After a lapse of four years, a meeting of the subscribers to the Caxton Testimonial was advertised for the 10th of July, to "consider an offer made by the Coalbrookdale Iron Company to erect an iron statue of Caxton—and, in the event of the proposal being adopted, to determine the best means of carrying the same into effect." I was much astonished at this announcement. A meeting to consider an offer to perpetuate a fiction in connexion with an art which surpasses all other arts in its power of establishing truth! On reflection, I became calm; and felt that Mr. Henry Cole, the honorary secretary, was perfectly right in adopting the customary phraseology. The result of this meeting is a desideratum. It seems to have been private; for an examination of 300 columns of The Times, being, the history of four days, did not lead to the discovery of one word on the iron statue of Caxton.
If the statue-mania did not now prevail to an unexampled extent, I should feel much confidence in the sound sense of the subscribers—but I have my misgivings.
According to my feelings, which I avail myself of this opportunity of recording, we may commemorate an eminent individual in better ways than by the erection of a statue; the philanthropist, by an alms-house—the scholar, by scholarships—the naval commander, by a sea-mark—etc. Admitting that a statue may sometimes be the most desirable form of monument, the statue of an individual of whose features we are in entire ignorance is a misnomer. It is scarcely less than an absurdity.
As I have intimated that there is no authentic portrait of Caxton, I must now justify my conviction. Ames published a woodcut as a portrait of our venerable Caxton:[8] Dibdin discovered it to be a "portrait of Burchiello,"[9] an eccentric Florentine barber!—le poète le plus bizarre qui ait jamais écrit! Horace Walpole published a print said to represent earl Rivers "introducing Caxton to Edward IV."[10] It was copied from an illuminated MS. in the archiepiscopal library at Lambeth, No. 265. Now, what says Mr. Todd? "That Caxton printed this book in 1477, is well known. But what has that circumstance to do with the earl presenting or attending the presentation of his own manuscript? The figure here introduced by the earl is evidently, by the tonsure and habit, a priest; which Caxton was not."[11] I have heard of no other engraved portraits of Caxton.
[8] Typographical antiquities. London, 1749. 4to. p. 54.
[9] The bibliographical decameron. London, 1817. 8vo. ii. 288.
[10] Catalogue of royal and noble authors. Strawberry-hill, 1758. 8vo. i. 60.
[11] Catalogue of the archiepiscopal manuscripts at Lambeth. London, 1812. Fol. p. 37.
Viewing Caxton as a man of considerable literary abilities, and as the first English printer, I have now to propose for him a monument which shall do justice to his merits in both capacities—a monument which shall be visible at all times, and in all places: I propose a collective impression of his original compositions. Such a volume would be the best account of his life and works. It would also exhibit much of the literary history of the times—some sound criticism and notions on editorship—and curious specimens of the style of our forefathers. It would comprise what no wealth could procure—what no single library could produce. It would be, to use the forcible words of messieurs Visconti and Castellan, on a somewhat similar occasion, "un monument plus utile et plus durable que ceux même que l'on peut ériger avec le marbre et le bronze."[12]
[12] Journal des savans. 1818. 4to. p. 389.