William Martin
William Martin (1772-1851) was “an able mechanic” [1] who worked as a
ropemaker and also served in the militia, where he developed a reputation as a
highly competent swordsman, often taking part in, and winning, duels [2]. He
was also an inventor and, in his biography [2], he includes the following
quote, where Mackenzie describes well-known residents of the Parish of Wallsend
in Newcastle-upon-Tyne [3]:
“William Martin, the Natural
Philosopher,” resides here. He has published, under the patronage of his Grace
the Duke of Northumberland, “A New System of Natural Philosophy, on the
Principle of Perpetual Motion; with a Variety of other Useful Discoveries.”
From the Lord having made man a living soul, by breathing into his nostrils the
breath of life, Mr Martin infers that air is the cause of perpetual motion..
..Mr Martin’s other discoveries are numerous and useful. They consist of a
life-preserver for seamen, air-fans for ventilating coal-mines, an inimitable
safety-lamp, a plan for curing the dry-rot, cutting canals, and extinguishing
fires at sea; also an improved velocipede, a suspension bridge, &c &c.
But unfortunately, though under such noble patronage, his inventions have not
been brought to a successful termination; and most of them have been stolen
from him by unprincipled men! Mr M. did, however, obtain, in 1814, a silver
medal and ten guineas from the Society of Arts, for his invention a of a spring
weighing machine...
Based on this description, what are we to make of William Martin? His
Perpetual Motion Machine was exhibited in London in 1808 and among those who
saw it was Charles Hutton FRS, the famous mathematician [4]. He complimented
William on the elegance of construction, but concluded that the pendulum of the
machine continued to swing because of the influence of magnets. William, quite
rightly, denied this, but chose not to explain that a hidden tube connected
with the outside of the building allowing atmospheric air to be drawn to and
fro, just beneath the ball at the base of the pendulum. William himself gave a
description of the machine in 1825 but it is difficult to imagine its construction
without seeing a version of it. As to his other inventions, Balston [4]
concludes that “..William’s safety-lamp and weighing-machine were of real
value..” and it may well be that the lamp was superior to those of Davy and
Stephenson that became most widely known. Among William’s less successful
inventions was the “Northumberland Eagle Mail”, a type of dandy horse bicycle
propelled by the feet of the rider (see below – there were many versions and we
do not know who copied whom). William used this to ride from town to town
giving lectures on Natural Philosophy, although Balston [4] describes the
failure of one demonstration: “…on the Town Moor, he got excessively hot
propelling it over the rough ground and was pelted with mud by the spectators.”
Clearly, William was thick-skinned as well as having a talent for
invention, although he continued to be irked by what he felt was a lack of
recognition and this set him against the scientific Establishment. He clearly
retained a liking for duels, although not of the kind in which he was so
successful as a younger man. Seccombe [1] writes:
He founded the Martinean Society, based
on opposition to the Royal Society, and particularly hostile to the Newtonian
theory of gravitation, against which he harboured a growing antagonism, which
ultimately embraced all men of science. Styling himself ‘anti-newtonian’,
Martin began giving lectures, first in the Newcastle district and from 1830
throughout England. Throughout these years his voice was heard at many
meetings, ranting against scientists in general. He was inevitably drawn to the
annual gatherings of the British Association for the Advancement of Science,
the butt of his polemic The defeat of the eighth scientific meeting of
the British Association of Asses, which we may properly call the rich folks’
hopping, or the false philosophers in an uproar (1838).
In addition to his views on science and scientists, William also
pronounced on politics and economics (I apologise on his behalf for the sexism)
[4]:
He believed that there was much more
wisdom among the poor than among the rich and thought that only poor men should
be elected to Parliament. The college-bred man, he said, could make great
speeches, but a man could be a wonderful speaker without being wise. He scouted
the idea that England was over-populated, and said that shortage of food and
employment was wholly due to the mismanagement of the rich. He advocated
Government works – improving roads, reclaiming waste land, planting forests,
and enclosing commons – as the cure for unemployment. He proposed a
two-shilling income tax on all incomes above £100, and was ready to compensate
the taxpayers by giving each of them a gold medal or star to wear, with the
total amount of his taxes engraved on it.
It’s no surprise that the wider Establishment also rejected him after
such an attack. As we look back at William Martin, this quote from a review of
his book A New System of Natural Philosophy in The
Newcastle Magazine of January 1822 concludes [5]:
When Mr Martin’s volume is read in the
21st century.. ..the wise of that day will doubtless exclaim that, though not
quite so extensive as the universe, his works are equally inexplicable. After a
quotation or two, and a few exclamations about the greatness of God, and the
raptures of our author at the sight of Jupiter, Saturn, and Venus.. ..Mr Martin
concludes with the republication of Pope’s universal prayer, which, an
ill-natured critic would say, is certainly, though not the most amusing, by far
the most instructive piece of philosophy in the book.
That’s right up there among the best damning reviews one could get, but
I haven’t read William Martin’s book so I am not in a position to judge.
However, having been trained as a scientist, I am conscious of the need to
avoid exaggeration and dishonesty, although there are cases of scientists who
bend the rules to get exposure. Although he was not trained as a scientist,
William Martin provides an example of someone who had talent, but did not
follow this creed, yet it is easy to warm to his stand against the political
Establishment and the role of the “ruling class”. His ideas on economics also
have a contemporary feel.
Do we appreciate characters such as William Martin and, more
importantly, should we pay them much attention? How extraordinary, too, that
William and two of his brothers all became famous in their day: Jonathan (1782-1838)
was a notorious arsonist, driven by his religious beliefs [6], and John
(1789-1854) a well-known artist who has works in the collection at Tate
Britain.
[2] William Martin (1833) A Short Outline of the Philosopher’s
Life, from being a Child in Frocks to the Present Day, etc. Newcastle, J
Blackwell and Co..
[3] E. Mackenzie (1825) An Historical, Topographical, and
Descriptive View of the County of Northumberland, etc. Volume II.
Newcastle upon Tyne, Mackenzie and Dent.
[4] Thomas Balston (1945) The Life of Jonathan Martin,
Incendiary of York Minster. London, Macmillan & Co.
[5] Anon (1822) William Martin, The Natural Philosopher! The
Newcastle Magazine, January 1822 pages 25-28.
Jonathan Martin
A religious conversion is usually transformative. Having been brought up
as a Christian, and having attended evangelistic rallies, I have often wondered
what happens in people’s minds during that process. Some insights are given in
“testimonies”, but these are often full of clichés and not very helpful to
understanding.
Jonathan Martin (above) gives a description of his conversion in his
autobiography [1]:
The first Love feast [a gathering of
Christians to share bread, water and prayer] that I attended was at Yarm; my
soul was dismayed and filled with unbelief, and I wept sore and would not be
comforted. My brethren fell on their knees and prayed with me, but their
prayers were of no effect. I went home and went to bed sorrowful, not having
found the blessing of which I had aforementioned dreamed..
..My religious friends were often
enquiring if I felt the Witness of the Spirit, to which I replied that I did
not and would not, till the time came.
At the end of five months, I took the
Sacrament in the Church at Stockton, and leaving it at half past one o’clock, I
hastened to Yarm, where the lovefeast was to commence at two o’clock. I had
only had an hour to go four miles, but I was running for a prize, and was
determined not to be late..
..I arrived before the first prayer was
finished, and was not five minutes on my knees till the Lord set me at full
liberty, and here too he shewed me that I had indeed met with the people among
whom I must find my way to glory..
..The next night I was invited to a
Prayer Meeting at Norton, the Room we occupied was nearly full, and
while the Class Leader was giving out a Hymn, The Spirit of God came
down in such abundance into my heart, that I was ready to leap over the Table
for joy.
Clearly a profound, and transforming moment for Jonathan, but who was he
and what were the consequences of his conversion?
Fenwick Martin, Jonathan’s father, was a tanner (but had many other
jobs) and was known as an excellent swordsman. He eloped to Gretna Green with
Isabella Thompson, the daughter of a landowner who did not approve of Fenwick,
and they went on to have thirteen children, only five of which survived to
adulthood [2]. The five children were all born in different towns and villages,
a result of the itinerant lifestyle led by their parents. Fenwick loved
travelling from place to place [2].
Jonathan was the third child - a sister and brother were to follow him –
and he had a birth deformity, being tongue-tied. This was cured by cutting the
membrane holding the tongue to the floor of the mouth when he was "in his
sixth year", something that resulted in a speech impediment for the rest
of Jonathan’s life [2]. This early experience must have troubled him, as his
inability to speak as a young child meant that he was isolated and he often
walked alone in the countryside. He was self-educated and could read and write,
but he was apprenticed to a tanner in Hexham, following one of this father’s
professions. He also took after his father in having wanderlust and he was
determined to see something of the world when his apprenticeship ended in 1804.
In London, he was press-ganged into the Royal Navy, serving on the H.M.S.Hercules (where
he was amazed that the Captain ordered bands to play on a Sunday, offending his
religious beliefs) before being transferred to another ship that had been
captured as a prize. At Cadiz:
..he had many narrow escapes from the
shore batteries, and this made him “begin to see his lost ruined state as a
sinner, and to cry to God for mercy and salvation, hoping He would spare him to
return to his native land, when he would join himself to the people of God”,
i.e. the Wesleyan Methodists [2].
Shortly after, Jonathan jumped ship and sailed in a merchantman for
Egypt and returned via Sicily to Portsmouth, where he was paid off. In this
last journey, a rogue wave in the Bay of Biscay nearly sank the ship, a scene
illustrated in Balston’s biography [2] (see below). From Portsmouth, Jonathan
travelled to London and then back to the North-East of England where he
returned to work as a tanner. He married in 1814 and had a son, Richard, who
was named for one of Jonathan’s brothers.
We now reach the time when Jonathan went to the love-feast in Yarm and
his conversion, as described in the autobiography. He went on to develop an
intense dislike for the Church of England and his life became guided solely by
messages from God, sometimes coming in dreams [2]:
The Wesleyan Methodists were so alarmed
by his conduct that they expelled him from their Society, and Mr page [the
tanner] dismissed him from his employment. But he felt the peace of God in his
soul, and was not discouraged.
Over the next months he moved around to get work and maintained his
hostility to preaching in the Church of England, even attempting to interrupt
sermons. On hearing that the Bishop of Oxford was to hold a confirmation at
Stockton, Jonathan decided to attend. He had previously borrowed an old, broken
pistol from his eldest brother, which was discovered by his wife. On being
asked what the old weapon was for, Jonathan replied that it was to be used to
shoot the Bishop. His wife subsequently removed the pistol and Jonathan went to
the service in Stockton without it – however, she reported Jonathan’s
“intention” to the Church authorities and he was subsequently arrested and
appeared before the Justices at Stockton who, on getting some typically strange
answers to their questions, “ordered him to be confined in a madhouse for
life”. Jonathan was then conveyed to the West Auckland lunatic asylum.
Balston [2] gives us an account of Jonathan’s life in the asylum, where
he suffered at the
hands of both fellow inmates and, on occasion, from the
asylum owner. He was transferred to the asylum at Gateshead, where he had an
ambivalent relationship with the owners, just as he had at West Auckland, and
eventually escaped from there via the roof (see above). Jonathan wandered
through the countryside and was exhilarated at being free, visiting a distant
relative of his mother, who made him welcome. Unfortunately, his wife had died
of breast cancer in 1821, so he could not return to her and he travelled widely
through the North of England and Scotland. Jonathan was able to earn some
income as a tanner and from hawking copies of his autobiography while on his
journeys. The first edition was published while Jonathan was in Darlington in
1825, a second being printed in Barnard Castle in 1826, with a third in Lincoln
in 1828.
It was in Lincoln that he married Maria Hudson and Richard, who had been
lodging with Jonathan, was then sent to a boarding school. Jonathan was
readmitted to the Wesleyan Methodist Society and he retained the fervour, and
convictions, so clear to him at the time of his conversion. With Maria, he
travelled to York, arriving on 26th December 1828, and it was Jonathan’s
activities in York that led to his widely-known notoriety. It began with a
series of letters (all with Jonathan’s idiosyncratic spelling [that had been
corrected in the autobiography]) attacking members of the clergy in the Church
of England for their indulgent lifestyles and complacency, but none received a
reply. Jonathan was further angered by this, stating [2]: “I found the Lord was
determined to have me show this people a warning to flee from the wrath to
come.”
He devised a plan to carry out his threat and, on 1st February 1829, he
entered York Minster and, after kneeling in prayer, was directed to go to the
bell loft, where he remained when the Minster was locked up for the night.
Balston [2] details what happened next and, in summary, these consisted of
Jonathan gathering flammable materials and setting them alight – all guided by
the reassurance and direction that he gained from God through prayer. He
escaped though a window and the resultant blaze burned through the night,
destroying part of the roof and the interior of the eastern part of the Minster,
including the Archbishop’s throne.
After this disaster, a group of clergy and magistrates met to discuss how
the fire occurred. They concluded quickly that the fire was the result of
arson, the rope ladder used by Jonathan to climb to a window having been
discovered, and the culprit was identified after questioning people who had met
him. The letters were also produced and an arrest warrant for Jonathan was
issued, with a reward of £100 for his capture. He was eventually tracked to
Codlaw Hill and was taken to the “House of Correction” in nearby Hexham. From
there he was taken to the jail in York and appeared before the Grand Jury at
the Guildhall on 23rd March 1829, an event so popular that there was a melee
over the available seats and it was agreed that a more fitting location would
be the County Assizes, commencing on 30th March. On being charged
with setting fire to the Minster, Jonathan replied [2]: “It was not me, my
Lord, but my God [that] did it.” The trial proceeded, with many witnesses who
knew Jonathan being called; the letters he had written being admitted as
evidence. The jury returned a verdict of “not guilty on the grounds of
insanity”, with Jonathan detained during His Majesty’s pleasure. He was sent to
London and was eventually confined in the Hospital of St Mary of Bethlehem
(“Bedlam”), dying there in 1838, aged fifty-six.
Was Jonathan insane? There are many cases where people commit acts after
praying, or believing that they are receiving a message from God. Does this
mean that all those who act on such impulses are insane? Would Abraham have
killed Isaac on the orders of God if an angel hadn’t intervened [3]? Did
Jonathan Martin have a breakdown, as Matthew describes it in his biography
[4]? Do visions and these powerful religious impulses come from
mental breakdowns? Does religious conversion follow a kind of breakdown, or
heightened emotional state, where rational thought is
suspended? When does “hearing God” become “hearing voices”? I ask
these questions as an atheist and I’m puzzled.
[1] Jonathan Martin (1828) The Life of Jonathan Martin, of
Darlington, Tanner (Third Edition). Lincoln, R.E.Leary.
[2] Thomas Balston (1945) The Life of Jonathan Martin,
Incendiary of York Minster. London, Macmillan & Co.
[3] Genesis Chapter 22 in The Holy Bible.
P.S. The preface to Balston’s biography of Jonathan Martin is written to
Edith Sitwell who had published her English Eccentrics eleven
years earlier in 1933. Did he feel that Jonathan would be a worthy candidate
for entry into a future edition of Sitwell’s book?
John Martin
Towards the end of his life, John Martin painted three large pictures,
all of which are now in the collection of Tate Britain. Only “The Plains of
Heaven” of 1853 is on display, high on a wall in the room dedicated to British
Art of the 1840s. The other two paintings “The Great Day of his Wrath” of
1851-3 and “The Last Judgement” of 1853 are in store.
Shortly after these works were completed, Martin suffered a severe
stroke on 12th November 1853 and he died at Douglas on the Isle of Man on 17th
February 1854 [1].
“The Last Judgement” (see above) can be considered one of Martin’s finest
achievements, but, before examining the painting, we should consider John
Martin’s life and his success as a painter. He was born in Haydon Bridge in
Northumberland, the fourth surviving son of Fenwick Martin, an itinerant
tanner. John’s mother, Isabella, was religious and insisted that her children
said prayers twice daily and had a fear of Hell and the devil [2], an
upbringing that clearly affected him, as many of his paintings were on
religious themes – “The Last Judgement” being a good example.
John’s eldest brother, William, became famous, or should it be infamous,
as an inventor and “philosopher” [3]. Next came Richard, who had an army career
and rose to the rank of Quartermaster Sergeant in the Grenadier Guards [4], and
then Jonathan, who achieved notoriety for deliberately setting fire to York
Minster in protest against the behaviour of senior clerics [5]. Having William
and Jonathan as older siblings, with their strongly-held and controversial
views, must have been a big influence on John, who described himself as a
“timid and nervous child, fearing to be in the dark and dreading ghosts and
hobgoblins at every corner” [1].
John’s passion for drawing and painting was clear throughout his
childhood, but he lacked recommendations that would allow him to train with an established
artist. Instead, he was first apprenticed to a coachbuilder, for whom he
painted flourishes and images, and then became a pupil of Boniface Musso in
Newcastle who taught him enamel painting and, by returning for extra tuition,
the art of oil painting [2]. He was an enthusiastic, and diligent, student and
he moved to London in 1805 to join Charles Musso, Boniface’s son, as a china
painter [2]. He continued to study composition, perspective and architecture in
his free time and eventually began to exhibit some of his oil paintings,
becoming noticed by at least one influential patron, Prince Leopold of
Saxe-Coburg [2]. Having this entrée, he was able to work as an artist.
Arnold’s Magazine of the Fine Arts for December 1833 [6] contains an
article entitled “On the genius of John Martin” and we can get a flavour of the
piece from several quotes:
We presume there are few readers of our
magazine (artistical, literary or scientific) who are not acquainted with the
name of John Martin, and to whom that name is not as “a household word,”
embodying, in one conception, all that is great and glorious in art..
..we have seen many attempt the same
supernatural style in painting and conception, but, in the general effect, they
have fallen most immeasurably short of that richness, extent, and magnificence
of design, which are inherent in all the pictures of John Martin..
There is much more in the same vein, detailing Martin’s skill in
conveying architectural detail, sense of space, use of light and shade, etc.
and it concludes with this:
..as if to add another proof to the
true inconsistency of man, or of the nature which rules within him – as if to
shew, we had almost said, what the overbearing spirit of jealousy and power can
do – what shall we say to that great body of British Artists, who constitute
the members of the Royal Academy, when the truth stares them, and the whole
world, in the face THAT JOHN MARTIN IS NOT A MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY..
The capitalisation is in the article and the whole piece is a passionate
celebration of the paintings of John Martin and a sure indication that he was
not a member of the Arts Establishment. A later article in the same magazine
describing John Martin’s engravings for “Illustrations of the Bible” adopts a
more critical tone, describing one as “a failure both in design, composition,
and general effect” and another as having inappropriate figures as part of the
composition. It does, however, describe John Martin’s ability to depict “the
vast, the great, and the terrible”.
It is these skills which are featured in “The Last Judgement”, painted
twenty years after these reviews and no-one can doubt that Martin was working
on a large scale (the canvas measures 326 cm x 197 cm and the illustration above
gives no impression of its size). A work on this scale gives an even greater
sense of awe to those viewing it, an important consideration in paintings based
on religious subjects.
“The Last Judgement” contains much detail, arranged into distinct
sections (see above). The upper part of the painting shows the second coming of
Christ, surrounded by angels and other heavenly figures, bathed in a dazzling
light that is reminiscent of some works by Turner. At the right, we see the
final expulsion of Satan (clad in black, of course) and he is cast into the
giant chasm that runs diagonally and separates those who are saved from those
who are damned. Some of the “saved” have been identified [2] and they include
the painters Michelangelo, Rubens, Dürer and Wilkie; the writers Dante,
Shakespeare and Milton; and the scientists Galileo, Franklin, Watt and Newton.
The latter choice would not have pleased John’s brother William, who was
passionate in his dislike of Newton [3], although this was as much a dislike
for the mainstream view of science and scientists than it was against Newton
himself. William died in 1851, so he was not going to be put out by John’s
choice. On the side of the damned, there are many less-recognisable figures,
but prominent is a bishop, so John is expressing the same strong dislike of
Church leaders that was shown by his brother Jonathan, who died in Bethlem
Royal Hospital in 1838 [5].
“The Last Judgement” had a mixed reception and it is easy to be critical
of the work today. However, it must be accepted that its scale is impressive
and it does have a strange, visionary quality. Perhaps Arnold’s Magazine was
right in suggesting that John Martin should be elected to the Royal Academy,
although his anti-Establishment stance, shared with his brothers, probably
didn’t help? They were, however, a remarkable trio and John, like William,
showed versatility as a free-thinking inventor, putting forward plans for a new
London waterfront and also infrastructure for the supply of clean water [1].
The three brothers are now largely forgotten, but we still have John’s
paintings to remind us of the Martin family, even though they are not all on
public display.
[1] Thomas Balston (1947) John Martin 1789-1854: his life and
works. London, Gerald Duckworth & Co.
[2] William Feaver (1975) The Art of John Martin. Oxford,
Clarendon Press.
[4] Thomas Balston (1945) The Life of Jonathan Martin, incendiary
of York Minster, with some account of William and Richard Martin. London,
Macmillan & Co.
[6] ? M. Arnold (1833) On the genius of John Martin. Arnold’s
Magazine of the Fine Arts 3.2: 97-104.
