Great Astronomers: Flamsteed
Great Astronomers in Modern English
by Sir Robert S. Ball, 1895 (paraphrased by Leslie Noelani Laurio)
To view the table of contents for the rest of this book, click here.
John Flamsteed, 1646-1719
England's first Astronomer Royal.
In the Greenwich Observatory there are some preserved manuscripts, including documents in which John Flamsteed tells a bit about his life. We'll begin this chapter by quoting from his autobiography: 'In order to stay busy and provide myself with something to do, I'm going to write about my life -- my youth before I made my discoveries, and God's blessings, while they're still fresh in my memory. I'll tell about different events of my childhood, and what I was thinking so that whoever reads this will see that I wasn't completely obsessed with either my father's business or mathematics, but I found time and interest in other things that were just as important.'
Flamsteed is distinguished as being the very first "Astronomer Royal" at the Greenwich Observatory [now the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, or ROG]. In that position, he was able to be of help to Isaac Newton by providing him with observations to advance his lunar theory [solving the mystery of why there were irregularities in the moon's orbit].
John Flamsteed was born August 19, 1646 in the village of Denby in Derbyshire, England. His mother died when he was only three years old. When he was six, his father re-married, but his step-mother died two years later, leaving 8-year old John with two younger sisters. As a boy, he enjoyed the kind of adventure romances that appeal to the imagination, but he writes, 'at twelve years of age, I left all the wild ones and began to read the better sort of them that weren't quite so unbelievable to imagine.' By the age of fifteen, he was reading even more serious books such as Plutarch's Lives, and Tacitus' Roman History. [When Flamsteed was a child, Robinson Crusoe and Pilgrim's Progress hadn't yet been written, and Arabian Nights hadn't been translated into English,but there were fairy tales, myths, and fantastical histories. Don Quixote, Shakespeare, and the Fairie Queene had recently been published. Perhaps he read "chapbooks" as a very young boy.]
At about this same time (1661), he came down with a serious rheumatic condition that affected his joints and he had to leave school. But he studied astronomy on his own at home. He read everything about astronomy he could get his hands on, and saw a partial solar eclipse first-hand in September 1662. He didn't get very far in arithmetic until he was 15, when his father taught him about fractions and the 'golden Rule of Three.' [Rule of Three: cross multiplication used for solving proportions; see more on Wikipedia.] He learned these lessons easily and quickly. One of the books he was reading around this time got him interested in astronomical instruments, so he made himself a quadrant in order to record simple astronomical observations. He calculated and made up a chart to give the sun's altitudes at different times of day, which shows an early interest for the kind of practical astronomy that he developed later in his lifetime. His father did not approve of his scientific studies. He wanted him to follow a career in business. But John Flamsteed's passion drove him to pursue astronomy in spite of the obstacles he had to overcome. Unfortunately, just about the time he turned eighteen, his health problems flared up. He writes, 'the winter came on, and I had to stay indoors by the fire. I missed the warmth and dryness of the summer. It wasn't a convenient time of year to seek medical help, so I was left alone for the winter, with plans to find a physician in the spring.'
There was an Irish physician named Valentine Greatrackes -- more of a quack, actually -- who supposedly had power to heal simply with the stroke of his hands, without using any medicine whatsoever. John Flamsteed's father, in desperation over his son's health after trying conventional medicine, sent John to Ireland in August, 1665. With astronomical accuracy, John Flamsteed wrote in his autobiography that he was 'nineteen years, six days, and eleven hours old' at that time. He traveled with a friend through Liverpool, where they arrived on Tuesday, waited for favorable weather to sail, and left on a vessel called "Supply" on Friday. Saturday evening, they were in sight of Dublin. But before they landed, they almost wrecked on Lambay Island. Finally they were safely at the shore, but they were quarantined for a few days before they were allowed to come onshore. They got a room at the "Ship" Hotel on Dame Street, and then on Thursday, September 6, they left Dublin and started out for Assaune to see Mr. Greatrackes.
John Flamsteed wrote an interesting account of Ireland in his autobiography. They dined at Naas on the first day, and reached Carlow on Sept 8. He said it was the prettiest town they saw on their trip. They got lost a few times, and reached Castleton -- also called Four Mile Waters -- by Sunday morning. They asked where they might find a church, but the innkeeper said that the minister lived twelve miles away, and only came to preach once a year, when he came to collect his tithes! One local woman who overheard their conversation remarked that 'they had everything they needed in that town except the word of God.' John and his friend traveled on to Cappoquin, near the Blackwater river, on the road to Lismore, eight miles from Youghal, and walked the last mile to Assaune. They visited Mr. Greatrackes and saw him touch several patients. Flamsteed writes, 'some were practically cured, some began to mend, and for some, his strokes had no effect.' He described Mr. Greatrackes as having 'a kind of majestic yet friendly presence, and a composed bearing.' On Sept. 11 it was his turn. The famous quack stroked him, and, unsurprisingly, 'his disease did not stir.' He returned the next day, and the next -- but, even after the third treatment, there was no result. To Mr. Greatracke's credit, he refused to accept payment because Flamsteed was a stranger in town.
There was no use staying any longer, so Flamsteed and his friend started towards Dublin to return home. They traveled through Clonmel, which he described as 'a pleasantly situated town.' In those days when travel through Ireland was a risky thing, Flamsteed was so relieved to be back home after a month away that he wrote, 'God be praised for his care in this journey. Amen.'
What was the result of this trip on his health? He writes, 'The next winter, I was fairly healthy, and my rheumatic condition was not as severe as it had been before. But I don't know whether that was from God's mercy at receiving Mr. Greatrackes' treatment, or my journey and sea sickness. Perhaps both did some good.'
By this time, Flamsteed's interest in astronomy had clearly increased. He studied the construction of sundials, created a catalog of seventy fixed [non-moving] stars and their positions in the sky, and he calculated the exact time of the next projected solar eclipse which was scheduled on June 22, 1666. In his day, astrology was still accepted and believed, and he spent some time on studies and calculations in that subject, too. He started attempting to make predictions, but began to have doubts about astrology. He writes, 'Astrology seemed to give some strong uncertain hunches, but no absolute predictions.'
Meanwhile, he was advancing in more academic details of astronomy. He had painstakingly studied the "obliquity of the ecliptic" [the earth's equatorial rotation axis as it relates to the sun's course; read more on Wikipedia] as well as he could manage with the tools of astronomical observation available to him in that era. He tried to calculate the sun's distance from the earth by determining when the moon was exactly half illuminated, and he came up with accurate measurements of the length of the solar year [also called a tropical year, i.e., from summer solstice to summer solstice, or vernal equinox to vernal equinox; see more on Wikipedia]. Considering his down time due to ill health, John Flamsteed had made remarkable progress by the age of twenty.
He was interested in other branches of astronomy, too. In 1669-70 he compared the planets Jupiter and Mars with some specific fixed stars they passed. The tools he had at that time were imperfect, but he was able to use them to measure the intervals in the sky between the planets and the fixed stars, and, since the positions of the fixed stars were roughly known, he was able to use that data to calculate the positions of Jupiter and Mars. This method of comparing known positions to unknown ones is still the way astronomers determine where planets are located in the heavens. John Flamsteed's equipment didn't enable him to calculate exact measurements, but he was able to show that the charts currently in use at the time had the positions of the planets wrong.
His work in astronomy was beginning to attract attention, and he began to correspond with some distinguished scholars in the field. His predictions about some astronomical events scheduled to happen in 1670 were published. During the moon's monthly orbit, it passes across the stars that are in its path. When the moon passes over and obscures the star from view, the event is called an "occultation." Since the moon is close to the earth (relatively speaking), its position appears to us as if it moves in the sky, so an occultation that was visible from London would not be visible from somewhere else. Or, if the occultation was visible from both locations, it wouldn't be visible to both places at the same time. That makes it tricky to predict where an occultation will be visible at different observation towers. Flamsteed enjoyed these kinds of intricate calculations, so he made predictions about when the occultation of 1670 would be visible from various locations. Nowadays this kind of information is standard in our Nautical Almanac, but there was no such thing two hundred years ago. John Flamsteed sent his calculations to the President of the Royal Society [William Brouncker was president until 1677]. His work was received favorably and brought him to the notice of respected members of the Royal Society, including the mathematician John Collins, who became a personal friend and constant correspondent [a pen pal!]. Flamsteed's father was naturally proud that his son was noticed by such respected scholars and wanted him to go to London to meet some of these famous scientists that he had been corresponding with in person. In this way he became acquainted with Dr. Isaac Barrow, as well as Isaac Newton, who was Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge at the time. This visit led him to enroll at Jesus College, Cambridge, where he got his M.A. degree in June, 1674.
All this time, he had been helping his father in his business. His autobiography makes frequent references to journeys he took on unspecified business. But now it was time to set out on his own career. He intended to enter into holy orders [as a deacon] and take a position in Denby [Derbyshire] that a friend of his father's offered him. But, as Flamsteed put it, 'God's providence designed me for something else.'
Sir Jonas Moore, one of his distinguished scholar friends, was able to get him the position of 'king's astronomer' with a salary of £100 per year. Originally, this position was supposed to have a larger salary, but since Flamsteed had taken holy orders [maybe that comes with a vow of poverty?], a smaller amount was considered sufficient. But the 'king's astronomer' had no observatory.
At that time, the problem of coming up with a way to determine longitude at sea was an important topic all over Europe. A Frenchman named Le Sieur de S. Pierre came to London to explain his own idea for calculating longitude by using the fixed position of the stars. He had letters of recommendation to distinguished people in London and hoped to attract attention. When John Flamsteed understood his project, he pointed out that it couldn't work with the existing methods of astronomy. The exact positions of stars would be necessary, and those hadn't been charted accurately enough yet. Flamsteed's autobiography says, 'I didn't hear any more from the French gentleman after this, but my letters were shown to King Charles II. He was startled to learn that the star positions in the catalogue weren't accurate, and he said vehemently that the catalogue must be corrected. The stars must be observed, examined, and charted accurately so his seamen could use them properly.' Thus, an observatory was needed.
First a site had to be selected. Hyde Park and Chelsea College were both suggested, but Christopher Wren's recommendation was the one finally settled on: Greenwich Hill. King Charles granted £500, some bricks from Tilbury Fort, and wood, iron, and lead from a gatehouse in the Tower that had recently been demolished. He promised to provide whatever else might be needed. The first stone of the Royal Observatory was laid in August, 1675, and the building was finished a few years later. John Flamsteed worked hard to obtain modern astronomical instruments, and to get things set up so he could start making observations. In spite of the King's promises, Flamsteed didn't have much of a budget, and there were no assistants to help him with his work. Observations, reductions [which probably means converting life-sized planetary observations to charts, data, and numbers], and all the maintenance of the observatory had to be done by himself alone. But he had many friends who were willing to lend a hand. Sir Jonas Moore in particular was a big help, as well as a sympathetic and encouraging friend. Flamsteed continued to have bouts of ill health, which interrupted his work. His rheumatic issues 'stuck so close that he could not remove them,' he wrote. He also suffered from severe headaches and other even more serious ailments.
By 1678, his work at the observatory was in full swing. The focus of his study was on the problem of the earth's motion, and he tried to work it out by observing the sun and Venus. But that problem and other studies he was working on were only side projects. His main priority was cataloging the fixed stars. When he started his work, the only available chart of the fixed stars was the one Tycho Brahe had done around 1600. It charted about a thousand stars, but, due to the lack of precise equipment, their positions weren't accurate. The measurements weren't divided precisely, and Tycho had had no telescope, so he had relied on his naked eyes to determine their positions. He didn't have a clock or a micrometer to take exact measurements. Only the most basic knowledge of the correct motions of the heavenly bodies was known to use as a guide. In order to determine the longitude of some principle stars, Tycho had come up with the ingenious idea of measuring the position of Venus as related to the sun during the day when the planet's brightness allowed him to see it without a telescope, and then at night he observed the position of Venus related to the stars.
When Francis Baily published Flamsteed's British Catalogue of Stars [Catalogus Britannicus, published posthumously], he wrote in the introduction, 'Flamsteed's observations, along with other lucky circumstances, began a brilliant, new era for the world. At the same time he was charting the stars, Isaac Newton's powerful mind was also focused on astronomy, and there was a friendly exchange of information between both scientists. Flamsteed's first accurate positions of heavenly bodies, especially of Saturn, helped to further the research of Newton's geometry research. Newton's first edition of the Principia includes an acknowledgment to Flamsteed's aid, although Flamsteed thought the acknowledgment wasn't as ample as it should have been.'
John Flamsteed's observations weren't as accurate as those made in more recent times with superior equipment, but their antiquity gives them a unique perspective. They were calculated to shed understanding on the correct motions of the stars. His work is the origin of all catalogues since, and the naming system he used, although perhaps not as efficient as it could have been, has been adopted by all subsequent astronomers. His work has many errors, which isn't surprising, since much of it deals with detailed numbers. Francis Baily corrected many of the errors himself when he edited Flamsteed's Life and Works. In Flamsteed's later life, he was dealing with so many issues and struggling with so many health challenges, that he didn't have time to devote the care to correcting his calculations. In fact, he made many observations of stars that never even ended up in his British Catalogue! But Baily says, 'when you consider his lack of financial means, his weak health, and the troubles he constantly experienced, the wonder is that he accomplished as much as he did!'
Towards the end of his life, Flamsteed had conflicts with some of his scientific contemporaries. At Isaac Newton's urgent request, he had provided Newton with positions of the moon so that the lunar theory could be verified with observable data. But instead of being grateful for the favour, Newton asked for more data, and seemed to demand the information as a right. They disputed over this, and the letters and documents they exchanged over this matter and subsequent matters don't show either of them in a flattering light.
In 1684, John Flamsteed was ordained. He moved out of the observatory and became the Rector of Burstow. In 1692, at the age of 45, he married Margaret Cooke, the granddaughter of the previous Rector.
In spite of his life-long health issues, Flamsteed lived to the age of seventy three. He died on the very last day of 1719.
[Note: A 2008 BBC webpage, found here, on Derby says that Flamsteed "was furious when Sir Isaac Newton, who regularly used his data for his own studies, grew tired of Flamsteed's insistence on double-checking every detail before allowing his data to be published and rushed out an error-strewn version of the 'Historia Colestis Britannica' in 1712. Feeling deeply betrayed by Newton and Edmund Halley who had edited the volume, Flamsteed spent a small fortune buying up as many copies as he could before publicly burning them at the Royal Observatory. Newton responded by removing all references to Flamsteed from his 'Principia Mathematica' despite the astronomer's huge contribution to the volume.]
[There is a beautiful photo of the original observatory as well as information about Flamsteed's burial place here.]
by Sir Robert S. Ball, 1895 (paraphrased by Leslie Noelani Laurio)
To view the table of contents for the rest of this book, click here.
John Flamsteed, 1646-1719
England's first Astronomer Royal.
In the Greenwich Observatory there are some preserved manuscripts, including documents in which John Flamsteed tells a bit about his life. We'll begin this chapter by quoting from his autobiography: 'In order to stay busy and provide myself with something to do, I'm going to write about my life -- my youth before I made my discoveries, and God's blessings, while they're still fresh in my memory. I'll tell about different events of my childhood, and what I was thinking so that whoever reads this will see that I wasn't completely obsessed with either my father's business or mathematics, but I found time and interest in other things that were just as important.'
Flamsteed is distinguished as being the very first "Astronomer Royal" at the Greenwich Observatory [now the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, or ROG]. In that position, he was able to be of help to Isaac Newton by providing him with observations to advance his lunar theory [solving the mystery of why there were irregularities in the moon's orbit].
John Flamsteed was born August 19, 1646 in the village of Denby in Derbyshire, England. His mother died when he was only three years old. When he was six, his father re-married, but his step-mother died two years later, leaving 8-year old John with two younger sisters. As a boy, he enjoyed the kind of adventure romances that appeal to the imagination, but he writes, 'at twelve years of age, I left all the wild ones and began to read the better sort of them that weren't quite so unbelievable to imagine.' By the age of fifteen, he was reading even more serious books such as Plutarch's Lives, and Tacitus' Roman History. [When Flamsteed was a child, Robinson Crusoe and Pilgrim's Progress hadn't yet been written, and Arabian Nights hadn't been translated into English,but there were fairy tales, myths, and fantastical histories. Don Quixote, Shakespeare, and the Fairie Queene had recently been published. Perhaps he read "chapbooks" as a very young boy.]
At about this same time (1661), he came down with a serious rheumatic condition that affected his joints and he had to leave school. But he studied astronomy on his own at home. He read everything about astronomy he could get his hands on, and saw a partial solar eclipse first-hand in September 1662. He didn't get very far in arithmetic until he was 15, when his father taught him about fractions and the 'golden Rule of Three.' [Rule of Three: cross multiplication used for solving proportions; see more on Wikipedia.] He learned these lessons easily and quickly. One of the books he was reading around this time got him interested in astronomical instruments, so he made himself a quadrant in order to record simple astronomical observations. He calculated and made up a chart to give the sun's altitudes at different times of day, which shows an early interest for the kind of practical astronomy that he developed later in his lifetime. His father did not approve of his scientific studies. He wanted him to follow a career in business. But John Flamsteed's passion drove him to pursue astronomy in spite of the obstacles he had to overcome. Unfortunately, just about the time he turned eighteen, his health problems flared up. He writes, 'the winter came on, and I had to stay indoors by the fire. I missed the warmth and dryness of the summer. It wasn't a convenient time of year to seek medical help, so I was left alone for the winter, with plans to find a physician in the spring.'
There was an Irish physician named Valentine Greatrackes -- more of a quack, actually -- who supposedly had power to heal simply with the stroke of his hands, without using any medicine whatsoever. John Flamsteed's father, in desperation over his son's health after trying conventional medicine, sent John to Ireland in August, 1665. With astronomical accuracy, John Flamsteed wrote in his autobiography that he was 'nineteen years, six days, and eleven hours old' at that time. He traveled with a friend through Liverpool, where they arrived on Tuesday, waited for favorable weather to sail, and left on a vessel called "Supply" on Friday. Saturday evening, they were in sight of Dublin. But before they landed, they almost wrecked on Lambay Island. Finally they were safely at the shore, but they were quarantined for a few days before they were allowed to come onshore. They got a room at the "Ship" Hotel on Dame Street, and then on Thursday, September 6, they left Dublin and started out for Assaune to see Mr. Greatrackes.
John Flamsteed wrote an interesting account of Ireland in his autobiography. They dined at Naas on the first day, and reached Carlow on Sept 8. He said it was the prettiest town they saw on their trip. They got lost a few times, and reached Castleton -- also called Four Mile Waters -- by Sunday morning. They asked where they might find a church, but the innkeeper said that the minister lived twelve miles away, and only came to preach once a year, when he came to collect his tithes! One local woman who overheard their conversation remarked that 'they had everything they needed in that town except the word of God.' John and his friend traveled on to Cappoquin, near the Blackwater river, on the road to Lismore, eight miles from Youghal, and walked the last mile to Assaune. They visited Mr. Greatrackes and saw him touch several patients. Flamsteed writes, 'some were practically cured, some began to mend, and for some, his strokes had no effect.' He described Mr. Greatrackes as having 'a kind of majestic yet friendly presence, and a composed bearing.' On Sept. 11 it was his turn. The famous quack stroked him, and, unsurprisingly, 'his disease did not stir.' He returned the next day, and the next -- but, even after the third treatment, there was no result. To Mr. Greatracke's credit, he refused to accept payment because Flamsteed was a stranger in town.
There was no use staying any longer, so Flamsteed and his friend started towards Dublin to return home. They traveled through Clonmel, which he described as 'a pleasantly situated town.' In those days when travel through Ireland was a risky thing, Flamsteed was so relieved to be back home after a month away that he wrote, 'God be praised for his care in this journey. Amen.'
What was the result of this trip on his health? He writes, 'The next winter, I was fairly healthy, and my rheumatic condition was not as severe as it had been before. But I don't know whether that was from God's mercy at receiving Mr. Greatrackes' treatment, or my journey and sea sickness. Perhaps both did some good.'
By this time, Flamsteed's interest in astronomy had clearly increased. He studied the construction of sundials, created a catalog of seventy fixed [non-moving] stars and their positions in the sky, and he calculated the exact time of the next projected solar eclipse which was scheduled on June 22, 1666. In his day, astrology was still accepted and believed, and he spent some time on studies and calculations in that subject, too. He started attempting to make predictions, but began to have doubts about astrology. He writes, 'Astrology seemed to give some strong uncertain hunches, but no absolute predictions.'
Meanwhile, he was advancing in more academic details of astronomy. He had painstakingly studied the "obliquity of the ecliptic" [the earth's equatorial rotation axis as it relates to the sun's course; read more on Wikipedia] as well as he could manage with the tools of astronomical observation available to him in that era. He tried to calculate the sun's distance from the earth by determining when the moon was exactly half illuminated, and he came up with accurate measurements of the length of the solar year [also called a tropical year, i.e., from summer solstice to summer solstice, or vernal equinox to vernal equinox; see more on Wikipedia]. Considering his down time due to ill health, John Flamsteed had made remarkable progress by the age of twenty.
He was interested in other branches of astronomy, too. In 1669-70 he compared the planets Jupiter and Mars with some specific fixed stars they passed. The tools he had at that time were imperfect, but he was able to use them to measure the intervals in the sky between the planets and the fixed stars, and, since the positions of the fixed stars were roughly known, he was able to use that data to calculate the positions of Jupiter and Mars. This method of comparing known positions to unknown ones is still the way astronomers determine where planets are located in the heavens. John Flamsteed's equipment didn't enable him to calculate exact measurements, but he was able to show that the charts currently in use at the time had the positions of the planets wrong.
His work in astronomy was beginning to attract attention, and he began to correspond with some distinguished scholars in the field. His predictions about some astronomical events scheduled to happen in 1670 were published. During the moon's monthly orbit, it passes across the stars that are in its path. When the moon passes over and obscures the star from view, the event is called an "occultation." Since the moon is close to the earth (relatively speaking), its position appears to us as if it moves in the sky, so an occultation that was visible from London would not be visible from somewhere else. Or, if the occultation was visible from both locations, it wouldn't be visible to both places at the same time. That makes it tricky to predict where an occultation will be visible at different observation towers. Flamsteed enjoyed these kinds of intricate calculations, so he made predictions about when the occultation of 1670 would be visible from various locations. Nowadays this kind of information is standard in our Nautical Almanac, but there was no such thing two hundred years ago. John Flamsteed sent his calculations to the President of the Royal Society [William Brouncker was president until 1677]. His work was received favorably and brought him to the notice of respected members of the Royal Society, including the mathematician John Collins, who became a personal friend and constant correspondent [a pen pal!]. Flamsteed's father was naturally proud that his son was noticed by such respected scholars and wanted him to go to London to meet some of these famous scientists that he had been corresponding with in person. In this way he became acquainted with Dr. Isaac Barrow, as well as Isaac Newton, who was Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge at the time. This visit led him to enroll at Jesus College, Cambridge, where he got his M.A. degree in June, 1674.
All this time, he had been helping his father in his business. His autobiography makes frequent references to journeys he took on unspecified business. But now it was time to set out on his own career. He intended to enter into holy orders [as a deacon] and take a position in Denby [Derbyshire] that a friend of his father's offered him. But, as Flamsteed put it, 'God's providence designed me for something else.'
Sir Jonas Moore, one of his distinguished scholar friends, was able to get him the position of 'king's astronomer' with a salary of £100 per year. Originally, this position was supposed to have a larger salary, but since Flamsteed had taken holy orders [maybe that comes with a vow of poverty?], a smaller amount was considered sufficient. But the 'king's astronomer' had no observatory.
At that time, the problem of coming up with a way to determine longitude at sea was an important topic all over Europe. A Frenchman named Le Sieur de S. Pierre came to London to explain his own idea for calculating longitude by using the fixed position of the stars. He had letters of recommendation to distinguished people in London and hoped to attract attention. When John Flamsteed understood his project, he pointed out that it couldn't work with the existing methods of astronomy. The exact positions of stars would be necessary, and those hadn't been charted accurately enough yet. Flamsteed's autobiography says, 'I didn't hear any more from the French gentleman after this, but my letters were shown to King Charles II. He was startled to learn that the star positions in the catalogue weren't accurate, and he said vehemently that the catalogue must be corrected. The stars must be observed, examined, and charted accurately so his seamen could use them properly.' Thus, an observatory was needed.
First a site had to be selected. Hyde Park and Chelsea College were both suggested, but Christopher Wren's recommendation was the one finally settled on: Greenwich Hill. King Charles granted £500, some bricks from Tilbury Fort, and wood, iron, and lead from a gatehouse in the Tower that had recently been demolished. He promised to provide whatever else might be needed. The first stone of the Royal Observatory was laid in August, 1675, and the building was finished a few years later. John Flamsteed worked hard to obtain modern astronomical instruments, and to get things set up so he could start making observations. In spite of the King's promises, Flamsteed didn't have much of a budget, and there were no assistants to help him with his work. Observations, reductions [which probably means converting life-sized planetary observations to charts, data, and numbers], and all the maintenance of the observatory had to be done by himself alone. But he had many friends who were willing to lend a hand. Sir Jonas Moore in particular was a big help, as well as a sympathetic and encouraging friend. Flamsteed continued to have bouts of ill health, which interrupted his work. His rheumatic issues 'stuck so close that he could not remove them,' he wrote. He also suffered from severe headaches and other even more serious ailments.
By 1678, his work at the observatory was in full swing. The focus of his study was on the problem of the earth's motion, and he tried to work it out by observing the sun and Venus. But that problem and other studies he was working on were only side projects. His main priority was cataloging the fixed stars. When he started his work, the only available chart of the fixed stars was the one Tycho Brahe had done around 1600. It charted about a thousand stars, but, due to the lack of precise equipment, their positions weren't accurate. The measurements weren't divided precisely, and Tycho had had no telescope, so he had relied on his naked eyes to determine their positions. He didn't have a clock or a micrometer to take exact measurements. Only the most basic knowledge of the correct motions of the heavenly bodies was known to use as a guide. In order to determine the longitude of some principle stars, Tycho had come up with the ingenious idea of measuring the position of Venus as related to the sun during the day when the planet's brightness allowed him to see it without a telescope, and then at night he observed the position of Venus related to the stars.
When Francis Baily published Flamsteed's British Catalogue of Stars [Catalogus Britannicus, published posthumously], he wrote in the introduction, 'Flamsteed's observations, along with other lucky circumstances, began a brilliant, new era for the world. At the same time he was charting the stars, Isaac Newton's powerful mind was also focused on astronomy, and there was a friendly exchange of information between both scientists. Flamsteed's first accurate positions of heavenly bodies, especially of Saturn, helped to further the research of Newton's geometry research. Newton's first edition of the Principia includes an acknowledgment to Flamsteed's aid, although Flamsteed thought the acknowledgment wasn't as ample as it should have been.'
John Flamsteed's observations weren't as accurate as those made in more recent times with superior equipment, but their antiquity gives them a unique perspective. They were calculated to shed understanding on the correct motions of the stars. His work is the origin of all catalogues since, and the naming system he used, although perhaps not as efficient as it could have been, has been adopted by all subsequent astronomers. His work has many errors, which isn't surprising, since much of it deals with detailed numbers. Francis Baily corrected many of the errors himself when he edited Flamsteed's Life and Works. In Flamsteed's later life, he was dealing with so many issues and struggling with so many health challenges, that he didn't have time to devote the care to correcting his calculations. In fact, he made many observations of stars that never even ended up in his British Catalogue! But Baily says, 'when you consider his lack of financial means, his weak health, and the troubles he constantly experienced, the wonder is that he accomplished as much as he did!'
Towards the end of his life, Flamsteed had conflicts with some of his scientific contemporaries. At Isaac Newton's urgent request, he had provided Newton with positions of the moon so that the lunar theory could be verified with observable data. But instead of being grateful for the favour, Newton asked for more data, and seemed to demand the information as a right. They disputed over this, and the letters and documents they exchanged over this matter and subsequent matters don't show either of them in a flattering light.
In 1684, John Flamsteed was ordained. He moved out of the observatory and became the Rector of Burstow. In 1692, at the age of 45, he married Margaret Cooke, the granddaughter of the previous Rector.
In spite of his life-long health issues, Flamsteed lived to the age of seventy three. He died on the very last day of 1719.
[Note: A 2008 BBC webpage, found here, on Derby says that Flamsteed "was furious when Sir Isaac Newton, who regularly used his data for his own studies, grew tired of Flamsteed's insistence on double-checking every detail before allowing his data to be published and rushed out an error-strewn version of the 'Historia Colestis Britannica' in 1712. Feeling deeply betrayed by Newton and Edmund Halley who had edited the volume, Flamsteed spent a small fortune buying up as many copies as he could before publicly burning them at the Royal Observatory. Newton responded by removing all references to Flamsteed from his 'Principia Mathematica' despite the astronomer's huge contribution to the volume.]
[There is a beautiful photo of the original observatory as well as information about Flamsteed's burial place here.]
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