In the quiet city of Hanover, nearly a century and a half ago, lived a
professor of music, by name Isaac Herschel, a Protestant in religion,
though presumably of Jewish descent. He had been left an orphan at the
early age of eleven, and his friends wished him to adopt the vocation of
a landscape-gardener; but being passionately fond of music, and having
acquired some skill on the violin, he left Dresden, his birthplace, in
order to seek his fortune; wandering from place to place, until at
Hanover, in 1731, he obtained an engagement in the band of the Guards.
Soon afterwards he married; and by his wife, Anna Ilse Moritzen, had ten
children, four of whom died in infancy. Of the others, two--a brother
and a sister--lived to distinguish themselves by their intellectual
power; and all true lovers of science will regard with reverence the
memories of William and Caroline Herschel.
Frederick William Herschel was born on the 15th of November 1738. Like
his father, he displayed an innate musical ability, which was sedulously
cultivated and constantly developed; while his general mental training
was left to the care of the master of the garrison-school. Those who are
gifted with a love and a capacity for music sometimes show to little
advantage in other pursuits; but such was not the case with William
Herschel, who progressed so rapidly in all his studies that the pupil
soon outstripped the teacher. Although, we are told, four years younger
than his brother Jacob, the two began French together, and William
mastered the language in half the time occupied by his senior. His
leisure time out of school, when not given up to practice on the oboe
and the violin, was devoted to the acquisition, of Latin and arithmetic.
His father in 1743 was present at the battle of Dettingen; and the
exposure consequent on a night spent on the rain-soaked battle-field
afflicted him with an asthmatic complaint and a partial paralysis of
the limbs, which darkened for years the musician's peaceful household.
He himself, however, was greatly cheered by the musical proficiency of
his two sons, and the intellectual refinement of Frederick William. "My
brothers," says Caroline Herschel, "were often introduced as solo
performers and assistants in the orchestra of the court; and I remember
that I was frequently prevented"--she was then a child about five years
old--"from going to sleep by the lively criticism on music on [their]
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." She adds that she often kept herself awake in order to
listen to their animating remarks, feeling inexpressibly happy in
_their_ happiness,--an indication of that devoted and unselfish
affection which afterwards consecrated her whole life. But, generally,
their conversation branched out into philosophical subjects; and
father and son argued with so much fervour, that the fond mother's
interference became necessary,--the immortal names of Leibnitz, Newton,
and Euler ringing with a clarion-like peal that boded ill for the repose
of the younger members of the family. "But it seems," says Caroline,
"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 a reply,
he found his hearer had 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," she continues,
"was a great admirer of astronomy, and had some knowledge of that
science; for I remember him 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 four-inch globe,
upon which the equator and ecliptic were engraved by my brother."
* * * * *
In 1755, the tranquil family circle was broken up--the Hanoverian
regiment in whose band William and Jacob were engaged having been
ordered to England. The parting was very sorrowful; for the invalid
father had derived much support as well as enjoyment from the company of
his sons. At first, the English experiences of the young Germans were
somewhat severe. They endured all the pangs of poverty; pangs endured
with heroic composure, while William relaxed not a whit in his devotion
to the pursuit of knowledge. Happily, however, his musical proficiency
attracted the attention of Lord Durham, who offered him the appointment
of bandmaster to a militia regiment stationed in the north of England.
In this position he gradually formed a connection among the wealthier
families of Leeds, Pontefract, and Doncaster, where he taught music,
and conducted the public concerts and oratorios with equal zeal and
success. In 1764 he paid a brief but happy visit to his family, much to
the joy of his faithful sister, Caroline. Returning to England, for
which country he cherished a strong affection, he resumed his career of
patient industry, and in 1765 was appointed organist at Halifax. He was
now in receipt of an income which secured him due domestic comforts, and
enabled him to remedy the defects of his early education. With the help
of a grammar and a dictionary he mastered Italian. He also studied
mathematics and the scientific theory of music, losing no opportunity of
adding to his stores of knowledge.
In 1766 he obtained the lucrative post of organist to the Octagon Chapel
at Bath. Increased emoluments, however, brought with them increased
obligations. He was required to play almost incessantly, either at the
oratorios or in the rooms at the Baths, at the theatre, and in the
public concerts. When his sister Caroline joined him, in 1772, she found
him immersed in his various labours. For the choir of the Octagon
Chapel he composed anthems, chants, and complete morning and evening
services. A part of every day was occupied in giving lessons to his
numerous pupils. In truth, he was one of the busiest men in England;
yet in all his arrangements he was so methodical that he found time for
everything--and time, more particularly, for the studies in which his
soul delighted. His life furnishes an admirable example of what may
be accomplished by a man with a firm will and a strong purpose, who
sets before himself an end to be attained, and controls all his efforts
towards its attainment. He toiled so hard as a musician, because he
wanted to be something more. Every spare moment of the day, and
frequently many hours of the night, he gave up to the pursuits which
were gradually leading him into the path best fitted for his genius.
The study of mathematics proved but a preliminary to the study of
optics; and an accident made him once for all an astronomer.
A common two-foot telescope falling into his hands, revealed to him
the wonders of the heavens. His imagination was inspired by their
contemplation; with ever-increasing enthusiasm he gazed on the revolving
planets, on the flashing stars; he determined to fathom more profoundly
the constellated depths. A larger instrument was necessary, and Herschel
wrote to London for it; but the price demanded proved far beyond the
resources of the sanguine organist. What should he do? He was not the
man to be beaten back by a difficulty: as he could not buy a telescope,
he resolved to make one; an instrument eighteen or twenty feet long,
which would reveal to him the phases of the remotest planets. And
straightway the musician entered on a multitude of ingenious
experiments, so as to discover the particular metallic alloys that
reflected light with the greatest intensity, the best means of giving
the parabolic figure to the mirrors, the necessary degree of polish, and
other practical details. In his eager pursuit he enlisted the services
of his loving and intelligent sister. "I was much hindered in my musical
practice," she writes, "by my help being continually wanted in the
execution of the various contrivances; and I had to amuse myself by
making the tube of pasteboard for the glasses which were to arrive from
London--for at that time no optician had settled at Bath. But when all
was finished, no one besides my brother could get a glimpse of Jupiter
or Saturn, for the great length of the tube would not allow it to be
kept in a straight line. This difficulty, however, was soon removed, by
substituting tin tubes."
The work went on famously, as might be expected from so much ardour,
perseverance, and ingenuity. Of a Quaker resident at Bath, the
musician-astronomer purchased a quantity of patterns, tools, hones,
polishers, and unfinished mirrors. Every room in the house was converted
into a workshop. In a handsomely-furnished drawing-room might be seen
a cabinetmaker constructing a tube and stands of all descriptions;
while Herschel's brother Alex was engaged in a bedroom in putting up a
gigantic turning-machine. Meantime, the claims of music could not be
ignored: there were frequent rehearsals for the public concerts; lessons
to pupils; the composition of glees and catches, and the like; the
superintendence of the practice of the chapel choir; and the study of
sonatas and concertos for public performance. But all the leisure that
could be made or stolen was occupied in labours which proved their own
reward. Straight from the concert-platform rushed the musician to his
workshop, and many a lace ruffle was torn by nails or bespattered by
molten pitch; to say nothing of the positive danger to which Herschel
continually exposed himself by the precipitancy of his movements. For
example: one Saturday evening, when the two brothers returned from a
concert between eleven and twelve o'clock, William amused himself all
the way home with the idea of being at liberty to spend the next day,
except the few hours' duty at chapel, at the turning-bench; but
recollecting that the tools wanted sharpening, they ran with them
and a lantern to their landlord's grindstone in a public yard, where,
very naturally, they did not wish to be seen on a Sunday morning. But
William was soon brought back by his brother, almost swooning with the
loss of one of his finger-nails.
This incident took place in the winter of 1775, at a house situated
near Walcot turnpike, to which Herschel had removed in the summer of the
previous year. Here, on a grass plot behind the house, he made active
preparations for the erection of a twenty-foot telescope. So assiduous
was his devotion to this work, that while he was engaged in polishing
the mirror, his sister was constantly obliged to feed him by putting his
victuals into his mouth. Otherwise he would have reduced himself to a
condition of positive emaciation! Once, when finishing a seven-foot
mirror, he did not take his hands from it for sixteen consecutive hours;
for in these days machinery had not been devised as a substitute for
manual toil. He was seldom unemployed at meals; but at such times
employed himself in contriving or making drawings of whatever occurred
to his fertile fancy. Usually his sister Caroline read to him while he
was engaged at the turning-lathe, or polishing mirrors; choosing such
books as "Don Quixote," the "Arabian Nights," the novels of Sterne and
Fielding; and tea and supper were served without any interruption to the
task in which Herschel was absorbed.
In Miss Herschel's charming letters we find a vivid sketch of the
family avocations at this period:---
"My brother applied himself to perfect his mirrors, erecting in
his garden a stand for his twenty-foot telescope: many trials
were necessary before the required motions for such an unwieldy
machine could be contrived. Many attempts were made by way of
experiment against a mirror before an intended thirty-foot
telescope could be completed, for which, between whiles (not
interrupting the observations with seven, ten, and twenty-foot,
and writing papers for both the Royal and Bath Philosophical
Societies), gauges, shapes, weights, &c, of the mirror were
calculated, and trials of the composition of the metal were
made. In short, I saw nothing else and heard nothing else
talked of but about these things when my brothers were
together. Alex was always very alert, assisting when anything
new was going forward; but he wanted perseverance, and never
liked to confine himself at home for many hours together. And
so it happened that my brother William was obliged to make
trial of my abilities in copying for him catalogues, tables,
&c, and sometimes whole papers which were lent [to] him for his
perusal. Among them was one by Mr. Michel, and a catalogue of
Christian Mayer in Latin, which kept me employed when my
brother was at the telescope at night. When I found that a hand
was sometimes wanted when any particular measures were to be
made with the lamp micrometer, or a fire to be kept up, or a
dish of coffee necessary during a night's long watching, I
undertook with pleasure what others might have thought a
hardship."
The astronomer-musician's patient survey of the heavens was rewarded,
on the 13th of March 1781, by the discovery of a new planet, situated
on the borders of our Solar System. In every way this was a discovery
of signal importance. It broke up the traditional conservatism of
astronomers, which had almost refused to regard as possible the
existence of any planets beyond the orbit of Saturn, because for so
many years none had revealed themselves to the watchful gaze. Men's
minds were widened, so to speak, at a bound; their conceptions
strengthened and enlarged; for the discovery of Georgium Sidus--as
the new planet was designated by its discoverer, in honour of George
III.--rendered possible and probable the discovery of other planets,
and thus extended immeasurably the limits of the Solar System. Herschel,
whose reputation as a musician had hitherto been local, now sprang into
world-wide fame as an astronomer. George III., who was a true lover of
science, and not disinclined to bestow his patronage on men and things
of Hanoverian origin, summoned him to his presence; and was so much
pleased with his modest and interesting account of the long labours
which had led to the great result, that, after a brief interval, he
bestowed upon him an annual pension of three hundred guineas, and a
residence, first at Clay Hall, and then at Slough.
But before this well-deserved good fortune fell to him, Herschel
continued his industrious career as both musician and astronomer. During
the concert season, which lasted five or six months, he had never a
night disengaged, but was conducting oratorios at Bath or Bristol,
arranging for public concerts, attending rehearsals, and superintending
the performances of his choir. As soon as a lull came, the indomitable
man, assisted by his faithful sister, returned to his astronomical
pursuits. To gain a fuller and clearer knowledge of the starry worlds
scattered over the vast fields of space, Herschel from the first had
seen that instruments of much greater power were necessary than any
hitherto used by astronomers. He set to work, therefore, on the
construction of a thirty-foot telescope; the metallic mirror of which
must, of course, be of proportionate dimensions. This huge mirror was to
be cast in a mould of loam prepared from horse-dung, of which an
immense quantity was to be pounded in a mortar, and sifted through a
fine sieve; an arduous and almost endless task, undertaken by Caroline
Herschel and her brother Alex. Then a furnace was erected in a back-room
on the ground-floor; and every preparation having been made, a day was
set apart for the casting. The day came, and Herschel and his
collaborateurs looked forward to the consummation of their hopes. The
metal was placed in the furnace; but, unfortunately, just when it was
ready for pouring in a molten stream into the mould, it began to leak,
and both the Herschels, and the caster with his men, were compelled to
fly from the apartment, the stone flooring exploding, and flying about
in all directions, as high as the ceiling. The astronomer, exhausted
with heat and exertion, fell on a heap of brickbats; exhausted, but not
dismayed. The work was renewed; and a second casting being attempted, it
proved entirely successful, and a very perfect metal was formed in the
mould.