Cheseaux’s Comet of 1744

Okay, so maybe you’re not that crazy about comets, but I promise you’ll like No. 5 in our Comet of the Week: the famous Cheseaux’s Comet of 1744, or, as I like to call it, The Great Singing Comet.

Cheseaux's Comet

What distinguishes this comet, spotted in late 1743 by, among others, the Swiss astronomer Jean-Philippe de Cheseaux, was its remarkable six-rayed tail.

“The comet arrived at perihelion on March 1 by which time it was bright enough to be observed in daylight with the naked eye. After perihelion a spectacular multiple tail developed which rose well above the morning horizon, in a dark sky while the head was still well below that same horizon. The tail formed a giant fan comprised of six multiple tails. While astronomers were familiar with comets having two tails (a straight gas or ion tail and a curved dust trail), one with six was something completely different.” (From Hunting and Imaging Comets, by Martin Mobberley, 2011.)

But wait! It gets better: Cheseaux’s comet made noise. Yes. Chinese astronomers, who also observed it, reported hearing sounds issuing from the comet. I like to imagine it as a kind of singing:

“Mysteriously, some of the Chinese records of this comet describe atmospheric sounds when the object was at its peak. In an era when there were no planes or cars how can this be explained? Maybe the sounds were distant animals howling in terror at the sight of such an awesome spectacle?” (Mobberly.)

The Australian Bureau of Meteorology offers this possible explanation for sounds emanating from falling stars and comets:

“This was one of closest cometary approaches on record. If the comet’s charged particles or magnetic field interacted with the magnetosphere, VLF waves may have been generated to produce electrophonic sounds at ground level.”

There you have it.

After the nights of March 7-8, Cheseaux’s Comet was never seen, or heard from, again. But it achieved such great and flashing fame that for a time it appeared on German coins.

Off On A Comet

Off On a Comet
Illustration from 1877 edition of Jules Verne’s novel “Off On A Comet” (Fr. title “Hector Servadac”). It’s a strange story in which a comet crashes through the Earth and carries away part of the Mediterranean and surrounding land, plus a few people. They ride the comet for two years until its orbit takes them back by the Earth, at which point they contrive to escape the comet and return home.

In the chapter of this illustration, Hector Servadac and his servant, not yet aware that they’re riding on a comet, discover that they can jump very high because of a loss of gravity.

A Comet a Week

As a lead up to the July 30th release of THE NIGHT OF THE COMET, I’m going to feature a famous comet a week on this blog.

Blatant self-promotion, yes, but you might enjoy it. Collect all the comets and you’ll win . . . I don’t know. Something special.

This week’s comet, one of history’s most famous: Constantine’s Comet.

Constantine's Comet

You might be familiar with the legend: Constantine the Great, Roman Emperor and founder of Constantinople (today’s Istanbul), converted to Christianity in the 4th century when he had a vision of a cross burning in the sky above a battlefield:

He saw with his own eyes in the heavens a trophy of the cross arising from the light of the sun, carrying the message, In Hoc Signo Vinces or ‘with this sign, you will conquer.’

He commanded his soldiers to make the mark the cross on their shields, and thus he won the battle.

Some maintain that the light in the sky Constantine saw was a comet, “Constantine’s Comet.”

The Great Comet of 1910

Another find from Stephen Ellcock, a series of French postcards published to commemorate the appearance of The Great Comet of 1910.

Great Comet of 1910

An odd narrative in the cards: The Earth, Moon, and Sun are anxiously watching the approach of the comet. At first they welcome the comet, but then the comet strikes the Earth, getting one of its points embedded near Alaska. The Moon and the Sun pull the comet free, and it sails off, crying blood tears, while the Earth recovers with a bandage.

Heavenly Images

Stephen Ellcock has pulled together some terrific “Pre-Space Age Images of the Heavens” on his Facebook page “The Celestial Archives.”

Here’s one I like:  “Donati’s Comet, October 8, 1858 at 8 o’clock at night.  From the walls of the Horse Gate.”  (Or something like that; my Czecho-Slovak’s pretty sketchy.)  Thanks, Mr. Ellcock.

Donati's Comet