A Popular History of Astronomy During the Nineteenth Century / Fourth Edition

by Agnes M. Clerke

The next promising eclipse occurred May 17, 1882. The concourse of astronomers which has become usual on such occasions assembled this time at Sohag, in Upper Egypt. Rarely have seventy-four seconds been turned to such account. To each observer a special task was assigned, and the advantages of a strict division of labour were visible in the variety and amount of the information gained.

The year 1882 was one of numerous sun-spots. On the eve of the eclipse twenty-three separate maculæ were counted. If there were any truth in the theory which connected coronal forms with fluctuations in solar activity, it might be anticipated that the vast equatorial expansions and polar "brushes" of 1878 would be found replaced by the star-like structure of 1871. This expectation was literally fulfilled. No lateral streamers were to be seen. The universal failure to perceive them, after express search in a sky of the most transparent purity, justifies the emphatic assertion that they were not there. Instead, the type of corona observed in India eleven years earlier, was reproduced with its shining aigrettes, complex texture and brilliant radiated aspect.

Concordant testimony was given by the spectroscope. The reflected light derived from the corona was weaker than in 1878, while its original emissions were proportionately intensified. Nevertheless, most of the bright lines recorded as coronal[541] were really due, there can be no doubt, to diffused chromospheric light. On this occasion, the first successful attempt was made to photograph the coronal spectrum procured in the ordinary way with a slit and prisms, while the prismatic camera was also profitably employed. It served to bring out at least one important fact—that of the uncommon strength in chromospheric regions of the twin violet beams of calcium, designated "H" and "K"; and prominence-photography signalised its improvement by the registration, in the spectrum of one such object, of twenty-nine rays, including many of the ultra-violet hydrogen series discovered by Sir William Huggins in the emission of white stars.[542]

Dr. Schuster's photographs of the corona itself were the most extensive, as well as the most detailed, of any yet secured. One rift imprinted itself on the plates to a distance of nearly a diameter and a half from the limb; and the transparency of the streamers was shown by the delineation through them of the delicate tracery beyond. The singular and picturesque feature was added of a bright comet, self-depicted in all the exquisite grace of swift movement betrayed by the fine curve of its tail, hurrying away from one of its rare visits to our sun, and rendered momentarily visible by the withdrawal of the splendour in which it had been, and was again quickly veiled.

From a careful study of these valuable records Sir William Huggins derived the idea of a possible mode of photographing the corona without an eclipse.[543] As already stated, its ordinary invisibility is entirely due to the "glare" or reflected light diffused through our atmosphere. But Huggins found, on examining Schuster's negatives, that a large proportion of the light in the coronal spectrum, both continuous and interrupted, is collected in the violet region between the Fraunhofer lines G and H. There, then, he hoped that, all other rays being excluded, it might prove strong enough to vanquish inimical glare, and stamp on prepared plates, through local superiority in illuminative power, the forms of the appendage by which it is emitted.

His experiments were begun towards the end of May, 1882, and by September 28 he had obtained a fair earnest of success. The exclusion of all other qualities of light save that with which he desired to operate, was accomplished by using chloride of silver as his sensitive material, that substance being chemically inert to all other but those precise rays in which the corona has the advantage.[544] Plates thus sensitised received impressions which it was hardly possible to regard as spurious. "Not only the general features," Captain Abney affirmed,[545] "are the same, but details, such as rifts and streamers, have the same position and form." It was found, moreover, that the corona photographed during the total eclipse of May 6, 1883, was intermediate in shape between the coronas photographed by Sir William Huggins before and after that event, each picture taking its proper place in a series of progressive modifications highly interesting in themselves, and full of promise for the value of the method employed to record them.[546] But experiments on the subject were singularly interrupted. The volcanic explosion in the Straits of Sunda in August, 1883, brought to astronomers a peculiarly unwelcome addition to their difficulties. The magnificent sunglows due to the diffractive effects on light of the vapours and fine dust flung in vast volumes into the air, and rapidly diffused all round the globe, betokened an atmospheric condition of all others the most prejudicial to delicate researches in the solar vicinity. The filmy coronal forms, accordingly, which had been hopefully traced on the Tulse Hill plates ceased to appear there; nor were any substantially better results obtained by Mr. C. Ray Woods, in the purer air either of the Riffel or the Cape of Good Hope, during the three ensuing years. Moreover, attempts to obtain coronal photographs during the partial phases of the eclipse of August 29, 1886, completely failed. No part of the lunar globe became visible in relief against circumfluous solar radiance on any of the plates exposed at Grenada; and what vestiges of "structure" there were, came out almost better upon the moon than beside her, thus stamping themselves at once as of atmospheric origin.

That the effect sought is a perfectly possible one is proved by the distinct appearance of the moon projected on the corona, in photographs of the partially eclipsed sun in 1858, 1889, and 1890, and very notably in 1898 and 1900.[547]

In the spring of 1893, Professor Hale[548] attacked the problem of coronal daylight photography, employing the "double-slit" method so eminently serviceable for the delineation of prominences.[549] But neither at Kenwood nor at the summit of Pike's Peak, whither, in the course of the summer, he removed his apparatus, was any action of the desired kind secured. Similar ill success attended his and Professor Riccò's employment, on Mount Etna in July, 1894, of a specially designed coronagraph. Yet discouragement did not induce despair. The end in view is indeed too important to be readily abandoned; but it can be reached only when a more particular acquaintance with the nature of coronal light than we now possess indicates the appropriate device for giving it a preferential advantage in self-portraiture. Moreover, the effectiveness of this device may not improbably be enhanced, through changes in the coronal spectrum at epochs of sun-spot maximum.

The prosperous result of the Sohag observations stimulated the desire to repeat them on the first favourable opportunity. This offered itself one year later, May 6, 1883, yet not without the drawbacks incident to terrestrial conditions. The eclipse promised was of rare length, giving no less than five minutes and twenty-three seconds of total obscurity, but its path was almost exclusively a "water-track." It touched land only on the outskirts of the Marquesas group in the Southern Pacific, and presented, as the one available foothold for observers, a coral reef named Caroline Island, seven and a half miles long by one and a half wide, unknown previously to 1874, and visited only for the sake of its stores of guano. Seldom has a more striking proof been given of the vividness of human curiosity as to the condition of the worlds outside our own, than in the assemblage of a group of distinguished men from the chief centres of civilisation, on a barren ridge, isolated in a vast and tempestuous ocean, at a distance, in many cases, of 11,000 miles and upwards from the ordinary scene of their labours. And all these sacrifices—the cost and care of preparation, the transport and readjustment of delicate instruments, the contrivance of new and more subtle means of investigating phenomena—on the precarious chance of a clear sky during one particular five minutes! The event, though fortunate, emphasised the hazard of the venture. The observation of the eclipse was made possible only by the happy accident of a serene interval between two storms.