The precision of timekeeping: 19th-Century clocks in the Royal Collections

Clocks have long been regarded as a symbol of power. Owning one of these delicate timepieces, housed in cases of marble, bronze (either gilded or patinated), fine woods, porcelain, or glass, was a privilege reserved for the elite. Wealthy collectors who wished to acquire such a clock were required to pay a considerable sum. In addition to the cost of the movement, those who desired a bespoke case had to remunerate the designer who devised the design, the modeller who realised it in clay to assess its final effect, and the craftsman entrusted with executing the case—whether bronzier, cabinetmaker or silversmith—together with the enameller who painted the dial, the gilder, and other artisans involved in its production.
The economic rise of the affluent bourgeoisie, combined with the demand for more affordable pieces, fostered the development of mass production. A model was no longer exclusive to a single owner; it could be reproduced, sometimes in different materials. Printed illustrations of clock cases were spread through workshops and shops, which over time evolved into albums and catalogues. 
Another important avenue for the dissemination of clock models was at the World’s Fairs, which served as showcases where craftsmen and manufacturers presented technical innovations and aesthetic developments. These exhibitions attracted an audience keen to discover emerging home décor trends and the latest technological and artistic innovations of modern society.   

The 19th century was a dynamic period in which a succession of aesthetic styles emerged at a rapid pace, some more successful than others. In its early years, the Neoclassical movement, inspired by Ancient Greece and Rome, continued. Archaeological discoveries influenced the themes depicted on clock cases, which were generally made in gilded and patinated bronze. Gods, muses, philosophers, heroes, and allegories were prominently depicted. 
This was followed by a Romantic aesthetic, which spread throughout Europe. Clock cases returned to Baroque forms, with popular motifs including lyres, arcades, scenes of everyday life, Oriental exoticism, and Gothic buildings. Polychromed porcelain and cut glass, both transparent and coloured, were incorporated into the cases, while wood and marble were once again employed. 
The Second Empire began in France during the final years of the reign of Louis Philippe, reached its height during the period of Napoleon III (1852–1870), and lasted until the end of the 19th century. It was an eclectic movement in which austere cases with straight profiles, made primarily in white or black marble, coexisted with cases that emulated 18th-century artistic styles, particularly Louis XIV and Louis XVI. In these latter examples, rocaille, lush vegetation, and exaggerated, ornate curves were revived. Once again, gilded bronze became the dominant material in the case.

Isabella II continued to acquire clocks produced in England, France, and Spain. During her reign, several leading clockmakers furthered the study and manufacture of precision instruments and mechanisms, and introduced innovations in timekeeping. 
One notable figure was Santiago James Moore French, an Irish-born clockmaker and chronometrist, who maintained a shop-workshop first at 15 Sweetings Alley in London and later on Regent Street. He established strong commercial ties with the Spanish court, as evidenced by the dozen clocks—longcase, table, and wall clocks, some incorporating barometers, as well as chronometers—that are still preserved in the Royal Collections. 
In France, the Brocot family—Louis-Gabriel and his sons Antoine-Gabriel and Louis-Achille—completely transformed the concept of clockmaking. They refined suspension mechanisms, developed visible and deadbeat escapements, perpetual calendars and the striking train.  As for the case, they created a simple model in white or black marble, rectangular in profile, with straight edges and moulded decoration. On the white enamel dial, in addition to the visible escapement, they conceived hands ending in trefoils. In 1851, Louis-Achille entered into partnership with Jean-Baptiste Delettrez, clockmaker and astute merchant who expanded his production across Europe. 
At the 1855 World’s Fair, they showcased a striking clock with a perpetual calendar—displaying hours, minutes, seconds, calendar, equation of time, and moon phases—which won widespread admiration and was awarded with the first-class medal. These clocks were often paired with a barometer and one or two thermometers.
José Hoffmeyer Jiménez was appointed Royal Clockmaker to the Queen in 1849. He opened a shop at Calle de Alcalá in Madrid and served as Spanish representative of the French house. He produced his own movements and imported others from Geneva. He adapted the clocks installed in towers and other buildings throughout Madrid to the mean time system, that is, ensuring the consistent regulation of the mean solar day.

In the 19th century, the table clock with garniture became a popular feature in salon interiors. It comprised an integrated ensemble, usually of two candelabra or two vases, whose materials and design corresponded to those of the clock case. The garniture was typically placed on the mantelpiece, often before a mirror, allowing the rear side of the clock to be viewed. It could also be displayed on sideboards, chests of drawers, or salon tables, serving a purely ornamental function. Catalogues offering a variety of affordable models for an extensive clientele became increasingly widespread.  

The movement most commonly used in these clocks is known as the “Paris type”. It consists of a mechanism enclosed within a cage formed by two plates or two gilded metal sheets—generally of brass—of circular shape, separated by pillars. The mainspring, a tensioned metal spring, is housed within a barrel and transmits power to a series of interlocking wheels of progressively decreasing size. The last and smallest wheel, the escape wheel, drives the oscillation of an anchor-shaped piece, which, connected to the pendulum, maintains a steady rhythm and regulates the motion of the clock hands. 
The striking train, which typically chimes the hours and half-hours, relies mainly on a count-wheel. Its outer edge is divided into twelve notches or grooves of unequal spacing. A lever rests on the wheel’s edge; when the striking train is engaged, the wheel rotates, and the lever falls into a notch, stopping the strike as a hammer sounds the bell.

Since ancient times, navigation has faced two principal challenges: determining the ship’s course and its position at sea—that is, calculating its geographic coordinates, latitude and longitude. Until well into the 18th century, sea voyages were hazardous for lack of precise instruments. 
Scientific research culminated in the creation of a high-precision timepiece—a marine chronometer—which did not employ the pendulum typically found in domestic clocks, as this was unsuitable aboard ship due to the vessel’s motion and variations in gravity at different latitudes. It was designed to withstand violent, irregular movements and extreme meteorological conditions, including temperature, humidity, and atmospheric pressure. These chronometers were required to maintain a uniform rate and accurate time, referenced either to the port of departure or a standard meridian, in order to prevent navigational errors arising from drift.  
English clockmakers and chronometrists achieved most of the key technological innovations between 1815 and 1820.  These were compact instruments, often equipped with gimbal suspension, with a 24- or 56-hour power reserve, and protected by a convex, domed glass over the dial. From 1840 onwards, marine chronometers became larger, were fitted with flat glass, and had an eight-day power reserve.