Asteroid Belgica and the First World War

Sometimes when I'm searching for supernovae, my telescope-pointing software reveals an asteroid in the area of my target galaxy. If it's a brighter asteroid, and if there is something appealing about the naming of the asteroid, I'll take a detour from my primary interest and grab some images of the asteroid. Other times, I might come across in my reading a reference to an asteroid that was named after a famous person or place, which makes me want to seek out and get an image of the asteroid to add to my collection. This requires that I do a little homework to determine the best viewing window of the asteroid, which often requires waiting up to a year or more. I typically mark these on my kitchen calendar, so that I'll have a reminder. My image above, of asteroid (1052) Belgica, falls under the category of the latter.

As discussed in my post about Terence Dickinson last year, there are thousands of famous persons who have been honored by naming minor planets after them, but what's the point of such an honor if nobody (including the honoree) ever gets a glimpse of their tiny world? Is just knowing that it's out there somewhere good enough? Not for me! I have the equipment to track them down, so I feel somewhat of an obligation to do so. An asteroid named for Terence Dickinson? Yes. And I, for one, went out and took a picture of it. I never met Terence Dickinson, but I took a picture of his minor planet as it passed over my back yard.

But asteroid (1052) Belgica is a horse of a different color. It isn't named for a famous person, nor does its name have any broad meaning to the field of astronomy. As a matter of fact, its name doesn't even hold any personal meaning to me. What caught my attention was the citation (the discoverer's reason for giving it its name). Belgica's might be the lengthiest citation ever given for an asteroid name! Well, one of the lengthiest, anyway.

The short answer is that astronomer Eugène Joseph Delporte discovered asteroid Belgica almost 100 years ago, on the night of November 15, 1925. He spotted it from the Royal Belgium Observatory in Uccle, and it was the first asteroid discovered from Belgium. So, he named it Belgica, after his home country, and he used the form of its name that conformed to the standard practice of the day, which was to give asteroids female names. Does that mean you couldn't name an asteroid after a man? No! You could simply add an "a" or "ia" to the end of the name, and it becomes female. This was accepted in the case of (1034) Mozartia and many others.

However, Delporte wasn't the first to attempt naming an asteroid "Belgica." That's where the citation story got interesting (and lengthy).

A few years earlier, probably around 1916, American astronomer and minor planet discoverer Rev. Joel Metcalf (1866-1925) was asked by the famous Henry Norris Russell, of Princeton, if he had an unnamed asteroid discovery of which he was willing to relinquish the naming rights. Russell wanted to sell an asteroid name to the highest bidder as a donation for an Allied Bazaar, which were fund-raising events to support the war effort, prior to the United States' entry into World War I.

Metcalf sent Russell the details of four of his unnamed asteroids, and Russell returned four name suggestions. The Center for Minor Planets (the asteroid naming authority) was unfortunately located in Germany in those years. Metcalf would have to submit the names to Professor Fritz Cohn of the Rechen-Institut in Berlin. According to Metcalf, "The people paid the price (about $50) and sent me through Prof. Russell the names. One of them was Belgica. I saw the possibility of trouble but I sent it along as I had agreed to. Prof. Cohn of the Rechen-Institut sent backward that it was 'impossible' at that moment anyway. I think myself it was poor taste. Of course he blamed me. I never took the trouble to tell him how it happened. The other names were very long queer ones that they objected also. In fact, the only successful part of it was that we obtained some money for the Allied Bazaar. I am afraid Belgium was a pretty sore spot with them about the time I wrote the letter..." (from Dictionary of Minor Planet Names, Sixth Edition, Volume 2, by Lutz D. Schmadel, 2012)

Besides performing his pastoral duties in the church and carrying out the search for asteroids and comets in his private observatory, Metcalf was an exceptional optician, making the lenses used in his telescopes. But when America became involved in the Great War, Metcalf abandoned these careers to serve, apparently as a form of chaplain, alongside soldiers in the front lines of the conflict. More than a clergyman and a scientist, Metcalf was a true patriot and humanitarian. 

So, although my post is illustrated at the top of this page with an animation of (1052) Belgica, and with all due respect toward Belgium's courageous and heartbreaking role in World War I, my great interest in capturing a picture of this asteroid is dedicated to the memory of the life and work of Rev. Joel Hastings Metcalf, who passed away several months before (1052) Belgica was discovered.

"Shall the rose bloom anew, and shall man perish?
Shall goodness sleep in the ground, and the light
of wisdom be quenched in the dust? Their winter too
shall pass away; they also shall live and bloom again.
Beauty shall spring up out of ashes, and life out of death."


Easter Greeting.
Words by Mr. Metcalf 
(From his biography in Popular Astronomy, Vol. 33, p. 495, Courtesy Maria Mitchell Observatory)


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