![]() Eclecticism, Opportunism, and the Evolution
by Barbara J. Becker A Dissertation submitted to The Johns Hopkins University
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() CHAPTER 4—PART 2 MARGARET HUGGINS: THE MYTH OF THE 'ABLE ASSISTANT' ![]() ![]() ![]() Celestial Photography In November 1873, J. Norman Lockyer presented an illustrated lecture at the Society of Arts on the application of photography to spectrum analysis. In this talk, he drew attention to the pioneering work being done by two Americans: Lewis M. Rutherfurd and Henry Draper.66 Lockyer assured his audience that the spectral photographs these men had taken would prove to be of great assistance to those who would understand the chemistry and physics of the sun: "I do think we have in photography not only a tremendous ally of the spectroscope, but a part of the spectroscope itself."67 In addition, Lockyer told his audience that he had just received a letter from Draper informing him that after several months of experimentation, he [Draper] had obtained, in August 1872, a photograph of the spectrum of a Lyrae (Vega) which showed four distinct lines.68 "Now that," proclaimed Lockyer, "is of the very highest importance, because the sun is nothing but a star, and the stars are nothing but distant suns."69 A few days after his lecture, Lockyer wrote to congratulate Draper: "However difficult this is the most important thing to be done in the present state of science."70 But Draper was a busy man, and he had other astronomical projects to occupy his observing time: photographing a normal solar spectrum, for example, and planning for the transit of Venus.71 Only after Huggins published his own first paper on photographing stellar spectra in 1876 did Draper make public his own early efforts in this area.72 Lockyer printed the text of his lecture in Nature in the summer of 1874. But Huggins had already heard about Draper's efforts by then. Perhaps he had attended Lockyer's talk, or simply gotten the news by word of mouth. In any event, in February 1874, just before the accident in which he sprained his ankle, Huggins wrote to Draper for advice and to let him know that his attempts were not the first:
Draper's response carried a congenial, but challenging, catch-me-if-you-can tone:
The difficulties to be overcome in prosecuting this line of investigation were numerous, particularly when long exposures were required for faint objects. In 1875, one intrepid astronomical photographer wrote in the British Journal of Photography:
The first paper devoted solely to spectral photography done at Tulse Hill appeared in the Proceedings of the Royal Society in December, 1876, with William Huggins as the author.76 For purposes of priority, Huggins prefaced the paper with the statement, "In the year 1863 Dr. Miller and myself obtained the photograph of the spectrum of Sirius."77 Not only was William Allen Miller an old hand at spectroscopy as we have seen in the last chapter,78 but he was also a skilled photographer.79 During the course of their 1863 investigations, Huggins and Miller twice captured an image of Sirius' spectrum on a wet collodion plate.80 The results had been disappointing: "[T]he spectrum, though tolerably defined at the edges, presented no indications of lines."81 Their attempt to photograph the spectrum of a Aurigae (Capella) resulted in a similar line-less image. Professing at the time to be undaunted by these initial failures, Huggins and Miller remarked: "Our other investigations have hitherto prevented us from continuing these [photographic] experiments further; but we have not abandoned our intention of pursuing them."82 Huggins wished the reader of his 1876 paper to view this newer photographic work on star spectra as a resumption of his work in 1863 with Miller. To establish this connection clearly in the reader's mind, he excerpted the paragraph from the old 1864 Philosophical Transactions paper which described the primitive and disappointing stellar spectra photographs he and Miller had obtained. Where the 1864 excerpt ended with "...we have not abandoned our intention of pursuing [our photographic experiments]," Huggins continued his 1876 paper by stating, "I have recently resumed these experiments...." Thus, he neatly compressed the intervening years into a moment's hesitation. The 1863/1864 Philosophical Transactions and Proceedings papers on stellar spectra contain the only extant record of Huggins' photographic work before 1876 as yet uncovered.83 There is no mention of any photographic work with Miller, or any other photographic experiments anywhere in the sections of the observatory notebooks which date from the early 1860s. It is possible that Miller took the notes, or that the photographs themselves were viewed at the time as the only necessary record. Perhaps the attempt was seen as such a failure that it did not warrant more than a passing comment. Nevertheless, it seems clear that, in spite of their intentions to the contrary, Huggins and Miller did not continue their photographic experiments on stellar spectra. The wet collodion process was not the only method available to photographers in 1863. Miller discussed in considerable detail the principles and practice of such varied photographic processes as Talbotype, Daguerreotype, and chrysotype in the 1860 edition of his textbook, Elements of Chemistry.84 Since Huggins and Miller were attempting something quite new and untested in applying photography to their infant program of observing stellar spectra, it seems reasonable to assume that Miller's previous experience with the wet collodion process in his own spectroscopic research would have made that the process of choice at that time. Throughout the 1860s, photographers were mixing substances like honey, glycerine, and beer with the collodion to prolong the exposure time available to users of wet plates.85 They also experimented with ways of increasing the light sensitivity of various types of dry plates. The gelatine dry plate, a stable photographic plate which, although not as light sensitive as wet collodion, could bear lengthy storage and long or multiple exposures, was introduced in 1871 and quickly improved upon.86 Nevertheless, though Huggins continued his observations of stellar motion in the line of sight in the early 1870s, and made comparisons of nebular spectra with those of various terrestrial metals, he pursued this taxing research using only visual observations. Why was he not motivated to adapt photography to his research needs at that time? In his 1876 paper in the Proceedings, Huggins explained, "Considerable delay [in resuming photographic work] has arisen from the necessity ... of a more uniform motion of the driving-clock."87 This must refer to the problems with the driving clock which Huggins had reported in December 1874.88 A new clockdrive was installed in January 1876, just before William and Margaret Huggins began their program of photographic experimentation.89 Some twenty years later, in 1897, the mechanical problem with his clockdrive a long-forgotten annoyance, Huggins reminisced that he and Miller "did not persevere in our attempts to photograph the stellar spectra" because the available photographic methods were unsuitable for such work. Wet collodion processes, he claimed, were inconvenient and dry plates were not sensitive enough.90 But balky clockdrives and clumsy photographic processes were rhetorical devices in these latter-day accounts -- symbols readily recognizable on the one hand by those few who had made similar efforts themselves as representative of the multitude of technical difficulties pioneers in stellar spectroscopy faced in the decade separating the first visual observations and the first successful photographs of stellar spectra. On the other hand, they served as simple and plausible explanations for the majority of readers who were unfamiliar with the field. That Huggins bothered to give any explanation for his lack of use of photography during this period demonstrates his awareness that some excuse was necessary. Others in London who were actively engaged in celestial photography -- Warren De La Rue and young Captain William de Wiveleslie Abney (1843-1920) of the Royal Engineers, for example -- saw astronomical needs and photographic capabilities as interdependent, one driving the improvement of the other. Huggins' apparent willingness to wait until photographic methods had matured sufficiently to meet the demands of his astronomical research agenda indicates he had either insufficient skill or interest in photography to continue such work independently. While published articles about the early photographic accomplishments at Tulse Hill make no mention of Margaret Huggins, it is clear from the notebooks that Margaret's photographic skill made possible an important shift in the research agenda at Tulse Hill. Many accounts credit Margaret with having learned the basic principles of photography at some time in childhood or adolescence. One close friend went so far as to say that Margaret's skills in photography were self-taught and that she mastered them before she made her spectroscope.91 But how fashionable was it for a young woman in the 1860s to be handling smelly photographic chemicals, or managing cumbersome tripods and other photographic equipment? Recently, Bernard and Pauline Heathcote surveyed the establishment of photographic portrait studios in Britain in the mid-nineteenth century. Of the 750 individuals engaged in portrait photography between 1841 and 1855, 22 were women.92 The number of women who achieved some degree of renown for their work during the early history of photography was small, but not inconsequential.93 Queen Victoria was an early patron of the Photographic Society of London. This royal enthusiasm for photography may have encouraged women with both the leisure and the financial means to experiment with the emerging art form. By 1873, one-third of all photographic assistants were women. One observer at the time expressed hope that this ratio might soon increase to one-half: "It is an occupation exactly suited to the sex."94 Margaret's interest in photography identifies her as one of an adventurous group of young women of her day. The Reverend Edward Bradley, writing under the penname of "Cuthbert Bede," advertised photography as the ideal entree for a young lady into the science of chemistry. Remarkable effects could be produced with little or no understanding of basic chemical principles. At the same time, it was socially acceptable for such activity to form the basis of polite, if somewhat "mystical" ballroom conversation. Bradley cautioned his readers that experimentation with photography had its inherent risks. He illustrated this with a humorous engraving which depicted one mother's anxious visit to the chemist's shop after a photographic mishap left black chemical stains on her daughter's face (see Figure 29). In the caption, the mother explained to Mr. Squills, the chemist:
Figure 29. The perils of photographic experimentation (from "Bede," Photographic Pleasures, opposite page 50). Photographic work at that time was a complex and often frustrating activity even for those with experience and considerable skill. In fact, until the 1880s when ready-made photographic plates became widely available, few were prepared to invest the time, money and energy required to make photography an avocation. While the facts behind Margaret's training in photography remain unclear, there is sufficient evidence available in the laboratory notebooks to demonstrate that her practical and technical photographic expertise was considerable by early 1876, when she assumed the task of making the notebook entries. Margaret's first entry in the notebooks was made on 31 March 1876 (see Figure 30). She wrote:
Figure 30. Margaret Huggins' first notebook entries (from Notebook 2, the Huggins Collection, Whitin Observatory, Wellesley College). The next entry, on 3 April states:
Nearly every entry thereafter contains some mention of photographic work. The process employed at the start was wet collodion, although the entry for 7 May notes a comparison of the wet and dry process. Margaret reported:
Here we see her first use of the first person, a practice which could be attributed to the fact that she was merely transcribing her husband's personal notes about the work that was done. There is no way to check this independently, and it cannot be ruled out as a possibility.99 However, by December 1876, Margaret was using the first person plural along with impersonal predicate phrases and sentences in the first person singular. In July 1879, Margaret began to use the initial "W" to single out her husband's contribution to the work at hand, while she referred clearly to her own work in the first person singular.100 Margaret's entries soon reveal her interest in experimental design. On 9 May 1876, for example, she wrote that she "took one or two photographs of Solar spectrum with a view to determining how wide I might open the slit and still obtain lines."101 By June, she was demonstrating her expertise in improving and adapting both instruments and methods to the new photographic tasks at hand:
Figure 31. Margaret Huggins' new design for a camera (from Notebook 2, the Huggins Collection, Whitin Observatory, Wellesley College). The entire summer of 1876 seems to have been devoted to experimentation with different types of light sensitive plates. The last mention of the use of wet collodion was made on 17 August. After that, only dry or gelatine plates were used. By December 1876, plates -- all gelatine -- were identified only by their manufacturer. Margaret also made substantial improvements to the observatory's equipment which moved the Hugginses quickly into the forefront of spectroscopic astrophotography. Even early on, she demonstrated her knack for innovation and interest in experiment. On 19 September 1876, Margaret wrote:
As the years went by, Margaret continued to take the initiative whenever photography was employed at Tulse Hill. Her interest in problem selection, for example, comes out in a note she added to a letter her husband wrote to David Gill in 1879:
By 1887, she was sufficiently confident in her own interpretive skills to note, "I cannot feel sure there is anything on the nebula plate but William fancies there is. Well if there be anything it's practically useless it's so faint."105 In 1888, her interest turned from obtaining photographs of nebulae to photographs of their spectra. After receiving a photograph of the Andromeda Nebula from Isaac Roberts, the Liverpool building contractor and celestial photographer par excellence, Margaret exclaimed:
Following some initial unsuccessful trials in her quest for the Nebula's soul led her to suggest keeping the photographic plate in over several nights to collect sufficient light: "I persuaded W[illiam] to gently close the shutter and leave the plate in the camera to go on with the next fine night."107 By 1893, if not before, she had her own ideas about what counted as a quality photograph and what was required to obtain one:
The Chief Nebular Line Roughly four years separated the Hugginses' first recorded attempts at spectral photography in 1876 and the beginning of 1880 when they began trying to secure a photograph of the spectrum of the Orion Nebula. During that interval, Margaret and William became acclimated to working together. At the same time, they expended considerable time and energy learning photography's limitations, molding its capabilities to match their astronomical research agenda, and testing new emulsions for sensitivity, stability and reliability. In the decade which followed, the Hugginses were engaged in two principal efforts: the first involved their attempts to photograph the solar corona without an eclipse; the second centered on their interest in examining different nebulae to resolve the nature of what came to be known as the "chief nebular line," a green emission line which William had noted some years earlier in the spectra of several nebulae.109 This line is located tantalizingly close to, but not precisely coincident with, spectral lines associated with several terrestrial elements. Margaret contributed actively to both of these research projects and both projects embroiled the Hugginses in controversy over methods, instruments and interpretation of received data. I shall turn to the problem of the solar corona in chapter 6, but here, I shall focus on the Hugginses' efforts to determine the nature of the principal nebular line. This project grew out of their visual and photographic observations of the spectrum of the Orion Nebula (M42), observations which occupied them briefly in the early 1880s, and to which they returned with some interest in March 1887, but even greater passion in October 1888. The results of these observations formed the basis of the first paper on which Margaret Huggins appeared as co-author.110 As such, this paper, which appeared in 1889, serves as a benchmark in the Hugginses' collaborative relationship.101 I have examined the notebook entries made by Margaret and William Huggins from October 1888 through April 1889 when the research for their paper on the spectrum of the Orion Nebula was being performed. A comparison of the notebook records with the presentation of this same research in the published paper brings to light Margaret's role in this particular research effort. It also provides some clues as to why this work and not some other was chosen as their first joint publication. On 12 October 1888, Margaret described their plans to begin work comparing the spectrum of magnesium with that of a nebula:
J. Norman Lockyer, whom we have met in earlier chapters was, in 1888, editor of Nature, a weekly science journal he had founded in 1869. He was also professor of astronomy at the Normal School of Science (later the Royal College of Science) at South Kensington, and member of the Committee on Solar Physics.113 By this time, he had become an arch-rival of William Huggins. Their clash of personal style coupled with the similarity of their research interests had long since placed them on a collision course. The issue of the identity of the chief nebular line provided one more opportunity for them to meet head-on. Early that year, in April 1888, Lockyer had delivered the Royal Society's annual Bakerian Lecture. In it, he enunciated his current views on the structure and evolution of the universe, views based on considerable spectroscopic examination of meteorites in his laboratory at South Kensington in comparison with the spectra of various types of celestial bodies. Lockyer bound these views into a unified whole, which he called the "meteoritic hypothesis." He contended that all celestial bodies were comprised of swarms of meteors in various stages of evolutionary development.114 According to Lockyer, the heat generated by collisions of large numbers of meteors in space made them incandescent. Varying numbers and intensities of these collisions were responsible for the individual differences observed in the population of known nebulae. Lockyer was encouraged in this view by his observation that when magnesium, an element common to meteors, was brought to a sufficiently high temperature, a line appeared in its spectral signature which was virtually coincident with that of the chief nebular line (see Figures 32a and 32b).115 Figure 32a. Spectra of Nebulae compared with the spectra of hydrogen, cool magnesium, and meteorite glow [from J. Norman Lockyer, "Researches on the Spectra of Meteorites," Proc. Roy. Soc. 43 (1887): 134]. Figure 32b. Comparison of visible magnesium spectrum with that of nebula [from Huggins and Huggins, "On the Spectrum of the Great Nebula in Orion," Proc. Roy. Soc. 46 (1889): 50]. William Huggins, on the other hand, considered the nebulae to be gaseous. When Huggins first observed the chief nebular line in 1864, he suggested that its proximity to a known line of nitrogen indicated the possibility that nebulae contained some exotic form of that element.116 Subsequent observation dissuaded him of this view, however, and by 1889, he and Margaret were of the opinion that nebulae might be composed of some new, and as yet undiscovered material.117 Hence, they were inclined to argue that the nebular line, while very close, was distinct from that of any associated with magnesium. In order to gather conclusive evidence in support of their view, the Hugginses set out to compare several nebular spectra with that of burning magnesium. Much of the persuasive value of Huggins' reports in the past stemmed from the fact that his apparatus was designed to permit direct comparisons of telescopic and laboratory spectra. To conduct this particular investigation to the Hugginses' satisfaction required the spectrum observed through their telescope to be perfectly aligned with that of the comparison apparatus. Margaret and William achieved this alignment by making use of the magnesium b band, the closely spaced series of Fraunhofer lines in the green part of the solar spectrum. They matched up the bright emission lines in the b band of the laboratory spectrum with the dark absorption lines of the daytime sky. Both William and Margaret considered this calibration to be of critical importance and they took much care in its execution. As Margaret explained:
Throughout the fall and winter, the Hugginses directed their attention to the problem of the nebular line comparison. In February 1889, William began keeping a separate record of his own observations in an old notebook.119 The occasional overlap in their notebook entries during this period provides sparse but valuable insight into their individual research interests, methods and concerns. On 6 March, after a number of visual observations and one attempt to secure a photograph of the nebular spectrum in direct comparison with that of burning magnesium, William drew a sketch of what he had observed. With the crosswire centered on the magnesium line, the chief nebular line appeared to him to be just a bit to the left, or more refrangible side of the magnesium line.120 In Margaret's 6 March entry, she mentioned that they were thinking of sending a paper to the Royal Society about their work. To that end, they rechecked the calibration of their apparatus on 9 March.
William's own 9 March entry makes no mention of the recalibration, but rather concentrates again on confirming his previous observation of the placement of the nebular line in comparison with that of magnesium.122 Two days later, Margaret wrote that the calibration was checked once again:
In spite of the care they had taken earlier in calibrating their instruments, Margaret noticed that the telescopic spectrum was no longer coincident with that of the comparison apparatus. Although William was initially unable to confirm her observation, she felt "certain" of it. William apparently became convinced of the alignment problem on the night of 11 March, and remarked casually in his notebook entry that "this state of adjustment is satisfactory for comparison of nebulae, and can be allowed for."124 While William may not have been aware of it at the time, Margaret's discovery of the lack of alignment in the comparison apparatus averted what would have been for him an unspeakable calamity.125 William's constant references in his published papers to the care and accuracy of his observations were underscored by his use of four significant digits in reporting his results. If the reliability of the Hugginses' 1888/1889 data was ever brought into question, it would have meant not only the loss of the debate with Norman Lockyer on the question of the chief nebular line, but it would have damaged William Huggins' credibility in the wider community of astronomers as well. By the time the Hugginses recognized the misalignment, the season for observing the Orion Nebula was coming to an end. There was no time to recalibrate the instruments and take chances on the weather providing enough clear nights to make a second set of observations. Besides, their only successful photograph had been taken just a week before the misalignment was discovered. Difficulties in getting good photographs of the nebular spectrum had already persuaded them to abandon further photographic attempts for the moment and concentrate their energies on visual comparisons.126 Still, the importance of having some photographic evidence to support their visual observations was uppermost in the Hugginses' minds.127 Thus, based on Margaret's confidence that their spectroscope was "not shifty," and, hence, that the observed disparity was constant over all their observations, the paper came to be written based on data acquired when the instruments were ever-so-slightly out of alignment. The separation between the nebular line and that attributed to magnesium was clearly small. In spite of the slight displacement of their equipment which reduced the separation of these lines even more, both Margaret and William were confident they each had observed it. This, Margaret believed, added even greater strength to their argument. She noted:
In their paper on the spectrum of the Great Nebula in Orion, the Hugginses artfully converted this potentially disastrous turn of events into a forceful argument in favor of their view on the nebular line. They perfunctorily declared the serendipitous misalignment to be a purposeful one -- a conscious instrumental adjustment made as part of an experimental design chosen to give their opponents every conceivable advantage:
The day after submitting the paper to the Royal Society, William wrote with almost smug confidence to Charles A. Young at Princeton:
But, a few days later, Huggins' confident façade was temporarily shattered when, in several separate comparisons of another nebula's spectrum against that of magnesium, he found the "end of Mg band, came almost exactly, or very dangerously near the place where I had put the neb. line."131 A very worried William Huggins hastily penned a postcard to Young with the distressful message: "I have just made some observations which may lead me to greatly modify, the statements I made about Mg. Please burn the letter I sent you. I will explain in a few days." Margaret kept no records during this period, and William only described the events in retrospect after he had finally satisfied himself that his original conclusions were correct: "During the first half of the observations, I felt no doubt in my mind, but I was greatly disturbed by the later observations.... If the obsers. had been measures, and a mean taken the result would have been quite satisfactory."132 A calmer, much relieved Huggins sent yet another note to Young hoping to reconstruct the façade: "I was too hasty in sending you the post card. It was an moments hestitation only, & the results are more satisfactory than before. All I said in the letter you may accept as my views."133 Nevertheless, the Hugginses apparently could not shake their insecurity as they awaited the reading of their paper before the Royal Society on 2 May. On 23 and 24 April, Huggins recorded another round of checks on their observations. Once again, "Madge compared very carefully," he wrote as he finally declared himself "satisfied" that the b band of the comparison magnesium spectrum was not coincident with the chief nebular line.134 "I have added the name of Mrs. Huggins...." Margaret and William had been working together as a team for over thirteen years when this, their first co-authored paper appeared in the Royal Society's Proceedings. In published accounts of previous investigations in which Margaret had been an active participant, William had neither noted her presence in the observatory nor credited her numerous contributions. Given William's awareness of this particular paper's potential for stimulating controversy, he might have introduced Margaret on a gentler slope.135 In this section, I shall discuss a few reasons why the Hugginses may have chosen to submit their first co-authored paper on the challenging question of the chief nebular line. In the paper's introduction, we find Huggins' public explanation: "I have added the name of Mrs. Huggins to the title of the paper, because she has not only assisted generally in the work, but has repeated independently the delicate observations made by eye."136 These "delicate observations" required making repeated direct visual comparisons of the spectrum generated by burning magnesium in the laboratory against that produced by a nebula. The brilliance of the burning magnesium was blinding while the faint light of the nebulae tested the limits of human visual sensitivity. Thus, the observations were exhausting ones. In her notebook entries, Margaret complained that the dazzling light of the burning magnesium tired her eyes "even with dark glasses."137 She worried about her observations' reliability under these conditions. Always working as collaborative partners during each observing session, Margaret and William served alternately as observer and apparatus tender to allow fatigued eyes to rest without interrupting the course of the evening's investigation. While William may have been able to overlook Margaret's earlier contributions, these efforts would have been harder to ignore. In a different vein, William may have wanted to add Margaret's name to this particular paper in order to diffuse or even deflect blame should a problem arise when others tried to replicate their observations. The need to prevent such an embarrassing situation is likely to have been on his mind at the time he and Margaret were preparing their paper on the chief nebular line for publication. In January 1889, just a few months before the Hugginses submitted their paper on the chief nebular line, Norman Lockyer, as part of his effort to find additional observational support for his meteoritic hypothesis, reviewed the existing literature on cometary spectra.138 This led him to question the accuracy of a diagram William Huggins had included in a paper written a number of years earlier on Comet b, 1881.139 It turns out that Margaret had drawn the diagram. Feeling the need to defend her illustration, if only to herself, Margaret added the following comment to her original notebook entry made in June 1881:
Meanwhile, William wrote to George Stokes:
I would propose it was useful to have Margaret in a more visible position this time to help shoulder the burden of proof should Lockyer eventually turn up some damning evidence to counter their nebular line work. Today, it is tempting, but probably mistaken, to suggest that her co-authorship was the consequence of her husband's pioneering support of women engaged in scientific work. That this is so can be seen in William Huggins' reaction in November 1906, to the news that Hertha Ayrton, a pioneer in the investigation of such disparate phenomena as electric arcs and sand ripples, had just been voted the recipient of the prestigious Hughes Medal at a meeting of the Royal Society's Council, a meeting from which he had been absent.142 It seems that Margaret Huggins, whether out of innocent concern for her husband's well-being, or personal interest in the outcome of the Council's vote, assessed William's health on the day of the meeting and judged him too ill to attend. Given the turn of events, Huggins regretted having missed his opportunity to vote in opposition to the award. He complained to Joseph Larmor, the Society's Secretary:
William Huggins preferred ladies who pursued scientific interests to women who sought scientific recognition. Sufficient documentation survives to permit an enumeration of some of the factors which may have encouraged William to include Margaret as co-author of this particular paper. Certainly it seemed to require extraordinary circumstances to draw his attention to the value of her contributions to the research they did together. In this instance, an array of extraordinary factors came together to push William over the conventional brink. Nevertheless, the transition from sole author to co-author was a difficult one for William Huggins. After all, it had been twenty-five years since he was last in that role. We see evidence of his struggle in a letter to George Stokes written a few weeks after the paper's submission to the Royal Society. In his letter, Huggins described the "labourious & anxious task" of directly comparing the spectrum of burning magnesium with that of a nebula. But this difficult work, he told Stokes, "I and Mrs. Huggins, who is now a very trained observer of such things have done to the utmost of our ability, and with the greatest possible care."144 Thus, he justified having included Margaret's name on the paper, while at the same time he effectively created the impression that she had only recently become an able participant in the spectrographic work at Tulse Hill, an impression which, as we have seen, is not supported by evidence in the notebooks. The image of Margaret as a subordinate rather than a collaborative partner is more clearly projected in the published paper itself, which is written principally in the first person singular. The first person plural is used less than twenty times in twenty pages, and nearly half of the time it connotes a more general usage. Margaret is referred to twice by name when her independent corroborations of William's observations are noted. However, it should be pointed out that no specific statement is made concerning the nature or quality of these confirmatory observations even though the paper cites the details of corroborating evidence supplied by several other astronomers. Even more important, no attention is ever drawn to her methodological or interpretive contributions. Changing one's accustomed mode of expression takes time, and subsequent papers co-authored by the Hugginses do show an increased use of the first person plural. But, certainly, the reader of this first co-authored paper who was unfamiliar with the degree of Margaret's involvement in the research effort would have had no reason to assume her role to have been anything more than titular. ![]() ![]() ![]() William and Margaret Huggins lived and worked together for thirty-five years as complementary collaborative investigative partners. This new interpretation of their working relationship differs from that presented in the published record and reminiscent accounts. Given the rich store of extant primary source material providing insight into their lives and work, why has the full extent of their collaboration only recently come to light? Why has the image of William as the principal investigator and Margaret as his able, but subordinate, assistant persisted for so many years? It may be argued that the correspondence is too widely scattered, or that the notebooks are not readily accessible to the historian wishing to examine these documents in tandem with the more visible and available published record. These are indeed serious obstacles. But, there is a more formidable barrier which must be overcome, and that is the power of the Hugginses' historical image itself. The traditional and romanticized image of the Hugginses' collaborative efforts is largely their own creation. It has endured because it has been verified and amplified by the published accounts, and because it has fitted the needs and expectations of those who have retold the tale. William and Margaret worked hard to present themselves as classic representations of Ruskin's ideal Victorian couple:
The strength of this legendary image is captured in the photograph of William seated alone beside his star spectroscope. The absence of Margaret is telling. In October 1910, after the death of her husband, Margaret Huggins wrote to Joseph Larmor, his former friend and confidante:
Here we catch her in a rare moment of candor which offers us a brief glimpse of her own longing for recognition as a scientific lady. ![]() ![]() ![]() NOTES
|
![]() |
|
|
|
|
|
|
William Huggins' Early Astronomical Career |
|
Unlocking the "Unknown Mystery of the True Nature of the Heavenly Bodies" |
The Astronomical Agenda: 1830-1870 |
|
"A sudden impulse..." |
|
Reception of Spectrum Analysis Applied to the Stars |
|
|
Moving in the Inner Circle |
Cultivating Advantageous Alliances; Opportunism and Eclecticism |
|
Opportunism and Eclecticism (continued) |
|
Achieving "A mark of approval and confidence" |
|
|
Margaret Huggins: The myth of the "Able Assistant" |
The Solitary Observer |
|
|
Celestial Photography |
|
Diversity and Controversy: Defining the Boundaries of Acceptable Research |
|
Solar Observations at Tulse Hill |
The Red Flames |
|
The Eclipse Expedition to Oran |
|
Photographing the Corona Without an Eclipse |
|
The Bakerian Lecture |
|
![]() |