DRAWN BY S. PALMER, ENGRAVED BY W. T. GREEN, FROM ‘SACRED ALLEGORIES,’ 1856

After about 1865, or rather before, for the books were published in that year, some of the drawings for the illustrated editions of Dalziel’s ‘Arabian Nights, 1865,’ and ‘Goldsmith, 1865,’ were regarded by the engravers as so remarkable that they had photographs made from these drawings on the wood, and then, by the newly-discovered art of photographing on to wood, the photographs were transferred on to other wood blocks, and the originals on the wood preserved. Several are to be seen in the art gallery at South Kensington. The British museum possesses a few, and so do the Adelaide and Melbourne museums in Australia. Mr. Harold Hartley, Mr. Fairfax Murray, Mrs. C. E. Davis, Boyd Houghton’s sister, and, I believe, Mr. Heseltine, are among other owners of these rare drawings, either on wood or paper. But the number is really very small. ¶ There is also a series of drawings for Dalziel’s ‘Bible Gallery,’ commissioned by the Dalziels as early as 1863, as far as I can gather from Messrs. Dalziel’s own records, which are not too satisfactory. Most of the drawings in this series, however, were made on paper, though some by Mr. Watts and Sir Edward Poynter were on the wood, and uncut, and may be seen at South Kensington. Messrs. Dalziel, finding what a marvellous collection of illustrations they had obtained, wisely did nothing but commission artists to make more, and the work was not brought out until 1880, when the drawings were all photographed on to the wood before engraving, and thus preserved. Where most of them are to-day I do not know. As separate illustrations and great works of art, I was the first to call attention to them as far back as 1889. Those by Lord Leighton are now regarded as his masterpieces, and there are very fine examples of Ford Madox Brown, and Watts, and Sir Edward Poynter, who has never done better work. From all but the artistic standpoint the book was a failure. ¶ These, then, with rare unengraved examples which are bound to turn up, constitute all the original drawings for book-illustration reproduced by wood engraving which will ever be found, and they are mostly owned by museums. I must point out, however, that forgeries, both in the way of shameless copies of the originals, or prints worked over with pen-and-ink, and wash, and even colour—the artists themselves did this sometimes; Pinwell certainly did—and palpable imitations, have all, within a short time, been submitted to me. But, I should imagine, of all these finished drawings done upon the wood for reproduction before 1865, there are not a hundred, probably not fifty, that will ever come into the sale room. Of course, a great find may some day be made in a publisher’s office, or an artist’s portfolio. But I doubt it.

NOTE ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS.—These are mostly included merely to show the sort of drawings the artists made for the engraver and lithographer, who either translated them on to the plate or stone or had an intermediary to do this for them. The first, by Stothard, is in sepia, and a design, I know not for what book, but evidently a headpiece or initial which would have been cleaned up by the engraver. The second, by Bartolozzi, a cul de lampe in washes of indian ink, is very pretty, and the engraver probably would follow it exactly, though he would lose some of the freedom. The others on the same page, by Westall and Courbould, are very typical, and represent the British style of illustration for novels and stories at the beginning of the last century, and very perfectly they represent it, and that is the best I can say for them. The Westall, in wash and pen (indian ink), is slightly touched with colour on the woman’s dress, and may have been engraved on metal and printed in two or more tints. The other is in simple black-and-white. The landscapes are very characteristic; the upper, of the stolid, solid, British water-colourist, who was determined at all costs to be British, and usually forgot he was an artist. And the other, by Barrett, is typical of the later work when Turner had made himself felt with the ‘Liber,’ or did Turner steal from Barrett? Any way, Barrett is seen at his best in this very charming sepia drawing, evidently for an illustration, while the ‘Liber’ drawings at the National gallery show Turner as an illustrator at his worst and his best. The methods of the two artists are absolutely identical; washes, little work with pen, and much scraping and scratching with the knife. As for the engravings, one is from Northcote’s ‘Fables,’ 1828, and shows the perfection of the minute work of Harvey and Jackson. Yet there is the feeling, somehow, of a big landscape in the print, and the engraving is extraordinary, putting to shame much of the modern so-called bold, but really blundering and ignorant, work on wood. The printing also is excellent in Northcote’s volumes. They were printed by J. Johnson, and the excellent blacks the printer of to-day would, even with all his improved appliances, have difficulty in equalling. The printing is much better than that in the French book, ‘Gil Blas,’ by Everat (Paulin, 1836), in which the ink is dull and grey, but in every other way the Gigoux shows the wide difference in aims there was between the leading English and French artists of that day: Harvey, all refinement; Gigoux, all force, directness and go. Both these engravers seem to have rendered the originals well. What the artists thought is another story. The Gigoux also proves that Daniel Vierge worked out rather than invented his style. The next two illustrations are from Curmer’s ‘Paul et Virginie,’ 1838, which is usually regarded, as Curmer wished it, a ‘monument typographic’ to the glory of the artists who illustrated it, is admitted to be the most important French illustrated book of the period, and to it all the better remembered Frenchmen of the time contributed something. Among the artists are Isabey, Paul Huet, Jacque, Johannot, Français, Meissonier, Steinhell; the engravers were Poiret, Lavoignat, Best, Brévière, Frenchmen; Bentworth, the German; but Orin Smith, Branston, Mary Ann Williams and her brothers, English, did the greater part of the work: a magnificent, artistic union, more practical in many ways than visits of kings and the patter of papers. The book was printed, and extraordinarily well printed, by Everat. ¶ The appearance of Turner as an illustrator changed things much. The ‘Solace of Song,’ published by Seeley, 1837, illustrated by Harvey, and engraved by W. T. Green and others, is simply metal engraving on wood, and is astonishing as an example of what can be done. The final outcome is seen in the print from ‘Sacred Allegories,’ by the Rev. W. Adams (Rimingtons, 1856), one chapter of which, ‘The Distant Hills,’ is illustrated by Samuel Palmer and also engraved by Green. This is, of its sort, probably the most perfect example of English book illustration. ¶ But in Germany the greatest progress had been made under Menzel, and his ‘Frederick,’ from which the print, The Round Table, is taken, is simply magnificent. It was engraved by Krutchmar, 1840, and from it sprang modern illustration, as I have said, in England. The first evidence is to be found in Rossetti’s Maids of Elfen Mere in Allingham’s ‘Music Master,’ 1855. In 1858 came the ‘Contes Rémois,’ Levy, illustrated by Meissonier, the perfection of French work, and the beginning and end of his reputation, as well as the most amazing proof of the genius of Lavoignat as a wood-engraver. After this the art of illustration began to flourish in England, and in a year or two the most superb work was being done.

PLATE V

MEISSONNIER, DEL. LAGORNAL, SC. FROM ‘LES CONTES REMOIS,’ 1858

JACQUE, FROM CURMER’S ‘PAUL ET VIRGINIE,’ ENGRAVED BY MARY ANN WILLIAMS, 1838

E. ISABEY, DEL. BAGG, SC. FROM ‘PAUL ET VIRGINIE’