ECLIPSES OF THE MOON MENTIONED IN HISTORY.

We saw in a previous chapter that we owe to the Chinese the first record of an eclipse of the Sun. It must now be stated that the same remark applies to the first recorded eclipse of the Moon, and Prof. S.M. Russell is again our authority. He refers to a book called the Chou-Shu or book of the Chou Dynasty, said to have been found in 280 A.D. in the tomb of an Emperor who lived many centuries previously. In this book it is stated that in the 35th year of Wen-Wang on the day Ping-Tzu there was an eclipse of the Moon. Russell finds that this event may be assigned to January 29, 1136 B.C., and that the eclipse was total.

Next after this Chinese eclipse, in point of time, come several eclipses recorded by Ptolemy, on the authority of records collected or examined by himself. The three earliest of these came from ChaldÆan sources.

The first of these eclipses was observed at Babylon, in the 27th year of the era of Nabonassar, the 1st of the reign of Mardokempadius, on the 29th of the Egyptian month Thoth, answering to March 19, 721 B.C. The eclipse began before moonrise, and the middle of the totality appears to have occurred at 9h. 30m. p.m. The other two eclipses, also observed at Babylon, occurred on March 8, 720 B.C., and September 1, in the same year, respectively.

Three other lunar eclipses, recorded by Ptolemy, assisted Sir I. Newton in fixing the Terminus a quo from which the “70 weeks” of years were to run which the prophet Daniel[122] predicted were to elapse before the death of Christ. This Terminus a quo dates from the Restoration of the Jews under Artaxerxes, 457 B.C. The three eclipses which Newton made use of were those of July 16, 523, November 19, 502, and April 25, 491 B.C.

Aristophanes, in “The Clouds” (lines 561-66), makes an allusion to which has been supposed (but probably without adequate warrant, in Spanheim’s opinion), to refer to an eclipse of the Moon. The eclipse, October 9, 425 B.C., has, moreover, been suggested as that referred to, but the whole idea seems to me too shadowy.

An eclipse of the Moon took place in the 4th year of the 91st Olympiad, answering to August 27, 413 B.C., which produced very disastrous consequences to an Athenian army, owing to the ignorance and incapacity of Nicias, the commander. The army was in Sicily, confronted by a Syracusan army, and having failed, more or less, and sickness having broken out, it was decided that the Athenians should embark and quit the island. Plutarch, in his Life of Nicias, says:—“Everything accordingly was prepared for embarkation, and the enemy paid no attention to these movements, because they did not expect them. But in the night there happened an eclipse of the Moon, at which Nicias and all the rest were struck with a great panic, either through ignorance or superstition. As for an eclipse of the Sun, which happens at the Conjunction, even the common people had some idea of its being caused by the interposition of the Moon; but they could not easily form a conception, by the interposition of what body the Moon, when at the full, should suddenly lose her light, and assume such a variety of colours. They looked upon it therefore as a strange and preternatural phenomenon, a sign by which the gods announced some great calamity.” And the calamity came to pass, but only indirectly was it caused by the Moon!

Plutarch and Pliny both mention that eleven days before the victory of Alexander over Darius, at Arbela in Assyria, there was an eclipse of the Moon. Plutarch’s words (Life of Alexander) are, that “there happened an eclipse of the Moon, about the beginning of the festival of the great mysteries at Athens. The eleventh night after that eclipse, the two armies being in view of each other, Darius kept his men under arms, and took a general review of his troops by torch-light.” This seems to have led to a great deal of disorderly tumult in the Assyrian camp, a fact which was noticed by Alexander. Several of his friends urged him to make a night attack on the enemy’s camp, but he preferred that his Macedonians should have a good night’s rest, and it was then that he uttered the celebrated answer, “I will not steal a victory.” Plutarch enters upon some rather interesting moral reflections connected with this answer, but which of course are foreign to the subject of this volume. This eclipse happened on September 20, 331 B.C., and was total, the middle of the eclipse being at about 8.15 p.m. It follows therefore, that the celebrated battle of Arbela was fought on October 1, 331 B.C.

In 219 B.C. an eclipse of the Moon was seen in Mysia, according to Polybius.[123] The date of September 1 has been assigned for this eclipse which is said to have so greatly alarmed some Gaulish Mercenary troops in the service of Attalus, King of Pergamos, that he had to get rid of them as soon as he could—make terms with them to go home.

On the eve of the battle of Pydna when Perseus, King of Macedonia, was conquered by Paulus Æmilius, there happened an eclipse of the Moon. Plutarch in his Life of Paulus Æmilius, speaking of his army having settled down in a camp, says:—“When they had supped and were thinking of nothing but going to rest, on a sudden the Moon, which was then at full and very high, began to be darkened, and after changing into various colours, was at last totally eclipsed. The Romans, according to their custom, made a great noise by striking upon vessels of brass and held up lighted faggots and torches in the air in order to recall her light; but the Macedonians did no such thing; horror and astonishment seized their whole camp, and a whisper passed among the multitude that this appearance portended the fall of the king. As for Æmilius, he was not entirely unacquainted with this matter; he had heard of the ecliptic inequalities which bring the Moon at certain periods under the shadow of the Earth and darken her till she has passed that quarter of obscurity and receives light from the Sun again. Nevertheless, as he was wont to ascribe most events to the Deity, was a religious observer of sacrifices and of the art of divination, he offered up to the Moon 11 heifers as soon as he saw her regain her former lustre. At break of day he also sacrificed oxen to Hercules to the number of 20 without any auspicious sign, but in the twenty-first the desired tokens appeared and he announced victory to his troops, provided they stood upon the defensive.”

The astronomical knowledge ascribed in this account to Paulus Æmilius, constitutes a very interesting feature in this record because the Romans though they were good at most things, were by no means adepts at the science of Astronomy. Livy[124] tells us that Sulpicius Gallus, one of the Roman tribunes, foretold this eclipse, first to the Consul and then, with his leave, to the army, whereby that terror which eclipses were wont to breed in ignorant minds was entirely taken off and the soldiers more and more disposed to confide in officers of so great wisdom and of such general knowledge. This eclipse is often identified with that of June 21, 168 B.C., but Johnson gives reasons why this cannot be the case and that the eclipse in question was that which happened on the night of June 10-11, 167 B.C., and commenced about midnight, whereas the eclipse of 168 B.C. was nearly over when the Moon was above the horizon at Rome. Stockwell, however, fixes on the eclipse of September 3, 172 B.C. as that which was connected with the Battle of Pydna.

Josephus[125] speaking of the barbarous acts of Herod, says:—“And that very night there was an eclipse of the Moon.” There has been some controversy respecting the identification of this eclipse (the only one mentioned by Josephus) which also is associated with Herod’s last illness, it not having been easy to reconcile some discordant chronological statements connected with the length of Herod’s reign and the date when he began to reign. On the whole, probably, we shall be safe in saying that the reference is to the eclipse of March 13, 4 B.C. This was a partial eclipse to the extent of less than half the Moon’s diameter, a defalcation of light sufficient, however, to attract public notice even at 3 a.m., seeing that no doubt, even at that hour, the streets of Jerusalem were in a state of turmoil owing to the burning alive by Herod of some seditious Rabbis.

It should be stated, however, that Hind assigns the account by Josephus to the eclipse which occurred on January 9, 1 B.C. On this occasion the Moon passed nearly centrally through the Earth’s shadow soon after midnight, emerging at 2.57 a.m. on the early morning of January 10, local Mean Time at Jerusalem.

Tacitus[126] mentions an eclipse of the Moon as having happened soon after the death of Augustus. This has been identified with the eclipse of September 27, A.D. 14. Tacitus says:—“The Moon in the midst of a clear sky became suddenly eclipsed; the soldiers who were ignorant of the cause took this for an omen referring to their present adventures: to their labours they compared the eclipse of the planet, and prophesied ‘that if to the distressed goddess should be restored her wonted brightness and splendour, equally successful would be the issue of their struggle.’ Hence they made a loud noise, by ringing upon brazen metal, and by blowing trumpets and cornets; as she appeared brighter or darker they exulted or lamented.”

There was an eclipse of the Moon on the generally recorded date of the Crucifixion of our Lord, April 3, A.D. 33. Hind found that our satellite emerged from the Earth’s dark shadow about a quarter of an hour before she rose at Jerusalem (6h. 36m. p.m.), but the penumbra continued upon her disc for an hour afterwards.

On Jan. 1, A.D. 47, a total eclipse of the Moon was seen at Rome, and on the same night an island rose up in the Ægean Sea.

The total eclipse of Feb. 22, A.D. 72, noted by Pliny,[127] is the first in which it is recorded that Sun and Moon were both visible at the same time, the eclipse occurring when the Sun was rising and the Moon setting.

Trithenius speaks of an eclipse of the Moon observed in the time of MerovÆus. Johnson identifies it with the eclipse of Sept. 15, 452 A.D. It was from MerovÆus that the line of French kings known as Merovingians received their name.

On April 16, A.D. 683, according to Anastasius the Papal historian, the Moon for nearly the whole night exhibited a blood-red appearance, and did not emerge from obscurity till cockcrowing.

In A.D. 690 an eclipse of the Moon was observed in Wales. We are told[128] that “the Moon was turned to the colour of blood.” This would seem to be the first eclipse of the Moon recorded in Britain.

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle tells us that in A.D. 734 “the Moon was as if it had been sprinkled with blood, and Archbishop Tatwine and Beda died and Ecgberht was hallowed bishop.” The intended inference apparently is that the Moon had something to do with the deaths of the two ecclesiastics, but this theory will not hold water. Beda, it may be remarked, is the correct name of the man generally known to us as the “Venerable Bede.” It is evident that from the description of the Moon it exhibited on that occasion the well-known coppery hue which is a recognised feature of many total eclipses of our satellite. This eclipse occurred on January 24, beginning at about 1 a.m.

On the night of January 23, A.D. 753, “the Moon was covered with a horrid black shield.” This is the record of an eclipse. It occurred at about midnight, and apparently we are entitled to infer that on this occasion the Moon disappeared altogether, instead of being discoverable during the total phase by exhibiting a coppery hue.

In A.D. 755 [or 756 in orig.], on November 23, there happened an exceedingly interesting event which stands, I think, without a precedent in the annals of science—an eclipse of the Moon contemporaneous with an occultation of a planet by the Moon. This singular combination is thus described in the annals of Roger de Hoveden[129]:—“On the 8th day before the Calends of December the Moon on her 15th day being about her full, appeared to be covered with the colour of blood, and then the darkness decreasing she returned to her usual brightness; but, in a wondrous manner, a bright star followed the Moon, and passing across her, preceded her when shining, at the same distance which it had followed her before she was darkened.” The details here given are not astronomically quite correct, but let that pass; the writer’s intention is fairly clear. Calculation shows that the eclipse occurred on November 23, and that the planet, which was Jupiter, was concealed in the evening by the Moon for about an hour from 7h. 30m. to 8h. 30m. p.m., the immersion taking place about the end of the total phase. This is the first occultation of a star or planet by the Moon observed and recorded in England.

Under the year 795 the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says:—“In this year the Moon was eclipsed between cockcrowing and dawn on the 5th of the Calends of April; and Eardwalf succeeded to the kingdom of the Northumbrians on the 2nd of the Ides of May.” This signifies that the eclipse happened on March 28 between 3h. and 6h. in the morning, the method of dividing the hours of night into equal portions of three hours each being still in use. There was no eclipse in 795 on the date in question but there was one in 796, so we may suppose an error in the year. This assumed, Johnson found that the eclipse began at about 4h. a.m., was total for nearly an hour, and ended at about 7½h., so that the Moon set eclipsed. But the above assumption is dispensed with by Lynn who substitutes one of his own.[130] For “5th of the Calends” he reads “5th of the Ides,” which means April 9; and on that day in 795 he says there was an eclipse of the Moon, but I have not found any other record of it.

In the year A.D. 800, according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, “the Moon was eclipsed at the 2nd hour of the night (8h. p.m.) on the 17th day of the Calends of February.” Johnson finds that there was an eclipse of the Moon on Jan. 15. The middle of the eclipse occurred at 8h. 34m., 9/10ths of the Moon’s upper limb having been obscured.

Under the date of 806 the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says:—“This year was the Moon eclipsed on the Kalends [1st] of September; and Eardwulf, King of the Northumbrians, was driven from his kingdom, and Eanberht, Bishop of Hexham, died.” This eclipse was total, the totality lasting from 9h. 37m. to 10h. 59m. p.m.

On Feb. 15, 817, according to the Annales Fuldenses, an eclipse of the Moon was observed in the early evening at Paris, and on the same night a Comet was seen. This Comet is described by another authority as a “monstrous” one and as being in Sagittarius on Feb. 5. The Chinese date it for Feb. 17, and place it near the stars a and ? Tauri.

In 828 two lunar eclipses were seen in Europe, the first on July 1 very early in the morning, and the second on the morning of Christmas Day. The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle thus speaks of the second eclipse:—“In this year the Moon was eclipsed on Mid-winter’s Mass-night, and the same year King Ecgbryht subdued the kingdom of the Mercians and all that was South of the Humber.” The totality occurred after midnight. There is some confusion in the year of this eclipse, the Chronicle giving it as 827, whilst calculation shows that it must have been 828. Lynn defines “Mid-winter’s Mass-night” as Christmas Eve.

Under the date of 904 the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says:—“In this year the Moon was eclipsed.” There were two total eclipses of the Moon this year, one on May 31, and the other on Nov. 25, and it does not appear which one is referred to in the Chronicle cited. Another writer, Cedrenus, speaks of a great eclipse of the Moon this year which he says foretold the death of a kinsman of the Emperor.

On October 6, 1009, there was a total eclipse of the Moon which presumably is referred to in the statement that “this year the Moon was changed into blood.”

On Nov. 8, 1044, there was a large partial eclipse in the morning. Raoul Glaber[131] (a French chronicler who died about 1050) comments upon it thus:—“In what manner it happened, whether a prodigy brought to pass by the Deity or by the intervention of some heavenly body, remains known to the author of knowledge. For the Moon herself became like dark blood, only getting clear of it a little before the dawn.” Truly those times were the “Dark Ages” in which ignorance and folly were rampant, seeing that more than 1000 years previously the Greeks knew all about the causes of eclipses.

Under 1078 the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle says:—“In this year the Moon was eclipsed 3 nights before Candlemas, and Ægelwig, the ‘world-wide’ Abbot of Evesham, died on St. Juliana’s Mass-day [Feb. 16]; and in this year was the dry summer, and wildfire came in many Shires and burned many towns.” Johnson found that a total eclipse of the Moon happened in the early evening of Jan. 30.

On May 5, 1110, in the reign of Henry I., there occurred a total eclipse of the Moon during which, says the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, “the Moon appeared in the evening brightly shining and afterwards by little and little its light waned, so that as soon as it was night it was so completely quenched that neither light nor orb nor anything at all of it was seen. And so it continued very near until day, and then appeared full and brightly shining. It was on this same day a fortnight old. All the night the air was very clear, and the stars over all the heaven were brightly shining. And the tree-fruits on that night were sorely nipt.” The totality occurred before mid-night. It is evident that this was an instance of a “black” eclipse when the Moon becomes quite invisible instead of shining with the familiar coppery hue.

In 1117 there were two total eclipses, the first on June 16, and the second on December 10. The latter is thus referred to in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle:—“In the night of the 3rd of the Ides of December the Moon was far in [during a long time of] the night as if it were all bloody, and afterwards eclipsed.” The totality commenced at 11.36 p.m.

It is recorded by Matthew Paris[132] in connection with the death of Henry I. that “the Moon also was eclipsed the same year on the 29th of July” [1135]. These words seem to indicate a total eclipse of the Moon. Johnson gives the date as Dec. 22, 1135. If this is correct the text of the Chronicle must be corrupt. The whole eclipse was not visible in England, the Moon setting before the middle of the eclipse. Stephen had been crowned king the same day, namely Dec. 22.

On June 30, 1349, there was a total eclipse of the Moon visible at London to which some interest attaches. Archdeacon Churton[133] connects it with the following incident:—“The worthy Abp. Bradwardine, who nourished in the reign of the Norman Edwards, and died A.D. 1349, tells a story of a witch who was attempting to impose on the simple people of the time. It was a fine summer’s night, and the Moon was suddenly eclipsed. ‘Make me good amends,’ said she, ‘for old wrongs, or I will bid the Sun also to withdraw his light from you.’ Bradwardine, who had studied the Arabian astronomers, was more than a match for this simple trick, without calling in the aid of the Saxon law. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘at what time you will do this, and we will believe you; or if you will not tell me, I will tell you when the Sun or the Moon will next be darkened, in what part of their orb the darkness will begin, how far it will spread, and how long it will continue.’”

An eclipse of the Moon which happened when Columbus was at the Island of Jamaica proved of great service to him when he was in difficulties owing to the want of food supplies which the inhabitants refused to afford. The eclipse was a total one, and so far as the description goes the eclipses of April 2, 1493, and March 1, 1504, both respond to the recorded circumstances: both were total and both occurred soon after sunset. But, inasmuch as in the life of Columbus written by his son the incident is placed nearly at the end of the work, there can be no doubt that it is the later of the above eclipses which was the one in question. The story is very graphically told by Sir A. Helps[134] in the words following:—

“The Indians refused to minister to their wants any longer; and famine was imminent. But just at this last extremity, the admiral, ever fertile in devices, bethought him of an expedient for re-establishing his influence over the Indians. His astronomical knowledge told him that on a certain night an eclipse of the Moon would take place. One would think that people living in the open air must be accustomed to see such eclipses sufficiently often not to be particularly astonished at them. But Columbus judged—and as the event proved, judged rightly—that by predicting the eclipse he would gain a reputation as a prophet, and command the respect and the obedience due to a person invested with supernatural powers. He assembled the caciques of the neighbouring tribes. Then, by means of an interpreter, he reproached them with refusing to continue to supply provisions to the Spaniards. ‘The God who protects me,’ he said, ‘will punish you. You know what has happened to those of my followers who have rebelled against me; and the dangers which they encountered in their attempt to cross Haiti, while those who went at my command made the passage without difficulty. Soon, too, shall the divine vengeance fall on you; this very night shall the Moon change her colour and lose her light, in testimony of the evils which shall be sent upon you from the skies.’

“The night was fine: the moon shone down in full brilliancy. But at the appointed time the predicted phenomenon took place, and the wild howls of the savages proclaimed their abject terror. They came in a body to Columbus and implored his intercession. They promised to let him want for nothing if only he would avert this judgment. As an earnest of their sincerity they collected hastily a quantity of food and offered it at his feet. At first, diplomatically hesitating, Columbus presently affected to be softened by their entreaties. He consented to intercede for them; and, retiring to his cabin, performed, as they supposed, some mystic rite which should deliver them from the threatened punishment. Soon the terrible shadow passed away from the face of the moon, and the gratitude of the savages was as deep as their previous terror. But being blended with much awe, it was not so evanescent as gratitude often is; and henceforth there was no failure in the regular supply of provisions to the castaways.”

Tycho Brahe observed a lunar eclipse on July 7, 1590. He writes:—“In the morning about 3¾h. the Moon began to be eclipsed: in this eclipse it is notable that both luminaries were at the same time above the horizon; a like case which Pliny cites. For the centre of the Sun emerged when the Moon was 2° elevated above the Western horizon, and when her centre was setting, the centre of the Sun was elevated nearly 2°.”[135]

On August 16, 1598, there occurred a total eclipse of the Moon, observed by Kepler,[136] in which during totality a part of the Moon was visible and the rest invisible. He says, that while one-half of the disc was seen with great difficulty the other half was discernible by a deep red light of such brilliancy that at first he was doubtful whether our satellite was immersed in the Earth’s shadow at all. This is an instance of the simultaneous operation of those causes (whatever they may be) which result in a totally-eclipsed Moon being sometimes wholly invisible and sometimes entirely visible as a copper-coloured disc.

An eclipse of the Moon which happened on the morning of July 6, 1610, may be mentioned as having been the first to be viewed through a telescope. The eclipse was only a large partial one. The following record of the fact is due to Tycho Brahe.[137] “The beginning of the eclipse of the Moon as observed through the Roman telescope, appeared like a dark thread in contact with the shadow”—a description which cannot be said to be unduly explicit.

In 1620, on June 15, there was a total eclipse of the Moon, when during the total phase “the Moon was seen with great difficulty. It shone, moreover, like the thinnest nebula, far fainter than the Milky Way, without any copper tinge. About the middle of the second hour nothing at all could be seen of the Moon with the naked eye, and through the telescope so doubtfully was anything seen that no one could tell whether the Moon was not something else.” It is expressly stated, however, that the sky was quite clear. Kepler also observed this eclipse, and says that the Moon quite disappeared, though stars of the 4th and 5th magnitudes were plainly visible.[138] In this same year 1620, there was on December 9 another total eclipse, when “the Moon altogether disappeared so that nothing could be seen of it, though the stars shone brightly all around: she continued lost and invisible for a quarter of an hour more or less.” This observation seems to have been made at Ingolstadt.Wendelinus mentions the eclipse of April 14, 1623, in connection with the question of the visibility of the Moon when totally eclipsed. He says, “but sometimes it so far retains the light derived from the Sun that you would doubt whether any part of it were eclipsed.” This eclipse was observed by Gassendi, and if the above record is correct, it is the more remarkable seeing that the eclipse was not total, only 11/12ths of the Moon’s diameter being obscured.

On April 25, 1642, on the occasion of a total eclipse, Hevelius[139] noted that the Moon wholly disappeared when immersed in the Earth’s shadow. Crabtree is stated by Flamsteed[140] to have observed this eclipse, but he does not plainly state that he lost sight of the Moon. Crabtree or his editor dates this eclipse for April 4; Ferguson for April 15. There appears to be some muddle as between “old style” and “new style.” Ferguson professing to be N.S. is evidently wrong. Hevelius gives the double date, 15/25, which is evidently right.

On June 16, 1666, the Moon was seen in Tuscany to rise eclipsed, the Sun not having yet set in the W.

On May 26, 1668, an eclipse of the Moon was in progress in the early morning, when the Sun was seen to rise by members of the Academy of Sciences who were observing the phenomenon at Montmartre near Paris.

On December 23, 1703, the Moon when totally immersed was seen at Avignon showing a ruddy light of such brilliancy that we are told it had the appearance of a transparent body illuminated by a light placed behind. Johnson finds that the total phase took place in the early morning, and lasted from 5h. 36m. to 7h. 22m. a.m.

The lunar eclipse of May 18, 1761, as observed by Wargentin,[141] at Stockholm, furnishes a remarkable instance of the invisibility of the Moon on certain occasions, when completely immersed in the earth’s shadow. The total immersion of the Moon took place at 10h. 41m. p.m. The part of the margin of the lunar disc which had last entered the shadow was fairly conspicuous for 5 or 6 minutes after the immersion, and to the naked eye exhibited a lustre equal to that of a star of the 2nd magnitude; but at 10h. 52m. this part, as well as the whole of the rest of the Moon’s body, “had disappeared so completely, that not the slightest trace of any portion of the lunar disc could be discerned either with the naked eye or with the telescope, although the sky was clear, and the stars in the vicinity of the Moon were distinctly visible in the telescope.” After more than half an hour’s search, Wargentin at length discovered the whereabouts of the Moon by means of a faint light, which was visible at the Eastern edge of the disc. A few minutes afterwards, some persons of acute vision were able to discern, with the naked eye, a trace of the Moon, looking like a patch of thin vapour, but more than half the disc was still invisible.

An eclipse of the Moon, on March 29, 1801, was observed by Humboldt, on board ship, off the Island of Baru, not far from Cartagena de las Indias, in the Caribbean Sea.[142] He remarks that he was “exceedingly struck with the greater luminous intensity of the Moon’s disc under a tropical sky than in my native North.” Johnson makes Humboldt to refer to the greater clearness of the “reddened disc,” but these words do not appear either in the German or in the English version.

A total eclipse of the Moon occurred on June 10, 1816. As observed by Beer and MÄdler and others, the Moon completely disappeared. The summer of 1816, be it remembered, was very wet, and probably this had something to do with the Moon’s invisibility at the eclipse in question.

On October 13, 1837, there happened a total eclipse of the Moon, of which Sir J. Herschel and Admiral W.H. Smyth have left us interesting accounts.[143] The changes of tint, both as regards times and places on the Moon’s disc, recorded by the latter, are very remarkable. And the tints themselves varied very much inter se: The Admiral speaks of “copper,” “sea-green,” “neutral tint,” and “silvery,” as hues visible in one part of the Moon or another, and at one time or another.