But within these two simple items swirls a universe of war and memory, of family and the rise of a city.
Such is the emerging richness of the former Civil War Library and Museum as the first modern assessment of its vast holdings begins to bear fruit.
The renowned museum, reborn in 2003 as the result of litigation and now known as the Civil War and Underground Railroad Museum of Philadelphia, has embarked on the huge inventory project to determine, really, what's there.
"We want to figure out what we've got that we know about, what we've got that we don't know about and what we don't have that perhaps we should," said new director John C. Rumm.
The first surprising and often poignant and mysterious results of the effort -- a kind of archaeological excavation of collections built up like river silt over the last 120 years -- was available for public viewing last weekend at the museum, located in Center City.
Curators and staff hosted a free open house and speak about startling discoveries and the intricate inventory work, now in its fifth month.
The linking of the broken watch and frayed kerchief are examples of what happens when careful digging begins to uncover the hidden lineaments of an old collection.
The watch probably was kept in Foering's vest pocket, the dent caused by a bullet.
The handkerchief, also unidentified, was in another box, stored in a different place. Additional culling of records revealed that it was Foering's and that the rips resulted from the same piercing bullet that struck the watch.
Only inventory work teased out these connections.
The watch, as it happened, saved Foering's life. He went on to become the chief grain inspector for the Port of Philadelphia -- a critical position for the rising industrial and exporting metropolis. Grain shipped from Philadelphia was known throughout the world and was a key component of the increasingly powerful port.
"He led a notable life," Coldren said. "But he saved that watch for posterity. Not only did he save it, but his wife gave it to the museum. It saved his life, and you could say subsequent generations of his family owe their existence to this watch. And to discover the handkerchief that may have been wrapped around it adds to the intimate and profound meaning. This is what this museum is all about."
President Rutherford B. Hayes, a brigadier general during the war, was the library's first president. Gen. George G. Meade, commander of the Union forces at the Battle of Gettysburg, lived around the corner on South 19th Street. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant had a house nearby on Chestnut Street. All were members of MOLLUS, and the museum contains artifacts, weapons and other materials associated with all of them.
But hundreds, if not thousands, of former Grand Army of the Republic soldiers and their families have donated artifacts, relics, papers, books, art and photographs to the museum, which has owned its four-story home on Pine Street since 1922.
The accretion of material, inventoried -- but not comprehensively -- in the 1930s and the 1980s, amounts to a portrait of the Civil War drawn directly by Union participants. As such, the building on Pine Street is akin to a shrine of memory and itself is a virtual relic.
About five years ago, the nonprofit group charged with running the cash-starved museum raised the specter of a possible move from Philadelphia. Litigation followed, and the new museum emerged.
More than 3,000 unique volumes already have been identified in the museum's library, including a rare first addition of William Still's 1872 History of the Underground Railroad.
Just this week, while combing through the basement, curators uncovered one of many inventory mysteries.
"We found the tombstone of a colored soldier," said Rumm, the museum director. "We have no idea how this wound up here or where it's from. Obviously we'll treat it with great sensitivity. But it is remarkable."
The soldier was John Butcher. He was 54 when he died in 1899, and his tombstone proclaims that he was a veteran of the "U.S.C.T." -- United States Colored Troops.
Rumm is particularly keen on telling the African-American story.
"We want to meet with as many community groups as we can," he said. "We want to involve everyone's voice."