n October 1871, a Great Fire swept through the city of Chicago. It was so intense that even the very heart of the city was ravaged, despite its resistant building materials. Driven by the wind and fuelled by the surrounding wooden houses, the flames crossed the river that encircled the ‘Loop’ several times.
In scenes of indescribable chaos, the inhabitants gathered children, pets and the elderly and desperately attempted to flee. They took with them a jumble of possessions, or hastily tried to bury a handful of treasures in the wild hope of returning to retrieve them later.
The nearest gasworks (the South Side Gas Works) were quickly engulfed, depriving the town centre of power. Prisoners, who were released from jail in a hurry by the mayor, rushed to disappear into the crowds. The bell at City Hall, which was also consumed by flames, crashed to the ground, still ringing as it fell. After an ordeal that lasted more than two days, rain miraculously extinguished the vast conflagration, leaving tens of thousands of people utterly destitute. Their distress soon gave way to a witch hunt to find those responsible for causing the fire, and then to the reconstruction of the city.
In less than forty years, the small town nestled between Lake Michigan and the Mississippi River had grown considerably. Initially focused on the fur trade, Chicago gradually developed into a major economic centre and rail hub.
By the 1870s, its volume of trade was already on a par with that of more established cities including New York, Philadelphia and Boston. Shortly after the fire, echoes of the disaster reverberated around the world as the city slowly rose from the ashes. Queen Victoria herself (r. 1837-1901), shaken by the news, donated more than 8,000 books which were to form the basis of the first public library, built on a former reservoir.
Soon, the prospect of reconstructing the city attracted engineers, architects and town planners from all quarters, all keen to seize this rare opportunity to rethink the organisation of a city and its main buildings. As a result, the infrastructures and constructions that gradually emerged established new standards and forms.
These young architects – who later went on to be known as the ‘Chicago School’ – quickly imposed their vision and introduced a series of innovations based on the use of fireproof materials, such as steel, wrought iron, stone and brick.
To enhance their resistance to any future disasters, the buildings’ foundations and structures were reinforced, while internal load-bearing walls were replaced by open-plan spaces that could evolve to meet the occupants’ needs. These transformations were also linked to the development of the lift, which was being perfected at the time. In fact, these changes all pointed in a new direction: skywards. They encouraged verticality while facilitating the densification of plots, ushering in the dawn of the skyscraper.
Two decades later, as if in recognition of its incredible resurrection, Chicago was selected to host the next World’s Fair. The event, intended to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Christopher Columbus’s (1451/2-1506) arrival in America, ran for 6 months from 1 May to 30 October 1893
Among other things, it provided an opportunity to test the new urban development theories born of the Great Fire on a larger scale. In less than three years, a new town appeared in Jackson Park; it was also to be the first exhibition to be powered by electricity alone!
The announcement of this event spurred the small world of Swiss watchmaking into action. Having just recovered from the shock of the 1876 Philadelphia fair, which revealed flaws in the Swiss production system based on établissage, (whereby individual watch components were manufactured by specialists in their own homes), the industry realised that it had to be more actively involved upstream of this type of event.
Watchmakers would have to join forces to promote their savoir-faire while remaining abreast of any new ideas being developed by their competitors to ensure they were not left behind. An exhibitors’ committee was quickly formed and its members appointed. Meanwhile the Swiss Confederation – anxious to protect its economy and demonstrate that the country had risen to the challenge of American assembly-line production – used its influence to ensure that Swiss experts were appointed to the jury responsible for awarding the watchmaking prizes.
Thus Charles-Emile Tissot (National Councillor and co-founder of the Ch. F. Tissot et Fils company) and Gabriel-Marie Rouge-Feurtet (former President of the Geneva Chamber of Commerce and one of the Managing Directors of Patek Philippe) were officially appointed as ‘Representatives of the Swiss Legation’.
Naturally, their respective companies were excluded from the competition given their role in awarding the prizes as part of the jury but not from the show. The honour of this appointment quickly gave way to organisational imperatives: it was not long until the event opened and there was much work still to be done.
On the first floors of Tissot’s premises in Le Locle, the watchmakers worked relentlessly. In addition to their daily tasks, they had to finish, adjust, polish and select the timepieces that would represent the Maison in Chicago and help strengthen its reputation. There is no doubt that Charles-Emile supervised the inspection of each model to be sure of its quality. In his absence, his wife Amélie oversaw the smooth running of the Manufacture. This was a daunting task that was praised by her husband on several occasions in their correspondence.
As at the Paris Exposition Universelle in 1889, Tissot chose to show visitors its so-called ‘antimagnetic’ watches. Although this promising name appears in full in the Maison’s registers, we don’t really know what this term covered, let alone what technical solutions were being explored/offered. What is certain is that the growing development of electricity and its applications – from the use of the telegraph, lightbulbs and fans to the first telephones or simply taking the lift – created more and more problems for watchmakers.
As a result, they had to find a way to counteract the disastrous effects of magnetic fields on the operation of watches, because their credibility was inextricably linked to the reliability of their products. In 1930, after many years of research, Tissot finally offered its first ‘guaranteed antimagnetic’ wristwatches, and this breakthrough was a resounding success. In this field in particular, the Columbian Exposition in Chicago – which put electricity at its heart – seemed to set new standards, triggering new awareness within the watchmaking industry.
As is very often the case, these major events came with their fair share of unforeseen consequences, and the watchmakers in the Swiss section were certainly no exception. In Antwerp in 1885, the first counterfeit watches were discovered in the displays of a manufacturer from La Chaux-de-Fonds, causing quite a scandal. In Chicago in 1893, Swiss traders once again stole all the international press headlines. This time, it was a certain Henri-Bertrand Nemitz from Montreux (dates unknown), appointed by the organising committee to represent the Swiss exhibitors, particularly from Geneva, who was the focus of attention. Abusing his position and the trust placed in him, this man tried to turn a tidy profit on the backs of his compatriots and the Swiss Confederation.
In the early summer, Arnold Holinger (1849-1925), the Swiss consul in Washington, was alerted by American customs and uncovered the truth. Nemitz had not only helped himself to sales stock that didn’t belong to him, but he had also made a substantial profit on the construction of the official Pavilion for which he was responsible. Immediately relieved of his functions and summoned to explain himself, Nemitz went on the run. He was caught in Toronto (Canada) in extremis, with his female companion, in possession of twenty or so watches and a trunk full of cash and American bonds.
The story didn’t end there, as the sordid affair cast a shadow over the entire Swiss section, which was threatened with seizure by customs. The delegation of commissioners and members of the jury thus negotiated a day’s closure to draw up a complete inventory with the American authorities. In the end, the exhibitors’ good faith was proven and this restored confidence meant they could continue participating in the fair. These incidents illustrate just how difficult these long stays abroad were.
In parallel to the fair, exhibitors witnessed another event: ‘The Panic of 1893’, which spread to every major city in the United States. The railway frenzy meant that too much had been built too quickly, causing a series of bankruptcies and the collapse of the entire market. At the stands in the Hall of Manufactures & Liberal Arts, Swiss watchmakers read the daily press reports and discussed this economic crisis which, once again, had a devastating impact on their trade.
The protectionist policy that had been introduced to help the country recover from the American Civil War (1861-1865) became even tougher. In the early 1890s, prohibitive customs duties were introduced by the Congressman and future US President William McKinley (1843-1901), presenting Swiss manufacturers with an impossible choice. In order to avoid the excessive taxes imposed on finished products, watch manufacturers were obliged to send ‘bare’ mechanical movements for casing-up in the United States. This process, which prevented them from offering a satisfactory alternative to mass-produced American watches, led to a net reduction in deliveries. Despite these difficulties, the Swiss persisted, convinced that they just needed to see out this difficult period.
In the Special Report he draw up about the Chicago World’s Fair for the Federal Department of Foreign Affairs, Charles-Emile Tissot presented mixed results from the event. While he points out that “everyone felt [...] that the Fair’s organisers had truly given pride of place to our Swiss watchmaking industry,” he also couldn’t help but notice the dominant position occupied by one of their greatest competitors – in the literal and figurative sense.
[The American Waltham Watch Co.’s display] “is impressive in terms of the number of movements and watches it contains” [author’s note: over 2,000 pieces!]. However, he points out that “Waltham has not made any major changes to its calibres for a number of years,” adding that “the quality is proportional to the price of the movement, which varies from $3.60 to $50.” Finally, the expert laments the fact that, despite the many variants on offer, “the inevitable monotony of mechanical work is still evident in these products.”
Against this tense political and economic backdrop, Charles-Emile focused on the exhibitors of American watch cases. He states bluntly that “these cases are machine-made and intended for the wholesale trade as far as we can tell. They are quite well made from a fastening viewpoint and are particularly well finished and polished. The decorations are added by machines and finished with a graver, but I can tell you that aesthetic taste does not generally govern their execution.” We know that Charles-Emile’s skills in this area were unquestionable given that his father, Charles-Félicien Tissot (1804-1873), was a master case assembler.
Surprisingly, and probably for impartiality reasons, Charles-Emile made no mention of his own stand in his report. We do know, however, that the Tissot watches exhibited included some fine movements, chronographs and complication pieces. Some had already been displayed at the 1889 Exposition Universelle de Paris, and had been revised and/or transformed. Most were luxury models of the finest order.
In practice, Tissot worked with Courvoisier Wilcox & Co. of 12 Maiden Lane, New York, which was officially designated as its sole US trading agent in 1878. Although we do not know how long this exclusive partnership lasted, it seems to be largely corroborated by Tissot’s ledgers, which list regular shipments of movements and finished watches in the fourth quarter of the 19th century.
Founded in 1875 by George Courvoisier and George Wilcox (dates unknown), Courvoisier Wilcox & Co. appears to have focused mainly on trading watch cases, notably those in gold. Its network, which extended to major American cities, was used to distribute the products made in Le Locle throughout the US.
Commercial disappointments aside, Charles-Emile certainly made the most of this trip to America. Whenever his duties as an exhibitor or jury member allowed, he escaped to explore the various pavilions, enjoy the recreational facilities on offer and meet new people with a view to forging potential partnerships. In the evenings, at his hotel, the Auditorium Hotel (built specifically for the fair), he recounted his every adventure in long letters he wrote to his wife in Switzerland. These letters still survive today.
“The fair is the most grandiose thing you can imagine: it is a city of magnificently built, spacious palaces separated by vast squares. One part stretches along the edge of a lake that’s as big as a sea because you cannot see the opposite shore; a quay with a long promenade of 2 or 3 kilometres. Despite the blazing sun, the galleries are sufficiently well ventilated to ensure we don’t suffer too much from the heat. There are lots of police, the officers are very strict, and all the sections are guarded by soldiers. Germany and France have magnificent exhibitions, and the Swiss section is very attractive [...].”
In August, Charles-Emile was invited by the ‘Tokio Corporation of Exhibitors’ to visit the Japanese section. Captivated by the skill of the Japanese craftsmen, he purchased two vases, which he later gave to a dear friend as a gift. One of the fair’s unmissable attractions was the Chicago Ferris Wheel, which was built to rival the Eiffel Tower that had been constructed for the 1889 Exposition Universelle in Paris. It could carry more than 2,000 passengers at a time, giving them the opportunity to see the park from above and admire the unobstructed view of the city as far as Lake Michigan.
Numerous lifts were also installed, featuring all kinds of mechanisms. They were scattered throughout the fair and transported visitors to galleries or to promenades on the roofs of certain buildings. But it was the lift in the centre of the Hall of Manufactures & Liberal Arts that was undoubtedly the most popular. Just a few steps from the Swiss section and powered by electricity, this machine took curious visitors up to heights of over 50 metres!
Finally, in the Electricity Building, in a reflection of the new problems this power source was causing, Charles-Emile visited the Non Magnetic Watch Co.’s exhibition, where he closely examined “a certain collection of movements and watches made using special calibres reminiscent of our Swiss watches [...].”
According to his explanations, these non-magnetic watches featured a ‘non-magnetic’ escapement (no further details were provided). We don’t really know how resistant these watches were to the electrical currents to which they were exposed, whether in contact with everyday appliances or the exhibition’s installations, its lifts in particular.
While in Chicago, Charles-Emile took the opportunity to admire the window displays of the famous company Tiffany & Co. As well as jewellery – and diamonds in particular, which had become his speciality – the jeweller created tableware and various other luxury products, including watches. Charles-Emile had already discovered this company’s work, which he openly admired, at previous exhibitions in Paris in 1878 and 1889, among others.
He tells of their meticulous design and finishes, the elegance of the forms “reflecting modern tastes” and the high-quality decorations that were crafted in their New York workshops. The relationship between the two companies first began at the turn of the century. The ledgers of the Le Locle Manufacture record sales of Tissot watches and movements to the jeweller. A new encounter at the Paris Exposition Universelle in 1900 may well have been the catalyst...
Today, the Chicago World’s Fair is remembered for a series of news stories that have remained etched in our collective memory. These included the crimes of one of the first serial killers (or at least one identified as such), who took advantage of the crowds attracted by the event to open a boarding house and assassinate his guests. The morbid story of Dr Holmes has piqued the curiosity of generations of people and provided the basis for a number of enlightening stories and films.
A huge fire (another one!) broke out on the site of the fair this time, claiming the lives of several firefighters. The buildings in the ‘White City’ (the fair’s grounds were given this nickname because all the pavilions had been painted white to create a sense of unity) had not been designed to last and were thus particularly insubstantial and flammable. Ironically, a statue of Christopher Columbus was all that escaped the blaze. It was subsequently carefully preserved as a memorial to those who perished.
Finally, just two days before the event ended, the mayor of Chicago Carter Harrison III (1825-1893) was shot dead in cold blood by a newspaper delivery man. Patrick Eugene Joseph Prendergast (1868-1894) accused the mayor of unfairly excluding him from a job as a legal adviser, despite having no relevant qualifications. His murder led to the cancellation of the closing ceremonies and deeply shocked the entire community, particularly the Swiss, who remembered that on Sunday 30th July, the mayor had personally made a speech to celebrate their national holiday.
So it was that Charles-Emile Tissot, the director of a modest watchmaking manufacture in Le Locle, had many stories to tell on his return to Switzerland! Aged 63 and a little tired of this hectic lifestyle, he wrote to his wife about his decision not to renew his candidacy for National Councillor: “For the simple reason that I now want to focus on my Maison more than I have been able to in recent years and that my already advanced age means I need to find a replacement. But the real reason is that the time has come to relieve you of your burdens so you can rest and recover from your fatigue. I need to live with you and not in the four corners of the world, which is no longer possible.” Despite these resolutions, Charles-Emile continued to travel and run his watchmaking Maison successfully until he died in 1910.
Bibliography
- Exposé de l’horlogerie de la manufacture Ch.F. Tissot & fils au Locle à l’exposition universelle de Paris de 1878, représentés à Paris, par A. Cadot, 7 place Valois (Palais-Royal), Société Locloise d’imprimerie, 1878.
- Fallet, Estelle, Tissot: 150 ans d’histoire 1853-2003, Tissot SA, Le Locle, 2003.
- Harter, Hélène, Chicago et l’incendie de 1871 : entre mythe et réalité, Presses universitaires de Rennes, Rennes, 2015.
- Niebling, Warren H., History of the American Watch Case, Whitmore Publishing, Philadelphia, PA, 1971.
- Perman, Stacy, A Grand Complication: The Race to Build the World’s Most Legendary Watch, Atria Books, New York, London, Toronto, Sydney, New Dehli, 2013.
- The World’s Columbian Exposition, Photo-engravings, by A. Wittemann, The Albertype Co., New York, 1893.
- “The Otis Elevators at the Columbian Exposition”, in Scientific American, October 38, 1893.
- Tiffany & Co, Exposition Universelle de Paris 1889, exhibition catalogue, New York, 1889.
- Tissot, Charles-Emile, Exposition Universelle de Chicago, Rapport spécial sur L’exposition d’horlogerie [Special Report], the Syndicat des Maîtres Imprimeurs de la Suisse Romande, Genève ou Lausanne printing firm,1894.
- World’s Columbian Exposition, Chicago, Ill, 1893 – Report of the Committee on Awards of the World’s Columbian Commission – Special reports upon special subjects or groups, volumes I and 2, Government Printing Office, Washington, 1901.


