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THE LIFE OF
ROGER LANGDON
TOLD BY HIMSELF
With Additions by his Daughter
Ellen
LONDON
ELLIOT STOCK
62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C.
"PROGRESS OF ASTRONOMY"
[_From "Whitaker's Almanack" for 1895, under the heading "Progress of
Astronomy."_]
Mr. Langdon, station-master at Silverton, on the Great Western Railway,
a self-taught astronomer, died on July 18, 1894. Mr. Langdon made in his
spare hours an 8-inch silver-on-glass mirror, grinding it on a machine
of his own construction. In 1872 he contributed a paper to the _Monthly
Notices_ of the Royal Astronomical Society on "The Markings of Venus."
PREFACE
The writing of this foreword to the biography of the late Mr. Roger
Langdon should have devolved upon one of the notable personages who had
an admiration for him and his work, but unhappily they have all, or
nearly all, passed away. Unquestionably the person best fitted for the
task would have been the late Rev. H. Fox Strangways, rector of
Silverton during the period when Mr. Langdon acted as station-master
there. They had a very cordial liking and respect for each other, and
Mr. Strangways could doubtless have imparted a personal and intimate
touch to this preface which would have been very valuable.
When Miss Ellen Langdon desired me to undertake this portion of the work
I felt honoured, though diffident. A feeling that it was my clear duty
to pay any mark of respect I could to the memory of this worthy man
decided me to accept her invitation.
My acquaintance with Mr. Langdon dates back to a few years before his
death when my father was general manager of the Great Western Railway
and Mr. Langdon was still at work at Silverton. My father's attention
had been called to the personality and attainments of the Silverton
station-master, and as I was at that time doing a little journalism in
odd moments it was suggested that I should run down and write something
for the _Great Western Magazine_, which I was very pleased to do.
At that little wayside station just on the London side of Exeter I
therefore found myself one summer afternoon. The village of Silverton,
distant two miles from the station, was not visible, and the principal
features in the immediate vicinity were the station-master's house, with
the front garden between it and the station, and in the front garden a
circular iron building with a cone-shaped revolving roof, which, I
found, was an observatory sheltering a telescope for celestial
observation.
The tall, slightly stooping, white-bearded old station-master at once
arrested attention. A dignified, patriarchal type of man, with a kindly,
pleasant and simple manner, he was evidently much averse to all forms of
affectation and cant. I was quickly made welcome and introduced to his
wife and well-ordered home.
We were immediately on excellent terms. I remember the eager pride with
which he showed me his beloved telescope and its mounting and
accessories, including the sidereal clock, and how I gazed under his
direction at the heavenly objects which the night disclosed. The evening
we spent together was a very memorable one. Mr. Langdon recounted the
hardships and adventures of his career, and gave me an insight into the
manifold difficulties and obstacles he had overcome in attaining the
means of observing the celestial bodies in which he took so absorbing an
interest. He also displayed for my amusement the ingenious church with
chimes and other works of his hands.
It is distinctly to be regretted that his autobiography ceases before
the period when he made his four telescopes. His own account of his
trials and difficulties and of the indefatigable inventive genius he
showed in grappling with them would have been most instructive. His
achievements become very impressive when his environment and paucity of
means are remembered.
Long hours of duty at a little country station, the support and clothing
of himself, his wife, and eight children who required to be educated and
placed out in the world--all accomplished on a weekly wage, which from
his marriage to old age averaged only 30_s._, and was in the earlier
years much less--would have been enough to exhaust the energy and
resources of any ordinary man. Nevertheless Mr. Langdon found time and
means to learn French, Greek, and Shorthand, to amuse his family and
neighbours with lantern lectures, and to make and use effectively four
telescopes, so that eventually his reputation spread to the Royal
Astronomical Society, before which he read a paper on his discoveries
and observations. Bear in mind that money was so scarce that he was
practically reduced to make everything, even his tools, with his own
hands from the crude materials, groping his way through the mists of
uncertainty and disappointment to the haven of ultimate success.
He was fortunate in his marriage, or he would probably never have
succeeded as he did. He always referred to his wife as an inestimable
blessing, and was, by her help, as free from home cares as a man with
so small an income and eight children could be. The widow of the late
rector of Silverton bears testimony to the virtues and many good works
of this estimable couple. Their children rise up and call them blessed.
Their character and example even in this small locality and limited
sphere must have been of very marked value.
The career of Roger Langdon provides for all of us a striking
illustration of what force of character will accomplish even in the
humblest surroundings and in the face of the most serious obstacles.
Such men working persistently onwards and upwards with such slight
recognition and encouragement are the real heroes of life, and their
memory should be kept green for the benefit of those who come after
them.
H. CLIFTON LAMBERT.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
PREFACE 5
I. "WHY WAS I BORN?" 11
II. CHILDHOOD'S DAYS 18
III. STARTING IN LIFE 28
IV. MY SECRET DEPARTURE 38
V. LIFE IN JERSEY 48
VI. RETURN AND MARRIAGE 58
VII. SCIENTIFIC ACHIEVEMENTS 67
VIII. CLOSING YEARS 78
APPENDICES 87
CHAPTER I
"WHY WAS I BORN?"
As earth's pageant passes by,
Let reflection turn thine eye
Inward, and observe thy breast;
There alone dwells solid rest.
That's a close immured tower
Which can mock all hostile power;
To thyself a tenant be
And inhabit safe and free.
Say not that the house is small
Girt up in a narrow wall
The infinite Creator can
Dwell there--and may not man?
There content make thine abode
With thyself and with thy God.
I HAVE no distinct recollection of my birth, although I believe I was a
prominent actor in the performance. The very first thing, or rather,
circumstance that I remember, was the birth of my sister, when I was two
years and five months old. Old Nanny Holland, who did duty as midwife,
nurse and housekeeper, used to allow me to go out and play with the
water and dabble in the mud; then she would call me in and smack me well
and call me bad names, and shut me under the stairs until my pinafore
was dry. I can quite well remember crying and asking myself, "Why was I
born?" especially as old Nanny paid greater attention to me in this
respect, than to any of my older brothers. Then, as I grew older, there
was my father who thoroughly believed that the stick was a cure for all
complaints, and acting upon King Solomon's advice, never spared the rod.
On these occasions, I always asked myself the question, "Why was I
born?"
As soon as old Nanny had gone out of the house, I asked my mother if it
was likely that old Nanny would bring another baby next week; and when
my kind and loving mother stroked my hair, and smiled and said "No," I
was very soon out in the lane making bricks and building houses with
mud. My mother did not smack me for this as old Nanny had done, but she
would call me and speak to me about making myself dirty, and somehow,
whenever she spoke she was always obeyed. She used to have me by her
knee and teach me Dr. Watts's hymns. I have lived to hear those hymns
scoffed at, but I still think they might do good to some young people.
Now at the age of fifty I take great delight in the study of science and
astronomy. Who shall say that my dear good mother did not lay the
foundation stone, and set my young mind thinking of the wonderful works
of God, by teaching me--
I sing the almighty power of God
That made the mountains rise,
That spread the flowing seas abroad
And built the lofty skies.
I sing the wisdom that ordained
The sun to rule the day.
The moon shines full at His command
And all the stars obey.
This hymn, and other precepts taught by my gentle mother, sank deep into
my mind, and set me thinking and pondering over the works of God, and
led me to ask all sorts of questions, and I might say that I received
all sorts of answers, which made me still more inquisitive, until my
father would tell me to hold my tongue. I do not wish it to be
understood that my father was a wrong-headed man, far from it; for I am
sure that he possessed some of the finest qualities that adorn human
nature. He possessed, in the very highest degree, the qualities of
truth, justice, honour, and honesty of purpose; he considered it an
exceedingly bad practice to owe anything to anybody, so he rose very
early in the morning and took rest late that he might maintain his
children, in what he termed "poor independence." Moreover, he being the
parish clerk and Sunday school master--there was no week-day school--he
had a very high veneration for the Church. He was also choir master and
organist. Therefore he was a power in the village, and used his stick
accordingly. Woe to any bellringer who thoughtlessly entered the door of
the church, without removing his hat from his head. "How dare you," he
would say, "enter the sanctuary of the Lord in that heathenish manner?"
and the men I know very highly respected him, and obeyed his orders
without a murmur. He would never allow cider, which was the drink of the
country, to be brought inside the church gate; it was consecrated ground
and was not to be defiled.
He was like Job in one thing, he was the father of seven sons and three
daughters.
The state of England at that time was very bad indeed, and the poor were
really oppressed, especially in our remote part of the country. Well, my
father had enough to do to make both ends meet, and how he and my mother
slaved and toiled to keep out of debt! My brothers and myself were sent
to work at a very early age, at whatever we could get, and at this
period, when the oppression was so great, I was always asking myself,
"Why was I born?"
In the year 1829, when I was four years of age, my father and mother had
not heard of Dr. Jenner, and his plan of vaccination. If they had they
would have surely fallen in with the idea, and would have acted upon it.
It was the custom in those days that whenever small-pox made its
appearance in the village, the mother of a family would take one of her
children to the infected house, and place her healthy child in the bed
of the person who had the malady. This was done so that the infection
should not come upon her family unawares, but that she might be somewhat
in a position to receive it, and with a little judicious management,
generally to keep the disease under subjection; that is to say, she
could generally manage so that only one of her children should be down
with the small-pox at one time. Whereas, if she allowed the infection to
come upon her in its natural course, probably all her children would be
down at once with the disease.
Now there was a boy who was said to be dying of small-pox, and whether
it was ignorance, or superstition, or a combination of both, I do not
know, but it was considered best, to let your children catch the
small-pox from those who were suffering most violently. Accordingly I
was taken to the house where the boy lay dying, and there I was partly
undressed and placed in the cradle by the side of the boy, and I was to
stay there until I got warm and comfortable. As far as my own thoughts
went in the matter I thought it very good fun, especially as when I was
ill I should be out of the way of the stick at any rate. But while I was
thinking over these matters, who should stalk into the room but old
Nanny Holland. Nanny was a sort of oracle in the village, besides being
a kind of quack doctor, and what with her superior cunning, and evil
temper, always excited more or less with gin, she held most of the poor
women under her thumb, and when she approached the cradle where we were
lying, I thought she looked more evil than usual. She looked at the
cradle, then at the boy's mother, and said, "Why don't you let the cheil
(_child_) die? He can't die shut up in an infernal crile like this." And
thereupon she dragged me out, and put me down, by no means lightly, upon
the floor; she then tore away the foot of the cradle, so that the boy's
feet could extend further down, and he was a corpse directly.
It appears from Nanny's theory, that although the child was in the agony
of death, and with the last pang upon him, yet the vital spark could not
part from him, until his crib was lengthened sufficiently to allow his
feet to stretch downward without hindrance. I have sometimes thought
that perhaps old Nanny was more than half right in her theory.
Now, I cannot tell whether the virus of the boy's small-pox was too far
spent, or whether I was an extraordinarily healthy subject, or whether
perhaps old Nanny frightened me, but certain it is, I did not catch the
small-pox. Therefore there was but one alternative, and that was, that I
must be inoculated, or, as the villagers expressed, it "knockle-headed."
As soon as I discovered this I really began to quake with fear, and to
wonder why I was born. Not that I feared the operation itself, as I had
seen it performed on others, but I dreadfully feared the doctor who
would perform upon me. I had not long to wait before my suspicions and
fears were brought to a climax, for my mother took me off to Nanny
Holland.
Nanny soon began to see about "knockle-heading" the children, and when
she turned to me first, and I saw her coming towards me, with her
surgical knife, my hair stood on end with fright. Where she obtained the
virus from I do not know, but she clawed hold of my arm, and stabbed a
stocking needle through the skin, and lifting the skin upwards at the
same time with a razor in her hand, cut a piece, about the size of a
threepenny bit, three parts off, a bit of the skin being left in the way
of a hinge; then with the point of an old knife, she plastered some
matter into the wound, just as you might see a painter stopping a hole
in a board with putty; then she replaced the slice of skin with the
following caution, "Now, youngster, if you scratch that off, I'll kill
thee." My little sister was put through the same process, and Louisa
Gard, a little chubby happy cherub of about four years of age, and a
constant playmate of ours, was also operated upon.
In due course old Nanny's "matter" began to work. My sister was very ill
with small-pox, and so also was little Louisa. As for myself, I had it
very slightly, in fact no one but my mother knew that I had the malady
upon me. My sister got well in time, but of course the small-pox left
its marks severely upon her. Poor little Louisa never rallied; or if she
got over the small-pox, she had croup, which was too much for her, and
she crossed over into the Land of Beulah.
Louisa and my sister and myself had attended the Sunday school, for
there was no week-day school. I asked mother if Louisa would come back,
and she said "No, but if you are a good boy, you will someday go where
she is gone." Then I would go out and look up at the stars, and wonder
if I should see Louisa flitting about from star to star, but my mother
said, "No, you will not see her there, but you will meet her again at
the last day; and if you grow up to be a good man, you will hear the
Great Judge say, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, and inherit the Kingdom
prepared for you, from the foundation of the world.'" This and other
passages of Scripture my mother taught me before I was really able to
pronounce the words after her. All this was my religious instruction,
besides what I learnt in the Sunday school.