William Cribb

William Eardley Cribb was a maker of watches, chronometers and clocks of above-average quality.  His good reputation was especially justified by the excellent performance of his chronometers – such that, according to Mercer, he became a supplier to the Admiralty.  His was a business which could have grown and continued through successive generations, but, having had no children, it ceased with his death at the relatively early age of sixty*.

William had been born in London on Christmas Eve, 1814, and grew up at 58 Theobalds Road, Bloomsbury, between Chancery Lane and Russell Square.  From the early 1820s he lived and traded from premises on Southampton Row, successively at numbers 17, 30 and 146 – the latter nowadays being an Indian Restaurant.

Around 1853-55 Cribb developed his business by taking over that of Birchall & Appleton at 30 Southampton Row following Appleton’s death in September 1852.  The partners had consolidated their own good standing by acquiring in 1830 the business/premises of Robert Molyneux & Son – Molyneux having been especially notable for his work on auxiliary compensation for marine chronometers, as discussed in my article on James Eiffe.

The British Museum holds two examples of Cribb’s work.  One of these, with movement number 3715, circa-1860, features an escapement of the type known as Cole's Resilient – invented in 1830 by James Ferguson Cole.  This obviates the banking pins normally used to constrain movement of the lever by the utilisation of specific shaping of the escape wheel teeth and angularity of the pallets.

© Trustees of the British Museum

This is another of Cribb’s movements, number 3824, which is a free sprung chronometer, the quality of which appears first rate in this photograph, for which thanks are due to ‘radger’ who posts on the Watchuseek forum:

* I have seen a contention that Gibbs had a son named Arthur, but I have been unable to confirm this.  A person with this name is mentioned as an executor of William’s will, but he was an upholsterer born the same year (1814) – so was perhaps a cousin.  William’s estate amounted to ‘under £1,500,’ so his commercial success should probably be considered as having been moderate only.

George Margetts (1748-1804)

I wrote an extensive article last year on George Margetts. His life and work are intriguing – with technical/craft skills contradictions, biographical uncertainties, business vicissitudes, possible deceptions, but, nevertheless, endeavour across a range of horological and scientific disciplines.

Margetts’s output includes decorative, multi-function watches, Marine Chronometers, clocks and watches with astronomical functions, calculating instruments and published writing based on complex arithmetical calculations.

Here is an example of an extant verge:

© Trustees of the British Museum

Number	Date	Description	Notes
Unknown	c1778	Astronomical, gold-consular cased verge.  Diameter – 55.2mm.	The dial shows the positions of the sun and the moon in the zodiac throughout the year, the stars visible each night, the age of the moon and the times of high tide at various ports around Great Britain. The whole dial rotates clockwise once per day, together with the solar and lunar indicators, but over the course of a year both solar and lunar hands regress at different rates to show the position of the sun and moon in the zodiac. Effectively, the dial rotates once in a sidereal day - 23 hours, 56 minutes, 4 seconds - and the solar and lunar hands rotate once in a solar and lunar day.  In the collection of The British Museum

The article includes a table with details/illustrations of 27 extant horological pieces attributed to Margetts.

Margetts’s story involves innovation contrasting with the more mundane.  His ultimate potential seems to have been unfulfilled and I wonder if his lack of success stemmed from technical shortcomings, lack of commercial focus or a paucity of ability to present himself and his ideas effectively - for example in his dealings with the Board of Longitude.  But, whatever might have been possible, there can be no denying that his Astronomical Watches were very expertly designed, are nicely evocative of his period and remain aesthetically triumphant.

The Bracebridges

The Bracebridges were watchmakers active in the late eighteenth and throughout the nineteenth centuries.  Traditional horological reference resources – Britten’s , Baillie’s and Loomes – list three makers with this name, but I have identified five, in three generations.

The line begins with Edward.  Britten’s records working dates of 1799–1818, with the address, 8 Red Lion Street, Clerkenwell.  Baillie adds that Edward was in partnership with William Pleace.  There is little more than can be said about Edward.  The earliest possible reference to him is October 1766, when an Edward Bracebridge gave evidence in an Old Bailey trial concerning a larceny in Clerkenwell.  Given the locality and that the profession of a fellow witness, James Upjohn, is given as a watchmaker, it is likely that this is ‘our’ Bracebridge.  Certainly relevant is a Sun Life Insurance record from 1787 which refers to cover for the beer copper of one Alex. Ruff, ‘at Mr Bracebridge’s Watchmaker opp., the small pox hospital in Cold Bath Fields’, (an area close to the Mount Pleasant Royal Mail centre).  The Hospital was demolished and replaced by a prison which opened in 1794.  This institution, incidentally, represents a link to one of Edward’s sons in the early nineteenth century.

I believe Edward had two sons, James and Edward Charles.  James would have been born circa 1788-92 and died circa 1849.  This documentary reference to James is from the Sussex Advertiser, 27 March 1826:

Cornelius Muzzell’s Affairs: Notice is hereby Given, that Cornelius Muzzell, of Horsham, in the county of Sussex, Clock and Silversmith, hath, by indenture bearing date the 5^th day of November, 1825, assigned all his Estate and Effects to James Troup, of Cheapside, in the city of London, Silversmith; James Bracebridge of Red Lion Street, Clerkenwell, in the county of Middlesex, Watchmaker and Edward Walker, of Red Lion Street, Clerkenwell aforesaid, Ironmonger, in trust for themselves, and such other Creditors of the said Cornelius Muzzell, as shall, on or before the 5^th day of May next, agree to accept the Dividend or Composition arising under the trusts of the said Assignment, in full of their respective debts, - And further Notice is hereby given, that the said Deed of Assignment is left at our Office for the inspection and signature of the Creditors.  Sheppard, Thomas and Lepard.  Cloak Lane, London, 18^th March 1826.

Another reference is of much greater horological significance.  When Pierre-Frederick Ingold attempted to set up industrialised watch production in 1842 he encountered staunch opposition from London’s traditional watchmaking trade.  Rather than seeing Ingold’s British Watch & Clock Company as an important element in combating the insurgent Swiss and American industries, the Trade perceived it as a further threat and petitioned Parliament for legislation to deny Ingold’s right to raise capital for the new company.

James took a prominent part in a meeting of the Clockmakers, as reported in Lloyd’s Weekly Newspaper, 2 April 1843.  The previous Tuesday over 2,000 tradespeople met at the Crown and Anchor, “to take into consideration the best means to be adopted in reference to a bill now lying before Parliament to incorporate a new company calling themselves The British Watch & Clock-making Company . . “  He opened the meeting and seconded the resolution, which was to oppose the establishment of the proposed new company – this posture being maintained and Ingold’s initiative eventually defeated.

Edward Charles was born circa 1790, evidenced by a record of admission to St Paul’s School in 1800, his age being shown as ten.  At the age of twenty Edward Charles attained the Freedom of London, a privilege passed on to him by convention as a result of his father’s entitlement to the honour.

Edward Charles’s name appears on a list of jurors for a very significant London trial in 1820.  His suitability to sit on the jury was successfully challenged by the Crown and he therefore took no part in the proceedings.  However, this trial, (of the ‘Cato Street conspirators’), is of general interest as it resulted in the last instance of men found guilty of treason being subject to an execution in which they were hanged and beheaded, (a diminution of the ‘hanged, drawn and quartered’ punishment which had originated in the reign of Henry III).  They had been confined in the Cold Bath prison mentioned above in connection with Edward.

That Edward Charles – in partnership with brother James - was occupying the familiar Red Lion Street premises is confirmed by an entry in the 1825 issue of Pigot’s Directory.  That he was prospering is perhaps suggested by his having his – and his wife, Philippa’s – portrait painted in 1839 by John Samuel Agar, an artist of moderate repute and for a time President of the Society of Engravers.

The business, styled as Edward Charles Bracebridge & Co is evident in various directories with the dates 1851-81.  The primary address remained 8 Red Lion Street, in 1862 a shop was trading at 119 New Bond Street, managed by Charles Roe.  The family residence was 6 Barnsbury Villas, Liverpool Road, Islington.

Edward Charles and Philippa had two sons, James (James II), circa 1823-92, and Edward Gilbert, 1822-99.  James II proved to be the more high profile outside the family business itself – he served as Treasurer to the Watch and Clockmakers Benevolent Institute and was this body’s representative at the funeral of Charles Frodsham in 1871.

James himself eventually found his health failing and in the 1 August 1891 issue of The Watchmaker, Jeweller and Silversmith it was reported:

. . . Mr. James Bracebridge is retiring from the business which he has carried on for many years as watch manufacturer in Clerkenwell, under the style of E. C. Bracebridge and Co.  Mr. Bracebridge has appointed his nephew, Mr. F. Bracebridge Mills, to settle his affairs. There is, we believe, some likelihood that Mr. T. D. Wright, who for many years has held the post of manager to Mr. Bracebridge, will continue the business, and in this event there is no doubt that the reputation the firm has long enjoyed will be fully maintained in Mr. Wright's hands.

Edward Gilbert’s role in the business is not clear.  One of the few references to him is a record of a donation of £10.10s. to the North London Consumption Hospital in 1896, so one might conclude that he, or a close family member suffered with this condition which was all too prevalent in late nineteenth century London.

Thomas Wright formed a partnership with William Craighead to carry on the business at Red Lion Street from 1891.  Wright became very well known in wider horological circles and it was his proposal for the format of British Summer Time clocks adjustment that we use to this day.

I have traced eleven extant Bracebridge watches.  Attribution to specific members of the family is difficult because of some missing movement numbers, some re-cases and un hallmarked cases.  At least three sets of 4 digit movement numbers seem to have been used, with an apparently relatively consistent range between 1823 - #5882 and 1850 - #8935.  A five digit #38931 is dated to 1865 and another, #12741, is in a silver case hallmarked for 1892.

Perhaps the most attractive is #5882, a repeater in 18ct Gold Case made by Louis Comtesse:

Courtesy of Matthew Barton Ltd

The British Museum holds a Bracebridge movement.  Circa1865, this features a Savage-two-pin lever escapement and utilises a keyless winding mechanism:

© Trustees of the British Museum

Updated - Decimal Time - The Statters

This is an updated version of the article I posted here on 26 June 2016.  The update features photographs of the Statters' watch – No 1 – which have kindly been made available to me by Sir George White Bt., F.S.A., Keeper, The Clockmakers' Museum at The Science Museum.

Richard Dover Statter was born in 1825 in Liverpool.  His father, Edward, was a physician and Richard followed in his footsteps, noted on the 1861 Census as a General Practitioner and Member of the College of Surgeons of England.  He is not, however, remembered for any medical advances, but for a 38 page pamphlet promoting the concept of decimalisation.  This was complemented by a ‘decimal’ watch made by his brother, Thomas. 

Richard’s approach to decimalisation was in keeping with today’s medical outlook in that it was holistic, as can be gathered from the pamphlet’s title: The Decimal System as a Whole, in its relation to Time, Measure, Weight, Capacity and Money, in Unison with each other. 

An attempt to introduce decimalised timekeeping had been made in the wake of the French Revolution.  A revised, ‘Republican Calendar’, in which there were twelve 30 day months, with each month divided by 3 decades, (replacing ‘weeks’), lasted from 1793 to 1805.  The related daily timekeeping model, with each day divided into 10 parts, these parts divided by one hundred, (a decimal minute) and each ‘minute’ by one hundred, (a decimal second), lasted only from 24 November 1793 to 7 April 1795.

 

The British Museum holds nine examples of decimal pocket watches made in France/Switzerland during the Revolutionary era.  The dials of eight of these are shown in the collage below:

© Trustees of the British Museum

 

Whilst the new physical units of measure – metre – litre – gram – became established, the proposed new time metrics did not, primarily because: 

 

·         It would have a cost a great deal to replace all existing clocks and watches

 

·         There was ‘comfort’ for the ordinary person in the old, familiar model and confusion is assimilating the new, especially when so much change was taking place over such a short period of time

 

·         There was no ‘natural’ or commercially logical motivation for people to voluntarily adopt the new model – enforcing its uptake would have required a ‘policing’ approach 

 

However, some half a century later, Statter’s pamphlet sought to resurrect the idea of decimal time and is especially interesting when considered in relation to his brother’s watch.  Thomas is recorded as a watchmaker in the 1861 Census – aged 22, he was still living at home with his mother and father.  The case of his decimal watch is hallmarked for 1862 and is now in the Clockmakers Museum within the Science Museum, London.  

The watch movement/cuvette bears two inscriptions:  

Richd. Dover Statter & Thos. Statter, Liverpool No.1  

The true basis of a universal Decimal system 

 

Courtesy of Sir George White Bt 

 

An alternative dial design – drawn seven years in advance of production of the watch – shown below is reproduced in the Pamphlet:

 

 

 

It would seem to be a remarkable piece given its two register functionality and elegance relative to the youthfulness of its maker, (aged just 23).  No other examples – of this decimal timepiece or indeed any other watches signed by him – of Thomas’s work are known to exist, partly accounted for no doubt by his short life – he was dead only 3 years later.  It would also be logical to view this as a prototype – perhaps ‘No. 1’ is the actual movement number.

 

After the Statters’ time, late in the nineteenth century, the ever-increasing influence of railways and the advent of the electric telegraph gave rise to renewed consideration of decimal time, since it could provide a model for a new global time standard.  Although no practical initiative emerged then, a similar communications revolution occurred as the twentieth century closed, with the establishment and rapid development of the Internet.  Stemming from this, 1998 saw the introduction of Swatch Internet Time, (also known as ‘beat time’).  The objective was to provide a common global time for people communicating over the Internet, from/to anywhere in the world, without the complication of any geographically-related ‘time zones’.  It divides the day into 1000 beats, midday occurring at 500 beats, (@500).  A beat is therefore equal to 1.44 minutes.  A dual function Swatch is shown below:

 

Courtesy Getty Images

 

And, coming right up to date, Chanson David Watches - http://www.chansondavid.com  - are currently offering a range of watches – called the Comparative - which indicate conventional and decimal time on a single analogue dial layout, where, as illustrated below, the hour hand (green tipped) points to the decimal value, against the outer scale.  This divides the average calendar day into 2 x 10 units is in accordance with the International System of Units (SI).  The conventional time showing in this illustration is 10 hrs 8 mins 24 seconds:

 

 

Courtesy of Chanson David

Small is Beautiful

‘Clocks’ Magazine in its April 2016 issue has published the first part of my article on Alexander Watkins.  Watkins was making fine chronometers in the mid-nineteenth century, trading from a prestigious London address: 67 Strand. 

For students of horology, Watkins is best known for his ‘miniaturised’ chronometer made for the 1851 Great Exhibition.  With its unusually small movement and gold, delicately ornamented case, it is a very fine aesthetic and technical achievement.  However, as I often find, there’s as much interest in a watchmaker’s personal story and the social/commercial setting in which he worked as in his design and manufacturing activities. 

So my article, whilst detailing some of Watkins’s watches and movements and his ideas for simpler watches to combat the influx of Swiss timepieces, also explores the circumstances of an attempted murder and the very marked divide in Victorian society between an affluent family and an ‘ordinary’ one.

 

1851 Great Exhibition gold chronometer

Courtesy of Sotheby’s

 
Watkins left a legacy of innovation and quality of work confirmed by the examples held in the collections of The British Museum and The Worshipful Company of Clockmakers.

Function or Fashion?

The original draft of my article on John Grant of Fleet Street, published in the February 2016 issue of Clocks Magazine, included some extensive narrative about and depiction of Benjamin Webb’s Patent Polar Watches.  During the editing process a good deal of this was removed, mainly because of some difficulties experienced with the copyright holders for the images I had intended to use for illustrative purposes.  Subsequently the issue has been resolved – not just in regard to the specific material, but as a broad principle.  As a matter of policy, the Museum of the History of Science, Oxford has now decided to allow images available on its website to be freely downloadable for use by academic publications with a low print-run.

John Grant’s business was distinguished by an innovative approach both to manufacturing and retailing.  This latter aspect was well evidenced by the offering of Webb’s Polar Watches.  These dual-purpose instruments are certainly interesting in their own right.  They are an example of a favourite ‘branch’ of watchmaking of mine: multi-functionality – a trend that emerged in the late 18^th/early 19^th centuries, including Coach Watches – with four or five time metrics – Chronographs, and such as the Watch-Pedometers of Ralph Gout and Polar Watches of Benjamin Webb. 

I’d like to reproduce here the ‘look’ of the Polar Watches and the related promotional material as I believe it represents the period extremely well:

The Times 9-10-1799

 

 

© Museum of the History of Science, University of Oxford

 

Sotheby’s offered a Polar Watch, #81, at their sale, ‘Important Watches, Clocks and Automata’, 20 October 2009, New York, with an estimate of $5,000-$7,000:

 

Courtesy of Sotheby’s

 

This is #146, sold by Sotheby’s in 2002 for £1,292:

 

 

Courtesy of Sotheby’s

#45 can be seen on the Antiquorum website.  It is very similar to #81. 
 

#123 – movement only, is held at The British Museum and further examples are in the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers’ collection, (#129) and York Castle Museum.  According to Paul Tuck, in his ‘Horology Under the Hammer’, Antiquarian Horology, Vol 21, #2, 1993, the Polar Watch featured a Duplex escapement. 
 

Although Webb liked to feature, ‘The King’s Patent’, prominently, it was not his own.  The reference is to Patent #2280, December 1798, in the name of John Randall Peckham of Bermondsey.

 

Webb was amongst the Makers quoted in a 1798 Parliamentary Report on the petitions for repeal of the Duties on Clocks and Watches Act 1797.  Webb summarized his loss of business with the following data:

 

	1796	1797	1798	Decrease from 1st July to 31st December:
From January 1st to June 30th	1,220	1,088
July 1st to December 31st	1,990	565
Total	2,410	1,653		625
In the last Four Months				Decrease in:
November	231	123		November  108
December	126	53		December    73
January	101	125	47	January       78
February	249	267	6	February    261   Total         520

Webb stated that he had been in business for 27 years and had never before seen such a sudden fluctuation in business volume.  He added that it had become very common to substitute silver/base metal for gold in the making of cases.

 

Evidence from John Grant was also heard in regard to the Act. 
 

The Polar Watches are usually ascribed to the dates, circa 1800-05, and evidence of Webb’s subsequent prosperity is lacking.  The British Museum notes him as active up to 1811.  Although the trading title, Benjamin Webb & Son was in use at the time of the marketing of the Polar Watches, little is known about his offspring, James.  Baillie lists him: London (St John’s Sq) 1799.  There is also a Robert with St John’s Sq given as location, and dates 1815-25.

 

Although the Polar Watch concept and its marketability were unproven, just in case it was about to become highly sought after, the commercially vigilant Swiss were not slow to create similar – though less elegant – similar instruments, this for example:

 

Courtesy Cogs & Pieces 

 

The theoretical ‘need’ for Webb’s creation was probably not sustained by practical experience.  The carrying of a compass would not have been especially onerous for a mariner or explorer, used to working with one in any event.  Equally, a relatively small compass housed in tandem with a timepiece would be unlikely to offer the accuracy/stability of a stand-alone instrument.  No doubt there was an initial talking-point value whereby the flourishing of his Polar Watch emphasised the trendiness of a young Gentleman about Town.  However, as the new century got into its stride the underlying quality and elegance of form implied by the term ‘Chronometer’ probably soon attracted the fashion-conscious watch buyer’s attention, at the expense of a ‘novelty’ such as Webb’s.