Creighton University

Amongst the many fine instruments with which the generosity of John A. Creighton, our great benefactor, had enriched the scientific departments of Creighton University in 1884, there was a large telescope made by J. H. Steward and Co. of London. The lens had a clear aperture of five inches and focal length of eighty-four inches. The tube was mounted equatorially and was provided with a driving clock, graduated circles, clamps and slow motion screws on both axes; and it had one terrestrial, and one diagonal, and five astronomical eyepieces, and a helioscope. The whole instrument was mounted upon a stout brass column, and this again upon an oak tripod, which in its turn stood upon an oak base provided with three pairs of large castors. The total weight was considerably over two hundred pounds. The telescope was kept in a room especially designed for it in the new chemical laboratory which had been erected during the preceding winter. A double door on the outside afforded the only access to this room, the inner partition walls having been purposely unprovided with doors in order to prevent the injurious action of chemical fumes.

On Steward's bill of December 21, 1883 the cost of the telescope is put down as 105 pounds, or about 525 dollars.On May 31, 1884 the driving clock is marked at 20 pounds or 100 dollars.

At this time, that is in 1884, no idea of an observatory, or even of a permanent position for the telescope, was entertained by the College authorities. The instrument had been purchased rather for occasional, popular, and educational rather than for continuous technical use, as was the custom then and is most probably even now in similar institutions of learning. As such the Creighton telescope was a large one in its day, and would not be outclassed in this respect even at present.

With Father Joseph Rigge's arrival in Omaha on August 21, 1885, affairs began to take a turn. He saw at once that rolling the large and heavy telescope out upon the ground at a distance from the tall college building, was not only very injurious to the instrument itself, but also very prohibitive to the observer. He therefore designed to give the instrument a permanent mounting, so that its circles and driving clock, which had thus far been only expensive and unusable ornaments, could be made to serve to their full advantage. A brick foundation under the tripod and a shed with a removable roof would have satisfied his desires. Father Dowling, however, pronounced such a paltry mounting as unworthy of the dignity of Creighton College. He therefore "properly approached" Mr. Creighton upon the matter, with the result that the latter promised to contribute towards the erection of a fifteen-foot brick round house with a revolving hemispherical dome, to cost about $1200.

Action was then very prompt, so that as early as October 6 the foundations were dug for the house and for a central pier six feet deep. By December 17 the building was practically finished, although it was not until the sixth of the following May that the telescope was mounted upon the pier. This pier was one massive block of stone in the shape of a truncated pyramid, six feet high. At the level of the floor it was three feet eight inches square, and it tapered to eighteen inches square at the top. It was capped by a cast iron bed plate one inch thick, so that the brass column under the telescope, the bed plate and the stone pier were all firmly bolted together. A short experience, however, showed at once that the roper of the pier prevented the telescope from being directed to stars directly overhead. The instrument was then dismounted, the east face of the stone was cut down vertically to within fifteen inches of the floor, and the telescope set up again by the beginning of June. Later on when the driving clock was attached, a vertical well had to be cut on the west side to allow the weights to descend.

In the meantime, on February 7, 1886, Mr. John A. McShane had offered a thousand dollars for the purchase of a clock, a chronograph and the necessary electric outfit. The clock seas bought from the Howard Clock Co. of Boston for 500 dollars, and is yet one of the best of its kind. It is today as bright and as serviceable is on July 6, 1886, the may that it arrived. It runs eight days, and is driven by two independent weights, each of which, in addition to a maintaining spring, drives the clock while the other is being wound up. It has a 24-hour dial, and breaks an electric circuit every even second, omitting, however, for the sake of identification the 58th second of every minute, and also, if one so desires, the last 20 seconds of every five minutes.

The chronograph was purchased from Fauth & Co.. Washington, D. C., for $150. It consists of a cylinder about seven inches in diameter, and fifteen inches long, covered with a sheet of paper and rotated with uniform speed once or twice a minute by clock work of its own. A fountain pen, attached to the armature of an electromagnet through which the current from the clock is flowing, draws a spiral line on the paper, so that this line is notched every even second by the breaking of the circuit. When any sudden event, such as the beginning and end of an eclipse, the transit of a star across a thread in the field of view of the telescope, and the like, is to be recorded, the observer presses an electric key in his hand, and in so doing makes an additional notch on the chronograph. Measurement of the distance of this notch from a clock mark then gives the second and the fraction of the second. Two clocks may also be allowed to record their times simultaneously and automatically with all the precision one could wish. In fact the Western Union Telegraph Company sent the bears of the clock of the Naval Observatory in Washington, D. C., en our Observatory on every week day at 11 A. M., from January, 1887 to about the end of 1894. The cost was seventy- five dollars a year paid in advance, with no rebate when the signals did not come, which happened very often. This expensive luxury is now relegated to the scrap heap since the invention of wireless.

uly 27, 1886 was a red-letter dry in me life, for on that day I received permission to avail myself of the generous offer made me by Father Dowling and my brother to revisit Omaha after an absence of five years, to see with my own eyes all the wondrous scientific instruments of which 1 had heard so much, and, since my brother should not return until August 27, to superintend the setting tip of the clock amid the chronograph and to adjust and use the big telescope. It seas not, however, until August 14 at 8:15 P M. that I could actually arrive.

As I had less poetic than mathematical blood in my veins, I did not care so much for looking through the telescope at the wonders of the heavens as I did for finding the latitude and longitude of the place. Not knowing how serviceable the Omaha theodolite would be for my purpose, I brought a reflecting circle along with me from Chicago in order to find the time and the latitude. The longitude J hoped to obtain from a series of occultations, that is, eclipses of stars by the moon, which was to take place shortly after midnight on August 22, and the elements of which I had computed in advance.

I found the theodolite in usable condition. This instrument, which is listed as costing forty pounds or $200, had seven-inch horizontal and vertical circles reading to ten seconds, a reversible axis, a compass, striding and surveyor's levels, a diagonal and a terrestrial eyepiece, and field illumination for night work. The field of view contained one horizontal, five vertical and two diagonal wires. It had been designed by the maker, Steward of London, to serve for both terrestrial and astronomical purposes, and as was then generally the case, while it had the bate essentials for both uses, it procured them at the price of many inconveniences and some absurdities. Thus the weight of forty-two pounds on its mahogany tripod did not meet favor with surveyors, while its axis of soft brass instead of steel, its eccentric striding level, its one support only for its field lamp, and the like, made it in fact little more than a practice instrument for an astronomical student. To add to these defects, then, to my mind, unpardonable mistake had been made by somebody -- I am glad I do not know his name -- of letting this heavy instrument stand on its tripod on an oiled floor, with its stumpy feet, and without any provision pre preventing their spreading. The consequence was what should have been easily foreseen, it fell down on the floor. It was sent to an instrument maker to be repaired. This man deserves all praise for his work, but as he was never asked to regraduate the circles, their readings are not reliable.

However, as no astronomer takes far granted that his instrument is perfect or will remain so, the Steward theodolite, or altazimuth, as it should technically be called, nobly redeemed itself. Its errors, or rather its constants, were all determined, and with these known, it became practically a perfect instrument. A post was planted just outside of the Observatory and provided with a small board as a table top and as a support for the altazimuth. On the third night after my arrival adjustments and observations began.

The next morning, August 18, the Howard Clock man cause and set up the clock on the two large cast iron pipes in the round house west of the telescope. The chronograph was mounted on a table between the clock and the south entrance. On the 21st seven wires were strung from a curved beam on the Observatory to the top of the window in the college which is now the north door to the northeast classroom on the third floor of the main building, so that the necessary batteries could be kept in the college basement especially in the winter time, and connection could be established with the city and the outside world.

On the night of August 20 I tried to begin my program of observations with the altazimuth. But is the wind insisted on blowing out the tiny lard oil lamp I had to rise for field illumination, I was forced to give up much dispirited.

In searching through the house I at last found a solitary coal oil lamp which, strange to say, Steward had sent to be used with his binocular microscope. Its chimney was me three pieces. It was commandeered into service. It was supported on a high chair and a box so as not to touch the theodolite or its post, and it had to illuminate the field, the chronometer, and the notebook, and the whole contrivance had to be moved about according as the telescope of the altazimuth was turned or reversed.

On the night of the 22nd 1 could begin in earnest. The altazimuth was first put into the meridian by the transits of four stars, and then turned at right angles to it in the prime vertical for Gamma and Nu Gygni. This method of finding the latitude is the very best for a small instrument After midnight until 3 o'clock seven of the predicted occultations were observed and three missed. Mr. Mars faithfully helped me all through the night, and noted the times on the chronometer.

This chronometer was a regular ship chronometer. It was made by H. H. Hemrich and numbered by him 502. It was bought second hand from John Baumer in Omaha for 5200. It beat half seconds and ran fifty-six hours. It was and is yet an excellent time keeper.

On the following two nights, and on the 10th also, the observations were continued. The average of 19 determinations gave a latitude of 41 16' 1 0" .7. This was only 5." 1 larger than subsequent observations made it with a much superior instrument surrounded with all modern conveniences. This error, which is most gratifyingly small in view of the circumstances, amounts to a distance of 515 feet, which is equal to that now between the south fronts of the faculty building and the gymnasium, or between the west wall of the auditorium and the front retaining wall on 24th street.

That I was overjoyed at my four weeks stay in Omaha is expressing myself very mildly. I considered it therefore only appropriate to pay for this great favor in the only coin that I had. I wrote a description of the Observatory and of its instruments in a series of three articles which appeared in the Omaha Herald tinder the titles Creighton Observatory. An Observatory Clock, and A Valuable Instrument (the chronograph) on the dates respectively of September 4, 13. 27, and were the following June incorporated ix the College catalogue as having been written `by a scholarly gentleman friendly to the College." These articles were my first that ever appeared in print.

In order that they might make a creditable appearance, I submitted them for criticism to Father O'Meara who was known to have a good command of language. But he was one of that class that cannot correct, but must entirely rewrite. When accordingly I saw my first article in print and found in it alterations and expressions that I did not approve of, I learned my first lesson and ever after stipulated that I was to have the last look at my production. This of course was then always granted.

Before bidding adieu to Omaha on the night of September 9, I urged my brother to get a good transit and sidereal clock and a building for them, since the intention of the College was to give time to the city, and this was manifestly impossible without such necessaries. The realization came sooner than my fondest hopes could have led me to expect. Only four days later, September 13, Mr. Creighton was so pleased with the display of the college scientific apparatus in the Exposition building, the details of which are given in the chapter on the Physical Department, that he promised to give 1,600 dollars for a transit instrument.

This transit consists of a telescope with a 3-inch lens and exactly one motor focal length, and turns only in the meridian. As the sidereal time at any moment is equal to the right ascension of the star on the meridian, and as sidereal time can readily be translated into solar or standard time, a transit gives not only the most convenient but also the most accurate way of determining the time and the error of the clock. The stability of the mounting adds another vital element.

In the field of view of the College transit there are seven vertical and two horizontal wires or threads. The telescope is so adjusted that a star is made to run between the horizontal threads, while its transit or passage across the vertical ones is recorded on the chronograph by the observer's pressing an electric key. The two systems of wires are controlled by micrometer screws, by means of which their positions can be known to the one hundred-thousandth part of an inch.

In addition to its adaptation for the accurate measurement of the time, the College transit is provided with a sixteen-inch circle, which is read by two micrometer microscopes to the tenth of a second, so that it can find its own latitude within ten feet. It has also several levels so sensitive that as a plain matter of fact, the height of an inch forty miles away can be indicated by them.

This superb instrument was handled barbarously by the local express company. Fortunately, however, no essential injury was inflicted. But the sidereal clock, which had been ordered of Fauth for $430 and which arrived at about the same time, was thrown down so heavily that several arbors in it were bent, and its marks on the chronograph were so irregular that it had to be rejected. The College brought suit against the company for the full price of the clock, but the maker declared himself to be satisfied with $140, which would enable him to put in new works. The new clock arrived on Christmas eve 1887. It has not only ever since given perfect satisfaction, hut has fairly rivaled the Howard solar clock as an accurate time keeper.

In passing it may be of service to remark that a sidereal clock differs from a solar or ordinary one only in this item, that it gains about four minutes (more precisely 3 minutes, 56 seconds) a day. It thus always shows the right ascension of the stars on the meridian, which is not only an enormous convenience but even a prosaic necessity for astronomical work of almost all kinds. Further particulars would be out of place here. The sidereal clock was set up in the southeast corner of the transit room, bolted to two iron pipes like the Howard clock. It, that is, the present one, breaks the circuit every even second, but instead of omitting the 38th, like the solar clock, it inserts the 59th, so that the two clocks are readily distinguished on the chronograph.

As the reader may surmise, I was back again in Omaha on July 1, 1887, this time to spend my whole vacation of two months with my brother in the Observatory. The new transit and the sidereal clock, permanently set up inside of a building, with the conveniences of gas light and even of some tiny electric lamps fed by a storage battery, held out the brightest prospects to me. There was work, plenty of it, computing, observing, adjusting, etc., but all this is pleasure when one's heart is in it, for the same reason that athletics is called sport, although it may call for much physical endurance and self-control.

The first thing to be done was to repair, that is, practically to renew entirely, the system of nine wires in the transit. These wires were ordinary cobweb, most inexpensive, it is true, hut so delicate that one must needs do such work to realize that the price of two dollars for only two wires at right angles, as one maker charges, is a very moderate one. But here there were nine wires, one-hundredth of an inch apart.

The chronograph was removed from the round house to the northwest corner of the transit room. The room was 16 feet square, and had glass doors and roof shutters arranged in such a way that the entire meridian was free, without so much as a chain or a rope across it. This amounted practically to putting up two houses 18 inches apart without touching each other, and presented quite an unusual problem to the builders.

Then a level was found to leak, the tube of the telescope had been loosened by the rough handling, the value of the divisions of the levels and of the turns of the micrometer screws had to be determined, the axis of the telescope had to be leveled within an error of less than one-millionth of its length, the whole instrument brought within a hair's breadth of the meridian, and so on. All these things were preliminaries to the regular use of the transit in the determination of time and latitude.

It was fascinating work for a young astronomer. And the very same is before any young man that desires such a training, not only in the verification of the constants of the Fauth transit and in its rises, but also in those of the rehabilitated Steward altazimuth and the veteran Wurdeman transit.
By the end of the first month I proposed to my brother to bring about an exchange of clock signals for longitude with the Naval Observatory in Washington, D. C. This would not only he a big "ad" for the Creighton College Observatory, but also superb astronomical practice. The signals were really not necessary, because a triangulation connection with the station of the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey on the high school grounds would give us our longitude more accurately. And so Washington telegraphed us, declining the signals as not needed. But I kept on urging "Please, oblige, anyhow." And so it did.

As it was cloudy either at Omaha or at Washington on August 2, 3, 4, the first exchange of signals could not take place until the 5th. The method of procedure was this, Each observatory found the correction to its clock as accurately as possible by the transits of about ten or twelve stars. Then from 8:55 to 9:00 P.M. central time Washington clock broke the circuit every second except the 29th and the last five of every minute, and these breaks were recorded on our chronograph along with those of our own clock, The signals had hardly begun when everything seemed to go wrong. First our pen refused to write because the ink was too thick. A lead pencil was substituted, but the marks were scarcely legible. Them the new catgut cord on the chronograph weights got all twisted up so that they could not operate. It was of course at once untwisted, but had to be held so by band. By this time the five minutes were up, and it was now the turn for our injured sidereal clock to send the signals through Chicago, Pittsburgh and Philadeiphia into Washington. Like the Washington clock our first sidereal clock broke the circuit also every second, and omitted only the 59th.

Then the telegraph relay kept on chattering its dots and dashes in a language we could not understand, After a few minutes Brother Duggan came running over to us from the College in great excitement and all our of breath, and said something about coincidence and arbitrary signals. I rushed over to the telephone but had some difficulty in getting the Western Union office. I then understood that both clocks beat coincidentally in Washington, and that we should send some arbitrary signals, I promised to do so in a minute. I found on my return to the Observatory that Esther Joe had got a glass pen to work on the chronograph. Setting this going again with our clock, I then pushed the observing key about a dozen times at random between the clock marks, Upon inquiry at the Western Union, I was told everything was satisfactory.

The coincidence of both clocks at Washington and not at Omaha illustrated very nicely that it took the electric current some immeasurable time to run 1500 miles and energize the relays on the way. For let us suppose that in absolute time the Omaha clock bears were one-tenth of a second ahead of those of the clock at Washington, and that it took also one-tenth of a second for "the wave and armature time."

Then when the Washington signals arrived in Omaha, they were one-tenth of a second late, I and therefore two-tenths later than those of our clock. Upon our returning time signals, these were also late in Washington by one-tenth of a second, but here they cancelled the one-tenth that our clock was fast, so that both clocks beat together. The Washington observers would have said that the clocks agreed, we would have said that they were two-tenths of a second apart. The average of no tenths and two-tenths is one-tenth, which was the fact. This shows the necessity of sending the signals both ways.

The arbitrary signals had to be read very carefully our both chronographs. they were not as convenient to use as the uniform clock marks, but there was no difference in principle, and in the case of coincidence of clocks they were absolutely necessary.

On the following night, August 6, there was a second exchange of signals, and a third and last one on the 7th, Everything passed off successfully. The Western Union had suggested that we should have a telegraph operator in the Observatory, but we could not get one and fortunately did not need one, as there were no more coincidences.

On the 13th and 16th also we learned that our signals had been received in a satisfactory way at Washington.

This brought our observatory work to close for the summer I had gathered enough data to keep me busy computing during my leisure hours for six months to come, But before leaving Omaha I wrote a long article on the transit, which appeared on August 28 in the Omaha Republican under the title "By Studying the Stars." On the 30th I bid adieu.

I was bound for Woodstock, near Baltimore, to begin my four years course of theology In passing through Washington on my way I observed for personal equation at the Naval Observatory with Professors Skinner and Winlock, who had determined the tune and read our clock signals on the three nights. As one person may not press the key until he actually sees the star in the wire, while another may get ready in advance to do so, there will be a difference of time between them, which may amount to half a second. As long as the observations of each persons are kept by themselves, this is of no consequence, when those of two or more persons must be combined, their difference or `personal equation' must be known and applied. In order to find it, here was an instrument in Washington in which the transits of an artificial star were recorded automatically, while the observer pressed a key and recorded them in his own fashion. The difference would then be apparent. The smallness of the personal equation is of no consideration, but the constancy is all important.

By the following November 21 I was able so send my longitude results to Washington. The reader need not be told that I put into them all the refinements of computation, even using what is called the method of least squares. But it was only on June 4, 1888 that I received the Washington results. Our observations gave a longitude thirty-eight hundredths of a second of time greater than that determined by the United Stases Coast and Geodetic Survey. This announced to saying that our Observatory was 435 feet west of where it actually is, and putting it on the eastern end of the running track around the football gridiron. This determination is highly gratifying, if one considers that my brother and myself were then only amateurs and had to use an injured clock.

On January 24, 1888 a total eclipse of the moon, in which the total phase lasted more than an hour and a half, was well observed by Father Joseph, who wrote a long article on it for the daily press under the title "The Moon in Mourning." It may be remarked once for all in passing that newspaper editors always claim the privilege to write the titles to the communications they receive. Sometimes these headlines betray their own ignorance, and sometimes they even contradict the statements of the writer. The same is the case with interviews, which sometimes have never occurred. I know from experience whereof I speak.

In like manner a partial eclipse of the sun, which was total in California, was well observed on New Year's Day 1889.

In 1889 I was back again at the Observatory from June 26 to September 4. I came from Woodstock in company with Mr. Donoher. I was glad to have his company, although I strongly suspect that Isis motive was umor the lure of astronomy so much, in which he never did anything before or after, as the desire to revisit Omaha where he had been stationed from December 1886 to June 1888. My brother was away the whole two months.

While Mr. Donoher was using the transit, I for for first and only time gave myself up to the poetry of astronomy. I directed the equatorial to all the interesting objects in the sky, and thereby not only learned exactly what a five-inch telescope can do, but also gathered information that proved to be very serviceable in the instruction of students and in the entertainment of visitors.

Several practical details were also attended to. On June 28 we put in the new works of the sidereal clock which had arrived six months before, and on July 3 and 4 we renewed the reticule of the transit for a reason I do not remember, On August 14 we made a triangulation connection between our Observatory and the station of the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey in the high school grounds. On August 29 we found our by means of our chronograph that it took 48 and 67 hundredths of a second respectively for two professional players so pitch a baseball from their stand to the home plate.

On the evening of September 3 an unusual astronomical event occurred, an occulation (or eclipse) of the planet Jupiter with its four moons by our moon which was then about one day past the First Quarter. This had been duly written up and published in the Omaha Bee, my first communication to this paper, on the preceding Sunday, September 1, in a long and illustrated article "Jupiter Will Hide His Face." The night of the 3rd was clear and we had many visitors. John Creighton was there and with his pencil drew a sketch of what he saw on the stone pier. We also gave him a peep through the transit at a tiny star, Omega Camelopardalis "What's that you say" he inquired. We gave him the name again. He wondered why such a small star should have such a big name. "I must memorize that" he said "and tell my wife about it."

Father Ricard of Santa Clara, California, who has since attained international fame by his predictions of the weather from the positions of spots on the sun, was with us from August 12 to September 4, and was indoctrinated into the use of the transit, I had the honor therefore to be his teacher, and he has always gratefully acknowledged it.

Sometime after our departure on September 4, 1 do not know exactly when, my brother transferred both clocks to the vault which had been built the preceding May in the angle between the equatorial and transit rooms and the short passage that connects them. This vault had triple walls and a triple roof in order to insulate it against rapid changes in temperature. It could also be heated electrically.

In the beginning there was great trouble with moisture, but as the walls gradually dried our, this trouble has entirely disappeared. There is a round window with two panes of glass a foot apart or more, through which the solar clock face can be seen by the observer as he is getting ready to observe southern stars in the transit, Of course, there was a switchboard through which any desirable combination could be effected between the chronograph, the two clocks and the two instruments, as well as for sending and receiving signals. This switchboard existed already in 1887.