The Science Museum in London England occasionally hosts temporary exhibits within the horology section that delve deeper into specific aspects of timekeeping, such as the influence of time on culture or the future of time measurement.
In the spring of 2024, a special exhibit of Zimingzhong clocks captured my attention. For any clock enthusiast, it is a must-see. My wife and I were fortunate to have been in London at the time and spend a few hours on a spring afternoon exploring the museum and the special exhibit.
From a collector’s perspective, encountering Zimingzhong clocks is both humbling and inspiring. As someone who spends much of his time working with Canadian and European clocks — often appreciating honest craftsmanship, practicality, and mechanical ingenuity — these pieces feel almost otherworldly.
They remind us that clocks were not always designed simply to sit quietly on a mantel or hang on a wall and mark the passing hours. In another time and place, they were meant to astonish and amaze.
What strikes me most is the intention behind them. Every detail, from the elaborate cases to the animated figures and musical elements, was created to evoke wonder. The mechanics were important, certainly, but they were only part of the story. These clocks were meant to be experienced. One can imagine the anticipation in an imperial court as a clock came to life on the hour, movement and music transforming a technical device into a performance.
As collectors, we often speak about originality, condition, or rarity, but Zimingzhong clocks challenge us to think beyond those measures. They blur the line between horology and art. Standing in front of one, I found myself less concerned with escapements or strike trains and more aware of the cultural journey that brought such objects into existence — European mechanics interpreted through Chinese artistry and symbolism.
It is a reminder that our shared fascination with clocks crosses borders and centuries.
Zimingzhong clocks represent far more than devices for telling time. Created for the Chinese imperial court during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries—often by highly skilled European craftsmen—these remarkable timepieces combine precise mechanical timekeeping with intricate automata, musical mechanisms, and lavish decorative artistry.
Today, they stand as extraordinary examples of cultural exchange and technical ingenuity, capturing a moment in history when horology, art, and diplomacy came together in some of the most elaborate clocks ever made.
Related Links
Wells Cathedral clock movement at the Science Museum in London; Wells Cathedral, located 31 kilometers south of Bristol in Somerset, England, is a masterpiece of early English Gothic architecture. While most of the Wells Cathedral clock is displayed at the British Science Museum in London England, parts including the hands, dial, and animated figures remain at the Cathedral.
Discover the wonders of Horology at the Science Museum in London, England: The Science Museum in London, England, is one of the city’s most iconic and popular museums, dedicated to inspiring a passion for science in visitors of all ages. Located in the South Kensington area, it is part of the Science Museum Group, which also includes other major museums in the UK.
Among Canadian clocks, some names are immediately recognizable — Pequegnat, Canada Clock Company, Hamilton Clock Company, Wesclox from Peterbourough or Seth Thomas and New Haven imports sold through Canadian retailers. Others, however, tell a quieter story. Walter Clocks of Toronto belongs firmly in that second group, yet its history represents one of the last meaningful chapters of traditional clock manufacturing in Canada.
About two years ago, I made an effort to connect with surviving members of the Stonkus family and was able to reach one of Walter Stonkus’s granddaughters, as I recall. I proposed a question-and-answer format, with the intention of later shaping the material into a blog article. Unfortunately, despite a follow-up, I did not receive any further correspondence.
Since then, I have pieced together what information I could from a variety of online sources including The Canadian Clock Museum, located in Deep River, Ontario (Canada). While there are still some obvious gaps in the story, my goal here is simply to provide a general sense of Walter Clocks and their contribution to clockmaking in Canada.
So, let’s begin.
The company was founded by Walter Stonkus, who immigrated to Canada from Lithuania in 1927. Trained originally as a watchmaker, Walter brought with him both mechanical knowledge and European craftsmanship at a time when Canada was still developing its own manufacturing identity. By the early 1930s, the Toronto-based firm operated under the name Walter Stonkus and Sons Clocks.
From the beginning, the company followed a model common among Canadian makers: build the cases locally while sourcing precision movements from Europe.
Walter’s real strength appears to have been in design and cabinetmaking. Clock cases were produced in Toronto, often using walnut veneer before the Second World War, and stained birch in later years. The quality of the clock cases seems almost at odds with the small size of the company. Despite being a modest operation, Walter produced cases of remarkably high quality.
These early clocks typically featured spiral gongs and reflected the popular mantel styles of the era — practical, handsome, and intended for everyday homes rather than grand showpieces. It is also possible, though unconfirmed, that Walter clocks supplied finished cases to the Forestville Clock Co., operating in Toronto, Ontario (Canada) at the same time.
Like many small manufacturers, the company’s progress was interrupted by the Second World War. Production was suspended, largely due to the difficulty of obtaining imported movements and the broader shift of industry toward wartime needs.
When production resumed after the war, the business entered a new phase. Walter’s son Bill joined the company, and several recognizable design features emerged. Postwar clock cases were often made from stained birch, and many models incorporated what became something of a Walter trademark — a round removable back door that allowed easy access to the movement. German-made Urgos movements, both two-train and three train, powered many of these clocks, combining reliable European mechanics with distinctly Canadian cabinetry.
In many ways, Walter Clocks filled an important gap in Canadian horology. After the closure of the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company in 1941, very few domestic manufacturers remained. Walter Clocks, along with the Forestville Clock Co. of Toronto, helped carry Canadian clockmaking into the mid-20th century, even as the industry itself was beginning to change.
By the 1950s tastes were shifting. Mantel clocks were no longer the focal point of the living room. Television sets were taking their place, and inexpensive electric clocks were rapidly gaining popularity. Like many traditional makers, Walter Clocks adapted by moving into cuckoo clocks, 400-day clocks, and alarm clocks — products that reflected changing consumer demand. Increasing competition from imported clocks further reduced the viability of local production.
Walter Stonkus’s set of Starrett measuring tools
The company ultimately ceased operations sometime in the late 1950s. The exact year — and the precise reasons for closure — remain uncertain, but Walter Clocks had operated in Toronto for more than thirty years, a respectable lifespan for a small Canadian manufacturer navigating enormous technological and cultural change.
Today, Walter clocks occupy an interesting place for collectors. They are not rare in the sense of limited experimental pieces, nor were they mass-produced in American quantities. They were never a large industrial producer, which explains why surviving examples feel scarce today.
Sadly, relatively few of these clocks survive today, and they seldom appear for sale online. While browsing Facebook Marketplace the other day, I came across one very much like the example pictured below, though fitted with a Westminster chimes movement. It was in poor condition and listed as a non-working, parts clock. Otherwise, it was the first example I have seen come up for sale in quite some time.
The Walter Clock Co. represents something uniquely Canadian: practical craftsmanship, locally built cases, and dependable European movements assembled for everyday households.
For collectors like myself, these clocks serve as reminders that horological history is not only written through grand innovations or famous names. Sometimes it is found in the steady work of immigrant craftsmen who built honest, functional objects meant to live quietly on mantels across the country — marking time for generations of Canadian families.
Related Link
Ten active clock companies in Canada in the 1950s; Canadian clock collectors are most familiar with the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company, which closed its doors in 1941 but 7 years later a number of clock companies were alive and flourishing in Canada, predominantly in areas in and around Toronto.
Starting an antique clock collection can be both exciting and a little overwhelming. With so many styles, makers, movements, and time periods to choose from, it’s easy to wonder where to begin. The good news is that you don’t need deep pockets or expert knowledge on day one—just curiosity, patience, and a willingness to learn.
I remember my early days of collecting, when I was eager to add just about anything to my budding collection. Today, I am far more discerning, carefully considering each potential acquisition. However, in my 25 years of collecting, I still own the first clock I would consider a true antique.
Seth Thomas Adamantine Mantel Clock, my very first true antique clock
If you’re thinking about starting your own antique clock collection, I offer some practical tips to help you get started on the right foot.
1. Start With What You Like
The best advice for any collector is simple: buy what you enjoy. Don’t worry about trends, investment value, or what others say you should collect. Whether it’s a simple kitchen clock, a shelf clock, a Vienna regulator, or a mantel clock with a rich patina, choose pieces that genuinely appeal to you.
One of my favorite clocks
If a clock makes you look twice when you enter a room, that’s always a good sign.
2. Learn the Basics Before You Buy
You don’t need to become a horological expert overnight, but learning a few fundamentals will save you money and frustration. Take some time to understand:
Common movements (time-only, time and strike, chiming, spring or weight-driven clocks)
Key terms like escapement, pendulum, mainspring, and strike train
Books, museum visits, online forums, and blogs (like mine) devoted to antique clocks are excellent learning tools. The more you learn, the more confident you’ll feel when evaluating potential purchases. Knowledge is power!
3. Set a Budget—and Stick to It
Antique clocks can range from modestly priced to very expensive. Decide early on what you’re comfortable spending and remember to factor in possible repair costs. A clock that seems like a bargain may need servicing, which can quickly exceed the purchase price.
If you are bidding on a clock online, don’t get caught up in a bidding war. Set a firm limit and be prepared to walk away—other opportunities will inevitably come along.
A surprisingly inexpensive find; a Scottish tall case clock from the 1840s
Many fine antique clocks are still affordable, especially if you’re open to cosmetic wear or minor issues. A well-maintained, honest clock is often a better choice than an over-restored one.
4. Condition Matters More Than Perfection
It’s normal for antique clocks to show signs of age—after all, many are well over a century old. Look for clocks that are complete, structurally sound, and largely original. Missing parts, incorrect replacements, or heavily altered cases can be difficult and costly to correct.
When possible, ask:
Does the clock run?
Has it been serviced recently?
Are all the parts present?
Even if a clock isn’t currently running, it can still be a good purchase if you understand what it may need. In time, you will develop the skills and expertise needed to repair a non-running clock.
5. Buy From Reputable Sources
When starting out, it helps to buy from sellers who know clocks and are willing to answer questions. Antique shops, clock shows, auctions, and fellow collectors can all be good sources. Be cautious with vague descriptions or sellers who can’t provide basic information about the clock.
Over time, you’ll develop a sense for what feels right—and who you can trust.
6. Keep Records of Your Collection
As far as record-keeping, I find myself offering advice I don’t always follow. Perhaps that’s the true challenge of collecting.
From the beginning, get into the habit of keeping notes on your clocks. Record where and when you bought them, the maker, any repairs done, and any interesting history attached to the piece. Photographs are invaluable.
This not only adds enjoyment to collecting but also becomes important for insurance, resale, or passing the clocks on to future generations.
7. Be Patient and Enjoy the Journey
A good clock collection isn’t built overnight. It evolves over time as your tastes change and your knowledge grows. Some clocks will stay with you forever; others may move on as your focus becomes more refined. Although I enjoyed collecting common mantel clocks from the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, that is no longer my focus—and that’s perfectly normal. I wrote an article recently about thedynamic aspect of clock collecting that you might find interesting.
Collecting antique clocks is as much about the stories, craftsmanship, and history as it is about the clocks themselves. I marvel at the stories behind some of my clocks.
8. Investment value
From time to time, antique clocks are promoted as “investments,” but this is often a misunderstanding of both the market and the hobby. While a few rare, high-end pieces may appreciate, most antique clocks do not reliably increase in value once repair, maintenance, and storage costs are considered. Tastes change, markets fluctuate, and selling can be slow and unpredictable. Collecting clocks for enjoyment, historical interest, and craftsmanship is far more rewarding than treating them as a financial strategy.
Ingraham Huron balloon-style shelf clock; Somewhat rare, but collected for appreciation—not investment
Final Thoughts
Starting an antique clock collection is a rewarding pursuit that connects you to history, engineering, and artistry. Take your time, ask questions, learn as you go, and most importantly—enjoy the process. Every clock has a story, and as a collector, you become part of it
This clock wasn’t one I set out to find. My wife and I were wandering through a sprawling antique shop in Almonte, Ontario—the kind of place where time itself seems to stand still. She drifted upstairs while I lingered below, each of us lost in our own quiet hunt. A few minutes later, she appeared at the top of the stairs and called down, “Take a look at this!” I climbed up, curious, and there it was—a clock that neither of us had expected to see, yet somehow felt right. We looked it over, exchanged a knowing glance, and decided the price was fair. A few moments later, it was ours.
For a while, I admired the clock just as it was—until a small detail caught my attention and led me down another path of discovery.
I initially thought the clock was complete until I posted a query on an online clock forum site and discovered that it was missing two trim pieces.
First photo of the clock
However, I also learned that the clock was named the Suffolkand was offered for sale by Waterbury from about 1907 to 1915. The clock is shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury Clocks book on page 270, which includes an image.
It is cased in mahogany, has an eight-day movement, and features a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. The six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial has spade and spear hands and a visible or open escapement. It includes a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15½ inches and 11¾ inches wide, with wooden biscuit feet.
The time and strike movement on a coiled gong
I asked myself what I should do about the missing trim pieces. I also wondered how they had fallen off, but it appears they were glued on at the factory and may have been vulnerable to coming loose if struck. In my experience, once a piece comes off and becomes separated from the clock, it is unfortunately lost forever.
The original pieces were carved mahogany blocks with a center cut-out. Since I don’t have the tools to duplicate that process, and the router bits I have are far too large for this type of work, I decided to come up with what I felt was an acceptable alternative.
I didn’t have any mahogany among my scrap wood selection, but then I remembered some trim pieces I’d received from a friend’s old pump organ about a year ago. At the time, I had no idea how I would use them, and as I suspected, they turned out to be made of mahogany.
Using a table saw, I cut out two test pieces to determine if the repair would work. They looked acceptable, even if not quite sized correctly, and since I had enough mahogany, I set about carefully measuring the final pieces. I decided to stack thinner sections in a relief style—quite the opposite of the original design.
Because the clock’s case parts varied slightly in tone, I knew the new pieces would end up a shade darker.
Test pieces, narrower than the final pieces
I then cut the final pieces, sanded off the finish, glued the sections together, and attached them to the base of the clock using carpenter’s wood glue. The final step was applying two coats of finishing paste wax. The clock now looks more complete, and unless one is familiar with the original design of the missing pieces, they would be hard-pressed to notice the difference.
The final outcome
Making changes to a clock’s case is never easy, for each alteration risks straying from what once was. Yet restoration is, by nature, a communication between the past and the present—to reconcile what time has taken and what care can restore. Though the change departs slightly from the original, it brings balance to the design in my view, and renews the clock’s quiet dignity. In that sense, I am content with the outcome.
Restoring the Suffolk reminded me that even small imperfections can lead to creative solutions. While my replacement trim pieces differ from the factory originals, they complement the clock’s character and preserve its charm—proof that restoration is as much about craftsmanship and ingenuity as it is about authenticity.
For those who appreciate a visual commentary, check out a 3 1/2 minute video I made during the project:
For clock collectors, presentation is just as important as the clocks themselves. A well-arranged collection not only enhances a space but also invites conversation and appreciation. While some collectors prefer to distribute their clocks throughout their home, others opt to showcase them all in one dedicated space. Regardless of your approach, thoughtful arrangement can make a significant difference.
Seth Thomas in an entrance hallway
One general guideline is to avoid clustering too many clocks in one area, allowing each piece to stand out. However, if you prefer to group multiple clocks together, consider organizing them by maker, style, type, era, or country of origin. A collection arranged with a clear theme creates a cohesive and visually appealing display, whereas a more haphazard approach can feel cluttered and overwhelming.
Deciding How Many Clocks to Display
Many collectors set limits on how many clocks are displayed at one time—and how many are actually running. While I keep most of my displayed clocks running, I occasionally let some take a “break.” Changing a clock’s location from time to time can refresh a room’s look, though it’s important to remember that some clocks are sensitive to movement.
Ingraham Huron shelf clock on a Westinghouse floor model radio
For example, in one of my larger rooms, I have four clocks, but they are spaced out so as not to compete for attention. The most striking piece is a 2-weight Gustav Becker Vienna regulator from 1902—at 51 inches tall, it naturally commands the space. On another wall is a Arthur Pequegnat wall clock, an Ingraham shelf clock that sits on an old Westinghouse radio, and a 1996 Ridgeway tall case to complete the arrangement. The layout ensures that each clock is showcased without overwhelming the room.
Gustav Becker and Ridgeway (foreground)
Placement Considerations
Some collectors prefer to dedicate a single room to their clocks, creating a focused display, while others, like myself, enjoy integrating clocks throughout the home. Of course, what works best also depends on what your partner is willing to tolerate!
In my entrance hallway, for example, my Seth Thomas Regulator #2 greets the visitor to my home. Also in the hallway is an Arthur Pequegnat Canadian Time wall clock.
On the second floor, a Pequegnat Brandon schoolhouse clock is positioned where it can be admired, but in keeping with a simple household rule—no striking clocks upstairs to ensure a peaceful night’s sleep.
In the dining room, a Gilbert shelf clock sits atop a 1947 Stromberg Carlson console radio, blending vintage charm with functionality.
The Art of Thoughtful Display
Arranging a clock collection takes more than just placing timepieces on a shelf—it requires an eye for balance, harmony, and practicality. A well-considered display not only highlights the beauty of each clock but also enhances the overall aesthetic of your home. Whether you prefer a carefully curated showcase or a more casual arrangement, the key is to strike a balance between functionality and visual appeal.
Our Kitchen clock
How do you display your collection? Do you prefer grouping clocks together, or spreading them throughout your home? Let me know your thoughts!
While working on my Pequegnat Bedford mantel clock recently, I made an unexpected discovery about the dial and bezel. I had always assumed the six-inch dial was original to the clock, believing it to be an anomaly or a one-off, as every other Bedford I’ve seen features a five-inch dial.
Arthur Pequegnat Bedford mantel clock
Adding to the intrigue, I noticed for the first time that the dial lacks the Arthur Pequegnat inscription on the bottom part of the dial—a detail I had previously overlooked. Every Pequegnat clock I have ever seen has the manufacturer’s inscription on the dial.
No Arthur Pequegnat inscription on the dial
When I acquired the clock some years ago, the bezel door was broken, and as a result, the glass dial bezel was push-fitted into the brass bezel base. The hinge had broken off at some point in its history.
I always intended to fix it, but it just never made it to the top of my to-do list. Recently, I decided to wind the clock and check if it was still running properly. I grabbed the catch to open it, and—whoops!—the dial fell right off. Apparently, I had forgotten it was broken. Well, perhaps this was the day to fix it.
I’d always wondered why the hinge wasn’t working, and sure enough when I inspected the dial and bezel, applied a little heat to the soldered hinge, and pried it loose, I found that only half of the hinge was actually there. Classic!
What is equally amusing is that I completely restored the case four or five years ago and did not notice the replacement dial at the time.
I removed the dial bezel to repair the broken hinge, and I discovered there were no screw holes for the hinge on the clock case itself. Instead, I found three smaller diameter holes, which would have been used to mount a 5-inch dial. This confirmed that the current dial is a replacement. The original design featured an integrated assembly of the dial, bezel, hinge, and glass. This version, however, uses a two-piece dial and bezel, with a hinge that was supposed to be attached to the case.
When Parts Are Not Original
Finding non-original parts on an antique clock is not uncommon, as many clocks have undergone repairs or alterations over the years. These changes may include replacement dials, bezels, hands, or other components that were damaged or lost. While such modifications can affect the clock’s originality and value, they are often part of its history and serve as evidence of its use and care over time.
Whether or not to replace non-original parts depends on your goals as a collector. If preserving originality is a priority, you might seek authentic replacement parts from the same era. However, if functionality and appearance are your main concerns, modern replacements or custom solutions can be a practical choice.
There are times, like this one, when the discovery comes long after you’ve acquired the clock.
In any event, it is essential to document any changes for future reference, especially if the clock is sold, to ensure its history is transparent.
The Hinge Repair
Arthur Pequegnat Bedford mantel clock
I plan to reuse the bezel but will attach a new hinge. I went through my collection of hinges to find the one that would be the best fit and while not exact I found one that was close.
The first step is to remove the hinge from the glass/brass bezel. It came off easily with a solder gun. I am the first to admit that my soldering skills are not top notch but I am eager to do my best.
The next step is to attach the new hinge to the dial/brass bezel. Once attached, it is test-fitted with the glass/bezel to ensure there is sufficient clearance for the door to close. In this case, there is not enough clearance, so I will need to grind down a section of the dial bezel. What initially seemed like a simple job has now become more complicated.
The Seth Thomas Type 89 movement is a robust and well-regarded mechanical clock movement widely used in many of Seth Thomas’ mantel and shelf clocks from the early 20th century to 1938.
The movement was introduced in 1900 and became one of Seth Thomas’ most popular and enduring movements.
There are several variants (89A, 89C, 89D, etc.), each tailored to specific clock models. The differences often involve small design adjustments like the escapement, strike train, or gearing. For example, some had solid back plates, some cut out, and some had a passing bell on the half-hour.
All Type 89 movements are time and strike and eight-day running and most use a strip pallet deadbeat escapement or according to Seth Thomas’s literature a “half deadbeat” escapement which is reliable and relatively easy to service. The most striking difference between the half-deadbeat and a recoil escapement is that the escape wheel teeth slant forward into the direction of rotation. Advantages: it was cheap to produce and still has fairly decent time-keeping ability.This video (no sound) shows the action of the escapement.
I consulted a chart (below) describing all the variations of the 89 and from what I can deduce this one is a type 89C movement.
Two Important strike-side Issues
The movement was in good condition overall. It was cleaned up and three new bushings were installed. The escape wheel bushings front and back were the most worn. The next was the fourth wheel front plate, adjacent to the escape wheel.
Testing the depthing of the wheels
One minor hiccup when reassembling was dealing with a broken helper spring on the lifting lever. Shortening the spring by taking one coil off the arbour did not pose any running issues.
Taken directly from the case on the day of purchase
However, once the cleaning and wear issues were addressed two other problems remained. The strike would not go into warning and the hammer did not move when the strike side was pushed to run.
It seems that whoever previously worked on it did not properly set up the strike side, likely neglecting to position the stop wheel correctly to ensure the strike mechanism would go into warning. Warning refers to a brief preparatory phase in the strike mechanism. This occurs just before the clock strikes. When the time approaches a strike point (such as the hour or half-hour), the movement enters the warning phase to prepare for the strike sequence. The warning phase is essential for ensuring the clock strikes consistently and on time. Improper setup of the warning phase can lead to the strike train failing to run.
While reassembling the movement, position the paddle lever in one of the indents on the cam while ensuring the paddle itself rests in a deep slot of the count wheel. The paddle should be straight into the deep slot without touching either side and pointed directly at the main wheel arbour.
The warning wheel can be adjusted after reassembly. Once all the wheels and levers are in their respective locations, carefully separate the plates slightly at the flywheel corner, ensuring no other components shift out of place. Then, when the pivot is out of its hole and the lantern pinion is disengaged from the adjacent gear, rotate the stop wheel until its pin meets the stop lever. If the levers are correctly positioned, the movement will enter the warning phase.
The stop wheel is at the upper right,with the pin
The second issue involved the hammer strike. A previous repairer had over-bent the strike rod, creating alignment problems. On the opposite side of the strike cam wheel are two striking pins, which the strike rod must reach to activate the hammer and sound the coiled gong. In this case, the rod had been positioned too close to the center, preventing it from contacting the strike pins. After some trial and error and careful bending of the strike rod, the movement is now properly aligned and able to sound the strike.
The final step is thorough testing. Placed on the test stand, the movement will be carefully monitored over the next several days to ensure everything functions smoothly and reliably.
A Special Note
I would also like to recognize Saint Valentine’s Day (February 14th) and I hope that everyone takes the time to cherish those around them, whether through a kind word, thoughtful gesture, or simply appreciating the moments that make life special. Happy Valentine’s Day!
For years, my Seth Thomas column and cornice clock rested atop an antique radio in our living room. However, after redecorating the space with hardwood flooring in place of the carpet, the radio and clock no longer suited the updated space.
Seth Thomas column and cornice “Empire” style time and strike weight driven shelf clock
I did not want to relegate the clock to storage, so I opted to find it a new spot in our home. Since most of the other rooms already had plenty of clocks, I decided to display it in my office.
This lovely Seth Thomas time and strike eight-day weight-driven column and cornice clock with hour strike features an attractive veneer case with cove molded crest, lyre movement, three-quarter columns in painted gold, and two glass doors, one with a reverse painted design, opening to the interior clock works which reveal a tin painted dial and the original printed and illustrated Seth Thomas clock makers label. It is 32″ tall, 18″ wide and 5“ deep.
The dial had some losses
The clock has one unique detail: while the lower tablet is original, the upper tablet was recreated from a photograph of hanging fruit, modified to complement the design below. Additionally, the dial, which had suffered some losses in the corners and chapter ring, was repainted.
The painted tin Roman Numeral dial has hand-decorated flower spandrels in all four corners with the centre portion of the brass lyre movement visible through the dial.
Among collectors an appropriate descriptor for this clock is “column and cornice” but it is also generally classified as a shelf clock. This particular clock features a hook on the top of its case, likely intended by a past owner for installation that way. While I have seen similar clocks mounted like this online, they were never originally designed to be hung.
However, the hook might serve an additional purpose. Given that these clocks can become top-heavy when fully wound, the hook could be an effective way to secure the clock to a wall, especially in areas where it might be easily bumped.
Building the Shelf
The first step was to build a shelf to accommodate the clock. I had some leftover 8-inch-deep pine boards from a previous project, which were ideal for this purpose. I purchased extra pine braces some time ago, and they turned out to be perfect for completing the project. I cut a piece about 22 inches long and painted it a shade of beige. The base of the clock is 18 inches leaving 2 inches on either side.
Pine board and braces
The next step was to mount the braces to the wall. Knowing the room had studs spaced 16 inches apart, I used a stud finder to locate the first stud and then measured 16 inches to find the second one.
Sixteen inches on centre
Once the braces were mounted and made level I installed the shelf using wood screws.
The clock is positioned on the shelf
Checking for the Correct Beat
Now to determine if the shelf is level and the clock is in beat. Using a Timetrax Clock Timing Machine I switched to the BAL feature to check the beat.
Timetrax microphone attached to the winding arbour
A beat adjustment was unnecessary as the clock was already leveled. If leveling were needed, it would simply involve slightly bending the crutch incrementally to find the beat. While checking the beat can easily be done by ear, it made sense to use my Timetrax device for greater precision.
Timetrax Clock Timing Machine
According to the Timetrax instruction manual If the beat is within plus or minus 20 the clock is in beat. In this case, it was almost dead on.
Seth Thomas clock mounted on a shelf (note repainted dial)
Once the beat is confirmed, the weights are replaced, the hands and dial can be reattached, and the pendulum is given a slight push.
After confirming the beat the clock was ready to be displayed in its new spot. This Seth Thomas column and cornice clock, with its exquisite veneer case and distinctive features, now takes pride of place in my office, where it brings an added touch of elegance to the room. Moreover, since the room houses many spring-driven clocks, a weight-driven clock will provide a more accurate reference for timekeeping.
I’m pleased to have found a new location for it, as it truly deserves to be on display.
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!
I often wonder about the stories behind my clocks.
Antique and vintage clocks evoke a time when life seemed simpler, a stark contrast to today’s frenetic pace. Old clocks serve as living memories, cherished relics of people and places that are long gone but not forgotten.
Ideally, they should be passed down through generations. Yet, when I look at online marketplaces, it’s clear that many clocks no longer stay within their original families. I can’t help but wonder—has sentimentality lost its place in today’s world?
Out of the 35 clocks displayed throughout our home (a small part of my collection), I wish I knew the stories behind every single one of them. If only they could talk! What tales they would share.
Still, two of my clocks come with stories that I hold dear to my heart.
Junghans Crispi time and strike wall clock
One of my clocks survived the 1917 Halifax Explosion. It is a Junghans Crispi wall clock. I know this because the previous owner had kept it in their family for over 100 years. It wasn’t in the condition you see it in today, though. It came to me as a box of parts, and I imagine they decided it was time to let it go after holding onto it for so long. They hoped that whoever bought it would bring it back to its former glory.
After restoring the clock, I contacted the former owner to show them what I’d done, sending them a photo of the clock in its restored state. I never heard back and I assume they experienced a bit of seller’s remorse.
However, I often look at the clock and try to imagine that fateful day, December 6, 1917, when it fell from the wall in a modest North Halifax home and broke into dozens of pieces.
Ingraham Huron shelf clock
Another story belongs to my Ingraham Huron shelf clock (circa 1878). It was a rare find considering it was made between 1878 and 1880. Some might call the style a balloon clock. It came from a small village outside Bridgewater, Nova Scotia. My wife and I made a day of the trip, enjoying lunch and some shopping after picking up the clock from an elderly couple who were in the process of separating.
The clock’s story unfolded when we met the couple selling it. The gentleman, in his early seventies, recalled seeing the clock in his grandmother’s home when he was a child. After some conversation, we learned that the couple was separating amicably, with the wife planning to move into an apartment nearby. “We need to get rid of a lot of stuff,” he told us. It was a bittersweet moment, knowing they were parting with something tied to childhood memories. My wife and I left with the clock, reflecting on how our connection to objects, even sentimental ones, can change over time.
It seems sentimentality can have a price. People grow tired of the things they once cherished or feel the need to unburden themselves of objects tied to past relationships and memories. Nostalgia can bring comfort, but for some, it may not be enough to hold onto the past.
I often wonder what will happen to my clocks when I’m gone. My wife knows that I’m not emotionally attached to all of them. Some were simply acquisitions that served to give me projects that helped me grow as a hobbyist. Yet, there are several clocks that I hope my children will keep—the ones I’ve spent countless hours restoring, the ones with stories and history.
Among them are my twelve Arthur Pequegnat Canadian-made clocks, two Vienna regulators, a Seth Thomas Empire-style clock, a Sessions Beveled No. 2, my Ingraham Huron, and my Junghans Crispi wall clock.
These clocks represent a blend of history, personal connection, and the passion I’ve poured into them. I think my kids will appreciate that.
About a year ago, I shifted my focus to collecting clocks made in Canada or those with a Canadian connection. Of course, there are exceptions if a particularly interesting clock comes along. In keeping with my goal, I won three Canadian clocks this week at auction: an Arthur Pequegnat Hamilton “Tall”, an Arthur Pequegant Dandy, and an ogee crafted by the Canada Clock Company of Ontario. All are shelf or mantel clocks. Two are spring-driven while the third is powered by weights.
Since the bidding was online, I don’t have the clocks yet, but I expect them to arrive within the next week or so.
Arthur Pequegnat Hamilton “Tall“
I’m not sure what inspired me to take a photo of the Hamilton during my visit to The Canadian Clock Museum in Deep River, Ontario this past summer—but I did! Maybe it was a secret wish to own one someday.
Pequegnat Hamilton shelf clock
The clock I photographed features a piecrust dial, while the one I won at auction has a plain dial. Both styles were available in the early 1900s.
The Arthur Pequegnat Hamilton “tall” shelf clock is a classic piece from one of Canada’s most renowned clockmakers. Named after the city of Hamilton, Ontario, this model is part of Pequegnat’s line of shelf and mantel clocks and showcases the craftsmanship that made the company famous.
The Hamilton “Tall” features a distinctive upright design, making it stand out among other Pequegnat clocks. It had either a piecrust or plain dial (as I mentioned), adding to its collectible nature. The clock is typically housed in a sturdy wooden case often made with quarter-sawn oak, with half columns and capitals, an attractive crown, making it a simple yet elegant style.
The Hamilton “Tall” features an 8-day time and strike movement with distinctive nickel-plated movement plates, powered by a spring-driven movement. It strikes on both the hour and half-hour.
The Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company, founded in 1903, was one of the few successful clock manufacturers in Canada, with the Hamilton model being one of its many iconic designs. As Pequegnat clocks were made exclusively in Canada (Berlin, later Kitchener, Ontario), they hold significant value for Canadian clock collectors, and owning a Hamilton “tall” shelf clock is like holding a piece of Canadian horological history.
It’s often challenging to determine a clock’s condition from auction photos, but this one seems to be in good shape. Unfortunately, it lacks a label, which is a minor disappointment.
Arthur Pequegnat Dandy
The Dandy is a compact and attractive mantel clock, featuring a solid wooden case, often crafted from oak. The case design is simple yet elegant, with clean lines and minimal ornamentation, giving it a classic, timeless appeal. The dial is plain with black Arabic numerals, making it easy to read.
The Dandy is also powered by an 8-day time and strike spring-driven movement. It strikes the hour and the half-hour. The movement is well-known for its durability and precision, hallmarks of Pequegnat craftsmanship.
Although not as grand as some of the larger models like the “Hamilton,” it has its own charm, particularly for collectors who appreciate smaller, more understated clocks.
From the auction photos, I can tell the clock is in average condition, which is reflected in the relatively low price I paid for it.
Canada Clock Company 30-hour ogee with Alarm
The Canada Clock Company’s 30-hour ogee clock is a significant piece in the history of Canadian clockmaking. The ogee clock design itself was popular in North America during the 19th century, and the Canada Clock Company produced their own version during their brief existence.
The ogee clock is named for its case design, which features the distinctive “S” or double curve molding along the front, giving it an elegant and classic appearance.
The Canada Clock Company’s ogee clocks were typically made with wooden cases, often finished in mahogany or rosewood veneer. The clock has a large rectangular face, featuring Roman numerals, and a clear glass lower panel that reveals the pendulum.
This model is equipped with a 30-hour movement, which means it needs to be wound daily. The movement is powered by weights, which descend slowly as the clock runs. The clock only strikes the hour. The use of a 30-hour movement made this a more affordable option for consumers at the time compared to clocks with 8-day movements. This clock also has an alarm feature.
The auctioneer advised that there is an issue with the coil or rod gong, something I will look into once I receive the clock. The case, I am told, has been refinished.
The Canada Clock Company operated in Ontario during the 1870s and early 1880s. It was one of Canada’s first significant clock manufacturers, aiming to compete with the American clock industry. Although the company’s existence was short-lived, their clocks are highly valued by collectors today for their historical importance and their role in establishing Canadian clockmaking. The 30-hour ogee clock is a prime example of a typical mid-19th-century clock that found its way into many Canadian homes.
It was a very successful auction day. For each clock, my wife and I adhered to our strategy of setting a maximum bid well beforehand, which helped us secure all three pieces effectively.
In sum, the Hamilton is a classic shelf clock with a distinctive upright design, a quarter-sawn oak case. Though lacking a label and with condition difficult to assess from photos, it appears to be in good shape.
The Dandy is a compact mantel clock with a simple, elegant oak case and plain dial. Its condition is average, reflecting the modest auction price.
The 30-hour Ogee is a classic 19th-century ogee clock with “S” curve molding and a 30-hour movement. It features an alarm and has a refinished case, with a noted issue with the gong.
Each clock adds a unique piece of Canadian horological history to my collection.
The Science Museum in London, England, is one of the city’s most iconic and popular museums, dedicated to inspiring a passion for science in visitors of all ages. Located in the South Kensington area, it is part of the Science Museum Group, which also includes other major museums in the UK.
The museum was founded in 1857 and has since grown into one of the world’s foremost institutions for the collection, preservation, and display of scientific, technological, and medical achievements. It boasts a vast collection of over 300,000 objects that chart the history of innovation and exploration in science and technology.
The Science Museum houses some of the most famous scientific artifacts in the world, including Stephenson’s Rocket (a pioneering early steam locomotive), the first jet engine, and a model of DNA.
Early steam engine (not the Rocket)
The museum is organized into several galleries, each focusing on a specific theme, and while it offers a wealth of experiences to its visitors, the area that captivated me the most was the horology section.
Horology Section | Measuring Time
The horology exhibit at the Science Museum in London, known as the “Measuring Time” gallery, is a fascinating display that showcases the evolution of timekeeping technology and the intricate craftsmanship of clocks and watches.
View of the gallery
The exhibit features an extensive collection of timepieces ranging from early mechanical clocks to modern wristwatches.
George Stratford, left, John May on the right
Among the highlights are medieval astronomical clocks, early pocket watches, and marine chronometers used for navigation.
Atmos clock 1955
A standout section is dedicated to the work of John Harrison, a self-taught clockmaker who solved the problem of longitude at sea with his marine chronometers. These are considered some of the most important timekeeping devices ever created, crucial for safe and accurate navigation.
John Harrison watch
The exhibit includes several ornate astronomical clocks that not only tell time but also track celestial events such as the phases of the moon and the positions of the stars. These clocks are masterpieces of both art and science.
Christopher Pinchbeck
The Clockmakers’ Company collection, one of the oldest in the world, is on display within the museum. It features a range of exquisite clocks and watches, many of which are beautifully decorated and demonstrate the high level of craftsmanship involved in horology.
Original desk from the Clockmakers’ Company
Throughout the exhibit, there are explanations of the technological advancements in timekeeping, from the invention of the pendulum clock by Christiaan Huygens to the development of quartz and atomic clocks. The exhibit explores how these innovations have impacted society, science, and industry.
Zimingzhong exhibit
The museum occasionally hosts temporary exhibits within the horology section that delve deeper into specific aspects of timekeeping, such as the influence of time on culture or the future of time measurement.
In the spring of this year (2024) a special exhibit of Zimingzhong clocks grabbed our attention. What is a Zimingzhong clock? It’s a clock that tells the time; moves, makes a musical sound, and has symbolic significance.
These clocks feature elaborate decorations and are typically made from materials like bronze, jade, or lacquered wood.
They reflect the rich artistic traditions and horological expertise of China.
Zimingzhong clocks are not just timekeeping devices but also serve as symbols of status and wealth. They are often considered art pieces, showcasing the skill of Chinese craftsmen.
From the mesmerizing horology section, where intricate timepieces and historic clocks showcase the artistry and precision of timekeeping, to the interactive exhibits that ignite curiosity and wonder, the British Science Museum offers an enriching experience for all.
Tower or Turret clock
Whether you’re exploring the evolution of scientific discoveries or marveling at the ingenuity behind groundbreaking inventions, the Science Museum provides a unique opportunity to appreciate the impact of science on our world and its role in shaping our future.
This clock stands out as one of the most distinctive pieces in my collection. At first glance, it appears to be an ordinary desk clock, but it has a fascinating history behind its production. I can easily picture it sitting on the desk of an import-export executive in the 1950s.
Kienzle World Time clock
The first Kienzle World Time clock was given to Adolf Hitler on his 50th birthday in 1939 by the government of Württemberg. The clock featured a classic design with a world map in the “Mercator” cylindrical map projection style and a rotating scale displaying the time in various cities. It was designed by Heinrich Johannes Möller, a renowned designer working for Kienzle from 1931 to 1970. Möller was hired at the age of 27 and became the principal designer at Kienzle.
The original clock had a bulky base and was adorned with a controversial pattern around the bezel. I have a photo of the original clock, but I chose not to share it due to the presence of swastika symbols on the clock. The swastika is now widely associated with hate and discrimination.
After the war, the design was updated: the decorations were removed, and the base was reduced in size, while the overall layout of the dial remained consistent across different versions of the clock. These versions ranged from early mechanical models to electro-mechanical versions and, eventually, quartz movements in the 1980s.
An interesting aspect of the clock is that it originally positioned Germany at the center of the world. In its update, the area around the center cannon shows North Africa.
The World Time Clock, also known as the Weltzeituhr model, was a long-running product available for purchase until Kienzle’s bankruptcy in 1996. When the World Time Clock was first introduced in 1939, Kienzle employed over 6,500 people and produced 5 million clocks annually.
Kienzle clockshowing the winding key and setting knob in the rear
In the late 1950s and 1960s, Kienzle clocks shifted away from their original stylistic prominence and began to follow contemporary international design trends. Despite this shift, Heinrich Johannes Möller continued to play a key role, influencing not only the design of Kienzle clocks but also the broader world of clock design.
Mechanical clocks are highly valued and sought after by collectors due to their craftsmanship and traditional design. These versions are typically considered more valuable than modern electromechanical and quartz alternatives.
Seth Thomas is a well-known American clock manufacturer with a long history, and they produced a variety of clock movements over the years. The Type 89 movement is one of the many clock movements produced by Seth Thomas between 1900 and 1938.
Seth Thomas mantel or shelf clock
The mantel clock in question features the Type 89 movement. Acquired in the summer of 2023, this clock boasts a simple and straightforward design.
The focus then shifted to the disassembly process and my examination of the widely-used Seth Thomas Type 89 clock movement.
My observations highlighted a replaced mainspring on the strike side, the necessity for bushing work, and indications of rust, all of which posed challenges that I committed to addressing in subsequent stages such as cleaning, bushing, oiling, and reassembly.
The focus of this blog post is the completion of servicing of this type 89 clock movement.
Front of the type 89 movementbefore disassembly
Cleaning of the mainsprings
There is always the temptation to do nothing with the mainsprings if they look acceptable. However, cleaning the mainsprings is an essential part of clock servicing. Uncoiling and wiping the dirt and grime from the mainsprings with a cloth is the preferred method, but cleaning them with an ultrasonic cleaner is also an option.
In Part I, I cleaned the mainsprings in my ultrasonic cleaner and provided a rationale for this decision. Before I go any further, I’d like to emphasize a crucial point regarding the cleaning of mainsprings in an ultrasonic cleaner. This practice is not recommended and should only be considered as a last resort.
While cleaning mainsprings in an ultrasonic cleaner has little impact on the surfaces or mechanism of the cleaner itself the oil removed from the mainsprings generates a black liquid that contaminates the cleaning solution, rendering it ineffective for future use.
Seth Thomas type 89 mainsprings, note the replacement spring on the right
Clamps have been applied to secure the mainsprings after oiling, and they’ve been set aside. Now, we move on to the next step: the bushing phase.
Backplate removed
Bushing the movement
As the movement is fully disassembled this is the stage where bushing work can be done. I commend individuals who choose to bush by hand, but personally, It is not for me.
Various systems exist for bushing, with KWM and Bergeon being the two most widely adopted. It’s worth noting that neither system is inherently superior to the other, as preferences tend to vary among enthusiasts. When referring to a “system,” it’s important to understand that the bushings from one system are not interchangeable with those from the other.
That said I use the Bergeon system.
Bergeon Bushing Machine
Before bushing, I identify all the locations requiring attention and mark them with a Sharpie. There is no permanent mark as rubbing alcohol will easily remove all traces of ink.
I have an excellent assortment of bushings and have all the required ones for this project.
An assortment of Bergeon bushings, #5488
Using cutters each hole is drilled out and chamfered, that is, removing the sharp edges to allow the pushings to be pressed in smoothly. As I insert each new bushing I test the fit by assembling the wheels to check how freely they move. This allows me to make small adjustments in the event the pivot is too tight in the bushing hole.
Cutting into a brass plate
Based on my initial assessment, the bushings for both the front and back plates of the escape wheel were the most worn. The next new bushing is the fourth wheel front plate, the one adjacent to the escape wheel. After three bushings everything looks good and the wear further down the train does not look too bad. A fourth bushing for the fourth wheel should be enough.
A cutting broach is used to enlarge any holes that are a tight fit for a pivot followed by a smoothing broach. To prepare for the wheels to go back in place all bushing holes are cleaned with pegs/toothpicks.
Test fitting the time-side wheels during the bushing process
In the photo above, the plates and gears look shinier after a session with the ultrasonic cleaner. However, it’s important to note that the main goal in clock repair isn’t to make everything as shiny as possible. The focus is on reducing wear and tear. Some dirt and grime on the plates might not come off completely during the cleaning process in every case and it is not something the clock repairer should be overly concerned with.
Back to bushing. There is a little bit of play on the second and third wheels but it is tolerable so, I think I will stop at this point.
Punching a bushing into the plate
Were I in the clock repair business I would bush everything on the time train, or the entire movement for that matter, but since I usually inspect movements in my collection every 2-3 years I can address any additional wear at that time.
On to the strike train. In the first article, I mentioned that there was not much wear on the strike side which might be attributable to that side not being wound as often. The only hole that must be addressed is the cam wheel bushing on the front plate. Why this bushing hole is worn much worse than the others is a bit of a mystery.
Okay, all the work is done for a total of five new Bergeon bushings. The holes have been pegged, and the movement is now ready to be reassembled.
The one hiccup encountered during the bushing process was the malfunction of my caliper tool. Fortunately, this isn’t a major problem, as all the Bergeon bushings are uniform at 3.5mm outside diameter, with inside diameters of either 1.4mm or 1.5mm so I knew what size to grab first.
Reassembly
When dealing with American 8-day time and strike movements, there are challenges in configuring the strike mechanism accurately. Occasionally, luck is on my side, and I manage to place the paddle in the deep slot, position the lever in the lowest part of the cam wheel, and align the warning wheel just right on the first attempt.
A useful tip. If the lever is in the lower part of the cam wheel and the paddle is not in the deep slot, simply move the toothed count wheel sideways so that it does not engage the pinon and reposition the wheel till the paddle finds the deep slot.
No luck setting up the strike this time! If the strike train does not lock correctly it will simply keep on running and you will know that soon enough.
The plates can be partially pried open without the risk of all the wheels and levers springing out. Repositioning the warning wheel involves moving the fly aside, carefully extracting the 4th wheel from its pivot hole, and rotating it a quarter turn or so to ensure the warning pin aligns with the stop lever.
Seth Thomas movement on the test stand
A minor issue with the hammer lever surfaced as it was not aligning correctly with the strike pins on the cam wheel. No disassembly of the movement is required for this adjustment. Simply loosen the bottom two nuts by the mainsprings, and the strike hammer can be removed to straighten it. After having been bent multiple times over the years, straightening it out resolved the issue.
Next, the movement is oiled with Keystone clock pivot oil and mounted on a test stand. After a week it is running and striking as it should.
And lastly, my new caliper arrived just as I was concluding the servicing on this clock.
Addendum
To properly configure the strike side, pay attention to the positioning of the levers as pointed out by the arrows.
ST movement
In the above photo, the lower arrow shows the paddle in the deep slot, and the upper arrow shows the drop lever in the indent of the cam.
Seth Thomas movement
The upper arrow shows the position of the stop pin on the stop wheel. The lower arrow shows the locking lever.
Seth Thomas is a well-known American clock manufacturer with a long history, and they produced a variety of clock movements over the years. The Type 89 movement is one of the many clock movements produced by Seth Thomas over the years. This type was made between 1900 and 1938.
I acquired this mantel clock during the summer of 2023. From a distance, it looked very good but upon closer inspection what I thought was a rosewood veneer finish was in fact, a thin wrapper, so a bit of a disappointment.
The simple lines of this clock was the main attraction
However, the focus of this blog post is not the clock’s case but the ubiquitous type 89 clock movement found within that made its way into thousands of Seth Thomas clocks.
Disassembly
The first step is to remove the hour and minute hands. Working from the back, four case screws release the movement from its case. Things will go along more smoothly if the coiled gong is removed as well.
Looking at the back plate, the suspension spring and rod must be removed first. Then comes the regulating adjustments screw and rod which consists of releasing 3 machine screws and then pulling out the spline gear which is operated through the clock face by the small end of a double-ended winding key. Once that hardware is removed it is on to the removal of the back plate.
Aview of the movement
There are 4 nuts (plus the pendulum rod retainer screw) to be removed, however, it is advisable to unhook the helper spring at the top and the hammer spring at the bottom before lifting up the plate. This will prevent the wheels from being dislodged as the back plate is removed.
If the wheels spring out, reassembling the wheels becomes a challenging task of guesswork to determine their correct locations, especially for beginners.
Brass helper spring hooked around a post
As each part is removed place them in a hobby tray or receptacle so that nothing will be lost or misplaced. No matter what the skill level, separating the time side gears from the strike side is always a good practice.
Findings
Upon lifting the back plate, my initial observation was the replacement of the mainspring on the strike side at some point in the clock’s life.
Whenever I encounter a replaced mainspring, my immediate focus shifts to inspecting potential damage to the main wheel teeth and the lantern pinions in the second and third wheels. This is because the force of a break occasionally causes secondary damage along the gear train. This is often referred to as collateral damage. Fortunately, the components up the train in this movement are undamaged.
Backplate removed
An initial inspection of wear indicates a need for five new bushings on the time side, while only one is necessary on the strike side. Further examination may reveal more once a more detailed assessment is conducted.
Interestingly, the strike side shows less wear, indicating that it was seldom wound. My assumption is that after the repair of the mainspring, the owner decided it wasn’t worth the risk of another mainspring break and chose not to wind it frequently or at all.
More concerning is evidence of rust on the movement posts, some pivots, and the lantern pinions. The clock was obviously stored in a humid location for a period.
Mainsprings
All parts were cleaned in the ultrasonic cleaner and thoroughly dried.
Despite my best efforts, I could not separate the main wheels from the mainsprings. I opted to place both the wheel and mainspring in the ultrasonic cleaner. This is not a typical practice for me as it dirties the cleaning solution and limits resue, but I intend to dispose of the cleaning solution after this servicing.
Ultrasonic cleaner
That’s all for now
Despite encountering disappointment in the clock’s case, the disassembly and findings of the ubiquitous Seth Thomas Type 89 clock movement revealed a replaced mainspring on the strike side, a need for bushing work, and evidence of rust, presenting challenges that will be addressed in the upcoming stages of cleaning, bushing work, oiling, and reassembly.
I will conclude here and save the remaining details of the servicing for a subsequent post.
My apologies for the wordplay in the title. I recently encountered an issue with the striking mechanism in a German clock I’m currently repairing, and in this article, I would like to describe my experience with the repair.
I have to admit it is a frustrating problem that could have been a disaster but I came up with a solution that should work.
Junghans movement on the test stand
The other day I was investigating why the strike side of a Junghans time and strike movement was not functioning correctly and discovered a portion of a small stamped metal part on the exterior of the movement had bent.
I had simply pried too hard when unbending a part of the stamped metal piece and it snapped off, which surprised me. It was a very small piece and when it flew off it was hidden in the clutter of my work area but I was successful in retrieving it. Without that small piece, I was not certain I could make the repair.
The movement in the case
Perhaps I do not have the correct name for the part that bent but let’s call it the strike actuator. The strike actuator when activated lifts a lever to begin the strike process. The activator is attached to the front plate with a small machine screw and is free to move.
On the center arbor is a star cam. The 2 points on the star cam rotate every 30 minutes until a star point pushes the strike actuator to begin the strike sequence. A protruding piece of metal, the contact piece for the star point on the actuator, is the part that broke as I was attempting to unbend it.
Junghans movement side view
Needless to say, I was crestfallen. What do I do now!
There are essentially three ways of addressing a situation like this.
If I had enough spare parts, the straightforward fix would be to replace the problematic part by taking it from a donor movement. However, whereas I have an ample supply of spare American movements for American clock repairs, unfortunately, I lack spare German movements for parts.
To my knowledge, there is no established source for Junghans clock parts. While clock parts suppliers offer various components for common repairs like escapements and mainsprings, smaller parts like this are typically not readily available in their inventory.
The second solution is to simply have a nonfunctioning strike side but a clock that at the very least, tells the time.
The third alternative involves undertaking a repair, as there appears to be a potential for some sort of restoration. So, I chose to fix it. Although I cannot assure the repair’s absolute success, my intention is to conduct thorough testing to assess its effectiveness.
The Repair
To repair the actuator there is no need to disassemble the movement. One small slotted screw holds it in place. Release the screw and it is ready to be worked on.
To repair the actuator, I used a high-temperature butane torch along with a solder containing a significant amount of silver. It comes in spools and looks much like aluminum wire.
Silver solder is known for its higher melting point compared to other solder types, ensuring greater durability and reducing the risk of weld cracking.
Using hobby alligator clamps, I securely held together the broken piece and the actuator, eliminating the need to handle the pieces manually. After securing them, I dabbed flux in the weld area and then applied heat until the metal changed color and then proceeded to apply the solder.
The stamped metal black part is the actuatorand here you can see the successful repair
The challenging part involved aligning the fractured piece onto the actuator. I had to carefully maneuver the clamps to ensure they were positioned correctly for the welding process. The actual soldering was the easy part and literally took seconds.
After a few minutes, I reattached the actuator. I then wound both the strike and time side of the movement and observed the action of the actuator as it went through the strike sequence. It worked!
I plan to keep the movement on the test stand for a couple of weeks or more but after running it for four days the weld has held.
Final thoughts
Tackling the repair of the actuator in this Junghans clock posed its challenges, particularly in aligning and securing the broken piece onto the actuator. Importantly, in any clock servicing, mistakes may occur, but it’s crucial to remember that there are ways to address and rectify many errors. Whether through additional adjustments, alternative techniques, or seeking guidance, the learning process in clock repair involves both successes and challenges.
In the end, the commitment to problem-solving enhances one’s skills, making each repair experience a valuable lesson in the pursuit of clock repair.
During the winter months, I teach part-time in a justice program at our local community college. The other day, I had a former student visit this blog and she commented on her admiration for one of my clocks, specifically a time and strike crystal regulator by Ansonia.
Thanks, Cate for allowing me the opportunity to profile this clock once again!
American-made 4-glass clocks are commonly referred to as crystal regulators
First a history of how I acquired the clock and what I know about it. While exploring an antique shop in Bloomfield, Ontario, my wife came across an intriguing find – an antique glass-cased brass time-and-strike American-made clock with an open Brocot escapement, manufactured by Ansonia.
This particular clock, featured in the 1905 Ansonia catalog under the name “Prism,” was priced at $29.00, a substantial sum for its time. It was the simplest design in the crystal regulator line and the lowest-priced model.
Collectors in the clock world frequently have discussions regarding the proper name for these clocks. Are they four-glass clocks or crystal regulators?
Ansonia Crystal Regulatorshowing the Brocot escapementwith jeweled pallets
A “four-glass clock” is a broader term referring to clocks with glass panels on all four sides, while a “crystal regulator” is a more specific subtype of mantel clock known for its transparent glass panels and often associated with high-quality craftsmanship. The primary differences lie in the design, purpose, and origin. The term “crystal regulator” is used specifically for American clocks that fall under the broader category of four-glass clocks, distinguished by transparent panels on all sides. Conversely, a French-made clock with a similar appearance is generally referred to simply as a four-glass clock.
The pendulum vials contain nickel slugs
While both types typically feature Brocot escapements, there’s a notable distinction in the pendulum design. Many four-glass French clocks incorporated mercury-filled pendulum vials, whereas American crystal regulators utilized nickel slugs within transparent vials.
American Crystal Regulators were essentially replicas of French regulators, boasting similar design elements such as a stylistic gong block, visible Brocot escapements, round movement plates, and beveled glass panels. However, they were an economical alternative to the French clock.
French regulators, crafted by high-profile makers like Japy, Marti, Vincenti, and Mougin, were highly esteemed and often included mercury pendulums. In the American market, Ansonia and Seth Thomas were prominent manufacturers of such clocks. They were not built to the higher standards of a French clock and were priced accordingly. Nonetheless, American Crystal Regulators have become sought-after by clock collectors.
American-made 4-glass clocks are commonly referred to as crystal regulators
The four glass panels of this clock are in very good shape, with only a small corner chip on one panel, which I discovered a few days after purchasing the clock. Fortunately, the chip is not visible from the front. The glass was likely damaged during a servicing session.
Overall, the clock is in good condition for its age and was made somewhere between 1905 and 1910. The brass, though tarnished, cleaned up nicely with the use of a cleaner. The brass was also lacquered to maintain its shine and protect it from deterioration.
On the bench and before disassembly
Upon acquiring the clock, it was not in running order, and my initial evaluation suggested that all it might require was a thorough cleaning and some bushing work. There was certainly a small amount of wear and the movement required 5 bushings, all on the front plate.
After disassembling, cleaning, and addressing wear, it ran without issue. Now, it’s one of several clocks that run weekly.
I would have to say it is one of the more unique clocks in my collection.
Here are three commonly cited reasons for eliminating the cursed Daylight Savings Time convention:
One of the main arguments against daylight saving time is its impact on human health. The abrupt shift in the clock can disrupt people’s sleep patterns, leading to sleep deprivation and increased stress. Studies have shown a rise in heart attacks, strokes, and even car accidents in the days following the time change. By eliminating DST, people would maintain a more consistent sleep schedule, promoting better overall health and well-being.
A made-in-Canada Pequegnat clock from the 1920s
Critics argue that the practice of changing clocks twice a year imposes economic costs on businesses and individuals. The process of adjusting various devices, systems, and schedules can be time-consuming and costly. Moreover, the disrupted sleep patterns of employees can lead to decreased productivity in the workplace. By eliminating DST, businesses would avoid these costs and potentially see a boost in productivity due to a more rested workforce.
Canadain made ogee style clock
One of the original reasons for implementing daylight saving time was to conserve energy by making better use of natural daylight during the longer days of summer. However, with advancements in technology and changes in energy consumption patterns, the energy-saving argument is now considered outdated. Modern studies have shown that the energy savings from DST are marginal, if any, and in some cases, it might even lead to increased energy usage due to higher air conditioning demands on hot evenings. Therefore, proponents of eliminating DST argue that the energy conservation rationale no longer holds, making it unnecessary to continue the practice.
30-hour shelf clock from the USA
These arguments, among others, have fueled ongoing debates about the relevance and effectiveness of daylight saving time, leading to discussions and policy changes in various regions.
But not in Nova Scotia, Canada. Prepare to set your clocks backward on November 5th at 2:am.
Tick-Talk Tuesday is dedicated to addressing readers’ letters and comments related to clock issues, challenges, and recommendations for specific clocks. In cases where the comments and questions are particularly challenging, I seek advice from my fellow clock enthusiasts to provide the most accurate and helpful response.
SS writes
Hi Ron. My name is SS
I’m writing from Quebec, Canada
My mother in law gave me this clock before she passed. A while ago.
I’ve been doing some research to see who would appreciate this clock and what is the value.
I’ve been looking on sites but I don’t see this original shape. I was wondering if it would be possible to give me an idea of the value and who to sell it too.
Thanks SS
Arthur Pequegnat fan-topRear of clock showing partial label
My Reply:
Thanks for your email, SS. I am just back from vacation and catching up on email queries, so, I apologize for the delay.
What you have is a clock made by the Pequegnat Clock Company of Kitchener Ontario. It is a clock that is part of their Maple Leaf series of kitchen clocks. Here is an article I wrote earlier this year describing clocks in the Maple Leaf series.
Tick-Talk Tuesday is dedicated to addressing readers’ letters and comments related to clock issues, challenges, and recommendations for specific clocks. In cases where the comments and questions are particularly challenging, I seek advice from my fellow clock enthusiasts to provide the most accurate and helpful response.
DS writes
Morning, Ron –
I’ve wanted to let you know how much I’ve enjoyed these blog posts.
What a nice work area you have there, too.
I’ve had my eyes on a marvelous Wm. Van Tassel sleigh-front, or “Triple Decker” Seth Thomas manufactured for the Canadian market for some time. I’ve been fascinated with these old clocks for many years, and in particular the triple-deckers. I’ll attach an image or two of the Van Tassel I’m interested in. It is perhaps the finest sleigh-front I’ve ever seen, in terms of condition & originality.
I only have a modest collection of some cottage clocks of the various Connecticut makers, and several “Ogees.” My only real “Problem” is finding time enough to spend with them!
Thanks again for these interesting, well-written articles.
Take care…
Wm. Van Tassel sleigh-front
I write
Thanks for your email, DS
That is a very nice clock. Some would call it a column and cornice but as you said often referred to as a triple-decker. I like the two-door feature. I have a similar Seth Thomas. My only thought is whether or not the tablets (or at least one of them ) are original. The cornice and the base are often beat up with wear and tear and it is nice to see one so unmolested. It is a clock I would take a serious look at.
I am not a huge fan of gingerbread clocks which were very popular in America at the turn of the 20th century. Every major manufacturer made them and they sold like hotcakes. Thousands have survived and a quick perusal of online auction sites any day of the week will reveal dozens if not hundreds of them.
The Sessions Clock Company of America was a prominent clock manufacturer in the early 20th century, producing a wide range of clocks that included mantle, wall, and grandfather clocks. Founded in 1903 in Connecticut, the company quickly gained popularity for its combination of both traditional and modern styles. Although the company ceased production in the 1950s, Sessions clocks remain popular among collectors and clock enthusiasts. Sessions gingerbread clocks were particularly popular.
The gingerbread designs were created by using high-pressure rotary presses on oak wood that had been pre-steamed to soften it.
The Grand Assortment 8-day time and strike gingerbread clock from around 1915 was a big seller for Sessions and the model was found in many American homes of the day.
And so, we have my Sessions clock won at auction in early 2022. This clock has had a hard life of neglect.
This clock took many months to complete. I was not quite certain what to do with the case so I worked on the movement initially. I have serviced a fair number of Sessions movements over the years so servicing was fairly routine with the exception of one small issue mentioned below.
Rather than leave the case as-is I knew I knew that invasive intervention was the only option.
Auction photo
The case was completely stripped, not something I wanted to do but it was in such poor condition. For example, note the bottom right base section shown below.
The entire case was similar to this
After much rubbing, scrubbing, using a commercial nontoxic stripper, and the application of 2 coats of traditional shellac the results were better than expected.
The clock is complete, the slight darkness on the right is my shadow
I can usually resurrect a dial but this one had too much foxing as they say in the clock world. Foxing is the gradual process of rust oxidizing through the paper dial over a long period.
Sessions dial pan
Rather than source a new paper dial I decided to go with a dial from an Ingraham gingerbread parts clock and since the diameter, the center arbor and winding holes are standard it was an easy fit.
Anyone familiar with the Grand Assortment line would note that they were fitted with Roman Numerals rather than Arabic dials but I don’t think the buyer of a clock like this would see it as an issue.
Here is the clock from a slightly different angle.
Straight on shot
The Movement
I began with new bushings on the escape wheel rear plate and third and fourth wheels on the time side and finally the second wheel back plate for a total of 4 bushings on the time side.
The movement, as found, note the pendulum leader hanging off the crutch loop
There was negligible wear on the strike side.
As I noted in a previous article the center cannon is quite stiff and I was never able to eliminate the stiffness completely but the clock runs well.
Final thoughts
Stripping an antique clock case should always be considered a last resort. While it may be necessary to remove old, damaged, or unsightly finishes in some cases, stripping can irreversibly damage the wood and compromise the value of the clock. It’s important to exhaust all other options, such as repairing and restoring the existing finish before resorting to stripping.
If stripping is the only viable option, it’s crucial to approach the process carefully and with the utmost care to avoid further damage to the clock case.
And so there you have it. A case that was completely stripped, a new top coat, a newish dial added, and a movement that required minor servicing and now the clock is ready to be sold at some point in the spring after a few weeks of testing.
I received an email from a blog fan this week who posed an interesting question. She was concerned that a number of clocks offered for sale at a local antique store had radium dials. I assured her that I know of no maker of mantel, shelf, or long case clocks that used radium on their dials but had there been alarm clocks, wristwatches, and even antique compasses on display her concerns would have been justified.
Westclox LaSalle non-luminous alarm clock
As a matter of fact, it reminded me of the number of times I have been in antique and junk stores and have seen clocks with luminous dials and the danger I might have faced during a brief exposure, say within a meter or so and the more serious danger of being irradiated had I purchased and serviced them.
German musical alarm clock or Joker
As a clock collector, I have a limited number of alarm clocks none of which have luminous dials. I understand the potential danger of radium and that is why I confine my collecting to alarm clocks with non-luminous dials only.
Even a clock that has lost its luminescence may still have traces of radium on its dial or particulate matter that has fallen from the clock face which makes them equally as dangerous.
Antique “alarm” clock mechanism from around 1900
Since radium has a half-life of hundreds of years even old radium dials are very hazardous. If working on a clock with a radium dial care should be taken to prevent the inhalation or ingestion of flakes or dust which may contain radioactive materials. My advice is to not work on them at all.
In the past several years radium dials have largely been replaced by phosphorescent – or occasionally tritium-based light sources. Therefore clocks produced after the 1970s had safer luminous material applied to the dials but modern alarm clocks are not nearly as attractive as antique clocks from the 1920s or so.
Clocks with luminous radium dials are certainly a danger to avoid and as far as I am concerned, not worth the risk.
It is always challenging to find time to work on projects when life is busy. I picked up some part-time work this winter, teaching at a community college so between that my clock hobby teaching has taken precedence, for now.
Since the post on extreme restoration a week or so ago, I have continued planning the work to be done and have actually managed to address two issues, the second one only partially.
For my first thoughts on this Jerome Rose Cottage 30-hour clock, see the post below. I am sure you will agree that this is a candidate for extreme measures.
The case has been cleaned of dirt and grime and I have removed some of the ragged pieces of veneer on the right side. The plan is to cover the exposed sections with new veneer but since the trim is curved I will have to work out some way to apply the veneer to the curved surface and clamp using some sort of curved block. I considered an old section of ogee molding but no, not the right shape.
The movement had been serviced in the spring of 2022 and is running perfectly.
One solid wheel on this tiny movement
Painting the door trim
In my collection of acrylic paints, I found antique gold which I believe is very close to the original trim framing the front access door.
Dark chocolate brown paint was used to cover the area between the glass and the gold trim and since it was a flat texture I applied a coat of shellac to give it a satin sheen.
The design of the small glass tablet will be a challenge to duplicate and I continue my search online for a cottage clock with the same design that I can pattern off, otherwise, I will have to improvise.
Before and after
Addressing the dial
The dial has been thoroughly cleaned but some of the dirt is embedded in the dial surface which is not an issue since I would like to retain some of the patina.
I haven’t quite found the exact paint match at this point, but I am not too concerned as building up layers is the first step in in-painting. With some experimentation I should arrive very close to what I am looking for. The real fun will be in-painting the Roman numerals and chapter ring.
In-painting the dial
Next steps
Next will be the veneer work but as mentioned clamping the veneer will be a minor challenge. I am sure I will find a way. The veneer looks like Rosewood and I have a small quantity on hand.
After the veneer work is completed the tablet will be addressed and that will unfortunately involve cutting or peeling the label on the inside, though I will preserve it as best I can.
Finally when all is done a coat or two of traditional shellac should make this clock very presentable.
This small clock has certainly been to hell and back but I do know one thing; whatever I do will be a vast improvement.
Look for more posts to come on this nice little cottage clock.
Ah, the days when clock companies put a little time and effort into their designs. The Seth Thomas company, in its heyday, produced many attractive clocks and this eight-day shelf clock is one of the finest examples of the 1870s.
Seth Thomas round top
It is a rather large round top shelf clock measuring 15 inches in height, 10 inches wide at the base, and 4 inches deep. The attractive Rosewood veneered case has a mirrored rectangular lower tablet. I have seen some with clear glass but I believe the original design called for mirrored glass.
The grain is bold and striking. A sliver of veneer between the 9 and 12 o’clock position of the bezel which was missing when I bought the clock in 2019 has been repaired.
Veneer missing – before the repair
And after the veneer repair.
After veneer repair
Unique stylized hands with “S” on the minute hand and “T” on the hour hand give the clock the look of distinction.
A characteristic feature of the clock is a very attractive lyre 8-day Plymouth time and strike spring-driven movement on a bell gong with alarm. It looks like it is literally stuffed into the case but once the wood dial mount is removed it reveals just enough operating space for this movement which was obviously designed to be placed in a large variety of clock cases.
Side view of the caseTop view
The movement is die stamped “S. Thomas, Plymouth Conn.”. It is fitted with Geneva stops (stop-works) to improve timekeeping. It is nice to see stop works on clocks since they are often missing.
The plates are held together with taper pins rather than screws. The alarm mechanism is located just below the movement and to the left with the alarm adjustment wheel on the center cannon as was common in those days. Both the alarm and the movement strike an iron bell gong. The movement is mounted on the back of the case by means of wooden blocks top and bottom.
Back panel
To remove the movement from its case the rear panel must be unscrewed.
A good label is affixed inside the case and at the top, ”Spring Brass Eight Day Clocks”, “Made and Sold by Seth Thomas, Thomaston, Connecticut”. The label is largely intact save for a small piece missing in the lower right corner and slight water staining on the bottom quarter.
Without a doubt, this is one of the most beautiful clocks in my collection.
Won at auction this spring is a Daniel Pratt Jr. reverse ogee with splat although this one is missing the splat, the decorative piece on top of the case.
According to the label it was made in or after 1843.
It was also missing the suspension spring and pendulum rod and the wire with regulating screw for the pendulum bob.
Daniel Pratt Jr reverse ogee clock
There are a few other things that are not quite right. The green banding that frames the upper and lower glass looks a little strange and likely added later and the card stock which would have replaced either a mirror or reverse painted tablet looks out of place. The picture of a young soldier holding a sabre and an American flag looks quite old.
But it actually works and works well.
It has a time and strike 30-hour woodworks movement. Wood-works movements were introduced in American at the end of the 18th century and the high point of woodworks movement production was prior to the depression of 1837. During the depression most clock production was shut down and small companies began to consolidate into larger ones.
Wood-works movement
With the invention of the 30-hour brass movement by Noble Jerome, clock making began to boom again in 1838. Inexpensive woodworks movements continued to be made but by the mid 1840s the woodworks movement production had begun to phase out.
Count wheel on left, escape wheel in the middle
This movement works
The weight cord on the right side looks like it would let go at any time but what the heck, let’s see if this thing works. The green one for the strike side looks sturdy. I will restring the clock later.
I removed the verge and determined there was no power getting to the escape wheel. I felt underneath and although the weight had been wound to the top of the case the cord was binding on the main wheel. It took a little encouragement to bring the weight further down but the adjustment did the trick. I then fashioned a new suspension rod/spring from my supplies along with a pendulum wire, gave the pendulum a gentle push and success!
About 3 hours later as the weight on the time side was descending I noticed the cable had broken at some point and a past owner had simple tied the two ends together. I believe the knot was causing the power issue.
I had already tested the strike side and it was working perfectly.
I have one other Daniel Pratt Jr. clock in much better condition but the movement will not run for more than a few minutes. This one has a splat.
So, one Pratt with a not-so-good case and a working movement and the other with a stunning case but a non-working movement. Should I do a swap?
Daniel Pratt Jr with woodworks movement
I have never disassembled a woodworks movement in my years of clock repair and I doubt that many clock repairers have much experience with one. It is one of the few movement types I have zero experience with but I may have to bite the bullet some day because this clock will not run forever.
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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