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Academy in 1772. John Marriott of the Clockmakers’ Company made the clock mechanism, and goldsmith Lewis Pantin crafted the elaborate gilt-metal casing.
Chinese zimingzhong makers
It was not long before clockmaking centres grew up across China where skilled artisans re-created, adapted and made their own zimingzhong. The most important ones built up around the port of Guangzhou itself, with its large community of skilled makers.
Using local talent was cheaper than importing from Europe, and zimingzhong could be made to the emperor’s specific instructions.
The makers built on China’s tradition of mechanical knowledge dating back thousands of years before zimingzhong arrived. As long ago as the 11th century Song Su (1020–1101) had designed a water-powered astronomical clock tower featuring the first known example of a mechanical escapement (a device for regulating a timekeeper). But it appears the knowledge was lost over time and the types of mechanisms within European zimingzhong would have appeared new to most people in China in the 1700s.
Blue enamel
Some of the Chinese-made zimingzhong from Guangzhou can be identified through their blue enamel decoration used to cover a metal such as copper or silver. To create the enamel, the maker formed a powdered glass paste, mixing it with cobalt oxide, which gave it a deep blue colour. Glass paste was then applied to the metal and heated at a high temperature, fusing it to the surface. Another Chinese feature was the use of kingfisher
feathers on the clock. The complex and delicate process of attaching feathers to metal is known as (dian cui, a dipping of blue) which became particularly popular during the Ming and Qing dynasties. Craftspeople probably glued the feathers to a backing sheet before delicately bonding this to the surface of the clock.
Lost in translation
With such a cross-cultural trade there were often mishaps on both sides. When it came to British zimingzhong designed for the Chinese market little was known of the Far East. Most people in Britain had never met someone from China, nor travelled there themselves. Designers made assumptions about Chinese tastes based on European travel writing and imported Chinese products – and by using their, generally flawed, imaginations.
With its turbaned figure and tasselled tent, Indian in concept, the zimingzhong (below) reflects some of the misconceptions of China in the 1700s. Equally, when the Qianlong emperor ordered Guangzhou makers to reproduce British zimingzhong mistakes were also made, such as one example made by London clockmaker Timothy Williamson, which shows the name and place on the dial are upside down.
Zimingzhong swan song
In 1796, the Qianlong Emperor’s son, the Jiaqing Emperor, ascended to the throne. Unlike his father he saw expensive zimingzhong as a waste of money and the British trade soon faded. However, zimingzhong continued to be used in the Forbidden City and by China’s elite. Today, a permanent exhibition of more than 1,500 amazing zimingzhong inspires millions of visitors each year at The Palace Museum in Beijing.
