Searching the Stars: The Story of Caroline Herschel

manuscript.

INTRODUCTION

A woman in the shape of a monster

a monster in the shape of a woman

the skies are full of them

a woman "in the snow

among the Clocks and instruments

or measuring the ground with poles"

in her 98 years to discover

8 comets

she whom the moon ruled

Like us

levitating into the night sky

riding the polished lenses

Galaxies of women, there

doing penance for impetuosness

ribs chilled

in those spaces of the mind

An eye,

virile, precise and absolutely certain

from the mad webs of Uraniborg¹

encountering the NOVA

every impulse of light exploding

from the core

as life flies out of us

Tycho whispering at last

Let me not seem to have lived in vain

What we see, we see

and seeing is changing

the light that shrivels a mountain

and leaves a man alive

Heartbeat of the pulsar

heart sweating through my body

The radio impulse pouring in from Taurus

I am bombarded yet I stand

I have been standing all my life in the

direct path of a battery of signals

the most accurately transmitted most

untranslatable language in the universe

I am a galactic cloud so deep so

involuted that a light wave could take 15

years to travel through me And has

taken I am an instrument in the shape

of a woman trying to translate pulsations

into images for the relief of the body

and the reconstruction of the mind.

Adrienne Rich

Planetarium. Thinking of Caroline Herschel, 1750–1848,

astronomer,

Sister of William; and others.

WHO WAS CAROLINE HERSCHEL?

Caroline Herschel has been characterized by some as an extension of her astronomer brother, William Herschel (1738–1822) and by others as an unappreciated, misunderstood, and creative astronomer in her own right. Either extreme gives an incomplete picture of Herschel. The poet Adrienne Rich proposed the latter scenario. Viewed through her own twentieth-century feminist eyes in her poem, Planetarium, Rich evoked a Caroline Herschel overlooked by history who stood in the snow/among Clocks and instruments/or measuring the ground with poles. Struggling with adverse conditions, she valiantly observed, took measurements, and recorded data. Rich complained that Caroline was denied credit for her discoveries because of her sex, and attempted to rescue her reputation in her poem.² When evaluating the contributions of Herschel, it is tempting to allow our contemporary ideas to dictate the significance of an eighteenth/nineteenth-century woman. However in rejecting what historian of science David B. Kitts calls the terminal fallacy (viewing the past through present biases) it is equally unacceptable to espouse the opposite view, that Herschel got more recognition than she deserved because she was dependent on William for her astronomical accomplishments. There has been a decided shift in emphasis among feminist historians as they attempt to make Caroline Herschel an iconographic woman in science through downplaying her role as her brother’s helper and stressing her independent achievements. Claire Brock in her 2007 biography of Caroline Herschel has attempted to rehabilitate Herschel by stressing her ambitions and her desire to become independent. Although this reinterpretation is valuable in breaking down biases regarding scientific women, it is important not to overstate the case. Herschel’s contributions to the enterprise of eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century astronomy are so significant that overstatement, the retelling [of] women’s stories to make them conform with modern ideals,³ is not only unnecessary, but undesirable. Through her collaboration with William, Caroline was crucial in creating his reputation, and together they influenced the course of astronomy. It was Caroline who converted the raw data into publishable, accurate astronomical knowledge. Her cataloguing skills were vital, and her attention to detail unsurpassed – talents that William did not possess. Without understanding the construction of the heavens, it would have been impossible for Caroline to sort data, catalogue them, and make them available so that William’s reputation as a major eighteenth-century astronomer was assured. Although Caroline’s independent discoveries are also important, she seldom had time to pursue them because she was so involved in William’s enterprises.

HOW DO WE KNOW ABOUT CAROLINE HERSCHEL?

Thanks to the Herschels’ habits of keeping diaries, letters, and journals, there is a considerable amount of information available on Caroline’s life and work. The Royal Astronomical Society holds many of the Herschel manuscripts; J.R. Bennett listed them in the Memoirs of the Royal Astronomical Society 85 (1978). It is possible to obtain the information in the manuscripts by purchasing a DVD or microfilms from the Society. The Royal Society possesses a large collection of the correspondence of John Herschel, including some letters to Caroline as well as letters written by her. Other primary sources are located in Austin, Texas at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas. These papers include her autobiographies which she wrote twice, once in the 1820s for her youngest brother Dietrich and again in the 1840s for her nephew and his wife (John and Margaret Herschel). The first autobiography stops at 1788, the year William married, while the second finishes in 1782, the year brother Dietrich ran away to London. Since these autobiographies were written long after the events occurred – the first when she was in her seventies and the second when she was in her nineties – the two accounts vary slightly. Caroline’s written work was filled with creative spelling in English, and this biography retains her spelling or that transcribed by the sources. Invaluable to any work on Caroline Herschel is Michael Hoskin’s edited and transcribed version of these two autobiographies. Additional manuscripts sold at the same auction by Sotheby’s in London on 4 March 1958 are scattered throughout the world. Many of the Ransom Center manuscripts as well as numerous others were microfilmed before they were dispersed and may be consulted at the British Library.

Two classic printed sources for material on Caroline Herschel exist: Mary Cornwallis Herschel’s Memoir and Correspondence of Caroline Herschel (1876, 1879, and 2000) and The Herschel Chronicle: The Life-Story of William Herschel and His Sister Caroline Herschel, edited by Constance A. Lubbock (1933). The papers of the Herschels were available to Mary Cornwallis Herschel (Caroline’s nephew’s – John Herschel’s – daughter-in-law), and Constance Lubbock (William Herschel’s granddaughter) for their accounts of the family mentioned above. Although these sources are invaluable, it must be remembered that they have been selected by family members, so biases are bound to occur both in selection of materials to be published and in the commentary.

Many of the published works on various aspects of Herschel’s life and work are by Michael Hoskin who has done an exceptional job of developing the primary source material. He updates and includes additional sources and perspectives to the standard narrative produced by Lubbock and Mary Herschel. As Emily Winterburn noted, some alternative modern scholarship exists on William Herschel, such as Simon Schaffer’s contention that it was the Bath Philosophical Society that motivated Herschel to take up natural history and apply it to astronomy.⁴ According to Schaffer, Herschel, after joining the Bath Philosophical Society in 1780, read papers on natural history and matter theory to the society,⁵ and this venue became the sounding board for his views. Another view was proposed by Hoskin who credited the Herschels’ youngest brother, Dietrich, an avid entomologist, with stimulating William’s interest in moth collecting and scandalizing the astronomical world by introducing into astronomy the methods of natural history.⁶ Only recently have scholars become interested in re-evaluating Caroline Herschel’s life. Patricia Fara, in examining women’s place in the Enlightenment in Pandora’s Breeches, presents some new insights.⁷ A recent biography of Caroline Herschel by Claire Brock posits an important interpretation of the standard sources by stressing the importance of ambition and a desire for independence in Caroline’s life.⁸

The historiography that applies to male scientists is not necessarily relevant to Caroline Herschel’s experience. In order to understand her life and work, two studies on gender and science are especially helpful in placing her achievements in context: Creative Couples in the Sciences, edited by Helena M. Pycior, Nancy G. Slack, and Pnina G. Abir-Am (1995); and Uneasy Careers and Intimate Lives. Women in Science, 1789–1979, edited by Pnina G. Abir-Am and Dorinda Outram (1987). Both of these volumes present case studies of women scientists. Although the first book focuses on the practice of marital collaboration, sibling cooperation as in the case of the Herschels has much in common with husband–wife collaboration. In both types of partnerships, the woman is likely to be overshadowed by the male member. The collaborators occupy a joint public and private space resulting in both a blurring of personal and professional spheres as well as an expansion of their scientific and social opportunities.⁹ Collaboration provides flexibility for both partners. However, as the case of Caroline Herschel demonstrates, the result is seldom equal. The woman partner is often expected to spend more time on social and homemaking tasks and less on professional business. Nevertheless, collaboration still provides a clear advantage for the woman. Because of her interaction with William, Caroline could use him as a social cover thus allowing her to interact with people of different ages, genders, and marital status. Her relationship with William was especially essential in the maledominated scientific community of the time, for without a male scientific partner she would have been unable to develop these associations. It would have been unthinkable for Caroline, an unmarried woman, to carry on a correspondence with married scientists or, even more improbable, to meet such people socially.

Many scholars now accept the idea that family situations imposed problems and induced strategies and approaches to scientific work that were specific to women.¹⁰ This concept certainly applied to the Herschels. Neither William nor Caroline was university educated (Caroline was hardly formally educated at all), and yet William was able to become an accepted member of the British astronomical community. Without William, Caroline would not have had that choice. She entered this community reluctantly, and if it were not for her brother, never would have become involved in astronomy. When the contributions of women in science are considered, it is important to realize that although few eighteenth-century women entered science through conceptual innovation (because of their lack of educational opportunities and the existence of societal barriers) women such as Caroline Herschel contributed through the incremental accumulation of small-scale discoveries.

Although most of the books about William Herschel mention Caroline’s role, some secondary works spend more time and attention on her contributions to the partnership. One of these books by astronomer and historian of astronomy Agnes Clerke, The Herschels and Modern Astronomy (1901), provides an especially insightful and sympathetic presentation of Caroline. Most of the newer biographical dictionaries concerned with women in science include Caroline, using the same core information.

SYNOPSIS OF HERSCHEL’S LIFE

Caroline Herschel was a reluctant astronomer. Brought from her native Hanover by her brother William to the City of Bath in England, Caroline was trained to be a singer by William, the organist at the Octagon Chapel. Caroline, with a less than adequate education, was dependent on William to teach her English, arithmetic, and singing. Grateful to him for rescuing her from a dreadful home environment in Hanover, she was joyful at the prospect of learning singing, so that she could be a lead singer in William’s oratorios. In 1778, Caroline gave a highly acclaimed performance as first soloist for Handel’s Messiah.¹¹ This presentation resulted in an invitation to sing in Birmingham and perhaps could have launched her into an independent career in music. However, she was unable to bring herself to accept the offer because to do so would have meant absenting herself from her beloved William, a prospect she could not envision. She wrote in her first autobiography that:

I must have acquitted myself tolerably well in the principal Songs and Recitatives of the Messia; for before I left the Rooms I was offered an engagement for the Music meeting at Birmingham. But as I never intended to sing any where, but where my Brother was the Conductor I declined the offer.¹²

Her musical career was a short one. William increasingly neglected his musical obligations to spend more and more time with his hobby, astronomy. Although most astronomers were interested in the solar system, William was fascinated by the unprobed stellar region. In order to survey the entire heavens (his goal), he had to equip himself with the appropriate instruments, including telescopes. He enlisted Caroline’s help in constructing the instruments. Not at all happy with her new duties she grumbled, but agreed to take time away from her music to help William. Constance Lubbock, William’s granddaughter, noted in The Herschel Chronicle, that it required all Caroline’s devotion to overcome the dismay with which she found herself swept along in such an unexpected direction.¹³

Caroline never duplicated her 1778 musical triumph as a soloist. Perhaps her vocal abilities declined from lack of practice or possibly standards for vocalists had become higher. At any rate, her music in the 1780s consisted of leading the trebles.¹⁴ The final blow to both siblings’ musical career came when William discovered the planet Georgium Sidus (now Uranus) in 1781. His friends at the Royal Society arranged for him to show his telescopes to the royal family. King George III was so impressed by this achievement that he awarded William a modest stipend, allowing him to give up music and devote his entire life to astronomy. Life was never the same again for Caroline. She became William’s most devoted assistant and helped with all phases of telescopic observations.

Brother and sister left Bath for a house in the neighbourhood of Windsor Castle where they could set up their telescopes. Since she had little to occupy her time, it was convenient for Caroline to become more and more involved in astronomy. She had left her few friends behind in Bath and, since her musical career was finished, honed her observational skills and discovered new nebulae and comets. William rewarded her diligence by giving her a small Newtonian telescope of her own. However, only when William was out of town did she have an opportunity to sweep the heavens in search of comets. When he was at home she was at his beck and call, writing:

[I] could hardly be expected to meet with any Comets in that part of the heavens where I swept, for I generally chose my situation by the side of my Brother’s instrument that I might be ready to run to the clock or to write down memorandums.¹⁵

What began as a necessary chore soon took over Caroline’s life as it did William’s. She began to enjoy the prestige that her astronomical discoveries brought. Both because of her unique status as a woman astronomer and William Herschel’s sister, Caroline became the pet of the astronomical community. Even more important in providing Caroline with much-needed self esteem was the fact that in 1787 she was granted a salary by the King for her work as William’s assistant. Caroline had long been preoccupied with the fear that she would be unable to earn her own living. For the first time in her life she was not dependent on other people for her keep. She wrote in her autobiography that the King had conferred a salary of £50 a year on her:

And the first money I ever in all my life time thought myself to be at liberty to spend to my own liking. A great uneasiness was by this means removed from my mind, for though I had generally (and especially during the last busy 6 years) been the keeper – almost – of my Brother’s purse, with a charge to provide for my personal wants.¹⁶

Although originally reluctant to give up her musical career, her later comments indicate that she was proud of her accomplishments as an astronomer. She received recognition for her compilation of a new catalogue of nebulae, arranged in zones, from material in William’s multivolume Book of Sweeps and Catalogue of 2,500 Nebulae. Even though it was never published, this work, indispensable to John Herschel’s investigations, earned her a gold medal from the Royal Astronomical Society in 1828. In 1835 she and Mary Somerville became the first women to be awarded honorary memberships in this society, and in 1838 she was elected to membership in the Royal Irish Academy.¹⁷

Two years before her death she received a letter from Alexander von Humboldt notifying her that:

His Majesty the King [of Prussia], in recognition of the valuable service rendered to Astronomy by you, as the fellow-worker of your immortal brother, wishes to convey to you in his name the large Gold Medal for science.¹⁸

The considerable honours that Caroline Herschel received indicate that she was highly respected by contemporary astronomers. But was this respect deserved? Only through a study of her life and her relationships can Herschel’s importance as an eighteenth-century astronomer be assessed. In order to present a picture of the complete woman, her relationships with family, friends, and the astronomical community, the special problems relating to her position as a Hanoverian in England, the military struggles of the time, and her position as a woman astronomer are melded together with her actual astronomical discoveries in this account of her life and work.

SOME PHILOSOPHICAL IDEAS INFLUENCING ATTITUDES TOWARDS WOMEN

Although many of the philosophical ideas prominent during Caroline Herschel’s lifetime were not favourable for producing women scientists, a surprising number of women overcame obstacles such as the arguments produced by the enigmatic philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778). Rousseau accepted the idea of the radically different natures of man and woman. He wrote in Émile (1762) that a perfect woman and a perfect man ought not to resemble each other in mind any more than in looks.¹⁹ It is the nature of man and woman to complement each other with man being the strong, rational partner and woman the weak, sensuous one. Going against nature would be futile. Boys seek movement and noise: drums, boots, little carriages. Girls prefer what presents itself to sight and is useful for ornamentation: mirrors, jewels, dresses, particularly dolls. The doll is the special entertainment of this sex. This is evidently its taste, determined by its purpose.²⁰ The difference in temperament should dictate the kind of education that each receives. Once it is demonstrated that man and woman are not and ought not to be constituted in the same way in either character or temperament, it follows that they ought not to have the same education.²¹ Rousseau wrote that a girl’s education should provide her with the skills that would make her an asset to a man. Women should please and be useful to men and make themselves loved and esteemed by them. They should educate boys when they are young and take care of them when grown up. They should advise, console, and render men’s lives easy and agreeable.²² This view of women was shared by many eighteenth-century intellectuals, but not by Mary Wollstonecraft,