What's in a face?

I was worried about shipment. Stories of slate clocks cracking in shipment abound.

The seller and I traded emails about this and he did an incredible job packing the clock. The clock itself weighs about 20 pounds but arrived completely intact and super well-protected. It was triple-boxed. 

Oh there's that nearly flawless dial. So often these are cracked or badly chipped. This one has no cracks and the smallest of chips right along the bottom rim of the keyhole. A very common location for chips.

I did a basic disassembly of the clock just to inspect it.

The "guts" of the clock, the entire movement, the whole front of the clock face, the dial, the front brass bezel and its glass door are all held in place in the case by straps of metal that go through the case front to back along the sides of the movement and connect to a rear bezel. Virtually all antique French clocks hold this complete unit in the case with bezel straps.

Here's all of it removed as a single unit, slid out from the front of the case:

See the dark black metal straps attached to the front bezel? They are bent at 90 degrees at the end and have screw holes in them. You can see the screw hole clearly in the far strap.

Here's the rear view of the clock with the rear bezel and door. The pendulum removed...

Note that the rear door is also glass and it's those two screws on the rear bezel ring that attach to the bezel straps inside the case connecting it to the front bezel. When those straps are drawn tight (tightening the screws), they bind the entire front and back bezels in place against the front and back of the case and thus holding the entire unit in the clock case. Then you just connect the pendulum.

You can see a bezel strap screwed to the rear bezel in this shot (pendulum removed):

Loosening and then removing those left and right screws unfastens the straps and thus releases the straps from the rear bezel. Then you can slide the whole unit out of the front hole of the case. 

And a rear view of the now empty case:

(That's another clock movement behind it.)

After an overall cursory inspection I took a much closer look at the dial. It had to be removed from the housing that sits in front of the movement that connects bezel to dial to door.

In this photo the movement is on the right and the front bezel, the housing for the dial and front door are all in the larger brass section on the left. 

That is the model number of the clock stamped on the outside edge of the front bezel.

Quick French clock authenticity lesson: 

This clock is likely all original. How do I know? 

In addition to the model number stamp on the bezel above, look at the earlier photo above of the clock laying on its face with the pendulum laying on top of it. You can see the same number stamped on the back plate of the movement (on the left next to the Japy makers mark) and on the pendulum bob too. Those are the three locations that early French clock makers would stamp their model numbers.

While much of my learning comes from internet research, especially the NAWCC, I decided to pick up a used copy of the definitive book on the subject: The French Marble Clock by Nicholas Thorpe. It's a treasure trove of history and information both for this and my Jules Rolez.

Many old clocks have what is often referred to as porcelain dials. While visually very similar to porcelain, in fact the vast majority of old clock dials are made from a "vitreous" enamel fired onto a metal faceplate with the numerals and such painted on the enamel.

From one of the experts at the NAWCC:

"There's a great deal of confusion in this terminology. True, vitreous enamel, used since the 17thC, especially in France, for clock dials, is produced by melting powdered glass onto a metal substrate. To prevent cracking at the high temperatures used, the substrate has to have a coefficient of thermal expansion close to that of the glass. Copper does have one close to that of soda glass. But it's still a very tricky operation, especially for larger dials; that's the reason French dials tend to be small, and many are multi-part.

Still, everyone loved those pure white, smooth, curved, permanent dials, and tried to copy them. The English invented the flat painted white dial manufactured on iron, and the Black Forest makers invented the Schild Uhr dial, curved in one direction, on wood. Paintmakers found a way of making a smooth glossy baked on finish, and called it enamel. Other paintmakers started to call any high gloss paint enamel, and so real enamel started to be called "porcelain"..."

Here's an enlightening image, from that NAWCC post, of a badly chipped dial on a 20th century German clock. You can see the layer of enamel over the metal (in this case, steel, as the clock is more modern).

Fortunately our Japy's face is in far better shape, albeit a little dirty.

Now for some lovely inside baseball...

You can see the brilliant, almost azure blue enameling on the other side of the face. That is exactly what you would see in an old, French, enameled clock dial.

Regardez.

 

You probably already noticed another hallmark of these old French clocks... the dial makers often sign the inside of their enameled dials.

I love this side of the dial so much, I just want to display that instead of the clock. I think inverting the dial would be a no-no. :)

As you will see later on I had very little to do to this dial other than gently clean the face.

Up next... the mysteries of the movement are revealed.

And later... the mysteries of and repairs to the case.

Whee!