Lennox Pluvier Watch Around 1665, King Charles II commissioned the London-based Huguenot watchmaker Isaac Pluvier to create a luxurious, love-themed, gold enamel watch.[1] The King then presented it to the sixteen-year-old Frances Teresa Stuart, one of the greatest beauties to grace the decadent English court.[2] This watch, now known as the Lennox Pluvier Watch, is sumptuously decorated and crowded with expensive complications, including a seconds dial. As such, it is an extraordinary survival: an object of courtly love, a highly important early verge watch in its own right, and one of just three known Pluvier watches.[3] Since their invention around 1500, watches were actively coveted and gifted as objects of splendour to express status and curry court favour.[4] They first appeared in the royal courts of Europe during the 1500s and were owned by monarchs and members of the ruling class – the only people able to afford them. Subsequent developments in watchmaking were largely driven by courtly patronage, fuelled by social competition and the conspicuous consumption of the European ruling classes. Throughout the 1660s, early verge watches continued to circulate as courtly treasures and diplomatic gifts. These timepieces remained extraordinarily expensive and were regarded as the latest technological marvels, even though – by modern standards – they were neither particularly accurate nor especially reliable. Still, they were prestige items: the first fully developed portable timekeepers, admired for their ingenuity as much as for their opulence. The Lennox Pluvier Watch exemplifies this culture. Typical for the finest watches of this period, it is a miniature work of art that also happens to be laden with multiple complications. Watchmakers, such as Pluvier, built successful careers by crafting these tiny luxury timekeepers. Although very little is known of Pluvier, he appears to have been part of a vibrant community of highly skilled Huguenot artisans working in the Blackfriars area of London, and his story is presented here on Clocktime.[5] Tragically, he died in 1665, presumably having succumbed to the Great Plague, in the prime of his career and shortly after completing this horological masterpiece.[6] To fully appreciate the story of any early timekeeper, it is necessary to learn about not only its complexity, but also the wider social-historical context. Fortunately, the provenance of the Lennox Pluvier Watch is well documented, as are the lives of the people through whose hands it initially passed. Let us begin with a guided tour of its numerous complications. A guided tour of the Lennox Pluvier Watch As noted above, the Lennox Pluvier Watch is packed with complications on its dial and backplate. The dial: telling the time and counting the days On the dial is a single straight, blued-steel hand at the disc’s centre. To the modern eye, this is easily mistaken for the hour hand: it is actually the minute hand. It points directly to the thin band of minute markers that surround the green champlevé chapter ring. The hour is instead indicated by a gilt marker affixed to the enamel-painted central disc, which features a reclining Venus and a flying Cupid with a drawn arrow. The marker is positioned at the edge of the disc, by Venus’s foot. The entire disc rotates clockwise, and, as it moves, the marker indicates the hour on the surrounding green chapter ring with Roman numerals. The use of a gilt indicator for the hour was standard practice for the period. A similar indicator can be seen on the King James Portrait Watch, made around 1618 by David Ramsay (exhibited on Clocktime). However, the inclusion of a minute hand on the dial of the Lennox Pluvier Watch is unusual for its time. It was not until the late 1600s and early 1700s that minute hands began to routinely appear on watches. See, for example, the Quarter Repeating Watch No. 144 made by Thomas Tompion in 1697 (coming soon to Clocktime), and the Gold Cylinder Watch made by George Graham in 1733 (exhibited on Clocktime). The two outer rings on the watch’s dial function as a dual-system calendar, indicating the day of the month for both the Gregorian and Julian calendars. The days of the month, numbered 1–30, are represented on the outer blue-champlevé ring. The outermost gold ring displays the corresponding planetary symbols for each day (in blue). (Notably, the 30-day cycle on the watch’s calendar ring makes it difficult to read the calendar during months with 31 days.) The two outer rings are fixed and therefore do not rotate. The date for both calendar systems is shown by two small silvered-indicators. These rotate around the thin silvered band situated between the calendar ring and the chapter ring to mark the passing days. The larger of the two indicators, shaped like a closed hand with a pointed finger, marks the day of the month according to the Gregorian calendar. The second indicator, tiny triangle, marks the day of the month according to the Julian calendar (Use the zoom button below the Clocktime display of the animated Lennox Pluvier Watch to see each pointer in detail.) When this watch was made, the Julian calendar was favoured for use by Protestant nations, such as England, even though it had fallen hopelessly out of sync with solar events, including equinoxes, and major holidays like Easter. During the 1660s, it ran 11 days behind the newer, more accurate Gregorian calendar system. Introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, the Gregorian calendar remedied the inaccuracies of the Julian system by skipping 10 days and implementing a more precise rule for leap years. It was adopted immediately by Catholic countries, including France and Spain. However, many Protestant countries initially rejected it, viewing the change as religiously and politically motivated and an example of papal overreach. When the Lennox Pluvier Watch was made, the Julian calendar lagged 10 days behind the Gregorian calendar. Today, the Julian calendar now lags 13 days behind the Gregorian calendar. This is how it is represented here on Clocktime. The backplate: abundance in every second Pluvier engineered even more complexity into his watch’s backplate. Just below the pendant at the top of the backplate is a beautifully decorated mechanism that allows the owner to vary the speed of the watch. This stationary setup mechanism is adjusted by hand. It comprises a ringed-steel balance with blued-steel openwork installed above another exquisitely painted enamel disc. This disc features the blindfolded figure of the Roman goddess Fortuna, who is surrounded by free-floating objects representing the world’s abundance. This setup disc is fixed; it does not rotate. It is manually operated by moving the hand, which in turn increases or decreases the pressure on the line of the watch’s internal fusee, thus making the watch run faster or slower as needed. Along the diameter of the backplate is a pierced and intricately engraved silver balance cock, which protects the balance wheel keeping time beneath it. The balance cock features the figure of Mercury holding a snaked staff and wearing his winged hat and boots. Centred on the lower half of the backplate is a large subsidiary seconds dial. This was a highly innovative and unusual feature for its time.[7] At this stage, however, such a mechanism could maintain accuracy for only brief durations, as horological precision had not yet evolved sufficiently for a seconds hand to be truly useful.[8] Thus, this complication was essentially a delightful and costly novelty. Still, it is noteworthy as a reflection of Pluvier’s ambition; it is certainly one of the earliest known seconds dials on an English watch.[9] The subsidiary seconds dial features yet another meticulously rendered enamel painting on its disc. In it, the figure of Chronos, the Greek god of time, transports worldly goods with him across the River Styx. The disc itself is fixed, and the single, blued-steel seconds hand rotates anticlockwise to indicate the second. Although no other surviving Pluvier watches have seconds dials, it appears that Pluvier devoted himself to grappling with the engineering of this particular complication.[10] Pluvier’s will, written in September 1665 and proved in January 1665/1666, includes six watches with seconds hands in an inventory list.[11] Courtly love in Charles II’s royal court The story of the Lennox Pluvier Watch is set at the heart of King Charles II’s circle, one of the most lavish royal courts in English history. What is more, the curation of the watch’s decoration and complications appears to speak directly to Charles’s romantic designs upon Frances Teresa Stuart, as well as to her unique identity and status. Who was La Belle Stuart? Frances Teresa Stuart was the daughter of Sophia and Walter Stuart, a distant relative of the royal house of Stuart, who served as a physician in the court of Queen Henrietta Maria’s (b. 1609, d. 1669). In 1641, the year preceding the first English Civil War, the Queen sought support abroad for her husband King Charles I and even attempted to instigate a coup to overthrow his enemies, the Parliamentarians. In 1644, when the Royalist cause became too perilous, she was forced to flee to France; her entire court, including Walter and Sophia Stuart, accompanied her into exile. The Stuarts’ daughter Frances Teresa was born in exile in Paris in 1647. She grew up in the French court, speaking French and steeped in French culture and custom. Although she was not Catholic, she undoubtedly grew up celebrating religious holidays with the nobles at court according to the Gregorian calendar (discussed above), which was the calendar system used by France and other Catholic nations. After the Restoration of Charles II in 1660, numerous Royalist exiles began to make their way home to England. In 1663, the Stuarts set sail for England. Up to this point, the French court was the only home that Frances Teresa, now sixteen years of age, had ever known. Shortly after the Stuarts arrived in London, Frances Teresa made her debut at the English court. This beautiful and, to all intents and purposes, culturally French teenager had landed at the epicentre of one of Europe’s most decadent royal circles. Fortunately, she would not have been completely ‘at sea’ in this new environment, having been raised in the most opulent court of all: that of Louis XIV, the Sun King. La Belle Stuart catches the eye of the ‘merry monarch’ When Charles II was crowned King of England, Scotland and Ireland in May 1660, the political instability and economic austerity of the previous decades cast a long shadow. Britain was just emerging from under what had been an extremely tumultuous period, which included the English Civil Wars from 1642 to 1651, the execution of Charles I in 1649, and eleven years of Republican rule under Oliver Cromwell – the Commonwealth period. In every sense, the Restoration was seen as a glorious new beginning, and this prompted a dynamic shift in culture. In this spirit, the new King reintroduced the system of royal patronage to advance the arts and sciences, and immediately transformed the culture of his royal court. Consequently, London became a centre of fashion and a locus of art and intellect. Theatres reopened, with plays featuring women on the stage for the first time.[12] Lively taverns and pubs were frequented, and city parks were alive with activity. This was an era of pleasure- and knowledge-seeking, in which creativity and scientific inquiry truly thrived. For the remodelling of his entourage, Charles took direct inspiration from the intrigue and glamour of the French royal court, which he and the Stuarts knew so well. Having spent much of his exile in France, he introduced many French fashions and diversions to the formerly staid English courts. The English court soon transformed into a bawdy playground for the nobility – an arena of pleasure in which the libertine reigned supreme. Charles II deliberately embodied this persona, surrounding himself with a coterie of young men who, like him, were willing to ignore moral orthodoxies in their devotion to sensual pursuit. Within his court, Charles encouraged ‘free love’ and flouted tradition. Even the women of the court were encouraged to be witty, brazen and sexually liberated. In this milieu, the nobility gambled, drank and revelled. Adultery became the norm – especially for the King, who enjoyed innumerable sexual liaisons with prostitutes and courtesans, and officially acknowledged at least 14 mistresses over the course of his reign. Although Frances Teresa Stuart was young upon her introduction to the English royal court, her beauty, connections and experience of its French equivalent equipped her to navigate this decadent new environment. She was an instant sensation. Admired for her beauty and reputed wit, she quickly acquired the nickname La Belle Stuart and caught the wandering eye of the King. Apparently, he immediately fell ‘in love’ – as he was prone to do – and set about pursuing her. By all accounts, Charles’s obsession ran deep, and he even toyed with the idea of divorce so that he could marry her. However, she refused to become his mistress and successfully resisted his advance throughout all her years at court. Stuart was admired and pursued by numerous men besides the King. The diarist and naval official Samuel Pepys remarked in his entry for 13 July 1663 that ‘with her sweet eye, little Roman nose, and excellent taille [figure], [she] is now the greatest beauty I ever saw’. She was courted by the Duke of Buckingham and the son of the Earl of Bristol, Francis Digby; the latter’s unrequited love for her was famously celebrated by the poet John Dryden. Eventually, it was Charles Stewart (b. 1639, d. 1672), 3rd Duke of Richmond and 6th Duke of Lennox, who won her heart. Stewart was a fourth cousin of the King. By 1667, Stuart and Stewart were involved in a clandestine relationship. Apparently, this was at the time the King was still considering the possibility of a divorce from his Queen, Catherine of Braganza, to enable him to make Frances Teresa his wife. In an attempt to sour the King’s affection for La Belle Stuart, Lady Castlemaine – then the Duchess of Cleveland and his premier mistress – led him to Frances Teresa’s apartment at midnight while her lover was present. Furious at the discovery, the King promptly expelled his romantic rival from court. Fearing that Charles might force them into separate marriages, the devoted couple eloped, marrying in March 1667. Yet, even after her marriage, the King’s affections for La Belle Stuart did not wane, as she remained a firm favourite of his until the end of his life in 1685. Courtly love: the gift of the watch In an effort to woo Stuart and convince her to become his mistress, Charles II probably presented the Lennox Pluvier Watch to her during her early years at court. It remains unclear whether the King already had the watch to hand or had it specially commissioned with Stuart in mind. The royal practice of gifting timepieces to secure favour was not unusual, and the English court has a long tradition of commissioning and exchanging such objects. For example, Queen Elizabeth I used the presentation of elaborate timepieces as a diplomatic tool.[13] In her article ‘Gifts of imperfection: Elizabeth I and the politics of timepieces’, Miranda Wilson argues that Dudley and those associated with him used the occasion of the New Year’s Day Gift Rolls to present to the Queen various forms of timepieces rather than any other type of gift.[14] Also, King James VI and I probably commissioned the outstanding King James Portrait Watch, made by David Ramsay around 1618, and probably presented this watch to an important personage who could make use of its Gregorian calendar. The ill-fated King Charles I, father of Charles II, commissioned his fair share of watches as well. You can read the story of his contributions to horology here. Charles II’s penchant for gifting timepieces to his love interests is certainly well documented. In 1677, the King commissioned a superb clock by Thomas Tompion, which he gave to his mistress, the above-mentioned Lady Castlemaine.[15] (She had caught the King’s eye around the same time that he was pursuing Stuart.) This clock is now known as the Castlemaine Tompion.[16] Reportedly, Charles also presented a silver watch as a tournament prize. The description of this royal trophy makes it sound very similar to the Silver Chaise Clock-watch, exhibited on Clocktime. This early verge watch was made by his royal clockmaker Edward East around 1660. Regarding the commissioning of the Lennox Pluvier Watch, the selection and arrangement of its decorative features and complications appear to have been considered carefully down to the last detail. The love-themed enamel painting on the centre disc of its dial directly speaks to Stuart’s beauty and the King’s desire for her. Venus reclines with her arms raised, poised to receive Cupid’s arrow as he hovers above, ready to release it. The imagery clearly alludes to the idea of impending love, with the receptive figure of Venus representing Stuart. The dual-calendar complication also appears to have been included for Stuart’s benefit. This would have been a very useful feature: as a Protestant, she could consult the Julian date for the correct observance of the English New Year. The watch’s Gregorian calendar is a thoughtful and practical inclusion. It provided accurate dates for equinoxes, saints’ days, and other significant religious and celestial events. It also may have served as a tangible reminder of Stuart’s time in France and of the friends that she had left behind. Moreover, her years in France formed a point of personal connection with the King, who likewise spent much of his early life there (as mentioned above). Date of making and presentation Based on the royal precedence for the gifting of timepieces, the subject matter of the watch’s love-themed dial, and the inclusion of a complex dual-calendar system, it seems likely that the watch was specially commissioned as a gift for Stuart. Anecdotal evidence also suggests that Stuart received the watch while serving as a lady-in-waiting to Charles II’s queen, Catherine of Braganza, between 1663 and 1665 – precisely when the King’s obsession with the teenager was at its most intense phase. Apparently, his infatuation was reportedly so extreme that, when Catherine’s life lay in the balance due to illness in 1663, rumours circulated that he intended to marry Stuart should the Queen die. Based on this information, Charles appears to have commissioned and presented the watch to Stuart sometime between her arrival at court in 1663 and Pluvier’s death in 1665. Lennoxlove After her marriage in 1667, Stuart – now Duchess of Richmond and Lennox – returned to court, where she lived out the rest of her days. As discussed above, she remained a favourite of Charles II, even after she was disfigured by smallpox in 1669. In 1702, at the age of fifty-five, the Duchess died. After her death, her trustees purchased Lethington Castle in Haddingtonshire for the benefit of her family. In her will, she stipulated that the property was to be renamed Lennox’s Love. Over time, the name was gradually shortened to Lennoxlove. The Lennox Pluvier Watch is named as such because, following the Duchess‘s death, it was housed in Lennoxlove along with other precious objects that had once belonged to her. There it stayed until the house was sold to the 14th Duke of Hamilton in 1946. The watch remained in the possession of the Duchess’s family until it was sold at auction at Sotheby’s on 25 September 2005 (Lot No. 207). Dr Kristin Leith, Curator of Clocktime December 2025 End notes [1] Carter 2021, 46–49, Catalogue No. 10; Garnier and Hollis 2018, 201, Catalogue No. 41; Taylor et al. 2020, 16 Exhibition No.2:3. [2] Hartmann 1924. Stuart is first mentioned in the Diary of Samuel Pepys in the entry for 8 February 1662/1663, when Pepys introduces gossip from Captain Ferres detailing the mock marriage of Stuart to Lady Castlemaine. [3] The other two known Pluvier watches are in store at the British Museum and can be viewed upon request. They are the amber and gilt brass-cased verge watch in the form of a pear drop, made between 1645 and 1655 (Museum number 1958,1201.2309), and the gold and painted enamel cased verge watch made between 1645 and 1655 (Museum number 1958,1201.3128). It is possible that other Pluvier watches have survived but are undocumented, kept in private collection. [4] Koeppe 2019; Plassmeyer 2019. [5] Pluvier apprenticed with the famous Huguenot watchmaker David Boquet, who worked in the Blackfriars area (Finch et al. 2024; Loomes 2006). This community of Huguenot makers in London took root after the first wave of Huguenot immigration to Britain following the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in Paris (24–25 August 1572). That event triggered widespread violence against Protestants across France, driving many to seek refuge across the Channel. [6] In his will, dated to 1665, Pluvier describes himself as ‘being Sicke in Body’. Stephen’s (1962, 21) suggests that this description indicates that the watchmaker died from plague. [7] Carter 2021, 48; Garnier and Hollis 2018, 201. [8] Pluvier seems to have been grappling with counting the seconds as a matter of practice, based on ‘several seconds watches’ listed in an inventory attached to his will of 1665 (Stevens 1962). Also see Leith (forthcoming) for an exploration of the state-of-play for English seconds watches during the 1660s. [9] Horologist and collector Dr John C. Taylor argues in the video that accompanies this exhibit that the Lennox Pluvier Watch is probably the first English watch to have a seconds dial and hand. [10] The other two surviving Pluvier watches, which are in store at the British Museum, do not have seconds dials. See the amber and gilt brass-cased verge watch in the form of a pear drop, made between 1645-1655 (Museum number 1958,1201.2309), and the gold and painted enamel cased verge watch made between 1645-1655 (Museum number 1958,1201.3128), both at the British Museum. Also see Cantor 2017. [11] Stevens 1962. [12] The Worshipful Company of Clockmakers even saw fit to amend the apprenticeship indenture contract, warning apprentices away from the dangers of cavorting with women, particularly actresses. [13] Bent 1892; Danson 2009; Wood 2015. Read more about the magnificent organ clock that Elizabeth gifted to the Ottoman ruler, around 1598. [14] Wilson 2020. [15] Carter 2021, 46. [16] Carter, J. ‘Exceptional English Clocks’ Collection: Exhibit No. 2’; Dawson et al. 1994, 347–352 and 444–446, pls 23 and 24, 498–502; Evans et al. 2013, 384–385. References Bent, T. (editor). 1892. Early Voyages and Travels in the Levant: I. The Diary of Master Thomas Dallam, 1599–1600. II. Extracts from the Diaries of Dr. John Covel, 1670–1679. With Some Account of the Levant Company of Turkey Merchants (Issue 87 of Works issued by the Hakluyt Society). New York, NY: B. Franklin. Cantor, A. 2017. ‘MrWatchMaster visits: the British Museum – Time in reserve’ in MrWatchMaster https://www.mrwatchmaster.com/mrwatchmaster-visits-the-british-museum-time-in-reserve/ Carter, J. 2021. The John C Taylor Collection: Part II (Selling Exhibition Catalogue, Carter Marsh & Co.). Winchester: Carter Marsh & Co. Carter, J. ‘Exceptional English Clocks’ Collection: Exhibit No. 2’. https://www.cartermarsh.com/product/exhibit-no-2-the-silver-tompion-circa-1677/ Danson, L. 2009. ‘The Sultan’s organ: Presents and self-presentation in Thomas Dallam's “Diary”’ in Renaissance Studies 23(5): 639–658. Evans, J., J. Carter and B. Wright. 2013. Thomas Tompion – 300 Years: A celebration of the life and work of Thomas Tompion. Stroud, Gloucestershire: Walter Lane Publishing. Finch A. A., V. J. Finch and A. W. Finch. 2024. A directory of Early English Clockmakers and Apprentices. https://adrianfinchblog.wordpress.com/clockmakers/directory-of-early-clockmakers-and-apprentices/ Garnier, R. and L. Hollis. 2018. Innovation & Collaboration: The early development of the pendulum clock in London. Isle of Man: Fromanteel Ltd. Hartmann, C. H. 1924. La Belle Stuart: Memoirs of Court and Society in the Times of Frances Teresa Stuart Duchess of Richmond and Lennox. New York, NY, USA: E. P. Dutton & Co. Koeppe, W. 2019. Making Marvels: Science and splendour at the courts of Europe. New York, NY: Metropolitan Museum of Art. Loomes, B. 2006. Watchmakers and Clockmakers of the World. London: N.A.G. Press. Pepys, S., R. Latham and W. Matthews. The Diary of Samuel Pepys: A new and complete translation. London: G. Bell and Sons. Plassmeyer, P. 2019. ‘Scientific instruments as courtly objects’ in Making Marvels: Science and splendour at the courts of Europe. New York, NY: Metropolitan Museum of Art. Stevens, J. C. 1962. ‘The Will of Isaack Pluvier: Containing an inventory of a London clockmaker’s stock just prior to the Great Fire’ in Antiquarian Horology 1:4, 18–21. Taylor, J. C. and K. Leith (with contributions from T. Phillipson and K. Neate). 2020. The Luxury of Time: Clocks from 1500–1800. Isle of Man: Fromanteel Ltd. Wilson, M. 2020. ‘Gifts of imperfection: Elizabeth I and the politics of timepieces’ in Explorations in Renaissance Culture 46(1): 44–56. Wood, J. L. 2015. ‘An organ’s metamorphosis: Thomas Dallam’s sonic transformations in the Ottoman Empire’ in Journal for Early Modern Cultural Studies 4: 81–105. Further reading Britten, F. J. 1986. Britten’s Old Clocks and Watches and Their Makers: A history of styles in clocks and watches and their mechanisms (ninth edition). London: Bloomsbury Books.
