John Sanderson was born in 1671 and spent much of his childhood at Tiffinthwaite Farm, near Wigton, where his father Robert worked as the resident blacksmith and the family are believed to have lived within the farm buildings. Tiffinthwaite was one of the earliest centres of Quakerism in Cumberland and had strong associations with the Pearson family and the early Society of Friends. Following the death of his father, Sanderson later became closely connected with the Pearson family himself and in 1691 married Elizabeth Pearson, granddaughter of William Pearson of Tiffinthwaite. It has long been suggested that Sanderson may have trained under the Quaker clockmaker John Ogden of Bowbridge in Yorkshire during the 1680s. No apprenticeship document has yet been found to prove this, but similarities between their surviving clocks suggest that Sanderson was influenced by, or trained within, the same horological tradition. By the early 1690s Sanderson was back in the Wigton district and had begun producing the distinctive clocks that would eventually form the foundation of what has become known as the Wigton School of Clockmaking.

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From my own experience of collecting and studying Sanderson’s surviving clocks, I believe that many of his earliest 30-hour examples with decorative lantern-style brass pillars were probably originally intended to be sold as relatively inexpensive wall clocks. A simple wall bracket would have allowed the attractive brass movement to remain fully visible while avoiding the considerable additional cost of commissioning a longcase. The purchaser could then continue using the clock in this form or have it housed in a wooden case at a later date if finances and circumstances permitted. It is also quite possible that clocks of this type were offered for sale at Wigton market and throughout the surrounding district. Remarkably, surviving documentary evidence now proves that Sanderson travelled considerably farther in search of customers. In May 1715 the records of the Edinburgh Incorporation of Hammermen show that Sanderson was discovered offering two clocks for sale in Edinburgh. His clocks were seized because he was not a freeman of the Incorporation, but on 18 May they were returned to him upon payment of twenty shillings sterling. Three days later he entered into a bond undertaking not to bring clocks, watches or similar work into Edinburgh for sale again. We cannot know whether those two clocks were uncased wall clocks, and the records themselves do not describe their construction. Nevertheless, the episode demonstrates beyond doubt that Sanderson was transporting clocks over considerable distances in search of customers.

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The late Brian Loomes also suggested that these distinctive lantern-style 30-hour movements may originally have stood upon wall brackets rather than necessarily being housed immediately in longcases. Such an arrangement would not only have reduced their initial cost but would also have made them considerably easier to transport. This is particularly interesting when looking at the tulip-dial clock illustrated here. Its movement retains the decorative brass lantern-style pillars that would have been largely hidden inside a conventional longcase, and its dial is signed simply ‘John Sanderson’ without the place name Wigton. Although this cannot prove that the clock was intended for sale away from Wigton, I believe the combination of these features and the surviving Edinburgh evidence makes the possibility especially intriguing. As with other surviving examples, some of Sanderson’s early wall clocks were later housed in purpose-made cases, while others were adapted to previously occupied cases. I regard these later changes not as defects but as part of each clock’s natural history, reflecting changing fashions, circumstances and generations of ownership.