I’ve always been intrigued with the many ways that clocks and watches appeal to different collectors and how collectors focus on different aspects of the hobby. For some, “the chase” for rare or undervalued pieces is motivation enough. Others pick up a clock or watch and envision the tools used to create it, or study the works, or the architectural style reflected in the case. I can’t help but think about the difficult conditions in which many of these great craftsmen worked and the historical context that necessarily affected their lives. The chase is often short-lived, but the enjoyment of learning about makers, their legacy, or their conditions, seems to be unending.

The subject of this article is a George Graham automation timepiece. Watch and clock collectors easily recognize this name as one of the few truly great eighteenth-century English makers, and I acquired this piece sight unseen from an older gentleman who honestly, and mistakenly, represented it as such. You can imagine my immediate disappointment upon opening the package from the post and realizing that I was holding a watch that was made long after George Graham’s death in 1751.

Once the shock wore off, I started to study what I had and liked what I saw. The excitement of discovery was on! Depicted on the beautiful hand painted enamel dial is a desert landscape with a medieval castle in the background, and a naval battle with automata of a warship exploding and capsizing in the foreground (Figures 1 and 2). On closer inspection, I could make out the English Union Jack on the ships on the right side of the dial and the French tricolor flag on the ships to the left. A few minutes of searching the Web confirmed my suspicion that this watch was commemorating England’s historic 1798 naval victory over the French fleet in the Battle of the Nile.

 The Watch

By the end of the eighteenth century until about 1830 there was a resurgence in automata popularity, which was fueled in part by the emergence of painted enamel dials. Striking jacks and bells, biblical themes, erotica, turning windmills, and other scenes of everyday life are just a few of the more common automata manifestations that became quite fashionable during this period. Watches commemorating important events and people are also not particularly unusual. Examples can be found where portraits and/or inscriptions are executed on the balance cock, back plate, or case; Nelson and his battles were particularly popular subjects.

This watch is a nicely finished product of Coventry or Liverpool, with verge escapement, cylindrical pillars, winding from the back, and a wonderful dial painting. On the dial side of the front plate is the frame maker or finisher/manufacturer’s mark—a conjoined TE. Unfortunately, Coventry records were destroyed during the bombing raids of WWII and therefore hard evidence to confirm is currently lacking, but it’s very possible that the frame was made in Lancashire and the finishing done in Coventry. I especially like the engraved hand and finger for the Tompion-style regulator and floral balance cock decoration with rosette center instead of diamond endstone. While visually appealing, this timepiece was relatively inexpensive to make and so most likely intended to appeal to citizens of modest means.

Figures 3 and 4 display the back of the movement, which is engraved “George Graham Carr AD 1803.” No serial number is engraved on the watch, however, the date is again repeated on the dust cap, which has a maker’s mark of LF, and is engraved “Forster & Barnard Sheerness AD 1803.” Having a date on the watch is a nice feature and could indicate when the watch was ordered, finished, or perhaps delivered to its first owner. John Forster is known to have worked on clocks from 1790-1823 and Frederick Barnard on watches from 1826-1855. No Forster & Barnard partnership reference could be found and that possibly indicates an informal relationship that involved Barnard or his father. Sheerness is located 50 miles from London at the mouth of the Thames, which would of course have a strong market for watches with seafaring themes.

Baillie and Britten both list George Graham working in the early nineteenth century and it can not be ruled out that a “George Graham” made this watch. Another possibility is that the name was added for marketability, a longstanding practice, especially by continental makers to capitalize on famous makers’ names synonymous with England’s worldwide reputation for quality timekeepers. But 50 years after the death of the celebrated George Graham seems a big stretch and why also engrave “Carr” instead of “London”? In fact, the reference to Carr is also a bit of a mystery. It is not a city name as usual custom, so the possibilities include the name of the first owner, a shortened location name (such as High Carr near Newcastle-upon-Lyme; Carr Shield near Hexham, Northumberland; Carr Cross near Southport, Lancashire; or Carr Vale near Bolsover, Derbyshire), an undocumented maker, or even perhaps a reference to Carr Street in London—all tenuous connections to this watch. Since the practice at the time was to engrave any name the customer desired, a plausible explanation is that George Graham Carr was the first owner of the watch and the piece was ordered through Forster & Bernard to be delivered engraved and dated.

The beautifully executed hand painted enamel is original to the watch, with a style also characteristic of Coventry work. The automation is created by rotating a disk that is pressure-fit upon an elongated arbor of the contrate wheel that protrudes through the front plate. The bridge supporting the contrate wheel is filed thin to provide clearance for the automation disk to rotate under the dial (Figure 5). The disk itself (Figure 6) appears to be made of ivory and portrays three scenes of a warship, presumably the French flagship L’Orient, exploding and capsizing.

The inner silver pair case is also hallmarked for 1803 and carries the case maker’s marks for Thomas Carpenter of London. The outer case is a later replacement. Several interesting repair papers indicate that the watch has been in America for a very long time. The earliest is from John Woltz, Shepherd’s Town, Virginia (Figures 7 and 8). On the back of that paper is written in ink “Mr. John Nixon, 1816 April 16, Main Spring and Cleaning watch $2.50.” It is intriguing to speculate how this watch traveled from England to the oldest town, along the Potomac, in what is now the state of West Virginia.

The Battle

Only nine years after their revolution, the French Republic in 1798 was a confident and far-reaching European power—having survived internal plots and foreign invasion—attempting to restore some form of the old monarchy. France’s army dominated the continent and the last remaining threat, England, was out of reach, due to England’s naval strength and control of the Channel. However, France did have superiority in the Mediterranean and that provided the opportunity for General Napoleon to launch an invasion of Egypt, thereby threatening England’s Arabian trade routes and possibly even the possession of India. It was hoped by the French Directory that at the very least the taking of Egypt would force England to the peace table on favorable terms and bring an end to the long and financially exhausting war.

Upon learning that Napoleon intended to sail from Toulon, the commander in chief of the British fleet, the Earl of St. Vincent, dispatched a naval force led by an up-and-coming Rear Admiral by the name Horatio Nelson to intercept. After months of searching and uncooperative weather, Nelson finally came upon the French warships the evening of August 1, 1798, anchored at Aboukir Bay, east of Alexandria. Weeks earlier, Napoleon’s force of 35,000 men and some 70 troop/supply ships had landed in Egypt and overwhelmed local resistance.

The French fleet was comprised of three 80-gun frigates, nine 74-gun line-of-battle ships, and their massive flagship, the 120-gun L’Orient. These 13 ships were anchored in a defensive line along the sandy bay expecting battle at sun-up, as was the custom. A large shoal provided the French protection from shoreward attack, therefore, all their cannons were facing seaward. Nelson, with 13 74-gun and one 50-gun line-of-battle ships, was outgunned. Although there were only a couple hours of daylight left to navigate the unfamiliar waters, Nelson seized the opportunity to immediately strike. Realizing that spacing existed between the French ships and the shoal, and observing enemy decks unprepared for battle, Nelson attacked. He divided his forces, and four ships of the line managed to split the gap between the shoal and the enemy while others attacked from the seaward side. Nelson’s advantage was decisive. Not only was he able to deliver twice the firepower upon his enemy as he sailed down the French line, but the French warships beyond the action were in an impossible position to sail upwind to address the breach to the shoreward side or assist at the point of attack.

At 10 p.m. fire broke out on the French flagship L’Orient, igniting its massive stores of gunpowder. It has been said the sound of the explosion was heard for 20 miles and pieces of the 15-ton rudder were hurled over half a mile. Such was the magnitude of the explosion that several ships nearby were set on fire due to the falling chunks of fiery debris; fighting temporarily stopped as crews from both sides were awestruck to witness such an event. Fighting gradually picked up again and continued into the next day, but Nelson’s victory was complete; France sustained the worst defeat in their naval history, with 11 warships sunk or captured. Remarkably, no English ships were lost.

With England in control of the Mediterranean, Napoleon’s supply chain was crippled and his Egyptian campaign eventually folded. Of course he later returned to France not as a general but as the Emperor of France, so I suppose things worked out okay for him—at least for a time. Nelson was an instant national hero who went on to solidify his place in naval history. His time would also come to an unfortunate end seven years later at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805. Nelson’s heroism and warfare tactics continue to be studied and admired to this day, but I can only imagine the excitement and pride English subjects must have felt two centuries ago upon learning of victory over the French at the Battle of the Nile. Commemorative objects of all kinds were produced, from pottery to etchings, to celebrate Nelson and his exploits. I think this remarkable watch captures that moment uniquely with its wonderful combination of artistry, technology, and entertainment.

Bibliography

Baillie, G. H. Watchmakers & Clockmakers of the World. London: N.A.G. Press Ltd., 1951.

Britten, F. J. Old Clocks and Watches & Their Makers. London: B. T. Batsford, 1899.

Cardinal, Catherine. The Watch: From Its Origins to the XIXth Century. New York: Tabard Press, 1989.

Chapuis, Alfred and Droz, Yves. Automata: A Historical and Technological Study. New York: Central Book Co., 1958.

Cuss, Camerer. The Camerer Cuss Book of Antique Watches. Antique Collectors Club, 1976.

Cuss, Camerer. The Country Life Book of Watches. London: Country Life Limited, 1967.

Ganczarczyk, Jerzy. “Continental Imitations of 18th Century English Watch Movements.” NAWCC Bulletin, No. 344 (June 2003): p. 302.

Jagger, Cedric. The Artistry of the English Watch. London: Davis and Charles, 1988.

Loomes, Brian. Watchmakers & Clockmakers of the World, Volume 2. London: NAG Press, 1989.

Meis, Reinhard. Pocket Watches from the Pendant Watch to the Tourbillon. West Chester, PA: Schiffer, 1987.

Padfield, Peter. Maritime Power and the Struggle for Freedom. Naval Campaigns that Shaped the Modern World 1788 - 1851. Woodstock, NY: Overlook Press, 2000.

Priestley, Philip T. Watch Case Makers of England: A History and Register of Gold and Silver Watch Case Makers of England 1720-1920. Columbia, PA: NAWCC, Inc., 2004.

Acknowledgments

The author wishes to thank the following people who contributed significant information and assistance in the preparation of this article: Philip Priestley and Ken Johnston (British Horology, Chapter 159), the late Kathleen Pritchard (NAWCC Library and Research Center), David Penney (www.antiquewatchstore.co.uk), and John Griffiths, curator of horology, Prescot Museum. In researching this watch, it became apparent that the literature is full of inaccurate uses of the term “Dutch forgery,” which were not Dutch products at all, but rather Swiss imitations of English watches for the Dutch and other markets. A good article on the subject was published in the June 2003 Bulletin by Dr. Jerzy Ganczarczyk (see Bibliography).

About the Author

Mr. Newman is a member of NAWCC Chicago Chapter 3 and British Horology Chapter 159. He is a collector of a diverse range of British and American clocks, with a special interest in eighteenth-century watches, including pre-mass production American watches. He became interested in clocks and watches at an early age, following in the footsteps of his father. This is his second article for the Bulletin. Mr. Newman can be reached at: rpnewman@yahoo.com.