Butchered Barometer: Ruined with Care
Manufacturer or Retailer
Heinrich Fröbel, HamburgSerial Number
549
Dating
late 19th century
Condition
Movement (Tube) Type
conventional movement tensioned on a C-spring
Dimensions
- diameter: 14 cm
- dial diameter: 8 cm
Materials
brass, cardboard, carved wood, glass, zinc
Object Overview
Sometimes, antique objects in a collection speak not only of craftsmanship, but of its loss. This barometer by Heinrich Fröbel, late 19th century, is a case in point. Once part of an elegant ensemble—with its finely carved walnut case, classical fluted edge, and the warmth of a craftsman’s touch—it embodied the refined taste of its time. But not everyone who undertakes a restoration understands the difference between repair and desecration.
Half a Frame, Twice the Shame
It’s hard to say what prompted the previous owner to such a radical alteration—a crack, a missing piece, or perhaps the urge to “modernize” its look. The result is before you: a mutilated plaque with a crude hanging hole, stripped of both form and meaning. What remains is not a barometer but a fragment better suited to a cautionary manual titled “How to Ruin an Antique with Your Bare Hands.” A triumphant act of amateurism—a circular wooden slap in the face of common sense. This transformation is proof that even good intentions can produce irreparable harm.
The Anatomy of a Mistake
On the back of what remains, the number 549 is still visible—whether by accident or design is unclear. This type of stamp is typical of serial production in the late 19th to early 20th century. It likely served as an article or inventory number used during assembly to match components and mechanisms. The mark was pressed, not hand-written—leaving a sunken imprint that speaks of its factory origins. This allows us to confidently state that the original case was factory-made and undoubtedly had entirely different proportions.
When Art Meets a Screwdriver
Artisanal craft demands skill, patience, and love. It does not forgive stupidity, stinginess, or haste. It does not tolerate a chisel where a fine blade is needed, and rejects bad taste the way the body rejects a splinter. But art is helpless against the hero with a screwdriver, the soul of a restorer, and the hands of a bulldozer—awakened one morning by the muse of “What if I just try…”
I chose to acquire and preserve this barometer exactly as it is—as a cautionary tale, a counterpoint to everything else in my collection. Let it serve as a reminder: even the humblest restoration requires respect for the original. Because a barometer is not just an instrument. It is an expression of culture, memory, and hands that knew what they were doing.