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Lot Essay
THE ANGLESEY ABBEY PENDANT AND OTHER COMPARABLE TOWER CLOCKS
This magnificent ‘tower’ clock is an extraordinary example of English clockmaking from the end of the 18th century when production for export to Asia was at its peak. It was almost certainly commissioned by a merchant of the East India Company for trading with China. Although its exact history until the late 20th century is unrecorded, its pair also survives at Anglesey Abbey, England [NT 514745]. The Anglesey Abbey clock was acquired by Lord Fairhaven, via M. & R. Geneen, from a selling exhibition of ten such ‘Eighteenth Century Clocks’ at Robersons’ Gallery of Knightsbridge, London, in circa 1923-25; catalogue number X329, described as a ‘Five Tier and Cupola Clock by James Cox’. Lord Fairhaven also purchased two further clocks from the Robersons catalogue; number X328 a ‘Four Tier Ormulu (sic.) Clock by John Mottram’ [NT 514747] and X327 a ‘Singing Bird Clock by Le Roy’ [NT 514766]. The second clock by John Mottram is also one of a pair, the other was for many years on display at the Royal Army Medical Corps Museum before it was offered for sale at Sotheby’s (London, 6 July 2021, lot 16). It is notable that English clocks of this type were very often made in pairs; a third pair of this ‘tower’ or ‘pagoda’ form with movements by Thompson was in the collection of the Swiss watch and clock dealer Gustave Loup (1876-1961) who acquired them in China before the establishment of the Museum of Peking, now the Palace Museum, Beijing (these were subsequently divided and sold at Christie’s, London, 11-12 June 2003, lot 45 and Sotheby’s, London, 9 July 2014, lot 48, respectively). Other pairs remain in the Palace Museum, Beijing.
JOHN MOTTRAM, CLOCKMAKER
John Mottram (active 1780-1811) had premises in Warden Court, Clerkenwell Close, London. He was one of a number of English makers whose names are found on fine quality musical automaton clocks made for the Asian market.
The case maker is unknown but various details, such as the distinctive feathering on the angle mounts, are to be found on other clocks with Mottram movements such as on the ormolu table clock in this sale and on that from the Nezu Collection (sold Christie’s, Hong Kong, 27 May 2008, lot 1512). Cases such as these would have been supplied by a thriving London metalwork trade, in part or whole, and used by various makers such as Henry Borrell and Robert Philp to fulfill their commissions. These cases are often confused and incorrectly labelled as the work of James Cox (c.1723-1800). Whilst Cox was one of the most prolific makers of this period and certainly exported many clocks to Asia, there were many other workshops who specialize in clocks for the Chinese market.
ENGLISH CLOCKS AND THE CHINESE EXPORT MARKET
Clocks, watches and automata were exported from Europe to China from the 17th century, with the Jesuit priest Matteo Ricci (1552-1610) famously using clocks to gain access to the Imperial Court in 1601. The trade gained far greater significance during the reign of the Qianlong Emperor (1736-1795), who amassed possibly the greatest collection of clocks and watches ever assembled. Initially clocks made for China were destined for the Imperial Court but as trade grew in the latter years of the 18th Century, the market expanded to include those outside the court, including officials and members of the Chinese elite, as well as Europeans who purchased them as gifts to gain favor with the Emperor (C. Pagani, Eastern Magnificence and European Ingenuity, University of Michigan, 2001 pp. 101-102). George Staunton, secretary and minister plenipotentiary to Lord Macartney's embassy to China in 1793 wrote: 'Extraordinary pieces of ingenious and complicated mechanism...were exported annually to a considerable amount. Many of these costly articles, obtained by the Mandarines, under promise of protection from their inferiors, ultimately found their way into the palaces of the Emperor and his Ministers, in the hope of securing the favor of their superiors' (Pagani, p. 102). By the time of Macartney's visit in 1793 the number of clocks in the Imperial collection was astonishing. A visit to the palace at Jehol revealed that the forty or fifty palace buildings he visited were 'all furnished...with every kind of European toys and sing-songs; with spheres, orreries, clocks and musical automatons...' (Pagani, p. 83). And Jehol was just one of three Imperial residences; more would have been on display in the Forbidden City and at the Summer Palace.
A PROTOTYPE OF THE MYSTERY CLOCK
The clock throws new light on the beginnings of the mystery horology – clocks and watches without apparent mechanism driving them. Of course, the mechanism was always there, just cleverly hidden. In this clock, the mechanism is obviously in the base, but the flowers rise and swirl seemingly on their own, just like in nature. In reality, each flower has a complicated mechanism consisting of wheels, pinions, cams, and lobster-claw-shaped lifters hidden below its pot and driven via ingenious transmissions hidden in the columns of each tier.
Until the close examination of this clock, it was believed that the horological mystery genre was the creation of the 19th century, brought to its high level by Cartier in the early 20th century in its so called 'Model A' mystery clocks (started in 1912 and sold to Queen Mary of England, Maharajah Bhupindra Singh of Patiala, John Pierpont Morgan, etc.) This clock re-defines the history of this part of horology.
The clock hides another surprise; its controlling device - the escapement - is of pin-wheel construction. Its pendulum has knife-edge suspension. The pendulum’s length (rate adjustment) is controlled by a knob protruding through the clock’s base. It was an efficient escapement used at the time mostly in the French regulator clocks. In clocks made for the Chinese Market, it is rare but known to exist. Interestingly, one of the pallets is oval to equalize the impulses. This is rare; normally, they are flat. The mechanisms lifting the flowers are based on heart-shaped cams, the basis for modern chronographs, shown for the first time by T. Winnerl in 1843, who claimed to invent them. Apparently, not so. The lobster-claw like lifters lifting the flowers from the zero position and bringing them back to the zero position, terminate with friction rollers to minimize the friction. Modern chronograph zeroing devices are based on this system. The music and the automaton are driven by two barrels geared together and connected to a single fusee. The striking is of a rare form; both the hours and the quarters are run from a single barrel. The music and the automaton are activated every 3 hours or by will- the mechanism has four different tunes. The mechanism has an unusual adjustment capability and the clock has tube-in-tube type key guides for the time and striking mechanisms. This clever system, not needing any screws, is seen in some Cox clocks. The flowers rise and revolve (in one direction), the finial’s outer layer revolves in one direction, and the inner in the opposite. The tip of the finial revolves with the inner layer.
This clock will be discussed in a forthcoming article on the origin of mystery clocks by Philip Poniz, horological expert and editor of ‘Horological Fact and Fiction’ in the periodical Horologie Ancienne.
This magnificent ‘tower’ clock is an extraordinary example of English clockmaking from the end of the 18th century when production for export to Asia was at its peak. It was almost certainly commissioned by a merchant of the East India Company for trading with China. Although its exact history until the late 20th century is unrecorded, its pair also survives at Anglesey Abbey, England [NT 514745]. The Anglesey Abbey clock was acquired by Lord Fairhaven, via M. & R. Geneen, from a selling exhibition of ten such ‘Eighteenth Century Clocks’ at Robersons’ Gallery of Knightsbridge, London, in circa 1923-25; catalogue number X329, described as a ‘Five Tier and Cupola Clock by James Cox’. Lord Fairhaven also purchased two further clocks from the Robersons catalogue; number X328 a ‘Four Tier Ormulu (sic.) Clock by John Mottram’ [NT 514747] and X327 a ‘Singing Bird Clock by Le Roy’ [NT 514766]. The second clock by John Mottram is also one of a pair, the other was for many years on display at the Royal Army Medical Corps Museum before it was offered for sale at Sotheby’s (London, 6 July 2021, lot 16). It is notable that English clocks of this type were very often made in pairs; a third pair of this ‘tower’ or ‘pagoda’ form with movements by Thompson was in the collection of the Swiss watch and clock dealer Gustave Loup (1876-1961) who acquired them in China before the establishment of the Museum of Peking, now the Palace Museum, Beijing (these were subsequently divided and sold at Christie’s, London, 11-12 June 2003, lot 45 and Sotheby’s, London, 9 July 2014, lot 48, respectively). Other pairs remain in the Palace Museum, Beijing.
JOHN MOTTRAM, CLOCKMAKER
John Mottram (active 1780-1811) had premises in Warden Court, Clerkenwell Close, London. He was one of a number of English makers whose names are found on fine quality musical automaton clocks made for the Asian market.
The case maker is unknown but various details, such as the distinctive feathering on the angle mounts, are to be found on other clocks with Mottram movements such as on the ormolu table clock in this sale and on that from the Nezu Collection (sold Christie’s, Hong Kong, 27 May 2008, lot 1512). Cases such as these would have been supplied by a thriving London metalwork trade, in part or whole, and used by various makers such as Henry Borrell and Robert Philp to fulfill their commissions. These cases are often confused and incorrectly labelled as the work of James Cox (c.1723-1800). Whilst Cox was one of the most prolific makers of this period and certainly exported many clocks to Asia, there were many other workshops who specialize in clocks for the Chinese market.
ENGLISH CLOCKS AND THE CHINESE EXPORT MARKET
Clocks, watches and automata were exported from Europe to China from the 17th century, with the Jesuit priest Matteo Ricci (1552-1610) famously using clocks to gain access to the Imperial Court in 1601. The trade gained far greater significance during the reign of the Qianlong Emperor (1736-1795), who amassed possibly the greatest collection of clocks and watches ever assembled. Initially clocks made for China were destined for the Imperial Court but as trade grew in the latter years of the 18th Century, the market expanded to include those outside the court, including officials and members of the Chinese elite, as well as Europeans who purchased them as gifts to gain favor with the Emperor (C. Pagani, Eastern Magnificence and European Ingenuity, University of Michigan, 2001 pp. 101-102). George Staunton, secretary and minister plenipotentiary to Lord Macartney's embassy to China in 1793 wrote: 'Extraordinary pieces of ingenious and complicated mechanism...were exported annually to a considerable amount. Many of these costly articles, obtained by the Mandarines, under promise of protection from their inferiors, ultimately found their way into the palaces of the Emperor and his Ministers, in the hope of securing the favor of their superiors' (Pagani, p. 102). By the time of Macartney's visit in 1793 the number of clocks in the Imperial collection was astonishing. A visit to the palace at Jehol revealed that the forty or fifty palace buildings he visited were 'all furnished...with every kind of European toys and sing-songs; with spheres, orreries, clocks and musical automatons...' (Pagani, p. 83). And Jehol was just one of three Imperial residences; more would have been on display in the Forbidden City and at the Summer Palace.
A PROTOTYPE OF THE MYSTERY CLOCK
The clock throws new light on the beginnings of the mystery horology – clocks and watches without apparent mechanism driving them. Of course, the mechanism was always there, just cleverly hidden. In this clock, the mechanism is obviously in the base, but the flowers rise and swirl seemingly on their own, just like in nature. In reality, each flower has a complicated mechanism consisting of wheels, pinions, cams, and lobster-claw-shaped lifters hidden below its pot and driven via ingenious transmissions hidden in the columns of each tier.
Until the close examination of this clock, it was believed that the horological mystery genre was the creation of the 19th century, brought to its high level by Cartier in the early 20th century in its so called 'Model A' mystery clocks (started in 1912 and sold to Queen Mary of England, Maharajah Bhupindra Singh of Patiala, John Pierpont Morgan, etc.) This clock re-defines the history of this part of horology.
The clock hides another surprise; its controlling device - the escapement - is of pin-wheel construction. Its pendulum has knife-edge suspension. The pendulum’s length (rate adjustment) is controlled by a knob protruding through the clock’s base. It was an efficient escapement used at the time mostly in the French regulator clocks. In clocks made for the Chinese Market, it is rare but known to exist. Interestingly, one of the pallets is oval to equalize the impulses. This is rare; normally, they are flat. The mechanisms lifting the flowers are based on heart-shaped cams, the basis for modern chronographs, shown for the first time by T. Winnerl in 1843, who claimed to invent them. Apparently, not so. The lobster-claw like lifters lifting the flowers from the zero position and bringing them back to the zero position, terminate with friction rollers to minimize the friction. Modern chronograph zeroing devices are based on this system. The music and the automaton are driven by two barrels geared together and connected to a single fusee. The striking is of a rare form; both the hours and the quarters are run from a single barrel. The music and the automaton are activated every 3 hours or by will- the mechanism has four different tunes. The mechanism has an unusual adjustment capability and the clock has tube-in-tube type key guides for the time and striking mechanisms. This clever system, not needing any screws, is seen in some Cox clocks. The flowers rise and revolve (in one direction), the finial’s outer layer revolves in one direction, and the inner in the opposite. The tip of the finial revolves with the inner layer.
This clock will be discussed in a forthcoming article on the origin of mystery clocks by Philip Poniz, horological expert and editor of ‘Horological Fact and Fiction’ in the periodical Horologie Ancienne.