Abraham-Louis Breguet

Time, its nature and its measurement have long been a human preoccupation. From the earliest times, perhaps before the rise of Homo sapiens, our hunter-gatherer forebears led short lives dictated by the seasons. An awareness of position within an annual cycle was a survival attribute. The Holocene witnessed the emergence of agriculture and consequently a need to think ahead, to plan. However informal, a time-based schedule entwining lead-times and resources was formulated, even if only within the farmer’s head. Similar patterns of thought would have driven the conventions of fishing communities. An awareness of migrations, lunar cycles, and tides developed. Plans assembled around the passage of time.

Belief systems, less immediately vital but seemingly ingrained, also demanded surveillance of the firmament; facilitating adherence to sacred customs. Similarly, attempts to predict future events via astrology implied timely scrutiny.

Plans assembled around the passage of time.

Mapping cosmic cadences

Efforts to monitor the heavens and predict occurrences, whether lunar or solar, appear to have driven the construction of monuments at what would have been an enormous cost, given the paucity of people and simplicity of equipment. Noteworthy South American examples that pre-date any recorded European presence abound: Brazil, Chile, and Peru all host towers, pillars, and cairns that are meticulously arranged to identify solstices and equinoxes. The Thirteen Towers of Chankillo, built on a Peruvian desert ridge, warrants study beyond the scope of this modest piece. In England, Stonehenge offered similar information to prehistoric societies over centuries. Separated by great distances with no prospect of communicating, these structures exemplify a logical convergence as our antecedents endeavoured to map cosmic cadences.

Clocks and precision

Attempts to build clocks in a present-day sense, rather than devices to mark seasonal cycles, are relatively recent. Water clocks were prevalent in the Islamic world and reached Europe, where refinements continued. The 16th century was a pivotal period because notions of precision in toolmaking coincided with advances in astronomy. Landgrave Wilhelm IV was a powerhouse of the era. A politician and a soldier, but also a passionate scientist, who transformed Kassel into a pre-eminent technological hub. His documented exploits, together with his intuitive Swiss clock-making technician, Jost Bürgi, justify a detour as compelling as the Peruvian towers. While the telescope is rightly deemed a singular breakthrough, an accurate clock extended the scope and utility of observations. Indeed, Galileo pondered combining the disciplines by positing the orbits of Jupiter’s moons as a universal clock. His inquisitiveness also led him to pendulums, another foundation of horology.

Progress accelerated with the 17th century polymaths Robert Hooke and Christiaan Huygens at the forefront. A dispute over the invention of the spiral balance spring for pocket watches ensured that neither gained a monopoly, fostering broader innovation.

Longitude and John Harrison

The rigorous tracking of time in hours, minutes, and seconds, became a strategic imperative, attracting state interest and funding. By the 18th century, the British, with global interests defended by the powerful Royal Navy, faced an increasing challenge: determining longitude at sea. Navigation over oceanic expanses was uncertain and hazardous. While latitude could be readily calculated by measuring the altitude of a celestial body, given suitable weather, longitude was more elusive. In principle, if the local time of a reference point (such as Greenwich) could be maintained over the course of weeks or months, comparing it to local solar time would reveal the vessel’s angular displacement and hence its longitude. The requirement was a sufficiently accurate clock. Isaac Newton, the pre-eminent sage of the era, considered such a device impractical, as did Huygens, whose trials with pendulums had failed. Into this daunting arena strode John Harrison, less a horologist, more an imaginative carpenter. The chronicle is protracted, like Harrison’s life, but ended in a magnificent triumph, with technical and political obstacles surmounted, inspiring modern literature and a film. Watchmaking advanced accordingly, placing Harrison in the vanguard of a burgeoning class of European specialists.

Abraham-Louis Breguet

A pioneer from a subsequent cohort was Abraham-Louis Breguet, a man with origins in Switzerland who achieved renown in Paris. Born in 1747 CE, his prolific career spanned the turn of the 19th century. His formal education ended, aged twelve. A child from a modest background but with a stepfather from a watch-making family. After much persuasion, he was apprenticed to a master watchmaker in Versailles, adjacent to the Royal Court. In retrospect, an era of intellectual turmoil as the Enlightenment evolved. A period when science, mathematics, abstract philosophy, and political theory were advancing at unprecedented speed. An intoxicating initiation for a young novice, likely unaware of the preceding centuries of comparative stasis.

The record suggests that from the outset, Breguet exhibited exceptional talents, combining keen intelligence and an aptitude for fine mechanics. He sought supplemental education at the Collège Mazarin, where his evenings were consumed by the study of mathematics. A distinguished contemporary at the college was Adrien-Marie Legendre, soon to become one of France’s most formidable mathematicians. Breguet’s abilities earned him a devoted mentor in his tutor, Abbé Marie. The value of mentors and feats of Legendre are themes embedded in Jimbo’s Assumption.

Mentors, the Court, and exile

His tutor’s untimely and abrupt demise extinguished a vital source of wisdom. Before his death, Abbé Marie’s elite links had brought Breguet to the attention of the Court and ultimately to the King himself. Over the years, a stream of prestigious commissions flowed from this initial contact, bringing Breguet an income and social status. Coupled with inherent technical ingenuity, his career flourished. Yet, he lived during a period of extreme political volatility: the French Revolution. In that climate, being held in high regard by royalty and aristocracy was a hazardous and potentially lethal distinction. Prudence dictated temporary exile; from 1793 CE, for two years he lived in England. Breguet had already forged a friendship with John Arnold, a Cornishman with impeccable horological credentials. The affiliation was such that their respective sons became apprentices in the other’s workshops. Arnold introduced ‘chronometer’, a designation still prized today. These engineers were cutting edge innovators of the age, enjoying a public standing comparable with today’s celebrity tech pioneers. The modern mechanical watch embodies their originality.

The modern mechanical watch embodies their originality.

The perpétuelle

The self-winding watch or perpétuelle is one of the gifts Breguet left to posterity. In total, his business is reckoned to have produced around seventeen thousand timepieces. Owing to the relentless attention to detail demanded by Breguet, no two were identical; each a masterpiece of micro-engineering.

How would Brequet and Arnold regard present-day horology: of digital quartz and atomic clocks, where a caesium device achieves an accuracy of one second in 100 million years? As engineers, devoted to exactitude and with deeply numerate minds, surely a reaction of insatiable curiosity tinged with admiration.

The nature of time

Today, we continue to ponder the fundamental nature of time. Why does its arrow run in only one direction? Entropy, we believe. We know that velocity and gravity dictate its very rate of passage, and that a photon traverses billions of light-years in an instant from its own frame of reference.

The exquisite mechanical engineering of Breguet, Arnold, and their peers is more readily grasped, but also timeless. A triumph of mind over motion. Unique in the galaxy?