Time to examine the history of the hourglass

The title sequence shows an hourglass with sand trickling to the bottom before a backdrop of partly cloudy sky: “Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.”

Although I can’t say I ever watched the long-running television series, the lead-in line struck me as profound.

The simile seemed appropriate as time eventually runs out for all of us. I was concerned a few years ago when my selfwinding watch kept stopping.

For most of us on this side of the pond our only encounter with an hourglass might be in game timing such as Pictionary or Boggle.

These timers are cheaper and easier to use than the electronic ones that might accompany other games.

The origin of the hourglass as we know it — two glass bulbs connected vertically by a narrow neck that allows a regulated flow of a substance from the upper to the lower by gravity — is unclear. Its predecessor, the water clock, is known to have been around Egypt and Babylon as early as the 16th century BCE.

The first documented example of the hourglass is a depiction in the 1338 fresco “Allegory of Good Government” by Ambrogio Lorenzetti. Ambo apparently equated timeliness with good government — times have changed.

Marine sandglasses were in use about the same time as noted in logbooks of European ships. These were the most dependable measurement of time at sea as they were unaffected by the motion of the ship and less affected by temperature changes unlike water clocks.

The hourglass also found acceptance and popularity as an inexpensive alternative to mechanical clocks.

They were seen in churches, homes and workplaces to measure sermons — will this ever drain out? — cooking time and breaks from labor.

Smaller models came into use as they became more ubiquitous making the timing more discreet.

By the turn of the 16th century mechanical clocks became cheaper, more accurate and smaller so the “hour” of the hourglass was almost over.

When Ferdinand Magellan sailed around the planet, 18 hourglasses from Barcelona were in his ship’s inventory (after the trip had been authorized by King Charles I of Spain, no unauthorized exploration). The job of a ship’s page was to turn the hourglasses to provide times for the ship’s log.

Crossing the international date line threw this into confusion. No, just kidding, the International Date Line wasn’t established until 1884.

Noon was the reference time for navigation, which did not depend on the glass, as the sun would be at its zenith (except on cloudy days).

More elaborate hourglasses could have multiple sets of globes each with a different operating window. These could measure intervals of quarter, half and three-quarters and an hour. These found usage in churches for priests and ministers to measure lengths of sermons. And speaking of ships, the hourglass, on occasion with the metaphoric addition of wings, was depicted as a symbol that human existence is fleeting.

The “sands of time” will run out for every life.

This gave inspiration to several pirates who placed an hourglass with wings on their flags. This tended to strike fear in the hearts of the pirates’ victims (not to mention the skull and cross-bones). Pirate Christopher Moody’s “Bloody Red” flag had the hourglass, skull and cross-bones coupled with a hand raised with a dagger.

I have no statistics on how effective this was compared to just the skull and cross-bones seen on most movie pirate ships.

Some computer interfaces use the hourglass to indicate the program is working, but when it doesn’t disappear the computer is in an infinite loop (much like being captured by Christopher Moody).

However, if time runs out on you with no guesses in Pictionary abandon hope, all is lost.