CHAPTER XI.

ECLIPSES OF THE SUN MENTIONED IN HISTORY.—THE CHRISTIAN ERA TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST.

The Christian Era is, for several reasons, a suitable point of time from which to take a new departure in speaking of historical eclipses, although the First Century, at least, might obviously be regarded as belonging to classical history—but let that pass.

Dion Cassius[61] relates that on a date corresponding to March 28, A.D. 5, the Sun was partly eclipsed. Johnston says that the central line passed over Norway and Sweden. It seems, perhaps, a little strange that a writer who lived in Bithynia in the 3rd Century of the Christian Era should have picked up any information about something that happened in the extreme North of Europe two centuries previously. But probably the eclipse must have been seen in Italy.

On November 24, A.D. 29, there happened an eclipse of the Sun which is sometimes spoken of as the “eclipse of Phlegon.” Eusebius, the ecclesiastical historian, records Phlegon’s testimony. Phlegon was a native of Tralles in Lydia, and one of the Emperor Adrian’s freedmen. The eclipse in question happened at noon, and the stars were seen. It was total, and the line of totality, according to Hind,[62] passed across the Black Sea from near Odessa to Sinope, thence near the site of Nineveh to the Persian Gulf. A partial eclipse with four-fifths of the Sun’s diameter covered was visible at Jerusalem. This is the only solar eclipse which was visible at Jerusalem during the period usually fixed for Christ’s public ministry. This eclipse was for a long time, and by various writers, associated with the darkness which prevailed at Jerusalem on the day of our Lord’s Crucifixion, but there seems no warrant whatever for associating the two events. The Crucifixion darkness was assuredly a supernatural phenomenon, and there is nothing supernatural in a total eclipse of the Sun. To this it may be added that both Tertullian at the beginning of the 3rd century and Lucian, the martyr of Nicomedia, who died in 312, appealed to the testimony of national archives then in existence, as witnessing to the fact that a supernatural darkness had prevailed at the time of Christ’s death. Moreover, the generally recorded date of the Crucifixion, namely, April 3, A.D. 33, would coincide with a full Moon. As it happened, that full Moon suffered eclipse, but she emerged from the Earth’s shadow about a quarter of an hour before she rose at Jerusalem (6 h. 36 m. p.m.): the penumbra continued upon her disc for an hour afterwards.

Speaking of the Emperor Claudius, Dion Cassius[63] says:—“There was going to be an eclipse on his birthday. Claudius feared some disturbance, as there had been other prodigies, so he put forth a public notice, not only that the obscuration would take place and about the time and magnitude of it, but also about the causes which produce such events.” This is an interesting statement, especially in view of what I have said on a previous page about the indifference of the Romans to Astronomy. It would, likewise, be interesting to know how Claudius acquired his knowledge, and who coached him up in the matter. This eclipse occurred on August 1, A.D. 45. Barely half the Sun’s diameter was covered.

Philostratus[64] states that “about this time while he was pursuing his studies in Greece such an omen was observable in the heavens. A crown resembling Iris surrounded the disc of the Sun and darkened its rays.” “About this time” is to be understood as referring to some date shortly preceding the death of the Emperor Domitian which occurred on September 18, A.D. 96. This has usually been regarded as the earliest allusion to what we now call the Sun’s “Corona”; or, as an alternative idea, that the allusion is simply to an annular eclipse of the Sun. But both these theories have been called in question; by Johnston because he cannot find an eclipse which in his view of things will respond as regards date to the statement of Philostratus, and by Lynn on the same ground and on other grounds, more suo. The question of identification requires looking into more fully. There was a total eclipse on May 21, A.D. 95, but it was only visible as a partial eclipse in Western Asia and not visible at all in Greece. This is given as the conclusion arrived at by the German astronomer Ginzel. But it does not seem to me sufficient to overthrow, without further investigation, the fairly plain language of Philostratus, which is possibly confirmed by a passage in Plutarch[65] in which he discusses certain eclipse phenomena in the light of a recent eclipse. The date of Plutarch’s “recent” eclipse is somewhat uncertain, but that fact does not necessarily militate against his testimony respecting the Corona or what is regarded to have been such. The statement of Philostratus, treated as a mention of a total solar eclipse, is accepted as sufficiently conclusive by Sir W. Huggins and the late Professor R. Grant. Johnston, to meet the supposed difficulty of finding an eclipse to accord with the assertion of the historian, suggests that “perhaps some peculiar solar halo or mock Sun, or other meteorological formation” is referred to. But Stockwell has advanced very good reasons for the opinion that the eclipse of Sept. 3, A.D. 118, fully meets the circumstances of the case. Grant’s opinion is given in these emphatic words:—“It appears to me that the words here quoted [from Apollonius] refer beyond all doubt to a total eclipse of the Sun, and thus the phenomenon seen encompassing the Sun’s disc was, really as well as verbally, identical with the modern Corona.”[66]

With the end of the first century of the Christian Era we may be said to quit the realms of classical history and to pass on to eclipse records of a different character, and, so far as regards European observations, of comparatively small scientific value or usefulness. Our information is largely derived from ecclesiastical historians and, later on, from monkish chronicles, which as a rule are meagre in a surprising degree. Perhaps I ought not to say “surprising,” because after the times of the Greek astronomers (who in their way may almost be regarded as professionals), and after the epoch of the famous Ptolemy, Astronomy well-nigh ceased to exist for many centuries in Europe, until, say, the 15th century, barring the labours of the Arabians and their kinsmen the Moors in Spain in the 9th and following centuries.

In examining therefore the records of eclipses which have been handed down to us from A.D. 100 forwards through more than 1000 years, I shall not offer my readers a long dry statement of eclipse dates, but only pick out here and there such particular eclipses as seem to present details of interest for some or other reason.

On April 12, 237 A.D., there was, according to Julius Capitolinus, an eclipse of the Sun, so great “that people thought it was night, and nothing could be done without lights.” Ricciolus remarked that this eclipse happened about the time of the Sixth Persecution of the Christians, and when the younger Gordian was proclaimed Emperor, after his father had declined the proffered dignity, being 80 years of age. The line of totality crossed Italy about 5 p.m. in the afternoon, to the N. of Rome, and embraced Bologna.

Calvisius records, on the authority of Cedrenus, an eclipse of the Sun on August 6, 324 A.D., which was sufficiently great for the stars to be seen at mid-day. The eclipse was associated with an earthquake, which shattered thirteen cities in Campania. Johnston remarks that no more than three-fourths of the Sun’s disc would have been covered, as seen in Campania, but that elsewhere in Italy, at about 3 p.m., the eclipse was much larger, and perhaps one or two of the planets might have been visible.

On July 17, 334 A.D., there was an eclipse, which seems to have been total in Sicily, if we may judge from the description given by Julius Firmicus.[67]

Ammianus Marcellinus[68] describes an eclipse, to which the date of August 28, 360 A.D., has been assigned. Humboldt, quoting this historian, says that the description is quite that of a solar eclipse, but its stated long duration (daybreak to noon), and the word caligo (fog or mist) are awkward factors. Moreover, the historian associates it with events which happened in the eastern provinces of the Roman Empire; but Johnston seems in effect to challenge Marcellinus’s statement when he says, “It is true that there was an annular eclipse of the Sun in the early morning on the above date, but it could only be seen in countries E. of the Persian Gulf.”

About the time that Alaric, King of the Visigoths appeared before Rome, there was a gloom so great that the stars appeared in the daytime. This narrative is considered to apply to an eclipse of the Sun, which occurred on June 18, 410 A.D. The eclipse was an annular one, but as the central line must have crossed far S. of Rome, the stars must have been seen not at Rome but somewhere else.

An eclipse occurred on July 19, 418 A.D., which is remarkable for a twofold reason. People had an opportunity not only of seeing an eclipse, but also a comet. We owe the account of the circumstances to Philostorgius,[69] who tells us that—“On July 19, towards the 8th hour of the day, the Sun was so eclipsed, that even the stars were visible. But at the same time that the Sun was thus hid, a light, in the form of a cone was seen in the sky; some ignorant people called it a comet, but in this light we saw nothing that announced a comet, for it was not terminated by a tail; it resembled the flame of a torch, subsisting by itself, without any star for its base. Its movement too was very different from that of a comet. It was first seen to the E. of the equinoxes; after that, having passed through the last star in the Bear’s tail, it continued slowly its journey towards the W. Having thus traversed the heavens, it at length disappeared, having lasted more than four months. It first appeared about the middle of the summer, and remained visible until nearly the end of autumn.”

Boillot, a French writer, has suggested that this description is that of the zodiacal light, but this seems out of the question in view of the details given by the Chinese of a comet having been visible in the autumn of this year for 11 weeks, and having passed through the square of Ursa Major. Reverting to the eclipse—Johnston finds that the greatest phase at Constantinople, which was probably the place of observation, occurred at about half an hour after noon, when a thin crescent of light might have been seen on the northern limb of the Sun. From this it would appear that the central line of eclipse must have passed somewhat to the south of Constantinople. To the same effect Hind, who found that 95⁄100ths of the Sun’s diameter was covered at Constantinople.

An eclipse of the Sun seems to be referred to by Gregorius Turonensis, when he says[70] that:—“Then even the Sun appeared hideous, so that scarcely a third part of it gave light, I believe on account of such deeds of wickedness and shedding of innocent blood.” This would seem to have been the eclipse which occurred on February 24, 453 A.D., when Attila and the Huns were ravaging Italy, and to them it was doubtless that the writer alluded. At Rome three-fourths of the Sun’s disc would have been eclipsed at sunset, a finding which tallies fairly with the statement of Gregorius.

It is not till far into the 6th century that we come upon a native English record of an eclipse of the Sun as having been observed in England. This deficiency in our national annals is thus judiciously explained and commented on by our clever and talented American authoress.[71] Speaking of the eclipse of February 15, 538 A.D., she says:—“The accounts, however, are greatly confused and uncertain, as would perhaps be natural fully 60 years before the advent of St. Augustine, and when Britain was helplessly harassed with its continual struggle in the fierce hands of West Saxons and East Saxons, of Picts and conquering Angles. Men have little time to record celestial happenings clearly, much less to indulge in scientific comment and theorising upon natural phenomena, when the history of a nation sways to and fro with the tide of battle, and what is gained to-day may be fatally lost to-morrow. And so there is little said about this eclipse, and that little is more vague and uncertain even than the monotonous plaints of Gildas—the one writer whom Britain has left us, in his meagre accounts of the conquest of Kent, and the forsaken walls and violated shrines of this early epoch.”

The well-known Anglo-Saxon Chronicle[72] is our authority for this eclipse having been noted in England, but the record is bare indeed:—“In this year the Sun was eclipsed 14 days before the Calends of March from early morning till 9 a.m.” Tycho Brahe, borrowing from Calvisius, who borrowed from somebody else, says that the eclipse happened “in the 5th year of Henry, King of the West Saxons, at the 1st hour of the day till nearly the 3rd, or immediately after sunrise.” Johnson finds that at London nearly three-fourths of the Sun’s disc was covered at 7.43 a.m.

The next eclipse recorded in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle is somewhat difficult to explain. It is said that in 540 A.D. “The Sun was eclipsed on the 12th of the Calends of July [= June 20], and the stars appeared full nigh half an hour after 9 a.m.” Johnson’s calculations make the middle of the eclipse to have occurred at about 7.37 a.m. at London, two-thirds of the Sun’s diameter being covered. He notes that the Moon’s semi-diameter was nearly at its maximum whilst the Sun’s semi-diameter was nearly at its minimum—a favourable combination for a long totality. The visibility of the stars seems difficult to explain in connection with this eclipse, and therefore he suggests that the annalist has made a mistake of four years and meant to refer to the eclipse of September 1, 536 A.D., but this does not seem a satisfactory theory.

The year after Pope Martin held a Synod to condemn the Monothelite heresy, an eclipse of the Sun took place. It is mentioned by Tycho Brahe in his catalogue of eclipses as having been seen in England. Johnson gives the date as February 6, 650 A.D., and finds that the Sun was three-fourths obscured at London at 3.30 p.m.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us under the year A.D. 664 that, “In this year the Sun was eclipsed on the 5th of the Nones of May; and Earcenbryht, King of the Kentish people died and Ecgbryht his son succeeded to the Kingdom.” Kepler thought this eclipse had been total in England, and Johnson calculating for London found that on May 1, at 5 p.m., there would only have been a very thin crescent of the Sun left uncovered on the southern limb, so that the line of totality would have passed across the country some distance to the N. of London.

The eclipse of Dec. 7, A.D. 671, seems to be associated with a comic tragedy. The Caliph Moawiyah had a fancy to remove Mahomet’s pulpit from Medina to his own residence at Damascus. “He said that the walking-stick and pulpit of the Apostle of God should not remain in the hands of the murderers of Othman. Great search was made for the walking-stick, and at last they found it. Then they went in obedience to his commands to remove the pulpit, when immediately, to their great surprise and astonishment, the Sun was eclipsed to that degree that the stars appeared.”[73] Once again the question of visible stars is in some sense a source of difficulty. Hind found that the eclipse was annular on the central line. At Medina the greatest phase occurred at 10h. 43m. a.m. when 85⁄100ths of the Sun’s diameter was obscured. Hind suggests that in the clear skies of that part of the world such a degree of eclipse might be sufficient to bring out the brighter planets or stars. At any rate no larger eclipse visible at Medina occurred about this epoch. Prof. Ockley seems to refer to this eclipse in making, on the authority of several Arabian writers, the mention he does of an eclipse in the quotation just given.

Perhaps this will be a convenient place to bring in some remarks on certain Arabian observations of eclipses only made known to the scientific world in modern times. That the Arabians were very capable practical astronomers has long been recognised as a well-established fact, and if it had not been for them there would have been a tremendous blank in the history of astronomy during at least six centuries from about the year A.D. 700 onwards. In the year 1804 there was published at Paris a French translation of an Arabian manuscript preserved at the University of Leyden of which little was known until near the end of the last century. The manuscript was then sent to Paris on loan to the French Government which caused a translation to be made by “Citizen” Caussin, and this was published under the title of Le Livre de la grande Table Hakénate.[74] Caussin was Professor of Arabic at the College of France. Newcomb considers this to contain the earliest exact astronomical observations of eclipses which have reached us. He remarks that some of the data left us by Ptolemy, Theon, Albategnius and others may be the results of actual observations, but in no case, so far as is known, have the figures of the actual observations been handed down. For example, we cannot regard “midnight” nor “the middle of an eclipse” as moments capable of direct observation without instruments of precision; but in the Arabian work under consideration we find definite statements of the altitudes of the heavenly bodies at the moments of the beginning and ending of eclipses—data not likely to be tampered with in order to agree with the results of calculation. The eclipses recorded are 28 in number and usually the beginning and end of them were observed. The altitudes are given sometimes only in whole degrees, sometimes in coarse fractions of a degree. The most serious source of error to be confronted in turning these observations to account arises from the uncertainty as to how long after the first contact the eclipse was perceived and the altitude taken; and how long before the true end was the eclipse lost sight of. Making the best use he could of the records available Newcomb found that they could safely be employed in his investigations into the theory of the Moon.

The observations were taken, some at Bagdad and the remainder at Cairo. I do not propose to occupy space by transcribing the accounts in detail, but one extract may be offered as a sample of the rest—“Eclipse of the Sun observed at Bagdad, August 18, 928 A.D. The Sun rose about one-fourth eclipsed. We looked at the Sun on a surface of water and saw it distinctly. At the end when we found no part of the Sun was any longer eclipsed, and that its disc appeared in the water as a complete circle, its altitude was 12° in the E., less the one-third of a division of the instrument, which itself was divided to thirds of a degree. One must therefore reduce the stated altitude by one-ninth of a degree, leaving, therefore, the true altitude as 11° 53′ 20″.” The skill and care shown in this record shows that the Arab who observed this eclipse nearly a thousand years ago must have been a man of a different type from an ordinary resident at Bagdad in the year 1899. No description is given of the instrument used, but presumably it was some kind of a quadrant. It does not appear why some of the observations were made at Bagdad and some at Cairo. The Bagdad observations commence with an eclipse of the Sun on November 30, 829, and end with an eclipse of the Moon on November 5, 933. The Cairo observations begin with an eclipse of the Sun on December 12, 977, and end with an eclipse of the Sun on January 24, 1004. These statements apply to the 25 observations which Newcomb considered were trustworthy enough to be employed in his researches, but he rejected three as imperfect.

I have broken away from the strict thread of chronological sequence in order to keep together the notes respecting Arabian observations of eclipses. Let us now revert to the European eclipses.

Under the date of A.D. 733, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us that, “In this year Æthelbald captured Somerton; and the Sun was eclipsed, and all the Sun’s disc was like a black shield; and Acca was driven from his bishopric.” Johnston suggests that the reference is to an annular eclipse which he finds occurred on August 14, at about 8¼ h. in the morning. In Schnurrer’s Chronik der Seuchen (pt. i., § 113, p. 164), it is stated that, “One year after the Arabs had been driven back across the Pyrenees after the battle of Tours, the Sun was so much darkened on the 19th of August as to excite universal terror.” It may be that the English eclipse is here referred to, and a date wrong by five days assigned to it by Schnurrer. Humboldt (Cosmos, vol. iv. p. 384, Bohn’s ed.) reports this eclipse in an enumeration he gives of instances of the Sun having been darkened.

On May 5, A.D. 840, there happened an eclipse of the Sun which, amongst other effects, is said to have so greatly frightened Louis Le Debonnaire (Charlemagne’s son) that it contributed to his death. The Emperor was taken ill at Worms, and having been removed to Ingelheim, an island in the Rhine, near Mayence, died there on June 20. Hind[75] found that this was a total eclipse, and that the northern limit of totality passed about 100 miles south of Worms. The middle of the eclipse occurred at 1h. 15m. p.m. with the Sun at an altitude of 57°. The duration of the eclipse was unusually long, namely about 5½ minutes. With the Sun so high and the obscuration lasting so long, this eclipse must have been an unusually imposing one, and well calculated to inspire special alarm.

On Oct. 29, 878, in the reign of King Alfred, there was a total eclipse visible at London. The mention of it in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle is as follows:—“The Sun was eclipsed at 1 hour of the day.” No month is given, and the year is said to have been 879, which is undoubtedly wrong. Hind found that the central line of the eclipse passed about 20 miles N. of London, and that the totality lasted 1m. 51s. Tycho Brahe in his Historia Cœlestis quotes from the Annales Fuldenses a statement that the Sun was so much darkened after the 9th hour that the stars appeared in the heavens.

Thorpe in his edition of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle quotes from Mr. Richard Price a note which assigns the date of March 14, 880, to this eclipse, and cites in confirmation a passage from the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, anno 879. The 880 eclipse is mentioned by Asser in his De Vitâ et Rebus gestis Alfredi in the words following:—“In the same year [879] an eclipse of the Sun took place between three o’clock and the evening, but nearer three o’clock.” The confusion of dates is remarkable.

In the Chronicon Scotorum, under the date of 885, we find:—“An eclipse of the Sun; and stars were seen in the heavens.” The reference appears to be to the total eclipse of June 16, A.D. 885. The totality lasted more than four minutes, and as the stars are said to have been visible in the North of Ireland, doubtless that part of Ireland came within the eclipse limits.

On Dec. 22, 968, there was an eclipse of the Sun, which was almost total at London at about 8h. 33m. a.m., or soon after sunrise. The central line passed across the S.-W. of England, and thence through France to the Mediterranean. One Leon, a deacon at Corfu, observed this eclipse, and has left behind what probably is the first perfectly explicit mention of the Corona.[76]

On Aug. 30, 1030, there happened an eclipse visible in Norway, which has already been alluded to on a previous page under the name of the “eclipse of Stiklastad.” This was one of those eclipses, the circumstances of which were examined many years ago in detail by Sir G. B. Airy,[77] because he thought that information of value might be obtained therefrom with respect to the motions of the Moon. Its availability for that purpose has, however, been seriously questioned by Professor Newcomb. Stiklastad is a place where a battle was fought, at which Olav, King of Norway, is said to have been killed. While the battle was in progress the Sun was totally eclipsed, and a red light appeared around it. This is regarded as an early record of the Corona, though not the first.[78] Johnston found that the eclipse was nearly total at about 2h. 21m. p.m.

In 1033 there happened on June 29 an eclipse of the Sun, which evidently had many observers, because it is mentioned by many contemporary writers. For instance, the French historian, Glaber,[79] says that “on the 3rd of the Calends of July there was an eclipse from the sixth to the eighth hour of the day exceedingly terrible. For the Sun became of a sapphire colour; in its upper part having the likeness of a fourth part of the Moon.” This sufficiently harmonises with Johnston’s calculations that about four-fifths of the Sun on the lower side was covered at 10h. 50m. in the morning.

CHAPTER XII.

ECLIPSES OF THE SUN MENTIONED IN HISTORY.—MEDIÆVAL AND MODERN.

One of the most celebrated eclipses of mediæval times was that of August 2, 1133, visible as a total eclipse in Scotland. It was considered a presage of misfortune to Henry I. and was thus referred to by William of Malmesbury[80]:—

“The elements manifested their sorrow at this great man’s last departure from England. For the Sun on that day at the 6th hour shrouded his glorious face, as the poets say, in hideous darkness agitating the hearts of men by an eclipse; and on the 6th day of the week early in the morning there was so great an earthquake that the ground appeared absolutely to sink down; an horrid noise being first heard beneath the surface.”

This eclipse is also alluded to in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle though the year is wrongly given as 1135 instead of 1133 as it certainly was. The Chronicle says:—“In this year King Henry went over sea at Lammas, and the second day as he lay and slept on the ship the day darkened over all lands; and the Sun became as it were a three-night-old Moon, and the stars about it at mid-day. Men were greatly wonder-stricken and affrighted, and said that a great thing should come hereafter. So it did, for the same year the king died on the following day after St. Andrew’s Mass day, Dec. 2, in Normandy.” The king did die in 1135, but there was no eclipse of the August new Moon, and without doubt the writer has muddled up the year of the eclipse and of the king’s departure from England (to which he never returned) and the year of his death. Calvisius states that this eclipse was observed in Flanders and that the stars appeared.

Respecting the above-mentioned discrepancy Mrs. Todd aptly remarks:—“So Henry must have died in 1133, which he did not; or else there must have been an eclipse in 1135, which there was not. But this is not the only labyrinth into which chronology and old eclipses, imagination, and computation, lead the unwary searcher.” Professor Freeman’s explanation fairly clears up the difficulty:—“The fact that he never came back to England, together with the circumstances of his voyage, seems to have made a deep impression on men’s minds. In popular belief the signs and wonders which marked his last voyage were transferred to the Lammas-tide before his death two years later.”[81] The central line of this eclipse traversed Scotland from Ross to Forfar and the eclipse was of course large in every part of the country. The totality lasted 4m. 20s. in Forfarshire.

Hind has furnished some further information respecting this eclipse. It appears that during the existence of the Kingdom of Jerusalem created by the Crusaders an eclipse occurred which would appear to have been total at Jerusalem or in its immediate neighbourhood. No date is given and a date can only be guessed, and Hind guessed that the eclipse of 1133 was the one referred to. He found that after leaving Scotland and crossing Europe the central line of the 1133 eclipse entered Palestine near Jaffa and passed over Jerusalem where the Sun was hidden for 4¼ minutes at about 3h. p.m. From Nablous on the N. to Ascalon on the S. the country was in darkness for nearly the same period of time. The alternative eclipses to this one would be those of Sept. 4, 1187, magnitude at Jerusalem 9⁄10ths of the Sun’s diameter; or June 23, 1191, magnitude at the same place about 7⁄10ths; but these do not seem to harmonise so well with the accounts handed down to us as does the eclipse of 1133.

In 1140, on March 20, there happened a total eclipse of the Sun visible in England which is thus referred to by William of Malmesbury[82]:—“During this year, in Lent, on the 13th of the Calends of April, at the 9th hour of the 4th day of the week, there was an eclipse, throughout England, as I have heard. With us, indeed, and with all our neighbours, the obscuration of the Sun also was so remarkable, that persons sitting at table, as it then happened almost everywhere, for it was Lent, at first feared that Chaos was come again: afterwards, learning the cause, they went out and beheld the stars around the Sun. It was thought and said by many, not untruly, that the King [Stephen] would not continue a year in the government.”

The same eclipse is also thus mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle:—“Afterwards in Lent the Sun and the day darkened about the noontide of the day, when men were eating, and they lighted candles to eat by; and that was the 13th of the Calends of April, March 20. Men were greatly wonder-stricken.” The greatest obscuration at London took place at 2h. 36m. p.m., but it is not quite clear whether the line of totality did actually pass over London.

It was long supposed that this eclipse was total at London, an idea which seems to have arisen from Halley having told the Royal Society anent the total eclipse of May 3, 1715, that he could not find that any total eclipse had been visible at London since March 20, 1140. In consequence of this statement of Halley’s, Hind carefully investigated the circumstances of this eclipse, and found that it had not been total at London. The central line entered our island at Aberystwith, and passing near Shrewsbury, Stafford, Derby, Nottingham, and Lincoln, reached the German Ocean, 10 miles S. of Saltfleet. The southern limit of the zone of totality passed through the South Midland counties, and the nearest point of approach to London was a point on the borders of Northamptonshire and Bedfordshire. For a position on the central line near Stafford, Hind found that the totality began at 2h. 36m. p.m. local mean time, the duration being 3m. 26s., and the Sun’s altitude being more than 30°. The stars seen were probably the planets Mercury and Venus, then within a degree of each other, and 10° W. of the Sun, and perhaps the stars forming the well-known “Square of Pegasus.” Mars and Saturn were also, at that time, within a degree of each other, but very near the western horizon. It is therefore necessary to look further back than 1140 to find a total solar eclipse visible in London.[83]

A solar eclipse seems to have been alluded to by certain historians as having happened in A.D. 1153. We have the obscure statement that “something singular happened to the Sun the day after the Conversion of St. Paul.” A somewhat large eclipse having been visible at Augsburg in Germany, on January 26, this may have been the “something” referred to. It would seem that about 11⁄12ths of the Sun’s diameter was covered.

On May 14, A.D. 1230, there happened a great eclipse of the Sun, thus described by Roger of Wendover[84]:—“On the 14th of May, which was the Tuesday in Rogation Week, an unusual eclipse of the Sun took place very early in the morning, immediately after sunrise; and it became so dark that the labourers, who had commenced their morning’s work, were obliged to leave it, and returned again to their beds to sleep; but in about an hour’s time, to the astonishment of many, the Sun regained its usual brightness.” This eclipse, as regards its total phase, is said by Johnston to have begun in the horizon, a little to the N. of London, in the early morning.

On June 3, A.D. 1239, and October 6, 1241, there occurred total eclipses of the Sun, which have been very carefully discussed by Professor Celoria of Milan, with the view of using them in investigations into the Moon’s mean motion.[85] The second of these eclipses is mentioned by Tycho Brahe.[86] He states that “a few stars appeared about noonday, and the Sun was hidden from sight in a clear sky.” The eclipse was total in Eastern Europe.

Dr. Lingard,[87] the well-known Roman Catholic historian, speaking of the battle of Cressy, which was fought on August 26, 1346, says:—“Never, perhaps, were preparations for battle made under circumstances so truly awful. On that very day the Sun suffered a partial eclipse: birds in clouds, precursors of a storm, flew screaming over the two armies; and the rain fell in torrents, accompanied with incessant thunder and lightning. About 5 in the afternoon, the weather cleared up, the Sun in full splendour darted his rays in the eyes of the enemy; and the Genoese, setting up their shouts, discharged their quarrels.” This was not an eclipse, for none was due to take place; and the phenomenon could only have been meteorological—dense clouds or something of that sort in the sky.

On June 16, 1406, there was a large eclipse of the Sun, 9⁄10ths of its diameter being covered at London; but on the Continent it seems to have been total. It is stated that the darkness was such that people could hardly recognise one another.

One of the most celebrated eclipses during the Middle Ages was undoubtedly that of June 17, 1433. This was long remembered in Scotland as the “Black Hour,” and its circumstances were fully investigated some years ago by Hind. It was a remarkable eclipse in that the Moon was within 13° of perigee and the Sun only 2° from apogee. The central line traversed Scotland in a south-easterly direction from Ross to Forfar, passing near Inverness and Dundee. Maclaurin[88] who lived in the early part of the last century mentions that in his time a manuscript account of this eclipse was preserved in the library of the University of Edinburgh wherein the darkness is said to have come on at about 3 p.m., and to have been very profound. The duration of the totality at Inverness was 4m. 32s.; at Edinburgh 3m. 41s. The central line passed from Britain to the N. of Frankfort-on-the-Maine, through Bavaria, to the Dardanelles, to the S. of Aleppo and thence nearly parallel to the river Euphrates to the N.-E. border of Arabia. In Turkey, according to Calvisius, “near evening the light of the Sun was so overpowered that darkness covered the land.”

In 1544, on Jan. 24, there occurred an eclipse of the Sun which was nearly but not quite total. The chief interest arises from the fact that it was one of the first observed by professed astronomers: Gemma Frisius saw it at Louvain.

Kepler says[89] that the day became dark like the twilight of evening and that the birds which from the break of day had been singing became mute. The middle of the eclipse was at about 9 a.m.

In 1560 an eclipse of the Sun took place which was total in Spain and Portugal. Clavius who observed it at Coimbra says[90] that “the Sun remained obscured for no little time: there was darkness greater than that of night, no one could see where he trod and the stars shone very brightly in the sky: the birds moreover, wonderful to say, fell down to the ground in fright at such startling darkness.” Kepler is responsible for the statement that Tycho Brahe did not believe this, and wrote to Clavius to that effect 40 years afterwards.

In 1567 there was an annular eclipse visible at Rome on April 9. Clavius says[91] that “the whole Sun was not eclipsed but that there was left a bright circle all round.” This in set terms is a description of an annular eclipse, but Johnston who calculated that at Rome the greatest obscuration took place at 20m. past noon points out that the augmentation of the Moon’s semi-diameter would almost have produced totality. Tycho tells us that he saw this eclipse on the shores of the Baltic when a young man about 20 years of age.

The total eclipse of February 25, 1598, long left a special mark on the memories of the people of Scotland. The day was spoken of as “Black Saturday.” Maclaurin states[92]:—“There is a tradition that some persons in the North lost their way in the time of this eclipse, and perished in the snow”—a statement which Hind discredits. The central line passed from near Stranraer, over Dalkeith, and therefore Edinburgh was within the zone of totality. Totality came on at Edinburgh at 10h. 15m. and lasted 1m. 30s. From the rapid motion of the Moon in declination, the course of the central line was a quickly ascending one in latitude on the Earth’s surface, the totality passing off within the Arctic circle.

Kepler in his account of the new star in the constellation Ophiuchus[93] refers to the total eclipse of the Sun of October 12, 1605, as having been observed at Naples, and that the “Red Flames” were visible as a rim of red light round the Sun’s disc: at least this seems to be the construction which may fairly be put upon the Latin of the original description.

The partial eclipse of the Sun of May 30, 1612, is recorded to have been seen “through a tube.” No doubt this is an allusion to the newly-invented instrument which we now call the telescope. Seemingly this is the first eclipse of the Sun so observed, but it is on record that an eclipse of the Moon had been previously observed through a telescope. This was the lunar eclipse of July 6, 1610, though the observer’s name has not been handed down to us.

The eclipse of April 8, 1652, is another of those Scotch eclipses, as we may call them, which left their mark on the people of that country. Maclaurin[94] speaks of it in his time (he died in 1746) as one of the two central eclipses which are “still famous among the populace in this country” [Scotland], and “known amongst them by the appellation of Mirk Monday.” The central line passed over the S.E. of Ireland, near Wexford and Wicklow, and reaching Scotland near Burrow Head in Wigtownshire, and passing not far from Edinburgh, Montrose and Aberdeen, quitted Scotland at Peterhead. Greenock and Elgin were near the northern limit of the zone of totality, and the Cheviots and Berwick upon the southern limit. The eclipse was observed at Carrickfergus by Dr. Wyberd.[95] Hind found that its duration there was but 44s. This short duration, he suggested, may partly explain the curious remark of Dr. Wyberd that when the Sun was reduced to “a very slender crescent of light, the Moon all at once threw herself within the margin of the solar disc with such agility that she seemed to revolve like an upper millstone, affording a pleasant spectacle of rotatory motion.” Wyberd’s further description clearly applies to the Corona. A Scotch account says that “the country people tilling, loosed their ploughs. The birds dropped to the ground.”

The eclipse of November 4, 1668, visible as a partial one in England, was of no particular interest in itself but deserves notice as having been observed by Flamsteed,[96] who gives a few diagrams of his observations at Derby. He states that the eclipse came on much earlier than had been predicted. It was well known at this time that the tables of the Sun and Moon then in use were very defective, and it was a recognition of this fact which eventually led to the foundation of the Greenwich Observatory in 1675.

On September 23, 1699, an eclipse of the Sun occurred which was total to the N. of Caithness for the very brief space of 10-15 secs. At Edinburgh, about 11⁄12ths of the Sun’s diameter was obscured. In the Appendix to Pepys’s Diary[97] there is a letter from Dr. Wallis mentioning that his daughter’s attention was called to it by noticing “the light of the Sun look somewhat dim” at about 9 a.m., whilst she was writing a letter, she knowing nothing of the eclipse.

An eclipse of the Sun occurred on May 12, 1706, which was visible as a partial eclipse in England and was total on the Continent, especially in Switzerland. A certain Captain Stannyan who made observations at Berne, writes thus to Flamsteed[98]:—“That the Sun was totally darkened there for four and a half minutes of time; that a fixed star and a planet appeared very bright; and that his getting out of his eclipse was preceded by a blood-red streak of light from its left limb, which continued not longer than six or seven seconds of time; then part of the Sun’s disc appeared all of a sudden as bright as Venus was ever seen in the night; nay, brighter; and in that very instant gave a light and shadow to things as strong as the Moon uses to do.”

On this communication Flamsteed remarks:—“The Captain is the first man I ever heard of that took notice of a red streak preceding the emersion of the Sun’s body from a total eclipse, and I take notice of it to you [the Royal Society], because it infers that the Moon has an atmosphere; and its short continuance, if only six or seven seconds’ time, tells us that its height was not more than five or six hundredths part of her diameter.”

On the whole, perhaps, the most celebrated eclipse of the Sun ever recorded in England was that of May 3, 1715. The line of totality passed right across England from Cornwall to Norfolk, and the phenomenon was carefully observed and described by the most experienced astronomer of the time, Dr. Edmund Halley. The line of totality passed over London amongst other places, and as the maximum phase took place soon after 9 a.m. on a fine spring morning, the inhabitants of the Metropolis saw a sight which their successors will not see again till many generations have come and gone. Halley has left behind him an exceedingly interesting account of this event, some allusions to which have already been made.

He seems to have seen what we call the Corona, described by him however as a “luminous ring,” “of a pale whiteness, or rather pearl colour, a little tinged with the colours of the Iris, and concentric with the Moon.” He speaks also of a dusky but strong red light which seemed to colour the dark edge of the Moon just before the Sun emerged from totality. Jupiter, Mercury, Venus, and the stars Capella and Aldebaran were seen in London, whilst N. of London, more directly under the central line, as many as twenty stars were seen.

The inhabitants of England who lived in the reign of George I. were singularly fortunate in their chances of seeing total eclipses of the Sun, for only nine years after[99] the one just described, namely, on May 22, 1724, another total eclipse occurred. The central line crossed some of the southern countries, and the phenomenon was well seen and reported on by Dr. Stukeley,[100] who stationed himself on Haraden Hill, near Salisbury. The Doctor says of the darkness that he seemed to “feel it, as it were, drop upon us ... like a great dark mantle,” and that during the totality the spectacle presented to his view “was beyond all that he had ever seen or could picture to his imagination the most solemn.” He could with difficulty discern the faces of his companions which had a ghastly startling appearance. When the totality was ending there appeared a small lucid spot, and from it ran a rim of faint brightness. In about 3½ minutes from this appearance the hill-tops changed from black to blue, the horizon gave out the grey streaks previous to morning dawn, and the birds sprang joyously into the air.

This eclipse seems to have had royal observers. It was watched at Kensington apparently by the King or some of the royal family of England, and at Trianon (Paris) by the King of France,[101] under the competent guidance of Maraldi, Cassini and De Louville. It was the last which was visible as a total one in any part of England.

On May 2, 1733, there was an eclipse of the Sun, which was total in Sweden and partial in England. In Sweden the total obscuration lasted more than 3 minutes. Jupiter, the stars in Ursa Major, Capella, and several other stars were visible to the naked eye, as also was a luminous ring round the Sun. Three or four spots of reddish colour were also perceived near the limb of the Moon, but not in immediate contact with it. These so-called red “spots” were doubtless the Red Flames of the present century, and the luminous ring the Corona.

On March 1, 1737, a good annular eclipse was observed at Edinburgh by Maclaurin.[102] In his account he says:—“A little before the annulus was complete a remarkable point or speck of pale light appeared near the middle of the part of the Moon’s circumference that was not yet come upon the disc of the Sun.... During the appearance of the annulus the direct light of the Sun was still very considerable, but the places that were shaded from his light appeared gloomy. There was a dusk in the atmosphere, especially towards the N. and E. In those chambers which had not their lights westwards the obscurity was considerable. Venus appeared plainly, and continued visible long after the annulus was dissolved, and I am told that other stars were seen by some.” Lord Aberdour mentions a narrow streak of dusky red light on the dark edge of the Moon immediately before the ring was completed, and after it was dissolved. No doubt this is a record of the “Red Flames.”

In 1748 Scotland was again favoured with a central eclipse, but it was only annular. The Earl of Morton[103] and James Short, the optician, who observed the phenomenon at Aberdour Castle, 10 miles N.-W. of Edinburgh, just outside the line of annularity, saw a brown coloured light stretching along the circumference of the Moon from each of the cusps. A “star” (probably the planet Venus) was seen to the E. of the Sun.

The annular eclipse of April 1, 1764, visible as such in North Kent, was the subject of the following quaint letter by the Rev. Dr. Stukeley:—