Early Clocks | Lee Borrett
Richard Sill
of
Wigton Fecit,
c.1705
The wonderfully interesting early religious-versed 30-hour clock illustrated here was made by Richard Sill of Wigton, an important early maker associated with the distinctive provincial tradition now known as the Wigton School of Clockmaking, centred upon the work of John Sanderson. Dating from c.1705, its polished brass dial centre is deeply engraved with the solemn Memento Mori verse, ‘Remember man, That Die thou must, And after that, To judgement just’, a form also found on early religious clocks by Sanderson.
The absence of applied corner spandrels, together with the substantial brass-and-iron lantern-style movement behind the dial, are characteristic features associated with early clocks of the Wigton tradition. Particularly unusual is the little penny moon incorporated into the dial centre, a rare and delightful feature that adds considerably to the individuality of this remarkable early clock.
Above. The wonderfully interesting brass dial of this early religious-versed 30-hour clock by Richard Sill of Wigton, c.1705. The deeply engraved religious verse, absence of applied corner spandrels and rare penny moon combine to give the dial its distinctive early character. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. Close-up of the wonderfully busy dial centre, showing the interesting half-hour markers, deeply engraved decoration and original iron hands. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. Close-up of the rare penny moon incorporated into the dial centre. Beneath it can be seen the deeply engraved religious verse, ‘Remember man, That Die thou must, And after that, To judgement just’. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. Close-up of the maker’s signature, boldly engraved ‘Richard Sill Wigton
Fecit’ — literally, ‘Richard Sill of Wigton made it’. Photographed by Lee Borrett
A Remarkable
Brass-and-Iron Movement
Above. Side view of Richard Sill’s substantial brass-and-iron lantern-style movement, characteristic of the early Wigton tradition. The movement survives in wonderfully original condition, retaining its original wheelwork and brass collets. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. Close-up showing the original wheelwork, brass collets and pinions. The substantial construction provides a wonderful example of the practical craftsmanship found in these early Wigton movements. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. Rear view of the substantial brass-and-iron movement. The distinctive cartwheel-cast dial construction is characteristic of a number of northern clocks from this early period. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Below. View of the top plate, showing the longcase-style bellstand and distinctive pyramid-shaped backcock, both features encountered on early clocks associated with the Wigton tradition. Photographed by Lee Borrett
Clocks Without Cases?
One particularly intriguing question surrounding these early Wigton 30-hour clocks concerns the way in which they were originally sold and used. Many possess substantial brass-and-iron movements with decorative lantern-style pillars which would have remained fully visible if the clock were displayed without a longcase. This raises the possibility that at least some may originally have been intended for use upon a wall bracket or shelf, allowing the owner to acquire a practical domestic clock without the additional expense of a purpose-made longcase. There is also fascinating documentary evidence demonstrating just how far John Sanderson travelled in order to sell his clocks. In May 1715 the records of the Edinburgh Incorporation of Hammermen show that Sanderson was discovered offering two clocks for sale in Edinburgh. As an outsider who was not a freeman of the Incorporation, the clocks were seized. On 18 May the Hammermen agreed to return them upon payment of twenty shillings sterling, and three days later Sanderson entered into a bond undertaking not to bring clocks, watches or similar work into Edinburgh for sale in the future. This remarkable episode provides firm documentary evidence that Sanderson was carrying clocks considerable distances from Wigton in search of customers. The late Brian Loomes also suggested that Sanderson’s characteristic 30-hour clocks with their lantern-style movements may originally have stood upon wall brackets rather than necessarily being housed in longcases. Such an arrangement would have reduced the initial cost to the purchaser and would also have made these substantial movements considerably easier to transport over a long journey such as that from Wigton to Edinburgh.
We cannot know how the two clocks seized in Edinburgh in 1715 were housed, and the surviving record does not prove that they were uncased movements. Nevertheless, from a practical point of view, transporting comparatively compact lantern-style movements would have been considerably easier than carrying two complete longcase clocks. When this is considered alongside the surviving early Wigton clocks now found either uncased or housed in apparently later cases, the wall-bracket interpretation becomes an especially intriguing possibility. A wooden case could have been commissioned either immediately or at some later date, perhaps when circumstances allowed. This may help to explain why a number of surviving early Wigton movements are today found in cases that appear to post-date the clocks themselves, while others have at some point during their long working lives been adapted to fit previously occupied cases.
From my own experience of collecting and examining early Wigton clocks, I believe it is quite possible that many of the early religious-versed 30-hour examples with lantern-style movements may initially have been used without longcases. At present this remains an interpretation rather than something that can be established with certainty, but the documented evidence of Sanderson carrying clocks as far as Edinburgh gives the possibility a fascinating practical context. What is certain is that these clocks were practical household objects which often remained in use for generations. Cases were altered, replaced or adapted as fashions and circumstances changed. Rather than viewing such changes entirely negatively, I believe they should sometimes be understood as part of the natural working history of clocks that have survived for more than three centuries.
Above. The early Richard Sill 30-hour clock displayed upon a primitive oak wall bracket, demonstrating how a clock of this type could have been used without a longcase. Whether this particular clock was originally intended to be used in this way remains uncertain. Photograph by Lee Borrett
Richard Sill of Wigton
Richard Sill was born around 1670 and was established in Wigton by 1704, when he married Mary Jefferson there, although he may already have been resident in the area for some years. He died in 1729.
Sill’s earliest surviving clocks display particularly strong similarities to those of John Sanderson, including their substantial brass-and-iron movements, lantern-style pillars and, in some examples, the use of religious verses upon the dial. These similarities place Sill firmly within the early Wigton clockmaking tradition centred upon Sanderson. Whether Sill worked directly for Sanderson, alongside him, or independently within the same local tradition remains uncertain, but his surviving clocks demonstrate that he was an accomplished and important early member of what has subsequently become known as the Wigton School of Clockmaking.
A Rare Survivor of
the Wigton School
This wonderfully original Richard Sill clock provides a fascinating glimpse into the formative years of the Wigton School of Clockmaking. Its deeply engraved religious verse, rare penny moon, unadorned brass dial and substantial lantern-style movement all belong to the distinctive provincial tradition that developed around Wigton during the closing years of the seventeenth century and opening decades of the eighteenth.
More than three centuries later, its remarkably original movement and wonderfully characterful dial survive as tangible evidence of the craftsmanship and beliefs of the community for which these clocks were made. For me, clocks such as this are amongst the most evocative survivors of early northern English provincial clockmaking.
Acknowledgement
I would like to acknowledge with gratitude the pioneering research of the late Brian Loomes, whose work did more than anyone else’s to establish our modern understanding of John Sanderson and the Wigton School of Clockmaking. His book Brass Dial Clocks contains an important chapter devoted to the Wigton School, while his many published articles remain essential reading for anyone wishing to study these fascinating early provincial clocks.
I remain greatly indebted to his scholarship, which has provided an invaluable foundation for my own continuing study and appreciation of the early clockmakers of Wigton.