Graham's Magazine, Vol. XLI, No. 6, December 1852

“PALE CONCLUDING WINTER.”

A HISTORY OF THE ART OF WOOD-ENGRAVING

With regard to the antiquity and origin of this most beautiful and most important of the early Christian arts – most important, because to it can be traced directly the invention of typography, as it now exists, bringing knowledge and truth within the reach of all who desire to attain them – there has been much difference and dispute among the literati. After the second restoration of letters – I mean after the dull and dreary interregnum between the era of the Stuarts and the Georgian era of literature, dating from the commencement of the present century – there seems to have arisen a strange habit of referring every thing, the origin of which was not distinctly known, to eras the most remote. Not to be able to say such a discovery was made by such a learned German or Venetian, by such a celebrated Gaul or Briton, in such a town, in such a year, of such a century, was sufficient cause for the drivelers of the time – the best scholars of whom knew, like Shakspeare, little Latin and less Greek, assuming, nevertheless, the possession of the deepest classic lore – to assert point-blank that it was made by such a wonderful Chinese philosopher during the reign of Wu-wang, emperor of China, or such a remarkable Egyptian sage, in the reign of Tathrak or Amenophis; or, that it was in common use in the days of Pericles, or perhaps even of the later Roman emperors.

The general knowledge of the classic languages was then so rare even among the authors of those days, that the dictum of any dunce who grossly misconstrued a Greek or Latin text, or of any rogue, who chose to forge one in support of his theory – in those days a matter of daily occurrence – was, so far from being questioned, detected, refuted, and exposed, as would now be the case, within a week of its publication, quoted and requoted by successive schools of dunces, until it was received as a truth, and sent down as a grave authority to future generations.

Though no author of this day, thanks to the number and acumen of the literary and critical journals – we do not mean newspapers, which promulgate, not correct falsehoods – could originate a blunder, much less a forgery, with a possibility of escaping detection; still, careless and hasty compilers following what they deem authorities, without themselves referring to the original authority cited, are constantly reproducing falsehood, promulgating it, and giving to it weight as truth, when nothing is more averse from their intention than to do so.

In nothing is this more the case than in the very class of works in which of all others accuracy and truth are most requisite – are, indeed, indispensable – we mean what are now called juvenile books, school-books for the use of the young. These works are, unfortunately, rarely or never composed by men of science, men of historical knowledge, men of high general information, or literary standing, although – embracing, as they pretend to do, the whole range of human knowledge from astronomy and the direct sciences, through universal history to political economy, physical and moral philosophy, and philology – they, above all beside, should be the work of men of unerring accuracy in the statement of facts. Since it is easier to teach three new ideas to a mind unimpressed, than to eradicate from it one preconceived opinion, false or true.

It is enough to say in this connection, that out of all the modern “histories for the young” we have ever seen – and we have seen scores, if not hundreds – we never read six successive pages which did not contain either a disgraceful blunder as to fact, or a more disgraceful perversion of facts to meet popular prejudices or popular passions. In the pseudoscientific text-books, sheer stupidity and ignorance produce the same effects.

All this class of books, as a rule, are worse than worthless; and we had far rather see the rising generation return to “Mother Goose,” “Little Red Riding Hood,” and “Cinderella,” and thence to “Sandford and Merton,” Mrs. Barbauld, Miss Edgeworth, and works and writers of the like calibre, until fit to commence the real study of real history and real science, than have them stuffed with such farragoes of imbecility, reckless assertion, and plausible falsehood – under the plea of knowledge made popular – as, for instance, most of “The Histories for the Young,” which afford a perfect type of the class of works, to which we have just alluded.

To this train of thought we have been led, by observing the pertinacious and absurd folly, on the part of all the writers on the subject before us, of ascribing the art of wood-engraving and printing, to every nation which never possessed it, and the invention of it to none knows who.

It really seems that to these worthies it is quite argument enough to say, because the Chinese, Egyptians, Phœnicians, Greeks, or Romans did not possess such an art, but did possess such another, therefore they must have possessed that which they did not possess.

Thus – because the Egyptians made wooden moulds with reversed characters or figures, wherein to make fictile bricks, jars, or other implements – they possessed the art of wood-engraving and printing.

Because the Greeks and Romans used to engrave their laws and decrees on stone or metal, both in intaglio and relief, and even colored the depressed or prominent characters with various pigments, therefore the Greeks and Romans made use of printing and wood or metallic engraving – as understood in the present sense; that is to say, for the purpose of taking reversed impressions on paper, parchment, or the like, with ink or other pigments, from prepared blocks, or forms of movable types – the impressions, not the blocks or forms, being legible in the usual mode, from left to right, or the reverse, according to the nature of the character or language.

It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary now to state, not only that there is no reason for believing that any ancient nation was acquainted at all with any thing in the least degree approaching to the modern art of printing, but that there is a positive certainty that no people of antiquity was so acquainted.

In the same manner may be dismissed the Chinese claim to originality in this invention. So early as the 12th century, stamps, engraved with monograms, or fanciful figures, assumed by individuals as their signs manuals, wrought on them in relief, were in common use. They were made of wood or metal, dipped in ink or paint, and impressed on any document requiring signature; and they seem to have continued occasionally in use so late as to the reign of King Henry VIII. of England, whose warrant for the execution of the poet Surrey was signed by this method, and not by royal sign manual; the king being then in articulo mortis, and unable to sign his name.

At a much earlier period than this – so early, indeed, as the sixth century – the Emperor Justin I., in signing documents, made use of what is now called a stencil, a thin plate of wood or metal perforated with figures, characters, or other designs, which, when applied to a surface of blank paper or parchment, leaves the design on the exposed surface of the paper, all else being covered, open to the operation of a brush or pencil, which necessarily leaves the impress of the form invariably the same on all occasions.

From this practice of stenciling, perhaps, or more probably from the dipping of the signet-ring, which had been used for ages in impressing wax and the like, into ink, and impressing it on paper, was derived the idea of stamps engraved with monograms, and used as signatures – an invention of vast practical utility in an age when not one man of five hundred, even of kings and nobles, unless he were in holy orders, was capable of signing, or even reading, his own name. One of the earliest of these stamps is that of Gundisalvo Tellez, one of the Gothic invaders of Spain, affixed to a charter bearing date A. D. 840; and the same sign, after his death, was appended, by his widow, Flamula, to a grant for the good of her husband’s soul.

Now it has never been asserted or pretended that the Chinese, even at a much later period than this, had advanced beyond the use of monogram stamps impinged by hand.

In lack, therefore, of more direct evidence, this is enough to justify us in rejecting the claim put forward in behalf of the Chinese, to the invention of the art of wood-engraving or typography, and the idea of its having been imported from them into Europe.

But there is no lack of more direct evidence. For in the year of the Christian era 1271, Marco Polo, a Venetian trader, voyaged from Venice to Tartary and China, in the reign of the Emperor Rublai Khan, his uncle and father having visited the same countries some quarter of a century before. On his return, he published an account of his travels, very copious and very full of marvelous truths and marvelous errors – most of the latter having been since shown to be misconceptions of real truths, not falsehoods. In this work, Marco Polo makes no mention of the use of printing-blocks, or of cannon, or of the mariner’s compass by the Chinese. Hence it is morally certain, either that the Chinese did not at that period possess any one of these inventions – all of which have been attributed to them – at all, or that the people for whom Marco Polo wrote, the Venetians in particular, and Europeans in general, possessed them in the same degree of perfection with the Chinese, at the same or at an earlier period.

It is, indeed, probable, that the Chinese claim was only put in by favorers of the Venetian claim to the European invention or introduction of this art, in order to account reasonably for their priority.

And it would be curious, were it not almost invariably the case, that the forged legend introduced to support a false claim, when analyzed and searched by a clear head, not only confutes itself, but that which it was intended to establish.

It is very satisfactorily proved that previous to the fourteenth century, although stencils and stamps had been in use for some time, perhaps for some centuries, as means for securing the invariability of monogram signatures, and of giving the power of signing papers to those who could not write, no use whatever had been made or attempted of either, for the purpose of reproduction from a single type and indefinite multiplication of copies.

This is what we mean by printing and engraving; and until it be shown that some nation of antiquity did invent and use such instruments for such purposes, all discussion is absurd.

It were just as rational to argue, that, because the Chinese, Egyptians, Greeks and Romans possessed boilers, and boiling water, and steam, with which they might have propelled steamboats, had they known how, therefore they had steamboats – as to assert, that, because they possessed reversed moulds and stamps, in relief or intaglio, for the making of pottery, with which they might have produced colored impressions on papyrus or linen, had they conceived the idea of doing so, therefore they did reproduce works of art from plates or types.

It appears most probable that the first direct approach to this art was the practice, when playing cards were first introduced in Europe, of the German card-makers, to use stencils in order to draw, accurately and invariably, the outlines of the figures on their cards, which were then filled in with color by the hand. This, though not originally intended to facilitate multiplication so much as accuracy, would naturally suggest that idea.

The next known step, in progress, was the use of monogrammatic stamps, some of them of most elaborate and exquisite design and execution, for the impression on illuminated manuscripts, such as missals, breviaries, bibles and other religious works, of the large, beautiful and often many-colored initial letters.

And these, there is much reason to believe, were more or less in use so early as A. D. 1400.

The history of the first known wood-cut is as follows. From a convent within fifty miles of Augsburgh, where in 1418 the first mention of a kartenmacher, card-engraver, occurs, the earliest wood-cut known – the St. Christopher, now in the collection of the Earl of Spencer – was obtained. The outlines are engraved on wood, and thence taken off in dark coloring matter, resembling printer’s ink, on the paper; after which the impression appears to have been colored by means of a stencil.

This cut is extremely well-designed, as regards the principal figures, which, with the exception of the extremities, are executed in such style as would not disgrace Albert Durer himself. The perspective is – as usual, in old wood-cuts even of a later date than this, and executed by artists of high grade, such as Hans Burgmair and Hans Schaufflein, nearly a century afterward – utterly disregarded. It was, indeed, scarce understood.

The second and third cuts in existence, also in Lord Spencer’s collection, are an “Annunciation” and “St. Bridget,” both similarly printed in outline, and colored by stenciling, the last of these is curious, as showing, on examination of the back of the plate – for it is not, like the others, pasted into a book – that the impression was not taken by means of a press, but by friction on the paper superimposed to the block, by means of a burnisher or similar instrument, just as proofs are now taken by engravers.

From this period, the succession and progress of the art is clearly to be traced. First, through figure blocks, with letterings sculptured on them in relief, to solid blocks carved in wood and printing off entire pages, as is done by modern stereotypes, with or without pictures attached. At this stage of the work the idea of reproduction and multiplication had obtained as the primary objects of the art.

The next step was the invention of movable types capable of being combined at will into words and sentences, braced into the form of pages, and, the work completed, distributed, and combined anew for the composition of other and different works. From this period, wood-engraving proper, and type-cutting in wood, became separate arts; and ere long – metallic types engraved at first, and afterward cast, replacing the wooden letters – the latter passed into oblivion, while the former has increased gradually and steadily, though with occasional pauses and interruptions, until the present day; when it has attained its highest known perfection, while it is still so far progressive, that it is not easy to predict what may be expected of its future improvement and excellence.

And here it may be well, since few persons comparatively speaking, even of those who are admirers and more or less judges of the art, have a distinct idea of its precise character and nature, to explain briefly in what it consists and wherein it differs from engraving on copper or steel.

All engraving consists of cutting with a sharp instrument into a hard surface, whether of wood or metal, so that when the picture is perfected on the wood or metal, ink may be applied to the surface, from which fac-similies may be taken off by the impression of moistened paper on the block or plate by means either of friction or pressure.

The practice thus far is identical whether steel, copper or wood is to be the material engraved.

But with this all similarity ends.

In steel or copperplate-engravings the ink, when applied, is received into the engraved lines, and is wiped off from the prominent portions; so that, in the impressions taken on paper, the lines cut into the plate communicate the shades, the portions left in relief on the plate remain colorless and blank.

In wood-engravings, on the contrary, the ink, when applied, is taken up by the parts left prominent, and never penetrates into the engraved lines; so that, in the impressions taken on paper, the portions of the wood less prominent communicate the shades, the portions cut away, on the block, remain colorless and blank.

Thus the same process, pursued on the metallic plate, and on the wood-block, produces effects diametrically opposite, and to produce the same effects from the two materials converse processes must be pursued.

Thus we will engrave the word on a plate of metal, and on a block of wood, and let these two engravings be perfect fac-similies, line for line alike, in form, length, width and depth; then, the impression taken from the engraved plate of metal, being derived from the depressed lines, filled with ink, into which the paper is forced by the action of the press, will present the appearance shown above.

But, the impression taken from the engraved block of wood, being derived from the elevated portions of the block, covered with ink, upon which the paper is impinged by the action of the press, will give the appearance presented below.

Observe, therefore, that as on the two engravings, the same work produces results exactly the reverse, one of the other; so to produce the same effect from each of the two engravings, we must have recourse to two different processes.

The former of the above two cuts, is the effect produced on paper from a metallic plate, into the surface of which the lines producing the shades are engraved or cut in.

The same effects precisely may be produced on paper from a wood-block; but, in order to produce it, all the portions of the wood-block, which now give solid black upon the paper, must be cut out of the wood; leaving the lines, which now give white on the paper, prominent, so as to receive the ink and make their impression on the surface to be printed.

The same end could be attained on the other side – that is to say, a light lettering on a dark ground – by cutting away all the metal, except the lines now producing dark impressions on a light ground, which would then give light lines on a dark ground; but the labor of doing this would be interminable, and the advantage gained, nothing.

This principle once understood, the whole system becomes comprehensible at a glance. If, in an engraving on metal, all the lines cut into the plate were of equal depth and capacity, all the impressions would be equal as to shade, and the print would display an impression in pure black and pure white only, without intermediate tints.

So, in cutting a wood block, if all the prominent parts be left equally prominent, the quantity of ink deposited by each and all will be identical, and the impression will be, as before, in simple black and white.

To produce greater depth of shadow in one part of a metallic engraving than in others, the lines must be cut deepest where the shadow is to be the blackest, and thence graduated, less and less deep, to the plain surface, which gives pure white.

To produce greater depth of shadows in one part of a wood-cut than in others, the prominent lines must be left most prominent where the shadow is to be the blackest; and thence shaved away more and more, as the shadows are to be less intense, until no lines at all are left on which the paper can impinge, and there will be pure white.

The superiority of wood-blocks to metallic-plates consists in their superior capacity for impressing broad, solid masses of pure black, as contrasted with pure white. An effect which cannot be readily or effectually given on metal. Since in intaglio engraving the nearest approach to absolute blackness, extending over spaces, is obtained by the continual crossing and recrossing of slender black lines, until the white interstices become infinitesimal, and their effect is more or less swallowed up and lost. The superiority of metal to wood, on the other hand, consists in the greater readiness and facility with which it transfers to paper the finest and most delicate hair-strokes, such as could hardly be left to sustain themselves in wood when all surrounding lights are cut away.

This leads to a different mode of handling in the two materials. Shadows in metallic engraving are produced, mainly, by what is called cross-hatching, or cutting lines, intersecting each other diagonally, with white, lozenge-shaped intersections between them. This method cannot be resorted to with any facility on wood, as any one may comprehend, who will consider, that in one case, on metal, the engraver has only to cut long, continuous lines intersecting each other, each line by a single stroke; leaving the interstices to take care of themselves; while in the other, on wood, every separate lozenge-shaped interstice has to be cut out in precise and regular form, and with such nicety as to leave the intersections, often no wider than a hair, in continuous and accurate lines.

The labor and waste of time in this method is enormous; and, although it is adhered to by some artists, the better and, in our opinion, more effective way of giving shadow is by leaving greater breadth to the prominent lines where the heavier shadows are required, and so diminishing the size of the light spaces left, though in a different direction, and by a different method.

The finest cross-hatched wood-cut in existence, probably the finest ever executed, is a large cut of the death of Dentatus, engraved by Mr. Harvey from the design of Mr. R. B. Haydon. But, though it is unquestionably the most elaborately engraved large wood-cut that ever has appeared, and though parts of it are better than any thing earlier or later, in the same style, it cannot be regarded as a successful specimen of the art. It is, in fact, an attempt to rival a copperplate-engraving on wood; and, as such, has transcended the powers of the art, and the capabilities of the material.

That Mr. Harvey has effected with wood all that could be effected on wood in this manner, is undeniable; but that he could have produced much more with wood, in a different manner, is equally certain.

If the ne plus ultra of wood-engraving were to produce imitations of metal-engraving of inferior effect, and with much greater labor, then Mr. Harvey’s Dentatus were the ne plus ultra of wood-engraving.

But wood, within its own legitimate bounds, is greater and more effective, in some peculiarities, than copper. Just as copper, in other peculiarities, is greater than wood. Neither was ever intended to clash or contend with the other. Each in its own empire is supreme.

It should be added here, before quitting the technical portion of the subject, that one advantage possessed by wood-cuts is this – that giving their impression from the elevated surfaces precisely as metallic types, the wood-blocks can be inserted in the same forms among the types; so that the impressions can be worked by the same press, and printed on the same pages, while the reverse sides can also be printed, either with letter-press or other wood-cuts, so as to form part and parcel of one continuous narrative. Metallic-plates, on the contrary, must be worked by an entirely different press, and on separate pages, apart from the letter-press, and on one side of the paper only.

This gives a great superiority for purposes of illustration, whether by anagrams or slight sketches of things described in the body of the work, to the wood-cut, above the copper-plate. And, indeed, this admitted advantage, with the extreme comparative cheapness of wood-engraving, and the rare delicacy and beauty which has been attained by the more modern artists of the day, has led to the very general adoption of this style of illustration for ornamented volumes.