The Case of the Missing Clock

by Jonathan M. Bryant

I’ve long admired the tower clock on the Nassau County courthouse built in 1891-1892.  A beautiful beacon, visible from much of downtown Fernandina, a perfect example of the growing American consciousness of clock-time at the end of the nineteenth century.

Numerous historians have told the story of our changing understandings of time in nineteenth-century America.  Early in the century, Americans depended upon “Natural” time, based on local observation of the sun and the moon.  By the end of the century we were dependent upon “Standard” time ,kept by mechanical devices and set in reference to the Greenwich meridian.  This was more than a necessary move for industry and transportation.  It signaled a cultural shift to an understanding of time as more than something that simply happened.  Instead, time became a tool of great utility.

But, watches and clocks of the late nineteenth-century varied, sometimes by as much as fifteen minutes per day.  Over the course of several days, clocks could differ by as much as an hour.  While not of great import to those following natural time, by the end of the century this could cause you to miss the turn of the tide, a train departure, or an important telephone call.  If the personal watches and clocks in a town varied, how could one schedule meetings, submit court pleadings on time, hold public events?

The solution was a public clock.  In the decades following the Civil War, towns and cities across the United States erected clocks to serve not just as the source of unified time for the community, but also as symbols of modernity.  This story is beautifully laid out in Alexis McCrossen’s Marking Modern Time: A History of Clocks, Watches and other Timekeepers in American Life (University of Chicago Press, 2013).

Imagine my shock, then, when playing around in the archives of the Amelia Island Museum of History, I came across this photograph:

AIMH  Object ID 1993.041.001.

This 1894 image shows the original courthouse structure, with no attached annexes, and the wooden Howell house next door.  But, that beacon of modernity, the clock, was missing!

No clock.  Perhaps, I thought, so soon after construction, the clock was not yet installed. Clearly, the tower was intended to have clocks on all four sides.  Fernandina was a railroad town, a shipping town, a commercial town, so unified standard time was very important.  Surely the clock was installed soon after this photograph was taken.

No clock.  Perhaps, I thought, so soon after construction, the clock was not yet installed. Clearly, the tower was intended to have clocks on all four sides.  Fernandina was a railroad town, a shipping town, a commercial town, so unified standard time was very important.  Surely the clock was installed soon after this photograph was taken.

Then, I found this photograph:

AIMH  Object ID City-013.

Based on the automobiles this was the mid-1950s.  No clock.

Then, this photograph, dated 1970:

AIMH  Object ID 1995.022.001.

Now I had a mystery.  Why build a clock tower with no clock?  Why construct recesses suggesting a clock?  Had the city and county officials made a mistake?  Did Fernandina somehow miss the growing time consciousness of the late nineteenth century?  Worse, why was no clock present in the 1950s, or in 1970?  Perhaps there was a clock at the railroad depot that served the public?  In 1898, Fernandina’s station was destroyed by flooding from a hurricane.  The depot was built in 1899 to replace it.  A telegraph office stood at the southern end of the roofed platform.  They presumably knew the time there, but no public clock was visible.

AIMH Object ID 1994.102.010.

AIMH Object ID 2022.069.467.

By 1968 water seeping in and the weight of the city fire bell threatened to destroy the clock-less tower.  In fact, Fernandina had it’s own “Leaning Tower” until the road department jacked up the front and reinforced it.  After years of conflict over its fate, in 1976, restoration began.  The Nassau County Bar Association committed to raise three thousand dollars for a clock.  Later, an additional six thousand dollars from a state grant was used to help pay for the clock.  It began operating in the summer of 1977.  Within a year the black paint on the plywood faces began to peel.

AIMH  Object ID 2022.083.226.

In 1996 the courthouse again needed repair.  As part of that project the old tower was demolished, and a replacement installed that included the light-faced clock we know today.

AIMH  Object ID1996.031.006.

The photographic evidence showed me that for eighty-five years after construction there was no clock in the courthouse tower.  Why?  To answer this required a different type of digging.

Thankfully, more than thirty years ago, Harold Belcher transcribed the “Nassau County Commissioners Minutes Relative to Building the Courthouse,” and placed this transcription in the archives at the Amelia Island Museum of History.  It was a selective transcription and he couldn’t help inserting commentary.  This is the story it tells.

In November of 1890, the Nassau County Board of Commissioners resolved to build a new courthouse and authorized $25,000 in bonds to pay for it.  There must have been some controversy, because not until May of 1891, did they finally consider bids.  First National Bank of Fernandina was chosen.  Because of discount on the bonds, the issue raised $24,062.  In July the Board sought architects to design the building, including an armory for the Fernandina Volunteers militia unit, specifying a cost $18,000.  Alfred E. McClure of Jacksonville was paid $300 for his design.  The remaining $5,762 of bond money after construction could be used to buy furnishings and other elements, including presumably a clock.

In September the commissioners requested construction bids due at noon on October 20.  The bids ranged from $24,500 to $20,878, well over $18,000, and all were rejected.  Then, local builder William. H. Mann suggested changing the roof to tin, which reduced his bid to $20,614.  The Board accepted.  That same day they purchased a courthouse lot for $2,500.

Thus, by October of 1891, the commissioners had either spent or committed $23,414 of the $24,062 they had available.  They had painted themselves into a corner.

H. Mann was ordered to prepare a cornerstone for the new building, and December 16, 1891 was chosen as the day to lay the cornerstone. But, on December 9, the commissioners were notified that the Fernandina Volunteers had disbanded.  There was no need for an armory.  As a result, construction was postponed.

The construction of the armory had been used as one justification for the new courthouse, and rent from the armory was intended to help pay interest on the bonds.  The commissioners decided to proceed with construction anyway.  Because of the delay, not until April 12, 1892, was the cornerstone laid, the one on which the builder had previously carved “Erected 1891.” 

AIMH Object ID 1980.006.026.

On April 13, 1892, the Nassau County Board of Commissioners took up correspondence regarding the cost of a clock for the tower.  None of those documents survive.  In 1891, Lewiston, Maine, paid $1,265 for a tower clock from E. Howard, one of the two leading builders of tower clocks across the country.  In 1898, Haverhill, Mass., bought an E. Howard tower clock for $1,300.  These were substantial sums, something above $40,000 in 2024.  The Nassau Board appointed two commissioners to approach the Fernandina City Council to see what portion of the cost the city would assume.

Construction proceeded quickly, and on May 18, 1892, the commissioners reported the building complete.  In July, they spend an additional $2,000 to furnish the courthouse.  In total they had spent more than $25,500 to build the courthouse.

But, what about a clock?  Evidently the County and the City found the tower clock too costly.  No clock was ever purchased, not even in the decades following.  By the time the Bar Association sponsored the clock in 1977, public clocks were no longer necessary.  A simple phone call could give you the exact time.

Except, maybe the county did buy a clock?

Photo by the Author.

This Waterbury Clock Company beauty was built in the early 1890s.  For decades it hung in the Clerk of Court’s office, and still hangs in the courthouse today.  In the 1890 catalogue, similar clocks sold for less than twenty dollars.  Waterbury is still in business, now as an international conglomerate known as Timex.

So, perhaps we should say, there was a courthouse clock?