Some time ago, I was up for a real challenge when I bought an old clock that seemed hopelessly irreparable. While picking up another clock, the seller threw this one in for a few dollars more. The clock, an Ansonia Extra Drop, was in pieces and had been stored in a barn—literally—for many years. The case had completely come apart, and half the backboard was missing. Most would have thrown out this jumble of parts, but I saw a diamond in the rough.
The movement was intact, but it was the dirtiest I had ever seen. Okay, it looks bad, but might it be saved?
Front of movement showing plenty of rust
It was so rusty that none of the wheels would move. I was less concerned about the wheels and pivots because I knew that once I took it apart and cleaned it up, there was a good possibility that the wheels would move again. The rusty mainspring concerned me, however. A mainspring’s strength can be seriously compromised by the presence of rust. That said, it seemed to me that a surface coating of rust alone should not be too much of a problem.
Back of movement
After cleaning, polishing, and addressing pivot wear, the movement was reassembled, and a deciding the mainspring could be reused; here is the final result.
How well did it function? So well, in fact, that it is now one of my daily runners.
And the case, you might ask? Well, it is not perfect, but I managed to piece together what I had, add a piece of backboard from an old ogee clock, touch up the dial, add a new set of hands, pallets, and crutch, suspension rod, and construct a lower access door. While it may look good from afar, closer scrutiny reveals its rough edges. Most importantly, it tells a story of resurrection.
In the end, what first appeared to be a hopeless, rust-bound movement destined for the garbage can proved otherwise. Does that mean every movement can be successfully brought back to life? No—though for some irreparable clock movements, some parts can be salvaged. However, with careful work, patience, and a willingness to look beyond first impressions, this clock was made to run again.
It served as a reminder that even the most neglected mechanisms often deserve a second look—and that revival is sometimes less about miracles than about time and persistence.
Related Links
Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock does not run, and a rusty mainspring is the culprit; the clock was in pretty rough shape when I bought it and the only significant part missing is the brass dial bezel and a number of minor items such as the verge, hands, pendulum bob, suspension spring/rod, and the drop access door (which I made later on)
Making a drop door for the Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock; A barn find clock in pieces is a challenge for anyone. It was missing some parts. I discovered that I had enough to make something of it, and whatever was missing could be easily sourced or made.
The challenges of restoring an Ansonia wall clock when parts are scarce; This clock was manufactured by the Ansonia Brass & Copper Co. around 1880. It is 26 inches high, 16 inches wide and 5 inches deep. It has a 16 inch round wood door bezel on a large 2 inch hinge. The drop section has serpentine sides and teardrop finials. The bottom access drop door opens downwards. Other Drop Extra access doors open to the side.
Starting an antique clock collection can be both exciting and a little overwhelming. With so many styles, makers, movements, and time periods to choose from, it’s easy to wonder where to begin. The good news is that you don’t need deep pockets or expert knowledge on day one—just curiosity, patience, and a willingness to learn.
I remember my early days of collecting, when I was eager to add just about anything to my budding collection. Today, I am far more discerning, carefully considering each potential acquisition. However, in my 25 years of collecting, I still own the first clock I would consider a true antique.
Seth Thomas Adamantine Mantel Clock, my very first true antique clock
If you’re thinking about starting your own antique clock collection, I offer some practical tips to help you get started on the right foot.
1. Start With What You Like
The best advice for any collector is simple: buy what you enjoy. Don’t worry about trends, investment value, or what others say you should collect. Whether it’s a simple kitchen clock, a shelf clock, a Vienna regulator, or a mantel clock with a rich patina, choose pieces that genuinely appeal to you.
One of my favorite clocks
If a clock makes you look twice when you enter a room, that’s always a good sign.
2. Learn the Basics Before You Buy
You don’t need to become a horological expert overnight, but learning a few fundamentals will save you money and frustration. Take some time to understand:
Common movements (time-only, time and strike, chiming, spring or weight-driven clocks)
Key terms like escapement, pendulum, mainspring, and strike train
Books, museum visits, online forums, and blogs (like mine) devoted to antique clocks are excellent learning tools. The more you learn, the more confident you’ll feel when evaluating potential purchases. Knowledge is power!
3. Set a Budget—and Stick to It
Antique clocks can range from modestly priced to very expensive. Decide early on what you’re comfortable spending and remember to factor in possible repair costs. A clock that seems like a bargain may need servicing, which can quickly exceed the purchase price.
If you are bidding on a clock online, don’t get caught up in a bidding war. Set a firm limit and be prepared to walk away—other opportunities will inevitably come along.
A surprisingly inexpensive find; a Scottish tall case clock from the 1840s
Many fine antique clocks are still affordable, especially if you’re open to cosmetic wear or minor issues. A well-maintained, honest clock is often a better choice than an over-restored one.
4. Condition Matters More Than Perfection
It’s normal for antique clocks to show signs of age—after all, many are well over a century old. Look for clocks that are complete, structurally sound, and largely original. Missing parts, incorrect replacements, or heavily altered cases can be difficult and costly to correct.
When possible, ask:
Does the clock run?
Has it been serviced recently?
Are all the parts present?
Even if a clock isn’t currently running, it can still be a good purchase if you understand what it may need. In time, you will develop the skills and expertise needed to repair a non-running clock.
5. Buy From Reputable Sources
When starting out, it helps to buy from sellers who know clocks and are willing to answer questions. Antique shops, clock shows, auctions, and fellow collectors can all be good sources. Be cautious with vague descriptions or sellers who can’t provide basic information about the clock.
Over time, you’ll develop a sense for what feels right—and who you can trust.
6. Keep Records of Your Collection
As far as record-keeping, I find myself offering advice I don’t always follow. Perhaps that’s the true challenge of collecting.
From the beginning, get into the habit of keeping notes on your clocks. Record where and when you bought them, the maker, any repairs done, and any interesting history attached to the piece. Photographs are invaluable.
This not only adds enjoyment to collecting but also becomes important for insurance, resale, or passing the clocks on to future generations.
7. Be Patient and Enjoy the Journey
A good clock collection isn’t built overnight. It evolves over time as your tastes change and your knowledge grows. Some clocks will stay with you forever; others may move on as your focus becomes more refined. Although I enjoyed collecting common mantel clocks from the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, that is no longer my focus—and that’s perfectly normal. I wrote an article recently about thedynamic aspect of clock collecting that you might find interesting.
Collecting antique clocks is as much about the stories, craftsmanship, and history as it is about the clocks themselves. I marvel at the stories behind some of my clocks.
8. Investment value
From time to time, antique clocks are promoted as “investments,” but this is often a misunderstanding of both the market and the hobby. While a few rare, high-end pieces may appreciate, most antique clocks do not reliably increase in value once repair, maintenance, and storage costs are considered. Tastes change, markets fluctuate, and selling can be slow and unpredictable. Collecting clocks for enjoyment, historical interest, and craftsmanship is far more rewarding than treating them as a financial strategy.
Ingraham Huron balloon-style shelf clock; Somewhat rare, but collected for appreciation—not investment
Final Thoughts
Starting an antique clock collection is a rewarding pursuit that connects you to history, engineering, and artistry. Take your time, ask questions, learn as you go, and most importantly—enjoy the process. Every clock has a story, and as a collector, you become part of it
This clock wasn’t one I set out to find. My wife and I were wandering through a sprawling antique shop in Almonte, Ontario—the kind of place where time itself seems to stand still. She drifted upstairs while I lingered below, each of us lost in our own quiet hunt. A few minutes later, she appeared at the top of the stairs and called down, “Take a look at this!” I climbed up, curious, and there it was—a clock that neither of us had expected to see, yet somehow felt right. We looked it over, exchanged a knowing glance, and decided the price was fair. A few moments later, it was ours.
For a while, I admired the clock just as it was—until a small detail caught my attention and led me down another path of discovery.
I initially thought the clock was complete until I posted a query on an online clock forum site and discovered that it was missing two trim pieces.
First photo of the clock
However, I also learned that the clock was named the Suffolkand was offered for sale by Waterbury from about 1907 to 1915. The clock is shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury Clocks book on page 270, which includes an image.
It is cased in mahogany, has an eight-day movement, and features a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. The six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial has spade and spear hands and a visible or open escapement. It includes a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15½ inches and 11¾ inches wide, with wooden biscuit feet.
The time and strike movement on a coiled gong
I asked myself what I should do about the missing trim pieces. I also wondered how they had fallen off, but it appears they were glued on at the factory and may have been vulnerable to coming loose if struck. In my experience, once a piece comes off and becomes separated from the clock, it is unfortunately lost forever.
The original pieces were carved mahogany blocks with a center cut-out. Since I don’t have the tools to duplicate that process, and the router bits I have are far too large for this type of work, I decided to come up with what I felt was an acceptable alternative.
I didn’t have any mahogany among my scrap wood selection, but then I remembered some trim pieces I’d received from a friend’s old pump organ about a year ago. At the time, I had no idea how I would use them, and as I suspected, they turned out to be made of mahogany.
Using a table saw, I cut out two test pieces to determine if the repair would work. They looked acceptable, even if not quite sized correctly, and since I had enough mahogany, I set about carefully measuring the final pieces. I decided to stack thinner sections in a relief style—quite the opposite of the original design.
Because the clock’s case parts varied slightly in tone, I knew the new pieces would end up a shade darker.
Test pieces, narrower than the final pieces
I then cut the final pieces, sanded off the finish, glued the sections together, and attached them to the base of the clock using carpenter’s wood glue. The final step was applying two coats of finishing paste wax. The clock now looks more complete, and unless one is familiar with the original design of the missing pieces, they would be hard-pressed to notice the difference.
The final outcome
Making changes to a clock’s case is never easy, for each alteration risks straying from what once was. Yet restoration is, by nature, a communication between the past and the present—to reconcile what time has taken and what care can restore. Though the change departs slightly from the original, it brings balance to the design in my view, and renews the clock’s quiet dignity. In that sense, I am content with the outcome.
Restoring the Suffolk reminded me that even small imperfections can lead to creative solutions. While my replacement trim pieces differ from the factory originals, they complement the clock’s character and preserve its charm—proof that restoration is as much about craftsmanship and ingenuity as it is about authenticity.
For those who appreciate a visual commentary, check out a 3 1/2 minute video I made during the project:
TheAmerican Banjo clock — often just called a banjo clock — got its name from the shape of its case, which resembles a banjo musical instrument. Although the design was patented in 1802 by Simon Willard, a renowned clockmaker from Roxbury, Massachusetts, Willard referred to his invention as the “Improved Timepiece,” not a banjo clock.
Willard-style banjo clock, c. 1810
There are essentially three types of mechanical banjo clocks. Those with lever escapements are usually in the lower price range, spring-driven examples occupy the middle ground, and weight-driven banjo clocks represent the higher end, typically costing several hundred dollars in fair condition to several thousand for authenticated examples from reputable makers.
My wife spotted the clock on Facebook Marketplace one evening. It was listed for $100, and the photo immediately caught my attention. I had a feeling it might be a diamond in the rough. I suggested she offer the seller $75, and to our surprise, the offer was accepted almost immediately. It seemed they just wanted it gone.
Seller’s photo, looking a little tired
The clock was one of several items the seller had for sale as part of a community-wide garage sale. So, a day later, we made the drive out to the rural part of Nova Scotia where the sale was taking place. When we arrived, we found the house and asked to see the clock. It was sitting there among other odds and ends, looking a little tired but full of promise.
Broken dial glass, original hands
As we examined it, I asked a few questions about its history. The seller explained that it had belonged to an uncle in Wolfville, Nova Scotia—a man who had once owned a large collection of antique clocks and had been in the family for over 60 years. That was all I needed to hear.
Before we left, the seller asked if I might be interested in another clock—a 30-hour mantel clock. “It’s worth a lot more than that one,” they insisted, nodding toward the banjo clock. I smiled and politely declined. Something told me the first clock was the one worth keeping.
Classic time-only movement
And I was right. Once we brought it home, cleaned it up, and did a little research, we discovered that it was indeed something special—a genuine, 1830s timepiece, a true diamond in the rough.
The clock was surprisingly heavy when I first lifted it, which told me right away that the weight was still inside the case. That was a good sign. Had it been missing, finding a proper replacement would have been a challenge—and there’s really nothing quite like having the original weight that once powered the movement so many decades ago.
It turned out to be a Federal-style banjo clock, housed in a rich mahogany case that bore the quiet dignity of age. The movement was intact, a promising start. At the top sat a graceful acorn finial, original to the clock—a small but telling detail. At first glance, I thought the carved reverse-scrolled side arms and lower base section were missing, but later learned that not all examples from this period included those features; In fact, simplicity was a defining feature of early timepieces.
The original steel hands, shaped in that classic banjo style, were still in place, and the dial face, though worn, retained much of its character. The glass bezel was broken but easily replaced. The case itself was dusty and a bit tired, with a few areas needing veneer work, a split wood bezel, but nothing beyond repair. As I examined it more closely, I discovered the winding crank tucked neatly into the bottom of the case—perhaps placed there by its last owner many years ago.
After some careful study and comparison with other examples online, and with help from a few knowledgeable members of a clock forum, I came to believe that the clock was made in the late 1830s in Boston—possibly by John Sawin. Sawin had apprenticed under Simon Willard and later worked as a journeyman for Aaron Willard, two of the most respected clockmakers of their day and inventors of the original patent timepiece. Unfortunately, there are no identifying marks on the case or movement, leaving its true maker a mystery—but a fascinating one all the same.
Fully restored clock on display in my home
With that in mind, I decided to give the old clock the attention it deserved. What followed was a careful cleaning, a bit of veneer work, minor repairs, glass bezel replacement, and the satisfaction of seeing history come back to life.
We live in the northern part of Nova Scotia, and a trip to the Annapolis Valley for clock hunting is always a pleasure on an early fall day. It’s one of the province’s most beautiful regions — a mix of rolling hills, orchards, small farms, and picturesque little towns that always seem to welcome you back. Our destination this time was the town ofBerwick, nestled right in the heart of the valley. It’s one of those places where time moves just a little more slowly — fitting, perhaps, for the clock that awaited us there.
Ansonia short dropschoolhouse-style clock
We had planned the trip beforehand, arranging to meet the seller at an agreed-upon time. The seller welcomed us warmly into his home and soon began to share the clock’s story. The clock had been in his family for over fifty years. “I never actually saw it running,” he said with a smile, “but my mother really loved that clock.” His mother had recently passed away, and he was in the midst of settling her estate. It was clear that selling the clock was not easy for him — it held sentimental value, as many family clocks do, but he knew it was time to let things go.
He told me that an antique dealer had been through the house earlier and offered one price for each room. “The clock alone was worth more than what he offered for one whole room,” he said, shaking his head. I could tell he wanted it to go to someone who would truly appreciate it. I promised it would be cared for and restored.
He believed the clock had come from an old schoolhouse in Ontario, decommissioned sometime in the 1950s, though its exact location has been lost to time. One can imagine it ticking away the hours for many years in that classroom.
The pine case is in lovely condition with only minor issues. Around the center of the dial, near the winding holes, some paint has been added — likely an attempt to cover small stains from decades of oily fingers winding and adjusting the clock.
Time only movement
The clock is an Ansonia octagonal short drop, often referred to as a schoolhouse clock. I’d place its manufacture around the turn of the 20th century — likely between 1900 and 1912. The number “12” is stamped on the movement, which may represent the year, though it could also just be a batch mark. The faint Ansonia trademark is still visible, and the letters “TT” are stamped nearby. This was my first Ansonia, and it’s always a thrill to study a new movement up close.
Image from the ad
One issue quickly revealed itself: the hour hand bushing was missing. The bushing provides the necessary friction fit with the cannon pinion, and without it, the hand simply spins. I suspect that’s why the clock was deemed “not working.” Someone probably thought the movement was faulty when, in fact, it was just missing this small part. Fortunately, it’s an easy fix that can be done with a replacement or a handmade bushing.
Dial removed, showing the movement and its curious slope to the left
When I examined the pendulum, I noticed something curious — small pieces of a rotted elastic band on the rod just below the suspension spring. Why it was there, I have no idea. Perhaps someone thought it would steady the pendulum, or maybe it was part of an old improvised repair. These little mysteries often make clock restoration interesting.
After a minor adjustment — a slight bend of the crutch to bring the clock into beat — it began ticking steadily. There’s minimal wear visible, which was confirmed when I removed the movement for a full cleaning and inspection.
Much has been written about the Ansonia Clock Company, once one of the great names in American clockmaking. The company went into receivership just before the 1929 stock market crash — a sign of difficult times ahead. The machinery and dies were later sold to a Russian company, marking the end of an era. It’s always a little sad to think that such a remarkable chapter in horological history closed that way. Clocks bearing the Ansonia name are still sold today, but the name on the dial bears no real connection to the company that once was.
When the new hands arrived in the mail, the final touches were complete. The hour hand came with a proper bushing and fit perfectly on the cannon. The clock, fully serviced now, runs beautifully — a fine old Ansonia, rescued from dormancy and restored to life. It’s now proudly ticking away on my daughter’s office wall in Alberta, keeping time as faithfully as it did more than a century ago.
Some time ago, I came across an ad on Facebook Marketplace for a clock owned by an older couple who lived about forty-five minutes from our home on the East Coast. When I first saw the photo, something about the clock caught my eye—it had character, a quiet dignity, and I had a feeling it might be special. I reached out to the seller through Facebook, and after a brief phone conversation, we agreed on a price that he felt was fair.
E Ingraham Huron Circa 1878
Finding their home wasn’t straightforward. We took a few wrong turns, but eventually found our way to a modest single-wide house nestled in the woods about twenty minutes from a larger coastal town. It was the kind of home that had clearly been lived in for decades.
A man in his early seventies greeted us at the door with a polite smile tinged with sadness. As we stepped inside, he excused himself and disappeared for a moment, returning with the clock in his hands. I asked him why he had decided to sell it, especially since he mentioned it had belonged to his grandmother and had been in his family for as long as he could remember.
He paused before answering, his eyes drifting toward the window. “My wife and I have decided to go our separate ways,” he said softly. “She wants to live in town, but I can’t bring myself to leave this place. Everything I care about is here—my shop (which was larger than his house!), my tools, my memories, but we have to get rid of some stuff”.
As he spoke, it became clear that the clock was more than just an heirloom—it was a piece of his past, a witness to the life he had built in that home. Letting it go wasn’t just about making space; it was about closing a chapter.
I examined the clock carefully, noting that it was complete and in good condition. “I’ll take it,” I said with a smile. Just inside the case, I noticed a penciled marking that read “Hebb and 1944.” The seller recalled a Hebb family who once lived in the Bridgewater area of Nova Scotia, near where I purchased the clock — perhaps a clock tinkerer.
“Okay,” he replied, then hesitated for a moment before adding, “Would you happen to be interested in Elvis Presley memorabilia?”
I glanced over at my wife, who was already trying not to laugh. The question caught us both off guard—we couldn’t have been less interested in that sort of thing, but his earnestness made the moment oddly endearing.
Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co.
It is a rosewood-veneered Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co., Bristol, Connecticut. It features a paper-on-zinc dial with a round glazed door and a lower glass access panel. The Huron is one of the less commonly found Ingraham models of the period, having been manufactured briefly between 1878 and 1880. The maker’s label remains intact on the inside of the backboard. The clock has a brass, eight-day, spring-powered movement and stands 16 inches tall.
The veneers are in excellent condition, with no splitting or cracking. The clock face shows a build-up of grime, which I chose to leave as is. The base corner pieces show slight wear, but both door catches are sound. The glass is perfect, the door hinges are in excellent condition, and both the upper and lower doors still fit with precision. The pendulum retains its original lacquer and presents well. Before examining the movement, a gentle push of the pendulum suggested that something was amiss.
Once I extracted the movement from its case, it was certainly not without its issues. There was plenty of solder applied here and there—evidently, a past repairer believed that the more solder, the better. During restoration, all traces of it were carefully removed, and the movement was thoroughly cleaned and brought back to full working order.
The movement was not without its issues
I’ve often said that if the day ever comes when I’m compelled to downsize my collection, this would be one I’d keep. Not for its rarity or provenance, but because it embodies everything I admire in a clock—the craftsmanship, the quiet dignity, and the enduring beauty of something well made and lovingly preserved, and the story that became part of it.
Ingraham Huron shelf clock
In the end, it’s pieces like this that remind me why I collect—not to own more clocks, but to honour the skill and spirit of those who built them, one tick at a time.
Almonte, Ontario, (Canada) is a town that practically invites you to slow down and explore, and that’s exactly what my wife and I did one afternoon in September. In fact, it is called “The Friendly Town”. We drifted from one antique shop to another, discovering all sorts of curiosities. But in one store, I found something that stopped me in my tracks—a stately Waterbury time and strike mantel clock. It felt like uncovering a hidden story, and I couldn’t resist bringing it home.
There are many antique stores in Almonte, but this is where the clock was purchased
I was drawn to the open escapement and porcelain dial—features that are relatively rare in a common American clock.
Untouched and before a cleaning
At first glance, it looked intact, but after posting the clockon a popular clock collectors’ website, I was informed that the case appeared to be missing the lower parts of the columns. I asked the poster to supply a photo for comparison. In the meantime, I carefully examined the case myself and did not find any anchor points or residual glue traces that would suggest something had originally been attached there.
However, further research revealed that there were indeed trim pieces under the columns. This photo, taken from the 1909–10 Waterbury Clock catalog, shows the complete clock. You will note that in 1909–10, the clock was listed at $23.00, slightly more than a typical middle-class worker’s weekly wages in 1910.
The clock is called the “Suffolk”, as shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury bookon page 270 (and the catalog photo above). It is cased in Mahogany, has an 8-day movement, and has a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. It has a six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial with spade and spear hands, and a visible or open escapement. It features a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15 1/2 inches and is 11 3/4 inches wide with wooden biscuit feet.
As an aside, Waterbury also produced a Suffolk model in 1891, which is entirely different from this clock.
The poster said that it is also shown in the 1915 catalog. The patent date on the movement plate is September 1898, so it is quite possible that Waterbury offered the movement for this and other models for a number of years.
When I first looked over the movement, I could see it had been well cared for, still showing a bright, clean finish. But then I noticed something odd: the pendulum was hooked directly onto the crutch. That explained everything—of course, the clock wouldn’t run! It was likely this simple issue that led the seller to list it ‘as is,’ and therefore at a better price.
While trying to think of a way to make a new suspension spring and rod, I thought, why not check the bottom of the case? Sure enough, the original suspension spring and rod had been tucked into a crevice at the inside bottom of the case.
With the suspension rod attachedand the gong in place
After installing the suspension spring and rod, I wound the movement, gave the pendulum a gentle push, and to my relief, the clock sprang to life. I’m holding off on letting it run too long until I oil the pivots. Once that’s done, I’ll let it run for a while to see if it can make a full 8-day cycle. After that, it will be set aside for proper servicing.
Despite the missing lower trim pieces and the slight chipping around the number 12 on the porcelain dial, it remains a very nice clock and is reasonably well-preserved.
From the tucked-away suspension spring & rod to the moment the pendulum first swung, it reminded me how even the simplest details can make all the difference in getting a clock to run. While it will eventually need a full servicing, seeing it come to life again was a rewarding reminder of why I love collecting and caring for these fascinating pieces of history.
Every so often, a clock turns up that makes you stop and think, “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day.” That was certainly the case when WT of Peterborough, Ontario, sent me pictures of an interesting find—a Hamilton Clock Co., rather ordinary-looking short-drop schoolhouse-style wall clock with an unusual twist.
At first glance, the case is exactly what you’d expect: a classic Canadian-made schoolhouse clock, sturdy and handsome, dating to the late 1870s. But it’s the movement inside that tells the real story. Instead of a standard 8-day time and strike mechanism, this one is—quite literally—cut in half. The strike side has been sawed off, leaving only the time side to keep things running.
Other manufacturers at the time would have designed a proper time-only movement, but Hamilton seemed to have taken the practical (and perhaps cost-saving) approach of simply chopping an existing one down. Efficient, if a bit unorthodox!
I asked WT how he came across it, and his story adds another layer of charm.
“I was at a garage sale hosted by a fellow horologist about a year ago (summer of 2024) and bought up a mess of stuff. This clock was in rough shape. I told him when I discovered it that it was a Hamilton. ‘I’ve always wanted a Hamilton.’, I said. He said, ‘No, you take it.’”
And just like that, WT became the caretaker of a rare and quirky piece of Canadian clockmaking history.
A Little About the Hamilton Clock Company
For those less familiar with Canadian clockmaking, the Hamilton Clock Company has an interesting—if brief—story. Founded in 1876 in Hamilton, Ontario, the company was part of Canada’s early attempts to establish a domestic clock industry that could compete with American imports.
In those days, American clockmakers like Seth Thomas and Ansonia dominated the market. Canadian firms had to be creative, and sometimes that meant cutting corners (in this case, quite literally!).
By taking an existing 8-day strike movement and sawing off the strike train, Hamilton avoided the cost of designing and tooling a new movement just for time-only models. The clock movement was evidently tailor-made for customers who just wanted a time-only movement in their clock. It was a practical solution, but one that makes today’s collectors raise their eyebrows when they see it.
WT says that one can literally see the saw blade marks on the movement where it was cut.
Unfortunately, the Hamilton Clock Company was short-lived. By the early 1880s, it had folded, and its assets were eventually acquired by the Canada Clock Company. Later (1904), the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company of Berlin (renamed Kitchener in June 1916), Ontario, was formed to become Canada’s best-known domestic clockmaker.
That makes these surviving Hamilton clocks something special. They’re scarce, they often have quirks, and they represent the scrappy beginnings of Canadian horology.
A Clock with Character
WT’s schoolhouse clock is more than just a timekeeper. It’s a piece of Hamilton, Ontario’s industrial past, a testament to Canadian ingenuity, and a reminder that sometimes the most unusual solutions are the most memorable.
The time-only movement is derived from an8-day time and strike movement; photo from Vakaris and Connell’s book, The Canada and Hamilton Clock Companies
From its industrial beginnings in the late 1870s, through more than a century of ticking, to a garage sale in Peterborough where it found WT, who truly appreciates it—this clock has lived a life. It may not strike the hours, but it certainly strikes a chord with anyone who loves Canadian horology.
Having worked on a number of German and American clock movements recently, I began reflecting on the differences in design philosophy, construction methods, and overall durability between modern German movements from the past 30 to 40 years and American movements made over a century ago.
These comparisons reveal not just technical contrasts but also shifting attitudes toward repair, longevity, and manufacturing priorities.
In the early stages of any product’s history, things are often built better than necessary—if only because the technology was so new that no one had yet figured out how to make it cheaper and less durable.
Early American banjo clocks were lovingly handcrafted
The cost and production methods of clocks have evolved significantly over time. Originally, antique clocks were handcrafted with great skill and time investment, which made them expensive and exclusive. Later, industrial advances like assembly line manufacturing lowered production costs and made clocks more affordable and accessible to a wider audience.
So, when comparing antique and modern clocks, it’s important to keep in mind these differences in how they were made and priced.
Is Every Clock Reparable?
Do modern movements wear out faster? I often see estimates of 25 to 30 years as the economic lifespan of a modern movement. Of course, mileage may vary, but most would agree that this is a reasonable average.
Is every clock repairable? Most are. It is perfectly feasible to tear down, clean, and rebush/repivot a modern German movement, provided the manufacturer has not used automated assembly techniques that make disassembly very difficult, if not impossible.
Vintage 3-train movement from Germany
Maintenance is time-consuming and, consequently, costly. A skilled clockmaker can tear down, clean, rebush, and rebuild most movements in a few days—and may charge around several hundred dollars for their work. Of course, if you are proficient in clock repair, you can absorb the costs even though you contribute the time needed to fix the clock.
Replacement rather than repair has pushed modern manufacturing into the ‘it’s cheaper to buy a new one than to fix it’ category. This trend mirrors the auto repair industry, where many vehicle owners find that repair costs often approach or exceed the value of their car, prompting them to purchase a new or used vehicle instead. Clocks are not exempt from this pattern. Most common clocks—unless they have special provenance—are far more expensive to repair than they are worth.
If the inflation-adjusted estimates are accurate, the price of mass-produced clocks from the past isn’t significantly different from that of today’s clocks. This may be due, at least in part, to economies of scale that allowed manufacturers of the time to offer higher-quality clocks at relatively lower prices.
Skilled trades or specialized workers (e.g., machinists, toolmakers) in 1920s Canada could earn $25–$40 per week, roughly the cost of a family clock
You can buy a brand-newHermlemovement for about half the cost of repair, so most customers and clock repairers opt for replacement after discussing the options with the owner.
The Wear-out Factor
Do modern movements actually “wear out” faster than those made one hundred years ago, or is it just that the manufacturing efficiencies have made modern ones so cheap they are uneconomic to repair?
I’ve compiled a chart to illustrate the differences between American clocks manufactured over 100 years ago and German clocks produced between the 1950s and 1980s, based on my observations and research into clock repair.
Lightweight, more delicate components, tiny pivots, plated pivots, temporarily
Tolerance for Wear
High—can run even when bushings are very worn
Wear develops quickly, multiple bushings are often needed
Pivot Hole Wear
Slow to develop, sometimes bushing is not required
Increased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, made serviceable by the factory
Design Philosophy
Long-lasting, serviceable by owners
Increased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, making it serviceable by the factory
Mechanism Complexity
Simple strike/spring trains, easy to diagnose and remedy
Self-correcting chime/strike, more moving parts, greater chance of malfunction
Mainsprings
Powerful, overbuilt, are often reusable
Narrower, tightly wound, sometimes prone to breakage, often reusable
Service Requirements
Can go years without a service
Sensitive to dry oil or dirt; must be oiled regularly, shorter period between services
Common Issues
Dirty oil, broken mainsprings, worn bushings
Worn bushings, broken chime hammers, gear slop
Longevity (w/o service)
25 to 50 years
20–30 years
Ease of Repair Today
High – parts are widely available, with forgiving tolerances
Pre-war German clocks were very robust, and post-war had a designed lifespan
Intended Lifespan
Generational/heirloom use
Pre-war German clocks were very robust, post-war had a designed lifespan
Notable Exceptions
Cheaper “kitchen clocks” with thinner plates
Some plastic gears are used, cheaper components
*Increasing the amount of zinc in brass can make the metal more cost-effective and easier to machine, but it also tends to make the alloy less durable and more prone to dezincification (where zinc leaches out, weakening the metal).
Final Thoughts
Understanding the history and evolution of clock manufacturing helps us appreciate the balance between craftsmanship, durability, and affordability.
Unique and handcraftedEnglishtravel clock
While antique clocks showcase the skill and time invested by individual makers, modern movements benefit from advances in manufacturing that make quality clocks more accessible, though often at the cost of durability and repairability. These factors allow collectors and enthusiasts to make informed decisions and better appreciate the unique value each era of clockmaking offers.
The Seth Thomas Type 89 movement is a robust and well-regarded mechanical clock movement widely used in many of Seth Thomas’ mantel and shelf clocks from the early 20th century to 1938.
The movement was introduced in 1900 and became one of Seth Thomas’ most popular and enduring movements.
There are several variants (89A, 89C, 89D, etc.), each tailored to specific clock models. The differences often involve small design adjustments like the escapement, strike train, or gearing. For example, some had solid back plates, some cut out, and some had a passing bell on the half-hour.
All Type 89 movements are time and strike and eight-day running and most use a strip pallet deadbeat escapement or according to Seth Thomas’s literature a “half deadbeat” escapement which is reliable and relatively easy to service. The most striking difference between the half-deadbeat and a recoil escapement is that the escape wheel teeth slant forward into the direction of rotation. Advantages: it was cheap to produce and still has fairly decent time-keeping ability.This video (no sound) shows the action of the escapement.
I consulted a chart (below) describing all the variations of the 89 and from what I can deduce this one is a type 89C movement.
Two Important strike-side Issues
The movement was in good condition overall. It was cleaned up and three new bushings were installed. The escape wheel bushings front and back were the most worn. The next was the fourth wheel front plate, adjacent to the escape wheel.
Testing the depthing of the wheels
One minor hiccup when reassembling was dealing with a broken helper spring on the lifting lever. Shortening the spring by taking one coil off the arbour did not pose any running issues.
Taken directly from the case on the day of purchase
However, once the cleaning and wear issues were addressed two other problems remained. The strike would not go into warning and the hammer did not move when the strike side was pushed to run.
It seems that whoever previously worked on it did not properly set up the strike side, likely neglecting to position the stop wheel correctly to ensure the strike mechanism would go into warning. Warning refers to a brief preparatory phase in the strike mechanism. This occurs just before the clock strikes. When the time approaches a strike point (such as the hour or half-hour), the movement enters the warning phase to prepare for the strike sequence. The warning phase is essential for ensuring the clock strikes consistently and on time. Improper setup of the warning phase can lead to the strike train failing to run.
While reassembling the movement, position the paddle lever in one of the indents on the cam while ensuring the paddle itself rests in a deep slot of the count wheel. The paddle should be straight into the deep slot without touching either side and pointed directly at the main wheel arbour.
The warning wheel can be adjusted after reassembly. Once all the wheels and levers are in their respective locations, carefully separate the plates slightly at the flywheel corner, ensuring no other components shift out of place. Then, when the pivot is out of its hole and the lantern pinion is disengaged from the adjacent gear, rotate the stop wheel until its pin meets the stop lever. If the levers are correctly positioned, the movement will enter the warning phase.
The stop wheel is at the upper right,with the pin
The second issue involved the hammer strike. A previous repairer had over-bent the strike rod, creating alignment problems. On the opposite side of the strike cam wheel are two striking pins, which the strike rod must reach to activate the hammer and sound the coiled gong. In this case, the rod had been positioned too close to the center, preventing it from contacting the strike pins. After some trial and error and careful bending of the strike rod, the movement is now properly aligned and able to sound the strike.
The final step is thorough testing. Placed on the test stand, the movement will be carefully monitored over the next several days to ensure everything functions smoothly and reliably.
A Special Note
I would also like to recognize Saint Valentine’s Day (February 14th) and I hope that everyone takes the time to cherish those around them, whether through a kind word, thoughtful gesture, or simply appreciating the moments that make life special. Happy Valentine’s Day!
For years, my Seth Thomas column and cornice clock rested atop an antique radio in our living room. However, after redecorating the space with hardwood flooring in place of the carpet, the radio and clock no longer suited the updated space.
Seth Thomas column and cornice “Empire” style time and strike weight driven shelf clock
I did not want to relegate the clock to storage, so I opted to find it a new spot in our home. Since most of the other rooms already had plenty of clocks, I decided to display it in my office.
This lovely Seth Thomas time and strike eight-day weight-driven column and cornice clock with hour strike features an attractive veneer case with cove molded crest, lyre movement, three-quarter columns in painted gold, and two glass doors, one with a reverse painted design, opening to the interior clock works which reveal a tin painted dial and the original printed and illustrated Seth Thomas clock makers label. It is 32″ tall, 18″ wide and 5“ deep.
The dial had some losses
The clock has one unique detail: while the lower tablet is original, the upper tablet was recreated from a photograph of hanging fruit, modified to complement the design below. Additionally, the dial, which had suffered some losses in the corners and chapter ring, was repainted.
The painted tin Roman Numeral dial has hand-decorated flower spandrels in all four corners with the centre portion of the brass lyre movement visible through the dial.
Among collectors an appropriate descriptor for this clock is “column and cornice” but it is also generally classified as a shelf clock. This particular clock features a hook on the top of its case, likely intended by a past owner for installation that way. While I have seen similar clocks mounted like this online, they were never originally designed to be hung.
However, the hook might serve an additional purpose. Given that these clocks can become top-heavy when fully wound, the hook could be an effective way to secure the clock to a wall, especially in areas where it might be easily bumped.
Building the Shelf
The first step was to build a shelf to accommodate the clock. I had some leftover 8-inch-deep pine boards from a previous project, which were ideal for this purpose. I purchased extra pine braces some time ago, and they turned out to be perfect for completing the project. I cut a piece about 22 inches long and painted it a shade of beige. The base of the clock is 18 inches leaving 2 inches on either side.
Pine board and braces
The next step was to mount the braces to the wall. Knowing the room had studs spaced 16 inches apart, I used a stud finder to locate the first stud and then measured 16 inches to find the second one.
Sixteen inches on centre
Once the braces were mounted and made level I installed the shelf using wood screws.
The clock is positioned on the shelf
Checking for the Correct Beat
Now to determine if the shelf is level and the clock is in beat. Using a Timetrax Clock Timing Machine I switched to the BAL feature to check the beat.
Timetrax microphone attached to the winding arbour
A beat adjustment was unnecessary as the clock was already leveled. If leveling were needed, it would simply involve slightly bending the crutch incrementally to find the beat. While checking the beat can easily be done by ear, it made sense to use my Timetrax device for greater precision.
Timetrax Clock Timing Machine
According to the Timetrax instruction manual If the beat is within plus or minus 20 the clock is in beat. In this case, it was almost dead on.
Seth Thomas clock mounted on a shelf (note repainted dial)
Once the beat is confirmed, the weights are replaced, the hands and dial can be reattached, and the pendulum is given a slight push.
After confirming the beat the clock was ready to be displayed in its new spot. This Seth Thomas column and cornice clock, with its exquisite veneer case and distinctive features, now takes pride of place in my office, where it brings an added touch of elegance to the room. Moreover, since the room houses many spring-driven clocks, a weight-driven clock will provide a more accurate reference for timekeeping.
I’m pleased to have found a new location for it, as it truly deserves to be on display.
As a clock repairer, there are several compelling reasons to keep the original mainsprings if they are still in good condition.
Keeping the original mainsprings ensures that the clock remains as close to its original condition as possible. Collectors and enthusiasts often value clocks with original parts, as they maintain the authenticity and historical significance of the clock.
Older brass mainsprings are not replaceable
Many older mainsprings were made with higher-quality steel and manufacturing techniques and modern replacements may not be of the same quality. Original springs, if well-preserved, may outperform modern equivalents in terms of durability and performance.
Consider the original design of the movement and how it is powered. The original mainspring is designed specifically for the clock’s movement, ensuring the proper balance of power delivery and running time. Replacements, even when sized correctly, may not deliver power consistently due to slight variations in material and design.
Modern mainsprings can sometimes deliver too much power, especially in delicate or vintage movements, leading to accelerated wear or damage to gears and pivots. Original springs are often “seasoned,” meaning they’ve been conditioned by years of use and may be gentler on the movement. Even replacements that have the same dimensions as the original are overpowered. Recommended replacement springs might overload the movement and lead to wear issues sooner rather than later.
Laurie Penman, who authors a regular feature in Clocks Magazine, stresses the importance of considering replacement springs in the September 2024 issue, stating “it bears repeating that if you fit a spring that approximates to the original nineteenth century the movement will be overloaded”.1
Cleaning an open mainspring
If the original mainspring is functional, reusing it can save the cost of purchasing a replacement. In fact, finding an exact replacement for some older or rare clocks can be very challenging for the repairer.
That said, we certainly do not need to send more items to landfill sites. Reusing parts when possible reduces waste and the environmental impact of manufacturing new components.
Inspect the mainsprings during every servicing
Part of servicing a clock movement includes inspecting and cleaning the mainsprings. While open mainsprings are easier to inspect and work with, some repairers may be tempted to skip cleaning those encased in barrels. It’s important to learn how to open mainspring barrels for proper maintenance.
Mainspring barrel
Over time, the mainspring(s) can accumulate old oil, dirt, rust, and debris, which can impede its smooth operation. Removing the mainspring from the barrel or open springs from a movement allows for proper cleaning and lubrication, ensuring the clock runs efficiently.
Open mainsprings that have been serviced
Removing the spring also allows you to apply fresh mainspring oil evenly along the entire length of the spring. But that is not the only reason.
When Should You Replace the Mainsprings?
Removing the mainspring allows you to thoroughly inspect it for any signs of wear, fatigue, or damage that might require replacement. If the spring is in good condition but the hook end is cracked, it can be reused by cutting the spring and fashioning a new hook end. This will make the spring slightly shorter.
However, after a thorough cleaning, the movement will run more efficiently and require less power to run through its designed cycle, be it a day or a week, two weeks, and so, there may be little to no effect from a shortened mainspring. That said, the task of repairing a mainspring is best suited for an experienced clockmaker.
The most straightforward solution for the novice is simply to replace the spring.
Although they may appear set to some, this spring is perfectly usable
As a clock repairer, I rarely replace a mainspring. Even if a mainspring appears “set,” it often still has functionality. The important step is to return the spring to the movement and test it to ensure it meets the required standard by completing its designed cycle. If there is a significant loss, a running time of 2-3 days for an 8-day clock, and if there are no other obvious issues the mainspring must be replaced.
For some, ensuring a clock runs while preserving its original parts might take priority, even if the original mainspring cannot power the clock through its designed cycle. It is therefore essential to balance preservation with functionality.
Using a spring winder while working on a spring within a barrel
By carefully evaluating the mainspring’s condition and the specific needs of the movement, you can make an informed decision that respects both the clock’s history and its mechanical performance.
The term minimal invasive intervention refers to the delicate decision-making process regarding how much work should be done to repair, restore, or conserve a clock without significantly altering its original character. It encapsulates a challenge many collectors face: balancing preservation with functionality.
Some argue that any work performed on an antique clock detracts from its value, much like installing new fenders on an antique car. While it may improve appearance or functionality, it might make the piece less desirable to purists. So, at what point does intervention—however well-intentioned—compromise a clock’s value?
When original parts, particularly the movement or key aesthetic features, are replaced with non-original or modern components, the clock often loses collector value. Authenticity is a cornerstone of desirability for collectors. Replacing a worn movement with a reproduction or modern equivalent significantly reduces value, even if it restores functionality.
Excessive restoration, such as refinishing to a like-new condition, can erase the patina, wear, or other marks of age that contribute to the clock’s historical character. Collectors value the evidence of a clock’s journey through time.
Alterations that cannot be undone, such as resizing a case, changing its design, or permanently altering the movement, reduce value. Reversibility is crucial in maintaining collector interest.
Intervention may not compromise value if the repair restores function without altering original materials or craftsmanship. Rebushing and cleaning are interventions but are generally considered acceptable practices.
I always maintain that there should be Respectfor Provenance, that is, preserving historical repairs, markings, documentation, and patina when they tell the clock’s story through the ages. In addition, using methods and materials appropriate to the clock’s era maintain authenticity.
Let’s look at some definitions.
Repair, Restoration, and Conservation Defined
Repair involves correcting faults or addressing prior poor repairs, often resulting in changes to a clock’s form or function. Repair in a museum context typically addresses specific problems to restore mechanical function or structural integrity while still respecting the clock’s historical value and authenticity.
Restoration seeks to return the clock to an “as new” condition, sometimes requiring reconstruction of parts of the movement or case. Restoration in a museum context involves returning an antique clock to a state that reflects its original appearance or function, often as close as possible to how it was when first made.
Conservation focuses on preserving the clock in its current state while protecting it from further deterioration. This approach aims to maintain the clock as close to its original condition as possible for as long as possible. Conservation in this context prioritizes maintaining the clock’s historical authenticity and ensuring it can be studied and appreciated by future generations. This approach is guided by principles of reversibility, documentation, and respect for the original materials and craftsmanship. A reversible repair means future conservators can undo them if needed.
Some amount of intervention is often necessary and even desired by collectors, but how much is always a delicate balance.
A Case in Point: 1878 E. Ingraham Huron Clock
E Ingraham Hurons were made between 1878 and 1880
Take, for example, an 1878 E. Ingraham Huron time-and-strike balloon clock from my collection. The 16-inch high rosewood case is remarkably well-preserved for its 146 years, with no breaks, cracks, or missing pieces. The hands, pendulum bob, sash, and bezel hardware are all original, as is the movement. The case has been gently cleaned with soap and water and given a light coat of shellac for protection.
The clock face retains a layer of grime that contributes to its aged character, which I chose to leave untouched. However, the movement has suffered from less-than-professional repairs, likely due to the lack of skilled clockmakers in small-town Nova Scotia (Canada) during the clock’s early life. These repairs include soldered joints and realigned gears with pivot holes drilled directly into the plates—techniques probably applied in the 1940s, when soldering guns became more accessible.
Solder repair on the Huronmovement
The clock ran for two or three days before stopping, and even nudging the pendulum provides only a temporary fix. On removing the movement from its case, the extent of these invasive repairs becomes more apparent. Even more apparent was the need for a full servicing.
Solder repair on the second wheel
Deciding on the Right Approach
After consulting a certified horologist, we discussed the options: repair, restore, or conserve? He shared an example of a customer’s kitchen clock (or “Gingerbread clock”), a common family heirloom. While these clocks are rarely of high monetary value, they often hold deep sentimental significance.
He typically repairs such clocks but occasionally replaces irreparable movements with period-correct ones—an option acceptable to many owners, but one that collectors generally frown upon and approach I did not care for.
In the case of my Huron, replacing the movement would significantly reduce its value as a collector’s item. Restoring the original movement, however, would maintain its authenticity and desirability. That is the route we took.
Guiding Questions for Intervention
When deciding how to proceed with any antique or vintage clock, I consider the following:
Does undoing damage from a previous poor repair qualify as overly invasive?
If the repair was performed soon after the clock was made and is historically documented (e.g., markings inside the case), should it remain untouched?
Does the poor repair add or subtract from the clock’s historical provenance, making it part of its story?
Would restoring the movement to its original state be considered a repair or a restoration?
Does removing all solder work qualify as a minimally invasive intervention?
Will the repair enhance or detract from the clock’s value?
Would leaving the clock unrestored qualify as conservation?
The poor repair needed to be addressed. I believe that correcting a subpar repair will always restore the clock’s functionality without diminishing its value. Since only minimal work was done on the case and nothing was done to the dial, I would classify this approach as a repair plus conservation.
The Collector’s Dilemma
Collectors often value clocks that remain as untouched as possible. A pristine, unaltered antique clock that runs is exceedingly rare. However, some intervention is inevitable if the goal is to preserve function, as long as it respects the clock’s historical and aesthetic integrity.
In my view, conservation and repair align most closely with minimal invasive intervention and restoration is inherently more intrusive. Deciding how far to go with a clock involves weighing its historical significance, its condition, and your goals as a collector or caretaker.
When I acquire a clock, the first question I ask is: what outcome am I aiming for based on the price I paid? For inexpensive mantel clocks, I’m willing to undertake extensive case repairs, recognizing that a clock purchased cheaply likely won’t gain significant value. However, for more desirable clocks, I adopt a more cautious approach, carefully determining the minimal work needed to restore functionality and enhance the case’s appearance.
I’d like to hear your views on this subject and how you approach this delicate balance!
Some time ago, I discussed clock repair in the old days with a horologist acquaintance who completed work on my 138-year-old E. Ingraham Huron mantel clock in my collection. He had just spoken with an 82-year-old friend who spent most of his life in clock repair, reminiscing about how different things were “back in the day.”
I wondered what he meant by “different.” Were things genuinely better in clock repair back then? Let’s take a step back in time.
E Ingraham Huron
Imagine a typical Canadian home in the 1920s or 1930s. In those days, a clock was more than just a decorative piece; it was a vital appliance—just like a refrigerator or washing machine.
For most households, clocks were bought for one simple purpose: to tell time. Often, it was the only timekeeping device in the home, especially for working-class families. And although mechanical clocks were not the most accurate, people did not expect them to be precise to the second. As long as the clock was within a minute or two each week, it was more than up to the task.
These clocks were inexpensive, functional, and built to withstand some wear and tear. My own Arthur Pequegnat “Fan Top” kitchen clock, for instance, was sold for $5 when new in 1912—a significant investment when the average worker earned around $12.75 weekly.
Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf “Fan Top” kitchen clock
Despite the cost, having a clock in the home was essential for various reasons. When a clock inevitably stopped, it needed a quick and affordable repair, often done by a local tinkerer rather than a professional. This could be a tradesperson like a mechanic or handyman. In rural areas like Nova Scotia, Canada, trained horologists were rare, and even when available, their services could be prohibitively expensive.
The local “tinkerers” kept neighbors’ clocks running, relying on basic tools found around the house: a hammer, pliers, a punch, a file, and a screwdriver. In those days specialized tools for clock repair were expensive and hard to come by and only a jeweler could afford such luxury. Tinkerers often used improvised methods; for instance, they might close a worn pivot hole with a punch or, by the 1940s, use a soldering gun to attach a brass piece, creating a new pivot hole when needed.
Solder repair and re-located pivot hole on an American movement
Cleaning solutions were equally unrefined—soaking movements overnight in gasoline, then oiling them with household oils like motor oil. Reflecting on the cleaning methods of those early tinkerers, the use of gasoline and other flammable solvents to clean clock movements stands out not only for its crudeness but for the inherent danger it posed.
Gasoline was relatively inexpensive and readily available, which made it an attractive option for a low-cost, no-frills clock cleaner. However, using such a volatile substance to clean intricate brass and steel components was not without significant risk.
The workspace for these repairs was often an unheated shed, garage, or basement without proper ventilation, increasing the risk. In these confined spaces, the fumes would linger, building up to dangerous levels. One careless move, and the result could be disastrous, not only for the tinkerer but for anyone in proximity.
The Quick Fix
“Quick fixes” were typically short-term and would eventually lead to further repairs. Still, the customer was satisfied if their clock came back ticking, and they paid only a nominal fee for the service.
These short-term fixes often involved unconventional methods. For instance, rather than replacing worn bushings—small bearings that support moving parts—a tinkerer might use a punch to “close” a pivot hole by pushing the metal back into place. This would hold the pivot for a while, but it also introduced more wear, which would lead to increasingly frequent repairs as the pivot wore down the surrounding material. Other techniques included using adhesives, shims, or rudimentary re-soldering to hold parts together temporarily.
For lubrication, household oils like 3-in-1 were a staple, though they were not formulated for delicate clock movements. These oils would initially help gears move smoothly, but over time, they could become sticky, causing grime to build up and eventually slowing the movement once again. Each time a clock came back for a fix, the tinkerer would apply another short-term solution, usually at little or no cost to the customer, who was primarily concerned with keeping the clock functional.
The cumulative effect of these fixes meant that many clocks would eventually suffer irreversible wear. The gears and pivots would lose their integrity, requiring a complete overhaul if they were to be restored to original condition.
However, it’s worth mentioning that these clocks were not seen as heirlooms or prized possessions; they were utilitarian items. For customers, the reliability and exact timekeeping ability of the clock was not as important as affordability and functionality—if it ticked, it was good enough.
The Emergence of the Electric Clock
In the 1930s, synchronous electric clocks began to replace mechanical ones in homes with electricity. However, in many rural areas, families continued relying on their mechanical clocks, repairing them as needed until electric clocks eventually phased them out.
While many of those old clocks were abandoned, some became cherished family keepsakes passed down through generations.
Today, antique clocks hold a different status; we value their craftsmanship and history. When they need repairs, we use all manner of specialized modern tools—bushing machines, broaches, spring winders, and lathes—to restore them with precision. The result is a repair that lasts, leaving our clocks “better than ever.”
Remembering past tinkers
Yet, it’s important to remember the tinkerers of the past. In their time, they provided an essential service, keeping communities running on time. While we might wince at some of their makeshift repairs and call them “butchers,” those tinkerers were problem-solvers.
Speaking with my friend the horologist helped me better appreciate the humble, practical repairs of the past and the indispensable role these community tinkerers played.
When I encounter a clock with a “homemade” repair, I assess the quality of the work. If the repair, however crude, has stood the test of time, I often choose to leave it as is, recognizing it as part of the clock’s unique history.
Modern Repairs
Clock repair today is a world apart from the makeshift methods used by tinkerers of the past. Modern horologists have access to advanced, highly specialized tools—bushing machines, ultrasonic cleaners, spring winders, precision lathes—that allow them to restore and even improve upon the original functionality of antique clocks. This level of precision would have been unimaginable to the early tinkerers who often relied on a handful of common household tools, improvising as they went along.
Olie Baker spring winder
For them, a hammer, screwdriver, file, and eventually a soldering iron were the core of their toolkit. These tools were not intended for delicate clockwork but were adapted out of necessity, resulting in quick fixes rather than long-lasting repairs.
Enlarging a hole with Bergeon bushing machine
The philosophy behind clock repair has also evolved dramatically. Modern repairs focus on preserving the integrity of the clock, respecting the craftsmanship of its original makers. Each repair is a detailed process, and the goal is longevity. Modern techniques consider the clock’s historical value, aiming to keep its character intact while ensuring that it runs smoothly for years. This contrasts with the approach of early tinkerers, who were less concerned with historical value and more focused on getting the clock running again as quickly and affordably as possible.
Materials and cleaning methods today are specifically formulated for delicate clockwork. High-quality brass bushings, synthetic clock oils, and non-flammable cleaning agents protect the movement and prevent unnecessary wear. In the past, tinkerers often resorted to materials that were easily accessible but not ideal for clock repair. These methods may have restored basic function, but they often led to increased wear over time, necessitating further repairs and eventually compromising the clock’s condition.
In the early 20th century clock repairs were practical, unrefined, and performed with whatever was on hand. On the other hand, modern horologists have become part conservators, honoring the original makers by using high-quality techniques that preserve each clock as a historical artifact.
Modern horologists can train extensively, gaining a nuanced understanding of clock mechanics and restoration practices. Tinkerers, on the other hand, were often self-taught, relying on trial and error, observation, or advice from others. Many of them fixed clocks in their spare time, making do with limited resources and no formal training. Their skills were functional, focusing on keeping clocks ticking within the practical constraints of everyday life.
Today, when a clock is restored, we think of it as honoring history, a far cry from the “just make it tick” mindset of the past. Both approaches, however, share a common thread: a dedication to keeping time alive.
Are you searching for a unique gift for a friend or family member? Have you ever considered giving an antique or vintage clock? It is the perfect, memorable gift.
Whether you’re familiar with antique and vintage clocks or completely new to the world of horology, you will need guidance in finding the right clock for that special someone. Here are a few pointers, along with explanations of some common terms you face.
Why Choose an Antique or Vintage Clock?
Last year, I sold a clock to a young woman looking for a unique gift for her father. She told me it was exactly what she wanted because it reminded her of a clock they had when she was a child. Sentimental value, a love for antiques, a return to our simpler past, or the unique charm of an old mechanical clock are reasons why people are drawn to these timeless clocks.
Antique, Vintage or Collectible
Determining the age of a clock can be challenging, especially since listings often don’t specify the exact year the clock was made. However, you might come across phrases like “mid-century”, antique, collectible, or vintage which can give you a general sense of its age. A quick search online can also help you narrow it down.
As a rule of thumb, an antique is something that is over 100 years old, while a vintage item is between 30 and 100 years old. Anything less than 30 years old may sometimes be considered vintage, but it’s often labeled as collectible instead.
Choosing the Right Type of Clock
Space is a key consideration.
Seth Thomas Mantel clock
With the trend toward smaller homes, not everyone has room for a large clock. Mantel clocks, for instance, require a shelf or table. Some are small, time-only pieces, while others have more complex movements like Westminster chimes and are housed in larger cases. Alarm and desk clocks are the most compact.
German wall box clock
Wall clocks are easier to place and come in a wide range of sizes, from small cuckoo clocks to large box clocks and Vienna regulators.
Ridgeway grandfather clock
Floor clocks, also known as grandfather or grandmother clocks, tall-case, long-case, or hall clocks, are the hardest to accommodate. Unless the recipient has sufficient floor space and an appreciation for such a clock, it will not be the best choice.
What About a Non-Working Clock?
A working clock that has been recently serviced by a skilled clock repairer is ideal. However, if the clock is intended more as a decorative piece, a non-working clock may be less expensive. Just be cautious if it has a replacement quartz movement and know what you’re buying.
Tips for Buying a Clock
Here are a few tips to keep in mind:
Look for a working clock; it’s more likely to have been well cared for.
Consider sources like Facebook Marketplace, eBay, local online for-sale sites (in Nova Scotia, we have Kijiji), reputable estate auctions, antique stores, and word of mouth.
Most common clocks are reasonably priced because they are plentiful though rare or historically significant ones can be more expensive.
Meet the seller in person if you can. You can check the condition of the item firsthand, which might reveal issues not visible in photos or descriptions. You can ask the seller questions directly about the item’s history, usage, and any other details that might be important. You can verify the authenticity of the item, which is particularly important for valuable or collectible items and you can often negotiate the price more effectively in person.
Avoid clocks made in China or Korea, especially those with directional arrows around the winding points. They look inexpensive and are made with cost-saving in mind. The powerful mainsprings of a 31-day movement can be dangerous if they break.
The brand of the clock isn’t necessarily important. Many American clockmakers produced both high-end and budget-friendly models.
Consider whether it matters to you if the clock has been altered. For example, many old ogee clocks have had their movements replaced when the original failed. In the clock world, these are called marriages, and they may or may not be important to you.
Whenever possible, carefully inspect the clock in person before purchasing. Surprises are rarely pleasant when your online purchase doesn’t meet expectations.
A little research goes a long way, but knowing nothing is worse than knowing just a little.
I hope these tips give you something to consider as you search for that perfect clock. While I’m not in the business of selling clocks, I do occasionally sell one locally to keep my collection manageable.
Determining the age of a clock can be challenging, especially since listings often don’t specify the exact year the clock was made. However, you might come across phrases like “mid-century”, antique, collectible, or vintage which can give you a general sense of its age. If the description is accurate, it provides a good starting point for determining the age of the clock.
As a rule of thumb, an antique is something that is over 100 years old, while a vintage item is between 30 and 100 years old. Anything less than 30 years old may sometimes be considered vintage, but it’s often labeled as collectible instead.
Mauthe clock from the 1950s
Dating a clock can indeed be challenging, but it’s an essential part of understanding its history, value, and significance. Here are some thoughts and strategies to help narrow down the age of a clock:
Identifying Maker’s Marks and Signatures
One of the most reliable ways to date a clock is by identifying the maker’s mark or signature. Some clockmakers stamped or engraved their name, logo, or serial number on the movement, dial, or case. Researching the history of the maker may not offer an exact date but will often provide a time frame for when the clock was produced.
McLachlan tall-case clock with painted dial was made in Newton Stewart, Scotland in 1848
Some manufacturers used serial numbers that can be cross-referenced with production records or databases maintained by collectors or horological societies. Having a serial number doesn’t always guarantee that it can be cross-referenced with a database, as clock databases are often not accessible online.
This Tompion tall case clock can be accurately dated
Analyzing the Style and Design
The design of the clock case can provide clues to its age. For example, Gothic Revival designs were popular in the mid-19th century, while Art Deco styles were prevalent in the 1920s and 1930s. Recognizing these stylistic trends can help you estimate the clock’s production period.
Another example is the German box clock, which gained popularity after Vienna-style clocks fell out of fashion in the early 20th century, remaining in vogue until around 1935.
Vienna-style time and strike clock by Mauthe C. 1900
The style of the clock’s dial can also be indicative of its age. Painted dials were common in the early 19th century, while enamel and porcelain dials became more popular later on. The use of Roman versus Arabic numerals can also offer hints, with Arabic numerals becoming more common in the 20th century.
Logos can be used to date a clock. Trademark logos are typically stamped on the clock movement. Manufacturers modified their trademark design from time to time. As companies grew and evolved, their branding shifted to reflect new values, target markets, or aesthetic trends.
Evolution of the Mauthe brand
Movement Type
The type of movement inside the clock can also be a good indicator of its age. For example, early mechanical movements with verge escapements date back to the 17th and 18th centuries, while spring-driven movements became common from 1840 onward.
The introduction of electric movements in the early 20th century marked a significant shift in clockmaking.
Sessions electric clock from the early 1920s
If the clock has a pendulum, its design can also be telling. Early pendulums were often long and ornate, while later ones might be shorter and simpler.
The introduction of the torsion pendulum, used in anniversary clocks, dates to the late 19th century.
Many clocks made after 1950 used an adjustable floating balance escapement that was less sensitive to variations in temperature and external influences. This stability results in more accurate timekeeping compared to traditional escapements.
Materials Used
The type of wood or veneer used in the clock’s case can help date it. Certain woods were more popular in specific eras, such as oak in the late 19th century or walnut in the early 20th century. Rosewood veneer was particularly popular in the mid-19th century, often used to create an elegant and luxurious finish on clock cases.
The materials used in the clock’s movement and case can also provide clues. For example, brass was widely used in clock movements from the 18th century onwards, while cheaper metal alloys became common in the 20th century.
Patent Dates
Some clocks, especially those from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, include patent dates on the movement or case. While the patent date itself doesn’t indicate when the clock was made, it provides a “no-earlier-than” date. For example, if a patent date of 1915 is stamped on the movement, the clock was made after that year.
Labels and Documentation
Many clocks, especially those from the 19th and early 20th centuries, came with paper labels on the back or inside the case. These labels often include the maker’s name, the place of manufacture, and sometimes even the model or patent date. For American-made clocks, the address of the label printer often provides a clue to the clock’s manufacturing date as shops often relocated.
Hamilton Clock Company label
The country of origin can also influence the style and dating of a clock. For instance, certain types of clocks were more prevalent in specific regions, like the tall-case (grandfather) clocks in England during the 18th century, or the ornate mantel clocks popular in France in the 19th century.
If the clock has been in the same family for generations, old sales receipts, repair records, or original packaging can provide valuable information about its age.
Any accompanying documentation with the clock could offer some valuable clues. The certificate of guarantee from the retailer [see below] indicates a sale date of May 18, 1930, meaning the clock was manufactured before this date. It could have been made several months or even a year or two prior, though the exact date of manufacture remains unknown.
Research and Expert Consultation
There are many reference books and catalogs dedicated to specific types of clocks, makers, and periods. These resources can be invaluable in identifying and dating a clock.
Clock magazines provide well-researched insights into clocks
Tran Duy Lyis a well-known author and expert in the field of antique clocks and horology. He is particularly renowned for his extensive series of reference books on antique clocks, which are highly regarded by collectors, dealers, and enthusiasts. His books typically feature detailed information, photographs, and pricing guides for various types of clocks, including those by specific manufacturers like Seth Thomas, Ansonia, and Gilbert.
Ly’s works have become essential resources for those looking to identify, appraise, and learn more about antique clocks, and his name is synonymous with authoritative clock references in the horological community.
If you’re uncertain about the age of a clock, consulting with a professional appraiser or horologist can provide you with a more accurate assessment. Experts can often recognize subtle details and variations that indicate the clock’s age.
Conclusion
Dating a clock requires a combination of research, observation, and sometimes expert consultation. By examining the maker’s marks, design, movement type, materials, and other characteristics, you can often narrow down the clock’s age to a specific period or even a precise year. Understanding these details not only enhances the clock’s historical significance but also helps in determining its value and collectibility.
In the fascinating world of horology, many terms and expressions are often misunderstood or misused. A classic example is the frequent confusion between the words “mantel” and “mantle” to describe certain types of clocks. While “mantel” refers to a shelf over a fireplace, “mantle” is something you wear, like a cloak.
Another pervasive myth is the notion of “over-winding” a clock. How many times have you heard, “It was running fine until I over-wound it”? This phrase is commonly found on clock forums, Facebook groups, and among enthusiasts. However, attributing clock malfunctions to over-winding is a misunderstanding of how clocks operate.
American time and strike clock movement
While it is technically possible for a mainspring to be damaged by excessive tightening—winding it until it’s tight and then continuing to wind it further—this is not the primary cause of most clock failures. The real issues often stem from different sources.
Consider the spring barrel, as shown in the photo below.
When the spring is wound, it coils tightly around the winding arbor, with the other end hooked to a small stud inside the barrel. This hook can become fatigued over time due to repeated excessive winding or the riveted stud can break free, but this is not the typical cause of a clock stopping.
In American open mainspring clocks, what appears to be “over-winding” is often a result of old oil, rust, and dirt accumulating in the mainspring coil. These contaminants can cause the coil to stick and seize somewhat like the action of an adhesive, making it “seem” as though the clock is “over-wound.”
This spring is re-useable
When I receive a clock that is said to be “overwound”, I use a let-down tool to release the mainspring partially or completely, apply mainspring oil generously, and then rewind the clock. This step will help in some cases, but it’s important to note that it doesn’t replace a thorough cleaning or address other potential issues that might be causing the clock to stop.
The letdown key
Disassembling the movement and removing the mainspring allows for a proper inspection. Dirt and old oil can be cleaned, light rust can be removed with emery paper or steel wool, and heavy rust necessitates the replacement of the mainspring. The spring should also be checked for cracks or breaks. Often, a mainspring in good condition can be salvaged with proper care even if there are minor problems with the connecting section of the spring.
I frequently reuse mainsprings in my clock repairs, as long as they are not “set.” A mainspring is considered “set” when it has developed permanent deformations or has lost its original flexibility and strength due to repeated use or overstressing. In such cases, reusing the mainspring compromises the clock’s reliability and shortens its operational cycle.
When a mainspring is “set,” I typically replace it to ensure the clock functions optimally and to avoid potential issues. If I were operating a clock repair business, I would replace the mainsprings as a standard practice and pass the cost onto the customer.
“C” clamps used to contain the power of the mainspring
Another potential issue is the click mechanism. In some clocks, such as those made by Sessions for example, the click rivets can become fatigued and fail. Inspecting and repairing/replacing this component is a common procedure in clock servicing.
Worn click on Sessions movement
When buying a new clock, do not assume it has been recently serviced unless the seller can confirm it. If there’s no assurance of recent servicing, plan to have the movement serviced as soon as possible either by yourself or a competent professional.
Regular maintenance is crucial for any mechanical clock to ensure its longevity and proper function.
“Over-winding” is a myth that often misguides clock enthusiasts. The real causes of clock issues are typically related to dirt, old oil, or mechanical wear, not the act of winding the clock. Understanding this can help in better troubleshooting and maintaining your cherished antique or vintage clock.
In a previous article on servicing this clock, I mentioned the challenge I faced with the mainspring. With only minimal tools at my disposal and no spring winder, I was determined to find a solution and successfully service the mainspring.
This clock was manufactured by New Haven and boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style.
The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.
Given the condition of the case, I anticipated that the movement would be just as well-worn. It was in better condition than I thought.
New Haven 8-day time-only movement
Let me point out that the servicing is being done under less-than-ideal conditions. I am at our summer cottage with only the basic tools for clock repair, so I must either improvise or skip certain procedures.
No spring winder | no problem
The movement had already been restrained with a heavy copper wire.
A heavy copper wire contains the mainspring
First, partially reassemble the movement with only the main wheel and second wheels. Reattach the front plate and secure the movement with the 4 pillar nuts.
Attaching the second wheel allows the main wheel to be stabilized while the spring is wound using the ratchet.
Safety first
I strongly recommend wearing leather work gloves and eye protection. Handling mainsprings under tension can be hazardous, so prioritizing safety is crucial. Precautions are essential to protect yourself from potential injuries.
Next steps
The key is to hold onto the second wheel while winding the clock. Once fully wound the copper restraining wire can be removed. In the photo below the screwdriver is arresting the wheel while I take the photo.
Then, using a letdown tool, release the click by popping out the click spring from the rachet and allowing the mainspring to unwind. The main wheel with the relaxed spring can now be safely removed from the movement.
The letdown tool is on the right
Servicing involves carefully removing the main wheel from the spring, manually inspecting and cleaning the spring, re-oiling it, and reconnecting it with the main wheel.
The mainspring is removed from the main wheel for cleaning
Reassembly
After cleaning the main wheel and the spring, simply reverse the procedure. Reattach the click spring, join the main wheel and the mainspring, place them back in the movement along with the second wheel, wind the spring, and secure it again with the copper restraining wire. Once this is done, you can continue to reassemble the movement.
May not be suitable for all applications
This approach allows the main wheel to be cleaned in the ultrasonic cleaner along with all the other movement parts.
While this method may not be suitable for all open mainspring designs, it might be the solution for you.
Servicing a mainspring without a spring winder isn’t ideal, it can still be done safely and effectively.
Servicing this movement is reminiscent of days gone by when Dad (or Mom) would gather tools from the shed to fix the family clock. The repair might not have been perfect, but the goal was always to keep the clock running reliably until the next time it needed attention.
My collection of wall clocks includes several schoolhouse models and I am continually impressed by their resilience despite their age.
While many of these clocks spent their lives in school rooms, some ended up in commercial establishments and offices, often neglected until they stopped working. I’ve seen clocks with bushing holes so enlarged it’s a miracle they still ran at all.
This particular clock, manufactured by New Haven, boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style.
The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.
Given the condition of the case, I anticipated that the movement would be just as well-worn.
Let me point out that the servicing is being done under less-than-ideal conditions. I am at our summer cottage with only the basic tools for clock repair, so I must either improvise or skip certain procedures.
Removing the movement
After removing the hour and minute hands, you will find that three screws hold the dial in place. Once these screws are removed, the next step is to take out two movement blocks that secure the movement. This is done by unscrewing the blocks (each held by two wood screws) and then pulling out the movement. Once out the blocks can be removed.
The movement is held by movement blocks
Disassembly and inspection
The first step is to contain the power of the mainspring. Since I did not have access to my standard equipment, I had to improvise. I would normally use a C-clamp to restrain the mainspring, but with none available, I used a stiff piece of copper wire and wrapped it around the mainspring. Not ideal but it works.
Safely restrained mainspring
The movement is in surprisingly good condition.
The top (front) plate is removed
Once the wheels are out it is time to visually inspect the components including the gear teeth, pivots, escape wheel pallets, the condition of the manispring, and lantern pinions.
The parts are laid out for inspection
Before placing the parts into the ultrasonic cleaner, I clean the pivot holes with toothpicks and wipe off any excess dirt and oil. Since I plan to reuse the ultrasonic cleaner several times, putting excessively dirty parts into the cleaning solution can shorten its lifespan.
Opinions vary on whether mainsprings should be cleaned in an ultrasonic cleaner. I believe it’s a matter of judgment. If I am not planning to reuse the cleaning solution (mainspring oil can render the solution unusable) and can thoroughly dry the springs, I have had good results by placing them in the ultrasonic cleaner.
In this situation, I have opted not to clean the mainspring in a solution.
Next is the reassembly of the movement leaving out the main wheel and mainspring. Without tension on the wheels, this is a simple way of determining wear.
Wheels that move laterally suggest enlarged pivot holes. Lateral movement affects the meshing of the gears and with enough wear the gears do not mesh properly and the clock will stop.
Checking for lateral movement
In this movement, the third-wheel front plate shows the most wear. However, it is not worn enough to require a new bushing at this time. If I were in the clock repair business and this was a customer’s clock, I would definitely address the need for a new bushing. This is compounded by the fact that I do not have bushing tools with me.
The pivots exhibit no significant wear, as confirmed by the fingernail test, which revealed no ridges. If you feel any ridges, grooves, or irregularities, it indicates wear on the pivot. A smooth pivot suggests minimal or no wear. Although I had to use a portable power drill for cleaning/polishing, the cleaning process was satisfactory despite it not being the ideal method.
My main challenge is the mainspring. I’m currently working with minimal tools and would like to service the mainspring, but I don’t have a spring winder.
Mainspring and first wheel
I am determined to service the mainspring and will find a solution within the next day or so, reporting on the procedures as I go. In the meantime, this is as far as I can proceed with this movement.
Accepting the schoolhouse clock as a restoration project, I was prepared for the inevitable wear and tear it had endured over time. Despite its condition, I wondered what it would look like if the case was rejuvenated.
Decisions, decisions.
My collection of wall clocks includes several schoolhouse models and I am continually impressed by their resilience despite their age.
These clocks, renowned for their durability, keep time reliably, even in well-worn condition.
While many of these clocks spent their lives in school rooms, some ended up in commercial establishments and offices, often neglected until they stopped working. I’ve seen clocks with bushing holes so enlarged it’s a wonder they still ran.
This particular clock, manufactured by New Haven, boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style. Its standout feature is the reverse painted glass on the access door, allowing the decorative pendulum bob to be seen in motion.
The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.
Is it even worth fixing? However, let’s look at the movement.
The movement
I am impressed by the size and construction of the movement. The plate measures 5 inches tall and 3 inches wide, but it extends to 5 1/2 inches wide when including the main wheel and the third wheel. It is one of the larger time-only movements I have seen in an antique clock. Two wood blocks secure the movement to the case.
Movement in the case
It has been challenging to determine the date of manufacture of the movement, even though the trademark design should provide some clues. Despite searching through antique clock forums, the best match I found was an identical movement in a Cambria wall clock, which had no trademark but featured pins instead of nuts to hold the plates together.
Cambria wall clock
According to this siteNew Haven began using this trademark style in 1890.
New Haven trademark, 9 3/4 refers to the pendulum length
Although it looks clean, my plan is to take it apart and assess what needs to be done. Join me in my next article as I guide you through servicing the movement.
Mechanical clocks, especially older or larger ones, can pose various dangers during operation and maintenance. In this post, we will cover some of the risks and hazards.
Mainsprings
Do not underestimate the power of a clock with mainsprings. Mechanical clocks often use powerful mainsprings to drive their mechanisms. If these components are mishandled, they can release a significant amount of stored energy suddenly (potential energy), with the risk of causing serious injury.
Mainsprings restrained with “C” clamps
Without the right knowledge and tools, attempting to disassemble or reassemble a mechanical clock can result in damage to the clock and potential injury. When working on a clock and particularly when disassembling clock movements ensure that the mainsprings are safely secured. The best way is to use a specially designed mainspring clamp.
“C” clamps or a strong wire are considered safe methods in clock repair.
Even the simple act of winding a clock can produce a nasty surprise since the sudden release of tension in a mainspring can be dangerous.
I almost lost my thumb when the click let go on the strike side of a Mauthe wall clock while winding it.
Damaged thumbnail but I survived
If I am unsure of the mechanical condition of a clock particularly one that I have recently acquired, I always wind it with my letdown key set. That way I can control it if the click lets go. If I follow that simple rule I don’t get hurt.
A letdown set used to safely wind a newly acquired clock
Gears and sharp components
The gears, escapements, and other moving parts can cause pinching injuries. These parts may also be sharp or have pointed edges, increasing the risk of cuts.
The delicate nature of some clock components, such as thin gears or escapement wheels, can break easily. Working on them without proper knowledge or tools can damage the clock and possible injury from sharp, broken pieces may result.
Mercury
Some antique clocks may contain materials known to be hazardous, such as mercury in pendulums or lead-based solder. Exposure to these materials can pose health risks. For example, most American-made crystal regulator clocks have nickel slugs in glass vials for the pendulum that resembles mercury at first glance. They are completely safe to handle.
Note the pendulum bob in this clock
In contrast, French-made four-glass clocks often contain actual mercury pendulums, which if handled can pose a poisoning risk. The purpose of mercury is to maintain accurate timekeeping despite temperature variations.
The degree of mercury toxicity depends on how much contact one has with it. Here is an excellent article I found on the risks involved and precautions when handling mercury.
Electric clocks
Early electric clocks can pose a significant risk of electric shock if not properly handled or if the wiring is faulty. These clocks are often improperly grounded, and may have worn cords with exposed wire. Those that run hot to the touch when operating are particularly dangerous. Switches and knobs and other components are designed according to past standards and lack the safety protocols of today’s designs.
The danger of electric shock may increase during maintenance or operation.
Sessions 3W electric table clock C.1930
Electric clocks are best handled by individuals knowledgeable about electrical components and their operation.
Radium
Clocks, especially older alarm clocks with luminous dials can pose a significant risk. The culprit is radium. Even a clock that has lost its luminescence may still have traces of radium on its dial or particulate matter that has fallen from the clock-face making them equally dangerous.
As much as you may be curious about how these clocks work, leave them alone and appreciate them as decorations or alternatively, safely dispose of them.
Baby Ben, made in China(a later design with safe luminous material)
It must be emphasized that Inhalation or ingestion of flakes or dust containing radioactive materials is extremely dangerous.
Clock tools and equipment
When working on clock springs or components when there is a potential risk of injury or with tools like a lathe, consider wearing leather gloves, and an apron, along with face/eye protection as needed.
Gloves and safety goggles are an important consideration when working with mainsprings. A winding arbor breaking in a mainspring winder or a mainspring letting go while winding it up might result in the spring, wheel, and arbor flying around the room and possibly toward the repair person.
Thick leather gloves used for spring maintenance
Using a Dremel machine without proper eye protection, especially with wire brushes that rotate at high speeds, can easily lead to serious eye injuries if a piece of wire breaks off.
In sum
To mitigate all risks, it is important to have a good understanding of the clock’s mechanism, use appropriate tools, follow safety procedures, and possibly seek training or assistance from an experienced clockmaker. If you ignore common sense, accidents are sure to follow.
A dirty clock movement ready to be serviced
Those new to clock repair may be eager to dive in and take things apart. However, a slow and cautious approach with a focus on safety will reap benefits in the long term.
My collection of clocks is divided between my home in Nova Scotia and our cottage in Central Canada. Part of my collection is there because I am not the type of person who abandons a hobby; I make it a part of my everyday life.
Although not an even split, about 15% of the collection is at our summer cottage in central Canada. The clocks at the cottage, though not particularly special, add a charming ambiance to the space. They often serve as great conversation starters when guests are over, contributing to the cozy and inviting atmosphere.
Let’s begin in the sunroom, the focal centre of our cottage. In this room are two German box clocks, a Mauthe and a Kienzle, which has been a recent acquisition. Joining the two box clocks is a 30-hour Ansonia cottage clock.
Mauthe time and strike box clock(the wall to the left is under construction)Kienzle time and strike box clock
Check out this recently posted article for more information on the Kienzle clock.
Ansonia 30-hour cottage clock
Inside the main part of the cottage which comprises the kitchen, dining, and living area are 3 clocks, a Hemle time and strike weight-driven wall clock, passed on by my wife’s uncle, known as a wag-on-a-wall clock, an Empire time-only gallery-style clock from England, and a 30-hour New Haven miniature ogee.
This New Haven clock might look good from a distance, but closer inspection reveals that the front veneer has been stripped, likely due to significant loss or damage. This condition is not common with old veneered cases but unfortunately, it is what it is.
New Haven mini ogee clock
In our bedroom is one clock, and one clock only, and it is placed there for a reason. It is a time-only GIlbert gallery clock. Gallery clocks, in other parts of the world, may be known pub-clocks, canteen clocks, or office clocks.
Gilbert gallery clock
This time-only gallery-style clock made by the Gilbert Company of USA is nondescript and quite ordinary looking. There is nothing special or distinctive about it but it is in excellent condition.
Check out this articleon how having a clock in the bedroom can aid in getting a restful night’s sleep. The article describes how providing a gentle reminder of the time helps regulate your sleep patterns and creates a more restful environment.
So, there you have it—time flies at my summer cottage with these clocks. They may not be particularly special, but they surely tick all the boxes to enhance my summer experience!
Tick-Talk Tuesday is a special time when I respond to readers’ letters and comments about clock issues, challenges, and recommendations for specific clocks. When the comments and questions are especially complex, I consult with fellow clock enthusiasts within my circle to ensure I offer the most precise and helpful answers possible.
LS writes:
I ran across your web page searching for a particular clock and I’m hoping you might have the connections of which I don’t… in order to help me locate one.
The clock I’m looking to replace a clock that belonged to my parents and was stolen along with a lot of other treasures. It’s an Ansonia “Reminiscence” Model #647. Heavy solid oak, beveled glass with Westminster chimes/key.
If you happen to have one in a private collection you’d be willing to part with, OR if you have any clue where I might be able to locate one… I’d be forever grateful for your assistance.
Thank you so much, and with warmest regards.
My response:
Thank you for your email LS. Would you happen to have a photo of the clock? What style of clock are you referring to, shelf, wall, mantel, or tall case?
LS write back: This was a wall clock, which I amazingly… still have all of the original paperwork on, that came with the clock when my moms mother, my grandmother, bought it for them back in 1989. (four pictures enclosed). The clock catalog I have displays 26 of their clocks produced from 1986-1989. I also included a neat little story that came with the packet, and some directions my mother transcribed, which were undoubtedly given by my father. This clock HAD to be taken care of just right; as nothing else would ever, EVER do! Just shows how attached they were to this clock.
Ansonia clock not made in the USA
My father was stationed at Hickam Field when the attack on Pearl Harbour happened. He was an instrument shop manager in the United States Air Corps. He also spent a good portion of his life in clock and watch repair, including working for a couple of local shops in the St Louis metro area after the war, and discharge. Until the day he died he still had many of the original springs, gears, tools, oil, eye magnifier pieces, etc… stored lovingly in a very nice, old humidor box that he custom built four removable shelves for… so as you can likely assume… this clock, was his “baby.” (I still have that humidor box and several of the pieces from it). I am just heartsick that it was stolen, and when my mother was still alive (she passed in 2012, and dad in 1997), if I didn’t know any better… I might assume that this could’ve been part of what led to her ultimate demise. Truly, it hit extremely hard! Especially since her mother was also gone by that time.
I appreciate any help you can offer in trying to find a replacement for myself and MY family today. It would mean the world to me if I could happen across one. Even though not the original, don’t we all just need a little bit of comfort in our world today, and the warm memories that can sometimes be solely responsible for bringing that comfort? I certainly have all of the care instructions at my disposal! 😉
I’ve about exhausted all avenues in my search for this elusive clock, and unfortunately… Ansonia closed up shop in 2006; ironically, the same year my parent’s clock was taken.
My reply:
Hi, and thanks for the additional information.
Ansonia was a well-known maker of American clocks. The original company, which operated in Connecticut and New York ended operations in 1929.
The trademark was then sold off, more than once, I believe. In 1969 the Nofziger family of Lynnwood, Washington, re-registered the Ansonia trademark and issued clocks with the Ansonia name.
When the Ansonia Clock Co. was “making” clocks in Washington the company was a mere shadow of its former glory.
I say “making” because the company was likely assembling clocks sourced from West Germany with cases also sourced abroad. So, they were either importing the clocks fully assembled or in pieces to be assembled. Since they owned the Ansonia trademark, they simply added it to the dial face. So, not a made-in-America clock.
However, you probably know all this. It is the sentimental value that is most important, and finding the same clock or one similar is your present quest.
While I come across many Ansonia clocks, I have never come across one from the re-registered company. A search of eBay will bring up dozens of New York-made clocks but few if any of ones similar to yours. You will just have to keep looking. However, if one comes up I will certainly let you know.
While many might not initially favour the idea of having a ticking mechanical clock in their bedrooms, its presence can actually offer significant benefits. Let me elaborate on why. Before I go further let me say I understand that some individuals may find the ticking sound disruptive to their sleep.
The therapeutic value of having a ticking sound in the bedroom to aid with sleep can vary from person to person. Some individuals find rhythmic sounds like ticking soothing and conducive to relaxation, helping them fall asleep faster. However, others may find it distracting or even irritating, disrupting their sleep. Overall, it largely depends on personal preference and individual sensitivity to sounds during sleep. Nevertheless, for some individuals, opting to tune into off-station frequencies or running a fan for background noise is their preferred method, whereas our method of choice is the mechanical clock.
Banjo clock hung in the bedroom
In my opinion, having a ticking mechanical clock in a bedroom can be advantageous. Although I have zero evidence to back my claim, it seems beneficial to introduce a rhythmic sound into a room to enhance sleep.
A number of years ago we found a Sessions Lexington banjo clock in an antique store in one of the New England states(USA). Before you conjure images of an expensive banjo clock crafted in Boston or elsewhere, let me clarify that this clock is likely one of the cheapest banjo clocks ever produced. It was made in the late 1920s, and many were sold to those who could not afford the more desirable weight-driven banjo clock, like the one in the next photo.
Sawin banjo clock Ca. 1830
The Lexington may not even keep accurate time, but it excels in its primary function: providing background noise.
The modest Lexington banjo clock CA. 1927
If you are accustomed to American clocks you will note that they are loud tickers unlike finely crafted French and German clocks that are almost silent in operation. The loud ticking however is an advantage. The loud rhythmic ticking sound acts as white noise, helping some people fall asleep faster and masking other background noises.
A mass produced time-only Sessions movement(top plate removed)
The Lexington is a time-only spring-driven clock that runs about 100 or so beats per minute. Although it may beat too fast for some, we’ve grown accustomed to it. In my belief, a slower beat is preferable, with 80 beats per minute being an acceptable compromise.
For those accustomed to it, the ticking becomes a comforting part of their bedtime routine. Using a mechanical clock reduces reliance on digital devices, potentially improving sleep quality by reducing screen time. When it comes to digital devices, it’s best to avoid bringing a cell phone into your bedroom. Learn to disconnect from the digital world. The digital world couldn’t care less about your need to get a good night’s sleep. If you need an alarm, consider investing in a high-quality radio alarm clock instead.
Sangean table radiowith alarm function
And lastly, the classic design of mechanical clocks adds aesthetic appeal to the bedroom, and their reliability ensures consistent timekeeping, even during power outages or when batteries die.
Eight years ago I came across an intriguing find not far from where I reside—an antique Ansonia octagonal short drop, commonly referred to as a schoolhouse clock. While I estimate its manufacturing date to be around the turn of the 20th century, pinpointing the exact year eluded me.
Ansonia Schoolhouse Clock
The movement bears the stamped number “12,” which could denote the year “1912” or possibly the month of a particular year. Additionally, the letters “TT” are inscribed on the movement. 1912 would sound just about right.
Although not my only Ansonia clock I encounter the Ansonia name less frequently compared to other American clock manufacturers.
Ansonia Clock Co., Made in the U.S.A.
To retreive the clock, my wife and I travelled to the small town of Berwick, nestled in the Annapolis Valley region of Nova Scotia. Berwick is best known as the centre of the province’s apple industry. We set out for a day trip eager to soak in the local scenery and make various stops at roadside stands/gardens along the way, fully aware that the clock we were about to acquire would come with no surprises. Well, it was not perfect!
The gentleman from whom I purchased the clock shared that it had been in his family for over 50 years, yet he had never seen it run. He parted with it during the estate liquidation process following his mother’s passing, as it held sentimental value for her but evidently not for him.
The number 12 and TT stamped on the movement
It originated from a schoolhouse in Ontario, Canada, although the specific location eluded the seller. Despite minor issues, such as paint applied around the minute/hour pipe to conceal stains from years of handling, the softwood case remains in very good condition.
However, it was missing a bushing for the hour hand, an easy fix. Remarkably, I discovered remnants of rotted elastic banding on the pendulum rod just below the suspension spring, though its purpose remains a mystery to me.
Nevertheless, following several adjustments, including bending the crutch to ensure proper alignment, the clock functioned but a servicing was necessary. I found the need for 3 new bushings in the spring-driven time-only movement. While the wear wasn’t severe, it warranted attention. A new hour and minute hand, sourced from a supplier completed the servicing.
The most worn bushing hole, highlighted to illustrate the wear
The Ansonia Clock Company’s storied history adds an intriguing layer to this find. Unfortunately, the company, formed in 1851, had a long history of supplying clocks to the masses but its demise prior to the 1929 stock market crash serves as a poignant reminder of shifting economic tides.
The clock is now gone but to a good home. Approximately three years ago, when my daughter was setting up an office in her new home, she expressed interest in acquiring the clock, which she considered the perfect decoration for her new workspace. “Certainly,” I replied, and now it proudly occupies a prominent spot in her office.
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