Restoring the Balance of a Mauthe Horse Crown Vienna Style Wall Clock

Some clocks have a way of drawing you in immediately, and this Vienna-style wall clock made by Friedrich Mauthe was one of those pieces. The moment I saw it, I knew it had presence—it becomes part of the room.

With its rich walnut case, turned columns, and the distinctive horse finial crowning the top pediment, the clock reflects the late nineteenth-century taste for decorative wall regulators. These clocks borrowed heavily from the famous Vienna regulators but were produced by German makers for a wider market.

When I purchased the clock, I inspected it carefully enough, and everything appeared to be intact. It was not until I had it safely home and hanging on the wall that something seemed slightly off.

The clock didn’t quite look balanced.

At first glance, it was difficult to say exactly why, but the longer I looked at it, the more obvious it became. A closer inspection of the lower portion of the case revealed the problem: one of the decorative finials at the base was missing. There was clear evidence that a piece had once been there.

The likely explanation came from the seller when I contacted them later on. At some point in the clock’s journey from Germany to Canada, the lower finial had been snapped off so the case could fit inside a suitcase. Whether the piece was discarded or simply lost along the way remains a mystery.

Mauthe "horse crown" wall clock

Fortunately, aside from this small detail, the clock remained remarkably original.

Still, once you notice something like that, it becomes impossible to ignore.

Finding a Suitable Replacement

My first thought was that replacing the missing trim piece should not be too difficult. There are a number of suppliers that specialize in clock case hardware and decorative parts, and I began browsing through the usual clock parts sites in search of something that would suit the design.

There were several options, but eventually I chose the finial you see here.

It is flat on one side and comes without a peg, making it adaptable for installation on a variety of cases. Most importantly, its shape complements the overall style of the clock without drawing attention to itself.

When restoring an antique clock, the goal is often to restore balance rather than create perfection. The replacement does not have to be an exact replica as long as it harmonizes with the original design.

In this case, I think it strikes the right balance. It may not be precisely what the factory installed over a century ago, but it looks convincing enough that even a careful observer might assume it has always been there.

Matching the Finish

The trim piece arrived unfinished, which meant it needed to be toned to match the rest of the case. Examining the clock more closely, it appeared to retain its original walnut finish.

With that in mind, I applied several coats of stain until the color blended naturally with the surrounding woodwork. Matching old finishes can be tricky, but patience—and a few test coats—usually brings things into alignment.

Once installed, the difference was immediately noticeable, and balance has been restored.

Restoring the Clock’s Symmetry

Seen from a couple of meters away, the clock now looks exactly as it should. The case once again has the visual symmetry that its original designers intended.

Small decorative elements like these finials may seem minor, but they play an important role in the overall composition of a clock case. Remove one piece and the entire design can feel subtly incomplete.

The “Horse Crown” Vienna Case Style

The decorative horse finial that crowns the pediment is what collectors often refer to as a “Horse Crown” Vienna-style case. While traditional Vienna regulators made in Austria tended to be somewhat restrained in their ornamentation, German makers frequently added dramatic sculptural elements to appeal to export markets.

The rearing horse was a popular motif at the turn of the twentieth century and symbolized strength, motion, and vitality—fitting imagery for a mechanical clock. Mounted above the pediment, the figure gives the clock a distinctive silhouette and immediately draws the eye upward.

Combined with the turned columns, carved mask, and stepped base, the horse crown transforms what would otherwise be a fairly conventional wall regulator into a much more decorative statement piece. Often, you will find clocks offered for sale missing this critical decorative piece.

The movement inside the clock was produced by Friedrich Mauthe, one of the largest German clock manufacturers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Founded in 1844 in Schwenningen in the Black Forest region, the company became known for producing reliable, well-engineered movements that were exported throughout Europe and North America.

The Mauthe Movement

Many Vienna-style clocks from German makers used spring-driven two-train movements with time and strike trains mounted between brass plates. These movements typically strike the hour and half-hour on a coiled gong and are known for their durability and relatively straightforward construction.

Clocks like this were produced in large numbers between about 1890 and the early 1920s, when Vienna-style regulators were still very popular in homes and offices.

A Small Piece, A Complete Clock

From a distance of a few meters, the clock now looks exactly as it should have all along. The case once again has the visual balance that its designer intended.

The replacement may not be identical to the original piece that once adorned the base, but it blends naturally with the rest of the case. Unless someone knows exactly where to look, they would likely never suspect that a small piece of trim once disappeared somewhere along the clock’s long journey from Germany to Canada.

And like many antique clocks, it carries with it not only the passage of time—but a bit of history and a story of its own.

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The Rise of the German Box Clock: A U. M. Müller Example

U. M. Müller clocks were once a familiar name in households across Europe, yet today the brand is not as widely recognized among collectors as some of the larger German makers. That is a bit surprising, because the company produced clocks that could easily stand beside the finest German manufacturers of the early twentieth century.

One area where U. M. Müller truly excelled was with their box clocks. At a time when tastes were shifting away from the tall and highly ornate Vienna regulators, these clocks offered something different—cleaner lines, practical design, and a price that appealed to the growing middle class. By the 1930s, the sleek German box clock had largely replaced the Vienna regulator in many homes, quietly marking the end of an era.

Note the count wheel location on the outside of the front plate

This particular U. M. Müller is a striking example of that transition. The oak case has a stately presence, highlighted by delicate carved inlays on the door, brass strip framing, and a fixed wooden crown. A brass bezel frames the metal dial, which carries classic spade and spear hands. The beveled glass, also set in brass, adds a refined touch. On the back, wall stabilizers ensure the clock hangs securely—another reminder that this was a clock designed not only to look good, but to perform reliably day after day.

The case itself has aged beautifully over the decades, with no noticeable scratches or blemishes. The dial, however, tells a different story. Its surface bears the marks of long service, including an abrasion between the numbers 6 and 7 where the paint has worn through to the bare metal. While it is not something that can really be repaired, it does give the clock a bit of honest character—evidence of the many years it faithfully kept time on someone’s wall.

U M Muller clock dial

Inside is a classic count wheel time-and-strike movement that strikes on a coiled gong. The strike is bold and full on the half-hour and the hour, but never harsh or overpowering. Like most spring-driven clocks, one should not expect chronometer precision, but this example runs just as these clocks were meant to—steady, dependable, and capable of keeping “regular” time across its full eight-day cycle.

After a careful cleaning and waxing, the oak case shows what it must have looked like when new, more than ninety years ago.

Collectors sometimes date U. M. Müller clocks using the small lion trademark on the dial. A raised tail generally indicates a clock made before 1930, while a lowered tail—like the one on this example—places it in the mid to late 1930s.

According to Schmid’s Lexikon, the company’s history dates back to 1867 in Mühlheim, Germany. Ownership changed hands several times over the years, including a period under R. Schnekenburger around 1880.  The company operated as R. Schnekenburger GmbH a.d. Donau before facing financial difficulties, and acquired by Gebrüder Müller in 1923. The firm developed a reputation for building solid, handsome clocks that were both reliable and affordable. Müller clocks were competitive with other German makers such as Junghans, Kienzle, and Gustav Becker, though often at a slightly lower price point aimed at the middle-class market.

In the end, this U. M. Müller is a fine reminder of a moment when clock design was changing. As the grand Vienna regulators slowly disappeared from the walls of European homes, clocks like this stepped in to take their place—simpler, practical, and built for everyday life. Nearly a century later, it still does exactly what it was meant to do: quietly mark the passing of time while adding a bit of character to any room.

Related Articles

  • UM Müller box clock | servicing the movement: I bought this clock in 2013, and while it has been very reliable and running daily, like all things mechanical, it requires attention from time to time.
  • UM Muller box clock;  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.
  • German Box clocks: a journey into clockmaking history: the popularity of Vienna Regulator clocks began to wane towards the early part of the 20th century. The more modern and less ornate design of the box clock appealed to changing tastes and preferences after World War I.

Re-Bushing, Reassembly & Testing of a Gustav Becker Regulator

This two-weightGustav Becker regulator wall clock, purchased in 2016 as a “project clock,” proved early on to be more challenging than I thought. This is the third and final post in this series. For the story behind this clock and an analysis of the steps taken so far, the first and the second posts can be found here and here.

Gustav Becker two weight regulator

After repeated but unsuccessful attempts to source correct replacement parts, the original movement was ultimately replaced with a complete 1918 P27 movement. That decision proved sound. The replacement movement has run reliably for more than nine years, making the recent strike issues described here less a surprise and more a predictable outcome of a long service interval.

The current issue is intermittent stopping during the warning phase, with the warning lever binding against the stop-wheel pin. In the absence of obvious breakage or damage, and given the movement’s extended service interval, the symptoms suggest accumulated wear rather than sudden mechanical failure.

With that diagnosis in mind, let’s now shift to systematic bushing work, careful reassembly, and methodical testing of the movement.

Polishing Bushings

Polishing the pivots prior to addressing pivot hole wear is a critical step, since even minor surface roughness can accelerate wear in otherwise sound bushings. Ensuring the pivots are smooth and true allows any remaining issues to be correctly attributed to pivot hole wear rather than the pivots themselves.

Taig lathe with 1/4 hp motor
Taig metal lathe

The pivots were inspected and polished using my Taig metal lathe (above). An emery board was used to clean and polish each individual pivot. No pivot wear was expected, and none was found.

Bergeon Bushing Machine

Bushing Work

The next step is addressing wear, particularly on the strike side. Pivots in this movement are significantly smaller than those found in mass-marketed American movements. As a result, some of the pivot holes measure only 0.6 to 0.7 mm, requiring small 2 mm diameter Bergeron bushings.

This demands a high level of precision when drilling the plates, as accurate placement is critical. Off by a fraction of a millimeter, and the wheels will not mesh correctly. Two new back-plate bushings were installed on the second and third wheel pivot holes.

After checking the action of the wheels, I debated whether or not to include the fourth wheel pivot hole, which did not look as worn as the other two. I decided not to at this point. Interestingly, both replaced bushings showed punch marks adjacent to the pivot holes, a previous attempt to reduce pivot hole wear by closing them. Punching pivot holes might have been an acceptable practice years ago, but not today.

Reassembly

Working with small pivots presents its own set of challenges. There is always the risk of a bent pivot. Now, it could have been me, or it might have been there for quite some time, but I noticed a slightly bent pivot on the flywheel. Straightening a bent pivot is not for the weak of heart. A broken pivot can be a catastrophe.

Can it be fixed? Yes — and I have done pivot work in the past — but it’s something best avoided whenever possible. I have a staking tool specifically for correcting bent pivots, and I did my best to straighten it. I also have the original movement, so I could have used the fly from that movement if my minor repair had gone sideways.

Other than the minor hiccup described above, assembly went as planned.

Have I ever left a part out? More than once. I’ve put everything together only to discover the hammer arbor looking up at me as the last part in the bin, practically saying, “You forgot me.” Not this time.

Aside from the winding drums, there are only 6 wheels and the fly. The strike levers are on the outside of the front plate. Below the large hour wheel on the front plate are two smaller gears that must be timed. Curiously, there are timing marks on the bottom of the gears, so, using a black marker, I indicated the timing marks on the top of the wheel. This aligns the movement for striking at the 12 o’clock position.

Otherwise, the stop wheel should be very close to 12 o’clock, and the gathering pallet is positioned to clear the rack. Next come the various levers and the taper pins to keep them in place.

Testing

I have five testing stands, but none that accommodate a Vienna Regulator, so the movement was returned to the case for testing. During the testing period, I did not attach the hands or the dial.

With the striking issues finally sorted out, the clock is now running as it should — steady, reliable, and doing exactly what it was meant to do. As of this writing, it is on its second 8-day cycle and keeping time within a few seconds per hour.

Final thoughts

It now seems likely that wear on the striking side lay at the heart of the problem, and those issues have finally been addressed. As with any clock repair, time itself will be the true judge, but for the moment, all signs are encouraging. With a little luck, it will settle in and run contentedly for many years to come.

This has always been one of my favourite clocks in the collection and one that I keep running daily, so it was genuinely disheartening to see it silent for the past few months. I tried every reasonable adjustment to coax it back to life without dismantling the movement, but in the end, there was no substitute for proper disassembly and servicing. Sometimes a clock simply tells you when it is time to do things the right way.

I will let it run through another full eight-day cycle, make any final adjustments that may be needed, and then refit the dial and hands — hopefully marking the return of a familiar and welcome presence in the room.

Related Links

Ten Years Later: An Odd Strike Issue in a Gustav Becker P27 Movement

In 2016, my wife gifted me a two-weight Gustav Becker regulator wall clock. It was a much-appreciated gift, and I spent many hours restoring it, as it had been sold as a “project clock.” The case certainly had its issues, but the most challenging problems lay in the movement itself.

At the time, I was not familiar with Gustav Becker movements, and it did not immediately occur to me that several key components were missing—almost as if a previous owner had harvested parts for another clock. One example was the absence of the star wheel. I contacted the seller, who kindly sent several replacement parts, including a star wheel. Unfortunately, it did not fit.

Missing star wheel, which should be just below the minute wheel

It was then that I learned Gustav Becker had made design changes to these movements over time, meaning that not all parts are interchangeable. It appears the star wheel was sourced from a later model.

That led me to source a replacement movement, which I was able to obtain through an eBay seller. The price was more reasonable than I expected, and the movement arrived intact. Initially, I thought I could harvest parts from it for the original movement; however, as I had already learned with the star wheel, some parts did not fit.

Using replacement parts in antique clocks presents a number of challenges beyond simple fit and function. Even when parts appear correct, subtle differences in design, dimensions, or period manufacturing can affect performance and reliability.

From a collector’s perspective, non-original or mismatched components may also impact a clock’s historical authenticity and, in some cases, its market value. For the restorer, this often requires balancing mechanical integrity and long-term usability against the desire to preserve originality as much as possible. Of course, to the casual observer, the clock appears original.

I ultimately decided to abandon the 1902 movement and use the 1918 P27 one instead. The 1918 movement has been running flawlessly for the past 9 plus year and that is why the issue I am describing in this post surprises me. Or, should it!

Most people would be inclined to dismiss the problem by simply restarting the clock, which is what I initially did, but several hours later, the clock stopped again.

The problem is this: the warning lever, which drops into the warning wheel to stop the strike in warning, seems to freeze intermittently. For proper function, the strike release lever is lifted by the minute wheel pin to release the warning lever. I believe the issue occurs at the stop-wheel pin, where it appears to bind or stick. When I manually lift the warning lever to release the stop wheel, the strike train will run for a while, then stick again.

When I disassembled the movement, I checked for broken or bent teeth, bent pins, and the general condition of the pivots. Everything appeared to look good. However, given that the clock has been running for a long period, the issue now seems more consistent with wear than with a sudden component failure.

One issue could be that excess endshake may be allowing the stop wheel to move fore and aft, altering how the stop pin engages the warning lever. Additionally, many weight-driven warning levers rely purely on gravity for return; any increase in friction can cause the lever to hesitate or become caught on the edge of the pin. For these reasons, I believe this is a general wear issue rather than a broken or failed component.

By way of comparison, the average American-made movement produced a century ago could often continue to run reasonably well despite significant wear, whereas German movements—built with tiny pivots and very close tolerances—tend to be far more sensitive to wear, dirt, and minor loss of power. This difference should perhaps not be unexpected.

The movement is currently disassembled and, after many years of service, likely requires bushing work.

In short, the symptoms point to accumulated wear rather than a specific failed part. The movement will therefore receive full bushing work where needed, followed by a thorough cleaning, reassembly, and testing on the stand. Only once the strike operates consistently and reliably under full weight will the movement be returned to the case.

The Lank House Clock: Tracing a Mauthe Wall Clock Through Parrsboro’s Past

Not long ago, my wife and I were attending a medical appointment in Springhill, Nova Scotia. While we were in the area, we decided that a side trip to Parrsboro fit the bill, as the town was less than a half-hour drive away. It was a leisurely, sunny fall day as we drove through the hills and lakes of northern Nova Scotia, and we were eager to see the sights of Parrsboro, situated on the Minas Basin, which is connected to the world-famous Bay of Fundy. Parrsboro is one of the oldest settled areas of Canada. It is known for its maritime heritage and its wondrous geological formations.

Once in town, we stopped for a coffee, did a bit of shopping, and thought, since we were here, why not check out The Parrsboro Mansion Inn?

The Parrsboro Mansion Inn – photo taken with the owner’s permission

There was a very specific reason for our visit to the inn— in 2018, I had purchased a clock that originally came from this house. Today, it’s a family-run business, but many years ago, it was a private home. We stopped and talked to the present owner, who kindly provided us with a history of the house and some photos.

I tried to imagine where in the house the clock would be hung—perhaps in the living room or the parlour. “You wouldn’t consider gifting us the clock,” the owner said. “Let me think about it,” I replied.

Now, let’s go back in time.

The house in the 1930’s when owned by the Lank family

In 1873, Henry Davison operated a blacksmith shop on this land near the roadside, not too far from the town centre. In 1898, Joseph Jeffers purchased the eight-acre property and built a spacious home for his family.

The Jeffers family retained ownership until 1930, when it was sold to Hilbert Lank. Hilbert died in 1972, but the family stayed on for a number of years. To everyone in the Parrsboro community, it is still known as the Lank House, even though the Lank family sold it to its present owners some years ago.

Back in 2018, when I bought the clock, the seller explained that the clock was brought over from Europe when her husband’s family moved to Canada in the 1890s and had been in the family ever since. I assume that when I bought the clock, the house had already been sold and the family was in the process of liquidating its contents.

The house (arrow) is set back quite far from the road.

The clock is a stylish German-made Friedrich Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock that reflects the period. Judging from the design of the trademark, I determined that it was made in the late 1890s—consistent with the information provided by the seller.

The clock case was not without its issues — it was missing two finials and some case pieces, but the biggest challenge was the finish, which was heavily “alligorated”. This is a term that describes a finish that has tiny, irregularly shaped cracks and ridges that appear on the surfaces. Extensive exposure to heat and sunlight causes the finish to soften, attract dirt and dust, dry out, and contract, leaving behind a rough, textured finish.

The clock had clearly been stored for a long time, and it had suffered as a result. I was loath to strip down the case, but it was necessary.

A section of the crown that represents the entire case

In keeping with its history, we now call it the Lank Clock.

Frederick Mauthe wall clock circa 1895

From a chance online listing to a deep dive into Parrsboro’s history, this clock has connected me to a story spanning more than a century. Restoring it is not just about repairing a case and servicing a movement—it’s about preserving a piece of time, heritage, and memory. Every tick now carries the echoes of Lank House, and it will continue to tell its story for generations to come.

A Box of Parts, and a Special Clock That Journeyed Through Time

Every old clock has a story to tell — where it came from, who owned it, and the moments in time it quietly witnessed. Unfortunately, as clocks are sold, traded, or passed down, those stories often get lost along the way. The clock may keep ticking, but the people and places behind it fade into mystery. Every so often, though, one comes along with its story still intact, and that’s always special — it connects you not just to the clock, but to the lives that once revolved around it.

The clock I’m about to write about came with a story; in fact, it came in pieces, and that’s where the adventure begins. Piecing it back together wasn’t just a repair job; it was a bit of detective work, trying to uncover what happened to it and how repairs were addressed along the way. Every screw, every bit of wear, had something to say — and that’s what makes this hobby so fascinating.

One of the most remarkable clocks in my collection is a Junghans Crispi wall clock that survived the 1917 Halifax Explosion. I know this because the previous owner told me their family had kept it for more than a century, passing it down from one generation to the next. When it finally came to me, it wasn’t much to look at — just a box of parts and fragments of what once had been. After all those years, I suspect the family decided it was time to let it go, perhaps hoping someone would bring it back to life.

And that’s exactly what I set out to do. Piece by piece, gear by gear, I restored the Crispi to its former dignity. During the restoration process, I discovered that not everything about the clock was original. Most of the case components had survived — including the top crown, crown base, and bottom section, finials, beat plate, many case decorations, the movement, dial and hands, and pendulum — but the frame had been rebuilt. I knew it immediately when I observed Robertson screws on the backboard.

A catalog image from the Junghans website was extremely helpful

The frame was skillfully and carefully crafted from solid oak, suggesting that when the clock fell from the wall during the Halifax Explosion, the original frame must have shattered beyond repair. Despite the excellent woodworking skills, the previous owner knew very little about clock repair, so it was left as an incomplete project and sat in a box for decades, gathering a thick blanket of dust and grime.

Junghans clock in pieces
A box of parts

Restoration included new glass panels, re-staining the case, sourcing a few case parts, and servicing the movement.

Junghans Crispi dial face
Junghans Crispi dial face and hands

When the case was restored and the movement was finally ticking again, I sent a photo of the finished clock to the family who had sold it. They never replied, and I can only imagine they felt a pang of seller’s remorse seeing it whole and beautiful once more.

Junghans Crispi time and strike wall clock
Junghans Crispi time and strike wall clock

Even now, every time I walk past it, I can’t help but picture that December morning in 1917 — the moment when the blast shook the city and sent the clock crashing from its wall in a small North Halifax home. It must have lain broken for decades, silent witness to one of the darkest days in Canadian history. Today, it keeps perfect time once again, a survivor with a story that still speaks through its steady, patient tick.

Safely Using Brasso: Polishing Tips for Antique And Vintage Clock Collectors

After retiring from active duty, my father continued to serve in a reserve unit for several years. As a child, I still remember the formal occasions that called for his ceremonial uniform, when every detail had to be perfect. Before heading out, he would sit down with a tin of Brasso and a soft cotton cloth, patiently polishing each brass button and his service medals until they gleamed. The smell of the polish and the steady rhythm of his work became part of the ritual, a quiet reminder of the pride he carried in his service to Canada.

Brasso metal polish

My father trusted Brasso, and so did many who regarded it as a reliable metal polish, valued for its ability to restore the shine to brass and copper.

Yet, as effective as it is, using Brasso without care can do more harm than good. Antique clock collectors, in particular, should be cautious since many valuable parts can lose their patina or protective finish if polished too aggressively.

Read The Instructions

When using Brasso, it is important to start with restraint. Less is more! Always read the instructions on the label and, if possible, test it on a small hidden section before committing to polishing the entire surface. Apply it sparingly with a soft cloth, working in gentle circular motions. Ensure you are in a well-ventilated space, as the fumes can be strong for some. Once the polish has done its job, buff thoroughly with a clean cloth to remove any residue and bring up the shine.

For detailed work, I use cotton swabs, which are excellent for accessing tight spaces.

A Word Of Warning

What you should not do is just as important. Brasso should never be applied to lacquered, painted, or plated surfaces, as it will strip away the finish and expose the bare metal. Special caution is needed with brass bezels around painted dials—Brasso will eat through the paint very quickly (yes, I know from experience). It should also be avoided on plastics, wood, and gemstones, as it can permanently scratch or stain them.

Some time ago, I purchased an U. M. Muller box clock. Everything about it was perfect except for the dial. A small section of paint was missing, likely the result of someone attempting to clean it with an abrasive cleaner (photo below). This is exactly the kind of damage Brasso can cause on a dial.

Irreversible damage to a clock dial

Immersing objects in Brasso is also not recommended—the product is made for surface polishing, not soaking. If you are working with thin layers of gold or silver plating, Brasso is too aggressive and will wear them away over time. Finally, don’t leave residue behind; always wipe the parts clean to prevent streaks or uneven tarnish from developing later.

Clock cases, dials, and movement parts often have lacquer, plating, or original patinas that Brasso can irreversibly damage. The very character of an old clock—its aged glow or mellow surface tone—can be lost with a single overzealous polishing. In horology, a gentle hand is usually best. Cleaning and preservation are preferable to aggressive polishing, especially if the clock has historic or sentimental value.

Tarnished weight on the left, polished weight on the right

Using Brasso brings back the shine, but it’s only temporary. No matter how well it’s polished, brass will eventually react with its surroundings and tarnish again.

Brass weights and pendulum polished on a 1970s Hermle wall clock

Since Brasso contains ammonia, avoid skin contact, and rinse thoroughly with water if it gets into your eyes.

Safer Alternatives

If you are hesitant about using Brasso, there are safer alternatives. Mild soap and warm water can often remove surface grime without damaging the finish. I often used diluted Murphy’s Soap as an effective general cleaner. A simple mixture of vinegar, salt, and flour is a time-honored homemade polish that is less abrasive. For light cleaning, microfiber cloths can work wonders, often restoring a soft luster without the need for any chemicals at all.

A Wide Variety Of Cleaners

Commercial products such as Maas, Wright’s Brass Polish, Flitz, Twinkle, or Simichrome are also designed to clean metals while being gentler on delicate surfaces. I have not used these products myself, but I know several clock repairers who vouch for them. Personally, Brasso has always worked as expected.

The Science Of Brasso

When you apply Brasso, you’re essentially removing oxidation, dirt, and surface tarnish with abrasives and solvents. The surface looks bright afterward, but it isn’t “sealed.” Over time, the copper in the brass reacts with oxygen, moisture, and even substances in the air like sulfur compounds. This leads to the gradual formation of oxides and sulfides — the brownish tarnish we recognize.

Unless you coat the polished brass with a protective barrier such as lacquer, wax, or a clear sealant, this reaction is inevitable. Most brass weights in vintage tall-case clocks are coated with lacquer, but handling them over time allows sweat to eat through the lacquer, causing the weights to tarnish. Use cotton gloves when handling lacquered weights.

Within my circle of clock enthusiasts, there is plenty of debate about the use of Brasso, with both positive and negative claims. For me, however, Brasso remains the preferred product for cleaning brass. Although Brasso remains a useful product, it is not the only choice and not always the best one. The key is to use restraint, and when in doubt, take the gentlest approach possible.

There are times when the best polish for a cherished object is simply to leave its history, patina, and character intact.

Top 9 Antique Clock Myths Debunked for Collectors

If you’ve been around antique or vintage clocks for any length of time, as I have, you’ve probably heard a few “truths” that get passed along like family recipes. Some have a sprinkle of fact in them, others are pure folklore, and a few can actually cause more harm than good. So, let’s sit down, pour a cup of coffee on this fine Monday morning, and bust a few of the most common myths I hear all the time.

Myth #1 – Overwinding A Clock

Let’s start with the big one: the infamous “over-winding” myth. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard, “It was running fine until I over-wound it!” Here’s the reality — you can’t hurt a healthy clock just by winding it all the way. If it stops when fully wound, the culprit is likely dried oil, dirt, or worn parts. Old, dried-up oil can turn into a sticky glue that causes the mainspring coils to cling to each other, thereby stopping a clock.

When I bring home an old spring-wound clock, the very first thing I do is let the springs down completely, give them just a small wind, and then see if the movement runs. If it does, that’s my cue that the springs need a proper cleaning and lubrication, right along with the rest of the movement.

Myth #2 – More Oil Is Better

Then there’s the advice some give to oil a clock every single year. I get it — we want our clocks to run smoothly. But adding fresh oil without cleaning first is like pouring new motor oil into an engine without changing the filter. You’re just mixing clean oil with grime and making an abrasive paste that speeds up wear. Most clocks are perfectly happy with a proper cleaning and oiling every four to five years. The only exception is that, after an inspection at the two-year mark, if it’s clear the pivots are dry and there is no residue around the pivot holes, a light oiling is a prudent step, provided only a small amount of clock oil is applied.

Myth #3 – A pendulum Clock “Adjusted for level” Will Work On Any Surface

Placement is another overlooked detail. I’ve seen pendulum clocks happily ticking away on a sturdy wall, and I’ve seen others struggle just because they’re sitting on a wobbly shelf. Uneven or unstable surfaces throw the clock out of beat and mess with its timing.

When someone says a pendulum clock was “adjusted for level,” it means that during servicing, the clock was placed on a level surface and its beat was adjusted accordingly. If the clock is later moved to an uneven or non-level surface, the beat will need to be readjusted to match the new position.

Get a clock with a floating balance escapement; it will work nicely on just about any uneven surface.

It is easy to place a mantel clock with a floating balance

Myth # 4 – A loud Ticking Clock Is An Unhealthy Clock

And while we’re on the topic of how a clock sounds — louder doesn’t always mean healthier. A good clock doesn’t need to shout; an even, crisp tick is a much better sign than a booming one.

However, keep in mind that some clocks are loud because of case acoustics, or they are located in areas where the sound is amplified, a hallway or a small room with hard surfaces, perhaps. Some surfaces can even act like acoustic amplifiers.

Arthur Pequegant Brandon II
Arthur Pequegant Brandon wall clock, a loud ticker

I also believe that the type of escapement is a factor. Due to their mechanics, recoil escapements are always louder than all others. I have an Arthur Pequegnat Brandon wall clock with a recoil escapement in a room with six other clocks — and which one is the loudest? The Brandon, of course! It’s almost as if it’s saying, “Look at me, I’m the loudest in this room.”

Myth # 5 – WD-40 Works Well As A lubricant

One myth that makes clock repairers wince? WD-40. Yes, it might make a sticky clock run for a little while. But it also strips away proper lubrication and leaves a sticky film that attracts dust like a magnet. It’s the short-term fix that leads to long-term headaches.

What does the WD in WD-40 stand for? WD in WD-40 stands for “Water Displacement.” The product was originally designed to repel water and prevent rust, and the “40” refers to it being the 40th formula the chemists tried before they found one that worked effectively. Who knew?

Now, please don’t tell me it worked for you!

Myth # 6 – The Older the Clock, The More Valuable It Is

And while we’re setting the record straight, let’s talk value. Not every old clock is a gold mine. Age is only part of the story — rarity, maker, originality, and condition matter much more. Old is not gold, as they say. An 1850 Ogee clock might have stood the test of time, but it was made in the thousands, so it’s actually not all that rare.

George H Clark 30-hour Ogee shelf clock, circa 1850, for a ridiculously low price at auction

Of course, there are always exceptions. Well-preserved French clocks, such as a Louis XIV cartel clock of the 17th century, prized for their exquisite craftsmanship, ornate gilt bronze (ormolu) cases, and fine enamel dials, can be quite valuable.

However, many are often surprised to find out that their 100-plus-year-old clock is worth next to nothing.

Myth # 7 – Don’t Assume Black Forest Means “Made in Germany

Also, don’t assume the words “Black Forest” mean German-made. Some Canadian and American makers used the name simply because it sounded exotic and marketable. For example, the Blackforest Clock Company of Toronto (which became the Forestville Clock Company in 1941) produced reliable clocks for the home. While the cases were made in Canada, the movements were sourced from England, France, and, more typically, Germany.

Myth # 8 – It’s Running Fine, So It Doesn’t Need A Service

Another one I hear often: “It’s running fine, so it doesn’t need service.” The truth? Even a clock that’s keeping time can be quietly wearing itself out if it’s running on dry bushings or worn pivots. A thorough inspection should reveal any issues with the clock’s movement.

Myth # 9 – An Antique Clock Should Always Look “Like New”

And please, don’t feel you have to polish away every bit of patina. That gentle wear tells the story of your clock’s journey through the decades.

When we think of antiques, there’s often a temptation to restore them until they look spotless and brand new. But with antique clocks, that shiny, polished look isn’t always the goal, and here’s why.

Patina is the natural aging and mellowing of a clock’s surfaces over time. It’s the soft glow on wood, the subtle tarnish on brass, and the gentle wear marks that tell a story. This “aged finish” is like a fingerprint of the clock’s life, showing decades, sometimes centuries, of use, handling, and care.

Stripping away that patina by over-polishing or refinishing can actually damage the clock’s historical value. Collectors and experts often prize original finishes because they preserve the clock’s authenticity and character. A well-preserved patina connects us directly to the past, making the clock not just a timekeeper but a piece of living history.

Having said all that, I’ll admit I’m certainly guilty of refinishing the odd old clock now and then. After all, I keep many of them for my personal collection, and refinishing is a great way to learn new restoration techniques.

It also allows me to bring out the original beauty that may have been hidden under years of dirt and wear, which I believe is a good thing in certain situations. Plus, sometimes a carefully done refinishing can help stabilize fragile wood or finishes, ensuring the clock can be enjoyed for many more years.

And I will throw in two bonus myths.

Bonus Myth #1 – Serial Numbers Always Tell A Clock’s Date of Manufacture

Lastly, serial numbers. While they can sometimes pinpoint a clock’s date of manufacture, this only works for certain makers with complete records. Unless you can match the serial number to a verified database or understand the dating system the maker used during production, it’s merely an educated guess as to when the clock was made.

Clock company catalogs are an excellent resource for dating an antique clock—if you can find them! For example, if you have a clock made by Junghans of Germany, they offer an excellent catalog archive on their website.

Many of the serial number charts floating around online are best taken as educated guesses, not hard facts.

That said, many movements have no numerical markings beyond the trademark.

Bonus Myth #2 – A Quick Bath Is All A Movement Needs To Run Properly

One common myth I come across is that you can clean a clock simply by dunking the whole movement into a cleaning solution without taking it apart first. It sounds like a quick fix, but in reality, this can cause more harm than good. Clock movements are made up of delicate parts that need to be carefully disassembled, cleaned individually, and then properly lubricated.

Dunking the entire mechanism risks damaging pivots, bushings, and other components, not to mention leaving grime trapped in places you can’t see or reach. Proper cleaning takes time and patience, but it’s the only way to ensure your clock runs smoothly.

Duncan Swish was NOT a famous clockmaker!

At the end of the day, part of the joy of collecting clocks is hearing the stories — and sometimes, debunking them. Myths may be fun to repeat, but knowing the truth will help you keep your clocks in good health and their history intact. After all, a well-cared-for clock doesn’t just tell the time… it tells its own story.

If you know of any other clock myths or stories that deserve a closer look, I’d love to hear them—drop a comment below and let’s keep the conversation ticking!

A Simple Mantel Clock Made by the Blackforest Clock Company

Mention of the Blackforest Clock Company immediately brings to mind the Black Forest region in Germany. However, Blackforest was actually a Canadian clock company founded in 1928 in Toronto, Ontario, by Austrian immigrants Leopold and Sara Stossel.

The company initially imported both clock movements and complete clocks from Germany, marketing them through department stores and jewelry retailers across Canada.

Some clocks were assembled locally at the company’s facility on Wellington Street East in Toronto. Early on, movements—primarily German—were installed in clock cases crafted in house.

However, it is quite possible that Walter Clock Company of Kitchener, Ontario made some of the early clock cases for the Blackforest Clock Company. While definitive documentation is scarce, several Canadian clock historians and collectors have suggested that Walter Clock Co.—a known case manufacturer at the time—supplied wood cases to various Canadian clock assemblers, including Blackforest.These locally made cases were often well-built, showcasing traditional styles like tambour, and buffet clock designs, tailored to Canadian tastes.

As the business evolved, complete mantel clocks were increasingly imported fully assembled from Germany. However, this arrangement was disrupted by the outbreak of the Second World War. In 1941, amid growing anti-German sentiment, the company rebranded itself as the Forestville Clock Company. During wartime, with access to German supply chains cut off, the company sourced its movements from England, the United States, and even France.

By the mid-1950s, Forestville resumed imports from Germany, with Friedrich Mauthe emerging as one of their most significant movement suppliers. These postwar clocks are known for their quality and reliability. Despite their efforts to modernize and diversify, Forestville did not survive much beyond the late 1970s, as inexpensive quartz movements and changing consumer preferences reshaped the clock industry.

With a discussion of the brief history of the company behind us, we now come to my latest acquisition. In all honesty, I couldn’t resist. As I’m currently traveling, a friend kindly picked up the clock for me in Nova Scotia. The price? Just $15. Normally, I would not be interested, but it is an old Canadian clock company, and I have a preference for collecting Canadian-made clocks and those with a strong Canadian connection, and the price was right.

Though the label says it is a ‘chime’ clock, it is actually a time-and-strike (rack and snail) mantel clock, likely made in the mid-1930s, I would say.

Is it perfect? Absolutely not. The case needs a caring touch, and the glass dial bezel is missing. It’s not currently running, but everything is intact, and it should function after a thorough cleaning.

Built to Last? Comparing Antique and Vintage Clock Movements

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-new Hermle movement 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.

Feature/AspectAmerican Clocks (1880–1930)German Clocks (1930–1980)
Typical BrandsTypically, Seth Thomas, Ansonia, Ingraham, Gilbert, WaterburyHermle, Kienzle, Junghans, HAC, Urgos
MaterialsThick brass plates, large & strong steel pivotsThinner brass plates, higher zinc content*, smaller pivots
Build QualityHeavy-duty, rugged, simpleLightweight, more delicate components, tiny pivots, plated pivots, temporarily
Tolerance for WearHigh—can run even when bushings are very wornWear develops quickly, multiple bushings are often needed
Pivot Hole WearSlow to develop, sometimes bushing is not requiredIncreased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, made serviceable by the factory
Design PhilosophyLong-lasting, serviceable by ownersIncreased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, making it serviceable by the factory
Mechanism ComplexitySimple strike/spring trains, easy to diagnose and remedySelf-correcting chime/strike, more moving parts, greater chance of malfunction
MainspringsPowerful, overbuilt, are often reusableNarrower, tightly wound, sometimes prone to breakage, often reusable
Service RequirementsCan go years without a serviceSensitive to dry oil or dirt; must be oiled regularly, shorter period between services
Common IssuesDirty oil, broken mainsprings, worn bushingsWorn bushings, broken chime hammers, gear slop
Longevity (w/o service)25 to 50 years20–30 years
Ease of Repair TodayHigh – parts are widely available, with forgiving tolerancesPre-war German clocks were very robust, and post-war had a designed lifespan
Intended LifespanGenerational/heirloom usePre-war German clocks were very robust, post-war had a designed lifespan
Notable ExceptionsCheaper “kitchen clocks” with thinner platesSome 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 handcrafted English travel 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.

Looking Beyond the Surface: How Survivorship Bias Shapes Our View of Antique Clocks

If you’ve ever browsed an antique shop or clock auction and marveled at the craftsmanship of century-old clocks, you might find yourself thinking: “They sure made things better back then.” And while that’s sometimes true — many antique clocks were built with care and skill — there’s a hidden trap in that assumption.

It’s called survivorship bias.

What Is Survivorship Bias?

Survivorship bias is a common thinking error where we draw conclusions based only on the things that made it through a process, while ignoring those that didn’t. In doing so, we develop a distorted view of reality.

We often lament that cars from the 1950s and ’60s we think were better built than those today, forgetting that many were poorly built even back then. The ones that survive often bear little resemblance to how they were originally manufactured — replacement parts have been modified and improved over the years, making them seem more durable than they actually were. So while some vintage cars were outstanding, the idea that they were all built better doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.

Scottish tall case clock
Scottish tall case clock, circa 1848

We often hear that “Anyone can become a billionaire if they just work hard and follow their passion.” But in reality, we hear about the few massively successful startups like Apple, Google, or Tesla, but not the thousands of startups that fail every year, many with equally passionate, hardworking founders.

In the world of art and literature, we hear, “If your work is good, you’ll get discovered.” But in the real world, many great writers, musicians, and artists never get recognition. We remember Shakespeare, Jimmy Hendrix, Andy Warhol, or Hemingway—not the countless others who were equally or more talented but remained unknown.

And in horology? It means assuming that most antique clocks were well-made, simply because the ones we see today are the ones that survived.

The Clocks We Don’t See

The clocks in our collections today — the Seth Thomas regulators, Arthur Pequegnats, Vienna regulators, and elaborately carved Black Forest cuckoos — survived decades of use. They endured house moves, children’s fingers, neglect, and sometimes even disasters like floods and fires.

Brands like New England Clock Company or Gilbert produced thousands of clocks, but many examples haven’t stood the test of time, not necessarily because they were inferior, but because they were ordinary

But they’re only part of the story.

A great many clocks didn’t make it. Countless kitchen clocks, shelf clocks, novelty pieces, and cheaply made imports wore out, broke down, or simply weren’t valued enough to be saved. Some were discarded when electric clocks — and later, quartz movements — came along.

Others were lost during attic clean-outs, yard sales, or were upcycled (an ogee clock converted into a curio cabinet), while many were simply discarded. In some cases, their movements survived, salvaged as spare parts by a professional repairer or an enthusiast.

A common early 20th-century kitchen clock by Sessions

Designed obsolescence and why old clocks still work

What we don’t see are all the poorly made clocks—both old and modern—that broke down and were discarded, especially those intentionally designed with a limited lifespan. For example, many alarm clocks were built with planned obsolescence in mind. While they are often fixable, they were not originally designed to be repaired.

Baby Ben, made in China
Baby Ben, made in China, designed with a short lifespan in mind

During the late 1800s and early 1900s, companies like Ingraham, Sessions, and Waterbury were churning out affordable clocks for middle-class households. Many of these were built to a price point, not to last generations.

Grandfather clocks from the 1970s and ’80s were often designed with a useful lifespan of about 25 years. So why are so many still running today, decades beyond their expected service life? Survivorship bias may offer us a clue: the ones we still see are the exceptions—the clocks that were better made, gently used, well maintained, or lucky.

The many that failed early or were discarded quietly don’t show up in our collections or on auction sites, so we assume they never existed or that these clocks were built to last forever. But the full picture tells a more nuanced story. Survivorship bias hides their absence, leading us to believe that the average quality was higher than it actually was.

A case in point: my Ridgeway grandfather clock has been running regularly since I acquired it in 2013. The clock isn’t necessarily better made than others from its era, but when I bought it from the seller in Halifax, he told me it had belonged to his mother and was likely rarely kept wound. When it eventually stops—and that day will come—I will face several choices: repair it, replace the movement, or discard the clock altogether.

Ridgeway grandfather clock

So when we look around and see only the clocks that survived, we risk thinking that all clocks from 100 years ago were reliable, attractive, and well-built. That’s not true. We’re looking at a biased sample — the winners of the survival game.

And let’s not forget that many of the clocks we admire today wouldn’t still be ticking if not for the patient efforts of collectors and restorers who brought them back from the brink.

What This Means for Collectors and the Value of Their Prized Clock

Understanding survivorship bias in horology serves as a helpful reminder to appreciate the clocks we do have — they endured, though the fact that they survived does not necessarily make them valuable or rare.

Recognizing this bias helps us avoid assuming that everything old is of high quality or value, and encourages us to remain open to discovering lesser-known makers or designs that weren’t widely preserved, perhaps because they were ahead of their time, produced in small numbers, or simply unlucky.

A New Haven Schoolhouse clock was saved from the trash bin; not particularly pretty, but still a reliable timekeeper

Final Thoughts

Antique clocks are storytellers — not just of time, but of survival as well. Each one we wind today represents dozens or hundreds that didn’t make it. That’s part of their magic. And as collectors, restorers, or admirers, it’s worth remembering: what we see is just the tip of the horological iceberg.

A.G.U. Lenzkirch: Rare Opportunity to Own a Historic Clock Trademark

Over the years, I’ve explored countless stories tied to the world of horology, but few carry the prestige, legacy, and craftsmanship of A.G.U. Lenzkirch, one of the oldest and most respected German clockmaking brands. While there is much more to say about this iconic name, I’ve prepared a brief summary—based on information provided by brand owner Jens of the Jens German Company—highlighting its rich history and significance in the world of fine clockmaking.

In an era when heritage brands are being revived and newly appreciated, the A.G.U. Lenzkirch trademark is now available for purchase. For those with vision—whether launching a new line of precision clocks or watches, honoring the legacy of Black Forest clockmakers, or building a collection rooted in history—this is a rare opportunity to own a name synonymous with excellence.

Lenzkirch factory 1920s

Serious offers are welcome. While past estimates placed the brand’s value between EUR 50,000 and EUR 80,000, Jens believes a more reasonable and fair offer can be negotiated. Naturally, any transfer of ownership must be completed formally through a lawyer or notary.

If you’re interested in acquiring this historic trademark, feel free to reach out with your offer. You can contact Jens through me. Perhaps, like me, you’ll recognize the potential to breathe new life into a name that once set the standard for German clockmaking.

This is a unique opportunity—one that doesn’t come around often.


The Lenzkirch Story

Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation Lenzkirch (Public Company for Lenzkirch) was founded in 1851 in the village of Lenzkirch in Baden by Eduard Hauser, who had trained in France and Switzerland. The company carried on the tradition of Black Forest clockmakers. Hauser, the son of a teacher, was born on August 21, 1825, and gained experience building music boxes under Johann George Schopperle. During this period, he developed skills in metalworking, precision mechanics, musical instrument design, and even music composition.

A catalog selection of regulator clocks

The firm became renowned for producing exceptionally fine regulators. Well into the 1920s, Lenzkirch was still crafting precision movements with compensated pendulums. Junghans eventually acquired the company, and the factory closed in 1932, a casualty of the collapsed wall regulator market.


Company History

The Beginning of a Clock Empire

Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation in Lenzkirch was the oldest clock factory among the Black Forest manufacturers. Founded by clockmaker Eduard Hauser and Ignaz Schopperle, a mechanical organ maker, the company began in 1849 in a modest workshop producing clock parts. These were sent to clockmakers for final assembly, a shift from the traditional practice where clockmakers produced every part by hand.

Precision regulators

Hauser and Schopperle aimed to introduce “serial assembly,” delivering compact, machined, and pre-assembled clock movements to clockmakers. This innovation marked a turning point in horological manufacturing.

The Growth of the Company

Hauser soon employed 14 workers using hand-driven flywheel lathes and other tools. He invested heavily in machinery, draining much of his capital, and faced payroll and operational expenses without a robust marketing network or distribution plan. Growth was slow.

On August 31, 1851, Hauser approached Franz Joseph Faller, Joseph Wiest, Nikolaus Rogg, and the brothers Johann Nikolaus and Paul Tritscheller. Together, they officially formed Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation in Lenzkirch. In 1865, their brother Albert Tritscheller joined to study international clockmaking practices. With new financial support and strong management, Lenzkirch flourished. Powered by two steam engines and equipped with a gold and silver plating shop and a tool-and-die workshop, the company achieved remarkable technical excellence. Secrecy was paramount—Hauser famously covered machinery with linen sheets to protect trade secrets from visitors.

Lenzkirch patent, 1881 for a gong support bracket

Delivering Clocks Becomes a Challenge

Eventually, Lenzkirch began full in-house movement assembly, with wooden cases imported and finished at the factory. The company’s reputation soared with the introduction of its German regulator, which won numerous awards in 1860–61. The Viennese-style wall regulator also gained popularity. The firm invested in R&D to develop durable mainsprings, both for its own clocks and others.

8-day regulators

However, transporting the growing volume of finished clocks became a major obstacle. Franz Joseph Faller, fluent in several languages, launched an aggressive marketing and distribution campaign. He circulated catalogs, sent representatives to international expos, and opened offices in Florence and Venice. But operations remained based in the Black Forest.

After years of lobbying, Faller secured a railway extension to Lenzkirch, and on May 21, 1887, the first train arrived. Tragically, during the celebration, Faller suffered a fatal stroke moments after delivering the welcoming speech.

The Rise and Fall of Lenzkirch

For over 80 years, the Lenzkirch Clock Factory employed thousands who took pride in its renowned craftsmanship. At its peak, the factory had over 600 workers and contributed to making Lenzkirch a wealthy town synonymous with high-quality Black Forest clocks.

Lenzkirch was also a pioneer in employee benefits. In 1858, it began offering medical insurance and a disaster relief fund. Despite economic downturns and the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, the company maintained its commitment to quality.

Yet competition grew. New firms with modern equipment and better capital reserves began to outpace Lenzkirch. The company, still operating with mid-19th-century equipment, struggled to adapt. In 1928, the Junghans brothers proposed a merger. The factory was dissolved in August 1929 and functioned as a Junghans satellite until 1932, before being sold to a beauty salon equipment manufacturer in 1933.

Classic styling by Lenzkirch

Even today, Lenzkirch clocks remain highly collectible. Many are listed on eBay and through antique dealers and auction houses worldwide. Known for their quality and precision, Lenzkirch clocks continue to capture the attention of horology enthusiasts. The company ultimately sold over 1,000,000 clocks, with each movement stamped on the back as a testament to its legacy.

Disclaimer | My Role in the Sale

If you have further questions concerning the sale, I can pass them on to Jens.

As I mentioned, if you’re interested in acquiring this historic trademark, feel free to reach out with your offer.

However, I want to make it clear that I have no personal interest in profiting from the sale of this brand. As I’ve mentioned to Jens, my role here is simply to help him amplify this information and share it with readers of this blog. There may be someone among you, or someone you know, who would be genuinely interested in acquiring and preserving this prestigious and historic clock brand.

The Unique Charm of Mauthe Buffet Clocks

Mauthe mantel clocks are widely available in various shapes and sizes, often appearing on online marketplaces, at garage sales, flea markets, and in antique shops. However, not all are well-preserved—many show signs of age and neglect. This particular round-top mantel clock stands out for its excellent condition, especially considering its age.

A well-preserved “buffet” clock

While commonly referred to as a mantel or shelf clock, Mauthe marketing literature described this style as a “buffet clock.” In the mid-20th century, clocks of this design were often intended to sit on buffets, sideboards, or credenzas in dining rooms. This placement allowed the clock to serve both a decorative and a practical purpose, complementing the room’s furnishings. The term “buffet clock” reflects its association with this specific setting, distinguishing it from mantel or shelf clocks, which were typically placed in living areas or on fireplaces.

This three-train Westminster chime pendulum clock features a five-rod gong block and plays a musical tone every quarter hour. I discovered it at an antique shop in Great Village, Nova Scotia (Canada) in 2015. The movement is unmarked, lacking a trademark, but bears the number 50089 on the bottom right of the rear plate. There is no doubt that the movement is original to the case.

Mauhe 3-train movement

This clock runs on a complete eight-day cycle and produces a very pleasant sound. The case features a simple yet attractive design, is in excellent condition, and the movement is clean, having been serviced in 2015.

Mauthe – The Company

Mauthe clocks were produced in Germany by a company with a long and distinguished history, manufacturing thousands of wall, mantel, office, and hall clocks. Founded in 1844 by Friedrich Mauthe and his wife Marie in Schwenningen, Germany, the company initially focused on producing watch parts. By the late 1860s, Mauthe began making its own wall clocks and movements—some produced through the Gewerblern method (a form of cottage industry), while others were made through a more industrial, factory-based approach.

In 1876, the Mauthe sons, Christian and James, took over the business. A decade later, in 1886, the company began manufacturing its own spring mechanisms.

By around 1900, Mauthe offered a wide range of clocks, including alarm clocks, pendulum wall clocks, grandfather clocks, office clocks, and “Buffet Uhren” (buffet clocks). At the time, the company employed around 1,100 people. The third generation of the Mauthe family took control in 1904, with Eugene Schreiber (Christian Mauthe’s son), Dr. Fritz Mauthe, and Alfred Mauthe (sons of Jacob Mauthe) joining the leadership.

In it’s day, it would have displayed in this manner

In 1925, Mauthe introduced a new trademark featuring an eagle with outstretched wings clutching a three-part round plate marked with the letters F, M, and S. By 1930, the company was producing approximately 45,000 clocks per week and employed more than 2,000 people. Around 60% of their production was for export, with England being their primary market.

In the mid-1930s, Mauthe began manufacturing wristwatches, some of which were supplied to the German Army (Wehrmacht). After a brief pause during the war years, Mauthe resumed production in 1946, focusing on wristwatches. The company continued operations through the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, but ultimately declared bankruptcy and closed in 1976.

Why I Sold It

While it’s a lovely clock with a beautiful chime, I ultimately decided to focus on other types, particularly those made in Canada or with a Canadian connection. I also have a soft spot for wall clocks, which now form the core of my collection. I have no regrets; this one went to a good home.

Using Someone’s Photo Is Copyright Infringement

Not long after I sold the clock, I came across another one listed on a local online for-sale site. When I looked closely at the photo in the listing, I realized the seller had used my photograph (the first photo in this article) to advertise his clock—an infringement of copyright. I wrote to him and asked that he take the photo down. He refused, saying, “I found it on the Internet,” implying that anything online is free to use. I explained that I own the photo and my permission is required to use it, and told him that if he didn’t remove it, I would file a complaint with the site administrator. He eventually took it down, but the incident left me wondering how copyright can truly be protected when so many people assume that anything found online is fair game.

And Finally

This Mauthe buffet clock is a fine example of the company’s craftsmanship, combining reliable timekeeping with a pleasing chime. Its well-preserved condition and recent servicing make it a standout piece for its present owner.

How to Safely Remove a Clock Movement from Its Case

If you’re new to clock repair or restoration, one of the first hands-on steps you’ll encounter is removing the movement from its case. This process needs to be done with care to avoid damaging delicate components.

Sessions Beveled #2 mantel clock

Start by taking several clear photos of the clock from all angles—front, back, sides, and inside. These images will be your reference when it’s time to reassemble everything. Next, gently remove the pendulum by unhooking it from the suspension spring or leader. Set it aside somewhere safe.

Removing a movement through the rear access door

I highly recommend using small containers to store any clock parts, screws, or retainers removed during disassembly—there’s no greater frustration in clock repair than losing a tiny screw.

Next, remove the hands. Unscrew the hands nut or remove the brass or steel taper pin holding the minute hand in place. There may also be a brass compression spacer attached to the minute hand. Lift and remove it and the minute hand. The hour hand is friction-fit on the hour pipe; simply pull it off.

The movement is removed from the front after taking off the dial and hands

In some designs, such as those requiring the removal of the movement through a rear access door, lay the clock flat to get better access. As a precautionary measure, it is advisable to remove the glass dial in advance, since placing the clock face down while working on the movement may result in the glass cracking (yes, that has happened to me). If the dial is removed, watch for tiny screws, clips, or pins—and keep track of how it was attached.

If the springs are open and relaxed inside the case, it may be difficult to remove the movement. Wind both mainsprings tightly.

Now locate the movement’s mounting hardware. Most movements are secured with case screws—usually at least four, one at each corner. On some clocks, you must remove the strike block before the movement can be taken out. This block is typically held in place by a large screw on the bottom of the case. In German wall and floor clocks, the movement is often mounted to a seat board and secured with two thumb screws. Simply unscrew the thumb screws and slide the movement forward to remove it.

At this point, you should be able to gently slide or lift the movement out of the case. There are times when the access door is so small that the movement must be carefully maneuvered to remove it.

Once everything is removed and stored properly, you’re ready to inspect the movement for cleaning, bushings, or further repair.

If the clock is spring-driven and still wound, always let the power down using a let-down tool set. However, before doing so, wind the springs, insert a clamp, or wrap a wire around the mainspring to secure it. If the spring is housed in a barrel, letting it down allows the mainspring to relax safely within the barrel. This ensures safety during the removal process and prevents damage from a sudden release of tension.

The movement is removed from the case and is ready for inspection

And now you are ready for the next steps.

Taking it slow and staying organized will save you time (and frustration) later on.

Servcing a Family Heirloom – Refreshing the Clock Case

A German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, likely from the late 1940s, was gifted to my father-in-law—a physician in a small Nova Scotia town—by a grateful secretary, likely in the mid-to-late 1960s. It hung in the family home until 1997 when it was packed away during a move and eventually passed to the user’s brother-in-law. The clock was never displayed again and remained in storage for decades.

Recently, I was asked to restore it. My wife recalls the clock from childhood, confirming its presence in the home for many years. A service sticker inside the door, from “Time Center” in Amherst, Nova Scotia, suggests it was professionally serviced sometime between 1974 and 1996, most likely in the 1980s.

Now, after years of neglect, the clock is due for a full movement cleaning and cosmetic case touch-up.

I’ll cover the case restoration in this article. Surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.

A word about Clock Cases

I’m firmly opposed to stripping and refinishing clock cases for two key reasons. First, it destroys the original patina—a quality many collectors value and appreciate in antique clocks. Second, the finishing techniques used when these clocks were made are nearly impossible to replicate today. As a result, refinishing often produces a sanitized look that lacks the character and authenticity of the original.

Instead, I will begin by cleaning the case and attempting to minimize the nicks and scratches that have accumulated over time through normal use, using a light coat.

Cleaning and touch-ups

The Case

The clock case was cleaned and given two light coats of Minwax wipe-on poly, with a light sanding between applications. For the final polish, 2500-grit sandpaper was used to achieve a smooth finish.

The poly finish helped conceal minor scratches, though some faint marks remain visible upon close inspection.

The glass was thoroughly cleaned, and the brass strips on the door were polished using Brasso.

The spun brass bezel was also polished with Brasso. While there is some minor wear visible on the dial face, I chose to leave it untouched, aside from a gentle cleaning with soap and water, as it is not particularly noticeable from a normal viewing distance.

While I was working on the case, the movement was undergoing testing. It’s now at the end of the first testing phase, and the next step is to reinstall it into the case and continue with testing.

The complete clock

The movement dial is attached to the movement using four pins, one at each corner. Once the dial is in place, the hands are installed—first the hour hand, followed by the minute hand.

Once the dial is mounted on the movement and attached to the seat board, the assembly can be slid into the channels in the case and screwed into place. Under the seat board are two thumbscrews used to secure the movement.

The main challenge was positioning the strike hammers so they rest about 1/8″ from the strike rods. This involved some trial and error, requiring the movement to be removed several times for fine adjustments. The hammer rods are somewhat pliable and can be carefully bent into the correct position.

Finally

This well-traveled Mauthe clock has finally returned to active duty, proudly ticking away once more after decades in storage. With both the case and movement restored, it now stands as a meaningful family heirloom and a fine example of mid-century German craftsmanship.

Servicing a Family Heirloom – A Sentimental Journey

Many years ago, my father-in-law received a gift from his secretary. As a physician in a small town in Nova Scotia, it was once common practice to accept small tokens of appreciation from fellow employees. The gift was a German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, often referred to today as a “box clock” and made sometime in the late 1940s.

It hung on the wall in my in-laws’ home until 1997, when they moved to a smaller house in the same town to downsize. The clock was packed away and never rehung in their new home. Instead, my brother-in-law took it to his home, about three hours away, presumably intending to display it. However, it remained in storage and was never hung.

Mauthe time and strike box clock
Mauthe time and strike box clock

Recently, he asked if I could service the movement and restore the clock, and I gladly agreed.

My wife remembers the clock from her childhood, recalling it from when she was a young girl. This suggests it was gifted in the mid-to-late 1960s. Her father proudly hung the clock in the family home, and I remember his weekly ritual of winding it.

It was evidently serviced at least once. Inside the clock’s door, there is a sticker from a clockmaker in Amherst, identifying the repairer as Time Center, 5 Westminster Ave, Amherst. However, an online search yielded no information about this business. The sticker includes a Canadian postal code, which indicates that the clock was serviced after 1974, when postal codes were introduced in Nova Scotia. This means the servicing took place sometime between 1974 and 1996, though I cannot pinpoint the exact year. It likely would have been serviced in the 1980s.

A jewelry shop in Amherst, Nova Scotia, circa 1940s

After many years stored, it is long overdue for a cleaning. The plan is to service the movement and touch up a tired case.

Servicing the Movement

Before taking the clock apart, I wanted to see if it still worked. I removed the movement, oiled the pivots, and then placed the movement back into the case. I hung the clock on the wall in my office, wound it, attached the pendulum, and gave it a push. To my surprise, it ran for a while—despite having been in storage for years. Running the clock also reassured me that I likely wouldn’t encounter any significant mechanical issues.

The front plate is removed to show the two trains

However, the only way to confirm any wear for certain would be to disassemble the movement, which I proceeded to do.

Second wheels with robust Leaf pinions

I disassembled the movement, put all the parts in an ultrasonic cleaner, dried the parts after the cleaning, pegged the pivot holes, polished the pivots, and now checked for wear. I generally assemble the trains separately with the strike side first, since often it is the greater source of wear. I then move to the time side.

The movement looked to be in very good condition overall, though I noticed some wear in six of the pivot holes. The most worn appeared to be the third wheel on the backplate (or star wheel), and the second wheel on the time side backplate. In the end, I installed only two bushings—those pivot holes were in the worst condition.

This is a family clock, and I doubt it will see daily use; it’s more likely to serve as a decorative piece. If I were doing this as a professional repair, I would have addressed all signs of wear, which in this case might have meant installing up to six bushings.

Springs barrels with partially exposed mainsprings

I’m also donating my time to this project, so if the clock stops after a couple of years, I’d have no problem servicing it again.

The mainsprings were serviced by removing them from their barrels, thoroughly cleaning them, and then applying fresh oil. The barrels and their caps were also cleaned to remove any residual oil and were placed in the ultrasonic cleaner for a deep clean.

Mauthe clock dial

Reassembly

Transitioning from a typical American antique clock movement to a German one is a significant step, primarily because you’re dealing with much smaller pivots, which greatly increases the risk of bending or breaking them. Those who have replaced pivots before know how challenging the process can be—and that it requires specialized equipment, such as a metal lathe. This is a case where it’s essential to resist the urge to force the pivots into their respective holes and instead exercise a great deal of patience.

A pivot locator is an essential tool that every clock repair person should have in their toolbox.

Pivot locator

Assembling the movement begins with inserting the mainspring barrels onto the backplate. The third wheel on the time side is positioned between the barrels, which means the barrels go in first, then the third wheel and the three-wing retaining spring on the top are then secured in place. After that, all the other gears and put in place.

Once everything is where it should be, the front plate is positioned and secured in place by the two movement nuts on the barrel end, which helps prevent the plates from separating while aligning the pivots up the trains into their respective holes. On the strike side, I generally leave the fly and stop wheel out until the very last moment.

The escapement is worked in through the opening on the front plate after the movement is assembled and the two screws for the suspension spring bridge secure the escapement in place. Once they are in place, it is time to work on the front plate by installing the levers, the rack, and the snail.

This movement has four strike hammers. It produces its distinctive bim-bam sound by having one hammer strike the outermost rod, while the other three simultaneously strike the remaining rods. The arrangement involves a paddle and “L” rod system (one hammer on the paddle and three on the “L” rod), and both must be positioned between two points of the star wheel.

“L” rod and paddle in the centre of the photo

If not, one or the other may get caught on a star point and stop the strike. Sometimes, I’m successful on the first try; otherwise, I must open the plates and reposition the star wheel. In this case, I got it right the first time.

The only other adjustment to be mindful of is ensuring that the pin on the warning wheel—the uppermost gear on the strike side—is positioned roughly at the 12 o’clock mark. This ensures that the wheel spins enough to properly set up the warning.

Testing

I take a cautious step-by-step approach during the testing phase. I wind the time side first, observe the movement and the action of the escapement, and make any necessary adjustments to ensure that once the movement is level, the escapement is in beat. I then run it for 24 hours.

Once I’m satisfied that the time side will run reliably, I shift my focus to the strike side. I check the movement, ensure there aren’t any obvious obstructions, wind the strike side mainspring, and observe its action, taking care to note the position of the lever on the snail to ensure that all 12 hours strike properly. I did have to make one small correction. I adjusted the snail by removing it, repositioning it one cog to the left, and reinserting it to ensure it aligned properly with the flat sections.

I typically test for about 2 weeks or 2 eight-day cycles before I reinstall it into the case. Once in the case, I resumed testing for another two cycles.

Summary

I’ll cover the case restoration in a separate article. Notably, surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.

This project is particularly rewarding because it’s a family clock. It has been in the family for nearly 60 years and was a source of pride for my father-in-law. Were he still with us, I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that it’s being carefully restored to its original condition.

Tick Talk Tuesday | Jauch Clocks of Germany

I generally do not reveal the names of those who write to me when sharing their comments. I attempted to reach out to the author, but after several months without a response, I believe quoting their letter does not breach confidence, especially as I have also safeguarded their location.

It’s a sincere message, so here it is.

“I Just stumbled across your article. Theodor Jauch’s company was my grandfather’s. It was located in Deisslingen (not Schwenningen which is a nearby larger town). I grew up in Ireland, but as a boy, we visited my grandfather regularly, he lived in an apartment at one end of the U shaped factory building, to reach it one walked down a corridor with about 3 offices on each side, each with what seemed like 100 clocks in it, each chiming at different times.

Jauch wall clock
An example of a Jauch clock, a time and strike wall clock

After my grandfather’s death, it passed to my father and his older brother, soon thereafter as far as I know it was wholly owned by his brother when the estate was settled, but went bankrupt within several years (1976). I do know from my father, that while some clocks were sold in the USA, far more clock mechanisms were sold to US companies who put them into their own housing designs. I do of course have one of the wall clocks, with the 2 weights, on my living room wall (and recently brought another one from a family member in Germany, back to another family member in USA.”

A time-only calendar schoolhouse clock

Thank you so much for reaching out and sharing such a personal and fascinating glimpse into your family’s history. I’m particularly intrigued by the vivid image of the factory building and the offices filled with clocks striking/chiming at different times—it must have been such a unique experience for a young boy to witness. 

It’s also interesting to learn that Deisslingen, rather than Schwenningen, was the true home of the company. These details help paint a fuller picture of Jauch’s history, and I deeply appreciate you taking the time to share them.

The insight about clock movements being sold to U.S. companies aligns with the approach of many clock manufacturers of that era. This was a common practice. 

It’s wonderful to hear that you’ve preserved a piece of this legacy with one of Jauch’s wall clocks on your living room wall, The connection to these clocks clearly goes beyond just their functionality—they’re a tangible link to your family’s story.

Thank you again for taking the time to share your memories. It’s been a privilege to hear your perspective, and I hope we can continue this conversation.

Reflections on a Year of Clock Collecting and Less Time Repairing

As we enter a new year it is time to look back on the adventures and milestones I’ve experienced in the world of antique and vintage clock collecting and repair in the past year. 2024 has been one of discovery, growth, and deepening appreciation for the art of horology.

Over the past year, I have been shifting the focus of my collection. While I have acquired clocks from various countries, my interest has increasingly centered on Canadian clocks and those with a Canadian connection. This focus is evident in my acquisitions of the following clocks this year.

Adding to the Collection

My collection of Arthur Pequegnat clocks grew significantly this year with the addition of some standout pieces.

Arthur Pequegnat Hamilton Tall

The Dandy and Hamilton Tall models were particular highlights, each offering unique insights into the craftsmanship and history of the Pequegnat Clock Company.

Arthur Pequegnat Dandy

I also came across a rare find — a 30-hour Ogee clock by the Canada Clock Co., a true testament to Canadian clockmaking heritage. An interesting feature of this clock is the faux grain finish on the wood case, which was evidently a cost-saving measure by the company to make their prices competitive with American manufacturers at the time.

Canada Clock Co. Ogee

One of my most memorable acquisitions was an Arthur Pequegnat Simcoe clock (not pictured), purchased in 2018 from a shop in Victoria, British Columbia, for close to $200. This year, I added the Jewel model to my collection after spotting it on a high shelf at a local antique shop. Its price was surprisingly modest, coming in at less than a quarter the cost of the Simcoe making the find all the more satisfying. The addition of legs and side handles distinguishes it from the Simcoe.

Arthur Pequegnat Jewel

My most interesting acquisition was not a Canadian clock but a German-made Kienzle wall clock, which was given to me by a gentleman in Ontario (Canada).

Kienzle time and strike wall clock

The clock had been passed down from his grandfather, and the seller hoped to find someone who would truly appreciate it. He contacted me for advice and asked about its value. I offered some insights and mentioned that if he was unable to sell it, I would be happy to take it off his hands. Honestly, I never expected to hear back from him after that.

Several months later, he reached out to tell me that he would be gifting it to me. We arranged a hand-off in a small village in Quebec, and it has since become part of my collection. It is a handsome clock with a resonant two-tone strike that is one of the most “complete” clocks in my collection (for more on this clock go here).

Repairing and Restoring

In 2024, I spent less time repairing and servicing clock movements, instead focusing on my blog, researching clocks and clock companies and their histories, and maintaining my collection.

On the repair front, I tackled several challenging yet rewarding projects, including a Seth Thomas Type 89 time and strike and a HAC/HAU time and strike movement. These were standard servicing tasks that presented minimal issues.

Generally, my servicing philosophy is to avoid replacing original components as much as possible but I always test and ensure they meet the clock’s functional requirements. This year reinforced my belief that preserving original parts is vital to maintaining a clock’s authenticity.

HAC (Hamburg American Clock Co.) movement with plate removed

Among the repairs waiting their turn is the Danby model by Arthur Pequegnat which has been placed on the back burner due to other priorities. With three other movements to finish first, the servicing of those clocks plus the Danby will be projects for later in 2025.

Mauthe wall clock

Another project I’ll be tackling in 2025 is a family clock. This past year, I received my father-in-law’s clock for repair. It was passed down to my wife’s brother and has been out of service for over 25 years. I plan to return it fully serviced, and I hope that this stately Mauthe wall clock will take a prominent place in my brother-in-law’s home as a sentimental reminder of my wife’s father.

Sharing the Passion

This year celebrates seven years of blogging about clock collecting, repairs, and restoration. My blog has become a platform to share knowledge and stories, blending my love of writing, photography, and horology. Though I took a break for the holiday season, I look forward to returning this year with fresh content and inspiration.

One of the goals of this blog is to introduce antique and vintage clocks to younger generations and inspire an appreciation for these remarkable mechanical devices from the past. In today’s modern age of a throw-away culture, how many items can you think of that still function flawlessly after more than a century? It is a short list indeed!

A Special Milestone

In 2025, I will celebrate the remarkable milestone of reaching 1 million views, and I’ll be publishing a special article to mark the occasion. This achievement highlights the significant impact and reach of my content, demonstrating that my blog has resonated with a broad audience and built a dedicated following over time. Reaching this level of engagement is a testament to the value and quality of the information I share, making it an incredibly rewarding accomplishment as a creator.

A Broader Perspective

My collecting journey has always been intertwined with a sense of history and nostalgia. Yet, I’ve also faced the reality that interest in antique clocks is waning among younger generations. While my children may not share my passion, I find joy in preserving my clocks for future collectors or enthusiasts who might rediscover their charm. I hope that a younger generation will emerge and find value in collecting these old treasures.

My tastes and collecting habits are evolving, and I am increasingly focusing on Canadian-made clocks or those with a significant Canadian connection. This year, I may sell some of my more common clocks, which will reduce my collection to a more manageable size while still preserving my collection of 15 Canadian-made clocks.

Looking Ahead

As the New Year is upon us, I’m excited about the possibilities. My trip to the UK in 2024 provided opportunities to explore horological treasures, visit museums, and reconnect with my British heritage. Whether acquiring new clocks or deepening my understanding of their history, I’m eager to see where future journeys take me.

To all fellow enthusiasts and readers of my blog: thank you for your support and shared passion for these timeless pieces of history. Here’s to another year of celebrating the art and craft of clocks!

War Souvenirs | How One Clock Made Its Way Back to France

This fall, my wife and I embarked on a battlefield tour of northern France and Belgium. The weather was remarkably good for November in Europe—though mostly cloudy, we were fortunate to avoid any rain. Instead of joining an organized tour, we followed a personalized itinerary thoughtfully put together by our son, inspired by his own visit to France a few years ago.

Vimy war memorial, France
Vimy Ridge memorial

The highlight of our trip was visiting the Vimy Ridge Memorial near Arras, France. The Battle of Vimy Ridge, a key part of the larger Battle of Arras, saw the four divisions of the Canadian Corps facing three German divisions.

This battle has become a powerful symbol of Canadian sacrifice and national achievement. Standing at the memorial, we were deeply moved as we reflected on the immense loss of life—nearly 3,600 soldiers killed and over 7,000 wounded.

Vimy memorial site showing trench and bomb craters
Bomb craters mark the 250-acre Vimy site

We visited many Great War sites and wandered through the graveyards of the fallen, trying to comprehend the unimaginable horrors of the conflict.

Rampart cemetery, Ypres, Belgium
Rampart Cemetery in Ypres

One particularly poignant stop was the In Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres, Belgium—a remarkable institution dedicated to preserving and studying the history of the First World War.

In Flanders Fieldss war museum, Belgium

The museum is named after the famous poem by Canadian George MaCrae written on December 8, 1915.

a poem by George Macrae, Candina solder in world war one
George MaCrae

The exhibit tells the story of the invasion of Belgium, the first months of the mobilization, and the four years of unimaginable trench warfare.

Ypres city hall and site of In Flanders Fields Museum
The impressive Ypres (Leper, Yper)city hall was faithfully reconstructed after the war and is where the museum is situated

The personal stories of how the First World War affected the lives of individuals of many nationalities are told through the many objects on display. One such object is a time-only French slate clock.

French time-only slate clock
French slate clock

During wartime, soldiers often collected souvenirs as tangible reminders of their experiences, victories, or the places they visited. These items carried emotional, historical, or symbolic value and provided a personal connection to their time in service. Soldiers often found helmets, badges, bayonets, or weapons taken from the battlefield that, to them, symbolized triumph or survival.

These keepsakes not only held personal significance but also allowed soldiers to share their experiences with loved ones upon their return.

One fascinating example is Corporal G. Driver of England, who managed to bring home a French slate clock—an object that would have been notably heavy and cumbersome. How he transported it to England intact remains a mystery. Upon closer inspection, the clock reveals its journey through time, with nicks, scratches, cracks, and remnants of what appears to have been a floral design at its base.

The clock was discovered in a local church that had been devastated during the bombing of Ypres by the advancing German forces.

After Corporal Driver passed on, the family held onto the clock for a period but decided in 2005 to return it to Belgium where it now sits on display at the In Flanders Museum.

What moved us most were the deeply personal stories of the soldiers who fought in the Great War—their courage, resilience, and ultimate sacrifice. Their selflessness ensured that future generations, including all of us today, could live in freedom. These poignant tales of humanity and heroism left an indelible mark on us.

Hamburg Amerikanische Uhrenfabrik | Servicing an 8-day Countwheel Strike Movement – Part II

I am currently working on a mantel clock from the Hamburg American Clock Company. This is Part II in a two-part series. For Part I go here.

The Hamburg American Clock Company is otherwise known as Hamburg Amerikanische Uhrenfabrik or HAU and in many parts of the world, it is simply known as HAC.

HAC mantel clock circa 1926

In Part I, I described the steps taken so far which are disassembly, inspection, cleaning of the parts, and polishing of all pivots. The next steps are bushing work, reassembly, oiling (the mainsprings were oiled in a previous step), and finally, testing.

I believe this is the No. 36 movement by HAC.

HAC clock movement
HAC clock movement #36

The wheels that spin the fastest typically show the most bushing wear, but wear can also appear in other areas, such as the main wheels, which endure significant torque. For instance, I observed punch marks on the cap side of each mainspring barrel. While punching around any bushing hole is generally poor practice, it appears this was done at some point in the clock’s history and can’t be reversed. Nonetheless, the repair seems to have held up well.

Bushing Work

I have seen similar movements with much more wear than this one, but I felt that some bushing work was necessary to extend the clock’s lifespan.

Bergeon Bushing Machine
Bergeon Bushing Machine

Six Bergeon brass bushings were installed in total. For the time side (T), bushings were placed at T1 (front and back) and T3 (back). For the strike side (S), bushings were installed at S3 (back), S2 (front), and S4 (front). The numbers indicate the wheel location in the train beginning from the bottom. A couple of pivot holes were borderline, but I decided to leave them as they are.

Reassembly

It pays to be patient and methodical during reassembly. Rushing can lead to mistakes, such as missing steps or improperly aligning parts, which could cause malfunctions or even damage later. Taking the time to carefully double-check the placement of parts, and ensure everything is in its correct place will help ensure the reassembly is smooth and successful.

An older HAC movement, without the barrel cutouts

Once the wheels are in place the lever and there is only one multi-arm ever that resides between the plates. Position it such that the long arm rests in one of the deep slots of the count wheel while a short arm is placed in the cut out of the cam wheel (as above).

Positioning the pivots is a delicate process, and any forceful handling can result in a bent or broken pivot. In this, as in all cases when aligning pivots, a pivot locator is your best tool.

Pivot locator

My usual practice is to position all the wheels and the lever(s) on the plate with the movement posts, first. Once the wheels are correctly located, I lower the front plate onto the back plate. I secure two nuts to the mainspring end which prevents the movement plates from coming apart as I position the upper wheels in the train.

The pin-wheel, which is uppermost and one wheel removed from the fly on the strike side, is placed in approximately the 12 o’clock position, the warning position. At the same time the hammer paddle is positioned between two of the points on the star wheel. More than once I have had to go back in to make minor adjustments when the paddle hangs up on one of the star points. It looks like this one is also a candidate for that very adjustment.

A Timetrax machine is used to adjust the beat and the rate of the movement.

The movement has been placed on a test stand and the time side Is in beat and running as it should according to my Timetrax machine. Curiously, the Timetrax manual lists only one HAU/HAC movement, a three-train one but this one is likely similar to Junghans bracket clock movements which runs at 164 bpm. Junghans is mentioned for comparison because, by 1930, the company had successfully taken full control of HAC.

Testing

The testing phase is crucial in the process of servicing a clock, often taking the most time because it ensures that the clock is functioning properly before it is reunited with its case.

On the test stand

During this phase, the clock is put through various operational checks to simulate real-time performance, which helps in identifying any issues that may not have been apparent during the initial servicing or cleaning process. Issues such over-tightened or loose components can present themselves as well as problems with the escapement mechanism.

The testing phase serves as an important diagnostic step to identify what further repairs or adjustments may be needed.

This concludes the servicing of an 8-day HAU/HAC movement. If you have any comments or feedback on any of the steps in the process, please feel free to share!

How to Determine the Age of an Antique Clock: Strategies and Tips

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 Ly is 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.

Optimizing Care for a Vintage Mauthe Clock: Inspection and Oiling

It’s time to inspect the movement on this mid-thirties German box clock. Purchased at an antique mall in Peterborough, Ontario, in May of 2017, it was serviced in 2020.

Mauthe time and strike box clock

This clock is part of a small collection at our family cottage and runs for about three months each year. However, the cottage environment can be harsh. Before we converted the screened-in porch to an enclosed sunroom, the clock was exposed to the elements for three years, so I expect some dust, dirt, and debris.

Mauthe movement back plate
Mauthe movement back-plate

One hint tells me this clock is made by Mauthe of Germany, even though there is no trademark stamp on the movement plates. The gong block is made by Divina, a subsidiary parts maker for Mauthe.

In the 1930s and 1940s, the clock was sold in Canada under the Forestville or Solar name in department stores from coast to coast. An appliqué of a maple leaf on the crown of the case suggests it was made for the Canadian market.

Divina gong block

Removing the movement

Removing the movement from its case is a relatively simple procedure. Open the front door and release the two thumbscrews under the movement seatboard, then slide the movement forward from its side channels.

Both plates are a robust 1.8 mm brass. The backplate is solid while the front plate is open. It is a robust movement that was evidently designed to last.

Removing the movement from the case is the best way to check the condition of the movement. Once out all you see is the back plate with the dial concealing the front of the movement. To inspect the front of the movement, the dial and hands must be removed. The hands come off easily by pulling the center cannon pin that attaches the minute hand. The hour hand is a friction fit and can be pulled out with minimal effort. Remove four brass pins on pillars to detach the face from the movement.

Once the dial face is detached both the front and back of the movement can be inspected.

Movement with attached seatboard

There is also no need to remove the seatboard to inspect the movement.

Of course, the only true measure of the condition of any movement is to take it apart, but in this case, I saw no need.

The clock has been working well, keeping good time and striking as it should.

What to look for

I always look for dirty oil around the pivots, which indicates possible wear. As oil ages, it gradually interacts with worn brass, creating a black abrasive paste. Here the pivots looked good but I did notice that some bearings had dried up. While at it I inspected the barrels for bulges and cracks, finding none. The lantern pinions, gear teeth, and levers looked clean. The suspension spring also looked good. In fact, I saw nothing that would cause me to take the next step: disassembly.

The movement is in excellent condition and will need no attention since its last servicing in 2020.

Oiling

All that is required is an oiling before it is returned to the case. Periodic inspections ensure that the oil is clean and appropriately applied, preventing friction and wear. In this case, the oil was clean but some pivots required additional oil.

Oil and applicator which has a spooned end

I keep it simple as far as my oiler and dipper container are concerned.

Periodic inspections

Periodically inspecting a mechanical clock movement is important. Regular inspections can identify potential issues before they become serious problems, helping to prevent major repairs or damage.

Over time, the movement parts can wear down, and identifying and addressing wear ensures the clock runs smoothly.

Dust, dirt, and other debris can accumulate in the movement, affecting performance. Regular inspections {and disassembly and cleaning if needed} can keep the clock running accurately.

Clocks exposed to varying environmental conditions, such as humidity or temperature changes at our cottage, may require more frequent inspections to prevent damage. My fears that this movement was dirty because it was in a harsh environment proved unfounded.

Mauthe movement front plate
Mauthe movement front plate

If the clock starts losing or gaining time, an inspection can identify the cause and allow for adjustments. Inspecting the movement helps to ensure that all components, such as springs and gears, are in good condition and properly aligned.

Finally, by addressing these aspects through regular inspections, you can extend the life of your mechanical clock and ensure it continues to function properly.

1930 Kienzle Box Clock | A Heartfelt Gift and Memorable Encounter

Occasionally I have clocks gifted to me as in the case of this lovely Art Deco-style German round-top wall clock made by Kienzle. The gift was greatly appreciated, although there was a small condition attached, which I will explain later.

Kienzle box clock in classic oak

There are times when people consider gifting me a clock but hesitate because of the high shipping expenses. When I tell them I’m willing to accept the clock, they often balk upon discovering how much it would cost to send it to me. Consequently, I have missed out on some interesting clocks due to shipping constraints.

Earlier this year, DN from central Canada was researching his grandfather’s vintage clock online and found a similar one, which led him to my blog. We exchanged emails about the history and condition of his grandfather’s clock and he asked about its resale potential. Based on the current market, I provided him with an estimated value.

I suggested several methods for selling the clock and offered to consider purchasing it myself if he could not find a buyer. Unaware that I would hear from DN again, it was four months later when he reached out and offered to gift me the clock, confident it would be cherished by a collector like myself. The condition was that I make a donation to a charity.

A well-protected clock

While traveling to central Canada to spend the summer, I had the opportunity to meet DN. With military precision, we arranged to meet in a small village 1/2 hour from our summer cottage. The well-packaged clock went from one car to the next. Afterward, we talked on the roadside, discussing the clock and, of course, sharing our cottage experiences. I said my thanks and drove off.

I know more about this clock than almost anything in my collection thanks to DN and the well-preserved clock owned by his grandfather and carefully stored for approximately 25 years following his passing. DN‘s grandfather, an engineer, appreciated the intricacy of the German-made clock and kept all the documentation. Nothing is missing from the clock; all the parts are intact.

Raised relief applique

There is a “certificate of guarantee” from the Franco-American Supply Co. with a purchase date of May 18, 1930. The Franco-American Clock Co. became the Franco-American Supply Co. in 1918/1919. Their business eventually expanded to musical instruments, including gramophones. They operated as a distributor rather than a manufacturer, specializing in supplying clocks at a mid-level scale to retailers.

Franco-American Supply Co.

In addition, there is a factory control slip and instructions for the gong protector. There are two stand-offs (upper right, photo below), but I could not find the screw holes in the back of the case to accommodate them. Perhaps they were offered as optional at the time, otherwise, why were they kept? And of course, the original key.

It is rare to buy a clock with any documentation

Overall, it is in exceptional condition for a 96-year-old clock. I could not see any tell-tale signs that the movement had been worked on, and in its assembled state, I did not observe any appreciable wear. Of course, once disassembled and cleaned, I will have a clearer understanding of any wear issues.

My immediate task is to determine if the clock can run and strike as it should. I removed the movement from its case, applied a drop of oil to the pivots, reinstalled the movement, and gave the pendulum a push. It runs well. Next, I will prioritize thorough cleaning and attend to any signs of wear.

Finally, I am making my donation to the St. Vincent de Paul Society in memory of my mother-in-law, who passed away this spring. The Society of Saint Vincent de Paul is a lay “Catholic organization whose mission is to help shape a more just and compassionate society by providing food assistance, material help for the needy, emergency relief, and addressing housing challenges across Canada”.

German Box Clock Restoration | A Family Heirloom

When my wife’s parents sold their home in a small town in Nova Scotia in 1996, they passed on a wall clock, which had been given to my father-in-law by a patient and had hung on the wall in the main hallway of their home, to his son, my wife’s brother. It has been in storage ever since then.

I hadn’t seen the clock in nearly 30 years though I have vivid memories. In the 1980s and 1990s, my wife and I would bring the kids to visit their grandparents on weekends. The clock would resonate throughout the house. It was unforgettable, by its loud ticking and the four-hammer strike marking the hour and half-hour.

Made by Mauthe, it is a 1930s-style German box clock, dark in color, reminiscent of one in my own collection. In fact, except for minor details on the case, it’s almost identical to mine.

German "box" clock by Mauthe
German “box” clock by Mauthe, in my collection

My father-in-law loved the clock and had it for years, winding it without fail once a week. When it stopped, he would have someone local service it for him. He cherished it deeply, though I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps, as a doctor, he valued it as a thank-you gift from one of his patients, or maybe he simply had a passion for clocks.

Sadly, my father-in-law passed away in 2012, and my mother-in-law passed away this year. While settling the estate, my wife and her brother started communicating on a deeper level, and the subject of the clock came up. Would I fix it?

Mauthe movement back plate
Not this clock but a similar Mauthe movement

The clock has now been passed to me for repair. I picked it up in mid-June, and my first impression was that the case was in excellent shape for its age. While the case has minor nicks and scratches that can be easily addressed, the dial is rough. Otherwise, the movement appears intact with no missing or damaged parts.

Overall, I believe the clock is definitely worth restoring. Once I evaluate the clock further I can determine what needs to be done, make any necessary repairs to the movement, and the case, test the movement, and return it to my wife’s brother. To have it displayed prominently on a wall and running again would be a testament to my father-in-law’s memory.

Although I have other projects on the go and cannot tackle this project until the fall, I am pretty excited about working on this clock. It is a perfect candidate for restoration but more importantly, it has great sentimental value.

In future posts, I will describe a step-by-step process of revitalizing the case and another on servicing the movement.

Tick Talk Tuesday #53 – A stolen Ansonia wall clock

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.


Photo of Ansonia wall 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.

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