Victorian Science Through the Female Lens

Mary Somerville (1780 – 1872) was a prominent mathematician and the author of several books on science that were important in their day. She was born in Scotland, largely self-educated, and rose from very modest means to play a leading role among the literati. Her writings examined everything from astronomy to the microscopic, and were aimed to synthesize and illuminate the leading concepts of the day for like-minded peers.

I had never heard of her before picking up the biography, Mary Somerville: Science, Illumination, and the Female Mind by Kathryn A. Neeley (Cambridge University Press, 2001). Somerville’s name is attached to a college in Oxford, but not to any “great discovery” that perpetuates her memory, such as Fahrenheit or Edmond Halley of comet fame.

At the height of her influence, science had not yet professionalized to the degree it would later in the Victorian period. Disciplines were not yet in silos—one could be a generalist and know a great deal about the cosmos as well as microscopy, calculus, ferns, and geology. A broad knowledge was considered best for detecting patterns in the universe and the natural laws that guided them. Science was something to discuss in salons and in correspondence, and Somerville was an outstanding networker. Many of her achievements can be traced to her skill with personal connections.

As well as a very broad acquaintance, including the Herschels of astronomy fame, Ada Lovelace, Walter Scott, and countless other notables among science and literature. In 1840, she was honored with a bust in the Royal Academy of Science for her translation and interpretation of Pierre-Simon Laplace’s mathematical tome, The Mechanism of the Heavens. It was the very first representation of a woman on the Royal Society’s premises. Not that she was admitted as a member, of course.

And there is the interesting path that Mary Somerville trod. She had as fine a mind as many of her male peers, which earned her their respect, but what is frequently mentioned in tandem with her intellect is that she did not present as a bluestocking. Instead, she was a very skilled and feminine navigator of societal norms, further blessed by a marvellously supportive husband in Dr. William Somerville (of her first spouse, Samuel Greig, little is said). However, the social delicacy that brought her freedom in life may well have contributed to the ease with which she was crowded from the stage of history. While she was far from self-effacing, she was just too normal.

I looked into Mary Somerville as research for Queen’s Tide since my protagonist, Olivia Fletcher, is also a student of mathematics. There are parallels between their lives—both Olivia and Mary balance between family obligations and the studies they love. Their worlds, however, are very different. As a result, Olivia has far more exciting adventures, while Mary Somerville led a reasonably sane life, free of ravening monsters. I’m fairly sure Mary would not mind, outside of a lingering sorrow that she never had the chance to study the Unseen.