Looking around my home today, I can count twelve Arthur Pequegnat clocks, but the Brandon II will always be the most important one. It was the first Pequegnat clock I ever bought, and the one that started me down the Pequegnat road.
Arthur Pequegant Brandon II
This particular clock is a Brandon II. The first edition was produced up to 1916, and although the two versions look very similar, the second edition was made from 1917 until production ended in 1941. I wish I knew the exact year mine was made, but that’s hard to determine since there are no identifying marks on the movement, the label, or the case to date it. Between the two, I prefer the cleaner look of the second version.
Brandon 1
The Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company made clocks in Kitchener, Ontario from 1903 to 1941, and the Brandon was one of their more popular models. You would most often find one hanging in a Canadian schoolroom in the 1930s or 1940s, or in an office where a reliable, no-nonsense clock was needed. It’s an octagonal short-drop, time-only schoolhouse clock — simple, practical, and built to last. The first edition had the same overall dimensions but featured a more ornate frame around the dial bezel.
Schoolhouse clocks were usually time-only because schools already had bells or alarms to signal the start of class, recess, and the end of the day. In an office environment, a striking clock sounding every hour would likely have driven everyone to distraction. Some Brandon clocks were also fitted with calendars, which would have been useful in either setting.
Brandon II with a calendar function
Both the quarter-sawn oak case and the brass movement were made by the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company in their Kitchener factory right up until 1941, when brass shortages during the Second World War forced the company to stop production rather abruptly.
The time-only movement is quite simple, with relatively few gears and not much to go wrong. It was designed to be reliable and durable — a clock that could survive years of schoolrooms, offices, and daily winding without complaint.
Arthur Pequegnat Brandon time-only movement, simple but durable
I bought this clock from a local antique collector who had owned it for a number of years and eventually decided to sell it in his antique shop in Great Village, Nova Scotia. The price was reasonable, and since I had always wanted a Pequegnat schoolhouse clock, I brought it home.
The case is in excellent condition, and the dial and bezel are also very nice. The clock would run and keep reasonably good time, but it had an annoying squeak that clearly meant something wasn’t quite right. After taking a closer look, I discovered the first wheel had considerable pivot hole wear — the kind of repair that was beyond my tools and abilities in 2015.
So, the movement made a trip to a horologist in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where it was properly serviced. Five bushings were installed, the mainspring was cleaned, and the movement was oiled. It wasn’t an inexpensive repair, but in my view it was a worthwhile investment. Now, after ten years of running, it is time to take a look at the movement again and check for any wear. This time, my tools are at the ready!
Related Articles
My short video on Pequegnat clocks in my collection; As regular readers know, I have been a passionate collector for 15 years, I take great joy in repairing and restoring old clocks. My collection has grown to 85 unique timepieces, each with its own story.
The Pequegnat story and the Maple Leaf series of kitchen clocks; The Pequegnat name may not be familiar to international readers, but it was a significant Canadian clock company that manufactured both movements and cases beginning in the early 20th century.
I wrote recently about a two-weight Gustav Becker regulator wall clock that my wife bought for me in 2016. It was sold as a “project clock.” While the case presented its own challenges, the real difficulties lay in the movement.
Gustav Becker Vienna Regulator
At the time, I was unfamiliar with Gustav Becker movements and only gradually realized that several key components were missing, likely harvested by a previous owner. One such part was the star wheel—an early lesson in the fact that Gustav Becker made design changes over time, and that parts are not always interchangeable.
After unsuccessfully attempting to source correct replacement parts, I ultimately replaced the original 1902 movement with a complete 1918 P27 movement. That movement has run reliably for more than nine years, making the recent strike failure described here not unexpected.
The clock began stopping intermittently during the warning phase, with the warning lever appearing to bind at the stop-wheel pin. Given the movement’s long service interval and the absence of obvious damage, the symptoms point toward accumulated wear rather than a sudden component failure.
The movement is now fully disassembled and awaiting the next steps. In this blog article, the focus will be on cleaning and initial inspection for wear. In a post to follow, I will document bushing work, reassembly, and testing required to restore reliable strike operation before returning the movement to the case.
When I first received the replacement movement, I inspected it and found everything to be in good order, with no appreciable wear. I cleaned the parts in my ultrasonic cleaner; however, at the time, I did not completely disassemble the winding drums, as I believed there was no need to do so. On this occasion, the winding drums must be disassembled, as the cables are becoming frayed just outside the drum, requiring access to the knotted ends.
Winding drum with gear wheel and spring removed
I inspected the braided cables and, rather than replace them, decided to reuse them. Although cutting off the knot at the barrel end will shorten the cables slightly, re-knotting the hook ends (the bottom of the movement) will restore them to their original length, so the run time should not be affected.
Mixing up winding drum parts might not be an issue, but safer to separate them
In the ultrasonic, I kept the winding drum parts separate. They may be interchangeable, but at this point, I’m not taking any chances. Interestingly, over a dozen parts make up each drum, most of which were taken apart for cleaning. I saw no need to disassemble the click spring, however. Once all the parts are out of the ultrasonic and dried thoroughly, the first step is to reassemble the winding drums and their cables, and set them aside for now.
Now that the movement is clean and the pivot holes have been pegged, it is time to turn our attention to the action of the gears. I first assembled and tested the time side and could find no perceptible wear. It’s a pretty simple setup with only 3 wheels: the second larger wheel, the third wheel, and the escape wheel. There are also 3 wheels on the strike side ending with the fly/governor. On the strike side, I can find some lateral movement of the pivots on the count wheel front and back plate, and the stop wheel, back, and possibly the front plate.
With the inspection complete, attention turned to the strike side, where the expected story revealed itself. Wear at several pivot holes was evident, the kind of wear you expect to find in a P27 movement that has been doing its job for well over a century. So, there is work to be done.
Did I wait too long? Yes, perhaps 9 years is a bit too long an interval between servicing points. None of it was alarming, but it does help explain some of the strike-related issues observed earlier. Addressing these worn areas will be an important next step, not only to improve performance but to give the strike train the freedom and reliability it needs for years to come.
In 2016, my wife gifted me a two-weight Gustav Becker regulator wall clock. It was a much-appreciated gift, and I spent many hours restoring it, as it had been sold as a “project clock.” The case certainly had its issues, but the most challenging problems lay in the movement itself.
At the time, I was not familiar with Gustav Becker movements, and it did not immediately occur to me that several key components were missing—almost as if a previous owner had harvested parts for another clock. One example was the absence of the star wheel. I contacted the seller, who kindly sent several replacement parts, including a star wheel. Unfortunately, it did not fit.
Missing star wheel, which should be just below the minute wheel
It was then that I learned Gustav Becker had made design changes to these movements over time, meaning that not all parts are interchangeable. It appears the star wheel was sourced from a later model.
That led me to source a replacement movement, which I was able to obtain through an eBay seller. The price was more reasonable than I expected, and the movement arrived intact. Initially, I thought I could harvest parts from it for the original movement; however, as I had already learned with the star wheel, some parts did not fit.
Using replacement parts in antique clocks presents a number of challenges beyond simple fit and function. Even when parts appear correct, subtle differences in design, dimensions, or period manufacturing can affect performance and reliability.
From a collector’s perspective, non-original or mismatched components may also impact a clock’s historical authenticity and, in some cases, its market value. For the restorer, this often requires balancing mechanical integrity and long-term usability against the desire to preserve originality as much as possible. Of course, to the casual observer, the clock appears original.
I ultimately decided to abandon the 1902 movement and use the 1918 P27 one instead. The 1918 movement has been running flawlessly for the past 9 plus year and that is why the issue I am describing in this post surprises me. Or, should it!
Most people would be inclined to dismiss the problem by simply restarting the clock, which is what I initially did, but several hours later, the clock stopped again.
The problem is this: the warning lever, which drops into the warning wheel to stop the strike in warning, seems to freeze intermittently. For proper function, the strike release lever is lifted by the minute wheel pin to release the warning lever. I believe the issue occurs at the stop-wheel pin, where it appears to bind or stick. When I manually lift the warning lever to release the stop wheel, the strike train will run for a while, then stick again.
When I disassembled the movement, I checked for broken or bent teeth, bent pins, and the general condition of the pivots. Everything appeared to look good. However, given that the clock has been running for a long period, the issue now seems more consistent with wear than with a sudden component failure.
One issue could be that excess endshake may be allowing the stop wheel to move fore and aft, altering how the stop pin engages the warning lever. Additionally, many weight-driven warning levers rely purely on gravity for return; any increase in friction can cause the lever to hesitate or become caught on the edge of the pin. For these reasons, I believe this is a general wear issue rather than a broken or failed component.
By way of comparison, the average American-made movement produced a century ago could often continue to run reasonably well despite significant wear, whereas German movements—built with tiny pivots and very close tolerances—tend to be far more sensitive to wear, dirt, and minor loss of power. This difference should perhaps not be unexpected.
The movement is currently disassembled and, after many years of service, likely requires bushing work.
In short, the symptoms point to accumulated wear rather than a specific failed part. The movement will therefore receive full bushing work where needed, followed by a thorough cleaning, reassembly, and testing on the stand. Only once the strike operates consistently and reliably under full weight will the movement be returned to the case.
As the holiday season approaches, it’s wise to be familiar with some key terms if you’re considering purchasing an antique or vintage clock as a gift for that special person. One such term that often needs clarification is “serviced.”
I remember scrolling through Facebook one afternoon when a post caught my eye—a 100+-year-old mantel clock for sale, proudly labeled “fully serviced.” Naturally, my curiosity got the better of me. I messaged the seller, asking what exactly he meant by “fully serviced.”
His answer was simple: the clock had been ultrasonically cleaned, the pivots inspected, and it had been oiled. That sounded reasonable… until I realized he didn’t actually say the movement had been disassembled before cleaning.
I silently hoped it had been done properly, though in the clock world, more often than not, a “cleaned” movement is nothing more than a quick dunk-and-swish—a full plunge into cleaning solution and a hopeful shake and dry. No reputable horologist would ever call that true servicing. I didn’t pursue the clock any further, although it’s quite possible that it had indeed been “fully” serviced, as he claimed.
Newly acquired Waterbury mantel clock and ready for complete servicing
Yet the term “fully serviced” carries weight. Sellers know it can push the price up by many dollars. A clock that hasn’t been cleaned in years might still run smoothly for a while, but the real question is: what’s happening to the pivots? The pivot holes? The hidden wear in a clock that’s survived a century? Chances are, it’s been patched together before, perhaps without the care it deserved.
From my own experience, the older a clock is, the more likely it is to need bushings and careful repairs.
My idea of a full service is meticulous and follows this procedure:
Remove the movement from its case,
Completely disassemble the movement,
Ultrasonically clean every component, separating out parts that should not be cleaned in an ultrasonic
Unwind and inspect the springs, or if weight-driven, the wheels and cables,
Polish the pivots,
Peg pivot holes,
Install bushings where needed,
Check every part for wear,
Reassemble,
Test,
Regulate and adjust, if necessary,
And, finish with a gentle case refresh.
Separating out parts that should not be cleaned in an ultrasonic
I generally do not put leather hammer heads in the ultrasonic cleaner. I also avoid putting mainsprings in, though I have done so once or twice. If anything, it makes the solution unusable for further cleaning. There is also a chance one might not extract all the moisture from the coils leading to the formation of rust (though I suppose placing them in a cook oven on low heat should remedy that). Floating balances and balance wheels should also be kept out as they are delicate and risk being damaged. Any lacquered components should be avoided as well, since the ultrasonic cleaner will strip the lacquer away unless that is the intention. Likewise, any parts that are soldered should not be placed in the cleaner, as the agitation can fatigue the joints.
My Experience
I’ve seen clocks tell their stories through wear. Some years back, a 1920s Sessions Beveled No. 2 came to me needing twelve bushings. The Maple Leaf kitchen clock in my collection, professionally serviced in 2015, also needed twelve bushings.
Arthur Pequegnat kitchen clock
A 1940s Ingersoll Waterbury wasn’t too badly worn, yet it still required three bushings. Each clock reveals its life through the work it needs—a silent testimony to the decades it has kept time.
Ingersoll-Waterbury time and strike mantel clock
Confusion among sellers
Browsing online, you see phrases like “all of our clocks are fully serviced and tested to ensure reliable running.” But rarely do sellers say how they serviced it, or whether it was completed by a professional horologist or a backyard hobbyist.
As for my Juba Schatz mantel clock that I offered for sale—some might have called it ‘serviced,’ yet all I did was remove the movement, inspect the pivots, oil it, and return it to its case. Ten minutes. That’s the gap between reality and the magic words ‘fully serviced”. Don’t worry, I didn’t advertise it as such.
Juba Schatz mantel clock
To me, selling a clock as fully serviced should mean being transparent. A proper description might read:
“This clock has been fully serviced, the movement completely disassembled, ultrasonically cleaned, wear addressed, reassembled and tested.”
A bit more detail, like repairs or bushings replaced, adds credibility—but for a serious buyer, that’s about as close as you need to get.
Fully serviced means different things to different people. My advice? Always ask. Dig a little deeper. Because in the end, a clock is more than metal and springs—it’s a story, and the best stories deserve care.
Some time ago, I came across an ad on Facebook Marketplace for a clock owned by an older couple who lived about forty-five minutes from our home on the East Coast. When I first saw the photo, something about the clock caught my eye—it had character, a quiet dignity, and I had a feeling it might be special. I reached out to the seller through Facebook, and after a brief phone conversation, we agreed on a price that he felt was fair.
E Ingraham Huron Circa 1878
Finding their home wasn’t straightforward. We took a few wrong turns, but eventually found our way to a modest single-wide house nestled in the woods about twenty minutes from a larger coastal town. It was the kind of home that had clearly been lived in for decades.
A man in his early seventies greeted us at the door with a polite smile tinged with sadness. As we stepped inside, he excused himself and disappeared for a moment, returning with the clock in his hands. I asked him why he had decided to sell it, especially since he mentioned it had belonged to his grandmother and had been in his family for as long as he could remember.
He paused before answering, his eyes drifting toward the window. “My wife and I have decided to go our separate ways,” he said softly. “She wants to live in town, but I can’t bring myself to leave this place. Everything I care about is here—my shop (which was larger than his house!), my tools, my memories, but we have to get rid of some stuff”.
As he spoke, it became clear that the clock was more than just an heirloom—it was a piece of his past, a witness to the life he had built in that home. Letting it go wasn’t just about making space; it was about closing a chapter.
I examined the clock carefully, noting that it was complete and in good condition. “I’ll take it,” I said with a smile. Just inside the case, I noticed a penciled marking that read “Hebb and 1944.” The seller recalled a Hebb family who once lived in the Bridgewater area of Nova Scotia, near where I purchased the clock — perhaps a clock tinkerer.
“Okay,” he replied, then hesitated for a moment before adding, “Would you happen to be interested in Elvis Presley memorabilia?”
I glanced over at my wife, who was already trying not to laugh. The question caught us both off guard—we couldn’t have been less interested in that sort of thing, but his earnestness made the moment oddly endearing.
Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co.
It is a rosewood-veneered Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co., Bristol, Connecticut. It features a paper-on-zinc dial with a round glazed door and a lower glass access panel. The Huron is one of the less commonly found Ingraham models of the period, having been manufactured briefly between 1878 and 1880. The maker’s label remains intact on the inside of the backboard. The clock has a brass, eight-day, spring-powered movement and stands 16 inches tall.
The veneers are in excellent condition, with no splitting or cracking. The clock face shows a build-up of grime, which I chose to leave as is. The base corner pieces show slight wear, but both door catches are sound. The glass is perfect, the door hinges are in excellent condition, and both the upper and lower doors still fit with precision. The pendulum retains its original lacquer and presents well. Before examining the movement, a gentle push of the pendulum suggested that something was amiss.
Once I extracted the movement from its case, it was certainly not without its issues. There was plenty of solder applied here and there—evidently, a past repairer believed that the more solder, the better. During restoration, all traces of it were carefully removed, and the movement was thoroughly cleaned and brought back to full working order.
The movement was not without its issues
I’ve often said that if the day ever comes when I’m compelled to downsize my collection, this would be one I’d keep. Not for its rarity or provenance, but because it embodies everything I admire in a clock—the craftsmanship, the quiet dignity, and the enduring beauty of something well made and lovingly preserved, and the story that became part of it.
Ingraham Huron shelf clock
In the end, it’s pieces like this that remind me why I collect—not to own more clocks, but to honour the skill and spirit of those who built them, one tick at a time.
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.
Almonte, Ontario, (Canada) is a town that practically invites you to slow down and explore, and that’s exactly what my wife and I did one afternoon in September. In fact, it is called “The Friendly Town”. We drifted from one antique shop to another, discovering all sorts of curiosities. But in one store, I found something that stopped me in my tracks—a stately Waterbury time and strike mantel clock. It felt like uncovering a hidden story, and I couldn’t resist bringing it home.
There are many antique stores in Almonte, but this is where the clock was purchased
I was drawn to the open escapement and porcelain dial—features that are relatively rare in a common American clock.
Untouched and before a cleaning
At first glance, it looked intact, but after posting the clockon a popular clock collectors’ website, I was informed that the case appeared to be missing the lower parts of the columns. I asked the poster to supply a photo for comparison. In the meantime, I carefully examined the case myself and did not find any anchor points or residual glue traces that would suggest something had originally been attached there.
However, further research revealed that there were indeed trim pieces under the columns. This photo, taken from the 1909–10 Waterbury Clock catalog, shows the complete clock. You will note that in 1909–10, the clock was listed at $23.00, slightly more than a typical middle-class worker’s weekly wages in 1910.
The clock is called the “Suffolk”, as shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury bookon page 270 (and the catalog photo above). It is cased in Mahogany, has an 8-day movement, and has a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. It has a six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial with spade and spear hands, and a visible or open escapement. It features a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15 1/2 inches and is 11 3/4 inches wide with wooden biscuit feet.
As an aside, Waterbury also produced a Suffolk model in 1891, which is entirely different from this clock.
The poster said that it is also shown in the 1915 catalog. The patent date on the movement plate is September 1898, so it is quite possible that Waterbury offered the movement for this and other models for a number of years.
When I first looked over the movement, I could see it had been well cared for, still showing a bright, clean finish. But then I noticed something odd: the pendulum was hooked directly onto the crutch. That explained everything—of course, the clock wouldn’t run! It was likely this simple issue that led the seller to list it ‘as is,’ and therefore at a better price.
While trying to think of a way to make a new suspension spring and rod, I thought, why not check the bottom of the case? Sure enough, the original suspension spring and rod had been tucked into a crevice at the inside bottom of the case.
With the suspension rod attachedand the gong in place
After installing the suspension spring and rod, I wound the movement, gave the pendulum a gentle push, and to my relief, the clock sprang to life. I’m holding off on letting it run too long until I oil the pivots. Once that’s done, I’ll let it run for a while to see if it can make a full 8-day cycle. After that, it will be set aside for proper servicing.
Despite the missing lower trim pieces and the slight chipping around the number 12 on the porcelain dial, it remains a very nice clock and is reasonably well-preserved.
From the tucked-away suspension spring & rod to the moment the pendulum first swung, it reminded me how even the simplest details can make all the difference in getting a clock to run. While it will eventually need a full servicing, seeing it come to life again was a rewarding reminder of why I love collecting and caring for these fascinating pieces of history.
There are few things more frustrating for an antique or vintage clock owner than when a favorite clock suddenly stops. Mechanical clocks are intricate machines, but that doesn’t always mean the problem is complicated. In fact, many stoppages are caused by small, simple issues that can be corrected at home without tools or technical expertise.
Before you assume the worst or take your clock to a repair shop, here are 5 things you can do yourself to have your clock ticking again.
1. Is the Clock Wound?
It may sound obvious, but the most common reason a clock stops is simply that it has run down. Spring-driven clocks need their mainsprings wound fully with a key, while weight-driven clocks require the weights to be raised. All mechanical clocks require power to operate. Simply put, if the clock is not wound, it cannot run — so always begin here before moving on to more complex possibilities.
Winding arbors on a Seth Thomas mantel clock (arrows)
2. Is the Clock Level and in Beat?
Pendulum clocks must be in beat to function properly. Being “in beat” means that the tick and tock are evenly spaced in time. If the case is leaning or the crutch (the arm that drives the pendulum) is out of position, the pendulum will quickly stall. Place the clock on a level surface and listen carefully: if the tick and tock sound uneven, adjust the clock slightly to the left or right until the beat evens out. Sometimes, fine adjustments to the crutch are necessary, but often leveling the case is all it takes.
Unless your wall clock is anchored, simply moving the case very slightly left or right and listening for an even beat is all that’s required.
Is your clock level on the wall?
3. Is the Pendulum Free to Swing?
The pendulum is the heart of your clock, and it must swing freely without interference. Check that the suspension spring is straight and properly seated, not twisted or bent. Make sure the pendulum bob is not rubbing against the backboard, striking the chime rods, or touching the bottom of the case. Any sort of rubbing will affect the swing of the pendulum, thereby robbing the clock of power. The smallest obstruction can rob the pendulum of momentum and bring the clock to a halt.
Clocks with a floating balance or a hairspring escapement are popular with some collectors since they continue running even when the surface isn’t perfectly level.
A mantel clock movement showing the pendulum
4. Are the Hands Binding?
Sometimes the problem lies not with the movement but with the clock hands. If the hour and minute hands are rubbing against each other, or if the minute hand is scraping against the dial or the glass, the train can be stopped entirely. If the clock stops at a specific time every 12 hours, hands that are interfering with each other are likely the culprit. Inspect the hands carefully and make sure there is a little clearance between them. A gentle outward bend is usually all that’s needed to free them.
Any one of the four hands on this clock can cause interference
5. Is the Movement Dirty or Dry?
Mechanical clocks rely on clean pivots and fresh oil. Over time, old oil becomes gummy and collects dust, creating friction that will eventually stop the clock. If you notice dry or blackened pivot holes, sticky residue, or an overall grimy look to the movement, then lack of servicing is likely the culprit. Gummed-up oil in the mainspring coils can also cause the springs to appear as if they are glued together. Some people incorrectly refer to this condition as a clock that is “over-wound”.
When I first examine a newly purchased clock that does not run, I carefully release the mainspring’s power and then attempt to run the movement. If it runs, that tells me the mainsprings require servicing. At this point, the clock will need a complete cleaning and oiling by a qualified repairer.
A very dirty movement
Conclusion: When Simple Fixes Aren’t Enough
If you have checked these five areas and your clock still refuses to run, the cause is almost certainly deeper and more complex. Worn pivot holes, tired mainsprings, bent teeth, or other mechanical issues may be at fault — problems that cannot be corrected with quick at-home adjustments. A clock movement may appear clean, yet still be quite worn — something you can’t always detect without disassembly.
The good news is that your clock is very likely repairable, but it will require the attention of an experienced clockmaker. By ruling out these simple issues first, you’ll know with confidence when it’s time to seek professional help, and you may just save yourself a service call.
After working on my brother-in-law’s clock earlier this year, I was so taken with it that I decided I wanted the same—or at least a similar—clock in my collection. I nearly succeeded when I found a comparable clock in Ottawa, Ontario, this summer.
I had been monitoring the sale of the clock for about two weeks. I assumed the seller was eager to sell, as the price dropped in $10 increments several times. When it hit my sweet spot, I contacted the seller.
Mauthe box clock
But first, let’s talk about the style of this clock—the box clock. By the early 1900s, Vienna Regulators were starting to fall out of fashion. Even before World War I, people began favouring the cleaner, less ornate look of the box clock. Its modern style fit the mood of the time, and before long, these practical yet stylish clocks had taken the place of the traditional Vienna Regulators.
The box clock design stood the test of time, enduring for over 40 years. Key features and characteristics of German box clocks are their appearance, since the box clock represents a departure from the designs of the Vienna Regulator clocks. Instead, box clocks embraced a more minimalist and utilitarian design.
They typically feature a simple rectangular or square wooden case with clean lines, a modest crown, and glazed elements, often without the intricate carvings and embellishments seen in earlier clock styles. The access door is large and swings open to the right. In the upper section of the door is a glazed panel protecting the dial, while the lower section usually contains five clear beveled glass panels. Sometimes the design is understated, as in the photo below, while other examples show a more ornate treatment.
Brother-in-law’s clock
The absence of markings other than pendulum length (45 cms) and the beat (100 bpm) stamp on the movement might suggest uncertainty, but the Divina gong confirms that the maker was Mauthe (pronounced maw-tay).
Divina was a trade name and subsidiary brand of Mauthe, used particularly for their gongs and striking mechanisms. When you see a gong stamped Divina, it’s essentially a Mauthe product, and it helps confirm the maker when the movement itself is unmarked.
My new clock has the same dimensions, dial face, spade and spear hands, and crown applique as my brother-in-law’s example, but there are two key differences and some minor ones. My clock strikes on three rods, while the other strikes on four. Is there a difference in sound between three and four rods? The answer is yes—the four-rod strike produces a noticeably richer and more sonorous tone.
Secondly, the glazed panel treatment on my clock is, in my opinion, more attractive, featuring a Napoleon-hat-style curve in the center glass panel.
Bottom glazed panel
Next, mine is missing the rod lock, removed for some unknown reason. The rod lock is important when transporting the clock, as it prevents the rods from banging together and potentially snapping off. Otherwise, I had to stuff napkins between the rods when transporting the clock.
The other clock has no standoffs, while mine does. Standoffs help keep the clock vertically aligned on the wall and prevent it from shifting from side to side and putting it out of beat. In my experience, some came with standoffs while others did not.
Both clocks have a 45 cm pendulum and run at 100 beats per minute. My clock lacks a maker’s trademark, whereas the other one displays it on the movement. Regarding pendulum length and beats per minute, I’ve seen other similar Mauthe box clocks with 42 cm pendulums running at 105 beats per minute. Why the difference, I don’t know?
It’s difficult to pin down a manufacturing date, but judging from others I have seen, I would estimate that it was made in the early 1930s.
Unfortunately, little is known about this handsome, well-preserved German wall clock, other than that it was purchased at an antique shop in Cornwall, Ontario, (Canada) about four years ago by a lovely elderly couple. After the husband passed away, his wife began downsizing and was evidently not concerned with getting top dollar for the clock.
Mauthe movement back plate, three strike hammers shown
The clock runs and strikes, though two minor adjustment issues became apparent. First, when the first hammer struck the rod, it produced more of a thud than a clear tone. Bending the hammer back about a centimeter or so resolved the problem. Second, the pendulum bob wobbled slightly, which was corrected by gently squeezing the suspension post closed with pliers. A clean, even swing transfers energy efficiently. A wobble wastes some of that energy, which can potentially cause the clock to stop.
The plan is to display the clock, run it for a short period, then remove the movement to inspect it for signs of wear. If the pivots are dry, I’ll apply oil, run it a bit longer, and ultimately proceed with a full servicing of the movement.
Over the years, I’ve been happily posting two articles every week, and it’s been such a joy to share stories, discoveries, and little bits of horological history with you. But starting next week, I’m slowing the pace just a touch—one article a week, every Monday. Think of it as our standing Monday coffee together, with a side of clock talk.
You can still expect the same mix of topics that make this blog tick—clocks with a Canadian connection, my own adventures (and occasional misadventures!) in restoration and repair, the new treasures that wander into my collection, curious clocks with odd and wonderful histories, and of course, the thoughtful letters I receive from readers around the world. Those things will always be at the heart of what I share here.
A collection of clock movements in need of repair
You might think that posting less means I’m running out of ideas. In truth, it’s the exact opposite! The more I explore horology, the more I discover, the more I learn, and the more I want to share with you. Every clock has a personality and a story to tell, and there’s always another fascinating find or repair puzzle waiting just around the corner.
With nearly 1,000 articles already here (use the search feature), there’s plenty to explore while you’re waiting for the next post—whether it’s restoration tips, a deep dive into an unusual clock, or an interesting slice of history. This new schedule just gives each post a little more room to breathe, without changing the care and attention I put into them.
Arthur Pequegnat shelf and mantel clocks
Thank you for reading, for sharing your thoughts, and for being part of this little corner of the horology world. I’m excited for our new Monday routine—and I have a feeling you’ll enjoy the new pace just as much as I will.
Until next time—keep your clocks wound and your curiosity ticking.
Mention of the Blackforest Clock Company immediately brings to mind the Black Forest region in Germany. However, Blackforest was actually a Canadian clock company founded in 1928 in Toronto, Ontario, by Austrian immigrants Leopold and Sara Stossel.
The company initially imported both clock movements and complete clocks from Germany, marketing them through department stores and jewelry retailers across Canada.
Some clocks were assembled locally at the company’s facility on Wellington Street East in Toronto. Early on, movements—primarily German—were installed in clock cases crafted in house.
However, it is quite possible that Walter Clock Company of Kitchener, Ontario made some of the early clock cases for the Blackforest Clock Company. While definitive documentation is scarce, several Canadian clock historians and collectors have suggested that Walter Clock Co.—a known case manufacturer at the time—supplied wood cases to various Canadian clock assemblers, including Blackforest.These locally made cases were often well-built, showcasing traditional styles like tambour, and buffet clock designs, tailored to Canadian tastes.
As the business evolved, complete mantel clocks were increasingly imported fully assembled from Germany. However, this arrangement was disrupted by the outbreak of the Second World War. In 1941, amid growing anti-German sentiment, the company rebranded itself as the Forestville Clock Company. During wartime, with access to German supply chains cut off, the company sourced its movements from England, the United States, and even France.
By the mid-1950s, Forestville resumed imports from Germany, with Friedrich Mauthe emerging as one of their most significant movement suppliers. These postwar clocks are known for their quality and reliability. Despite their efforts to modernize and diversify, Forestville did not survive much beyond the late 1970s, as inexpensive quartz movements and changing consumer preferences reshaped the clock industry.
With a discussion of the brief history of the company behind us, we now come to my latest acquisition. In all honesty, I couldn’t resist. As I’m currently traveling, a friend kindly picked up the clock for me in Nova Scotia. The price? Just $15. Normally, I would not be interested, but it is an old Canadian clock company, and I have a preference for collecting Canadian-made clocks and those with a strong Canadian connection, and the price was right.
Though the label says it is a ‘chime’ clock, it is actually a time-and-strike (rack and snail) mantel clock, likely made in the mid-1930s, I would say.
Is it perfect? Absolutely not. The case needs a caring touch, and the glass dial bezel is missing. It’s not currently running, but everything is intact, and it should function after a thorough cleaning.
Antique clocks are more than just timekeepers—they’re pieces of history that deserve thoughtful care and placement in your home. While it’s tempting to display them wherever they look best, some locations can cause serious harm to their delicate movements and finishes.
Knowing where not to place your antique clock is just as important as choosing the right spot. To help preserve their beauty and function for generations to come.
Here are some key areas around your home to avoid.
Around Or Above Door Frames
Avoid placing clocks above or near door frames, especially exterior doors, where vibrations from frequent opening and closing can loosen mounting hardware or cause gradual misalignment. These spots (especially over a door) are also awkward for winding and increase the risk of the clock falling, potentially damaging the clock and causing personal injury
Humid Areas Such As The Kitchen, Especially Above a Sink
Kitchens can be surprisingly harsh environments for antique clocks. Steam, grease, and fluctuating humidity—especially near the sink area can lead to corrosion, warped wood, and sticky build-up in the movements.
As much as an antique clock might look quaint in a bathroom, humidity is not kind to an old wood-cased clock.
On Top Of Appliances Or Anything That Vibrates
Appliances like refrigerators, microwaves, or stereos generate heat and vibrations, both of which can degrade a clock’s mechanical integrity over time by gradually knocking a pendulum out of beat or rhythm, affecting timekeeping accuracy. Vibrations can loosen screws, nuts, or mounts inside the clock mechanism.
These surfaces also tend to collect dust and grease, which can infiltrate the clock case.
High Traffic Areas, Such As Narrow Hallways, Especially For Hanging Clocks
In busy or narrow spaces, hanging clocks are at greater risk of being bumped or brushed against, which can knock them out of beat or even send them crashing to the floor.
Direct Sunlight
Constant sun exposure can fade dials, dry out lubricants, crack finishes, and cause uneven fading or bleaching of wood cases and veneer separation.
Near Heating Vents Or Above Heating Registers
Heat from vents and registers rises and can dry out wood, warp components, and accelerate the breakdown of clock oils, causing veneer separation, shortening the interval between servicing.
Clocks placed above fireplaces or wood stoves are especially vulnerable to heat-related damage. Heat rises directly from these sources, creating a concentrated stream of hot air that can dry out wooden cases, leading to cracking, splitting, or loosening of glued joints and veneer. Placement in these locations can accelerate oil breakdown, leading to increased friction and wear in the movement, shortening the interval between servicing.
Children’s Play Areas
When placing antique clocks in a home, avoid areas where children play. Children’s play areas are prone to bumps, flying toys, and general high-energy activity, all of which pose a risk to delicate and valuable clocks. Even wall-mounted clocks can be accidentally knocked loose if mounted too low or within reach. For safety and preservation, it’s best to keep antique clocks out of rooms dedicated to play or where young children frequently gather.
Final Thoughts
Choosing the right location for your antique clock is about more than just aesthetics—it’s about protecting a valuable clock from the damaging effects of heat, moisture, vibration, and physical impact.
By avoiding areas like above door frames, near heating vents, in kitchens, on top of appliances, and in sunny or high-traffic zones, you help ensure your clock runs smoothly and looks beautiful for years to come. With proper placement, your clock will not only keep time but also continue to tell its own story as a cherished possession.
We are quite accustomed to the accuracy of quartz clocks which lose or gain mere milli-seconds per week. Contrast that with an era when folks were content to accept that their mechanical clock would be a minute fast or slow through the week, and it was a common practice to make small adjustments over the run cycle of a clock.
Clocks generally fall into four categories: quartz, electro-mechanical, electric, and mechanical. In this discussion, we’ll focus on mechanical clocks—whether antique or vintage—as we explore the common reasons why a clock may run slow.
Our discussion on why a clock runs slow should be grounded in a few practical realities. A typical American spring-driven clock, even when properly serviced, may gain or lose a couple of minutes per week—this is considered normal. In contrast, weight-driven mechanical clocks that vary by only a few seconds per week are regarded as highly accurate, with astronomical regulator clocks being among the most precise of all.
That said, how many mechanical devices do you know run perfectly (relatively speaking) after 120 years?
A clock runs slowly for a variety of reasons.
Let’s consider several factors and examine each in detail.
Environmental factors
The pendulum is too low or too high
The pendulum is the incorrect weight
Incorrect suspension spring length
The suspension spring is not attached correctly
Lack of lubrication
Gummed-up lubrication (over-oiled)
Balance Wheel Requires an Adjustment
A weak mainspring
Changes or Alterations During Servicing
Clock cycle time variance
Slipping, Binding and Rubbing
One-weight wall clock with a large pendulum bob and rate adjustment on the bottom
Environmental Factors
Mechanical clocks are subject to a number of environmental factors that may cause them to gain or lose speed over the course of a year. These factors include heat, cold, and humidity. Increasing the ambient temperature of a clock will slow it down from the expansion and lengthening of the pendulum unless the pendulum is a compensating type using Mercury or dissimilar metal rods. Denser air also causes the pendulum to move more slowly.
Ogee clock showing replacement 1 oz rate adjusting pendulum bob
Moving a clock from sea level to a higher elevation will affect the speed of the clock.
It is common to make seasonal speed adjustments on a clock that does not have a compensating pendulum.
Pendulum bob with inset rate adjustment
Pendulum Too Low or Too High
The lower the pendulum bob, the slower the clock will run. Many pendulum clocks can be adjusted either by a set screw at the bottom of the pendulum or by an inset screw on the pendulum.
In the absence of an adjustment on the pendulum, there is a regulator on the clock face. Use the small end of a double-sided key and insert it into the dial face of the clock to speed up or slow down the clock.
Shortening the pendulum will speed up the clock. Anything that increases the length of the pendulum will reduce the rate of the pendulum and result in a clock that will run slower.
Parts of the clock related to the pendulum
Pendulum is the Incorrect Weight
If the pendulum is too heavy, it causes the centre of gravity to be too low, consequently, the clock will run slower. Having the correct weight pendulum for your clock ensures smooth running.
Incorrect Suspension Spring Length
Often, when a clock is repaired by a person who has limited knowledge of the effect a replacement spring will have on the running of a clock they will occasionally install an incorrect length or thickness of suspension spring. Choose the suspension spring that is correct for your clock.
Rate adjustment under the 12. Use the small end of the double-sided key to make the adjustment
Suspension Spring Not Attached Correctly, or Bent or Twisted Spring
The suspension spring is located at the top of the pendulum rod and serves as the flexible part that allows the pendulum to swing. It connects the top post to the pendulum leader. If it is not installed securely, the pendulum may not swing at all or could wobble, which robs the movement of its energy.
If the spring is bent or twisted, the imperfection will also drain its energy. This imperfection reduces the efficiency of energy transfer to the pendulum, causing it to lose amplitude and making the clock run slow or stop altogether.
Lack of Lubrication
Pivot holes that have dried up mean that there is no lubricating barrier between the pivots and their bearing holes, although the movement may otherwise be very clean.
Small drops of clock oil applied to the dry pivot holes will ensure the clock runs well and will have a long life. Without oil, the steel pivots will wear the brass pivot holes, resulting in wheels that will not mesh properly, eventually stopping the clock.
An approved clock oil must be used, although I have heard that synthetic oil works well too.
Note: a small drop of oil in each bushing hole is all that is required. As they say, Less Is More!
Gummed-up Lubrication
Clock oil loses its viscosity over time. Aging oils also lose their adhesive properties. Oil becomes oxidized, and oxidized oil forms varnish-like residues or gums that can clog pivots and bushings, increasing friction.
When a clock runs slowly, the first instinct is to apply more oil. Old blackened or greenish oil in the pivot holes is a sure sign the clock has been over-oiled or the oil has degraded. The addition of fresh oil produces an almost immediate improvement in the running of the clock, but it will not be long-lasting. In a short time, the clock will begin to run slowly again as the new oil mixes with the dirt and grime in the old oil. When this occurs, the oil becomes an abrasive paste, resulting in exacerbated wear.
The only solution is servicing, which includes disassembly, cleaning of the movement, addressing wear issues, reassembly, and testing.
Balance Wheel Requires an Adjustment
Balance wheels can be adjusted to speed up or slow down a clock.
Regulation of the escapement is done by sliding the two small weights attached to the center of the balance wheel inward to make the clock run faster, and outward to slow it down.
To adjust, simply hold the wheel and push the small adjustment “finger.” Moving the finger to the right will speed up the clock, and moving it to the left will slow it down. Each movement of one dot typically changes the rate by about 10 seconds per day.
The movement usually has a directional indicator guide near the balance wheel, with an “S” for slow and an “F” for fast.
Balance wheel escapement
A Weak Mainspring
Often, the mainspring you will find in your antique clock is the original one(s). The steel used at the time the clock was made was generally of higher quality than the steel used today, with some exceptions. By their very nature, mainsprings become weak over time.
Weak mainsprings are called “set” mainsprings. If “set”, your clock will not run a full cycle, 8 days for eight-day clocks, a full 30 hours for one-day clocks, or whatever the designed cycle. When a spring-driven clock is brought in for a professional repair, the mainsprings are often replaced.
Most properly serviced clocks with their original mainsprings will complete their full cycle, even if the springs are not as powerful as they once were, because cleaning reduces resistance throughout the gear train.
If your clock requires a mainspring replacement, a correctly sized, quality American- or German-made mainspring should provide years of reliable service.
Changes or Alterations During Servicing
Changing or altering the mechanism, such as replacing a gear with an incorrect tooth count, may speed up or slow down a clock. Although movement parts may appear to be similar, manufacturers often made small changes, resulting in parts that may not be interchangeable with the exact movement over the years.
Clock Cycle Time Variance
American spring-driven eight-day clocks typically run slightly faster at the beginning of their cycle because they provide most of their power early on, then run more slowly throughout the week as the mainspring unwinds. A spring-driven clock that is one or two minutes fast at the start of the week may often be a minute or two slow by the end of its cycle. This is considered normal, and no adjustment is necessary.
Occasionally, you will see Geneva Works or stop works on a clock movement. These mechanical additions are designed to compensate for the variance of spring power by utilizing the mechanism to limit the mainspring’s unwinding, ensuring a consistent amount of power is delivered throughout the clock’s running cycle. I have also seen enough of these clocks with the Geneva stops removed. Why? Often, the repairer did not understand how to set them!
The power on a weight-driven clock, on the other hand, is constant, and the loss or gain in time at the beginning of the cycle will be the same at the end, assuming no wear issues are slowing it down.
Slipping, Binding, and Rubbing
If your clock is losing many minutes per day, something in the mechanism is slipping or binding. If your clock is losing minutes per day after all adjustments are made, it is likely that bushing wear or some other worn component, including a weak mainspring, is causing the problem.
Clock repairers often use a term called end shake. End shake allows freedom of lateral movement for each of the wheels between the movement plates. If the plates are tight and there is no end shake, too much resistance will slow a clock. It is why clock repairers always check for sufficient end-shake when servicing the wheels/gears on a movement.
If a wall clock is not mounted correctly, the pendulum might rub against the case. Make sure the clock is not only level and in beat but also properly aligned vertically against the wall. If a clock is not aligned vertically, the pendulum may not swing evenly, causing it to rub against not only the clock case but other parts as well. This uneven motion puts extra stress on a distorted suspension spring.
Final Thoughts
Your situation may be unique, and if it is not covered by this article, I recommend consulting a clock repair expert. If you have little experience and choose to work on an antique or vintage clock yourself, the mistakes you make could be irreversible. For beginners, there are many reputable books and online forums dedicated to clock repair that can provide guidance before attempting any work.
There is also a certain element of risk working with mechanical clocks, as the power contained in the mainsprings may cause serious injury if not handled properly. Always take proper precautions when handling mainsprings or winding mechanisms. If you are unsure or unfamiliar with safe procedures, it’s best to seek assistance from a professional clockmaker to avoid injury and damage to the clock. That said, the safest clocks to work on for beginners are weight-driven ogee clocks or time-only, spring-driven clocks.
Knowing why your clock runs slowly is the first step in diagnosing the problem. Addressing the issue is the next step. Beyond that, periodic maintenance and servicing with quality parts is the key to a long life for your clock.
Having worked on a number of German and American clock movements recently, I began reflecting on the differences in design philosophy, construction methods, and overall durability between modern German movements from the past 30 to 40 years and American movements made over a century ago.
These comparisons reveal not just technical contrasts but also shifting attitudes toward repair, longevity, and manufacturing priorities.
In the early stages of any product’s history, things are often built better than necessary—if only because the technology was so new that no one had yet figured out how to make it cheaper and less durable.
Early American banjo clocks were lovingly handcrafted
The cost and production methods of clocks have evolved significantly over time. Originally, antique clocks were handcrafted with great skill and time investment, which made them expensive and exclusive. Later, industrial advances like assembly line manufacturing lowered production costs and made clocks more affordable and accessible to a wider audience.
So, when comparing antique and modern clocks, it’s important to keep in mind these differences in how they were made and priced.
Is Every Clock Reparable?
Do modern movements wear out faster? I often see estimates of 25 to 30 years as the economic lifespan of a modern movement. Of course, mileage may vary, but most would agree that this is a reasonable average.
Is every clock repairable? Most are. It is perfectly feasible to tear down, clean, and rebush/repivot a modern German movement, provided the manufacturer has not used automated assembly techniques that make disassembly very difficult, if not impossible.
Vintage 3-train movement from Germany
Maintenance is time-consuming and, consequently, costly. A skilled clockmaker can tear down, clean, rebush, and rebuild most movements in a few days—and may charge around several hundred dollars for their work. Of course, if you are proficient in clock repair, you can absorb the costs even though you contribute the time needed to fix the clock.
Replacement rather than repair has pushed modern manufacturing into the ‘it’s cheaper to buy a new one than to fix it’ category. This trend mirrors the auto repair industry, where many vehicle owners find that repair costs often approach or exceed the value of their car, prompting them to purchase a new or used vehicle instead. Clocks are not exempt from this pattern. Most common clocks—unless they have special provenance—are far more expensive to repair than they are worth.
If the inflation-adjusted estimates are accurate, the price of mass-produced clocks from the past isn’t significantly different from that of today’s clocks. This may be due, at least in part, to economies of scale that allowed manufacturers of the time to offer higher-quality clocks at relatively lower prices.
Skilled trades or specialized workers (e.g., machinists, toolmakers) in 1920s Canada could earn $25–$40 per week, roughly the cost of a family clock
You can buy a brand-newHermlemovement for about half the cost of repair, so most customers and clock repairers opt for replacement after discussing the options with the owner.
The Wear-out Factor
Do modern movements actually “wear out” faster than those made one hundred years ago, or is it just that the manufacturing efficiencies have made modern ones so cheap they are uneconomic to repair?
I’ve compiled a chart to illustrate the differences between American clocks manufactured over 100 years ago and German clocks produced between the 1950s and 1980s, based on my observations and research into clock repair.
Lightweight, more delicate components, tiny pivots, plated pivots, temporarily
Tolerance for Wear
High—can run even when bushings are very worn
Wear develops quickly, multiple bushings are often needed
Pivot Hole Wear
Slow to develop, sometimes bushing is not required
Increased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, made serviceable by the factory
Design Philosophy
Long-lasting, serviceable by owners
Increased pivot wear made for a shorter lifespan, making it serviceable by the factory
Mechanism Complexity
Simple strike/spring trains, easy to diagnose and remedy
Self-correcting chime/strike, more moving parts, greater chance of malfunction
Mainsprings
Powerful, overbuilt, are often reusable
Narrower, tightly wound, sometimes prone to breakage, often reusable
Service Requirements
Can go years without a service
Sensitive to dry oil or dirt; must be oiled regularly, shorter period between services
Common Issues
Dirty oil, broken mainsprings, worn bushings
Worn bushings, broken chime hammers, gear slop
Longevity (w/o service)
25 to 50 years
20–30 years
Ease of Repair Today
High – parts are widely available, with forgiving tolerances
Pre-war German clocks were very robust, and post-war had a designed lifespan
Intended Lifespan
Generational/heirloom use
Pre-war German clocks were very robust, post-war had a designed lifespan
Notable Exceptions
Cheaper “kitchen clocks” with thinner plates
Some plastic gears are used, cheaper components
*Increasing the amount of zinc in brass can make the metal more cost-effective and easier to machine, but it also tends to make the alloy less durable and more prone to dezincification (where zinc leaches out, weakening the metal).
Final Thoughts
Understanding the history and evolution of clock manufacturing helps us appreciate the balance between craftsmanship, durability, and affordability.
Unique and handcraftedEnglishtravel clock
While antique clocks showcase the skill and time invested by individual makers, modern movements benefit from advances in manufacturing that make quality clocks more accessible, though often at the cost of durability and repairability. These factors allow collectors and enthusiasts to make informed decisions and better appreciate the unique value each era of clockmaking offers.
If you spend any amount of time browsing online marketplaces for antique or vintage clocks, you’ll quickly become familiar with a common phrase: “Fully serviced and tested to ensure reliable running.”
It sounds reassuring. But what does fully serviced really mean? As it turns out, the answer can vary greatly depending on who’s doing the servicing, and just how seriously they take that term.
The Wide Spectrum of “Servicing”
To some sellers, servicing a clock means removing the movement from the case, giving it a quick inspection, oiling a few pivots, and popping it back in. This might help the clock run for a short while, but it’s a far cry from what most professionals or serious hobbyists would consider a proper service.
Cleaned and ready for the top plate
To others, a full service is a detailed, time-intensive process, one that includes disassembly, deep cleaning, inspection for wear, and repairing or replacing worn components before careful reassembly and thorough testing.
As someone who has serviced clocks for years, I fall squarely in the latter camp. And I know many experienced clockmakers who would agree with this standard.
What a Full Clock Service Should Include
Here’s what I consider a full service for a mechanical clock movement:
Complete disassembly of the movement.
Ultrasonic cleaning of all parts to remove old oil and grime. There are always exceptions. Some movements should not be cleaned in this way
Inspection and polishing of all pivots.
Replacement or installation of bushings where necessary.
Cleaning of mainsprings (or replacement, if broken or weak).
Repair or remediation of any issues found during inspection—worn teeth, bent levers, etc.
Reassembly and correct oiling using proper clock lubricants.
Bench testing of the movement outside of the case.
Reinstallation into the case, followed by additional testing and regulation.
Running the clock through a full wind cycle to ensure consistent performance.
When I describe a clock I’m selling as “fully serviced,” that’s the process I’m referring to. Just to be clear, I’m not a clock seller, but I do sell the occasional one to manage my collection.
Enclosed mainsprings after a cleaning
The Problem with Vague Listings
Unfortunately, many sellers—especially on general online marketplaces—use the term “fully serviced” very loosely. Often, no further detail is provided. Did a trained professional work on it? Was the movement actually disassembled? Were any worn components addressed? You won’t know unless the seller tells you.
Sometimes, the work might have been done by an “amateur tinkerer” with limited tools and questionable cleaning techniques. Was this one of those “Duncan Swish” specials? (Clock repairers will know what I mean.) Other times, the clock may have simply been made to run, but not properly cleaned or tested, meaning any apparent reliability may be short-lived.
A fully serviced time-only movement
Red Flags to Watch For
No servicing details provided. A vague “fully serviced” label with no breakdown of what was done should be treated with caution.
Low price with big promises. If the clock is underpriced but claimed to be fully restored, ask yourself how many hours of professional work could reasonably be covered.
Fresh oil but dirty movement. Visible oil combined with dirty plates is a telltale sign that no real cleaning has occurred.
Photos showing missing or incorrect parts: missing finials, a mismatched pendulum, missing decorative case parts, etc..
Lack of timekeeping data. A reputable seller will often state something like “keeping time to within ±2 minutes per week.”
“I’m not a clock person, so may just need adjusting the pendulum“: a vague statement that may mean the clock is not functioning for a variety of reasons.
“May need adjustment after shipping”: another watchful sign that something is amiss
“Sold as a decorative or restoration piece”: serious mechanical issues, critical parts missing, mismatched parts, possibly quartz movement replaces mechanical movement.
Has been meticulously maintained to preserve its original beauty and functionality: without an explanation
The clock has been professionally serviced and is in good working order; without an explanation
What a Good Listing Should Say
A reputable seller, or a professional restorer, will usually provide a description similar to this:
“The clock has been fully serviced, which included complete disassembly of the movement, ultrasonic cleaning of all parts, polishing of pivots, bushing replacement where needed, mainspring inspection and cleaning, and reassembly with proper oiling. It has been tested over a full wind cycle and is keeping time within ±2 minutes per 7 days.”
Even better if the seller adds specifics, such as which bushings were replaced, whether the mainspring was replaced and why, or if a particular part was repaired or fabricated.
Advice for Buyers
Ask for specifics. If a listing says the clock is fully serviced, don’t hesitate to message the seller and ask for details about what that means.
Request more photos. A clean movement is often a good sign. If photos enable you to see inside the case, look for signs of dust, excess oil, or grime.
Get a feel for the seller. Are they a clock enthusiast? A professional repairer? Or simply a reseller with little horological knowledge?
Consider professional inspection. If you’re buying a high-value clock, consider budgeting for a post-purchase inspection by a reputable local repairer.
In Summary
“Fully serviced” can mean very different things depending on who’s doing the talking. For casual sellers, it might be little more than an oil-and-go job. For professionals and serious hobbyists, it’s a meticulous process grounded in best practices and respect for the movement’s longevity.
If you’re shopping for a vintage or antique clock, don’t be shy about asking what work has actually been done. Clocks are mechanical devices that do wear over time, and like any machine, they need proper care to keep ticking for years to come.
The difference between a clock that runs reliably and one that stops after two weeks may be just a matter of how honest the seller was about what “fully serviced” really meant.
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.
Hi there, and welcome to my little corner of the internet! My name is Ron Joiner, and for the past twenty years, I’ve been an avid hobbyist and collector in the world of antique and vintage clocks. What started as a curiosity has grown into a deep passion for the intricate movements and rich history of these remarkable clocks.
Every so often, I like to promote my blog and help newcomers understand what it’s all about and what they can expect when they visit.
As some of you who visit regularly know, I’m not in the business of selling or repairing clocks—I’m simply someone who loves learning about them, collecting them, and occasionally restoring them as a labor of love. Along the way, I’ve gained a wealth of knowledge and experience that I’m excited to share with fellow enthusiasts like you. This blog is my way of sharing what I’ve learned.
On this site, you’ll find:
Tips and tricks for identifying and caring for antique clocks.
Stories and insights about the history and craftsmanship behind these old antique or vintage clocks.
My personal experiences and lessons learned from collecting and restoring clocks over the years.
A space to connect with others who share our passion for horology.
Whether you’re a seasoned collector or just starting to explore the world of antique clocks, I hope this site inspires you, teaches you something new, and helps you appreciate these incredible pieces of history as much as I do.
Feel free to explore, leave comments, or reach out with questions. I’m always happy to chat about clocks and learn from others in the community. I’d love to hear your stories, help with any clock-related challenges, or even feature one of your clocks in a future post. Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or get in touch!
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It’s been about two years since I last worked on a Mauthe time and strike movement. While Mauthe clocks are fairly common, my attention has been directed toward other types of clocks and clock projects in recent years.
This is the first installment of a two-part series, offering initial impressions and background history of the clock, as well as outlining the plan for servicing the movement and addressing minor issues with the case.
This isn’t just any Mauthe box clock—it carries a significant family history. It was given to my father-in-law in the 1970s by his secretary, whose father originally owned it. I can still vividly recall the warm, familiar sound of its two-toned strike echoing through my in-laws’ home on Rupert Street in Amherst, Nova Scotia. Those gentle tones bring back fond memories of family gatherings at special times of the year. The house was eventually sold in 1996.
The house on Rupert; the original owners were the Tennant family
Both the clock movement and the case are in surprisingly good condition, especially considering my father-in-law’s knack for being a bit rough around the edges and heavy-handed regarding repairs. His endearing awkwardness somehow spared this clock, which has stood the test of time remarkably well. It’s clear he went the extra mile with this clock because, upon disassembling the movement, I discovered evidence of servicing by a professional clock specialist.
German “box” clock by Mauthe
Although the clock was carefully stored it has not run in over 25 years. It is long overdue for a cleaning.
According to several online databases, the design of the trademark stamp suggests it was used by Mauthe after 1946. This places the clock’s production in the late 1940s to early 1950s.
Condition of the movement
To remove the movement from its case, start by unhooking the pendulum. Next, loosen the two screws securing the seatboard. Once these screws are released, the movement can slide out from the front. Detach the seatboard by unscrewing the two thumbscrews located on underneath and either side of the seatboard. Additionally, a unique pair of angled pieces that also hold the movement in place, fastened with wood screws, must also be removed. This setup may seem a bit excessive, but it provides a secure and stable mounting for the movement.
After removing the seatboard, I examined the movement and was struck by how clean it remained despite years in storage. The pivots were completely dry, so I applied a small amount of oil to test its functionality—and it ran smoothly. A little oil is no substitute for a cleaning and I proceeded with disassembling the movement by first releasing the power of the mainsprings.
I’ll conclude here for now. Join me in my next article as I disassemble the movement, discuss what needs attention, and explore some of the issues and challenges associated with it as well as addressing minor issues with the clock case.
As a clock repairer, there are several compelling reasons to keep the original mainsprings if they are still in good condition.
Keeping the original mainsprings ensures that the clock remains as close to its original condition as possible. Collectors and enthusiasts often value clocks with original parts, as they maintain the authenticity and historical significance of the clock.
Older brass mainsprings are not replaceable
Many older mainsprings were made with higher-quality steel and manufacturing techniques and modern replacements may not be of the same quality. Original springs, if well-preserved, may outperform modern equivalents in terms of durability and performance.
Consider the original design of the movement and how it is powered. The original mainspring is designed specifically for the clock’s movement, ensuring the proper balance of power delivery and running time. Replacements, even when sized correctly, may not deliver power consistently due to slight variations in material and design.
Modern mainsprings can sometimes deliver too much power, especially in delicate or vintage movements, leading to accelerated wear or damage to gears and pivots. Original springs are often “seasoned,” meaning they’ve been conditioned by years of use and may be gentler on the movement. Even replacements that have the same dimensions as the original are overpowered. Recommended replacement springs might overload the movement and lead to wear issues sooner rather than later.
Laurie Penman, who authors a regular feature in Clocks Magazine, stresses the importance of considering replacement springs in the September 2024 issue, stating “it bears repeating that if you fit a spring that approximates to the original nineteenth century the movement will be overloaded”.1
Cleaning an open mainspring
If the original mainspring is functional, reusing it can save the cost of purchasing a replacement. In fact, finding an exact replacement for some older or rare clocks can be very challenging for the repairer.
That said, we certainly do not need to send more items to landfill sites. Reusing parts when possible reduces waste and the environmental impact of manufacturing new components.
Inspect the mainsprings during every servicing
Part of servicing a clock movement includes inspecting and cleaning the mainsprings. While open mainsprings are easier to inspect and work with, some repairers may be tempted to skip cleaning those encased in barrels. It’s important to learn how to open mainspring barrels for proper maintenance.
Mainspring barrel
Over time, the mainspring(s) can accumulate old oil, dirt, rust, and debris, which can impede its smooth operation. Removing the mainspring from the barrel or open springs from a movement allows for proper cleaning and lubrication, ensuring the clock runs efficiently.
Open mainsprings that have been serviced
Removing the spring also allows you to apply fresh mainspring oil evenly along the entire length of the spring. But that is not the only reason.
When Should You Replace the Mainsprings?
Removing the mainspring allows you to thoroughly inspect it for any signs of wear, fatigue, or damage that might require replacement. If the spring is in good condition but the hook end is cracked, it can be reused by cutting the spring and fashioning a new hook end. This will make the spring slightly shorter.
However, after a thorough cleaning, the movement will run more efficiently and require less power to run through its designed cycle, be it a day or a week, two weeks, and so, there may be little to no effect from a shortened mainspring. That said, the task of repairing a mainspring is best suited for an experienced clockmaker.
The most straightforward solution for the novice is simply to replace the spring.
Although they may appear set to some, this spring is perfectly usable
As a clock repairer, I rarely replace a mainspring. Even if a mainspring appears “set,” it often still has functionality. The important step is to return the spring to the movement and test it to ensure it meets the required standard by completing its designed cycle. If there is a significant loss, a running time of 2-3 days for an 8-day clock, and if there are no other obvious issues the mainspring must be replaced.
For some, ensuring a clock runs while preserving its original parts might take priority, even if the original mainspring cannot power the clock through its designed cycle. It is therefore essential to balance preservation with functionality.
Using a spring winder while working on a spring within a barrel
By carefully evaluating the mainspring’s condition and the specific needs of the movement, you can make an informed decision that respects both the clock’s history and its mechanical performance.
The term minimal invasive intervention refers to the delicate decision-making process regarding how much work should be done to repair, restore, or conserve a clock without significantly altering its original character. It encapsulates a challenge many collectors face: balancing preservation with functionality.
Some argue that any work performed on an antique clock detracts from its value, much like installing new fenders on an antique car. While it may improve appearance or functionality, it might make the piece less desirable to purists. So, at what point does intervention—however well-intentioned—compromise a clock’s value?
When original parts, particularly the movement or key aesthetic features, are replaced with non-original or modern components, the clock often loses collector value. Authenticity is a cornerstone of desirability for collectors. Replacing a worn movement with a reproduction or modern equivalent significantly reduces value, even if it restores functionality.
Excessive restoration, such as refinishing to a like-new condition, can erase the patina, wear, or other marks of age that contribute to the clock’s historical character. Collectors value the evidence of a clock’s journey through time.
Alterations that cannot be undone, such as resizing a case, changing its design, or permanently altering the movement, reduce value. Reversibility is crucial in maintaining collector interest.
Intervention may not compromise value if the repair restores function without altering original materials or craftsmanship. Rebushing and cleaning are interventions but are generally considered acceptable practices.
I always maintain that there should be Respectfor Provenance, that is, preserving historical repairs, markings, documentation, and patina when they tell the clock’s story through the ages. In addition, using methods and materials appropriate to the clock’s era maintain authenticity.
Let’s look at some definitions.
Repair, Restoration, and Conservation Defined
Repair involves correcting faults or addressing prior poor repairs, often resulting in changes to a clock’s form or function. Repair in a museum context typically addresses specific problems to restore mechanical function or structural integrity while still respecting the clock’s historical value and authenticity.
Restoration seeks to return the clock to an “as new” condition, sometimes requiring reconstruction of parts of the movement or case. Restoration in a museum context involves returning an antique clock to a state that reflects its original appearance or function, often as close as possible to how it was when first made.
Conservation focuses on preserving the clock in its current state while protecting it from further deterioration. This approach aims to maintain the clock as close to its original condition as possible for as long as possible. Conservation in this context prioritizes maintaining the clock’s historical authenticity and ensuring it can be studied and appreciated by future generations. This approach is guided by principles of reversibility, documentation, and respect for the original materials and craftsmanship. A reversible repair means future conservators can undo them if needed.
Some amount of intervention is often necessary and even desired by collectors, but how much is always a delicate balance.
A Case in Point: 1878 E. Ingraham Huron Clock
E Ingraham Hurons were made between 1878 and 1880
Take, for example, an 1878 E. Ingraham Huron time-and-strike balloon clock from my collection. The 16-inch high rosewood case is remarkably well-preserved for its 146 years, with no breaks, cracks, or missing pieces. The hands, pendulum bob, sash, and bezel hardware are all original, as is the movement. The case has been gently cleaned with soap and water and given a light coat of shellac for protection.
The clock face retains a layer of grime that contributes to its aged character, which I chose to leave untouched. However, the movement has suffered from less-than-professional repairs, likely due to the lack of skilled clockmakers in small-town Nova Scotia (Canada) during the clock’s early life. These repairs include soldered joints and realigned gears with pivot holes drilled directly into the plates—techniques probably applied in the 1940s, when soldering guns became more accessible.
Solder repair on the Huronmovement
The clock ran for two or three days before stopping, and even nudging the pendulum provides only a temporary fix. On removing the movement from its case, the extent of these invasive repairs becomes more apparent. Even more apparent was the need for a full servicing.
Solder repair on the second wheel
Deciding on the Right Approach
After consulting a certified horologist, we discussed the options: repair, restore, or conserve? He shared an example of a customer’s kitchen clock (or “Gingerbread clock”), a common family heirloom. While these clocks are rarely of high monetary value, they often hold deep sentimental significance.
He typically repairs such clocks but occasionally replaces irreparable movements with period-correct ones—an option acceptable to many owners, but one that collectors generally frown upon and approach I did not care for.
In the case of my Huron, replacing the movement would significantly reduce its value as a collector’s item. Restoring the original movement, however, would maintain its authenticity and desirability. That is the route we took.
Guiding Questions for Intervention
When deciding how to proceed with any antique or vintage clock, I consider the following:
Does undoing damage from a previous poor repair qualify as overly invasive?
If the repair was performed soon after the clock was made and is historically documented (e.g., markings inside the case), should it remain untouched?
Does the poor repair add or subtract from the clock’s historical provenance, making it part of its story?
Would restoring the movement to its original state be considered a repair or a restoration?
Does removing all solder work qualify as a minimally invasive intervention?
Will the repair enhance or detract from the clock’s value?
Would leaving the clock unrestored qualify as conservation?
The poor repair needed to be addressed. I believe that correcting a subpar repair will always restore the clock’s functionality without diminishing its value. Since only minimal work was done on the case and nothing was done to the dial, I would classify this approach as a repair plus conservation.
The Collector’s Dilemma
Collectors often value clocks that remain as untouched as possible. A pristine, unaltered antique clock that runs is exceedingly rare. However, some intervention is inevitable if the goal is to preserve function, as long as it respects the clock’s historical and aesthetic integrity.
In my view, conservation and repair align most closely with minimal invasive intervention and restoration is inherently more intrusive. Deciding how far to go with a clock involves weighing its historical significance, its condition, and your goals as a collector or caretaker.
When I acquire a clock, the first question I ask is: what outcome am I aiming for based on the price I paid? For inexpensive mantel clocks, I’m willing to undertake extensive case repairs, recognizing that a clock purchased cheaply likely won’t gain significant value. However, for more desirable clocks, I adopt a more cautious approach, carefully determining the minimal work needed to restore functionality and enhance the case’s appearance.
I’d like to hear your views on this subject and how you approach this delicate balance!
Aclock’s pendulum is a swinging component made up of arod or wire with a weighted bobattached at the end. It is a key part of pendulum clocks, responsible for regulating the movement and ensuring accurate timekeeping.
The pendulum swings back and forth in a precise, periodic motion, controlling the clock’s escapement mechanism and dividing time into equal intervals.
The topic of pendulum weight is a frequent subject of discussion among amateur and professional horologists.
The weight of the pendulum in mechanical clocks is not critical for precise timekeeping but must fall within an acceptable range. Let’s explore why in this article.
Controlling variables
The controlling variable is the length of the entire pendulum assembly (suspension spring, pendulum leader, pendulum bob) from the point where the suspension spring flexes to the center of mass of the entire pendulum assembly. Some clocks will have that length expressed in centimeters or inches stamped on the movement plate.
The number 34 refers to the length of the pendulum in centimeters
The weight of a pendulum has a much smaller effect on its timekeeping compared to the length. In an ideal pendulum, the time it takes to complete a swing (the period) is mostly determined by the length of the pendulum and the acceleration due to gravity, and not by the weight.
The weight of the pendulum
In practical mechanical clocks, the weight of the pendulum can affect the clock’s movement in subtle ways. However, the pendulum’s weight must fall within an acceptable range specified by the movement’s design.
Pendulum bob with adjustment screw
Heavier pendulums are less affected by air resistance. A pendulum that is too light may slow down more over time due to friction with the air. Heavier pendulums tend to be more stable in motion and less affected by external forces like small drafts or air currents.
The weight of the pendulum can affect how much power is required from the clock’s escapement mechanism to maintain the pendulum’s motion. A heavier pendulum may need more energy to keep swinging. If the clock’s escapement is designed for a certain weight, using a much heavier or lighter pendulum could affect timekeeping accuracy.
Suspension spring post
On the other hand, heavier bobs tend to overcome mechanical friction more effectively. If the clock’s gears or escapement are under significant load due to weak mainsprings, old grease, or worn pivot holes, a heavier bob helps maintain consistent motion by stabilizing the escapement’s action. If the clock runs better with an overly heavy pendulum bob, it’s a sign of wear, indicating that the movement needs servicing.
Worn Pivot hole
Additionally, the attachment points (or suspension) of the pendulum and the escapement mechanism may experience increased wear or friction if the pendulum is too heavy. This could cause irregularities in the clock’s timekeeping over time.
In summary
While the length of the pendulum is the primary factor controlling the rate of timekeeping, the weight affects stability, efficiency, and how the clock interacts with the pendulum. However, the length of the pendulum, rather than its weight, is the primary factor in determining a clock’s accuracy.
For a more detailed or technical analysis, horological journals and bulletins delve deeper into the physics of pendulum design and weight. However, I hope this straightforward explanation will be sufficient.
I recently added two more Pequegnat clocks to my collection: the Hamilton Tall which you can read abouthereand the Danby model, which I will be profiling in this article. This brings my total to 12 Arthur Pequegnat clocks.
Let’s start with some background on the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Co. and its significance in Canadian clockmaking.
Advertising sign
The Pequegnat Clock Company, founded by Swiss immigrant Arthur Pequegnat in 1904 in Kitchener, Ontario (then Berlin), operated until 1941. Initially a jewelry shop, Pequegnat expanded into bicycle manufacturing in 1897. However, as demand for bicycles declined, he shifted to clockmaking, utilizing his existing plant for producing clock movements. The company’s motto, “Buy Canadian – Pequegnat clocks are better than foreign-made ones,” appealed to Canadian consumers.
Pequegnat initially sourced wooden clock cases from local furniture makers before producing its own, earning a reputation for high-quality, reliable clocks in various designs, including wall, mantel, and hall clocks. Unfortunately, the brass shortage during the Second World War signaled the end of the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Co.
The Danby
While the Hamilton Tall is considered a prestigious parlour clock, the Danby occupies the opposite end of the spectrum. This is reflected in its auction price, making it one of the least expensive Pequegnat clocks I have purchased.
The Danby
According to the general definition of a mantel clock, the Danby can be classified as a shelf clock. It measures 4.5″ x 21″ x 9.5″, with its movement housed in a walnut veneered case.
The Danby was directly competing with an influx of mantel clocks from American companies, and to remain competitive, they must have sold it with minimal profit margins and this is reflected in its build quality.
The Dial
While some of the last Danbys showcased an Art Deco dial, this particular model features the simpler tin painted dial. Notably, the name “Pequegnat” is positioned one-third of the way up from the center arbor on the dial face. At that time, thanks to its brand recognition, it wasn’t necessary to display the entire company name on the dial.
Additionally, the movement lacks a regulating feature, so to adjust the clock’s speed, you must change the length of the pendulum bob. In short it is as simple as it gets for a Pequegnat 8-day time and strike clock. Notably, it has a tuned rod gong which would have been considered an upgrade.
A common feature of Pequegnat movements is their nickel-plated front and back plates, which provided a polished, attractive finish that appealed to customers.
Initially, the Pequegnat Clock Company used steel plates for their clock movements but transitioned to brass plates. Steel plates were more prone to rust and corrosion, while brass offered better resistance and was easier to machine, making it a more suitable choice for clockmaking. Pequegnat continued to nickel-plate the movements to enhance the clock’s perceived quality.
Numerous Pequegnat models were produced over the extended period from 1904 to 1941, making it difficult to determine the exact manufacturing dates for specific clocks. However, I feel confident in stating that this clock was made in the months leading up to the closing of the factory in 1941.
Overall Condition of the Case
The case is dark walnut veneered, which was a common practice for “everyday” clocks during the pre-war period. This construction method helped reduce production costs. It’s also possible that by this time, Pequegnat had resumed the practice of outsourcing their cases as there were several companies in Toronto, notably Walter Clocks and the Blackforest Clock Co. that produced cases for clock movements imported from England, Germany and France.
The case has been refreshed, and aside from requiring a cleaning, it looks presentable. However, the dial is in rough condition, with both the numerals and the surface having faded from wear and tear. I may touch up the numerals with black paint but there is not much I can do about the face itself.
I’m uncertain about the dial bezel; it should be brass but has a more copper-like colour. The bezel did not age well given the amount of tarnishing.
There is a good label, but it isn’t attached to the case. I may tape it to the inside of the door, as gluing a label with impregnated oil on wood is challenging.
The Plan
I have several other movements to work on before I can get to the Danby, which may remain on the back burner for a few months.
In the meantime, I noticed an issue right away: the center arbour cam hangs on the “J” hook, forcing it against the time side mainspring, which stops the clock. It won’t release unless I advance the minute hand. The movement will need to be completely disassembled to reposition the hook, but that will have to wait for another day.
I recently added two more Pequegnat clocks to my collection: the Dandy model and the Hamilton Tall, the latter of which I will be profiling in this article. I now have a total of 12 Arthur Pequegnat clocks in my possession.
The Hamilton Tall
For those unfamiliar with the Pequegnat name, the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company is arguably the most iconic antique clockmaker in Canada. No Canadian antique clock collection would be complete without a Pequegnat piece.
The Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company
The Pequegnat Clock Company was a Canadian clock manufacturer that operated from 1904 to 1941. It was founded by Arthur Pequegnat, a Swiss immigrant who brought his family to Canada in search of a new beginning.
Pequegnat, a skilled clockmaker and entrepreneur, saw an opportunity to establish his own clock company in Kitchener, Ontario (then known as Berlin). However, the story of the Pequegnat clocks begins even before 1904.
In 1897, Arthur expanded his Berlin jewelry shop to include bicycle manufacturing. By 1904, with declining demand for bicycles, he shifted focus to clockmaking, using his Berlin Bicycle Manufacturing plant to produce clock movements. The company’s motto, “Buy Canadian – Pequegnat clocks are better than foreign-made ones,” resonated with Canadian consumers.
Initially, Pequegnat sourced wooden clock cases from local furniture makers, but eventually, the company began producing its own cases. The Pequegnat Clock Company became known for high-quality, reliable clocks, offering a wide range of designs, including wall clocks, mantel clocks, and hall clocks.
The Hamilton Tall
Cashing in on Canada’s identity as a nation, Pequegnat saw the value in naming clocks after Canadian cities, cities such as Stratford, London, Toronto, Moncton, Montreal, and, of course, Hamilton. This marketing strategy undoubtedly struck a tone with buyers.
Interestingly, there are two models named Hamilton, which collectors differentiate as the “Tall” model and the “Wide” model (or shorter and taller by some). Among the two, the Tall model is considered more desirable by collectors.
Another model, which could have been a variant of the Hamilton but instead named St. Thomas, shares an identical case. However, it has a mission-style dial, which, in my opinion, complements the case more effectively. In the photo below, the St. Thomas is shown in the bottom left corner.
Berlin, Ontario, was renamed Kitchener in 1916, due to anti-German sentiment during World War I. This change provides a useful reference when dating Pequegnat clocks, as labels, movements, or dials marked “Berlin” indicate the clock was made in 1916 or earlier, while those marked “Kitchener” were produced after 1916. However, many Pequegnat models were produced over an extended period, making it challenging to pinpoint exact manufacturing dates for specific clocks.
Time and strike movement with a two-toned strike
A common characteristic of Pequegnat movements is the nickel-plated front and back plates. Nickel-plated movements had a more polished, attractive finish, further appealing to customers.
The Pequegnat Clock Company initially used steel plates for their clock movements but later transitioned to brass plates, with the shift occurring around 1907-1908 (though this date is unconfirmed). Steel plates were more susceptible to rust and corrosion, whereas brass offered greater resistance to corrosion and was easier to machine, making it a more suitable material for clockmaking. Despite this transition, Pequegnat continued to nickel-plate the movements to further protect against wear and enhance the perceived quality of the clocks.
The heavy brass-sheathed pendulum bob is visible through a glass panel on the front of the case.
Two Issues
Two factors keep this clock from being in perfect condition. First, a keen eye will notice that it has two strike hammers but only one rod gong. At some point, the second rod broke off. Tuned rods, considered an upgrade in a Pequegnat clock, contribute to a rich and vibrant sound. I have not investigated the movement closely but it appears that the half-hour strike is meant to strike the rod that is missing.
I spoke with the previous owner, who had the clock for several years, and he mentioned that it was already in that condition when he acquired it. He had been in the process of sourcing a new gong block and rod, but due to personal issues, he was forced to sell off his collection before completing the repair.
Rod block on the upper right of the photo
The second is the lack of a label. Labels often contain artwork, company logos, or slogans, adding to the clock’s aesthetic and historical charm. A clock with an intact, legible label is often considered more desirable and can command a higher price than one without.
That said, the case is in very good condition, and despite minor imperfections—such as one or two nicks and a slightly dented lower left front corner—it has held up remarkably well for a 110-year-old clock.
Case Construction and Condition
The case is made of quarter-sawn oak and stained dark oak. Quarter-sawn oak is not a type of oak but is created by cutting the wood logs at a specific angle—perpendicular to the growth rings. Quarter-sawn oak is more stable and less prone to warping, splitting, or twisting over time compared to flat-sawn wood. This makes it an ideal material for long-lasting clock cases.
A simple yet effective crown
The enemy of a clock case—moisture—is effectively mitigated by using quarter-sawn oak.
Most importantly, quarter-sawn oak enhances the grain in any clock case. The dark stain has a rich, elegant appearance, but it requires cleaning and polishing to restore it to its original condition.
A portion of the interior is unstained
For reasons unknown to this writer the company chose not to stain the entire interior of the case. It is not just this clock but other Hamiltons I have seen online.
The Pequegnat name with Berlin as the place of manufacture is on the bottom part of the dial
The clock was available with two types of dials: a plain spun-brass dial and a piecrust dial. This particular clock features a simpler, more understated dial. The dial itself appears to be enamel-coated, distinguishing it from the painted dials typically found on their less expensive models. All Hamiltons had spade hands.
Carved capitals
A notable feature is the two flanking quarter columns adorned with wood-carved capitals.
A Prestigious Clock for the Times
Arthur Pequegnat manufactured a range of clocks for the general public, but for those who could afford it, more ornate and visually appealing options were available. These luxurious designs conveyed a sense of status and sophistication, making them highly attractive parlour clocks.
Two challenges
In the coming weeks, I will be exploring options for the missing rod gong. Should I look for a replacement gong block and rods, or should I consider finding a second rod?
The second challenge is the case. The case appears to be in good condition and is definitely not a candidate for refinishing; however, a light sanding and waxing might be all it needs to give it a refreshed look.
The previous owner did not service the movement, so it will require cleaning. In the meantime, it runs well, keeps accurate time, and strikes—though only on one gong—on the hour.
Among clock collectors and admirers, the Hamburg American Clock Company is a well-known German company. It is otherwise known as Hamburg Amerikanische Uhrenfabrik or HAU and in many parts of the world, it is simply known as HAC.
Time and strike mantel clock, shown without the crownand as purchased
About the Company
The company was formed in Germany in 1873 by Paul Landenberger and Phillipp Lang. Originally called Landenberger and Lang, it became the Hamburg Amerikanische Uhrenfabrik in 1891. The company was very active from 1885 onward, became a cooperative in the mid-1920s, and eventually merged with Junghans, one of the world’s largest clock companies, in 1930.
Original investors insisted that “American” be in the company name but “American” also refers to the manufacturing system adopted from America. The name of the company adds confusion to the novice repair person who might assume that what they are working on is an American-made clock.
HAU adopted the cross arrows as their trademark in 1892, and it became synonymous with the brand.
HAC trademark
In 1925, a few years before its merger with Junghans, the company had a workforce of 2,200 individuals. Junghans remains a successful and thriving company today, specializing in high-end watches.
Condition of Case and Remarks
The case is in very good condition but was missing the crown when I purchased the clock in 2021. Since then, I have sourced a crown, and based on the research I have conducted online, it appears to be the correct “topper” for this clock.
A crown was sourcedand it definitely improves the look
The dial face is in good condition and shows some wear but not like the heavily worn dials I have seen on similar HAC clocks.
A commemorative brass plaque at the base reads: “The Rev. J. H. Cox Chyndale Wes’ Church Aug. 1926.” I assume this church is in the UK, but my online search yielded no information about this person. However, this inscription helps date the clock to no later than 1926. It is possible the clock may have been on a retailer’s shelf for several months or even up to a year or more before that date.
The Movement | Notes and First Steps in Servicing
In typical HAC fashion, the movement is robust and compact and it is a countwheel strike. The spring barrels are capped in the usual manner but feature four holes that make the mainspring visible. Earlier HAC movements had fully enclosed barrels—perhaps a cost-saving measure to use less brass! Otherwise, everything else is standard HAC.
Four nuts hold the movement plates. Once separated I removed the parts and divided the time and strike wheels.
Take careful note of two wires protruding from the rear plate. They act as tension springs, one for the strike hammer and on the opposite side of the movement, another for the lifting lever. These can easily break off, so handle the movement with care.
After disassembling the movement, it was cleaned in an ultrasonic cleaner. My aim wasn’t to achieve the shiniest brass possible but to ensure the brass and steel parts were thoroughly cleaned. There was some rust on two movement posts, which I removed using emery cloth. All parts were thoroughly dried.
The process may vary, but I moved on to polishing the pivots next. Since pivots are quite delicate, especially the fly, it’s important to handle them with care. Avoid applying excessive pressure on the pivot when using a metal lathe for polishing.
Polishing a pivot with an emery board
I know some repairers prefer to avoid servicing mainsprings due to the difficulty of extracting them. However, it is essential to do so for several reasons. Clean and lubricated mainsprings ensure consistent power, enhancing the clock’s accuracy and performance. Additionally, it provides an opportunity to inspect for defects, cracks, and rust and replace them if necessary.
Once cleaned and lubricated, the springs are returned to their barrels using a spring winder such as the one made by Olie Baker.
Spring barrel in Olie Baker spring winder, with an appropriately sized collar ready to be inserted in the barrel to extract the spring
Since brass is softer than steel pivots one should expect some wear on the bushing holes. There are parts of a clock movement that exhibit more wear than other parts.
For instance, the wheels that spin the fastest are often the areas that show the most bushing wear but wear can show up in other places as well. I noticed punch marks on the cap side of each mainspring barrel. While punching around any bushing hole is generally poor practice, it appears this was done at some point in the clock’s history and can’t be reversed. Nonetheless, the repair seems to have held up well.
Next Steps
After inspecting and cleaning the movement, and polishing the pivots, the next step is to install new bushings. In my next article, I will focus on this process, along with the reassembly and testing of the movement.
A clock spring barrel is a cylindrical component found in spring-driven clocks. Its primary function is to house the mainspring, which stores energy to power the clock.
The mainspring barrel works like this
Themainspringis a tightly coiled strip of metal that, when wound, stores potential energy. The barrel holds the mainspring in place and allows it to unwind in a controlled manner, releasing energy to drive the clock’s gears and ultimately the hands.
Mainspring barrel
The arbour, a shaft running through the center of the barrel, is connected to the winding mechanism by means of a gear. One end of the arbour accommodates a key, used to wind the spring. The other end of the arbour connects to the movement plate. When wound, the arbour twists the mainspring, storing energy. As the mainspring unwinds, it turns the barrel, which transmits power to the clock’s gear train. And that’s it!
A time-only clock made by Empire with a single barrel
A typical clock may have one, two, or even three barrels.
In a clock with a single barrel, the mainspring powers only a timekeeping train. Clocks with two barrels use one to power the time train and the other for the strike train. In clocks with three barrels, each barrel powers a separate function: one for the time train, one for the strike train, and one for the chime function.
Why remove the mainspring
Part of servicing a clock movement involves checking and cleaning the mainsprings.
Over time, the mainspring(s) can accumulate old oil, dirt, and debris, which can impede its smooth operation. Removing the mainspring from the barrel allows for proper cleaning and lubrication, ensuring the clock runs efficiently.
Removing the spring allows you to apply fresh mainspring oil evenly along the entire length of the spring. But that is not the only reason.
Mainsprings can weaken, crack, or break after years of use.
Removing the mainspring from the barrel allows you to thoroughly inspect it for any signs of wear, fatigue, or damage that might require replacement. If the spring is in good condition but the hook end is cracked, it can be reused by cutting the spring and fashioning a new hook end. However, this will make the spring slightly shorter. This task is best suited for an experienced clockmaker. That said, the most straightforward solution is to simply replace the spring.
If the mainspring is no longer functioning properly (e.g., losing power too quickly, damaged, or completely broken), it must be removed and replaced.
Broken mainspring
Regular maintenance, including removing the mainspring when necessary, helps prolong the life of the clock and ensures reliable running.
Remove the barrel from the clock movement:
Complete disassembly of the movement is necessary before working on the mainspring barrels. However, it’s worth noting that some German clocks are designed to allow the barrel to be removed without fully disassembling the entire movement, provided that only a broken mainspring needs to be replaced/repaired.
Ensure the mainspring is fully unwound before proceeding. If it is still wound, use a let-down tool to gradually release the tension.
The letdown key
The barrel consists of a cylindrical case and a cap. The cap is press-fitted in place and must be removed.
Hold the barrel in a gloved hand with the cap facing your palm (and the arbour between fingers), then give it a quick tap against a block of wood. The shoulder on the arbour inside the cap is enough to be able to supply even pressure to the centre of the cap and pop it off. This method ensures that there is no damage, and no scratches, plus it’s very simple to do.
Exercise caution to prevent bending or damaging the barrel. Although a screwdriver can be used to pry open the barrel, the risk of bending the cap or causing unsightly scratches is too great.
A mainspring winder
Attach the mainspring to a mainspring winder by securing the inner end of the mainspring to the winding arbor of the tool.
Mainspring barrel in Olie Baker spring winder, collar readied for the spring
Wind the mainspring slightly to loosen it from the barrel walls. Insert an appropriately sized mainspring collar and slowly unwind the mainspring into the collar and then gently remove it from the barrel.
Use thick leather gloves to handle the mainspring
Wind the spring again to remove it from the collar and then relax the spring for servicing.
The mainspring is inspected for damage, dirt, or rust. I use a Scotch-Brite scouring pad to clean the mainspring of dirt and debris. After cleaning, I wipe the spring with a soft cloth to remove any residue, and then lubricate it with Keystone mainspring oil.
After servicing, it is time to reinsert the mainspring into the barrel. Wind the mainspring tightly, place the collar back on, and secure the spring within it. Insert the collared spring into the barrel, ensuring the hook end catches on the notch inside. Finally, remove the collar and carefully unwind the spring into the barrel.
Using a mainspring winder such as one made by Olie Baker is the safest and easiest method for removing and re-installing the spring, as it ensures controlled release.
A mainspring can be removed manually, and there are plenty of YouTube videos available that demonstrate how to do it “properly.”
In Summary
It’s important to mention that there are specific barrel issues, such as broken catches or bulging barrels, which fall outside the scope of this article.
The mainspring barrel houses the mainspring and enables controlled energy release to drive the clock’s gears and hands. Proper maintenance of the mainspring, including its removal for cleaning and inspection, is essential to prolong the clock’s life. Regular servicing, including checking for wear and replacing damaged mainsprings, helps maintain the clock’s performance and longevity.
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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