THE EVOLUTION OF THE LONG-CASE CLOCK
Its inception--Its Dutch origin--The changing forms of the
hood, the waist, and the base--The dial and its character--The
ornamentation of the spandrel--The evolution of the hands.
From 1680 to 1850 is a long period of time for a particular style of
timepiece to run without interruption or without displacement by any
other fashion. It may naturally be supposed that during this period
changes have occurred in form, in decoration, and in a score of minor
details delightful to the collector and interesting to the student of
form in design. The inception of the long case was due to the common
use of the seconds pendulum. This required a certain space to swing
in, and the pendulum was of a certain length. This undue length does
not seem to have been necessary in the wall clock of the so-called
"Act of Parliament" type, and as Lord Grimthorpe, the constructor of
"Big Ben" at Westminster, says: "Spring clocks are generally resorted
to for the purpose of saving length; for as clocks are generally made
in England, it is impossible to make a weight clock capable of going
a week, without either a case nearly 4 feet high, or else the weights
so heavy as to produce a great friction on the arbour of the great
wheel. But this arises from nothing but the heaviness of the wheels and
the badness of the pinions used in most English clocks, as is amply
proved by the fact that the American and Austrian clocks go a week
with smaller weights and much less fall than English ones, and the
American ones with no assistance from fine workmanship for the purpose
of diminishing friction, as they are remarkable for their want of what
is called 'finish' in the machinery, on which so much time and money is
wasted in English clock-work."
=Its Dutch Origin.=--As we have before explained, the marquetry case
came straight from Holland. Our "grandfather" was a Dutchman, as
far as clock-cases go. The Dutchman Huygens is credited with having
been the first to employ the pendulum in the mechanism of the clock.
Leonardo da Vinci, that stupendous genius, left notes as to his study
of the pendulum (1452-1520), and Galileo came with his later studies
(1564-1642). It is a disputed point as to when and where the pendulum
came into being. We must accept Huygens (1629-95) as the practical
exponent of the pendulum, although not the original discoverer of its
properties. But at any rate, the long-case clock may be generally
accepted as coincident with the use of the long or seconds pendulum.
And to Holland we must look for this habitual usage of the long wooden
case to protect the weights and the pendulum.
Among the designs of Marot there are drawings of long-case clocks
certainly more ornate than those usually associated with such an early
period (this was about 1660 to 1680), and French Louis XIV and Louis XV
tall clocks are built on these lines, and Chippendale at a later period
found Marot an exceedingly prolific master of design to study.
=The Changing Forms of the Hood, the Waist, and the Base.=--The
evolution of form in one class of object from one period to another
is of exceptional interest. In furniture, in china, in glass, and in
silver, the progression of forms is so marked as to give practically
a date to each piece. The gate-leg table can be traced from three to
twelve legs with double gates. The chair, from its straight oaken back
and massive arms to the tapering legs and curves of the satinwood
period, runs through stages as definitely marked as though the makers
had signed the pieces. Now the stretcher is low, next it becomes
higher, then it disappears altogether; or the splats in the back are
single, then double, with cane panels, and then again upholstered. The
top rail of the chair affords similar delectation to the connoisseur of
form changing for a definite reason.
The clock-case underwent equal changes in character, not only in its
decoration, as we have seen, in marquetry, in lacquer, and in veneers
of burr-walnut and mahogany, but its proportions varied. At first,
coming as it did in the walnut period, the hood had turned rails, in
keeping with the turned rails of the chairs of the time. The hood
was square and small, the waist was more slender, and the base in
proportion. During the marquetry and the lacquered periods the hood
began to grow larger and more dominant. It had a domed superstructure,
and the finials or metal terminals were more ornamental and grew in
number (see illustrations, pp. 133, 117). The massive character of the
early mahogany period, culminating with Chippendale, had its effect on
the long clock-case. The hood had a pagoda-like edifice in the Chinese
style (see illustration, p. 239), or it had the woodcarver's adoption
of architecture, as in the crest of the hood (see illustrations, pp.
145, 117). The rail in the hood had become a Corinthian pillar, and
later a pilaster. At the end of the eighteenth and beginning of the
nineteenth century it had a new form: when it was turned mahogany
it stood away from the case, as an ornament apart, rather than a
supporting pillar (see illustration, p. 233). This is a noticeable
feature in country-made clocks of this period.
At first there was no door in the case. But on the introduction of
the door, its panelled form commenced to make its progression in form
in accompaniment with the other features of the case. It was square,
in simple forms, with square hoods. In 1730 it took the form somewhat
similar to the shape of the lowest marquetry panel, as shown in the
clock by Jas. Leicester (see Frontispiece). It really follows the
chair-backs of a period of some ten or fifteen years' prior date. It
is an instance of the clock-case slightly lagging behind contemporary
furniture design. The shapes of these panels resemble the chair-backs
of the James II, William and Mary, and the Queen Anne period. In some
instances the simple form becomes taller, terminating in a small
semicircle. The Sussex iron fire-backs of the seventeenth century show
similar forms of panel.
By 1770 the panel had lost its lunette or semi-circular form at top,
and in outline resembled a Chippendale chair-back. The evolution is
easily traceable. A similar fashion is observed in tombstones in old
country churchyards. By the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries, especially in certain North of England type clock-cases,
notably Lancashire and Cheshire, these panels are Gothic in character
(see illustration, p. 231). Following French fashion, in some late
examples there is a glass panel (see illustration, p. 275).
The base undergoes certain changes, though in a lesser degree.
Sometimes plain, sometimes with a plinth, sometimes with feet. Dutch
long clock-cases have great wooden balls as feet. In the Chippendale
period the plinth has a suggestion of Chinese character. In later
types the feet are more pronounced, and the base has an ornamental
panel in the Sheraton period with a delicate marquetry inlay of simple
character. In Sheraton's _Design Book_ there are two clocks showing the
base further ornamented by turned pillars similar to the hood.
The growing importance of these feet and their frequent use, especially
in ornate examples, are shown in the specimens illustrated (pp. 133,
137).
=The Dial and its Character.=--When only one hand was in use, it was
obviously not necessary to denote the minutes. Later, the minutes were
engraved on the dial to meet the use of the minute hand; sometimes
these were in a circle inside the hour numerals, and later they were
put on the outer edge, outside the hour numerals. The hour numerals are
almost invariably of Roman style, and the figure IV has by universal
custom been engraved IIII, though there are examples of a late period
with IV which are of country make. Similarly, Arabic figures have also
been used. The illustration of a fine dial, of eighteenth century
period, showing the various phases of the iron industry at Ashburnham,
in Sussex, has these figures; this is a country-made clock (p. 243).
The dials were brass, and the hour numerals appeared on a circle of
brass plated with silver. Iron dials were used later, in the decadent
period, and both numerals and floral designs were painted on the
enamelled surface in lieu of engraved and ornamental metal-work, and
often a landscape or figure subject occupied the lunette.
The lunette form followed the square face, and sometimes the maker put
his name in this lunette, and later below the centre of the clock,
and later again not at all on the dial. The lunette form no doubt
determined the shape of the panel of the door in the case below, to
which we have previously alluded. The illustration (p. 159) shows
these forms. The dial, by Henry Massy (1680), has the name between the
numerals VI and VII. The lunette form in a dial by John Draper (1703)
has the name of the maker in a circular disc above the hour circle.
[Illustration: BRASS DIAL BY HENRY MASSY, LONDON. ABOUT 1680.
Clock with usual eight-day movement.
(An enlargement of this dial is illustrated p. 163).
(_By courtesy of Edward Campbell, Esq., Glasgow._)]
[Illustration: BRASS DIAL BY JOHN DRAPER, LONDON. ABOUT 1703.
Spandrels exhibiting later floral style of decoration.
(_At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York._)]
Enlargements of the Henry Massy dial and of another by John Bushman
show the character of engraving and the position of the maker's name
(illustrated p. 163).
In regard to the engraving put on the dials of these old clocks, it
is not impossible that William Hogarth, when he was an apprentice
at Master Ellis Gamble's shop, at the sign of the "Golden Angel"
in Cranbourn Street, Leicester Fields, did some of this work. We
know that Thomas Bewick engraved clock dials when an apprentice at
Newcastle-upon-Tyne (see p. 215).
The last form of the long-case dial is circular, an unusual type in
vogue during the closing decades of the eighteenth century, belonging
to the classic and French styles and in no way diverting the fashion of
the main stream of case-makers.
Concerning the use of glass for the protection of the dial in the
long-case clock, it was in use in coaches for the first time in 1667.
According to Pepys' _Diary_ we learn: "Another pretty thing was my
Lady Ashly's speaking of the bad qualities of the glass coaches, among
others the flying open of the doors upon any great shake; but another,
my Lady Peterborough, being in her glass coach with the glass up, and
seeing a lady pass by in a coach whom she would salute, the glass was
so clear that she thought it had been open, and so ran her head through
the glass."
At first the hood of the clock lifted off and the glass was fixed;
later the glass was framed in a door, and subsequently the hood slid
off, which fashion is found in all but the earliest examples.
The term "dial" is a survival of the word "sundial." Like all
innovations, there may have been those who preferred the old character,
or it may have been left to Charles Lamb, lover of past and faded
memories, to ruminate on garden gods in the Temple: "What an antique
air had the now almost effaced sundials, with their moral inscriptions,
seeming coevals with that Time which they measured, and to take
their revelations of its flight immediately from heaven, holding
correspondence with the fountain of light.... The shepherd, 'carved
it out quaintly in the sun,' and turning philosopher by the very
occupation, provided it with mottoes more touching than tombstones."
Elia, Shakespearean scholar that he was, could not have forgotten the
melancholy Jaques with his:--
I met a fool i' the forest,
A motley fool; a miserable world!
As I do live by food, I met a fool;
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms and yet a motley fool.
"Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, sir," quoth he,
"Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune":
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely: "It is ten o'clock:
Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags:
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale."
[Illustration: ENLARGEMENT OF DIAL.
Showing maker's name, John Bushman, London. About 1680.
From lantern clock illustrated as Frontispiece.]
[Illustration: ENLARGEMENT OF DIAL.
Showing maker's name, Hen. Massy, London, and square dial indicating
date of month. About 1680.
From long-case clock illustrated p. 159.]
It is not probable that the "fool i' the forest" drew from his pocket a
sundial; it was, no doubt, a pocket-clock, or, in other words, a watch.
The art of dial-making is a subtle one. It is true that some are
pleasing in their balance and others are displeasing, which sets us
wondering what rules there are to govern the symmetrical arrangement
of circles and figures and their co-related hands. There is an air of
solemn grandeur about a fine dial; its dignity is as unruffled as the
march of Time itself. The old masters of dial construction had the
art of spacing as completely under control as had Caxton the great
typographer in the balance of his printed page.
What Lord Grimthorpe has said[3] about the dials of turret clocks
applies in its principles to the dials of domestic clocks. "The
figures are generally made much too large. People have a pattern
dial painted; and if the figures are not as long as one-third of the
radius, and therefore occupying, with the minutes, about two-thirds of
the area of the dial, they fancy they are not large enough to be read
at a distance; whereas the fact is, the more the dial is occupied by
figures, the less distinct they are, and the more difficult it is to
distinguish the position of the hands, which is what people want to
see, and not to read the figures, which may very well be replaced by
twelve large spots.... The rule which has been adopted, after various
experiments, as the best for the proportions of the dial is this:
Divide the radius into three, and leave the inner two-thirds clear and
flat, and of some colour forming a strong contrast to the colour of
the hands--black or dark blue if they are gilt, and white if they are
black. The figures, if there are any, should occupy the next two-thirds
of the remaining third, and the minutes be set in the remainder near
the edge."
[3] _Encyclopædia Britannica_ (ninth edition), vol. vi.
=The Ornamentation of the Spandrel.=--There are some interesting types
of ornamentation of the space between the hour circle and the square
outlines of the dial. The neat filling of spandrels offered problems to
the architect and woodworker long before the clockmaker found similar
difficulties. It is not easy exactly to fill a triangle with a design
that is pleasing. Some of the best examples are found in Italian
lettering, old sixteenth-century woodcuts of the letter L.
In English clocks, the spandrel in the lantern clock about 1670 had a
plain cherub head, as simple in character as the fine pearwood carving
from a Buckinghamshire church we illustrate of a slightly earlier
period, still rich with unimpaired colour (p. 167). German clocks had
this device of the cherub's head, but not in the spandrel. At the
British Museum there is one example with this cherub-head as a base
ornament at the foot of the clock, which rests on it. This is in date
1600.
[Illustration: ENGLISH WOOD-CARVING.
Painted and gilded. Early seventeenth century.
(_In collection of author._)]
[Illustration: BRASS SPANDREL.
From dial of clock by Henry Massy (London), 1680, illustrated p. 159.]
The design of the cherub with outspread wings was common enough in
Italy, where children have served as models since Donatello. It became
established as a form and was a favourite embellishment of the English
stone-carver in the seventeenth century. Horace Walpole protested
at its abuse by the contemporaries of Christopher Wren, and it can be
found outside St. Paul's Cathedral and in many other London churches
and over late Stuart doorways.
It was, therefore, nothing new; it was a pleasing spandrel ornament
which appealed to the clockmaker as suitable to clock dials. It
naturally received floriated additions, and both in its simpler form
and in this later and more elaborate variation it appears on the
spandrels of clock dials (see p. 167).
It is interesting to find the clockmaker so conservative. Once the
cherub found its way on to clocks, there it remained. It is in the
clock at Windsor Castle which Henry VIII gave to Anne Boleyn, formerly
at Strawberry Hill before Queen Victoria purchased it. In its first
form on the spandrel it practically followed the simple woodcarver's
design we illustrate, but with this difference: the triangle to be
filled by the clockmaker in his spandrels, at each of the four corners
of his dial, was exactly opposite to that of the woodcarver or the
stone-carver where he made a bracket. The triangle in these cases stood
on its apex. The clockmaker's triangle stood on its base. Hence it will
be observed that a straight line drawn along the head of the cherub (p.
167) finds itself level with the top of the two wings. The clockmaker
modified this in his metal spandrel ornaments. He dropped the wings, so
that the top of the cherub's head is the apex of the triangle and the
tips of the two wings the base.
Later, the head, although still retained, was enveloped in floriated
ornament and the cherub became unrecognizable. But the triangle is well
filled.
We next come to a most interesting stage, coincident in time with the
rebuilding of Hampton Court. The "Glorious Revolution" had become
established and James II sent packing. The two cherubs holding up the
Protestant crown would seem by its prevalence at this period to be a
sort of symbolic record of events that were happening. Huguenot and
Dutch metal-workers put their thoughts into form, and we find this
William and Mary Protestant emblem on the clock-face (see p. 171).
But we also find it on the stretcher of the walnut chair of the period
(as illustrated, p. 171). Nor is this all. Lambeth and Bristol delft
dishes contribute their pæan in honour of the House of Orange. On some
a crown is found, with the date 1690, the sole decoration of a plate
some 9 inches in diameter. On others a crown is shown on a cushion,
with the sceptre and orb beside it. These are all contemporary with
other English delft dishes bearing crudely painted portraits of William
and Mary crowned.
Cardinal Wolsey's coat of arms, as shown at Hampton Court, was two
cherubs supporting a cardinal's hat. One can imagine that Queen
Mary, backed by little Christopher Wren, brought Daniel Marot and
Grinling Gibbons to put an end to all this. Accordingly, if one pays
a pilgrimage to Hampton Court one sees the carved angels triumphantly
holding up the Protestant crown to supplant Wolsey's former insignia
of arrogant splendour under the old religion.
[Illustration: DETAIL OF STRETCHER OF WALNUT CHAIR.
Of William and Mary period.]
[Illustration: BRASS SPANDREL OF DIAL OF CLOCK.
Showing design of angels supporting crown.]
In regard to the long continuance of this design, it is interesting to
observe that it appears in plates attributed to the Lowestoft factory.
As a matter of fact, such plates were made in Holland to the order of
some shipmaster. They usually celebrate the wedding of some persons
in the district, whose names are still known. They are decorated in
blue, and have two cherubs supporting a heart, over which is a crown.
There is one dated 1755, inscribed "Henry and Mary Quinton, Yarmouth,
Norfolk." Its Dutch origin is proven by the orthography with the two
dots over the letters _y_, and the misplacing of other letters: "Henrÿ
and Marÿ Q[.u]inton, Yarmo[.u]th, nor ff: olk. 1755."
After the two cherubs on the clock spandrel came further floriated
designs minus the cherub's head. This, later, disappeared, and the
spandrel had only a matted surface, in contrast to the rest of the
dial. This in turn disappeared when the dial departed from its former
glory of a silvered hour circle and became a sheet of iron painted
according to taste. We give examples of this--the Sussex dial depicting
the iron works (p. 243) and the provincial style with the lunette
painted with a figure subject (p. 249). The end of the story is the
china dial of the painted Hindeloopen Dutch clocks beloved of our
childhood, with weights and chains and other pleasing mechanism. Here
the nineteenth century Dutch clock joins hands with the old wall clock
of the seventeenth century, Dame Fashion having pirouetted round the
dial, trifling with all collectors in "the whirligig of time."
=The Evolution of the Hands.=--The early examples of the long-case
clock or of the lantern clock with one hand show a fine rich design
in metal-work in the hand itself. It was brass, often gilded, or iron
wrought with great skill and beauty. At the advent of the minute hand
it was made in character with its fellow. At first the dial had a
_fleur-de-lis_, and later a slightly more floriated use of this emblem
on the hour circle between each hour. In old examples the hand, when it
came opposite this decoration, was in keeping with the _fleur-de-lis_
as though it were part of the design of the hand. It is only a fancy,
but, as no design comes by accident, it is very probable that such was
the idea of the old dial engraver.
The study of hands is exceptionally interesting; they run through a
regular series of styles, as varied as the ornamentation of the cases.
Some of the designs are of exquisite balance as specimens of delicate
metal-work, in which the English have always been proficient. Their
character can be gauged by the expert clockmaker or connoisseur to such
a nicety that it can be seen at once if the clock has its original
hands or not. Those of my readers who wish to pursue this subject will
find the hands adequately treated and well illustrated in _English
Domestic Clocks_, by Mr. Herbert Cesinsky and Mr. Malcolm R. Webster, a
volume which no student of clocks should fail to consult as a practical
and authoritative work.
In regard to hands, it is curious that the fashion of placing a minute
hand to travel around the dial with the hour hand has established a
method of reckoning time in a popular manner not in accordance with
scientific exactitude. The eye glances at the dial and sees that the
minute hand has so many minutes to travel _before_ reaching the next
hour. We accordingly say, for instance, it is twenty minutes to four
or ten minutes to four. On one half of the dial we have acted quite
scientifically in saying it is ten minutes past three or half-past
three, but the moment the point of the half hour is reached we act in
a different manner. We never speak or think of four thirty-five, four
forty, or four fifty, unless we have to consult the railway time-table.
This all comes about by reason of the minute hand being placed as it
is. In clocks with the minute hand having a separate dial of its own
no such unscientific error would have arisen. The second hand in such
clocks travels around the dial and points outside the hour numerals.