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Title: The Invention of Printing. - A Collection of Facts and Opinions, Descriptive of Early Prints and Playing Cards, the Block-Books of the Fifteenth Century, the Legend of Lourens Janszoon Coster, of Haarlem, and the Work of John Gutenberg and His Associates
Author: De Vinne, Theodore Low
Language: English
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THE INVENTION OF PRINTING.
THE INVENTION OF PRINTING.
A Collection of Facts and Opinions
Descriptive of
Early Prints and Playing Cards,
the Block-Books of the Fifteenth Century,
the Legend of Lourens Janszoon Coster, of Haarlem,
and His Associates.
Illustrated
with Fac-Similes of Early Types and Wood-Cuts.
by
THEO. L. DE VINNE.
* * ‹f›Hereby tongues are knowne, knowledge groweth, judgement
encreaseth, books are dispersed, the Scripture is seene, the doctors
be read, stories be opened, times compared, truth discerned, falshood
detected, and with finger pointed, and all, as I said, through the
benefit of Printing.‹/f› _Fox’s Acts and Monuments._
New-York:
Francis Hart & Co. 12 & 14 College Place.
1876.
Entered, According to Act of Congress, in the Year 1876, by
Theodore L. De Vinne,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.
TO
DAVID WOLFE BRUCE,
IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT
OF INSTRUCTION ABOUT TYPES, NOT TO BE HAD BY READING,
OF ASSISTANCE IN STUDIES, NOT TO BE FOUND IN PUBLIC LIBRARIES,
OF COMPANIONSHIP MORE PLEASANT THAN BOOKS,
THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
BY HIS FRIEND,
THEO. L. DE VINNE.
CONTENTS.
I THE DIFFERENT METHODS OF PRINTING . . . 17
II ANTIQUE METHODS OF IMPRESSION AND THEIR FAILURE . . . 29
III THE KEY TO THE INVENTION OF TYPOGRAPHY . . . 49
IV THE IMAGE PRINTS OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY . . . 69
V PRINTED AND STENCILED PLAYING CARDS . . . 88
VI THE CHINESE METHOD OF PRINTING . . . 109
VII THE EARLY PRINTING OF ITALY . . . 122
VIII THE INTRODUCTION OF PAPER IN EUROPE . . . 133
IX THE BOOK-MAKERS OF THE MIDDLE AGES . . . 146
X THE PREPARATIONS FOR PRINTING . . . 171
XI BLOCK-BOOKS OF IMAGES WITHOUT TEXT . . . 193
XII BLOCK-BOOKS OF IMAGES WITH TEXT . . . 230
XIII THE DONATUS, OR BOY’S LATIN GRAMMAR . . . 254
XIV THE SPECULUM SALUTIS, OR MIRROR OF SALVATION . . . 264
XV THE WORKS AND WORKMANSHIP OF AN UNKNOWN PRINTER . . . 282
XVI THE PERIOD IN WHICH THE SPECULUM WAS PRINTED . . . 308
XVII THE LEGEND OF LOURENS JANSZOON COSTER . . . 326
XVIII THE GROWTH OF THE LEGEND . . . 347
XIX THE DOWNFALL OF THE LEGEND . . . 360
XX JOHN GUTENBERG AT STRASBURG . . . 375
XXI GUTENBERG AND HIS EARLIER WORK AT MENTZ . . . 403
XXII THE LATER WORK OF GUTENBERG . . . 431
XXIII THE WORK OF PETER SCHŒFFER AND JOHN FUST . . . 449
XXIV ALLEGED INVENTORS OF PRINTING . . . 480
XXV THE SPREAD OF PRINTING . . . 492
XXVI THE TOOLS AND USAGES OF THE FIRST PRINTERS . . . 514
AUTHORITIES CONSULTED . . . 543
INDEX . . . 547
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Statue of John Gutenberg . . . Frontispiece.
Surface Exposed to Impression by Copper-plate method . . . 21
Surface Inked and Exposed to Impression by Typographic method . . . 21
Surface Exposed to Impression by Lithographic method . . . 21
Face of a large Type, showing how the Letter is placed on the body
. . . 24
Side view of Canon body . . . 25
Small Pica, Agate and Diamond body . . . 25
View of body inclined to show the face . . . 25
Stamped Brick from Babylon . . . 30
Fac-simile of Impression on brick . . . 31
Egyptian Stamp for impressing bricks . . . 32
Assyrian Cylinder . . . 34
Old Roman Stamps . . . 37
Roman Stamps . . . 38
Roman Scrinium and rolls of papyrus . . . 43
Types of Irregular Body . . . 52
Punch . . . 55
Matrix . . . 55
Illustrations of Type-bodies . . . 56
Type-Mould, without matrix . . . 57
One-half of the Mould . . . 57
The other half of the Mould . . . 57
Type-casting as practised in 1683 . . . 59
Type-casting as practised in 1564 . . . 62
Print of St. Christopher . . . 70
Print of the Annunciation . . . 72
Print of St. Bridget . . . 74
Flemish Indulgence Print . . . 76
Brussels Print . . . 79
Berlin Print . . . 81
Playing Card of the fifteenth century . . . 93
Print Colorer . . . 94
Engraver on Wood . . . 95
Chinese Playing Cards . . . 99
Early French Playing Cards . . . 103
French and German Playing Cards of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries . . . 105
Fac-simile of part of a Chinese Book . . . 117
Chinese Types made in London . . . 117
Mark of Jacobus Arnoldus, 1345 . . . 123
Mark of Johannes Meynersen, 1435 . . . 123
Mark of Adam de Walsokne, 1349 . . . 125
Mark of Edmund Pepyr, 1483 . . . 125
Mark of an unknown person . . . 125
Japanese Method of Making Paper . . . 135
Paper-Mill of the sixteenth century . . . 140
Scriptorium of the middle ages . . . 149
Penmanship of the ninth century . . . 150
Manuscript of the fifteenth century . . . 152
Medieval Bookbinding . . . 153
Medieval Illuminator . . . 154
Sumptuously Bound Book . . . 156
Medieval Book with covers of oak . . . 157
Book Cover in Ivory, Byzantine style . . . 158
Seal of the University of Paris . . . 161
English Horn-Book . . . 174
English Clog . . . 175
Holbein’s Dance of Death . . . 183
Dance of Death, as shown in the Nuremberg Chronicle . . . 185
Last page of the Bible of the Poor . . . 197
First page of the Bible of the Poor, as made by Walther and Hurning
. . . 209
First page of the Apocalypse . . . 213
First page of the Canticles . . . 217
Story of the Blessed Virgin . . . 221
Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer . . . 223
Illustration from the Book of Kings . . . 225
Letter K of Grotesque Alphabet . . . 227
Page from the Apostles’ Creed . . . 228
Page from the Eight Rogueries . . . 229
Page from the Antichrist . . . 232
Page from the Ars Memorandi . . . 234
Page from the Ars Moriendi . . . 237
Chiromancy of Doctor Hartlieb . . . 240
Calendar of John of Gamundia . . . 242
Page from the Wonders of Rome . . . 243
Pomerium Spirituale . . . 244
Temptations of the Devil . . . 245
Life of St. Meinrat . . . 246
Heidelberg Dance of Death . . . 247
German Donatus, from a block in the National Library at Paris . . . 258
Fragment of an early Donatus . . . 259
Early Dutch Horarium . . . 260
Imprint of Conrad Dinckmut . . . 262
First page of Speculum Salutis . . . 266
Last page of Speculum Salutis . . . 268
Types of Speculum Salutis . . . 277
Types in third edition of Speculum . . . 285
Types of Fables of Lorenzo Valla . . . 286
Types of Peculiarities of Criminal Law . . . 287
Types of Epitaphs of Pope Pius II . . . 288
The Enschedé Abecedarium . . . 290
Experimental Letters drawn on wood . . . 294
Types from Experimental Letters . . . 295
Frisket, Tympan and Bed of an early European Printing Press . . . 307
Paper-marks: seven illustrations . . . 309, 310
Types of Jacob Bellaert . . . 319
Types of John Brito . . . 321
Map of the Netherlands . . . 323
Scriverius’ Portrait of Coster . . . 333
Statue of Coster in Doctors’ Garden . . . 351
Medals in honor of Coster . . . 353, 354
Statue of Coster on the monument . . . 359
Autograph of Laurens Janszoon . . . 361
House of Coster . . . 370
Portrait of Laurens Janszoon Coster . . . 371
Spurious Portrait by Van den Berg . . . 372
Portrait attributed to Van Oudewater . . . 372
The Laurens Janszoon of Meerman . . . 373
Medieval Press . . . 395
Type-mould of Claude Garamond . . . 399
Types of the Donatus attributed to Gutenberg at Strasburg . . . 401
Types of Donatus of 1451 . . . 405
De la Borde’s Illustration of Types . . . 406
Holbein’s Satire on the Indulgences . . . 407
Letter of Indulgence dated 1454 . . . 409
Types of Bible of 36 Lines . . . 413
Abbreviations of Bible of 36 Lines . . . 414
Portrait of John Fust . . . 417
Types of Bible of 42 Lines . . . 423
Portrait of John Gutenberg . . . 429
Types of Letter of Indulgence of 1461 . . . 433
Types of Catholicon of 1460 . . . 435
Types of Celebration of the Mass . . . 437
Types of Mirror of the Clergy . . . 438
Colophon written by Peter Schœffer . . . 450
Types of the Psalter of 1457 . . . 453
Colophon of the Psalter of 1457 . . . 455
Types of the Rationale Durandi . . . 461
Types of the Bible of 1462 . . . 462
Trade-mark of Fust and Schœffer . . . 462
Types of Constitutions of Clement V . . . 463
Portrait of Peter Schœffer . . . 469
Types of the Grammar of 1468 . . . 470
Illustration from the Book of Fables . . . 483
Arms of the Typothetæ . . . 489
Part of Koburger’s Map of Europe . . . 496
The Birth of Eve, Zainer’s . . . 497
Statue of Gutenberg at Strasburg . . . 509
Type of the fifteenth century . . . 520
Printing Office of sixteenth century . . . 523
Hand Press of Jodocus Badius . . . 528
Inking Balls of sixteenth century . . . 530
Large wood-cut of fifteenth century . . . 535
The Fall of Lucifer, Zainer’s . . . 537
A Print of 1475 . . . 539
_PREFACE._
_The Invention of Printing has always been recognized by educated
men as a subject of importance: there is no mechanical art, nor are
there any of the fine arts, about whose early history so many books
have been written. The subject is as mysterious as it is inviting.
There is an unusual degree of obscurity about the origin of the first
printed books and the lives and works of the early printers. There are
records and traditions which cannot be reconciled of at least three
distinct inventions of printing. Its early history is entangled with a
controversy about rival inventors which has lasted for more than three
centuries, and is not yet fully determined._
_In the management of this controversy, a subject intrinsically
attractive has been made repulsive. The history of the invention of
printing has been written to please national pride. German authors
assert the claims of Gutenberg, and discredit traditions about Coster.
Dutch authors insist on the priority of Coster, and charge Gutenberg
with stealing the invention. Partisans on each side say that their
opponents have perverted the records and suppressed the truth. The
quarrel has spread. English and French authors, who had no national
prejudices to gratify, and who should have considered the question
without passion, have wrangled over the subject with all the bitterness
of Germans or Hollanders. In this, as in other quarrels, there are
amusing features, but to the general reader the controversy seems
unfortunate and is certainly wearisome._
_It is a greater misfortune that all the early chronicles of printing
were written in a dead language. Wolf’s collection [p010] of_
Typographic Monuments, _which includes nearly every paper of
value written before 1740, is in Latin; the valuable books of Meerman,
Maittaire, and Schoepflin are also in Latin. To the general reader
these are sealed books: to the student, who seeks exact knowledge of
the methods of the first printers, they are tiresome books. Written
for the information of librarians rather than of printers, it is but
proper that these books should devote the largest space to a review
of the controversy or to a description of early editions; but it is
strange that they should so imperfectly describe the construction and
appearance of early types and the usages of the early printers. The
mechanical features of typography were, apparently, neglected as of
little importance, and beneath the dignity of history._
_A failure to present accurate illustrations of early printing is not
the fault of modern authorities. Many of them are full of fac-similes
bearing the marks of minute and conscientious care; but they are
in foreign languages, and are seldom found in our largest American
libraries. There are, it is true, a few books in English on early
printing which have accurate fac-similes; but high prices and limited
editions put them out of the reach of the ordinary book-buyer. They
were written by and for librarians only._
_Valuable as all these books are, they disappoint the printer. Some of
them, though presenting fac-similes in profusion, are not accompanied
with proper explanations in the text: others are devoted to one branch
only of early printing, such as block-books, or the printed work of one
nation only. Two of them are untrustworthy as authorities. Neither from
one book, nor from all the books, can a printer get a clear description
of the mechanical development of typography. This incompleteness was
frankly acknowledged by Dr. Dibdin, when he said that there was no
work in the English language which deserved to be considered as a
complete general history of printing. This was an old complaint. Nearly
a hundred years before, Prosper Marchand had said that the history of
printing, voluminous as it then seemed, was but history in fragments._
[p011]
_The first attempt to supply this great deficiency was made by
August Bernard, in the disquisition published at Paris, in the year
1853, under the title,_ De l’origine et des debuts de l’imprimerie
en Europe. _His was the first book in which the printed work
attributed to Coster and Gutenberg was critically examined from a
typographic point of view. To readers who were not content with the
vague descriptions of popular books of typography, the explanations
of Bernard were of peculiar value. I had reason to think that a
translation of the history of this eminent printer would be received by
American printers with some measure of the favor which the original had
met with in Europe. Impressed with this belief I began the work._
_I found it necessary to consult many of Bernard’s authorities. My
admiration of the superior method and forcible style of Bernard, an
admiration still unabated, was increased by the reading of the new
books; but the esteem in which I hold his valuable work does not
prevent the regret that, in his entire neglect of the block-books, he
should have overlooked the most significant feature of early printing.
The fac-similes of early prints, subsequently shown in_ The Infancy
of Book Printing _of Weigel and in_ The Typographic Monuments _of
Holtrop, convinced me that the earliest practice of typography had its
beginning in a still earlier practice of printing from blocks, and
that a description of block-books should precede a description of the
invention of types._
_Since these books were written, all the old theories about the origin
of typography have been examined with increased interest, and discussed
with superior critical ability, by many eminent European scholars.
Discoveries of great importance have been made; old facts have been set
forth in new lights; traditions accepted as truthful history for three
hundred years have been demolished. Of the many able men who have been
engaged in this task of separating truth from fiction, no one has done
more efficient service than Dr. A. Van der Linde of The Hague, whose
papers on the traditions of typography are masterpieces of acute and
scholarly criticism. His researches [p012] and reasoning convinced
me that it would be unwise to offer a translation of any previously
published book as a fair exponent of modern knowledge about early
typography. The newly discovered facts were opposed to early teachings;
there could be no sewing of the new cloth on the old garment. I was led
away from my first purpose of translation, and, almost unconsciously,
began to collect the materials for the present volume._
_Until recently, the invention of printing has been regarded as a
subject belonging almost entirely to bibliographers. The opinions
of type-founders and printers who had examined old books have been
set aside as of no value, whenever they were opposed to favorite
theories or legends. This partial treatment of the subject is no
longer approved: a new school of criticism invites experts to examine
the books, and pays respect to their conclusions. It claims that
the internal evidences of old books are of higher authority than
legends, and that these evidences are conclusive, not to be ignored
nor accommodated to the statements of the early chroniclers. European
critics do not hesitate to say that the confusing and contradictory
descriptions of the origin of printing are largely due to the improper
deference heretofore paid to the statements of men who tried to
describe processes which they did not understand. They say, also, that
too little attention has been paid to the types and mechanics of early
printing. Criticisms of this character led me to indulge the hope that
I might find gleanings of value in the old field, and that it would be
practicable to present them, with the newly discovered facts, in a form
which would be acceptable to the printer and the general reader. In
this belief, and for this purpose, this book was written._
_I would not have begun this work, if I had not felt assured that a
thorough revision of the subject was needed. The books and papers
on typography which are most popular, and are still accepted as
authoritative by the ordinary reader, repeat legends which have
recently been proved untrue; they narrate, as established facts
of history, methods of printing which are not only incorrect but
impossible. It is time that the results of [p013] the more recent
researches should be published in the English language. But I offer
them only as the compiler of accredited facts: I have no original
discoveries to announce, no speculative theories to uphold. Nor
shall I invade the proper field of librarians and bibliographers. I
propose to describe old types, prints and books as they are seen by a
printer, and with reference to the needs of printers and the general
reader, avoiding, as far as I can, all controversies about matters
which are of interest to book-collectors only. The historical part of
the record will be devoted chiefly to the printed work of the first
half of the fifteenth century. It will begin with descriptions of the
earliest forms of printing, as shown in image prints, playing cards
and block-books; it will end with the establishment of typography in
Germany._
_Believing that a verbal description of old books and prints, without
pictorial illustrations, would be unsatisfactory, I have provided many
fac-similes of early printing. No part of this work will more fully
repay examination than its illustrations, which have been carefully
selected from approved authorities, or from originals. Reproduced
by the new process of photo-engraving, they are accurate copies of
the originals, even when of reduced size. As they are printed with
the descriptive text by the same method of typographic presswork, it
is believed that they will more clearly illustrate the subject than
lithographed fac-similes on straggling leaves._
_In trying to make plain whatever may be obscure about the mechanics
of printing, I have thought proper to begin the explanation with a
description of its different methods. An introduction of this nature is
not an unwarrantable digression. It is important that the reader should
have an understanding of the radical differences between typography and
xylography on the one side, and lithographic and copper-plate printing
on the other, as well as some knowledge of the construction and uses of
the more common tools of type-founders._
_I do not propose to give any extended quotations in foreign languages.
Wherever an approved translation in English has [p014] been found, it
has been substituted for the original text; where translations have
not been approved, they have been made anew. Writing for the general
reader, I have assumed that he would prefer, as I do, in every book to
be read and not studied, a version in English rather than the original
text. Believing that the frequent citation of authorities, especially
in instances where the facts are undisputed, or where the books are
inaccessible, is an annoyance, I have refrained from the presentation
of foot-notes which refer to books only. I have, in a few cases,
deviated from this course where the matters stated were of a character
which seemed to require the specification of authority._
_One of the greatest impediments I encountered when about to begin
the compilation of this work was the difficulty of access to books of
authority. I do not mention this in disparagement of the management
of our public libraries, for I know that old books are liable to
injury in the hands of the merely curious, and that librarians have
little encouragement to collect scarce books on typography. To prove
that there is small inquiry for treatises of this character, it is
enough to say that I have had to cut open the leaves of valuable books
after their rest for many years on the shelves of one of the largest
libraries of this city. But if these books were ever so abundant, the
proper restrictions placed on their use were a hindrance to one whose
chief opportunity for consulting them is at night._
_Here I am pleased to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. David
Wolfe Bruce. He has not only accompanied and aided me in repeated
examinations of his very valuable collection of fifteenth century
books, but has lent me all the books I desired, and has freely given me
unlimited time for their study. This collection—replete with all the
books of authority I needed, with specimens of types, wood-cuts, and
curiosities of type-founding, which illustrate the growth of printing
from its infancy—was more admirably adapted to my needs than that
of any library on this Continent. Deprived of Mr. Bruce’s generous
assistance, my work would have been greatly restricted in its scope,
and shorn of its best features of illustration._ [p015]
_I began this work intending to describe only the mechanical
development of early printing, but I could not keep the matter strictly
within this limit. Hedged in this narrow space, the story would be
but half told. The true origin of typography is not in types, nor in
block-books nor image prints. These were consequences, not causes. The
condition of society at the close of the middle ages; the growth of
commerce and manufactures; the enlarged sense of personal liberty; the
brawls of ecclesiastics in high station, and their unworthy behavior;
the revolt of the people against the authority of church and state;
the neglect of duty by the self-elected teachers of the people in
their monopoly of books and knowledge; the barrenness of the education
then given in the schools; the eagerness of all people for the mental
diversion offered in the new game of playing cards; the unsatisfied
religious appetite which hungered for image prints and devotional
books; the facilities for self-education afforded by the introduction
of paper,—these were among the influences which produced the invention
of printing. They are causes which cannot be overlooked. My inability
to describe them with the fullness which they deserve would not
justify their total neglect. I have devoted more space to them than is
customary in treatises on early printing, but I have to admit, with
regret, that they have been too curtly treated. I have done but little
more than record a few of the more noticeable facts—enough, perhaps,
to show that the state of education and society, in its relation to
the invention of printing, deserves a more extended description than
it has hitherto received. If I can succeed in awakening the attention
of printers, and those who look on a knowledge of printing as a proper
accomplishment of the scholar, to the nature and extent of these
influences, to the curiosities of literature hidden in apparently
dry books of bibliography, and to the value of the lesson of patient
industry and fixed purpose taught by the life of John Gutenberg, the
object of this book will have been accomplished._
[p017]
I
The Different Methods of Printing.
Impression is used in many Arts . . . Printing implies the use of
Ink and Paper . . . Four Methods of Printing . . . Steel-plate or
Copper-plate, the artistic method . . . Lithography, the scientific
method . . . Typography, the useful method . . . Xylography, the
primitive method . . . Illustrations of Copper-plate and Lithographic
Printing Surfaces . . . Process of Copper-plate Printing . . . Its
Merits and its Defects . . . Process of Lithographic Printing . . .
Its Advantages and Limitations . . . Theory of Typography, with
Illustrations of the Face and Body of Types . . . Superiority of
Movable Types over Engraved Letters . . . Stereotype . . . Superiority
of the Typographic Method in its Presses and its Process of Inking
. . . Xylography . . . Period when each Method was Introduced . . . A
Meaning in their almost Simultaneous Introduction.
* * * * *
Printing, the act, art, or practice of impressing letters, characters,
or figures on paper, cloth, or other material; the business of a
printer; typography.
Typography, the art of printing, or the operation of impressing
letters and words on forms of types.
_Webster._
Printing, the business of a printer; the art or process of impressing
letters or words; typography; the process of staining linen with
figures.
Typography, the art of printing.
_Worcester._
Print, to press, mark, stamp or infix letters, characters, forms, or
figures.
_Richardson._
* * * * *
These definitions of printing are based on its derivation from the
Latin, _premo_, to press, and on the supposition that its most
characteristic feature is impression. From a technical point of view,
the definitions are incomplete; for printing and typography are made
synonymous, while many leading, but totally different, methods of
impressing letters, characters and figures, are not even noticed.
Impression is employed in the manufacture of calico, paper-hangings,
oilcloth, figured crockery, and in many other arts which have no
connection with each other. Under right conditions, the [p018] action
or the impress of light makes a photograph. Under different conditions,
the pressure of the breath makes hollow glassware. Moulding, coining,
stamping and embossing are other methods of impression; but the
men who practise these methods are not known as printers. The word
printing has acquired a conventional meaning not entirely warranted
by its derivation. It means much more than impression. It is commonly
understood as a process in which paper and ink are employed in
conjunction with impression.
Printing and typography are not strictly synonymous, as may be inferred
from the definitions. Typography, although the most useful, is not
the only form of printing. Printing on paper with ink is done by four
methods. Each method is, practically, a separate art, distinct from its
rivals in its theory, its process, and its application. These methods
are:
_Steel-plate or Copper-plate printing_, in which the subject is printed
from an etching or engraving below the surface of a plate of steel or
of copper.
_Lithography_, in which the subject is printed from a transferred
engraving on the surface of a prepared stone.
_Typography_, in which the subject is printed from a combination of
movable metal types cast in high relief.
_Xylography_, in which the subject is printed from a design engraved on
a block of wood in high relief.
The distinct nature of the substances in use for printing surfaces by
the four methods should be enough to teach us that the methods are
entirely different. But the manner in which the letters, designs or
figures of each method are put on the respective printing surfaces will
show the differences more noticeably. In typographic and xylographic
work, the matter to be printed is cast or cut in high relief, or
_above_ the surface; in lithographic work, it is put _on_ the smooth
surface of the stone, in relief so slight that it is almost level with
the surface; in steel and copper-plate, it is cut _below_ the surface
which receives the impression. The illustration on the next page shows,
but in an exaggerated form, the appearance of a [p019] single line,
cut across, or in a vertical direction, when it has been prepared for
printing by each of the different methods. It will be seen that the
line prepared for printing by the typographic or xylographic method can
be inked with facility, and that, when compared with a similar line in
lithographic or copper-plate work, it presents but a small surface and
a slighter resistance to impression.
[Illustration: Typography or Xylography.
A. Elevated line; the only part of a typographic or of a xylographic
surface which receives the ink and impression.
B. The shoulder of the type, or the field of the block; it receives
neither ink nor impression.]
[Illustration: Lithography.
C. Transferred surface line; the only part of the surface which
receives ink and repels moisture.
D. The surface of the stone, that imbibes moisture and repels greasy
ink; it receives the full force of impression in every part.]
[Illustration: Copper-plate or Steel-plate.
E. The line printed, which is engraved below the surface of the plate,
and is filled with ink.
F. The smooth face of the plate, which makes no mark on the paper, but
which receives the full force of impression.]
The process of copper-plate printing begins with heating the plate,
and rolling it with ink, until the incised lines have been filled. The
face of the plate is then wiped clean, care being taken that the ink in
the incised lines is not removed. A moistened sheet of paper is then
laid on the plate, and an impression is taken by forcing it under the
cylinder of a rolling press. Under this pressure, the paper is forced
in the sunken lines filled with ink, and the ink sticks to the paper.
Copper-plate printing is, in all points, the reverse of typographic
printing. The engraved lines, cut below the surface, are filled with
ink in a compact body, and not in a thin film, liable to spread
under pressure, as it may on a type or on a wood-cut; the ink from a
copper-plate is pressed in such a way that it re-appears on the paper
in a low relief—it is not squeezed on and flatted out, but stands up
with sharper line and shows a greater depth of color. The slenderness
of the incised lines, the fineness and hardness of the metal, and the
peculiar method by which the ink is laid on the plate and fixed to the
paper, give to prints from engravings on steel or [p020] on copper
a sharpness of line, a brilliancy of color, a delicacy of tone, and
a receding in perspective, which have always won for this branch of
printing the preference of artists. Yet it is a slow and expensive
process. A steel-plate engraver may be engaged for many months upon a
large plate, from which but forty perfect impressions can be taken in a
day. On ordinary work on a large plate, three hundred impressions per
day is the average performance of a copper-plate press.
Steel and copper-plate printing is largely used for bank-notes,
portraits, fine book illustrations, revenue and postage stamps, and
sometimes for commercial formularies, but it is in every way unfitted
for the printing of books. It has not been much improved since its
invention. Steel plates may be duplicated by means of electrotyping, or
by the process of transfer to soft steel, but these duplicates cannot
be made so cheaply as typographic stereotype plates, nor so promptly as
transfers by lithography. The inking and cleansing of the plate, always
dirty and disagreeable work, has hitherto been done only by hand. All
the manipulations of copper-plate work are slow and difficult: they
present many obstacles to the use of labor-saving machinery.
In lithography the design to be printed, which may be engraved on stone
or copper, or written with pen on paper, is transferred by a greasy ink
upon the smooth surface of a stone of peculiar fineness and firmness.
This stone, which is found in its best state only in Bavaria, where the
art was invented, is a variety of slate, which faithfully responds in
printing to the slightest touch of a graver or a crayon, and permits
the use of fine shades and tints which cannot be produced on wood or
on copper. The transferred lines of the design cling to and dry upon
the surface of the stone, which is then subjected to the action of a
weak acid, which hardens the ink in the transferred lines, while it
slightly etches and lowers the surface where it is unprotected. The
process of printing begins by dampening the stone with a moist sponge,
the water in which is absorbed by the [p022] unprotected face of
the stone, while it is repelled by the hard greasy matter in the
transferred lines. The inking roller is then applied to the stone with
a contrary result; the moistened surface repels the greasy ink, but the
transferred lines attract and retain it. When an impression on paper
is taken, the only part of the paper which receives ink is that part
which touches the transferred lines. The theory of lithography is based
upon the repulsion between grease and water. Lithographic printing is
chemical printing.
[Illustration: Surface Exposed to Impression by the Copper-plate Method.
The entire surface of the plate is covered with ink until the white
lines are filled. The surface around the figures is wiped clean before
the impression is taken.]
[Illustration: Surface Inked and Exposed to Impression by the
Typographic Method.]
[Illustration: Surface Exposed to Impression by the Lithographic Method.
This surface is rolled twice: once with water, which is absorbed only
by the surface here shown in dull black tint; once with ink, which is
retained only on the figures.]
Lithography is the most scientific and the most flexible of all
methods of printing. It can imitate fairly, and it often reproduces
with accuracy, a line engraving on steel, a drawing in crayon, the
manuscript of a penman, or the painting in oil of an artist. By the
aid of photography, it can repeat, in an enlarged or diminished size,
any kind of printed work. It has many advantages over copper-plate and
xylography. For some kinds of work, like autograph letters and rude
diagrams, engraving is unnecessary; the design may be written with
oily ink on paper, and can then be transferred direct from the written
copy to a stone without the aid of a graver. The transferring process
is another peculiarity of this art which allows the lithographer to
duplicate small designs with greater facility and economy than a
similar duplication could be effected by the stereotyper of types.
These advantages are counterbalanced by one great defect: lithography
is not a quick method of printing. The usual performance of the
lithographic hand press when applied to ordinary work, is about four
hundred impressions per day; on the steam press, the performance is
about five thousand impressions per day.
The arts of lithography and copper-plate are useful and beautiful
methods of printing, but they do not make books and newspapers.[1] The
necessity which compels them to [p023] make a new engraving for every
new subject restricts them almost exclusively to the field of art and
ornament. If no other method of printing were known, encyclopedias and
newspapers would be impossibilities. “The art preservative of all arts”
is not the art of lithography nor of copper-plate.
This distinction rightfully belongs to Typography only. The theory
upon which this method is based is that of the independence of each
character, and of the mutual dependence of all its characters. Every
character is a separate and movable type, so made that it can be
arranged with others in an endless variety of combinations. The types
used for this page are used for other pages in this book; they can be
re-arranged for use in the printing of many other books or pamphlets;
they cease to serve only when they are worn out. All other methods of
printing require, at the outset, the engraving on one piece of wood
or metal of all the letters or parts of a design, which, when once
combined, cannot be separated; they can be applied only to the object
for which they were first made.
Typography is most successful when it is applied to the letters of
the alphabet. It fails totally when applied to maps, or to any kind
of printed work requiring irregularly varying lines. It is only
partially successful in the representation of combined ornaments and
the characters of music. Its true field is in the representation of
words and thoughts, and here it is supreme. There is no other method of
printing which can do this work so perfectly.
Typography has a great advantage over other branches of printing in the
cheapness of its materials. Type-metal is cheaper by weight than copper
or steel, or the finer quality of lithographic stone: by measurement,
it is cheaper than the box-wood used by engravers. Types are cheaper
than engraved letters. A pound of the types by which this page is
printed contains about 320 pieces of metal, the cost of which is but
48 cents. Types are made of many forms or faces, but they are always
of uniform height, and are always [p024] truly square as to body,
so that they can be fitted to each other with precision, and can be
interchanged with facility.
The expense of combining types in words is trivial, as compared with
the cost of engraving for lithographic or for copper-plate printing.
An employing printer’s price for the composition of a page like this
would be, at the high rates of New-York city, $1.10. The engraving of
such a page, by any method, would cost at least three times as much
as the types and their composition. If never so carefully done, the
engraved letters would not be so uniform, nor so satisfactory to the
general reader, as the types. The engraved letters would cost more,
but they could be used only for the work for which they were made. In
typographic printing, there is no such restriction as to use, and no
such loss of labor. It is only the labor of composition which need be
lost; the types remain, but little more worn, or little less perfect,
than when they were first put in use.
[Illustration:
Letter H, from a Em, or full square Face of the letter as it
type of Canon body. of Canon body. appears on the body.
The Face of a Large Type, showing the manner in which the Letter is
placed on the Body.[2]]
The labor of composition is not always lost. A page of movable types
can be used for a mould, from which can be made a stereotype plate of
immovable letters. Stereotyping is a cheap process. A plate of this
page of type can be had for about one-half the cost of the composition.
The stereotype plate has all the advantages pertaining to an engraving
on a lithographic stone, and it is more durable and portable. [p025]
Typography has a marked advantage in the greater ease with which
printing types are inked. In the copper-plate process, the plate must
be first blackened over the entire surface, and then cleansed with even
greater care, before an impression can be taken. This labor cannot
be intrusted to machinery, but must be done by a practised workman.
The inking of a lithographic stone is as difficult: the stone must
be moistened before the inking roller can be applied. This double
operation of inking and cleansing, or of inking and moistening, is
required for every impression. The inking of types is done by a much
simpler method; one passage, to and fro, of a gang of rollers over the
surface is sufficient to coat them with ink. The types need no previous
nor after application.
[Illustration:
Side view of Small-pica Agate Diamond View of body
Canon body. body. body. body. inclined to
show the face.
Bodies of Types.]
The impression by which typographic surfaces are printed is
comparatively slight. The sunken lines of a copper plate or the
transferred lines of a lithographic stone can be reproduced on paper
only by means of violent impression, which is obtained by forcing the
plate or the stone under an iron cylinder or scraper. Only a part of
the surface is printed, but the entire surface must receive impression,
which is, of necessity, gradually applied. A direct vertical pressure,
at the same instant, over every part of the surface, would crush the
stone or flatten the plate. In printing types of ordinary form, the
area of impression surface is exactly the reverse of that of the
lithographic stone or the copper plate. It is only the part which is
printed that receives the ink and the [p026] impression. This printed
part is the raised surface, which is rarely ever more than one-sixth of
the area occupied by the types, and is often less than one-twelfth. The
resistance to impression of types as compared with stones or plates is,
at least, in the proportion of one to six.
As relief plates or types are more quickly coated with ink, and
need less impression than lithographic stones or copper plates, the
typographic process is, consequently, better fitted to receive the help
of labor-saving machinery. The daily performance of the typographic
hand press on plain work has been, almost from its earliest employment,
about fifteen hundred impressions, which is about four times greater
than that of the hand lithographic press. By the use of steam and of
improved machinery, this inequality is put almost beyond comparison.
The typographic single-cylinder type-printing machine can print fifteen
hundred impressions in an hour, and the new newspaper perfecting press
can print fifteen thousand perfect sheets in an hour.
The feature which gives to typography its precedence in usefulness
over all other branches of the graphic arts is not so much its
superior adaptation to impression as its superior facility for
combining letters. Its merit is in the mobility of its types and their
construction for combination. Printing is Typography. The printing
which disseminates knowledge is not the art that makes prints or
pictures; it is, as Bernard has defined it, “the art that makes books.”
The definition is not scientifically exact, but it gives a clear
idea of the great breadth of the art. In its perfect adaptation to
this great object, the broad generalization of the definition in the
dictionaries may be justified. The method of printing which is most
useful may rightfully claim the generic name.
Xylography is the scientific word for the art of making engravings on
a single block of wood, in high relief, for use on the typographic
printing press. A xylographic block may be an engraving of letters
only, of pictures only, or of both letters and pictures, but in all
cases the engraving is fixed on [p027] the block. The fixedness of the
design on the block is the great feature which separates xylography[3]
from typography. The printing surfaces of the two methods are alike.
Types and xylographic engravings are printed together, by the same
process, and on the same press.
Printing with ink, not as an experiment, but as a practical business,
is comparatively a modern art. Lithography, the most recent method,
was discovered by Alois Senefelder, an actor of Munich, in 1798.
Unlike other methods of printing, it was, in every detail, an entirely
original invention.
The introduction of copper-plate printing is attributed to Maso
Finiguerra, a goldsmith of Florence, who is supposed to have made his
first print about the year 1452. It cannot be proved that Finiguerra
was the inventor, for prints by this method were made in Germany as
early as 1446.
The period of the invention of typography may be placed between the
years 1438 and 1450. There have been many claimants for the honor of
the invention. Each of the following fifteen cities or towns—Augsburg,
Basle, Bologna, Dordrecht, Feltre, Florence, Haarlem, Lubeck, Mentz,
Nuremberg, Rome, Russemburg, Strasburg, Schelestadt and Venice—has
been specified by as many different authors as the true birthplace
of typography. The names of the alleged inventors are, Castaldi,
Coster, Fust, Gensfleisch, Gresmund, Gutenberg, Hahn, Mentel, Jenson,
Regiomontanus, Schœffer, Pannartz and Sweinheym, and Louis de
Vaelbaeske. The evidences in favor of each claimant have been fully
examined, and the more foolish pretensions have been so completely
suppressed that it is unnecessary to review them. The limits of the
controversy have been greatly contracted: but four of the alleged
inventors of types, Castaldi, Coster, Gutenberg and Schœffer, have
living defenders. The legend of an invention of types [p028] by
Castaldi, of Feltre, has never been accepted beyond Italy, and barely
deserves respectful consideration. The evidences in favor of Schœffer
are more plausible, but they are not admitted by the writers who have
carefully investigated the documents upon which this pretension is
based. The real controversy is between Lourens Coster of Haarlem and
John Gutenberg of Mentz.
There is no record, nor even any tradition, concerning an invention of
xylography. It is admitted by all authorities, that xylographic prints
were made during the first quarter of the fifteenth century, and that
xylographic books were in use before typography was introduced.
Three of the four methods of printing here named were invented or
developed within a period of fifty years. If the statements of some
historians could be accepted, this period should be contracted to
thirty years. There is no disagreement, however, as to the order of
their introduction. Xylography, the rudest method, was the first in
use; typography, a more useful method, soon followed; copper-plate
printing, the artistic method, was the proper culmination. The order of
invention was that of progressive development from an imperfect to a
perfect method.
The introduction of three distinct methods of printing, by different
persons and in different places, but during the same period, shows
that a general need of books or of printed matter had given a strong
impulse to the inventive spirit of the fifteenth century. It may also
be inferred that the inventors of printing had been benefited, in some
way, by recent improvements or developments in the mechanical processes
of which printing is composed.
[p029]
II
Antique Methods of Impression and their Failure.
Transfer of Form by Impression one of the Oldest Arts . . . The
Stamped Bricks of Assyria and Egypt . . . Assyrian Cylinders of Clay
. . . Greek Maps . . . Roman Theories about Combinations of Letters
. . . Roman Stamps . . . The Brands and Stamps of the Middle Ages
. . . English Brands . . . Stamping is not Printing . . . Ink then
used was Unsuitable for Printing . . . Printing Waited for Discovery
of Ink and Paper . . . Romans did not Need Printing . . . Printing
Depends on a multitude of Readers . . . Readers were few in the
Dark Ages . . . Invention of Printing was Not purely Mechanical
. . . Printing needs many Supports . . . Telegraph . . . Schools
. . . Libraries . . . Expresses . . . Post-Offices . . . A Premature
Invention would have been Fruitless.
* * * * *
The stamps of the ancients, and the impressions from the seals of
metal, found in deeds and conveyances of the lower ages, prove nothing
more than that mankind walked for many centuries upon the borders
of the two great inventions of typography and chalcography, without
having the luck to discover either of them, and appear neither to have
had any influence on the origin of these arts, nor to merit any place
in their history.
_Lanzi._
* * * * *
Some notice of the material and moral elements needed for the
development of typography should precede a description of the work
of the early printers. We shall form incorrect notions about the
invention of printing unless we know something about the state of the
arts of paper-making, ink-making and engraving at the beginning of the
fifteenth century. We should also know something about the books and
the book-makers of the middle ages. Nor will it be out of place to
review the mechanical processes which have been used, almost from the
beginning, for the preservation of written language. The review will
show us what elements the inventor of typography found at his hand
ready for use; what he combined from the inventions of others, and what
he invented anew. [p030]
[Illustration: A Stamped Brick from the Ruins of Babylon.
[From Hansard.]]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Impression on the Brick.
[From Hansard.]]
[Illustration: An Egyptian Stamp for Impressing Bricks.
[From Jackson.]]
Engraving must be regarded as the first process in every method of
printing. The impression of engraved forms on metal and wax, for the
purpose of making coins and seals, is of great antiquity, having been
practised more than three thousand years ago, and, by some people, with
a skill which cannot now be surpassed. There are old Egyptian seals
with faces of such minute delicacy that the fineness of the workmanship
can be fully perceived only by the aid of a magnifying glass. There are
coins of Macedonia which are stamped in a relief as bold as that of the
best pieces of modern mints. In Babylonia and Assyria, engraved forms
were printed or stamped on clay specially prepared for this purpose.
In the ruins of the ancient edifices of these primeval nations there
is scarcely a stone or a kiln-burnt brick without an inscription or
a stamp upon it. The inscriptions on stone appear to have been cut
with a chisel, after the usual method of stone-cutters; but the stamps
on the bricks were made from engravings on wood, or by the separate
impressions of some pointed instrument. The preceding illustration is
that of a stamped brick taken many years ago from the ruins of ancient
Babylon. When in perfect condition, it was thirteen inches square
and three inches thick. The inscription, which is in the cuneiform
or arrow-headed character, is irregularly placed on the surface, but
the letters or words are arranged in parallel rows, and are obviously
made to be read from top to bottom. The characters of this inscription
were not cut upon the brick, nor were they separately impressed. That
they were made [p032] on the plastic clay by the sudden pressure of
a xylographic block, is seen by the oblique position of the square
inscription on the brick,[4] in the nicety of the engraving and its
uniform depth, in the bulging up of the clay on the side, where it was
forced outward and upward by the impression. In old Egypt, bricks were
impressed by the same method of stamping, but not to such an extent as
they were in old Assyria. The cuts annexed represent the face and back
of an old Egyptian stamp discovered in a tomb of Thebes. The stamp is
five inches long, two and one-quarter inches broad, and half an inch
thick, and is fitted to an arched handle. The characters are engraved
below the surface of the wood, so that an impression taken from the
stamp on the clay would show the engraved characters in relief. The
inscription on the stamp [p033] has been translated, _Amenoph, beloved
of truth_. Amenoph is supposed, by some authorities, to have been the
king of Egypt at the period of the exodus of the Israelites.
The characters on the Egyptian and Babylonian bricks are much more
neatly executed than would seem necessary for inscriptions on so common
a material as clay. But they are really coarse, when compared with
the inscriptions upon the small cylinders of clay which were used by
the Assyrians for the preservation of their public documents. Layard
mentions a small six-sided Assyrian cylinder that contains sixty
lines of minute characters which could be read only by the aid of a
magnifying glass. Antiquaries are not yet perfectly agreed as to the
method by which the cylinders were made. Layard, who says that the
Babylonian bricks were stamped, thinks that the inscriptions on the
cylinders were cut on the clay. But there are many cylinders which show
the clearest indications of impression.
It is probable that they were made by both methods. The clay was
prepared for writing as well as for stamping. Ezekiel, who prophesied
by the river Chebar in Assyria, was commanded to take a tile, and
portray upon it the city of Jerusalem. The Chaldean priests informed
Callisthenes that they kept their astronomical observations on tiles
that were subsequently baked in the furnace. Four large piles of
tablets of unburned clay were found by Layard in the library or hall
of records of Assurbanipal. Some of the tablets are the grammars
and primers of the language; some are records of agreements to sell
property or slaves; some are filled with astronomical or astrological
predictions. On one of them was inscribed the Assyrian version of
the deluge. The cylinders contained the memorials which were then
considered as of most value, such as the proclamations of the king, or
the laws of the empire. In the museum of the East India Company is the
fragment of a clay cylinder which contains a portion of the decrees
or annals of Nebuchadnezzar. For perpetuating records of this nature,
the cylinders were admirably adapted. [p034] They were convenient for
reference, and their legibility, after so long an exposure, shows that
they were perfectly durable.
We do not know by what considerations Assyrian rulers were governed
when about to choose between engraving or writing on clay; but it is
not unreasonable to assume that the inscription was written or cut on
the clay, when one copy only of a record was wanted; if numerous copies
were wanted, a die or an engraving on wood was manufactured, from which
these copies were moulded. No surer method of securing exact copies of
an original could have been devised among a people that did not use
ink and paper. These cylinders are examples of printing in its most
elementary form.
[Illustration: An Assyrian Cylinder.
[From Hansard.]]
The accompanying illustration, copied from Hansard’s _Typographia_,
represents an Assyrian cylinder which presents the same indications
of impression which have been noticed upon the bricks. This cylinder,
which is seven inches wide at each end, was so thoroughly baked
in a furnace that it is partially vitrified. Around its largest
circumference is a ragged and bulging line, about a quarter of an inch
wide, which seems [p035] to have been made by the imperfect meeting of
two moulding stamps. If the inscription had been cut on the clay, this
defect would not appear; the vertical lines would have been connected,
and the ragged white line would have been made smooth.
This method of printing in clay was rude and imperfect, but, to some
extent, it did the work of modern typography. Writings were published
at small expense, and records were preserved for ages without the aid
of ink or paper. The modern printer may wonder that this skill in
printing was not developed. The engraving that was used to impress clay
could have been coated with ink and stamped on parchment. Simple as
this application of the engraving may appear, it was never made. So far
from receiving any improvement, the art of printing in clay gradually
fell into disuse. It has been neglected for more than twenty-five
centuries on the soil where it probably originated. For Layard tells
us that an Assyrian six-sided cylinder was used as a candlestick by a
reputable Turcoman family living in the village where it was found. A
hole in the centre of one of the ends received the tallow candle. There
is a practical irony in this base application of what may have been a
praise of “the great king,” which has never been surpassed by Solomon
or Shakspeare in their reflections on the vanity of human greatness.
Engraving was used by the ancient Greeks in a manner which should have
suggested the feasibility of printing with ink. Some of the maps of the
Athenians were engraved on smooth metal plates, with lines cut below
the surface, after the method of copper-plate printers, from which
impressions on vellum, or even on papyrus, could have been taken. But,
so far as we know, the impressions were not taken: for every new map
there was a new engraving.
The Assyrian method of engraving stamps for impressing clay was
practised by the old Roman potters, who marked their manufactures with
the names of the owners or with the contents of the vessel. The potters
clearly understood the [p036] value of movable types. On some of their
lamps of clay, the inscriptions were made by impressing, consecutively,
the type of each letter. These types must have been movable, and,
in appearance, somewhat like the punches or the model letters of
type-founders.
There were some men in ancient Rome who had a clear perception of
the ease with which engraved letters could be combined. Cicero,
in an argument against the hypothesis of logical results from
illogical causes, has intimated that it would be absurd to look for
an intelligible sentence from a careless mixing up of the engraved
letters of the alphabet.[5] The phrase by which he describes the
assembled letters, _formæ literarum_, was used by the early printers to
describe types. His argument implies, conversely, that if proper care
were exercised, it would be easy to arrange the letters in readable
sentences. But the speculation of Cicero did not go beyond the idea of
combination. It does not appear that he thought that the letters could
be used for printing.
Quintilian had speculations about engraved letters. He recommended to
teachers the use of a thin stencil plate of wood, on which should be
cut the letters that a boy might be required to copy when learning to
write. The boy who traced the characters with his writing implement
would have his hand guided and formed by the outlines of the perforated
letters. The curt manner in which stencil plates are noticed should
lead us to think that they were then in common use. We can see that
stencils of this nature could have been used, at least as an aid, in
the mechanical manufacture of books; but it is not probable that they
were so used. [p037]
We have some evidences that the old Romans practised, at least
experimentally, the art of printing with ink. The British Museum has a
stamp with letters engraved in relief, that was found near Rome, and
which seems to have been made for the purpose of printing the signature
of its owner. The stamp is a brass plate, about two inches long and
not quite one inch wide. A brass ring is attached to the back of the
plate which may have been used as a socket for the finger, or as a
support when it was suspended from a chain or girdle. On the face of
the stamp are engraved two lines of capital letters, huddled together
in the usual style of all old Roman inscriptions, cut the reverse way,
as it would now be done for printing, and enclosed by a border line.
An impression taken from this stamp would produce the letters in the
accompanying illustration, which may be translated, _the signature of
Cecilius Hermias_. Of Cecilius Hermias we know nothing. He may have
been a civic official who used this stamp to exempt himself from the
trouble of writing, or a citizen who tried to hide his inability to
write.
[Illustration]
If this stamp should be impressed in wax, the impression would produce
letters sunk below the surface of the wax in a manner that is unlike
the impressions of seals. The raised surface on the wax would be rough
where it should be flat and smooth. This peculiarity is significant.
As this rough field unfitted it for a neat impression on any plastic
surface, the stamp should have been used for printing with ink.
[Illustration: An Old Roman Stamp.
[From Jackson.]]
The accompanying illustration is that of a brass printing stamp in
the British Museum, which is preserved as a specimen of old Roman
workmanship.[6] The letters were cut in relief, in reverse order, and
with a rough counter or field. This roughness proves that it could not
have been used to impress wax. [p038]
Brass stamps of similar construction and of undetermined age have been
frequently found in France and Italy. All of them are of small size,
and contain names of persons only.
[Illustration: Roman Stamps.
[From Jackson.]]
The illustrations annexed, of two engraved brass stamps of eccentric
shapes, were also copied from the originals in the British Museum.
As the letters are roughly sunk in the metal, and are not fitted
for stamping in wax, it is supposed that the stamps were made for
impression with ink. They are regarded as Roman antiquities, of
undoubted authenticity, but the meaning of the inscriptions, the
special purposes for which they were made, and the period in which they
were employed, are unknown. The difficulty connected with the proper
fixing of ink upon these stamps of brass, of which a subsequent notice
will be made, is one of many causes which prevented the development of
this experimental form of printing.
A favorite method of making impressions was that of branding. Virgil,
in the third book of the Georgics, tells us of its application to
cattle. The old laws of many European states tell us of its application
to human beings. The cruel practice was kept up long after the
invention of typography. During the reign of Edward VI, of England
(1547–1553), it was enacted that, “whosoever, man or woman, not
being lame or impotent, nor so aged or diseased that he or she could
not work, should be convicted of loitering or idle wandering by the
highwayside, or in the streets, like a servant wanting a master, or
a beggar, he or she was to be marked with a hot [p039] iron upon the
breast with the letter V [for vagabond], and adjudged to the person
bringing him or her before a justice, to be his slave for two years;
and if such adjudged slave should run away, he or she, upon being taken
and convicted, was to be marked upon the forehead, or upon the ball of
the cheek, with the letter S [for slave], and adjudged to be the said
master’s slave forever.”
With these evidences before us of long continued practice in various
methods of engraving and stamping, and of a fair knowledge of some of
the advantages of movable letters, the question may be asked, Why did
the world have to wait so long for the invention of typography? This
question is based on the assumption, that the civilization of antiquity
was capable of making and preserving the invention which was missed
through accident or neglect. Here is a grave error. The elements of an
invention are like those of a chemical mixture. All the constituents
but one may be there, exact in quantity and quality, but, for the
lack of that one, the mixing of the whole in a new form cannot be
accomplished. Failure in one point is entire failure.
The ancients failed in many points. They were destitute of several
materials which we regard as indispensable in the practice of printing.
They had no ink suitable for the work. Pliny and Dioscorides have
given the formulas for the writing ink that was used by Greek and
Roman scribes during the first century. Pliny says that the ink of
book-writers was made of soot, charcoal and gum. He does not say
what fluid was used to mix these materials, but he does allude to an
occasional use of acid, to give the ink encaustic property and to
make it bite in the papyrus. Dioscorides is more specific as to the
quantities. He says that one ounce of gum should be mixed with three
ounces of soot. Another formula is, one-half pound of smoke-black
made from burned resin, one-half ounce each of copperas and ox-glue.
Dioscorides further says that the latter mixture “is a good
application in cases of gangrene, and is useful in scalds, if a little
thickened, and [p040] employed as a salve.” From this crude recipe one
may form a correct opinion of the quality of the scientific knowledge
then applied to medicine and the mechanical arts.
These mixtures, which are more like liquid shoe blacking than writing
fluid, were used, with immaterial modifications, by the scribes of the
dark ages. Useful as they may have been for their methods of writing,
they could not have been applied to the inking of a metal surface
engraved in relief. If the brass stamps described on a previous page
had been brushed over never so carefully with these watery inks, the
metal surface would not be covered with a smooth film of color. The ink
would collect in spots and blotches. When stamped on paper or vellum,
the ink thereupon impressed would be of irregular blackness, illegible
in spots, and easily effaced. Writing ink, thickened with gum, has but
a feeble encaustic property. It will not be absorbed, unless it is laid
on in little pools, and unless the writing surface is scratched by a
pen to aid the desired absorption. The flat impression of a smooth
metal stamp could not make a fluid or a gummy ink penetrate below the
writing surface. It was, no doubt, by reason of the inferior appearance
of impressions of this nature that the brass stamps described on a
previous page found so limited a use.
An unsuitable ink may seem but a trifling impediment to the development
of printing, but if there had been no other, this would have been an
insurmountable obstacle. The modern printer, who sees that the chief
ingredients of printing ink are the well-known materials smoke-black
and oil, may think that an ignorance of this mixture, or an inability
to discover it, is ridiculous and inexcusable. Modern printing ink is
but one of many inventions which could be named as illustrating the
real simplicity of a long delayed improvement. Simple as it may seem,
the mixing of color with oil was a great invention which wrought a
revolution in the art of painting.
This invention, attributed by some authors to unknown Italian painters
of the fourteenth century, and by others to [p041] Hubert Van Eyck
of Holland, at or about the beginning of the fifteenth century,
immediately preceded the invention of types. The early typographic
printers, who could not use the ink of the copyists, succeeded
only when they mixed their black with oil. After four centuries of
experience in the use of printing ink made with oil, and after repeated
experimentation with impracticable substitutes, it may be confidently
asserted that an invention of typography would have failed, if this use
of oil had not been understood. The invention of types had to wait for
the invention of ink.
Typography had to wait for the invention of paper, the only material
that is mechanically adapted for printing, the only material that
supplies the wants of the reader in his requirements for strength,
cheapness, compactness and durability. Paper was known in civilized
Europe for at least two centuries before typography was invented, but
it was not produced in sufficient quantity nor of a proper quality
until the beginning of the fifteenth century.
The old Romans had no substitute for paper that could have been
devoted to printing or book-making. The papyrus which they used was so
brittle that it could not be folded, creased and sewed like modern rag
paper. It could not be bound up in books; it could not be rolled up,
unsupported, like a sheet of parchment. It was secure only when it had
been carefully wound around a wooden roller. The scribes of Rome and
the book copyists of the middle ages preferred vellum. It was preferred
by illuminators after printing had been invented. But vellum was never
a favorite material among printers. In its dry state, it is harsh, and
wears types; it is greasy, and resists ink; in its moistened state, it
is flabby, treacherous and unmanageable. The early books on vellum are
not so neatly printed as those on paper. But these faults were trivial
as compared with the graver fault of inordinate price. When we consider
that the skins of more than three hundred sheep were used in every
copy of the first printed Bible, it is clear that typography would
have been a failure [p042] if it had depended on a liberal supply of
vellum. Even if the restricted size of vellum could have been conformed
to, there were not enough sheep at the end of the fifteenth century to
supply the demands of printing presses for a week.
If the idea of printing books from movable types had been entertained
by an ancient Roman bookseller, or by a copyist, during the earlier
part of the dark ages, it may be doubted whether he could have devised
the mechanism that is needed in the making of types. For types that
are accurate as to body, and economical as to cost, can be made by
one method only. It is, in the highest degree, improbable, that the
scientific method of making types by mechanism could have been invented
at an earlier date than the fifteenth century. There was mechanical
skill enough for the production of any kind of ingenious hand work, but
the spirit that prompted men to construct machines and labor-saving
apparatus was deficient or but feebly exercised. There was no more of
true science in mechanics than there was in chemistry. The construction
of a suitable type-mould, with its appurtenances, during the dark ages,
would have been as premature as an invention of the steam engine in the
same period.
The civilization of ancient Rome did not require printing. If all
the processes of typography had been revealed to its scholars the
art would not have been used. The wants of readers and writers were
abundantly supplied by the pen. Papyrus paper was cheap, and scribes
were numerous; Rome had more booksellers than it needed, and books were
made faster than they could be sold. The professional scribes were
educated slaves, who, fed and clothed at nominal expense, and organized
under the direction of wealthy publishers, were made so efficient in
the production of books, that typography, in an open competition, could
have offered few advantages.
Our knowledge of the Roman organization of labor in the field of
book-making is not as precise as could be wished; but the frequent
notices of books, copyists and publishers, made by many authors
during the first century, teach us that [p043] books were plentiful.
Horace, the elegant and fastidious man of letters, complained that
his books were too common, and that they were sometimes found in the
hands of vulgar snobs for whose entertainment they were not written.
Martial, the jovial man of the world, boasted that his books of
stinging epigrams were to be found in everybody’s hands or pockets.
Books were read not only in the libraries, but at the baths, in the
porticoes of houses, at private dinners and in mixed assemblies. The
business of book-making was practised by too many people, and some were
incompetent. Lucian, who had a keen perception of pretense in every
form, ridicules the publishers as ignoramuses. Strabo, who probably
wrote illegibly, says that the books of booksellers were incorrect.
[Illustration:
Tablet with Waxed Surface. Manuscript Roll, with Title on
Scrinium or Case for Manuscripts. the Ticket. Papyrus Manuscript
partially Unrolled.
Roman Scrinium, with Rolls of Papyrus.]
The prices of books made by slave labor were necessarily low. Martial
says that his first book of epigrams was sold in plain binding for six
sesterces, about twenty-four cents of American money; the same book
in sumptuous binding was valued at five denarii, about eighty cents.
He subsequently complained that his thirteenth book was sold for only
four sesterces, about sixteen cents. He frankly admits that half of
this sum was profit, but intimates, somewhat ungraciously, that the
publisher Tryphon gave him too small a share. Of the merits of this
old disagreement between the author and publisher, we have not enough
of facts to justify an opinion. We learn that some publishers, like
Tryphon and the brothers [p044] Sosii, acquired wealth, but there are
many indications that publishing was then, as it is now, one of the
most speculative kinds of business. One writer chuckles over the unkind
fate that sent so many of the unsold books of rival authors from the
warehouses of the publisher, to the shops of grocers and bakers, where
they were used to wrap up pastry and spices; another writer says that
the unsold stock of a bookseller was sometimes bought by butchers and
trunk-makers.
The Romans not only had plenty of books but they had a manuscript daily
newspaper, the _Acta Diurna_, which seems to have been a record of
the proceedings of the senate. We do not know how it was written, nor
how it was published, but it was frequently mentioned by contemporary
writers as the regular official medium for transmitting intelligence.
It was sent to subscribers in distant cities, and was, sometimes, read
to an assembled army. Cicero mentions the _Acta_ as a sheet in which he
expected to find the city news and gossip about marriages and divorces.
In the sixth century the business of book-making had fallen into
hopeless decay. Ignorance pervaded all ranks of society.[7] The books
that had been written were neglected, and the number of readers and
scholars diminished with every succeeding generation.[8] The treasures
of literature at Rome, Constantinople and Alexandria which were
destroyed by fire or by barbaric invasion were not replaced. Books
were so scarce at the close of the seventh century, that Pope Martin
requested one of his bishops to supply them, if possible, from Germany.
The ignorance of ecclesiastics in high station was [p045] alarming.
During this century, and for centuries afterward, there were many
bishops and archbishops of the church who could not sign their names.
It was asserted at a council of the church held in the year 992, that
scarcely a single person was to be found in Rome itself who knew the
first element of letters. Hallam says, “To sum up the account of
ignorance in a word, it was rare for a layman of any rank to know how
to sign his name.” Charlemagne could not write, and Frederic Barbarossa
could not read; John, king of Bohemia, and Philip the Hardy, king
of France, were ignorant of both accomplishments.[9] The graces of
literature were tolerated only in the ranks of the clergy; the layman
who preferred letters to arms was regarded as a man of mean spirit.
When the crusaders took Constantinople, in 1204, they exposed to public
ridicule the pens and inkstands that they found in the conquered city
as the ignoble arms of a contemptible race of students.
During this period of intellectual darkness, which lasted from the
fifth until the fifteenth century, a period sometimes described, and
not improperly, as the dark ages, there was no need for any improvement
in the old method of making books. The world was not then ready for
typography. The invention waited for readers more than it did for
types; the multitude of book-buyers upon which its success depended had
to be created. Books were needed as well as readers. The treatises of
the old Roman sophists and rhetoricians, the dialectics of Aristotle
and the schoolmen, and the commentaries on ecclesiastical law of the
fathers of the church, were the works which engrossed the attention of
men of letters for many centuries before the invention of typography.
Useful as these books may have been to the small class of readers for
whose benefit they were written, they were of no benefit to a people
who required the elements of knowledge.
We may imagine the probable fate of a premature and unappreciated
invention of typography by thinking of results that might have been
and have not been accomplished by printing among a people who were not
prepared to use it as [p046] it should be used. Printing has been
practised in China for many centuries, but there can be no comparison
between the fruits of printing in China and in Europe. The remarkable
inefficiency of the Chinese method is the result not so much of
clumsiness of the process, as of the perverseness of a people who are
unable to improve it, and unwilling to accept the improvements of
Europeans. The first printing press brought to the New World was set up
in the City of Mexico about one hundred years before a printing office
was established in Massachusetts. Books were printed in Constantinople,
perhaps as early as 1490, certainly before types were thought of in
Scotland. And now Scotland sends types and books to Turkey, and Boston
sends printing paper and presses to Mexico. If the people of Turkey and
Mexico are receiving benefits from printing, the benefits have been
derived from the practice of the art abroad and not at home.
In making an estimate of the service that printing has done for the
world, we frequently overlook the supports by which it has been upheld.
It is a common belief that the diffusion of knowledge which was so
clearly manifested in the fifteenth century was due to the invention of
printing. This belief reverses the proper order, and substitutes the
effect for the cause. It was the broader diffusion of knowledge that
made smooth the way for the development of typography. In its infancy,
the invention was indebted for its existence to improvements in liberal
and mechanical arts; in its maturity, it is largely indebted for its
success to discoveries in science, and to reforms in government.
The magnetic telegraph is the most recent discovery, and of the
most importance, in its services to the daily newspaper press. The
circulation of leading American daily newspapers has more than trebled
since the invention of the telegraph.
The free public schools of America have done much to promote the
growth of printing. If the State did not offer free books and free
education, a large portion of the people would grow up in ignorance.
Every scholar in a public school [p047] becomes for life a reader, and
to some extent, a purchaser of books. The value of the school-books
manufactured in the United States annually, has been estimated at
fifteen million dollars. Of Webster’s Spelling-Book alone, thirty-five
million copies have been sold, and a million copies are printed every
year. If printing were deprived of the support it receives from
public schools, there would at once follow a noticeable decrease in
the production of printed matter, and a corresponding decrease in the
number of readers and book-buyers.
To foster the tastes which have been cultivated by public schools and
newspapers, some States have established public libraries in every
school district. There are, also, a great many valuable libraries
which have been established by voluntary association or by individual
bequest. These libraries create books as well as readers.
Railroads, steamboats and package expresses are aids of as great
importance. The New-York daily newspaper, printed early in the morning,
is sold within a radius of three hundred miles before sunset of the
same day. Newspapers now find hundreds of eager purchasers in places
where they would not have found one in the days of stage-coaches. The
benefits of cheap and quick transportation are also favorable to the
sale of books. A bookseller’s package, weighing one hundred pounds,
will be carried from New York to St. Louis, on the Mississippi, within
sixty-five hours, at an average expense of three dollars. When there
was no railroad from St. Louis to San Francisco, the overland charges
on one hundred pounds of books were one hundred dollars. The long
delays and great expenses of stage-coach transportation would operate
almost as a prohibition to the sale of periodicals and new books.
The greatest legislative aid that printing has received is through the
facilities which are furnished by post-offices and mails. They create
readers. Weekly newspapers are now sent, for one year, for twenty
cents, to subscribers in the most remote corner of the Union. Books
are sent three thousand miles at the rate of one cent per ounce. The
improvement [p048] of postal facilities has increased the number of
readers and purchasers of newspapers to an amount unforeseen by the
most sanguine projector.
All these aids are, comparatively, of recent introduction. The
beginnings of the telegraph, the railroad and the express are within
the memory of the men of the present generation. The systematic
establishment of free schools and libraries is the work of the present
century. Public mails and post-offices were introduced in 1530, but
it is only within the past forty years that their management has been
more liberal for the benefit of the people. It is by aids like these,
and not by its intrinsic merits alone, that printing has received its
recent development. It was for the want of these aids that printing
languished for many years after its invention. One has but to consider
the many supports printing has received to see that its premature
invention would have been fruitless.
If, even now, when books and readers and literary tastes are as common
as they were infrequent, it is necessary to the success of printing
that there shall be schools and libraries, cheap and rapid methods of
travel, generous postal facilities, a liberal government and a broad
toleration of the greatest differences in opinion, what but failure
could have been expected when the world was destitute of nearly all?
Printing not only had to wait many centuries for improvements in
mechanical appliances, without which it would have been worthless; it
had to wait for a greater number of readers, for liberal governments,
for instructive writers, for suitable books. It came at the proper
time, not too soon, not too late. “Not the man, the age invents.”
[p049]
III
The Key to the Invention of Typography.
Conflicting Theories about the Invention of Typography . . . Was it
an Invention or a Combination? . . . Errors of Superficial Observers
. . . Merit of the Invention is not in Impression . . . Not altogether
in Types or Composition . . . Types of no value unless they are
Accurate . . . Hand-made Types Impracticable . . . Merit of Invention
is in the Method of Making Types . . . Is but One Method . . .
Description . . . Counter-Punch . . . Punch . . . Matrix . . . Mould
. . . Illustrations . . . Type-Making as Illustrated by Moxon in 1683
. . . As Illustrated by Amman in 1564 . . . Notices of Type-Making
by Earlier Authors . . . Type-Mould the Symbol of Typography . . .
Inventor of the Type-Mould the Inventor of Typography . . . A Great
Invention, but Original only in the Type-Mould.
* * * * *
The character of typography is not pressing and printing but
mobilization. The winged A is its symbol. The elements unchained,
the letters freed from every bond in which the pen or chisel of
calligrapher or xylographer held them entangled; the cut character
risen from the tomb of the solitary tablet into the substantive life
of the cast types—that is the invention of printing.
_Van der Linde._
* * * * *
There is a wide-spread belief that typography was, in all its details,
a purely original invention. A popular version of its origin, hereafter
to be related, says that it was the result of an accidental discovery;
a conflicting version says that it was the result of more than thirteen
years of secret experiment. Each version teaches us that there was
no perceptible unfolding of the invention; that the alleged inventor
created all that he needed, that he made his types, ink and presses,
that he derived nothing of value from the labors of earlier printers.
If typography was invented by Gutenberg, it was fitly introduced by
the sudden appearance of the printed Bible in two folio volumes; if
invented by Coster, by the unheralded publication of a thin folio of
large [p050] wood-cuts with descriptive text of type. If either of
these versions is accepted in the form in which it is usually told, we
must also believe that printing, in the form of perfected typography,
leaped, Minerva-like, fully equipped, from the brain of the inventor.
There is another belief, which is strongly maintained by a few
scholars, that typography was not an original invention, that it was
nothing more than a new application of the old theories and methods
of impression which have already been described. According to this
view, the practice of engraving is at least as old as the oldest
Egyptian seal; the publication of written language can be traced to the
Babylonish bricks; printing with ink, as indicated by old Roman hand
stamps, was practised as early as the fifth century; the combinations
of movable letters were suggested by Cicero and St. Jerome. All that
was needed for the full development of typography was the invention of
paper. Supplied with paper, the so-called inventor of typography did no
more than combine the old theories and processes, and give them a new
application. He really invented nothing.
In this conflict of opinion, the critical reader will note an inability
to perceive the difference between impression and typography. Those
who believe in the entire originality of typography ascribe its merit
to the mind that first thought of the combinations of types; those
who deny its originality find its vital element in pressure. With one
class, the merit of the invention is in the idea of types; with the
other, it is in the impression of types. Neither view is entirely
correct.
A printer may see how these errors could be developed. The unreflecting
observer, who, for the first time, surveys the operations of a printing
office, finds in the fast presses the true vital principle of printing.
With him, presswork is printing; type-setting and type-making are
only adjuncts. He was the inventor of the modern art of printing who
built the first press, and printed the first book. The conclusion
is illogical, as will be shown on another page. If a radical [p051]
improvement had not been made in the earliest method of printing
books, the art would have been as unproductive in Europe as it has
been in China. The fast press may do its work admirably, but its only
functions are those of inking and impressing, and impression is not
typography.
The thoughtful observer will perceive that the merit of modern printing
is not in impression; that there would be neither fast presses, nor
great books, nor daily newspapers, if there were no types. With him,
whatever of greatness there is in printing is due to the mind that
first imagined the utility of types. The grandness of the results that
have been achieved by typography seem all the grander when he thinks
that these results have been accomplished with such simple tools as
little cubes of metal. The making of these tools he regards as a matter
of minor importance. For in these types are visible no intricacy of
mechanism as in the power loom, no indications of a mysterious agency
as in the magnetic telegraph, no evidences of scientific skill as
in photographic apparatus. There are in types, apparently, no more
evidences of genius or science than there are in pins or needles. The
grotesque types of the fifteenth century are rated by him, and even by
many mechanics, as rude workmanship which could have been done by a
carver in wood or a founder in metal. He who could imagine them could
make them. To think was to do. The merit of the invention of typography
is accordingly adjudged, not to the inventive spirit which constructed
the mould by which the types were made, but to the genius which first
thought of the utility of types. This is a grave error.
Speculations like these, which assign all the merit of the invention of
typography to him who first conceived the idea of types, are opposed to
many facts and probabilities. Cicero and Jerome could not have been the
only men who thought of the combinations of engraved letters; nor were
the old Roman lamp-makers and branders of cattle the only men who used
types. The idea of stamping with detached letters [p052] could have
been entertained, and practised, by hundreds of experimenters of whom
there is no tradition. It is probable that there was such a practice,
but the stamping of single types by hand pressure was not typography,
nor did it lead to its subsequent invention. Experimental types like
these, which had been cut by hand, were of no practical value, for they
could not have been used on any extensive scale.
[Illustration: Illustration of Types of Irregular Body.]
There is something more in types than is apparent at the first glance.
Simple as they may seem, they are evidences of notable mechanical skill
in the matter of accuracy. The page before the reader was composed
with more than 2,000 pieces of metal; the large page of a daily paper
may contain more than 150,000 of these little pieces. Whether the page
is large or small, the types are always closely fitted to each other;
they stand accurately in line, and the page is truly square. If the
types of one character, as of the letter a, should be made the merest
trifle larger or smaller than its fellows in the same font, all the
types, when composed, will show the consequences of the defect. The
irregularity of line that is scarcely perceptible in the first row
will be offensively distinct in the second. It will increase with each
succeeding row, until the types become a heap of confusion which cannot
be handled by the printer. Advantages which might be secured from
movable types are made of no effect by an irregularity so slight that
it would be passed unnoticed in the workmanship of ordinary trades. The
illustration proves that it is not enough for types to be movable; they
must be accurate as to body; they must fit each other with geometrical
precision.
The accuracy of modern printing types is due more to the nice
mechanisms employed by the type-founder than to his personal skill.
He could cut types by hand, but the cost of hand-cut types would be
enormous, and they would be vastly [p053] inferior to types made
by the type-casting machine. He could make types by a variety of
mechanical methods, but they would be imperfect and unsatisfactory.
A careful survey of the impracticable inventions in type-founding,
recorded in the patent offices of this country and Great Britain,
proves that there is, virtually, but one method of making types. The
requirements of accuracy and cheapness can be met only by making them
of metal, and casting them in a mould of metal.[10]
Although it is clearly understood, by all persons who have a practical
knowledge of the subject, that practical types can be made only by
casting, many popular books repeat the old story that the first
typographic books were printed with types which had been cut by hand
out of wood or metal. Whether the mechanics of the middle ages could
have done what modern mechanics cannot do,—cut types with bodies of
satisfactory accuracy—need not now be considered. The stories about
hand-made types—about types that were sawed out of wood blocks—about
types that were cut out of wooden rods, and skewered together with iron
wires—about types that were engraved on the ends of cubes of metal—will
be examined at greater length on an advanced page. Even if these
doubtful stories were verified, it would still remain to be proved that
the cut types had advantages over letters engraved on wood. It would be
difficult to give reasons for their introduction. Books composed with
cut types could not be neatly printed; they would be inferior to good
manuscripts in appearance, but not inferior in price. Cut types [p054]
were as impracticable in the infancy of the art as they are now. There
is no trustworthy evidence that they were ever used for any other
purpose than that of experiment.
Every method for making merchantable types, save that of casting, is
a failure. Typography would be a great failure, if its types were not
cast by scientific methods. This understood, we can see that the most
meritorious feature in the invention does not belong to him who first
thought of the advantages of types, nor even to him who first made them
by impracticable methods. Its honors are really due to the man to whose
sagacity and patience in experiment we are indebted for the type-mould,
for he was the first to make types which could be used with advantage.
[Illustration]
It will now be necessary to explain the scientific method of making
types which is practised by every type-founder. The first process
is the making of model letters. The work begins with the cutting on
steel of a tool which is known as the Counter-punch. The illustration
represents the face of a counter-punch for the letter H, of the size
usually known among type-founders as Double-English. This counter-punch
is an engraving, in high relief, of the hollow or the counter of that
interior part of the letter H which does not show black in the printed
impression. It has apparently, no resemblance to the letter for which
it is made. When the proportions of the counter-punch have been duly
approved, it is stamped or impressed to a proper depth on the end of a
short bar of soft steel. Properly stamped, the counter-punch finishes
by one quick stroke the interior part of the model letter, and does it
more quickly and neatly than it could be done by cutting tools.
[Illustration: Punch.]
[Illustration: Matrix.[11]]
The short bar of soft steel is known as a Punch. When it has received
the impress of the counter-punch, the punch cutter, for so the engraver
of letters is called in type-foundries, cuts away the outer edges
until the model letter is pronounced perfect. This is work of great
exactness, for the millions of types that may be made by means of the
punch [p055] will reproduce all its peculiarities, whether of merit or
defect. The steel of the punch is then hardened until it has sufficient
strength to penetrate prepared copper. It is then punched, by quick
and strong pressure, on the flat side of a narrow bar of cold rolled
copper. This operation makes a reversed or sunken imprint of the letter
on the punch. In this condition, the punched copper bar is known among
type-founders as a Drive, or a Strike, or an Unjustified Matrix. It
becomes the Matrix proper, only after it has been carefully fitted-up
to suit the mould. The exterior surface of the drive must be made truly
flat, and this flatness must be parallel with the face of the stamped
or sunken letter in the interior. The sides of the drive must be
squared, so that the interior letter shall be at a fixed distance from
the sides. The depth of the stamped letter, and its distance from the
sides, must be made absolutely uniform in all the matrices required for
a font or a complete assortment of letters. The object of this nicety
is to secure a uniform height to all the types, and to facilitate the
frequent changes of matrix on the mould. The justifying and fitting of
matrices to moulds is one of the most exact operations in the art of
type-founding.
For every character or letter really required in a full working
assortment of types, the type-founder cuts a separate punch and fits up
a separate matrix; but for all the characters or letters which are made
to be used together, there is but one mould. Types are of no use, as
has been shown, if they cannot be arranged and handled with facility,
and printed in lines that are truly parallel. However unlike they
may be in face, they must be exactly alike in body. This uniformity
of body, which is as [p056] essential as variety of face, can be
most certainly secured by casting all the types in one mould. All the
matrices are, consequently, made with a view to being fitted to one
mould. The mould forms the body, and the matrix forms the face of the
type. With nearly every change of matrix there must be a new adjustment
of the mould.
The word Body, as used by printers and type-founders, means the
measurement of a type in one direction only—in a direction at a right
angle with the regular lines or rows of printed matter. The types of
the accompanying illustration are of the same height, but they are of
different bodies.
[Illustration:
Pica Small-pica Long-primer Bourgeois Brevier Minion Nonpareil
body. body. body. body. body. body. body.
(See also page 18.)]
Exactness of body could be secured with little difficulty if all the
types belonging to the same font were of the same width, and could be
cast in one fixed and unalterable mould. But types of the same font
and same body are of all widths. They vary, in the letters from the
l to the W; in the spaces or blanks used to separate the words, from
the hair space to the three-em quadrat. The spaces in the following
illustrations are of the same body, but they are of different widths,
to suit the peculiarities of different kinds of printed matter.
[Illustration:
Six-in-em Five-in-em Four-in-em Three-in-em
space. space. space. space.
En Em Two-em Three-em
quadrat. quadrat. quadrat. quadrat.]
It is not practicable to make a mould for each character; the cost
would be enormous, and the multiplicity of moulds [p057] would lead
to fatal faults in inaccuracy of body. Exactness of body can be had
only by casting all the characters in one mould, but this mould must be
made to suit all the matrices. The matrices must be frequently changed,
but with such nicety that the types of every letter shall be uniform
in height, in line, and truly square. Any mechanic will see that the
construction of an adjustable mould is work of difficulty, and that the
fitting-up of a set of matrices for one mould is a very nice operation.
[Illustration: Figure 1. Type-Mould, without Matrix and with a Type in
the Mould.]
[Illustration: Figure 2. One Half of the Mould.]
[Illustration: Figure 3. The Other Half of the Mould.]
The Type-Mould of modern type-founders consists of two firmly screwed
combinations of a number of pieces of steel, making right and left
halves. In the first illustration of the mould, Figure 1, the halves
are properly connected. In this form it is not practicable to represent
the interior, but it may be understood that the interior faces fit each
other snugly in every part but the centre, in which provision is made
for a small opening which can be increased or diminished in a lateral
direction only. One end of this opening is closed by the matrix; the
other end is the jet, or the mouth-piece through which the melted metal
is injected. In this opening, which is indicated by the letter H in the
cut, the body of type is cast. The matrix which forms the face of the
type is snugly fitted between the jaws on [p058] either side of this
letter H. It does not appear in the cut; for the matrices, although
indispensable parts, are always looked upon by founders as attachments
to the mould.
Figures 2 and 3 represent the interior sides of the mould. For the
purpose of clearer illustration, the half of the mould, Figure 2, is
shown reversed, or upside down; but when this half is connected with
its mate, the two halves appear as they do in Figure 1. These two
halves differ from each other only in a few minor features. They are
so constructed that, when joined, the sides which determine the body
of the types are in exact parallel, and at a-fixed and unalterable
distance from each other. In Figure 2, the ridges which make the nicks
are noticeable; in Figure 3 the cast type is shown as it appears before
it is thrown from the mould, with jet attached.[12]
Although the two sides of the mould are fixed so as to be immovable in
the direction which determines the body of the type, they have great
freedom of motion and nicety of adjustment in the direction which
determines its width. They can be brought close together, so as to make
a hair space, or can be fixed wide apart, so as to cast a three-em
quadrat, but they always slide on broad and solid bearings, between
guides which keep them from getting out of square.
In the construction of the mould and adjustment of the matrices, every
care is taken to insure exactness of body. The illustration on page
52 may be again referred to as an example of the necessity for minute
accuracy. We there see that the feasibility of typography depends
upon the geometrical exactness of its tools, and that types are of no
practical use, if they cannot be readily combined and interchanged.
The casting or founding of types, in a mould constructed like that of
the engraving, is now accomplished by a complex machine, the invention
of Mr. David Bruce, Jr., of New-York city, and by him patented in the
year 1838. Before this date [p059] all types were cast by hand, from a
hand-mould, and by a process which received no noticeable improvement
for two centuries. The following illustration, taken from an engraving
published by an early English type-founder,[13] can be offered as a
substantially correct representation of the method of casting which was
practised by all type-founders in the first quarter of this century.
[Illustration: Type-Casting as Practised in 1683.
[From Moxon.]]
The type-caster took in his left hand the mould, which was imbedded in
a wood frame, and shielded about the jet, [p060] to protect him from
accidental splashes of melted metal. Then, with his right hand, he took
from the melting pot a spoonful of the hot metal, which he quickly
poured into the jet or mouth of the mould. At the same instant, with a
sudden jerk, he threw up his left hand, so as to aid the melted metal
in making a forcible splash against the matrix at the bottom of the
mould. This sudden jerk or throw was needed, in the casting of small
letters, to make a good face to the type. If it was not done, the metal
would cool too quickly, and would not penetrate the finer lines of the
matrix. Long practice enabled the type-caster to do this work with
apparent carelessness; but the trick of making this throw or cast with
the left hand, at the right time and in the right manner, was slowly
acquired—by some strong men, never acquired at all. In all cases,
hand-casting was hard work. To face types, writes August Bernard, the
type-caster must make the contortions of a maniac. It was slow work.
Fournier the younger, writing in 1764, says that the performance of
the type-caster of ordinary book types would vary from two thousand to
three thousand types per day. When this throw was made, the type-caster
removed the matrix with his right hand, and, giving the mould a toss,
threw out the type. The matrix was then replaced on the mould, and the
operations which have been described were repeated in the casting of
every subsequent type.
It must be confessed that this method of making types is not simple. It
is too circuitous in its processes, and too complex in its machinery,
to be regarded as the fruit of the first lucky thought of the inventor.
It is a scientific process, manifestly the result of thought and
protracted experiment. In its series of impressions, it is an emblem of
the art which it has created. The counter-punch impresses the punch,
the punch impresses the matrix, the melted metal impresses the matrix
and mould. One model letter on the punch is the instrument by which
millions of types are made; one letter on a type may serve in the
printing of millions of words. [p061]
The punch, matrix and mould are old inventions, but they are still in
use in all type-foundries. They have not been changed in any important
feature since they were explicitly described and illustrated for the
first time, by Joseph Moxon. As Moxon did not claim these implements
as his own invention—as we find in the writings of the authors who
preceded him notices of the art of cutting letters, and mention of
tools “which they called matrices,” and of “making types in brass”
[matrices or moulds], we have some reason for the belief that there has
never been any radical change in the processes of type-making.
Unfortunately, we have no minute description of the art of type-making
as it was practised before Moxon. Those who were competent to describe
the work, refrained from description, either because they thought that
the subject was trivial or technical, or because they intended to
conceal the process. The authors who did undertake to describe the art
were incompetent; they did not thoroughly understand the subject, and
have treated it slightingly and incorrectly. But we are not entirely in
the dark.
Our most authentic information is contained in a queer little book by
Jost Amman, which is known to modern book-collectors as _The Book of
Trades_,[14] and which was published at Frankfort-on-the-Main, in the
year 1564. The title of the book, with text in German, describes it as
_Hans Sachs’ Correct Description of all Arts, Ranks and Trades_, with
printed [p062] illustrations. The descriptions, so called, which were
written in verse, by Hans Sachs, the cobbler poet, are of no value
for this inquiry: they describe nothing. To men seeking trustworthy
information about art or manufactures, all the merit of the book is
in its numerous engravings on wood, which may be accepted as faithful
illustrations of the methods and usages observed during the sixteenth
century.
[Illustration: Type-Casting as Practised in 1564.
[From Jost Amman.]]
Among the illustrations is the _schriftgiesser_, or the type-founder,
with the accessories of his art about him. We see the furnace for
melting the metal, the bellows, the tongs and the basket of charcoal.
That the man is founding types is apparent, not only from the bowl of
cast types on the floor before the stool, but from his position with
spoon in hand. Here we begin to note differences. The type-caster of
1683 stands up to his work; the _schriftgiesser_ of Amman is sitting
down. The mould of 1683, like the hand moulds that were in use forty
years ago, is provided with a wire spring, to keep the matrix firmly
in position; the mould of Amman has no spring of iron wire and it is
nested in a pyramid-shaped box, which seems to be used as a protection
to the hand. How the mould was nested in the box, how the matrix was
attached to the mould, how the cast types were dislodged from the
mould, is not shown in the engraving. We have to regret [p063] that
the wood-cut is so small, and that Amman’s engraving is so coarse.
There are some indications that, in its more important features, the
mould of Amman was like that of Moxon. The little opening in the side
of the mould which rests on the shelf may have been an opening for the
insertion of matrices. That metal matrices were used is dimly shown by
the three little bars resting on the top of a small nest of drawers,
which has the appearance of a chest for punches and matrices. The
pyramidal box was not only the nest of the mould, but served also as a
support for the matrix. The sitting position of the caster permitted
him to give the box a throw or jerk; with his right hand at liberty, he
could pull out the mould and dislodge the type in the usual manner.
There are other features in Amman’s wood-cut requiring notice. Upon the
lower shelf are two crucibles, which were put in use, probably, when
making the alloy of type-metal. The use of the sieves is not apparent;
they may have been needed to sift the sand for the sand moulds, in
which bars of type-metal were made, and in which large initial types
were cast. The crucibles, the furnace, the mould, the position of the
type-caster, and the single types with jets attached, are enough to
prove that types were cast, one by one, by the process subsequently
described by Moxon. It is plain that the elementary principles of
type-founding were as clearly understood in 1564 as they are at this
day.
The most obscure feature in this wood-cut is the matrix. The three
little bits resting on the chest of drawers are too rudely cut to
enable us to decide positively that they are matrices. We infer that
they are from their surroundings and from the apparent necessity for
such implements; but it would be more satisfactory to know, and not
infer, that the early type-founders used matrices of hard metal.
There are no engravings of type-founding of earlier date than this cut
of Amman’s, but we have some evidences which point to a very early use
of moulds of hard metal. We find in many of the books of the sixteenth
and fifteenth centuries [p064] occasional allusions to type-making.
Considered separately, they are of little importance; considered
together, they are ample proof that types were made of fluid metal in
moulds and matrices of brass, not less than one hundred years before
Amman made his wood-cuts.
In 1507, Ivo Wittig put up a stone to the memory of John Gutenberg, on
which he had engraved that Gutenberg was the first to make printing
letters _in brass_. We do not find in any record of authority
that Gutenberg printed books by types cut out of brass. There are
difficulties connected with the cutting and use of brass types which
would make such an assertion incredible. If we accept the literal
translation of the Latin epitaph, and supplement it with a little
knowledge of type-founding, we shall then understand what Wittig
meant—that Gutenberg, by using melted metal, made types in brass moulds.
Trithemius, writing in 1514, observes that Gutenberg and Fust
“discovered a method of founding the forms of all the letters, which
they called matrices, from which they cast metal types.” The statement
of the bishop is somewhat confused, and his specification of Fust as an
inventor is, probably, incorrect, but every typographer who reads his
description cannot fail to see that he has endeavored to describe the
established method of making types—the method in use to this day.
Peter Schœffer, in a book printed by him in 1466, makes the book
metaphorically say, “I am cast at Mentz.” He says the types were cast,
although he elsewhere praises himself as a more skillful cutter of
letters than Fust or Gutenberg.
Bernard Cennini, writing at Florence in 1471, says that the letters of
his book were first cut and then cast.
Nicholas Jenson, who calls himself a cutter of books, says in one of
them, published in 1485, that the book, meaning the types of the book,
was cut and cast by a divine art.
Husner of Strasburg, in the imprint of a book made by him in 1473,
says (translating his language literally) that it was printed “with
sculptured letters from brass,” or, as it [p065] could be more clearly
construed, with letters in high relief, made from brass matrices. That
Husner did not mean to say that his printing types were cut out of
brass, is more clearly shown in the imprint of another book printed by
him in 1476, in which he says, literally, that it was printed, “without
doubt, with sculptured letters, scientifically begun in brass.”[15]
That the cutting, so frequently mentioned by the early printers, was
the cutting of punches, is apparent to every modern typographer who
knows that, in the manufacture of types, punch-cutting is not only
the first process in order of time, but first in order of artistic
importance. That the types said to be made of brass were made in brass
moulds and matrices could, in the absence of other proof, be inferred
from the appearance of the books of the fifteenth century. These types
often show varieties of the same letter and have other peculiarities
disagreeable to modern tastes, but there is strict uniformity in each
variety, and an accuracy of body which could have been secured by no
other method than [p066] that of casting them in moulds and matrices
of hard metal. There is other evidence which is even more direct. In
the Magliabechi library at Florence is preserved the original Cost Book
of the Directors of the Ripoli Press of that city, for the interval
between the years 1474 and 1483.[16] In this book may be found, among
other papers of value, a list of the prices which were then paid for
the supplies or materials used in the type-foundry connected with the
Ripoli Press. In this list we see the names of the metals that are used
in all modern type-foundries. There can be no question of the statement
that the types of this foundry were cast in metal moulds.
PRICES OF MATERIAL FOR THE TYPE-FOUNDRY.
_Materials._ _Tuscan_ _American_
_Currency_ _Currency_
_per pound._ _per pound._
Steel, lir. 2 8 0 $2.18
Metal, (Antimony?) 11 0 .50
Brass, 12 0 .54
Copper, 6 8 .30
Tin, 8 0 .36
Lead, 2 4 .10-1/2
Iron Wire, 8 0 .36
It would not be difficult to present additional evidence tending to
prove that the punch, the matrix and the mould of hard metal were used
by the earliest typographers, but this evidence will be given with more
propriety in another chapter. On this page, it is enough to record,
as the result of the future inquiry, that printing types have always
been made by one method. The significance of this fact should not be
overlooked. It has been shown that printing, as we now use it, could
not exist without types, and that there would be no types if we did not
know how to make them in adjustable type-moulds. In this type-mould
we find the key to the invention of typography. It is not the press,
nor the types, but the type-mould that must be accepted as the origin
and the symbol of the art. He was the inventor of [p067] typography,
and the founder of modern printing, who made the first adjustable
type-mould.
It is a curious circumstance, and not creditable to the sagacity of
the historians of typography, that the importance of this implement,
upon which the existence of typography depends, has never been fully
appreciated. That the type-mould was first made by the inventor of
typography need not be discussed. We have no knowledge that any method
of founding different sizes and forms from an adjustable mould was
attempted before the fifteenth century. There was no need for such a
mould in any other art. But we have indirect evidences in abundance
that the early printers considered their method of making types as a
meritorious and original invention. Peter Schœffer described it as a
new and unheard-of art; Bishop Trithemius said that it was found out
only through the good providence of God; Jenson said it was a divine
art; Husner said it was a scientific method; Wittig said that the
inventor has deserved well of the wide world. It would be useless to
attempt to add anything to these tributes—quite as useless to attempt
to break their force. Typography, made practicable and perfect by
means of the type-mould, was an original and a great invention. If the
inventor had produced nothing more than the type-mould, this would be
enough to entitle him to the highest honor.
It is tribute enough to acknowledge that the inventor of the type-mould
was the inventor of typography. It is not logical nor truthful to
attribute to him the introduction or the rediscovery of the simple
elements of relief printing. It is not derogatory to his honor to
confess that his labors were materially lightened by the services of
men who had gone before him and had prepared materials for his use.
The inventor of the type-mould did not invent paper, for that had been
known for two centuries before; he did not originate engraving on wood,
nor impressions from relief surfaces, for both processes were known
before paper was made; he was not the first to print upon paper, for
printed matter, in the [p068] forms of playing cards and prints of
pictures, was a merchantable commodity before he was born. He was not
the first to make printed books; it is not certain that he made the
first printing press; it is not probable that he was the first to think
of movable types. His merits rest on a securer basis. While others
dreamed and thought, and, no doubt, made experiments, he was the first
to do practical and useful work—the first to make types that could be
used—the first to demonstrate the utility of typography. The first
practical typographer, but not the first printer, he was really at the
end of a long line of unknown workmen whose knowledge and experience
in ruder forms of printing were important contributions toward the
invention of the perfect method.
The contributions made by the men who practised ruder forms of printing
demand a fuller description. The merit of printing with types cannot be
fully appreciated until it has been contrasted with the printing that
preceded types. It will be an instructive lesson to trace the origin of
a great art to its sources.
[p069]
IV
The Image Prints of the Fifteenth Century.
Were Engraved on Wood . . . Print of St. Christopher . . . Print of
Annunciation . . . Print of St. Bridget . . . Other German Engravings
on Wood . . . Flemish Indulgence Print . . . The Brussels Print
. . . The Berlin Print . . . All Image Prints from Germany or the
Netherlands . . . How were they Printed? . . . Not by the Frotton
. . . Methods of taking Proof now used by Engravers and Printers
. . . Images copied from Illustrated Manuscripts . . . Not made by
Monks . . . Images highly prized by the People . . . The Beginning of
Dissent in the Church . . . Preceded by Ruder Prints.
* * * * *
Book printing and picture printing have both the same inner cause
for their origin, namely, the impulse to make each mental gain a
common blessing. Not merely princes and rich nobles were to have
the privilege of adorning their private chapels and apartments with
beautiful religious pictures; the poorest man was also to have his
delight in that which the artist had devised and produced. It was not
sufficient for him when it stood in the church as an altar shrine,
visible to him and to the congregation from afar. He desired to have
it as his own, to carry it about with him, to bring it into his own
home. The grand importance of wood engraving and copper-plate is not
sufficiently estimated in historical investigations. They were not
alone of use in the advance of art; they form an epoch in the entire
life of mind and culture. The idea embodied and multiplied in pictures
became like that embodied in the printed word, the herald of every
intellectual movement, and conquered the world.
_Woltmann._
* * * * *
[Illustration: The Print of St. Christopher.
Size of original, 8-1/8 by 11-1/4 inches.]
One of the purposes to which early printing was applied was the
manufacture of engraved and colored pictures of sacred personages.
These pictures, or image prints, as they are called by bibliographers,
were made of many sizes; some of them are but little larger than the
palm of the hand, others are of the size of a half sheet of foolscap.
In a few prints there are peculiarities of texture which have provoked
the thought that they may have been printed from plates of [p070]
soft metal like lead or pewter; but this conjecture has never been
verified. We find in many of the prints the clearest indications that
they were taken from engravings on wood. With a few exceptions, these
prints were colored; some were painted, but more were colored by means
of stenciling, as is abundantly proved by the mechanical irregularities
which are always produced by the occasional slipping of the stencil.
The colors are gross, glaring, and so inartistically applied that the
true outlines of the figures are frequently obscured. The quality of
the engraving is unequal; some prints are neatly, and others are rudely
cut, but in nearly all of them the engraving is in simple outline. We
seldom see any shading tints, or any cross-hatchings, rarely ever any
attempt to produce a perspective by the use of fine or faint lines.
The absence of shading lines is not entirely due to the imperfect
skill of the engravers. The engravings seem to have been cut for no
other purpose than that of showing the colors of the stencil painter
to advantage, by giving a definite edge to masses of color. The taste
for prints in black and white had not then been developed. To the
print-buyer of the fifteenth century, the attraction of the image
print was not in its drawing, but in its vivid color, and its supposed
resemblance to the paintings that adorned [p071] the walls of churches
and monasteries. The image print of the fifteenth century was the
prototype of the modern chromo.
The St. Christopher, a bold and rude engraving on wood, which
represents the saint in the act of carrying the infant Saviour across
a river, is one of the most remarkable of the image prints. This print
was discovered in the cover of an old manuscript volume of 1417,
among the books of one of the most ancient convents of Germany, the
Chartreuse at Buxheim, near Memmingen, in Suabia.[17] The monks said
that the volume was given to the convent by Anna, canoness of Buchau,
who is known to have been living in 1427. The name of the engraver
is unknown. This convent is about fifty miles from Augsburg, a city
which seems to have been the abode of some of the early engravers on
wood. The date is obscurely given in Roman numerals at the foot of the
picture.
‹f›Christoferi faciem die quacunque tueris, Millesimo cccc.‹/f›
‹f›Illa nempe die morte mala non morieris. rrº tertio.‹/f›
In whatsoever day thou seest the likeness of St. Christopher,
In that same day thou wilt at least from death no
evil blow incur. 1423.
The date 1423 is evidence only so far as it shows that the block was
engraved in that year. The printing could have been done at a later
date. As it is printed in an ink that is almost black (in which feature
it differs from other early image prints, that are almost invariably
in a dull or faded brown ink), there is reason to believe that this
print was made some time after the engraving, when the method of making
prints with permanent black ink was more common. [p072]
This engraving has its merits as well as its absurdities. Chatto
says that the design is better than any he has found in the earlier
type-printed books; that the figure of the saint and that of the
youthful Christ are, with the exception of the extremities, designed in
such a style that they would scarcely discredit Albert Durer himself.
The accessories are grotesquely treated. One peasant is driving an
ass with a loaded sack to a water-mill; another is toiling with a bag
of grain up a steep hill to his house; another, to the right, holds a
lantern. The relative proportions of these figures are but a little
less absurd than those made famous in Hogarth’s ironical study of false
perspective.
[Illustration: The Annunciation.]
These faults of drawing are counterbalanced by real merits of
engraving. There is a noticeable thickening and tapering of lines in
proper places, a bold and a free marking of the folds of drapery, and
a general neatness and cleverness of cutting that indicate the hand of
a practised and judicious engraver. This engraving of St. Christopher
is obviously not the first experiment of an amateur or an untaught
inventor.
In the book which contained this print of the St. Christopher was
also found, pasted down within the cover, another [p073] engraving
on wood, that is now known as the Annunciation. It is of about the
same size as the print of St. Christopher. It is printed on the same
kind of paper, with the same dull black ink. There is some warrant for
the general belief that both engravings were executed at or about the
same time, but they are so unlike that they cannot be considered as
the work of the same designer nor of the same engraver. The lines of
the Annunciation are more sharply cut; the drawing has more of detail;
there are no glaring faults of perspective.
The Virgin is represented as receiving the salutation of the angel
Gabriel; the Holy Spirit descends in the shape of a dove proceeding
from a part of the print which has been destroyed, and in which was
some symbol of the Almighty. The black field in the centre of the print
was left unrouted by the engraver, apparently for no other purpose than
that of lightening the work of the colorist, who would otherwise have
been required to paint it black. This method of producing the full
blacks of a colored print was practised by many of the early engravers.
Full black shoes on the feet of human figures may be noticed in many of
Caxton’s wood-cuts while other portions of the print are in outline.
There are portions of this print in which the practical engraver will
note an absence of shading where shades seem to be needed. The body of
the Virgin appears as naked, except where it is covered by her mantle.
It was intended that an inner garment should be indicated by the brush
of the colorist. What the early engravers on wood could not do with the
graver, they afterward did with the brush. They not only printed but
colored their prints, and the colored work was usually done in a free
and careless manner.
These prints do not contain internal evidences of their origin. They
were found in Germany, but there is nothing in the designs, nor yet in
their treatment, that is distinctively German. The faces and costumes
reveal to us no national characteristics; the legends are in Latin; the
architecture of the Annunciation is decidedly Italian. [p074]
But there is a print known as the St. Bridget, a print supposed to be
of nearly the same age as the St. Christopher, which gives us at least
an indication of the people by whom it was purchased and of the country
in which it was printed.
[Illustration: St. Bridget.]
Saint Bridget of Sweden, born 1302, died 1373, was one of the chosen
saints of Germany. The print represents her as writing in a book while
the Virgin and the infant Christ look down approvingly. The letters
S. P. Q. R. on the shield, and the pilgrim’s hat, staff and scrip
are supposed to indicate her pilgrimages to Rome and Jerusalem. The
armorial shield has the arms of Sweden. The legend, if it can be so
called, at the top of the print is in German: _O Brigita bit got für
uns_—O, Bridget, pray to God for us. The letters _M. I. Chrs_ at the
bottom of the print have been construed as, Mother of Jesus Christ.
The lines of this print are of a dull brown color. The face and hands
are of flesh color, the gown, hat and scrip are dark grey; the desk,
the staff, letters, lion and crown, as well as the glory or nimbus
about the head, are yellow. The ground is green, and the whole cut is
surrounded with a border of shining lake or mulberry color. This harsh
[p075] arrangement of the colors is a proper illustration of the
inferiority of the workmanship of the colorist to that of the designer.
Other prints in European libraries have been attributed to unknown
engravers of Germany, who are supposed to have practised their art
between the years 1400 and 1450. One of these prints, to which is
attached a short prayer and the date of 1437, and which was discovered
in a monastery in the Black Forest near the border of Suabia,[18]
represents the martyrdom of St. Sebastian. These prints are rare:
of the St. Christopher only three copies are known;[19] of the St.
Bridget and Annunciation there is but one copy each. All of them were
discovered in German religious houses, in which places it seems that
they have been preserved ever since they were printed. They were found
in a part of Germany that is famous as the abode of early engravers on
wood, and as the birthplace of several great German artists. Prints of
a similar nature were subsequently made in Germany in greater quantity
than in any other part of Europe. The legend of St. Bridget is in
German; the costumes of the archers in St. Sebastian are German. They
are trustworthy evidences in favor of the hypothesis that engraving on
wood was first practised in Germany.
This hypothesis has been disputed. It is opposed by several
contradictory theories, which may be stated in the following words:
(1) that engraving on wood was applied to the manufacture of playing
cards in France at the end of the fourteenth century; (2) that it
was derived from China; (3) that it was invented in Italy; (4) that
it was practised in the Netherlands before it was known in Germany.
As the theories of French, Chinese and Italian origin have no early
[p076] prints of images to offer, they need not be considered in this
chapter. The argument in favor of a very early practice of engraving in
the Netherlands is based on its prints of images. [p077]
[Illustration: The Flemish Indulgence Print.]
The illustration on the opposite page is the reduced fac-simile of
an old print once known as the _Indulgence Print of 1410_, and then
considered as of greater age than the print of Saint Christopher. The
inscription at the foot of the indulgence; which is in old Dutch or
Flemish, is to this effect:
“Whoever, regarding the sufferings of our Lord, shall truly repent
of his sins, and shall thrice repeat the _Pater Noster_ and the _Ave
Maria_, shall be entitled to seventeen thousand years of indulgence,
which have been granted to him by Pope Gregory, as well as by two
other popes and by forty bishops. [This has been done so that] the
rich as well as the poor may try to secure this indulgence.”
That this print was made in Flanders is apparent from the language,
as well as from the peculiar shape of the letter t at the end of
words. The perpendicular bar dropping from the top of this t was so
seldom used in Germany that it may be regarded as a very old Flemish
mannerism. That the print was engraved in 1410 is extremely improbable.
The Pope Gregory here mentioned is undoubtedly Pope Gregory xii, who
reigned from 1406 to 1415. It was once believed that the two other
popes mentioned in the indulgence were the rivals of Gregory, the
anti-popes Benedict XII and John XXII. It was supposed that this print
was published during this period,[20] and for this reason, it has
sometimes been called the _Indulgence Print of 1410_. [p078]
M. Wetter, a learned German critic, has pointed out the absurdity of
the belief that three popes at enmity with each other should unite in
the promulgation of this document.[21] It is now understood that the
two other popes mentioned in the indulgence are Pope Nicholas V, who
reigned from 1447 to 1455, and Pope Calixtus III, who reigned from 1455
to 1458. The publication of the indulgence is therefore placed between
the years 1455 and 1471. Consequently, the print is of no value as an
evidence of Flemish priority, for it was made more than thirty years
after the St. Christopher.
A much more satisfactory evidence of the great age of Flemish engraving
on wood is afforded by the _Brussels Print_, which was discovered in
1848 by an innkeeper, pasted down on the inside of an old chest. It
was bought by an architect of the town of Mechlin, who sold it for
five hundred francs to the Royal Library of Brussels, where it is now
preserved. This print bears the date 1418, but the validity of the
date has been challenged. It was alleged that the numerals that form
the date had been repaired with a lead pencil in such a manner as to
provoke doubts of its genuineness; that the true date is 1468, instead
of 1418; that an alteration was made, by scratching out the L from
the middle of the numerals [thus, MCCCC(L)XVIII] and by substituting
a period—a fraud that puts the date backward fifty years. The charge
of fraud has been denied with ability, and seemingly with justice. The
print has passed the ordeal of hostile criticism, and is now accepted
as a genuine print of 1418. It represents the Virgin and infant
Saviour, when surrounded by St. Barbara, St. Catharine, St. Veronica
and St. Margaret. The design is somewhat stiff and mechanical, but the
composition is not devoid of merit. The lines of the engraving were
purposely broken, for it was intended that the print should be more
fully developed by the bright colors [p079] of the stencil painter.
The fac-simile is taken from Holtrop’s _Monuments typographiques_.
Holtrop says that the fac-simile is slightly reduced in height. The
size of the block, as he represents it, is 9-7/8 by 13-3/4 American
inches. [p080]
[Illustration: The Brussels Print.]
The Flemish origin of the _Brussels Print_ is established by an
image, in the Cabinet of Engravings at Berlin, now known as the
_Berlin Print_. It is of the same size as the _Brussels Print_, and
is, apparently, the work of the same designer, for in these prints
a remarkable similarity of treatment in designing and engraving may
be noticed in the wings of the angels, in the figure and position of
the angel who crowns the Virgin, in the crowns of St Catharine and
the Virgin, in the flowing hair of the three saints, and that of the
Virgin, and in the collars on the doves. This print represents the
Virgin as carrying in her arms the infant Saviour. It is described in
the catalogue as an early xylographic engraving, printed by friction
about the middle of the fifteenth century. It is without date or name
of artist. The language of the legend is Flemish. The Virgin holds
in her right arm the infant Jesus, and in her left hand an apple.
The child caresses the chin of his mother with one hand, while he
drops a rose from the other. The Virgin, enshrined in an aureole of
glory, encircled by four angels and four doves, placidly stands upon
a crescent. The legend in the four corners is in metre, and is an
exhortation to the reader to serve the Virgin, and imitate her example.
Who is this queen who is thus exalted?
She is the consolation of the world.
What is her name? tell me, I pray!
Mary, blessed Mother and Virgin.
How did she attain this exaltation?
By love, humility and charity.
Who will be uplifted with her, on high?
Whoever knows her best in life.
Connoisseurs in prints disagree as to the age and merit of this print.
Passavant says that the _Berlin Print_, which he describes as of
fine execution, is undoubtedly of Dutch origin, but he thinks it is
the design of a German artist. He places its date in the same period
as that of the _Brussels Print_, which, according to him, is 1468.
Renouvier says that the outlines of the _Berlin Print_ are in the style
of well-known Dutch or Flemish prints. He hazards no conjecture as to
[p081] the exact date of its publication, but intimates that it may
properly be classified with the older prints of the Netherlands.
[Illustration: The Berlin Print.]
Holtrop says that the language of the legend in the Berlin print
decides its origin; the design is of the [p082] Netherlandish school;
the language is Flemish, and not Dutch. He further says: “These two
prints (of Berlin and Brussels) complement each other; the print of
Berlin shows their common origin; the print of Brussels indicates
their date. It may be said that they were engraved in the Netherlands,
probably in Flanders, and perhaps in Bruges, at the beginning of the
fifteenth century.”
The prints herein described are the earliest prints with dates, but
they are not, necessarily, the earliest of all. There are prints known
to collectors as the _Crucifixion_, the _Last Judgment_ and the _St.
Jerome_, which are regarded by many bibliographers as the work of
unknown engravers at or about 1400. There is a print of _St. George_
which competent judges say was done in the thirteenth century. None
of the prints contain the name or the place of the engravers, but it
is plain that they were made in the Southern Netherlands, as well as
in Southern Germany. It would be premature to assume that they were
made nowhere else; but it must be acknowledged that there are no image
prints on paper which can be ascribed to any engraver in France,
Italy, Spain, Holland or England, during the first fifty years of the
fifteenth century. There is a plausible statement on record, which will
be reviewed on another page, that artistic engravings on wood were
made in Italy before this period. We find, also, a more questionable
statement, that engraving on wood was practised in France before the
year 1400—a statement based entirely on a print in the public library
of the city of Lyons, with a printed date which has been represented
as that of the year 1384. The age of this print has been denied. It is
alleged, with every appearance of probability, that there is mistake or
fraud in the numerals, for the costumes of the figures prove that the
print should have been made in the sixteenth century.
The question whether image prints were first made in the Netherlands
or in Suabia need not now be considered. It is enough to say that,
although the Brussels print bears the earliest date, the manufacture of
these image prints was more [p083] common in Germany, not only in the
first but in the latter half of the fifteenth century. That these few
accidentally discovered prints represent the half, or even one-tenth,
of the images then published, is not at all probable. We have good
reason for the belief that they were as abundant in Southern Germany
during the year 1450 as cheap lithographs were in the United States
during the year 1830. That the greater part of these image prints have
been destroyed and forgotten may be explained by the improved taste
of the succeeding generation. The artistic copper-plate prints which
came in fashion soon after swept away as rubbish the once admired image
prints, just as the chromos of this period have supplanted the painted
lithographic prints of 1830.
How were these images printed? Almost every author who has written on
printing has said that they were printed by friction, with a tool known
as the frotton, which has been described as a small cushion of cloth
stuffed with wool. It is said that when the block had been inked, and
the sheet of paper had been laid on the block, the frotton was rubbed
over the back of the sheet until the ink was transferred to the paper.
We are also told that the paper was not dampened, but was used in its
dry state. The shining appearance on the back of the paper is offered
as evidence of friction. This explanation of the method used by the
printers of engraved blocks has been accepted, not as a conjecture, but
as the description of a known fact. I know of no good authority for
it. I know no author who professes to have seen the process. I know no
engraver who has taken impressions with a cloth frotton. I doubt the
feasibility of the method. The reasons for this doubt will be apparent
when this conjectural method is contrasted with the methods used by
modern printers and engravers for taking proofs off of press.
The modern engraver on wood takes his proofs on thin India paper. He
uses a stuffed cushion to apply the ink to the cut. The ink, which
is sticky, serves to make thin paper adhere to the block. He gets an
impression by rubbing the [p084] back of the paper after it is laid
on the block, with an ivory burnisher. If he is careful, he can take
with a burnisher a neater proof than he could get from a press. But
the only point of similarity between the imaginary old process and the
present process is in the method of rubbing or friction. The materials
are different: the modern paper is thin and soft, the old was coarse
and harsh; modern ink is glutinous, medieval ink was watery; the
burnisher is hard, the frotton was very elastic; the burnisher will
give a shining appearance to the back, the soft frotton will not. If
the modern engraver should attempt to use coarse, thick, dry paper,
fluid ink, and a cloth frotton, he could not keep the sheet in place on
the block during the slow process of rubbing. No care could prevent it
from slipping when rubbed with an elastic cushion. The least slip would
produce a distorted impression.
The modern printer takes his proof on dampened paper with a tool known
as the proof-planer. This proof-planer is a small thick block of wood,
one side of which is perfectly flat and covered with thick cloth. When
the paper, which must be dampened, has been laid on the inked type
or engraving, the printer places the planer carefully on the paper,
holding it firmly with his left hand; with a mallet, held in his right
hand, he strikes a strong hard blow on the planer. He then lifts his
planer carefully and places it over the nearest unprinted surface and
repeats the blow. In like manner he repeats the blow until every part
of the type surface has been printed. Rude as this method may seem,
a skillful workman can obtain a fair print with the planer. Although
the wet paper clings to the type, and the ink is sticky, great care
is needed to prevent the slipping of the sheet, and the doubling of
the impression. The back of a thick sheet printed in this manner often
shows a shining appearance in the places where the blow was resisted by
the face of the type or by the engraved lines.
It will be seen that the printer’s method of taking proof differs in
all its details from the supposititious method of the [p085] early
engravers. We have soft, damp paper, sticky ink, and a sudden flat
pressure against a hard surface shielded with cloth, in opposition to
fluid ink, dry paper, rubbing pressure and an elastic printing tool.
As we can find no positive knowledge of the method of printing which
was adopted by the early printers of engravings on wood, it is somewhat
hazardous to offer conjectures in place of facts. It is begging the
question to assume that they were not printed by a press. The presswork
of early prints is coarse and harsh, and could have been done with
simple mechanism, with rude applications of the screw or of the lever,
that could have been devised by any intelligent workman. It is more
reasonable to assume that the early prints were made by a press, or
with some practicable tool like a proof-planer, rather than with
the impracticable frotton. One cannot resist the suspicion that the
chronicler of early block printing who first described the frotton
attempted to describe what he did not thoroughly understand—that he
mistook the engraver’s inking cushion for the tool by which he got the
impression.
It should be noticed that all these old prints are of a religious
character. Portraits of remarkable men or women, landscapes,
representations of cities or buildings, caricatures, illustrations of
history or mythology—none of these are to be found in any collection
of the earliest prints. The early engravers were completely under the
domination of religious ideas. Their prints seem to have been made with
the permission, and possibly under the direction, of proper clerical
authority. The designs are of much greater merit than any that could
have been created by amateurs in the art of engraving on wood. They
were, undoubtedly, copied from the illuminated books of piety which
were then to be found in all large monasteries. Ecclesiastics of this
period were careful of their books and jealous of their privileges,
and not disposed to allow either to become cheap or common, but they
must have favored an art that multiplied the images of [p086] patron
saints. It was an age of great disbelief, and the image prints were of
service as reminders of religious duty.
There is no evidence that these prints were made by the monks
themselves. There is a statement current in German books of
bibliography that one Luger, a Franciscan monk in Nordlingen, engraved
on wood at the end of the fourteenth century. But this statement
needs verification. It is not at all certain that the word which is
here translated engraver on wood was written with clear intention to
convey this meaning. The earliest typographers were not monks, nor were
they favored with the patronage of the church.[22] It is not probable
that any monk who had been educated for the work of a copyist or an
illuminator, would forsake his profession for the practice of engraving
on wood or printing. Prints, as then made, were coarse, mechanical
copies of meritorious originals. The artistic scribe rightfully felt
that engraving was beneath him. He must have looked on the people who
bought image prints with the same pitying scorn that a true artist
feels for the uneducated taste of those who now buy glaring lithographs
of sacred personages, and he must have felt as little inducement to
engage in their manufacture.
And yet the multitude received them gladly. Wealthy laymen who could
afford to buy gorgeous missals, and priests who daily saw and handled
manuscript works of art, might put the prints aside as rubbish;
but poor men and women, whose work-day lives were unceasing rounds
of poverty and drudgery, unrelieved by art, ideality or sentiment,
must have hailed with gladness the images in their own houses which
shadowed ever so dimly the glories of the church and the rewards of
the righteous. The putting-up of the image print on the wall of the
hut or the cabin was the first step toward [p087] bringing one of the
attractions of the Catholic church within the domestic circle. It was
the erection of a private shrine, an act of rivalry, pitiable enough
in its beginning, but of great importance in its consequences. For
it was the initiation of the right of private judgment, and of the
independence of thought which, in the next century, made itself felt in
the formidable dissent known in all Protestant countries as the Great
Reformation.
Our knowledge of the origin of engraving on wood has not been
materially increased by the recent discovery of the _Berlin_ and
_Brussels Prints_. We see that wood-cuts of merit were made during
the first quarter of the fifteenth century, but we see also that they
could not have been the first productions of a recently discovered or
newly revived art. They present indications of a skill in engraving
which could have been acquired only through experience. One has but to
compare them with wood-cuts made by amateurs in typographic printing in
Italy, Germany and Holland between the years 1460 and 1500, to perceive
that the manufacturers of the image prints were much more skillful
as engravers. If there were no other evidences, we could confidently
assume that this skill could have been acquired only by practice on
ruder and earlier engravings. Of this preliminary practice-work we find
clear traces in the stenciled and printed playing cards which were
popular in many parts of Europe before the introduction of images.
[p088]
V
Printed and Stenciled Playing Cards.
Playing Cards not made by the Frotton . . . Their Manufacture
an Industry of Importance . . . Decree of the Senate of Venice
prohibiting the Importation of Cards . . . Early Notices of
Card-Making in Germany . . . Probable Method of Manufacture . . .
Illustrations of a Playing Card of the Fifteenth Century . . . Jost
Amman’s Illustrations of a Print Colorer and an Engraver on Wood
. . . Playing Cards made from Engraved Blocks . . . Early Notices of
Card Playing in France . . . Cards Prohibited to the People in France
and Spain . . . Introduced in Italy in 1379 . . . Not Invented in
Germany . . . An Oriental Game . . . Illustrations of Chinese Cards
. . . Originated in Hindostan . . . Transmitted to Europe through the
Saracens . . . Popularity of Cards in Europe . . . Cards Denounced by
the Clergy . . . New Forms and New Games of Cards, with Illustrations
. . . Unsuccessful Attempts to make Cards a Means of Instruction
. . . Cards not an Unmixed Evil . . . Induced Respect for Letters
and Education . . . Cards probably made before Images . . . Made by
Block-Printing . . . Most largely made by this process in Germany.
* * * * *
After innumerable experiments and disappointments, the art so
eagerly sought and so sorely needed was at last discovered. And
what is strange, although in accordance with the capriciousness of
invention, this art that had eluded all the efforts and aspirations
of intelligence, was discovered by makers of cards. It was by them,
and for the peculiar requirements of their work, that xylography was
invented.
_Bibliophile Jacob._
* * * * *
The hypothesis, for it is nothing more, that all the early prints were
produced by the frotton does not satisfactorily explain the large
production of merchantable printed matter during the first half of the
fifteenth century. Friction would have served then, as it does now, for
trial proofs or experiments, but it was a method altogether too slow
and uncertain to meet the requirements of an extended business. The
playing cards and prints so common during this period must have been
made by a quicker method. That there was an established international
trade in playing cards and in other kinds of printed work, as early as
the year 1441, may be inferred from the following decree of the senate
of Venice: [p089]
1441, Oct 11. Whereas, the art and mystery of making cards and printed
figures, which is in use at Venice, has fallen to decay, and this in
consequence of the great quantity of printed playing cards and colored
figures which are made out of Venice, to which evil it is necessary
to apply some remedy, in order that the said artists, who are a great
many in family, may find encouragement rather than foreigners: Let
it be ordained and established, according to the petition that the
said masters have supplicated, that from this time in future, no work
of the said art that is printed or painted on cloth or paper-that
is to say, altar-pieces, or images, or playing cards, or any other
thing that may be made by the said art, either by painting or by
printing-shall be allowed to be brought or imported into this city,
under pain of forfeiting the work so imported, and thirty livres and
twelve soldi, of which fine one-third shall go to the state, one-third
to Giustizieri Vecchi, to whom this affair is committed, and one-third
to the accuser. With this condition, however, that the artists who
make the said works in this city shall not expose the said works
for sale in any other place but their own shops, under the penalty
aforesaid, except on the day of Wednesday at S. Paolo, and on Saturday
at S. Marco.[23]
The engraved images here noticed were probably prints of saints or
sacred personages like those of which engraved illustrations have been
given on previous pages. The altar-pieces were prints upon cotton or
linen cloth, of a similar character, but of much larger size.[24]
Playing cards, which are twice mentioned in the decree, seem to have
been considered as of equal importance with images and altar-pieces.
The specification of three distinct kinds of printed work, coupled as
it is with the allusion to “any other thing that may be made by the
said art,” is an intimation that the manufacturers, “who were a great
many [p090] in family,” were even then applying the art of printing and
colored stenciling to many other purposes.
The decree says that the art had fallen to decay. When it was in its
most prosperous condition in Venice cannot be ascertained from the
record, nor from any other source. The author[25] who found this
document says that he had fragments of coarse engravings on wood which
represented some parts of the city of Venice as they appeared before
the year 1400. He thinks these rude engravings must have been cut
in the latter part of the fourteenth century. That they could have
been made at this time is not improbable, but the direct evidence is
wanting. There are, however, abundant reasons for the belief that
engravings on wood were made in Venice, not experimentally, but in the
way of business, many years before the decree of 1441. And they must
have been made elsewhere. The printers of playing cards and colored
figures must have been many in family beyond as well as in Venice. If
the foreign printers had not been formidable competitors, there would
have been no request for the prohibitory decree.
Nothing is said in the decree about the nationality of the foreign
competitors, but we may get this knowledge from another source. An
authentic record of the town of Ulm in Germany contains a brief entry
which tells us that playing cards in barrels were sent from that
city to Sicily and Italy, to be bartered for delicacies and general
merchandise.[26] [p091]
The same book contains a defense of the game of playing cards under
the date of 1397. Another old German record, the Burgher Book of
Augsburg for the year 1418, specifically notices card-makers. The
Tax Book of Nuremberg, for the years 1433 and 1435, names Eliza, a
card-maker. The same book, for the year 1438, mentions Margaret,
the card-painter. The words _kartenmacherin_, card-maker, and
_kartenmalerin_, card-painter, which are found in these books, do not
clearly specify the process. It has been suggested that these cards
could have been drawn and painted by means of stencil plates.
The word _formschneider_, form-cutter, the word now used in Germany
as the equivalent of engraver on wood, appears for the first time in
the year 1449, in the books of the city of Nuremberg. The same records
mention one Wilhelm Kegler, _briftrucker_, or card-printer, under the
date of 1420. They also mention one _Hans Formansneider_, in the year
1397, but Formansneider should not be construed as engraver on wood. It
should be read Hans Forman, _schneider_ or tailor. In this, as in some
other cases, it will be seen that the facility of the German language
for making new words by the compounding of old ones, is attended with
peculiar disadvantages. The manufactured words are susceptible of
different meanings.
These notices of card-making are not enough to prove that the process
employed was that of xylography. They prove only that card-making was
an industry of note in the towns of Ulm, Augsburg and Nuremberg. But
when these notices of early card-making are considered in connection
with early German prints, like the St. Christopher of 1423, which were
discovered in the vicinity of these towns, there is no room for doubt.
If prints of saints were made by engraving on wood, cards should have
been made by the same art. The connection of cards and image prints in
the decree of the Senate of Venice is evidence that they were made by
the same persons and by the same process.
It may seem strange that the little town of Ulm, in the heart of
Germany, should establish by a long sea route a trade [p092] in
playing cards with cities on the Mediterranean and the Adriatic. It
is but one of many evidences of the growing spirit of commercial
enterprise which pervaded all the cities of Germany. It is not more
strange than the fact that, in 1505, merchants of Augsburg, a city at a
great distance from navigable waters, joined with the Portuguese in an
extensive traffic with the eastern coast of Africa.
Playing cards may have been made at as early dates in other countries
besides Germany and Italy. We shall soon see that they were in
common use in many parts of Europe at the beginning of the fifteenth
century, but we have no certain knowledge that they were made from
engraved blocks in other places. Our knowledge of the fact that they
were printed in Italy and Germany is based entirely on occasional
notices in old manuscript records. We have indications that they were
printed, but we lack the proof. There are no cards in existence which
can be offered, with any degree of confidence, as specimens of the
block-printing of 1440. The xylographic cards of which fac-similes are
most common in books which treat of pastimes, are of the sixteenth
century; the copper-plate cards described and illustrated by Weigel and
Breitkopf were made either during the latter half of the fifteenth or
in the sixteenth century.
The engraving on the following page is a fac-simile of one of a set
of forty-eight playing cards now preserved in the British Museum. The
entire set, printed on six separate sheets of paper, eight cards to
each sheet, was found in that great hiding-place of discarded sheets,
the inner lining of a book cover, for which, to adopt the bookbinder’s
phrase, it served as a stiffener. The sheets may have been rejected
for imperfections, and put in the book cover because they were
unsalable. The book in which they were found was printed and bound
by some unknown or undescribed printer before the year 1500.[27] If
rudeness of engraving could be considered [p093] as sufficient proof
of superior antiquity, this card should be rated as one of the oldest
pieces of engraving on wood. The cutting of this block could have been
done by any carver on wood, or even by a carpenter. But the quality of
the engraving is not a proper criterion of the condition of the art
of engraving on wood during the period in which it was made. It is
obviously a cheap card, made for the uses of people who could pay but a
small price. There may have been other reasons for the rudeness of the
work. The stiff and conventional manner of drawing the figures may have
been as popular then as a similar method of designing playing cards is
at this day.
[Illustration: A Playing Card of the Fifteenth Century.
[From Singer.]]
Dull red and dark green were the only colors used in illuminating this
set of cards. They were laid on with brush and stencil. The stencil
is one of the oldest forms of labor-saving contrivance for abridging
the labor of writing or drawing. It was used, as has been stated,
in the sixth century by a Roman emperor who could not write; it was
used for the same purpose by Theodoric, king of the Ostrogoths, and
by the emperor Charlemagne. It is used to this day by merchants who
mark boxes, in preference to writing, printing, branding, or painting.
It has advantages of cheapness and simplicity that commend it to all
manufacturers. It is even used by publishers of books for tinting maps,
fashion plates, and illuminated pamphlet covers.
Jost Amman, in his Book of Trades, has presented us a representation
of the print stenciler, as he practised his work [p094] in 1564. The
method here shown is, probably, the method in general use in 1440,
for the coloring of playing cards and image prints. We see the bowls
that contain different colors, with their proper brushes, on top of
the chest. The colorer is sweeping the brush over the perforated metal
plate, and filling up the outlines of the print. The neat pile of
sheets before him and near his right hand shows that he is working
with precision and with system. Stencil painting was work of care and
neatness, but it was so simple that we can clearly understand that it
could have been done by women in Nuremberg as effectively as it is done
now.[28]
[Illustration: The Print Colorer.
[From Jost Amman.]]
The illustration of the engraver on wood which appears in the same
_Book of Trades_ puts before us a man in a richer dress, plainly a
workman of higher grade than the stencil painter. He seems to be
tracing outlines on the block. The technical accessories about this
engraver are the same as those in use at this day—the graver, the
whetstone, and, possibly, a water globe lens in the corner near the
window casement.[29] [p095]
Playing cards and engraving on wood bear to each other a curious
relation. The introduction of the cards in Europe was soon followed
by the revival, or as Bibliophile Jacob of Paris characterizes it, by
the invention, of engraving on wood. Whatever differences of opinion
may exist as to whether the art was revived or invented, it is certain
that playing cards were the means by which early printing was made
popular. Cards were the only kind of printed work which promised to
repay the labor of engraving. People who could neither read nor write,
and who had no desire to be taught either accomplishment, derived great
pleasure from them. There was no other kind of printed matter, not even
the image prints, which found so many buyers in every condition of
society. The fixing of the earliest practice as a regular business of
engraving on wood in Europe depends, in some degree, on the fixing of
the date of the first introduction of playing cards. The determination
of this date has been made a national question, and the theme of books
containing much curious information.
[Illustration: The Engraver on Wood.
[From Jost Amman.]]
Ambrose Firmin Didot[30] quotes a scrap of poetry from a French romance
of 1328, which alludes to the folly of games of dice, checkers and
cards. Other French writers maintain that playing cards were in use in
France as early as 1350. [p096] Bullet says that playing cards were
used in France in the year 1376. But the testimony in confirmation of
these dates is ambiguous and insufficient. The first unequivocal notice
of playing cards in France is to be found in an account book for the
year 1392, kept by one Charles Poupart, treasurer to Charles VI. In
this book is an entry to this effect: “Paid to Jacquemin Gringonneur,
painter, for three packs of cards, gilded, colored, and ornamented
with various designs, for the amusement of our lord the king, 56 sols
of Paris.” The mind of Charles VI had been seriously affected by
sunstroke, and these cards were provided for his lucid intervals during
which he suffered from melancholy. We are not told how these cards
were made—whether they were first drawn by hand, or whether they were
printed from cut blocks before they were painted. The price paid was
not small: fifty-six sols of Paris in 1393 would be equivalent to one
hundred and fifty francs in 1874. In 1454, a pack of cards purchased
for the Dauphin of France cost but five sous of Tours, the equivalent
of twelve or thirteen francs of modern French money.[31] The difference
in these prices is some indication of a cheapened manufacture.
The earliest and most convincing evidence of the popularity of playing
cards in Paris is contained in an order of the provost of that city,
under the date of 1397, in which order he forbids working people from
indulging in games of tennis, bowls, dice, cards, or nine-pins on
working days. That the game was then comparatively new is inferred from
the omission of playing cards in an ordinance of the city of Paris, for
the year 1369, in which other popular games were minutely specified.
The Cabinet of Prints attached to the National Library at Paris
contains seventeen cards which are supposed to be the relics of the
three packs made for Charles VI by Gringonneur; but these cards were,
without doubt, drawn by hand. This cabinet has no printed cards which
can be attributed to the [p097] fourteenth century. Its oldest relics
of this kind are eighteen printed cards which may have been made in
France during the reign of Charles VII, or between the years 1442 and
1461.[32]
Playing cards seem to have been popular in Spain before they were known
in France. They were supposed to be so demoralizing to the people,
that John I, king of Castile, in the year 1387, thought it necessary,
to prohibit them entirely. To have acquired this popularity, the
cards should have been made by some process as economical as that of
printing. We have, however, no knowledge that the cards were printed.
They could have been made by stencils. Chatto says that the relics of
playing cards which he thought were the oldest were made exclusively
with stencils.
Cards were known in Italy as early as 1379. An old manuscript history
of the town of Viterbo, which states this fact, says that “In this
year, a year of great distress [occasioned by the war between the
anti-pope Clement VII and the pope Urban VI], was brought into Viterbo,
the game of cards, which came from the land of the Saracens, and by
them is called Naib.” [p098]
Many German authors claim that playing cards were in common use
throughout Germany at a much earlier period. Breitkopf quotes the
following passage from a book called the _Golden Mirror_, said to have
been written about the middle of the fifteenth century by a Dominican
friar of the name of Ingold: “The game is right deceitful, and, as I
have read, was first brought in Germany in the year 1300.”[33] Another
writer quotes an old chronicle, that describes the emperor Rudolph
as amusing himself with cards in the old town of Augsburg at some
undefined time before his death in 1291. It cannot be proved that the
cards here mentioned were true playing cards. It is more probable
that the amusement noticed was the game of king and queen, which was
forbidden to the clergy by the synod of Worcester in 1240, and which
has sometimes been erroneously understood as a game of cards. The
notices of card-makers and card-printers in the town books of Nuremberg
and Augsburg should be regarded as the earliest records of the use of
playing cards in Germany.[34]
[Illustration: Chinese Playing Cards.
[From Breitkopf.]]
A review of the dates proves that playing cards were not popular in
any part of Europe before the last quarter of the fifteenth century.
The Italian record which attributes their derivation to the land of
the Saracens is fully corroborated by other testimony of authority.
Students of oriental literature assure us that the Saracens were taught
the uses of playing cards by the inhabitants of Hindostan, in which
country they were invented.[35] Playing cards were made in China from
printed blocks long before the game was known in Europe. [p099] The
introduction of this oriental pastime in civilized Europe has been
attributed to the Moors of Spain, to eastern Jews who traded on the
shores of the Mediterranean, to Gypsies who made their appearance in
Germany at the beginning [p100] of the fifteenth century. Whether
they were introduced by Moor, Christian, Jew or Gypsy is of minor
importance. It concerns us more to know how they were received. We have
abundant evidence that the cards supplied a universal want, and that
they soon became as popular with the poor and ignorant as they had been
with the rich and noble. While the Duke of Milan found amusement, as
he did in 1415, with a suite of cards elaborately painted by artists
of renown on plates of ivory, at a cost of fifteen hundred crowns,
and while Flemish nobles were playing at games of hazard with cards
engraved on silver plates, the working people of France and Spain,
soldiers in Italy, and traveling mechanics in Germany were diverting
themselves in wine-shops and public gardens, in huts and by the
road-side, with similar games, played with greasy cards which had been
printed or stenciled on coarse paper. The cards were adapted to all
tastes, and there was a fascination in them which made men neglectful
of duty.
The evil results of this infatuation were soon perceived. Playing cards
were denounced not only by kings and the provosts of cities, but by
the more zealous and conscientious priests of the church. At the synod
of Langres held in 1404, the fathers of the church forbid all games
of playing cards to the clergy. On the fifth day of May, in the year
1423, St. Bernard of Sienna preached against playing cards from the
steps of the Church of St. Peter, with such effect, that his hearers
ran to their houses, and brought therefrom all the games of hazard
that they owned—cards, dice and checkers—and burnt them in the public
square. One card-maker, who felt that his business had been ruined by
the sermon, went in tears to the saint, and said, “Father, I am a card
maker, and know no other trade. You have forbidden me to make cards and
have consequently condemned me to die from starvation.” Whereupon the
ready priest said, “If you know how to paint, paint this image”—showing
him the figure of Christ, with the monogram I. H. S. in the centre
of a halo of glory. The card-maker, we are told, followed the [p101]
judicious advice. The proper sequel is not wanting: virtue had proper
reward; the converted image-maker soon became rich. In 1452, the monk
John Capistan preached for three hours in Nuremberg with a similar
result. The conscience-stricken people brought into the market-place
“76 jousting sledges, 3,640 backgammon boards, 40,000 dice, and cards
innumerable,” and burnt them in the market-place.
The attacks of the clergy had no permanent effect. At the end of the
fifteenth century, playing cards were more popular than ever. Other
games were invented, and new forms of cards of quainter or of more
graceful patterns were produced. Sometimes they were engraved on copper
plates, and were painted with all the delicacy of fine miniatures.
Despairing of success in their attempts to entirely abolish the
practice, moralists undertook to divert cards from their first purpose,
and to make them a means of instruction as well as of amusement. Of
this character is an old pack of fifty cards engraved on copper plates,
and supposed to be the work of Finiguerra, which has been preserved
in an Italian library. One of the cards bears the printed date, 1485.
The pack is divided in five suites: the first suite contains cards
that represent, by figures and words in the Venetian dialect, the
various conditions of men from the pope to the beggar; the second suite
contains the names and figures of the nine muses, with Apollo added to
make the complement; the third illustrates branches of polite learning
from grammar to theology; the fourth exhibits cardinal virtues,
like justice and prudence; the fifth, displays the heavenly bodies,
the Moon, Saturn, the stars, Chaos and the First Cause. This game,
obviously made up for the benefit of young collegians, was, probably,
no more popular with them than the scientific story books of 1820–30
were with the boys of that period. The combination of abstruse sciences
with a frivolous amusement may rightfully be considered a problem of
despair.
The illustration on the next leaf is the reduced fac-simile of a suite
of twenty-two playing cards, intended, apparently, [p102] to convey
solemn religious truths in the form of a game of life and death. We do
not know how the game was played: we have to accept the figures upon
the cards as their own explanation and commentary. In the figures of
Jupiter and of the Devil, we see the powers which shape the destinies
of men. The Wheel of Fortune is emblematic of the fate which assigns to
one man the condition of a Hermit, and to another that of an Emperor.
The virtues of Temperance, Justice and Strength which man opposes to
Fate, the frivolity of the Fool, the happiness of the Lover (if he can
be happy who is cajoled by two women), and the pride of the Empress,
are all dominated by the central card bearing an image of the skeleton
Death—Death which precedes the Last Judgment and opens to the righteous
the House of God. In these cards we have a pictorial representation
of scenes from one of the curious spectacle plays of the middle ages,
which were often enacted in the open air to the accompaniments of dance
and music. The union of fearful mysteries with ridiculous accessories,
and the ghastly suggestion of the fate of all men, as shown in the
card of Death the reaper—these were the features which gave point and
character to the series of strange cartoons popular for many centuries
in all parts of civilized Europe under the title of the _Dance of
Death_.
This was but one of the many innovations proposed as substitutes for
the older oriental games. In the latter part of the fifteenth century,
playing cards were made in Italy with figures which represented the
four great monarchies of the ancient world, with which a childish game
was played in imitation of war and conquest. Suitable marks on the
cards designated the four different classes of society; hearts were
the symbol of the clergy; spades (from the Italian _spada_, a sword)
were for the nobility; clubs stood for the peasantry; and diamonds
represented the citizens or burghers.
[Illustration:
1 The Juggler. 12 The Hanged.
2 Juno. 13 Death.
3 The Empress. 14 Temperance.
4 The Emperor. 15 The Devil.
5 Jupiter. 16 The House of God.
6 The Lovers. 17 The Stars.
7 The Chariot. 18 The Moon.
8 Justice. 19 The Sun.
9 The Hermit 20 The Last Judgment.
10 The Wheel of Fortune. 21 The World.
11 Strength. 22 The Fool.
Reduced Fac-Simile of French Copper-plate Playing Cards of the
Sixteenth Century.
[From Breitkopf.]]
Thomas Murner, a professor of philosophy at Cracow in 1507, undertook
to make use of playing cards for teaching high scholastic science.
He published a book which he called [p104] _Logical Playing Cards,
or Logic Realized and Made Comprehensible through Pleasant Exercises
with Pictures_. The cards were filled with mysterious symbols intended
as keys to the entire art of reasoning. The difficult science was
adapted to the meanest capacity, by puerile methods which subsequently
provoked the contempt of Erasmus. Each card had some pedantic name like
Proposition, Predicate or Syllogism. Could there be a more unattractive
game?
Eminent German artists—among them Martin Schongauer and the Master
of 1466—undertook to supplant the stiff and barbarous figures that
had been used on playing cards, with designs of merit. They drew and
engraved new face figures of most extraordinary character, in which
satirical and poetic fancies were strangely blended. The amorousness of
the monks and the coquetry of the ladies, the quarrels of termagants
among the peasantry, the revenge of hares who are roasting their enemy
man and his friend the dog, are the subjects of some cards. On other
German cards of this period are represented, in startling contrast, the
sweet and saintly faces of pure women, heroic men riding in triumph,
and filthy sows with their litters.
Jost Amman[36] designed, and perhaps engraved, a full pack of cards
which was published in book form with explanatory verses in Latin and
German. Rejecting the established forms of hearts, clubs, spades and
diamonds for the designation of the suites, he substituted books,
printers’ inking balls, wine pots and drinking cups. The moral that he
endeavored to inculcate was the advantages of industry and learning
over idleness and drunkenness. But the intended moral is not as clear
as it should be. Some of the figures are exceedingly gross, although
they are drawn with admirable skill and spirit.
[Illustration: French Card of the Fifteenth Century.
[From Lacroix.]]
[Illustration: German Card of the Sixteenth Century.
[From Lacroix.]]
[Illustration: German Card of the Sixteenth Century.
[From Lacroix.]]
[Illustration: German Card of the Fifteenth Century. [From Breitkopf.]]
These innovations had but a transient popularity. The people played
cards, not for instruction in art, science or [p106] morality, but
for amusement, and they would not suffer the games to be diverted
from their first purpose of the pleasure of hazard. The old games and
the old figures were deeply rooted in their memories and habits. They
would have no changes, and there have been none of any importance.
The hard conventional figures of king, queen and jack which are to be
found on the oldest playing cards have been repeated almost without
alteration in the popular cards of every succeeding century. We can
readily understand the reasons why the scholastic and scientific games
were rejected, but it would be difficult to account for the preference
always manifested for coarse outlines and clumsy drawing in the figures.
Although playing cards led to gambling, and to forms of dissipation
which required restraint,[37] their general use was not an unmixed
evil. To the common people, they were a means of education; a
circuitous and a dangerous means, no doubt, but not the less effectual.
The medieval churl whose ignorance was so dense that he failed to
see the advantages of education, and who would have refused to learn
his letters by any persuasion, did perceive that there was amusement
in playing cards, and did take the trouble to learn the games. With
him, as with little children, the course of instruction began with
bright-colored little pictures and the explanation of hidden meanings
in absurd-looking little spots or symbols. In the playing of the
game, his dull mind was trained to a new and a freer exercise of his
reasoning faculties, and he must have been inspired with more of
respect for the dimly seen utility of painted or printed symbols. To
the multitude of early card players, cards were of no other and no
greater benefit as a means of mental discipline. To men of thought and
purpose, they taught a more impressive lesson of the value of paper and
letters. They induced inquiries that led [p107] to important resolves.
If a few arbitrarily arranged signs on bits of paper could greatly
amuse a party of friends during a long evening, would not the letters
of the alphabet as they were combined in books, furnish a still greater
and an unfailing source of amusement?
The meagre notices of card-makers and card-painters in old town-books
of Germany and in the decree of Venice do not tell us whether cards
were made before or after image prints. Those who have written most
learnedly on this subject,[38] tell us that the cards were made before
the images; that at first they were drawn and painted by hand; that
they were afterward colored by stencils; that when this method was
found too slow, blocks were engraved and printed; and that the image
prints were subsequently introduced for the purpose of counteracting
the evil influences of cards. These propositions are ingenious, but
it must be confessed that we have no certain knowledge that the
improvement was made in this order. This theory of gradual development
is based on conjecture, and its best support is derived from a
consideration of the fact that cards were in common use before we have
any indications of the existence of image prints. That the cards should
have been made by engraving before the images seems reasonable when we
consider that the workmanship of the cards was of a much ruder nature.
The experimenting amateur who knew that he was unable to cut a block
like that of the _St. Christopher_, would readily undertake to engrave
the spots and face figures of the earlier cards.
Breitkopf, an expert type-founder and a writer of authority, stands
almost alone in his opinion that playing cards were [p108] made after
the image prints. He says that the engravers who made cards also made
images, and he adds the curious fact that in some places cards and
images were called by the same name.[39]
The curt and careless manner in which the business of card-making is
mentioned in the old records is an indication that the process used
was not novel. We do not find in the writings of any author of the
fifteenth or sixteenth centuries a statement that the earliest playing
cards were made by a new art. That they were made by block-printing
at the beginning of the fifteenth century in Italy and Germany seems
clearly established. That they were made at a corresponding period in
Spain and France, where cards were as common, cannot be proved. It is
probable that the Germans derived their knowledge of cards from Italy,
but the evidences of an early manufacture by printing are decidedly
in favor of southern Germany, a district in which the most famous
image prints have been found, and which, at a later period, was the
birthplace of many eminent engravers on wood.
[p109]
VI
The Chinese Method of Printing.
Antiquity of Printing among the Chinese . . . Statement of Du Halde
. . . Its Perversion . . . First Chinese Method, the Gouging of
Letters . . . Didot’s Hypothesis . . . Second Method, of Xylography
. . . Third Method, a Combination of Xylography and Typography
. . . A Peculiarly Chinese Invention . . . Method now used . . .
Its Advantages over Types . . . Chinese Paper . . . Performance of
Pressmen . . . Curious Method of Binding . . . Expense of Engraving no
hindrance to Chinese Printing . . . The Xylographic Method necessary
. . . Chinese Practice in Typography . . . Cheapness of Chinese Books
. . . Similarity between the Chinese and the European Methods of
Block-Printing . . . The Hypothesis of its Transmission to Europe
through Marco Polo, or other Venetian Travelers.
* * * * *
In both arts, writing and printing alike, the Chinese have
remained stiff, stolid, and immovable at the first step, With the
characteristic unchangeability of the yellow races of Eastern Asia.
_D. F. Bacon._
* * * * *
Many eminent authors are of the opinion that we are indebted to China
not only for playing cards, but for the means of making them. They tell
us that playing cards could not have been popular, as they were at the
beginning of the fifteenth century, if they had not been made by a
cheaper process than drawing by hand. The inference attempted is that
block-printing and playing cards were brought to Europe together. The
reasons presented in support of this opinion are far from conclusive,
but they are based on many curious facts which deserve consideration.
The Chinese claims for priority in the practice of block printing
have been disallowed by some critics, chiefly because they have been
presented in the form of perverted translations. That oriental people
practised printing before this art was applied to any useful purpose
in Europe is admitted by all who have studied their history. Du Halde,
a learned Jesuit father, who traveled in China during the earlier part
of the [p110] eighteenth century, was the first author who furnished
Europeans with a description of Chinese printing. He quotes the
following extract from a Chinese book, supposed to have been written
in the reign of the emperor Wu-Wong, who was living 1120 B. C. “As
the stone _me_ (Chinese for blacking), which is used to blacken the
engraved characters, can never become white, so a heart blackened by
vices will always retain its blackness.”[40] This is an allusion to
some primitive method of blackening incised characters, for the purpose
of making them more legible. It is a method which is still observed in
the inscriptions on memorial stones in churches and graveyards. But it
is an allusion to engraving and blackening only. There is no mention
of printing ink, and no suggestion of printing. Du Halde quoted it
only to show the antiquity of engraving, yet it has been used by many
authors as a warrant for the assertion that printing was practised in
China eleven hundred years before the Christian era. If we could accept
this statement, we should have to believe that printing was invented
in China but a few years after the siege of Troy, before Rome was
founded, before Homer wrote and Solomon reigned. Du Halde’s words do
not warrant this statement. He says, with due caution, “In printing, it
seemeth that China ought to have the precedence of other nations, for,
according to their books, the Chinese have made use of this art for
sixteen hundred years,” or since the first century.
The practice of blackening characters was not printing, but it may have
led to its development. Du Halde says that the Chinese printed not only
on wood blocks, but on tables of “stone of a proper and particular
kind.” The writing or design to be printed, while it was still wet
with ink, was transferred by pressure from the paper upon which it
was written to the smooth surface of a slab of stone. When the [p111]
black lines of the writing or design were firmly set on the stone,
the paper was peeled off. The black transferred lines were then cut
out, or cut below the surface, as they are now done in the copper-plate
process. The surface was inked, paper was laid on the stone, and an
impression was taken. The result was, the appearance on the paper of
the writing or design in white on a field of solid black. This method
of cutting out the lines, so that they should appear white in the
printed impression, is the simplest form of engraving. It is like that
of the boy who cuts his name in the bark of a tree. He finds it easier
to gouge out the letters than it is to raise them in high relief.
Reasoning from probability, we should say that it should have been the
earliest of the methods. Didot believes that it was known to the old
Romans.[41] Du Halde says that this method of printing on stone was
used chiefly for “epitaphs, pictures, trees, mountains and such like
things.” He does not fix the date of its invention, but it was probably
the earlier method. Didot says that he had in his [p112] library the
portraits of four Chinese emperors of a dynasty which began A. D. 618,
and ended during the ninth century, and also some fac-similes of the
imperial writings, which were made by the same process.[42]
Sir John Francis Davis, for many years British Minister to China, and
author of two valuable books on that country, places the invention of
block-printing in China in the tenth century of the Christian era.
He attributes the discovery of the art to Foong-Taou, the Chinese
minister of state, who had been greatly hindered in the discharge of
his duties by his inability to procure exact copies of his writings.
After many trials and failures, he dampened a written sheet of paper,
and pressed it on a smooth surface of wood until he had produced a fair
transfer. He then cut away every part of the surface that did not show
the transferred lines, and thus produced a block in relief. The lines
in relief were next brushed with ink; a sheet of paper was laid on the
block, and impression was applied. The result was, a true fac-simile of
his writing, and the birth of block-printing.
There was another Chinese method, which, paradoxical as it may seem,
was a combination of xylography and typography. It was invented A.
D. 1041, by an ingenious Chinese blacksmith, named Pi-Ching, whose
process is thus described by Davis. The inventor first made a thick
paste of porcelain clay, and moulded or cut it in little oblong cubes
of proper size. On these cubes he carved the Chinese characters that
were most frequently used, thereby making movable types. The next
process was to bake them in an oven until they were hardened. But the
types so made were irregular as to height and as to body. In printers’
phrase, they would not stand together: some would be larger than the
standard, others would be too high to paper, and all would be crooked.
This difficulty could be remedied only by fixing the types firmly on
a surface or bed-plate of unequal elevation. This surface was formed
by pouring a melted mixture of wax, lime and [p113] resin on a plate
of iron. Pi-Ching then took a stout frame of the size of the page he
proposed to print, filled with iron wires in narrow parallels, and
placed it on the prepared bed-plate. The types of clay were next forced
between the iron wires on the mixture, and pressed close together. Then
the plate was put on a furnace and heated until the composition became
soft. A planer was put upon the face of the types, to force them down
in the composition until they were firmly secured at a uniform height.
So treated, the composed types were made as solid as a xylographic
block or a stereotype plate. The form was then ready for printing. The
method of printing was like that subsequently used for printing blocks
engraved on wood, a method that will be described hereafter. When the
form had been printed, heat was again applied; the types were withdrawn
from the composition, cleaned of ink and adhering composition by the
aid of a brush, and put back into a case for future use. Signs and
unusual characters not in constant use were wrapped up in paper.
There is nothing incredible in this curious story: on the contrary,
it bears internal evidences of its probability. The selection, for
printing purposes, of so unpromising a material as clay, the patient
labor given to each character before it reached the condition of a
type, the sagacity that foresaw and evaded the difficulty of irregular
bodies and heights by the use of iron parallels, and a yielding
bed-plate—all these are characteristic of the eccentricities of
Chinese invention. The process was ingenious, but it was not entirely
practical. It depended for its success more on the zeal and ability of
Pi-Ching than it did on its own merits. When Pi-Ching died, his process
died with him. His friends preserved his types as mementos of his
ability, but none of them were able to use his method with success.
The present Chinese method is, practically, the method originally used
by Foong-Taou. For the purpose of block-printing, Chinese printers
select the wood of the pear-tree, which has close fibres that yield
readily and sharply to the [p114] touch of the graver. Contrary to
western usage, the blocks are cut from wood sawed in boards, or sawed
parallel with the fibres. The thickness of the boards or blocks is
about a half-inch, but, in the Chinese method, it is not important that
the blocks be made of uniform thickness.[43] Each block is cut large
enough to contain two pages, and is carefully planed and truly squared.
The surface is then sized with a thick solution of boiled rice, which
saturates the pores of the wood. When the sizing is hard, the block is
ready for the engraver.
The writing or design to be engraved is neatly drawn or written on
thin, strong, transparent paper, and is transferred, face downward,
to the surface of the block. The rubbing of the back of the paper
permanently transfers the writing in its inverted position to the
block. The engraver then cuts away the field, leaving the transferred
lines in high relief. If the graver slips and spoils a letter, the
defective part is cut out; the vacant space is plugged with new wood,
on which plug the letter is redrawn and cut. Labor is cheap, and skill
is abundant: the cutting of a block of Chinese characters which conveys
as many ideas as a page of large Roman book types costs no more, often
less, than the composition of the types. The block has advantages over
metal types or stereotypes. It is, practically, a stereotype: correct
to copy, it needs no proof-reading; light, portable, and not so liable
to damage as the stereotype, it can be used for printing copies as they
are needed from time to time.
For printing the block, a press is not needed. The block is adjusted
upon a level table, before which the printer stands, with a bowl
of fluid ink on one side, and a pile of paper, cut to proper size,
on the other. In his right hand the printer holds two flat-faced
brushes, fixed on the opposite ends of the same handle. One brush is
occasionally dipped into the ink, [p115] and afterward swept over the
face of the block. This done, the printer places a sheet on the block;
he then reverses the position of the wet brush, and sweeps the paper
lightly, but firmly, with the dry brush at the other end of the handle.
This light impression of the brush is all that is needed to fasten the
ink on the paper. The success of this operation depends largely on
the quality of the paper, which is soft, thin, pliable, and a quick
absorbent of fluid ink.[44] If American book papers were substituted
for Chinese paper, the process of printing by the brush and with fluid
ink would be found impracticable: the sheet would not adhere to the
block; the ink would smear on the paper; the brush would not give
enough pressure to transfer the ink.
Chinese presswork is done with rapidity. Du Halde said that a printer
could perfect, without exertion, ten thousand sheets within one day.
As this performance, about thirteen impressions in a minute, for a
working day of twelve hours, is really greater than that of ordinary
book-printing machines in modern printing offices, this part of the
description of Du Halde may be rejected as entirely untrustworthy. We
must believe that the good father did not count the work, and that his
credulity was imposed upon by some Chinese braggart. Davis, with more
reason, says that the usual performance of the Chinese printer is two
thousand sheets per day, which is about one-fourth more than the daily
task of an American hand-pressman. The simple nature of the work favors
speed. The sheets are printed on one side only, and the printer is not
delayed by the setting-off, or smearing of the ink, on the back of the
white paper.
Although the Chinese book is printed on paper of the size of two
leaves, in pairs of two pages, it is not stitched through the back or
centre of the double leaf. The paper is folded between the pages, and
the fold is made the outer edge of the book; the cut edges are the back
of the book, [p116] through which the stitching is done. Clumsy as
this method of binding may seem to our standards of propriety, it is
done in China with a neatness and thoroughness which are almost beyond
criticism.[45]
The labor of engraving separate blocks for every work, which would be
regarded as an insuperable difficulty in the Western World, is esteemed
but lightly by the patient and plodding Chinese, and is no hindrance
to a very broad development of printing. A daily newspaper, known to
European residents as the _Peking Gazette_, has been printed in Peking
for centuries. This paper, which is made up chiefly of the orders of
the emperor and the proceedings and papers of his general council,
is printed from a composition of hard wax, which can be more quickly
engraved or indented than wood. The presswork, as might be expected,
is inferior to that done from engraved wooden blocks. The cost, in
China, of engraving a full page, about twice the size of the fac-simile
opposite, would be about forty-five cents; a careful imitation of the
same page by a competent engraver on wood in New-York would cost about
thirty-five dollars.
Adherence to old usages, in neglect of improved methods, is a true
oriental trait, but the preference of the Chinese for block-printing
is not altogether unreasonable. Their written language is an
almost insurmountable obstacle to the employment of types. Chinese
characters do not stand for letters or sounds; they represent complete
words or ideas. As their vocabulary contains a great many of these
words, estimated by some at 80,000, and by others at 240,000, it is
impracticable, by reason of its expense, to cut punches for all these
characters. European type-founders, at various times, have made up an
assortment of Chinese characters for printing the New Testament, and
for other books requiring a limited [p117] number of words, but a
complete collection has never been attempted beyond the Chinese Empire.
[Illustration: Fac-Simile of part of a Page from a Chinese Book.]
[Illustration: Chinese Types Made in London.
[Furnished by Mr. John F. Marthens of Pittsburgh.]]
The type-foundry attached to the National Printing Office at Paris,
which founded types for 43,000 distinct characters, has, probably,
reached the highest practicable number; but this performance was
accomplished only by repeated alterations of punches and matrices. The
punches were cut on wood, and pressed in prepared plaster. The matrices
so made were broken when a sufficient quantity of types had been cast
from them. By shortening or cutting off a line or lines, the old
punches were altered to form new characters. The matrices, also, after
they had received the prints of these punches, were sometimes altered
by the [p118] separate prints of dots, lines, or angles, which gave
them a different meaning. The imperfection of the process is obvious,
for it required the destruction of many matrices and punches.
The difficulties in the way of using types, if they could be made
with advantage, are too great to be overlooked: they could not be
classified nor handled with economy. The American compositor picks
types from cases with boxes for 152 characters, and covering an area of
1088 square inches; but experts in type-setting say that the American
case is too large, and that the speed of the compositor would be much
increased by reducing the area of the case. The performance of the
compositor decreases with an increase in the size of case and in the
number of characters. To provide for 80,000 Chinese characters, cases
covering an area of 550,000 square inches would be required. In other
words, the Chinese compositor would need the room occupied by five
hundred cases; he would unavoidably waste the largest portion of his
time walking through alleys in search of types, and vainly trying to
recollect the places where he had distributed them.
The Chinese are not entirely insensible to the advantages of European
typography. There is a story current in books on printing, that Jesuit
missionaries, during the latter part of the seventeenth century, cast
250,000 Chinese characters in the form of movable types.[46] Here is an
obvious error: if we consider the work done afterward with these types,
the quantity stated is altogether too small for the types and too large
for the punches. It is further said that the Jesuit missionaries, with
the permission of the reigning emperor, [p119] printed a collection
of ancient and standard works in six thousand octavo volumes. Of this
edition, there are now in Paris, the _History of Music_ in sixty
volumes, the _History of the Chinese Language_ in eighty volumes,
and the _History of Foreign Peoples_ in seventy-five volumes.[47]
A printing office, in which movable types of cast metal are used,
has been in operation in Peking since the year 1776. The types of
this office are of home manufacture, made from punches of hard wood
and matrices of baked porcelain. There may be other instances of an
occasional use of types for special purposes, but they are exceptions
to the general practice.
Ever since their invention of the art, the largest part of Chinese
printed work has been done, as it is now done, by xylography. So long
as they continue to use these peculiar characters, this simple method
of printing must be preferred for its great cheapness and simplicity.
We may smile at the clumsiness of the method, but we should not
overlook the fact that it is efficient. “Every one,” Du Halde says,
“hath the liberty to print what he pleaseth, without the supervising,
censure or licence of any one, and with so small charge, that for
every hundred letters perfectly engraved in the manner above said,
they pay four pence half-penny, yet every letter consists of many
strokes.” In no country are books so cheap and so abundant as they
are in China. The American book or pamphlet in paper cover, sometimes
sold for seventy-five cents, more frequently for one dollar, seems of
exorbitantly high price when contrasted with a Chinese book of similar
size, which can be had in China for the equivalent of eight or ten
cents. If the Chinese have not derived great benefits from printing, it
is obvious that their failure has not been produced by the high price
of printed work.
There are many points of similarity between the Chinese method of
printing and the early European practice of the art. The preliminary
writing or drawing in ink of a design on paper; the transfer of lines
from the paper upon the wood, [p120] and the cutting away of the
field; the use of a fluid writing ink; the fashion of printing upon one
side only of the sheet: these were features in use by both peoples. If
we had a more thorough knowledge of the processes of the early European
engravers on wood, other points of similarity might be found. These
resemblances seem still more significant when they are considered with
the fact that playing cards, supposed to be of oriental origin, were
among the earliest productions of European engravers on wood. They
have been regarded as a sufficient warrant for the hypothesis that
our knowledge of engraving on wood must have been taken from China.
It is the belief of many that block-printing was introduced in Europe
by Venetian travelers of the thirteenth century, who had acquired a
full knowledge of all the details of printing through long residence
in China. This is a specious proposition, but it will not bear close
examination.
Venice took the lead of all European cities in the establishment
of commercial intercourse with China. Venetian merchants, in 1189,
occupied an allotted street in Constantinople, from which port they
sent vessels through the Black Sea, with bales of merchandise, which
accompanying agents introduced into Thibet, Tartary and China. To
promote this traffic, Venice sent to the courts of the Eastern
potentates some of her most reputable citizens as diplomatic and
commercial agents. Marco Polo, the most distinguished of these
embassadors, resided more than twenty years in the great empire of
Cathay, or China, in high favor with the emperor, and provided with
every facility for acquiring a knowledge of the arts and industry of
the country. Soon after his return to Venice, in 1295, he dictated
a narrative of his travels, but his statements were received with
general disbelief, and they have usually been considered as extravagant
and improbable. Of late years, the travels of Marco Polo have been
defended as substantially truthful, but his most zealous defenders
have to confess that he was remarkably credulous. It is a noteworthy
circumstance that he does not describe printing or [p121] printed
books, although he does mention the paper money of China, formally
stamped in red ink with the imperial seal. This paper money must have
been printed, but he does not say anything about the printing.[48]
The commercial relations between Venice and China were continued many
years, and it is possible that other travelers may have acquired some
knowledge of the peculiarities of Chinese printing, and may have
communicated this knowledge; but it was a communication of details
only, and not of the principle of printing. Printing could not have
been a novelty, for we have many evidences that it was practised in
Italy before Marco Polo was born. The mechanics of Europe had nothing
to learn of the theory, and but little of the practice, of the art of
xylography. All they needed was something to print, and something to
print on. They were waiting for paper and for playing cards.
[p122]
VII
The Early Printing of Italy.
Printing with Ink in Italy during the Twelfth Century . . . Printed
Initials in Manuscripts . . . Printed Signatures and Monograms,
with Illustrations . . . Medieval Trade-Marks, with Illustrations
. . . Engraved Initials probably made by Copyists who could not draw
. . . Texts of Books printed from Engraved Letters . . . The Codex
Argenteus of Sweden . . . Weigel’s Fac-Similes of Printing on Silk and
Linen Cloth . . . Probable Method of Printing . . . Printed Fabrics
made in Spain, Sicily and Italy . . . Art not derived from China
. . . Antiquity of Stained Cloths . . . No Connecting Link between
Hand-Stamping and Card-Printing . . . No Early Italian Image Prints
. . . Story about the Two Cunios . . . Its Improbability . . . No
Early Notices of Engraving on Wood . . . Not considered a New Art,
nor a Great Art . . . Its Productions of Paltry Nature . . . Early
Engravers had nothing to print on.
* * * * *
Nor is it any proof or strong argument against the antiquity of
printing, that authentic specimens of wood engraving of those early
times are not to be found. Their merits as works of art were not such
as to render their preservation at all probable.
_Ottley._
* * * * *
At the beginning of the seventeenth century, a student of old Italian
books called the attention of bibliographers to the strange uniformity
of the initial letters in many old manuscripts,[49] some of which
had been made as early as the ninth century. Each ornamental letter,
wherever found or however often repeated in the same book, was of
the same form. He reached the conclusion that this uniformity had
been produced by engraved stamps. The announcement of this discovery
induced other persons to make similar examinations, the result of which
confirmed the original statement. [p123] It was proved that there was
a uniformity in the shapes of the letters which could not have been
made by drawing.
[Illustration:
The Mark of The Mark of
Jacobus Arnoldus, 1345. Johannes Meynersen, 1435.
[From Jackson.] [From Jackson.]]
The statement that a rude method of printing had been practised
three centuries before its supposed invention, was received by the
bibliographers with incredulity. Authors who had advocated theories
of a Chinese, a German or a Netherlandish discovery of printing would
not admit that printing with ink could have been done at an earlier
period. They said that the initials were made by stenciling, or by
tracings taken from a model letter. But they had a peculiarity which
could not have been produced by stenciling, for they showed the marks
of hard indentation in the parchment. Papillon, a practical engraver on
wood, accepted the indented letters as the impressions of wood-cuts;
Lanzi, the historian of Italian fine arts, said that the initials were
certainly printed.
Signatures which show all the mechanical peculiarities of impressions
from engravings on wood have also been found on Italian documents
of the twelfth century. Printed [p124] signatures or monograms of
notaries, which seem to have been made to serve the double purpose of
signature and seal, in imitation of the kingly practice of affixing the
signet, were frequently used in Italy, Spain and Germany from the ninth
to the fourteenth century. It was customary, also, for the manufacturer
or merchant[50] to stamp or brand merchandise with a sign or mark
through which its origin could be traced. It does not appear that
merchants made use of these trade-marks instead of signatures on paper
or parchment, but many of them could neither read nor write. Yet there
was an active trade between Italy and the Levant, between England and
Germany, between Spain and the Netherlands, which could not have been
carried on without accounts, correspondence, and the employment of duly
authenticated signatures. It may be supposed that the use of stamped or
printed signatures would not be confined to the notaries and copyists,
and that this printing would be practised by merchants, as much for
reasons of necessity as of convenience. The merchant who knew the
advantages derived from branding boxes or cattle, and the respect paid
to the stamp of a notary, would also see the utility of an engraved and
stamped signature on a letter of credit or a bill of lading.
The initials printed in manuscripts were probably made for scribes who
could write, but could not draw the floriated initials then placed
in all books of value. They may have been cut by calligraphers, who
tried to expedite their work, or may have been made to the order of
copyists who desired to free themselves from their dependence on the
calligrapher. In either case there would have been sufficient reason
for the engraving. These initials are, for the most part, of unusually
intricate design, but they were engraved in outline only, so [p125]
that they could be filled in with bright color, by hand-painting or by
stenciling. They were printed with a fluid writing ink, which may have
been black, but is now of a dingy brown.
A recent Italian author, D. Vincenzo Requeno, who has published an
essay on this subject, tells us that the employment of engraved letters
by the Italian book-makers of the middle ages was not confined to
floriated initials. He says that they were sometimes used for the texts
of books, and that many so-called manuscripts were printed by stamping
cut letters one after another upon the page. This method of printing
a book, letter by letter, could have been made a quicker process than
that of careful writing. Not more than sixty-six engraved characters
would have been required for the copying of any ordinary manuscript.
A skillful workman, who had the characters before him, fitted up as
hand-stamps, lettered so that he could select them at a glance, resting
on a surface which kept them coated with ink, could take them up one
after another, and produce on paper the impressions of letters faster
than they could be produced by the penman who was obliged to carefully
draw each letter and to paint or fill in its outlines with ink.[51]
[Illustration:
Mark of Adam de Mark of Edmund Pepyr, Mark of an unknown
Walsokne, who died who died 1483. person from a tomb in
1349. [From Jackson.] Lynn.]
In a library at Upsal, Sweden, is a volume known as the _Codex
Argenteus_, or the Silvered Book, which seems to have been made
exclusively by this method of stamping one letter [p126] after
another. The book is so called because the letters are in silver,
and present a brilliant appearance, like the glittering letters of
bookbinders, on their leaves of purple vellum. The _Codex Argenteus_
presents many indications of hand-printing: the letters are depressed
on one side of the leaf, and raised on the other, as if made by
indentation. Under the letters that have been too rudely pressed with
the stamp, the vellum is thin; in some parts the leaf has been broken
by pressure and patched with bits of vellum. Occasionally, letters are
found turned upside down—an error possible to a hand-printer, but not
to a penman. John Ihre, who described the book, in a pamphlet published
at Upsal in 1755, says the silver leaf of the letters was affixed to
the vellum by means of sizing, and that the letters were produced by
stamping on the leaf with engraved punches of hard metal, which had
been heated and used as bookbinders now use gilding tools. The use
of heat has not been proved, but the blemishes of the work are most
satisfactorily explained by the hypothesis that the book was printed
letter by letter.[52]
This explanation of the method by which the book was made has not
been generally accepted. It was said that silver letters are found in
medieval books made entirely by writing. But this is negative evidence,
for these books do not present the mechanical imperfections of the
_Codex Argenteus_. There has, evidently, been a vague apprehension
that the admission of an early use of single types for printing would
invalidate all subsequent claims to the invention of typography. One
can hardly imagine a grosser error, for the hand-printing of single
types is not typography. It is even farther removed from it than the
printing of letters on engraved blocks. [p127]
The doubts that once existed as to the genuineness of the printed
initials in manuscript books have been dissipated by recent
investigation in another direction. It has been conclusively proved
that woven fabrics of silk and of linen, ornamented with designs
printed in bright colors, not unlike those of modern chintzes and
calicoes, were produced between the twelfth and fifteenth centuries.
The designs or patterns were printed in ink from engraved blocks
of wood, by the tedious process of hand-stamping. Of this curious
primitive printed work, there are, in several European collections,
fragments of images, priests’ robes, altar cloths, and ecclesiastic
apparel of like nature. The genuineness of these relics of early
printing, and the process by which the printing was done, have been
established in the most satisfactory manner. Weigel, in his valuable
work on the _Infancy of Printing_, has illustrated this part of his
subject with fac-similes of these fragments which prove that Italian
workmen not only knew how to print, but that they printed in colors
with great precision.
The modern printer who fairly appreciates the difficulties of printing
colors in register, and the force required to secure a good impression
from a large, flat surface, may be puzzled by the neatness of this
early printing. His experience tells him that these designs should have
been printed upon strong and accurately adjusted presses, and from
large surfaces, in sections or forms of two or more square feet. But
the method of the Italian printers was quite different; the designs
were engraved on many pieces of wood of small size, made to fit each
other with accuracy, and each piece was separately inked and struck by
hand, or by a mallet, on the fabric. A careful workman could readily
connect the different impressions of different blocks, keeping the
colors in true register, and could pursue the pattern in a neat manner
over any surface, however large. The work was tedious, but not more
so than that of finishing, or gilding by hand tools, in ornamental
bookbinding, which is now done by a similar method. Slow as it may seem
when compared with the rapidity of modern [p128] calico-printing, it
was an improvement on all methods then known, and much quicker and more
exact than any form of stenciling or hand-painting.
The fragment adjudged by Weigel the oldest of the ten specimens
illustrated in the book, is a bit of red silk, woven and printed during
the last ten years of the twelfth century. He says that we must search
for its origin where silk fabrics were most extensively manufactured;
that it must have been made by Moorish artisans of Almeria, Grenada
and Seville in Southern Spain, or by Saracens in Sicily in the rich
manufacturing cities of Palermo[53] and Messina. Printed fabrics of
silk, cotton, linen, and woolen stuffs were subsequently made in Lucca,
in Genoa, and the free cities of Northern Italy.
The art of staining cloth with colors is older than history. Homer
writes about the magnificent colored cloths of Sidon; Herodotus
mentions the garments of the people of Caucasus, which he says were
covered with figures of animals; Pliny describes the decorated linens
of the old Egyptians.[54] The Spanish invaders of Mexico brought back
statements that all the people of the New World were clothed in cotton
cloths [p129] of brilliant colors, which Stephens says were certainly
printed. Cook, the discoverer of islands in the Pacific, says that the
Polynesians beautified their garments by a method of stamping. It is
not even necessary to attribute the early Italian practice of printing
upon woven fabrics to the Saracens of Sicily; the Italian practice may
have been the revival of a disused but unforgotten Roman art—a revival
made possible through the growth of commerce and manufactures.
There is no connecting link between the Italian hand-stamps of the
thirteenth and the Venetian playing cards of the fifteenth century.
There are no Italian prints of images, and no Italian block-books,
which can be attributed to this period. Papillon, the author of a
treatise on engraving, is the only person who has attempted to supply
this deficiency in the record. He gives a description of eight large
prints, which he thinks were made at Ravenna, in the year 1286, by a
twin brother and sister, known as the two Cunios:
When I was a young man, and employed by my father almost every
week-day in different places, to paste or arrange our papers for the
hanging of rooms, it happened that, in 1719 or 1720, I was sent to
the village of Bagneux, near Mount Rouge, to a Mr. De Greder, a Swiss
captain, who there possessed a very pretty house. After I had papered
a closet for him, he employed me to paste certain papers in imitation
of mosaic upon the shelves of his library. One day after dinner, he
found me reading in one of his books, and was, in consequence, induced
to show me two or three very ancient volumes which had been lent to
him by a Swiss officer, one of his friends, that he might examine them
at his leisure. We conversed together about the prints contained in
them, and concerning the antiquity of engraving on wood. I will now
give the description of these ancient volumes, such as I wrote in
his presence, and as he had the goodness to dictate to me: “Upon a
cartouche, or frontispiece, decorated with fanciful ornaments, which,
although Gothic, are far from disagreeable, and measuring about nine
inches in width by six inches in height, with the arms, no doubt,
of the family of Cunio at the top of it, are rudely engraved the
following words, in bad Latin, or ancient Gothic Italian, with many
abbreviations:
“The Heroic Actions, represented in Figures, of the great and
magnanimous Macedonian King, the bold and valiant Alexander, [p130]
dedicated, presented, and humbly offered to the most holy father
Pope Honorius II, the glory and support of the Church, and to our
illustrious and generous father and mother—by us, Allessandro Alberico
Cunio, cavalier, and Isabella Cunio, twin brother and sister—first
reduced, imagined, and attempted to be executed in relief, with a
small knife, on blocks of wood, and made even and polished by this
dear sister, and continued and finished by us together, at Ravenna,
from eight pictures of our invention, painted six times larger than
here represented, engraved and explained by verses, and thus marked
upon the paper, to perpetuate the number of them, and to enable us to
present them to our relatives and friends, in testimony of gratitude,
friendship and affection. All this was done and finished by us when
only sixteen years of age.”[55]
The book was, apparently, in its original binding of thin plates of
wood, covered with leather, but without any gilding, ornamented only
by crossed divisions marked with a heated iron. Papillon says that
the engravings were cut in a crude, experimental manner, and that
they appear to have been printed by rubbing the palm of the hand or
a frotton many times over the paper. The tint of the ink was a pale,
faded blue, mixed as water color. The field of the engravings was badly
routed out; projections that soiled the paper appeared in several
places, obscuring words, which had subsequently been written on the
margin. Neither the engravings, nor the memoir bound with them, furnish
us with dates; but there can be no doubt as to the period in which the
engravings were ostensibly made, for Pope Honorius occupied the papal
chair only between April 2, 1285, and April 3, 1287.
There is nothing improbable in the statement that prints like these
could have been made in 1285. There may be a substratum of truth
under the exaggerations raised by family pride and a love for the
marvelous; but the memoir of the lives of the two Cunios, and the
details furnished by Papillon about the appearance of the engravings,
are altogether unsatisfactory.{1} Whatever opinion may be formed of
the credibility [p131] of the story of the two Cunios,[56] it must be
admitted that their prints had no known influence in the development
of engraving on wood. They were not imitated. The interval between
the years 1285 and 1440 is almost an absolute blank in the annals of
Italian engraving: it furnishes us neither trace nor tradition of
engravings on wood. The oldest authentic Italian engravings on wood are
in _The Meditations of John of Turrecremata_, a book printed at Rome in
1467; but these engravings cannot be claimed as illustrations of the
development of the Italian practice of the art, for they were designed
and cut by or for Ulric Hahn, a German printer.
This silence of the early chroniclers should not be construed as
evidence that there was no engraving on wood; it is evidence only of
the trivial nature of the work done. To specify the work is to justify
the neglect. It consisted, so far as we know, only of stamps for the
use of notaries, autographs for those who did not write, trade-marks
for merchants’ packages, outlined initials for inexpert scribes, and
engraved blocks for manufacturers of textile fabrics. This paltry
work seems specially inappropriate for the initiation of a great art
destined to make a revolution in literature.
Engraving on wood was not considered as a great art by the earlier
engravers. As it appeared to them, it was but a makeshift, a mechanical
method of evading the labor of difficult drawing or of abridging its
drudgery. To the chroniclers of this period, engraving was entirely
unworthy of notice. No one could see that it had any marked merit. So
far from deserving praise, the art of engraving and printing letters
was [p132] regarded as a confessed acknowledgment of inability to
draw, more deserving of censure than of praise. There were in the
thirteenth century workmen, now unknown, who produced exquisite
workmanship in the carving of wood and stone, in the chasing of gold
and silver, and in the copying of manuscripts. If these men were
thought unworthy of notice, the rude engravers on wood would be
entirely forgotten. The paltriness of the printed matter, and the
perishable nature of the substances on which the printing was done,
will account for the disappearance of most of the early prints. Nobody
cared to preserve a bit of printed cotton cloth as evidence of the
method of printing then in fashion. Nobody could foresee that it would
be of any interest.
The trivial nature of the work cannot be considered as an evidence of
the incompetency of the engravers to do work of merit. They left us no
printing of permanent value, because they knew of no proper substance
to print upon. The only materials available were parchment, papyrus
and stiff cotton paper, all of which were unsuitable. Printing can be
done to advantage only on paper, but paper was sparingly used in the
fourteenth century. When paper came, printing followed.
[p133]
VIII
The Introduction of Paper in Europe.
Paper Invented in China in the First Century . . . Paper-Making
in Japan, with Illustration . . . Description of Process . . . An
Illustration of Oriental Book-Making . . . The European Process like
the Oriental . . . Paper known in Europe in the Fifth Century . . .
Not used for Writing . . . Made of Cotton . . . Earliest Notice of
Linen Paper . . . Differences of Opinion concerning its Introduction
. . . Different Methods of Preparing Pulp . . . Early European
Paper-Mills . . . Illustration of Paper-Mill by Jost Amman . . .
Mills in Spain, France, Sicily and Italy . . . Possible Antiquity
of the European Process . . . Paper not used by Copyists . . . Its
Inferiority . . . Vellum Preferred . . . Palimpsests . . . Government
Interference with Manufacturers of Paper . . . Changes of Fashion in
Paper . . . Paper came in Proper Time.
* * * * *
It is peculiarly characteristic of all the pretended discoveries of
the middle ages, that when the historians mention them for the first
time, they treat them as things in general use. Neither gunpowder, nor
the compass, nor the Arabic numerals, nor paper, are anywhere spoken
of as discoveries, and yet they must have wrought a total change in
war, in navigation, in science and in education.
_Sismendi._
* * * * *
According to Chinese chronology, paper was invented in China at the
close of the first century, or one hundred and forty-five years[57]
after the Chinese invention of printing. All the printing that had been
done before the invention of paper was on sheets or leaves of cotton or
silk. This version of the antiquity of the Chinese invention is in some
degree corroborated by a Japanese chronicle, which says that paper was
exported from the Corea to Japan between the years 280 and 610 A. D.
In time, the Japanese paper was made so superior to the Chinese, that
there was no further need for importation. This superiority has been
maintained to this day. In some branches of paper-making, the Japanese
are [p134] without rivals in either the eastern or western world. Two
hundred and sixty-three kinds of paper are now made in Yeddo. Some of
them may have their origin in reasons of habit, caprice or fashion,
but most of them are made for specific uses. Papers are manufactured
not only for writing and printing, but for hats, umbrellas, lanterns,
clothing, dolls’ dresses, twine, candle-wick, and an endless variety
of useful or ceremonious purposes. An anonymous author has wisely
remarked: “When a people contrive to make saucepans that are used over
charcoal fires, fine pocket-handkerchiefs, and sailors’ water-proof
overcoats out of paper, they may be considered as having pretty
thoroughly mastered the subject.”
The illustration on the opposite page is the reduced fac-simile of the
engraving of a Japanese artist who has attempted to show how paper was
made in his country in the eighteenth century. The grim old man who
may be seen at the upper part of the illustration, with a leg in one
page, and with head and body in another, is beating paper stock to a
pulp.[58] His only tool is a forked club, with which he pounds on the
stone, and macerates the leaves and inner bark of various trees that
have been previously saturated in an adjoining tub that is supposed to
contain a solution of caustic alkali. How the stock could be reduced to
the requisite smoothness for paper pulp by this rough manipulation is a
problem that no American paper-maker will undertake to solve. We only
know that it is done and well done. The long tank in the centre of the
left-hand page contains the pulp dissolved in water. Two men are taking
out the pulp upon paper-moulds, or sieves of bamboo splints which have
been wire-drawn and boiled in oil. The water taken up with the pulp is
drained through the holes in the sieve, leaving upon the woven splints
a thin and flabby web of paper pulp. The web is then couched on [p136]
a surface of cloth or felt, or of some substitute of similar nature,
on which, in turn, another layer of felt and pulp is placed. When the
pile is of sufficient height it is pressed, until all the water that
can be expelled by pressure is removed. The two attendants on the
paper-makers near the tank are engaged in the work of interleaving the
web and carrying it to be pressed. This done, the sheet is firm enough
to be handled. It is then laid upon a smooth board where it stays until
it is dry. The operation of surfacing or polishing the sheet of paper,
by burnishing it with a smooth shell, is not shown in the engraving.
But this finish was not given to all papers. The neatly corded bales
show that paper was made in large quantities.
[Illustration: The Japanese Method of Making Paper.
[From Breitkopf.]]
This engraving is of service as an illustration of oriental
book-making. These two pages were engraved and printed together on one
side of the paper. The sheet was then folded through the centre: the
folded edge was made the outer edge, while the two cut or raw edges
were neatly stitched together and made the back of the book. This
method of sewing through the cut edges, instead of through the fold,
began with the use of the cut leaves of silk or cotton, which were
used in printing the earliest Chinese books before paper was made. If
the cut edges of silk or cotton were made the outer edges of the book,
the leaves would soon fray or ravel out in threads; if they were made
the inner edges, the integrity of the leaf would necessarily be more
secure. Like other habits and fashions, this curious mode of binding
has been continued when the necessity for it has ceased to exist.
Although this engraving was made in the eighteenth century, it may be
accepted as a correct representation of paper-making as it has always
been practised in China and Japan. Rude as this process may seem, it
is, in its more important features, excepting that of pulp-beating, the
process that was used in Europe until the invention of the cylinder and
Fourdrinier paper-making machines. Nor is this process entirely out of
fashion. There are paper-makers yet living who have [p137] taken pulp
out of the vats with hand moulds and deckle, and have couched it on
felts, substantially by the same method that was in use in Asia fifteen
hundred years ago.
Oriental paper-makers do not use rags nor raw cotton for making their
pulp. They select different kinds of bamboo, and the bark and leaves
of various trees, which they combine in unequal proportions, so as
to produce for different kinds of paper the different qualities of
strength, smoothness and flexibility. These materials are saturated in
lime water, and are sometimes boiled to free them from useless matter.
Barks are sometimes triturated with pestles in a mortar. While the
greatest care is taken to prevent the cutting of the fibres in too
short lengths, every expedient is made use of to split up the fibres in
the finest threads. The result of this care is the production of papers
of wonderful strength and flexibility.
It is admitted by all historians that the early European practice of
paper-making was derived from Asia. How the knowledge of the art was
transmitted to us from China, Persia or India, and where and when paper
was first made in Europe are questions of controversy. The difficulty
we encounter in an inquiry concerning its derivation is aggravated by
the discovery that two kinds of paper—one, said to be made of cotton,
and another, said to be made of linen or rags—were used in Europe at a
very early period—a period in which we find no traces of the existence
of a European paper-mill. Proteaux says that a thick card or card-like
paper came in use during the fifth century,[59] when the manufacture of
papyrus was declining. But its first use was not as a substitute for
papyrus or parchment. It was called _charta damascena_, the card of
Damascus; _charta gossypina_, or the cotton card; _charta bombycina_,
or the silk-like card; _serica_, or the silky fabric. It was usually
mentioned as a card; for it was so thick, and so unlike papyrus, that
it was regarded as a different thing, and [p138] was defined by a
different name. This cotton card or cotton paper was thick, coarse,
woolly, yellow and somewhat fragile. It was so inferior to papyrus,
parchment or linen paper as a writing surface, and was so generally
neglected by professional copyists, that all the earlier chroniclers of
paper-making have passed it by as unworthy of notice.
The linen paper, so called, came in use at a much later period, but
there is great disagreement among authorities as to the date. Meerman,
the author of a learned book on the origin of printing, offered a
reward for the earliest manuscript on linen paper, which, he decided,
could not have been used in Europe before 1270. Montfaucon, a learned
antiquary, says that he could find no book nor leaf of linen paper of
earlier date, but he thinks that it was known and used in Europe to a
limited extent before 1270. Gibbon, citing the authority of Arabian
historians, says that a linen paper was made in Samarcand in the eighth
century, and leaves his reader to form the inference that not long
after, paper found its way to Europe. Casiri, a Spanish author, who
made a catalogue of the Arabian manuscripts in the Escurial, says that
in this collection are many old manuscripts of the twelfth century
on linen paper, including one of the year 1100. But we are not told
that this paper was made in Spain; it may have been brought from the
East. Tiraboschi, an Italian historian, says that linen paper is the
invention of an Italian, Pace de Fabiano of Treviso, who flourished
about the middle of the fourteenth century. But Peter Mauritius,
abbot of a French monastery at Cluny, in a treatise written by him in
1120 against the Jews, says, “The books we read every day are made of
the skins of sheep, goats and calves [parchment], of oriental plants
[papyrus], or of the scrapings of old rags, or of any other compacted
refuse material.”[60] It would be a hopeless task to attempt to gather
from these discordant [p139] statements a satisfactory explanation of
the origin or of the introduction of paper in Europe.
The modern paper-maker, who produces paper pulp from mixtures in
variable proportions of all kinds of textile rubbish, will doubt the
ability of any antiquary to distinguish linen from cotton paper,
especially when Tiraboschi admits that cotton paper was made in Italy
during the fourteenth century so closely resembling linen paper that
only a paper-maker could perceive the difference. The microscope that
enables the educated investigator to detect the characteristic features
of every kind of vegetable fibre is really the only safe test[61] for
determining the constituents of paper; but it does not appear that
this instrument was ever used by the authors who have undertaken to
discriminate between linen and cotton paper. The explanation of these
contradictory statements must be sought in another quarter.
The peculiarities of the so-called linen and cotton papers are due more
to their distinct methods of manufacture than to the material used. The
earliest notice of the manufacture of paper in Europe clearly specifies
the practice of two unlike methods. We are told that, in the year
1085, a paper-mill at Toledo, which had been operated by the Moors,
passed into the hands of Christians, probably Spaniards, who made great
improvements in the manufacture. The Moors made paper pulp by grinding
the raw cotton, a process which hastened the work, but it shortened and
weakened the fibres, making a paper that was tender and woolly. The
Spaniards stamped the cotton and rags into a pulp, by pestles or stamps
driven by water power, a method which preserved the long fibres that
gave the fabric its strength. This paper, now known as linen paper, was
then known as parchment cloth. The cotton paper of the antiquarians is,
apparently, the paper that had its fibres cut by grinding; the linen
paper was the paper made from pulp that had been beaten. [p140]
The first European paper-mills seem to have been established by the
Moors or Saracens who had direct intercourse with the East. Paper was
made at Xativa, Valencia, and at other towns of Spain, by Moors and
Spaniards, and the paper made at Xativa was much commended for its
whiteness. We find mention, also, of a family of paper-makers in the
island of Sicily in the year 1102. For many years the Moors were not
only the largest manufacturers, but the largest consumers. In various
cities of Spain, seventy libraries were opened for the instruction of
the public, during a period when all the rest of Europe, without books,
without learning and without cultivation, was plunged in the most
disgraceful ignorance.[62]
[Illustration: Paper-Mill of the Sixteenth Century.
[From Jost Amman.]]
In this illustration, which was first published by Jost Amman in his
_Book of Trades_, we see something of the mechanism always used for
preparing the pulp for paper. Large water-wheels, partially seen
through the window, set in motion a wooden cylinder evenly spiked
with projections. As the cylinder revolved, these projections tilted
up, and then dropped heavy stampers of hard wood that beat against
the torn and well-soaked rags lying within the tank. The stamping
was continued until the macerated rags were of the consistency of
cream. The stuff thus made was then transferred to tubs, at one of
which a [p141] paper-maker is at work. The dipping out of the pulp
with hand mould and deckle, the couching of the web on interleaving
felts, and its transfer to be pressed by the brisk little boy, are the
same processes in all points as those that have been described in the
Japanese engraving. The processes of sorting and washing the rags, and
of bleaching the half-made stuff are not shown in the cut, but they
were not neglected. The screw press behind the paper-moulder is the
only innovation of importance.
The development of paper-making in Europe cannot be traced with any
degree of certainty. There are Italian authors who assert that linen
paper was made in Lombardy and Tuscany as early as the year 1300, and
that the Italian knowledge of the art was derived not from Spain or
Sicily, but through the Greeks at Constantinople, who had been taught
how to make paper by the Saracens. The earliest authentic mention of
an Italian paper-mill is that concerning the mill of Fabiano, which
had been in operation for some years before 1340, and which produced
at that time nothing but the cotton card-paper. There is no record of
paper-mills in the Netherlands during the fourteenth century. Paper
was made at Troyes, France, in the year 1340. In the British Islands
there was no paper-mill before that of John Tate, who is supposed to
have established it in the year 1498. In Germany, a paper-mill was
established at Nuremberg by Ulman Stromer about the year 1390.[63] But
the different paper-marks in the home-made paper of German manuscripts
of this period are indications that there were paper-mills in many
German towns. [p142]
The gradual development of paper-making in Europe is but imperfectly
presented through these fragmentary facts. Paper may have been made
for many years before it found chroniclers who thought the manufacture
worthy of notice. The Spanish paper-mills of Toledo which were at work
in the year 1085, and an ancient family of paper-makers which was
honored with marked favor by the king of Sicily in the year 1102, are
carelessly mentioned by contemporary writers as if paper-making was
an old and established business. It does not appear that paper was a
novelty at a much earlier period. The bulls of the popes of the eighth
and ninth centuries were written on cotton card or cotton paper, but
no writer called attention to this card, or described it as a new
material. It has been supposed that this paper was made in Asia, but
it could have been made in Europe. A paper-like fabric, made from the
barks of trees, was used for writing by the Longobards in the seventh
century, and a coarse imitation of the Egyptian papyrus, in the form of
a strong brown paper, had been made by the Romans as early as the third
century. The art of compacting in a web the macerated fibres of plants
seems to have been known and practised to some extent in Southern
Europe long before the establishment of Moorish paper-mills.
The Moors brought to Spain and Sicily not an entirely new invention,
but an improved method of making paper, and what was more important, a
culture and civilization that kept this method in constant exercise.
It was chiefly for the lack of ability and lack of disposition to put
paper to proper use that the earlier European knowledge of paper-making
was so barren of results. The art of book-making as it was then
practised was made subservient to the spirit of luxury more than to the
desire for knowledge. Vellum was regarded by the copyists as the only
substance fit for writing on, even when it was so scarce that it could
be used only for the most expensive books. The card-like cotton paper
once made by the Saracens was certainly known in Europe for many years
[p143] before its utility was recognized. Hallam says that the use of
this cotton paper was by no means general or frequent, except in Spain
or Italy, and perhaps in the South of France, until the end of the
fourteenth century. Nor was it much used in Italy for books.[64]
Paper came before its time and had to wait for recognition. It was
sorely needed. The Egyptian manufacture of papyrus, which was in a
state of decay in the seventh century, ceased entirely in the ninth or
tenth. Not many books were written during this period, but there was
then, and for at least three centuries afterward, an unsatisfied demand
for something to write upon. Parchment was so scarce that reckless
copyists frequently resorted to the desperate expedient of effacing the
writing on old and lightly esteemed manuscripts. It was not a difficult
task. The writing ink then used was usually made of lamp-black, gum,
and vinegar; it had but a feeble encaustic property, and it did not
bite in or penetrate the parchment. The work of effacing this ink was
accomplished by moistening the parchment with a weak alkaline solution
and by rubbing it with pumice-stone. This treatment did not entirely
obliterate the writing, but made it so indistinct that the parchment
could be written over the second time. Manuscripts so treated are
now known as palimpsests. All the large European public libraries
have copies of the palimpsests which are melancholy illustrations of
the literary tastes of many writers or book-makers during the middle
ages. More convincingly than by argument, they show the utility of
paper. Manuscripts of the _Gospels_, of the _Iliad_, and of works of
the highest merit, often of great beauty and accuracy, are dimly seen
underneath stupid sermons, and theological writings of a nature so
paltry [p144] that no man living cares to read them. In some instances
the first writing has been so thoroughly scrubbed out that its meaning
is irretrievably lost.
Much as paper was needed, it was not at all popular with copyists.
Their prejudice was not altogether unreasonable, for it was thick,
coarse, knotty, and in every way unfitted for the display of ornamental
penmanship or illumination. The cheaper quality, then known as cotton
paper, was especially objectionable. It seems to have been so badly
made as to need governmental interference. Frederick II of Germany, in
the year 1221, foreseeing evils that might arise from bad paper, made a
decree by which he made invalid all public documents that should be put
on cotton paper, and ordered them within two years to be transcribed
upon parchment. Peter II, of Spain, in the year 1338, publicly
commanded the paper-makers of Valencia and Xativa to make their paper
of a better quality and equal to that of an earlier period.
The better quality of paper, now known as linen paper, had the merits
of strength, flexibility and durability in a high degree, but it was
set aside by the copyists because the fabric was too thick and the
surface was too rough. The art of calendering or polishing papers until
they were of a smooth, glossy surface, which was then practised by
the Persians, was unknown to, or at least unpractised by, the early
European makers. The changes of fashion in the selection of writing
papers are worthy of passing notice. The rough hand-made papers so
heartily despised by the copyists of the thirteenth century are now
preferred by neat penmen and draughtsmen. The imitations of medieval
paper, thick, harsh, and dingy, and showing the marks of the wires
upon which the fabric was couched, are preferred by men of letters for
books and correspondence, while highly polished modern plate papers,
with surfaces much more glossy than any preparation of vellum, are now
rejected by them as finical and effeminate.
There is a popular notion that the so-called inventions of paper and
xylographic printing were gladly welcomed by [p145] men of letters,
and that the new fabric and the new art were immediately pressed into
service. The facts about to be presented in succeeding chapters will
lead to a different conclusion. We shall see that the makers of playing
cards and of image prints were the men who first made extended use of
printing, and that self-taught and unprofessional copyists were the men
who gave encouragement to the manufacture of paper. The more liberal
use of paper at the beginning of the fifteenth century by this newly
created class of readers and book-buyers marks the period of transition
and of mental and mechanical development for which the crude arts of
paper-making and of block-printing had been waiting for centuries.
We shall also see that if paper had been ever so cheap and common
during the middle ages, it would have worked no changes in education
or literature; it could not have been used by the people, for they
were too illiterate; it would not have been used by the professional
copyists, for they preferred vellum and despised the substitute.
[p146]
IX
The Book-Makers of the Middle Ages.
Education controlled by the Church . . . All Books in Latin . . .
Ecclesiastics the only Scholars and Book-Makers . . . Copyists in
Constantinople . . . In Ireland . . . Charlemagne’s Educational Policy
. . . Copyists of France and their Work . . . The Scriptoriums of
Monasteries . . . Errors of Copyists . . . Illuminators of Books . . .
Bookbinders . . . Profuse Ornamentation of Books . . . Neglect of
Books and Copying by Monks . . . Copyists and Book-Makers appear among
the Laity . . . Regulations of the University of Paris about Copyists
. . . Character of Medieval Books . . . Universal Appreciation of
Pictures . . . General Use of Abbreviations . . . Paper Used only
for Inferior Books . . . Rise of the Romance Literature . . . Its
Luxurious Books . . . Book-Collecting a Princely Pastime . . . High
Prices paid for Books of Merit . . . Fondness for Expensive Books
retarded the Development of Printing.
* * * * *
With that of the boke losende were the claspis:
The margent Was illumynid all With golded railles
And byse, enpicturid with gressoppes and waspis,
With butterflyis and freshe pecocke taylis,
Enflorid With flowris and slymy snaylis;
Enuyuid picturis well towchid and quikly;
It wolde haue made a man hole that had be ryght sekely,
To beholde how it was garnyschyd and bounde,
Encouerde ouer with gold of tisseu fyne;
The claspis and bullyons were worth a thousande pounde;
With balassis and charbuncles the borders did shyne;
With aurum mosaicum every other lyne
Was wrytin.
_Skelton._
* * * * *
From the sixth to the thirteenth century, the ecclesiastics of the
Roman Catholic church held all the keys of scholastic knowledge. They
wrote the books, kept the libraries, and taught the schools. During
this period there was no literature worthy of the name that was not in
the dead language Latin, and but little of any kind that did not treat
of theology. A liberal education was of no value to any one who did not
propose to be a monk or priest. Science, as we [p147] now understand
the word, and classical literature, were sadly neglected. Scholastic
theology and metaphysical philosophy were the studies which took
precedence of all others. The knowledge derived through these narrow
channels may have been imperfect, but it was a power. The church kept
it to and for itself; hedging it in with difficulty and mystery, and
making it inaccessible to poor people. The study of Latin would have
been neglected, and its literature forgotten, if this dead language had
not been the language of the Scriptures, of the canons and liturgies
of the church, and of the writings of the fathers. Ecclesiastics were
required, by virtue of their position, to study Latin, but there were
many in high station, even as late as the fourteenth century, who were
barely able to read,[65] and many more who could not write.
The manufacture by professional copyists of the books of devotion
required for the services of the church, which had died of neglect
in Rome, and which had been driven out of Constantinople by the
hostility of the iconoclastic emperors, re-appeared in Ireland,
with unprecedented elegance of workmanship. It does not appear that
the diligence of the monks at Iona was of any permanent benefit to
Ireland, but it was of great value to the corrupted religion and waning
civilization of Western Europe. Irish missionaries founded schools
and monasteries in England, and taught their Anglo-Saxon converts to
ornament books after a fashion now known and described as the Saxon
style. Books of great beauty, [p148] admirably[66] written by unknown
Irish copyists, are still preserved in Germany, France and Switzerland,
to which countries Irish missionaries were sent from Iona between the
sixth and ninth centuries. These missionaries revived the taste for
letters.
Flaccus Alcuin, an Englishman and a graduate of Anglo-Saxon schools,
the teacher and adviser of Charlemagne, was authorized by the
great emperor to institute a policy which would multiply books and
disseminate knowledge. It was ordered that every abbot, bishop and
count should keep in permanent employment a qualified copyist who must
write correctly, using Roman letters only, and that every monastic
institution should maintain a room known as the _scriptorium_, fitted
up with desks and furnished with all the implements for writing.
The work of copying manuscripts and increasing libraries was made a
life-long business. Alcuin earnestly entreated the monks to zealousness
in the discharge of this duty. “It is,” he writes, “a most meritorious
work, more beneficial to the health than working in the fields, which
profits only a man’s body, whilst the labor of the copyist profits his
soul.” On another occasion, Alcuin exhorted the monks who could not
write neatly to learn to bind books. [p149]
[Illustration: The Scriptorium.
[From Lacroix.]]
The copyists of the middle ages may be properly divided in two classes:
the class that considered copying an irksome duty and that did its work
mechanically and badly; the class that treated book-making as a purely
artistic occupation, and gave the most time and care to ornamentation.
The book-makers who made search for authentic copies, comparing the
different texts of books and correcting their errors, did not appear
until after the invention of printing. The mechanical drudges, who were
always most numerous, not only repeated the errors of their faulty
copies, but added to them. Errors became so frequent that some of the
more careful and conscientious copyists thought it necessary to repeat
at the end of every book the solemn adjuration of Irenæus:
I adjure thee who shall transcribe this book, by our Lord Jesus
Christ, and by his glorious coming to judge the quick and dead, [p150]
that thou compare what thou transcribest, and correct it carefully
according to the copy from which thou transcribest, and that thou also
annex a copy of this adjuration to what thou hast written.
The illustration annexed, the fac-simile of a few lines from a
Latin Bible written in the ninth century, is a fair example of the
carelessness of many mechanical copyists. The words _In illo tempore_
are not to be found in correct copies of the Vulgate;[67] the very
awkward writing, the running together of words, the unnecessary
contractions, and the misuse of capital letters, are flagrant blemishes
that call for no comment.
[Illustration: The Penmanship of a Copyist of the Ninth Century.
[From Lacroix.]]
The letters of this book are of the Roman form, as had been commanded
by Charlemagne; but this form of writing gradually went out of use, not
only in France, but even in Italy and Spain. The unskillful writers who
could not properly produce the plain lines and true curves of Roman
letters, tried to hide the ungainliness of their awkwardly constructed
characters by repeated touches of the pen, which made them bristle
with angles. In the golden age of pointed architecture and superfluous
ornamentation, this fault became a fashion. The pointed letters became
known as ecclesiastic letters, and then there seemed to be a special
propriety in putting finials and crockets on the letters of books of
piety. It is to the failing skill and bad taste of inexpert copyists
more than to their desire to construct an improved form of writing,
that [p151] we may trace the origin of the Black or Gothic letter,[68]
which, under a great many names and modifications, was employed in all
books until supplanted by the Roman types of Jenson.
The copyists and calligraphers were stimulated to do their best by
the religious zeal of wealthy laymen who frequently gave to religious
houses large sums of money for the copying and ornamentation of books.
It was taught that the gift of an illuminated book, or of the means
to make it, was an act of piety which would be held in perpetual
remembrance. For the medieval books of luxury thus made to order, the
finest vellum was selected. The size most in fashion was that now
known as demy folio, of which the leaf is about ten inches wide and
fifteen inches long, but smaller sizes were often made. The space to
be occupied by the written text was mapped out with faint lines, so
that the writer could keep his letters on a line, at even distance from
each other and within the prescribed margin. Each letter was carefully
drawn, and filled in or painted with repeated touches of the pen. With
good taste, black ink was most frequently selected for the text; red
ink was used only for the more prominent words, and the catch-letters,
then known as the rubricated letters. Sometimes texts were written in
blue, green, purple, gold or silver inks, but it was soon discovered
that texts in bright color were not so readable as texts in black.
[Illustration: A French Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century.
[From Lacroix.]]
When the copyist had finished his sheet, he passed it to the designer,
who sketched the border, pictures and initials. The sheet was then
given to the illuminator, who painted it. [p152] The ornamentation
of a medieval book of the first class is beyond description by words
or by wood-cuts. Every inch of space was used. Its broad margins were
filled with quaint ornaments, sometimes of high merit, admirably
painted in vivid colors. Grotesque initials, which, with their
flourishes, often spanned the full height of the page, or broad bands
of floriated tracery that occupied its entire width, were the only
indications of the changes of chapter or of subject. In printers’
phrase, the composition was “close-up and solid” to the extreme degree
of compactness. The uncommonly free use of red ink for the smaller
initials was not altogether a matter of taste; if the page had been
written entirely in black ink, it would have been unreadable through
its blackness. This nicety in writing consumed much time, but the
medieval copyist was seldom governed by considerations of time or
expense. It was of little consequence whether the book he transcribed
would be finished in one or in ten years. It was required only that
he should keep at his work steadily and do his best. His skill is
more to be commended than his taste. Many of his initials and borders
were outrageously inappropriate for the text for which they were
designed. The gravest truths were hedged in with the most childish
conceits. Angels, butterflies, [p153] goblins, clowns, birds, snails
and monkeys, sometimes in artistic, but much oftener in grotesque,
and sometimes in highly offensive positions, are to be found in the
illuminated borders of copies of the gospels and the writings of the
fathers.
[Illustration: Medieval Bookbinding.
[From Jost Amman.]]
The book was bound by the forwarder, who sewed the leaves and put them
in a cover of leather or velvet; by the finisher, who ornamented the
cover with gilding and enamel. The annexed illustration of bookbinding,
published by Amman in his _Book of Trades_, puts before us many of the
implements still in use. The forwarder, with his customary apron of
leather, is in the foreground, making use of a plow-knife for trimming
the edges of a book. The lying-press which rests obliquely against the
block before him contains a book that has received the operation of
backing-up from a queer-shaped hammer lying upon the floor. The workman
at the end of the room is sewing together the sections of a book,
for sewing was properly regarded as a man’s work, and a scientific
operation altogether beyond the capacity of the raw seamstress.
The work of the finisher is not represented, but the brushes, the
burnishers, the sprinklers and the wheel-shaped gilding tools hanging
against the wall leave us in no doubt as to their use. There is an air
of antiquity about everything connected with this bookbindery which
suggests the thought that its tools [p154] and usages are much older
than those of printing. Chevillier says that seventeen professional
bookbinders found regular employment in making up books for the
University of Paris, as early as 1272. Wherever books were produced in
quantities, bookbinding was set apart as a business distinct from that
of copying.
[Illustration: The Medieval Illuminator.
[From Jost Amman.]]
The poor students who copied books for their own use were also obliged
to bind them, which they did in a simple but efficient manner, by
sewing together the folded sheets, attaching them to narrow parchment
bands, the ends of which were made to pass through a cover of stout
parchment, at the joint near the back. The ends of the bands were then
pasted down under the stiffening sheet of the cover, and the book was
pressed. Sometimes the cover was made flexible by the omission of the
stiffening sheet; sometimes the edges of the leaves were protected by
flexible and overhanging flaps which were made to project over the
covers; or by the insertion in the covers of stout leather strings with
which the two covers were tied together. Ornamentation was entirely
neglected, for a book of this character was made for use and not for
show. These methods of binding were mostly applied to small books
intended for the pocket: the workmanship was rough, but the binding was
strong and serviceable. [p155]
Books of larger size, made for the lecturn, were bound up in boards—not
an amalgamation of hard-pressed oakum, tar, and paper-pulp, but
veritable boards of planed wood, which were never less than one-quarter
inch, and sometimes were two inches in thickness.[69] The sheets
encased in these boards were gathered in sections usually of five
double leaves. The sections were sewed on rounded raw-hide bands
protected from cutting or cracking by a braided casing of thread. A
well-bound medieval book is a model of careful sewing: the thread,
repeatedly passed in and out of the sections and around the bands,
sometimes diagonally from one corner of the book to the other, is
caught up and locked in a worked head at the top and bottom of the
back. The bands, often fan-tailed at their ends, were pasted and
sometimes riveted in the boards. The joints were protected against
cracking by broad linings of parchment.
For a book that might receive rough usage, and that did not require
a high ornamental finish, hog-skin was selected as the strongest
and most suitable covering for the boards. The covers and the back
were decorated by marking them with fanciful patterns, lightly burnt
in the leather by heated rolls or stamps, from patterns and by
processes substantially the same as those used in manufacturing modern
accountbooks. For a book intended to receive an ornamentation of
gilded work, calf and goat-skin leathers were preferred. The gilding
was done with care, elaborately, artistically, with an excess of
minute decoration that is really bewildering, when one considers the
sparsity and simplicity of the tools in use. To protect the gilding on
the sides, the boards were often paneled or sunk in the centre, and
the corners, and sometimes the entire outer edges of the cover, were
shielded with thick projecting plates of brass or copper. A large boss
of [p156] brass in the centre, with smaller bosses or buttons upon
the corners, was also used to protect the gilding from abrasion. On
the cheaper books, bound in hog-skin, iron corners and a closely set
studding of round-headed iron nails were used for the same purpose.
To prevent the covers from warping outward, two clasps of brass were
attached to the covers.
[Illustration: A Sumptuously Bound Book.[70]
[From Chambers.]]
The book thus bound was too weighty to be held in the hand; it was so
full of angles and knobs that it could not be placed upon a flat table
without danger of scratching it. For the safety of the book and the
convenience of the reader, it was necessary that the book should be
laid on an inclined desk or a revolving lecturn, provided with a ledge
for holding it up and with holdfasts for keeping down the leaves. The
lecturn was really required for the protection of the reader. Petrarch,
when reading an unwieldy volume of the _Epistles of Cicero_, which he
held in his hands, and in which he was [p157] profoundly interested,
repeatedly let the book slip and fall, and so bruised his left leg
that he feared, for some time, that he would have to submit to its
amputation.
When the book was not in use, it was laid sidewise on the shelf with
the flat side fully exposed, showing to best advantage the beauty of
the binding. Its metal-studded sides prevented it from being stood
upright on the shelf. The book made for common use was frequently
covered with oak boards banded with iron. When exposed in church, it
was secured to a post or pillar with a chain.
[Illustration:
A Medieval Book with Covers of Oak.
[From Chambers.]
The mortise in the cover to the left was for the insertion
of the hand when the book was held up for reading.]
The ornamented cover of the sumptuous book was even more resplendent
than its illuminated text. Gilders, jewelers, silversmiths, engravers,
and painters took up the work which the binder had left, and lavished
upon it all the resources of their arts. A copy of the Evangelists
presented by Charlemagne to a church in France, was covered with plates
of gold and silver, and studded with gems. To another church the pious
sister of Charlemagne gave a book glittering with precious stones,
and with appropriate engraving upon a great agate in the centre of
the cover. We read of another book of devotion covered with plates
of selected ivory, upon which was sculptured, in high relief, with
questionable propriety, an illustration of the Feast of Bacchus. The
Cluny Museum at Paris contains two book-covers of enameled brass, one
of which has on the cover a very elaborate engraving of the Adoration
of the Wise Men. Books like these called for the display of a higher
degree of [p158] skill than could be found in monasteries. The
mechanics who were called in to perfect the work of the copyists soon
became familiar with all the details of book-making. Little by little
they encroached on the province of the copyist, and in time became
competent to do all his work.
[Illustration: Book-Cover in Ivory, Byzantine Style.
[From Berjeau.]]
During the twelfth century the ecclesiastical monopoly of book-making
began to give way. Literary work had grown irksome. The church had
secured a position of supremacy in temporal as well as spiritual
matters; it had grown rich, and showed disregard for the spiritual and
educational means by which its successes had been made. It began to
enjoy its prosperity. The neglect of books by many of the priests of
the thirteenth century was authorized by the example and precepts of
Francis d’Assisi, who suffered none of his followers to have Bible,
breviary or psalter. This new form of asceticism culminated in the
establishment of the order of the Mendicant Friars, which, in its
earlier days, was wonderfully popular. Founded for the purpose of
supplying the spiritual administrations which had been sadly neglected
by the beneficed clergy, who were not only ignorant but corrupt,[71]
the new order ultimately [p159] became even more neglectful of duty,
more ignorant and more immoral. The leaders of the friars were men
of piety, and some of them, disregarding the precept of the zealous
founder of the order, were students and collectors of books; but the
inferior clergy, with few exceptions, were extremely ignorant. They not
only exerted a mischievous influence upon the people, but they showed
to priests of other orders that the knowledge to be had from books was
not really necessary. The class of monks who had devoted their lives
to the copying, binding and ornamenting of books, imitated as far as
they could the example set by the pleasure-loving, ignorant friars,
and sought opportunities for relaxation.[72] The care of libraries was
neglected for pleasures of a grosser nature. The duties of copyists and
librarians passed, gradually and almost imperceptibly, into the hands
of the laity.
The business of selling books, which had been given up during the
decline of the Roman empire, re-appeared in the latter part of the
twelfth century in the neighborhood of the new Italian universities
of Padua and Bologna. To have the privilege of selling books to the
students, the booksellers were [p160] obliged to submit to a stringent
discipline. The restrictive legislation of the University of Paris, for
four centuries the greatest school of theology and the most renowned of
the European universities, may be offered as a suitable illustration of
the spirit shown to booksellers by all the schools of the middle ages.
Through its clerical teachers, the church claimed the right to control
the making, buying and selling of books. It extended its authority over
parchment-makers, bookbinders, and every other class of mechanics that
contributed in any way to their manufacture. The rules made by this
university reveal many curious facts concerning book-making, and teach
us, as a recent imperialist author has truly said, that the censorship
of books is older than printing.
We command that the stationers,[73] vulgarly called booksellers, shall
each year, or every other year, as may be required by the university,
take oath to behave themselves honestly and faithfully in all matters
concerning the buying, keeping or selling of books. In the year 1342,
they were required, touching the price of books, to tell the truth,
pure and simple, and without deceit or lying.
No bookseller could buy a book for the purpose of sale, until it had
been exposed for five days in the Hall of the University, and its
purchase had been declined by all the teachers and scholars.
The prices of books sold by the booksellers were fixed by four master
booksellers appointed by the university. Any attempt to get a higher
price entailed a penalty. No one could buy or sell books, or lend
money on them, without a special permit from the university.
The profit of the bookseller upon the sale of a book was fixed at four
deniers when sold to a teacher or scholar, and six deniers when sold
to the public.
No _pots-de-vin_, or drink-money, nor gratuities of any kind, were to
be exacted by the bookseller in addition to the fixed price.
Books should be made correct to copy, and be sold as correct in good
faith. The bookseller should be required to make an oath as to their
entire accuracy. Whoever sold incorrect books would be obliged to make
the corrections, and would be otherwise punished. [p161]
No bookseller should refuse to lend a book to the student who wished
to make a new copy from it, and who offered security and complied with
the terms fixed by the university.[74]
[Illustration: Seal of the Masters and Scholars of the University of
Paris.
[From Lacroix.]]
Before any newly written book could be offered for sale, it must
be submitted to the rector of the university, who had the power to
suppress it,[75] or correct it, and who, if it was approved, fixed its
price. [p162]
It does not surprise us to learn that the stationers did not thrive.
Under the hard pressure of taxation and censorship, the imposition of
arbitrary prices and compulsory loans, they found it very difficult to
earn a living. They were obliged to add another business to that of
book-publishing. A few became notaries; some sold furs, while their
wives in the same shop sold “fripperies and like haberdashery”; others
became the dressers of parchments and binders of books. Against these
innovations the regents of the university made unavailing protest,
severely censuring the base booksellers who “did not uphold the dignity
of their profession, but who mixed it up with vile trades.” But the
necessities of the half-starved booksellers compelled the university to
overlook the offense.
The best and largest books of the stationers were always of a
theological nature. In a list given by Chevillier of the books sold
in the fourteenth century by the booksellers to the university, are
found in the foremost place, books on the _Canon Law_, the _Homilies
of St. Gregory_, the _Book of Sacraments_, the _Confessions of St.
Augustine_, the _Homilies of St. Augustine_, the _Compendium of Thomas
Aquinas_,[76] and _St. Thomas on Metaphysics_, on _Physics_, on _Heaven
and Earth_, on the _Soul_. Copies of the Gospels or the Scriptures, or
even of the works of classical authors, were not in high request. The
most popular books were elementary works on grammar and philosophy, for
the use of students, and devotional works like creeds, catechisms, and
prayers, which were largely bought by the more pious part of the people
that were able to read.
The copyists made books for the more ignorant priests, books
containing a synopsis of Christian faith and doctrine, or descriptions
of important events recorded in the Scriptures. As an additional
refreshment of the memory, and to make them more enticing to the buyer,
these books were profusely illustrated with pen-and-ink drawings. The
_Bible of the Poor_, and the _Mirror of Man’s Redemption_, afterward
popular as [p163] printed books, are favorable specimens of a class
of illustrated manuscripts in common use among the inferior clergy
as far back as the tenth and eleventh centuries. They were sold to
the unlearned of the laity and to friars who could not read, but
who could understand the allegories taught through the pictures. An
increasing fondness for ornamentation and for pictorial illustration
may be noticed among both learned and unlearned. Manuscripts of every
description were adorned with pictures.[77] Abstruse theological
writings and treatises on geometry and philosophy were often decked out
with floriated borders and gaudily painted illustrations which would
now be considered as suitable only for children. It would seem that it
was through the pictorial attractions of a book, more than through its
text, that men were led to admire literature.
The copyists made books of small size which were sold to students for
trifling sums. Psalters, with leaves no larger than the palm of the
hand, were sold for a sol. Elementary school-books, like the _Logic of
Boethius_, were sometimes copied in a minute style of penmanship, and
were still further contracted with abbreviations until the writing had
the appearance of microscopic stenography. The minute penmanship may
be regarded as evidence of the great scarcity of parchment, and the
abbreviations as indications of the weariness of the writer.
The arbitrary order of the university, which compelled the booksellers
to lend their books to scholars, shows that it was customary for a
student or a poor man of letters to copy the books he needed. The
little books sold for a sol were manifestly made for readers who could
not even buy the vellum [p164] required for a book of the usual
size. It was necessary that books sold at this price should be of
the cheapest materials, and that the text should be abbreviated by
contractions[78] so that it would occupy but little space. The despised
fabric of paper, and the remnants of vellum rejected by professional
copyists after the skin had been cut up for leaves of folio or of
quarto size, were cheerfully accepted by readers who valued a book more
for its contents than for its appearance.
The scarcity of vellum in one century, and its abundance in another,
are indicated by the size of written papers during the same periods.
Before the sixth century, legal documents were usually written upon
one side only; in the tenth century the practice of writing upon both
sides of the vellum became common. During the thirteenth century,
valuable documents were often written upon strips two inches wide and
but three and a half inches long. At the end of the fourteenth century
these strips went out of fashion. The more general use of paper had
diminished the demand for vellum and increased the supply. In the
fifteenth century, legal documents on rolls of sewed vellum twenty feet
in length were not uncommon. All the valuable books of the fourteenth
century were written on vellum. In the library of the Louvre the
manuscripts on [p165] paper, compared to those on vellum, were as one
to twenty-eight; in the library of the Dukes of Burgundy, one-fifth of
the books were of paper. The increase in the proportion of paper books
is a fair indication of the increasing popularity of paper; but it
is obvious that vellum was even then considered as the more suitable
substance for a book of value.
The esteem with which books were regarded by priests and scholars
during the fourteenth century was shared by men of wealth, who coveted
books, not so much for their contents as for their pictures, and as
evidences of wealth and culture. A remarkable impulse had been given to
literature and to the making of books by the troubadours of Southern
France. Their songs of love and devotion to women, their encomiums of
chivalry, and stories of battle and adventure, which were of their
own age, fresh and full of life, and untainted by the influence of
withered classical models, had most unbounded popularity in every
grade of society. Uncultivated people, who would have yawned over the
reading of _Homer_ or the _Odes of Horace_, would listen with a keen
delight to the songs of a Provençal minstrel, or to the reading of
romances about Charlemagne and his Paladins, about Arthur and Merlin,
and the Knights of the Round Table. To men who had regarded books only
as dull treatises about theology, these romances were revelations of
an unsuspected attractiveness in literature. How much these romances
increased the respect for books, and led to the making of new copies,
and to a more general knowledge of reading and writing, cannot be
exactly stated; but their influence on the people was vastly greater
than that of the books of the schools. During the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries, books about love and chivalry constituted the
greater part of the secular literature of Europe. The most popular
books of Caxton, the first English printer, and of the early printers
of Paris, were of this character. To the ladies of France, the books of
love and song were especially attractive. It was largely through their
admiration that the workmanship of a new order of book-makers came in
fashion. [p166] To please their dainty tastes, copies were made with
refinements of calligraphy never before attempted; the unwieldy sizes
of folio and quarto were supplanted by small and handy duodecimos, and
bindings of a more delicate character were introduced.
The nature of the new literature, and the effeminate taste of the newly
made class of readers, seemed to call for changes in the old methods
of making books. It was necessary that the massiveness and barbaric
splendor of the monastic books should be supplanted by workmanship
combining elegance, lightness and delicacy. It was necessary that the
illustrations made for the lady’s missal, or for a book of romance,
should be designed, not by some grim old monk whose imagination had
been cramped by his solitary life, and whose narrowness and severity
were visible in all his workmanship, but by a courtier, an artist,
and man of fashion, who knew the world, who knew how to please it,
and how to paint it. To this class of men, the forerunners of courtly
artists like Durer, Holbein and Rubens, the manufacture of the new
books was intrusted. The new artists in book-making organized a nicer
division of labor, and supervised and directed the work at every stage
of its progress. A copyist selected for his skill wrote the text
in prescribed places on the sheets, and, by the uniformity of his
penmanship, gave character and connection to the work; one designer
sketched the borders, and another outlined the initials; an illuminator
filled in the outlines with gold-leaf and bright colors. Then came the
artist, or miniaturist, who drew the illustrations and painted the fine
pictures which gave the book its great charm. The artists were called
miniaturists because their illustrations were miniature pictures, as
artistically designed, and always more carefully painted than larger
paintings made for the adornment of churches, halls and picture
galleries. Avoiding the hard outlines and glaring pigments of the
illuminator, the miniaturist painted in low tints, and with the nicest
attention to harmony of color. The beauty of the work, which has been
but little affected [p167] by time, is recognized to this day. The
sheets which had been so artistically painted were as elegantly bound.
They were covered with silk, velvet, satin, or bright-colored leather,
embroidered with gold and pearls, studded with buttons of gold, banded
on the corners with shields, and secured with clasps of precious metals
engraved and enameled in the very finest style of decorative art.
Admirable as the books are, they do not give us a high opinion of the
intelligence of the artists, nor of the culture of their owners, for
they are full of anachronisms and absurdities in the pictures and in
the text.
This taste for elegant books, which began in the thirteenth century,
became a princely amusement. In 1373, Charles V of France was the
owner of more than nine hundred[79] books, most of which were written
on fine vellum, superbly bound, and adorned with precious stones and
clasps of silver or gold. His brothers fostered the same taste. Philip
the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, gathered around him artists, authors,
copyists, and bookbinders, and established a great library. His son,
John the Fearless, largely increased it, but the most costly additions
were made by Philip the Good, who, at the middle of the fifteenth
century, enjoyed the distinction of possessing the most magnificent
books in Western Europe. Books of equal beauty were also made in Italy,
but there was no part of Europe where calligraphers, miniaturists and
ornamental bookbinders found a higher appreciation of their skill than
in Burgundy and the Netherlands. Nor did this taste for fine [p168]
books soon go out of fashion. The business of making fine manuscript
books was not entirely destroyed by the invention of printing. Lacroix,
a French antiquary,[80] has shown us that copyists, illuminators,
designers and painters found employment in the embellishment of books
even as late as the last quarter of the seventeenth century.
During the middle ages, books of merit were everywhere sold at enormous
prices. Illustrated and illuminated volumes in elegant bindings seem
specially exorbitant, when we consider the greater purchasing capacity
of money. Daunou says, that in a computation of the value of a large
library of the fourteenth century, the average price of each manuscript
book should be fixed at about 450 francs. Didot says that, of three
hundred books contained in the library at Ratisbon, during the year
1231, the average price of each book was 600 francs. What proportion
should be allowed for binding and illumination is not stated, but it
can be proved that copying could not have been the labor of greatest
expense. In the fourteenth century the price of copying a Bible at
Bologna, exclusive of the value of binding, parchment and illumination,
was 80 Bolognese livres. In the fifteenth century, the price of copying
was steadily declining, while the prices of illuminating and binding
were increasing.
Books were expensive, not so much through the labor of the copyist,
who did the simplest and cheapest part of the work, but through the
extravagant ornamentation put on [p169] them by the illuminator and
the binder. The true office of the book was perverted. It was regarded,
not as a medium of instruction, but as a means for the display of
wealth and artistic tastes. The reader was really taught to value it
more for its dress than for its substance; the book-maker was most
appreciated when he made books so expensive that they were out of the
reach of ordinary buyers. To the modern book-buyer, the prices asked
for books of size and merit during the middle ages seem excessive, and
especially so when they are contrasted with the prices then paid for
food or labor.[81]
At the end of the fourteenth century, books of instruction were larger,
more ornamental, and, to the unschooled reader, more pedantic and more
forbidding than ever. We do not find in them any valuable contributions
to knowledge, nor do we discover in the writers or teachers of the
day any disposition to make knowledge easy to be acquired. The love
of great books during this period, frequently noticed as one of
the evidences of a true revival of literature, is, when critically
examined, evidence only of the artistic tastes of book-buyers and of
the exclusiveness of scholars. So far from paving the way for the
introduction of printing, this trifling with [p170] literature was one
of the most formidable impediments in its path. It made despicable even
the thought of an attempt to produce books by the simpler method of
printing, then in its first stage of practical development.
The princely patrons of literature, the learned doctors of the
universities, the copyists and stationers, the illuminators and
miniaturists, must have seen the playing cards and prints then sold
in all large cities, and, to some extent, must have known the process
by which they were made. But they looked on them with a pitying
contempt for the coarse tastes which could be satisfied with such rude
workmanship. The distance in degrees of merit between printed playing
cards and finely illuminated manuscript books seemed infinite. If the
cards conveyed a suggestion of the possibility of printed books, the
suggestion was rejected. To the dainty tastes of book-makers printing
was a barbarous trade; to the wealthy book-buyer, a printed book would
have been the degradation of art and literature. One may look in vain
among the book-makers and scholars of the fourteenth century for any
sign that heralded the coming of printing. Makers and buyers of books
seem to have been fully satisfied with things as they were—with the
established methods of book-making, with the organization of society
and the state of education. And the professed patrons of literature
would have been forever satisfied with this state of affairs. Under
their exclusive patronage, books would have been made more and more
sumptuously, and put more and more out of the reach of the people.
[p171]
X
The Preparations for Printing.
Imperfect Preparation of the People of Southern Europe . . .
Repression of Education in England. Early Gropings after Knowledge by
English People . . . The Horn-Book and Clog . . . Injurious Effects
of the Use of Latin in Books . . . Beginnings of Common Schools . . .
Their Usefulness in Germany and Flanders . . . Indications of Mental
Activity in the Arts . . . Favorable Condition of Germany as Compared
with other States . . . Profligacy of the Clergy . . . Growth of
Heresy . . . Early Translations of the Bible . . . Appreciation of
Pictures by the Illiterate . . . The Dance of Death. Neglect of the
People by their Constituted Teachers . . . Growing use of Paper . . .
Increase of Self-taught Copyists . . . Guilds of Book-Makers in the
North of Europe . . . Printing as an Aid to Writing . . . Printing
Delayed by Considerations of Expense . . . Could not be Introduced
until there were a Multitude of Readers . . . Books of Pictures
preceded Books of Letters.
* * * * *
No great fact, no social state, makes its appearance complete and
at once; it is formed slowly, successively; it is the result of a
multitude of different facts of different dates and origins, which
modify and combine themselves in a thousand ways before constituting a
whole, presenting itself in a clear and a systematic form, receiving a
special name, and standing through a long life.
_Guizot._
* * * * *
To the careless observer of the growth of learning and the state of
the mechanical arts at the beginning of the fifteenth century, Italy
might be regarded as the nation best prepared to receive and maintain
any new method of book-making. The neatly engraved initial letters in
manuscript books, the designs printed in many colors on woven fabrics,
and the extended manufacture of images and playing cards, prove
that the Italians knew how to print from blocks, and that they had
mechanical skill in abundance. In spite of her civil wars, Italy was
rich and prosperous, and famous all over the world, not only for her
universities and learned men, but [p172] for the cultured tastes of
her people. It would appear that all the conditions for the coming of
block-book printing had been filled, and that its introduction should
have followed as a consequence. But the conditions were only partly met.
To be ultimately successful, it was requisite that printing should
begin with the plainest work, and that it should be adapted to the
demands of very plain people; but the tastes of Italians were refined,
and they could not tolerate rudeness in any form. With all its skill,
wealth and culture, there was in Italy no true middle class, and,
consequently, no suitable basis for the upholding of an art like
xylography. The spirit which Woltmann has specified as the basis of
printing,—“the impulse to make each mental gain a common blessing,”—was
entirely wanting. As the professional book-makers, who were of the
people, did nothing for the advancement of their order, the development
of Italian printing had to stop with printed cards, cloths and images.
The skill of Italian engravers culminated, not, as it did in Germany,
in popular block-books, but in the more artistic and exclusive branch
of copper-plate printing. The efforts of Italian scholars to revive
the study of classical authors, however useful they may have been to
the people of other countries, ended in Italy with a widening of the
gulf that separated the ignorant from the educated. For the benefits of
printed books, Italy is indebted to the skill of German printers, whose
early productions had been excluded from Venice at the petition of her
querulous card-makers.
It may seem equally strange that block-book printing was not invented
in Spain, where textile fabrics were printed, and where paper was more
largely made and used than in any portion of Europe. We there find
schools, libraries, and signs of great mental activity. In poetry,
architecture, music and other fine arts, the people of Spain were as
advanced as the French or Italians. But the love of books, and the
culture that comes only from their study, were not firmly rooted in the
life and habits of common people. The education and social elevation
of the few had been secured at the expense [p173] of the many, and
literature and the literary arts had been so refined that they were
in decay. Nothing seems to have been done to pave the way for the
introduction of xylographic printing by attempts to educate the people.
The intellectual development of France resembled that of Italy and
Spain—it was a development of the literature of the church, and of
effeminate tastes among the wealthy, but from these the people derived
no benefit. France was then passing through the horrors of what French
historians call the “Hundred Years’ War” with England, during which
her population decreased at an alarming rate, and many of her arts and
industries were irreparably injured. The princes and nobles were waging
against each other a war of treason and assassination; the peasantry,
on whom feudal laws pressed more severely than they did on any other
people, broke out in the insurrection of the _Jacquerie_. In 1407,
the pope laid the kingdom under interdict, and the withdrawal of the
ministrations of the church were added to the horrors of civil and
servile war and the miseries of foreign invasion. It was not a time for
cultivating the arts of peace. There is, therefore, no block-book of
the fifteenth century in the French language, and there is no reason
to believe that any block-book printer ever attempted to establish his
business on French territory.
Of all the states of Western Europe, England seems to have been most
unfitted for the reception of printing. There were a few ecclesiastics
who saw the importance of books, and who tried to found libraries,
but the greater part of the clergy were very ignorant. They would
not learn, nor would they allow common people to be taught. It was
unlawful, even as late as 1412, for laborers, farmers and mechanics
to send their children to school. A great opportunity for popular
education was presented in Wickliffe’s translation of the Bible, which
could have been made an effective means for diffusing the knowledge
of letters among a religious people. But in 1415 it was enacted that
they who read the Scriptures in the mother tongue should be hanged for
treason, and burned for heresy. [p174]
[Illustration: An English Horn-Book.
[From Chambers.]]
In spite of all these impediments, there was a slow but positive
diffusion of knowledge among English people. How the knowledge was
communicated is not clear, for notices of common schools in England,
and indeed on the Continent, are infrequent and unsatisfactory. We
have, however, some curious relics of the substitutes for books used by
the people. One of them is the _Horn-Book_,[82] by which the children
were taught their letters and the Lord’s Prayer. The engraving annexed
represents a book that is of no earlier date than the reign of Charles
I, but it is a trustworthy illustration of the construction, if not of
the matter, of the horn-books in use in the fifteenth century. Another
of these substitutes is the _Clog_, a rude contrivance for marking the
order of coming days, which may be considered as the forerunner of the
printed almanac. [p175]
[Illustration: The Clog.[83]
[From Chambers.]]
The standard of English education was low, even in the universities.
An eminent Italian man of letters, in England in 1420, complains of
the scarcity of good books, and is not at all respectful to English
scholars.[84] The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge had been
established rather more than three hundred years, but they taught
bad Latin. There were few books of merit in the English language:
Wickliffe’s translation of the Bible, and the poems of Chaucer, Lydgate
and Gower, are all that deserve any notice. There was, as yet, no
universally spoken English language: French was the language of the
English nobility and of English courts and books of law, as late as
the year 1362; merchants and mercantile companies kept their books
in French; boys at school were required to translate [p176] Latin
into French.[85] The habitual employment of French as the language of
the nobility, and of Latin as the language of literature, shut the
doors of knowledge on those who spoke English only. In all countries
the elementary text books of the schools were in Latin. To learn
arithmetic, grammar or geography, the scholar must begin with the study
of Latin. The dead language was the path to all knowledge: it was a
circuitous and a wearisome path, but it was traveled by every student
destined for the church, or for the profession of law or medicine.
At a very early period the bishops of the Catholic church tried to
establish schools for children, but not so much for the teaching of
secular as of religious knowledge. In the year 800 a synod at Mentz
ordered that parochial priests should establish schools in all towns
and villages to teach letters to children. These orders were repeated
by other councils, but they could be enforced only in the larger
cities. In many rural districts common schools were entirely unknown.
As the clergy grew corrupt, they were neglected in cities.[86] The
primary schools were not always taught by ecclesiastics, but the church
claimed the right to supervise them, and made sure that its doctrines
and dogmas should be fully taught. [p177]
These schools seem to have been most useful where they were not
overshadowed by great institutions of learning. In the German countries
that bordered on the Rhine, and more especially in the Netherlands,
where there were no universities, and where the people had a large
measure of personal liberty, we find many evidences of a steady
progress in education,[87] and of improvement in social condition.
The simple teachings of the schools were received by a plain but
utilitarian people who put the knowledge to practical use. The newly
developed mental activity did not run to waste, as it did in the
universities, in unprofitable metaphysical speculations; it was at once
applied to the varied requirements of art, trade and manufactures. When
printing came, the common people were fully prepared for it, prepared
not only to read books, but to make them. The invention was developed
in proper order, and was preceded by improvements in mechanical arts.
As illustrations of this mental activity, it is not out of place
to mention some of the many inventions of the men who had studied
books only to aid them in studying things. We find gunpowder and
fire-arms, glass windows and mirrors, clocks and watches, and numerous
contrivances that add to the comforts of social life, some of which,
like the tinning of iron, and the putting of chimneys to fireplaces,
have seemed too paltry to deserve notice. Trivial as they may seem,
when in contrast with the steam engine and railroad, the chimney and
window were of the highest service as aids in bringing men from a
qualified barbarism to civilization. It cannot be [p178] proved that
these contrivances were invented in Germany, but it is certain that
they were there appreciated and used when they were entirely unknown in
parts of Europe then supposed to be much more enlightened.[88]
The Germans and Flemings were regarded as a boorish people by the more
polished Italians. In the artistic education that can be acquired
only from intimate association with men of genius and works of art,
the Northern people were deficient; but in the knowledge of useful
arts, in originality of invention, in patience and thoroughness as
manufacturers, they were superior. The Germans made linen, glass,
carved wooden-ware, and useful articles of all kinds needed in home
life. In the construction of fine mechanisms, like clocks and curious
automatons, they had no rivals. The Flemings were celebrated as
weavers, cutlers, goldsmiths, armorers, engravers of silver-ware,
and as carvers of wood and stone. They were more than skillful
mechanics.[89] Hubert and John Van Eyck, founders of the Flemish
school of painting, and instructors of eminent Italian artists, may
be regarded as representatives of the practical Flemish character,
for they considered no branch of the arts of design as unworthy their
attention; they painted on glass as well as on wood or canvas; they
illuminated missals, and, as many bibliographers believe, made designs
on wood for the engravers of block-books. [p179]
The steady progress made by the people of Flanders and Germany in
arts and manufactures was largely due to their liberty. They were not
altogether exempt from the bondage of feudalism: there was some discord
in Germany, and never-ceasing strife between the nobles and middle
class, but the German burgher maintained his independence and lived in
comfort.[90] The need of peace and personal liberty as preparations for
the introduction of printing may be more clearly perceived in a glance
at the social condition of the people.
The discontent of common people at their treatment by constituted
authorities was never greater than during the last twenty years of
the fourteenth century. Southern Europe was afflicted by sanguinary
wars, into which the rulers of the people dragged their unwilling
peasantry.[91] Armed bands of [p180] discharged soldiers roamed about,
robbing and murdering at will. Nobles secure in their castles sent out
soldiers to make forays in adjacent districts, with no more pretext
of law than is claimed by pirates. Outside of large cities there was
no safety for life or property. To add to the general misery, famine
desolated the most fruitful countries, and in some districts, the awful
pestilence of the black death swept away half the population. Where
the suffering was greatest, the people rebelled, but to no purpose.
In France, the insurgents of the _Jacquerie_, in 1358, were massacred
with savage ingenuity in cruelty;[92] in England, the Wat Tyler revolt
of 1385 was put down with violence, and the people were remanded to
the old villeinage.[93] In countries where there was no outbreak, a
sullen resentment grew up against all authority, but more especially
against that of the established church. The exactions and scandalous
manners of the superior clergy afforded a sufficient provocation. There
were two popes—one at Rome and one at Avignon; in many dioceses were
rival bishops, holding authority under the rival popes. The heads of
the church were at enmity with each other, and they ruled over God’s
heritage with the weapons and the spirit of temporal princes. The
tribute of money which had been delayed or refused by recusant bishops,
and the tribute of homage which had been denied by excommunicated
kings or emperors, were paid in the misery and blood of the people. In
the prolonged disputes between pope and king, and pope and anti-pope,
the pious and loyal, who had been taught to honor those who were in
authority, were unable to discern which of the two contestants was the
true and which the false pope or bishop. [p181] From the teachings
of each pretender the good turned away. The religious sentiment which
had been shocked at the outrageous behavior of the anointed teachers
forsook the old altars. It sought out new faiths and founded new
sects.[94]
The teachers of the new sects were unwittingly preparing the people for
the coming of printing by enforcing the duty of more careful reading
and study of the Holy Scriptures. In the year 1380, Wickliffe completed
a translation in English of the entire Bible. At the beginning of
the thirteenth century, copies of a translation of the Scriptures
in Provençal French, made by or under the direction of Peter Waldo,
a wealthy merchant of Lyons, and the founder of the Waldenses, were
circulated in Burgundy and upon the borders of the Rhine. There were
many new translations, or at least of the gospels and psalms, in
other European languages.[95] Men and women [p182] gathered together
in secret places to hear them read.[96] The timid and irresolute,
alienated from the church, and deterred from frequenting prohibited
associations, set up altars of the most unpretentious character within
their own houses. Too poor to buy books, and perhaps too ignorant
to read them, they sought from the formschneiders and image-makers
the emblems they needed as visible symbols of their faith. In this
hungering after the instruction or consolation afforded by religious
pictures, we see the origin of the block-books. A growing fondness for
pictures is a marked peculiarity in the intellectual development of
the age. It was not confined to the buyers of printed images: it was
manifested in the paintings on the walls and windows of magnificent
churches, in the pictorial playing cards then in the hands of all
people, gentle and simple, and more than all in the fearful pictures
of the _Dance of Death_ upon the walls of convents, in the arcades of
burying-grounds, and in market-places and town halls. In these hideous
paintings, the saint saw the necessity of preparation for death; the
sinner interpreted them as an assertion of the equality of all men
and the final punishment of the [p184] unjust. In the inexorable
impartiality of the grinning and stalking skeleton who rudely dragged
away the resisting noble and protesting priest, there was a ghastly
irony which was keenly appreciated even by the illiterate.
[Illustration:
The Abbot.
Death despoils the Abbot of his mitre and crozier, and drags him away.
The Abbot resists, and is about to throw his breviary at his adversary.
The Mendicant Friar.
He is about to enter his convent with his money-box and wallet, when
Death seizes him by the cowl, and compels him to leave the world.
The Preacher.
Death, with a stole about his neck, stands behind the Preacher, and
holds a jaw-bone over his head, intimating that he is the more forcible
teacher.
The Knight.
After escaping perils in numerous combats, the Knight ineffectually
resists the onset of Death, and is vanquished by one thrust of the
spear.
Holbein’s Illustrations of the Dance of Death. [From Douce.]]
The signs of awakening intelligence, as manifested in the general
appreciation of pictures, images, playing cards and books, were
entirely disregarded by the authorized teachers of the age, who
could have used the method of xylographic printing by which images
and playing cards were made, and could have led people from the
contemplation of images and allegories of the _Dance of Death_,[97] to
the study of books and letters. They had all the means within reach.
There were engravers and printers in Venice in 1400; there is an
obscure notice of image-cutters or engravers on wood in the records of
the fraternity of St. Luke in Paris[98] for the year 1391. But [p185]
neither the doctors of the universities nor the book-makers of Paris
ever attempted to print books or pictures. Nor can it be shown that any
one of the many persons laboring for the revival of literature at the
beginning of the fifteenth century had anything to do with printing.
The significance of this fact should be fairly considered, for it is
the proper explanation of the curious and childish literature of the
block-books which followed the printed images.
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of the Dance of Death, as shown in
the Nuremberg Chronicle.
[Photographed from Mr. Bruce’s Copy.]]
Early printed work was the outgrowth, not of scholarship, but of
comparative ignorance. The first block-printers were men outside the
pale of literature, and not indebted to any school or scholar for the
suggestion of printing. The first merchantable products of printing
on paper were not books, but playing cards and images. The earliest
purchasers of [p186] printing were men who could neither read nor
write. The card-makers, who labored for the amusement of boyish
tastes, were the ignorant nurses of an art which has preserved the
learning of the world. They have had grand success. The once despised
fabric of paper has displaced vellum; types do the work of reed and
pen, and the work of perpetuating the literature of the world is done
by mechanics.[99] Nor has this great revolution been restricted to
mechanical processes in book-making. Medieval books are more than
out of date: they are dead, beyond all revival. They are known to
book-lovers chiefly by reputation. The writings of Anselm, Dun Scotus,
Abelard, Peter Lombard, Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas and Ockham, are
read only through curiosity; they are as obsolete as the works of the
old Greek philosophers.[100]
Although much had been done to prepare Germany and Flanders for the
reception of printing, one thing was lacking. Printing waited for a
wise appreciation of the utility of paper. For centuries paper had
been regarded as a plebeian writing surface, unfitted for books, but
good enough for shopkeepers, mechanics, and children who had or sought
a smattering of education. It was necessary that the prejudices in
favor of vellum should be uprooted, and that the practical superiority
of paper should be recognized by men of higher authority than
card-printers or poor scholars. This change in fashion was effectually
made by the rich merchants of Flanders and Germany. The paper rejected
of professional book-makers was not so strong nor so attractive as
parchment, but it was flexible, durable, and much cheaper. There was
no legislative intermeddling with its sale[101] as there had been
with parchment. [p187] Everybody was free to buy and use it at his
pleasure. The consequences of this contemptuous abandonment of paper
to the people, who were supposed to be almost unfit to use it, were
unexpected. Those who knew how to read and write found in paper a ready
means of communicating their knowledge. The number of readers grew.
With this increase of readers came also an increase of self-taught
copyists and of unprofessional book-makers. In the commercial
cities, where copyists were not subjected to the censorship of the
universities, the practice of making books became as common as it had
been exclusive. Book-making became a distinct trade, and shops were
established for the sale of alphabets, primers, prayer books, creeds,
and elementary text books for schools, all adapted, both in price
and in subject, to the very humblest readers.[102] The names of some
nooks and corners in London, Paternoster Row, Creed Lane, Amen Corner,
Ave Maria Lane, show that these were the places in that city where
manuscripts of a religious character were largely made and sold.
As the sale of these books and tracts increased, Northern copyists
combined with each other for purposes of mutual protection, after the
usage of all the tradesmen of the middle ages. We find a mention of the
existence of the Company of Stationers of London in 1405. There were
guilds of book-makers at Augsburg in 1418, at Nordlingen in 1428, at
Ulm in 1441, at Antwerp in 1441, at Bruges in 1454. These are the years
in which the guilds were first mentioned; but it is probable they were
incorporated at earlier dates. The [p188] book-making fraternities
of St. Luke, in Venice and in Paris, were constituted of copyists,
calligraphers, illuminators and bookbinders; but the more practical
Northern guilds admitted to membership printers and engravers, and
every worker, however humble his work, who contributed to the making of
a book. But this combination of copyists with engravers and printers
did not at once lead to the printing of books. It did no more than pave
the way for its introduction, by making people familiar with paper
and printing. For a long time the workmanship of the rival arts was
kept distinct; the copyist transcribed books, while the printers made
images. But the time came when the copyist had to ask help from the
printer.
The printing of books began, not as an independent art, but as an aid
to the art of writing. A publisher[103] of London recently described
and offered for sale a curious old book, partly printed and partly
written, which illustrates the close alliance of labor once maintained
between the copyist and the engraver. He describes the book as a folio
of 17 leaves of vellum, on which are printed 69 engravings, twelve of
them bearing legends, “representing scenes of Christian mythology,
figures of patriarchs, saints, devils, and other dignitaries of the
church, all colored and illuminated with oxidized gold, impressed in
the midst of a manuscript text in German.” The engravings of this
book are small, about 3 inches long and 2-1/4 inches broad. They are
enclosed by a double border of black lines, and are printed on the left
side of the page. The designer of the illustrations was obviously an
inexpert, not accustomed to drawing the letters of the inscriptions
in reverse order on the block, for some of the letters are turned the
wrong way. The engravings were printed before the descriptive text was
written. The language of the text, old High German, contains obsolete
words which were out of use before typography was invented. Quaritch
attributes this [p189] book to unknown monks of Southern Germany,
“about the year 1400.” This copy of the _Weekly Meditations_ is a
favorable specimen of the combined workmanship of the copyist and the
printer; but it is not the only one. Copies or fragments of manuscript
books[104] with printed illustrations are in the British Museum, and in
many European libraries.
These specimens of book-making during the period of its transition
from writing to printing, give us some notions of the estimation in
which the process of printing was held by the men who manufactured
chap-books. It does not appear that they made use of printing because
they thought it was a labor-saving process. They used it mainly, if not
entirely, to supplement the deficient skill of the copyist. It was then
as it is now—many could write, but few could draw. If the copyist who
wrote the text had been competent to draw, the pictures would not have
been engraved. Nor would these engravings have been made for one nor
even for one dozen copies. We may properly suppose that enough copies
were printed to justify the expense of engraving.
While it was expedient to engrave the pictures, it was inexpedient to
engrave the text of a book. In many books, the letters constituted the
largest part of the work, and to the engraver it was the more difficult
part—the expense of engraving would more than offset all the advantages
that might have been gained from printing. A full suite of blocks
for the text would cost more than the writing of a hundred copies.
To the stationer who could sell but few books, xylographic printing
was not an economical process: the preliminary cost of engraving was
too great. It would be an extravagant estimate to assume that the
writer of the _Weekly Meditations_ made one hundred copies of this
book; but one [p190] hundred copies would have been an edition much
too small to justify the engraving of its text of seventeen pages. We
must accept this as the reason why printing was so sparingly used by
the early book-makers. They did not engrave blocks and print books,
because there were not enough book-buyers to warrant the expense. This
feature of printing—its entire dependence upon a very large number of
book-buyers—may require a more extended explanation.
The small prices for which all popular modern books and newspapers
are sold lead many into the error that printing is, necessarily and
under all circumstances, a much cheaper method of making books than
that of writing. As compared with writing, presswork, or the operation
of impressing the types on the sheet, is much the quicker and cheaper
process; but presswork is not the main branch of the art of printing.
Before one impression can be taken, or one copy be made, types must be
composed or blocks engraved at very great expense. The composition and
stereotyping of the pages of an ordinary duodecimo book may be worth
six hundred dollars. On an edition of ten copies the cost of such a
book would be, for making plates only, sixty dollars per copy. If there
were but one hundred copies, the expense of the plates would be six
dollars per copy. Under these conditions few books would be published.
But if an edition of one thousand copies should be printed, the cost of
the plates would be only sixty cents a copy. In this instance, printing
would be much cheaper than writing, but this reduced rate would not
necessarily justify the expenses of printing. The risk of sale must
be hazarded. No publisher would undertake at his own risk to print
even one thousand copies,—much less a smaller number,—if he did not
fully believe that the edition could be promptly sold. But the early
book-maker did not have this confident belief in large and speedy sale.
There were, comparatively, few book-buyers, and the publication of a
book by the method of engraving and printing must have seemed very
hazardous speculation. [p191]
It can be clearly seen that the cost of printing a book is in inverse
ratio with the number printed. When the number is small, the cost per
copy is great; when the number is great, the cost per copy is small.
Printing is an economical process only for books of many copies. If
there were not a very great number of book-readers and book-buyers,
printing could not be practised to advantage.
In the fourteenth century this multitude of book-readers had not been
created. One hundred copies would have been considered a great edition,
and the engravers or printers who took such a hazard would have waited
many years for purchasers. Their unwillingness to take an unwise risk
has been often regarded as an evidence, not of their sagacity, but of
their stupidity. There are writers who have taught that the project of
a printed book was a grand conception, not to be imagined by any but a
great inventor—an idea far above the capacity of any printer of playing
cards or images; but the legends in the image prints teach us that the
early engravers knew how to engrave the letters, and that they could
have engraved entire books of letters if they had thought it expedient.
The advantages or disadvantages of engraving books were considered
by them as they would be by publishers of our own time, purely as an
economical question. The early engravers decided that books of letters
could be appreciated, and would be purchased, only by the educated, a
class too small to reward the labor of the engraver. For the making of
books, printing was not regarded as an economical process, and books
were consequently made by the cheaper process of writing.
While it was unprofitable to engrave letters for books, it was
profitable to engrave designs for printed fabrics, images and playing
cards. On work of this character, the relations of cost and sale were
completely reversed. The expenses for engraving one design, one image,
or one suite of cards, was small; but the sale of the work printed from
the blocks was generally very large. Fabrics that could be worn, cards
that [p192] could amuse, and images that would serve as decorations
or as aids to devotion, had attractions for all people, and especially
for the poor and illiterate. Whoever printed merchandise of this nature
could rightfully expect that it would be sold in such large quantities
that the cost of engraving would be inappreciable.
The world was not ready at the beginning of the fifteenth century to
apply its knowledge of printing with ink to the making of books. It was
regarded as too expensive a process. It bided its time, waiting for
more readers and book-buyers, for paper in greater supply and of better
quality, for higher skill on the part of the engravers, printers and
ink-makers. If there were no other evidences than those afforded by the
partly printed and written books, it could be safely assumed that when
the early engravers did begin to print books, they would be, not books
of letters, but books of pictures.
[p193]
XI
Block-Books of Images without Text.
General Appreciation of Pictures . . . Beginning of the Block-Books
. . . Popularity during the Fifteenth Century . . . Neglected
afterward . . . Childish in Character . . . The Bible of the Poor
. . . Its Age as a Manuscript . . . Its Popularity . . . The First
Edition . . . Its Designs and Engravings . . . Explanations of
Fac-similes . . . Description of Printing . . . Not Printed by the
Frotton . . . Anachronisms in Design . . . Dissimilarity of the Copies
. . . Blocks destroyed in 1488 . . . Price of Copies . . . Description
of German Edition of 1470 . . . The Apocalypse . . . Description of
Illustrations . . . Probably of German Origin . . . The Canticles
. . . Description of Fac-simile . . . Its Anachronisms . . . Its
object . . . Quality of Engraving . . . The Story of the Blessed
Virgin . . . Its Object . . . Description of Fac-simile . . . Its
Absurdities . . . Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer . . . Description of
Fac-simile . . . Singular Perversion of the Prayer . . . The Book of
Kings . . . Description and Fac-simile . . . The Grotesque Alphabet
. . . A Mysterious Book . . . The Apostles’ Creed . . . The Eight
Rogueries.
* * * * *
I presume that nothing is in this life more useful to a man than to
acknowledge his Creator, his condition, his own being. Scholars may
learn this from the Scriptures, and the laymen shall be taught by the
books of the laymen, that is by the pictures. Wherefore I have thought
fit, with the help of God, to compile this book for laymen to the
glory of God, and as an instruction for the unlearned, in order that
it may be a lesson both to clerks and to laymen.
_Preface to the Speculum Salutis._
* * * * *
The sumptuary laws of the middle ages, which were made to restrain
common people from imitating the dress and equipage of the nobility,
were not extended to the making of books. The copyist or calligrapher
was at liberty to decorate books according to his own fancy. There was
no occasion for restrictive legislation. The admirable romances and
books of prayer upon which the miniaturist had lavished his talents
were beyond the skill of the vulgar copyist and beyond the means of the
plebeian book-buyer. Only an artist could paint them; only a prince or
patrician could buy them. But these books, although far removed from
the multitude by price and rarity, were not above the capacity of the
ordinary reader. The illiterate man who could find no attraction in a
book of letters would readily acknowledge the charm of the pictures
[p194] in a book like the _Bedford Missal_. In this universal
appreciation of pictures, some of the early engravers of cards and
images saw an opportunity. Men who would not buy books of letters would
buy books of pictures. Books of the latter class were not only sure of
sale, but they could be engraved on blocks at a comparatively small
expense. They could be printed in quantities much more cheaply, and,
above all, with more accuracy and uniformity than they could be drawn
by hand. They could be painted or illuminated by stencil plates, and
made acceptable to men of simple tastes. Here was the beginning of the
block-books.
The term Block-Book is used to define the book printed entirely
from engraved blocks, in contradistinction to the book printed from
movable types. Bibliographers divide the block-books in two distinct
classes: books of pictures without text, in which words descriptive
of the picture are engraved at the foot of the page, or in cartouches
proceeding from the mouths of the principal figures; and books of
pictures with text, in which the explanations of the pictures are given
in the form of a full page of text, which was commonly printed on the
page opposite the picture.
It is admitted by all writers on typography that block-books of both
classes were made before and after the invention of typography. That
they were manufactured in large quantities by many printers, and in
many cities or towns, during the fifteenth century, does not admit
of doubt. It is claimed by one bibliographer that there are eight
editions of the _Ars Moriendi_; by others, that there are six editions
each of the _Bible of the Poor_ and of the _Apocalypse_, and four of
the _Mirror of Man’s Redemption_. In some instances, the so-called
later editions are reprintings, with slight alterations, of the same
blocks that were used for the first edition; in other instances, the
later editions were printed from blocks newly engraved. The number and
variety of the editions are proof that there must have been a very
large demand for the books; the alterations in the engravings are
presumptive evidence of [p195] repairs to blocks badly worn by long
use; the newly engraved blocks are evidently the replacement of a suite
completely worn out; an edition different from the others in design may
be accepted as the work of a rival or competing printer.
The few block-books known in the seventeenth century were regarded
by bibliographers as prejudicial to the claims of contestants for
the honor of the invention of typography. They were annoying facts
which could neither be rejected nor accepted without hurt to favorite
theories. There was a disposition on all sides to belittle them in
number as well as in importance. The first writer who called attention
to their value as relics could describe but nine block-books. Sotheby,
writing about them in 1858, described in the _Principia Typographica_
twenty-one block-books—not different editions of a few books, but
twenty-one distinct works. Even with these additions, the list cannot
be considered complete: it is possible that more will yet be found, but
it is certain that many have been irretrievably lost.
The neglect of the block-books by early librarians seems almost
justifiable when we consider their great inferiority to the typographic
books that followed them. From a literary point of view, they were of
no importance as works of instruction or authority. They were published
during the fifteenth century, but they really belong to the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, during which period most of them were composed.
The legends that explain their illustrations were written in Latin, but
they are adapted to readers in a child-like state of development. It is
not strange that they should have been put aside by the world when it
had outgrown them. Childish as these books are, they are of high value
to those who wish to note the growth of printing. They indicate the
attainments of their authors and readers, and the artistic abilities
of their designers and engravers. They show the quality of the paper,
ink, and workmanship of the period. They prove that the art of printing
from blocks was practised by many persons during the second and third
quarters of the fifteenth century. [p198]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Last Page of the Bible of the Poor.]
THE BIBLIA PAUPERUM, OR BIBLE OF THE POOR.
This is the most famous and the most creditable specimen of the early
block-book.[105] The title, _Bible of the Poor_, seems to have been
used at an early period to distinguish it from the Bible proper, a fair
manuscript copy of which was sold in France, in the year 1460, for five
hundred crowns of gold. The Bible proper, as then made, in two or more
stout folio volumes of fine vellum, was the Bible of the rich; its
epitome, in the shape of the book of forty pages of engravings, about
to be described, was the Bible of the poor.
The author of the _Bible of the Poor_ is unknown, but the designer of
the illustrations was not the writer of the texts that explained the
designs. There are frequent incongruities between the words and the
pictures, which fully show that the author did not always understand
the intent of the artist. It is probable that the illustrations were
made first, and that, in the beginning, the _Bible of the Poor_ was
a book of pictures only.[106] Some German antiquarians say that the
book, in its [p199] original form, was designed and explained by a
monk named Wernher, who was living in 1180, and was famous during his
lifetime both as a painter and a poet. Other German authorities put
the origin of the first manuscript as far back as the ninth century,
attributing the work to Saint Ansgarius, first bishop of Hamburg. It
seems to have been a popular manuscript, for copies written before
the fifteenth century have been found in many old monasteries. These
copies are not alike. Nearly every transcriber has made more or less
alterations and innovations of his own; but the general plan of the
book—the contrasting of apostles with prophets, and of the patriarchs
of the Old Testament with the saints of the Christian Church—has been
preserved in all the copies.
At least four distinct xylographic editions—two in Latin and two in
German—of the _Bible of the Poor_ have been discovered. Three of them
were printed in Germany after the invention of typography.[107] The
edition acknowledged as the first,[108] and supposed to have been
printed before the invention of types, is in Latin, without date,
place, or name of printer. Those who favor the theory of a German
invention of printing say that it was printed in Germany between
the years 1440 and 1460. Those who believe in the priority of Dutch
printing say that it must be regarded as the work of some printer of
Holland. This is the opinion of Berjeau, who republished the book in
fac-simile. He says that the designs for the original editions must
have been made in the Netherlands, probably by Van Eyck, between 1410
and 1420. [p200]
The illustration on the preceding page, which is the exact size of the
original, gives a faithful representation of the last page of the first
edition of this curious book.
Unlike most of the block-books, the _Bible of the Poor_ was designed
with architectural symmetry. An open frame-work divides each page
in nine distinct panels or partitions, five of which are devoted to
pictorial illustrations, and four to their explanation in words. The
three large panels in the middle of the page illustrate historical
subjects drawn from the Bible, of which the central panel is, in
theological phrase, the _type_, and is taken from the New Testament.
The pictures on either side are known as the _antitypes_, and are
oftenest taken from the Old Testament. The texts that explain the
pictures are placed in the corners of the page, or in scrolls near the
figures.
To most readers the explanatory text is undecipherable. The obscurity
is not only that of a dead language: a trained Latin scholar will
always grope and often stumble in attempting to make a translation.
All the letters are carelessly drawn and cut; the words are badly
spaced, and are deformed with abbreviations. These faults appear more
noticeable when the letters are contrasted with the designs. Whoever
designed the figures on the wood drew with the bold and free hand of
an artist who had proper confidence in his ability. Whoever engraved
the figures cut the clean firm line that can be made only by an expert.
But the cutting of the letters, although probably done by the engraver
of the figures, is really barbarous. It is obvious that the designer,
skillful as he was with figures, had no experience in drawing letters,
and that the engraver was equally unsuccessful at a new kind of work.
The text and translation appended are the version of Dr. Horne,
author of the _Introduction to the Study of Bibliography_, who has
corrected the contractions of the original Latin. It is copied from the
_Typographia_ of Hansard.
Each page contains four busts—two at the top, and two lower down;
together with three historical subjects. The two upper busts represent
certain prophets, or other eminent persons, whose names are [p201]
added beneath them. Of the three historical subjects, the _chief
type_, or principal piece, is taken from the New Testament, and
occupies the centre of the page, between the two _antitypes_, or
subordinate subjects, which are allusive to it. The two busts, placed
in the middle of the upper part of the page, represent David and
Isaiah between two texts of the Bible, with brief explanations. The
former of these, on the left of the Prophets, is from the Song of
Solomon, Chapter iv, 7:
‹f›Legitur in Cantico Canticorum, quarto capite, quod sponsus
alloquitur sponsam, et eam sumendo dixit: Tota pulchra es, amica mea,
et macula non est in te. Veni, amica mea, veni, coronabere. Sponsus
verus iste est Christus, qui in assumendo eam sponsam, quæ est anima
sine macula omnis peccati, et introducit eam in requiem æternam; et
coronat cum corona immortalitatis.‹/f›
In the fourth chapter of the Song of Solomon it is read, That the
bridegroom addresses the bride, and receiving her, says, Thou art
all fair, my love, and in thee is no spot. Come, my love; come, thou
shalt be crowned. The real bridegroom is Christ, who, in receiving the
bride, which is the soul without spot of sin, also conducts her to
eternal rest, and crowns her with the crown of immortality.
The second passage, on the right of David and Isaiah, is partly taken
from the Book of Revelation, and runs thus:
‹f›Legitur in Apocalypsi xxiº capite, quod angelus Dei apprehendit
Jhoannem Evangelistam cum esset in Spiritu, et volens sibi ostendere
archana Dei, dixit ad eum, Veni, et ostendam tibi sponsam, uxorem
agni. Angelus loquitur ad omnem generationem ut veniant ad
auscultandum in sponsum, agnum innocentem Christum animas innocentes
coronantem.‹/f›
In the twenty-first chapter of the Revelation it is read, That the
Angel of God took John the Evangelist when he was in the Spirit, and
willing to show him the mysteries of God, said to him, Come, and I
will show thee the bride, the wife of the Lamb. The Angel speaks to
every generation, that they come and hearken to the bridegroom, the
pure Lamb Christ, crowning innocent souls.
Under the bust of David, which is indicated by his name, is a scroll
proceeding from his hand, inscribed:
‹f›Enim tamquam sponsus dominus procedens de thalamo suo.‹/f›
Even as a bridegroom cometh out of his chamber. Ps. XIX, 5.
Beneath the corresponding compartment containing a bust of Isaiah, is
the word _Ysaye_, and also the ordinal number LXI, referring to the
sixty-first chapter of that prophet; and from the hand of the figure
proceeds a label containing:
‹f›Tamquam sponsus decoravit me corona.‹/f›
As a bridegroom, he hath adorned me with a crown. LXI, 10.
Toward the bottom of the plate are two other busts, similar to those at
the top, and which represent the Prophets Ezekiel and [p202] Hosea.
From the figure that occupies the left-hand compartment extends a
scroll, at one end of which is the word _Œzeciel_, with a number
referring to the twenty-fourth chapter; and in the other part are the
words:
‹f›Corona tua capite ligata fiet, et calciamenta in pedibus.‹/f›
Thy tire shall be bound upon thine head, and thy shoes upon thy feet.
XXIV, 17.
The corresponding scroll, attached to the other figure, contains, at
one end, _Ozee_, with a reference to the second chapter; and in the
other part are the words:
‹f›Sponsabo te mihi in sempiternum.‹/f›
I will betroth thee unto me forever. II, 19.
In the central compartment, between the upper and lower busts, is
depicted the Type, or principal subject. It represents the reward of
righteousness in heaven; the designer having introduced the Redeemer
as bestowing the Crown of Life upon one of the elect Spirits. The
antitype, on the left, is the Daughter of Zion crowned by her spouse,
with the following leonine verse underneath:
‹f›Laus anime vere,‹/f›
‹f›Sponsum bene sensit habere.‹/f›
O soul divine! it rightly knew,
To have the spouse was glory true.
The other antitype, on the right, represents an Angel addressing St.
John, having beneath it this verse:
‹f›Sponsus amat sponsam,‹/f›
‹f›Christus nimis et speciosam.‹/f›
And Christ, the bridegroom, far above
Conception, the fair bride doth love.
And in the bottom space is this verse:
Tunc gaudent anime sibi quando
bonum datur omne.
Then souls rejoice with great delight,
When given is the diadem bright.
The first edition of the book contains forty engravings on wood,
printed on one side only of the leaf. The prints face each other;
two pages of illustrations are always followed by two pages of blank
paper. The book was put together in sections of two leaves, a method of
making a book contrary to prevailing usage. Manuscript books of that
period were usually made up in sections of four double leaves, which
were nested together in one section. This deviation from established
usage was, apparently, caused through the error of the engraver, who
cut, on the same block, the two pages which faced each other. It was,
consequently, impossible to nest [p203] the leaves, or make them up in
thick sections. Cracks in the wood block, which have made open seams or
white gaps in the print, and which extend in straight lines over both
pages, show conclusively that two pages were engraved on one block.
The book is without folios or paging figures to guide the reader, and
also without signatures to guide the binder. The proper order of the
pages was made manifest by engraving on each page a letter of the
alphabet. Pages 1 to 20 are marked in alphabetical order from _a_ to
_v;_ pages 21 to 40 have the same letters, but with a dot before and
after each, _.a._ to _.v._
The paper of the fifteen known copies of this edition of the book is
of variable quality. Of itself, this variability is not sufficient
indication that the paper was made by different makers, and printed
at different times, but the different designs of the paper-marks
lead directly to such a conclusion. Some copies have but one kind
of paper-mark; others have two and three kinds; taking all copies
together, there are at least fourteen distinct paper-marks. If each
decided variation of the same design could be considered the mark of a
different maker, the number could be doubled.
That the substance used for these engravings was wood, is clearly
indicated by the occasional feathering or flatting out of border-lines,
which, when crushed, show the fibres of wood in the impression. It
seems that the engravings were cut on flat plates or blocks, that had
been sawed or split on a line parallel with the fibres.
The ink is of a dull or rusty-brown color; on some pages light, and
on others of darker tint, rarely ever of uniform tint on the same
page. It has the appearance of a paste or a thick water color. This
unevenness in color was produced by some imperfect method of inking the
block—possibly by a hard-faced brush which shed color irregularly.
The shining appearance of the backs of the prints, in all places where
the raised lines of the wood-cut have indented the paper, has been
considered as sufficient evidence that the impressions were taken,
not by a press, but by means of a [p204] frotton, or by friction, or
by rubbing in some form or other. One writer of rare simplicity has
hazarded the opinion that the back of the paper, or the frotton, may
have been soaped to facilitate the work. But these methods of printing
books are imaginary and entirely impracticable. The shining appearance
on the back of the paper does not prove that the prints were made by
friction. The gloss could have been produced by any press which gave a
hard impression against a harder surface. It could have been produced
by rubbing or smoothing down with a burnisher the indentations of the
lines on the back of the paper, as is sometimes done by pressmen of
this day when they take too hard an impression. Some copies of the book
show the results of hard impression. Two of the four copies of the
_Bible of the Poor_ in the possession of the British Museum present
lines deeply sunk in the paper, as if they had been printed from a
press. Jackson, a practical engraver on wood, who had large experience
in proving wood-cuts, has unwillingly accepted the unauthorized
tradition of presswork by friction, but he has candidly stated its
difficulties.
“Considering the thickness of the paper on which the block-books are
printed—if I may apply this term to them—and the thin-bodied ink which
has been used, I am at a loss to conceive how the early wood engravers
have contrived to take off their impressions so correctly; for in
all the block-books which I have seen, where friction has evidently
been the means employed to obtain the impression, I have noticed only
two subjects in which the lines appear double in consequence of the
shifting of the paper. From the want of body in the ink, which appears
in the _Apocalypse_ to have been little more than water color, it is
not likely that the paper could be used in a damp state, otherwise
the ink would run or spread; and even if this did not exist, the
paper in a damp state could not have borne the excessive rubbing
which it appears to have received in order to obtain the impression.
Even with such printer’s ink as is used in the present day—which,
being tenacious, renders the paper in taking an impression by means
of friction, much less liable to slip or shift—it would be difficult
to obtain clear impressions on thick paper from blocks the size of
those which form each page of the _Apocalypse_, or the _History of
the Virgin_. ... A block containing only two pages [of the _History
of the Virgin_, a block of smaller size than that used for the [p205]
_Bible of the Poor_] would be about seventeen inches by ten, allowing
for inner margins; and to obtain clear impressions from it by means
of friction, on dry thick paper, and with mere water color ink, would
be a task of such difficulty that I cannot conceive how it could be
performed. No traces of points, by which the paper might be kept
steady on the block, are perceptible; and I unhesitatingly assert,
that no wood engraver of the present day could, by means of friction,
take clear impressions from such a block on equally thick paper, and
using mere distemper, instead of printer’s ink. As the impressions in
the _History of the Virgin_ have unquestionably been taken by means of
friction, it is evident to me that if the blocks were of the size that
Mr. Ottley supposes, the old wood engravers, who did not use a press,
must have resorted to some contrivance to keep the paper steady with
which we are unacquainted.”[109]
This last hypothesis of an imaginary contrivance that kept the
paper steady, is as untenable as the proposition that blocks were
unquestionably printed by friction. The feat which is impossible
now was impossible then. There is nothing in the appearance of the
presswork of the block-books really inconsistent with the theory,
that the books were printed under a rude press which was deficient
in many attachments that are needed by the printer. The peculiar
appearance of the presswork of this and of other block-books will be
most satisfactorily explained by the hypothesis that they were printed
on a press. The hypothesis of printing by friction is a conjecture for
which there is no good authority. It seems to have been invented for a
purpose. If the early chroniclers of printing had not been so anxious
to magnify the merits of the early typographers, and to belittle the
printers of block-books, we should have heard nothing of printing by
friction.
The designs of the first edition have more merit than those of the
earlier manuscript copies—more than those of subsequent editions
printed by imitators. Neither the rudeness of the engravings, nor
the flagrant anachronisms in architecture and in the costumes of the
figures, are gross enough to conceal the ability of the designer, whose
skill in grouping figures is manifest on almost every page. [p206]
The illustrations have merit, but they are in the realistic and
commonplace style of the designers of Germany and of Flanders during
the fifteenth century. The want of ideality is painful. The designer
certainly had no thought of irreverence, but many of the designs are
really ludicrous. Some of the anachronisms are: Gideon arrayed in plate
armor, with medieval helmet and visor and Turkish scimitar; David and
Solomon in rakish, wide-brimmed hats bearing high conical crowns; the
translation of Elijah in a four-wheeled vehicle resembling the modern
farmer’s hay-wagon. Slouched hats, puffed doublets, tight-legged
breeches and pointed shoes are seen in the apparel of the Israelites
who are not represented as priests or soldiers. Some houses have
Italian towers and some have Moorish minarets, but in none of the
pictures is there an exhibition of pointed Gothic architecture. The old
Dutch stair-like gable is often delineated, and so is the round arch
and latticed window of the Flemish house of the fourteenth century.
With all its absurdities, this edition of the _Bible of the Poor_
commanded the respectful attention of great artists like Albert Durer
and Lucas von Leyden, who did not scruple to appropriate many of its
designs.
One of the most puzzling peculiarities of the first edition of the
_Bible of the Poor_ is the dissimilarity of the copies. In some copies
the dissimilarity is in the details of the frame-work; in others, it
is in the foliage of trees, but it is, for the most part, confined to
a few immaterial points. These differences seem to warrant the opinion
stated by Sotheby that there were six distinct editions, each printed
from a separate set of blocks; but this opinion cannot be reasonably
defended. In all important features the copies are alike. The pages
of the so-called different editions have the marks, even in little
blemishes, of impressions from the same block—a uniformity which could
not have been produced if each block had been re-engraved for each
new edition. Why the various copies of the book should be alike in
important, and unlike in minor features, cannot be explained. It has
been suggested that the [p207] dissimilarities are the evidences of
accident and repair; that when the block was injured, it was plugged,
as is frequently done with wood-cuts in our own day, and the newly
inserted plug was re-engraved with a new design. The explanation is
not plausible. The differences generally appear in the same relative
position on every page, and there are too many of them to be attributed
to accident; they seem to have been made for some unknown purpose.
Irregularities of like nature have been noticed in copies of the
typographic books of the fifteenth century which are known to be of the
same edition.
We do not certainly know when and where these blocks were engraved,
but we do know when they were destroyed. Two books, published by Peter
Van Os of Zwoll, in Holland, in 1488 and 1489, contain seventy-seven
engravings on wood which were certainly cut from the blocks that had
been used to print the original edition of the _Bible of the Poor_.
To get the little cuts he needed to illustrate texts of movable type,
Van Os must have partly destroyed the original blocks. In this act of
destruction, we have a fact and a date which give a clue to the origin
of the book. Copies of the first edition in folio form must have been
printed before 1488. At this date, and perhaps for some time before,
the blocks in folio form had no mercantile value; there was no longer
any demand for the book in the neighborhood in which it had been made.
That the country in which this first edition was printed and sold was
Holland, seems probable when we find that the blocks were used for the
last time, and in a mutilated form, in a town of Holland. This opinion
is strengthened by the facts that the _Bible of the Poor_ in folio
form was then, and afterward, a salable book in Germany and in other
countries, but it was not subsequently reprinted in the Netherlands
in any form. The Dutch and Flemish architectural features in the
designs, and the legends which attribute the work to Dutch engravers
and printers, are of themselves unsatisfactory evidences of the origin
of the book; but they cannot be entirely overlooked. They lead to the
conclusion that the book was printed in [p208] Holland, but they do
not fix the date of printing, which may have been as early as the year
1425, or as late as 1450.[110]
The illustration on the following page is a fac-simile, but reduced in
size, of the first page of the edition published in the year 1470, at
Nordlingen, by Walther and Hurning. The panel in the centre of this
fac-simile represents the Annunciation; on the left is the Temptation
of Eve; on the right is Gideon with the Fleece. The busts at the top
are those of Isaiah and David; at the foot, Hezekiah and Jeremiah.
This edition, like the one previously noticed, was printed in rusty
brown ink upon one side of the paper. The adherence of the printers
to a rough method of printing seems strange when we consider that
typographic books, printed with black ink and on both sides of the
paper, were then known and sold in every part of civilized Europe.
Walther and Hurning were, probably, printers of cards and images who
tried to compete with typography.[111] Incompetent to practise the new
art, and unable to make fine books, they made a German translation
of the _Bible of the Poor_, and tried to sell it to German people.
The Nordlingen edition is an obvious imitation of the Latin edition
previously described, but it is a very feeble imitation. The designer
was incompetent to his task, and the engraver was clumsy. The
workmanship of this book is one of many [p210] evidences which might
be offered to prove that coarseness of engraving in undated block-books
is by no means proof of their greater age. The facts point the other
way. The block-books which contain engravings of high merit are, as
a rule, the oldest; those made in the third or fourth quarter of the
fifteenth century show decided decline in skill. Mean as this book
is, it does not fully show the degradation that printing subsequently
suffered from the hands of unskillful engravers.
[Illustration: First Page of the Bible of the Poor as made by Walther
and Hurning of Nordlingen, 1470.
The size of this print, in the original, is 7 by 10-1/8 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
THE APOCALYPSE OF ST. JOHN.
This is the name of an early block-book almost as famous as the _Bible
of the Poor_, and of which there are at least six distinct xylographic
editions. Some of them have fifty, and others have forty-eight
leaves, printed upon one side only of the leaf. The dissimilarities
in the designs and the engraving of these editions are decided and
unmistakable: they are, no doubt, impressions from different suites of
blocks, and each edition may be regarded as the work of a different
printer.
As a literary production, the _Apocalypse_ has small merit. It is
not, as might be supposed, the text or an abridgment of the _Book
of Revelation_. It is, in fact, only a book of pictures, and these
pictures in many points border very closely on the ridiculous. One
cannot shut his eyes to the ludicrous points, but neither can he
overlook the fact that the designs of the book are not the work of an
ignorant artist. Rudely as they have been cut, and badly as they were
printed, there is strong character in the faces, and much artistic
skill in the grouping of the figures. The designs are vigorous, but
they are unlike the works of Van Eyck, or of the German artists of
the period. There is nothing in the costumes or architecture which
can be rated as decidedly German or Dutch. Chatto says the designs
were probably intended to represent Mahomet as the Antichrist of the
_Book of Revelation_, and that they may have been made by an exiled
Byzantine artist who had been driven out of Constantinople after the
taking of that city by the Turks in 1453. But this conjecture is not
[p211] approved by careful bibliographers. It is generally supposed
that the designs are of an earlier period. Maittaire, who says that it
is the oldest[112] of all block-books, calls attention to the singular
simplicity of the engraving, which is in almost plain outline. In this
particular the _Apocalypse_ is much inferior to the _Bible of the
Poor_, for we see no attempt to give appearance of roundness to the
limbs by curved shading lines, nor are there proper marks to indicate
the shadows and folds in a dress. But the ruder workmanship of the
engraver is more clearly shown in the letters. It may be that they
were badly drawn upon the block, but it is plain that the engraver has
frequently broken connecting lines. Bad presswork and bad ink have
materially aggravated the fault; as printed, the lines of the engraver
appear thicker than they were cut.
Each page has two illustrations with explanatory legends. Some of these
illustrations represent the visions of St. John, but the designer has
drawn them with the same disregard of time and place which may be
noticed in the wood-cuts of the _Bible of the Poor._ The architecture
is that of Germany in the fourteenth century; the men wear breeches and
coats, conical, flat-topped and broad-brimmed hats; the soldiers are in
chain or in plate armor, with the helmets and battle-axes of the middle
ages. Nor do the improprieties stop here: many of the illustrations
represent events in the life of the apostle which the artist did not
find in the _New Testament._
The illustration on page 213, which is a reduced copy of the first page
in one edition of the _Apocalypse_, seems to have been derived from the
fabulous life of St. John, supposed to have been written by Abdias,
bishop of Babylon. Drusiana, a [p212] married lady of Ephesus, and one
of the many converts of St. John, is an important personage in this
fabulous life and in the illustration annexed. In the upper picture,
St. John is represented as preaching to a magnate, whose robe or mantle
is held by two attendants. Drusiana stands behind them. This picture is
described in the legend:
‹f›Conversi ab idolis per predicacionem beati Johannis Drusiana et
cetera.‹/f›
Through the preaching of St. John, I have turned from idols Drusiana
and others.
In the lower picture, St. John is represented as baptizing Drusiana in
the Christian temple of Ephesus. Drusiana is judiciously abbreviated
to suit the size of the baptismal font. Six armed men are before the
barred door, endeavoring, by violence, to gain entrance, or to witness
the ceremony. The picture is explained by the words:
‹f›Sts Johannes baptisans Drusiana.‹/f›
‹f›Cultores ydolorum explorantes facta ejus.‹/f›
St. John baptizing Drusiana.
The worshipers of idols watching his [St. John’s] proceedings.
The edition of the _Apocalypse_ named by Heineken as the first was
planned by a practical book-maker, and was made up in sections of eight
double leaves. The first and last pages of each section were probably
engraved together on one block. They were certainly printed together by
the following plan:
1—16 3—14 5—12 7—10
2—15 4—13 6—11 8—9
Page 1 was engraved on the right, and page 16 on the left end of the
block. Page 2 was on the left, and 15 on the right. This alternation
was maintained on all sheets of the section.[113] The printed sheets,
1, 3, 5 and 7 were folded with the printed work on the inside; while
sheets 2, 4, 6 and 8 were folded with the printed work on the outside.
When the sheets were properly collected, two printed pages faced each
other, and were followed by two pages of blanks. This method of making
[p214] up the book must have given the printer and the binder a great
deal of trouble, but it was an efficient method, and the only one that
should have been employed.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the First Page of the Apocalypse.
Engraving in the original print is 7-7/8 by 10-1/3 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
In most editions of the book, the ink is of the same rusty brown color
that has been observed in the _Bible of the Poor_. In some copies it is
almost gray; in others, nearly black. The first edition has engravings
of the greatest merit, but it is badly printed. The paper-mark is a
bunch of grapes, similar in design to that of a print in the collection
of M. Weigel, entitled _The Adoration of the Three Kings_, which,
it is claimed, was printed about the year 1425. But paper-marks are
misleading evidences. We do not certainly know the date nor the country
in which any edition of the book was printed. German bibliographers
say that it was printed in Southern Germany; Dutch bibliographers say
that it was printed in the Netherlands, probably by Coster of Haarlem;
but all evidences that have been adduced to establish a certain date
for the earlier editions of the book, or to prove that they were done
at any time or by any printer, are unsatisfactory. Some copies of the
book are interleaved with manuscript explanations, which are sometimes
in the Dutch, and sometimes in the German language. The greater part
of the copies have been found in Germany, and it is the opinion of the
most eminent bibliographers that the first edition of the book, and
most of the editions, were printed in Germany.
The catalogue of the library of Dr. Kloss contains the following note
under the specification of a ragged copy of the _Apocalypse_: “At the
end of this volume is a short note, written by Pope Martin V, who
occupied the papal chair from 1417 to 1431.” This indirect attestation
to the age of the book has never been considered as trustworthy.
Another copy of the book, known as the Spencer copy, is bound up with a
copy of the _Bible of the Poor_, and has on the binding an inscription
to this effect: “Bound in the year of our Lord 1467 by me, John
Reichenbach, in Gyllingen.” The inscription is undoubtedly authentic.
[p215]
Dibdin[114] alludes to an English clergyman who said that he was once
the owner of one copy each of the _Apocalypse_, the _Bible of the
Poor_, and the _Ars Moriendi_, all bound in one volume, on the cover of
which was stamped an inscription certifying that “this volume was bound
for the curate of the church in 142—.” The last figure the clergyman
had forgotten, but he was sure that the book was in its original
binding, and that it must have been bound, and consequently printed,
before 1430. The testimony is unsatisfactory.
THE CANTICLES.
This is a block-book[115] of sixteen pages, of small folio size. It is
one of the few block-books which may be unhesitatingly pronounced as
of Netherlandish origin. In general appearance it closely resembles
the books previously noticed. The impressions are in brown ink, and on
one side of the sheet; there are two illustrations on each page, and
the two printed pages face each other; the explanations of the designs
are in Latin, and are engraved in scrolls that surround the figures.
According to some bibliographers, there are three editions of the book;
according to others, the trifling variations which have been seized
upon to justify the existence of a second and a third edition are only
alterations or repairs that have been sustained by the original block.
One edition contains at the head of the first page an engraved line, in
the low Dutch or Flemish language, which may be translated thus: “This
is the Prefiguration of Mary, the Mother of God, which, in Latin, is
called _The Canticles_.” Explanatory titles in block-books, and even
in the earlier typographic books, are unusual. For this reason the
genuineness of the inscription has been challenged, but it has been
generally accepted as a true part of the original block. [p216]
The illustration opposite is the fac-simile, reduced in size, of the
first page of the _Canticles_. The design is imperfectly explained by
the legends in the engraving.
‹f›Osculetur me osculo oris sui; quia Let him kiss me with the
meliora sunt ubera tua vino.‹/f› kisses of his mouth, for thy
love is better than wine.
‹f›Veni in hortum meum, soror mea sponsa I am come into my garden, my
messui myrrham meum cum aromatibus sister, my spouse: I have
meis.‹/f› gathered my myrrh with my
spice.
‹f›Caput tuum ut Carmelus; collum tuum Thine head is like Carmel;
sicut turris eburnea.‹/f› thy neck is like a tower of
ivory.
‹f›Nigra sum, sed formosa, filiæ I am black but comely, O ye
Jerusalem, sicut tabernacula cedar, daughters of Jerusalem; As
sicut pelles Solomonis.‹/f› the tents of Kedar, as the
curtains of Solomon.
The agriculturists of the upper illustration are in monastic habits:
some are cutting and threshing grain; one is pounding the grain in a
mortar and another is grinding it in a hand mill. In the open little
house before the monk with a pestle, is a desk with two books. In this
combination of agricultural work with the emblem or suggestion of
study, Harzen sees an illustration of the daily work of the Brethren of
the Life-in-Common, to whom he attributes the engraving and printing
of this book. The brethren of this order were eminent as students and
copyists of books, and had some distinction in the last quarter of the
fifteenth century as printers, but their connection with this book
cannot be established.[116]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the First Page of the Canticles.
Engraving in the original print is 7-1/4 by 10-1/2 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
The words at the top of one of the cuts are not the only Dutch feature
in the book: the style of design is that of the Netherlandish school
of art. The blocks have been drawn and engraved with much more care
than those of the _Apocalypse_, or the _Bible of the Poor_. There is
more of grace in the attitudes and draperies of the female figures of
the _Canticles_, and less of that gross and unimaginative treatment of
sacred personages which borders both on the ludicrous and the profane.
But [p218] the designer of the book presents the oriental love story
to his readers with Dutch accessories. The bride of the Song of Solomon
wanders about the streets of a city supposed to be Jerusalem, but
the dwellings have high-peaked roofs, Dutch gables, and overhanging
upper stories; she is assaulted by an armed and helmeted cavalier who
carries on his shield the heraldic black eagle of some unknown German
potentate; the pope, two cardinals and a bishop, with drawn swords in
their hands and shields on their arms, look with great composure over
Gothic battlements on the assault below. Writers who are skilled in
heraldry say that there is a peculiar significance in the presentation
of the devices and the arms on shields which are found in many places
in the book. Some German authors see in these devices the arms of the
German Empire, of Wittemburg and of minor German principalities. Those
who believe that the book was printed in the Netherlands, see in the
shields the arms of Burgundy, of Alsace, and of Flemish towns and
cities. From these trivial evidences, the conclusion has been drawn by
one class of partisans that the designer must have been a German, and,
by another class, that he must have been a Hollander.[117] [p219]
The engraved letters of this book are much more legible than those of
the _Apocalypse_ or the _Bible of the Poor_. The Dutch final _t_ is
frequently introduced. The paper-marks most frequently observed are the
unicorn, the bull’s head, and the letter P; but no information of value
can be derived from the paper-marks, and but little from the designs
and engravings.
Although we do not know whether the _Canticles_ was printed in the
second or third quarter of the fifteenth century, it may be admitted
that it was printed in the Netherlands. We see the last trace of the
blocks in the hands of the same printer who destroyed the engravings of
the _Bible of the Poor_. A book, bearing the imprint of Peter Van Os,
of Zwoll, 1494, has for its frontispiece the upper half of the first
plate.
THE STORY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN.
This is the bibliographic title[118] of a block-book which may be
offered as a proper specimen of the popular religious literature of the
fifteenth century. Sotheby mentions four distinct editions of the work.
The one that has been most frequently described (whether first or last,
is not known) consists of sixteen leaves, with four illustrations on
each leaf, and a brief explanatory text in Latin. The designs have no
artistic merit; the engraving is coarse, and evidently the work of a
novice; the letters are legible, but they betray great inexperience in
the use of the graver, and they do not, in any feature, resemble those
of the block-books previously described. Some of them have mannerisms
like those of Gutenberg’s Bible. It is possible that the letters of
one edition of the book are those of movable types, or that they were
engraved on wood from a transfer taken from an impression of movable
types. In all editions the letters have German peculiarities, but
there is no edition which has the appearance of a first experiment in
[p220] printing. It is probable that all the editions were printed in
Germany, and after the invention of typography.
The edition from which the annexed illustration was taken was roughly
printed on one side of the paper, but in a very black ink. In other
editions, which were printed from entirely different blocks, differing
both in the size of the block and in the positions of the figures, the
ink is of the customary rusty brown. The copy in black is supposed to
have been printed on a press, and at a later date.
The object of the book is to show the reasonableness of the story of
the Incarnation, and to defend the dogma of the Immaculate Conception.
The bad taste of the author is more signally shown in the text than
in the pictures. Arguments in support of the dogma are wrested from
sacred history and heathen mythology, and the writings of the fathers
of the church. The book is a curious compend of piety and unconscious
irreverence, of high scholarship and gross stupidity, as will be more
clearly shown by the following translation of the legends that explain
the pictures on the opposite page.
_Temple of Venus, with a man _A man gazing at water that
gazing at a lamp._ If the reflects the moon._ If
light at the temple of Venus Seleucus in Persia finds
cannot be extinguished, why [reflected] light from
should not the Virgin generate the moon, why should not
without the seed of Venus? the Virgin, pregnant by a
_Augustine de Civitate Dei_, beautiful star, generate?
XXI, 7. _Augustine de Civitate Dei_,
XX, 6.
_Two Human Figures and a _Two men sawing a stone on
Statue._ If a human being can which appear two human heads._
be changed into stone, why, by If man can be painted on
divine power, should not the stone by the power of heaven,
Virgin generate? _Albertus de why should not the Virgin
Minoralium_, I, _in generate by the assistance of
fine_. the Holy Spirit? _Albertus
de Minoralium_, II, I.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a page of the Story of the Blessed Virgin.
Engraving in the original print is 7-3/8 by 10-1/2 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
The book begins with representations of St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, St.
Gregory and St. Augustine. St. Ambrose, who is duly quoted from his
_Hexameron_, book II, chapter 41, assigns reasons for the Immaculate
Conception, by illogical reference to a bird without a mate. St.
Augustine, who is represented as seated at a table, reading from his
work, _De Mirabilibus_, book III, chapter 12, asserts the Immaculate
Conception because many animals are produced without mating. St.
Jerome and [p222] St. Gregory expound the same doctrine. Fifty-four
illustrations follow, each explained by a proposition that enunciates
with great formality some of the marvels of natural science. We are
told of bees without fathers, of birds impregnated by the bill, of
geese born from trees, of asbestos that burns forever, of pearls made
fruitful by the dew, of the phœnix restored by fire, and of many other
absurdities. The authorities cited seem to have been selected with
a truly catholic spirit: we find among them Valerius Maximus, Peter
Comestor, Terence, Boethius, Job, Livy, and Isidore.
One edition of this work contains an imprint in sprawling and almost
unreadable characters, which bibliographers interpret as the letters
F. W. 1470. The letters F. W. were no doubt the initials of Frederich
Walther of Nordlingen.
The quality of the science taught in this _History of the Blessed
Virgin_ enables us to form a just idea of the real value of the
scholastic philosophy then regarded as the perfection of wisdom. The
silly speculations set forth in the book were the husks upon which a
devout people were fed.
AN EXERCISE ON THE LORD’S PRAYER.
This is the translated title of a thin block-book of ten leaves, which
was intended to explain the Lord’s Prayer by illustration. The blocks
are printed in brown ink on one side of the paper. The _Exercise_ is in
the popular form of dialogue.
In the illustration No. 1, the monk _Frater_ begs the angel _Oratio_
to teach him the Lord’s Prayer. And these are the lessons that are
taught:
2. _Our Father who art in Heaven._ Christ, the Monk, and the Angel
kneel.
3. _Hallowed be thy name._ The Monk, the Angel, Christ, and the Church
represented by a female figure, are kneeling. On the right the Virgin
and Holy Child.
4. _Thy kingdom come._ A representation of Purgatory: in the upper
part, the wicked surrounded by flames; in the lower part, Jews and
Pagans in the fiery lake.
5. _Thy will be done._ The Almighty in the clouds, and before him the
Angel and the Monk kneeling. On the right, a good Christian and an
Angel. In the centre, two bad men who are rejecting the Eucharist. In
the foreground, the Jews and Pagans throw down the cup and are pouring
out its contents.
_Scroll in No. 5._ Frater and Oratio kneeling before God. ‹f›Fiat
voluntas tua sicut in cœlo et in terra.‹/f› Let Thy will be done in
Heaven as on earth. . . . _The Angel to the right._ ‹f›Qui stat videat
ne cadat.‹/f› Let him who may stand take heed lest he fall . . . _The
Good Christian._ [p223] ‹f›Gratia Dei sum id quod sum.‹/f› Thanks to
God that I am what I am. . . . _The Jews._ ‹f›Quis est Jesus filius
fabri?‹/f› Who is Jesus but the son of the carpenter? _The Pagans._
‹f›Quis noster dominus est?‹/f› Who is our Lord? . . . . _The Bad
Christians._ ‹f›Ducamus in bonis dies nostros.‹/f› We guide ourselves
to salvation.
6. _Give us this day our daily bread._ In the centre, three loaves
of bread on a table, around which is Charity, robed as a queen, with
three other figures. On one side the Monk and Angel kneeling; on the
other, a Knight in armor.
7. _Forgive us our trespasses._ Christ standing on the altar, the
blood pouring from his side in a basin, from which several persons
fill their cups.
8. _Lead us not into temptation._ The disobedient, proud, gluttonous
and avaricious surround a table. Death carries away the foremost.
9. _Deliver us from evil._ A representation of Hell. The disobedient
man in the power of the Devil. The damned making supplication to the
Almighty.
10. _Amen._ A view of Paradise, with the happiness of the blessed.
[p224]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Fifth Illustration of the Exercise on
the Lord’s Prayer.
Engraving in the original print is 7-1/8 by 7-1/2 American inches.
[From Holtrop.]]
Santander says that the book bears all the marks of the highest
antiquity. Holtrop says that there is one copy of this work in which
the Latin text is translated, and explained by engraved lines in
Flemish at the bottom of each cut. Guichard describes a series of
engravings on wood, consisting of eight designs like those just
described, with a manuscript text in Flemish. It is, without doubt,
a Flemish book. Of the many extraordinary commentaries which have
been made on the _Lord’s Prayer_, this, surely, is the most singular
perversion. The prayer which begins with a recognition of the
brotherhood of mankind, which tells us to believe in the all-embracing
love of the Father, which teaches lessons of dependence, forgiveness
and protection, is made the text for a denunciation of Jews and Pagans,
and for the teaching of doctrinal notions about the Eucharist.
THE BOOK OF KINGS.
In this book, two separate illustrations, with their explanatory
text, are printed together on each page. The _Book of Kings_ might,
therefore, be classified among the block-books without separate pages
of text, but it really has a text of unusual length for a book of this
class. In other features, it resembles the block-books previously
described; its twenty pages are printed on one side of the leaf; the
illustrations face each other, and are in the customary brown ink.
The designs are rudely drawn, and are as full of anachronisms in
architecture as the illustrations of the _Bible of the Poor_, but the
architecture most frequently shown is in the pointed Gothic style. The
engraving is coarse; every object is cut in bold and heavy outline;
tints and shading lines are timidly used, and always in a crude manner.
It was obviously intended that the illustrations should be developed by
painting or by stenciling. The letters are drawn and engraved with more
care than the pictures, but they are irregular in size and form. One
of the peculiarities of the lettering is the final cross given to the
small letter _t_, a peculiarity which is frequently [p226] noticed
in some of the typographic work of Dutch printers. The leaves were not
nested in sections one within another as was customary: each sheet of
two leaves was engraved, printed and folded separately, so as to make a
book of ten sections.
[Illustration: An Illustration from the Book of Kings.
Original is 7 by 8-3/4 inches.
[From Sotheby.]]
The book was intended to illustrate the more important events of the
life of David as recorded in the books of _Samuel_, and in the _First_
and _Second Books of Kings_. The fac-simile on the preceding page
illustrates Hannah presenting Samuel to the priests in the house of the
Lord, and Samuel called by the Lord out of sleep. Sotheby classifies
it with the block-books of Holland, but Falkenstein attributes it to
Germany.
THE GROTESQUE ALPHABET.
This is a curious block-book of twenty-four pages, of the original
edition of which not one perfect copy is known. The leaves of the copy
now on the shelves of the British Museum are 3-3/4 inches wide and 6
inches high. Sotheby, who has carefully examined its construction, says
that the twenty-four pages were printed in sections of eight pages on
three sheets of paper, with a thin watery ink of a sepia tint. The
margins and blanks have been written on with an ink of nearly the same
color as that of the printed cuts.
Another copy of this work has been found at Basle, in which, on the
letter A (not found in the London copy), may be seen the date 1464.
Another copy, in a library at Dresden, has the same date. Renouvier
says that these copies, by German engravers, and of inferior execution,
are transfers of the original, which was engraved in the Netherlands.
The history of the book in the British Museum is unknown, but it has
many evidences of long use in English hands. The cover or binding
consists of a double fold of thick parchment, upon the inside of which,
between the folds, is written in large English characters, “Edwardus
Lowes.” On one side of the last leaf is the rough draft of a letter in
the English language. The writing, which is found in scraps all over
the book, is of [p227] the period of Henry VIII. Upon a sword-blade in
the cut of the letter L is written in small characters the word London.
In another place in the same cut are letters which are read by some as
_Westmistre_—by others as _Bethemsted_. It is full of English writing,
but it has not been proved that the cuts are the work of an English
engraver. Chatto says of them:
[Illustration: Letter K of Grotesque Alphabet.
Original is 3-1/2 by 4-5/8 inches.
[From Holtrop.]]
——They were neither designed nor engraved by the artists who designed
and engraved the cuts in the _Apocalypse_, the _History of the Virgin_
and the _Poor Preachers’ Bible_. . . . With respect to drawing,
engraving and expression, the cuts of the _Alphabet_ are decidedly
superior to those of every block-book, and generally to all wood
engravings executed before the year 1500, with the exception of such
as are by Albert Durer, and those contained in the _Hypnerotomachia_,
printed by Aldus at Venice in 1499. . . . I perceive nothing in them
to induce me to suppose that they were the work of a Dutch artist; and
I am as little inclined to ascribe them to a German. The style of the
drawing is not unlike what we see in illuminated French manuscripts
of the middle of the fifteenth century; and as the only two engraved
words which occur in the volume are in French, I am rather inclined to
suppose that the artist who made the designs was a native of France.
The costume of the female to whom the words are addressed appears
to be French; and the action of the lover kneeling seems almost
characteristic of the nation. No Dutchman [p228] certainly ever
addressed his mistress with such an air. He holds what appears to be a
ring as gracefully as a modern Frenchman holds a snuff-box, and upon
the scroll before him are engraved a heart, and the words which he may
be supposed to utter: _Mon ame_—My soul.[119]
The real object of this book is not apparent. The figures were not
engraved for the purpose of teaching the alphabet, for the designs are
quaint, elaborate, and above the comprehension of young children. When
the book was first made, the letters had a significance which seems to
have been forgotten.
THE APOSTLES’ CREED.
[Illustration: A Page from the Apostles’ Creed.
Original is 5-3/8 by 8-1/8 inches.
[From Dibdin.]]
This is the title given to a lost block-book, of which only seven
leaves remain. The annexed illustration is a reduced fac-simile of
the page that tells the story of the Resurrection. The four angels
about the circle are sounding the last trump, and the dead are coming
forth from their graves. The figures in the lower corners are those of
Zacharias and Judas. In this book, and in nearly all the block-books,
the subjects most frequently presented are those that illustrate the
marvelous and terrible. The designs have merit, but the letters are
badly engraved. The pictures are explained by a few lines in German.
The [p229] copy of the book described by Dibdin has on the fly-leaf
the written memorandum V. W. 1471, but it is not probable that this
writing has any reference to the date of printing.
THE EIGHT ROGUERIES.
[Illustration: A Page from the Eight Rogueries.
Original is 4 by 5-3/8 inches.
[From Falkenstein.]]
This is a small block-book of eight leaves. Weigel places it among
the earliest specimens of engraving on wood. The language in which
the pictures are explained is High German. The pictures illustrate
the Go-between, the Liar, the Cheat, the Counterfeit Goldsmith, the
Cheating Merchant, the Church Robber, the Cheating Rope-maker, the
Blacksmith that sells iron for steel. The designs are rude, but they
are full of spirit and character, and the cutting of the figures
has been done with ability and intelligence. The paper was printed
on one side only and in dull brown ink. This book was found in the
neglected library of an old South German monastery, in the heart of
the neighborhood in which we find the earliest notices of printers
and painters of images. As it is the only block-book of a decidedly
non-religious character, it may be ascribed to some maker of playing
cards, who practised the art of engraving before it was placed under
the control of the Church.
[p230]
XII
Block-Books of Images with Text.
The Antichrist, with Fac-simile . . . How to Remember the Evangelists,
with Fac-simile . . . How to Die Becomingly, with Fac-simile . . .
Other Editions of this Work . . . Chiromancy of Doctor Hartleib, with
Fac-simile . . . German Planetarium and Calendar, with Fac-simile
. . . Wonders of Rome, with Fac-simile . . . Pomerium Spirituale,
with Fac-simile . . . Temptations of the Devil, with Fac-simile . . .
Life of St. Meinrat, with Fac-simile . . . Dance of Death, with
Fac-simile . . . Mechanical Peculiarities of the Block-Books . . . All
of Religious Character . . . Made for Priests, but seen by the People
. . . Not Adapted to the Needs of the People . . . The Period of the
Block-Books . . . Made in Germany and the Netherlands . . . Dates and
Printers of the Books Unknown . . . Probably Made in the First Quarter
of the Fifteenth Century . . . An Established Business before the
Invention of Typography.
* * * * *
This, that is written in this little book, ought the priests to learn
and teach to their parishes: and it is also necessary for simple
priests that understand not the Scriptures, and it is made for simple
people . . . . by cause that for to hear examples stirreth and moveth
the people that ben simple more to devotion than great authority of
science.
_Caxton’s Preface to the Doctrinal of Sapyence._
* * * * *
Der Endkrist, or the Antichrist. This book seems to have been written
to warn men against the snares of heresy. Two distinct editions are
known; each was printed from a different suite of blocks and by a
different printer. The copy about to be described has thirty-eight
leaves, twenty-six of which are devoted to the life of Antichrist, and
eleven to a separate treatise known as the _Fifteen Signs_, which was
bound up with the _Antichrist_, and of which it seems to be the proper
sequel. The book is printed on one side of the leaf, in brown ink, and
the illustrations face each other. The text begins with the words,
“Here beginneth of Antichrist, taken and drawn out of many books, how
and of whom he [p231] shall be born.” After a half-page wood-cut,
which represents with needless grossness the birth of Antichrist,
follow other engravings illustrating the more notable events of his
life.[120] The fac-simile on the following page gives a correct notion
of the lawlessness of the designs[121] of the book. It is obvious that
they were not made by the artist who drew the illustrations for the
_Bible of the Poor_ or for the _Canticles_. The text which explains the
wood-cuts is in the German language, but it is in a very careless form
of German writing. [p233]
[Illustration: Fac-simile, reduced, of a Page of the Antichrist.
[From Heineken.]]
The thirty-eight leaves of one edition are made up in one section. This
bungling method of making up a book is sufficient evidence that the
printer or engraver who placed these pages together had no education in
practical book-making. But the bad method shown in the plan does not
prove that the book is of great age. The copy under notice contains,
in the German language, the imprint of _Junghannis, priffmaler_, or
painter of cards, Nuremberg, 1472. Whether this Junghannis was the
designer, printer or engraver is not known.
HOW TO REMEMBER THE EVANGELISTS.
This block-book[122] was, no doubt, intended for men, but a modern
observer would say that it had been made for children. The time-honored
method, still used for the child’s alphabet, A was an apple, is the
method of the _Ars Memorandi_. Compared with the block-books previously
noticed, it is a book of high merit. It is a thin folio of thirty
pages, fifteen of which contain a text of very large, clumsily drawn
and compactly arranged letters within a rule-bordered frame; the
remaining fifteen pages have full-page illustrations. The edition from
which the annexed illustration was copied is in brown ink.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a Page of the Ars Memorandi.
Engraving in the original print is 6-3/4 by 9-1/4 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
The designs are more eccentric than those of any known block-book,
but the designer has shown no artistic ability in the grouping of his
figures. The four Evangelists are symbolized—St. John by an eagle,
St. Matthew by an angel, St. Luke by a bull, St. Mark by a lion—but
they are presented to us in uncouth attitudes, and are surrounded or
overlaid by some of the familiar objects frequently mentioned in the
Gospels. These objects are numbered with Arabic figures referring to
explanations in the text. The dove, for it must be so considered,
although it looks like an owl, perched on the head of the symbolized
St. John, may be accepted as the emblem of the Deity. The two heads
beside the eagle are to be understood as those of Moses and of Christ.
The musical instruments, a lute and three bells, on the breast of
the eagle, indicate the contents [p235] of the second chapter,
the marriage at Cana. The fish recalls the pool of Bethesda. The
numeral 3 points to the conversation with Nicodemus; the water-bucket
and the crown refer to the woman of Samaria at the well; the five
loaves and the two small fishes to the feeding of the multitude. The
cross in the circle is the consecrated wafer of the Roman Catholic
Church. The letters in the pages of text are unusually large; they
are clearly cut, but are so compactly arranged that they frequently
interfere with each other. The descriptive text is in Latin, but of
very objectionable grammar and orthography. The knowledge it conveys
of the Gospel is imperfect to the last degree, as may be more clearly
seen in the following literal translation of the text provided for this
illustration.
The Gospel of St. John has twenty-one chapters. _First Chapter._ In
the beginning was the Word, from the eternity of the Word and the
Trinity. _Second Chapter._ Nuptials were made in Cana of Galilee, and
how Christ overturned the tables of all the money-changers. _Third
Chapter._ But there was a man among the Pharisees named Nicodemus.
_Fourth Chapter._ How Jesus asked the Samaritan woman to give him to
drink near the well of Jacob, and about the law. _Fifth Chapter._
About the miracle in the fish pool, when Jesus told the lame man, Take
up thy bed and walk. _Sixth Chapter._ About the feeding with five
loaves and two fishes, and about the Eucharist.
The _Ars Memorandi_ is considered by Schelhorn as one of the oldest of
block-books, “if not the first, among the first.” Von Aretin says that
“it is worthy of observation that this book, one of the earliest of its
kind, should be devoted to the improvement of the memory, when it was
to be rendered of little consequence by the art of printing.”
HOW TO DIE BECOMINGLY.[123]
At least ten distinct xylographic editions of this popular block-book
have been identified, seven of which are in Latin and three in German.
The text of the book is substantially the same in all editions, but the
designs are dissimilar, and the engraving and printing are of unequal
merit. Some copies are in black and others in brown ink; some are
printed on [p236] one side and others on both sides of the paper. The
origin of the book is not known, but it was a popular work long after
types had been invented; before the year 1500, it had been printed
either from types or from blocks, in Nuremberg, Paris, Rome, Florence,
Verona, Lyons, Utrecht, Delft and Zwoll.
The edition about to be described, which Heineken names as the fourth,
is a folio of twenty-four leaves. It is printed in brown ink, on
one side, with printed pages facing each other. Eleven pages have
illustrations, and thirteen pages are given to the text. The book is
made up in workmanlike manner, in four sections of six leaves. The
illustrations are crowded; the figures are grouped inartistically; the
engraving is coarse.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a Page of the Ars Moriendi.
Engraving in the original print is 6-1/2 by 8-3/4 American inches.
[From Heineken.]]
The object of the book is to present the temptations that beset the
dying. The first illustration represents the dying man as tempted by
devils concerning his faith. The next illustration shows the good
angels who enable him to remain steadfast. In like manner he is
tempted by devils to despair, to impatience (in which the moribund is
vigorously kicking an attendant), to vainglory, and to avarice; but
through help of the angels, he triumphs over all his adversaries. The
ninth illustration, which is reproduced on the following page, shows
the dying man as resisting the last assaults of three emissaries of
the devil. The vigorous action of these hideous goblins is in marked
contrast with the composure of the relatives, who stand at a respectful
distance. The horse and hostler show that the man on the death-bed
was rich. The moral of the design is the vanity of riches. One of
the devils, the one at the head of the bed, maliciously suggests,
_Provideas amicis_—you should provide for your friends. Another devil,
pointing to the house, calls out with grim irony—_Intende thesauro_—pay
attention to your treasures. This illustration is followed by another
in which a ministering angel exhorts the dying man to discard the
devil’s advice, and not leave his property to his relatives, but to
give it to the church. In the last illustration, the spirit of the
dying man exhales from his mouth in the shape of a manikin, which is
received by the angels. The [p238] baffled devils make some frightful
contortions and then depart. It is not a pleasant book. But the
hideousness of the devils in the illustrations is not so revolting as
the craftiness of the author who devised these ghastly scarecrows. The
ostensible purpose of the book was the preparation of men for another
world; its real object was the aggrandizement of the church, and for
this purpose the writer of the book recommended the sacrifice of the
desire to provide for one’s family. It does not increase our respect
for the piety or intelligence of the people to learn that this book was
popular for more than a century.
The xylographic editions of this work which contain the names of the
printers are in the German language. One of them has these words,
_Hans Sporer_, 1473; another has the imprint of _J. W. Presbrm_, of
Nuremberg; another is dated Leipsic, 1496. One of the typographic
editions, dated 1473, is attributed to John Gensberg, of Rome; another,
dated 1478, bears the imprint of Ratdolt, of Venice. An edition with
a typographic text was printed in 1488 by Peter Van Os, of Zwoll, the
same printer who last owned the blocks of the _Bible of the Poor_. In
this edition the words in the scrolls are in the Flemish language, and
the text is in Latin. The use of Flemish in the engraved blocks seems
to warrant the belief that there must have been an earlier edition,
entirely xylographic, but no such edition has been discovered.
THE CHIROMANCY OF DOCTOR HARTLIEB.
This is a folio of fifty-two pages, badly printed, in dark gray ink, on
both sides of the paper. The designs are puerile and the engraving is
coarse. The text of the book is in the German language. Some copies of
the book contain at the foot of one page and outside of the border the
name
‹f›jorg ſchapff zu augſpurg‹/f›
Other copies of the book have, in the same position, the name ‹f›irog
ſcapff zu augſpurg‹/f›. The spelling is different, [p239] and the
shapes of the letters are different. No satisfactory explanation can
be offered for these differences in books that are supposed to be
printed from the same blocks. It may be that the name, inserted in a
very exposed place, broke down under impression, and was carelessly
re-engraved. This variation is a specimen of some of the perplexing
changes to be found not only in block-books but even in early
typographic books. The name is usually read as George Schapff, of
Augsburg, who is supposed to have been the engraver and printer of the
book in 1448. The workmanship is not to his credit: Chatto says “more
wretched cuts were never chiseled out by a printer’s apprentice as a
head-piece to a half-penny ballad.”
The matter is worthy of the manner. The book professes to teach the
science of palmistry, or the telling of fortunes by wrinkles in the
palm of the hand. The first page contains the title, in large letters,
over a piece of ornamental border and lattice-work. The page that
follows contains this dedication:
“The hereinafter written Book of the Hand was made German by Doctor
Hartlieb, through the Prayer and Bidding of the serene high-born
Princess Dame Anna, _née_ Brunswick, and Wife of the virtuous, blessed
Prince, Duke Albert, Duke of Bavaria and Count of Voburg. This has
come to pass on the Friday after the Conception of Mary, the most
glorious Virgin. 1448.”
The language is not clear: the date here given may be that of the
translation, or of the engraving, or of the printing. The rudeness of
design and engraving might lead an ordinary observer to the conclusion
that the book was printed at an earlier date than 1448; but the
insertion of a separate title-page, the printing of the pages on both
sides of the paper, and the method of gathering the book in sections
of eight leaves, teach us that the book should have been printed at a
later date, when these improvements were in general use.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a part of a Page of the Chiromancy of
Doctor Hartlieb.
[From Heineken.]]
Doctor Hartlieb apprises his readers that he foretells the destiny of
man by his right, and that of woman by her left hand. For this purpose
he furnishes, on as many pages, forty-four large illustrations of the
human hand, each covered with [p241] mystical characters, that are
almost illegible by reason of bad printing. The illustration annexed,
which is the first in the book, is intended to represent events that
happen to people who have certain marks upon the palms of their hands.
At one end of the picture are hanging and murder; at the other end, a
kind deity is showering gold on the head of a bewildered peasant.
The childish book is an illustration of the intelligence of the
ordinary reader of the period. It may be that the restrictive phrase,
ordinary reader, is not warranted, for Doctor John Hartlieb was
probably an honored graduate from a medieval university, and the
Princess Anna, no doubt, was more carefully educated than the ladies
of her court. Chiromancy was considered a science. Adrien Sicler
dedicated a book on this subject to Camille de Neuf-Ville, Archbishop
of Lyons and Primate of France. Books on chiromancy were printed at
Lyons in 1492, at Strasburg in 1534, and at Bologna in 1504. The church
tolerated the books of palmistry which did not interfere with the
doctrine of moral responsibility, and which did not teach astrology or
magic arts.
GERMAN PLANETARIUM AND CALENDAR.
[Illustration: An Illustration from the Calendar of John of Gamundia.
[From Berjeau.]]
These are two distinct works, which were often printed and bound
together. The _Planetarium_, which is in German, describes, through
a text in rhyme and by engraved illustrations, the influence of the
planets on the destinies of mankind. The _Calendar_, which is in Latin,
occupies but four pages, and contains at the end of the month of
February the inscription, _Magister Johannes Gamundia_.[124] On another
page is found the [p242] date 1468. There is a copy of the German
_Planetarium_ in the British Museum which contains only twelve printed
pages. Berjeau describes it as a small quarto, and says, that although
it is printed on both sides of the paper, it presents the appearance of
impression by the frotton. The fac-simile illustration that is given
underneath represents the influences of the planet Mercury. The artist
before the easel is painting a Madonna; his servant is mixing colors
with a muller; in the middle of the print is an organ-maker; to the
right is a copyist; at his back are two gourmands; in the foreground
is a sculptor at work on a statue; to the left is a goldsmith before
his anvil. The descriptions of these works that have been given by the
early German bibliographers are not clear. They represent the book
as consisting of twenty-six pages printed on one [p243] side of the
sheet, with the blank pages pasted together. The size of the page, the
color of the ink, and the method used in gathering the sheets are not
stated. It seems that there were at least two editions of each work,
one in German and one in Latin, and that portions of the different
editions were sometimes bound up in one book. Von der Hagen says that
the first page of the copy examined by him contained an imperfect
impression of one of the pages of the _Antichrist_.
THE WONDERS OF ROME.
[Illustration: A Page from the Wonders of Rome.
Original is 3-1/4 by 5-5/8 inches.
[From Sotheby.]]
This small quarto of one hundred and eighty-four engraved pages
is an example of patience in obscure letter-cutting that is more
characteristic of China than of Europe. The text is in German, and is
fairly printed in black ink on both sides of the paper. The book is
enlivened by a few illustrations which have small merit as designs.
The _Wonders of Rome_ is an ecclesiastic’s description of the more
important shrines of the holy city, with their consecrated relics. The
first page of the book contains an engraving of the handkerchief of
Saint Veronica, which, according to the legend, was placed on the face
of Christ to wipe away the blood that dripped from the crown [p244] of
thorns, and received therefrom the impress of his features. Under this
design the papal arms and the triple crown, the crossed keys, and the
letters S. P. Q. R. The arms of the pope are those of Pope Sixtus IV,
who occupied the papal chair from 1471 to 1484, within which period it
is supposed that the book was engraved and published for German readers.
POMERIUM SPIRITUALE, OR SPIRITUAL NURSERY.
[Illustration: An Illustration from the Pomerium Spirituale.
Original is 4-7/8 by 5 inches.
[From Holtrop.]]
The rightful place of this work is among the manuscripts that are
partly written and partly printed, for its pictures were engraved and
its text was written. The book contains [p245] twenty-six leaves of
small folio, made up in one section. At the beginning of each of its
twelve written chapters is the impression of an engraving on wood. The
date 1440 is found in two of the engravings. The only known copy of
this book is held by the Royal Library of Brussels. It is a curious
circumstance that this copy, possibly in its original binding, which
contains a printed date earlier than that of any other block-book,
should also contain two printed leaves of the _Bible of the Poor_.
Holtrop says that the book was composed by Henry Bogaert, canon of a
monastery near Brussels, who was born in 1382 and died in 1469. He was
the author of many small religious books, of which the _Exercise on
the Lord’s Prayer_ is one. The illustrations of this book and of the
_Pomerium Spirituale_ were probably made at the same time and by the
same engraver.
THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE DEVIL.
[Illustration: A Fragment of the Temptations of the Devil.
Original is 10 inches wide.
[From Koning.]]
This is not a book, but a print on a single sheet eleven inches
wide and sixteen inches high. It differs from the image prints in
the pettiness of its cuts and the abundance of its text, for which
reason it may properly be described among the block-books with text.
The nature of the work is clearly set forth in the preface, _The
Temptations of the Devil, as he tempteth men to the Seven Mortal Sins_.
The Devil, who, with a claw-hook in his hand, stands in the corner to
the left, has beneath him the list of these seven sins. The tempted
man is [p246] the monk near the centre of the print, who supplicates
the aid of the angel, who hastens to his rescue. Below the angel are
appropriate quotations from the Scriptures, which show that this print
is but a medieval paraphrase of the story of Christ tempted by the
Devil, as related by St. Matthew. It was engraved and printed in the
form of a placard, that it might be fastened against a wall for the
contemplation of the devout. The illustration shows only a portion
of the upper part of this curious print, of which the British Museum
has the only known copy. It is supposed to have been printed in the
Netherlands.
THE LIFE OF ST. MEINRAT.
[Illustration: A Page from the Life of St. Meinrat.
Original is 3-1/8 by 5-7/8 inches.
[From Dibdin.]]
This book, which has an introduction of two pages in German, and
forty-eight pages of illustrations, with brief descriptions below the
pictures, tells the story of two bad men who murdered St. Meinrat, and
who were immediately thereafter pursued by two crows. The illustration
here presented represents the murderers on their way to execution,
accompanied by the unrelenting crows. On the pages that follow are
engravings of the murderers suffering under torture; it is shown how
they were dragged at the heels of horses, and were broken and burnt on
the wheel. The moral [p247] of this story is unmistakable: it is an
awful crime to kill an ecclesiastic. The publication of so large a book
to enforce so plain a truism is an intimation that some of the laity
needed forcible illustrations of the danger of abusing the clergy.
THE DANCE OF DEATH.
[Illustration: A Page from the Heidelberg Dance of Death.
Original is 5-1/2 by 8-1/4 inches.
[From Dibdin.]]
Of this block-book of twenty-seven large pages, only two copies are
known; one of them, which is in the Heidelberg library, is entirely
xylographic, with a text in German; the other copy, in a Munich
library, has also a text in German, but it is in manuscript. For each
edition a different suite of blocks was used. Nothing is known about
the printer of either book, nor about the date of its execution. The
designs are really meritorious, and the engraving is obviously the
work of a man who had experience in his art, but the merit of the work
has been overshadowed by the superior designs of Holbein and the more
masterly engravings of Lutzelberger. The characters or personages in
this block-book are the same as those in the famous painting once at
Basle.
* * * * *
These descriptions of the more famous block-books may be sufficient to
show their paltriness from a literary point of view, and their rudeness
as specimens of printing, but the [p248] books described are not
enough in number to give us a correct notion of the activity of the
early block-printers. It is probable that many books have been lost
and forgotten; but we have, however, enough to warrant the belief that
block-printing was an industry of some repute even as early as 1430.
One mechanical peculiarity of the block-books deserves a specific
notice: all the block-books were printed on paper. The printers soon
discovered that vellum was an intractable material, and they preferred
paper as much for its convenience as for its cheapness. An apparent
dislike of black ink is equally noticeable; the color in different
books varies from a blackish gray to a dingy brown. But their most
characteristic feature is the method of printing upon one side of
the sheet. One chronicler says that the leaves were so printed that
the blank sides might be pasted together. That this is not the true
reason is apparent when we discover that very few of the books have
pasted leaves. It is more reasonable to suppose that the earlier
block-printers could not print on both sides of the paper. It is plain
that they could not produce a neat impression even on one side—could
not regulate the force of the impression, which was so harsh and
violent that it sometimes spread the ink, and deeply indented the
paper. As the margins are uneven, we have to infer that the printers
could not place the sheets with uniform accuracy upon the blocks.
Consequently, they could not print in register, and place the second
page truly on the back of the first. Some authorities say that the
paper was printed dry, but this is only a conjecture, made to suit the
theory of printing by the frotton. The paper must have been dampened,
for it was very thick, and as strong and as coarse as modern manila
wrapping; it could not have been legibly printed until it had been
softened.
With few exceptions, the block-books are of a religious character; but
the religion taught is dogmatic and doctrinal more than devotional.
We may safely assume that they were written by ecclesiastics in
high station for the instruction of the ignorant monks, mendicant
friars, and “unable curates.” [p249] Illiterate priests, to whom
the descriptions or the legends of the pictures had been read, must
have understood their historical and spiritual meaning, and must have
found the pictures an aid to the memory, and suggestive of topics for
preaching. Although made for priests, they were not beyond the reach
of the people. As far back as the twelfth century, an English abbot
sternly forbade, under penalty of excommunication, the lending of any
books, “neither the large books with pictures, nor the small books
without pictures.” But the mandate was disregarded. Sooner or later,
the books found their way to the hands of laymen, whose ignorance
of Latin did not prevent them from admiring the pictures; and this
admiration must have inspired many a reader with the desire to learn
the strange language and to own the coveted book.
The _Life of St. Meinrat_ is the only book which seems to have been
written especially for the people. There are two, the _Antichrist_ and
the _Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer_, which were, apparently, written
to furnish suggestions to preachers against heresy. There was need for
books of this character. The church was fermenting with dissent; a very
large portion of the people had abandoned the old faith, and there was
a general complaint among all priests that the churches were neglected.
To recover this lost allegiance, and as an antidote to infidelity and
heresy,[125] the church gave its assent to the circulation of image
prints and block-books among the laity.
The poverty of the spiritual diet prepared for men who hungered for
instruction and who leaned to heresy cannot be passed by without
notice. It is strange that, in an age of [p250] growing disbelief,
nothing was written for the people which can now be considered as of
importance. We look in vain over the earlier block-books for a copy, in
any language that the common people could read, of a book containing
appropriate selections from the Scriptures. The _Lord’s Prayer_ was
published but once, published in Latin, and strangely perverted from
its true purpose. The _Ten Commandments_, in block-book form, were
printed in German, but not before the last quarter of the sixteenth
century. We find no selections from the _Psalms_ or _Evangelists_.
The stories of the _Bible_, always with a Latin text, were obviously
prepared, not to teach lessons of piety to the people, but to instruct
the priests in the mysteries of dogmatic theology. All are orthodox:
there is no block-book that has the slightest taint of heresy.
It does not appear that any of these block-books were made by monks.
The block-printers of a later period were laymen, and men of no note,
and it seems probable that the earlier books, without names, places or
dates, were also made by laymen, by the printers of cards and images.
It is possible that they were made at the instance, and perhaps under
the direction, of the ecclesiastics. But we find no evidences that they
were printed in monasteries; the lazy habits and coarse tastes of the
monks, and their general avoidance of every form of mechanical labor as
beneath their sacred calling, make this conjecture inadmissible.[126]
The literary merit of the block-books was small, and their shabby
mechanical execution made them contemptible. To readers accustomed
to handle great books of tinted vellum, admirably written in letters
that are yet as sharp and legible as modern types, these miserable
little pamphlets on dingy paper, and with muddy letters, scarcely
deserved the name of books. By the educated readers of the fifteenth
century they [p251] were rated as literary rubbish. Professors in the
universities looked on them with the same contemptuous spirit which men
of letters afterward manifested toward early newspapers. The attempts
of early printers to furnish these poor substitutes for books to common
people, so far from receiving any encouragement from scholars, met
with their disdainful neglect. There were, indeed, a few praiseworthy
exceptions, but the scholarship of the middle ages took sides with
rank, in upholding all the conventional distinctions of society. They
wished illiterate people to understand that books were the right of the
educated only.[127]
The period in which block-books were printed cannot be fixed within
exact limits. They did not go out of fashion when types were invented:
the illustrated block-book _Opera Nova Contemplativa_, the Italian
adaptation of the _Bible of the Poor_, was printed in Venice about
1512; but block-books of inferior merit were made after this date.
Berjeau describes one, the _Innocentia Victrix_, probably engraved in
China at the order of the Jesuits, which was printed in 1671. But these
books are really the last specimens of a dying art; in the sixteenth
century, they were practically obsolete. The period of their greatest
popularity may be fixed between the years [p252] 1440 and 1475.
As we approach the latter date, we find block-books containing the
names and places of the printers. We see that they were made at Ulm,
Nuremberg, and Augsburg,—the towns which have the earliest records of
manufacturers of playing cards,—in the district in which old image
prints like the _St. Christopher_ have been oftenest discovered. It
is probable that block-books were printed in Southern Germany at or
near the time when the _St. Christopher_ was printed, but we have no
positive proof that any block-book was printed in 1423. The German book
with earliest printed date is the _Chiromancy_, but its date of 1448 is
not certainly the date of printing.
The evidences in favor of an early practice of block-book printing in
the Netherlands are, in some features, even more incomplete. No early
Dutch or Flemish block-book reveals the name of its printer. There are
not many notices in old Flemish town-books concerning card-makers, or
printers or painters of images. Yet there was, without doubt, an early
practice of block-printing in the Netherlands. The Dutch traditions
about early printing are more circumstantial than those of Germany; the
_Brussels Print_ dated 1418 is older by five years than the print of
_St. Christopher_; the date of 1440 as printed in the wood-cuts of the
_Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer_ is eight years earlier than the date of
the _Chiromancy_.
The books themselves do not tell us, neither directly nor indirectly,
whether they were first printed in Flanders or in Germany. They have
been critically examined by many able men, but the unbiased reader
will not fail to note that most inquirers have found only what they
wanted to find. To the German critic, all the early block-books are
German; to the Dutch critic, they are surely Dutch. To recite the
arguments advanced by partisans, or even to state the facts wrested
to the support of the arguments, would provide a tedious task for the
reader. Nor would the fullest presentation of the facts lead to certain
knowledge. The language oftenest found in the block-books is Latin, the
language of the Church and of [p253] scholars in all countries during
the middle ages, and it gives us no clue to the place where they were
printed. The paper-marks have been carefully scrutinized, in the hope
that they would reveal the manufacture of the paper at some date or
in some place, but reasonings made from paper-marks are now regarded
as uncertain and of no practical value. We learn nothing through the
study of the shapes or fashion of the engraved letters, for German-like
characters have been found in block-books known to be Dutch, and
peculiarities supposed to be Dutch have been found in German books. Nor
can we glean anything of real value from a critical examination of the
designs, which could have been copied from manuscripts, or drawn in one
country and printed in another.
The only mechanical feature which leads to positive conclusions as to
age is the manner in which they were printed. The books printed in
black ink and on both sides of the paper were certainly printed after
the invention of typography, and by typographic apparatus. The books in
brown ink and on one side of the paper are of an earlier period. There
is a peculiar rudeness about the books in brown ink which is not to
be found in typographic work, a rudeness which we know began with the
makers of cards or printers of images. If we consider, as we must, that
the block-books are only collections of image prints, which were put
in the form of books as soon as paper became cheap and popular, we may
conclude with confidence that they could have been made, and probably
were made, in the first quarter of the fifteenth century.
The great popularity of the block-books even after 1450, when types had
been invented, proves that the business of making them was then firmly
established, and that it was not checked by the superior advantages
offered by types. It is obvious that the block-printers of 1450 had
long practice in the older method, that they were firmly attached to
it, and would not abandon it in favor of the new invention. Their
preference for the older method of xylography is very plainly shown by
the numerous editions of the _Donatus_.
[p254]
XIII
The Donatus, or Boy’s Latin Grammar.
A Very Old Book . . . A Favorite with the Early Xylographers . . .
Frequently Printed . . . Scarcity of Fragments . . . Printed by
Typographic Process . . . Printed before and after Invention of
Typography . . . Testimony of the Cologne Chronicle . . . Of Accursius
. . . Of Scaliger . . . Of Sweinheim and Pannartz . . . Fac-simile of
a German Donatus . . . Of a Dutch Donatus . . . The Arrangement of
Words in the Donatus . . . Obscurity of the Letters . . . Fac-simile
of a Dutch Horarium . . . Xylographic Editions are Imitations of
Typographic Editions . . . Irregularities of Engraved Letters . . .
The Donatus a Relic of the Past . . . Shows the Retrogressive
Tendencies of the Teachers of the Period . . . The Pettiness of all
Block-Books . . . An Evidence of the Limitations of Xylography.
* * * * *
Although the art of printing, as has been said, was discovered at
Mentz, in the manner as it is now generally used, yet the first
prefiguration was found in Holland, in the Donatuses which were
printed there before that time. And from these Donatuses the beginning
of the art was taken.
_Cologne Chronicle of 1499._
* * * * *
The only block-book without pictures of which we have any knowledge
is the _Donatus_,[128] or _Boy’s Latin Grammar_. It received its name
from its author, Ælius Donatus, a Roman grammarian of the fourth
century, and one of the instructors of St. Jerome. The block-book is
but an abridgment of the old grammar: as it was usually printed in the
form of a thin quarto, it could, with propriety, be classified among
primers rather than with books. When printed in the largest letters,
it occupied but thirty-four pages; when letters of small size were
used, it was compressed within nine pages. As the most popular of small
works, and one constantly needed in every [p255] preparatory school,
it met the conditions then required by the early publisher: it could
be engraved at little cost, and the printed copies could be sold in
very large quantities. How many xylographic editions of the book were
printed has never been ascertained, but we are led to believe that
the number was large when we learn that more than fifty editions were
printed from types before the year 1500.
Fragments of the xylographic _Donatus_ are scarce, and they are, for
the most part, in a shabby condition. Many of them are the remnants of
badly printed leaves which were rejected as spoiled by the printer. If
it had not been for the frugal habits of the binders, who used them
as stiffeners in the covers of books, we should have few specimens of
this book. These waste leaves were put to this use because they were
printed on parchment and had more strength than paper. And here we have
to notice a remarkable difference between the block-books of images and
the xylographic _Donatus_.
All the block-books are printed on paper, and the greater part are
printed on one side of the sheet in brown ink. All copies of the
xylographic _Donatus_ are printed on parchment, on both sides of the
leaf, and in black ink. Parchment was, no doubt, selected to adapt the
book to the hard usage it would receive from careless school-boys,
but the method of printing in black ink and on both sides is the
typographic method, which was not in use, so far as we can learn,
before the middle of the fifteenth century. We have to conclude that
all copies of the _Donatus_ printed in this manner were printed after
the invention of types. The most trustworthy authorities say that there
is no known fragment of an engraved _Donatus_ that can be attributed to
the first half of the fifteenth century.
In the manufacture of this grammar, the block-book printers competed
successfully with type-printers for many years. But typography improved
while xylography declined; at the end of the fifteenth century, the
copies made from type were decidedly superior. The engraved copies of
the book were gradually cast aside as rubbish, for they contained no
pictures, [p256] and had no features to justify their preservation. We
cannot wonder that copies of the engraved _Donatus_ are scarce, but we
must not infer from their present scarcity that they were not common
before the year 1450. It is probable that more copies were printed of
this than of any pictorial block-book; although we find no copies, we
have trustworthy evidences that the _Donatus_ was printed before types
were made.
That the _Donatus_ was engraved and printed before the invention of
typography is distinctly stated in the book now known as the _Cologne
Chronicle_, which was published in that city by John Koelhoff, in the
year 1499. The name of the author is unknown, but he writes with the
confidence of a clear-minded thinker and a candid chronicler. He says
that the following statement was communicated to him, by word of mouth,
“by Master Ulric Zell, of Hanau, now a printer in Cologne, through whom
the art was brought to Cologne.”
Although the art [of printing], as has been said, was discovered
at Mentz, in the manner as it is now generally used, yet the first
prefiguration was found in Holland, in the _Donatuses_ which were
printed there before that time. From these _Donatuses_ the beginning
of the said art was taken, and it was invented in a manner much more
masterly and subtle than this, and became more and more ingenious.[129]
Mariangelus Accursius, a learned Italian of the fifteenth century,
made a similar acknowledgment of the indebtedness of the men whom he
regarded as the inventors of typography to the unknown printers of the
_Donatus_ in Holland. He says:
John Fust, a citizen of Mentz, and the maternal grandfather of John
Schœffer, was the first who devised the art of printing with types
from brass, which he subsequently invented in lead. Peter Schœffer,
his son, added many improvements to the art. The _Donatus_ and
_Confessionalia_ were printed first of all, in the year 1450. But the
suggestion [of typography] was certainly made by the _Donatuses_ that
had been printed before in Holland, from wooden blocks.
This extract first appeared in an _Appendix to the Library of the
Vatican_, which was written by Angelo Rocca, and [p257] published at
Rome in 1591. Rocca says that this statement is in the handwriting of
Mariangelus Accursius, who affixed his name to it. On this page it
is not necessary to point out the many errors of Accursius about the
origin of the invention at Mentz; it is enough to show that he believed
that the _Donatus_ was printed in Holland before types were made in
Germany. It is not known, however, whether he acquired this information
from the _Cologne Chronicle_ or from another source.
Joseph Justus Scaliger, an eminent scholar of the sixteenth century,
says that printing was invented in Holland, and that the first
block-book with text was a breviary or manual of devotion. It seems
that this book was like the _Horarium_, of which a fac-simile will be
shown on an advanced page.
Printing was invented at Dordrecht, by engraving on blocks, and the
letters were run together as in writing. My grandmother had a psalter
printed after this fashion with a cover two fingers thick. Inside of
this cover was a little recess in which was placed a little crucifix
of silver. The first book that was printed was a breviary or manual,
and one would have thought that it had been written by hand. It
belonged to the grandmother of Julius Cæsar Scaliger. A little dog
destroyed it, much to his vexation, for the letters were conjoined,
and had been printed from a block of wood, upon which the letters were
so engraved that they could be used for this book and for no other.
Afterward was invented a method of using the letters separately.
This record is of interest for its specification of Dordrecht
in Holland as the birthplace of block-books, but it does not
give any date, nor the name of the first printer. As it has not
been corroborated by the testimony of any other chronicler, it
is now regarded by the historians of typography as imperfect
evidence—incorrect, probably, in its assertion of the priority of
the breviary, but trustworthy so far as it shows that this learned
antiquarian had some really valuable evidences concerning a very early
practice of block-printing in Holland.
Sweinheym and Pannartz, the German printers, who introduced typography
in Rome, and published more books than they could sell, in the year
1472 petitioned Pope Sixtus IV [p258] for relief. In the catalogue
accompanying their petition they describe this _Donatus_ as the
“Donatus for Boys, from which we have taken the beginning of printing.”
Their language is not clear, for it may be interpreted as the first
book printed by Sweinheym and Pannartz, or as the first book made by
the art of printing.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of part of a Block of the Donatus in the
National Library at Paris.
[From Lacroix.]]
The National Library at Paris has two very old xylographic blocks[130]
of this book, which some bibliographers suppose were made about the
middle of the fifteenth century. The letters on these blocks were more
carefully drawn and sharply engraved than the letters of any known
block-book. The wood is worm-eaten, but the letters are neat and clear,
and do not show any evidences of wear from impression.
One of these blocks has been attributed to John Gutenberg, for its
letters resemble those of the _Mazarin Bible_. It [p259] has been
conjectured that this block may have been one of Gutenberg’s earlier
experiments in printing. Apart from the similarity of the characters,
there is no warrant for this conjecture. This similarity is entirely
insufficient as evidence; it is not even proof of age. The block was
probably engraved during the last quarter of the fifteenth century.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Fragment of an early Donatus.
[From Koning.]]
Koning, author of a treatise on early printing in Holland, has given
in his book the fac-simile, which is here copied, of a fragment of a
leaf from a xylographic _Donatus_. It was taken from the cover of a
book printed by Gerard Leeu, of Antwerp, in 1490. Koning says that
the fashion of the letters in this book is like that of letters in
the manuscripts of Holland during the fifteenth century, and that
they closely resemble the engraved letters of one edition of the
_Ars Moriendi_. Holtrop gives a fac-simile of the entire page of a
xylographic _Donatus_ with similar letters, which he claims as a piece
of early Dutch printing.
The arrangement of words in Koning’s fac-simile of this fragment cannot
be passed by without notice. The words are more readable than those
of many block-books, but I have reset a small portion in modern type,
that they might be more clearly contrasted with the modern method of
composition. The words that do not appear in the mutilated fragment
given by Koning are restored from the perfect copy of Holtrop.
THE OLD METHOD.
‹f›Lego legis legit. & plr legim’‹/f›
‹f›legitis legu’t Ptito ipfco legeba’‹/f›
‹f›legebas legebat, & plrlegebam’‹/f›
‹f›legebatis legeba’t‹/f›
THE MODERN METHOD.
Present Tense. Imperfect Tense.
_Singular._ _Plural._ _Singular._ _Plural._
Lego, Legimus, Legebam, Legebamus
Legis, Legitis, Legebas, Legebatis,
Legit, Legunt, Legebat, Legebant. [p260]
This fac-simile gives an imperfect notion of the abbreviations, the
blackness and obscurity of a page of the _Donatus_, but it is a fair
specimen of the forbidding appearance of all the printed work of the
fifteenth century. The illustration of the modern method of arranging
the same letters shows the superior perspicuity of modern types and
of modern typographic method. Not every reader of this age has a just
idea of the extent of his obligation to what may be called the minor
improvements of typography. It may be safely said that many men owe
much of their scholastic knowledge to the systematic arrangement and
the inviting appearance of modern types and books. The school-boy who
glances over this fac-simile will quickly see the depth of the quagmire
from which he has been delivered by the invention of types.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of an early Dutch Horarium.
[From Koning.]]
To support his theory that this fragment of the _Donatus_ is but a part
of one of the many copies of the book which were printed in Holland
before the invention of typography, Koning submits the fac-simile of a
page from an old _Horarium_, or manual of devotion, which was copied by
him from the original block. He says that this block once belonged to
Adrien Rooman, a Haarlem printer of the seventeenth century, who had
received it from one of the descendants of Coster. That Coster engraved
or printed this block is highly improbable, but it is, without doubt, a
[p261] very old piece of engraving. It can be fairly attributed to the
fifteenth century, but no good evidence has been adduced to show that
it was made before the invention of types. The block is practically
worn out: the letters have been so flattened by impression that many of
them are illegible.
It must here be noticed that the letters of this _Horarium_ do not
interlock, as they do in many of the block-books. A ruled line drawn
between the printed lines will show only a few and unimportant
interferences of letters. This evenness in lining, which is properly
regarded as one of the peculiarities of typography, seems out of place
in an early block-book. But it is not confined to the _Horarium_.
There are copies of the xylographic _Donatus_ that closely resemble
typographic editions of the same period. They agree, line with line,
page with page, and almost letter for letter, with the typographic
model. That these xylographic copies were made from the engraved
transfers of some typographic model is proved not only by the
uniformity and parallelism of the letters, but by the square outline to
the right of every page. These peculiarities are never produced in the
workmanship of men who draw letters on a block.
It is not strange that the block-book printers should have imitated the
work and the mannerisms of the typographers. It was easier to transfer
the letters than to draw them; easier to cut the letters for a book
of twenty or thirty pages than to cut the punches, make the moulds,
and cast and compose the types. The blocks having been engraved, the
block-printer had the superior advantage. His blocks, like modern
stereotype plates, were always ready for use. He could print a large
or small edition at pleasure. And what was of much more importance,
he could print more legibly from his smooth plates of wood than the
amateur typographer could from his uneven surface of lead.
The significance of the fact that letters were engraved by
block-printers after typographic models will be more plainly seen when
we examine the editions of the _Speculum Salutis_, [p262] a book which
has been claimed by Dutch historians as the first production of the
newly invented art of typography.
The irregular manner in which all the early xylographers drew and
engraved letters on the block is fairly shown in this fac-simile of
the imprint of Conrad Dinckmut, of Ulm, who affixed it to a _Donatus_
printed by him in 1480. It will be seen that parallel lines ruled
between the printed lines would interfere with almost every ascending
or descending letter.
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of the Imprint of Conrad Dinckmut.
[From De la Borde.]]
The _Donatus_ clearly shows the retrogressive tendencies of the
teachers of that age. It was originally written for scholars who spoke
in Latin, and who, when the book was first placed in their hands, knew
the meaning of almost every word. In the fifteenth century Latin was
a dead language, but the book that had been written a thousand years
before received no modification adapting it to the capacities of the
German or Dutch boys, to whom Latin was as strange as Chinese.[131]
The [p263] rules and the explanations, as well as the text, were in
Latin. The boy who began to study the book was compelled to translate
the words and rules before he knew the simplest elements of the
language. The difficulty of the task will be understood if we imagine
an American boy beginning the study of German, not with a German
grammar in which the explanations are in English, but with the grammar
that is now used in the schools of Germany. We find no trace of any
other school-book in the form of a block-book. There was no other
book of equal popularity. To the scholar of the middle ages there was
no science that could be compared with Latin; there was no knowledge
like that of the words of the dead language. Words were held of more
value than facts. The teachers of the fifteenth century clung to this
obsolete book, and compelled their pupils to go through the same barren
course of study that had been used in the fifth century. In this fixed
purpose we see something more than the force of habit: there was a
general unwillingness to make the acquisition of knowledge in any way
attractive.
The limitations of xylography are plainly set forth in this review of
the more famous block-books. During the first half of the fifteenth
century, labor was cheap, skill in engraving was not rare, paper was in
abundant supply, the art of block-printing was known all over civilized
Europe, and there was a growing demand for printed work, but this rude
art of block-printing was limited to the production of pictures. It was
never applied to the production of books of size or merit. The _Wonders
of Rome_, with its text of one hundred and sixty-eight pages, is its
most ambitious attempt; but large as this work may seem when it is put
in contrast with other block-books, it is really insignificant when
compared with the works of the first typographers.
[p264]
XIV
The Speculum Salutis, or the Mirror of Salvation.
Its Popularity as a Manuscript Book . . . Made for Mendicant Friars
. . . Description of the Text . . . Fac-similes of Wood-cuts on First
and Last Pages . . . Its Curious Theology . . . Four Editions of the
Book . . . Their Peculiarities . . . Twenty Engraved Pages in one
Edition . . . Strange Blemishes . . . Opinions of Bibliographers
concerning the Date and Printer . . . Text of the Book Printed from
Types . . . Fac-simile of the Types . . . Different Bodies of Types
in Different Editions . . . Engraved Pages were Transferred from
Types . . . Book Printed in Four Kinds of Ink . . . By Two Methods of
Impression . . . Types and Cuts could not be Printed together . . .
Opinions about the Quality of the Presswork . . . Strange Faults of
Presswork . . . All Editions were Printed in Holland . . . Wood-cuts
used for the last time by Veldener in 1483 . . . Not Probable that
Veldener Printed the Earlier Editions . . . Veldener did not use the
Types . . . The Speculum is the Work of an Unknown Printer.
* * * * *
Everything about the book is uncertain. It may be that the book was
printed from engraved blocks. There are persons who say that it was
engraved; there is a librarian who says that it was written by hand.
. . . . I submitted the book to a type-founder, to an engraver, and to
a printer, who decided that the book was printed with movable metal
types that had been cast in a mould.
_André Chevillier._
* * * * *
The _Speculum Salutis_[132] was popular as a manuscript for at least
two centuries before the invention of typography. Heineken describes
a copy in the imperial library of Vienna, which he attributes to the
twelfth century. He says, such was the popularity of the work with the
Benedictines that almost every monastery possessed a copy of it. Of the
four manuscript copies owned by the British Museum, one is supposed to
have been written in the thirteenth century, another copy is in the
Flemish writing of the fifteenth century. The printed [p265] book
contains forty-five chapters of barbarous Latin rhymes, the literary
merit of which is clearly enough set before us in Chatto’s faithful
translation of four lines of the preface:
‹f›Predictum prohemium huius libri de contentis compilaui‹/f›
‹f›Et propter pauperes predicatores hoc apponere curaui‹/f›
‹f›Qui si forte nequierunt totum libri sibi comparare‹/f›
‹f›Possunt ex ipso prohemio si sciunt historias predicare.‹/f›
This preface of contents, stating what this book’s about,
For the sake of all poor preachers I have fairly written out.
If the purchase of the book entire should be above their reach,
This preface yet may serve them, if they know but how to preach.[133]
In many features, the _Speculum_ resembles the _Bible of the Poor_. As
the designs are in the same style, and as the engravings show the same
mannerisms, it has been supposed that both books were made by the same
printer; but this conjecture is opposed by many facts and probabilities.
The illustration at the beginning of this chapter is a fac-simile of
the upper part of the first pictorial page. In the compartment to the
right may be seen the Fall of Lucifer. The rebellious angels having
been transformed into devils, and by swords and spears thrust over the
battlements of Heaven, are falling into the jaws of Hell, which is
here represented, in the conventional style of medieval designers, as
the mouth of a hideous monster filled with forks of flame. In the next
compartment is the Creation of Eve in the garden of Eden. Here we see
that the designer has modified the biblical narrative to suit his own
notions: Eve is not formed from the rib of Adam, but is emerging from
his side. At the bottom of this picture is this legend in abbreviated
Latin, God created man after his own image and likeness. [p267]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Upper Part of the First Pictorial
Page of the Speculum Salutis.
[From Heineken.]]
An illustration on the last page of the book represents the Parable
of the Ten Virgins, to which is added the legend, The Kingdom of
Heaven is likened unto Ten Virgins. The five foolish virgins are sadly
descending into the mouth of the monster that represents Hell. Another
illustration represents the prophet Daniel interpreting the writing on
the wall.
Hessel’s free translation of a large portion of the preface is really
needed to show the theological teachings of the book.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Upper Part of the Last Page of the
Speculum Salutis.
[From Heineken.]]
This is the preface of the _Spieghel onser behoudenisse_, which will
teach many people righteousness, and to shine as the stars in eternal
eternities. It is for this reason that I have thought of compiling,
as an instruction for many, this book, from which those who read
it will give and receive instruction. I presume that nothing is in
this life more useful to a man than to acknowledge his Creator, his
condition, his own being. Scholars may learn this from the Scriptures,
and the layman shall be taught by the books of the laymen, that is
by the pictures. Wherefore I have thought fit, with the help of
God, to compile this book for laymen to the glory of God, and as an
instruction for the unlearned, in order that it may be a lesson both
to clerks and to laymen. It will be sufficient to explain the matter
briefly. I mean first to show the fall of Lucifer and the angels. Then
the fall of our first parents and their posterity. Thereupon, how God
delivered us by his assuming flesh, and with what figures he whilom
prefigured this assuming. It is to be observed that many histories are
given in this work, which could not be explained from word to word,
for a teacher does not want to explain more of the histories than he
thinks necessary for their meaning. And in order that this may be seen
better and clearer, I give this parable. . . . . There was an abbey,
in which stood a large oak, which, on account of the narrowness and
smallness of the town, they were compelled to cut down. When it was
cut down, the workmen came together, and each of them chose whatever
he thought would suit his trade. The smith cut off the undermost
block, which he thought suitable for a forge; the shoemaker took
the bark for making leather; the swineherd, the acorns for feeding
pigs; the carpenter, the straight wood for a roof; the shipwright,
the crooked wood; the miller digs the roots up, as they are fit, on
account of their solidity, for the mill; the baker uses the thin twigs
for his oven; the sexton of the church, the leaves for decorating the
church at festivals; the butler, the branches for barrels and mugs;
the cook, the chips for the kitchen. . . . . Just now, as here every
one chose his liking from the hewn tree, so they do with Holy Writ.
The same method has been followed regarding the histories which will
be explained. Every teacher collects from them what he thinks proper
and useful. I shall follow the same way with regard to this work,
leaving out altogether some part of the histories, that it may not
offend those who will hear and read it. Let us also observe that Holy
Writ is like soft wax, which assumes the shape of all forms impressed
upon it. Does, for instance, the stamp contain a lion? the soft wax
will contain the same; and if it bears an ear, the soft wax will
bear the same figure. So one thing signifies, sometimes the Devil,
and sometimes Christ. However, we ought not to be astonished at this
manner of the Scriptures, for divers significations may be ascribed to
the divers performances of a thing or a person. When David, the king,
committed both adultery and [p269] man-slaughter, he represented
not Christ but the Devil. And when he loved his enemies, and did them
good, he bore within him the figure of Christ and not of the Devil.
. . . . This is why I have noticed these remarkable things here, for
I thought it useful to those who study the Holy Scriptures, that they
should not judge me, if they happened to find such things in this
book, for the manner of translation and exposition is so. O good
Jesus, give me works and a Christian devotion which may please thee.
* * * * *
Equally curious is the explanation of the marriage of the mother
of God with Joseph. It appears from this, that it was not thought
superfluous to justify a fact somewhat strange in regard to the
doctrine of the supernatural incarnation of the second person of
the Godhead. The author of the _Speculum_ assigns eight reasons for
this marriage. The first was, that Mary should not be suspected of
unchastity; the second, that she might want the help of a man during
her travels as well as elsewhere; the third, that the Devil might
not become aware of the incarnation of Christ; the fourth, that
Mary could have a witness of her purity; the fifth, that God wished
that his mother should be married; the sixth, to prove the sanctity
of marriage; the seventh, to prove that marriage is no impediment
to blessing; the last, that married people should not despair of
their salvation. Catholicism had already brought the world to the
possibility of that despair. Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend of the
Invention of Printing_, p. 4.
The _Speculum_ was printed at different times and places during the
fifteenth century,[134] but the copies of greatest value are those
which belong to four correlated editions—two in Latin, and two in
Dutch—all without date, name, or place of printer. In these four
editions the illustrations are obviously impressions from the same
blocks; but each edition exhibits some new peculiarity in the shape
or disposition of the letters. Those who favor the theory of an
invention of typography in Holland maintain that these letters are
the impressions of the first movable types, and that the curious
workmanship of the book marks the development of printing at the great
turning-point in its progress when it was passing from xylography
to typography. As important conclusions have been drawn from the
peculiarities of each edition, it is necessary that they should be
described with precision. The order in which the four editions were
actually printed is not certainly known. Six eminent bibliographers
have arranged them in as many different orders. The order assigned
to them here [p270] is purely conjectural, but it is based on the
supposition that that should be the first edition in which the
wood-cuts show the sharpest lines, and that the last in which the types
and wood-cuts show the strongest marks of wear.
The _First Edition_ is in Latin. Each copy of the book is made up
of sixty-three leaves of small folio printed upon one side of the
paper, but with printed pages facing each other, after the style of
the block-books. The space occupied by the printed page is about
7-3/4 inches wide, and 10-1/4 inches high. The preface, in rhyme, is
composed in broad measure, and occupies five pages. The fifty-eight
pages of text that follow are also in rhyme; but they are made up
with two columns to the page. At the top of each page is an engraving
on wood, containing, on one block, two distinct designs, separated
from each other by the pillar of an architectural frame-work. At the
bottom of each design, and engraved upon the same block, is a line in
Latin, which explains the design, and which serves as the text for
the verses underneath. The letters of the preface and the text are
impressions from Pointed Gothic types of the Flemish style. Every line
of verse begins with a capital letter. The only mark of punctuation
is the period, but it is rarely used. The book is without title,
paging-figures, signatures, or catch-words. The wood-cuts are in brown,
and the types in black ink. The brown ink is a water color which can
be partially effaced by rubbing with a moist sponge; the black ink
is an oil color, for it has stained the paper with the pale greenish
tinge of badly prepared oil. As the back of every printed wood-cut is
smooth and shining, while the back of every type-printed page is rough
and deeply indented, it is obvious that the types of the text were
not only printed with a different ink, but by a separate impression,
and, perhaps, by a process different from that employed in printing
the pictures. The two pages that appear on the same sheet were printed
together, as may be inferred from their irregularities; if one page is
out of register, or out of square, its mated page is out of register to
the same degree. The engravings were printed [p271] before the types,
as is clearly proved by the discovery that on some pages the types
slightly overlap the cuts.[135]
The _Second Edition_ is in Latin, and is like the first, with this odd
exception: twenty pages of the text are printed from engraved blocks of
wood. These xylographic pages are distributed in irregular order, as if
by accident, as will be shown by the italic figures, which represent
these pages, in the following table.
First Second Third Fourth Fifth
Section Section of Section of Section of Section of
of Six Fourteen Fourteen Fourteen Sixteen
Leaves. Leaves. Leaves. Leaves. Leaves.
–5 . _6–19_. 20–33 34–47 48–63
1–4 . _7–18_. ._21–32_. 35–46 49–62
2–3 8–17 ._22–31_. 36–45 50–61
. _9–16_. 23–30 37–44 ._51–60_.
._10–15_. 24–29 38–43 52–59
._11–24_. 25–28 39–42 53–58
._12–13_. ._26–27_. 40–41 54–57
55–56
It should be noticed that the xylographic pages, as well as the
typographic pages, are always found in couples. The types are those of
the first edition, but there are [p272] variations in the composition
and spelling of words, which prove that they must have been recomposed
for this edition.
The _Third Edition_ is in Dutch prose. The types are like those of the
previous editions, with the exception of pages 49 and 60, which are
printed in types of a smaller body. The face of the smaller types has
all the peculiarities of the types of the earlier editions, and is
apparently the work of the same letter-cutter. In the few known copies
of this edition there are differences in typographic arrangement which
show that types were altered between the first and the last impression.
The _Fourth Edition_ is also in Dutch prose. All known copies of this
edition are so badly printed that they have the appearance of spoiled
or discarded sheets. Many authors have supposed that this must have
been the first edition, and, perhaps, the first experiment with types;
but a closer examination proves that the bad printing is owing, not so
much to ignorance and to inexperience as to worn types and careless
presswork—that this edition is really the last. The copy that is
preserved by the city of Haarlem shows, in the handwriting of the
sixteenth century, this inscription in Dutch: “The _Speculum Salutis_,
the earliest production of Lourens Coster, the inventor of typography,
who printed at Haarlem about the year 1440.” Between the second and the
third leaf has been inserted a portrait of Lourens Coster, “engraved
by Vandervelde after Van Campen,” with the words, in Latin, “Lourens
Coster, of Haarlem, first inventor of the typographic art about the
year 1440.” Underneath this inscription is a Latin verse by Scriverius,
in which he extols Coster as indisputably the inventor of typography.
As the writing, the portrait, and the inscription were added a
long time after the book had been printed, these additions cannot,
consequently, be accepted as evidences of any real value.
Junius, the historian of Holland, writing in 1568, was the first to
call attention to the _Speculum_. He noticed but one edition: it
is not probable that he knew of the others. He said it was made by
Coster from types of wood, in Haarlem, [p273] before the year 1440.
Scriverius, a Dutch author, writing in 1628, said that it was printed
by Coster from founded or cast types in or about 1428. Heineken, a
German bibliographer, intimates that the blocks of the _Speculum_ were
engraved, and that the two Latin editions were printed in Germany after
the invention of typography; but he concedes, rather grudgingly, that
the Dutch editions were printed in Holland. Santander says that the
book was printed in the Netherlands, but not before the year 1480.
The disagreements of bibliographers concerning this book have not been
restricted to controversies about its date and printer. Some have said
that there were no types in any of the editions, and that the letters,
like the pictures, were cut on solid blocks of wood. This error is
almost pardonable. The superficial observer of our own time will say
that the characters of this book are not types, but badly engraved
letters. They seem to lack the most distinguishing feature of types.
The letters are not at all alike, as may be seen in the accompanying
fac-simile. The variations in the shapes of the letters are so frequent
that a modern printer would at once decide that the dissimilar letters
could not have been cast in the same matrix. This is a curious defect,
but it can be shown that the letters are types, and founded types. “The
existence of a positive fact,” says Chatto, “can never be affected by
any arguments which are grounded on the difficulty of accounting for
it.” It is plain, however, that the types of the book were carelessly
made by an inexpert type-maker, and perhaps by a clumsy method now out
of use. Instead of making all the types of one character from one punch
or original, the printer of this book made them from two, four, or six
punches or originals. At this point it is not necessary to consider
why so many punches were made. It is enough to say that there is real
uniformity in the midst of all this diversity—that each letter is a
duplicate, more or less faithful according to the wear it has received,
of its own original. Careful tracings on transparent paper have been
repeatedly made of a selected letter [p274] for the purpose of testing
its agreement or disagreement with letters of the same kind on other
pages, and the comparison establishes the fact that the letters are
founded types.[136]
The errors of the _Speculum_ are those of types. They show the
inversion of letters in positions which preclude the possibility that
they could have been formed upon engraved blocks. The occasional
occurrence of a _c_ for an _e_, of an _n_ for a _u_, of an _ſ_ for an
_f_, and the “turning upside down” of other letters, are examples of
errors which can be made only by compositors.
The unequal perspicuity of the letters in the _Speculum_ is that of
unequally worn types. Of two adjoining letters, one will be distinct,
black, and deeply indented in the paper; the other will be of dull
color, and of indistinct outlines. The distinct letter is a new and
high type, which has received the full force of impression; the
indistinct letter is an old and worn type which has been touched but
feebly by impression. If all the letters had been engraved on one
plate, they would have been of equal height, and should have been
equally legible, or nearly so, under impression.
The four editions of the _Speculum_ are, of themselves, presumptive
evidence that each edition was printed from types. It is improbable
that the printer would re-engrave blocks for a second edition when
those of the first were in existence. If the first edition had
been printed from types, and the types had been distributed, as is
customary, the printer was obliged to reset them in order to make the
second edition.
These four editions were certainly the work of the same printing
office, and, without doubt, of the same printer, for [p275] the
engravings are the same, and the types, ink, paper, and workmanship
have similar defects and peculiarities. The first edition shows pages
of types only; the next edition has types and blocks, but the types are
like those of the first; then comes a third edition in the same types,
but with two pages of types differing somewhat as to body and face;
lastly an edition entirely in the old types, in a worn condition. Each
edition has more or less connection with the others.[137]
[Illustration:
English.
Two-line Brevier.]
The body or dimension of the types used in the _Speculum_ approximates
the size known to all British and American printers as English; but
it is rather larger than any of the modern standards. It is really
intermediate between the body English and the little-used body of
Two-line brevier or Columbian.[138]
The appearance of twenty engraved pages in the second edition of the
_Speculum_ cannot be explained with satisfaction. Bernard thinks that
these pages are the relics of an earlier edition engraved, or at least
attempted, on wood, which, for some unknown reason, were temporarily
substituted for types. [p276] No trace of this imaginary edition
has been discovered. It has been claimed that the engraver of these
xylographic blocks was the probable inventor of typography. It is
supposed that he matured the ideas he had cherished about movable types
when he was engraving and printing the first edition of the book; that
when he became fully convinced of their feasibility, he stopped the
engraving of the blocks, and finished the work with types which were
made for the purpose. This hypothesis is not reasonable. If the printer
of the book suddenly abandoned blocks for types, the change would be
abruptly marked in his work. The twenty pages at the beginning of the
book would be xylographic, and all following would be typographic. But
it will be perceived that the twenty pages are scattered, without any
order, throughout the book. Instead of being the relics of an earlier
edition, it is demonstrable that these xylographic blocks were cut from
transfers obtained from a typographic edition. A traced drawing upon
transparent paper, taken with accuracy from the first edition of the
_Speculum_, and carefully laid over a corresponding xylographic page
in the second edition, will show an agreement in the length of lines,
in the abbreviation of words, and in the copying of little errors or
blemishes, which could have been produced only by means of transferred
drawing.[139] With this fact before us, the supposition of the priority
of an engraved edition of the book is untenable. Dutch authors say that
these xylographic blocks corroborate a Hollandish legend, in which it
is stated that the materials of the printer of the _Speculum_ were
stolen. They suppose that the first typographer was obliged to engrave
[p278] these twenty blocks to complete his imperfect edition. This
hypothesis does not accord with other facts: the appearance of three
successive editions of the book, each with a text of types, proves that
the practice of typography was continued.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of part of a Page of the Speculum Salutis.]
The provision of black ink for the types and brown ink for the cuts
seems unnecessary, but Van der Linde’s explanation of this peculiarity
is plausible. He says that the oily black ink used on the types may
have been rejected for the cuts because its greasy surface interfered
with the brush of the colorist. It does not appear that the inquiry has
ever been made, whether the brown ink of block-books was always brown.
It is probable that this brown ink was once black. The variability of
the color, so frequently remarked in all block-books, is the certain
indication of a faded black writing ink. It was the fluidity of this
writing ink that prevented its use on the types of the _Speculum_; the
fluid collected in globules on the metal, spreading under impression,
and blotting the paper. Oily ink was required for a surface of metal.
The unequal indentation of the letters indicates that the types were
not of a uniform height. Nor is it probable that the engravings at
the head of every page were always truly flat and of precisely the
same height as the types. They were pieces of flat boards, which must
have warped with every change from heat to cold, or from dampness to
dryness.[140] In these irregularities we find the probable reason for
the employment of two distinct methods of impression. Two impressions
were needed as much as two kinds of ink. [p279] The types required
strong, and the wood-cuts weak impression. If the impression had been
graduated to suit the wood-cuts, the print of the types would not have
been visible; if enough impression had been given to face the types,
the wood-cuts, if in the same form, would have been crushed.
The quality of the presswork of the _Speculum_ has been strangely
misrepresented. Sotheby, who tries to establish the priority of Dutch
printing, says that the ink in one edition is brilliant; that its
types have great beauty and sharpness; that its presswork is equal in
clearness to that of Gutenberg’s Bible. In this high praise no other
author joins: most critics say it is but a shabby piece of presswork.
The Dutch authors, who wish to show the imperfections of typography in
its infancy, call especial attention to the illegibility of the fourth
edition in Dutch, which they claim as the first, and for that reason
they rate it as an unusually clumsy piece of printing. Van der Linde
says that the presswork of the _Speculum_ does not differ materially
from that of many books printed in the Netherlands during the last
quarter of the fifteenth century.[141]
The wood-cuts were printed by the unknown process then made use of by
all block-printers; the types were printed on a press which was fitted
with at least one of the appliances of a well-made printing press; but
the two editions in Latin, which are in verse, with lines of irregular
length, show typographical blemishes of an extraordinary nature. In
the blank spaces at the ends of the short lines are found impressions
of letters never intended to be seen or read—of letters that do
[p280] not belong to the text—of letters not printed with ink, but
embossed or jammed in the paper. On some pages entire words are found.
These words and letters, which are always found within the square of
the printed page, and in line with the types printed in black, are,
undeniably, embossings of types from the same font. The printer who
critically examines these embossed letters will be convinced that the
types making them were used as bearers at the ends of the short lines,
to shield adjacent types from hard impression: he will also know that
they were printed on a press provided with a frisket.[142]
The period in which the early editions of the _Speculum_ were printed
will be the subject of the next chapter, but it may here be told when
the wood-cuts were destroyed. In the year 1483, one John Veldener,
then a printer at Culembourg, printed two editions of the _Speculum_,
in the Dutch language, and in small quarto form. One edition contained
116 and another 128 illustrations, printed from the wood-cuts that had
been previously used in the four notable editions. To make these broad
wood-cuts, which had been designed for pages in folio, serve for pages
in quarto, Veldener cut away the architectural frame-work surrounding
each illustration, and then sawed each block in two pieces. Mutilated
in this fashion, it was impossible afterward for any printer to use
these blocks in the production of an edition in folio like any of those
that have been previously described. Veldener’s editions were not made
by the method used by the printer of the earlier editions: the types
and the wood-cuts were printed together, [p281] in black ink and upon
both sides of the leaf. The blocks were badly worn before they were
mutilated: the finer lines of the engraving are flattened out, and
retain too much ink, producing an effect of blackness and muddiness
not shown in the impressions of the earlier editions. The fault is
certainly in the cuts, and not in the presswork, for Veldener was an
able printer. The wood-cuts printed by him in other books, at Louvain
and at Utrecht, show neater presswork, although they are of feeble
design and meanly engraved.[143]
Although Veldener made use of the wood-cuts, he did not use any of the
types of the _Speculum_. His book types are well known: as they are of
different bodies and faces, they may be regarded as conclusive evidence
that Veldener was not the printer of the early editions. It is probable
that he bought from the printer of the first editions, or from his
successors, the wood-cuts only. We may suppose that the types were worn
out, and that the punches and matrices were also worn out or obsolete,
for we find no traces of them in the books of any later printer. We
have, therefore, to attribute all the books in which these types are
found to a printer who preceded Veldener. We do not know the name of
this printer, nor can we fix the date when he began to print, but it is
evident that he was one of the earliest if not the first typographic
printer in the Netherlands.
[p282]
XV
The Works and Workmanship of an Unknown Printer.
The Speculum not the Work of an Experimenter . . . Improbable that
this was his only Typographic Book . . . Twelve Books, Eight Faces
of Types and Forty-two Editions attributed to him or his Successors
. . . Hessel’s Classification of these Types . . . Fac-simile of the
Types of the Speculum . . . Fac-simile of the Fables of Lorenzo Valla
. . . Fac-simile of the Peculiarities of Criminal Law . . . Fac-simile
of the Epitaphs of Pope Pius II . . . The Donatus . . . Fac-simile
of the Abecedarium . . . The Eight Faces of Types were made by the
same Printer . . . An Indication that he Wore out Types rapidly . . .
That he Sold many Books . . . Trivial Character of the Books . . .
His Types not Made of Wood . . . Illustrations of Types of Wood . . .
Their Impracticability Demonstrated . . . Books not made from Cut
Types . . . Cause of the Dissimilar Appearance of the Types . . . Were
Founded . . . The Press of the Unknown Printer . . . Its Defects . . .
Indications of the Use of a Frisket.
* * * * *
If any shall suggest, that some of the Enquiries here insisted upon
(as particularly those about the Letters of the Alphabet) do seem too
minute and trivial for any prudent man to bestow his serious thoughts
and time about, such persons may know that the discovery of the true
nature and cause of any the most minute thing doth promote real
knowledge, and therefore cannot be unfit for any Man’s endeavours.
_Bishop Wilkins_, 1668.
* * * * *
If the printer of the _Speculum_ was the rightful inventor of
typography, his workmanship, as shown in the different editions of the
book, clearly proves that he had passed the shoals of experiment, and
was on the broad sea of successful practice. We can see, even without
the help of the legends or chronicles, that he cut punches, made moulds
and founded types of different faces and bodies; that he compounded
ink in a proper manner, and printed his types upon a press constructed
for the needs of his work; that he was successful both as a publisher
and a printer. He practised printing not for amusement, nor in the way
of scientific experiment, but as a business. Rude as his workmanship
may appear, it fairly included all departments of the art: it was not
experimental, but practical typography. [p283]
With these facts before us, it would seem proper to pass at once
to the examination of the statements that have been made about the
supposed printer of the book. But an examination at this point would be
premature, for we have not, as yet, all the facts that are required.
The four editions of the _Speculum_ do not furnish enough evidence. It
is not reasonable to suppose that two or three distinct fonts of type
were made for no other purpose than the printing of four editions of
this book. It is probable that the printer printed other books. But
the early chronicles of Dutch printing tell us very little about these
books. They are not only meagre in their recital of the more important
facts connected with the invention, but are notoriously incorrect in
their description of the minor details. They are unsafe guides. The
books themselves, which reveal, to some extent, the process by which
they were printed, are now regarded as of higher authority. We can
accept the chronicles only so far as they corroborate the internal
evidences of the books. It is proper that the books should be examined
first.
The number of these books is greater than has been supposed, even
by those who have favored the Dutch version of the invention of
typography. Forty-three editions of twelve different works, printed
from eight faces of types, are now attributed to the unknown printer
of the _Speculum_ or to his successors. In eleven works, the types
resemble those of the _Speculum_, but the books are different as to
character. They are in the form of small quarto or octavo, and are
entirely destitute of illustrations. They are without name or place
of printer, and, with one exception, are without date; they have
no literary and no historical value; they differ but little, in a
mechanical point of view, from numerous undated works of similar nature
that have been assigned by bibliographers to the latter part of the
fifteenth century. The places where these books or their fragments
were found, and some of their peculiarities of workmanship, furnish
evidences of value in an inquiry concerning their printer. [p284]
These books have been carefully classified according to their types, by
J. H. Hessels, the translator in English of Van der Linde’s _Haarlem
Legend_, from which work the classification following has been copied.
The types have been specified by numbers, and have been arranged
according to the order in which they are described by Holtrop in his
_Monuments typographiques_. It is not pretended that the order of these
numbers indicates the order in which the types were made; numbers have
been assigned to them only for convenience in reference and for the
purpose of accurate classification.
TYPE I. In this character[144] the four notable editions of the
_Speculum_ were printed. In the same character were found the relics of
six editions of the _Donatus_. The single leaf by which one edition of
this book was identified, was pasted in a volume which once belonged to
Sion Convent, at Cologne, and which contained several treatises printed
by Ulric Zell, of Cologne. One of these treatises is dated 1467.
Another leaf, now in the city hall of the city of Haarlem, was found
in the original binding of an account book for the year 1474, which
book was kept in the cathedral of that city. The account books of this
church for the years 1476, 1485 and 1514, contain cuttings of leaves
from the same edition. The first entry in the record of 1474 is to this
effect: “_Item._ I have paid six Rhine florins to Cornelis the binder,
for the binding of books.”[145] Fragments of other little books printed
in the types of the _Speculum_ have been found:
An abridgment of the Liturgy, then known as the _Little Book of the
Mass_,[146] a small quarto, with pages of twelve lines. [p285]
A Dutch version of the _Seven Penitential Psalms_, in the form of a
very small quarto, containing but eleven lines to the page, printed on
vellum, on one side only of the leaf. The only known copy of this work
was found in Brussels.
Fragments on vellum of three editions of the _Doctrinal of Alexander
Gallus_, a Latin grammar in rhyme, noticed by Van der Linde as the
shabby compilation, by a priest of Brittany who lived in the thirteenth
century, of the old Latin grammar of Priscianus. One of these fragments
was found within the lining of a book printed at Deventer in 1495.
Four leaves of the _Couplets of Cato_, a small quarto which was then
very popular in the schools.
[Illustration: Type II. Fac-simile of the Small Types in the Third
Edition of the Speculum.
[From Holtrop.]]
TYPE II. The Dutch edition of the _Speculum_, which is described in
this book as the third, contains, on pages 49 and 60, types which
resemble those of other editions, and which seem to be the workmanship
of the same letter-cutter. As these types are of a smaller face and
body, they must have been founded in another mould. No fragments of any
book in this smaller type have been found.
[Illustration: Type III. Fac-simile of the Types of the Fables of
Lorenzo Valla.
[From Koning.]]
TYPE III. The types of this face are newer, but they resemble those
of Type II; some capitals are identical, but others have differences
which establish it as a distinct face. As it is of a larger body, it
must have been founded in a [p286] different mould. A book which
contains the _Fables of Lorenzo Valla_ and the _Witty Speeches of Great
Men_, two little works of some popularity in the fifteenth century,
is the only known specimen of this type. The paper of this book,
which is like that of the _Speculum_, contains many of the strange
blemishes, previously described, of useless letters embossed in the
white lines and near the margins. As the written preface of the author
is dated May, 1438, it is apparent that the book must have been printed
subsequently to this date.
[Illustration: Type IV. Fac-simile of the Types of the Peculiarities of
Criminal Law.
[From Koning.]]
TYPE IV. Of this face, the fragments of four copies, and presumably of
four distinct editions, of the _Donatus_ have been found. This type,
which does not closely resemble the faces previously described, was
founded on a body a little larger than Paragon. The largest book in
this type is a treatise on the Roman Law, apparently an abridgment of
the fifth book of the _Pandects of Justinian_. It is described in the
preface as _The Peculiarities of Criminal Law, by Lewis of Rome_. This
treatise, which consists of forty-four pages, is printed in the form of
small folio, twenty-six lines to the page. It was the largest book and
contains the largest type of the unknown printer. [p287]
TYPE V. The forty-fifth page and all subsequent pages of the book
previously described are devoted to a _Treatise and Epitaphs by Pope
Pius II_, and a _Eulogy on Lorenzo Valla_. In these names we find sure
indications of the probable age of the book: Cardinal Piccolomini or
Æneas Sylvius was made Pope Pius II in the year 1458; Lorenzo Valla
died in 1457. The book must have been written and printed after
these dates. The workmanship of this part of the book is of superior
character: the types were fairly founded on a body about the size of
Great-primer; they were decently printed in good black ink and on both
sides of the paper, but the remarkable defect of embossed letters which
has been noticed as one of the blemishes of the _Speculum_ is also
noticeable in this book.
This Type V seems to have been more frequently used than any other
type in the list, but it was always on petty books or pamphlets. One
book printed in it has only twenty-four pages, but it is made up of
four distinct tracts: _William of Saliceto on the Health of the Body_;
_Torquemada on the Health of the Soul_; _A Treatise on Love, etc., by
Pope Pius II_; _The Iliad of Homer_, or more definitely, a commendation
of the _Iliad_. Two editions of this book have been discovered. A
fragment of one edition was found in the binding of a work printed by
Jan Andrieszoon, of Haarlem, in the year [p288] 1486. Another book in
the same type, which consists of ten leaves, contains an abridgment
or an epitome of the _Iliad_, with a preface by Pius II in praise of
Homer. Of this book two editions were printed. Six editions of the
_Donatus_, four editions of the _Doctrinal of Alexander Gallus_, and
one edition of the _Couplets of Cato_ were also printed in this type.
[Illustration: Type V. Fac-simile of the Types of the Epitaphs of Pope
Pius II.
[From Koning.]]
TYPE VI. An edition of the _Donatus_, twenty-seven lines to the page,
is the only known book in this type, which was founded on Great-primer
body.
TYPE VII. Four leaves of a _Donatus_ on vellum, taken from the binding
of a book printed in Strasburg in the year 1493, and belonging to a
convent in North Brabant, are all that is known of this type, which
closely resembles the character described as Type V.
TYPE VIII.[147] Impressions from this face of type have been found
in the fragments of only two books. Two broad bands of parchment
printed upon one side only with the text of a [p289] _Donatus_,
which were discovered in the cover linings of a manual of devotion,
printed at Delft in 1484, are the only known relics of one of these
books. The types are barbarous, of singularly ungraceful cut, of
uneven height and out of line, evidently founded by a man who had no
skill in type-founding. They are printed in pale ink which is readily
removed by the application of water. The presswork is as slovenly as
the type-founding, but the composition was done with some care and
intelligence. The lines of type are nearly even as to length, and the
words, when broken, are properly divided in syllables. It is evident
that the compositor knew how to space and divide words, but the
font of type that he used was not provided with hyphens or marks of
punctuation. The fashion of the letter is in the Dutch style as may be
seen in the final _t_ with the perpendicular bar.
The other fragment in this type is a little pamphlet of eight pages,
printed on parchment and upon one side only. It is described by
some as a _Horarium_, or a little book of prayers; by others as an
_Abecedarium_, or a child’s primer. It contains the Alphabet (all the
small letters but not the capitals), the Lord’s Prayer, the Ave Maria,
the Apostles’ Creed, and two prayers. The Alphabet has the _k_, a
letter that was not used in the Latin language; it has no _w_, this
letter being formed by the union of the two characters _v_. Holtrop
says that the types seem to have been made for the Dutch language.
The “turning upside down” of four letters on the second page of this
little work proves that the letters are impressions from movable types.
Line 2. _Paue_ should be Pane.
Line 3. _Cotidiaun_ should be Cotidianu.
Line 5. _uobis_ should be nobis.
Line 6. _uostra_ should be nostra.
This little tract was discovered in 1751 by the celebrated type-founder
Enschedé, of Haarlem, in a manuscript breviary of the fifteenth
century, among the books of the descendants of John Van Zuren, a
printer of Haarlem in 1561.
If barbarous type-founding and shabby printing could be accepted as
conclusive evidence of the superior antiquity of [p290] the book
in which these faults occur, the _Abecedarium_ should be the oldest
piece of printed matter. One cannot imagine a printed book with more
slovenly workmanship. Its types present all the irregularities of the
_Donatus_ previously described. The pages have but nine lines of types
to each page, yet they are very crooked. This crookedness was partially
produced by an unskillful fastening, or locking-up of the types, but
it is plain that the types were of irregular size as to body, and that
the letters were badly adjusted upon the bodies. Some types are high
and others low to paper, and there are types that are legible at one
end of the face and not at the other. The presswork is wretched: we
see the evidences of too weak and badly distributed ink and of uneven
impression. The text shows many faults of composition in the division
of syllables. To the observer who is not an expert in typography, the
workmanship of the book seems that of a man who had no experience in
any department of printing: the faults do not appear to be those of a
badly taught printer, but those of an experimenter.
[Illustration: First Page.
The Enschedé Abecedarium.
[From Holtrop.]]
[Illustration: Second Page.
The Enschedé Abecedarium.
[From Holtrop.]]
For this reason the _Abecedarium_ has been claimed by the Dutch
historians of typography as the first production of the inventor of the
art. They say that it was printed before any edition of the _Speculum_,
and probably in the first quarter of the fifteenth century. A closer
[p291] examination of the book does not lead to this conclusion: the
printer of the book was, no doubt, a careless workman, but he had been
taught the trade. The fragments of the tract are in four pieces, but
they were printed in one form of eight pages, and by one impression.
This artificial arrangement of the pages, in the arbitrary position
which allows them to be folded together in regular order, reveals an
expertness in little technicalities on the part of this early printer
which is somewhat unexpected. The method of printing sheets imposed in
forms of eight pages was not in fashion before it was adopted by Aldus
Manutius, of Venice, in his edition of Virgil dated 1501. It is not
an invention of the first, but of the last quarter of the fifteenth
century, to which period this book belongs.[148]
The types of the book were not set up by an experimenter or ignoramus.
The comparatively even outline to the right of every page shows that
the compositor tried to space out his lines and to give every page an
appearance of uniform squareness. As full and even-spaced lines are not
to be found in any edition of the _Speculum_, nor in any of the first
books of the early printers, we may conclude that the _Abecedarium_ was
printed at a later date, when this improvement had been adopted by all
printers.
It has been maintained that the book must be very old, because it is
printed on one side only, after the fashion of the block-printers.
This is an improper inference, for each fragment has the appearance
of a spoiled impression which was rejected before the sheet had been
perfected by printing on the other side. The unfilled space for the
initial letter shows that the work on the sheet was never completed.
[p292]
The eight faces of types show their relation to each other, not only
by common features, but by the occasional appearance of two faces
in one book. That they were never used by any printer of Germany,
nor by any known printer of the Netherlands, is acknowledged even by
those who dispute their age. That they were founded and used in the
Netherlands, and probably in Holland, may rightfully be inferred from
the language of two editions of the same book, from the Dutch fashion
of the letters in all the books, and from the fact that all existing
copies or fragments of works in these types have been discovered in
the Netherlands. That they were the work of one printer, or of the
successors of that printer, is highly probable. But this admission
involves difficulties. These eight faces of types were founded on
as many different bodies: four of these faces are on bodies nearly
the size of English; two of them are on bodies about the size of
Great-primer. The modern printer is at a loss to imagine why his
unknown predecessor should have cut so many punches and made so many
fonts of types with faces closely resembling each other, yet so unlike
that they could not be used together. His perplexity is increased when
he discovers, after careful measurement, that each face on English
body and each face on Great-primer body was cast in a new or different
mould. It would seem that the unknown printer of the _Speculum_ not
only incurred the needless expense of cutting new punches and making
new moulds for every new font of types, but that he intentionally
introduced in his printing office bodies so nearly alike that they
could not, in the shape of single types, be distinguished apart.
The questions at once arise, Why were so many faces and bodies of types
that could be readily mistaken for each other, and were so liable to
be mixed together, allowed in one office? Why were so many punches
cut for such trivial differences of face, and so many moulds made for
such slight differences of body? These questions can be answered only
by conjectures fairly derived from the remarkable workmanship of the
books. [p293] The harsh indentation of the types in the paper shows
very clearly that the types were roughly used, and that they wore out
rapidly. We can see, also, that the method of making types was as
imperfect as the method of obtaining impression. It is possible that
the matrices and moulds wore out as fast as the types, but they could
not have been renewed if they had not been made by a much quicker
and cheaper method than that of modern type-founders. It is not at
all probable that these different types were in use together. We may
suppose that as soon as a font of types was worn out, it was replaced
by another font, which may have been cast from new matrices and a new
adjustment of mould. A new font made in imitation of the old one, but
made without scientific method, and without regard to exact accuracy,
would show the difference in face and body which seems so strange to
the modern printer.
These eight fonts of type seem all the more unnecessary when we
consider the trivial nature of the unknown printer’s works.[149]
The _Speculum_ is the only book of respectable size; the others are
so diminutive that they could be classified as pamphlets. They were
cheaply made, adapted, apparently, to the wants of school-boys, and
were probably sold for small sums. It is evident that the books met
with ready sale. We find four editions of the _Speculum_ in two faces
of type and in two languages; nineteen editions of the _Donatus_ in six
faces of type; six editions of the _Doctrinal_ in two faces; and twelve
editions of other books.
From the character of the books, one might judge that they had been
printed for the use of some school, and at the suggestion, or under
the direction, of the authorities of the church. The _Abecedarium_ was
a primer for small children. The books most frequently published, the
_Donatus_ and the _Doctrinal_, were those most needed by very young
scholars. [p294] The _Couplets of Cato_, the curt treatise on the
_Roman Law_, and the _Praise of the Iliad_, are, in size and subject,
the books that would be suitable for a boy’s school in the middle ages.
The _Treatises_ of Saliceto and Torquemada, the _Witty Sayings of Great
Men_ and the _Eulogy_ of Pope Pius II, may also be included in the list
of books that were intended to be used in schools for the teaching of
morals. The character of these works is more juvenile than that of any
other typographic printer of that century. Whoever compares them with
the ponderous theological works that were printed by Mentel, Gutenberg
and Schœffer, and by numerous printers in Germany, and subsequently in
the Netherlands, will at once see that this unknown printer made books
for boys where other printers made books for men. Probably he could
secure no other buyers. His workmanship was so rude that it could not
be sold to an intelligent or critical reader. His process was suitable
only for the cheapest work and the simplest tastes.
[Illustration: 1. Experimental Letters Drawn on Wood.
[From De la Borde.]]
[Illustration: 2. Experimental Letters Drawn on Wood.
[From De la Borde.]]
[Illustration: 3. Types made from the Experimental Letters.[150]
[From De la Borde.]]
It is unnecessary to prove that the types of these books, like the
types of the _Speculum_, were founded in a mould. They show the same
features, and must have been made by the same process. It is, however,
necessary to show that neither these types, nor [p295] any types made
in the infancy of the art, could have been cut on wood or metal. There
is a tradition, which has found its way in many popular treatises on
typography, and even in encyclopædias, that the first types were cut
or sawed out of wood. We are told that separate letters, drawn at
graduated distances, were engraved on blocks of wood, and that a saw
cutting through the intervening spaces separated the fixed letters
and made movable types. According to Meerman, the uncouthness of the
types of the _Abecedarium_ is fully explained by the acceptance of this
tradition. It is necessary, at the outset, to show the impracticability
of these imaginary types of wood. This can be done in no better way
than by presenting the illustrations of Leon De la Borde, one of the
most eminent defenders of the theory. In these engravings, we see how
the letters were drawn on the blocks, how lines were marked out to
guide the saw that cut them apart, and how the dissected letters were
recombined in new positions. But this illustration really proves the
reverse of what was intended: it proves that types may be cut out of
wood, but that they cannot be used after they have been cut. In this
third illustration, the lines of type are separated by leads,[151]
but the types stand more unevenly in line than the letters of any
xylographic book. It is obvious to every printer that they could not
have been printed at all, if they had not been [p296] leaded. As
an imitation, the illustration is of no value, for it illustrates a
method of arranging types which was never practised by the unknown
printer, whose types were always composed without leads. This pretended
demonstration must be put aside as a complete failure.[152]
Those who have written in defense of types of wood have failed to see
that the cutting of the faces is the least difficult part of the work.
The real difficulty is in the cutting of the bodies—in making bodies so
accurate that they can be interchanged with facility, in all kinds of
combinations, without showing distortion in the line of the face. In
small types made of wood this accuracy is not possible. Even if it were
possible to cut them, it would be impossible to use them. No care could
keep them from warping. Types must be wet with ink, and they must be
cleansed with lye or water; they must be exposed to changes from heat
to cold, from dampness to dryness. Under these influences, the little
skewers of wood, for so they must be regarded, would soon be twisted
out of shape, and unfitted for future service. It is in this liability
to warp that types of wood fail most signally. It is not enough that
they can be made to serve for one experiment; the only demonstration of
practicability that a printer can accept is [p297] that of repeated
distribution and recomposition, a feat which has never been done. That
types of wood were tried by the inventor of typography is probable;
that single leaves were printed, experimentally, is possible; but the
statement that any printer used them repeatedly in the printing of
books, cannot be admitted. No book was ever printed in Europe with
small types of wood. It is time, says Van der Linde, that criticism
made a bonfire of these imaginary types.[153]
The hypothesis of types of wood has been given up reluctantly. It was
considered that the singular variety of letters, so noticeable in all
the books of the unknown printer, and so contrary to the usage of
the modern type-founder, could have been produced only by engraving
the types. A demonstration of the impracticability of bodies of wood
seemed to [p298] destroy with it the only reasonable explanation of
the greatest peculiarity of these types. To place this imaginary method
of making types on unassailable ground, Meerman offered a modification
of the theory. He supposed that the first printers of Germany founded
little cubes of metal, with truly squared bodies, upon one end of
which the faces were subsequently engraved. The misconstruction of
the language of a chronicler of the sixteenth century—who, in trying
to explain the process of making types, carelessly placed the cutting
of the punch after the founding of the type—seemed a full warrant for
this conjecture. It is, however, but a conjecture: there is no credible
authority for the statement that the printers first cast the bodies and
then cut the faces. Cut types, if made at all, were made only in the
way of preliminary experiment. The method is as impracticable as it is
absurd. “He must have been an imbecile,” says Bernard, “who could not
see that the process of founding in a mould which made the body would
also make the face.”
The allusions to letter-cutting that are so frequent in all the earlier
notices of type-making can be readily explained. The cutting is not
that of types used for printing, but of the punches by which the
printing types were made. The types of the early printers were made by
two classes of workmen: he who poured the melted metal was the founder;
he who made the model letters was the cutter. Performing the more
artistic and the more difficult part of the work, the punch-cutter was
properly regarded as the maker of the types.
The variety of faces in the types of the unknown printer can be
explained in a much more satisfactory manner than by attributing them
to the accidental slips or deviation of the graving tool. The letters
of the manuscript books of that century were not uniform; it was not
necessary that printed letters should be uniform. The fashion of the
day did not require it. On the contrary, it did seem desirable that
the letters should be printed with the variety of shapes to which
readers were accustomed. Whether this variety of shape in [p299] type
was the result of design, of accident, or of necessity need not now
be considered; in this place it is enough to say that all the early
printers made many varieties of the letters which they most frequently
used.[154] It should, however, be noticed that this apparent taste for
variety of form was confined to the small or lower-case letters. Two
forms of a capital letter are rarely found in the same book, but the
same form of capital is occasionally used with two faces of lower-case
types that are decidedly different.
The dissimilarity of the small types has been made greater by faults
of type-founding and of presswork. In all copies of the _Speculum_
the careful observer will see the impressions of types with imperfect
faces. There are many half-formed letters, with little peculiarities
of appearance which can be satisfactorily explained only by the
conjecture that the types in leaving the mould, carried with them the
impress of defects in the matrices. We can see that the types were
unequal in height, and that the over-high types have been flattened out
under impression. This flattening-out of the soft metal has produced
a strange appearance of compactness, making letters that were really
separate seem connected. The ink, which [p300] was sometimes thin
and gray and sometimes thick and strong black, was applied by an
imperfect method which has filled the counters of some letters until
they are almost illegible, while it has not fairly covered the faces of
other letters. The singular irregularities of a collection of types,
apparently new on one page and worn-out on another, which have provoked
the astonishment of many critics, are chargeable, not to the condition
of the types, but to faulty methods of inking and impression. Few
persons have a proper notion of the changes that can be given to the
appearance of the best modern types by substituting wet for dry paper,
hard for light impression, and thin for thick ink.[155]
How the types of these and of other early books were founded cannot
be learned from the vague descriptions of the early chroniclers of
typography. We have to conjecture the process from the workmanship of
the books. The discrepancies in the bodies and the imperfections of the
faces indicate that the process was rude and unscientific, and that the
mould was not of metal. It is possible that the maker of these types
followed the example of other founders in metals, and made types in
moulds of sand.[156] There are some peculiarities in his types which
almost confirm this conjecture. The difficulty encountered in fitting
matrices to these moulds, or in adjusting the mould of the face of the
letter in proper position on the body, a difficulty that calls for no
explanation, may be the reason why the types are so often out of line,
crookedly set on body and of irregular height to paper. The feebleness
of the sand mould, its liability to damage, and the necessity for
its frequent renewal are, possibly, the reasons why we find in the
[p301] impressions of the unknown printer types of so many bodies,
and with such singular defects.[157] The rounded edges, spotted stems
and deficient lines of many of the letters seem the faults of types
unskillfully founded in moulds of sand, from metal insufficiently hot,
poured in without the force that is needed to make it penetrate all the
finer lines of the matrix.[158]
Koning, the author of a prize essay on the invention of typography
by Coster, expresses his belief in the theory that the types of the
_Speculum_ were made from punches of wood and were founded in matrices
of lead. His belief in the use of these rude implements is based on
the well known fact that matrices of lead were frequently used by the
earlier German and Dutch printers. Enschedé of Haarlem had in his
type-foundry matrices of lead, which he claimed were used by Peter
Schœffer in the fifteenth century. Firmin-Didot, the eminent [p302]
type-founder of Paris, says that punches of wood and matrices of lead
were used in his type-foundry for the casting of large ornamental types
even as late as the beginning of the present century. His description
is as curious as it is instructive.
. . . I have often made use of this process, . . . which is to sink in
lead, a character cut on wood, at the instant when, melted by heat,
the lead is about to harden. Matrices of lead made by this process are
subsequently justified for height and for lining, like other matrices.
Then, by the ordinary process of stereotyping, one may take from this
matrix, a duplicate in metal, which, after having been dressed, is
replaced in the matrix in lead, and fitted up to a mould. The melted
metal poured in this mould, not only makes the body of the type, but
at the same time solders itself to the stereotype [nested in the
matrix] which makes the face of the type. By this process one may take
from a matrix in lead, a type as perfect as that which is obtained
in the ordinary manner. But these matrices in lead will only make a
limited number of stereotypes. . . . By taking the precaution to cool
occasionally a matrix in lead, one can obtain from sixty to eighty
types, without being obliged to re-enter the old matrix with the punch
of wood, or to make a new matrix from the same punch. For vowels,
and for the letters that are more frequently used, it is necessary
to increase the number of matrices. But whenever the punch re-enters
the matrix, the form of the punch undergoes some alteration from the
effects of the pressure and the heat. It often happens that the punch
is burned during the little time that it is buried in the hot metal.
It then becomes necessary to re-engrave the punch. These are the
reasons why differences in shape are to be found in the letters that
are most frequently used.[159]
Whether the types of the unknown printer were founded entirely in
sand, or in matrices of lead, cannot be positively determined from the
appearance of the letters, for it seems that either method of founding
would produce types showing similar defects. It is probable that
the punches were cut on wood, and sunk in hot metal as described by
Didot, and that the types of the _Speculum_ were not only cast in lead
matrices, but that the matrices were sometimes conjoined, and that two
or more letters were cast together on one body. There is a closeness
of fitting in some of the words which cannot be [p303] explained
with entire satisfaction by the hypothesis that this closeness is the
result of flattening out under pressure. One is strengthened in this
belief when he discovers that it was not an uncommon practice in the
type-foundries of the fifteenth century to join the matrices. Six of
the matrices owned by Enschedé, and by him attributed to Schœffer, were
made to be combined. These leaden matrices were pierced through their
sides with a gimlet-hole, in which an iron wire was inserted to bind
them together, and keep them securely on the mould. The method was
faulty, for it could not keep the matrices in proper position; it could
not produce types uniform as to height and true as to line.[160]
The thick faces and flattened lines of the types in many of the unknown
printer’s books show that his types were of very soft metal, probably
of pure lead. To satisfy his doubts on this subject, Enschedé cast in
some of his antique moulds types composed almost entirely of lead.
The experiment succeeded: he was convinced that practical types of
lead could be founded in matrices of lead.[161] Blades carried this
experiment to a more successful conclusion, for he put the types to
practical use. He had cast for him a collection of types in [p304]
“unmixed lead,” with which he printed five hundred impressions on rough
and dry paper. He says that the types showed no appreciable wear; but
this is not surprising, for we have evidences that they were printed
by an expert pressman on an iron press provided with every appliance
requisite for a nice adjustment of the impression.
It is not at all probable that the press of the unknown printer had
these handy appliances. All the printing presses made before the
nineteenth century had wooden frames, with beds of slate or stone,
and platens or pressing surfaces of wood. Impression was given by the
direct action of a screw, the force applied being regulated only by the
discretion of the pressman. Knight, in his essay on Caxton, says the
press of that printer was a modification of the cheese-press, provided
with an attachment that permitted the form of types to be moved in and
out of the press. German authors say that the first printing press
was a modification of the wine-press. Bernard says it was, probably,
an improved form of coining or stamping press. But these are only
conjectures. We can find no engraving nor any verbal description of the
form of the printing press in use during the fifteenth century. The
general neglect by all artists and writers of this important auxiliary
to printing is an indication that no importance was attached either to
the mechanism of the press or to the principle of impression. It seems
to have been generally understood that, whatever merit there might have
been in the invention of printing, no noteworthy inventive skill had
been shown in the construction of the press. It was not only a rude but
an old contrivance.
We have many evidences that the press of the unknown printer was of the
rudest construction. Some pages have the marks of strong pressure in
one corner and of weak impression in another—manifestly the result of
the printer’s inability to regulate or control the force he exerted.
The margins of the _Speculum_ are of unequal width; the type-work is
rarely ever parallel with the engraving at the head or at a proper
[p305] distance from it. On some pages, the types overlap or bite on
the wood-cuts; on other pages they are too near or too far from them.
One of the reasons why the _Speculum_ was printed on one side only
was the deficiency in this press of any contrivance for determining
the proper position of the sheet before the impression was taken.
The pressman could not print one page truly and squarely on the back
of another page. Koning says that the printer did not have the least
idea of the means to be used for accomplishing this result.[162] This
defect of the press can be seen in the pages of the small books without
illustrations: they were printed on both sides, but the modern printer
would condemn the work as seriously out of register.
The most remarkable peculiarity in the presswork of the _Speculum_ is
the embossed letters at the ends of the short lines.[163] They are most
noticeable in the two Latin editions, which contain lines of unequal
length. To the modern printer the purpose to be accomplished by the
use of the old and worn types that produced these embossed letters is
apparent at a glance. They served as bearers or guards to shield newer
and better types in exposed positions from an impression which [p306]
could not be regulated. This exposed position was at the ends of the
long lines; the types that projected beyond their fellows received the
hardest impression, and the printer knew no better method of shielding
them than by the insertion of worn types at the ends of the shorter
lines above and below.[164]
This expedient was insufficient. On the margins of many copies of the
_Speculum_ can be detected (for the grain of wood is unmistakable) the
marks of impressions against wood. It seems that the pages of types
were fastened in a mortised block of wood of the same height as the
types. This block of wood not only served as a chase to hold the types,
but as a bearer to shield the types from uneven impression. It steadied
the descent of the platen, and diffused the impression equally over the
entire surface. These bearers shielded the types from undue impression,
but they made a new difficulty, for they were of the same height as
the types. The inking of a form so constructed must have blackened
with equal impartiality the types of the text, the worn types used as
bearers, and the wooden chase. To lay a sheet of white paper over such
a form would smear and blacken it at the ends of short lines and in
the margins where no color was required. It became necessary to put a
mask over these bearers, so that the ink on the bearers would not be
transferred to the paper.
This mask was substantially the same contrivance which modern printers
call the frisket. It shielded the white sheet from contact with ink
where ink was not required, but could not shield it from impression. It
really strengthened and deepened the impression, producing the embossed
letters in the short lines and the marks of wood in the margins. On
[p307] some pages the slipping or displacement of this paper mask
caused the false letters to be printed in black; on one other page the
mask slipped so trivially that one-half of the false types was printed
in black, while the other half was embossed in white; on another page
the mask slipped over the text type, and obscured the end of the line.
These were exceptional errors; the general execution of this part of
the work shows that the printer was a man of some intelligence, and
that with imperfect materials he performed a very difficult task.
[Illustration: The Frisket, Tympan and Bed of a European Hand Printing
Press.
_A C_ The Frisket.
_C B_ The Tympan.
_B D_ The Bed.
The operation of presswork begins with inking the form on the bed of
the press, which, in this illustration, is supposed to contain a form
not unlike that of the _Speculum_, nested in a chase type-high. The
sheet is laid on the tympan against guides that keep it in place. The
frisket, containing the paper masks cut out to sink the irregularities
of the form, is folded down in the line A B, partially covering the
paper on the tympan. The tympan is then folded over on the line C D,
which operation brings the paper down on the face of the form, ready
to receive the impression. These are the appliances of a modern press.
The frisket of the unknown printer was of much simpler construction,
probably nothing more than a mask of paper laid on the form of types by
hand.]
[p308]
XVI
The Period in which the Speculum was Printed.
The Paper-Marks of the Speculum, with Fac-similes . . . Not Evidence
of Age . . . The Earliest Dated Annotation . . . Earliest Known
Manuscript copy in Dutch . . . Indications that the Book was Printed
at Utrecht . . . Probably Printed in the Last Half of the Fifteenth
Century . . . Review of the Evidences . . . The Cambray Record . . .
Printers of the Fraternity of St. John at Bruges . . . Testimony
of Zell in the Cologne Chronicle . . . All Unsatisfactory . . .
Discordant Opinions . . . Dutch Printing probably Xylographic . . .
No Evidence of an Early Use of Types in Holland . . . Early Printing
in Haarlem . . . Jacob Bellaert . . . Fac-simile of his Types . . .
His Successors . . . Brito of Bruges, with Fac-simile of his Types
. . . Was not an Inventor . . . Netherlandish Knowledge of Printing
came from Cologne . . . Map of the Netherlands . . . Not probable that
Types were Used there before 1463.
* * * * *
The utility and charm of historical researches do not depend upon
the exactness of their results. Inasmuch as error is misfortune, so
examination is profitable, even that which does no more than declare
as evident the opinion which had been regarded as plausible.
_Daunou._
* * * * *
The paper-marks[165] of the _Speculum_ and of other works of the
unknown printer have been repeatedly examined in the belief that
they would reveal the place where and the time when the paper was
manufactured. A Dutch author has said that these marks enable us to
determine when the books in which they are to be seen were printed. An
English author, [p309] who devoted the larger part of a folio volume
to a review of the paper-marks of the block-books, undertook to prove
from them that the _Speculum_ must have been printed before 1440.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
All known copies of the _Speculum_ contain a variety of dissimilar
paper-marks. Among them are the hand, the dolphin, the lily, the
unicorn, bulls’ heads, the letter P, the letter Y, the letters M A, the
spurred wheel, and the papal keys. Many of these marks are found in the
paper of the _Canticles_ and the _Bible of the Poor_. It is evident
that papers bearing so great a variety of paper-marks were not made at
one mill, and probably not in the same district. They were not made in
Holland, at least not during the first half of the fifteenth century,
for there were then no paper-mills in that country. The early records
of the treasury of the city of Haarlem, which are written on papers
containing paper-marks like those of the _Speculum_, show that the
paper was bought at Antwerp. Koning thinks that the _Speculum_, and the
block-books which are printed on the same paper, must have been printed
between 1420 and 1440; that the paper of the books was made in Brabant;
and that many of the paper-marks are the initials or arms of the house
of Burgundy. According to Koning, the letter P stands for Philip the
Good, Duke of Burgundy, who reigned from 1419 to 1467; the letter Y
stands for Ysabella of Portugal, who married Philip in 1430; M A stand
for Margaret, who was countess of Holland before that state was ceded
to Philip in 1433. These are very confident assumptions; they require a
careful examination.
A closer investigation has elicited these facts: the letter P has
been found in the accounts of the Count of Holland at the Hague for
the year 1387; paper bearing the same P was used by many printers of
the Netherlands, by one printer in Paris, and by several printers in
Germany in the last quarter of the fifteenth century. It is found in
paper made before and [p310] after the reign of Philip, and in cities
over which Philip never ruled. Paper containing the letter Y was used
in 1395, before Ysabella was born; it was in use for many years after
she was dead; paper with the letters M A joined to the arms of Bavaria
must have been made before her daughter Jacqueline was married, or,
in other words, before 1422, an earlier date than can be claimed for
any typographic book. The rude paper-mark of the bull’s head was in
frequent use between the years 1370 and 1523 in the Netherlands and in
Germany; it is found in the great Bible of Gutenberg. It is, therefore,
of no value in an inquiry concerning the date of any book in which
it has been found. The paper-mark of the lily was used even in the
fourteenth century; in the fifteenth it was as common as the bull’s
head. It is found in books that were printed in Cologne and in Paris,
in Utrecht, Gouda, Delft, Louvain and Deventer. Paper marked with the
unicorn was frequently used by the later Netherlandish printers. It did
not go out of use until 1620. It is found in so many shapes that it is
impossible to determine by it the date, or the printer, of any book on
which it was used.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
When we find that these marks were used in manuscripts before the
fifteenth century, and in printed books at the end of the fifteenth
century, we have to conclude that they are almost worthless as
evidence[166] in an inquiry concerning the printer of the _Speculum_.
Instead of proving that the _Speculum_ must have been printed between
1420 and 1440, they really show, so far as paper is connected with the
question, that the various editions of the book could have been printed
in the third, and perhaps in the fourth, quarter of the century. [p311]
We have a clearer indication of the period of the unknown printer
in the fragments of his work that have been discovered in the cover
linings of manuscript and printed books bound in the latter part of
the fifteenth century. It is obvious that the fragments are older than
the bindings, but it is not probable that they are much older, for no
fragment has been found in any book made before the year 1467. The
larger portion came from bindings made after 1470.
A copy of _William of Saliceto on the Health of the Body_ contains a
written memorandum or annotation to this effect: “This book was bought
by Lord Conrad, abbot of this place, XXXIIII [?], who died in the year
1474.” Conrad du Moulin was abbot between the years 1471 and 1474 only.
Another inscription in the same book states that it once belonged to
the Convent of St. James at Lille.[167] These inscriptions have been
cited to show that the unknown printer preceded every other typographic
printer in the Netherlands; but the precedence claimed is unimportant,
for we know that Ketelaer and De Leempt printed books at Utrecht in
1473.
In a public library at Haarlem is a manuscript copy of a version of
the _Speculum_ in the Dutch language—an admirably illustrated book of
290 leaves of vellum—which contains these inscriptions: “This book was
finished in the year of our Lord 1464, on the 16th day of July. . . .
An Ave Maria to God for the writer. . . . . This book belongs to Cayman
Janszoen of Zierikzee, living with the Carthusians near Utrecht.”[168]
Van der Linde says that the text of the two editions in Dutch described
on a previous page, is really an abridgment of the text of this Utrecht
manuscript of 1464.
This fact established, the claim that the Dutch editions of the book
were printed before this date becomes untenable. Nor is there positive
evidence that the book was printed anywhere out of Utrecht. Utrecht
was the residence of David, a prince of Burgundy and a notable patron
of literature; it was also the residence of the bishop of the diocese;
it had a [p312] gymnasium (as the high school of the time was then
designated) of some reputation; it was a favorable location for an
early printer; it was in Utrecht that the mutilated blocks of the
_Speculum_ were printed by John Veldener in 1483.
The book containing the _Eulogy_ on Pope Pius II, which must have
been printed after the year 1459, and the _Abecedarium_, with its
evenly spaced lines and its arrangement in octavo, are specimens of
the typography, not of the second, but of the third, quarter of the
fifteenth century. The Latin editions of the _Speculum_ were, no doubt,
printed before the Dutch editions; but when we consider the activity
of nearly all the early printers, and their frequent publication of
popular books, it is hazardous to concede to the Latin editions a
priority of more than five years. But Dutch bibliographers claim that
the earlier editions of the book were printed at least thirty-three,
perhaps fifty, years before the arrival of German printers in the
Netherlands. To support this claim, they refer to passages or
annotations in old manuscript books, which seem to show that printed
books were common in the Netherlands during the middle of the century.
These passages and annotations demand critical examination.
There is an entry in an old diary which, on its first reading, produces
the impression that printed books were sold in Bruges as ordinary
merchandise in the first half of the fifteenth century. This entry was
made by one Jean le Robert, abbot of St. Aubert in Cambray, then a city
of Burgundy.
_Item._ For a doctrinal _getté en molle_, which I sent to Bruges for
in the month of January, 1445, from Marquart, the first copyist at
Valenciennes, for Jacquart, twenty sous, currency of Tours. Little
Alexander had a similar copy for which the church paid.
_Item._ Procured at Arras a doctrinal for the instruction of the
Lord Gerard, which had been bought at Valenciennes, and which was
_jettez en molle_, and which cost twenty-four groots. He [Lord Gerard]
returned to me this doctrinal on All Saints’ Day, in the year ’51,
saying that he set no value on it, and that it was altogether faulty.
He had bought another copy in paper for ten patards.[169] [p313]
The importance of this document depends entirely upon the construction
of these words, _getté en molle_. Bernard says that they have always
been regarded in France as the equivalent of printing, or of printed
letters.[170] The literal meaning of the words is, _cast in mould_.
So construed, no words could more clearly define founded types. This
construction of the phrase would prove the existence of a typographic
printer in Bruges at least as early as 1445. The dry, matter-of-fact
way in which the words were used would show that books of this
description were not novelties; that they were sold in Arras and in
Bruges; that book-buyers were critical about their workmanship, and
knew how they were made.
This construction of the phrase has been keenly disputed. Van der
Linde says that the books were printed, but not from types—from blocks
that had been _getté en molle_, or put into form, or put into readable
shape, by the art of engraving. He cites authorities showing that the
word _molle_ or _mould_ had been applied to forms of manuscript.[171]
Dr. Van Meurs proposes a new construction—that _getté en molle_ has
nothing to do either with types or blocks. “Who does not perceive,
while reading the Cambray document, that in 1451, the term _getté en
molle_ is used in contradistinction to _in paper_? Do not these terms
make us rather think of books in loose sheets as opposed to sheets
that are bound? What can _molle_ mean but form? What is a book _getté
en molle_ but a book brought together in a form, or in a binding, in
[p314] opposition to another book in paper, or in a paper cover?” This
conjecture is reasonable. No one knows of an early edition of this book
from engraved blocks. As the seller of one copy was a copyist we may
conclude that both copies were written.
Equally unsatisfactory to an unprejudiced reader is the misconstruction
of the word printer in the list of the different arts or trades
embraced by the Confraternity of St. John the Baptist, at Bruges.
It has been inferred that the printers here noticed were printers
of types, and that typographic printing was done in 1454, when the
following list was written:[172]
Librariers en boeckverkopers, or booksellers.
Vinghettemakers, or painters in miniature.
Scrivers en boucscrivers, or scriveners and copyists of books.
Scoolemeesters, or schoolmasters.
Prentervercoopers, or image sellers.
Verlichters, or illuminators.
Prenters, or printers.
Boucbinders, or bookbinders.
Riemmakers, or curriers who prepare skins for parchment-makers.
Perkementmakers en fransynmakers, or makers of parchment.
Guispelsniders, or makers of decorations for bound books.
Scoolevrowen, or schoolmistresses.
Lettersnyders, or engravers of letters.
Scilders, or painters.
Drochscherrers, or shearers of cloth.
Beeldemakers, or makers of images.[173]
We have here a careful and, probably, a complete specification of
all trades contributing to the manufacture of books, but there is no
mention of type-makers nor of typographers. [p315]
In 1442 there was an organized society of book-makers in the city of
Antwerp, known as the Fraternity of Saint Luke. Like the association
of Bruges, it comprised every trade that contributed to the making
of books. The trade of printer is in their list, as it is in that of
the Confraternity of Saint John of Bruges; but in this list there is
no mention of the makers or printers of types. The printers of the
fraternities were, no doubt, the printers of playing cards, images and
block-books.[174]
The earliest notice of book-printing in the Netherlands is that of the
_Cologne Chronicle_ of 1499, which is to this effect:
This highly valuable art was discovered first of all in Germany, at
Mentz on the Rhine. And it is a great honor to the German nation that
such ingenious men are found among them. And it took place about the
year of our Lord 1440, and from this time until the year 1450, the
art, and what is connected with it, was being investigated. And in the
year of our Lord 1450 it was a golden year [jubilee], and they began
to print, and the first book they printed was the Bible in Latin; it
was printed in a large letter, resembling the letter with which at
present missals are printed. Although the art [as has been said] was
discovered at Mentz, in the manner as it is now generally used, yet
the first prefiguration [_die erste vurbyldung_] was found in Holland
[the Netherlands], in the _Donatuses_, which were printed there before
that time. And from these _Donatuses_ the beginning of the said art
was taken, and it was invented in a manner much more masterly and
subtile than this, and became more and more ingenious. One named
Omnibonus, wrote in a preface to the book called Quinctilianus, and
in some other books too, that a Walloon from France, named Nicol.
Jenson, discovered first of all this masterly art; but that is untrue,
for [p316] there are those still alive who testify that books were
printed at Venice before Nicol. Jenson came there and began to cut
and make letters. But the first inventor of printing was a citizen of
Mentz, born at Strasburg, and named Junker Johan Gutenberg. From Mentz
the art was introduced first of all into Cologne, then into Strasburg,
and afterward into Venice. The origin and progress of the art was
told me verbally by the honorable master Ulrich Zell, of Hanau, still
printer at Cologne, anno 1499, and by whom the said art came to
Cologne.[175]
Ulrich Zell is a candid and a competent witness, yet he narrates not
what he had seen, but what he had heard. He was but a mere child,
possibly unborn, when Gutenberg began to experiment with types at
Strasburg about the year 1436, or sixty-three years before this
chronicle was printed.
Zell’s statement is the earliest acknowledgment of the priority of
book-printing in Holland, but it is an incomplete and unsatisfactory
acknowledgment. He names Gutenberg, but he does not name the printer
of the _Donatus_. He specifies the period between 1440 and 1450 as
the time, and Mentz as the place, and the great _Latin Bible_ as
the first product, of the German invention; but he does not specify
the year nor the city in which the _Donatus_ was first printed. The
only specifications are—in Holland,[176] before Gutenberg, and by an
inferior method. It is apparent that Zell did not have exact knowledge
of the details of early Dutch printing, and that he could not describe
its origin nor its peculiarities with accuracy.
We cannot supplement Zell’s imperfect description of early Dutch
printing with knowledge or with inferences that might [p317] be
derived from a critical examination of the Dutch _Donatuses_. These
books, described by him as the prefiguration of typography, have been
destroyed. There is no known copy of the _Donatus_, neither typographic
nor xylographic, which can be attributed to a period before that of
Gutenberg’s first experiments in Strasburg. The early typographic
copies have the full-spaced lines, which were not in use before 1460 in
any book; the xylographic copies are about as old, and, for the most
part, are imitations of the typographic editions. Guided by these facts
we have to conclude that it is not probable that the _Donatuses_ of
Zell were printed from types.
The frequent repetition of the statement that _the_ art was invented
in Germany shows there was no confusion in the mind of the writer
concerning the relative importance of the German and the Dutch method
of printing. He clearly perceived, although he obscurely described,
two distinct methods of book-printing: the first, the method used
for printing the _Donatus_, which method was imperfect and but a
prefiguration; the second, the method that was more masterly and
subtile, the method that now is used. The second method was, without
doubt, the making of accurate types in metal moulds, and the printing
of great books. It was not the second invention, but the invention,
inasmuch as it was the only invention that had a practical value. The
_Donatus_ was printed, but it was not printed by _the art_. It was _the
art as it is now used_, the only practical art of making types and
books, of which Gutenberg was the first inventor.
According to German historians, the first method was xylography.
They say that it was the sight of some lost or now unknown copy of
an engraved _Donatus_, which gave to Gutenberg the suggestion of the
more subtile invention of movable types; that this _Donatus_ was not
taken as a model for imitation—it served only as the suggestion of an
entirely new method. Dutch historians say that it is unreasonable to
assume that this _Donatus_ was engraved on wood. There is force in the
argument that it is not probable that Ulrich Zell, [p318] the printer,
who furnished the writer of the chronicle with his facts, and who,
as a German, was proud that typography was a German invention, would
have ascribed the first rude practice of printing to Holland, if this
practice had been nothing but xylography. It cannot be supposed that
Gutenberg was so ignorant of the productions of German formschneiders
that he believed xylographic printing was done only in Holland. They
say that the suggestive _Donatus_ which was made in Holland should have
been a typographic book, printed as the _Speculum_ was printed, from
types founded by an inferior method—a method that was never imitated.
It will be seen that the statement of the Cologne chronicler is so
ambiguous that it can be wrested to the benefit of either side of the
question. It can be used to support the hypothesis that there were two
inventions of typography—one Dutch, one German—one of little and the
other of great merit—both alike in theory, but unlike in process and
in result. But it is not worth while to consider the probability of a
very early invention of typography in Holland until we can find the
evidences which will compensate for the deficiencies of Zell.
This evidence is wanting. The statement attributed to Ulrich Zell is
the only acknowledgment made by any writer, Dutch or German, during the
fifteenth century. In view of the pretensions subsequently made, the
silence of the earliest Dutch writers and printers seems unaccountable.
Many of the printers were learned and patriotic men, proud of their art
and of their country, but in none of their books do we find any claim
for Holland as the birthplace of typography. Nor was this claim made by
any of the great men of Holland. Erasmus, the scholar, the guest and
corrector of the press for John Froben, the friend and correspondent
of Thierry Martens, first scholarly printer in the Netherlands, should
have known something of the introduction of typography in his native
country; but the only mention that he made of the origin of the art
was to attribute its invention to Germany. Before the year 1480, three
chronicles of the events of the century had been [p319] printed in
Holland, but in none of them is any notice made of early printing in
Holland. The printers of Holland who followed their business in other
cities never claimed Haarlem as the birthplace of typography. Before
the year 1500, there were Dutch printers who put on record, in imprints
attached to their books,[177] their belief in the statement that
printing had been invented in Germany. It does not appear that there
was then any knowledge of the legend of Haarlem.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the types of Jacob Bellaert.
[From Holtrop.]]
At this point it may be proper to record what is exactly known about
the old printing offices of this town. The first Haarlem book with a
printed date is of the year 1483. It is a little religious book that
contains thirty-two wood-cuts and a peculiar face of type that had been
used the year before by one Gerard Leeu of Gouda. The printer’s name is
not given, but a colophon at the end of the book distinctly says that
it was printed at “haerlem in hollant.” From the same press, by the
same printer, and with the same types, seven other books were printed
before the year 1486. In one of these books, dated 1484, is printed the
name of the printer, Jacob Bellaert of Zierikzee. There is no evidence
that he had been taught typography in Haarlem, nor that he succeeded
to any old printing office in that town. Bellaert was from Zierikzee;
his types and his wood-cuts had been procured from Gerard Leeu of
Gouda. The types are of a condensed form, superior to those of the
_Speculum_, fairly lined, obviously cast in moulds [p320] of metal,
entirely unlike those of the unknown printer. The engravings have many
peculiarities of design and cut which are not to be found in any known
block-book.
Jan Andrieszoon was the second printer of Haarlem. In 1485 he opened
a printing office with a stock of old and worn types, printed seven
books, four with and three without a date. There is no evidence
whatever that connects him or his works with the unknown printer. The
competition of two rival printers in a small town produced the usual
result. As no book can be found with the imprint of either printer
after 1486, we have to infer that the printers closed their offices and
abandoned typography.
The imprint of Haarlem does not again appear on any book before 1507.
The name of the third printer is supposed to be Hasback, who, in 1506,
had an office in Amsterdam, which he removed to Haarlem. His enterprise
was unsuccessful, for no book of a later date can be attributed to him.
There is neither record nor tradition of any typographic printer in
Haarlem between the years 1507 and 1561. The account books of the
treasury of the town contain entries which show that its typographic
work was done at Leyden. Coornhert and Van Zuren, “sworn book-printers
at Haarlem,” were also unsuccessful, for we have no evidences of their
work after the year 1562.
In 1581, Anthonis Ketel was in possession of a printing office in
Haarlem, but typography cannot be considered as securely established in
that town before 1587, in which year one Gillis Rooman began to print.
He continued to work as printer until 1611, when he was succeeded by
Adrien Rooman.
There is nothing in this list of unsuccessful printers which assures
us that typography had been invented or cherished in Haarlem. Nor is
there even any recorded evidence of an early printing of block-books.
There was, at an early date, in Haarlem a guild composed of painters,
goldsmiths, sculptors, and of other artisans; but we can find no
engraver on wood, no _prenter_ or _figuersnyder_ among the members.
“The harvest [p321] of history,” writes Dr. Van der Linde, concerning
Haarlem, “on the field of typography may be scanty; on the field of
xylography it does not yield anything.”
This recital of the names and the fortunes of the earlier printers
of Haarlem is not altogether irrelevant; it furnishes a proper
introduction to the legend of Haarlem. The first printer in Haarlem,
Jacob Bellaert, whose art must have been a wonder to simple people,
closed his office after two or three years of unsuccessful labor, and
probably went to some other place. The printers who followed him at
long intervals were equally unsuccessful. Van der Linde thinks that
it is around the first printing office of Haarlem that the vague
traditions have clustered.
In none of the notices of early Netherlandish printing do we find
any mention of Coster of Haarlem, or any description of printing by
types. There is extant, however, an allusion, which cannot be passed
by unnoticed, to the printed work of one Brito of Bruges, who, about
1481, printed a little book entitled _The Book of Doctrine for the
Instruction of Christians_. The first page of this book says that it
is a copy of two great tablets in the Church of Our Lady of Terouanne;
the last page has this inscription in six lines of faulty Latin rhyme:
[p322]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of John Brito.[178]
[From Holtrop.]]
Brito was a member of the Fraternity of Saint John the Baptist,
between the years 1454 and 1494, but he was not industrious as a
printer, for Campbell can attribute but four books to him. Van
Praet[179] says that he was engaged by the bishop of the church to
paint or to affix this _Book of Doctrine_ on the great tablets, which
he did by the wonderful art of stenciling, with the very astonishing
instruments of perforated letters, nobody having instructed him.
Proud of his work, he attached this inscription. When he printed
the composition in the form of a book he repeated the inscription.
It is not possible that Brito intended to convey the notion that he
had invented typography. So far from inventing types, Brito did not
even make the types that he used in this book. They are the types of
Veldener of Utrecht.[180]
From the early records we can glean nothing which will demonstrate that
typography was practised in any part of the Netherlands before 1472.
The workmanship of all known Netherlandish printers after this date
is of every degree of merit and of demerit, but in all their books
it shows the impressions of types founded in moulds of hard metal,
and properly printed on a press, on both sides of the paper, and in
black ink. As it is a style of workmanship entirely unlike that of the
unknown printer, it is a proper inference that typography came into the
Netherlands, as it did into all other countries, through the pupils and
by the method of Gutenberg.
The table annexed will show how late was the beginning of typography in
the Netherlands. It also shows that printing “by the art that is now
used,” was introduced almost simultaneously in three different towns of
the Netherlands. In the year 1473, John of Westphalia was first printer
at Alost; [p324] the partners Ketelaer and De Leempt were at Utrecht;
and Veldener was at Louvain. Ketelaer and De Leempt were Netherlanders,
but there is no evidence to confirm the conjecture that they had been
instructed by the unknown printer. Veldener of Wurtzburg, John of
Westphalia, Colard Mansion, William Caxton, Arnold Ter Hoorne, Conrad
of Westphalia, Richard Paffroed, Conrad Braem, and Hermann of Nassau
were graduates from printing offices at Cologne.[181] It is possible
that Thierry Martens also was taught typography in the same city. We
have many evidences that Cologne was the school of typography for the
Netherlands.
[Illustration:
THE TOWNS AND CITIES OF THE NETHERLANDS IN WHICH PRINTING OFFICES WERE
ESTABLISHED DURING THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.
[From Holtrop.]
Utrecht Nicholas Ketelaer, Gerard de Leempt, 1473–1474.
William Hees 1475.
John Veldener 1478–1481.
Alost John of Westphalia 1473–1474.
Thierry Martens 1474–1490.
Louvain John Veldener 1473–1477.
John of Westphalia 1474–1496.
Conrad Braem 1475–1481.
Conrad of Westphalia 1476.
Hermann of Nassau, Rud. Loeffs, 1483.
Egidius van der Heerstraten 1485–1488.
Louis de Ravescot 1488.
Thierry Martens 1498–1500.
Brussels Brotherhood of the Life-in-Common, 1476–1487.
Gouda Gerard Leeu 1477–1484.
Godfrey de Os 1486.
Godfrey de Ghemen
Unnamed Printer 1486.
Bruges Colard Mansion 1475–1484.
John Brito
Deventer Richard Paffroed 1477–1500.
Jacques de Breda 1485–1500.
Delft Jacob Jacobzoon 1477–1479.
J. Van der Meer 1480–1487.
Unnamed Printer 1488–1494.
St. Maartensdyk Werrecoren 1478.
Nimeguen Gerard Leempt 1479.
Zwoll Unknown Printer 1479.
Peter von Os 1480–1500.
Audenarde Arn. l’Empereur 1480–1482.
Hasselt Pereg. Bermentlo 1480–1481.
Antwerp Matt. Van der Goes 1482–1491.
Gerard Leeu 1484–1493.
Thierry Martens 1493–1497.
Leyden Henry Henry 1483–1484.
Gand Arnold l’Empereur 1483–1489.
Culenburg John Veldener 1483–1484.
Bois-le-Duc Gerard Leempt 1484–1487.
Schoonhoven Brotherhood 1495–1500.
Schiedam Unnamed Printer 1498–1500.
Haarlem Jacob Bellaert 1483–1486.]
We have no evidences that the unknown printer acquired his poor
knowledge of typography through any other channel. His unequal
workmanship is an indication that his instruction was imperfect;
the neat presswork of his wood-cuts is that of an expert printer of
block-books, who, no doubt, had abundant practice in this field before
he undertook to print with types; the rudeness of his typographic
work is that of one who had never received regular instruction in
typography. It is possible that he received only a verbal explanation
of the processes of the art,[182] and that he tried, unaided, to
graft the new into the old method. His workmanship seems to be that
of an imitator, a curious mixture of skill and of ignorance, but its
inferiority to the workmanship of other printers of his time is not
proof of its greater age or of his originality; it proves only his
imperfect instruction or greater incapacity. So far from showing
the first steps in an immature invention, his books truly show the
degradation of a perfect method. They show the ignorance of a badly
taught typographic printer, and [p325] the prejudices of an old
block-printer who had adopted the newer method with reluctance. We have
seen that Walther’s edition of the _Bible of the Poor_ is every way
inferior to the first edition, and have drawn from it the conclusion
that there was a wonderful degradation of the art of engraving on wood.
When we establish a comparison between the great _Bible_ of Gutenberg
and the _Speculum_ of the unknown printer we have similar premises,
and have to form the similar conclusion, that the arts do not always
improve with age, and that the pupil or the imitator is often inferior
to the master.
The evidences in favor of the priority of the unknown printer are
very slight. It may be conceded that he was the first printer of the
Netherlands, but it has not been proved, nor is it probable, that he
printed with types earlier than the year 1463. Still more improbable
is the assumption that he was an independent inventor of printing. We
have to judge of the merits of this pretended invention as we do of
every other—by its fruits. It had no fruit. The facts that this unknown
printer made no mark on his age—that he left no work worthy of his
alleged invention—that neither he nor his printed work was noticed by
any of the chroniclers of his day—that he had no pupils, no successors,
no imitators—should be sufficient to prove that he was not an inventor
but an imitator.
By many authors the question of his possible priority has been decided,
not from an examination of known and proved facts, but from the
assertions of prejudiced and untrustworthy witnesses. The frequent
presentation of the statement of the _Cologne Chronicle_, and of the
legends that find their support in it, has not been without effect.
There is a general belief in the tradition that types were first made
in Haarlem by Coster, and that the German method was the outgrowth of
the Dutch method. This proposition has been repeated so frequently and
so confidently that it becomes necessary to give a critical examination
to the legend of printing in Haarlem.
[p326]
XVII
The Legend of Loureus Janszoon Coster.
Coornhert’s Notice of Printing in Haarlem . . . Notice by Van Zuren
. . . By Guicciardini . . . The Statement of Junius . . . Fac-simile
of Scriverius’s Portrait of Coster . . . Sketch of Junius’s life and
Works . . . Examination of his Statement . . . Vagueness of the Date
. . . Junius’s Story is Incredible . . . Wood Types could not be Used
. . . Metal Types made too soon . . . This story an Imitation of a
Spurious German Story . . . Fust was not the Thief . . . Absurdity
of the Accusation . . . Evidence of Cornelis . . . Our knowledge of
Cornelis from other Sources . . . Cornelis not an Eye-Witness . . .
Talesius not a Satisfactory Witness . . . Disappearance of the Art
more Wonderful than its Invention . . . Legend Cherished for Patriotic
Reasons . . . Its Growth and its Exaggerations.
* * * * *
He who is satisfied, as regards a fact like that of the invention of
typography, with the simple assertion of people who talk of things
which are said to have happened more than a century before their time,
is destitute of scientific morality: he is ignorant of the passion of
truth; in short, he belongs to the plebeians. We have not only the
right to reject the fable fabricated by Junius, . . . but as honest
men we are bound to do it.
_Van der Linde._
* * * * *
In the year 1561, Jan Van Zuren and Dierick Coornhert, with other
partners, set up a printing office in Haarlem. Van Zuren was a native
and burgomaster of the town of Amsterdam; Coornhert, who was a notary
and an engraver, is said to have been the instructor of the famous
engraver Goltzius. Their first book was an edition of _Cicero de
Officiis_, to which they prefixed the following quaint dedication:
To the burgomaster, sheriffs and councilors of the town of Haarlem, D.
V. Coornhert wishes as his honorable and commanding masters, salvation
to soul and body.
“I was often told, in good faith, honorable, wise, and prudent
gentlemen, that the useful art of printing books was invented first of
all here at Haarlem, although in a very crude way, as it is easier to
improve on an invention than to invent; which art having been [p327]
brought to Mentz by an unfaithful servant, was very much improved
there, whereby this town, on account of its first having spread it,
gained such a reputation for the invention of this art, that our
fellow-citizens find very little credence when they ascribe this honor
to the true inventor, as it is believed by many here on incontestable
information, and is undoubtedly known to the elder citizens. Nor am
I ignorant that this fame of Mentz has taken so deeply root in the
opinion of all, by the heedless carelessness of our forefathers, that
no proof, however apparent, however clear, however blameless it may
be, would be capable of removing this inveterate impression from the
hearts of the people. But—for truth is no less truth when known only
to a few, and because I implicitly believe what I have said before, on
account of the trustworthy evidence of very old, dignified, and grey
heads, who often told me not only the family of the inventor, but also
his name and surname, and explained the first crude way of printing,
and pointed with their finger the house of the first printer out to
me—I could not help mentioning this in few words, not as an envier
of another’s glory, but as a lover of truth, and to the promotion of
the honor of this town; which proper and just ambition seems to have
also been the cause for the re-establishment and recommencement of
this printing office (as a shoot from the root of an old tree). For
it often happened, when the citizens talked to each other about this
case, that they complained that others enjoyed this glory unjustly,
and (as they said) without anybody contradicting them, because no one
exercised printing in this town.”[183]
The claim of Haarlem to the invention of printing is confidently
stated, but Coornhert has neglected to give the name or describe the
process of the inventor, to fix the date of the invention, or to
specify any of its products. He and his venerable informants, the
“honorable, wise and prudent gentlemen,” knew all these matters, but
Coornhert prudently kept silence. It is worthy of notice that Coornhert
admits that, in 1561, “the fame of Mentz” had taken so deep a root in
the minds of many people that no proof could remove it.
A full notice of the details of early printing might have been
considered out of place in the preface to a classic text book, but
it would have been pertinent in a “_Dialogue on the First Invention
of the Typographic Art_,” which was the title of a book said to have
been written by Jan Van Zuren. Of [p328] this dialogue nothing is
known but the introduction. Whether the author grew weary of his task,
and abandoned it before completion, or whether the manuscript was
destroyed, as is alleged, during the siege of Haarlem in 1573, cannot
now be ascertained. All we know of this manuscript is through Peter
Scriverius, who, diligently gleaning every scrap of history that favors
the Haarlem invention, has preserved the preface. It is too long and
rambling for a literal translation; this is the substance, which Van
Zuren approached with great delicacy:
He does not wish to deprive Mentz of its rightful honors, but he will
see that the honors of Haarlem are not altogether lost. The town of
Mentz, so justly lauded, first introduced this art, received from us,
in public life. The first crude foundations of this excellent art were
laid in our town of Haarlem. Here the art of printing was born. No
doubt it was here carefully cultivated and improved; here it remained
during many years, until at last it accompanied a foreigner and made,
at last, its public appearance at Mentz.
Here again is a noticeable absence of names, dates, books, evidences
and authorities.[184] From beginning to end there is nothing in this
statement but naked assertion.
One fact of real value may be gleaned from the preface of Van Zuren
and the dedication of Coornhert. There was even then in Haarlem a
strong prejudice against Mentz; there was a wavering belief among some
of the townsfolk that printing had been invented in Haarlem, and that
the pretension of [p329] Mentz was unfounded. Whether this prejudice
had been fostered by the obscure language of Zell, or whether it took
its rise in the conceit of the simple people of the town, who may have
thought that Ballaert, the first printer at Haarlem, was also the first
printer in the world, cannot now be ascertained. There was a prejudice,
and Van Zuren and Coornhert thought that it would be to their interest
as printers to propitiate it.
The publication of these mysterious allusions to an early printer
in Haarlem strengthened the belief of Hollanders in the legend. It
was imposed as veritable history on intelligent foreigners who were
unable to disprove it. Luigi Guicciardini, a Florentine nobleman, for
many years resident of Antwerp, and who there wrote and published, in
1567, a _Description of the Low Countries_, was the first author of
distinction who gave a world-wide publicity to the legend. In his book
he says:
According to the common tradition of the inhabitants and the
assertion of other natives of Holland, as well as the testimony of
certain authors and records, it appears that the art of printing and
stamping letters and characters on paper in the manner now used,
was first invented in this place [Haarlem]. But the author of the
invention happening to die before the art was brought to perfection
and had acquired repute, his servant, they say, went to reside at
Mentz, where, giving proofs of his knowledge in that science, he was
joyfully received, and where, having applied himself to the business
with unremitting diligence, it became at length generally known, and
was brought to entire perfection, in consequence of which the fame
afterward spread abroad and became general that the art and science of
printing originated in that city. What is really the truth I am not
able, nor will I take upon me to decide, it sufficing me to have said
these few words that I might not be guilty of injustice toward this
town and this country.[185]
The story is told as it had been heard, without comment, and without
hearty belief. It will be noticed that no really important fact has
been added to supplement the previous story. We are still in the
dark as to the name of the printer, the date of the invention, and
the titles of his books. The authors mentioned by Guicciardini were
probably Coornhert [p330] and Van Zuren; the inhabitants who gave him
information were probably the same men who had previously given it to
these printers. Guicciardini’s story differs from theirs in one point
only. His description of the translation of typography from Haarlem to
Mentz does not impute dishonesty to the workman who carried it thither.
The insinuated accusation of theft was not repeated by the scrupulous
Italian.
Guicciardini’s book, which was of marked merit, was published in an age
of credulity. It was translated and reprinted in many languages. This
legend of an unnamed inventor at Haarlem was taken up by other writers.
It was published as valid history by George Braunius of Cologne, in
his geography, dated 1570–88; by Michael Eytzinger of Cologne, in a
book on the Netherlands, dated 1584; by Matthew Quade of Cologne,
in a compend of history and geography dated 1600; by Noel Conti of
Venice, in a universal history, dated 1572. These authors have been
frequently quoted as men who had examined and confirmed the legend; but
it is obvious that they copied the statements of Guicciardini without
investigation. Their approval of the legend must be considered as an
exhibition of credulity rather than of knowledge.
The specification of the name of the alleged proto-typographer of
Haarlem was made for the first time in a book now known as _Batavia_,
which was published in 1588, and of which Hadrianus Junius or Adrien de
Jonghe was the author. The story of the invention, as here related, is
far from complete, but it is positive and definite: it gives the time,
the place, the book and the man. It can be fairly presented only in an
unabridged translation of the author’s words:
About one hundred and twenty-eight years ago, there dwelt in a house
of some magnificence (as may be verified by inspection, for it stands
intact to this day) in Haarlem, near to the market, and opposite the
royal palace, Laurentius Joannes, surnamed Æditus or Custos, by reason
of this lucrative and honorable office, which by hereditary right
appertained to the distinguished family of this name. To this man
should revert the wrested honor of the invention of the typographic
art, which has been wrongfully enjoyed by others. A just judgment
[p331] should give to him before all others, the laurel which he has
deserved as the most successful contestant.
When strolling in the woods near the city, as citizens who enjoyed
ease were accustomed to do after dinner and on holidays, it happened
that he undertook as an experiment to fashion the bark of a beech tree
in the form of letters. The letters so made he impressed the reverse
way, consecutively, upon a leaf of paper, in little lines of one
kind and another, and the kindness of his nature induced him to give
them, as a keepsake, to the grandchildren of his son-in-law [Thomas
Pieterzoon]. He had succeeded so happily in this that he aspired to
greater things, as became a man of cultivated and enlarged capacities.
By the aid of his son-in-law, Thomas Pieterzoon, to whom were left
four children, most of whom attained the dignity of burgomaster (I
say this that all the world may know that this art was invented in a
reputable and honorable family, and not among plebeians), he invented,
first of all, an ink thicker and more viscid than that of the scribes,
for he found that the common ink spread or blotted. Thereupon he made,
by the addition of letters, explanations for pictures engraved on wood.
Of this kind of printing I myself have seen some stamped block-books,
the first essays of the art, printed on one side only, with the
printed pages facing each other, and not upon both sides of the leaf.
Among them was a book in the vernacular, written by an unknown author,
bearing the title of _Spieghel onzer behoudenis_ [the edition in Dutch
of the _Speculum Salutis_]. This book was among the _a b c s_ of the
art—for an art is never perfected at its inception—and the blank sides
of the leaf were united by paste, to hide the uncouthness of the
unprinted pages. He subsequently changed the beech-wood letters for
those of lead, and these again for letters of tin, because tin was
a less flexible material, harder, and more durable. To this day may
be seen in the very house itself, looking over on the market-place
as I have said (inhabited afterward by his great-grandchild, Gerrit
Thomaszoon, who departed this life but a few years since, and whom I
mention only to honor), some very old wine flagons, which were made
from the melting down of the remnants of these very types.
The new invention met with favor from the public, as it deserved, and
the new merchandise, never before seen, attracted purchasers from
every direction, and produced abundant profit. As the admiration of
the art increased, the work increased. He added assistants to his
band of workmen; and here may be found the cause of his troubles.
Among these workmen was a certain John. Whether or not, as suspicion
alleges, he was Faust[186]—inauspicious name for one who was [p332]
equally unfortunate and unfaithful to his master—or whether he was
another of the same name, I shall not trouble myself to ascertain—for,
I am unwilling to disturb the _shades_ of the dead, inasmuch as
_they_[187] must have suffered from the reproaches of conscience
as long as _they_ lived. _This_ man, although bound by oath to
[preserving the secrets of] the typographic art, when he knew himself
to be perfectly skilled in the operations of type-setting, in the
knowledge of type-founding, and in every other detail appertaining
to the work, seized the first favorable opportunity—and he could not
have found a time more favorable, for it was on the night of the
anniversary of the nativity of Christ, when all, without distinction,
are accustomed to assist at divine service—and flew into the closet
of the types, and packed up the instruments used in making them that
belonged to his master, and which had been made with his own hands,
and immediately after slunk away from the house with the thief. He
went first to Amsterdam, thence to Cologne, and finally regained
Mentz, as it were to an altar of safety so it is said, and as if
beyond all possibility of a recapture, where, having opened his
office, he reaped an abundant reward from the fruits of his theft.
That is to say, within the space of a year, or about 1442, it is well
known that he published by the aid of the same types which Laurentius
had used in Haarlem, the _Doctrinal_ of Alexander Gallus, the most
popular grammar then in use, and also the _Treatises_ of Peter of
Spain, which were his first publications.
These are the facts. Nearly all of them are from old men worthy of
belief, who, each in turn, have accepted and transmitted them, as
they would pass a lighted torch from hand to hand. I knew these facts
long time ago, and have positive knowledge from other sources which
have attested and confirmed them. I remember that Nicholas Gallius,
the preceptor of my boyhood, a man of tenacious memory, and venerable
with gray hairs, narrated these circumstances to me. He, when a boy,
had more than once heard Cornelis, an old bookbinder and an under
workman in the same printing office, when not an octogenarian and
bowed down with years, recite all these details as he had received
them from his master, embracing the inception of the enterprise,
the growth and cultivation of the rude art, and other transactions
connected therewith. But as often as he made mention of the theft, he
involuntarily would burst into tears at the recollection of the infamy
of the sequel; and then the anger of the old man [p334] would flash
up, as he thought of the glory of the invention that had been stolen
with the other theft; and he wished, if his life had been spared,
that he might have been able to set forth the thief in irons, ready
to be pronounced a subject for the executioner; and then again he was
wont to consign his sacrilegious head to the direst punishment, and
to curse and execrate the nights which he had passed upon the same
bed for many months with that villain. These details do not disagree
with the words of Quirinius Talesius, burgomaster; for I acknowledge
that a long time ago I received nearly the same story from him as was
received from the mouth of the bookbinder.[188]
[Illustration: Scriverius’ Portrait of Coster.
[From Moxon.]]
The story of Junius is the real foundation of the modern legend of
Haarlem. All that had been written before is of little value; all that
has been written since is but in explanation of its obscurer features.
Before any criticism is given [p335] to this important document, the
capability and credibility of the learned author of _Batavia_ should be
considered.
The learning of Junius cannot be questioned; but Junius must be judged
not by his dead reputation, but by his living performance. _Batavia_,
although written in unexceptionable classical Latin, is not a valuable,
nor even a mediocre book. The author was not above the pedantry and
the bad taste of his age. His book is full of classical allusions,
lugged in, not to illustrate the subject, but to display the author’s
omnivorous reading;[189] his style is rhetorical, and his arrangement
of facts is bewildering. These faults would be overlooked, if we could
be sure of his so-called facts; but one cannot read many pages of
_Batavia_ without being convinced of the credulity of the author, and
of the thorough untrustworthiness of many of his [p336] descriptions.
His defenders must confess that the book would have been of higher
authority, if he had been more chary of rhetoric and more exact in
description.[190]
The fixing of the period in which the inventor lived seems to have
been made with a studied carelessness and intended obscurity. If
we deduct the 128 years from the year 1568, the year in which the
manuscript of _Batavia_ was completed, we have the date 1440. In this
year Coster lived. When he was born, when he died, and how long he had
been occupied with the practice of printing, is not related. If we
infer that Junius intended that this year 1440 should be considered as
the year of Coster’s death, the inference is purely conjectural. He
does not say so. It may be supposed, but it is not said, that Coster
printed with types before 1440. Whatever may have been the intention
of Junius, the year 1440 was at first accepted by the authorities of
Haarlem as the true date of the [p337] invention of typography.[191]
It was thought that the fixing of the invention within this year would
sufficiently establish the priority of Coster, for the year 1442 was
the date then assigned to the rival invention in Germany. The authority
of Junius for the year 1440 was, no doubt, a pedigree of the Coster
family, of which he makes no mention.
There are troublesome entanglements connected with this date of
1440. Subsequent defenders of the legend, who tried to supply the
deficiencies and correct the errors of Junius, made discoveries which
compelled them to acknowledge that Lourens Janszoon (supposed by them
to be Lourens Janszoon Coster) died in the year 1439. If he died in
1439, and if we believe that the invention was made in 1440, then
he did his typographic work in the year after his death.[192] The
absurdity of this date was clearly perceived when it was afterward
discovered that Gutenberg had been engaged as early as 1436 in
experiments with printing. To preserve the appearance of probability,
the date of the invention was removed to 1423, so as to allow Coster
time for experiment and for the perfection of his invention.
The name of the inventor is as uncertain as the date of the invention.
Junius names him Laurentius Johannes, surnamed Ædituus, or Custos. In
the pedigree, the name was [p338] written Lourens Janssoens Coster.
Surnames were not then in common use; the son was identified through
a name which described him in words as the son of his father. Lourens
Janssoen Coster is literally, Lourens, son of John, the keeper, or the
sexton.[193] He is most widely known in typographical literature by the
name of Coster.
By the record, it appears that Coster was both a printer and a
publisher. He cut blocks and made types, he mixed printing inks,
he printed books, he employed many workmen, he had an honorable
reputation as a printer, he reaped abundant profit from the sale of
his merchandise. These statements are inconsistent with the eulogy
which represents him as an idle man who experimented with types for
amusement.[194]
That Coster knew nothing whatever about printing when he took his
walk in the wood may be properly inferred from a careful reading of
the story. His experiments with bark seem to have surprised and amused
him as much as they did his [p339] grandchildren. There is nothing
unreasonable in this part of the legend, but faith fails us when
Junius says that Coster printed his book with types of wood.[195] The
statement must be put aside as entirely unworthy of belief, for it has
been shown that types of wood are impracticable, and that the types of
every known edition of the _Speculum_ were made of founded metal.
No part of Junius’s statement is more incredible than his description
of the ease with which Coster solved the problem of typography.
Coster knew nothing of printing; but having carved a few letters on
bark, and having cherished the idea that books could be printed from
single types, he undertook to make—not types, but wood-cuts. Eager to
realize his idea of typography, he began work with a formidable task
of engraving. Here is an absurdity. To design, engrave, and print the
illustrations of the _Speculum_ was a task almost as great as that
of making the types. If the engravings were not in the possession of
Coster before he made this experiment (and Junius does not authorize
this hypothesis), it is not possible that he could have added to his
task by attempting so many large wood-cuts. What follows is equally
incredible. He passed from the work of cutting letters and pictures to
that of making types without hesitation or experimentation; [p340] he
struck out the correct method of making the types at the outset. His
only mistake with types was in the selection of materials; wood was
laid aside for lead, and tin supplanted lead; his greatest difficulty
was encountered in the manufacture of the ink. If this story is true,
then typography was invented through inspiration, for its origin was
unlike that of all great mechanical inventions.
Junius describes this pretended invention of typography, not as he
knew it was done, but as he thought it should have been done. Ignorant
of the necessity for that strict accuracy of body, which is the vital
principle of typography, and which can be secured only by the most
ingenious mechanism, he thought, as thousands have thought, that the
merit of the invention consisted in the conception of the idea. The
construction of the mechanism he has skipped over as a little matter
of mechanical detail entirely unworthy of notice. He tells us nothing
about it. He shows the extent of his reading and the weakness of his
judgment, by treading in the footsteps of German authors who attempted
to describe the German invention of typography, not from positive
knowledge, but through the exercise of a lively imagination. He makes
Coster follow the road which they say was taken by Gutenberg: first,
the types of wood; then, engraved letters on blocks of wood; next,
types of lead; lastly, types of tin.[196]
The artful insinuation that John Fust was the false workman is
discreditable. Junius does not unequivocally say that Fust was the
thief, but his language authorizes the calumny. That John Fust of Mentz
could not have stolen the implements of Coster will be positively
established by records of [p341] the highest authority. The Dutch
historians of typography who defend the story of Junius, say that
Junius did not know the name of the real thief, but that the name of
Fust is properly inserted, because Fust was honored as the inventor of
typography in Mentz; that there was, probably, a complicity between
Fust and the false workman, and that Fust was, for that reason,
properly mentioned as the real offender.[197]
The determination of Junius to fasten this theft on Fust is shown in
his statement that the thief regained or returned to Mentz, as to “the
altar of safety.” At that time Paris, Rome and Venice had more schools
and scholars, more book-readers and buyers than Mentz, and offered
greater inducements for the founding of a printing office. These were
the cities to which printers from Mentz subsequently went, and to
which a thievish printer from Haarlem should have gone. But Junius
finds it necessary to send him to Mentz to explain the introduction of
typography in Germany.
The charge of theft is not corroborated by the discoveries of
bibliographers. The two books which Junius says were printed in Mentz
in 1442, with the types of Coster, cannot be traced to Mentz. Fragments
of a copy of the _Doctrinal_ of Alexander Gallus, the work of some
unknown printer, have been found, not in Mentz, but in the Netherlands.
The types [p342] of this book resemble those of the _Speculum_, but
they are sufficiently unlike to establish the fact that they could not
have been cast from the matrices used for the _Speculum_. This edition
of the _Doctrinal_ could not have been printed at Mentz.
The zealous indignation of Cornelis does not compensate us for his
mysterious concealment of the name of the thief.[198] His evidence is
extremely unsatisfactory. Cornelis, who was in the employ of Coster
when the theft was made, who knew the process, who bound the printed
work, who was an old resident of Haarlem, who had business relations
with every printer that succeeded Coster, of all men, should have been
the one most [p343] competent to describe the work of Coster. But
the information that he has furnished through Junius is ridiculously
trivial, scanty as to facts and dates, inconsistent, and, in some
points, entirely untrue.
Before we accept all that Junius has said about Cornelis, it will be
well to learn what we can about him from other sources. The first entry
in an account book of the cathedral of Haarlem for the year 1474 is to
this effect: “Item. . . . I have paid to Cornelis, the binder,[199] six
Rhine florins for binding books.” Similar items, describing Cornelis
as a bookbinder, are found in similar account books between the years
1485 and 1515. Payments were also recorded to Cornelis for coloring the
initial letters of the “bulls of the indulgences.” After the year 1515
his name appears no longer as a bookbinder; in 1517 another binder did
the work of the church. Seiz mentions an old book, printed by Jacob
Bellaert of Haarlem in 1485, on the last leaf of which was written:
“Bought at Haarlem in the Cruysstraet, of Cornelis the bookbinder,
in May, 1492.” The register for the year 1522 contains this entry:
“Cornelis the bookbinder was buried in the church. For the making
of his grave, twenty pence.” There can be no doubt that there was a
bookbinder Cornelis at Haarlem, and that the Cornelis of Junius is the
Cornelis of the church record. The dates in these records will enable
us to test the accuracy of one portion of the chronology of the legend.
Junius said that Cornelis told his story before he was an octogenarian.
Eighty years might properly be considered as the limit of his life,
which, according to the record, ended in 1522. If, to ascertain the
date of the birth of Cornelis, we deduct eighty years from 1522, the
result would show that he must have been born in 1442. But this was at
least one year, perhaps two years, after the alleged theft. If Cornelis
lived to the age of ninety years, the allowance of ten years more
would not reconcile the discrepancy. Cornelis would have [p344] been
a child of eight years of age; but the story of Junius requires, not a
child, nor even a boy, but a man, an under-workman, the associate and
room-mate of the false workman. To call it by the mildest name, here
is a grievous blunder. The blunder is not in the record of the church,
in which the chronology is consistent, for it represents Cornelis as
beginning to work for the church when he was about thirty-two years of
age. It would be a waste of time to show that the chronology of Junius
is impossible: it is enough to say that the first link in the attempted
chain is broken, and that Cornelis could not have been an eye-witness
of the facts.[200]
It is a suspicious circumstance that the testimony of Cornelis should
be recorded for the first time nearly half a century after his death.
Hasback, Andrieszoon and Bellaert, the early printers of Haarlem,
should have heard from Cornelis this story about Coster and his
invention. The people of Haarlem, we are told, were proud of Coster,
and envious of the honors conceded to Gutenberg. Why the printers and
the people of Haarlem allowed the important testimony of Cornelis to
remain unpublished for so long a time is a question that cannot be
answered.
At this late day, it is impossible to discover the kernel of truth
that may be concealed in the heart of so great a husk of fiction. It
may be that Cornelis, who seems to have been a simple-minded man,
and who appears as a binder in the church record about nine years
before Bellaert opened his printing office, imagined that this first
printing office in Haarlem was the first printing office on the globe.
There may have been a theft of types and of secrets from the office
of Jacob Bellaert at or about 1485. Cornelis blundered about dates,
and his inaccuracies have been exaggerated by the gossip of the next
generation. These are possible conjectures. [p345] But we must
remember that this story of Cornelis is not told by himself, but by
Junius.
One of the authorities referred to by Junius is Talesius, burgomaster
of Haarlem when Junius was writing _Batavia_. In referring to him,
Junius is careful in his choice of words. “My account does not disagree
with that of Talesius. . . . I recollect that I have heard from him
nearly the same story.” This is a timid assertion—one that Talesius
could have modified in some of its features. Talesius himself has not
spoken. Talesius was, in his youth, the secretary, and, in mature age,
the intimate friend of Erasmus, to whom he must have spoken about the
legend, but he did not make Erasmus believe it.[201]
The mysterious disappearance of the practice of the art from Haarlem
is even more wonderful than its introduction. The tools may have
been stolen, but the knowledge of the art must have remained. Coster
may have died immediately after the theft, but his son-in-law Thomas
Pieterzoon, and the workmen, who knew all about the details of
typography, were living, and able to go on with the work.[202] The
making of books may have been temporarily suspended, but the curious
[p346] public who clamored for them should have persuaded Coster’s
successors to fill their wants. The new art of printing which found
so many admirers should not have been completely forgotten fifty
years afterward. There is nothing in the story of Junius to satisfy
these doubts. If we accept his account of the invention, we must rest
contented with the belief that typography in Haarlem died as suddenly
as it was born, leaving behind as its only relics one edition of the
_Speculum_ and the old wine-flagons of Thomaszoon. The same strange
fatality followed the alleged thief John who fled to Mentz and printed
two books in 1442. Immediately after, his types, his peculiar process
and his printed books disappear forever.
The improbable features of this legend were not seen in the uncritical
age in which _Batavia_ was written. Patriotic Dutchmen did not wish to
see them. Holland, at the close of the sixteenth century, was flushed
with pride at her successful resistance to the power of Spain. Grateful
to the men who had made her famous, she exaggerated the services of
all her eminent sons. Coster was not forgotten. The name of Junius
gave authority to the Haarlem legend, and the story of Coster was
read and believed throughout the Netherlands. There were dramatic
features connected with it which pleased the imagination and fastened
themselves to the memory. To people who had no opportunity to examine
the evidences, the legend of Haarlem soon became an article of national
faith, to disbelieve which was to be disloyal and unpatriotic. But
this enthusiasm would have subsided if it had not been nourished. If
subsequent writers had added nothing to this legend of Junius, it
would not be necessary to write more about it. Long ago it would have
been put aside as untrue. But the legend has grown: it has been almost
hidden under the additions that have been made to it. The snow-ball
has become a snow-heap. It is necessary to expose the falsity of the
additions as well as of the legend, and to show how recklessly this
chapter of the history of typography has been written.
[p347]
XVIII
The Growth of the Legend.
Perversion by Bertius . . . Romance of Scriverius . . . Date of
Invention removed to 1428 . . . Illustration of First Statue to
Coster . . . Date of 1420 given by Boxhorn . . . Rooman’s Date of
1430 . . . History and Chronology of Seiz . . . Doubts of Hollanders
. . . Discrepancies in the Dates on Medals . . . Meerman and his
Unsatisfactory System . . . Fac-similes of Medals . . . Koning and his
Prize Essay . . . Dr. De Vries’s Theory . . . Radical Disagreements of
the Authors . . . All Versions Enlargements of the Legend as given by
Junius . . . An Article of Patriotic Faith in Holland . . . Monuments
to Coster . . . Illustration of Last Statue.
* * * * *
Who is there that has not opinions planted in him by education time
out of mind, which by that means came to be as the municipal laws
of the country, which must not be questioned, but are to be looked
on with reverence . . . when these opinions are but the traditional
grave talk of those who receive them from hand to hand without ever
examining them?
_Locke._
* * * * *
At the end of the sixteenth century, the legend had two strong
supports—the authority of an eminent scholar, and the patriotic pride
of the Hollanders, who accepted it as truthful history. It did not,
however, pass the ordeal of criticism unharmed: the weaker points of
the legend were exposed by many German authors, and the weight of
their objections compelled Dutch writers to attempt new explanations.
Bertius,[203] writing in 1600, and evidently perplexed by the
carelessness with which Junius had noticed Coster’s first experiments,
says, but without producing any proof, that “Coster invented the art
of printing with engraved blocks or xylography . . . . the three-fold
villain John Faust stole the invention.” Here we see the unavoidable
result of Junius’s [p348] malignant innuendo: Bertius does not
hesitate, as Junius did, to name Fust as the false workman who stole
Coster’s tools.
Peter Scriverius thought it necessary, in 1628, to enlarge and
embellish the story of Junius. He wrote a new version of the invention,
which appeared with a curious poem called the _Laurecrans_.[204]
This, says Scriverius, was the manner of it: In the year 1428,
Laurens Coster, then a sheriff of Haarlem, strolled in the Haarlem
wood. He took up the branch of an oak-tree, cut a few letters in
relief on the wood, and after a while wrapped them up in paper. He
then fell asleep, but while he slept, rain descended and soaked the
paper. Awakened by a clap of thunder, he took up the sheet, and, to
his astonishment, discovered that the rain had transferred to it the
impress of the letters. Here was the suggestion of xylography, which
he at once followed to a successful conclusion. He printed a great
many block-books and a _Donatus_, but finding to his surprise that
letters cut upon a solid block could not be used for other work, he
thereupon invented typography. John Gutenberg, who had been employed
as a workman, stole the tools and the secret. Disheartened with this
misfortune, Coster abandoned printing and died. He proceeds:
It is my opinion that the art was first invented ten or twelve years
before the year of our Lord 1440 (in which the most trustworthy
authors agree), in Holland, at Haarlem. Junius has told its beginning
and progress before us. And although he discovered some particulars
about the invention, yet he has (I may be allowed to say it without
disturbing his ashes) his errors, and may not be pronounced free from
inadvertence. To-day (A. D. 1628) is just two centuries since the
[p349] excellent and valuable art of printing made its appearance (A.
D. 1428). Not in the manner that is used now, with letters cast of
lead and tin. No, it did not go on like that; but a book was cut, leaf
for leaf, on wooden blocks . . . . We must not think that every letter
was cut separately on wood, and that these letters were collected and
put together to a line, and in a certain number of lines. . . . . Our
acute Laurens first cut the letters, twisted and close to each other,
in the manner of writing on wood or tin; but afterward, when he was so
successful, he changed his method of working, and, having invented the
matrices, cast his letters. (!)
I will not say further how the noble art of engraving and printing
of engravings is connected with the invention of printing, which
arose afterward. But just as the dexterous Jan Fuyst imitated the
appropriate art of printing, so the excellent and talented printers
and designers, who also handled the artistic chisel and knife,
contrived to multiply and publish their engravings, cut after the
printing of the Haarlem figures. And all have been instructed by,
and got their first experience from, our clever and talented Laurens
Koster.[205]
Scriverius has given dates and new details, but he has not thrown any
clear light on the subject. He has not made the story of Junius more
credible, but he has exposed himself as a romancer and a fabricator.
In trying to mend the legend, he has destroyed it. If the story of
Scriverius is true, then that of Junius is false, for they contradict
each other. The statements of Junius were based on the pedigree and the
gossip of the old men of Haarlem; the statements of Scriverius were
based on nothing, for he had no authorities which the most lenient
critic could accept.
Scriverius said that Lourens Janszoen or Laurens Koster was the
inventor of xylography as well as of types. After an examination of
the _Speculum_, he had wit enough to see what Junius did not, that
the printer of the book must have had practice with blocks, and that
printing on blocks necessarily preceded printing with types. His
description of the growth of the new art is not at all satisfactory.
The careless manner in which he skips over the invention of matrices
and the making of the moulds is that of a man who knows nothing [p350]
about type-founding, neither from instruction nor observation.
Encouraged by the praise which Scriverius had received for his
performance, Marcus Zuerius Boxhorn undertook to place the date of the
invention eight years earlier. In his _Dissertation on the Invention of
Typography_, printed by Vogel at Leyden in the year 1640,[206] Boxhorn
says that the invention was made in 1420. Here we encounter a curious
fact. The story of Junius had been published less than fifty years, yet
the writers disagreed concerning the date of the invention. Believers
in the legend had been taught by one teacher that typography was
invented in 1440—by another, in 1428—by another, in 1420. And it is a
noticeable circumstance that the authors farthest removed from the date
of the invention were the most positive in their statements. The later
writers, who knew the least, give us the earlier dates.
Adrien Rooman, a printer of Haarlem, and apparently a conservative
and conciliatory man, thought that these differences could be most
satisfactorily adjusted by fixing the date midway between the extremes.
He was not in the possession of any newly discovered facts, and had no
authority for the arbitrary selection, but this incompetency did not
prevent him from publishing a portrait of Coster, with an inscription
which made the year 1430 the date of the invention.
To the thinking men of Haarlem the assumptions of Boxhorn were as
unsatisfactory as those of Junius and Scriverius. There was an air of
improbability, or at least of uncertainty, about the statements of
all the authorities, which filled their minds with doubts as to the
truth of the legend. The statue to Coster, which was soon after put up
in the Doctors’ Garden, had no date of invention on the pedestal. To
remove these doubts, Seiz[207] undertook, in 1742, to furnish “a true
and rational account of the invention” by Coster. The truth and reason
of this new description of the invention of Coster are most strikingly
illustrated in its chronology. [p352]
[Illustration: The Statue of Coster in the Doctors’ Garden.
[From Seiz.]]
1428 Laurens Coster engraved a few letters upon the bark of a tree.
1429 He gave one year to experimental engraving on wood.
1431 He printed the _Temptations of Demons_ or _Ars Moriendi_.
1432 Printed the _Bible of the Poor_.
1435 He began to engrave and print an edition of the _Donatus_.
1436 He cut separate letters or single types out of lead.
1437 After prolonged experiment, he abandoned this method.
1438 He invented a method of casting types of lead.
1439 He began to print an edition of the _Donatus_, and the Dutch
edition of the _Speculum_. In this year Gutenberg took service with
Coster, and began to print for him, by which he earned the title of
the Book-printer of Haarlem. (!)
1440 Gutenberg absconded with some knowledge of the invention. He was
able to cut, but not to cast types. (!)
1441 He established a printing office in Mentz.
1442 Gutenberg printed an _A b c_ book, the _Doctrinal_ of Alexander
Gallus and the _Treatise_ of Peter of Spain. By this time Coster had
repaired the damages of the theft.
1443 Coster printed the second edition of the _Speculum_ in Dutch.
1444 Coster printed a Latin edition of the _Speculum_.
1446 Gutenberg also induced Gensfleisch, called afterward Faust, (!)
and Meydenbach to join him in printing a _Latin Bible_.
1457 Coster’s art was well known, and excited the envy of the
Archbishop of Canterbury and of King Henry VI of England.
1457 The Archbishop persuaded the king to get a knowledge of the art
from Gutenberg, the first book printer of Haarlem. (!)
1459 Turnour and Caxton, who were sent on this mission, bribed
Frederick Corsellis, a workman of Coster, to run away from Haarlem in
disguise. To prevent his escape, Corsellis was taken to Oxford, in
which town he began to print in 1468.
1467 Coster died, about the same time that Gutenberg and Faust died.
(!) His printing office ceased to exist.[208]
Seiz has not told us where he obtained this curious information, but we
shall make no mistake if we attribute it to an imagination disordered
by national pride. His chronology is so absurd that serious criticism
would be a waste of time.
Notwithstanding the strong efforts of Seiz to remove the impression
created by the contradictory accounts of his predecessors, the citizens
of Haarlem seemed to be involved in [p353] greater doubts than ever
about the chronology of the invention. For, in 1740, upon the occasion
of the third jubilee of Coster’s invention, two silver medals were
struck, with legends curiously unlike. We here see that the name of the
inventor is printed in different forms; one medal bears the date 1440,
and the other contains the date 1428. These irregularities prepare us
for what is to follow.
[Illustration: Medals in Honor of Coster.
[From Seiz.]]
In 1757, Gerard Meerman, subsequently a distinguished champion of the
Haarlem legend, wrote “that the pretentious assertion of the invention
of printing by Laurens Coster begins to lose credit more and more.
The particulars that have been related by Seiz are mere suppositions,
and the chronology of Coster’s invention and enterprise is a romantic
fiction.”
But, in the year 1760, Daniel Schoepflin, an eminent scholar of
Strasburg, wrote a valuable contribution to the history of typography,
under the title of _Vindiciæ Typographicæ_. Meerman was provoked to
emulation. He had not believed in the legend, but he thought that
he could construct a theory of the invention, which would, to some
extent, concede the claims of the rival cities of Haarlem, Strasburg
and Mentz. In this illogical manner, by the construction of a theory
before [p354] he was in possession of the facts, he began to write the
_Origines Typographicæ_. The entire book was published in 1765, with a
portrait of Lourens Coster by the eminent Dutch engraver Houbraken, and
a portrait of Meerman himself by Daullé. In the matter of scholarship,
Meerman was thoroughly qualified for his task. He wrote in a clear
style and with admirable method. But he knew nothing of the mechanics
of printing nor of type-founding, and, unfortunately, he was too
conceited to accept correction or instruction even from the hands of
experts like Enschedé, Fournier and others. In trying to make facts
suit theories, he went so far as to order the engraver of a fac-simile
to stretch the vellum of a _Donatus_ so that the types used upon this
_Donatus_ should appear to be the same as the types of the _Speculum_.
[Illustration: Medals in Honor of Coster.
[From Seiz.]]
These are the conclusions submitted by Meerman as the result of his
study of, and reflection on, the legend of Haarlem:
Typography was invented by Louwerijs Janszoen, also known as Laurens
Coster, who, at various times between 1422 and 1434, filled the office
of sheriff, treasurer and sacristan. He was of noble blood, but a
bastard of one of the [p355] Brederodes. He died sometime between
1434 and 1440. He invented typography about 1428 or 1430, using only
movable types of wood. All that Junius has written about an invention
of lead and tin types by Coster is incorrect. He thinks it useless
to consider the engraving of letters upon solid wood-blocks, for
this is not typography, and is not printing as we now understand it.
Laurens was robbed on Christmas night, 1440, by Johan Gensfleisch
the elder, who carried the art to Mentz. The son-in-law and heirs
of Coster continued his business for some time after his death, but
with little appreciation, as they were overshadowed by the superior
invention of Gutenberg and Schœffer. Coster printed but one edition of
the _Speculum_ from types of wood. His successors printed the other
Dutch edition and the two Latin editions from engraved metal types.
The contributions of different inventors toward the perfect invention
are acknowledged in this manner: Laurens Coster was the first to
demonstrate the feasibility of typography by his use of wood types;
John Gensfleisch was the first to make cut or engraved metal types;
Peter Schoeffer was the inventor of cast or founded metal types; John
Gutenberg and John Fust were printers who invented nothing.
Meerman had fair warning from the type-founder and printer John
Enschedé that his theories of wood types[209] and of cut metal types
were preposterous. He did not heed the warning. He wrote, not for
printers, but for bibliographers who believed in the practicability of
wood types, and he did not mistake his readers. The bibliographers,
who knew little or nothing of the theory or practice of type-making,
were not competent to criticise the mechanical part of his theory.
He hoped to disarm the prejudices of German authors by his frank
acknowledgment of the contributions of Schœffer and Gensfleisch as
co-inventors. The novelty of his theory, the [p356] judicial equity
with which he decreed to Coster, Gensfleisch and Schœffer what he said
was their share in the honors of the invention, the temperate tone and
calm philosophic spirit in which the book was written, the breadth
of scholarship displayed in exact quotations from a great number of
authors, won admirers in all countries. The theory of Meerman about a
contributive invention need not be examined here: it has been entirely
refuted by many French and German authors; it was abandoned even by
Hollanders[210] at the beginning of the present century. The authority
of the book is at an end.
The conviction that all previously written defences of the legend were
untenable, caused a scientific society of Holland to offer a prize for
the best treatise on the invention. Jacobus Koning was the successful
competitor. In 1816, he published, under the sanction of the society,
the essay that had won the prize, under the title of “_The Origin,
Invention and Development of Printing_.” It was an inquiry of more than
ordinary merit—the first book on the subject which showed evidences of
original research. Koning tried to supplement the many deficiencies
of Junius, with extracts from the records of the old church and town
of Haarlem, which he had studied with diligence. He brought to light
a great deal of information about one Laurens Janszoon, whom he
confounded, as Meerman had done, with Lourens Janszoon Coster. This is
the substance of his discoveries and of his conclusions therefrom:
Koning describes the inventor as Laurens Janszoon Koster, and not as
Lourens Janszoon. He says that Koster was born about 1370; that there
are no records of his early life, and that his name does not appear
on any of the registers of Haarlem, municipal or ecclesiastical,
until he became a man of middle age. After this period of his life,
notices are frequent. He was the sacristan of a church from 1421 to
1433. He was, at different times, alderman and presiding alderman,
treasurer of the town, lender of money to the city, officer in the
citizens’ guard, member of the grand council, and deputy to a [p357]
convocation of the States—clearly a man of wealth and distinction.
There was a great pestilence in Haarlem in the latter part of the
year 1439, and Koning says it seems probable that Koster was one of
its many victims. Koster’s only child was a daughter named Lucette,
who married Thomas, the son of Pieter Pieterzoon—the Peter mentioned
by Junius. Pieterzoon had three children, but with them the family
name was lost. This Laurens Janszoon Koster invented xylography and
typography. He experimented with types of wood, but did not use them
for practical work. His types were founded in matrices of lead, and
in moulds of metal; he invented printing ink, and printed his books
with inking balls on a press. His materials were rude, but the process
was substantially the same as that of modern printers. He printed
the first edition of the _Speculum_ in 1430, and sixteen other books
before his death. His business as a printer was continued for some
years, but in a feeble manner, by his grandsons. The thief of Koster’s
process was Frielo Gensfleisch.
In the town records Koster is not noticed as a printer, but Koning
described his method of printing, his punches, moulds, matrices,
presses, inking balls, ink, types, and printing office furniture, with
as much boldness as if he had been eye-witness to the entire process.
Nor was this his only error. It has since been proved that he willfully
suppressed many important facts in the records which are of great
importance in an examination of the life and services of Coster. It is
plain that he was more intent on pleasing the national pride than on
revealing the truth.
The speculations of Koning were destroyed by the keen criticisms of
the authors who followed him. Dr. Abraham De Vries[211] set aside
impatiently nearly all the ingenious theories devised by former
commentators. He repudiated the statement that Coster had been a
sexton or sacristan, or that he invented engraving on wood. Warned
by the failures of his predecessors, he advanced no new theory about
the peculiarities of Coster’s typographic process; he professed to
be satisfied with the bald statement of Junius, and dogmatically
maintained that Coster “was the inventor of typography, of the proper
art of printing, the first who invented and practised [p358] the art
of printing with movable and cast letters, and so gave the example to
Mentz. . . . In the beginning, the art was secretly practised as a
trade in manuscripts, not only during the lifetime of the inventor, but
by his successors after his death.” De Vries placed the invention about
1423.
It is not necessary to protract this review of the different versions
of the legend, nor yet to point out the fatal disagreements and
inaccuracies of these versions. It is plain that all the authors who
have maintained the claims of Coster have taken their leading facts
from Junius. It is equally plain that they have been dissatisfied with
his statements and have tried to fill up the gaps in the evidence with
conjectures. But they have not made the legend any more credible. The
exact nature and date of the invention, the name of the inventor, his
method of making types, the books he printed, the thief who stole his
process, the fate of his printing office, the total disappearance of
the knowledge of the new art—these and other features of the positive
statement first made by Junius are enveloped in as complete a mystery
as they were when _Batavia_ was written.
With all its inconsistencies and improbabilities, the legend has
been accepted as essentially truthful by many eminent bibliographers
in France and England. Of late years it has encountered but feeble
opposition from German writers. In many modern books on printing,
Coster has been recognized either as the inventor or as one of the
co-inventors of the art. There has been a general belief that, however
absurd the legend might be in some minor matters of detail, it had
a nucleus of truth. Coster’s place in typographical history, at the
middle of the present century, seemed almost as firmly fixed as that of
Gutenberg.
In Holland, this legend of the invention of printing by Coster was an
article of national faith which only the bold man dared to deny. It has
produced results which could never have been foreseen by the vain old
man Gerrit Thomaszoon, in whose conceit the fable originated. Haarlem
is dotted with [p359] monuments to the memory of Coster. Certain
days in June and July are observed as festivals in commemoration of
the invention. In the Hout, or Haarlem Wood, where Coster is said to
have received his first suggestion of types, an imposing cenotaph has
been placed. Carved on this stone are the arms of the sheriff Laurens
Janszoon, and the year 1423, which is offered as the date of this
suggestion. An acknowledgment of Coster as the inventor of typography
may be seen in the ancient cathedral of Haarlem, on a black marble
tablet, which was put in place during the month of June, 1824, by King
William I. In almost every well appointed public office or private
house of Haarlem is some pictorial recognition of Coster as the
inventor of printing.
[Illustration: The Statue on the New Monument to Coster.
[From Noordziek.]]
In the year 1851, an association of patriotic Hollanders placed
in front of the rebuilt Coster house a memorial stone with this
inscription: “The house of Coster: the birthplace of typography.” The
date of this birth is judiciously omitted. The tablet of the old Coster
house contained an inscription in honor of “Laurens Coster, sheriff,
of Haarlem, inventor of typography about the year 1430.” The vitality
of the legend has also been preserved by the issue of a great many
medals, prints and papers, and by the repeated assertion of the civic
authorities that Coster was the original and unquestionable inventor of
typography.
[p360]
XIX
The Downfall of the Legend.
The Vague Inscription on the Last Monument . . . Relics in the
Costerian Museum . . . Fac-simile of Janszoon’s Autograph . . . The
Coster Pedigree . . . Made by Gerrit Thomaszoon . . . Legend began
with the Pedigree . . . Pedigree has been Falsified, and is of No
Authority . . . Search by Van der Linde for Records concerning Coster
. . . Archives of the Town and Church of Haarlem represent Coster as a
Tallow-Chandler and Innkeeper . . . Coster living at Haarlem in 1483
. . . The Record of the Chair-Book . . . No Evidence that Coster was a
Printer . . . Lourens Coster has been Confounded with Laurens Janszoon
. . . Illustration of the House of Coster . . . Other Fac-similes of
Portraits of Coster . . . Their Curious Dissimilarity . . . Absurdity
of the Legend.
* * * * *
We see in a square at Haarlem the monument of the fictitious personage
Laurens Coster. It presents a sad figure. Behind this statue, sneering
in mockery, is another colossal monument, which dominates and
belittles it—a statue visible to us, but to Hollanders invisible—the
statue of Ridicule.
_Helbig._
* * * * *
In the year 1856, on the sixteenth day of July, the day accepted as the
anniversary of the invention, a statue of Coster was put up in Haarlem.
The tablets of the pedestal bear inscriptions which are thus translated
by Hessels:
LOURENS JANSZOON COSTER.
HOMAGE OF THE
NETHERLAND NATION.
MDCCCLVI.
INVENTOR OF
THE ART OF PRINTING
WITH
MOVABLE LETTERS
CAST OF METAL.
The date of the invention and the profession or position of the
inventor are omitted. We cannot ascertain from the monument whether
Coster was a sheriff or a sexton, whether he invented printing in 1423
or 1440. It may be inferred that there had been disagreements among the
eminent men who erected this work of patriotism, and that they could
not [p361] heartily accept the date of any version of the legend. On
this great occasion the Costerian Museum[212] of Haarlem was enriched
with a pedigree of the Thomaszoon family, an old document frequently
referred to by some defenders of the legend as an incontestable
evidence of its truth. The pedigree was, without doubt, a genuine
relic. Its dingy vellum surface, written over in many handwritings, was
surrounded by an embroidered border blackened with age. Its history
could be traced through three centuries. Gerrit Thomaszoon, the aged
descendant of Coster mentioned by Junius with such marked respect, was
the person by or for whom this pedigree was made in or about the year
1550.[213] This Gerrit Thomaszoon had kept an inn in the house once
occupied by Coster, and it is supposed that the pedigree was one of the
decorations of a wall in his house. There is a special significance in
this date of 1550.
[Illustration: Autograph of Laurens Janszoon.
[From Koning.]]
This pedigree, which describes Coster as the inventor of printing, was
written at least one hundred years after the discovery of the invention
and the death of the inventor. It was written when Cornelis, the only
eye-witness known to [p362] history, had been dead nearly thirty years.
It is, however, and too much stress cannot be laid on this fact, the
oldest document in which mention is made of Coster as a printer. There
are valid reasons for the belief that Coster’s merit as an inventor had
never been recognized in any way before the record was made on this
pedigree. When we consider the order of the dates, it is obvious that
it was from this much suspected document that Coornhert derived the
information he published in 1561. “The old, dignified and grey heads”
described by Van Zuren in 1561, “the aged and respectable citizens” of
Guicciardini (1566) and Junius (1568), were Gerrit Thomaszoon and his
friends, among whom we may properly include Gallius and Talesius. And
it may be added that the more circumstantial story of Junius was first
published when Gallius and Talesius were dead, and when there was no
man living who could controvert or modify any part of his story.
There can be no doubt that the legend began with this pedigree. It is
not at all probable that the vain old man Gerrit Thomaszoon, who was
proud of the ancestor in whose house he lived, kept his friends in
ignorance of it. It was not unknown to Junius. There is a similarity of
uncertainty between an ambiguous date (1440 or 1446) on this pedigree
and the mysterious circumlocution of Junius in his use of the words
“about one hundred and twenty-eight years ago,” or 1440, which is
enough to show that Junius had not only seen the pedigree, but that he
took it as an authority for this date. Whether Scriverius saw it cannot
be confidently maintained; he does not mention it. Gerard Meerman
knew of its existence, but he did not reprint it. He made use of it,
however, in the construction of a new genealogy of the Coster family,
in which he added and altered items in the most unwarrantable manner.
Koning studied it with diligence: he frequently alluded to it as a
document of the highest importance, but he did not reprint it, nor even
describe it in general terms.
The withholding of this pedigree from public examination, and the
evasion of its description by the authors who had [p363] examined
it, are suspicious circumstances. We see that men who wrote hundreds
of pages of speculations to support the claims of Coster—men who
translated and reprinted many columns of irrelevant chaff for the sake
of one little kernel of grain—willfully suppressed what they maintained
was a most convincing evidence of the truth of the legend. It was not
suppressed because it was too long: the entire pedigree can be printed
in two pages.
The reasons for withholding the pedigree were apparent when it was
put in the Museum. The reading of the words in the first row at once
produced the impression that its importance had been vastly overrated;
that its information was of little value; that it was almost worthless
as evidence of the priority of Dutch typography. Dr. Van der Linde, who
made a critical examination of the writing soon after it was placed in
the Museum, revealed the astonishing fact that the most important entry
had been falsified. This entry, which contains the only portion of any
interest in an inquiry concerning the invention of printing by Coster,
consists of the following lines:
“Sijn tweede wijff was Lourens “His [Thomas Pieterzoon’s] second
Janssoens Costers dochter die wife was Lourens Janssoen’s
deerste print in die werlt Coster’s daughter who brought
brocht Anno 1446.” the first print in the world in
the year 1446.”
The date first written was 1446, but in this column, and in others,
objectionable entries have been effaced and falsifications have been
attempted. The figure 6 has been partially rubbed out; it has been
replaced by a 0, so that the careless reader will construe the date as
1440. There can be no hesitation whatever on this point; the figures
first written surely were 1446. “We see here a fable arise before our
very eyes. A Haarlem citizen has a pedigree made for him, probably to
put it up in his inn. . . . . . But the frame wants lustre, and so the
pedigree is linked by the probably totally fictitious Lucye, the second
wife, to a Haarlemer—to a Haarlemer who (the awkwardness and naïveté of
the expression may not surprise [p364] us at all in such a product of
family vanity) brought the first print in the world.”[214]
We may waive all criticism of the faulty grammar of the pedigree and
proceed to more important matters. It may be conceded that the pedigree
was written by an ignorant man who intended to say that it was Coster,
and not his daughter, who brought the first print in the world. By
the word print Thomaszoon may have meant a playing card, the engraved
figure of a saint, a block-book, or a book made from movable types.
If he meant any product of xylographic printing, the statement is
totally false, and deserves no consideration. If he meant typography,
his failure to express that meaning is unfortunate. But his intention
is really of but little importance. A bald statement on a pedigree,
written by an ignorant and conceited man, about one hundred years after
the great event he professed to record, of the details of which he
obviously knew nothing, cannot be used to overthrow established facts
in the history of typography.
It is unsatisfactory in other points. The alteration of the date, and
the unexplained erasures have destroyed whatever validity the document
may have had. It may be put aside; as an authority it is worthless. Its
obscure notice of the invention of printing is but a frail foundation
for the colossal superstructure which Junius erected. It is plain that
Junius must have been conscious of its weakness as a basis for the
legend; he had doubts of its accuracy, and dared not refer to it. He
preferred the oral testimony of the dead Cornelis.
The discovery of this falsification induced Dr. Van der Linde to
make, “with a zeal and patience worthy of a better cause and of a
better reward,” a laborious investigation in the archives of the town
and church of Haarlem for authentic [p365] information concerning
Coster. He had cause to think that history had been falsified by other
historians of the legend. Through the study of the archives, Van
der Linde ascertained that there lived in Haarlem, in the fifteenth
century, a citizen whose name was Lourens Janszoon Coster, the son of
one Jan Coster who died in 1436. The results of the search were as
curious as they were unexpected, as will be fully understood after an
examination of this translation of the originals:
1441 . . On the evening of the 13th, settled with lou koster for 15
pounds and 12 pounds of oil, each pound an ancient butdrager, and 34
pence for soap and tallow candles, together 22 guilders 3 pence.
1441 . . Louwerijs Janssoen, for 72 pounds of candles, which have been
burnt by the guards in the town hall during the year—for each pound an
ancient butdrager.
1441 . . Louwerijs Jans, aforesaid, for the candles burnt in the tower
in honor of Our Lady, during this year, as was agreed with him.
1442 . . Lourijs Coster, paid for having repaired the lantern of Our
Lady in the tower.
1442 . . Lourijs Coster, for 40 pounds of tallow candles which the
guards in the town hall burnt; cost each pound an ancient butdrager.
1442 . . Paid to lou coster 8 guilders for oil and soap.
1442 . . To lou coster for soap, candles and other things, 15 pence.
1447 . . On the 14th day of March, paid to Louwerijs Coster for 5
pounds of candles burnt in the tower in honor of Our Lady.
There can be no mistake about the business of this man. The Lourens
Janszoon Coster described on the old pedigree as the famous man who
brought the first print in the world, and in _Batavia_ as a wealthy
citizen, a man of leisure and of enlarged mind, and the inventor
of engraving on wood and typography, was certainly an obscure
tallow-chandler, who sold oil and candles.[215] The anti-climax is
sufficiently absurd, but worse remains. The archives give us more than
a clue to the origin of Coster’s wine-flagons. It seems that, some time
[p366] after 1447, this Lourens Janszoon Coster gave up the business
of chandler in favor of his sister Ghertruit Jan Costersdochter, and
that he chose for his new occupation the duties of a tavern-keeper. Van
der Linde found this fact clearly stated in the treasury accounts of
the town of Haarlem.
1451 . . Lou coster[216] paid, for two menghelen of wine which were
sent to the burgomaster a year ago.
1454 . . A dinner was offered to the count of Oostervant on the 8th
day of October, 1453, at lou coster’s; indebted to him for it XVII
guilders.
1468 . . Louris Coster and other citizens are summoned to the Hague.
1474 . . Louris Janszoon Coster pays war taxes.
1475 . . Louris Janszoon Coster pays a fine for “buyten drincken” (to
drink beyond the premises).
1483 . . Received of Louris Janszoon Coster for ferry toll for his
goods when he left the town, 8 rex guilders.
We here see that the name of Louris Janszoon Coster was recorded in the
town-book for the last time under the date of 1483, when he paid ferry
toll for his goods, and was allowed to leave the town. It is not known
where he went or where he died, but it is plain that the story of his
death in 1439, as related by Meerman and Koning, must be untrue.
There might have been a doubt as to the identity of the chandler
with the innkeeper, if Van der Linde had not investigated in another
direction, and made gleanings from the books of an old association,
whose records are as trustworthy as those of the archives of the town
and the church. This association, which still exists, under the name of
the _Holy Christmas Corporation_, is thus described by Van der Linde:
It is one of those fraternities which had the lofty aim of eating and
drinking. This corporation is already very old, for it celebrated its
third jubilee in 1606. Its fifty-four brethren and sisters preserved
each a chair for their meetings. According to these statutes, these
chairs, if they were not disposed of by a last will, were inherited by
[p367] the eldest and nearest blood relation in the branch from which
they came . . . . The corporation remaining in existence, the right of
property in the chairs continued, by uninterrupted transmission, until
our time.
In the register of the names of the occupants of the chairs are found
the following entries under the heading of chair 29:
1421 . . Jan Coster, by . . . .
1436 . . Lourijs Coster, by inheritance.
1484 . . Frans Thomas Thomasz, by . . . .[217]
1497 . . Gerret Thomas Pieterz, by inheritance from his father.
1564 . . Cornelis Gerritz, by inheritance from his father.
1589 . . Anna Gerritsdr., by purchase from her cousin.
The names of the successive owners of chair 29 are continued in the
book, but they are of no interest in this inquiry.
The archives of the church and town of Haarlem contain the names
of other Costers, but there is no other Coster who will answer the
description of Junius and Thomaszoon. The Lourens Janszoon Coster of
the pedigree, the Louwerijs Janssoen (so called only after the year
1441) or Lourijs Coster of the archives, and the Lourijs Coster of
the chair-book are, without doubt, the different names of the same
man. This is the man who, according to Thomaszoon and Junius, brought
the first print in the world. But he appears as a printer only in the
pedigree. The archives and the chair-book do not so describe him; they
tell us nothing of his invention, nor of the alleged stealing of his
types, nor of his death in 1439. The town-book says that he was living
in 1483. In none of these documents does he appear as sheriff, sexton,
or treasurer.
It is obvious that the legend of Coster the printer rests entirely upon
the pedigree and its amplifications by Junius. [p368] But the pedigree
is of no authority. Its information is not confirmed by the records;
its falsifications and its suspected history compel every candid reader
to reject its evidence altogether. We have to accept in preference the
testimony of the archives, and have to admit that there is no credible
evidence that Coster printed anything at any time. The Lourens Janszoon
Coster of typographical history is as fictitious a personage as the
Cadmus of Greek mythology. He is really more fictitious, for he is the
representative of two men.
The revelations of Dr. Van der Linde show that Lourens Janszoon Coster
has been confounded with Laurens Janszoon or Louwerijs Janszoon,[218]
who was a man of some distinction, a wine merchant, innkeeper,
councilor, sheriff, treasurer and governor of the hospital. He is the
man of civic offices, of wealth and high social position, who has
been described by Koning. He is the man whom Meerman represented as
an [p369] unrecognized member of the noble family of Brederodes. But
he is, certainly, not the man described on the pedigree as the Coster
who brought the first print in the world. He is not the man described
by Junius who lived “about one hundred and twenty-eight years ago,” or
in 1440, for the records of the church of St. Bavo prove that Laurens
Janszoon died and was buried in 1439. It is not at all probable that
Thomaszoon or Junius made any mistake in the name, and that it was this
Louwerijs Janszoon who brought the first print in the world. There
is no more evidence in favor of Janszoon as an inventor of printing
than there is in favor of Coster. The most careful searching of the
records fails to bring to light any evidence that he was engaged in the
practice of printing.
That Lourens Coster kept a tavern may also be inferred from the fact
that the house he lived in was always known as a tavern. The engraving
of this house on the following page shows how the edifice appeared
in 1740. Junius said that it was a house of some pretension in 1568,
and that it stood on the market-place near the royal palace; but Van
Zuren had previously noticed it as a house falling to decay. In 1628,
Scriverius said that the house had been “changed and was divided among
three masters:” the part supposed to be the Coster residence was called
_The Golden Bunch of Grapes_, and it was even then used as a tavern.
When John Bagford first saw the house, in 1706, it was a cheese shop.
In 1761, Moses Van Hulkenroy, a printer, lived in part of it, and the
other part was occupied as an inn, then known as _The Golden Fleece_.
In 1813, the centre building was used as a public house. It fell
into ruins on the 13th of May, 1818, but it has since been rebuilt,
and a tablet inserted in memory of Coster. It is probable that this
house was an inn when Junius wrote _Batavia_, and that he refrained
from mentioning this circumstance lest it might degrade Coster. But
we now know that Coster, and Pieter Thomaszoon, his son-in-law, who
succeeded him in business, and that Gerrit Thomaszoon, the author
of the pedigree, were all innkeepers. The wine-flagons, to which
[p371] Junius points so triumphantly, were a proper portion of the
furnishings of an inn. To the modern reader, who has been informed
that a part of this house has always been a drinking tavern for the
refreshment of the men of Haarlem, these pewter mugs, or flagons, as
Junius names them, are not, as he would have us believe, indisputable
evidence that their first owner must have been a printer.
[Illustration: The House of Coster.
[From Seiz.]]
[Illustration: Laurens Janszoon Coster.
[From Maittaire.]]
The falsity of the legend is abundantly established by the
dissimilarity of the many engraved likenesses, which from time to time
have been presented as portraits of Coster. The earliest representation
of the alleged inventor was published by Scriverius,[219] not quite
two centuries after Coster is said to have died. The only attest to
the accuracy of the portrait is Scriverius himself, and it need not
be said that he is not a trustworthy witness. There have been many
variations of this well-known engraving. Van der Linde suggests that
this engraving by Scriverius may be a portrait of Gerrit Thomaszoon,
appropriated for the exigency. There is a peculiarity in the engraving
which plainly proves that the portrait could not have been painted
during the lifetime of Coster. The “true effigies of Laurenz” carries
in his right hand a matrix of the letter A of the Roman form, but
letters of Roman form were not used at Haarlem in 1440. Books
attributed to Coster have letters in the Gothic style. [p372]
In 1630, a new portrait of Coster was published by Adrien Rooman, with
Latin and Dutch verses attached. Boxhorn mentioned this engraving in
such a manner that strangers were led to believe it was a statue that
had been erected to Coster.
[Illustration: A Spurious Portrait by Van den Berg.
[From Koning.]]
[Illustration: A Portrait attributed to Van Oudewater.
[From Koning.]]
Jacob Van Campen was induced to make another painting of the grim
features in a more truly artistic style. His idealized head of Coster
was engraved by Cornelis Koning, whose reproduction of the painter’s
fancy has ever since been accepted as an authentic portrait.[220] The
round cap, the furred [p373] robe, and the matrix in the extended
hand, are the features of the Scriverius portrait; but the head is
that of another man. The stony face which Scriverius presented as the
image of Coster was somewhat softened by the pencil of Van Campen, but
after he had exhausted upon it all the resources of his art, it still
remained a grim and unsatisfactory head, a head without any expression
of genius or even of culture—the head of a hard innkeeper, but not of
an inventor. It was a biting satire upon the story of Junius, all the
more offensive because the portrait had as strong claim to authenticity
as the legend.
[Illustration: The Laurens Janszoon of Meerman.
[From Meerman.]]
Meerman refused to accept this head as a faithful portrait. He
produced a new likeness of the inventor, and claimed for it a superior
truthfulness. In the same year, 1765, Van Osten de Bruyn published an
engraving of the same head, with this explanation: “Laurens Janszoon,
sheriff, of the town of Haarlem, inventor of the noble art of printing
. . . after an old picture bought from William Corneliszoon Croon, the
last descendant of Laurens Janszoon, who died, unmarried, at Haarlem in
1724.” We find no vouchers for the authenticity of this portrait. Croon
was the man by [p374] or for whom the vellum pedigree was continued.
He was equally interested with the originator of the pedigree, Gerrit
Thomaszoon, in upholding the legend. Whether Croon was ignorant of
the fact that Laurens Janszoon, the sheriff, was not Lourens Janszoon
Coster, is not so clear; but it is clear that the portrait submitted by
Croon does not resemble the portrait furnished by Scriverius. Gockinga
asserts that the engraving made by Meerman (after Croon’s portrait) is
like the engraved head of Sir Thomas More of England. Van der Linde
says that the Coster of Meerman closely resembles the engraved portrait
of a once celebrated inquisitor, one Ruard Tapper of Enkhuizen.[221]
The Coster of Scriverius and the Coster of Meerman are certainly
different men.
Everywhere but in Holland[222] and Belgium, Dr. Van der Linde’s
exposure of the spuriousness of the legend has been accepted as the end
of all debate. Coster must hereafter be regarded as one of the heroes
of fiction and not of history. With the downfall of Coster, fall also
all the speculations concerning an early invention of printing[223] in
the Netherlands by an unknown or unnamed printer.
[p375]
XX
John Gutenberg at Strasburg.
Gutenberg’s Place as an Inventor . . . His Birth at Mentz . . .
Subsequent Residence in Strasburg . . . Early Suits at Law . . . His
Probable Marriage . . . Is Sued by Claus Dritzehen . . . The Judge’s
Statement . . . Testimony of the Witnesses . . . Gutenberg the Chief
of an Association . . . Engaged in a Secret Art . . . Notices of a
Press and of a Mysterious Tool of Four Pieces . . . Notices of Forms
that were Melted, and of Printing . . . Decision of the Judge . . .
Gutenberg’s Reputation for Knowledge of Curious Arts . . . Polishing
Stones . . . Making Mirrors . . . The Secret Art was Printing with
Founded Types . . . Secret was not in the Press . . . Illustration
of Old Screw Press . . . Testimony of the Earlier Authors . . . Tool
of Four Pieces was a Type-Mould . . . Fac-simile of Garamond’s Mould
. . . Fac-simile of an Early Donatus . . . Gutenberg’s Financial
Embarrassments and Failure.
* * * * *
But whoever were the inventers of this Art, or, (as some Authors
will have it,) Science, nay, Science of Sciences (say they), certain
it is, that in all its Branches it can be deemed little less than
a Science. . . for my part, I weighed it well in my thoughts, and
I find . . . that a Typographer ought to be a man of Science. By a
Typographer, I do not mean a Printer . . . I mean such a one, who
by his own Judgment from solid reasoning with himself, can either
perform, or direct others to perform, from the beginning to the end,
all the Handy-works and all the Physical Operations relating to
Typographie. Such a Scientifick man was doubtless he who was the first
Inventer of Typographie.
_Joseph Moxon, 1683._
* * * * *
Moxon did not overrate the rank of typography among the arts. It is a
science, and, like all sciences, is the fruit of the knowledge which
comes only by study. Like all sciences, it came in the fullness of
time, when the world had been prepared for it, but it came only to him
who had qualified himself for its handiworks from beginning to end.
In the description of the work of John Gutenberg about to be related,
imperfect as it must be by reason of our ignorance of his thoughts and
plans, we shall clearly see that the invention of typography was not,
as Junius would have us believe, the result of a happy thought or of
a flash of inspiration. It [p376] was not born in a day. To use the
sound language of an old chronicler, it was thought out and wrought out.
The work of Gutenberg will require a treatment different from that
given to the work of Coster. It is not necessary to introduce the
subject by a description of his books, by proof of his existence from
writings made a century after his death, and, by a train of fine
speculative reasoning, to show that he should have been the printer of
the books ascribed to him by conjecture. Our knowledge of Gutenberg
is incomplete, but it is positive as far as it goes. He did not put
his name on any book, but he certainly printed many books; it does not
appear that he ever boasted that he was the inventor of typography, but
this honor was conceded to him by many printers soon after his death.
His antagonists in courts of law, as well as the friends who put up
tablets to his memory, have told us, as plainly as could be desired,
that he was a master of many curious arts, and that he had made a broad
and unmistakable mark on his time.
There is no record of the birth of Gutenberg,[224] but it is the belief
of his German biographers that he was born at Mentz about 1398 or 1399.
His parents were, Frielo Gensfleisch and Else Gutenberg. Their two[225]
children were, John Gutenberg,[226] named after his mother, and Frielo
Gensfleisch. Frielo junior was always called Gensfleisch, but John,
whose relation to the Gensfleisch family must have been well known, was
sometimes described as John Gensfleisch, junior. A legal document of
[p377] the city of Strasburg names him John, called Gensfleisch, alias
Gutenberg, of Mentz.[227]
The infancy and youth of Gutenberg were passed amid scenes of strife.
In Mentz, as in many other cities of Germany, the burghers made
persistent encroachments on the privileges of the noblemen, and met
with as persistent resistance. The municipal disorder which followed
their frequent collisions was seriously aggravated by the disputes
of the rival archbishops who held office under rival popes. The
burghers, as the larger body, claimed the larger share of the city
offices, and the right to take the lead on occasions of ceremony and
in the administration of affairs. In the year 1420, the burghers of
Mentz made preparation for the entertainment of the Emperor, on the
occasion of his visit to the city. Circumvented by the action of the
noblemen, who greeted the Emperor first, the burghers retaliated by the
destruction of the houses and goods of the more obnoxious nobles. In
their rage, they demanded of them humiliating guarantees, and put them
under restrictions so galling, that Frielo Gensfleisch and many others
preferred to go in exile.[228] [p378]
It is not known where the Gensfleisch family took refuge. It is
supposed that Strasburg was the city selected, for this is the city in
which we find the earliest notice of Gutenberg.
In 1430, the Elector Conrad III granted a full amnesty to many of the
exiled citizens of Mentz, and summoned them to return. Johan Gutenberg
was specifically named in the proclamation, but he continued to dwell
abroad. During this year, his mother Else, then a widow, negotiated,
through her son, for her pension of fourteen guilders which had been
allowed to her by the magistrates of Mentz. In 1432, he visited Mentz,
probably on business relating to this pension. These are the only known
records of his early manhood.
Nothing is known about his education. Some writers have represented him
as an engraver on wood or a printer of cards or of block-books at an
early age. It is possible that he may have received instruction in the
arts of block-printing and engraving, and that he may have traveled far
and wide in quest of greater knowledge,[229] as was and is customary
with German artisans; but we have no evidence on this point. It must be
confessed that the first thirty years of his life are virtually blank.
The most important actions of his after life would have been obscured
quite as thoroughly, if it had not been his fate to appear many times,
either as complainant or defendant, before the courts of his country.
It is from the records of these courts that we glean the story of his
life. He first appears as complainant in a suit at law which shows
his high [p379] spirit and audacity. The magistrates of Mentz had
neglected or refused to pay to Gutenberg the sum of money which he
claimed as his due. Gutenberg, waiting for his opportunity, caused to
be arrested the clerk or recorder of the city of Mentz, who happened
to be in Strasburg. This sudden arrest seems to have been a great
annoyance to the magistrates of Strasburg, who feared that it would
endanger the friendly relations of the two cities. At their request he
consented to relax his hold on the unfortunate clerk.[230] This is the
first plain proof we have of his residence in Strasburg in 1434.
In the same year he formally authorized his mother to act for him in
the adjustment of some business between him and his brother Frielo.
This authorization, which is recorded in the city books of Mentz and of
Frankfort, would imply that he was, or intended to be, absent.
In 1436 he appeared as defendant before the tribunal of Strasburg.
Anne, called Zur Isernen Thur (Anne of the Iron Gate), sued Gutenberg
for a breach of promise of marriage. The judgment of the court is not
given. Most writers on the subject believe that the suit was withdrawn,
and that the case was closed by marriage. After this suit, the name
of Ennel Gutenberg, who, according to Schoepflin, is none other than
this Anne, appears on the tax-roll of the city of Strasburg. It does
not appear that Anne had any noticeable influence [p380] over his
subsequent life; she did not follow him to Mentz; it is not certain
that she was living in 1444.
In the year 1439, John Gutenberg again comes before the court, and
again as defendant. The testimony brought out on this trial reveals
Gutenberg to us as an experimenter and inventor. The official
record[231] is long, and full of matter that seems irrelevant, but it
presents a curious picture of the time, which deserves study. This is
the judge’s statement of the case, as delivered by him on the 12th day
of December, 1439:
We,[232] Cune Nope, master and counselor at Strasburg, hereby make
known to all who shall see this writing, or shall hear the reading
thereof, that George Dritzehen, our fellow-citizen, has appeared
before us in proper person, and with a full power of attorney for his
brother Claus Dritzehen, and has cited John Gensfleisch, of Mentz,
called Gutenberg, our fellow-resident, and has deposed that the late
Andrew Dritzehen, his brother, had inherited from his deceased father
valuable effects, which he had used as security, and from which he
had realized a considerable sum of money; that he had entered into
copartnership with John Gutenberg and others, and [with them] had
formed a company or association, and that he had paid over his money
to Gutenberg [the chief] of this association; and that for a certain
period of time they had carried on and practised together their
business, from which _they had reaped a good profit_; but that, in
consequence of the speculations of the association, Andrew Dritzehen
had made himself personally liable, in one way and another, for the
_lead_ and other materials which he had purchased, and which were
necessary in this art, or trade, and which he [George] would also have
been responsible [p381] for and would have paid; but inasmuch as in
this interval Andrew had died, he [George] and his brother Claus had
requested with importunity of John Gutenberg that he should receive
them in the association in the place of their late brother, or else,
that he should account to them for the money that he [Andrew] had put
in the association; but that he [Gutenberg] was unwilling to comply
with their request, alleging, as an excuse, that Andrew Dritzehen
had not, as yet, paid his proper quota into the association. Now he,
George Dritzehen, believed that he was abundantly able to prove that
this agreement was just as he had represented: he had pleaded that
Gutenberg should take him and his brother Claus in the association,
in place of their late brother, for they were his lawful heirs, or
that Gutenberg should return the money which their late brother had
invested, or that he should at least give the reason why he would not
accede to their demand.
In answer, John Gutenberg had replied that the complaint of George
Dritzehen seemed to him very unjust, inasmuch as he could sufficiently
establish through many notes and writings (the nature of which George
and his brother Claus could have learned after the death of Andrew
Dritzehen), under what rules the association was formed. In truth,
Andrew Dritzehen came to him many years ago, and _had asked him to
communicate and to teach to the said Andrew many secrets_: it was for
this reason, and to comply with his request, that _he had taught him
how to polish stones, from which art Andrew Dritzehen had derived a
good profit_. Afterward, after a long interval of time, he [Gutenberg]
had made agreement with Hans Riffe, mayor of Litchtenau, to _work up
a secret_ for the fair at Aix-la-Chapelle, and they were associated
together after this fashion: Gutenberg was to have two shares of
the business, and Hans Riffe one share. This agreement came to the
knowledge of Andrew Dritzehen, who begged Gutenberg to communicate
and teach him this secret also, for which Andrew Dritzehen promised
to be his debtor, on Gutenberg’s own terms. In the meantime, the
elder _Anthony Heilmann had made the same request_ in favor of his
brother Andrew Heilmann; whereupon he [Gutenberg] had considered
these two applications, and he had promised, at their solicitation,
to make known to them the secret, and also to give and grant to them
the half of the profits, in this wise: that they two should have
one share, Hans Riffe one share and he [Gutenberg] one share; but
that, as a consideration, the two should give to him [Gutenberg]
160 guilders for the trouble that he would have in teaching them,
and _for the communication of the secret_, and that they should,
afterward, each give him 80 guilders additional. At the time when
they were determining their agreement it was [p382] understood
that the fair would be held that same year, but when they were all
ready, and prepared to work out the secret [_i. e._ to manufacture
the merchandise intended for the fair] the fair was postponed to the
following year. Thereupon, they [Anthony and Andrew] _had made request
that Gutenberg would hide nothing from them which he knew or would
discover of secrets and inventions_, and they at once proposed to him
to name his terms; and it was then agreed that they should add to the
sum first named 250 guilders, making in all 410 guilders; and that
they should at once pay 100 guilders in cash—of which sum, at that
time, Andrew Heilmann paid 50, and Andrew Dritzehen paid 40—so that
Andrew Dritzehen remained a debtor to the amount of 10 guilders. It
was also understood that the two partners should pay the 75 guilders
due and unpaid, at three different dates which were stipulated; but
before the expiration of these dates Andrew Dritzehen had died, still
in debt to Gutenberg. At the time when the agreement was made, it had
been decided that the accomplishment of their secret [the duration of
copartnership] should occupy five entire years: in the event of the
death of any one of the four partners, during this five years, _all
the implements pertaining to the secret_, and all the merchandise that
had been manufactured, should be vested in the remaining partners,
and that the heirs of the partner who had died should receive, at
the end of five years, 100 guilders. Consequently, and because the
contract, which is expressed in these very terms, and which contract
was found at the house of Andrew Dritzehen, fully set forth all these
stipulations, and those that preceded it, as he John Gutenberg hopes
to prove by good witnesses, he demands that George Dritzehen and his
brother Claus should deduct the 85 guilders which were still due to
him from their late brother, from the 100 guilders, and then he would
consent to return to them the 15 guilders, although he was still
fairly entitled, according to the terms of the contract, to several
years, before this money should be payable. As to the declaration made
by George Dritzehen that the late Andrew Dritzehen, his brother, had
taken much money by the pledge of his goods and of his inheritance
from his father, he did not think it worth consideration, for he
[Gutenberg] had not received from the goods or inheritance anything
more than he had before first stated, except a half-omen of wine, a
basket of pears, and a half-fuder of wine, which Andrew Dritzehen and
Andrew Heilmann had given to him; that, moreover, the two men had
consumed the equivalent of this and more besides at his house, for
which they had never been asked to pay anything. Moreover, when he,
George Dritzehen, demanded to be admitted in the partnership as an
heir, he knew very well that this claim was no better founded than
any other; [p383] and that Andrew Dritzehen had never been security
for him, neither for lead, nor for any other matter, except on one
occasion before Fritz von Seckingen; but he had, after his death,
satisfied this obligation; and it is for the purpose of establishing
the truth of these assertions that he demands that the depositions
should be heard.
The depositions contain the most curious portions of the pleadings, for
it will be noticed that Gutenberg and Dritzehen have not described the
secret. Gutenberg did not wish to divulge it, and Dritzehen probably
hoped to discover it in the evidence, which begins mysteriously and
dramatically.
Barbel von Zabern, the mercer, testified that on a certain night she
had talked with Andrew Dritzehen about various matters, and that she
had said to him: “But will you not stop work, so that you can get some
sleep?” He replied to her, “It is necessary that I first finish this
work.” Then the witness said, “But, God help me, what a great sum of
money you are spending! That has, at least, cost you 10 guilders.”
He answered, “You are a goose; you think this cost but 10 guilders.
Look here! if you had the money which this has cost over and above 300
guilders, you would have enough for all your life; this has cost me at
least 500 guilders. It is but a trifle to what I will have to expend.
It is for this that I have mortgaged my goods and my inheritance.”
“But,” continued the witness, “if this does not succeed, what will you
do then?” He answered, “It is not possible that we can fail; before
another year is over, we shall have recovered our capital, and shall
be prosperous: that is, providing God does not intend to afflict us.”
This dialogue puts two of the partners in a clear light: the domination
of Gutenberg and the faith of Dritzehen are perfect. Unmoved by the
cold distrust of shrewd Madame Zabern, Dritzehen persists in his work,
trusting confidently in the genius of Gutenberg and the success of the
process. “It is not possible that we can fail.” In the testimony of the
next witness we find the first clue to the secret.
Dame Ennel Dritzehen, the wife of Hans Schultheiss, dealer in wood,
testified that Lorentz Beildeck [personal servant to Gutenberg] came
on a certain day to her house, where Claus Dritzehen, her cousin,
happened to be, and said to the latter, “Dear Claus Dritzehen,
the late Andrew Dritzehen had _four pieces lying in a press_, and
Gutenberg begs that you will take them away _from the press_, and
that you will _separate them_, so that no one can see what it [the
tool or implement made of four pieces] is, for he does not wish that
anyone should see _it_.” This witness also testified that when she was
with Andrew Dritzehen, her cousin, she had assisted him night and day
when he was on this work. She also said that she knew very well that
Andrew Dritzehen, her cousin, had, during this period, mortgaged his
capital; but as to how much of it he had devoted to this work, she
knew nothing. [p384]
The nature or the purpose of this tool of four pieces lying in the
press is not explained by any of the witnesses. It seems that Gutenberg
feared that it would, when fitted together, be readily understood, and
would reveal the secret. His inquietude about it is also set forth by
Hans Schultheiss.
Hans Schultheiss testified that Lorentz Beildick came one day to his
house with Claus Dritzehen, where this witness had conducted him. It
was at or about the time of the death of Andrew Dritzehen; Lorentz
Beildick said, “Your late brother, Andrew Dritzehen, has _four pieces
lying down in_ [or underneath] _a press_, and Gutenberg begs that you
will take them out and separate them, so that no one will be able
to see what _it_ is.” Claus Dritzehen searched for the pieces, but
could not find them. This witness heard, a long time ago, from Andrew
Dritzehen that the work had cost him more than 300 guilders.
It is obvious that these four pieces were not a part of the press.
Properly put together, they constituted one tool. Another witness
repeats the story, describing this tool as _it_.
Conrad Sahspach testified that Andrew Heilmann came to him one day
when he was in the market square and said: “Dear Conrad, Andrew
Dritzehen is dead, and as you are the man who made the press, and know
all about the matter, go there, and _take the pieces out of the press,
and separate them_, so that nobody can know what _it_ is.” But when
this witness went to look after the press (it was on St. Stephen’s day
last) the thing [it] had disappeared. This witness said that Andrew
Dritzehen had once borrowed money from him, which he used for the
work. He knew that he had mortgaged his property.
It does not appear that there was any secret about the construction of
the press. Sahspach, who was not one of the partners, was authorized,
not to disjoint the press, but to remove and disconnect the form of
four pieces in the press, which seems to have been the key to the
secret.
The poverty and the subsequent despondency of Andrew Dritzehen are
described by Hans Sidenneger, who testified that Andrew had mortgaged
all his property. His honesty is acknowledged by Werner Smalriem, who
testified that he had lent him money and had been repaid. His anxiety
about his debts, and his death, which seems to have been the result of
overwork, are briefly related by Mydehart Stocker.
Mydehart Stocker deposed that the late Andrew Dritzehen fell sick on
St. John’s Day, or about Christmas time. When he fell sick, he was
laid upon a bed in the room of this witness. And this witness went to
him and said, “Andrew, how are you?” And he answered, “I believe that
I am on my death-bed. [p385] If I am about to die, I wish that I had
never been connected with the association.” Witness said, “Why so?”
He responded, “Because I know very well that my brothers will never
agree with Gutenberg.” Witness said, “Is not your partnership governed
by a written agreement? Are there not evidences of the nature of your
obligations?” Andrew said, “Yes. Everything has been done properly
by writing.” Witness then asked how the association had been formed.
Dritzehen then told him how Andrew Heilmann, Hans Riffe, Gutenberg
and himself, had formed a partnership, to which Andrew Heilmann and
himself had brought 80 guilders, at least, so far as he recollected.
When the partnership had been made, Andrew Heilmann and himself went
one day to the house of Gutenberg at Saint Arbogastus. When there,
_they discovered that Gutenberg had concealed many secrets which he
had not obligated himself to teach to them_. This did not please them.
Thereupon they dissolved the old partnership, and formed a new one.
[Here follows a repetition, substantially, of the statement made by
Gutenberg, concerning the indebtedness of each partner.]
The insolvency of Andrew Dritzehen is set forth in the testimony of the
priest who attended him before his death.
Herr Peter Eckhart, curate of St. Martin, said [as a priest, he
was not sworn], that the late Andrew Dritzehen sent for him during
Christmas week that he might have his confession. When he came to his
home, he found him ready to confess. He [the priest] asked him if
there was debt due by him to any person, or if any person owed him, or
if he had given or done anything which it was necessary that he should
reveal. Then Andrew Dritzehen told him that he was in partnership
with many persons, with Andrew Heilmann and others, and that he had
incurred an obligation in an enterprise to the amount of 200 or 300
guilders, and that, at that time, he was not worth a stiver.
Gutenberg’s need of money, and Dritzehen’s liability for money lent to
the association, are proved by another witness.
Thomas Steinbach deposed that Hesse, the broker, once came to him,
asking him if he knew where he could place some money, with little
risk of loss. Witness had recommended him to John Gutenberg, Andrew
Dritzehen and Anthony Heilmann, who needed money. Witness took up
for them 14 lutzelbergers, but he really lost 12-1/2 guilders by
the transaction. Fritz von Seckingen was their surety, and his name
was inscribed [as endorser] on the books of the house of commerce
[probably some kind of banking-house].
The most explicit evidence concerning this form of four pieces is given
by Lorentz Beildick, the servant of Gutenberg.
Lorentz Beildick testified that John Gutenberg, on a certain day,
sent him to the house of Claus Dritzehen, after the death of Andrew,
his brother, with this message—that he should not show to any person
the press in his care. Witness did so. Gutenberg had instructed him
minutely, and told him that Claus should go to the press and should
_turn two buttons, so that the pieces would be detached one from the
other_; that these pieces should be afterward placed in the press or
on the press; that when this had been done, _no one could comprehend
its purpose_. Gutenberg also requested Claus Dritzehen, if he should
leave his house, that he should at once repair to his house [John
Gutenberg’s], who had [p386] some things to tell to him in person.
This witness remembers perfectly that John Gutenberg was not indebted
to the late Andrew, but that, on the contrary, Andrew was indebted to
John Gutenberg. Witness also testified that he had never been present
at any of their meetings since Christmas last. Witness had often seen
Andrew Dritzehen dining at the house of John Gutenberg, but he had
never seen him give to Gutenberg as much as a stiver.
The bold manner in which Beildick denied the payment of money by Andrew
Dritzehen, seems to have greatly exasperated George Dritzehen, who
threatened him with a prosecution for false evidence, or perjury. There
was a scene in the court. George Dritzehen cried out, sarcastically,
“Witness, tell the truth, even if it takes us both to the gallows.”
Beildick complained to the judge of this intimidation, but it does not
appear that the affair had further consequences.
Reimboldt, of Ehenheim, testified that he was at the house of Andrew
before Christmas, and asked him _what he intended to do with the nice
things with which he was busy_. Andrew told him that _they had already
cost him more than 500 guilders_, but that he hoped, when the work
was perfected, to make a great deal of money, with which he would pay
witness, and would also receive a proper reward for his labor. Witness
lent him 8 guilders, for he was then very needy. Witness’s wife had
also lent money to Andrew. Andrew once came to her with a ring, which
he valued at 30 guilders, and which he had pawned to the Jews at
Ehenheim for 5 guilders. Witness further said that he knew very well
that Dritzehen had prepared two large barrels of sweet wine, of which
he gave one-half omen to Gutenberg, and one-half omen to Mydehart.
He had also given Gutenberg some pears. On a certain occasion Andrew
had requested witness to buy for him two half-barrels of wine, and
Dritzehen and Heilmann, jointly, had given one of these half-barrels
to Gutenberg.
That the work on which Dritzehen was engaged was of a novel nature may
be inferred from the fact that his visitors could not give names to his
tools or his workmanship. They speak of _it_, _that thing_, _the nice
things_, _the form of four pieces_, etc. Madame Zabern is surprised
at the cost of that thing; Reimboldt wonders what he intends to do
with these nice things. It is obvious that this mysterious work is not
that of polishing stones or gems, nor the making of mirrors, for it
cannot be supposed that these witnesses, and one of them a woman, would
be ignorant of the purpose of a mirror, or would grossly underrate
the value of gems, or polished stones. But there is one witness who
testifies that Dritzehen said his enterprise was that of making
mirrors. [p387]
Hans Niger von Bischoviszheim testified that Andrew Dritzehen came to
him and told him that he was in great need of money, for he was deep
in an enterprise which taxed his resources to the utmost. Witness
asked him what he was doing. Dritzehen then informed him that _he was
making mirrors_. When witness threshed his grain, he took it to market
at Molsheim and Ehenheim, and sold it, and gave Dritzehen the money.
This witness also corroborated the testimony of Reimboldt as to the
giving of wine to John Gutenberg. He took the wine in his own cart to
Gutenberg, who was then at Saint Arbogastus.
It may be inferred from this testimony that Dritzehen was still
deriving some profit from the old work of making mirrors.
Fritz von Seckingen testified that Gutenberg had borrowed money of
him, and that Anthony Heilmann was on his bond. Andrew Dritzehen, who
should have done so, evaded this obligation, and never signed the bond
at all. Gutenberg paid up the entire sum at the time of the last fair
during Mid-Lent.
Gutenberg’s partner gives some curious details about the partnership,
and intimates that the _forms_ were of metal.
Anthony Heilmann testified that, when he learned that Gutenberg wished
to take Andrew Dritzehen as a third [partner] in the company formed
for the sale of mirrors at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, _he begged
him with importunity to take also his brother Andrew_, if he wished
to do a great favor to him, Anthony. But Gutenberg told him that he
feared that the friends of Andrew would pretend that this business
[or secret] was that of sorcery, an imputation he wished to avoid.
Heilmann persisted in his request, and finally obtained a document,
which he was obliged to show to the two future partners, and about
which they found it necessary to have a consultation. Gutenberg took
the document to them, and they decided that they would comply with its
terms, and in this way the affair [of partnership] was settled. In
the midst of these negotiations, Andrew Dritzehen begged this witness
[Anthony Heilmann] to lend him some money, and he then said that he
would willingly oblige him, if he would give good security. And he
lent Dritzehen 90 pounds, which Dritzehen took to Gutenberg, at Saint
Arbogastus. . . . . The witness asked him, “What do you wish to do
with so much money? You do not need more than 80 guilders.” Dritzehen
replied that he had need for more money; that it was but two or three
days before the [vigil of] Annunciation (March 25), on which day he
was bound to give 80 guilders to Gutenberg. [Here follows an elaborate
explanation of the financial standing and the rights of each partner.]
After that, Gutenberg said to this witness that it was necessary that
he should draw his attention to an essential point [in the agreement],
which was, that all the partners were on a footing of equality, and
that there should be a mutual understanding that each should conceal
nothing from the others; and that this arrangement would be for the
common benefit. The witness was content with this proposition, and
communicated it with praises to the other two. Some time after this,
Gutenberg repeated his words, and the witness responded with the same
protestations as before, and said that he intended to be worthy of the
trust. After this, Gutenberg drew up an agreement as the expression
of this proposition, and said to this witness: “Consult well among
yourselves, and see that you are agreed on this matter.” They did so
consult, and they discussed for a long time on this point, and even
sought the advice of Gutenberg, who, on one occasion, said: “_There
are here now_ [p388] _many things ready for use, and there are many
more in progress; the goods you acquire are almost equal to your
investment in money. In addition to all this, you get the knowledge
of the secret art_.” So they soon came to an agreement, and it was
decided that the heirs of the deceased partner should have for that
partner’s investment, for the _forms_, and for all the materials, 100
guilders; but they should have it only after the five years. Gutenberg
said that this provision would be of great advantage to them, for,
if he chanced to die, he would abandon to them everything to which
he was entitled, as his share of the property; and yet they would be
obliged to give to his heirs only the 100 guilders, as they proposed
to do with each other. It was also decided that in case of the death
of any one of the partners, the others should not in any wise be
obliged to teach, to show, or to reveal the secret to his heirs. It
was a provision as favorable to one as to another. . . . This witness
also testified that Gutenberg, a little while before Christmas, sent
his servant to the two Andrews, to fetch _all the forms_. These forms
_were melted_ before his eyes, which he regretted on account of
_several forms_. When Andrew Dritzehen died, there were people who
would have willingly examined the _press_. He told Gutenberg to send
and prevent it from being examined. Gutenberg, in effect, did send his
servant to put _it_ in disorder, and to tell the witness that, when he
had the time, he wished to talk with him.
The testimony of the last witness is the shortest, and it is remarkable
as the only testimony which defines the work.
Hans Dünne, the goldsmith, testified to this effect: within the
past two or three years he had received from John Gutenberg about
100 guilders, which sum had been paid to him exclusively _for work
connected with printing_.
The testimony of eighteen other witnesses was taken,[233] but,
according to Schoepflin, Dünne’s is the last testimony on the official
record. The judge gave the following decision:
We, master and counselor, after having heard the complaint and answer
of the parties, the depositions and the testimony . . . and after
having examined the contract and the agreement. . . Considering that
there is a contract which fully establishes the manner in which these
arrangements were projected and carried out: We do command that
Hans Riffe, Andrew Heilmann and Hans Gutenberg shall make an oath
before God that the matters that have transpired are warranted by
the contract that has been cited; and that this contract had but one
supplementary agreement, under seal, which would have been [p389]
agreed to by Andrew Dritzehen if now living; and that Hans Gutenberg
shall also take oath that the 85 guilders have not been paid to him
by Andrew Dritzehen; and from this time this amount of 85 guilders
shall be deducted from the sum of 100 guilders, about which there has
been controversy; and he [Gutenberg] shall pay to George and Claus
Dritzehen 15 guilders; and, in this manner, the 100 guilders will be
paid in conformity to the contract that has been cited.
The oath, according to this form, has been taken before us by Hans
Riffe, Andrew Heilmann and Hans Gutenberg, with this qualification on
the part of Hans Riffe, that he was not present at the first meeting
[of the partners]; but that, as soon as he did meet with them, he had
approved of their action or agreement.
The taking of this oath, and the payment of the fifteen guilders by
John Gutenberg, terminated the suit in his favor.
The record is enough to give us a clear idea of the character and
position, if not of the process, of John Gutenberg. At this time,
December, 1439, and for some time previous, Gutenberg was neither in
poverty nor in obscurity. He had already acquired a local reputation
for scientific knowledge. He did not seek for partners or pupils;
they came to him. Among the number we find Hans Riffe, the mayor
of Lichtenau, whose confidence in Gutenberg, after three years of
partnership, is implied in his testimony. Anthony Heilmann, the lender
of money, seems to have been equally satisfied with his brother
partner. The action of the judge, in accepting Gutenberg’s oath as
conclusive, proves that he was a man of established character. The
deference paid to him by all the witnesses shows that he was not
merely a mechanic or an inventor, but a man of activity and energy, a
born leader, with a presence and a power of persuasion that enabled
him to secure ready assistance in the execution of his plans. His
reputation had been made by success. George Dritzehen said that his
brother had received a good profit from his connection with Gutenberg.
The eagerness and the faith of Andrew, the pertinacity with which
his brothers pressed their claim to be admitted as partners, the
solicitation of Heilmann on behalf of his brother, are indications that
the men were sanguine as [p390] to the success of Gutenberg’s new
invention. The expected profit was attractive, but it was not the only
advantage.
In that century it was not an easy matter to learn an art or a trade
of value: no one could enter the ranks of mechanics even as a pupil,
without the payment of a premium in money; no one could practise any
trade unless he had served a long period of apprenticeship. These
exactions hopelessly shut out many who wished to learn; but men who
had complied with all the conditions were often unwilling to teach,
or to allow others to practise. Many trades were monopolies. In
some cases they were protected by legislative enactments, like that
accorded to the Venetian makers of playing cards. So far as it could
be done, every detail of mechanics was kept secret, as may be inferred
from the old phrase “art and mystery,” still retained in indentures
of apprenticeship in all countries. One of the consequences of this
exclusiveness was that many mechanical arts were invested with unusual
dignity.[234] The sharply defined line which, in our day, separates art
from trade and mechanics did not then exist.
The testimony shows that Gutenberg had a knowledge of three distinct
arts. The one earliest practised, from which Dritzehen derived a good
profit, was the polishing of stones or gems. The second, was that of
making mirrors. Gutenberg was not the inventor of this art, but he was
one of the [p391] first to practise it.[235] The early German mirrors
were small, but they had broad frames, and were richly gilt and adorned
with carved or moulded work in high relief. Ottley thinks that the
press was used for pressing mouldings for the frames of mirrors, and
that the lead was used for the metallic face.
The third art is imperfectly described. If Dünne’s testimony had been
lost, it would not appear that this art was printing, for there is
no mention of books, paper, ink, types, or wood-cuts. The lead, the
press, and the goldsmith’s work on things relating to printing, could
be regarded as materials required in the art of mirror-making. But “the
thing,” and “the nice things,” which provoked exclamations of surprise
at their great cost, could not have been looking-glasses.
Dünne said, very plainly, that this art was printing; but Dünne’s
testimony could be set aside, and Gutenberg’s connection with
typography at the period of this trial could be inferred from other
evidence. The thoroughness of the workmanship in the books printed by
Gutenberg after 1450 is a thoroughness which could have been acquired
only by practice. Before he began this practice he must have devoted
much time to experiment and to the making of the tools he needed. No
inventor, no printer can believe that the skill [p392] he subsequently
showed as a printer could have been attained by the labor of a few
months or years. If it is also considered that Gutenberg was poor, and
that he collected the money he needed with great delay and difficulty,
the doubt may assume the form of denial. It is a marvel that he was so
well prepared at the end of the ten years which Zell says were given up
to investigation.
It would be gratifying to know the form in which the idea of typography
first presented itself to Gutenberg; but there is in this case, no
story like that of Franklin and the kite, or of Newton and the apple.
Zell, in the _Cologne Chronicle_, says that the first prefiguration of
Gutenberg’s method was found in the _Donatuses_ published in Holland
before 1440. That the xylographic _Donatus_, the only block-book
without cuts, was the forerunner of all typographic books, may not be
denied. That some stray copy of a now lost edition of the book may
have suggested to Gutenberg the superior utility of typography is
possible, but the suggestion was that of the feasibility of a grander
result by an entirely different process. For, although typography took
its beginnings in an earlier practice of xylography, it was not the
outgrowth[236] of that practice. It took up the art of printing at a
point [p393] where xylography had failed, and developed it by new
ideas and new methods. Typography was an invention pure and simple. In
the theory and practice of block-printing, there was nothing that could
have been improved until it reached the discovery of the only proper
method of making types.
It may have been from his experience in the melting and pouring of
lead, in the engraving of designs for the frames of his mirrors, in
the use of a press for the moulding of the designs for these frames,
that Gutenberg derived his first practical ideas of the true method
of making types. Whatever the external impulse which led Gutenberg
to printing, it was so strong that it compelled him to abandon the
practice of all other arts. After this trial we hear no more of him as
a maker of mirrors, or a polisher of gems.
The record of the trial before Cune Nope is not the only evidence we
have that Gutenberg’s unknown art was that of typography. Wimpheling,
one of the most learned men of his age, and nearly contemporary with
Gutenberg, gives the following testimony concerning early printing in
Strasburg:[237]
In the year of our Lord 1440, under the reign of Frederic III, Emperor
of the Romans, John Gutenberg, of Strasburg, discovered a new method
of writing, which is a great good, and almost a divine benefit to the
world. He was the first in the city of Strasburg who invented that art
of impressing which the Latin peoples call printing. He afterward went
to Mentz, and happily perfected his invention.
In another book, in which Wimpheling pays compliment to the
intelligence of the people of Strasburg, he writes:
Your city is acknowledged to excel most other cities by its
origination of the art of printing, which was afterward perfected in
Mentz.
The _Chronicle of Cologne_[238] is as explicit as to date, but not as
to place. It specifies 1440 as the date of the discovery of printing
“in the manner that is now generally used.” [p394]
The evidence of the witnesses on the trial agrees with the testimony
afforded by the chronicles: it is plain that Gutenberg had not
perfected his invention in 1439. From his lonely room in the ruined
monastery of Saint Arbogastus, to which he retreated for the sake of
secrecy, Gutenberg gave work to Dünne, the goldsmith, to Saspach,
the joiner, and to Dritzehen, his old workman. It would seem that
they were not producing work for sale, but were making tools which
required a great deal of labor. Dritzehen worked night and day, Madame
Schultheiss helping him. At the death of Dritzehen, the work expended
on the art had cost a great deal of money, but it was still incomplete.
The testimony shows that it had been intended that the salable work
to be produced by the partnership should be exposed for sale at the
great fair of Aix-la-Chapelle in the summer of 1439. The postponement
of this fair[239] to the year 1440 was a grave disappointment. If the
object of the partnership was the making of popular books of devotion,
we can understand the reasonableness of the hopes of great profit
when the books should be laid before the pious pilgrims. The sudden
death of Andrew Dritzehen was the occasion of more delay. Gutenberg,
fearing that the public, or George Dritzehen, would get possession of
the secret, melted the forms and suspended the work. Then followed a
litigation which lasted nearly one year, during which period it seems
no work was done.
[Illustration: A Medieval Press.
[From Duverger.]]
There are many conflicting opinions about the character of the printing
so obscurely mentioned in the testimony of the witnesses. Schoepflin
says it was block-printing. In the four pieces lying in the press,
he sees four pages of engraved [p395] blocks; in the two buttons,
which Dr. Van der Linde says are improperly translated by him as two
screws, he finds a screw chase that held the four pages together.
This conjecture is in every way improbable. All the processes of
block-printing should have been as well known at that time in Strasburg
as they were in Venice, Augsburg and Nuremberg. Something more novel
than this form of printing would have been required to secure the
coöperation of shrewd men like Riffe and Heilmann. The enthusiasm of
Dritzehen, and the eagerness of all parties to learn the new art, and
to have a share in its profits, cannot be satisfactorily explained by
the conjecture that this art was simple block-printing.[240] [p396]
Gutenberg may have begun his experiments in typography by the use
of engraved types or punches of wood;[241] but he must have soon
discovered the defects and limitations of xylography and have reached
the unalterable conclusion that useful types could be made of metal
only.
There is no plausibility in the theory of Fischer, that the thing of
four pieces was a form of four pages or columns of types of wood. Nor
is there any evidence that Gutenberg had then done any practical work.
The practice of printing in Dritzehen’s house cannot be inferred from
the presence of a press, for there is no notice of paper, printed
sheets or books. It does not seem that there was a mystery about the
press. It was not the press, but what was in it, concerning which the
people were curious. It was the imperfectly described implement of four
pieces which gave the partners anxiety. [p397]
Nor was the tool of four pieces the only object of value. Gutenberg
assured the partners that the things had cost him nearly as much as he
asked of them for their shares in the enterprise, but more were to be
made. In the event of the death of a partner, his heirs were to be paid
their claim on the _forms_ and tools. When Dritzehen died, Gutenberg
sent for _all the forms_, which were melted before his eyes,[242] which
act he subsequently regretted on account of the _forms_. It was a rash
act, but Gutenberg’s fears were aroused, and he preferred to destroy
the tools rather than allow George Dritzehen to get a knowledge of his
secret.
In the practice of printing, the word form means a collection
of composed types, arranged in readable order, secured together
as one piece, in an iron band or chase, and prepared to receive
impression.[243] In all printing offices it has this meaning. That the
forms so frequently mentioned in this record of the trial were of metal
is clearly implied in the statement [p398] that Gutenberg melted them.
These forms, or formens, were, without doubt, implements connected with
typography; but whether they were types, or matrices, or moulds, or a
collection of types, is not so clear. If they were types, it will seem
strange that they were not accurately described as letters of metal
by some of the witnesses who saw them. If we regard them as matrices,
they may have been “the nice things” alluded to by Reimbolt, the use
of which he did not understand.[244] It is possible that Dritzehen was
making matrices and fitting them to the mould. If the _forms_ were
matrices, they and the punches could have cost five hundred guilders.
If the “nice things” were matrices, there must have been a type-mould,
and it was this mould which was the key to the invention. The mould
was the only implement connected with typography which would at once
lay open to an intelligent observer the secret of making types. Of all
his tools, this was the one that had received the greatest amount of
care and labor, and it should have been the one that Gutenberg would be
anxious to conceal. It may be supposed that the thing of four pieces
that was opened by two buttons was the mould.[245] Why it should have
been kept in or under the press cannot be explained. But if Dritzehen
was fitting up matrices, it was proper that he should have the mould at
hand. The conjecture that the thing of four pieces was a type-mould,
is not free from difficulties, but it seems the only one that makes
intelligible the action of the witnesses. [p399]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Type-mould of Claude Garamond.
_a._ The place where the body of the type was cast. _b. c._ The
mouth-piece in which the fluid metal was poured. _d._ The type as cast,
with the metal formed in the mouth-piece adhering to it.
[From Duverger.]]
The gravest difficulty in the way of this conjecture is, that the
type-mould of modern type-founders has, including the matrix, but
three detachable pieces. As this mould is substantially of the same
form as that known to have been used by Claude Garamond, the eminent
type-founder of Paris, in 1540, it has been supposed, and properly,
that this mould of three pieces must have been used before Garamond,
by all the early printers. But it was not the only form of mould. At
the beginning of this century every type-founder found it expedient to
use at times, a type-mould somewhat different in its construction—a
mould which, with the matrix, consisted of four detachable pieces.
The merit of this mould was its adaptability, within limits, to any
size of body. Its disadvantages were its difficulty of nice adjustment
and its liability to inaccuracy—faults which have obliged all
American type-founders of this day to discontinue its use entirely.
It is, without doubt, a very old form of mould, but it was never a
popular one, having been used chiefly for casting bodies of irregular
size.[246] Mr. Bruce has showed me one of these early moulds—a mould
long out of use, preserved only as one of the earlier relics of his old
type-foundry. Its construction is [p400] too complex for description
by words, or even by engraving; but it may be sufficient to say that,
with the matrix, it consisted of four pieces, and was so constructed as
to allow of an enlargement and nice adjustment in either direction of
the space provided for casting the body of the type. The pieces were
held together by stiff springs, but buttons could have been used for
the same purpose. When these pieces were connected it would be plain
to any mechanic that it was a mould; disconnected, its purpose would
be a riddle. This peculiarity, coupled with the well known fact that
Gutenberg subsequently made at Mentz, three fonts of types on bodies of
different size, but closely approximating each other, lead me to the
belief that this tool of four pieces should have been some kind of an
adjustable type-mould.
The only book which can be offered with plausibility as the work of
Gutenberg in Strasburg is a _Donatus_, of which four leaves are now
preserved in the National Library at Paris. This _Donatus_ is a small
quarto, containing twenty-seven lines to the page. The similarity of
the types of this book, both in face and body, to those of the _Bible
of 42 lines_, suggests the thought that both books were the work of the
same printer; but the cut of the letters, the founding of the types and
the printing of the book are vastly inferior.
It is possible that Gutenberg may have printed some books at Strasburg,
but we do not know anything about them. There were many difficulties
connected with the proper development of typography, and he may have
labored over them many years without any satisfactory result.[247] His
earlier experience could not have been materially different from that
of other inventors: he may have been kept for years on the threshold
of success, vainly trying to remove some obstruction which blocked up
his way. If we suppose that Gutenberg [p401] began, as a novice would
probably begin, by founding types of soft lead in moulds of sand, the
printer will understand why he would condemn the types made by this
method. If he afterward made a mould of hard metal, and founded types
in matrices of brass, we can understand that, in the beginning, he had
abundant reason to reject his first types for inaccuracies of body and
irregularities of height and lining. To him as to all true inventors,
there could be no patching up of defects in plan or in construction. It
was necessary to throw away all the defective work and to begin anew.
Experiments like these consume a great deal of time and quite as much
of money. The testimony shows that the money contributed by some of the
partners in the association had been collected with difficulty. We may
suppose that when this had been spent to no purpose, they were unable
or unwilling to contribute any more.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of a Donatus attributed to
Gutenberg at Strasburg.
[From Bernard.]]
It may be that the failure of the Strasburg associates was due solely
to the audacity of Gutenberg, whose plans were always beyond his
pecuniary ability. Even then he may have purposed the printing of
the great _Bible of 36 lines_ in three volumes, which he afterward
completed in an admirable manner. In trying to accomplish much, he may
have failed to do anything of [p402] value. Whatever the reason, it
is certain that his partners abandoned Gutenberg and his invention. We
read no more of Riffe and Heilmann in connection with typography.
There is evidence that Gutenberg was financially embarrassed after the
trial. On the second day of January, 1441, Gutenberg and the knight
Luthold von Ramstein gave security for the annual payment of five
pounds to the Chapter of St. Thomas at Strasburg, in consideration of
the present sum of one hundred pounds paid by the chapter to Gutenberg.
On the fifteenth day of December, 1442, John Gutenberg and Martin
Brether sold to the same corporation for the present sum of eighty
pounds, an annual income of four pounds, from the revenues of the town
of Mentz. Gutenberg had inherited this income from his uncle, Johan
Lehheimer, secular judge of that city. The tax-book of the city shows
that he was in arrear for taxes between the years 1436 and 1440. In
the tax-book for 1443, it is plainly recorded that Gutenberg’s tax was
paid by the Ennel Gutenbergen who is supposed to have been his wife.
Gutenberg had reason to be disheartened. He had spent all his money;
had alienated his partners; had apparently wasted a great deal of
time in fruitless experiments; had damaged his reputation as a man of
business, and seemed further from success than when he revealed his
plans to his partners.
It is the common belief that Gutenberg went direct from Strasburg to
Mentz. Winaricky, on the contrary, says that he forsook Strasburg for
the University of Prague, at which institution he took the degree of
bachelor of arts in 1445, and in which city he resided, until it was
besieged, and he was obliged to leave, in 1448. There is no trustworthy
authority for either statement. The period in his life between 1442 and
1448 is blank, but it is not probable that he was idle.
[p403]
XXI
Gutenberg and his Earlier Work at Mentz.
Gutenberg appears in Mentz as a Borrower of Money . . . Was then
Ready to Begin as a Printer . . . Donatus of 1451 . . . Letters of
Indulgence of 1454 and 1455 . . . Made from Founded Types . . .
Circumstances attending their sale . . . Fac-simile of Holbein’s
Satire . . . Fac-simile of the Letter dated 1454, with a Translation
. . . Almanac of 1455 . . . Gutenberg’s two Bibles . . . Dates of
Publication Uncertain . . . Bible of 36 lines, with Fac-simile . . .
Evidences of its probable Priority . . . Apparently an Unsuccessful
Book . . . John Fust, with Portrait . . . Fust’s Contract with
Gutenberg in 1450 . . . Probable Beginning of the Bible of 42 lines
. . . Description of Book, with Fac-simile . . . Colophon of the
Illuminator . . . Must have been Printed before 1456 . . . Fust
brings Suit against Gutenberg . . . Official Record of the Trial
. . . Gutenberg’s Inability to pay his debt . . . Suit was a Surprise
. . . Portrait of Gutenberg . . . Fust deposes Gutenberg and installs
Schœffer at the head of the Office.
* * * * *
There is material in this event for an affecting drama: a genial
inventor, indefatigably occupied in realizing an idea, an usurious and
crafty money-lender, abusing the financial carelessness of a genius,
to get him more and more into his power; a clever servant courting
the daughter of the usurer, and conspiring with him against the great
master; the inventor robbed of all the fruit of his exertions during
many years, at the moment that it was ripe to be gathered.
_Van der Linde._
* * * * *
Gutenberg’s last act upon record in Strasburg was the selling out of
the last remnant of his inheritance. The first evidence we have of his
return to Mentz is an entry, on the sixth day of October, 1448, in a
record of legal contracts, in which he appears as a borrower of money.
It seems that Gutenberg had persuaded his kinsman, Arnold Gelthus,
to borrow from Rynhard Brömser and John Rodenstein, the sum of 150
guilders, for the use of which Gutenberg promised to pay the yearly
interest of 8-1/2 guilders. Gutenberg had no securities to offer;
Gelthus had to pledge the rents of some houses for this purpose. How
this money was to be used is not stated, but it may be presumed that
Gutenberg needed it for the development of his grand invention. His
plans, [p404] whatever they were, met with the approbation of his
uncle John Gensfleisch, by whose permission he occupied the leased
house[248] _Zum Jungen_, which he used not only for a dwelling, but as
a printing office.
At this time Gutenberg was, no doubt, nearly perfect in his knowledge
of the correct theory of type-founding, and had also acquired fair
practice as a printer. Helbig thinks that he had ready the types of the
_Bible of 36 lines_. Madden says that he was then, or very soon after,
engaged in printing a small edition of this book. There is evidence
that these types were in use at least as early as 1451. Two leaves of
an early typographic edition of the _Donatus_, 27 lines to the page,
printed on vellum from the types of the _Bible of 36 lines_, have been
discovered near Mentz, in the original binding of an old account book
of 1451.[249] In one word the letter i is reversed, a positive proof
that it was printed from types, and not from blocks. The ink is still
very black, but Fischer says that it will not resist water.[250] As
this fragment shows the large types of the _Bible of 36 lines_ in their
most primitive form, it authorizes the belief that it should have been
printed by Gutenberg soon after his return to Mentz.
During the interval between 1440 and 1451, about which history records
so little, Gutenberg may have printed many trifles. He could not have
been always unsuccessful: he could not have borrowed money for more
than ten years, without [p405] a demonstration of his ability to print
and to sell printed work. It is probable that he had to postpone his
grand plans, and that his necessities compelled him to begin the
practice of his new art with the printing of trivial work. There is
evidence that the branch of typography which is now known as job
printing is as old as, if not older than, book printing. This evidence
is furnished in the _Letters of Indulgence_, which have distinction as
the first works with type-printed dates.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Donatus of 1451.
[From Fischer.]]
Three distinct editions of the _Letters of Indulgence_ are known. The
copies are dated 1454 or 1455, but are more clearly defined by the
number of the lines in each edition, as _Letters_ of _30_, or _31_, or
_32 lines_. Each _Letter_ is printed from movable types, in black ink,
upon one side of a stout piece of parchment, about nine inches high
and thirteen inches wide. The form of words is substantially the same
in all editions, and all copies present the same general typographical
features, as if they were the work of the same printing office. In all
copies, the presswork is good; they seem to have been printed by a
properly constructed press on damp vellum with ink mixed in oil. The
types [p406] of the three editions have a general resemblance,[251]
yet they differ seriously as to face and body. They were certainly
cast from different matrices and adjustments of the mould,[252] and
were composed by different compositors. In the edition of _30 lines_,
the types of the text are on a body smaller than English, and those of
the large lines are on Paragon body; in the edition of _31 lines_ the
types of the text are on English body, and those of the large lines
approximate Double-pica body.
[Illustration: Paragon Body.]
[Illustration: Pica Body.]
[Illustration: English body.]
[Illustration: Double-pica Body.]
[Illustration: [from De la Borde.]]
The types on Double-pica body are those of the _Donatus_ of 1451 and
the _Bible of 36 lines_; the types on Paragon body are those of the
_Bible of 42 lines_. The appearance of these types in the _Bibles_ is
presumptive evidence that the printer of the _Bibles_ was the printer
of the _Letters_. The small types are unique; they were never used,
so far as we know, for any other work. The large initials may have
been engraved on wood, but the text and the display lines were founded
[p407] types. The illustration on the previous page shows that although
the matrices were fitted with closeness, each type was founded on a
square body.
The circumstances connected with the publication of the _Letters_
require more than a passing notice, for they present the first specific
indication of a demand for printing. These circumstances give us a
glimmer of the corruption of some of the men who sold the indulgences—a
corruption which, in the next century, brought down upon the sellers
and the system the scorn of Holbein and the wrath of Luther.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of Holbein’s Satire on the Sale of
Indulgences.
[From Woltmann.]
The canon at the right absolves the kneeling young man, but points
significantly to the huge money-chest into which the widow puts her
mite. Three Dominicans, seated at the table, are preparing and selling
indulgences: one of them, holding back the letter, greedily counts the
money as it is paid down; another pauses in his writing, to repulse the
penitent but penniless cripple; another is leering at the woman whose
letter he delays. The pope, enthroned in the nave, and surrounded by
cardinals, is giving a commission for the sale of the letters.]
On the twelfth day of April, 1451, a plenary indulgence of three
years was accorded by Pope Nicholas V to all who, from May 1, 1452,
to May 1, 1455, should properly contribute with money to the aid of
the alarmed king of Cyprus, then threatened by the Turks. Paul Zappe,
an ambassador of the king of Cyprus, selected John de Castro as chief
commissioner for the sale of the indulgences in Germany. Theodoric,
archbishop of Mentz, gave him full permission to sell them, but
[p408] held the commissioner accountable for the moneys collected.
The precaution was justified. When the dreaded news of the capture of
Constantinople (May 29, 1453) was received, John de Castro, thinking
that Cyprus had also been taken, squandered the money he had collected.
De Castro was arrested, convicted and sent to prison, but the scandal
that had been created by the embezzlement greatly injured the sale
of the indulgences. As the permission to sell indulgences expired by
limitation on May 1, 1455, Zappe, the chief commissioner, made renewed
and more vigorous efforts to promote the sale. It was found that, in
the limited time allowed for sale, the customary process of copying
was entirely too slow. There was, also, the liability that a hurried
copyist would produce inexact copies; that an unscrupulous copyist or
seller would issue spurious copies. These seem to have been the reasons
that led Zappe to have the documents printed, which was accordingly
done, with blank spaces for the insertion of the name of the buyer and
the signature of the seller.
The typography of this _Letter of 31 lines_ is much better than that
of the _Donatus_, but it has many blemishes. The text is deformed with
abbreviations; the lines are not evenly spaced out; the capital letters
of the text are rudely drawn and carelessly cut. The white space below
the sixteenth line, and the space and the crookedness in the three
lines at the foot, are evidences that the types were not securely
fastened in the chase. These faults provoke notice, but it must be
admitted that the types were fairly fitted and stand in decent line.
They were obviously cast in moulds of metal; it would be impracticable
to make types so small in moulds of sand.
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of a Letter of Indulgence, dated 1454.
[From De la Borde.]
_Translation_.
To all the faithful followers of Christ who may read this letter,
Paul Zappe, counselor, ambassador, and administrator-general of his
gracious majesty, the king of Cyprus, sends greeting:
Whereas the Most Holy Father in Christ, our Lord, Nicholas V, by
divine grace, pope, mercifully compassionating the afflictions of the
kingdom of Cyprus from those most treacherous enemies of the Cross
of Christ, the Turks and Saracens, in an earnest exhortation, by the
sprinkling of the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, freely granted to
all those faithful followers of Christ, wheresoever established, who,
within three years from the first day of May, in the year of our
Lord 1452, should piously contribute, according to their ability,
more or less, as it should seem good to their own consciences, to
the procurators, or their deputies, for the defense of the Catholic
religion and the aforementioned kingdom,—that confessors, secular
and regular, chosen by themselves, having heard their confessions
for excesses, crimes, and faults, however great, even for those
hitherto reserved exclusively for the apostolic see to remit, should
be licensed to pronounce due absolution upon them, and enjoin
salutary penance; and, also, that they might absolve those persons,
if they should humbly beseech it, who, perchance might be suffering
excommunication, suspension, and other sentences, censures, and
ecclesiastical punishments, instituted by canon law, or promulgated
by man,—salutary penance being required, or other satisfaction which
might be enjoined by canon law, varying according to the nature of
the offence; and, also, that they might be empowered by apostolic
authority to grant to those who were truly penitent, and confessed
their guilt, or if perchance, on account of the loss of speech,
they could not confess, those who gave outward demonstrations of
contrition—the fullest indulgence of all their sins, and a full
remission, as well during life as in the hour of death—reparation
being made by them if they should survive, or by their heirs if they
should then die: And the penance required after the granting of the
indulgence is this—that they should fast throughout a whole year on
every Friday, or some other day of the week, the lawful hindrances to
performance being prescribed by the regular usage of the Church, a vow
or any other thing not standing in the way of it; and as for those
prevented from so doing in the stated year, or any part of it, they
should fast in the following year, or in any year they can; and if
they should not be able conveniently to fulfill the required fast in
any of the years, or any part of them, the confessor, for that purpose
shall be at liberty to commute it for other acts of charity, which
they should be equally bound to do: And all this, so that they presume
not, which God forbid, to sin from the assurance of remission of this
kind, for otherwise, that which is called concession, whereby they
are admitted to full remission in the hour of death, and remission,
which, as it is promised, leads them to sin with assurance, would be
of no weight and validity: And whereas the devout _Judocus Ott von
Apspach_, in order to obtain the promised indulgence, according to his
ability hath piously contributed to the above-named laudable purpose,
he is entitled to enjoy the benefit of indulgence, of this nature.
In witness of the truth of the above concession, the seal ordained
for this purpose is affixed. Given at _Mentz_ in the year of our Lord
1454, on the _last day of December_.
THE FULLEST FORM OF ABSOLUTION AND REMISSION DURING LIFE: May our Lord
Jesus Christ bestow on thee his most holy and gracious mercy; may he
absolve thee, both by his own authority and that of the blessed Peter
and Paul, His apostles; and by the authority apostolic committed unto
me, and conceded on thy behalf, I absolve thee from all thy sins
repented for with contrition, confessed and forgotten, as also from
all carnal sins, excesses, crimes and delinquencies ever so grievous,
and whose cognizance is reserved to the Holy See, as well as from any
ecclesiastical judgment, censure, and punishment, promulgated either
by law or by man, if thou hast incurred any,—giving thee plenary
indulgence and remission of all thy sins, inasmuch as in this matter
the keys of the Holy Mother Church do avail. In the name of the
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.
THE PLENARY FORM OF REMISSION AT THE POINT OF DEATH: May our Lord [as
above]. I absolve thee from all thy sins, with contrition repented
for, confessed and forgotten, restoring thee to the unity of the
faithful, and the partaking of the sacraments of the Church, releasing
thee from the torments of purgatory, which thou hast incurred, by
giving thee plenary remission of all thy sins, inasmuch as in this
matter the keys of the Mother Church do avail. In the name of the
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.
_Joseph, abbot of the Monastery of Saint Burckard,
Duly qualified to make this engagement._]
Eighteen copies of these _Letters of Indulgence_ are known, all bearing
the printed date of 1454 or of 1455. The places where they were sold
having been written on the document by the seller, we discover that
they must have been sold over a large territory, for one was issued at
Copenhagen, another at Nuremberg, and another at Cologne. The large
number of copies preserved is evidence that many copies must have
[p410] been printed. It is probable that Gutenberg was required to
compose and print the form at three different times; but we do not
know why he found it necessary to make a new face of text type for the
second and third editions,[253] for it is very plain that the types of
the first edition were not worn out.
_The Appeal of Christianity against the Turks_, sometimes called the
_Almanac of 1455_, is another small work attributed to Gutenberg. It is
a little quarto of six printed leaves, in German verse, in the large
type of the _Bible of 36 lines_. As it contains a calendar for the
year 1455, it is supposed that it was printed at the close of 1454.
Its typographical appearance is curious: the type was large, the page
was narrow, and the compositor run the lines together as in prose,
marking the beginning of every verse with a capital, and its ending
by a fanciful arrangement ·:· of four full points. It is the first
typographic work in German, and the first work in that language which
can be attributed to Gutenberg. But one copy of this book is known.
Gutenberg’s fame as a great printer is more justly based on his two
editions in folio of the _Holy Bible_ in Latin. The breadth of his
mind, and his faith in the comprehensiveness of his invention, are more
fully set forth by his selection of a book of so formidable a nature.
There was an admirable propriety in his determination that his new art
should be fairly introduced to the reading world by the book known
[p411] throughout Christendom as _The Book_. These two editions of the
_Bible_ are most clearly defined by the specification of the number of
lines to the page in the columns of each book: one is the _Bible of 42
lines_,[254] in types of Paragon body, usually bound in two volumes;
the other is the _Bible of 36 lines_,[255] in types of Double-pica
body, usually bound in three volumes.
It is not certainly known which was printed first. Each edition was
published without printed date, and, like all other works by Gutenberg,
without name or place of printer. They were not accurately described by
any contemporary author. In the sixteenth century they were obsolete,
and the tradition that they had been printed by Gutenberg was entirely
lost. When a copy of the _Bible of 42_ lines was discovered in the
library of Cardinal Mazarin, and was identified as the work of John
Gutenberg, it was not known that there was another edition. The _Bible
of 42 lines_ was consequently regarded as the first—as the book
described by Zell, which, he says, was printed in 1450. This belief
was strengthened by the subsequent discovery, in another copy of this
edition, of the certificate of an illuminator that, in the year 1456,
he had finished his task of illumination in the book. More than twenty
copies of this edition (seven of which are on vellum) have been found,
and they have generally been sold and bought as copies of the first
edition.
The _Bible of 36 lines_ was definitely described for the first time
by the bibliographer Schwartz, who, in 1728, discovered a copy in the
library of a monastery near Mentz. In the old manuscript catalogue
of this library was a note, stating that this book had been given to
the monastery by John [p412] Gutenberg and his associates. Schwartz
said that this must have been the first edition. A still more exact
description of this edition was published by Schelhorn in 1760, under
the title of _The Oldest Edition of the Latin Bible_. He said that this
must have been the edition described by Zell.
The _Bible of 36 lines_ is a large demy folio of 1764 pages, made up,
for the most part, in sections of ten leaves, and usually bound in
three volumes. Each page has two columns of 36 lines each. In some
sections, a leaf torn out, possibly on account of some error, has
been replaced by the insertion of a single leaf or a half sheet. The
workmanship of the first section is inferior: the indentation of paper
by too hard pressure is very strongly marked; the pages are sadly
out of register; on one page the margins and white space between the
columns show the marks of a wooden chase and bearers, which were used
to equalize impressions and prevent undue wear of types. This section
has the appearance of experimental or unpractised workmanship. It is
apparent, almost at a glance, that the printer did not use a proper
chase and bearers, nor a frisket, nor points for making register.[256]
All other sections were printed with the proper appliances, with
uncommon neatness of presswork, in black ink, with exact register, and
with a nicely graduated impression, which shows the sharp edges of the
types with clearness.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Bible of 36 Lines, with
the Rubricator’s Marks on the Capitals. Verses 17 to 22 of the Sixth
Chapter of the Book of Wisdom.
[Photographed from a Fragment of the Original in the Collection of Mr.
David Wolfe Bruce.]]
The types of this book closely resemble, in face and body, many
letters being identically the same, the types of the display line in
the _Letter of Indulgence of 31 lines_, and of the _Donatus of 1451_.
In some features they resemble the types of the _Bible of 42 lines_.
It is possible that the types of each edition were designed and made
by the same letter cutter, and that they were made for and used by
the same printer. This opinion is strengthened after an inspection
of the mannerisms of the composition, which are those of the _Bible
of 42 lines_. The colon, period, and hyphen are the only marks of
punctuation. The lines of the text are always full: the hyphen [p414]
is frequently seen projecting beyond the letters. A blank space
was left for every large initial which, it was expected, would be
inserted by the calligrapher. Red ink was not used by the printer; the
rubricated letters were dabbed over with a stroke from the brush of the
illuminator.
[Illustration: Some of the Abbreviations of the Bible of 36 lines.
[From Duverger.]]
One copy of the book contains a written annotation dated 1461. An
account book of the Abbey of Saint Michael of Bamberg, which begins
with the date March 21, 1460, has in its original binding some of
the waste leaves of this Bible. These, the earliest evidences of
date, prove that this edition could not have been printed later than
1459. That it was done in 1450, as asserted by Madden, has not been
decisively proved, but the evidence favoring this conclusion deserves
consideration. Ulric Zell’s testimony that the first _Bible_ was
printed in 1450 from missal-like types,[257] points with directness to
the _Bible of 36 lines_, for there is no other printed Bible to which
Zell’s description can be applied. Its close imitation of the large
and generous style in which the choicer manuscripts of that period are
written marks the period of transition between the old and the new
style of book-making. The prodigality in the use of paper seems the
work of a man who had not counted the cost, or who thought that he was
obliged to disregard the expense. As not more than half a dozen copies
are known, it is probable that the number printed was small. Nearly all
the copies and leaves of this edition were found in the neighborhood of
Bamberg. This curious circumstance may be explained by the supposition
that the entire edition, probably small, had been printed at the order
of, or [p415] had been mortgaged to, one of the many ecclesiastical
bodies of that town. There is evidence that Gutenberg frequently
borrowed money from wealthy monasteries. The imperfect workmanship
of the first section is, apparently, the work of a printer in the
beginning of his practice, when he had not discovered all the tools and
implements which he afterward used with so much success.[258]
The _Bible of 36 lines_ should have been in press a long time, for it
cannot be supposed that Gutenberg had the means to do this work with
regularity. His office was destitute of composing sticks and rules,
iron chases, galleys, and imposing stones. Deprived of these and other
labor-saving tools, without the expertness acquired by practice,
frequently delayed by the corrections of the reader, the failures of
the type-founder and the errors of pressmen, it is not probable that
the compositor perfected more than one page a day. He may have done
less. Even if, as Madden supposes, two or more compositors were engaged
on this, as they were upon other early work, the _Bible of 36 lines_
should have been in press about three years.[259]
The newness of the types seems to favor the opinion that this must
be the earlier edition. The same types, or types cast from the same
matrices, were frequently used in little books printed between the
years 1451 and 1462, but they always appear with worn and blunted
faces, as if they had [p416] been rounded under the long-continued
pressure of a press, or had been founded in old and clogged matrices.
Gutenberg deceived himself as much as he did his Strasburg partners,
in his over-sanguine estimate of the profits of printing and the
difficulties connected with its practice. His printed work did not meet
with the rapid sale he had anticipated, or the cost of doing the work
was very much in excess of the price he received. The great success
which Andrew Dritzehen hoped to have within one year, or in 1440, had
not been attained in 1450. During this year Gutenberg comes before us
again as the borrower of money. If he had been only an ordinary dreamer
about great inventions, he would have abandoned an enterprise so hedged
in with mechanical and financial difficulties. But he was an inventor
in the full sense of the word, an inventor of means as well as of ends,
as resolute in bending indifferent men as he was in fashioning obdurate
metal. After spending, ineffectually, all the money he had acquired
from his industry, from his partners, from his inheritance, from his
friends,—still unable to forego his great project,—he went, as a last
resort, to one of the professional money-lenders of Mentz. “Heaven or
hell,” says Lacroix, “sent him the partner John Fust.”[260]
The character and services of John Fust have been put [p417] before us
in strange lights. By some of the earlier writers he was most untruly
represented as the inventor of typography, as the instructor, as well
as the partner, of Gutenberg. By another class of authors he has been
regarded as the patron and benefactor of Gutenberg, a man of public
spirit, who had the wit to see the great value of Gutenberg’s new art,
and the courage to unite his fortunes with those of the needy inventor.
This latter view has been popular: to this day, Fust is thoroughly
identified with all the honors of the invention. The unreasonableness
of this pretension has sent other writers to the opposite extreme.
During the present century, Fust has been frequently painted as a
greedy and crafty speculator, who took a mean advantage of the needs of
Gutenberg, and basely robbed him of the fruits of his invention.[261]
[Illustration: John Fust.
[From Maittaire.]]
It is possible that Gutenberg knew John Fust, the money-lender,
through business relations with Fust’s brother, James, the goldsmith;
for we have seen that, during his experiments in Strasburg, Gutenberg
had work done by two goldsmiths. What projects Gutenberg unfolded to
John Fust, and what allurements he set forth, are not known; but the
wary money-lender would not have hazarded a guilder on Gutenberg’s
invention, if he had not been convinced of its value and of Gutenberg’s
ability. John Fust knew that there was some risk in the enterprise, for
it is probable that he had heard of [p418] the losses of Dritzehen,
Riffe and Heilmann. In making an alliance with the inventor, Fust
neglected none of the precautions of a money-lender. He really added to
them, insisting on terms through which he expected to receive all the
advantages of a partnership without its liabilities.[262]
The terms were hard. But Gutenberg had the firmest faith in the success
of his invention: in his view it was not only to be successful, but
so enormously profitable that he could well afford to pay all the
exactions of the money-lender. The object of the partnership is not
explicitly stated, but it was, without doubt, the business of printing
and publishing text books, and, more especially, the production of
a grand edition of the _Bible_, the price of a fair manuscript copy
of which, at that time, was five hundred guilders. The expense that
would be made in printing a large edition of this work seemed trivial
in comparison with the sum which Gutenberg dreamed would be readily
paid for the new books. But the expected profit was not the only
allurement. Gutenberg was, no doubt, completely dominated by the idea
that necessity was laid on him—that he must demonstrate the utility
and grandeur of his invention,—and this must be done whether the
demonstration beggared or enriched him. After sixteen years of labor,
almost if not entirely fruitless, he snatched at the partnership with
Fust as the only means by which he could realize the great purpose of
his life. The overruling power of the money-lender was shown in the
[p419] begining of the partnership. Gutenberg had ready the types
of the _Bible of 36 lines_, and had, perhaps, printed a few copies
of the work—too few to supply the demand. Another edition could have
been printed without delay, but it was decided that this new edition
should be in a smaller type and in two volumes. It was intended that
the cost of the new edition should be about one-third less than that of
the _Bible of 36 lines_. Gutenberg was, consequently, obliged to cut
a new face and found a new font of types, which, by the terms of the
agreement, were to be mortgaged to Fust.
Fust did not assist Gutenberg as he should have done. Instead of paying
the 800 guilders at once, as was implied in the agreement, he allowed
two years to pass before this amount was fully paid. The equipment of
the printing office with new types was sadly delayed. At the end of the
two years, when Gutenberg was ready to print, he needed for the next
year’s expenses, and for the paper and vellum for the entire edition,
more than the 300 guilders allowed to him by the agreement of 1450.
Fust, perceiving the need of Gutenberg, saw also his opportunity for a
stroke in finance, which would assist him in the designs which he seems
to have entertained from the beginning. He proposed a modification of
the contract—to commute the annual payment of 300 guilders for the
three successive years by the immediate payment of 800 guilders. As
an offset to the loss Gutenberg would sustain by this departure from
the contract, Fust proposed to remit his claim to interest on the
800 guilders that had been paid. Gutenberg, eager for the money, and
credulous, assented to these modifications.
The delays and difficulties which Gutenberg encountered in the printing
of this edition were great, but no part of the work was done hastily
or unadvisedly. He may not have received practical education as a
book-maker, but he had the rare good sense to accept instruction from
those who had. The _Bible of 42 lines_ was obviously planned by an
adept in all the book-making skill of his time. It was laid out in 66
[p420] sections, for the most part of 10 leaves each. To facilitate
the division of the book in parts (so that it could be bound, if
necessary for the convenience of the reader, in ten thin volumes),
some of the sections have but 4, some 11, and some 12 leaves. The book
proper, without the summary of contents, consists of 1282 printed
pages, 2 columns to the page, and, for the most part, with 42 lines to
the column.[263]
A wide margin was allowed for the ornamental borders, without which
no book of that time was complete, and large spaces were also left
in the text for the great initial letters. It was expected that the
purchaser of the book would have the margins and spaces covered with
the fanciful designs and bright colors of the illuminator. In some
copies, this work of illumination was admirably done; in others it was
badly done or entirely neglected. The rubrics were roughly made by
dabbing a brush filled with red ink over a letter printed in black. On
the pages of 40 lines, the summaries of chapters were printed in red
ink; on other pages the summaries were written, sometimes in red and
sometimes in black ink. [p421] It would seem that it was Gutenberg’s
original intention to print all the summaries in red ink, and that he
was obliged, for some unknown reason, to have them written in.
The general effect of the typography is that of excessive blackness,—an
effect which seems to have been made of set purpose, for the designer
of the types made but sparing use of hair lines. It may be that the
avoidance of hair lines was caused by difficulties of type-founding.
The type-founding was properly done: the types have solid faces and
stand in line. The letters are not only black but condensed, and are
so closely connected that they seem to have been spread by pressure.
Double letters and abbreviations were freely used. Judged by modern
standards, the types are ungraceful; the text letters are too dense and
black, and the capitals are of rude form, obscure, and too small for
the text. The presswork is unequal: on some vellum copies, the types
are clearly and sharply printed; on other copies, they show muddily
from excess of ink. On the paper copies, the ink is usually of a full
black, but there are pages on paper and on vellum, in which, for lack
of ink and impression,[264] the color is of a grimy gray-black. Van der
Linde and others say that the ink will not resist water, but the ink on
the fragments of vellum belonging to Mr. Bruce stood a severe test by
water, without any weakening of color. The register on the paper copies
is very good; on the vellum copies it is offensively irregular, a plain
proof that the vellum had been dampened, and had shrunk or twisted
before the second side was printed.
It has been said that this _Bible of 42 lines_ was printed with intent
to cheat purchasers, so that it might be sold as a manuscript. There
is a legend that Fust did attempt the cheat at Paris, but there is no
good authority for the libel, which scarcely deserves examination.
There were, no doubt, during the fifteenth century, many who could
not perceive [p422] the dissimilarities between manuscript and
printed books, but these men were not book-buyers. To the intelligent
book-buyer, the features of dissimilarity were conspicuous.[265] It
is not at all probable that Gutenberg entertained any thought of
deception: he imitated his manuscript copy only because it was in an
approved style of book-making.
Although the types of this _Bible_ are obsolete, there is something
pleasing in their boldness and solidity to a reader who is wearied
with the small trim letters, light lines and apparently paler ink of
modern books. The effect of rugged strength is relieved by the flowing
lines, vivid colors and complex ornamentation of the odd borders and
initials which have been added by designer and illuminator. How much
of the pleasure derived from an inspection of the work is due to the
skill of the printer, and how much to the art of the illuminator, has
not always been judicially weighed by those who represent the book
as a specimen of perfect printing. It cannot be denied that the most
attractive features of the book are those made, not by printing, but by
illumination, but it is plain that the designs and ornamentation are
not of a character appropriate to the text. They would not be allowed
in any modern edition of the book.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Bible of 42 Lines,
with the Rubricator’s Marks on the Capitals. Verses 10 to 20 of the
Fifteenth Chapter of the Acts of the Apostles.
[Photographed from a Fragment of the Original in the Collection of Mr.
David Wolfe Bruce.]]
The workmanship of the printer in his own proper field is wonderful
when we regard the circumstances under which it was done, but it would
not satisfy the requirements of a modern publisher or book-buyer. It is
of its own time, with the faults of that time, in manner and matter.
The promise of legibility, which seems warranted by the bold and black
types, is delusive. The ordinary Latin scholar cannot read the book,
nor refer to any passage in it, with satisfaction. It is without title
and paging figures. The blank spaces which indicate changes of subject,
and give relief to the eye, were seized by the illuminator. Verse
follows verse, and chapter follows chapter, and one line chases another
with a [p424] grudging of white space and of true relief which is not
atoned for by the dabs of red in the rubrics, nor by the profuse wealth
of ornamentation in the centre column and margins. The composition is
noticeably irregular: the lines are not always of uniform length. When
a word was divided, the hyphen was allowed to project and give to the
right side of the column a ragged appearance. When there were too many
letters for the line, words were abbreviated. The measure was narrow,
and it was only through the liberal use of abbreviations that the
spacing of words could be regulated. The period, colon and hyphen were
the only points of punctuation.
The manuscript taken for copy was not strictly accurate, and the errors
of the scribe were repeated by the compositor. The liberties taken
by scribe and compositor in the making of abbreviations, and in the
spelling out of abbreviations, were a prolific source of error. It
was quite as much on account of the frequency of these errors, as the
obsoleteness of the types, that this famous edition was so soon laid
aside and was so quickly forgotten. It was supplanted by the editions
of the more scholarly printers of the sixteenth century, who collated
a great many manuscript and printed copies before they prepared a new
copy for the printer.
It is unfortunate that Gutenberg did not, as was customary with the
book-makers of that time, put his name and the date of printing on
the book. The omission was partially supplied by an illuminator who
suffixed the following colophons or subscriptions to his copy of the
book:
_First Volume._ Here endeth the First Part of the Old Testament of
the Holy Bible, which was illuminated, rubricated and bound by Henry
Albech, or Cremer, on Saint Bartholomew’s Day (August 24), in the year
of our Lord 1456. Thanks be to God. Hallelujah.
_Second Volume._ This Book was illuminated, bound and perfected by
Henry Cremer, vicar of the Collegiate Church of Saint Stephen in
Mentz, on the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin (August
15), in the year of our Lord 1456. Thanks be to God. Hallelujah.
As the second volume was illuminated nine days before the first volume,
it may be supposed that, on this copy, the [p425] work of illumination
was started on the sheets, as soon as they had been printed and before
they were bound. It is possible that the last sheet was printed in
1456, but it is a more general belief that the work was completed in
1455.
There is no tradition about the number printed. At the close of the
century, three hundred copies were regarded by printers of Italy as
a proper number for an edition in folio. It is not probable that
Gutenberg printed so large a number. Unbound copies were sold at
different times and places, not long after publication, for various
sums ranging from twelve guilders to sixty crowns.[266] It does not
appear that the books provoked any enthusiasm: no chronicler of that
time thought it worth while to give them even a passing mention. We
have to suppose that they attracted no more attention than the books
of a copyist. It appears, also, that the _Bible of 42 lines_, from a
mercantile point of view, was a very unsuccessful enterprise. This is
the evidence.
On the sixth day of November, 1455, Fust brought a suit for the
recovery of the money advanced to Gutenberg. As Gutenberg was unable to
pay the demand, we may suppose that the _Bible_ had not been completed,
or, had not met with a ready sale. The suit of John Fust has been the
occasion of discordant criticism. Dibdin fully justifies his action,
and intimates that Gutenberg was really a trickster, who would have
defrauded Fust if he had not resorted to summary proceedings. The
defenders of Fust, who are few, have to admit that he here appears
as a keen man of business, destitute of sentiment, and of ungenerous
disposition. Sympathizers with Gutenberg denounce Fust as a cunning
schemer, who had made the terms of the partnership rigorous with
the secret determination to get possession of the invention through
Gutenberg’s inability to keep his contract.
This is the record of the proceedings before the court: [p426]
INSTRUMENT of a certain day, when Fust produced an account and
confirmed it by an oath. In the name of God. Amen. Be it known to all
who shall see this public document or hear it read, that, in the year
of our Lord 1455, on Thursday, the 6th of November, between eleven and
twelve at noon, at Mentz, in the large dining-hall _(refectorium)_ of
the convent of bare-footed friars, appeared before me, notary, and
the witnesses to be mentioned hereafter, the honorable and prudent
man Jacob Fust, citizen of Mentz, and has, in behalf of Johan Fust
his brother, also present, shewn, said and exposed, that to the said
Johan Fust on the one side and Johan Gutenberg on the other, should
be administered the oath, according to judgment passed on both the
parties, and for which this day and this hour had been fixed and
the hall of the convent assigned. In order that the friars of the
said convent, who were still assembled in the hall, should not be
disturbed, the said Jacob Fust did ask through his messenger, whether
Johan Gutenberg, or any one for him, were present in the convent,
in order to finish the matter. At this message came into the said
refectorium the reverend Heinrich Gunther, pastor of St. Christopher’s
at Mentz, Heinrich Keffer, and Bertolf von Hanau, a servant of Johan
Gutenberg, and when they had been asked by Johan Fust whether they
had been authorized by Johan Gutenberg, they answered that they had
been sent by Junker Johan Gutenberg to hear and see what should happen
in this case. Thereupon Johan Fust begged leave to conform to the
stipulations of the verdict, after he had waited for Johan Gutenberg
till twelve o’clock, and was still waiting for him. He reads the
sentence passed on the first article of his claim, from word to word,
with its pretension and response, which runs as follows: First, that
he, according to the written agreement, should lend Johan Gutenberg
about 800 florins in gold, _with which he was to finish the work, and
whether it would cost more or less was no matter to Fust_; and that
Johan Gutenberg was to pay six per cent. interest for this money.
He had indeed lent him these 800 guilders on a bond, but Gutenberg
was not satisfied, but complained that he had not yet received the
800 guilders. For that reason, Fust, being desirous of doing him
some service, lent him 800 guilders more than he was bound by his
contract to do, for which 800 guilders Fust had to pay forty guilders
as interest. And, although Gutenberg had bound himself by contract
to pay six per cent. interest on the first 800 guilders, yet he had
not done so for a single year, but Fust had to pay this interest
himself to the amount of 250 guilders. For, at present, Gutenberg
having never paid interest, and Fust having been obliged to borrow
this interest from Christians and Jews, for which he had paid about
thirty-six florins, his payments, together with the capital, [p427]
amount to about 2,020 guilders, of which he demands reimbursement.
Thereupon, Johan Gutenberg answered that Johan Fust had agreed to lend
him 800 guilders, _with which money he was to arrange and make his
tools_, and that these _tools_ should remain as security for Fust.
But Fust had moreover agreed to give him every year 300 guilders for
_expenses_, and to advance also _wages_, _house-rent_, VELLUM, PAPER,
INK, etc. If, afterward, they did not agree, Gutenberg should then pay
the 800 guilders back, and the tools should be free from mortgage; it
should be understood, that with the 800 guilders he had to make the
_machine_, which was to be a pledge. He hopes not [that any one shall
pretend] that he was obliged to spend these 800 guilders _on the work
of the books_ [_i. e._, on vellum, paper, etc.] And, although it is
said in the contract that Gutenberg was to pay six per cent. interest,
Fust had told him that he had no intention of accepting this interest
from him. Moreover, he had not received the 800 guilders in full and
at once according to agreement, as Fust had pretended in the first
article of his claim; and as for the second 800 guilders, he is ready
to give an account of them, but declines to give him interest or usury
for them, and hopes that he is not bound by law to pay them. We pass,
therefore, sentence according to pretension and response: When Johan
Gutenberg has submitted an account of all receipts and disbursements
spent _on the work to their common profit_ [_i. e._, printing], this
work shall be added to the 800 guilders; if he has spent more than the
800 guilders, which did not belong to their common profit, he should
pay it back; if Fust is able to prove, on oath or by witnesses, that
he has borrowed the money on interest, and did not lend it out of his
own resources, then Gutenberg is bound by contract to pay it.
Now, after this sentence had been read in presence of the aforesaid
witnesses, Johan Fust has, with raised fingers, in the hands of me,
public notary, taken the oath by all the saints, that everything was
comprised according to truth and sentence, in an act which he placed
in my hands. He confirmed it on oath, as truly as God and the saints
may help him; and the contents of this document were as follows:
I, Johan Fust, have borrowed 1,550 guilders, which have been received
by Johan Gutenberg, and spent on our common work, for which I have
paid an annual interest, and still owe a part of it. Therefore, I
count for every hundred guilders which I have borrowed in this way,
six guilders per annum; and for the money spent on our common work, I
demand the interest according to judgment passed.
The said Johan Fust demands from me, public notary, one or more public
acts of this matter, as many and as often as he should want them; and
all these matters recorded here, happened in the year, indiction, day,
hour, papacy, month, and town aforesaid, in the [p428] presence of
the honest men, Peter Grauss, Johan Kist, Johan Knoff, Johan Yseneck,
Jacob Fust, citizens of Mentz; Peter Gernsheim and Johan Bone, clerks
of the city and diocese of Mentz, asked and summoned as witnesses. And
I, Ulrich Helmasperger, clerk of the diocese of Bamberg, by imperial
authority, public clerk of the Holy See at Mentz, sworn notary, have
been present at all the aforesaid transactions and articles with the
witnesses mentioned. Therefore, being requested to do so, I have
signed with my hand, and sealed with my common seal, this public act,
written by another, as testimony and true record of all the aforesaid
matters.[267]
ULRICUS HELMASPERGER, _Notary_.
The suit brought by Fust was, apparently, a surprise, for it cannot
be supposed that Gutenberg would have been so completely unprepared
to meet his obligation if he had not been led to believe that Fust
would postpone the collection of his claim. The enforcement of this
claim before the book was published, or at least before money had been
derived from its sale—taken in connection with the facts that the delay
in the publication of the book, and Gutenberg’s inability to pay his
debt, were largely due to the delay of Fust in furnishing the money
as he had promised—seems to warrant the charge that Fust meditated
the despoilment of Gutenberg at the formation of the partnership.
Gutenberg’s defense before the court was very feeble: it is that of a
man who knew he had no hope of success. He did not appear in person,
but trusted his case to his workmen. Fust was more adroit; he was
voluble and positive, and his relative, Jacob Fust, was one of the
judges. But the fates were against Gutenberg: the hard terms of the
contract he had signed compelled an adverse decision.
[Illustration: John Gutenberg . . . From an Old Print in the National
Library at Paris.
[From Lacroix.]]
That Fust did Gutenberg a grievous wrong is very plain; that
Gutenberg had managed the business of the partnership with economy
and intelligence is not so clear. At no period of his life did the
great inventor show any talent for financial administration. He was
certainly deficient in many qualities that should be possessed by a
man of business, and Fust may have thought that he was fully justified
in placing his money [p429] interests in the hands of a more careful
manager. This, a copy of the oldest engraving known of Gutenberg,
presents him to us as a man of decided character, not to be cajoled
or managed by a partner in business. The thin curving lip and pointed
nose, the strongly marked lines on the forehead, the bold eyes and
arrogant bearing of the head reveal to us a man of genius [p430] and
of force, a man born to rule, impatient of restraint, and of inflexible
resolution. We have but to look at the portrait of Fust to see that he,
also, was accustomed to having his own way, and that he and Gutenberg
were not at all adapted to each other as partners.
But Fust would not have broken with Gutenberg if he had not been
prepared to put a competent successor in his place. In Peter Schœffer,
a young man twenty-six years old, who had been employed in the printing
office, Fust discerned an intelligent workman who gave promise of
ability as a manager. Schœffer, who then hoped to win the hand of
Fust’s daughter Christina, was, no doubt, more complaisant than the
irascible Gutenberg. As he was afterward married to her, it may be
thought that she approved his suit in its beginning, and that her
influence with her father was used to its utmost in favor of the
removal of Gutenberg and the advancement of Schœffer. It was fully
understood by the three conspirators that Gutenberg could make no
proper defense; it was determined that he should be expelled from his
place in the partnership and that Schœffer should succeed him in the
management of the printing office. When every thing had been arranged,
Gutenberg was summoned to appear before the court.
The plot was successful in all points. Fust won the suit almost without
a struggle: under the forms of law, he took possession of all the
materials made by Gutenberg for the common profit, and removed them
to his own house. With the types, presses and books went also many
of the skilled workmen, and Peter Schœffer was at their head. From
an equitable point of view, Fust was amply recompensed, He got the
printing office that he coveted, and, with it, the right to use the
newly discovered art of Gutenberg. It appears that he was content.
There is no evidence that he afterward made any attempt to collect
the claim which was, legally, unsatisfied even after the surrender of
Gutenberg’s printing materials and the printed books.
[p431]
XXII
The Later Work of Gutenberg.
Establishes a New Printing Office . . . Calendar of 1457 . . . Not
probable that the Bible of 36 lines was printed at this time . . .
Gutenberg Embarrassed by Debts . . . Letter of Indulgence of 1461,
with Fac-simile . . . Catholicon of 1460, with Fac-simile and Colophon
. . . Indifference of Gutenberg to Fame . . . Pamphlets attributed
to Gutenberg . . . Celebration of the Mass, with Fac-simile . . .
Mirror of the Clergy, with Fac-simile . . . The War between the Rival
Archbishops . . . The Siege and Sack of Mentz . . . Gutenberg’s Office
removed to Eltvill . . . Gutenberg made a Gentleman of Adolph’s
Court . . . End of Gutenberg’s Labors . . . His Death in 1468 . . .
Disposition of his Types . . . His Services not fully Appreciated
. . . True Nature of his Invention . . . His Merit acknowledged
by Writers of his Time . . . Tablets of Gelthus and Wittig . . .
Permanency of Gutenberg’s Invention.
* * * * *
Why should we talk about monuments of bronze or marble to commemorate
the services of Gutenberg? His is a monument which, more frail than
any other, will survive them all: it is the Book.
_Madden._
* * * * *
Gutenberg had been legally deprived of his printing office and of the
exclusive right to his great invention, but he was not left friendless
and utterly impoverished. Nor was his spirit broken by this great
calamity. The reflection that Fust was owner of the materials made
for printing the _Bible of 42 lines_, and was about to enjoy all the
emoluments of the new art, aroused Gutenberg to rivalry. He was nearly
sixty years of age, but he was vigorous in mind, if not in body, and
evidently retained all his old power of persuasion. When he determined
to found a new printing office, he found helpers: Conrad Humery, a
physician, and also clerk of the town of Mentz, provided him with the
means, and some of his old workmen came over to join his fortunes.
Gutenberg had some materials toward the equipment of a new office.
Fust’s mortgage covered only the materials [p432] made with Fust’s
money for the common profit; it did not cover the large types on
Double-pica body, which were used upon the _Bible of 36 lines_, and
other materials which might have been made in Strasburg. As these types
were subsequently used in several little books which may be attributed
to Gutenberg, we may conclude that he retained the punches and matrices
in his own possession.
We have indirect evidence that the new printing office of Gutenberg
was in operation at the close of the year 1456. With the types of
Double-pica body he printed on one side of the paper, obviously made to
be pasted on a wall, a broad-side, now known as the _Calendar of 1457_.
Of this curious document, only the half of a copy has been found—a
fragment which contains the festivals and notable days for six months.
It is fairly printed in black ink on coarse paper.
It is the belief of several historians that Gutenberg, hot with anger
at the bad faith of Fust, in wresting from him the honor of printing
the first _Bible_, immediately undertook in his new office to publish a
rival edition of the same book, or the edition herein described as the
_Bible of 36 lines_. The annotation in one copy of the book of the year
1459, which is supposed to be the date of publication, accords with
the conjecture that the book begun in 1456 could have been finished in
three years. But there is no evidence that it was begun in 1456, while
there are many indications that it was done or should have been done
in 1450. Gutenberg had earned fame as a printer[268] in 1458, but no
writer of that time has said that he was then at work on the _Bible of
36 lines_. [p433]
We have evidence, also, that he was embarrassed by his debts. After
the year 1457 he was unable to pay the four pounds annually to the
chapter of St. Thomas at Strasburg, as he had agreed to do in 1442. The
chapter summoned him to appear before a court at Rottweil in Suabia,
in 1461, but to no purpose, for he was unable to satisfy this debt.
His printing materials were owned by Conrad Humery, and not liable to
seizure. It is by no means clearly established that he was, even then,
carrying on business in his own name. Helbig thinks it was the fear
of legal proceedings, if he had made himself very conspicuous, that
prevented him from putting his name on his books. This omission has
made it difficult to specify the books and pamphlets which are supposed
to have been printed by him about this time.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Letter of Indulgence of
1461.
[From Bernard.]]
One of these works is _The Letter of Indulgence of 1461_, an indulgence
granted by Pope Pius II to all who should contribute to the restoration
of a church at Neuhausen. It is printed in a new face of type, which
should have been made before 1460. The types of this indulgence
resemble those of the _Letters of Indulgence_ of _30 lines_ and of _31
lines_, but they were cast from different matrices and in a different
[p434] mould. They seem to be the production of an incompetent
punch-cutter; the letters were rudely cut, the matrices were not
properly fitted up, and the types do not line. The presswork, upon new
types, is good.
In the same face of type, but upon a body a little larger, Gutenberg
printed the _Catholicon[269] of 1460_, a great folio of 748 pages
of double columns, with 66 lines to each column. In some copies of
the _Catholicon_, the summary of contents is printed in red ink, and
ornamented with an engraving which fills one side of the first page.
The composition is as rude as that of the _Bibles_; the right side
of each column is always ragged from careless spacing. The colophon
annexed states that the book was printed at Mentz in 1460, but it
does not give the name[270] of the printer. The silence of Gutenberg
concerning his services is remarkable, all the more so, when this
silence is contrasted with the silly chatterings of several printers
during the last quarter of the fifteenth century,—of whom Peter
Schœffer may be considered as the first, and Trechsel of Lyons the
last,—each insisting that he, whatever others might have done before
him, was the true perfecter of printing. There is no other instance in
modern history, excepting possibly that of Shakespere, of a man who
did so much and who said so little about it. This colophon is the only
passage in this book, and, indeed, in any of his works, which can be
attributed to Gutenberg: [p435]
By the assistance of the most High, at whose will the tongues of
children become eloquent, and who often reveals to babes what He hides
from the wise, this renowned book, the _Catholicon_, was printed and
perfected in the year of Incarnation 1460, in the beloved city of
Mentz (which belongs to the illustrious German nation, and which God
has consented to prefer and to raise with such an exalted light of the
mind and of free grace, above the other nations of the earth), not
by means of pen, or pencil, or stencil plate, but by the admirable
proportion, harmony and connection of the punches and matrices.[271]
Wherefore to thee, Divine Father, Son and Holy Ghost, triune and only
God, let praise and honor be given, and let those who never forget to
praise [the Virgin] Mary, join also through this book in the universal
anthem of the Church. God be praised. [p436]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Catholicon of 1460.
[From Bernard.]]
The dignified and reverential language of this colophon, so unlike
the vainglorious imprints of Fust and Schœffer and the commonplace
subscriptions of Pfister, is almost enough of itself to show that
the printer of the _Catholicon_ was John Gutenberg. That he should
attribute the invention to the assistance and favor of the Almighty,
might be expected from a man thoroughly imbued with religious
sentiment, but why Gutenberg should, in this and in all other books,
neglect to mention himself as the man through whom the invention was
accomplished is an irregularity which cannot be explained. This neglect
is strange, for Fust and Schœffer had boasted, in an imprint to the
_Psalter of 1457_, of their skill as printers.
Five little pamphlets with texts in a new face of Round Gothic on
English body, and with chapter headings in types resembling the text
types of the _Bible of 42 lines_, have been attributed to Gutenberg.
They are: _A Treatise on the Celebration of the Mass_,[272] a book
of 30 leaves; _A Calendar_, or _An Almanac_ for 1460, in Latin, a
quarto of 6 leaves; _The Mirror of the Clergy_, by Hermann of Saldis,
“happily perfected and printed at Mentz,” a quarto of 16 leaves; _A
Treatise on the Necessity of Councils_, etc., a quarto of 24 leaves;
_A Dialogue between Cato, Hugo and Oliver about Ecclesiastical
Liberty_, [p437] a quarto of 20 leaves.[273] It is possible, but not
certain, that Gutenberg printed these books. _A Treatise on Reason
and Conscience_,[274] by Matthew of Cracow, a small quarto of 22
leaves, and _A Summary of the Articles of Faith_, by Thomas Aquinas, a
quarto of 12 leaves, printed in the types of the _Catholicon_, may be
confidently accepted as the work of Gutenberg. But one copy or fragment
of some of these works is known. Gutenberg may have printed many other
works which have been destroyed and forgotten.[275]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Treatise on the
Celebration of the Mass.
[From Fischer.]]
The existing copies or fragments of pamphlets and books printed before
1462 are enough to prove that printing met [p438] with a qualified
degree of appreciation. Gutenberg and Fust must have given employment
to many presses and workmen: there was a demand for printed work of all
kinds from almanacs to dictionaries, and the printers had reason to
believe that they would be amply rewarded for their labor. Their hopes
were destroyed by the sack of Mentz in 1462.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of The Mirror of the Clergy.
[From Bernard.]]
The city of Mentz then held the first place in the league of the free
cities of the Rhine, but her prosperity[276] was declining. Unceasing
civil strifes had driven away the more feeble part of her population.
In 1461, it was the wreck of its earlier greatness: it had but 50,000
inhabitants and was burdened with debt. Diether, Count of Isenburg, was
then archbishop and elector of the city, by the consent of the majority
of the inhabitants; but the rival archbishop, Adolph II, Count of
Nassau, supported by Pope Pius II, claimed the archbishopric, and made
war upon Diether. The consequences of the war, which nearly ruined the
city, are forcibly stated by Schaab. [p439]
This enmity between two archbishops was the cause of one of the most
terrible days to the town of Mentz. It was the 28th of October,
1462, the day on which Christianity celebrated the anniversary of
the apostles Simon and Judas. Mentz had remained faithful to the
archbishop Diether. Adolph therefore tried to conquer it by stratagem
and treason. Traitors were gained over in the town, who entailed upon
a half thousand of their fellow-citizens death, and endless misery
on many more. By the treachery of some wicked persons the town was
assaulted during the night between the 27th and 28th of October, 1462,
by the followers of Adolph; its noblest citizens were murdered, the
most of them robbed of their possessions, and driven from the town.
All kinds of mischief were committed toward those who remained behind.
Neither age, rank, nor sex was exempted. The booty was sold publicly
in the cattle-market, and the money divided between the soldiers.[277]
Of the expelled citizens only a few gradually returned in secret to
their relations. But the town, so populous before, remained empty, and
all industry was destroyed. The elector Adolph II found it necessary,
on the Saturday after St. Thomas’s day of the same year, to issue a
proclamation whereby he promised to all who wished to trade or to
exercise a profession in Mentz, protection for their persons and
possessions, to induce a few to return. A town, a short time before
flourishing with commerce and industry, had been robbed in a few days
of its privileges and utterly destroyed.[278]
In the general sack of the city, the house of Fust was burned, and his
printing materials were destroyed. During the three years that followed
no books of value were printed in Mentz. We do not know how Gutenberg
was affected: we find no authoritative statement that his printing
office was destroyed; it is not even certain that his office was then
in the city of Mentz. In the year 1466, the printing office which
contained his types was in active operation at Eltvill, a village not
far from the city. As this was the place where Gutenberg’s mother was
born, and where she had an estate, it is probable that Gutenberg found
some advantage in making it his residence, soon after his separation
from Fust. Eltvill was also [p440] the place which Adolph II had
selected for his residence before he made his attack on Diether. It
may be presumed that Eltvill was the place where Adolph first knew of
Gutenberg and his works.
In 1465, Adolph II made Gutenberg one of the gentlemen of his court for
“agreeable and voluntary service rendered to us and our bishopric.”
The nature of the service is not defined. Gutenberg was certainly not
a soldier. His German biographers do not believe that, as diplomatist
or politician, he had favored the cause of the destroyer of the
liberties of his native city. Helbig thinks the words used are purely
conventional, and that this distinction was conferred on Gutenberg
because he was connected with the old nobility of the city. It is a
more common and a more reasonable belief that Adolph recognized, to
some extent, the utility of Gutenberg’s invention, and took this method
to honor the inventor.
WE, Adolph, elected and confirmed archbishop of Mentz, acknowledge
that we have considered the agreeable and voluntary service which
our dear and faithful Johan Gutenberg has rendered to us and our
bishopric, and have appointed and accepted him as our servant and
courtier. Nor shall we remove him from our service as long as he
lives; and in order that he may enjoy it the more, we will clothe
him every year, when we clothe our ordinary suite (_unsern gemeinen
hoffgesind_), always like our noblemen, and give him our court dress;
also every year twenty mout of corn and two voer of wine for the use
of his house, free of duty, as long as he lives, but on condition that
he shall not sell it or give it away. Which has been promised us in
good faith by Johan Gutenberg. Eltvill, Thursday after St. Antony,
1465.[279] [p441]
The man who had invented an art which promised to renew the literature
of the world, who had printed two great _Bibles_, a _Latin Dictionary_,
and many minor works relating to religion, had surely rendered service
to the first ecclesiastical dignitary of Germany.
Here Gutenberg’s work ends. If not disqualified by the infirmities
of age from the management of his printing office, his position as
courtier must have compelled his attendance at the court of the
archbishop. Possibly, the rules of the court required Gutenberg to
withdraw from business. Whatever the reason, we see that the printing
office at Eltvill passed into the hands of his relatives by marriage,
the brothers Henry and Nicholas Bechtermüntz. It does not appear that
these men had been formally instructed as printers in Mentz. As they
acquired no rights of proprietorship in this office, as they were men
of middle age, rich, of noble birth and of high civic position, it may
be supposed that they took charge of the office to oblige Gutenberg and
the archbishop, and, perhaps, from a pure love of the new art.
In the year 1467, this printing office at Eltvill produced a book now
known as the _Vocabularium ex quo_, called so because these first words
of the work serve to distinguish it from other vocabularies. It is an
abbreviation of the _Catholicon_, and for that reason is described in
the colophon as an _opusculum_, or a little work; but it is a heavy
quarto of 330 pages. It is printed with the types of the _Catholicon_,
and shows the same peculiarities of composition. The colophon says that
“this little book was made, not by reed, nor pen, nor stencil plate,
but by a certain new and subtile invention . . . by Henry Bechtermüntz,
of blessed memory.[280] . . . Nicholas Bechtermüntz, and Wygand Spyess
of Orthenburg.”[281]
Gutenberg could not have abandoned his printing office with much
regret. He had abundantly demonstrated the [p442] utility of his
invention and his own ability as a printer by the publication of two
great books and many pamphlets. His art had been adopted in five German
cities: it was then making its entry in Rome; it was eagerly sought for
by the king of France. A future of unbounded popularity and usefulness
was before it. The young men to whom Gutenberg had taught the practice
of printing had so improved that they were his equals and superiors,
and the old man of quite seventy years could not cope with these
competitors. His ambition for pre-eminence in his own art, or for the
wealth that should have been derived from its practice, if he ever had
such aspirations, had to be given up. It was time that he should quit
the stage.
Gutenberg did not long enjoy the leisure or the honors of a courtier.
In February, 1468, he was dead. Nothing is known of the cause or the
circumstances of his death, nor is there any mention of a surviving
family. We have to conclude that John Gutenberg, the inventor of the
greatest of modern arts, died, weighed down by debts, and unattended by
wife or child. The disposition of his printing office is stated in the
following document:[282]
I, THE undersigned, Conrad Humery, doctor, acknowledge by this
writing, that his eminence the prince, my gracious and dear lord
Adolphus, archbishop of Mentz, has generously delivered to me certain
formen [matrices or moulds], characters [types], instruments,
utensils, and other implements connected with printing, which John
Gutenberg left after his death, which materials belonged and still
belong to me:[283] but, for the honor and the satisfaction of his
eminence I am bound, and I pledge myself, by this document, never to
put them to use but in the city of Mentz, and further, to sell them,
at a fair price, to a citizen of Mentz in preference to any other. In
testimony whereof, I have put my seal to these presents, which have
been made in the year of our Lord 1468, on the Friday after Saint
Matthew’s day [26th of February]. [p443]
In this strange document we again find the word _formen_, and the
_formen_ are specified first, as if they were the most valuable tools.
As types are specifically described, it is plain that these _formen_
must have been matrices or moulds.
Humery kept his word. The types and tools of Gutenberg remained with
Nicholas Bechtermüntz until his death. They were then transferred to
the custody or the possession of the Brothers of the Life-in-Common,
who had a printing office at Marienthal, near Eltvill, as early as
1468. That this place was regarded as a part of Mentz may be inferred
from the imprint they put on their first book, which is to this effect:
Dated in our city of Mentz on the last day of August, 1468. Eltvill was
the chosen residence of the archbishop, and under his jurisdiction, and
might properly be considered as a dependency or a part of the city of
Mentz.
For some unknown reason these Brothers of the Life-in-Common made no
use of the types of Gutenberg. In the year 1508, they were sold to
Frederic Hauman of Nuremberg, who established a printing office in
Mentz, and who used these types in many of his books.[284] The house
that had been occupied by Hauman as a printing office was subsequently
used for the same purpose by Albinus, a printer of [p444] the
seventeenth century. The types of Gutenberg were in this house at the
end of the sixteenth century, for Serarius, in his _History of Mentz_,
says that he had seen them there.[285]
Humery’s promise that, in the sale of the printing materials then
contemplated, he would give preference to a citizen of Mentz, was
obviously made at the request of the archbishop. It follows that the
types of the dead printer were then regarded as relics of value of
which the city should be proud. This request, which would not have been
made without occasion, seems to confirm the conjecture that Gutenberg
had previously sold the types, or at least the matrices, of the _Bible
of 36 lines_ to Albert Pfister, of the monastic town of Bamberg. It is
not probable that the deed of gift would have been clogged with this
stipulation, if there had been no sale.
This request of the archbishop is the only evidence we have that
Gutenberg’s work was appreciated, but the appreciation came when he
was dead. No contemporary writer noticed the _Bible of 42 lines_,
and no one during his lifetime suitably honored Gutenberg as a great
inventor. The archbishop, who knew the merit of the man, and pitied
his misfortunes, had not a word to say in the document that made him a
courtier of his services as an inventor or printer.
This indifference or want of perception seems inexcusable, but it was
not altogether without cause. The readers of that time were somewhat
familiar with printed impressions in the form of block-books, and
the _Bible of 42 lines_ may have seemed to them but a block-book of
larger size and of higher order. Knowing that engraving, ink, paper,
and impression upon surfaces in relief, were used in both processes,
the ordinary book-buyer could have inferred that type-printing was the
natural outgrowth of the older and well-known art of block-printing.
According to this view, Gutenberg invented little or nothing; he did
but little more than combine some old and well-known processes; he
distinguished himself more by the great size of his books than by the
novelty or merit [p445] of his process. It is but proper to expose
this sophistry, for it is perpetuated to this day in several books on
typography.
This grave error did not originate with the first printers, who knew
the full difference between type and block-printing. They knew that
Gutenberg was indebted to the earlier block-printers for a great deal
of his knowledge, but they knew as well that his system of printing
was a great and an original invention, for they clearly understood,
what the ordinary book-reader did not, the value of its characteristic
feature. And here it may be repeated, for the error is common and it is
necessary to be emphatic, that the merit of Gutenberg as an inventor
is not based upon his supposed discovery of the advantages of movable
types, but upon the system by which he made the movable types. All the
printers of that period recognized the fact that Gutenberg’s method
of making the types, or the type-mould, with its connections, was
the proper basis or starting-point of the invention. Schœffer, who
first printed a notice of the new art, speaks of it as the “masterly
invention of printing and also of type-making,” implying that the art
of printing was inseparably connected with that of type-making. John
Gutenberg, in the _Catholicon_, has not a word to say about isolated
types, nor about a combination of types: the admiration which he
invokes for the masterly invention should, in his view of the matter,
be bestowed on its system of making the types, or on the “admirable
proportion, connection and harmony of the punches and matrices.”
Gutenberg made no effort to secure for himself his rightful honors as
the inventor of printing, but his friends who knew the nature and value
of his services were not neglectful. We have abundant evidence that
Gutenberg was the man, and Mentz the place, where printing was invented.
Trithemius, from information furnished by Peter Schœffer, said, in a
book written before 1490, “About this time (1450), the admirable and
then unheard-of art of composing and printing books, by means of types,
was conceived and invented at Mentz, by a citizen of Mentz, named John
Gutenberg.” [p446]
Matthias Palmer, in 1474, said that John Gutenberg, a knight of Mentz,
had invented the art of printing books.
Ulric Zell’s testimony, given in 1499, is equally explicit.[286]
Polydore Virgil, in his treatise on _Inventions_, says, in the first
edition, that printing was invented by one Peter [probably Peter
Schœffer], but in the second edition of 1517, he corrected the error,
and attributed the invention to Gutenberg.
Wimpheling, in 1499, wrote and published at Heidelberg some verses
praising Gutenberg, in which he said, “Blessed Gensfleisch! through
you Germany is famous everywhere. Assisted by Omniscience, you John,
first of all, printed with letters in metal. Religion, the wisdom of
Greece, and the language of the Latins, are forever indebted to you.”
Two professors at Heidelberg, at an earlier date (1494), had written
panegyrics on Gutenberg as the inventor of typography, in which he is
honored above all the great men of antiquity.[287]
Two friends of Gutenberg who, no doubt, knew all about his invention,
put up tablets to his memory, in which his merit as an inventor is
distinctly acknowledged. The inscriptions on these tablets have not
received the attention which they merit. The tablet first placed was
put up not long after his death by his relative, Adam Gelthus, near
his tomb in the church of St. Francis. This is a translation of the
inscription:
To John Genszfleisch, inventor of the art of printing, and deserver of
the highest honors from every nation and tongue, Adam Gelthus places
this tablet, in perpetual commemoration of his name. His remains
peacefully repose in the church of St. Francis of Mentz.[288] [p447]
Gelthus properly describes Gutenberg’s invention as _the_ art of
printing. In a practical view, there was no other.
Equally instructive is the pithy inscription on the second tablet,
which was put up by Ivo Wittig,[289] in the court of the house of the
Gensfleisch family, where Gutenberg is supposed to have died,[290] and
which was then used as a law school.
To John Gutenberg, of Mentz, who, first of all, invented printing
letters in brass [matrices and moulds], and by this art has deserved
honor from the whole world, Ivo Wittig places this stone in
commemoration, 1508.[291]
Ivo Wittig, who had probably known Gutenberg, and who clearly
understood his process, is not content with a paraphrase of the Gelthus
inscription. In plain words, he specifies the key of the invention:
Gutenberg, first of all, made types in brass moulds and matrices. In
other words, it was only through the invention of the type-mould and
matrices in brass that printing became a great art. This inscription
shows that [p448] Wittig, then professor of history in the University,
and probably the most learned man in Mentz, regarded John Gutenberg as
the true inventor of printing.
Considered from a mechanical point of view, the merit of Gutenberg’s
invention may be inferred from its permanency. His type-mould was
not merely the first; it is the only practical mechanism for making
types. For more than four hundred years this mould has been under
critical examination, and many attempts have been made to supplant
it. Contrivances have been invented for casting fifty or more types
at one operation; for swaging types, like nails, out of cold metal;
for stamping types from cylindrical steel dies upon the ends of thin
copper rods—but experience has shown that these and like inventions
in the department of type-making machinery are impracticable. There
is no better method than Gutenberg’s. Modern type-casting machines
have moulds attached to them which are more exact and more carefully
finished, and which have many little attachments of which Gutenberg
never dreamed, but in principle and in all the more important features,
the modern moulds may be regarded as the moulds of Gutenberg.
Gutenberg’s merit as an original inventor, although never properly
recognized during his life, was never denied. But this merit was
disallowed and set aside after his death by the sons and friends of
Peter Schœffer. They said that printing was only half invented by
Gutenberg, and that the complete invention is really due to Gutenberg’s
assistant and successor. As this claim has been repeated by many
authors, it is necessary, for the vindication of Gutenberg, to review
the work and workmanship of Peter Schœffer and John Fust.
[p449]
XXIII
The Work of Peter Schœffer and John Fust.
Schœffer a Copyist at Paris in 1449 . . . Fac-simile of his Writing
. . . Enters the Service of Gutenberg . . . Psalter of 1457, with
Fac-simile of Types and Initials in Colors . . . Accurate Register of
Initial made by Painting the Cut . . . Evidences of Painting . . .
Fac-simile of Colophon in Colors . . . Different Theories concerning
the Method of Printing . . . Schœffer’s First Claim as an Inventor
. . . Psalter probably Planned by Gutenberg . . . Fac-similes of
the Types of the Rationale Durandi and of the Bible of 1462 . . .
Trade-Mark of Fust and Schœffer . . . Fac-simile of the Types of the
Constitutions . . . Jenson’s Mission to Mentz . . . Printing not a
Secret . . . Death of Fust . . . Partnership of Schœffer and Conrad
Fust . . . Fac-simile of Types of 1468 . . . Schœffer becomes a Judge
. . . Schœffer’s Claim to the Invention of Matrices . . . Statements
of John Schœffer and of Trithemius . . . Their Improbability . . .
Statement of Jo. Frid. Faustus . . . Its Untrustworthiness.
* * * * *
The man who enters the service of Gutenberg and Fust at Mentz after
1450, when the invention was completed, and has yet the courage to
declare in 1468, that he, Petrus, entered first of all the sanctuary
of the art, is, notwithstanding all his technical ability as a
typographer, a bragger, against whose information we ought to be on
our guard.
_Van der Linde._
* * * * *
Peter Schœffer was born at Gernszheim, a little village situated on
the Rhine, near Mentz, about the year 1430. Before he was twenty years
of age, he was copying books at Paris, as is clearly enough shown in
the colophon of an old manuscript book, which says that “this book was
completed by me, Peter, of Gernszheym, or of Mentz, during the year
1449, in the most glorious University of Paris.” This isolated fact is
the only authority for the assertion that Schœffer was a calligrapher,
engaged by Gutenberg to design the letters and ornaments of the _Bible
of 42 lines_. He may have been qualified for this service, but the thin
letters and angular ornaments of his colophon are not like the thick
types and flowing lines of Gutenberg’s Bible. Like all poor students
[p450] of his time, Schœffer was a copyist, but we have no evidence
that he was a calligrapher or an illuminator. As a student of the
University of Paris, he was qualified to read and correct the proofs
of a Bible in Latin, and this may have been the duty for which he was
engaged. If so, he was not really needed in the printing office until
the types were founded, or until 1453; but whether he came then or
before, it is obvious that he entered the printing office as a boy from
school, and that all he knew of printing was taught him by Gutenberg.
He proved an apt scholar. Fust’s confidence in his ability is enough to
show that he had added skill to his knowledge, and that, when Gutenberg
departed, he was competent to supervise and manage all the departments
of the printing office.
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of a Colophon written by Schœffer.
[From Madden.]]
Bernard thinks that Schœffer’s first work in his new place was
to change the appearance of the _Bible of 42 lines_[292] by the
cancellation of eight pages of 42 lines, and the substitution of pages
of 40 lines, with summaries printed in red ink. The extraordinary
licence then enjoyed by copyists allowed the compositor to abbreviate
the words of a manuscript copy [p451] of 42 lines, until they were
crowded into the space of 40 lines. The page was made of full length by
leading out, or by widening the lines with bands of stout parchment.
The first book published by Fust, after his separation from Gutenberg,
was the _Psalter[293] of 1457_, a folio of 175 leaves, which is almost
as famous as the _Bible of 42 lines_. Only seven fair copies of the
edition of 1457 are known, and all of them are on vellum. The leaves
of this book are nearly square, smaller in size than those of the
_Bible of 42 lines_, but, like that book, they are made up, for the
most part, in sections of ten nested leaves. The size of the printed
page is irregular, but most pages are about 8 inches wide and 12 inches
high. The Psalms are printed in types of Double-paragon body, and
the introductory or connecting text in types of Double-great-primer
body.[294] As the cut or fashion of these types is like that of the
Bibles of Gutenberg, it is possible that they were designed by the same
hand. The leaf was not broad enough for the large-sized types, but a
very large portion of it was given up to the initial letters and their
pendants, which are of unusual dimensions. The space allotted to the
print is small: but a few lines of the large types could be put on a
page, and on many pages it was necessary to use small types. The fault
of uneven or ragged outline on the right side of the page, which has
been noticed in the _Bible of 42 lines_, is repeated more strikingly in
the _Psalter_. Here and there spaces were made for plain chant notes of
music, parts of which appear in printing ink, while other parts seem to
have been retraced with a pen.
It is obviously an imitation not only of the copyist’s but of the
illuminator’s work upon a fine manuscript. It was intended that the
book should show the full capacity of the newly discovered art. Letters
and lines in red ink are to [p452] be found on every page, and there
are many very large and profusely ornamented initials in red and blue
inks. To the young reader who is accustomed to the severe and colorless
style of modern printing, the boldness and blackness of the stately
text types of this _Psalter_, the brightness of its rubrics, and the
graceful forms of its two-colored initials, are really bewildering.
They lead him to the belief that the workmanship of the book is of the
highest order. This has been the opinion of many eminent authors;[295]
the _Psalter of 1457_ has been called the perfection of printing.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of Part of the First Page of the Psalter of
1457.
[From Humphreys.]]
The initial letter B, the largest in the book, which is at the
beginning of the first Psalm, _Beatus vir_, has been often reproduced,
and commended as an example of skillful engraving, brilliant color
and faultless register. The design is beautiful, and admirably fitted
for relief printing, but it is not in the Gothic or German style: the
palm-leaf fillet-work is oriental, and was probably copied from some
Spanish manuscript, the illuminator of which had been taught in the
Moorish schools. In a few copies, the letter is red and the ornament is
blue; in other copies, the colors are reversed. In all copies the thin
white line which separates the red from the blue is always of uniform
thickness: there is no overlapping or meeting of the adjacent colors.
The register is without fault in all the copies. The quality of the ink
has been greatly praised: we are told [p454] that the black of the
text is very deep and glossy, that the red has a vividness of color,
and the blue a delicacy of tint, not to be found in the productions
of any modern printer. It has been asserted that this _Psalter_ is
more neatly printed than any modern book; that Schœffer, with rudely
made types, a rough press of wood, and with small experience in, or
scientific knowledge of, ink-making, succeeded in producing presswork
that has never been excelled on modern presses. These bold assertions
require careful examination.
[Illustration: Fac-simile, slightly reduced, of the Colophon of the
Psalter of 1457.
[From Falkenstein.]]
The few experts in printing who have examined copies of this book have
been so cowed by the rulings of eminent bibliographers that they have
not, apparently, dared to trust their own observation. Savage was the
first to refuse the dictum of authorities and tell us what he saw with
his own eyes. He distinctly says that the blackness of some notes of
music was made by retracing with a pen[296] the faded lines of a paler
printed color. Bernard[297] and Humphreys[298] plainly say that in the
fine copy of the _Mentz Psalter_ at the British Museum, some lines of
text have been written in by hand. Humphreys thinks that this filling
in of lines may have been done when the book was published. We have
here trusty evidence that the printing of the _Psalter_ was imperfect:
that in some places the ink was too weak,[299] and that the deeper
[p456] color was produced by painting the letters with a pen. The
brilliancy of the black ink has consequently been unwisely praised, for
it is a triumph not of printing, but of painting.
The same observation may be applied to the colored ink of the great
initials. Savage denies the statement of Papillon that the red ink is
of the most perfect beauty: he says that “it is a very heavy brick-dust
color.” Heineken says it is a dull red. A closer examination of the
book revealed the fact to Savage that the initials also had been
retraced or painted.
I could not avoid expressing my astonishment at seeing in some pages
two distinct red inks: one, the dull color before spoken of, and the
other, a red which, in printing, might fairly be called of the most
perfect beauty; and I had nearly left it with the belief that there
were two inks, red and blue, used in the printing of the book, which,
for brilliancy of color, would set at defiance all the efforts of
the present day to equal them. Some accidental circumstance caused
me to view the book in a different light, when I discovered that the
beautiful red was not printed but written in, so exactly like the
type that it could only be ascertained by the want of indentation in
the paper, which is invariably produced by pressure in the process of
printing. By the same means, I also ascertained that the fine delicate
blue was painted. Thus the colors produced by printing in the capital
letters are reduced to two, namely, dull blue and dull red.[300]
It is not difficult to explain this curious circumstance. The red and
blue printing inks first used by Schœffer were so dull and faded that
he would not suffer them to be compared with the brighter colors of
fair manuscripts. He was compelled to brighten the colors by painting.
Although sold as a printed book, the _Psalter_ was the joint work of
the printer and the illuminator, and the features which the modern
bibliographer most admires are those made by the illuminator.
The process employed by the printer of the _Psalter_ for securing an
exact register of the colors was just as irregular. It is an error to
assume that the two-colored initials were printed as similar work is
now printed, by two impressions. Bernard says that the red and the blue
blocks of the initials, [p457] each engraved on a separate piece of
wood, were made to fit each other, so that the red block should fit
accurately in the mortised blue block. In the process of printing,
each block was separately inked, but the red block was dropped in the
mortise of the blue block before impression was taken.[301] After these
painstaking preparations, exact register was inevitable.
Blades does not accept this explanation. He thinks that the engraving
for the red and the blue ink was done on one block, which was not
printed with ink, but was embossed in the paper as a guide to the
colorist. He says that his examination of the two-colored initial
letters of a Bible made by Sweynheim and Pannartz in 1467 proves that
they were not printed, but embossed, in the white paper; that the paper
mask on the frisket was left uncut over the engraving, so as to shield
the white paper from the ink, and to deepen the indentation of the
engraved lines; and that the illuminator made use of this indentation,
as he would of a pencil drawing, to guide his pen or brush when laying
on the colors. He further says[302] that a similar operation was
carelessly done in parts of the _Psalter of 1457_; that some of the
spiral lines, finials and ornaments were left uncolored, but that the
process was plainly exposed by the indentation of the engraved lines.
It is not necessary to accept Blades’ opinion that the coloring
was done entirely with pen or brush: the few uncolored lines in the
initials of the _Mentz Psalter_ may be regarded as blemishes occasioned
by an accidental overlapping of the mask on the frisket. Savage’s
statement that the blocks were printed with ink is too positive to be
disputed. Nor is it necessary to accept the hypothesis of Bernard that
the blocks were engraved in two pieces and mortised, that they might
be printed by one impression. We may rightfully suppose [p458] that
Schœffer tried to imitate the work of the illuminator by the imitation
of his method. To engrave the initial and the ornament around it on one
block, to paint the letter in one color and the ornament in another,
and to print both colors by one impression, seemed the surest way to do
the work. That this was the intention of the designer of the letters is
evident from the manner in which the colors are divided. Contrary to
the usage of the illuminators, who were fond of interweaving colors,
each color was kept apart in a mass, that it might be inked with
greater facility. And this inking was probably done with a brush. Blue
ink was painted on the letter, and red ink on the ornament, at a great
sacrifice of time, but with neatness and without any interference of
the colors.[303] It should not surprise us that exact register was
secured, but it was more a feat of painting than of printing.[304]
Setting aside the colors, the workmanship of the _Psalter_ is not
neater than that of the _Bible of 42 lines_. The right side of every
page is much more ragged[305] through bad spacing; typographical
errors[306] are more frequent; the lines are often bowed or bent in
the centre from careless locking up. The presswork is not good; the
pages are dark and light from uneven inking, and the types have a grimy
appearance, as if [p459] they had been inked with foul balls and
printed on over-wet vellum. The colophon or imprint attached to this
book says:
This book of Psalms, decorated with antique initials, and sufficiently
emphasized with rubricated letters, has been thus made by the masterly
invention of printing and also of type-making, without the writing of
a pen, and is consummated to the service of God, through the industry
of Johan Fust, citizen of Mentz, and Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, in
the year of our Lord 1457, on the eve of the Assumption [August 14].
This imprint is ingeniously worded. Fust and Schœffer do not say, in
plain words, that they were the inventors of printing; they invite
attention to the red ink and the two-colored initials which were here
used in printing, with fine effect. They speak of rubricated printing
and of the invention of printing as if they were inseparable. They
suppress the name of Gutenberg, and induce the reader to believe that
Fust and Schœffer were not only the first to print with letters in red
ink, but the first to discover and use the masterly invention. This
insinuated pretense had the effect which was, no doubt, intended. By
many readers of that century, Peter Schœffer was regarded as the man
who planned and printed the _Psalter_, the man who made the types,
not only of this book, but of the _Bible of 42 lines_. Made bold by
the silence of Gutenberg, Schœffer allowed, if he did not positively
authorize, the statement to be made by his friends, that he was the
true inventor of printing; that he took up the art where Gutenberg left
it incomplete, and perfected it.
Before this assertion can be examined, it will be proper to consider
the date of 1457 in the imprint of the _Psalter_. If Schœffer planned
and printed the book, he did all the work in the twenty-one months
following Gutenberg’s expulsion from the partnership. This is an
unreasonable proposition, for the book should have been in press or in
preparation as long as the _Bible of 42 lines_. It is quite probable
that the _Psalter_ was planned and left incomplete by Gutenberg. The
types, which are like those of Gutenberg’s _Bible_, are unlike any
types [p460] subsequently made by Schœffer. The great initials in
colors are of the same design as the initials of the _Donatuses_ shown
by Fischer, and by him attributed to Gutenberg. The careful manner in
which they were engraved indicates experience as well as skill on the
part of the engraver; but it is not possible that the engraver was
Schœffer, or any workmen attached to his office, for Schœffer never
after printed any engravings on wood of equal merit.[307] The sumptuous
style of the _Psalter_ is unlike that of any book afterward made by
Schœffer; it is in a style which he did not originate, and could not
sustain. He reprinted it in 1459, in 1490, and in 1502, but the later
editions were not printed so well as the first.[308] The inferiority of
the later workmanship is evidence that the master mind who planned the
work was not at the head of the printing office.
On the sixth day of October, 1459, Fust published the _Rationale
Durandi_, or the exposition, by Durandus, of the services of the
church. It is a folio of 160 leaves, 2 columns to the page, in types on
English body, 63 lines to the column. It has many rubricated letters
and lines, and ends with a colophon, in red ink, worded like the
_Psalter of 1457_, but with the addition of the words, “clerk of the
diocese of Mentz,” after the name of Peter Schœffer. The statement in
the colophon, that it was made without the writing of a pen, is not
entirely true. There are two kinds of copies: one has printed capitals
like those of the _Psalter_, the other has illuminated initials. To
provide suitable spaces for these written initials, which are of large
size, the types were overrun and re-arranged.
If Schœffer had been an able calligrapher, he would have [p461]
demonstrated his ability by the production of types of finer
proportions than those of Gutenberg. If he was an expert type-founder,
and the inventor of the type-mould, he should have proved his skill
by casting types of neater finish. The first types made by him or by
his order after his separation from Gutenberg are exhibited in the
_Rationale Durandi_, but they do not warrant the opinion that he was a
very skillful designer or an ingenious type-founder. The combination
of Gothic and Roman which he there exhibited is evidently an imitation
of the Round Gothic face used by Gutenberg in the _Letters of
Indulgence_ and the _Catholicon_. Schœffer’s types present no features
of superiority: they show mannerisms of engraving so like those of
Gutenberg’s types as to lead to the opinion that both were made by the
same punch-cutter.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Text Types of the Rationale Durandi.
[From Bernard.]]
In the following year (1460), Schœffer and Fust finished a stout
folio, which was printed in a Round Gothic face on the larger body of
Great-primer. This book, the _Constitutions_ (or Body of Divinity) _of
Pope Clement V, with the Commentaries of Bishop John Andrew_, has been
much admired by bibliographers for its composition. The fac-simile on
a following page shows the text of the pope nested in the commentaries
of the bishop—truly “a rivulet of text in a meadow of notes.” In
some pages the text occupies about one-third, in other pages about
one-sixth, of the space assigned to the print. [p462] The composition
of pages so unevenly balanced must have taxed the ingenuity of the
compositor, but he was materially aided by the licence permitting
frequent use of abbreviations.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Bible of 1462.
[From Bernard.]]
These types are cast in evener line than the types of the _Rationale_,
but the face is not of neater cut. The presswork is not good. The
colophon, which is like that of the _Psalter_, states that the red
letters have been printed by the masterly invention of type-making;
but the red letters are the ones interspersed in the text. The great
initials were not printed; the blank space left for them was filled up
by the illuminator. This book was even more popular than the _Psalter_;
it was reprinted four times, but always in the same form.
[Illustration: The Mark of Fust and Schœffer.]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of a part of a Page of the Constitutions of
Pope Clement V.
The paragraph marks were written in red ink.
[From Humphreys.]]
In 1462 Schœffer printed a new edition of the _Latin Bible_, in the
Great-primer types of the _Constitutions_, in folio form, two columns
to the page, and 48 lines to the column. It is the first Bible with
printed date. According to modern taste, Schœffer’s change from Pointed
Gothic to Round Gothic was not happy, for the new face is inferior in
design and execution. But the Round Gothic permitted the compression
of the book within fewer pages, and was a more economical letter for
the printer. The second volume has, in some copies, a colophon worded
like that of the [p464] _Psalter of 1457_, setting forth that “this
little book was made by the masterly invention of printing and of
type-making, without any writing of a pen;” in other copies, obviously
of the same edition, this clause does not appear. This is but one of
many variations in this book which can be satisfactorily explained only
by Madden’s theory of a double composition.
The war between Diether and Adolph for the possession of the electorate
of Mentz was the occasion of some curious proclamations which were
printed in the types of Schœffer.[309] Two editions, one in Latin, one
in German, of a _Bull of Pope Pius II against the Turks_, dated October
22, 1463, have also been attributed to Schœffer.
The capture and sack of Mentz brought great misfortune to Fust and
Schœffer. We are told that the house and materials of Fust were burned;
but it is plain that he saved his punches and matrices, for we see
that the old faces of type were used in all the later books of Fust
and Schœffer. The printed proclamations of Adolph show that Fust soon
refurnished his office, and began to print. With his fellow-citizens,
he suffered from the paralysis to industry inflicted by the war.
There was no encouragement for enterprise. There is no book bearing
the imprint of Fust and Schœffer between the years 1462 and 1464. The
unemployed workmen of Fust and [p465] Schœffer were obliged to leave
the city. In leaving it, they carried with them the knowledge of the
new art, which, in a few years, they established in all the larger
cities of Europe.
The _Bible of 1462_ found few purchasers in Mentz. The demand in the
city had already been supplied with the _Bibles of 36 lines_ and of
_42 lines_, and buyers from abroad shunned a city subject to siege
and to civil war. Leaving Schœffer to take care of the business of
the printing office, Fust took the unsold _Bibles_ to Paris, where he
believed they would find a more generous appreciation. For it seems
that, in 1458, the king of France had sent Nicholas Jenson to Mentz to
get a knowledge of the practice of typography, the fame of which had
then reached France, and it is supposed that Jenson gave to Fust the
information that there was a demand for printing in Paris. This is the
official record of the proposed mission.[310]
On the third day of October, 1458, the king [Charles VII], having
learned that Messire Guthemburg, chevalier, a resident of Mentz in
Germany, a man dexterous in engraving and in types and punches, had
perfected the invention of printing with types and punches, curious
concerning this mystery, the king ordered the chiefs of the mint to
nominate some persons of proper experience in engraving of a similar
nature, so that he could secretly send them to the said place, to
obtain information about the said form [type-mould] and invention,
there to hear, to consider, and to learn the art. This mandate of
the king was obeyed, and it was directed that Nicholas Jenson should
make the journey, by means of which the knowledge of the art and its
establishment should be achieved in this realm, and it should be
his (Jenson’s) duty to first give the art of printing to the said
realm.[311] [p466]
The description of printing here given is singularly exact. It is
not surprising that the existence of the new art was then known in
Paris, for the colophon to the _Psalter of 1457_ had announced the
masterly invention; but it is strange that this document specified its
characteristic features—the _formen_, or the matrices and type-mould,
the types, punches and engraving. We see that the secret was revealed;
that Frenchmen in 1458 had a correct idea of the vital principle
of printing, and that all they required was a knowledge of its
manipulations.
Eager to prevent the threatened rivalry of Jenson, Fust appeared in
Paris, in 1462, with copies of the _Bible_,[312] while Jenson was
ineffectually soliciting the new king to aid him. So far from being
persecuted in Paris, Fust was received with high consideration, not
only by the king, but by the leading men of the city. He was encouraged
to establish in Paris a store for the sale of his books, and to repeat
his visit.
In 1465, Schœffer printed the _Decretals of Boniface VIII_, a folio
of 141 leaves, each page containing a text in large types, surrounded
by notes in small types. Red letters and lines are introduced, but
there are no engravings, and the presswork is in no point better than
that of the _Bible of 1462_. The colophon exhibits an unscrupulous
appropriation of the [p467] words of the colophon of the _Catholicon
of 1460_;[313] but, unlike the printer of that book, Fust and Schœffer
here advertise themselves as the men most intimately connected with the
great invention. We can plainly see their strong desire to be regarded
as the first printers, but there is as yet no clear statement that
Schœffer was the real inventor of printing.
In the same year was printed by Fust and Schœffer an edition of _The
Offices of Cicero_, a small quarto of 88 leaves, in their smaller
size of Round Gothic types. To make the book of proper thickness,
and perhaps to improve the appearance of the types, which show
signs of wear, Schœffer put thick leads, about one-tenth of an inch
thick, between the lines. As it is the first book in which leads of
perceptible thickness were used, this real improvement in printing
may be attributed to Schœffer. This edition of _Cicero_ is also
distinguished as the first book in which Greek letters were printed;
but these letters were not types—they were engraved on wood in a rude
manner.[314] This edition of _Cicero_ has the following colophon:
This very celebrated work of Marcus Tullius, I, John Fust, a citizen
of Mentz, have happily completed, through the hands of Peter, my son,
not with writing ink, nor with pen, nor yet in brass,[315] but with a
certain art exceedingly beautiful. Dated 1465.[316]
The _Cicero_ was reprinted on February 4, 1466. Soon after its
publication, Fust made another Journey to Paris.[317] Before he
could perfect his arrangements for the sale of his books, Paris was
depopulated by the plague, and it is the common [p468] belief that
Fust was one of its victims. This is not certainly known, but he was
dead on the thirtieth day of October, 1466, the date of the first mass
instituted for him at the Church of Saint Victor at Paris, where his
body was buried.[318]
After Fust’s death, Peter Schœffer took his place at the head of the
printing house. It seems, however, that he had a partner, one Conrad
Fust, or Conrad Hanequis, who was, no doubt, the Henlif mentioned in
the record of the Church of Saint Victor.[319] A book belonging to the
Church of Saint Peter of Mentz contains the following record of their
application for the manuscript of a book to which they wished to refer:
On Tuesday evening, January 14, 1468, the dean and the canons of
the chapter being assembled in the court of Rhingrave, the discreet
man, Conrad Fust, citizen of Mentz, respectfully requested of their
reverences that they would be pleased to lend to him, and also to
Peter, the husband of his daughter, a book from the library of our
church, to be used as a copy, namely: the _Saint Thomas_ [of Aquinas],
entitled _Liber super quarto sententiarum_, and of which they wish to
make many copies. The canons, considering that this request was just
and pious, and that it would be productive of good, consented to the
request, on condition, however, that he should replace this book,
together with the _Decretals of Boniface_, and further, that he should
give proper security to the canons. It was so done.[320] [p469]
Soon after Gutenberg’s death, Schœffer put forth this artful claim for
recognition as one of the inventors of the new art:
[Illustration: Portrait of Peter Schœffer.
[From Dahl.]]
Moses, in the plan of the tabernacle, and Solomon, in the plan of the
temple, did nothing more than imagine a meritorious work. The merit of
constructing the temple was greater than Solomon’s thought. Hiram and
Beselehel, greater than Solomon, improved on the plans of Solomon and
Moses. He who is pleased to endow mighty men with knowledge has given
us two distinguished masters in the art of engraving, both bearing the
name of John, both living in the city of Mentz, and both illustrious
as the first printers of books. In company with these masters, Peter
hastened toward the same end.[321] The last to leave, he was the first
to arrive; for he excelled in the science of engraving, through the
grace of Him only who can give genius and inspiration. Hereafter every
nation may procure proper types of its own characters, for he excels
in the engraving of all kinds of types. It would be almost incredible
were I to specify the great sums which he pays to the wise men who
correct his editions. He has in his employ, the professor Francis, the
grammarian, whose methodical science is admired all over the world. I,
also, am attached to him, not by any greed of filthy lucre, but by my
love for the general good, and for the honor of my country. Oh that
they who set the types and they who read the proofs would free their
texts from errors! The lovers of literature would certainly reward
them with crowns of honor when with their books, they come to aid the
students in thousands of schools.[322] [p470]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Latin Grammar of 1468.
A bold-faced Round Gothic on English Body.
[From Bernard.]]
In this colophon, Schœffer claims superior skill as a letter-cutter.
This pretension must be tested by his works. His first types, on
English body, appeared in 1459, at least four years after Gutenberg’s
expulsion from the partnership; his next types, on Great-primer body,
appeared in 1462; his last types, a very bold-faced Round Gothic on
English body, were first shown in 1462, and this new face is but a font
of small letters fitted to the capitals of the English of 1459.[323]
These are the only types made by Schœffer. If we compare them with
the types of Gutenberg, it will be perceived that they are fewer in
number and of inferior design and execution. It is absurd for Schœffer
to claim even equal merit with Gutenberg either as letter-cutter or
type-founder. Schœffer’s real merit is to be found in his eminence as
a man of business. He was, no doubt, chosen as Gutenberg’s successor,
for his presumed ability as a manager and a sharp financier. This
presumption was warrantable. His subsequent management of the printing
office shows that he was a thorough man of business—a born trader. He
has not shown that he was a mechanic or an inventor. Like John Fust,
he practised printing, not because he loved it for its own sake, but
because he loved its excitement and its promised rewards. [p471]
Schœffer established agencies for the sale of his books in Lubec[324]
and Frankfort,[325] and probably in other cities. He sold not only his
own books, but those of other printers.[326] We have many evidences
that he was unwearied in the prosecution of his business, which seems
to have been attended with much risk of loss.[327] His prosperity was
at its highest point in 1476, in which year he printed four large
books. After 1480, his interest in the printing office began to
decline. Between 1490 and 1502, but six books were issued from his
office. It is worthy of note that his last book was the fourth edition
of the _Psalter_, the book with which he began his typographical career.
During his later years, Schœffer was made a judge. His official duties
prevented him from giving close attention to his printing office;
but printing was neglected by him because it had almost ceased to be
profitable. He had competitors, not only in Rome, Paris and Venice,
but in all the larger cities of Germany, and even in Mentz and
Strasburg—competitors who were more skillful as printers and more
shrewd as publishers. They had perceived that the art of printing would
be of little advantage to them, and of little service to the world, if
its practice was confined to the servile imitation of manuscript books,
or if it expected to derive a generous support exclusively from the
rich, or from men of taste and men of letters. The younger printers saw
that it was necessary that books [p472] should be made more cheaply,
and in more convenient forms. With this end in view, they introduced
the cheaper size of octavo, which was much handier than the unwieldy
folio or quarto. The rubricated letters and lines were supplanted by
initials and borders engraved on wood and printed with the types in
black ink. The fashion of surrounding a text with notes, and of making
notes and text in measures of different width and length on every page,
was abandoned: the text was put at the top and the notes at the bottom.
Signatures, catch-words, paging-figures, blank spaces between chapters,
and the division of matter in paragraphs, were introduced. But the
greatest innovation was in the letters themselves. When Nicholas Jenson
introduced Roman types, and proved the superior legibility of light and
simple lines, the popularity of the sombre Gothic in Southern Europe
came to an end. The new fashions were adopted by many printers in
Germany, but they were not approved by Schœffer, who resisted them till
his death. In his judgment, the only model for a printed book was the
Gothic manuscript copy, and he copied it as closely as he could, with
all its imperfections.[328]
This curt review of the works and workmanship of Peter Schœffer should
be enough to show that his reputation as the father of letter-founders,
and the inventor of matrices and the type-mould, is entirely
undeserved. His types show that he had no skill as a letter-cutter
or mechanic. It is not possible that a man who has shown such feeble
evidences of mechanical ability could have been the first inventor of
the matrices and the type-mould. While Gutenberg and Fust were living,
Schœffer never made the claim that he was the inventor, or even a
co-inventor, of printing. But when they were buried, he claimed that
he was superior to both, and that he was really the first to enter the
sanctuary of the art. In 1468, he [p473] falsely said that although
Gutenberg was the first inventor, he was the man who perfected the
art. It seems that he must have told his friends many things about
his pretended services which he was unwilling to print. In 1503,
John Schœffer said in his first book that he was a descendant of the
inventor of the almost divine art of printing. In 1509, he says in
another book that his grandfather was the first inventor of printing.
In 1515,[329] he printed this extraordinary statement:
The printing of this chronicle was completed in the year of our Lord
1515, in the vigil of the Virgin Margaret, in the noble and famous
city of Mentz, where the art of printing was first developed, by
John Schœffer, descendant of the honest man, John Fust, citizen of
Mentz, and inventor of the before-mentioned art. It was in the year
1450, in the 13th indiction, under the reign of the very illustrious
Roman Emperor Frederic III, the very reverend father in Christ, Lord
Theodoric, grand cup-bearer of Erpach, prince elector, occupying the
archiepiscopal chair in Mentz, that this John Fust began to devise,
and finally invented, solely through his own genius, the art of
printing. Aided by divine favor, in the year 1452, he had so far
improved and developed his art, that he was able to print; in which
work, however, he was indebted for many improvements to the ingenuity
of Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, his workman and his adopted son, to
whom, in acknowledgment of his many services and his skill, he gave
the hand of his daughter, Christina Fust. These two men, John Fust and
Peter Schœffer, carefully retained to their own advantage the secrets
of the art; and for this purpose, they demanded from their workmen and
servants an oath that they should not in any way divulge the process.
Notwithstanding this precaution, in the year 1462 the knowledge of the
art was carried by their workmen to distant countries, and printing
thereby secured a wide development. [p474]
The thorough dishonesty of this statement is abundantly proved by its
suppression of the name and services of Gutenberg. It is also evident
that the writer could not, or dared not, point out the improvements
which he alleges were made by Schœffer. This deficiency was soon
supplied by a more credulous writer. About 1514, Trithemius,[330]
one of the most learned men of that century, wrote the following
description of the invention, which he says he had from Peter Schœffer
himself:
It was at this period (1450) in Mentz, a city of Germany on the Rhine,
and not in Italy, as some people have falsely asserted, that this
admirable, and till then unheard-of, art of printing books by the
aid of types was planned and invented by John Gutenberg, a citizen
of Mentz. When he had spent all his property in his search after
this art, and was almost overwhelmed with difficulties, unable to
find relief from any quarter, and meditating the abandonment of his
project, Gutenberg was enabled by the counsel and by the money of John
Fust, also a citizen of Mentz, to finish the work which he had begun.
They first printed, with engravings of letters on blocks of wood,
arranged in proper order in the manner of ordinary manuscripts,
the vocabulary then called the _Catholicon_; but with the letters
on these blocks they were not able to print anything else, for the
letters were not movable, but fixed and unalterable upon the blocks,
as has been stated. To this invention succeeded another much more
ingenious. They discovered a method of founding the forms of all
the letters of the Latin alphabet, which they called matrices, from
which [matrices] they again founded types, either in tin or in brass,
strong enough for any pressure, which [types?] before this had been
cut by hand. In right earnest, I was told, nearly thirty years ago,
by Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, citizen of Mentz, the son-in-law of
the first inventor, that this art of printing had encountered, in its
first essays, great difficulties. For, when they were printing the
_Bible_, they were obliged to expend more than 4,000 florins before
they had printed three sections [sixty pages]. But the Peter Schœffer
already mentioned, at that time a workman, but afterward son-in-law,
as has been said, of the first inventor, John Fust, a man skillful
and ingenious, devised a more easy method of founding types, and thus
gave the art its present perfection. And the three men kept secret
among themselves, for a while, this method of printing, up to the time
when their workmen were deprived of the work, without which they were
unable to practise their trade, by whom it was divulged, first in
Strasburg, and afterward in other cities. [p475]
There are many inaccuracies in this statement. Gutenberg and Fust are
represented as foolishly squandering money in vain efforts to invent
xylography, a method of printing then in common use in many cities of
Germany, Italy and Holland. The _Catholicon_, which is mentioned as
one of the productions of block-printing, was printed from metal types
in 1460. In the beginning, Gutenberg is acknowledged as the inventor
of printing, yet, a few lines further, we are told that Fust was the
first inventor. And it seems that Gutenberg could do nothing with his
invention until helped by the advice, as well as the money, of John
Fust. After the improved invention,[331] Gutenberg and Fust fell in
hopeless difficulties, having spent four thousand florins before they
had completed sixty pages of the _Bible_. From these difficulties they
were extricated by Peter Schœffer, “son-in-law of the first inventor,”
who invented a more easy method of making types, and who gave the art
its present perfection, and without whose aid the earlier inventions
would have been of little value. The intention of the writer is plain:
Gutenberg, Fust and Schœffer may be regarded as co-inventors, but
Schœffer did the most effective service.
It is a curious fact that this paper, which has been so often
quoted as evidence in favor of Schœffer’s invention of matrices,
[p476] positively says that matrices had already been used by Fust
and Gutenberg. Before Schœffer’s name is mentioned, it is said that
“they” [Fust and Gutenberg] discovered a method of making matrices.
Trithemius says that Schœffer’s contribution to the invention was
“a more easy method of founding types, by which he gave the art its
present perfection.” He does not explain this easy method. We do not
know whether his claimed improvement was in the mould or matrix, in
its construction or in its manipulation; but it was not origination
or invention, it was improvement only. The passage which seems to say
that the first types were cut by hand does not require much comment.
Trithemius may have misunderstood, and incorrectly reported, what he
heard, or Schœffer may have misrepresented the facts. It is evident
that Trithemius is in error; for cut types, cut either as to body or as
to face, never were, never could have been used. The most trustworthy
evidences tell us that the earliest types were cast in a mould.[332]
If the word _formen_, which is found in the record of the trial of
Strasburg, be construed as the same word must be construed in the
colophon to the _Catholicon of 1460_, in the acknowledgment of Dr.
Humery in 1468, and in the order of the King of France in 1458, then we
have the most complete evidence that the matrices and the accompanying
type-mould were used by Gutenberg long before he knew Schœffer.
It was not necessary that Trithemius should have told us that he
derived this curious information from Peter Schœffer. In these
perversions of truth we may see the vanity of the man who had already
boasted that he was the first to enter the sanctuary of the art. The
unreasonableness of his claim [p477] to the invention of matrices, or
to the perfection of printing, may be inferred from the fact that,
although he was a judge, a man of distinction, and a successful
publisher for more than forty years, during the period when the value
of printing was fully appreciated, he was never noticed in any way
as a great benefactor. Neither the emperor nor elector gave him any
distinction as the founder of a great art; no one put up a stone to
his memory, honoring him as an inventor; no printer of that century
regarded him as aught more than a thrifty publisher. His reputation
has been created entirely by his own boasts and those of his family;
and it is a most damaging circumstance that these boasts were not made
until Gutenberg and Fust were dead, and that the statement written by
Trithemius was not published until all the witnesses to the invention
were dead, and there could be no contradiction.
There are many facts which show the falsity of Schœffer’s claim.
Setting aside the evidences in favor of the probable priority of the
types of the _Bible of 36 lines_, the record of the lawsuit between
Gutenberg and Fust virtually tells us that the types of the _Bible of
42 lines_ had been made, perhaps in 1452, but not later than 1453. That
these types were founded in matrices, were of neater cut, more exact
as to body, and better founded than any afterward made by Schœffer, is
apparent at a glance. They prove that the true method of type-making
had already been found. If Schœffer invented the matrices from which
these types were made, he should have perfected this invention in 1451.
But Schœffer was a copyist at Paris in 1449, and it is not certain that
he was with Gutenberg before 1453. Here we encounter an impossibility.
It cannot be supposed that a young collegian, fresh from books, without
experience in mechanics, could invent, off-hand, a complicated method
of type-making, upon which Gutenberg had been working for many years.
There is still another version of this invention of matrices by
Schœffer, the version of Jo. Frid. Faustus, which has been often
paraded as conclusive testimony in Schœffer’s favor. [p478]
John Fust, of Mentz, was the first to perceive the losses suffered
by scholars through the scarcity of books. He labored diligently to
invent some new method of multiplying them, so that they could be
furnished to readers at reduced and reasonable prices. High Heaven,
kindly favoring his sincere prayers and his most laudable intention,
revealed to this excellent man the most approved form and mainstay of
his invention. In the beginning, he cut the letters of the alphabet
for children, on a block of wood, in high relief. With much loss of
time and labor, he waited for the invention of a more suitable ink;
for writing ink blotted and made the printed letters unintelligible.
He experimented with soot from a candle, with which he was able to
print, but the impression would not adhere to the paper. At last he
invented an ink which was black, adhesive and permanent. Then he began
to print on a press and to publish little books for children, which
everybody bought, for the price was trivial, and buyers praised the
printer. Fust was stimulated to attempt larger work, and he thereupon
printed the _Donatus_ in exactly the same manner. But the engraved
pages of this book, cut out of the solid block, displayed many
imperfect letters, and many copies were worthless. It then occurred
to the inventor, at the right time, that he might print books with
separate types, and that it was not at all necessary that the letters
should always be cut on solid blocks. Whereupon he cut up the wood
blocks, and saving all the types that had escaped injury, he made new
combinations with them. This is the true origin of the composition
of movable types. This new method of making types called for a great
expenditure of time and labor; it delayed the work, hindered the
development of the new art, and made many miserable difficulties for
the inventor.
Fust had many workmen, who assisted him in making ink and types, and
in other work. Among them was Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, who, when
he perceived the difficulties and delays of his master, was seized
with an ardent desire to accomplish the success of the new art.
Through the special inspiration of God, he discovered the secret by
which types of the matrix, as they are called, could be cut, and types
could be founded from them, which, for this purpose, could be composed
in frequent combinations, and not be singly cut as they had been
before. Schœffer secretly cut matrices of the alphabet, and showed
types cast therefrom to his master, John Fust, who was so greatly
pleased with them, and rejoiced so greatly, that he immediately
promised to him his only daughter, and soon after he gave her to
him in marriage. But even with this kind of type, great difficulty
was experienced. The metal was soft and did not withstand pressure,
until they invented an alloy which gave it proper strength. [p479]
As they had happily succeeded in this undertaking, Fust and Schœffer
bound their workmen by oath to conceal the process with the greatest
secrecy; but they showed to friends, whenever it pleased them, the
first experimental types of wood, which they tied up with a string and
preserved. My uncle, Doctor John Fust, testified that he had seen,
with the manuscripts which were bequeathed by the inventor, these
experimental types of wood, and that he had held in his hands the
first part of his edition of the _Donatus_.[333]
The unknown author further says that John Gutenberg was one of
the friends to whom Fust and Schœffer showed the wood types; that
Gutenberg, professing to admire their ingenuity, took a great interest
in their enterprise, and lent Fust and Schœffer money, thereby
entangling them in an agreement, from which they could not extricate
themselves until Gutenberg had acquired a right to use the invention,
by which use he wrongfully enjoys the honor of first inventor. Here
we may stop. It would be a waste of time to expose, one by one, the
falsehoods of a statement so flatly contradicted by many unimpeachable
evidences. It is very clear that the writer had no new facts to tell
us about the invention. He has told us not how it was made, but how he
wished it had been made that it might redound to the honor of the Fusts.
What later writers have said about the value of Schœffer’s services
need not be considered, for they also have produced no new facts: they
have based their opinions entirely on the incorrect information of
Faustus, Trithemius and Schœffer. We may pass, without further delay,
to the examination of the claims made for other alleged inventors of
printing.
[p480]
XXIV
Alleged Inventors of Printing.
Discovery of the Book of Four Stories, with Imprint of Albert Pfister
. . . Its Types the same as those of the Bible of 36 lines . . .
Pfister regarded as an Inventor of Printing . . . Description of
Book of Four Stories . . . Its Colophon . . . Book of Fables . . .
Colophon and Fac-simile . . . Other Books by Pfister . . . Pfister
not a Type-founder . . . Probably an Engraver on Wood . . . Could not
have Printed the Bible of 36 lines . . . Pfister probably got his
Knowledge of Printing from Gutenberg . . . Paul of Prague’s Notice of
Printing at Bamberg . . . Sebastian Pfister . . . Pamphilo Castaldi
. . . Absurdity of the Legend . . . John Mentel and his Epitaph . . .
Gebwiler’s Statement . . . Fac-simile of the Arms of the Typothetæ
. . . Specklin’s Statement . . . Plain Falsifications of History . . .
Known Facts about Mentel and his partner Henry Eggestein.
* * * * *
It is, perhaps, possible to show of all inventions that somewhere
somebody must have been very near to it. To assert of any invention
whatever, that it could or should have been invented long ago, is
nothing but chicane: we are to prove, incontrovertibly, that it was
really invented, or else be silent.
_Lessing._
* * * * *
Schelhorn’s opinion that the _Bible of 36 lines_ was the Bible
described by Zell—the book printed by Gutenberg in 1450—did not meet
with the approval of those who had copies of the _Bible of 42 lines_.
Men who had paid very large prices for the copies of an edition
supposed to be the first, were loth to have it degraded to the inferior
place of a second edition. The testimony of Zell was unceremoniously
set aside; the written date of 1460 in one copy of the _Bible of 36
lines_ was regarded as indicating the date of printing, and the book
was declared the work of Gutenberg between 1455 and 1460. Another
hypothesis was soon presented. In 1792, Steiner, a clergyman at
Augsburg, announced the discovery of the _Book of Four Stories_ with
the imprint of Albert [p481] Pfister, Bamberg, 1462. Soon after, Camus
read before the National Institute at Paris, a critical description
of the book, in which he proved the identity of its types with those
of the _Bible of 36 lines_. Thereupon, incautious readers rushed to
the hasty inference that, as Pfister had made use of the types of the
_Bible of 36 lines_, the Bible must have been printed by Pfister.
Critics of authority did not hesitate to say that Albert Pfister, a
printer unknown for three centuries, and of whom there is no tradition,
might have been an inventor of printing, the rival, and perhaps the
predecessor and teacher, of John Gutenberg. As we know Pfister only
through his books, it will be proper to examine their workmanship
before this hypothesis can be considered. They are not numerous:
sixteen books and pamphlets have been attributed to him, but his claim
to eight has been disproved.[334]
The _Book of Four Stories_, a thin folio of 60 leaves—a version made
for childish readers of the biblical descriptions of Joseph, Daniel,
Esther and Judith—may be offered as the most characteristic specimen
of Pfister’s style. The types of this book are those of the _Bible
of 36 lines_, but they are much worn. If they were not the identical
characters, they were cast in the mould and matrices that had been used
for the types of the _Bible_, for the types of both books agree in
face and in body. The _Book of Four Stories_ has fifty-five engravings
on wood, six of which are repeated, each occupying the space of about
eleven lines, or 2-3/4 inches, of the text. The engravings are coarse;
they have no artistic merit, and are in every way inferior to those
of the _Bible of the Poor_ or the _Speculum Salutis_; they abound
in puerile absurdities, and seem to be the work of a maker of cards
or images. The text of the book is in German rhyme, but the lines
follow each other, without break, as in a text of prose. A capital
[p482] letter indicates the beginning of each line of poetry, and a
lozenge-shaped period denotes its ending. The presswork is decidedly
inferior: the deeply indented paper shows that the printer could not
regulate the pressure on the types; the muddiness of the letters comes
from the use of a thin ink, and the faulty register from a shackly
press. The colophon or subscription of this book, a translation of
which is submitted, specifies the date, the place of printing and the
printer:
Every man, in his heart, desires to be learned and well read. Without
books and without teacher, this cannot be. If it were otherwise, all
of us would know Latin. These reflections have engaged me for a long
time. To good purpose have I sought out and gathered the four stories
of Joseph, Daniel, Judith, and also of Esther. God granted protection
to these four personages, as He always does to the good. This little
book, which is intended to teach us how to amend our lives, was
completed in Bamberg, in which city Albert Pfister printed it, in the
year which is numbered one thousand four hundred and sixty-two,—which
is the truth,—soon after the day of Saint Walpurgis, who is able to
obtain for us grace abundant, peace, and everlasting life. May God
give them to all of us. Amen.
The _Book of Fables_, a folio of 88 leaves, printed with the types of
the _Bible of 36 lines_, is another work which fairly exhibits the
style of Pfister. It contains eighty-five fables, each illustrated with
a coarse engraving on wood, in which monkeys represent men. The text is
in rhyme, but the lines follow each other without break. The colophon
says:
At Bamberg this little book was finished, after the Nativity of Jesus
Christ, as one counts, one thousand four hundred years and sixty and
one,—such is the truth,—on the day of Saint Valentine. God save us
from His sufferings.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of an Illustration in the Book of Fables by
Albert Pfister.
[From Heineken.]]
Another book attributed to Pfister is known as _Belial_, or the
_Consolation of the Sinner_. It is a folio of 95 leaves, which exhibits
on the last leaf the words _Albrecht Pfister su Bamberg_. Pfister
also printed two editions of the _Bible of the Poor_, one in Latin
and one in German, each containing eighteen engravings. His treatment
of the old block-book is that of a mechanic and not of an artist: the
designing, [p483] engraving and printing are of the lowest order.
He also printed the _Complaint against Death_, and the _Judgment of
Man after Death_. All were printed with the types of the _Bible of 36
lines_, and they were, apparently, his only types. [p484]
That Pfister was not a type-founder seems clearly enough established
through the fact that he did all his typographic work with only one
size and face of type. In all his books, the letters of the Latin
alphabet appear old and worn, but the _w_, _k_, and _z_, characters of
the German alphabet, are new and sharp. The types had evidently been
used before for books in Latin, but not by Pfister, for the _Bible of
the Poor_ seems to have been the only book he printed in that language.
The _Book of Fables_ bearing the date of 1461 seems the earliest of
Pfister’s books, but it was published without any explanation stating
that it was made by a new art. It may therefore be presumed that he
began to print with types before 1461. The profusion of wood-cuts in
his books is an indication that he was an engraver on wood—probably a
maker of playing cards, images, and block-books, who had profited by an
early opportunity to perceive the advantages of types. As a seller and
maker of chap-books, he would prefer the types because they explained
his pictures more cheaply than the slower process of engraving letter
by letter; but his persistent use of types which other printers would
have condemned as worn out, shows that he did not make and could not
renew them. It is not probable that a man who seems to have rated his
wretched wood-cuts as the most meritorious feature of his books could
have invented types. It is possible, however, that an image printer
of low aims and slender ability could have perceived the economical
advantages of types, and may have purchased a discarded font for the
sole purpose of printing explanations to his engravings. And this seems
the only conjecture that will explain Pfister’s ownership of the types
of the _Bible of 36 lines_.
The conjecture that Pfister printed the _Bible of 36 lines_ will not
bear a critical examination. It is not enough to show that our first
positive knowledge of the types and the copies of this book begins
with Pfister and Bamberg. It still remains to be proved that Pfister
made the types and printed the copies. The proof is wanting and the
probabilities are [p485] strongly adverse. The _Bible of 36 lines_ is
unlike any book of Pfister’s in size, character, and workmanship. It
is not possible that the man who began his career as a printer with
an admirable edition of the Latin Bible in three volumes folio, could
have ended it with the publication of shabby little books in German,
intended for children. A declension like this is without a parallel in
typographical history.
It has been supposed that Pfister got his types and his imperfect
knowledge of typography from Gutenberg after the dissolution of
the partnership between Fust and Gutenberg, but Pfister could have
gotten them before. There is a blank in Gutenberg’s history between
the years 1442 and 1448, about which we know nothing. That he was
then at work on his problem; that he must have communicated more or
less of his secrets to the many unknown workmen and associates who
succeeded Dritzehen, Saspach, Heilmann and Dünne; that he may have been
induced to try his fortunes at Bamberg before he went to Mentz; that
Albert Pfister may have been one of his workmen who followed him to
Mentz and acquired some skill in the art,—these are conjectures that
deserve consideration. But they are conjectures only: we have no exact
knowledge concerning the introduction of typography in Bamberg. It is
plain, however, that the appearance at Bamberg, in 1461,—a year before
the sack of Mentz, the date usually fixed on as that of the dispersion
of the printers, and the general divulgement of the secret,—of a
book printed in the worn types of the _Bible of 36 lines_, and the
subsequent discovery near this city of many copies of this book, which
could not have been printed by Pfister, are indications that Gutenberg
must have had business relations with Bamberg which are of importance
in the history of printing.
The only documentary evidence which seems to favor the hypothesis that
Pfister might have printed the _Bible of 36 lines_ is the following
curious notice of early printing, which was written about 1463, by Paul
of Prague, for a contemplated but unfinished encyclopedia of arts and
sciences: [p486]
The _libripagus_[335] is an artisan who skillfully engraves on plates
of copper, iron, hard wood, or other substances, images, writing, or
anything he fancies, and afterward quickly prints them on paper, or
on a wall, or on a smooth board. He cuts whatever he pleases, and is
a man who can apply his art to pictures. When I was at Bamberg, a man
engraved the whole Bible upon plates, and in four weeks skillfully
preserved this engraving of the whole Bible on thin parchment.
Pfister’s name is not mentioned, but he was, probably, the _libripagus_
here noticed. The story is not credible. The whole _Bible_ was not
printed in four weeks, neither at Bamberg nor elsewhere; nor was it
ever engraved upon plates. The only book of Pfister’s to which this
statement could be applied, is his edition of the _Bible of the Poor_.
We do not know when Pfister died; his last dated work is of the year
1462. Sebastian Pfister, who is supposed to be Albert’s son, was at the
head of a printing office at Bamberg in the year 1470, and then printed
a little book which seems to have been his first and last venture in
printing.
Pamphilo Castaldi of Feltre, Italy, to whom a statue was erected
in 1868, has also received the undeserved honor of an inventor of
printing. This commemoration of the man by the people of a great nation
seems to require in this book at least a statement of the legend on
which his claims are based. This is the legend, abridged from a long
panegyric on Castaldi’s services by one of his countrymen:
Pamphilo Castaldi was born in Feltre, of noble parents, at the end
of the fourteenth century. He was highly educated and intelligent.
Although a poet and a lawyer of good reputation, his love for
literature induced him to open a school for polite learning, which
soon became famous, and attracted students from foreign countries.
None of his pupils acquired greater fame than John Fust, who is called
by the historians of Feltre, Fausto Comesburgo. This Faust resided
with [p487] Castaldi in Feltre as early as 1454. In the year 1442,
Castaldi had seen a proof of Gutenberg’s attempts at the invention
of typography. Gutenberg at that time (1442) was supported by the
money of Faust and the skill of Schœffer, his partners. After ten
years of experiment, Gutenberg had done nothing more than print from
blocks of wood and with metallic characters. He had not yet invented
movable types, for the _Bible of 1456_ should be classified with the
block-books.
Castaldi, more ingenious or more fortunate, had already discovered
movable types before the arrival of Faust in Feltre. It is well known
that, a century before the publication of the _Mentz Psalter of 1457_,
initial letters and capital letters formed of glass were manufactured
at Murano, and used in Italy. These glass letters were, probably, the
invention of Pietro de Natali, bishop of Equilo. Castaldi had noticed
that these letters were of advantage to the scribes, who printed them
in their manuscript books. He at once saw that it would be possible
to print entire books, instead of occasional letters, with movable
types. The facility with which this discovery had been made caused
him to undervalue its importance. He gave the idea to Faust, who,
returning to his partners in 1456, or a little before, enabled them
to appropriate the invention of Castaldi. They greedily adopted this
invention, and, in 1457, they produced the _Psalter_, the first book
printed with movable characters of wood.[336]
The only portion of this absurd story which has any claim to respect is
that about the early use in Italy by copyists of engraved or moulded
initial letters. That they were, or could have been, made by the
glass-blowers of Murano, and that Castaldi may have amused himself with
experiments in stamping consecutive letters or lines, is possible. All
else is pure fiction. It does not appear that Castaldi printed anything
of value: we have no relics of his experiments in the form of a book,
or even of a leaf, a line, or a letter. Nor did his dreams or teachings
about the possible value of types ever incite any of his Italian pupils
to make and use types.
To those who think that the merit of the invention of printing is in
the conception of the idea of movable types, this legend about Castaldi
is instructive. It reveals to us a man who is represented as having
a very clear idea of the [p488] importance of types, who did nothing
with his great discovery. His discovery, if it can be so called, was
useless. He cannot be rated as an inventor of printing, for he printed
nothing.
John Mentel, of Strasburg, who died in December, 1478, and was buried
in the great cathedral of that city, has there a tablet to his memory,
which contains the following inscription:
Here I rest: I, John Mentel, who, by the grace of God, was the first
to invent, in Strasburg, the characters of typography, and to develop
this art of printing, which should be perpetuated to the end of the
world, to such a degree of perfection that a man can now write as much
in a day as another could have done in a year. It is but just that
thanks should be rendered to God, and without vanity, to me myself;
but as this homage could not otherwise be rendered in a proper manner,
God has ordained, as the reward for my invention, that the stones of
this cathedral should serve for my mausoleum.[337]
The claim that Mentel was the inventor of typography was first made
in 1520 by John Schott,[338] son of Martin Schott, who had married
Mentel’s daughter and inherited his business. [p489] In the year 1521,
Jerome Gebwiler, misled by the assertions of Schott, undertook to
controvert the pretensions of Fust and Schœffer as the first printers.
He writes that printing was practised in Strasburg by John Mentel,
who had obtained the new art of chalcography, or of making books with
tin pens (types) about the year 1447; that Mentel, and Eggestein,
his partner, made an agreement that they should keep secret the new
art; that John Schott, whom he praises, showed him a manuscript book,
without date, written by Mentel, in which were drawings of typographic
instruments, and observations on the manufacture of printing ink.
It was by similar methods that John Schott induced James Spiegel to
declare, in a book printed in 1531, that John Mentel invented printing
in Strasburg in the year 1444.[339] John Schott is also the authority
for the following version of the invention which was found in an old
manuscript chronicle attributed to Daniel Specklin.
[Illustration: The Arms of the Typothetæ.
[From Hansard.]]
In the year 1440, the admirable art of printing was discovered in
Strasburg by John Mentel. His son-in-law, Peter Schoiffer, and Martin
Flach at once made use of the discovery; but a servant of Mentel,
called John Gensfleisch, after stealing the secret, fled to Mentz,
where he soon established the new art, through the help of Gutenberg,
a very rich man. Mentel was so affected with grief by this perfidy
that it caused his death. In honor of the art, he was buried in the
monastery or cathedral church, and a representation of his press was
cut on his tombstone. God swiftly punished the servant Gensfleisch, by
striking him with blindness for the remnant of his life. I have seen
the first press (of Mentel) and the types cut on wood, which were of
syllables and words. They were pierced through the sides, that they
could be conjoined by a wire and kept in line. It is to be regretted
that these types, the first of the kind, should have been lost.[340]
[p490]
These impudent falsifications of history would have been soon
forgotten if they had not been renewed in the seventeenth century, by
one James Mentel, a physician of Paris, the supposed descendant of John
Mentel, who published two little books on the history of printing,
in which he enlarged and distorted the versions of Gebwiler, Spiegel
and Specklin. To support his claim, he did not scruple to alter the
text and pervert the meaning of the authors from whom he pretended to
quote.[341] It was a useless work, for no impartial critic can accept
the statements of Mentel or of his predecessors. For these statements,
like those in behalf of Coster, Castaldi and Schœffer, were made, for
the first time, long after the invention had been perfected, by men who
had the desire and the temptation to misrepresent the facts. All of
them are tainted with the same calumny—the accusation that Gutenberg
stole his knowledge of the invention—and all of them are contradicted
by public records of undoubted authority.
Neither Mentel’s books nor the records of Strasburg give any warrant
to the hypothesis that Mentel was an inventor of printing. His name
appears for the first time on the tax list of the city of Strasburg, in
the year 1447. He is called a _goltschriber_, and is enrolled with the
goldsmiths. In another record of the city, for the same year, his name
appears in a list of artists and painters, but he is not described as
a printer. The earliest notice of him as a printer was made by Philip
de Lignamine of Rome, who said, in 1474, that John Mentel of Strasburg,
_since 1458_, had there a printing office, in which he printed three
hundred sheets a day, “after the manner of Fust and Gutenberg.” By this
statement we may suppose that Mentel practised printing soon after
the dissolution of the partnership between Fust and Gutenberg. It
was, no doubt, from Mentz that he got a knowledge of typography, for
it cannot be shown that he was taught the art by any of Gutenberg’s
early associates in Strasburg, nor is there any reason to believe
that he was an independent inventor. We [p491] have no evidence that
he experimented with types, or that he printed anything in Strasburg
between 1439 and 1457. It is not even established that Mentel was the
first practical printer in Strasburg, for there is evidence that he
began to print there in partnership with one Henry Eggestein, who was
a man of superior ability and of greater distinction, a master of arts
and philosophy.[342]
Mentel did not affix his name to any of his books before 1473, but he
had then printed many large theological works.[343] Schœpflin says
that he soon made himself rich by his industry and his sagacity in the
selection of salable books. He was a shrewd publisher, the first who
issued a descriptive catalogue, and employed agents for the sale of his
works.
[p492]
XXV
The Spread of Printing.
First Printers of Germany . . . Mentel at Strasburg . . . Zell at
Cologne . . . Keffer and Koburger at Nuremberg . . . Fac-simile of
a part of Koburger’s Map . . . Zainer at Augsburg . . . Fac-simile
of Zainer’s Birth of Eve . . . John of Westphalia and Martens at
Louvain . . . Mansion at Bruges . . . Gerard Leeu at Antwerp . . .
First Printers of Italy . . . Sweinheym and Pannartz at Rome . . . De
Spira at Venice . . . Jenson’s Types . . . Venice famous for Printing
. . . Cennini at Florence . . . The Ripoli Press . . . Zarot at Milan
. . . Appearance of Publishers . . . First Printers of France . . .
Gering, Crantz and Friburger at Paris . . . The Printers of Elegant
Books . . . First Printers in Spain and Portugal . . . In England
. . . Caxton at Westminster . . . Printing did not find a general
Welcome . . . Made Popular by the Cheapness of Books . . . Injudicious
Selection of Books for Publication . . . Demand for Books in the
Vernacular . . . First Check on the Liberty of the Press.
* * * * *
About this time, the crafte of Enpryntyng was fyrste founde in
magounce in Almayne, which crafte is multiplyed through the world in
many places, and bookes ben had grete chepe and in grete nombre by
cause of the same crafte.
_Caxton, 1482._
* * * * *
IN CENTRAL AND NORTHERN EUROPE.
When two rival printing offices had been established at Mentz it was
no longer possible to keep secret the processes. Every printer who
handled the types and every goldsmith who helped to make the tools
must have felt a weakening of the obligation of secrecy. The sack of
Mentz was a greater misfortune, for it dissolved all obligations and
sent the printers to other cities to found new offices. Not one of
these printers has told us when and how he began to print on his own
account. All we know about the introduction of printing in many of the
large cities has been gathered from the dates of books and the chance
allusions of early chroniclers. It is from these imperfect evidences
[p493] that the following tables of the spread of printing have been
made up. They are based on the chronological arrangement of Santander’s
_Dictionary_, but the names and dates have been collated with those of
Cotton’s _Typographical Gazetteer_, and other works of authority, and
some alterations have been made.
Place. Printer. Date.
Mentz John Gutenberg 1450
Bamberg Albert Pfister —
Strasburg Mentel and Eggestein 1458
Cologne Ulric Zell 1462
Augsburg Gunther Zainer 1468
Nuremberg Henry Keffer 1469
Munster in Argau Helyas Helye 1470
Spire Peter Drach 1471
Ulm John Zainer 1473
Buda (Hungary) Andrew Hess 1473
Mersburg Lucas Brandis 1473
Laugingen 1473
Esslingen Conrad Fyner 1473
Marienthal Bros. of Life-in-Com 1474
Lubec Lucas Brandis 1475
Burgdorf — 1475
Blaubeuren Conrad Mancz 1475
Pilsen — 1475
Rostock Bros. of Life-in-Com. 1476
Geneva Ad. Steynschauer 1478
Prague — 1478
Eichstadt M. and G. Reyser 1478
Wurtzburg Dold, Ryser, _et al._ 1479
Leipsic Marcus Brand 1481
Aurach Conrad Fyner 1481
Erfurt Wider de Hornbach 1482
Memmingen Albert de Duderstadt. 1482
Passau Stahl, Mayer, _et al._ 1482
Reutlingen John Ottmar 1482
Vienna John Winterburg 1482
Magdeburg Rauenstein _et al._ 1483
Stockholm John Snell 1483
Winterberg John Alacraw 1484
Heidelberg Fred. Misch 1485
Ratisbon John Sensenschmidt 1485
Brinn Stahl & Preinlein 1486
Munster John Limburg 1486
Sleswick Stephen Arndes 1486
Frisia — 1488
Kuttenberg Von Tischniowa 1489
Ingolstadt John Kachelofen 1490
Hamburg J. and T. Borchard 1491
Wadstein — 1491
Czernigov Tzernoevic 1492
Zinna — 1492
Fribourg Kilianus Piscator 1493
Luneburg John Luce 1493
Copenhagen Gothof. de Ghemen 1493
Oppenheim — 1494
Freisingen John Schæffler 1495
Offenburg — 1496
Tubingen John Ottmar 1498
Cracow John Haller 1500
Munich John Schobser 1500
Olmutz De Baumgarten 1500
Pfortzheim Thomas Anselmus 1500
This is but a brief list for the vast and populous country north of
Italy and east of France and the Netherlands.[344] Not less remarkable
is the fact that some cities now deservedly famous for their printing
were among the last to acquire a knowledge of the art, and those that
gave it feeble support.
The master printers at Mentz before 1500, not previously named, were:
Erhardus Reuwich, whose first book was dated 1486; Frederic Misch,
who began after 1490; Jacob Meydenbach (a witness at the trial of
1455), between 1491 and 1496; and Peter Friedburg, between 1494 and
1497. There may [p494] have been others, whose names are lost, but
the printers are few; they cannot be compared, either in number or in
influence, with those of many smaller cities during the same period.
Long before Schœffer died,[345] Mentz had ceased to be a great school
and centre of printing.
STRASBURG. The statement of Lignamine, that Mentel printed at
Strasburg after 1458, has been corroborated by the recent discovery
in the Freiburg library of a Latin _Bible_ in two volumes folio,
which is known to have been printed by Mentel, and which contains the
subscriptions of the illuminator and the written dates, in one volume
of 1460, in the other of 1461.[346] As this book should have been in
press at least two years, it may be regarded as evidence that printing
was practised here as early as in Bamberg. Strasburg gave greater
encouragement to printers than Mentz, for sixteen master printers were
working there before 1500.
COLOGNE. The first printer at Cologne was Ulric Zell. He was an
industrious printer for more than forty years, but he never printed
a book in German, nor did he adopt any of the improvements of the
printers of Italy. He adhered rigidly to the severe style of his
master, Schœffer, printing all his books from three sizes of a rude
face of Round Gothic types. He was not a skillful nor even a correct
printer, but he was a shrewd publisher, and accumulated a large
property. Madden supposes that he went to Cologne in 1462, and [p495]
was engaged by the Brotherhood of the Life-in-Common at Weidenbach,
near that city, to assist them with his new art of printing in their
pious task of making books.[347] His name appears for the first time in
a book dated 1466, which date may be accepted as indicative of the time
when he left the monastery and began to print on his own account in the
city.
At the close of the fifteenth century, twenty-two printing offices had
been established at Cologne. Among them was that of Arnold Ter Hoorne,
who, despite his occasional bad presswork, deserves special notice as
one of the first printers who made use of Arabic figures.
[Illustration: Fac-simile, reduced, of part of Koburger’s Map of Europe.
[Photographed from Mr. Bruce’s copy of the Nuremberg Chronicle.]]
NUREMBERG. Henry Keffer, who appeared as a witness for Gutenberg in
the suit at law in 1455, is supposed to have established himself as
a printer at Nuremberg about 1469. His name appears, for the first
time, in the imprint of a book dated 1473, from which it seems that he
was hired by John Sensenschmidt, a wealthy man of that city,[348] who
aspired to be a publisher. In 1473, Anthony Koburger began to print
at Nuremberg. In a few years he acquired great reputation as printer
and publisher: he had twenty-four presses at Nuremberg and offices
at Basle and at Lyons. Lichtenberger says that he printed twelve
editions of the _Bible_ in Latin and one in German. That he merited
his honors is implied by the testimony of Jodocus Badius, his rival
at Paris, who frankly said he was an honest merchant and the prince
of printers. The success of Koburger did not materially interfere
with the [p496] prosperity of his rivals, for there were seventeen
master type-printers and many block-printers at Nuremberg before 1500.
Koburger’s most curious book is the _Nuremberg Chronicle_ of 1493, a
large and thick folio, edited or compiled by Hartmann Schedel, as a
summary of the history, geography and wonders of the world. It contains
more than two thousand [p497] impressions[349] of wood-cuts, “made by
Wolgemuth and Pleydenwurff, mathematical men, and cunning as designers.”
[Illustration: The Birth of Eve, from Zainer’s Edition of the Speculum
Salutis.
[From Heineken.]]
AUGSBURG. The practice of typography was brought to Augsburg in 1468
by Gunther Zainer of Reutlingen, who is supposed to have been taught
at Strasburg. He was the first printer in Germany who printed a book
in Roman characters. [p498] He and his rivals, Bamler, Schüssler
and Sorg,[350] illustrated their books so freely with wood-cuts as
to provoke the remonstrance of the fraternity of block-printers of
Augsburg.[351] This opposition may have caused Zainer’s retirement from
business in 1475, but it did not check the business of the others.[352]
There were twenty master printers at Augsburg before 1500.
IN THE NETHERLANDS.
UTRECHT. It is probable that the unknown printer of the four notable
editions of the _Speculum_ was at Utrecht before the arrival of
Ketelaer and De Leempt in 1473.[353]
LOUVAIN. John of Westphalia came to Louvain in 1472, with some
matrices of Round Gothic and Roman types which he had acquired in
Venice, and began to fit up a printing office. In 1473, he published
his first book. During the twenty-two years he was in business, he
printed 120 works. Many were editions of the classics, and all were
selected with reference to the requirements of the University, from
which he received the honorary title of Master of Printing. John
Veldener, who began to print at Louvain in 1473, received a similar
title. He boasted that he was expert in all branches of the graphic
arts, but his skill was that of a mechanic. As [p499] a publisher, he
could not compete with John of Westphalia.[354] Thierry Martens, of
Alost, was employed by John of Westphalia, probably as editor, soon
after he arrived at Louvain. After receiving suitable instruction,
Martens was allowed to print some little books at Alost in 1473. He
began to print at Alost in his own name in 1487. Necessity or the
love of change compelled him to move his printing office many times
between Louvain and Antwerp. In 1529, he forsook printing and retired
to Alost, where he died in 1534, at the age of eighty-eight years.
In his business life of almost sixty years he printed, beside many
other works, about 150 books in Greek, Hebrew and Latin. He had a
critical knowledge of six languages, and his ability as an editor was
acknowledged by many scholars who were his friends and correspondents.
Erasmus wrote his epitaph, and the town of Alost has put up a statue to
commemorate his worth.
BRUGES. The name of Colard Mansion, a calligrapher of high merit and
afterward the first typographer at Bruges, is found in the records
of a corporation of book-makers, between the years 1454 and 1473. As
his name does not re-appear before 1482,[355] it is supposed that
he abandoned the guild and learned printing. In 1476, he printed
a little book in a new face of type in the French style. He was a
skillful but not a prosperous printer, for he was obliged to eke out
his scant income as a printer by occasional jobs of illumination. Soon
after 1484, he left Bruges. It is not known where he went or when he
died. John Brito, who succeeded Mansion, was for many years the only
typographic printer at Bruges. This neglect of printing in a city
renowned for the elegance of its manuscripts and the skill of its
calligraphers shows that the professional book-makers regarded printing
as an inartistic and mechanical method of making books. [p500]
GOUDA and ANTWERP. Gerard Leeu, the most industrious[356] printer of
his time, began to print at Gouda in 1477, but he went to Antwerp in
1484, where he continued to print until his death in 1493. Imitating
Verard of Paris, he gave his later years to the translation and
printing of romances and popular books. In 1493, he began to print
Caxton’s _Chronicle of England_, in English and obviously for sale in
England, but he died before the work was finished.[357]
IN ITALY.
This is the order in which printing was established in Italy:
Place. Printer. Date.
Subiaco Sweinheym & Pannartz 1465
Rome Sweinheym & Pannartz 1467
Venice John de Spira 1469
Milan Anthony Zarot 1470
Foligno John Nummeister 1470
Trevi John Reynard 1470
Verona John of Verona 1470
Treviso Gerard de Lisa 1471
Bologna Balthazar Azzoguidi 1471
Ferrara Andrew Belfort 1471
Naples Sixtus Riessinger 1471
Pavia Antonio de Carcano 1471
Florence Bernard Cennini 1471
Fivizano Jacobus and others 1472
Padua Balt. de Valdezochio 1472
Mantua Pietro Adam de Michael 1472
Mondovi Antonio Mathiae, _et al._ 1472
Jesi Frederic Veronensis 1472
Cremona Paravisinus, _et al._ 1472
Parma Andrew Portiglia 1473
Brescia Thomas Ferrandus 1473
Messina Henry Alding 1473
Vicenza John de Reno 1473
Como De Orcho, _et al._ 1474
Turin Fabri and John de Petro 1474
Genoa Matthew Moravus, _et al._ 1474
Modena John Vurster 1475
Trent Hermann Schindeleyp 1476
Palermo Andrew de Wormatia 1477
Ascoli William de Linis 1477
Lucca Bart. de Civitali 1477
Casal William de Canepa 1481
Cotton, in his _Typographical Gazetteer_, specifies thirty-seven other
places in Italy in which printing was done before 1500. [p501]
SUBIACO and ROME. Conrad Sweinheym and Arnold Pannartz, two printers
from Germany, set up a press in the monastery of Subiaco, near Rome,
and there produced in 1465 the books first printed from types in Italy.
To please the tastes of their Roman readers they made a new font of
Roman types. It was not a successful effort, for the traces of Gothic
mannerisms are noticeable in almost every letter. Not meeting with
the encouragement they desired, the two printers removed to Rome in
1467. They began to print on a grand scale, making new fonts of Roman,
Greek and Round Gothic types, enlisting the services of Bishop John
Andrew as reader and corrector, and undertaking the publication of many
large classical works. They did not prosper. In the year 1472, they
petitioned the pope for relief, setting forth that they had printed
11,475 copies of twenty-eight works, a very large portion of which had
not been sold, and that they were in great distress. In 1473, Sweinheym
withdrew from the partnership, and began to engrave on copper maps
for an edition of _Ptolemy’s Geography_. He died before the book was
published, in 1478. Pannartz died in 1476.
Ulrich Hahn, a printer of Bavaria, went to Rome in 1465, and began to
print there in 1467. His first book was in Round Gothic types, but his
Italian readers induced him to make for his second book a rude form of
Roman types. He employed Campanus, an eminent scholar, as reader and
corrector, and associated himself with Simon Nicholas de Lucca, who
acted as editor and publisher of his books. At this time there were in
Rome many printing offices, and the number increased, notwithstanding
the complaints of Sweinheym and Pannartz, and also of Philip de
Lignamine, that more books were printed than could be sold. Before the
year 1500, there were or had been thirty-seven master printers at Rome.
VENICE. John de Spira, so called from Spire, the city in which he
was born, was the first typographer at Venice. He began in 1469, by
the publication of the _Letters of Cicero_ in types of Roman form.
Soon after, he published an edition in [p502] folio of the _National
History of Pliny_, which is regarded as one of the finest specimens
of the printing of the fifteenth century. Proud of his fine work, but
fearing competition, De Spira solicited and obtained from the senate,
September 18th, 1469, exclusive rights as a printer in Venice for five
years. The privileges seem to have been forfeited by his death in
1470; but his printing office was managed with ability by his brother
Vindelin, who succeeded to the business.
Nicholas Jenson, the “man skilled in engraving,” who had been sent to
Mentz in 1458, and who, according to Madden, had thoroughly qualified
himself in the monastery of Weidenbach, seems to have been the first
of several printers who hastened to Venice to profit by the forfeiture
of De Spira’s privilege. In 1471, he published his first book,[358]
the _Decor Puellarum_, in neat light-faced Roman types on Great-primer
body. His experience at the mint of Tours as an engraver gave him
a decided advantage over all his rivals. Roman types had been made
before by Sweinheym, De Spira and Hahn, but never before had punches
been so scientifically engraved, nor types so truly aligned. It is not
surprising that the efforts of his predecessors should pass for naught,
and that Jenson has ever since been regarded as the introducer of Roman
types. But Jenson discovered, as Hahn and De Spira had done, that, to
secure buyers in Germany, it was necessary to print books in Gothic
characters. With this object in view, he cut several fonts of Round
Gothic, one on Bourgeois and one on Brevier body, the smallest sizes of
types made in the fifteenth century.
As a printer, Jenson is entitled to high praise. None of his
competitors showed so much taste and skill in the details of
book-making. It is noticeable in every feature—in the tint and texture
of his paper, in the glossy blackness of his ink, in the clearness and
solidity of his impressions, in the [p503] uniformity of register and
of color on every page. Jenson’s merits were recognized by Pope Sixtus
IV, who, in addition to other marks of favor, bestowed upon him the
title of count palatine. He died in 1481. His printing office passed
into the hands of an association of which Andrew Torresani of Asola was
the manager. In time, Aldus Manutius, a partner in this association,
married a daughter of Torresani, and got control of the office, the
reputation of which he increased by his scholarship, by his numerous
editions of the classics, and by his introduction of Italic types, but
not by superior skill as a typographer. As a type-founder, printer and
ink-maker, Jenson had no rival and left no proper successor.
At the close of the fifteenth century, Venice took the lead of all
cities, not only in the number of its printing offices, but in the
beauty of its types and printing. Printers in other countries knew
that they would secure for their types the highest commendation by
announcing them as the true Venetian characters. Santander specifies
201 master printers who had been in business at Venice before 1500.
Bernard estimates the number of books then and there printed at two
million volumes.
FLORENCE. Bernard Cennini, an eminent goldsmith of Florence, began to
print with types at that city in the year 1471. He said that he and his
sons Peter and Dominic made the tools and types and did all the work
without instruction, but the exact manner in which Cennini describes
the cutting of punches and the founding of types makes this statement
doubtful. Cennini never earned any reputation as a typographer, for
it does not appear that he printed any book after 1471. Santander
names twenty-two master printers at Florence before 1500. The most
noticeable of the number is Dominic de Pistoia, an ecclesiastic who
founded a printing office in 1474, which is known in history as the
Ripoli Press. Dominic was the abbot of a monastery, but he proved
an active and intelligent publisher. He deserves notice chiefly for
his care in keeping his accounts, which give us our most [p504]
trustworthy information concerning the materials and usages of the
early printers.[359]
MILAN. Anthony Zarot began to print at Milan in 1470 or 1471, having
been hired by Philip de Lavagna, who seems to have been a capitalist
and a publisher. In 1472, Zarot persuaded four citizens of Milan to
unite with him in a new association for the printing and publishing
of books. The articles of agreement are curious, and deserve
preservation.[360] The association seems to have been remarkably
prosperous, for in 1472 it had seven presses at work. In 1473, the
[p505] publisher Philip de Lavagna and his new partner Montanus made
an agreement with Christopher Valdarfer, another printer at Milan, for
the exclusive use of two presses.[361]
There was no part of Europe in which so great an enthusiasm was shown
for printing as in Italy.[362] The only open opposition which the
new art encountered was made in 1472, by the copyists of Genoa, who
complained that the typographers were greedy, and that they deprived
the copyists of their livelihood by undertaking to print little books.
IN FRANCE.
Place. Printer. Date.
Paris Ulrich Gering, _et al_ 1469
Lyons Buyer and Le Roy 1476
Angers De Turre and Morelli 1477
Chablis Pierre le Rouge 1478
Poitiers J. Boyer and G. Bouchet 1479
Toulouse — 1479
Caen Ferrandus and Quijone 1480
Vienne Pierre Schenck 1481
Promentour Loys Guerbin 1482
Troyes Guillaume le Rouge 1483
Chambery Antonius Neyret 1484
Bréand-Loudéhac R. Foucquet 1484
Rennes Pierre Belleesculée 1484
Abbeville Dupré and Gerard 1486
Rouen Guillaume le Talleur 1487
Besançon — 1487
Hagenau Henry Grau 1489
Dol Peter Metlinger 1490
Grenoble — 1490
Orleans Matthieu Vivian 1490
Dijon Peter Metlinger 1491
Angoulême — 1491
Cluny Michael Wenssler 1493
Nantes Etienne Larcher 1493
Limoges John Berton 1495
Provins G. Tavernier 1496
Tours Matthieu Lateron 1496
Avignon Nicol Lepe 1497
Treguier — 1499
Guienne — 1500
Perpignan J. Rosembach 1500
PARIS. About the close of the year 1469, Ulrich Gering, Michael
Friburger and Martin Crantz began to print at Paris. To please the
classic tastes of the doctors of the university who had invited them,
their first book appeared in types of Roman form. They were not
skillful printers, for Chevillier says that letters half formed and
half printed are noticeable [p506] in their earlier works, but they
were industrious publishers. Like Jenson, they found it expedient to
cut and cast types of the Round Gothic fashion, for the Roman character
was most admired by scholars. In 1477, Crantz and Friburger abandoned
printing, but Gering continued to print until his death in 1510. He
willed a large property to the university.
In 1473, Peter Keyser and John Stol, after a three years’ service
with Gering, set up a rival printing office, the result of which was
a reduction in the price of books.[363] This competition did not
prevent other printers from founding offices in Paris, but it did
compel some to improve the quality of their work, and to seek a new
class of readers. Antoine Verard in 1480, and Phillipe Pigouchet
in 1484, founded a new school of printing, when they undertook to
make prayer-books and romances in imitation of the style of the
miniaturists.[364] Thielmann Kerver, who commenced to print in 1497,
was almost as famous as a printer of ornamental books. The growing
taste for fine books did not prevent the publication of solid
literature. In 1495, Jodocus Badius, a printer of great learning,
who had been proof-reader for his father-in-law, Trechsel of Lyons,
established an office at Paris, and began to print for men of
education. In the following year came the famous Henry Stephens, first
of a long line of printers eminent for their scholarship and diligence
as editors and publishers of classical and critical text books. Before
the year 1500, there were, or had been, sixty-nine master printers in
Paris.
LYONS. Lyons must have offered unusual inducements to master
printers, for there were forty printing offices in that city before
the year 1500. The printers of Lyons were busy [p507] publishers, and
their competitors in Italy complained with reason of their piratical
editions. They made liberal use of engravings on wood and copper-plate
illustrations. They were also the first printers to sell cheap books in
showy bindings.
IN SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.
Place. Printer. Date.
Barcelona N. Spindeler 1473 or 1478
Valencia Cordova and Palomar 1474
Saragossa Matthew Flandrus 1475
Seville A. Martinez, _et al._ 1476
Segorbe — 1479
Tolosa Henry Mayer 1480
Burgos De Basilea 1485
Salamanca — 1485
Soria Eliezar ben Alanta 1485
Xerica — 1485
Toledo John Vasquez 1486
Murcia Juan de Roca 1487
Tarragona John Rosembach 1488
Lerida — 1488
San Cucufute des Valles — 1489
Lisbon R. Samuel Zorba 1489
Pampeluna — 1489
Zamora — 1490
Leiria Abraham Dortas 1492
Grenada Meynard Ungut 1496
Madrid — 1499
Montserrat John Luchner 1499
IN GREAT BRITAIN.
The first book printed in English, the _Recuyell of the Historyes of
Troye_, a stout folio of 351 leaves, does not contain the date of
printing, nor the name and place of the printer, but it appears from
the introduction that it was translated from the French by William
Caxton between the years 1469 and 1471. When and where it was printed
is a vexed question.[365]
The monogram which was exhibited by Caxton in his later books—‹f›s
W. 74. C. c‹/f›—is interpreted by Madden as _William Caxton, 1474,
Sancta Colonia_. It is an indication that a notable event in his life
was represented by the year 1474 and the city of Cologne, and it seems
to authorize the conjecture that at this time and place he published
his first book. In 1475, Caxton printed, in the office of Mansion at
[p508] Bruges, _The Game and Playe of the Chesse_. In 1477, he was “in
the abbey of Westminster, by London,” and then and there published
_The Dictes and Sayings of Philosophers_. He was then a very old man,
but he did good service as a printer before his death in 1491. Blades
estimates the entire product of his press at 18,000 pages, nearly all
of which were of folio size. Compared with his great rivals on the
Continent, Caxton cannot be accorded high rank as editor or publisher,
but there was no printer of his time who labored more diligently.
In 1480, Lettou and Machlinia began to print at London. Wynken de
Worde, Richard Pynson, Julian Notary and William Faques were also
printers of that city before 1500.
In 1480, Theodoric Rood, of Cologne, printed at Oxford. In the same
year, an unnamed printer, known to bibliographers as _The School-master
of St. Albans_, was at Saint Albans.
The first printing press in Scotland was put up at Edinburgh in 1507;
the first in Ireland at Dublin in 1551.
* * * * *
Printing was first practised in the New World in the city of Mexico, by
Juan Cromberger, or his agent Pablos, between 1536 and 1540.[366] The
second printing press in North America was put up by Stephen Daye at
Cambridge, in 1638, and the first work printed on it, the _Freeman’s
Oath_, was dated 1639.
[Illustration: Statue of Gutenberg at Strasburg.
[From St. Nicholas.]]
The German origin of printing is fairly shown by the names,
unquestionably German, of nearly all the men who introduced printing
in Southern Europe. The workmanship of these men leads to the same
conclusion, for the expert will see in their books evidences of the use
of the punch, [p510] mould, press, and frisket. Whether done well or
ill, printing was done with the tools and by the methods of Gutenberg.
Printing did not meet with general welcome, but the neglect or
opposition it encountered did not come largely from the copyists.
The business of the copyist of cheap books was injured, but the
only complaint that I have met came from the copyists of Genoa. The
calligrapher was indifferent to the growth of the new art, for his
skill was never in higher request nor more handsomely rewarded than
at the close of the fifteenth century. So far from injuring the
business of the calligrapher, printing really improved it, for it
largely increased the production of books intended for illumination.
The neglect of literary men to note the _Bible of 42 lines_ and the
_Catholicon_ of Gutenberg, the delayed establishment of a printing
office at Paris, the indifference shown to printing in the great
book-making town of Bruges, and the insufficient patronage bestowed
on the early printers at Rome, are evidences that there was, in the
beginning, a prejudice against printed books much more powerful than
that of the copyists. The bibliophiles of the time looked on printed
books as the productions of an inartistic trade. The admiration which
has been recently invoked for the _Bible of 42 lines_ as a book of
nearly perfect workmanship was not expressed by any early book-buyer.
It does not appear that any book-lover of that period regarded this
work, or the art by which it was made, as of high merit. The error
seems pardonable, for the printed book was not as attractive as the
manuscript, and no one foresaw the future of printing. Gutenberg may
have had a clearer idea than any man living of its capabilities, but
it is not probable that he foresaw the wheels within wheels which
his types would put in motion, or heard the clash and roar of the
innumerable presses for which there should be no night and scarcely a
Sunday of rest, or dreamed that books, schools, libraries, newspapers
and readers were yet to appear in a world then undiscovered, in numbers
so great that they could not be counted. [p511]
The activity of the early printers is remarkable. The task of
preserving the literature of the world was fairly done at a very
early date. There were not many books that promised to be salable and
profitable, and some of them were scarce, and copies were obtained
with difficulty—but nearly every valuable book was found and printed.
Naudé, the librarian of Cardinal Mazarin, said that, before the year
1474, all the good books, however bulky, had been printed two or three
times, to say nothing of many worthless works which should have been
burned. The same work was often printed in the same year, by four or
five rival printers in as many different cities. The catalogue of Hain
very minutely describes 16,290 editions, which, at the low estimate of
300 copies for each edition, represents a total production of 4,887,000
books.[367]
The attention of the literary world was first arrested, not by the
possibilities of future usefulness in printing, but by the growing
cheapness of books. The early printers offered their books at less
than the market prices of manuscripts, but in a few years they were
obliged to reduce the prices still lower. The market was soon glutted,
and the prices fell rapidly and irretrievably. Chevillier says that,
at the close of the century, the price of many books had been reduced
by four-fifths. In the preface to a book printed at Rome in 1470, John
Andrew, the bishop of Aleria, addressing Pope Pius II, says:
“It reflects no small glory on the reign of your holiness that a
tolerably correct copy of such a work as formerly cost more than a
hundred crowns may now be purchased for twenty; those that were worth
twenty, for four at most. It is a great thing, holy father, to say,
that in your time the most estimable authors are attainable at a price
little exceeding that of blank parchment or paper.” [p512]
The failure of many early printers to make their business profitable
was largely caused by their injudicious selection for publication of
bulky theological writings which cost a great deal of money to print,
and were salable only to a small class. It was unwisely supposed that
printing would receive its great support from the ecclesiastics. With
this object in view, the first printers printed almost exclusively in
Latin, and generally in the expensive shape of folio, the books which
could be read only by the learned, and bought only by the wealthy.[368]
The printers’ hopes of profit were rarely ever realized. Only a few
like Zell, Mentel and Schœffer became successful merchants of books on
dogmatic theology. It was soon discovered that printing could not be
supported by ecclesiastics. The printers who had been induced to set up
presses in monasteries did not long remain there, nor did the printing
and publishing offices which they left prosper for many years. Books
of devotion were never in greater request, but books published by the
church did not fully meet the popular want.
Nearly all the books printed by Gutenberg and Schœffer were in the
Latin language. Whether they overlooked the fact that there was an
actual need for books in German, or whether they were restrained in
an attempt to print in German, cannot be decided. Other publishers
saw the need, and disregarded the restraint, if there was any, to the
great inquietude of ecclesiastics, who seem to have had forewarning
of the mischief that would be made by types. On the fourth [p513]
day of January, 1486, Berthold, the archbishop of Mentz, issued a
mandate in which he forbade all persons from printing, publishing,
buying or selling books translated from the Greek or Latin, or any
other language, before the written translation had been approved by a
committee which should be appointed for the purpose from the faculty
of the University of Mentz. The penalties were excommunication,
confiscation of the books, and a fine of 100 florins of gold.[369]
In Italy the revival of classical literature opened a new field for
the publisher, but the demand for Latin authors was limited. In this
country, and in others, eagerness for books in the native language
was manifested; for books that plain people could read; for books
that represented the life and thoughts of the living and not of the
dead. The world was getting ready for new teachers and for a new
literature—for Luther and Bacon, for Galileo and Shakespeare.
[p514]
XXVI
The Tools and Usages of the Early Printers.
Punches made by Goldsmiths . . . Styles of Types imitated from
Manuscripts . . . Popularity of the Gothic . . . Moulded Matrices
. . . Types made without any System . . . From an Adjustable Mould
. . . Appearance of Early Types . . . Large Fonts made . . .
Importance of Mould . . . Rudeness of Early Composition . . . Method
of Dictation . . . Faults of Compositors . . . Slowness of Improvement
. . . Construction of the Hand-Press, with illustration . . . Inking
Balls, with illustration . . . Slowness of Pressmen . . . Printing in
Colors . . . Printing Ink . . . Ingredients used by the Ripoli Press
. . . Moxon’s Complaints about Ink . . . Neglect of Engraving on
Wood . . . Peculiarities of Paper . . . The Degradation of Engraving
. . . Proof-reading at Weidenbach . . . Faults of First Editions
. . . Superiority of Printed as compared with Manuscript Books . . .
Permanence of Gutenberg’s Method.
* * * * *
All invention is progressive. . . . When a new machine is produced, we
do not say, Why, it only consists of a number of wheels and cylinders,
therefore, surely there is nothing new in it! All the parts may be
old, and yet the combination be quite new. To analyse an invention
into its several parts, would be equivalent to finding that a poem
was only composed of the letters of the alphabet, or the words in a
dictionary.
_Dircks._
* * * * *
The first processes in the practice of typography—the cutting of
punches and making of moulds—demanded a degree of skill in the handling
of tools and of experience in the working of metal rarely found in
any man who undertook to learn the art of printing. They were never
regarded as proper branches of the printer’s trade, but were, from the
beginning, set aside as kinds of work which could be properly done
by the goldsmith only. Jenson, Cennini, Sweinheym and Veldener seem
to have been the only printers of the fifteenth century who had the
preliminary education that would warrant them in attempting to cut
punches with their own hands. [p515]
Not every goldsmith[370] could do this work with neatness, and for this
reason, as well as for the sake of economy, many beginners bought their
matrices from the printers who owned punches. In some cases the types
were bought outright, but matrices which gave the means of renewing
a worn-out font must have been preferred. That there was a trade in
matrices before type-foundries for the trade were established is shown
by the appearance of the same face of type in many offices. The Round
Gothic types cut by Jenson were frequently used by printers in France
and Germany. Certain faces of types used by Caxton and by Van der
Goes, by Leeu and Bellaert, by Machlinia and Veldener, are identically
the same, and must have been cast from matrices struck from the same
punches.
The styles of the early types were not invented by printer or
punch-cutter. The Pointed Gothic letters of Gutenberg’s _Bibles_ and
of the _Psalter of 1457_ are like those of the choice ecclesiastical
manuscripts of that period. The Round Gothic letters of the
_Catholicon_ and of the _Letters of Indulgence_ are of the form then
used by German copyists in popular books. In Italy, the first types
were cut in imitation of the popular form of Roman letters, or in the
southern fashion of Round Gothic; in the Netherlands, they present the
peculiarities of Flemish writing; in France and Burgundy, they were,
for the most part, in the favorite French style of _Bâtarde ancienne_.
In no instance did the printer invent a new style: he did [p516] no
more than direct his punch-cutter to imitate, as closely as he could,
the letters of a meritorious manuscript. In this matter, as well as in
the arrangement of types, he followed the fashion set by an approved
copyist or calligrapher. The peculiar characters[371] of different
languages were produced as they were required, somewhat slowly and of
unequal merit, by different printers. The limitations of typography
were not fully perceived, and many unsuccessful attempts were made
to produce types and sectional wood-cuts that could be used in the
construction of maps, ornaments and pictures.[372]
The Gothic character was more popular than the Roman, but there
were mechanical reasons why many printers preferred it. It was not
so quickly cut, but its broad face, free from hair-lines, was more
readily founded. It could be inked with facility and printed with
more evenness of color, and it would not show wear as soon as the
Roman. Early printers, who had no Roman, were loud in their praises of
the Gothic.[373] It was preferred by Verard, Pigouchet, Kerver, and
nearly all French and Flemish printers. It did not entirely go out of
fashion in Southern Europe nor in France until the close [p517] of the
sixteenth century. It might have been supplanted by Roman characters in
Germany, if there had not been at this time a strong prejudice against
Roman customs and fashions of all kinds. Attempts at change were
frequently made, but they were always unsuccessful.
The steel bought for the type-foundry of the Ripoli Press was probably
intended for punches. The use of this metal in other type-foundries
may be inferred from the sharpness, when new, of many fonts of early
types. That the moulds were of brass is indicated by the allusions of
early writers and printers to types made in brass. The matrices were
of copper, but it is not probable that they were struck in cold metal,
for it required great force and still greater discretion to strike the
punch truly, and the risk of breaking it had to be hazarded. For the
matrices of the large types of Gutenberg’s _Bibles_ and the _Psalter of
1457_, copper softened by heat[374] should have been, and probably was,
provided.
When the secrets of type-making had been divulged, the printers who
found difficulties in making or buying matrices tried to evade its
necessary conditions and cheapen its processes. The types of wood
with holes for wire, described by Specklin and others, must have been
punches of wood which had been made in the belief that it would be
cheaper to cast words than to cast and compose single letters. The
matrices of lead noticed by Enschedé were probably made by striking
the punch of wood in half-melted metal, after the process described
by Didot. The punch of wood, burned by contact with hot metal, was
repaired, altered and renewed; the matrix of lead,[375] clogged by the
adhesion of metal, became defaced, and was soon worn out. Every change
in punch or matrix produced a corresponding change in the cast type.
[p518]
The types of the fifteenth century were made without system. The
dimensions of each body and the peculiarities of each face were
determined chiefly by the manuscript copy which had been selected as
the model. No printer had any idea of the advantages to be derived
from a series of regularly graduated sizes, nor of the beauty of a
series of uniform faces, nor of the great evils they would impose on
themselves and their successors by the use of irregular bodies.[376] A
classification by scale of the types of any printer of this period will
show that there are often wide gaps between the larger, and confusing
proximities between the smaller, bodies.[377]
As the size of every body is determined by the mould in which it is
cast, it would seem that there must have been a separate mould for
every distinct body.[378] But this inference is encumbered with fatal
objections. The type-mould of hard metal is, and always has been, a
very expensive tool, and it cannot be supposed that any early printer
made two or four moulds for one body when one mould would have served.
It [p519] is much more probable that he tried to make one mould
serve for two or more bodies. The inventor of the mould may have
thought that it should be constructed with adjustments, so that it
should cast different bodies as well as different widths of types. The
practicability of a mould of this description is properly demonstrated
by the old-fashioned adjustable mould for irregular bodies, or by the
mould used for casting leads, which can be so enlarged or diminished
that it will cast many bodies or thicknesses. If we suppose that this
mould was used by Gutenberg for casting the two bodies of the _Letters
of Indulgence_, and by the unknown printer of the Netherlands for
his four bodies of English, and that it was, of necessity, newly set
or adjusted each time a new font was cast, we shall at once have a
precise explanation of irregularities which are unaccountable under
any other hypothesis. Casting types without the system, standards
and gauges which modern type-founders use, it is not surprising that
the first printers made types with differences of body. It was the
impracticability of casting in this primitive mould, at different
times, types of uniform body, that compelled later type-founders to
discard it, and to use instead a mould for each body.
[Illustration: A Type of the Fifteenth Century.[379]
[From Madden.]]
The casting of the types, which was always done in the printing office,
was then adjudged a proper part of a printer’s trade. The earlier
chroniclers said the first types were made of lead and tin. The Cost
Book of the Ripoli Press specifies these metals, and obscurely mentions
another which seems to have been one of the constituents of type-metal.
If this conjecture can be accepted, types were probably made in the
fifteenth century, as they are now, of lead, tin and antimony.[380]
Not one of the millions of types founded during the fifteenth [p520]
century has been preserved, nor is there in any old book an engraving
or a description of a type. This neglected information has been
unwittingly furnished by a careless pressman in the office of Conrad
Winters, who printed at Cologne in 1476. This pressman, or his mate,
when inking a slackly justified form, permitted the inking ball to
pull out a thin-bodied type, which dropped sideways on the face of the
form. The accident was not noticed; the tympan closed upon the form,
and the bed was drawn under the platen. Down came the screw and platen,
jamming the unfortunate type in the form, and embossing it strongly in
the fibres of the thick wet paper, in a manner which reveals to us the
shape of Winters’ types more truthfully than it could have been done
even by special engraving. The height[381] of this type is a trifle
less than one American inch. The sloping shoulder, or the beard, as
it was once called, was made to prevent the blackening of the paper,
for it would have been blackened if the shoulder had been high and
square.[382] The circular mark, about [p521] one-tenth of an inch
diameter, on the side of the type, was firmly depressed in the metal,
but did not perforate it. As this type had no nick on the body, it is
apparent that the circular mark was cast there to guide the compositor.
When the type was put in the stick with the mark facing outward, the
compositor knew, without looking at the face, that it was rightly
placed. There is no groove at the foot. Duverger says that the early
types had no jet or breaking-piece; that the superfluous metal was cut
off, and the type made of proper height by sawing.[383] These details
may seem trifling, but they are of importance: they show that, in
the more important features, the types of the early printers closely
resembled ours.
There is a disagreement among bibliographers about the quantity of
types ordinarily cast for a font by the early printers. Some, judging
from appearances which show that one page only was printed at an
impression, say that they cast types for two or three pages only;
others maintain that they must have had very large fonts. That the
latter view is correct seems fully established after a survey of the
books known to have been printed by Zell, Koburger, Leeu, and others.
It would have been impossible to print these books in the short period
in which we know they were done, if the printer had not been provided
with abundance of types.[384] As the types were made in the printing
office, by a quick method, from an alloy which could be used repeatedly
for the same purpose, the supply was rarely limited by fear of expense.
The trades of compositor and pressman, and possibly that of
type-caster, were kept about as distinct then as they are now. There
were more compositors than pressmen, and the [p522] compositors,
says Madden, in the heroic age of printing, were not boys, but men
of education and intelligence. The early printers who were taught
the business that they might become masters had to pay a premium for
their education.[385] In the brief time that they gave to the work,
their education must have been more theoretical than practical. As the
branch of composition required the largest number of workmen, and more
intelligence, and less manual labor than any other, it was usually
selected by the pupil for practice. Of type-casting and presswork he
learned no more than was sufficient to enable him to direct the labors
of his future workmen. The knowledge of the trade which the pupil
coveted was the ability to practise it on his own account, and this
knowledge was, in most instances, satisfactorily acquired when he got a
theoretical knowledge of its secret processes.
The frequent specification of the _formen_ in the earliest notices of
printing shows that the mould, with its accompanying matrices, was
regarded as the key to the knowledge and practice of the art. As the
moulds were made by master mechanics, not bound to secrecy, and as the
earlier compositors had some knowledge of the process of type-casting,
it was not difficult for a journeyman to become a master printer. When
he had bought a type-mould and matrices, he could go to any city and
begin to print books. He could cast types and mix ink as he needed
them; he could buy paper and the constituents of type-metal in any
large town; properly instructed, any joiner could make the press.[386]
[Illustration: Presswork and Composition as done in 1564.
[From Jost Amman.]]
The annexed illustration, a fac-simile of one of Amman’s engravings of
a printing office, is from his book dated 1564. [p523] The case for the
type is of one piece and is resting on a rude frame. All the boxes are
represented as of the same size, but this is probably an error, for it
is an error which is frequently made by designers of this day.[387]
In this, and in many other early illustrations of type-setting, the
compositors are seated on stools. In Italy and in Paris, women were
employed as compositors. In the wood-cut used by Jodocus Badius[388]
for a trade-mark, we see a hard-featured dame before a narrow case,
composing types with judicial deliberation. She has in her left hand a
narrow composing stick, made to hold but two or three lines of small
types. The early stick was not like the neatly finished iron tool of
our time, with steel composing rule and an adjustable screw and knee
adapting it to any measure. It was a real stick of wood, a home-made
strip of deal, with the side and end-piece tacked on. For every measure
a new stick or a retacking of the movable piece was required. The date
of the introduction of the stick cannot be fixed, but it was used,
without alteration for many years, by the printers of all countries.
It is possible that some of the early printers [p524] had no sticks.
The peculiar workmanship of the unknown printer and of Albert Pfister
shows that the types were taken direct from the case and wedged in the
mortised blocks of wood which served for chases. Blades attributes the
uneven spacing and irregular endings of lines in the early printed
books of Caxton and of other printers, to their ignorance of the
advantages of a composing rule, without which types could not be
readily moved to and fro, and adjusted.[389]
In the following illustration, the compositor has the copy before her
in the shape of a book, but Conrad Zeltner, a learned printer of the
seventeenth century, said that this was not the early usage; that it
was customary to employ a reader to read aloud to the compositors, who
set the types from dictation, not seeing the copy. He also says that
the reader could dictate from as many different pages or copies to
three or four compositors working together.[390] When the compositors
were educated, the method of dictation may have been practised with
some success; when they were ignorant, it was sure to produce many
errors. Zeltner said that he preferred the old method, but he admits
that it had to be abandoned, on account of the increasing ignorance of
the compositors. [p525]
No feature of early printing is more unworkmanlike than that of
composition. Imitating the style of the manuscript copy, the compositor
huddled together words and paragraphs in solid columns of dismal
blackness, and sent his forms to press without title, running-titles,
chapter-heads and paging-figures. The space for the ornamental borders
and letters of the illuminator seems extravagant when contrasted with
the pinched spaces between lines and words. The printer trusted to
the bright colors of the illuminator to give relief to the blackness
of the types, not knowing that a purer relief and greater perspicuity
would have been secured by a wider spacing of the words and lines.
The obscurity produced by huddled and over-black types was increased
by the neglect of simple orthographical rules. Proper names were
printed with or without capitals, apparently to suit the whim of the
compositor. The comma, colon and period, the only points of punctuation
in general use, were employed capriciously and illogically. Crooked
and unevenly spaced lines and errors of arrangement or making-up were
common. Madden has pointed out several gross blunders, caused by the
transposition of lines and pages and an erroneous calculation of the
space that should be occupied by print. Words were mangled in division,
and in the display of lines in capital letters, in a manner that seems
inexcusable. But no usage of the early compositor is more annoying than
his lawless use of abbreviations. Imitating the example of Procrustes,
he made the words fit, chopping them off on any letter or in any
position, indifferent to the wants of the reader or to the proprieties
of language.[391] Whatever opinion may be entertained concerning [p526]
the deterioration of printing in other branches, it is, beyond all
cavil, certain that in the art of arranging types so that the meaning
of the author shall be made lucid, the modern compositor is much the
more intelligent mechanic.
Improvements were made slowly. The method of spacing out lines so
as to produce a regular outline at the right side of every page had
been practised before, but it was not in general use even as late as
1478. Arabic figures, instead of Roman numerals, were first used by
Ter Hoorne of Cologne, and by Helye of Munster in 1470. Signatures to
guide the binder in putting together in order the different sheets of
a book were first used in printed books by Zarot of Milan in 1470. As
the alphabetical letters of these signatures often had to be doubled,
and sometimes quadrupled in thick books, it became necessary to print a
full list of the signatures at the end of every book as an additional
guide to the binder. This list, _registrum chartarum_, seems to have
been first used by Colonna at Venice in 1475. The clumsiness of doubled
alphabetical letters should have led to the use of Arabic figures
for signatures, and should have suggested paging, but these reforms
were not adopted for many years afterward.[392] A table of errata,
two pages folio, was exhibited by Gabriel Peter of Venice in 1478.
The first full title, if a few lines in compact capital letters can
be so called, was made by Ratdolt of Venice in 1477, but his example
was not rapidly followed by rival printers. Running-titles and open
chapter-headings are innovations of the next century. The printers of
the fifteenth century who wished to free themselves from dependence on
the illuminator filled up the white spaces about chapter-headings with
bits of engraving on wood or metal. [p527]
Galleys, or trays of wood to keep in place the composed types, were
not known; the types were placed line after line, perhaps letter by
letter, in the mortised block of wood which served for the chase. Nice
justification was impossible. If two pages were put in one mortise, one
of these pages would often be out of square—an irregularity which has
led some bibliographers to think that each page was separately printed
from a separate form. The locking-up or tightening of the types, which
was roughly done, often made the types crooked, springing them off
their feet and making the spaces work up.[393]
The neglect of the early printers to praise their presses is remarkable
when contrasted with their frequent praises of the marvelous art
of type-making. It is inferential evidence that the press was then
regarded as an old contrivance, and not worthy of notice, but this
conclusion cannot be unreservedly accepted. The principle of pressure
was old, and for that reason, was undervalued by printers, but the
mechanism of the press was new. That the printing press was an
invention of merit will be perceived at a glance when it is compared
with the screw press which is supposed to have served as the basis of
construction.[394] That a proper method of doing presswork was devised
in the infancy of the art may be inferred, not only from the permanency
of the primitive form of press, all the important features of which
are still preserved in the modern hand-press, but from the meritorious
presswork of the first books. The _Bibles_ of Gutenberg were certainly
printed on a press which quickly gave and quickly released its
pressure, and which had the attachments of a movable bed, tympan and
frisket, and contrivances for neatly inking the types and for keeping
the paper in position.
[Illustration: Presswork and Composition as done in 1520.
[From Blades’ fac-simile of the print of Badius.]
Two upright beams, or cheeks, supporting a thick cross-piece, or cap,
made the frame-work. The cap held in place the screw and spindle which
gave the impression, and the descent of the spindle was steadied by the
large square collar, or till, which was supported by the cheeks. The
point of the spindle pressed against the impressing surface, or platen,
which was held in place by iron rods connecting it with the collar.
The bed of the press and the form of types are concealed by the tympan
drawer, which, with tympan and frisket, have been folded down and run
under the platen. See illustration on page 307, and explanation on page
280, for the uses of these parts. The bed was of stone, but every other
large piece was of wood. Iron was used only for the spindle, the core
of the bar-handle, for nuts and bolts, and the minor pieces for which
no other material would serve.]
Jodocus Badius of Paris was the first printer who published engravings
of the printing press. It cannot be asserted [p528] that they are
minutely accurate representations of the press then in use, but they
will serve to show its general construction. Two features provoke
hostile comment. Contrary to modern usage, the piles of white paper and
printed paper are unhandily placed on the off-side of the press, and
the stalwart pressman pulls home the bar with both arms. The platen
[p529] seems altogether too small when contrasted with the great
screw, the heavy frame, and the two-handed pull of the pressman. The
smallness of this platen was not an error of the designer. Moxon, who
has minutely described the press of his time, says that the platen of
an ordinary press should be of the size 9 by 14 inches, and that the
coffin, or trough in which the bed was placed, should be 28 inches long
and 22 inches wide. In other words, the platen was purposely made so
that it could impress less than half the surface of the bed; it could
print only one-half of one side of the sheet.[395] Small as this platen
may seem, it was large enough for the frame-work of wood. It gave great
resistance under pull, and severely taxed the strength of the pressman.
A platen of double size would have defied the pressman; it would have
sprung under pressure and have broken the bed of stone.
The types were inked by balls, an appliance which is not more than
fifty years out of fashion. These balls were made of untanned
sheepskin, stuffed hard with wool, and mounted with handles. The gluey
ink was evenly distributed by forcibly rocking their curved surfaces
against each other. This done, the balls were then beaten upon the
types in the form.
When we learn that the early presses were made almost entirely of wood,
and put together by ordinary joiners, we may infer that many were
unscientifically built,[396] and shackly. [p530] All the materials
for presswork were imperfect. The types, cut to length by a saw, were
of uneven height; the paper was usually of very rough surface and of
irregular thickness; the platen of wood, rarely ever truly flat, must
have given unequal pressure at different corners. It was necessary that
some substance should be put between the platen and the white sheet
which would compensate for these irregularities. This substance was a
woolen blanket, in two or more thicknesses, which spread or diffused
the impression. The wetting of the paper, which made it soft and
pliable, materially aided the pressman, but his great reliance seems to
have been on strong impression. All the old cuts of presses represent
the pressman tugging at the bar with a force which seems out of all
proportion to the size of the form.
[Illustration: Early Inking Balls.
[From a Playing Card of Sixteenth Century.]]
The early press was rude, and the method of printing was unscientific,
but in many offices the pressman was superior to his press and his
method. By doing his work slowly and carefully he often did it
admirably. It was always done slowly, with a waste of time which,
if allowed in the modern practice of printing, would make books
of excessive price. Some notion of this waste may be had after an
examination of the letters of the _Psalter of 1457_, in which exact
work was produced by painting, not by printing proper. That the
performance of the press even on ordinary black work was slow, is
indicated by the great number of presses used by the early printers,
and is proved by the plain statement of Philip de Lignamine, [p531]
who said that the printers of Mentz printed three hundred sheets a
day. This seems a small performance.[397]
The accurate register of the first books was produced by placing the
white sheet on four fixed points which perforated the four corners of
the leaf when the first side was printed. In printing the back of the
page, the half-printed sheet was hung on the same points, from the same
point-holes, and was impressed in the same position. Blades notices the
four point-holes in some of Caxton’s books, and it is probable that the
mysterious pin-holes in other books are the marks of points. It was
soon discovered that register could be had with two points, which were
placed in the centre of the sheet where the marks would be hidden by
the binder.[398] [p532]
The printing ink of the fifteenth century, as we now see it, is
of unequal merit. In the books of Jenson it appears as an intense,
velvety, glossy black; in the _Bibles_ of Gutenberg it is a strong,
permanent black, without gloss; in the _Psalter of 1457_ it appears in
some places as a glossy black, and in others as a faded color which
had to be retouched with the pen; in the works of the unknown printer
it is a dingy and smearing black; in the book of some printers it is a
paste color which can be rubbed off with a sponge; in nearly all, it is
uneven, over-black on one page and gray on another.[399]
The general impression that early printing ink is blacker and brighter
than modern ink is not always correct. Early ink seems blacker, because
it is shown in greater quantity, for the early types were larger, of
broader face, without hair lines, and could be over-colored without
disadvantage.[400] The same ink applied to the small thin Roman
types of our time, [p533] would seem dull and gray. The microscopic
examination of any early ink will show that the black is not fine and
not thoroughly mixed with proper drying oil. But this imperfection is
comparatively unimportant. It is a graver fault in some early inks that
they are not firmly fixed to the paper.[401]
There is no trustworthy account of the invention of printing ink, but
the types and the inks were undoubtedly invented together. One was
the proper complement of the other. It may be supposed that Gutenberg
acquired the knowledge of the newly found properties of boiled
linseed oil[402] from German painters. It is certain that he used
oil as the basis of his ink, and that it was also used by his pupils
and successors. And it has been in use ever since, for there is no
substitute.
INGREDIENTS OF PRINTING INK
USED BY THE RIPOLI PRESS.
_Ingredients._ _Tuscan _American
Currency._ Currency._
Linseed Oil, bbl. lir. 3 10 0 $3.17
Turpentine, lb. 4 0 .18
Pitch, Greek 4 0 .18
Pitch, Black 1 8 7-1/2
Marcassite 3 0 .13-1/2
Vermilion 5 0 .22-3/4
Rosin 3 0 .13-1/2
Varnish, hard 8 0 .36
Varnish, liquid 12 0 .54
Nutgalls 4 0 .18
Vitriol 4 0 .18
Shellac 3 0 .13-1/2
We have not been told how the ink was compounded. Our nearest approach
to this knowledge is through the Cost Book of the Ripoli Press for
1481, which specifies and prices the materials. As no [p534] mention
is made of smoke-black, we have to infer that pitch was burnt to make
this black. Linseed oil, as the most bulky ingredient, very properly
occupies the first place. The real value of nutgalls and vitriol is not
so apparent: they were important ingredients in writing ink, and the
Italian printer may have thought them indispensable in printing ink.
Shellac and liquid varnish were used to give a glossy surface.
Printers soon discovered that printing was an art of too many details,
and that the manufacture of printing ink was its most objectionable
duty. There was risk of fire in the boiling of linseed oil; there was
discomfort and dirt connected with the manipulation of the ingredients;
and in inexpert hands there was waste and often entire failure. In all
large cities, ink-making was set apart and practised as a distinct
trade. As a necessary consequence, the quality deteriorated through the
competition that followed. Moxon’s criticism of ink made in England in
1683 could be applied without any injustice to much of the ink of the
fifteenth century.[403] [p535]
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of a large Wood-cut, said to be of
the Fifteenth Century.
[From Jackson.]]
Gutenberg, Schœffer, Zell, Mentel and many early printers of France
and Italy neglected engraving on wood.[404] It may be that this
neglect originated in the difficulties of printing types and wood-cuts
together,[405] or in a despisal of the rude productions of the
block-printers,[406] and in the intention of the [p536] typographers
to make emphatic the superiority of their branch. Wood-cuts were freely
used by typographers in the heart of Germany and in the Netherlands,
the districts where we find the earliest notices of block-printing,
but they are generally of a low order. Many of them are barbarous, as
faulty in cutting as in drawing, and pleasing only to uncultivated
tastes. It is probable that, about this time, many of the more skillful
engravers and designers[407] abandoned the practice of xylography,
attracted, no doubt, by the superior advantages offered by the newly
invented art of copper-plate printing. The art of engraving on wood,
although it afterward enlisted the services of artists like Durer and
Holbein, could not compete with this formidable rival. It suffered a
long eclipse, from which it did not emerge until the days of Bewick.
The quality of the paper in early books is as unequal as the printing.
In the _Bible of 36 lines_, the paper is thick and strong, of coarse
fibre, yellowish, apparently made from sun-bleached flax; in the books
of Schœffer, and of the later German printers, the paper is thinner,
but dingy and harsh; in the books of the Venetian printers, it is often
very thin, usually of smooth surface and a creamy white tint that
seems to have been unchanged by time. Different qualities are often
noticeable in the same book. There were many paper-mills from which the
printers drew their supplies, and every mill made different qualities.
Blades says that it was the practice to sort the paper before printing,
separating the rough from the smooth, and the thin from the thick,
and to print and bind together sheets of similar quality. The sizes
required by printers were small. The books first made were printed
on sheets about 16 by 21 inches, one leaf of which was as large as
could be printed by one pull of the press. The sizes 15 by 20, 14 by
18 and 12 by 15 inches were common, and [p537] in request for quartos
and octavos. The largest size seems to have been royal, about 20 by
25 inches. The Cost Book of the Ripoli Press gives names and prices
to nine distinct qualities or sizes of paper, but it does not define
the weights and measurements. The smallest size and cheapest quality,
possibly a pot foolscap, was put down at the price of 2 lire 8 soldi
(about $2.18) per ream; the largest and best, probably royal, at 6 lire
8 soldi (about $5.80) per ream.[408]
[Illustration: The Fall of Lucifer, as shown in Zainer’s Edition of the
Speculum Salutis.
An Illustration of the Degradation of Engraving on Wood.
[From Heineken.]]
The paper made for the _Bibles_ of Gutenberg and for the earlier books
was the ordinary writing paper of the period. Made from linen rags
that had not been weakened by caustic alkalies or by steam-boiling and
gas-bleaching processes, and strongly sized by the dipping of each
sheet in a tub [p538] containing a thin solution of glue, it was
strong and of hard surface. But the qualities which commended the paper
to the copyist were objectionable to the printer. The hard surface
caused harsh impression, and strong sizing made the damp sheets stick
together. It was soon discovered that unsized paper, which, according
to Madden, was about half the price of the sized, was easier to print.
It would take a clearer impression, and more thoroughly imbibe the
oily ink. These advantages could not be overlooked, and, consequently,
hard-sized papers went out of fashion. By far the largest part of the
books printed during the last quarter of the fifteenth century were of
unsized or half-sized paper.
The early printer tried to gratify luxurious tastes by printing copies
on vellum, but its inordinate price, and the great difficulties then
encountered in printing, obliged him to give it up as an impracticable
material. When book-lovers found that able printers like Kerver and
Pigouchet printed paper more neatly and evenly in color, vellum[409]
went out of fashion.
[Illustration: A Print of 1475, probably the work of an amateur
engraver.
[From Heineken.]]
We do not know what system or method was observed in early
proof-reading. Madden has pointed out many curious errors in three
distinct copies of a book printed at Weidenbach about 1464, which
seem to show that the compositor of each copy read the proof of his
own work, and read it badly. Possibly this was the method of many
of the amateur printers of that century, whose books, according to
Schelhorn, bristle with horrid and squalid errors. It could not have
been the method of Gutenberg, whose _Bibles_, although not free from
faults, were obviously read with care. Nor was it the method of careful
printers, for there is evidence that many of them [p539] enlisted the
services of eminent scholars as proof-readers or correctors of the
press.[410] These correctors did a double duty; they corrected the
errors of the compositors and those of the manuscript copy.[411] From
the frequency and earnestness of the complaints then made concerning
faulty manuscript texts, [p540] it seems that the copyists needed
correction more than the compositors. But the correctors were not
always equal to the task. Some of them were grossly incompetent, and
still further corrupted the texts they undertook to improve.[412]
Considering the difficulties the early printers encountered in getting
correct copies and competent readers, it is surprising that their books
are not more full of faults. The errors of early printed books have
been frequently commented on, but the remarks of Prosper Marchand are,
perhaps, the most emphatic:
It is a prejudice altogether too common, a prejudice which dealers
in old books have kept alive and profited from, to think that the
editions of the fifteenth century are more accurate because they were
printed from manuscript copies. Many of these editions were printed
from faulty texts, picked up by chance, or selected without judgment
by printers who were unable to see their faults, and were still
further corrupted by the ignorance and rashness of their editors and
correctors. I know that this is a kind of literary blasphemy, but it
is warranted by respectable authority. . . . They are deceived who
think that books are accurate in proportion to their age. For the most
part, the older they are, the more inaccurate they are.[413] [p541]
Inaccurate as early printed books may have been, they were more
correct than those of the copyists. The errors of a faulty first
edition were soon discovered and the faulty editions were supplanted by
the perfect. It is not the least of the many benefits of printing that
it has effectually prevented the accidental or intentional debasement
of texts.
The inferiority of the tools of the early printing office could be
plainly exhibited by contrasting them with those of our time—the
early hand-press with the modern cylinder printing machine—the entire
collection of types made in the fifteenth century with the specimen
book of any reputable modern type-founder. But the pride of the young
printer in improvements which have been most largely made by the men
of this century should be modified by the reflection that there has
been no change in the theory, and but few changes in the elementary
processes of printing. The punch, matrix and mould, the tympan, frisket
and points, the use of damp paper and oily ink, of curved surfaces for
applying the ink, and of blankets for diffusing the impression, are
still in fashion. Printing is done quicker, cheaper, with more neatness
and accuracy, with more regard for the convenience of the reader, with
many new features of artistic merit, and in varieties and quantities
so vast that there can be no comparison between early and modern
productions—but it is the same kind of work it was in the beginning. It
has not been made obsolete by lithography or photography, nor by any
other invention of our time. The method invented by Gutenberg still
keeps its place at the head of the graphic arts.
[p543]
AUTHORITIES CONSULTED.
BECKMANN JOHN. A History of Inventions, Discoveries and Origins.
Translated by William Johnston. 12mo. 2 vols. London, 1846.
BERJEAU J. PH. Biblia Pauperum. Reproduced in Fac-simile . . . . . . .
with an Historical and Bibliographical Introduction. Folio. London,
1859.
—— —— Le Bibliophile Illustré for 1861. Imperial 8vo. London, 1862.
—— —— Book-worm for 1866. Imperial 8vo. London, 1866.
BERNARD AUG. De l’origine et des débuts de l’imprimerie en Europe. 8vo.
2 vols. Paris, 1853.
BIBLIOPHILE BELGE BULLETIN DU. 8vo. Vols. I to IX. Brussels, 1845–1852.
BLADES WILLIAM. The Life and Typography of William Caxton, England’s
First Printer, etc. Royal 4to. 2 vols. London, 1861–1863.
BREITKOPF JOH. GOTTL. IMMAN. Versuch den Ursprung der Spielkarten, die
Einführung des Leinenpapieres, und den Anfang der Holzschneidekunst in
Europa. 4to. 2 vols. in one. Leipsic, 1784.
CAMPBELL M.-F.-A.-G. Annales de la typographie Néerlandaise au XVe
siècle. 8vo. La Haye, 1874.
CAMUS. Notice d’un livre imprimé à Bamberg en 1462. 4to. Paris, an VII.
CRAPELET G.-A. Études pratiques et littéraires sur la typographie. 8vo.
Paris, 1837.
DAUNOU ——. Analyse des opinions diverses sur l’origine de l’imprimerie.
8vo. Paris, an XI.
DE LA BORDE LÉON. Débuts de l’imprimerie à Strasbourg, ou recherches
sur les travaux mystérieux de Gutenberg dans cette ville, et sur le
procès qui lui fut intenté en 1439 à cette occasion. 8vo. Paris, 1840.
—— —— Débuts de l’imprimerie à Mayence et à Bamberg, ou description des
lettres d’indulgence du pape Nicholas V pro regno Cypri, imprimées en
1454. Royal 4to. Paris, 1840.
DE VRIES A. Éclaircissemens sur l’histoire de l’invention de
l’imprimerie. 8vo. La Haye, 1843.
DIDOT M. AMBROISE FIRMIN. Essai sur la typographie. 8vo. Paris, 1851.
DOUCE FRANCIS. Holbein’s Dance of Death . . . with a Dissertation, etc.
12mo. London, 1872.
FALKENSTEIN KARL. Geschichte der Buchdruckerkunst in ihrer Entstehung
und Ausbildung. 4to. Leipsic, 1840.
FISCHER GOTTHELF. Essai sur les monuments typographiques de Jean
Gutenberg, mayençais, inventeur de l’imprimerie. 4to. Mayence, an X.
FOURNIER le jeune P. S. Manuel typographique. 16mo. 2 vols. Paris,
1764–1766.
GRESSWELL WILLIAM PARR. Annals of Parisian Typography, etc. 8vo.
London, 1818.
HAIN L. Repertorium Bibliographicum, in quo Libri Omnes ab Arte
Typographica Inventa usque ad Annum MD. typis expressi, etc. 8vo. 2
vols. Stuttgardt, 1826–1838.
HALLAM HENRY. Introduction to the Literature of Europe in the
Fifteenth, Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. 8vo. 2 vols. New-York,
1841.
—— —— View of the State of Europe during the Middle Ages. 8vo. 3 vols.
Boston, 1853.
HANSARD T. C. Typographia: an Historical Sketch of the Origin and
Progress of the Art of Printing, etc. 8vo. London, 1825.
HEINEKEN C. H. Idée générale d’une collection complette d’estampes,
avec une dissertation sur l’origine de la gravure et sur les premiers
livres d’images. 8vo. Leipsic and Vienna, 1771.
HELBIG HENRI. Une Découverte pour l’histoire de l’imprimerie. Pamphlet,
8vo. Brussels, 1855.
—— —— Notes et dissertations relatives à l’histoire de l’imprimerie.
Pamphlet, 8vo. Brussels, without date. (From Vol. XVIII of the
_Bibliophile Belge_.)
HOLTROP JOH. GUIL. Catalogus Librorum Sæculo XVº Impressorum, quotquot
in Bibliotheca Regia Hagana asservantur. 8vo. Hagae-Comitum, 1856.
—— —— Monuments typographiques des Pays-Bas au quinzième siècle. Folio.
La Haye, 1868.
HUMPHREYS H. NOEL. A History of the Art of Printing from its Invention,
etc. Folio. Second Issue. London, 1868.
JACKSON JOHN and CHATTO W. A. A Treatise on Wood Engraving, etc. Second
Edition. 8vo. London, 1861.
JACOB P. L. (Lacroix.) Curiosités de l’histoire des arts. 16mo. Paris,
1858.
JOHNSON J. Typographia, or the Printers’ Instructor, including an
Account of the Origin of Printing. 24mo. 2 vols. London, 1824.
KONING JACQUES. Dissertation sur l’origine, l’invention, et le
perfectionnement de l’imprimerie. 8vo. Amsterdam, 1819.
LACROIX PAUL (Bibliophile Jacob), E. FOURNIER et F. SERÉ. Histoire de
l’imprimerie et des arts et professions, etc. Imperial 8vo. Paris, 1852.
LA CAILLE JEAN DE. Histoire de l’imprimerie et de la librarie où l’on
voit son origine et son progrés jusqu’en 1689. 4to. Paris, 1689.
LAMBINET P. Recherches historiques, littéraires et critiques sur
l’origine de l’imprimerie. 8vo. Brussels, an VII.
LANZI ABATE LUIGI. The History of Painting in Italy, etc. Translated by
Thomas Roscoe. 12mo. 3 vols. London, 1852.
MADDEN J.-P.-A. Lettres d’un bibliographe. Series I to IV. Royal 8vo.
Versailles and Paris, 1868–1875.
MAITTAIRE M. Annales Typographici ab Artis Inventæ Origine ad annum
MDCLXIV. 4to. 5 vols. Hagae-Comitum, 1719–1741.
MARCHAND PROSPER. Histoire de l’origine et des prémiers progrès de
l’imprimerie. 4to. La Haye, 1740.
MEERMAN G. Origines Typographicæ. 4to. 2 vols. Hagae-Comitum, 1765.
MERLIN R. Origine des cartes à jouer, etc. 4to. Paris, without date.
MOXON JOSEPH. Mechanick Exercises: or the Doctrine of Handy-Works.
Applied to the Art of Printing. Small 4to. London, 1683.
MUNSELL JOEL. A Chronology of Paper and Paper Making. 8vo. Albany, 1870.
NICHOLS ——. The Origin of Printing, etc. 8vo. London, 1774.
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Engraving upon Copper and on Wood. 2 vols. 4to. London, 1816.
—— —— An Inquiry concerning the Invention of Printing, etc., with an
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—— —— Principia Typographica. The Block-Books, or Xylographic
Delineations, etc. Folio, 3 vols. London, 1858.
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VAN DER LINDE. The Haarlem Legend of the Invention of Printing by
Lourens Janszoon Coster Critically Examined. From the Dutch by J. A.
Hessels, with an Introduction, etc. 8vo. London, 1871.
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Johann Gutenberg zu Mainz. 8vo. 1836.
WOLTMANN ALFRED. Holbein and His Time. Translated by F. E. Bunnètt,
8vo. London, 1872.
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[p547]
INDEX
Abbreviations, excessive use of, 164, 525
— of Bible of 36 lines, 414
Abecedarium of Enschedé, 289, 290
Accuracy in types, importance of, 52
Accursius Mariangelus, 256
Acta Diurna of old Rome, 44
Adolph, count of Nassau, 438
— his patronage of Gutenberg, 440
Æneas Sylvius, Pope Pius II, 287
Aix-la-Chapelle, fair of, 394
Aldus Manutius, 291, 503, 540
Amman Jost, the artist, 61
Anachronisms, 206, 211, 218, 497
Andrieszoon Jan, of Haarlem, 320
Annunciation, print of, 72
Antichrist, the block-book, 231
Antimony, probable use of, 66, 519
Antwerp, early type-printing at, 500
— first block-printer at, 314
Apocalypse of St. John, block-book, 210
— evidences of its age, 214
— prices paid for, 211
Apostles’ Creed, the block-book, 228
Appeal against the Turks, 410
Arabic figures, first use of, 526
Ars Memorandi, the block-book, 233
Ars Moriendi, the block-book, 235
Association of printers at Milan, 504
— — — at Strasburg, 381
Assyrian Cylinders, 33
Augsburg, early printing at, 497
Babylon, bricks of, 33
Badius Jodocus, of Paris, 506
Bamberg, Bible of, see Bible of 36 lines.
— early printing at, 485
— Missal, 495
Batavia of Adrian Junius, 335
— its authority considered, 336
Bearers of early printing press, 306
Bechtermüntz, Henry and Nicholas, 441
Beildick Lorentz, testimony of, 385
Bellaert Jacob, of Zierikzee, 319
Berlin print, 80
Bernard August, history of, 11
Bible, early translations of, 181
— first with wood-cuts, 498
— reading of prohibited, 182
Bible, Mazarin, see Bible of 42 lines.
Bible of 1462 (48 lines), 462
Bibles of Mentel at Strasburg, 491
Bible of 36 lines, description of, 412
— — — — its discovery, 411
— — — — not printed by Pfister, 484
— — — — peculiarities of, 414
— — — — possibly the first, 412
— — — — Schelhorn’s view of, 480
— — — — speculations about, 432
— — — — when printed, 415
Bible of 42 lines, description of, 419
— — — — annotations in, 424
— — — — cost of, 474
— — — — defects of, 422
— — — — ornamentation of, 422
— — — — prices paid for, 425
— — — — probably of slow sale, 425
— — — — two kinds of copies, 450
— — — — workmanship of, 421
Bible of the Poor, editions from types, 208
— — — — xylographic editions of, 199
— — — — description of, 200
— — — — Nordlingen edition, 208
— — — — prices paid for, 208
— — — — printing of, 203
Blemishes in books, how corrected, 271
Block-books, Antichrist, 230
— Apocalypse, 210
— Apostles’ Creed, 228
— Ars Memorandi, 233
— Ars Moriendi, 235
— Bible of the Poor, 198
— Book of Kings, 224
— Canticles, 215
— Chiromancy of Hartlieb, 239
— Dance of Death, 247
— Donatus, 254
— Eight Rogueries, 229
— Exercise Lord’s Prayer, 222
— German Planetarium, 241
— Grotesque Alphabet, 226
— Life of St. Meinrat, 246
— Pomerium Spirituale, 244
— Story of the Virgin, 219
— Temptations of Devil, 245
— Wonders of Rome, 243
— absurdities in, 222
— advantages of, 261
— definition of, 194
— disregarded by scholar, 251
— earliest date in, 245
Block-books, great number of, 194, 248
— inferiority of, 195
— literary merit of, 250
— made for priests, 248
— obscurity of, 260
— period of, 251
— permitted to people, 249
— popularity of, 238, 249
— where made, 252
Block-printers, many in number, 248
— faulty work of, 248
— unknown, 252
Block-printing an established trade, 253
— early notices of, 91
— in Holland, 256
— not Gutenberg’s secret, 395
— process of, 83
— slighted, 86, 184
Blocks used for engraving, 114
Bodies, irregularities of, explained, 519
Bodies of types, cuts of, 25, 56, 275, 406
— — — in Speculum, 275
— — — not made by rule, 518
— — — of Caxton, 293
— — — of unknown printer, 292
Bodman’s spurious documents, 436
Book of Kings, 224
Book of Trades, 61
Book-binding, Chinese, 116
— of middle ages, 153
— prices paid for, 168
— sumptuous forms of, 156
Book-collecting, a princely hobby, 167
Book-making, as done in old Rome, 42
— an ecclesiastical art, 148
— becomes a trade, 187
— given up to copyists, 159
— in Ireland, 147
— in monasteries, 148
— oriental method of, 136
Book of Four Stories, 481
Book of Fables, 482
Books, printed, changes in style of, 472
— Chinese, cheapness of, 119
— common in old Rome, 43
— demand for cheapness in, 187
— early printed, cheapness of, 511
— early printed, prices of, 512
— medieval, 150
— — character of, 162
— — cheap forms of, 154, 163
— — large size of, 156
— — made by artists, 166
— — made for the rich, 170
— — neglected by clergy, 159
— — obsoleteness of, 186
— — of romance, 165
— — sale of regulated, 160
— — sumptuousness of, 168
— of dark ages, 45
— of monasteries, 216
— of pictures, 163
— of unknown printer, 284
— number printed before 1500, 511
— the right of the educated, 251
— injudiciously selected, 512
— written and printed, 188
Book-sellers of Paris, 160
Book-selling restricted, 162
Boxhorn, Marcus Zuerius, 350
Branding in middle ages, 38
Brass moulds or matrices, 61
Brass stamps of middle ages, 38
Brass types impracticable, 65
Brethren of Life-in-Common, 177, 250, 443
Bricks, stamped, antiquity of, 30
Brito John, of Bruges, 321
Brotherhood of the Life-in-Common at Weidenbach, 250, 495
Bruges, early printing at, 499
— guild of book-makers at, 314
Brussels print, 78
Bull of Pope Pius II against the Turks, 464
Burnisher of engravers, 84
Calendar of 1457, 432
Calendar or Almanac of 1460, 436
Calico-printing, early, 127
Calligraphy, early, 148, 166
Cambray, record of, 312
Canticles, the block-book, 215
Card-makers, early, 91
Case of early compositors, 523
Castaldi Pamphilo, 28, 486
Catholicon of 1460, 434
Caxton William, of England, 507
Celebration of the Mass, 436
Cennini Bernard, 503
Chases of wood, 306, 527
Chinese printing, early method of, 111
— language not fit for types, 116
— paper, invention of, 133
Chiromancy of Dr. Hartlieb, 238
Cicero, his speculations on types, 36
Clog of England, 175
Codex Argenteus, 125
Cologne as a school for printers, 324, 495
Cologne Chronicle of 1499, 315
Cologne, early printing at, 494
Color work of Peter Schœffer, 456
Complaint against Death, 483
Composing rules, early ignorance of, 524
Composition as done in 1564, 523
— by dictation, 524
— double, indications of, 464
— in imitation of writing, 525
— imperfections of, 525
Composition of types in China, 118
— — — a test of age, 312
— — — cost of, 24
Compositors often men of education, 522
— sometimes women, 523
Condition of medieval society, 179
Confraternity of St. John the Baptist, 314
Consolation of the Sinner, 482
Constitutions of Pope Clement V, 461
Coornhert and Van Zuren, 320
Copper-plate printing, process of, 19
— — invention of, 27
Copyists, faults of, 539
— fond of pictures, 163
— of middle ages, 149
— of old Rome, 42
— of Paris, 162
Cornelis, the binder, 284, 332, 343
Correctors of the press, 540
Coster, Lourens Janszoon, 326
Coster, as described by Junius, 331
— — — by Koning, 356
— — — in archives, 365
— — — in chair book, 367
— — — in treasury book, 366
— as a printer, 339
— as a sexton, 338
— as a tallow-chandler, 365
— as a tavern keeper, 369
— confounded with Janszoon, 368
— alleged descendants of, 345
— portraits of, 371, 374
— statues of, 351, 359
— tablets to, 359, 360
Costerian Museum, 361
Counter-punch, use of, 54
Couplets of Cato 285, 288
Cuneiform inscriptions, 30
Cunio, the story of the two, 129
Cylinders of Assyria, 34
Dance of Death, Holbein’s designs, 183
— — — in Nuremberg Chronicle, 185
— — — popularity of, 184
— — — the block-book, 247
Decretals of Boniface VIII, 466
Desroches, his story about Ludwig, 315
De Vries Abraham, on Coster, 357
Dialogue between Cato, Hugo, et al., 436
Dictation, Madden’s theory of, 450, 524
Diether, Count of Isenburg, 438
Dissertation on Invention, Boxhorn’s, 350
Doctor Hartlieb, Chiromancy of, 238
Doctrinal of Alexander Gallus, 285, 288
— of Cambray, 312
Donatus noticed by Zell, 256, 315
— ascribed to Gutenberg, 258, 401
— imitations of type-work, 261
— of Gutenberg at Mentz, 404
— of Koning, 259
— suggested typography, 392
— of Sweinheym, 257
— of unknown printer, 284
— popularity of the book, 254
Dordrecht, tradition of printing at, 257
Dritzehen Claus, complaint of, 380
— Andrew, death of, 384
— — services of, 387
— Ennel, testimony of, 383
— George, 386
Dünne Hans, testimony of, 388
Education, state of in XIVth century, 172
Education of schools in middle ages, 176
— afforded by block-books, 249
— early, made difficult, 263
— modern, aided by types, 260
Eggestein Henry, of Strasburg, 491
Eight Rogueries, the block-book, 229
Eltvill, printing done at, 439
— a suburb of Mentz, 443
Embossed types of unknown printer, 280
— — of Codex Argenteus, 126
Endkrist, the block-book, 230
Engravers, early, jealousy of, 498
Engravers on wood, early, notices of, 184
Engraving an aid to the invention, 396
Engraving decadence of, 536
— large blocks of, 536
— often done on metal, 535
— of Pfister, 484
— at Augsburg, 498
— at Nuremberg, 496
— not mother of typography, 392
— not practised at Haarlem, 321
— of playing cards, 91
— of punches, 65, 514
— on wood, by the Cunios, 130
— — — Chinese practice, 116
— — — early forms of, 132
— — — rudeness of, 239, 536
— — — Italian practice of, 131
— — — merit of early work, 71
— — — neglect of, 278, 535
— — — of letters, 200
— — — origin considered, 75
— — — used by copyists, 124
Enschedé on wood types, 297, 355
Epitaphs of Pope Pius II, 287
Erasmus, his version of the invention, 345
— as a corrector, 540
Errata, first appearance of, 526
Errors of early books, 540
— typographical, frequency of, 458, 525
Eulogy on Lorenzo Valla, 287
Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer, 222
Fables, Book of, by Pfister, 482
Fables of Lorenzo Valla, 286
Faust John, as described by Junius, 331
Faustus Jo. Frid., testimony of, 478
Finiguerra Maso, 27
Flanders, early importance of, 178
Flemings, their skill in the arts, 178
Flemish block-printing, 215, 252, 314
Florence, early printing at, 503
Form, ambiguity of the word, 397
Formen, 397, 443, 466, 476, 522
Forms of metal, notices of, 387
— melted by Gutenberg, 397
— were probably matrices, 398, 443
Four pieces, the tool of, 398
Fraternity of St. John the Baptist, 314
— of St. Luke, 315
Friction, press-work by, 204
Frisket, early use of, 280
Frotton of engravers on wood, 83
— not used by block-printers, 204
Fust John, conflicting views about, 417
— — death of, 468
— — his suit against Gutenberg, 425
— — his victory over Gutenberg, 430
— — was not Faust, 416
— Conrad, 468
— Jacob, the judge, 428
Fust’s sale of Bible in Paris, 466
Gebwiler, testimony of, 489
Gelthus Adam, tablet of, 446
Gensfleisch John, not a printer, 404
— family of, 377
Gering Ulrich, 505
German Planetarium and Calendar, 241
Germany, its progress in education, 177
— — — in useful arts, 178
Getté en molle, meaning of the term, 313
Goldsmiths as punch-cutters, 514
Gothic character, popularity of, 516
Gothic letters, origin of, 150
— — popularity of, 516
— — varieties of, 406
— — Petrarch’s dislike of, 151
Grotesque Alphabet, the block-book, 227
Guilds of middle ages, 186, 390
— of book-makers, 187
Gutenberg, family of, 376
Gutenberg John, early life of, 377
— as a book-maker, 419
— as a courtier, 440
— as a financier, 379
— as an engraver, 395, 396
— as an inventor, 381, 416, 448
— as an organizer, 389
— books printed by, 433
— careless of fame, 434
— Catholicon of, 435
— courage of, 431
— death of, 442
— experiments of, 402
— memorials of, 446, 447
— partnership of, at Strasburg, 387
— partnership of, at Mentz, 418
— planned the Psalter, 459
— poverty of, 385, 402, 433
— probable marriage of, 379
— supplanted by Schœffer, 430
— trials of, at Strasburg, 379, 380
— — — at Mentz, 425
— unknown work of, 437
Gutenberg’s types, history of, 443
— defense against Fust, 427
— idea of typography, 445
— place in history, 448
Haarlem, first notice of legend of, 327
— known printers at, 319
— neglected printing, 345, 335
Hahn Ulrich, 501
Hanequis Conrad, 468
Hanseatic League, 179
Hasback of Haarlem, 320
Hauman Frederic, 443
Heilmann Anthony, testimony of, 387
Hessels J. H., writings of, 284
Holland, early printing of, 315, 256
— confounded with Netherlands, 316
— not the birthplace of invention, 318
Horarium of Scaliger, 257
— of Adrien Rooman, 260
Horn-book of England, 174
How to Die Becomingly, 235
How to Remember the Evangelists, 233
Humery Conrad, friend to Gutenberg, 431
— — acknowledgment of, 442
Ignorance, prevalence of in dark ages, 45
— of ecclesiastics, 147
Iliad of Homer, the school-book, 287, 288
Illuminated books of middle ages, 152
Illuminators and calligraphers, 166
Impression by different methods, 26
— doubling of, 278
— not typography, 50
— on bricks, 30
Impression on early hand press, 306, 530
— on paper and vellum, 538
— on textile fabrics, 127
Image prints all devotional, 85
— — Annunciation, 72
— — Berlin print, 80
— — Brussels print, 78
— — Indulgence print, 77
— — St. Christopher, 71
— — preceded books, 69
— — how printed, 83
— — made for stenciling, 70
— — merit of, 87
— — not done by friction, 84
— — not made by monks, 86
— — origin of, 69
— — popularity of, 86
— — where made, 82
Impositions of eight pages, 291
Initial letters of Italy, 122, 487
— — of early printers, 516
Inking balls, how made, 529
Inking of printing surfaces, 25
Ink Printing, affected by paper, 532
— — deterioration of, 534
— — early, faults of, 454
— — early, unstableness of, 533
— — inequality of, 532
— — Moxon’s criticism of, 534
— — of Bible of 42 lines, 421
— — of Donatus of Mentz, 404
— — of Jenson, 532
— — of Psalter of Mentz, 456
— — of the block-printers, 203
— — of the Psalter of 1457, 452
— — of the Ripoli press, 533
— — of unknown printer, 270, 278
— — the complement of types, 533
Ink writing, antiquity of, 39
— — useless in printing, 40
Invention, merit of, not in idea, 445, 487
Inventions not the work of experts, 395
Invention of paper in China, 133
Invention of press, not noticed, 304
— — — why neglected, 527
Invention of Printing,
— — — early notices of, 446
— — — a great discovery, 67
— — — came at the right time, 45
— — — different methods of, 28
— — — key of in the type-mould, 67
— — — merit of, not in the idea, 51
— — — — — in the type-mould, 445
— — — not perfect in 1439, 394
— — — probable causes of, 15, 28
— — — waited for readers, 45
— — — version of Bertius, 347
— — — — — Coornhert, 327
— — — — — De Vries, 357
— — — — — Erasmus, 318, 345
— — — — — Guicciardini, 329
— — — — — Jo. Frid. Faustus, 478
— — — — — Junius, 330
— — — — — Koning, 356
— — — — — Meerman, 353, 354
— — — — — Scaliger, 257
— — — — — John Schœffer, 473
— — — — — Scriverius, 348
— — — — — Seiz, 352
— — — — — Trithemius, 445, 474
— — — — — Van Zuren, 328
— — — — — Wimpheling, 393
— — — — — Zell, 315
Invention of printing ink, 40, 331, 533
Inventions of the middle ages, 177
Invention of types, not boasted of, 435
— — — alleged thefts of, 332, 342
Ireland, the book-makers of, 147
Italy, early printers of, 500
— its enthusiasm for the art, 505
Jan, the printer at Antwerp, 314
Janszoon not Janszoon Coster, 356, 368
Japan, paper of, 133
Jenson Nicholas, 465
— — as a type founder, 502
John of Gamundia, calendar of, 241
John of Westphalia, as a publisher, 498
Judgment of Man after Death, 483
Junius Hadrian, sketch of his life, 334
— — credulousness of, 336
— — history of, 335
Kepfer (or Keffer) Henry, 437, 495
Ketel Anthonis, of Haarlem, 320
Ketelaer and De Leempt, 498
Kerver Thielman, of Paris, 506
Keyser Peter, of Paris, 506
Knowledge, acquisition of, difficult, 263
Knowledge a monopoly, 146, 251
Koburger Anthony, of Nuremberg, 495
Koning’s book on the invention, 356
Koster Lourens Janszoon, see Coster.
Labor, division of, by printers, 521
Latin language, why preserved, 147
— — abbreviations of, 164
— — key to all knowledge, 176
Laurecrans of Scriverius, 348
Lead used by Gutenberg, 380
Leads first used by Schœffer, 467
Lecturn of the middle ages, 156
Leeu Gerard, industry of, 500
Legend of Haarlem, 326
— — — began with pedigree, 362
— — — contradictions of, 358
— — — early meagreness of, 328
— — — echo of false history, 340
— — — exposure of, 363
— — — improbability of, 346
— — — unfixed dates of, 350, 357
Legend of Walchius about the sale of first printed books at Paris, 466
Letters engraved, peculiarities of, 262
— — imperfections of, 200
Lettres de somme or Round Gothic, 313
— de forme or Pointed Gothic, 313
Letter of Indulgence of 1461, 433
Letters of Indulgence of 1454, 405
— — — Holbein’s satire on, 407
— — — popularity of, 408
— — — translation of, 409
Libraries, early, neglect of, 159
— in France and Burgundy, 167
Life of St. Meinrat, 246
Literature, decline of in old Rome, 44
— neglect of by the Church, 147
— of popular books, 187
— of the romance books, 165
— revolutionized by printing, 186
— the privilege of a class, 170, 251
Lithography, process of, 20
— invention of, 27
Little Book of the Mass, 284
London, early printing at, 508
Louvain, early printing at, 498
Lyons, early printing at, 506
Making-up badly done, 525
Mansion Colard, of Bruges, 499
Manuscripts, faultiness of, 540
Manutius Aldus, 503
— as an editor, 540
Marco Polo does not notice printing, 120
Marks of notaries, 123
Martens Thierry, 499
Master printers, changes of, 522
Mastery of printing, how acquired, 522
Materials early, imperfections of, 530
Matrices, as described by Trithemius, 475
Matrices of lead, 301, 303, 517
— of copper, 517
— conjoined, 303
— early method of making, 517
— early trade in, 515
— made of soft metal, 302, 475
Matrix, description of, 55
— early use of, 63
Mechanics in middle ages, 178
Medals in honor of Coster, 353, 354
Meerman Gerard, book of, 353
Memorials to Coster, 359
— — Gutenberg, 446, 447
Mendicant friars, 158
Mentel John, memorial to, 488
— — alleged invention of, 489
— — as a printer, 490
— James, 490
Mentz, revolt of burghers at, 377
— capture and sack of, 439
Methods of printing, 18, 317
Mexico, first printers of, 508
Milan, early printing at, 504
Miniaturists of middle ages, 166
Mirror-making in Germany, 391
Mirror of Salvation, 264
Mirror of the Clergy, 436
Mould, modern, description of, 57
— adjustable, notice of, 399, 518
— early, description of, 62
— of Gutenberg, 398, 447
Music, types for, 451, 516
Neglect of early printing, 444
Netherlands, block-printers of, 314, 315
— type-printers of, 281, 323, 498
— block-printing of, 252
Newspapers of old Rome, 44
— — China, 116
Nope Cune, decision of, 388
Nummeister, John, 436, 500
Nuremberg, early printing at, 495
Nuremberg, Chronicle of, 496
Offices of Cicero, 467
Order of King of France to Jenson, 465
Origines Typographicæ, 354
Ornamentation of manuscript books, 152
Painting of printed letters, 456
Palimpsests, 143
Pandects of Justinian, 286
Paper approved by the people, 187
— as made in Japan, 134
— — — in middle ages, 140
— — — in Spain, 139
— came before its time, 143
— disliked by calligraphers, 144
— earliest notices of, 137, 142
— early, badly made, 144
— great price of, 537
— linen and cotton, 138
— made of many qualities, 536
— neglected by copyists, 144, 186
— of early typographic printers, 537
— preceded printing, 41
— preferred to vellum by printers, 538
— selected for block-books, 248
— sizes of, 537
Paper-making, growth of, 141
Paper-marks not a guide to age, 310
— of unknown printer, 308
— why made, 309
Paper-mills, early notices of, 141
Paper money of China, 121
Papillon’s story of the Cunios, 129
Papyrus not fit for printing, 41
Parchment, how made, 538
Paris, reception of printing at, 466
— first printers at, 505
Paul of Prague, testimony of, 486
Peculiarities of Criminal Law, 286
Pedigree of Coster family, 361
— — — — its exposure, 363
— — — — its forgery, 364
— — — — its insufficiency, 363
Pfister Albert, our first knowledge of, 481
— — as a block-printer, 484
— — as an inventor, 484
— Sebastian, 486
Pi-Ching, an early Chinese printer, 112
Pictures came before books, 69
— general fondness for, 182, 249
Pigouchet Phillipe, of Paris, 506
Platen, smallness of, 529
Playing Cards, Chinese, 98
— — date of introduction, 99, 108
— — denounced by clergy, 100
— — early, cost of, 96, 100
— — early forms of, 104
— — early notices of, 91, 95
— — manufacture of, 89
— — of France and Italy, 96, 97
— — of Germany, 91
— — popularity of, 95
— — preceded image prints, 107
— — rudely made, 107
— — strange games of, 101
— — suggestive of printing, 106
Pliny’s notice of portraits in books, 111
Points for making register, 531
Polishing of gems taught by Gutenberg, 390
Pomerium Spirituale, 244
Pope Pius II, treatises of, 287
Presswork, early method of, 529
— alters appearance of types, 300
— as done in China, 114
— daily performance of, 115, 531
— early, in colors, 531
— early practice of, 530
— imperfections of, 529
— of block-books, 248
— of Colard Mansion, 458
— of early type printers, 530
— of Gutenberg, 412, 421, 434
— of Schœffer, 454, 462
— of unknown printer, 305
— on textile fabrics of Italy, 127
— process of, 307
Prices of manuscript books in old Rome, 43
— of medieval books, 169
— of printed books, 512
— paid for printing, 504, 505
Print-coloring, early practice of, 94
Printers, early, activity of, 511
Printers, early names for, 486
— armorial shield of, 488
— at Mentz before 1500, 493
— earliest in Germany, 493
— — — Central Europe, 493
— — — Great Britain, 507
— — — France, 505
— — — Italy, 500
— — — New World, 508
— — — Spain, etc, 507
Printing, ambiguity of the word, 17, 315
— aided by painting, 456
— by friction, 83
— — — difficulties of, 204
— Chinese method of, 115
— depends on other aids, 47
— derivation of from China, 120
— different methods of, 18
— early, in Netherlands, 314
— early prejudices against, 450, 510
— from engraved stamps, 37
— German origin of, 508
— in clay, 34
— not always economical, 190
— not generally welcomed, 510
— of Psalter of 1457, 452
— on one side, reason of, 248, 291
— on textile fabrics, 128
— permanence of the art, 541
— benefit from, 541
— waited for readers, 172, 191
— with a brush, 115
Printing Press, construction of, 528
— — Lignamine’s notice of, 530
— — operation of, 529
Printing Presses, cost of, 498
Proof-planer, use of, 84
Proof-reading, early notice of, 469
— how done, 539
Psalter of 1457, beauty of, 452
— — — colophon of, 459
— — — editions of, 460
— — — the designer of, 459
Publishers of old Rome, 43
— in Italy, 505
Punch, description of, 55
Punch-cutters were goldsmiths, 514
Punch-cutting not done by printers, 514
— importance of, 54
Punches of steel, 517
— of wood, 301
— of Gutenberg, 435
Quadrats, substitutes for, 280
— proper use of, 305
Quintilian’s notice of stencils, 36
Rationale Durandi, 460
Register, means used for making, 531
— of colors, how done, 456, 531
— — — in Psalter of, 1457 458
Register of pages, early, how done, 531
Registrum chartarum, 526
Reimboldt, testimony of, 386
Religious dissensions, 180
Ripoli Press at Florence, 503
— — materials used by, 66, 533
Rome, early printing at, 501
Rooman Gillis and Adrien, 320
Rubricated books of middle ages, 152
— — of early printers, 531
Sahspach Conrad, testimony of, 384
Sand moulds, 301, 518
Savage on the Psalter of, 1457 456
Scaliger J. J., about Horarium, 257
Schœffer Peter, as a copyist, 449
— as a judge, 471
— as a printer, 458
— as a punch-cutter, 461, 470
— as a trader, 470
— as a type-founder, 461
— as an inventor, 469, 477
— borrows a book, 468
— descendants of, 494
— false claims of, 469, 472
— memory of, neglected, 477
— pupil of Gutenberg, 450
— succeeds Gutenberg, 430
— vanity of, 469
Schœffer John, testimony of, 473
Schoepflin Daniel, 353
Schott John, claims of, 488
School books of middle ages, 187
Schools of the middle ages, 177
Schultheiss Hans, testimony of, 384
Scriptorium of monasteries, 148
Scriverius Peter, 348
Secrets of printing stolen, 332, 342
Section, definition of term, 212
Seiz and his book, 350
Senefelder Alois, the lithographer, 27
Sensenschmidt John, 495
Seven Penitential Psalms, 285
Sewing of books, 154
Sidenneger Hans, testimony of, 384
Signatures, early use of, 526
Spacing out of lines, 291, 526
Specklin Daniel, 489
Speculum Salutis, a Dutch book, 275
— — as noticed by Junius, 331
— — blocks of destroyed, 280
— — description of, 264
— — translation of, 311
— — editions of, 269
— — its workmanship, 270
— — not an experiment, 282
— — printed from types, 274
— — probably printed at Utrecht, 311
— — teachings of the book, 267
— — variable letters of, 273
— — when printed, 311
Spira John de, of Venice, 501
Spyess Wygand, 441
Stamping of single letters, 126
— on textile fabrics, 127
Stamps of Babylon and Assyria, 30
— — copyists, 125
— — Egypt, 32
— — middle ages, 38
— — Romans, 37
— — printers of textile fabrics, 127
Stationers of Paris, 160
St. Bridget, print of, 74
St. Christopher, print of, 70
Steel-plate printing, process of, 18
Steinbach Thomas, testimony of, 385
Stencil-plates of old Romans, 93
— of card-makers, 94
Stereotype moulds, 300
Stereotyping, its advantages, 24
Stick of early compositors, 523
Stocker Mydehart, testimony of, 384
Story of the Blessed Virgin, 219
Strasburg, early printing at, 490, 494
St. Thomas of Aquinas, book of, 468
Suabia, abode of early engravers, 75
Surfaces, varieties of in printing, 18
Sweinheym and Pannartz, 501
Temptations of the Devil, 245
Thomaszoon Gerrit, 361, 367
Title-page, first appearance of, 526
Tool of four pieces, mysterious, 384
— — — — not a press, 397
— — — — not types nor pages, 398
— — — — probably a mould, 399
Torquemada on Health of Soul, 287
Torresani Andrew, 503
Trade-marks of middle ages, 124
Trades early, secrecy of, 390
Transferring, by Chinese method, 112
Transferring, process of, 276
Treatise on Celebration of Mass, 436
— on Love, 287
— on Necessity of Councils, 436
— on Reason and Conscience, 437
Trial of Gutenberg at Strasburg, 380
Trial of Gutenberg at Mentz, 425
Trithemius, testimony of, 474
Two pages printed in one form, 270
Tympan of hand press, 307
Type-casting, as done in 1564, 62
— as done in 1683, 59
— modern, by machine, 58
— slowness of hand-work, 60
Type-founding, relation of Trithemius, 474
— — of Faustus, 478
— an art of slow growth, 516
— in sand moulds, 301
— as done by Didot, 302
— as done by Franklin, 303
— by novices, 324, 517
— early notices of, 435, 459
Type-making a secret art, 61
— in China, 113, 118
Type-metal, ingredients of, 66, 519
Type-mould, the key to the invention, 67
Type-mould, adjustable, 399, 519
— made by goldsmiths, 514
— of early printers, 59, 517
— of Garamond, 399
— of Gutenberg, 401
— of sand, 300
Types of wood, Junius’s description of, 339
— — — as made in Japan, 53
Types of wood, experimental, 479, 489
— — — De la Borde’s theory of, 295
— — — limitations of, 53
— — — Specklin’s description of, 489
— as made by Conrad Winters, 520
— Chinese, early forms of, 112
— — modern — —, 117
— early, cast and not cut, 298, 476
— early faces of, 515
— early speculations about, 36
— engraved, impracticable, 53, 295
— Gothic, popularity of, 516
— how made, 521
— of Jenson, 502
— made by one method only, 53
— made in sand moulds, 301
— must be accurate, 52
— not made with system, 518
— of brass, notices of, 65
— of glass, 487
— of Gutenberg, 443
— of lead, as made by Blades, 300
— — — — — — Coster, 339
— of porcelain, 112
— of Schœffer, 470
— quantity of usually cast, 521
— smallest sizes in 15th century, 518
— unknown printer, 284
— variations of form explained, 298
Typography, advantages of, 23, 26
— cheapness of method, 23
— Chinese method of, 113
— claimants of invention, 27
— depends on other aids, 47
— erroneous ideas about, 49
— is a science, 375
— not fruit of engraving, 395
— period of its invention, 27
— why it was delayed, 39
Typothetæ, arms of, 488
Uneven spacing in early printing, 451
University of Paris, 160
Unknown printer of Netherlands, 282
— — period of, 325
Unknown printer, workmanship of, 324
Utrecht, early printing of, 498
— Speculum traced to, 311
Valdarfer Christopher, 505
Van der Linde’s Haarlem Legend, 11
— — — exposure of fraud, 374
Van Eyck Hubert, 41
Veldener John, 280, 281, 498
Vellum, how made, 538
— early scarcity of, 164
— not suitable for printing, 41, 538
Venice, early printing in, 501
— famous for printing, 503
— playing cards of, 89
— relations of with China, 120
— the school of typography, 503
Verard of Paris, 506
Vindiciæ Typographicæ, 353
Vocabularium ex quo, 441
Von Bischoviszheim, testimony of, 387
Von Seckingen, testimony of, 387
Von Zabern Barbel, testimony of, 383
Weidenbach, printing at, 495
William of Saliceto, Treatise of, 287
Wimpheling, testimony of, 393
Winaricky’s book on Gutenberg, 378
Wine-flagons of Coster, 340
Witnesses on trial at Strasburg, 388
Wittig Ivo, tablet of, 447
Witty Speeches of Great Men, 286
Wonders of Rome, the block-book, 243
Wood-cuts, early, merit of, 68
— difficult to print with types, 278
— dissimilarities of, 206, 239
— early, designed by artists, 227
— later, inferiority of, 536
— liability to warp, 535
— mutilations of, 207, 219, 280
— neglected by early printers, 535
— not printed with types, 271
Wood types, impracticability of, 295
— — Enschedé’s remarks on, 297
— — experiments with, 295
Wood used by early engravers, 203
Xylography, limitations of, 26, 263
— Chinese method of, 114
— first method of, 317
— not applicable to books, 263
— not Gutenberg’s art, 396
— not practised at Haarlem, 320
Zainer Gunther, 497
Zappe Paul, the ambassador, 407
Zarot Anthony, 504
Zell Ulric, about the Donatus, 315, 256
— — as a printer, 494
[p555]
ADDITIONAL NOTES AND CORRECTIONS.
PAGE 24. In the second line of foot-note, change two-thirds to
four-ninths.
27. The exact date of the complete invention of copper-plate printing
is unfixed. Vasari says that Finiguerra’s discovery was made in 1450,
but that the Italian practice of making plate prints began about 1460.
It is obvious that the alleged discovery in 1450 of the fact that the
blacking placed in incised lines could be transferred to paper by
pressure was not the complete invention of copper-plate printing. Much
more had to be done. The earliest dated Italian print by this method is
of the year 1465. The earliest authentic German print is dated 1446.
There are others attributed to the years 1422, 1430, 1440, but they are
not accepted as genuine by Passavant. See _Peintre-Graveur_, vol. I,
pp. 192–197.
Senefelder’s first suggestion of lithography was entertained in 1796,
but his vague notions about printing from stone did not assume a
practical shape before 1798. He did not receive, and perhaps was not
entitled to, his patent before 1800.
34. The exact size of the Assyrian cylinder illustrated on this page is
seven inches high and three inches wide at each end.
64. On page 447, the date of the erection of this stone by Wittig
is put down at 1508, which is the date given by Bernard and by many
others. But Wetter, from whose book this statement was taken, knowing
that Wittig was dead in 1507, altered the date to 1507. Helbig does
not accept either date. He thinks that it should be 1504. _Notes et
dissertations_, pp. 10, 11.
65. In foot-note, change _exculptis_ to _exsculptis_.
77. I have followed De la Borde’s translation of this indulgence, which
makes the time seventeen thousand years, but Holtrop’s translation
is fourteen thousand years. The popes supposed to be associated with
Gregory in the promulgation of this indulgence were the Anti-pope
Benedict XIII at Avignon, and Pope John XXIII. Holtrop does not regard
this as a print of 1418; he places it between 1455 and 1470.
82. It is possible that engraving on wood was done in England in the
first half of the fifteenth century. Ottley, in his _Inquiry concerning
the Invention of Printing_, page 198, describes an English print of the
crucifixion, with legend in English, which he says may be as old as the
St. Christopher. This is the legend: “Seynt Gregor. with oyer [other]
popes & bysshoppes yn seer, Haue graunted of pardon XXVI. mill yeer. To
yeym yat befor yis fygur on yeir knees Devoutly say .v. pater noster
.&.v. Auees.” Weigel has given other fac-similes of early English
engraving.
96. Chatto says that Gringonneur was paid 56 sols about 1393. Passavant
says 50 sols. Lacroix says 1392, and estimates the value of 56 sols in
modern money at 180 francs.
98. In third line of second paragraph, change fifteenth to fourteenth.
104. In third line of foot-note, change printers to painters.
111. In foot-note, last line of small type, change chap. I to chap. II.
150. Change John I, 3, to John III, 1.
150. Lacroix gives the date of 1292 for the employment of the seventeen
book-binders at the University of Paris.
177. In sixth line of note, change 1435 to 1430, and the word double to
thrice.
180. In eleventh line, change 1385 to 1381.
218. The date of the termination of the Great Schism is usually put at
1447, but it was not fully ended until Pope Felix V abdicated the papal
chair in 1449, and ordered the church to submit to Nicholas V.
250. Passavant (vol. I, p. 50) says that there is in the library at
Heidelberg a copy of a xylographic edition of the Lord’s Prayer, a
block-book of ten leaves, which may be attributed to the fifteenth
century.
299. In last line but two of note, change 380 to 280.
319. Holtrop says that Bellaert’s name is first mentioned in 1485, as
it appears in the fac-simile.
378. A document has been recently discovered at Strasburg which proves
that Frielo Gensfleisch, the elder brother of John Gutenberg, was
in Strasburg in 1429. This document is the signature of Frielo to a
receipt for 26 florins due him on an annuity. See _Book Worm_ for
January, 1868.
397. It is not probable that this tool of four pieces was the press.
Ottley, who thinks that Gutenberg’s secret was not that of printing
(_Inquiry concerning Invention_, p. 41), says, “there can be no doubt
that presses of different kinds were known long before the invention
of typography” (p. 37), and that “five of the witnesses, none of
whom were partners, knew all about the press” (p. 40). It may also
be added that the repetition by different witnesses of the order to
separate the four pieces and put them in a disjointed form in the
press or on or under the press, is evidence that the four pieces did
not constitute the press nor any part of it. Nor can it be supposed
that Gutenberg had sent to his home a bulky press to have, as has been
asserted, its “joinings renewed.” This work should have been done by
Sahspach, the joiner who built it. Although I believe that Gutenberg
afterward invented the printing press, I think that the press here
mentioned was nothing more than the screw press of the carpenter—the
wooden vise or press of a workman who needed it when using a file.
A printing press would not be needed until the types were made,
which it appears were not even then ready. The fact that Gutenberg,
Dritzehen, Dünne, and Sahspach worked apart is proof that the proposed
printing office was not furnished—that the men were making tools, and
the tools were probably moulds and matrices. I have accepted Van der
Linde’s translation of _zurlossen_ as melting, for it is warranted by
many evidences that the tool of four pieces and the _formen_ were of
metal. Ottley’s translation, making _zurlossen_ mean a loosening or
unjointing, or breaking-up, with a view to renewal or reconstruction,
could also be accepted.
405. Bernard questions the accuracy of the date of the _Donatus of
1451_, but it is the belief of Fischer and of many others that it was
printed in 1451.
412. In the last line of text, insert the word not before always.
413. Compare the spacing in the _Bibles_ of Gutenberg with that of
the _Psalter of 1457_, as shown in pages 453 and 455. In Gutenberg’s
_Bibles_, there are some evidences of attempts to keep the lines even;
in the _Psalter_, the nicety of full lines or of even spacing was
disregarded.
451. Madden admits that Schœffer was a copyist at Paris, but doubts the
inference that he was a student of the University. His doubt seems to
be based on the faulty Latin of the colophon.
455. I am not entirely satisfied with the fac-simile of types on this
page. It is a copy of the fac-simile made by Falkenstein, the only one
accessible to me of the edition of 1457. It is, no doubt, a correct
representation of form and of general appearance, but the outlines of
the letters are suspiciously sharp. They do not accord in this feature
with the types shown on page 453. In Falkenstein’s fac-simile, the
ornamental work about the letter P is a dull bluish purple, so made
by printing deep blue over lines previously printed in dull red. I
have not attempted to imitate this dull purple color (of which I find
no notice save in the book of Papillon), for I believe that this use
of purple was exceptional. It was probably caused by an imperfect
cleansing of the red block, the after application of the blue and the
mixing on the block of both colors, forming a dull purple.
465. Madden doubts the genuineness of the record of the proposed
mission of Jenson to Mentz.
467. I have accepted the statement of Bernard that leads were first
used in 1465 in the _Offices_ of Cicero, but a re-examination of the
fac-simile in Sotheby’s _Typography_ (No. 90) of the _Treatise on
Reason and Conscience_ convinces me that the types of this work were
leaded. As Gutenberg abandoned printing in 1465, it is probable that
the _Treatise_ is really older than the _Offices_. If so, Gutenberg was
the first to use leads.
498. Many bibliographers regard Martens as the predecessor of John
of Westphalia, and as a graduate of one of the typographical schools
at Cologne. Holtrop thinks that Martens was the pupil of John of
Westphalia, his corrector and associate, but not his partner or
predecessor.
506. La Caille and Santander say that Gering died in 1510; Van der
Meersch says 1520.
529. The weakness of the early press is abundantly proved by the
smallness of the forms and the absence of large and black wood-cuts
in all books printed before 1800. The inability of the hand-press
(even when made of iron, as it was in 1824) is set forth by Johnson
in his _Typographia_, vol. II, p. 548. It is there stated that an
engraver who had been at work for three years on a wood-cut 11-1/2 by
15 inches, was dismayed by the discovery, after a fair trial, that his
block was too large to be properly printed on any variety of English
press then in common use. The Clymer press, just introduced, was then
tested. By lengthening the bar, and getting two men to pull, a few fair
impressions were obtained, but the block soon broke under pressure.
This wood-cut was only about half the size of the two-page cuts which
are now regularly and easily printed for the popular illustrated papers
on machines at the rate of 1,000 an hour.
530. The most admirable feature of the best early printing is its
simplicity. The types were uncouth, but they were made with single
purpose, to be easily read, not to show the skill of the punch-cutter.
This object would have been fully accomplished if the compositor
had refrained from abbreviations and had spaced his words with
intelligence. The pressman did his part of the work fairly, and
honestly impressed the types on the paper with unexceptionable firmness
and solidity. The readable method of doing presswork is, unfortunately,
out of fashion. A perverted taste requires the modern printer to use
thin types, dry glossy paper, as little ink and as weak an impression
as is consistent with passable legibility. This general fondness for
delicacy is not at all favorable to the production of readable books.
NOTES:
[1] The _Daily Graphic_ of New York, may be offered as an exception to
this assertion, but this newspaper really confirms its correctness.
It is the illustrated side only of this paper which is done by
lithography. The side which gives it value as a newspaper is printed
with ordinary printing types, and this result could be accomplished by
no other method.
[2] This body of Canon type occupies about two-thirds of an American
square inch. A square inch of the Small-pica type, in which this text
is composed, contains about 44 ems to the square inch; a square inch
of Agate, or of small advertising type, contains 177 ems to the square
inch. There are types so small that 447 ems can be put in a square inch.
[3] The word xylography is little used by printers or engravers,
with whom the art of making engravings in relief is usually known
as engraving on wood. It is most frequently used by bibliographers
to distinguish early printed work: books printed from types are now
defined as typographic, and those printed from engraved blocks as
xylographic.
[4] The accompanying translation of a tablet taken from the record room
of the second Assurbanipal (according to some original scholars, the
Sardanapalus of the Greeks), king of Assyria, B. C. 667, will give an
idea of one purpose for which the impressions were made:
Assurbanipal, the great king, the powerful king, king of nations, king
of Assyria, son of Esarhaddon, king of Assyria, son of Sennacherib,
king of Assyria; according to the documents and old tablets of
Assyria, and Sumri and Akkadi, this tablet in the collection of
tablets I wrote, I studied, I explained, and for the inspection of my
kingdom within my palace I placed. Whoever my written records defaces,
and his own records shall write, may Nabu all the written tablets of
his records deface.
Mr. Smith of the British Museum is translating some of these tablets.
[5] Balbus, the stoic, in replying to Vellejus, the epicurean, opposes
his atheistical argument that the world was made by chance, and says:
He who fancies that a number of solid and invisible bodies could be
kept together by weight [gravitation?], and that a world full of order
and beauty could be formed by their accidental juxtaposition—from such
a man I cannot understand why he should not also believe that if he
threw together, pell-mell, a great number of the twenty-one letters,
either of gold or of some other material, the _Annals of Ennius_ could
be legibly put together from the forms scattered on the ground. _De
Natura Deorum_, book II, chap. 20.
[6] Jackson and Chatto, _Treatise on Wood Engraving_, p. 12.
[7] The emperor Justin (518–527) could not write, and was obliged to
sign state papers with a stencil.
[8] When Latin ceased to be a living language, the whole treasury of
knowledge was locked up from the eyes of the people. The few who might
have imbibed a taste for literature, if books had been accessible to
them, were reduced to abandon pursuits that could only be cultivated
through a kind of education not easily within their reach. Schools
confined to cathedrals and monasteries, and exclusively designed for
the purposes of religion, afforded no encouragement or opportunities to
the laity. Hallam, _Middle Ages_.
[9] Hallam, _Middle Ages_, vol. III, pp. 286, 287.
[10] These observations apply only to the types used for the text
letters of books and newspapers. The large types made for the display
lines of posters are cut on wood, but these types of wood are used only
for printing single lines; they are not combined with the compactness
of book types, and do not require their precision of body. The wood
types of Japan are, probably, the smallest wood types in practical
use; but they are much larger than our book types; they are printed
in smaller pages; they are not obliged to stand truly in line, nor
to conform to the standards of European and American printers. The
cheapness of types which have been cast, as compared with letters which
have been engraved, has been explained on page 23 of this work.
[11] The characters D, E, 1 are the private reference marks of the
type-founder. In this position they cannot be reproduced on the cast
type.
[12] The superfluous metal which adheres to the cast type, and is
afterward broken off, is also called the Jet. The finishing of the
types is comparatively simple work which does not require explanation.
[13] _Mechanick Exercises, or the Doctrine of Handy-Works, applied to
the Art of Printing._ By Joseph Moxon, Member of the Royal Society, and
Hydrographer to the King, etc. London, 1683.
[14] _The Book of Trades_ was popular. Two editions in Latin verse
were published, one in 1568, and another in 1574, with descriptions by
Hartmann Schopper. Chatto says:
This is, perhaps, the most curious and interesting series of cuts,
exhibiting the various ranks and employments of men, that ever was
published. Among the higher orders . . . . . . are the Pope, Emperor,
King, Princes, Nobles, Priests and Lawyers; while almost every
branch of labor or trade then known in Germany, from agriculture to
pin-making, has its representative. There are also not a few which
it would be difficult to reduce to any distinct class, as they are
neither trades nor honest professions. Of these heteroclytes is
the _Meretricum procurator_, or, as Captain Dugald Dalgetty says,
the captain of the queans. Jackson and Chatto, _A Treatise on Wood
Engraving_, p. 409.
Jost Amman was one of the many famous German designers on wood. The
publishers of Nuremberg and Frankfort esteemed his ability highly and
gave him constant employment.
[15] The text of the _Speculum Durandi_, the book of 1473, is
_exculptis ære litteris_; the text of the _Præceptorum Nideri_,
the book of 1476, is _litteris exculptis artificiali certe conatu
ex ære_. The language is plain and cannot be construed to mean cut
types. When these books were printed, the arts of typography and
copper-plate printing were new and had not yet received distinctive
names. The reading public knew nothing of the theory or practice of
either process, and confounded the productions of one art with those
of the other. The early printers had to define the respective arts
as they best could, with words made from Latin. A close examination
of the words selected by Husner will show their propriety. The word
_exculptis_, sculptured, or cut out in high relief, is here used
in contradistinction to _inculptis_, sculptured in, or cut in, as
in an engraving on copper-plate. It defines typographic work from
copper-plate printing. The phrase _artificiali certe conatu ex ære_,
means something more than skillful engraving; it suggests the use
of mechanism, and of a beginning of the work in brass, which can be
clearly understood only by construing _ex ære_, from or in a brass
mould. The phrase here translated _in_ brass has been rendered _of_
brass, but the language will not bear this construction. The phrase _ex
ære_, in, or out of, or from brass, was frequently used by many early
printers. I have rarely met the form _æris_, of brass. To represent
that early types were of brass is as much a violation of history as it
is of grammar.
[16] This book was edited and republished in the form of an octavo
pamphlet of fifty-six pages, by Signor P. Vincenzo Fineschi, at
Florence, in 1781. The equivalent in American currency of the Tuscan
lira is calculated from a formula given with great minuteness by Blades
in his _Life and Typography of William Caxton_, vol. II. p. xx.
[17] Heineken, _Idée générale d’une collection complette d’estampesavec
une dissertation_, etc., p. 250.
According to the legend, it was the occupation of Saint Christopher
to carry people across the stream on the banks of which he lived. He
is accordingly represented as a man of gigantic stature and strength.
One evening a child presented himself to be carried over the stream.
At first his weight was what might be expected from his infant years;
but presently it began to increase, and kept increasing, until the
ferryman staggered under his burden. Then the child said, “Wonder not,
my friend; I am Jesus, and you have the weight of the sins of the whole
world on your back.” St. Christopher was thus regarded as a symbol of
the church.
[18] The Suabia of the fifteenth century was separated by the Rhine
from Switzerland and France on the south and west; its eastern boundary
was Bavaria; its northern boundary, Franconia and the Palatinate of the
Rhine.
[19] As these three copies have never been compared side by side, it
has not been proven that they are impressions from the same block. The
copy described on a preceding page has some peculiarities not found in
the others.
[20] A book printed at Delft in 1480, says that when St. Gregory was
pope, he celebrated mass in the church _Porta Crucis_. As he was
consecrating the bread and wine, Christ appeared to him as represented
in the engraving, with all the accessories to his passion. Robert of
Cologne, who wrote a treatise on indulgences, published at Zutphen
in 1518, adds, that Pope Gregory kindly granted 14,000 years of
indulgence; that Pope Nicholas V doubled them; that Pope Calixtus,
after requiring the repetition five times of the prayers, again doubled
the years of indulgence; that Pope Innocent VIII, after adding seven
more prayers, two other prayers, and two more of the _Pater Noster_
and the _Ave Maria_, again doubled the length of indulgence—so that
the sum total amounted to at least 70,000 years: according to other
computations, to 92,000 years, or 112,000 years. Holtrop, _Monuments
typographiques_, p. 13. There is but one copy of this print, which
recently belonged to the collection of Theodor O. Weigel of Leipsic,
who published a fac-simile of it in colors, in his great work, _The
Infancy of Printing_, plate 113, vol. I.
[21] Wetter says that all letters of indulgence for thousands of years
are spurious; that they were made by monks and ignorant traveling
priests for no other purpose than to allure simple people to church.
[22] Sweinheym and Pannartz, who were invited, in 1464, to establish
a printing office in the monastery of Subiaco near Rome, were the
first printers connected with any ecclesiastical institution. It may
be remarked, that they did not thrive under clerical favor, for they
soon found it expedient to remove to the city of Rome, where they were
equally unfortunate in their efforts to find purchasers for their books.
[23] I have used the translation as I find it in Ottley’s _Inquiry into
the Origin and Early History of Engraving_, vol. 1, p. 47. The original
is given by Temanza, _Lettere Pittoriche_, vol. v, p. 321. Temanza
found this decree in an old book of regulations which belonged to a
fraternity of Venetian printers.
[24] Weigel, in his _Infancy of Printing_, plate 10, presents the
fac-simile of an old printed altar-piece, about eight inches wide and
twenty inches long, which contains a representation of the Virgin and
the infant Christ. The engraving is in outline only. The interior was
colored by stencils, like the image prints.
[25] Temanza had some old Venetian playing cards of unknown date,
which he believed were made at or about the time of the publication of
this decree. They were of large size, on thick paper, and elaborately
decorated with gold and colors. The early Venetian playing cards were,
probably, more expensively made, and were offered at higher prices
than the German cards. In the field of art and ornament, and even in
the trades which called for a higher degree of skill, the Venetians
surpassed all their competitors. This pre-eminence was maintained many
years after the invention of typography. The earlier books of Venice
are famous for the whiteness of their paper and the beauty of their
types, as well as for admirable presswork and solid bindings.
[26] Heineken, _Idée générale_, page 245. He does not give the date.
The record from which he quotes, the Red Book of Ulm, so called because
the initials were in that color, ends with the year 1474.
[27] Singer’s _Researches into the History of Playing Cards_. This book
abounds in curious information and has many valuable fac-similes.
[28] Breitkopf says that the stencil painting of prints was done with
great rapidity by the medieval colorist. He alludes to an old German
saying of “painting the twelve apostles with one stroke,” which, no
doubt, refers to the expeditious painting of a once popular image
print, of which there is now no fragment in existence.
[29] Some antiquarians say that this print is a representation of Amman.
[30] Didot, _Essai sur la typographie_, p. 564.
[31] Bibliophile Jacob, _Curiosités de l’histoire des arts_, etc., p.
48.
[32] One of the cards bears the name of the maker, F. Clerc. The
costumes of the figures are French, and of the fashion of the court
of Charles VII. One of the queens is a rude copy of the well known
portrait of the queen Marie of Anjou; another queen is from an
authentic portrait of the king’s mistress, Gérarde Cassinel. The robe
of one of the kings is plentifully sprinkled with the _fleur-de-lis_;
the figure of another king is that of a hairy savage with a torch in
his hand. These singular cards illustrate a frightful accident which
made a profound impression on the people of France. To divert the
half-crazed king Charles VI, a masquerade was planned for a ball given
by Queen Blanche, on the 29th of January, 1392, in which masquerade the
king and five of the gentlemen of the court took the parts of savages.
The costumes were made by encasing the actors in tight-fitting linen
garments, covered with warm pitch and tow. In this uncouth attire, and
linked together with clanking chains, they danced in the ball-room
to the amusement of the men and the terror of the ladies. Wishing to
discover one of the maskers, the Duke of Orleans snatched a torch from
the hand of a servant, and thrust it too near an unhappy masker’s face.
In a moment he was covered with a blaze which quickly spread to his
fellows. The king was rescued in time, but four of the masqueraders
were burned to death.
[33] Breitkopf, _Versuch den Ursprung der Spielkarten_, p. 9, note g.
The fac-similes of playing cards in this book are exceedingly grotesque.
[34] Cards are not mentioned in a specification of popular games in
the Stadtholdt Book of Augsburg for the year 1274. The ordinances
of the town of Nuremberg for the period between the years 1286 and
1299 prohibit gambling, but they do not mention cards. For the period
between 1380 and 1384, they are both mentioned and permitted.
[35] In Singer’s _Researches into the History of Playing Cards_ may be
found many fac-similes of early Hindostanee cards, some of which, we
are told, were engraved on plates of ivory. These fac-similes show that
the primitive game was a modification of the old Indian game of chess.
[36] The industry of Jost Amman was as remarkable as his skill. The old
historian of early printers, Sandraart, says, on the authority of his
pupil George Keller, that during the four years in which Keller lived
with him, Amman produced designs enough to load a wagon.
[37] The ordinances of Nuremberg between the years 1380 and 1384
permitted gambling and betting, but in moderation: “Always excepting
horse-racing, shooting with cross-bows, _cards_, shovel boards,
tric-trac and bowls, at which a man may bet from two pence to a groat.”
Von Murr, as quoted by Chatto, _Treatise on Wood Engraving_, p. 42.
[38] Having visited many convents in Franconia, Suabia, Bavaria, and
the Austrian States, I everywhere discovered in their libraries many
image prints engraved on wood and pasted either in the beginning or the
end of old volumes of the fifteenth century. These facts taken together
confirm me in the opinion that the next step of the engraver on wood,
after playing cards, was the engraving of figures of saints, which,
distributed and lost among the laity, were carefully preserved by the
monks, who pasted them on the inner covers of the books with which
they furnished their libraries. After the engravers had succeeded in
making prints of saints, they found it very easy to engrave historical
subjects, with explanations in words. Heineken, _Idée générale_, etc.,
p. 251.
[39] Wood-cuts of sacred subjects were known to the common people
of Suabia, and the adjacent districts, by the name of _Halgen_ or
_Halglein_, saints or little saints, a word which, in course of
time, was also applied to prints of all kinds. In France also, the
earliest prints were known as _dominos_, or lords, a word which was
intended to convey the same meaning. The maker of prints was known as
a _dominotier_, whether he made profane cards or pious images. In time
the word so far declined from its first meaning that it was applied not
only to printers of cards and images, but to the makers of fancifully
colored wall-papers. _Versuch der Ursprung der Spielkarten_, etc., vol.
II, p. 174.
[40] This method is still in use in many parts of the East Indies.
A dried leaf is written on with a pointed steel which scratches the
smooth surface. A bit of charcoal is then rubbed over the leaf; the
places scratched are filled with atoms of charcoal, which make the
writing as legible as it would have been if written with fluid ink.
[41] In support of this opinion he quotes the following from Pliny:
It would be improper to omit the notice of a new invention. We have
been accustomed to preserve in our libraries, in gold, silver, or
bronze, the personages whose immortal spirits speak to us from
distances of leagues and centuries. We create statues of those who are
no longer living. Our regrets invest them with features which have not
been given to us by tradition, as, for example, is shown in the bust
of Homer. The idea of making a collection of these portraits is due
to Asinius Pollio, who was the first to throw open his library, and
to make these men of genius the property of the public. That the love
for portraits has always existed is sufficiently proven by Atticus,
the friend of Cicero, who published a book on the subject, and also by
Marcus Varro, who had the enlarged idea of inserting in his numerous
books not only the names, but, by the aid of a certain invention,
the images of seven hundred illustrious persons. Varro wished to
save their features from oblivion, so that the length of centuries
would not prevail against them. As the inventor of a benefit which
will fill even the gods with jealousy, he has clothed these persons
with immortality. He has made them known over the wide world, so that
everywhere one can see them as if they were present. Pliny, book XXXV,
chap. I.
This invention has never been clearly explained. A new invention, which
exhibited in books the features of seven hundred men, which multiplied
them so that they were known over the wide world, and preserved them
for posterity, should have been the invention of printing. Pliny speaks
of it as a well-known fact, but no other writer of his age makes any
mention of it. Why did not Pliny describe the new art instead of
praising it?
[42] Didot, _Essai sur la typographie_, p. 563.
[43] American engravers on wood use box which has been cut across the
fibres in flat disks, ninety-two hundredths of an inch thick. Wood
so cut, with its fibres like columns, perpendicular to the touch of
the graver and to the line of impression, can be engraved with more
delicacy, and, for printing, has more strength than wood cut in line
with the fibres.
[44] The buff-tinted wrappers around fire-crackers and Chinese silks
will fairly represent the quality of the paper used for Chinese books.
[45] I have before me a thick Chinese pamphlet which is bound in
this style. In the essential points of strength, flexibility and
convenience, this binding is much superior to that of American or
European sewed pamphlets. The most famous bookbinder would be justly
proud of the combination of firmness and elasticity in the sewing.
[46] To this description of Chinese typography is usually added the
untrue statement that the types were made of copper. Why the Jesuit
missionaries, who were amateurs in type-founding, should add to their
labors by the use of such a troublesome and slowly melted metal as
copper, when European type-founders preferred lead, tin and antimony,
cannot be explained. I cannot find a copy of the original statement,
which was, no doubt, in Latin. The phrase, types of copper, is,
probably, an incorrect translation, a repetition of the error explained
in a note on page 65 of this book. The missionaries intended to say,
and no doubt did say, that they made types _in_ copper, or in copper
matrices.
[47] _American Encyclopædia of Printing_, p. 104.
[48] Polo was more deeply interested in the simplicity of the financial
method by which the Emperor filled his impoverished treasury.
He transferred the bark of the mulberry-tree into something resembling
sheets of paper, and these into money, which cost him nothing at all:
so that you might say he had the secret of alchemy to perfection. And
these pieces of paper he made to pass current universally over all his
kingdoms and provinces and territories, and whithersoever his power
and sovereignty extended. And nobody, however important he thought
himself, durst refuse them on pain of death. _The Book of Ser Marco
Polo, the Venetian._ Translated and edited by Henry Vale, London, 1871.
With all his power, the Great Khan met the fate which comes to every
financier who tries to fill up a depleted treasury by the issue of
paper money. In a very short time the notes were worth but one-half of
their original value. But the Emperor was equal to the emergency: when
the notes fell to one-fifth of the nominal value, he called them in,
and exchanged five old for one new note of the same denomination.
[49] Papillon, _Traité historique et pratique de la gravure en bois_,
vol. I, pp. 76, 77. Papillon does not name this student. Lanzi
describes him as the ecclesiastic Padre della Valla. Passavant (_Le
peintre-graveur_, p. 18) says that the initials of like character which
have been found in German manuscript books of the twelfth century, were
printed.
[50]. . . If he was a wool-stapler, he stamped it on his packs; or if a
fish-curer, it was branded on the end of his casks. If he built himself
a new house, his mark was frequently placed between his initials over
the principal doorway, or over the fireplace of the hall; if he made a
gift to a church or a chapel, his mark was emblazoned on the windows,
beside the knight’s or the nobleman’s shield of arms; and when he died,
his mark was cut upon his tomb. Jackson and Chatto, _Treatise on Wood
Engraving_, pp. 17, 18.
[51] The letters in the most meritorious manuscript books of the middle
ages were not made with running hand, closely connected, like the
letters of modern penmanship. The form of writing most in fashion was
a spurred or pointed Gothic of remarkable blackness. Each letter was
separate, carefully drawn, angled and painted, by many strokes of the
reed.
[52] The text of the _Codex_ is a translation of the four Gospels,
written in the Gothic character, by Ulphilas, bishop of the Goths,
about the year 370. This book, which is supposed to have been made
not later than the sixth century, was discovered in the year 1587,
in an abbey in Westphalia, and was taken to Prague. When that city
was captured by the Swedes in 1648, the book was sent as one of the
trophies of war to Queen Christina. It has ever since been regarded as
a great curiosity.
[53] Moorish authors tell us that in the days of the last Norman kings
of Sicily, ten thousand silk looms were in active operation in Palermo;
but this statement is an oriental exaggeration of a fact that required
no embellishment. Others say that Jewish and Italian traders carried
these silks to Italy, Germany, and the North of Europe. The earliest
silk-weavers of Palermo were the captured inhabitants of Greece who had
been taken there in 1147.
[54] Pliny says that the colors were produced by dyeing, but the
garments described by Herodotus could not have been made by this
process. We have to infer that they used some form of impression.
Breitkopf tells us that the colored cloths of the Egyptians were made
by printing. His conclusions seem reasonable when we consider how
largely engraved stamps were used by the Egyptians for printing upon
clay, and how short was the step from printing on clay to printing on
cloth. The art of staining, printing or stenciling cloth with bright
colors by different processes, has been practised in Hindostan from
a very early period. The antiquity of the Indian manufacture may be
inferred from the European adoption of Indian names. The English word
_chintz_, and its German synonym _zitz_, are derived from a Hindostanee
word that means both a colored printed cloth and a flower. The word
_calico_ is from Calicut, the town on the Malabar coast from which
calico was first exported to Europe.
[55] Papillon, _Traité historique et pratique de la gravure en bois_,
vol. I, p. 89. His description is very prolix and full of irrelevant
matter. I have made use of the translation of Ottley, but have abridged
it.
[56] This version of the origin of block-printing in Europe has been
accepted by many authors, who find in it, or profess to find in it,
the evidence that printing was derived from China and was first used
in Italy. The wisest judgment passed upon its merits is that of Lanzi,
who merely recites the legend, and concludes that “it is safest to say
nothing about it.” But Humphreys (_History of the Art of Printing_,
second issue, page 209) submits the substance of a letter from a
Russian book-collector, who asserts that, in 1861, he had seen, in the
possession of a Mr. Herdegen of Nuremberg, seven prints which agreed
precisely with those described by Papillon. I find no other description
of these prints.
[57] Du Halde, as quoted by Ottley in his _Inquiry into the Origin of
Engraving_, p. 9. There is another version placing the date at 170 B. C.
[58] The artist was not restricted by the scant space that allowed him
to show only the leg of the pulp-beater on the first page. He does
this, and then, with an amusing unconsciousness of its impropriety,
proceeds to draw the head and body on the following page, which, in the
Japanese book from which this was taken, is the other side of the leaf.
[59] Proteaux, _Practical Guide for the Manufacture of Paper_, Paine’s
translation, p. 17. He does not name his authority for fixing the date
in the fifth century, but it is not at all improbable that a card-like
paper was then made for some other purpose than that of writing.
[60] The phrase _ex rasuris veterum pannorum_, here translated as the
scrapings of old rags, has been construed by many authors as linen
paper, in opposition to the “compacted refuse material,” which is
supposed to be cotton, or, at least, a mixture of cotton and cordage.
[61] See _The American Encyclopedia of Printing_, p. 329, for
engravings of microscopic enlargements of some of the fibres used for
paper.
[62] Sismondi, _Literature of the South of Europe_, chap. 2.
[63] The jealousy with which trades were then guarded is illustrated
by the policy of Stromer. He obliged all his workmen to take an oath
that they would not reveal the process, nor practise it on their own
account. He had two rollers and eighteen stampers, and was about to
put in another roller, when he was opposed by his Italian workmen, who
probably thought that this extension of the works would give him a
monopoly, and would deprive them of all opportunity of obtaining work
from any rival manufacturer. The mutineers were brought before the
magistrates and sent to prison. They afterward submitted and returned
to work, but were allowed to renounce their oath of obligation.
[64] Paper, whenever or wherever invented, was very sparingly used, and
especially in manuscript books, among the French, Germans or English,
or linen paper even among the Italians, until near the close of the
fourteenth century. Upon the study of the sciences it could as yet have
had very little effect. The vast importance of the invention was just
beginning to be discovered. It is to be added that the earliest linen
paper was of very good manufacture, strong and handsome, though perhaps
too much like card for general convenience. _Literature of Europe in
the Middle Ages_, chap. I, sec. 65.
[65] Lewis Beaumont, an illiterate French nobleman, made bishop
of Durham in 1330, was so inexpert at reading, that he could not
read the bulls written for his people at his consecration. The word
_metropoliticæ_ occurred: the bishop paused, tried in vain to repeat
it, and at last said, “Let us suppose that read.” Then he came to the
word _ænigmate_, before which he stopped in a fine wrath, and said,
“By St. Lewis, he was no gentleman who wrote this stuff.”. . . . At an
entertainment given at Rome, during the same century, by the bishop of
Murray, the papal legate from Scotland, the bishop so blundered in his
Latin when he was saying grace, that his holiness and the cardinals
could not refrain from laughing. The disconcerted bishop testily
concluded in Scotch-English, by wishing “all the false carles to the
devil,” to which the company, who did not understand the dialect,
unwittingly responded, Amen.
[66] At a period when the fine arts may be said to have been almost
extinct in Italy and in other parts of the Continent, namely, from
the fifth to the end of the eighth century, a style of art had been
established and cultivated in Ireland absolutely distinct from that
of all other parts of the civilized world. In the sixth and seventh
centuries the art of ornamenting manuscripts of the sacred scriptures,
and more especially of the gospels, had attained a perfection in
Ireland almost marvelous. Westwood, _Palæographia Sacra Pictoria_, Book
of Kells, page 1. Westwood further says, that in delicacy of handling,
and minute but faultless execution, the whole range of palæography
offers nothing that can be compared to these early Irish manuscripts,
and those that were produced by their pupils in England. Wyatt, in
a curt description of the famous Book of Kells, says that he tried
to make a copy of some of its ornaments, but broke down in despair.
“In one space of about a quarter of an inch superficial, he counted,
with a magnifying glass, no less than one hundred and fifty-eight
interlacements of a very slender ribbon pattern, formed of white
lines, edged by black ones, upon a black ground.” In this book, which
he studied for hours, he never detected a false line or an irregular
interlacement. Giraldus Cambrensis, a learned Welsh ecclesiastic of
the twelfth century, who had carefully examined some of the Irish
manuscripts at Kildare, says that the writer of this Book of Kells made
the drawings from designs furnished by angels through the intercession
of St. Bridget. Timms and Wyatt, _Art of Illumination_, p. 14.
[67] The text as it now appears in authorized copies of the Vulgate is:
_Erat autem homo ex Pharisæis, Nicodemus nomine, princeps Judæorum. Hic
venit ad Jesum nocte, et dixit ei._ John 1, 3.
[68] Petrarch’s detestation of pointed letters and their admirers is
amusing. After complaining of the difficulty he met in getting a fair
copy of his writings, he commends the workmanship of a copyist to whom
he applied, a penman who wrote Roman letters with great neatness.
His writing is not labored and tortured. It is suitable for our age,
and, indeed, for all ages. Young people, always giddy, admirers of
frivolity, despisers of useful things, have adopted the fashion
of writing in bristling and undecipherable letters, of which
accomplishment they are very proud. To me, these medleys and jumbles
of angled letters, riding one on another, make nothing but a mess of
confusion which the writer himself must read with difficulty. Whoever
buys work of this character, buys not a book, but an unreadable farrago
of letters.
[69] These boards were sometimes paneled from the inside of the cover.
Scaliger tells us that his grandmother had a printed psalter, the
cover of which was two fingers thick, containing in an interior panel
a silver crucifix. Hansard says that he had seen an old book which
contained in a similar recess a human toe, obviously a sacred relic of
value.
[70] This is one of the finest existing specimens of antique
bookbinding in the National Library at Paris. It is a work of the
eleventh century, and encases a book of prayers in a mass of gold,
jewels and enamels. The central object is sunk like a framed picture,
and represents the Crucifixion, the Virgin and St. John on each side
of the cross, and above it the veiled busts of Apollo and Diana; thus
exhibiting the influence of the older Byzantine school, which is,
indeed, visible throughout the entire design. This subject is executed
on a thin sheet of gold, beaten up from behind into high relief, and
chased upon its surface. A rich frame of jeweled ornament surrounds
this object, portions of the decoration being further enriched with
colored enamels; the angles are filled in with enameled emblems of the
evangelists; the ground of the whole design enriched by threads and
foliations of delicate gold wire. Chambers, _Book of Days_.
[71] Wickliffe says that, in 1380, there were in England many “unable
curates that kunnen not the ten commandments, ne read their sauter, ne
understand a verse of it.” The author of the _Plowman’s Tale_ accuses
the clergy of faults worse than that of ignorance.
[72] Boccaccio, one of the enthusiasts of the fourteenth century in the
labor of collecting the forgotten manuscripts of classical authors,
has told the following characteristic story about the neglect of
libraries and the abuse of books by the constituted conservators of
literature. When traveling in Apulia, Boccaccio was induced to visit
the convent of Mount Cassino and its then celebrated library. He
respectfully addressed a monk who seemed the most approachable, begging
that he would open to him the library. But the monk, pointing to a
high staircase, said, in a harsh voice, “Go up; the library is open.”
Ascending the staircase with gladness, Boccaccio came to a hall, to
which there was neither door nor bar to protect the treasures of the
library. What was his astonishment when he saw that the windows were
obstructed with plants which had germinated in the crevices, and that
all the books and all the shelves were thickly covered with dust. With
still greater astonishment, he took up book after book, and discovered
that in a large number of classical manuscripts entire sections had
been torn out. Other books had their broad, white margins cut away to
the edges of the text. Full of grief, and with eyes filled with tears,
at this sad spectacle of the destruction of the works of wise and
famous men, he descended the staircase. Meeting a monk in a cloister,
he asked why the books were so mutilated. The monk answered, “This is
the work of some of the monks: to earn a few sous, they tear out the
leaves and make little psalters, which they sell to the children. With
the white margins they make mass-books, which they sell to the women.”
Benvenuto da Immola, as quoted by Didot, _Essai sur la typographie_, p.
567.
[73] The word stationer which has been adopted in the English language
has lost its first meaning in the French. It is here used to define a
trader who sold books and all kinds of writing materials in a station,
shop or store, in contradistinction to a class of peddlers or clerks
who had no store or place of business, but who acted as couriers or
agents between the buyer and maker.
[74] The prices allowed to stationers in 1303 for the use of their
copies seem pitiably small. A treatise on the _Gospel of Matthew_, 37
pages, was priced at 1 sol; _Gospel of Mark_, 20 pages, at 17 deniers;
_St. Thomas on Metaphysics_, 53 pages, at 3 sols; a treatise on _Canon
Law_, 120 pages, at 7 sols; _St. Thomas on the Soul_, 19 pages, at 13
deniers.
[75] If the book was objectionable, it was burned and the author was
imprisoned. According to the Roman law, the condemnation of death
attached not only to the author and buyer of a proscribed book, but to
him who chanced to find it and did not burn it. In 1328, Pope John XXII
condemned two authors who had written a book in eight chapters, full
of grievous heresies—for they had undertaken to prove that the Emperor
Louis of Bavaria had the right to discipline, install or depose the
pope at his own pleasure, and that all the property of the church was
held by it through the sufferance of the Emperor. Lacroix, _Histoire de
l’imprimerie_, p. 26.
[76] Erasmus, caustically, but truthfully, said of this huge book, “No
man can carry it about with him, nor even get it in his head.”
[77] The National Library at Paris possesses two manuscript Bibles, of
which one volume contains 5,122 pictures. Each picture is explained
by two lines, one in Latin and one in French; each line is decorated
by an initial and a finial in gold and bright colors. If the cost of
each picture with its lines be estimated at sixteen francs (Didot’s
valuation), the value of this book would be 82,000 francs, exclusive of
the cost of parchment, binding and copying. By the same estimate, the
value of the second volume would be 50,000 francs. Didot pertinently
asks the question: Where can we find, in the printed work of our day,
an equal prodigality in illustration? _Essai sur la typographie_, p.
715.
[78] Abbreviations which deformed written language to such an extent
that it is almost undecipherable to modern readers, were once esteemed
a positive merit. The habit of making them was continued after printing
was invented. In 1475, a printer of Lubec said, in commendation of one
of his own books, that he had made free use of abbreviations, to get
the whole work in one volume instead of two—a procedure, he thought,
that deserved special praise, for he said that the contractions made
the book more readable. The modern reader will be of a different
opinion. The _Logic of Ockham_, in folio, printed at Paris in 1488, by
Clos-Bruneau, contains, among other abbreviations, this bewildering
passage:
(The text as printed.)
‹f›Sic hic e fal sm qd ad simplr a e pducible a Deo g a et silr hic a
n g a n e pducible a Do.‹/f›
(With words in full.)
Sicut hic est fallacia secundum quid ad simpliciter. A est producibile
a Deo. Ergo A est. Et similiter hic. A non est. Ergo A non est
producibile a Deo.
In 1498, John Petit, of Paris, published a dictionary which professed
to be _A Guide to the Reading of Abbreviations_. It was not published
too soon, for the practice of making contractions had increased to such
an extent that books with abbreviations were legible only to experts.
[79] From a catalogue still extant, it appears that this library was
composed chiefly of romances, legends, histories, and treatises on
astrology, geometry and chiromancy. It was then valued at 2,223 French
livres, rather more than the same number of pounds sterling. At this
time, the price of a cow was about eight shillings, and of a horse
about twenty shillings.—It is difficult to ascertain the real value of
the money of the middle ages. Coins were frequently clipped to light
weight by knavish traders, and were oftener debased at the mint when
the royal treasury was low. Sellers everywhere knew that the value of
a coin was not in its stamp, but in its quantity of silver, and they
altered prices to meet the altered value of coin. But even in its
most debased form, the silver coin of the middle ages had a very high
purchasing capacity.
[80] He has given an extract from an ecclesiastical account book in
which are found the items of expense for the making, binding, and
presentation of the manuscript book _Royal Chants_ to Princess Louise
of Savoy.
To Jacques Plastel, for sketching the designs for forty-eight pictures,
45 livres; to Jehan Pichou, illuminator, for coloring the designs, 80
livres; to workmen of Jehan Pichou, 50 sols, and for _vin du marché_
(in colloquial English, _treating_ or drink money) with illuminator
Pichou, 24 sols; to Jean de Béguines, priest, for engraving the
ballads, 12 livres; to Guy-le-Flamenc, for illuminating the large
initial letters, 13 livres, 3 sols; for vellum, 3 livres, 12 sols;
for the binding, expenses of presentation to Louise of Savoy, and the
journey to Amboise, 68 livres, 8 sols. Sum total, 366 livres. Lacroix,
_Histoire de l’imprimerie_, p. 47.
[81] Stow says that a Bible “fairly written” was sold in 1274, in
England, for 50 marks, equal to about 33 pounds. At this time a
laborer’s wages were 1-1/2d. per day, and a sheep could be had for a
shilling.—Roger Bacon, who died in 1292, said that he had spent more
than 2,000 pounds for books. At this time the annual income of an
English curate was £3 6s. 8d.—In 1305, the priory of Bolton gave 30
shillings for _The Book of Sentences_, by Peter Lombard. Hallam says
that the accounts of the priory show that the jolly monks bought but
three books in forty years. He estimates the equivalent in modern money
of this 30 shillings at near 40 pounds.—_The Mirror of History_, a work
in four volumes, was sold at Paris in 1332, with great formalities,
for 40 livres of Paris.—In 1357, _The Scholastic History_ was sold to
the Earl of Salisbury for 100 marks, or about 67 pounds. At this time
the pay of the king’s surgeon was fixed at £5 13s. 4d. per annum and a
shilling a day besides.—Wickliffe’s translation of the _New Testament_
was sold in 1380 for 4 marks and 40 pence.—Pierre Plaont bequeathed, in
1415, to the regents of the University of Paris, a big quarto Bible,
which he said was worth 15 pounds. Chevillier says that a printed Bible
of the same size in the seventeenth century could be had for 6 francs.
[82] The horn-book was the primer of our ancestors, established by
common use. It consisted of a single leaf, containing on one side
the alphabet, large and small, in black letter or in Roman, with,
perhaps, a small regiment of monosyllables, and the words of the Lord’s
Prayer. This leaf was usually set in a frame of wood, with a slice of
diaphanous horn in front—hence the name horn-book. Generally, there
was a handle to hold it by, and this handle had usually a hole for a
string, whereby the horn-book was slung to the girdle of the scholar.
It was frequently noticed by early chroniclers. Chambers, _Book of
Days_.
[83] It was a square stick of hard wood, and about eight inches long.
The entire series of days constituting the year was represented by
notches running along the angles of the square block, each side and
angle thus presenting three months; the first day of a month was marked
by a notch having a patulous stroke turned up from it, and each Sunday
was distinguished by a notch somewhat broader than usual. The feasts
were denoted by symbols resembling hieroglyphics. Chambers, _Book of
Days_.
[84] Men given up to sensuality we may find in abundance, but very few
lovers of learning, and those barbarous, skilled more in quibbles and
sophisms than in literature. Poggio, as quoted by Hallam.
[85] An entry in the books of the Brewers’ Company during the reign of
Henry V (1415–1430), states the reasons why this change was made from
French to English.
Whereas our mother tongue, to wit, the English language, hath in modern
days begun to be honorably enlarged and adorned, for that our most
excellent King Henry V hath, in his letters missive, and in divers
affairs, touching his own person, more willingly chosen to declare the
secrets of his will; and, for the better understanding of the people,
hath, with a diligent mind, procured the common idiom, setting aside
others, to be commended by the exercise of writing; and there are many
of our craft of brewers who have the knowledge of writing and reading
in the same English idiom, but in others, to wit, the Latin and French,
before these times used, they do not in any wise understand; for which
causes, with many others, it being considered how that the greater
part of the lords and trusty commons have begun to make their matters
to be noted down in our mother tongue, so we also, in our own craft,
following in some manner their steps, have decreed in future to commit
to memory the needful things which concern us.
[86] In 1446, a petition was presented to the English parliament, to
consider the great number of grammar schools that sometime were in
divers parts of this realm, besides those that were in London, and how
few there are in these days. Knight, _The Old Printer and Modern Press_.
[87] In the Netherlands we find the earliest development of the high
school. The schools of the Brethren of the Life-in-Common, founded by
Gerard Groot of Deventer, in 1385, which were forty-five in number
in 1435, and double that number in 1460, were the first nurseries of
literature in Germany. The fruits of this attention to education were
freely gathered in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. The entire
Bible was printed in the Flemish or Dutch language within the first
thirty-six years of the sixteenth century in fifteen editions. . . .
Thirty-four editions of the New Testament in that language alone
appeared within the same period. . . . . There can be no sort of
comparison between the number of these editions, and consequently the
eagerness of the people of the Low Countries for biblical knowledge,
considering the limited extent of their language, and anything that
could be found in the Protestant States of the [German] Empire. Hallam,
_Literature of Europe_, chap. VI, sec. 38.
[88] Æneas Sylvius (subsequently Pope Pius II), writing near the
middle of the fifteenth century, said that the kings of Scotland would
rejoice to be as comfortably lodged as the second class of citizens of
Nuremberg. Hallam says that Pope Pius also praised their well-furnished
and splendid dwellings, their easy mode of living, the security of
their rights and the just equality of their laws.
[89] Flanders, during the fifteenth century, was the richest and most
densely populated part of Europe. It was famous for the extent of its
foreign trade and the variety of its industry. It was not uncommon for
one hundred and fifty ships in one day to enter the port of Bruges, in
which city were mercantile agents from seventeen different nations.
Flanders was full of industries, but its great business was the making
of cloth. All the world, wrote an enthusiastic chronicler of the
period, is clothed by Flanders. Ghent had fifteen thousand workmen
employed on stuffs of wool; Ypres had four thousand makers of cloth;
Courtray had six thousand drapers.
[90] As early as the twelfth century, the emperor Henry V undertook
to curb the exactions of feudalism by the establishment of free
cities, and by the grant of extraordinary privileges to mechanics and
manufacturers. To the nobility and petty princes of Germany these
privileges were a constant offense, and the occasion of many local
strifes; but the burghers were industrious and public-spirited, and
took care of their rights. To protect their trade from the rapacity
of the princes on the Elbe and the coast, the cities of Germany, in
the year 1249, established a mercantile organization, known as the
Hanseatic League. In the fifteenth century, this league was constituted
of traders from all parts of the Netherlands and Germany. It was so
powerful that it monopolized the trade of Northern Europe: by threat
of war it compelled Edward VI of England to grant extraordinary
concessions; it made successful war against Sweden, Norway and Denmark.
The Hanseatic League is a wonderful example of the sudden development
of successful legislative and executive ability among men of little
or no culture, who till then had been excluded from every position of
honor in the state.
[91] Peasants could not claim exemption from arbitrary arrest or
military servitude. They had no liberty to choose a residence, to
learn a trade, to travel, to go to school, to marry, to keep property,
to transact business, or to associate with others in any peaceable
enterprise. Practically, they were but little better than slaves.
Beaumanoir, a French jurist of the thirteenth century, defines the
nature of their servitude in the plainest words. He says that:
The third estate of man is that of such as are not free; and these are
not all of one condition, for some are so subject to their lord, that
he may take all they have, alive or dead, and imprison them whenever
he pleases, being accountable to none but God; from others the lord
can take nothing but the customary payments, though at their death all
they have escheats to him.
[92] The determination to keep the peasants enslaved was stronger than
all enmities. During the insurrection of the _Jacquerie_, the English
knights who accompanied King Edward III in his invasion of France
made truce with the French nobles, and joined them in putting down
this rebellion. Froissart, the chronicler of chivalry, admired this
exhibition of magnanimity. For the sufferings of the peasants he has no
sympathy.
[93] “Villeins you have been, villeins you are, and shall be,”—said
King Richard to the miserable peasantry of Essex, after the killing of
Wat Tyler,—“not as before, but in a bondage much more bitter.”
[94] The ecclesiastical history of the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries, says Hallam, teems with sectaries and schismatics, various
in their aberrations of opinion, but all concurring in detestation
of the established church. The heresy which began during the twelfth
century, or earlier, with the Manichees of Bulgaria, was made more and
more formidable by the Albigenses of Languedoc, by the Waldenses of
France and Germany, by the Vaudois of the Alps, by the Lollards of the
Netherlands and England, and afterward by the disciples of John Huss of
Bohemia, until the faith of the mass of the people was uprooted from
its foundation. In Germany, enthusiastic but mystical priests like
Eckhardt, Tauler and Suso, keeping themselves within the pale of the
church, weakened its rigid discipline by preaching against the arrogant
prerogatives of the clergy, and by commanding a higher worship of the
heart and life.
[95] The British Museum contains a Bible in Flemish verse, known as
the _Rym Bible_, written by Jacob von Maerlandt of Damne, near Bruges
in Flanders. It is a manuscript of the fifteenth century, upon vellum,
with ornamented capitals, and is one of many copies of a version of the
Scriptures made in the year 1270.
Except the Waldensian translation in the Provençal language, this
version is, consequently, the most ancient in existence, in the
vernacular, and must have preceded by a century the versions of Raoul
de Presles, of John Trevisa or the Hermit of Hampole. . . . . . The
British Museum had another manuscript in prose, of parts of a Bible in
Flemish, written in the fifteenth century. It is part of a translation
made in the early part of the fourteenth century, and was the text
used for the Bible printed in Delft in 1477. Sotheby, _Principia
Typographica_, vol. III, p. 123.
The British Museum has, also, a manuscript in Flemish of five books of
the Old Testament, made in the fourteenth century.
[96] It is a noteworthy fact that the first complaint of an
unauthorized reading of the Bible came from the city where the Bible
was first printed. Pope Innocent III, alarmed at the consequences
of this innovation, and writing at the beginning of the thirteenth
century, says he had been informed by the bishop of Mentz that:
No small multitude of laymen and women, having procured the
translation of the Gospels, Epistles of St. Paul, the Psalter, Job
and other books of Scripture to be made for them into French, meet in
secret conventicles to hear them read and to preach to each other, and
having been reprimanded for this by some of their parish priests, have
withstood them, alleging reasons from the Scriptures why they should
not be so forbidden. Some of them, too, deride the ignorance of their
ministers, and maintain that their own books teach them more than
they can learn from the pulpit, and that they can express it better.
Although, Innocent proceeds, the desire of reading the Scriptures is
rather praiseworthy than reprehensible, yet they are to be blamed for
frequenting secret assemblies, for usurping the office of preaching,
for deriding their own ministers, and for scorning the company of
those who do not concur in their novelties. He presses the bishop and
chapter to discover the author of this translation, which could not
have been made without a knowledge of letters. He wished to know what
were his intentions, and what degree of orthodoxy and respect for
the holy see those who used it possessed. In another letter Innocent
complains that some of the members of this association continued
refractory, and refused to obey either the bishop or the pope. Hallam,
_Middle Ages_.
[97] At the beginning of the fifteenth century, paintings of the
_Dance of Death_ were in all the large cities of Europe. Woltmann has
distinctly stated the causes which gave popularity to these horrible
compositions.
The misery and unhappiness which at this period more than any other
visited the nations of the West, increased more and more the ascetic
views on the subject of death. The great aims and ideas of medieval
life had passed away, and the ideas of the new period were now fast
beginning to form themselves. . . . . Licentiousness prevailed in
all lands; immoderate festivity and boundless excesses of sensuality
gained more and more the upper hand. . . . . Upon this life of
self-will and self-indulgence, of riot and revelry, the terrors of
death burst all the more fearfully. In addition to the constant wars,
the acts of violence and the shedding of blood which prevailed among
men, we find the most various alarms in nature. Famine and desolating
pestilences, and in the middle of the fourteenth century the Black
Death, made their fearful and triumphal progress through Europe. To
escape the dread and thought of this misery, men gave themselves up
on the one side all the more passionately to the intoxication of
the senses; but on the other they believed themselves struck by the
vengeance of God, and sought for safety in contrition and repentance,
which often led them into the most repulsive forms of ecstasy. But
the most forcible sermons exhorting to repentance, the sermons that
spoke to the people in the most intelligible form, were the figurative
representations which proclaimed the almighty power of death. _Holbein
and his Time_ (Bunnèt’s translation), p. 248.
[98] _Tailleres ymagiers_, the words of the record, may be construed
as engravers on wood, or as carvers of wooden statuettes; but the
_tailleres_ were, probably, engravers. The fraternity of St. Luke
consisted chiefly of men who made or contributed to the making
of books: an engraver would properly belong to the guild. The
words _tailleres ymagiers_ suggest engraving quite as clearly as
_formschneider_ does in German.
[99] Laborde, a brilliant French writer on early printing, who traces
the origin of printing to playing cards, acknowledges its very ignoble
origin with evident mortification:—“What a mother for such a son!”
[100] The history of literature, like that of Empire, is full
of revolutions; our public libraries are cemeteries of departed
reputation; the dust accumulating upon these untouched volumes speaks
as forcibly as the grass that waves over the ruins of Babylon. Hallam,
_Middle Ages_.
[101] The University of Paris made no opposition to the free sale of
paper. It was not subjected to taxes or duties in France, not even when
oppressive taxes were levied on most manufactures. Didot, _Essai sur la
typographie_, p. 730.
[102] A school ordinance of Bautzen in Saxony, dated 1418, gives the
names and prices of some of these books. For an _A B C_ and _Pater
Noster_, etc., 1 groschen; for a good _Donatus_, or child’s grammar,
10 groschen; for a complete _Doctrinal_, 1 half-mark; for the _First
Part_, 8 groschen. There has also been preserved the advertisement
of one Dypold Lauber, a teacher and copyist of books at Hagenau
in Germany, who lived during the middle of the fifteenth century,
from which we may gather a clear notion of the books that were most
salable among the people. His catalogue begins with the _Deeds of the
Romans_, with illustrations. Then follow poetical works, romances of
chivalry, biblical and legendary works, edifying books, religious
books, books for the people, fortune-telling books, and other works
of like character. Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend of the Invention of
Printing_, pp. 2, 3.
[103] Bernard Quaritch, _Catalogue of Block-Books_, 8vo. October, 1873,
pp. 1373–1375. The title of the book, as he gives it, is _Ein Vorrede
das Puch haist wochenlich Andach zu Seligkayt der weltlichen Menschen_.
[104] They were common during the first quarter of the fifteenth
century. Bernard, _De l’origine de l’imprimerie_, vol. I, p. 102.
Fournier, _De l’origine et des productions de l’imprimerie_, p. 176.
Papillon, _Traité historique et pratique de la gravure sur bois_,
vol. I, p. 101. Guichard, _Notice sur le Speculum_, p. 118. They have
been noticed also by Passavant. It is plain that copyists everywhere
recognized the utility of engraving.
[105] The engraver or the printer of the book published it, as all
other books of this kind were published, without a printed title. It
has been described by different authors under these titles: _Types
and Antitypes of the Old and the New Testament_; _The Histories and
the Prophecies of the Old Testament_; _The Typical Harmony of the
Bible_; _Typical Illustrations of the Old Testament, and Antitypical
Illustrations of the New, or the Story of Jesus Christ as told by
Engravers_. Chatto calls it the _Bible for Poor Preachers_, and claims
that it was written especially for their use. He objects to the title,
_Bible of the Poor_, as leading to the erroneous opinion that the
book was bought by the poor of the laity, who, he says, were unable
to read in their own language, much less in Latin. This observation
is true, yet Chatto’s addition to the old title is not really needed.
He overlooks the fact that the charm of the book was in its pictures,
which could be appreciated by the poor of the laity as well as by poor
preachers. In this sense, it was truly the _Bible of the Poor_.
[106] The British Museum has a French manuscript, entitled _Figures
de la Bible_, in which the illustrations occupy nearly all the page,
leaving room for little more than the text that describes the cuts.
The same library has two copies in Latin verse of an abridgment of
the Bible, in which the text occupies nearly all the page, while the
illustrations are in miniature. These manuscripts of the fourteenth
century are not _Bibles of the Poor_, but they show the fondness for
books with biblical pictures.
[107] 1. An edition in Latin, of fifty pages, and supposed to have been
engraved and printed by Melchior Wohlgemuth of Nuremberg, between the
years 1450 and 1460. Only one copy of this book is known. 2. An edition
in German, of forty pages, by Friedrich Walther and Hans Hürning, at
Nordlingen, 1470. 3. An edition in German, attributed to Sporer, at
Erfurth, in 1475.
[108] Fifteen copies are known of the edition here specified as
the first. Heineken, noticing little dissimilarities of design and
engraving in many of these copies, says that they prove the existence
of five distinct editions. For similar reasons, Sotheby says that there
are six editions. The weight of authority favors the classification of
these fifteen copies in one edition.
[109] Jackson and Chatto, _Treatise on Wood Engraving_, pp. 78–80.
[110] The Bible of the Poor has always been considered as one of the
most valuable of block-books, but copies have been sold at widely
varying prices, as may be seen in the annexed statement, compiled from
Sotheby’s _Principia Typographica_:
Willet copy, 1813 245 guineas.
Inglis copy, 1826 36_l._ 15_s._
Willet copy, 1833 36_l._ 15_s._
Lucca copy, 1848 89_l._ 5_s._
Stevens copy, 1849 11_l._ 12_s._
Sykes copy, 1824 18_l._ 17_s._ 6_d._
Rendorp copy, 1825 17_l._ 8_s._ 6_d._
Devonshire copy, 1815 210_l._
[111] Three typographic editions of the _Bible of the Poor_ have been
printed:—1. An edition by Albert Pfister, at Bamberg, in 1461. In this
edition, the engravings are small and coarsely cut. 2. An edition
by Anthoine Vérard, in Paris, about 1500. This edition is a close
imitation, beautifully printed, of the first xylographic edition,
with explanations in French on the back of the engraved pages and on
supplementary leaves. 3. An edition of very different arrangement,
having 118 small wood-cuts, printed by Giovanni Andrea Vavassore detto
Vadagnino of Venice, between 1515 and 1520. Berjeau, _Biblia Pauperum_,
p. 17.
[112] The great prices paid for copies of the book seem to show that
this is a very general belief. Sotheby has wisely put some of them on
record in his _Principia Typographica._
Gaignat copy 300 francs.
La Vallière copy 800 francs.
Crevenna copy 510 florins.
Wilks copy, 1847 74_l._
Brienne-Laire copy 600 francs.
Lang copy, 1828 45_l._
Verdussen copy 240 florins.
Corser copy, 1873 (Quaritch) 550_l._
Inglis copy 47_l._ 5_s._
British Museum copy, 1845 160_l._
Quaritch’s, 1873 200_l._
Stowe copy, 1849 91_l._
[113] A section consists of two or more sheets folded together, so that
one leaf will be within another, as sheets of folded letter paper are
nested. If five quarter quires of letter paper were sewed together, and
bound, the book so bound, in binders’ phrase, would have five sections.
[114] _Bibliotheca Spenceriana_, vol. I, p. 4, as quoted by Ottley, p.
99.
[115] This book is sometimes described as _The History of the Virgin
Mary, or The Prefiguration of the Virgin Mary from the Song of Songs_.
[116] It is probable that the cowled farmers represent the lay
brothers, then very numerous in nearly every thrifty monastery. The
farmers, butchers, bakers, carpenters and useful mechanics were often
permitted to wear the dress and share some of the privileges of the
monks, on condition that they should do the servile work, and accept as
a full reward the rich blessings of monastic prayers and masses.
[117] These devices give us no certain clue to the engraver or printer
of the book, but they are of value in assisting us to ascertain the
purpose for which the book was made. There are no old manuscript
copies of the book, but there are many evidences that it was designed
and produced for the first time in the fifteenth century. It would
seem that this pictorial version of the _Canticles_ was designed, not
so much to illustrate the prefiguration of the Virgin Mary, as the
termination of a great schism which had divided the Catholic church
between the years 1378 and 1449. Christendom had been scandalized by
the rule of two, and, for a short period, of three rival popes. It
was believed that this schism in the church would have been closed by
the action of the Council of Constance, which terminated in 1418; but
this result was not accomplished until 1449, when Nicholas V became
the only pope. The designer of the pictures has treated the return of
Christendom to the rule of one pope as the reconciliation of Christ
with the church. To give special significance to the subject, he has
introduced the armorial shields of the magnates at the councils. It may
be that the engravings were made in 1420, but it could be maintained
with plausibility that they were made after the dissolution of the
Council of Basle in 1448.
[118] The full title of the book is, as given by Heineken, _The Story
of the Blessed Virgin Mary, collected from the Evangelists and the
Fathers, and Illustrated by Engravings_. Dibdin calls it, _The Defense
of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary_.
[119] The reading should be, _Mon cœur avez_,—you have my heart,—the
word heart being represented not by letters, but by a drawing.
[120] The following synopsis of the work is condensed from the
translation of the text of the book, as given by Sotheby in his
_Principia Typographica_, vol. II, pp. 38–45:
Antichrist is born in Babylon. He yields himself to lust of women at
Bethsaida. He is circumcised, and announces himself as the Messiah.
He is instructed in magic and all sorts of evil. Elias and Enoch come
down from Heaven and preach against him. Antichrist deceives the world
by superior eloquence; he performs miracles; his apostles preach to
the kings of Lybia and Ethiopia, and “the queen of the Amazons, and
the Red Jews.” All the kings of the world are converted to Antichrist;
he condemns unbelievers to strange tortures; he kills Elias and Enoch.
He repeats the history of the resurrection; he bids the whole world
witness his ascent to Heaven from the Mount of Olives. The Almighty
then gives the order—“Michael, strike him dead; I will no longer bear
with the unjust.” Antichrist is carried to Hell, where he is received
by the Devil and his allies. Antichrist being dead, princes and people
become Christians, and there is only one faith. But the people fear
the Day of Judgment. These are some of the signs of the great and
terrible day: The sea shall rise forty ells above the mountains; it
shall then sink away and vanish. The sea shall burn. Trees and plants
shall sweat blood. There will be earthquakes. Buildings and trees
shall fall down in hopeless ruin. Stones shall fly up in the air. Wild
beasts grow tame with fright, and run to men for help. The dead arise.
Stars fall from Heaven. Heaven and earth are burnt up and chaos comes
again. At this point the imagination of the designer was exhausted: he
had done his best. The page following, which should have been filled
with an illustration, is judiciously left blank. The last engraving is
that of the resurrection of the blessed.
[121] The central figure in the lower illustration, the meek and
priestly personage who, surrounded by gamboling devils, and with a
monkey perched upon his back, walks with measured pace and uplifted
eyes, is the Antichrist. This is the introduction to the explanatory
text:
Antichrist is instructed by adepts, who teach him to make gold, the
art of magic, and all sorts of evil. And this takes place at the
city named Corosaym. And this stands also written in the _Compendium
Theologiæ_. And our Lord curses the said city in his gospel, and says
thus: “Woe to thee, Corosaym!”
Here, we see Antichrist goes from Capernaum to Jerusalem, and he there
announces himself as holy. And hereof is also written in the book
_Compendium Theologiæ_. And our Lord, in the gospel, also curses this
city, and speaks thus concerning it: “Woe to thee, Capernaum!”
[122] The Latin title is _Ars Memorandi, notabilis per figuras
evangelistarum_.
[123] The bibliographic title is _Ars Moriendi_, or, literally, The Art
of Dying, but the work is more clearly described by the paraphrase _How
to Die Becomingly_. It is also known as _The Temptations of Demons_.
[124] John of Gamundia was a mathematician and professor of astronomy.
At his death, in the year 1442, he was chancellor of the University
of Vienna. The calendars made by him were highly esteemed, and were
engraved and printed for many years after his death. In his researches
after old prints, the late R. Z. Becker, of Gotha, discovered one of
the original blocks of a placard or poster edition of the _Calendar of
John of Gamundia_. He describes it as about 10-3/4 inches wide, 15-1/4
inches long and 1-1/2 inches thick. The block was engraved on both
sides.
[125] Chatto says that the practice of distributing pictures or prints
of a religious character at monasteries and shrines to those who visit
them is not yet extinct in Europe.
In Belgium it is still continued, and, I believe, also in France,
Germany and Italy. The figures, however, are not generally impressions
from wood blocks, but are, for the most part, wholly executed by
means of stencils. One of the latter class, representing the shrine
of _Notre Dame de Hal_, colored in the most wretched taste with
brick-dust red and shining green, is now lying before me. It was given
to a gentleman who visited Halle, near Brussels, in 1829. It is nearly
of the same size as many of the old devotional wood-cuts of Germany,
being about four inches high by two and three-quarters wide. _Treatise
on Wood Engraving_, pp. 57, 58.
[126] The Brotherhood of the Life-in-Common may, perhaps, be regarded
as an exception. Madden in his _Lettres d’un bibliographe_ has shown
that this fraternity were much interested in the production of books,
and that they had a printing office in a monastery at Cologne; but he
has not yet made it appear that they did the manual labor.
[127] Southey says that, at the beginning of the sixteenth century,
many educated men complained that the reputation of learning, its
privileges and rewards, were lowered when it was thrown open to all
men. It was seriously proposed in Italy to prohibit the publication of
any book costing less than three soldi.
The amusing insolence manifested by authors, scholars and readers
toward the early development of literature in any new field, or by a
new method, is a subject that could be amply illustrated. The city
of New-York furnishes a comparatively recent example in the field of
journalism. The daily newspapers of 1835, which were then sold for
six cents each, refused to recognize the rightful existence of the
new daily then sold for one cent. So strong a prejudice was created
against “the penny paper,” that many timid men were afraid to be seen
with the despised sheet in their hands: the six-penny papers were
respectable, and the penny paper was vulgar. The same contemptuousness
was manifested when duodecimos supplanted the folios and quartos—when
books bound in cloth took the place of books bound in leather. The
despised forms of printing have had their revenge. The rod of Aaron has
swallowed its rivals.
[128] The full title of the book is _Donatus de octibus partibus
orationis_, or Donatus on the Eight Parts of Speech. It is sometimes
designated as _Donatus pro puerilis_, or the Donatus for Little Boys.
[129] This extract is from the chapter entitled, “When, where, and by
whom was found out the unspeakably useful art of printing books?” It
contains statements of value, which will be quoted at greater length on
an advanced page.
[130] There can be no doubt whatever about the genuineness of these
blocks. They were bought in Germany, about two hundred years ago, by
Foucault, the minister of Louis XIV of France.
[131] Van der Linde says that the _Donatus_ and _Abecedarium_, a
religious primer hereafter to be noticed, are used in all the religious
schools of Italy to this day.
I look with melancholy respect at an _Abecedarium_, a little octavo
of four leaves, _Il Sillabario_, printed in our time in 1862, at
Asti. Beneath the heading, Jesus Maria, the Alphabet follows, and
after that the _Pater noster_, _Ave_, and _Credo_. Beside the
_Sillabario_, I have a little grammar entitled _Donato ad uso delle
scuolle secondarie. Nuova editione accresciuta e riformata._ Pinerola,
&c., 1865. . . . The esteem in which these Catholic school-books,
those foul springs from which, for instance, Erasmus drew the first
elements of Latin, were held, was so great that the first efforts of
the humanists to improve them were regarded as heresy, and heaven and
earth were moved against such dangerous destroyers. . . . Donatuses
were printed in every place where schools were established, and where
the art of printing was introduced. _The Haarlem Legend_, p. 3.
[132] Sometimes described under the title of _Speculum Humanæ
Salvationis_.
[133] Jackson and Chatto, _Treatise on Wood Engraving_, p. 83.
The book was written for the instruction of the traveling mendicant
friars who had, since the thirteenth century, gradually monopolized
preaching and the pastoral work of the settled clergy. Provided with
nothing but a little Church Latin, and therefore too ignorant to
derive their discourses from original sources, they felt the want of
homiletic and catechetical assistance as an aid to their understanding
and memory. Picture books, with a brief explanatory text, were the best
means of supplying this want. Hence originated representations of the
mystic relation between the Old and the New Testament, of which the
_Biblia Pauperum_ is the first fruit. Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend_,
p. 3.
[134] There is an edition, with a text in Latin and in German, which
was printed at Augsburg in 1471; there are many editions in German
only, some without dates, and others with dates of 1476, 1492, and
1500; a Flemish edition by Veldener in 1483; and various editions in
French.
[135] There are two copies of the book which exhibit the blemish of
a leaf made up of two distinct pieces of paper, each piece printed
by a different impression, but so pasted together as to constitute
one perfect page. We do not certainly know the cause that made this
patchwork necessary, but it would seem that a gross blunder had been
made in the printing-office; perhaps a transposition of lines by the
compositor, or illegible presswork by the pressman. It was necessary
that the sheet containing the error should be canceled and replaced.
But the frugal printer refused to destroy the entire page for an error
confined to but half a page. He tore off the lower half of the leaf,
and replaced it by attaching a piece of white paper to the bottom of
the upper half, which contained the engraving in brown ink. On this
pasted piece of white paper, he took a corrected or perfect impression
from the types. In this copy, the impression, which deeply indented
the paper in the double thickness where it was pasted, proves that
the types were printed after the engravings. There is another copy in
which the illustration on the upper half of the sheet was canceled, and
replaced by the same method.
[136] Ottley, selecting one letter for examination from a great
number of letters of the same kind, found that it was always the same
where-ever it occurred, not only in the first, but in the second
edition. Koning and Enchedé, pursuing a badly cast or defective letter,
found that the peculiar blemishes of this letter re-appeared in other
letters on many pages. This precision of form is the peculiarity of
typography: it proves that the letters of unvarying uniformity could
not have been made by any engraver on wood, but must have been produced
by a mould.
[137] The Latin and Dutch editions of the _Speculum_ maintain such a
remarkable conformity with each other in the engravings, in the types,
in the quality of the paper, in the presswork, and in every typographic
feature, that it is evident that the four editions were published
in the same country and by the same printer. As all bibliographers,
whatever theory they may have concerning the origin of printing,
attribute, without hesitation, the Dutch edition of the _Speculum_
to Holland, the Latin editions should also be attributed to Holland.
Guichard, _Notice sur le Speculum_, pp. 118 and 119. This is the
opinion of all bibliographers except Heineken.
[138] The fac-simile given by Holtrop in his _Monuments typographiques_
presents the following measurements, in American inches: In the Latin
edition, described in this book as the first, 25 lines measure 5-1/2
inches. In the Dutch edition, here described as the third, 27 lines
measure 5-1/2 inches. In the Dutch edition, here described as the
fourth, 26 lines measure 5-1/2 inches. As we find no indication of the
use of leads or thin blanks to increase the distance between lines, it
would seem that the types of the three editions were cast in different
moulds. Sotheby’s fac-similes, which seem to have been made with equal
care, do not exactly agree with those taken from Holtrop’s book. There
are, no doubt, differences of size, not only in the fac-similes, but
in the original copies of the book. Allowance must be also made for
the unequal shrinkage on different leaves of the very thick paper,
which may have been unequally dampened, and unequally extended before
printing.
[139] When a new engraving on wood, in imitation of an old one, is
desired, the modern engraver does not redraw, but transfers the
subject, substantially by the following process: The back of the print
to be copied is moistened with a solution of alkali, or of benzine,
which, soaking through the paper, forms a new combination with the oil
in the ink. The black of the ink is thereby liberated, so that it can
be completely removed by firm pressure. The print so treated is then
laid, face downward, on the block, and the free black is transferred
to the block by the pressure of a burnisher, or of a press. The black
re-appears on the block, but in a properly reversed position, ready for
the tool of the engraver.
[140] The neglect of engraving on wood by the early typographers has
frequently been noticed as a strange fact. It was, no doubt, induced
by the difficulties encountered in trying to print wood-cuts with
types. The blocks would warp and crack in spite of all precautions.
The evil was but partially checked by diminishing the size of the
blocks. To evade the annoyance produced by warped blocks, some printers
engraved large illustrations on separate pieces of wood, which were
roughly fitted to each other, but not conjoined. Other printers printed
the wood-cuts of their books by a separate impression. As these
illustrations were printed in the same black ink which was used for the
text, the double impression is rarely ever noticed, not even by the
practical printer.
[141] The Dutch folio of Jan de Mandeville, placed by Holtrop about
1470, as a work of printing, is so bad that the earliest editions of
the _Speculum_ are masterpieces by the side of it. The work of an
unknown Schiedam printer of the latter part of the fifteenth century
is equally bad. The Brussels incunabula of the Brotherhood of the
Life-in-Common are bad; those of Arnold ter Hoorne at Cologne (1471–83)
are sometimes barbarous. Heineken mentions a book printed in Augsburg
in 1557, and says: “If the name of the engraver on wood and the date
had not been found, one might think that this was the oldest book
in the world.” In the series of the different Dutch incunabula of
this kind, the _Speculum_ presents itself very favorably; it is not
badly, but well printed; it is not a first experiment, but the fruit
of practice. Dr. Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend of the Invention of
Printing_, p. 37.
[142] The frisket of the modern hand-press is a light frame-work of
iron, which is covered like a kite, with a sheet of paper pasted to
the edges. Just before the act of impression, this frisket is placed
between the form of inked types and the sheet of paper prepared to
receive the impression. The office of the frisket is to prevent the
sheet from being blackened by anything but the face of the types. For
this purpose, every part of the page to be printed is neatly cut out
of the paper mask pasted on the frisket. Every part of the sheet that
should remain unprinted is masked or covered by the uncut paper of the
frisket. When the impression is taken, the sheet receives only the
impression from the type, and is unsoiled by the ink that accumulates
about the types and their fixtures.
[143] Veldener, who was a German, and, probably, a pupil of Ulric Zell
of Cologne, began to print at Louvain in 1473. Like many printers of
the Netherlands, he moved his printing office from place to place. He
printed at Louvain in 1473; at Utrecht in 1478; at Culemburg in 1483.
The last book bearing his imprint is dated 1484.
[144] For a fac-simile (from Holtrop) of this face of type see page 277.
[145] A fuller notice of Cornelis the binder will be given in the
chapter on the Legend of Coster, in which his relations to early
printing will be described. Attention may be called to the significance
of the fact that no fragments of any book in the types of the
_Speculum_ have been found in the covers or binding of any manuscript
book of earlier date than 1467.
[146] This work was in use as late as the reign of Charles V. It was
enjoined by him that a printer should furnish without alteration
“the little book commencing with the alphabet, the little book which
directs how to bless the table (grace at meals), and the little book
which directs how to answer at the holy mass.” Van der Linde, _Haarlem
Legend_, p. 2.
[147] Hessels does not describe this as Type VIII, but as the _Type
of the Enschedé Abecedarium_. He thought it “advisable to separate
these two little works [the _Donatus_ and the _Abecedarium_, which
are printed in this face], to a certain extent, from the others” but
he admits that the types of these books bear the family likeness and
cannot be omitted.
[148] Berjeau, who accepts this _Abecedarium_ as one of the first
products of the invention, says that impositions of eight pages seem
more complex than they really are—that the printer had but to fold a
sheet, to mark the pages and then unfold the sheet, to see the method
at a glance. This reasoning is specious, but it is inconclusive. It
was the argument of the courtiers with Columbus after he had stood the
egg on its end. Anybody can do it. Simple as the process may seem, the
imposition of eight pages of type in one form was not done by any of
the early printers, and we have to infer that they did not know how to
do it.
[149] Caxton, who printed thousands of pages in folio, made use of
but eight fonts. Blades, _Life and Typography of Caxton_, vol. II, p.
xxvii. Gutenberg, who practised printing for thirty years, did his work
with not more than six fonts of type. Schœffer, who was a printer and
publisher for forty-three years, made use of but six fonts.
[150] Leon De la Borde, _Debut de l’imprimerie à Strasbourg_, pp. 70,
72.
[151] Leads are very thin pieces of metal which are inserted between
the lines of types to increase the distance between the lines, and to
give the printed page a more open and inviting appearance.
[152] This apparently easy method of demonstrating the practicability
of types of wood has been attempted by many writers. Wetter, the
author of a valuable history of printing, published in his book a
page printed from types of wood, which he offered as conclusive
evidence that types of wood could have been made and were made by the
early printers. But his types of wood are larger than those of the
_Speculum_, and they are also provided with leads to keep them in line.
Notwithstanding these precautions, they are more out of line than the
types of the _Speculum_. Meerman, in his _Origines Typographicæ_,
printed a few words from types of wood with a similar result; but he
showed a practical disbelief in his own theory, by engraving all the
fac-similes of the alleged types of wood upon plates of copper. The
substitution of copper for wood was, virtually, an acknowledgment of
the impracticability of wood types. Schinkel, a Dutch printer, was more
successful than either Meerman or Wetter in obtaining a good impression
from small types of wood, but he subsequently admitted that his success
was but a trick, and that it did not prove that they could be used in
the ordinary practice of printing. Léon De la Borde afterward conceded
that types of wood would be impracticable.
[153] The impracticability of types of wood is cleverly stated by
Enschedé:
“I have exercised printing for about fifty years, and I have cut
letters and figures for my father’s and my own printing office in
wood of palm, pear, and medlar trees; I have now been a type-founder
for upwards of thirty years; but to do such things as those learned
gentlemen [Junius and Meerman] pretend that Laurens Coster and his
heirs have done, neither I nor Papillon [the most clever wood-engraver
of France] are able to understand, nor the artists Albrecht Durer,
De Gray, and Iz. Van der Vinne either; but such learned men who
dream about wooden movable letters make Laurens Janzoon Coster use
witchcraft, for the hands of men are not able to do it. To print a
book with capitals of the size of a thumb, as on placards, _House
and Ground_, which are cut in wood, and which I have cut myself by
hundreds, would be ridiculous; to do it with wooden letters of the
size of a pin’s head is impossible. I have made experiments with a
few of a somewhat larger size. I made a wooden slip of Text Corpus
[a body about the size of Long-primer], and drew the letters on the
wood or slip; thereupon I cut the letters. I had left a space of about
the size of a saw between each letter on purpose, and I had no want
of fine and good tools; the only question now was to saw the letters
mathematically square off the slip. I used a very fine little saw,
made of a very thin spring of English steel, so cleverly made that I
doubt whether our Laurens Janszoon had a saw half as good; I did all I
could to saw the letters straight and parallel, but it was impossible;
there was not a single letter which could stand the test of being
mathematically square. What now to do? It was impossible to polish or
file them. I tried it, but it could not be done by our type-founder’s
whetstones, as it would have injured the letters. In short, I saw
no chance, and I feel sure that no engraver is able to cut separate
letters in wood, in such a manner that they retain their quadrature,
for that is the most important part of the work of type-casting. If,
however, I wished to give my trouble and time to it, I should be able
to execute the three words, _Spiegel onzer Behoudinis_, better than
the Rotterdam artist has done in the Latin works of M. Meerman; but it
is impossible, ridiculous, and merely chimerical, to print books in
this manner.” Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend_, pp. 72, 73.
[154] This taste for variety in the shape of letters was more clearly
exhibited in Greek and German than in Roman types. The Greek types
of the sixteenth century are so full of ligatures and variants,
that they are undecipherable to the scholar who has been taught the
language only in modern text books. So far from trying to make letters
readable, the literati of that period tried to make them obscure: they
were evidently determined not to make the acquisition of the language
easy for their successors. When Francis I of France established the
royal printing office, he engaged a skillful Greek penman to design
additional varieties of contractions. Two centuries afterward, Pierre
Fournier, the younger, a type-founder of Paris, commended the Greek
types of his own manufacture as much less complicated than any Greek
types then in use. But I count 776 characters in the font. More than
300 of Fournier’s contractions, once esteemed as admirable graces,
have been rejected by modern type-founders. Blades, who has made a
careful analysis of the characters used by Caxton, shows that in the
face described by him as 1 there are at least 167 distinct characters.
But 24 of these are capitals and 81 are double letters. In faces 2 and
2* there are 380 characters, exclusive of figures, spaces and marks of
punctuation.
[155] Blades, in his _Life and Typography of William Caxton_, has given
a practical illustration of these changes in Plate IX B, which also
illustrates the feasibility of types of pure lead, for a notice of
which see next page.
[156] The most approved process in the modern art of stereotyping is
that in which the mould is made of calcined gypsum or plaster. The same
material is used by type-founders in the manufacture of the largest
types of metal. The cheapness of sand, and the ease with which it can
be worked, make it the most serviceable of materials for all founders
who wish to produce cheap castings.
[157] To satisfy his own doubts as to the feasibility of casting small
types in moulds of sand, Bernard, of Paris, gave to a brass-founder
the types of a few Roman capital letters as the models from which he
requested founded duplicates. He charged the founder not to dress nor
finish the face of the founded letters, nor to give them more than
ordinary care. The founded letters so made were printed by Bernard
in his history as practical illustrations of the feasibility of
sand moulds. They lack the finish of types made by the professional
type-founder; they look like badly worn types, but they are legible.
The brass-founder assured Bernard that a workman could make one
thousand similar types in one working day. Bernard then gave to this
founder separate types of a word in Gothic letters and requested
him to furnish duplicates of these types founded on one body. The
duplicates returned showed the very defects of the types of the
_Speculum_; the thick lines were spotted, and the letters were out of
line. Bernard’s impression shows that the movable types which made the
word were jostled or trivially disturbed at the instant of moulding. A
disturbance of this nature would explain the irregularity of line and
the rounding of the edges. The spotted and ragged edges of the founded
word were probably caused by the roughness of the moulding sand, or
by the sticking fast to the mould of bits of metal. It is a proper
inference that in both cases the defects were the imperfections of the
same process. The experiment of Bernard fully proved the feasibility of
making small types in sand moulds.
[158] In the sand mould, the hot metal is poured in; in the metal
mould, whether worked by hand or machine, the hot metal is forced or
cast in. The phrase “casting type,” which implies a sudden throw or
violent jerk, has entirely supplanted the older phrase of “founding
type.”
[159] Didot, _Essai sur la typographie_, p. 607.
[160] The process seems impracticable, but whoever carefully studies
the British and American patent reports, will find specifications
of inventions in typography that are much more absurd. There can be
no doubt of their use. Koning cites one M. Fleischman, who had not
only seen conjoined matrices in the type-foundry of C. Hardwich, of
Nuremberg, but had experimentally cast types from them in an old mould
that appears to have been made for this express purpose. Speckelinus,
Paul Pater, Meerman, Schoepflin, Spiegel, and other early chroniclers,
have specifically mentioned types pierced with a hole, and bound
together with wire. These so-called types were either punches or
matrices. Koning, _l’Origine, etc., de l’imprimerie_, p. 12.
[161] Benjamin Franklin, in his autobiography, has given a curious
description of his attempt to supply his defective printing office with
types cast in matrices of lead:
“Our printing house often wanted sorts, and there was no
letter-foundry in America; I had seen types cast at James’s in London,
but without much attention to the matter; however, _I contrived a
mould_, and made use of the letters we had as puncheons, _struck the
matrices in lead_, and thus supplied in a pretty tolerable way all
deficiencies. I also engraved several things on occasion; made the
ink; I was warehouse-man, and, in short, quite a factotum.”
[162] _Dissertation sur l’origine, l’invention, etc., de l’imprimerie_,
p. 18.
[163] It has been shown that book types must be on square bodies. As
a necessary consequence every form of types must be squared. If the
lines of types in any page are not of uniform length in the metal, and
the page is not truly squared, the form cannot be handled nor printed.
But although the lines are of uniform length in the metal, they do not
always appear so in print. The last line of a paragraph is frequently
short; lines of poetry are always of an irregular length. To make the
form square, and yet produce this desired irregularity at the end of
every short line, the compositor inserts metal blanks, technically
known as quadrats. As these blanks are about one-third shorter than the
letters, they are not touched by the inking roller; they receive no ink
and take no impression, and are consequently invisible to the reader.
Quadrats are now regarded as an indispensable part of every font of
types, but the appearance of the _Speculum_ shows that the printer of
the book had to do his work without them. That he knew the utility of
quadrats is apparent, for he used low types as spaces between words.
His imperfect press compelled him to reject quadrats at the end of
short lines, and to fill the blanks with bearers.
[164] To protect types in places similarly exposed, stereotypers
insert at the extreme ends of short lines types of flat face expressly
designed for this object, which are usually known as guards. When the
plates have been made perfect in other points, the guards are no longer
needed, and are cut away. When books were printed on hand presses
during the first half of this century, pressmen sometimes pasted on or
tacked on thin strips of wood around the forms of types to shield the
ends of lines from injury. It is a strange surprise to encounter this
modern method of protecting types from injury in one of the earliest
books.
[165] A paper-mark is an opaque design on the web of the paper, placed
there to enable the buyer to identify a particular manufacture. It is
made by bending the wires on which the moist pulp is couched in some
peculiar shape which leaves its impression on the paper when it is
perfected. Certain sizes of paper are even now known by the names of
marks that are no longer used. Foolscap once bore the mark of a fool’s
head with cap and bells; Post once had the mark of a post-boy’s horn.
Paper-marks are now made chiefly for the finer qualities of writing
papers. The illustrations of old paper-marks, on the following pages,
were taken from Koning, and are about one-eighth of the original size.
[166] Water-marks have much less weight in bibliography than some
writers have attributed to them. In very few instances can a prime
limit be fixed for their use; and, as the marks might be repeated,
and the paper itself kept for any length of time, and imported to any
place, they cannot be used as evidence either of the date when, or
place where, they passed through the press. Blades, _William Caxton_,
vol. II, p. XVIII.—The results of the examination of the paper-marks
are, for the present, mostly negative. Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend_,
p. 86.
[167] Hessels, _Haarlem Legend_, p. xvii.
[168] _Haarlem Legend_, p. 35.
[169] Bernard, _De l’origine et des débuts de l’imprimerie_, vol. I,
pp. 97 and 98.
[170] Bernard, _De l’origine et des débuts de l’imprimerie_, vol. I. p.
98.
[171] The phrase could be applied to the forms of the letters in the
books, without regard to the quality or any peculiarity of the printing
or the binding. Two forms of writing were then in use: one, a black
angular, and somewhat condensed form of Gothic character, which is
defined in Fournier’s _Manuel typographique_ as _lettres de forme_, or
letters of precision; the other, a round, light-faced, more careless
and more popular form of letters, named by him as _lettres de somme_.
To this day, carefully written but disconnected letters, whether
upright or inclined, are colloquially known as _print_ letters. The
doctrinal which was put in form may have been written in _lettres de
forme_. The phrase _getté en molle_ could have been fairly applied to
these precise letters, in contradistinction to the more careless shapes
of the _lettres de somme_.
[172] Leon de Bubure, in a paper published in the _Bulletins de
l’académie royale de Belgique_, 2d series, vol. VIII, No. 11, shows
that printing was practised at Antwerp as early as 1417. He submits
an extract from the records of the city in which it appears that one
Jan the printer publicly acknowledged, August 5th, 1417, that he was
indebted to William Tserneels, manufacturer of parchment, in the sum
of 2 pounds 12 shillings 4 pence, for which he bound himself and his
chattels. It seems that this Jan the printer received a very liberal
credit, for there are other acknowledgments of obligations for larger
amounts, all incurred in 1417. After this date his name does not again
appear on the record.
[173] Van der Meersch, _Imprimeurs Belges et Neèrlandais_, vol. I, p.
92.
[174] Some of the evidences that have been adduced to prove the
priority of typographic printing in the Netherlands are really
ludicrous. In 1777, Desroches, a member of the Academy of Brussels,
published a pamphlet, in which he undertook to prove that the art
of printing books was practised in Flanders in the beginning of the
fourteenth century. His authority was an old rhymed chronicle of
Brabant, written by Nicholas, clerk of the city of Antwerp. In that
part of the chronicle which narrated events before 1313, it is stated
of one Ludwig, that “He was one of the first who discovered the method
of Stamping which is in use to this day.” Desroches construed the
word _Stampien_ as printing. But the context shows that this Ludwig
was a fiddler, and that he had invented nothing more than a method of
beating time by stamping with the foot. In other examples which might
be adduced, it is plain that the word translated as printing does not
mean printing with ink. This word has been made to serve in notices of
embossing, stamping, stenciling and moulding.
[175] Hessel’s translation, as given in _The Haarlem Legend_ of Van der
Linde, p. 8.
[176] Van der Linde takes exception to this part of the chronicle. He
says that Zell’s knowledge of geography was confused, and that he wrote
Holland where he should have written the Netherlands. His reasons for
suggesting this correction are, that the manufacture of block-books
and the prints of images, and the cultivation of literature and of
literary arts, during the first half of the fifteenth century, were
in their most flourishing condition in the cities of Bruges, Antwerp,
Brussels and Louvain, all of the Southern Netherlands, while they were
comparatively neglected in Haarlem, Leyden, Delft and Utrecht, of the
Northern Netherlands. At that period Holland had not taken its place
as the foremost state of Europe, in its championship of liberty and
civilization.
[177] Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend_, p. 66.
[178] Behold what favor is due to the writing! Compare work with
work and examine copy with copy [i. e. notice the uniformity of the
letters]. Consider how clearly, how neatly, how handsomely, John Brito,
a citizen of Bruges, prints these works, having discovered a very
wonderful art, nobody having instructed him, and the very astonishing
implements also, not less praiseworthy.
[179] Van Praet says that the word _imprimit_, or printed, was
frequently used by the scribes and copyists of that period as the
equivalent of _scripsit_, or wrote. It was also used to describe
painting by stencils. _Notice sur Colard Mansion_, p. 11.
[180] The same face of types was used by Machlinia of London. It would
seem that Veldener was not only working as a printer, but that, even at
this date, he was doing business, to some extent, as a manufacturer of
types for the trade.
[181] The date usually assigned for the introduction of printing in
Cologne is 1466, but some authors suppose, and Hessels and Madden say
it is probable, that Ulric Zell began to print there as early as 1462.
[182] We have in this country two remarkable illustrations of attempts
to make types by men who had no experience in type-founding. Benjamin
Franklin’s experiment is mentioned in the note on page 303. In 1794,
Wing and White of Hartford, men entirely ignorant of type-founding,
undertook to make type, never having seen a type-mould.
[183] Hessel’s translation as given in the _Haarlem Legend_, p. 50.
[184] The comments of a modern critic on the strange omissions of this
positive statement are to the point:
“This forgetfulness of Coornhert has always seemed to me one of the
most striking peculiarities of the Haarlem legend. How can it be! Here
is a man, very learned, very patriotic, who appreciates the importance
of the discovery, who contends with zeal to establish for his country
the honor of being the cradle of the greatest of modern inventions.
He knows the name, the family name and the family of the inventor,
and he does not divulge them to his fellow-citizens! This surpasses
belief. And what shall we say of the burgomaster Van Zuren? He writes
a special treatise to retrieve the glory of the invention to the honor
of the city of which he is a magistrate, but it never occurs to him
that he should honor the memory of the inventor—I will not say by a
monument of some kind, for that might be demanding altogether too
much—but at least by a mention, by some souvenir, by giving his name
to some street, or still less, by a simple record in a book. It is not
possible to find another example of a forgetfulness so incredible.” C.
Ruelens, _Bibliophile Belge_, vol. III, 1868.
[185] Ottley’s translation as quoted in Johnson’s _Typographia_, vol.
I, 12.
[186] An attempted play or pun on the Latin _faustus_, happy. But the
German printer’s name was not Faust, but Fust. This pun was the origin
of the error.
[187] In Junius’s description of the thief, there is a strange
confusion of singular and plural. Beginning with the specification
of one John as the thief, the story ends with an intimation that
there were two thieves. This substitution of _they_ for _he_ is not a
typographical error, nor is it a slip of the pen. It seems to have been
intended to sustain the insinuation of the complicity of Fust in this
theft.
[188] The full title of the book from which this translation was made
is _Hadriani Ivnii Hornani, Medici Batavia. In qua præter gentis
& insulæ antiquitatem, originem, decora, mores, aliaque, ad eam
historiam pertinantia, declaratur quæ fuerit vetus Batavia. Ex. offic.
Plantiniana,_ 1588, 4to. Hadrianus Junius was born at Hoorn, in the
year 1511. His education, as a boy, was received at a grammar school
in Haarlem; as a young man at the university of Louvain. In 1537, with
one Martin Costerus, he made a tour in foreign countries. In 1540
he obtained from the university of Bologna the degree of doctor of
medicine. Two years afterward he was living in Paris. In 1543 he went
to England, and for six years succeeding, he was employed as physician
to the duke of Norfolk. Soon after the death of the duke, he published
in London a Greek lexicon, which enhanced his reputation as a scholar,
but did not mend his fortunes. In 1559 he returned to Haarlem, where he
married a lady of wealth. Three years after his marriage he accepted
the appointment of tutor to the crown prince of Denmark, but finding
finding that the position or the climate was disagreeable, he resigned
the office. In 1563 he was appointed town physician, and rector of
the Latin grammar school at Haarlem, which appointments he held until
1569. About this period he wrote _Nomenclator_, a lexicon in eight
languages, and _Batavia_, a description of Holland. At various times
he was formally invited to enter the service of the kings of Hungary,
Poland and Denmark. William of Orange sent front Delft for his services
as a physican: at a meeting of the deputies from the States, he
nominated Junius as the historian of Holland. In 1574 he was made town
physican at Middleburg, with a liberal salary and a free living. When
Haarlem was captured in 1573 by the Spaniards, the library of Junius
was plundered, and many of his manuscripts were destroyed. He took
this calamity greatly to heart, and died at Arnemuiden in 1575. Justus
Lipsius said he was the most learned Netherlander after Erasmus.
[189] The publication of _Batavia_, the work upon which the fame of
Junius rests, seems to have been suggested to William of Orange by
Junius himself, who expected to receive from the States a salary for
his services as historian. In 1565, the question of salary, first
named at 200 pounds of 40 groots, was put to vote. The prudence of
the Dutch character is shown in the deliberations of the deputies.
Haarlem, Delft, Leyden, and Gouda assented; Dordrecht and Amsterdam
requested time for its consideration. Dordrecht afterward consented,
but on condition that the money should be paid out of the taxes; that
Junius should publish a volume every year; and that he should publish
nothing without the approval of the States. In the meantime other
States receded from their action, saying that the publication was
ill-timed during a period of general distress. After some influences
had been used, the States gave a grudging and qualified assent. In
1570, Junius petitioned for the payment of 200 guilders, as he had then
finished the first book of the history. The petition was not favorably
received, and its consideration was postponed for one year, at which
time it was finally decided by the deputies to pay Junius 300 guilders,
to prohibit him from publishing the first volume of the book with a
dedication to the States, and to release him from all obligation to
continue the work. This disparaging treatment of the author prevented
the publication of the book with the completeness and at the time
Junius had proposed. After his death the manuscripts of _Batavia_ were
collected and transcribed by his son Peter, who, with Peter Douza,
undertook the publication. The book was published during 1588, from the
office of Christopher Plantin, at Antwerp. The selection of a printer
in a neighboring city shows that there was then no competent printer at
Haarlem. It is another evidence of the indifference of the people of
Haarlem toward typography.
[190] He relates not as a legend, but as veritable history, that
the virgin Soter, who possessed but three pennies, gave them for
the building of a church in Dordrecht. Other three pennies were
miraculously and regularly found in her purse, and were as regularly
bestowed, until the church was built. He repeats, with simplicity,
the story of the eleven thousand virgins of Cologne, who came from
England to the now unknown port of Verona in Holland. He says that
a certain stone in a church in Leyden was once a loaf of bread, and
that the transubstantiation was made by a curse. He formally records
the delivery by one Margaret, countess of Hennenberg, of 365 babies—a
miracle, writes Van der Linde, “that makes you think of an upset pot of
shrimps.” Junius adds that this would be a miracle beyond belief, if it
had not been attested by the authority of public monuments . . . . but
he accepts the common belief. These examples of the credulousness of
the author of _Batavia_ warn us not to accept his criticisms on other
traditions. Junius begins his description of printing at Haarlem with a
solemn declaration of his intention to tell the truth. The declaration
of candor is not needed: what the reader of _Batavia_ does need is, not
the protestation of the intention of the author to tell the truth, but
some convincing evidence of his ability to distinguish the true from
the false. His preface is long, pedantic, and in every way irrelevant,
as may be inferred from a glance at the following classical names which
he has sprinkled in the first paragraph: Carneades, the Daughter of
Time, Democritus, Phœnicians and Egyptians, Cadmus, Athenians, Greeks
and Thebans, Cecrops, Philostratus, Linus, Tacitus, Palamedes, Hyginus,
Carmenta, Evander, Crassus, Scævola and Plutarch!
[191] In the year 1630, Adrien Rooman, of Haarlem, published a print
which contained the engraved representation of a printing office, to
which he put the words—“Invented at Haarlem about 1430;”—but “The
magistrates and citizens of Haarlem, in everlasting remembrance of the
event and the man,” erected a monument in front of the Coster house,
with an inscription on it, which fixed the date at 1440.
[192] Lambinet caustically observes that the romance of Junius obeys
the dramatic law of unity, in time, place, and hero; the typographic
art is invented complete in one day. The vague language of Junius has
been used as a proper warrant for a very liberal construction of the
date. When Van Lennep objected, in 1823, to the chimerical year of the
invention, 1423, fixed upon by a Haarlem committee, the synod enjoined
him: “If he will again carefully read the account of Junius, and not
forsake, out of his prejudice, all common sense, he will plainly see
himself, and be obliged to acknowledge, that Junius said not a single
word about the time of the invention.” Van der Linde, _The Haarlem
Legend_, p. 68.
[193] There has been much dispute concerning the functions of this
keeper. Junius says that this Lourens Janszoon was the keeper of a
church; that this keepership was an honorary office which belonged to
Coster’s family by hereditary right. The duties of the office seem
to have been those of a church trustee. Some writers say that this
custos was nothing more than a sexton, but it is of no moment whether
custos means sexton or trustee. The care with which Junius introduces
evidences of the respectability of Coster’s house and the dignity
of his family implies his fear that there might be, on the part of
a heedless reader, some doubt concerning the social position of a
custos. Nothing is said of the ancestors of Coster. Probably, there
was reason for this omission. Coster’s distinction in Haarlem was not
that of patrician blood. His wealth was not, so far as we can learn,
derived from any inheritance, nor could it have been acquired through
the emoluments of a custos, which was an honorary but not a lucrative
office. He had been engaged in some occupation which Junius considered
derogatory to his dignity. Of this occupation we shall hear more
hereafter.
[194] The assurances of his wealth, leisure and respectability seem
to have been provoked by the published statements, with which Junius
was familiar, that Gutenberg, the rival German inventor, was of noble
birth. It is not the only instance in which the Dutch legend is the
echo of the German history. The first coincidence is that Coster,
like Fust, was indebted to his son-in-law for valuable assistance in
perfecting typography. And both sons-in-law were named Peter.
[195] If Junius had not said that Coster changed the characters of wood
for letters of lead and of tin, and that the false workman was expert
in composing letters and in founding types, there might be some doubt
whether these characters of wood were made disconnected or conjoined.
His language is obscure, for he has used the words form and character
as the equivalent of type, where these words could be applied with
equal propriety to a letter engraved on a block. This obscurity was
not caused by the poverty of the Latin language, for he afterward
described types with clearness. There was obviously some confusion in
the mind of Junius. It is not certain that he clearly understood the
broad difference between typography and xylography; it is certain that
he intended to convey the idea that Coster was the inventor of printing
in its broadest sense—the inventor of printing from blocks as well as
from movable types. The absurdity of this broad claim must be obvious
to all who have read about early image prints and playing cards and the
printed fabrics of Italy and Sicily.
[196] The wine-flagons of Thomaszoon may have had some features which
carried conviction to the observer of the seventeenth century, but the
modern reader of the story will fail to see that they should have been
made of worn-out types. But the tin wine-flagons and the noticeable
house on the market-place are not to be despised. Useless as proofs of
the credibility of the legend of Junius, they illustrate to some extent
the pedigree of the Coster family, a pedigree with which Junius was
well acquainted, but for which he could find no place in his legend.
These wine-flagons were the pewter pots of a tavern about a century old.
[197] There were many Johns among the early printers of Mentz: John
Fust, John Gutenberg, John Petersheim, John Meydenbach. When it was
thought proper to acquit Fust of this accusation, John Gutenberg was
selected as the man; but the discovery of records which proved that
Gutenberg was making experiments in typography at Strasburg during the
year 1436, compelled the withdrawal also of this accusation. Meerman,
with a skill in casuistry equal to the occasion, then undertook to
prove that there were two Gutenbergs—brothers, but with different
surnames—Johan Gensfleisch, the elder, and Johan Gutenberg, the
younger; and that it was the elder brother who betrayed Coster and
revealed the secret to John Gutenberg. It was a weak artifice. German
historians have fully proved that Gutenberg’s brother Frielo had
nothing to do with typography; that John Gensfleisch, the elder, was an
uncle, not a brother,—old, rich and blind—of all men, most incapable of
any attempt at the purloining or practising of an intricate art like
printing. There is no evidence to inculpate Petersheim or Meydenbach.
[198] The story of theft is not only improbable, but it is unsupported
by external evidence. Jacobus Koning, a diligent searcher in the
archives of Haarlem, discovered that, on and after Christmas day, 1440,
the constabulary of Haarlem were often sent to Amsterdam upon important
business. The inference attempted is that the constables were in search
of the workman who stole Coster’s implements. The records do not say
that they were sent for a thief. Their business was of another nature.
There had been a great mortality in Haarlem, and the officers of the
town had left it while the pestilence was raging. The journeys of the
constables were made to the temporary residences of the magistrates
who, from a more healthy city, sent directions for the government of
the town. Koning knew this fact but suppressed it.
The accusation of unfair practice, is frequently made by men who
have been defeated in a fair contest. Whenever such an accusation
is accompanied, as it was in this instance, with dramatic details,
it effects a lodgment in the popular belief, from which it is not
easily removed. Junius was not the first, nor the last, to use this
discreditable but effective method of making-up a case. There is an
old French record which narrates how Nicholas Jenson was sent from
Paris to Mentz in the year 1458 to get a knowledge of the German
invention. Jenson did acquire this knowledge, and became an eminent
printer. His detractors say that he stole the secret; his eulogists
say that he learned nothing, that he was the real inventor.—The story
of Richard Atkyns about the English theft is too full of absurdities
for criticism.—Sometime between 1520 and 1570, Daniel Specklin wrote a
chronicle of Strasburg, in which he relates that printing was invented
at that city in the year 1440, by John Mentel; that Mentel’s unfaithful
servant, one John Gensfleisch, stole the secret, not the punches, and
took it to Mentz.—There is a popular legend in Italy that Pamphilo
Castaldi invented printing types at Feltre in the year 1450; that John
Fust, who happened to be in the town, abstracted the knowledge of the
invention, carried it to Mentz, and arrogated all the honors of the
rightful inventor.
[199] It was on the inner cover or binding of this account book that
the fragment of a typographical _Donatus_ was found. See page 259.
[200] Lambinet had reason to speak of the aged witnesses, Cornelis,
Gallius and Talesius, as “walking and talking centuries.” Van der Linde
characteristically describes the story of Junius as “a story in which
all the authorities hear the principal facts in their infancy, but only
to communicate them to each other in their second childhood.”
[201] Erasmus says: “All those who apply themselves to the sciences
are under no small obligations toward the excellent town of Mentz, on
account of the excellent and almost divine invention of printing books
with tin letters, which, as they assure us, was born there.”
[202] To satisfy these doubts, and to bridge the chasm between
Coster of 1440 and Bellaert of 1483, Meerman undertook to show that
Coster’s three grandsons, Peter, Andrew and Thomas, continued the
practice of typography and printed many small works. Dr. De Vries
maintained that “there was after Coster’s death, until about 1470, an
uninterrupted, carefully concealed practice of printing. . . . That
there existed in Holland for many years a seminary of the practicers
of the art is confirmed by many and strong evidences.” But De Vries
offers conjectures for evidences. History is silent about the printing
office that was conducted by the sons of Coster. This office and these
printers were really created by Meerman to fill a disagreeable gap in
the story of Junius—a gap not seen by any of his numerous commentators
from Scriverius to Seiz. There is no book that bears their names;
there is no record that mentions them as printers; there is not even a
tradition that they had anything to do with printing. If their names
had not appeared upon the pedigree of Gerrit Thomaszoon, we should
know nothing of them. The typographical successors of Coster are as
fictitious as their progenitor.
[203] Wolf, _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. 1, pp. 193 and 621.
[204] _Laurecrans voor Laurens Coster von Haarlem, eerste Vinder von
de Boeck-druckery, etc._ Haarlem, 1628. Reprinted in Dutch, with
description in Latin, in Wolf’s _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. 1, pp.
209–451. The poetry of Scriverius is as whimsical as his prose. Here is
his charge of theft against John Gutenberg:
Ah, rascal! ah, are you there? is it you Hans Gutenberger?
Why does this name become you? Yes, two-fold rascal, and worse!
Notorious by theft, oh shameless man!
This word is still too mild for your villainy.
Because you concealed Laurens’ good and carried it away,
And stole it falsely: so hear we now speak
Of Goedenbergher’s praise; however they disguise it,
By the Goeden-berg they betray the Guyten-(rogue)berg.
[205] Condensed from Hessels’ translation in _Haarlem Legend_, p.
113–14.
[206] Wolf, _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. 1, pp. 813–868.
[207] Seiz, _Annus Tertius Sæculoris Inventæ Artis, etc._ Haarlem, 1742.
[208] Condensed from Hessels’ translation in _Haarlem Legend_, p. 123.
[209] John Enschedé then said that “Jansen Koster used no wooden
movable letters, as later, and still living scholars [Meerman]
assert—scholars who know nothing of the mechanism of type-founding—and
who, therefore, gently swerve from the path of simple truth.” Meerman’s
reason for rating this Dutch edition of the _Speculum_ as first of
all was the inferior appearance of the types and the printing, which
inferiority, he maintained, had been produced by wood types and want
of experience in presswork. Fournier told him truly that the types
of his alleged first edition were metal types; that the printing of
the book was inferior because the types were worn out; that his first
edition had all the signs of a last edition—but Meerman refused this
explanation.
[210] Dr. De Vries, the most eminent defender of the legend in this
century, said: “The work of the learned but not very judicious Meerman
had done more injury to the cause of Haarlem than the writings of all
other antagonists.”
[211] _Éclaircissemens sur l’histoire de l’invention de l’imprimerie._
1843.
[212] This Museum then contained, among other relics, copies of the
_Apocalypse_, the _Ars Moriendi_, the _Canticles_, the _Donatus_, the
_Speculum_, the _Temptations of Demons_, and other printed works that
have here been noticed in the chapter on The Works and Workmanship of
an Unknown Printer, most of which were claimed as the work of Coster’s
office. The wood block of the _Horarium_ (see page 260), some official
documents, some autographs of the sheriff Louwerijs Janszoon, a
picture said to be a likeness of Coster, several engravings of Coster
(curiously dissimilar, and one of which is an undeniable forgery), are
also contained in this Museum. Van der Linde denounced the Museum as a
municipal show-booth. _The Haarlem Legend_, p. 164.
[213] Gerrit Thomaszoon died about 1563 or 1564. In the year 1611,
the pedigree belonged to Adrien Rooman, the town printer at Haarlem.
At his death it fell into the hands of Dr. John Vlasveld. For nearly
two centuries it was unknown to the public. In 1809, it was sold
at auction, Jacobus Koning paying for it, and for an old wood-cut,
supposed to be the work of Coster, four hundred guilders.
[214] Van der Linde, _The Haarlem Legend of the Invention of Printing_,
p. 42. In the singular words “who brought the first print in the world”
we may find the cause of that mysterious indefiniteness of description
which may be observed in all the authorities. It is more than an
indication that the story of Junius is based on the pedigree and on
information derived from Thomaszoon and his friends.
[215] There is, of course, no reason why a chandler could not have
invented typography, but we have no evidence that this chandler
invented anything. Our knowledge of the tastes of the man, as shown in
his selection of a new business, is enough to prove that he was not at
all like the later chandler, Benjamin Franklin, with a leaning to types
and letters.
[216] The variable orthography of the name of Coster, which is here
copied literally from the records, is a sufficient explanation of the
irregularities in the spelling of his name which are to be found in all
the authorities. I have adopted the orthography as I find it in the
book of Van der Linde.
[217] The exact nature of the relationship between Laurens Janszoon
Coster and Gerrit Thomaszoon is not clearly defined, but the archives
of the town and the vellum pedigree corroborate each other in
establishing the existence—of Lourens Janszoon Coster (son of Jan
Coster), tallow chandler and innkeeper, who left Haarlem in 1483—of
Thomas Pieterszoon (probably the son-in-law of Coster), sheriff,
who died in 1492—of Gerrit Thomaszoon (according to the pedigree, a
great-great-grandson of Lourens Janszoon Coster), a sheriff and an
innkeeper. He was, also, a sacristan or church-warden.
[218] For this unwarrantable confusion of the names and deeds of the
two men Junius and Scriverius are responsible. Junius, who wrote in
Latin, caught at the word Coster, which he found in the pedigree, as
a subject for the display of his critical ability. He explains and
expounds it: “Lourens Janszoon, surnamed Coster, by reason of the
office which belonged to the family by hereditary right.” There was no
need for this absurd expansion of the meaning of the word _custos_.
This attribution of an honorable office to an insignificant man was
purposely made to give him a dignified position. Gerrit Thomaszoon, who
knew that Coster was a man of no note, gave him only the distinction
of the first printer. This was not enough for Junius, who thought
that he would be deficient in patriotism if he did not make Coster
as reputable as his rival Gutenberg, who was represented as of noble
blood. The word Coster was his opportunity, and he made the most of it.
It is not probable that Junius studied the archives of Haarlem for the
purpose of getting exact information about Coster, but it is possible
that he had read or heard of Lourens Janszoon, the wealthy man, and
that he confounded him with Coster, the chandler. Whether he made
this confusion with intent or in ignorance cannot now be ascertained,
but we can see that the wealth and respectability of Janszoon were
attributed to Coster. Scriverius perpetuated the blunder. He found a
document signed by Louwerijs Janszoon, as sheriff, in 1431. Without
further research, he leaped to the conclusion that this man who died in
1439, who had nothing in common with Coster but similarity of name and
similarity of occupation as innkeeper, was the very Lourens Janszoon
Coster who, according to Junius, invented types and practised printing
in 1440.
[219] Moxon’s copy of this engraving is shown on page 333 of this book.
[220] Van der Linde tells a curious story about Hollandish credulity:
The most amusing imitation was that of an amateur artist of the
last century, C. Van den Berg, who wished to play the collector J.
Marcus a trick. He engraved a small wood-cut after the portrait of
Van Campen, with the name _Laur’ Jassoe_, in old-fashioned style,
underneath. With a little soot and dirt, he gave the copies an
antique appearance, and made Marcus happy for a few weeks. The poet
Langendijk, the type-founder Enschedé, and other amateurs, each got a
copy. Van den Berg was too honest to mean anything more than fun; he
told afterward to Marcus himself the value of that antique wood-cut.
Although every investigator could and ought to have known these
things, yet Jacobus Koning was bold enough, in the second nomenclature
of his collection of rare books and manuscripts, to describe a copy of
this portrait as “_printed by_, or at the time of, Lourens Janszoon
Koster.” . . . . . . The Haarlem painter L. Van der Vinne, in his
youth, painted, in the beginning of the former century, a study, after
a drawing of Van Campen. But lo! in 1762, this picture is offered
for sale by Van Damme at Amsterdam (the same who produced the false
inscriptions respecting the imaginary Corsellis of Oxford), provided
at the back with a very old inscription, _Lours Jans to Harlem_
MCCCCXXXIII, and the monogram A O, which was explained to mean Albert
Van Oudewater. Excellent discovery! Here was a genuine contemporaneous
portrait by a painter of the fifteenth century! A trifle, however, was
wanted to make the joy perfect. Albert Van Oudewater, who had painted
the celebrated inventor of printing in 1433, was born in 1444! This
history is full of despairing irony from beginning to end. Just as
the sheriff Lourens Janszoon invents the art of printing _after his
death_; just as Cornelis works at _Donatuses before his birth_; just
as the chandler Lourens Janszoon Koster entirely forgets his invention
_during his lifetime_; so the painter Albert Van Oudewater becomes a
zealous Costerian “_long before he was born_.” Van der Linde, _The
Haarlem Legend_, p. 145.
[221] The striking dissimilarity between the calm philosophic face of
the Coster of Meerman and the sour look and misanthropic features of
the Coster of Scriverius is neatly explained by Dr. Abr. De Vries:
The portrait given by Scriverius was painted from a sketch or
study made after Coster’s death, and was, necessarily, gloomy and
cadaverous; but no portrait, however beautiful, unless it was a true
and genuine likeness, could satisfy the truth-loving Scriverius. The
truth was to be well founded if he endorsed it. The cadaverous hue and
the marks of death in Van Campen’s picture are strong evidences for
the genuineness and faithfulness both of the original representation
and of Van Campen’s copy!
[222] In Holland, Dr. Van der Linde’s book has been denounced as
impolitic and unpatriotic, but it has not, as yet, met with a suitable
answer. The indignation manifested toward the author has been so
violent that he, a native Hollander, has found it expedient to remove
to Germany.
[223] The only positive evidence which seems to give a color of
probability to the assertion that typography was first practised in the
Netherlands is the fact that an unknown printer had printed there some
little books before the arrival of Ketelaer and De Leempt, in 1473.
Whoever this printer may have been, it still remains to be proved that
he did any typographic work before 1463.
[224] There is no known authentic autograph of Gutenberg. In his
day the name was written by other persons, Guttemburg, Gudenburch,
Goodenberger, Guthembergius, Gudenbergh, Kuttenberg, and in many
other ways. The form of spelling used in this book is the one that is
preferred by the German bibliographers. Gensfleisch, in German, is
goose-flesh; Gutenberg is good hill.
[225] Bodmann, a librarian at Mentz, said that he had discovered two
old documents which set forth that Gutenberg had a brother, Conrad, and
two sisters, Hebele and Bertha. Helbig says that these documents, as
reprinted by Fischer, are spurious.
[226] It seems that Else Gutenberg was the last surviving member of her
family. According to a German custom prevailing at that time, a son
was, under certain circumstances, permitted to take the name of his
mother when it was feared that her family name might become extinct.
[227] The name of the brother of Frielo Gensfleisch, senior, was John
Gensfleisch, senior. He is the man improperly described by Meerman as
the elder brother of John Gutenberg. The identity of his baptismal name
with that of the inventor of printing has been the occasion of many
mistakes. The uncle has been confounded with the nephew. The family
was wealthy: it had, in or near Mentz, three houses or estates, known
as Zum Gudenberg, Zum Jungen and Zum Gensfleisch. The members of the
family were sometimes called Sulgeloch or Sorgenloch, from a property
on which they resided outside of Mentz.
[228] This is the version of chroniclers in the interest of the nobles.
The childish dispute about precedence seems an insufficient cause for
the quarrel. It was, probably, the occasion, but not the cause. It was
the spark which set on fire the stifled resentment of the burghers
against a long course of neglect and of misgovernment. The Gensfleisch
families seem to have been always prominent in the civil disturbances
of Mentz. Gutenberg’s great-great grandfather took sides with one
of the rival archbishops, and, in 1332, aided him in burning some
convents, for which he was put under ban by the Emperor Louis. In the
same year, he and other noblemen made themselves so offensive to the
burghers that they were obliged to flee for their lives.
[229] Charles Winaricky, a learned Bohemian, wrote a dissertation on
the birthplace of Gutenberg—_Jean Guttenberg, né en 1412 a Kuttenberg
en Bohème_, 12mo. Brussels, 1847—in which he tried to prove: that
Gutenberg was born in the year 1412, in the town of Kuttenberg in
Bohemia, from which town he derived his name; that he was a graduate
of the university of Prague; that he acquired his knowledge of
metallurgy from the metal workers of that old mining town; and that
his proficiency in many curious arts was the result of his Bohemian
education. Winaricky’s book abounds with curious information, but
his reasoning is largely based on conjecture. It cannot be used to
discredit the positive dates and facts of many German records.
[230] This is the form of complaint: “I, Johan Gensfleisch, the
younger, also called Gutenberg, declare by this letter, that the
worshipful sage burgomaster and the council of the town of Mentz owe
me every year a certain interest, according to the contents of letters
which contain, among other things, that, if they do not pay me, I am at
liberty to seize and imprison them. As I have now to claim much rent in
arrears from the said town, which they were hitherto not able to pay
me, I caused M. Nicolaus, secretary of Mentz, to be seized, whereupon
he promised me and swore to give me 310 valid Rguilders, to be paid at
Oppenheim, before the following Whitsuntide. I acknowledge, by this
letter, that the burgomaster and council of Strasburg have induced me
to relieve of my own free will, in honor and love of them, the said
M. Nicolaus from his imprisonment, and from the payment of the 310
guilders. Given on Sunday (12th of March), 1434.”
The ease with which Gutenberg relinquishes his monetary claim, and
which at once shows him to be a better knight than financier, exhibits
a trait of character which explains much in his later fate. Van der
Linde, _Haarlem Legend_, p. 13.
[231] For more than three hundred years this important document,
with other records of the courts of Strasburg, rested unknown and
undisturbed in the old tower _Pfennigthurm_, in which place it was
discovered by Wenkler, the keeper of the records. He communicated
this fact to Schoepflin, who, perceiving its value, made it the great
feature of the _Vindiciæ Typographicæ_. The record is imperfect, for
it does not contain all the testimony of all the witnesses. Whether
this deficiency is due to the neglect of the recorder, or to the decay
or mutilation of the record, has not been fully explained. Schoepflin,
who says it is written in an almost obsolete German dialect hard to
be understood, reprinted it in full, accompanied with a translation
in Latin, which has been censured as inaccurate. Dr. Dibdin, and a
few carping bibliographers, who looked with disfavor on all newly
discovered documents which obliged them to revise their own theories,
have tried to throw discredit on this record, but its authenticity
is now recognized as beyond controversy. The records were placed in
the Library of Strasburg for safety, but they were destroyed by the
Prussians during the siege of that city in 1870.
[232] Conventionally used for I.
[233] The eighteen witnesses were Master Hirtz, Jacob Imerle, Midhart
Honöwe, Heinrich Bisinger, Wilhelm von Schutter, the wife of Lorentz
Beildick, M. Jerge Saltzmütter, Stösser Nese von Ehenheim, Martin
Verwer, Henrich Seidenneger, M. Gosse Sturm, of Saint Arbogastus, Hans
Ross, the goldsmith, and his wife, Andrew Heilmann, Claus Heilmann,
Heinrich Olse, Hans Riffe and Johan Dritzehen. Their testimony is not
on the record. It is unfortunate that we have lost the testimony of
M. Gosse Sturm, of Saint Arbogastus, and Ross, the goldsmith. It is
probable that these men, who had intimate relations with Gutenberg,
could have described this secret art with greater clearness.
[234] After the development of the towns, all members of the nobility
did not seek their occupation exclusively in deeds of knighthood.
Industry, art, and the refinement of town life gradually superseded the
warlike spirit of the nobility, to whom the town offered distinguished
dignities and situations, while enterprises of commerce and industry
gave them distinction and riches. The privilege of coining money,
especially, was often farmed out to an association of ancient
families. At Mentz this association consisted of twelve families
(Münzer-Hausgenossen), among whom was also the family of Gensfleisch.
They possessed, moreover, the privileges of the valuation of coin,
of the assize of weights and measures, or offices for the exchange
of money and of the sale of gold and silver staves to the mint. Such
employment brought them chiefly in connection with the goldsmiths,
whose work consisted, at that time, of one of the most considerable
trades, which comprised mechanics and chemistry, nay, the whole
dominion of plastic and graphic art, in its application to metals,
whether separate or in conjunction with diamonds and other precious
materials. They were mostly patricians who established powder-mills,
paper-mills and similar new manufactories. Van der Linde, _Haarlem
Legend_, p. 17.
[235] Glass mirrors, almost unknown in the fourteenth century, were
regarded as novelties in the fifteenth. It seems that they were first
made in Germany. Winaricky lays great stress on the fact that the
Bohemians were the earliest and the most skillful workers in glass, and
that they also excelled as lapidaries and metallurgists. He says, but
without proof, that the art of polishing stones and making mirrors was
acquired by Gutenberg in Bohemia. The learned Beckmann says that
“Early German mirrors were made by pouring melted lead or tin over a
glass plate while yet hot as it came from the furnace. In and around
Nuremberg, convex mirrors were made by blowing with the pipe in the
glass bubble while it was still hot a metallic mixture with a little
salts of tartar. When the bubble had been covered and cooled, it was
cut in small round mirrors. These small convex mirrors were called
_ochsenaugen_, or ox-eyes. They were set in a round board, and had a
very broad border or margin. One of them in my possession is two and
a half inches in diameter. . . . This art is an old German invention,
for it is described by Porta and Ganzoni, who both lived in the
beginning of the sixteenth century, and who both expressly say that
the art was then common in Germany. Curious foreigners often attempted
to learn it, and imagined that Germans kept it a secret.”
[236] The most common prejudice is the supposition, _à priori_,
legitimated strictly scientifically by nothing, that printing with
movable types was only an improvement on that with wooden blocks
on which the letters were cut; that it was a development of it, an
extension, a fortunate application, the highest step of the ladder,
consisting of playing cards, images of saints, pictures with super, sub
and other scriptions, texts without pictures. In short, xylography, in
a technical, logical and reformatorical sense, would be the mother of
typography. But it is such only in the sense of an external impulse, of
an external push to meditating on quite _another_ means than wood or
metal engraving, or _another_ mode of obtaining books. Zell finds that
push in the block-Donatuses, but the inspiration of genius, the first
invention of a quite independent art, of a totally new principle, which
has nothing in common with wood and metal engraving, he ascribes . . .
to Gutenberg. In Gutenberg’s mind, the grand idea arose that all words,
all writing, all language, all human thoughts, could be expressed by a
small number, a score of different letters, arranged according to the
requirements; that, with a large quantity of those different letters,
united as one whole, a whole page of text could be printed at once,
and, repeating this process continually, large manuscripts could be
swiftly multiplied. . . . This thought, this idea, begot the invention
of typography. . . . Every other explanation is at once unhistorical
and unpsychological. _Haarlem Legend_, p. 11.
[237] Wolf, _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. I, p. 586.
[238] See page 315 of this book. The chronicler is in error in
specifying Mentz as the place where the art was discovered, but the
specification of the period between 1440 and 1450 as that in which “the
art was being investigated” by John Gutenberg is sustained by other
testimonies.
[239] The pilgrimage to ancient Aix-la-Chapelle took place every
seventh year, and, commencing on the 10th of July, lasted fourteen
days, during which time the ordinary service in the church did not
take place, but a free market was held. The concourse of people was
uncommonly great on that occasion, so that, for instance in the year
1496, 142,000 pilgrims were counted in the town, and 80,000 guilders
in the offering boxes on one day. Aix-la-Chapelle possessed relics of
the first rank, as the swaddling-clothes of Christ, his body-cloth at
the Crucifixion, the dress worn by Mary at his birth, and the cloth
on which St. John the Baptist was beheaded. Van der Linde, _Haarlem
Legend_, p. 18.
[240] There is no evidence that Gutenberg had been taught xylography,
or any of the many branches of book-making. He was not, for that
reason, incompetent to invent an entirely new branch. The history of
great inventions shows that many inventors never received a thorough
technical instruction in the arts or trades which they undertook
to reconstruct. Jacquard, inventor of the automatic loom, was, in
his boyhood, a bookbinder and a type-founder. Arkwright, inventor
of the spinning jenny, was a barber until he was thirty years of
age. Stephenson, inventor of the locomotive, tended a steam boiler,
but had not served time as a machinist nor as a carriage-builder.
Fulton, inventor of the steamboat, was not a sailor, machinist nor
ship-builder. Morse, inventor of the electric telegraph, was an artist,
not a mechanician, nor even a man of science. Koning, inventor of the
cylinder printing machine, was not a printer. The greatest inventions
have been made by men not within, but without, the arts they improved.
It would seem that a thorough technical education in any art or trade
cramps the inventive faculties, disqualifying the expert from making
any attempt at radical changes, permitting him to attempt improvement
in the details only.
[241] Some authors will not admit that Gutenberg derived any benefit
from xylography. Bernard treats block-printing as an art so paltry,
that he refused to describe the block-books, or to admit that
xylography had any noticeable influence, direct or indirect, on the
invention of types. Van der Linde says that history knows nothing of
Gutenberg as a xylographer—that there is no documentary evidence that
he ever cut or printed a block. These disclaimers—obviously provoked
by the absurd statements of other authors that Gutenberg invented
xylography, that he printed with types of wood, that typography
is the natural outgrowth of xylography—cannot be accepted without
qualification. The fact remains that Gutenberg, his associates and
pupils, were benefited by the highest technical skill of that time
in all the processes of engraving in relief, in the compounding of
inks, in the construction and use of presses, and in the manipulation
of paper. Compared with the invention of the type-mould, these may
seem trivial matters, but the success of Gutenberg’s new ideas
about printing depended upon his attention to every process that
promised aid. It is not probable that the man who hired joiners and
goldsmiths could have neglected to avail himself of whatever skill the
block-printers possessed. The experience in printing acquired by the
block-printers was far from contemptible, but the educating influences
they had exerted over the book-buying public were of great importance.
It was Gutenberg’s discernment of the fact that the block-printers
had created a demand for printed work which could never be satisfied
by the method of xylography, which gave him the impulse to seek for a
more scientific method. Block-printing, although in no sense the mother
of typography, was its forerunner, and for that reason alone demands
respectful consideration.
[242] This passage has been translated by Ottley: Gutenberg sent “to
fetch all the forms that they might be loosened, and that he might
see it [done], and that the joinings of some of the four pieces
might be renewed.” This translation makes the action of Gutenberg
unintelligible. Bernard’s translation is: “Gutenberg sent to get the
forms, so that he could be sure that they had been separated; these
forms had given him a great deal of solicitude.” This is obviously a
very free and evasive translation. Wetter, who interprets the passage
as descriptive of block-printing, says that “the words are too obscure
for us to infer anything definite from them. We are in no case to
understand by the word _formen_ separate letters, but whole blocks.”
This is an unwarrantable assumption, and in contradiction to the
statement that the forms were melted. Van der Linde says that “the
words are plain. Translators have stopped at the words _zurlossen_ and
_ruwete_. _Zurlossen_, or _zerlassen_, means melting, and ruwete is
dialect for _reuete_, repented.”
[243] The commonest meaning of the word form, in most European
languages, is a shape or figure prepared by carving; but it has also
been applied, colloquially, to the mould made from this carved shape,
and also to the article made from the mould. A type-founder’s punch is
the form of a letter; the mould in which the type is cast is the form
or former of the letter; the types prepared for printing are also known
as the form. On a future page it will be shown that the word _formen_
as used in the trial, was also used at a later date to describe the
most important tools in Gutenberg’s printing office at Eltvill.
[244] Here we may recall the surprise of Madame Zabern at the cost of
the work. She would not have hazarded the low estimate of ten guilders,
if Dritzehen had been surrounded by many types or printed sheets.
The only tools appertaining to typography, which have a value out of
all proportion to their apparent cost, are the punches, matrices and
moulds. The modern inexpert would underrate the value of a similar
collection as grossly as did Madame Zabern.
[245] It could not have been four pages of metal types, for types
disconnected and put in disorder, in or under the press, would have
betrayed the secret almost as plainly as if they had been in order.
Nor could it have been any attachment to a press like the frisket or
tympan. It is impossible to name any jointed or buttoned tool of four
pieces, connected with composition or presswork, which would suggest to
an inexpert the secret of typography.
[246] Bernard gives this form of type-mould a passing notice. He says:
M. de Berny showed me one of these primitive mechanisms in his own
foundry. This mould, which is still [1853] in use, is constructed with
two kinds of knees [or squares] enabling the type-maker to adjust it
in various ways so as to cast any body desired. _De l’origine_, etc.
vol. I, p. 44, note.
[247] The inability to produce any book printed by Gutenberg at
Strasburg was the occasion of the following pithy answer: Koch had
asserted before the Institute, that Strasburg was the cradle of
printing. Schaab interrupted him, “Yes, but it is a cradle without a
baby.”
[248] Schaab says that there is on record in Mentz a document which
proves that John Gensfleisch leased this house in October, 1443.
Reasoning from the two disconnected facts, that this house was used
by Gutenberg for a printing office, and that it had been leased
by Gensfleisch in 1443, careless readers have assumed that John
Gensfleisch was the first printer in Mentz, and that he was either
the true inventor of printing, or the unfaithful workman who stole
the invention of Coster or of Mentel. It is not necessary to repeat
what has been written concerning the impossibility of a theft from the
fictitious Coster, nor about the absurdity of representing the uncle as
a printer.
[249] Fischer, _Essai sur les monuments typographiques_, p. 70.
[250] Bernard refuses this statement. He says that the fragments of
other editions of the _Donatus_ in this type, supposed to be of the
same period, which he inspected in the British Museum, show ink that is
permanent.
[251] The text letters are of the form known to librarians as _lettres
de somme_, or letters of account, which may be understood as the
carelessly made letters then used in books of account. The letters of
the large lines are of the form known as _lettres de forme_, or letters
of precision, the angular and carefully made letters of fine books. The
_lettres de somme_ will be defined in this book under the name of Round
Gothic; the _lettres de forme_, under the name of Pointed Gothic.
[252] Deceived by the close fitting-up of the matrices, earlier writers
said that the letters were xylographic. The comments of Dr. Van der
Linde on this error are pertinent:
. . . . It was thought necessary to find the wooden letters of the
imagination, and hence bibliography presents the dismal spectacle
that almost all monuments of the excellent invention, that fruit of
a vigorous mind, of a simple, but ample and grand idea, have been
declared by would-be connoisseurs one by one to be xylographic. This
caused the double trouble of first making out, with much verbosity and
an air of perspicuity, incontrovertibly typographical masterpieces to
be wood, and then afterward putting aside this pedantry and returning
to the simple truth. The origin of typography presents nowhere
anything narrow-minded, worthless, or trifling, for it belongs to the
_grand_ facts of history, but trifling minds have soiled it with their
own littleness. _Haarlem Legend_, p. 77.
[253] It is possible that other books, now lost and forgotten, may
have been printed in the small types, but Helbig thinks that the types
were made expressly for the _Letters of Indulgence_, as bank-notes are
now made, with the intention that the copies of each edition should
be exactly alike in appearance, and that they should be difficult
of imitation. Bernard dissents from the belief that the _Letters of
Indulgence_ were printed by Gutenberg. He attributes them to some
printer of unknown name in Mentz, supposed by him to have been either
the false workman described by Junius, or some graduate or seceding
malcontent of Gutenberg’s printing office. But we have no evidence
of a typographical printer before Gutenberg. Jäck has endeavored to
prove that two _Letters_ were printed by Pfister of Bamberg. De la
Borde thinks one of the faces of type used in the _Letters_ was cut by
Schœffer in a friendly competition with Gutenberg. These conjectures
cannot be made plausible.
[254] It is sometimes described as the _Mazarin Bible_, and sometimes
as _Gutenberg’s First Bible_.
[255] This is known as the _Bamberg Bible_, because nearly all the
known copies of this edition were found in the neighborhood of the
town of Bamberg; as _Pfister’s Bible_, because it has been attributed,
incorrectly, to Albert Pfister, a printer of Bamberg; as the _Schelhorn
Bible_, because it was fully described by the bibliographer of that
name; as _Gutenberg’s Second Bible_, because it is the belief of many
authors that it should have been printed by Gutenberg about 1459, after
his rupture with John Fust.
[256] Bernard, _De l’origine et des debuts de l’imprimerie_, vol. II,
p. 30.
[257] In the year of our Lord 1450, they began to print, and the first
book they printed was the _Bible_ in Latin: it was printed in a large
letter, resembling the letter with which, at present, missals are
printed. _Cologne Chronicle_ of 1499.
[258] In the first essays of printing, great difficulties were
encountered. For when they [the first printers] were printing the
Bible, they were obliged to expend more than four thousand florins
before they had printed three sections. Trithemius, as reprinted by
Wolf, _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. II, p. 654.
[259] These evidences, which seem to favor the theory of the priority
of the _Bible of 36 lines_, combine many features of probability,
but they are not free from objections. Too little is known about the
book to warrant a positive statement as to its age. In nearly all the
popular treatises on printing, the _Bible of 42_ lines is specified as
the first book of Gutenberg, but it is the belief of many of the most
learned bibliographers, from Zapf to Didot and Madden, that the _Bible
of 36 lines_ is the older edition. The theory that it must have been
printed by Gutenberg between 1457 and 1459, and the proposition that
it may have been printed by Albert Pfister of Bamberg at or soon after
that time, will be examined on an advanced page.
[260] His name is often improperly written as Faust. In all the
books subsequently printed by Fust and his partner, Schœffer, the
name appears as Fust. It was so written and printed by all his
contemporaries, and is so seen, wherever it occurs, in the record of
the famous trial he instituted. It is so spelt in the church record of
his burial. During his lifetime, and for at least thirty years after
his death, the name is always given as Fust. The notorious reputation
subsequently made by Dr. John Faust, who was born in Wurtemberg in 1480
(several years after the death of Fust), who studied magic in Cracow,
and, by his learning and wickedness, horrified wise men like Luther
and Melancthon; whose life, deeds and death are involved in a mystery
that dramatists have turned to such good account, has been transferred
by carelessness to John Fust, the printer. The confusion has been
perpetuated by a legend. The fable, not yet weeded out of treatises on
printing, that Fust was arrested in Paris for selling bibles, supposed
to have been manufactured at the instigation of the devil, has served
to foster the error.
[261] Those who favor this view of Fust’s character, find a peculiar
significance in the radical meaning of his name, Fust—in German, fist,
the symbol of all that is hard, close, grasping, and aggressive.
[262] These were the terms of the contract, made in August, 1450:
The partnership between Gutenberg and Fust should be for five years,
in which time the work projected by Gutenberg should be completed.—For
the purposes of this partnership, not specified, Fust should advance
to Gutenberg 800 guilders, at 6 per cent. interest. The tools
and materials made by Gutenberg for the uses of the partnership
should remain mortgaged to Fust, as security for this loan of 800
guilders, until the whole sum should be paid.—When the aforesaid
tools and materials should be made, Fust should, every year, furnish
Gutenberg with 300 guilders to provide for the payment of the paper,
vellum, ink, wages and the other materials that would be required
for the execution of the work.—For these advances Fust should have
one-half of the profits made from the sale of the products of the
partnership.—Fust should be exempted from the performance of any work
or service connected with the partnership, and should not be held
responsible for any of its debts.
[263] There are two kinds of copies, with differences which seem to
justify the opinion that they belong to two distinct editions. In one
kind, all the copies have 42 lines to the column, and all the summaries
of chapters are written and not printed. In the other kind, the first
eight pages of the first section have 40 lines to the column; the ninth
page has 41 lines; the tenth and all other pages (except two 40-line
pages in the book of _Maccabees_) have 42 lines; and the pages of 40
and 41 lines have their five summaries printed in red ink. The same
face of type is used in both kinds of copies, but the pages of 40 and
41 lines occupy the same space as the pages of 42 lines, begining and
ending, for the most part, with the same words. Bernard says that the
40-line pages were reset by Peter Schœffer after Fust had acquired
the unsold copies of the _Bible_, with intent to lead the purchaser
of the book to form the belief that it was an entirely new edition.
Other writers suggest that a portion of the first section may have been
spoiled, and replaced by a subsequent reprinting. But the differences
are not confined to the first section. In many other sections there are
differences in the spelling and abbreviation of words which clearly
prove that the two kinds of copies were printed from separately
composed and distinct forms. The double composition of every page for
the same edition seems a ridiculous waste of labor, but the proofs of
this double labor are unmistakable.
[264] Bernard says that over-colored and under-colored pages are by no
means rare. He attributes this unequal blackness to imperfections in
the inking implements. _De l’origine de l’imprimerie_, vol. I, p. 182.
[265] See the fac-similes of Sotheby and Humphreys. The written
summaries of this Bible, as they present them, are unlike the printed
text.
[266] At the sale of the Perkins library near London, June 6, 1873, a
copy of the _Bible of 42 lines_, on vellum, was sold for £3,400, and a
copy on paper for £2,690—more than the first printers got for all the
copies.
[267] Hessels’ translation, as printed in the _Haarlem Legend_, pp. 24
and 25.
[268] Philip de Lignamine, in a book entitled _A Continuation of the
Chronicles of the Popes_, which he printed in Rome in 1474, writes
concerning the year 1458: “Jacob Gutenberg of Strasburg, and another
called Fust, very skillful in the art of printing with characters of
metal on parchment, each printed three hundred leaves daily at Mentz.”
Jacob is an error of memory or of typography, and the mention of
Strasburg as Gutenberg’s birthplace is incorrect, but the statement
that he printed in 1458 is, no doubt, true. It seems the testimony of
a printer, whose knowledge of the facts had been derived either from
personal observation, or from the reports of workmen once employed at
Mentz.
[269] This _Catholicon_ was written, or edited, as the title informs
us, by John of Genoa, of the fraternity of preachers, or mendicant
friars. It contains an elaborate Latin grammar and an etymological
dictionary in five divisions. It was a text book of authority in the
higher schools.
[270] Van Praet says that Gutenberg, as a noble, dared not advertise
his connection with a mechanical art. This is absurd, for Gutenberg’s
connection with printing in Mentz had been known for at least ten
years, and printing was not then regarded as a business derogatory to
the standing of a noble. Wetter says that Gutenberg was humiliated
by the superior workmanship of Fust and Schœffer. But the work of
these printers was not of such unquestionable superiority. Helbig’s
conjecture seems most plausible, but Gutenberg may have been so intent
on the personal satisfaction he derived from the realization of his
ideas, that he was comparatively indifferent to the gratification
derived from notoriety.
[271] In Germany, the punch or the model letter is known as the
_patrice_, a word obviously derived from the root of the Latin
_patronarum_ of the text. The reversed duplicates of punches, here
translated as matrices, are noticed in the text as _formarum_, a
variation of the word form, which we find so often in the record of the
Strasburg trial. “The admirable proportion, harmony and connection of
the punches and matrices,” should be understood, not as a commendation
of the beauty of the printed letters, but as a specification by the
inventor of what he conceived was the great feature of typography, the
making of types of different faces and thickness on bodies of absolute
uniformity, so that they could be combined with ease. It should be
noticed that the invention or the use of isolated letters or types
is not boasted of; it was the method of making the types which the
inventor regarded as the most admirable feature of his invention.
[272] This work is attributed to Gutenberg, chiefly on the authority of
this inscription, which was found in a copy in the possession of the
Carthusian Friars at Mentz:
The Carthusian Friars near Mentz, through the liberality of John
Gutenberg, own this book, which was made by his wonderful art, and by
the skill of John Nummeister, clerk. In the year of our Lord 1463, on
the 13th calend of July [June 19].
Helbig doubts the genuineness of this annotation, and intimates that
it may be the work of Bodmann, a librarian at Mentz, who has been
suspected of attempts to foist spurious documents on those who were
eager to know more of the life and labors of Gutenberg. In his treatise
on the _Typographic Monuments of Gutenberg_, Fischer, on the authority
of Bodmann, printed the copy of a verbose document which set forth that
John Gutenberg and Frielo Gensfleisch assented to the action of their
sister Hebele in conveying to the Convent of Saint Clare, of which she
was then a nun, her share in the paternal inheritance. It also recites
that John Gutenberg will give to the convent a copy of every book to be
printed by him. This document, which is dated 1459, is not accepted as
genuine by discreet bibliographers.
[273] Bernard says that some of these works were probably printed by
an unknown printer at Mentz (not the printer of the _Indulgence of
31 lines_); but this conjecture of two printing offices, about which
history and tradition are silent, which never produced any work of
value, cannot be accepted.
[274] A copy of this book in the National Library at Paris has an
annotation which sets forth that “Henry Kepfer of Mentz put this book
in pledge for twelve days, and has not reclaimed it. . . .” Henry
Kepfer was one of Gutenberg’s workmen who appeared for him on the trial.
[275] Fischer says that a library at Mentz once contained several
pamphlets printed by Gutenberg in the large types of the _Bible of 36
lines_. He gives fac-similes of the illuminated initials in one of
these pamphlets, which closely resemble those of the _Psalter of 1457_.
This similarity is more than an indication that the letters of this
_Psalter_ were made by Gutenberg.
[276] In the tenth and eleventh centuries, Mentz, then the capital of
Germany, contained a population of about 100,000 inhabitants. It was
the most powerful city of the empire, the great city where the emperors
were crowned. In the fourteenth century, it was so strong that it could
send out of its walls 10,000 armed citizens to destroy the strongholds
of the noble robbers who had ravaged its commerce.
[277] Helbig says that all the larger houses that had not been
destroyed by fire were confiscated. The booty was divided in three
parts: Adolph took the first and the best part, the nobles of his army
claimed the second; the soldiers, “a band of mercenary savages,” took
the remainder. _Notes et dissertations_, p. 52.
[278] Hessels’ translation.
[279] Schaab says that an aristocratic appointment at the court
procured this nobleman a comfortable life. Voluntarily he followed the
princely court, where he had a free table and fodder for his horses.
Even for his dress he received cloth in the court colors, and generally
wore a kind of mantle, called Tabard. It was in accordance with the
morals of that time to carouse at court. They went there with empty
cups and returned with full ones. The princes tried not before the
sixteenth century to put a check to this excess by special orders. The
elector Johan Schweikard von Kronenberg ordered, even in the year 1605,
to leave the _grossen Saumagen_—this was the name of the cups then
used—for the future at home . . . . However comfortable and German-like
all this may look, miserable were these court-wages, this dress, these
alms presented to the inventor of typography. But no, it is perfectly
in harmony with the general course of earthly things. Van der Linde,
_Haarlem Legend_, p. 29.
[280] Henry Bechtermüntz had died before the book was finished.
[281] The _Vocabularium ex quo_ was reprinted by Nicholas Bechtermüntz,
in the same types and in the same form, in the years 1469, 1472, and
1477. Only one copy is known of the first edition of the book.
[282] From the preface to a curious and little-known poem entitled
_Encomion Chalcographiæ_, by Arnold Bergellanus, as reprinted by Wolf
in his _Monumenta Typographica_, vol. I, p. 5.
[283] It appears from this, that Humery, who owned the printing office,
had neglected to properly record or establish his title. It was through
the grace of the archbishop, who understood the matter, that he was
spared the trouble of re-establishing his right by legal process.
[284] One day when I was reading this interesting passage [of Bodmann,
concerning the types of Gutenberg], the idea presented itself to me
that it would be well to examine with care a certain volume printed by
Frederic Hauman, which was in a neglected corner of my library. I took
it up, not thinking that I should make any discovery. I knew that the
last productions of the presses of Nicholas Bechtermüntz were printed
with other types than those of Gutenberg, and that, among the known
impressions of the Brothers of the Life-in-Common at Marienthal, none
were executed with these characters. But judge of my astonishment, of
my joy, perhaps, when I recognized in this neglected book not only
the types of the _Catholicon_ of 1460, the only ones appertaining to
Gutenberg that could have been employed in the books that proceeded
from the presses of Eltvill, but also the types that had been used in
the _Letters of Indulgence_ of 1454 and 1455, in the _Appeal against
the Turks_ of 1455, the _Calendar of 1457_ described by Fischer, the
_Bible of 36 lines_, and all the characters of Albert Pfister—or, to
be brief,—when I recognized the most ancient types of John Gutenberg.
Helbig, _Une découverte pour l’histoire de l’imprimerie_, p. 4.
Helbig gives a list of seven books, of little value, printed by Hauman,
in these types of Gutenberg. He expresses his astonishment that they
had not before been identified, but he offers no explanation of the
singular fact that these types were not used by any printer between
1469 and 1506.
[285] Helbig, _Une découverte pour l’histoire de l’imprimerie_, p. 4,
note.
[286] See pages 315 and 316 of this book.
[287] Many authors who do not mention Gutenberg speak of Mentz as the
city in which printing was first practised. Van Laar, at Cologne, in
1478; Caxton, at Westminster, in 1482; the archbishop Berthold of
Mentz in 1486; Meydenbach of Mentz in 1494—these are a few of the many
writers who have certified to this fact. A cloud of witnesses, says Van
der Linde, join in the song of Celtes: “You wind yourself, already, O
broad-waved Rhine! to the town of Mentz, which first of all printed
with metal letters.” Van der Linde, _Haarlem Legend_, p. 32.
[288] In the year 1742, the Jesuits, who then had control of the church
of Saint Francis, tore it down in order to rebuild another edifice upon
the same ground. The tablet and the tomb of Gutenberg were destroyed.
The inscription on this tablet was published for the first time in a
book printed by Peter Friedburg at Mentz in the year 1499. Helbig,
_Notes et dissertations_, p. 10.
[289] Ivo Wittig was an ecclesiastic of eminence, chancellor and grand
rector of the University of Mentz, to which he gave his large library
of books and manuscripts. When the Swedes approached Mentz, this
precious library was removed. Unfortunately, it was put on a boat of
the Rhine which was wrecked, and his rare collection of books was lost.
Helbig says it is an irreparable loss, for Wittig was deeply interested
in printing, and his collection, no doubt, contained materials of the
highest importance concerning its history.
[290] This is an error. This house is not connected with the history of
printing in any other way than in being the residence of Gutenberg when
a child. When the Gensfleisch family were sent or went in exile, their
houses were confiscated. It is not probable that Gutenberg died in the
house bearing his name.
[291] The Jesuit Serarius says that he saw this tablet one hundred
years after it was erected. Between 1632 and 1636, when the Swedes
were in Mentz, this house was sacked, but the tablet was spared. In
1741, it was taken down and placed in the wall in the court of a house
belonging to the University. But this monument, which escaped the
barbarity of the Swedish soldiers, was destroyed by the conscripts of
the French republic, who were lodged in this house between the years
1793 and 1797. Helbig says it is probable that these ruffians suspected
John Gutenberg of aristocratic tendencies. They did not know that the
old citizen of Mentz was, unwittingly, the leader of all democrats,
revolutionists and reformers, the man above all others, who, by his
invention, had paved the way for the French revolution.
[292] Bernard’s conjectures as to the reason for this change are
plausible. He says: The sales of the _Bible_ had not been so great as
Fust had expected. Envious copyists had probably fostered a prejudice
against the printed Bible as purely mechanical copying, and for that
reason, or on account of its known errors, inferior to the ordinary
manuscript. Fust hoped to remove these objections, and to attract
purchasers by giving the unsold copies the appearance of a new edition.
Madden does not accept this hypothesis. He thinks that the two kinds
of copies were composed at the same time by different compositors,
who, setting their types from dictation, not seeing the manuscript
copy, made their abbreviations without uniformity, and, as a necessary
consequence, produced pages of unequal length. This explanation is
quite as reasonable.
[293] It could, with more propriety, be called a ritual. The psalms
are followed by prayers, collects, litanies, the service for the dead,
hymns, etc. But it is always described as a psalter.
[294] The rubricated capital letters on the larger body, which are very
large and square, might be regarded as another incomplete font, for
which small letters had not been provided.
[295] Savage said, before he had critically examined the ink of the
book:
It is a curious fact that, under Fust and Gutenberg, the process [of
printing in colors] should be carried nearly to perfection; for some
of the works they printed, both in the quality of the ink and in the
workmanship, are so excellent that it would require all the skill of
our best printers, even at the present day, to surpass them in all
respects: and I do not hesitate to say, that, in a few years after,
the printers were actually superior to us in the use of red ink,
both as to color and as to the inserting of a great number of single
capital letters in their proper places in a sheet, with a degree of
accuracy and sharpness of impression that I have never seen equaled in
modern workmanship. _Decorative Printing_, London, 1822, pp. 6 and 7.
After a closer inspection, Savage discovered that the red was painted.
Papillon declared that the red ink was of the most perfect beauty.
Chatto said that this earliest known production [of the press of Fust
and Schœffer] remains to the present day unimpaired as a specimen of
skill in ornamental printing. The art of printing was perfected by
Fust and Schœffer. Jackson and Chatto, _Wood Engraving_, p. 168.
[296] He says the ink was dull yellow:
On some of the leaves where music is given there is an appearance as
if the oil in the ink had penetrated through the vellum and tinged
the opposite side of the leaf with a dingy yellow. This had been
supposed to be the case, but I find that the original tune had been
printed with a dull yellow ink, and that subsequently a different one
had been written in over the first, with black ink to match the color
of the text; and so exactly is this effect produced that, if it were
not for the remains of the printing of the original tune, it might
pass unsuspected of being any other than the production of the press.
_Practical Hints on Decorative Printing_, pp. 49 and 51.
[297] _De l’origine_, etc., vol. I. p. 225.
[298] _History of Printing_, p. 85.
[299] Some writers say that the earliest printing inks were gum-water
colors, which could be washed off the vellum with a wet sponge. But the
ink of the _Psalter_ was a true printing ink, a smoke-black mixed with
oil. The modern pressman, who has ineffectually tried to make ordinary
printing ink stick to parchment imperfectly cleansed of oily matter,
will at once attribute this failure of the printer of the _Psalter_ to
the oiliness of the vellum and the weakness of his printing ink.
[300] _Practical Hints on Decorative Printing_, p. 50.
[301] This method of printing in colors was patented by Solomon Henry
of Great Britain in 1786, and in another form by Sir William Congreve
in 1819, and by him applied to the printing of maps. _Abridgment of
Specifications relating to Printing_, London, 1859. Improvements in
machine presses have put out of use these methods of printing in colors.
[302] _Life and Typography of William Caxton_, vol. II, p. liii, note.
[303] Blades shows fac-similes of the printed work of Colard Mansion,
in which we see that his red and black were printed by the same
impression. _Life and Typography of William Caxton_, vol. I, p. 43.
Also, plates III and VIII.
[304] The modern printer who may regard this method of color-printing
as puerile and wasteful of time, must be reminded that, slow as it
may now seem, it was a quicker method than that of hand-drawing and
painting. The difference between the old and the modern process of
printing in colors will be fully stated, by saying that Schœffer
printed, probably, but forty copies of this initial in one day, and
that the modern pressman on a machine press would be required to
produce, from two impressions, about twenty-five hundred copies in one
day. Far from being a specimen of the skill of the early printers, this
initial B is a flagrant example of their inexperience and the rudeness
of their methods.
[305] See fac-simile, plate 15, _Humphrey’s History of Printing_.
[306] See fac-simile on page 455 for the frequent transposition of the
letters _t_ and _c_. Also in first line of same fac-simile, _Presen
spalmorum_ for _Presens psalmorum_.
[307] Fournier thinks that _all_ the letters of the _Psalter_ were cut
on wood. _De l’origine, etc., de l’imprimerie_, p. 231. But Bernard
says: “After a careful study of many copies, I declare that this book
is certainly printed with types of founded metal, and founded, too,
with admirable precision.” _De l’origine et des débuts_, etc., vol. I,
p. 224.
[308] The last edition of the book, printed by his son, John Schœffer,
in 1516, shows the great initial B entirely in red ink. It proves that
the letter previously printed in two colors was engraved on one block.
It proves also that the original method of painting the letter in two
colors had been found expensive and impracticable.
[309] The one first printed is dated April 6th, 1462: it is a
manifesto, from Diether, notifying all people that he is the lawful
ruler, and that Adolph is the usurper. This document, which is in
German, contains 106 lines of Great-primer type, and is printed on a
sheet of the size 12-1/2 by 17-1/4 inches. But when Adolph captured
Mentz, he issued counter proclamations. First of all was a proclamation
dated August 8, 1461, from the Emperor Frederic III, announcing the
deposal of Diether. It was printed on a half sheet, in German, and in
the types of the _Bible of 1462_. The other proclamations were bulls or
briefs in Latin, against Diether, from Pope Pius II, dated at Tivoli.
All of them are in Round Gothic types on English body. The first bull
warns the people to shun Diether as they would a pestilent beast; the
second is the warrant for the installation of Adolph; the third orders
the clergy to obey Adolph; the fourth orders the people to obey Adolph,
and releases them from allegiance to Diether. The fifth bull relates to
a different matter: it sets forth the unsuccessful mission of Cardinal
Bessarion to the Turks. Bernard, _De l’origine_, etc., vol. I, p. 242.
[310] Bernard, _De l’origine_, vol. II, p. 273.
[311] We do not know whether Jenson acquired his knowledge of printing
secretly or openly—in the office of Gutenberg or Schœffer, or
elsewhere, but he succeeded in his undertaking. Nor is the date of his
return to Paris known. Madden thinks that Jenson was taught the art not
in Mentz, but in Cologne. During his absence, Charles VII died. On the
15th August, 1461, Louis XI, his son, was crowned at Rheims. A lover of
books, and the founder of the great National Library, the king should
have been deeply interested in the mission of Jenson, but he had formed
a strong dislike to all the officers that had been appointed by his
father, and began his reign by dismissing the court favorites. Jenson
was treated as one of their number. All his efforts to get a suitable
recompense for what he had done, and money to establish an office in
Paris, were unavailing, and he was obliged to abandon Paris. He went to
Venice, and made himself famous by his new design of Roman letter, and
by the admirable presswork of his books.
[312] These _Bibles_ have been the occasion of an incredible legend
which was first told by one John Walchius. It would not deserve
repetition here if it had not so often appeared in modern literature.
He says that Fust offered one copy of this _Bible_ to the king for
sixty crowns, and another copy to the archbishop for fifty crowns. To
tempt indifferent purchasers, he abated his price until it was but
forty crowns, a price so small and so insufficient as to excite the
greatest wonder. The purchasers of different copies, fearing trickery,
compared their copies. Instead of discovering imperfection, they found
an unvarying uniformity which was unaccountable. Meanwhile Fust was
still offering for sale other copies, and all were exactly alike. As it
was clearly impossible that any copyist could write so many books with
this precision, it was obvious that Fust was in league with the Devil,
and that the _Bibles_ were their joint production. The logical process
by which this conclusion was reached is not stated; but we are told
that complaint was made, that Fust was arrested, and thrown in prison,
from which he was not released until he had revealed the secret. The
absurdity of the story is transparent. Bernard has shown that it rests
on no valid authority.
[313] See page 435 of this book.
[314] In this year Conrad Sweinheym and Arnold Pannartz, who had
established a printing office in the monastery of Subiaco, near Rome,
printed an edition of _Lactantius_, in which Greek types were used.
[315] The phrase, _neque ærea_, must be understood as, not by engraving
_in_ brass or copper plates, or not by the process then employed by the
copper-plate printers.
[316] The use of the words, Peter, my son, may be understood as the
first acknowledgment by Fust of the marriage of his daughter to
Schœffer.
[317] The Library of Geneva has a copy of this edition of _Cicero_,
which contains, in his own handwriting, the acknowledgment of Louis
de Lavernade, first president of Languedoc, that the book had been
presented to him in Paris, by John Fust, in July, 1466.
[318] The record of this church says that the mass was instituted to
John Fust, printer of books, “by Peter Scofer and Conrad Henlif,”
who gave to the church the _Epistles of Saint Jerome_, printed
on parchment, and valued at 12 crowns of gold. In 1473, Schœffer
established another mass for Fust and his wife Margaret, with the
Dominicans at Mentz, for which he gave a copy of the _Epistles of
Jerome_ and of the _Constitutions of Pope Clement V_. As two books
were here required, it shows that the price of books was rapidly
depreciating.
[319] Bernard says that this Conrad was the son of John Fust, and that
Christina Fust, who married Schœffer, was Conrad’s daughter. The only
evidence that this Christina was Conrad’s daughter is the statement
in the application, which is printed above. But this statement is not
enough to overturn the contradictory statements of other writers of
that day, who had better knowledge of the true relationship of all the
parties. Wetter thinks that Conrad was another son-in-law to Fust. We
know very little about him. It does not appear that he had any thing
to do with printing before the death of Fust, nor did he exercise any
known influence as a printer. His name is not to be found in any of
Schœffer’s books. It is not known when he died.
[320] This manuscript was returned, as had been agreed. It was probably
used to collate the text of their edition of this book, a big folio of
548 double-columned pages in types on English body, which was completed
by Schœffer and Conrad Fust, June 13th, 1469.
[321] This passage is an allusion to the running of the disciples to
the sepulchre where Christ had been laid. “So they ran both together;
and the other disciple did outrun Peter, and came first to the
sepulchre . . . . yet went he not in . . . . Then cometh Simon Peter
following him, and went into the sepulchre.” St. John, XX, 4, 6.
[322] _Institutes of Justinian_, 1468.
[323] It seems that this was done to avoid the expense of making a
new mould, and to save the labor of cutting new capital letters—an
evasion of duty not at all creditable to the alleged inventor of the
type-mould. Gutenberg made four sizes of Pointed Gothic—the Paragon of
the _Bible of 42 lines_, the Double-pica of the _Bible of 36 lines_,
the Double-great-primer and Meridian of the _Psalter of 1457_—and three
sizes of Round Gothic, the large English of the _Letter of Indulgence
of 31 lines_, the small English of the _Letter of Indulgence of 30
lines_, and the Pica of the _Catholicon of 1460_. They were cast on
seven distinct bodies. Schœffer’s three faces of types, one of them
imperfect, were cast on two bodies.
[324] He consigned his books to one Hans Bitz of Lubec, who died,
leaving the debt unpaid.
[325] To become a freeman of the city of Frankfort, Schœffer paid a tax
of 10 pounds 4 shillings.
[326] There is in Paris a treatise by Dun Scotus, printed by Anthony
Koburger of Nuremberg in 1474, which contains a bill of sale written by
Peter Schœffer, which states that the book was sold to one John Henry
for three crowns of gold.
[327] His agent in Paris was Hermann Stathoen, who died there in 1474,
before he had been made a citizen. According to the French law, all his
effects reverted to the crown. The books of Schœffer were seized by the
king’s commissioners, and were scattered and sold before his partner
Conrad Fust, or Henlif, could make a reclamation. He appealed to the
king, Louis XI, who ordered that Schœffer should be recompensed by the
payment of 2,425 crowns. This was a large sum for that day: it was
nearly four times as large as the sum fixed on in a valuation of all
the books in the Louvre in 1459.
[328] His son, John Schœffer, who had some control over the printing
office before his father’s death, timidly and tardily introduced
paging-figures, but they were not regularly used in his later works. We
may suppose that the father disliked the innovation. The invention of
leads is the only improvement that can be attributed to Schœffer.
[329] Ten years before, John Schœffer had conceded full justice to
Gutenberg, and had told the story with more truth. In the dedication
of an edition of Livy, printed by him in 1505, John Schœffer uses this
language: “Will your Majesty [addressing the Emperor Maximilian] deign
to accept this book, printed in Mentz, the city in which the admirable
art of typography was invented, in the year 1450, by the ingenious John
Gutenberg, and was afterward perfected at the cost and by the work of
John Fust and of Peter Schœffer . . . ” This acknowledgment did not
prevent the Emperor from making a subsequent official declaration, in
the privilege or copyright for a grand edition of Livy, published by
the same printer, and dated December 9, 1518, that the grandfather of
John Schœffer had invented printing [_chalcographia_]. So much for the
strength of audacious falsehood! Bernard, _De l’origine et des débuts_,
vol. I, p. 309.
[330] _Annales Hirsaugienses_, vol. II, p. 421.
[331] The description of the more ingenious method of “founding the
forms of all the letters of the Latin alphabet, which they called
matrices, from which [matrices] they again founded types, either in
tin or in brass,” has been denounced by many writers on typography as
the confused statement of a man who did not thoroughly understand what
he related, and who has reversed the proper order of the process of
type-making. A more careful reading will show that Trithemius attempted
to describe the process of matrix-making, which is set forth in page
302 of this book. He says the types were made either of brass or of
tin, for his memory failed him, and he could not recollect that it was
the matrix which should have been of brass, and the type of tin. The
characters “which before this had been cut by hand” may be regarded
not as types, but as punches of soft metal. They would necessarily be
damaged by pressure in the semi-fluid metal selected for making the
matrices. The tools which Trithemius vainly tried to describe were the
punch of steel and the mould and matrices of brass. That punches and
matrices of wood or of soft metal unequal to hard pressure were used by
the earlier printers is proved by the variable shapes of their types.
[332] The impressions of Gutenberg, which clearly show that his types
were cast and not cut, should outweigh the statements of all the
chroniclers; but it may be proper to call attention to the fact that
the types of the _Bible of 42 lines_ were used by Schœffer in 1476,
and that the types of the _Letters of Indulgence_ and of the _Bible of
36 lines_ were in use by Hauman at the end of the fifteenth century.
If these types had been cut, they would have been soon worn out. The
reappearance of these faces fifty years after they were first used
shows that the types of Hauman must have been cast from the matrices of
Gutenberg.
[333] This version is found in _Wolf’s Monumenta Typographica_,
vol. I, pp. 466 and 469, under the heading of _The Statement of an
Unknown Author_, and is attributed by Wolf to one Jo. Frid. Faustus of
Aschaffenburg (who died in 1620), or to his son. Wolf admits (p. 452,
note) that the identity of the author is not clearly established. It is
probable that the statement was written by a descendant of John Fust,
who was predisposed to magnify his services and those of his partner.
Van der Linde calls the writer an arch liar. Bernard rejects the entire
statement as unworthy of credit, or even of notice.
[334] Five of the disputed works are the _Donatus of 1451_, the _Bible
of 36 lines_, the _Letters of Indulgence of 1455_, the _Calendar of
1457_ and the _Almanac of 1455_. The chief reason for attributing these
works to Pfister is that they exhibit the types of the _Bible of 36
lines_.
[335] There is no English equivalent for _libripagus_, which means
a workman who is an engraver, a printer, and a stenciler. Like
other writers of his day, Paul of Prague had to coin a word to
define printers, who for many years after were called _typographi_,
_typothetæ_, _chalcographi_, _excusores_ and _protocharagmatici_.
Most writers called printers _impressores_, or impressors, from the
process of impressing types. This word, which was finally accepted in
all European languages, has served to foster the error that the vital
principle of printing is impression.
[336] Ticozzi, Stefano, _Storia del letterati e degli artisti del
dipartimento della Piave_, Belluno, 1813. See, also, _L’imprimerie_,
No. 58, October, 1868.
[337] Bernard, _De l’origine_, vol. II, p. 94. This vain and scandalous
inscription was probably made by one of Mentel’s descendants. It is
not stated when this tablet was erected. Bernard supposes that it is
a second tablet, which was put up in place of one made soon after his
burial.
[338] It was probably provoked by the false assertion of John Schœffer,
that Peter Schœffer, his father, and John Fust, his grandfather, were
the proper inventors, to the exclusion of Gutenberg. Schott, knowing
that Mentel’s claims as an inventor were as valid as those of Fust
or Schœffer, placed on his books, after 1520, an armorial shield
containing a crowned lion, with this inscription: “Arms of the Schott
family, granted by the Emperor Frederic III to John Mentel, the first
inventor of typography, and to his heirs, in the year 1466.” There are
doubts concerning this patent of nobility. When it was demanded many
years afterward, it could not be produced [_De l’origine_, vol. II,
p. 69]. It may have been granted to Mentel, not as the first printer,
but as the first printer in Strasburg. Schœpflin, who speaks of this
document as if he had seen the original, denies that it gave to Mentel
the title of inventor of printing [_Vindiciæ Typographicæ_, p. 98,
note]. There was a tradition that the Emperor Frederic III had given to
a corporation of master printers known as the Typothetæ, an heraldic
shield, representing an eagle holding in one claw a composing-stick,
and in the other claw a copy-guide, surmounted by a griffin
distributing ink with two balls. But these are not the arms displayed
by Schott, nor did Mentel, nor his successor Flach, make any display of
them in their books.
[339] In another book Spiegel says 1442.
[340] Meerman, _Origines Typographicæ_, vol. II, p. 199. It is not
clearly proved that Specklin, who was a magistrate of Strasburg at
the close of the sixteenth century, is the author of this statement.
Bernard says that this version contains about as many errors as words.
[341] Lichtenberger, _Initia Typographica_, p. 56.
[342] The first book printed at Strasburg with a date was a copy of
the _Decretals of Gratianus_, a folio in two volumes, which bears this
imprint: “By the venerable Henry Eggestein, master of liberal arts,
and citizen of the renowned city of Strasburg, in the year 1471.” This
was not his first book, for in another book printed in the same year,
he tells the reader that he has printed “innumerable volumes of law,
philosophy and divinity.” He printed two or three editions of the
_Bible_ in Latin, and one in German, and many other books in folio. The
types of these books are unlike those used by Mentel. Eggestein was
recorded in the tax list among the city officers, and was afterward
bishop’s chancellor in the court of Strasburg. The partnership between
Mentel and Eggestein was of short duration. The date of Eggestein’s
death is not known: his name is not found in any books printed with his
types after 1472.
[343] It is supposed that he printed the _Bible_ in German and in
Latin, _Questions of Conscience_, _A Concordance of the Bible_, _The
Epistles of Saint Jerome_,_The City of God_, _The Specula of Vincent of
Beauvais_. All these books are thick folios—many of them in types on
English body. Some are in two, and the last named in eight, volumes.
Other works have been attributed to him, but Madden says that some of
them (books with a curious form of the letter R—which others say were
the work of Zell) were printed at the Monastery of Weidenbach.
[344] For a table of the chronological order in which printing was
established in the Netherlands, see page 323 of this book.
[345] The high reputation of Schœffer’s office was fairly sustained
by his son John, who died in 1531. Peter Schœffer, junior, another
son, was equally able, for he printed books in Hebrew, Latin, German
and English. He found no proper encouragement at Mentz, and had to
establish his office successively at Worms, Strasburg and Venice.
His last known work, with date 1542, was printed at Venice, where
it is supposed he died. Ives Schœffer, son of Peter, junior, who
succeeded John Schœffer in the management of the office at Mentz, was
an industrious publisher from 1531 to 1552, the supposed year of his
death. Victor, the son of Ives, gave up the business, and the name of
Schœffer disappeared from the roll of printers at Mentz. Helbig, _Notes
et dissertations_, etc., p. 47–50.
[346] A description of this _Bible_, with other particulars of
importance, was given by Dr. Dziatzko, the librarian at Freiburg, in
a letter to Hessels, and by him printed in the introduction to the
_Haarlem Legend_, p. XXII.
[347] The Brotherhood were forbidden by the vows they had taken to ask
for alms or accept gifts, and were required to live by the labor of
their hands. They devoted themselves to the duties of teaching school
and copying books. At Weidenbach they were remarkably successful.
They built a church in 1490 with the money they had made from the
sale of manuscript and printed books. Madden says that the monastery
of Weidenbach was not only a publishing house, but a prominent school
of typography, and that there are reasons for believing that it gave
instruction to Caxton, Jenson, Mansion and other eminent printers.
[348] This John Sensenschmidt subsequently went to Bamberg, and in 1481
there published the _Bamberg Missal_, with a text in Pointed Gothic
types of five-line pica body, probably the largest text types ever used
in a book. It was admirably printed and rubricated.
[349] These two thousand impressions were taken from about three
hundred cuts—for the cut that served for the portrait of Paris of
Troy was used for Odofredus of Germany and the poet Dante of Italy.
Wood-cuts professing to represent cities and battles in Greece and
Syria were repeated for battles and cities in France and Germany,
with an indifference to the anachronisms and a cool disregard of the
incredulity of the reader that are amazing. The author had a keen
relish for the marvelous—for men with one eye, with immense ears, with
enormous legs, and like monstrosities. The _Dance of Death_, which is
reproduced on page 185 of this book, is one of the most meritorious
designs, but most of them are of small value. The fac-simile of
Koburger’s map on the opposite page should be contrasted with the map
of Germany in any modern atlas. It is presented as an illustration of
the medieval notion of geography, and as one of the first attempts at
map-printing.
[350] In 1477, Sorg printed the first illustrated edition of the whole
Bible; in 1483, a description of the council of Constance, containing
nearly one thousand engravings.
[351] Representing that the use of wood-cuts by typographers was an
infringement on the vested rights of the guild, the block-printers
induced the magistrates to pass a law commanding printers not to
use wood-cuts. Not deriving the benefits they expected from this
restriction, the block-printers proposed to concede to the typographers
the right to use as many cuts as they pleased, providing they would
agree to use only the wood-cuts made by regular engravers.
[352] In 1472, Melchior of Stanheim, abbot of the monastery of St.
Ulric at Augsburg, established a printing office in his monastery,
buying types and tools from other printers. He bought five presses of
Schüssler for 73 florins, and had five other presses made for him by a
joiner of Augsburg. The equipment of his office cost 702 florins, which
was then regarded as a large sum.
[353] See chapter XV and pages 322–325 of this book for a fuller
description of the works of this printer.
[354] See notes on pages 281 and 322.
[355] Many bibliographers say that he went to Cologne in 1473. Madden
regards him as a pupil of the monastery at Weidenbach. Blades thinks
that he was self-taught, or taught by some unknown printer, and that,
as early as 1472, he began his typographic work at Bruges, in which he
was assisted by William Caxton.
[356] He printed eight books in 1478; seven in 1479; nine in 1480; ten
in 1482. In fifteen days he printed three books, one of 85, and another
of 305 leaves. During the seventeen years he was in business he printed
150 books. His last book at Gouda was dated June 23, 1484; on the 18th
of September, 1484, he published at Antwerp, a book of 400 pages.
Fifteen days after, he completed another book. During the first six
months of 1485, he published one volume each month. One of these books
had 34, and another 76 engravings specially cut for the work.
[357] The colophon of this book is a queer piece of mysterious English:
. . . Enprentyd in the duchye of Braband, in the town of Andewarpe,
in the yere of our Lord M. CCCC. XCIIII. By maistir Gerard de Leew, a
man of grete wysedom in all maner of kunyng: whych nowe is come from
Lyfe unto the doth, which is grete harme for many of poure man. On whas
sowle God almythy for hys hygh grace haue mercy. Amen. Van der Meersch.
_Imprimeurs Belges et Néerlandais_, vol. I, p. 119.
[358] The printed date of this book is M.CCCC.LXI. It is a curious
circumstance that this exact printer should begin with an error which
makes his first publication appear ten years earlier than it was.
[359] In 1479, Dominic made this contract for printing a book. The
publisher Boniface should furnish the paper, and should pay 10 livres
for 200 copies of a book of 23 or 24 leaves of royal octavo or ordinary
quarto. If he printed more than 200 copies, he should forfeit all
claims for work done. In another contract, made in 1480, Dominic agreed
to print 100 copies of a book of 100 or 120 pages for 4 florins in
gold. The prices for printing seem insufficient, but the cost of labor
was small. The compositors of the Ripoli Press were the sisters of a
convent.
[360] The partnership should be for three years. Zarot bound himself
to furnish all the types, Latin and Greek, Roman and Gothic, and to
make all the ink. The four associates were to furnish the money. One
of them, De Burgo, should advance 100 ducats as soon as they could
keep four presses steadily at work. If any partner should obstruct the
business, he should lose all his rights. Rent should be paid out of
the general fund. Profits should be divided in three parts, of which
Zarot should have one part, and the four associates, two parts. Zarot
should pay the associates one third the actual cost of the presses and
other implements, which should become his property at the termination
of the partnership. Current expenses should be paid out of the general
fund from the profits of sales. The priest Gabriel (a partner) should
be the agent, treasurer and general manager. He should have one copy
of every book printed. Books for publication should be selected at a
general meeting of all partners. The corrector and the copyists should
be paid in printed books. Every workman should be bound by oath to
keep the secrets of the partners, and was forbid to give any book to
any other master printer of the city. If any partner wished to print
a book on his own account, and could not agree with his associates,
he would be permitted to have it done elsewhere.—Peter and Nicholas
de Burgo immediately asked for the use of three presses or more, for
works on common and civil law and medicine, they providing and paying
for the presses and for working them, and half the current expenses of
the office. They also agreed to give one-fourth of the profits, to pay
a bonus of 25 ducats, and one copy of each book, provided the society
would not sell it under price.
[361] It will be seen that the business of publishing is almost as old
as that of printing. Valdarfer agreed to set up the types of the books
produced at the rate of 24 imperials (?) for every 20 pages. The wary
publishers took the precaution to specify in the agreement that the
blank pages should not be counted.
[362] The Senate of Lucca, by a vote of 38 to 9, voted to pay the
priest Clement, a professional calligrapher and bookbinder (who had
applied for the means to go to Venice and get a knowledge of the art),
a subvention of two florins monthly, on condition that he should
practise his art as a public officer, teaching all who wished to learn.
Clement declined the offer.
[363] Gering reprinted the books of Keyser and Stol as soon as he could
procure copies. Each house boasted of the superior accuracy and greater
cheapness of its own publications.
[364] In this style the pages were surrounded by narrow pictorial
borders in pieces of irregular length. These pieces were repeatedly
used on different pages, but always in new combinations, so as to
present some feature of novelty. The ground-works of the borders
were generally stippled. The large illustrations in the text were
in outline, obviously intended for coloring. Red letters were often
printed on every page, but the larger initials were painted.
[365] Blades thinks that it was printed at Bruges by Colard Mansion
and William Caxton, about 1472. Madden thinks it was printed at the
monastery of Weidenbach by Mansion and Caxton, who went there about
1474 to learn practical typography. Other bibliographers say that
it was printed by Zell at Cologne. The types of this _Recuyell_ are
thoroughly French, and are like the larger types used by Mansion.
Bernard thinks that these types were made and first used at Cologne, by
the order of the Duke of Burgundy for the French edition of the same
work.
[366] Thomas, in his _History of Printing_, said that printing was done
in Mexico before 1569. The subsequent discovery of Mexican books with
earlier imprints has compelled a gradual putting back of the date to
1540, which is that of the earliest existing book. There is a tradition
about a Mexican book said to be printed in 1536, but the book is not
in existence, and the correctness of this date has not been proved.
Harrisse quotes an author who says that printing was taken to Mexico in
1532, by the Viceroy Mendoza, and that Pablos was the first printer.
But Mendoza did not go to Mexico until 1535. Pablos was the foreman of
Cromberger, who had one office in Seville and one in Mexico.
[367] This is Hallam’s enumeration of the hooks printed in large cities
before 1500:
Florence 300
Milan 629
Bologna 298
Rome 925
Venice 2835
London 130
Paris 751
Cologne 530
Nuremberg 382
Leipsic 351
Basle 320
Strasburg 526
Augsburg 256
Louvain 116
Mentz 134
Deventer 161
If allowance be made for the books that are lost, these numbers are
too small, but the list will give a correct idea of the comparative
activity of the early printers at different places. During this period
were published 291 editions of Cicero, 95 of Virgil, 57 of Horace, 91
of the Latin Bible and many hundreds of the decretals and digests of
canon law.
[368] The Bishop of Angers in 1470 paid 40 crowns of gold for a copy of
the _Bible of 1462_. The _Catholicon_ of Gutenberg sold for 41 crowns
of gold in 1465. A copy of Mansion’s edition of the _Consolation of
Philosophy_ by Boethius, brought 40 crowns in 1481. A missal was sold
in 1481 for 18 gold florins. Bernard notes a sale in which a printed
copy brought a higher price than a manuscript. A copy on vellum of the
_Summary of St. Thomas_ by Schœffer, was sold at Paris for 15 crowns
of gold. A manuscript of similar size was sold for 10 crowns. It is
difficult to form just conclusions from these prices, for the bindings
of the books have not been described. Hallam says that the florin was
worth about four francs of present money, equivalent, perhaps, to
twenty-four in commodities, and that the crown was worth rather more.
Another estimate allows to the money of the fifteenth century eight
times its present purchasing power.
[369] The mandate is too long for an unabridged translation, but the
following extracts will fairly set forth the reasons for his action:
Although, by a certain divine art of printing, abundant and easy
access is obtained to books in every science . . . yet we have
perceived that certain men, led by the desire of vainglory or money,
do abuse this art; and that which was given for the instruction of
human life is perverted to purposes of mischief and calamity. For,
to the dishonoring of religion, we have seen in the hands of the
vulgar certain books of the divine offices and the writings of our
religion translated from the Latin into the German tongue. . . . Some
volumes on this subject, certain rash unlearned simpletons have dared
to translate into the vulgar tongue, whose translation . . . many
learned men have declared unintelligible, in consequence of the very
great misapplication and abuse of words. . . . Let such translators,
if they pay any regard to truth, say whether the German language
be capable of expressing that which excellent writers in Greek and
in Latin have most accurately and argumentatively written on the
sublime speculations of the Christian religion and the knowledge of
things. They must acknowledge that the poverty of our idiom renders
it insufficient, . . . they must corrupt the sense of the truth in
the sacred writings . . . which, from the greatness of the danger
attendant upon it, we greatly dread; for who would leave it to
ignorant and unlearned men and to the female sex, into whose hands
copies of the Holy Scriptures may have fallen, to find out the true
meaning of them?
This was not the first restriction imposed on the liberty of the
printers, for the University of Cologne in 1479 had assumed the right
to control the printing of books by Quentell and Winters.
[370] Gutenberg’s employment of the goldsmith Dünne at Strasburg, and
the payment to him of a big sum for work connected with printing, can
be most satisfactorily explained by the conjecture that Dünne was hired
to cut punches and make a mould. I find no mention of punch-cutting
or mould-making at Mentz, but there is, in the accounts of the Ripoli
Press, an unequivocal notice of one John Peter of Mentz, who was
selling matrices to the printers of Florence in 1476. It is evident
that this John Peter had experience in this branch of typography.
The Ripoli Press bought of him, in 1477, the matrices of a full
font of Roman, for 10 florins in gold. John Peter was not the only
punch-cutter. In 1478, the Ripoli Press paid the goldsmith Benvenuto
110 livres for the punches of three fonts—two of which were of Roman
and one of Gothic face. In 1481, another goldsmith, Banco, made a sale
to the manager of the Ripoli Press, of “100 little letters, 3 big
letters, and 3 vignettes on copper.”
[371] Square notes of music, partly written, partly printed, are seen
in the _Psalter of 1457_. Greek letters were made by Schœffer and
Sweinheym, but the first book in Greek was printed by Paravisinus at
Milan in 1476. Hebrew types were made at Soncino in 1488. At the close
of the century, a German printer at Paris made an imitation of writing,
but the letters were not connected, and the only penmanlike features
were in the capitals. About 1500, Manutius had the engraver Francis of
Bologna cut punches for Italic types, in imitation of the handwriting
of Petrarch.
[372] Jacob Bellaert of Haarlem combined isolated engravings, cut
for the purpose, in the belief that each combination would seem a
new engraving. Kerver tried to give variety to his pages by varying
combinations of detached pictorial borders. But it was quickly
demonstrated that typography could deal successfully with letters
only. The large ornamental initial letters of books were not cast, but
cut, sometimes on wood, oftener on metal. Small and ornamented capital
letters were cast by Mentel of Strasburg, and by Ratdolt of Venice in
1477.
[373] Colonna and Manthen at Venice said that their Gothic was
a “sublime letter.” John Herbort, in 1483, said his was “a most
captivating letter, unquestionably excelling all others.” Nicholas
Prevost said his book was printed “in types the most beautiful and most
becoming for polite literature.” Chevalon said his Gothic was “the
polite and fashionable letter.”
[374] In France, the punches are struck in hot copper to prevent their
breakage.
[375] I know by experience that the ordinary metal used for types can
be cast in a matrix of lead to the number of 125 or 150 types before
the matrix will be destroyed. After 50 or 60 castings, there will be
an alteration in the mould; the finer lines will disappear and ruder
lines be presented. This will account for the differences that the same
letters present on every page. _Magazin Encyclop. de Millin_, 1806,
vol. I, p. 74, as quoted by Bernard, vol. I, p. 299.
[376] Gutenberg’s larger bodies were irregularly graduated and of
Pointed Gothic face; his smaller bodies were not separated at proper
distances, and were of Round Gothic face. The unknown printer had four
faces and four bodies of the size English. Caxton had two faces and two
bodies each of the sizes Paragon, Great-primer and English. The types
of many printers at Paris and Venice show irregularities of body which
seem remarkable and inexplicable to the modern printer.
[377] The smallest sizes which I have met in any book of the fifteenth
century are in the _Decretals of Gregory_, printed in black and red
by Andrew Torresani at Venice in 1498, in which book the text is in
Bourgeois and the surrounding notes are in Brevier. Nonpareil was first
made by Garamond of Paris about the middle of the sixteenth century.
Diamond was made by Jannon of Sedan about 1625. Nothing smaller was
attempted until 1827, when Henry Didot, then 66 years old, cut a font
on the French body of 2-1/2 points—a body known to American printers as
Brilliant, or Half-nonpareil—about twenty-five lines to the American
inch.
[378] It has been suggested that these distinct bodies were founded in
sand moulds; that a new pattern for the body was made every time a new
font was cast; and that the irregularities in body are the results of
unintended or undetected variations in the pattern. But this hypothesis
cannot be accepted. The small bodies, the sharp edges, close fitting-up
and even lining of the types, are peculiarities which could not have
been produced by a sand mould, nor by a mould of any plastic material.
[379] _Lettres d’un bibliographe_, 4th series, p. 231.
[380] See page 66 of this book. Was this obscure metal antimony? The
text books say that antimony was, for the first time, set apart as
a distinct metal in 1490, by Basil Valentine, a monk of Erfurt. But
Madden says that a book supposed to have been printed at Cologne,
before the year 1473, plainly describes antimony as a metal frequently
used and much abused by many monks of the thirteenth century in their
pharmaceutical preparations. _Lettres d’un bibliographe_, 4th series,
p. 115.
[381] It agrees exactly with the old French standard (of 1723) for
height of type, which was 10-1/2 geometric lines, or, by modern French
measure, 24 millimetres. Fournier, _Manuel typographique_, vol. I, p.
125.
[382] The sloping shoulder, which was in general use in the first
quarter of this century, was discarded to meet the requirements of the
new art of stereotyping. It was found that these sloping shoulders made
projections in the plaster mould, which imperiled the making of an
accurate cast. The blackening of the sheet from square shoulders was
prevented by altering the mould and placing the shoulder lower on the
body.
[383] See page 399 of this book.
[384] Bernard believes that Gutenberg cast for the _Bible of 42 lines_
at least 120,000 types, or enough for two sections, or forty pages.
He supposes that twenty pages were perfected, and ready for press or
under press, while the succeeding twenty pages were in the compositor’s
hands. This would be the method adopted by the modern printer, and it
may have been the method of Gutenberg, but it is probable that the
difficulties connected with the new art compelled him to print the book
more slowly, and with imperfect system. But the printers who followed
him certainly used quick methods.
[385] Caxton said that he had “practysed & learned at [his] grete
charge and dispense to ordeyne this said booke in prynte.”
[386] Many of the early master printers practised their trade for a few
years in one place, and a few years in another, roving about from town
to town with a seeming indifference to change which seems unaccountable
to the modern printer, who knows how expensive it is to move a printing
office. The roving habits of the masters will not seem so strange when
it is known that the equipment of the early office was simple, and that
the more expensive tools could be carried with little difficulty.
[387] The engravings of cases shown by Moxon have boxes of unequal
size. No doubt, they were so made from the beginning, for a day’s
experience would teach any compositor that his case must have a larger
box for the letter e than for the letter x.
[388] See page 528.
[389] Bernard says that sticks of wood were used by Christopher
Plantin, “king of printers.” It is characteristic of the taste of his
time, that Plantin had sticks of wood, although he boasted that some of
his types were cast in [matrices of] silver.
[390] Madden, in his first collection of _Lettres d’un
bibliographe_,—the most curious piece of analytical criticism that has
appeared in typographical literature—has demonstrated that the method
of dictation was practised in the office at Weidenbach. In this series
of letters he critically examines three books, printed at this office
with the same types, and at the same time, and points out the peculiar
errors of three different compositors, who, not seeing the copy, were
misled by their misapprehension of the dictated words. He claims that
these books were the practice work of three amateur compositors who
were then learning the trade. Each compositor had copies of his own
workmanship printed as evidences of his skill, or as a memento of his
errors. Novel as they may seem, I am inclined to accept the conclusions
of Madden. Many copies of early printed books, known to be of the same
edition, or done at the same time, show variations in the typographical
arrangement which cannot be explained by any other hypothesis than that
of a double composition by compositors working from dictation.
[391] The composition of Schœffer’s edition of the _Decretals_ has been
injudiciously praised by Bernard. In the fac-simile on page 463, it
will be noticed that the page is crooked, and that the justification
and making-up are very faulty. In a copy of Torresani’s edition of the
_Decretals_, the frequent contractions make the work almost unreadable.
This book has been highly commended for its even spacing; but it is
a sufficient answer to say that any printer could space admirably,
even in the narrowest measure, if allowed to mangle words to suit his
convenience.
[392] The statement made by Lacroix that one book was paged in 1469
does not prove that this was the usage. In some books printed at Venice
during the last ten years of the fifteenth century, the leaves (not
the pages) are numbered on every odd page. But this was not the common
practice. In the _Statius_ of Aldus, printed at Venice in 1502, and in
the Italian translation of the _Commentaries of Julius Cæsar_, printed
by Bernard Venetus of that city in 1517, neither leaves nor pages are
numbered.
[393] Some early chases held their types not with quoins, but by the
pressure of screws. A German printer’s hand-book, dated Leipsic, 1743,
has diagrams of imposition in which the pages are fastened by screws
perforating the chase. Quoins and bevels were not an early invention.
[394] See page 395 for illustration of primitive screw press.
[395] _Mechanick Exercises_, vol. I, pp. 52, 69. To the printer who has
seen only the press in which the platen covers the bed this may seem an
absurd method, but it was a method in general use even as late as the
beginning of this century. Men are yet living who have printed books by
the method shown in the cut—pulling down the bar when one-half of the
form was under the platen—releasing the pressure—running the other half
of the bed under the platen—and finishing the presswork of the other
half of the sheet by a second pull.
[396] There should have been a gradual improvement in the construction
of the press, as there was in the making of the types, but there was
no decided change for two centuries. Moxon, in 1683, commending the
“new fashion” presses of Blaew, denounced the “old fashion presses as
make-shift, slovenly contrivances practised in the minority of this
art.” Nor was Blaew’s press perfect. To insure proper register, Jackson
(who undertook, at Venice in 1745, to print wood-cuts in colors) was
obliged to reconstruct the press of Blaew.
[397] It must also be remembered that on the early printing press two
pressmen were required for the work—one to beat or to ink, and one to
pull or to print. The ordinary task of the hand-pressman of New-York
in 1840 was rated at 1500 impressions, but these impressions were
made by one man (working an inking machine) and one pull on forms of
large size. Considering the surface printed, the performance of one
hand-pressman in 1840 was about eight times more than that of one
pressman in 1458.
[398] Words and lines were sometimes printed in red in a text of black,
with a nicety of register rarely equaled by any printer during the
first years of this century. The early method of printing red with
black, has been described by Moxon. The black form was first printed
with quadrats in the places that should be occupied by the red words
or lines. This done, the form remaining on press, the quadrats were
taken out and the vacant space partially filled with “underlays” of
reglet, about one-sixth inch thick. On these underlays the types to be
printed in red were placed, which adjusting made them about one-sixth
of an inch higher than the types of the black form. The bearers were
then raised, the impression was readjusted, a new frisket was put on,
and the pressman was ready to print red as he had printed the black.
This method of printing red with black, a clumsy method at best, which
can be practised only on small forms on the hand-press, has been out
of fashion for many years.—The color work of the early printers has
been overpraised. Superior, no doubt, to that of printers of the last
century, who tried to do more work in less time, it cannot be compared
with the color work of our time. The rubricated _Book of Common
Prayer_ printed by Welch, Bigelow & Co. of Cambridge, Massachusetts,
the _Specimen Book_ of Charles Derriey of Paris, the _French-English
Dictionary_ of George Bellows of Gloucester, England, may be offered as
specimens of modern color presswork which show an exactness of register
and a purity of color and of impression not to be found in any early
book.
[399] This unevenness does not prove the use of two distinct inks.
In some instances, it was caused by the negligence of the pressman
who applied an unequal quantity of ink upon different pages. In many
instances, it was produced by the variable qualities or conditions of
the paper or vellum. If the paper laid out for one form differed from
that used for other forms in being too coarse or too dry, or over-wet,
or if the vellum had been polished too much or too little, or had not
been entirely freed from lime and grease, it would take up from the
types, during each condition, a variable quantity of color, and produce
prints of a different degree of blackness. These variations in color
are most noticeable in books of vellum. In a prayer book printed by
Kerver in 1507, the ink is black wherever the vellum is smooth, and
gray where it is rough. In another edition of the same book on paper,
printed by Kerver in 1522, the ink is not so black as it appears on
the smooth vellum, but the color is more uniform. Equal carefulness
seems to have been taken with each book, and the ink was, no doubt,
substantially the same. Some of the early printers sorted their sheets
_after_ printing, separating the under-colored from the over-colored
and binding each together.
[400] In trying to avoid the gloominess of early printing, modern
printers have gone too far in the opposite direction. The fault of
imperfect blackness which is justly censurable in many modern books is
largely due to what Hansard calls the “razor-edged” hair lines and thin
stems of modern types which give the printer no opportunity to show
black color. Readers have been taught to prefer a feminine elegance in
types, a weak and useless imitation of copper-plate effects, to the
masculine boldness, solidity and readableness of the old-style letter
of the last century.
[401] Mr. Ticheborne, a recent contributor to _Chambers’ Journal_, says
that the older printing inks are more easily saponified and washed
off by alkalies than those of the last century. Some of the old inks
he found so sensitive, that on introducing them to a weak solution
of ammonia, the printed characters instantly floated off the surface
of the pages. His explanation, that the oil had not been properly
prepared by boiling, and was not changed into an insoluble varnish, and
“resinfied,” is, no doubt, correct. A practical ink-maker, in a series
of papers to _L’imprimerie_ (vol. I, p. 129), says that in many books
of the fifteenth century, the adhesion of the color to the paper is
very weak, and that the ink can be made pale or washed off with a moist
sponge.
[402] Lanzi refers to an Italian manuscript of 1437 in which it is
asserted that the new method of painting in oil, as practised by the
Germans, must begin with the process of boiling linseed oil. _History
of Painting in Italy._ Bohn’s edition, 1852, vol. I, p. 86.
[403] Our _Inck-makers_ to save charges, mingle many times _Trane-Oyl_
among theirs and a great deal of _Rosin_; which _Trane-Oyl_ by its
grossness Furs and Choaks up a _Form_, and by its fatness hinders the
_Inck_ from drying; so that when the Work comes to the _Binders_, it
_Sets-off_; and besides is dull, smeary and unpleasant to the eye. And
the _Rosin_, if too great a quantity be put in, and the _Form_ be not
very _Lean-Beaten_, makes the _Inck_ turn yellow: And the same does the
New _Linseed-Oyl_.——_Secondly._ They seldom _Boyl_ or _Burn_ it to that
consistence the _Hollanders_ do, because they not only save labour and
Fewel, but have a greater weight of _Inck_ out of the same quantity of
_Oyl_ when less _Burnt_ away than when more _Burnt_ away; which want of
Burning makes the _Inck_ also, though made of good old _Linseed-Oyl_,
Fat and Smeary, and hinders its Drying; so that when it comes to the
_Binders_ it also _Sets-off_.——_Thirdly._ They do not use that way of
clearing their _Inck_ the _Hollanders_ do, or indeed any other way than
meer Burning it, whereby the _Inck_ remains more _Oyly_ and _Greasie_
than if it were well clarified.——_Fourthly._ They, to save the
_Press-man_ the labour of _Rubbing_ the _Blacking_ into _Varnish_ on
the _Inck-Block_, _Boyl_ the _Blacking_ in the _Varnish_, or at least
put the _Blacking_ in whilst the _Varnish_ is yet _Boyling-hot_, which
so _Burns_ and _Rubifies_ the _Blacking_, that it loses much of its
brisk and vivid black complection.——_Fifthly._ Because _Blacking_ is
dear, and adds little to the weight of the Inck, they stint themselves
to a quantity which they exceed not; so that sometimes the _Inck_
proves so unsufferable _Pale_, that the _Press-man_ is forced to _Rub_
in more _Blacking_ upon the Block; yet this he is often so loth to do,
that he will rather hazard the Content, the Colour shall give, than
take the pains to amend it: satisfying himself that he can lay the
blame upon the _Inck-maker_. Moxon, _Mechanick Exercises_, vol. II, pp.
76, 77.
[404] No exception need be made for the initial letters of the _Psalter
of 1457_. The thin curved lines of the ornamental portions of these
letters could not have been cut on the flat boards then used by all
engravers on wood. The absence of cracks and broken lines, after long
service, in every print taken from these cuts is presumptive evidence
that they were cut on metal. The ornamentation is unlike that of the
professional engravers of block-books and at once suggests the thought
that they were cut on brass or type-metal by the hand that cut the
types of the text.
[405] That the early printers did encounter serious difficulties in the
use of wood-cuts in type forms is proved by their selection of blocks
of smaller size. Full-page cuts are rare in the books of Koburger, Leeu
and Veldener. Von Os of Zwoll cut up the blocks of the _Bible of the
Poor_. Blades says that Colard Mansion printed the types and wood-cuts
that appeared on the same page by two impressions. Sad experience in
the warping and cracking of blocks of wood in forms of types was, no
doubt, the reason for this extra labor. This difficulty seems to have
been avoided by Pigouchet, Kerver and the printers of ornamental books,
whose cuts have all the mannerisms of engraving on metal.
[406] The disconnection between the arts of engraving on wood and
typography is fairly indicated by the quarrel between the type-printers
and block-printers of Augsburg.
[407] Some engravers on wood who would not work with typographers
undertook a new branch of printing—the making of prints, thirty or
forty inches long, for the decoration of interior walls. Becker has
published a collection of these large prints, taken from the original
blocks, some of which he says were made before 1500. See cut on page
535.
[408] If Florentine money had eight times the purchasing power of
its American equivalent, these were high prices. They justify the
observation of Keyser and Stol, printers at Paris in 1486, that the
price of paper was out of all proportion to the price of printed books.
[409] Vellum was made out of the dressed skins of very young kids and
lambs; parchment from the skins of sheep and goats. The vellum was
very thin, flexible and highly polished; the parchment was thick and
horn-like; but each substance was prepared by nearly the same process.
The skin, when freed from hair, was put in a lime-pit, until it was
deprived of its fat. It was then stretched on a frame, pared with a
knife, rubbed with lime and pumice-stone, and repeatedly dried and wet,
and rubbed and stretched, until the surface was made faultlessly smooth.
[410] See page 469 for the testimony of Schoeffer’s proof-reader.
[411] The copyists, underpaid by the stationers, did their work
recklessly, abbreviating words so freely that it was often impossible
to discover the meaning of the author. The faults of the calligrapher,
who preferred beauty to accuracy, and of the young scholar, who rashly
undertook to correct errors—tended to the same result. Fichet, a
professor of the University of Paris, who seems to have been the first
man of letters who esteemed printing, said, in a complimentary letter
to Gering, Crantz and Friburger, that books were becoming barbarous
through the faults of the copyists. Bouhier, a later president of the
University, said that the books of the copyists were monstrous, and
often unintelligible.
[412] Marchand quotes at length an author who says that John Andrew,
the corrector for Sweinheym and Pannartz, was a very presumptuous
meddler with texts. When he met a word he did not understand, he
printed it in Latin, or put in words at a venture, often making the
text more unintelligible than ever. Another ecclesiastical reader,
Bishop Nicholas Perotti, was quite as great an offender.
[413] Marchand, _Histoire de l’imprimerie_, vol. I, pp. 97–103, and
notes. In support of this assertion he cites the opinions of Schelhorn,
Maittaire, Naudé, and other eminent bibliographers, and gives many
specifications of the inaccuracies of the early printers from Fust
and Schœffer to Froben. Not even Aldus Manutius escapes, for Marchand
quotes at length the accusation of Erasmus that the _Homer_, _Cicero_,
and _Plutarch_ of Aldus were _depravatissima_. This criticism is hardly
warranted by the errors of these editions, and is decidedly unjust in
its reflection on a printer whose industry and carefulness as an editor
have never been surpassed, and who, in his edition of _Plato_ of 1513,
offered a gold coin for every mistake that should be discovered. This
damaging accusation would probably never have been made if Erasmus had
not quarreled with Aldus, and had not thought it necessary to deny with
much asperity that he had served as a corrector of the press in the
Aldine office. As a corrector, Erasmus was not beyond reproach, as will
be more clearly seen in his reading of the _Greek Testament_. Froben’s
lamentation over the two pages of errata in this book (published by
him, but corrected by Erasmus) shows how much easier it is to discover
errors after commission than it is to correct them in time. Stung by
the taunts of critics, Erasmus said that if the Devil did not preside
over typography, there must have been a diabolical malice on the part
of the compositors.
Transcriber's note:
Original printed spelling and grammar are retained, with a few
exceptions noted below. For example, _Gernszheim_, _Gernszheym_,
and _Gernsheim_ are all retained.
Foot-notes have been renumbered 1–413 and moved to the end of book.
Large curly brackets ‘{}’ used to combine information on multiple
lines have been eliminated, by minimally changing the text to retain
the original meaning.
The original Index employed ditto marks and white space extensively
to indicate topics related by a word or phrase. These marks,
sometimes of dubious scope, have been replaced by em dashes,
one for each word to be regarded as repeated. For example, under the
topic heading “Bible of 36 lines, . . . ”, several topics started with
two ditto marks and sufficient white space to indicate the four-word
phrase; herein “— — — —”.
Page 19. In the sentence ending with “ . . . when it has been prepared
for printing by each of the different methods:”, the colon was changed
to full stop.
Page 125. Changed the first _that_ to _than_, in “quicker process that
that of careful writing”.
Page 127. Added full stop after “ . . . have been established in the
most satisfactory manner”.
Page 207. Full stop added after “but they cannot be entirely
overlooked”.
Page 295. “Abcedarium” changed to “Abecedarium”.
Page 302. Second comma in “and for lining, like other matrices,”
changed to full stop.
Page 313 note. Changed _gette en molle_ to _getté en molle_.
Page 356. The comma in “Koning tried to supplement the many
deficiencies of Junius, with extracts . . .” looked more like a
fly-speck, but was present in both 1st and 2nd editions, and seems
plausible.
Page 357 note. Changed “Eclaircissemens” to “Éclaircissemens”.
Page 372 note. Added a left double quotation mark to ‘_long before he
was born_.”’, although this placement is perhaps questionable.
Page 410. There was a symbol that looks similar to the poorly
supported Unicode glyph ܀ U+700 SYRIAC END OF PARAGRAPH. This has been
represented in this edition like this: “·:·”.
Page 548. Changed “Bechtermuntz” to “Bechtermüntz”.
Page 555—Additional Notes and Corrections. None of the corrections
recommended in this section have been applied. Hyperlinks are provided
in the html and epub editions only. ¶ There are two notes in the
_Additional Notes and Corrections_ section that refer to page 150. The
second one seems to be a mistake, however, and really refers to page
154. Similarly, the note that refers to page 451 seems to fit better
page 450.
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