In 2023, The Royal Society, the United Kingdom’s storied scientific academy, made history by electing its first Black fellow. Yet, this groundbreaking achievement could have occurred nearly three centuries earlier if not for the entrenched racism of the era. In 1716, Francis Williams, a brilliant 22 yr old polymath from Jamaica, was proposed as a candidate at a meeting attended by luminaries like Isaac Newton and Edmund Halley. Despite his remarkable intellect, his application was rejected solely “on account of his complexion.”
Williams’s story, one of scientific brilliance and social defiance, unfolds against the backdrop of 18th-century colonial society. He was born into slavery in Jamaica around 1690 but was freed as a child. His father, John Williams, who had also been enslaved, managed to amass wealth and status after gaining freedom. This privilege afforded Francis an exceptional education, first in Jamaica and later in England, where he studied at Cambridge University and immersed himself in mathematics and Newtonian physics.
A Life Shaped by Racial Prejudice
Despite his considerable achievements, Francis Williams had to navigate a world rife with racism. His scientific pursuits and literary endeavours continually challenged colonial attitudes. After returning to Jamaica in 1723, following his father’s death, he set up a school in Spanish Town, the island’s then-capital. There, he taught free Black students subjects like reading, writing, Latin, and mathematics, making a lasting impact on the community. Yet his reputation as a scholar never shielded him from the scorn of his white contemporaries.
A painting of Williams, long misunderstood and even mocked, has recently shed new light on his legacy. In 1928, the Victoria and Albert Museum (V&A) acquired this portrait, primarily for its depiction of fine 18th-century mahogany furniture, and relegated it to the furniture galleries. The museum’s curator, Harold Clifford Smith, dismissed it as a satirical work, describing it as “a curious, satirical portrait recording a failed experiment in Negro education.” This misinterpretation stemmed from the prejudiced views perpetuated by Edward Long, a colonial administrator who was a staunch supporter of the slave trade and who authored the since discredited “The History of Jamaica.” In the book Long disparaged Williams portraying him in a derogatory light, in an effort to reassert his racist views that Black individuals were intellectually inferior to their white counterparts.
Painting Uncovers William’s True Genius
The true significance of the painting recently came to light through the research of Fara Dabhoiwala, a historian at Princeton University. Dabhoiwala’s investigation revealed that the portrait is far from satirical; rather, it celebrates Williams’s scientific achievements. Working from high-resolution images and using advanced imaging techniques like infrared reflectography, Dabhoiwala uncovered hidden clues that reframe the portrait as a proud assertion of intellectual accomplishment.
Central to the painting is a large, open book inscribed “Newton… Philosophy,” lying on the table before Williams. This is Isaac Newton’s Principia, and it’s opened to page 521, a section that outlines how to calculate the trajectory of a comet using constellations. Beside the book are mathematical instruments, tools essential for celestial measurement. Behind Williams, a dusk view of the Jamaican landscape features a comet blazing across the sky, aligned with the appropriate constellations—an artistic reference to Halley’s comet, whose return in 1759 confirmed Newton’s laws of motion and gravity.
“I think this painting is making a really powerful statement,” Dabhoiwala explained. “It’s saying: ‘I, Francis Williams, free Black gentleman and scholar, witnessed the most important event in the history of science in our lifetimes, the return of Halley’s comet. And I calculated its trajectory, according to the rules of the third edition of Isaac Newton’s Principia.’” This interpretation positions Williams not only as a participant in this pivotal scientific moment but also as a knowledgeable observer capable of engaging with—and contributing to—Newtonian science.
An Intellectual in a Divided World
Williams’s portrait presents him as a learned gentleman, dressed in a refined navy-blue coat and surrounded by symbols of scholarship. His gaze meets the viewer, exuding confidence and defiance. Yet the backdrop—a view of the Jamaican landscape—reminds us of his roots and the societal constraints he faced. Scientific analysis of the painting, including X-ray fluorescence, has confirmed the use of 18th-century pigments like vermilion and Prussian blue, though it has yet to reveal where the portrait was painted or definitively identify the artist. The painting’s style, however, bears similarities to the works of William Williams, an English-American artist who visited Jamaica in the 1760s.
This portrait is unique: it is the earliest known depiction of a named Black individual celebrating their status as an intellectual. It immortalises Williams’s scientific triumph at a time when the intellectual achievements of Black people were either erased or diminished. The return of Halley’s comet in 1759 was a defining moment for the Enlightenment, proving the validity of Newton’s universal laws. Although Newton and Halley were long deceased, Williams was alive to witness and document this celestial event—an achievement now celebrated in his portrait.
Wiliams’s Struggle for Personhood
Despite his academic prowess, Williams lived a life full of contradictions, his sense of personhood seems to have been profoundly shaped by the social experiment initiated by John, Second Duke of Montagu, who sought to determine if a Black youth, educated at elite institutions like Cambridge, could achieve the same scholarly accomplishments as his white peers.
Although Williams became proficient in mathematics and Latin, his experiences left him conflicted, especially in his interactions with other Black Jamaicans. Some contemporaries noted that he adopted an air of superiority, mirroring the racial prejudices he encountered. This internal struggle made him reluctant to oppose British colonial rule or the system of slavery. Indeed, he inherited and continued to hold enslaved people from his father’s estate, a paradox that underscores the complex realities he faced.
His Latin poetry, often directed at colonial governors, embodies this tension. In his most well-known ode to Governor George Haldane, Williams expresses a painful awareness of his Black identity, yet he refrains from critiquing the oppressive systems around him. His verses, laced with self-deprecating comparisons to white scholars, reveal a man torn between his intellectual achievements and the racial hierarchies that governed his world.
Portrait of A Lost Legacy
Yet Williams used his privilege to uplift others through education, establishing a school that equipped young, free Black Jamaicans with the tools of learning.
Historians and scientists continue to study the portrait to unravel more about Williams’s life and the context in which he operated. One thing is certain: his story is one of resilience and intellect in the face of systemic oppression. As Dabhoiwala remarked, Williams “is a Black man in a white supremacist society. No one thinks it’s worth preserving anything by him.” But now, thanks to this rediscovered painting, his contributions to science and scholarship are finally being recognised.
Discussions are underway to bring the portrait back to Jamaica, where it would serve as a symbol of his enduring legacy and inspire future generations. The conversation about Francis Williams and his rightful place in history is far from over, but it has at last begun to change.
