In the wonderful development of astronomical research in our country
during the past twenty years, no feature is more remarkable than
the rise on an isolated mountain in California of an institution
which, within that brief period, has become one of the foremost
observatories of the world. As everything connected with the early
history of such an institution must be of interest, it may not be
amiss if I devote a few pages to it.
In 1874 the announcement reached the public eye that James Lick, an
eccentric and wealthy Californian, had given his entire fortune to
a board of trustees to be used for certain public purposes, one of
which was the procuring of the greatest and most powerful telescope
that had ever been made. There was nothing in the previous history
of the donor that could explain his interest in a great telescope.
I am sure he had never looked through a telescope in his life, and
that if he had, and had been acquainted with the difficulties of an
observation with it, it is quite likely the Lick Observatory would
never have existed. From his point of view, as, indeed, from that of
the public very generally, the question of telescopic vision is merely
one of magnifying power. By making an instrument large and powerful
enough we may hope even to discover rational beings on other planets.
The president of the first board of trustees was Mr. D. O. Mills,
the well-known capitalist, who had been president of the Bank of
California. Mr. Mills visited Washington in the summer or autumn of
1874, and conferred with the astronomers there, among others myself,
on the question of the proposed telescope. I do not think that an
observatory properly so called was, at first, in Mr. Lick's mind;
all he wanted was an immense telescope.
The question was complicated by the result of some correspondence
between Mr. Lick and the firm of Alvan Clark & Sons. The latter
had been approached to know the cost of constructing the desired
telescope. Without making any exact estimate, or deciding upon the
size of the greatest telescope that could be constructed, they named
a very large sum, $200,000 I believe, as the amount that could be
put into the largest telescope it was possible to make. Mr. Lick
deemed this estimate exorbitant, and refused to have anything more
to do with the firm. The question now was whether any one else
besides the Clarks could make what was wanted.
I suggested to Mr. Mills that this question was a difficult one to
answer, as no European maker was known to rival the Clerks in skill in
the desired direction. It was impossible to learn what could be done
in Europe except by a personal visit to the great optical workshops
and a few observatories where great telescopes had been mounted.
I also suggested that a director of the new establishment should
be chosen in advance of beginning active work, so that everything
should be done under his supervision. As such director I suggested
that very likely Professor Holden, then my assistant on the great
equatorial, might be well qualified. At least I could not, at the
moment, name any one I thought would be decidedly preferable to him.
I suggested another man as possibly available, but remarked that
he had been unfortunate. "I don't want to have anything to do
with unfortunate men," was the reply. The necessity of choosing
a director was not, however, evident, but communication was opened
with Professor Holden as well as myself to an extent that I did not
become aware of until long afterward.
The outcome of Mr. Mills's visit was that in December, 1874, I was
invited to visit the European workshops as an agent of the Lick
trustees, with a view of determining whether there was any chance of
getting the telescope made abroad. The most difficult and delicate
question arose in the beginning; shall the telescope be a reflector
or a refractor? The largest and most powerful one that could be made
would be, undoubtedly, a reflector. And yet reflecting telescopes
had not, as a rule, been successful in permanent practical work.
The world's work in astronomy was done mainly with refracting
telescopes. This was not due to any inherent superiority in the
latter, but to the mechanical difficulties incident to so supporting
the great mirror of a reflecting telescope that it should retain its
figure in all positions. Assuming that the choice must fall upon a
refractor, unless proper guarantees for one of the other kind should
be offered, one of my first visits was to the glass firm of Chance &
Co. in Birmingham, who had cast the glass disks for the Washington
telescope. This firm and Feil of Paris were the only two successful
makers of great optical disks in the world. Chance & Co. offered
the best guarantees, while Feil had more enthusiasm than capital,
although his skill was of the highest. Another Paris firm was quite
willing to undertake the completion of the telescope, but it was also
evident that its price was suggested by the supposed liberality of an
eccentric California millionaire. I returned their first proposal
with the assurance that it would be useless to submit it. A second
was still too high to offer any inducement over the American firm.
Besides, there was no guarantee of the skill necessary to success.
In Germany the case was still worse. The most renowned firm there,
the successors of Fraunhofer, were not anxious to undertake such
a contract. The outcome of the matter was that Howard Grubb, of
Dublin, was the only man abroad with whom negotiations could be
opened with any chance of success. He was evidently a genius who
meant business. Yet he had not produced a work which would justify
unlimited confidence in his ability to meet Mr. Lick's requirements.
The great Vienna telescope which he afterward constructed was then
only being projected.
Not long after my return with this not very encouraging report,
Mr. Lick suddenly revoked his gift, through some dissatisfaction with
the proceedings of his trustees, and appointed a new board to carry
out his plans. This introduced legal complications, which were soon
settled by a friendly suit on the part of the old trustees, asking
authority to transfer their trust. The president of the new board was
Mr. Richard S. Floyd, a member of the well-known Virginia family of
that name, and a graduate, or at least a former cadet, of the United
States Naval Academy. I received a visit from him on his first trip
to the East in his official capacity, early in 1876, I believe. Some
correspondence with Mr. Lick's home representative ensued, of which
the most interesting feature was the donor's idea of a telescope.
He did not see why so elaborate and expensive a mounting as that
proposed was necessary, and thought that the object glass might be
mounted on the simplest kind of a pole or tower which would admit of
its having the requisite motions in connection with the eyepiece.
Whether I succeeded in convincing him of the impracticability of
his scheme, I do not know, as he died before the matter was settled.
This left the trustees at liberty to build and organize the
institution as they deemed best. It was speedily determined that
the object glass should be shaped by the Clarks, who should also be
responsible for getting the rough disks. This proved to be a very
difficult task. Chance & Co. were unwilling to undertake the work and
Feil had gone out of business, leaving the manufacture in the hands
of his son. The latter also failed, and the father had to return.
Ultimately the establishment was purchased by Mantois, whose success
was remarkable. He soon showed himself able to make disks not only
of much larger size than had ever before been produced, but of a
purity and transparency which none before him had ever approached.
He died in 1899 or 1900, and it is to be hoped that his successor
will prove to be his equal.
The original plan of Mr. Lick had been to found the observatory
on the borders of Lake Tahoe, but he grew dissatisfied with this
site and, shortly before his death, made provisional arrangements
for placing it on Mount Hamilton. In 1879 preparations had so far
advanced that it became necessary to decide whether this was really
a suitable location. I had grave doubts on the subject. A mountain
side is liable to be heated by the rays of the sun during the day,
and a current of warm air which would be fatal to the delicacy of
astronomical vision is liable to rise up the sides and envelope the
top of the mountain. I had even been informed that, on a summer
evening, a piece of paper let loose on the mountain top would be
carried up into the air by the current. But, after all, the proof of
the pudding is in the eating, and Holden united with me in advising
that an experienced astronomer with a telescope should be stationed
for a few weeks on the mountain in order to determine, by actual
trial, what the conditions of seeing were. The one best man for
this duty was S. W. Burnham of Chicago, who had already attained
a high position in the astronomical world by the remarkable skill
shown in his observations of double stars. So, in August, 1879,
huts were built on the mountain, and Burnham was transported thither
with his telescope. I followed personally in September.
We passed three nights on the mountain with Captain Floyd, studying
the skies by night and prospecting around in the daytime to see
whether the mountain top or some point in the neighboring plateau
offered the best location for the observatory. So far as the
atmospheric conditions were concerned, the results were beyond our
most sanguine expectations. What the astronomer wants is not merely
a transparent atmosphere, but one of such steadiness that the image
of a star, as seen in a telescope, may not be disturbed by movements
of the air which are invisible to the naked eye.
Burnham found that there were forty-two first-class nights during his
stay, and only seven which would be classed as low as medium. In the
East the number of nights which he would call first-class are but few
in a year, and even the medium night is by no means to be counted on.
No further doubt could remain that the top of the mountain was one
of the finest locations in the world for an astronomical observatory,
and it was definitely selected without further delay.
Sometime after my return Mr. Floyd sent me a topographical sketch
of the mountain, with a request to prepare preliminary plans for the
observatory. As I had always looked on Professor Holden as probably
the coming director, I took him into consultation, and the plans
were made under our joint direction in my office. The position and
general arrangement of the buildings remain, so far as I am aware,
much as then planned; the principal change being the omission of a
long colonnade extending over the whole length of the main front in
order to secure an artistic and imposing aspect from the direction
of San Jose.
In the summer of 1885, as I was in New York in order to sail
next day to Europe, I was surprised by a visit from Judge Hagar,
a prominent citizen of San Francisco, a member of the Board of
Regents of the University of California, and an active politician,
who soon afterward became collector of the port, to consult me on the
question of choosing Professor Holden as president of the university.
This was not to interfere with his becoming director of the Lick
Observatory whenever that institution should be organized, but was
simply a temporary arrangement to bridge over a difficulty.
In the autumn of 1887 I received an invitation from Mr. Floyd to go
with him to Cleveland, in order to inspect the telescope, which was
now nearly ready for delivery. It was mounted in the year following,
and then Holden stepped from the presidency of the university into
the directorship of the observatory.
The institution made its mark almost from the beginning. I know of no
example in the world in which young men, most of whom were beginners,
attained such success as did those whom Holden collected around him.
The names of Barnard, Campbell, and Schaeberle immediately became
well known in astronomy, owing to the excellence of their work.
Burnham was, of course, no beginner, being already well known,
nor was Keeler, who was also on the staff.
In a few years commenced the epoch-making work of Campbell, in the
most refined and difficult problem of observational astronomy,--that
of the measurement of the motion of stars to or from us. Through the
application of photography and minute attention to details, this
work of the Lick Observatory almost immediately gained a position
of preeminence, which it maintains to the present time. If any
rival is to appear, it will probably be the Yerkes Observatory.
The friendly competition which we are likely to see between these
two establishments affords an excellent example of the spirit of
the astronomy of the future. Notwithstanding their rivalry, each
has done and will do all it can to promote the work of the other.
The smiles of fortune have been bestowed even upon efforts that seemed
most unpromising. After work was well organized, Mr. Crossley,
of England, presented the observatory with a reflecting telescope
of large size, but which had never gained a commanding reputation.
No member of the staff at first seemed ambitious to get hold of such
an instrument, but, in time, Keeler gave it a trial in photographing
nebulae. Then it was found that a new field lay open. The newly
acquired reflector proved far superior to other instruments for this
purpose, the photographic plates showing countless nebulae in every
part of the sky, which the human eye was incapable of discerning in
the most powerful of telescopes.
In 1892, only four years after the mounting of the telescope, came
the surprising announcement that the work of Galileo on Jupiter had
been continued by the discovery of a fifth satellite to that planet.
This is the most difficult object in the solar system, only one or two
observers besides Barnard having commanded the means of seeing it.
The incident of my first acquaintance with the discoverer is not
flattering to my pride, but may be worth recalling.
In 1877 I was president of the American Association for the
Advancement of Science at the meeting held in Nashville. There I was
told of a young man a little over twenty years of age, a photographer
by profession, who was interested in astronomy, and who desired to see
me. I was, of course, very glad to make his acquaintance. I found
that with his scanty earnings he had managed either to purchase or
to get together the materials for making a small telescope. He was
desirous of doing something with it that might be useful in astronomy,
and wished to know what suggestions I could make in that line. I did
not for a moment suppose that there was a reasonable probability of
the young man doing anything better than amuse himself. At the same
time, feeling it a duty to encourage him, I suggested that there
was only one thing open to an astronomical observer situated as he
was, and that was the discovery of comets. I had never even looked
for a comet myself, and knew little about the methods of exploring
the heavens for one, except what had been told me by H. P. Tuttle.
But I gave him the best directions I could, and we parted. It is
now rather humiliating that I did not inquire more thoroughly into
the case. It would have taken more prescience than I was gifted
with to expect that I should live to see the bashful youth awarded
the gold medal of the Royal Astronomical Society for his work.
The term of Holden's administration extended through some ten
years. To me its most singular feature was the constantly growing
unpopularity of the director. I call it singular because, if we
confine ourselves to the record, it would be difficult to assign
any obvious reason for it. One fact is indisputable, and that
is the wonderful success of the director in selecting young men
who were to make the institution famous by their abilities and
industry. If the highest problem of administration is to select
the right men, the new director certainly mastered it. So far as
liberty of research and publication went, the administration had
the appearance of being liberal in the extreme. Doubtless there
was another side to the question. Nothing happens spontaneously,
and the singular phenomenon of one who had done all this becoming a
much hated man must have an adequate cause. I have several times,
from pure curiosity, inquired about the matter of well-informed men.
On one occasion an instance of maladroitness was cited in reply.
"True," said I, "it was not exactly the thing to do, but, after all,
that is an exceedingly small matter."
"Yes," was the answer, "that was a small thing, but put a thousand
small things like that together, and you have a big thing."
A powerful factor in the case may have been his proceeding, within
a year of his appointment, to file an astounding claim for the sum
of $12,000 on account of services rendered to the observatory in
the capacity of general adviser before his appointment as director.
These services extended from the beginning of preparations in 1874
up to the completion of the work. The trustees in replying to the
claim maintained that I had been their principal adviser in preparing
the plans. However true this may have been, it was quite evident,
from Holden's statement, that they had been consulting him on a much
larger scale than I had been aware of. This, however, was none of
my concern. I ventured to express the opinion that the movement
was made merely to place on record a statement of the director's
services; and that no serious intention of forcing the matter to a
legal decision was entertained. This surmise proved to be correct,
as nothing more was heard of the claim.
Much has been said of the effect of the comparative isolation of such
a community, which is apt to be provocative of internal dissension.
But this cause has not operated in the case of Holden's successors.
Keeler became the second director in 1897, and administered his office
with, so far as I know, universal satisfaction till his lamented
death in 1900. It would not be a gross overstatement to say that his
successor was named by the practically unanimous voice of a number
of the leading astronomers of the world who were consulted on the
subject, and who cannot but be pleased to see how completely their
advice has been justified by the result of Campbell's administration.