Step into the world of timeless luxury with these Million-Dollar Pocket Watches That Stunned Antiques Roadshow Experts! From jaw-dropping Patek Philippe masterpieces worth over $1.5 million to rare American railroad pocket watches, each of these incredible timepieces hides a story of wealth, craftsmanship, and history. In this video, we uncover the most expensive and amazing pocket watches ever appraised on Antiques Roadshow, featuring iconic makers, gold and platinum cases, complex movements, breathtaking engravings, and fortunes that left experts speechless. These rare treasures represent the peak of horology, often linked to royalty, captains of industry, and legendary collectors — some even skyrocketing in value at Sotheby’s and Christie’s auctions later on. Whether you love luxury watches, historic watches, or the thrill of a surprise Roadshow appraisal, this video is packed with stunning discoveries, appraisal shockers, and priceless pocket watches that turned out to be worth a fortune! If you enjoy Antiques Roadshow, vintage collectibles, or rare watches, then this is the ultimate countdown that you simply cannot miss!
My father had bought it for my mother back 1970, in that time frame.
My father had been a Shriner and a Mason, and he created a lot of contacts through that.
And so he met Larry Beck, who was the Trophy King of Baltimore, and also a jeweler.
And he would buy his jewelry from Larry.
And so, if there was things that Larry Beck thought my father would be interested in,
he would call him and have him come out and take a look,
which is how I'm pretty sure this watch came to be.
My mother used to wear it as a pin when she would go out to dance or dinner.
Is there another piece to it, then, that made it a pin?
There used to be another piece, but it wasn't part of the watch.
And two jewelers had offered me $2,000 for that.
And I just wasn't ready to sell it at that point.
I just felt like there was something more to that watch than what they were saying.
In the glittering world of fine timepieces, few names command more reverence than Patek Philippe.
And when paired with Tiffany and company, the result is nothing short of legendary.
This platinum pocket watch, made around 1910, embodies that rare partnership.
The watch is platinum, encrusted with diamonds, and inside beats an 18-jewel movement,
signed not only by Patek Philippe, but also by Tiffany and Company,
a mark of their early American franchise.
Most Tiffany watches of that era simply bore the retailer's name,
but this one carried both, elevating it into an elite class of horology.
Even the case tells its own story, crafted in France, finished in 18-carat gold,
and hallmarked with French duty marks.
At its core, this isn't just a timepiece.
It's a convergence of artistry, engineering, and history,
a dazzling reminder of Tiffany's role in bringing the world's finest watches to America.
In today's market, at a retail level, this watch would be in the $13,000 to $15,000 price range.
It's an absolute extraordinary example of a Tiffany Patek.
Wow.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
Oh my goodness. Now I know.
It was given to my father from his grandfather.
I'm next in line to inherit it, and we don't know much about it.
It was appraised in 1991, and they estimated that it was from about 1820, and it's French.
I love the little illustration on the front, and also it plays music, and that's one of the best parts.
This extraordinary French musical pocket watch, made around 1830,
the case itself is crafted from solid 18-karat gold, beautifully engine-turned in the guilloche style.
But what truly sets it apart is its face, porcelain enamel, hand-painted with a harbor scene,
and, most remarkably, an early American flag waving proudly across the dial.
It's a stunning blend of French craftsmanship and American symbolism, a detail that makes it utterly unique.
This is a key-wound, key-set watch.
Fitted with a bullseye crystal you simply can't find today, and hidden within its mechanics lies the true surprise.
It's musical. One barrel powers the watch, while a second barrel drives a tiny music box inside.
It can chime on the hour, or play on command, something the owner only discovered by accident when it suddenly began to sing.
We're going to play this right now.
What did you think the value of it was?
When it was appraised in 1991, they estimated about $2,500.
A musical watch in gold today, a nice example of one, would probably bring somewhere between $5,000 and $8,000.
But we have this spectacular face on this watch.
It's a harbor scene. It's flawless.
An auction value today I would put on it, with all these features on it,
I think this watch would easily bring between $15,000 and $20,000.
Wow. That is quite the shock. It's been in the safety deposit for like 20 years.
So, wow. That's great. Thank you.
The dial, that's the first one I've ever seen like that on a musical watch like this, so it's quite nice.
As a grade schooler, my father had given it to me.
It was originally my great-grandfather's pocket watch.
And it's been in the family since he bought it.
I'm not sure when that was, although it was probably before 1900.
When my father first gave it to me, I used it as my timepiece in grade school,
and fell playing football and busted the crystal on it.
The crystal was replaced, and after that, it's been in the safe ever since.
On the dial, the name Spalding and Company appears.
Not the maker, but the retailer.
Behind it lies one of the greatest names in horology, Patek Philippe, crafted around 1900.
At the time, Patek's finest watches were often sold through prestigious houses
like Tiffany, Bailey Banks, and Biddle, and Spalding, whose names were placed on the dial.
But this isn't just any Patek.
It carries two of the rarest complications.
First, a minute repeater.
A slide mechanism that chimes the exact time down to the minute.
Perfect for the days before electricity, when reading the dial in the dark wasn't possible.
Second, a split-second chronograph, allowing two times to be measured independently.
Ideal for timing horse races or other competitions.
Individually, either feature would make the watch remarkable.
Combined in a single case, and in such an unusually small size,
they elevated into the realm of the exceptional.
For an auction value, I expect you'd probably fetch in the region of around $20,000 for it.
My goodness.
I wouldn't play football with it again.
No, I don't think so.
I brought a pocket watch. It's wooden metal from Van Cleef & Arpels.
I got it from my great-uncle Barney,
and he and my great-aunt Tiny had a dry-cleaning store in Beverly Hills, Hollywood,
back in the 1930s and 40s.
And they had several famous people as customers.
One of them happened to be Joseph von Sternberg,
who was the director for almost all of Marlene Dietrich's films.
And so he went over to Europe on vacation one year,
and came back with this pocket watch, which he gave to Uncle Barney.
They did such a great job in their dry-cleaning establishment
that he was very appreciative and wanted to show them that.
Van Cleef & Arpels, a French maison celebrated for its jewelry worn by Hollywood's elite,
was at its creative peak in the Art Deco era.
Their work blended luxury with bold design, always marked by exceptional quality.
While the firm often created small jeweled purse watches for women,
this is something rarer, a man's pocket watch.
Fashioned partly in wood, an unusual and delicate material seldom seen in such pieces.
Its manual wind Swiss movement shows the precision inside,
while the Art Deco styling reveals the glamour of its time.
Few examples like this have survived,
making it a treasure not only of fine watchmaking, but of Hollywood history itself.
Retail on this watch would be about $4,000.
Oh, okay, awesome. Awesome, that's very nice.
This watch was handed down from my great-grandfather.
He was the owner of the St. Paul Pioneer Press and Dispatch back in 1914,
when he received this watch, and it was handed down from him to my father, and then he gave it to me.
At first glance, it was already remarkable.
An 18-carat gold case, a split-second chronograph,
and a minute repeater that chimes the time down to the minute.
Flip it over, and the complications multiply.
Day, date, month, moon phase, and even a perpetual calendar that adjusts for leap year.
A marvel of engineering tucked into a gentleman's pocket.
Have you had any appraisals?
I had an appraisal done probably 15 years ago.
They told me at that time it was probably worth about $6,000.
They were a little low.
Were they?
Yes.
Patek Philippe is now purchasing those watches for their museum.
This watch at auction, I suspect, would bring close to a quarter million dollars.
No.
Yes.
A quarter million?
This is one incredible watch.
I've never held a watch like this in my hand.
What? You're kidding.
That is one incredible watch.
It can't be.
Yes.
No way.
That is an incredible watch.
I can't believe it.
It's the finest watch I've ever held in my hand.
Are you serious?
I've never seen anything like it other than photos.
Oh, my gosh. How do I get it home?
Carefully. Do not drop it.
That is unbelievable.
Keep it in a safe deposit box.
Well, that's where I have had it all this time.
Oh, my gosh. That is incredible.
It was a gift from my father.
My father grew up in Greenwich, Connecticut.
It was given to him from a neighbor.
His neighbor was a civil engineer.
And his neighbor also ran a radio repair shop in his basement.
And my dad helped him repair radios.
And he actually told me that this man inspired him to go on to MIT.
And so it's really special.
This 1904 Smith & Son pocket watch was affectionately called the King of Spain watch.
The name wasn't just a nickname.
Engraved inside was proof.
Smith & Son. London.
Makers to the Admiralty.
And to His Majesty, the King of Spain.
The case alone speaks of prestige.
Crafted in heavy 18-carat gold by famed casemaker Frederick Toms,
it weighs nearly 3 ounces.
But the real marvel lies inside.
A tourbillon escapement.
Invented by Abraham-Louis Breguet,
the tourbillon was designed to defeat gravity itself.
By spinning the escapement once every 60 seconds,
it neutralized errors in timekeeping caused by gravity's pull,
producing a level of precision few timepieces could ever match.
This watch also features a power reserve indicator,
showing exactly when it needed winding,
an innovation far ahead of its time.
And though the dial bears only a faint hairline crack,
the mechanics remain extraordinary,
a true testament to English mastery.
While a typical Smith & Son watch of this era might bring $4,000 to $5,000,
the inclusion of a tourbillon changes everything.
This watch in the present market would retail between $40,000 to $50,000.
Oh my gosh, you're kidding.
No.
Wow, I had no idea.
I better be careful with it.
This tourbillon escapement is still rare today,
and it's made for very collectible watches.
Let's take an example of like a Patek Philippe wristwatch.
A strap, Patek Philippe 18-carat gold.
Retail price, let's say, is around $20,000.
That same watch with a tourbillon escapement would retail by Patek Philippe
between $200,000 and $250,000.
Oh, wow.
So it's something really wonderful to have and very special.
That's amazing.
Well, I knew it was a special watch, but I didn't know how special.
Sometimes a watch is more than a timekeeper.
It's a window into history, culture, and even survival.
This Swiss automaton pocket watch,
crafted around 1815 in the watchmaking town of Fleurieu,
was never meant for Europe.
Instead, it was designed for the Chinese export market,
where elaborate enamel decoration and mechanical wonders were especially prized.
On its back once gleamed a ring of pearls framing delicate floral enamel work.
Those pearls, however, vanished during one of history's darkest upheavals,
the Chinese Cultural Revolution.
When the watch was confiscated by the communists,
miraculously, it was later returned to the family,
though stripped of its jewels,
making its survival all the more extraordinary.
The front holds the real magic,
a painted enamel dial depicting Cupid's Forge,
a mythological scene brought to life not just in art, but in motion.
This is an automaton watch,
a masterpiece where tiny moving figures animate the scene,
blending mythology, artistry, and horology into one marvel.
For collectors, such pieces remain among the most desirable of all pocket watches.
We think that if you had to insure it,
you should think in terms of $35,000 perhaps to $40,000.
It's quite a nice watch,
and you should be very happy that it survived,
and I'm delighted to hear the story of the watch.
Thank you.
In the windswept coal town of Cumberland, Wyoming,
a place that has since vanished into ghost town silence,
a coal miner gave his wife a gift of lasting brilliance,
a 14-carat gold Elgin pocket watch purchased in 1924.
Miraculously, it looks as though it has barely been touched in the century since.
The family still holds the original sales receipt,
an extraordinary survival that lists both the serial number of the movement
and the model number of the case.
The watch itself is a miniature jewel box.
Its scalloped edges shimmer with alternating colors of gold.
A diamond gleams at the center,
and the back remains smooth, never engraved with initials.
It came with a double chain and slide,
the cork inside still intact,
suggesting it was never truly used.
This allowed a woman to wear it long or shorten it stylishly,
the watch dangling gracefully at her side.
Elgin was a trusted American brand,
and this 15-jewel movement,
though not railroad-grade,
was a fine example of their craftsmanship.
Even more remarkable than its design is its condition.
Unlike so many timepieces worn down by daily use,
this one seems preserved in amber.
This is just an absolute work of art,
and it's brand new from 100 years ago,
literally 100 years as of a month ago.
The value today in the retail marketplace for the two pieces combined
would be about $4,500.
Wow.
The chain, because of the weight of the chain
and the fact that it's handmade,
would appeal to lots of people that would have their own watches,
so the chain is probably worth about $3,000,
and the watch itself is about $1,500,
so that's how you would combine to get $4,500.
Thank you.
Have you ever worn it?
I have not.
It doesn't appear anyone ever wore it.
That's the good thing, I guess.
It's a pocket watch that's been in my family
for a number of generations, maybe three, four.
It came over with my ancestors from Germany or Austria,
someplace in there.
At first glance, its sheer size demands attention.
The outer shell is crafted from tortoise shell,
inlaid with tiny silver pique nail heads,
not just decorative but protective.
Beneath that lies a second shield of nickel silver,
and only after lifting these layers does the watch itself appear.
A true triple-cased marvel.
The maker's name, George Pryor of London, gleams on the movement.
Known for his finely finished watches,
Pryor often began with raw Swiss ebauche movements,
then elevated them with rich engraving and delicate piercing.
This example, dated around 1800 to 1820,
bears the hallmarks of the era,
right down to its pierced balance cock.
But what truly sets it apart lies on its face.
The dial is adorned with Champlivet enamel numerals,
carved out and filled with color.
Look closer, and you'll see those triangular numerals
are not European at all.
They were designed for the Islamic market,
where such watches were highly prized.
London-made, but destined for the Middle East,
this piece embodies the global trade of its time.
Today, collectors value these exotic exports more than ever.
They're very desirable today.
They're back in vogue.
Current market at auction, I would say,
this would probably sell in the range of $8,000 to $10,000.
Wow.
Not bad, huh?
Yeah.
Well, I've brought this little watch
that my husband acquired years ago.
Was designed specifically for the Chinese market around 1850.
Though its journey began in London,
where its gold case bears clear English hallmarks,
its destination was far across the seas.
In the mid-19th century,
European watchmakers competed fiercely
to supply wealthy Chinese clients with dazzling timepieces.
Every detail had to impress,
and this watch succeeds brilliantly.
The back is a work of art in itself,
a panel of luminous enamel,
framed by a delicate ring of natural pearls.
Together, they transformed what might have been
an ordinary timekeeper into a jewel-like object of luxury,
designed as much for beauty as for precision.
A watch like this in today's market,
probably at a show, would sell outright for about $5,000.
My goodness.
I'm really amazed at that.
My grandfather was the first mate on the Fredonia.
They had left Vail and were coming to Boston,
and they were 900 miles out from Boston,
and they came across the gratitude of Liverpool,
and she was taking on water,
and she had, I think, 315 passengers.
So they jettisoned their cargo,
which was thousands and thousands of crates of oranges,
and they took on the passengers.
The citizens of Boston raised the money to cover the cargo
because the insurance wouldn't pay for it,
because the captain of the Fredonia, Edmund Burke,
was very, very popular, and they came to bat for him.
But the best part is, Queen Victoria's government
presented my grandfather, who was first mate,
with this in commemoration.
Known as a demi-hunter,
it features a small circular window in the cover,
allowing the time to be read without fully opening the case,
a practical yet elegant design.
Inside lies a classic white enamel dial,
but the true treasure is the inscription
engraved on the back.
Presented by Her Majesty's Government
to Jacob Best Davis,
first mate of the Fredonia of Gibraltar
for his humanity to upwards of 300 persons,
rescued from the gratitude of Liverpool in January 1866.
Even the chain carries meaning,
crafted in the form of a nautical anchor link,
a subtle tribute to the sea.
So now we get to the value.
Just in the chain, there's almost $2,500, $3,000.
Oh, my goodness.
And there's that much value also in the watch.
Oh, my goodness.
So I think a fair auction estimate
would be $4,000 to $6,000.
Wow.
Well, it's a watch that has been handed down
through my family from an ancestor named William Cooper.
He became the Supreme Grand Commander
of the Sovereign Grand Council
of the Ancient and Accepted Rites
of the Skies Freemasonry,
the Prince Hall Division of New Jersey.
It eventually went down to,
passed down to my great-great-uncle
right here, William Davis,
and I think that's the watch fob right there that you can see,
and he eventually willed it to my father.
So has it just been sitting in the bank,
not really being used?
It's been sitting in a safe for a long time,
but every once in a while, we pull it out to enjoy it.
Cooper was among the first 33rd-degree
African-American Freemasons in his commandery,
making him a pioneering figure
in this powerful brotherhood.
The inscription inside, dated December 11, 1876,
immortalizes that moment.
The watch itself is crafted in 18-karat gold,
complete with a chain, fob,
and even a retractable gold pencil,
all preserved in virtually unused condition
after nearly a century and a half.
The most striking detail
is the engraved crest of the 33rd degree,
a symbol of the highest level of Masonic achievement.
This makes the watch a rarity,
not just in horology,
but also in African-American history.
It would easily sell
in the $6,000 to $7,000 price range at auction.
Wow.
Although, since obviously it's been in your family
for many, many generations,
you would want to have an insurance appraisal
at least in the $10,000 price range.
This is just an unbelievably gorgeous watch
with an unbelievably fabulous provenance.
That's fantastic.
Some watches don't just keep time.
They keep tradition.
This Dudley Masonic pocket watch,
made in the 1920s,
is one of those rare pieces
where craftsmanship and symbolism come together.
It originated with the Dudley Watch Company
of Lancaster, Pennsylvania,
founded by a former Hamilton Watch Company employee
with a singular vision,
to design watches specifically for Freemasons.
Every part of this watch
was built with Masonic identity in mind.
On the surface, you see a bold radiating dial,
clean and elegant,
but it's inside where the magic lies.
The movement itself,
the very gears and plates that power the watch,
were crafted in the shape of Masonic symbols,
the square, compass,
and other emblems central to the Brotherhood.
This wasn't hidden decoration.
It was a statement of identity,
visible to anyone who opened the case.
For a Mason, owning one was more than status.
It was belonging.
This example is especially desirable
because it's one of the company's first editions,
created shortly after their break from Hamilton.
Even better, it survives in remarkable condition
and still comes with its original keystone-shaped box,
a collector's dream.
Because it's in great condition,
comes with the original keystone box,
it's the kind of thing every collector would love.
I think at retail,
this would probably find its way
in the range of about $6,000.
Terrific. Great. Thank you.
Few names in watchmaking
carry the same weight as Breguet.
Founded in the late 1700s
by the legendary Abraham-Louis Breguet,
the house became synonymous
with innovation, elegance, and precision.
Napoleon, Queen Marie Antoinette,
and generations of royalty and scientists
prized Breguet's creations,
not just as timekeepers,
but as marvels of engineering.
This particular pocket watch,
crafted around 1935,
carries forward that tradition.
At first glance,
it looks refined and understated,
with the clean, timeless lines Breguet is known for.
But the secret lies in its mechanics.
As the appraiser demonstrates,
the watch has a fascinating flip mechanism,
a design that requires remarkable craftsmanship
and precision to function seamlessly.
It's the kind of subtle complication
that reveals just how advanced Breguet's engineers were,
even in the early 20th century.
Do you know what it's worth? Any idea?
Oh, no idea. No.
Anywhere from $10,000 to $18,000.
Nice watch.
Oh, I would say it's more than nice.
Oh, my goodness.
My husband will just be thrilled.
That's so exciting.
Some items on Antiques Roadshow
carry not only beauty and craftsmanship,
but also the weight of survival.
This small gold lady's pocket watch,
dated around 1875,
is one such piece.
At first glance, it is a demi-hunter,
with numbers engraved in gold on the outside,
so the time could be read without opening the cover.
But inside, it holds something extraordinary,
a hand-engraved portrait
of the owner's great-great-great-grandfather,
perfectly etched in stunning detail.
The watch is paired with a family album,
a book of photographs and history,
created in Berlin by a Supreme Court judge,
the guest's grandfather.
Forced into early retirement when Hitler rose to power,
he compiled the family story
so it would not be lost.
When his son, just 14 years old,
left Germany alone,
he smuggled the watch and the book with him,
two relics of a life and a family
about to be torn apart.
The family's wealth and possessions were stripped away,
many seized outright by the Nazis.
But this book and this watch survived,
carrying the family's memory across generations.
For the guest,
they are priceless testaments
to endurance and remembrance.
In terms of a value, here on the watch
and here on the book,
you might see something like this
having a value of $2,000.
These are important, historic things,
and they're really phenomenal.
My father's pocket watch,
and he wore it every day that I can possibly remember,
and it has this little leather thong on it.
He was a cattle rancher down out of Ritzville,
and he wore it on his belt loop in his pocket,
and he didn't wear a regular watch
because he worked so hard
that he would break a regular watch
like in three or four days.
So he wore it always when he was like baling hay
or driving tractor or throwing calves.
Made by the Waltham Watch Company of Massachusetts,
a name synonymous with American watchmaking,
this piece was no ordinary timekeeper.
It was a railroad watch,
built for accuracy and reliability.
Its bold Arabic numerals and subsidiary second hand
made it easy to read,
but what sets it apart is the wind indicator dial,
a rare feature that showed exactly how much power was left,
ensuring it never stopped unexpectedly.
Inside, the quality reveals itself further.
23 jewels, a six-position movement,
and even a diamond end stone,
a luxury far above the synthetic rubies most watches used.
It was, in every sense, a top-of-the-line model.
Though the rancher used it daily,
bumping and banging it through long days of labor,
the watch has survived in remarkable condition.
If you have to go out and buy this watch again today,
I feel you would have to pay somewhere between $3,000 and $5,000.
Holy Toledo!
Woo-hoo!
That's wonderful!
You're kidding!
I'm not kidding, you know.
I mean, he banged this thing around every single day
on this thong just tied to his...
This is wonderful!
Thank you!
I'm so glad you're happy.
Oh, I love it! Thank you so much!
You're welcome.
It's been in my family for generations.
It was supposedly made by my great-great-great-grandfather,
and it was handed down to my grandfather,
and then to my father, and to me.
Supposedly, it was made with Jules Jergesen.
I think he was a jeweler from Massachusetts.
The watch was on display in Massachusetts for a long time.
Other than that, I have very little history about it
other than what's in the letter.
So, the letter was written, you believe, somewhere in the 1940s?
Late 1940s.
And the signature at the bottom is your grandfather's signature.
That would be my grandfather's signature.
This is a masterpiece of horology,
loaded with complications that only the finest watches carried.
It features a perpetual calendar,
tracking the days of each month,
and even adjusting for leap years.
It includes a minute repeater,
chiming the time down to the minute in a cascade of tones.
A moon phase dial adds celestial beauty,
while a chronometer function allows precise timing.
And all of this is housed in a heavy, gleaming 18-carat gold case
with an exhibition back that proudly reveals its intricate movement.
If it was not made by Jules Jergesen,
the value on the retail market would be in the $25,000 to $30,000 price range.
Wow.
Now, underneath the dial and on some of the plates of the movement,
a lot of times there are secret signatures.
It probably would be worth spending a little money
and having an expert watchmaker disassemble the watch
to see if there is anything underneath the dials.
If there happens to be the JJ mark of Jules Jergesen,
that could double the price of the watch.
Okay.
I brought this pocket watch that I bought at the garage sale
several months ago.
I asked the guy if he had any jewelry,
and he told me he has a gold watch,
and he'll sell it to me if the price will be right.
I didn't know anything about pocket watch, like none whatsoever.
So I was like, no, maybe like $300, $350.
And he said, like he thought it was too little,
so he said he will sell it to me for $400.
So I decided, okay, where else I can buy gold watch for $400?
So I bought it.
This is a Waltham Watch Company pocket watch crafted in 1880.
Its case is made of 18-karat solid gold,
unusually heavy and richly decorated with engraved birds and flowers.
Adding to its uniqueness,
the case blends multicolored gold with delicate platinum applique,
a level of ornamentation rarely found on American watches of the time.
But the story doesn't end there.
Although built in America,
this case carries English import marks,
showing it was crafted specifically for the British market.
That transatlantic connection makes it even more desirable among collectors.
Despite being more than 140 years old,
the condition is extraordinary,
shining with the same brilliance it had when it first left Waltham's workshop.
The guest admitted he hoped it might be worth around $600.
Instead, the appraiser revealed the truth.
I'm happy to tell you in today's market at auction,
this watch would bring between $1,600 and $2,000.
Oh, wow. Oh, that's wonderful.
That's wonderful.
My grandfather sat me down as a girl and told me about this.
It belonged to his uncle,
who was the Speaker of the Assembly in Wisconsin in the 1880s,
and the watch was given to him in appreciation from colleagues in the State Assembly.
The watch itself was crafted by L.C. Grandjean,
a Swiss watchmaker renowned for precision and luxury.
By the late 19th century,
Swiss timepieces were already considered the finest in the world,
admired for their technical brilliance and exquisite craftsmanship.
To receive one was not just an honor,
it was a statement of stature.
Nearly 130 years later,
the watch remains in the family,
safeguarded and remembered through the stories
passed down from grandfather to granddaughter.
Its gold case still shines with the aura of distinction,
a reminder of the prestige tied to both the office and the maker.
When brought to the roadshow,
the guest was simply cherishing it as a family treasure.
But the appraiser delivered an eye-opening revelation.
A retail value on this piece is going to be about $12,000.
Oh my goodness!
This is a pocket watch that belonged to my late husband's great-grandfather,
and he was an inventor who lived in Cleveland,
and his inventions mainly had to do with the steelmaking industry,
and he had a number of patents and a number of other inventions.
What makes this pocket watch so extraordinary isn't just the name Patek Philippe,
already known then as the pinnacle of Swiss watchmaking.
It's the completeness of its history.
The watch survives in its original box,
with the bill of sale, warranty,
and even a letter describing its brilliance.
That bill of sale reveals an astonishing detail.
In 1889, this masterpiece cost $450,
about the same as buying an automobile back then.
And what a machine it is!
A stem wound lever escapement,
35 jewels,
a minute repeater,
and a split-second chronograph,
features that made it one of the finest timekeepers of its day.
The back carries Wellman's monograph,
a personal mark of prestige,
while the movement itself is a marvel of gears and levers working in harmony.
As the letter accompanying it put so eloquently,
there is a striking contrast between the heavy industrial machines Wellman built
and this delicate little instrument.
Yet both were born from the same pursuit of perfection.
At its time, really, just about the best that money could buy.
I think in today's marketplace, this watch is worth probably in the area,
for auction purposes, between $15,000 and $20,000.
It's a treat to see it.
It's really quite spectacular.
Well, thank you very much.
This is a pocket watch that I bought at an antique shop in London.
From what I know about it, it was made mid-1800s, give or take.
It was made to commemorate the restoration of the British crown,
the 200th anniversary of that.
So the movement inside is very special,
carved in the shape of the British crown.
And then it was meant to be presented to the royal family,
but for some reason never was, changed hands a few times,
and then ended up in this antique shop.
Fascinating story.
Can you tell me how much you paid for it and when you did purchase it?
A thousand pounds, and I bought it about 15 years ago.
Its presence is commanding.
A massive 18-carat gold case,
the word chronometer engraved inside,
marking it as a high-precision instrument.
But open the back, and its true wonder is revealed.
The movement itself is carved in the shape of a crown,
set with ruby jewels and decorative stones,
a work of art hidden within.
More than beauty, it represents technical mastery.
This watch features a detent chronometer escapement,
a mechanism so refined it releases power in fractions of a second,
ensuring unmatched accuracy.
Even rarer still, it holds a blue helical hairspring,
a spiral rising in three dimensions instead of lying flat,
an innovation reserved for only the finest chronometers.
Although its rumored royal connection can't be proven,
its quality speaks for itself.
A one-of-a-kind commission,
unmatched in its precision and elegance.
A one-of-a-kind watch when it was produced initially.
Right.
Do you have any idea of value, or have you got a good buy?
Honestly, I would never sell it, even if I did have a good offer,
but I mean, I hope that it's worth at least as much as I paid for it.
For insurance value in today's market,
I would put a value of $10,000 on the watch.
Oh, wow.
Yeah, wonderful piece.
And a good buy.
You've made a very good buy.
Yeah, thank you so much.
When it comes to American watchmaking,
few names loom larger than Waltham.
But among the millions of watches they produced,
one model stood above the rest.
The Premier Maximus, the crown jewel of their craft.
This example, passed down as a simple family watch,
is far more than just an heirloom.
Made in 1908,
it represents the very highest grade that Waltham ever achieved.
Each Premier Maximus came equipped with a power reserve indicator,
a feature that told its owner exactly how many hours of life remained
before the next winding was needed.
A small detail, but one that elevated this timepiece
into a league of precision normally reserved for Europe's finest.
The movement was sold separately,
and wealthy buyers could then choose cases to match.
But here lies something even more remarkable.
The case itself is 18-carat white gold,
crafted by the Wadsworth Case Company.
That alone makes it exceedingly rare,
as most were produced in yellow or rose gold.
Despite being over a century old,
this watch has survived in excellent condition,
a testament to both its craftsmanship
and the care of the family who owned it.
Today, collectors recognize the Premier Maximus
as one of Waltham's most ambitious achievements.
This watch at auction would easily bring between $5,000 to $6,000.
Wow! That's very nice.
The story is that Pontuvia killed a man in Mexico City
and took the watch off of him.
Then he ended up in Alpine, Texas,
where he traded this watch to Mr. Kassner
for a brand-new Buick automobile.
Mr. Kassner sold it to a Dr. Middlebrook from Del Rio, Texas.
My father told the doctor,
if you ever want to sell that watch,
please give me first chance at it.
Dr. Middlebrook died several years later,
and his widow called my father, and my father bought the watch.
And he never would tell anybody what he paid for it.
Now, I cannot prove any of this, and believe me, I've tried.
While the story remains unproven,
the watch itself tells enough history to inspire awe.
On the dial is the name La Esmeralda,
a prestigious jewelry store in Mexico City from that era.
The case, crafted in 18-karat gold and adorned with rose diamonds,
bears the initials of its original owner,
and accompanying it is a matching fob charm and chain,
also in gold, set with diamonds throughout.
But the true marvel lies inside.
This is no ordinary timepiece.
It's a Swiss chronograph with multiple complications.
It tracks the moon phase, the days of the month,
and functions as a stopwatch, all powered by intricate mechanisms.
Even more, it features a minute repeater,
a device once nicknamed the blind man's function,
allowing its owner to hear the time through delicate chimes.
Altogether, the watch, fob, and chain
form a complete and original set of exceptional quality.
Would you have a guess as to how much this watch might be worth?
No idea. That's what I'm doing here.
Somewhere between $30,000 and $50,000.
Would it be worth more if I could prove this story?
Definitely, definitely.
That's what I thought. I've tried.
But it is possible from the serial number of the watch
to find out for whom it was originally ordered
and trace the story back that way.
That'll be a nice job for you, Fred.
It takes some time.
Thank you very much for coming and showing us this fabulous watch.
Thank you. Thank you, everybody.
Thank you, everybody. It was fun.
It's a piece we found in our home.
And when we moved in and we were living there for a few years,
my husband was cleaning the ductwork in the basement.
And there was two pieces.
There was this piece and another piece along with this,
another gold piece.
And they were laid perfectly up on the ductwork in the basement.
And he was up there cleaning, and he found it.
At first glance, the watch appeared with a gold chain,
though testing revealed the chain was only gold-filled.
But the real prize was the watch itself.
Opening the case revealed the name Vacheron Constantin,
one of the oldest and most prestigious watchmakers in the world,
a house founded back in 1775.
What made this piece extraordinary was its triple signature.
The dial, the case, and the movement each bore the Vacheron Constantin name,
confirming its authenticity and high status.
Crafted entirely in 18-carat gold,
the watch dated to around 1880 to 1890,
placing it firmly in the golden age of European horology.
Elegant hands, finely detailed movement,
and its pristine condition all marked it as a product of master craftsmanship.
While the guest assumed it might have been from the 1960s,
the appraisal revealed it was nearly a century older.
It's a very, very special watch, so you have no idea on the value.
No, nothing, nothing.
So in a retail store, this watch would sell for approximately $3,000.
Oh, wow.
It starts with my grandfather.
He was actually born to a very wealthy family in Finland.
The farm was to go to him,
but he was always teased about being this kid with a golden spoon,
and he decided to leave everything that would have gone to him
and came to America with nothing.
Came up to central Minnesota, found a farm that he liked,
agreed to buy it, and headed out west to make money to get the down payment.
And he worked out there for several years in the mines,
ended up in the redwoods in California, cutting redwoods.
And then as he worked back, he came across somebody that had this watch.
And so some of his money converted to this watch, and I'm not sure how much,
got back to Minnesota, the fellow that had the farm
had sold the lakeshore property off of it.
So he bought another farm a couple miles away, which is where we're at now,
and was able to keep the watch.
The watch itself is remarkable.
Crafted in 14-carat variegated gold,
it blends yellow, green, pink, and white tones in elaborate engravings.
Its box-hinged design gives it a bold, square look,
while a porcelain dial with Roman numerals reflects classic railroad styling.
Even the hands are ornate, not plain.
Inside, the movement features two-tone damascening,
a rare decoration of gold and silver engine turning,
a small old mine-cut diamond adds yet another flourish.
N. Gamse, a New York retailer, was known for ordering only the finest extras
from major American watchmakers like Illinois, Elgin, and Waltham.
The Globe was one of his models, built for clients who demanded more than ordinary.
Back in the 1930s, when the family faced hard times,
this watch was appraised at $300, a fortune then.
I would say at auction today, this watch would be $4,000 to $6,000.
It'll stay on the farm.
I brought an old pocket watch that I had in my dress drawer for years.
My dad sold it to me 40 years ago for $100, and I've had it ever since.
Okay, do you have any idea where he got it?
He got it from his sister that lives in Mobile.
She gave it to him as a present.
Dating back to the 1880s to 1890s, this is no ordinary watch.
It's a large 18-size case built with a full box hinge on both sides
and decorated with an elaborate stag motif, very much in fashion for its time.
What sets it apart, though, is its dial.
Unlike the plain porcelain dials seen on most pocket watches,
this one is richly adorned, designed to match the extravagance of its case.
The watch carries the name Philadelphia, not of its maker, but the retailer who sold it.
The actual movement was likely made by Elgin or Waltham,
but assembled in Philadelphia and given the jeweler's name,
a common practice in 19th-century America.
The case itself is breathtaking, crafted with four colors of gold,
yellow, rose, green, and white, meticulously layered and hand-worked into a dazzling finish.
Back in the 1880s, it would have cost between $200 and $300, a small fortune then.
A watch like this on a retail level in a really fine store would probably run around $4,000 in today's market.
Well, that's all right. I made out, didn't I?
Yes, you did. A lot of the stuff in the last few years, because of the gold price going up,
people melted watches like this just for money. It's kind of sad.
When I got it fixed, the jeweler told me it had at least $500 worth of gold in it.
Now, gold's probably triple. In today's market, it's a couple thousand dollars worth of gold.
It's a 14-carat American case.
Well, it'll be around the house for a while.
This pocket watch belonged to my father-in-law.
He was a local businessman here in Knoxville and operated his business for 30-some-odd years as a blind person, legally blind.
He suffered from retinitis, so he progressively, from his 20s on, lost sight.
It was in his collection when he died. He died of leukemia when he was 65 years old.
His wife, my mother-in-law, gave it to me.
At first glance, it's a handsome 14-carat solid gold case,
paired with a matching gold chain, porcelain dial, and bold Arabic numerals.
Its clean elegance reflects fine Swiss craftsmanship.
But hidden inside is something remarkable.
This isn't just a watch. It's a minute repeater.
With a slide on the side, the mechanism can chime the hours and minutes aloud,
allowing its owner to tell time by sound rather than sight.
Made around 1925, the watch carries the name Wittnauer,
a respected Swiss brand that later partnered with Longins.
Interestingly, the dial also bears the marks of Huguenin Breguet,
indicating collaboration among multiple prestigious Swiss houses
to bring this timepiece to market.
For its original owner, who could no longer rely on his vision,
this complication wasn't just a marvel of engineering.
It was a lifeline, turning the passing hours into music he could hear.
In today's market, this watch with the gold chain,
a retail price should bring about $7,500.
Holy!
Yes.
Wow!
Yeah.
It's going to stay in the family, so the value is secondary,
but it certainly is a surprise.
My wife bought a file cabinet at a thrift shop here in El Paso
about 10 or 11 years ago.
And the cabinet happened to be locked when we got it,
so we took it home and got a locksmith to open it.
And I was digging around in it, trying to see what was in it
and make sure all the slides and stuff worked.
I heard a clunk and looked back at the slides in one of the drawers
and there was the watch.
Dating to around 1860 to 1870,
the watch carries the name George Reynolds of Liverpool,
a respected English maker whose pieces were often destined
for the South American market.
Though English in movement, its ornate casework is likely Swiss,
and it's adorned with one of the most eye-catching details of the era,
a multicolored gold dial and intricate serpent-shaped hands.
The back reveals a beautifully engine-turned design,
unusually crisp given how many examples have worn down
over the past 150 years.
To set the time, the owner would hinge the front open
and use a small key, an ingenious system of the mid-19th century.
Inside lies a dust cover protecting the finely signed movement.
The sheer artistry, down to the winding hole in the reverse
and the sinuous serpent hands,
shows this wasn't just a tool for telling time.
It was a work of precision and beauty,
meant to impress as much as it was to function.
I think at auction a watch like this is going to sell for about $2,500.
Oh, that's nice. That's nice.
Thank you so much for watching this journey
through the most extraordinary pocket watches ever seen
on Antiques Roadshow.
If you enjoyed this, you'll definitely want to keep exploring.
Click on the video about legendary swords
appearing on your screen right now,
or dive into the world of incredible antique necklaces
in the other video beside it.