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Transcriber’s note:
When italics were used in the original book, the
corresponding text has been surrounded by _underscores_
except in the case of single letter variables used in
the Notes section, where the italics were not represented.
Mixed fractions have been displayed with a hyphen between
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the text.
CAROLINE HERSCHEL.
[Illustration:
_Joseph Brown sc_
_Caroline Herschel._
_ÆTAT 92._]
MEMOIR AND CORRESPONDENCE OF CAROLINE HERSCHEL.
by
MRS. JOHN HERSCHEL.
With Portraits.
SECOND EDITION.
London:
John Murray, Albemarle Street.
1879.
INTRODUCTION.
FAMILIAR to all as is the name this volume bears, it is not without
hesitation that the following pages are given to the world. To subject
the memorials of a deeply earnest life to the eyes of a generation
overcrowded with books, raises a certain amount of diffidence.
Of Caroline Herschel herself most people will plead ignorance without
feeling ashamed, and yet may we not assert that Caroline Herschel is
well worth knowing.
Great men and great causes have always some helper of whom the outside
world knows but little. There always is, and always has been, some human
being in whose life their roots have been nourished. Sometimes these
helpers have been men, sometimes they have been women, who have given
themselves to help and to strengthen those called upon to be leaders and
workers, inspiring them with courage, keeping faith in their own idea
alive, in days of darkness,
When all the world seems adverse to desert.
These helpers and sustainers, men or women, have all the same quality in
common—absolute devotion and unwavering faith in the individual or in
the cause. Seeking nothing for themselves, thinking nothing of
themselves, they have all an intense power of sympathy, a noble love of
giving themselves for the service of others, which enables them to
transfuse the force of their own personality into the object to which
they dedicate their powers.
Of this noble company of unknown helpers Caroline Herschel was one.
She stood beside her brother, William Herschel, sharing his labours,
helping his life. In the days when he gave up a lucrative career that he
might devote himself to astronomy, it was owing to her thrift and care
that he was not harassed by the rankling vexations of money matters. She
had been his helper and assistant in the days when he was a leading
musician; she became his helper and assistant when he gave himself up to
astronomy. By sheer force of will and devoted affection, she learned
enough of mathematics and of methods of calculation, which to those
unlearned seem mysteries, to be able to commit to writing the results of
his researches. She became his assistant in the workshop; she helped him
to grind and polish his mirrors; she stood beside his telescope in the
nights of midwinter, to write down his observations, when the very ink
was frozen in the bottle. She kept him alive by her care; thinking
nothing of herself, she lived for him. She loved him, and believed in
him, and helped him, with all her heart and with all her strength. She
might have become a distinguished woman on her own account, for with the
“seven-foot Newtonian sweeper” given to her by her brother, she
discovered eight comets first and last. But the pleasure of seeking and
finding for herself was scarcely tasted. She “minded the heavens” for
her brother; she worked for him, not for herself, and the unconscious
self-denial with which she gave up her own pleasure in the use of her
“sweeper,” is not the least beautiful feature in her life. She must have
been witty and amusing, to judge from her books of “Recollections.” When
past eighty, she wrote what she called “a little history of my life from
1772-1778” for her nephew, Sir John Herschel, the son of her brother
William, that he might know something of his excellent grandparents, as
well as of the immense difficulties which his father had to surmount in
his life and labours. It was not to tell about herself, but of others,
that she wrote them. There is not any good biography of Sir William
Herschel, and the incidental revelations of him in these Recollections
are valuable. They show how well he deserved the love and devotion she
rendered to him. Great as were his achievements in science, and his
genius, they were borne up and ennobled by the beauty and worth of his
own inner life.
These memorials of his father and his aunt were much valued by Sir John
Herschel, and they are carefully preserved by the family along with her
letters. The perusal of them is like reading of another world. The
glimpses of the life of a soldier’s family in Hanover at the time the
Seven Years’ War was going on are very touching. Both father and mother
must have been remarkable persons, and the sterling quality of character
developed in William and Caroline Herschel was evidently derived from
them. All the family seem to have been endowed with something like
touches of genius, but William and Caroline were the only two who had
the strong back-bone of perseverance and high principle which made
genius in them fulfil its perfect work.
Her own recollections go back to the Great Earthquake at Lisbon; she
lived through the American War, the old French Revolution, the rise and
fall of Napoleon, and all manner of lesser events and wars. She saw all
the improvements and inventions, from the lumbering post waggon in which
she made her first journey from Hanover, to the railroads and electric
telegraphs which have intersected all Europe, for she lived well down
into the reign of Victoria. But her work of “minding the heavens” with
her brother engrossed all her thoughts, and she scarcely mentions any
public event.
Her own astronomical labours were remarkable, and in her later life she
met with honour and recognition from learned men and learned societies;
but her dominant idea was always the same—“I am nothing, I have done
nothing; all I am, all I know, I owe to my brother. I am only the tool
which he shaped to his use—a well-trained puppy-dog would have done as
much.” Every word said in her own praise seemed to be so much taken away
from the honour due to her brother. She had lived so many years in
companionship with a truly great man, and in the presence of the
unfathomable depths of the starry heavens, that praise of herself seemed
childish exaggeration.
The Letters and Recollections contained in this volume will show what
she really was. She would have been very angry if she could have
foreseen their publication, yet, in consideration of the great interest
they possess, we hope to be justified for making known to the world such
an example of self-sacrifice and perseverance under difficulties.
The spelling has been modernised,—an old lady who had discovered eight
comets might be allowed to spell in her own way; but it is pleasanter to
read what is written in an accustomed manner. A word has been altered
occasionally where the sense required it, otherwise no change has been
made, and as little has been added as was possible, and only with the
view of giving a slight connecting thread of narrative.
If these Recollections convey as much pleasure to the readers of them as
they have given to the Editor, they will feel that they have gained
another friend in Caroline Lucretia Herschel.
_December, 1875._
NOTE.
WHEN past ninety a second memoir was undertaken, and in order to
encourage her to continue it her niece, Lady Herschel, wrote to her as
follows:—.... “Now, my dearest aunt, you must let me make an earnest
petition to you, and that is, that you will _go on_ with your memoir
until you leave England and take up your residence in Hanover. How can I
tell you how much my heart is set upon the accomplishment of this
work?... You know you cannot be _idle_ while you live. But indeed, if I
could tell you the influence which a short account by a stranger of
_your_ labours with your dear Brother had upon me when a child, and of
my choosing _you_ (then so unknown to me) as my guiding star and
example, you would understand how the possession of such a record by
your own hand would make me almost believe in auguries and
presentiments, and perhaps inspire some future generations more
worthily, as the record would be more genuine.”
August 9, 1841.
May we not echo this hope, and feel indeed that “SHE BEING DEAD YET
SPEAKETH.”
M. C. H.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
EARLY LIFE IN HANOVER—MUSICAL TALENTS OF HER BROTHER WILLIAM—MARRIAGE OF
HER SISTER—THE REGIMENT ORDERED TO ENGLAND—HER FATHER’S
INDUSTRY—TYPHUS FEVER—CONFIRMATION—DEATH OF FATHER—ACCOMPANIES WILLIAM
TO ENGLAND
1
CHAPTER II.
LIFE IN BATH—HEIMWEH—THE MIGHTY TELESCOPE—LAST PERFORMANCE IN
PUBLIC—CASTING THE GREAT MIRROR—WILLIAM HERSCHEL GOES TO LONDON—MADE
ROYAL ASTRONOMER—REMOVAL TO DATCHET—ACCIDENTS—GRANT OF £2,000—LIFE AT
SLOUGH—LETTERS FROM HANOVER—DISCOVERY OF A COMET
29
CHAPTER III.
WILLIAM HERSCHEL’S MARRIAGE—DISCOVERY OF THE EIGHTH COMET—EXTRACTS FROM
DAY-BOOK AND DIARY—VISIT TO BATH—RETURN TO SLOUGH—RESIDES AT
UPTON—ILLNESS—FEAR OF BLINDNESS
78
CHAPTER IV.
EXTRACTS FROM DIARY—WILLIAM HERSCHEL KNIGHTED—FAILING HEALTH—HER
BROTHER’S PORTRAIT—DEATH OF ALEXANDER—DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM—HER RETURN
TO HANOVER—RECOLLECTIONS WRITTEN AT HANOVER
118
CHAPTER V.
RETROSPECTION—LIFE IN HANOVER—HER HUMILITY—HER WORKS—MADE HON. MEMBER OF
THE ROYAL ASTRONOMICAL SOCIETY—HER SWEEPINGS—BLANK IN HER LIFE AT
HANOVER—LETTERS TO LADY HERSCHEL—LETTERS BETWEEN HER AND HER
NEPHEW—VISIT FROM HER NEPHEW—FINISHES HER CATALOGUE OF THE NEBULÆ
141
CHAPTER VI.
LIFE IN HANOVER CONTINUED—LETTERS BETWEEN HER AND HER NEPHEW—HER
WILL—FIRST CHAPTER OF HER HISTORY—RECEIVES THE GOLD MEDAL OF THE ROYAL
ASTRONOMICAL SOCIETY—FEARFUL STORM—HER PORTRAIT—HER NEPHEW’S
MARRIAGE—PREPARATION FOR HER DEATH—PAGANINI—HER NEPHEW KNIGHTED—LADY
HERSCHEL’S DEATH—RETROSPECTION
196
CHAPTER VII.
LETTERS FROM THE CAPE—HON. MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ASTRONOMICAL
SOCIETY—CATALOGUE OF OMITTED STARS—LETTERS—SATURN AND HIS SIXTH
SATELLITE—HER NEPHEW’S VISIT—HON. MEMBER OF THE ROYAL IRISH
ACADEMY—EXTRACTS FROM DAY-BOOK—ANECDOTE OF THE OLD TELESCOPE—CHRISTMAS
IN HANOVER—GOLD MEDAL FROM THE KING OF PRUSSIA—DECLINING
STRENGTH—DEATH—FUNERAL
262
TO BINDER.
Portrait of Caroline Herschel. _Frontispiece._
Portrait of Sir William Herschel, after the original by Abbott, in the
National Portrait Gallery, to face p. 118.
Herschel’s Forty-foot Telescope, to face p. 29.
CAROLINE HERSCHEL.
CHAPTER I.
RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY LIFE IN HANOVER.
CAROLINE LUCRETIA HERSCHEL was born at Hanover on the 16th of March,
1750. She was the eighth child and fourth daughter of Isaac Herschel, by
Anna Ilse Moritzen, to whom he was married in August, 1732. The family
consisted of ten children, four of whom died in early childhood.
A memorandum in the handwriting of Isaac Herschel, transcribed by his
daughter in the original German at the beginning of her Recollections,
traces the family back to the early part of the seventeenth century,
about which time, it appears that three brothers _Herschel_ left Moravia
on account of their religion (which was Protestant), and became
possessors of land in Saxony. One of these brothers, Hans, was a brewer
at Pirna, a little town two miles from Dresden, and the father of two
sons, one of whom, Abraham by name, was born in 1651, was the father of
the above-mentioned Isaac, and the grandfather of Caroline Lucretia
Herschel. Abraham Herschel was employed in the royal gardens at Dresden,
he received commissions from various quarters on account of his taste
and skill as a landscape gardener. Of his four children, Eusebius, the
eldest, appears to have kept up little or no intercourse with his family
after the father’s death in 1718. The second child, Apollonia, married a
landed proprietor, Herr von Thümer. Benjamin, the second son, died in
his third year; and Isaac, the youngest, was born 14th of January, 1707,
and was thus an orphan at the early age of eleven years. His parents
wished him to be a gardener like his father, but a passionate love of
music led him to take every opportunity of practising on the violin,
besides studying music under a hautboy-player in the royal band. When he
was about one and twenty he resolved to seek his fortune, and went to
Berlin, where the style of hautboy playing was so little to his taste
that he soon left it, and went to Potsdam, where he studied for a year
under the celebrated Cappell Meister Pabrïch, the means for so doing
being supplied by his mother and sister; his brother, as he quaintly
remarks, contenting himself with writing him letters in praise of the
virtue of economy! In July, 1731, he went to Brunswick, and in August to
Hanover, where he at once obtained an engagement as hautboy-player in
the band of the Guards, and in the August following he married as above
stated.
[Sidenote: 1675-1731. _Early Recollections._]
The family group to which Miss Herschel’s autobiography introduces us
consisted of—
1. Sophia Elizabeth, born in 1733. [Afterwards Mrs. Griesbach.]
2. Henry Anton Jacob, born 20th November, 1734.
(4) 3. Frederic William, born 15th November, 1738.
(6) 4. John Alexander, born 13th November, 1745.
(8) 5. Carolina Lucretia, born 16th March, 1750; and
(10) 6. The little Dietrich, born 13th September, 1755.
With the exception of frequent absences from home which attendance on a
regiment made inevitable, the family life went on smoothly enough for
some years, the father taking every opportunity, when at home, to
cultivate the musical talents of his sons, who depended for the ordinary
routine of education on the garrison school, to which all the children
went from the age of two to fourteen. Here the splendid talents of
_William_ early displayed themselves, and the master confessed that the
pupil had soon got beyond his teacher. Although four years younger than
Jacob, when the two brothers had lessons in French, the younger had
mastered the language in half the time needed by the elder, and he in
some measure satisfied his eager desire for knowledge by attending out
of school hours to learn all that his master could teach of Latin and
arithmetic. At fourteen he was an excellent performer both on the oboe
and violin.
[Sidenote: 1743-1754. _Early Recollections._]
The first serious calamity recorded was the irreparable injury caused to
the father’s health by the hardships of war. After the battle of
Dettingen (June 16th, 1743) the troops remained all night on the field,
which was soaked by heavy rains. The unfortunate bandmaster lay in a wet
furrow, which caused a complete loss of the use of his limbs for some
time, and left him with an impaired constitution and an asthmatical
affection which afflicted him to the end of his life. During the dark
times of the Seven Years’ War, the little Caroline, then her mother’s
sole companion, often heard this grievous trouble spoken of, and the
shadow of it cast a gloom over her childish recollections, most of which
are of a sombre character. At three years old she was a deeply
interested participator in all the family concerns, and of that period
she writes:—
“It must have been in 1753 when my brother [Jacob, aged 19] was chosen
organist to the new organ in the garrison church; for I remember my
mother taking me with her the first Sunday on its opening, and that
before she had time to shut the pew door, I took fright at the beginning
of a preludium with a full accompaniment, so that I flew out of church
and home again. I also remember to have seen my brother William
confirmed in his new oböisten uniform.”
The next interesting event was the marriage of the eldest daughter, who
was living with a family at Brunswick, and whom her sister says she had
never seen until she came home to be married. The bridegroom, Mr.
Griesbach, also a musician in the Guard, found no favour in the eyes of
his sister-in-law, and it is evidently some satisfaction to her to have
been told that her father never cordially approved the match,
“for ... he knew him at least to be but a very middling musician, and
this alone would have been enough for my father’s disapprobation.”
Great preparations were made for
“providing and furnishing a habitation (which happened to be in the same
house where my parents lived), which they did in as handsome a manner as
their straitened income would allow, and to which my dear brothers took
delight in contributing to the best of their ability. I remember how
delighted I was when they were showing me the pretty framed pictures
with which my brother William had decorated his sister’s room, and heard
my mother relate afterwards, that the brothers had taken two months’ pay
in advance for the wedding entertainment.... Though for stocking a
family with household linen my mother was prepared at all times, as
perhaps never a more diligent spinner was heard of; but to keep pace
with the wishes of my dear brothers, by whom my sister was, as well as
by her parents, exceedingly beloved—the whole family were kept for a
time in an agreeable bustle to see that nothing that could give either
pleasure or comfort might be wanting in her future establishment.... The
fête (without which it would have been scandalous in those days to get
married) ended with a ball, at which I remember to have been dancing
among the rest without a partner.”
[Sidenote: 1753-1755. _Early Recollections._]
A little later, when war troubles broke up the household, and the bride
returned to her mother, we are told:
“my sister was not of a very patient temper, and could not be reconciled
to have children about her, and I was mostly, when not in school, sent
with Alexander to play on the walls or with the neighbour’s children, in
which I seldom could join, and often stood freezing on shore to see my
brother skating on the Stadtgraben (town ditch) till he chose to go
home. In short, there was no one who cared anything about me.”
The earthquake which destroyed Lisbon on the 1st November 1755, was
strongly felt at Hanover, and became closely associated in the poor
little girl’s mind with the trials and troubles which shortly afterwards
fell upon the family. She says:—
“One morning early I was with my father and mother alone in the room,
the latter putting my clothes on, when all at once I saw both standing
aghast and speechless before me; at the same time my brothers, my
sister, and Griesbach came running in, all being panic-struck by the
earthquake.”
For a little while the family enjoyed a peaceful interval, during which
the extraordinary proficiency of his two eldest sons was a growing
source of delight to the father, whose utmost ambition was to see them
become accomplished musicians; while the wider flights of William met
with his most cordial sympathy. The following passage is one of the very
few which reflect the brighter side of the picture:—
“My brothers were often introduced as solo performers and assistants in
the orchestra of the court, and I remember that I was frequently
prevented from going to sleep by the lively criticism on music on coming
from a concert, or conversations on philosophical subjects which lasted
frequently till morning, in which my father was a lively partaker and
assistant of my brother William by contriving self-made instruments....
Often I would keep myself awake that I might listen to their animating
remarks, for it made _me so happy_ to see _them so happy_. But generally
their conversation would branch out on philosophical subjects, when my
brother William and my father often argued with such warmth, that my
mother’s interference became necessary, when the names Leibnitz, Newton,
and Euler sounded rather too loud for the repose of her little ones, who
ought to be in school by seven in the morning. But it seems that on the
brothers retiring to their own room, where they shared the same bed, my
brother William had still a great deal to say; and frequently it
happened that when he stopped for an assent or reply, he found his
hearer was gone to sleep, and I suppose it was not till then that he
bethought himself to do the same.
“The recollection of these happy scenes confirms me in the belief, that
had my brother William not then been interrupted in his philosophical
pursuits, we should have had much earlier proofs of his inventive
genius. My father was a great admirer of astronomy, and had some
knowledge of that science; for I remember his taking me, on a clear
frosty night, into the street, to make me acquainted with several of the
most beautiful constellations, after we had been gazing at a comet which
was then visible. And I well remember with what delight he used to
assist my brother William in his various contrivances in the pursuit of
his philosophical studies, among which was a neatly turned 4-inch globe,
upon which the equator and ecliptic were engraved by my brother.”
[Sidenote: 1755-1756. _Early Recollections._]
Towards the end of the year 1755 the regiment was under orders for
England, and the little household was at once broken up. A place in the
court orchestra had been promised to Jacob, but the vacancy did not,
unfortunately, occur in time, and he was obliged to smother his
discontent, lower his ambition, and accept a place in the band with his
younger brother. At length the sad hour of parting arrived:—
“In our room all was mute but in hurried action; my dear father was thin
and pale, and my brother William almost equally so, for he was of a
delicate constitution and just then growing very fast. Of my brother
Jacob I only remember his starting difficulties at everything that was
done for him, as my father was busy to see that they were equipped with
the necessaries for a march.... The whole town was in motion with drums
beating to march: the troops hallooed and roared in the streets, the
drums beat louder, Griesbach came to join my father and brothers, and in
a moment they all were gone. My sister fled to her own room. Alexander
went with many others to follow their relatives for some miles to take a
last look. I found myself now with my mother alone in a room all in
confusion, in one corner of which my little brother Dietrich lay in his
cradle; my tears flowed like my mother’s, but neither of us could speak.
I snatched a large handkerchief of my father’s from a chair and took a
stool to place it at my mother’s feet, on which I sat down, and put into
her hands one corner of the handkerchief, reserving the opposite one for
myself; this little action actually drew a momentary smile into her
face.... My father left half his pay for our support in the hands of an
agent in Hanover, but Griesbach, instead of following my father’s
example, gave up his lodging and brought his wife with her goods and
chattels to her mother, which arrangement was no small addition to our
uncomfortable situation.”
Even at this early age, it is not difficult to trace in these childish
recollections the influence of that intense affection for her brother
William which made him more and more the centre of all her interests;
next to him, her father filled a large place in her heart. Of the long
year of separation, nothing is recorded. At last Jacob arrived (having
“out of aggravation” got permission to resign his place when the
hoped-for vacancy in the orchestra had been otherwise filled) he had
travelled by post, while his father and brother, “who never forsook him
for self-consideration,” were still toiling wearily on the march home.
“My mother being very busy preparing dinner, had suffered me to go all
alone to the parade to meet my father, but I could not find him
anywhere, nor anybody whom I knew; so at last, when nearly frozen to
death, I came home and found them all at table. My dear brother William
threw down his knife and fork, and ran to welcome and crouched down to
me, which made me forget all my grievances. The rest were so happy ...
at seeing one another again, that my absence had never been perceived.”
[Sidenote: 1756-1757. _Early Recollections._]
The visit to England appears to have further developed the love of show
and luxury which painfully distinguished Jacob, who must needs import
specimens of English goods and English tailoring, while all that William
brought back was a copy of Locke on the Human Understanding, the
purchase of which absorbed all his private means, as he never willingly
asked his father for a single penny. But it was becoming apparent that
he had not the physical strength to continue in the Guard during war
time, and after the disastrous campaign of 1757, and the defeat at
Hastenbeck,[1] 26th July, 1757 (between 20 and 30 miles from Hanover),
his parents resolved to remove him—a step apparently attended by no
small difficulty, as our faithful chronicler narrates:—
“I can now comprehend the reason why we little ones were continually
sent out of the way, and why I had only by chance a passing glimpse of
my brother as I was sitting at the entrance of our street-door, when he
glided like a shadow along, wrapped in a great coat, followed by my
mother with a parcel containing his accoutrements. After he had
succeeded in passing unnoticed beyond the last sentinel at Herrenhausen
he changed his dress.... My brother’s keeping himself so carefully from
all notice was undoubtedly to avoid the danger of being pressed, for all
unengaged young men were forced into the service. Even the clergy,
unless they had livings, were not exempted.”
During these times of public and private peril, the little girl was sent
regularly to the garrison school with her brother Alexander till three
in the afternoon, when she went to another school till six, to learn
knitting.
“From that time forward I was fully employed in providing my brothers
with stockings, and remember that the first pair for Alexander touched
the floor when I stood upright finishing the front. Besides this my pen
was frequently in requisition for writing not only my mother’s letters
to my father, but for many a poor soldier’s wife in our neighbourhood to
her husband in the camp: for it ought to be remembered that in the
beginning of the last century very few women, when they left country
schools, had been taught to write.”
In addition to these occupations, she was called upon to make herself
useful when the fastidious Jacob honoured the humble table with his
presence, “and poor I got many a whipping for being awkward at supplying
the place of footman or waiter.” The sight of her mother constantly in
tears; the prolonged absence of her father; the sister’s unhappiness at
being homeless when about to become a mother; all these circumstances
combined to sadden the personal recollections of a time of almost
unsurpassed national calamity. After the loss of the battle at
Hastenbeck, the Recollections thus conclude this period.
[Sidenote: 1757-1760. _Early Recollections._]
“Nothing but distressing reports came from our army, and we were almost
immediately in the power of the French troops,[2] each house being
crammed with men. In that in which we were obliged to bewail in silence
our cruel fate, no less than 16 privates were quartered, besides some
officers who occupied the best apartments, and this lasted for about two
years [a note of later date says “not so long”] before the town was
liberated.”
A gap occurs here, between the years 1757 and 1760, several pages having
been torn out in both the original “Recollections” and the unfinished
memoir commenced in 1840. In the former, a sentence beginning “the next
time I saw him [Jacob] was when he came running to my mother with a
letter, the contents of which,” remains unfinished, and the narrative
recommences with: “After reading over many pages, I thought it best to
destroy them, and merely to write down what I remember to have passed in
our family.” Accordingly there is no record of anything preserved during
this interval until May, 1760, when the head of the family returned to
it for good—broken in health and worn out by hardships to which he was
no longer equal, but strong in purpose and devoting himself at once to
the musical education of his children and to giving lessons to the
numerous pupils who soon came to seek instruction from so excellent a
master. Jacob returned for the second time from England at the end of
1759, and obtained the place of first violin in the court orchestra. As
usual the appearance of this member of the family caused a general upset
of domestic comfort, for
“when he came to dine with us, it generally happened that before he
departed his mother was as much out of humour with him as he was at the
beefsteaks being hard, and because I did not know how to clean knives
and forks with brickdust.”
[Sidenote: 1760-1761. _Early Recollections._]
The younger children made great progress under their father’s careful
training, and with all her propensity for seeing the dark side, the
daughter’s recollections of this period afford glimpses of a tolerably
happy household. If it was “a helpless and distracted family” to which,
as she writes, her father returned, those epithets could ill apply to
the father himself, for there is abundant evidence that he was a man of
no ordinary character—one who, in spite of constant suffering of a most
distressing kind, persisted in hard work to the very end, and who set
his children a noble example of patience, unselfishness, and
self-denial. To the last, as his daughter records,—
“Copying music employed every vacant moment, even sometimes throughout
half the night, and the pen was not suffered to rest even when smoking a
pipe, which habit he indulged in rather on account of his asthmatical
constitution than as a luxury; for, without all exception, he was the
most abstemious liver I ever have known; and in every instance, even in
the article of clothing, the utmost frugality was observed, and yet he
never was seen otherwise than very neat.... With my brother [Dietrich]
now a little engaging creature of between four and five years old—he was
very much pleased, and [on the first evening of his arrival at home]
before he went to rest, the Adempken (a little violin) was taken from
the lumbering shelf and newly strung and the daily lessons immediately
commenced.... I do not recollect that he ever desired any other society
than what he had opportunities of enjoying in many of the parties where
he was introduced by his profession; though far from being of a morose
disposition; he would frequently encourage my mother in keeping up a
social intercourse among a few acquaintances, whilst his afternoon hours
generally were taken up in giving lessons to some scholars at home, who
gladly saved him the troublesome exertion of walking.... He also found
great pleasure in seeing Dietrich’s improvement, who, young as he was,
and of the most lively temper imaginable, was always ready to receive
his lessons, leaving his little companions (with whom our neighbourhood
abounded) with the greatest cheerfulness to go to his father, who was so
pleased with his performances that—I think it must have been in October
or November—he made him play a solo on the Adempken in Rake’s concert,
being placed on a table before a crowded company, for which he was very
much applauded and caressed, particularly by an English lady, who put a
gold coin in his little pocket.
“It was not long before my father had as many scholars as he could find
time to attend, for some of those he had left behind returned to him
again, and several families who had sons of about the age of my little
brother, became his pupils and proved in time very good performers. And
when they assembled at my father’s to make little concerts, I was
frequently called to join the second violin in an overture, for my
father found pleasure in giving me sometimes a lesson before the
instruments were laid by after practising with Dietrich, for I never was
missing at those hours, sitting in a corner with my knitting and
listening all the while.”
A serious interruption of this and all other occupations was caused by a
severe attack of typhus fever which in the summer of 1761 threatened to
be fatal, and
“reduced my strength to that degree that for several months after I was
obliged to mount the stairs on my hands and feet like an infant; but
here I will remark that from that time to this present day (June 5,
1821) I do not remember ever to have spent a whole day in bed.”
In spite of her strong objections to learning, the worthy mother had too
correct a view of her duties to stand in the way of the necessary
preparation for her daughter’s confirmation, who was accordingly, but
not without complaints at the loss of time, released from her household
avocations for this purpose. Alexander, who had been taken as a sort of
apprentice by Griesbach, was now of an age to turn his great musical
talents to profitable account, and returned to Hanover, where he
obtained the somewhat mysterious situation of Stadtmusicus (Town
Musician), the duties of which office involved
“little else to do but to give a daily lesson to an apprentice and to
blow a Corale from the Markt Thurm; so that nearly all his time could be
given to practice and receiving instruction from his father. There was
no doubt but that he would soon become a good violin player, for his
natural genius was such that nothing could spoil it.”
[Sidenote: 1761-1764. _Early Recollections._]
Although the absent brother William kept up regular correspondence with
Hanover, many of his letters were written in English and addressed to
Jacob, on such subjects as the Theory of Music, in which the family in
general could not participate. Year after year went by, and William
showed no inclination to leave England, to which country he was becoming
more and more attached; the poor father, who felt his strength steadily
declining, became painfully eager for his return. On the 2nd April,
1764, they were thrown into “a tumult of joy” by his appearance among
them. The visit was a very brief one, offering no hope of any intention
to settle in Hanover; the father was well aware that he at least could
not look forward to another meeting on earth, while to the poor little
unnoticed girl, this visit and its attendant circumstances stood out in
her memory as fraught with anguish, which even her unskilled pen
succeeds in representing as a grief almost too deep for words.
“Of the joys and pleasures which all felt at this long-wished-for
meeting with my—let me say my _dearest_ brother, but a small portion
could fall to my share; for with my constant attendance at church and
school, besides the time I was employed in doing the drudgery of the
scullery, it was but seldom I could make one in the group when the
family were assembled together.
“In the first week some of the orchestra were invited to a concert, at
which some of my brother William’s compositions, overtures, &c., and
some of my eldest brother Jacob’s were performed, to the great delight
of my dear father, who hoped and expected that they would be turned to
some profit by publishing them, but there was no printer who bid high
enough.
“Sunday the 8th was the—to me—eventful day of my confirmation, and I
left home not a little proud and encouraged by my dear brother William’s
approbation of my appearance in my new gown.”
Not only was she disappointed in her fervent hope that the longed-for
brother would not come at the very time when she was obliged to be much
from home, but several of the precious days of his stay were spent in a
visit to the Griesbachs at Coppenbrügge, and the Sunday fixed for his
departure was the very day on which she was to receive her first
communion.
[Sidenote: 1764-1767. _Early Recollections._]
“The church was crowded and the door open: the Hamburger Postwagen
passed at eleven, bearing away my dear brother, from whom I had been
obliged to part at 8 o’clock. It was within a dozen yards from the open
door; the postilion giving a smettering blast on his horn. Its effect on
my shattered nerves, I will not attempt to describe, nor what I felt for
days and weeks after. I wish it were possible to say what I wish to say,
without feeling anew that feverish wretchedness which accompanied my
walk in the afternoon with some of my school companions, in my black
silk dress and bouquet of artificial flowers—the same which had served
my sister on her bridal day. I could think of nothing but that on my
return I should find nobody but my disconsolate father and mother, for
Alexander’s engagements allowed him to be with us only at certain hours,
and Jacob was seldom at home except to dress and take his meals.”
From the state of hopeless lethargy in which the poor sister describes
herself as going mechanically about her daily tasks after that memorable
day, she was roused by a calamity which affected all alike. The father
had a paralytic seizure the August following, by which he lost the use
of his right side almost entirely, and although he so far recovered as
to be able still to receive pupils in his own house, he never regained
his former skill on the violin, and was reduced to a sad state of
suffering and infirmity; a few months later he was pronounced to be in a
confirmed dropsy. Changes of abode, not always for the better;
anxieties, on account of Alexander’s prospects and Jacob’s vagaries;
disappointment, at seeing his daughter grow up without the education he
had hoped to give her; were the circumstances under which the worn-out
sufferer struggled through the last three years of his life, copying
music at every spare moment, assisting at a Concert only a few weeks
before his death, and giving lessons until he was obliged to keep wholly
to his bed. He was released from his sufferings at the comparatively
early age of sixty-one on the 22nd March, 1767, leaving to his children
little more than the heritage of his good example, unblemished
character, and those musical talents which he had so carefully educated,
and by which he probably hoped the more gifted of his sons would attain
to eminence.
Miss Herschel describes herself as having fallen into “a kind of
stupefaction,” which lasted for many weeks after the loss of her father,
and the awakening to life had little of hope in the present or promise
for the future, so far as she could see then. At the age of seventeen
she had learned little beyond the first elements of education, and she
was now deprived of the one friend who encouraged and sympathised with
her desire for better instruction. The parents had never agreed on the
subject. “When I had left school,” she writes,
[Sidenote: 1767. _Early Recollections._]
“My father wished to give me something like a polished education, but my
mother was particularly determined that it should be a rough, but at the
same time a useful one; and nothing farther she thought was necessary
but to send me two or three months to a sempstress to be taught to make
household linen. Having added this accomplishment to my former
ingenuities, I never afterwards could find leisure for thinking of
anything but to contrive and make for the family in all imaginable forms
whatever was wanting, and thus I learned to make bags and sword-knots
long before I knew how to make caps and furbelows.... My mother would
not consent to my being taught French, and my brother Dietrich was even
denied a dancing-master, because she would not permit my learning along
with him, though the entrance had been paid for us both; so all my
father could do for me was to indulge me (and please himself) sometimes
with a short lesson on the violin, when my mother was either in good
humour or out of the way. Though I have often felt myself exceedingly at
a loss for the want of those few accomplishments of which I was thus, by
an erroneous though well-meant opinion of my mother, deprived, I could
not help thinking but that she had cause for wishing me not to know more
than was necessary for being useful in the family; for it was her
certain belief that my brother William would have returned to his
country, and my eldest brother not have looked so high, if they had had
a little less learning.
* * * * *
But sometimes I found it scarcely possible to get through with the work
required, and felt very unhappy that no time at all was left for
improving myself in music or fancy-work, in which I had an opportunity
of receiving some instruction from an ingenious young woman whose
parents lived in the same house with us. But the time wanted for
spending a few hours together could only be obtained by our meeting at
daybreak, because by the time of the family’s rising at seven, I was
obliged to be at my daily business. But during the summer months of 1766
very few mornings passed without our spending a few hours together, to
which I was called by my friend’s loud cough at her window by way of
notice that she was ready for me [she could not sleep, and was glad of
my company. I lost her soon after, for she died of consumption]. Though
I had neither time nor means for producing anything immediately either
for show or use, I was content with keeping samples of all possible
patterns in needlework, beads, bugles, horsehair, &c., for I could not
help feeling troubled sometimes about my future destiny; yet I could not
bear the idea of being turned into an Abigail or housemaid, and thought
that with the above and such like acquirements with a little notion of
Music, I might obtain a place as governess in some family where the want
of a knowledge of French would be no objection.”
It was with the same object of fitting herself to earn her bread, that,
after her father’s death, she obtained permission to go for a month or
two to learn millinery and dress-making; her eldest brother Jacob,
before leaving them to join William at Bath, having graciously given his
consent, “if it was only meant to learn to make my own things, but
positively forbidding it for any other purpose.” The following account
of this episode shows how customary such apprenticeship was among young
ladies of good family, as a part of their education:—
[Sidenote: 1768. _Early Recollections._]
“My mother found some difficulty in persuading the lady to whom I wished
to go, to receive me without paying the usual premium, but at last she
gave me leave to come on paying one thaler per month. I felt myself
rather humbled on going the first time among twenty-one young people
with an elegant woman, Madame Küster, at their head, directing them in
various works of finery. Among the group were several young ladies of
genteel families, and as I came there on rather reduced terms, I
expected that I should be kept in the back ground, doing nothing but the
plain work of the business; but contrary to my fears, I gained in the
school-mistress a valuable friend.... Here I found myself daily happy
for a few hours, and one of the young women,[3] after a lapse of
thirty-five years, when I was introduced to her at the Queen’s Lodge,
received me as an old acquaintance, though I could but just remember
having sometimes exchanged a nod and smile with a sweet little girl
about ten or eleven years old. But I soon was sensible of having found
what hitherto I had looked for in vain—a sincere and disinterested
friend to whom I might have applied for counsel and comfort in my
deserted situation.”
A proposal from Jacob that Dietrich, whom the father on his deathbed had
specially commended to his care, should be sent to England, caused his
mother the utmost distress, on account of his being still too young to
be confirmed; but her scruples were overcome and Dietrich was despatched
in the summer as soon as a fitting escort could be found.
“But what was yet more aggravating was, that the loss of his company was
supplied by a country cousin whom my mother permitted to spend the
summer with us in order to have the advantage of my mother’s advice in
making preparation for her marriage.... This young woman, full of
good-nature and ignorance, grew unfortunately so fond of me that she was
for ever at my side, and by that means I lost what little interval of
leisure I might then have had for reading, practising the violin, &c.,
entirely. Besides this, I was extremely discomposed at seeing Alexander
associating with young men who led him into all manner of expensive
pleasures which involved him in debts for the hire of horses and
carioles, &c., and I was (though he knew my inability of helping him)
made a partaker in his fears that these scrapes should come to the
knowledge of our mother.
“My time was, however, filled up pretty well with making household
linen, &c., against Jacob’s return.... It was not, however, till the
middle of the following summer that we saw him again, and I suppose his
stay must have been prolonged on account of waiting till he had had the
honour of playing before their Majesties, for which (in consequence of
having composed and dedicated a set of six sonatas to the Queen) he was
informed he would receive a summons.... After this his salary was
augmented by 100 thalers,” and the promise of not being overlooked in
future.
[Note.—Before I leave this subject I cannot help remembering the
sacrifices these good people were making to pride. They played nowhere
for money, for even when in 1768 (I think it was) the King’s theatre was
first opened _to the Public_, and the Court orchestra was called upon to
play there, they did it without any emolument, so that there was no way
left to increase their small salaries but by giving a few subscription
concerts in the winter, or by teaching. So much, by way of apology, for
the emigration of part of my family to England.]
[Sidenote: 1768-1770. _Early Recollections._]
“We passed the winter in the utmost quiet, except when Alexander took it
into his head to entertain gentlemen in his own apartment, which always
made my mother very cross, else in general nothing disturbed us in our
occupation. My mother spun, I was at work on a set of ruffles of
Dresden-work for my brother Jacob, whilst Alexander often sat by us and
amused us and himself with making all sorts of things in pasteboard, or
contriving how to make a twelve-hour Cuckoo clock go a week.... As my
mother saw that Dietrich’s confirmation was still uncertain, she
insisted on having him back again.... Accordingly at the end of July
they [Jacob and Dietrich] arrived, and Dietrich entered school again
immediately,” but remained only until his confirmation the following
Easter.
A new direction was suddenly given to all their plans by the arrival of
letters from the absent brother William, who proposed that his sister
should join him at Bath—
... “to make the trial if by his instruction I might not become a useful
singer for his winter concerts and oratorios, he advised my brother
Jacob to give me some lessons by way of beginning; but that if after a
trial of two years we should not find it answer our expectation he would
bring me back again. This at first seemed to be agreeable to all
parties, but by the time I had set my heart upon this change in my
situation, Jacob began to turn the whole scheme into ridicule, and, of
course, he never heard the sound of my voice except in speaking, and yet
I was left in the harassing uncertainty whether I was to go or not. I
resolved at last to prepare, as far as lay in my power, for both cases,
by taking, in the first place, every opportunity when all were from home
to imitate, with a gag between my teeth, the solo parts of concertos,
_shake and all_, such as I had heard them play on the violin; in
consequence I had gained a tolerable execution before I knew how to
sing. I next began to knit ruffles, which were intended for my brother
William in case I remained at home—else they were to be Jacob’s. For my
mother and brother D. I knitted as many cotton stockings as would last
two years at least.”
Jacob remained with his family until the following July, when he
returned to Bath, this time taking Alexander with him for two years’
leave of absence, the young Dietrich being deemed competent not only to
supply his place in the orchestra, but also to attend his private
pupils.
[Sidenote: 1772. _Early Recollections._]
Nothing is recorded in the interval between Jacob’s return to Hanover in
the autumn and the long expected arrival of William in April, 1772,
except one of the changes of abode, which were of such frequent
occurrence, involving abundance of employment in making and altering
articles of household use, which afforded some relief to the
conscientious daughter, who was sorely troubled by uncertainty as to her
duty in the matter of going to England or staying with her mother,
although the latter had given her consent to the change.
“In this manner” [making prospective clothes for them] “I tried to still
the compunction I felt at leaving relatives who, I feared, would lose
some of their comforts by my desertion, and nothing but the belief of
returning to them full of knowledge and accomplishments could have
supported me in the parting moment, which was much embittered by the
absence of my brother Jacob, who was with the Court which attended on
the Queen of Denmark at the _Görde_, where my brother Dietrich had also
been for some time, and but just returned when my brother William, for
whose safety we had for several weeks been under no small apprehension,
at last quite unexpectedly arrived.... His stay at Hanover could at the
utmost not be prolonged above a fortnight.... My mother had consented to
my going with him, and the anguish at my leaving her was somewhat
alleviated by my brother settling a small annuity on her, by which she
would be enabled to keep an attendant to supply my place.” They all went
over to Coppenbrügge “to see my sister—I to take leave of her; the
remaining time was wasted in an unsatisfactory correspondence: the
letters from my brother Jacob expressed nothing but regret and
impatience at being thus disappointed, and, without being able to effect
a meeting, I was obliged to go without receiving the consent of my
eldest brother to my going....
* * * * *
“But I will not attempt to describe my feelings when the parting moment
arrived, and I left my dear mother and most dear Dietrich on Sunday,
August 16th, 1772, at the Posthouse, and after travelling for six days
and nights on an open (in those days very inconvenient) Postwagen, we
were on the following Saturday conveyed in a small open vessel from the
quay at Helvotsluis on a stormy sea, to the packet boat, which lay two
miles distant at anchor; from which we were again obliged to go in an
open boat to be set ashore, or rather thrown like balls by two English
sailors, on the coast of Yarmouth.[4] For the vessel was almost a wreck,
without a main and another of its masts.
“After having crawled to one of a row of neat low houses, we found the
party previously arrived from the ship devouring their breakfast;
several clean-dressed women employed in cutting bread and butter (from
fine wheaten loaves) as fast as ever they could. One of them went
upstairs with me to help me to put on my clothes, and after taking some
tea we mounted some sort of a cart to bring us to the next place where
diligences going to London would pass. But we had hardly gone a quarter
of an English mile when the horse, which was not used to go in what they
called the shafts, ran away with us, overturning the cart with trunk and
passengers. My brother, another person, and myself all throwing
themselves out, I flying into a dry ditch. We all came off however, with
only the fright, owing to the assistance of a gentleman who, with his
servant, was accompanying us on horseback. These persons had come in the
packet with us, and it was settled not to part till in London, where we
arrived at noon on the 26th at an inn in the City. Here we remained till
the evening of the 27th. My brother having business at the West-end of
the town, left me under the care of our fellow travellers; but after his
return, in the evening when the shops were lighted up, we went to see
all that was to be seen in that part of London, of which I only remember
the opticians’ shops, for I do not think we stopped at any other.
“The next day the mistress of the inn lent me a hat of her
daughter’s—mine was blown into one of the canals of Holland, for we had
storms by land as well as at sea—and we went to see St. Paul’s, the
Bank, &c., &c. Mem: only the outside, except of St. Paul’s and the Bank,
and we were never off our legs, except at meals in our inn. Towards
evening we went to the West of the town, where, after having called on
Despatch Secretary Wiese and his lady (Mr. Wiese conducted our
correspondence with Hanover) we went to the inn, from whence we at ten
o’clock in the evening started by the night coach for Bath on the 28th
of August.... After taking some tea I went immediately to bed, and I did
not awake till the next day in the afternoon, when I found my brother
had but just left his room. I for my part was, from the privation of
sleep for eleven or twelve days (not having above twice been in what
they called a bed) almost annihilated.”
---------------------
END OF RECOLLECTIONS, VOL. I.
The only allusion to this journey in Sir W. Herschel’s Journal is the
brief entry:—“August 16, 1772. Set off on my return to England in
company with my sister.”
[Illustration:
SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL’S FORTY-FOOT TELESCOPE AT SLOUGH.
[_To face page 29._]