Enterprise and Adventure/The Difficulties of an Astronomer
THE DIFFICULTIES OF AN ASTRONOMER.
The observation that the lives of men of learning rarely present any romantic incidents receives a striking contradiction from the biography of the late M. Arago. When only twenty years of age this celebrated savant was entrusted with the important and difficult task of continuing the measurement of the meridian line in Spain, left unfinished by the untimely death of the distinguished mathematician Méchain. For this purpose the young astronomer was, during the greater part of the year 1806, confined to a tent on an elevated peak among the mountains of Valencia, having for exercise ground only a space of twenty-two square yards, and seeing no one during that time but two Carthusian monks, who occasionally ventured, in spite of a rule of their order, to ascend the mountain, in order to hold converse him. Here his lonely situation was made still more irksome by the vexation attendant upon the failure of the signals necessary to the carrying out of the experiments. Owing to the reflectors established on the mountain of Camprey being turned slightly out of the right direction, he was for nearly six months unable to see the light, and was therefore compelled to suspend his operations. At length the monotony of his labours was relieved by the arrival of his friend and companion in scientific studies, M. Biot, with new instruments, with which they, were to proceed to Formentara, the southern extremity of the arc which they were engaged in measuring. Biot, however, quitted him afterwards to return to Paris, while Arago, after some further important experiments, repaired to Majorca, to measure there the latitude and the azimuth.
It was at this time that the fermentation against the entry of the French army into Spain began to assume formidable dimensions, and the operations of the young astronomer became the subject of much suspicion among the ignorant populace. His station in the island of Majorca was on the Closs de Galago, a very high mountain, and here his signals, lights, and mysterious apparatus soon gave rise to a report among the people that the stranger had established himself there in order to favour the arrival of the French army. The system of semaphore telegraphs had then recently become established on the Continent, and some plausibility was therefore given to the belief that the lights and signals on the Closs de Galago were but the extreme end of a continuous chain of signals by which intelligence was conveyed to the invader. The arrival of an ordnance officer from Napoleon in May 1808 brought the excitement to a head. A general rising against him took place, from which the officer only escaped with difficulty. Baffled in their primary object, the infuriated people then bethought them of the stranger and his mysterious occupations on the peak of Galago, and a popular expedition was instantly organized to seize him. This plan would inevitably have succeeded, and there is little doubt that the young philosopher would have fallen a victim to the fury of the populace, but for the forethought and kindness of M. Damain, the owner of a small vessel which the Spanish Government had provided for the assistance of Arago. This friend hastened to his rescue, provided with a disguise, in which the astronomer hastily attired himself, and the two departed. So little time had they to spare, that they actually met the rioters shortly afterwards, who, however, did not recognize Arago, as he spoke Majorcan perfectly. The cries of "Treason!" "Death!" from the people, only too plainly indicated the fate which awaited them if they had been discovered. Fortunately Arago afterwards, by the assistance of some of the crew, was enabled to obtain possession of the precious instruments and records of his scientific labours which he had been compelled to leave behind.
The flight from the peak of Galago proved to be only the commencement of a series of adventures as startling as anything which has been conceived by writers of romance. The captain of the vessel having refused to convey him back to France, he was glad to accept the offer of the commander of the island to retain him as a prisoner in the fortress, where he continued for some months in considerable danger. It is said that some fanatical monks devised a scheme for murdering the prisoner, but Arago had a firm friend in his comrade M. Rodriguez, a Spanish astronomer, who never forsook him during this time of peril. It was to the kind efforts of Rodriguez that he finally owed his release, with permission to go to Algiers, where they arrived in August 1808. Here the French consul provided the two astronomers with false passports, transforming them into two strolling merchants from Hungary, with which they at length set sail for France. They had actually arrived within sight of Marseilles, when a new misfortune befel them. A Spanish corsair from Palamos suddenly made its appearance, armed with two twenty-four pounders at the prow. The vessel in which Arago sailed endeavoured to escape, but a cannon ball which penetrated their sails, while their pursuer rapidly gained upon them, warned them to yield, and the corsair conveyed them to Rosas on the Spanish coast. Here Arago was recognized as a Frenchman, and thrown into a cruel imprisonment with a view to compel him to avow himself the real owner of the cargo. On one occasion a strong picket presented themselves at the door of the prison, the captain of which led the prisoners to believe that they were to be led out for military execution; but fortunately this turned out to be a mere ruse to extort a confession. These facts having been reported to the Dey of Algiers, and that sovereign having threatened to declare war against Spain if the vessel and prisoners were not given up, the Spanish authorities yielded, and Arago and the faithful Rodriguez were again at liberty to pursue their voyage. Once more they found themselves within sight of Marseilles, and their vessel was actually steering for the harbour, when a furious north-west wind, known in that part as the Mistral, suddenly arose, and drove their little vessel with great violence before it. To their vexation the wanderers again saw the French coast fade from their view, and after many hardships, found themselves, some days later, on a lonely part of the coast of Africa. They landed in the harbour of Boujie, three days' sail from Algiers, whither they determined to return; but their ill fortune was still far from being exhausted. They learnt that their friend, the Dey of Algiers, had just been assassinated, and a new Dey chosen, who determined to seize the heavy trunk, in which Arago carried the instruments and books which he had guarded through all his trials. Arago was then compelled to proceed by land to Algiers, a journey of great danger, which he accomplished by disguising himself in the Turkish costume, and placing himself under the protection of a faithful priest, who guided him through the mountains and deserts which lay in their way. By the intercession of the French consul, the trunk, the contents of which was found to be of less value than was supposed, was restored. Once more Arago departed, though not without a narrow escape from being again captured by a blockading squadron. He finally landed in safety at Marseilles, having occupied eleven months in a journey which at the present time is generally accomplished in four days.
His letters sent from the Quarantine-house at Marseilles were considered by his friends and relatives as tokens of resurrection. They had in fact long before assumed him dead. A great geometer had even proposed to the Bureau of Longitude to cease to pay his allowance to his authorized representative—Arago's father. "The first letter which I received from Paris," says Arago in his "Story of my Youth," "contained testimonies of sympathy and congratulation on the termination of my laborious and perilous adventures; it was from a man already in possession of an European reputation—Mr. Humboldt." This was the commencement of the long and intimate friendship between these two men of science. Having ended his quarantine he joyfully repaired to Perpignan, where his mother had caused masses to be said for the repose of his soul, under the belief that he had long before fallen a victim to the daggers of the Spaniards. Soon afterwards he returned to Paris, and had the satisfaction of depositing safely, at the Bureau of Longitude and the Academy of Sciences, those valuable observations which he had preserved through so many troubles and dangers. A few days after his arrival, on the 18th of September, 1809, he was nominated an Academician in the place of Lalande; and the illustrious astronomer refers in his memoir with pride to the fact that this honour was conferred upon him at twenty-three years of age.