<%@LANGUAGE="VBSCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%>

UK

Beechcroft, Broughton,
Hampshire
SO20 8DA
T. +44 (0)1794 301 141
F. +44 (0)1794 301 526
E. infoUK@corfieldmorris.com

 

USA

32 Gramercy Park South
Suite 11c
New York, NY 10003
T. +1 (212) 460 9005
F. +1 (212) 460 9005
E. infoUSA@corfieldmorris.com

 

The Canny Collector

 



Clockwork investments
In the field of antiques many people think that the age of an object is the most important factor in valuing it, but this is not always so. Take watches, for example. People often pay more for a second-hand Rolex than for a 17th-century pocket watch. This seems perverse to me because early watches were at the cutting edge of the technology of their day. I have one in my own collection that is dated 1669 and is exquisitely engraved and pierced in a show of skill seldom seen in the 20th century. The mechanism does not work, and the case is badly damaged, but it is a beautiful object and I love it, despite the fact that it is almost worthless.

Even at their best, early watches seldom kept good time, so most houses and many public places had larger longcase clocks, often called grandfather clocks today. (There is a famous example in the Pump Rooms in Bath.) With their long pendulums and their relatively simple movements driven by large weights, these clocks were considerably more accurate and would be used as the standard time from which you would reset your watch daily.

A good Georgian mahogany longcase clock would cost between £5,000 and £10,000.

 

Throughout the 18th century, clockmakers were constantly striving for greater accuracy. As their knowledge of the laws of physics grew, so they were able to devise "regulators" - longcase clocks that incorporated various technical innovations. One of the first of these was the "dead beat" escapement. The escapement is the part of a clock's mechanism that makes it tick. You can instantly recognise a clock fitted with a dead beat because the second hand advances steadily. On a normal "anchor escapement" the hand rocks gently, advancing then dropping back before advancing again.

Clockmakers aimed to keep the regulator's movements simple by using as few moving parts as possible in order to reduce friction. Each part was machined with great care. They preferred not to include a striking mechanism because it caused an hourly drag every time it was triggered.

The pendulum, too, was improved. At first, the rod was fabricated with steel, but this expanded and contracted in relation to the temperature of the surrounding air and interfered with the accuracy of the timekeeping, so it was replaced with wood, which was not so much affected by changes in heat.

Later, bi-metallic strips were used and, ultimately, weights filled with mercury, which compensated for changes in atmospheric pressure and so further improved accuracy.

Finally, the weights driving the clock were refined from the crude cast-iron objects found in most longcases to brass-cased cylinders carefully machined to the correct size.

Regulators are usually recognisable by their simple cases, unadorned but of first-class materials. A fine Georgian regulator would cost upwards of £20,000, but a Victorian example might be as little as £3,500. One of the most unusual regulators I have ever seen was driven by a miniature water-wheel. The wheel was designed to fix on to the end of a long shaft that would extend outside the room where the clock was housed - presumably in a place such as a water mill where a constant supply of water could be provided. It was strange to see a longcase clock with no weights, but it did have a wooden pendulum and a well-machined but simple movement. It is now installed in the house of a computer engineer in Silicon Valley. He tells me it keeps perfect time and, best of all, he says, it never needs winding up.