“Metallic and other characters were sometimes burnished. Wax was used as a varnish by the Latins and Greeks, but much more by the latter, with whom it continued a long time. This covering or varnish was very frequent in the ninth century.
“Color. The color of Ink is of no great assistance in authenticating manuscripts and charters. There is in my library a long roll of parchments, at the head of which is a letter that was carried over the greatest part of England by two devout monks, requesting prayers for Lucia de Vere, Countess of Oxford, a pious lady, who died in 1199,—who had formed the house [or convent] of Henningham in Essex, and done many other acts of piety. This roll consists of many membranes or skins of parchment sewed together,—all of which, except the first, contain certificates from the different religious houses that the two monks had visited them, and that they had ordered prayers to be offered up for the Countess, and had entered her name on their bead-rolls. It is observable that time hath had very different effects on the various inks with which these certificates were written. Some are as fresh and black as if written yesterday; others are changed brown; and some are of a yellow hue. It may naturally be supposed that there is a great variety of handwritings upon this; but the fact is otherwise, for they may be reduced to three.
“It may be said in general, that BLACK ink of the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth centuries, at least among the Anglo-Saxons, preserves its original blackness [thereby meaning that its “form had not lost all its original brightness”] much better than that of succeeding ages,—not even excepting the sixteenth and seventeenth, in which it was frequently very bad. Pale ink very rarely occurs before the four last centuries.
“Peter Caniparius, Professor of Medicine at Venice, wrote a curious book concerning Ink, which is now scarce, though there is an edition of it printed in London, in 1660, quarto. The title is—De Atramentis cujuscunque generis opus sanè novum. Hactenus à nemine promulgatum. [A work actually new, concerning inks of every kind whatsoever,—hitherto published by no one.] This work is divided into six parts. The first treats generally of Inks made from Pyrites, [sulphurets of iron and copper,] stones and metals. The second treats more particularly of Inks made from metals and Calxes. [Better say calces, or, to speak chemically, crystallized salts deprived of their “water of crystallization,” or carbonic acid, by the action of heat.]—The third treats of Ink made from soots and vitriols.—The fourth treats of the different kinds of Inks used by the librarii or book-writers, [professional scribes or copyists of manuscripts before the invention of the art of Printing,] as well as by printers and engravers, and of staining (or writing upon) marble, stucco or scagliola, and of Encaustic modes of writing; as also of liquids for painting or coloring of leather, cloths made of linen or wool, and for restoring inks that have been defaced by time, as likewise many methods of effacing writing—restoring decayed paper—and of various modes of secret writing.—The fifth part treats of Inks for writing, made in different countries, of various materials and colors,—as from gums, woods, the juice of plants, &c., and also of different kinds of varnishes.—The sixth part treats of the various operations of extracting vitriol, and of its chemical uses.
“This work abounds with a great variety of philosophical, chemical and historical knowledge, and will give great entertainment to those who wish for information on this subject.
“Many curious particulars concerning Ink will be found in “Weckerus de Secretis.” (Printed at Basle, in 1612, octavo.)—This gentleman also gives receipts for making Inks of the color of Gold and Silver, composed as well with those materials as without them,—also, directions for making a variety of Inks for secret writing, and for defacing of [effacing] Inks. There are many marvelous particulars in this last work, which will not easily gain credit with the judicious part of mankind.”
We have chosen to give Mr. Astle’s paragraphs on this subject, entire, “pure and simple,” (with no corrections or alterations, except as to a few particulars in spelling, punctuation, &c.,) including some unnecessary formal verbiage,—instead of embodying his facts and observations in our own language. We shall do likewise with other authors whose books we use in this work, as the most effectual way of giving each of them due credit for their several discoveries and statements, and, at the same time, securing our own just claims to what we herein present as of our own discovery or production. But we will give no credit to a mere compiler or plagiarist.
Mr. Astle was keeper of the ancient Records of the English Government in the Tower of London, and thus enjoyed extraordinary facilities for ascertaining such facts, and making such observations as he furnishes in his very useful, interesting, and elegantly illustrated book. As to what he says (in his seventh paragraph) about the inexpediency of “hazarding” any effort to revive writing which has faded or become illegible, from fear of “a suspicion of deceit,”—the caution must of course be limited to cases where the words proposed to be restored to legibility have reference to some question of disputed title, or other matter in litigation or controversy. Mr. Astle would not have hesitated (any more than Angelo Mai) to use any possible process for the restoration of a palimpsest manuscript of a long-lost work of Cicero or Livy, or of any document worth the labor and the time requisite to revive the letters or read them. Mr. Astle’s slight lapse of pen or mind in stating (eighth paragraph) that “Blue or yellow ink was seldom used except in manuscripts,” reminds us of Noah Webster’s reason, given in the first edition of his quarto dictionary, for the use of the word “Iland” instead of “Island,” viz., that the latter spelling was “found only in books.” Perhaps the venerable Mr. Astle would have been as much astonished to learn that he himself had always written manuscript, whenever he put pen to paper, as the Bourgeois Gentilhomme, in Moliere’s comedy, was to learn that he “had been speaking prose all his life.”
A comparatively recent author gives the following as the sum and substance of his knowledge on this division of the subject of our book.