I love smart, interesting, talented women. I collect them, both in real life and more abstractly (you can see part of my IRL collection here). The latter is especially easy: I can add writers and scientists, artists and sportswomen into my Hall of Fame and they can do nothing about it. As I’m also very equal opportunity about it – doesn’t even matter if you’re alive or dead or completely imaginary – the Hall is expanding fast.

One of the most recent additions, together with the US gymnast Simone Biles, is astronomer Caroline Herschel. I found her in a somewhat unexpected place: The Age of Wonder, a book about science and romanticism in the 19th century by Richard Holmes. Mainstream texts about history of science are usually not big on the female contributors to the canon, but Holmes does a good job describing Caroline, her work and her challenges. Ultimately, she becomes one of the central figures – and in my opinion, highlights – of the book.

Caroline Herschel was born in in Hanover in 1750 and spent years doing her family’s chores. Small and scarred from a bout of typhus, she was not considered a beauty and had no serious prospects to marry. The only chance of escape came when her beloved brother William asked Caroline to join him in England. The original intention was for her to become a singer (the entire family was extraordinarily musical) and she had a promising start, but as she loyally declined to perform with anyone but her brother, her career withered.

The brother in question, William Herschel, was meanwhile developing from his modest amateur beginnings into one of the greatest astronomers of all time. Caroline became not only the runner of the household, but his diligent assistant and collaborator and ultimately, an independent explorer of the skies. William who was also manually gifted, built for her a telescope, with which she “swept” the sky night after night. She went on to discover 8 comets and put together a comprehensive guide of nebulae, impressive feats even without considering the context. Taking into account the restrictions and limitations she was facing, it’s nothing short of extraordinary. Caroline became the first woman in history to be paid for scientific work, as her brother’s assistant. She was also awarded a Gold Medal of the Royal Astronomical Society and received another from the King of Prussia. Together with Mary Somerville, they were first women to be named Honorary Members of the Royal Astronomical Society.

While this reads like a true success story, the real life was of course much more complicated and nuanced. I have no room here to do justice to the complexities of her life*: the sacrifices, difficult choices, frustrations, bitterness and regrets. The central theme is I think relevant for so many women in the past and, unfortunately, in the present: she became an eminent scientist thanks to her brother, she would not have in a position to ‘mind the heavens’ if she did not have a male relative who facilitated this. But what would she have been able to achieve if she wasn’t also a housekeeper, a minder, an assistant, but a scientist working in her own right, spending her time as she wanted to? And ultimately, was this what she really wanted to do?

Women who have made their mark in history are usually – or are at least portrayed as – strong, impressive characters, often flamboyant and striking. They probably needed to be, to step out of the traditional roles assigned to them. Caroline is also extraordinarily strong, but her strength is in her discipline, resilience, diligence and loyalty. Again, this is probably not only the type of person she was, but the strategy forced on her by circumstances. She called herself The Celestial Housekeeper – a title that manages to be 100% correct, proud, ironic and a bit sad all at the same time. I find her incredibly inspiring.

PS If you’re interested in having a drink in Caroline’s honour, here is a wonderful cocktail recipe to try.

*Read the book!