The client of the American clock I repaired a few months ago called to say that his clock still did not strike the hours consistently and correctly. I had poo-pooed his feedback the first time (in private to my wife) saying that this client just did not understand how to adjust the clock to winter time and that therefore he must have put the hands backwards when winter time was introduced in October and now the hour hand was out of sync with the countwheel.
To prove my point I took the clock back (it was still under warranty), hung it in my workshop and noticed how it struck the hours beautifully and consistently but always one strike more than the hour. Hence, I told myself, this was a simple case of lifting the locking detent 11 times so the clock could strike the hours 11 times quickly to end up in the correct position so it would strike the next hour correctly.
I did exactly as planned, noticed that the striking was again in sync and returned the clock to the client triumphantly with a little note how to adjust the hands at the time of a summer time-winter time switch-over and vice versa. All for free, of course, under the warranty.
Was it irritation or surprise that I felt most when a week later I ran into the client who said the striking was still off. I asked whether the clock was hanging skewed on the wall for want of a better question. The client, though, suggested I had another good look at his clock. I was indeed keen to examine the clock because I began to realise that more was at work here than a client who did not know what to do when winter time came along.
So, I opened the case and took a proper look at the countwheel and noticed that the countwheel had two sets of 1 to 12 divisions rather than one! Examining both sets closely, I noticed that the second set showed the number 2 strike area slightly bent toward the number 3 area which meant that the locking detent did not fall into the number 2 hole. That resulted in five strokes at 2 o'clock! So, I bent the number 2 area straight. Now the clock strikes the hours perfectly on both sets of 1 to 12 on the count wheel.
I am hanging on to the clock a little longer in my test room just to check the correct number of hours is being struck. I do not want to hear the client tell me for the third time the clock does not strike properly! My arrogance had clearly blinded me to examine my own work a bit more closely before drawing conclusions. At least, I now am on alert when a two set countwheel lands on my work bench!
Monday, 13 December 2010
Comtoise clock - My family member
It is only when my favourite client called that I realised how closely connected we remain to what we have repaired. It feels as if all the clocks that have passed through my hands are part of my family. This client is a favourite of mine for a variety of reasons. He is erudite and speaks such beautiful English. That certainly endears him to me, or is it me to him?
His clock was the first mechanical clock I repaired for a client in my career which must create a special bond. The client proved elated with the report I produced when I brought the clock back. He showed it to his wife and friends. I know this, because I was there hanging the clock back in its case when this all happened. It made me feel particularly important when he introduced me to his friend as "my friend the professional clockmaker".
The clock in question happened to be a Comtoise. The client told me how he had purchased the clock in an antique shop in France and how the owner of the shop had told him the story of how Comtoise clocks were produced and sold by itinerant salesmen who carried a frame on their back into which several Comtoise clocks would fit. They would walk to the next village and start selling them. The pendulums would be folded on their back. Hence we still see Comtoise clocks with pendulums that fold into several pieces of about 20cm each. Once a clock would be sold, the wandering salesman would walk with the client to the nearest blacksmith to get the weights made then and there. It being impossible, of course, to take the weights for nine clocks or so along on your back.
I had never touched a Comtoise clock but had heard my co-students on the clock course at West Dean College talk with respect about these French clocks. I was amazed how different they were from the inside from the clocks I had been working on until then. I began to love the Comtoise design and its well established "tick" and loud bell. We became good friends: the clock, the client and I.
I give a 6 months guarantee on my work and it was therefore with mixed feelings that I heard my Comtoise client ring on Saturday morning clearly with pain in his voice. Would his wife have died? Not so. His clock has stopped and could I come please to have a look? The warranty period had elapsed but still it hurts your pride to have a client tell you that a clock you worked on has come to a halt. I spent the rest of the weekend thinking about the clock. What can it be that stopped it? I had thoroughly checked everything and then tested it for two weeks before handing it back?
He called me again this morning saying he noticed how the minute hand had become entangled with the calendar hand and how he had managed to disentangle them. The clock was working fine again and I did not need to come.
End good, all good. It would have been nice, though, to see the clock again.
His clock was the first mechanical clock I repaired for a client in my career which must create a special bond. The client proved elated with the report I produced when I brought the clock back. He showed it to his wife and friends. I know this, because I was there hanging the clock back in its case when this all happened. It made me feel particularly important when he introduced me to his friend as "my friend the professional clockmaker".
The clock in question happened to be a Comtoise. The client told me how he had purchased the clock in an antique shop in France and how the owner of the shop had told him the story of how Comtoise clocks were produced and sold by itinerant salesmen who carried a frame on their back into which several Comtoise clocks would fit. They would walk to the next village and start selling them. The pendulums would be folded on their back. Hence we still see Comtoise clocks with pendulums that fold into several pieces of about 20cm each. Once a clock would be sold, the wandering salesman would walk with the client to the nearest blacksmith to get the weights made then and there. It being impossible, of course, to take the weights for nine clocks or so along on your back.
 |
| Comtoise (or also called Morbier) clock |
I had never touched a Comtoise clock but had heard my co-students on the clock course at West Dean College talk with respect about these French clocks. I was amazed how different they were from the inside from the clocks I had been working on until then. I began to love the Comtoise design and its well established "tick" and loud bell. We became good friends: the clock, the client and I.
I give a 6 months guarantee on my work and it was therefore with mixed feelings that I heard my Comtoise client ring on Saturday morning clearly with pain in his voice. Would his wife have died? Not so. His clock has stopped and could I come please to have a look? The warranty period had elapsed but still it hurts your pride to have a client tell you that a clock you worked on has come to a halt. I spent the rest of the weekend thinking about the clock. What can it be that stopped it? I had thoroughly checked everything and then tested it for two weeks before handing it back?
He called me again this morning saying he noticed how the minute hand had become entangled with the calendar hand and how he had managed to disentangle them. The clock was working fine again and I did not need to come.
End good, all good. It would have been nice, though, to see the clock again.
Friday, 5 November 2010
Striking tips
I learned two things today.
I must show my clients in my written reports, which they get when I give them their repaired clocks back, how to set the time. Time setting on clocks can differ greatly between clocks. On some clocks you can happily (though gently please) push the minute hand past the half hour or hour—whichever comes first—without bending or breaking anything in the clock. On other clocks you can't. You will have to wait until the clock completes any striking before pushing the minute hand further.
On top of that, it turns out that some clients get into trouble during the switchover to winter time. For instance, on count wheel striking clocks, they push the hands backwards an hour and then discover that the hands are no longer in sync with the striking.
From now on, therefore, I would do well to add an Appendix to my reports explaining to the client how to set the time on their particular clock. This should help prevent getting clocks returned to me that are perfectly fine but for the striking being an hour ahead.
The second thing I learned today is that when you have put a complicated clock together and you notice that the bell hammer—in rest position—is not sitting perfectly between two pins on the pinwheel, then there may be a more efficient way of resolving this than taking the clock plates apart to adjust the pin wheel. I noticed that I could take the gathering pallet off the gathering pallet arbor, and
I must show my clients in my written reports, which they get when I give them their repaired clocks back, how to set the time. Time setting on clocks can differ greatly between clocks. On some clocks you can happily (though gently please) push the minute hand past the half hour or hour—whichever comes first—without bending or breaking anything in the clock. On other clocks you can't. You will have to wait until the clock completes any striking before pushing the minute hand further.
On top of that, it turns out that some clients get into trouble during the switchover to winter time. For instance, on count wheel striking clocks, they push the hands backwards an hour and then discover that the hands are no longer in sync with the striking.
From now on, therefore, I would do well to add an Appendix to my reports explaining to the client how to set the time on their particular clock. This should help prevent getting clocks returned to me that are perfectly fine but for the striking being an hour ahead.
The second thing I learned today is that when you have put a complicated clock together and you notice that the bell hammer—in rest position—is not sitting perfectly between two pins on the pinwheel, then there may be a more efficient way of resolving this than taking the clock plates apart to adjust the pin wheel. I noticed that I could take the gathering pallet off the gathering pallet arbor, and
- then put the pinwheel in the right position vis-à-vis the bell hammer, so that the bell hammer is exactly in the middle between two pins when the striking train is at rest position, while also ensuring that the warning pin on the warning wheel is in its stop position, and
- then put the gathering pallet back on its arbor also in rest or stop position.
That solved the problem nicely and efficiently in about one minute and with a lot less risk to any damage to the clock compared with taking plates apart and moving the pinwheel a few teeth.
Monday, 4 October 2010
The difficulty of saying goodbye to a good friend
Having had a longcase clock in for about 6 months right next to my work bench and hearing its tick-tock and its bell, seeing the shining beauty of its dial, hearing the rack fall... I notice how it has become a good friend. Oh, how difficult it is to say goodbye to it and bring it back to the customer. After I had managed to iron out all faults that the clock had when it was brought into my workshop and after I had made a new gathering pallet, strengthened the beautiful---but wobbly---rack arm, made a calendar wheel and calendar disk with flag, silvered the disk and then tested the clock for a month, it is a bit like saying goodbye to a child you have just delivered for the first time to a tiny cubbyhole of a room at university. It is one of those moments when the world feels like a tough place to live in.
Yet pride seems to overcome any feeling of sorrow. Pride, often amplified by the emotions shown by the customer when they welcome their clock back and see it running and striking again. In these moments, clients sometimes tell me the most amazing stories of how they grew up with this clock. Smells and sounds seem to come back to their memory which trigger further stories, often full of emotions and the odd tear. I feel privileged to have these moments with my clients and feel humbled to become part of the story of their clock as their "clockmaker". It feels I have done only very little, but it certainly is the beginning of a good day for me.
I wave goodbye to my friend the provincial longcase clock and close the client's front door behind me.
I hope I can remember these client stories to tell them one day to my grandchildren so these stories live on and so will illustrate the importance of people telling each other stories. I can now see how important it is to conserve heirlooms in order to be able to tell these stories and I can see how important it is that we keep the profession of clockmaker a healthy one, despite all the economic difficulties.
My phone rings. A distressed elderly woman tells me that her clock has now completely stopped working after she tried to shake it back into action. A new story is beginning to unfold.
Yet pride seems to overcome any feeling of sorrow. Pride, often amplified by the emotions shown by the customer when they welcome their clock back and see it running and striking again. In these moments, clients sometimes tell me the most amazing stories of how they grew up with this clock. Smells and sounds seem to come back to their memory which trigger further stories, often full of emotions and the odd tear. I feel privileged to have these moments with my clients and feel humbled to become part of the story of their clock as their "clockmaker". It feels I have done only very little, but it certainly is the beginning of a good day for me.
I wave goodbye to my friend the provincial longcase clock and close the client's front door behind me.
I hope I can remember these client stories to tell them one day to my grandchildren so these stories live on and so will illustrate the importance of people telling each other stories. I can now see how important it is to conserve heirlooms in order to be able to tell these stories and I can see how important it is that we keep the profession of clockmaker a healthy one, despite all the economic difficulties.
My phone rings. A distressed elderly woman tells me that her clock has now completely stopped working after she tried to shake it back into action. A new story is beginning to unfold.
Thursday, 19 August 2010
The clock is ticking
The clock is ticking and the bell is ringing the hours every hour. What great feeling to have come this far. The Michael Hall School turret clock from 1736 runs again. Its bell can be heard on the school grounds and hopefully will not interfere with life at school and the sleep of the staff living nearby, almost directly under the clock. The clock has become a dear friend who needs to be looked after. Although it has not run in 30 years, it seems to enjoy running again. There are areas of concern, though. Wear and tear on some parts needs close monitoring. I also need to train staff to wind it.
Tuesday, 17 August 2010
Six lessons learned while working on my first American clock
Why is working on new things usually ending in drama? My first American clock is no exception. It started with a client pressing me to deliver the repair before a certain date. While this is entirely reasonable in most business dealings, pressing a clockmaker to repair a clock before a certain date is a recipe for disaster for all parties involved. I politely informed the client of this clockmaker law but the damage had already been done. I had never worked with barrel-less, loop-end springs before and so a strenuous fight ensued whereby I tried to get the unwound springs into the clock frame without pushing away all other wheels. I did not know you need a special clamp on loop-end springs before you can reassemble the clock.
I arrived at this conclusion, proudly though, after many hours of eliminating other options. I felt chuffed to receive confirmation of my conclusion from experts responding to my cry for help via the British Horological Institute's members' database. My former West Dean College tutor also made clear in an email that I needed a clamp and would do well to make one myself from an 1/8" thick brass plate shaped liked an oversized divot fork. This was my first lesson learned from the American clock. A bit of "how to deal with loop-end springs" research got me really user friendly clamps from R&N Horological. They are cheap, simple to put on and, importantly, simple to take off the spring once the great wheel arbor is safely installed in a fully assembled clock.
The second lesson was that rebushing (and yes there seemed a great need for it judging by the enormous movement most of the arbors on both trains were allowed to make) is discouraged. I approached my West Dean tutor who kindly suggested that the frame of these American clocks is so wobbly that creating a well fitting bush will lock up the arbor and possibly even bend a pivot because the frame is bending under the force of the springs and so prevents a well fitting bush from offering sufficient room for a pivot to turn. The best advice is to accept the enormous room to manoeuvre in the existing bushes and drown it in oil.
Then I discovered that these clock movements can be bought new for about £60. So you wonder why am I repairing a clock while I can put a new one in for £60? The argument that there is emotional value in the clock always holds, but if a client sees a repair bill for many times the cost of a new movement you wonder if how long that argument will hold. Let's call this the third lesson learned.
While fiddling with the going spring to get it back in its place, I heard a loud crack and noticed (after a while) that the hole at the end of the spring that grips the great wheel arbor stud had split and now looked like the end of snake's tong. There was no way that the arbor stud was going to grab that spring end ever again. I cut off the end of the spring and created a new triangularly shaped hole for the stud to grip and had to do this twice, unfortunately, to get the right shaped hole. In the process, so much of the spring end was lost that what remained could not be convinced to engage with the great wheel arbor stud. So I decided to force it to engage which led to a further tear in the spring end. I admit that I annealed the spring end in order to create the triangular shaped hole. All according to the instructions of my West Dean notebook. But because the end of a spring after annealing is softer, it tears more easily, I suppose. Well, that is what happened and at this stage the spring was a write-off. There was no inner core left to grip. Cousins came to the rescue and will send me the new American spring American Ansonia 19 x .45 x 2500 x Ø47 (ANS19) x 1 @ £10.25 each. I feel this is not something I can charge the client for, despite the fact that I feel the spring was at its life end.
I learned my fourth lesson during reassembly of the movement. I struggled with the question "do you get the three wiry springs of the bell hammer, lifting piece and locking detent all in their place before or after putting the front plate on?" I found out (lesson four) that you must put the bell hammer spring in position before, and the other two springs after, you put the front plate on the pillars.
As my fifth lesson, I learned that the movement has a passing strike on the half hours. A cam on the centre arbor directly launches the bell hammer at 30 minutes past the hour. It also triggers the lifting piece on the whole hours. Interesting, I have not seen many of these passing strikes mechanisms yet.
My sixth lesson was that I observed that the countwheel, which sits on the striking train's great wheel, has two series of slots from 1 to 12. One series, of course, would be enough. I gather the reason for the two series of 1 to12 slots is to allow the great wheel to turn round in 24 rather than 12 hours. This allows to run the clock longer, as the great wheel can now turn half as fast compared to if there was only one series of 1 to 12 slots.
In the meantime, I am studying how to put the new going mainspring into the clock once it arrives! By logically deducing everything that is related to the main spring I can only conclude that we will have to wind the going train of the clock counter clockwise while the striking train will be wound clock wise. I have never seen such a thing and cannot believe my conclusion! A quick search on Google, though, on the words winding of American clocks opposite direction confirms my conclusion as correct. Why hasn't any clockmaker told me this? Somebody could have rung me and kindly explained that this is quite typical with American clocks.
I am now anxiously waiting for the postman who always so kindly says "sorry to disturb you" when I open the door in my TerKuileClocks apron, with my loop clipped to my clock glasses and my hands protruding in surgical gloves ready to receive the mail.
 |
| loop-end springs in American clock |
The second lesson was that rebushing (and yes there seemed a great need for it judging by the enormous movement most of the arbors on both trains were allowed to make) is discouraged. I approached my West Dean tutor who kindly suggested that the frame of these American clocks is so wobbly that creating a well fitting bush will lock up the arbor and possibly even bend a pivot because the frame is bending under the force of the springs and so prevents a well fitting bush from offering sufficient room for a pivot to turn. The best advice is to accept the enormous room to manoeuvre in the existing bushes and drown it in oil.
Then I discovered that these clock movements can be bought new for about £60. So you wonder why am I repairing a clock while I can put a new one in for £60? The argument that there is emotional value in the clock always holds, but if a client sees a repair bill for many times the cost of a new movement you wonder if how long that argument will hold. Let's call this the third lesson learned.
While fiddling with the going spring to get it back in its place, I heard a loud crack and noticed (after a while) that the hole at the end of the spring that grips the great wheel arbor stud had split and now looked like the end of snake's tong. There was no way that the arbor stud was going to grab that spring end ever again. I cut off the end of the spring and created a new triangularly shaped hole for the stud to grip and had to do this twice, unfortunately, to get the right shaped hole. In the process, so much of the spring end was lost that what remained could not be convinced to engage with the great wheel arbor stud. So I decided to force it to engage which led to a further tear in the spring end. I admit that I annealed the spring end in order to create the triangular shaped hole. All according to the instructions of my West Dean notebook. But because the end of a spring after annealing is softer, it tears more easily, I suppose. Well, that is what happened and at this stage the spring was a write-off. There was no inner core left to grip. Cousins came to the rescue and will send me the new American spring American Ansonia 19 x .45 x 2500 x Ø47 (ANS19) x 1 @ £10.25 each. I feel this is not something I can charge the client for, despite the fact that I feel the spring was at its life end.
I learned my fourth lesson during reassembly of the movement. I struggled with the question "do you get the three wiry springs of the bell hammer, lifting piece and locking detent all in their place before or after putting the front plate on?" I found out (lesson four) that you must put the bell hammer spring in position before, and the other two springs after, you put the front plate on the pillars.
As my fifth lesson, I learned that the movement has a passing strike on the half hours. A cam on the centre arbor directly launches the bell hammer at 30 minutes past the hour. It also triggers the lifting piece on the whole hours. Interesting, I have not seen many of these passing strikes mechanisms yet.
My sixth lesson was that I observed that the countwheel, which sits on the striking train's great wheel, has two series of slots from 1 to 12. One series, of course, would be enough. I gather the reason for the two series of 1 to12 slots is to allow the great wheel to turn round in 24 rather than 12 hours. This allows to run the clock longer, as the great wheel can now turn half as fast compared to if there was only one series of 1 to 12 slots.
 |
| Countwheel with two times 12 hours cut out |
In the meantime, I am studying how to put the new going mainspring into the clock once it arrives! By logically deducing everything that is related to the main spring I can only conclude that we will have to wind the going train of the clock counter clockwise while the striking train will be wound clock wise. I have never seen such a thing and cannot believe my conclusion! A quick search on Google, though, on the words winding of American clocks opposite direction confirms my conclusion as correct. Why hasn't any clockmaker told me this? Somebody could have rung me and kindly explained that this is quite typical with American clocks.
I am now anxiously waiting for the postman who always so kindly says "sorry to disturb you" when I open the door in my TerKuileClocks apron, with my loop clipped to my clock glasses and my hands protruding in surgical gloves ready to receive the mail.
Wednesday, 19 May 2010
The reinstatement of the Michael Hall turret clock
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I would spend every Sunday in the garden of my grand parents in Holland. I would find a quiet spot where I could not be seen and start imagining things. What would I do for a living when I grew up? Where would I live? Would I have a wife and children? What would I look like as a grownup? Invariably, during these moments of bliss, the village church bell would ring. Today, hearing the bell of any church clock harks me back to this world of wonder.
A failed attempt to get permission to try my hand at repairing the Forest Row village church clock convinced me to approach the Resources Manager at Michael Hall for permission to try and get the clock house clock going again. A nod and a wink later, I was up there in the bell tower trying to understand what is what. My one year training at West Dean College in Chichester had prepared me to repair antique clocks. I had practiced on quite a number of them, but a real tower clock (or “turret” clock as we say in the trade) was not on the menu in Chichester. Of course, we had learned about, seen and touched the oldest still running clock in the world (from 1386) in Salisbury Cathedral made by three Dutchmen at the request of Bishop Erghum. That clock does not have a dial. It only rings a bell. More than sufficient when most people worked on the land. The bell told them the essentials.
When William Nevill (aka Lord Abergavenny) bought Kidbrooke Park in 1734 turret clocks had dials by then. It must have been William who put this clock in our clock house. A plaque on the clock says it was made in 1736 by Joseph Pattison (“Jos Pattison Fecit 1736”). Joseph (according to my clockmaker’s bible) lived in Chester in 1767 and only worked on watches. So who should I believe? If only the clock could speak.
As the picture shows, despite its almost 300 years, it is still a fine specimen. But when it comes to antique clocks, never believe what you see on the name plate. I am always tempted to misread inscriptions like the above as “Jos Pattison faked it in 1736”. Many clocks we hold for antiques have been mixed and matched with other clocks, to such an extent that we can never be sure we look the original in the eye.
The bell in the clock house is from later (1802). Thomas Mears made it in London. There must have been an earlier bell that burst in two. By the time Lord Abergavenny decided to sell Kidbrooke in 1803, the buyer must have insisted on this new bell. The buyer wasn’t exactly a nobody either: Charles Abbot, Speaker of the House of Commons.
Our clock just has an hour hand. Minutes did exist, but did not have the same sense of urgency as today. Indeed, clocks were set on sundial time. So, different places in England had their own time. Clocks were only synchronised throughout the country when trains started running.
Teachers, parents, maintenance staff and turret clock experts helped me restore the clock. It is now ready to begin a new life on midsummer’s day when the bell will strike the hours from midday onwards. I will sit somewhere in a quiet corner in Kidbrooke Park to review my life while the bell will ring in the future. All is well.
Marc ter Kuile, parent and clockmaker
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