| JOHN WALTHOE. |
| R. WARE. |
The natural result, moreover, of this decline was, in the following century, followed by what practically amounts to extinction; and the few exceptions to which we shall refer, and which are to some extent selected at random, prove the truth of that theory. Thomas Creede, 1588–1618, whose shop was at the sign of the Catherine Wheel, near the Old Swan in Thames Street, was one of the prolific printers of the period, and his most common Mark is a personification of Truth, with a hand issuing from the clouds striking on her back with a rod, and encircled with the motto, “Veritas virescit vulnere.” Among the numerous books which he printed was Henry Butte’s “Digets Dry Dinner,” 1599, for William Wood, a bookseller whose shop was at the sign of Time, St. Paul’s Churchyard, and whose Mark was an almost exact copy of one employed by Conrad Bade, a sixteenth century printer of Paris and Geneva (who had apparently adopted his from that of Knoblouch of Strassburg, which we give on another page): it represents a winged figure of Time helping a naked woman out of what appears to be a cave, with the motto, “Tempore patet occulata veritas”; this Mark follows the introductory matter in the above-named work. Making a leap of over half a century, we come across another ambitious Mark, which in the present instance served the additional purpose of a frontispiece; it was employed by John Allen of the Rising Sun, St. Paul’s Churchyard, and is dated 1656; it is rather a fine device of the sun rising behind the hills, with a cathedral on the left-hand side, and the inscription “Ipswiche” and a coat-of-arms, apparently of that city. Although not exactly a printer’s or publisher’s Mark, the charming little plate, engraved by Clark, which John Walthoe, Jr., inserted on the title-page of “The Hive: a collection of the most celebrated Songs,” 1724, is sufficiently near it to be worth reproducing here. T. Cox, a bookseller of “The Lamb,” under the Royal Exchange, Cornhill, was fortunate enough to have a Mark (see [page 46]), in which John Pine is seen at his best: Cox was not only an eminent bookseller, but was also an exchange-broker. Of much less delicate workmanship, but appropriate nevertheless, is the Mark which we find on the title-pages of the books printed for R. Ware, at the Bible and Sun in Warwick Lane, one of whose books, Dr. Warren’s “Impartial Churchman,” 1728, contains at the end of the first chapter another Mark, an exceedingly rough sketch of a printing-office, with the motto, “vitam mortuis reddo.” On books intended more or less for particular schools, the Printer’s Mark usually takes the shape of the arms of the schools themselves, as in the case of Westminster and Eton; and the same may be said of books printed at Oxford and Cambridge, in the former case a very fine view of the Sheldonian Theatre usually appearing on the title-page of books printed there. John Scolar is an interesting figure among the very early printers of Oxford, and from 1518 he was the official printer of the University; in one of the books he issued there is cited an edict of the Chancellor, under his official seal, enjoining that for a period of seven years to come, no person should venture to print that work, or even to sell copies of it elsewhere printed within Oxford and its precincts, under pain of forfeiting the copies, and paying a fine of five pounds sterling, and other penalties. Scolar’s Mark is one of the very few in which a book appears. John Siberch, the first Cambridge printer, apparently had two Marks, one of which—the Royal Arms, which was the sign of the house he occupied—appears on four of the eight books printed by him at Cambridge in or about 1521; of the second we give a facsimile from his first book, Galen, “De Temperamentis.” The Mark of the majority of eighteenth century booksellers and printers consisted of a monogram formed either with their initials or names. During a portion of his career Jacob Tonson used a bust of what purported to be Shakespeare, partly from the fact that for many years the copyright of the great dramatist’s works belonged to him and partly because one of his shops had for its sign, “The Shakespeare’s Head.”
JOHN SCOLAR.
| JOHN SIBERCH. |
The earliest Printers’ Marks of Scottish printers are not of the first importance, but they are sufficiently interesting to merit notice. Walter Chepman and Andro Myllar were granted a patent for the erection of a printing-press at Edinburgh on September 15, 1507, the former finding the money and the latter the knowledge. Each had his distinctive Mark, both of which are of French origin—a theory which is easily proved so far as Myllar’s is concerned from the fact that it displays two small shields at the top corners, each charged with the fleur-de-lys. Myllar’s device, in which we see a windmill with a miller ascending the outside ladder, carrying a sack of grain on his back, is an obvious pun on his name, and was, perhaps, suggested by the Mark of Jehan Moulin, Paris. Chepman’s is a very close copy of that of Pigouchet, Paris, the male and female figures being carefully copied even to the small crosses on their knees; the initials W C are elegantly interlaced. Thomas Davidson is a very interesting figure in the early history of Scottish typography; he appears to have been the first king’s printer of his country, and one of his earliest works is “Ad Serenissimum Scotorum Regem Jacobum Quintum de suscepto Regni Regimine a diis feliciter ominato Strena,” circa 1525; about ten years later came a translation of the “Chronicles of Scotland,” compiled by Boece, and “translatit be maister Johne Bellenden;” Davidson’s Mark is of the same character as Chepman’s, but is, if possible, even more roughly drawn and engraved; whilst Bassandyne copied the device of Crespin of Geneva, with the initials T. B. instead I. C. Arbuthnot’s device of the Pelican, which he used in two sizes, and the Marks of Thomas Vautrollier, have been already referred to. Coming down to the last twenty years of the sixteenth century, we find the few books of Henry Charteris of considerable and varied interest, and his Mark, if by no means carefully drawn and engraved, has at all events the merit of being fairly original.
