The Reminiscences of an Astronomer

by Simon Newcomb

With high respect,
Your obedient servant,
Simon Newcomb,
Assistant, Nautical Almanac.

Hon. Gideon Welles,
Secretary of the Navy,
Washington, D. C.

I also wrote to Captain Davis, who was then on duty in the Navy Department, telling him what I had done, but made no further effort. Great was my surprise when, a month later, I found in the post-office, without the slightest premonition, a very large official envelope, containing my commission duly signed by Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States. The confidence in the valor, abilities, etc., of the appointee, expressed in the commission, was very assuring. Accompanying it was a letter from the Secretary of the Navy directing me to report to the Bureau of Ordnance and Hydrography, in Washington, for such duty as it might assign me. I arrived on October 6, and immediately called on Professor J. S. Hubbard, who was the leading astronomer of the observatory. On the day following I reported as directed, and was sent to Captain Gilliss, the recently appointed Superintendent of the Naval Observatory, before whom I stood with much trepidation. In reply to his questions I had to confess my entire inexperience in observatory work or the making of astronomical observations. A coast survey observer had once let me look through his transit instrument and try to observe the passage of a star. On the eclipse expedition mentioned in the last chapter I had used a sextant. This was about all the experience in practical astronomy which I could claim. In fact I had never been inside of an observatory, except on two or three occasions at Cambridge as a visitor. The captain reassured me by saying that no great experience was expected of a newcomer, and told me that I should go to work on the transit instrument under Professor Yarnall, to whose care I was then confided.

As the existence of a corps of professors of mathematics is peculiar to our navy, as well as an apparent, perhaps a real, anomaly, some account of it may be of interest. Early in the century—one hardly knows when the practice began—the Secretary of the Navy, in virtue of his general powers, used to appoint men as professors of mathematics in the navy, to go to sea and teach the midshipmen the art of navigation. In 1844, when work at the observatory was about to begin, no provision for astronomers was made by Congress. The most convenient way of supplying this want was to have the Secretary appoint professors of mathematics, and send them to the observatory on duty.

A few years later the Naval Academy was founded at Annapolis, and a similar course was pursued to provide it with a corps of instructors. Up to this time the professors had no form of appointment except a warrant from the Secretary of the Navy. Early in the history of the academy the midshipmen burned a professor in effigy. They were brought before a court-martial on the charge of disrespect to a superior officer, but pleaded that the professor, not holding a commission, was not their superior officer, and on this plea were acquitted. Congress thereupon took the matter up, provided that the number of professors should not exceed twelve, and that they should be commissioned by the President by and with the advice and consent of the Senate. This raised their rank to that of a commissioned corps in the navy. They were to perform such duty as the Secretary of the Navy might direct, and were, for the most part, divided between the Naval Academy and the Observatory.

During the civil war some complaint was made that the midshipmen coming from the academy were not well trained in the duties of a seagoing officer; and it was supposed that this was due to too much of their time being given to scientific studies. This was attributed to the professors, with the result that nearly all those attached to the academy were detached during the four years following the close of the civil war and ordered elsewhere, mostly to the observatory. Their places were taken by line officers who, in the intervals between their turns of sea duty, were made heads of departments and teachers of the midshipmen in nearly every branch.

This state of things led to the enactment of a law (in 1869, I think), "that hereafter no vacancy in the grade of professors of mathematics in the navy shall be filled."

In 1873 this provision was annulled by a law, again providing for a corps of twelve professors, three of whom should have the relative rank of captain, four of commander, and the remainder of lieutenant-commander or lieutenant.

Up to 1878 the Secretary of the Navy was placed under no restrictions as to his choice of a professor. He could appoint any citizen whom he supposed to possess the necessary qualifications. Then it was enacted that, before appointment, a candidate should pass a medical and a professional examination.

I have said that the main cause of hesitation in making my application arose from my aversion to very late night work. It soon became evident that there was less ground than I had supposed for apprehension on this point. There was a free and easy way of carrying on work which was surprising to one who had supposed it all arranged on strict plans, and done according to rule and discipline. Professor Yarnall, whose assistant I was, was an extremely pleasant gentleman to be associated with. Although one of the most industrious workers at the observatory, there was nothing of the martinet about him. He showed me how to handle the instrument and record my observations. There was a Nautical Almanac and a Catalogue of Stars. Out of these each of us could select what he thought best to observe.