Tuesday, 4 December 2018

The Extraordinary Martin Brothers


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. 


[1] Thomas Seccombe, revised by Anita McConnell (2006) William Martin (1772-1851). Oxford Dictionary of National Biographyhttps://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/18218

[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.

[4] H.C.G.Matthew (2004) Martin, Jonathan (1782-1838). Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/18198


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.




Thanks to Tate Britain for giving me permission to use the image of Martin’s painting from their web site: https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/martin-the-last-judgement-t01927





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