Taken on November 19, 6 h. 4 m., at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich
]
Anyone acquainted with the clear, limpid blue of the skies at dawn in
New Zealand, and the brilliancy of the stars despite the near approach
of sunrise, may gain some idea of the vivid appearance of the little
comet in their midst as seen on this occasion. The writer, who spent a
year in New Zealand (1913–14), has vivid recollections of the beauty of
the dawn ushering in daylight during the course of her travels to and
fro, and has almost an envious feeling with regard to those fortunate
people “whose duties required them to rise before daylight,” thus
enabling them to obtain the first view of the comet. As in the case of
the brilliant star in the East, which guided the three wise men of old
to Bethlehem, doubtless they likewise “rejoiced and were exceeding
glad.”
The news of the discovery of a comet was soon made known, for on
September 6 Dr. Gould, director of the Cordoba Observatory in South
America,[7] received information that a bright comet was visible in the
east before sunrise. His informant had seen it on the morning of
September 5, when it was described as being as bright as the planet
Venus. At Reus, near Tarragona, it was bright enough to be seen at one
time through a passing cloud when at a distance of only three times the
diameter of the sun from its edge, or “limb,” as it is technically
termed. According to the report of Dr. Gould regarding the weather
conditions prevailing at Cordoba, the morning of September 7 was cloudy
and the eastern sky overcast on every morning during a whole week.
Nevertheless, on one occasion it was thought that a part of the comet’s
tail could be seen. It was not until September 14 that conditions were
again favorable for observing the comet.
Fortunately the link in the chain of observations was supplied by an
enthusiastic amateur astronomer, Mr. John Tebbutt, who watched the comet
from his observatory at Windsor, New South Wales. On September 8, he
received a telegram from the Government Astronomer at Melbourne, to the
effect that a large comet was reported due east at four o’clock in the
morning. Other messages were received during the day from different
parts of the colony, and from the information thus supplied Mr. Tebbutt
was enabled to observe the comet on the mornings of September 9 and 10.
By this time the nucleus of the comet was large and remarkably
brilliant, and the tail about 3° or 4° in length, not quite the distance
separating the pointers in Ursa Major.
[Illustration:
JOHN TEBBUTT, NOTED COMET-HUNTER OF WINDSOR, N. S. W.
]
Mr. Tebbutt had already distinguished himself as a successful
comet-hunter, and in addition had vainly endeavored to form a society
such as existed for comet-hunting in the northern hemisphere, but his
efforts only ended in disappointment. As he wrote in his _Memoirs_,
“although several astronomers owned telescopes suitable for the work,
there was obviously a distaste for systematic observation.” He took
great pride in his miniature observatory at Windsor, actually his own
handiwork, for he was his own bricklayer, carpenter, and slater
combined. During a visit to the observatory in 1912 the writer was shown
numberless books containing the records of fifty-five observations of
the comet of 1882, extending from September 8 of that year to March 2,
1883. These observations were made by Mr. Tebbutt with his four and a
half inch equatorial, with the exception of four made with the transit
instrument in full sunlight. Moreover, Mr. Tebbutt was the first to see
the comet in full daylight with the unaided eye.
The second series of observations of the comet in full daylight were
made at the Government Observatory, Melbourne, but it was not seen in
Europe, owing to cloudy weather, until September 17, one Sunday morning.
It happened that Dr. A. A. Common, the well-known amateur astronomer at
Ealing, had directed his telescope to the sun for the purpose of
observing sun-spots, when he had a glimpse of the comet. This was at a
quarter to eleven, at which time the comet was rapidly approaching the
sun. Unfortunately, clouds intervened, rendering further observations
for the time being impossible.
Dr. Common sent a telegram to Dunecht (Lord Crawford’s observatory near
Aberdeen) so that the astronomers there might be on the lookout for the
comet, with the result that it was observed by them on the following
day. In England bad weather, as usual, had baffled all attempts at
seeing the comet, and the clouds seemed to be in league with the powers
of darkness in keeping it hidden from view. Those who can recall
watching in vain in England, for Halley’s comet at its return in 1910,
can fully sympathize with the disappointed watchers of the sky in 1882.
(In those days the writer was not nearly so enthusiastic as she should
have been at the brief view of the comet obtained early one chilly
morning. Admiration was slightly tinged with wonder at all the
excitement over “a small white star with a train a yard long” which
scarcely seemed worth the trouble of getting up for during the wee sma’
hours. Nevertheless, there is comfort now in the thought, that this—her
first comet—was one long afterward to be remembered.)
Day after day the comet grew in splendor, until by September 12 it was
almost the cause of a momentary panic on the occasion of the attack at
Tel-el-Kebir. The story is told by Colonel E. Major, somewhat as
follows, in his book entitled _Lord Wolseley_: It seems that each
morning Sir Garnet in the early dawn had reconnoitered the enemy’s
position from the high ground above their lines, and he had noticed that
their pickets only came out beyond the defenses at daybreak. He
therefore decided upon a night attack, which must be sudden and
decisive, so that the enemy might be crushed and scattered early in the
day. This would enable the cavalry to make an immediate dash for Cairo,
while the infantry occupied Zagazig. After making all arrangements, we
are told:
“The troops set off in silence, no smoking or giving of orders aloud
being permitted. The engineers had set up directing posts as guides
in the earlier part of the march, but in the deep darkness of a
moonless night these were not easy to find. Only the North Star and
the Little Bear, shining through the drifting clouds, gave the
leaders some fixed point by which to find the way. Sir Garnet sent
his own naval aide-de-camp, Lieutenant Rawson, R. N., who was
accustomed to steer by the stars, to act as a guide with Sir Edward
Hamley’s division. Even with this help the flanks of the Highland
Brigade in the course of the night march lost their direction after
a short halt, and circled round until a crescent-like formation was
the result.
“A second halt was necessary to remedy the confusion. Soon after, a
strange light appeared upon the horizon, and Sir Garnet feared it
was the first sign of the coming dawn. If so, the night attack had
failed. But no rising sun followed that long streak of light, and
later on they learned that a comet had been observed in the heavens
for the first time on that eve of Tel-el-Kebir.”
On September 27, the comet was seen at Vienna, according to a telegram
received by the Astronomer Royal at Greenwich, but meanwhile it had been
observed continuously at the Cape of Good Hope Observatory since
September 8. It was seen on this date by Mr. Finlay, a member of the
observatory staff, while he was going homeward after working all night
at the dome. Happening to glance eastward, his attention was at once
attracted by the comet. Returning hastily to the observatory, he
proceeded to make the necessary measurements for recording its position
with regard to a small star in its neighborhood. One can imagine the
anxiety with which its reappearance was awaited next morning by Sir
David Gill, the director of the observatory, and by those who may have
heard the good news of a comet in the offing.
The following morning the comet was again observed, and Sir David Gill
sent a telegram to Sir James Anderson, chairman of the Eastern Telegraph
Company:
Kindly tell Astronomer Royal, Greenwich, that bright comet was
observed here yesterday morning by Finlay. Right ascension this
morning, nine hours, forty minutes, increasing hourly, nine minutes.
Declination one degree south, increasing half degree south daily.
Unfortunately, the telegram failed to reach its destination, and was
doubtless delayed or mislaid in the confusion of numberless war
messages. The first news that reached Europe about the comet was
obtained by means of a telegram on September 12, from Dr. Cruls,
director of the observatory of the Emperor of Brazil. Sir David Gill was
anxious to prove Mr. Finlay’s claim to priority in discovering the
comet, but, as we have already seen, he had been forestalled by
astronomers in Australia, and some claim should be allowed for the
“early railroad workers” in Auckland, New Zealand, who were actually the
first to see the comet, though their observation thereof had no
practical value. For a while the comet was known as the Cruls comet, but
now it is generally referred to as the great comet of 1882, or the
Daylight comet. However, later on, as we have already noted, it had a
rival as a Daylight comet in 1910, when a fine comet resembling the
plume-like appearance of the comet of Donati was seen to advantage in
England.
The great comet had another rival in popularity in the year 1882, for on
May 17, when Dr. Schuster was developing photographic plates taken
during a total eclipse of the sun which occurred on that date, he found
a miniature comet seemingly entangled in the outer rays of the corona.
This is the sun’s crown of glory which can be seen only during the time
the glare of sunlight is hidden from view by the moon coming directly
between the sun and the earth. The consequent darkness, or totality, as
it is called, can never exceed a duration of eight minutes, and on this
occasion during a still briefer interval of time the little comet was
captured by means of the camera. Thus, a permanent record was secured of
its presence near the sun, but as it had not been seen before nor was it
seen afterward, its motion must have been extremely rapid, and it may
possibly have been drawn inward and consumed by the intense solar heat.
Despite its small size and brief career, it is distinguished by the name
of Tewfik, after the then Khedive of Egypt. It has been suggested that
the comet may be kin to, or one and the same with, a comet which had its
photograph taken during the total eclipse of the sun, April 16, 1893,
having a period like that of the sun-spots, of about eleven years.
Possibly Sir David Gill may have had the photograph of Comet Tewfik in
mind when he heard of attempts which had been made by Mr. Shoyer of Cape
Town, and Mr. Simpson of Aberdeen, to photograph the comet of 1882. The
results had been so far successful as to prove that the comet was
capable of giving a distinct impression after sufficiently long
exposure. But it was owing to the cordial and enthusiastic assistance of
Mr. Allis, photographer of Mowbray, that the first pictures of the comet
were obtained. When Mr. Allis, under the direction of Sir David Gill,
fastened a simple portrait camera upon the tube of one of the Cape
telescopes, and pointed it at the great comet, little did he dream that
the experiment would eventually lead to such great results in the
future. One can imagine the thrill of triumph as the experimenter
watched the gradual process of development on the photographic plate,
until, as if by magic, a fine comet was revealed outlined against a
starry background. Thus, three or four photographs were obtained, which
excited the greatest interest among astronomers in the northern
hemisphere. Possibilities were suggested with regard to the construction
of a self-recording photographic star chart, thus replacing the
painstaking hand-drawn star charts of the Herschels, Argelander, my
father, and other astronomers at various times engaged in such work.
The gigantic undertaking was ultimately divided among nineteen
observatories situated in northern and southern climes, which will
eventually result in a marvelous collection of star charts. These will
include millions of stars, forming a celestial library which may be
consulted at leisure either now or a century hence when the makers
thereof may have become a mere memory. If a supplementary set is made in
the future, comparisons between the two series may result in important
information with regard to star drift. (It was by comparing star charts
thus made a century apart, that my father originated the star-drift
theory, by his observations in connection with the five stars of Ursa
Major in 1868, a theory confirmed by the spectroscopic investigations of
Dr. Huggins.) Celestial photography, owing to Dr. Gill’s suggestion with
regard to the star-gemmed photographs of the comet of 1882, may add
greatly to our knowledge in connection with such problems, the records
of the past thus becoming the star-lettered volumes for the students of
the future. Undoubtedly this achievement, the result of the photographs
taken of the great comet of 1882, ranks high among those which make
astronomy appeal so vividly to the imagination.
Now let us see how Mr. Allis went to work in obtaining the portrait of
this memorable comet. To secure a perfect picture of its delicate
detail, an exposure of not less than half an hour was required. To
obviate the difficulty caused by the rotation of the earth, Mr. Allis
attached his camera with a rapid portrait lens and sensitive dry plate
to the declination axis of a large equatorial, and then turned both the
telescope of the equatorial and the camera in the direction of the
comet. Matters were so arranged that in whatever direction the telescope
was turned, the small camera would turn exactly with it, and thus by
means of clockwork and proper small motions for delicate adjustment, the
comet was kept accurately in the field of view during the whole time of
exposure. The camera was therefore also pointed during the whole
exposure to precisely the same point of the comet, and in this way,
after one preliminary failure, three very beautiful and quite invaluable
negatives of the comet were obtained. These three negatives will remain
of permanent value as a scientific record of one of the most glorious
comets ever seen.
To follow the progress of the comet as it increased in splendor day by
day, let us return to the record of Dr. Gould, director of the Cordoba
Observatory. On September 16, we are told that the brightness of the
comet was such that it was visible with the finding telescope throughout
the day. The next day it was so bright that it could be easily observed
in full sunlight, and at eleven o’clock that morning the sun and the
comet were in the same field of view. Then the comet was hidden for a
while, as it passed between us and the disk of the sun.
[Illustration: