ORIGINAL DRAWING BY W. WESTALL
FROM ‘NORTHCOTE’S FABLES,’ 1828, DRAWN BY HARVEY, ENGRAVED BY JACKSON
ORIGINAL DRAWING BY BARTOLOZZI
ORIGINAL DRAWING BY COURBOULD
But, with the appearance in Germany, in 1840, of Menzel’s ‘Geschichte Friedrichs des Grossen,’ and its appropriation in 1845, by the ingenious Mr. Bohn—I wonder what he paid for the blocks—a new era dawned in England. And just one word about this book. It contains 500 illustrations by Adolf Menzel, and, says the advertisement, ‘in the execution of the cuts both French and British artists (engravers) have been engaged.’ But it so happened that they were all discarded by the artist for German engravers whom he himself trained. The 500 illustrations were drawn by Adolf Menzel on the wood, and his trials and tribulations are well known to all who have studied the history of illustration. Five hundred drawings in one book, all done on little wood blocks. Why, even this is enough to ruin anybody in our day, when it is an honour to be devoid of technical ability and physical capacity for work. But then we live in a time when incompetence, laziness and anæmic imbecility are, in this country indispensible credentials to fame. ¶ This book of Menzel’s, which has never been surpassed as an example of reproductive wood engraving, was seen by the Dalziels and shown to, at any rate, Keene, Rossetti, Sir John Gilbert and, most likely, Millais. If some of the lesser but more precious illustrators then at work refused to look at it—well, the loss was their own, and it is probably one of the reasons why so little afterwards was ever heard of them. ¶ Some ten years later, in France, where ever since the thirties the romanticists had been illustrating, notably Curmer’s edition of ‘Paul et Virginie’ (1838), while Jean Gigoux in his ‘Gil Blas’ (1836) had made an everlasting reputation, there appeared Meissonier’s edition of the ‘Contes Rémois’ (1858), by which, and not by his sensational dealings in paint with millionaires, his name will be remembered. And then England woke up again. The first English book which shows any evidence of a revival in art, an attempt to escape from the be-Knighted, be-illustrated traditions, was William Allinham’s ‘Music Master,’ which contains nine illustrations: seven by Arthur Hughes, one by Rossetti—The Maids of Elfen Mere, which appears really to have made a sensation—and one by Millais. It was published in 1855. The English edition of Menzel’s ‘Fredrick’ came out in 1845. ¶ It should not be forgotten that there had been a strong saving remnant all along from the time of Bewick. Northcote’s ‘Fables’ appeared in 1828, ‘embellished’ by 280 drawings, ascribed by Northcote, but really by Harvey, ‘most excellently drawn on the wood and prepared for the engraver by Mr. William Harvey, and improved by his skill’—even Northcote himself admitted this in one edition. The ‘Voyage of Columbus,’ undated and unsigned, illustrated by Stothard, was possibly still earlier. Then there was the ‘Solace of Song’ (1837); there was Lane’s memorable edition of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ illustrated also by Harvey (1839); and there were certain other volumes; but one is not now making a bibliography. However, it was with the ‘Music Master’ (1855) that the great change came. ¶ In 1857 Moxon issued his edition of Tennyson, the only book which is well known. It is extraordionary how little good work there is in it, but this little is of the utmost importance, for it includes the monumental Rossettis and Holman Hunts, and a few beautiful Millais. Even more extraordinary is the proof given not long ago of the public’s indifference to great illustration, for when, recently, just these few fine illustrations, together with the poems to which they refer, were reprinted, accompanied not only by the artists’ original studies for them, but by a most interesting essay by Mr. Holman Hunt, one of the illustrators, this new edition fell perfectly flat. This is not very creditable to the intelligence of the British collector, but it is a fact.[101] ¶ By 1859, the movement, with the starting of Once a Week, got into full swing, and we are in the golden age of illustration, the most striking, the most original phase of British art. From this time onward, for ten years, the publishers of this country issued a series of books and magazines that have never been approached, and when the present tendencies in art are considered, it is fairly safe to add will never again be approached in England. Then, artists sought to put the best of themselves into illustration on the wood block. Then, engravers endeavoured to engrave these illustrations as well as they possibly could, and though all of us have been forced regretfully to admit that the methods were abominable, the drawing being cut all to pieces before it could be printed, and the artist having no redress, the published results were often astonishingly good. Then the printer took a pride in doing his work as well as he knew how. And though it might be, and often was, bad, it was the best of which he was capable, and it was frequently much better than what is done to-day. Then, the publisher regarded himself as a shopkeeper, whose business was merely to put his name on the books and to sell them, and he was content to do this and nothing more. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he failed. Now, not only does he sit at the receipt of custom, but he dominates the whole. He tells you what the public wants according to his ideas, and the length of his purse, and his travellers’ opinions. And as in nine cases out of ten, despite these authorities, he is supremely ignorant of the work which he farms out, and as cheapness and vulgarity are his only gods, and as paper has come down and process has come in, it is not surprising that English book-illustration should be just where it is to-day. There are, of course, exceptions to this rule among the publishers. They are few, indeed. But they know their position, and it would be discouraging to the rest to name them. ¶ But, the collector may ask, what in all this defence of book-illustration is there for me? As I have pointed out, the illustrations, at any rate up to 1865, were all drawn on the wood block, and were all cut to pieces in the engraving. There remain, therefore, only a very few and rare originals that for some reason or other were not engraved. There also remain in many cases studies for these illustrations. For example, the British museum has been lately showing an illustration, so-called, by Sir J. E. Millais, for his ‘Parables,’ published first in Good Words, and then in a separate volume by the Dalziels (1864). This is not the illustration really, but a study for it. It may safely be assumed that no original drawings for book-illustration prior to 1865 exist, unless they are simply drawings made on the wood for a book and never engraved, when they are not book-illustrations at all—that is, illustrations which have been used in a book—or unless they are drawings of some sort made for the steel-engraver or the lithographer, which were copied or translated by the engraver. For example, Turner’s illustrations to Rogers’ ‘Poems’ exist as most commonplace water-colours in the cellars of the National gallery. Turner and Goodall between them made a great work of art out of the ‘Datur Hora Quieti,’ but there is no original of this at all save the trifling water-colour suggestion. Some of the artists, however, were in the habit of making studies in pen-and-ink, or wash, or pencil, on paper, of the exact size of the future engraving, and containing all the details of the design, which was afterwards redrawn on the wood block. Mr. Sandys did this in very many cases, and in some he even made large versions of the drawings, especially for the ‘Amor Mundi,’ which is owned by Lord Battersea. In his case, too, one or two of his drawings, I know, never were engraved. One which I owned, and which is now in the Adelaide museum, Australia, The Spirit of the Storm, was unfinished, and a second, done for Good Words or Once a Week, for years kicked round in a drawer in the office of Swain, the engraver, until I found it, when it was engraved and published in The Hobby Horse; the reason for this long neglect being that it had been considered too strong by the prurient-minded publisher of that time.
PLATE III