Can a Seized, Rusty Clock Movement Be Saved? An Ansonia Case Study

Some time ago, I was up for a real challenge when I bought an old clock that seemed hopelessly irreparable. While picking up another clock, the seller threw this one in for a few dollars more. The clock, an Ansonia Extra Drop, was in pieces and had been stored in a barn—literally—for many years. The case had completely come apart, and half the backboard was missing. Most would have thrown out this jumble of parts, but I saw a diamond in the rough.

The movement was intact, but it was the dirtiest I had ever seen. Okay, it looks bad, but might it be saved?

Front of movement showing plenty of rust

It was so rusty that none of the wheels would move. I was less concerned about the wheels and pivots because I knew that once I took it apart and cleaned it up, there was a good possibility that the wheels would move again. The rusty mainspring concerned me, however. A mainspring’s strength can be seriously compromised by the presence of rust. That said, it seemed to me that a surface coating of rust alone should not be too much of a problem.

Back of movement

After cleaning, polishing, and addressing pivot wear, the movement was reassembled, and a deciding the mainspring could be reused; here is the final result.

How well did it function? So well, in fact, that it is now one of my daily runners.

And the case, you might ask? Well, it is not perfect, but I managed to piece together what I had, add a piece of backboard from an old ogee clock, touch up the dial, add a new set of hands, pallets, and crutch, suspension rod, and construct a lower access door. While it may look good from afar, closer scrutiny reveals its rough edges. Most importantly, it tells a story of resurrection.

In the end, what first appeared to be a hopeless, rust-bound movement destined for the garbage can proved otherwise. Does that mean every movement can be successfully brought back to life? No—though for some irreparable clock movements, some parts can be salvaged. However, with careful work, patience, and a willingness to look beyond first impressions, this clock was made to run again.

It served as a reminder that even the most neglected mechanisms often deserve a second look—and that revival is sometimes less about miracles than about time and persistence.

Related Links

Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock does not run, and a rusty mainspring is the culprit; the clock was in pretty rough shape when I bought it and the only significant part missing is the brass dial bezel and a number of minor items such as the verge, hands, pendulum bob, suspension spring/rod, and the drop access door (which I made later on)

Making a drop door for the Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock; A barn find clock in pieces is a challenge for anyone. It was missing some parts. I discovered that I had enough to make something of it, and whatever was missing could be easily sourced or made. 

The challenges of restoring an Ansonia wall clock when parts are scarce; This clock was manufactured by the Ansonia Brass & Copper Co. around 1880. It is 26 inches high, 16 inches wide and 5 inches deep. It has a 16 inch round wood door bezel on a large 2 inch hinge. The drop section has serpentine sides and teardrop finials. The bottom access drop door opens downwards. Other Drop Extra access doors open to the side.

The Clock That Wasn’t Complete: My Waterbury Suffolk Discovery

This clock wasn’t one I set out to find. My wife and I were wandering through a sprawling antique shop in Almonte, Ontario—the kind of place where time itself seems to stand still. She drifted upstairs while I lingered below, each of us lost in our own quiet hunt. A few minutes later, she appeared at the top of the stairs and called down, “Take a look at this!” I climbed up, curious, and there it was—a clock that neither of us had expected to see, yet somehow felt right. We looked it over, exchanged a knowing glance, and decided the price was fair. A few moments later, it was ours.

For a while, I admired the clock just as it was—until a small detail caught my attention and led me down another path of discovery.

I initially thought the clock was complete until I posted a query on an online clock forum site and discovered that it was missing two trim pieces.

First photo of the clock

However, I also learned that the clock was named the Suffolk and was offered for sale by Waterbury from about 1907 to 1915. The clock is shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury Clocks book on page 270, which includes an image.

It is cased in mahogany, has an eight-day movement, and features a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. The six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial has spade and spear hands and a visible or open escapement. It includes a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15½ inches and 11¾ inches wide, with wooden biscuit feet.

The time and strike movement on a coiled gong

I asked myself what I should do about the missing trim pieces. I also wondered how they had fallen off, but it appears they were glued on at the factory and may have been vulnerable to coming loose if struck. In my experience, once a piece comes off and becomes separated from the clock, it is unfortunately lost forever.

The original pieces were carved mahogany blocks with a center cut-out. Since I don’t have the tools to duplicate that process, and the router bits I have are far too large for this type of work, I decided to come up with what I felt was an acceptable alternative.

I didn’t have any mahogany among my scrap wood selection, but then I remembered some trim pieces I’d received from a friend’s old pump organ about a year ago. At the time, I had no idea how I would use them, and as I suspected, they turned out to be made of mahogany.

Using a table saw, I cut out two test pieces to determine if the repair would work. They looked acceptable, even if not quite sized correctly, and since I had enough mahogany, I set about carefully measuring the final pieces. I decided to stack thinner sections in a relief style—quite the opposite of the original design.

Because the clock’s case parts varied slightly in tone, I knew the new pieces would end up a shade darker.

Test pieces, narrower than the final pieces

I then cut the final pieces, sanded off the finish, glued the sections together, and attached them to the base of the clock using carpenter’s wood glue. The final step was applying two coats of finishing paste wax. The clock now looks more complete, and unless one is familiar with the original design of the missing pieces, they would be hard-pressed to notice the difference.

The final outcome

Making changes to a clock’s case is never easy, for each alteration risks straying from what once was. Yet restoration is, by nature, a communication between the past and the present—to reconcile what time has taken and what care can restore. Though the change departs slightly from the original, it brings balance to the design in my view, and renews the clock’s quiet dignity. In that sense, I am content with the outcome.

Restoring the Suffolk reminded me that even small imperfections can lead to creative solutions. While my replacement trim pieces differ from the factory originals, they complement the clock’s character and preserve its charm—proof that restoration is as much about craftsmanship and ingenuity as it is about authenticity.

For those who appreciate a visual commentary, check out a 3 1/2 minute video I made during the project:

Echoes of an Unknown Maker: A Banjo Clock’s Journey Through Time

The American Banjo clock — often just called a banjo clock — got its name from the shape of its case, which resembles a banjo musical instrument. Although the design was patented in 1802 by Simon Willard, a renowned clockmaker from Roxbury, Massachusetts, Willard referred to his invention as the “Improved Timepiece,” not a banjo clock.

Willard-style banjo clock, c. 1810

There are essentially three types of mechanical banjo clocks. Those with lever escapements are usually in the lower price range, spring-driven examples occupy the middle ground, and weight-driven banjo clocks represent the higher end, typically costing several hundred dollars in fair condition to several thousand for authenticated examples from reputable makers.

My wife spotted the clock on Facebook Marketplace one evening. It was listed for $100, and the photo immediately caught my attention. I had a feeling it might be a diamond in the rough. I suggested she offer the seller $75, and to our surprise, the offer was accepted almost immediately. It seemed they just wanted it gone.

Seller’s photo, looking a little tired

The clock was one of several items the seller had for sale as part of a community-wide garage sale. So, a day later, we made the drive out to the rural part of Nova Scotia where the sale was taking place. When we arrived, we found the house and asked to see the clock. It was sitting there among other odds and ends, looking a little tired but full of promise.

Broken dial glass, original hands

As we examined it, I asked a few questions about its history. The seller explained that it had belonged to an uncle in Wolfville, Nova Scotia—a man who had once owned a large collection of antique clocks and had been in the family for over 60 years. That was all I needed to hear.

Before we left, the seller asked if I might be interested in another clock—a 30-hour mantel clock. “It’s worth a lot more than that one,” they insisted, nodding toward the banjo clock. I smiled and politely declined. Something told me the first clock was the one worth keeping.

Classic time-only movement

And I was right. Once we brought it home, cleaned it up, and did a little research, we discovered that it was indeed something special—a genuine, 1830s timepiece, a true diamond in the rough.

The clock was surprisingly heavy when I first lifted it, which told me right away that the weight was still inside the case. That was a good sign. Had it been missing, finding a proper replacement would have been a challenge—and there’s really nothing quite like having the original weight that once powered the movement so many decades ago.

It turned out to be a Federal-style banjo clock, housed in a rich mahogany case that bore the quiet dignity of age. The movement was intact, a promising start. At the top sat a graceful acorn finial, original to the clock—a small but telling detail. At first glance, I thought the carved reverse-scrolled side arms and lower base section were missing, but later learned that not all examples from this period included those features; In fact, simplicity was a defining feature of early timepieces.

The original steel hands, shaped in that classic banjo style, were still in place, and the dial face, though worn, retained much of its character. The glass bezel was broken but easily replaced. The case itself was dusty and a bit tired, with a few areas needing veneer work, a split wood bezel, but nothing beyond repair. As I examined it more closely, I discovered the winding crank tucked neatly into the bottom of the case—perhaps placed there by its last owner many years ago.

After some careful study and comparison with other examples online, and with help from a few knowledgeable members of a clock forum, I came to believe that the clock was made in the late 1830s in Boston—possibly by John Sawin. Sawin had apprenticed under Simon Willard and later worked as a journeyman for Aaron Willard, two of the most respected clockmakers of their day and inventors of the original patent timepiece. Unfortunately, there are no identifying marks on the case or movement, leaving its true maker a mystery—but a fascinating one all the same.

Fully restored clock on display in my home

With that in mind, I decided to give the old clock the attention it deserved. What followed was a careful cleaning, a bit of veneer work, minor repairs, glass bezel replacement, and the satisfaction of seeing history come back to life.

Echoes of Time: The Ansonia Wall Clock That Waited Fifty Years to Tick Again

We live in the northern part of Nova Scotia, and a trip to the Annapolis Valley for clock hunting is always a pleasure on an early fall day. It’s one of the province’s most beautiful regions — a mix of rolling hills, orchards, small farms, and picturesque little towns that always seem to welcome you back. Our destination this time was the town of Berwick, nestled right in the heart of the valley. It’s one of those places where time moves just a little more slowly — fitting, perhaps, for the clock that awaited us there.

Ansonia short drop schoolhouse-style clock

We had planned the trip beforehand, arranging to meet the seller at an agreed-upon time. The seller welcomed us warmly into his home and soon began to share the clock’s story. The clock had been in his family for over fifty years. “I never actually saw it running,” he said with a smile, “but my mother really loved that clock.” His mother had recently passed away, and he was in the midst of settling her estate. It was clear that selling the clock was not easy for him — it held sentimental value, as many family clocks do, but he knew it was time to let things go.

He told me that an antique dealer had been through the house earlier and offered one price for each room. “The clock alone was worth more than what he offered for one whole room,” he said, shaking his head. I could tell he wanted it to go to someone who would truly appreciate it. I promised it would be cared for and restored.

He believed the clock had come from an old schoolhouse in Ontario, decommissioned sometime in the 1950s, though its exact location has been lost to time. One can imagine it ticking away the hours for many years in that classroom.

The pine case is in lovely condition with only minor issues. Around the center of the dial, near the winding holes, some paint has been added — likely an attempt to cover small stains from decades of oily fingers winding and adjusting the clock.

Time only movement for a wall clock
Time only movement

The clock is an Ansonia octagonal short drop, often referred to as a schoolhouse clock. I’d place its manufacture around the turn of the 20th century — likely between 1900 and 1912. The number “12” is stamped on the movement, which may represent the year, though it could also just be a batch mark. The faint Ansonia trademark is still visible, and the letters “TT” are stamped nearby. This was my first Ansonia, and it’s always a thrill to study a new movement up close.

Image from the ad

One issue quickly revealed itself: the hour hand bushing was missing. The bushing provides the necessary friction fit with the cannon pinion, and without it, the hand simply spins. I suspect that’s why the clock was deemed “not working.” Someone probably thought the movement was faulty when, in fact, it was just missing this small part. Fortunately, it’s an easy fix that can be done with a replacement or a handmade bushing.

Testing in the case
Dial removed, showing the movement and its curious slope to the left

When I examined the pendulum, I noticed something curious — small pieces of a rotted elastic band on the rod just below the suspension spring. Why it was there, I have no idea. Perhaps someone thought it would steady the pendulum, or maybe it was part of an old improvised repair. These little mysteries often make clock restoration interesting.

After a minor adjustment — a slight bend of the crutch to bring the clock into beat — it began ticking steadily. There’s minimal wear visible, which was confirmed when I removed the movement for a full cleaning and inspection.

Much has been written about the Ansonia Clock Company, once one of the great names in American clockmaking. The company went into receivership just before the 1929 stock market crash — a sign of difficult times ahead. The machinery and dies were later sold to a Russian company, marking the end of an era. It’s always a little sad to think that such a remarkable chapter in horological history closed that way. Clocks bearing the Ansonia name are still sold today, but the name on the dial bears no real connection to the company that once was.

When the new hands arrived in the mail, the final touches were complete. The hour hand came with a proper bushing and fit perfectly on the cannon. The clock, fully serviced now, runs beautifully — a fine old Ansonia, rescued from dormancy and restored to life. It’s now proudly ticking away on my daughter’s office wall in Alberta, keeping time as faithfully as it did more than a century ago.

The Day I Found an Ingraham Huron Balloon Clock—and the Story That Came With It

Some time ago, I came across an ad on Facebook Marketplace for a clock owned by an older couple who lived about forty-five minutes from our home on the East Coast. When I first saw the photo, something about the clock caught my eye—it had character, a quiet dignity, and I had a feeling it might be special. I reached out to the seller through Facebook, and after a brief phone conversation, we agreed on a price that he felt was fair.

Rare Ingraham Huron found on a local online for-sale site
E Ingraham Huron Circa 1878

Finding their home wasn’t straightforward. We took a few wrong turns, but eventually found our way to a modest single-wide house nestled in the woods about twenty minutes from a larger coastal town. It was the kind of home that had clearly been lived in for decades.

A man in his early seventies greeted us at the door with a polite smile tinged with sadness. As we stepped inside, he excused himself and disappeared for a moment, returning with the clock in his hands. I asked him why he had decided to sell it, especially since he mentioned it had belonged to his grandmother and had been in his family for as long as he could remember.

He paused before answering, his eyes drifting toward the window. “My wife and I have decided to go our separate ways,” he said softly. “She wants to live in town, but I can’t bring myself to leave this place. Everything I care about is here—my shop (which was larger than his house!), my tools, my memories, but we have to get rid of some stuff”.

As he spoke, it became clear that the clock was more than just an heirloom—it was a piece of his past, a witness to the life he had built in that home. Letting it go wasn’t just about making space; it was about closing a chapter.

I examined the clock carefully, noting that it was complete and in good condition. “I’ll take it,” I said with a smile. Just inside the case, I noticed a penciled marking that read “Hebb and 1944.” The seller recalled a Hebb family who once lived in the Bridgewater area of Nova Scotia, near where I purchased the clock — perhaps a clock tinkerer.

“Okay,” he replied, then hesitated for a moment before adding, “Would you happen to be interested in Elvis Presley memorabilia?”

I glanced over at my wife, who was already trying not to laugh. The question caught us both off guard—we couldn’t have been less interested in that sort of thing, but his earnestness made the moment oddly endearing.

Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co.

It is a rosewood-veneered Huron shelf clock by E. Ingraham & Co., Bristol, Connecticut. It features a paper-on-zinc dial with a round glazed door and a lower glass access panel. The Huron is one of the less commonly found Ingraham models of the period, having been manufactured briefly between 1878 and 1880. The maker’s label remains intact on the inside of the backboard. The clock has a brass, eight-day, spring-powered movement and stands 16 inches tall.

The veneers are in excellent condition, with no splitting or cracking. The clock face shows a build-up of grime, which I chose to leave as is. The base corner pieces show slight wear, but both door catches are sound. The glass is perfect, the door hinges are in excellent condition, and both the upper and lower doors still fit with precision. The pendulum retains its original lacquer and presents well. Before examining the movement, a gentle push of the pendulum suggested that something was amiss.

Once I extracted the movement from its case, it was certainly not without its issues. There was plenty of solder applied here and there—evidently, a past repairer believed that the more solder, the better. During restoration, all traces of it were carefully removed, and the movement was thoroughly cleaned and brought back to full working order.

The movement was not without its issues

I’ve often said that if the day ever comes when I’m compelled to downsize my collection, this would be one I’d keep. Not for its rarity or provenance, but because it embodies everything I admire in a clock—the craftsmanship, the quiet dignity, and the enduring beauty of something well made and lovingly preserved, and the story that became part of it.

Kienzle clock on display with Ingraham Huron
Ingraham Huron shelf clock

In the end, it’s pieces like this that remind me why I collect—not to own more clocks, but to honour the skill and spirit of those who built them, one tick at a time.

Discovering a Rare Waterbury Clock in Almonte, Ontario

Almonte, Ontario, (Canada) is a town that practically invites you to slow down and explore, and that’s exactly what my wife and I did one afternoon in September. In fact, it is called “The Friendly Town”. We drifted from one antique shop to another, discovering all sorts of curiosities. But in one store, I found something that stopped me in my tracks—a stately Waterbury time and strike mantel clock. It felt like uncovering a hidden story, and I couldn’t resist bringing it home.

There are many antique stores in Almonte, but this is where the clock was purchased

I was drawn to the open escapement and porcelain dial—features that are relatively rare in a common American clock.

Untouched and before a cleaning

At first glance, it looked intact, but after posting the clock on a popular clock collectors’ website, I was informed that the case appeared to be missing the lower parts of the columns. I asked the poster to supply a photo for comparison. In the meantime, I carefully examined the case myself and did not find any anchor points or residual glue traces that would suggest something had originally been attached there.

However, further research revealed that there were indeed trim pieces under the columns. This photo, taken from the 1909–10 Waterbury Clock catalog, shows the complete clock. You will note that in 1909–10, the clock was listed at $23.00, slightly more than a typical middle-class worker’s weekly wages in 1910.

The clock is called the “Suffolk”, as shown in Tran Duy Ly’s Waterbury book on page 270 (and the catalog photo above). It is cased in Mahogany, has an 8-day movement, and has a half-hour strike with a coiled gong. It has a six-inch “ivory” (porcelain?) dial with spade and spear hands, and a visible or open escapement. It features a cast gilt sash and bezel with convex beveled glass. The clock is tall at 15 1/2 inches and is 11 3/4 inches wide with wooden biscuit feet.

As an aside, Waterbury also produced a Suffolk model in 1891, which is entirely different from this clock.

The poster said that it is also shown in the 1915 catalog. The patent date on the movement plate is September 1898, so it is quite possible that Waterbury offered the movement for this and other models for a number of years.

When I first looked over the movement, I could see it had been well cared for, still showing a bright, clean finish. But then I noticed something odd: the pendulum was hooked directly onto the crutch. That explained everything—of course, the clock wouldn’t run! It was likely this simple issue that led the seller to list it ‘as is,’ and therefore at a better price.

While trying to think of a way to make a new suspension spring and rod, I thought, why not check the bottom of the case? Sure enough, the original suspension spring and rod had been tucked into a crevice at the inside bottom of the case.

With the suspension rod attached and the gong in place

After installing the suspension spring and rod, I wound the movement, gave the pendulum a gentle push, and to my relief, the clock sprang to life. I’m holding off on letting it run too long until I oil the pivots. Once that’s done, I’ll let it run for a while to see if it can make a full 8-day cycle. After that, it will be set aside for proper servicing.

Despite the missing lower trim pieces and the slight chipping around the number 12 on the porcelain dial, it remains a very nice clock and is reasonably well-preserved.

From the tucked-away suspension spring & rod to the moment the pendulum first swung, it reminded me how even the simplest details can make all the difference in getting a clock to run. While it will eventually need a full servicing, seeing it come to life again was a rewarding reminder of why I love collecting and caring for these fascinating pieces of history.

Top 6 Locations to Avoid for Antique Clock Placement

Antique clocks are more than just timekeepers—they’re pieces of history that deserve thoughtful care and placement in your home. While it’s tempting to display them wherever they look best, some locations can cause serious harm to their delicate movements and finishes.

Knowing where not to place your antique clock is just as important as choosing the right spot. To help preserve their beauty and function for generations to come.

Here are some key areas around your home to avoid.

Around Or Above Door Frames

Avoid placing clocks above or near door frames, especially exterior doors, where vibrations from frequent opening and closing can loosen mounting hardware or cause gradual misalignment. These spots (especially over a door) are also awkward for winding and increase the risk of the clock falling, potentially damaging the clock and causing personal injury

Humid Areas Such As The Kitchen, Especially Above a Sink

Kitchens can be surprisingly harsh environments for antique clocks. Steam, grease, and fluctuating humidity—especially near the sink area can lead to corrosion, warped wood, and sticky build-up in the movements.

As much as an antique clock might look quaint in a bathroom, humidity is not kind to an old wood-cased clock.

On Top Of Appliances Or Anything That Vibrates

Appliances like refrigerators, microwaves, or stereos generate heat and vibrations, both of which can degrade a clock’s mechanical integrity over time by gradually knocking a pendulum out of beat or rhythm, affecting timekeeping accuracy. Vibrations can loosen screws, nuts, or mounts inside the clock mechanism.

These surfaces also tend to collect dust and grease, which can infiltrate the clock case.

High Traffic Areas, Such As Narrow Hallways, Especially For Hanging Clocks

In busy or narrow spaces, hanging clocks are at greater risk of being bumped or brushed against, which can knock them out of beat or even send them crashing to the floor.

Direct Sunlight

Constant sun exposure can fade dials, dry out lubricants, crack finishes, and cause uneven fading or bleaching of wood cases and veneer separation.

Near Heating Vents Or Above Heating Registers

Heat from vents and registers rises and can dry out wood, warp components, and accelerate the breakdown of clock oils, causing veneer separation, shortening the interval between servicing.

Clocks placed above fireplaces or wood stoves are especially vulnerable to heat-related damage. Heat rises directly from these sources, creating a concentrated stream of hot air that can dry out wooden cases, leading to cracking, splitting, or loosening of glued joints and veneer. Placement in these locations can accelerate oil breakdown, leading to increased friction and wear in the movement, shortening the interval between servicing.

Children’s Play Areas

When placing antique clocks in a home, avoid areas where children play. Children’s play areas are prone to bumps, flying toys, and general high-energy activity, all of which pose a risk to delicate and valuable clocks. Even wall-mounted clocks can be accidentally knocked loose if mounted too low or within reach. For safety and preservation, it’s best to keep antique clocks out of rooms dedicated to play or where young children frequently gather.

Final Thoughts

Choosing the right location for your antique clock is about more than just aesthetics—it’s about protecting a valuable clock from the damaging effects of heat, moisture, vibration, and physical impact.

By avoiding areas like above door frames, near heating vents, in kitchens, on top of appliances, and in sunny or high-traffic zones, you help ensure your clock runs smoothly and looks beautiful for years to come. With proper placement, your clock will not only keep time but also continue to tell its own story as a cherished possession.

Tick Talk Tuesday #59 | Identifying a Tallcase Clock

Tick-Talk Tuesday is a special time when I respond to readers’ letters and comments about clock issues, challenges, and recommendations for specific clocks. When the comments and questions are especially complex, I consult with fellow clock enthusiasts within my circle to ensure I offer the most precise and helpful answers possible.

David P writes

I am inquiring if there is any chance you could offer me an opinion of who the maker maybe of the below clock. I am exploring purchasing the clock and just trying to learn more about it. I am not looking for an appraisal or value, just trying to determine the maker.  Thank you in advance for any help you can provide.  

Respectfully,

David P.

My Reply

Hi, and thanks for your email, David P. What do you know, and what have you been told about the clock? (Unfortunately, I received no further details about the clock from David)

My initial impression was that it might be an English or Scottish tall case clock. This style was widely produced in both England and Scotland from the early 19th century up until around 1900. American clockmakers of the period were strongly influenced by these British designs.

However, upon further examination, it appears to have all the features of an early 1800s to 1825 American clock, including the plain, understated case, the design of the columns and capitals, the top fretwork, the brass finials, and the arched dial with a moon phase and calendar window.

These clocks are difficult to identify unless there are markings on the clock case or dial face. A painted name is typically on the dial, usually below the center arbour, often including the maker’s town or city. On painted dials, the name may be faint or worn off due to age.

There may be a name or trademark on the backplate or front plate of the movement but I have found that to be less common with many clocks having generic “English-style” bell strike movements. Even less common is a signature found inside the case door or on the backboard. Sometimes, paper labels were pasted inside the case though extremely rare.

Some makers at the time were Simon Willard (Roxbury, MA) – Famous for tall case clocks and his patent timepiece (“banjo” clock). He used finely made 8-day brass movements.

Others were Elnathan Taber, Aaron Willard, from the Willard family.

Daniel Munroe, Lemuel Curtis were top-tier Massachusetts makers, David Rittenhouse (Philadelphia) was renowned for his precision movements and astronomical clocks. John Wood, Benjamin Chandlee, and others in Pennsylvania and Maryland made complex 8-day brass movements.

That said, determining the maker of a clock can be particularly challenging when there is no visible trademark, label, or inscription. However, experienced collectors and horologists often look for clues in the construction of the case and the design characteristics of the movement. Certain features—such as the shape or the style of the hands and pendulum, the design of the dial face—may point to specific regions or even individual makers. That said, without definitive markings, any attribution remains speculative and requires careful comparison with known examples from the period.

In short, I cannot identify the clock—more research is needed. I would add that if it were made by an eminent American clockmaker, such as Simon Willard, it would have been identified as such by now.

The bottom line is that it looks impressive, it appears to be intact, and if you like it and it falls within your budget, it would be a nice acquisition.

Ron

Time to Celebrate: A 4th of July Note to My Clock Friends in the U.S.

To all my horology friends south of the border—Happy Independence Day!

As you gather with friends and family to celebrate the birth of your nation, I wanted to take a moment to salute your enduring love for antique and vintage clocks. Whether you collect Ansonia, Seth Thomas, Gilbert, or Howard, or any of the other noted American clock producers, your passion for preserving the legacy of American clockmaking adds something timeless to this day of celebration.

Many of the finest examples of American ingenuity can be found not only in your founding documents and fireworks but also in the gears and gongs of your historic clocks. From early wooden movements to robust steel mainsprings, the story of American clocks is one of invention, ambition, and craftsmanship. What better day to wind up a classic, set it ticking, and reflect on all that history?

So raise a toast to liberty, craftsmanship, and clocks that keep ticking through the ages.

From your horology friend up north—Happy 4th of July, and may your time be well spent!

What Makes a Clock Antique or Vintage?

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
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.

Watch My Short Video on all the Arthur Pequegnat Clocks in My Collection

I have a collection of 11 Arthur Pequegnat clocks, including three beautiful wall clocks which you can view on this 5-minute YouTube video.

I have written extensively about the Arthur Pequegnat Clock Company, but to summarize: the company was founded in Berlin, Ontario (renamed Kitchener in 1917) in 1904 and produced its final clock in 1941.

As regular readers know, I have been a passionate collector for 15 years, I take great joy in repairing and restoring old clocks. My collection has grown to 85 unique timepieces, each with its own story.

Background music and titles are provided only. If you have any questions about my Pequegnat collection or a specific clock, feel free to leave a comment.

For more about my journey and insights into clock collecting, explore my other blog articles.

On My Workbench | Type 89 Movement by Seth Thomas and a Strike Side Issue

The Seth Thomas Type 89 movement is a robust and well-regarded mechanical clock movement widely used in many of Seth Thomas’ mantel and shelf clocks from the early 20th century to 1938.

The movement was introduced in 1900 and became one of Seth Thomas’ most popular and enduring movements.

There are several variants (89A, 89C, 89D, etc.), each tailored to specific clock models. The differences often involve small design adjustments like the escapement, strike train, or gearing. For example, some had solid back plates, some cut out, and some had a passing bell on the half-hour.

All Type 89 movements are time and strike and eight-day running and most use a strip pallet deadbeat escapement or according to Seth Thomas’s literature a “half deadbeat” escapement which is reliable and relatively easy to service. The most striking difference between the half-deadbeat and a recoil escapement is that the escape wheel teeth slant forward into the direction of rotation. Advantages: it was cheap to produce and still has fairly decent time-keeping ability. This video (no sound) shows the action of the escapement.

I consulted a chart (below) describing all the variations of the 89 and from what I can deduce this one is a type 89C movement.

Two Important strike-side Issues

The movement was in good condition overall. It was cleaned up and three new bushings were installed. The escape wheel bushings front and back were the most worn. The next was the fourth wheel front plate, adjacent to the escape wheel.

Testing the depthing of the wheels

One minor hiccup when reassembling was dealing with a broken helper spring on the lifting lever. Shortening the spring by taking one coil off the arbour did not pose any running issues.

Taken directly from the case on the day of purchase

However, once the cleaning and wear issues were addressed two other problems remained. The strike would not go into warning and the hammer did not move when the strike side was pushed to run.

It seems that whoever previously worked on it did not properly set up the strike side, likely neglecting to position the stop wheel correctly to ensure the strike mechanism would go into warning. Warning refers to a brief preparatory phase in the strike mechanism. This occurs just before the clock strikes. When the time approaches a strike point (such as the hour or half-hour), the movement enters the warning phase to prepare for the strike sequence. The warning phase is essential for ensuring the clock strikes consistently and on time. Improper setup of the warning phase can lead to the strike train failing to run.

While reassembling the movement, position the paddle lever in one of the indents on the cam while ensuring the paddle itself rests in a deep slot of the count wheel. The paddle should be straight into the deep slot without touching either side and pointed directly at the main wheel arbour.

The warning wheel can be adjusted after reassembly. Once all the wheels and levers are in their respective locations, carefully separate the plates slightly at the flywheel corner, ensuring no other components shift out of place. Then, when the pivot is out of its hole and the lantern pinion is disengaged from the adjacent gear, rotate the stop wheel until its pin meets the stop lever. If the levers are correctly positioned, the movement will enter the warning phase.

The stop wheel is at the upper right, with the pin

The second issue involved the hammer strike. A previous repairer had over-bent the strike rod, creating alignment problems. On the opposite side of the strike cam wheel are two striking pins, which the strike rod must reach to activate the hammer and sound the coiled gong. In this case, the rod had been positioned too close to the center, preventing it from contacting the strike pins. After some trial and error and careful bending of the strike rod, the movement is now properly aligned and able to sound the strike.

The final step is thorough testing. Placed on the test stand, the movement will be carefully monitored over the next several days to ensure everything functions smoothly and reliably.

A Special Note

I would also like to recognize Saint Valentine’s Day (February 14th) and I hope that everyone takes the time to cherish those around them, whether through a kind word, thoughtful gesture, or simply appreciating the moments that make life special. Happy Valentine’s Day!

What is My Clock Worth? | 2025 update

This blog post was first published in 2016, and it’s now time to revisit and update it to reflect the changes in market conditions and prices since then. There are many reasons why clock prices are low and continue to decline, but at the risk of oversimplifying, I will say that the law of supply and demand applies to this area of collecting, as it does to many others. Thousands of clocks were produced in the past, and antique clocks have flooded online marketplaces in recent years.

Every clock owner wants to know the value of their clock, and every seller wants to know the right price to ask. This guide aims to help both buyers and sellers by addressing key factors involved in assessing the value of an antique or vintage clock.

The Unpredictable Clock Market

In today’s unpredictable clock market, determining a clock’s value can be a challenge. What you think your clock is worth might not align with expert opinions or what buyers are willing to pay. Values can shift from day to day and are influenced by many factors. The market can be unpredictable, and the value of a clock may fluctuate significantly over time.

For example, take a typical ad for a mid-1990s Howard Miller grandfather clock on Facebook Marketplace. The seller may have paid $3,000 at the time and think that an asking price of $1,500 is fair. However, if the clock fails to generate interest, it could ultimately sell for much less. I’ve seen these clocks go for as low as $400 and even less. I’ll explain why at the end of this article.

The personal value the owner places on the clock often differs from its market value, leading sellers to either accept a lower price than expected or remove the ad altogether.

Easy to find, difficult to realize more than a few dollars for one on a sale

Even expert appraisals are subjective, based on the condition and collectibility of the clock, and are subject to market shifts. For example, while my Ridgeway grandfather clock is in excellent condition and a standout piece in my home, it has little market value today.

Factors That Influence the Value of a Clock

Is the clock original? Sometimes it is difficult to tell if every part of the clock is original? But a completely original clock in pristine condition holds more value than one that has suffered the ravages of time, neglect, or poor restoration.

Original clocks attract more buyers. If a clock has undergone significant repairs or replacement parts, its value will decrease. Determining originality can be difficult unless an expert inspects the clock. Many “Vienna Regulator” clocks, for instance, have been assembled with mismatched parts or movements, affecting their authenticity and value.

George H. Clark 30 hour Ogee
Many Ogee clocks have replacement movements, dials, hands, weights, tablets, and so on

What type or style of clock is it? While some clocks, like certain American mantel clocks, have little value due to many thousands of them having been produced, other styles such as 18th-century English bracket clocks or ornate French Cartel clocks can fetch high prices due to their rarity and historical significance. Tall-case clocks, despite their age, will often sell for much less than their original value.

Session Seth Thomas mantel clock
Mantel clocks were produced by the thousands and have little to no value

Does the clock have a label, trademark, or prominent name? Clocks with identifiable labels or trademarks tend to be more valuable. Prominent clockmakers’ such as E. Howard or Simon Willard, hold more value than similar, unmarked clocks. Replacement labels or unmarked movements lower the clock’s desirability.

This elegant 1830s banjo clock could have been crafted by a renowned clockmaker but is unmarked and holds minimal value.

Is it from the correct period, or is it a “knock-off” or reproduction? Many clocks, like the reissues of the Seth Thomas Regulator #2 in the 1970s, are less valuable than their original counterparts. Identifying subtle differences between originals and reproductions is key. Japanese and Chinese manufacturers produced “millions” of knock-off wall clocks that might fool the novice buyer.

Cheap and disposable Chinese-made clock, not worth repairing or buying

Does the clock have provenance? The history of a clock can add value. For instance, a clock with a documented history, owned by a famous person, for example, may command a higher price due to its historical significance. Intricately made tall case clocks with special provenance, made by noted clockmakers, for instance, will command high prices.

Ornate clocks such as this one are worth a small fortune

What is the age and condition? Much like antique cars, a clock’s age can contribute to its value, but condition plays a far more significant role. Just as a classic car with rust, missing components, or subpar restorations loses its appeal and worth, a clock with missing parts, poor repairs, or a poorly repainted dial will see its value diminish. Similarly, some clocks, despite their age, may lack desirability due to inferior craftsmanship or limited collector interest, much like certain vintage cars that fail to garner attention despite their years.

180-year-old woodworks clock; worth almost nothing, old is not gold!

Is the clock collectible? Rare or unique clocks are highly collectible. For instance, antique Canadian-made Arthur Pequegnat clocks are highly sought after in Canada, while the same clocks may have limited appeal outside specific regions.

Kienzle World Time clock
For some reason, these Series I Kienzle World Time clocks tend to fetch high prices

What is the mechanism type? Generally, three-train clocks (time, strike, and chime) are more complex and valued higher than two-train clocks (time and strike). Weight-driven clocks tend to be worth more than spring-driven ones. Conversely, some collectors tend to steer clear of complex clocks due to the challenges involved in repairing them.

People Don’t Want Clocks Anymore

The declining interest in antique and vintage clocks stems from several factors. Modern lifestyles prioritize convenience, and digital devices like smartphones and smart home systems have replaced traditional clocks as timekeeping tools. Generally, I find that younger generations do not share the same appreciation for historical craftsmanship, focusing instead on technology or experiences over physical heirlooms.

Modern homes, often compact condominiums with limited space, leave little room for accommodating a clock.

Antique clocks often require maintenance and specialized knowledge to repair, which can deter potential buyers.

Changing interior design trends also play a role, as many people prefer minimalist or contemporary aesthetics that do not accommodate antique and vintage clocks.

In the coming years, the prices of clocks will decline further as Baby Boomers—many of whom have been the primary custodians of antique and vintage clocks—enter retirement, downsize their homes, or pass away. This generational shift often leads to an influx of clocks entering the market as these individuals or their families divest of heirlooms and collectibles, items their own children do not want. With younger generations generally less interested in owning or maintaining such treasures, the supply will far outpace demand. This over-saturation, combined with changing tastes and priorities, will drive prices down even further, making it a buyer’s market for those who appreciate the art and history of antique clocks.

Do Your Research

Research is the key to determining value. Study online auction sites, local sales, reputable clock shops, and message boards to gauge prices. Be aware that clock prices are highly volatile and can change quickly based on supply and demand.

Before buying or selling, also research prices on eBay, reputable auction houses, and through local dealers. Finding clocks similar to yours can give you a price range to gauge your clock’s value—whether for personal interest or if you’re planning to sell.

Understand that clock prices fluctuate, and markets can be unpredictable. Always do your homework, ask questions, and provide honest descriptions if selling. Keep in mind that certain mass-produced clocks, many from China, Korea, and Japan, are not in high demand among collectors. This was true in 2016 and true today.

With the Internet’s impact, many clocks once thought to be rare have flooded the market, which affects prices. The law of supply and demand dictates that as supply increases and demand decreases, prices will drop. However, high-end, collectible clocks continue to retain their value.

Summary

Determining the value of an antique or vintage clock can be challenging, influenced by factors like originality, condition, age, and market demand. While personal sentiment often plays a role in perceived value, the reality of the unpredictable clock market requires thorough research and realistic expectations. Whether you’re buying or selling, understanding what makes a clock desirable and collectible will help you navigate this ever-changing landscape. With patience and knowledge, you can uncover hidden treasures or find the right buyer for your timepiece.

Is now a good time to purchase that special clock? With careful research, you may find bargains, but tread lightly, the clock market can be a minefield.

The Rare Brass Mainsprings of Elisha Manross Clocks

When discussing American clocks, the name Elisha Manross might not come to mind as readily as prominent makers like Seth Thomas, New Haven, or Waterbury. However, Elisha Manross (1792–1856) played a pivotal role as a pioneer in the development of Connecticut clockmaking.

In 1812, at the age of 20, Elisha Manross, along with John Cowls, opened a shop in Bristol, Connecticut. Initially focused on woodturning, Manross did not set out to be a clockmaker. In 1825, he began making clock parts for other clockmakers. By 1835, Bristol was home to over a dozen clock factories producing woodworks clocks, and that year, Manross started producing clocks of his own. The 1837 depression marked the decline of wooden movement clocks and the rise of brass movements, particularly those invented and produced by Jerome1.

In the early years of clock production, materials were limited, and brass was commonly used for most components.

Brass mainsprings are exceptionally rare, and a clockmaker could easily go their entire career without encountering one. This is because brass mainsprings were only used for a brief period in American clockmaking history. Although carbon steel springs were used in Europe as early as the 1760s this technology was not used in America until the late 1840s.

From 1836 to 1850, brass was relatively inexpensive and readily available as a mainspring material due to the high cost of steel at the time. Brass is certainly not the best material to use as a mainspring since it is not as strong as steel and it loses its elasticity over time.

Tempered brass mainspring, American Clock and Watch Museum, Bristol Connecticut, June 2019

In 1847, the tempered steel mainspring, designed for everyday clocks, was introduced. This innovation quickly rendered brass mainsprings obsolete, relegating them to a niche chapter in horological history.

It is common for 30-hour time-and-strike Gothic steeple clocks, like this one by Elisha Manross, to feature steel mainsprings. Why? Because the original brass mainsprings broke and were replaced. The fact that this clock retains its original brass mainsprings in excellent condition suggests that it has led a relatively gentle life despite evidence of other repairs made to the movement over the years.

Elisha Manross 30 hour movement
Elisha Manross 30 hour movement, as found

While some might consider replacing the brass with steel mainsprings, my priority was to maintain the originals. These brass mainsprings represent a significant chapter in the history of American clockmaking and deserve to remain in the movement where they belong.

Continue reading “The Rare Brass Mainsprings of Elisha Manross Clocks”

Relocating A Shelf Clock To A…Well, A shelf

For years, my Seth Thomas column and cornice clock rested atop an antique radio in our living room. However, after redecorating the space with hardwood flooring in place of the carpet, the radio and clock no longer suited the updated space.

Seth Thomas column and cornice "Empire" style time and strike shelf clock
Seth Thomas column and cornice “Empire” style time and strike weight driven shelf clock

I did not want to relegate the clock to storage, so I opted to find it a new spot in our home. Since most of the other rooms already had plenty of clocks, I decided to display it in my office.

This lovely Seth Thomas time and strike eight-day weight-driven column and cornice clock with hour strike features an attractive veneer case with cove molded crest, lyre movement, three-quarter columns in painted gold, and two glass doors, one with a reverse painted design, opening to the interior clock works which reveal a tin painted dial and the original printed and illustrated Seth Thomas clock makers label. It is 32″ tall, 18″ wide and 5“ deep.

The dial had some losses

The clock has one unique detail: while the lower tablet is original, the upper tablet was recreated from a photograph of hanging fruit, modified to complement the design below. Additionally, the dial, which had suffered some losses in the corners and chapter ring, was repainted.

The painted tin Roman Numeral dial has hand-decorated flower spandrels in all four corners with the centre portion of the brass lyre movement visible through the dial.

Among collectors an appropriate descriptor for this clock is “column and cornice” but it is also generally classified as a shelf clock. This particular clock features a hook on the top of its case, likely intended by a past owner for installation that way. While I have seen similar clocks mounted like this online, they were never originally designed to be hung.

However, the hook might serve an additional purpose. Given that these clocks can become top-heavy when fully wound, the hook could be an effective way to secure the clock to a wall, especially in areas where it might be easily bumped.

Building the Shelf

The first step was to build a shelf to accommodate the clock. I had some leftover 8-inch-deep pine boards from a previous project, which were ideal for this purpose. I purchased extra pine braces some time ago, and they turned out to be perfect for completing the project. I cut a piece about 22 inches long and painted it a shade of beige. The base of the clock is 18 inches leaving 2 inches on either side.

Pine board and braces

The next step was to mount the braces to the wall. Knowing the room had studs spaced 16 inches apart, I used a stud finder to locate the first stud and then measured 16 inches to find the second one.

Sixteen inches on centre

Once the braces were mounted and made level I installed the shelf using wood screws.

The clock is positioned on the shelf

Checking for the Correct Beat

Now to determine if the shelf is level and the clock is in beat. Using a Timetrax Clock Timing Machine I switched to the BAL feature to check the beat.

Timetrax microphone attached to the winding arbour

A beat adjustment was unnecessary as the clock was already leveled. If leveling were needed, it would simply involve slightly bending the crutch incrementally to find the beat. While checking the beat can easily be done by ear, it made sense to use my Timetrax device for greater precision.

Timetrax Clock Timing Machine

According to the Timetrax instruction manual If the beat is within plus or minus 20 the clock is in beat. In this case, it was almost dead on.

Seth Thomas clock mounted on a shelf (note repainted dial)

Once the beat is confirmed, the weights are replaced, the hands and dial can be reattached, and the pendulum is given a slight push.

After confirming the beat the clock was ready to be displayed in its new spot. This Seth Thomas column and cornice clock, with its exquisite veneer case and distinctive features, now takes pride of place in my office, where it brings an added touch of elegance to the room. Moreover, since the room houses many spring-driven clocks, a weight-driven clock will provide a more accurate reference for timekeeping.

I’m pleased to have found a new location for it, as it truly deserves to be on display.

The Art of Minimal Invasive Clock Preservation

The term minimal invasive intervention refers to the delicate decision-making process regarding how much work should be done to repair, restore, or conserve a clock without significantly altering its original character. It encapsulates a challenge many collectors face: balancing preservation with functionality.

Some argue that any work performed on an antique clock detracts from its value, much like installing new fenders on an antique car. While it may improve appearance or functionality, it might make the piece less desirable to purists. So, at what point does intervention—however well-intentioned—compromise a clock’s value?

When original parts, particularly the movement or key aesthetic features, are replaced with non-original or modern components, the clock often loses collector value. Authenticity is a cornerstone of desirability for collectors. Replacing a worn movement with a reproduction or modern equivalent significantly reduces value, even if it restores functionality.

Excessive restoration, such as refinishing to a like-new condition, can erase the patina, wear, or other marks of age that contribute to the clock’s historical character. Collectors value the evidence of a clock’s journey through time.

Alterations that cannot be undone, such as resizing a case, changing its design, or permanently altering the movement, reduce value. Reversibility is crucial in maintaining collector interest.

Intervention may not compromise value if the repair restores function without altering original materials or craftsmanship. Rebushing and cleaning are interventions but are generally considered acceptable practices.

I always maintain that there should be Respect for Provenance, that is, preserving historical repairs, markings, documentation, and patina when they tell the clock’s story through the ages. In addition, using methods and materials appropriate to the clock’s era maintain authenticity.

Let’s look at some definitions.

Repair, Restoration, and Conservation Defined

  • Repair involves correcting faults or addressing prior poor repairs, often resulting in changes to a clock’s form or function. Repair in a museum context typically addresses specific problems to restore mechanical function or structural integrity while still respecting the clock’s historical value and authenticity.
  • Restoration seeks to return the clock to an “as new” condition, sometimes requiring reconstruction of parts of the movement or case. Restoration in a museum context involves returning an antique clock to a state that reflects its original appearance or function, often as close as possible to how it was when first made. 
  • Conservation focuses on preserving the clock in its current state while protecting it from further deterioration. This approach aims to maintain the clock as close to its original condition as possible for as long as possible. Conservation in this context prioritizes maintaining the clock’s historical authenticity and ensuring it can be studied and appreciated by future generations. This approach is guided by principles of reversibility, documentation, and respect for the original materials and craftsmanship. A reversible repair means future conservators can undo them if needed.

Some amount of intervention is often necessary and even desired by collectors, but how much is always a delicate balance.

A Case in Point: 1878 E. Ingraham Huron Clock

E Ingraham Hurons were made between 1878 and 1880

Take, for example, an 1878 E. Ingraham Huron time-and-strike balloon clock from my collection. The 16-inch high rosewood case is remarkably well-preserved for its 146 years, with no breaks, cracks, or missing pieces. The hands, pendulum bob, sash, and bezel hardware are all original, as is the movement. The case has been gently cleaned with soap and water and given a light coat of shellac for protection.

The clock face retains a layer of grime that contributes to its aged character, which I chose to leave untouched. However, the movement has suffered from less-than-professional repairs, likely due to the lack of skilled clockmakers in small-town Nova Scotia (Canada) during the clock’s early life. These repairs include soldered joints and realigned gears with pivot holes drilled directly into the plates—techniques probably applied in the 1940s, when soldering guns became more accessible.

Solder repair on an Ingraham Huron
Solder repair on the Huron movement

The clock ran for two or three days before stopping, and even nudging the pendulum provides only a temporary fix. On removing the movement from its case, the extent of these invasive repairs becomes more apparent. Even more apparent was the need for a full servicing.

Solder repair on the second wheel

Deciding on the Right Approach

After consulting a certified horologist, we discussed the options: repair, restore, or conserve? He shared an example of a customer’s kitchen clock (or “Gingerbread clock”), a common family heirloom. While these clocks are rarely of high monetary value, they often hold deep sentimental significance.

He typically repairs such clocks but occasionally replaces irreparable movements with period-correct ones—an option acceptable to many owners, but one that collectors generally frown upon and approach I did not care for.

In the case of my Huron, replacing the movement would significantly reduce its value as a collector’s item. Restoring the original movement, however, would maintain its authenticity and desirability. That is the route we took.

Guiding Questions for Intervention

When deciding how to proceed with any antique or vintage clock, I consider the following:

  • Does undoing damage from a previous poor repair qualify as overly invasive?
  • If the repair was performed soon after the clock was made and is historically documented (e.g., markings inside the case), should it remain untouched?
  • Does the poor repair add or subtract from the clock’s historical provenance, making it part of its story?
  • Would restoring the movement to its original state be considered a repair or a restoration?
  • Does removing all solder work qualify as a minimally invasive intervention?
  • Will the repair enhance or detract from the clock’s value?
  • Would leaving the clock unrestored qualify as conservation?

The poor repair needed to be addressed. I believe that correcting a subpar repair will always restore the clock’s functionality without diminishing its value. Since only minimal work was done on the case and nothing was done to the dial, I would classify this approach as a repair plus conservation.

The Collector’s Dilemma

Collectors often value clocks that remain as untouched as possible. A pristine, unaltered antique clock that runs is exceedingly rare. However, some intervention is inevitable if the goal is to preserve function, as long as it respects the clock’s historical and aesthetic integrity.

In my view, conservation and repair align most closely with minimal invasive intervention and restoration is inherently more intrusive. Deciding how far to go with a clock involves weighing its historical significance, its condition, and your goals as a collector or caretaker.

When I acquire a clock, the first question I ask is: what outcome am I aiming for based on the price I paid? For inexpensive mantel clocks, I’m willing to undertake extensive case repairs, recognizing that a clock purchased cheaply likely won’t gain significant value. However, for more desirable clocks, I adopt a more cautious approach, carefully determining the minimal work needed to restore functionality and enhance the case’s appearance.

I’d like to hear your views on this subject and how you approach this delicate balance!

Exploring a 30-hour Ogee clock from the Canada Clock Co. (Hamilton)

I recently had the opportunity to expand my collection with more Canadian-made clocks, including a 30-hour Ogee clock produced by the Canada Clock Co. at their Hamilton plant between 1880 and 1884.

Canadian clock companies have historically struggled to survive due to fierce competition from American manufacturers. Companies like Westclox in Peterborough survived largely due to their connections with U.S. parent companies, while smaller firms like Pequegnat persevered independently for as long as possible until the market and materials eventually declined.

Clockmaking in Whitby & Hamilton, Ontario

From 1872 to 1884, a group of Canadian clockmakers sought to compete with American companies by producing locally-made clocks designed for the Canadian market.

The Canada Clock Co. (Whitby, Ontario), the Hamilton Clock Co. (Hamilton, Ontario), and the Canada Clock Company (Hamilton, Ontario) faced significant challenges in the 19th century during a 12-year span as they sought to establish Canada’s presence in the clock-making industry.

The Canada Clock Co. was founded in Whitby, Ontario, in 1872, but its operations ceased after just four years, largely due to a catastrophic factory fire.

In 1876, key figures from the failed company, including manager John Collins, relocated to Hamilton to form the Hamilton Clock Co. Despite this renewed effort, the company folded after four years, halting production in 1880.

Later that year, another attempt was made to revive the industry with the creation of a new Canada Clock Co., reusing the old name and operating out of the former Hamilton Clock Co. factory. Unfortunately, success remained elusive, and the company declared bankruptcy in 1884, marking the end of a dozen turbulent years of clock production in the Canadian market.

Movements were made in Canada though they were essentially copies of American movements, most notably those manufactured by the Waterbury Clock Company. Case styles were also “borrowed” from Waterbury, Ansonia, and New Haven. Made in Canada, yes, original designs, no!

30-hour Ogee Clocks

Fortunately, many clocks from the three companies have survived to this day and occasionally they show up on online auction sites and other for-sale sites.

I have one other Ogee clock from this group of companies, one from the Hamilton Clock Company. It is exactly the same dimensions as a typical American Ogee of that time and mirrors the clock’s dimensions described in this article.

The brass movement of the Hamilton clock is a 30-hour time and strike and weight driven. Of particular interest is the use of an etched tablet that resembles a silk screen technique.

I have four other 30-hour Ogee clocks, two from Chauncey Jerome, a George H. Clark, and a Waterbury. All share the same dimensions as my two Canadian-made clocks.

Why were they so popular?

They were popular in the 19th century for a number of reasons. Most households did not need clocks with extended run times, and daily winding became a routine part of life, so the 30-hour duration was not seen as a disadvantage.

They were more affordable to produce and purchase, making them accessible to a broader audience. The weight-driven mechanism was simple, reliable, and required little maintenance. Unlike steel springs, which were expensive to manufacture in the early days, the weights were cheap to produce, further reducing costs.

Finally, the Ogee clock’s distinctive double-curved molding often made with exotic veneers was visually appealing and complemented the furniture styles of the period.

Canada Clock Company Ogee

My latest Ogee was made between 1880 and 1884 at the Canada Clock Co. factory in Hamilton, Ontario.

Auction photo

This clock has several intriguing features. First, it is the only one in my Ogee collection that includes an alarm function. Before the widespread availability of affordable alarm clocks or reliable pocket watches, many people relied on their household clock to wake them up in the morning. This was especially helpful in agrarian societies, where waking up early was essential for tending to livestock or starting farm work.

The brass dial sets the alarm

Second, the glass tablet showcases a unique cherub figure that differs from any designs I have encountered on similar clocks from the three companies. Unfortunately, the cherub has partially faded over time.

The grain is worn on the left side

Third, the clock features an imitation wood-grained finish that I have not encountered on other Ogee clocks. Genuine exotic or high-quality wood, such as mahogany or rosewood, was expensive. By using cheaper, locally available wood like pine or basswood and applying a faux wood grain finish, clockmakers could mimic the look of luxurious woods at a fraction of the cost.

Overall the imitation grain looks good

While most of the “grain” is still intact, some of it has worn away in the Ogee section on the right side. Although it requires cleaning, I must be careful to preserve the “grain.”

Fourth and final, it is one of the few Ogee clocks I have encountered that still has the dust blocks for the pulleys intact. There are two, one on each side located on the top of the case. These are frequently lost at some point in the clock’s life.

The label is mostly intact missing the bottom left-hand corner section. A clock’s label includes the name of the manufacturer. This helps identify where the clock was made and by whom, which is essential for authentication. This is particularly important when there is no maker’s stamp on the movement.

Servicing and Cleaning

This might turn into a winter project since I have several clocks waiting for servicing. However, I’d like to focus on the case first to preserve the faux grain. The plan is to give it a light cleaning and apply a coat or two of traditional shellac to help protect the finish.

I noticed that the hammer lever (strike-side) got stuck when I briefly ran the clock. It’s probably just a small adjustment, but I’ll need to disassemble the movement regardless. While I’m at it, I will also take care of any wear issues.

The Myth of Over-Winding: Clarifying a Common Misconception

In the fascinating world of horology, many terms and expressions are often misunderstood or misused. A classic example is the frequent confusion between the words “mantel” and “mantle” to describe certain types of clocks. While “mantel” refers to a shelf over a fireplace, “mantle” is something you wear, like a cloak.

Another pervasive myth is the notion of “over-winding” a clock. How many times have you heard, “It was running fine until I over-wound it”? This phrase is commonly found on clock forums, Facebook groups, and among enthusiasts. However, attributing clock malfunctions to over-winding is a misunderstanding of how clocks operate.

American time and strike clock movement

While it is technically possible for a mainspring to be damaged by excessive tightening—winding it until it’s tight and then continuing to wind it further—this is not the primary cause of most clock failures. The real issues often stem from different sources.

Consider the spring barrel, as shown in the photo below.

When the spring is wound, it coils tightly around the winding arbor, with the other end hooked to a small stud inside the barrel. This hook can become fatigued over time due to repeated excessive winding or the riveted stud can break free, but this is not the typical cause of a clock stopping.

In American open mainspring clocks, what appears to be “over-winding” is often a result of old oil, rust, and dirt accumulating in the mainspring coil. These contaminants can cause the coil to stick and seize somewhat like the action of an adhesive, making it “seem” as though the clock is “over-wound.”

This spring is re-useable

When I receive a clock that is said to be “overwound”, I use a let-down tool to release the mainspring partially or completely, apply mainspring oil generously, and then rewind the clock. This step will help in some cases, but it’s important to note that it doesn’t replace a thorough cleaning or address other potential issues that might be causing the clock to stop.

The letdown key
The letdown key

Disassembling the movement and removing the mainspring allows for a proper inspection. Dirt and old oil can be cleaned, light rust can be removed with emery paper or steel wool, and heavy rust necessitates the replacement of the mainspring. The spring should also be checked for cracks or breaks. Often, a mainspring in good condition can be salvaged with proper care even if there are minor problems with the connecting section of the spring.

I frequently reuse mainsprings in my clock repairs, as long as they are not “set.” A mainspring is considered “set” when it has developed permanent deformations or has lost its original flexibility and strength due to repeated use or overstressing. In such cases, reusing the mainspring compromises the clock’s reliability and shortens its operational cycle.

When a mainspring is “set,” I typically replace it to ensure the clock functions optimally and to avoid potential issues. If I were operating a clock repair business, I would replace the mainsprings as a standard practice and pass the cost onto the customer.

“C” clamps used to contain the power of the mainspring

Another potential issue is the click mechanism. In some clocks, such as those made by Sessions for example, the click rivets can become fatigued and fail. Inspecting and repairing/replacing this component is a common procedure in clock servicing.

Worn click on Sessions movement

When buying a new clock, do not assume it has been recently serviced unless the seller can confirm it. If there’s no assurance of recent servicing, plan to have the movement serviced as soon as possible either by yourself or a competent professional.

Regular maintenance is crucial for any mechanical clock to ensure its longevity and proper function.

“Over-winding” is a myth that often misguides clock enthusiasts. The real causes of clock issues are typically related to dirt, old oil, or mechanical wear, not the act of winding the clock. Understanding this can help in better troubleshooting and maintaining your cherished antique or vintage clock.

How to Service an Open Mainspring Without a Spring Winder – Step-by-Step Guide

In a previous article on servicing this clock, I mentioned the challenge I faced with the mainspring. With only minimal tools at my disposal and no spring winder, I was determined to find a solution and successfully service the mainspring.

This clock was manufactured by New Haven and boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style.

The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.

Given the condition of the case, I anticipated that the movement would be just as well-worn. It was in better condition than I thought.

New Haven 8-day time-only movement

Let me point out that the servicing is being done under less-than-ideal conditions. I am at our summer cottage with only the basic tools for clock repair, so I must either improvise or skip certain procedures.

No spring winder | no problem

The movement had already been restrained with a heavy copper wire.

A heavy copper wire contains the mainspring

First, partially reassemble the movement with only the main wheel and second wheels. Reattach the front plate and secure the movement with the 4 pillar nuts.

Attaching the second wheel allows the main wheel to be stabilized while the spring is wound using the ratchet.

Safety first

I strongly recommend wearing leather work gloves and eye protection. Handling mainsprings under tension can be hazardous, so prioritizing safety is crucial. Precautions are essential to protect yourself from potential injuries.

Next steps

The key is to hold onto the second wheel while winding the clock. Once fully wound the copper restraining wire can be removed. In the photo below the screwdriver is arresting the wheel while I take the photo.

Then, using a letdown tool, release the click by popping out the click spring from the rachet and allowing the mainspring to unwind. The main wheel with the relaxed spring can now be safely removed from the movement.

The letdown tool is on the right

Servicing involves carefully removing the main wheel from the spring, manually inspecting and cleaning the spring, re-oiling it, and reconnecting it with the main wheel.

The mainspring is removed from the main wheel for cleaning

Reassembly

After cleaning the main wheel and the spring, simply reverse the procedure. Reattach the click spring, join the main wheel and the mainspring, place them back in the movement along with the second wheel, wind the spring, and secure it again with the copper restraining wire. Once this is done, you can continue to reassemble the movement.

May not be suitable for all applications

This approach allows the main wheel to be cleaned in the ultrasonic cleaner along with all the other movement parts.

While this method may not be suitable for all open mainspring designs, it might be the solution for you.

Servicing a mainspring without a spring winder isn’t ideal, it can still be done safely and effectively.

Servicing this movement is reminiscent of days gone by when Dad (or Mom) would gather tools from the shed to fix the family clock. The repair might not have been perfect, but the goal was always to keep the clock running reliably until the next time it needed attention.

Challenges of DIY Antique Clock Repair with Minimal Tools | Lessons and Limitations

My collection of wall clocks includes several schoolhouse models and I am continually impressed by their resilience despite their age.

While many of these clocks spent their lives in school rooms, some ended up in commercial establishments and offices, often neglected until they stopped working. I’ve seen clocks with bushing holes so enlarged it’s a miracle they still ran at all.

This particular clock, manufactured by New Haven, boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style.

The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.

Given the condition of the case, I anticipated that the movement would be just as well-worn.

Let me point out that the servicing is being done under less-than-ideal conditions. I am at our summer cottage with only the basic tools for clock repair, so I must either improvise or skip certain procedures.

Removing the movement

After removing the hour and minute hands, you will find that three screws hold the dial in place. Once these screws are removed, the next step is to take out two movement blocks that secure the movement. This is done by unscrewing the blocks (each held by two wood screws) and then pulling out the movement. Once out the blocks can be removed.

The movement is held by movement blocks

Disassembly and inspection

The first step is to contain the power of the mainspring. Since I did not have access to my standard equipment, I had to improvise. I would normally use a C-clamp to restrain the mainspring, but with none available, I used a stiff piece of copper wire and wrapped it around the mainspring. Not ideal but it works.

Safely restrained mainspring

The movement is in surprisingly good condition.

The top (front) plate is removed

Once the wheels are out it is time to visually inspect the components including the gear teeth, pivots, escape wheel pallets, the condition of the manispring, and lantern pinions.

The parts are laid out for inspection

Before placing the parts into the ultrasonic cleaner, I clean the pivot holes with toothpicks and wipe off any excess dirt and oil. Since I plan to reuse the ultrasonic cleaner several times, putting excessively dirty parts into the cleaning solution can shorten its lifespan.

Opinions vary on whether mainsprings should be cleaned in an ultrasonic cleaner. I believe it’s a matter of judgment. If I am not planning to reuse the cleaning solution (mainspring oil can render the solution unusable) and can thoroughly dry the springs, I have had good results by placing them in the ultrasonic cleaner.

In this situation, I have opted not to clean the mainspring in a solution.

Next is the reassembly of the movement leaving out the main wheel and mainspring. Without tension on the wheels, this is a simple way of determining wear.

Wheels that move laterally suggest enlarged pivot holes. Lateral movement affects the meshing of the gears and with enough wear the gears do not mesh properly and the clock will stop.

Checking for lateral movement

In this movement, the third-wheel front plate shows the most wear. However, it is not worn enough to require a new bushing at this time. If I were in the clock repair business and this was a customer’s clock, I would definitely address the need for a new bushing. This is compounded by the fact that I do not have bushing tools with me.

The pivots exhibit no significant wear, as confirmed by the fingernail test, which revealed no ridges. If you feel any ridges, grooves, or irregularities, it indicates wear on the pivot. A smooth pivot suggests minimal or no wear. Although I had to use a portable power drill for cleaning/polishing, the cleaning process was satisfactory despite it not being the ideal method.

My main challenge is the mainspring. I’m currently working with minimal tools and would like to service the mainspring, but I don’t have a spring winder.

Mainspring and first wheel

I am determined to service the mainspring and will find a solution within the next day or so, reporting on the procedures as I go. In the meantime, this is as far as I can proceed with this movement.

New Haven schoolhouse clock | The case is in poor condition but what about the movement?

Accepting the schoolhouse clock as a restoration project, I was prepared for the inevitable wear and tear it had endured over time. Despite its condition, I wondered what it would look like if the case was rejuvenated.

Decisions, decisions.

My collection of wall clocks includes several schoolhouse models and I am continually impressed by their resilience despite their age.

These clocks, renowned for their durability, keep time reliably, even in well-worn condition.

While many of these clocks spent their lives in school rooms, some ended up in commercial establishments and offices, often neglected until they stopped working. I’ve seen clocks with bushing holes so enlarged it’s a wonder they still ran.

This particular clock, manufactured by New Haven, boasts a classic design with a twelve-inch Roman Numeral dial and a distinctive short drop style. Its standout feature is the reverse painted glass on the access door, allowing the decorative pendulum bob to be seen in motion.

The softwood case is veneered in Rosewood veneer accents. The clock’s case must have been quite elegant at one time, but now it is showing much wear and tear.

Is it even worth fixing? However, let’s look at the movement.

The movement

I am impressed by the size and construction of the movement. The plate measures 5 inches tall and 3 inches wide, but it extends to 5 1/2 inches wide when including the main wheel and the third wheel. It is one of the larger time-only movements I have seen in an antique clock. Two wood blocks secure the movement to the case.

Movement in the case

It has been challenging to determine the date of manufacture of the movement, even though the trademark design should provide some clues. Despite searching through antique clock forums, the best match I found was an identical movement in a Cambria wall clock, which had no trademark but featured pins instead of nuts to hold the plates together.

Cambria wall clock

According to this site New Haven began using this trademark style in 1890.

New Haven trademark, 9 3/4 refers to the pendulum length

Although it looks clean, my plan is to take it apart and assess what needs to be done. Join me in my next article as I guide you through servicing the movement.

A Collection of Antique Clocks at Our Summer Refuge

My collection of clocks is divided between my home in Nova Scotia and our cottage in Central Canada. Part of my collection is there because I am not the type of person who abandons a hobby; I make it a part of my everyday life.

Although not an even split, about 15% of the collection is at our summer cottage in central Canada. The clocks at the cottage, though not particularly special, add a charming ambiance to the space. They often serve as great conversation starters when guests are over, contributing to the cozy and inviting atmosphere.

Let’s begin in the sunroom, the focal centre of our cottage. In this room are two German box clocks, a Mauthe and a Kienzle, which has been a recent acquisition. Joining the two box clocks is a 30-hour Ansonia cottage clock.

Mauthe time and strike box clock (the wall to the left is under construction)
Kienzle time and strike box clock

Check out this recently posted article for more information on the Kienzle clock.

Ansonia 30-hour cottage clock

Inside the main part of the cottage which comprises the kitchen, dining, and living area are 3 clocks, a Hemle time and strike weight-driven wall clock, passed on by my wife’s uncle, known as a wag-on-a-wall clock, an Empire time-only gallery-style clock from England, and a 30-hour New Haven miniature ogee.

Hermle wag-on-a-wall clock
Empire time-only gallery clock

This New Haven clock might look good from a distance, but closer inspection reveals that the front veneer has been stripped, likely due to significant loss or damage. This condition is not common with old veneered cases but unfortunately, it is what it is.

New Haven mini ogee clock

In our bedroom is one clock, and one clock only, and it is placed there for a reason. It is a time-only GIlbert gallery clock. Gallery clocks, in other parts of the world, may be known pub-clocks, canteen clocks, or office clocks.

Gilbert gallery clock

This time-only gallery-style clock made by the Gilbert Company of USA is nondescript and quite ordinary looking. There is nothing special or distinctive about it but it is in excellent condition.

Check out this article on how having a clock in the bedroom can aid in getting a restful night’s sleep. The article describes how providing a gentle reminder of the time helps regulate your sleep patterns and creates a more restful environment.

So, there you have it—time flies at my summer cottage with these clocks. They may not be particularly special, but they surely tick all the boxes to enhance my summer experience!

Tick Talk Tuesday #53 – A stolen Ansonia wall clock

Tick-Talk Tuesday is a special time when I respond to readers’ letters and comments about clock issues, challenges, and recommendations for specific clocks. When the comments and questions are especially complex, I consult with fellow clock enthusiasts within my circle to ensure I offer the most precise and helpful answers possible.

LS writes:

I ran across your web page searching for a particular clock and I’m hoping you might have the connections of which I don’t… in order to help me locate one.

The clock I’m looking to replace a clock that belonged to my parents and was stolen along with a lot of other treasures. It’s an Ansonia “Reminiscence” Model #647. Heavy solid oak, beveled glass with Westminster chimes/key.

If you happen to have one in a private collection you’d be willing to part with, OR if you have any clue where I might be able to locate one… I’d be forever grateful for your assistance.

Thank you so much, and with warmest regards.

My response:

Thank you for your email LS. Would you happen to have a photo of the clock? What style of clock are you referring to, shelf, wall, mantel, or tall case?

LS write back:
This was a wall clock, which I amazingly… still have all of the original paperwork on, that came with the clock when my moms mother, my grandmother, bought it for them back in 1989. (four pictures enclosed). The clock catalog I have displays 26 of their clocks produced from 1986-1989. I also included a neat little story that came with the packet, and some directions my mother transcribed, which were undoubtedly given by my father. This clock HAD to be taken care of just right; as nothing else would ever, EVER do! Just shows how attached they were to this clock.


Photo of Ansonia wall clock
Ansonia clock not made in the USA

My father was stationed at Hickam Field when the attack on Pearl Harbour happened. He was an instrument shop manager in the United States Air Corps. He also spent a good portion of his life in clock and watch repair, including working for a couple of local shops in the St Louis metro area after the war, and discharge. Until the day he died he still had many of the original springs, gears, tools, oil, eye magnifier pieces, etc… stored lovingly in a very nice, old humidor box that he custom built four removable shelves for… so as you can likely assume… this clock, was his “baby.” (I still have that humidor box and several of the pieces from it).
I am just heartsick that it was stolen, and when my mother was still alive (she passed in 2012, and dad in 1997), if I didn’t know any better… I might assume that this could’ve been part of what led to her ultimate demise. Truly, it hit extremely hard! Especially since her mother was also gone by that time.

I appreciate any help you can offer in trying to find a replacement for myself and MY family today. It would mean the world to me if I could happen across one. Even though not the original, don’t we all just need a little bit of comfort in our world today, and the warm memories that can sometimes be solely responsible for bringing that comfort? I certainly have all of the care instructions at my disposal! 😉

I’ve about exhausted all avenues in my search for this elusive clock, and unfortunately… Ansonia closed up shop in 2006; ironically, the same year my parent’s clock was taken.

My reply:

Hi, and thanks for the additional information.

Ansonia was a well-known maker of American clocks. The original company, which operated in Connecticut and New York ended operations in 1929.

The trademark was then sold off, more than once, I believe. In 1969 the Nofziger family of Lynnwood, Washington, re-registered the Ansonia trademark and issued clocks with the Ansonia name.

When the Ansonia Clock Co. was “making” clocks in Washington the company was a mere shadow of its former glory.

I say “making” because the company was likely assembling clocks sourced from West Germany with cases also sourced abroad. So, they were either importing the clocks fully assembled or in pieces to be assembled. Since they owned the Ansonia trademark, they simply added it to the dial face. So, not a made-in-America clock.

However, you probably know all this. It is the sentimental value that is most important, and finding the same clock or one similar is your present quest.

While I come across many Ansonia clocks, I have never come across one from the re-registered company. A search of eBay will bring up dozens of New York-made clocks but few if any of ones similar to yours. You will just have to keep looking. However, if one comes up I will certainly let you know.

An ordinary schoolhouse clock that had an ordinary life in an ordinary shoolhouse continues its ordinary life

Eight years ago I came across an intriguing find not far from where I reside—an antique Ansonia octagonal short drop, commonly referred to as a schoolhouse clock. While I estimate its manufacturing date to be around the turn of the 20th century, pinpointing the exact year eluded me.

Ansonia time only schoolhouse clock
Ansonia Schoolhouse Clock

The movement bears the stamped number “12,” which could denote the year “1912” or possibly the month of a particular year. Additionally, the letters “TT” are inscribed on the movement. 1912 would sound just about right.

Although not my only Ansonia clock I encounter the Ansonia name less frequently compared to other American clock manufacturers.

Ansonia clock face showing the name of the maker
Ansonia Clock Co., Made in the U.S.A.

To retreive the clock, my wife and I travelled to the small town of Berwick, nestled in the Annapolis Valley region of Nova Scotia. Berwick is best known as the centre of the province’s apple industry. We set out for a day trip eager to soak in the local scenery and make various stops at roadside stands/gardens along the way, fully aware that the clock we were about to acquire would come with no surprises. Well, it was not perfect!

The gentleman from whom I purchased the clock shared that it had been in his family for over 50 years, yet he had never seen it run. He parted with it during the estate liquidation process following his mother’s passing, as it held sentimental value for her but evidently not for him.

Number 12 and TT on the movement plate
The number 12 and TT stamped on the movement

It originated from a schoolhouse in Ontario, Canada, although the specific location eluded the seller. Despite minor issues, such as paint applied around the minute/hour pipe to conceal stains from years of handling, the softwood case remains in very good condition.

However, it was missing a bushing for the hour hand, an easy fix. Remarkably, I discovered remnants of rotted elastic banding on the pendulum rod just below the suspension spring, though its purpose remains a mystery to me.

Nevertheless, following several adjustments, including bending the crutch to ensure proper alignment, the clock functioned but a servicing was necessary. I found the need for 3 new bushings in the spring-driven time-only movement. While the wear wasn’t severe, it warranted attention. A new hour and minute hand, sourced from a supplier completed the servicing.

bushing wear on an Ansonia movement
The most worn bushing hole, highlighted to illustrate the wear

The Ansonia Clock Company’s storied history adds an intriguing layer to this find. Unfortunately, the company, formed in 1851, had a long history of supplying clocks to the masses but its demise prior to the 1929 stock market crash serves as a poignant reminder of shifting economic tides.

The clock is now gone but to a good home. Approximately three years ago, when my daughter was setting up an office in her new home, she expressed interest in acquiring the clock, which she considered the perfect decoration for her new workspace. “Certainly,” I replied, and now it proudly occupies a prominent spot in her office.

The homeliest clock in my collection is also one of my favorites

My collection boasts more than 90 clocks, with 51 on display throughout my home, 6 at our summer cottage, and 19 running non-stop. The majority of my 90 clocks are operational, although I periodically switch out some of them to maintain the 19 that run continuously.

One clock remains in its place in an upper hallway. One might assume that the clock is the priciest, rarest, most intricately designed, or possesses highly unique features. However, it’s quite the opposite—it is very plain, unremarkable in appearance, and a clock that some would consider unworthy of repair. Opinions may differ but I leave it up to you, the reader.

It is a circa 1895 Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock made by the Ansonia Brass and Copper Co. but is missing two essential features, the brass bezel for the clock dial and the lower access door (more on the door later). Otherwise, the clock came with most of its parts.

This clock has seemingly journeyed through life with its smile turned upside down. It’s a genuine barn discovery, and one can only speculate about the years it had spent scattered in pieces gathering dust and rust without knowing that it would be resurrected one day.

Ansonia Extra short drop wall clock on a bench in pieces
I brought the clock home wondering what to do

After bringing the clock home, I found myself considering its future. At first, I debated whether to salvage the movement, the veneer, the finials, or the frame, or simply discard the clock altogether since its cost was negligible.

Then it dawned on me that despite missing some components, the clock could be revived. The idea of the clock languishing unused and neglected evoked feelings of sympathy, which I admit is a strange feeling for an inanimate object. In our throw-away world today perhaps the value in reviving and cherishing something that had been forgotten or overlooked, restoring its purpose and significance, led me to appreciate it even more.

Eight years ago, I was enthusiastic and eager to acquire clocks to work on them, and given my beginner status in movement servicing and case repair, I entertained the idea of using it as a learning platform for restoration. Repairing a broken clock always provides a valuable learning experience, allowing one to develop new skills in mechanics, craftsmanship, and problem-solving, which can be applied to future projects.

Let’s go through the steps I followed for this project.

The Movement

The time-only movement was encrusted with rust, presenting a significant challenge to restore it to working order. I spent considerable time scrubbing, cleaning, and meticulously sanding away the rust from the pivots and other steel parts.

The time only movement of an Ansonia wall clock
The movement was seized and coated in rust

While I initially considered replacing a severely rusted mainspring, upon closer inspection, I realized that much of the rust was superficial, leading me to reconsider the need for replacement.

Ansonia time-only movement on a test stand
On the test stand

Eventually, my efforts paid off, and I succeeded in getting the movement to run smoothly once again.

The case

Next, attention turned to the case. While a significant portion of the original label remained intact on the backboard, a section had broken off and was lost forever.

Ansonia backboard with partial label and a piece of backboard glued to an original piece of backboard
Ansonia backboard with partial label and glued piece

To remedy this, I found a suitable backboard piece from an old ogee clock cut a piece to fit, and glued it in place. The backboard is attached to the clock case in the photo below.

The clock came with no drop door
The clock came without an access door

The case was also missing its access door, and rather than leaving the clock without one, I built a door frame using pieces of softwood. I then applied salvaged veneer from another project, gluing it onto the frame. Shaping old veneer over doweling is a challenging task, but I did my utmost to accomplish it as well as I could.

Veneer glued to the softwood frame and Knob and hinges ready to be attached
Not a perfect veneer job but good practice nonetheless

The rest of the case repair involved bringing the pieces together with glue and then applying traditional shellac to enhance the intricate, fine-grained characteristics of the rosewood veneer. To complete the project the dial required some paint touchups and suitable hands were sourced from a clock parts supplier.

Ansonia Drop Extra wall clock hanging on a wall
Ansonia Extra Drop wall clock

While not the most aesthetically pleasing clock by any measure, it symbolizes the trials of restoring a seemingly hopeless clock, transforming it into a functional piece that serves its purpose reliably every day.

However, its greatest achievement lies in offering me a valuable learning platform that I can apply to future projects. Every time I pass by the clock It reminds me not only of the work I put into the clock but moreover, that not all is lost and that certain things are indeed worth preserving.

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