The Trusty Servant May 2020 Issue 129 | Page 8

No.129 feared a general, nationwide, conspiracy to revolution. In 1827 Huntingford contracted a serious illness from which he never recovered. It prevented him from attending the House of Lords in September 1831 to join Addington in voting against the second Reform bill – a vote that killed the bill and The Trusty Servant which unleashed riots in Derby and Nottingham and the destruction of the bishop’s palace in Bristol. He died in College on 29 th April 1832, as the third Reform bill made its way to the peers in Parliament. With Huntingford died not merely a constitutional arrangement, but what the historian, Boyd Hilton, calls ‘the intellectual ascendancy of a world view, the cultural hegemony of the old elites.’ Huntingford could not look to the future with any confidence or sanguine hope. The ‘Revolution’ in Britain had ‘made such rapid strides’. This is an extract from a longer essay by Dr Guymer on Huntingford, which can be obtained by emailing the editor at [email protected]. Dreams of Earth and Sky: Freeman Dyson (Coll, 36-41) Freeman Dyson died on February 28 th 2020, aged 96. Ryan O’Keeffe (C, 96- 98), wrote this appreciation for the 2013 Wykeham Journal: It does little justice to the remarkable catalogue of achievements of Freeman Dyson (Coll, 36-41) to state simply that he is one of the world’s pre-eminent physicists and mathematicians, although any scientist – and even many non- scientists – will tell you he is. In advance of an interview with Professor Dyson, who resides in Princeton, New Jersey, some background research suggests a colossal intellect awaits me on the other end of the telephone. When I get through, however, what is most striking is the ease with which our discussion proceeds. Professor Dyson’s natural warmth comes through in a way that immediately dispels any suggestion of the stereotypically unapproachable scientist in an ivory tower of intellectual superiority. ‘Winchester College has been a part of my life for longer than I can remember,’ he tells me. ‘I was eight months old when we moved into 21 Kingsgate Street in 1924, when my father was appointed Director of Music at the College.’ His earliest childhood memories therefore are of running around Meads, climbing trees and chasing dogs. ‘We were hooligans!’ he says of himself and his friends, the young children of other members of Common Room. Charting the course of his progress from young hooligan to Professor Emeritus at the Institute for Advanced Study, the position he holds today, is an exercise in the appreciation of the fulfilment of human potential. Professor Dyson was awarded a Professorship at Cornell University at the age of 28. Had it not been for the war, and two years consequently spent in Operations Research at RAF Bomber Command halfway through his undergraduate degree at Cambridge, he might well have achieved this accolade even earlier. He has had over a dozen books and papers published, including his 1979 autobiography Disturbing the Universe, in which he discussed his ambitions to travel into space, having set himself the timetable of personally reaching Saturn by 1970. He has advised governments on matters ranging from nuclear 8 warfare to climate change. He is one of very few to have been received Ad Portas at Winchester twice, and the list of his awards and honours reads comprehensively, with only a Nobel Prize missing from the list. Although many argue that the committee has committed an oversight in never having awarded him the Nobel Prize for Physics, Professor Dyson counters modestly that he prefers the infamy of never having won it, while also pointing out that ‘people asking why you didn’t get the prize is much better than them asking why you did.’ In the midst of all this achievement, the world of science recognises Professor Dyson’s demonstration of the equivalence of the formulations of quantum electrodynamics as his single most important contribution. He explains to me in very clear and simple language that quantum electrodynamics is the study of how atoms and light particles behave, the most spectacular application of which is the laser. ‘The physical ideas were all correct, and the proofs had been comprehensively gone over many times,’ he explains. ‘However, the mathematics was a bit of a mess, so it was difficult to be 100% sure that it