Hamilton

 By Bruce Shawkey

Found this interesting watch in a 1964 issue of Europa Star Magazine:

The watch is part of Hamilton's "Pan Europe' series which included time-only and chronographs models.

Hamilton was founded in Lancaster, Pennsylvania in 1892 and began producing pocket watches.

Hamilton factory, Lancaster, PA

The Hamilton factory still stands, converted into apartments and condominiums. I knew one of the last CEOs of Hamilton, John Gelson. When the Hamilton factory closed, Doctor Robert Ravel bought the remaining contents of the factory, including the watchmaking machinery, which had to be hauled away in several semitrailers.

Several of my favorite models are shown below:

Hamilton is now a Swiss company, owned by Swatch Group. The last American Hamilton rolled off the assembly line in 1969 and was an electric watch. Many famous Americans wore Hamilton watches, including Elvis Presley, Harrison Ford, and Marlene Dietrich. 

Here's a watch that was supplied for the movie "2001: A Space Odyssey:

The buttons on the bottom are non-fuctional.

The Hamilton Nordon was introduced in 1948, one of a first generation of water resistant watches, sealed (or "CLD" as Hamilton called it) against moisture. It was produced through the 1952 model year, at which point it was retired.

Some believe the Nordon was named after the inventor of a bombsight device used by the Army Air Force during WWII to more accurately drop bombs from airplanes. But his name was Carl Norden, spelled with an "e" at the end instead of an "o." So we really don't know for whom or what the Nordon was named.

The Nordon was part of a collection of rather plain looking round watches introduced just before and just after the war. These include the Sentinel, Norde, Langdon, Secometer, Secometer B, and Secometer C. These seven watches (including the Nordon), are so similar that after 30 years in the business, I still get them confused with one another. A fellow collector recently turned me on to a little "trick" to quickly differentiate the CLD models from the others: Most all CLD models end with the letters "ON." Think about it: NorDON, BelDON, LynDON, RearDON, etc. The only exceptions are the "Lange" which is the 14 kt version of the "Langdon," and the "Norde" which is the 14 kt. Nordon. I love to know what the executives at Hamilton were thinking when they came up with this naming strategy!

But back to the Nordon. What sets the Nordon apart from other Hamilton models (like all CLD models) is that its case (a 10kt gold filled) is a "top-loader" (i.e., the case opens from the top and the movement lifts out through the front of the watch). It has an 8/0-size 18-jewel Caliber 748 movement, which was also introduced in 1948.

The Nordon is just a scant 30mm diameter, making it a small watch by today's standards, but a very customary size watch for its day. The case manufacturer was the Schwab & Wuispard Case Co (S&W), which made many cases for Hamilton. The "cld" part was made possible with three gaskets in conjunction with the "top-loader" design. One gasket goes around the crystal, a second the bezel, and the third is inside the crown.  CLD models are not "waterproof" in the modern sense of the word, but they are more resistant to moisture damage than the average watch of the day, assuming the gaskets remained intact. This specimen does not have its gaskets, but as with any vintage watch, I would assume the new owner would have enough sense not to subject this watch to anything more than the occasional accidental splash, as from a rainstorm or faucet. If you want/need a watch that can withstand submerging, get a new watch.

The case on this specimen I would rate in above-average condition. There is a light horizontal scratch along the back, but more importantly the backs and inner surfaces of the lugs are not all chewed up, nor is there a channel worn underneath the crown. These spots on this model's underbelly are notorious for showing wear and tear. This case has pierced lugs, and the lug holes retain their original round shape and are not stretched out, which is another common wear point found on this model.

Two kinds of dials were available on the Nordon, the first with applied gold numerals (AGN) which the most common, and the other with luminous dial with matching hands. This is obviously the AGN version. It is in original state, and evenly aged.

The crown I believe is replacement, but a correct crown for this model: oversized for easy gripping in work or sport situations. I have seen several examples of this model where the crown was replaced with a thinner dress-style crown, which is incorrect for this model. The stem is of the two-piece variety, with male and female portions that friction fit together. This is not my favorite design, as the pieces can (and do) separate if you pull too hard on the crown when you set the time. But this design is necessary in order for the movement to lift out of the case. The two pieces of the stem on this specimen are secure, and are rust-free. Still, don't go pulling on the crown like you're starting a lawn mower. Apply just enough force to engage the set lever, and you'll be fine.

The 18-jewel Caliber 748 movement winds and sets perfectly. It keeps time to within 2 min/day. I do not know when the movement was last serviced, but it looks great and does not have any visible signs of corrosion. If you require greater accuracy than +/- 2 min/day, again you should not be buying a 70-year-old mechanical watch!

The crystal I assume has been replaced at some point, and it looks as though it is the correct, extra-thick glass crystal for this model. There are a couple pinpoint chips in the glass, but nothing serious enough to warrant replacement, in my opinion.

I've installed a new 16mm dark brown lizo-grain strap, which compliments the watch nicely, attached with new springbars. The band is a "long" length, so it should fit anything up to an 8-inch wrist comfortably, though certainly this is a watch that looks best on a smaller wrist. But even with a smaller wrist, it's nice to have a band long enough to leave a little "pigtail" at the end. Most of today's cheaper leather bands are barely long enough to fit even a 7-1/2 inch wrist.

I think every Hamilton collector should own a Nordon. I know this is a much-hyped line that over-zealous watch sellers say about every Hamilton! But the Nordon is special in that it was one of the first new "civilian" models to come out of the factory following the war. It utilized a brand new movement, and a brand new case design that was an important first step in Hamilton's development of a water-resistant watch.

Hamilton Article from 1947 Fortune Magazine

THE RAILROADS ON HAMILTON TIME

Until about a hundred years ago watches were made entirely by hand. Despite the impact of the industrial revolution, methods long remained impervious to change. High prices kept watches unfamiliar and demand was not sufficient to justify large-scale production. Besides, the Swiss craftsmen who monopolized the industry jealously opposed innovations that might jeopardize livelihood. The introduction of machinery was thus a contribution of the nascent American industry. In 1850, Aaron Dennison developed an automatic device for cutting gear teeth. Then came machines for large-scale stamping and polishing. A quarter of a century later the Swiss awoke to threat of American timepieces that actually were superior. They adopted and improved U.S. methods, and the history of watch  making since has been one of alternating technological superiority first in one country, and then in the other.

The Hamilton Watch Co. was organized in 1892 by a group of Lancaster County investors and businessmen. In the preceding two decades, no less than five watch-manufacturing companies had failed in that locality because of low-grade production. and insufficient working capital. But Hamilton began at a most propitious time. Some years earlier, the incidence of railroad wrecks had reached the proportions of a national calamity. A congressional investigation found that faulty tinting was to blame and recommended vigorous watch inspection with a standard variation of less than thirty seconds a week. In that day no railroad timepiece met the specification. The men who cautiously edged into this vacuum thought they saw profit possibilities in high-quality watches. The models for the early Hamiltons -- turnips, the railroad men called them — were made by Henry J. Cain, a leading horologist of the period. By present standards bulky, heavy, and unattractive, they kept nearly perfect time. In the first fifteen years, sales of the famous No. 940 moved nicely. But Hamilton was building better than it knew. Railroad watches, which made up 24 per cent of sales, were slow in wearing out. It wasn't long before the limited market reached saturation and sales began to level off. The industry introduced a series of far-reaching innovations, but Hamilton waited until long after the handwriting had covered the wall. It fell behind the industry as a whole and stayed behind for twenty years.

The first innovation came in casing. The early practice was to wholesale uncased movements to watch inspectors and retail jewelers. If a movement was poorly cased and later returned for repairs, the manufacturer had to foot the bill. The domestic industry worked out a better system: they began to case their own movements and to advertise standard models. After a time, however, Elgin and Waltham went on to create new business by promoting new styles, like ladies' chatelaines and men's fancy pocket watches. Hamilton failed to follow suit. By 1908 the trend toward more elegant watches had become unmistakable. and in that year, when there was an industry-wide decline of 10 per cent, Hamilton sales slumped a third. Belatedly, the company decided to go along. 

After 1917 the watch business was deeply affected by the growing popularity of the strap watch. Again, Hamilton was a little slow to spot the trend: in 1920 pocket watches still made up 96 per cent of its total output. as against 52 per cent for Elgin, 75 per cent for Waltham. In the middle twenties, just as Hamilton was catching up with wrist watches, the business went off on a new tack. The Swiss industry, which had been making half of the three million jeweled timepieces purchased annually in the U.S.. thought it saw an opportunity for increased sales of ladies' watches. While American manufacturers were wrestling with higher costs, the Swiss helped themselves to an additional 20 per cent of the market by means of sheer high-pressure salesmanship. They introduced a new clement to what had been an heirloom item: high-styled watches and sold them as costume jewelry subject to the influence of fashion. They made it smart to own two, three, or even four watches, and more than doubled the market. The maneuver resembled an international game of tag which the American industry was "it."

When the first American wrist movements appeared, they sold against tiny Swiss watches that made the domestic product seem elephantine by comparison. By 1925 the Hamilton had shrunk, but the Swiss had moved on to elongated baguettes. Later they put watches in metal bracelets. then in gem-studded cases, and currently they are plugging the cocktail watch. In each instance the Swiss set the style and, with some help from Elgin and Waltham, skimmed the heavy cream off the market and moved on before Hamilton could adapt production to the new models. Breathless advertising. plush packaging, and underselling -- high retail markups disguised as local advertising allowances that retailers could pocket 

-- rounded out the competitors' program. Dealer protests that Hamilton was too tight and backward in

styling and advertising, got no response from the company.

During the booming '20s, sales did not reflect the company's drifting, but when the squeeze came the bones stuck out. By 1930, Hamilton was in trouble. The domestic in general, felt the pinch, took the easy way out: it fought for and got from a  Republican Congress an import duty of about 80 percent, which helped erase Swiss cost advantages. This brought small comfort to Hamilton, for foreign competition had never been a serious threat to its high-priced product. The real difficulty lay in the fact that Hamilton's merchandising had finally broken down. The company's adherence to quality still assured it a certain minimum in sales — but not enough. In 1931 sales dropped perilously close to the break-even point of $4 million • • and, the next year, for the first time, Hamilton moved into the red.

Some Hamilton shareholders, like everyone else, were badly overextended in the stock market in 1929. Forced liquidations brought a shift in ownership and control. At the same time occurred the death of Charles F. Miller, a local banker who had been the company's President since 1910. 

George P. Luckey's Mark on the Company

Luckey's insistence on thoroughgoing engineering controls extended to production of materials, and led to the successful development of a fine hairspring alloy. The hairspring, once defined as "the beating heart of a watch," regulates the release of mainspring energy at a theoretically unvarying rate. In 1920, Dr. Charles E. Guillaume, a French physicist, won the Nobel prize for inventing Elinvar, an almost perfectly elastic, non-magnetic alloy immune to changes in temperature. When Hamilton discovered that Elinvar fluctuated widely in quality, it set about to make its own. For seven years Luckey and Ed Shubrooks, Hamilton's meticulous chief metallurgist, tested temperatures, handling operations, and formulas originally worked out by International Nickel Co. and M.I.T. The end product is Hamilton-Elinvar, a patented hairspring alloy of high uniformity making for measurably greater accuracy.