The Woman Who Saved Time

In late 19^th and early 20^th century Britain, time was a commodity for sale. Before timekeeping radio pips, people didn’t know how accurate their clocks were. And so the remarkable Ruth Belville became the ‘Greenwich Time Lady’. She made a unique living from an industry as unique. She became the timekeeper of London. With her prized chronometer named ‘Arnold’, she sold time itself…

The day starts when the Royal Observatory’s clock in Greenwich ticks past midnight. The Observatory is on the Prime Meridian, an imaginary line that divides the world into two.

Greenwich helped sailors navigate. It also generated train schedules and determined the start and finish of work shifts. But there was a problem.

What about the mantel clock in the front room or the grandfather clock in the hall? How did Londoners, and business owners, know their watches were accurate?

The only way to be certain was to go to Greenwich and set a pocket watch to the time displayed on the Royal Observatory’s official clock. The distance between Central London and Greenwich is six and a half miles, which was a bit of a bother for a time check.

So John Belville devised an innovative solution.

Belville’s Lightbulb Moment

John Belville was a senior astronomer at the Royal Observatory. And the proud owner of a reliable Arnold pocket watch. He noticed that businesses sent assistants to Greenwich every week to check the correct time. When they returned, they synchronised their watches with GMT.

Sir George Biddell Airy was the Observatory’s director. He wasn’t happy with the clockmakers’ assistants descending on the Observatory each morning. They interfered with his essential work.

At the time, chronometers were a significant advancement in timekeeping. But accurate timekeeping was not as common back then as it is now. The solution John came up with was to go to the clockmakers with the proper time. He charged a modest fee.

John was delivering time, a novel idea but one that worked. In 1836, he expanded his business to include a service for private citizens. He carried the time for his clients for 20 years until he died in 1856. When his widow Maria discovered she was not entitled to a pension, she took over his business.

By this point, the Observatory was sending out a time signal via telegraph. But many people preferred Maria Belville’s monthly visits over the new system. She went on to carry time for another 36 years, retiring in 1892 and passing the reins on to her daughter Ruth.

Overnight, she became:

The Greenwich Time Lady

Picture this: Victorian London is bustling with horse-drawn carriages and gas-lit streets. The streets Ruth walked through. She began her day at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich. There, she synced her prized chronometer, named Arnold, with the official Greenwich Mean Time.

Every Monday, she took public transport to Greenwich. There, she had a cup of tea with the porter. Then, she received a certificate of accuracy for her trusty chronometer. And off she went, travelling to businesses and individuals across London. She gave them the correct time, after which they adjusted their own clocks.

Ruth wandered across the city with Arnold in her hand. She provided Londoners with a service they had no idea they needed. It gave them the rare opportunity to calibrate their watches with Arnold’s unrivalled accuracy.

She delivered time for about 40 to 50 clients, ranging from the Navy to watchmakers, to private individuals. She not only held Arnold, but she also carried a shopping bag because she liked to buy stuff along the way.

Ruth was a creature of habit but also courtesy.

By 1892, Londoners had many ways to ensure the accuracy of their watches. The Post Office and commercial businesses provided ‘time checks’. Ruth may have appeared ‘antiquated’, but many people loved her personal touch. It was quaint but in a good way.

That said, not everyone appreciated her efforts.

The Ire of Time

A man named John Wynne was the director of a corporation that sold telegraphic time signals. In 1908, he attacked Ruth’s low-tech method of timekeeping. He even questioned her character, writing:

‘Who needs a woman galloping through the streets of London in a pushchair with an Arnold pocket watch, causing all clocks to tick in unison?’

Miserable sod. It turns out, many people did, and John’s attack backfired. It propelled Ruth from obscurity. The press sensed a sensational headline. So they pursued the woman they dubbed ‘The Greenwich Time Lady’. As a result of the publicity, more subscribers joined the Belville service. David Rooney, Ruth’s biographer, noted that:

‘Ruth Belville carried the same 18^th-century pocket watch, which she called ‘Arnold’ after its maker, around London each week for a further 48 years.’

That’s right. She did this for 48 years. She was famous, a local celebrity. Everyone knew Ruth. With her Arnold watch, precise to a tenth of a second. Yet by the 1930s, Ruth realised she was clinging on to a dying business concept. In 1936, ‘Tim’ arrived. This was the name of an automatic speaking clock that people could call up from their phones.

The voice said, “At the third stroke, it will be XX o’clock precisely.” It belonged to a woman named Ethel Cain. In one of history’s weird twists, she lived only a few doors down from Ruth.

She found the name of the talking clock, ‘Tim’, to be obscene.

She retired at the age of 86 in 1940 because the German bombing of London made being out and about too risky. And, in that year, the 103-year-old business came to an end. Far more recently than you might imagine.

Ruth Belville, the ‘Greenwich Time Lady’, died on December 7^th, 1943, at the age of 89. Three years after she retired. Her reliable pocket watch was beside her bed.

The Woman Who Saved Time

For almost 50 years, Ruth sold the exact time to people all over London.

While her father started the business, Ruth was the star of the Belville tale. She was a local celebrity in her day. Known for her remarkable longevity in the face of strong competition. One that threatened her unconventional business.

She set Arnold to Greenwich Mean Time and sold it to people. She was the symbol of precision and unwavering dependability in an era when timeliness was essential. Her clients admired her for her consistent service. It was a career from which she emerged unscathed.

Before her death, she planned for Arnold’s future. In her final years, the Clockmakers’ Company gave her a pension for her diligent efforts to sell time. She repaid them by donating Arnold to the museum.

This unassuming silver pocket watch is now housed in the Science Museum in South Kensington. A humble reminder of a humble woman. Her death signalled the end of an era, yet her legacy endures.

Ruth lived through an age when selling time was a one-of-a-kind industry. So, the next time you check your smartphone for the time, remember her. She walked the streets of London selling time to a world yearning for accuracy.

In an age of technical miracles, her story is a reminder of a time when a simple wristwatch made you a legend.

Toodle-Pip :}{:

Post UK: What do you think of Ruth Belville, reader?