the length of a degree in the tropics would not be without practical value, especially to navigators whose charts would be greatly improved thereby. But Lambton was not thinking of sailors. As he tried to explain in long and convoluted sentences, his measurements aimed at ‘an object of the utmost importance in the higher branches of mechanics and physical astronomy’. For besides the question of the curvature of the earth, doubts had surfaced about its composition and,in particular, the effect this might be having on plumb lines. Plumb lines indicated the vertical, just as spirit levels did the horizontal, from which angles of elevation were measured both in astronomy (when observing for latitude and longitude) and in terrestrial surveying (when measuring heights). But inconsistencies noted in the measurement of the European arc had suggested that plumb lines did not always point to the exact centre of the earth. They sometimes seemed to be deflected, perhaps by the ‘attraction’ of nearby hills. If the vertical was variable – as indeed it is – it was vital to know why, where, and by how much. New meridional measurements in hitherto unmeasured latitudes might, hoped Lambton, provide the answers.
Whether, reading all this, anyone in India had the faintest idea what Lambton was on about must be doubtful. But Arthur Wellesley warmly commended his friend’s scientific distinction, Mackenzie strongly urged the idea of a survey which would surely verify his own, and Governor-General Richard Wellesley was not averse to a scheme which, while illustrating his recent conquests, might promote the need for more. The beauty of map-making as an instrument of policy was already well understood; it would play no small part in later developments.
In early 1800, therefore, the third Mysore Survey was approved, if not fully understood, and Lambton immediately began experimenting with instruments and likely triangles. For what was described as ‘a trigonometrical survey of the peninsula’ it was essential first to establish a working value for the length of a degree of latitude in mid-peninsula. Like those expeditions to Lapland and Ecuador, Lambton would therefore begin in earnest by planning a short arc in the vicinity of Madras. It was not, though, until April 1802 that he began to lay out the first base-line which would also serve as the sheet-anchor of the Great Trigonometrical Survey of India.
The delay was caused by the difficulty of obtaining suitableinstruments. Fortuitously a steel measuring chain of the most superior manufacture had been found in Calcutta. Along with a large Zenith Sector (for astronomical observation) and other items, the chain had originally been intended for the Emperor of China. But as was invariably the case, the Macartney Mission of 1793 had received an imperial brush-off and Dr Dinwiddie, who was to have demonstrated to His Celestial Highness the celestial uses of British-made instruments, had found himself obliged to accept the self-same instruments in payment for his services.
Subsequently landing in Calcutta, Dinwiddie had made a handsome living from performing astronomical demonstrations. But he now graciously agreed to sell his props for science, and the chain in particular would serve Lambton well. Comprised of forty bars of blistered steel, each two and a half feet long and linked to the next with a finely wrought brass hinge, the whole thing folded up into the compartments of a hefty teak chest for carriage. Thus packed it weighed about a hundredweight. Both chain and chest are still preserved as precious relics in the Dehra Dun offices of the Survey of India.
A suitable theodolite for the crucial measurement of the angles of Lambton’s primary triangles was more of a problem. A theodolite is basically a very superior telescope mounted in an elaborate structure so that it pivots both vertically about an upright ring or ‘circle’, thus enabling its angle of elevation to be read off
Dorothy Salisbury Davis, Jerome Ross