My dearest Nephew,—

I do not know where to begin, for I see it is nearly a twelvemonth since I gave some account of myself, and in all that time never returned my thanks for the three letters I received.... I have a great deal to say, and will begin with accounting for my long silence, by confessing that I have throughout the whole winter been too ill to do anything besides nursing myself, and putting myself in a condition to appear before strangers, which I am not able to do till after twelve or one at noon, and the time which I wanted to rest after my exertion and getting my breakfast was generally taken up by pacifying the gulls about the foolish paragraphs they had been reading the night before in the Clubs. I never read, or would read, any of them, but when I heard of anything appearing rational concerning you, I copied or procured the paper for myself, and then I found among the rest a letter of yours to Professor Plana, in Turin, dated December 28th, 1834. And not being able to do anything of use to you myself, I begged Capt. Müller to cause those observations of June 21st, &c., to be made by somebody here in Hanover, and the enclosed letter will, I hope, meet with a gracious reception.... I believe Dr. Heere will not fail the next equinox to be at his post, and you may hear more of him.

Capt. Müller is at present with Gauss, and will deliver all your messages personally, for you must know I beware of corresponding with all those known ones if I can possibly help it, and have through his hands sent copies of your father’s likeness to Struve, Schumacher, Gauss, Bessel, Encke, Olbers, &c. Gauss sent me word it was hung up in his library. Encke sent me a very pretty letter of thanks.

... That sending is an ugly thing. Mrs. Somerville sent me her book with a letter dated April 16th, which I received October 9th, coming along with Mr. Baily’s publication, presented by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty to Miss Herschel. You cannot think how agitated I feel on such occasions, coming to me with such things!—an old poor sick creature in her dotage.... I was going to say something yet of Mr. Baily’s labours, but the paper is at an end; but I hope you will now soon read in your own library at Slough what the “Quarterly Review,” No. CIX., says, and what your Cambridge friend Whewell and others have said—in short, Newton remains Newton! God bless my dear nephew and niece!... My heart is too full—I can say no more than that

My dearest Niece,—

From June 14 to October the 1st, and not any the least account, was rather too much for me to bear, especially during the months when those few friends who sometimes cheer me by a friendly call had all left the town to make summer excursions....

I have a few memorandums for my nephew, and will for the present take leave of my dear niece with my most heartfelt wishes that every future account with which I may yet be blessed from her dear hand may be like the last.

... I have four complete years of the Astronom. Nachrichten ready bound for you.... I wished to give you the number of the paper (but cannot find it again) where Bessel speaks of Saturn’s satellites, but my eyes are so dim, and I am too unwell for doing anything. I will therefore only say he has seen the 6th but not the 7th, the ring being in the way. In No. 293, two of Bessel’s assistants, Beer and Mädler, say a great deal about the observations of your father, but that goes all for nothing. I will only say in general that he did in one season more than any one else could have done, and would have resumed the hunt the next fifteen years if nothing had interfered. And the Georgium Sidus was followed as long as anything could be obtained from that planet, and it will yet be some twenty years before he will be in that favourable situation in the ecliptic where he was at the time when the satellites were discovered.

I have seen Struve’s Catalogue of Double Stars, wherein I find he agrees with your and your father’s observations.... Do not think, my dear nephew, that I would expose myself so as to say a word about these things to anybody else, but to you I cannot help letting it out when I am nettled.

I must leave off gossiping, else I shall not get this letter away, in which you will find Dr. H.’s barometrical observations, which I received a few days ago....

My dear Aunt,—

I am now at work on the spots in the sun, and the general subject of solar radiation, which you know occupied a large portion of my father’s attention. The present is an admirable opportunity for studying these things, as the sun is infested now with spots to a greater degree than ever I knew it, and they are arranged over its surface in a manner singularly interesting and instructive. The sky here is so pure and clear in our summer that it would be a shame to neglect such an opportunity of making experiments on heat, and accordingly I have been occupied in the December solstice in determining the constant of solar radiation, that is to say, the absolute quantity of heat sent down to the earth’s surface from the sun at noon, or at a vertical incidence.

I do not think I have ever mentioned to you a remarkable and splendid instance of liberality on the part of His Grace of Northumberland, who has taken upon himself to defray the expenses of publishing my observations at the Cape, and that in a manner the most delicate and considerate imaginable. In consequence “my book” will appear, when it does appear, under his auspices, and I hope it will not do discredit to his munificence. This is not the only, nor the most remarkable, instance however, of his attachment to the cause of science, and his disposition to promote and support it.

... I have for the last five months been in continued fear of losing Mrs. Beckedorff (to whom I could confide all my grievances). She is worn out with a cough and breaking up of constitution, and we but seldom can come together, which is when I am able to cross the street to go to her.... I experience a daily increase of pain and feebleness, so that I am (at least during this severe weather) totally confined to my solitary home; and what is worse, my eyes will not serve me to amuse myself with reading. But what business had I to live so very long?

... I will try to entertain you with some celestial affairs in which it is delightful to find you still taking so much interest. As you allude to Saturn’s satellites in your letter of October 20, I must tell you that I have at last got decisive observations of the sixth satellite (the farthest of my father’s new ones). I had all but given the search up in despair, when no longer ago than last Thursday (May 4th inst.), being occupied in taking measures of the angles of position of the five old satellites with the twenty-foot and a polished new mirror, behold, there stood Mr. Sixth! a little short of its preceding elongation. I have kept it well in sight from 14^h 26^m Sid. T. till 16^h 35^m, in which time it had advanced visibly in its orbit from below the line of the ansæ (as in figure) to above. In this interval the planet had moved over fully one diameter of the body towards the preceding side, and, therefore, had it been a star, must have passed over it, whereas it preserved the same apparent distance all the while from the edge of the ring. (N.B. Saturn not very far from the zenith on merid.)

Next night, Friday, May 5, Saturn most gloriously seen: quite as sharp as any copper-plate engraving, with power 240 and full aperture. All the five old satellites seen and measured, being now on the opposite side. Now considerably short of its greatest following elongation; distance just as before; and, as on Thursday, it was kept in view long enough for Saturn to have left it behind by its own motion had it been a star. The change of situation agrees perfectly with the period 1^d 9^h, which is also the reason why it was not seen May 5th, being on that night near its inferior conjunction. So this is at last a thing made out. As for No. Seven I have no hope of ever seeing it.

If your eyesight will not suffer from it, do write to Bessel. I am sure he will be interested by this observation, as he is the only astronomer who troubles himself about the system of Saturn. I shall myself write to him shortly about it, but should like to have a few more observations.

So now farewell once more, and, with many kind remembrances to all Hanoverian friends,

... From Mr. Schumacher I receive each paper as it comes from the press, but always with a feeling of uneasiness, because I am not one of those who can contribute anything to their valuable communications, nor even understand all which my defective eyes allow me to read. But they interest me exceedingly when I think what you will say. For instance, to a paper of twenty-two quarto pages, by Bessel, “Über den Einfluss der Unregelmässigkeiten der Erde, auf geodetische Arbeiten und ihre Vergleichung mit den astronomischen Bestimmungen.”^[50] Perhaps you may have received these papers before this reaches you, but if any are lost by the way, I collect them for you; but I fear I shall not see the day of all the wonders coming to light when you return with your budget....

... I must conclude, for writing at any time makes me sad; and since I began this letter the notice of the death of our King has arrived, and the Duke of Cumberland has been this day proclaimed King of Hanover. It makes me feel as if I was doubly separated from England, for your King is now no longer my King. And we lose the Duke of Cambridge, who was ever so kind to me wherever he saw me. Last winter he introduced me to his brother, then Duke of Cumberland, who was here on a visit, at the concert, who spoke to me of you first as my son, but recollected himself that I was only aunt....

I had illuminated my front rooms with twenty candles (snuffed them all myself, for Betty was out to see the show) on the evening of the King’s arrival, and so I shall again next Saturday or Sunday, when the Queen is expected. More I cannot do!...

... My head becomes crowded with melancholy forebodings of my not lasting so long as to hear of your safe return to your home and the friends which I think are only to be found in happy England; so, instead of tracing my gloomy imaginations on paper, I go to sleep till Betty rouses me with a cup of coffee.... But all I hear of you is told in a tone of admiration, &c., &c., and it is felt by me like a drop of oil supplying my expiring lamp.

My dear Aunt,—

I need hardly say how much we are rejoiced to see your handwriting once more, though that joy is damped by your complaints of winter indisposition. And such a winter! by all accounts. May this prove a better! and may we hope to find you in no worse health and spirits when we come to see you next summer in Hanover. For so, if it please God to lead us safe home, according to our present altered plans, we most assuredly propose to do.

I say our altered plans, for you know our intention was to have embarked next March for Rio Janeiro, and there to have spent two or three months, after which to have taken passage in the Brazilian packet for England, which would have probably detained us till October, and have rendered a visit to Hanover that season impracticable. But by striking off this Brazilian trip, and taking our course directly homewards, so much time will be saved, and all the rest of our domestic arrangements become so much simplified that it seems like finding a treasure, as a fund of time will thereby be placed at our disposal, the first fruits of which, as in all love and duty bound, we have determined to devote to you; or rather, I should say, that, when in talking over with Margaret all the pro’s and con’s of the question, whether to return home direct, or viâ Brazil?—this consideration at once decided it in favour of the direct course, her desire to see you outweighing every consideration of amusement or temporary gratification which a visit to Rio could offer. So now be sure, dear aunty, and keep yourself well, and let us find you in your best looks and spirits; and, although what you say respecting our good Mrs. Beckedorff’s health is somewhat deplorable, yet I will indulge the hope that she too will perform a part in the dramatis personæ of that happy meeting. Meanwhile, as the time of our departure hence approaches, we shall take care and apprise you of all our movements, respecting which it is impossible at present to speak more precisely.

My dear Madam,—

Having just been informed by the newspapers that your nephew is safely landed in this country, I hasten to write you a few lines by this night’s mail to congratulate you most sincerely on this event, which I know will give you pleasure.

I am unable to send you any further details about him or his family, as I am not aware if he is arrived as yet in town, and should this not be the case, my letter will perhaps be the first to give you this welcome news, which I shall certainly be delighted at.

I trust you continue enjoying your health; and with best wishes, &c., &c.,

Here we are, my dear aunt, at last, safely landed and housed, all in good health and, as you may suppose, in good spirits at our return. We ourselves and our six little ones were very comfortable during our nine weeks’ voyage in the good ship Windsor, which is lying snug and sound in the river at Blackwall, with all our things on board, telescopes and all (as well as the astronomical results of our expedition). We left our ship, however, at the entrance of the Channel, and got to London in a steamer under the flag of King Leopold, of Belgium, which, having been to Glasgow to take in her machinery, was returning without passengers, not yet being fitted up for their reception. This was a most opportune and unexpected piece of good fortune, as I assure you we found most sensibly, by the non-arrival of the ship till this morning, having been four days longer at sea, beating about against contrary winds. I have more particulars to tell than would fill this paper, which I must reserve till our meeting, which will not now be longer delayed than is indispensable for getting our baggage on shore, and passing it through the Custom House, and transporting it by a barge to Windsor, and so to Slough. I hope and trust to find you as well in health as your two letters to John Stewart and Mary Baldwin allow us to suppose....

The visit promised in the foregoing letter was paid in July, when Sir John Herschel, accompanied by his little son, spent a few days with his aunt, whose intense anxiety as to the proper treatment of her little grand-nephew—his sleep, his food, his playthings—kept her in a constant state of alarm on his account. “I,” she writes, “rather suffered him to hunger than would let him eat anything hurtful; indeed, I would not let him eat anything at all without his papa was present.” Great as was the joy of the dear venerable lady to rest her aged eyes once more on almost the only living being upon whom she poured some of that wealth of affection with which her heart never ceased to overflow, it is on the disappointments and shortcomings of those few precious days that she dwells; and, if she could have felt resentment towards her nephew, it would have been roused by the abrupt termination of his visit. Her lamentations are piteous. Solely with the intention of sparing her feelings, her nephew went away without letting her know the exact time beforehand of his departure, and made no formal leave-taking, when he bade her good-night to return to his inn. To her infinite dismay and distress, she found that he and his son had quitted Hanover at four o’clock on the following morning. It was kindly intended, but it was a mistake that gave intense pain. Her introduction to her little grand-nephew is described as follows by his father:—

... “Now let me tell you how things fell out. Dr. Groskopff took Willie with him to aunty, but without saying who he was. Says she, ‘What little boy is that?’ Says he, ‘The son of a friend of mine. Ask him his name.’ However, Willie would not tell his name. ‘Where do you come from, little fellow?’ ‘From the Cape of Good Hope,’ says Willie. ‘What is that he says?’ ‘He says he comes from the Cape of Good Hope.’ ‘Ay? and who is he? What is his name?’ ‘His name is Herschel.’ ‘Yes,’ says Willie, ‘William James Herschel.’ ‘Ach, mein Gott! das ist nicht möglich; ist dieser meines Neffen’s Sohn?’ And so it all came out, and when I came to her all was understood, and we sat down and talked as quietly as if we had parted but yesterday....

“Groskopff, by the way, was recounting a strange feat which, to give you some notion of the sort of person (par rapport au physique), she performed, not longer than half a year ago. Remember it is a person of eighty-eight or eighty-nine of whom we are speaking. Well! what do you say of such a person being able to put her foot behind her back and scratch her ear, in imitation of a dog, with it, in one of her merry moods?”

The “Day-Book,” as already stated, had been recommenced in the year 1833. The first volume of the new Day-Book concludes in May, 1837, with comments on Baily’s account of Flamsteed, and recollections of days spent at Greenwich in 1799, when she had seen and wondered at the piles of manuscripts accumulated there. “Dr. Maskelyne was not indifferent to the stores of observations of his predecessor, for he even attempted to make me undertake the examination of some of Halley’s scribblings on fragments of waste paper [to see if they] might not belong to some star or other. But such things cannot be done in a moment, and the parcel was restored to its dusty shelf. Poor Dr. Maskelyne had but one assistant, with a salary of £70 a-year, whom I once heard lament that all the planets happened to pass the meridian in the night-time!”

The entries are chiefly of the numerous visitors she received, but there are frequent intervals of several months when illness or disinclination to write prevented her continuing her Journal regularly. The English Quarterly and Monthly Reviews and newspapers, and James’s novels, supplied her with constant reading, and every allusion to her brother’s or her nephew’s labours is carefully noted. It is evident that she still was in the habit of taking ample notes of any book that interested her, in spite of complaints of the growing failure of sight, and that, when tolerably well, no day was considered altogether satisfactory which was passed in solitude. It was in May, 1833, that she moved to No. 376, Braunschweiger Strasse, and here she continued to dwell for the remainder of her days.

My dearest Niece,—

I hope that when you receive this my dear nephew, with his precious charge (little William), will be safely restored to your longing arms, and that he may have found you, with all the little family, in perfect health. I wish to be assured by a few lines from your dear hands as soon as possible, for I cannot divest myself of a fear that the botheration and intrusion of some of the stupid Hanoverians must have been very inconvenient to him. To which may be added the change of weather from excessive heat to very cold and wet, to which at this present moment (as far as I know) they are still exposed, for I think they must be now in Hamburg....

My dear Aunt,—

Willie and I arrived in London safe and hearty on Friday night about eight o’clock, and I am happy to say we found all here quite well—both mamma and all the little folks, who, as you may easily imagine, were in great joy, and full of enquiries about you and about all our adventures in foreign parts. Grandmamma Stewart, and all her circle also, with exception of poor James S. (who is, however, much better, and we hope permanently), are well, and join us in kind enquiries after you. I found here my cousin, Thomas Baldwin, and his excellent and most amiable wife. Cousin Mary had left us, and was returned to Anstey.

I found Dr. Olbers well, and have to thank you, in his name, for the Cape wine, a bottle of which was produced at dinner the day I dined there. I assure you it was drank in good company, being associated (not mixed) with Hock of 240 years of age!! Dr. O. is weak and corpulent, but is otherwise in the full enjoyment of his mental faculties, and in good spirits.

I could not persuade myself to encounter a regular parting with you, and, in fact, I found the distance to Bremen so much greater, on enquiry, than I had fancied it, that it was necessary to leave Hanover at four a.m., which, of course, prevented all further meeting. We shall be most anxious to hear from you. M. will write in a day or two (and so will the children) to thank you for all your kind remembrances of them, and for the many pretty and valuable things you have sent; and till then, believe me,

My dearest Nephew,—

By the arrival of your letter of the 6th I was relieved from my fears for the safety of you and your dear little fellow-traveller, almost a week sooner than I had reason to hope.

... I had so longed for a few hours of confidential conversation with you which would have spared me the unpleasant task of writing about earthly matters.... My good neighbours came to wish me joy, and congratulate me on having seen my glorious nephew and his son (who has left no few admirers behind, I can tell you).

Dr. Mühry has lost a sister, a solitary old maid, like myself, whom they could not leave till she was buried. But she was in some respects better off than I, for I found it necessary to order all these matters myself. Miss Beckedorff and Mde. Knipping will at my death have to deliver a sealed packet to Dr. Groskopff, my executor, in which, on his opening in their presence, he will find the means requisite for discharging all the items specified in an enclosed memorandum of directions. Such matters I had wished to talk over with you, thinking it not unnecessary you should know a little about the way in which I have always managed my affairs. As soon as I was left to myself, in the year 1788, I kept a book strictly accounting for my expenses, which was to serve as a voucher of the orderly life I led. But being frequently under the necessity of assisting one or other of my, as I thought, poor (but say extravagant) relations, I began to keep a spare box, by way of showing to what extent I have thus robbed myself.... I am sorry to trouble you with such details, but I find myself so unwell at present that I cannot rest till I have cautioned you not to ask any question about me of any one, for nobody knows anything about me—my confidence in Mrs. Beckedorff, even, can only be partial, as we can only see each other so seldom.

I see by the postscripts you directed my nephew to add to your letter that you know exactly what will make his poor old aunt happy; and I must beg you to make my peace with my dear little William, for I fear the angry looks I gave him when seeing him climbing too high on an open window two stories above the pavement, can have left no favourable impression on his recollection. Unfortunately we could not converse together: he talked too soft and quick for me (I do not hear so well as formerly), and my mixture of German and English was not intelligible to him.... Had the knitting with beads been known forty years sooner, it would have been one of the accomplishments with which I came, at the age of twenty-two, into England in 1772, for there was no kind of ornamental needlework, knotting, plaiting hair, stringing beads and bugles, &c., of which I did not make samples by way of mastering the art. But as it was my lot to be the Cinderella of the family (being the only girl) I could never find time for improving myself in many things I knew, and which, after all, proved of no use to me afterwards, except what little I knew of music, being just able to play the second violin of an overture or easy quartette, which my father took a pleasure in teaching me. N.B. When my mother was not at home. Amen. I must think no more of those times, only just say I came to Bath with a mind eager to learn and to work, and never changed my mind till I came here again, but now I can no more.... One thing I must tell my nephew, which is, that I hope I have found a deserving protector of my sweeper in Director Hausmann, and I hope either himself or his son will find us a few comets with it yet. He is a constant visitor of mine.

My dear Aunt,—

I have received a letter from Sir Wm. Hamilton, Astronomer Royal, Dublin, informing me that the Royal Irish Academy have elected you an honorary member of that body. The diploma is by this time on its way to my care, and I will, so soon as I receive it, take the very first secure opportunity of transmitting it to you.

Yesterday I received your most welcome letter and Mr. Boguslawski’s in one. I wrote to him some time ago relative to Halley’s comet. He seems a very diligent observer, and I am glad you have seen him.

Your letter of September 24th, with its numerous dates, was like a little diary, and almost made us fancy ourselves with you in Hanover....

I am sorry to see, on looking at my banker’s account, that you have not (as you promised to do) drawn on Cohen for the £50 of this half year. Pray do, and that soon, or I shall be sadly disappointed.

We have got a most excellent president for the Royal Society in the Marquis of Northampton. He presided at the anniversary dinner on the 30th, and did the honours with great credit.

A Copley Medal was awarded to Gauss for his researches, theoretical and practical, on the subject of terrestrial magnetism.

My dear Nephew,—

First and foremost let me dispatch what may be called business. In the first place, I thank you for your kind letter and communication of having so great an honour conferred on me as to be admitted an honorary member of the Royal Irish Academy. I cannot help crying out aloud to myself, every now and then, What is THAT for? Next I must beg you to return my thanks in what words you think proper I should express them, and if you will only send me a copy of the diploma, and keep the original along with my other trophies, allowing them perhaps a corner in some such box as that your dear mother had for suchlike things, for I have no other desire but to be remembered by you and Lady H., and your children, for yet awhile....

... It is a long while since you asked me if I wanted any of my Indexes to Flamsteed’s Catalogue of omitted stars. If there should yet be any left, I could wish to have one or two; for you hinted to me I might leave Baily’s work to the “Archives” here, which I intend to do, and then I should like to give an Index along with it.

I see, to my sorrow, that my letter was not come to hand at the time when you directed the parcel with the diploma, which was sent me on the 2nd of January, accompanied by a note from the President, which I beg you will answer for me, and for that purpose transcribe here the same:—

“Madam,—

“In transmitting to you the accompanying Diploma from the Royal Irish Academy, I wish to be allowed to add, as I thus do, the expression of my own high sense of your services to Astronomy, and of the eminent degree in which you have deserved the present testimonial.

Dear Nephew,—

Do not you think I have been very good to let the most dismal month in the year pass without troubling you for accounts of the progress my dear niece is making in her recovery?

My dear niece said once, I should write often, and in few lines inform her how I go on, so I must say—I get up as usual every day, change my clothing, eat, drink, and go to sleep again on the sofa, except I am roused by visitors; then I talk till I can no more—nineteen to the dozen! N.B. I don’t tell fibs, though they may not always like what I say.

I have been twice at the concert, and each time been honoured with a wie gehts?^[51] by His Majesty, and the notice of many acquaintances whom I have no opportunity of seeing elsewhere, the public concerts being the only place where I can go with the least trouble to myself or others. You say when I talk of the Gelehrten then all goes well, but I know nothing about them....

But one piece of news I must tell you, which is, that a fortnight after Dr. Mädler had been the conductor of Mde. Witte (the Moon) and her daughter to the meeting at Pyrmont, I received two cards, the one, “Professor Dr. Mädler,” under it, “Minna Witte-Verlobt.^[52]” The reason Madame Witte gives for this hasty courtship is, that it is Dr. M.’s first love, and that he would not wait, so the lady said yes! As you have seen this lady, I would give you this piece of news.

I beg you will give a true account of my dear niece’s and the children’s health, not forgetting the babe and how she will be named, that I may enter the same in my biographical account.

The second Day-Book concludes in July, 1839, and is in all respects like the preceding one, but contains here and there touches and sentiments of which her own words can only do justice.

Aug. 3rd.—I went to buy some clothing for wearing at home, and went to my mantua-maker to give directions. I had to climb up to the third story, and I was of course quite knocked up when I came home, but it is my intention to continue to take some exercise as long as the weather and the length of the afternoon will permit.

Aug. 26th.—My niece Knipping came in the afternoon to assist me in some needlework—we did not do much!

Sept. 25th.—To-day I was made happy by a visit of Alexander Humboldt; which, though it was extended to the utmost limit of the time which this interesting man could spare me, was too short for all I wished to hear and had to say, which, as the theme of our conversation was my nephew, may be easily imagined.

Oct. 5th & 6th.—Mr. Hohenbaum and the carpenter were with me to pack up the seven-foot telescope. I assisted as well as I could, being very ill all the while.