Chapter 1 of 9 · 2823 words · ~14 min read

CHAPTER ONE

COMETS AS PORTENTS

“Lo! from the dread immensity of Space, Returning with accelerated pace, The rushing comet to the sun descends: And, as he shrinks below the shading Earth, With awful train projected o’er the Heavens, The guilty nations tremble.” —THOMSON.

Can there be anything more awe-inspiring to the superstitious than the stealthy approach of a comet as it wends its way among the stars, finally blazing out with a marvelous train as it draws near to the sun to pay homage? As a distant relative of that luminary, it comes for an occasional visit from far-off realms, and after a brief display during which it adorns itself with a splendor befitting the momentous occasion, it withdraws into the obscurity from which it emerged. In these enlightened days a comet is greeted with enthusiasm, and the camera keeps a faithful record of its varying appearance, but in olden times it was regarded as a portent of evil.

Comets have sometimes been pictured as dragons, and according to Pliny the shape of a comet indicated its character as a portent. Thus, some were shown as arrow heads, sea monsters, swords, lances, and flames. In A.D. 69, according to Josephus, several signs appeared in the sky announcing the destruction of Jerusalem.

“Amongst other warnings, a comet, one of the kind called Xiphias, because their tails appear to represent the blade of a sword, was seen above the city for the space of a whole year.”

Regarding the comet of A.D. 79, it is said to have preceded the death of the Roman Emperor Vespasian. When the physicians reproved the emperor for continuing to live as usual, attending to the business of the state, although attacked by a serious malady, he replied, “It is fitting that an emperor should die standing.” Then perceiving some courtiers who were conversing together in a low tone of voice about the comet, gazing significantly in his direction meanwhile, he remarked: “This hairy star does not concern me; it menaces rather the King of the Parthians, for he is hairy and I am bald.” Feeling his end approach, he observed, “I think that I am becoming a god.”

Virgil compares a hero in his shining armor to a comet, and makes another allusion to these objects at the end of the first Georgic (Bk. I, 487–488) in the couplet thus rendered by the Rev. Canon Newbolt:

“At no other time did more thunderbolts fall in a clear sky, nor so often did dread comets blaze.”

In the natural history of Pliny we find several passages relating to the significance attached to comets by the ancients. For instance, when referring to the comet of 48 B.C., he observes:

“We have in the war between Cæsar and Pompey an example of the terrible effects which follow the apparition of a comet.... That fearful star, which overthrows the powers of the earth, showed its terrible locks.”

The superstitious dread in which comets were held in the Middle Ages is exemplified in the gloomy forebodings of disaster, such as wars, pestilence, and the death of kings, when these apparitions were seen in the heavens. Well known is Shakespeare’s allusion to comets in Act II, Sc. 2 of “Julius Cæsar”:

“When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.”

In “Henry VI” we find the following passage in Part I, Act I, Sc. 1:

“Comets, importing change of times and states Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky; And with them scourge the bad revolting stars That have consented unto Henry’s death.”

The comet of A.D. 451 or A.D. 453 announced the death of Attila, and the comet of A.D. 455 that of the Emperor Valentinian. So widely spread was the belief in the connection between the death of the great, and these menacing signs in the heavens, that the chroniclers of old appear to have recorded comets which were never seen, such as the comet of A.D. 814, which was supposed to have presaged the death of Charlemagne.

When the end of the world was expected in A.D. 1000, the most simple phenomena assumed terrible proportions. We are told of earthquakes, and a comet visible for nine days.

“The heavens having opened, a kind of burning torch fell upon the earth, leaving behind it a long train of light similar to a flash of lightning. Such was its light that it frightened not only those who were in the open country, but those who were within doors. As this opening in the heavens closed imperceptibly there became visible the figure of a dragon, whose feet were blue, and whose head seemed continually to increase.”

However, this was more likely the momentary appearance of a shooting star or fireball, than the comet which the chronicler records as remaining visible for nine days.

A terrible picture accompanies the description, showing a meteor track so arranged as to resemble the outline of a dragon, and lest the resemblance might not seem convincing enough, a fearsome looking dragon to match is set beside the celestial apparition labeled “_Serpens cum ceruleis pedibus_.”

Fortunately, people were too busy in those “good old times” fighting and plundering one another to pay much heed to these omens in the sky. Moreover, with regard to the threatened end of the world, many contented themselves with the reflection that they could not be much worse off, even if the world should perish at that period. Consequently, a comet scare was averted, and we have clear evidence that, as far as the predicted catastrophe was concerned, everything went on as usual. A.D. 1000 came and went, and still the world endured.

Great importance has been attached to the seeming connection between Halley’s famous comet and the portent theory, with striking events which have occurred upon the occasion of its several returns. For instance, at its return in A.D. 66 it was probably the sword of fire described by Josephus as suspended over Jerusalem not long before the destruction of that city by Titus. Its appearance in A.D. 451 coincided with the defeat of Attila at Châlons, and it was pictured in the _Nuremberg Chronicle_ for A.D. 684.

It is well known in connection with the famous Bayeux tapestry into which Queen Matilda wove the story of William the Conqueror’s defeat of Harold on the memorable occasion of the battle of Hastings, A.D. 1066. People are shown pointing to an object in the sky, which is labeled _Isti Mirant Stellam_, the wonderful so-called “hairy star” which supposedly heralded the success of the Conqueror.

On an adjoining panel is pictured the dejected Harold about to topple off his throne, and a solitary attendant expressing alarm at the defeated monarch’s precarious position, but apparently offering no assistance of value. Thus the comet on this occasion served the double purpose, it would seem, of announcing success on the one hand and defeat on the other. Undoubtedly it caused great alarm on account of its brightness and rapid motion.

In 1456 it returned at a period of great anxiety, when the Turks, having taken possession of Constantinople three years before, now turned their attention to Belgrade, which they were besieging. It happened that the moon was passing through the crescent phase at the time, and Halley’s comet presented the appearance of a sword. The crescent moon, resembling the Turkish emblem, is said to have been considered an evil omen by the Turks, contributing eventually to their defeat.

Coming to our own times, it is surprising the amount of fear and distress which was caused at the return of Halley’s comet in 1910. Insanity and even cases of suicide followed at its approach, and there is a well-authenticated case of an enthusiastic young lady in New Jersey, U. S. A., who declared her intention of following the comet wheresoever it went, but was restrained by her friends, and temporary seclusion in an asylum, from this perilous pursuit.

As the time drew near for the comet to pass from the morning to the evening sky, when, according to calculations, it would cross the plane of the earth’s orbit at a point exactly between the earth and the sun, fresh alarm was caused lest the earth, in plunging through the débris of the comet’s train, might come to grief in consequence. A report that we should be asphyxiated by the poisonous gases, such as cyanogen, of which the train was said to be partly composed, did not tend to lessen the alarm. Cautious folk laid in a supply of bottles of oxygen to sustain life during the fatal night, and one or two of a pessimistic turn of mind actually forestalled the expected tragedy by committing suicide. Yet nothing happened, for the simple reason that on the night of the great adventure the comet obligingly spread its tail so widely apart, that we passed unharmed between two sections thereof.

[Illustration:

_Drawn by M. Proctor_

DAYLIGHT COMET 1910 A

As seen at Newcastletown Moor, January 28, by the author ]

Nevertheless, despite a few tragedies consequent upon fear at the comet’s near approach, the lurking dread of evil it might have had in store for us was considerably less on the occasion of the return of Halley’s comet in 1910, than was usual in the gloomy, prognosticating period of the Middle Ages. Yet certain events occurred which made some people wonder if there was not a kernel of truth in the so-called portents after all. For instance, during the month of January (in the eventful year 1910) the so-called Daylight comet—a totally unexpected visitor to the sun’s domain—blazed out in the evening sky and the people of Paris saw its reflection in the flood which threatened to destroy their city. In May, while Londoners were watching for Halley’s comet, which proved to be a very disappointing spectacle in this part of the world, the body of King Edward the Seventh lay in state at Westminster. “What wonder,” as Mr. Arthur R. Hinks observes in his book entitled _Astronomy_, “that the imagination seizes upon these deplorable coincidences and the fear of comets dies hard among us?”

Tennyson thus refers to Halley’s comet in his poem “Harold”:

“Lo! there once more—this is the seventh night You grimly-glaring, treble-brandished scourge of England.

· · · · ·

Look you, there’s a star.

· · · · ·

It glares in heaven, it flares upon the Thames, The people are as thick as bees below, They hum like bees—they cannot speak—for awe, Lord Leodwin, dost thou believe that these Three rods of blood-red fire up yonder mean The doom of England and the wrath of Heaven?”

Milton in “Paradise Lost” compares Satan to a comet:

“That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge In the Arctic sky, and from his horrid hair Shakes pestilence and war.”

It has been suggested that the poet was doubtless referring to the comet of 1618, which was held responsible for the great Thirty Years’ War. Milton was only ten years old at the time, but the impression made on his mind by this magnificent comet with a train 104° long (or over twenty times the distance separating the pointers in the constellation of the Great Bear), “may well have lasted until he wrote the above lines as a man of fifty.”[1]

Elsewhere, in “Paradise Lost,” Milton refers to a comet as the brandish’d sword of God:

“... before them blaz’d Fierce as a Comet: which, with torrid heat, And vapours as the Lybian air adust, Began to parch that Temperate clime.”

According to the translation by Longfellow, Dante in his “Paradiso,” Canto XXIV, refers to comets as “souls beatified.”

“Thus Beatrice: and those souls beatified Transformed themselves to spheres on steadfast poles Flaming intensely in the guise of Comets.”

Turning to the _Avesta_ writings, we find that the Parsees of ancient Persia classified comets as parihs, or fairies. _Pari_ is the Iranian word for fairy, and is derived from the word “par,” meaning to tempt, to enchant. The English word “fairy” also comes from a similar root, “fier,” to enchant.

Nevertheless, these cometary fairies are not the dainty beings of English folk-lore, but are described in the _Avesta_ as “ill-born fairies,” their appearance in the sky inspiring terror, since they are supposed to bring disease, calamity, and death in their wake. In the picturesque language of the Persian writer, “the distress of the earth becomes as that of a sheep when a wolf falls upon it.”

The following quaint account of the influence of a comet is given in the _Avesta_.

“A hairy comet appeared in the year 662, Hijri, and the increase of the splendour of the world was in Leo. The strange thing was that it appeared to be of the proportion of the head of a big man and emitted steam from the front. It passed over the countries of Tibet, Turkestan, China, Kashgar and remained visible for 85 days. In all these countries there arose rebellions. In Khorassan calamities of thunder and lightning and other such phenomena appeared.

“Many years and many months had passed over this event, and then in 803, a tailed comet appeared in the zenith of Constantinople. Astrologers informed Timur that from what the wise and the experienced have said, it appears that an army coming from the direction of the east will be victorious in that country, and a general from that country will assist him. Timur (literally: the illuminator of the face of fortune), who was always expecting an invasion of the country, but whose companions of poor intelligence did not acquiesce, attended to that prediction and convinced the great and small of his court, of the truth and insight of the star-seers. The learned in the mysteries of the heavens are convinced of this, that if the comet appears within the boundaries of a country, its king dies. If it is inclined towards the boundary, the country of the governor passes away from his hands, and plague and disease add to the afflictions of the country.”[2]

Some of the Pahlavi books refer to a comet as “the thievish Mushpar provided with tails.” The comet was classified as an evil spirit in company with planets and meteors which wandered hither and thither; while the sun, moon, and fixed stars were considered good spirits, because they were always to be found at appointed times in their places in the sky.

In the mythology of China and Japan we find that comets were supposed to be celestial representatives of every country on the earth, and occupied the important position of ambassadors journeying from one celestial region to another, and giving forecasts of terrestrial events of importance. For this reason, careful records were kept of the dates of their appearance and the paths along which they traveled, thus enabling astronomers of to-day to trace back the path of Halley’s comet, for instance, to a very remote era. Whatever the motive that prompted the accumulation of records, they have proved of the utmost value.

Comets are called “broom stars” in China, a name derived from the form of their tails, which have the very prosaic name of brooms (sui or soui). A comet without a tail was referred to as merely a star, or a guest star, from its visiting the provinces and taking up its abode in different places, as at an inn.

“Their home was in the vestibule of the celestial palaces; there, under an invisible form, they awaited the order of departure,” says Pingré, “the order sent, they became visible and commenced their journey. If, whilst on their way they put forth a tail, the star was said to have become a comet.”

The above quotation, remarks the same author, explains:

“the foolish and singular idea that the Chinese formed of the heavens. According to them, the heavens represented a great empire, composed of kingdoms and provinces; these provinces were the constellations; there was decided all that would happen for good or ill to the great terrestrial empire, that is, to China. The planets were the administrators or superintendents of the celestial republic, the stars were their ministers, and the comets their couriers or messengers. The planets sent their messengers from time to time to visit the provinces for the purpose of restoring or maintaining order, but all that was done in the heavens above was either the cause or the forerunner of what was to happen below.”

The ideas of the Chinese were not more foolish than the extravagant myths of the ancients, and of the Europeans in the Middle Ages. Nevertheless, although comets are no longer regarded with superstitious awe, mystery still clings to them. For those who are unaware of the fact that astronomers can trace their paths, predict the periodic returns of these wanderers, and even analyze the substance of which they are composed, there are many problems concerning them still awaiting solution.