What is it?

It's been a while since your local horologist has penned a missive. Apologies.

Finally the proverbial muse has sung loudly enough to inspire capturing here the fascination and excitement of this little piece of horology.

Behold a part of a clock that has served both as inspiration and perspiration these last couple months.

But what is this dingus?

Here's a hint. The photo is beguiling. Displayed here laying on the workbench, in fact this critter is meant to actually function in a vertical orientation so imagine it rotated clockwise about 90 degrees.

Here's another hint... Of late this clock hoarder fan has increasingly been fascinated by the sometimes unusual or dramatic features of certain styles of clocks. One such style is the Morbier (AKA Comtoise clock).

And our mystery item is part of a Morbier clock. 

What is a Morbier clock?

The kind reader possibly has seen such a clock without knowing its name.

The classic design of the Morbier is memorable -- typically consisting of a large, white enamel dial with an ornate but thinly layered brass surround (a "repoussee") and a very large and often matching, ornate brass pendulum. Traditionally these clocks were set in large wooden cases (like a grandfather clock) but often they were displayed with no case at all.

Let us step back further back in time just a bit. 

On a 2019 visit to the NAWCC museum in Columbia PA with his forbearing wife, YLH snapped a photo of two Morbiers, one cased and one not.

Along side them on the left is a Dutch clock (and there's a story for another day).

Morbier was the name of a village (now merged with and renamed to Tancua) in the broader Franche-Comté region of France (ergo Comtoise) quite close to the border of Switzerland in the Jura mountains. Peaking in popularity in the mid to late 19th century Morbier clocks were first made in this region from the late 17th century until production effectively ended during WWI. 

Today Morbier is known more for its cheese than its horological history.

And that history is fantastic (you will be spared for now) but in short these were clocks that were all hand made by farmers and local craftsmen across many tiny towns in this very rural area. 

Remarkably similar to the backstory of Mora clocks in Sweden.

There were no Morbier factories and few records survived in the over 200 years of production but estimates are that well over one million Morbier clocks were produced.

After months of ogling varietals YLH found a wonderful Morbier on eBay for a reasonable price. And the clock was complete and unmolested.

Here is the dial with its repoussee sitting on YLH's new workbench.

Charmingly decorated with a little vignette of rural, 19th century French life.

But, as in the title of the quite mediocre Robert Zemeckis film, what lies beneath?

OK behind.

That repoussee hides the clocks bell and a very large movement housing.

Note: this clock nerd wanted a classic Morbier so unless otherwise noted assume all features described are typical or classic to these clocks.

Mobier movements are housed in a metal frame which is completely encased in a black, sheet metal top, bottom and set of side doors.

And with the repoussee removed even the dial sits on a sheet of metal.

And finally with the dial removed (and the side doors opened) you get a view of the incredible movement that resides within.

Is this not wonderful!

And some interior views from each side.

Oh man. All the hand cut and hammered metals. 

Ahem. 

Getting any ideas about the identity of the dingus?

Jumping ahead a bit, here's a shot YLH took during a subsequent disassembly of the beastie. You can see much of the dingus in situ.

But the question remains... Vas is das?

Why it's a rack and rack tail of course. Part of the rack and snail striking feature of the clock.

Duh. Obviously.

Sorry. 

To be fair dear reader, on first look, YLH didn't know either.

Never seen anything like it.

The shape of the rack and it's tail is a far cry from a more traditional rack like this one.

So yes it took this clock geek a few turns of the dial to understand what it was much less fully grok how it worked. Your correspondent won't drown the reader in details but that the sawtoothed brass piece is the rack and the bent wire rod that curls up around and down is the rack tail.

Below is another view of it out of the movement.

That brass toothed rack is attached to the metal rods and the whole thing (including the tail) slide up and down the rod through the two brass brackets affixed to the metal post.

And the effect of the tail sliding up and down is that it will land on the snail to set itself to count off the proper number of hours for striking.

Don't worry. There isn't a test.

Can you discern the rack's resemblance to one in a more traditional rack and snail striking system?

Or any "modern" horological reference to rack and snail striking that one might happen upon.

from Practical Clock Repairing by Donald de Carle (1968)

While it took the clock doc a while to get the gist of the thing ultimately there was so much simple beauty in the design of this clock it quickly became a minor obsession of this horologist.

As you will see the Morbier has many more entertaining things to reveal.

YLH hopes this taste of 19th century, rural French countryside horology has left you starving for more.