construction. It was he who made the decision to send for piano wire, and Thomas Crosfield who devised the adjustable fluid damper. But, Leamington is a teacher, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, yes.”
“So what was he supposed to do, carry on everything himself, or teach others to do it?”
“By that reasoning, to teach. Certainly.”
“And has he?”
Dr. Comber cleared his throat. “Thank you. Let us return to the main business. The donors are growing impatient. They question whether we can make a firm commitment to a regimen of mathematics and science on which an engineering curriculum could be built. There are veiled hints of endowing a chair of physics at Oxford if we don’t satisfy them soon, rather than a chair of mathematics here.”
Thorndike snorted. “I wish no ill to our brothers at Oxford, but you may readily guess my preference between those alternatives.” That brought a few dry chuckles from around the table. “If we confer the honorary degree, we do two things. We do justice for meritorious scholarship, and we take a clear public stand. We commit ourselves to the future instead of the past.”
Thomas Randolph spoke for the first time, chin propped on interlaced fingers, in measured cadence to match. “There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.”
“A quotation from Shakespeare is something I’d expect from you, though not necessarily that one. But I couldn’t imagine anything more apt. Much hangs on what we do now.”
“I merely amused myself paraphrasing your words.”
Duport had been staring at his hands. Now he looked up again. “You witnessed this gravity measurement, Master Thorndike? You vouch for the report?”
“Of course. I followed the design of the apparatus from the beginning, and checked the math myself. Not that there’s anything complicated about it.”
“Very well. I’ll take your word for it.”
Dr. Comber favored him with a wry smile. “No, I don’t think you should do that. The essence of science is repeatable experiment, as we’ve heard often enough. I would have you reach a conclusion by your own hands and eyes, rather than give grudging agreement to the opinions of others. Please, do the experiment. John, how long would it take to prepare?”
John snapped to full alertness at the question. “I should think three or four hours for Master Duport to read the report and familiarize himself with the plan. The mathematics is within the grasp of any B.A. The apparatus is still in place in the porter’s storeroom, so we only need wait for the town to become quiet before we can start a run. Some time after eleven should be suitable. Say, four hours to take the measurements and reduce the data.”
“So it could be done this very night. Good. We can convene again at noon tomorrow and finish this debate without putting off the donors any longer. James? Will you do it?”
“Since you ask in such a way, how could I refuse?”
“I thank you.” Dr. Comber looked over sharply at John. “You appear to have something else on your mind. Say it.”
“Er, I’m not a major fellow yet.”
Thorndike laughed. “We all know how your disputations went. You will be in three weeks, short of slipping a doxy into our sacred precincts.” There was a flurry of snickers around the table at that absurd thought.
“You won’t like it.”
Dr. Comber still had his eye fastened on him. “It seems to be my duty increasingly often of late to listen to things I don’t like. Speak.”
“Well, then, a number of the undergraduates and B.A. s are starting to ask why they should continue to study Aristotle’s cosmos. They object to having their time wasted.”
Duport erupted. “We all studied it. Why should they be excused?”
Thorndike shot back, “That was before it was discredited.”
The decision hadn’t been unanimous, but in the end the fellows had passed the grace, much to John’s relief. Thankfully, Duport was among those assenting. Now a large part of the university, with families and friends, was gathered in Great St. Mary’s Church for the commencement. Dr. Henry Smyth was officiating, he being vice chancellor this year. John had been placed at the end of the M.A. s, so that he could assist Richard. He leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry. Thorndike and I are being scrupulously careful with the proofreading. The text will be printed as you wrote it.”
“The index and the table of contents, though? I’ve done no work on them.”
“A couple of sizars are compiling them as we speak. John Stay and Edward Lucy. They’re good lads, and it will benefit their educations more than waiting at table. Besides, Thorndike and I will check every entry. All right, it’s time for us.”
John stood up, then gave Richard his hand. They walked to the front, Richard leaning on his cane with one hand and John’s arm with the other.
Dr. Smyth stepped down from the platform as they came toward him, in consideration of Richard’s infirmity. He announced, “John Rant. Master of Arts.” He presented the diploma to John’s free hand. “Richard Leamington. Honorary Master of Arts, by the grace of the master and fellows of Trinity College.” Richard let go of John’s arm long enough to take the diploma, then passed it to John to carry for him as they returned to their seats, to scattered clapping.
There were two other honorary degrees given, both by royal influence.
Then two men ascended the platform and went to stand beside Dr. Smyth. John had seen the mayor of Cambridge before; the other must be Jeremiah Brantley. He looked toward Richard. Richard nodded.
The mayor had a document in his hand. Holding it out before him, he addressed the assembly in a ringing baritone. “The towns and merchants of Cambridgeshire named here now present the endowment for a chair of mathematics at this university, to be called the Cantabrigian Chair.” It took him a solid two minutes to read all the donors’ names. “The duty of the Cantabrigian Professor shall be to act in all ways to promote the knowledge and use of mathematics for the public good, foremost by teaching. We give this with the condition that the holder shall not be required to take holy orders.” He handed it to the vice chancellor. “Dr. Smyth, will you confer the insignia?”
“Yes. Master Herbert Thorndike. Cantabrigian Professor of Mathematics.” Thorndike stepped forward, and Dr. Smyth draped a colored band of cloth over his shoulders and shook his hand. “The professorship of mathematics shall encompass physics as well, until other arrangements may be possible.”
It looked to be a decent day. There’d been enough of a rain shower overnight to lay the dust, and not enough to turn the roads into a muddy obstacle course. Raindrops still sparkled on the wildflowers by the roadside.
Nathan watched as James Bright brought the wagon around to the warehouse door, then went to stand by the horses, calming them during the loading.
Nathan and Jeremiah bent to lift a keg into place. “Father, it’s well that I heeded Daniel and went to call on Richard yesterday. He needs us now. We must bring him here. I could go with James now and we could carry him back in the wagon. There will be room enough.”
“Why so? I regard him highly, but aren’t they caring for him at the college?”
“Yes, but that care threatens to take a perverse turn. He’s growing feeble, and his speech is slurred at times. One of the medical faculty has been badgering him unmercifully to allow bleeding and purging. You know how arrogant and headstrong some of that fraternity can be. If he can no longer make his wishes understood forcefully…”
“Well, a professor of medicine, though. Don’t they know what’s best?”
“I think we can safely say that nobody in England knows as much about multiple sclerosis as Richard. If he says there’s no treatment, there isn’t. Opiates for times of pain, but that’s about all. Not to mention what the army’s new field medics taught us about first aid. Loss of blood helps nobody, and sterile technique has yet to be taken seriously at Cambridge. Such practices are as likely to carry him off with a raging fever, as bring any other result. And can you imagine anything more miserable than purging a man who must be helped on and off the
