonable disrepute with the ordinary musical public.

Piston settings
(All registers not mentioned are withdrawn)

GREAT
1. Stopped Diapason 8, Flute 4
2. Open Diapason 8, Principal 4
3. Diapasons 16, 8, 4, 2 2/3, 2
4. As above plus Cornet
5. As above plus reeds 8, 4 (withdraws Swell to Great)

SWELL
1. Diapasons 8, 4
2. Diapasons 8, 4, 2, III
3. As above plus Posaune 16
4. (full swell) Diapasons 2, III, reeds 16, 8, 4
5. (Pedal solo) Posaune 16, Swell to Pedal

SOLO
1. Salicional 16, Flutes 8, 4, 2
2. Flutes 8, 4
3. Clarinet 8
4. Salicional 16, Viole 8, Octave coupler
5. Tuba 8

PEDAL
1. (Pedal solo) Open Woods 32, 8, reed 16
2. Bourdons 16, 8
3. Open Wood 16
4. Open Wood 32, Open Diapason 16
5. Open Woods 32, 16
6. (full pedal) Open Woods 32, 16, 8, reed 16

There are five spare slides at St. Bees which it is hoped to fill. One spare on the great will receive a geigen 8ft. There are two spares on the swell. One will receive the invaluable gedeckt 8ft. and the other a l6ft. bassoon on 3 1/2in. wind, of considerably freer tone than the oboe. It will thus be valuable for solo purposes, or in smaller full swell effects when the posaune is too heavy. The vox humana will make way for a second mixture 26 29, which will add a most useful measure of brilliance to full swell. Full swell fluework will also constitute a much better "positiv" effect than is at present the case. A spare slide on the solo is intended for the vox humana, and if the boots are not too large (they are simply enormous), I should like to see it inserted as a l6ft. stop, even if it could not go below tenor C. In such a capacity the excellent combinational potentialities of this stop could be most fully realised.

On the pedals it is hoped to add a 32ft. extension to the ophicleide, and, if possible, to continue the 32ft. open wood downwards by a polyphonic device. The pedal organ also has a spare slide, which might receive a powerful 4ft. reed, since there is at present no provision for this important pedal solo effect without crippling the great organ for other purposes.

When, to the remarkable economy of the almost perfect specification, is added the miraculous proportioning of the stops one to another, and the splendid voicing, it is not difficult to divine the secret of the instrument's amazing flexibility. On the surface, there is no reason to lead the player to expect such adaptability; but in the fact the organ is at home alike with Sweelink or Karg-Elert.

When paying casual visits to large instruments one frequently finds them considerably out of tune, but this was by no means the case when I was at St. Bees. Except for an odd not or two in the high trebles of the single-length swell reeds, the organ was in almost perfect tune. It was difficult to believe that, since the tuner's visit more than six months previously, it had come through the extreme temperature changes of the northern winter without a pipe having been touched. This is all the more remarkable when one reflects that nearly one-third of the speaking stops are reeds. It says much for the excellence of the materials, workmanship, and voicing.

The St. Bees organ is, indeed, an apt monument to the men who designed it and the master who built it. One must hope that its original shape will never be materially altered, for it is an instrument of outstanding importance in the history of English organ building.