This is a cautionary tale for anyone who owns a long-case or tall-case clock, especially a weight-driven example. I make that distinction because I do own a tall-case clock that is spring-driven, which I can assure you is quite unusual. Most, however, are weight-driven.
The other day, I went to investigate an issue with the strike side of an old Scottish clock assembled by a clockmaker named William McLaughlin in Scotland in the late 1840s. I purchased the clock at auction six years ago and spent many hours repairing the movement and restoring the case.
At the time, the clock was running—but just barely. The time side was functioning well, but the strike side needed some work and the addition of new parts to operate correctly. Since then, the clock has been running continuously and reliably for the past six years.
Recently, the strike side began to show a slight problem, which prompted me to remove the hood and carry out a closer inspection. The issue turned out to be that the rack was dropping too far back and was no longer being picked up properly by the gathering pallet. This situation seems to occur when I wind up the strike side weight too quickly, but something else might be amiss.
While investigating that area, I noticed something far more concerning: the strike-side barrel cable was badly frayed. The cable is made up of three groupings of strands, with each grouping consisting of about six wires. In this case, two of those groupings had snapped off completely. That left only one grouping intact—and even that was reduced to perhaps three or four remaining brass wires supporting the cable.
All of this was holding a 13-pound weight. I have enlarged the photo above to better illustrate the problem.
The proper solution is to repair or replace the cable. As a temporary measure, the existing cable may be reused, provided it is still in sound condition. This involves removing the movement from the case, separating the plates, and opening the strike-side drum. The cable can then be fed back into the barrel and secured with a knot on the inside. Although this shortens the cable by an inch or two, it should have no meaningful impact on the clock’s running time.
Since I will have the movement apart, it will be an opportunity to clean the movement, address any wear, and re-oil the mechanism. I checked the time-side drum to determine if there is a similar issue with the cable, and to my surprise, found it to be just fine.
The takeaway here is a simple but important one: weight cables on long-case clocks deserve regular inspection, especially on clocks that run continuously year after year. Fraying often happens slowly and out of sight, and failure can be sudden and dramatic—with potentially serious damage to the movement, the case, or anything beneath the falling weight. In the case of this clock, there is nothing to cushion the blow if the weight were to drop. A loud bang would accompany a dented hardwood floor.
A few moments spent checking cables when servicing or inspecting a clock can prevent a great deal of trouble later on. In this case, I was fortunate to catch the problem before gravity finished the job.
Ten years ago, I attended a staff development conference workshop on WordPress. The instructor promised that by the end of the three-hour session, we would each have a live blog up and running. Wow, now that’s impressive, I thought! I was intrigued and started thinking about a theme. Since I was already repairing and restoring antique and vintage clocks at the time, a blog focused on clocks seemed like the perfect way to document my experiences.
After ten years and many blog posts, it has been quite an achievement.
My very first antique clock, a Seth Thomas, which I still have today
Early Days: Learning and Growing
Looking back, my first posts profiled the clocks I had recently acquired. My writing skills weren’t the strongest back then, and looking back, I’m a little embarrassed that I published some of those early articles. I had low expectations then and was content to allow the blog to be a platform where I could improve my writing skills. But things gradually changed.
My first post featured work I had done on a German-made Dugena clock movement.
One of the challenges early on was figuring out whether I had the desire to keep writing and whether I could maintain a regular publishing schedule. Initially, I was bubbling with enthusiasm and felt I could publish every two or three days, but that pace was too much for me, and I quickly ran out of ideas. In those early years, I observed numerous blogs gradually fade away as their authors lost the motivation to continue. I often wondered: What is the secret to maintaining a consistent writing rhythm?
Since I was not an expert, I decided to focus on beginners like myself and began documenting the challenges I faced while repairing old clocks. I hoped that by sharing my learning experiences, I would inspire others who were just starting out.
Once I identified my audience, I began sharing my experiences with buying and selling clocks, repairing movements, restoring cases, and exploring their history. Along the way, I developed a deep appreciation for the clockmakers and the companies behind these old clocks.
How My Writing Style Evolved
In the early days, I wrote more like I was jotting down notes for myself. My tone was too casual, sometimes rambling, and I often skipped over important context, assuming readers knew what I meant. Over time, I became more intentional, structuring my posts clearly, guiding the reader, and choosing words more carefully.
I learned how to strike a balance between technical detail and storytelling, especially when describing a clock repair or sharing a bit of horological history. I was always mindful of not getting too technical, worried it might alienate some readers. Striking the right balance became really important. Now, my writing feels more like a conversation with fellow enthusiasts rather than just a personal journal.
Surprising Discoveries About My Audience
Over the years, I’ve learned just how important it is to know your audience, and I’ve often been surprised by who finds my blog. While I originally wrote for beginner clock enthusiasts like myself, I soon discovered that experienced collectors, casual readers, and even people simply curious about a family heirloom were stopping by. That realization encouraged me to keep things accessible and welcoming.
Embracing Imperfection and Meaningful Engagement
I also learned not to chase perfection. Some of the posts I was most hesitant to publish — the ones with rough edges or unresolved repairs — ended up resonating the most. They reminded readers (and me) that learning is a process and that nothing is easy.
As the blog grew, I began to care less about traffic stats and more about the comments, emails, and conversations sparked by a single post. That engagement, more than pageviews, has been the most rewarding part. And while I started with a narrow focus on clock repair, I found room to explore company histories, flea market finds, museum visits, and even the personal stories behind specific clocks. It turns out that having a niche doesn’t mean being limited — it just means you’ve got a solid foundation to build on.
Unexpected Skills I Learned Along the Way
One of the unexpected parts of blogging was the variety of technical and behind-the-scenes skills I had to pick up along the way. It was not easy. At first, I thought writing would be the main challenge, but I quickly realized that running a blog involves much more. I had to learn the basics of WordPress — formatting posts, block formatting, managing plugins, updating themes, and troubleshooting when something broke.
This clock from the 1920s, a Sessions, was my first repair success
I became familiar with SEO (even if reluctantly), learning how to write headlines and meta descriptions that search engines — and humans — would notice. I also improved my photography skills, especially when trying to capture the fine details of clock cases or movements. Editing images, managing file sizes, and even creating graphics for posts became part of the routine. I even tried using AI-generated images but learned quickly that not everyone appreciates seeing them on a blog, so I’ll use them more sparingly in the future.
And of course, there’s the subtle art of proofreading, learning to catch my own typos after staring at the same paragraph for too long. Some of those errors managed to slip through despite my best efforts.
None of these were part of the plan at the start, but over time, they became tools in the toolkit of a self-taught blogger.
My second post featured a schoolhouse clock made by Arthur Pequegnat, an early Canadian Clock Company.
If there’s one piece of encouragement I’d offer to anyone starting out, it’s this: your voice matters, even if your audience is small. In the beginning, it’s easy to feel like you’re writing into the void — a few pageviews here, maybe one comment there. But over a period of time, I came to realize that even a single post can make a difference to someone. Whether it’s helping a beginner get their first clock running or sparking a memory in someone who inherited their grandfather’s old clock, your words can reach further than you think.
The value of blogging isn’t just in how many people read it, but in the connections it creates. A niche blog may not have thousands of followers, but it can still be a trusted voice, a resource, or a source of encouragement for others.
Don’t wait until you have a big audience to write like you matter — because you already do.
Advice to New Bloggers: Keep Going
Starting a blog can feel exciting but also extremely frustrating, especially when the pageviews are low and the feedback is sparse. My advice to new bloggers is simple but powerful: don’t give up, and stay the course. Growth rarely happens overnight. It takes time to build an audience, find your voice, and develop content that truly resonates. There will be moments when you wonder if anyone is reading at all — and that’s completely normal.
Instead of focusing solely on numbers, try to enjoy the process of writing, learning, and connecting with even just a few readers. Every post is a step forward, a chance to improve, and a way to build your unique corner of the internet. Publish regularly, stay curious, and remember why you started. Persistence often pays off in ways you don’t immediately see, and the small, steady efforts add up to something meaningful over time.
My third post described the progress I was making on a newly acquired clock.
What does the future hold? I hope my blog will evolve into a go-to online resource for collectors, historians, and restoration hobbyists interested in American and Canadian horology. Over time, I may see more interaction, not just passive readers, but active contributors. People might begin submitting their own clock stories, restoration challenges, or photos for feedback. With that, the blog could grow into more of a community hub.
I already have the makings of a self-published book — a “Best of Tick Talk Tuesday,” a guide to identifying Canadian clocks, or a memoir-style chronicle of my collecting journey. It wouldn’t be difficult to compile some of my best posts and insights into something tangible and lasting.
Lastly, I would like to develop the backbone of my blog—the wheels and gears that make it work—by increasing visibility through plugins and SEO, optimizing site performance, and ensuring a seamless user experience for my readers. Although there’s a confusing array of information on YouTube and websites dedicated to optimization, I know the journey won’t be easy.
Thank You to My Readers
Finally, I want to extend a sincere thank you to everyone who has followed my blog over the years—especially those who have been with me from the very beginning—and to the 750 email subscribers who receive notifications whenever a new article is published. Your support, comments, and encouragement have made this journey so rewarding.
A recent acquisition, an Arthur Pequegant parlour clock
Whether you’re a longtime reader or someone who just discovered the blog, I’m grateful that you’ve taken the time to share in my passion for clocks and storytelling. This blog wouldn’t be what it is without you, and I look forward to continuing to explore, learn, and share together for many years to come.
My sister, who’s just a couple of years younger and was once an avid collector of antiques, recently shared something that’s been weighing on my mind. She told me that she’s stopped collecting, something I never thought I’d hear from her. “There’s no one to leave them to, no one who will appreciate them,” she said. “I have this beautiful sterling silver collection, and my son will probably just melt it down and sell it for cash when I’m gone.” Her words stung. I tried to tell her that was harsh, but she insisted that’s how it would end.
If I were younger!
I have started to feel the same. It seems the current generation is far less interested in preserving the past, in keeping these old treasures with all their stories. My own children, although they have each chosen a few cherished clocks from my collection, the rest will go up for auction someday, sold for whatever they can get. It’s a sobering thought, one I try not to dwell on too often.
Adjusting a tall-case clock
In a world where minimalism and rapid change have become ideals, I worry that the beauty and history in antiques are slipping away, lost in the rush to move forward. Each clock I have collected has a story—a legacy of skill and craftsmanship, resilience, and time. I hope that someday, someone will see beyond the dust and patina and recognize the true value these pieces hold. Yet I wonder: how do we make these treasures matter in a world that so easily leaves the past behind?
Maybe it starts with us, sharing stories and teaching others to see these old clocks not as relics but as links to history and memory. Each clock was built with care, by hands that once held a passion for the craft. Each tick and strike is a heartbeat, connecting us to moments long gone.
Maybe, if we bring people close enough to touch and hear these old clocks, we can pass on a little of that wonder. Letting someone hear the rich strike of an old clock, or watching gears move gracefully in time—these small moments can stir something deep, something lasting.
My daughter has her name on this clock
Documenting their stories, through photos and words as I attempt to do with my blog, is my r way of carrying these legacies forward, preserving the memory in a form that lasts longer than I will.
And for those who may stumble upon these stories years from now, I hope they’ll feel that spark of connection. Reaching out to online communities, historical societies, or even local museums could help, too. By blending history with storytelling and technology, maybe we can find a way to preserve this beauty and bring it to life for future generations.
Every November, as we observe Remembrance Day in Canada, we pause to honor those who served in The Great War, World War II, and other conflicts, recognizing their courage and the deep sacrifices made.
This tradition invites us to look back with reverence, keeping memories of lives and histories that have shaped our world close to our hearts. It’s a time of reflection on resilience, respect, and the ways we choose to remember.
Collecting and preserving antique clocks, in its own quiet way, also connects us to the past. Each clock is more than marks the time; it’s a carefully crafted piece of history, often bearing the marks of a life well-lived. Worn dials, faded labels, and small repairs tell stories of the hands they have passed through and the moments they have witnessed.
In restoring and maintaining these old clocks, we preserve parts of a legacy that will otherwise slip away, keeping alive the artistry and dedication of the craftsmen who built them.
My grandfather
Remembrance Day invites us to hold onto the legacy of those who served, and reflecting on their sacrifice is a way to respect and sustain the past.
Through these traditions, we carry forward fragments of history, honouring the enduring impact of lives and stories long gone but not forgotten.
Some time ago, I discussed clock repair in the old days with a horologist acquaintance who completed work on my 138-year-old E. Ingraham Huron mantel clock in my collection. He had just spoken with an 82-year-old friend who spent most of his life in clock repair, reminiscing about how different things were “back in the day.”
I wondered what he meant by “different.” Were things genuinely better in clock repair back then? Let’s take a step back in time.
E Ingraham Huron
Imagine a typical Canadian home in the 1920s or 1930s. In those days, a clock was more than just a decorative piece; it was a vital appliance—just like a refrigerator or washing machine.
For most households, clocks were bought for one simple purpose: to tell time. Often, it was the only timekeeping device in the home, especially for working-class families. And although mechanical clocks were not the most accurate, people did not expect them to be precise to the second. As long as the clock was within a minute or two each week, it was more than up to the task.
These clocks were inexpensive, functional, and built to withstand some wear and tear. My own Arthur Pequegnat “Fan Top” kitchen clock, for instance, was sold for $5 when new in 1912—a significant investment when the average worker earned around $12.75 weekly.
Arthur Pequegnat Maple Leaf “Fan Top” kitchen clock
Despite the cost, having a clock in the home was essential for various reasons. When a clock inevitably stopped, it needed a quick and affordable repair, often done by a local tinkerer rather than a professional. This could be a tradesperson like a mechanic or handyman. In rural areas like Nova Scotia, Canada, trained horologists were rare, and even when available, their services could be prohibitively expensive.
The local “tinkerers” kept neighbors’ clocks running, relying on basic tools found around the house: a hammer, pliers, a punch, a file, and a screwdriver. In those days specialized tools for clock repair were expensive and hard to come by and only a jeweler could afford such luxury. Tinkerers often used improvised methods; for instance, they might close a worn pivot hole with a punch or, by the 1940s, use a soldering gun to attach a brass piece, creating a new pivot hole when needed.
Solder repair and re-located pivot hole on an American movement
Cleaning solutions were equally unrefined—soaking movements overnight in gasoline, then oiling them with household oils like motor oil. Reflecting on the cleaning methods of those early tinkerers, the use of gasoline and other flammable solvents to clean clock movements stands out not only for its crudeness but for the inherent danger it posed.
Gasoline was relatively inexpensive and readily available, which made it an attractive option for a low-cost, no-frills clock cleaner. However, using such a volatile substance to clean intricate brass and steel components was not without significant risk.
The workspace for these repairs was often an unheated shed, garage, or basement without proper ventilation, increasing the risk. In these confined spaces, the fumes would linger, building up to dangerous levels. One careless move, and the result could be disastrous, not only for the tinkerer but for anyone in proximity.
The Quick Fix
“Quick fixes” were typically short-term and would eventually lead to further repairs. Still, the customer was satisfied if their clock came back ticking, and they paid only a nominal fee for the service.
These short-term fixes often involved unconventional methods. For instance, rather than replacing worn bushings—small bearings that support moving parts—a tinkerer might use a punch to “close” a pivot hole by pushing the metal back into place. This would hold the pivot for a while, but it also introduced more wear, which would lead to increasingly frequent repairs as the pivot wore down the surrounding material. Other techniques included using adhesives, shims, or rudimentary re-soldering to hold parts together temporarily.
For lubrication, household oils like 3-in-1 were a staple, though they were not formulated for delicate clock movements. These oils would initially help gears move smoothly, but over time, they could become sticky, causing grime to build up and eventually slowing the movement once again. Each time a clock came back for a fix, the tinkerer would apply another short-term solution, usually at little or no cost to the customer, who was primarily concerned with keeping the clock functional.
The cumulative effect of these fixes meant that many clocks would eventually suffer irreversible wear. The gears and pivots would lose their integrity, requiring a complete overhaul if they were to be restored to original condition.
However, it’s worth mentioning that these clocks were not seen as heirlooms or prized possessions; they were utilitarian items. For customers, the reliability and exact timekeeping ability of the clock was not as important as affordability and functionality—if it ticked, it was good enough.
The Emergence of the Electric Clock
In the 1930s, synchronous electric clocks began to replace mechanical ones in homes with electricity. However, in many rural areas, families continued relying on their mechanical clocks, repairing them as needed until electric clocks eventually phased them out.
While many of those old clocks were abandoned, some became cherished family keepsakes passed down through generations.
Today, antique clocks hold a different status; we value their craftsmanship and history. When they need repairs, we use all manner of specialized modern tools—bushing machines, broaches, spring winders, and lathes—to restore them with precision. The result is a repair that lasts, leaving our clocks “better than ever.”
Remembering past tinkers
Yet, it’s important to remember the tinkerers of the past. In their time, they provided an essential service, keeping communities running on time. While we might wince at some of their makeshift repairs and call them “butchers,” those tinkerers were problem-solvers.
Speaking with my friend the horologist helped me better appreciate the humble, practical repairs of the past and the indispensable role these community tinkerers played.
When I encounter a clock with a “homemade” repair, I assess the quality of the work. If the repair, however crude, has stood the test of time, I often choose to leave it as is, recognizing it as part of the clock’s unique history.
Modern Repairs
Clock repair today is a world apart from the makeshift methods used by tinkerers of the past. Modern horologists have access to advanced, highly specialized tools—bushing machines, ultrasonic cleaners, spring winders, precision lathes—that allow them to restore and even improve upon the original functionality of antique clocks. This level of precision would have been unimaginable to the early tinkerers who often relied on a handful of common household tools, improvising as they went along.
Olie Baker spring winder
For them, a hammer, screwdriver, file, and eventually a soldering iron were the core of their toolkit. These tools were not intended for delicate clockwork but were adapted out of necessity, resulting in quick fixes rather than long-lasting repairs.
Enlarging a hole with Bergeon bushing machine
The philosophy behind clock repair has also evolved dramatically. Modern repairs focus on preserving the integrity of the clock, respecting the craftsmanship of its original makers. Each repair is a detailed process, and the goal is longevity. Modern techniques consider the clock’s historical value, aiming to keep its character intact while ensuring that it runs smoothly for years. This contrasts with the approach of early tinkerers, who were less concerned with historical value and more focused on getting the clock running again as quickly and affordably as possible.
Materials and cleaning methods today are specifically formulated for delicate clockwork. High-quality brass bushings, synthetic clock oils, and non-flammable cleaning agents protect the movement and prevent unnecessary wear. In the past, tinkerers often resorted to materials that were easily accessible but not ideal for clock repair. These methods may have restored basic function, but they often led to increased wear over time, necessitating further repairs and eventually compromising the clock’s condition.
In the early 20th century clock repairs were practical, unrefined, and performed with whatever was on hand. On the other hand, modern horologists have become part conservators, honoring the original makers by using high-quality techniques that preserve each clock as a historical artifact.
Modern horologists can train extensively, gaining a nuanced understanding of clock mechanics and restoration practices. Tinkerers, on the other hand, were often self-taught, relying on trial and error, observation, or advice from others. Many of them fixed clocks in their spare time, making do with limited resources and no formal training. Their skills were functional, focusing on keeping clocks ticking within the practical constraints of everyday life.
Today, when a clock is restored, we think of it as honoring history, a far cry from the “just make it tick” mindset of the past. Both approaches, however, share a common thread: a dedication to keeping time alive.
Thank you, subscribers and viewers. Whether you are a regular visitor, drop by occasionally, or are visiting for the first time, thank you.
This has been the most exciting year yet for antiquevintageclock.com. The blog has done very well and naturally, it is always a thrill to reach the milestone of the most views in the seven years I have had this blog.
It has taken time to build a following, more time than I’ve ever imagined. It takes planning, research, and an investment of energy but most importantly a strong commitment to producing quality articles on a twice-weekly basis.
After seven years I still consider myself a clock generalist though I feel I have become an expert in some areas. Judging from the email I received from you I appeal to a like-minded group who have either stumbled onto my site looking for advice and direction on a particular clock repair issue or are regular visitors who appreciate the content and express their thanks accordingly.
As I look over the articles that have the most views this year it is clear that most of my viewers from around the world are looking for direction with how-to and general-interest articles topping the list.
American New Haven clock movement
The statistics this year speak for themselves with over 190,000 views, and 101,000 visitors from 161 countries. Over the past seven years, there have been over 525,000 views.
The number of views also supports my blog by providing advertising revenue which pays for blog server space, domain registration, email service, cloud storage, clock supplies, and membership dues for NAWCC.
This year I have introduced a new email address to reduce the number of emails that go astray in my personal email account. The new address is ronjoiner@antiquevintageclock.com. Please continue to write to me with your clock issues and with general comments relating to my blog articles.
Again thanks and if you are here for the first time, welcome to articles concerning clock restoration and repair and articles about antique and vintage clocks in general and if you are a frequent flyer, thanks for supporting me all these years.
7 reasons why a hobby such as clockmaking gives respite during a pandemic.
Builds self-esteem. Developing and maintaining a hobby is important because the small successes from day to day are enough to sustain oneself amid other pressures in life and it is the one solid thing to feel good about. It gives renewed energy to tackle other challenges in life.
Dial face, Scottish tall case clock C.1848
Avoid boredom. There is zero scientific evidence of this but boredom is responsible for a lot of society’s ills and destructive behaviours. Do you come home after a challenging workday to watch hours of TV when you could be doing something constructive and rewarding? If so, it is time to re-evaluate your life.
Junghans Sydney shelf clock C.1911
Enrich your perspective. There is an old adage: “The more you know, the more you grow”. Any opportunity to learn something new, to be challenged anew, is great for character-building by seeing the world through refreshed eyes. Clockmaking or any hobby helps one differentiate from others and provides key examples of overcoming adversity or tackling a difficult situation and emerging on the other side.
American Watch and Clock Collectors Museum, USA
Keeps you youthful. Establishing and maintaining a hobby is a healthy habit to form not just now but for your later years. Hobbies are excellent for brain health and help stave off cognitive decline. The older you become the more difficulty you will have struggling to fill your time with meaningful activities. Beginning a hobby early in life pays dividends in the long run much like an interest-bearing investment.
Schatz W3 bracket clock C. 1950s
Combine your hobby with other interests. Photography and traveling are two other of my interests. Blogging is another, of course. Clockmaking combines all of those interests and as a side benefit my wife, who is also my travel partner and clock locator, provides encouragement every day.
Westclox LaSalle alarm clock C. 1934
It makes one interesting. Talk about your occupation or your grandchild and before long people’s eyes begin to glaze, but mention a clock that fell off a wall during the Halifax Explosion, a clock that hung in a railway station nearby, a rare clock bought for next to nothing and ears perk up.
Junghans Crispi wall clock, C.1898
A great way to relieve stress. Hobbies provide stress relief simply because it is an oasis, a way of disconnecting temporarily and we all need a place of refuge in trying times.
Mauthe wall clock circa 1895
We are nearing the end of the pandemic and folks are returning to their former routines. If you have found a new hobby in the past year there is no doubt you have certainly acquired new skills, renewed confidence and furthered your knowledge. Don’t stop now!
Perhaps recognizable as one of the most common regulator clocks in America, the Seth Thomas Regulator #2 was found in many railway stations, offices. libraries and other public places across America during the last century, a testament to its accuracy and dependability. It is a robust, accurate, well-engineered, and dependable timepiece that was made by Seth Thomas from 1860 to 1950, a run of 90 remarkable years. Few clocks can claim that kind of longevity.
It is an iconic American clock and every serious clock collector wants one.
Seth Thomas Regulator #2
This particular clock was made between 1922 and 1929 and has a base reminiscent of the earlier 1860 version of the #2. It has Arabic numbers with spade hands. The bow-tie between the wood dial bezel and the drop is one piece while earlier versions had a 3-piece “bow-tie”. It has a seconds hand 2 inches above the center cannon. However, it is not a true seconds hand and runs off the escapement taking 80 beats to complete the “minute”. All but the earliest #2s had the pendulum mounted in the rear.
It is 36 ½ inches tall and veneered in mahogany. It has 77A stamped on the bottom right of the movement with the letter “K” underneath and has a small ST stamp near the middle of the front plate. Some versions of the 77 have lantern pinions while this has cut or leaf pinions.
Seth Thomas Regulator #2
It has stopped – it needs a cleaning and perhaps a bushing or two
Lately, the clock has been stopping intermittently. I would nudge the clock along and it would run 5-10 minutes at a time and stop. I replaced the suspension spring and all seemed good as the clock ran for a couple of weeks. I thought I had addressed the issue but it began to stop again!
I bought the clock three years ago. It was oiled shortly after I received it but it has not been serviced and now it is telling me that servicing is long overdue.
Seth Thomas #2 suspension spring, old on left
The movement is relatively simple in that it has 4 wheels. I disassembled the movement, pegged the pivot holes, and re-assembled it. There is wear but I have seen far worse in clocks that continue to run well. However, It appears that this movement does not tolerate wear.
Very disturbing are the aggressive, deep punch marks around most of the pivot holes. Punching around pivot holes to close them might have been an acceptable practice many years ago, but not today. The repair is crude and unprofessional.
Seth Thomas #2, aggressive punch marks around all four wheels on the backplate
The leaf pinions are in very good condition, wheel teeth look good and the verge has minimal wear.
Servicing the movement
In total up to 6 bushings are required.
I also discovered a slightly bent third-wheel arbour that did not take much effort to straighten.
Seth Thomas #2, very simple with just 4 wheels
Despite its apparent simplicity the parts are made to close tolerances and any wear has the potential to stop the clock. I don’t think this is a good movement for the novice clock repairer.
I installed three bushings on the backplate; the second, third wheels, and the escape wheel, and two on the front; third wheel, the escape wheel, and the verge pivot hole front plate.
Seth Thomas #2, minus the motion works
The movement is clean, shiny, and mounted in the case for testing and minus the motion works gears.
Seth Thomas #2, test phase; the second hand is on to give me a quick visual as I pass by the clock
Despite the fact that I have 4 movement test stands, none are appropriate for this movement because of the iron bracket onto which the movement and pendulum are mounted. I suppose I could probably adapt something. For now, into the case it goes for testing.
After three weeks the clock is running very well.
Seth Thomas #2
While the movement was out of the case I replaced both the maintaining power spring and the old cable with 3/64 inch brass weight cable. The brass cable has one feature I really like, a nylon core that prevents it from coiling. I also gave the pendulum bob and weight a polishing.
Cleaning and bushing work put the clock right. After the wear issues were addressed the clock not only runs better but polishing the brass improves its appearance.
A 400-day clock, also known as a torsion clock, is a type of mechanical clock designed to run for about a year (400 days) on a single winding. It features a unique suspension system, where a rotating pendulum or torsion spring controls the movement. The clock’s long-running time is achieved through a very slow, consistent release of energy from the mainspring, and the mechanism is typically enclosed in a glass dome for display. Though not particularly accurate, they are fascinating to watch.
Years ago, my daughter gave me a Horolovar guide as a Christmas gift. Any horologist who works on many 400-day clocks will agree that the Horolovar guide is an indispensable manual when working with 400-day clocks.
It’s not a manual you’ll reach for often, but when working on 400-day clocks—often called anniversary clocks—it becomes absolutely essential.
Horolovar 400 Day Clock Repair Guide
The guide was last published in June 1991, and I believe little has changed since then. However, while writing this, I did some research and discovered that Haller Uhrenfabrik GmbH still produces mechanical anniversary clocks. Haller Uhrenfabrik GmbH is a German clock manufacturer based in Simonswald in the Black Forest, known especially for anniversary clocks, table clocks, and decorative mechanical timepieces. Founded in 1874, it combines traditional clockmaking.
Using the Manual
My daughter was in the midst of moving across the country when she unknowingly overlooked the locking mechanism on the 400-day clock she had received as a gift a few years ago. Upon unpacking it, she found that the suspension spring had snapped. While a snapped suspension spring can’t be reused, it can be easily replaced.
400-day clocks require very specific suspension springs, ones specially designed for each of the many dozens of manufacturers in the past 100 years. Install a suspension spring with an incorrect thickness and length, and you are asking for trouble. The correct spring for the make and model of the clock will ensure a smooth-running anniversary clock that will operate for many years.
On the positive side, these clocks run so slowly at 8 beats per minute that it is rare to have worn pivots and bushing holes.
Horolovar templates
Back to the clock in question. It is a Kundo anniversary clock made in the 1950s. According to the Horolovar guide, it is model 1371. Model 1371 tells me that the thickness of the suspension spring is .081 mm or .0032″. I’ve worked on similar models before and had some leftover Horolovar suspension springs of that size.
Kundo 400-day clock, made in West Germany
This is essentially a one-hour job. There are two blocks, one at the top and one at the bottom. Carefully unscrew the blocks, ensuring the spring doesn’t become bent during the process (the small screws can be tricky to loosen). Once the blocks are removed, insert the suspension spring and tighten the screws. After securing the blocks, the manual will indicate where to attach the suspension fork.
Suspension spring installed on a Kern400-day clock
Install the assembly onto the clock by attaching the top block with a screw that threads into the mounting hole, and hooking the bottom block onto the pendulum—but your work is not yet finished.
Now comes adjusting the beat and regulating the clock. There is a bracket above the suspension spring assembly that can be turned slightly (it is a friction fit) in either direction to correct the beat. I set the beat by ear and eye. There is a beat setting tool that can be purchased from a clock supplier if you plan to work on a lot of these clocks. In any event, a beat amplifier is an absolute must.
Most 400-day clocks run at 8 beats per minute. Mine runs slightly faster at 9 beats per minute, but this can be adjusted using the dial-type speed regulator at the top of the four weights. While a clock running a bit fast might seem negligible, over the course of a year, it can accumulate into a significant difference of minutes or even hours. As anyone familiar with these clocks will attest, they are not known for their precision in keeping time.
Can you install a new suspension spring without the Horolovar guide? Yes, but you’ll need to research the correct suspension spring thickness for that specific model and use the old assembly as a template.
In the end, 400-day clocks are deceptively simple machines that demand careful attention to detail. Replacing a suspension spring may only take an hour, but selecting the correct one, installing it properly, and setting the beat requires patience and a bit of experience. The Horolovar guide brings all of this together, turning what could be trial and error into a straightforward process. It may not be a book you use often, but when you need it, there’s really no substitute.
In light of current world events the antiquevintageclock.com family wish to convey our sympathy and condolences to those effected by Covid 19
Original time and strike 30 hour movement
The movement in this Canada Clock Co. time and (hour) strike cottage clock from the late 1880s is a mess but fixable. Some past repairs are acceptable while other leave a lot to be desired.
I’ll begin with the issues. “Repaired” mainsprings, nuts on a copper wire fashioned as a gong hammer and string “helping” the helper springs are things you really don’t want to see on a movement. The time side runs reasonably well but the strike side does not function, likely the result of fiddling with levers too many times.
clever, but dangerosu way of repairing the mainspring
The second mainspring, another “iffy” repair
Home-made copper wire and two nuts serve as the gong
String used to connect a broken helper spring
In the clock business you must always expect the unexpected. While I awaited parts, I went about cleaning the parts and bushing work .
This is perhaps the most frustrating 30-hour movement I have ever worked on
The parts arrived and included a new gong hammer, two new mainsprings and brass wire for new helper springs.
New 30 hour mainspring
New hammer gong and lever with helper springs installed
I began by installing the new hammer. Using my mini lathe I drilled a new access hole in the hammer arbour. I measured the diameter of the hammer rod and used a HSS bit to drill through the centre of the arbour. It was a reasonably good fit but to ensure a permanent hold I applied a drop of thread-locker.
The levers look like a twisting mess but there is a logic to the arrangement
This is the first 30-hour shelf clock I have worked on without a discernible warning action and it made for tricky lever positioning. Perhaps there is warning but I just could not see it. Though the levers look like a twisted mess there must be some logic to the arrangement.
The above photo shows the left side lifting lever that must be precisely adjusted and curved for the centre cam to push the drop lever over the count wheel cam to actuate the strike. The count lever blade must also line up exactly with the centre of the count wheel and precisely in the middle of the deep slot. As far as I can determine the lifting lever is the only one of the two levers that require a helper spring but I will know more after further testing.
All in all, this is one of the most frustrating 30-hour movements I have ever worked on. The movement was taken apart several times for various adjustments. I worked at for a while, left it, thought about the next steps but despite my best efforts, that strike side continues to elude me. The time side, however, works perfectly.
Some day I will have it working but for now it is on display.
After having attended a NAWCC (National Association of Watch and Clock Collectors) May 2019 chapter meeting in Ottawa and the 2019 NAWCC National Convention in June of this year I began to wonder why there is no NAWCC representation in the Maritime provinces of Canada (Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island) or even an informal clock and watch club.
The closest NAWCC chapter is Montreal, Canada and there are at least 3 active chapters in Ontario alone. There has never been an active NAWCC chapter in the maritime provinces.
I believe there are a fair number of clock enthusiasts (horologists) in my region who would love to meet in order to share experiences and expertise.
This blog reaches clock lovers all over the world and I encourage any of you who have an interest in mechanical clocks to seek out those with similar interests in your local community but if you are living in the Maritime provinces of Canada; Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island, contact me directly at ronjoiner@gmail.com if you are interested in getting together to talk about clocks and watches, share experiences, share repair techniques or boast about your collection.
If the numbers grow and there is sufficient interest we can form a club, and later on we might even be able to explore charter membership with NAWCC.
Has my 90 year old Gilbert clock been running continuously since it was first purchased? Not likely.
Gilbert time and strike mantel clock
Okay, you’ve made the plunge. For whatever reason you bought that mechanical clock you always wanted. Ask yourself; this is a 100 year old clock and it has been running all this time so what more do I need to do to take care of it. Why have it serviced or even oiled when it is running and striking as it should. The answer is complicated.
Winter, along with the dry conditions of a typical Canadian home, can play havoc with wooden clock cases. In Canada we generally shut the doors and windows to keep the cold air out from mid November to mid March and we may stay inside for days at a time. During our Canadian winter we have difficulty controlling indoor humidity. Most modern homes have a commercial style air-exchanger that is designed to control relative humidity but it can only do so much.
I have dozens of clocks and most do not seem to mind the changes in humidity from season to season other than a rate adjustment. Those vintage clocks that are adversely affected tend to be clocks with thin veneers that separate from the frames of the cases. Less affected are Ogee clocks with thicker veneers.
My Ingersoll-Waterbury time and strike clock from the mid 1940s is a 70 year old clock and not a particularly valuable one to begin with but has been affected with peeling veneer. The peeling veneer is unsightly and must be addressed.
I am not opposed to using modern materials to repair a vintage clock and in this case yellow carpenters glue was used to close the gaps on both the left and right rear of the case. Yellow carpenters glue has a bonding strength of 3 tons and for maximum effect is should be clamped for 24 hours.
Split veneer on left side, rear
Both sides of the case were splitting open. The right was slightly worse than the left. Although I have several clamps I only had one to spare for this little project so, the job was spread over a few days.
Right side is clamped
Wax paper is placed between the clamp and the veneer to prevent the glue from adhering to the clamp itself.
Once the glue has bonded, the case is lightly sanded in the affected areas, the remaining cracks treated with wood filler and touched up with a dark stain.
Stain-able filler in the small cracks that remain
Two coats of shellac are then applied.
Not perfect but an improvement.
Clocks and museums
I am not fanatical about humidity as far as my collection is concerned but museums go to great lengths to control humidity. In museums temperature and humidity are interrelated, and must be monitored and controlled in conjunction with one another towards the goal of preservation. Room temperature is usually established according to the needs of visitors, and is set between 18 and 20°C. The relative humidity for the correct conservation of the works displayed usually lie in the limited range between 45 and 50%.
Clocks react to humidity differently. Clocks with wood pendulum rods need seasonal adjusting as the wood contracts and expands with changes in humidity. Wall clocks that have tight doors in the summer are easier to open in the winter as wood contracts.
High humidity can be mitigated through the use of humidifiers if there is sufficient concern about dry air and its effect on clock cases. It is a good option in the winter months.
If you have a modest collection of clocks I would not worry about humidity issues but you can be assured that seasonal changes can have an affect on your clocks.
What other machine have you acquired that has worked continuously since it was made 150 plus years ago and still does the job it was intended for? Mechanical clocks revolutionized people’s perception of time by displaying neutral, uniform units that showed the passage of time. Though not as accurate as the modern electronic timekeeper the mechanical clock remains a marvel of engineering and innovation.
The constant search for clocks
Locating antique and vintage clocks involves travelling, meeting fascinating people and discovering a clock’s particular history. Each story is unique and some stories are sad. I recently arranged the purchase of an antique French shelf clock, arrived to pick it up and discovered that the person was terminally ill and selling off his clock collection to provide for his wife after he had passed. I really felt sorry for the fellow. Of course, many stories are happy ones.
I enjoy clocks for what they are. I often think about the men who conceived them, built them and the craftsmen working in small factories in places such as New England with primitive (by our standards) tools and the harsh conditions they endured. Life to them was a day-to-day struggle. That the clocks are still with us today is a testament to the pioneers of clock-making.
Miniature Vienna Regulator wall clock, circa 1870
There are a lot of clocks I find intriguing. There are some people that collect complex clocks and I appreciate them as well but I lean towards beauty in simplicity. For example, the miniature Vienna Regulator pictured above is a time-only clock made during the Austrian-Hungarian empire (1870). It is simple, little can go wrong and after nearly 150 years it is still running strong.
There is a certain joy in collecting and repairing clocks. The hobby of clock-making allows one to escape from negativity, put aside worldly matters, effectively manage stress, and dispense with everyday concerns. Occasionally clock problems are very challenging however, the joy in discovering a solution is immeasurable. Beyond that, clocks are an art form and should be appreciated for what they are.
As a collector, the number of clocks I have is not important. The size of my collection is also not important but by trimming my acquisitions from time to time I keep it manageable.
One cannot deny the classic style of an American Ogee clock. This one is in great shape and required almost nothing to get it to top form. 30-hour shelf clocks are abundant but not many cases survive years of wear and tear.
Dial removed to show the 30 hour movement
This George H. Clark 30-hour shelf clock is a very good example of Connecticut form. The case form is called an “og” or “ogee”, a mathematical term that describes the “S” curve shape in the primary molding that surrounds the door.
The clock has a brass time and strike, weight driven movement with an excellent original printed paper label on the interior reading in part “Made and Sold at/46 Courtlandt St/New York…. George H. Clark”. It measures 28 x 17 x 4.5”. This rectangular shaped case is decorated with nicely grained mahogany veneers. The veneer has very little if any losses.
The dial face
The upper section of the door is fitted with clear glass. Through this one can view the painted wood dial. The wood dial tells me that it is an early pre-1850 clock. This dial is formatted with a Roman numeral time track.
It is always a challenge matching 100+-year-old paint but by combining white. brown and yellow acrylic paint I was able to approximate the original colour. Some Roman Numerals were touched up with black acrylic paint.
The wood dial before touch-ups
And after numerals and face given a matching paint; you can see the difference in the number 4
I also glued two small blocks under the left and right “L” pins to centre the dial correctly.
The door is open showing the gong coil and the pasted label in very good condition
The lower section features a beehive painted tablet. The tablet is a replacement but fairly close to what would have been there at the time.
Beehive design; not original but in keeping with the style
Observations regarding the movement
The movement looks like an early (unmarked) Waterbury, ca. 1860 type 2.411. Waterbury movements have “quarter-round” corners, while most other ogee movements tend to have the “tombstones” or plain rectangles. The movement could have been swapped but It is difficult to tell.
A clean Jerome style movement
Everything except the movement points to a period between 1840-50. If the movement is a replacement it was likely an early replacement.
30-hour movements will run surprisingly well with horrible pivot wear. However, regarding repair, my view is this: I do not normally install new bushings in every single pivot hole on the movement. If a bushing hole is passable I will leave it as-is but if the hole is quite oblong I will install a new bushing to mitigate potential gear meshing issues in the future.
Addressing the movement
I will also ignore some past repairs. For example, in this particular movement I noticed 4 punch marks around the escape wheel bridge pivot hole. As most clock repairers know using a punch to close a pivot hole was an acceptable practice many years ago though it is not considered a good practice today. In this particular case, the pivot hole was in good shape and I decided to leave it as-is. After assessing the movement further, I installed one bushing on the second wheel front plate strike side (S2) and the second on the second wheel strike side rear plate (T2). Just two bushings. As to the three lantern pinions, they were in very good condition.
Reassembly was routine. The time side ran fine.
Adjusting the strike side was not easy and should have been a simple procedure. The problem was not only correctly positioning the warning pin on the fly but ensuring that the warning hook lever could actually meet the warning hook. The levers in this clock had been bent every which way making it a real challenge to find the correct angles. It did not strike correctly before servicing. Trial and error combined with colourful language certainly helped correct the strike.
The finished clock
The gong block and coil were also cleaned up. Tip; it helps to put the same screws back in the same holes. Seems trivial but it is a good practice. Not all screws are the same.
Gong block removed and cleaned
Little time was spent on this clock and I was fortunate to have an almost perfect case. The previous owner knew how to take care of the case but the movement neede work. When many of these clocks stopped they simply became decorations but I am sure that this one will run reliably for many more years to come.
I asked reader and fellow horologist Bob G. if he could kindly give me permission to profile one of his favorite clocks, an Ansonia Marquis crystal regulator circa 1904. This is a very impressive clock that showcases the best of Victorian style at the turn of the twentieth century.
The photos are Bob’s and I will let them largely speak for themselves. But first some information about the company.
Much has been written about the Ansonia Clock Company. The company’s history can be found here. Formed in 1844 the Ansonia Clock Company had a relatively long life but went into receivership just prior to the infamous stock market crash of 1929. The machinery and dies were sold to a Russian holding company thus ending the long reign of one of Americas best known clock companies.
“…there came an order to supply the Soviet union with men and machines to make watches and clocks, neither of which products ever had been manufactured there. Representatives of Amtorg went to the Ansonia Clock Company in Brooklyn and to the Duber Hampden Watch Company of Canton, Ohio, and bought them lock, stock and barrel. Then they hired most of the skilled employees of the plants to go to Russia and operate the familiar machines. These have been installed in a new, many-windowed building in Moscow, where Russian apprentices are beginning to master the trade.”
An inglorious end to a fine clock-maker. Now to Bob’s clock.
Clock face showing Brocot “open” escapement
Bob writes:
the Ansonia “MARQUIS” crystal regulator mantel clock is an eight-day time and strike with open escapement, jeweled pallets, porcelain dial, thick beveled glass and a brass bezel. The hands and pendulum appear original and it came with an old key which is probably a replacement. There are no hairline cracks or chips that I could see in the dial or the beveled glass. The pendulum is the same as the one shown in the 1904 catalog.
Pendulum bob showing faux mercury in two glass tubes
Ansonia listed the MARQUIS in its 1904 catalog. It may have been produced a couple years either side of that date. The original price in 1904 was a whopping $40.00, not cheap for that time period. $40.00 in 1904 is equivalent in purchasing power to $1107.48 in 2019.
The clock measures 15½ inches high and 7½ inches wide with a 4-inch porcelain dial. The case is listed in the catalog as polished brass, “rich gold” ornaments.
Side view of the Marquis
I purchased this clock as part of a large collection. The owner had passed away, and his grandson was settling the estate. The grandfather had opened a jewelry store and clock shop over 73 years ago and the store is still in operation today.
This clock needed a good cleaning, and the brass was badly tarnished.
Tarnished brass base
After cleaning and polishing
The gold ornaments were left intact to preserve the rich patina.
Ornamental features, the legs and crown
The entire clock was disassembled, and the brass parts were run through an ultrasonic cleaner, then polished.
Back plate, coiled gong and hammer
The movement was also taken apart and cleaned. All the bushings and pivots were in good condition. One of the jeweled pallets needed to be adjusted and reset with shellac.
Trim pieces in place
It took about a week to get this beauty all back together and running again, but it was worth the effort to see it ticking away and keeping great time.
Thank you Bob. A most impressive clock.
The jeweled pallets are made from garnet, a precious stone consisting of a deep red vitreous silicate mineral. Here is an interesting 1905 catalog showing Ansonia’s collection of crystal regulators. Page 24 shows the Marquis with a price increase to $41.80. As Bob pointed out, a hefty price for a clock in its time.
These three 30 hour clocks in the opening photo were serviced in the fall of 2018. The fourth (shown next) is a Waterbury Ogee from about 1870.
It was never my intention to collect 30-hour clocks but I am attracted to this style of clock. Thousands were made, they are surprisingly cheap and come up often on online for-sale sites. Many have the cases that have suffered the ravages of time though these are in very good condition. However, buyers and collectors tend to stay away from 1-day clocks because of the hassle of winding them every day.
I marvel at the engineering and innovative technology of clocks made over 150 years ago and how popular these clocks were in their day.
Waterbury 30-hour Ogee clock
On the left in the opening photo (and below) is a George H Clark, pre-1850. It features a Jerome-like movement and a wood dial.
George H. Clark 30 hour Ogee
All of the clocks on this page have similar movements to this Jerome
Touch-ups to nicks and scratches were all that were required to improve the look of the case but the movement required a good cleaning as well as a couple of bushings.
The middle clock (also seen below) is a Chauncey Jerome Ogee clock. The label dates the clock to about 1855-56 just prior to the company’s bankruptcy.
Chauncey Jerome 30 hour Ogee clock
Eight bushings were installed on this clock. Some of these clocks need a lot of work while others require a good cleaning.
On the far right (and blow) is a Sperry and Shaw 30 hour New York style 4 column shelf clock. The movement was disassembled and cleaned but did not require bushing work. The case was also freshened up.
Sperry & Shaw 4 column clock with a Canada Clock Co 30-hour steeple to the right
I am fascinated with 30 hour clocks. Yes, they require winding every day but I enjoy it and it has become one of my daily rituals. The sound of the gong is not particularly pretty but it is distinctive. You always know when an Ogee clock is striking in a house.
What other mechanical devices keep running after 150+ years?
This Gilbert tambour style mantel clock is model 2038 with a bim-bam strike or what Gilbert called a Normandy chime. The model number along with the words “Normandy Chime” are stamped on the bottom of the case. Gilbert called this the “Normandy Chime” as it was reminiscent of the old bells of Normandy (Corneville) in France. In terms of nomenclature within clock circles, calling it a “Chime” certainly adds to the confusion as this would be considered a striking clock rather than a chiming one.
Whoever did the past bushing work chose to avoid the motion works area, and for good reason
The Movement
And now to service the movement.
Dis-assembly of the movement is done in the conventional manner with the exception of two items. Both the striking disk (upper arrow) which runs off the cam wheel and the passing strike L bracket (lower arrow) which runs off the centre cannon are friction fit and must be pulled off beforehand to work on the movement. I don’t have a puller but two small screwdrivers positioned across from each other will lift the parts off with minimal effort. Do not polish the ends of these two rear pivots.
Arrows showing striking disk and passing strike L bracket
A prior examination of the movement revealed that it is generally good shape. Overall, the lantern pinions are in good condition with minimal wear. There has been extensive bushing work completed in the past. I see six replacement bushings on the back plate and seven on the front for a total of thirteen which suggests that there was a lot of wear. They are all in very good condition which tells me that the work was done fairly recently.
It also tells me that whoever did the past bushing work chose to avoid the motion works area and for two reasons. It is a tough one to fix because there is so little brass to work with and there is not a lot of torque on this wheel so it can be left as-is.
Although the following photo does not show it well, there is a lot of play in the bushing hole. This is the only one that is addressed in this servicing because I wanted to ensure good meshing of the motion works gears.
Motion works gear with bushing wear
To address the motion works bushing I sought advice from my colleagues at the NAWCC forum site with comments ranging from doing nothing to immediate replacement. The best advice came from a member who suggested I install a smaller diameter bushing and broach out the hole to fit the pivot and that is exactly what I did. A #46 Bergeon bushing was chosen with a diameter of 3mm and an inside diameter of 1.30mm. The pivot is 1.48mm and the result is a side wall that is about 0.80mm. This should allow the gear to mesh nicely and since there is not a lot of torque on this gear the fix should last a long time.
Re-assembling was straightforward. There are no helper springs on this movement so there was no tension pushing on the levers. The only adjustment I had to make was to pull the movement slightly apart to correctly align the stop pin to the stop lever so that the movement strikes as it should.
Arrow showing stop pin (my healing thumbnail from a mainspring that let go)
Since the movement has a Normandy chime the striking hammers are located outside and to the bottom of the movement.
Striking hammer assembly for Normandy Chime
The final process in re-assembly is to attach the hammer mechanism. But before doing so two parts are re-attached, the strike wheel and the L bracket which are pushed back into place. Once in place they can be moved slightly to sync the hourly and half hour strike.
Some folks give Gilbert movements a bad rap but they are not much different than a Sessions, or similar inexpensive movement of that period and the fact that this one is still functioning after over 90 years has to say something for its engineering.
Although there are two dozen clock books in my collection I am always on the look out for more. Some of my books profile various types and styles of clocks, some explore the history of horology while others are concerned with clock repair and case restoration.
Part of every vacation or daily outing in my province of Nova Scotia or elsewhere in Canada involves scouring the used books stores for clock books. Sometimes I am lucky and manage to locate some good ones but quite often I will leave used book stores disappointed.
The table of contents describes what he covers in his book.
Contents of the book
Specialized procedures
Although the book is no longer in print it provides excellent examples of clock repair procedures by describing step-by-step instruction for overhauling and repairing many movements plus the repair and restoration of dials, and cases of antique pendulum clocks. Commonly found clocks that you are likely to inherit or find on online auction sites, flea markets and antique stores are covered.
John Plewes covers clocks from Britain, Canada, the US, France and Germany. There are plenty of diagrams and photos in the book to assist the amateur or expert repair person .
For example, Chapter 4 covers the Pequegnat Regulator #1 8-day movement.
“The finest clock made in America”; Pequegnat advertisement. This clock hangs in the Canadian Clock Museum
The clock is markedly similar to the Seth Thomas Regulator #2 shown below.
Seth Thomas Regulator #2
Plewes makes several interesting points regarding the design of this clock. He discusses the difficulty in finding a replacement weight and often the lighter Seth Thomas weight is substituted which leads to the clock stopping after a while. Plewes is surprisingly critical of the #1 at one point stating that the hands are too heavy since they influence the force applied to the train. The pendulum arc changes when the minute hand indicates 20 minutes after, as against that at 50 minutes. The solution, he feels, is to counterweight the hands or install lighter hands. Plewes opines that the whole point of a regulator is to maintain the constant arc and Pequegnat seemed to have missed that point when designing the clock.
Plewes covers a lot of ground in his book. Some of the advice is certainly beyond the skill level of an amateur clock repair person but if you are interested in growing within the world of clock repair and case restoration it will provide an invaluable resource.
Also included are safety tips, shop techniques, and a glossary of terms.
The book was last published over 30 years ago but If you can find it, and are interested in clock repair from a Canadian perspective it is well worth the cost.
The problem; a run-on strike. The solution; remove the movement, poke around looking for the cause, find it almost immediately and apply a quick fix.
The story
My winter (2017) project was an antique German Junghans Crispi time and strike spring driven wall clock made in the style of a Vienna Regulator. It was manufactured in Schwenningen, Germany in 1899. It came to me as a box of parts. I put hours of work into this project so a malfunctioning movement was a bit of a disappointment.
When I originally disassembled the movement for servicing I made two errors. In my attempt to correct a bent star wheel paddle, I managed to snap it off.
Strike paddle
However, I also managed to snap off the paddle wheel arbor spring which is essentially a thin steel wire which maintains paddle tension during the strike. At the time I did not have the right tools to repair the break. Hmm! After a professional servicing, all is right.
Return spring that had become loose after two years (first photos taken of the movement)
Fast forward to 2019
Now, two years later the strike side decided to malfunction. It was striking incessantly. I decided to check out the problem. I took the movement out of the case, removed the clock face and immediately noticed that the strike tension wire had wiggled out of the arbor so that nothing prevented the paddle from stopping, hence the run-on strike. As I mentioned this was one of the repairs made on the clock when it was professionally serviced.
The solution is Loctite. Some purists will scoff but I believe there is place for modern materials in clock repair so long as the repair is functional and discreet. I positioned the spring correctly and applied Loctite where the wire runs into the paddle arbour and allowed it to dry for 24 hours.
After the repair the clock is striking as it should. However, it took me a couple of days to find the correct beat. For some reason this clock must be absolutely level to function correctly. If it is off by just a smidgen it will not run. Anyway, everything is fine now.
The world of horology reveals an assortment of interesting expressions as well as the misuse of words and terms. For classic example; why do some refer to shelf clocks as Mantle clocks when a mantel is something you wear like a shawl or a cloak? Mantel, such as a shelf over a fireplace, is the correct term.
I want to focus on one very common expression. How many times have you the heard the expression, “it was running fine till I over-wound it”? I have heard it often enough on clock forum, Facebook sites and among acquaintances. It is an ubiquitous expression. Do not blame the last person winding the clock for they are not the cause of a so-called “over-wound” clock or one that stops mysteriously.
Over tightening
While it may be technically accurate that a mainspring can become damaged by repeated over-tightening that is, winding the spring until it is tight, and then continuing to tighten it more just to be on the safe side, there is another reason why this occurs.
Take a spring barrel like the one in the following photo.
Barrel and winding arbour
When the spring is wound it is coiled tightly around the winding arbour. The other end of the spring has a small hole which is hooked over a small stud, which is riveted into the interior wall of the barrel.
The hole allows the spring to be hooked to the inside of the barrel
The hole in the spring can become fatigued because of years of repeated “over-tightening”, and/or the stamped hook or riveted stud breaks free. “Over-winding” is not the reason.
A dirty movement
American open mainspring clocks “appear” to be “over-wound” because of a buildup of old oil, rust and dirt in the mainspring coil which causes the coil to stick and the spring to seize.
Clocks which might appear to be “over-wound” and non-working can be persuaded to run again by letting down the mainspring completely with a let-down tool, liberally applying mainspring oil and rewinding. This procedure is by no means a substitute for a good cleaning and it does not address other issues that may be causing the clock to stop but it is one step in troubleshooting your clock movement.
It is only when the movement is disassembled and the mainspring is removed from the arbour that you can examine the condition of the mainspring and decide whether to keep it or replace it. Dirt and old oil can be easily cleaned up. Light rust on a mainspring can be removed with emery paper or steel wool; heavy rust and the mainspring should be replaced. Inspect the spring for cracks or breaks. In many situations the mainspring can be saved.
In some cases the click can let go because the rivet securing the click becomes fatigued. For example, Sessions clocks have weak clicks and rivets. Inspection and remediation of a bad click is a typical procedure when servicing a Sessions clock.
Open mainspring click riveted in place.
Do not expect a newly acquired clock to have been serviced recently or at all unless the seller can prove it. Moreover, servicing a mechanical clock on a regular basis is an important part of ownership.
“Over-winding” is one of those terms that one hears quite often and is a very common myth.
The first day of spring is called the vernal equinox (sometimes also referred to as the spring equinox or March equinox) and it is almost always either March 20 or March 21 though it will fall on March 20 for the next two years in a row. The first day of the spring season is the day of the year when the Sun crosses the celestial equator moving northward.
Spring is often called the season of rebirth and renewal. It is also seen as the time of the year when we Canadians crawl out of winter hibernation and greet longer and warmer days with enthusiasm and renewed energy.
1910 Ansonia Crystal Regulator
In the pursuit of horological interests what will Spring mean for this writer?
This weekend (March 2019) my wife and I are in Fredericton, New Brunswick. Part of our mini vacation is to check out antique shops and flea markets for interesting clocks.
Otherwise, at home I am putting the finishing touches on the servicing of an Ansonia Crystal Regulator and determining next steps for a recently acquired Gilbert tambour clock.
Gilbert tambour style mantel clock circa 1925
Clocks coming up on the bench are an Arthur Pequegnat Brandon for inspection and oiling, another Gilbert Mantel clock for servicing and case repairs and a Jauch wall clock that I am servicing at for a friend.
Arthur Pequegnat Brandon II
In June I am attending the National Association of Watch and Clock Collectors national conference in Massachusetts (USA) where I hope to interact with like-minded individuals within the world of horology and perhaps learn new things. I am looking forward to it.
On many German antique pendulum-driven clocks, including those made by manufacturers like Mauthe, you’ll often find various numbers stamped or engraved on the back plate of the movement. These numbers serve different purposes and provide valuable information about the clock’s origin, design, and specifications.
In this article, we will explore some of these numbers and explain their purposes.
In the lower portion of the backplate of the movement in question, there are a series of numbers. Some of these numbers have a clear explanation while others are somewhat of a mystery. For example, one number, the beats per minute number, helps a clockmaker regulate the movement during servicing.
Let’s begin with the number 34. The number 34 refers to the measurement in centimeters from the top of the suspension spring post to the bottom of the pendulum regulating nut.
Nomenclature of a German pendulum assembly
The 34 cm measurement includes the following: the top of the suspension spring post, the suspension spring, the pendulum hanger, and the pendulum rod and bob. Within this total length, the suspension spring measures 2 centimeters. The pendulum rod, from the hook to the bottom, measures 26.5 centimeters
The number 116, located next to the number 34 on the movement, refers to beats per minute (BPM). Clock train tables typically express the timing of a movement in beats per hour (BPH). A movement running at 116 beats per minute will have 6,960 beats per hour. This information is invaluable for a clockmaker when regulating a movement during servicing.
Heinrich Kielmann patented hanger
On the movement pictured above is a peculiar number that does not relate to the running of the trains themselves.
The number 55006 is a patent number, issued to Heinrich Kielmann (Ruhrort/Rhein) in 1890 or 1891. The patent concerned the hanging of the pendulum. Kielmann not only manufactured loose movements for other makers but also allowed them to produce their own movements using his patented pendulum hanging system. This is why movements from various manufacturers may bear this patent number.
You might also come across another number.
The number 7137 is a mystery
In the example above, the number 7137 could indicate a production number or a coded method of expressing the date, known only to the manufacturer. Occasionally, numbers may be reversed, as seen in earlier Junghans clocks, or they could represent a production number, where 7137 might correspond to the specific number of this clock within the range of movements produced that year. Without access to the database of Mauthe clocks, the last number remains a mystery.
Should you receive a movement without a pendulum rod, or a bob, these measurements can be invaluable for sourcing replacement parts. Knowing the precise length of the pendulum, the type of suspension spring, and the size of the movement can help you find or fabricate compatible components, ensuring the clock can be properly restored to working condition.
Alternatively, understanding these numbers will undoubtedly deepen your knowledge of clock collecting and repair.
In the process of adjusting the strike side on a George H Clark 30-hour clock I decided to make a video showing how to remove and install a 30-hour movement from its case.
George H. Clark 30 hour movement before servicing
Part of the video concerns the adjustments required for the clock to run correctly but also shows the steps required to safely remove and install a 30-hour movement with a couple of worthwhile tips.
IMPORTANT: In the video, I did not include the fact that the two holes in the movement seat board are access points for pins that insert into the side support boards. Along with the top block they are intended to secure the movement in place. I have five Ogee clocks and none of them had pins when I received them. Inspect the movement mounting first. If you should have a clock with the pins they must be pulled before the movement slides out. (Thank you for pointing this out JC).
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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