20 years in the making, this complex 1870s animatronic clock still delights viewers
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Version 0 of 1. My family is in possession of a journal started in 1879 by my great-great-grandmother Cora Barnum Lewis, a farm wife. She and her husband raised 10 children in Lincolnia, on the Fairfax-Alexandria line. The journal is rich with details of their daily lives. On Jan. 13, 1879, she wrote about her husband’s trip into Washington: “While he was in town he went to see a wonderful clock which is being exhibited. It was made by a man whose home is in [Pennsylvania]. . . . It has a good many figures which at certain intervals appear from the interior. At a certain minute a bell rings and the Apostles appear from a side door and pass in procession before Jesus at the middle door and all bow in passing except Peter. Meanwhile Satan looks down on them from a window above and when Judas approaches he jumps down and follows closely behind him. . . . Admittance 10 cents.” I find this entry fascinating. Can you tell me any more about this display? — Jenni Ford, Falls Church The clock was known as “the 8th Wonder of the World” and — like the other seven wonders — it seems to have impressed nearly everyone who saw it. It was the creation of Stephen Decatur Engle (1837-1921), who devoted decades to fabricating several versions of the elaborate contraption. Engle learned watchmaking in Scranton, Pa., before settling in Hazleton, where he made jewelry and watch cases and practiced “self-taught dentistry,” according to a 1990 article by Thomas J. Bartels in the journal of the National Association of Watch & Clock Collectors. Engle began work on his clock in 1857, devoting his free time over the next 20 years to it. He fashioned the parts himself, even mixing his own alloy for the mechanical movements that drove the action. The central tower of the wood-cased clock is 11 feet high. At the top, 12 nine-inch-high Apostles — their faces made of wax — process past Jesus, who gives each a nod. Peter turns away, a reminder of Christ’s prediction that the Apostle would deny him three times. Satan pops out from two windows, following Judas. A Roman soldier marches back and forth on a balcony and the three Marys appear. Below, above the clock’s dial, figures depict the Ages of Man: Youth, Manhood, Old Age. Father Time turns an hourglass. A skeleton — Death — sounds the hour by striking a thigh bone on a skull. Another dial includes a tellurion, which depicts the movement of the sun, Earth and moon. Engle’s clock made its public debut in 1877, promoted by a man named Capt. Jacob Reid, who organized showings in various cities. Reid distributed cards crowing that Engle was “the first and only man in the World, who ever invented and constructed, individually, an Apostolic, Musical and Astronomical Clock.” He said he’d pay $50,000 to anyone who could make a better clock. Competitors soon cropped up, some copying the look of Engle’s clock almost exactly. This prompted Engle to add more pizazz. He constructed two flanking towers, one of which had a Revolutionary War scene featuring Molly Pitcher, the other a classical scene with the muses of music, Orpheus and Linus. In all, the clock had 48 figures that spun and whirled to a soundtrack of bells and organ notes. It wowed most people who paid anywhere from a dime to a quarter to see it. (An exception: a journal called the Manufacturer and Builder. It decided Engle had wasted his time on the clock. “What is it good for, after all?” opined an anonymous writer.) By the 1950s, the clock had been retired and put in a barn. Amazingly, you can see it today. After decades moldering in storage, it was purchased in 1988 by the National Association of Watch & Clock Collectors. “In all seriousness, it shouldn’t even be around today, with all it’s been through,” said Bill Zell, who works a few days a week at the association’s museum in Columbia, Pa. The Engle clock had been carted all over the East Coast. “For 50 years of that time, it was hauled around on a horse and wagon,” said Zell. “That’s a lot of rough treatment.” Volunteers from the association restored the clock to its former glory, and in 1989 it was unveiled. The clock is demonstrated twice a day. (For information, visit nawcc.org.) The Engle clock retains its ability to surprise and delight. “I’m going to start with the teenagers,” Zell said. “Many come through on their phones. . . . Once that clock starts doing its performance, the phones go down. You don’t have to tell them to. It’s like they’re in shock. It has that affect on our teens. “As far as adults, even today they find it fantastic that one man could put something like this together.” Twitter: @johnkelly For previous columns, visit washingtonpost.com/john-kelly. |