Stories from the stores

Capturing clouds in science and art

June 4th, 2010 | by | art, weather

Jun
04

You might wonder what this watercolour is doing in our Making the Modern World gallery. The chalky cliffs, thatched cottage and country children make a pleasant enough pastoral scene, but what does it have to do with science?

Watercolour by Edward Kennion with cloud study by Luke Howard

Watercolour by landscape artist Edward Kennion, c. 1807, based on a cloud study by Luke Howard (Science Museum / Science & Society)

The clue is in the sky, which represents ‘Cumulus breaking up; cirrus and cirrocumulus above’. These were the new names for the clouds, created by the meteorologist Luke Howard.

Portrait of Luke Howard by John Opie

Luke Howard, by the leading society portrait painter John Opie, c. 1807 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Howard was a commercial chemist who rose to fame after lecturing “On the Modification of Clouds” in 1802 to the Askesian Society, a scientific club founded by three young London Quakers. He proposed that, rather than being fleeting and innumerable, clouds could be reduced to just three families: cumulus, stratus and cirrus. Combinations were possible and clouds could change from one type to another. Howard was hailed as a genius who had grasped the clouds and brought them within the reach of science.

Cumulus, by Luke Howard

Cumulus in high wind, c. 1803, by Luke Howard. Howard used sketches to illustrate his talk and publications (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Amongst artists his reception was mixed. The German Romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich, for example, worried that ‘to force the free and airy clouds into a rigid order and classification’ would damage their expressive potential and even ‘undermine the whole foundation of landscape painting’.

John Constable disagreed, arguing that ’Painting is a science and should be pursued as an inquiry into the laws of nature. Why, then, may not landscape painting be considered a branch of natural philosophy, of which pictures are but the experiments?’ His cloud experiments have fascinated critics ever since.

British Rail poster, 1990

British Rail poster, 1990. Constable's cloudy landscapes have become emblematic of the British countryside. (Science Museum / Science & Society)

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The man with the weather eye

May 27th, 2010 | by | weather

May
27

Towards the close of 1837 Patrick Murphy announced that January 20th would be the coldest day of the coming year. The day duly arrived and bitter cold confirmed the prediction. Booksellers were besieged by hordes of people demanding copies of Murphy’s Weather Almanac, which contained predictions for the whole year based on planetary and lunar influences. Murphy made his name as a weather prophet and a small fortune too, but he didn’t escape criticism.     

Caricature of Murphy entitled "The Man with the Weather Eye"

This satirical cartoon references a comic play, in which a learned gentleman mistakes a potato seller named Murphy for the famous meteorologist. The telescope, moon and stars are references to Murphy's astrometeorological theories. (Science Museum / Science & Society)

To some, astrological almanacs simply betrayed the credulity of the British public. However in the 19th century ‘scientific’ and ‘non-scientific’ understandings of weather were not clearly distinguished.  

Take Robert Fitzroy. Better known as the captain of HMS Beagle, the fellow of the Royal Society headed the newly formed Meteorological Department of the Board of Trade (later the Meteorological Office) from 1854. Fitzroy was no astrologist but he did speculate that the moon influenced atmospheric conditions. And many shared his hope that, with sufficient data, predicting the weather might one day become as reliable as predicting the motions of the heavens.   

Fitzroy’s Department had two aims: collecting ‘accurate and digested observations for the future use of men of science’ and, more practically, aiding navigation. Fitzroy supplied instruments and charts to ships’ Captains, who in return sent meteorological data back to London. He also loaned barometers to coastal villages to help fishermen plan their work safely.       

Detail of a Fitzroy storm barometer, c. 1880

Fitzroy storm barometer, c. 1880 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Using telegraphy, Fitzroy gathered daily reports from a growing network of British and European observers. From 1861 he used this data to produce the first ’forecasts’, which were printed in the newspapers. They were eagerly consumed. However, some members of the scientific establishment worried that they blurred the boundaries between elite and popular forms of knowledge making.   

In 1866, following Fitzroy’s death, an official report found that ”the truth of [Fitzroy's forecasts] is warranted neither by science nor by experience”. Like Murphy’s almanac, they caused the public “to confuse real knowledge with ill founded pretences” and threatened the reputation of “true science”.  Against considerable resistance, the service was cancelled and for a time weather prediction was left to the successors of Patrick Murphy and his fellow weather prophets.

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“More Sensitive than the Most Perfect Barometer”

May 22nd, 2010 | by | medicine, weather

May
22

One of the most curious meteorology objects I’ve discovered recently is the weather glass. It was first described in 1558 by the Italian scholar Giambattista della Porta.    

Giambattista della Porta

Giambattista Della Porta (c.1535-1615) surrounded by representations of his many interests, which included natural history, astrology, alchemy, mathematics and natural philosophy (Science Museum Library / Science & Society)

Della Porta’s apparatus was essentially the same as the air thermoscope, which I wrote about a recently. The alternative design shown below was in use from the 1600s. As the air in the vessel expands and contracts water moves up and down the spout, indicating changing atmospheric conditions. 

Weather glass

Weather glass, 1700-1900 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Before air pressure was understood, the instrument was sometimes called a perpetuum mobile – perpetual motion – because the water level fluctuated with no known cause.

The English physician and mystic Robert Fludd (1574-1637) interpreted the weather glass as a ‘key to two worlds’. For him, it was a microcosmic symbol of the universe and a model for the human body. Others claimed that it could predict the weather days, weeks or even months in advance.  

By the 1660s leading experimental philosophers, who had recently begun to distinguish between temperature and air pressure and to use the thermometer and barometer respectively to measure them, tended to dismiss the weather glass since it responded to both variables.

However, it remained attractive for domestic use due to its simplicity, and portability: one maker claimed in 1917 that his was ‘More Sensitive than the Most Perfect Barometer’. Weather glasses can be bought on ebay and are still popular with amateur weather forecasters today. 

And whilst Fludd’s occult philosophy fell out of favour, some of his ideas persisted. Throughout the 1700s and 1800s many people continued to regard the weather glass and the barometer as reflections of the human body and psyche, since instruments and humans were both influenced by atmospheric conditions. 

Pamphlet by John Patrick, c.1710

Around 1710, John Patrick advertised this barometer/mirror combination, encouraging users to dress for the weather and perhaps reflect on the air's influence on their own health or mood (Science Museum / Science & Society)

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150 years of the British Rainfall Organisation

April 23rd, 2010 | by | weather

Apr
23

On Saturday I went to a conference commemorating the 150th anniversary of the foundation of the British Rainfall Organisation (BRO), organised by the history group of the Royal Meteorological Society. Here’s what I discovered…

The British Rainfall Organisation demonstrates the importance of networks in meteorology. It was founded in 1860 by George James Symons to coordinate rainfall observations by volunteers “of both sexes, all ages, and all classes”. 

George James Symons

Symons was known as kind man, who was supportive of his volunteers and had a twinkle in his eye (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Every morning at 9am hundreds of observers across the country (by 1900 there were 3,408 stations in Symons’s network) scurried into their back garden to inspect their rain gauges. They sent their results back to Symons, who analysed them and published them in British Rainfall magazine. In 1919 the BRO was taken over by the Met Office (who now make some of their rainfall data available online). However, ‘amateur’ observers still make important contributions to meteorology today, and I met some of them at the conference.

Luke Howard's Rain Gauge, 1818

This particular rain guage, made in 1818, belonged to the famous meteorologist Luke Howard (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Site inspections and other quality control measures are an important aspect of managing any observation network. During a talk about the present-day rainfall network, I found out what this shiny instrument in our collection is for.  

Kiff mushroom rain gauge exposure meter

A common issue with rain gauges is how exposed they are to wind, with very sheltered and very open sites both leading to inaccuracies. During a site inspection, this instrument is placed on top of the gauge and the domed surface reflects all the nearby obstacles – fences, hedges, buildings, etc. The scale allows exposure to be measured.

Clever. But everyone knows what the most useful, mushroom-like, rain-related instrument really is… 

Toad buying an umbrella

This print, produced around 1845, satirised the fashion for umbrellas (Science Museum / Science and Society)

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A lot of hot air?

April 13th, 2010 | by | materials, weather

Apr
13

How did you enjoy the hottest day of the year so far on Sunday? It got me thinking about what else we have in the collection relating to temperature.
 
For simplicity, I like this modern reconstruction of an apparatus which Philo of Byzantium devised back in 200 – 100 BC to indicate temperature change. A hollow, lead globe is attached to a tube, which is bent over into a container of water. You can probably guess what happens when the globe is warmed…
Reproduction of Philo's thermoscope

Reproduction of Philo's apparatus for indicating temperature change (Science Museum / Science & Society)

Philo explained:  

I assert that when the globe is placed in the sun and becomes warm, some of the air enclosed in the tube will pass out … into the water, setting it in motion and producing air bubbles, one after the other. If the globe be placed in the shade … then the water will rise through the tube and flow into the globe. 

Some seventeen or so centuries later Philo’s idea was revisited, leading to the invention of the air thermoscope. The Italian physician Santorio Santorio was one of several Europeans working on it simultaneously.

Illustration of Santorio's air thermoscope

The two pieces of string tied round this air thermoscope indicate a rise in temperature. From Sanctorii Sanctorii, ... Ars de statica medicina, etc., 1625 (Wellcome Library, London)

Santorio’s instrument is in two parts. The glass bulb and tube are heated to expel some air, and the end of the tube is inverted into the narrow vessel containing water. As the air inside the bulb cools it contracts, drawing liquid up into the tube.  Once it has been set up, the changing water level indicates rising and falling temperature.

Santorio later put a scale on the thermoscope, creating the first air thermometer.  The air thermometer was supplanted by the more familiar liquid-in-glass thermometer from the 1640s. More on that another time. 

Combined thermometer and alcohol barometer, 1719

Combined thermometer and alcohol barometer, 1719 (Science Museum / Science & Society)

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