A German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, likely from the late 1940s, was gifted to my father-in-law—a physician in a small Nova Scotia town—by a grateful secretary, likely in the mid-to-late 1960s. It hung in the family home until 1997 when it was packed away during a move and eventually passed to the user’s brother-in-law. The clock was never displayed again and remained in storage for decades.
Recently, I was asked to restore it. My wife recalls the clock from childhood, confirming its presence in the home for many years. A service sticker inside the door, from “Time Center” in Amherst, Nova Scotia, suggests it was professionally serviced sometime between 1974 and 1996, most likely in the 1980s.
Now, after years of neglect, the clock is due for a full movement cleaning and cosmetic case touch-up.
I’ll cover the case restoration in this article. Surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.
A word about Clock Cases
I’m firmly opposed to stripping and refinishing clock cases for two key reasons. First, it destroys the original patina—a quality many collectors value and appreciate in antique clocks. Second, the finishing techniques used when these clocks were made are nearly impossible to replicate today. As a result, refinishing often produces a sanitized look that lacks the character and authenticity of the original.
Instead, I will begin by cleaning the case and attempting to minimize the nicks and scratches that have accumulated over time through normal use, using a light coat.
Cleaning and touch-ups
The Case
The clock case was cleaned and given two light coats of Minwax wipe-on poly, with a light sanding between applications. For the final polish, 2500-grit sandpaper was used to achieve a smooth finish.
The poly finish helped conceal minor scratches, though some faint marks remain visible upon close inspection.
The glass was thoroughly cleaned, and the brass strips on the door were polished using Brasso.
The spun brass bezel was also polished with Brasso. While there is some minor wear visible on the dial face, I chose to leave it untouched, aside from a gentle cleaning with soap and water, as it is not particularly noticeable from a normal viewing distance.
While I was working on the case, the movement was undergoing testing. It’s now at the end of the first testing phase, and the next step is to reinstall it into the case and continue with testing.
The complete clock
The movement dial is attached to the movement using four pins, one at each corner. Once the dial is in place, the hands are installed—first the hour hand, followed by the minute hand.
Once the dial is mounted on the movement and attached to the seat board, the assembly can be slid into the channels in the case and screwed into place. Under the seat board are two thumbscrews used to secure the movement.
The main challenge was positioning the strike hammers so they rest about 1/8″ from the strike rods. This involved some trial and error, requiring the movement to be removed several times for fine adjustments. The hammer rods are somewhat pliable and can be carefully bent into the correct position.
Finally
This well-traveled Mauthe clock has finally returned to active duty, proudly ticking away once more after decades in storage. With both the case and movement restored, it now stands as a meaningful family heirloom and a fine example of mid-century German craftsmanship.
Many years ago, my father-in-law received a gift from his secretary. As a physician in a small town in Nova Scotia, it was once common practice to accept small tokens of appreciation from fellow employees. The gift was a German-made Mauthe time-and-strike wall clock, often referred to today as a “box clock” and made sometime in the late 1940s.
It hung on the wall in my in-laws’ home until 1997, when they moved to a smaller house in the same town to downsize. The clock was packed away and never rehung in their new home. Instead, my brother-in-law took it to his home, about three hours away, presumably intending to display it. However, it remained in storage and was never hung.
Mauthe time and strike box clock
Recently, he asked if I could service the movement and restore the clock, and I gladly agreed.
My wife remembers the clock from her childhood, recalling it from when she was a young girl. This suggests it was gifted in the mid-to-late 1960s. Her father proudly hung the clock in the family home, and I remember his weekly ritual of winding it.
It was evidently serviced at least once. Inside the clock’s door, there is a sticker from a clockmaker in Amherst, identifying the repairer as Time Center, 5 Westminster Ave, Amherst. However, an online search yielded no information about this business. The sticker includes a Canadian postal code, which indicates that the clock was serviced after 1974, when postal codes were introduced in Nova Scotia. This means the servicing took place sometime between 1974 and 1996, though I cannot pinpoint the exact year. It likely would have been serviced in the 1980s.
A jewelry shop in Amherst, Nova Scotia, circa 1940s
After many years stored, it is long overdue for a cleaning. The plan is to service the movement and touch up a tired case.
Servicing the Movement
Before taking the clock apart, I wanted to see if it still worked. I removed the movement, oiled the pivots, and then placed the movement back into the case. I hung the clock on the wall in my office, wound it, attached the pendulum, and gave it a push. To my surprise, it ran for a while—despite having been in storage for years. Running the clock also reassured me that I likely wouldn’t encounter any significant mechanical issues.
The front plate is removed to show the two trains
However, the only way to confirm any wear for certain would be to disassemble the movement, which I proceeded to do.
Second wheels with robust Leaf pinions
I disassembled the movement, put all the parts in an ultrasonic cleaner, dried the parts after the cleaning, pegged the pivot holes, polished the pivots, and now checked for wear. I generally assemble the trains separately with the strike side first, since often it is the greater source of wear. I then move to the time side.
The movement looked to be in very good condition overall, though I noticed some wear in six of the pivot holes. The most worn appeared to be the third wheel on the backplate (or star wheel), and the second wheel on the time side backplate. In the end, I installed only two bushings—those pivot holes were in the worst condition.
This is a family clock, and I doubt it will see daily use; it’s more likely to serve as a decorative piece. If I were doing this as a professional repair, I would have addressed all signs of wear, which in this case might have meant installing up to six bushings.
Springs barrels with partially exposed mainsprings
I’m also donating my time to this project, so if the clock stops after a couple of years, I’d have no problem servicing it again.
The mainsprings were serviced by removing them from their barrels, thoroughly cleaning them, and then applying fresh oil. The barrels and their caps were also cleaned to remove any residual oil and were placed in the ultrasonic cleaner for a deep clean.
Mauthe clock dial
Reassembly
Transitioning from a typical American antique clock movement to a German one is a significant step, primarily because you’re dealing with much smaller pivots, which greatly increases the risk of bending or breaking them. Those who have replaced pivots before know how challenging the process can be—and that it requires specialized equipment, such as a metal lathe. This is a case where it’s essential to resist the urge to force the pivots into their respective holes and instead exercise a great deal of patience.
A pivot locator is an essential tool that every clock repair person should have in their toolbox.
Pivot locator
Assembling the movement begins with inserting the mainspring barrels onto the backplate. The third wheel on the time side is positioned between the barrels, which means the barrels go in first, then the third wheel and the three-wing retaining spring on the top are then secured in place. After that, all the other gears and put in place.
Once everything is where it should be, the front plate is positioned and secured in place by the two movement nuts on the barrel end, which helps prevent the plates from separating while aligning the pivots up the trains into their respective holes. On the strike side, I generally leave the fly and stop wheel out until the very last moment.
The escapement is worked in through the opening on the front plate after the movement is assembled and the two screws for the suspension spring bridge secure the escapement in place. Once they are in place, it is time to work on the front plate by installing the levers, the rack, and the snail.
This movement has four strike hammers. It produces its distinctive bim-bam sound by having one hammer strike the outermost rod, while the other three simultaneously strike the remaining rods. The arrangement involves a paddle and “L” rod system (one hammer on the paddle and three on the “L” rod), and both must be positioned between two points of the star wheel.
“L” rod and paddle in the centre of the photo
If not, one or the other may get caught on a star point and stop the strike. Sometimes, I’m successful on the first try; otherwise, I must open the plates and reposition the star wheel. In this case, I got it right the first time.
The only other adjustment to be mindful of is ensuring that the pin on the warning wheel—the uppermost gear on the strike side—is positioned roughly at the 12 o’clock mark. This ensures that the wheel spins enough to properly set up the warning.
Testing
I take a cautious step-by-step approach during the testing phase. I wind the time side first, observe the movement and the action of the escapement, and make any necessary adjustments to ensure that once the movement is level, the escapement is in beat. I then run it for 24 hours.
Once I’m satisfied that the time side will run reliably, I shift my focus to the strike side. I check the movement, ensure there aren’t any obvious obstructions, wind the strike side mainspring, and observe its action, taking care to note the position of the lever on the snail to ensure that all 12 hours strike properly. I did have to make one small correction. I adjusted the snail by removing it, repositioning it one cog to the left, and reinserting it to ensure it aligned properly with the flat sections.
I typically test for about 2 weeks or 2 eight-day cycles before I reinstall it into the case. Once in the case, I resumed testing for another two cycles.
Summary
I’ll cover the case restoration in a separate article. Notably, surprisingly little must be done to the case, although it is dull with age and has a few minor scratches.
This project is particularly rewarding because it’s a family clock. It has been in the family for nearly 60 years and was a source of pride for my father-in-law. Were he still with us, I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that it’s being carefully restored to its original condition.
Antique and Vintage Mechanical Clocks 
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