Why is John Martin's painting of The Plains of Heaven used on the cover of The Claudians?

Painted 1851–53, Martin's triptych relates his apocalyptic thoughts to an idealized vision of eternal peace. The triptych includes The Plains of Heaven, The Great Day of His Wrath and The Last Judgment. Together they form a dramatic image of destruction, divine judgment and heaven. The Plains of Heaven is thus a vision of redemption and hope, encapsulating Martin’s Romantic fascination with the sublime and the spiritual. He depicts a vast, otherworldly landscape bathed in ethereal light. We see towering mountains, serene lakes, and lush valleys stretch endlessly, evoking the divine and the infinite. Martin's palette dwells on soft golds, blues, and greens to convey harmony and divine light, contrasting with the tumultuous reds and blacks of his preceding apocalyptic works. As the final piece of the triptych, The Plains of Heaven symbolizes the ultimate reward for the righteous.

The triptych represents the theological context in which Martin, like Claudius Buchanan and John Claudius Loudon were raised though, unlike Martin, this came from the Church of Scotland, John Knox and John Calvin.

Buchanan retained his faith until the end of his life. Believing himself to be one of the elect, shown being led by angles in the top section of The Last Judgement. Loudon became disillusioned with Christianity, probably influenced by Scottish enlightenment thinkers and by the way in which many Catholic priests lived in luxury while accepting money from the poor,

Martin had a Puritan zest and may have been influenced by William Blake (1757–1827). Both Martin and Blake had an interest in visionary themes, biblical subjects, and cosmic scales. Blake's mystical and imaginative works could have inspired Martin's fascination with grandiose, spiritual narratives. Whether or not this is so, there is a parallel between Martin's paintings and Blake's poetry.

In his 1804 poem And did those feet in ancient time Blake wrote that: I will not cease from Mental Fight, Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand: Till we have built Jerusalem, In Englands green & pleasant Land.

Martin and Loudon's London Improvements

John Martin, like Loudon, was a passionate advocate for urban planning and public infrastructure reform in 19th-century London. Martin's visionary ideas reflected his desire to improve the living conditions of the city’s growing population and to address the pressing issues of public health, transportation, and flood control.

In 1827–1828: Martin began developing his plans for improving London’s sanitation and flood control. He presented ideas for embanking the Thames to address the flood problem and to integrate a sewer system beneath the embankments.  In 1834 Martin formally submitted his proposals for a Thames embankment and sewage system to the British government. This plan included ideas for reservoirs, underground sewers, and public walkways. He was exceedingly disappointed by its non-adoption.

Martin was certainly aware of Loudon's work. He is known to have a copy of his Encyclopaedia of Architecture on his bookshelf and may have used the garden history illustrations in Loudon's 1822 and 1835 Encyclpaedia of Gardening to inform the historical features in his apocalyptic paintiners. Loudon also seems to have borrowed from Martin.

Martin's foresight anticipated later developments like the Thames Embankment (constructed in the 1860s) and Joseph Bazalgette’s sewer system.

Martin argued for a unified and efficient transportation system, a centralized transportation hub and improved road networks. His vision included broad boulevards and streets, inspired by the sweeping urban designs of Paris, to reduce congestion and improve accessibility. He proposed elevated walkways and bridges to facilitate pedestrian movement and enhance connectivity across the Thames. Martin also wanted to see the creation of open, accessible parks and recreational spaces for the public, providing relief from the overcrowded, polluted urban environment. This reflected his belief in the moral and aesthetic benefits of integrating nature into urban planning. Many of these ideas are to be found in Loudon's 1829 proposal for Breathing Zones for the Metropolis.

Excerpt from The Claudians (Tom Turner, Amazon Kindle, 2004, Chapter 12)

John Martin and his daughter were witnesses to the wedding, in 1830, of John Claudius Loudon and Jane Wells Webb. While Loudon and Martin may have had a prior aquaintance, it seems more likely that Loudon met Martin through Jane Wells. She was intimate with Martin, his wife and his children. In The Claudians, the meeting is imagined as follows:

‘Bitter’ was the word on everyone’s lips when remembering the winter of 1830. On February 3rd the ground was hard and the refrozen snow was glassy. A watery sun peeped through the midday gloom and sank back into the murk. Every coal fire in London belched smoke. The room in which Mr Loudon worked was warm. But the rest of the house was cold and dark. ‘It’s bigger than Kerse Hall,’ he reflected, ‘but half a glance reveals it to be a bachelor’s residence.’ His valet helped him dress, tucking his empty right sleeve into his jacket pocket.

By 5 pm it was dark. By 6pm, when Mr Loudon left his Bayswater home, the smoggy air was as thick as potato soup. At three paces, trees were invisible. He took a cab. It was less than two miles to Marylebone, but no weather for walking. Beams from oil lights in the houses scarcely reached the carriageway. Link-boys were a necessity. Carrying torches of burning pitch they walked in front of cabs yelling ‘make way.' The journey was slow and noisy. Vehicles mounted the flag-stone pavements beside the carriageway. Foot passengers screamed when given a fright.

Jostling coachmen shouted, whistled and sang to warn of their approach. As the demand rose, link-boys dissolved into the freezing fog. When replacements were found the cost had risen from a farthing to half a crown. Having experienced worse conditions, Mr Loudon was relaxed when his cab stopped outside 30 Allsop's Buildings on the Marylebone Road.

A sound of merriment came from within. This was the home of the artist, Mr John Martin, his wife and their six children. The drawing room was large but cosy. It had two sofas, a piano and rosewood chairs in crimson damask. There were paintings after Poussin, Vandyck and Reynolds. The dresser had a plaster cast of the Townley Clytie and a lilac gold Sevres coffee set. It was a present from Louis Philippe, the Duke of Chartres. The ormolu candlesticks were a gift from Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s elder brother. Yet the scene was not aristocratic. It was the Bohemian home of a great and famous landscape painter.

Friends knew that Wednesday was John Martin’s regular day for Evenings at Home. His guests were artists, craftsmen and writers. Chess and card games were in progress. The jollity of the party was a welcome contrast to the freezing gloom of London’s smog, and to Mr Loudon’s monastic life in No. 3 Porchester Terrace. 

The friend who had brought Mr Loudon introduced him to Mrs Susan Martin. They bowed to each other. After discussing the grim weather, the guest said he was hoping to meet the author of The Mummy. ‘There,’ she said with an open smile, and pointed to the fireplace. He saw a distinguished man in conversation with three attractive young ladies. Mr Loudon knew the man and held out his left hand to shake his right hand.

‘Mr Jerdan, my warm congratulations. I did not know you were a novelist.’

‘Then you were right, Mr Loudon, for I am not. And if you think that all writers are men, you are again mistaken. Each of these three young ladies is a published author, as well as a contributor to my Literary Gazette. I present to you Miss Landen, Miss Spence and Miss Webb. And I invite you to guess which of my Three Graces penned The Mummy?’

Drawings by John Martin and John Claudius Loudon

Encyclopaedia of Gardening, 1835 edition

"These gardens have not been forgotten in the inspired pictures of Martin, who has realised, in his painting of the "Destruction of Babylon"(fig. 3.), all that the most vivid and fertile imagination could conceive of Eastern splendour. The fine effect of the cedar and the cypress in these gardens has been ably illustrated by a writer in the Gard. Mag., vol. i. p. 119."