Set forth in October, the 21st day,
In the year ’48, G. P. Putnam, Broadway.”
It is a pity that one of Martial’s advertisements could not have been preserved to compare with the above, which strikes one as quite Martialesque in its general style.
According to Schmidt,[207] Martial’s activities in connection with the sale of his books did not end even with the preparation of the advertisements. In certain cases he was himself engaged in finding buyers for copies. It is probable that such author’s copies formed part of the compensation paid by the publisher for the manuscript, and while by the wealthier authors these would be bestowed “with compliments” upon their friends, the needy writers like Martial would be compelled to turn them into cash. In the eighteenth century in London we find a similar condition of things in the accounts of what was then called publishing “by subscription,” when the needy author would, with his hat in one hand and his subscription list in the other, wait upon his “gracious patron” in expectation of an order for so many copies of his new volume at a guinea or more each.
In spite of the careful training given to their copyists by a few high-class publishers like Atticus, the complaints of inaccurate and slovenly texts, libri mendosi, were frequent. In order to be really trustworthy, each individual copy of the edition ought, of course, to have been carefully collated with and read verbatim by the original, but for an edition of any size, prepared as rapidly as we are told some of them were, such thorough verification was of course impracticable. Martial states[208] that a poem of his (we infer that he means an edition of the poem), comprising 540 lines, had been produced in one hour, hæc una peragit hora nec tantum nugis serviet ille meis. Such work would of course have been done by employing one or more readers to dictate to a number of copyists. The number of copies in the edition is not stated. It could only have been on rare occasions that the author himself would undertake to correct the copies. Martial speaks of doing such correcting work in an exceptional case.[209]
Cicero was evidently exacting concerning the accuracy of his copies. He tells Atticus that by no means must any copies of the treatise De Officiis be allowed to go out until they had been carefully corrected.
We find an occasional reference to a “press-corrector” known to Atticus and Cicero by his Greek name Διορθωτήρ. As the author, except in rare cases, did not get his manuscript again into his hands after this had gone to his publisher, and saw his work again only when the edition was completed and about to be distributed, he was saved from the temptation to make “betterments” by omissions or additions. All such revision he had attended to with due care before handing over his manuscript as “ready for publication,” and authors and publishers of classic times were thus saved the vexation of “extra corrections,” which so frequently forms a serious addition to the expense account and to the annoyance account of modern book-making.
The risks of errors in the transcription must certainly have been materially increased if in the larger publishing establishments the practice was followed of writing from dictation, one “reader” supplying simultaneous “copy” to a number of scribes. It seems probable that in no other way would it have been practicable to produce with sufficient speed and economy the editions required, and I find myself in accord with Birt in the conclusion that dictating was the method generally followed, at least in the more important establishments and for the larger editions. The scribes must of necessity have had a scholarly training, and ought also to have possessed some familiarity with the texts to which they were listening; while with the most skilful and scholarly scribes a careful revision of their copies would have been essential.
Haenny is of opinion that dictation was rarely if ever employed. He lays stress on the fact that the term employed by Cicero in referring to the multiplication of copies was describere, and he contends that this stands simply for copying and cannot be translated as writing from dictation.[210]
One indication of the size of the editions prepared of new books is given in the many references to the various uses found for the “remainders” or unsold copies. The most frequent fate of unsuccessful poetry was for the wrapping of fish and groceries, while large supplies of surplus stock found their way from the booksellers to the fires of the public baths.[211] Cooks also were large buyers of remainders of editions. An author who was voluminous and who had not been able to secure a publisher, might even, as the wags suggested, find it convenient to be burned upon a pile of his own manuscripts. It is evident that in these earlier days of publishing it was no easier than at present for authors or publishers to calculate with accuracy the extent of the public interest in their productions, while it is also probable that then as now an author would rather pay for the making of an abundant supply than incur the dreadful risk of not having enough copies to meet the immediate demand.