“To the Printer of Whitehall Evening Post,—

“In regard to the approaching solar eclipse of Sunday, April 1, I think it advisable to remark that, it happening in the time of divine service, it is desired you would insert this caution in your public paper. The eclipse begins soon after 9, the middle a little before 11, the end a little after 12. There will be no total darkness in the very middle, observable in this metropolis, but as people’s curiositys will not be over with the middle of the eclipse, if the church service be ordered to begin a little before 12, it will properly be morning prayer, and an uniformity preserved in our duty to the Supreme Being, the author of these amazing celestial movements,—

Yours,

Rector of St. Geo., Q.S.”[104]

The year 1766 furnishes the somewhat rare case of a total eclipse of the Sun observed on board ship on the high seas. The observers were officers of the French man-of-war the Comte d’Artois. Though the total obscuration lasted only 53 secs., there was seen a luminous ring about the Moon which had four remarkable expansions, situate at a distance of 90° from each other.[105] These expansions are doubtless those rays which we now speak of as “streamers” from the Corona.

Curiously enough the next important total eclipse deserving of notice was also observed at sea. This was the eclipse of June 24, 1778. The observer was the Spanish Admiral, Don Antonio Ulloa, who was passing from the Azores to Cape St. Vincent. The total obscuration lasted 4 minutes. The luminous ring presented a very beautiful appearance: out of it there issued forth rays of light which reached to the distance of a diameter of the Moon. Before it became very conspicuous stars of the 1st and 2nd magnitudes were distinctly visible, but when it attained its greatest brilliancy, only stars of the 1st magnitude could be perceived. “The darkness was such that persons who were asleep and happened to wake, thought that they had slept the whole evening and only waked when the night was pretty far advanced. The fowls, birds, and other animals on board took their usual position for sleeping, as if it had been night.”[106]

On Sept. 5, 1793, there happened an eclipse which, annular to the N. of Scotland, was seen and observed in England by Sir W. Herschel[107] as a partial eclipse. He made some important observations on the Moon on this occasion measuring the height of several of the lunar mountains. Considerations respecting the shape of one of the Moon’s horns led him to form an opinion adverse to the idea that there the Moon had an atmosphere.

Footnotes:

[79] Historiarum Sui Temporis, Lib. iv., cap. 9.

[80] Historia Novella, Lib. i., sec. 8.

[81] Norman Conquest, vol. v. p. 239.

[82] Historia Novella, Lib. ii., sec. 35.

[83] Letter in the Times, July 28, 1871.

[84] Rogerus de Wendover, Flores Historiarum, vol. ii. p. 535, Bohn’s ed.

[85] Sugli Eclissi Solari Totali del 3 Giugno 1239, e del 6 Ottobre 1241 in the Memorie del R. Istituto Lombardo di Scienze e Littere, vol. xiii. p. 275.

[86] Historia Cœlestis, vol. i. p. 38.

[87] Hist. Engl., vol. iii. chap. xviii. p. 50, 4to. ed.

[88] Phil. Trans., vol. xl. p. 194, 1737.

[89] Astronomiæ Pars Optica, c. viii. sec. 3; Opera Omnia, vol. ii. p. 315. Ed. Frisch, 1859.

[90] Quoted by Kepler, as above, at p. 315.

[91] Commentarius in Sacroboscum, cap. iv.; quoted in Kepler’s Astronomiæ Pars Optica, c. viii. sec. 3; Opera Omnia, vol ii. p. 316. Ed. Frisch, 1859.

[92] Phil. Trans., vol. xl. p. 193; 1737.

[93] De Stellâ Novâ in Pede Serpentarii, p. 115; Pragæ, 1606.

[94] Phil. Trans., vol. xl. p. 193; 1737.

[95] V. Wing, Astronomia Britannica, p. 355.

[96] Historia Cœlestis, vol. i. pp. 7 and 21.

[97] Diary of Samuel Pepys, vol. vi. p. 208; Ed. M. Bright, 1879.

[98] Phil. Trans., vol. xxv. p. 2240; 1706.

[99] Being half a Saros period (see p. 20, ante).

[100] Itinerarium Curiosum, 2nd ed., vol. i. p. 180.

[101] Mem. de Mathématique et de Physique de l’Acad. des Sciences, 1724, p. 259.

[102] Phil. Trans., vol. xl. pp. 181, 184. 1737.

[103] Phil. Trans., vol. xlv. p. 586. 1750. This is the man who under the designation of “Lord Aberdour” observed the eclipse of 1737 (ante).

[104] Rev. W. Stukeley, Rector of St. George’s, Queen’s Square, London, Diary, vol. xx. p. 44, ed. “Surtees Soc.,” vol. lxxvi. p. 384.

[105] Le Gentil, Voyage dans les Mers de l’Inde, vol. ii. p. 16. Paris, 1769.

[106] Phil. Trans., vol. lxix. p. 105. 1779.

[107] Phil. Trans., vol. lxxxiv. p. 39. 1794.

CHAPTER XIII.

ECLIPSES OF THE SUN DURING THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.

Observations of total solar eclipses during the 19th century have been, for the most part, carried on under circumstances so essentially different from everything that has gone before, that not only does a new chapter seem desirable but also new form of treatment. Up to the beginning of the 18th century the observations (even the best of them) may be said to have been made and recorded with but few exceptions by unskilled observers with no clear ideas as to what they should look for and what they might expect to see. Things improved a little during the 18th century and the observations by Halley, Maclaurin, Bradley, Don Antonio Ulloa, Sir W. Herschel, and others in particular rose to a much higher standard than any which had preceded them. However, it has only been during the 19th century, and especially during the latter half of it, that total eclipses of the Sun have been observed under circumstances calculated to extract from them large and solid extensions of scientific knowledge. Inasmuch as it has been deemed convenient to sort out and classify our knowledge under particular heads in previous chapters, I shall in this chapter speak only of the leading facts of each eclipse in such an outline form as will avoid as far as possible unnecessary repetition.

In 1806 a total eclipse of the Sun occurred, visible in N. America. Observations made in the United States have been handed down to us. Don Joachin Ferrer, a Spanish astronomer, observed the eclipse at Kinderhook in the State of New York. The totality lasted more than 4½ m.—a somewhat unusual length of time. One or two planets and a few 1st magnitude stars were seen. During the totality there was a slight fall of dew.

On Nov. 19, 1816, there occurred the first total eclipse of the Sun in the 19th century, the central line of which passed over Europe. There is only one known observation of the total phase, and this was by Hagen at Culm in Bohemia, but he appears to have seen only the beginning of the totality and not the whole of it.

A partial eclipse of the Sun visible as such in England but which was annular in the Shetland Isles took place on Sept. 7, 1820. The only reason why this is worth mention is for its political associations. The trial of Queen Caroline was going on in the House of Lords, and the House suspended its sitting for a short time for the sake of the eclipse.

On May 15, 1836, there occurred an annular eclipse of the Sun, which though it was nowhere total, may be looked upon as the first of the modern eclipses the observations of which have taken such a great development during recent years. The annularity of this eclipse was observed in the N. of England and in the S. of Scotland; and it was at Jedburgh in Roxburghshire that Mr. Francis Baily[108] observed that feature of eclipses of the Sun now universally known as “Baily’s Beads.” Some indications of the Red Flames were also obtained at places where the eclipse was annular.

Probably it was the recognition of Baily’s Beads as a regular concomitant of eclipses of the Sun, which helped to pave the way for the extensive preparations made in France, Italy, Austria, and Russia for observing the total eclipse of July 8, 1842. Many of the most eminent astronomers of Europe repaired to different stations on the central line in order to see the phenomenon. Amongst these may be named Arago, Valz, Airy, Carlini, Santini, and O. Struve. The eclipse was witnessed under favourable circumstances at all the various stations on the central line across Europe, from Perpignan in France in the West to Lipesk in Russia in the East.

Arago wrote[109] such an exceedingly graphic account of this eclipse from what may be termed the standpoint of the general public, that I will quote it at some length, because, with an alteration of date, it might be re-written and applied to every total eclipse visible in much populated tracts of country.

“At Perpignan persons who were seriously unwell alone remained within doors. As soon as day began to break the population covered the terraces and battlements of the town, as well as all the little eminences in the neighbourhood, in hopes of obtaining a view of the Sun as he ascended above the horizon. At the citadel we had under our eyes, besides numerous groups of citizens established on the slopes, a body of soldiers about to be reviewed.

“The hour of the commencement of the eclipse drew nigh. More than twenty thousand persons, with smoked glasses in their hands, were examining the radiant globe projected upon an azure sky. Although armed with our powerful telescopes, we had hardly begun to discern the small notch on the western limb of the Sun, when an immense exclamation, formed by the blending together of twenty thousand different voices, announced to us that we had anticipated by only a few seconds the observation made with the unaided eye by twenty thousand astronomers equipped for the occasion, whose first essay this was. A lively curiosity, a spirit of emulation, the desire of not being outdone, had the privilege of giving to the natural vision an unusual power of penetration. During the interval that elapsed between this moment and the almost total disappearance of the Sun we remarked nothing worthy of relation in the countenances of so many spectators. But when the Sun, reduced to a very narrow filament, began to throw upon the horizon only a very feeble light, a sort of uneasiness seized upon all; every person felt a desire to communicate his impressions to those around him. Hence arose a deep murmur, resembling that sent forth by the distant ocean after a tempest. The hum of voices increased in intensity as the solar crescent grew more slender; at length the crescent disappeared, darkness suddenly succeeded light, and an absolute silence marked this phase of the eclipse with as great precision as did the pendulum of our astronomical clock. The phenomenon in its magnificence had triumphed over the petulance of youth, over the levity which certain persons assume as a sign of superiority, over the noisy indifference of which soldiers usually make profession. A profound stillness also reigned in the air; the birds had ceased to sing. After an interval of solemn expectation, which lasted about two minutes, transports of joy, shouts of enthusiastic applause, saluted with the same accord, the same spontaneous feeling, the first reappearance of the rays of the Sun. To a condition of melancholy produced by sentiments of an indefinable nature there succeeded a lively and intelligible feeling of satisfaction which no one sought to escape from or moderate the impulses of. To the majority of the public the phenomenon had arrived at its term. The other phases of the eclipse had few attentive spectators beyond the persons devoted especially to astronomical pursuits.”

The total eclipse of July 28, 1851, may be said to have been the first which was the subject of an “Eclipse Expedition,” a phrase which of late years has become exceedingly familiar. The total phase was visible in Norway and Sweden, and great numbers of astronomers from all parts of Europe flocked to those countries. Amongst those who went from England were Sir G. B. Airy, the Astronomer Royal (then Mr. Airy), Mr. J. R. Hind and Mr. Lassell. The Red Flames were very much in evidence, and the fact that they belonged to the Sun and not to the Moon was clearly established. Hind mentions that “the aspect of Nature during the total eclipse was grand beyond description.” This feature is dwelt upon with more than usual emphasis in many of the published accounts. I have never seen it suggested that the mountainous character of the country may have had something to do with it, but that idea would seem not improbable.

In the year 1858, two central eclipses of the Sun occurred, both presenting some features of interest. That of March 15 was annular, the central line passing across England from Lyme Regis in Dorsetshire to the Wash, traversing portions of Somersetshire, Wiltshire, Berkshire, Oxfordshire, Northamptonshire, Lincolnshire, and Norfolk. The weather generally was unfavourable and the annular phase was only observed at a few places, but important meteorological observations were made and yielded results, as regards the diminution of temperature, which were very definite. All over the country rooks and pigeons were seen returning home during the greatest obscuration; starlings in many places took flight; at Oxford a thrush commenced its evening song; at Ventnor a fish in an aquarium, ordinarily visible in the evening only, was in full activity about the time of greatest gloom; and generally, it was noted that the birds stopped singing and flew low from bush to bush. The darkness, though nowhere intense, was everywhere very appreciable and decided. The second central eclipse of 1858 took place on September 7 and was observed in Peru by Lieutenant Gilliss of the U.S. Navy. The totality only lasted one minute, and the general features of a total eclipse do not appear to have been very conspicuously visible. Gilliss remarks[110]:—“Two citizens of Olmos stood within a few feet of me, watching in silence, and with anxious countenances, the rapid and fearful decrease of light. They were wholly ignorant that any sudden effect would follow the total obscuration of the Sun. At that instant one exclaimed in terror “La Gloria,” and both, I believe, fell to their knees, filled with awe. They appreciated the resemblance of the Corona to the halos with which the old masters have encircled their ideals of the heads of our Saviour and the Madonna, and devoutly regarded this as a manifestation of the Divine Presence.”

The year 1860 saw the departure from England of the first great Ship Expedition to see an eclipse. One was due to happen on July 18, and a large party went out from England to Spain in H.M.S. Himalaya. Mr. De La Rue took a very well-equipped photographic detachment, and his photographs were eminently successful. This eclipse settled for ever the doubt as to whether the Red Flames belonged to the Sun or the Moon, and in favour of the former view.

The years 1868, 1869, and 1870 were each marked by total eclipses, which were observed to a greater or less extent. In the first-named year the eclipse occurred on August 18, the central line passing across India. The weather was not everywhere favourable, but several expeditions were dispatched to the East Indies. The spectroscope was largely brought into play with the immediate result of showing that the Corona was to be deemed a sort of atmosphere of the Sun, not self-luminous, but shining by reflected light. The eclipse of 1869 was observed by several well-equipped parties in the United States, and a very complete series of excellent photographs was obtained.

To view the eclipse of December 22, 1870, several expeditions were dispatched, the central line passing over some very accessible places in Spain, Sicily, and North Africa. The English observers went chiefly in H.M.S. Urgent, though some of them travelled overland to Sicily. The expenses, both of the sea and land parties, were to a large extent defrayed by Her Majesty’s Government. It deserves to be noted that so great was the anxiety of the French astronomer Janssen to see this eclipse, that he determined to try and escape in a balloon from Paris (then besieged by the Germans) and succeeded, carrying his instruments with him. The weather seriously interfered with the work of all the observers who went out to see this eclipse, which was the more to be regretted because the preparations had been on a very extensive and costly scale. The chief result was that it was ascertained that the Red Flames (hence forward generally called “Prominences”) are composed of hydrogen gas in an incandescent state.

The year 1871 saw, on December 12, another Indian eclipse, noteworthy for the numerous and excellent photographs which were obtained of the Corona, of the rifts in it, and of the general details, which were well recorded on the plates.

There was an eclipse visible in South Africa on April 16, 1874. Some useful naked eye views were obtained and recorded, but as no photographic work was done, this eclipse cannot be said to come into line with those which preceded or followed it.

In the following year, that is to say on April 6, 1875, there was a total eclipse of the Sun, visible in the far East, especially Siam; but the distance from England, coupled with the very generally unfavourable weather, prevented this from being anything more than a second-class total eclipse, so to speak, although extensive preparations had been made, and the sum of £1000 had been granted by the British Government towards the expenses. A certain number of photographs were obtained, but none of any very great value.

Perhaps of the next eclipse which we have to consider, it may be said that the circumstances were more varied than those of any other during the second half of the 19th century. The eclipse in question occurred on July 29, 1878.

Several favourable circumstances concurred to make it a notable event. In the first place, the central line passed entirely across the United States; in other words, across a long stretch of inhabited and civilised territory, accessible from both sides to a nation well provided with the requisite scientific skill and material resources of every kind. But there was another special and rare facility available: the central line crossed the chain of the Rocky Mountains, an elevated locality, which an American writer speaks of as overhung by “skies of such limpid clearness, that on several evenings Jupiter’s satellites were seen with the naked eye.” On the summit of a certain peak, known as Pike’s Peak, a party of skilled observers, headed by Professor Langley, observed the wonderful developments of the Corona, mentioned on a previous page. The fact that such a display came under the eyes of man was no doubt mainly due to the superbly clear atmosphere through which the observations were made. That this is not a mere supposition may be inferred from the fact that at the lower elevation of only 8000 feet, instead of 14,000 feet, the Coronal streamers were seen by Professor Newcomb’s party, far less extended than Langley saw them. Perhaps the best proof of the importance of a diaphanous sky is to be found in the fact that on the summit of Pike’s Peak, the Corona remained visible for fully 4 minutes after the total phase had come to an end. A comparison of the descriptions shows that even at the elevation of 10,200 ft. the observers placed there, whilst they were better off than those at 8000 ft., assuredly did not see so much or so well as those at 14,000 ft.

There occurred a total eclipse on July 11, 1880, visible in California, but as the totality lasted only 32 secs. and the Sun’s elevation was only 11°, not much was got out of this eclipse notwithstanding that it was observed in a cloudless sky at a station 6000 ft. above the sea.

The eclipse of May 17, 1882, yielded several interesting and important features although the totality was short—only about 1¼ minutes. Here again favourable local circumstances helped astronomers in more ways than one. It was in Egypt that the eclipse was visible, and Egypt is a country which it is exceedingly easy for travellers to reach, and it is also noted for its clear skies. These were doubtless two of the reasons which combined to inspire the elaborate preparations which were made for photographic and spectroscopic observations. The former resulted in a very unprecedented success. One of Dr. Schuster’s photographs of the totality showed not only the expected Corona, but an unexpected comet.

Though on more than one previous occasion in history the darkness which is a special accompaniment of a total eclipse had caused a comet to be seen, yet the 1882 eclipse was the first at which a comet had thrust itself upon the notice of astronomers by means of a photographic plate. It will be remembered that the political circumstances of Egypt in 1882 were of a somewhat strained character and probably this contributed to the development of an unusual amount of astronomical competition in connection with this eclipse. Not only did the Egyptian Government grant special facilities, but strong parties went out representing England, France, and Italy, although not perhaps in set terms at the direct instigation of their respective Governments.

The next eclipse, that of May 6, 1883, had some dramatic features about it. To begin with its duration was unusually long—nearly 5½ minutes, and Mrs. Todd in her genial American style remarks:—“After the frequent manner of its kind, the path lay where it would be least useful—across the wind-swept wastes of the Pacific. But fortunately one of a small group of coral islands lay quite in its line, and, nothing daunted, the brave scientific men set their faces toward this friendly cluster, in cheerful faith that they could locate there. Directed to take up their abode somewhere on a diminutive island about which nothing could be ascertained beforehand, save the bare fact of its existence at a known spot in mid-ocean, the American observers were absent from the United States more than three months, most of which time was spent in travelling, 15,000 miles in all, with ten full weeks at sea. Their tiny foothold in the Pacific was Caroline Island, a coral atoll on the outskirts of the Marquesas group.”

In spite of the unattractive, not to say forbidding, character of the place to which they would have to go, parties of astronomers went out from England, France, Austria, and Italy, and although rain fell on the morning of the day the sky became quite clear by the time of totality and the observations were completely successful. One of the pictures of the Corona obtained by Trouvelot, an observer of French descent, but belonging to the American party, has been often reproduced in books and exhibited the Corona in a striking form. How few were the attractions of Caroline Island as an eclipse station may be judged from the fact that the inhabitants consisted of only four native men, one woman, and two children who lived in three houses and two sheds.

On September 8, 1885, there occurred a total eclipse, which was seen as such in New Zealand, but the observations were few, and with one exception, unimportant and uninteresting. A certain Mr. Graydon, however, made a sketch which showed at one point a complete break in the Corona so that from the very edge of the Moon outwards into space, there was a long and narrow black space showing nothing but a vacuity. If this was really the condition of things, such a break in the Corona is apparently quite unprecedented.

In 1886, on August 29, there occurred a total eclipse, visible in the West Indies, which yielded various important results. It was unfortunate that for the greater part of its length, the zone of totality covered ocean and not land, the only land being the Island of Grenada and some adjacent parts of South America. The resulting restriction as regards choice of observing stations was the more to be regretted because the duration of the totality was so unusually long, and therefore favourable, being more than 6½ minutes in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Parties of English, American, and Italian astronomers assembled, however, at Grenada, and though the weather was not the best possible, some interesting photographs were obtained which exhibited an unusual development of hydrogen protuberances. The central line in this eclipse not only stretched right across the Atlantic, but entered Africa on the West Coast where a missionary saw the eclipse as a mere spectator, and afterwards expressed his regret that no astronomers were within reach with instruments to record the remarkable Corona which was displayed to his gaze.

Though the unusual opportunities which, so far as the Sun and the Moon were concerned, were afforded by the eclipse of 1886 were lost, astronomers looked out hopefully for August 19, 1887, when another eclipse was due to happen which, weather permitting, would be observable over a very long stretch of land, from Berlin through Russia and Siberia to Japan. Unusually extensive preparations were made in Russia at one end and in Japan at the other, but clouds prevailed very generally, and the pictures of the Corona which were obtained fell far short in number and quality from what had been hoped for, having regard to the number and importance of the stations chosen, and of the astronomers who made their preparations thereat. An enthusiastic Russian, in the hopes of emancipating himself from the risks of terrestrial weather at the Earth’s surface, went up in a balloon to an elevation of more than two miles. His enthusiasm was so far rewarded that he had a very clear view of a magnificent Corona; but as, owing to some mischance, the balloon rose, conveying only the astronomer and leaving behind his assistant who was to have managed the balloon, all his time was engrossed by the management of the balloon, and he could do very little in the way of purely astronomical work.

The year 1889 afforded two total eclipses of the Sun for which the usual preparations were made. The first occurred on New Year’s Day, and the path of the shadow crossed the North American Continent from California to Manitoba. The weather was nearly everywhere very favourable, and an enormous number of observers and instruments were assembled along the central line. The consequence was that a very large number of photographs were obtained. It may be said generally of this eclipse, that as it coincided with a Sun-spot minimum, it left us in a position to learn very distinctly what are the characteristic features of a solar Corona at a period which is one of rest and repose on the Sun, at least, so far as regards visible Sun-spots.

The second eclipse of 1889 occurred on December 22, and should have been visible off the northern coast of South America and on the West Coast of Africa. Attempts were made to utilise the South American chances by English and American parties, whilst a small expedition comprising astronomers of both nations went to Cape Ledo in West Africa. The African efforts failed entirely owing to clouds, but the South American parties at Cayenne were successful. One very deplorable result, however, arising out of the expedition to Cayenne was the illness and subsequent death of the Rev. S. J. Perry, S.J., who was struck down by malaria and died at sea on the return journey. None who knew Mr. Perry personally could fail to realise what a loss he was both to astronomy generally and to his own circle of friends particularly.

On April 16, 1893, there happened a total eclipse of the Sun, which was successfully watched by a large number of skilled observers throughout its entire length. Indeed it is believed that only one party was unsuccessful. The line of totality started on the coast of Chili, passed over the highlands of that country, across the borders of Argentina and Paraguay, and over the vast plains and forests of Central Brazil, emerging at about noon of local time at a short distance to the N.-W. of Ceara on the North Atlantic seaboard. Crossing the Atlantic nearly at its narrowest part, it struck the coast of Africa N. of the river Gambia, and finally disappeared somewhere in the Sahara. The South American observations were the most extensive and successful, the latter fact being due to the circumstance that the sky at many of the principal stations was pre-eminently favourable, owing to the clearness and dryness of the atmosphere.

On Sept. 29, 1894, there was a total eclipse of the Sun, but as its duration was brief and the zone of totality lay chiefly over the Indian Ocean, practically nothing came of it.

Things seemed, however, much more promising for the total eclipse of Aug. 9, 1896, and a very large number of observers went out to the North of Norway hoping to catch the shadow at its European end, whilst a yacht party went to Nova Zembla in the Arctic Ocean, and a few observers travelled as far as Japan. So far as the very large number of would-be observers who went from England to Norway were concerned, the eclipse was a profound disappointment, for owing to bad weather practically nothing was seen in Norway except on the West coast near Bodö, where the weather was beautifully fine, but where no adequate preparations had been made, because nobody believed that the coast would be free from fog. Exceptionally fine weather prevailed at Nova Zembla, and the small but select party who were kindly taken there by the late Sir G. B. Powell, M.P., in his yacht, were very fortunate, and an excellent series of photographs was secured. One important result obtained at Nova Zembla was a full confirmation by Mr. Shackleton of Prof. Young’s discovery in 1870 of the “Reversing Layer,” a discovery which was long and vehemently disputed by Sir Norman Lockyer. Fairly successful observations were made of this eclipse in Siberia and Japan.

The last total eclipse of the Sun which has to be noticed as an accomplished fact was the “Indian Eclipse” of Jan. 22, 1898, which was very successfully seen by large numbers of people who went to India from all parts of the world. As usual in all total eclipses of the Sun nowadays, the photographers were very much to the front, and the photographs of the inner Corona, taken by the Astronomer Royal, are thought to have been probably the best that have yet been done. Amongst the miscellaneous observations made, it may be mentioned that more stars were seen during the second partial phases than during totality (a circumstance which had been noticed by Don A. Ulloa as far back as 1778). It is stated also that a mysterious object was seen between Mars and Venus by two officers of H.M.S. Melpomene, which was not put down on the published chart as a star to be looked for. The identity of this object has not been ascertained.

Footnotes:

[108] Memoirs, R.A.S., vol. x. p. 5.

[109] L’Annuaire, 1846, p. 303.

[110] Month. Not., R.A.S., vol. xx. p. 301; May 1860.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH AS APPLIED TO ECLIPSES OF THE SUN.

Amongst the auxiliary agencies which have been brought into use in recent years, to enable astronomers the better to carry out systematic observations of eclipses of the Sun, the electric telegraph occupies a place which may hereafter become prominent. As it is not likely that this little book will fall into the hands of any persons who would be able to make much use of telegraphy in connection with eclipse observations, it will not be necessary to give much space to the matter, but a few outlines will certainly be interesting. When the idea of utilising the telegraph wire first came into men’s minds, it was with the object of enabling observers who saw the commencement of an eclipse at one end of the line of totality, to give cautionary notices to observers farther on, or towards the far end, of special points which had been seen at the beginning of the totality, and as to which confirmatory observations, at a later hour, were evidently very desirable. It is obvious that a scheme of this kind depends for its success upon each end (or something like it) of the line of totality being in telegraphic communication with the other end, and this involves a combination of favourable circumstances not likely to exist at every occurrence of a total eclipse, and in general only likely to prevail in the case of eclipses visible over inhabited territory, such as the two Americas, Europe, and parts of Asia. This use of the telegraph was, I think, first proposed as far back as 1878, by an American astronomer, in connection with the total eclipse of that year. His proposal fell upon sympathetic ears, with the result that arrangements were concluded with the Western Union Telegraph Company of North America for the expeditious forwarding of messages from northern stations on the eclipse line to southern stations. Some attention was being given at that time to the question of Intra-Mercurial planets, and it was thought that if by good fortune any such objects were unexpectedly found at the northern station, and observers at a southern station could be advised of the fact, there might be a better chance of procuring an accurate and precise record of the discovery. As it happened, nothing came of it on that occasion, but the idea of utilising the telegraph having once taken possession of men’s minds, it was soon seen what important possibilities were opened up.

The want of telegraph organisation curiously made itself felt in the Egyptian eclipse of 1882. It is stated in another chapter of this work that during the total phase a comet was unexpectedly discovered. Now comets sometimes move very rapidly (especially when they are near the Sun), and had it been possible to have warned some observer to the E. of Egypt to look out for this comet, and had he seen it even only a couple of hours after it had been found in Egypt, some data respecting its position might have been obtained which would have permitted a rough estimate being formed of its movement through the heavens. Such an estimate might have enabled astronomers to have hunted up the comet at sunset or sunrise on the days immediately following the eclipse. As it happened, however, the comet was not seen again in 1882, and, so far as we know, may never be seen again.

It was not till 1889 that a complete organisation of a telegraph service in connection with an eclipse was accomplished. The eclipse of January 1 of that year began in the Pacific and the line of totality touched land in California, passing across North America to Manitoba. The first Californian station was at Willows, and was occupied by a party from Harvard College Observatory, who were supplied with an unusually complete equipment of photographic apparatus, together with a large camera for charting all the stars in the neighbourhood of the Sun, so as to detect an Intra-Mercurial planet if one existed. The telegraph scheme which had to be worked out was somewhat complicated, and one of the chief actors in the scene has furnished a fairly full account of what was done. First of all, a complete list of the instruments and of the work proposed to be done by them had to be prepared. The weather probabilities being everywhere very unsatisfactory, there was a possibility of all degrees of success or failure, and one thing which had to be prearranged for each station was a cypher code which should be available for all the likely combinations of instruments, weather and results. It was found that about one hundred words would suffice for the necessary code, including words which would indicate in a sufficiently precise manner the position of any new planet which a photograph might disclose.

The following, being a part of the code prescribed for use at Willows, will serve to indicate the nature of the whole scheme:—

Africa,Perfectly clear throughout the whole eclipse.
Alaska,Perfectly clear during totality.
Belgium,Clear sky for the partial phases, but cloudy for totality.
Bolivia,Entirely cloudy throughout the whole eclipse.
Brazil,Observed all the contacts.
Bremen,Observed three of the contacts.
Ceylon,Made observations on the shadow-bands.
Chili,Observed lines of the reversing layer visually.
China,The Corona showed great detail.
Cork,Obtained 40-50 negatives during totality.
Corsica,Obtained 50-60 negatives during totality.
Crimea,Obtained 60-70 negatives during totality.
Cuba,Observed a comet.

Upwards of twenty codes were prepared for the like number of stations, and the observers were to report their results at the earliest possible moment. On a rehearsal of the programme the thought occurred that the sending and reception of so many cypher messages in the ordinary course of business might lead to delays which would be productive of serious inconvenience, and that the success of the whole scheme could be only well assured if a special wire, in direct circuit from New York to the eclipse stations in turn, could be dedicated to the work. Thanks to the liberality of the Western Union Telegraph Company this privilege was secured, and a branch wire was led across from the Company’s New York office to the office of the New York Herald, which journal had undertaken to be responsible for the non-astronomical part of the business.

Mrs. Todd gives the following account of the final arrangements, and of how they began to work when the moment for action arrived:—“From San Francisco every California observer was within easy telegraphic reach, and the wire thus extended by direct circuit to each eclipse station in turn. From the editorial rooms of the Herald Professor Todd was in immediate communication with any observers whom he chose to call. As previously intimated, arrangements had been made with the Harvard astronomers at Willows to receive their message first and with the utmost despatch, in order to test the feasibility of outstripping the Moon. Shortly before 5 o’clock in the afternoon despatches began to come in. Of course a slight delay was unavoidable, as the observers at the various stations were some rods distant from the local telegraph offices, and it would take a few minutes after the eclipse was over to prepare the suitable message from the cypher code. On the astronomer’s table in the Herald office were a large map and a chronometer. The latter indicated exact Greenwich time, and the former showed the correct position of the Moon’s shadow at the beginning of every minute by the chronometer. In this way it was possible to follow readily the precise phase of the eclipse at every station. About the rooms and accessible for immediate use were arranged the cypher codes pertaining to the several stations and other papers necessary in preparing the reports for the press. Everything being, as was supposed, in working order, New York about a quarter of an hour before totality commenced inquired of Willows the state of the weather. The answer was that the sky was getting dark, and that there were no clouds anywhere near the Sun. At that time the Moon’s shadow was travelling across the open waters of the Pacific. It rapidly rushed along; totality came and went at Willows; a two minutes’ glimpse of the Corona was had, and the Corona swept rapidly eastwards. After a brief interval Professor Pickering sent off from Willows a telegram which began—“Alaska, China, Corsica,” and then the connection failed. The break was located somewhere between California and Utah, and more than half an hour elapsed ere the circuit was re-established, and the rest of the message received. The remainder of the thrilling incidents of that eventful day cannot possibly be better told than in Mrs. Todd’s crisp and striking language[111]:—

“During this interval the lunar shadow, advancing over Montana and Dakota, had left the Earth entirely, sweeping off again into space. Still, however, the prospect that the telegraph might win the race was hopeful. Had New York been located in the eclipse path as well as Willows, with both stations symmetrically placed, the total eclipse would have become visible at New York about an hour and a quarter after the shadow had left California. Thus there was time to spare. Having recovered the wire, Professor Pickering’s message was completed at 10h. 36m. [G.M.T.], the cypher translated, and the stenographer’s notes were written out and despatched to the composing-room six minutes later. The “copy” was quickly put in type, and the hurried proof handed to Professor Todd at 10h. 50m., exactly an hour of absolute time after the observations were concluded. Had the Moon’s shadow been advancing from California toward New York, there was still a margin of several minutes before the eclipse could become total at the latter place. In point of fact, while the proof sheet of the first message was being read, the lunar shadow would have been loitering among the Alleghanies. Man’s messenger had thus outrun the Moon. The telegraphic reports of the other astronomers were gradually gathered and put in type, and the forms of the Herald were ready for the stereotyper at the proper time, some two hours after midnight. At 3 o’clock a.m. the European mails closed, and the pouches put on board the steamship Aller carried the usual copies for the foreign circulation. Within twenty-four hours after the observations of the eclipse were made near the Pacific coast, the results had been telegraphed to the Atlantic seaboard, collected and printed, and the papers were well out on their journey to European readers.”

The foregoing narrative will make amply clear the future possibilities of telegraphy as a coadjutor of Astronomy in the observation of total eclipses of the Sun. And if the will and the funds are forthcoming, the eclipse of May 28, 1900, will afford an excellent opportunity of again putting to the test the excellent ideas of which our American friends worked out so successfully ten years ago. The zone of totality in that eclipse passing as it will through so many of the densely populated Southern States of North America, and then through Portugal, Spain, and Algiers, great facilities will present themselves for telegraphic combinations, if political and financial difficulties do not interfere.