In August, 1861, while I was passing my vacation on Cape Ann,
I received a letter from Dr. Gould, then in Washington, informing
me that a vacancy was to be filled in the corps of professors of
mathematics attached to the Naval Observatory, and suggesting that
I might like the place. I was at first indisposed to consider
the proposition. Cambridge was to me the focus of the science
and learning of our country. I feared that, so far as the world
of learning was concerned, I should be burying myself by moving
to Washington. The drudgery of night work at the observatory would
also interfere with carrying on any regular investigation. But, on
second thought, having nothing in view at the time, and the position
being one from which I could escape should it prove uncongenial,
I decided to try, and indited the following letter:--
Nautical Almanac Office,
Cambridge, Mass., August 22, 1861.
Sir,--I have the honor to apply to you for my appointment
to the office of Professor of Mathematics in the United
States Navy. I would respectfully refer you to Commander
Charles Henry Davis, U. S. N., Professor Benjamin Peirce,
of Harvard University, Dr. Benjamin A. Gould, of Cambridge,
and Professor Joseph Henry, Secretary of the Smithsonian
Institution, for any information respecting me which will
enable you to judge of the propriety of my appointment.
With high respect,
Your obedient servant,
Simon Newcomb,
Assistant, Nautical Almanac.
Hon. Gideon Welles,
Secretary of the Navy,
Washington, D. C.
I also wrote to Captain Davis, who was then on duty in the Navy
Department, telling him what I had done, but made no further effort.
Great was my surprise when, a month later, I found in the post-office,
without the slightest premonition, a very large official envelope,
containing my commission duly signed by Abraham Lincoln, President
of the United States. The confidence in the valor, abilities, etc.,
of the appointee, expressed in the commission, was very assuring.
Accompanying it was a letter from the Secretary of the Navy
directing me to report to the Bureau of Ordnance and Hydrography,
in Washington, for such duty as it might assign me. I arrived on
October 6, and immediately called on Professor J. S. Hubbard, who was
the leading astronomer of the observatory. On the day following I
reported as directed, and was sent to Captain Gilliss, the recently
appointed Superintendent of the Naval Observatory, before whom I
stood with much trepidation. In reply to his questions I had to
confess my entire inexperience in observatory work or the making
of astronomical observations. A coast survey observer had once
let me look through his transit instrument and try to observe the
passage of a star. On the eclipse expedition mentioned in the last
chapter I had used a sextant. This was about all the experience
in practical astronomy which I could claim. In fact I had never
been inside of an observatory, except on two or three occasions at
Cambridge as a visitor. The captain reassured me by saying that
no great experience was expected of a newcomer, and told me that I
should go to work on the transit instrument under Professor Yarnall,
to whose care I was then confided.
As the existence of a corps of professors of mathematics is peculiar
to our navy, as well as an apparent, perhaps a real, anomaly,
some account of it may be of interest. Early in the century--one
hardly knows when the practice began--the Secretary of the Navy,
in virtue of his general powers, used to appoint men as professors
of mathematics in the navy, to go to sea and teach the midshipmen
the art of navigation. In 1844, when work at the observatory was
about to begin, no provision for astronomers was made by Congress.
The most convenient way of supplying this want was to have the
Secretary appoint professors of mathematics, and send them to the
observatory on duty.
A few years later the Naval Academy was founded at Annapolis, and a
similar course was pursued to provide it with a corps of instructors.
Up to this time the professors had no form of appointment except
a warrant from the Secretary of the Navy. Early in the history of
the academy the midshipmen burned a professor in effigy. They were
brought before a court-martial on the charge of disrespect to a
superior officer, but pleaded that the professor, not holding a
commission, was not their superior officer, and on this plea were
acquitted. Congress thereupon took the matter up, provided that
the number of professors should not exceed twelve, and that they
should be commissioned by the President by and with the advice
and consent of the Senate. This raised their rank to that of a
commissioned corps in the navy. They were to perform such duty as
the Secretary of the Navy might direct, and were, for the most part,
divided between the Naval Academy and the Observatory.
During the civil war some complaint was made that the midshipmen
coming from the academy were not well trained in the duties of a
seagoing officer; and it was supposed that this was due to too much
of their time being given to scientific studies. This was attributed
to the professors, with the result that nearly all those attached to
the academy were detached during the four years following the close
of the civil war and ordered elsewhere, mostly to the observatory.
Their places were taken by line officers who, in the intervals between
their turns of sea duty, were made heads of departments and teachers
of the midshipmen in nearly every branch.
This state of things led to the enactment of a law (in 1869, I think),
"that hereafter no vacancy in the grade of professors of mathematics
in the navy shall be filled."
In 1873 this provision was annulled by a law, again providing
for a corps of twelve professors, three of whom should have the
relative rank of captain, four of commander, and the remainder of
lieutenant-commander or lieutenant.
Up to 1878 the Secretary of the Navy was placed under no restrictions
as to his choice of a professor. He could appoint any citizen whom
he supposed to possess the necessary qualifications. Then it was
enacted that, before appointment, a candidate should pass a medical
and a professional examination.
I have said that the main cause of hesitation in making my
application arose from my aversion to very late night work. It soon
became evident that there was less ground than I had supposed for
apprehension on this point. There was a free and easy way of carrying
on work which was surprising to one who had supposed it all arranged
on strict plans, and done according to rule and discipline. Professor
Yarnall, whose assistant I was, was an extremely pleasant gentleman
to be associated with. Although one of the most industrious workers
at the observatory, there was nothing of the martinet about him.
He showed me how to handle the instrument and record my observations.
There was a Nautical Almanac and a Catalogue of Stars. Out of these
each of us could select what he thought best to observe.
The custom was that one of us should come on every clear evening,
make observations as long as he chose, and then go home. The transit
instrument was at one end of the building and the mural circle, in
charge of Professor Hubbard, at the other. He was weak in health,
and unable to do much continuous work of any kind, especially the
hard work of observing. He and I arranged to observe on the same
nights; but I soon found that there was no concerted plan between
the two sets of observers. The instruments were old-fashioned
ones, of which mine could determine only the right ascension of a
star and his only its declination; hence to completely determine
the position of a celestial body, observations must be made on the
same object with both instruments. But I soon found that there was
no concert of action of this kind. Hubbard, on the mural circle,
had his plan of work; Yarnall and myself, on the transit, had ours.
When either Hubbard or myself got tired, we could "vote it cloudy"
and go out for a plate of oysters at a neighboring restaurant.
In justice to Captain Gilliss it must be said that he was not in
any way responsible for this lack of system. It grew out of the
origin and history of the establishment and the inaction of Congress.
The desirableness of our having a national observatory of the same
rank as those of other countries was pointed out from time to time by
eminent statesmen from the first quarter of the century. John Quincy
Adams had, both while he filled the presidential office and afterward,
made active efforts in this direction; but there were grave doubts
whether Congress had any constitutional authority to erect such an
institution, and the project got mixed up with parties and politics.
So strong was the feeling on the subject that, when the Coast Survey
was organized, it was expressly provided that it should not establish
an astronomical observatory.
The outcome of the matter was that, in 1842, when Congress at length
decided that we should have our national observatory, it was not
called such, but was designated as a "house" to serve as a depot
for charts and instruments for the navy. But every one knew that
an observatory was meant. Gilliss was charged with its erection,
and paid a visit to Europe to consult with astronomers there on
its design, and to order the necessary instruments. When he got
through with this work and reported it as completed he was relieved,
and Lieutenant Matthew F. Maury was appointed superintendent of the
new institution.
Maury, although (as he wrote a few years later) quite without
experience in the use of astronomical instruments, went at his work
with great energy and efficiency, so that, for two or three years,
the institution bade fair to take a high place in science. Then he
branched off into what was, from a practical standpoint, the vastly
more important work of studying the winds and currents of the ocean.
The epoch-making character of his investigations in this line,
and their importance to navigation when ships depended on sails for
their motive power, were soon acknowledged by all maritime nations,
and the fame which he acquired in pursuing them added greatly to
the standing of the institution at which the work was done, though
in reality an astronomical outfit was in no way necessary to it.
The new work was so absorbing that he seemed to have lost interest
in the astronomical side of the establishment, which he left to his
assistants. The results were that on this side things fell into the
condition I have described, and stayed there until Maury resigned his
commission and cast his fortunes with the Confederacy. Then Gilliss
took charge and had to see what could be done under the circumstances.
It soon became evident to him that no system of work of the first
order of importance could be initiated until the instrumental
equipment was greatly improved. The clocks, perfection in
which is almost at the bottom of good work, were quite unfit
for use. The astronomical clock with which Yarnall and I made
our observations kept worse time than a high-class pocket watch
does to-day. The instruments were antiquated and defective in
several particulars. Before real work could be commenced new ones
must be procured. But the civil war was in progress, and the times
were not favorable to immediately securing them. That the work of
the observatory was kept up was due to a feeling of pride on the
part of our authorities in continuing it without interruption through
the conflict. The personnel was as insufficient as the instruments.
On it devolved not only the making of the astronomical observations,
but the issue of charts and chronometers to the temporarily immense
navy. In fact the observatory was still a depot of charts for the
naval service, and continued to be such until the Hydrographic Office
was established in 1866.
In 1863 Gilliss obtained authority to have the most pressing wants
supplied by the construction of a great transit circle by Pistor and
Martins in Berlin. He had a comprehensive plan of work with this
instrument when it should arrive, but deferred putting any such plan
in operation until its actual reception.
Somehow the work of editing, explaining, and preparing for the
press the new series of observations made by Yarnall and myself with
our old transit instrument devolved on me. To do this in the most
satisfactory way, it was necessary to make a careful study of the
methods and system at the leading observatories of other countries
in the line we were pursuing, especially Greenwich. Here I was
struck by the superiority of their system to ours. Everything was
there done on an exact and uniform plan, and one which seemed to
me better adapted to get the best results than ours was. For the
non-astronomical reader it may be remarked that after an astronomer
has made and recorded his observations, a large amount of calculation
is necessary to obtain the result to which they lead. Making such
calculations is called "reducing" the observations. Now in the
previous history of the observatory, the astronomers fell into the
habit of every one not only making his observations in his own way,
but reducing them for himself. Thus it happened that Yarnall had
been making and reducing his observations in his own way, and I,
on alternate nights, had been making and reducing mine in my way,
which was modeled after the Greenwich fashion, and therefore quite
different from his. Now I suddenly found myself face to face with
the problem of putting these two heterogeneous things together so
as to make them look like a homogeneous whole. I was extremely
mortified to see how poor a showing would be made in the eyes of
foreign astronomers. But I could do nothing more than to describe
the work and methods in such a way as to keep in the background the
want of system that characterized them.
Notwithstanding all these drawbacks of the present, the prospect
of future success seemed brilliant. Gilliss had the unlimited
confidence of the Secretary of the Navy, had a family very popular
in Washington society, was enthusiastically devoted to building
up the work of the observatory, and was drawing around him the
best young men that could be found to do that work. He made it a
point that his relations with his scientific subordinates should
be not only official, but of the most friendly social character.
All were constantly invited to his charming family circle. It was
from the occasional talks thus arising that I learned the details
of his plan of work with the coming instrument.
In 1862 Gilliss had the working force increased by the appointment of
four "aides," as they were then called,--a number that was afterwards
reduced to three. This was the beginning of the corps of three
assistant astronomers, which is still maintained. It will be of
interest to know that the first aide was Asaph Hall; but before his
appointment was made, an impediment, which for a time looked serious,
had to be overcome. Gilliss desired that the aide should hold a
good social and family position. The salary being only $1000, this
required that he should not be married. Hall being married, with
a growing family, his appointment was long objected to, and it was
only through much persuasion on the part of Hubbard and myself that
Gilliss was at length induced to withdraw his objections. Among other
early appointees were William Harkness and John A. Eastman, whose
subsequent careers in connection with the observatory are well known.
The death of Professor Hubbard in 1863 led to my taking his place,
in charge of the mural circle, early in September of that year.
This gave me an opportunity of attempting a little improvement
in the arrangements. I soon became conscious of the fact, which
no one had previously taken much account of, that upon the plan of
each man reducing his own observations, not only was there an entire
lack of homogeneity in the work, but the more work one did at night
the more he had to do by day. It was with some trepidation that I
presented the case to Gilliss, who speedily saw that work done with
the instruments should be regarded as that of the observatory, and
reduced on a uniform plan, instead of being considered as the property
of the individual who happened to make it. Thus was introduced the
first step toward a proper official system.
In February, 1865, the observatory sustained the greatest loss
it had ever suffered, in the sudden death of its superintendent.
What it would have grown to had he lived it is useless to guess,
but there is little doubt that its history would have been quite
different from what it is.
Soon afterward Admiral Davis left his position as Chief of the
Bureau of Navigation to take the subordinate one of Superintendent
of the Observatory. This step was very gratifying to me, Davis had
not only a great interest in scientific work, especially astronomy,
but a genuine admiration of scientific men which I have never seen
exceeded, accompanied with a corresponding love of association with
them and their work.
In October, 1865, occurred what was, in my eyes, the greatest event
in the history of the observatory. The new transit circle arrived
from Berlin in its boxes. Now for the first time in its history, the
observatory would have a meridian instrument worthy of it, and would,
it was hoped, be able to do the finest work in at least one branch
of astronomy. To my great delight, Davis placed me in charge of it.
The last three months of the year were taken up with mounting it
in position and making those investigations of its peculiarities
which are necessary before an instrument of the kind is put into
regular use. On the 1st day of January, 1866, this was all done,
and we were ready to begin operations. An opportunity thus arose
of seeing what we could do in the way of a regular and well-planned
piece of work. In the greater clearness of our sky, and the more
southern latitude of our observatory, we had two great advantages
over Greenwich. Looking back at his first two or three years of
work at the observatory, Maury wrote to a friend, "We have beaten
Greenwich hollow." It may be that I felt like trying to do the
same thing over again. At any rate, I mapped out a plan of work
the execution of which would require four years.
It was a piece of what, in astronomy, is called "fundamental work,"
in which results are to be obtained independent of any previously
obtained by other observers. It had become evident to me from our
own observations, as well as from a study of those made at European
observatories, that an error in the right ascension of stars, so
that stars in opposite quarters of the heavens would not agree, might
very possibly have crept into nearly all the modern observations at
Greenwich, Paris, and Washington. The determination of this error
was no easy matter. It was necessary that, whenever possible,
observations should be continued through the greater part of the
twenty-four hours. One observer must be at work with comparative
steadiness from nine o'clock in the morning until midnight or even
dawn of the morning following. This requirement was, however, less
exacting than might appear when stated. One half the nights would,
as a general rule, be cloudy, and an observer was not expected to
work on Sunday. Hence no one of the four observers would probably
have to do such a day's work as this more than thirty or forty times
in a year.
All this was hard work enough in itself, but conditions existed which
made it yet harder. No houses were then provided for astronomers,
and the observatory itself was situated in one of the most unhealthy
parts of the city. On two sides it was bounded by the Potomac, then
pregnant with malaria, and on the other two, for nearly half a mile,
was found little but frame buildings filled with quartermaster's
stores, with here and there a few negro huts. Most of the observers
lived a mile or more from the observatory; during most of the time I
was two miles away. It was not considered safe to take even an hour's
sleep at the observatory. The result was that, if it happened to
clear off after a cloudy evening, I frequently arose from my bed
at any hour of the night or morning and walked two miles to the
observatory to make some observation included in the programme.
This was certainly a new departure from the free and easy way in which
we had been proceeding, and it was one which might be unwelcome to
any but a zealous astronomer. As I should get the lion's share of
credit for its results, whether I wanted to or not, my interest in the
work was natural. But it was unreasonable to expect my assistants,
one or two of whom had been raised to the rank of professor, to feel
the same interest, and it is very creditable to their zeal that we
pursued it for some time as well as we did. If there was any serious
dissatisfaction with the duty, I was not informed of that fact.
During the second year of this work Admiral Davis was detached and
ordered to sea. The question of a successor interested many besides
ourselves. Secretary Welles considered the question what policy
should be pursued in the appointment. Professor Henry took part in
the matter by writing the secretary a letter, in which he urged the
appointment of an astronomer as head of the institution. His position
prevented his supporting any particular candidate; so he submitted
a list of four names, any one of which would be satisfactory.
These were: Professor William Chauvenet, Dr. B. A. Gould, Professor
J. H. C. Coffin, U. S. N., and Mr. James Ferguson. The latter held
a civil position at the observatory, under the title of "assistant
astronomer," and was at the time the longest in service of any of
its force.
A different view was urged upon the secretary in terms substantially
these: "Professors so able as those of the observatory require no
one to direct their work. All that the observatory really needs
is an administrative head who shall preserve order, look after
its business generally, and see that everything goes smoothly."
Such a head the navy can easily supply.
The secretary allowed it to be given out that he would be glad to
hear from the professors upon the subject. I thereupon went to
him and expressed my preference for Professor Coffin. He asked me,
"How would it do to have a purely administrative head?"
I replied that we might get along for a time if he did not interfere
with our work.
"No," said the secretary, "he shall not interfere. That shall
be understood."
As I left him there was, to my inexperienced mind, something very
odd in this function, or absence of function, of the head of an
establishment; but of course I had to bow to superior wisdom and
could say nothing.
The policy of Commodore (afterward Rear-Admiral) Sands, the incoming
superintendent, toward the professors was liberal in the last degree.
Each was to receive due credit for what he did, and was in every way
stimulated to do his best at any piece of scientific work he might
undertake with the approval of the superintendent. Whether he wanted
to observe an eclipse, determine the longitude of a town or interior
station, or undertake some abstruse investigation, every facility
for doing it and every encouragement to go on with it was granted him.
Under this policy the observatory soon reached the zenith of
its fame and popularity. Whenever a total eclipse of the sun was
visible in an accessible region parties were sent out to observe it.
In 1869 three professors, I being one, were sent to Des Moines,
Iowa, to observe the solar eclipse which passed across the country
in June of that year. As a part of this work, I prepared and the
observatory issued a detailed set of instructions to observers in
towns at each edge of the shadow-path to note the short duration of
totality. The object was to determine the exact point to which the
shadow extended. At this same eclipse Professor Harkness shared with
Professor Young of Princeton the honor of discovering the brightest
line in the spectrum of the sun's corona. The year following parties
were sent to the Mediterranean to observe an eclipse which occurred
in December, 1870. I went to Gibraltar, although the observation of
the eclipse was to me only a minor object. Some incidents connected
with this European trip will be described in a subsequent chapter.
The reports of the eclipse parties not only described the scientific
observations in great detail, but also the travels and experiences,
and were sometimes marked by a piquancy not common in official
documents. These reports, others pertaining to longitude, and
investigations of various kinds were published in full and distributed
with great liberality. All this activity grew out of the stimulating
power and careful attention to business of the head of the observatory
and the ability of the young professors of his staff. It was very
pleasant to the latter to wear the brilliant uniform of their rank,
enjoy the protection of the Navy Department, and be looked upon,
one and all, as able official astronomers. The voice of one of our
scientific men who returned from a visit abroad declaring that one
of our eclipse reports was the laughing-stock of Europe was drowned
in the general applause.
In the latter part of 1869 I had carried forward the work with
the transit circle as far as it could be profitably pursued under
existing conditions. On working up my observations, the error which
I had suspected in the adopted positions of the stars was proved
to be real. But the discovery of this error was due more to the
system of observation, especially the pursuit of the latter through
the day and night, than it was to any excellence of the instrument.
The latter proved to have serious defects which were exaggerated by
the unstable character of the clayey soil of the hill on which the
observatory was situated. Other defects also existed, which seemed
to preclude the likelihood that the future work of the instrument
would be of a high class. I had also found that very difficult
mathematical investigations were urgently needed to unravel one
of the greatest mysteries of astronomy, that of the moon's motion.
This was a much more important work than making observations, and
I wished to try my hand at it. So in the autumn I made a formal
application to the Secretary of the Navy to be transferred from
the observatory to the Nautical Almanac Office for the purpose of
engaging in researches on the motion of the moon. On handing this
application to the superintendent he suggested that the work in
question might just as well be done at the observatory. I replied
that I thought that the business of the observatory was to make and
reduce astronomical observations with its instruments, and that the
making of investigations of the kind I had in view had always been
considered to belong to the Nautical Almanac Office. He replied that
he deemed it equally appropriate for the observatory to undertake it.
As my objection was founded altogether on a principle which he
refused to accept, and as by doing the work at the observatory
I should have ready access to its library, I consented to the
arrangement he proposed. Accordingly, in forwarding my application,
he asked that my order should be so worded as not to detach me from
the observatory, but to add the duty I asked for to that which I
was already performing.
So far as I was personally concerned, this change was fortunate
rather than otherwise. As things go in Washington, the man who
does his work in a fine public building can gain consideration for
it much more readily than if he does it in a hired office like that
which the "Nautical Almanac" then occupied. My continued presence
on the observatory staff led to my taking part in two of the great
movements of the next ten years, the construction and inauguration
of the great telescope and the observations of the transit of Venus.
But for the time being my connection with the regular work of the
observatory ceased.
On the retirement of Admiral Sands in 1874, Admiral Davis returned
to the observatory, and continued in charge until his death in
February, 1877. The principal event of this second administration
was the dispatch of parties to observe the transit of Venus. Of this
I shall speak in full in a subsequent chapter.
One incident, although of no public importance, was of some interest
at the time. This was a visit of the only emperor who, I believe,
had ever set foot on our shores,--Dom Pedro of Brazil. He had
chosen the occasion of our Centennial for a visit to this country,
and excited great interest during his stay, not only by throwing
off all imperial reserve during his travels, but by the curiosity
and vigor with which he went from place to place examining and
studying everything he could find, and by the singular extent of
his knowledge on almost every subject of a scientific or technical
character. A Philadelphia engineer with whom he talked was quoted
as saying that his knowledge of engineering was not merely of the
ordinary kind to be expected in an intelligent man, but extended
to the minutest details and latest improvements in the building of
bridges, which was the specialty of the engineer in question.
Almost as soon as he arrived in Washington I received the following
letter by a messenger from the Arlington Hotel:--
Mr.:
En arrivant a Washington j'ai tout-de-suite songe a votre
observatoire, ou vous avez acquis tant de droit a l'estime
de tout ceux qui achevent la science. Je m'y rendrai donc
aujourd'hui a 7 heures du soir, et je compte vous y trouver,
surtout pour vous remercier de votre beau memoire que j'ai
recu peu avant mon depart de mon pays, et que je n'ai pas
pu, par consequent, apprecier autant que je l'aurais voulu.
En me plaisant de l'espoir de vous connaitre personnellement
je vous prie de me compter parmi vos affectionnes.
D. Pedro D'Alcantara.
7 Mai, 1876.
Like other notes which I subsequently received from him, it was in
his own autograph throughout: if he brought any secretary with him
on his travels I never heard of it.
The letter placed me in an embarrassing position, because its being
addressed to me was in contravention of all official propriety.
Of course I lost no time in calling on him and trying to explain the
situation. I told him that Admiral Davis, whom he well knew from
his being in command of the Brazilian station a few years before,
was the head of the observatory, and hinted as plainly as I could
that a notification of the coming of such a visitor as he should
be sent to the head of the institution. But he refused to take
the hint, and indicated that he expected me to arrange the whole
matter for him. This I did by going to the observatory and frankly
explaining the matter to Admiral Davis. Happily the latter was not
a stickler for official forms, and was cast in too large a mould to
take offense where none was intended. At his invitation I acted as
one of the receiving party. The carriage drove up at the appointed
hour, and its occupant was welcomed by the admiral at the door with
courtly dignity. The visitor had no time to spend in preliminaries;
he wished to look through the establishment immediately.
The first object to meet his view was a large marble-cased clock
which, thirty years before, had acquired some celebrity from being
supposed to embody the first attempt to apply electricity to the
recording of astronomical observations. It was said to have cost
a large sum, paid partly as a reward to its inventor. Its only
drawbacks were that it would not keep time and had never, so far as
I am aware, served any purpose but that of an ornament. The first
surprise came when the visitor got down on his hands and knees in
front of the clock, reached his hands under it, and proceeded to
examine its supports. We all wondered what it could mean. When he
arose, it was explained. He did not see how a clock supported in this
way could keep the exact time necessary in the work of an astronomer.
So we had to tell him that the clock was not used for this purpose,
and that he must wait until we visited the observing rooms to see
our clocks properly supported.
The only evidence of the imperial will came out when he reached the
great telescope. The moon, near first quarter, was then shining,
but the night was more than half cloudy, and there was no hope of
obtaining more than a chance glimpse at it through the clouds.
But he wished to see the moon through the telescope. I replied
that the sky was now covered, and it was very doubtful whether we
should get a view of the moon. But he required that the telescope
should be at once pointed at it. This was done, and at that moment a
clear space appeared between the clouds. I remarked upon the fact,
but he seemed to take it as a matter of course that the cloud would
get out of the way when he wanted to look.
I made some remark about the "vernier" of one of the circles on
the telescope.
"Why do you call it a vernier?" said he. "Its proper term is a
nonius, because Nonius was its inventor and Vernier took the idea
from him."
In this the national spirit showed itself. Nonius, a Portuguese,
had invented something on a similar principle and yet essentially
different from the modern vernier, invented by a Frenchman of
that name.
Accompanying the party was a little girl, ten or twelve years old,
who, though an interested spectator, modestly kept in the background
and said nothing. On her arrival home, however, she broke her
silence by running upstairs with the exclamation,--
"Oh, Mamma, he's the funniest emperor you ever did see!"
My connection with the observatory ceased September 15, 1877, when
I was placed in charge of the Nautical Almanac Office. It may not,
however, be out of place to summarize the measures which have since
been taken both by the Navy Department and by eminent officers of
the service to place the work of the institution on a sound basis.
One great difficulty in doing this arises from the fact that neither
Congress nor the Navy Department has ever stated the object which
the government had in view in erecting the observatory, or assigned
to it any well-defined public functions. The superintendent and his
staff have therefore been left to solve the question what to do from
time to time as best they could.
In the spring of 1877 Rear-Admiral John Rodgers became the
superintendent of the observatory. As a cool and determined fighter
during the civil war he was scarcely second even to Farragut, and he
was at the same time one of the ablest officers and most estimable
men that our navy ever included in its ranks. "I would rather be
John Rodgers dead than any other man I know living," was said by
one of the observatory assistants after his death. Not many months
after his accession he began to consider the question whether the wide
liberty which had been allowed the professors in choosing their work
was adapted to attain success. The Navy Department also desired to
obtain some expressions of opinion on the subject. The result was
a discussion and an official paper, not emanating from the admiral,
however, in which the duty of the head of the observatory was defined
in the following terms:--
"The superintendent of the observatory should be a line officer of
the navy, of high rank, who should attend to the business affairs
of the institution, thus leaving the professors leisure for their
proper work."
Although he did not entirely commit himself to this view, he was under
the impression that to get the best work out of the professors their
hearts must be in it; and this would not be the case if any serious
restraint was placed upon them as to the work they should undertake.
After Rodgers's death Vice-Admiral Rowan was appointed superintendent.
About this time it would seem that the department was again disposed
to inquire into the results of the liberal policy heretofore pursued.
Commander (since Rear-Admiral) William T. Sampson was ordered to the
observatory, not as its head, but as assistant to the superintendent.
He was one of the most proficient men in practical physics that the
navy has ever produced. I believe that one reason for choosing
so able and energetic an officer for the place was to see if any
improvement could be made on the system. As I was absent at the
Cape of Good Hope to observe the transit of Venus during the most
eventful occasion of his administration, I have very little personal
knowledge of it. It seems, however, that newspaper attacks were made
on him, in which he was charged with taking possession of all the
instruments of the observatory but two, and placing them in charge
of naval officers who were not proficient in astronomical science.
In reply he wrote an elaborate defense of his action to the "New
York Herald," which appeared in the number for February 13, 1883.
The following extract is all that need find a place in the present
connection.
When I came here on duty a little more than a year since,
I found these instruments disused. The transit instrument
had not been used since 1878, and then only at intervals for
several years previous; the mural circle had not been used
since 1877; the prime vertical had not been used since 1867.
These instruments had been shamefully neglected and much
injured thereby. . . . The small equatorial and comet
seeker were in the same disgraceful condition, and were
unfit for any real work.
Admiral Franklin was made superintendent sometime in 1883, I believe,
and issued an order providing that the work of the observatory should
be planned by a board consisting of the superintendent, the senior
line officer, and the senior professor. Professors or officers
in charge of instruments were required to prepare a programme for
their proposed work each year in advance, which programme would be
examined by the board. Of the work of this board or its proceedings,
no clear knowledge can be gleaned from the published reports, nor
do I know how long it continued.
In 1885 Secretary Whitney referred to the National Academy of Sciences
the question of the advisability of proceeding promptly with the
erection of a new naval observatory upon the site purchased in 1880.
The report of the academy was in the affirmative, but it was added
that the observatory should be erected and named as a national
one, and placed under civilian administration. The year following
Congress made the preliminary appropriation for the commencement of
the new building, but no notice was taken of the recommendation of
the academy.
In 1891 the new buildings were approaching completion, and Secretary
Tracy entered upon the question of the proper administration of
the observatory. He discussed the subject quite fully in his annual
report for that year, stating his conclusion in the following terms:--
I therefore recommend the adoption of legislation which
shall instruct the President to appoint, at a sufficient
salary, without restriction, from persons either within or
outside the naval service, the ablest and most accomplished
astronomer who can be found for the position of
superintendent.
At the following session of Congress Senator Hale introduced an
amendment to the naval appropriation bill, providing for the expenses
of a commission to be appointed by the Secretary of the Navy,
to consider and report upon the organization of the observatory.
The House non-concurred in this amendment, and it was dropped from
the bill.
At the same session, all the leading astronomers of the country
united in a petition to Congress, asking that the recommendation of
the Secretary of the Navy should be carried into effect. After a
very patient hearing of arguments on the subject by Professor Boss
and others, the House Naval Committee reported unanimously against
the measure, claiming that the navy had plenty of officers able to
administer the observatory in a satisfactory way, and that there
was therefore no necessity for a civilian head.
Two years later, Senator Morrill offered an amendment to the
legislative appropriation bill, providing that the superintendent of
the observatory should be selected from civil life, and be learned
in the science of astronomy. He supported his amendment by letters
from a number of leading astronomers of the country in reply to
questions which he had addressed to them.
This amendment, after being approved by the Senate Naval Committee,
was referred by the Committee on Appropriations to the Secretary
of the Navy. He recommended a modification of the measure so
as to provide for the appointment of a "Director of Astronomy,"
to have charge of the astronomical work of the observatory, which
should, however, remain under a naval officer as superintendent.
This arrangement was severely criticised in the House by Mr. Thomas
B. Reed, of Maine, and the whole measure was defeated in conference.
In 1892, when the new observatory was being occupied, the
superintendent promulgated regulations for its work. These set forth
in great detail what the observatory should do. Its work was divided
into nine departments, each with its chief, besides which there
was a chief astronomical assistant and a chief nautical assistant
to the superintendent, making eleven chiefs in all. The duties of
each chief were comprehensively described. As the entire scientific
force of the observatory numbered some ten or twelve naval officers,
professors, and assistant astronomers, with six computers, it may
be feared that some of the nine departments were short-handed.
In September, 1894, new regulations were established by the Secretary
of the Navy, which provided for an "Astronomical Director," who
was to "have charge of and to be responsible for the direction,
scope, character, and preparation for publication of all work purely
astronomical, which is performed at the Naval Observatory." As there
was no law for this office, it was filled first by the detail of
Professor Harkness, who served until his retirement in 1899, then
by the detail of Professor Brown, who served until March, 1901.
In 1899 the Secretary of the Navy appointed a Board of Visitors
to the observatory, comprising Senator Chandler, of New Hampshire,
Hon. A. G. Dayton, House of Representatives, and Professors Pickering,
Comstock, and Hale. This board, "in order to obviate a criticism
that the astronomical work of the observatory has not been prosecuted
with that vigor and continuity of purpose which should be shown in
a national observatory," recommended that the Astronomical Director
and the Director of the Nautical Almanac should be civil officers,
with sufficient salaries. A bill to this effect was introduced
into each House of Congress at the next session, and referred to
the respective naval committees, but never reported.
In 1901 Congress, in an amendment to the naval appropriation bill,
provided a permanent Board of Visitors to the observatory, in whom
were vested full powers to report upon its condition and expenditures,
and to prescribe its plan of work. It was also provided in the same
law that the superintendent of the observatory should, until further
legislation by Congress, be a line officer of the navy of a rank not
below that of captain. In the first annual report of this board is
the following clause:--
"We wish to record our deliberate and unanimous judgment that the
law should be changed so as to provide that the official head of
the observatory--perhaps styled simply the Director--should be an
eminent astronomer appointed by the President by and with the consent
of the Senate."
Although the board still has a legal existence, Congress, in
1902, practically suspended its functions by declining to make any
appropriation for its expenses. Moreover, since the detachment of
Professor Brown, Astronomical Director, no one has been appointed to
fill the vacancy thus arising. At the time of the present writing,
therefore, the entire responsibility for planning and directing
the work of the observatory is officially vested in the naval
superintendent, as it was at the old observatory.
V