RGO summer-student recollections 1956 - 1988

On this page are reproduced, by permission of the authors, recollections of their time at the RGO summer school.

Dave Andrews (1956):

RGO staff used to do country dancing on the lawn on warm summer evenings.

I shall never forget the fire-drill practice out of turret windows too.

Also a special memory for me was when the AR asked during a lecture who was playing a recorder upstairs in the evenings. It was little me!

Woolley asked me to supper in his private rooms and we played Bach all evening. Him on the grand piano. That was better than all the astronomy tuition we received.

Alan Crocker (1956):

I am Alan Godfrey Crocker and there were only six of us while I was there and not 13 as on your list. The only other student whose name I remember is David (Dai) Tonge, partly because we were both from the Maths Department at Imperial and partly because we were both from South Wales, Dai from Merthyr and me from Pontypridd. Five of us had bedrooms on the top floor of the Castle, behind the battlements, but the only girl came in each day from home; I think from Hailsham.

Your list says that I worked on the Meridian project. This involved analysing photographs of the sky taken at midnight with a photographic zenith tube in order to determine accurate values for the average latitude and longitude of Herstmonceux. I, with colleagues, took some of the photos.

The lab I worked in was on the ground floor and on one occasion I arrived from the battlements using the rope and harness fire escape and entered through a window.

Richard Woolley was a keen English Folk Dancer and organised a dance one evening each week on the castle lawn. In the first week we students watched from the battlements and laughed at the performance. However in the second week we went down to the lawn and watched from there. Then in the third week we joined in and enjoyed it and also did for the remaining three or so weeks. This meant that when I went to Sheffield that autumn to do my PhD in theory of materials I joined the University Folk Dance Club and met my wife.

We did of course have lectures on astronomy on many mornings. I don't remember any of these but I probably have notes I took stored away somewhere.

Woolley was also keen on tennis and played mixed doubles with one of the female staff. They entered a tournament at Hailsham but for some reason Woolley had to pull out at a late stage and his partner asked me to deputise for him. I agreed but no-one told the organisers so I was introduced over the loudspeakers as the Astronomer Royal.

During my first term at Sheffield, Woolley came to give a lecture at the University stressing, I recall, the impossibility of space travel. Sputnik was launched shortly afterwards.

Since then my career has been at the University of Surrey, teaching physics and carrying out theoretical and modelling research on defects in materials and I have not been involved in atronomy. However the Department has developed a successful Astrophysics Group in the last few years.

Brian Trustrum (1956):

I am George Brian Trustrum, known usually as Brian.

At the end of our four-week course Sir Richard Woolley (Astronomer Royal) interviewed us and said to me, "I am so glad you came on the course. If you had not you might have got a job at Herstmonceux and we would have had to get rid of you". I had explained to him, that I am not good at the long tedious calculations that were then required of astronomers. Computers have now made a great difference, but I did have a satisfying career lecturing in mathematics at the University of Sussex. My wife and I were founding members of the Mathematics Division there. Till The Royal Observatory moved there was considerable contact between physics at Sussex and the RGO. I am still interested in Astronomy and a member of The Isle of Man Astronomical Society and gave a short talk on the 1956 Summer Course. I told them about an advantage of dirty observatories. During WWII a German bomb moved the RGO Solar telescope. Fortunately due to wartime staff shortages the telescope was dirty and a water leak had left a channel through the dust. It was a simple matter to line up the channel on the base of the telescope with the channel on the floor. I had been told this as a genuine story when on the course.

The staff were very friendly. We enjoyed country dancing on the lawns, and cooking evening meals as a group. Three administrators, including a Mr Cook were co-operative in sharing the kitchden with us. It was very nice living in the splendor of an old castle with modern living conditions and carp in the moat.

Nearby was an old village church, where Viscount Hailsham / Quintiin Hogg was Church Warden. He was not there when I attended evensong. I had the privilege of being at the same table and talking to Tommy Gold at breakfast one day and Carl Sagan another day. They both paid brief visits to the RGO whilst we were there. On a personal level I enjoyed meeting an aunt for the first time. She had retired to Bexhill. I spent an evening teaching her about the application permutations to football pool coupons. She was not a heavy better. One member of staff invited the group of students to his home one evening and one of the secretaries did the same and we had a great game of Monopoly at her house. Altogether it was a thoroughly enjoyable four weeks and I saw the site of the Battle of Hastings.

Names of other students: Miss V.M. Martin was Valerie. She invited the group to her home one evening and it turned out that her father and my father had been dental students together at Liverpool University. Both had retired from practice and were then Dental Officers with the National Health Service (assessing the price of non-straightforward dental work). He was in Eastbourne and my father in the Isle of Man. She and another student started the week before the rest of us. His name was Peter. They did not live in the Castle with us, but he gave her a lift in his car each day. I am fairly sure it was a small pre-war Austin. I did not know his surname but I deduce from your first e-mail that he was Peter Matthews.

The Head of the Solar group was Dr Pete Weyman (I think I have the spelling correct). He was a nice fellow, probably under 30. He lived in Bexhill and gave me a lift the first time I went to see my Aunt there. The routine work of the Solar Group consisted mainly of recording sunspots and flares. Each day they tried to take a photo of the Sun using the Solar Telescope. They nearly always got a photo, although a great deal of patience was often needed in bad weather, as is always the case in observational astronomy. After being developed, the motions of the Sunspots were analysed. I, like most of the members of the Solar Group, had a book. Each spot or group of spots was allocated a page each day. The position on the photograph was recorded on the top of the page together with the time and date. Then following an algorithm a series the results of calculations were recorded on subsequent lines of the page, till at the bottom there appeared the spherical coordinates of the position of the spot or group of spots on the surface of the Sun. In other words, starting with the position on the flat disc of the photograph one calculated the position on the almost spherical surface of the Sun. Unfortunately I understand such records of Sunspots are no longer made.

There was a Charlie Sheffield doing research on the shape of hanging drops at Cambridge in about 1961. I met him in the Engineering Laboratory. I have no idea if he was the Charlie Sheffield on your list or not. There were two separate non-overlapping courses at the RGO in 1956 so I would not have met about half the students on your list. Bernard Pagel joined the staff about the time our course started.

Tony Gordon-Smith (1957):

We had to do country dancing Monday evenings with the girls who operated the Facit adding machines and would play bridge with Richard Woolley at night.

After travels in Africa and working as Asst Prof (Statistics) in Ahma De Bello University Zaria Nigeria went to Oxford Linacre College. Spending my time these days in politics as Mayor and Councillor in Waverley Borough Surrey. Best place to live in England. Am writing, painting in spare time.

George Miley (1961):

I think that I was the youngest in the group - a raw 19 year old just finishing my first year at UCD.

Besides receiving a marvelous introduction to astronomy, we all had great fun at Herstmonceux. Two things stick in my memory. First there was a then healthy and articulate Stephen Hawking replacing the Royal Navy flag on the castle with a hammer and sickle. Then there was the debutantes ball. The Astronomer Royal, Richard Woolley had several friends in British high society and "lent" the castle to one of them for his daughter's "coming out" ball. I am not sure whether this was legal, given that the castle was owned by the British tax payer. However, they couldn't prevent us lower class students from being there. To an Irish socialist it was an eye opener. The party (see some of the photos) must have cost a fortune and I remember that our feeling of inequality prompted us to requisition a case (or maybe several cases) of debutantes champagne which kept us happy for the rest of our stay in the castle.

Another memory: we were allowed to order newspapers to be brought into breakfast every morning. I took great pleasure in having one of the navy people bring the Daily Worker to the refectory on a tray every morning!

Robert Smith (1961, 1962):

One of the good things about the summer school was the opportunity to mix with a range of other students from different universities. Unusually, there was one graduate student with us, Jayant Narlikar, who was one of four of us who worked with Olin Eggen. I don't remember what the others did, but I can remember plotting diagrams of stars in velocity space, looking for Eggen's moving groups - it was really interesting to watch the groups emerge as more stars were added.

One of the four, who worked at the next desk to mine, was the late Michael Friedjung, who suffered from considerable clumsiness, and some naivety. He had the habit of swearing loudly when things weren't going well. At that time, the RGO was reasonably advanced in its 'personal computing' facilities, with the occasional electric Marchant calculating machine being available. Mostly, however, we were reliant on an old hand-operated Brunsviga calculator (anyone else remember these?), and Michael became pretty rapid at using it, so on one occasion someone issued a challenge for Michael to do a certain calculation on the Brunsviga while the other person did the same calculation on the Marchant - it was quite a sight to watch Michael turning the handle at great speed! Sadly, I don't remember who won, although it was probably the Marchant user.

The students were up to the usual pranks (such as flying inappropriate objects from the castle flagstaff), but two particular episodes stick in my mind. One of these involved Stephen Hawking - this was before he had been diagnosed with his terrible disease, so he appeared entirely normal, except that he was clearly exceptionally bright; he was the only one of us who dared to disagree with Woolley on scientific points - and Woolley loved their discussions. We had a student common room, above the then castle dining room, and were allowed a selection of daily papers. Stephen had left-wing sympathies, and asked for the Daily Worker - which we duly got. Some of us decided to use this as an opportunity to play a joke on him. We knew he was going up to the social club (near the west entrance) one evening, so we went up to the battlements and watched until we were sure he was there. We then phoned up the club on the internal phone system, and said that the Security Officer would like to see Mr Hawking, and would he come across to the West Building to meet him. We then scuttled back to the battlements to see if would go. When we saw that he was on his way, we phoned again, and said that the Security Officer had changed his mind, and would Mr Hawking instead go to the Astronomer Royal's office after breakfast the next morning. This message having been duly delivered, we unkindly left him to worry overnight. At breakfast the next morning, he was complaining about this summons to see Woolley, so we explained that it was just a joke. Like Queen Victoria, he was not amused, but I don't think he held it against us.

The other episode involved a fire-hose. The male students all slept in the observers' quarters on the top floor, above the ballroom (of which more below), and there was a fire-hose on a stand in the corridor, 'for emergency use only'. One night, some of the students started larking about with it, unrolling it and playing with it (although not, I think, spraying water - I don't remember the details). They were of course making quite a noise, and unfortunately we were not aware that the door at the end of the corridor led into the Astronomer Royal's private flat! Eventually Woolley emerged in his dressing-gown and everybody shot back into their rooms. Woolley stormed along the corridor, demanding that everyone come out of their rooms, which most people did. However, Michael Friedjung, not realising who was banging on his door and not having had anything to do with the episode, simply shouted "Go to hell!", at which point I think Woolley said who he was. I don't remember the further details of the night, or whether any sanctions were imposed (apart from clearing up the mess) but suffice it to say that there was never any more noise on that top corridor!

Woolley liked students and interacted with them on all possible occasions. He took students observing with him (I remember being with him in 1961 on the 28-inch refractor - now at Greenwich - measuring visual double stars by matching the images for angle and separation with an artificial double star projected into the same field of view) and he always asked Scottish students whether they played golf and, if the answer was yes, he would take them to play at Lewes Golf Club. That is how I got my first view of Lewes, where I now live. We were about evenly matched (in other words, neither of us was very good!), but he generally won. I made sure, however, that I beat him on my 21st birthday in 1962!

Another example, which I only heard about, happened in 1962 (I believe) to one of our number who played the piano. He saw that there was a grand piano in the ballroom, so he went in and played it. What he didn't know was that it was Woolley's own piano, which he kept in the ballroom because there was no room for it in his flat. While he was playing, Woolley came in behind him, having heard the music from his flat and intending (I suppose) to tell him to stop. However, he was impressed by the student's playing, and the only penalty was that he then had to play duets with Woolley!

Finally, no account of that summer school would be complete without mentioning what we called the 'Debs Ball'. This was a big party, held in the Castle (possibly some girl's 21st birthday), and involving dinner jackets and ball gowns, with dancing in the ballroom (it was the time of stiletto heels, and Woolley was later furious at all the marks they had made on his nice ballroom floor). Since the students were resident in the castle, we couldn't have been stopped from gate-crashing, so they bowed to the inevitable and invited us all (a small perturbation on a large event). I have no idea where we got our posh clothes from (hired, I suspect), but I have a photograph [see main page] showing some of us in dinner jackets and posh frocks. We had a great time, and the party went on all night. In the early morning, a few of us (two couples) climbed the hill to the equatorial group to try to see Mercury in the dawn sky (I think we succeeded). As we were coming down again, the party was breaking up and people were going to their cars. When they asked us where we had been (with knowing looks), we told them - but I don't think anyone believed us!

Hilary Pearson (1964):

I have happy memories of that summer at Herstmonceux, particularly playing croquet in the evenings on the lawn behind the castle, and the group scientific observation of the Perseid meteor shower organised by Lionel Wilson.

You may be interested to know that the latter involved eight of us lying facing the main compass points, heads to the centre. Lionel had rigged up a recorder which had a feed from the atomic clock for time. When anyone spotted a meteor they spoke loud enough to be picked up by the recorder, giving estimated length of the trail in degrees and estimated brightness (by that time in August we had all done enough observing to be reasonably good at doing this). Unfortunately, it clouded over in the early hours, but we stuck it out for most of the night. I was fortunate - because I was going on a camping trip immediately after the summer school, I had a sleeping bag with me. I never heard whether Lionel was able to analyse the recording or get any useful data from it.

Another memory is that, for the second half of our stay, Richard Woolley's assistant was away on honeymoon, and he picked me as her temporary replacement. This meant that I got to do calculations on his electronic calculator, the first I had ever seen (it was the size of a cash register). All other calculations were done on hand-cranked calculators or slide rules. My grandchildren refuse to believe there was a time when we didn't have electronic calculators.

I ended up spending most of my career as a lawyer specialising in intellectual property, particularly dealing with the information technology industry. I started as a barrister, spent 10 years practising in the US, since 1990 I have worked as a solicitor in this area, primarily doing patent litigation and IT contracts.

Lionel Wilson (1964):

I recall snippets of that summer at Herstmonceux, all happy memories, though I confess I had forgotten the meteor observing session until I saw Hilary Pearson's recollection (and yes Hilary, the results got processed and sent to the BAA Meteor Section).

One highlight was my interview with the Astronomer Royal, Sir Richard Woolley, who tried to convince me that planetary science was a waste of time. This inspired me to sign up for a PhD on a lunar science topic at the University of London Observatory at Mill Hill after I graduated. I lived through the Apollo era as a graduate student working on the physical structure of the Moon's surface. When we saw lava flows in the lunar maria I got interested in how volcanism would differ between planets as a result of differences in gravity and atmospheric pressure, and this has dominated my career.

After a post-doc at London I joined the then very young Lancaster University as a lecturer in 1970. I made professor at Lancaster in 1988 and stayed there, with visiting professorships at Brown University and the University of Hawai'i providing diversity and ready access to NASA planetary data - and in the latter case, erupting volcanoes. I am now retired, but emeritus at Lancaster and still active; I continue to visit Brown intermittently and spend 2 months of each year at the University of Hawai'i.

Michael Dopita (1967):

Click here for pdf.

Reg Harbour (1967):

We were all having lunch one day in the canteen when a couple of guys from the engineering department came in very excited. They proudly showed us a photograph they had taken the night before of, not surprisingly, a star. Perhaps nobody not even them really understood the significance of the picture although everyone was politely enthusiastic. The picture comprised four quadrants in different shades of grey and therein lies the clue. It was, they said, the first ever digital picture taken in the UK (world?) and was 2 pixels x 2 pixels. If the penny had dropped there and then, any one of us could have been a multi-billionaire by now!


Last revised 9 February 2015

Chris Benn (crb@ing.iac.es)