The result was perfectly successful; and the new firm turned out some
of the largest object-glasses which had until then been made. With one
of these instruments, having an aperture of 9.9 inches, Struve, the
Russian astronomer, made some of his greatest discoveries. Frauenhofer
was succeeded by Merz and Mahler, who carried out his views, and turned
out the famous refractors of Pulkowa Observatory in Russia, and of
Harvard University in the United States. These last two telescopes
contained object-glasses of fifteen inches aperture.
The pernicious impost upon flint glass having at length been removed by
the English Government, an opportunity was afforded to our native
opticians to recover the supremacy which they had so long lost. It is
to Thomas Cooke, more than to any other person, that we owe the
recovery of this manufacture. Mr. Lockyer, writing in 1878, says: "The
two largest and most perfectly mounted refractors on the German form at
present in existence are those at Gateshead and Washington, U.S. The
former belongs to Mr. Newall, a gentleman who, connected with those who
were among the first to recognise the genius of our great English
optician, Cooke, did not hesitate to risk thousands of pounds in one
great experiment, the success of which will have a most important
bearing upon the astronomy of the future."[7]
The progress which Mr. Cooke made in his enterprise was slow but
steady. Shortly after he began business as an optician, he became
dissatisfied with the method of hand-polishing, and made arrangements
to polish the object-glasses by machinery worked by steam power. By
this means he secured perfect accuracy of figure. He was also able to
turn out a large quantity of glasses, so as to furnish astronomers in
all parts of the world with telescopes of admirable defining power, at
a comparatively moderate price. In all his works he endeavoured to
introduce simplicity. He left his mark on nearly every astronomical
instrument. He found the equatorial comparatively clumsy; he left it
nearly perfect. His beautiful "dividing machine," for marking
divisions on the circles, four feet in diameter and altogether
self-acting--which divides to five minutes and reads off to five
seconds is not the least of his triumphs.
The following are some of his more important achromatic telescopes. In
1850, when he had been fourteen years in business, he furnished his
earliest patron, Professor Phillips, with an equatorial telescope of 6
1/4 inches aperture. His second (of 6 1/8) was supplied two years
later, to James Wigglesworth of Wakefield. William Gray, Solicitor, of
York, one of his earliest friends, bought a 6 1/2-inch telescope in
1853. In the following year, Professor Pritchard of Oxford was supplied
with a 6 1/2-inch. The other important instruments were as follows: in
1854, Dr. Fisher, Liverpool, 6 inches; in 1855, H. L. Patterson,
Gateshead, 7 1/4 inches; in 1858, J. G. Barclay, Layton, Essex, 7 1/4
inches; in 1857, Isaac Fletcher, Cockermouth, 9 1/4 inches; in 1858,
Sir W. Keith Murray, Ochtertyre, Crieff, 9 inches; in 1859, Captain
Jacob, 9 inches; in 1860, James Nasmyth, Penshurst, 8 inches; in 1861,
another telescope to J. G. Barclay, 10 inches; in 1864, the Rev. W. R.
Dawes, Haddenham, Berks, 8 inches; and in 1867, Edward Crossley,
Bermerside, Halifax, 9 3/8 inches.
In 1855 Mr. Cooke obtained a silver medal at the first Paris Exhibition
for a six-inch equatorial telescope.[8] This was the highest prize
awarded. A few years later he was invited to Osborne by the late
Prince Albert, to discuss with his Royal Highness the particulars of an
equatorial mounting with a clock movement, for which he subsequently
received the order. On its completion he superintended the erection of
the telescope, and had the honour of directing it to several of the
celestial objects for the Queen and the Princess Alice, and answered
their many interesting questions as to the stars and planets within
sight.
Mr. Cooke was put to his mettle towards the close of his life. A
contest had long prevailed among telescope makers as to who should turn
out the largest refracting instrument. The two telescopes of fifteen
inches aperture, prepared by Merz and Mahler, of Munich, were the
largest then in existence. Their size was thought quite extraordinary.
But in 1846, Mr. Alvan Clark, of Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, U.S.,
spent his leisure hour's in constructing small telescopes.[9] He was
not an optician, nor a mathematician, but a portrait painter. He
possessed, however, enough knowledge of optics and of mechanics, to
enable him to make and judge a telescope. He spent some ten years in
grinding lenses, and was at length enabled to produce objectives equal
in quality to any ever made.
In 1853, the Rev. W. E. Dawes--one of Mr. Cooke's customers--purchased
an object-glass from Mr. Clark. It was so satisfactory that he ordered
several others, and finally an entire telescope. The American artist
then began to be appreciated in his own country. In 1860 he received
an order for a refractor of eighteen inches aperture, three inches
greater than the largest which had up to that time been made. This
telescope was intended for the Observatory of Mississippi; but the
Civil War prevented its being removed to the South; and the telescope
was sold to the Astronomical Society of Chicago and mounted in the
Observatory of that city.
And now comes in the rivalry of Mr. Cooke of York, or rather of his
patron, Mr. Newall of Gateshead. At the Great Exhibition of London, in
1862, two large circular blocks of glass, about two inches thick and
twenty-six inches in diameter, were shown by the manufacturers, Messrs.
Chance of Birmingham. These discs were found to be of perfect quality,
and suitable for object-glasses of the best kind. At the close of the
Exhibition, they were purchased by Mr. Newall, and transferred to the
workshops of Messrs. Cooke and Sons at York. To grind and polish and
mount these discs was found a work of great labour and difficulty. Mr.
Lockyer says, "such an achievement marks an epoch in telescopic
astronomy, and the skill of Mr. Cooke and the munificence of Mr. Newall
will long be remembered."
When finished, the object-glass had an aperture of nearly twenty-five
inches, and was of much greater power than the eighteen-inch Chicago
instrument. The length of the tube was about thirty-two feet. The
cast-iron pillar supporting the whole was nineteen feet in height from
the ground, and the weight of the whole instrument was about six tons.
In preparing this telescope, nearly everything, from its extraordinary
size, had to be specially arranged.[10] The great anxiety involved in
these arrangements, and the constant study and application told heavily
upon Mr. Cooke, and though the instrument wanted only a few touches to
make it complete, his health broke down, and he died on the 19th of
October, 1868, at the comparatively early age of sixty-two.
Mr. Cooke's death was felt, in a measure, to be a national loss. His
science and skill had restored to England the prominent position she
had held in the time of Dollond; and, had he lived, even more might
have been expected from him. We believe that the Gold Medal and
Fellowship of the Royal Society were waiting for him; but, as one of
his friends said to his widow, "neither worth nor talent avails when
the great ordeal is presented to us." In a letter from Professor
Pritchard, he said: "Your husband has left his mark upon his age. No
optician of modern times has gained a higher reputation; and I for one
do not hesitate to call his loss national; for he cannot be replaced at
present by any one else in his own peculiar line. I shall carry the
recollection of the affectionate esteem in which I held Thomas Cooke
with me to my grave. Alas! that he should be cut off just at the
moment when he was about to reap the rewards due to his unrivalled
excellence. I have said that F.R.S. and medals were to be his. But he
is, we fondly trust, in a better and higher state than that of earthly
distinction. Best assured, your husband's name must ever be associated
with the really great men of his day. Those who knew him will ever
cherish his memory."
Mr. Cooke left behind him the great works which he founded in
Buckingham Street, York. They still give employment to a large number
of skilled and intelligent artizans. There I found many important
works in progress,--the manufacture of theodolites, of prismatic
compasses (for surveying), of Bolton's range finder, and of telescopes
above all. In the factory yard was the commencement of the Observatory
for Greenwich, to contain the late Mr. Lassell's splendid two feet
Newtonian reflecting telescope, which has been presented to the nation.
Mr. Cooke's spirit still haunts the works, which are carried on with
the skill, the vigour, and the perseverance, transmitted by him to his
sons.
While at York, I was informed by Mr. Wigglesworth, the partner of
Messrs. Cooke, of an energetic young astronomer at Bainbridge, in the
mountain-district of Yorkshire, who had not only been able to make a
telescope of his own, but was an excellent photographer. He was not yet
thirty years of age, but had encountered and conquered many
difficulties. This is a sort of character which is more often to be
met with in remote country places than in thickly-peopled cities. In
the country a man is more of an individual; in a city he is only one of
a multitude. The country boy has to rely upon himself, and has to work
in comparative solitude, while the city boy is distracted by
excitements. Life in the country is full of practical teachings;
whereas life in the city may be degraded by frivolities and pleasures,
which are too often the foes of work. Hence we have usually to go to
out-of-the-way corners of the country for our hardest brain-workers.
Contact with the earth is a great restorer of power; and it is to the
country folks that we must ever look for the recuperative power of the
nation as regards health, vigour, and manliness.
Bainbridge is a remote country village, situated among the high lands
or Fells on the north-western border of Yorkshire. The mountains there
send out great projecting buttresses into the dales; and the waters
rush down from the hills, and form waterfalls or Forces, which Turner
has done so much to illustrate. The river Bain runs into the Yore at
Bainbridge, which is supposed to be the site of an old Roman station.
Over the door of the Grammar School is a mermaid, said to have been
found in a camp on the top of Addleborough, a remarkable limestone hill
which rises to the south-east of Bainbridge. It is in this
grammar-school that we find the subject of this little autobiography.
He must be allowed to tell the story of his life--which he describes as
'Work: Good, Bad, and Indifferent--in his own words:
"I was born on November 20th, 1853. In my childhood I suffered from
ill-health. My parents let me play about in the open air, and did not
put me to school until I had turned my sixth year. One day, playing in
the shoemaker's shop, William Farrel asked me if I knew my letters. I
answered 'No.' He then took down a primer from a shelf, and began to
teach me the alphabet, at the same time amusing me by likening the
letters to familiar objects in his shop. I soon learned to read, and
in about six weeks I surprised my father by reading from an easy book
which the shoemaker had given me.
"My father then took me into the school, of which he was master, and my
education may be said fairly to have begun. My progress, however, was
very slow partly owing to ill-health, but more, I must acknowledge, to
carelessness and inattention. In fact, during the first four years I
was at school, I learnt very little of anything, with the exception of
reciting verses, which I seemed to learn without any mental effort. My
memory became very retentive. I found that by attentively reading half
a page of print, or more, from any of the school-books, I could repeat
the whole of it without missing a word. I can scarcely explain how I
did it; but I think it was by paying strict attention to the words as
words, and forming a mental picture of the paragraphs as they were
grouped in the book. Certain, I am, that their sense never made much
impression on me, for, when questioned by the teacher, I was always
sent to the bottom of the class, though apparently I had learned my
exercise to perfection.
"When I was twelve years old, I made the acquaintance of a very
ingenious boy, who came to our school. Samuel Bridge was a born
mechanic. Though only a year older than myself, such was his ability
in the use of tools, that he could construct a model of any machine
that he saw. He awakened in me a love of mechanical construction, and
together we made models of colliery winding-frames, iron-rolling mills,
trip-hammers, and water-wheels. Some of them were not mere toys, but
constructed to scale, and were really good working models. This love
of mechanical construction has never left me, and I shall always
remember with affection Samuel Bridge, who first taught me to use the
hammer and file. The last I heard of him was in 1875, when he passed
his examination as a schoolmaster, in honours, and was at the head of
his list.
"During the next two years, when between twelve and fourteen, I made
comparatively slow progress at school. I remember having to write out
the fourth commandment from memory. The teacher counted twenty-three
mistakes in ten lines of my writing. It will be seen from this, that,
as regards learning, I continued heedless and backward. About this
time, my father, who was a good violinist, took me under his tuition.
He made me practice on the violin about an hour and a half a day. I
continued this for a long time. But the result was failure. I hated
the violin, and would never play unless compelled to do so. I suppose
the secret was that I had no 'ear.'
"It was different with subjects more to my mind. Looking over my
father's books one day, I came upon Gregory's 'Handbook of Inorganic
Chemistry,' and began reading it. I was fascinated with the book, and
studied it morning, noon, and night--in fact, every time when I could
snatch a few minutes. I really believe that at one time I could have
repeated the whole of the book from memory. Now I found the value of
arithmetic, and set to work in earnest on proportion, vulgar and
decimal fractions, and, in fact, everything in school work that I could
turn to account in the science of chemistry. The result of this sudden
application was that I was seized with an illness. For some months I
had incessant headache; my hair became dried up, then turned grey, and
finally came off. Weighing myself shortly after my recovery, at the
age of fifteen, I found that I just balanced fifty-six pounds. I took
up mensuration, then astronomy, working at them slowly, but giving the
bulk of my spare time to chemistry.
"In the year 1869, when I was sixteen years old, I came across Cuthbert
Bede's book, entitled 'Photographic Pleasures.' It is an amusing book,
giving an account of the rise and progress of photography, and at the
same time having a good-natured laugh at it. I read the book
carefully, and took up photography as an amusement, using some
apparatus which belonged to my father, who had at one time dabbled in
the art. I was soon able to take fair photographs. I then decided to
try photography as a business. I was apprenticed to a photographer,
and spent four years with him--one year at Northallerton, and three at
Darlington. When my employer removed to Darlington, I joined the
School of Art there.
"Having read an account of the experiments of M. E. Becquerel, a French
savant, on photographing in the colours of nature, my curiosity was
awakened. I carefully repeated his experiments, and convinced myself
that he was correct. I continued my experiments in heliochromy for a
period of about two years, during which time I made many photographs in
colours, and discovered a method of developing the coloured image,
which enabled me to shorten the exposure to one-fortieth of the
previously-required time. During these experiments, I came upon some
curious results, which, I think, might puzzle our scientific men to
account for. For instance, I proved the existence of black light, or
rays of such a nature as to turn the rose-coloured surface of the
sensitive-plate black--that is, rays reflected from the black paint of
drapery, produced black in the picture, and not the effect of darkness.
I was, like Becquerel, unable to fix the coloured image without
destroying the colours; though the plates would keep a long while in
the dark, and could be examined in a subdued, though not in a strong
light. The coloured image was faint, but the colours came out with
great truth and delicacy.
"I began to attend the School of Art at Darlington on the 6th of March,
1872. I found, on attempting to draw, that I had naturally a correct
eye and hand; and I made such progress, that when the students'
drawings were examined, previously to sending them up to South
Kensington, all my work was approved. I was then set to draw from the
cast in chalk, although I had only been at the school for a month. I
tried for all the four subjects at the May examination, and was
fortunate enough to pass three of them, and obtained as a prize
Packett's 'Sciography.' I worked hard during the next year, and sent up
seventeen works; for one of these, the 'Venus de Milo,' I gained a
studentship.
"I then commenced the study of human anatomy, and began water-colour
painting, reading all the works upon art on which I could lay my hand.
At the May examination of 1873, I completed my second-grade
certificate, and at the end of the year of my studentship, I accepted
the office of teacher in the School of Art. This art-training created
in me a sort of disgust for photography, as I saw that the science of
photography had really very little genuine art in it, and was more
allied to a mechanical pursuit than to an artistic one. Now, when I
look back on my past ideas, I clearly see that a great deal of this
disgust was due to my ignorance and self-conceit.
"In 1874, I commenced painting in tempora, and then in oil, copying the
pictures lent to the school from the South Kensington Art Library. I
worked also from still life, and began sketching from nature in oil and
water-colours, sometimes selling my work to help me to buy materials
for art-work and scientific experiments. I was, however, able to do
very little in the following year, as I was at home suffering from
sciatica. For nine months I could not stand erect, but had to hobble
about with a stick. This illness caused me to give up my teachership.
"Early in 1876 I returned to Darlington. I went on with my art studies
and the science of chemistry; though I went no further in heliochromy.
I pushed forward with anatomy. I sent about fifteen works to South
Kensington, and gained as my third-grade prize in list A the
'Dictionary of Terms used in Art' by Thomas Fairholt, which I found a
very useful work. Towards the end of the year, my father, whose health
was declining, sent for me home to assist him in the school. I now
commenced the study of Algebra and Euclid in good earnest, but found it
tough work. My father, though a fair mathematician, was unable to give
me any instruction; for he had been seized with paralysis, from which
he never recovered. Before he died, he recommended me to try for a
schoolmaster's certificate; and I promised him that I would. I
obtained a situation as master of a small village school, not under
Government inspection; and I studied during the year, and obtained a
second class certificate at the Durham Diocesan College at Christmas,
1877. Early in the following year, the school was placed under
Government inspection, and became a little more remunerative.
"I now went on with chemical analysis, making my own apparatus.
Requiring an intense heat on a small scale, I invented a furnace that
burnt petroleum oil. It was blown by compressed air. After many
failures, I eventually succeeded in bringing it to such perfection that
in 7 1/2 minutes it would bring four ounces of steel into a perfectly
liquefied state. I next commenced the study of electricity and
magnetism; and then acoustics, light, and heat. I constructed all my
apparatus myself, and acquired the art of glass-blowing, in order to
make my own chemical apparatus, and thus save expense.
"I then went on with Algebra and Euclid, and took up plane
trigonometry; but I devoted most of my time to electricity and
magnetism. I constructed various scientific apparatus--a syren,
telephones, microphones, an Edison's megaphone, as well as an
electrometer, and a machine for covering electric wire with cotton or
silk. A friend having lent me a work on artificial memory, I began to
study it; but the work led me into nothing but confusion, and I soon
found that if I did not give it up, I should be left with no memory at
all. I still went an sketching from Nature, not so much as a study,
but as a means of recruiting my health, which was far from being good.
At the beginning of 1881 I obtained my present situation as assistant
master at the Yorebridge Grammar School, of which the Rev. W.
Balderston, M.A., is principal.
"Soon after I became settled here, I spent some of my leisure time in
reading Emerson's 'Optics,' a work I bought at an old bookstall. I was
not very successful with it, owing to my deficient mathematical
knowledge. On the May Science Examinations of 1881 taking place at
Newcastle-on-Tyne, applied for permission to sit, and obtained four
tickets for the following subjects:--Mathematics, Electricity and
Magnetism, Acoustics, Light and Heat, and Physiography. During the
preceding month I had read up the first three subjects, but, being
pressed for time, I gave up the idea of taking physiography. However,
on the last night of the examinations, I had some conversation with one
of the students as to the subjects required for physiography. He said,
'You want a little knowledge of everything in a scientific way, and
nothing much of anything.' I determined to try, for 'nothing much of
anything' suited me exactly. I rose early next morning, and as soon as
the shops were open I went and bought a book on the subject, 'Outlines
of Physiography,' by W. Lawson, F.R.G.S. I read it all day, and at
night sat for the examination. The results of my examinations were,
failure in mathematics, but second class advanced grade certificates in
all the others. I do not attach any credit to passing in physiography,
but merely relate the circumstance as curiously showing what can be
done by a good 'cram.'
"The failure in mathematics caused me to take the subject 'by the
horns,' to see what I could do with it. I began by going over
quadratic equations, and I gradually solved the whole of those given in
Todhunter's larger 'Algebra.' Then I re-read the progressions,
permutations, combinations; the binomial theorem, with indices and
surds; the logarithmic theorem and series, converging and diverging. I
got Todhunter's larger 'Plane Trigonometry,' and read it, with the
theorems contained in it; then his 'Spherical Trigonometry;' his
'Analytical Geometry, of Two Dimensions,' and 'Conics.' I next obtained
De Morgan's 'Differential and Integral Calculus,' then Woolhouse's, and
lastly, Todhunter's. I found this department of mathematics difficult
and perplexing to the last degree; but I mastered it sufficiently to
turn it to some account. This last mathematical course represents
eighteen months of hard work, and I often sat up the whole night
through. One result of the application was a permanent injury to my
sight.
"Wanting some object on which to apply my newly-acquired mathematical
knowledge, I determined to construct an astronomical telescope. I got
Airy's 'Geometrical Optics,' and read it through. Then I searched
through all my English Mechanic (a scientific paper that I take), and
prepared for my work by reading all the literature on the subject that
I could obtain. I bought two discs of glass, of 6 1/2 inches diameter,
and began to grind them to a spherical curve 12 feet radius. I got
them hollowed out, but failed in fining them through lack of skill.
This occurred six times in succession; but at the seventh time the
polish came up beautifully, with scarcely a scratch upon the surface.
Stopping my work one night, and it being starlight, I thought I would
try the mirror on a star. I had a wooden frame ready for the purpose,
which the carpenter had made for me. Judge of my surprise and delight
when I found that the star disc enlarged nearly in the same manner from
each side of the focal point, thus making it extremely probable that I
had accidentally hit on a near approach to the parabola in the curve of
my mirror. And such proved to be the case. I have the mirror still,
and its performance is very good indeed.
"I went no further with this mirror, for fear or spoiling it. It is
very slightly grey in the centre, but not sufficiently so as to
materially injure its performance. I mounted it in a wooden tube,
placed it on a wooden stand, and used it for a time thus mounted; but
getting disgusted with the tremor and inconvenience I had to put up
with, I resolved to construct for it an iron equatorial stand. I made
my patterns, got them cast, turned and fitted them myself, grinding all
the working parts together with emery and oil, and fitted a
tangent-screw motion to drive the instrument in right ascension. Now I
found the instrument a pleasure to use; and I determined to add to it
divided circles, and to accurately adjust it to the meridian. I made
my circles of well-seasoned mahogany, with slips of paper on their
edges, dividing them with my drawing instruments, and varnishing them
to keep out the wet. I shall never forget that sunny afternoon upon
which I computed the hour-angle for Jupiter, and set the instrument so
that by calculation Jupiter should pass through the field of the
instrument at 1h. 25m. 15s. With my watch in my hand, and my eye to
the eye-piece, I waited for the orb. When his glorious face appeared,
almost in a direct line for the centre of the field, I could not
contain my joy, but shouted out as loudly as I could,--greatly to the
astonishment of old George Johnson, the miller, who happened to be in
the field where I had planted my stand!
"Now, though I had obtained what I wanted--a fairly good
instrument,--still I was not quite satisfied; as I had produced it by a
fortunate chance, and not by skill alone. I therefore set to work
again on the other disc of glass, to try if I could finish it in such a
way as to excel the first one. After nearly a year's work I found that
I could only succeed in equalling it. But then, during this time, I had
removed the working of mirrors from mere chance to a fair amount of
certainty. By bringing my mathematical knowledge to bear on the
subject, I had devised a method of testing and measuring my work which,
I am happy to say, has been fairly successful, and has enabled me to
produce the spherical, elliptic, parabolic, or hyperbolic curve in my
mirrors, with almost unvarying success. The study of the practical
working of specula and lenses has also absorbed a good deal of my spare
time during the last two years, and the work involved has been scarcely
less difficult. Altogether, I consider this last year (1882-3) to mark
the busiest period of my life.
"It will be observed that I have only given an account of those
branches of study in which I have put to practical test the deductions
from theoretical reasoning. I am at present engaged on the theory of
the achromatic object-glass, with regard to spherical chromatism--a
subject upon which, I believe, nearly all our text-books are silent,
but one nevertheless of vital importance to the optician. I can only
proceed very slowly with it, on account of having to grind and figure
lenses for every step of the theory, to keep myself in the right track;
as mere theorizing is apt to lead one very much astray, unless it be
checked by constant experiment. For this particular subject, lenses
must be ground firstly to spherical, and then to curves of conic
sections, so as to eliminate spherical aberration from each lens; so
that it will be observed that this subject is not without its
difficulties.
"About a month ago (September, 1883), I determined to put to the test
the statement of some of our theorists, that the surface of a rotating
fluid is either a parabola or a hyperbola. I found by experiment that
it is neither, but an approximation to the tractrix (a modification of
the catenary), if anything definite; as indeed one, on thinking over
the matter, might feel certain it would be--the tractrix being the
curve of least friction.
"In astronomy, I have really done very little beyond mere algebraical
working of the fundamental theorems, and a little casual observation of
the telescope. So far, I must own, I have taken more pleasure in the
theory and construction of the telescope, than in its use."
Such is Samuel Lancaster's history of the growth and development of his
mind. I do not think there is anything more interesting in the
'Pursuit of Knowledge under Difficulties.' His life has been a gallant
endeavour to win further knowledge, though too much at the expense of a
constitution originally delicate. He pursues science with patience and
determination, and wooes truth with the ardour of a lover. Eulogy of
his character would here be unnecessary; but, if he takes due care of
his health, we shall hear more of him.[11]
More astronomers in humble life! There seems to to be no end of them.
There must be a great fascination in looking up to the heavens, and
seeing those wondrous worlds careering in the far-off infinite. Let me
look back to the names I have introduced in this chapter of
autobiography. First, there was my worthy porter friend at Coupar
Angus station, enjoying himself with his three-inch object-glass. Then
there was the shoemaker and teacher, and eventually the first-rate
maker of achromatic instruments. Look also at the persons whom he
supplied with his best telescopes. Among them we find princes,
baronets, clergymen, professors, doctors, solicitors, manufacturers,
and inventors. Then we come to the portrait painter, who acquired the
highest supremacy in the art of telescope making; then to Mr. Lassell,
the retired brewer, whose daughters presented his instrument to the
nation; and, lastly, to the extraordinary young schoolmaster of
Bainbridge, in Yorkshire. And now before I conclude this last chapter,
I have to relate perhaps the most extraordinary story of all--that of
another astronomer in humble life, in the person of a slate counter at
Port Penrhyn, Bangor, North Wales.
While at Birnam, I received a letter from my old friend the Rev.
Charles Wicksteed, formerly of Leeds, calling my attention to this
case, and inclosing an extract from the letter of a young lady, one of
his correspondents at Bangor. In that letter she said: "What you write
of Mr. Christmas Evans reminds me very much of a visit I paid a few
evenings ago to an old man in Upper Bangor. He works on the Quay, but
has a very decided taste for astronomy, his leisure time being spent in
its study, with a great part of his earnings. I went there with some
friends to see an immense telescope, which he has made almost entirely
without aid, preparing the glasses as far as possible himself, and
sending them away merely to have their concavity changed. He showed us
all his treasures with the greatest delight, explaining in English, but
substituting Welsh when at a loss. He has scarcely ever been at
school, but has learnt English entirely from books. Among other things
he showed us were a Greek Testament and a Hebrew Bible, both of which
he can read. His largest telescope, which is several yards long, he
has named 'Jumbo,' and through it he told us he saw the snowcap on the
pole of Mars. He had another smaller telescope, made by himself, and
had a spectroscope in process of making. He is now quite old, but his
delight in his studies is still unbounded and unabated. It seems so sad
that he has had no right opportunity for developing his talent."
Mr. Wicksteed was very much interested in the case, and called my
attention to it, that I might add the story to my repertory of
self-helping men. While at York I received a communication from Miss
Grace Ellis, the young lady in question, informing me of the name of
the astronomer--John Jones, Albert Street, Upper Bangor--and intimating
that he would be glad to see me any evening after six. As railways
have had the effect of bringing places very close together in point of
time--making of Britain, as it were, one great town--and as the autumn
was brilliant, and the holiday season not at an end, I had no
difficulty in diverging from my journey, and taking Bangor on my way
homeward. Starting from York in the morning, and passing through Leeds,
Manchester, and Chester, I reached Bangor in the afternoon, and had my
first interview with Mr. Jones that very evening.
I found him, as Miss Grace Ellis had described, active, vigorous, and
intelligent; his stature short, his face well-formed, his eyes keen and
bright. I was first shown into his little parlour downstairs,
furnished with his books and some of his instruments; I was then taken
to his tiny room upstairs, where he had his big reflecting telescope,
by means of which he had seen, through the chamber window, the snowcap
of Mars. He is so fond of philology that I found he had no fewer than
twenty-six dictionaries, all bought out of his own earnings. "I am
fond of all knowledge," he said--"of Reuben, Dan, and Issachar; but I
have a favourite, a Benjamin, and that is Astronomy. I would sell all
of them into Egypt, but preserve my Benjamin." His story is briefly as
follows:--
"I was born at Bryngwyn Bach, Anglesey, in 1818, and I am sixty-five
years old. I got the little education I have, when a boy. Owen Owen,
who was a cousin of my mother's, kept a school at a chapel in the
village of Dwyrain, in Anglesey. It was said of Owen that he never had
more than a quarter of a year's schooling, so that he could not teach
me much. I went to his school at seven, and remained with him about a
year. Then he left; and some time afterwards I went for a short period
to an old preacher's school, at Brynsieneyn chapel. There I learnt but
little, the teacher being negligent. He allowed the children to play
together too much, and he punished them for slight offences, making
them obstinate and disheartened. But I remember his once saying to the
other children, that I ran through my little lesson 'like a coach.'
However, when I was about twelve years old, my father died, and in
losing him I lost almost all the little I had learnt during the short
periods I had been at school. Then I went to work for the farmers.
"In this state of ignorance I remained for years, until the time came
when on Sunday I used to saddle the old black mare for Cadwalladr
Williams, the Calvinist Methodist preacher, at Pen Ceint, Anglesey; and
after he had ridden away, I used to hide in his library during the
sermon, and there I learnt a little that I shall not soon forget. In
that way I had many a draught of knowledge, as it were, by stealth.
Having a strong taste for music, I was much attracted by choral
singing; and on Sundays and in the evenings I tried to copy out airs
from different books, and accustomed my hand a little to writing. This
tendency was, however, choked within me by too much work with the
cattle, and by other farm labour. In a word, I had but little fair
weather in my search for knowledge. One thing enticed me from another,
to the detriment of my plans; some fair Eve often standing with an
apple in hand, tempting me to taste of that.
"The old preacher's books at Pen Ceint were in Welsh. I had not yet
learned English, but tried to learn it by comparing one line in the
English New Testament with the same line in the Welsh. This was the
Hamiltonian method, and the way in which I learnt most languages. I
first got an idea of astronomy from reading 'The Solar System,' by Dr.
Dick, translated into Welsh by Eleazar Roberts of Liverpool. That book
I found on Sundays in the preacher's library; and many a sublime
thought it gave me. It was comparatively easy to understand.
"When I was about thirty I was taken very ill, and could no longer
work. I then went to Bangor to consult Dr. Humphrys. After I got
better I found work at the Port at 12s. a week. I was employed in
counting the slates, or loading the ships in the harbour from the
railway trucks. I lodged in Fwn Deg, near where Hugh Williams,
Gatehouse, then kept a navigation school for young sailors. I learnt
navigation, and soon made considerable progress. I also learnt a
little arithmetic. At first nearly all the young men were more
advanced than myself; but before I left matters were different, and the
Scripture words became verified--"the last shall be first." I remained
with Hugh Williams six months and a half. During that time I went
twice through the 'Tutor's Assistant,' and a month before I left I was
taught mensuration. That is all the education I received, and the
greater part of it was during my by-hours.
"I got to know English pretty well, though Welsh was the language of
those about me. From easy books I went to those more difficult. I was
helped in my pronunciation of English by comparing the words with the
phonetic alphabet, as published by Thomas Gee of Denbigh, in 1853.
With my spare earnings I bought books, especially when my wages began
to rise. Mr. Wyatt, the steward, was very kind, and raised my pay from
time to time at his pleasure. I suppose I was willing, correct, and
faithful. I improved my knowledge by reading books on astronomy. I
got, amongst others, 'The Mechanism of the Heavens,' by Denison
Olmstead, an American; a very understandable book. Learning English,
which was a foreign language to me, led me to learn other languages. I
took pleasure in finding out the roots or radixes of words, and from
time to time I added foreign dictionaries to my little library. But I
took most pleasure in astronomy.
"The perusal of Sir John Herschel's 'Outlines of Astronomy,' and of his
'Treatise on the Telescope,' set my mind on fire. I conceived the idea
of making a telescope of my own, for I could not buy one. While
reading the Mechanics' Magazine I observed the accounts of men who made
telescopes. Why should not I do the same? Of course it was a matter
of great difficulty to one who knew comparatively little of the use of
tools. But I had a willing mind and willing hands. So I set to work.
I think I made my first telescope about twenty years ago. It was
thirty-six inches long, and the tube was made of pasteboard. I got the
glasses from Liverpool for 4s. 6d. Captain Owens, of the ship Talacra,
bought them. He also bought for me, at a bookstall, the Greek Lexicon
and the Greek New Testament, for which he paid 7s. 6d. With my new
telescope I could see Jupiter's four satellites, the craters on the
moon, and some of the double stars. It was a wonderful pleasure to me.
"But I was not satisfied with the instrument. I wanted a bigger and a
more perfect one. I sold it and got new glasses from Solomon of
London, who was always ready to trust me. I think it was about the
year 1868 that I began to make a reflecting telescope. I got a rough
disc of glass, from St. Helens, of ten inches diameter. It took me
from nine to ten days to grind and polish it ready for parabolising and
silvering. I did this by hand labour with the aid of emery, but
without a lathe. I finally used rouge instead of emery in grinding
down the glass, until I could see my face in the mirror quite plain. I
then sent the 8 3/16 inch disc to Mr. George Calver, of Chelmsford, to
turn my spherical curve to a parabolic curve, and to silver the mirror,
for which I paid him 5L. I mounted this in my timber tube; the focus
was ten feet. When everything was complete I tried my instrument on
the sky, and found it to have good defining power. The diameter of the
other glass I have made is a little under six inches.
"You ask me if their performance satisfies me? Well; I have compared
my six-inch reflector with a 4 1/4 inch refractor, through my window,
with a power of 100 and 140. I can't say which was the best. But if
out on a clear night I think my reflector would take more power than
the refractor. However that may be, I saw the snowcap on the planet
Mars quite plain; and it is satisfactory to me so far. With respect to
the 8 3/16 inch glass, I am not quite satisfied with it yet; but I am
making improvements, and I believe it will reward my labour in the end."
Besides these instruments John Jones has an equatorial which is mounted
on a tripod stand, made by himself. It contains the right ascension,
declination, and azimuth index, all neatly carved upon slate. In his
spectroscope he makes his prisms out of the skylights used in vessels.
These he grinds down to suit his purpose. I have not been able to go
into the complete detail of the manner in which he effects the grinding
of his glasses. It is perhaps too technical to be illustrated in words,
which are full of focuses, parabolas, and convexities. But enough may
be gathered from the above account to give an idea of the wonderful
tenacity of this aged student, who counts his slates into the ships by
day, and devotes his evenings to the perfecting of his astronomical
instruments. But not only is he an astronomer and a philologist; he is
also a bard, and his poetry is much admired in the district. He writes
in Welsh, not in English, and signs himself "Ioan, of Bryngwyn Bach,"
the place where he was born. Indeed, he is still at a loss for words
when he speaks in English. He usually interlards his conversation with
passages in Welsh, which is his mother-tongue. A friend has, however,
done me the favour to translate two of John Jones's poems into English.
The first is 'The Telescope':--
"To Heaven it points, where rules the Sun
In golden gall'ries bright;
And the pale Moon in silver rays
Makes dalliance in the night.
"It sweeps with eagle glances
The sky, its myriad throng,
That myriad throng to marshal
And bring to us their song.
"Orb upon orb it follows
As oft they intertwine,
And worlds in vast processions
As if in battle line.
"It loves all things created,
To follow and to trace;
And never fears to penetrate
The dark abyss of space."
The next is to 'The Comet':--
"A maiden fair, with light of stars bedecked,
Starts out of space at Jove's command;
With visage wild, and long dishevelled hair,
Speeds she along her starry course;
The hosts of heaven regards she not,--
Fain would she scorn them all except her father Sol,
Whose mighty influence her headlong course doth all control."
The following translation may also be given: it shows that the bard is
not without a spice of wit. A fellow-workman teased him to write some
lines; when John Jones, in a seemingly innocent manner, put some
questions, and ascertained that he had once been a tailor. Accordingly
this epigram was written, and appeared in the local paper the week
after: "To a quondam Tailor, now a Slate-teller":--
"To thread and needle now good-bye,
With slates I aim at riches;
The scissors will I ne'er more ply,
Nor make, but order, breeches."[12]
The bi-lingual speech is the great educational difficulty of Wales. To
get an entrance into literature and science requires a knowledge of
English; or, if not of English, then of French or German. But the
Welsh language stands in the way. Few literary or scientific works are
translated into Welsh. Hence the great educational difficulty
continues, and is maintained from year to year by patriotism and
Eisteddfods.
Possibly the difficulties to be encountered may occasionally evoke
unusual powers of study; but this can only occur in exceptional cases.
While at Bangor Mr. Cadwalladr Davies read to me the letter of a
student and professor, whose passion for knowledge is of an
extraordinary character. While examined before the Parliamentary
Committee appointed to inquire into the condition of intermediate and
higher education in Wales and Monmouthshire, Mr. Davies gave evidence
relating to this and other remarkable cases, of which the following is
an abstract, condensed by himself:--
"The night schools in the quarry districts have been doing a very great
work; and, if the Committee will allow me, I will read an extract from
a letter which I received from Mr. Bradley Jones, master of the Board
Schools at Llanarmon, near Mold, Flintshire, who some years ago kept a
very flourishing night school in the neighbourhood. He says: 'During
the whole of the time (fourteen years) that I was at Carneddi, I
carried on these schools, and I believe I have had more experience of
such institutions than any teacher in North Wales. For several years
about 120 scholars used to attend the Carneddi night school in the
winter months, four evenings a week. Nearly all were quarrymen, from
fourteen to twenty-one years of age, and engaged at work from 7 A.M. to
5.30 P.M. So intense was their desire for education that some of them
had to walk a distance of two or even three miles to school. These,
besides working hard all day, had to walk six miles in the one case and
nine in the other before school-time, in addition to the walk home
afterwards. Several of them used to attend all the year round, even
coming to me for lessons in summer before going to work, as well as in
the evening. Indeed, so anxious were some of them, that they would
often come for lessons as early as five o'clock in the morning. This
may appear almost incredible, but any of the managers of the Carneddi
School could corroborate the statement.'
"I have now in my mind's eye," continues Mr. Bradley, "several of these
young men, who, by dint of indefatigable labour and self-denial,
ultimately qualified themselves for posts in which a good education is
a sine qua non. Some of them are to-day quarry managers, professional
men, certificated teachers, and ministers of the Gospel. Five of them
are at the present time students at Bala College. One got a situation
in the Glasgow Post Office as letter-carrier. During his leisure hours
he attended the lectures at one of the medical schools of that city,
and in course of time gained his diploma. He is now practising as a
surgeon, and I understand with signal success. This gentleman worked
in the Penrhyn Quarry until he was twenty years old. I could give many
more instances of the resolute and self-denying spirit with which the
young quarrymen of Bethesda sought to educate themselves. The teachers
of the other schools in that neighbourhood could give similar examples,
for during the winter months there used to be no less than 300 evening
scholars under instruction in the different schools. The Bethesda
booksellers could tell a tale that would surprise our English friends.
I have been informed by one of them that he has sold to young quarrymen
an immense number of such works as Lord Macaulay's, Stuart Mill's, and
Professor Fawcett's; and it is no uncommon sight to find these and
similar works read and studied by the young quarrymen during the dinner
hour."
"I can give," proceeds Mr. Cadwalladr Davies, "one remarkable instance
to show the struggles which young Welshmen have to undertake in order
to get education. The boy in question, the son of 'poor but honest
parents,' left the small national school of his native village when he
was 12 1/2 years of age, and then followed his father's occupation of
shoemaking until he was 16 1/2 years of age. After working hard at his
trade for four years, he, his brother, and two fellow apprentices,
formed themselves into a sort of club to learn shorthand, the whole
matter being kept a profound secret. They had no teachers, and they
met at the gas-works, sitting opposite the retorts on a bench supported
at each end with bricks. They did not penetrate far into the mysteries
of Welsh shorthand; they soon abandoned the attempt, and induced the
village schoolmaster to open a night school.
"This, however, did not last long. The young Crispin was returning
late one night from Llanrwst in company with a lad of the same age, and
both having heard much of the blessings of education from a Scotch lady
who took a kindly interest in them, their ambition was inflamed, and
they entered into a solemn compact that they would thenceforward devote
themselves body and soul to the attainment of an academical degree.
Yet they were both poor. One was but a shoemaker's apprentice, while
the other was a pupil teacher earning but a miserable weekly pittance.
One could do the parts of speech; the other could not. One had
struggled with the pans asinorum; the other had never seen it. I may
mention that the young pupil teacher is now a curate in the Church of
England. He is a graduate of Cambridge University and a prizeman of
Clare College. But to return to the little shoemaker.
"After returning home from Llanrwst, he disburthened his heart to his
mother, and told her that shoemaking, which until now he had pursued
with extraordinary zest, could no longer interest him. His mother, who
was equal to the emergency, sent the boy to a teacher of the old
school, who had himself worked his way from the plough. After the
exercise of considerable diplomacy, an arrangement was arrived at
whereby the youth was to go to school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and
Fridays, and make shoes during the remaining days of the week. This
suited him admirably. That very night he seized upon a geography, and
began to learn the counties of England and Wales. The fear of failure
never left him for two hours together, except when he slept. The plan
of work was faithfully kept; though by this time shoemaking had lost
its charms. He shortened his sleeping hours, and rose at any moment
that he awoke--at two, three, or four in the morning. He got his
brother, who had been plodding with him over shorthand, to study
horticulture, and fruit and vegetable culture; and that brother shortly
after took a high place in an examination held by the Royal
Horticultural Society. For a time, however, they worked together; and
often did their mother get up at four o'clock in the depth of winter,
light their fire, and return to bed after calling them up to the work
of self-culture. Even this did not satisfy their devouring ambition.
There was a bed in the workshop, and they obtained permission to sleep
there. Then they followed their own plans. The young gardener would
sit up till one or two in the morning, and wake his brother, who had
gone to bed as soon as he had given up work the night before.
