Abstract

Frances Willmoth is author of an authoritative biography of Jonas Moore, the Surveyor-General of the Ordnance, who helped found the Royal Observatory in Greenwich and has edited the correspondence of, and an important volume on, the first Astronomer Royal, John Flamsteed. Both of these men appear as characters in this children’s book, which tells the story of the Observatory’s foundation. The action takes place between spring 1675, with a visit to Greenwich Hill by Flamsteed, Moore, and Christopher Wren, and autumn 1676, when the Observatory has been completed and inaugurated. In order to introduce the topic gently, Willmoth takes some mice as her chief protagonists. Inquisitive but uninformed, concerned as they are that their peaceful life in Greenwich Park will be disrupted by human activity, they are the means by which people, places, events, and astronomy can be presented.
Not surprisingly, the laying of the foundation stone on 10 August 1675, as recorded in a horoscope cast by Flamsteed, does not feature the book. However, a great deal else that we know about these crucial 18 months does. Willmoth is, as stated in an endorsement by the current Astronomer Royal, an expert on the subject. Her knowledge of the buildings, and those most closely involved with the Observatory, is impeccable. In general, she wears her learning suitably lightly. The fictional conversation draws on details known from Flamsteed’s correspondence and other documents but, rightly, is not presented in seventeenth-century style, beyond some quaint phrases that serve to remind us that these are past events. Thus, Wren’s later comment that the Observatory building was “for the observer’s habitation and a little for pompe” becomes a spoken promise that it “will be big enough to look dignified and for the astronomer to live in” (p. 3), although the original is also subsequently cited.
At times, Willmoth is more interested in sharing a historical nugget than telling a story. I am not sure it would make sense to the listening mice, or matter to reading children, to be told that Halley (as in Edmond) was pronounced Hawley “in those days” (p. 23). Those who do not know that Willem van de Velde established a studio and painted maritime scenes in Queen’s House in the 1670s might be unsure why linseed oil and canvasses are briefly mentioned, when the artists do not subsequently appear as characters. Meanwhile, instruments and technical terms are introduced in a way that might prompt a motivated and curious child to find out more but is not in itself sufficient.
The mice are, nevertheless, a nice conceit for telling a history of the Royal Observatory. Some may recall a later worker there, Thomas Evans, bemoaning the loneliness of the astronomical assistant, “excluded from all society, except, perhaps, that of a poor mouse.” 1 These mice would clearly have made good companions had the astronomers and assistants noticed them. They see Flamsteed as nearly one of them since he is “quite often awake and busy at night, almost like an outsize mouse” (p. 20) and are keen to become part of their home’s changing role. Our guides are, fortunately, even quicker on the uptake than the rats and mice of National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), especially Christopher, the nest-planner, and Celestine, soon elected their Astronomouse Royal.
The illustrations are a mix of line drawings, including rather sweet depictions of the mice, and images based on contemporary prints and portraits. Particularly significant are the Francis Place engravings that depict the new observatory, its situation, and instruments. It is nice that the story of the engravings’ production features in the text, and we meet the Ordnance Office artist, Robert Thacker, who made the drawings on which they were based. Thacker, apparently, failed to spot the mice, but they are “reinstated” in some scenes. It would have been helpful to have made use of Place’s plan of the buildings, and a larger map would make better sense of the relationship between the park, observatory, Queen’s House, and Greenwich Palace and be fun for those who know, or want to get to know, the area today.
The blurb tells us that the book is “For children who are confident readers and anyone else who prefers history books not to be too solemn.” It works charmingly for those who are familiar with the history and site but might sometimes puzzle those who are new to the topic. I can imagine the book selling in the shop of the Royal Observatory, whether to visitors or Greenwich locals, but fear it might be lost among other children’s books with higher production values but considerably less historical worth.
