In the quiet hum of a modern-day auction room in England, time will momentarily stand still. Among the objects to be sold is a gilt silver and brass pocket watch that once belonged to Hans Christensen Givard, a 27-year-old Danish passenger traveling second-class aboard the Titanic. Givard never made it to his American dream. More than a century later, the watch he carried is still ticking in the hearts of those who remember.
A Watch That Tells a Different Kind of Time
Most watches are designed to measure time. This one does more — it tells time. Not in seconds, minutes, or hours, but in memories, sorrow, and silent reverence. Its hands are frozen at the moment the Titanic sank beneath the ocean’s surface, swallowed by the same darkness that claimed its owner.
Recovered with Hans Givard’s body and preserved along with other personal effects — including a savings book, keys, cash, a compass, a passport, and a wallet — the watch has been with his family for generations. Now, more than a hundred years later, they have decided to share this piece of legacy with the world.
The estimated price? Around £50,000 ($66,000). But to collectors, Titanic historians, and sentimentalists alike, it’s priceless.
Why Objects Like This Still Matter
Some may wonder — why such fascination with an old watch or a weathered ticket? After all, the Titanic’s story has been told and retold, from documentaries to blockbusters. But here’s the thing: history doesn’t only live in books. It breathes in relics. It whispers in letters, glimmers in old metal, and echoes in the ticking (or in this case, stilled) heart of a pocket watch.
When we look at that watch, we don’t just see Hans Givard. We see the thousands of untold stories aboard the Titanic. We see courage, panic, sacrifice, and love frozen in time.
It’s easy to reduce the Titanic disaster to statistics — 2,224 passengers and crew, 1,500 lives lost. But each number was a person. And each person carried a dream, a purpose, a family, and yes — a pocket watch.
A Glimpse Into Hans Givard’s Journey
Little is known about Givard’s personal life, but we do know he wasn’t alone. He traveled with two friends, also lost in the tragedy. What did they talk about during their last dinner? What dreams lay ahead? Did Givard glance at his watch to check the time as the ship struck the iceberg? We’ll never know. But we can imagine. That’s the power of artifacts like this — they bridge the space between fact and feeling.
More Than Just a Watch Up for Auction
The upcoming auction by Henry Aldridge and Son — specialists in Titanic memorabilia — will also feature a number of other poignant items:
- A third-class ticket, once clutched by Ernest Portage Tomlin, a young man who never got the chance to redeem it fully. His journey ended before it truly began.
- A silver dollar certificate, carried across the ocean by hopeful hands.
- A letter and medal from Erik Gustaf Lind, a first-class Swedish passenger whose story, like many others, was cut short by the Atlantic’s icy grip.
- Perhaps most notably, the violin featured in the 1997 film Titanic, a haunting replica of the one played by bandleader Wallace Hartley as the ship sank. That cinematic moment, immortalized in tears and strings, captured the spirit of real men who chose to comfort others in their final moments with music rather than escape.
This violin alone is expected to fetch up to £60,000.
Connecting With the Past, One Auction at a Time
We live in a world that often moves too fast — chasing the new, the now, the next. But sometimes, slowing down to appreciate an artifact like Givard’s pocket watch brings clarity. It invites us to reflect not only on the fragility of life but also on the resilience of memory.
It’s no coincidence that Titanic memorabilia continues to fascinate the public more than a century later. There’s something deeply human about the way the story lingers. It reminds us of our vulnerability, our ambition, and our shared desire for legacy.
When Hans Givard boarded the Titanic in 1912, he wasn’t famous. He was an ordinary man with an extraordinary destination. Today, his pocket watch gives him — and those like him — a voice again.
For the Families, a Bittersweet Farewell
The decision by Givard’s descendants to sell the watch isn’t just about value — it’s about sharing. Families of Titanic victims have often found solace in knowing their loved ones are remembered. Letting go of such a relic is rarely easy, but it allows the object to live a second life, to continue telling its story to those who care to listen.
In a way, each item in this auction is an heirloom not just from one family, but from an era. They belong to all of us who remember, and who choose to carry history forward.
Final Thoughts: When Time Stands Still, Memory Endures
On April 26, as the auctioneer raises the gavel and bidders from around the world place their offers, something bigger will be at play than just a transaction. It will be a quiet salute to the past — to Hans Givard and every other soul aboard the Titanic.
And though the watch no longer ticks, its legacy moves us all.
