There were few wealthier men in the United States than Henry Graves Jr.
Born
into an august banking family, he had spent his life accumulating a
multi-million-dollar fortune by investing shrewdly in railways and
banking.
Like
many rich men, Graves liked to collect objects as well as money. While
most ordinary men collected stamps or coins, he acquired holiday homes,
modern art, motorboats and expensive watches.
His
favourite boat was his 50-foot speedster, the Eagle, on which he liked
to potter around the Upper Saranac Lake in upstate New York.
One afternoon late in 1936, Graves took out the Eagle with his daughter Gwendolen, who found her father in a morose mood.
Her eyes widened when he pulled a large watch out of his pocket and looked at it intensely.
‘Such things bring one nothing but trouble,’ said Graves, who by then was in his late 60s. ‘Notoriety brings bad fortune.’
Gwendolen knew that this was no ordinary timepiece.
It
was the ultimate expression of her father’s obsession with collecting
watches and, in particular, those made by the Swiss firm Patek Philippe.
This
week, that watch broke records at auction when it was sold by Sotheby’s
in Geneva for £13.4 million to an anonymous bidder.
With auction house costs, the mystery buyer will have to fork out a total of £15.1 million.
It comes as no surprise, for the watch is commonly regarded as the most important ever made, the ‘Holy Grail of Horology’.
Graves
had been buying watches from Patek Philippe since 1903, and by 1910 he
had started to commission them. Many were engraved with the family’s
coat of arms.
But he wanted more than mere engravings to make his watches special.
He
wanted his Patek Philippes to be the most complex watches in the world,
including as many ‘complications’ as possible - the horological term
for any feature of a watch that goes beyond simply showing hours,
minutes and seconds.
Such
was his obsession that he started competing with James Ward Packard, a
luxury car manufacturer, to see who could produce the most impressive
timepiece.
Graves
secretly approached Patek Philippe in 1925. He wanted, he insisted,
nothing less than ‘the most complicated watch’ on the planet, one that
was ‘impossibly elaborate’.
What
followed was, in the words of author Stacy Perman in her book A Grand
Complication, ‘a nearly eight-year odyssey’ in which teams of Patek
Philippe’s craftsmen, scientists and engineers did, indeed, create the
most complicated watch made before the age of computer-aided design.
They spent three years researching the project and five years making the watch.
In total, the timepiece — with two clock faces, one on each side — has 24 complications.
One
shows the phases of the Moon, others the times of sunset and sunrise in
New York and even the pattern of the stars each night above Mr Graves’s
apartment in the city.
There are complications revealing the days of the week, an alarm, a stopwatch and a perpetual calendar.
Grave’s masterpiece blew Packard’s out of the water.
Packard
had got there first and his was the first watch to feature a sky chart,
including 500 golden stars, centered above his home in Ohio.
Yet
the masterpiece that became known as the Graves Supercomplication never
brought its owner the pleasure he expected. Far from it.
After
he had taken delivery of it in 1933 at a cost of $15,000 (about
£650,000 at today’s prices) the Supercomplication seemed to bring him
not only unwanted attention but great misfortune - so much so that on
the Eagle on that day in 1936, Graves cut the engine of the boat and
looked from the watch to the water.
‘What is the point of being wealthy and owning such objects if something like this could happen?’ he asked his daughter.
It
was the time of the Great Depression, and Graves had become a figure of
public resentment after people who were starving and destitute
discovered that he could spend thousands on such luxuries.
But the banker believed the watch had brought him far worse than opprobrium in the public prints.
In fact, he became convinced that it had come with a deadly curse.
Just seven months after Graves received the watch, his best friend died. And worse was to come.
In
early November 1934, Graves answered the telephone to be told that his
youngest son, George, had been hurtling in a car down a boulevard in
Pasadena, California, and crashed, killing himself.
The
news was devastating, and made even worse by the fact that Graves had
lost his eldest son, Harry, in a car crash in 1922 when he was just 25
years old.
For
Graves, the Supercomplication was a bad talisman, something that was
meant to have brought him joy but had, instead, ushered in grief and
hateful publicity. At one point he had come close to selling the watch,
but decided against it.
As
the boat bobbed in the water, Gwendolen watched her father pull back
his arm. In his hand was the Supercomplication and he was about to throw
it into the lake.
‘No, Daddy!’ Gwendolen implored. ‘Let me hold on to that. Some day I might want that.’
Graves
slowly let his arm fall to his side. Gwendolen reached forward gingerly
and took the watch from his hand, then put it in her pocket.
With auction costs, the final price
paid by a 'man in a red tie'b at the auction in Geneva, Switzerland, was
£15.1 million - a new world record
From
then on, Gwendolen held on to the watch. Her father lost interest in an
item that he had craved all his life - a life that was to end in 1953,
when he was 86.
After
his death, Gwendolen inherited the Supercomplication and in 1960 passed
it to her son, Reginald ‘Pete’ Fullerton, who sold it to an
industrialist from Illinois for $200,000 — some £1million today.
Until
1999 the watch was displayed in a museum in Illinois, then it was sold
to a private collector by Sotheby’s in New York for $11 million (about
£10 million today).
The auction house will not be drawn on the identities of either the seller or the buyer.
But
both will for ever thank Gwendolen Graves for stopping her father
throwing the world’s most extraordinary timepiece into a cold lake in
upstate New York all those decades ago.
Source: Dailymail
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