The Last Works of William Hambly

An 1835 Callington Time Capsule: One Watchmaker's Swan Song and the 190-Year Journey of a Family Heirloom

William Hambly: A Callington Craftsman's Final Chapter

Historical records indicate that William Hambly died in October 1835. The hallmarks inside this watch case date the silver specifically to the period between August 1835 and August 1836—placing this timepiece among the very last works ever assembled or sold by Hambly's workshop.

This is a watchmaker's "swan song": the final products of a lifetime's trade, bearing Hambly's signature and workshop number even as his business approached its end. Whether Hambly himself performed the final assembly and regulation, or whether the piece was completed by family or apprentices after his death in October, we cannot know with certainty. What is clear is that this watch represents the closing chapter of independent watchmaking in Callington.

The movement bears the signature "Wm. Hambly, Callington, No. 5175"—suggesting that Hambly's workshop had produced thousands of timepieces over his career. The ornate hand-engraved balance cock, with its intricate floral scrollwork and grotesque mask (a traditional apotropaic symbol meant to ward off evil), demonstrates the level of craftsmanship that provincial watchmakers brought to their trade.

The 19th-Century Supply Chain: A Global Effort

While this watch proudly bears Hambly's signature and "Callington" on its dial, its creation illustrates the sophisticated supply chain that characterized British watchmaking in the 1830s. This was not the work of a single craftsman, but rather the orchestration of specialized skills from across England.

This division of labor allowed for both quality and affordability. Prescot's machines could produce movement parts more precisely and cheaply than any single watchmaker. Exeter's specialist case makers could work silver more skillfully than a watchmaker. And Hambly could focus his expertise on the skilled work of finishing, regulating, and certifying—work that required years of training and a craftsman's touch.

Understanding the Hallmarks: Dating to 1835

The silver case bears five distinct hallmarks that tell us exactly when and where this watch entered the world of legitimate commerce.

The "Turnip": Pair-Case Design and Practical Engineering

You will immediately notice this watch has two cases—an inner case containing the movement, and an outer protective case. This "pair case" design was not decorative luxury but practical necessity for a working timepiece in 1830s Cornwall.

Why Two Cases?

Dust Protection: Unlike modern watches, this Verge Fusee is wound from the back with a key. Every time you wound it, you had to open the back and insert the winding key directly onto the arbor (shaft) of the fusee. This exposed the delicate mechanism to the environment. In rural Cornwall—with its tin mines, market towns, and agricultural work—dust and grit were constant threats. The outer case protected the inner mechanism from contamination every time the watch was wound.

Impact Protection: The gap between inner and outer cases acted as a cushion, absorbing shocks that would otherwise be transmitted directly to the movement. For a watch that might be worn while riding horses, working at market, or conducting business in rough country, this extra protection was essential.

The "Turnip" Feel: These watches were affectionately known as "turnips" due to their thick, round shape. They were heavy, substantial objects—3-4 ounces of solid silver and brass—that weighed down a waistcoat pocket with reassuring heft. You always knew it was there.

The Sound: A Verge escapement is not quiet. Unlike later lever escapements, the Verge has a loud, rhythmic recoil—a tick-TOCK, tick-TOCK that was clearly audible to the wearer. This "heartbeat" would have been a constant companion to Mr. Copplestone and Mr. Cloke as they went about their days, a mechanical pulse measuring out their hours.

A Paper Trail of Ownership: The Watch Papers

Hidden inside the outer case were several "watch papers"—protective paper liners used to prevent the inner case from rattling against the outer case. These ephemeral scraps of paper, which typically would have been discarded when the watch was next serviced, have survived for nearly 170 years. They double as a service log, preserving a timeline of care spanning five decades.

The papers advertise "Budge - Watch & Clock Maker, Silversmith & Jeweller" of Fore Street, Callington—the business that took over servicing watches in Callington after William Hambly's era ended. This succession represents the continuity of local craft: when Hambly died in 1835, Budge's establishment maintained the tradition of watchmaking in the town.

A Symbol of Substance: What It Meant to Own This Watch in 1835

To fully appreciate this watch's significance, we must understand what it represented in the social and economic world of 1830s Cornwall.

Social Significance in Victorian Cornwall

In 1830s-1850s Cornwall, watches were clearly stratified by class:

• Gold watches = Gentry, wealthy merchants, professionals
• Silver watches like this one = Middle class, prosperous tradesmen
• Base metal watches = Working class who could afford timekeeping
• No watch at all = Agricultural laborers, miners, servants—most of the population

For Richard Copplestone, a tailor in St Mellion, owning this watch was both a practical necessity and a social statement. As a tailor, he needed accurate timekeeping for:

• Managing client appointments and fitting schedules
• Coordinating deliveries and meeting deadlines
• Demonstrating punctuality and reliability—key virtues in business
• Signaling his professional status to clients and competitors

But beyond utility, the watch proclaimed: I am a man of substance. I value precision and order. I have the resources to own quality goods. I am respectable.

Richard Copplestone and the Watch's Early History

The documented service history begins with Richard Copplestone (born 3 August 1777, died September 1857), a tailor working in St Mellion, Cornwall. But how did Richard come to own one of William Hambly's final works?

What we know with certainty is that by 1849, Richard Copplestone owned this watch and was having it professionally serviced—maintaining a now 14-year-old timepiece and demonstrating his commitment to preserving it properly.

The Family Connection: Marriage, Inheritance, and Memory

The watch's passage from Copplestone to Cloake is rooted in a marriage that joined two Cornish families and created a bond that would span generations.

The watch passed from stepfather to stepson, probably around 1857-1859. The 1867 service for "Mr. Copplestone/Cloak" may have been the last under Jane's lifetime (she would have been 87). After that, the watch became purely Cloake property—but it retained the name "Copplestone" in family memory, a testament to the man who had raised John and left him this tangible legacy.

Five Generations: The Path of Inheritance

Why This Watch Was Never Sold

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of this watch's story is its survival. Consider what it lived through:

• The agricultural depressions of the 1870s-1880s
• The decline of Cornish tin mining
• John Cloake's modest circumstances as an agricultural labourer
• David Thomas Cloake's early years as labourer and bargeman
• The hardships of the First and Second World Wars
• The great emigrations from Cornwall to the New World
• Economic depressions and personal hardships

At any point, this watch could have been sold. Its silver content alone represented significant value—enough to feed a family for months or pay rent for a year. Yet it was preserved.

Why? Because it was worth more than its silver. It represented:

• Richard Copplestone's legacy to his stepson John—a tangible reminder of the man who raised him
• Professional identity—the link to Richard's respectable trade and middle-class status
• Family continuity—the physical object connecting John to his stepfather, David Thomas to his father, and subsequent generations to their Cornish roots
• Quality and craftsmanship—William Hambly's last work, maintained for 190 years
• The sound of home—that loud Verge tick-TOCK that John heard at Penyoke, that David Thomas heard at Warren House, carried forward in memory

From Callington to Canterbury: The Emigrant's Heirloom

At some point in the 20th century, this watch made one final journey—from Cornwall to New Zealand. The Cloake family's emigration to Canterbury represents the broader story of Cornish migration, as thousands left the declining mining regions and agricultural hardships of Cornwall for opportunities in the New World.

What items do you bring when you emigrate? You can't bring everything. Space on ships was limited, costs were high, and you had to choose what was essential. Yet someone chose to bring this watch—90 or 100 years old by then, no longer fashionable, a "turnip" from a bygone era.

They brought it because it was memory made tangible. The watch that Richard Copplestone wore to John's wedding. The watch John wound each morning at Penyoke. The watch David Thomas carried while working the barges, then farming his 90 acres. The watch that ticked out the hours of family gatherings, christenings, funerals, and ordinary days.

That watch—William Hambly's last work—traveled 12,000 miles to become a New Zealand treasure, forever linking the Cloake family to a Callington workshop that closed in 1835.

The Watch in 2025: A Living Connection

Today, in Mervyn Cloake's care, this watch continues to fulfill its purpose—not to keep perfect time, but to keep memory.

When wound with its original key, the movement still runs. The Verge escapement's loud tick-TOCK still sounds—the same rhythm that Richard heard in his St Mellion workshop, that John heard at Penyoke, that David Thomas heard at Warren House. Across 190 years, the sound remains unchanged.

And now we can tell its story on this family website page for all to share and appreciate.

The watch has outlived:

• William Hambly's workshop (closed 1835)
• Budge's watchmaking business in Callington
• John Gamon's silversmithing in Exeter
• The Exeter Assay Office itself (closed 1883)
• The entire Verge Fusee era of watchmaking
• Five generations of owners

Yet it endures—proof of William Hambly's skill, John Gamon's craftsmanship, and five generations' commitment to preserving family memory.

Historical and Genealogical Significance

This watch is remarkable on multiple levels:

1. Precisely dated provincial craftsmanship — The hallmarks date it to a single year (1835), and William Hambly's death in October 1835 makes it one of his last works. This precision is rare for family heirlooms.
2. Complete documentation — From manufacture (1835) through services (1849-1904) to present ownership (2025), we can trace this watch through 190 years with unusual completeness.
3. Manufacturing history — The watch illustrates the 19th-century supply chain: Lancashire movements, Exeter cases, Callington finishing. It's a case study in provincial craft networks.
4. Social history — The watch documents middle-class aspiration and family values in Victorian Cornwall. Richard's ownership of a £5-7 watch reveals his social status; the family's preservation of it across hardships reveals its symbolic value.
5. Family relationships — The watch's passage from stepfather (Richard) to stepson (John) to grandson (David Thomas) maps family bonds across three generations, crossing the boundary from Copplestone to Cloake while retaining memory of both families.
6. Emigrant heritage — As an object that traveled from Cornwall to New Zealand, the watch represents the tangible threads connecting emigrant communities to their ancestral homeland.
7. Technological artifact — As a Verge Fusee watch, it represents an obsolete but historically important technology—the last generation before the lever escapement revolution transformed watchmaking.

For Future Generations

If you are reading this as a descendant of the Cloake family, you are now the custodian not just of a watch but of 190 years of documented history. Some suggestions for preservation:

• Never clean or polish the case — The patina and wear patterns are part of its history
• Store it safely — Away from extreme temperatures and humidity
• Wind it occasionally — Let the mechanism move to prevent oil from congealing
• Keep the watch papers — These fragile documents are irreplaceable
• Document the story — Add your own memories and knowledge to this record
• Consider professional conservation — If the watch needs work, consult a specialist in antique watches, not a modern jeweler

Article researched and compiled 2025. Special thanks to Mervyn Cloake for preserving this watch and its documentation, and for making this research possible.