August, 1755. Newcastle, on the north bank of the Tyne.
In the fields, men and women are getting the harvest in. Sunlight, or rain. Scudding clouds and backbreaking labour. Three hundred feet underground, young Charles Hutton is at the coalface. Cramped, dust-choked, wielding a five-pound pick by candlelight. Eighteen years old, he’s been down the pits on and off for more than a decade, and now it looks like a life sentence. No unusual story, although Charles is a clever lad – gifted at maths and languages – and for a time he hoped for a different life. Many hoped.
Charles Hutton, astonishingly, would actually live the life he dreamed of. Twenty years later you’d have found him in Slaughter’s coffee house in London, eating a few oysters with the President of the Royal Society.
By the time he died, in 1823, he was a fellow of scientific academies in four countries, while the Lord Chancellor of England counted himself fortunate to have known him. Hard work, talent, and no small share of luck would take Charles Hutton out of the pit to international fame, wealth, admiration and happiness. The pit-boy turned professor would become one of the most revered British scientists of his day. This book is his incredible story.
I am an aeronautical engineer / rocket scientist with a passion for mathematics. Yet I have only heard of Charles Hutton associated with the measuring of mount Schiehallion and not with mathematics. I was therefore keen to read this book to find out more about this interesting man. This is a well researched book - the references and notes at the end are very comprehensive - which is easy, interesting and enjoyable to read. Being ex-British Army too added an extra interest to his life for me particularly as I too served on the staff of our Military Academy. He was certainly an astonishing man who probably deserves more public acknowledgement as his work certainly advanced the wider understanding of mathematics in Great Britain and arguably across the globe. Anyway enough said, a good read if you are interested in this branch of science. Recommended.
A rather competent biography that chronicles the professional life of the scientist Charles Hutton. It is competent as it skilfully presents a clear-cut sketch of an ambitious arriviste who dextrously seizes every chance to rise above his humble social stratum on the base of industrious auto-didacticism. It is especially perceptive, provoking and ingenious when Wardhaugh swiftly scans out Hutton’s life-long drive to fame and essential tendency of exhibiting his talent and intelligence in reading his work on mensuration Treatise on Mensuration (1770) by generalising how this book of ‘elegancy and beauty’ is dotted with structural and logical defects as a result of overtly show-off of ‘authorial dexterity’. ‘Competent’ also underlies my reservation about this book: it is quite a plain piece of work that does the job of telling a rather inspiring story but no more. It did trigger guffaws of laughter from me, especially when it narrates Hutton’s misstep of hasting to have a book on bridge-building theory published right after the Newcastle bridge destroyed by a flood in the hope of appraisal – only to be mercilessly criticised for its theoretical ignorance in structural engineering and technical errors. (I doubt the guffaws are the intended response that the biographer envisages – it is more of a result of my strong dislike of the subject for his vaingloriousness and cold withdrawn from his origin).
I really liked the first part describing Hutton's ascent and appreciated his pragmatic approach to mathematics. I also enjoyed learning about the philomaths and the fact that, at that time, math in GB was more recreational in the wake of Newton vs. the more formal Continental approach that really triggered a leap in research and results in the 18th century to present that powered foundational results in other areas like physics.
One really great part emphasized by the author was the likely significant role played by the women in Hutton's life and productivity, his second wife Margaret and daughter Isabella. This seems to be a theme re: the unsung women of science (cf movie Hidden Figures).
However, the focus on the Royal Society squabbles was really a minor and rather uninteresting intellectual history, even to a math person like myself. It was interesting and certainly important to Hutton's life, but all rather dull. I'd contrast it with similar writing on Samuel Johnson in Leo Damrosch's excellent "The Club" which was excellent.
Overall, interesting bio for a now minor figure in math.