IT was the last day of June, 1954, and the eclipse of the sun seemed like an irresistible attraction – cloud cover, as ever, permitting.

A man who lived near Cupar, Fife, climbed over 11,000ft in his four-seater plane to get a closer view of the eclipse. The first clouds he encountered were at 5,000ft. When he got beyond the second layer he had a perfect view but discovered that the special black lens he had bought in Switzerland were not quite black enough. The sun soon began to blind him, and he had to look away.

He did, however, report that he could not recall seeing a clearer sky – he was able to see the European coastline from the Baltic down to Denmark and right into Germany.

Back on land, people were using smoked-glass lenses of photographic negative to watch the eclipse. Cloud conditions made viewing difficult in the west of Scotland except at odd moments but clearer skies in the east and north “gave an opportunity for perfect vision in a number of localities”, as this newspaper phrased it.

Heavy cloud overhanging Glasgow at a minimum height of 1,500ft almost totally obscured the eclipse in the city, Pupils at Allan Glen’s school (above) tried their best to see it as they left their annual prizegiving ceremony.

“Not very exciting” was the verdict of an astronomy lecturer in Bearsden. The eclipse was glimpsed there at 1.15pm, but he said that not even the birds paid the slightest attention.

Residents of Edinburgh had better fortune. Conditions were ideal in Dundee, and in Inverness. In the latter, the Herald reported, “the eclipse had a particularly eerie lighting effect... The long shadows cast by many of the buildings darkened many of the streets, and for nearly 20 minutes the effect was similar to that obtained by wearing a pair of sunglasses”.

Orkney had had a fortnight of overcast conditions with hardly any sunshine – but on the day of the eclipse the sun suddenly broke out soon after noon.

Read more: Herald Diary