English Illustration 'The Sixties': 1855-70: With Numerous Illustrations by Ford Madox Brown: A. Boyd Houghton: Arthur Hughes: Charles Keene: M. J. Lawless: Lord Leighton, P.R.A.: Sir J. E. Millais, P.R.A.: G. Du Maurier: J. W. North, R.A.: G. J. Pinwell: Dante Gabriel Rossetti: W. Small: Frederick Sandys: J. Mcneill Whistler: Frederick Walker, A.R.A.: and Others

In Short

This volume is a detailed, critical bibliography tracking the rapid rise and peak of British book and magazine illustration between 1855 and 1870. Author Gleeson White surveys the major serials, gift books, and literary editions of the era, cataloging the work of artists such as Sir J. E. Millais, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, John Tenniel, and Frederick Sandys. By mapping individual woodcuts across forgotten periodicals and celebrated volumes, the text documents a period when fine art and commercial printing briefly merged, showing how meticulous draughtsmanship elevated everyday print media into enduring art.

The Story

The narrative of the book traces the golden age of mid-Victorian wood-block illustration from its emergence in the mid-1850s to its eventual dilution by process-work in 1870. The argument opens with an evaluation of the collector's landscape, establishing that the finest achievements of British illustration lie hidden within affordable, mass-produced periodicals and poetry anthologies rather than high-priced art editions. The historical progression begins around 1855, marked by seminal publications like William Allingham’s Day and Night Songs and the Moxon edition of Tennyson’s Poems. These works introduced a radical pre-Raphaelite intensity to the printed page, setting a benchmark for draughtsmanship.

As the chronicle advances into the early 1860s, the focus shifts to the explosion of illustrated monthly and weekly magazines, most notably Once a Week, Good Words, and The Cornhill Magazine. These serials provided a steady platform for master artists. The high-water mark of this movement arrives in 1863 with Sir J. E. Millais’s twelve designs for The Parables, described as flawless masterpieces of composition and emotional weight. During these peak years, artists worked directly on the wooden block, collaborating closely with skilled engravers like the Dalziel brothers and Joseph Swain to produce work of extraordinary depth.

The latter half of the text charts the expansion of illustration into specialized church journals, cheap popular weeklies, and elaborate holiday gift books, such as Dalziels' Arabian Nights and various poetry collections. However, as the record approaches 1870, the arc turns toward decline. The author details the technical experiments that began to displace traditional hand-engraving, such as graphotype—a process where silicate ink hardened chalk surfaces to create printable relief plates—and early photographic transfers.

The closing section demonstrates how these mechanical innovations freed the artist from drawing directly on wood, but simultaneously opened the door to rapid, lower-quality commercial reproduction. By 1870, with the founding of The Graphic, the distinct, painstaking style of "The Sixties" had drawn to a close, leaving behind a monumental body of work scattered across fragile paper volumes.

How It Unfolds

The collector's field defined The study opens by setting out the practicalities of gathering Victorian illustrated books, advising on low market costs, methods for mounting loose prints on brown paper, and the necessity of leaving complete volumes intact.

The pre-Raphaelite spark The narrative moves to the mid-1850s, highlighting Rossetti’s revolutionary design for Allingham’s Day and Night Songs and the Moxon Tennyson as the initial impetus that elevated book illustration into a serious artistic medium.

The magazine explosion The survey details the boom of serial literature in the early 1860s, tracking how journals like Once a Week and Good Words offered weekly platforms for artists like John Tenniel, Frederick Walker, and A. Boyd Houghton.

The summit of the craft The narrative reaches its apex in 1863 with Millais’s celebrated series The Parables, examining how these twelve drawings represented the absolute height of poetic realism and wood-engraving technique.

Technical shifts and decline The final chapters cover the late 1860s and 1870, analyzing experimental reprographic techniques like graphotype and photomechanical processes that gradually replaced hand-cut woodblocks and signaled the end of the era.

The People

Sir J. E. Millais The central titan of the movement, Millais represents the absolute summit of sixties illustration. He seeks to bring high artistic realism to popular literature, achieving his goal through his monumental twelve designs for The Parables in 1863, which set an unsurpassed standard for black-and-white draughtsmanship.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti The initial visionary founder of the decade's style, Rossetti produced only ten key drawings on wood, including his famous design for Elfen-mere. His intense, poetic, and meticulous approach provided the original aesthetic spark that a whole generation of younger decorative illustrators continuously borrowed from.

Frederick Sandys A master of uncompromising line and detail who fought constantly against the limitations of the wood-cutter. Though he produced a small body of work, his drawings like Danae and Sleep were widely revered by fellow artists for their sheer power and technical perfection.

John Tenniel The quintessential representative of the academic tradition, Tenniel stands somewhat apart from the pre-Raphaelites. Best known for his political cartoons and work on The Silver Cord, his distinct, sharp style maintained a strong, recognizable presence across the decade's fiction and satirical periodicals.

In Its Own Voice

"It is at most a roughly annotated, tentative catalogue like those issued for art critics on press-days with the superscription 'under revision'--an equivalent of the legal reservation 'without prejudice.'"

Gleeson White offers this modest assessment of his own exhaustive bibliographical effort in the book's preface.

"To call these twelve pictures masterpieces is for once to apply consistently a term often misused."

The author evaluates Millais's famous 1863 illustrations for The Parables published in Good Words.

"My drawing was most perfectly cut by Swain, from my point of view, the best piece of wood-cutting of our time..."

Frederick Sandys reflects on the meticulous craft required to translate an artist's line onto a woodblock.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book argues that true artistic genius often flourishes in ephemeral, commercial formats rather than prestigious galleries. It explores the tension between rapid technological progress and fine craftsmanship, showing how the desire for faster, cheaper printing eventually killed the very art form it sought to multiply. The text raises fundamental questions about value in art: why mass-produced magazine cuts can hold far more genuine poetic spirit than costly, pretentious luxury volumes, and how a short-lived cultural consensus between author, artist, and wood-engraver briefly turned the printed page into an extraordinary gallery for the general public.

Why Read It Today

This book remains an indispensable, highly grounded resource for print collectors, art historians, and anyone fascinated by Victorian visual culture. Reading it feels like browsing through a dusty, well-curated print room alongside a guide who possesses an infectious knowledge of mid-nineteenth-century publishing. The text avoids grand theoretical posturing, choosing instead to focus on the tangible reality of the printed page—the quality of the paper, the precision of the engraver’s tool, and the subtle lines of a block cut over a century ago.

It is honest about the formidable complexities of its subject matter. Readers must navigate exhaustive catalog lists, long roll calls of obscure engravers, and minute bibliographic citations across forgotten periodicals. Yet, what stays with you is the author's passionate insistence on looking closely at small things. It inspires a deep respect for the forgotten craftsmen who labored over tiny blocks of boxwood to bring extraordinary beauty into everyday Victorian homes.