doubled, for you will have to fly to the mountains to hide yourselves
from your enemies, for the son of Buonaparte has a second time appeared
to me. The first time he stood before me, he stood with a firelock in
his hand, and said to me, I will shoot through the door of an
Englishman. The first time he tried to present, but he was too weak, but
willing to avenge the death of his father, though but a child. The
second time he levelled the firelock, but could not stand the force of
powder. The third time he levelled and fired, and hit his mark, and
said, I will shoot through the door of an Englishman. The second dream
was like unto the first: he broke through the door, and demolished the
house before me with great dexterity and art. The youth appeared before
me with a beautiful countenance, with a light complexion, and light
curled hair; and as he passed before me through the door, I held out my
hand, and he shook hands with me. I have the honour of shaking hands
with the son of Buonaparte, though I have not seen his father, and he
vanished out of my sight. He came from Denmark to reside in England. O
England! prepare for war, and to meet a hot reception; for as you
surprised the Danes at Copenhagen, so will the son of Buonaparte
surprise you and reign in England, and come off victoriously. The thing
is certain, and will come to pass. You must not think the time long, for
the youth will soon be ready to act the part of his father, and do
valiantly; for he shall be a scourge to the wicked clergymen of
England."
At Darlington he was wont to declare that Prayer-books had been the
means of sending many souls to hell. He then wore a coat and boots of
seal-skin, with the hairy side outwards. Afterwards he procured an ass,
which he rode upon, to be more like Christ; and he used to preach to a
society of Oddfellows at the High Cross at Darlington. His son Richard
he put with a pedlar Jew, as his assistant; and when remonstrated with,
said that his reason was that little Dick might labour at the conversion
of the Jews. He was a good workman.
"I came to Lincoln on one Saturday in September, 1827, and on the
following Sunday went to view the Cathedral, as I was a stranger in the
town. I heard the voice of singing close by the Cathedral; I drew near,
and as I stood listening, a young man, a Methodist, opened the door and
invited me in. Three violent young men (for piety), Sunday-school
teachers, pressed me hard to join them to assist them in instructing the
rising generation, and pray that God would give a blessing to their
labours. I told them I would as well as God would teach me. We had not
been long together before the Lord put it in our minds to hold a short
prayer-meeting, that God would own our feeble efforts, and bless the
children. Whilst I was at prayer it was impressed on my mind to pray
that the Lord would fill the large Cathedral full of converted
clergymen, and that He would distribute them amongst all the churches of
Great Britain, that blind guides and the devil might not deceive the
people any longer. I was fervent in prayer, and that prayer disturbed
the devil out of his den. A public-house being next door, the landlady
and her company came into the room whilst I was on my knees, the
landlady afraid of losing her company, and, as it were, hell broke loose
upon me. The devil fiercely attacked me, but I stood to my arms: the
powers of the bottomless pit could not make me rise from my knees until
I had prayed for my enemies; then I arose and gave out a hymn to
conclude the meeting. When the landlady could not turn us out, then she
engaged her wicked company to attack me. They surrounded me, and flew
upon me like fiery serpents from hell, gnashing their teeth, and crying
out: 'Out with him, head first! Break his neck over the stones!' But I
alighted on my feet, and the devil was conquered."
At Lincoln, where Martin worked for a man named Weatherall, he compiled
and printed his biography; two editions were soon disposed of, and he
printed a third edition in 1828, of five thousand copies. A friend and
fellow-believer wrote his biography from his dictation, and it underwent
some sort of supervision, for Martin was wholly ignorant of spelling,
and had little idea of constructing a grammatical sentence.
By hawking his little book about the country, and by quartering
occasionally in the houses of those who were willing to extend their
hospitality to him on account of his gifts of prayer and the Word, he
contrived to make a decent living. He frequented the Methodist chapel at
Lincoln, and received his card of membership from the minister there. In
1828 he got acquainted with a young woman, twenty years his junior,
named Maria Hodson, who lived at Boston. Martin visited her there, and
they were married in Boston parish church. Shortly after the marriage
they came together to York, on the day after Christmas-day, 1828, and
obtained lodgings in the house of a shoemaker named William Lawn, No.
60, Aldwark.
During his stay in York he employed himself in vending his books, and
was well known in the city from wearing a glazed, broad-brimmed,
low-crowned hat, and a singular black leather cape, which came down to
his elbows, with a square patch of fur sewn on the back, and extending
from one corner to the other. At York he attended the Methodist meeting,
but sometimes was with the Primitives, or Ranters. When he had any
vacant time, he spent it in reading either the Bible or his hymn-book.
On Sunday afternoon he was wont to go to the Minster, and on the 6th of
January the following letter was found tied to one of the iron gates of
the Minster choir; it was fastened by a shoemaker's waxed thread, but
was not directed. A verger, however, took it down and gave it to one of
the canons or minor canons, who, however, thought it too absurd to
deserve notice. The following is a verbatim copy of it:--
"York, Janrey the 5-- 1829.
"Hear the word of Lord, Oh you Dark and Lost Clergymen.
"Repent and cry for marcey for know is the day of vangens and your
Cumplet Destruction is at Hand for the Lord will not sufer you and
the Deveal and your blind Hellish Docktren to dseve the works of
His Hands no longer.
"Oh, you Desevears will not milleons of the mighty and Rich men of
the Earth have to Curs the Day that ever they gat under your blind
Docktren know to be a shamd of your selvs and wepe for your Bottls
of Wine and your downey Beds will be taken away from you I warn you
to repent in the name of Jesuse and believe he is able on Earth to
forgeve Sines, for there is no repenting in the greave Oh you blind
Gydes are you not like the man that bilt his Hous upon the Sands
when the Thunder starmes of Gods Heavey vangens lites upon your
Gildrys Heads a way gos your sandey Foundaytons and you to the
deepest pet of Hell re Serve the Curses of millions that your blind
Doctrens has Decevd and to reseve Gods Heve Curs and the Ward
pronounst Depart you Carsit blind Gides in to the Hotist plase of
Hell to be tormented with the Deveal and all his Eanguls for Ever
and Ever
"Jona. Martin, a frind of the Sun of Boneypart Must Conclude By
warning you again Oh Repent repent He will soon be able to act
"the part of his Father
"Derect for Jonathan Martin
"Aldwark No. 60"
Another epistle was also found, on Wednesday, the 21st of January, by a
sailor from Hull, who being at York, visited the Cathedral in company
with his wife. When walking along the western aisle he saw on the ground
near a pillar, a small packet, which he had the curiosity to open. It
was tied with a shoemaker's waxed thread, covered with old matting, and
contained a stone, round which was wrapped a pamphlet, entitled "The
Life of Jonathan Martin." He also found in the parcel a letter, sealed
with cobbler's wax, and addressed to the Clergy of York. He read and
exhibited both the letter and pamphlet at the house where he was
stopping, but they were thought of no consequence. Fortunately,
unimportant as they were considered, he did not destroy them. The letter
was couched in the same strain as that already given.
In other MSS. dropped in or near the Minster, and bearing the signature
of "M.," the following expressions were found:--
"Your great churches and minsters will fall down on your guilty heads;"
but no sort of suspicion was entertained that anyone was wicked or mad
enough to cherish the determination of destroying one of the finest
existing specimens of the munificence and piety of our ancestors;
therefore no precautionary measures were taken.
On the 27th of January, Martin left York with his wife, stating that
they were going to Leeds to reside, and his luggage was sent off
accordingly to that place. They arrived in Leeds on the 28th, and Martin
remained there till the Saturday following. They lodged at the house of
John Quin, No. 6, Brick Street. His conduct is described as having been
most orderly and decorous. He attended worship at a chapel of the
Primitive Methodists one evening; his conversation was cheerful and
perfectly rational; he appeared to be kind and affectionate to his wife,
and spent the time while he was in the house chiefly in singing hymns,
reading the Scriptures, and conversing on sacred subjects. The principal
part of Thursday and Friday he was engaged in vending his pamphlet. When
he left Quin's house on Saturday morning, between nine and ten o' clock,
he seemed perfectly tranquil, and said he was going to fulfil an
appointment that he had in the neighbourhood of Tadcaster, and that he
should return to his wife at Leeds on Monday by dinner-time. Instead of
stopping at Tadcaster, he came back to York, and went to his old
lodgings in Aldwark. He told Mr. and Mrs. Lawn that he and his wife had
been no further than Tadcaster, and that he was going to stop in that
neighbourhood for the purpose of hawking books. He asked if he could
sleep there that night, and on being answered in the affirmative, he
took possession of the room he had before occupied. In the afternoon he
went out and was observed perambulating the Minster-yard, and taking
special note of the building. His attention appeared particularly
directed to the western towers. He returned to Mr. Lawn's in the
evening, and remained till eleven o'clock on Sunday morning, when he
went out--and returned no more.
This wretched incendiary had then, no doubt, laid all his plans for the
destruction of the Minster; a project which, to judge from his
subsequent communications to Mr. Wilson, a local preacher at the
Wesleyan Methodist Connexion at Hexham, he seems to have entertained for
some time. The motives which prompted him to attempt the destruction of
this beautiful church were the fanatical antipathy he entertained
towards the clergy of the Church, whom he condemned as "blind
guides"--to whom, however, he said he felt no ill-will, malice, or
personal hostility, but he was sorry for them, as he believed they were
leading the higher ranks in society astray; and the destruction of the
Minster, he was of opinion, "was for the glory of God, the good of the
people of England generally, and for the good of the inhabitants of York
in particular, as when the Cathedral was destroyed they would be
compelled to disperse themselves to other places of worship, where they
would hear the Gospel preached." When he had fully made up his mind on
the subject, he began to apprehend opposition from his wife; and he told
Mr. Wilson that he adopted the following extraordinary mode of
neutralising it:--"He took the ring from her finger whilst she slept,
and though she manifested much concern at the loss of her ring, he
allowed her to vent her feelings in unavailing regrets, until he thought
her sufficiently moulded to his purpose. He then exacted a vow from her
that she was to keep his secret, and he would restore her ring. This
being agreed to, he told her his intention, on which she seemed greatly
disturbed, and they went to Leeds."
After Martin left his lodgings on Sunday morning he went to the Minster
and heard the sermon. In the afternoon he repaired there again, and
entered the south transept as soon as the doors were open. He walked
about till after the service began; and the sexton (Job Knowles) noticed
him passing several times as he was ringing the bell for prayers. Before
he entered the Minster in the afternoon he had provided himself with a
"razor with a white haft, the back of which he used instead of a steel;
a flint, tinder, matches, and a penny candle cut in two." This, however,
soon burnt out, and he replaced it with one of the wax candles which had
been used in the Minster the previous evening. During service he
concealed himself behind a tomb--probably Archbishop Grinfield's, in the
north transept--muttering to himself as the organ played, "Buzz,
buzz--I'll teach thee to stop thy buzzing." There he remained till all
the people had left. He then quitted his place of concealment and walked
about, looking where he could best make the fire. The ringers were in
the belfry in the evening, and from behind a column he watched them go
out. And here it may be remarked that very important consequences often
result from apparent accidents. If the ringers had locked the door of
the belfry after them, in all probability he could not have made his
escape from the Minster, but would have been compelled to remain till
the doors were opened in the morning; when mingling with the crowd, in
the hurry and confusion, he might not have been noticed, and the
calamity would always have been ascribed to accident.
After the ringers left, Martin went into the belfry and struck a light.
A gentleman who was passing the Minster about half-past eight o'clock,
saw a light in the belfry at that time; but as the ringers had been
there, he thought they were about ringing again, and took no notice of
the circumstance. Two persons who were confined in Peter Prison also saw
a light in the belfry after nine o'clock. At this time the incendiary
was busy preparing his means of escape. He cut about ninety feet off the
rope attached to the prayer-bell, which passed through a hole in the
floor of the belfry into the aisle below, and having pulled it up, he
formed it into a ladder by doubling it and tying knots at regular
distances. After he had worked some time, he put out his light, and
finished his ladder in the dark. When this was completed he left the
belfry, and having climbed over the iron gates which separate the nave
from the north-east aisle, he used the rope-ladder to get over the gate
leading from that aisle into the choir, which is usually kept fast. He
then struck a light the second time, and with the razor cut three yards
of gold fringe, two gold tassels, &c., from the pulpit, and the crimson
velvet curtains from the dean's and precentor's seats at the bottom of
the choir, and those from the archbishop's throne. He also took a small
Bible, and as he expected to be taken and imprisoned, he brought away
the Bible that it might be a comfort to him in his confinement. He then
piled the cushions and Prayer-books in two heaps, on each side near the
carved work, and set them on fire by introducing matches among them.
Having done this, he set about making his escape. He had brought with
him a pair of shoemaker's pincers, which Mr. Lawn had left in the room
where he slept on Saturday night, and having tied one end of his rope to
the machine used for cleaning the Minster, he dragged it under the
window in the west aisle of the north transept, which he broke with the
pincers; and having seen that one of the piles (that by the archbishop's
throne) to which he had set fire was burning briskly, he descended, and
left the Cathedral a little after three o'clock in the morning of the
2nd of February, taking with him the articles before mentioned, and also
some purple silk--a part of one of the robes of the clergy.
During the time he was in the Minster he says he felt no fear, but was,
"on the contrary, quite happy; sometimes he prayed, and sometimes he
praised God, because, as he said, He had strengthened him to do so good
a work!"
The incendiary had left the Minster several hours before the fire was
discovered. The patrol left the Minster-yard about half-past two
o'clock, before he had made his escape, and they saw no indications of
anything unusual when they left. About four o'clock a man going past saw
a light in the Minster, but he thought the workmen were preparing a
vault, and unfortunately passed on without endeavouring to ascertain
what was really the cause of so unusual an occurrence as a light burning
in the sacred edifice at that early hour.
At five o'clock a series of reports, resembling repeated explosions,
were heard. The parties who heard them wondered what they meant, but
never thought of tracing them to their source. The discovery at last
took place in the following singular manner:--A lad named Swinbank, one
of the younger choristers, whose duty it was to go and practise at the
Minster early every morning, went as usual a little before seven o'clock
on the morning of the 2nd of February. He found the doors were not open,
and began to slide on a piece of ice in the Minster-yard to amuse
himself. Whilst so doing he fell on his back, and before he recovered
himself from that position he saw smoke issuing from the roof of the
Minster. Alarmed at the sight, he went to Job Knowles, the sexton, for
the keys. On his return he found the doors had been opened by some of
the workmen, and Mr. Scott, the builder, entered the building at the
south door, but had scarcely got in when he was compelled to retreat--so
dense was the smoke that respiration was impossible. A gentleman with
difficulty then made his way to the organ screen; but was compelled to
retreat to avoid suffocation. By the vestry-door, however, access was
obtained to the choir--the gates from the vestry, and also those leading
from the aisle into the choir, being fortunately open. The fire, which
originated at one end of the stalls, had consumed the whole row, with
all their tabernacle work; and about half-an-hour after it was first
discovered, the flames had spread to the stalls on the other side. One
of the Minster engines was kept in the vestry, and this was immediately
placed in the aisle, where it played on the place where the
communion-plate was kept, and around which the flames were raging with
great intensity: the tabernacle screen was in this spot burnt to the
ground, and the plate was melted into one mass. As soon as this engine
was got to work, several individuals succeeded in carrying out the whole
of the cushions and books from the north side of the choir; the cushions
and part of the hangings of the Cathedral were also saved, as was the
curious old chair which stood within the rails. The next effort was to
remove the brass eagle or lectern. This was effected with great
difficulty, owing to its weight, by the few persons who had the courage
to brave the suffocating effects of the smoke. They were driven back
three times before they succeeded in carrying off the upper part of the
eagle, which was taken into the vestry; the other portion was afterwards
carried out at a door on the chapter-house side. All this was the work
of a few minutes; and at this time (perhaps about a quarter after
seven), the organ screen, the north side of the choir, and the roof,
were to all appearance untouched by the fire. At this period, if a few
firemen had been present who understood their business, this part of the
church might have been saved. Shortly after, however, the flames spread
round the south-west corner of the choir and reached the organ; and when
this noble instrument caught fire, an appalling noise--occasioned by the
action of the air in the pipes upon the flames--resounded through the
building, and struck with awe all who heard it.
Whilst this was passing in the interior of the building, the alarm had
been spread through the city by the ringing of the bells of St.
Michael-le-Belfry, and the Yorkshire Insurance Company's engine was soon
on the spot. It was placed at the south door, and the pipes were carried
into the Minster, and directed over the organ upon the fire which was
then raging in the choir. The city engines arrived soon after, and were
stationed at different parts of the building. An express was sent to the
barracks, and the barrack engine arrived about eight o'clock. Major
Clark and several officers accompanied it with a file of the 7th Dragoon
Guards, who were of great use in facilitating the operations of the
persons employed in extinguishing the flames.
About ten minutes before eight o'clock another engine was brought into
the Minster; but the roof having caught fire from the organ--the flames
from the latter igniting some of the bosses of the groining, which were
of maple-wood--the melted lead and pieces of burning timber began to
fall so rapidly that the men were compelled to abandon their positions,
and the engine was stationed further off, in the nave, whence it
continued to play over the screen upon the burning ruins in the choir
for several hours. Previous to the removal of this engine, an attempt
was made by two or three gentlemen to cut down the great gates leading
from the choir into the north-east aisle, with a view to cut off the
communication with the altar: the molten lead and burning rafters,
however, fell about them so rapidly that they were obliged to desist.
By eight o'clock, or a little later, the organ--one scarce equalled for
tone and power by any instrument in the world--was totally consumed,
together with the valuable collection of music which was deposited in
the organ loft; and much of which, being in manuscript, could not be
replaced.
By the exertions of Mr. Plows, stone-mason, a number of men were about
this time got upon the roof of the side aisle; by means of ropes,
buckets and the pipe of an engine were hoisted up, and from this
elevation a torrent of water was discharged upon the flames beneath. A
number of men were also employed in cutting away the roof towards the
east window, who continued their exertions as long as they were
practicable. About a quarter past eight o'clock the flames burst through
the roof, near the lantern tower, and the spectacle from the exterior
was awful and impressive in the extreme, whilst the effect of the scene
in the interior was magnificent beyond description. Immediately in front
of the screen which divides the nave from the choir, the engine already
alluded to was playing directly upon the fire, but with little effect,
owing to the magnitude of the space over which the flames had spread
themselves. From the screen to the altar the vast area had the
appearance of an ignited furnace; and the men who were employed in
working the engines, and in various other ways endeavouring to stop the
progress of the flames, resembled beings of another world rather than
inhabitants of this material globe. Their voices, as they shouted to
their comrades for "water" or for more assistance, fell in harsh and
discordant tones on the ear; they moved enveloped in an atmosphere so
dense that it was scarcely possible to breathe in it, partially
illumined by the flames and partly by the rays of the sun, which now
streamed in through the painted windows, producing altogether an effect
indescribably beautiful and grand. A number of bats and other birds,
burnt out of their retreats, were now seen flitting about, unable to
find an outlet, and many perished in the flames.
About half-past eight o'clock an express was sent by Archdeacon Markham
to the Mayor of Leeds, informing him that the Minster was on fire, and
requesting that two of the largest engines belonging to that town might
be sent off immediately. This was shortly followed by another express
from Mr. Newman, the actuary of the Yorkshire Fire Office, requesting
that two more engines might be immediately forwarded to York. At this
period serious fears were entertained that the fire would extend over
the whole of this immense fabric; the flames were rapidly gaining ground
at the east end, and the engines had not the least effect in allaying
their progress. The lantern tower, and the whole of the roof of the nave
appeared to be saturated with smoke, which also poured out of the
windows of the western towers. The knotted rope having been discovered
by which Martin made his escape, and not satisfactorily accounted for,
and its being rumoured that a bunch of matches had also been found which
had been lighted at both ends, the opinion that the fire was not caused
by the gas, or by candles being left in the organ-loft or in the
clergymen's robing-room, which had at first been entertained, began to
give way to the idea that this was the work of an incendiary; and when
the smoke was seen issuing from the places we have mentioned, it was at
once said that a train had been laid, and that it was breaking out in
different places. This, providentially, was not the case; the smoke
penetrating the roof, &c., was merely occasioned by the denseness of the
volume of vapour collected in the church before the doors were opened,
and which at last found vent in that manner; and the fire never extended
beyond the lantern tower.