The Story of Eclipses

by George F. Chambers

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.