The following series of essays published during the year in the Magazine of Art and collected in the year volume for 1880. The page numbers in the original are recorded in square brackets thus [xx]. This digital translation has been taken from the original hard copy and consequently the images are of far greater quality than those in the copy currently available on Archive and can be downloaded as indivicual high-res images for non-commercial teaching and study purposes.
Wood Engraving by Henry Holiday published in five parts in the Magazine of Art (London) in 1880.
[page 26] Part One
HE history of wood engraving is a singular one. The art has waxed and waned with no little fitfulness since its first invention, and it is difficult to say whether, even now, it has taken its proper place. Looking at the vast number of woodcuts produced every year in this country alone, at the excellence of the designs made for many of them, and at the skill shown by the engravers, it would seem that wood engraving must have reached its zenith, and that only the irreconcilables in art could expect more than is actually found in the best woodcuts of the present day. Ought we to expect more, and if so, in what direction? The present essay is an attempt to answer these questions.
With this object in view, I propose to sketch briefly the past history of the art in so far as it bears on the subject, in the belief that this history teaches a distinct lesson, in the belief also, that the lesson has not been learnt, at any rate has not been inwardly digested by the present generation of artists and engravers; that the high class of many modern cuts is due to the ability of the artists, and the care and skill of the engravers, but that a yet higher standard is attainable, and may, I trust, before long, be attained. Before entering on the proposed retrospect, it will be advisable to say a few words about the process of engraving on wood, and to show how it differs from engraving on copper, that what follows may be intelligible to such readers as are not already familiar with the subject.
With wood the process is reversed, the lines that are to print black are left, the white spaces only are cut away, leaving the lines prominent, which, when inked with a roller, are transferred under the press to the paper. We have here two absolutely opposed methods. The copper-plate before the engraver has begun his work, would print white if treated by the printer in the regular way. The wood-block before the engraver has begun his work would print black.
The copper-plate engraver, starting from pure white, proceeds to darken this white by drawing black lines upon it, or by cutting lines which print black.
The wood engraver starting from pure black, proceeds to lighten this, by taking out lights, or by cutting away spaces which print white.
Thus details of execution which are easy to the one are difficult to the other, and vice versa. Black lines, however fine, are readily produced on copper, whereas on the wood-block they can only be obtained by cutting away the wood on each side, and leaving the line. White lines, on the other hand, and white details generally on a dark ground are cut with ease on wood, but on copper the dark spaces must be filled in with lines, the lights being carefully left. Fig. 1 is an attempt to show this diagrammatically, though necessarily executed entirely on wood: A represents the [27] woodcut, in which the leaves on the dark ground are cut direct with pure lines ; B is the engraving on copper, in which the lines against the sky are more delicate, but those against the stone being expressed by the indirect process of filling the intervening spaces with shading, are less clear.
Such difficulties are overcome by practice, and are thought little about by engravers on either material, but the difference in the quality of the work always remains visible to the eye of an artist. A line, whether black or white, will always be better line if drawn or cut direct, than when obtained by the comparatively artificial process of cutting away, or filling up the surrounding space so as to leave the line.
From this point of view the wood-block has rather the advantage. The engraver cuts a trench on each side of his outline, and in gouging away the adjoining wood, works only up to these trenches. Fig. 2 shows a line in three stages, the upper part of the line on a white ground, the lower on a tint. In this lower part, the "trench" is reduced to an almost invisible incision. The line is thus obtained by a nearly direct method. In the first incision, the engraver is free to make as good a line as the etcher's needle, and though the quality of this line is slightly endangered by the necessity of making another incision in close proximity, in skilful hands this risk is inappreciable, and the consequence is, that most wood engravings are full of black lines, executed with vigour and decision.
I have before me the extremely beautiful engravings of the vases from the collection of Sir Henry Englefield, executed on copper, by Mr. Henry Moses, (published by H. G. Bohn, 1848,) in which nearly all the figures are white on a black ground. The plates show plainly that an engraver on copper aiming at this effect, works at a greater disadvantage than that under which the wood engraver labours in producing black lines.
The cut, Fig. 3, will-show that the engraver has had to obtain his contour by stopping every line of the cross-bar shading, exactly at the right point, a highly artificial process, and the outline thus produced is often imperfect, although where the background is dark, he has been able to assist himself by cutting a strong line round the figure. In Fig. 4, where the light lines lie across a tint, the difficulty has been greater, as the outlines on each side of the lights have the effect of making them appear darker than the surrounding tint. On wood no outline would be needed, and the cutting of the figures or of fine lines on a black or grey ground would be perfectly simple. Fig. 4 is like Fig. 3, an accurate fac-simile [28] of the original copper-plate. Fig. 5 is the same, in which the engraver has availed himself of the facilities offered by the wood-block. The cutting in the little minor and similar parts is much simpler, and the white lines on the grey drapery across the knees of the figure are obtained with perfect facility. They are not good lines in themselves, but are copied exactly from the original. It will appear from this, that on copper, the difficulty is not confined to the execution of fine white lines, but occurs whenever white meets black, however broad the white space may be, while on wood the very slight difficulty above described, applies only to fine outlines, and disappears in the cutting of black objects of any sensible breadth on a white ground, as, for instance, branches and leaves against a bright sky.
In representing a grey tint by means of parallel lines, the two -materials meet on equal terms, and it matters little whether the engraver cuts the white lines or the black, so long as they lie close together, the difference being merely this, that on copper the artist presses lightly for a pale tint, and harder for a dark one, in other words the more he presses, the thicker are his black lines, while on wood by increasing the pressure, the white lines are made wider, and the tint paler.
It appears then, in the cutting of lines and tints, first that copper has a slight advantage over wood in the execution of the fine black lines, second that there is little to choose between the two materials in the cutting of tints, and third that in cutting of white lines or spaces and in all cases where white meets either black or a tint, wood has greatly the advantage over copper. Keeping this in mind, let us consider how these condition will affect an artist in imitating the effects of nature.
The comparative inferiority of quality in the black lines of wood engraving is often urged by etchers as a sufficient reason for placing wood engraving below etching as an art. I contend that this conclusion, based as it is upon a false assumption, falls to the ground on examination, and here we come to the heart of our subject. If we are to assume that the only duty of the wood engraver is to execute fac-similes of drawings made with pen or pencil, then the art· (if it could under such circumstances be called an art) would certainly be inferior to etching. Wood engravers can, no doubt, do wonders in this way, and it would be easy to call to mind works of the kind which would make one unwilling to see the practice wholly abandoned.
If anyone will examine some twenty of Mr. Charles Keene's drawings for Punch (especially those with landscape backgrounds), I think he will be convinced of two things – first, that the artist has an extraordinary power of rendering his effects with a very few lines; and, second, that the engraver has cut the drawings with great skill, preserving much, if not all the vigour of the originals. But there can be no greater mistake than to suppose that fac-similes of pencil drawings are specimens of what can be done in wood engraving as an art proper. In this case the engraver is merely performing the modest but in some cases useful service of imitating the works of another art, and in so doing, is foregoing all the advantages peculiar to his own materials.
Here nature is interpreted by two processes each antagonistic to the other. The artist employs a method consisting wholly of drawing black lines on a white ground, and the engraver copies it by a method consisting wholly of taking whites out of a black ground. That this should be possible proves that wood is a very elastic material, but it is no example of what may be done, and by one man has been done, in wood engraving.
Invert the process, and beginning with a woodcut by one who understood the material, let an etcher try to copy it. What would he make of the egret in Bewick's inimitable [29] " British Birds," giving it line for line as a wood engraver is expected to do when executing a pen-and-ink drawing. With six times the labour he might produce a respectable copy, though I suppose it would be impossible to render some parts literally.
Instead of imposing this ungrateful task on the etcher, let us take our wood-block direct to nature as the etcher does his copper, without allowing any antagonistic interpreter to come between, and examining the capacities of the two materials in this, the only fair way, let us see what will become of the charge, that wood engraving must take the lower place, on the ground that its fine black lines are inferior to those of the etcher, remembering that its white ones are superior.
Where do we find black lines in nature, and why must an art stand or fall by its ability to render such lines? leaving colour out of the question, we find in nature surfaces and tones but no outlines.
What lines do we find in a painting, whether in colour or monochrome, or what artist uses lines where his material does not render it necessary? An outline is, in fac, a purely conventional way of indicating the form of an object, and in all finished work and in all finished work where the artist approaches as near to nature as possible, it is carefully excluded, the objects appearing light on dark or dark on light, as the case may be, so that their forms are shown by the limits of the surfaces, not by any black lines circumscribing them. In etching, or in drawing with pencil or pen and ink, the artist first indicates his forms by means of outlines, and the extent to which he depends on these outlines is determined entirely by the degree of finish he intends to bestow on his work. If it is to be a slight sketch, the outlines are put in vigorously, and remain with perhaps only a few indications of shadow to assist them. But if the work is to be highly finished the outlines are kept faint, and finally lost in the tints or rather tones of which they only represented the limits.
In wood engraving, outlines are only needed in this latter sense, as a guide, and are not wanted as a method of work any more than in a sepia drawing, and we may look in vain through Bewick's "Birds" for an outline, except in the rare case of a white object being seen against a light ground, as, for instance, a bird's white neck against the sky. But if
all the outlines in the book were set together end to end, I doubt if their united length would amount to three inches.
In this respect, wood engraving, dealing as it does with tints, not lines, approaches more nearly to nature than an
art in which lines are the essential principle. It will, of course, be understood that by lines, I mean single detached lines, as distinct from a close series such as employed to give the effect of a tint.
In a later chapter, I propose to examine in detail the technical capabilities of wood, and to inquire into the best means of exploring and developing them. For the present, and until I have offered the reader a sketch of the history of the art, I will content myself with the above brief account of the process, though it may be convenient to call attention to a
certain general advantage, which will be possessed by an art in which lights are taken out of a dark ground, when compared with one which proceeds by the opposite method of drawing black upon white.
[p85] Part Two
Little reflection, or, what is better, a little observation, will show us that nature, as a rule, exhibits objects light on a dark ground. Abundant exceptions will be found, but they are exceptions. The cause of this is sufficiently obvious. Those objects which project most, naturally receive most light, while those which lie deep, will as a rule be in shadow.
I must note here the case of objects seen against the sky, as a very important exception, but nevertheless one which only in rare instances qualifies the general advantage above named. If we look round us at any ordinary scene, we find the foremost trees in a glade standing light against the deeper ones, the most projecting branches of a tree standing light against the inner ones, the most prominent leaves being the brightest of all. In grass, the bright projecting tips of the blades, in architecture, the tracery of shafts of windows seen against the gloom of the interior, present examples of the same general law of light on dark. In painting it is equally easy to paint light on dark, or dark on light; but in engraving, where we must choose one or the other, but cannot have both, it will be evident that that process will oftenest have the advantage in which lights are taken out with the greatest ease, in which the objects are drawn with light instead of being drawn with darkness.
I hope it has been rendered clear, that the process of wood engraving, from the first touch to the last, is absolutely opposed to etching, or drawing on paper with pen or pencil, and that it will not be necessary to go back to first principles to convince the reader that any school of wood engraving must be wrong which does not recognise this fundamental difference, and which accepts as its legitimate field of labour the fac-simile imitation of drawings produced by the other and antagonistic method.
In the ensuing chapter we shall have an opportunity of inquiring to what extent in the past history of the art this all-important principle has been recognised, and it will, I think, be found to have been fully and consistently recognised by one man, and that man was THOMAS BEWICK; which brings us back to the opening statement of this chapter, that the history of wood engraving is a singular one.
Since writing the above, I have read with much pleasure and interest Mr. P. G. Hamerton's comparison between etching and other arts in his " Etching and Etchers," and find that his views correspond precisely with my own. They are forcibly expressed in the following passage :-" So the wood engravers have all along been laboriously cutting out bits of white to make us feel as if they [86] had engraved the black lines, and every hasty scrawl of the draughtsman has had to be cut round by them. Hence wood engraving has not been a genuine art except in a few instances, nor have its natural powers been duly cultivated. It has occupied the position of some man of great natural ability, who has had the misfortune to be bred to a profession for which his faculties were always unsuited, who, by dint of long study and patience, has taught himself to do what was required of him, but who has left his true self uncultivated and unexpressed." From some expressions previously used, it may be thought that I rate wood engraving above etching. To prevent misapprehension, I must remind my readers that I have barely space to exhibit the capacities of the wood-block. Those of copper are well known, and by none more appreciated than by myself. Let those who wish to see them eloquently enlarged on read Mr. Hamerton's work.
There is a disagreeable sameness about the opening sentences of all histories of art. Who could not foresee that the first words of this historical sketch would be '' The origin of wood engraving is enveloped in hopeless obscurity," or "lost in the mists of antiquity," or words to this effect? Let not the reader, however, despair; there are gifted writers who can penetrate these mists. Mr. Joseph Strutt, for instance, published in 1785 "A Biographical Dictionary containing an account of all the engravers from the earliest period of the art of engraving to the present time," and, being a conscientious writer who felt bound to fulfil in his book the promise of his title, he begins thus:-- "There is no art, that of music excepted, which can positively claim a priority to that of wood engraving, and though its inventor cannot be discovered, there is little doubt of its existence long before the flood. ….
The immediate descendants of Tubal Cain may lay a claim to' the invention of the art of engraving, which appears to me to be well founded and certainly prior to any exhibited in profane history, unless the Grecian Vulcan really was, as some have thought, no other than Tubal Cain, distinguished by another name. To what length the exercise of this art was carried by our antediluvian progenitors is totally unknown." This is unfortunate, but so scrupulous a writer is Mr. Strutt, that he proceeds to '' pass over the old Greek and Roman writers concerning the history of these early periods," i.e., when Vulcan was following the profession of engraver, on the ground that ''the facts as related by them are not only exceedingly doubtful in themselves, but convey no certain intelligence." Fortunately we have a less fastidious author to whom in this difficulty we may turn. A work entitled ''Traite historique et pratique de la Gravure en Bois, par M. J. M. Papillon, graveur en bois, et ancien associe de la Societe academique des Arts," opens as follows :-" Chapter l.- On the Origin of Wood Engraving. - Although it seems impossible to say anything very positive concerning the origin of wood engraving, yet we may rest assured that it was the first art which appeared in the world" [he does not except music] ; "for if it is true that the children of Seth engraved on stone and on brick, it may be inferred that before this they had engraved upon wood, since this material is softer than the others, and consequently more likely to have facilitated the invention of engraving."
Since, then, lithography, &c., were practised by the children of Seth, and wood engraving must have preceded these more difficult arts, it becomes logically certain that Seth himself must have been a wood engraver. M. Papillon is doubtful whether Moses and Mercury are identical or two distinct persons, but arguing first on one hypothesis, and then on the other, leads the reader in each case to the same satisfactory conclusion. "These passages of history establish the high and remote antiquity of wood engraving and its use from the earliest ages of the world."
The art, however, would appear to have fallen into disuse for about forty-five centuries, as we meet with no authentic evidence of its existence between the period of these well-founded claims, and the year 1423, the earliest date on any known wood-cut. But here again, if we are to trust M. Papillon, we must believe that engravings on wood were executed more [87] than a century earlier. This writer gives an account, very singular, but very circumstantial, of some wood-cuts he had seen, and which were completed in 1284, or 1285. Unfortunately, the cuts are not forthcoming. M. Papillon is the only authority for their existence, and the story is accepted by some writers, and discredited by others. Here it is put as briefly as possible.
Papillon states that when young he saw, at the house of a Swiss captain in the village of Bagneux, a book consisting of a title-page and eight subjects, with explanatory verses at the foot of each, in Latin, all printed from wood-blocks. The title-page, '' in bad Latin or ancient Gothic Italian," runs as follows :-- “The chivalrous deeds, in figures, of the great and magnanimous Macedonian king, the courageous and valiant Alexander, dedicated, presented, and humbly offered to the most holy father, Pope Honorius IV., the glory and stay of the Church, and to our illustrious and generous father and mother, by us Alexander Alberic Cunio, knight, and Isabella Cunio, twin brother and sister; first reduced, imagined, and attempted to be executed in relief with a little knife, on blocks of wood, joined and smoothed, by this learned and beloved sister, continued and finished together at Ravenna, after eight pictures of our designing, painted six times the size here represented; cut, explained in verse, and thus marked on paper to multiply the number, and to enable us to present them as a token of friendship and affection to our relations and friends. This. was done and finished, the age of each being only sixteen years complete." The subjects are - (1) Alexander on Bucephalus; (Z) Passage of the Granicus; (3) Alexander cutting the Gordian knot; ( 4) Alexander in the tent of Darius; (5) Alexander presenting his mistress, Campaspe, to Apelles, who was painting her; (6) The battle of Arbela; (7) Porus vanquished is brought before Alexander ; (8) Alexander's triumphal entry into Babylon.
To each subject Papillon gives some critical remarks of his own, as to the relative excellence of the designs, and he mentions that in some the white parts the block had not been cut away deep enough, so that it had received some of the ink and left marks on the paper, in consequence of which one of the youthful engravers had written a note in the margin, that the wood must be cut deeper in these parts. Then follows a long history of the Cunio twins, highly romantic and improbable, contained in a manuscript professing to be written by one Turine, not many generations after the events, and to whose grandfather the copy in question had been given by a Count Cunio.
The history relates, among other things, how the gallant young Alberic at the age of fourteen had led a body of twenty-five horse, with which he had routed a body of two hundred, and was knighted for the exploit, and how the twins and Isabella's lover all died young, as was the duty of such prodigies; but I refrain from giving even a summary of the story, because the authenticity of the book seems to be entirely unaffected by that of the romance attached to it.
Those readers who wish to learn more particulars will find the original story in French in the above-named "Traite historique," &c., by Papillon, or literally translated into English at full length in Ottley's voluminous “Inquiry into the Origin and Early History of Engraving on Copper and Wood" (London, 1816, two vols., 4to) ; or, in Italian, in Pietro Zani's '' Materiali per servire alla storia dell' origine, e de' progressi dell' incisione in rame e in legno" (Parma, 1802, 8vo).
This story, as I have said, is variously regarded by different writers. Zani, for instance, accepts it, candidly admitting that as Italy gains credit by it, he may not be an impartial inquirer, and he cannot conceal his satisfaction, when with his mind's ear he hears the howl of outraged German critics at the audacity of an Italian in daring to doubt that Germans were the first wood engravers. The reader will appreciate Zani's candour, and will probably agree with him that Papillon could not have '' dreamt" the ancient book of wood-cuts "non potenclosi credere che quel Professore siasi sognata una tal cosa," but may perhaps demur to his somewhat startling conclusion, that to doubt Papillon's story is to '' deny the existence of light on a fine sunshiny day." [88] Zani, however, took some trouble to sift the matter, and found in the indicated neighbourhood historical evidence of a noble family of the name of Cunio that was in existence in the thirteenth century, and that Alberic was a name which occurred more than once in its annals. Mr. Strutt rejects the tale, but states as his reason that "Papillon gives the story upon the sole evidence of the Swiss officer, and had never seen any part of the engravings. " He must have read the passage very carelessly; it runs thus :-" One afternoon he found me occupied in reading a book, which induced him to show me several very ancient ones which had been lent to him by a Swiss officer, a friend of his, to examine at leisure, and we discussed together the illustrations they contained and the antiquity of wood engraving. The following is the description of these ancient books, just as I wrote it before him." He may have been deceived by a later paragraph-" The death of M. de Greder, which occurred many years ago, prevents my ascertaining now where this book might be seen, so as to render its authenticity evident to the public, and to confirm what I have just written." Baron Heineken is quite incredulous, but having examined Papillon personally, declares himself convinced of his veracity, and that the book must have been a forgery, or of later date than supposed. It must be remembered that Heineken was a German. Ottley accepts the story, and attaches much importance to the local confirmatory facts brought to light by Zani. The most formidable opponent of the account is Mr. Chatto,* [•In his "History of Wood Engraving," illustrated by Mr. Jackson: quite the best English work on the subject.] who treats it with ridicule, but on examination his grounds for doing so do not amount to much. He makes the mistake of confounding the book and the history, as if the fabulous nature of the one affected the genuineness of the other-in my opinion, a perfectly baseless assumption; and he considers the use of the words "pinxit" and "scalpsit" as almost a proof that the book was a forgery, because the custom of so distinguishing the painter and engraver of a design did not obtain earlier than 1590.(?) But it must be remembered that the twins have wished to show in each print what share they had had in the production, the brother having painted and then engraved some himself, while the sister engraved others from the brother’s painting, and as they described all their work in Latin, there seems nothing strange in their having used the most natural words to express their meaning, even though they may not have been habitually so used till a later date.* [*Is not sculpsit the form usually found under engravings, and would not the use of scalpere (which .seems to be the common form in Roman Latin) be evidence rather in favour of the book than otherwise ?] If the work was a forgery, with what object was so much ingenuity expended, as it was never brought before the 'public, and merely by chance £ell into the hands of a boy ?
The date 1284 or 1285 is shown by the dedication to Pope Honorius IV., who reigned those two years only. Of course every fifth form boy knows that there was no later Pope of the name, but if the reader, like the writer, has long past that brief period of omniscience, he can, by referring to a list of Popes, satisfy himself that the difficulty is not to be explained away by assuming that IV. should be V., and that the book is of later date. On the whole, the evidence, limited though it be, seems sufficient to justify further search on the part of those who may have leisure for such inqumes. Readers are referred to the above quoted authorities for further details, and I must proceed to better established facts, my reason for giving so much space to this story being that upon it depends the answer to these two questions: 1, Was wood engraving invented in Italy or in Germany? 2, Was it invented late in the thirteenth or early in the fifteenth century?
[p103] Part Three
HETHER Germany was first in the field or no, of this there is no doubt, that the earliest forthcoming woodcuts are German, and belong to the early part of the fifteenth century. It is also pretty clear that playing-cards were among the first things (probably the first) printed from wood-blocks, and that to these the art may be said to owe its development, if not its origin.
The Church, while fulminating against cards and card-players showed its practical wisdom by enlisting in its own service the new art, and issued prints of saints, the earliest one extant being a St. Christopher, bearing the date 1423, which was found by Baron Heineken pasted inside the right-hand cover of a manuscript in the convent of Buxheim in Suabia, and of which we give a reduction. The critical reader will no doubt think that in his laudable desire to give prominence to the saint, the artist has permitted himself undue latitude in the matter of perspective; but the spirit and vigour of the design will atone for this. The original is 11 inches high by 8 one-eight wide.
The fullest account of the early history of playing-cards, and its connection with wood engraving, is that by Mr. Samuel Weller Singer (London, 1816, 4to), most interestingly illustrated. Zani, the Italian, quotes, as showing the antiquity of playing-cards, an edict of St. Louis on his return from the Holy Land in 1254 forbidding their use, with other documents indicating their existence in Italy in 1299, in Germany in 1300, in Spain 1387, &c., all connected with the prohibition of card-playing, and in particular refers to a certain Fabbro Ferraro in Sienna, who was " castigato da Dio," because he was a "pessimo giuocator di carte," but does not describe what is the nature of the divine chastisement which befell this heinous cardplayer. The only case, however, among these, which gives any clue as to whether the cards were printed or painted by hand, is an account of one Jacquemin Gringonneur, who in 1392 received fifty-nine sous for three packs of cards in gold and colours. The low price would seem to indicate that though the cards may have been coloured and gilt by hand, the outlines must have been printed. The probability is that at first they were altogether done by hand, but that as the demand increased printing was introduced, whether then invented for the purpose, or merely applied. In the existing specimens the outlines were printed, and the colours stencilled in afterwards.
Before the invention of movable type, the printed books were cut entirely in woodblocks, both drawings and text, and are known as block-books. Among the earliest are the " Biblia Pauperum," the " Historia Virginis [106] ex Cantico Canticorum," and the "Apocalypsis, seu Historia Sancti Johannes," all probably earlier than 1500.
The annexed illustration is from the first page of the "Biblia Pauperum." It will be seen that it consists of little more than outline, the shadows being purely conventional. The next cut is from the Canticles, in which the designs show a slight advance in grace, though very little in technical qualities. The groups of female figures in most of the cuts are agreeably conceived, though a certain sameness pervades the series. The passages on the labels in the illustration are in our version rendered:-" I have eaten my honeycomb with my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk.". "Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb; honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments," &c. The separation of the art of wood engraving from that of cutting letters, by the invention of movable type, is too interesting.to be passed [107] over, but is too indirectly connected with our subject to justify more than a very brief notice. Curiously enough, it is the subject of a controversy which, like that raised by the story of the Cunio twins, has lasted to the present time, but I cannot feel that it leaves a similar sense of doubt on the mind.
It may with perfect confidence be stated that printing by means of movable type was invented by Gutenberg at Maintz, about 1540-50, who, in partnership with John Faust, produced the first books printed in this manner. The story of its having been invented by one Laurence Coster of Haarlem, who produced books so printed, which commanded a great sale, and that his types were stolen by a workman who carried them to Gutenberg, rests upon the absolutely unsupported assertion of Hadrian Junius. Not one fragment of evidence is forthcoming that such a printing establishment ever existed, that any book was ever so printed at Haarlem, or that Laurence Coster or any one else ever complained of such a theft.
Though the separation thus established was doubtless instrumental eventually in raising the character of wood engraving as an art, there does not appear to have been much advance till the time of Albert Durer, and even under the influence of this great man the technique of engraving made no important progress. The difference between his wood-cuts and those which preceded them lies in the immense superiority of his designs over those with which earlier wood engravers had had to deal. There is no evidence to show that Durer ever cut a single block himself, and though his drawings, besides being far superior as works of art, were larger in scale and more elaborate in detail than the earlier ones, they made no other demand on the engraver than mechanical precision in cutting away the white portions of the block. Doubtless Durer, by jealously watching this cutting of a block, would bring the mechanical precision [108] to greater perfection, and by employing wood for the reproduction of such splendid imaginative works as his "Apocalypse," "The Two Passions,'' &c., he greatly enhanced the reputation and dignity of the craft, for art it cannot be called while mechanical accuracy is the only quality displayed; but an examination of his engravings on copper executed with his own hand, which remain unsurpassed and well-nigh inimitable at the present day, will leave a feeling of deep regret that where the wood-block was concerned, he was content to leave the execution entirely in the hands of the engraver. His frequent use of cross-hatching is an evidence that Di.irer merely accepted the wood-block as a means of reproducing his pen-and-ink drawings. So far as I have observed, he has not, even for particular effects, made use of the unequalled facility presented by the wood-block for taking out lights, that is to say, for drawing in white.
The accompanying illustration, reproduced full size from one of the cuts in the "Apocalypse," is a fairly typical specimen of Durer's style, as shown in his wood-cuts.
[177] Part Four
ESE brief papers do not attempt to give an account of all the artists who have drawn for wood, and it would answer little purpose to give lists of names; it must, therefore, suffice to mention one or two of the more important.
Lucas Cranach, born 1470, died 1553, a charming painter as well as designer on wood. Hans Burgmair, born at Augsburg about 1473, died 1559, who produced a great many designs for wood, and is chiefly known by his "Triumphs of Maximilian." Hans Schaufflein, born at Nuremberg in 1483, died in 1539, who designed "The Adventures of Sir Theurdank." Lucas Van Leyden, born 1496, died 1593, and others. There is no evidence that any of these engraved their own designs, while there are good grounds for concluding that they did not. Hans Holbein was no exception to this rule, and increased finish and delicacy seem to be all that the art gained under his hands. If here and there we find some indication of objects being cut [178] light against a dark ground, it is something gained, but the instances are too slight and casual to imply the recognition of a principle. Unlike Durer, who was fond of employing wood for large drawings, Holbein's cuts are usually small, sometimes very minute. His most important work is the "Dance of Death," the accompanying examples from which will show that, although the material remains still undeveloped, Holbein's artistic instinct has led him to a style of execution which, so far as it went, was suited to it, and the result is unquestionably interesting. After the time of Holbein, if we except the chiaroscuro engravings of Italy printed in tints from several blocks, some of which possess much beauty, the art seems rather to have declined than advanced. It had never possessed a techuiqne of its own, and while the reproduction of black line drawings was its only recognised function, one in which it was far surpassed by etching, it is hardly strange that artists whose original works on copper are amongst the most precious possessions of the artistic world, should have neglected the comparatively coarse and clumsy material which the wood-block seemed to be, from the then point of view.
Papillon, the French wood engraver, was an enthusiast about his art, and did all in his power by writing and his own labours on the block to magnify it; but his cuts possess little interest, and though it must be admitted that they are above the average excellence of his time, this is but moderate praise.
Through the three centuries and a half which elapsed between the "S. Christopher" and the time when Bewick began his artistic career, there is no sign that any artist who dealt with wood engraving recognised that the process consisted in cutting out lights, and that by confining it to "the imitation of black line drawings, they weighted it hopelessly in its competition with other arts.
If the views already expressed be correct, wood engraving proper commenced only with Thomas Bewick, the work of this remarkable artist being in no sense a development of that of his predecessors, to which it is throughout opposed. And yet, if we say it is opposed, what word shall we find to express the antagonism between Bewick's wood-cuts and the great mass of modern wood engraving so called? The defect in principle was the same then as now, but was exhibited in practice, for the most part, in a negative manner only, whereas now it is developed to the wildest extreme. The early engravers on wood left undone that which they ought to have done; the moderns have, in addition, done much which they ought not to have done. The former left the capacities of wood absolutely undeveloped, but the drawings which they reproduced demanded so little in the way of execution that they cannot be said to have forced the material into an unnatural service; but the latter, by attempting the imitation of sketchy drawings filled with confused cross-hatching, have so alienated the material from its true work that, where Bewick had to explore and discover, we must now revolutionise if we would have a real school of wood engravers. Happily many important exceptions exist to the too generally prevailing modern custom, but they are exceptions, as will presently 'be shown, and their existence forms a curious subject for inquiry.
Accepting as the obvious and unquestionably characteristic peculiarity of the wood-blocks, its unequalled power of giving clearly drawn whites on a dark ground, as contrasted with engraving , on copper, which proceeds by engraving black lines on a white ground, we find, first, that the early engravers ignored [179] this capacity, but attempted such simple work only, that it was always easy to execute, though quite uninteresting when done. ·where they had such designs as those of Durer and Holbein to cut, the result was highly valuable ; but inasmuch as the engraver's work was purely mechanical, and left the resources of his material wholly undeveloped, his craft cannot be called an art. He was sure to lose some of the perfection of the artist's drawing, while he gave in return nothing of his own. Instead of cultivating an art proper, he was imitating another art (that of pen-and-ink drawing) on a material indifferently adapted to the purpose, the sole object being the production of many copies. It is quite dear that it never occurred to either artists or engravers that wood was capable of more than this. Secondly, we find that Bewick discovered the true powers of the wood-block, and gives us for the first time engravings in which white is cut out or black, and where we find no attempt made to force the material into the unnatural imitation of scratchy cross-hatching, or any other mode of execution for which it is unfitted. And thirdly, we find that a great number of modern artists who draw for wood, and engravers who cut the drawings, pass over Bewick's work, and, recurring to the old false and hopeless principle of imitating other and antagonistic arts, aim exclusively at qualities in which wood is infinitely surpassed by etching, and leave untouched those in which etching would be as completely outstripped by wood engraving. If an eagle, whose real powers are shown on the wing, were placed in the charge of some one who confined it in a low cage, where it had room to exhibit its ungainly walk, but could not fly; if it then fell into kinder hands, and for the first time enjoyed free movement in its own element; and if, finally, it were captured by one more perverse than its first possessor, who confined it again, but this time in an enclosed pond, where the poor bird, by force and maltreatment, was compelled to flounder in miserable attempts to imitate the swimming of aquatic birds, the three stages would fairly represent the three periods into which the history of wood engraving may be divided. Compare a modern" fac-simile" woodcut with the true wood engraving of Bewick on the one hand, or with an etching on the other. It is like comparing the eagle floundering in the water with itself in the air, or with the swan on the water. These remarks refer only to “fac-simile" wood-cuts-that is to say, to cuts which follow line for line pencil or pen-and-ink drawings-and the exceptions referred to above include all wood-cuts in which the engraver has followed his own methods, doing that which suits the material, unfettered by forms of execution which belong to another art. So many of these are produced in the present day that it may seem arbitrary to call them exceptions. They are so nevertheless, inasmuch as it will be found that they appear usually where speed or cheapness is a necessity. If a book is to be illustrated in the "best" style, some artist of eminence is invited to make drawings on the blocks, and a skilful engraver carefully cuts round every line of these drawings so as to obtain a fac-simile of the original. If, on the other hand, a large cut has to be produced rapidly, it is common to obtain from the artist a spirited sketch washed in in Indian ink and white, and this is cut in the quickest, and therefore the most direct and the best way, by the engraver. Thus it often happens that the most highly finished illustrations to books are laborious exhibitions of a false method, and some of the best specimens of genuine wood engraving are to be found in the comparatively ephemeral pages of our journals and magazines.
[284] Part Five
It is time to enforce these remarks by some examples, and a comparison of a small piece of Bewick's foliage with corresponding pieces in the fac-simile style may not be uninteresting. Fig. 1 is a portion of the background to "The Hart and the Vine," from Bewick's "AEsop's Fables." Figs. 2 and 3 are from fac-simile cuts of drawings by two artists of deservedly high reputation, who have drawn perhaps more for wood than any others in this country. It can hardly be necessary to say anything as to the respective merits of these three fragments ; and if the reader will remember that in all three the white spaces have been cut away and the blacks left, it will not surprise him to learn that the Bewick actually costs less time to execute than the other two. The time which Bewick spent in cutting his exquisite leaves, grass, umbelliferous plants, &c., is in the others spent in cutting out minute triangles, rhomboids, squares, trapezoids, and all kinds of polygons - these being .the forms of the interstices produced by the-cross-hatching.
In working with the pen, the obvious way of darkening the white ground is by series of lines, and, if the tint thus given must be still further darkened in parts, this is most simply effected by crossing these lines with others-i.e, by cross-hatching; but on wood the engraver starts with pure black, and has nothing whatever to do with modes of darkening. With the pen cross-hatching is a means to an end ; on wood it is by fac-similists regarded as an end in itself, which, being quite unattainable on their material, is to be simulated at great cost of labour by the execution of a sufficient number of small white triangles, rhomboids, &c. &c., so disposed as to present the appearance of cross-hatching. What is there in crosshatching so valuable that we should go out of our way to produce this elaborate and yet clumsy imitation of it? In Washington Irving's "Knickerbocker," the Dutchman, landing on a low swampy shore, remarks to his companions what a beautiful place it is for making dams and dykes. The cross-hatchers on wood go further; they make imitation dams and dykes on dry land rather than go without them. On the whole, no simpler and truer test than this can be offered for distinguishing wood engraving proper from imitations on wood of something else. No wood engraver in his senses, unless fettered by the necessity of imitating another art, would express a tint by the cutting out small white triangles, rhomboids, &c. &c., with the. childish object of making the result resemble cross-hatching. Let the reader remember, therefore, at what time he sees the cutting of small triangles, rhomboids, squares, trapezoids, and all kinds of polygons, not to fall down and worship, for it is a false image that has been set up. I hope we may here write Q.E.D., and, having cleared away this cross-bar work in which the engravers had imprisoned us, we can now get at nature, and see what can be done with white lines and spaces cut on a black ground. This lovely drawing of the yellow-hammer is a copy from Bewick, and, thanks to the skill of the engraver, is no whit inferior to the original. Examine this carefully, and see how nature is here immediately interpreted [285] on the wood-block, and what astonishing capacities the material possesses for the purpose, so soon as the artist abandons the imitation of black-netting and gives himself a chance of imitating natural objects, whether these be birds, feathers, twisted fences, branches with their delicate foliage, weeds, or grasses. These are all here to the life, and withal a general silvery effect delightful to look on. As a contrast to this drawing we give one of Bewick's tail-pieces, also from the "Birds "-two horses standing in a field in the rain. Here he has, with singular felicity, conveyed the misty effect of the rain by cutting the tint right across the block, expressing the various depths of tone only by the varying thickness of the lines, so that the objects seem to have no defined outline. As a method this has become common recently. It has been much used by French wood engravers, especially in the cutting of many of Dore's drawings, and often where there seems no particular reason for its adoption, unless that it offers an easy mode of cutting a sketchy drawing washed in in water-colour. But in Bewick's time I do not suppose such a thing had been tried, and here it is no question of sketchy drawing, the indistinct outlines have a meaning, and, if we look carefully, we find an amazing amount of detail included in what seems at first to be a nearly flat tint. The body of the windmill is scarcely visible, and yet light and shade on it can be detected; the sails present their surfaces at different angles to the light, and differ in depth accordingly. If I mistake not, the small revolving vanes which cause the top of the mill to turn with the wind are just discernible between the two upper sails. The drawing of the two horses is full of character, and in the gate we detect the diagonal bar and the bent upright to which it is attached. Tints are often cut now consisting of finer and more regular lines than Bewick seems to have attempted, but it would hardly be possible to express a subtle natural effect with greater delicacy than Bewick has done in this instance by means of simple tint cutting.
If these examples have interested the reader in their gifted author, it may be convenient here to say a few words about Bewick's career, but space will allow only a very few. Thomas Bewick was burn in August, 1753, at Cherryburn-on-the-Tyne, near Newcastle; It is said that he sometimes as a boy worked in a coal-pit rented by his father. He was sent to school to the Rev .Mr.Gregson's, at Ovingham, on the north side of the river-Cherryburn being on the south - in the neighbourhood of which school may be found many scenes which Bewick has introduced into his drawings. In the year 1767 he was apprenticed for a term of seven years to Mr. Ralph Beilby, an engraver, but one whose work was not exclusively artistic, as it included the engraving of names on brass plates for front doors, of numerals on brass clock-faces, &c. Bewick's first attempts on wood were the illustrations to a work on mensuration, about 1768, when he was fifteen years old: When he returned to Cherryburn, on the expiration of his appren-[286] ticeship, he began to devote himself to wood engraving, and in 1775 he executed a small cut of "The Huntsman and the Old Hound," for which he obtained a prize of seven guineas from the Society of Arts. In 1776 he visited the Lake district of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and in October of the same year went to London, where he stayed about a year; but with regard to his occupations during that year he always maintained a certain mystery. Whatever he may have done in London, he did not like living there, and declared he would not live in London, although for doing so he were made premier of England. Any one familiar with Bewick's works, and the evident delight in the country which they evince, will easily believe in the genuineness of this sentiment. Returning to Newcastle in 1777, Bewick and Beilby entered into partnership, and took John, the younger brother of the former, as an apprentice. In 1779 Bewick executed the cuts for an edition of Gay's " Fables," and in 1784, for one of "Select Fables." In the latter he began to show his originality by the simple and direct way in which he obtained his effects, but the cuts are hardly comparable to his later work. In 1789 he engraved "The Chillingham Bull," one of' his largest cuts, a fine and spirited work, in which his characteristic excellences appear in a in a very marked degree. He never perhaps surpassed the drawing of the grasses and weeds in the foreground ground, and the foliage is excellent, though not equal to that of the later "Fables" (1818) or of the "Birds." The chief superiority of the later works consists in their greater refinement and delicacy of execution. The principle is clearly established in this Bull of cutting out lights so as best to express that which he is representing, without any foolish attempt to make it look as if it had been executed in another material. After taking six impressions, the block warped and split, owing to some careless workman having left it on a window-sill in the sun, and it remained useless till recently, when it was clamped together in a frame of gun-[287]metal for Mr. Robinson, of Newcastle, who had some fine proofs struck off, one of which I obtained from him. The split shows slightly as a white line across the bull. Bewick's next work was his "General History of Quadrupeds," which appeared in 1790, and was a great success. A second and a third edition appeared in the two succeeding years. In 1795 was published a quarto volume, consisting of a few selected poems by Goldsmith, Parneli, and Somerville, illustrated by cuts, all of which are by Thomas Bewick, except those in the " Deserted Village," which are by his brother John.
All the blocks of this book are in the possession of Mr. Robinson, of Newcastle, a great collector of Bewick's work, who was kind enough to show them to me, and thus I was enabled, by comparing each block with the proof, to see how certain effects were obtained, and especially to how great an extent Bewick sometimes lowered the surface by scraping it down before he engraved, so as to make the lowered part print lighter in colour from its being more lightly pressed upon the paper. On page 286 is a fac-simile· of the first cut in Parnell's " Hermit," executed by Bewick from a drawing by J. Johnson, in which the reader will perceive some foliage which can hardly be excelled for delicacy. Take the bank of grass and weeds in the left-hand corner, the ferns and wild rose above it, the grass in half tone under the hermit's seat, or the bramble overhanging the rock in the upper right-hand corner. What can be more perfect than these passages?
We seem to see the leaves themselves, and hardly miss the colours. But if the beauty of the actual result is very striking, surely the simplicity of the means by which it is obtained is hardly less so. It is scarcely necessary to point out, what must be evident at a glance, that each leaf is cut out of the block in the most direct manner, and I think it will be felt that the peculiar charm of this work is not to be imitated in any other material. If the black had to be filled in and the white left, many parts would be impossible, and none could be even approximately rendered except at a far greater expenditure of labour. Other advantages may be claimed by the etcher, and it will not be questioned that certain inimitable beauties belong to copper, and copper only; but this of cutting lights of unequalled delicacy out of dark grounds, a power of such infinite value in representing foliage, belongs to wood, and to wood only. It is a matter of wonder that this was not discovered before Bewick’s time, but it is something more than wonderful that, when the discovery was once made, wood engravers should ignore it and go on executing cross-hatched lines, as though everything in nature consisted of fishing-nets and cobwebs. The rocks in this drawing are not particularly interesting, and it must be remembered that the design was not his own, though, for reasons to be given presently, I think we may fairly ascribe the beauty of detail to Bewick rather than to Johnson.
To go on with the brief memoir. In 1797 appeared the first volume of the famous [287] " Birds," and the second in 1804. This must be considered as the greatest of Bewick's many and admirable works. To those who have not examined the work itself, the specimens already given, namely, "The Egret" at the commencement of this essay, "The Yellow-hammer," and the tail-piece of the two horses in the rain, will give a fair idea of the extreme beauty of the execution.
To these I now add "The Owl" (page 287), as a contrast to all three. In "The Egret," the manner in which the graceful form of the bird, with its snow-white plumage, is relieved against the deep shade of the foliage overhanging the pool, forms the most striking feature in the drawing. In "The Yellow-hammer," the eye is chiefly caught by the bright, fresh, crisp character of the whole (I am not now speaking of the truth of detail, which is so abundant in all the drawings), while in "The Owl" the manner in which the soft downy texture of the bird is conveyed is truly wonderful. The coarseness of the bark of the tree may be exaggerated, but at any rate it has the effect of enhancing the marvellous softness of the bird's plumage.
Before leaving "The Birds," I give one more of the tail-pieces; which contrasts well with that of the "Rainy Day." In his representations of the sea, Bewick's execution was often coarse, but they were always full of life, and here there is no lack of delicacy. In 1818 Bewick published his" Aesop’s Fables," from which is taken the piece of foliage at the beginning of this chapter. I have no space for any other specimens from this charming work, and must content myself with saying that, if Mr. Chatto is right in supposing that the cuts are mostly engraved by Bewick's pupils, W. Temple and William Harvey, it shows how completely he had imbued them with his own spirit.
[In original on p. 286]
[In the original on p 287]