Engraving: Its Origin, Processes, and History

Before speaking of the branch of engraving known by the name of stipple, it would be well to say a few words as to the mode of printing in colour, so prevalent at one time, and of the connection which the works of Kirkall had in relation to the method. Edward Kirkall, born at Sheffield in the year 1722, published a set of plates, in the printing of which he made use both of mezzotint and etching on copperplate combined with wood blocks (that is to say, one printing was from a copperplate, the remainder from wood blocks), in order to give variety of colour to a set of chiaroscuros and other engravings which he executed at that time. His plan differed from that of Leblond in that he used only one copperplate printing, the other tints being given by wood blocks; the results were interesting and effective, partaking more of the character of chiaroscuros, the name he himself gave to them. Apart from the failure of Leblond to realise his ingenious idea that, by the consecutive and proper superposition of three layers of primitive colours, every shade of colour might be produced in the print, there still remained another fatal defect in the process: all his colours were impressed by copperplate printing, that is, he made use of three plates successively printed one after the other on the same sheet of paper. Now a person who can realise the heavy pressure under which a copperplate has to pass so as to force it into the damp paper, in order that the paper should extract the ink from the grain in which it is held, will be able to see that the second and third printing – no matter how accurate the register – must crush the grain or burr given to the paper by the previous printing and thus destroy the beauty of the engraver's work. Notwithstanding the really remarkable results produced by Leblond, this fatal imperfection mars all the engravings he has left executed in this manner. The copperplates which were printed in colour and carried to such perfection, particularly in England, about the close of the eighteenth century, were printed from one plate, generally executed in stipple, and the various tints or colours carefully rubbed in by the printer, who used for this purpose a sort of stump instead of the ordinary dabber. Whatever artistic harmony in colour might be produced was therefore partially the work, and to the credit of the printer; the printed impressions were in addition generally touched up afterwards, and in some cases almost entirely coloured by hand. Every impression printed in colours necessarily varies; some are really exquisite in their delicacy of tone and assemblage of shades, while others are contemptible in their staring vulgarity. Kirkall engraved an elaborate ornamental form on which to give a receipt to his subscribers for these engravings; one of which, running thus, "Receipt from Sir Hans Sloane of one guinea as part payment for twelve prints in chiaroscuro which he (Kirkall) promises to deliver when finished on payment of one guinea more," can be seen at the British Museum, and will give some idea of the moderate remuneration artists of those days were content to receive for their valuable labour.

The rise of stipple as a separate style took place in the middle of the eighteenth century, and although the coming of Bartolozzi to England gave it so great an impetus, it is necessary to point out that the works of the school which goes by his name by no means show the capabilities of the method. The aim of Bartolozzi and his followers was essentially prettiness; to this all their efforts tended, and for this stipple was a convenient medium. The very printing in red, recently so popular, is barbarous in its ineffectiveness, plates so printed being deprived of a great part of their proper ranges of light and shade. The more serious work in this method was accomplished by other engravers, of whom may be specially mentioned Thomas Gaugain, Anthony Cardon, Caroline Watson, and, later on in the present century, William Walker, who carried the style to the highest point ever reached or likely to be reached. Engraving in stipple – that is, putting dots into the plate in place of lines – was, however, no new invention; from early times line engravers had placed dots in the interstices of their crossed lines to give solidity and greater effect. Ottavio Leoni, a Roman painter, had used the method freely in a set of plates of distinguished artists, which he engraved in the years 1621ndash;5, executing the heads, with the exception of the hair, entirely in stipple; and early in the century French engravers made use of the same means to give effect to many of their flesh textures. The crayon style of engraving introduced by Demarteau, and the feeble English manner known as chalk, which had only a limited reign, are but modifications of the style.

Francesco Bartolozzi, the life-long friend of Cipriani (born in 1725 at Florence), was educated in engraving at Venice by Joseph Wagner, and like Cipriani, who had preceded him, came over to England in 1764. His reputation was already established there; he was appointed engraver to the king with a salary of £300 a year, became one of the first forty full members of the Royal Academy (1768), and was the only engraver admitted to the honour down to the year 1855. Bartolozzi remained in England for thirty-eight years, continuously producing his innumerable and well-known plates; at length, in 1802, seduced by the offer of a house, pension, and a knighthood, he went, at the age of seventy-seven, to Lisbon, where he died in 1815, having reached his ninety-first year, and working at his profession to the last. John Ogborn, Cheesman, Thomas Ryder, Chapman, Agar, T. Burke, and the delightful P. W. Tomkins – who, with the late C. H. Jeens, may be called the miniaturist of engravers – were all followers more or less of his school. An admirable draughtsman and perfect master of the graver, Bartolozzi was in addition able to infuse a certain grace and beauty into the trivial work by which he is best known; but he has done work of a higher stamp, and some of his line engravings, such as "Clytie," the "Death of Dido," the portraits of Lord Thurlow and Martin van Juchen in full armour (worthy of the graver of Pontius or De Jode), make all who care for the art regret that so talented an artist gave the greater part of his time and attention to producing prints which, though graceful and pleasing, charm but for the moment and leave no permanent impression.

This, the Augustan era of English engraving, saw also the rise of the talented and genial Thomas Bewick (born 1753, died 1828), who made the domain of natural history his own, and in addition to executing some interesting copper plates, has by his exquisite wood-cuts after his own drawings entitled England to claim her place amongst the greatest artists in that form of engraving. The Boydells, too, had established their celebrated firm; both were engravers, John in line, and Josiah, his nephew (a pupil of Earlom), in mezzotint. John Boydell was born in 1719, and established himself first (in 1752) at the sign of the "Unicorn," corner of Queen Street, Cheapside, afterwards at 9 °Cheapside, and finally took additional premises in Pall Mall for the Shakespeare Gallery. Josiah was born in 1752, succeeded on his uncle's death (1804) to the business, and died in 1817. A great proportion of the best prints of this period will be found to bear the addresses of these famous publishers and engravers.

The last years of the eighteenth and the commencement of the present century witnessed the death of many of the famous engravers already mentioned. It was now that the Birmingham school of line arose, and, urged by the influence of J. M. W. Turner, executed their delicate line engravings after that famous painter. William Radelyffe was the founder of this school, and was followed by his son Edward, Robert Brandard, J. T. Willmore, E. Goodall, R. Wallis, William Miller, and others. Sharp, Anker Smith, James Heath, Earlom, Dickinson, Young, and J. R. Smith still remained for a time, but much of their best work was already done. William Ward, apprenticed to J. R. Smith, his brother James, the noted animal painter, Charles Turner and Samuel William Reynolds had also appeared to carry on and bring to its fullest development the great British school of mezzotint. William Ward, born in 1766, by his series of engravings after George Morland – whose sister he married – has made the names of the painter and engraver almost indissoluble, each having contributed to the immortality of the other. James, the painter and Royal Academician, born in 1769, studied under his brother, with whom he served an apprenticeship of nearly nine years; his plates of "Cornelius the Centurion" after Rembrandt, Sir Joshua's "Mrs. Billington as St. Cecilia," and the studies after nature of heads and feet of ducks, ducklings, geese, and calves, are among the finest works executed in the method. James lived to a great age, dying in 1859 in his ninety-first year, having survived his brother and also a nephew, William James Ward. The last-named was likewise a good mezzotint engraver, but unfortunately died in the prime of life in the year 1840.

Charles Turner was born in the same year as S. W. Reynolds (1773), and survived the latter by more than twenty years; his prints are very numerous, and comprise a great variety of subjects. The large upright mezzotint of Sir Joshua's group of the Marlborough family, with the two younger children in front, one holding a mask, the other shrinking back in fright, is deservedly well known, as is also his fine rendering of "The Shipwreck" after J. M. W. Turner, published in 1807. Other characteristic prints which may be mentioned are "Black and Red Game," after Elmer; "Pheasants," after Barenger; the portraits of "Alexandra, Empress of Russia," after Monier; "Lord Newton," after Raeburn; and a marvellous life-size head of Salvator Rosa's "St. Francis," engraved in 1805. Turner lived till the year 1857, when he died at his house in Warren Street, Fitzroy Square, at the age of eighty-three.

Samuel William Reynolds, one of the most gifted men who ever applied themselves to the engraver's art, studied mezzotint under C. H. Hodges; he commenced his comparatively short career both as painter and engraver, and exhibited for several years at the British Institution. Endowed with singular powers of fascination, Reynolds seems to have attracted and kept fast the friendship of all with whom he became acquainted, irrespective of their particular social surroundings. Samuel Whitbread, the distinguished Member of Parliament, of old Drury Lane Theatre renown, was his intimate and kindest friend; Sheridan and Edmund Kean played at Pope Joan with his daughters, and the very printer of his plates fifty years after Reynolds' death would grow bright when recalling his memory, saying, "He was the prince of engravers." He gave lessons in drawing to the daughters of George III., who wished to make him their equerry, and afterwards an important post with a salary of £900 a year was offered him, but both these offers were refused.

It is from the technical skill and firm daring which Reynolds displayed in his prints, and the intelligent use he made of the means at his command, that his name as an engraver remains pre-eminent; the "Falconer," "Vulture and Snake," "Heron and Spaniel," and "Leopards" after Northcote; the "Duchess of Bedford" after Hoppner; the "regal" whole-length of the unfortunate Princess Charlotte; the large and exquisitely finished etching from Rembrandt's famous picture of "The Mill;" and the "Land Storm" – known also as the "Mail Coach in a Storm" – after George Morland, are but a few of the many prints which show the power and versatility of the engraver. In the last-named print (published 1798), where the resources of mezzotint and etching combined have been used to fullest purpose, the familiar identity of the painter has been almost hidden under the massive effects of light and shade shown in the landscape, where amidst lightning flash and rushing wind the terror-stricken horses are seen dashing madly onward.

When Reynolds went to Paris in 1826, artists there were astonished at his paintings and the effects that he produced. Sixdeniers and Maile studied with him, and several plates bear their combined names; unfortunately both these engravers, excellent as they were as mezzotinters, chiefly engraved after painters whose productions partook of a frivolous and somewhat free character. Reynolds, however, left more permanent marks of his stay in the French capital by executing there the large plates of Géricault's "Wreck of the Medusa," Horace Vernet's "Mazeppa," and the masterly representations of Charlet's characteristic types, the "Village Barber" and the "Rag Picker." In the last two the technical handling is so free that it would almost seem as if the scraper had been used with the same facility as chalk on paper. In reference to this there is a story extant that Reynolds once scraped a large whole-length portrait in a day and a night; the story is true, but it is also true that it is one of his worst plates.

Shortly before his death Reynolds was greatly struck with Constable's picture of "The Lock," and resolved to engrave it at his own cost; writing to Constable on the arrival of the picture, he says: – "I have been before your picture for the last hour. It is no doubt the best of your works true to nature, seen and arranged with a professor's taste and judgment. The execution shows in every part a hand of experience; masterly without rudeness, and complete without littleness; the colouring is sweet, fresh, and healthy; bright not gaudy, but deep and clear. Take it for all in all, since the days of Gainsborough and Wilson no landscape has been painted with so much truth and originality, so much art, so little artifice." But he did not live to fulfil his intention, for while still full of hope and high purpose for the future, Reynolds was suddenly stricken with paralysis, and died at his house in Bayswater in the year 1835. This sudden ending was the cause of his son – likewise named Samuel William – forsaking painting to finish some of his father's plates, and ultimately continuing with success the practice of mezzotint on his own account. Reynolds' daughter Elizabeth, who married the stipple engraver William Walker – though chiefly known by her miniatures and other paintings – also engraved in early life.64 Although there are no authentic records of the pedigree, S. W. Reynolds always asserted his collateral relationship to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and his son often mentioned that his father, when quite a youth, called on Sir Joshua, who, during the conversation that ensued, remarked to Reynolds, "Then you are my cousin."

Other engravers of eminence that flourished during this period are, in line, the Bromleys, John Landseer and his sons, Charles Heath, William B. Cooke and his brother George65 John Burnet (celebrated as painter, engraver, and author), Richard Golding, and John Scott; in stipple, William Bond, Thomas Woolnoth, and James Hopwood; in mezzotint, Henry Dawe, William Say, Henry Meyer, George Clint, and his pupil Thomas Lupton, who, for his introduction of soft steel instead of copper as the medium for mezzotint engraving, received in 1822 the gold Isis medal from the Society of Arts.

The method of stipple was meanwhile slowly dying out, but, as often happens when some particular art seems about to expire, this was the very time when the capabilities of the style were shown in the highest perfection. William Walker, born in Musselburgh in the year 1791, served an apprenticeship to three engravers, Mitchell, Stewart, and Thomas Woolnoth, and choosing stipple as his method of interpretation, in his portraits of Sir Walter Scott, Raeburn, and the Earl of Hopetoun, justified his choice by executing the finest works that were ever accomplished in the style. He astonished the mezzotinters of the period – who told him that, do what he could, he would never make stipple equal mezzotint in colour66– by the amount of force, colour, and effect which he was able to give to these plates. It is needless to say that such work as this could only be accomplished at the expense of intense energy and persevering labour, qualities which were the essential characteristics of the Scotch engraver. Later on, when settled in London, and more particularly after the introduction of steel in place of copper, Walker chiefly practised mezzotint, in which, however, he made use of his previous experience, etching his subject first in stipple before laying the mezzotint ground. His plate of Burns, engraved in mezzotint by himself and Mr. Cousins, owes a great part of its renown to Walker's power of rendering likeness; in regard to this, the painter Alexander Nasmyth remarked, on seeing the finished print, "that all he could say was that it seemed to him a better likeness of the poet than his own picture." This particular quality of fidelity in likeness Walker carried out in all his after historical works; for this purpose no trouble was too much, no labour too severe; the engraving of the "Distinguished Men of Science assembled at the Royal Institution in 1807ndash;8," which occupied a period of six years of unceasing research and labour, is a striking instance. This was practically his last plate. He died at the age of seventy-six, in the year 1867, at his house in Margaret Street, Cavendish Square, and was buried at Brompton Cemetery.

The death of Reynolds in 1835 seems to mark roughly the closing period of English engraving as a great art; two of his most renowned pupils were, however, still in the fulness of power, David Lucas and the present Mr. Samuel Cousins, R.A.67 Of Mr. Cousins, it is sufficient to relate that Reynolds, happening one day to be in the town of Exeter, saw some drawings in a shop window which caught his eye, and on going inside he learnt that they were by a lad of the name of Cousins, which incident led to Reynolds taking the youth to London and keeping him as his apprentice. Mr. Cousins' artistic genius, steady perseverance, and sterling integrity in all that he undertook, brought their full results, as shown in the fine series of mezzotint engravings so widely known and highly appreciated, and his name may indeed be said to close worthily the long line of great British mezzotinters.

David Lucas was born in the year 1802, and had the good fortune to meet in early life with Constable, between whom and Lucas was formed that intimate connection of painter and engraver which in earlier times had led to such great results. Failing Reynolds, Constable had applied to Lucas to be his engraver, and between them was completed the beautiful mezzotint series of English landscape; Constable bore the expense and was ever in counsel with the engraver, going into the minutest details, thinking no trouble too much to produce a good result, down to the printing of the plates, which they often did themselves, Lucas having had a press erected at his house for the purpose. The execution of this series led to Lucas undertaking the large plate of "The Cornfield" at his own risk, and afterwards the companion picture of "The Lock" – referred to before – finally culminating in his production of the superb engraving of Salisbury Cathedral as seen from the meadows, to which Constable himself gave the name of "The Rainbow."68 During all this period constant intercourse and correspondence took place between the painter and engraver. At one time, Constable writes, "Although much admired, Salisbury is still too heavy; the sentiment of the picture is that of solemnity not gaiety, yet it must be bright, clear, alive, fresh, and all the front seen." At another, "The bow is a grand whole, provided it is clear and tender; how I wish I could scratch and tear away with your tools on the steel, but I can't do it, and your quiet way is I know the best and only way." At length comes, "Dear Lucas, the print is a noble and beautiful thing entirely improved and entirely made perfect; the bow is noble, it is startling, unique." So hand-in-hand they worked on, the painter upbearing his helpmate the engraver, each aiding the other, little noticed by the public at the time, but slowly building up an imperishable fame. David Lucas died in 1881 in his eightieth year.

In the middle of the century, inartistic mixture of styles, mechanical means replacing true work, exigencies of copyright, and above all the complete severance of the engraver not only from the painter but also from his only rightful patron the public, had worked its sure result. Some good men survived, such as Lewis, Atkinson, Doo, Robinson, J. H. Watt, R. Graves, J. Posselwhite, Lumb Stocks, Henry Cousins69 W. Giller, J. R. Jackson, and a few others; but no young school had been forming to replace those dying out, and everything presaged the gradual extinction of engraving as one of the great arts. Has this lowest point been reached? Perhaps, as with the beautiful art of miniature painting, which for a time on the advent of photography seemed gone for ever, yet still like some stream was only running on in hidden course underground to appear again and reach daylight, so may it happen with engraving.

Within the last few years two engravers have produced prints worthy of any period of the art, the late C. H. Jeens and the present Mr. W. H. Sherborne. Some of the stipple miniature book illustrations which Jeens executed for Messrs. Macmillan and others, such as the gem medallions of Plato and Socrates, "Love and Death," Woolner's "Beautiful Lady," the portraits of Allan Ramsay, Charles Young, Mr. Ruskin's two Aunts, and above all William Blake, are engraved with the tender feeling and fine touch of the true artist. Mr. Sherborne, born in 1832, probably little known except by the few, originally a chaser and designer for jewellers and pupil of Pietro Gerometti, the Roman cameo engraver and medallist, in 1872, fired by hope and love of the art, forsook his own branch to follow that of engraving. Like all true artists, his mode of execution is his own. Apollo, exhibited at the Royal Academy, 1881, the head of Mr. Seymour Haden, the portraits of Phelps the Chelsea Waterman or Mrs. James Builth, and the interiors of Westminster Abbey, seen at the Painter-Etchers' Exhibition in the summer of 1885, are works that will last, and are good examples of the engraver's powers, causing regret that Mr. Sherborne had not earlier turned his attention to an art the beauty of which he so truly feels. While engraving as a whole was decaying, one branch, that of etching, has been undergoing a revival, and the names of Mr. Seymour Haden, Mr. Philip Hamerton, and Mr. Whistler are world-known. They and their school have confined themselves to producing their own designs, while others, like Mr. David Law, Mr. Macbeth, and the Messrs. Slocombe, also translate the works of painters. But, whether as a vehicle for conveying an original design or translating that of another artist, etching is strictly limited in its powers; it bears the same relation to the full art of engraving as sketching or drawing does to that of perfect painting; suggestive, capable of exhibiting broad effects of light and shade, or indicative of the idiosyncrasy of the etcher, it is, of its very nature, incomplete, and acts but as herald to proclaim the greater results to be obtained by following out the art to its proper goal.

The great impetus which Bewick's genius gave to the art of wood engraving at the commencement of the present century was carried onwards by his distinguished pupils Luke Clennell, Charlton Nesbitt, and William Harvey, the latter of whom, in 1821, cut the large block of the death of Dentatus (15 in. × 11¼ in.) from the picture of the erratic genius B. R. Haydon, under whom he was at that time studying drawing. Robert Branston, John Thompson and his brother Charles70 Jackson, and W. J. Linton, are names of equal renown; in fact, during the first half of the century, England may be said to have been supreme in the art. Gradually, however, the various mechanical processes for facilitating the commercial extension of the art such as electrotyping71 photography, &c., brought here, too, their deteriorating effects, causing the engraver to become less of an artist and more of a mechanic. In delicacy of work and elaboration of detail, American artists now stand first among wood engravers; but they attempt too much with the means at their command, and try to produce upon the comparatively soft material, wood, the delicate fineness of line which can only be realised in perfection on metal. The extreme closeness of the lines, combined with the exigencies of rapid surface printing, dull more or less the minute interstices which ought to show pure white; effect is lost, and, notwithstanding the excellence of the workmanship, the result becomes monotonous and wearying rather than pleasurable to the satiated eye. In etching also America takes high rank; in addition to Mr. Whistler, the names of Messrs. J. Gadsby Chapman, Gifford, Duveneck, F. S. Church, Pennell, Stephen Parrish, and Mr. and Mrs. Moran, are well known in Europe.