When my wife’s parents sold their home in a small town in Nova Scotia in 1996, they passed on a wall clock, which had been given to my father-in-law by a patient and had hung on the wall in the main hallway of their home, to his son, my wife’s brother. It has been in storage ever since then.
I hadn’t seen the clock in nearly 30 years though I have vivid memories. In the 1980s and 1990s, my wife and I would bring the kids to visit their grandparents on weekends. The clock would resonate throughout the house. It was unforgettable, by its loud ticking and the four-hammer strike marking the hour and half-hour.
Made by Mauthe, it is a 1930s-style German box clock, dark in color, reminiscent of one in my own collection. In fact, except for minor details on the case, it’s almost identical to mine.
German “box” clock by Mauthe, in my collection
My father-in-law loved the clock and had it for years, winding it without fail once a week. When it stopped, he would have someone local service it for him. He cherished it deeply, though I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps, as a doctor, he valued it as a thank-you gift from one of his patients, or maybe he simply had a passion for clocks.
Sadly, my father-in-law passed away in 2012, and my mother-in-law passed away this year. While settling the estate, my wife and her brother started communicating on a deeper level, and the subject of the clock came up. Would I fix it?
Not this clock but a similarMauthe movement
The clock has now been passed to me for repair. I picked it up in mid-June, and my first impression was that the case was in excellent shape for its age. While the case has minor nicks and scratches that can be easily addressed, the dial is rough. Otherwise, the movement appears intact with no missing or damaged parts.
Overall, I believe the clock is definitely worth restoring. Once I evaluate the clock further I can determine what needs to be done, make any necessary repairs to the movement, and the case, test the movement, and return it to my wife’s brother. To have it displayed prominently on a wall and running again would be a testament to my father-in-law’s memory.
Although I have other projects on the go and cannot tackle this project until the fall, I am pretty excited about working on this clock. It is a perfect candidate for restoration but more importantly, it has great sentimental value.
In future posts, I will describe a step-by-step process of revitalizing the case and another on servicing the movement.
From time to time, I enjoy reflecting on the progress of my projects after a certain period.
Five years ago I acquired a Scottish clock at auction, fulfilling my long-held desire to add an antique tall-case clock to my collection. Reflecting on it now, the decision to purchase the clock proved to be a wise one, as it has operated almost flawlessly except for a minor issue which I will detail later in this article.
The clock proudly graces a landing in our home. The location is interesting because it faces six steps that ascend to the upper level of our home. Four years ago, when I shared a photo of it on a clock forum site, someone warned me about the possibility of tripping on the stairs one early morning and colliding with the clock. Although it hasn’t occurred, the thought occasionally crosses my mind.
Scottish tall-case clock
A description of the clock
It boasts a classic Scottish design dating back to the late 1840s. Its removable bonnet spans 23 inches at its widest point, while the waist measures 15 3/4 inches wide, and the base is 20 inches wide. Tapered columns adorn either side of the bonnet, with the dial access door covering the entire bonnet and swinging to the right. The solid wood access door on the waist measures 9 x 24 inches.
Standing just under 90 inches tall, the clock nearly reaches the height of our 8-foot ceiling so placing it on the landing means there is plenty of clearance above it.
The well-preserved sheet iron white dial features painted spandrels depicting ewes with lambs, and a painted arch top showing a man resting on a rock with two working horses behind him, telling me that it might have been made for a wealthy Scottish sheep farmer.
A well-preserved dial
The cast-iron weights are 10 lbs 11oz and 11 lbs 3oz, with the heavier weight hung on the strike side. The pendulum and rod weigh 2 lbs 6oz, and the sheet iron dial is hefty at 5 lbs 3oz.
Although the movement plates are over 3mm thick, there is no visible maker’s mark. The robust movement, crafted in the Guild style, features an anchor escapement. These movements are commonly known as an “English bell strike”. Common in 19th-century England they were made by craftsmen who were members of guilds, such as The Worshipful Company of Clockmakers which exercised strict control over clock-making within a certain radius.
Time and strike movement (the spring on the lower left has been replaced)
The clock has a “false plate,” a cast-iron skeleton frame fastened to the front plate of the brass movement, with the dial attached to this frame. Stamped on the plate is “BIRMm,” referring to Birmingham, England, the birthplace of this time and strike movement.
The dial bears the names Wm McLachlan, Newton Stewart. Newton Stewart is a former burgh town in the historical county of Wigtownshire in Dumfries and Galloway, southwest Scotland.
William (Wm) McLachlan, a clock and watchmaker in Newton-Stewart, Wigtownshire, advertised his business for sale on May 25, 1852, as listed in David Whyte’s book, “Clockmakers & Watchmakers of Scotland 1453 to 1900.” That is the extent of my research on Wm McLachlan. Of course, I would love to learn more about this clockmaker.
McLachlan also worked as an assembler, sourcing cases, dials, and movements for his customers according to their preferences. Rather than constructing clocks entirely in his shop, McLachlan purchased necessary parts from various manufacturers, finishing and assembling them before placing his name on the dial. He might have either crafted the cases himself or commissioned craftsmen to provide them as needed. This was a common practice during that era.
Since McLachlan operated a clock business he along with apprentcies/assitants, undoubtedly provided servicing for clocks within the local area.
The morning sun reflecting on the dial
One curiosity eludes me to this day. Despite featuring a calendar hand on the clock face, there is no functional calendar mechanism integrated with the movement. This suggests two potential scenarios: firstly, that the movement and dial were paired and assembled without a calendar function, or secondly, that the movement itself is a replacement.
All is not perfect
While the clock is reliable and has been an excellent timekeeper it suffers from one small flaw. On day six of the weekly cycle, the clock stops. As the weights descend to the level of the pendulum a harmonic phenomenon occurs. A harmonic phenomenon is defined as “a vibratory body responding to external vibrations to which it has a harmonic likeness”.
When the weights on a tall clock descend to the point where it’s at about the same height as the pendulum, the weights swing slightly. Since the power that drives the pendulum is now swinging the weights as well, the pendulum is robbed of its share of power and eventually stops. While this problem typically doesn’t arise with a new tall case clock, it’s a common issue when a clock ages. Despite a thorough cleaning and servicing of the movement, it’s apparent that some wear still persists.
To minimize sympathetic vibrations, I have secured the upper part of the clock case to the wall behind using a cable and additionally, I have inserted two small sponge blocks between the back of the case and the wall, aligning them with the pendulum bob’s height.
Nevertheless, after months of continuous vibration from the strike side, the sponge blocks slowly descend below the bob’s level, leading to the clock’s aforementioned behaviour. I might have to consider permanently securing the blocks in place with glue, although I am not particularly enthusiastic about this solution.
Despite the minor inconvenience, the clock has proven to be a reliable timekeeper and retains its pristine appearance, just as it did when I completed its restoration in my workshop five years ago.
Antique wall clocks hold sentimental and aesthetic value, and preserving them often requires delicate restoration work. Purchasing replacement glass and securing it to a frame is one such restoration project.
Securing glass to the bezel of an antique clock can be achieved in several ways. It can be secured with tacks or clips or in the case of a metal bezel, brass tabs are soldered into the frame once the glass is in place. However, securing the glass to a wooden bezel can be more easily achieved by using Plaster of Paris.
Ansonia Extra Drop time-only wall clock(pendulum removed)
This versatile material, which can be found in any hardware store, when mixed with water, creates a durable and easy-to-use bonding plaster. In this step-by-step guide, we’ll walk you through the process of using Plaster of Paris to secure glass to the bezel of an antique wall clock.
Upon acquiring my Ansonia Extra Drop time-only clock, crafted in the early 1880s by the Ansonia Brass and Copper Company, I faced the challenge of its restoration as you can see in the following photo.
Trash or treasure?
Despite its seemingly hopeless condition, the clock retained its essential components, with the sole exception of the brass dial bezel. Although the movement was encrusted with dirt, it remained intact and presented a salvageable opportunity for restoration.
Time-only movement
After considerable sanding, rust removal, freeing of seized wheels, and subsequent bushing work, the movement miraculously began to run.
After a thorough cleaning
However, the glass was not securely fixed in its bezel and was temporarily held in place by tacks. I needed a more lasting solution to ensure the glass was firmly secured so, I opted for Plaster of Paris.
Except for the Plaster of Paris and the custom-cut glass, all the materials needed for this project are common items found in any household.
Materials Needed:
Plaster of Paris
Cold water
Mixing bowl
Stirring stick, spatula, putty knife
Correctly sized glass from a clock supplier
Paper towels or soft cloth
Sandpaper
Paint and brushes
Step 1: Detach the wood bezel from the clock case. Prepare the clock bezel by removing the glass and cleaning the bezel thoroughly. Use a soft cloth to wipe away any dust or debris. If the bezel has any imperfections, lightly sand the surface to create a smooth and clean area for the plaster.
Remove bezel
Step 2: Mix the Plaster of Paris. The instructions on the Plaster of Paris package call for a two-to-one mixture (two parts plaster to one part water) which is far too thin. I have found that three to one or more is optimal to achieve the right consistency. Mix the dry plaster with cold clean water in a bowl; it should be the firmness of a thick paste. Stir the mixture thoroughly until you achieve a smooth, lump-free consistency.
Step 3: Secure the glass onto the cleaned bezel. If the glass moves too much, use painter’s tape or masking tape to temporarily secure it in place. This will prevent the glass from shifting while applying the plaster.
No special tools are required
Step 4: Use a spatula or a one-inch putty knife (preferred) to carefully apply the plaster by spreading the mixture around the edges of the glass and onto the bezel. Ensure that the plaster is evenly distributed and covers the entire edge of the glass. Take your time to avoid air bubbles and uneven application. You have six to eight minutes of working time before the plaster begins to set.
Do not mix more material than can be used during the six to eight-minute period. However, if you have any left, simply find a hole in a nearby wall to patch.
Application of the plaster
Step 5: Once the plaster is applied, use a wet finger or a damp cloth to smooth and shape the edges. Pay close attention to the corners and make sure the plaster forms a neat, even seal between the glass and the bezel.
Step 6: Remove excess plaster before the plaster fully sets, by using a wet cloth and a putty knife to trim the edges. This will give the restoration a professional and polished appearance.
Allow to thoroughly dry
Step 7: Plaster of Paris hardens in about 30 minutes. Avoid disturbing the clock during this time to ensure a secure bond between the glass and the bezel.
Mixing acrylic water-based multi-surface paint
Step 8: Plaster of Paris is paintable.
Sanding the plaster before applying the paint
Touch up the bezel with paint. Aim to replicate the subtle hue of aged putty for a more authentic appearance.
Cure the Plaster of Paris for 24 hours before applying paint. Sand the rough areas with 200-grit sandpaper. Wipe down with a damp cloth. Apply the paint with an artist’s brush or equivalent. Allow the paint to dry completely before reassembling the clock.
Plaster of Paris in the bezel will contribute to a slight increase in weight, but the trade-off is enhanced rigidity.
The plaster is tinted to resemble aged putty
Using Plaster of Paris to secure the glass to the bezel of an antique wall clock is a straightforward and cost-effective process that, when done correctly, can not only keep the glass securely in place but will add to the clock’s appearance with the added benefit of enhancing the structural integrity of the glass within its bezel.
Following these steps will go a long way towards preserving the beauty of your antique clock for years to come.
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 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?
While I do not operate a clock business I have, in the past, worked on other people’s clocks.
The customer’s perspective and preferences are always paramount when it comes to repairing and restoring antique clocks. As an antique clock blogger and clock repairer, I believe it is crucial to respect and understand the wishes of the clock’s owner. Each customer may have their own unique vision for their clock, and it is important to provide them with options while also offering expert advice.
When working on a customer’s clock, it is customary to present various options for repairing the movement and addressing any case issues. While some clocks may have significant provenance or historical value, necessitating minimal intervention, others may benefit from repairs and cleaning to bring out their full potential. However, it is ultimately the customer’s decision on how they want their clock to be treated.
In a recent experience, I had the opportunity to work on a clock with a non-functioning movement and a beautifully designed case. When discussing the options with the customer, they expressed a desire to prioritize making the clock run and replacing the broken hands, while leaving the case untouched. Although I believed that cleaning the case and applying a fresh coat of shellac would enhance its appearance, I respected the customer’s wishes and proceeded accordingly.
1-day Ogee from the 1860s
In the realm of antique clocks, the customer’s satisfaction is of utmost importance. While as a clock restorer and enthusiast, I may have my professional opinions and recommendations, it is essential to remember that the customer’s vision and preferences take precedence. By offering different choices and providing expert guidance, we can ensure that the customer’s clock not only functions well but also aligns with their aesthetic sensibilities and personal attachment to its history.
Customer clock
The customer’s desires should be respected when working on antique clocks. While expert advice can be offered regarding repairs and restoration, the final decision lies with the customer.
By presenting various options and considering their input, a functional clock that meets their expectations and preserves the integrity of the clock’s history and design while preserving the relationship between the repairer and the customer is the ultimate goal.
While working on one of my latest acquisitions, a Junghans Hunsruck mantel clock, memories flooded back to the first Junghans clock I ever owned, a Junghans Crispi wall clock, that I still have to this day.
Junghans Hunsruck C. 1913
It was a humble box of parts when it first came to me, but I was determined to bring it back to life.
Junghans clock in pieces, not unlike a jigsaw puzzle
The restoration process was a hands-on experience where I had to fashion new parts, source missing pieces, and master the art of staining and gluing. Through this ground-up restoration process, I developed a deeper understanding of the craftsmanship and artistry that went into creating these old clocks.
Piece by piece, I painstakingly assembled the clock, learning about the inner workings and mechanics along the way. It required both patience and dedication, but in the end, it was worth it. The clock not only became a functional piece, but a treasured symbol of my passion for antique wall clocks.
A first examination of the movement
As I worked on my latest Junghans mantel clock refreshing the case and servicing the movement, I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey that led me to this point. Each clock I restore holds a special place in my heart, but that first Junghans clock will always hold a particularly special place. It was an affirmation of a lifelong passion for the timeless elegance of antique clocks.
The fascinating story behind the Crispi wall clock
The story behind the Junghans Crispi clock is the enduring power of objects that connect us to the past.
Junghans Crispi time and strike wall clock
In the midst of tragedy, there can be glimmers of hope and resilience. Such was the case with a Junghans Crispi wall clock that fell off a wall on Princess Court in North End Halifax on the fateful day of December 6, 1917. Despite the chaos and destruction caused by the Halifax Explosion, this clock managed to survive, albeit in a state of disrepair.
Following its century-long journey, the clock that had been treasured by the Halifax family for generations finally found its way into the hands of an avid antique clock collector.
Over the course of two months, I worked tirelessly to piece together the various components and restore the clock to working condition. It was no easy feat, but the end result was a stunning tribute to both the clock’s history and the resilience of the people of Halifax.
In a series of articles documenting the restoration process, I shared not only the technical details of the restoration but also the personal connection to this piece of history.
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.
An often-asked question is why should I repair an antique clock if the repair exceeds its value.
The decision to repair an antique clock if the repair exceeds its value ultimately depends on your personal attachment to the clock and its historical significance.
Let’s talk aboutsentimental value
If the clock has been in your family for generations or has sentimental value to you, repairing it may be worth the cost, even if it exceeds the clock’s current market value. Repairs might include restoration or significant repairs to the case but a working clock that presents well is the main objective. Having a ticking clock can add a touch of elegance and charm to a room, as well as provide a sense of history and provide an important connection to the past.
A clock with a homemade plywood case was worth the repair because of its family heritage
A clock that is rare is worth the repair if…
If the clock is rare or has historical significance, it may be worth repairing regardless of the cost. Some antique clocks may have been made by renowned clockmakers or may be associated with important historical events or figures, making them highly valuable.
Valuable antique clocks must be carefully repaired because they often have unique and irreplaceable pieces that require specialized knowledge and expertise to repair. Any repairs must be done in a way that preserves their originality and authenticity.
To repair certain clocks, it may be necessary to use rare and difficult-to-find components or even handmade parts. This highlights the importance of collaborating with a skilled and knowledgeable clock repair specialist who has access to these parts or can create them. Even a small error in repair can result in significant damage to the clock’s mechanism and timing, leading to a reduction in value.
Improper repairs can significantly reduce the clock’s value and historical significance. Valuable antique clocks can be fragile and delicate, with intricate mechanisms and delicate parts that require careful handling during the repair. Any damage to these parts can irreversibly damage the clock, leading to a loss in value.
Working with a qualified and experienced clock repair professional is essential to ensure that the clock is repaired correctly and maintains its value.
This Kienzle World Time clock has maintained its value
A clock as an investment
If you believe that the clock’s value may appreciate over time, repairing it may be a wise investment.
Clock collecting for investment purposes is a complex and potentially risky endeavor that requires a significant amount of knowledge, research, and expertise. While some antique clocks may appreciate in value over time, the market for antique clocks can be unpredictable, and there is no guarantee that a clock will increase in value.
Additionally, the cost of purchasing and maintaining a collection of antique clocks can be significant, and the potential return on investment may not justify the expense. Clock collecting for investment purposes should be approached with caution and with a thorough understanding of the market and the value of individual pieces.
Appreciate an antique clock for what it is
Antique clocks are often rare and unique, making them a great conversation starter. Guests may be intrigued by the clock’s history and design, leading to interesting conversations and the opportunity to share knowledge and stories.
On the other hand, if the clock has little sentimental or historical value and is unlikely to appreciate in value, it may not be worth repairing if the cost exceeds its current value. Ultimately, the decision to repair an antique clock should be based on a careful evaluation of its worth and your personal attachment to it.
A common bracket clock made by Junghans
Antique clocks have a sense of history and nostalgia that can be comforting and grounding. They remind us of the past and the craftsmanship that went into making these timepieces before the era of digital clocks and watches.
While antique clocks may not be as accurate as modern timepieces, they can still keep time and serve a practical purpose in a room.
I worked on the movement in the spring of 2022 and even at that point I was not sure what to do with the clock case. The tiny movement intrigued me and I wanted to have it running but the case – what a total disaster.
A tiny movement
Chauncey Jerome was a prolific clockmaker and a true pioneer of the early American clock. Despite his success in clock manufacturing from the late 1830s to the early 1850s, a number of poor business decisions led to bankruptcy in 1856, and the assets of the bankrupt Jerome Manufacturing Co. were purchased by the New Haven Clock Co.
The copper wire soldered to the movement is actually a homemade bushing
While Jerome was involved in numerous clock-making activities after his bankruptcy and marketed clocks under his name and label, Jerome & Co. is not one of those. “Jerome & Co.” was a tradename used by the New Haven clock company to cash in on the Jerome name. Chauncey Jerome never oversaw the production of this particular clock. Still, in some eyes, the fact that it is a “Jerome clock” means something.
These clocks were only a dollar or two in their day and nobody expected them to last forever. Given that it was likely made in the 1870s it has certainly had a long life.
The movement was cleaned and the worst holes including the copper wire thingy contraption were bushed.
Black dots indicate new bushings, note the solid wheel in the back of the movement
One look at it would tell anyone that the clock has been through many hands and the case is well worn. In fact, some would consider it one step away from being binned. But I am looking for a challenge and I think this is it.
There are veneer losses on the right side of the case, the bottom corners, and the top left. Most of the “gilt” around the front access door has worn off. There is a large age split on the top-right and the reverse-painted lower tablet has significant losses. It looks very depressing.
Despite numerous issues with the case, the movement is likely original, the hands probably original, and the dial as well though the pendulum bob is a replacement.
There are significant losses on the dial and it will take a bit of work to put it right. The case issues are not unexpected given the age of the clock but it has obviously not had a lot of care over the years
Given the present condition of the clock case, I am curious to see what I can do. One thing I know for certain is that any work on the case will be an improvement. We’ll see what I can come up with.
I have saved a few clocks that were one step closer to a garbage bin by taking an aggressive approach to clock case restoration. Is stripping a clock case a travesty?
Firstly, I am not a huge fan of gingerbread clocks which were very popular in America at the turn of the 20th century. Every major manufacturer made them and they sold like hotcakes. Thousands have survived and a quick perusal of online auction sites any day of the week will reveal dozens if not hundreds of them.
The designs were created by using high-pressure rotary presses on oak wood that had been pre-steamed to soften it.
Auction photo
Gingerbread clocks are quite large for a shelf clock and generally unattractive, in my opinion. The only other gingerbread I have, besides the Sessions clock which is the subject of this article, is an Arthur Pequegnat Canuk 8-day time and strike added to my collection in 2019. The Canuk is nicely balanced, well-proportioned, and mildly attractive for a gingerbread clock.
The Sessions Grand Assortment #1, is the ugly duckling of the clock world.
Arthur Pequegnat Canuk
The design of the top is not consistent with the side rails and the base. The crown looks overbearing. It is not very well-balanced and out of proportion but it was the style of the time and thousands upon thousands were sold.
This clock was acquired as part of an auction lot and was relatively inexpensive. I plan to revitalize the case and service the movement but I am not sure at this point whether or not it is worth keeping.
What to do with the case? Here are two shots of the case, the base, and the crown.
Base section
The mottling is what some call alligorating. Over time heat, moisture (stored in an attic or garage), dust, and dirt cause the shellac to coagulate into lumps or globules similar to the skin of an alligator. It is not fun to remove and drastic measures are required to put right.
Crown section
In the past when met with a similar situation I have tried a number of approaches; lacquer thinner, sanding, alcohol, a mixture of cleaners, and so on but the only way to get rid of it entirely is to strip the case. Does stripping diminish the value of a clock? Perhaps, but if done correctly it might even enhance its desirability.
Grand Assortment
The photo above shows a Grand Assortment I worked on in 2019. Obviously, someone added the colouring to the tablet making it somewhat worse rather than better. I cleaned the case of dirt and grime but left the finish as-is. This one has darkened with age but it looks acceptable.
For my Grand Assortment, the only thing that remains is a very aggressive approach. So, off to the shop it goes.
Hmm, is it a Grand Assortment #1 or #1 in an Assortment of Grand clocks?
Should antique clock cases be refinished or rejuvenated? It can be a judgement call. I am all for patina and preserving an old clock case but there are times when certain amount of intervention is practical from an aesthetics and resale point of view.
There is a certain philosophical argument among collectors who believe on the one hand that any intervention is sacrilegious while others feel that some amount of intervention may be necessary to preserve an antique clock.
Auction photo
I won this Hamilton Clock Company 30-hour ogee clock at auction in the spring of 2022 and only now have had a chance to work on it.
I was not specifically looking for a 30-hour ogee as I have 6 already (and who needs another 30-hour clock) but as this clock was made in Hamilton Ontario, Canada it is special to me as adding Canadian clocks is a prime goal as a collector.
Auction photo showing the lower acid etched tablet
A brief history
The company was established in 1876, after the failure of the Canada Clock Company (version 1) in Whitby, Ontario. Using a new factory building and the original production machinery the second company, the Hamilton Clock Co. was formed by three principles, James Simpson, George Lee, and J. F. Collins.
The Hamilton Clock Company made a valiant effort to provide clocks for the Canadian market, in competition with the huge U.S. clock factories in Connecticut that already dominated the market.
Ogee clocks were manufactured at Hamilton, and these were identical in construction to those that had been made at Whitby with veneered pine cases. After four years the company went bankrupt but was shortly resurrected as the Canada Clock Company (version 2), again using the same Hamilton production facilities. Clock production ended in the mid-1880s and it was not until a new Canadian-owned clock company emerged in 1904 (the Pequegnat Clock Co.) in Berlin, Ontario that Canadian-made clocks resumed production.
It is tempting to group the three companies into one, but the design focus of each company separated them from each other, the early company focused on 30-hour movements and simply styled mantel clocks while 8-day wall clocks and more ornate mantel clocks were a feature of the later company.
The case
Yes, it is dulled and tired and it has had a rough life. These clocks are handed down from one owner to the next and in the process they undergo changes. Some of the changes are reversible and some are not. Luckily this clock can be revived and brought back to life.
There are veneer losses, particularly on the two upper corners and the trim strip along the right side. The bottom strip is missing completely. So the challenge is to replace missing veneer with new and old stock but the end result is not always perfect.
Nothing is perfect. Antique and vintage clocks often suffer the ravages of time and neglect and a neglected old clock is far more difficult to bring it back to life if it is missing crucial parts or repairs have been crude and haphazard. Improper restoration can significantly decrease or destroy the value of some pieces. However, the repair of a botched restoration might be the right choice in certain circumstances.
A complete clock is always the first thing I am looking for when adding new clocks to my modest collection. Dealbreakers are usually broken and irreplaceable tablets, replacement movements, missing crowns or toppers, and unreadable (ruined) dials. A clock that is complete and not altered is always preferable to a clock that someone has “worked on”.
Junghans Crispi wall clock: A ground-up restoration with many new parts, however, it is a functioning clock that shows well
I may consider clocks that have a refinished case if the standard of refinishing is high. I am almost never opposed to cleaning a clock of grime and dirt and applying a coat of traditional shellac (if needed) if that was the original finish or remediating minor veneer issues. A missing finial can always be replaced with a suitable alternative, clock hands can be replaced and some clock movement parts that have worn out can be purchased from a variety of sources.
Does the total restoration of a Junghans Crispi wall clock (above) with many new parts some of which are not faithfully reproduced have value? Perhaps not, but the buyer might be pleased with the end result.
One might argue that any change can devalue a clock but most collectors I know are content with making subtle alterations to the clocks they work on if it means improving the look of the clock, putting it in running order, and presenting it as more desirable for resale.
I recently read a very interesting article (no link due to a paywall) that posited that in select cases reproduction parts may not devalue an antique clock and in fact, might enhance its value if the parts were made exactly the same with the original machinery.
Not the $20k clock but a clock made by Ithaca Clock Co. C.1865 (NAWCC clock museum Columbia Penn.)
The clock mentioned in the article is an Ithaca double-dial calendar clock that sold at auction for close to $20,000 despite eleven “new” reproduction parts. The photo above shows an example of another clock made by the Itaca Co. in the 1860s.
I was intrigued by the repair and the article went on to mention the work of Joel Warren. Mr. Warren operates a business called Ithaca Calendar Clocks Co. The company specializes in making reproduction pieces for Ithaca clocks. Mr. Warren has a past association with the Ithaca company and possesses the original circa 1895 shaping machine, knives, and tooling from the company. He can reproduce arches, circles, and ovals of varying lengths and widths.
Back to the question: do reproduction parts devalue a clock? The answer as you would expect is yes, no or it depends. Two experts looking at the same clock might agree that the quality of the restoration might enhance a clock’s value but disagree as to the extent of restoration particularly if the restoration goes too far when most or all of its original components are replaced. Is it then the same object?
Case in Point
In what circumstances is the repair of a botched restoration the right choice? A bad repair or restoration of the case might be irreversible but structural repairs should be addressed.
I won a Scottish tall-case clock at auction 3 years ago. It was a relatively inexpensive acquisition but the clock came with a number of issues. I won’t go into the repair of the movement but a lot of work went into rectifying the strike side.
There were issues with the case but the main problem was a detached backboard. The broken backboard (held on by crudely applied modern finishing nails) certainly made it easier to transport the clock in my station wagon because it fell off when I attempted to move the clock. I knew that it had to be repaired otherwise the bonnet would not be stable.
Scottish tall-case clock with broken backboard
I first had to strengthen the side mounts with high-strength hide glue and slotted screws salvaged for an old clock case. It was not enough to screw the backboard which was in two sections into the side rails so, I fashioned a cross brace of salvaged pieces from an old 140-year-old ogee clock.
Re-attached backboard with cross bracing
The structural repair was necessary because a previously unstable backboard is now much stronger and able to support the bonnet.
Other than cleaning the case and dial and applying two coats of traditional shellac to the wood surfaces the front of the case is as found.
On display
Nothing is perfect but some flaws can be addressed with minimal intervention without taking too much away from an antique clock and might even enhance its value.
This 30-hour shelf clock (hour strike) was manufactured by American clock-maker E. Ingraham and Co. in the 1870s. There are various iterations of the name over the maker’s history but this was the one the company used from 1861 to 1880.
The clock was bought at auction in mid-March 2022 along with 3 other clocks. In this post, I will take the reader through the process of refreshing the case.
Auction photo
This is an excellent example of a tired case that needs attention. When I look at a clock case such as this I assume the movement is well worn but a pleasant surprise awaited.
The movement is in surprisingly good condition as a result of regular (somewhat) servicing over the years. It has been in the shop at least three times, 1879, 1916, and 1994 according to dates found on the back of the case and perhaps more occasions that are not recorded.
Analysis of the caseand plan of action
The gold banding on the front face of the “octagon top” and the inside frame of the access door has some losses and the goal is to hide the nicks with gold artist’s paint matched to the trim. First of all, it is not a true octagon but half of one, but that is how these clocks are described.
The overall finish is in fair condition. Numerous cosmetic issues such as scratches and nicks here and there over the rosewood case are evident, but a good cleaning with soap and water followed by a fresh coat of shellac should fill in the scratches and improve things dramatically.
Auction photo showing nicks and scratches
The dial shows considerable wear after years of daily use and this is a situation where a replacement paper dial might be considered but I am always hesitant because replacement dials take a certain something away from and antique clock.
However, I am going to see what I can do by attempting to bring the numbers back with black acrylic paint while retaining some of the patina.
The moon hands look correct for the period of the clock.
As a collector who has seen a good number of these styles of clocks, I first thought the access door glass was a replacement since many clocks from the early to late 19th century had reverse painted tablets.
Because of the decorative pendulum and the bright brass bell both meant to be seen, the stylized panel that serves as the base for the dial, the total absence of any paint remnants, the glass panel with its waviness and various imperfections plus the putty-like material that is used to mount the glass to the door, the glass appears to be original to the case. A pleasant surprise!
It is always a bit of a disappointment when something is lost or changed on an antique clock especially one that is close to 150 years old and when replacement parts are difficult to source.
No doubt some of the scratches on the case, dents, etc. (not all, of course) are the result of rough handling either when transporting the item to the auction house or during its stay.
Addressing issues with the case
The very first step is a good cleaning. Cleaning a clock will generally result in the removal of some of its protective finish but it is inevitable given that it has been on the clock a long time.
Auctionphoto
For old American clocks I generally use traditional shellac made by combining shellac lacquer with shellac flakes. Amber Shellac adds a certain hue to the case and the cut is light enough that it dries to the touch in less than a minute which is my preference.
When there are large flat surfaces I will use a “french polish” but for this project, a broad artist’s brush is best. I apply the shellac in long strokes completing each section at a time.
The decorative black wood panel that serves as the dial mount is also shellacked allowing for small scratches to fill in very nicely.
The original paper dial is well worn and presents significant challenges as all the numbers on the dial are either partially worn off or completely erased. This was a well-used clock!
Top and bottom lines of the numerals are filled in
Using an artist’s fine-tipped brush, black multi-surface acrylic paint, and a steady hand I filled in as much as I could. The numbers around the winding arbours were the worst because I had little to work with and they were the most difficult to reproduce.
Once all the Roman numerals were completed and thoroughly dry, I used a Sharpie fine-tip “artist’s permanent marker” and a straight edge to clean up the lines. I decided not to touch up the chapter ring other than the 5-minute markers. I am not entirely happy with the number 4 on the dial but that’s as far I am going.
Closer view of the dial
As for the gold trim on the face, I did not want to mess with the patina, nor did I wish to cover the gold which would have completely taken away from the antique look. I mixed acrylic multi-surface gold paint and a very small dab of black paint for an “aged” effect and used a fine-tipped artist’s brush to carefully dab the bare areas.
Finally, the brass bezel and inner ring were given a polishing.
The clock is complete
The clock has been transformed. The dial has been rejuvenated, the movement serviced and reinstalled, the bell gong attached, the case given its many touch-ups, and the decorative pendulum is attached. Now to regulate the clock.
In the final analysis, I believe that I have struck the balance every collector and restorer seeks and that is maintaining the original patina of the clock while not taking away its antique look. It is 145 year old antique that has seen good use over the years but applying modern techniques that are minimally invasive have brought it back to life.
I have one more decision to make. I acquired this and three other clocks to sell in order to offset the cost of new equipment but now that I have seen the final result I wonder!
In November 2015, I added an Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf “fan top” to my collection. The clock was advertised as non-running, and the seller’s description was accurate—it had its share of challenges. While gingerbread-style kitchen clocks don’t typically appeal to me, I felt that, as a Canadian, if I were to own one, it should be a Pequegnat.
This clock dates back to the Berlin era (before 1917, when Berlin was renamed Kitchener, Ontario) and features the signature nickel-plated steel plates with brass bushings, characteristic of most time-and-strike Pequegnat clocks.
Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf Kitchen Clock
The clock is complete with its Maple Leaf bob, an original untouched dial, most of its label, and a remarkably well-preserved maple leaf decal on the front glass.
Berlin Ontario label, mostly intactMaple Leaf bobMaple Leaf decal
I managed to get the clock in beat by adjusting the verge, but the minute arbor is quite loose, causing the minute and hour hands to stay stationary. Instead of attempting a full repair on my own, I’m considering having the clock professionally serviced. In the meantime, I plan to remove the movement from the case to examine the issue further. It could be a simple fix—or something more complex.
The mottled finish on the entire case
The case poses another challenge. While it has no chips, cracks, or missing pieces, the seller believed the mottled finish added character. I strongly disagree—it’s far from appealing.
To gather restoration ideas, I shared this clock on theNAWCC forum site. Although the finish might be original, it appears the clock was stored in a hot environment, causing the finish to degrade. As one forum member explained, “The case was likely subjected to heat (stored in the attic), and the shellac finish has melted into the alligatored appearance you see now.” When shellac softens, it attracts airborne dirt, further compromising the surface.
Although I’m capable of refinishing the case, the movement also requires repair. After inspecting it, I’ve realized the cost of professional repairs is currently beyond my budget. However, I plan to educate myself on servicing antique clocks and intend to handle the repairs myself.
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
You must be logged in to post a comment.