Who shall discover the age of the sundial, or fix with certainty the year in which ye horologe was first invented to record the passing of the day or perchance the hour? The archives of time will never reveal to us the first dial that was invented to aid mortal man to regulate his life and so fulfil his daily task. We can only at the best surmise what the date may have been, and record existing information for the benefit of posterity, trusting that new discoveries may throw fresh light upon this most engrossing subject.

To the student of astronomy and mathematics, it will ever appear to be a most natural event that the sundial should have been constructed to record accurately the time of day; and such might doubtless express surprise that the age of the earliest known horologe is not of greater antiquity. But it must not be forgotten that the requirements of early man were small, and time, although a most important consideration, was not of the same value that it is to-day, in the highly civilised age in which we live.

It is not my intention to give a long and detailed account of the sundial, for I must confess that I am not sufficiently versed in its chequered and varied history; but, nevertheless, I feel bound to include in my book one or more chapters that shall supply a little information upon the age, development, and construction of ye horologe.

But here I am at a loss to know where to start, for if I should deal with the Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, or Roman ages, doubtless I should be ruled out of court, for a wise critic would question the lateness of my starting point, and would prove conclusively that I ought to have begun with Adam, who could not have missed the opportunity afforded him of erecting a sundial in the Garden of Eden. Indeed, so hard is it to fix a date for the earliest introduction of the sundial in its most primitive form, that we can only allude with safety to its mention in ancient writings and its discovery in various countries through different ages.

Without doubt the Bible gives us the oldest records, and we may be sure that wherever we get even the briefest allusion to the division of time, we can assert the existence of a horologe with little hesitation.

Job (vii. 2) alludes to the monitor in the words—“as a servant earnestly desireth the shadow,” and the miracle of the sundial of Ahaz has been quoted and handed down for centuries.

Sundials exist in most countries in various forms, differing in construction according to the knowledge of the age in astronomy and mathematics, and showing clearly at different periods in the history of a race the outside influence of the greater wisdom attained to by many students in the art of horology.

If we devote considerable attention to the history of sundials we almost unconsciously find ourselves dividing them into the following groups:—Wall dials, pedestal dials, and portable dials. Without doubt it will never be surely solved as to which is the older of the first two, for who can ever know the resources of primitive man, the knowledge of the ancients, or the earliest discoveries of the wandering tribes of the East?

How little we really know of ancient China or Japan, where sundials abound. When the history of the horologe of the West still remains imperfect, who will determine that of the East? Let us solve the riddle of Avebury or Stonehenge with certainty before we can decide the age of any other likely form of horologe; let us move the sands of the desert of Egypt and dig down into every ruin of the past before we can hope to fix a date at which mortal man constructed a dial, mural or pedestal, to record the passing of the day. Although priority in the age of the first two groups of dials may remain an uncertainty, yet the third group of portable dials can be safely given a late date.

By portable dials I would not have my readers include the tent pole often used by wandering Arabs to cast a shadow, or the possible use of a stone of any size by early man, but the host of small pocket and ring dials made of metal, ivory, wood, or stone that are frequently found in our own land, on the Continent, and in the East.

There is no more engrossing study than the age of the sundial, and to those interested in gnomonics any fresh information or unrecorded history is of the greatest importance. It is, however, left to the excavator of buried cities and ancient ruins of the past to shed fresh light upon such a well-worn subject, and the humble historian but faithfully records and hands down to posterity the result of his discoveries.

The minutes of to-day are as the hours of yesterday, and the necessity of an accurate time-keeper is in this present century more keenly felt than ever it was in the past. A glance at the sky to determine the position of the sun in respect to well-known landmarks may have sufficed the races of primitive man, but as generation succeeded generation, and regular business occupations and more home life commenced, the observance of stated intervals of the day must have become a necessity; so that, if the old proverb be true, necessity became the mother of invention, and in due course gave birth to the sundial, which, as time went on, developed until it reached the perfect stage in which we find it to-day.

Perhaps some day excavations in the Holy Land will reveal fresh forms of horologe that will put into the shade the age of the present dials from ancient Greece, but until then we have little data other than vague allusions to them in the historical records of the past to go upon. It is very doubtful whether ancient Egypt with all its vast learning and resources will ever throw fresh light upon the subject of gnomonics. Situated so close to the Equator, both the horizontal and vertical dials would be of small service.

The angle of the gnomon being equal to the latitude of the place, the few degrees either side of the Equator would necessitate such a small elevation that a horizontal dial would be of little help. Again, a vertical dial would show the time for only a very short portion of the year, since the dial plate would have to be almost parallel with the rays of the sun. Still, doubtless, records may yet be found that will testify to its existence, if not in ancient Egypt, in lands that felt Egyptian influence and benefited by their learning and wisdom.

Theories are problematical and surmises are often without foundation, but I would indeed venture to think that it is more than possible that the sundial played some part in the rectification of the Babylonian calendar in 747 B.C., which took place about nineteen years before the accession of King Ahaz, in whose reign it was clearly alluded to.

The oldest known dials at present are those of Grecian origin, and for the most part are of the hemicyclean form invented by the Chaldean Berosus, who lived about 340 B.C., and his particular shape and construction of dial was in use for centuries. Four of these sundials were discovered in Italy: one at Tivoli in 1746, another at Castel Nuovo in 1751, another at Rignano in 1751, and the fourth at Pompeii in 1762. It is thus evident that this form of sundial which was used by the Arabians (who gave great study to gnomonics) was popular also amongst the Romans. An interesting specimen of this form of horologe, which can now be seen in the British Museum, was found at the base of Cleopatra’s Needle in 1852. This dial is concave, and is made from a stone 16½ inches high by 17 inches wide, the depth of the bowl being 10 inches; the hours marked are the twelve unequal hours by which the Greeks divided up their day.

This dial—by no means satisfactory—doubtless owed much of its popularity to its novel construction, and to the fact that it was more or less of a portable nature. But the knowledge that it was constructed 360 years after the known existence of the sundial (see Isaiah xxxviii. 8), leads us to surmise that other forms of dials were in use at the same time. It is a known fact that the ancients were familiar with declining dials, and the Tower of the Winds at Athens, which still exists, has on its walls, built in octagonal shape, no fewer than eight of this kind. And although the date of these dials is evidently of a later period than the actual building, they certainly belong to a very early time. However, the Greeks were, as we know, well versed in the art of dialling, and without doubt gave a lead in this study to other nations.

Herodotus, writing in 443 B.C., says that the Greeks acquired their knowledge of the sundial from the Babylonians; the Roman writers in turn give evidence of their acquisition of this instrument from the Greeks. Although the Romans were backward in the science of gnomonics and slow to adopt any particular form of horologe, they eventually constructed many a beautiful dial of varied design. The first sundial was erected in Rome in the year 290 B.C., this being taken from the Samnites by Papirius Cursor. Another was brought to Rome by Valerius Messala from Catania 261 B.C., but it was not until 164 B.C. that, as far as we know, a dial constructed at Rome was set up by order of Q. Marcius Philippus.

Cicero, writing in 48 B.C. to Tiro, mentions that he wished to place a sundial at his villa in Tusculum, and at a later date we see Romans erecting sundials in every possible corner of their villas and grounds.

The first known dial in Britain, with the exception of the one or two reputed Roman dials discovered in this country, are those of Saxon origin found on some of our ancient churches. As far as we know nearly all the earliest mural examples are semicircular, and although the spaces into which the dial is divided vary considerably in number and size, they seem to point to the practice of the early Norsemen dividing time into tides. And since it is known that they apportioned the time into eight tides, and that the oldest horologes have the fewest spaces, it seems more than likely that many dials so marked owe their existence to these hardy invaders.

Bede (our earliest historian) records the fact that the hours were shorter or longer according to the seasons, and this testimony is borne out by existing dials, generally found built into ancient buildings, on the sides of porches, and the jambs of windows. I myself discovered one, only two feet off the ground, built into the east side of an old Norman south porch, and the fact that the dial had been cut in order to fit the stone into its place—added to its position—showed very plainly that it had been taken out of an earlier building and used again. Without hazarding any date as to the earliest form of horologe in this country, I would but testify from my own experience that many dials of early workmanship actually exist unnoticed on many of our ancient buildings, principally churches. A close and careful examination of the walls of such would, I am sure, reveal many a time-worn horologe of the past. Generally they are found on faced stones built into porches, windows, and corners of buildings, and consist of circles and half-circles, divided by lines which radiate from a hole in the centre to the circumference. The number of lines differ considerably and the spaces are also of unequal size.

Evidence tends to prove that these dials are of Saxon and Norman times, and I venture to think from their divisions that in many cases, although found on Norman buildings, they tend to show that Saxon ideas continued to exist in many things in spite of Norman influence. It would take many generations at that period of the history of our country to supplant in remote districts a recognised form of dial, and although the Norman method of recording time was more accurate, doubtless it was but gradually adopted.

The Saxons used the simple dial so long in vogue amongst the hardy Northmen or Vikings, who, being a maritime race, founded their divisions of time on the ebb and flow of the tide. First, the four tides, two high tides and two low; then, further improving this, they subdivided these divisions again into halves and quarters, thus making the day and night equal to sixteen hours. In this country there exist many of their dials, and some are very noteworthy.

There is an ancient dial built upside down into the wall of the church in the village of Byland in the Hambleton Hills, which is thought to have been made by a Dane in the ninth century. It bears the inscription:—

Over the south door of Weaverthorpe Church, Yorkshire, there is a similar dial, only it is divided into twelve parts, every alternate line being crossed. It has an inscription:—

“In Honore see Andreae Apostoli Herebertus Wintonie Hoc Monasterium Fecit in Tempore Regn——”

The unfinished name is thought to be that of Reginald II., to whom in 942 King Edmund stood godfather. A remarkably fine dial of about 1064 exists over the south door of the ancient church at Kirkdale, and bears a long inscription, which, being translated, reads:—

“Orm, Gamal’s son, bought S. Gregory’s Monastery when it was all utterly broken and fallen, and he let it to be made anew from the ground, to Christ and S. Gregory, in Edward’s day, the King; and in Tosti’s day, the Earl. This is the day’s sun-marker, at every tide, and Hawarth me made and Brand Provost.”

Another early dial exists over the church door at Bishopstone in Sussex. It bears the inscription “Eadric,” and as a prince of the South Saxons of this name lived A.D. 685, it is thought that this is its likely date.

It was whilst gazing at an ancient dial which I had discovered that the following motto occurred to me:—

Still, in spite of my couplet, I made notes in my book as to the discovery of another Saxon horologe. Such is the nature of the keen archÆologist that he feels obliged to put dates to every find of importance, although oft-times a more learned brother will dispel by argument and proof very quickly his most sure convictions.

While attributing the early semicircular dial to the Saxons, evidence strongly points to the fact that the many-rayed circular dials are of the mediÆval period. It will ever be very hard to determine the date of many of these dials, as the age of a stone, cut and faced by the mason, is an unknown quantity. And there is hardly a stone building in this country that does not contain stone quarried from the demolished buildings of the past. This being so, many a dial may now occupy a very different position from that in which it was originally set.

As years moved on ye horologe was improved and immediately became more popular. The time on the face of the dial was more divided, and from being quite plain in appearance it gradually took a more ornate shape.

Sundials continued to be erected long after clocks came into use, and in our land during the 17th century many very fine specimens were erected. Doubtless royal patronage and interest had much to do with their popularity, for we know that Charles I. took a keen interest in the art of dialling, and himself caused a sundial to be set up in the Privy Garden behind Whitehall, at Westminster. The beautiful dial at Holyrood Castle, Scotland, is said to have been a gift to his Queen, Henrietta Maria. When kings and princes set the fashion their subjects soon follow suit, and thus we find that some of the most beautiful dials are of this period.

Until watches began to be made in numbers the sundial ruled supreme; clocks did not in any way diminish their popularity, and if the truth were known doubtless only helped to cause a greater number to be erected, since not only could they be relied upon to keep accurate time, but also to serve for the setting of a clock when it had stopped. To-day we introduce the sundial into our gardens more for an ornament than from any wish to add to it a timekeeper, and it is the love of the antique that causes old dials to change ownership and to be set up on new sites, irrespective of the fact that they may have been constructed and set for a different locality.

It is curious to note that although sundials have ever been in use, since their discovery there seems to have existed from time to time what I would like to call waves of popularity in the history of “ye horologe.” Such are clearly marked by the many existing dials which appertain to certain periods. If we could only get a census of dates, it would be a matter of great interest to trace the state of the country at the time of varying output, and to note the years of war and peace, of prosperity and depression. I think it would be found that even as “ye horologe” marks only our sunny hours, so also the sunny hours of a nation’s life has bade the sundial live.

The marked interest that has been taken in the sundial during recent years shows it has still a great future before it. If, then, age can add to its value, and yet in nowise impair its reliability, who will be without such a garden ornament that gives also a gentle touch to what is already a beautiful possession? Calling upon the thoughtful as it does by many an apt line or verse to consider the brevity of time, it warns and exhorts with far greater emphasis than the voice of man. Though only of iron and stone, the work of men’s hands, it seems almost to gain our sympathy, for given to one who has experienced the ravages of time, it demonstrates the value of quiet endurance and resignation under trouble.

Photograph No. 1 of Saxon Sundial built into the South Porch of a Norman Church, Stanton S. Quintin, Chippenham, Wilts.