Hugh Gordon, clock-maker worked in Aberdeen, Scotland from 1748-90. He had previously worked in Edinburgh and London. Although a very proficient maker little of his work seems to have survived.
Hugh Gordon tall-case clock
This is a friend’s clock and I was asked to research it. Unfortunately, I have discovered very little so far.
Hugh Gordon tall-case clock
This time and strike clock is an excellent example of Scottish style and was likely made between 1760 to 1770 judging by the design of the spandrels.
Hugh Gordon face, hands and spandrelsHugh Gordon pagoda hood and face
It features a second hand just below the 12 o’clock position and a single date aperture just beneath the hour pipe. It is a nicely proportioned clock with a tall centre throat and pagoda-styled top bonnet; the centre engraving is a typical feature of the Scottish clocks of the latter part of the 18th century as is the box calendar opening (date aperture), side glass on either side of the hood and doped canvas top cover. These clocks are not overly tall at about 7′.
It is missing three finials; one on top and on the left and right front corners. The mounting holes were evidently covered up by a later canvas re-application. The chapter ring and dial centre would have been silvered at one time and rubbed clean by over-polishing through the years. The hour hand looks correct but the original minute hand would have had a serpentine design in keeping with the hour hand.
Hugh Gordon face and hands
This clock has been in my friend’s family since 1850 having been brought over by ship when his ancestors immigrated to Canada. It has survived quite well and it has been well taken care of.
It is not in running order. I suggested that my friend seek a clock repair person (horologist) who is knowledgeable in the repair of antique tall-case clocks particularly with clocks of this era as special care and attention is required if parts need to be rebuilt/repaired to remain consistent with the period.
Researching clocks at the Canadian Clock Museum in Deep River, Ontario, Canada.
Taking a little time off seems like an amusing title for a clock blog. It just struck me (there I go again).
In the next few weeks you will see fewer posts as I am spending some quality time with friends and family at our summer get-away in central Canada. While in that area I intend to make my third visit to the Canadian Clock Museum in Deep River, Ontario. It is always exciting to see the newly added pieces to the museum collection and to chat with it’s knowledgeable curator.
Regular readers have no doubt observed that my usual practice in the past year is to post at least one article per week in an effort to keep readers interested and of course help me, the writer, offer the kind of content that appeals to a broad spectrum of clock enthusiasts. I typically profile my own clock collection and the trials and tribulations of maintaining and repairing my clocks plus some articles of interest based on observations in my travels and general interest clock subjects as I navigate through the fascinating world of horology.
From time to time (pun unintended) you will also find special interest articles that I write to give a broader perspective of the world of horology and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy the research side of the equation. Even though I will be away I will try to maintain a presence on my blog by posting every two weeks or so which means you can still come back regularly. I also invite you to browse through my archive, there’s bound to something that will interest you if you are clock lover like myself.
In the weeks to come I am planning articles on Bracket clocks, how to oil and maintain your clock between servicings, a historical piece on a most interesting 17th century French cabinet maker and his contribution to horology and thoughts on the pros and cons of converting a clock from a mechanical movement to quartz.
Converted from a mechanical clock
If you have a comment on any of my posts please feel free to leave one though it may take some additional time for me to respond, so, a little patience would be appreciated.
In September I will resume my weekly posting schedule. As they say in the show business world – stay tuned!
I do not mean marriage in the traditional sense. In the clock world a marriage is defined as a bringing together of parts to make a complete functioning clock. Among clock circles it is generally accepted that if a clock has significant parts from another source, such as a movement, pendulum, weights, put into a different though correct case it is considered a marriage.
Gustav Becker 2-weight regulator
If it has a large number of parts from a variety of sources, even parts not original to the period or correct to the clock it might be considered something else. See my previous post for a discussion on Frankenclocks.
I am in a bit of a quandary.
I have written a number of blog posts concerning a Gustav Becker two-weight regulator clock that I bought in February. I am fascinated by what I have learned about this clock but the journey has been both enlightening and frustrating as I attempt to get it to run reliably.
I purchased it as a project clock and knew that I would have to source parts that were missing from the movement which the seller disclosed at the time of sale. I decided to buy another GB movement. About a month after I bought the clock my search on EBay bore fruit. The movement I found (from Poland!) was a Braunau movement which is the same factory but newer by 16 years (1902 versus 1918). It was an excellent fit for my clock project since up to 90% of the parts are interchangeable and the price was very reasonable.
Clock face with replacement VR hands
My intent was to part out the 1918 movement to supply the 1902 movement with the parts I needed such as two springs, a snail / star wheel, hammer assembly and gathering pallet. While I took what I could from the 1918 movement to get the original movement running I had mixed success. It ran well for a while and then it would stop and lock up for no apparent reason. It stopped several times. Each time I took it apart, inspected the parts I thought might be problematic but found nothing amiss. After I dis-assembled, cleaned and oiled the movement each time I had it out, I returned the movement to it’s case and the clock would run for a while, a couple of weeks, a couple of days, hours perhaps before it would just stop abruptly. I am sure that if I investigated further I would find a slightly bent pivot, worn pinion or problematic gear tooth somewhere. Now for plan B.
Weights for Regulator clock
I thought, well I do have the 1918 movement, why not switch them and see what happens. I returned all the parts such as star wheel / snail, springs, hammer assembly etc. from the 1902 movement to the 1918 movement and hoped that the 1918 movement once installed in the case would run and run well. I was initially concerned that the newer movement, a P27 requiring what I thought was a longer pendulum would not fit the case case but it seems to be sized perfectly. It is a mystery to me how pendulums are measured. The movement has now been in the case for the last fourteen days and it is not only running well but keeping excellent time.
The question remains, should I leave the 1918 movement in the case since it is now running well? Although it is the “correct” movement though not the original one, could the clock now be considered a “marriage”? The answer is, yes!
If I were to sell the clock I would disclose that the movement is not original to the case which would certainly affect its overall value. I could make the deal more attractive by providing the original movement as part of the sale considering that it is repairable, if I sold it! These situations occur quite often in the world of EBay et al when the clock seller chooses not to give too much detail in their description of the item when they know some parts are not original. Furthermore, from a buyers perspective there is no guarantee that the clock they are looking at is 100% original.
Gustav Becker clock occupying a prominent location in the living room
This is my first marriage. Would I do it again? If faced with similar circumstances in the future I would probably do the same thing but it has also taught me to be cautious with any potential clock purchase by asking key questions prior to any decision.
Of course this clock is not for sale. I think the clock looks outstanding on my living room wall.
Let me know if you have you performed any marriages or if you think it is an ethical practice?
What is a shelf clock? If you have a number of clocks as I do it can be quite confusing to describe each specific type to the average person but it is really quite simple. Let me explain how you can identify the clock you might be looking at. The term shelf clock is a broad category but I believe it can be classified in the following ways.
Some 180 years ago the first shelf clocks were OG (Ogee) clocks. These were the first mass-produced American clocks, were inexpensive, and were made up to about the late 1870s. They represented the early years of American clock-making and the transition from more expensively produced wood movements to cheaper brass movement clocks. OG clocks are so named because of the double-curved molding on the front of the clock. The curved molding was designed to hide the weights. Many of these clocks were weight driven with 30-hour or 8-day movements and had mirrored or painted tablets. OG clocks were usually 25 inches in height and 15 inches wide and had hardwood veneers covering a softwood frame. They were surprisingly accurate and reliable.
Spring-driven and weight driven 30 hour OG (Ogee) clocks, made by the Canada Clock Company, circa 1872-76 (Canadian Clock Museum)
Later, more stylish clocks could be found. These are called Column clocks because they would either have a half-column or full column on the left and right or even stacked half or full columns such as the one pictured below. Moldings on the top and bottom would be brought together by columns on each side of the clock with mirrored or painted tablets. Column clocks were almost exclusively weight driven with 30-hour or 8-day movements.
Stacked Column clock, circa 1870 (Canadian Clock Museum)
At around 1840 Steeple clocks were introduced. They had a peaked centre section bordered by columns topped with finials and a peaked sash with a decorated (often hand-painted) lower tablet. They were spring driven with 8-day movements. Steeple clocks are very distinctive, stood about 15 inches high with veneered hardwood over softwood, often with reverse-painted scenes and are made by a number of well-known companies.
Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf “fan top” Kitchen clock, circa 1905
Kitchen clocks (Gingerbread) were simple or ornate with carved or steam-pressed patterns made by quick-saws and heavy steel presses, stood 22-24 inches in height and about 15 inches wide, and had a decorated sash which could be a very simple design as you see here or a much fancier reverse-painted glass scene. These inexpensive, visually pleasing timepieces sat in the kitchens of lower and middle-class homes and were produced by the thousands. They were so named because of their likeness to the design of gingerbread houses at the time (early 1900s). They are usually made of oak, walnut or even walnut trimmings on oak with a metal clock face and many had a simple alarm mechanism. The Gingerbread clock you see here is the Maple Leaf “fan top” by Arthur Pequegnat. The Maple Leaf came in 4 unique styles all characterized by the maple leaf decal on the glass door.
Some kitchen clocks had beautifully carved features and figurines such as this stunning clock made by the Hamilton Clock Company (Canada), though a clock such as this might be found elsewhere in the home and considered a parlor clock.
City of Hamilton, made by the Hamilton Clock Company, circa 1880 (Canadian Clock Museum)
When spring-driven clocks were introduced the Parlor clocks like this Hamilton Clock Company model became popular. They tended to be narrower than column clocks because they had spring-driven movements. These clocks mirrored the furniture styles of the time. This one reflected the Victorian era with its bold figurines, carved finials, elaborate patterns etched into its wooden frame, and the hand-painted floral design of the sash.
Seth Thomas round top cottage clock, circa 1930
Cottage clocks are less than 15 inches high and typically 8 inches wide are small, simple in design, and take up very little space. Many have basic alarm mechanisms but have one feature that distinguishes them from other pendulum clocks. They have a clip or a clasp that secures the pendulum rod for travel. The “round top” you see here was sold by Henry Birks and Sons an upscale Canadian jeweler. Others had “beehive” tops, flat tops, or octagon tops.
Pendulum rod clip for Seth Thomas round top
Smaller clocks are often referred to as desk clocks. They are usually mainspring driven with a flat dial. This Kundo 400-day anniversary German clock is an example of a desk clock but it might also be described more specifically as a torsion clock. This one stands less than ten inches tall and has a glass dome, a weighted wheel with 4 balls suspended by a ribbon called a torsion spring, and an exposed movement. It was typically given as a wedding gift.
Kundo 400 day anniversary clock, circa 1970
Finally, the mantel clock.
Mantel clocks can be ornate, larger, and the centerpiece in a room. This particular clock, a Mauthe pendulum mantel clock offers a precision-built sophisticated German Westminster chime movement in a relatively non-descript but attractive and well-built cabinet that is simple yet elegant.
Mauthe time. strike and chime, circa 1970
ASIDE: Is it mantel or mantle? I have always considered a mantle as something you wear, a garment or a part of the earth’s crust. A mantel on the other hand is a shelf above, say, a fireplace. I see this word interchanged so often when clocks are advertised or described that either word is universally accepted. I prefer the word “mantel”.
Ingraham Huron shelf clock, circa 1878
Mantel clocks were inexpensive to make, occupied very little space, and were part decoration and part practical timepieces. Mantel clocks were made with brass, wood, porcelain, slate, Bakelite, and metal though for the most part they were designed to be lightweight (slate clocks and cast iron clocks would be the exception), simple in basic design, and very practical. Mantel clocks have lasted so long, over two centuries, because they are dependable, versatile, and work so well in many domestic situations.
The categories of shelf clocks also include carriage clocks and lantern clocks. One of the first clocks whose movement and external structure was made predominantly from brass instead of iron or wood was the lantern clock. Although the shape of the clock looks somewhat like a lantern, the derivation of the name probably stems from the French word “laiton”, meaning brass. The earliest lantern clocks had striking mechanisms; later in the 17th-century alarms were sometimes added. Some lantern clocks had pendulums and could be hung on the wall.
Carriage clocks were spring-driven clocks developed in 19th century France and are made of plain or gilt brass. They are often no more than 8 inches tall, designed to be portable, and are characterized by a rectangular shape, glass or porcelain panels, and a carrying handle on the top. If you have a Breguet carriage clock as part of your collection you are very lucky indeed!
This is by no means an exhaustive description of the types of shelf clocks. There are others such as swinging clocks, tambour clocks, pillar and scroll, and so on. Whether you are shopping for a clock as a gift or adding one to your collection or even describing what you have seen to a friend, it is important to understand the distinctions between one type and another.
Anyone who collects clocks knows that Waterbury clocks have had a long and illustrious history but did you know that the modern day Timex watch can trace it’s roots all the way back to the Waterbury Clock Company?
Let’s start with my Ingersoll-Waterbury time and strike mantel clock that I picked up late last year (2015) and following which we will explore this most interesting company.
Ingersoll-Waterbury mantel clock
This mantel clock was sold to retail outlets by the G.R. L’Èsperance Company of Montreal, Canada who advertised themselves as the sole distributor. “Made in Canada” it says on the case but as is typical of clocks sold in Canada before and during the Second World War the movements were made in the USA, assembled and shipped to Canada to be installed in cases that were sold in many stores across the country. Other clock companies such as Seth Thomas established a similar practice. Aside from the very rare Martin Cheney clocks made in Montreal in the mid 18th century, the only clock company that made their own movements and built their own cases was the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company based in Kitchener, Ontario in the early 1900s to 1941.
This Ingersoll-Waterbury mantel clock was made in 1943 and likely very popular at the time.
Clock face showing somewhat flimsy hands
It has a conventional pendulum adjusted by a small arbor under the “12” and the company logo “W” in raised relief on the bob. It has a common recoil escapement. The clock face is paper with the inscription “Waterbury” on top of the “6” and”Made in Canada” below it.
Label showing instructions for operating the clock
The label is a generic one found on a wide variety of clocks to save printing costs. The swinging front panel door is unique to this clock and there is a small catch underneath the right hand side to secure it.
The hands may look very ornate but they are in fact quite cheap looking. A quick search on the net reveals that are, in fact, original. The inexpensively made hands and paper face are not unexpected for a mass produced clock.
Time and strike movement
The veneers on either side of the back panel were split open when I first received the clock but clamping and carpenter`s glue tightened things up. It is very common for clocks of this vintage to have chipped or missing pieces of veneer which unfortunately reflects their cheap construction. However, this clock presents well and is free of serious flaws on the case itself.
Swinging front panel door
The Waterbury name has been around since 1857. From my research I found that in 1922, the Waterbury Clock Company purchased the Ingersoll operation whose business had begun to decline after 1910 and had gone bankrupt two years previously due to poor management. Waterbury’s operation was particularly hard hit by the Great Depression of the 1930s. Clocks were considered luxury items and many could ill afford a timepiece for the home.
By 1932, their huge factory complex was almost idle when demand was so low. The company avoided bankruptcy and the firm was reorganized as the Ingersoll-Waterbury Company with investors raising half a million dollars in new capital. During this period (1933) the popular “Mickey Mouse” character watch was made and electric clocks were added to the line which revived the company. The Mickey Mouse watch was known as the “mouse that saved the day”. Draw any conclusion you wish.
After the USA entered World War II, the Ingersoll-Waterbury Company switched almost entirely to manufacturing war products though a small number of clocks were still produced. However, in 1942, the company was purchased by a group of Norwegian investors and a new factory was built at Middlebury, CT. Two years later, in 1944, the firm changed its name and became known as the United States Time Corporation. They introduced the widely popular “Timex” watch a year later. In November, 1969, U.S. Time was succeeded by Timex Corporation (now Timex Group), whose corporate headquarters are located in Middlebury, CT. to this day. The Timex museum, located in Waterbury, Connecticut, USA, is said to be “both the birthplace of Timex, and of modern timekeeping”.
So there you have it. My clock and Mickey Mouse are indeed related!
My most recent acquisition (April 2016) is an Ingraham Huron shelf clock. The Huron is one of the less commonly found Ingraham models, having been manufactured briefly between 1878-80.
The clock you see here is Rosewood Veneer “Huron” Shelf Clock, by E. Ingraham & Co., Bristol, Connecticut. It has paper on a zinc dial with a round glazed door and lower glass access panel. The maker’s label is inside the backboard. It is a brass eight-day spring-powered movement, with a height of just under 41 centimeters.
The case is in very good condition. The veneers are in excellent shape (no splitting or cracking), the clock face has a build-up of grime which I may leave as is, the base corner pieces have a little wear but the 2 door catches are sound, the glass is perfect, the door hinges are in very good condition and the doors, top and bottom, still fit with precision. The pendulum retains it’s original lacquer and presents well. I have not looked at the movement yet but a little push of the pendulum tells me that something is amiss. Could simply be wound down springs or something more involved. I will leave as is until I have the time to look at it further this coming week and I will post my findings later.
I asked the seller who is about 70 years old, “what do you know about this clock?”. He extended his hand palm down out to about a meter from the floor and said, “I was this tall when I can first remember it in my grandmother’s home”. There is a penciled marking just inside the case indicating that it had been serviced by a person by the name of Hebb in 1944. The seller recalls a Hebb family who at one time lived in the Bridgewater area of Nova Scotia near where I purchased the clock.
Base of the Huron
The company had a long and renowned history. Elias Ingraham was the founder of this 19th-century Connecticut company that bore his name.
Ingraham won 17 patents between 1853 and 1873, all protecting the unique design of his clocks, most of which were made to hang flat on a wall or sit on a shelf. Ingraham was able to devote his attention to the physical look of his clocks because the technology inside them was rapidly becoming commonplace. By the middle of the 19th century, spring-driven clockworks were replacing weight-based ones, which allowed clocks to be smaller and lighter. These innovations permitted Ingraham to focus on the look of his clocks in order to differentiate himself from his competitors.
Dial door clasp
And that is precisely what he did. In 1844, he and his brother Andrew joined with Elisha Curtis Brewster to form the Brewster & Ingrahams (plural) company. The firm would become E. and A. Ingrahams Company in 1852, Elias Ingraham and Company in 1857, E. Ingraham & Company in 1861, The E. Ingraham & Company in 1881, and The E. Ingraham Company in 1885. These subtle name changes might seem overly petty, but they provide the modern collector of antique Ingraham clocks with a accurate way to date clock styles that were produced during a span of years.
Ingraham shelf clocks ranged from painted timepieces richly decorated with mother-of-pearl to round Venetian and Grecian styles clad in rosewood veneer and adorned with gilt columns. Versions of these shelf clocks were also created for walls—the Ionic style was so popular that Ingraham made it from 1862 until 1924.
Clock face showing what I believe are original hands
Side of clock showing striking veneer
In 1885, Elias’s son Edward took over the company and continued its innovation in clock case design. Double-dial wall and shelf clocks produced during this period told the time of day, the day of the week, and the month. As the 19th century wore on, Ingraham made mantel clocks with Chinese motifs and carved dragon’s feet, as well as a number of patriotic clocks depicting American war heroes.
winding key looks home-made
The Ingraham Clock Company continued to produce clocks through the 1920s continuing with the tradition of unique clock cases with Oriental designs and patriotic themes. Throughout the war years the company diversified into pocket watches and wrist watches. During the post war period the Ingraham company continued to produce wall clocks, mantel clocks and wrist watches but by 1967 the company was acquired by McGraw-Edison who converted production into making more profitable fuses spelling the end of formal clock production and the end of the Ingraham tradition of producing uniquely designed clocks for the masses.
Much of the information for this post came from this site.
A few changes have taken place since I last posted but the clock is still not 100% correct.
Some changes to note. The bottom right finial was repaired.
Broken finial tip
To the casual observer it looks impressive but a keen eye would reveal the repair. The middle finial is not attached as yet as there are still some minor cosmetic details that need to be addressed before I attach it to the base.
This past week I had contacted a local glass repair shop to make and install new 3 mm glass. Thicker than I thought but true to the original that is, if the glass that was broken was truly original. I say this because the glass shop noted that the previous glass was installed using finishing nails the shape, style and size of which would not have been available at the time (1902). So, putting new glass into the clock may not change the value since the glass that was broken during shipment was likely not original.
The movement was given a thorough cleaning and oiling including a nice polish to the plates. As all the striking levers are on the front plate they were very simple to re-attach. Re-assembly of the gears is quite easy compared to North American clocks I have worked on. No fiddling with levers and helper wires between the plates. Overall, the parts are of a very high quality as one would expect from the maker, Gustav Becker. There was no evidence of worn bushings or any other troubling areas and I did not see any other work required for this movement other than the obvious missing parts. Ultrasonic cleaning, pegging and polishing the pivots and cleaning the plates was all that was required. All parts are back in the clock save the star wheel lever and the hammer assembly which I do not have.
The top plate, polished and presentable
Gustav Becker movement
The above image is pulled from an online source. My apologies to the author of the photo. This GB Braunau movement shows the star wheel / snail gear which I am missing on my movement.
Replacement star wheel top
Repalcment star wheel bottom
The movement below shows mine without the star wheel (bottom centre), and that is how I received it. I later received a “replacement” star wheel from the seller but unfortunately is does not fit. It might be from a later Braunau movement or a Silesia one, I am not sure. I am not going to force it, it really does not fit. The Braunau movement that I ordered online has not arrived as of this date but my hope is that I can interchange the parts that I am missing. We will see.
Braunau movement form GB clock
There are several other issues with this movement. As mentioned, there is no rod and hammer which is an obvious problem because without it the clock will not strike. It is my hope that the replacement movement will have one that I can adapt to my clock.
Gather pallet
The next issue is the pin on the gathering pallet. The gathering pallet rotates to advance the strike rack. Despite straightening the pin on the pallet it still does not want to engage. My thinking is that the pin is either too short for whatever reason or that a piece of it likely snapped off at some point in the clock’s life. Again, I might be able to take a good one off of the replacement movement.
I also received a replacement dial bezel in the mail which is a definite improvement over the one that was dented in shipment. You can see the damage on the original bezel below.
damaged bezel
Lastly, I have ordered 0.80 mm brass cable to replace the cat gut and a number 1 regulator crank which also did not come with the clock.
At this moment the time gears are working fine, the clock is ticking away and it actually tells the time.
All in all it has been an interesting project so far and some very good learning on my part.
A diminutive size, this clock was made around 1930 just a couple of years before the Waterbury Clock Company was placed in receivership. It is a solid oak case measuring 19 inches long by 12 inches wide, with a paper dial marked Waterbury, a black and gold pendulum aperture, and 8-day time-only movement. The bottom of the dial says, ” Made in the USA by Waterbury Clock Company”, Connecticut.
While the clock is a strong runner there are obvious issues concerning the paper dial and the lack of a brass bezel. The dial plate does not have to be changed out but the clock is in need of a brass bezel, hinge and convex glass. Although the style might be slightly different on a replacement bezel, it is clearly required to complete the look. I have decided to retain the paper dial as an exact replacement is impossible or so I have found so far in my research. Half of the paper dial has become unglued from the dial pan. Two-sided tape in three locations was the fix. I may touch up the numbers 7, 8, and 9. We`ll see.
Pendulum bob
The Waterbury Clock Company was incorporated in the city of Waterbury, Connecticut, on March 5, 1857. Up until the Great Depression Waterbury had been quite prosperous. But like so many companies, most of the profits lined the pockets of its Directors instead of being reinvested in new equipment and updated facilities thus hastening its rapid decline. In 1932 the company was bought and re-organized under the name Ingersoll-Waterbury.and in later years the company morphed into the Timex Corporation. If you peruse the Timex site today you will see a line of Timex watches called the Waterbury collection. Timex is certainly acknowledging a link to its past.
Instructions for the clock
The instructions came with the clock and I smiled when I read them. “The long hand is the minute hand and the short hand is the hour hand”.
A inexpensive acquisition and only a few dollars to add glass and a bezel to complete the clock.
As you know from reading my last post concerning this fine timepiece I am appealing to anyone who knows anything about these particular clocks to assist me in finding a critical part for the strike side. The part is called the “star wheel / snail”. Without it the strike side will not function. The time side will happily run without it.
The photo that follows is a movement with the star wheel intact (my apologies, it is a grab from EBay). Look closely towards the bottom just off centre you will see a wheel shaped like a star with a snail type assembly on top, hence the name. That is the one I am missing. Why it was taken off my clock movement is a mystery to me but it is what it is. A couple of guesses; someone did not want the clock to strike for whatever reason or two, it was a donor clock for another.
If you look closely in the next photo towards the bottom centre it shows my clock without the star wheel. Both of these are Braunau movements.
Showing the star wheel and snail which are one piece
My clock showing missing star wheel and snail
Gustav Becker clocks of that era were essentially made in two factories, the Frieberg Works and the later Braunau Works. My clock is from the Braunau factory. The star wheel must be from a Braunau clock as the design of that wheel was slightly different than ones from Silesia clocks.
If you know of a source or you happen to have one lying around (LOL) please email me.
Oh, and one more thing. If you happen to know the size suspension spring I need that would be great. I am missing that too.
Pendulum rod near suspension spring mount. The strike rod is just to the left
There is no prize for assisting me but if you do I will give you digital hug!
This is a Gustav Becker 2 weight “Vienna Regulator” made at the Braunau factory in 1902. The serial number is a confirmed match for the numbered series built during that period. The clock was made in the Gustav Becker Braunau works in Bohemia (now Broumov, Czech Repulic), in mid-1902. The Braunau operation started up in February 1888 and would have been producing clocks up until 1925. Bohemia is a province in the Habsburg Austrian Empire hence the reference to clocks during that period referred to as Vienna Regulator style. The definition of a Vienna Regulator is a debatable point and I will leave that up to the reader to decide.
Some notable features are the inverted keyhole movement mount, rod gong and a wood pendulum rod with brass covered zinc. There are intricately carved trim pieces, certainly a common feature of the craftsmanship found in higher end clocks of that period. The clock is 51 inches tall and is a commanding presence on any wall and certainly a great addition to our living room.
What is missing in the photo are the two weights which at this point are not attached; the condition of the cables are suspect. Replacement cables are on the list. There is also a small part of the right bottom finial which has to be reattached (glued).
The bottom middle finial is also not attached. The bottom middle finial is in the freezer right now because I noticed that it was the only part of the clock with woodworm holes. I inspected the finial carefully, banged it on white paper and not a bit of dust or dead insects. This is a good sign and one indication that the worms and their larvae have been long gone but as an extra precaution a few days in the freezer won’t hurt and once it gets to -30C here in Nova Scotia a little time outside won’t do any harm either. I am not at the point where I will introduce it to chemicals as my best guess is that the problem insects have simply left their mark and have since departed. There is no indication of any worm holes on the clock itself which leads me to believe that the bottom middle finial may not be original. Chemical eradication appears to be the only course of action it seems as freezing does nothing.
some pieces had to be reattached
At the moment this clock is not working. The clock needs a very good cleaning and possible bushing work. I have not opened it up yet to investigate further but my first inspection of the moment is that it has not seen maintenance in some time. This will be one of my first steps.
This is a good project and from time to time I will detail my progress on this fine European clock.
I acquired this beautiful Mauthe Horse Crown Vienna style wall clock in the fall. I inspected it carefully enough before the purchase but it was not until I got it home that I discovered a finial or perhaps a trim piece missing from the base area on the bottom.
Missing trim or finial
Once hung the clock did not look as balanced as it should. It did not look quite right and there was clear evidence of a piece missing when I inspected the bottom more closely.
I went to the usual clock parts sites to look for a finial or piece that would best fit the design of this turn of the century wall clock. There were a number of choices but I decided to get the base piece finial you see here. It is flat on one side and comes without a peg. It complements the style of the clock without making it look awkward and I think I struck the right balance. It may not be exactly like the original but it looks good enough to fool the casual observer or even an expert.
The trim piece came unfinished. I determined that the clock had an original walnut finish so proceeded to apply enough coats of stain on the trim piece to match the rest of the clock.
Here is the result.
Trim piece added to base of clock
Here is a shot of the clock from a couple of meters away. You can see that it is more “balanced” than before. it might even be period-correct judging from what I have seen on other Vienna style clocks.
A small detail makes a difference
From Perrin Canada
This cost me $6.70 for the trim piece / finial I purchased from Perrin Canada, $4.99 for the dark walnut stain and $.79 for a length of 5/16 dowel. This small detail makes a huge difference.
It is time to buy the tools I need for clock repair. I already have a number of basic tools to get me started; pliers, letdown chucks, screwdrivers, etc.
However, my first significant tool is an Ollie Baker Mainspring Winder which arrived from the USA today. It is pictured below. The Ollie Baker comes with an assortment of collars for every size of mainspring.
Olie Baker spring winder
The spring winder will enable me to inspect, clean, and re-install barreled or open springs on all the clocks I will be servicing. My first impression is that it is a robust and well-machined tool that will give years of service. Indeed, one of the most important tools for clock repair enthusiasts is the spring-winder.
I also ordered bushing kit #5488 from Perrinstoday which will enable me to have the bushings I need in order to use the Bergeon Bushing Machinethat I will purchase later on this year.
The Bergeon Bushing tool is “Swiss made” and exudes quality. In every clock, due to considerable wear, the plates have to be bushed from time to time. This tool allows the bushing of plates of various sizes. The kit includes driving punches, centering bit, stakes, and reamers. I can bush by hand which some folks do by using appropriate reamers and files but I know that a bushing machine is a must-have. The first photo shows a clock movement that I had professionally bushed. It required 5 bushings in all in addition to cleaning and oiling and it runs very well.
With these tools, I can progress more seriously into this most interesting hobby.
December 18th marks the day that my Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf fan-top is off to repair.
Sadly this is a repair that I cannot perform myself at this stage of my learning. The problem is essentially a clutch plate off the centre arbor that is not engaging the gear for the strike side. The result is that the hour and minute hand do not move at all thus the centre arbor is quite loose. In the meantime I might as well have some bushing work and a thorough cleaning done.
Typically gingerbread clocks go for almost nothing on the for-sale sites. The fact that this is a Pequegnat means something special however and in my view it is worth preserving for years to come.
Here is the problem area.
Clutch cup is loose
Although it is difficult to visualize from this photo, the cup clutch plate is very loose and needs to be reattached to allow a firm connection to the gear beneath. As such I am prepared to put a little money into this clock and keep it in my collection.
Another wall clock has joined my collection, so let’s take a closer look at what I’ve acquired and whether it was worth the price I paid.
Time and strike movement, 116 BPM
The clock was advertised locally in the Truro, Nova Scotia area. The seller knew little about it beyond its provenance, but what he did share was an interesting, albeit brief, story.
In the early 1980s, his wife brought the clock over from Holland, where it had been in her family for several generations. Sadly, his wife passed away three years ago. Had she been alive, I’m sure I would have learned much more about the clock’s history. The seller was understandably hesitant to part with it, as it served as a happy reminder of his past life. However, he was entering a new phase of his life with a new partner, which meant letting go of furniture and other possessions. Like him, I also view life as a series of phases. The clock was priced at $100, firm and non-negotiable.
This two-train (time and strike) spring-wound clock could be described as being in the style of a Vienna Regulator. As expected, the movement is quite dirty—a common issue for clocks like this that have often never been serviced. However, there are signs that adjustments were made at some point, evidenced by marks on several screws in the movement.
The clock is largely intact, except for a missing finial at the center of the bottom base. Why this particular part? According to the seller, the clock was brought over in a suitcase, and to make it fit, the bottom finial was snapped off and lost forever.
Movement showing FMS Mauthe trademark
The clock is over 100 years old, with my research indicating it was made between 1895 and 1914, though the exact year of manufacture remains uncertain. The trademark—a Friedrich Mauthe of Schwenningen (FMS) emblem featuring three spokes with an eagle on top—is distinctive, as Mauthe trademarks are known to reflect the specific period during which the clock was produced.
Despite some benign neglect, the case is in good condition, and everything appears to be original, including the winding key.
The crown
The crown fits into a slot at the top of the clock and can be easily removed if the clock needs to be relocated. The crown is made of wood, while the horse appears to be crafted from a casting material of some kind.
The face
The dial is made of celluloid and has darkened with age. Inside the dial surround, there is a leaf-like emblem, a common design feature from this period.
The base and bottom finials
The base is fairly plain, though the bottom center finial is missing. I plan to replace it.
The coil gong
The coil gong and block with attached movement rails are characteristic of the period.
History of FMS Mauthe
Mauthe clocks have a long and distinguished history in Germany. In 1844, Friedrich Mauthe and his wife Marie founded the company in Schwenningen to produce watch parts. By the late 1860s, Mauthe began manufacturing its own wall clocks and movements. In 1876, Friedrich’s sons Christian (1845-1909) and James (1847-1915) took over the company. In 1886, Mauthe began producing its own springs. Around 1900, the company expanded its offerings to include alarm clocks, pendulum wall clocks, grandfather clocks, office clocks, and the so-called “Buffet Uhren” or “Buffet clocks.” In 1904, the third generation took charge: Eugene Schreiber (1877-1939), son of Christian Mauthe; Dr. Fritz Mauthe (1875-1951), son of Jacob Mauthe; and Alfred Mauthe (1879-1911), son of Jacob Mauthe, helped build upon the foundation of the company.
In 1925, Mauthe introduced a new trademark featuring a right-facing eagle with outstretched wings, clutching a three-part round plate inscribed with the letters F, M, and S. By the 1930s, the company was producing around 45,000 clocks per week, with approximately 60% destined for export markets like England. In the mid-1930s, Mauthe began manufacturing its first wristwatches, some of which were supplied to the German Army (“Wehrmacht”). After 1946, Mauthe resumed wristwatch production, but the company eventually entered a period of decline.
Was it worth $100? I would say yes, but it’s on the higher end of what I would typically pay for a clock like this.
Now, it’s time to clean the clock, install a new bottom middle finial, and add it to the queue for servicing.
I knew this Arthur Pequegnat clock had issues when I bought it but I felt that I just had to have a gingerbread clock for my collection. It is a beautiful clock and once fully restored it will be a show piece.
After taking the clock out of its case and investigating further I think I have located the problem and it appears that a previous owner had attempted a fix. Perhaps the repair attempt was made by the owner himself since it looks like a poor effort because of scratch and dent marks on a particular washer that can be seen in the next photo.
The photo below shows the hour cannon and minute arbor. There is a brass washer located near a toothed gear that is very loose. The washer is not secured to the post. Because the washer is very loose there is no firm connection between the gear and the one immediately beneath it. The hour pinion should have a tight fit on the centre arbor. As a result of the slippage the time side works but does not engage the centre arbor.
The movement obviously needs to be taken apart. However, the problem is twofold. First I am able to dis-assemble the movement but I do not have the skills to fix the centre arbor issue. Secondly, the plates are steel (with nickel plating) with brass bushing inserts which are not likely to be easily knocked out and they do not match modern bushings from today’s suppliers. It would take special reaming tools to install new bushings, tools I do not have. However, I can see that it needs at least 6 new bushings.
Centre arbor
Closer view of the arbor showing a hole that has no purpose
In the meantime I can get to work on the case. The case was likely subjected to heat (stored in hot location like an attic for a long period) and the shellac finish has melted into the alligatored finish you see here.
The solution is a special mix of alcohol, boiled linseed oil, turpentine, lacquer and vinegar. It will require time and patience but I believe I can restore the case to its original condition. There are no cracks, nicks or gouges in the finish so I have a very good starting point, I think.
If you have any comments on this fine classic feel free to post.
In November 2015, I added an Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf “fan top” to my collection. The clock was advertised as non-running, and the seller’s description was accurate—it had its share of challenges. While gingerbread-style kitchen clocks don’t typically appeal to me, I felt that, as a Canadian, if I were to own one, it should be a Pequegnat.
This clock dates back to the Berlin era (before 1917, when Berlin was renamed Kitchener, Ontario) and features the signature nickel-plated steel plates with brass bushings, characteristic of most time-and-strike Pequegnat clocks.
Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf Kitchen Clock
The clock is complete with its Maple Leaf bob, an original untouched dial, most of its label, and a remarkably well-preserved maple leaf decal on the front glass.
Berlin Ontario label, mostly intactMaple Leaf bobMaple Leaf decal
I managed to get the clock in beat by adjusting the verge, but the minute arbor is quite loose, causing the minute and hour hands to stay stationary. Instead of attempting a full repair on my own, I’m considering having the clock professionally serviced. In the meantime, I plan to remove the movement from the case to examine the issue further. It could be a simple fix—or something more complex.
The mottled finish on the entire case
The case poses another challenge. While it has no chips, cracks, or missing pieces, the seller believed the mottled finish added character. I strongly disagree—it’s far from appealing.
To gather restoration ideas, I shared this clock on theNAWCC forum site. Although the finish might be original, it appears the clock was stored in a hot environment, causing the finish to degrade. As one forum member explained, “The case was likely subjected to heat (stored in the attic), and the shellac finish has melted into the alligatored appearance you see now.” When shellac softens, it attracts airborne dirt, further compromising the surface.
Although I’m capable of refinishing the case, the movement also requires repair. After inspecting it, I’ve realized the cost of professional repairs is currently beyond my budget. However, I plan to educate myself on servicing antique clocks and intend to handle the repairs myself.
I did not pay much for this Sessions tambour style clock (circa 1927) though my first thought when I picked it up was that I paid a little too much, such was the work that awaited me. This was obviously a non-working clock when I received it and it did not take much to discover why. It also came without a key and a pendulum bob. Not a problem since I have an extra bob and a universal key set.
Refinished clock case
I suspected a problem when I first saw it advertised. When I finally picked it up I noticed that the strike side spring was fully wound while the time side was completely unwound.
Spring is in good shape
a clamp is holding the strike side spring in place
A turn of the key on the time side told me that nothing was engaging . I suspected three things; a broken spring, broken click or unhooked spring. It turned out to be a broken click. Here it how I found the time side mainspring wheel (see photo below). The click engaged very poorly and ultimately slipped quite a bit making it impossible to wind. Sessions are great clocks but they have a dubious reputation for their click design and the clicks quite often fail over time.
click is loose and worn
and the repair.
Click is filed and tapped firmly into place
The click was filed down and the rivet was made secure by tapping the back lightly with a ball pean hammer on a vice. Brass is pretty soft and easy to work with.
The clock was disassembled and the parts were first cleaned by hand and then placed in an ultrasonic cleaner. The bushing holes were pegged and the pivots were polished. I did not detect any serious bushing wear though at some time in the next year or two the clock will probably require some bushing work.
I test fit the movement but have not put on the top plate just yet since I am waiting for my spring winder to arrive.
Test fitting of wheels and parts
The case was in poor shape and as mentioned in a previous post I stained, used steel wool and applied 3 clear coats to bring the case back to a presentable condition. I am pretty confident that once everything is all back together the clock should run nicely and be a fine addition to my collection.
This is a Sessions Tambour style clock that, according to the label on the inside back access door is a Beveled Number 2. Seems like an odd name for a clock. It is a fairly attractive mantel clock featuring a mahogany finish with faux inlay just below the dial. It is a time and strike clock, two hammers striking on rods. I would put the date of manufacture at the late 1930s or early 1940s. I have 2 other Sessions clocks with a very similar movement so it looks very familiar. This one came without a pendulum bob so I will have to order one from Timesavers. I am not sure at this point whether the bob is a 2.3 oz or 3 oz so I will order both.
The clock has a few issues aside from the missing pendulum bob. I noticed right away that the time side arbor turned freely and therefore it was impossible to wind the time arbor as the click was not engaging the time spring teeth properly. Once the movement was out I inspected the click on the time side and sure enough it had slipped off the teeth.
The time side click is barely engaged
This is a common problem with this type of movement and a repair is definitely in order. The movement itself is very oily and dirty having been sprayed with some sort of lubricant at one point in its life. There was back gunk (old caked oil) on some of the pivots but there was not as much play in the bushing holes than I would have expected. The spring issue probably arose early in its life. One thing which I first thought was an issue turns out not to be. As the photo shows there are helper wires between the escapement and the fly.
Helper wires
They keep the strike levers from bouncing and assure better operation of the striking mechanism. They are in factory installed condition.
Very dirty movement, time side on left
The case was a little banged up. I did a little sanding with 0000 steel wool, removed dozens upon dozens of white paint drops, filled gouges in the veneer with a red chestnut stain and applied the same stain over the entire finish and it seems to pass for mahogany.
Case refresh
A little Brasso metal polish was applied to bring the shine up on the bezel and I Windexed the dial glass inside and out. The results, I think, are impressive. As a final stage I will apply a clear coat on the case.
Can I get this clock to work? I am convinced that if I can fix the time side click, give it a thorough cleaning, this clock will run fine for a long time.
I have been thinking of expanding my collection of wall clocks lately after acquiring a good sampling of mantle and shelf clocks.
I picked up this clock not far from where I live. It is an Ansonia octagonal short drop commonly known as a schoolhouse clock. I am putting the date of manufacture at around the turn of the 20th century though I cannot quite pin down the year. The number 12 is stamped on the movement which could refer to the year “1912”, or even the month of a year. The letters “TT” are also on the movement. This is my first Ansonia clock.
The gentleman I bought it from told me that this clock has been in his family for over 50 years and “I never saw it running”, he says. He was in the process of liquidating his mother’s estate and was loath to give it up as it had been a favorite of hers. He also said that it came out of a schoolhouse in Ontario, Canada; where, he did not know. The case is in great shape though there are other minor issues. One, the face has had some paint applied around the minute / hour pipe presumably to hide stains incurred from years of oily fingers winding and adjusting the clock.
Paint applied to the clock face
You can just barely make out the Ansonia trademark. The second issue is a missing bushing for the hour hand.
Missing bushing for 4 inch hour hand
The bushing inserts into the hour hand hole to friction fit with the hour pipe / cannon. I suspect that the clock was not running was for this very reason. Someone thought the clock was broken. It is an easy fix and requires buying or fashioning a new bushing.
Curiously, there were pieces of rotted elastic band on the pendulum rod just below the suspension spring. I have no clue why. You can still see a bit of it in this photo.
Time only Ansonia movement
Otherwise except for a little adjusting (bending of the crutch to get the beat right} the clock works well and has been ticking away for a day now. There is very little wear on the clock and no obvious bushing issues that I can see although I will have to take the movement out of its case for a further inspection and a thorough cleaning to determine what if anything needs fixing.
Much has been written about the Ansonia clock company. The company history can be found here. The Ansonia Clock Company went into receivership just before the stock market crashed in 1929, a foretelling of things to come, perhaps. The machinery and dies were sold to a Russian Company. A sad end to a glorious American company.
Postscript: I took the movement out of it’s case and found that the clock does indeed need 2-3 new bushings. The wear is not terrible and the clock runs fairly well but bushing work is in order. Once the new hour and minute hands arrive I will clean the movement, re-assemble the clock and display it until my bushing machine comes in the new year.
Nov 10th; new hands arrive in the mail. The hour hand has the required bushing and was an easy friction fit. Now looks and runs as it should.
Probably not a household name in its time, yet U. M. Müller produced clocks that could stand proudly beside the finest German makers of the early 20th century. Their box clocks, in particular, became strong competitors, capturing a market that was shifting away from the ornate Vienna regulator toward something more modern, practical, and affordable. By the 1930s, the sleek German box clock—with its simpler lines and middle-class appeal—had all but closed the Vienna regulator era.
This particular U. M. Müller is a striking example. The oak case features delicate carved inlays on the door, brass strip framing, and a fixed wood crown, giving it a stately presence. The brass bezel surrounds a metal dial with spade and spear hands, while beveled glass framed in brass completes the look. Wall stabilizers ensure a secure mount, reminding us that this was a clock built not just for beauty, but for reliability.
All original German box clock
The case itself has aged beautifully, with no noticeable scratches or blemishes. The dial, however, tells a different story—its surface bears marks and abrasions, including one between the 6 and 7 where the paint is worn through to bare metal. It is not repairable, but it does speak to the long life and service this clock has seen.
Incorrect use of a cleaning agent
Inside, the movement is a classic rack-and-snail time and strike. The clock chimes on a coiled gong—bold at the half hour, more resonant on the hour, but never harsh. As with most spring-driven movements, one should not expect chronometer precision. Still, this example proves steady and reliable, keeping “regular” time across its full 8-day cycle.
Inlay carvings meets brass strip framing
After a careful cleaning and waxing, the case now shows hints of what it must have looked like when new—over 90 years ago.
2 screws are loosened to remove the movement
Collectors often date U. M. Müller clocks by the lion trademark on the dial. A raised tail indicates pre-1930 manufacture; a lowered tail, as on this example, places it in the mid to late 1930s.
An attractive addition to our kitchen
According to Schmid’s Lexikon, the company’s roots trace back to 1867 in Mühlheim. After passing through several hands—including R. Schnekenburger around 1880 and later Gebrüder Müller—the brand built a legacy of solid, handsome clocks that still charm collectors today.
Servicing this Smiths Enfield clock went without a hitch, well almost.
All parts underwent Ultrasonic cleaning, the pivot holes were pegged and oiled and once re-assembled the clock was oiled, then bench-tested out of it’s case to check for beat and proper strike.
On Sept 30th – back in the case without destroying 2 U-shaped retaining clips. Took it back out as the strike train was not engaging. Oiled one component on the strike train and put back in the case. Tested the strike. Seems to be okay but the minute hand was not preset so it strikes 10 minutes before the hour. Some re-adjusting
Back in it’s case
is required. However the clock is running well so far. Although not in bad shape, there are two pivot holes that are suspect. In two years time I will take a look and see if there is any further wear.
Restoring and repairing antique clocks is a rewarding and sometimes challenging journey, and my latest project has been no exception. I recently acquired a time-and-strike mantel clock from the Enfield Clock Company, a British manufacturer known for its utilitarian designs, especially post-war.
Smiths Enfield time and strike mantel clock
In this article, I will share my experiences as I continue to restore this time-and-strike mantel clock, detailing the steps I’ve taken so far, the challenges I’ve faced, and what I’ve learned along the way.
The Enfield Clock Co. & Association with Smiths
The Enfield Clock Company’s history is as intriguing as the clocks they produced. Established in 1929, Enfield became known for its mass-produced timepieces, manufactured using modern assembly line techniques inspired by American factory systems.
By the early 1930s, Enfield was manufacturing clock movements that were sold wholesale, eventually leading to the formation of the Smiths Enfield brand after the company was sold to Smiths Industries in 1933. The clocks, particularly those produced in the 1950s, reflected the utilitarian, post-war aesthetic of the time.
Initial Observations
When I first examined the clock, I could tell that it had been worked on by someone with a tinkerer’s touch, rather than a skilled clockmaker. Although its striking mechanism sounded great and the clock was visually appealing, I knew it required a thorough service to restore its functionality.
This clock occasionally stopped for no apparent reason and was difficult to keep in beat, prompting me to learn more about clock repair. The movement was relatively simple, with two trains, so I set out to clean and service it. As I worked through the process, I encountered some challenges, including an unhooked mainspring and worn pivot holes, but I made progress nonetheless. Though I had to delay some repairs due to my limited experience, I gained valuable insights into the inner workings of this timepiece and look forward to continuing the restoration.
Two pivot holes on the back plate were a little worn but not enough to cause any issues at this time. However, since I know very little about bushing work at this point I think it wise to put off repairs until I know how to do the work. A bushing machine is on the horizon but limited funds do not permit me to tackle those more in-depth repairs just yet. Anyway, back to the movement.
Movement showing hammer, and pendulum leader and bob
While reassembling the strike side the mainspring unhooked. I am not sure why. I was prepared to disassemble the movement to reattach the mainspring but a little wiggling corrected the problem. Once the parts were cleaned in an ultrasonic cleaner and the parts were dried, the movement was assembled and oiled. There are two adjusting two screws on either side of the verge that determine the correct height between the pallets and the escape wheel. Through trial and error, I was able to get a good pendulum swing and a steady beat.
Tricky clip
I decided not to re-attach the 2 clips just yet since it would not take much to break them. Only after the clock has been running reliably and striking correctly will I reattach the clips.
Two ratchets
Not a good design in my view and I wonder if these clocks were ever meant to be worked on after they left the factory.
In the next article, I will share my experiences as I continue to restore this time-and-strike mantel clock, detailing additional steps I’ve taken so, the challenges I’ve faced with this project, and what I’ve learned along the way.
I acquired my Sessions Raven clock about a year ago. It had been serviced by someone knowledgeable about clocks and arrived in excellent condition. The movement had clearly been disassembled, oiled, tested, and the case carefully reconditioned. Interestingly, it also came with a set of instructions from the person who had worked on it.
Ebony in colour and very attractive Detailed operating instructions
I imagine he wanted to ensure the clock found a good home—and it certainly did! The only drawback was the absence of a label, which is always a consideration when purchasing antique clocks. Otherwise, everything appeared to be in order. According to Tran’s book, the leading authority on American clocks, the Sessions Raven dates to the 1920s. It is a time-and-strike clock, featuring a bell for the half-hour and strike rods on the hour. I suspect it was named the Raven because of its deep ebony color—quite striking, in fact.
Time and strike movement showing the bell
The Sessions Clock Company emerged from the E.N. Welch Clock Company in the early 1900s and was once one of the most recognized American clock manufacturers. However, like many others, it struggled to compete with the rise of electric clocks. Despite its efforts to adapt, the company persisted until the late 1960s before ultimately being forced into liquidation in 1969—a bittersweet end to a once-prominent name in horology.
My clock holds a prominent place in my family room. Its simple design reflects the style of its era and blends seamlessly into any space.
No serious collector would admit that they have a Daniel Dakota wall clock in their collection. I have two!
The clcok that started my collection, a humble Chinese clock that still ticks today.
One was converted to quartz. The other was gifted to a family member. Are they attractive clocks? The functional styling is borrowed from American and German box clocks; they are not what one would consider a beautiful clock.
One Daniel Dakota clock was given to me. I took it to a local clock repair person. I will not say he was a competent clock-maker because he was not at all interested in repairing this clock or any other clock for that matter. His method of maintaining a profitable business consisted of replacing every mechanical movement with a quartz one. However, with my blessing he pulled out the movement because it was “broken” and installed a quartz movement. I found out later that a very little work was needed to make this mechanical movement run again.
A previous owner attempted to wind the clock in the wrong direction using a pair of pliers and popped the mainspring out. Though a simple to fix I now have a working movement with no case.
The case was in sad shape. Not surprising since clocks such as this one were never taken care of properly. I removed tacky plastic trim, added two rosettes, re-stained damaged sections of the case and cleaned the glass.
The quartz movement is a Westminster / Whittington chime with auto night shut off. Although many quartz movements can be found around the $10 range this was well over $100. Although there not marking on the movement I believe this one was made by Sieko. Quartz movements can be pricey when you factor in 2 chime tones, a pendulum, auto shut off and so on.
Daniel Dakota movement
My other Daniel Dakota is in the midst of a good cleaning and undergoing some slight adjustments. It is missing a bottom trim piece but I doubt that it will ever be replaced. The bottom piece was likely taken off so that it could sit on a shelf.
Daniel Dakota missing bottom trim piece
Daniel Dakota movement dis-assembled and parts spread out
Chinese movements are not made to the same tolerances as a fine German or American movements. The plates are thin, there are plastic parts (though not on this movement) and no supplier has replacement parts. They have an amazing ability to last almost forever and the manufacturer knew that they would never be serviced. A throw-away mechanical clock in the Chinese tradition of mass marketing. However, you can breathe new life into these movements with a thorough servicing.
Although Daniel Dakota is a successful marketing brand name, you will not find a company site anywhere online. There are many suppliers associated with the name and no single factory where they are produced. Daniel Dakota clocks are sold by many a variety of retailers across North America and they are regarded as a low cost, low quality utilitarian clock for the average home.
The next time you hear someone criticize Daniel Dakota clocks remind them that although they are very inexpensive or can be picked up for almost nothing they will run for many years with very little care.
The Canadian Time clock was produced by the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company, which holds a special place in Canadian horological history. Founded in 1904, the company became the longest-lasting Canadian-based clock manufacturer, operating until 1941. Pequegnat clocks are known for their solid craftsmanship and distinctive designs, contributing significantly to the Canadian clock-making industry during the early 20th century.
Arthur Pequegnat, originally from Switzerland, brought his expertise in clockmaking to Canada, where he established a reputation for high-quality clocks. The company manufactured a wide range of clocks, from wall clocks to mantel clocks, many of which are now highly prized by collectors for their durability and unique aesthetic. Despite the challenges of competing with larger international clock manufacturers, Pequegnat’s attention to detail and commitment to quality ensured the company’s success for several decades.
Today, Pequegnat clocks are considered a piece of Canadian history, and the company’s legacy endures through the ongoing interest of collectors and enthusiasts, like myself, who appreciate the skill and craftsmanship of these antique clocks.
Canadian Time clock by Arthur Pequegnat
This particular clock was made after 1916 in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. Clocks made before 1917 were marked “Berlin” on the dial face. The town was known as Berlin from 1854 until 1912 and became the City of Berlin from 1912 until 1916. Due to the negative association with Germany during the First World War, the decision was made to change the name to Kitchener midway through the war. Today, Kitchener serves as the seat of the Regional Municipality of Waterloo, Ontario.
Label affixed to back of clock
Unfortunately, the exact year my clock was manufactured is unknown as Pequegnat did not date-stamp their movements, but the Canadian Time series was produced up until 1941. By that year, the demand for brass from World War II armament makers, a crucial material for clock movements, forced the Arthur Pequegnat company to halt production. If the clock was made as late as 1941, it would be 72 years old.
Checking on condition of the clock
This clock features Arabic numerals, which was less common since most were ordered with Roman numerals. As a railway clock, the use of Arabic numbers would have made it easier to read for the general public in a train station. The manufacturer allowed customers to choose between Arabic or Roman numerals when ordering. Additionally, buyers could also opt for a version of this clock with time, strike, and calendar functions.
TheCrossed horseshoes were likely added by a previous owner
The crossed horseshoes on the base of a clock are often associated with good luck and protection. In many cultures, horseshoes are considered symbols of good fortune, particularly when they are displayed with the open end facing upward, which is thought to catch and hold luck. I have not seen another Canadian Time clock with crossed horseshoes.
On prominent display in my home
I’m hoping to track down a photo of the clock from its time at the Pictou, Nova Scotia train station before it was decommissioned in the early 1990s, as that could really help narrow down the clock’s manufacturing date.
The clock itself is quite large, measuring 37 inches high, 5 inches deep, and 15 inches wide. It’s made of quarter-sawn oak, which results in boards with annual rings mostly perpendicular to the face, providing greater stability and minimizing warping.
The Canadian Time clock is a reliable timepiece, showcasing the quality and craftsmanship that went into its creation.
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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