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

by Agnes M. Clerke

Baily (to whose narrative we again have recourse) had set up his Dollond's achromatic in an upper room of the University of Pavia, and was eagerly engaged in noting a partial repetition of the singular appearances seen by him in 1836, when he was "astounded by a tremendous burst of applause from the streets below, and at the same moment was electrified at the sight of one of the most brilliant and splendid phenomena that can well be imagined. For at that instant the dark body of the moon was suddenly surrounded with a corona, or kind of bright glory similar in shape and relative magnitude to that which painters draw round the heads of saints, and which by the French is designated an auréole. Pavia contains many thousand inhabitants, the major part of whom were, at this early hour, walking about the streets and squares or looking out of windows, in order to witness this long-talked-of phenomenon; and when the total obscuration took place, which was instantaneous, there was a universal shout from every observer, which 'made the welkin ring,' and, for the moment, withdrew my attention from the object with which I was immediately occupied. I had indeed anticipated the appearance of a luminous circle round the moon during the time of total obscurity; but I did not expect, from any of the accounts of preceding eclipses that I had read, to witness so magnificent an exhibition as that which took place.... The breadth of the corona, measured from the circumference of the moon, appeared to me to be nearly equal to half the moon's diameter. It had the appearance of brilliant rays. The light was most dense close to the border of the moon, and became gradually and uniformly more attenuate as its distance therefrom increased, assuming the form of diverging rays in a rectilinear line, which at the extremity were more divided, and of an unequal length; so that in no part of the corona could I discover the regular and well-defined shape of a ring at its outer margin. It appeared to me to have the sun for its centre, but I had no means of taking any accurate measures for determining this point. Its colour was quite white, not pearl-colour, nor yellow, nor red, and the rays had a vivid and flickering appearance, somewhat like that which a gaslight illumination might be supposed to assume if formed into a similar shape.... Splendid and astonishing, however, as this remarkable phenomenon really was, and although it could not fail to call forth the admiration and applause of every beholder, yet I must confess that there was at the same time something in its singular and wonderful appearance that was appalling; and I can readily imagine that uncivilised nations may occasionally have become alarmed and terrified at such an object, more especially at times when the true cause of the occurrence may have been but faintly understood, and the phenomenon itself wholly unexpected.

"But the most remarkable circumstance attending the phenomenon was the appearance of three large protuberances apparently emanating from the circumference of the moon, but evidently forming a portion of the corona. They had the appearance of mountains of a prodigious elevation; their colour was red, tinged with lilac or purple; perhaps the colour of the peach-blossom would more nearly represent it. They somewhat resembled the snowy tops of the Alpine mountains when coloured by the rising or setting sun. They resembled the Alpine mountains also in another respect, inasmuch as their light was perfectly steady, and had none of that flickering or sparkling motion so visible in other parts of the corona. All the three projections were of the same roseate cast of colour, and very different from the brilliant vivid white light that formed the corona; but they differed from each other in magnitude.... The whole of these three protuberances were visible even to the last moment of total obscuration; at least, I never lost sight of them when looking in that direction; and when the first ray of light was admitted from the sun, they vanished, with the corona, altogether, and daylight was instantaneously restored."[154]

Notwithstanding unfavourable weather, the "red flames" were perceived with little less clearness and no less amazement from the Superga than at Pavia, and were even discerned by Mr. Airy with the naked eye. "Their form" (the Astronomer Royal wrote) "was nearly that of saw-teeth in the position proper for a circular saw turned round in the same direction in which the hands of a watch turn.... Their colour was a full lake-red, and their brilliancy greater than that of any other part of the ring."[155]

The height of these extraordinary objects was estimated by Arago at two minutes of arc, representing, at the sun's distance, an actual elevation of 54,000 miles. When carefully watched, the rose-flush of their illumination was perceived to fade through violet to white as the light returned, the same changes in a reversed order having accompanied their first appearance. Their forms, however, during about three minutes of visibility, showed no change, although of so apparently unstable a character as to suggest to Arago "mountains on the point of crumbling into ruins" through topheaviness.[156]

The corona, both as to figure and extent, presented very different appearances at different stations. This was no doubt due to varieties in atmospheric conditions. At the Superga, for instance, all details of structure seem to have been effaced by the murky air, only a comparatively feeble ring of light being seen to encircle the moon. Elsewhere, a brilliant radiated formation was conspicuous, spreading at four opposite points into four vast luminous expansions, compared to feather-plumes or aigrettes.[157] Arago at Perpignan noticed considerable irregularities in the divergent rays. Some appeared curved and twisted, a few lay across the others, in a direction almost tangential to the moon's limb, the general effect being described as that of a "hank of thread in disorder."[158] At Lipeszk, where the sun stood much higher above the horizon than in Italy or France, the corona showed with surprising splendour. Its apparent extent was judged by Struve to be no less than twenty-five minutes (more than six times Airy's estimate), while the great plumes spread their radiance to three or four degrees from the dark lunar edge. So dazzling was the light that many well-instructed persons denied the totality of the eclipse. Nor was the error without precedent, although the appearances attending respectively a total and an annular eclipse are in reality wholly dissimilar. In the latter case, the surviving ring of sunlight becomes so much enlarged by irradiation, that the interposed dark lunar body is reduced to comparative insignificance, or even invisibility. Maclaurin tells us[159] that during an eclipse of this character which he observed at Edinburgh in 1737, "gentlemen by no means shortsighted declared themselves unable to discern the moon upon the sun without the aid of a smoked glass;" and Baily (who, however, was shortsighted) could distinguish, in 1836, with the naked eye, no trace of "the globe of purple velvet" which the telescope revealed as projected upon the face of the sun.[160] Moreover, the diminution of light is described by him as "little more than might be caused by a temporary cloud passing over the sun"; the birds continued in full song, and "one cock in particular was crowing with all his might while the annulus was forming."

Very different were the effects of the eclipse of 1842, as to which some interesting particulars were collected by Arago.[161] Beasts of burthen, he tells us, paused in their labour, and could by no amount of punishment be induced to move until the sun reappeared. Birds and beasts abandoned their food; linnets were found dead in their cages; even ants suspended their toil. Diligence-horses, on the other hand, seemed as insensible to the phenomenon as locomotives. The convolvulus and some other plants closed their leaves, but those of the mimosa remained open. The little light that remained was of a livid hue. One observer described the general coloration as resembling the lees of wine, but human faces showed pale olive or greenish. We may, then, rest assured that none of the remarkable obscurations recorded in history were due to eclipses of the annular kind.

The existence of the corona is no modern discovery. Indeed, it is too conspicuous an apparition to escape notice from the least attentive or least practised observer of a total eclipse. Nevertheless, explicit references to it are rare in early times. Plutarch, however, speaks of a "certain splendour" compassing round the hidden edge of the sun, as a regular feature of total eclipses;[162] and the corona is expressly mentioned in a description of an eclipse visible at Corfu in 968 A.D.[163] The first to take the phenomenon into scientific consideration was Kepler. He showed, from the orbital positions at the time of the sun and moon, that an eclipse observed by Clavius at Rome in 1567 could not have been annular,[164] as the dazzling coronal radiance visible during the obscuration had caused it to be believed. Although he himself never witnessed a total eclipse of the sun, he carefully collected and compared the remarks of those more fortunate, and concluded that the ring of "flame-like splendour" seen on such occasions was caused by the reflection of the solar rays from matter condensed in the neighbourhood either of the sun or moon.[165] To the solar explanation he gave his own decided preference; but, with one of those curious flashes of half-prophetic insight characteristic of his genius, declared that "it should be laid by ready for use, not brought into immediate requisition."[166] So literally was his advice acted upon, that the theory, which we now know to be (broadly speaking) the correct one, only emerged from the repository of anticipated truths after 236 years of almost complete retirement, and even then timorously and with hesitation.

The first eclipse of which the attendant phenomena were observed with tolerable exactness was that which was central in the South of France, May 12, 1706. Cassini then put forward the view that the "crown of pale light" seen round the lunar disc was caused by the illumination of the zodiacal light;[167] but it failed to receive the attention which, as a step in the right direction, it undoubtedly merited. Nine years later we meet with Halley's comments on a similar event, the first which had occurred in London since March 20, 1140. By nine in the morning of May 3, 1715, the obscuration, he tells us, "was about ten digits,[168] when the face and colour of the sky began to change from perfect serene azure blue to a more dusky livid colour, having an eye of purple intermixt.... A few seconds before the sun was all hid, there discovered itself round the moon a luminous ring, about a digit or perhaps a tenth part of the moon's diameter in breadth. It was of a pale whiteness, or rather pearl colour, seeming to be a little tinged with the colours of the iris, and to be concentric with the moon, whence I concluded it the moon's atmosphere. But the great height thereof, far exceeding our earth's atmosphere, and the observation of some, who found the breadth of the ring to increase on the west side of the moon as emersion approached, together with the contrary sentiments of those whose judgment I shall always revere" (Newton is most probably referred to), "makes me less confident, especially in a matter whereto I confess I gave not all the attention requisite." He concludes by declining to decide whether the "enlightened atmosphere," which the appearance "in all respects resembled," "belonged to sun or moon."[169]

A French Academician, who happened to be in London at the time, was less guarded in expressing an opinion. The Chevalier de Louville declared emphatically for the lunar atmospheric theory of the corona,[170] and his authority carried great weight. It was, however, much discredited by an observation made by Maraldi in 1724, to the effect that the luminous ring, instead of travelling with the moon, was traversed by it.[171] This was in reality decisive, though, as usual, belief lagged far behind demonstration. In 1715 a novel explanation had been offered by Delisle and Lahire,[172] supported by experiments regarded at the time as perfectly satisfactory. The aureola round the eclipsed sun, they argued, is simply a result of the diffraction, or apparent bending of the sunbeams that graze the surface of the lunar globe—an effect of the same kind as the coloured fringes of shadows. And this view prevailed amongst men of science until (and even after) Brewster showed, with clear and simple decisiveness, that such an effect could by no possibility be appreciable at our distance from the moon.[173] Don José Joaquim de Ferrer, however, who observed a total eclipse of the sun at Kinderhook, in the State of New York, on June 16, 1806, ignoring this refined optical rationale, considered two alternative explanations of the phenomenon as alone possible. The bright ring round the moon must be due to the illumination either of a lunar or of a solar atmosphere. If the former, he calculated that it should have a height fifty times that of the earth's gaseous envelope. "Such an atmosphere," he rightly concluded, "cannot belong to the moon, but must without any doubt belong to the sun."[174] But he stood alone in this unhesitating assertion.

The importance of the problem was first brought fully home to astronomers by the eclipse of 1842. The brilliant and complex appearance which on that occasion challenged the attention of so many observers, demanded and received, no longer the casual attention hitherto bestowed upon it, but the most earnest study of those interested in the progress of science. Nevertheless, it was only by degrees, and through a process of "exclusions" (to use a Baconian phrase) that the corona was put in its right place as a solar appendage. As every other available explanation proved inadmissible and dropped out of sight, the broad presentation of fact remained, which, though of sufficiently obvious interpretation, was long and persistently misconstrued. Nor was it until 1869 that absolutely decisive evidence on the subject was forthcoming, as we shall see further on.