GENERAL ASTRONOMY ARTICLES
GREEK LETTER DESIGNATIONS
of SOUTHERN STARS
By Andrew James
“The origin of
the constellations surrounding the South Pole is
involved in much obscurity. They have all been attributed to
various Dutch, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian navigators,
but the original records of the observation and formation of
the different constellations appear to be
lost.”
E. B. Knobel (1917)
Source : “On
Frederick de Houtman’s Catalogue of
Southern Stars, and the Origin of the Southern
constellations.”, MNRAS., 78,
5, (1917)
I N T R O D U C T I O N
This now quite severely modified article was
first published in 1998. It was written as an open response to the
Astronomical Society of New South Wales Inc. publiished article
entitled “Stars of the Southern
Cross”; Universe,
45, 7 August (1998) by Greg Bryant. Although his original
article points out the lack of Greek lettered stars in the
constellation of Crux, my only important aim was mainly written to
correct some of the commonly held factual errors and misconceptions
about the many southern constellations and their origin. My attempt
was to supply readers with a bit more detail for those who might
interested in the convoluted evolution of the far southern
constellations. I have decided to add it to my Southern
Astronomical Delights site, as it fits nicely with other
general constellation articles found here.
Updated : 28th October 2015
The ORIGIN of STAR DESIGNATIONS
“For himself [Zeus] it was who
set the signs in heaven, and marked out the
constellations.…”
Aratos Phaenomena 270 B.C.
All initial designations for the stars and
constellations date back into the long lost annals time. When
conceived by humankind, these imagined stellar groupings were from
the random patterns of stars in the Heavens, to represent themselves
or others, the creatures they faced, or of stories reflecting on
their day to day lives. They saw in the sky their hunting
experiences needed for their daily sustenance; the man with his bow
or spear, the creatures that they ate; sheep, bovine or fishes, or
ones to avoid, like lions, bears or serpents. When night had fallen,
they spoke of their daytime adventures, and so the patterns of stars
became their storyboard canvas, to become their personal mythology.
Ultimately this general representation became the worshipped gods
that carefully echoed or revered the expected spiritual world beyond
the grave.
At first, these general constellations names passed through the
many generations. Through storytelling, they foretold and wisely
embellished them for prosperity. From here soon came the common
names of the brightest stars, whose related importance were of the
constellations in which they appeared. Others too were given names
based on apparent positions — as say, a foot or shoulder of
the anatomical feature of some constellation figure they saw. Here
several individual stars came as additional supplements to their
increasingly convoluted stories. Thenceforth, like that of the early
Ancient Greeks or Persians, that we derive most of the familiar
constellations we recognised today.
ASSIGNING GREEK LETTERS to STARS
It was during ancient times when Nicaean-born
Greek astronomer, Hipparchus (fl.
c.146BC–c.127BC), now popularly known the Father of Astronomy,
first introduced the idea of assigning Greek letters in order of the
brightest to faintest naked-eye stars in each of the classical
forty-eight constellations. Later this methodology was also
adopted by Claudius Ptolemy (fl. 2nd AD.) Often some
writers often wrongly attribute this to German Protestant lawyer
Johann Bayer (or Philolaus) (1572-1625). Such a logical
system again appeared within the 1603 original star atlas known
under the shortened title just as Uranometria — from
the more lengthier name “Uranometria : Omnium Asterismorum
Continens Schemata, No a Methodo Delineata, Aereis Laminis
Expressa.” It was first published
by Christophorus in Augsburg, Germany, under the Latinised name
Bayer or Ioannis Bayeri Rhainani I.C..
Such a similar designation system continues today.
Uranometria is probably more famous, as it was the first
detailed star atlas that useful identified all naked-eye stars and
the basic constellation outlines. Like most books of its day, the
original printed images were fully engraved, which was drawn by
Alexander Mair. This elegant atlas has several editions, including a
total of fifty-one detailed maps. Opposing each map is a page
listing all the bright stars. Here appears the Latin and Greek named
stars, and if available, the main Bayer’s designation, stellar magnitude, and what
part its star represents within the constellation — the latter
being very similar to Ptolomy’s
earlier star catalogue. All southern stars appear on Map 49 at the
book’s rear, with an additional
twelve new southern constellations. (See Figure 1)
Fig. 1. SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS in
BAYER’s 1661 URANOMETRIA
This figure is by Bayer showing the main far
southern constellations as of 1661, though Bayer had first employed
these in 1603. These far southern constellations were likely
originally taken earlier from Petrus Plancius. Most of these are odd
collections, representing birds and aquatic reptiles or fish.
Starting on the left hand side from the fabulous Phoenix,
finds the constellations above Grus (The Crane), the
Indus (The Indian) and then Pavo (The Peacock). Below
Phoenix and Grus, and halfway to the South Celestial Pole is
Tucana (The Toucan) and below it Hydrus (The Water
Snake). On the opposing page is Apus, drawn here as the Bird
of Paradise, though it is now recognised as a bee. [Not listed as a
Bayer constellation, is Triangulum Australe, which prior to this was
considered a part of Norma as geometric drawing tools of the
triangle, square and rule, plus later, the Circinus the Compasses.
Norma here extended up to the eastward region from Antares.] Below
Apus is Chameleon, and below it, Volans (the Flying
Fish), and at the middle bottom, Dorado (The Goldfish), which
is sometime referred as Xiphias (Swordfish) I.e. Uranometria
by Johann Elert Bode in 1801. Above it is the Large Magellanic Cloud
(LMC), and the Small Magellanic Cloud (SMC) under Hydrus, which is
arguably given as separate constellations. Note also the bright
stars of Achernar, Miaplacidus and Alpha Centauri are drawn, though
the bright star Acrux and other Crux stars are obviously missing.
Also the band of the Milky Way shows not resemblence how it really
appears. Significantly he also does not show the Coal Sack at
all.
This figure also shows the circle of the south polar cap extending
out by 23½° (Declination −66½°), with
the second circle being the the south elliptal pole. Four meridan
lines show the directions of 0h, 6h, 12h and 18 hours and its
equivalent in ecliptical longitude. (A more general discussion on
the southern constellations see Part 1 : The
Origin of the Constellations)
This is followed by Maps 50 and 51, which show the whole northern
and southern hemisphere caps. Most famous for all Antipodean
observers is probably the stylistic engraved image of the entire
constellation of Argo Navis — the fabled ancient story
of the Greek ship of Jason and the Argonauts. His same drawn
ship is aptly given by the Greek Aratos of Soli (fl. c.315 BC
– c.245 BC), who says in the renown historical poem
Phaenomena dating back to 270 B.C.;
“Beside the tail of
the Great Dog the ship Argo is hauled stern-foremost. For not hers
is the proper course of a ship in motion, but she is borne
backwards, reversed even as real ships, when alread the sailors turn
the stern to the land as the enter the haven, and every one
back-paddles the ship, but she rushing sternward lays hold of the
shore. Even so is the Argo of Jason borne along stern-foremost.
Partly in mist is she borne along, and starless from her prow even
to her mast, but the hull is wholly wreathed in light. Loosed is her
Rudder and is set beneath the hind feet of the Dog, as he runs in
front.”
Fig. 2. ARGO NAVIS in BAYER’s
URANOMETRIA
This is an example of Bayer’s southern map of the mega-constellation of
Argo Navis. Note that the northern part of the map, including all
the 1st and 2nd magnitude stars have Greek letters assigned, but
those further south are simply designated ‘d’, etc.
Looking at the False Cross, the stars are clear distorted when
compared to how they appear in the sky today. Canopus / α Argus (now α Carina) has been placed at the stern on
the waterline that guides the rudder of the fabled ship. A rock
piecing out of the water conveniently hide the bow from view, which
I assume might be the island occupied by the Sirens that lies
according to Homer between Aeaea and the rock of
Scylla in Aegean Sea. On the other side of the rock
(left) is Centaurus and the Cross, marking a quite different
“chapter” of the Greek stories from the Ancient
world.
A few of Bayer’s original charts
still exist. Most of the information about these charts are taken
from the revised edition of Uranometria published later in 1732
— a copy of which exists in the Royal Astronomical Society
(R.A.S.) Library in London. These latter charts are reproductions of
the originals, with little modifications or changes, and I did once
inspect a set of these in England in October 1996 at an exhibition
at the British Library. Both appeared more like works of art
than historical astronomical documents.
Yet there are some questions about the origin of Bayer’s designations. For example, according to
the author and astronomical popularist Richard Allen, in his book
“Star Names: Their Lore and
Meaning.” (1899), has first
challenged this by saying Piccolomini of Siena adopted this
same procedure some fifty years earlier. In fact, this just
highlights the perpetuated misconception still frequents many
familiar astronomical books.
So, although Bayer or Piccolomini did apply these letters to
those to those constellations north of about −50°
declination, they never assigned them Greek letters to the ‘newer’ ones
in the far south. Bayer, when he did, had really adopted only the
designs from several engravings made by Albrecht Dürer
(1471-1528) in 1515.
Modern writers often place Bayer on a high pedestal, venerating
him as some significant influential force in the development of
astronomy. Unfortunately, his eventual known reputation is a little
shadier. Again, Richard Allen says of Bayer that he was; “…a poor and inexact
cartographer”; and that; “…a work much tinctured with the
occult science.”
We are often told that the modern constellations were passed down
from ancient times, however, no direct evidence of their entire
shapes or component stars truly exists today. Bayer’s important contribution was simply to
attempt to reapply ancient lore with the visible night sky. In
regards the shaping of the constellations and the designing the
newer southern ones, Bayer never created nor observed them —
all he did was exclusively apply his imagination to the assumed
names. The southern skies were different, as his knowledge was
either entirely second or third hand.
Conversely, Bayer had no problems with the northern stars. All he
had to do was literally walk out the backdoor and look up. Southern
positional observations and descriptions used in the original
Uranometria were exclusively made by the Dutch southern explorer
Pieter Dirckz Keyser (Pieter Theodori) (?-1596). Another
prominent misconception example of was Bayer’s alleged discovery of the brightest
globular star cluster ω Centauri.
However, the true designation of this ‘hazy star’
should be Keyser and not Bayer. Simply as Bayer never
labelled the object as Omega!
GREEK LETTER DESIGNATIONS in CRUX
Although the figures are magnificent and are skilfully drawn, the
stellar positions are far from perfect. An example is the area of
Crux and Centaurus. In the 15th Century, Crux was a
sub-constellation of Centaurus —existing only as a mere
asterism. The image portrayed is of the centaur Chiron (or Chyron)
viciously spearing Lupus the Wolf. At the rear of the hind legs is
the crucifix image of the asterism known as ‘Thonis Caesaris’ (or Thronos Caesaris), named by the
ancient historian Pliny the Elder (or Gaius Plinius Secundus
Pliny) (23AD-79AD) in honour of the Roman emperor Augustus. [Book 2
: “Natural History”] Crux then was visible on the southern
horizon from Rome during April and May, though due to the precession
of the equinoxes it is not visible there today. Ptolemy could easily
see both these southern constellations, so he just placed Crux into
Centaurus. (These three images are from Bayer’s 1732 edition of Uranometria, and can
searched for on the Net.)
Oddly, the early Christian church remarkably never adopted Crux
as their representative symbol of the worldly death of Christ. From
the 13th Century, seafaring explorers south the equator held some
romanticism with Crux — deifying these stars by reinforcing
their Christian faith against the fear of the unknown. Bayer
formulated the labelling of the principle stars of Crux (as listed
originally in Bayer’s own associated
catalogue.)
Old Crux Designations |
α Cru [alpha]=
ζ Cen [zeta] |
β Cru [beta]=
ξ Cen [xi] |
γ Cru [gamma]=
ε Cen [epsilon] |
δ Cru [delta] =
υ Cen [upsilon] |
Errors also appearing in the drawn caricatures are appallingly
inaccurate. In all, these strategically placed stars do not to match
the constellation outline, but to fulfil the caricature for example,
α [alpha] Centauri is placed high
above the Cross, while β [beta]
Centauri is on the opposite side of the cross near the current
position of δ [delta] Centauri. The
star ε [epsilon], however, is not
drawn in the chart. As for the other new constellations of the
south, Bayer added no useful lettering system. It was Jakob
Bartsch (Bartschius) who published these in the “Planispaerium Stellatum” — made in 1624 during the final year
of Johann Bayer. However, all had exactly the same stars seen in
Centaurus and Crux in the original Uranometria Bayer
chart.
In 1679, Augustin Royer is said to have named Crux as a
seperate constellation. Others have suggested it was Englishman
Emeric Mollineux in 1592, though Allen says he suspects that
it origin was two hundred years before this. Royer then re-labelled
the first six stars in Crux from the old Centaurus letters from;
α [alpha] through ζ [zeta].
GREEK LETTER and OTHER DESIGNATIONS
in SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS
Modern Greek designations for southern constellations were again
applied during the years by the French “Southern Columbus” Nicolas Louis de Lacaillé
(1713-1762) after he had done his main astrometry in South
Africa. In 1752 and 1753 he used a new method by using the Greek
letters, and when the ran out, he just added Roman letters. Here the
many large Milky Way constellations of the southern hemisphere now
start an additional method applying also upper and lower case Roman
letters. I.e. A to Q & a to z, but not the letters R to Z
— because they were to be reserved exclusively for variable
stars. He firstly applied this to the mega-constellation of Argo
Navis, labelling some 180 stars, and following this same system with
the constellations like Centaurus and Lupus.
According to the American Benjamin Apthorp Gould
(1824-1896), a grand 829 stars were visible to the naked-eye within
Argo Navis, thus making up 11% of all viewable stars to the
naked-eye. Lacaillé’s adopted
system was to stay in limbo for many years. Only a few of this
numbering system remains, like the second brightest globular in the
sky known as 47 Tucanae (NGC 104), who Lacaillé’ catalogue lists as a ‘star’. This
was again succeeded with the adoption of another naming system
produced by the “British
Association Catalogue” (B.A.C.) in
1845.
In 1729, John Flamsteed’s
(1646-1719) usage first superseded the exclusive use of just Greek
letters. He sensibly labelled all naked-eye stars that were visible
from Greenwich, England by ordering them by an increasing number for
each constellation. This appeared in his first star atlas, which was
published after his death, along with another newer and slightly
modified division of the brighter stars by Greek letters. As he
could not see many southern constellations, this numbered system
suddenly halts around declinations south of −30°.
No doubt, Centaurus is the classic example of the division
between northern and southern hemisphere stars. In the north, the
constellation is 1,2,3,4 and 5 Centauri while in nearby
constellation of Lupus, has only 1 and 2 Lupi. Yet below declination
−33°, Roman letters are then exclusively applied. I.e.
x Centauri and y Centauri — each positioned at
the lower declination of −34°.
Overall, the many inherent problems with this random naming
process is that the astronomers could never get some internationally
agreed system applying to the constellations universally accepted.
This made any subsequent classifications or ideas appear very
arbitrary. “Miss Clerke” in “The
Herschels and Modern Astronomy”
properly and aptly describes it as being ; “…a system of derangement and
confusion.” They did not achieve
ratification of the eighty-eight constellations until 1930,
when the International Astronomical Union finally agreed on them.
This convoluted mess in labelling of Greek letters (and Roman
letters) for southern stars was added literally ad-hoc between 1680
and the late-1800s.
Only certain constellations have Greek lettered stars below 5th
magnitude, while others even above 3rd are sometimes ignored. It is
likely that they make the labelling systems simply to define the
outline of the constellation and were never properly or logically
organised based on stellar magnitudes. South of declination
−55°, the number of Greek letters does not correlate with
magnitude but the area of each individual constellation. For
example, the similar sized northern constellation of Sagitta has the
same problems as Greg suggests for Crux. Here its lowest Greek
letter is Zeta (ζ), although Epsilon
(ε) is at the lowly magnitude of
5.6v — and 10 and 13 Sagittae are both brighter! If some
global application of standardised letters were placed on Sagitta,
‘Omega’
Sagitta would be below naked-eye visibility!
Central to the real problem here is it is systemic of the days
when romantic astronomy bore some general interest to the
public. Greg’s own use of the latest
Hipparcos Catalogue data among the gist of the written text —
just highlights the difference in our current perceptions of what
astronomy is about. As a general criticism, we cannot really apply
the notions of modern astronomy to the antiquated notions from the
days of early observational astronomy. They are separate. (I too am
equally guilty of this point, as this also appears in my other
related article in UNIVERSE — See “Gacrux and the
Naming of Southern Stars”)
In my own opinion, as a visual observer and part-time
astrognosist (meaning essentially non-telescopic
observer), these ‘niceties’ are important — though they do not
pertain at all to the modern astrophysical views of our
current technologically savvy astronomy.
Changes to constellation names and designations are not new. Sir
John Herschel and Francis Baily in 1841 suggested a reformation in
the naming and assignment of Greek letters to the Royal Astronomical
Society. It did not work. As Richard Allen rightly says; “.…their changes were too sweeping
and were not successful…”
Today creating such ‘neo-formal
Greek designations’ would likely more
trouble than it is worth. The I.A.U. has open views on this subject,
and amateurs could collectively approach the I.A.U. Commission 5
‘Task Group on Astronomical
Designations’, though your chances
of success are pretty slim at best. Commission meetings are mostly
scheduled every three years, next likely being 2017.
The I.A.U. would likely disagree with us. This is stated in
Fernandez, Lortet and Spite in “The
First Dictionary of the Nomenclature of Celestial Objects”, A&A., 52, 4, June
(1983) (Section 5; Heading Number 2), as; “Nomenclature based on constellation
name: a (very) confusing practice.”
However, if there is some general agreement approaching the
problem sensibly among most astronomers — amateur and
professional alike, it might just be possible.
A MODERN NUMERICAL SOUTHERN STAR CATALOGUE?
My own radical approach might be to introduce some Southern
Flamsteed Catalogue (SFC), made along the lines of Benjamin
Gould’s Uranometria Argentina
at Epoch 1875.0, but with a better and higher magnitude limit. Here
among individual southern
constellations, each star is numbered based in order of increasing
Right Ascension, with limiting magnitude down to 5.8v — the
same as the original visual magnitude limit given by Flamsteed and
further south by Elert Bode. Numbers already used in constellations
south of −30° declination, could then be reassigned a new
SFC number, and introducing these systems would apply to about 1,800
stars. Largest number would be about 230 in the constellation of
Centaurus. One minor problem is the 1725 epoch used by Flamsteed,
which has meant that the proper motions have begun to mix up these
numbers. For example, 20,21,22,23 Herculis has been now reordered in
Right Ascension as 22,20,23,21 Herculis. Were such an index was
applied to the southern stars, should it be the 1725 epoch or 2000
epoch?
Furthermore, overall consequences would definitely affect the
modern celestial cartographers, as all atlases and most astronomical
software would need updating. If we truly adopted such a system,
Epoch 2050.0 star atlases could possibly adopt such changes. Do
amateurs need such identification? I leave that to you.
As final sentence in Dante’s
‘Inferno’ aptly states;
“Thence we came forth to
rebehold the stars”
I’ll say no more.
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