Restoring Treasured Timepieces at Harrogate Repair Café
Secrets of the Horologist by Malcolm
Clocks are one of the most popular items presented to the Harrogate Repair Café. Many of them are old mantel clocks. The most interesting aspect of repairing and restoring these is the sentimental value they typically hold. Often, they are inherited heirlooms that lie neglected for years until, perhaps while reminiscing about an ancestral owner, the inheritor wants to get them working again. Often, they have tried unsuccessfully to find a “professional clock man”, or may not be able to afford one. In the last nine months, I have attended to over 20 clocks at the monthly sessions at the Harrogate Repair Café, with only one being beyond repair due to worn components.
These old clocks are generally robust and with a little maintenance can be made to run reliably. However, neglect, carelessness and accidents all take their toll, and they need a bit of work to restore them. They vary in sophistication; many have five different chime bars which ring the quarters and the hours with a delightful “Westminster Chime”. When I have a movement running, I am always fascinated to watch how its ingenious design does all that counting. It is a pity this is all hidden behind the dial, and nobody else gets to see it.
The principle of the Harrogate Repair Café is to try to repair the broken items presented to us within an hour or so during the four-hour session, with the owner observing and sometimes participating in the repair process. However, with timepieces it is not always possible to fix them on the spot so sometimes I have homework to take away at the end of the session.
The main problem with old clocks is the lack of available replacement parts. When these cannot be sourced, creative, simple and unconventional solutions are needed. Although basic materials are readily available, parts still need to be accurately and reliably constructed. Here are case studies of two such restorations.
The Case of the Missing Pendulum
This clock probably dates back to the 1940s and originally belonged to the current owner’s parents, possibly their wedding clock. The owner was unaware that the clock was missing a pendulum when they brought it in.
The pendulum for this clock is in two parts, allowing the lower part to be unhooked so it doesn’t bang around during transport. The delicate suspension leaf spring that attaches the top part of the pendulum to the pillar above the clock’s escapement was broken. The lower part, including the “bob”, was completely missing. Replacements were not available online, so these had to be made from scratch. The leaf spring was easily replaced with a Perspex one (cut from food packaging) and attached using simple sewing pins. I used this technique in a station clock over twenty years ago, and I’m delighted to say that it’s still working.
The lower part of the pendulum was more challenging. For timekeeping, the clock depends on the pendulum’s length, not its weight, which is not critical. Therefore, the bob's height must be adjustable until the clock keeps time, but the complete assembly must remain stable.
In this picture you can see that the materials used to construct the pendulum are very basic; just a small jam pot lid, lead discs, a bolt and some picture hooks, fettled with pliers and a file. On the right is the finished lower part of the pendulum. At the top end, you can see a sliding brace that keeps the pendulum rigid when attached to the upper part, with the hook just below it enabling attachment and detachment for transportation. Below that, the nuts and bolts that connect the bob containing the lead discs are adjustable up and down to regulate speed.
In the final picture, you can see the movement from the back with the complete pendulum, and the pins holding the replacement leaf spring at the top.
This clock now runs perfectly and keeps very good time. It has five chime bars and a delightful quarter and hourly “Westminster Chime”.
A Very Sad Looking Clock
You can see how sad this clock looked in this “before” picture. It belonged to the great-grandfather of the person who brought it in and is Victorian.
After cleaning, oiling and adjustment, the movement ran well. But what about the sad dial? No solvents affected what appeared to be paint on it, so I had to resort to sanding it back to bare metal and polishing. The dial was then painstakingly hand-painted with acrylic paint using the finest 4/0-number brush, working from a full-scale template enhanced in Photoshop © from a photograph of the dial to draw out the faint numerals.
The dent in the top of the case was pushed out with a spoon, strengthened with a drop of superglue and touched up with a marker to blend in. The glass was glued in and the brass bezel polished. Finally, the clock was regulated to keep good time. The complete restoration took four days.
The person who brought in this clock came back with her mother to collect it. She was overwhelmed to see it restored and working again. She could clearly recall seeing it on her grandfather’s mantelpiece, and remembered that, as a child, she was forbidden to touch it.
If I had known it would take four days to restore, would I have still done this? It depends on workload, but great-grandfather’s clock?
Timeless!
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The Harrogate Repair Café is run by dedicated volunteers with a natural curiosity and a willingness to fix things. They are also mindful of the need to be custodians of Earth’s resources and not needlessly discard things because they are broken. Our volunteers are also aware of the sentimental value of even a mundane-looking object. The Harrogate Repair Café does not charge for these repairs and relies on the dedication of our enthusiastic and skilled volunteers and the donations from our customers to cover our running costs, but in this age these resources are priceless.