This post has nothing to do with clock collecting or repair, but why not take a moment to celebrate Canada’s 158th birthday?
On June 20, 1868, a proclamation signed by the Governor General, Lord Monck, called upon all Her Majesty’s loving subjects throughout Canada to join in celebrating the anniversary of the formation of the union of the British North American provinces into a federation under the name of Canada. This union was established on July 1, 1867, with the passing of the British North America Act. At the time, four colonies united.
The July 1st holiday was officially established by statute in 1879 under the name “Dominion Day.”
It wasn’t until 1917 that larger-scale and more extravagant celebrations began. This was during the First World War, when Canada needed an uplifting event to help ease the strain of overseas conflict.
Since 1958, the federal government has organized an annual observance of Canada’s national day. The original format included a Trooping the Colours ceremony by the Ceremonial Guard on Parliament Hill in the afternoon, a sunset ceremony in the evening, followed by a mass band concert and fireworks display.
The author (6th from the left) was a member of the Ceremonial Guard in 1969, taking part in the Changing of the Guard on Parliament Hill, Ottawa
In 1968, the format was expanded to include multicultural performances and professional concerts.
In 1981, fireworks displays were added in 15 major cities across the country.
On October 27, 1982—the year Canada’s Constitution was repatriated from Britain—”Dominion Day” was officially renamed “Canada Day.”
Other than a brief interruption during the pandemic, the ceremony on Parliament Hill has taken place every year since 1958.
In recent years, Canada—like much of the world—has faced its share of political and economic uncertainty. From global market instability to domestic debates over identity, governance, and the environment, we’ve been challenged to re-examine who we are and what we stand for.
Yet through it all, Canada has shown resilience. The ability to question, protest, and engage in open dialogue—hallmarks of a free society—has only strengthened our democratic foundations. Economic pressures have sparked innovation, encouraged local enterprise, and reminded us of the value of community and cooperation.
In navigating uncertainty, we’ve not only reaffirmed our freedoms—we’ve deepened our understanding of what it means to be Canadian. That, in itself, is worth celebrating.
We are the True North, Strong and Free.
Happy Canada Day, everyone—and best wishes to those of you who celebrate your own country’s independence day!
Over the years, I’ve explored countless stories tied to the world of horology, but few carry the prestige, legacy, and craftsmanship of A.G.U. Lenzkirch, one of the oldest and most respected German clockmaking brands. While there is much more to say about this iconic name, I’ve prepared a brief summary—based on information provided by brand owner Jens of the Jens German Company—highlighting its rich history and significance in the world of fine clockmaking.
In an era when heritage brands are being revived and newly appreciated, the A.G.U. Lenzkirch trademark is now available for purchase. For those with vision—whether launching a new line of precision clocks or watches, honoring the legacy of Black Forest clockmakers, or building a collection rooted in history—this is a rare opportunity to own a name synonymous with excellence.
Lenzkirch factory 1920s
Serious offers are welcome. While past estimates placed the brand’s value between EUR 50,000 and EUR 80,000, Jens believes a more reasonable and fair offer can be negotiated. Naturally, any transfer of ownership must be completed formally through a lawyer or notary.
If you’re interested in acquiring this historic trademark, feel free to reach out with your offer. You can contact Jens through me. Perhaps, like me, you’ll recognize the potential to breathe new life into a name that once set the standard for German clockmaking.
This is a unique opportunity—one that doesn’t come around often.
The Lenzkirch Story
Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation Lenzkirch (Public Company for Lenzkirch) was founded in 1851 in the village of Lenzkirch in Baden by Eduard Hauser, who had trained in France and Switzerland. The company carried on the tradition of Black Forest clockmakers. Hauser, the son of a teacher, was born on August 21, 1825, and gained experience building music boxes under Johann George Schopperle. During this period, he developed skills in metalworking, precision mechanics, musical instrument design, and even music composition.
A catalog selection of regulator clocks
The firm became renowned for producing exceptionally fine regulators. Well into the 1920s, Lenzkirch was still crafting precision movements with compensated pendulums. Junghans eventually acquired the company, and the factory closed in 1932, a casualty of the collapsed wall regulator market.
Company History
The Beginning of a Clock Empire
Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation in Lenzkirch was the oldest clock factory among the Black Forest manufacturers. Founded by clockmaker Eduard Hauser and Ignaz Schopperle, a mechanical organ maker, the company began in 1849 in a modest workshop producing clock parts. These were sent to clockmakers for final assembly, a shift from the traditional practice where clockmakers produced every part by hand.
Precision regulators
Hauser and Schopperle aimed to introduce “serial assembly,” delivering compact, machined, and pre-assembled clock movements to clockmakers. This innovation marked a turning point in horological manufacturing.
The Growth of the Company
Hauser soon employed 14 workers using hand-driven flywheel lathes and other tools. He invested heavily in machinery, draining much of his capital, and faced payroll and operational expenses without a robust marketing network or distribution plan. Growth was slow.
On August 31, 1851, Hauser approached Franz Joseph Faller, Joseph Wiest, Nikolaus Rogg, and the brothers Johann Nikolaus and Paul Tritscheller. Together, they officially formed Aktiengesellschaft für Uhrenfabrikation in Lenzkirch. In 1865, their brother Albert Tritscheller joined to study international clockmaking practices. With new financial support and strong management, Lenzkirch flourished. Powered by two steam engines and equipped with a gold and silver plating shop and a tool-and-die workshop, the company achieved remarkable technical excellence. Secrecy was paramount—Hauser famously covered machinery with linen sheets to protect trade secrets from visitors.
Lenzkirch patent, 1881 for a gong support bracket
Delivering Clocks Becomes a Challenge
Eventually, Lenzkirch began full in-house movement assembly, with wooden cases imported and finished at the factory. The company’s reputation soared with the introduction of its German regulator, which won numerous awards in 1860–61. The Viennese-style wall regulator also gained popularity. The firm invested in R&D to develop durable mainsprings, both for its own clocks and others.
8-day regulators
However, transporting the growing volume of finished clocks became a major obstacle. Franz Joseph Faller, fluent in several languages, launched an aggressive marketing and distribution campaign. He circulated catalogs, sent representatives to international expos, and opened offices in Florence and Venice. But operations remained based in the Black Forest.
After years of lobbying, Faller secured a railway extension to Lenzkirch, and on May 21, 1887, the first train arrived. Tragically, during the celebration, Faller suffered a fatal stroke moments after delivering the welcoming speech.
The Rise and Fall of Lenzkirch
For over 80 years, the Lenzkirch Clock Factory employed thousands who took pride in its renowned craftsmanship. At its peak, the factory had over 600 workers and contributed to making Lenzkirch a wealthy town synonymous with high-quality Black Forest clocks.
Lenzkirch was also a pioneer in employee benefits. In 1858, it began offering medical insurance and a disaster relief fund. Despite economic downturns and the Franco-Prussian War of 1870, the company maintained its commitment to quality.
Yet competition grew. New firms with modern equipment and better capital reserves began to outpace Lenzkirch. The company, still operating with mid-19th-century equipment, struggled to adapt. In 1928, the Junghans brothers proposed a merger. The factory was dissolved in August 1929 and functioned as a Junghans satellite until 1932, before being sold to a beauty salon equipment manufacturer in 1933.
Classic styling by Lenzkirch
Even today, Lenzkirch clocks remain highly collectible. Many are listed on eBay and through antique dealers and auction houses worldwide. Known for their quality and precision, Lenzkirch clocks continue to capture the attention of horology enthusiasts. The company ultimately sold over 1,000,000 clocks, with each movement stamped on the back as a testament to its legacy.
Disclaimer | My Role in the Sale
If you have further questions concerning the sale, I can pass them on to Jens.
As I mentioned, if you’re interested in acquiring this historic trademark, feel free to reach out with your offer.
However, I want to make it clear that I have no personal interest in profiting from the sale of this brand. As I’ve mentioned to Jens, my role here is simply to help him amplify this information and share it with readers of this blog. There may be someone among you, or someone you know, who would be genuinely interested in acquiring and preserving this prestigious and historic clock brand.
There are four general categories of clocks: quartz, electro-mechanical, electric, and mechanical. Mechanical clocks—whether antique or vintage—are the focus of this discussion on why a clock might run slowly.
We’ve become accustomed to the accuracy of quartz clocks, which lose or gain only milliseconds per week. Contrast that with an era when people were content to accept that their mechanical clock might be a minute fast or slow over the course of a week. It was common practice to make small adjustments throughout the run cycle of a clock.
In fact, a typical American spring-driven clock in properly serviced condition may gain or lose a couple of minutes per week as a norm. Weight-driven mechanical clocks that gain or lose only a few seconds per week are considered to be much more accurate.
That said, how many mechanical devices do you know that still run (relatively speaking) perfectly after 120 years?
A clock can run slowly for a variety of reasons.
Environmental
Pendulum too low or too high
Pendulum of incorrect weight
Suspension spring length is incorrect
Suspension spring is not attached correctly
Lack of lubrication
Gummed-up lubrication (over-oiled)
Balance wheel needs adjustment
Weak mainspring
Changes or alterations during servicing
Clock cycle time variance
Slipping or binding
Bent gear teeth or arbors
Let’s explore each one of these factors:
Clock parts
Environmental Factors
Mechanical clocks are subject to environmental conditions that may cause them to gain or lose time over the year. These include heat, cold, and humidity. Warmer temperatures can slow down a clock due to the expansion and lengthening of the pendulum, unless it has a compensating pendulum with mercury or dissimilar metal rods. Denser air can also cause the pendulum to swing more slowly.
Even a change in elevation, such as moving a clock from sea level to a higher altitude, can affect the speed of the clock.
Pendulum Too Low or Too High
The lower the pendulum, the slower the clock will run. Many pendulum clocks have an adjustment screw at the bottom or on the bob itself. If not, there is often a regulator on the clock face. You can use the small end of a double-sided key to insert into the dial and adjust the speed.
Shortening the pendulum speeds up the clock. Anything that increases the pendulum’s effective length will slow it down.
Incorrect Pendulum Weight
A pendulum that is too heavy lowers the center of gravity, which causes the clock to run slowly. Using the correct weight for your clock ensures proper and reliable operation.
Incorrect Suspension Spring Length
When someone unfamiliar with the mechanics of a clock replaces a suspension spring with one of the wrong length or thickness, the result is a clock that may run too fast or too slow. Always ensure the spring matches your clock’s specifications.
Suspension Spring Not Attached Correctlyor Kinked
The suspension spring connects the top post to the pendulum leader and allows the pendulum to swing. If it’s not installed securely, the pendulum may not swing properly or may wobble, reducing efficiency and affecting the clock’s accuracy.
A kinked or damaged suspension spring will impede the smooth action of the pendulum rod.
Lack of Lubrication
Dry pivot holes mean there is no lubricating barrier between the pivots and the bearing holes—even if the movement appears clean. Apply a small drop of clock oil to each dry pivot hole to ensure smooth running. Without oil, steel pivots will wear the brass holes, eventually causing gear misalignment and stopping the clock.
Note: Only a small drop of oil per bushing hole is needed—no more.
Gummed-Up Lubrication
When a clock runs slowly, the instinct may be to add more oil. But if there’s already old, dirty oil—often blackened or greenish—it will mix with new oil, forming an abrasive paste. Though this may offer a temporary improvement, the clock will soon begin running slowly again.
The only solution is proper servicing: disassembly, thorough cleaning, addressing wear, reassembly, and testing.
Balance Wheel Needs Adjustment
For those clocks that have a balance wheel instead of a conventional escapement arrangement.
The escapement is regulated by sliding the two small weights on the balance wheel. Slide them inward to speed up the clock, outward to slow it down. Use the adjustment “finger”—moving it to the right increases speed, to the left decreases it. One dot of adjustment usually changes the time by about 10 seconds per day.
Look for markings near the balance wheel: “S” for slow, and “F” for fast.
Weak Mainspring
Many antique clocks still have their original mainsprings. These springs were often made from high-quality steel, though they weaken over time—a condition known as becoming “set.” A set mainspring won’t run a full cycle (8 days for eight-day clocks or 30 hours for one-day clocks).
While repair shops often replace mainsprings as standard practice, most properly serviced original mainsprings still perform reliably. If replacement is necessary, use a correct-size, high-quality American or German mainspring for dependable performance. Avoid springs made in India at all costs!
Changes or Alterations During Servicing
Altering a mechanism—such as replacing a gear with one that has the wrong tooth count—can affect timekeeping. Even if parts look identical, manufacturers often made slight variations over the years. Using incorrect parts may lead to a slow or fast clock.
Clock Cycle Time Variance
American spring-driven eight-day clocks typically run a little faster at the beginning of their cycle (when the mainspring is fully wound) and slower as the power diminishes. This is considered normal and usually does not require adjustment.
Weight-driven clocks provide constant power, so any time variance from the beginning to the end of a cycle is more likely due to wear or other issues.
Slipping or Binding
If your clock is losing hours per day, something is slipping or binding inside the movement. If it’s losing minutes per day after all adjustments have been made, worn bushings or components may be the cause.
Clockmakers check for end shake—the slight lateral movement of gears between the movement plates. Without sufficient end shake, gears may bind, slowing the clock. Ensuring proper end shake is a standard part of any professional servicing.
Bent Gear Teeth or Arbours
Bent or slightly out-of-true arbors or gear teeth can cause intermittent resistance, slowing or halting the clock temporarily.
Final Thoughts
Your situation may be unique, and if your clock issue isn’t covered in this article, I recommend consulting a professional clock repairer. If you have limited experience, attempting your own repairs may lead to irreversible damage.
Working with mechanical clocks also involves risk. Mainsprings store a significant amount of energy and can cause serious injury if mishandled.
Understanding why your clock runs slowly is the first step. Addressing the problem is the next. Beyond that, periodic maintenance and the use of quality parts are key to a long and reliable life for your clock.
In the spring of 2022, I brought home a handsome gallery clock from an auction—an English-made piece with a 10-inch dial. What caught my attention initially was its clean, industrial look, but once I opened it up, I found it had just as much character on the inside.
I was hoping for afuseeclock, as many English gallery clocks are fusees, but when I saw this one offered at auction, I knew from the price that it probably wasn’t what I had hoped for—but I bought it anyway.
Empire 150 gallery clock
The Company
According to one source, Astral and Empire were originally trademarks of a company called Williamson, known for its high-quality movement, also named Astral. Through a series of mergers and acquisitions, the trademarks eventually came under the ownership of English Clock and Watch Manufacturers Ltd., which was purchased by Smiths in 1932. As a result, Smiths acquired the Astral and Empire trade names.
However, further research led me in a slightly different direction regarding the manufacturer. It appears that the company was not named Empire, but rather Grimshaw, Baxter, and J. J. Elliott.
Empire was actually a model name used by this firm.
So, the clock is from the Empire 150 series.
Grimshaw, Baxter, and J. J. Elliott was an English clockmaking company formed in 1909 when Grimshaw and Elliott merged. The firm produced a variety of clocks and watches until its dissolution in 1921. The name continued to be used until 1958, although I do not know how it was used during that period.
Interestingly, the company made fusee wall clocks as well.
Features of this Clock
The clock features a classic time-only movement—simple in design, with relatively few wheels to manage during servicing. As with many time-only setups, the minute and hour wheels are located outside the front plate. What sets this one apart is its size: it’s surprisingly large for a time-only movement and impressively robust, likely intended for use in a commercial setting.
The movement is mounted to a heavy steel plate that screws onto its front, and the whole unit fits just beneath the dial. Though the clock is unmistakably English, the layout and engineering give it a distinctly German feel—a nod, perhaps, to cross-European influences in clockmaking during that era.
Accessing the movement is refreshingly straightforward. After removing the hands and three small screws, the dial lifts away easily. Four slotted screws secure the movement to the steel mounting plate.
One particularly interesting feature is the pendulum. It’s a cylindrical style with a large, rotating adjustment screw at the bottom—a practical touch for fine-tuning. Even better, it clips into a clever two-piece caddy system (see below) that makes transporting the clock safe and simple. Push the cylindrical pendulum bob into the caddy and Voilà, it is secured in place! A nice surprise for a piece from the early 1920s.
Grimshaw, Baxter, and J. J. Elliottgallery clock called the Empire
I was also intrigued to find taper pins used to secure the plates—a feature more common in older or higher-quality movements. The mainspring barrel is modest, about the size you’d expect in a typical time-and-strike clock from England or Germany.
A well-made movement designed to last, pendulum is secured in place
The movement had clearly been over-oiled at some point, so before any cleaning could begin, I had to wipe everything down thoroughly. Then it was into the ultrasonic cleaner. While I didn’t expect the plates and wheels to come out gleaming, they cleaned up beautifully. After polishing the pivots and pegging out the pivot holes, it was time to reassemble.
Compared to the American movements I’ve been working on recently, this one has notably finer pivots. This isn’t a movement where you can force the pivots into their respective holes—each pivot needs to be carefully guided into its hole with a steady hand and a bit of patience.
All in all, this Empire gallery clock turned out to be more than just a pretty face. It’s a well-made, thoughtfully designed piece with a few charming quirks. A great example of early 20th-century English clockmaking—and a pleasure to work on.
If you spend any amount of time browsing online marketplaces for antique or vintage clocks, you’ll quickly become familiar with a common phrase: “Fully serviced and tested to ensure reliable running.”
It sounds reassuring. But what does fully serviced really mean? As it turns out, the answer can vary greatly depending on who’s doing the servicing, and just how seriously they take that term.
The Wide Spectrum of “Servicing”
To some sellers, servicing a clock means removing the movement from the case, giving it a quick inspection, oiling a few pivots, and popping it back in. This might help the clock run for a short while, but it’s a far cry from what most professionals or serious hobbyists would consider a proper service.
Cleaned and ready for the top plate
To others, a full service is a detailed, time-intensive process, one that includes disassembly, deep cleaning, inspection for wear, and repairing or replacing worn components before careful reassembly and thorough testing.
As someone who has serviced clocks for years, I fall squarely in the latter camp. And I know many experienced clockmakers who would agree with this standard.
What a Full Clock Service Should Include
Here’s what I consider a full service for a mechanical clock movement:
Complete disassembly of the movement.
Ultrasonic cleaning of all parts to remove old oil and grime. There are always exceptions. Some movements should not be cleaned in this way
Inspection and polishing of all pivots.
Replacement or installation of bushings where necessary.
Cleaning of mainsprings (or replacement, if broken or weak).
Repair or remediation of any issues found during inspection—worn teeth, bent levers, etc.
Reassembly and correct oiling using proper clock lubricants.
Bench testing of the movement outside of the case.
Reinstallation into the case, followed by additional testing and regulation.
Running the clock through a full wind cycle to ensure consistent performance.
When I describe a clock I’m selling as “fully serviced,” that’s the process I’m referring to. Just to be clear, I’m not a clock seller, but I do sell the occasional one to manage my collection.
Enclosed mainsprings after a cleaning
The Problem with Vague Listings
Unfortunately, many sellers—especially on general online marketplaces—use the term “fully serviced” very loosely. Often, no further detail is provided. Did a trained professional work on it? Was the movement actually disassembled? Were any worn components addressed? You won’t know unless the seller tells you.
Sometimes, the work might have been done by an “amateur tinkerer” with limited tools and questionable cleaning techniques. Was this one of those “Duncan Swish” specials? (Clock repairers will know what I mean.) Other times, the clock may have simply been made to run, but not properly cleaned or tested, meaning any apparent reliability may be short-lived.
A fully serviced time-only movement
Red Flags to Watch For
No servicing details provided. A vague “fully serviced” label with no breakdown of what was done should be treated with caution.
Low price with big promises. If the clock is underpriced but claimed to be fully restored, ask yourself how many hours of professional work could reasonably be covered.
Fresh oil but dirty movement. Visible oil combined with dirty plates is a telltale sign that no real cleaning has occurred.
Photos showing missing or incorrect parts: missing finials, a mismatched pendulum, missing decorative case parts, etc..
Lack of timekeeping data. A reputable seller will often state something like “keeping time to within ±2 minutes per week.”
“I’m not a clock person, so may just need adjusting the pendulum“: a vague statement that may mean the clock is not functioning for a variety of reasons.
“May need adjustment after shipping”: another watchful sign that something is amiss
“Sold as a decorative or restoration piece”: serious mechanical issues, critical parts missing, mismatched parts, possibly quartz movement replaces mechanical movement.
Has been meticulously maintained to preserve its original beauty and functionality: without an explanation
The clock has been professionally serviced and is in good working order; without an explanation
What a Good Listing Should Say
A reputable seller, or a professional restorer, will usually provide a description similar to this:
“The clock has been fully serviced, which included complete disassembly of the movement, ultrasonic cleaning of all parts, polishing of pivots, bushing replacement where needed, mainspring inspection and cleaning, and reassembly with proper oiling. It has been tested over a full wind cycle and is keeping time within ±2 minutes per 7 days.”
Even better if the seller adds specifics, such as which bushings were replaced, whether the mainspring was replaced and why, or if a particular part was repaired or fabricated.
Advice for Buyers
Ask for specifics. If a listing says the clock is fully serviced, don’t hesitate to message the seller and ask for details about what that means.
Request more photos. A clean movement is often a good sign. If photos enable you to see inside the case, look for signs of dust, excess oil, or grime.
Get a feel for the seller. Are they a clock enthusiast? A professional repairer? Or simply a reseller with little horological knowledge?
Consider professional inspection. If you’re buying a high-value clock, consider budgeting for a post-purchase inspection by a reputable local repairer.
In Summary
“Fully serviced” can mean very different things depending on who’s doing the talking. For casual sellers, it might be little more than an oil-and-go job. For professionals and serious hobbyists, it’s a meticulous process grounded in best practices and respect for the movement’s longevity.
If you’re shopping for a vintage or antique clock, don’t be shy about asking what work has actually been done. Clocks are mechanical devices that do wear over time, and like any machine, they need proper care to keep ticking for years to come.
The difference between a clock that runs reliably and one that stops after two weeks may be just a matter of how honest the seller was about what “fully serviced” really meant.
Perhaps you already have a good sense of what you consider “antique” versus “vintage.” But after years of poking around the internet looking for interesting old clocks, I keep seeing confusion over these terms. So, maybe it’s not as clear-cut as we think.
Let’s start with the word “antique.” According to the United States Government (and no, I’m not sure why they felt the need to define it either), an antique is anything over 100 years old. Webster’s Dictionary backs this up, defining an antique as a work of art, piece of furniture, or decorative object from an earlier period, usually over a century old. Even Wikipedia throws its weight behind that definition. So, we can put a pin in that one: antique = 100+ years old.
Mauthe time and strike wall clock circa 1895
Now, “vintage” — that’s where things get messy. According to eBay (and you’d think they’d know), vintage refers to items made between 1930 and 1969. But let’s be realistic: on eBay, “vintage” often means anything older than yesterday, dirty, worn, or vaguely old-looking — especially if the seller isn’t quite sure what it is. The word has been stretched and bent so far out of shape, it’s basically the new “rare.”
And then there’s “collectible,” a word the marketing world loves a little too much. Slap it on a box of cereal or a mass-produced novelty clock and suddenly it’s collectible! Or so they hope. Like “vintage,” the term is often used to create urgency, even when the item in question is neither rare nor particularly special.
In the world of clocks, though, collectors tend to agree on one rule of thumb: if it’s over 50 but under 100 years old, we say it is vintage. That said, there’s no universal consensus. In some circles — jewelry, for example — anything older than 20 years is called vintage. Some even split hairs further with terms like “near vintage” and “true vintage.” What does that mean? If a clock is 48 years old, is it near vintage? And at 50, does it cross the magical threshold into “true vintage”? Apparently, some people think anything made before they were born is vintage.
Personally, I find the 50-to-100-year range for “vintage” a reasonable definition.
But, as with all things, there are exceptions.
Take the 1970 Junghans Astor-Quartz wristwatch. Junghans (still in business today), a company with over 150 years of history, introduced this quartz marvel in 1970. Today, collectors drool over it. Is it vintage? Technically yes — even if it’s quartz. So while many collectors would scoff at calling anything battery-powered “vintage,” the Junghans is a reminder that there are always exceptions worth making.
For me, the mark of a true antique or vintage clock lies not just in its age, but in its craftsmanship. Examine the detail, the precision, the pride of work that went into clocks made decades or even centuries ago. I am thinking of the ornate clocks of the Black Forest Region in the 19th century, and French-made ornamental clocks of the 18th century. That kind of workmanship is rare today. Mass production, like common clocks of the 1930s and 1940s, can’t quite capture the same spirit.
Canadian time clock, antique or vintage?
For example, I have an Arthur Pequegnat Canadian Time clock. It’s certainly old — but how old? The company produced this model from 1916 to 1941 without changing the design or movement, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint its exact production year. Is it antique? Vintage? Somewhere in between?
Old Is Not Gold
In the clock business, “old is not gold” is a cautionary phrase used by experienced collectors and repairers to remind others that age alone doesn’t make a clock valuable, desirable, or worth restoring.
Why? Many old clocks were mass-produced, especially in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Companies like Ingraham, Sessions, and Ansonia manufactured millions of clocks to meet demand. Just because a clock is over 100 years old doesn’t mean it’s rare or of high quality. Many people are surprised to learn that a clock passed down through their family may be worth very little.
An old clock in poor condition — worn-out movement, missing parts, heavily modified, or water-damaged case — may have little to no value, even if it’s technically an antique. Restoring it would cost more than it’s worth.
Collectors are selective. Certain styles, makers, or features (e.g., unusual complications, artistic dials, elaborate carvings) increase demand and value. A plain, utilitarian 100-year-old wall clock? Not so much.
Some clocks were made using leftover parts, kits, or have been assembled or altered over time. Others are reproductions made to look old. Being fooled by age can lead to disappointment, especially when paying more than it’s worth. For example, when North Americans had an insatiable appetite for antiques, many Vienna Regulators that were sent after the Second War were parted out and reassembled into “Frankenclocks”, a movement from one clock, a case from another, a pendulum from a third.
Frankenstein, Gustav Becker, Vienna Regulator
Final Thoughts
Better still, enjoying your clock is what really counts.
You don’t have to spend a fortune to own a meaningful piece of horological history. Ogee (OG) clocks, for instance, are true antiques — many 150+ years old — and still reasonably priced because of their large production numbers.
Antique banjo clocks are also within reach for many collectors, unless you’re chasing a rare Simon Willard original, in which case your wallet may start to sweat. And even if you snag a “Simon Willard original”, how can you guarantee that it is, indeed, original?
Weight-driven banjo clock from the Boston area, circa 1840
The takeaway? Whether antique, vintage, or collectible, it pays to do your homework. Researching a clock’s origin, model, and movement details can save you from disappointment — and occasionally lead to a delightful surprise.
At the end of the day, labels matter less than love. If you enjoy the look, sound, and story of your clock — whether it’s vintage, antique, or collectible — then it’s exactly the right clock for you.
As a clock enthusiast, collector, or someone simply looking to purchase a dependable antique or vintage clock, it’s natural to consider all your options. Chinese-made mechanical clocks are often attractively priced and readily available through online marketplaces like Facebook Marketplace and eBay, but before clicking “Buy Now,” it’s worth understanding why many horologists and repair professionals caution against these clocks—and why you may want to steer clear of them.
Inferior Craftsmanship and Materials
The most common criticism of Chinese-made mechanical clocks lies in their construction. Many are made using low-grade materials—cheap metals for gears, soft brass for plates, and low-tolerance machining. This results in movements that may run erratically, wear quickly, or fail outright after only a short period.
Chinese companies were producing them by the thousands.
Some of the most frequent problems reported include:
Misaligned pivots and poorly cut gears
Escapements are prone to failure
Strong mainsprings (31-day clocks) that are dangerous to work on
Inaccurate timekeeping, even after careful regulation
Unreliable striking or chiming mechanisms
These issues aren’t just frustrating—they often make the clock uneconomical to repair, since the labor involved exceeds the clock’s value.
A typical Chinese-made movement
Lack of Longevity and Serviceability
High-quality mechanical clocks from North America, Europe, or Japan can run for decades with proper care. By contrast, many Chinese-made mechanical clocks barely survive beyond a few years. The movements are often designed without repair in mind. In some cases, they’re riveted instead of screwed together, making disassembly and servicing impossible or impractical.
If you’re knowledgeable about clock repair, these clocks can be serviced; however, if the parts are excessively worn, replacement parts are virtually impossible to find.
You won’t find service manuals or replacement parts for most Chinese-made movements, and the quality is often so inconsistent that even parts from the same model can’t be interchanged reliably.
Few professional clock repairers will touch these clocks. Those who do will often try to convince you to replace the movement with a quartz one, and to be honest, that’s not a bad option, particularly if the case is in good condition.
Daniel Dakota wall clock
Knock-Off Designs and Deceptive Marketing
Many Chinese mechanical clocks mimic the outward appearance of high-end brands or antique designs. You’ll find skeleton clocks that resemble Hermle or Kieninger movements, regulator wall clocks styled like Vienna regulators, or “box” clocks with none of the refinement of the originals.
Some listings may even use phrases like “German-style movement” or “vintage design” to evoke a sense of quality or authenticity. Don’t be fooled—these are marketing tactics that mask low-grade manufacturing.
They Undermine the Clockmaking Tradition
Purchasing cheaply made mechanical clocks can inadvertently support an industry that values mass production over tradition, quality, and craftsmanship. When you buy from reputable makers or antique sources, you’re helping preserve centuries of horological heritage.
Brands and Labels to Approach with Caution
Western-sounding brand names were created specifically for export to make the products more appealing to North American consumers. While not every clock with a Chinese movement is inherently bad, the following brands and sellers are widely reported in horological forums and repair circles as problematic:
Citizen
Any clock that has “31 day” inscribed on the clock face
Any clock with directional winding arrows
Bulova
Daniel Dakota, the most well-known export brand, sold at big-box stores
Style House
Emperor Clock Company
Kingston
Andover
Tempus Fugit, not an actual brand, but commonly printed on dials of Chinese clocks
Regulator, like “Tempus Fugit,” many wall clocks were simply labeled “Regulator” with no brand
Alaron
Mirado
Elgin, pendulum wall clocks with faux weights or decorative fronts
Westclox / Ingraham (rebranded)
There are many other brands, of course. Many of these are rebranded or unbranded mechanical clocks that look appealing in photos but have disappointing performance.
What to Buy Instead
If you’re seeking a mechanical clock that’s beautiful, functional, and serviceable, consider these alternatives:
Antique or vintage clocks: Seth Thomas, Ansonia, Sessions, Gilbert, Waterbury, Arthur Pequegnat, Gustav Becker, HAC, Mauthe, Junghans, or Kienzle
Modern German makers: Hermle, Kieninger (now part of Howard Miller), Schneider
Japanese movements: Seiko, Rhythm (mostly quartz, but quality nonetheless)
North American producers: Howard Miller (uses German Kieninger movements), older Ridgeway clocks used Hermle and Urgos), Chelsea Clock (USA)
These makers have established reputations, better quality control, and are backed by communities of repair professionals and collectors.
Final Thoughts
The allure of a budget-friendly mechanical clock is understandable. But as with many things, you get what you pay for. A $40 box clock with a Chinese movement may seem like a deal, but when it fails in six months and can’t be fixed, the true cost becomes clear.
I must admit that in my early days of clock collecting and repair, when I was still on the learning curve, I dabbled in these inexpensive clocks, knowing that if the movement wasn’t repairable, I could simply throw it away without feeling guilty, given how little I had paid for it. I had two, one I gave away, and the other was converted to a quartz movement.
If you’re new to collecting or looking for your first mechanical clock, invest in something that has stood the test of time or comes from a manufacturer with a reputation for quality.
Mauthe mantel clocks are widely available in various shapes and sizes, often appearing on online marketplaces, at garage sales, flea markets, and in antique shops. However, not all are well-preserved—many show signs of age and neglect. This particular round-top mantel clock stands out for its excellent condition, especially considering its age.
A well-preserved “buffet” clock
While commonly referred to as a mantel or shelf clock, Mauthe marketing literature described this style as a “buffet clock.” In the mid-20th century, clocks of this design were often intended to sit on buffets, sideboards, or credenzas in dining rooms. This placement allowed the clock to serve both a decorative and a practical purpose, complementing the room’s furnishings. The term “buffet clock” reflects its association with this specific setting, distinguishing it from mantel or shelf clocks, which were typically placed in living areas or on fireplaces.
This three-train Westminster chime pendulum clock features a five-rod gong block and plays a musical tone every quarter hour. I discovered it at an antique shop in Great Village, Nova Scotia (Canada) in 2015. The movement is unmarked, lacking a trademark, but bears the number 50089 on the bottom right of the rear plate. There is no doubt that the movement is original to the case.
Mauhe 3-train movement
This clock runs on a complete eight-day cycle and produces a very pleasant sound. The case features a simple yet attractive design, is in excellent condition, and the movement is clean, having been serviced in 2015.
Mauthe – The Company
Mauthe clocks were produced in Germany by a company with a long and distinguished history, manufacturing thousands of wall, mantel, office, and hall clocks. Founded in 1844 by Friedrich Mauthe and his wife Marie in Schwenningen, Germany, the company initially focused on producing watch parts. By the late 1860s, Mauthe began making its own wall clocks and movements—some produced through the Gewerblern method (a form of cottage industry), while others were made through a more industrial, factory-based approach.
In 1876, the Mauthe sons, Christian and James, took over the business. A decade later, in 1886, the company began manufacturing its own spring mechanisms.
By around 1900, Mauthe offered a wide range of clocks, including alarm clocks, pendulum wall clocks, grandfather clocks, office clocks, and “Buffet Uhren” (buffet clocks). At the time, the company employed around 1,100 people. The third generation of the Mauthe family took control in 1904, with Eugene Schreiber (Christian Mauthe’s son), Dr. Fritz Mauthe, and Alfred Mauthe (sons of Jacob Mauthe) joining the leadership.
In it’s day, it would have displayed in this manner
In 1925, Mauthe introduced a new trademark featuring an eagle with outstretched wings clutching a three-part round plate marked with the letters F, M, and S. By 1930, the company was producing approximately 45,000 clocks per week and employed more than 2,000 people. Around 60% of their production was for export, with England being their primary market.
In the mid-1930s, Mauthe began manufacturing wristwatches, some of which were supplied to the German Army (Wehrmacht). After a brief pause during the war years, Mauthe resumed production in 1946, focusing on wristwatches. The company continued operations through the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, but ultimately declared bankruptcy and closed in 1976.
Why I Sold It
While it’s a lovely clock with a beautiful chime, I ultimately decided to focus on other types, particularly those made in Canada or with a Canadian connection. I also have a soft spot for wall clocks, which now form the core of my collection. I have no regrets; this one went to a good home.
Using Someone’s Photo Is Copyright Infringement
Not long after I sold the clock, I came across another one listed on a local online for-sale site. When I looked closely at the photo in the listing, I realized the seller had used my photograph (the first photo in this article) to advertise his clock—an infringement of copyright. I wrote to him and asked that he take the photo down. He refused, saying, “I found it on the Internet,” implying that anything online is free to use. I explained that I own the photo and my permission is required to use it, and told him that if he didn’t remove it, I would file a complaint with the site administrator. He eventually took it down, but the incident left me wondering how copyright can truly be protected when so many people assume that anything found online is fair game.
And Finally
This Mauthe buffet clock is a fine example of the company’s craftsmanship, combining reliable timekeeping with a pleasing chime. Its well-preserved condition and recent servicing make it a standout piece for its present owner.
Back in 2017, I took on the restoration of a Junghans Crispi wall clock—a project that began with enthusiasm but has since tested my patience more than once. While the case restoration went smoothly, the movement has been another story. Despite professional servicing, bushing work, and later my own repair attempts, the strike side has never been entirely reliable.
Junghans Crispi wall clock, circa 1899
Over the years, the clock ran well for a while, then faltered, especially in the strike train. A broken lever spring, a bent arbor, erratic striking, and a few close calls with delicate repairs have all played a part. In late 2024, the clock began stalling just before the warning phase, prompting me to extract the movement from its case to determine the cause of the stoppage.
Now, in Spring 2025, I’ve returned to the movement with a fresh perspective. The time side still runs fine, but the strike side remains unreliable. Based on my experience with similar movements, I suspect a combination of issues: a weak strike mainspring, one or more bent pivots, and poor alignment between the paddle and star wheel.
Junghans movement with the rear plate removed
In this post, I’ll walk through the next phase of troubleshooting—cleaning the movement, inspecting the spring, inspecting pivots, and adjusting the star wheel—to see if this clock, stubborn as it is, can finally be brought into reliable service.
Junghans movement showing hammer and suspension components
The first part of this two-part series can be found here.
Minor issues, But Nothing Too Troubling
After having disassembled the movement, cleaning it thoroughly, and inspecting for pivot and bushing wear as well as the possibility of a broken lever spring and a bent pivot, I am now satisfied that there is nothing mechanically wrong with the movement.
I assembled it and ran the time side for several days. The time train ran smoothly. I then wound the strike side and discovered two issues. One, the stop wheel was not in the correct position. For warning to take place, it should rotate about half a turn, which will set up the strike. The locking pin should be in the 10 to 12 o’clock position. The photo below shows it in the 2 o’clock position.
The locking pin is at the 2 o’clock position when it should be between the 10 and 12 o’clock positions
To make this adjustment, there is no need to take the movement apart; simply loosen the movement nut nearest the fan as well as slightly loosen the nut on the time side. Of course, if in the process of testing the strike side, it is important to double-check that both mainsprings are let down before opening up the plate. Once the fly and the locking wheel are free, they can be positioned correctly. The locking point is also determined by the cam, and the lever must be in its slot while the adjustments are taking place.
The Strike Hammer Tail
The other issue is the strike hammer tail.
Once reassembled, I also discovered that the hammer tail was resting on one of the star points. At rest, the strike paddle must sit between two star points. When the hammer tail rests on a star point, it impedes the action of the strike train. The hammer tail must be clear of the lifting star at the end of each strike sequence.
Hammer tail is resting on one of the stars of the star wheel, the lever spring on the hammer arbour is shown
I believe I have found the problem with the strike side. However, there are two more adjustments that are needed before I put the movement on a test stand. One, the hammer lever spring is not providing any tension. I know that if I risk bending it, it will snap, but I will take that chance. I have repaired lever springs in the past, and it should be an easy fix if I break it. The other issue is a loose click on the strike side, which will require completely disassembling the movement to access the rivet from the inside. Once these two items are attended to, I can test the movement.
It’s still a work in progress, but I feel I’m very close to achieving a successful resolution to issues regarding the movement.
In an era when Canadian furniture manufacturers were struggling to compete with international imports, one company stood out not just for its elegant craftsmanship but for the remarkable story behind its founder.
Craftline Industries, established in Toronto during the mid-20th century, was the brainchild of Manny Drukier, a Holocaust survivor whose vision, ingenuity, and resilience transformed a fledgling furniture operation into one of Canada’s premier producers of home furnishings and decorative clocks. With little formal education but a boundless entrepreneurial spirit, Drukier built more than a business—he created a legacy that continues to tick away in homes across North America.
Manny Drukier, as a young man, after WWII
In preparation for an article on Craftline Industries and its founder, Manny Drukier, I contacted the Drukier family with a series of questions. My main point of contact for this article was Cindy Drukier, Manny’s daughter. The Drukier family responded with remarkable generosity, providing a wealth of information, far exceeding what I had initially sought. I have included the entire text of their reply to me and have their permission to make minor edits for flow and clarity.
A snapshot of production, entitled Production Operations 1974, offers readers a clear sense of the scale and ambition behind Manny Drukier’s vision.
Manny Drukier’s Story as Told by His Family
From his daughter, Cindy Drukier, “The answers to the questions you asked may be more than you bargained for. Apologies for the excessive detail in some places, but the family decided that since such scant online evidence of Craftline exists, this was an opportunity to enter it into the digital record. These days, if it doesn’t exist online, it’s almost as if it never happened. So we’re grateful for the opportunity!”
The answers were written by Manny’s daughter Cindy, with input from her mom, Freda Drukier, and three siblings, Gordon, Laurie, and Wendy. Cindy also consulted the 1974 Canadian Jeweller article (which I have summarized in a separate section) and Manny’s unpublished writings. Manny has a published memoir, “Carved in Stone: Holocaust Years – A Boy’s Tale,” but it stops when he arrives in Canada. He wrote a Part 2, but it wasn’t published before he passed. Manny died in January 2022 of Alzheimer’s at 93.
The Vision
In 1948, Manny arrived in Toronto, a 19-year-old Holocaust survivor from Poland. He’d already spent a year in New York, but his mother and sister had made it to Toronto post-war, so he moved to Canada to join them.
Suddenly, Manny had to find a way to support the family. While buying furniture for their tiny flat with savings from New York, it dawned on him that the city was full of fresh immigrants needing to do the same—furniture would be a booming business, he figured. He had zero experience but managed to finagle (i.e., lie that he had experience) a sales position in a furniture store and quickly excelled at it, earning $30 for a six-day week, plus 2 percent commission.
He lasted less than a year working for someone else. By then he decided he had learned all he could and would go into business for himself.
He rented his first small store with his brother-in-law, David Rosenfeld, on Bloor St. West near Dufferin in downtown Toronto and called it North American Furniture. It went well, and soon they opened a second location on The Danforth on the east side of downtown Toronto. In 1961, they closed both to open a much larger and more upscale store in a former supermarket at Bathurst and Eglinton.
By 1964, he noticed he was importing more and more goods from the United States because Canadian furniture, although well-made, wasn’t elegant enough for modern consumer demand. He saw an opening in the market. He also disliked being the middleman—selling the wares of others—so he decided to go into manufacturing.
He didn’t have a clue how to do it, but he thrived on challenge and had infinite faith in his ability to figure things out. He sold North American Furniture to his brother-in-law and cobbled together a couple of partners for his new venture. Leonard Caplan was manufacturing case goods in Georgia, and Henry Gancman was a Canadian maker of chrome kitchen sets, which Manny sold in his store.
Manny, circled in red
They opened a small factory in the north end of Toronto, on Lepage Ct., employing about 15 people. One was my mother, Freda, who set up the bookkeeping and ran the one-woman office.
A couple of years later they moved to a bigger location, that included a showroom, on Milvan Dr. A few years after that they bought some land (including some from the power company, Ontario Hydro), to eventually build a 215,000 sq foot factory, showroom, and offices on 13 acres located at 15 Fenmar Drive in Weston, and industrial area at the northwest end of Toronto.
Craftline catalog
Craftline manufactured all-wood occasional furniture such as coffee tables, end tables, curios, and consoles, and, later on, wall units and grandfather and grandmother clocks. It eventually became Canada’s top manufacturer of elegant furniture, employing about 250 people.
Craftline catalogue
Cindy added, “Manny was the main designer for all the furniture, including the clocks. He had no experience in this, of course, and couldn’t really draw on any either, but he always had lots of ideas!”
ProductionOperations 1974
The information in this section is sourced from the March 1974 issue of Canadian Jeweller magazine.
Demand for Craftline grandfather clocks was high in 1974—so high, in fact, that the company couldn’t keep up with orders. In 1973, Craftline produced 2,500 grandfather clocks and expected to double production by the end of the year, 1974. At the time, owner Manny Drukier estimated the U.S. retail market for clocks, priced between $200 and $4,000, to be worth $200 million.
Manny is in the special clock boutique area of the factory
Craftline began making grandfather clocks in 1968, and by 1974, 20% of the company’s total output was devoted to them. The tall clock cases were made from solid lumber and veneered with fruitwood, elm, and ash, in styles such as Spanish, Mediterranean, Colonial, and Country French.
They produced both eight-day mechanical clocks and transistorized, battery-operated, pulsation-type clocks. The higher-priced models used mechanical movements, while the less expensive versions, made by subsidiary Craftique, used battery-powered movements. Craftique, by 1974, had manufactured 14,000 units.
The production floor
In 1974, clock faces, hands, and weights were imported, although Craftline was exploring Canadian sources. The mechanical movements were imported from two suppliers in Schwenningen, Germany. One supplier would have impacted production, while relying on two suppliers was a safer approach.
While the suppliers were not named in the article, at least six companies were manufacturing movements in Schwenningen at the time: Kienzle, Mauthe, Hermle, Schatz, Urgos, and Haller. (Author’s note: Urgos and Hermle would have been the suppliers)
Eaton department stores began selling Craftline clocks in 1972, but could not get enough stock to meet demand. However, most clocks were sold through furniture stores, where salespeople were well-equipped to market them. Jewellery stores typically bought in smaller volumes, as limited floor space made it harder to display the larger clocks.
Checking on Canadian sources for parts
The Craftline plant could finish 700 clock cases in two days, but the four-person team responsible for installing movements could only assemble 36 completed clocks per day. Much of the training for clock assembly was done in-house, with employees learning from one another.
Back to the story.
Launching the Clock Line
Manny constantly had an antenna up, looking for profitable ways to expand Craftline’s offerings, and, in 1968, he got the idea for grandfather clocks. We’re not sure where the idea came from.
Craftline catalog
Manufacturing the wood cabinets was easy, but not so the clockworks. He had two suppliers in the German Black Forest, but we don’t know more than that. I do know that, being a Holocaust survivor, he initially had misgivings about buying the works from Germany, but they were excellent and reliable, so he went with it. He said he also considered sourcing them from Asia, but decided it was too risky. He had expressed hope of buying them from a Canadian source in the future, but that never happened.
The clock cases were made of hardwood like elm, ash, and fruitwood. There were many designs, including traditional, Spanish, Mediterranean, colonial, and country French. They either had an eight-day wind-up chain mechanism or battery-operated pulsation movements. The highest-end grandfather clock was an oriental design with black lacquer and gold. The wholesale price for that clock was about $1,000 (CAD) in the early 1970s. It was the only model with an imported case—from Portugal, as it turns out.
He also started a spinoff company called Craftique Originals that produced ornamental objects from molded urethane. Craftique’s products included elaborate mirror frames, framed art reproductions, wall-mounted weather stations, and a line of wall clocks that looked like miniature grandfather clocks—except their brass weights were purely decorative and they didn’t chime.
Clock Sales and Ice Cream
Craftline had a team of salesmen who covered Canada coast to coast, and a bit of the eastern United States. All clocks were branded as either Craftline or Craftique, and they were sold to department stores and independent retailers, not to individual customers. He did, however, offer a premium service: customers could order a personalized engraved brass plate for their clock. Cindy Drukier spent one summer filing invoices and using an engraving machine to etch out those plates.
And there was one time when Manny traded a grandfather clock for its value in ice cream from the first Canadian importer of Häagen-Dazs. “Best business deal ever for a household with four kids!”
The Difficult Process of Ending Operations
Craftline lasted until 1991, when two hammers fell at once: The Canada-US Free Trade deal (precursor to NAFTA), and the introduction of the GST (Goods and Services Tax). Both hit manufacturers hard. Everyone knew Canada’s furniture industry wouldn’t make it, and despite a valiant effort to keep things afloat, the bank stepped in and forced Craftline into bankruptcy.
Craftline catalogue
By then, Manny was the sole owner. He and Henry had bought out Leonard in about 1975, and Henry got out in the final few years.
It was very upsetting, says my mom, after putting so much of your life, money, time, energy, and creativity into something, and then to have the rug pulled out from under you through no fault of your own.
She worked by his side the entire time. Manny was more philosophical and practical about it. He really didn’t dwell on things. It happened, so it happened. Meanwhile, he had other business ventures and interests. He also took the opportunity to go to Poland, with Freda, for the first time since the war and write his memoir (Carved in Stone: Holocaust Years – A Boy’s Tale).
Grandfather clockowned by the author’s daughter
Personal Challenges
We had one very fine oriental-style grandfather clock for about 40 years until it was consumed by flames in a house fire in 2011. So we all grew up with that wonderful ambient chime every 15 minutes. We’re elated to hear that many Craftline clocks are still working well!
What he enjoyed most about business was always the challenge. Clocks were just the next challenge, having mastered furniture. Lack of experience was never a barrier. He was not motivated by money—he was motivated by trying to make a longshot succeed. Nothing daunted him. Certainly, that attitude came from surviving the Holocaust. Money was fleeting—in a single day, it could be made worthless. And since he’d already been through the worst, no setback was terribly troubling. He also got bored quickly with the routine.
TheLegacy of Manny Drukier
It’s extremely heartwarming to hear that you (author) care to research and record the history of Craftline. He’d be gratified to know it! Occasionally, we hear about this or that Craftline clock still standing in someone’s home, and it’s always satisfying to know its chimes are resonating in someone’s life.
Grandmother clock owned by the author’s sister
Manny had many business ventures over the years, not just Craftline, although Craftline was the constant, and the one that made money. But he also dabbled in real estate, although he found it generally uninteresting (unless he had colourful tenants).
He published two short-lived magazines—a cooking magazine, “à la carte [sic]”, and a literary magazine, “The Idler”. He opened a pub we lived above, also calledThe Idler, and ran that for 15 years. He became an author and the star of a documentary my husband and I made about his war years called Finding Manny.
Manny was an innovator—if he had a vision, he went for it, and nothing would stop him. Because of the war, his formal education stopped at grade 4, but he was a voracious reader and a lifelong learner. He was a generous mentor and an incurable optimist. He also had a great sense of humor and left us with many useful words of wisdom.
“I’ll leave you with a few gems that seem most apt:
LIfe isn’t a cafeteria, you can’t always choose what you want.
Sometimes a kick in the pants is also a step forward.
Don’t be the schmuck who ends up walking backwards when you’re moving furniture.
I think I’ve contributed something by my staying alive. (in Finding Manny):
We agree.
The Drukier Family”
That’s the story—more than I ever expected. I encourage you to watch Finding Manny, which explores Manny’s early life, the profound loss of family members during the Second World War, and the horrors of the death camps.
Given the lack of other dedicated online sources, this stands as the most reliable and comprehensive resource currently available on Craftline Industries.
Hi there, and welcome to my little corner of the internet! My name is Ron Joiner, and for the past twenty years, I’ve been an avid hobbyist and collector in the world of antique and vintage clocks. What started as a curiosity has grown into a deep passion for the intricate movements and rich history of these remarkable clocks.
Every so often, I like to promote my blog and help newcomers understand what it’s all about and what they can expect when they visit.
As some of you who visit regularly know, I’m not in the business of selling or repairing clocks—I’m simply someone who loves learning about them, collecting them, and occasionally restoring them as a labor of love. Along the way, I’ve gained a wealth of knowledge and experience that I’m excited to share with fellow enthusiasts like you. This blog is my way of sharing what I’ve learned.
On this site, you’ll find:
Tips and tricks for identifying and caring for antique clocks.
Stories and insights about the history and craftsmanship behind these old antique or vintage clocks.
My personal experiences and lessons learned from collecting and restoring clocks over the years.
A space to connect with others who share our passion for horology.
Whether you’re a seasoned collector or just starting to explore the world of antique clocks, I hope this site inspires you, teaches you something new, and helps you appreciate these incredible pieces of history as much as I do.
Feel free to explore, leave comments, or reach out with questions. I’m always happy to chat about clocks and learn from others in the community. I’d love to hear your stories, help with any clock-related challenges, or even feature one of your clocks in a future post. Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or get in touch!
How to Navigate My Blog
Be sure to use the “Search For Past Articles” feature to uncover a wealth of insights on mechanical clocks of all types. If English is not your first language, use the Translate widget on the right side of the front page.
I publish two blog articles each week, on Tuesdays and Fridays, and send them out at 6:00 am AST.
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Thanks for stopping by—I’m thrilled to have you here and hope you’ll visit often.
I receive a number of letters each day from clock enthusiasts, first-time buyers, and people who have inherited family clocks, among others. Typically, I share these letters—while keeping the writer’s identity and location confidential. However, in this case, I’ve chosen not to publish the letter, as doing so would reveal both the sender’s identity and the name of a specific clock repair shop.
I received a letter from DV from Australia who wanted to know more about a recent clock purchase.
DV Writes
We recently picked up a Mauthe Wall clock from an auction and were hoping you could help date and value it. I have attached some photos, but because of the signature, I was thinking around 1946 in accordance with the different trademarks.
Regards,
Mauthe wall clock
My Reply
What a wonderful clock, DV. I really like the lower glass treatment. The crown is stately, if overdone; such was the style at the time. The hunting motif is interesting, though usually it is carried over to the pendulum as well. The trademark name on the movement is Mauthe, a prolific and respected clockmaker in the early 20th century. Mauthe had many trademark styles, but the one on your clock was used after 1911, so, between 1911 and 1914, I would say.
An ornate pendulum but possibly a mismatch
Clocks of this type are often missing pieces such as the finials, hands, and other case parts, though yours appears to be intact. It is a half-hour strike clock. Everything appears “nearly” correct, including the winding key. Usually, clocks like this will sell in the $300 to $500 range, but because it is original and unique, I would value it between $500 and $1000.
Clock face depicting a hunting motif
The numbers on the left of the movement are pendulum length in cms and beats per minute. On the right is an inventory number.
Two small negatives are the beat scale, which should be attached below the pendulum, at or near the bottom, and a possible mismatch of the pendulum to the clock dial. If the pendulum is a mismatch, that would certainly affect the value.
Of course, the clock movement is very dirty and needs an overhaul to run reliably in the future.
DV Writes Back
Thank you so much for the information. We just love it and it has found a wall in our house.
I definitely see that the pendulum is a mismatch, now that you point it out, as it doesn’t make any sense to have a hunting theme mixed with signs of love.
The beat scale looks to be in its original location, as I can not find a hole at the bottom of the case. I guess it could be a reused case; this is a different movement, as the movement is very hard to move on the bracket.
Regardless, we love it and are grateful for the information you have been able to provide.
Have a good day/night, as it is only 0640 am here in Western Australia.
Regards,
Author’s Note
The beat scale appears to be a later addition, likely installed by someone unfamiliar with its proper placement within the case. While it is quite possible that the clock is a marriage, beauty remains in the eye of the beholder. Despite its imperfections, it is sure to be valued by its owner.
It’s time to relax and slow down. For my wife and me, that means a welcome change of scenery as we travel to our cottage in central Canada to spend the summer season with friends and family. Our summer getaway includes relaxing with a few good books, fishing, swimming, hiking, and sharing stories with friends and neighbours over a glass (or more) of wine.
Our summer retreat
As most of you know, this blog profiles my clock collection, the challenges of maintaining and repairing clocks, the joys of finding new and interesting vintage and antique pieces, and many articles of horological interest.
Since many of my posts are written well in advance, there will be no interruption in blog posts throughout the summer months. I’ll continue to maintain a steady output of articles each month. You can keep reading new posts every Tuesday and Friday at 6:00 a.m. AST.
Enjoying lake activities
As 1960s TV variety host, lounge singer, and actor Dean Martin used to say, “Keep those cards and letters coming.” However, there may be a slight delay in returning your email inquiries or responding to blog post comments, but rest assured, your questions about clocks and comments on any of my posts are important to me and will be answered.
As my wife and I explore central Canada, we’ll no doubt stumble across interesting clocks while scouring antique stores, flea markets, Facebook Marketplace, and junk shops. New clock stories, fresh repair challenges, and perhaps the next major restoration project will be part of my journey this summer.
Walking through the woods
One of our stops will be The Canadian Clock Museumin Deep River, Ontario, where I look forward to discovering newly added clocks in their collection and catching up with curator Allan Symons.
The Canadian Clock Museum
In the meantime, feel free to use the search box to browse through past articles, and click “Follow” to have new clock articles delivered to your inbox every three to four days. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy researching and writing each and every one.
Normally, my blog articles are a quick 3 to 5-minute read and include visuals to engage the reader. Within the next two weeks or so, I will be publishing a more in-depth article on Craftline Industries, a Canadian furniture and grandfather clock maker that was very active from the 1960s through the early 1990s.
If you live in Canada and have older furniture pieces in your home, there’s a very good chance they were made by Craftline Industries. You may even have one of their grandmother or grandfather clocks.
There is scant information about the company on the internet, which isn’t too surprising. It often feels as though, for those of us who rely on online sources, the world didn’t exist prior to 1990. The upcoming story is of a Canadian visionary who not only survived the Holocaust but was a major player in Canadian furniture production 35 years ago.
The article is mostly drafted, but there is no publication date yet, as I am waiting for further information from my sources. Publication is not far off.
The article will be longer than a typical article, and there is a reason for that. I considered breaking it up into parts, but since it will be the definitive online source for information about Craftline Industries, I decided to present it in its entirety.
Finding information about Craftline Industries has been a long process that began two and a half years ago.
One year ago (in March 2024), I published a plea, asking why we know so little about a company that once sold fine grandfather and grandmother clocks which adorned living rooms across Canada. At the time, I wrote: ‘Join me in a challenge to uncover information about this company. With enough bits of information, we can piece together a profile of this fine Canadian company.’
As the upcoming article will reveal, I got what I needed—and more.”
June 2025update
The definitive source on Craftline Industries is an article I authored earlier this year.
If you’re new to clock repair or restoration, one of the first hands-on steps you’ll encounter is removing the movement from its case. This process needs to be done with care to avoid damaging delicate components.
Sessions Beveled #2mantel clock
Start by taking several clear photos of the clock from all angles—front, back, sides, and inside. These images will be your reference when it’s time to reassemble everything. Next, gently remove the pendulum by unhooking it from the suspension spring or leader. Set it aside somewhere safe.
Removing a movement through the rear access door
I highly recommend using small containers to store any clock parts, screws, or retainers removed during disassembly—there’s no greater frustration in clock repair than losing a tiny screw.
Next, remove the hands. Unscrew the hands nut or remove the brass or steel taper pin holding the minute hand in place. There may also be a brass compression spacer attached to the minute hand. Lift and remove it and the minute hand. The hour hand is friction-fit on the hour pipe; simply pull it off.
The movement is removed from the front after taking off the dial and hands
In some designs, such as those requiring the removal of the movement through a rear access door, lay the clock flat to get better access. As a precautionary measure, it is advisable to remove the glass dial in advance, since placing the clock face down while working on the movement may result in the glass cracking (yes, that has happened to me). If the dial is removed, watch for tiny screws, clips, or pins—and keep track of how it was attached.
If the springs are open and relaxed inside the case, it may be difficult to remove the movement. Wind both mainsprings tightly.
Now locate the movement’s mounting hardware. Most movements are secured with case screws—usually at least four, one at each corner. On some clocks, you must remove the strike block before the movement can be taken out. This block is typically held in place by a large screw on the bottom of the case. In German wall and floor clocks, the movement is often mounted to a seat board and secured with two thumb screws. Simply unscrew the thumb screws and slide the movement forward to remove it.
At this point, you should be able to gently slide or lift the movement out of the case. There are times when the access door is so small that the movement must be carefully maneuvered to remove it.
Once everything is removed and stored properly, you’re ready to inspect the movement for cleaning, bushings, or further repair.
If the clock is spring-driven and still wound, always let the power down using a let-down tool set. However, before doing so, wind the springs, insert a clamp, or wrap a wire around the mainspring to secure it. If the spring is housed in a barrel, letting it down allows the mainspring to relax safely within the barrel. This ensures safety during the removal process and prevents damage from a sudden release of tension.
The movement is removed from the case and is ready for inspection
And now you are ready for the next steps.
Taking it slow and staying organized will save you time (and frustration) later on.
It is uncommon for a mechanical clock to run 25, 30 years or more with nothing more done to it other than the occasional oiling. I recently received a letter from someone who had taken his clock to a repair shop, where he was quoted a high price (in my view) for the repair and told that the clock would be guaranteed for 30 years. I wonder if the repair shop would be prepared to honour that guarantee after all those years, assuming they were still in business. In any event, most reputable repair shops would not offer more than a year’s warranty.
The movement was serviced and the case refreshed for this Mauthe box clock
In this post, I will discuss what it means to service a mechanical clock and explore some of the factors that influence how long a clock’s movement will last and how to prolong its life. Those factors will help you decide the best service interval for your antique or vintage clock.
Key Things I Look For
Normally, the clocks in my collection are inspected on a 3-4 year cycle. I remove the movement from its case, check its condition, and if dry, re-oil it. If I notice a particular clock stops occasionally and I find the need to investigate, I will service it simply as a prudent measure. Clocks that stop occasionally are sending a clear message that they require your attention.
This movement had just come out of a clock case and to be serviced
While the movement is out of the case, I inspect it closely, paying particular attention to the condition of the oil around the pivot holes. If there is no oil in a pivot hole, I may simply re-oil the movement. However, if I observe green or black residue around the pivots, it indicates a more serious problem. At that point, dirt and other contaminants have mixed with the clock oil to form an abrasive paste. This paste acts like a fine grinding compound, gradually wearing away the brass in the pivot holes and scoring the steel pivots themselves. In the early stages of residue buildup, there may be little wear, and the movement, once disassembled, may not require re-bushing.
Left unchecked, friction can lead to oval-shaped holes and eventually, a clock that stops running altogether.
A Clock’s Environment
I have addressed this subject in a previous article, which you can findhere.
Common Reasons Why Clocks Stop—and How to Diagnose Them
Spring-driven time and strike clocks typically exhibit more wear on the strike side pivots due to the stop-and-start action of the hourly striking action.
Occasionally, I come across a movement where one side is much more worn than the other. I recently worked on a movement that required six bushings on the time side but none on the strike side. A previous owner was evidently bothered by the striking sound, leaving the strike side unwound. The sound of a striking clock is bothersome to some, especially in the early hours of the morning during a restless night. Getting used to a clock chiming or striking through the night can take time.
Inspecting a mainspring
Here, we’ll distinguish between striking and chiming clocks. A striking clock simply strikes—always on the hour to indicate the time, and often once on the half hour. A chiming clock, on the other hand, plays a musical sequence on each quarter hour and strikes the time on the hour. Quite often, people describe a clock as chiming when, in fact, it only strikes.
With chiming clocks, the chime train is first to respond to additional friction caused by dried oils and dirt. The additional complexity of the chime side means that more parts are subject to wear. The chime will eventually slow down and then stop altogether.
If I notice that I am not getting full power during the clock’s designed running cycle, I will investigate. For example, if a clock consistently stops at day 4 or 5 of its eight-day cycle, this tells me that the movement is either very dirty or there are very worn parts causing the clock to stop prematurely. Beyond that, another culprit is a weak mainspring. I do not routinely replace mainsprings, but it is a common practice among professional clock repair persons.
If your weight-driven clock stops before its designed cycle, check for twisted cables around the winding drum. Another issue is sympathetic vibration when the clock stops as the weights descend. As the weights descended to the level of the pendulum, a harmonic phenomenon occurred that is defined as “a formerly passive string or vibratory body responding to external vibrations to which it has a harmonic likeness”. Simply put; the power that drives the pendulum is now also being used to swing the weights; the pendulum doesn’t receive its full share of energy and eventually stops.
Sympathetic vibration has been an issue with this Scottish tall case clock
Otherwise, a weight-driven clock does not tolerate pivot wear well and will need to be taken apart to investigate for that and other possible issues.
Is the clock in beat? An out-of-beat clock will struggle to run or not run at all. Check that you can hear a steady tick-tock when winding your clock, and level the case as necessary.
I have found that different clocks have different levels of wear tolerance. It doesn’t take much wear to stop a German movement, whereas American time-and-strike clocks will tolerate pivot wear and still run reasonably well, even when very worn.
A kinked suspension spring, or one that is too stiff or the wrong size, can affect the oscillation of the pendulum.
A clock that will not run when the mainsprings are fully wound is often thought to be ‘overwound.’ The term ‘overwound’ is a myth, although it’s true that a tightly coiled spring, fused by old oil and dirt, might give the appearance of being overwound. Again, the clock must be taken apart, and while the mainsprings are being thoroughly cleaned, the entire movement must be seen to as well.
Quite often, I encounter clocks whose movements have been removed so many times that the mounting screws have become loose. This can be addressed by using slightly larger screws or by filling the screw holes before reusing the original screws. If left unaddressed, however, the movement can become unstable. A movement that is not properly secured in the case may shift, become misaligned, and put the movement out of beat.
Sometimes, an unusual problem may occur when the clock stops at the exact time every 12 hours. Check that the minute and hour hands are not interfering with each other.
Servicing a Movement – What Does It Mean?
How often should a mechanical clock be serviced? It is not as simple an answer as it seems.
If your clock does not work, cleaning it is the first step in determining the problem. Cleaning is just another word for servicing, and the term “servicing” in the realm of professional clock repair implies a complete tear-down of the movement.
Though it was a common practice in the past, dunking a movement in solvent and hoping for the best is not a substitute for proper servicing, nor is spraying the clock all over with lubricant. WD-40 is a favorite among novices, but it is not a true lubricant—it’s a water-dispersing agent.
Servicing a clock involves the following 13 steps:
There is no substitute for a complete tear-down of the movement.
Caring for a mechanical clock means more than just winding it and hoping it keeps time. Regular inspection, proper servicing, and attention to signs of wear can go a long way in keeping your clock running well for years to come. Understanding what your clock needs—and when—will help you preserve both its function and its value.
The local environment is arguably the most influential factor in determining how long a mechanical clock will run smoothly between services. While mechanical wear and oil breakdown are inevitable over time, environmental conditions can either hasten or significantly slow down the aging process of a clock movement.
Modern Homes: Controlled Yet Not Perfect
In today’s homes, humidity and temperaturecan be controlled more effectively than in the past. Central heating, air conditioning, and dehumidifiers all contribute to creating a more stable environment, and that’s good news for your mechanical clocks.
However, even in the most controlled home, there are still times of year, especially during spring and autumn, when windows are thrown open to enjoy the fresh air. During these times, indoor humidity can rise sharply, especially on damp days. This added moisture in the air may not feel significant to us, but it can affect the fine tolerances within a clock movement.
Changes in humidity cause wood and metal components to expand and contract, which can affect timekeeping accuracy. In extreme cases, wood swelling can even bind a movement slightly, throwing it out of beat.
Two clocks in a living area
That’s why a constant, moderate temperature and relative humidity — similar to conditions in a museum — are ideal for preserving both the function and appearance of your clock. Many homes today have modern central heat pumps, and maintaining these stable conditions becomes much easier. A heat pump not only helps regulate temperature but can also moderate humidity levels, especially when it provides air conditioning during warmer months.
Older Homes: More Variables at Play
In older homes, especially those with poor insulation or drafty windows, temperature and humidity control become more challenging. Kitchens, in particular, are problematic environments. Cooking generates moisture, airborne grease, and smoke particulates — all of which can settle on clock cases and creep into the movement over time. A proper exhaust system for the kitchen is a must.
Wood stoves, while charming and efficient, can be problematic, too. Even modern stoves that are tightly sealed create small air currents that draw fine dust into the air. Clocks located nearby can accumulate this dust more rapidly, and in turn, this dust finds its way into the pivot holes and between the gear teeth of a clock movement. The result? Increased friction and premature wear.
A hall clock
Worse are older homes with leaky wood stoves — cracks or gaps in the stove body, old, dried-out or damaged door seals, and chimney or venting system leaks all make the environment inhospitable for both you and your clocks.
Pets and Particulates: Hidden Hazards
One commonly overlooked environmental factor is thepresence of pets. Cat and dog hair doesn’t just settle on surfaces — it floats in the air, especially in homes with forced air heating or regular foot traffic. Over time, this suspended hair can wrap around pivots, combine with oil residue, and form a matted buildup that impairs the smooth operation of the movement.
This kind of buildup may go unnoticed at first but is a frequent cause of sluggishness or unexplained stoppages, particularly in clocks that haven’t been cleaned in several years.
The Role of the Clock Case
Fortunately, a well-sealed clock case acts as the first line of defense. How much dirt, dust, and animal hair enter a clock movement depends greatly on the design and integrity of the case. Clocks with tight-fitting doors and well-designed enclosures will resist contaminants far more effectively than those with open backs or missing access panels. Having said that, few clocks are perfectly sealed.
Our kitchen clock
For example, mantel clocks should always have a back door — not only to protect the movement but also to control airflow. If your clock’s access door is missing or ill-fitting, it’s worth replacing or repairing. Not only will this improve the clock’s longevity, but it also helps maintain more consistent timekeeping.
Clocks built into fine furniture-quality cases — especially those with beveled glass, thick wood construction, and tight joints — will typically require less maintenance over the years simply because their movements are better shielded from environmental fluctuations and pollutants.
Long-Term Implications
Environmental exposure isn’t just a short-term concern. Clocks that live in dusty, humid, or pet-filled environments will almost always need to be serviced more frequently. Pivots will wear faster, oil will degrade sooner, and bushing holes may elongate or oval out quicker than expected. On the other hand, clocks housed in clean, climate-controlled spaces with limited air pollutants can easily run 5 years or longer between major services, especially with occasional oiling and routine checks.
So, if you’re serious about preserving your clock, consider its environment carefully. Where it’s placed, what it’s exposed to daily, and how well it’s protected will determine how often it needs attention — and how long it will continue to tick reliably for generations to come.
A lot can happen to a mechanical clock over time. Even if your clock is primarily a decorative piece or a cherished family heirloom you’re hesitant to touch for fear of damaging it, it’s still wise to run it occasionally. Read on to learn why.
An Unused Clock
Surprisingly, it’s not regular operation that wears a clock down — it’s the passage of time and the surrounding environment. An idle clock may seem “preserved,” but several slow-acting processes can do more harm than the gentle motion of its gears.
The most immediate issue is oil degradation. Over time, clock oil (especially natural or mineral-based varieties) thickens, becomes sticky, or even congeals into a waxy film or becomes blackened. This thick sludge attracts dust, forming a gritty paste that can damage pivots and bushings if the clock is later restarted without servicing. Even synthetic oils, while more stable, are not immune to age-related breakdown, though many clockmakers agree they deteriorate more slowly and predictably.
A very dirty movementthat would be damaged without a cleaning
Another concern is oxidation. Brass plates survive well over time, but steel pivots and levers, especially in damp environments, are prone to corrosion. The longer a clock remains idle, the more likely moisture will begin to affect exposed parts, particularly if the movement isn’t well-sealed or has residual acidic contaminants from old oil. In coastal regions or humid climates, this process accelerates significantly.
Idle clocks are more vulnerable than you think
Idle Clocks Are More Vulnerable Than You Think
When the clock is left sitting, its tiny steel pivot ends are especially vulnerable. Over time, they can begin to pit or even lightly fuse to the inside of their bushing holes — a form of micro-seizing. This can lead to hesitation or jerky motion if the clock is later wound and restarted without proper inspection.
Leather parts such as hammer ends, wooden parts, can also dry out or warp over time. If the case is made of wood, as most are, lack of movement combined with seasonal humidity swings can lead to cracking, loose joints, or swelling that shifts the alignment of the movement inside the case. Warped cases or mounting brackets can throw a movement out of beat without any warning.
This worn pivot is an example of extreme wear
Another issue is that clocks not running are often neglected. Dust collects not only inside but also on and around the movement, often unnoticed. A clock that’s quietly sitting for years on a mantel or shelf might seem pristine, but a peek inside can reveal a surprising buildup of cobwebs, dust, or insect debris. I’ve found everything from spider nests to dead cluster flies inside clocks that had simply “sat for a few years.”
All Mechanical Things Age Better When Exercised – Just Like A Car
All mechanical things age better when exercised. All mechanical things age better when exercised, and a clock is no different than a car in this respect. Letting a car sit idle for months or years without driving it leads to flat spots on the tires, battery drain, stale fuel, and dried-out seals. My advice is to run your clocks from time to time — even just once a month. Let the gears move. Let the escapement tick away for a day or two or a complete cycle (a week if it’s an 8-day clock). It’s not only beneficial to the movement, but it also gives you a chance to observe how it’s performing.
And if you’re not quite ready to wind it fully, gently rotating the hands through a full 12-hour cycle once a month can help loosen things up, distribute any remaining oil, and identify warning signs like stiffness, resistance, or skipping.
A regulating pinion – not discoverable unless a movement is disassembled
Running your clock periodically also helps you maintain a connection with it. You’ll be more likely to notice subtle changes — a sluggish tick, a missed chime, a new sound — all of which can tell you something’s off long before a major issue arises. But even if something is slightly off, a service is a precautionary measure.
In my own collection, I maintain a controlled environment: consistent temperature, low humidity, no pets (I have no issue with pets!), and clean air — essentially a museum-like setting. Even so, I schedule regular health checks for all my clocks as a preventative measure.
I have a lot of clocks and I record work done on them to stay organized. I log every servicing, observation, and adjustment in an Excel spreadsheet. This not only helps me track wear patterns and service intervals but also creates a valuable record I can pass along with the clocks themselves, whether to my children or to future caretakers.
If you have only one clock or just a few, simply make a note on a calendar to remind yourself of any actions taken, whether it’s running the clock through a full cycle or even just moving the hands around the dial. You will thank me.
I have never been completely happy with how the movement runs in this Junghans Crispi wall clock. When I got the clock in 2017, I jumped right into restoring the case because it was an interesting challenge to put the clock together from a bunch of parts.
Junghans wall clock, circa 1899, model – Crispi
Now, eight years later, the clock continues to disappoint. The case remains in great shape, but the movement has been a consistent letdown.
Movement as found, about as dirty as it gets
Let’s take a step back in time.
Winter2017
After completing the work on the case, I turned my attention to the movement. During the disassembly and reassembly process, I accidentally broke not only the strike paddle but also a retention spring. In 2017, my skills weren’t advanced enough to repair the paddle and retaining spring myself, so I had the movement professionally serviced.
Broken strike paddle
During its 2017 service, the paddle was repaired and a new spring was installed. In addition, the movement had received extensive bushing work: six bushings on the front plate and six on the rear.
Three months later, I picked up the clock and hung it on my dining room wall. It ran perfectly for over two and a half years.
Spring2020
For some undetermined reason, the strike became erratic—it would strike incorrectly, fail to strike at all or strike incessantly until the mainspring ran down.
I had a number of other clock projects on the go so I kept the time side going and left it on the wall until later that year.
December 2020
In December, I disassembled the movement and discovered a slightly bent arbor on the strike side cam wheel. All other pivots were straight, and there were no noticeably worn pivot holes—everything else appeared to be in good condition.
I did notice a small amount of dirty oil around many of the pivots. While I was initially a bit surprised, it’s not entirely unusual after more than two years of regular operation.
Unfortunately, disaster struck again. While manipulating the plates, I snapped the paddle arbor retention spring—again! This time, however, I was able to repair it myself.
There was just enough of the original spring left to reuse. The wire is very thin (0.5 mm), extremely brittle, and breaks easily under even light pressure. Using a micro drill with a 0.5 mm HSS bit, I carefully enlarged the existing hole in the plate, reinstalled the spring, and secured it with Threadlocker Red to bond it firmly in place.
The movement was reassembled and tested. After the testing period the movement was returned to its case and ran well until about 6 months ago.
Fall 2024
While the time side was running well, the erratic striking returned, and after a few weeks, the clock began stopping just before the warning phase. I wound both the time and strike sides again to replicate the problem, and each time it stopped at the warning point. Feeling frustrated, I left the clock on the wall, wound only the time side, and still it stopped. Since I had other projects to tend to, I decided to leave this one on the back burner for a while.
The movement on a test stand
Spring 2025
Since I was free of immediate projects, I removed the movement from its case and placed it on the test stand. As expected, the time side ran fine. It was serviced not so long ago. For the last couple of months, however, it has been striking erratically or not at all. It enters warning without issue, but seems to almost stall during the striking process. I want to address this issue, but I also want to disassemble the movement to clean up both the pivots and the bushing holes, as the oil is dirtier than I expected.
Judging from similar movements I’ve worked on, I believe there are three issues at play:
A power issue, which suggests the mainspring is weak.
One or more bent pivots, preventing the wheels from turning freely.
The paddle is not correctly positioned in relation to the star wheel. The hammer begins lifting immediately at the drop-off, which stalls the strike train. Once it gets going again, the hammer lifts easily and quickly. I’ll try repositioning the star wheel to allow more run time before the hammer paddle is engaged.
The first issue means replacing the strike-side mainspring. The second issue involves manipulating pivots. There is always a risk of breaking a pivot when attempting to straighten it, not a pleasant experience, as re-pivoting is necessary.
Check back later for an update on what I discovered—which of the three issues turned out to be the culprit, and whether I was finally able to fix a clock that, at times, seems determined not to be fixed.
The other day, while teaching my criminal justice law class, I couldn’t help but notice how distracted the students were. Instead of participating in the discussion, they were glued to their phones.
Admittedly, the material was a bit dry that day, but it got me thinking about a book I’ve been reading recently, Stolen Focus by Johann Hari. In it, Hariargues that people of all ages are losing their ability to focus—and it’s not by chance; it’s being taken away from us – by design. Looking at the world around me, it’s hard not to see how reliant we’ve become on our cell phones and how social media is eroding our attention.
Focusing on a task like working with powerful mainsprings
Year after year, our screen time continues to rise, saysHari, and while I don’t have specific figures on hand, it’s evident that we’re spending hours daily on our phones and tablets. The real question is—what are we doing with that time? Is it being used constructively? For the most part, no! Much of it is spent consuming mind-numbing content on social media, all designed to feed the attention economy. Sites such as Facebook, Instagram, Tictok, and others may be free to use, but giving up personal data to enrich the companies hardly feels like a fair trade.
One story from Hari’s book really stuck with me. I won’t mention the social media site, but one day, a software engineer presented a proposal to the head of the organization. The company is a social media platform designed to connect people, allowing them to share content, stay updated with friends and family, and engage in online communities. Users can post photos, videos, and status updates, while also interacting with others through likes, comments, and shares. The platform’s algorithms prioritize content that captures users’ attention, often promoting posts that generate the most engagement.
The engineer proposed a novel program to let someone visiting a city connect with friends by pinpointing their exact location. The idea was to reach out to a nearby friend and invite them for coffee. The head of the company, however, questioned why anyone would want to meet in person, face to face—wouldn’t that take them away from their phones? His response was clear: “Don’t ever show me anything like that again.” I’m sure the platform that first comes to mind is the very one referenced in this example.
Only the naive would argue that organizations don’t make enormous profits by seizing and redirecting our attention. It doesn’t have to be that way, though, because we can choose how to engage with the world and reclaim control over where we direct our focus.
Carefully reaming a hole to insert a bushing, concentration is key
Hari’s book and my thoughts on other matters have made me reflect on how I use my time and the value of having a hobby, which for me is collecting, repairing, and restoring antique and vintage clocks. When I’m working on a clock, my attention is fully engaged, and often, I don’t even realize how much time has passed. I believe that hobbies are important teachers in channeling our energy and focus.
A hobby offers a break from the constant distractions of daily life, providing a space where the mind can fully immerse itself in the task at hand. Engaging in activities that demand attention to detail, like finding a solution to a clock repair challenge, helps the brain shift from the overwhelming stream of information to a more focused, intentional state. Hari refers to this focused state as “flow.” Flow, he says, is a deeply satisfying and harmonious experience. However, if “flow” is interrupted by distraction, it takes significant energy to regain focus, and returning to any task can be challenging.
When repainting a dial, it’s best to work in a distraction-free environment
This immersion in a hobby allows individuals to develop discipline, as it requires time and effort to master a craft or technique. Hobbies provide a sense of accomplishment that can be more fulfilling than the instant gratification often sought through social media. They promote a deeper, more meaningful connection to the present moment, encouraging individuals to be more mindful and intentional in their actions. Over time, practicing a hobby can enhance one’s ability to focus not just within that activity but by extension other areas of life as well, as it builds the mental stamina to concentrate and persist.
Beyond clock collecting and repair, my other hobbies complement each other and help me maintain focus. The clocks I collect and photograph, combined with the articles I write for my blog and the replies to enthusiasts who write to me about their clock issues, contribute to the harmonious cycle of personal engagement.
Photography sharpens my attention to detail as I capture the intricate features of each clock. Writing blog articles further refines my focus, encouraging me to research, reflect, and organize my thoughts in a way that promotes clarity and structure.
Waiting for the perfect moment to photograph a clock dial
Together, these hobbies create a rewarding routine that keeps me focused, grounded, and engaged while fostering a sense of purpose and accomplishment.
Finally, I apologize if this article comes across as a review, but I’m sure you’ve had the experience where, every once in a while, a book like Hari’s Stolen Focus comes along that challenges your perspective and makes you deeply reconsider how you direct your time and attention.
A German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, likely from the late 1940s, was gifted to my father-in-law—a physician in a small Nova Scotia town—by a grateful secretary, likely in the mid-to-late 1960s. It hung in the family home until 1997 when it was packed away during a move and eventually passed to the user’s brother-in-law. The clock was never displayed again and remained in storage for decades.
Recently, I was asked to restore it. My wife recalls the clock from childhood, confirming its presence in the home for many years. A service sticker inside the door, from “Time Center” in Amherst, Nova Scotia, suggests it was professionally serviced sometime between 1974 and 1996, most likely in the 1980s.
Now, after years of neglect, the clock is due for a full movement cleaning and cosmetic case touch-up.
I’ll cover the case restoration in this article. Surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.
A word about Clock Cases
I’m firmly opposed to stripping and refinishing clock cases for two key reasons. First, it destroys the original patina—a quality many collectors value and appreciate in antique clocks. Second, the finishing techniques used when these clocks were made are nearly impossible to replicate today. As a result, refinishing often produces a sanitized look that lacks the character and authenticity of the original.
Instead, I will begin by cleaning the case and attempting to minimize the nicks and scratches that have accumulated over time through normal use, using a light coat.
Cleaning and touch-ups
The Case
The clock case was cleaned and given two light coats of Minwax wipe-on poly, with a light sanding between applications. For the final polish, 2500-grit sandpaper was used to achieve a smooth finish.
The poly finish helped conceal minor scratches, though some faint marks remain visible upon close inspection.
The glass was thoroughly cleaned, and the brass strips on the door were polished using Brasso.
The spun brass bezel was also polished with Brasso. While there is some minor wear visible on the dial face, I chose to leave it untouched, aside from a gentle cleaning with soap and water, as it is not particularly noticeable from a normal viewing distance.
While I was working on the case, the movement was undergoing testing. It’s now at the end of the first testing phase, and the next step is to reinstall it into the case and continue with testing.
The complete clock
The movement dial is attached to the movement using four pins, one at each corner. Once the dial is in place, the hands are installed—first the hour hand, followed by the minute hand.
Once the dial is mounted on the movement and attached to the seat board, the assembly can be slid into the channels in the case and screwed into place. Under the seat board are two thumbscrews used to secure the movement.
The main challenge was positioning the strike hammers so they rest about 1/8″ from the strike rods. This involved some trial and error, requiring the movement to be removed several times for fine adjustments. The hammer rods are somewhat pliable and can be carefully bent into the correct position.
Finally
This well-traveled Mauthe clock has finally returned to active duty, proudly ticking away once more after decades in storage. With both the case and movement restored, it now stands as a meaningful family heirloom and a fine example of mid-century German craftsmanship.
Many years ago, my father-in-law received a gift from his secretary. As a physician in a small town in Nova Scotia, it was once common practice to accept small tokens of appreciation from fellow employees. The gift was a German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, often referred to today as a “box clock” and made sometime in the late 1940s.
It hung on the wall in my in-laws’ home until 1997, when they moved to a smaller house in the same town to downsize. The clock was packed away and never rehung in their new home. Instead, my brother-in-law took it to his home, about three hours away, presumably intending to display it. However, it remained in storage and was never hung.
Mauthe time and strike box clock
Recently, he asked if I could service the movement and restore the clock, and I gladly agreed.
My wife remembers the clock from her childhood, recalling it from when she was a young girl. This suggests it was gifted in the mid-to-late 1960s. Her father proudly hung the clock in the family home, and I remember his weekly ritual of winding it.
It was evidently serviced at least once. Inside the clock’s door, there is a sticker from a clockmaker in Amherst, identifying the repairer as Time Center, 5 Westminster Ave, Amherst. However, an online search yielded no information about this business. The sticker includes a Canadian postal code, which indicates that the clock was serviced after 1974, when postal codes were introduced in Nova Scotia. This means the servicing took place sometime between 1974 and 1996, though I cannot pinpoint the exact year. It likely would have been serviced in the 1980s.
A jewelry shop in Amherst, Nova Scotia, circa 1940s
After many years stored, it is long overdue for a cleaning. The plan is to service the movement and touch up a tired case.
Servicing the Movement
Before taking the clock apart, I wanted to see if it still worked. I removed the movement, oiled the pivots, and then placed the movement back into the case. I hung the clock on the wall in my office, wound it, attached the pendulum, and gave it a push. To my surprise, it ran for a while—despite having been in storage for years. Running the clock also reassured me that I likely wouldn’t encounter any significant mechanical issues.
The front plate is removed to show the two trains
However, the only way to confirm any wear for certain would be to disassemble the movement, which I proceeded to do.
Second wheels with robust Leaf pinions
I disassembled the movement, put all the parts in an ultrasonic cleaner, dried the parts after the cleaning, pegged the pivot holes, polished the pivots, and now checked for wear. I generally assemble the trains separately with the strike side first, since often it is the greater source of wear. I then move to the time side.
The movement looked to be in very good condition overall, though I noticed some wear in six of the pivot holes. The most worn appeared to be the third wheel on the backplate (or star wheel), and the second wheel on the time side backplate. In the end, I installed only two bushings—those pivot holes were in the worst condition.
This is a family clock, and I doubt it will see daily use; it’s more likely to serve as a decorative piece. If I were doing this as a professional repair, I would have addressed all signs of wear, which in this case might have meant installing up to six bushings.
Springs barrels with partially exposed mainsprings
I’m also donating my time to this project, so if the clock stops after a couple of years, I’d have no problem servicing it again.
The mainsprings were serviced by removing them from their barrels, thoroughly cleaning them, and then applying fresh oil. The barrels and their caps were also cleaned to remove any residual oil and were placed in the ultrasonic cleaner for a deep clean.
Mauthe clock dial
Reassembly
Transitioning from a typical American antique clock movement to a German one is a significant step, primarily because you’re dealing with much smaller pivots, which greatly increases the risk of bending or breaking them. Those who have replaced pivots before know how challenging the process can be—and that it requires specialized equipment, such as a metal lathe. This is a case where it’s essential to resist the urge to force the pivots into their respective holes and instead exercise a great deal of patience.
A pivot locator is an essential tool that every clock repair person should have in their toolbox.
Pivot locator
Assembling the movement begins with inserting the mainspring barrels onto the backplate. The third wheel on the time side is positioned between the barrels, which means the barrels go in first, then the third wheel and the three-wing retaining spring on the top are then secured in place. After that, all the other gears and put in place.
Once everything is where it should be, the front plate is positioned and secured in place by the two movement nuts on the barrel end, which helps prevent the plates from separating while aligning the pivots up the trains into their respective holes. On the strike side, I generally leave the fly and stop wheel out until the very last moment.
The escapement is worked in through the opening on the front plate after the movement is assembled and the two screws for the suspension spring bridge secure the escapement in place. Once they are in place, it is time to work on the front plate by installing the levers, the rack, and the snail.
This movement has four strike hammers. It produces its distinctive bim-bam sound by having one hammer strike the outermost rod, while the other three simultaneously strike the remaining rods. The arrangement involves a paddle and “L” rod system (one hammer on the paddle and three on the “L” rod), and both must be positioned between two points of the star wheel.
“L” rod and paddle in the centre of the photo
If not, one or the other may get caught on a star point and stop the strike. Sometimes, I’m successful on the first try; otherwise, I must open the plates and reposition the star wheel. In this case, I got it right the first time.
The only other adjustment to be mindful of is ensuring that the pin on the warning wheel—the uppermost gear on the strike side—is positioned roughly at the 12 o’clock mark. This ensures that the wheel spins enough to properly set up the warning.
Testing
I take a cautious step-by-step approach during the testing phase. I wind the time side first, observe the movement and the action of the escapement, and make any necessary adjustments to ensure that once the movement is level, the escapement is in beat. I then run it for 24 hours.
Once I’m satisfied that the time side will run reliably, I shift my focus to the strike side. I check the movement, ensure there aren’t any obvious obstructions, wind the strike side mainspring, and observe its action, taking care to note the position of the lever on the snail to ensure that all 12 hours strike properly. I did have to make one small correction. I adjusted the snail by removing it, repositioning it one cog to the left, and reinserting it to ensure it aligned properly with the flat sections.
I typically test for about 2 weeks or 2 eight-day cycles before I reinstall it into the case. Once in the case, I resumed testing for another two cycles.
Summary
I’ll cover the case restoration in a separate article. Notably, surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.
This project is particularly rewarding because it’s a family clock. It has been in the family for nearly 60 years and was a source of pride for my father-in-law. Were he still with us, I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that it’s being carefully restored to its original condition.
I receive a number of letters each day from clock enthusiasts, first-time buyers, and people who have inherited family clocks, among others. Typically, I share these letters—while keeping the writer’s identity and location confidential. However, in this case, I’ve chosen not to publish the letter, as doing so would reveal both the sender’s identity and the name of a specific clock repair shop.
Recently, I corresponded with a couple living in the northwestern United States. They inquired about the value of a 120-year-old German-made clock. A repairer had quoted them $2,500 for servicing and repairs, claiming the clock would then be guaranteed for 30 years and valued at $10,000. I asked them to send a photo for reference. While I won’t be posting their photo to protect their privacy, I will share an image of a very similar clock from my own collection.
Once I was sent the photo of the clock I was able to comment.
I replied,
Thank you for sharing the photo of your clock. Based on what I see, I wouldn’t date your clock as early as 1900. This type of clock is commonly referred to as “box clock” by collectors and enthusiasts. These time and strike wall clocks were produced in large quantities after the First World War and remained popular well into the late 1940s.
I’ve worked on many clocks of this type. The movements are generally well-engineered, and it’s rare to encounter serious mechanical issues. In my experience, the most significant problem you might run into is a broken mainspring. Even then, collateral damage to the time or strike train is uncommon.
If I may be candid, the repair cost you mentioned strikes me as quite high even if it included refurbishing the case. Also, it’s worth noting that no repair shop can realistically guarantee a clock movement for 30 years. Mechanical clocks typically need to be inspected and oiled every 3–5 years. Assuming the clock is running daily, a service interval of around five years is standard.
Regarding value: I’ve purchased several clocks of this type, and the most I’ve ever paid is $300.
If the clock has special provenance, that could certainly influence its assessed value.
And finally, my comments are based solely on the photo you provided. If the photo was sent in error and you’re referring to a different clock, please let me know.
Hope this helps.”
Common time and strike box clock movement
Let me say at this point that what I might be willing to pay for a clock may not reflect the values typically seen on online auction sites. I’ve become quite skilled at spotting good value when it comes to clocks.
In any event, I received a reply—once again, I won’t share it verbatim—but it partly supported what I had said while also questioning my estimate of the clock’s value and its age. I will add the clock in question had an unmarked movement and no maker’s name on the dial.
I replied,
“Thanks again for sharing more about your clock and the estimate you received. It’s clear you’ve put a lot of thought into preserving it, which is always wonderful to see. As I mentioned, these German wall clocks were especially popular from just after the First World War through to the 1940s. They were well-made and produced in large numbers by respected manufacturers in the Black Forest region.
As I also noted, I’ve purchased several clocks of this type, and the most I’ve ever paid is $300. While they may command higher prices in some cases, it’s uncommon to see them valued in the range your clock repairer suggests. There are always exceptions—particularly if a clock has an unusual history or distinctive design—but most tend to fall within the hundreds of dollars rather than the thousands.
Additionally, makers such as Junghans, Gustav Becker, Kienzle, and HAC almost always stamped their movements with trademarks as a point of pride. It’s true that I’ve seen and worked on some unmarked German movements, but they’re the exception rather than the rule.
At the end of the day, it really comes down to which perspective you find more convincing—whether it’s the valuation provided by the repair shop or the experience of collectors who regularly see these clocks. I simply offer my observations based on years of hands-on experience with similar clocks. Whatever you decide, I sincerely hope the clock brings you lasting enjoyment.”
I received a polite “thank you”
Key Takeaway
The key takeaway for readers is that opinions on a clock’s value can vary widely. In fact, two experts may arrive at very different conclusions. Yet, when it comes to estimating the worth of an antique clock, those same experts might not be as far apart as it first seems.
I believe the person who wrote to me had some reservations about the information they received from the clock repair shop—likely the reason they sought a second opinion. This case is also a rather extreme example, and it is my hope the inquirer will ask serious questions of the individual/shop working on their clock.
If you have a clock in need of repair, and the cost of repair seems steep, it is always prudent to ask for a second opinion from a collector or another clock repair shop.
Sometimes, demonstrating a task is easier than explaining it. This 14-minute beginner’s guide covers the basics of winding a mechanical clock, which is perfect for those who have just purchased their first one and need guidance.
The video explains how to wind different types of antique and vintage clocks, including shelf clocks, tall case clocks, wall clocks, and mantel clocks.
How to wind a mechanical clock – a beginner’s guide
It also covers the types of winding keys used and the importance of winding all necessary points. The guide begins with a brief introduction before demonstrating the winding process on various clock styles.
I’m no expert when it comes to making videos, but I try my best. If I missed a step, please let me know in the comments. Also, if there are more how-to videos you’d like to see, feel free to share your suggestions.
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!
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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