So that's what Nick did. But his death and Galileo's trial are ninety years apart, and in the interim astronomy kept changing. Let's now go over the response to Copernicus, and the foundation for a new astronomy. This part is the most non-linear of all, since there's a lot of stuff going on.
Part V: acceptance, rejection, and the lord with a metal noseAs I mentioned, back in Prussia the Teutonic Grand Master Albert (of the accursed house of Hohenzollern) had become an apostate, and based on Luther's advice he converted the Monastic State into the Duchy of Prussia. Among the many things this zealot did, like fighting peasants and Poles, he... funded astronomy. He commissioned Erasmus Reinhold, famous professor of higher mathematics, colleague of Rheticus, and avid reader of Copernicus (referring to him as "the most learned man whom we may call a second Atlas or a second Ptolemy"), to compile a new set of tables to rival the Alfonsine ones. Reinhold wasn't a heliocentrist, and he criticized Copernicus' tables in that "the computation is not even in agreement with his observations on which the foundation of the work rests" given that the measurements of this lone hobbyist were indeed often inaccurate, but his praise and repeated mentions helped spread the man's name and theories even more than they already had. Reinhold helps us illustrate what astronomers of the time saw as valuable in Copernicus, in the form of one of his annotations from his copy of De Revolutionibus:
>The axiom of astronomy: celestial motion is uniform and circular, or composed of uniform and circular motions.He, like the vast majority of astronomers, still cared far more about perfect motions and clean mathematics than the physical reality of heliocentrism and a moving Earth, which was incongruent with physics and scripture. The Prutenic Tables were published in 1551, a product of Reinhold's negotiation between Ptolemy, Copernicus, and other modern sets of observations that Nick never consulted, and although the final product was not much of an improvement it nonetheless secured a place for the teaching of Copernicus in universities, though the idea of his model being factual continued to be overwhelmingly denounced as utterly absurd. Having become rector of the University of Wittenberg, Reinhold died of the plague at 41 years of age, in 1553. As mentioned in the previous post, the "Wittenberg interpretation" of this very university was upheld by its mathematicians, who were some of the chief supporters of Copernicus and his advancements in stellar measurements, though strictly as a formal instrument and not as model of physical reality. I want to add that the man who invented the equal sign, Robert Recorde (lmao), briefly mentioned the Copernican model as well in his 1566 astronomical text,
The Castle of Knowledge:
>This is truly to be gathered: howbeit, Copernicus a man of great learning, of much experience, and of wonderful diligence in observation, hath renewed the opinion of Aristarchus Sainius, and affinnith that the earth not only moveth circularly about his own center, but also may be, yea and is, continually out of the precise center of the world 38 hundred thousand miles: but because the understanding of that controversy dependeth upon profounder knowledge than in this Introduction may be uttered conveniently, I will let it pass till some other time.As was common at the time, the text is structured as a dialogue between two characters, of which the "master" once again rejects Copernicanism as absurd, but the scholar explaining astronomy brushes him off as uninitiated. We also can see Aristarchus in this example, and we can be sure that people now knew of his heliocentrism throught Archimedes because
The Sand-Reckoner had by this point been translated, which I believe may've offered some further aid to Copernicanism among those dedicated to mathematics.
Meanwhile, rewinding back a few years to 1546, the first serious criticism of Copernicanism had been composed, by the Dominican priest Giovanni Maria Tolosani. This man had been involved in the Fifth Lateran Council (1512-1517), where (among many other things) the pope invited experts to look for a way to improve the calendar that had throughout the centuries strayed and become misaligned with Easter. Figuring out the correct time of Easter was a big deal to Christendom in the same way aligning oneself properly with Mecca is important to Muslims, and had been dealt with at length for over a thousand years, like in the Venerable Bede's
The Reckoning of Time back in the 8th century. Tolosani was fairly involved with the Council, and encountered Copernicus' letters giving his own crack at the problem. Not only that, De Revolutionibus had been dedicated and sent to Pope Paul III, and the Dominican was assigned the task of condemning it. (You may wonder why, given that the previous pope had been positive to it, and the simple answer is that papal politics just come and go like that.) What's interesting is the dual character of Tolosani's critique, which attacks Copernicus based on both the scientific consensus of the day and the fact that it goes against scripture. For example, he writes in an appendix from 1546 to his unsubtly-titled 1544 text
On the Very Pure Truth of Divine Scripture, against Human Errors:
>Summon men educated in all the sciences, and let them read Copernicus, Book I, on the moving earth and the motionless starry heaven. Surely they will find that his arguments have no solidity and can be very easily refuted. For it is stupid to contradict a belief accepted by everyone over a very long time for extremely strong reasons, unless the naysayer uses more powerful and incontrovertible proofs, and completely rebuts the opposed reasoning. Copernicus does not do this at all. For he does not undermine the proofs, establishing necessary conclusions, advanced by Aristotle the philosopher and Ptolemy the astronomer.>Then let experts read Aristotle, On the Heavens, Book II, and the commentaries of those who have written about it ... and they will find that Aristotle absolutely destroyed the arguments of the Pythagoreans.>Moreover Copernicus assumes certain hypotheses which he does not prove...when he says in Book I, Chapter 8: “If anyone believes that the earth rotates, surely he will hold that its motion is natural, not violent”? Copernicus assumes what he should previously have proved, namely, that the earth rotates.This is true, Copernicus was indeed lacking evidence and this troubled him greatly. But that's not all:
>For by a foolish effort it tries to revive the contrived Pythagorean belief, long since deservedly buried, since it explicitly contradicts human reason and opposed Holy Writ. Pythagoreanism could easily give rise to quarrels between Catholic expounders of Holy Writ and those persons who might wish to adhere with stubborn mind to this false belief. I have written this little work for the purpose of avoiding this scandal.Note the dual argument, reason AND scripture. And in another passage, he argues that Copernicus runs "the risk to himself and to the readers of his book of straying from the faith." That is to say, Tolosani's goal is to secure stability and legitimacy for the traditional Thomist-Aristotelian framework. This would be challenged later by an Augustinian hermit, Diego de Zuñiga, in his 1584/1591
Commentary on Job, specifically Job 9:6
here:
>This passage seems to be a difficult one indeed, but it is considerably clarified by means of the opinion of the Pythagoreans, who think that the earth moves by its own nature and that it is not otherwise possible to explain the motions of the stars which vary a great deal in their speed and slowness.>There is no doubt that the locations of the planets are much better and more certainly determined by this doctrine than by what is found in Ptolemy's Almagest and in the views of others. It is well known that Ptolemy was never able to explain the motion of the equinoxes or to establish an exact and fixed beginning of the year. He confesses this in his Almagest III, 2, and leaves these matters for the discovery of later astronomers who would be able to compare more observations over a longer period of time than he could.However, Zuñiga would later turn to oppose the theory on Aristotelian grounds, in his 1597
Philosophiae Prima Pars. What's important, though, is that we can see a relevant example of a man who is tolerant of the Bible being open to interpretation in light of future evidence, versus a man who wants to secure stability in tradition, both inside of the Church, though neither being an official position yet, only individual opinions. It's even more important to note that Tolosani's book wasn't even published, and remained a manuscript that only some people read internally and which was rediscovered relatively recently. Despite this, it aptly represents popular thought of that time, as is very relevant in reference to Galileo later.
Not only did Copernicus fail at proposing a mechanism for the Earth's motion while violating Aristotelian physics, he had also failed at addressing the two ancient problems of "why do things stay put on Earth" and "why do we not see parallax." These were valid scientific concerns: if you can't explain the mechanism that is the basis of your model, if it contradicts standard practice, if reality doesn't demonstrate the consequences we would expect from it, and if your predictions aren't even better than those we've always used, then of course hardly anyone is going to take it as much more than a neat idea. At this point, it was still possible to take Ptolemy's model and slightly recalibrate it so as to make it fit more recent observations, as was done by Caspar Peucer (student of Rheticus and Reinhold, son-in-law of Melanchthon, teacher of Tycho Brahe) in his 1568-1571 book
Hypotyposes Orbium Coelestium, where he repudiates the Copernican model and its "offensive absurdity so alien to truth." Another person who would do the same was Giovanni Antonio Magini in the similarly-titled
Novae Coelestium Orbium Theoricae, later in 1589. As I said before, the two models were mathematically equivalent, geocentrism was still perfectly able to get the job done.
Parallax specifically was a very salient issue, because it was regularly used to triangulate the distances between the planets, as Aristarchus had done before, but this broke down when looking at the stars: there no was no observable parallax, and therefore no chance of using it for such an end. Heliocentrist math implied that the stars were unfathomably far away and that they had unthinkably large sizes, easily dwarfing the Sun. The idea that the universe was perfectly geometric and beautiful was truly hegemonic back then, and it made everyone ask: why would God create such an absurd, irrational world? And EVEN IF those ridiculous estimations were true, you still couldn't see any parallax at all, you couldn't prove it. Lemme ask you, what's more reasonable: the idea that the Earth doesn't move, as everyone with common sense can tell and corroborated by physics and scripture, or that the universe is a gigantic void full of humongous stars haphazardly strewn together, yet nonetheless showing no discernible effect? When this criticism was raised against Copernicans they argued that God had made such works to impress us and remind us of His greatness. It wasn't terribly convincing. So Copernican astronomers, the ten or so that existed, were quite concerned with finding any evidence that could support their theory. It was a big deal.
Thaddeus Hagecius (Czech herbalist, astrologer, and personal doc of Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf II) was one of those handful of early Copernicans searching for it across the 1560s, alongside his Danish geocentrist friend Tycho Brahe. In November of 1572 the two would encounter something incredible: a bright spot suddenly appeared in the nightsky, a new star, and it remained visible for two years until 1574, a period during which several astronomers would independently observe it and take notes of this crazy new thing. Both would write on it, although it was Tycho's 1573
De Nova Stella that took the cake as the most popular. His measurements decidedly showed that this "nova" presented a total absence of parallax, just like any other star, which allowed the entity to be correctly categorized as belonging to that outer realm beyond comets and the planets. They hadn't found any evidence for Copernicanism, but they did deal a massive blow to the Aristotelian worldview by proving that it was possible for the outer heavens to experience change, a fact that was from then on increasingly accepted by astronomers. Remember, aether was supposed to be perfect and unchanging, but here was a very blatant form of change available for all to see.
Tycho, who is in reality the protagonist of this section, was a particularly high-tier Danish noble, a big shot of large caliber, but he wasn't interested in being a regular lord. His wish was to be a lord of science. At the age of 14, in 1560, he had been both impressed and bothered by the prediction of a solar eclipse that ended up being off by a day, an experience that would drive him to make astronomy as accurate as possible.
He also lost his nose in 1566, over a debate I'm unsure of. One source said his origin story consisted of predicting Suleiman's death in October of that year, only to be mocked, as the sultan had already died a month ago, in September. But many others say it's because of him getting drunk at a party and arguing with a cousin about who was the better mathematician. Either way, he challenged his foe to a duel in order to protect his honor, only to have his own nose sliced off by the better duelist. From then onwards he would wear a prosthetic nose, possibly switching between multiple of them, some made of brass, others of gold and silver.
Tycho's superpower was the precision he strove for, his perfectionism: the accuracy and superiority of his measurements would cement him as one of the most important astronomers of all time. This was made obvious through his observations of the nova, and the fame his text brought him, with which he was able to strike a deal with the Danish crown: they'd grant him dominion over the small island of Hven where he would be able to set up an observatory. And so he did, building Uraniborg, a palace and temple to astronomy, with towers, workshops, salaried artisans, a paper mill, an in-house printing press, an alchemical lab, plenty of fancy art, a dungeon to throw rebellious peasants in, a drunken pet moose, and a psychic dwarf to entertain guests during the feasts they'd be invited to. The Castle of the Heavens served as a place for the Danish crown to show off its soft power, and it's commonly said to have costed 1% of Denmark's GDP, which is about as much as what the USA spent on NASA at its peak. The many instruments Tycho built with his ridiculous budget certainly matches this comparison. (You can see some of them
here.) Despite being in his 30s by this point, he managed to take measurements that reached the limit of what was possible with the naked eye, or yielded even better results after averaging out the numbers. His were by far the most accurate measurements ever taken by one guy looking at the sky real hard. It blew everything else out of the water, and Tycho knew it.
In 1577 he'd gain the perfect chance to capitalize on his resources. This time a comet appeared, and a new opportunity to take crucial measurements of it.
Aristotle had argued that comets had to originate in the sublunar realm, appearing in the uppermost layer of the atmosphere, which was made up of fire rather than air. (Meteors also had to be sublunar phenomena, they couldn't be from aetheric outer space, that's why the study of climate is called meteorology.) Believe it or not, this wasn't an unfounded belief, and the dynamic duo of Peuerbach and Regiomontanus had calculated the parallax of comets over a century ago in 1456 and 1472 with results that matched Aristotle's given location. But Aristotle also argued that comets weren't solid like planets, but rather an "exhalation," a mass of atmospheric fire burning up its stored potential when the situation was appropriate.
This was indeed put into question around 1531 after Peter Apian and Girolamo Fracastoro both discovered the fact that a comet's tail is always facing a direction opposite to the Sun, its antisolarity, and Apian suggested this was due to the sun's rays hitting the comet, which meant there had to be more to it.
In this context of skepticism and new arising theories, Tycho set his sights on proving once again that he could beat Aristotle. With his measurements (ten to twenty times more accurate than Copernicus'), he not only managed to show that the comet was squarely supralunar, but that it went past the spheres of Mercury and Venus. YOU SEE, this was actually a double blow: the reigning model also had each planet not as a ball floating in the void, but attached to a physically solid yet translucent orb that moved the planet around through the sphere's rotation, in an universe composed of concentric spheres like the layers of an onion. Believe it or not, Eudoxus' concentric spheres were still alive and kicking, two thousand years later. Tycho's data showed that solid spheres were not possible, as the comet would've crashed into them, and furthermore the comet was hundreds of times bigger than was previously believed. Not only that, he also argued it must have an oblong rather than circular path (another huge break for astronomy in general, accustomed to perfect circles), and he tried to anchor these findings in the philosophy of alternative ancient thinkers, like Seneca (who had been so popular that
forged letters were used to argue he was a crypto-Christian).
Tycho put on a spectacular show, and yet he wasn't done. The guy was a great admirer of Copernicus, he's the one who gave the Comentariolus its title, he gave out copies of it as gifts, he sent a servant to go to Warmia and buy the tools that Nick had used to take his measurements, then marveled at what the canon had been able to achieve with tools as kuso as those. But the science that was proving Aristotle wrong disproved Copernicus as well, and Tycho was also a firm Lutheran who believed the Bible when it spoke of the immobility of the Earth. Therefore he publicly announced he would make a new model to account for all of this, though he wasn't yet sure how. His breakthrough would arrive thanks to a roving mathematician and borderline wizard, Paul Wittich, a man whose life had been at one point lost to history for lack of records of his life, and his arrival to Hven in 1580...