Printing the words of him who gave this praise,

Mainz helps the church the while her debt she pays.

In the year of the Lord 1470, on the seventh day of September, which was the vigil of the Nativity of Mary. Give glory to God.

In 1472, in the “Decretum Gratiani cum glossis,” we get another variant and an addition of some importance:

Anno incarnationis dominice 1472 idibus Augustiis, sanctissimo in Christo patre ac domino domino Sixto papa quarto pontifice maximo illustrissimo, nobilissime domus austrie Friderico, Romanorum rege gloriosissimo, rerum dominis, Nobili nec non generoso Adolpho de Nassau archiepiscopatum gerente maguntinensem, in nobili urbe Moguntia que nostros apud maiores Aurea dicta, quam diuina etiam clementia dono gratuito pre ceteris terrarum nationibus arte impressoria dignata est illustrare, hoc presens Gratiani decretum suis cum rubricis, non atramentali penna cannaue, sed arte quadam ingeniosa imprimendi, cunctipotente adspiranti deo, Petrus Schoiffer de Gernsheym suis consignando scutis feliciter consummauit.

A similar colophon was used in the “Nova compilatio Decretalium Gregorii IX” of 1473, and the phrase “suis consignando scutis” occurs again in Schoeffer’s edition of S. Bernard’s Sermons (1475) and in several books of the three following years. In 1479, in an edition of the “Decretals of Gregory IX,” the phrase is varied to “cuius armis signantur,” after which Panzer records it no more. This first mention of the shields has for us far more interest than the pompous recital of how Sixtus IV was pope, and Frederick of Austria king of the Romans, and Adolph of Nassau archbishop of Mainz when this “Decretal of Gratian” was printed “in the noble city of Mainz, which our ancestors used to call the golden city, and which has been so highly favored by its preëminence in printing.” Needless discussions have been raised as to what was the use and import of printers’ devices, and it has even been attempted to connect them with literary copyright, with which they had nothing whatever to do, literary copyright in this decade depending solely on the precarious courtesy of rival firms, or possibly on the rules of their trade-guilds. But here, on the authority of the printer who first used one, we have a clear indication of the reason which made him put his mark in a book—the simple reason that he was proud of his craftsmanship and wished it to be recognized as his. “By signing it with his shields Peter Schoiffer has brought the book to a happy completion.” When Wenssler of Basel copied Schoeffer’s books, he copied him also in affixing their marks and in drawing attention to them in the same way. Wenssler, too, was a good printer, and though he was certainly not claiming copyright in books which he was simply reprinting, he was equally anxious to have his handiwork recognized.

If yet further evidence be wanted, we can find it in the colophon to Schoeffer’s 1477 edition of the “Tituli Decisionum antiquarum et nouarum,” which reads as follows:

Anno domini M.cccc.lxxvij. pridie nonis Ianuariis graui labore maximisque impensis Romanam post impressionem opus iterum emendatum: antiquarum nouarumque decisionum suis cum additionibus dominorum de Rota: In ciuitate Maguntina impressorie artis inuentrice elimatriceque prima Petrus Schoyffer de Gernssheym suis consignando scutis arte magistra; feliciter finit.

Some other features which occur in the wording of this will be noted later on. For our present purpose it is of interest to find the mark of the shields attached to a book which is distinctly stated to have been printed “Romanam post impressionem,” “after the edition printed at Rome,” and for which, therefore, no literary copyright is conceivable.