Showing posts with label Cavendish Laboratory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cavendish Laboratory. Show all posts

Monday, 7 October 2013

Video: Connecting with Collections Symposium

I was pleased to be able to speak at (and help organise) the Connecting with Collections Symposium a few weeks ago.  That event showcased some of the work that was done as part of the AHRC-funded Connecting with Collections internship scheme.

The day went pretty well, I think.  For those that weren't able to make it, I have put a recording of my presentation together with the slides I used, to create a lovely video which summarises the research I did during my internship.  I hope you enjoy watching it!  As always, I'd be very grateful for any feedback in the Comments section.

Below the video you can find the abstract of my paper.  And if you're interested in some of the themes it raises, why not check out the Symposium keynote address by Sam Alberti, Director of the Hunterian Museum, on the Connecting with Collections blog?


“King Arthur’s Table” is not a table, nor has it anything to do with King Arthur.  It is a twentieth-century reconstruction of a fourteenth-century astronomical instrument: a planetary equatorium described in a manuscript attributed to Geoffrey Chaucer.  Conceived by historian of science Derek Price as a huge, tangible realisation of Chaucerian astronomy for Cambridge’s then-newly-opened Whipple Museum of the History of Science, it was displayed, discarded, stored, catalogued with that rather whimsical name, and finally rediscovered.

This paper will use the biography of King Arthur’s Table as a route to understanding the early, inchoate years of both a museum and the discipline of history of science.  Its construction in the Cavendish Laboratory, under the patronage of Sir Lawrence Bragg, and its first display at the Royal Society allow it to tell us much about the significant scientific institutions and figures of that period.  Intended both as a replica instrument and as an homage to the life and work of a great historical figure, its own life story has reflected changing research priorities and curatorial attitudes, especially concerning reconstructions.

Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Titbits in the archives: how to make and move an equatorium

This post is cross-posted from the Connecting with Collections blog.

At the start of this project I was only hoping to find some documentation linked to the equatorium that Derek Price built - so I was amazed when I found the equatorium itself.  It's now on display in the Whipple Museum for the History of Science (open Monday-Friday, 12.30-4.30; admission free).

But I still haven't found much of the documentation I was searching for in the first place.  I imagined I'd be able to track down at least a few references to the equatorium in the archives... but I've had little luck.  As always, of course, we researchers are dependent on what people thought was worth keeping.  In my case, because both the Cavendish Laboratory and Derek de Solla Price made big moves (to west Cambridge and the USA, respectively) not long after the equatorium was made, very few papers are conserved from that period.

However, I have had a little luck in other archives, and with the help of Derek Price's family I've been able to piece together a few more details about the early life of King Arthur's Table.

As I explained in a previous post, it was made in the Cavendish Laboratory, which was run at the time by Sir Lawrence Bragg.  Bragg had deliberately structured the Cavendish to create plenty of spare capacity in the workshops, so that experiments would never be delayed for want of a particular piece of equipment.  This helps explain how it was that a History student was able to get a model of a medieval astronomical instrument made by technicians who were more used to working on cutting-edge apparatus for experiments in molecular biology or metal physics.

What I hadn't realised was how quickly Price got the model made.  He first examined the manuscript in December 1951 and within weeks, it seems, refocused his entire research to place this one document at the centre.  As his diary shows, by March he was ready to make a model of the instrument described in the manuscript.

The model - King Arthur's Table - was certainly complete by May, because that month Price showed it off at a "Conversazione" at the Royal Society in London.  (In fact it's likely that the opportunity to describe his research at the Royal Society was a significant spur to the model's production.)

One thing I'd been wondering about this episode is how Price was able to move the model to the Royal Society.  After all, it was stuck in storage for many years precisely because it was too big to fit in a car!  As it turns out, Price had some help.  In the private papers of Rupert Hall, Price's supervisor and the first curator of the Whipple Museum, I came across a note detailing the travel arrangements for the Conversazione.  As neither Price nor the Museum had the capacity to transport such an item, Hall arranged to borrow the Chemical Laboratory van for the day.  The note instructs Hall to contact "a Mr Thompson" in the Department of Chemistry, in order to make the final arrangements.

In themselves, such diary entries and typewritten notes provide little information.  But they are small pieces of a much larger puzzle; it is through such scattered evidence that we must attempt to construct a coherent narrative.  I've realised how unlikely I am to have a "Eureka!" moment in the archives.  Rather, one must be grateful for whatever small titbits on offer, and make the best possible use of them in building better historical understanding.

Tuesday, 8 January 2013

King Arthur's Table: From Cavendish to Whipple

Remember when I found King Arthur's Round Table?  I told the story way back in my second ever blog post.  Go and have a read if you've not already - it's quite the Indiana Jones adventure.  Or just skip to the summary below...

SUMMARY: Six-foot model of "my" equatorium built for top historian of science Derek de Solla Price in 1950s.  Long lost.  Found but not identified and renamed "King Arthur's Table" by witty cataloguer.  Found in the Whipple stores by me, with help from the curators.

Now I've just started a new project studying this model.  My research will be part of the Connecting with Collections programme run by the University of Cambridge Museums.  It's a six-month research-based internship, and we interns will be blogging as a group here.

So what's the research about?
King Arthur's Table symbolizes a fascinating moment in the history of science and of Cambridge University.  It was built in the Cavendish Laboratory - in the same building, at almost exactly the same time, that Crick and Watson were working on the structure of DNA.  In the same year as that great breakthrough, 1953, Robert S. Whipple died.  He had already made substantial donations to found a new museum and a new university department - History and Philosophy of Science - next door to the Cavendish.

Derek Price was one of the first people to work in the new Whipple Museum.  He was friends with Lawrence Bragg, the youngest-ever Nobel laureate and director of the Cavendish.  The "Table" was made for Price in the Cavendish workshops - a 20th-century replica of a 14th-century instrument that, despite not being "authentic", was destined to hang in the new Museum of the History of Science.

daddy and baby equatoria
Tracing this history, by studying contemporary documents as well as the instrument itself, I reckon I can learn a lot about the glory days of the Cavendish Laboratory, the foundation of the Whipple Museum, and History of Science as a new discipline and university department in the postwar years.  There's also lots to learn about the way museum collections are put together and curated; the way we view the past and its representation today.

Hopefully the "Table" will soon be back on display in the Whipple Museum after a gap of almost exactly 50 years, together with a computer model showing how it works.  In the meantime, I'll be blogging here and on the Connecting with Collections blog as my research progresses.  Check back soon for updates!

Sunday, 21 October 2012

How I found King Arthur's Round Table

I've just started a research project focusing on a medieval manuscript, The Equatorie of the Planetis.  This manuscript describes the construction and use of a curious astronomical instrument, and my previous post was about the first stages in my attempt to reconstruct that instrument, in order to better understand the manuscript.

I'm still working on that, and will write all about the fun I had trying to divide a three-foot circle into 360 equal degrees very soon.  Before that, though, here's a tale of intrigue to liven up your weekend...

I'm not the first person to study The Equatorie of the Planetis, or indeed to make a replica of it.  The great historian of science Derek de Solla Price researched it for his (second) PhD in the 1950s, and published an edition of the manuscript, complete with detailed commentaries in which, among other topics, he put forward his argument that the manuscript was by Geoffrey Chaucer, and indeed had been written in Chaucer's own handwriting.  Price was friends with the Nobel Prize-winning physicist Lawrence Bragg, who by the 1950s was running Cambridge University's Cavendish Laboratory, and Bragg arranged for the Cavendish technicians to make a full-size replica of the Equatorie.

I had read that Bragg's gift was "to be hung in a place of honour on the end wall of the big room" of the fabulous Whipple Museum of the History of Science in Cambridge.*  But none of the Whipple's current staff was aware it existed, let alone where it might be now; and the quote above could conceivably have meant that the equatorium was intended to be hung in the Whipple, but never actually made it there.  So I wasn't very confident, but decided I'd have a go at finding out what happened to the mysterious equatorium.  I thought I might at least be able to find some of the paperwork connected with its production at the Cavendish, and maybe some hints about its fate.

I made an appointment to check out the Whipple's archives and, when I met up with the archivists, explained to them what the equatorium was and what the replica might have looked like: a six-foot wooden circle with a similarly-sized brass ring attached.  They looked at each other for a moment, then one said "do you think it might look a bit like this?"  On the computer screen they showed me a museum database record for an unidentified object.  Although I'd obviously never seen the Equatorie, I instantly recognised from the photo that this mystery object must be Price's replica.  The object was described accurately in the database record but the cataloguer, not knowing precisely what it was, had apparently struggled to come up with a title for the record.  So this six-foot wooden circle had been officially named King Arthur's Table!

We went out to the stores and, as carefully as we could given its size, wheeled it out from its resting-place behind a large storage cupboard.  It was dusty and a bit scratched, but unmistakable.

Dining space for about eight guests

I'm now gradually piecing together the story of this remarkable item.  It was made in 1952 and soon afterwards given to the museum, where it hung happily for a few years.  However, as both the museum collection and the Cambridge University Department of History and Philosophy of Science expanded, it seems there was not room to display it, or to store it on the premises.  It was moved to a storage facility for about a decade.  In the 1970s, the Whipple's curator wanted to move some items out of that facility, but, he told me, the stairs were so rickety that no contractor would take the job.  So he did it all himself.  Unfortunately, the Equatorie was too big to fit in his car so it lingered in the same storage facility for another few years!  Finally it was moved into the Whipple's current store in the 1980s.

Hopefully it will soon be back on display in the Whipple Museum.  However, it may have to lose its splendid Arthurian name, which would be a slight pity as it does capture the romance of the Whipple's early years (not to mention my own quest).  I think I know why they called it Camelot now...

(* The quote is from the Whipple's 60th anniversary publication, an excellent collection of essays on a range of subjects associated with the museum.)