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.
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.
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 screwson 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.
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 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
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.
In the winter of 2017, I took on the restoration of a Junghans Crispi wall clock, made in Schwenningen, Germany. Built in the Vienna Regulator style, the clock came to me as a box of parts—an exciting challenge, especially once I learned of its remarkable history.
This clock survived the Halifax Explosion on December 6, 1917. I discovered it through an online listing and was immediately intrigued. While I wasn’t sure at first how far I’d go, I soon committed to restoring it to its full 19th-century glory.
Most of the clock is original: the movement, pendulum, coil gong, case crown, backboard, columns, and decorative trim. The front frame had been rebuilt about 30 years ago using modern materials. Though not fully authentic, the work was done with care and is largely hidden. I had no issue keeping it intact.
To complete the restoration, I replaced two small decorative trim pieces using birch and my vintage router, matching the originals as closely as possible. The result blended in beautifully.
The design reflects a time of grand ornamentation and eclectic influence, not its place of manufacture.
Was the effort worth it? Absolutely. The clock is now fully restored and running beautifully. Its resonant chime fills the house, and its unique presence always draws attention. More than a timepiece, it’s a piece of history and a cherished family heirloom.
When was the Clock Made?
I always wanted to determine the exact date of the clock, and when I first received it, I guessed it was made around 1900. While on the NAWCC forum site, someone posted an image from a Junghans catalog and suggested the clock was made in 1899. That seemed plausible, and I was satisfied it was made then.
1893 catalog1894 catalog1898 catalog
More recently, while browsing the historical index on the Junghans website, I discovered catalog images dating as far back as 1893, with listings for 1893, 1894, and 1898. It appears the clock was last produced in 1898.
There are subtle design differences between the 1893 and 1898 versions. The 1898 model features simpler clock hands, a beat plate, and longer crown finials. The pendulum design is also slightly different. Otherwise, the two versions look nearly identical. Based on these design changes, I believe my clock was made in either 1897 or 1898.
Final Thoughts
Researching your clock is one of the most rewarding parts of restoration. It deepens your connection to the clock and often uncovers fascinating history you might otherwise miss. In my case, exploring online forums and archival catalogs helped me more accurately date the Junghans Crispi and appreciate its evolving design. Manufacturer archives, collector communities, and historical indexes are invaluable tools; don’t overlook them. Every clock has a story, and with a bit of digging, you might be surprised by what you find.
Back in 2017, I took on the restoration of a Junghans Crispi wall clock—a project that began with enthusiasm but has since tested my patience more than once. While the case restoration went smoothly, the movement has been another story. Despite professional servicing, bushing work, and later my own repair attempts, the strike side has never been entirely reliable.
Junghans Crispi wall clock, circa 1899
Over the years, the clock ran well for a while, then faltered, especially in the strike train. A broken lever spring, a bent arbor, erratic striking, and a few close calls with delicate repairs have all played a part. In late 2024, the clock began stalling just before the warning phase, prompting me to extract the movement from its case to determine the cause of the stoppage.
Now, in Spring 2025, I’ve returned to the movement with a fresh perspective. The time side still runs fine, but the strike side remains unreliable. Based on my experience with similar movements, I suspect a combination of issues: a weak strike mainspring, one or more bent pivots, and poor alignment between the paddle and star wheel.
Junghans movement with the rear plate removed
In this post, I’ll walk through the next phase of troubleshooting—cleaning the movement, inspecting the spring, inspecting pivots, and adjusting the star wheel—to see if this clock, stubborn as it is, can finally be brought into reliable service.
Junghans movement showing hammer and suspension components
The first part of this two-part series can be found here.
Minor issues, But Nothing Too Troubling
After having disassembled the movement, cleaning it thoroughly, and inspecting for pivot and bushing wear as well as the possibility of a broken lever spring and a bent pivot, I am now satisfied that there is nothing mechanically wrong with the movement.
I assembled it and ran the time side for several days. The time train ran smoothly. I then wound the strike side and discovered two issues. One, the stop wheel was not in the correct position. For warning to take place, it should rotate about half a turn, which will set up the strike. The locking pin should be in the 10 to 12 o’clock position. The photo below shows it in the 2 o’clock position.
The locking pin is at the 2 o’clock position when it should be between the 10 and 12 o’clock positions
To make this adjustment, there is no need to take the movement apart; simply loosen the movement nut nearest the fan as well as slightly loosen the nut on the time side. Of course, if in the process of testing the strike side, it is important to double-check that both mainsprings are let down before opening up the plate. Once the fly and the locking wheel are free, they can be positioned correctly. The locking point is also determined by the cam, and the lever must be in its slot while the adjustments are taking place.
The Strike Hammer Tail
The other issue is the strike hammer tail.
Once reassembled, I also discovered that the hammer tail was resting on one of the star points. At rest, the strike paddle must sit between two star points. When the hammer tail rests on a star point, it impedes the action of the strike train. The hammer tail must be clear of the lifting star at the end of each strike sequence.
Hammer tail is resting on one of the stars of the star wheel, the lever spring on the hammer arbour is shown
I believe I have found the problem with the strike side. However, there are two more adjustments that are needed before I put the movement on a test stand. One, the hammer lever spring is not providing any tension. I know that if I risk bending it, it will snap, but I will take that chance. I have repaired lever springs in the past, and it should be an easy fix if I break it. The other issue is a loose click on the strike side, which will require completely disassembling the movement to access the rivet from the inside. Once these two items are attended to, I can test the movement.
It’s still a work in progress, but I feel I’m very close to achieving a successful resolution to issues regarding the movement.
I have never been completely happy with how the movement runs in this Junghans Crispi wall clock. When I got the clock in 2017, I jumped right into restoring the case because it was an interesting challenge to put the clock together from a bunch of parts.
Junghans wall clock, circa 1899, model – Crispi
Now, eight years later, the clock continues to disappoint. The case remains in great shape, but the movement has been a consistent letdown.
Movement as found, about as dirty as it gets
Let’s take a step back in time.
Winter2017
After completing the work on the case, I turned my attention to the movement. During the disassembly and reassembly process, I accidentally broke not only the strike paddle but also a retention spring. In 2017, my skills weren’t advanced enough to repair the paddle and retaining spring myself, so I had the movement professionally serviced.
Broken strike paddle
During its 2017 service, the paddle was repaired and a new spring was installed. In addition, the movement had received extensive bushing work: six bushings on the front plate and six on the rear.
Three months later, I picked up the clock and hung it on my dining room wall. It ran perfectly for over two and a half years.
Spring2020
For some undetermined reason, the strike became erratic—it would strike incorrectly, fail to strike at all or strike incessantly until the mainspring ran down.
I had a number of other clock projects on the go so I kept the time side going and left it on the wall until later that year.
December 2020
In December, I disassembled the movement and discovered a slightly bent arbor on the strike side cam wheel. All other pivots were straight, and there were no noticeably worn pivot holes—everything else appeared to be in good condition.
I did notice a small amount of dirty oil around many of the pivots. While I was initially a bit surprised, it’s not entirely unusual after more than two years of regular operation.
Unfortunately, disaster struck again. While manipulating the plates, I snapped the paddle arbor retention spring—again! This time, however, I was able to repair it myself.
There was just enough of the original spring left to reuse. The wire is very thin (0.5 mm), extremely brittle, and breaks easily under even light pressure. Using a micro drill with a 0.5 mm HSS bit, I carefully enlarged the existing hole in the plate, reinstalled the spring, and secured it with Threadlocker Red to bond it firmly in place.
The movement was reassembled and tested. After the testing period the movement was returned to its case and ran well until about 6 months ago.
Fall 2024
While the time side was running well, the erratic striking returned, and after a few weeks, the clock began stopping just before the warning phase. I wound both the time and strike sides again to replicate the problem, and each time it stopped at the warning point. Feeling frustrated, I left the clock on the wall, wound only the time side, and still it stopped. Since I had other projects to tend to, I decided to leave this one on the back burner for a while.
The movement on a test stand
Spring 2025
Since I was free of immediate projects, I removed the movement from its case and placed it on the test stand. As expected, the time side ran fine. It was serviced not so long ago. For the last couple of months, however, it has been striking erratically or not at all. It enters warning without issue, but seems to almost stall during the striking process. I want to address this issue, but I also want to disassemble the movement to clean up both the pivots and the bushing holes, as the oil is dirtier than I expected.
Judging from similar movements I’ve worked on, I believe there are three issues at play:
A power issue, which suggests the mainspring is weak.
One or more bent pivots, preventing the wheels from turning freely.
The paddle is not correctly positioned in relation to the star wheel. The hammer begins lifting immediately at the drop-off, which stalls the strike train. Once it gets going again, the hammer lifts easily and quickly. I’ll try repositioning the star wheel to allow more run time before the hammer paddle is engaged.
The first issue means replacing the strike-side mainspring. The second issue involves manipulating pivots. There is always a risk of breaking a pivot when attempting to straighten it, not a pleasant experience, as re-pivoting is necessary.
Check back later for an update on what I discovered—which of the three issues turned out to be the culprit, and whether I was finally able to fix a clock that, at times, seems determined not to be fixed.
My sister, who’s just a couple of years younger and was once an avid collector of antiques, recently shared something that’s been weighing on my mind. She told me that she’s stopped collecting, something I never thought I’d hear from her. “There’s no one to leave them to, no one who will appreciate them,” she said. “I have this beautiful sterling silver collection, and my son will probably just melt it down and sell it for cash when I’m gone.” Her words stung. I tried to tell her that was harsh, but she insisted that’s how it would end.
If I were younger!
I have started to feel the same. It seems the current generation is far less interested in preserving the past, in keeping these old treasures with all their stories. My own children, although they have each chosen a few cherished clocks from my collection, the rest will go up for auction someday, sold for whatever they can get. It’s a sobering thought, one I try not to dwell on too often.
Adjusting a tall-case clock
In a world where minimalism and rapid change have become ideals, I worry that the beauty and history in antiques are slipping away, lost in the rush to move forward. Each clock I have collected has a story—a legacy of skill and craftsmanship, resilience, and time. I hope that someday, someone will see beyond the dust and patina and recognize the true value these pieces hold. Yet I wonder: how do we make these treasures matter in a world that so easily leaves the past behind?
Maybe it starts with us, sharing stories and teaching others to see these old clocks not as relics but as links to history and memory. Each clock was built with care, by hands that once held a passion for the craft. Each tick and strike is a heartbeat, connecting us to moments long gone.
Maybe, if we bring people close enough to touch and hear these old clocks, we can pass on a little of that wonder. Letting someone hear the rich strike of an old clock, or watching gears move gracefully in time—these small moments can stir something deep, something lasting.
My daughter has her name on this clock
Documenting their stories, through photos and words as I attempt to do with my blog, is my r way of carrying these legacies forward, preserving the memory in a form that lasts longer than I will.
And for those who may stumble upon these stories years from now, I hope they’ll feel that spark of connection. Reaching out to online communities, historical societies, or even local museums could help, too. By blending history with storytelling and technology, maybe we can find a way to preserve this beauty and bring it to life for future generations.
Assessing the quality of mantel clocks, whether American or German, involves considering various factors such as craftsmanship, materials used, design, and overall reliability. Both American and German manufacturers have a rich history in clockmaking, and each has its own unique characteristics.
In my collection, I’ve assembled a diverse array of clocks, featuring both American and European examples. Drawing upon my experiences, I can confidently say that when it comes to overall quality, I find myself favouring a typical German clock over its American counterpart.
American mantel clocks are known for their diversity in design and style. Manufacturers like Seth Thomas, Ansonia, Waterbury, Sessions, and others have produced a wide range of mantel clocks with different aesthetic influences. The craftsmanship and attention to detail in many American mantel clocks are often praised. Some American manufacturers have a tradition of incorporating high-quality materials, such as solid wood and detailed finishes.
However, the American mantel clock market has seen fluctuations in quality over time. Some collectors and enthusiasts may argue that the mid-20th century saw a decline in craftsmanship as manufacturers faced increased competition and economic pressures.
I see this clearly in American mechanical clocks made in the 1920s and 1930s. There is a definite step downwards in quality and the goal of production seems to have been to maximize profits.
Germany has a long-standing reputation for precision engineering and quality craftsmanship, and this extends to its clockmaking industry. German mantel clocks, especially those produced by renowned manufacturers like Mauthe, Junghans, HAC, Kienzle, Gustav Becker, and others are often associated with precision movements and reliable timekeepers.
German mantel clocks are also known for their mechanical excellence and commitment to traditional clockmaking techniques. Many German clocks feature intricately designed cases and precise movements, often with a focus on accuracy and durability.
German clock manufacturers maintained their commitment to producing high-quality clocks well into the 1920s and 1930s. Instead of compromising on materials or craftsmanship, they opted to charge a premium for their clocks, ensuring that the level of quality remained consistently high.
A comparison
Let’s compare a common German mantel clock with its American counterpart. Both are in my collection.
Junghans bracket style mantel clock
The Junghans mantel clock features a design reminiscent of the popular bracket-style clocks that were fashionable several years before its production around 1915. It has a mahogany veneered case, a brass case handle, brass features below the dial, a solid brass dial bezel with beveled glass, and elegant brass feet. Its sturdy time and strike movement, known for its reliability during that era, adds to the clock’s appeal as a dependable clock for the home.
Seth Thomas time and strike with type 89 movement
The Seth Thomas clock, manufactured in the United States, showcases a case of inferior quality, a basic brass bezel, and a simulated wood veneer that imitates the appearance of exotic wood. Cost-saving to maximize profit was the ultimate priority during the period of manufacture of this clock from the early 1930s.
Despite this, the clock is equipped with the reliable and durable type 89 movement, which has proven to be bulletproof and dependable over time.
Servicing a German vs an American movement
There are pros and cons to servicing either type of movement. German time and strike movements can be a bit more intricate and finicky, especially when setting up the strike side, as lining up the parts correctly is crucial. Dealing with smaller pivots also increases the risk of damage, bending, or breaking.
Conversely, with American time and strike movements, the larger pivots minimize breakage and it requires brute strength to inflict any damage when manipulating the parts.
However crude an American movement might appear in a side-by-side comparison with a German movement, there is a notable advantage to the former. An American movement (generally speaking) can endure wear much better than a German movement, and it can continue to run effectively even when significantly worn.
That said, when both are set up correctly and any wear is mitigated both American and German movements function reliably for years.
In Summary
Both American and German mantel clocks can offer high-quality options, but individual preferences may vary based on factors like design preferences and specific features.
Collectors and enthusiasts often appreciate the historical context and craftsmanship associated with clocks from both regions.
Obviously, your source of clocks depends on where you live in the world as Canadian and American clocks are widely available to those living in North America whereas the opposite is true for European and Australian residents, for example.
One last thing to note is that precision regulators from both countries are of equal quality. Whether American or German, both exhibit equal precision and performance. They both adhere to the highest standards and can be trusted for accurate timekeeping. It’s worth noting, however, that achieving such precision comes with a correspondingly high price.
These viewpoints represent my personal opinions, and I encourage readers to delve into researching specific models and manufacturers. Making an informed decision should be based on individual preferences and priorities.
My apologies for the wordplay in the title. I recently encountered an issue with the striking mechanism in a German clock I’m currently repairing, and in this article, I would like to describe my experience with the repair.
I have to admit it is a frustrating problem that could have been a disaster but I came up with a solution that should work.
Junghans movement on the test stand
The other day I was investigating why the strike side of a Junghans time and strike movement was not functioning correctly and discovered a portion of a small stamped metal part on the exterior of the movement had bent.
I had simply pried too hard when unbending a part of the stamped metal piece and it snapped off, which surprised me. It was a very small piece and when it flew off it was hidden in the clutter of my work area but I was successful in retrieving it. Without that small piece, I was not certain I could make the repair.
The movement in the case
Perhaps I do not have the correct name for the part that bent but let’s call it the strike actuator. The strike actuator when activated lifts a lever to begin the strike process. The activator is attached to the front plate with a small machine screw and is free to move.
On the center arbor is a star cam. The 2 points on the star cam rotate every 30 minutes until a star point pushes the strike actuator to begin the strike sequence. A protruding piece of metal, the contact piece for the star point on the actuator, is the part that broke as I was attempting to unbend it.
Junghans movement side view
Needless to say, I was crestfallen. What do I do now!
There are essentially three ways of addressing a situation like this.
If I had enough spare parts, the straightforward fix would be to replace the problematic part by taking it from a donor movement. However, whereas I have an ample supply of spare American movements for American clock repairs, unfortunately, I lack spare German movements for parts.
To my knowledge, there is no established source for Junghans clock parts. While clock parts suppliers offer various components for common repairs like escapements and mainsprings, smaller parts like this are typically not readily available in their inventory.
The second solution is to simply have a nonfunctioning strike side but a clock that at the very least, tells the time.
The third alternative involves undertaking a repair, as there appears to be a potential for some sort of restoration. So, I chose to fix it. Although I cannot assure the repair’s absolute success, my intention is to conduct thorough testing to assess its effectiveness.
The Repair
To repair the actuator there is no need to disassemble the movement. One small slotted screw holds it in place. Release the screw and it is ready to be worked on.
To repair the actuator, I used a high-temperature butane torch along with a solder containing a significant amount of silver. It comes in spools and looks much like aluminum wire.
Silver solder is known for its higher melting point compared to other solder types, ensuring greater durability and reducing the risk of weld cracking.
Using hobby alligator clamps, I securely held together the broken piece and the actuator, eliminating the need to handle the pieces manually. After securing them, I dabbed flux in the weld area and then applied heat until the metal changed color and then proceeded to apply the solder.
The stamped metal black part is the actuatorand here you can see the successful repair
The challenging part involved aligning the fractured piece onto the actuator. I had to carefully maneuver the clamps to ensure they were positioned correctly for the welding process. The actual soldering was the easy part and literally took seconds.
After a few minutes, I reattached the actuator. I then wound both the strike and time side of the movement and observed the action of the actuator as it went through the strike sequence. It worked!
I plan to keep the movement on the test stand for a couple of weeks or more but after running it for four days the weld has held.
Final thoughts
Tackling the repair of the actuator in this Junghans clock posed its challenges, particularly in aligning and securing the broken piece onto the actuator. Importantly, in any clock servicing, mistakes may occur, but it’s crucial to remember that there are ways to address and rectify many errors. Whether through additional adjustments, alternative techniques, or seeking guidance, the learning process in clock repair involves both successes and challenges.
In the end, the commitment to problem-solving enhances one’s skills, making each repair experience a valuable lesson in the pursuit of clock repair.
In the heart of North End Halifax, on December 6, 1917, a Junghans Crispi clock fell off a wall in a house on Princess Court. Unbeknownst to it, this simple clock would become a silent witness to one of the worst man-made disasters in Canadian history – the Halifax Explosion.
The cloud produced by the explosion
As the Belgian relief ship Imo collided with the French munitions vessel Mont-Blanc, a catastrophic event unfolded in Halifax’s harbour. The explosion at 9:04:35 a.m. reshaped the landscape, claiming 2,000 lives with 9,000 injured, and left an indelible mark on Halifax’s history.
Since some case parts were missing, a catalog image of the clock served as a helpful referenceHow the clock was received
Fast forward to 2017, a century later, and the remnants of that clock found their way into my hands. The following journey is about a box of clock parts, carefully preserved by a family for generations, passing through to a new owner to be revived and displayed as a connection to history.
The movement was very dirty but intact
The task of reviving the clock, and turning it into a connection to history is a process that took over two months.
The restoration unfolded step by step. The clock parts were carefully cleaned, new parts were fashioned, and the correct materials were found to restore the Junghans Crispi wall clock to renewed glory. The hands, frozen since that fateful day, started moving again – a symbol of human resilience.
The restored Junghans Crispi wall clock was finally unveiled in late 2017 and has been ticking away and gracing the wall of our dining room ever since then. Its polished wooden frame, bold brass accents, and rhythmic ticking resonated with the shared history of a city and a clock that refused to succumb to the ravages of time.
As we mark the 107th anniversary of the Halifax Explosion, my Junghans Crispi wall clock stands as a symbol of resilience, remembrance, and the power of restoration.
In the quiet corners of North End Halifax, it tells a story that transcends time – a tale of survival, renewal, and the enduring spirit of a community that rebuilt itself from that terrible moment.
In the past two weeks, my focus has been directed towards the servicing of a Junghans roundtop mantel clock. This particular time and strike mantel clock is the Hunsruck model manufactured in the second half of 1913 (stamped B13 on the rear plate). For first impressions and background information about the clock itself, you can go here. For a description of mainspring servicing, you can find that article here.
Junghans Hunsruck mantel clock C.1913
During this part of the servicing process, my attention will be focused on bushing work, reassembly (with some tips), final testing, and addressing the condition of the case.
Back of movement showing strike block and pendulum
My initial assessment revealed that the movement was generally in good condition. While some previous work had been done on it, limited to a basic cleaning, no substantial repairs were evident. Nevertheless, a conspicuous buildup of dirty oil was observed in most pivot holes, underscoring the need for a good cleaning.
Avoid using a taper pin for this lever (see arrow), as it would result in the lever being excessively tight; opt for a thin wire instead
Upon closer inspection, elongated pivot holes in three locations told me that new bushings were necessary: specifically, the third wheel time side, back plate, and both the front and back plates of the star wheel. The star wheel runs off the count wheel and it is the star points that move the tail that activates the hammer to produce the strike on the half hour.
The pivot holes were carefully cleaned out using toothpicks as the first step in the cleaning process. Subsequently, I examined the pivots on each wheel by running a fingernail across them to detect any ridges or imperfections, and they appeared to be in excellent condition. I also verified the integrity of the pins in each lantern pinion. Upon confirming that I had addressed all that I could at this point, the next phase involved cleaning the components in the ultrasonic cleaner.
Once everything was out of the ultrasonic cleaner all components were thoroughly dried to remove all traces of residual moisture.
Now to address the worn pivot holes.
A centering bit ensures an accurate cut
If you are accustomed to handling traditional time-and-strike American clocks, the small pivots on these German clocks might cause some unease. The diameter of each bushing measures just 2.47mm (Bergeon bushing size), whereas conventional bushings for an American clock are often 3.47mm and larger (again, Bergeon-sized bushings).
In the above photo, I use a centering bit to ensure a precise cut into the plate so that the bushing can be seamlessly inserted.
To ensure a precise fit the newly installed bushings are reamed using a cutting broach, followed by smoothing with a broach and cleaning with a toothpick. After each new bushing is in place, the wheels are test-fitted to ensure they spin freely plus sufficient end shake.
Given the delicate nature of the pivots, handling each one requires careful attention, as a broken pivot and its repair can be a challenging and intricate task on a German clock.
After the bushings are installed the movement is reassembled. Before attaching the back plate, all wheels, and levers are positioned in their respective locations.
Wheels and levers are ready for the rear place
To avoid having to remove the back plate to make further adjustments after assembly addressing four specific items will ease the process;
the count lever paddle must be in one of the deep slots of the count wheel,
the cam lever must be on the flat section of the cam,
the hammer tail must be positioned between two points of the star wheel (otherwise the tail contacts a star point, and the hammer will be left in the raised position preventing further striking)
and the pin on the warning wheel must be in the 12 o’clock position to catch the warning lever.
In my experience, the hammer tail contacting one of the star points is the most common of annoyances and calls for parting the plates. It is worth noting that the levers on clock movements of this specific type are not adjustable so, bending a lever to fit is not possible.
Pivot locator
Utmost attention must be paid to moving the pivots carefully into their respective holes as the risk of a broken pivot is very high at this point in the process. A “pivot locator” is an indispensable tool for safely moving pivots into their holes while working on the movement.
The pendulum is placed such that it can be seen through the front glassportal
Prior to mounting on the test stand, the movement is oiled using Keystone pivot oil. As with oiling any clock, the maxim is “less is more”.
The testing phase is one of the most crucial parts of the process, providing a chance to make minor adjustments and regulate the movement. I routinely ensure that the movement goes through at least two or three operational cycles while mounted on the test stand. Once I am satisfied that the movement is running well and needs no further remediation it goes back into its case.
While the movement is being tested I generally address any issues regarding the case. Little needed to be done to this attractive oak-cased roundtop and a general cleaning with Murphy’s soap and an application of paste wax preserved its patina while sprucing up its appearance.
Servicing an antique clock not only respects its history but also keeps its mechanism working for future generations to appreciate.
Last week I began working on a Junghans round top mantel clock. For first impressions and background information about the clock itself, you can find the article here.
During this segment of the maintenance process, my attention will be focused on the mainsprings.
Upon my initial assessment, it appeared that the movement was found to be in decent condition, overall. A noticeable accumulation of dirty oil in the majority of pivot holes told me that a thorough cleaning was necessary.
Junghans movement with the back plate removed
Upon closer inspection, elongated pivot holes in three locations tell me that new bushings need to be installed: specifically, on the third wheel time side, back plate, and both the front and back plates of the star wheel. The star wheel runs off the count wheel and it is the star points that activate the hammer for the strike.
But first, let’s focus on the mainsprings.
In my experience neglecting certain steps during clock servicing can result in potential future complications.
One side of the barrel is open
For example, there is a temptation to overlook the mainspring barrels, yet it becomes evident that unless one is confident about the absence of accumulated dirt and grime within the spring barrel, certainty can only be achieved through disassembly. Moreover, the open design of this particular barrel increases the likelihood of dirt penetrating the springs.
While mainsprings can be removed from their barrels by hand and subsequently coiled back in by hand, a mainspring winder, such as one made by Olie Baker, is an essential tool for the serious repairer.
Time side mainspring on an Olie Baker spring winder, an appropriately sized collar is on the right
Removing and reattaching the caps to any barrel can be quite cumbersome. With this particular barrel, a convenient and swift method involves using a small slotted screwdriver in one of the two small openings to easily pry open the cap.
A small slotted screwdriver is inserted in the opening to pry open the cap
The importance of wearing leather gloves for safety cannot be overstated.
Tightening the mainspring allows for the insertion of the collar
A firm grip on the barrel ensures a predictable and controlled process.
The collar is in placeand the spring can be let down and removed from the barrel
During the removal of the mainspring, a thorough inspection is conducted to identify potential issues such as stress cracks, unusual wear, pitting, and the accumulation of rust. Subsequently, the spring undergoes a meticulous cleaning process to eliminate any dirty oil, followed by reoiling, before being reintegrated into the barrel.
Reattaching the cap to the barrels can be accomplished by employing two small clamps to gently guide the cap into position.
Two clamps help to guide the cap in place
Once more, the use of gloves guarantees safety.
Upon proper placement, the cap will emit a distinctive “snap” sound.
Both mainsprings have been serviced and the barrels cleaned in the ultrasonic machine
The springs in this particular clock appeared to be in excellent condition and are suitable for reuse.
Meanwhile, it is essential to inspect the barrel teeth for signs of wear, particularly focusing on any bent or damaged teeth during this stage. Worn teeth may result from a spring that is too powerful and not correctly rated for this clock, while broken or bent teeth could be indicative of a mainspring failure.
Next, we proceed with the remainder of the maintenance for this time and strike clock, moving on with the polishing of pivots and bushing work. Join me in a few days as we continue the servicing of this Junghans movement.
I first wrote aboutthis clock in April 2023 after having won it at auction. With so many other projects on the go, I can finally allocate time to focus on servicing this captivating German time and strike mantel clock.
Auction photo
The 1915 Junghans catalog identifies the clock as the Hunsruck, named after a mountain range in Germany, and provides its specifications as 28.5 cm in height with a mahogany or oak case construction, a 14-day run time, and a silvered dial. This clock is the mahogany cased model.
Junghans Hunsruck model
The movement is a time-and-strike design that was a hallmark feature of numerous Junghans mantel clocks during that period. I have one other Junghans mantel clock with an identical 151 movement.
Junghans Sydney with the 151 movement
The Junghans trademark is boldly showcased on the gong block and inscribed on the back of the movement. On the back plate, it is stamped B13 which denotes the movement as having been manufactured in the latter part of 1913.
Removing the movement from the case is relatively straightforward. The movement, which rests on a wooden support board is held in place by two rather large 1 1/8 inch wood screws. After taking the movement out of the case, two brass thumbscrews are removed to release the seat board.
Assessment
Upon my initial assessment, it appears that the movement is in decent condition, overall. However, there is a noticeable accumulation of dirty oil in the majority of pivot holes, indicating a thorough cleaning is necessary.
Junghans movement with the back plate removed
Upon closer inspection, elongated pivot holes in three locations tell me that new bushings need to be installed: specifically, on the third wheel time side, back plate, and both the front and back plates of the star wheel. The star wheel runs off the count wheel and it is the star points that activate the hammer for the strike.
I use toothpicks to carefully clean out the pivot holes before immersing the plates in the ultrasonic cleaner as part of my standard practice. With a soft cloth, I clean and inspect the pivots on each wheel using a fingernail across the pivot to check for ridges and imperfections. I then check the integrity of the pins in each of the lantern pinions. Once satisfied that the inspection is complete the next step is cleaning the parts in my ultrasonic cleaner.
I will pause here and resume next week with the continuation of servicing the Junghans type 151 clock movement, including details about the necessary bushing work. Additionally, I will provide insights into the case’s condition. Stay tuned for the conclusion!
In the world of horology, antique clocks stand as both timekeeping devices and exquisite works of art, bearing witness to the craftsmanship and design sensibilities of bygone eras.
Yet, beneath their exteriors lies a profound philosophical conundrum—one that questions the very essence of their identity. As we dive into the realm of antique clocks, we find ourselves pondering a perplexing thought experiment: When is a clock no longer the same clock?
This article embarks on a journey through the intricacies of restoration, originality, and the identity of antique clocks.
When gradually replacing every part of a clock, a fascinating philosophical question arises: at what point does it cease to be the same clock? This conundrum extends to the creation of a “new” clock from those original parts.
This brings to mind the Ship of Theseus thought experiment which raises the intriguing question of identity and continuity. If all the components of a ship are gradually replaced over time, at what point does it cease to be the same ship?
The dilemma lies in determining which of the two clocks can rightfully claim to be the original. This thought experiment delves into the complex nature of an object’s identity, as no two objects can occupy the exact same identity. It challenges us to consider whether an object with all its components replaced can still be fundamentally regarded as the same object.
Several years ago, I had the opportunity to work on a antique clock that was essentially a box of parts.
Junghans clock pieces
At first glance, it seemed to be in its original state, but upon closer inspection, discrepancies emerged. Contrary to the initial impression that all components were intact within the box, I soon realized that numerous intricate elements, such as case embellishments and finials, were absent. What’s more, a substantial portion of the case had been reconstructed using contemporary materials, and both front and side glass panels were notably absent.
Crown support made from new oak
This prompts the question of whether a clock in such a state can still be categorized as original, or if it has strayed too far from the essence of originality due to the incorporation of modern elements and the absence of vital components.
Fashioning finial bases from an oak spindleJunghans Crispi dial face
Despite its captivating visual appeal, my Junghans Crispi does not command the same market value as an authentic, original Crispi clock.
Junghans Crispi wall clock C.1899 (??)
People often place a premium on originality, and I, for one, appreciate a well-preserved clock in its original condition. I may reconsider if it has been tastefully restored or repaired, recognizing that it’s a better fate than being discarded or stripped for parts. However, I wouldn’t expect to pay as much for a clock that has undergone significant alterations.
Valuing an excessively restored clock can be challenging. While conservation and restoration have their merits, the question arises: does a clock that was two steps away from the trash bin become less valuable when restored?
In reality, there are no definitive answers to these questions. Collectors will always exist who prioritize originality and others who are more forgiving of certain changes. So, is this debate a significant concern, or simply a matter of personal preference?
We have been facing a challenging spring here in Nova Scotia, as the threat of wildfires has been looming over us.
In May 2023, our community in Nova Scotia has been devastated by the occurrence of two uncontrolled wildfires. The dire consequences of these fires include the evacuation of thousands of individuals and the tragic loss of hundreds of homes.
Residing in a rural area with our house nestled amidst beautiful trees, we can’t help but have a constant awareness of the potential for fire.
While it’s crucial to prioritize safety and well-being in emergency situations, it’s understandable that certain personal belongings/items hold significant value to us. They include ID, cell phones, credit cards, vehicle titles, keys, flashlights, passports, a portable hard drive containing all personal photos, and essential clothing but if I find myself with a moment to select just one antique clock during a speedy evacuation what would it be?
My wife prompted this discussion when she asked, “What clock would you take?
Selecting a specific antique clock to save from a “burning house” is a subjective decision based on personal preferences, sentimental value, and the uniqueness of each clock. However, here are a few factors I might consider when making my decision:
I might choose a clock that holds special meaning to me or my family. It could be a clock that has been passed down through generations or one that has sentimental value attached to it.
I would consider the rarity and historical significance of the clock in question. If a clock’s origins is significant or it is known for its craftsmanship or historical importance, I might prioritize saving such a clock.
If one clock is in better condition or has the potential for easier restoration, it might be a good choice to save.
Here are 5 clocks that would be high on my list and the reasons why. But in the end, I could only take one!
Pequegnat Canadian Time
Pequegnat Canadian Time
I have had this clock for a number of years, and have serviced it twice. The clock’s case, on the other hand, has remained untouched and remains in exceptional condition. This particular clock holds a special place in my collection as one of the earliest examples of the eight Pequegnat clocks I own. It spent its life in the waiting area of a train station located 1/2 drive from my home.
Sawin Banjo Clock
Sawin banjo clock
Dating back to the 1840s, this exceptional timepiece exemplifies the pinnacle of meticulous movement craftsmanship. While the case and movement do not bear any explicit “Sawin” markings, various indicators strongly suggest that it was crafted by John Sawin himself or one of his associates or apprentices. Notably, this clock stands out for its straightforward construction, lacking side rails or ornate embellishments such as painted tablets or gilt decorations. It is precisely this simplicity in design that captivates me, as it allows the clock’s elegance and craftsmanship to take center stage.
Junghans Crispis time and strike wall clock
Junghans Crispi
This clock underwent a comprehensive restoration process involving countless hours of work, including disassembling, creating new components, servicing the movement, and refinishing the case. The restoration required a significant amount of labor and attention to detail. The clock holds a captivating story as it was rescued from a house that endured severe destruction during the Halifax Explosion in 1917.
The sheer beauty of this clock makes it incredibly challenging to part with. Its design epitomizes the finest qualities of the 1880s Vienna style. Unlike the later Viennese clocks, which often leaned towards ornate and ostentatious features, the clocks from this particular period maintain their elegance and embrace a more refined and understated aesthetic. The clock’s classic, simple lines are a testament to the enduring allure of the Vienna style during that era.
Arthur Pequegnat Canadian Time
Arthur Pequegnat Moncton
It is quite possible that this clock was located in a train station or some other commercial setting, given its robust construction and durability designed to withstand potential mistreatment. Additionally, its timeless design features are reminiscent of the classic lines commonly associated with the 1920s era. The clock’s sturdy build and elegant aesthetics perfectly capture the spirit of that period, adding to its overall charm and appeal.
E. Ingraham Huron
E Ingraham Huron
This clock resided in the charming vicinity of Bridgewater, Nova Scotia. It came into our possession during a challenging period for a couple undergoing a difficult separation, as sentimental items often find their way to new homes in such circumstances. Among the clocks in my collection, this one stands out as one of the few that underwent professional servicing, ensuring its optimal functionality. Notably, this clock holds a relatively rare status, being produced by the E. Ingraham Clock Co. during the brief span of two years, between 1878 and 1880.
And now it boils down to the one to choose?
Although I hold great admiration for all of these clocks, if I were constrained by space and could only choose a single one to take with me, it would have to be the Junghans Crispi. As mentioned earlier, this clock embodies the qualities that I value, such as its exceptional craftsmanship and timeless appeal. Its unique design, combined with the renowned Junghans brand, makes it a standout choice in the collection. Given the limited space, the Junghans Crispi would be the clock I couldn’t bear to leave behind, as it represents the epitome of my preferences and holds a special place in my heart.
Junghans, a renowned manufacturer of high-end wristwatches today, acknowledges their significant role in the clock industry by providing access to their catalogs to anyone interested in researching their clock production since the company’s establishment in the 1880s.
This demonstrates the company’s commitment to preserving the history and legacy of their brand and allowing collectors and enthusiasts to gain valuable insights into the evolution of their clock-making techniques and designs over time.
Auction photo
The 1915 Junghans catalog identifies this clock as the Hunsruck, named after a mountain range in Germany, and provides its specifications as 28.5 cm in height with a mahogany or oak case construction, a 14-day run time, and a silvered dial.
While I haven’t yet had the opportunity to service the clock’s movement, I have focused my attention on refreshing the clock’s case, which is the main topic of this post.
This particular clock was originally offered in both oak and mahogany versions, and the one in my possession is the mahogany variant.
A comment on the finish
Despite my expectations that the finish would be consistent throughout the entire case, I have noticed a noticeable tonal variation between the base and the top, sides, and front of the clock. This observation leads me to suspect that the base may be crafted from a different type of wood than the rest of the clock.
We will have to wait and see if any measures taken will have an impact on the tonal difference between the base and the rest of the clock.
All brass is polished and after one coat of stain is applied
Work begins on the case
I began by giving the case a thorough cleaning using Murphy’s soap. Following the cleaning, I applied a light coat of Mahogany stain from a company called Minwax, being cautious not to leave it on for more than the recommended 10-minute period to ensure the stain penetrated the wood correctly. After 10 minutes, I wiped off any remaining residue and gave it an additional wipe at the four-hour drying point.
After the initial staining, I observed that the base of the clock still had a tonal difference compared to the rest of the case.
Through previous experience, I’ve learned not to overdo the staining process, and often, one coat is more than sufficient. Despite this, I opted to apply a second coat of stain to the base only, intending to stop there, even if the tonal difference was still present. As a result there remained a subtle variation in the finish, perhaps only discernible to me. Nevertheless, I was very satisfied with the performance of the stain as it effectively concealed the scratches and nicks on the case.
For the final stage of the case restoration, my original plan was to use a product called Wipe-On Poly by Minwax but using a modern finish for restoring antique clock cases is not a conventional practice.
After careful consideration, I opted for a less intrusive approach by utilizing a finishing paste wax specifically designed for dark finishes, also made by Minwax (and no, I don’t have shares in the company). Clock cases were typically dusted, waxed, and polished during their time as part of routine housekeeping.
After one coat of finishing paste wax
As always, my goal is not to restore the clock case to its original factory finish but rather to conceal any imperfections caused by wear and tear on the wood surfaces in order to enhance its overall appearance. The light refinishing effectively achieved the desired outcome.
The brass
To clean the dial, side door button, and ball feet, I used a cleaning and polishing product called Brasso. I was pleasantly surprised by the results since I had anticipated that removing years of accumulated dirt and grime would be a significant challenge. However, the Brasso worked remarkably well in restoring the brass clock case features to their former shine. I removed the ball feet by unscrewing them so that I could polish every part of them thoroughly.
The dial
Despite efforts to remove the blemish between the numbers four and five with Murphy’s Soap, which was clearly visible in the auction photo above, it was found to be impossible to eliminate completely. However, it is now slightly less noticeable. I initially assumed that it was dirt, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be some sort of abrasion.
In sum
Restoring an antique clock case can be a delicate and challenging process that requires patience and attention to detail. By using a combination of cleaning and staining products, as well as conventional finishes it’s possible to bring new life to a piece that may have been neglected or damaged over time.
While it may not always be possible to eliminate every imperfection entirely, taking the time to restore a clock case to a semblance of its former glory can be a rewarding experience for both the restorer and the future owner of the piece. Ultimately, the care and effort put into restoring an antique clock case can help preserve its history and ensure that it remains to be enjoyed for generations to come.
Junghans, a name that is well-known to clock collectors and repairers, is not the company it once was. In recent years, the company has established itself as a prominent manufacturer of high-quality wristwatches.
However, During the early to mid-20th century the German company had established itself as a prolific producer of wall, mantel, and tall case clocks. Collectors and enthusiasts highly value the company’s clocks for their superior quality, solid construction, and classic designs that have withstood the test of time.
Although I wasn’t actively seeking out a new Junghans clock to add to my collection, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to acquire this one at an attractive price. It now joins my collection of clocks, which includes two other Junghans clocks.
Junghans Sydney time and strike bracket clockC. 1911
One is a bracket clock from 1911 (code stamped B11), and the other is an older wall clock from the turn of the 20th century. Both of these clocks are among the 21 clocks in my home that are run and maintained on a daily basis.
Junghans Crispi time and strike wall clockC. 1899
As expected, the clock arrived safely after I chose to have it shipped to me instead of personally picking it up from the auction house, which is located two hours away from my home. I had confidence in the auction house’s ability to package the clock securely for safe shipping, as I have dealt with them in the past and they have always been careful with packaging.
Auction house photo
Having received the clock, I can confirm that it is exactly what I expected it to be, with no surprises or unexpected issues. Checking its functionality, I wound both sides and it runs and strikes as it should.
Backplate and coil gong
A similar movement in my Sydney bracket clock is stamped with a code (B11) indicating its production year, which is two years before this one. The gong block in both clocks is also identical in appearance.
However, I will only be able to confirm if there are any other internal differences between the two clocks when I dismantle the movement for cleaning.
Dial
Is the blemish just above the number five a scuff mark or a permanent abrasion, or is it merely a buildup of dirt that can be cleaned off?
Crackling or alligoration of the finish
The case of the clock appears dull and neglected, and I am uncertain as to the appropriate method for refinishing at this point, nevertheless, it is evident that the case’s appearance would be significantly improved with some care and attention.
Pendulum bob and key
A correction from a previous article
After believing that the pendulum attached to the clock was not appropriate for the movement, I replaced it with what I believed was the correct one. However, I discovered that the replacement pendulum did not reach down to the beveled glass port and the rod hook was opposite in orientation to the one that came with the clock.
Despite functioning well and keeping accurate time, it did not look suitable. After I posted an article on first impressions, sight unseen, A reader pointed out that they have the exact pendulum bob for their Junghans roundtop clock, which has now led me to reconsider my previous assumption that the original pendulum was not the correct one. Thank you, dear reader!
Now that I have confirmed that the clock is functioning correctly, it is time to proceed with the disassembly and cleaning process, which is evidently long overdue.
As a manufacturer today Junghans is not the same company that made mechanical clocks many years ago. In response to the demands and advancements in technology in today’s world, the company has undergone a transformation in its products. In recent years, the company has established itself as a prominent manufacturer of high-quality wristwatches.
B13 stamped on the movement plate indicates that it was made in the last half of 1913
With a rich heritage in mechanical clockmaking, the company had established itself as a prolific producer of wall, mantel, and tall case clocks. Collectors and enthusiasts highly value the company’s clocks for their superior quality, craftsmanship, and classic designs that have withstood the test of time.
While I am not specifically searching for Junghans clocks, I have two other Junghans clocks in my collection. One is a bracket clock from 1911, and the other is an older wall clock from the turn of the 20th century.
As of this writing, my most recent acquisition is not yet part of my Junghans clock collection but here is what I know so far.
Based on the pictures obtained from the recent online auction where it was purchased, this unremarkable roundtop time and strike clock from 1913 seems to be in fair condition.
The 1915 Junghans catalog identifies the clock as the Hunsruck, named after a mountain range in Germany, and provides its specifications as 28.5 cm in height with a mahogany or oak case construction, a 14-day run time, and a silvered dial.
Cambered faceted front
It is unclear from the auction photos whether the clock is made of mahogany or not, but judging from the photos its reddish tone suggests it is mahogany. Occasionally, the feet may be replaced with a different type but it is highly probable that they are the original brass ball feet.
One notable feature is the faceted glass port below the clock face, which allows the pendulum bob to be seen in motion.
The photo above shows an example of what would have been the original pendulum with a weight of 150g or 5.2 oz.
The current pendulum is a replacement for the original unit, which was likely lost or misplaced. However, it is not a suitable match as it lacks the necessary weight and aesthetic appeal of the original brass pendulum.
The clock’s movement, which rests on a movement support piece, is a timeless time-and-strike design that was a hallmark feature of numerous Junghans mantel clocks during that era. The Junghans trademark is boldly showcased on the gong block.
The pendulum bob is not correct
When the clock was won at auction the delivery was arranged and I should have it in the next few days. The price? 55CDN plus buyers’ premium, taxes, and shipping.
It is assumed that the clock is operational, but its actual condition cannot be determined until it arrives.
Seven clocks in my collection have family connections, not necessarily with my own family but clocks that I am able to trace back through families mostly in Nova Scotia (Canada). No names are mentioned. The stories are sad in some cases but interesting nonetheless.
Let’s begin.
Waterbury wall clock
When I was a child back in the 1950s my grandparents had one clock in their home, a Waterbury drop octagon located in the kitchen above the sink. It was the only mechanical devcie that made a sound in their home.
Waterbury shot dropwall clock, homemade case
My grandfather was a veteran of the First World War and suffered from shell shock (PTSD) long after the war. His home had to be stone quiet with the exception of the time and strike Waterbury clock in the kitchen.
Not knowing much if anything about case constructionmy cousin decided to screw the bezel into the case
After he died my grandmother sold the house and moved in with one of my aunts. The clock went to one of my uncle’s kids. The original case was painted yellow to match my grandfather’s kitchen walls and either it was in poor condition or broken, and a new case was constructed by my cousin. He knew almost nothing about case construction but did the best he could. Because he did not know how to repair the movement the clock was stored in a barn for a number of years (chicken pecks on the dial face!). In 2020, he gave the clock to another cousin who was breaking up their home and asked if I would have it.
Rather than take the movement out of its homemade case and put it into something more appropriate I decided to leave it as is as the case with all its warts is part of the history of the clock.
Sawin Banjo clock from a collector in Wolfville NS
My wife found this weight drive time-only banjo clock on Facebook Marketplace. The photos were quite poor and I imagine the seller was not getting much traction on the ad. Knowing that it might be something special I made an offer, sight unseen.
Banjo clockby John Sawin or one of his associates
It had a few minor issues such as broken glass, and veneer losses but otherwise, the clock was intact including the original acorn finial.
Timepiece
I always ask the seller about a clock’s origin and in this case, the clock was from a collector in Wolfville, Nova Scotia. The seller said that her uncle had this clock as well as a number of quality clocks for as long as she could remember, perhaps 60 years or so but could not recall where the clock originally came from.
After researching this clock I discovered that it was made in or around 1840, in Boston and although unsigned has all the markings of a clock made by John Sawin (or one of his associates) an apprentice to the famous inventor of the banjo timepiece, Simon Willard.
Gilbert mantel clock Shawville
What attracted me to this clock was the condition of the case. For a 100+-year-old clock, it is in remarkably good condition.
Gilbert time and strike mantel clock
The design is simple but graceful and of course, it would have been one of the cheaper clocks in the Gilbert line.
Gilbert movement
Despite the pandemic, people were still engaged in the buying and selling of clocks. This was another Facebook ad. The price was very reasonable. The clock was bought from a family in Shawville Quebec. A family member had passed away and all household items were sold off. The seller said her mother loved the clock and polished it weekly though it had not run for years.
Because the seller did not wish to have physical contact with me the clock was placed in a recycle container on the side of the highway for me to pick up.
Mauthe Horse crown
Most would call this a Vienna-style springer. Made in or about 1885 it had been in a family since I bought it from a former superintendent of schools about 6 years ago.
In the early 1980s, his wife brought the family clock over from Holland in a suitcase. It had been in his wife’s family for several generations previously. The gentleman’s wife passed away 10 years ago and had she been alive today I would certainly have learned a lot more about its history.
Mauthe Horse Crown with replacement bottom center finial
The seller was reluctant to let this clock go since it was a happy reminder of his past life. But he was moving into the next phase of his life with a new partner and that meant divesting of furniture and other items. Like him, I think of life in phases.
Mauthe Horse Crown movement
The only issue was a missing bottom finial. I can only imagine that the finial had to be removed so the clock could fit in the suitcase.
Junghans wall clock Crispi
What happens when you get a clock in a box? Call it a collection of parts, pieces, and dust. To some, a box of clock pieces is discouraging but to me, it was a challenge.
Junghans clock in pieces
This is an antique German Junghans time and strike spring-driven clock made in the style of a Vienna Regulator. There is no serial number on the movement which dates the clock to 1899 or earlier (in 1900 Junghans began to number their movements).
Fully restored Junghans Crispi wall clock
This clock is a witness to the day of the Halifax Explosion in 1917. The result of the explosion from a munitions ship in the Bedford basin was apocalyptical.
This clock, owned by the seller’s wife’s mother caught the brunt of the blast.
Catalog photo of the Crispi, second from left
The blast not only shattered the glass panels but heavily damaged the box frame. Most of the parts sat in a box for 100 years. Since the box frame was damaged beyond repair, the seller, an amateur woodworker, built a new frame made of oak some 35 years ago. He was at a loss as to how to repair the movement, put the project aside, and lost interest.
Wag on a wall
The style of the clock is a “wag on the wall”. It is a strange name but basically, it is a clock with the movement enclosed in a small case and with a pendulum and weights exposed. It is so named because the pendulum appears to wag on the wall like a dog’s tail.
Wag on a wall, unknown maker
My wife’s uncle was an internist (internal medicine specialist) in Newfoundland and practiced for many years but dementia and its attendant complications finally got the best of him. He spent the last 5 or so years in a locked ward of a residential facility for the elderly.
The pendulum wags like a dog’s tail
As part of his practice, he set up a home office where he would receive patients and consult with colleagues. In his office was a wall clock given to him by a former patient.
When he passed away his possessions were distributed among his family members with the clock going to his brother who, himself passed away this past year. Unfortunately, there was not much interest in the clock and it spent 15+ years in a Rubbermaid container in the basement of his brother’s home.
His wife is currently in the process of moving to a smaller home, giving away what she could and since I have a keen interest in antique and vintage clocks she determined that the best place for the clock was in the hands of someone who would appreciate it.
Ingraham Huron
The clock is Rosewood “Huron” Shelf Clock, by E. Ingraham & Co., Bristol, Connecticut circa 1878.
Rare E Ingraham Huron found on a local online for-sale site
It has a paper-on zinc dial with a round glazed door and a lower glass access panel. It is a brass eight-day spring-powered movement, with a height of just under 41 centimeters.
Ingraham Huron balloon-style shelf clock
I asked the seller who was about 70 years old at the time, “what do you know about this clock?”. He extended his hand palm down out to about a meter from the floor and said, “I was this tall when I can first remember it in my grandmother’s home”. There is a penciled marking just inside the case indicating that it had been serviced by a person by the name of Hebb in 1944. The seller recalls a Hebb family who at one time lived in the Bridgewater area of Nova Scotia near where I purchased the clock.
He and his wife were in the process of dissolving their marriage and were selling off everything they own including many sentimental items.
Conclusion
I always make it a point to ask about the history of any clock I purchase. Sometimes, in the cases above I learn interesting things about the clock. In other cases, the seller knows nothing.
I wish I knew more about other clocks in my collection. Unfortunately many were passed on from seller to buyer and the history has been lost forever, but what stories some of them could tell.
Honestly, an entire book could be devoted to the topic of dating clocks. Some time ago, I published an article titled “How to Date an Antique or Vintage Clock – Part I,” in which I used specific examples from my own collection.
I’d like to explore this topic further, and this post will discuss additional methods for dating an antique or vintage mechanical clock. While there is no one definitive method for dating an antique or vintage clock, there are often clear clues in some cases and more subtle hints in others that can help pinpoint when a clock was made.
Occasionally, the exact month and year are displayed somewhere on the case, and in other instances, the clock by way of serial numbers, date stamps on the movement, style of hands, spandrels, dial design, case design, and so on, establishes the date to within a certain period.
After 1896 foreign clocks (Europe, England) were mandated to have the country of origin on the case, usually on the dial. Any clock made after that date will have the country of origin.
Duration of manufacture
A bit of research into the history of a clockmaker can help you narrow down the timeframe for dating your clock. For instance, the E.N. Welch Clock Company, an American manufacturer, produced clocks until 1903, when it was acquired by the Sessions Clock Company, which continued making clocks until 1970. The E.N. Welch Clock Company made clocks for a 50-year period until its acquisition by Sessions in 1903.
By 1903 German-based clock manufacturer Junghans was the largest clock maker in the world and continued in its quest to bring more companies into the fold. Gustav Becker, founded in the 1860s, and Hamburg American Clock Company, founded in 1883 were absorbed by Junghans in the late 1920s. Although those companies were folded into Junghans in 1926 the Gustav Becker name lived on for another 9 years.
Gustav Becker regulator C.1907, Braunau factory
Clocks with Steel vs Brass platesvs Woodworks movements
Smaller shelf clocks with 1-day (30-hour) wooden movements were produced in fairly large quantities from around 1810 to 1845, after which most clockmakers changed over to brass movements. Wood dials were also popular during this period.
Daniel Pratt woodworks movement with dial removedC.1832-38
By 1860 iron weights were being replaced by springs as the power source, and smaller clocks, many of them 8-day, were becoming increasingly popular. Early American spring-driven clocks used brass springs (late 1830s) until steel became cost-effective.
This information is important for dating a clock because it highlights key transitions in clockmaking technology and design, which can help pinpoint the era in which a clock was made. For example, the use of wooden movements and wood dials can indicate a clock was produced between 1810 and 1845. The shift from iron weights to springs by 1860 helps us understand why spring-driven clocks became popular, which is crucial for narrowing the period of manufacture. Additionally, the switch from brass springs to steel in the early 1840s can provide a more precise date range for early spring-driven clocks.
Understanding these technological changes allows you to make more informed judgments about a clock’s age based on its features.
Brass mainsprings from a Manross steeple clock C.1837
During periods when brass was in short supply such as the World Wars (WWI and WWII), makers often made steel plate movements with brass bushing inserts. However, some companies such as Arthur Pequegnat used either steel plates or brass-plated steel plates throughout their operating years (1902 to 1941).
Steel plates on a Pequegnat time and strike clock
Other clock companies switched to steel as a cost-cutting measure when brass prices were high, not necessarily during wartime.
Screws and nails, chime rods, coiled gongs
In older clocks, nails, and screws were made of iron and hand-forged, with screw heads being slotted. Hand-forged nails can be found in clock cases dating from the earliest examples up to the mid-19th century, after which machined screws and nails started to replace them.
An ogee clock, like this example made by George H. Clark in 1865, was constructed with hand-forged nails.
George H Clark 30-hour Ogee shelf clock
Robertson and Phillips head screws were introduced in the first part of the twentieth century. Since the Robertson head was invented in 1906 and Phillips screw heads only began to be widely used in the 1930s screws of these types found in older antique clocks are later additions.
Since these screw types were introduced in the early 20th century, their use in a clock that dates from an earlier period suggests that the screws were likely replaced or added during a later restoration or repair. Recognizing these screws helps refine the clock’s dating and can provide insight into its history and any modifications it may have undergone.
The first rod gong, a single striking rod, dates back to patent designation DRGM 108469, granted to Johann Obergfell on December 23rd, 1899. The introduction of the rod gong, as opposed to earlier bell or strike systems, represents a key development in the evolution of mechanical clocks, especially in terms of sound quality and the technology used.
Understanding when this innovation occurred can help date a clock more accurately, particularly those with rod gongs, as it indicates they were likely made after 1899. Rod gongs are typically made from a copper or nickel alloy and are press-fitted into a block.
Thick coiled gong
There are two types of coils: the thick coils, which spiral only a few times and produce a deep, rich tone, and the thinner coils, which spiral many times and often have a higher-pitched, tin-like sound. Thick coils were used well before the mid-1800s. These coils are typically mounted onto a fitting, which is then attached to an iron block. Smaller, thicker coils became more common towards the end of the 19th century.
On the American front, thin wire coils were very common. Some examples had the coil mounted to a dome-shaped base which was said to improve the tone considerately.
Commemorative plaques
Commemorative plaques which display dates are often a good indicator of the age of a clock. However, the clock may have been on a seller’s shelf for years before the date on the plaque. This nevertheless places the clock within a certain range of dates. This photo shows a plaque on a HAC (Hamburg American Clock Co.) time and strike shelf clock.
HAC shelf clock with the date 1926 on a plaque
Type of escapement
Recoil (anchor), half deadbeat, Graham deadbeat, pinwheel, Brocot types are found in older antique clocks while, hairspring, floating balance, lever type escapements are found in newer vintage (less than 100 years old) clocks.
For example, floating balance movementsbegan appearing in mechanical clocks in the early 1950s. The floating balance will tolerate being out of level, unlike pendulum clocks which must be on a level surface, an attractive marketing feature.
This is important because the type of escapement mechanism used in a clock can provide key insights into its age and technological development. Older clocks with recoil (anchor), half deadbeat, Graham deadbeat, pinwheel, or Brocot escapements reflect the horological practices of earlier periods, while newer clocks featuring hairspring, floating balance, or lever type escapements indicate a more modern design, typically found in clocks less than 70 years old.
For example, the introduction of the floating balance in the 1950s was a signifcant advance because it allows for clocks that are less sensitive to being off-level, a feature that made them more convenient for consumers. Recognizing these mechanisms helps in accurately dating a clock and understanding the technological shifts over time.
floating balance escapementC. 1950
Style of case
The style of the case, such as ogee, box clock, steeple, cottage, or gingerbread, can help date the clock to a specific period.
The style of a clock case can offer valuable clues about its age, as different case styles were popular during specific periods in history. Here’s a breakdown of some common clock case styles and their associated timeframes:
Ogee Clocks: These clocks, named for the distinctive curved, “S”-shaped design of their cases, were popular from the early 19th century, especially between 1825 and 1850 but continued to be made into the 1880s. They typically have a simple, symmetrical shape, often with a painted or paper dial, and were mostly made with wooden movements in the early years.
Box Clocks: This style features a simple, rectangular or square case, often with a hinged door or glass front. Box clocks were common in the early to mid-19th century (1920s to 1940s), with their plain, functional design making them relatively inexpensive to produce.
Steeple Clocks: Steeple clocks are characterized by their pointed, “steeple” shape at the top of the case. This design became particularly popular from the 1840s through the 1870s. Steeple clocks were typically more decorative and were often used in homes and churches, with some having more ornate carvings or decorative elements.
Cottage Clocks: Cottage clocks, with their simple and rustic designs, emerged in the mid-19th century, around the 1840s and 1850s. Often smaller in size, these inexpensive clocks were popular in rural homes. They are sometimes characterized by a more casual, handcrafted appearance, with wooden cases and floral or geometric motifs.
Gingerbread Clocks: This style, which features intricate carvings and decorative elements like scalloped edges, ornate moldings, and small, detailed pieces, gained popularity in the mid- to late-19th century (around 1860 to 1880). Gingerbread clocks are often associated with the Victorian era and were typically mass-produced.
The case style is a strong indicator of the clock’s approximate age because clockmakers and manufacturers often adapted their designs to reflect contemporary tastes. By identifying the specific features of a clock’s case—such as the materials used, shape, and any distinctive decorative elements—you can narrow down the period in which it was made, which can then aid in dating the clock more precisely.
E Ingraham Huron C.1878
Knowing the period when a case was made provides a reliable indicator of the clock’s age. Although there are earlier patent dates stamped on the movement of this E. Ingraham Huron time and strike 8-day shelf clock, this style of case was made for only 2 years, 1878 to 1880.
Date stamps on movements or cases& searchable databases
Some makers stamp date their movements or display the date elsewhere on the clock case. The Gilbert Clock Company often date-stamped their movements. Sessions put dates on the door labels.
Some makers such as Junghans stamp a date code on their movements. For example, B19 stamped on the back plate of a Junghans movement refers to a movement made in the latter half of 1919.
Serial numbers stamped on movements can be compared to a database to determine the exact year the clock was made. The Ridgeway clock company used 4-digit codes. For example, serial number 4981 refers to a Ridgeway clock made in 1981.
Gustav Becker clocks were made in both Silesia and Braunau factories, both of which produced clocks but each had a unique serial number convention. The serial number on a Gustav Becker clock will give the exact year of production assuming you know where it was made, Silesia or Braunau.
An online databases such as ClockHistory.com provides invaluable information on companies and models made by them, the years the clock company was in business, and how long the company was in operation.
Searchable databases like Mikrolisk, the horological trademark index help date a clock by comparing a trademark. Some companies revise or restyle their trademarks over the years allowing one to date a clock within a certain period.
At Antique-horology.org keywords or text can be used to search trademarks and identify years they were used.
Scottish tall case clock C.1848
The date 1848 is attributed to the clock above. I arrived at this date because it was made by William McLachlan of Newton Stewart, Scotland. According to an English clock database, Mr. McLachlan was a clock assembler and ran a clock-making business in Newton Stewart until his death in 1848. While the clock could have been assembled as early as 10 years prior, 1848 serves as a conservative estimate.
Other miscellaneous indicators
Plywood began to be used in clock cases starting in 1905. One of the clocks in my collection, a Junghans bracket clock, made around 1913, features a plywood back access door.
Seth Thomas made clocks in marble cases for a short time, from 1887 to about 1895. They also made clocks in iron cases finished in black enamel, from 1892 to about 1895.
Adamantine clocks were most popular through to 1915. Seth Thomas is best known for their “Adamantine” black mantel clocks, which were made starting in 1882. Adamantine is a celluloid veneer, glued to the wood case. Adamantine veneer was made in black and white, and in coloured patterns such as wood grain, onyx, and marble.
Seth ThomasAdamantine clock circa 1911
Final thoughts
My goal for this two-part article was to provide a broad, generalized overview. Each of the sub-topics mentioned above could be explored in much greater detail, and I hope this serves as a useful reference for some of you. I welcome any corrections to the dates, and if there’s anything I’ve missed or other information that should have been included, please feel free to leave a comment.
As I’ve outlined, there are many ways to date a clock—some methods are quite obvious, while others are more subtle and require a bit of research to pinpoint.
For some collectors and clock fans, dating a clock is crucial, as it adds historical context and value to the piece. For others, however, it may not be as important, especially if the clock serves primarily as a decorative item rather than a functional or collectible piece. In such cases, the aesthetic appeal might take precedence over its exact age.
Tick-Talk Tuesday is about the letters and comments I have received from readers concerning clock issues, challenges faced, a clock you would profiled or advice on your particular clock concern. For those comments and questions that stump even me, I consult within my clock circles for the best possible answer
S. writes;
This clock was in My grandparent’s home since the 30’s (I think). My dad (he’s 96) seems to recall my grandfather winding the clock every day, but I just want to make sure. Can you tell me anything about the clock? Thanks for any info you can provide.
My reply:
It looks like a Junghans 8-day Westminster chime bracket style clock, made in Germany. If you open up the back door do you see a trademark on the back of the movement. Take a photo if you can and send it to me. You do not have to take anything apart to see the trademark. Does the gong have a name on it?
Perhaps he wound it every day because it was part of his ritual but it only requires winding once per week.
S. writes back:
Wow! I didn’t see it before!
Junghans trademarkBack of Junghans movement
S. writes back:
How do I see when it was made?
My reply:
The number below the trademark is A20 which means that it was made in the first 6 months of 1920.
Is it worth the time and expense to have a clock professionally serviced?
That is the question of the day.
I receive many letters from people who ask whether a clock handed down to them is worth repairing/preserving. It is not an easy question to answer. Shared history and stories connected with the clock can be passed down from generation to generation and it is fond memories that keep it alive and consequently, there is a desire to have a clock in running condition. Sometimes it is better to do nothing and simply remember the stories associated with the clock.
If the decision is made to do something, the first consideration is whether or not the cost of preserving or restoring the clock is worth it. If the clock has deep sentimental value, the cost of repair cannot be compared to its resale value.
In the early days of clock collecting, I sent out clocks to be serviced and happily absorbed the cost. I knew then that some clocks cost more to repair than they are worth but I wanted to preserve some and have them operate daily, so, professional repairs were necessary.
Junghans clock before restoration
A case in point
In January 2017 I bought a box of old clock parts (above photo). I was determined to make my German-made circa 1895 Junghans Crispi wall clock into what it is today. It was my first huge restoration challenge. It was a steep learning curve for me but in the end, I was pretty happy with the results.
During the course of restoration, I attempted to repair the movement, which hadn’t run in over a hundred years and made some rookie errors. I had no other course of action than to bring it to a professional in order to correct my mistakes. At the end of the day, the total cost was $475 for the initial purchase plus the servicing.
Last year, after 4 years of reliable running the clock developed an errant strike which required investigation and disassembly (and a good cleaning while I was at it) but I would not blame that on the professional repair. Perhaps it is the nature of that particular Junghans movement requiring the odd adjustment every now and then.
Junghans Crispi wall clock
In the years since then, I have acquired the skills and necessary equipment to perform my own repairs.
Twenty-three of the clocks in my collection are daily runners, all serviced from time to time by myself over the years. I am not a professionally trained clock-maker and some procedures are clearly beyond my capabilities, things such as teeth replacement and repair and fashioning new parts from stock brass. 95% of repairs I can comfortably handle on my own.
Rare E Ingraham Huron professionally repaired
Should you bring your clock to a professional? This is a decision you will have to make after weighing all factors. Know that by relying on a professional you can be assured that years of knowledge and experience go into the repair of your precious clock which becomes part of the cost.
Reputable repairers have the correct equipment to tackle just about any repair, offer a warranty period, and will correct any problems that arise after servicing, often without an additional fee.
Clocks are machines and machines do not last forever, parts will wear and from time to time they, like any machine, require attention. If, after some years, the clock that you had professionally repaired stops, I would have no hesitation suggesting that you return to the same repairer for servicing unless, of course, you had a negative experience.
During the Christmas season, we split our time between Calgary, Alberta, and Ottawa, Ontario to see our 2 daughters. While in Calgary my wife spotted an interesting item on an Ottawa Facebook Marketplace, an English time and strike clock.
HAU shelf clock
She showed me the photo and I said, “that does not look like any English clock I am familiar with. The style is definitely German”. There is a commemorative plaque on the front base section which references an English church so, I am assuming the seller thought it was English.
When we picked it up from his home outside Ottawa I was surprised to learn that the seller is a clock collector and had no idea the clock he was selling was German. Occasionally I sell clocks to manage my collection and when advertising one for sale I make it a point to know the maker.
But, no matter, it was in very good condition and in working order.
The movement showing the single strike rod and pendulum bob
The maker is HAU or HAC. The familiar cross arrows trademark of the maker is stamped on the movement, in the middle of the backplate.
HAC was formed in Germany in 1873 by Paul Landenberger and Phillipp Lang and was originally called Landenberger & Lang Uhrenfabrik. The company changed its name to Hamburg Amerikanische Uhrenfabrik (HAU)/Hamburg American Clock Company (HAC) in 1883. The famous crossed-arrows
Crossed arrows trademark
became their trademark in 1892. In 1926 the company went into a cooperative with Junghans and in 1930 they finally merged with Junghans.
The date on the plaque says 1926. However, HAC/HAU clocks are difficult to date prior to Junghans acquisition of HAC/HAU in 1930. Once Junghans and HAC began their collaboration in 1926 some of the movements were date coded.
Plaques are a good but not foolproof method of dating a clock. A clock purchased as a gift in 1926 could very well have been sitting on the retailer’s shelf for two or more years.
Catalogs are another good but hardly foolproof method of dating a clock. A catalog confirms that a model was made in a particular year, but that same model was probably offered 5 years +/- from the year of the catalog.
I will probably not determine a more reliable date for my new clock than circa 1926. The movement, compared to an earlier model (below), also has many cutouts and additional holes that indicate that it was a late production model and confirms that is closer to the 1926 date.
Solid plates of an early HAC clock movement CA. 1895
The clock runs for a while and stops. It is in need of a service but I expected to clean it as many of these old clocks have rarely seen the inside of a clockmakers’ shop.
It is always a thrill to reach a milestone. Six years ago I attended a WordPress workshop and after the instructor assisted us in setting up a rudimentary site, I thought, I can do this. I can talk about clocks! WordPress 101 certainly made it sound so easy but it wasn’t as easy as I thought as I began my journey.
It has taken time to build a following, more than I ever imagined. It takes planning, commitment, an investment of energy, and, finally, perseverance but at the end of the day, it has been worth it.
My office about two years ago
I began by following other blogs and making notes on what made them successful and eventually found a natural style that was best for me. Unfortunately, I have seen a lot of blogs come and go in the past six years, bloggers that ran out of ideas, lost interest in their blog, or for whatever reason, life got in the way. And some of those blogs were pretty darned good. But I wasn’t going to let that affect me.
The first two years were frustrating, to say the least, and I don’t know how many times I thought of quitting, but I hung in even though the number of views was, well, disappointing. I knew my content was interesting, certainly to me and I knew there were people out there who had a yearning to read and learn about mechanical clocks, so, I stuck with it. And, I am glad I did.
Case repair and restoration work area
As I have said elsewhere if you regularly use a lathe to cut gear teeth, re-pivot arbours, bush mainspring barrels on a weekly basis, fashion new wheels from raw stock or make advanced repairs on complicated movements and cases, this is probably not the place for you but you are welcome to leave any comments or suggestions or simply read one of my blog articles over a cup of coffee in the morning.
Seth Thomas #2 c. 1922
After six years I still consider myself a clock repair generalist though there is no denying that I continue to build my repertoire of clock repair and restoration skill. Judging from my mail I seem to appeal to those who are like-minded. I appreciate those who have stumbled onto my site looking for advice and guidance on a particular clock or clock repair issue.
Hamburg American Clock Co (HAC) mantel clock c.1908
But I especially appreciate comments and suggestions from regular viewers. And, yes, there is fan mail, most of it sent privately and I take great pleasure in responding to each and every query.
Ingraham Grecian c.1875
As I review articles that have the greatest number of views it seems clear to me that most of my visitors are looking for how-to and general information articles. That suits me just fine.
After six years I have developed an understanding of my audience and have managed to produce blog articles that seem to appeal to a wide range of people with an interest in horology.
Will I continue? Darn right, and as they say, the best is yet to come.
Every clock enthusiast has their own way of doing things and each has a different approach to clock restoration. Am I different? Not really, but I have put some thoughts to paper that you might find interesting.
Like everyone I started out knowing virtually nothing about clock restoration but learned as I went. As I gained confidence and improved my skillset I took on greater challenges.
Not long ago I bought a nice 30-hour non-running Chauncey Jerome ogee. I would not consider this clock a huge challenge but it will help explain my approach to clock restoration.
The case is from the 1840s and based on my research, the movement is from the same period. There are a few things wrong with it and that is expected from a 176-year-old clock.
Four Options
The clock case and movement are very dirty and the clock certainly has some issues but I am happy to report that a lot is original. It is on my bench. Now, what do I do with it?
I have four options:
Do nothing. Leave everything as-is, preserve the patina and display the clock without servicing the movement or cleaning the case.
Service the movement so that it is in running order but do nothing to the case, again preserve the patina.
Clean and refresh the case but leave the movement as-is.
Service the movement and clean the case, making small repairs if necessary.
Option 1. There are very few clocks where I would do absolutely nothing. If the movement is beyond my capability or requires a complex repair and the case requires extensive repairs or any intervention on my part will potentially make it worse, I will leave it alone.
Option 2. Not a good option for me. There is no point in servicing a movement if is going back into a dirty case and risk the movement becoming contaminated with dirt and debris.
Option 3 If the movement is beyond my capability or requires a complex repair I will leave it alone and proceed with cleaning the case.
Option 4. This is my preference. My end goal is minimal invasive intervention which means that I will service a movement and address wear issues where necessary. I will refresh the case if it is grimy and requires a good cleaning. I am not a strong believer in patina which one reader opined is just another word for dirt. As much as possible, I use original materials and techniques when working on the case. This includes the use of hot hide glue, traditional shellac (flakes mixed with shellac lacquer), and fasteners like old slot head screws, and square nails.
In rare cases where I am met with a significant challenge, I will perform a complete restoration with the goal of bringing the clock back to its original condition. I call this extreme restoration.
Here are two examples. Both of these clocks are running daily.
I believe that some amount of intervention is not only necessary but desired by collectors and I also believe that there are situations where a wholesale ground-up restoration is the only option.
In the case of this miniature Vienna Regulator cleaning and oiling the movement, and polishing the brass was the only intervention.
Miniature one-weight Vienna wall clock
My position regarding changes to a clock
My end goal is a functional clock that presents well. As far as I’m concerned a non-working clock must become a working clock because that is the nature of its existence.
If a clock has important provenance and extensive repairs to the movement and/or case alter it in a negative way and I will leave it alone.
And what does the ogee clock i mentioned in the beginning of this article look like now?
Restored Jerome ogee
I am sure you will agree that it is not a dramatic change at all but it is now a working clock that presents well.
In January 2017 I took a chance, plunked down $75 and bought a project clock which consisted of a box of clock parts.
Junghans clock in pieces (notice bottom finial)
I took it home, stared at the box for a while trying to figure out what to do and how far I would get with this project. I itemized the parts, arranging them on the case as best I could and put together a plan. At least I had something to go on when someone sent me the actual catalog image of the clock.
The clock is called the Crispi by Junghans, Ca. 1899. Junghans is a reputable German clock-maker that made all styles of clocks for over 100 years in Germany and continues in the watch business to this day.
There are subtle differences between my clock and the clock in the catalog but to the untrained eye it looks much the same.
What I did not change at the time was the bottom centre finial. Most who are familiar with clock case design would agree that the bottom centre finial is actually one of the top crown finials and was re-positioned in a previous repair. I left it as-is as I went about restoring the rest of the clock.
After completing a number of other clock projects during the Pandemic as well as addressing an errant strike issue with this clock, I decided it was time to replace the finial with something more in keeping with the original design.
Here is the clock (next photo) when I finished with the case. That bottom centre finial always bothered me but, as I said, I let it be.
This is a clock that I took to a professional clockmaker to have repaired in the days when I did not have the skills to service a clock.
It worked well for about two years or more and then the strike side became very erratic. It would either strike incorrectly on the half hour or strike until the mainspring wound down. I cannot blame the repairer as these movements can be finicky to work on but my knowledge of clock repair has improved such that I can better diagnose and repair most clock issues today.
The problem was twofold. One, the paddle was not quite in the correct position in the deep slot of the count wheel at the end of the strike and the strike paddle ended the strike sequence by hanging off one of the star points of the strike wheel.
It took several attempts through trial and error but eventually I was victorious and the movement now strikes correctly.
Top finial placed on the bottom by a past repairer
Now, let’s get back to the case. As you can see the clock had been returned to its former glory and is quite faithful to the original except for that bottom finial.
I chose a flat back unfinished 2 1/2″ by 2 3/4″ hardwood finial that is available from most clock parts suppliers. I matched the stain to the case and applied three coats of shellac. Using a drill press I made a hole to accommodate a piece of dowel in the base and finial to secure it to the lower base section. I applied yellow carpenters glue to secure it and here is the result. The cost to rectify it was minimal.
The shape, size and style is now appropriately suited to the case.
The seller had the clock in his family for many years, perhaps as long as the clock is old. Anyway, he would not budge from the $75 but he asked me to send a photo of the clock when it was completed. I did, and received no acknowledgement. I don’t think he ever thought it would look quite like this.
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