In 1585 King Henry III of France issued an edict relieving printers from the application of a general edict taxing artisans. This action was based on the ground that the work of the printer was so far superior in character to that of other mechanics that the printer was not to be regarded as a mechanic at all. He was formally recognized as being in a social class above the members of the trade guilds and almost, if not quite, in the class of gentlemen. Of course, we are speaking now in terms of the sixteenth century and not of the twentieth.

As an incident of this recognized social superiority the printer was permitted to wear a sword, a right which was denied to artisans generally. The old prints showing the interiors of print shops almost invariably show at least one of the workmen wearing a sword, or show a sword conspicuously displayed standing against a pillar or the wall. The introduction of the sword into these pictures is deliberately done to indicate the social pretensions of the printer of this period. It is worth remembering because although it involves a certain artificial social distinction which we now consider rather absurd it also involves certain principles which we should do well not to lose sight of. In those days printing was regarded as a profession rather than strictly a trade, and the printer was deeply impressed with the value and importance of his work, a value and importance which were not only claimed by him but recognized by his fellow citizens. It was very strongly felt that a man who made a book was engaged in a much more important piece of work than a man who made a pair of shoes or forged a sword. The more of this spirit of self respect, the more of this recognition of the importance of printing and the printed product we can recover today, the better off we shall be.

From the beginning printers were troubled by typographical errors. Some of the earlier printers, like Caxton and Gehring, had their books corrected by hand after they were printed. As a rule, however, the modern practice of more or less careful proof reading preceded publication. There were constant complaints of inaccuracy, especially on the part of the cheap printers and the printers of pirated editions. The influence of the better printers and the insistent demands of the public finally brought about a reasonable degree of textual accuracy. It is interesting to note that royal regulation attempted to deal with this matter as it dealt with so many other things.

Charles IX of France issued an edict in 1592 the vital portion of which read as follows: “The said Masters shall furnish copies carefully edited, corrected, and made clear to the compositors lest through default of this their labor be hindered.” The principle underlying the edict was a good one. It is certainly in the interest of all concerned that compositors should be furnished good copy. There is unfortunately every reason to believe that the efforts of this royal champion of copy editing were not attended with very much success.

In 1618 Louis XII organized the corporation of printers which will be discussed later. Louis XIV reaffirmed the preceding edicts governing and regulating the industry, and his great minister Colbert, in 1686, issued certain new regulations. In these it was provided that every shop should have a minimum equipment of two presses well provided with type. This was probably intended to put a stop to the small shops which did poor work and were very difficult to regulate under the police regulations which will be later discussed. The number of shops in Paris was fixed by this edict at 36. Private printing—that is to say, the exercise of the industry by persons not members of the Community of Printers—was absolutely forbidden. The quality of the work put out was insisted upon under severe penalties in case proper standards were not maintained. The long standing disagreement between booksellers and printers was settled by a decision that booksellers could not be members of the Community of Printers, unless they were themselves printers. The bookseller, pure and simple, who was merely a dealer in books was thus barred out of the Community.

Louis XVI, the last king of the old regime, went still further in the matter of the regulation of journeymen. By his regulations every journeyman printer was obliged to register with the public authorities, to take out an identification card, and to have his domicile legally fixed and registered with the public authorities. He could not obtain employment without showing his card and could not change his residence without notifying the public authorities.

In 1789 came the Revolution which swept away all the edicts regulating printing. In this ruin royal regulation, trade organization, police supervision, and every other restraint on the trade went down together. Printing was unregulated and unlicensed. As an actual result there came a flood of printing of a very low character both mechanically and morally.

Some great houses like that of Didot stood fast by the old standards, but small printing houses flourished and the unregulated condition of the trade was in many respects most unfortunate. In the long run, however, economic laws asserted themselves as they always do. The establishment of a settled government under Napoleon and the reassertion of the old laws of libel and the like put a stop to some of the worst extravagances. At a later period, the growth and development of unions of the modern type has had its influence everywhere and the industry has at last come into its own, unhampered by artificial regulations and unrestrained by ill-advised attempts to prevent abuses which can better be dealt with by general statutes applying to all industries and by the operation of economic law.

CHAPTER II
Privileges and Monopolies

The governmental regulations just described were similar to those imposed upon all trades. The product of the printing press, however, was not like that of other manufacturing establishments. The use of books is clearly different from the use of ordinary manufactured products. The modern printing press puts out a flood of material which is temporary in its nature. Much of it never gets read at all and comparatively little of it is considered as of permanent value. The early presses, however, turned out books almost entirely. Practically the whole product was of permanent value. It could be easily imitated, and in many cases the imitation could be produced at much less expense than the original as the imitation involved no labor of editors and compilers. Again, communication in those days was very difficult and freight rates were high. If a book could be reprinted freely by anyone who got hold of it, a book printed in a given place could be sold much cheaper than one brought from a distance. For example, a Paris printer could not compete with a Lyons printer in Lyons provided the latter were permitted to print the same books as the former.