Thomas Bewick, the founder of the modern art, was born near Newcastle

in 1753. He passed his boyhood in rude country life and received scanty

schooling. At fourteen he was bound apprentice to the Newcastle

engraver, Ralph Beilby; nine years later he went to seek his fortune in

London, where he impatiently endured city life for less than a year; in

the summer of 1777 he returned to his old master, with whom he went into

partnership. Some preliminary training in book-illustration of the rude

sort then in vogue was necessary to reveal his powers to himself; he

received a premium from the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, which

had shown some interest in wood-engraving; and after farther minor work

he began, in 1785, to engrave the first block for his British

Quadrupeds, which, with his British Birds, although his other cuts are

numbered by thousands, is the principal monument of his genius. When he

took the graver in his hand he found the art extinct as a fine art; at

most only large coarse prints were manufactured. Besides his great

service to the art in introducing the white line he substituted boxwood

for the pear or other soft wood of the earlier blocks, and he engraved

across the grain instead of with it, or “the plank way of the wood,” as

he called it; he also began the practice of lowering the surface of the

block in places where less color was desired, so that less pressure

would come upon those parts in printing (a device which Aldegrever is

believed to have resorted to in some of his works), and he used the

dabber instead of the inking-roller.

[Illustration: Fig. 61.--The Peacock. From Bewick’s “British Birds.”]

[Illustration: FIG. 62.--The Frightened Mother. From Bewick’s “British

Quadrupeds.”]

[Illustration: FIG. 63.--The Solitary Cormorant. From Bewick’s “British

Birds.”]

[Illustration: FIG. 64.--The Snow Cottage.]

[Illustration: FIG. 65.--Birth-place of Bewick. His last vignette,

portraying his own funeral.]

By such means he was truly, as Ruskin says, “a reformer”--Ruskin adds,

“as stout as Holbein, or Botticelli, or Luther, or Savonarola,” and this

is also true within limits. But if in relation to his art, and in answer

to the tests required of him, his reforming spirit proved itself

vigorous, independent, persistent in conviction, and faithful in

practice, his natural endowment in other ways was so far inferior to

those of the great Reformers named as to place him in a different order

of men. He had not a spark of the philosophic spirit of Holbein, and but

a faint glimmer of Holbein’s dramatic insight. He was not endowed with

the romantic imagination, the deep reflective power, the broad

intellectual and moral sympathy of Dürer. There is no need to magnify

his genius, for it was great and valuable by its own right. He was,

primarily, an observer of nature, and he copied natural facts with

straightforward veracity; he delineated animal life with marvellous

spirit; he knew the value of the texture of a bird’s feather (Fig. 61)

as no one before ever realized it. He was open also to the influence

which nature exerts over the emotions, and he rendered the sentiment of

the landscape as few engravers have been able to do. His hearty spirit

responded to country sights (Fig. 62), and he portrayed the humorous

with zest and pleasure, as well as the cheerful and the melancholy with

truth and feeling; his humor is sometimes indelicate, but it is

faithful; usually it is the humor of a situation which strikes him,

seldom the higher humor which appears in such cuts as the superstitious

dog. He is open to pathos, too, but here it is not the higher order of

pathos far-reaching into the bases of life and emotion--in this cut

(Fig. 64), for example, one fancies his heart is nearly altogether with

the uncared-for animal, and takes not much thought of the deserted

hearth. With this veracity, sensitiveness, heartiness, there is also an

unbending virtue--a little like preaching sometimes, with its gallows in

the background--but sturdy and homely; not rising into any eloquent

homily, but with indignation for the boys drowning a cat or the man

beating his overdriven horse.

As an artist he knows, like Holbein, the method of great art. His

economy of labor, his simplicity, justness, and sureness of stroke show

the master’s hand. There was no waste in his work, no ineffective effort

after impossible results, no meaningless lines. For these excellences of

method and of character he has been often praised, especially because he

developed his talents under very unfavorable conditions; but perhaps no

words would have been sweeter to him than those which Charlotte Brontë

wrote, sincerely out of her own experience without doubt, for he himself

said he was led to his task by “the hope of administering to the

pleasure and amusement of youth.” Charlotte Brontë, speaking through the

lips of Jane Eyre of the pleasure she took as a child in looking through

Bewick’s books, writes thus:

“I returned to my book--Bewick’s History of British Birds, the

letterpress whereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet

there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not

pass quite as a blank: they were those which treat of the haunts of

sea-fowl; of ‘the solitary rocks and promontories’ by them only

inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern

extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape--

‘Where the Northern Ocean, in vast whirls,

Boils round the naked, melancholy isles

Of farthest Thule, and the Atlantic surge

Pours in among the stormy Hebrides.’

[Illustration: FIG. 66.--The Broken Boat. From Bewick’s “British

Birds.“]

[Illustration: FIG. 67.--The Church-yard. From Bewick’s “British

Birds.“]

Nor could I pass unnoticed the suggestion of the black shores of

Lapland, Siberia, Spitzbergen, Nova Zembla, Iceland, Greenland. * * * Of

these death-white realms I formed an idea of my own--shadowy, like all

the half-comprehended notions that float dim through children’s brains,

but strangely impressive. The words in these introductory pages

connected themselves with the succeeding vignettes, and gave

significance to the rock standing up alone in a sea of billow and spray;

to the broken boat (Fig. 66) stranded on a desolate coast; to the cold

and ghastly moon glancing through bars of cloud at a wreck just sinking.

I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quiet, solitary church-yard

(Fig. 67), with its inscribed head-stone, its gate, its two trees, its

low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly risen crescent

attesting the hour of even-tide. The two ships becalmed on a torpid sea

I believed to be marine phantoms. The fiend pinning down the thief’s

pack behind him I passed over quickly: it was an object of terror. So

was the black, horned thing, seated aloof on a rock, surveying a distant

crowd surrounding a gallows. Each picture told a story--mysterious often

to my undeveloped understanding and imperfect feelings, yet ever

profoundly interesting. * * * With Bewick on my knee, I was then happy;

happy at least in my way.”

Bewick published the first edition of the British Quadrupeds in 1790,

the first edition of the first volume of the British Birds in 1797, and

of the second volume in 1804; all these became popular, and were several

times republished with additional cuts. His other works were very

numerous, but, as a whole, they are of inferior value. Both in the

volumes which have been mentioned and in his later work he received much

aid from his pupils, who designed and engraved, subject to his

correction and approval, many illustrations which are ascribed to him.

In his own work, notwithstanding his great excellence, he was by no

means perfect. In delineating rocks and the bark of trees, especially,

he fails; in drawing he sometimes makes errors, particularly when what

he represents was not subject to direct and frequent observation; in the

knowledge of line-arrangement, too, he is less masterly than some of his

successors, and, in this respect, his work is characterized by

effectiveness and spirit rather than by finish. Yet, when these

deductions have been made from his merit, so much remains as to render

him, without doubt, the most distinguished modern engraver in wood.

[Illustration: FIG. 68.--The Sheep-fold. By Blake. From Virgil’s

Pastorals.]

[Illustration: FIG. 69.--The Mark of Storm. By Blake. From Virgil’s

Pastorals.]

Before Bewick’s death, in 1828, another English genius, William Blake

(1758-1827), greater as an artist than as an engraver, produced a series

of woodcuts (Fig. 68) which is remarkable for vigor and originality.

They were published in a reprint of Ambrose Philips’s Imitation of

Virgil’s First Eclogue, in Dr. Thornton’s curious edition of Virgil’s

Pastorals which appeared in 1820. One of them (Fig. 69) represents a

landscape swept by violent wind. The idea of autumnal tempest has seldom

been so strikingly and forcibly embodied as in the old gnarled oak

straining with laboring limbs, the hedge-rows blown like

indistinguishable glimmering dust, the keen light of the crescent moon

shining through the driving storm upon the rows of laid corn and over

the verge of the distant hill. Contemporary engravers said the series

was inartistic and worthless, and an uneducated eye can easily discover

faults in it; imaginative genius of the highest order is expressed in

it, nevertheless, and from this the series derives its value. Blake

never made a new trial of the art.

The revival of wood-engraving was not confined to England. At the end of

the eighteenth century Prussia founded a chair at Berlin for teaching

the art, and made the Ungers, father and son, professors of it; but,

although they contributed to the progress of wood-engraving in Germany,

no real success was obtained until the time of their successor, Gubitz.

In France, too, the Society for the Encouragement of National Industry

began to offer prizes for the best wood-engraving as early as 1805; but

some years passed before any contestants, who practised the true art,

appeared. The publisher Didot deserves much of the credit for reviving

French wood-engraving, because he employed Gubitz, and called to Paris

the English engravers who really founded the modern French school. The

efforts of societies or individuals, however, do not explain the rise of

the art in our time. Wood-engraving merely shared in the renewal of life

which took place at the end of the last century, and so profoundly

affected literature, art, and politics. The barren classical taste

disappeared in what is known as the return to nature, the intellectual

life of the people was stimulated to extraordinary activity,

civilization suffered rapid and important modifications, and every human

pursuit and interest received an impulse or a blow. Wood-engraving felt

the influence of the change, and came into demand with the other cheap

pictorial arts to satisfy popular needs; the interest of the publishers,

the improvements in the processes of printing, and the example of

Bewick and his pupils especially contributed to bring the old art again

into use, and it continued to be practised because its value in

democratic civilization was immediately recognized.

[Illustration: FIG. 70.--The Cave of Despair. By Branston. From Savage’s

“Hints on Decorative Printing.”]

England was naturally the country where wood-engraving most flourished.

The pupils of Bewick, particularly Charlton Nesbit and Luke Clennell,

practised it with great merit, the former with a better knowledge of

line-arrangement than Bewick, and the latter with extraordinary artistic

feeling. The field, however, was not left wholly to those who had

learned the art from Bewick. Robert Branston was, like Bewick, a

self-taught wood-engraver; unlike Bewick, who was never trammelled by

traditions, and was thus able to work out his own methods in his own way

by the light of his own genius, Branston (Fig. 70), who had served an

apprenticeship in engraving on copperplate, and had mastered the art of

incising and arranging lines proper to that material, came to

wood-engraving with all the traditions of copperplate-engraving firmly

fixed in his mind and hand, and he founded a school which began where

the art had left off at the time of its decline--in the imitation of the

methods of engraving on copper. It is true that Branston sometimes

admitted white line where he thought it would be effective, but he

relied on black line for the most part. The wrong step thus taken led to

the next. Engravers on copper began to draw designs on the block for

wood-engravers to cut out. John Thurston, the most distinguished of

these, drew thus for John Thompson, who, however, did not follow the

lines with the servility of the engravers of the sixteenth century, but

modified them as he engraved, changed the direction and character of the

lines, and occasionally introduced white line. In the same way

Clennell, who also engraved after John Thurston’s drawing, modified it,

particularly in the disposal of the lights and shadows, and thus

improved it by his own artistic powers. Merely in engraving simple lines

Clennell’s artistic feeling placed him in a higher rank than even an

engraver of the power of John Thompson, as may be seen in the cuts which

these two men made after Stothard’s drawings in an edition of Rogers’s

Poems (Fig. 71, 72); in this volume Clennell has given an effect which

Thompson could not give. Branston’s engraving, in the same way, shows

the craftsman’s skill and knowledge, but it lacks the artistic quality

of the rival school of Nesbit and Clennell. The imitation of the manner

of copperplate, which Branston introduced, became common, and was

developed in the work of Orrin Smith and William Harvey, in which

wood-engraving lost its distinctive virtues. This school, nevertheless,

was popular, and its engravings were used to illustrate important works

to which for a long time copperplate-engraving alone had been considered

equal; thus wood-engraving once more encroached upon its rival’s ground.

[Illustration: FIG. 71.--Vignette from “Rogers’s Poems.” London, 1827.]

[Illustration: FIG. 72.--Vignette from “Rogers’s Poems.” London, 1827.]

Meanwhile the great illustrated magazines and papers, to which

wood-engraving owes so much of its encouragement, sprang up, and with

them the necessity for rapid work, and the temptation to be satisfied

with what satisfied the public taste. Cruikshank and Seymour prepared

the way for the designers, Leech, Gilbert, Tenniel, and the Dalziels,

the latter engravers themselves, and carelessness in engraving

accompanied carelessness in drawing; but from the latter charge

Tenniel’s designs must be excepted. These artists were inferior in

natural endowment to even the lesser artists of the sixteenth century,

and their work was made worse by the negligent rendering of their

engravers, who were not characterized either by the fidelity of the old

craftsmen, or the skill and knowledge of Thompson, or the artistic sense

of Clennell, but were merely inefficient workmen employed to cut lines

drawn for them as rapidly as possible. Mr. Linton made an attempt to

introduce the practice of rendering artists’ drawings by lines conceived

and arranged by the engraver himself; but the current was too strongly

set in another direction, and the engraver kept his old position of

mechanic employed to clear out the designers’ lines. The work which was

produced by this method in great quantities was in the mass not valuable

either for the art shown in the design or for the skill of the engraver,

but derived its interest and popularity from qualities which have little

connection with fine art. No great works were produced; and it is only

here and there that separate prints of value are to be found, among

which those by Edmund Evans in Birket Foster’s edition of Cowper’s Task

deserve to be mentioned.

[Illustration: FIG. 73.--Death as a Friend.]

Upon the Continent the development of wood-engraving was by no means so

great as in England, but some excellent work has been done by the pupils

of Thompson, who went to Paris by Didot’s invitation; these men, of

whom MM. Best and Leloir were the most distinguished, together with MM.

Brevière, Porret, and Lavoignat, produced some cuts of considerable

value both in book-illustration and in the art magazines. In Germany,

too, wood-engraving counts some good workmen among its following, but

the German woodcuts, of which the two (Figs. 73, 74) here given are

favorable examples, remain inferior for the most part to either the

English or French.

[Illustration: FIG. 74.--Death as a Throttler.]

Wood-engraving, however, has been practised in our time less as a fine

art than as a useful art; and if little that is valuable for artistic

worth has been executed by engravers since the days of Nesbit, Clennell,

and Thompson, the application of wood-engraving for merely useful

purposes has been of the greatest service. It has become a most

powerful instrument of popular education; it imparts the largest share

of the visual knowledge which the people have of the things they have

not directly seen; its utility as a means of instruction by its

representation of the objects with which science deals, and the

mechanical contrivances and processes which science employs, and also as

a means of influence in caricature and of simple popular amusement, is

incalculable; and, notwithstanding its low level in art, there can be no

doubt that it frequently assists the exercise of the popular

imagination, and sometimes generates in the better-endowed minds among

the people a real sympathy with the higher products of art and an

appreciation of them. These utilities, indeed, so overbalance its value

simply as a fine art as to give it a distinctive character, when its

practice now is compared with that of any previous time; as, formerly,

it reflected the aspects of changing civilization, now it reflects the

peculiar character of our time, and shows how great has been the gain in

the popular hold upon the material comforts of life and upon

intelligence, and how great has been the loss in the community’s

appreciation of purely artistic results. This is especially true of the

earlier American practice of the art, which seldom resulted in any work

of artistic value.

[Illustration: FIG. 75.--The Creation. Engraved by J. F. Adams.]

[Illustration: FIG. 76.--The Deluge. Engraved by J. F. Adams.]

The history of wood-engraving in America, until recent years, is

comparatively insignificant. In art, as in literature, the first

generation of the Republic followed the English tradition almost

slavishly; the engravers, indeed, showed hardly any individuality, and

left no work of permanent value. During Colonial times some very rude

apprentice-work on metal had been produced; but the first certain

engraving in wood bears date of 1794, and was from the hand of Dr.

Alexander Anderson (1775-1870), a physician by profession, but with a

natural bent toward the art, which he had played at from boyhood, and

finally made the principal business of his life. The sight of some of

Bewick’s early work had determined him to employ wood as a material in

place of the type-metal on which he had previously engraved in relief,

and the example of Bewick taught him to use white line. At that time,

and for many years afterward, the art was applied mainly to the

production of cuts for advertisements, labels, and the like, as a

servant of trade; its use for illustration simply was confined almost

wholly to juvenile books. The engravers who at the beginning of the

century introduced the art in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore,

and New Haven were few, and, for the most part, self-taught; usually

they merely copied English cuts, and thus they reflected in their

poorer work the manner of successive English schools; but at least they

kept the art alive, and handed it on through their pupils. Dr. Anderson

was the best of them; yet, although he was free and bold in his handling

of white line, and once or twice attained an excellence that proved him

a worthy pupil of Bewick, he left nothing of enduring interest, and the

work of his fellows met with even swifter forgetfulness. Woodcuts of

really high value were not produced in America until Joseph Alexander

Adams (b. 1803), one of the young engravers encouraged by Dr. Anderson,

began to do his best work (Figs. 75, 76), about 1834, and applied his

talents to the illustration of the Bible, published by the Harper

Brothers in 1843, with which wood-engraving may be properly said to have

begun its great career in this country. This volume was embellished by

sixteen hundred cuts, executed under the supervision of Mr. Adams, and

plainly exhibits the capacities and limitations of the art at that time.

Other illustrated books followed this from the same press, and from that

of the Putnams; the cuts in the papers and magazines, established during

the second quarter of the century, became more numerous, and the

attention paid by the American Tract Society to the engravings in its

various publications had great influence in encouraging and improving

the art. The work of this first half-century, however, as a whole, does

not deserve any great praise; in judging it, the inexperience of the

engravers and the difficulties of printing must be remembered; but in

its inferior portions it is marked by feebleness and coarseness, and in

its better portion by a hardness and stiffness of line, a lack of

variety and gradation in tone and tint, and a defect in vivacity and

finish. There are here and there exceptional cuts to which these

strictures would not apply, but the body of the work is vitiated either

through an incomplete control of his materials by the engraver, or

through an evil imitation of copperplate-drawing by the designer. Where

the engraver was also the designer the work is usually of higher value.

[Illustration: FIG. 77.--Butterflies. Engraved by F. S. King.]

With the second half of the century began that expansion of the press,

that increase in the volume and improvement in the quality of the

reading provided for the public through newspapers and magazines, which

has been one of the most striking and important results of democratic

institutions. The Harpers’ Monthly Magazine was established in 1850, and

it was followed within a decade by several illustrated periodicals;

during the civil war there was naturally a slackening in this

development, but, upon its close, numerous new illustrated weekly or

monthly publications began their longer or shorter career, among them

those issued by the Scribners, which were to have so important a bearing

on the history of wood-engraving. The art naturally received a great

impetus from this demand upon its resources; it rapidly advanced; and

being encouraged farther by the popularity of the new and beautifully

illustrated gift-books of the Boston and New York publishers, it has

taken the leading place in the artistic interests of the country.

[Illustration: FIG. 78.--Engraved by F. S. King.]

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