King James Portrait Watch Scottish watchmaker David Ramsay was commissioned around 1618 to make this exceptional astrological watch – a mechanical marvel and work of art unto itself.[1] It is so complex that it rivals many modern complication watches with its appearance and number of indications. Typically for its time, it was made to be worn as an ornament, on a chain around the waist or neck. It was extremely expensive, and the inclusion of King James VI and I's royal portrait and motto indicates that it was most likely commissioned by the King himself, who was also Ramsay’s royal patron. It was probably gifted by the King. To whom, we do not know. Indications On its dial face, the watch gives seven indications for Time of day Annual calendar Sign of the zodiac Day of the week Lunar phase Lunar date Ruling planet Each of the underlying mechanisms was engineered using complex mathematics to get the multiple gears to work together. Occupying the top and bottom halves of the dial face are two large dials: the annual calendar disc on top, and the time dial on the bottom. The calendar disc has a silver outer ring with red wax-filled numbers: 1–31 for the day of the month. Inside this is a gilt ring engraved with the names of the 12 months in French. Mounted on this is a fleur-de-lis blued steel pointer that indicates the day of the month. Within the gilt ring is a beautifully filed rotating gilt centre disc with the figures of the zodiac (e.g. the twins for Gemini, the crab for cancer, etc.). Radiating out from the centre is the blued-steel fleur-de-lis headed hand which indicates the sign of the zodiac and its corresponding month. The leaf-engraved space between the months of December and January, as well as the decorative filler between the correspondent zodiac figures, indicates that the watch was designed to count the days according to the Gregorian calendar, in which New Year’s Day is on 1 January. At the time, it was only the Catholic nations that used the Gregorian calendar. Protestant realms, including England and Scotland, used the Julian calendar, in which New Year’s Day falls on 25 March – the date of the Annunciation of our Lord to the Blessed Virgin Mary, also known as ‘Lady Day’. When James VI became King of Scotland, he proclaimed that from 1600 the New Year would start on 1 January. Yet, upon becoming King of England in 1603 (after the death of his god mother Elizabeth I), he made no such changes in England. This meant that England and Scotland ran on different calendars. For three months each year, the two nations even had different years. This was the case from 1600 to 1752, when an act of Parliament, the King George II Act, decreed that the countries and colonies of the British Empire would begin the new year on 1 January going forward. Horologist Dr John C. Taylor argues that the use of the Gregorian calendar on this watch, which was made around 1618, suggests that it was not designed to be used in England (a country that used the Julian calendar at the time). Perhaps the King specified a preference for the Gregorian calendar as part of the watch’s design, or the watch was gifted someone to someone living in a country that used the Gregorian calendar. The time dial on the bottom half of the dial face also has a beautifully pierced floral gilt rotating centre disc. Its swirls are less than half a millimetre wide, all precision filed. The miniature files that were used to create the disc would also have been handcrafted. The swirled disc is enclosed by a silver chapter ring with red wax-filled Roman numerals and fleur-de-lis half hour markers. A blued-steel hour hand rotates along the chapter ring to indicate the time. A letter-box shaped weekday aperture is on the centre left side of the watch’s dial face. It reveals the days of the week. Names, symbols, and a figure of the associated god for each day of the week are engraved and filled in with red wax on the rotating disc below, for example, the goddess Luna for Moonday/Monday, along with the sign for the moon. A fixed blued-steel fleur-de-lis pointer indicates the name of the weekday, visible in the aperture, and the disc’s direction of rotation. Opposite the weekday aperture, on the right side, is the circular moon phase aperture. The disc below rotates to reveal a pictorial representation of the lunar phase for the given day. Just above this is a small, squared moon-day aperture that reveals the age of the moon in days. A blued-steel pointer is mounted on the dial and points to the moon-day aperture. On the lower half of the dial face, adjacent to the IIII on the time dial, is another small letterbox-shaped aperture which presents the planet hour (used in astrology to find the ruling deity of the present hour), for example ♄ (the ancient sign for Saturn). The movement The watch has a gilt brass oval full-plate movement with verge escapement and three-wheel train. The movement has a gut fusee, and the mainspring is set up by a ratchet-and-click arrangement. The so-called 'Egyptian’ pillars in the movement are miniature works of art. Exactly how the V-shaped piercing was rendered with such precision by hand and by candlelight without the aid of machines or spectacles boggles the mind. The design of the dial plate best represents Ramsay’s mechanical genius. Complex calculations were needed to achieve the ratios necessary to ensure that the rotations of the discs for the hours, days, weeks, months, zodiac and moon synchronised. Ramsay had to figure out and map out by hand how these complex gears should precisely mesh together, and how the motion would end up in the correct position before any of the metal components were manufactured. Mounted on the backplate is the cock, which supports the pivot end of the balance wheel arbor. The arbor is pinned, rather than screwed, onto the backplate, because screws had not been developed when this watch was made. To achieve this, watchmakers of the day had to make their own custom drill bits and reamer to drill the cross-hole and ream it to take the tapered pin. It is staggeringly impressive that they were able to get the drill so close, yet parallel, to the backplate. After all the engraving was finished, the zodiac and hour discs, and the top and bottom plates with the brass movement wheels, were carefully gilded with mercury. The engraving – a French connection Ramsay employed the outstanding Flemish engraver Gérard de Heck to decorate the watch’s gilt-and-silver case. We know this because de Heck’s signature, De Heck Scul, is engraved on the case, showcased inside a little tablet held by a cherub. This is highly unusual, as the signatures of engravers (as well as the other artisans who collaborated with clock- and watchmakers) rarely appear on other early timepieces. De Heck was active between around 1608 and 1629. The outside of the silver case, features scenes from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. The top front cover features scenes from Book 2 and is labelled METAMORP: LIVRE 2. The bottom cover features scenes from Book 4 and is labelled METAMORP: LIVRE 4. The use of the French Livre for ‘book’, rather than the Latin Liber, is perplexing. Why would French be used for writing the name and book title of the Roman author, Ovid, especially when Latin was the preferred language for literature as well as inscriptions on early horological timepieces? Also, the use of French did not preclude the use of Latin elsewhere on the watch: de Heck engraved the King’s motto in Latin below his portrait on the inside of the back cover, and Ramsay used the typical doggerel Latin in his signature. Thus, the use of French and Latin on the watch is unusual and inconsistent. At the very least, the use of French in the engraving (and on the annual calendar on the dial plate) indicates a deliberate preference for French over Latin in this instance. This suggests several possible scenarios. Perhaps the recipient of the watch was French or favoured reading in French. Another possibility is that the watch was manufactured in France. Taylor argues that it was more likely that de Heck produced this engraving in Blois, France – where he was based before moving to St Martin-in-the-Fields in London in 1618. Whatever the case, Ramsay’s understanding of design and aesthetic has clear links to France. He spent time in Paris before King James called him to London, and he certainly refined his watchmaking skills while there.[2] Indeed, Taylor argues that it appears most likely that, during his time in Paris, Ramsay was trained by and worked for King Henry IV’s watchmaker Denis Martinot. The watch’s links to France, a Catholic nation, is also supported by the use of the Gregorian calendar on its annual calendar disc, discussed above. The logistics of manufacturing the watch in Paris are explored below. The case also features a bearded figure of Chronos brandishing his scythe on the III side, and St James wearing his sunhat and clutching his sword between the floral branches on the IX side. These engravings are also filled in with red wax. The silver band on the case is decorated with floral engraving. The King’s portrait The most glorious element of de Heck’s engraving is the portrait of King James VI and I, which is revealed inside the silver back cover. It includes his Royal Coat of Arms with the King’s motto in Latin, Beati Pacifici (Blessed are the Peacemakers). The portrait engraving is picked out in red wax. The King’s portrait is uncannily similar to an illustration of the King by Simon de Passe, which appears in Baziliologia, a series of portraits of British monarchs published in 1618. The only difference between the two is that de Passe portrays the King in a very fine hat, while he is hatless in de Heck’s rendition.[3] Because de Heck’s engraving appears to be based on de Passe’s illustration, Taylor has dated the watch to around 1618. A spelling mistake Ramsay’s signature is engraved on the bottom plate of the watch. It reads Davis Ramsay Scottes Me Fecit. In this case, ‘Scottes’ clearly means ‘Scott’ and functions as a descriptor. Hence in English the signature reads ‘David Ramsay the Scott made me’. ‘Scottes’ is misspelled. The correct Latin for Scott as a descriptor is ‘Scotus’. Ramsay probably received formal training in Latin as part of his education at St Andrew’s Grammar School.[4] Surely, he was aware of the correct form, especially as other watches with his signature have the correct Scotus. See Ramsay’s silver star-shaped verge watch, made around 1625, at the Science Museum in London (Collection: The Worshipful Company of Clockmakers, Object No. L2015-3086) and his silver pocket watch, made around 1615, at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh (Museum Ref. H.NL 63). It is unclear if the use of ‘Scottes’ is a case of deliberate phonetic spelling, which is characteristic of English during the 1600s, or simply a spelling mistake. Was the error the work of a subcontracted signature engraver who did not do his due diligence, and did Ramsay even supervise the final details of the watch? Made in Paris? Making a complex watch such as this one required thousands of hours of labour. It also required access to the credit to pay for materials and labour, especially the hiring of employees and sub-contractors such as de Heck. It is not known how Ramsay managed or organised his manufacturing process, as no invoices for any of his clocks or watches survive. How was this complex watch financed, and when and where was it made? Ramsay’s lack of cash flow and chronic financial problems are well documented.[5] It would have been difficult for him to pay anyone he employed or subcontracted on an ongoing basis. It is also unlikely that he would have had the credit to finance the materials and labour associated with this watch. Taylor argues that Ramsay’s lack of cash flow, the use of the French LIVRE on the silver case engraving, the use of the Gregorian calendar on the annual calendar disc, and the spelling mistake on the signature all strongly suggest that Ramsay subcontracted the making of this watch. Calling upon his expertise in business and manufacturing, Taylor has explored the possibility of there having been a financial contract for the construction of the watch between King James and King Henry IV of France. He posits that perhaps King Henry engaged his watchmaker Denis Martinot in the task, while Ramsay acted as an agent on behalf of James. Martinot was the French king’s watchmaker from 1613 to 1618, so his dates of service overlap with when the watch was probably manufactured. This type of arrangement would certainly go towards explaining how the watch was financed. If Ramsay alone had been responsible for this, he would have run the risk of waiting years before being reimbursed by King James, who was notorious for late payment. Adding credence to this scenario is the likelihood that Ramsay had an established working relationship with Martinot. During his time in Paris, Ramsay was associated with and may have worked for the French watchmaker. Regarding the date of manufacture for the watch, around 1618, we know that de Heck, the watch’s engraver, did not arrive in London until 1618, the same year that de Passe’s illustration of the King was published in Baziliologia – the illustration upon which de Heck’s engraving of the King is based. We also know that the gilding of the watch’s movement and discs did not take place until after de Heck’s engraving was finished. Taylor argues that it is inconceivable that all the work involved in manufacturing the watch (the engraving of the four sides of the case covers, the case band and the miniature discs for the week, the planets and the age and phase of the moon; the hand-filed gears; and the gilding of the movement and discs) was performed in London after de Heck arrived in 1618. Based on this, he argues that is most likely that all the watch’s engraving and gilding were completed in Blois before de Heck left France, thus dating the watch to 1618 or earlier. It is certainly possible, but not provable, that Taylor's theory is correct: that the King James Portrait Watch was financed and manufactured in France in 1618 or shortly before. A similar scenario is suggested for another of Ramsay’s timepieces, (see Ramsay’s 1610–1615 table clock the Victoria and Albert Museum, London, Accession No. M.7-1931), in which the case is attributed to France and the movement to London.[6] However, it is also possible, although the timing it tight, that de Heck did the engraving upon arrival in London, after the publication of de Passe's portrait of King James, which was not published until 1618. Questions remain In sum, the use of Catholic and French elements on the watch was a deliberate choice, but it does not automatically correlate to a Catholic-leaning French manufacturing location. King James' religious affiliation was complicated. He was raised Presbyterian. Then, in 1600, he was baptised Catholic and implemented the use of the Gregorian calendar in Scotland. However, after becoming King of England in 1603, he tended to lean Anglican for the rest of his reign. This was politically prudent. The deliberate use of the Gregorian system on the watch could represent a number of scenarios. Perhaps the watch was gifted to a Scott, or someone living in Scotland, or another Protestant realm. Perhaps James (and Ramsay) personally favoured this system and the use of French words rather than Latin words. Ramsay did have established ties to France, and France and Scotland were historically allies. Also, there were no standards for clock- and watchmaking in London, because no guild or regulation of this trade existed at the time. While a strong French and Catholic influence for the design of the watch is clear, a French origin cannot be proven. Without invoicing and documentation of the watch's manufacture and early provenance, we cannot know it origins or affiliations. Thus, questions remain unanswered, and a date of around 1618 will have to suffice. End Notes [1] Cuss 2008, 34–35, pl. 10. [2] Finch et al. 2019. [3] Cuss 2008, 34. [4] Finch et al. 2019, 179. [5] Finch et al. 2019. [6] Taylor disagrees with both these attributions. He argues that the movement is very much in the French style and was probably made before Ramsay was summoned back to London by the King in 1610, when he established his workshop in Westminster. Also, there is an engraved scene on the bottom plate of the case depicting a Catholic cardinal and three friars watching the proceedings in horror as King James VI and I and his two sons, the Princes Henry and Charles, hold the Pope’s nose to a grindstone. It is highly unlikely that such blatant anti-papist sentiment would be produced and tolerated in France, a devoutly Catholic nation. References Cuss, T. C. 2008. The English Watch 1585–1970. Woodbridge: Antique Collectors Club. Dawson, P. G., C. B. Drover and D. W. Parkes. 1994 [1982]. Early English Clocks: a discussion of domestic clocks up to the beginning of the eighteenth century. Woodbridge: The Antique Collectors’ Club. Finch, A. A., V. J. Finch and A. W. Finch. 2019. ‘David Ramsay, c. 1580–1659’ in Antiquarian Horology 40:2. Jagger, C. 1988. The Artistry of the English Watch. London, Newton Abbot: David & Charles. Lloyd, H. Alan. 1962. Gothic Clocks – Antique Collector. Loomes, B. 2014. Clockmakers of Britain: 1286-1700. Mayfield, Ashbourne: Mayfield Books. Source Baziliologia: A Booke of Kings (illustrations by Simon de Passe). 1618. London, Compton Holland.
