Another Reason perhaps is, that the Artist being totally engaged in the Pursuit of his Discovery, has but little Time to apply to the Lovers and Encouragers of Art for their Patronage, Protection, and Supplies necessary for the carrying on such a Design, or he has not Powers to set the Advantage which would result from it in a true Light; nor communicate in Words what he clearly conceived in Idea: for certainly there are Men enough, who from the mere Desire of increasing their Wealth, would give him that Assistance, which, like the artificial Heat of a Greenhouse, would bring that Art to a Ripeness, which would otherwise languish and die under the Coldness of the first Designer, and which in this Union of Riches and Invention would yield mutual Advantage to both.
There are besides this amongst the Great, without Doubt, many who would gladly lend their Patronage to rising Arts, if they knew their Authors....
He gives as example the Duke of Cumberland, who had just sponsored a tapestry plant at Fulham, and follows with an outline of the honorable traditions of the woodcut, pointing out that Dürer, Titian, Salviati, Campagnola, and other painters drew their work on woodblocks to be cut by woodcutters, and adds that “even Andrea Vincentino did not think it in the least a Dishonour, though a Painter, to grave on Wood the Landscapes of Titian.” He builds up to the statement that Raphael and Parmigianino drew on woodblocks to be cut in chiaroscuro by Ugo da Carpi.
After having said all this, it may seem highly improper to give to Mr. Jackson [he speaks of himself throughout in the third person] the Merit of inventing this Art; but let me be permitted to say, that an Art recovered is little less than an Art invented. The Works of the former Artists remain indeed; but the Manner in which they were done, is entirely lost: the inventing then the Manner is really due to this latter Undertaker, since no Writings, or other Remains, are to be found by which the Method of former Artists can be discover’d, or in what Manner they executed their works; nor, in Truth, has the Italian Method since the Beginning of the 16th Century been attempted by any one except Mr. Jackson.
We cannot help concluding that Jackson was falsifying here. Taking advantage of the public’s ignorance, he was puffing up his historical importance in order to sell wallpaper. If the cognoscenti complained that he had buried the chiaroscurists after da Carpi, he always had the explanation that others did not work in the Italian style, which he neglected to describe. Jackson knew what he was doing; he was not as ignorant of art history as Hardie and Burch have surmised, although it is true that he was not always certain as to dates, since he believed Andreani worked as a contemporary of da Carpi. In the Enquiry, published only two years earlier, he had shown familiarity with the prints of Goltzius, Coriolano, Businck, Nicolas and Vincent Le Sueur, Moretti, and Zanetti, all of whom had worked to some extent in the Italian manner.
Some writers have reacted strongly to this paragraph. Losing their sense of proportion, they have been led to the conclusion that Jackson was little better than a charlatan and that his work as a whole reflected his low ethics. In some instances his culpability has been magnified: Bénézit has even charged him with claiming to have invented color printing.
The worst result of Jackson’s insistence on re-inventing the Italian manner was that it made a major issue of what was at best a minor honor. It minimized such technical contributions as the following, which did not follow traditional recipes:
... Mr. Jackson has invented ten positive Tints in Chiaro Oscuro; whereas Hugo di Carpi knew but four; all of which can be taken off by four Impressions only.
This technical system was used for the Venetian chiaroscuros, the portrait of Algernon Sidney after Justus Verus, and others. He did not mention that he needed a greater range of tones because he was working after oil paintings, not drawings. The introduction of full color from a series of blocks to translate water colors is also mentioned in the Essay, but with no greater emphasis than in the Enquiry. Since his wallpaper was to be done in color as well as in chiaroscuro, and since the Essay included four plates in color, it is astonishing that Jackson failed to make stronger claims for his originality in this development.
He proceeded to describe his plan to replace wallpapers in the Chinese style with his papers, which, he stated, would have no “...gay glaring Colours in broad Patches of red, green, yellow, blue &c ... [with] no true Judgment belonging to it ... Nor are there Lions leaping from Bough to Bough like Cats, Houses in the Air, Clouds and Sky upon the Ground....”
He proposed, instead, to use as subjects many of the famous statues of antiquity; the landscapes of Salvator Rosa, Claude Lorrain, Poussin, Berghem, Wouwerman, the views of Canaletto, Pannini—
Copies of the Pictures of all the best Painters of the Italian, French and Flemish Schools, the fine sculptur’d Vases of the Ancients which are now remaining; in short, every Bird that flies, every Figure that moves upon the Surface of the Earth from the Insect to the human; and every Vegetable that springs from the Ground, whatever is of Art or Nature, may be introduced into this Design of fitting up and furnishing Rooms, with all the Truth of Drawing, Light, and Shadow, and great Perfection of Colouring.
This vast gallery of art and nature was to be printed in “Colours softening into each other, with Harmony and Repose....”
Even if we feel that Jackson was building up his project to attract attention, or that he was intoxicated by the idea of creating art on such a grand scale, there is still something wrong in his conceiving it in terms of wallpaper. What is certain is that Jackson was desperately anxious to create color prints. In the absence of art patrons, wallpaper was his only excuse for continuing as an artist. As a business venture it was absurd, even tragic. There is good reason to believe that Jackson lacked capital and rented the quarters for his business: his name does not appear in the Poor Rate Book of that period in the Borough of Battersea.
From a certain standpoint, this excursion by Jackson into wallpapers featuring Roman ruins and classical antiquity appeared to come at an appropriate time. Marco Ricci’s paintings as well as the somewhat later work of Pannini and Zuccarelli, and Guardi’s early ruin pieces, were already known. Ricci had visited England from 1710 to 1716. Zuccarelli had come twice, once in 1742 and again in 1751 to stay until 1773, becoming a foundation member of the Royal Academy; his classical landscapes with their glib charm had a comparatively good reception. But the strongest influence was undoubtedly that of Piranesi, whose powerful etchings brought to life as never before the ravaged stones of Imperial Rome and the Campagna. Their effect was widespread and electrifying, although it was not until the 1760’s that they developed their full force as an influence on English architecture and furniture design, and came to supersede the Palladian style brought to England by Inigo Jones at the beginning of the 17th century.
Jackson was too early; public taste was not yet ready for picturesque landscape or antique forms in wallpaper. But the style became dominant in the latter 18th century, particularly in England and France, and was also exported to America. While it is difficult to estimate the degree of Jackson’s influence in this development, we know that no scenic papers can be dated before the Ricci prints, or before Jackson’s wallpaper venture. Oman39 comments:
The use of wall-paper to imitate large architectural designs dates, as we have seen, from the days of J. B. Jackson. During the remainder of the century this style was used almost exclusively for decoration of the halls and staircases of great houses.
These papers covered rooms with landscape panoramas or with landscapes in Rococo scroll frames, relieved by decorative panels with busts, statuettes, and floral ornaments. As in preceding work, they were usually painted in opaque water colors. Most of the landscapes were loose transcriptions of designs by Pannini, Vernet, Lancret and other painters of architectural, scenic, and pastoral subjects. The treatment was generalized and superficial, the touch light and detached.
In this approach to wallpaper we see the basic ideas of Jackson, but with more emphasis on charm and elegance. Ironically, as years passed and original sources grew obscure, it became the tendency to attribute scenic papers in great houses to Jackson.40 If he was a failure as a pioneer in the field, he remained its most highly prized legend.
The Essay continued with a criticism of the current taste in wallpaper. Jackson enlarged on the lack of discrimination of persons who would prefer popular papers to his.
It seems, also, as if there was great Reason to suspect wherever one sees such preposterous Furniture, that the Taste in Literature of that Person who directed it was very deficient, and that it would prefer Tom D’Urfy to Shakespear, Sir Richard Blackmore to Milton, Tate to Homer, an Anagrammatist to Virgil, Horace, or any other Writer of true Wit, either Ancient or Modern.
He added that his prints, made in oil colors, would be permanent “whereas in that done with Water-Colours, in the common Way, Six Months makes a very visible Alteration in all that preposterous Glare, which makes its whole Merit....”
The Essay has eight plates, four of ancient statues in chiaroscuro and four of plants, animals, and buildings, in probably six colors. They were hastily done and no doubt had a rather fresh charm when published, but unfortunately the oil in the pigments was inferior, and every print in the book has darkened and yellowed badly. The prints and neighboring pages are heavily spotted and stained. This book which should have been his vindication became instead an argument for his lack of merit, especially to those who were not familiar with his other work.
We do not know how large a working force Jackson had or how many of the projected plates he planned to assign to helpers or to carry out himself. Some of the decorative borders from four blocks, blue, red, yellow, and gray-green, he undoubtedly made and printed himself. They are heavy and rather fruity in effect but are incisively drawn and cut. Also bearing Jackson’s stamp are some ornamental frames with fruit and flowers in the same full range of colors.
An album ascribed to him, in the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum, contains drawings of flowers, foliage, details of ornament and hand-colored designs, and a proof of the woodcut for the title page to the Suetonius of 1738. Five of the drawings are signed or initialed by Jackson, with dates from 1740 to 1753. The designs, which might have been intended for calico or wallpaper, are poorly done and not at all in his style. The drawings are competent but cannot definitely be considered his, notwithstanding the signatures, since we do not know Jackson’s handwriting from other sources. The most that can be said for this album is that it probably comes from his workshop.
While producing wallpaper, Jackson still made efforts to attract sponsors for full editions of his earlier chiaroscuros. The Woman Meditating was dedicated to the Antiquarian Society of London. Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter, rejected by Crozat, we assume, was dedicated to Thomas Hollis, whom Jackson may have met in Venice. And the Venus and Cupid with a Bow was inscribed to Thomas Brand, lifelong companion of Hollis who later added to his name the latter’s patronymic. The Algernon Sidney has no dedication, but since Hollis was a Sidney specialist and edited the first one-volume edition of his works in 1769, there is a strong likelihood that the print had some connection with this liberal gentleman. Jackson made it either in Venice just before he left, or in England shortly after his arrival.
Robert Dunbar, Jr., who had inherited the wallpaper manufactory on his father’s death, went out of business late in 1754. In his possession was a quantity of Jackson’s papers, for which he was the main outlet. With this backlog of papers on hand, and no large distributor, Jackson’s venture collapsed. This happened shortly after the publication of the Essay, and its author was never to have the opportunity to carry out his grandiose plans.
Jackson appealed to Hollis, who wrote to his former mentor, Dr. John Ward, professor of rhetoric at Gresham College and the head of a society founded by noblemen and gentlemen for the encouragement of learning:41
Dear Sir!—Do Me the Favour to accept these four prints of Jackson’s. They are no where sold, & will soon be scarce. When You consider their Merit, I am confident You will lament the hard Fate of the ingenious Artist; who, at this Time, in his old age, & in his own Country is unprotected unnoticed, and can difficultly support Himself against immediate distress & Ruin.
I am, with great Respect,
Dear Sir!
Your obliged affect humble Servant
T. Hollis
Bedford Street, February 10, 1755
We do not know the results of this appeal. In any case Jackson seems to have faded out as an artist. Little is known of his subsequent career up to the time more than twenty years later, when Bewick mentions meeting him in advanced age. In 1761 he made a drawing of Salisbury Cathedral for Edward Eaton, “bookseller at Sarum,” for a line engraving dedicated by Eaton to the Lord Bishop of Winchester. This large view included figures in the foreground in an attempt to give animation to the scene. Unfortunately the engraver, John Fougeron, was little more than an amateur. His execution was feeble and mechanical: Jackson’s drawing suffered so badly that its quality cannot be determined. This print was copied on a smaller scale in a steel engraving by J. B. Swaine, published by J. B. Nichols & Son in 1843, but it was hardly an improvement.
Bewick’s recollections of Jackson, written about forty years after their meeting in Newcastle, imply that Jackson stayed in that city for a period. The Town Clerk’s Office, however, has no record of his residence. The following passage from Bewick’s Memoir is the last evidence42 bearing on Jackson:
Several impressions from duplicate or triplicate blocks, printed in this way, of a very large size, were also given to me, as well as a drawing of the press from which they were printed, many years ago, by Jean Baptiste Jackson, who had been patronised by the King of France; but, whether these prints had been done with the design of embellishing the walls of houses in that country, I know not. They had been taken from paintings of eminent old masters, and were mostly Scripture pieces. They were well drawn, and perhaps correctly copied from the originals, yet in my opinion none of them looked well. Jackson left Newcastle quite enfeebled with age, and, it was said, ended his days in an asylum, under the protecting care of Sir Gilbert Elliot, Bart., at some place on the border near the Teviot, or on Tweedside.
If Bewick was correct in reporting that Jackson died while under the protection of Sir Gilbert Elliot, probably in a Poor Law institution, it is unlikely that the date could have been much later than 1777, the year in which Sir Gilbert died. This would place the meeting of both artists shortly before this time, when Bewick was in his early twenties (he was born in 1753). Sir Gilbert lived in Minto House, Roxburghshire, Scotland, but no evidence can be found for the supposition that Jackson died in the vicinity. No obituary has been discovered. The record of Jackson’s death, if it exists, probably lies in a parish register somewhere on the Scottish border.
Critical Opinion
In most histories of prints it was considered sufficient to note that certain artists worked in woodcut chiaroscuro; the quality of such work was rarely discussed. But Jackson was an exception: something about his prints aroused critics to defense or attack. The cleavage is absolute, strange for one who was presumably a mere reproductive artist. Nothing could show more clearly the unsettled nature of Jackson’s standing than a sampling of these opinions.
Horace Walpole in a letter, dated June 12, 1753, to Sir Horace Mann describing the furnishings in Strawberry Hill, commented:43
The bow window below leads into a little parlour hung with a stone-colour Gothic paper and Jackson’s Venetian prints, which I could never endure while they pretended, infamous as they are, to be after Titian, &c., but when I gave them this air of barbarous bas-reliefs, they succeeded to a miracle; it is impossible at first sight not to conclude that they contain the history of Attila or Tottila done about the very era.
Von Heinecken44 says they are “in the manner of Hugo da Carpi but much inferior in execution.” But Huber, Rost, and Martini45 noted Jackson’s independent approach:
Jackson’s prints, which are certainly not without merit, are in general less sought after by collectors than they deserve. His style is original and is concerned entirely with broad effects.
Baverel46 also had a high opinion of Jackson’s work. Describing the Venetian prints, he says that Jackson “had a skillful and daring attack, and it is regrettable that he did not produce more work.” Nagler’s47 criticism typifies the academic preconceptions of some writers on the subject of chiaroscuro:
Jackson’s works are not praiseworthy throughout in drawing, and also he was not thoroughly able to apply the principles of chiaroscuro correctly.... Yet we have several valuable prints from Jackson....
And Chatto48 remarks:
They are very unequal in point of merit; some of them appearing harsh and crude, and others flat and spiritless, when compared with similar products by the old Italian wood engravers.
With this verdict W. J. Linton49 disagrees, saying, “...Chatto underrates him. I find his works very excellent and effective. The Finding of Moses (2 feet high by 16 inches wide) and Virgin Climbing the Steps of the Temple (after Veronese), and others, are admirable in every respect....” Duplessis50 attacks the Venetian set heatedly and at length, yet he devotes more space to expounding Jackson’s deficiencies than to discussing the work of any other woodcut artist, even Dürer or da Carpi.
On the evidence we have, the new conception Jackson brought to printmaking was not fully understood until the 20th century. Pierre Gusman51 in 1916 probably first noted the technical distinction between Jackson’s work and earlier chiaroscuros.
He [Jackson] conceived his prints in a different way from the Italians, bringing in new aspects in accenting values and planes, because he did not reproduce drawings but interpreted paintings. The whites even show embossings in the paper to make the light vibrate, and a specially cut block is sometimes impressed to help in modeling the forms. Jackson, in short, very much the wood carver, combined the resources of the cameo with those of the chiaroscuro and produced curious works of combined techniques, but without equaling his predecessors, who were particularly remarkable for their simplicity of style and treatment.
One year later, in 1917, Max J. Friedländer52 commented that relief effects in block printing were not alien additions but natural consequences of the method. His main emphasis, we note, is on the Ricci prints.
A peculiarity of the color woodcut, which first was put up with as a characteristic of the technique but finally was enhanced and utilized fully as a means of expression, is the physical relief that stands out in thick and soft paper with the sharp pressure of die wood-blocks.... No one has employed the relief of the woodcut so consciously and artfully as the Englishman John Baptist Jackson in the eighteenth century, who, particularly in some landscapes, created most effective and richly colored sheets. He has gone so far as to express forms in “blind-printing,” entirely without bordering lines or contrasting colors, merely through relief pressing.
Anton Reichel’s important history of chiaroscuro, with its magnificent color plates in facsimile, appeared in 1926.53 He says of Jackson that his activity in chiaroscuro was “extraordinarily rich,” that he created broad approximations of his subjects which made him neglect details, but that these were “convincingly translated into the language of the woodcut.”
Five heroic landscapes after M. Ricci represent the artistic high point of his work, having a distinctive richness of color not previously attained by any other master of chiaroscuro. Each of the prints has a complete harmony of colors; the single color blocks—over ten can be counted in each print—which show in their separate tones the extraordinarily cultivated taste of the artist, give the composition a decorative effect far from any realistic imitation of nature.... The relief impressed with the blocks is so strong that, going beyond all other prior attempts of the kind, it represents an essential factor of the composition through its actual light-and-shadow effects.
Although by this time Jackson’s chiaroscuros were regarded with respect and his color prints were acknowledged to be of prime importance, some of the conservative wallpaper historians were still repelled by their vigor, which did not suit genteel notions of interior decoration. Sugden and Edmondson54 in 1925 certainly failed to understand both Jackson’s work and the period in which it was done. They comment:
Jackson’s bold claims to originality and merit are scarcely borne out by anything he is known to have achieved. That he had a vogue, however, seems certain, for apart from his “Essay” he has come down to us as a historical figure. To modern tastes in art many of his productions seem almost monstrous, and yet they were to some extent the expression of the time-spirit in which they were born.
Postscript
While Jackson had an influence on a small coterie, it did not prolong the life of the color woodcut. In Europe the medium did not survive his disappearance in 1755; no doubt it seemed to later artists intractable and lacking in nuance. The black-and-white woodcut, moreover, went into further decline and was almost entirely disregarded except for the rudest sort of work. Almost a century and a half were to pass before Gauguin and Munch swept aside old taboos and found exciting new possibilities for color in the woodcut process.
The lack of interest in the color woodcut was also the result of new techniques in the copper-plate media, techniques that could be adapted to color printing. In 1756 J. C. François introduced the crayon manner, an etching process that could imitate the effects of chalk and crayon drawings. During the following decades numerous technical variations were developed, the most popular being the pastel manner, the stipple, and the aquatint.
Of these methods only aquatint survived after early years of the 19th century. It was less limited than its companion processes and had wide application in rendering the effect of water-color wash. But color work in this medium, however attractive to a public that appreciated delicacy and charm, did not have mass appeal. The new audience created by the advancing Industrial Revolution wanted printed pictures of a less subtle type; they preferred imitations of sentimental, banal, story-telling oil paintings with a high, waxy finish. Neither aquatint nor other copper-plate media were suitable for these products, and color lithography did not receive serious attention until the late 1830’s. The wood engraving, which had inherited the function of the woodcut and which had greater flexibility in rendering tones and details, became the logical vehicle for the new color picture.
In this situation Jackson suddenly appeared as the pioneer, as the father of printed pictures based upon paintings in oil or water colors. His intention had been translation rather than imitation and he would have abhorred the feeble new product, but this did not concern his successors—they were interested only in his technical principles. Moreover, in their naïveté, they imagined they were improving on Jackson because their prints were counterfeit paintings while his were not.
The earliest picture printers therefore, used wood engraving. Among them were Frederich W. Gubitz of Berlin, who began the revival about 1815; William Savage55 of London, a printer who published a book describing his project in 1822; and George Baxter of London, whose work dates from about 1830. All started with chiaroscuro and moved to full color from a large number of wood blocks, although in 1836 Baxter began printing his transparent oil colors over a base of steel engraving reinforced with aquatint. Only Baxter persevered and was rewarded by sensational popular success. His glassy and trivial prints with their high sweet finish enjoyed a vogue among collectors that lasted into the 20th century. In about 1860, however, he was driven from the market by the rise of a cheaper medium, chromolithography, which was responsible in the next few decades for a universal outpouring of popular bathos. This was picture printing in color geared for the mass audience.
It may seem an anticlimax to trace the color woodcut from Jackson to Baxter, and finally to chromolithography, but it is not irrelevant. Although spurned by the better artists, color had too popular an appeal to be ignored. It was inescapable that Jackson’s successful technical procedures should finally be adopted and corrupted in the area of commerce.
Woodcut artists up to Jackson, with few exceptions, had used color for one major purpose, to reproduce drawings in line and tone. By enlarging the conception of the color woodcut Jackson brought the primitive chiaroscuro phase of its history to an end. After him, the chiaroscuro could not be practiced again except as an archaism.56 The way was open for the modern woodcut, although it was a long time in coming.
The range of Jackson’s work in tone and color exceeded that of all previous woodcutters and can be divided as follows: (1) chiaroscuros—after drawings, after paintings, after his own pen and ink drawings after paintings, interpretations of engravings and etchings, and interpretations of sculpture; and (2) full color—after paintings in gouache and after his own water colors. In addition he treated pictorial subjects in flat color areas without a key or outline block, a procedure used before him only by the 17th-century Chinese; and he combined burin work with knife cutting.
But Jackson’s reputation, in the long perspective, must rest upon his qualities as an artist. He had great distinction as a colorist but lacked originality as a designer and was dependent upon others, for the most part, for basic compositions. As an interpreter of these compositions, however, he was imaginative and forceful. He did not follow the example of most copper plate engravers and reproduce subjects faithfully; his conception of the woodcut as a frank medium precluded exact rendition. Except, possibly, for his first chiaroscuro, he always translated freely, with the aim of making good woodcuts rather than accurate representations of his subjects. Jackson’s work after others, in short, was consciously intended as artful approximation. This emphasis on the spirit rather than the letter, together with his novel techniques, often gave his prints a somewhat hybrid character—an ambiguous look that might serve to explain the uneasy feelings of many critics. But his largeness of feeling is unmistakable, and this is what finally places him among the masters.
The color woodcut is now an important form of printmaking. For this medium in the Western world, Jackson is the main ancestral figure.
Footnotes
1. The purist’s attitude was pungently expressed by Whistler. Pennell records this remark: “Black ink on white paper was good enough for Rembrandt; it ought to be good enough for you.” (Joseph Pennell, The Graphic Arts, Chicago, 1921, p. 178.)
2. The only earlier name is that of George Edwards. Oxford University has most of the blocks for a decorated alphabet he engraved on end-grain wood for Dr. Fell in 1674. Further data on Edwards can be found in Harry Carter’s Wolvercote Mill, Oxford, 1957, pp. 14, 15, 20, and in Moxon’s Mechanick Exercises, or the Doctrine of Handy Works Applied to the Art of Printing. (Reprint of 1st ed., 1683, edited and annotated by Herbert Davis and Harry Carter, Oxford, 1958, p. 26n.)
3. Jackson, London, 1754. Hereafter cited as Essay. Other references bearing directly on Jackson will receive only partial citation in the text. They are given in full in the bibliography, page 171.
4. Papillon, Paris, 1766. Hereafter cited as the Traité.
5. Occasional book illustrations in two or three colors, confined chiefly to initial letters and ornamental borders, appeared as early as the 15th century. Ratdolt in 1485 printed astronomical diagrams in red, orange, and black, and used similar colors in a Crucifixion in the Passau missal of 1494. The Liber selectarum cantionum of Senfel, 1520, however, has a frontispiece printed in a broad range of colors from more than four woodblocks. The design is attributed to Hans Weiditz.
6. Walpole, 1765 (1st ed. 1762), p. 3.
7. William Gilpin, An Essay on Prints, London, 1781 (1st ed. 1768), p. 47. “There are three kinds of prints, engravings, etchings, and mezzotintos.”
8. Maberly, 1844, p. 130.
9. Linton, 1889, p. 215. A woodcut in the German manner was far more difficult to manage than Linton imagined. Bewick tried to imitate the cross-hatched lines of a Dürer woodcut without success. He finally concluded (1925, pp. 205-207) that the old woodcutters had used two blocks, each with lines going in opposing directions, and had printed one over the other!
10. Adam Bartsch, Le Peintre graveur, Vienna, 1803-1821.
11. Andrea Andreani in 1599 published ten plates after cartoons of Mantegna’s nine paintings, The Triumph of Julius Caesar (B. 11), printed from four blocks in variations of gray. But Mantegna’s cartoons were basically drawings in monochrome, and Andreani’s fine chiaroscuros did not differ appreciably from the usual examples.
12. Papillon, 1766, vol. 1, p. 323. Most probably Papillon confused “Ekwits” with Elisha Kirkall.
13. Chatto and Jackson, 1861 (1st ed. 1839), p. 448.
14. Linton, 1889, p. 130.
15. London, 1752. Hereafter cited as the Enquiry. The first half deals with Jackson’s opinions on the origins of printing from movable type and the progress of cutting on wood, the second half with Jackson’s career and his venture into wallpaper manufacturing. The real content of the book was so little known that Bigmore and Wyman’s comprehensive, annotated Bibliography of Printing, London, 1880-86, vol. 1, p. 201, described it as dealing with “certain improvements in printing-types made by Jackson, the typefounder.”
16. Bewick, 1925 (1st ed. London, 1862), pp. 211-212.
17. The Petit almanach de Paris, founded by J. M. Papillon in 1727 and illustrated with his woodcuts.
18. Smith, 1755, p. 136.
19. See cuts in Dissertatiumeula quodlibetariis disputationibus of C. L. Berthollet, Paris, 1780, and Voyage littéraire de la Grèce, of de Guys, 1783.
20. P. 415. This may be the print formerly in Dresden but lost during the war.
21. Recueil d’estampes d’après les plus beaux tableaux et d’après les plus beaux dessins qui sont en France dans le cabinet du Roy, dans celui de M. le Duc d’Orléans et dans d’autres cabinets, divisé suivant les différentes écoles. Paris, 1729-42, 2 vols., 182 plates. Often called the Cabinet Crozat, it was reprinted by Basan in 1763 with aquatint tones by François Charpentier replacing the woodblock tints.
22. Imperatorum imagines, Antwerp, 1557. The woodblocks were cut by Josse Geitleugen.
23. In the Enquiry (p. 31) Jackson asserts that Kirkall’s tints were made from copper plates, not woodblocks.
24. Zanetti certainly cut many of his own blocks, as the prints with the signature “A. M. Zanetti, sculp.” attest. But he also made use of craftsmen in the traditional fashion for other blocks and for the mechanical phase of printing.
25. These cuts were also used for the Biblia Sacra, published by Hertz in Venice in 1740.
26. Papillon, vol. 2, 1766, pp. 372-373.
27. Bewick, 1925, p. 213.
28. The Neptune was printed on a type press. One of the blocks split in printing and Jackson stated that thereafter he used the cylinder press exclusively.
29. Jackson mentioned that he was seen drawing the blocks in the presence of Sir Roger Newdigate, Sir Bouchier Wrey “and other gentlemen of distinction.” The reason for such reference was probably some comment that he might have traced his outlines from Agostino Carracci’s 1582 engraving of the same subject in three large sheets (B. 23), each of which joins the others at precisely the same places as Jackson’s sheets. I am indebted to Dr. Jakob Rosenberg of the Fogg Museum for pointing out these similarities.
30. Enquiry, p. 35. The Japanese began to use embossing about 1730. See Reichel, 1926, p. 48.
31. Altdorfer’s Beautiful Virgin of Ratisbon, about 1520, (B. 51, vol. 8, p. 78) made use of five colors in some impressions (Lippmann describes one with seven colors) but these were used primarily for decorative, not naturalistic purposes.
32. Laurence Binyon, A Catalogue of Japanese & Chinese Woodcuts in the British Museum, London, 1916, p. xx, introduction.
33. Zanetti, 1792, pp. 689, 716.
34. Zanotto, 1856, p. 320, note 3.
35. Gallo, 1941, pp. 23-23. Jackson’s blocks are not listed in the Remondini catalog of 1817.
36. Vol. 22, pp. 77-79.
37. There is little doubt that Jackson meant Francesco Simonini (1686-1753), a painter of battle subjects who was born in Parma and lived in Venice in the 1740’s.
38. Hardie, 1906, p. 23.
39. Oman, 1929, p. 33.
40. An excellent description of the papers of this type imported to America is given by Edna Donnell in Metropolitan Museum Studies 1932, vol. 4, pp. 77-108.
41. British Museum Add. mss. 6210.
42. Bewick, 1925, pp. 213-214.
43. The Letters of Horace Walpole, ed. Toynbee, 1903, vol. 3, p. 166.
44. Von Heinecken, 1771, p. 94.
45. Huber, Rost, and Martini, 1808, vol. 9, pp. 121-123.
46. Baverel, 1807, vol. 1, pp. 341-342.
47. Künstler-Lexicon, op. cit.
48. Chatto and Jackson, 1861, p. 455.
49. Linton, 1889, p. 214. The second print mentioned is after Titian, not Veronese.
50. Duplessis, 1880, pp. 314-315. Duplessis, who was conservateur-adjoint in the Cabinet des Estampes of the Bibliothèque Nationale, no doubt based his judgment on the impressions in that collection. Certainly few of these were printed by either Jackson or Pasquali.
51. Gusman, 1916, pp. 164, 165.
52. Friedländer, 1926 (1st ed. 1917), pp. 224-226.
53. Reichel, 1926, p. 48.
54. Sugden and Edmondson, 1925, p. 71.
55. Savage, 1822. Jackson’s pioneer work is acknowledged, pp. 15-16.
56. Only one moderately important chiaroscurist can be mentioned, John Skippe, who worked in England from the 1770’s to about 1810.