Travelling Through Time with History's Weirdest Clocks

Here at the British Museum, we have clocks and watches and instruments that will help you get through your day. Since we do not yet have a time machine, I'll have my retro alter-ego travel across the years through a virtual 24-hour day to unlock these horological wonders where they might once have been found. Hello, I'm Oliver Cook, Curator of Horology at the British Museum. Welcome to my corner. Now, how would you rather wake up? To a flash of gunpowder, or to a cup of tea? Let's look at the gunpowder option first. Here we have a beautiful little table alarm clock, made in Austria in the first quarter of the 18th century by a non-nome maker. The clock isn't signed, so how do we know it was made in Austria? Well, there are other similar examples that exist that were signed. It's beautifully engraved all over. Around the sides we have cavalrymen fighting, and then on top here we have Britannia. Now, what's Britannia doing on an Austrian clock, you may ask? Well, this clock is clearly made for export to this country. We also have a dial very much in the English pattern, and the other clocks that exist are dials made to suit other countries' tastes. Now, we've set the alarm on our setting disc in the middle here. It's loaded with gunpowder. The flintlock is primed. We go to sleep. I bet you were expecting a big bang then, weren't you? Well, alas not, I'm afraid. When gunpowder is ignited in a container, it will explode. Here it is laid on this little tray, and it will just make more of a whoosh noise as it's ignited. And in fact, you're more likely to be woken by the sound of the action of the mechanism igniting the gunpowder. But once you are awake, your room will be beautifully lit with this little candle here. Or, if you're unlucky, the candle would have gone sailing into the drapery of your four-poster bed, causing a much bigger fire than you're expecting, and you'll be out of bed very quickly indeed. If you'd like an equally warming way to wake up, but perhaps safer, maybe a nice cup of tea would do it. This is a teesmaid, made by the Goblin Company of the United Kingdom. These were made from 1977 to the early 1980s. And yes, it's an arghot that will automatically make you a cup of tea. Here on the left, we have an electric kettle, and here on the right, we have a teapot. So, in the evening, you would fill your kettle with water. You might not see the electric element, like any electric kettle. Place that back in there, and the unit won't operate without the kettle being full and in place properly. And then, of course, you also put some tea bags or teas into your teapot. So, kettle full of water, teapot full of tea. All that remains now is to set the time at which you want to wake up. So, we just move this wheel down here. You'll see the orange hand going round, but let's leave that around about half past five. It's a bit ambitious, but here we are, for demonstration purposes only. And then we simply press auto. That's it, we go to sleep. And then, in the morning, we'll be woken up by a buzzer and a light going off. And the kettle will boil very slowly. I've had one of these, and it boils beautifully slowly. When it comes to boiling temperature, the water will feed its way into the teapot and brew the tea. And that's a much more pleasant way to start the day, from the risk of your bed being set on fire. OK, so, we've had our cup of tea, we're up and at it. Time to go to work. And on the way out the door, you might grab your watch. In this case, a nice example by Charles Houdin of Paris, who was one of Breguet's students. Abraham-Louis Breguet, the world's greatest watchmaker, I think we can safely say that. We'll be seeing more of him later. But this isn't any old watch. It is, in fact, a double dial. It is a pedometer. It's a step counter. It's interesting to think what were pedometers actually being used for. We're very familiar now with the idea of fitness and fitness watches, and keeping track of our heart rate alongside our steps and calorie intake, and all that stuff that I don't do, but I should do. And if we reach out to our prints and drawings department, we have trade papers for various watchmakers. And here, we have a Ralph Gout of England, and he was a pioneer maker of pedometers in this country. And he published this paper around about the same time as the pedometer watch that we just looked at. This is clearly marketing bump from this Ralph Gout. Ralph Gout, by the way, is a wonderful name when we're talking about pedometers. But he talks of military operations and engineers and surveying and topography. Then he does talk about fitness and going for leisurely walks. So, he's covering all bases. He wants everybody to buy his particular watch. So, the leisure business wasn't quite what it is now, but it was certainly a selling point. If we open it up, we have two things going on. Here, we have the watch movement. And here, we have the pedometer movement mechanism. And every time you take a step, the weight here would click down with each step. And you may not see, because it's tiny, but every time we drop the weight that you just saw, the hand would index a minute amount. And I did a rough calculation of how to advance one of these small subdivisions with about 180 steps, which means we have 1,800 steps in one of the main units on the dial. Now, an English mile is 1,760 yards. So, if we take a step as an English yard, that tells us this is showing us steps as miles. And that's interesting, because I've already told you this watch was made in France. France have never used the English mile. So, it seems we have another example of a watch, in this case, being made for export for the English market. And if we look a bit more closely, we see the word foreign. And that just confirms our suspicions. We close it back up. And off we go to work. So, we've finally made it to work. In my case, the British Museum. So, it's time to clock in. This is a clocking in clock made by the Gledhill Brook Time Recorders Limited in the north of England. You would punch in on your way into work, and again, on your way out to work. And it will, therefore, record your hours. And these were found in many, many workplaces around the country. And I remember using similar things myself when I first started working. And this is actually a clock that was used by the British Museum. And we have, here, sellotape inside the glass. And memo to staff. And not just any staff. It's addressed to industrial class labourers. I'm not sure who the industrial class labourers were, but the memo is dated 15th May 1979. We're told the normal conditioned hours of work, Monday to Friday, are 8am to 12 noon and 12.45 to 4.45pm. So, there's no flexible working in these days. Staff are reminded that it is a criminal offence to clock on or clock off for somebody else. So, there we go. The memo is absolutely magic and tells us a lot about the clock and who used it. Now, the clock itself was made in 1942. How can we be so precise? Because we have a serial number here and we have records to tell us that. So, for those of you too young to remember how these would work. What we have is a slot on top. And you stick your card in the slot. Push down on the lever. And very faded now, it would mark the time on your card. So, that's us clocking in. You notice this lever here. We have on, in, off and out. And when we leave work at the end of the day, we'll move the lever across. Clock out. And now we have the out time on the same card. So, the lever moves the print in head, if you like. And what's also happening, the machine is taking a notch out of the bottom of the card. So, every time I put it in, it's getting a little bit lower. So, when I come in the next day, it won't print over the previous recorded time. How it cuts the notch is a mystery. Because on the side here, there's a padlock. This is how the clock came to us. We don't have the key. And I've not been able to look at any of the mechanism down here. But I'm very keen to. So, at some point, we'll involve the museum locksmiths. We'll ask them very nicely to come and get the lock open for us. And we'll see exactly how it works. I've researched some of these clocks. And by all accounts, there's a rather high quality clock movement behind that dial. Now, as I've mentioned, this clock was owned and used at the British Museum. And it's actually the only clock I'm showing you today which isn't an accessioned registered object. But this and a number of clocks that came from around the museum, from various dirty cupboards and backrooms where they weren't being used anymore, have found their way here to the clock room. And we're in a process of considering whether to acquire them officially into the collections. But I think it's a good one. Right, we've clocked in. We've done a hard morning's work. It's 22.11. It must be lunchtime. And here we have two wonderful instruments to help us with that. We have a gilt chalice. Of course, not everything is as it seems in this room, as you all have realised by now. It is, in fact, a sundial. And in the centre here, we have a pin gnomon to cast a shadow of the sun on the airlines, on the inside of the chalice. It measures the height, the altitude of the sun, to give us the time. And because of that, we need to account for the time of year. So what we have engraved around here are the signs of the zodiac. So what we must do is align the dial so the shadow falls on the appropriate zodiac for the time of year. And then we can read the time of day off the hour lines. They're very rare. Chalice dials are very rare. Some, I believe, were designed to only show the time correctly when a liquid was placed in them. But that's not the case here, I don't believe. Here on the inside, we have a rather nice inscription. Bartholomeus Abbott of Oldersback made this in 1554. Now, Bartholomeus, as Bartholomeus Maddow, was indeed Abbott of Oldersback Monastery at this time. And he made a number of chalice dials and other astronomical instruments. And he seems to be rather celebrated in town to this day. And every two to three years, I believe, there's a performance, a choir, a film, a play, all intertwined, celebrating the Abbott and the chalice. So there we are. We might fill that with water, of course, at lunchtime at work. But we should have something to eat with our water. And we might need a knife to help us do that. And here is a rather beautiful knife. You'll notice the handle is engraved on all sides. It's rather worn now, but these are showing various deities and various scenes. But there's more to it than that. Because if we open up the top here, we have some volvelles for astronomical calculations. And we open up this level. And you see a reclining ivory figure. And then we can open these panels. Revealing on the insides various astronomical tables. And behind those, more ivory carvings. And that's not all. What we have in the top here is a little equinoctial sundial. And we can use this sundial anywhere. It's universal. We just have to adjust it for our latitude. Of course, a dial of this size is of limited use. You really need something much bigger to gain any sort of precise time from the sun. But it is the monument. It's a plain thing of somebody very fortunate indeed. This would have been a very expensive object to make. And not everybody could have afforded or possessed it. Okay. Well, that's lunch done. Time for another cup of tea, I feel. This time, let's transport ourselves to the conservatory of our grand house somewhere in Europe. Where you might expect bird cages hanging from the glass ceiling. Singing for our pleasure. Except in this case, it's not quite a living bird. This is an automaton clock. And our little friend here would have sung on demand. We put a chord and it would sing. Its beak would move, its wings might flap. And it would whistle a tune for us. And all that carried out through a mechanism here. And levers come up and through and operate the beak. It doesn't work anymore, unfortunately. Such is the way of things. And these are very rare, very special pieces. This particular one is unsigned. But we attribute it to Jaquet Gros of Switzerland. He did make other examples of singing bird clocks. And signed them. And this seems to be one of those. We have figures from Meissen. Known as cupids in disguise around on the corner. A very popular series in the 18th century. We also have little enameled plaques on each face. Showing cupids up to various things. You might ask yourself. I'm watching a film about clocks and horology. Why is he showing me this? Well, if I tip this up. You will see underneath. A clock dial. So if you imagine this piece was hanging from the roof of our conservatory. Just like a birdcage. You'd be able to read the time from underneath. Very spectacular thing. And there we have it. Our singing bird automaton clock. We're finally home from work. We've got a party to go to this evening. Which watch shall I take? Well, I think this would be a good choice. This is a very fine watch. Still in its original presentation case. And here you have a beautiful gold watch. Made by Abraham Louis Breguet. Who we came across earlier. Who was, well, the finest watchmaker there ever has been. And this is a lovely example. That came to us in 2018. What's known as a Montretat. And let's have a look at what it does. If we open the front cover. We see a beautiful engine turn dial. Something that Breguet was a master of. And you'll notice the watch has a single hand. Goes round once in 12 hours. And here we are just before 1 o'clock at the moment. Now, if I close the cover. You'll notice this rather stout gold hand. And what I can do is push that around. Until it stops. And then I can see. That it's now showing the same time as the hand inside. Just before 1. But more to the point. Because it's a stout hand I can feel where it is. And around the edge of the watch are touch pins. So I can feel the time. In the dark. Discreetly. Under my robes. Under my garments. Now, how does it do that? You'll see inside. This mechanism here. And a little pull here. As you push the hand around. It will stop on the hand within. So why do I think this might be a good watch for a party? Well, it very much depends on the source party. It could well be one of those parties that are a little bit dry. You never know quite who you might find yourself speaking to. Maybe somebody who just goes on a bit too much about clocks and watches and things. And you might just feel the need to reach and feel the time discreetly. And know when to make a quick getaway. So, we've managed to get away from our conversation. And we've found a quiet corner at the party to have a game of chess. And obviously it's rather rude to be playing chess for too long at a party. So a clock like this might be used for a chess clock or a chess timer. Chess timers were invented in the late 19th century. And some of the first to be made were made by Faterini and Sons. In the north of England. This is probably their second model. And it's a beautifully simple thing. It is actually two clocks. And when you've finished your go. Simply turn the seesaw. And the opponent's clock will start ticking. And they'll have a think. They'll play their move. And when they're finished. They'll push their side out. And my clock will start ticking. And so on. It's a wonderfully elegant device. The base is in very heavy cast iron. To stop it all moving about too much. What we also notice on the dial. We have New Haven Clock Company written there. And it seems that the movement was actually imported from the USA. This clock was made at a time. Where the traditional English, British clock making. Was very much on the decline. And we were able to buy in movements. Very, very cheaply. From all the way across the Atlantic. And that's what we're seeing here. So. Turning our attention to the board. This game reminds me of one I played eight years ago. Anyway. Knight to E5. Not again. Okay. The host has invited their guests to leave. They got the hint. And they saw people sneaking off and playing chess. And it just so happens. The host themselves had a Breguet watch. And clock. Let us turn to the words of Abraham Louis Breguet himself. In a letter to his son. Dated 26th of June 1795. I have great pleasure my friend in telling you. That I have made a very important invention. But about which you must be very discreet. Even about the idea. I have invented a means of setting a watch to time. And regulating it without anyone having to do it. The most coarsely made watch. Provided it doesn't stop. Will serve its owner as if he had a guard tomp. This is how it works. You have to have a second clock. Or marine. Arranged to receive the watch. The cost of this addition. Is a day's work for a workman. And the same for the watch. Then every night on going to bed. You put the watch into the clock. In the morning. Or one hour later. It will be exactly to time with the clock. It is not even necessary to open the watch. There will be nothing visible externally. To show where it has been touched. I expect from this. The greatest promotion of our fame and fortune. Now this really tells us a lot about Breguet and his business. And his approach to things. He was a great innovator. A great horologist. But he was also a great showman. Particularly in his clocks. As we heard. A host of our partiers. Dragged himself up the stairs. And just before going to bed. He will take his watch. And put it in the top of this clock here. Go to bed. And when he wakes up in the morning. The watch will be set to the time of the clock. And it may also have been wound. And in some cases. May have been regulated. By the clock. There are about 12 of these. And they have slightly different permutations. Of these features. This is a particularly interesting example. It was first sold to the Tsar of Russia. In 1810. And it went out of circulation. But it reappears in the hands of de Soute. Who was Breguet's main agent in London. At the start of the 20th century. And he actually set about. Rebuilding this clock. You can see the finish isn't great. If you were to look at other examples. You'll see they're generally very fine indeed. And this is thought to have been damaged. In the Russian Revolution. When de Soute got the clock. He didn't have the watch at all. And began to remake a watch to fit the clock. None of it was ever quite finished. But had he finished. The watch would have been signed Breguet. And it would have been sold as a Breguet watch. Had it passed muster. Which it would have done in de Soute's hands. So the clock itself is incomplete. But what remains is very special. Because it has a constant force escapement. Which means that the controller. Gets a little push at every beat. And it's a way of having a very precise spring driven clock. But also. This clock has a tourbillon escapement. The whole escapement carries moves around. As the clock runs. Which is generally more useful in a watch. Which is moving about on your wrist. Because it negates positional error. Not so useful in a clock. But this is Breguet showboating. And indeed the whole deal here is showboating. He tells us in his letter. If you had a Gatons. One of his good watches. This would keep as good time as that. It's not necessarily better. You don't need this to have good time keeping in a watch. But it's something to show off. Something to say you've got. And it's an extremely impressive piece. So we have finally made it through our day. Let's look at one more object to finish off. Which could be used at any time of day. A beautiful portable instrument. In it's original wooden case. And this allows us. To find the time in a number of ways. It is French. On the reverse here. We have some text which says. Ligne de foi. French for line of faith or line of trust. It is otherwise unsigned. We don't know who made the instrument. So first of all. It is a sundial. We can find the time from the direction of the sun. It's path east to west in the sky. So we flip up the gnomon. The gnomon is angled for 49 degrees latitude. Which is about Paris. So that fits in with our French theme. So to use it as a sundial. We have a little compass here. And we need to orient it south. So we can catch the shadow and read the hours. The hour numeral is on the perimeter here. Now we can also use this instrument. To find the time directly from the moon. We use this volvelle in the middle here. And you'll notice in the aperture here. We can see the phases of the moon. And in this position. We've got a wonderful smiling happy face. Look for the moon. Then let's scale in from the hours here. Use the age of the moon. It's the equivalence of the phase of the moon. But expressed numerically. So we could set the volvelle. To whatever the current state of the moon is. Orient it north south. And use the shadow of the moon. On this inner set of hour numerals. And that will tell us the time. And of course this only really works. When the moon is bright enough. A few days either side of the full moon. If the moon is not bright enough. We've got another way of finding the time. And that's from the stars. The reverse of this instrument. Is what we call a nocturnal. To do that. The first thing we do. Is set the date. Using these guides here. And we will hold this instrument up. And find Polaris. Through the hole in the middle. There's a tiny hole in the middle. And when we've found Polaris. We'll move this pointer around. To the pointer stars. Of the Big Dipper Ursa Major. And then we can take the instrument down. And we can read the time. Off the hours here. And we can also feel the time. If you remember it's dark. It's not so easy to read. So the hours are each. Night versus the rated point. The 12 on the long pointer here. So we have a very useful instrument. Won't necessarily be the most precise instrument. Due to the size of it. But a lovely little thing. And there we have it. We've made it through our day. And I invite you to visit. The clocks and watches gallery. At the British Museum. They're rooms 38 and 39. And if you can't make it to the gallery. May I invite you to check out. Some of our past curators corners. On Horology. We explain how a clock works. We take a clock apart. And put it back together. We look at some night clocks. And we look at some curious clocks.