CHAPTER V

THE OBSERVATORY BUILDINGS

Like a living organism, Greenwich Observatory bears the record of

its life-history in its structure. It was not one of those favoured

institutions that have sprung complete and fully equipped from the

liberality of some great king or private millionaire. As we have

seen, it was originally established on the most modest--not to say

meagre--scale, and has been enlarged just as it has been absolutely

necessary. To quote again from Professor Newcomb--

'Whenever any part of it was found insufficient for its purpose,

new rooms were built for the special object in view, and thus

it has been growing from the beginning by a process as natural

and simple as that of the growth of a tree. Even now the very

value of its structure is less than that of several other public

observatories, though it eclipses them all in the results of its

work.'

Entering the courtyard--an enclosure some eighty feet deep by

ninety feet in extreme breadth--by the great gate, we see before

us Flamsteed House, the original building of the Observatory.

Flamsteed's little domain was only some twenty-seven yards wide

by fifty deep, and for buildings comprised little beyond a small

dwelling-house on the ground floor, and one fine room above it. This

room--the original Greenwich Observatory--still remains, and is

used as a council room by the official Board of Visitors, who come

down to the Observatory on the first Saturday in June, to examine

into its condition and to receive the Astronomer Royal's report. The

room is called, from its shape, the Octagon Room, and is well known

to Londoners from the great north window which looks out straight

over the river between the twin domes of the Hospital.

In Bradley's time, about 1749, the first extension of the domains

of the Observatory took place to the south and east of the original

building, the direction in which, on the whole, all subsequent

extensions have taken place, owing to the fact that the original

building was constructed at the extremity of what Sir George Airy

was accustomed to call a 'peninsula'--a projecting spur of the

Blackheath plateau, from which the ground falls away very sharply on

three sides and on part of the fourth.

The Observatory domain at present is fully two hundred yards in

greatest length, with an average breadth of about sixty. Nearly the

whole of this accession took place under the directorates of Pond

and Airy. The present instruments are, therefore, as a rule, the

more modern in direct proportion to their distance from the Octagon

Room--the old original Observatory. There is one notable exception.

The very first extension of the Observatory buildings, made in

the time of Halley, the second Astronomer Royal, consisted in the

setting up of a strong pier, to carry two quadrant telescopes. The

pier still remains, but now forms the base of the support of the

twin telescopes devoted to the photographic survey of the heavens

for the International Chart.

Standing just within the gate of the courtyard, and looking

westward, that is toward Flamsteed House, we have immediately on

our right hand the porter's lodge; a little farther forward, also

on the right, the Transit Pavilion, a small building sheltering

a portable transit instrument; and farther forward, still on the

right, the entrance to the Chronograph Room. Above the Chronograph

Room is a little, inconveniently-placed dome, containing a small

equatorially-mounted telescope, known as the Shuckburgh. Beyond the

Chronograph Room a door opens on to the North Terrace, over which

is seen the great north window of the Octagon Room. Close by the

door of the Chronograph Room a great wooden staircase rises to the

roof of the main building. It is not an attractive-looking ascent,

as the steps overlap inconveniently. Still, there is no record of

an accident upon them, and those who venture on the climb to the

roof, where are placed the anemometers and the turret carrying the

time-ball, which is dropped daily at 1 p.m., will be well repaid by

the splendid view of the river which is there afforded to them.

Passing under this staircase, on the wall by its side is seen the

following inscription:--

CAROLUS II^S REX OPTIMUS

ASTRONOMIÆ ET NAUTICÆ ARTIS

PATRONUS MAXIMUS

SPECULAM HANC IN UTRIUSQUE COMMODUM

FECIT

ANNO D^{NI} MDCLXXVI. REGNI SUI XXVIII.

Curante Iona Moore milite

R. T. S. G.

[Illustration: THE ASTRONOMER ROYAL'S HOUSE.

(_From a photograph by Mr. Lacey._)]

In the extreme angle of the courtyard is the entrance to the mean

solar clock cupboard, and to the staircase leading up to the Octagon

Room. At the head of this staircase in a small closet is the winch

for winding up the time-ball.

Coming back into the courtyard, and crossing the face of the

Astronomer Royal's private house, the range of buildings is reached

which form the left hand or south side of the enclosure. Entering

the first of these, we find ourselves in the Lower Computing Room,

which is devoted to the 'Time Department.' The next room which opens

out of it, as we turn eastwards, was Bradley's Transit Room, but is

now used for the storage of chronometers. Passing through Bradley's

Transit Room, we come to the present Transit Room, which brings

us close to the great gate. The range of buildings is, however,

continued somewhat farther, containing on the ground floor some

small sitting-rooms and a fire-proof room for records.

[Illustration: THE COURTYARD.

(_From a photograph by Mr. Lacey._)]

Turning back to the Lower Computing Room, we notice in it the stone

pier, already alluded to, which was set up by Halley, and formed

the first addition to the original Observatory of Flamsteed. The

Lower Computing Room itself and Bradley's Transit Room were due

to the Astronomer after which the latter is named. An iron spiral

staircase in the middle of the Lower Computing Room leads up to the

Upper Computing Room, and above that to the Astrographic dome, so

called because the twin telescope housed therein is devoted to the

work of the Astrographic Chart--a chart of the entire sky to be made

by eighteen co-operating observatories by means of photography. In

this way it is intended to secure a record of the places of far

more stars than could be done by the ordinary methods, and in this

project Greenwich has necessarily taken a premier place. This is

a work which, whilst it is the legitimate and natural outcome of

the original purpose of the Observatory, is yet pushed beyond what

is necessary for any mere utilitarian assistance to navigation. For

the sailor it will always be sufficient to know the places of a

mere handful of the brightest stars, and the vast majority of those

in the great photographic map will never be visible in the little

portable telescope of the sailor's sextant. But it will be freely

admitted that in the case of an enterprise of this nature, in which

the observatories of so many different nations were uniting, and

which was so precisely on the lines of its original charter, though

an extension of it, it was impossible for Greenwich to hold back on

the plea that the work was not entirely utilitarian.

Descending again to the Lower Computing Room, and passing through

it, not to the east, into Bradley's Transit Room, but through a

little lobby to the south, we come upon an inconvenient wooden

staircase winding round a great stone pillar with three rays. This

pillar is the support of Airy's altazimuth, and very nearly marks

the place where Flamsteed set up his original sextant.

Returning again to the Lower Computing Room, and passing out to the

east, just in front of the Time Superintendent's desk, we enter a

small passage running along the back of Bradley's Transit Room, and

from this passage enter the present Transit Room near its south end.

Just before reaching the Transit Room, however, we pass the Reflex

Zenith Tube, a telescope of a very special kind.

Immediately outside the Transit Room is a staircase leading on the

first floor to two rooms long used as libraries, and to the leads

above them, on which is a small dome containing the Sheepshanks

equatorial. These libraries are over the small sitting-rooms already

referred to. The fire-proof Record Rooms, two stories in height,

terminate this range of buildings.

Beyond the Record Rooms the boundary turns sharply south, where

stands a large octagonal building surmounted by a dome of oriental

appearance, a 'circular versatile roof,' as the Visitors would have

called it a hundred years ago. This dome--which has been likened,

according to the school of æsthetics in which its critics have been

severally trained, to the Taj at Agra, a collapsed balloon, or a

mammoth Spanish onion--houses the largest refractor in England, the

'South-east Equatorial' of twenty-eight inches aperture. But, though

the largest that England possesses, it would appear but as a pigmy

beside some of the great telescopes for which America is famous.

Beyond this dome the hollow devoted to the Astronomer Royal's

private garden reduces the Observatory ground to a mere 'wasp's

waist,' a narrow, inconvenient passage from the old and north

observatory to the younger southern one.

The first building, as the grounds begin to widen out to the south,

contains the New Altazimuth, a transit instrument which can be

turned into any meridian. A library of white brick and a low wooden

cruciform building--the Magnetic Observatory--follow it closely.

This latter building houses the Magnetic Department, a department

which, though it lies aside from the original purposes of the

Observatory, as defined in the warrant given to Flamsteed, is yet

intimately connected with navigation, and was founded by Airy very

early in his period of office. This deals with the observation of

the changes in the force and direction of the earth's magnetism, an

inquiry which the greater delicacy of modern compasses, and, in more

recent times, the use of iron instead of wood in the construction of

ships, has rendered imperative.

Closely associated with the Magnetic Department is the

Meteorological. Weather forecasts, so necessary for the safety

of shipping round our coasts, are not issued from Greenwich

Observatory, any more than the _Nautical Almanac_ is now issued from

it. But just as the Observatory furnishes the astronomical data upon

which the almanac is based, so also a considerable department is set

apart for furnishing observations to be used by the Meteorological

Office at Westminster for their daily predictions.

So far, the development of the Observatory had been along the

central line of assistance to navigation. But the 'Magnetic

Department' led on to a new one, which had but a secondary

connection with it. It had been discovered that the extent of

the daily range of the magnetic needle, and the amount of the

disturbances to which it was subjected, were in close connection

with the numbers and size of the spots on the sun's surface. This

led to the institution of a daily photographic record of the state

of the sun's surface, a record of which Greenwich has now the

complete monopoly.

[Illustration: PLAN OF OBSERVATORY AT PRESENT TIME.

(For key to plan, see p. 135.)]

KEY TO THE PLAN OF THE OBSERVATORY ON PAGE 134.

1. Chronograph Room.

2. Old Altazimuth Dome.

3. Safe Room.

4. Computing Room.

5. Bradley's Transit Room.

6. Transit Circle Room.

7. Assistants' Room.

8. Chief Assistant's Room.

9. Computers' Room.

10. Record Rooms.

11. Chronometer Rooms and South-east Dome.

12. Greenhouse and Outbuildings.

14. New Library.

15. Magnetic Observatory.

16. Offices.

19. Sheds.

23. Winch Room for Time-ball.

24. Porter's Lodge.

25. New Transit Pavilion.

26. New Altazimuth Pavilion.

27. Museum: New Building.

28. South Wing "

29. North Wing "

30. West Wing "

31. East Wing "

F. Rooms built for Flamsteed.

H. Added by Halley.

B. " Bradley.

M. " Maskelyne.

A. " Airy.

F'F'. Flamsteed's boundaries.

M'M'. Maskelyne's " 1790.

P'P'. Pond's " 1814.

A'A'. Airy's " 1837.

A"A". Airy's " 1868.

Beyond the Magnetic Observatory the ground widens out into an area

about equal to that of the northern part, and the new building

just completed, and which is now emphatically 'The Observatory,'

stands clear before us. The transfer to this stately building of the

computing rooms, libraries, and store rooms has been aptly described

as a shift in the latitude of Greenwich Observatory, which still

preserves its longitude. It may be noted that the only two buildings

of any architectural pretensions in the whole range are--Flamsteed's

original observatory, built by Sir Christopher Wren, and containing

little beyond the octagon room, in the extreme north; and this

newest building in the extreme south.

This 'New Observatory,' like the old, and like the great

South-eastern tower, is an octagon in its central portion. But

whilst the two other great buildings are simply octagonal, here the

octagon serves only as the centre from which radiate four great

wings to the four points of the compass. The building is by far the

largest on the ground, but in little accord with the popular idea of

an astronomer as perpetually looking through a telescope, carries

but a single dome; its best rooms being set apart as 'computing

rooms,' for the use of those members of the staff who are employed

in the calculations and other clerical work, which form, after all,

much the greater portion of the Observatory routine.

An observer with the transit instrument, for instance, will take

only three or four minutes to make a complete determination of the

place of a single star. But that observation will furnish work to

the computers for many hours afterwards. Or, to take a photograph of

the sun will occupy about five minutes in setting the instrument,

whilst the actual exposure will take but the one-thousandth part of

a second. But the plate, once exposed, will have to be developed,

fixed, and washed; then measured, and the measures reduced, and, _on

the average_, will provide one person with work for four days before

the final results have been printed and published.

It is easy to see, then, that observing, though the first duty of

the Observatory, makes the smallest demand on its time. The visitor

who comes to the Observatory by day (and none are permitted to do

so by night) finds the official rooms not unlike those of Somerset

House or Whitehall, and its occupants for the most part similarly

engaged in what is, apparently, merely clerical work. An examination

of the big folios would of course show that instead of being ledgers

of sales of stamps, or income-tax schedules, they referred to stars,

planets, and sun-spots; but for one person actively engaged at a

telescope, the visitor would see a dozen writing or computing at a

desk.

The staff, like the building, is the result of a gradual

development, and bears traces of its life history in its

composition. First comes the Astronomer Royal, the representative

and successor of the original 'King's Astronomer,' the Rev. John

Flamsteed. But the 'single surly and clumsy labourer,' which was

all that the 'Merry Monarch' could grant for his assistance, is now

represented by a large and complex body of workers; each varied

class and rank of which is a relic of some stage in the progress of

the Observatory to its present condition.

The following extract from the Annual Report of the Astronomer

Royal to the Board of Visitors, June, 1900, describes the present

_personnel_ of the establishment:--

'The staff at the present time is thus constituted, the names in

each class being arranged in alphabetical order:--

'Chief assistants--Mr. Cowell, Mr. Dyson.

'Assistants--Mr. Hollis, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Maunder, Mr. Nash, Mr.

Thackeray.

'Second-class assistants--Mr. Bryant, Mr. Crommelin.

'Clerical assistant--Mr. Outhwaite.

'Established computers--Mr. Bowyer, Mr. Davidson, Mr. Edney, Mr.

Furner, Mr. Rendell, and one vacancy.

'The two second-class assistants will be replaced by higher

grade established computers as vacancies occur.

'Mr. Dyson and Mr. Cowell have the general superintendence of

all the work of the Observatory. Mr. Maunder is charged with

the heliographic photography and reductions, and with the

preparation of the Library Catalogue. Mr. Lewis has charge

of the time-signals and chronometers, and of the 28-inch

equatorial. Mr. Thackeray superintends the miscellaneous

astronomical computations, including the preparation of

the new Ten-Year Catalogue. Mr. Hollis has charge of the

photographic mapping of the heavens, the measurement of the

plates, and the computations for the Astrographic Catalogue. Mr.

Crommelin undertakes the altazimuth and Sheepshanks equatorial

reductions, and Mr. Bryant the transit and meridian zenith

distance reductions and time-determinations. In the magnetic and

meteorological branch, Mr. Nash has charge of the whole of the

work. Mr. Outhwaite acts as responsible accountant officer; has

charge of the library, records, manuscripts, and stores, and

conducts the official correspondence. As regards the established

computers, Mr. Bowyer, Mr. Furner, Mr. Davidson, and Mr. Rendell

assist Mr. Lewis, Mr. Thackeray, Mr. Hollis, and Mr. Bryant

respectively, and Mr. Edney assists Mr. Nash.

'There are at the present time twenty-four supernumerary

computers employed at the Observatory, ten being attached to

the astronomical branch, two the chronometer branch, six to the

astrographic, one to the heliographic, four to the magnetic and

meteorological, and one to the clerical.

'A foreman of works, with two carpenters, and two labourers;

a skilled mechanic with an assistant; a gate porter, two

messengers, a watchman, a gardener, and a charwoman, are also

attached to the Observatory.

'The whole number of persons regularly employed at the

Observatory is fifty-three.'

The day work, as said before, is by far the greatest in amount,

the 'office hours' being from nine till half-past four, with an

hour's interval. The arrangements for the night watches present some

complications.

For many years the instruments in regular use were two only, the

transit circle and the altazimuth. The arrangements for observing

were simple. Four assistants divided the work between them thus: an

assistant was on duty with the transit circle one day, his watch

beginning about six a.m. or a little later, and ending about three

the following morning; a watch of twenty-one hours in maximum

length. The second day his duties were entirely computational, and

were only two or three hours in length. The third day he had a full

day's work on the calculations, followed by a night duty with the

altazimuth. The latter instrument might give him a very easy watch

or a terribly severe one. If the moon were a young one it was easy,

especially if the night was clear, as in that case an hour was

enough to secure the observations required.

Very different was the case with a full moon, especially in the

long, often cloudy, nights of winter. Then a vigilant watch had to

be kept from sunset to sunrise, so that in case of a short break

in the clouds the moon might yet be observed. Such a watch was the

severest (with one exception) that an assistant had to undergo.

His fourth day would then resemble his second, and with the fifth

day a second cycle of his quartan fever would commence, the symptoms

following each other in the same sequence as before.

Such a routine carried on with iron inflexibility was exceedingly

trying, as it was absolutely impossible for an observer to keep any

regularity in his hours of rest or times for meals.

This routine has been considerably modified by the present

Astronomer Royal, partly because the instruments now in regular

daily use are five instead of two, and partly because a less

stringent system has proved not merely far less wearing to the

observers, but also much more prolific of results. It was impossible

for a man to be at his best for long under the old _régime_, and

from forty-six to forty-seven has been an ordinary age for an

assistant to break down under the strain.

One point in which the observing work has been lightened has been in

the discontinuance of the altazimuth observations at the full of the

moon, another in the shortening of the hours of the transit circle

watch; and a further and most important one in the arrangement that

the observers with the larger instruments should have help at their

work. The net result of these changes has been a most striking

increase in the amount of work achieved. Thus, whilst in the year

ending May 20, 1875, 3780 transits were taken with the transit

circle, and 3636 determinations of north polar distance; in that

ending May 10, 1895, the numbers had risen to 11,240 and 11,006

respectively, the telescope remaining precisely the same.

One principle of Airy's rule still remains. So far as possible no

observer is on duty for two consecutive days, but a long day of desk

work and observing is followed by a short day of desk work without

observing.

It will be readily understood that with five principal telescopes

in constant work and one or two minor ones, some demanding two

observers, others only one, each telescope having its special

programme and its special hours of work, whilst by no means every

member of the staff is authorized to observe with all instruments

indifferently, it becomes a somewhat intricate matter to arrange the

weekly _rota_ in strict accordance with the foregoing principle, and

with the further one, that whilst a considerable amount of Sunday

observing is inevitable, the average duty of an observer should be

three days a week, not seven days a fortnight. There is a story,

received with much reserve at Cambridge, that there was once a man

at that university who had mastered all the colours and combinations

of shades and colours of the various colleges and clubs. If so

gifted a being ever existed, he may be paralleled by the Greenwich

assistant who can predict for any future epoch the sequence of

duties throughout the entire establishment. At any rate, one of the

first items in the week's programme is the preparation of the _rota_

for the week, or rather, to use an ecclesiastical term, for the

'octave,' _i.e._ from the Monday to the Monday following.

The special work to be carried out on any telescope is likewise

a matter of programme. For the transit circle a list of the most

important objects to be observed is supplied for the observer's

use, and the general lines upon which the other stars are to be

selected from a huge 'Working Catalogue' are well understood.

With some of the other telescopes the principles upon which the

objects are to be selected are laid down, but the actual choice

is left to the discretion of the observer at the time. There

is no time for the watcher to spend in what the outsider would

regard as 'discovery'; such as sweeping for comets or asteroids,

hunting for variable stars, sketching planets, and so forth.

Indeed, there is a story current in the Observatory that some fifty

years ago, when the tide of asteroid discovery first set in, Airy

found an assistant, since famous, working with a telescope on his

'off-duty' night. That stern disciplinarian asked what business the

assistant had to be there on his free night, and on being told he

was 'searching for new planets,' he was severely reprimanded and

ordered to discontinue at once. A similar energy would not meet

so gruff a discouragement to-day; but the routine work so fully

occupies both staff and telescopes that an assistant may be most

thoroughly devoted to his science, and yet pass a decade at the

Observatory without ever seeing those 'show places' of the sky which

an amateur would have run over in the first week after receiving his

telescope. For example, there is no refractor in the British Isles

so competent to bring out the vivid green light of the great Orion

nebula--that marvellous mass of glowing, curdling, emerald cloud--or

the indescribable magnificence of the myriad suns that cluster

like swarming bees or the grapes of Eshcol in the constellation of

Hercules; yet probably most of the staff have never seen either

spectacle through it. The professional astronomer who is worth his

salt will find abundance of charm and interest in his work, but he

will not,

'Like a girl,

Valuing the giddy pleasures of the eyes,'

consider the charm to lie mainly in the occasional sight of

wonderful beauty which his work may bring to him, nor the interest

in some chance phenomenon which may make his name known.

It is not every field of astronomy that is cultivated at Greenwich.

The search for comets and for 'pocket planets' forms no part of

its programme; and the occupation so fascinating to those who take

it up, of drawing the details on the surfaces of the moon, Mars,

Jupiter, or Saturn, has been but little followed. Such work is here

incidental, not fundamental, and the same may be said of certain

spectroscopic observations of new or variable stars, and of many

similar subjects. Work such as this is most interesting to the

general public, and is followed with much devotion by many amateur

astronomers. For that very reason it does not form an integral

part of the programme of our State observatory. But work which

is necessary for the general good, or for the advancement of the

science, and which demands observations carried on continuously for

many years, and strict unity of instruments and methods, cannot

possibly be left to chance individual zeal, and is therefore rightly

made the first object at Greenwich.

Those striking discoveries which from time to time appeal strongly

to the popular imagination, and which have rendered so justly

famous some of the great observatories of the sister continent, have

not often been made here.

Its work has, none the less, been not only useful but essential. A

century ago, when we were engaged in the hand-to-hand struggle with

Napoleon, by far the most brilliant part of that naval war which we

waged against the French, and the most productive of prize-money,

was carried on by our cruisers, who captured valuable prizes in

every sea. But a much greater service, indeed an absolutely vital

one, was rendered to the State by those line-of-battle ships which

were told off to watch the harbours wherein the French fleet was

taking refuge. This was a work void of the excitement, interest,

and profit of cruising. It was monotonous, wearing, and almost

inglorious, but absolutely necessary to the very existence of

England. So the continuance for more than two centuries of daily

observations of places of moon, stars, and planets is likewise

'monotonous, wearing, and almost inglorious;' the one compensation

is that it is essential to the life of astronomy.

The eight Astronomers Royal have, as already said, kept the

Observatory strictly on the lines originally laid down for it,

subject, of course, to that enlargement which the growth of

the science has inevitably brought. But had they been inclined

to change its course, the Board of Visitors has been specially

appointed to bring them back to the right way. As already mentioned

in the account of Flamsteed, the Board dates from 1710, when it

practically consisted of the President and Council of the Royal

Society. Its Royal warrant lapsed on the death of Queen Anne, and

was not renewed at the accession of the two following sovereigns;

but in the reign of George III. a new warrant was issued under date

February 22, 1765; and this was renewed at the accession of George

IV. When William IV. came to the throne, the constitution of the

Board was extended, so as to give a representation to the new Royal

Astronomical Society, founded in 1820. The President of the Royal

Society is still chairman of the Board, but the Admiralty, of which

the Observatory is a department, the two Universities of Oxford and

Cambridge, and the Royal Astronomical Society are all represented on

it by _ex officio_ members, and twelve other members are contributed

by the Royal and Royal Astronomical Societies respectively, six

by each. The first Saturday in June is the appointed day for the

annual inspection by the Board, and for the presentation to it

of the Astronomer Royal's Report. To this all-important business

meeting has been added something of a social function, by the

invitation of many well-known astronomers and the leading men of the

allied sciences to inspect the results of the year, and to partake

of the chocolate and cracknels, which have been the traditional

refreshments offered on these occasions for a period 'whereof the

memory of man runneth not to the contrary.'

The Royal Observatory, Greenwich: A Glance at Its History and Work · 第 5 / 13 章