SRB03

NOW lets turn to the man himself

ROBERT STAWELL BALL (1840 - 1913 )

Born in Dublin on the 1st July 1840 he was one of 7 children, with 2 brothers and 4 sisters; Valentine, Charles, Kate, Mary, Amelia and Annie. Valentine was a noted biologist and spent many years in India. Charles became a surgeon and was later regious professor of surgery at Dublin University.

His first memories include being thrust from an upstairs window, at the age of 6 or 7 to watch the funeral of Daniel O’Connell, the so called Liberator, who fought for the Irish cause.

This was also the time of the Potato Famine, and he recalls potatoes being replaced by suet dumplings, which must have been something of a luxury compared with the fare of much of the Irish population at the time; when between 1846 and 1851 the number of people who died from starvation exceeded one million. Another million were forced to emigrate to escape the hunger.

Home also became something of a menagerie. His father, in his position as Secretary of Dublin Zoo, often took immediate charge of any new animals before onward transport to the Zoo. He recalls the arrival of a sloth which, in an attempt to mimic conditions in its native Brazilian forest, was hung over the back of a dining chair in front of a roaring fire. Years later, the chair, which still bore the creature’s teeth and claw marks, made a very interesting after dinner story.
He also remembers a Galapagos tortoise, so large that it could be sat on and ridden round the kitchen.

His mother, originally from Bristol, was determined that he should be brought up to speak and act like an English gentleman, rather than have an Irish accent. To this end she would only employ English governesses and tutors. To no avail, however, as even in his old age he still had an Irish lilt to his voice. And this was in spite of an early schooling in England.

He was for a time a pupil at Dr. Burke’s school in North Great George St., but at aged 11 his father took him to England to a boarding school in Turvin, a small village near Chester, run by the Rev Dr John Brindley. He soon settled down and had not been there very long when he went with the school to see the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park, where his main recollection was seeing the Duke of Wellington riding horseback. I came across this picture by chance, it shows a fine telescope, exhibited by Lord Rosse, but more about him later.

Though he claims to have hated school, he got excellent reports, especially for maths. At age 12 he was 15th out of 87, even though most of the pupils were several years older. By the time he left six years later, he was first in maths.

Remember Remember 5th November, Robert had very painful remembrances of November 1854. Experimenting secretly at school with some home-made fireworks, a powder flask exploded, severely burning his hand, which he almost lost, and the scars of which stayed with him for life. He was out of action for a number of weeks.

Something extraordinary happened whilst he was at Turvin. Brindley, the headmaster, had originally leased the land, and built and extended the school property over a number of years. The landlord, at the time of lease renewal, insisted on a huge increase in rent, commensurate with the value of the school and its buildings, to which it must be added that he had contributed nothing. Brindley refused to pay and closed the school. Before departing however, and together with many local villagers, he set about demolishing the school, raising all the buildings to the ground.

It wasn’t long before Brindley had re-opened the school, this time in nearby Chester, in Northgate, but under considerable financial duress, he then moved to Leamington Spa, where Ball stayed for a few months before being summoned home in March 1857. His father had died suddenly, from a ruptured aorta. Robert was just 16 years old.