L. V. Beethoven

Armando's Articles - III - Beethoven and the Art of Watchmaking

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Base article from 2009 as a draft of the article published in English in the "Neue Beethoven Studien" volume nine (2011). In the NBS, the part dedicated to A. W. Thayer as well as the bibliographic parts are by Luigi Bellofatto. (In this venue, only the descriptive part concerning Beethoven's clocks is reported, as well as the clock in my possession belonging to Tobias Haslinger, and Thayer's repeating watch, which I repaired, owned by Luigi himself). The second part, with the detailed description of the repair I carried out at the Beethoven-Archiv on Beethoven's pendulum clock in September 2011, and the accurate and unpublished research that Luigi has conducted on the owners of Beethovenian clocks, will be published in volume 10 of the NBS in about a month, in the hope that this published one and the future one will be the definitive research on this fascinating and unusual subject.

BEETHOVEN AND THE ART OF WATCHMAKING,

A TECHNICAL-ICONOGRAPHIC RESEARCH

THE CLOCKS OF BEETHOVEN, OF TOBIAS HASLINGER AND OF ALEXANDER WHEELOCK THAYER

Part one: pocket watches

The final inventory of the "Beethoven Succession" auction reads as follows: "Inventory and judicial appraisal of the succession of Mr. Ludwig van Beethoven, composer, deceased in Vienna on March 26, 1827, from the will, at 200 Alservorstadt. Duration of vacations: 8 days. Paragraph four, precious objects, item number three: silver minute watch, estimated price in conventional currency Florins 8."…..

This summary description by the curator was included in an earlier draft of this article, which appeared in the A.B.F.'s "Revue Beethoven" and led me to conjecture a reconstruction of this watch, of which I did not know the image at the time and which I report here at the bottom:

1) An old-fashioned verge escapement, much more "crude" but much less delicate than those with a "cylinder" system.

2) Silver case, as demonstrated by the auction sale.

3) White enamel dial, with large Arabic numerals (much more in use in Austria from 1770-1830 than Roman numerals).

4) Two hands, for hours and minutes (minute watch, says the inventory), rather visible, since Beethoven was quite nearsighted, as demonstrated by his glasses that have survived to us.

5) Fusee and chain winding, with probable rear winding, and a "pipe" key.

6) It is very difficult to establish the origin of the movement. Before and after the Napoleonic wars, it was practice for exporters of English movements to have their movements produced in their homeland re-cased abroad.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

My fruitful collaboration with Luigi Bellofatto led to tracing some rare articles concerning Beethovenian clocks. The first, published by the English magazine "Musical Time" on December 15, 1892, tells us about a first watch, even attaching a drawing to the short snippet: "BEETHOVEN'S WATCH (p. 24). This watch, now in the possession of G. W. Davy, Esq., is supposed to be the one which is known to have been sent by Moscheles from London. The case is of silver and of foreign manufacture, while the works are of English make. The maker, George Prior, was also a well-known violoncellist, and it is not too much to suppose that he was known to Moscheles. Another reason for favouring this supposition is, that in the filigree covering of the interior works is the figure of a lyre".

That is: Beethoven's watch. "This watch, currently possessed by Mr. G. W. Davy, is supposed to have been sent (to Beethoven) by Moscheles from London. The case is silver and of foreign manufacture, while the mechanism is English.

The creator, Georg Prior, was also a well-known cellist, and it can be assumed that he was known to Moscheles. Another reason favoring this supposition is that engraved in the filigree covering the movement is a lyre."

In the Poldi Pezzoli museum in Milan, an example donated by Bruno Falk in 1973 is preserved, made by the same Prior, and from the exact same period. Although, as a case, it is of much more elaborate workmanship than the watch under examination, it actually replicates its essential stylistic elements. In all the specimens I have observed, the dial yields dimension to an elaborate circular section, which Prior uses for decoration non-functional to reading the time, embellished with motifs of clearly rustic derivation. In fact, the dial, canonically made of enamel, is greatly sacrificed in its dimensions, although Prior adopts the Arabic numbering system.

In the photograph, one notices the time adjustment screw on the friction of the minute hand. As with practically all English production of the period, the winding is located at the back, directly"}{

on the cone. Again, one can glimpse to the right the small opening notch of the back case, to access the counter-case and thus wind the watch.

The succinct description provided to us does not dispel many doubts; for example, the statement “The case is of silver and of foreign manufacture” must have been supported by reading hallmarks engraved in the silver that do not correspond to those of Prior himself.

The second deduction, namely “Another reason for favouring this supposition is, that in the filigree covering of the interior works is the figure of a lyre” is equally to be rejected. First of all, the “filigree” to which the describer refers is certainly the description of the balance bridge, which in watches of this era, as we have already had the chance to say, was systematically worked with a graver (we will also see this in the second lost watch).

The fact that the engraver opted for a lyre is not an element disproving belonging to a musician, since the lyre, thanks also to its shape, was reproduced on a large number of balance bridges, both by other engravers and by Prior himself.

Easier, in my opinion, is that Prior may have been referring instead to his esteemed activity as a cellist; there is another famous watch belonging to the same maker, this time a female chatelaine, which carries an allegory of music, both in the movement and in the excellent polychrome enamels of the case.

Also interesting is the small trilobed key, worked in repoussé, probably contemporary, bimetallic. The small chain is barely visible, but it appears to be a simple groumette.

……………………………………………………

The second watch in question, recorded in the BeethovenHaus archive as B 738/c and Ley, band VI, Nr. 1141 Archivraum II) by an anonymous maker and probably dating from the 10s/20s of the last century, presents the watch lying on a cushion, with a large Roman numeral dial, two worked spheres of the “Louis XV” type, and the large small dial for setting them.

A particularly interesting detail is the presence of the large and robust protective case, of a military type, to preserve the delicate inner case, worked in repoussé with decorations and thin spheres imitating river pearls or beads, and the apical hole for the exit of the pendant, i.e., the bar or collar, fixed to the case of the same watch, on which the suspension ring is hinged. In this case, the ring appears very flattened, reflecting a taste that is typically more French or German than English.

The second photograph (B 738/c Mappe 7/22) proves to be very interesting, as it shows us the back of the object, with the winding square of the watch (we also notice the wear on the edge, an index of continuous use of the device) as well as the interesting, large military-type hinge, to facilitate the opening of the glass bezel.

The inscription “Ludwig van Beethoven” engraved with a graver, horizontally below the winding hole, can be stated to be the work of a local German engraver, due to the Gothic block letters, with few flourishes and with a crudely made “B”.

In the last and no less important photographic evidence, B 738/b Mappe 7/22, here is the canonical view of an open verge watch, with its large silver or alloy shell, the hole to access the winding square, and the reversal of the movement, which becomes underneath relative to the case.

It is impossible to establish the origin of the movement, but one can notice the large decorations of the plate, as well as the tasteful engraving of the balance bridge, here decorated with an exquisite motif of two angels supporting a coat of arms.

And again, the back part of the watch protection, which in this photograph appears to be composed of burnished metal, or metal covered by a layer of black or reddish leather, perhaps embellished by a crown of small river pearls, which are interrupted only at the exit point of the pendant, which we had already mentioned.

As support for our assertions, the succinct description from the Beethoven Haus reads as follows:

Pocket watch from Beethoven's possession; disassembled individual parts of the case and movement. - Anonymous photograph. N.B.: Cf. for identification of the watch B 738/a; reverse handwritten note: "No. II / Top: Back of protective / cover - reddish-brown flamed / enamel with silver bead border / these are continuous to the left / and unhammered. / Bottom: Watch with opened / movement. On beautifully engraved plate / there are 6 large rubies / the figurative representation in the middle / is made of silver and carries 2 angels with / wings a crown apparently 7 pointed / the coat of arms"

is finely ribbed and / has 3 lines on the left. Beside it, there is what looks like / a split cross on a crown / inside the engraving ROST / SALZBURG. Salzbg. was traced with a brush on the plate because the writing was so small / and therefore indistinct." around 1920? – Photography; 13.5 x 8.8 cm

So, now we know a date, 1797, as resulting from the caption of the other photograph, the name of the maker, such Rost of Salzburg, and that the movement has six "große Rubinen".

This detail of the rubies is perhaps the most interesting, since at the end of the 18th century almost all movements used brass bushings rather than stones, except on the verge bridge. This is a purely aesthetic refinement that justifies a movement of particular value.

Recoil and deadbeat escapements.

Since both watches belonging to Beethoven, as well as the one belonging to my property which belonged to Tobias Haslinger, are of the "verge with fusee and chain" type, it will be useful to have a small digression on this particular type of escapement.

From the beginning of the 16th century, as travel or portable watches became increasingly numerous, the "verge" escapement dominated unchallenged for about 250 years.

As a principle, it was merely a reduction of the escapement with a transverse balance wheel typical of large tower clocks, already in use in the 13th century, finally with the introduction of the circular balance wheel as the standard of the time.

After the introduction of the hairspring in 1675 by Huygens, a decisive discovery, a standard of the time was achieved with autonomous oscillation capacity and thus a notable improvement in the precision of watches.

In parallel with experiments with a hairspring, great efforts were made to improve the escapement itself.

Thus, completely new escapements were born, which came either from the escapements of large clocks or represented new ideas and constructions specific to pocket watches.

An escapement essentially has two tasks: it must brake an overly fast rotation of the gearing, and simultaneously give the balance wheel (the so-called time standard) a periodic, possibly homogeneous, impulse, and thus grant the movement a regular oscillation. This oscillation of the balance group is divided into three phases.

1) impulse phase (impulse arc)

2) completion phase
(completion
arc)

3) return phase
(return
oscillation)

The impulse arc is the path of the balance wheel during which it receives the impulse from the gearing. The completion arc, on the other hand, is the path of the balance wheel following the impulse arc until its return point, i.e., where the impulse energy is utilized.

The return oscillation concludes the path described so far; that is, it is the phase necessary for the balance wheel itself to return from the return point to the beginning of the impulse phase.

This phase is the most important for judging and defining a type of escapement.

Skipping the mere technical-physical descriptions through which this type of escapement can function, it will be useful to note that, in Beethoven's time, most verge wheels were finished in brass and the verge in steel.

In the following explanatory plate (see figure 000) (Planche numéro 27, page 203) taken from an original volume in my possession of the Encyclopédie Méthodique, published in Padua, Italy, in 1787, the various parts of a classic verge movement produced in France are represented. Naturally, the same components are valid for productions in other countries.

Thus, in figure 7, one can note the complete movement of a typical verge watch, seen from three quarters, including the worked verge bridge, as well as, in the foreground, the large fusee of the chain (figure , and the vertical-toothed wheel, traditionally called the "Catherine Wheel", probably thinking of the martyrdom suffered by the saint of Alexandria, who underwent a martyrdom inflicted by two large toothed wheels.

The figure 9 presents the fusee (F) with the large retention chain (H), the hook that prevents it from slipping (G), as well as, very importantly, the mainspring barrel (A) which contains the spring itself (figure 10).

And here is the reason for such a complication: springs were built concentrically, as figure 10 demonstrates, as there was not yet the possibility of building "mainsprings" or "violin-key" springs.

Therefore, the spring itself exerted much more force when fully wound rather than unwound, causing the watch to accelerate greatly in the first hours of winding, and then progressively decelerate.

The retention chain, wound on the fusee, which is wider at first and becomes narrower, compensates for this tension,

distributing the spring force as homogeneously as possible.

In Figure 12, the inclined pin of the chain guide is very clearly visible, winding from bottom to top as the spring unwinds.

Figure 11 represents the method for regulating the movement's time. Generally, the lever (T) integral with the small wheel (S) was placed on a large aluminum disc—which in that era was a precious material—engraved with "Avance" or "Rétard", or, on English-made watches, "Fast" and "Slow", terms still in use today on many modern manual and automatic mechanisms.

Figure 14 presents the balance wheel disc, the three-turn hairspring, as well as the long stem of the verge (2), with its two pallets, which act upon the escape wheel illustrated in Figure 16.

In Figure 17, the escape wheel is shown from the side. In this type of movement, there were normally 13 inclined teeth, and Haslinger's watch is no exception.

A final digression is granted by the following figure taken from plate 25 on page 201 of the same Encyclopédie Méthodique;

In this exploded view, one can notice with what mastery the individual links of the retention chains were forged, with each link composed of figure-eight sections with through-holes.

Since these chains are always under tension, even when the watch is unwound, one can well understand how many times these parts could fail and necessitate a repair of the watch.

Moreover, it seems that even Beethoven himself brought his own watch to a specialist at least once, as evidenced by conversation notebooks and as we shall see later on.

In the 18th century, some experiments were begun with ruby pallets on the verge, which however did not lead to any improvement, if one excludes the marine chronometers of Harrison and Larcum Kendall, who also refined the entire watch mechanism with high precision.

Perron performed many experiments in 1790 with escape wheels made of gold and steel. In the gold escape wheels, the verge broke easily. Steel escape wheels with a little oil on the pallet showed effective results, even though the escapement in verge watches must never be oiled.

These experiments were nonetheless conducted too late, as at the beginning of the nineteenth century a new protagonist was already emerging: the cylinder escapement, which would definitively supplant the verge within a few decades. Nevertheless, as great makers of verge watches, George Margetts, John Brockbank, John Marriot, William Staples, Timothy Williamson, George Prior, and Markwick Markham distinguished themselves in London—the home of at least two of the three watches examined in this article—producing numerous and precious examples between the end of the 1700s and the early 1800s, many of which were destined for the Turkish market.

In particular, Prior himself made his fortune thanks to the export of precious watches designed for the Ottoman market.

Part Two: The Historical Context

During the lifetime of Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827), the art of watchmaking also underwent a strong evolution; this is essentially due to certain historical influences and the rise of Abraham Louis Breguet, who found the highest expression of his art precisely in the period 1794–1823. Born in 1747 in Neuchâtel, Switzerland, Breguet (see figure number 000) to watchmaking is what Beethoven is to music: he is credited with the greatest intuitions in the history of watchmaking, including the shock protection system for the balance axis, the perpetual calendar, the "gong" striking mechanism, etc.

Naturally, speaking of external influences, one cannot fail to mention the continuous wars, first between Revolutionary France and later Napoleonic France against the Allied powers. Wars that lasted—with brief pauses of a few months—from 1789 to 1815. As a practical consequence of the war, watchmakers of the period were subjected to a demand for increasingly precise and reliable mechanisms, especially regarding the ballistic calculations of artillery. It was during this period that the French introduced the Jean-Baptiste Vaquette de Gribevaul system in their field pieces. Particularly active during this period were Bergmiller in Paris, or the Robert family.

Without going into detail, from the "verge" escapement watches typical of the 18th century, there was a rapid transition to the typical 19th-century "cylinder" escapement, which guaranteed better distribution of the spring force, significantly improving precision over twenty-four hours. The average precision error went from 20 seconds to less than six seconds per day, a leap in precision.

enormous, for the time.

Parallel to the constant improvement of the technical characteristics of personal watches, research regarding applied mechanics also made constant progress.

Particularly requested and a cause of great wonder were mechanical puppets, flotenhur, and the first metronomes. If Breguet was the greatest exponent of personal watchmaking, Pierre Jaquet-Droz, originally from Neuchâtel, Switzerland, was perhaps the greatest exponent of research aimed at constructing mechanical automata, or rather, he was the greatest scholar of the art of watchmaking applied to the construction of "mechanical androids."

A great impression can be drawn from visiting the Museum of Neuchâtel, in particular, regarding music, from a "musical automaton that has a body, head, arms and fingers capable of performing various natural movements; it is also able to perform five different pieces on a small organ with great precision: the head and eyes can move in all directions, and for this reason it can alternately look at the score and its own fingers. At the end of each piece it bows to the audience, moving its head and tilting its body. The throat moves as if it were breathing, and indeed spectators believe that it breathes". This musical automaton, which caused a sensation at the end of the eighteenth century, was largely realized by Pierre's son, Henry-Louis, who, among other things, studied music, a detail that greatly helped the family of "mechanics."

The museum offers us not only automata, but also Flotenhur, horological instruments capable of reproducing music written on rolls. This wonderful coincidence introduces us directly to the consideration that Beethoven was an intimate friend of Count Deym (Strietez 1750 – Prague 1804). This eclectic character was forced to leave Vienna immediately after killing an opponent in a duel, only returning to the capital in 1790 to open a famous "Gallery of Wonders," under the name of Hofstatuarius Muller".

Given its success, in 1796 the gallery was reorganized into larger premises, the so-called "Albergo delle Arti" (Hotel of the Arts). It is noteworthy to read in a newspaper of the time about a sleeping female figure "who in the evening was illuminated by the quiet light of alabaster lamps, and behind whom one could hear the resonance of fascinating music, specifically composed for the place and the vision".

The Beethovenian suite for flotenhur consists of five pieces, which bear the catalogue number WoO 33. The first, an Adagio assai, could perfectly refer to the music for the sleeping maiden, and ultimately is the most famous piece of the five. The second is a scherzo in G major, the third an allegro, also in G major. The fourth and fifth are respectively an allegro non più molto and allegretto (minuet), undoubtedly referring to the same purposes as the previous ones.

More interesting is the Grenadiermarsch (Grenadier March) for flotenhur, written in a period between 1809 and 1819, published and described by G. Kinsky in the Beethoven – Almanach der Deutschen Musikbuckerei in 1927. This march was transcribed from a flutenhur roll that has survived to this day, specifically from roll 7, number 2061 of the Heyermuseum in Cologne. The first two parts, of 20 measures, are not by Beethoven, but are a Haydn march transcribed by Father Niemecz. This peculiarity is of extreme interest, since Haydn himself wrote music for flotenhur (HOBochen XIX 1/6).

Beyond the very limited quality of the music, this Beethovenian dedication to this particular type of mechanical instrument makes us reflect especially regarding the Master's cultural formation, which remains decidedly eighteenth-century, with the attached cultural and playful implications of the eighteenth century.

Well known are the relationships that Beethoven had with the "Court Mechanic" Johann Mälzel (Mälzl), born on 15 8 1772 in Regensburg and deceased in 1838. The term mechanic is very indicative of Maelzel's trade. "Mechanic" referred to the inventor of horological devices. In fact, Maelzel was also a builder of automata, of flotenhur, such as the famous "Panharmonicon," but above all he was the inventor of the metronome.

On second thought, fundamentally the metronome is nothing more than a pendulum mechanism with a reversed escapement. The friction slider which, depending on the height at which it is placed, increases or decreases the speed of the instrument, is nothing more than the disk of the pendulum rod fixed to the anchor of the escapement. The system is so optimized that mechanics reached the 70s of last century without substantial changes, and only the introduction of electronics changed the basic rules of these devices.

Also

if music history reports that the Master of Bonn was the first to adopt the metronome to unequivocally indicate the time markings of his later works, Beethoven's undoubted mathematical difficulty always placed him in a difficult relationship with the instrument; his continuous corrections to the dynamic indications of the Ninth Symphony, Op. 125, are well known.

As for the Panharmonicon, a mechanical instrument that simulated orchestral sounds, it must have been conceived similarly to the mechanical instruments of the era, with large perforated or punched rolls that were inserted into the central body moved by counterweights or, rather, by large springs wound by a crank. Unfortunately, the instrument was lost in the disastrous bombings of Stuttgart during the Second World War, as were the rolls. However, there exists a rare pre-war photograph in which two rolls can be observed that seem to confirm our hypothesis.

The unusual size of these two rolls, probably conceived in iron or more workable brass, makes us understand how complex the mechanics of the device must have been, also considering that the construction had to take into account the fact that everything had to be easily disassembled and reassembled, since it was designed to be taken on "tour" to various European capitals, as it actually did.

Conclusions

Throughout his life, Beethoven was always a man with a firm eighteenth-century culture. This sensitivity is reflected both in his private life and in his art. In art, Beethoven pushed the sonata form to extreme tension, but he never violated the form, nor did he ever disintegrate the teachings received in his youth, even in the late quartets or the Diabelli variations.

Likewise, in his private life, his choices were always characterized by a stable conservative conception. He had pocket watches, typical of the 18th century, loved sipielhur and mechanical organs. He had glasses of an antiquated style, as well as large "à la Titus" cravats.

What surprises us is the incessant work of the genius, which transcends the fashions of the time and aktualizes a world that disappeared 200 years ago into the mists of time.

THE MANTEL CLOCK PRESERVED AT THE BEETHOVEN HAUS IN BONN

The only clock preserved in Bonn is the mantel clock, made of cherry wood, kept at the BeethovenHaus, H.C. Bodmer Collection. This clock, a gift from Prince Lichnowsky, with a six-o'clock winding mechanism, an eight-day spring, and a contemporary "demi carré" movement of national production, was probably owned by Beethoven during the period 1815-1820.

After his death in March 1827, it passed into the hands of Anton Schindler; finally, we find it in the collection of Carl Meinert in Dessau, before arriving, along with other Beethoven memorabilia, at his birthplace.

The pre-Biedermeier style, the total absence of an alarm or a strike for the hour and half-hour, as was customary at the time, demonstrates to us that the poor deaf man had no need for such a complication.

Strangely, the clock was missing one of the four gilded brass flowers that delimited the enamel dial. (see figure number 000).

In a subsequent photograph, certainly post-restoration, the lack of an additional rosette at the bottom left is noted; this is a real pity, as a mold could easily be made to replace the missing decorations.

The restoration has also partially addressed the canonical damage of clocks of this type: the fractured enamel on the winding hole at six o'clock, as well as the equally inevitable damage to the nine and the three, which indicate a fall in past times. Probably the suspension was also replaced, as the pendulum disc appears offset from its natural position in the center of the front window.

The small bust placed on the apical part could represent a Roman empress or, as results from the observation of other contemporary objects, a simple female representation of Roman Virtue, such as Cornelia or Lucretia, an example of marital fidelity.

THE MANTEL CLOCK PRESERVED AT THE PASQUALATI HAUS IN VIENNA

The second clock under examination is the beautiful mantel clock preserved at the Pasqualati Haus in Vienna. This artifact proves to be a splendid example of German "economical" production from the end of the 18th century: a national movement, with an essential "drop" pendulum, perhaps conceived more for indoor use than to be displayed, the cherry wood base, as well as the four small columns of the same material, place it temporally between 1785 and 1795.

MANTEL CLOCK OF THE PASQUALATI HAUS VIENNA

Also interesting is the enamel dial with fine Roman numerals. Protected by a domed glass, as was customary, it carries small Arabic numbers for the quarters of"

now, strictly following the French tradition of the era.

Screwed to the movement by two small but unsightly screws at three-thirty and nine-thirty, this enamel dial shows the typical minor damage of prolonged use: the crescent moon shape of material detachment at the charge, as well as the fracture on the opening hinge at nine o'clock, which I have already encountered on many models from the period (see figure number 000).

On the back, the usual fire-gilded brass grid partially hides the fabric mesh, which had the dual function of protecting against moving dust and acting as a sound box in clocks equipped with a bell.

THE WALL CLOCK DEPICTED IN TWO PERIOD PHOTOGRAPHS

Two rare period photographs are very interesting, depicting part of furniture that still exists, but above all an clock placed in two different positions.

The first photograph, traced by Dominique Prévot, president of the A.B.F., Association Beethoven France, depicts the clock positioned in a large oblong wooden case of the "Morbier" type, with large glass panels and visible weights.

Although the postcard shows signs of age, the clock, probably dating back to the early 19th century, is still perfectly distinguishable: the white enamel dial bears large Roman numerals. Furthermore, the large bezel, certainly brass-plated, appearing in the center of the hands, is a matter of great interest.

In this type of clock, this rotating bezel, connected to an internal wheel, was intended for regulating the morning alarm. The alarm, operated by its own "T" shaped hammer, struck on the same bell as the chime. In fact, partially hidden by the painted decoration on a wooden base, one can catch a glimpse of the large bell that is absolutely typical of this type of pendulum clock.

Recharging this mechanism was done manually on the two chains that hold the two heavy pinecones, which here are probably cast iron covered in mercury-gilded brass.

From this and the subsequent photograph, it is impossible to conjecture the duration of the charge, although in this type of clock, which can quite easily be defined as "Black Forest" type, the charge must have been eight days.

In the other, very damaged photograph kept at the Beethoven Haus in Bonn,

(Ley, Vol. VI, No. 1144 Location: Archive Room II) the same clock is presented fixed to the wall. This way of placing the machine is very correct, since the mechanism itself was sufficient, being covered on all sides by sheet metal plates, which isolated it from external agents and made transport easy.

It can be conjectured that Beethoven himself used it during his continuous moves from one apartment to another.

The description provided by the Beethoven Haus unfortunately does not help us. We learn the dimensions of the photograph, as well as the presumed date, around 1910, but regarding the object, it is simply described as "Tischuhr", which means wall clock.

THE CLOCK PRESERVED AT THE VIENNA CLOCK MUSEUM

Description of the clock Uhr Museum Wien

Description follows----------------------------------------------------- (omissis)

Tobias Haslinger's clock

Also the clock, which is currently in my possession and belonged to Robert Haslinger, meets these requirements listed above, including an English movement from the early 1800s, a testimony to the commercial exchanges resumed after the war. (See figures 000).

Robert Haslinger, known as Tobias, was born on March 1, 1787, in Zell of Zellhof (Municipality of Bad Zell, near Salzburg, in Upper Austria), and died on June 18, 1842, in Vienna. He was a friend and publisher of Beethoven. After spending his youth in Salzburg, he received his first musical education in the city of Linz, from the famous Franz Xaver Glöggl.

In 1810 we find him in Vienna, and it is precisely during these years that he seems to dedicate himself more assiduously to music, so much so that he manages to have some of his piano compositions published; perhaps also due to his connections within the circle of publishers in the Austrian capital. The turning point was, however, 1814, when he began collaborating with Sigmund Anton Steiner (1773 – 1838) to become his partner two years later.

In 1826, he finally became the director of the Music Publishing House located in Paternostergasse, of which traces still remain today. The direction of the house was eventually succeeded by his son Karl. Numerous are the works of Beethoven published by Haslinger, all from the late catalog, but we cannot forget many early publications by Josef Mayseder, Ignaz Moscheles, Karl Maria von Weber, Louis Spohr, Johann Nepomuk Hummel, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Carl Czerny, Muzio Clementi, but above all the meritorious publication of all

the work of Johann Strauss the Father.

This movement with verge, cone, and chain of suspense is signed Bevil, Ipswich 1825. Bevil was a watchmaker active in London and Ipswich between the late eighteenth and the first thirty years of the nineteenth century.

The verge bridge is finely chased with floral motifs, with a finesse that recalls both the contemporary productions of Markwick Markham, who produced similarly chased specimens to meet the needs of the Ottoman market.

(It should also be noted that the primitive-looking shape simulating a pendulum of the bridge, also excellently engraved) is especially similar to the identical movement found in the contemporary watches of Robinson, active in London during the same years, of which an example dating from 1833 is preserved.

It now seems certain that the ébauche used for Haslinger's watch served as the base for a plethora of retailers, watchmakers, and engravers, given its robustness and adaptability.

The dial, of ivory enamel with Roman numerals, slightly cracked at the six, bears a small oil landscape on the inner bezel. Despite my investigations into the places of Haslinger's life, to this day I have not been able to identify this bucolic castle situated on the banks of a river.

Even the pillars, also called columns or small columns, which are the connecting elements of the plates, with their balustrade shape, only serve to confirm the executive skill of the master watchmaker from Ipswich.

No guarantee engraved inside the generous fire-gilded brass case is noted, as would have been customary, nor could I notice any evident manipulation during the movement overhaul; for all intents and purposes, it seems that the watch has not undergone any repair since 1824!

Inside the back case, an unknown hand wrote on a small scrap of paper: “Zum mein Freude Tobias gut 1824” or “to my friend Tobias, good 1824”. This is followed by an indecipherable signature.

On the back, the inscription “T. Haslinger Wien 1824” is interesting because it follows the graphic styles in vogue on English watches of the period, rather than the austere Gothic script used in German-speaking countries, as can be clearly seen on the reverse of Beethoven's second watch.

Setting aside the particular emotional correspondence between this date and the first performance of the Ninth Symphony Opus 125, it may be even more interesting to note once again the common thread that unites England, Austria, and all the protagonists of this story; perhaps, once again, Moscheles may have been the primary actor in this important gift.

The iconographic sources are also very scarce: there is no portrait from the era depicting Beethoven with a watch, whether wall, mantel, or pocket. However (see figure number 000), Joseph Eduard Teltscher took some sketches of the dying master, and in one of these, a figure can be seen that may be the inner part containing the pendulum of a wall clock (erroneously identified as a violin). Furthermore, it is in an ideal position for being wound from the sickbed. There is no trace left of this clock either.

As for the two pocket watches attributed to Beethoven, the only known sources, as far as I know, are the photographs published by the Beethoven Haus in Bonn, dating from around 1910, as well as the drawing published in the aforementioned article in “Musical Time”.

(PART TO BE REMOVED OR MOVED ELSEWHERE, ALREADY WRITTEN FOR THE PREVIOUS ARTICLE)

the watch of ALEXANDER WHEELOCK THAYER

The history of Sandoz begins in 1530 with the birth of Johannus Sandoz of Locle, in the canton of Neuchâtel, Switzerland. In 1870, Henry Sandoz partnered with Jules E. Sandoz to create the firm ODIN, the family's first watchmaking factory. Immediately, their vocation was to build repeater watches and chronographs and to become pioneers in the standardization of their product.

In 1920, the company Henry Sandoz was renamed Henry Sandoz & Fils as the son Hermann joined the business. In 1926, Henry Sandoz & Fils moved its workshops to Le Chaux-de-Fonds, in the canton of Neuchâtel. Towards the end of those magnificent 1920s, the fame of the Sandoz company extended to India and Pakistan, so much so that the company reached a production of more than one million watches per year.

In 1938, the company changed its name again to H. Sandoz & Co, and later Bezzola & Kocher. Finally, in 1971, it would take its definitive name: Compagnie des Montres Sandoz S.A., which it maintains to this day.

The watch presents itself as a typical large-sized 'savonette' (hunter case), having a diameter of 50 mm and weighing 115 grams.

As an added value, Thayer's heirs also preserved his original two-slot wooden box made of

granate velvet lined watch case, bearing the inscription

Répetition remontoir

AMI Sandoz & fils

91504

Finally, the watch is accompanied by a splendid contemporary marine link chain, of a slightly different color, weighing 38 grams with a lobster clasp, "T" ring and safety loop, a chain that can be seen emerging from Thayer's waistcoat in a splendid photograph from the last years of his life.

The 18K red gold case features a typical shield design on the front, which clearly served to accommodate the intertwined letters of the family crest. On the back, an anonymous guilloché design. The watch's characteristics are engraved on the inside of the case:

Repetition

Remontoir

Ancre leves visibles

22 rubis

Balancier compensateur

Spiral Breguet

N° 99550

That is to say, this watch possesses a striking mechanism for hours and quarters, it has a winding crown to rewind the spring, the lever escapement is visible from the top of the movement, 22 jewels, the balance wheel is composed of two different materials, steel and brass which compensate for thermal expansion and contraction, and it features a hairspring, the so-called "Breguet hairspring," named after the famous watchmaker who invented and patented this particular type of spring. Finally, the consecutive manufacturing number of the watch is reported.

One cannot help but notice at least seven repairs on the inside of the case back cover. It seems that Thayer had a trusted watchmaker, as four out of seven bear the same initials, namely A13084, A30853, A 31327 and A43347. The last one is PW 57374. On the second case back we read: 412873pdl and 425412.

Another engraving is present near the hinge but is illegible and of doubtful interpretation. Finally, engraved with a graver, is the last engraving I noticed on the watch: under the dial, an inscription "dec1896".

The white enamel dial with Roman numerals and a sub-seconds dial at six o'clock is pristine and free of those small veins that enamel is subject to after several decades.

Two of the three needle-type hands are each adorned with three diamonds in a "rose cut."

The repair.

The most evident defect of the watch was the impossibility of winding it: with every attempt to wind, one simply noticed a slipping of its setting. Furthermore, the spring appeared intact. The defect was due to the worn-out center wheel.

The body of the wheel was detached from its delicate rim. In fact, on the dial, even the thin minute hand was wandering. This indicated that upon yet another winding, the wheel suddenly gave way. The spring, no longer held by the body of the first wheel, unwound forcefully, and the resulting whip effect caused the minute hand to jump out of its seat.

In these cases, the typical procedure is to disassemble the central bridge of the gear train and re-pivot the wheel with the appropriate graver. Another defect that was more difficult to identify was the previous removal of the return lever for the grand complication striking mechanism. In fact, upon first listening, only the small repeater functioned, i.e., the quarters, half-hours, and three-quarters, with a typical double hammer sound.

Once these problems were resolved, we proceeded subsequently to the general overhaul of the movement, the replacement of the striking spring, the polishing of the case, and the restoration of its hinge.

At present, the watch is in excellent condition; the movement is perfectly functional, and the case (excluding some small dents on the bezel due to drops) is practically pristine.

Josef MaysederIgnaz MoschelesKarl Maria von WeberLouis SpohrJohann Nepomuk HummelMozartCarl CzernyMuzio ClementiJohann Strauß Padre

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Reply 2 by lory

Posts
106

A truly very interesting article Armando, thank you. It's a pity that the photos and figures mentioned in the article are not there.

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Reply 3 by OrlandiArmando

Posts
234
City
San Biagio di Valpolcevera (Genova)

Dear Lory,

First of all, I am truly happy that the article might have interested you; I will post the PDF of the complete article (in English) that appeared in NBS as soon as possible, despite copyright restrictions. Of course dear Lory, the photos are missing, which however you can see here: http://www.lvbeethoven.it/Avvenimenti/Beethoven-Avvenimenti-Orologi-Beethoven.html It is a hidden page on the site; I am not yet sure if I have all the rights to publish the photos of the clock displayed (not displayed, actually) at the Fitzwilliam Museum.

The photographic sequence of the repair of Beethoven's shelf pendulum clock here: http://www.lvbeethoven.it/Avvenimenti/Beethoven-Avvenimenti-PendolaBeethoven.html You have no idea of the emotion of working on an object that was in Ludwig's last home......

A hug,

A---------------------------

http://www.lvbeethoven.it/Avvenimenti/Beethoven-Avvenimenti-Orologi-Beethoven.htmlhttp://www.lvbeethoven.it/Avvenimenti/Beethoven-Avvenimenti-PendolaBeethoven.html

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Reply 4 by lory

Posts
106

Hi Armando, feel free to be less formal with me. I can imagine your emotion by putting myself in your shoes. To think of laying hands on something that belonged to Beethoven himself.

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Reply 5 by OrlandiArmando

Posts
234
City
San Biagio di Valpolcevera (Genova)

That's perfectly fine. Although I don't think I was very formal, I don't like formality; I think that with a moderate profile and frank, friendly language, one can bridge the distance.

As for the pendolina, yes, yes, it's an emotion! Just imagine, the back was held by a rusty eye-shaped little nail.... to open it, it was necessary to rotate it..... my heart was racing for fear of breaking it in front of everyone. . Furthermore, when I took the object, Director Landemburger opened the display case containing the glasses, the two hussar-shaped bookends, the inkwell and the pens... the razor etc.... in short, all the things you see in books. Life is wonderful, dear Lory. I never would have thought, in my life, that I would come to do this. But it's not a boast, believe me. I always have the feeling that I have been, in the many musical situations I have found myself in (but also in life), simply in the right place at the right time. That's all!

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Reply 6 by Thesimon

Posts
4,504
City
Ariccia, RM

Armando, in my opinion you are always too modest. I, on the other hand, think that if something happens it is always for a reason; there are few times when things happen by pure coincidence. If they chose you to carry out such a task, it is because they thought that you, more than others, had the appropriate skills.

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