The history of the chronograph
Buffy AcaciaThe measurement of time is old. As long as people have needed to know when the sun would go down, they’ve found ways to predict it. Sundials and water clocks were in use thousands of years ago, which developed into clock towers which could chime out for a whole village to hear. But, it wasn’t until relatively recently that recording short, accurate increments of time became important. Once chronographs had been conceptualised though, they were indispensable.
The first chronograph, and what that means
The word chronograph is built from Greek roots, “chrono” coming from time, and “graph” meaning to write. The rise of global seafaring in the 1700s made accurate timekeeping more important than ever before, not just for sticking to schedules, but for navigation. Marine chronometers allowed ships to calculate longitude properly, and the trickle-down effect of Europe’s best clock and watchmakers solving those problems essentially paved the way for pocket watches. Louis Moinet was a French horologist, and a personal advisor to the legendary Abraham-Louis Breguet. He built clocks for the likes of Napoleon Bonaparte, Thomas Jefferson and Tsar Nicholas I, in extraordinary, sculptural casings. His most long-lived achievement however, whether the world knew it or not, was the invention of the chronograph in 1816.
Although Moinet’s chronograph was the world’s first, we should address other developments and our definitions before diving into detail. Functionally, the terms chronograph and stopwatch are now interchangeable. One must be able to activate the timing and subsequently halt it, so that the elapsed time can be measured. The first watch which could be stopped and started at will was invented in 1695 by Samuel Watson for the purpose of calculating heart rates, which would eventually become known as a pulsometer. Watchmakers who utilised deadbeat-second escapements in the 1700s such as Jean-Moïse Pouzait and the deadbeat’s inventor George Graham, also incorporated similar technology for those stop-start watches.
There also existed watches in the 1700s which could count the minutes and be stopped with a lever that allowed the watch itself to keep running, but they did not stop the seconds. Additionally, because they weren’t able to be reset to a zero position, there was no way for any of those measurements to be considered truly accurate. So, by modern standards, a chronograph must be able to count the seconds, be started, stopped, and reset by pushers.
Moinet’s Compteur de Tierces of 1816
Louis Moinet began building his proto-chronograph in 1815 and completed it in 1816, specifically to measure 60ths of a second. Its insanely-high beat rate of 216,000vph meant that the seconds hand made a full rotation of the dial every second, and it helped Moinet to adjust his telescope’s crosshairs, which was necessary in his modification and calibration of an astronomical clock. It was also a watch that displayed minutes, retrograde hours, and running seconds, and the chronograph was operated with two pushers for stopping, starting, and directly resetting to zero. In other words, it was lightyears ahead of its time.
Moinet’s Compteur de Tierces was never a commercial product or widespread knowledge, having only been mentioned in some private letters and 1848’s Traité d’Horlogerie. It was never considered the “world’s first chronograph” until its rediscovery and Christie’s auction in 2012. Considering he lived until 1853, it’s a surprise he never piped up when the rest of the watchmaking world was clamouring over chronograph developments he’d already achieved.
The chronographs of Nicolas Mathieu Rieussec
Prior to 2012, what was considered the world’s first chronograph wasn’t even a watch, but a modified clock housed in a wooden box. It was made by Nicolas Mathieu Rieussec in 1821 as a tool for horse racing, able to time every competitor on the track. It used nibs with ink to physically draw on the dial when activated, and then each of the marks could be measured for the elapsed time. In this sense, it was more accurate than the stop-start watches of the 1700s, though not by much. Its main advantage was being able to record multiple competitors, and Rieussec was the one who coined the term “chronograph” in a presentation to the Academy of Sciences. He did eventually patent and improve this technology throughout the 1820s and ‘30s, removing the need for ink when it was integrated into pocket watches with a pusher for starting and stopping.
Further developments, and the first “modern” chronograph
The next marked innovation came from the Austrian watchmaker Joseph Thaddeus Winnerl, who worked for Breguet in Paris for some time, and for whom Ferdinand Adolph Lange worked as a foreman. While working at Breguet in 1831, Winnerl conceptualised a mechanism for a split-seconds chronograph, also known as a rattrapante chronograph. This allowed the user to start two superimposed seconds hands, and then stop one while the other continued, essentially doing the job of two chronographs. This was also the spiritual successor of some works by Abraham-Louis Breguet and Louis Frédéric Perrelet, who had patented a much more complicated version in 1828. In 1938, Winnerl’s design of a split-seconds chronograph was finalised, and streamlined throughout the 1840s.
Whether or not the Swiss-born and London-based watchmaker Adolphe Nicole knew of Louis Moinet’s Compteur de Tierces, he made the first watch since Moinet’s which fulfilled all the definitions of a modern chronograph. Patented in 1844, Nicole designed a heart-shaped cam which easily enabled a return-to-zero at the press of a pusher. This initial version used a vertical clutch and was not commercially available, but when Nicole patented an updated design in 1862, it featured a horizontal clutch along with Winnerl’s column wheel design. Perhaps the most important aspect of the Nicole’s 1862 chronograph, was that it could be installed on almost any watch, in a relatively affordable and simple way.
In 1868, a watchmaker from Geneva named Augustus Baud had the idea to flip the chronograph module from beneath the dial to the back of the movement, making it much easier to adjust its components and service those areas of heavy wear. From then on, a style had been set. Adolphe Nicole’s architecture was used by many Swiss manufacturers for decades afterwards, although it’s unknown whether he was compensated, or if the design was simply copied from the UK-made movements.
The UK market stagnated for a while, while competitive Swiss companies kept making incremental developments up until the turn of the 20th century. Henry Alfred Lugrin, a Swiss-born watchmaker who later moved to New York, was a prominent watchmaker of high complications including chronographs for both American and Swiss companies. In the late 1870s, he developed a way to link the chronograph module and the main movement again with a vertical clutch, increasing efficiency and ease of installation. He was working as an American agent for Longines at the time, so his “Patent Lugrin” chronograph featured heavily in Longines catalogues. Chronograph history clearly ran in the Lugrin blood, because Henry Alfred’s brother Jules Frédéric Alfred founded Lugrin SA, which later became Lemania.
The transition from pockets to wrists
As the First World War loomed and the watch world was readying for the transition between pockets to wrists, there were a few discerning watchmakers who reduced their chronograph movements to wrist-friendly sizes. The chronograph wristlets started popping up around 1910 and it’s impossible to say who was the first, but 1913 was when the big brands chimed in. Omega and Longines both released wrist-worn chronographs in that year, with the latter being the earlier release and featuring the calibre 13.33Z which would stay in use until the ‘30s. It was a monopusher chronograph, as all chronographs were since Moinet’s in 1816, meaning that the stop, start, and reset functions were all done via a single pusher. There’s also a record of thirty 48mm wrist-worn chronographs made by Longines for a Russian client as early as 1911.
Quickly sliding back to pocket watches in 1916, Heuer made a significant breakthrough with the Mikrograph, capable of measuring 1/100th of a second. That broke Louis Moinet’s record exactly 100 years later, even if nobody remembered the original feat. In any case, aviation was the key motivation for making chronograph wristwatches. But in the 1920s and ‘30s, some chronographs were made with infantry in mind. Telemeters, pulsometers, and tachymeters were made more prominent for quick calculations in the field, occasionally laid out in graceful spirals over the dial.
The evolution of fashion mingled with military utility in this decade, and so luxury watchmakers such as Patek Philippe and Audemars Piguet began to incorporate chronographs and scales into their solid gold cases and ornately-decorated dials. Between 1923-1939, Patek Philippe manufactured at least 11 split-second chronograph wristwatches with Cartier-signed dials. One of them was worn by Amelia Earhart, and sold at auction for €1,736,000 earlier this year.
Breitling’s pusher split, and the proliferation of chronographs
Breitling had become quite the player in the chronograph world, having been one of the brands that popularised separating the monopusher from the crown in a 1915 release. Well, in 1933, it went a step further. Splitting the stop/start function and the reset function into two separate pushers allowed the wearer to restart the chronograph without needing to reset it. It also prevented accidental hits, resetting the watch before you had a chance to write the time down. Ultimately, this made it a more versatile measuring tool and caught on quickly. However, another rising star in this area was Landeron, who had become part of Ebauches SA as well as ASUAG as the Swiss watch industry was struggling between the wars. Landeron supplied Breitling, Cyma, Baume & Mercier, and plenty more prior to its biggest achievement came in 1947. Before that though, Longines introduced the first chronograph with a flyback function in 1935.
In 1947, the Landeron 47 was a short-lived calibre, quickly improved to become the Landeron 48 released in the very same year, but both of them shared a key difference from every other chronograph yet made. Rather than using a column wheel to actuate the chronograph, Landeron replaced it with a cam. This didn’t necessarily simplify the mechanism, but it was able to be manufactured with much lower tolerances, and therefore faster and cheaper. There are some minor advantages to column wheels which do matter in matters of high chronometry, however cam-actuated chronographs have proven themselves to be just as reliable for day-to-day wear. Just in time for World War II, chronographs could now be mass-produced in base metal or stainless steel cases.
The role of chronographs during the Second World War can’t be understated. They were invaluable tools for pilots, and as the skies became a prominent battleground throughout the European war theatre, they all needed one. Swiss companies fulfilled orders to both sides of the war, remaining neutral despite the multiple Swiss towns that were accidentally bombed, again by both sides. The German flieger chronographs and the Type 20 are still popular models today being sold worldwide, as are models like the Breguet Type XX and the Longines Avigation BigEye.
From military tools to sports and leisure
After WWII, there was a similar effect as after WWI, but on a much larger scale. Pocket watches were all but forgotten, and wristwatches had become an almost-essential accessory rather than a luxury. Chronographs in the late ‘40s and early ‘50s became fairly dressy once more, combining with other complications such as calendars and moonphases. However, towards the mid-‘50s, a new concept arose. Rather than military watches which were tough for a reason, tool watches and sports watches were in support of a lifestyle. Air force pilots who turned to commercial piloting may have sported a Breitling Navitimer with its patented slide-rule bezel from 1952 onwards, while intrepid racing drivers favoured the designs of Heuer.
On the topic of racing, we can’t discuss the history of the chronograph without dedicating time to the Omega Speedmaster. When it debuted as part of a trio in 1957, it created a bit of a cultural reset. Chunky, on a steel bracelet, yet precise, the Speedmaster was purpose-built for racing at a time when the cars were still deathtraps. The now-legendary calibre 321 was based on a Lemania 2310, which had established itself as a phenomenal column-wheel chronograph since its release in 1942. It probably would have been difficult to believe that the Speedmaster would eventually make it to the Moon.
Not to be outdone by Omega, the Swiss brand’s famous rival Rolex also released a racing chronograph in the Cosmograph Daytona in 1963 (previously known as just the Cosmograph in 1962) with a Valjoux 72 movement. Of course, it was an instant hit, and deservedly so.
The race for the automatic-winding chronograph
Stylistically, the ‘60s saw more chronograph variety than can be summarised. Whether it was the economic booms, the feelings of flower power, or just the evolution of style, case shapes began to get experimental, and more manufacturers played around with colour. On a technical level, however, the real race was in creating a chronograph with automatic winding. Up until then, all chronographs had been manually wound, and the idea of adding a rotating weight or a bumper to a delicate movement was fraught with issues. Lemania had created a prototype in the mid-‘40s, but nothing which could be commercialised.
The race for an automatic chronograph had three main contenders, culminating in a hectic 1969. There was Zenith, Seiko, and The Chronomatic Consortium which was made up of Heuer, Hamilton, Buren, Dubois, Depraz, and finally Breitling. It’s well-known that Zenith was the first to announce the El Primero, so-named for being the first on the block. Well, it was the first to be announced, but the last to be put into general production. Nevertheless, between the El Primero’s 36,000vph beat rate, 50-hour power reserve, and completely-integrated design, it pipped the Consortium’s modular Calibre 11 to the post which made its way into the Heuer Monaco. Seiko’s 6139 was technically the winner, if you’re counting from when you could actually buy the watch. It also had the honour of flying to space on the wrist of William Pogue in 1973/74.
The ’70s and the Quartz Crisis
So the Omega Speedmaster landed on the Moon on the wrists of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin in 1969, but aside from being extremely cool, it didn’t do all that much for the progression of chronographs. In reality, the Swiss watch industry was returning to a bit of a slump. Landeron shut down production of the Landeron 48 in 1970, and would be forced to close its doors in 1983 after being forced to pursue dodgy electric movements in competition with the Americans. 1973 was an important year though, because it was when the Valjoux 7750 was released.
Adapted from the earlier Valjoux 7733, the 7750 was a perfect successor to the Landeron 48 as a Swiss workhorse chronograph movement. It was also cam-actuated, but it had the added benefits of reliable automatic winding, and day/date displays. Later on, it would take many different forms with various complications, some simply tweaking the number of registers, and some adding triple calendars with a moonphase. It even had some plastic parts to keep costs down, and snobbery aside, they worked great. The 7750 can be rough to look at, but it was absolutely prolific in affordable chronographs through the ‘70s, ‘80s, and even today. Even some luxury brands who say they use in-house movements will likely have taken some inspiration from the 7750.
The other consideration during the ‘70s and ‘80s was the rise of quartz watches. You didn’t need a mechanical chronograph to time anything anymore, because digital stopwatches which cost just a few dollars were able to do everything better and more accurately than even the best mechanical watches. That said, even by then, there was alienation between a watch’s “purpose” and the enjoyment of ownership. The Quartz Crisis ran its course, and the brands which were popular or savvy enough to keep their sales up survived. 1982 saw Seiko create mechaquartz, which allowed a quartz chronograph to have a smooth sweep with its seconds hand. Even though the technology is now more than 40 years old, its popularity has only recently risen substantially.
Today, and the future
For the past 20 years or so, much of the watch industry has been reaping the benefits of embracing luxury, but also appealing to the affordable end of the market. There are countless brands innovating in different ways, creating indulgent and stunning watches with the help of modern manufacturing techniques like MEMS or materials like silicon. In order to truly see what contemporary developments leave a mark on the history of the chronograph, we’ll have to wait.