Tyco Brahe digitised - notes on a recent digitisation project at the library of University of Southern Denmark

Although I no longer work at the university library of University of Southern Denmark, I have a backlog of things to write and talk about regarding my work there, other projects, and of course the wonderful fragments and books from their special collections. This blogpost is one such blogpost, and it is more an announcement than a blogpost in itself.

 

RARA L 31
Syddansk Universitetsbibliotek

While I was finishing my own work at the library, there was another project that came to its close and was indeed finished. This was the digitisation of three books by Tyco Brahe that are found in the special collection, and one owned by Roskilde monastery. These books are Epistolarum astronomicarum libri primus, Historia coelestis, and, from Roskilde, De Nova Stella. This project was led and executed by astronomer Majken B. E. Christensen, research librarian Jakob Povl Holck, and astronomer and head librarian Bertil F. Dorch.

 

 
The project has made all these three books available for download in Pdf format, and an overview of the project can be found here (in Danish, but with links to the digitised copies) and also here (in Danish). This digitisation has allowed for primary sources to be freely available, and it has also served as a great first step in the digitisation of the material from the special collection, which will hopefully result in the digitisation of fragments and entire books from the throve of historically significant gems found in the library.

RARA L 31, col. 1

Syddansk Universitetsbibliotek

 
I was also able to contribute in a small way, since the fragment that was used as a binding to the edition of Epistolarum astronomicarum was one of the fragments I had been researching. I was asked to write a short description of the fragment, and this description (in Danish) can be found here. For those not fluent in Danish, I will summarise the key points of this manuscript here.


The fragment is cut vertically from a liturgical manuscript of uncertain date and provenance (though because it was printed and bound in Denmark it is likely that the manuscript has been used in either Denmark or Norway). The original manuscript was a breviary, and the fragment contains texts for the office for Sundays in the summer season. This can be seen from the indication in the picture above, which points to "in primo nocturno antiphoni", or the antiphons for the first nocturne. This is preceded by a hymn that has traditionally - though probably erroneously - been ascribed to Gregory the Great (d.604). This hymn has a complicated history, but that might be a subject for a future blogpost.  

 RARA L 31

Syddansk Universitetsbibliotek

 

The Transit of Venus

While I'm writing this the planet of Venus passes between the earth and the sun and can be seen as a dark speck against the sun's surface for those who have the right equipment. This astronomical phenomenon is called the transit of Venus and it occurs with a distinct regularity. The last time this happened was in 2004 and the next transit will be in 105 years' time. I am myself no astronomer and will refrain from going into details about the technical aspects, but I consider this a good excuse to commemorate one of the most important astronomers in the discipline's history.

In 1639 Jeremiah Horrocks (1618-41) discovered that despite what the planetary tables of Copernicus, Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler predicted there would be a transit of Venus on November 24 that year. Aside from proving the previous tables wrong the event showed that despite Tycho Brahe's postulation, the planets are not self-luminous objects. Despite his groundbreaking discoveries Horrocks was largely forgotten until the publication of two treatises in 1662. The transit of Venus was described in Venus in sole vista where Horrocks had jotted down a brief occasional poem. I will post it here in commemoration of Jeremiah Horrocks and his importance in the history of astronomy.

Thy return

Posterity shall witness; years must roll

Away, but then at length the splendid sight

Again shall greet our distant children's eyes.

Jeremiah Horrocks recording the transit of Venus, painted by J. W. Lavender in 1903

That Man may stare himself beyond Significance

We find, therefore, under this orderly arrangement, a wonderful symmetry in the universe, and a definite relation of harmony in the motion and magnitude of the orbs, of a kind that is not possible to obtain in any other way.

- The Harmonies of the World, Johannes Kepler

God hath made stars the foil

To set off virtues;
- The Foil, George Herbert

Two things fill the mind with ever-increasing wonder and awe, the more often and the more intensely the mind of thought is drawn to them: the starry heavens above me and the moral law within me.

- Critique of Practical Reason, Immanuel Kant

Half-sequestered among trees and bushes, situated by one of the pathways through Yorkshire Museum Garden lies the York Observatory, an unostentatious, almost timid little building of octagonal shape. I first became aware of its existence several weeks after my arrival by more or less stumbling across it on a day I happened to walk that middle pathway running past the observatory. I remember being taken aback a bit by my discovery since it blends very well in with its surroundings, chiefly due to its stone having the same colours as the neighbouring trees. An equally unostentatious note in the window heralded quietly and shyly that the observatory was open every Saturday from 11.30 a.m. to 02.00 p.m., and I think this note sparked an immediate interest. However, I came to spend my Saturdays elsewhere during my stay, either because I would sleep long or because my attention would be directed elsewhere, and it is important to remember here just how unpresuming and plain this building really is, for how else dare I account for my neglect something as awe-inspiring as an observatory? Consequently it took me until one of the last weeks of my stay to pop by, and also this was by pure chance. I was on my way back from the post office and in passing I noticed that the observatory was open and I went in. 

  A road diverging into the middle and the lower path. Beyond the little lamp-post by the middle track, nestled among trees and evergreens lies the York Observatory.

Considering how awesome the subject and purpose of an observatory is, stepping inside this huddled building was a bit anticlimactic, both due to its modest size and the rather palpable lack of enthusiam prevalent in the blank stares of its staff. The Observatory is apparently first and foremost a science museum displaying a range of instruments from the early modern and modern period, although I did learn at a much later stage that the telescope is actually functioning and open for the public to utilise. Somehow this eluded me, yet during my very brief stay I noticed some interesting microscopes and found the exhibition to be enjoyable. 

  From left to right: revolving stage microscope from the 18th century, swift "paragon" binocular microscope from the early 20th century, Collins Mineralogists microscope from the 19th century.

"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see -
But microscopes are prudent
In an emergency.
- Emily Dickinson

The conception of the York Observatory took place at the first meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, which was hosted in 1831 by Yorkshire Philosophical Society. The structure was completed in the winter of 1832-33 and its designer may have been William Wilkins, whereas the roof is believed to have been designed by John Smeaton who is more famous for Eddystone Lighthouse. The cost of the project was £300, an investment it took six years for the Yorkshire Philosophical Society to recover from, but which proved most auspicious when Halley's Comet came around in 1835 and an eclipse of the sun occurred the consecutive year. 

 

The telescope above, a refractor telescope, was crafted by Thomas Cooke of York in 1850, but already in 1844 the Observatory was presented with a transit telescope that allowed for great accuracy in measuring the position of the stars. In 1858 the Observatory was refurbished and in the same year Donati's comet could be beheld. During the 20th century the building was for a long period neglected and out of use, but Yorkshire Philosophical Society raised enough money for its restoration in 1981.

York Observatory is another of the numerous little gems tucked away in this marvellous city and although it is in many ways humble and seemingly insignificant, it has its profound value. I just hope that one day I will come across some event held here where I may try the telescope of Thomas Cooke and stare myself beyond significance.