Cowper can find no better words to describe the utter desolation of the island where the shipwrecked Selkirk bemoaned his absolute solitude 'out of humanity's reach,' than by putting into his mouth the language—
'But the sound of a church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard, Never sigh'd at the sound of a knell, Nor smiled when a Sabbath appear'd.'
In our everyday experience we can each testify to the truthfulness of the poet who points to the close association which exists in most minds between the church clock and the varying times and seasons, with their different joys and sorrows, and we can most of us say, with Southey,—
'I love the bell that calls the poor to pray, Chiming from village church its cheerful sound, When the sun smiles on labour's holy-day And all the rustic train are gather'd round, Each deftly dizen'd in his Sunday's best, And pleased to hail the day of piety and rest. And when, dim shadowing o'er the face of day, The mantling mists of eventide rise slow, As through the forest gloom I wend my way, The minster curfew's sullen voice I know, And pause, and love its solemn toll to hear, As made by distance soft it dies upon the ear.'
It is but a short step from the sentimental consideration of such reminiscences to the practical inquiry how is the public time kept, and yet it is one which probably is seldom taken with a view to more or less thorough investigation. Without traversing the distance which divides us from that antique time when Archimedes measured the shadows of the Pyramids by his walking-stick, or when the 'dial of Ahaz' was constructed as one of the first of historical time-measurers, we can discover the principles upon which an instrument such as a thoroughly serviceable public clock of the present time, with all the newest improvements both in time-keeping and in wearing qualities, should be produced.
It is of some consequence, in the first place, to know that the introduction of steam-machinery has added to the accuracy of clockwork and at the same time considerably diminished its cost; fifty or sixty years ago there would have been charged as much as £800 for a turret clock inferior to that which may now be procured for £150; and the result is to be seen in the largely increased numbers of public time-pieces. It is obvious, however, that there is none the less need of care in the choice of a Clockmaker, for upon his skill and trustworthiness will depend whether the money be well spent or not, and whether the instrument furnished by him prove to be valuable and serviceable. It is not a purchase wherein the buyer can usually of himself judge of the merits of his bargain, he must rely upon the reputation established by previous works of the same kind. If the Clockmaker be not merely a clock-seller (as is too often the case, for Turret Clockmakers are but few), he will be able to point to similar instruments made and set up by himself in different towns and cities, in proof of his ability, but there will still be a necessity for explaining to the purchaser the chief points upon which the accuracy of such a time-keeper must depend.
In the first place, it is necessary to say that Turret Clocks are not merely house clocks upon an enlarged scale, differing from the latter merely in size and weight, but that the extra strength of the machinery requires greater weight of materials 'in a ratio as much higher as the cube is higher than the square of any of its dimensions,' and that increased weight means increase of friction. Besides this point which is peculiarly the province of the Turret Clockmaker, there are important questions to be considered by architects and their employers as to the proper method of constructing a Turret Clock chamber, so as to prevent too much atmospheric variation,—heat and cold, wind and damp, being each likely in some degree, as the seasons change, to affect the public time-keeper,—as witness the clock of St Paul's Cathedral, popularly believed to be an exemplary piece of mechanism, and yet often forced by the wind to vary its time so as to damage its own reputation among those who narrowly watch its behaviour under what may be called trying circumstances. It is not wise to build a tower without careful consideration for the tenant which is to occupy it, or having regard merely to architectural notions of external proportion, for usually it happens that when clock and bells occur as an afterthought, there is often some difficulty and extra expense in planning the room for them. Plenty of length and breadth to allow of the proper fall of the clock-weights and the swing of the pendulum save much in the cost of fixing, and are necessary to secure good time-keeping with the least trouble, for it is obvious that where numerous bevelled wheels with rod-work are employed for the purpose of moving the hands over the dial, if the probabilities of unvarying accuracy are not lessened, the cost must be much increased. Works which have to be placed at some distance from the dials must be more powerful than if they could be put in their proper place, and a little forethought in the architect will save much money both in the original price of the machinery of a clock and in its subsequent repair. Then again, there is always the question for and against the illumination of dials to be considered, and of course with this is unavoidably mixed up not only the arrangements as regards space for the proper working of the time-keeping, striking, and lighting machinery, but the vexed question of ventilation above referred to,—some horologers asserting that chambers as nearly air tight as may be should be devised, and others that there ought to be a draught through the clock-room. There are in fact so many opinions more or less excellent, according to the circumstances of each case, that there is no laying down any arbitrary and unvarying rule,much must be left to the discretion of the Turret Clock manufacturer,—upon whom as has been already stated it is necessary also to rely for the essentials of a good clock, viz., the soundness of the materials, the quality of the workmanship, and the scientific accuracy with which the instrument has been planned and put together. Now before considering the present advanced state of the art of Turret Clockmaking and the various improvements which have to be carefully studied and applied by the makers who would bear the highest reputations as manufacturers, it will be necessary to bear in mind what has been said of the step-by-step progress in horological science of which we have already endeavoured to give the chief particulars. From 1288 A.D., the date of the oldest historical clock—that mentioned as having been set up near Westminster Hall by means of funds derived from a fine levied by the Lord Chief Justice of the period—till now when Big Ben reigns in its stead, is a long interval, with many wonderful incidents, and some great historical names. Henry de Wyck's Paris invention, Galileo's discovery of the pendulum, Huygens's practical application of that discovery, Dr Hooke's 'anchor' escapement, and Graham's dead-beat escapement, Harrison's 'gridiron' pendulum, and the latest applications of electricity and eccentricity, have each and all their peculiar attraction for horological students, but we need not recur to these branches of this highly interesting subject elsewhere treated of. We will proceed to mention a few memoranda about several old public clocks whose ingenious mechanism gained for them a well-deserved fame,—not, perhaps, so much for accuracy in time-keeping as for the grotesque devices with which old clockmakers amused their contemporaries? To them time, as such, was perhaps of not so much consequence as it is to us in these days of telegraph and steam communication. We moderns seem to think it a task sufficiently difficult to set up a sound public time-piece without connecting therewith the wonder-working machinery of a wax-work exhibition.
The Clock at Wells Cathedral, made originally A.D. 1340, by a monk named Peter Lightfoot, is one of the best known of its class still in some sort of working order. The dial of this horologe is divided into 24 hours; it shows the motion of the sun and moon, and bears upon its summit eight armed knights on horseback, tilting with lance in rest at one another, by a double rotatory motion. This clock was removed from Glastonbury to Wells after the dissolution of the Glastonbury Monastery. In 1835 the works were so worn away that they were replaced by a new train, the curious old dial and equestrian knights being still retained.
St Dunstan's Clock [see p. 137]. This Clock, when old St Dunstan's Church in Fleet Street was