'Woodpecker' Bewick – and follower Beckwith

Nick Jones traces a finely carved line in the wood

I'M TWELVE MILES inland from Newcastle, looking down on the River Tyne from Cherryburn, the birthplace of Northumberland's most famous xylographer, the "woodpecker" Thomas Bewick.

Sure enough, there's the cherry tree, and the burn, albeit dry this summer. Born in August 1753, he lived until 1828, through seven decades that saw England transformed by mechanisation and industrialisation. All powered by coal hewed from subterranean seams, like those between Tyne and Tees, including beneath his feet and, now, standing here, mine.

I'm struck by three outstanding qualities of this place. First, the Tyne valley is a natural boundary between the north and south of Britain, just south of Hadrian's Wall. More symbolic than practical really, but some think Scotland starts north of it. They're not wrong, just a few miles too far south!

Second, this river is just one of several thoroughfares linking east to west, Tyne to Solway, alongside Roman Stanegate: the Newcastle-Carlisle Railway, opened in 1835; the A69 trunk road; and the western flightpath to Newcastle airport.

There have even been plans to cut a ship-canal through, saving the long and stormy passage round Cape Wrath.

Thirdly? Cherryburn's simple rurality and peace; an oasis of calm amidst the rush and hurly-burly of modern life.

Bewick is a fine woodcarver, some would say the finest, and in both senses of the word too. Boxwood's close grain, carved end on, across the annual rings, enabled him to engrave very precise lines, delineating his subject in great detail, with extraordinary subtleties and variations of tone. He was a great naturalist too, observing, drawing, painting and carving illustrations for his two volume "History of British Birds", and "A General History of Quadrupeds".

He's much more than that. Preliminary sketches and watercolours show an accomplished artist, revealing the character of a bird; the self-confidence of the starling, the robin's alert aggression. One sadness is that so many of these birds are rare, endangered, gone, or enigmatic, like the "Lesser Imber" and the "Cinerous Godwit".

A keen observer of human nature, and quite a rascal as a lad, he delighted in illustrating "Aesop's Fables", along with his own wrily humorous "tale-pieces", like the one about the tight-fisted farmer who forced his cow to ford the fast-flowing Tyne rather than pay the toll at nearby Ovingham bridge. Both made it, but the farmer's hat floated downstream – much more expensive to replace than a toll!

It would be easy to dismiss Bewick as a relic of the past, a curiosity of art history, with nothing of interest or relevance to tell us about his world or ours, but that would do him an injustice.

His message to us is clearer and more urgent by the day: value nature and the countryside; keep in "touch", quite literally, with the skill and pleasure of handiwork, working with your hands; live and work slowly, being in the moment, or you risk missing the important things in life – a ladybird on a leaf, a caterpillar, the sound of the curlew, and the peace that comes with patient observation.

Recognition of Bewick's legacy owes much to that great north-easterner, Dr Frank Atkinson, founder of Beamish, recently announced as Artfund Museum of the Year 2025. Atkinson also established the Thomas Bewick Birthplace Trust in 1987, handing it over to the National Trust in 1990.

Today the tradition of woodcarving established by Bewick is supported by the Society of Wood Engravers, whose former chairman, Chris Daunt, has an exhibition at Cherryburn – "Beasts, Bewick and Me". He's just published "The Art and Craft of Wood Engraving".

The slow, contemplative discipline of carving seems to have an affinity with the religious life, so it's no surprise that, after being taught letter carving, he spent some time as a Cistercian monk.

As it happens I'm with a former Franciscan monk, Andrew Beckwith, friend and neighbour in north Northumberland. We've just visited Ovingham church, across the Tyne, where Bewick is buried. Andrew, a woodcarver, like father and grandfather before him, is doing a reccy for carving a "peal-board", a commemorative panel celebrating the ringing of a particular peal, like "Yorkshire Surprise Major", or "Stedman Caters".

Once he's accepted a commission, and visited the church, he draws up the design and layout of the lettering to be gouged out on an oak board, before incorporating intricate coloured heraldic details in limewood.

Fortunately there are "Beckwith Peal-Boards" in churches across the country, including Hexham Abbey, Bampton, Newton Hall and, soon, here at Ovingham. Andrew's a bell-ringer too, so definitely the right man for the job, but he's not getting any younger, and skilled letter-carvers are few and far between. Good news, then, that he has found an apprentice.

Long live tintinnabulation!

www.chrisdaunt.com
www.bewicksociety.org