Early Typography.

PRINTED AT COLOMBO,
BY WILLIAM SKEEN, GOVERNMENT PRINTER,
CEYLON.

EARLY TYPOGRAPHY.

BY
WILLIAM SKEEN.

COLOMBO: CEYLON.
1872.

The accumulation of materials in the writer’s hands in the course of the last twelve months, has induced him to depart from his original intention of limiting his labours to a single book. A sketch of the history of the spread of the Art, after the sack of Mentz in 1462, with notices of the most material improvements and recent inventions connected with it, will, consequently, form the subjects of a separate volume. It only remains for him now thankfully to acknowledge his obligations to Mrs. J. Ferguson, and Messrs. Iliff, Ronald, and Paatz, of Colombo, for their most kindly rendered assistance, by which he has been enabled to complete this portion of his work much earlier than he otherwise could have done.

January 20, 1872.

Inventors of the Art Sublime

Which Knowledge spreads thro’ every clime;

Who far the fabled god excell’d,

Prometheus, from heaven expell’d.

Material fire he brought to earth,

They flames of a diviner birth

Drew from the seven-fold source of light

Seen in the Patmos vision bright,

When, the celestial portals raised,

Man, on the Godhead’s glories gazed.

Majestic Truth they thus reveal’d,

By powers of Darkness long conceal’d;

Ope’d Freedom’s doors to fetter’d Thought

And forces into conflict brought—

Mind against mind—an eager fray

That shall not cease till Time’s last day;

That keener as the contest grows,

Truth greater, purer, mightier shews.

Thus Knowledge each successive age

Advances, wins an onward stage,

And gathers in one focus bright

Each fresh struck spark, each ray of light,

And clears the mists that still are found

Historic names and deeds around.

This light, that truth reveals, t’ impart,

I seek, Disciple of the Art;

That to the famed Teutonic three

Just meeds of praise may given be;

That all aright the men may know

To whom Typography we owe;

The men whose names immortal ring,

Whose gifts transcendent blessings bring,

Whose monuments in every land

By wisdom rear’d, heart-honor’d stand,

Inscribed in tongues of every clime—

“Inventors of the Art Sublime!”

W. S.

CONTENTS.

PREFACE.

The germ of the present work was a Lecture delivered by the writer before the Members of the Colombo Athenæum, on the 24th February 1853. That Lecture was fully reported at the time in the Colombo Observer, and a few copies were subsequently printed for private distribution. These having been disposed of, the writer’s attention was directed to the preparation of a more extended essay upon the subject. The result of his labours is now submitted to the public. The work makes no pretension to the character of an exhaustive treatise; it is, in fact, but little more than a broad outline of the subject which it ventures to describe; but it is hoped, that a fresh interest may have been imparted to some of the topics touched upon, and that they will be found placed in a light which, if not wholly new, is at any rate somewhat clearer than that in which they have hitherto been exhibited.

W. S.

Colombo, Ceylon,

April 29, 1871.

Early Typography.
CHAPTER I.

Introductory.—Letter-press Printing the “Divine and Noble” Art—why so termed.—Freedom of the Press—where first proclaimed.—Printing known in China from time immemorial.—Method of Chinese printing.—Bibliography and Palæotypography.

Printing is the art of producing copies of engraved writings or designs, by pressure, either upon the inked surfaces of characters raised in relief, or on metal plates, the upper surfaces of which are polished, and the sunk engravings charged with colour. The most important, if not the oldest branch of this art, is that of Typography, or Letter-press Printing. To this Art, as it was invented and perfected in Europe in the Fifteenth century, the epithets Divine and Noble have not untruly been applied.

It is Noble, not merely because it is one of those arts or professions, the practice of which was permitted to the nobility of the German Empire, but because it is the nurse and preserver of all other arts and sciences; and is unquestionably the most important as well as the most beneficial invention the world has ever seen. It is the disseminator of every other discovery; the commemorator of all other inventions: it hands down to posterity every important event; immortalizes the actions of the great and good; and requires, moreover, in all who would thoroughly excel in its practice, the highest attainable combination of mental alacrity, educated intelligence, and expert manual dexterity.

It is Divine, inasmuch as it is one of the grand instruments in the hands of Providence for the regeneration of fallen humanity. By it the mightiest movement the world has ever seen since the days when the Apostolic Twelve went about “turning it upside down,”—the Great Reformation of the Sixteenth century,—was mainly effected. Without it the Word of God could not have been diffused, as it has been, is being, and will continue to be, to every nation and tribe and people and tongue throughout the world: while but for it England and the Anglo-Saxon race, who owe it so much for the stability and uniformity it gave to their language,[1] would never have attained their present proud pre-eminence amongst the nations of the earth.

Religion, Arts, Sciences, Commerce, and Civilization, have had the greatest scope, and been most fully developed, wherever the Press has been the least restricted. Its free action is as necessary to the well being of a State, as the free action of the lungs is to the well being of the human body. This is well illustrated in the history of unhappy Poland, where the Liberty of the Press was first proclaimed in the Sixteenth century. But the narrow-minded bigots who succeeded the monarch who proclaimed it, beheld in it a portent foreboding evil to themselves; and they not only speedily abrogated it, but followed up that step with measures destructive of the most cherished privileges of the Polish nation.[2] The result was fatal, as well to the country as to the kings who misruled it. Corrupted, crushed, enslaved,—every vent for the expression of patriotic feeling choked up,—and the voice of the people stifled by the stern gripe of the strong hand of the despot,—the doom went forth, and the record against her was written as against Great Babylon of old,—“Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin.” “God hath numbered thy kingdom and finished it. Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting. Thy kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.”

The Freedom of the Press is the birthright of the Anglo-Saxon race,—the hard-won palladium of all other rights; and yet, while there are few amongst that race who do not rightly appreciate the blessings flowing therefrom, the great majority are ignorant of the origin or the history of the Art, the privileges of which they so highly prize, and over which, with watchful jealousy, they guard against every thing that bears the semblance of encroachment. This ignorance is doubtless, in the main, owing to the expensive nature and technical character of many of the works in which such information has been published. These works, forming of themselves a distinct class of literature, are neither few in number, nor wanting in interest. Some of the more important are indeed hardly procurable; and in the far East, where works of the kind must be imported for individual use, writing upon special subjects of European lore is beset with difficulties from which authors in the mother country are happily relieved.[3] Acting however, on the maxim of Lord Bacon, “that every man is a debtor to his profession, from the which as men do, of course, seek to receive countenance and profit, so ought they, of duty, to endeavour themselves by way of amends to be a help thereunto,” I have spared no pains in this endeavour; and am not without hope of imparting to my readers some interesting particulars concerning the origin and history of the Noble Art

“That stamps, renews, and multiplies at will,

And cheaply circulates through distant climes

The fairest relics of the purest times,”—

thus creating “a moral atmosphere which is, as it were, the medium of intellectual life, on the quality of which, according as it may be salubrious or vicious, the health of the public mind depends.”[4]

Printing from surfaces of wood, engraved in relief, is an art which appears to have been known in China from time immemorial. Its origin there is hidden in the obscurity of bye-gone ages: it may have been practised by the Chinese from the very commencement of their empire;[5] or the idea may have been derived at a later period from blotting-paper impressions of writings, or from tracings or rubbings of inscriptions, which travellers from ‘the flowery land’ may have taken, in foreign countries, on sheets of paper, such as are known to have been manufactured in China from times of a very remote antiquity, and which are to this day better adapted for such purposes than any papers elsewhere made. Such rubbings, forming a kind of papier-mâché castings,[6] would naturally suggest, not only the idea of stereo-blocks, whereon writings in reversed characters could be engraved in relief, but also the mode of printing, which, to the present day, prevails throughout the Chinese empire. With the fact before us, that the Chinese were, up to a certain period in their history, far ahead of all other nations, not even excepting the Egyptians, in the development of inventions which could only be the product of an advanced state of civilization, it is not unreasonable to conclude, (especially in the absence of positive information to help us in our researches), that the art of printing from blocks originated in China in the manner above stated. Whether such were the case or not, Du Halde, in order to establish its great antiquity, cites the following proverb, quoted by an old author as written by the Emperor Van Vong, who flourished 1120 years before Christ—“As the stone Me (a word signifying ink in the Chinese language) which is used to blacken the engraved characters, can never become white, so a heart blackened with vices, will always retain its blackness.” This quotation, however, not being very conclusive on the subject, he fixes the invention at fifty years before the Christian era.

Father Couplet, Klaproth, and others, ascribe it to a much later date. “Under the reign of Mint-song,” writes Klaproth, “in the second of the years Tchang-hing (932) the ministers Fong-tao and Li-yu proposed to the Academy Koue-tseu-kien to review the nine king or canonical books, and to have them engraved upon blocks of wood, that they might be printed and sold. The emperor adopted the advice; but it was only in the second of the years Kouan-chun (952) that the engraving of the blocks was completed. They were then distributed and circulated in all the cantons of the empire.”

But that the art was known and practised by the Chinese at a period still more remote, we learn from the 39th volume of the Chinese Encyclopædia, where we are informed, that on the eighth day of the twelfth month of the thirteenth year of the reign of Wen-ti, founder of the Souï dynasty (593) it was ordered by a decree to collect the worn out drawings and inedited texts, and to engrave them on wood and publish them. This fact is confirmed by various Chinese writings; and this, continues the work quoted, was the commencement of printing upon wooden blocks. Under the Thang dynasty, from 618 to 907, it grew much into use; made still greater progress during the five lesser dynasties, from 907 to 960; and reached its perfection and greatest development between 960 and 1278. But as block-printing was only for the first time imperially ordered in the year 593, it is very probable that the art was known long before that date. Had it then been a new invention, something surely would have been said about its origin and author.

The following particulars relative to Chinese printing are given by Du Halde.

“The work intended to be printed is transcribed by a careful writer upon thin transparent paper: the engraver glues each of these written sheets, with its face downwards, upon a smooth tablet of pear or apple tree, or some other hard wood; and then with gravers and other instruments, he cuts the wood away in all those parts upon which he finds nothing traced [as in the fac-simile[7] in the margin]; thus leaving the reversed characters ready for printing.... When once the blocks are engraved, the paper is cut, and the ink is ready, one man with his brush can, without fatigue, print ten thousand sheets in a day. The block to be printed must be placed level, and firmly fixed. The man must have two brushes; one of them of a stiffer kind, which he can hold in his hand, and use at either end. He dips this into the ink, and rubs the block with it; taking care not to wet it too much, nor to leave it too dry.... The second brush is used to rub over the paper with a small degree of pressure, that it may take the impression: this it does easily, for not being sized with alum, it receives the ink the instant it comes in contact with it. It is only necessary that the brush should be passed over every part of the sheet with a greater or smaller degree of pressure, and repeated in proportion as the printer finds there is more or less ink upon the block.”

The number of copies which, according to Du Halde, a Chinese workman can print in a day, is greatly exaggerated. About four thousand, or four hundred an hour, is the utmost that the most expert workman would be able to throw off.

To the above account it may be added, that the blocks, each containing two pages, are frequently engraved on both sides; that the sheets printed are small, and impressed on one side only; and that each sheet when dry is folded back, so as to present the appearance of a leaf impressed on both sides.

The history of printing in China, and the productions of the Chinese press, are subjects which Oriental bibliographers have more or less touched upon. Interesting as they are, there will probably be no occasion to allude to them in these pages more than once again.

But the history of books in Europe, the productions of the early printers in the various countries to which they carried their art, is one to which our subject is most closely allied; and European bibliography is a study to which many men of great ability have devoted themselves during the last three centuries, in Germany, Holland, England, Spain, France, Italy, Belgium, and other countries. To their labours all later writers on the subject are under manifold obligations.[8] But in attributing various undated books to one or other of the earliest established presses, guess-work, and the bias of national prejudice, have largely prevailed amongst even the most painstaking of European bibliographers. This unscientific method, long felt to be a reproach to learning and literature, has of late years been attempted to be remedied by a more close and critical examination of the Incunabula, or books printed in the Fifteenth century. “The method of arranging these early books under the countries, towns, and presses at which they were produced,” says Mr. Henry Bradshaw, the Librarian of the University of Cambridge, “is the only one which can really advance our knowledge of the subject. This is comparatively easy with dated books, though there is no safeguard against the misleading nature of an erroneous date. But the study is of little use unless the bibliographer will be content to make such an accurate and methodical study of the types used and habits of printing observable at different presses, as to enable him to observe and be guided by these characteristics in settling the date of a book which bears no date on the surface. We do not want the opinion or dictum of any bibliographer, however experienced; we desire that the types and habits of each printer should be made a special subject of study, and those points brought forward which shew changes or advance from year to year, or where practicable, from month to month. When this is done, we have to say of any dateless or falsely dated book, that it contains such and such characteristics, and we therefore place it at such a point of time, the time we name being merely another expression for the characteristics we notice in the book. In fact each press must be looked upon as a genus, and each book as a species, and our business is to trace the more or less close connection of the different members of the family, according to the characters which they present to our observation.”

The study thus defined is designated Palæotypography; and concerning it Mr. Bradshaw further says, “except Mr. Blades’s monograph of Caxton’s press,[9] the Hague Catalogus[10] and Monumens Typographiques[11] are the only books existing in any literature, so far as I know, which render the study of palæotypography in any way possible upon a proper basis. Germany, Italy, France, and Spain, are at present perfectly impracticable fields of work, and are, I fear, likely to remain so for some time to come.”[12]

Respecting Mr. Bradshaw’s own labours in this field of investigation, Mr. Frederick Müller of Amsterdam, an enthusiastic bibliographer of rare power, bears the following testimony:[13]—“Hardly anybody in England takes an interest in foreign bibliography—the only exception being that excellent bibliographer, Henry Bradshaw, Fellow of King’s College, Cambridge, who is examining with great enthusiasm the Incunabula Typographica, and who has lately arrived at most surprising and important results in this department.... I do not know which most to admire—the acumen of the conjectures about the places where some of the works were printed, or the clearness with which the writer treats several very difficult subjects.... This method of ascribing a work solely from the appearance of the types used, he carries to the utmost point of application.... Mr. Bradshaw is the first who turns to advantage the excellent lessons of the French and German bibliographers, and through him a new light will probably arise in English bibliography.”

To the researches of Mr. Bradshaw and Mr. Blades, and to the labours of Mr. Ottley[14] and Mr. Humphreys,[15] in their last published works, I am greatly indebted. The interesting information they have accumulated I have freely made use of in the preparation of this volume, although I differ considerably from some of the conclusions which one or other of them has arrived at.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “The multiplication of printed books and the consequent still greater multiplication of readers, created, what may be termed a literary public throughout England, and when the printed copies of a book from Caxton’s press were spread throughout this public, each member of it used a copy that was uniform with the copies used by all the rest. But before printing was known, and while copies of a book could be made in manuscript only, the transcribers were apt to introduce changes of spelling, of syntax, and of phrase, according to the dialect of the part of the country to which each copyist belonged. And the dialects of different parts of England differed then from each other in a far greater degree than any amount of variation which can at present be detected by the most zealous philologist. Moreover, each author wrote in his own dialect, or to speak more correctly, in the pure native English of his own part of England. Hence the diction of an author of those times in many cases appears to us more archaic than the diction of his contemporaries, or even of some of his predecessors. But in proportion as men of letters became familiar in their reading with the nearly uniform English language of printed books, they followed or approached that uniform English in their own writings. The language continued to receive changes by the introduction of new words and phrases, and by the zeal for imitating Latin models, which grew to excess in many of our prose writers not long after the close of the Fifteenth century. Many more modifications of etymology, and some of syntax, took place before the modern English language can be said to have been substantially established throughout the country; but that amount of uniform establishment never could have been effected at all, without the intervention and the extended use of the art of printing.”—Sir Edward S. Creasy’s History of England. 8vo. 1870. vol. ii. pp. 556–7.

What the Art of Printing did in this respect for England, it likewise did in all other countries to which it was carried, in greater or lesser degrees, according to the amount of freedom it enjoyed, or of restriction to which it, and the people to whom it spoke, were subjected.

[2] Vide Reformation of Poland, by Count V. Krasinski, 2 vols. 8vo. Nisbet, 1838–40.

[3] For assistance in this matter, I am much indebted to my father, Mr. Robert Skeen, under whose able teachings I was thoroughly instructed in, and made a master of my craft—the Art of Printing. I have also to acknowledge, with thanks, the material aid received from Mr. H. W. Caslon, the eminent Type-founder, as well as from my publishers, Messrs. Trübner and Co., of Paternoster Row.

[4] Southey’s “Colloquies.”

[5] A reference can scarcely be avoided, in connection with this subject, to the exclamation of the patriarch Job (ch. xix. 23, 24), “Oh that my words were now written! Oh that they were printed in a book! That they were graven with an iron pen, and lead, in the rock for ever!” The book of Job is commonly supposed to have been written either by Moses, when residing amongst the Midianites about 1520 years before the commencement of the Christian era, or by Elihu, one of the speakers in the book, which would probably carry its antiquity a century and a half or two centuries further back. The word translated ‘printed’ does not, however, bear the meaning in the original, which is now generally attached to it. It evidently refers to the method of inscribing records on rolls, made of the skins of animals, for the purpose of preserving them for the benefit of future generations, or on such other substances as were then used for that purpose; and in the texts quoted the modes of writing and the instruments for inscribing are expressly referred to. Plates of metal, and prepared leaves of the talipot palm, are to this day engraved and inscribed on, in Eastern countries, with iron ‘styles,’ for purposes of record. Books of the laws of Buddha exist on plates of gold, as well as on the more common olas; and although we do not know upon what material Moses transcribed the Law, which God himself commanded him to write, and to place in the side of the Ark of the Covenant, we may be certain that it would be written on the most imperishable, as well as the most portable of substances adapted for such a purpose, Moses being learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and having for his assistants the most skilful artisans of the age. The Ten Commandments we know were graven on tablets of stone hewn out of the rock. From tablets such as these, and from engraved plates, as well as from inscribed olas, copies and fac-similes might have been easily made by a process analogous to that of copper-plate printing; the only drawback being that in all such copies the printed characters would have been reversed. That the Hebrews must have been familiar with books, such as were referred to by Job, is clear. In Egypt, during the time of their residence in that country, Public Libraries existed:—“Over the mouldering door which led to the bibliothetical repository of the Memnonium, said to have been built about the time of Moses, Champollion read, written over the heads of Thoth and Safkh, (who were the male and female deities of arts, sciences, and literature), the remarkably appropriate titles of ‘President of the Library,’ and ‘Lady of Letters.’” (Kitto’s Cycl. of Bibl. Literature, Art. Writing). The Egyptians probably derived their knowledge of writing from Misraim the son of Ham, as did the Canaanites from Canaan the brother of Misraim, from whom they were descended. There is proof in the sculptured pictures and inscriptions in the oldest Egyptian monuments, of about the same age as the Great Pyramid, that 2200 years B. C., writing was an art well known at that early period. “Whatever the employment, or whatever the produce being brought to be laid at the prince’s feet, there were always scribes in attendance to take down the exact amount in writing on the property rolls.” (Vide Life and Work at the Great Pyramid in 1865, by C. Piazzi Smyth, Astronomer Royal, Scotland; and article in Good Words, Part VII, 1867, by the same author, p. 453.) When the Israelites took possession of the land of Canaan, among other great and walled cities which they captured was Debir, whose original name was Kirjath-sepher, or the City of Books, or Kirjath-sannah, the City of Letters, (Joshua xv. 49; Judges i. 11). This word “sannah” is evidently the same as “sannas,” the name given to oblong copper-plates, on which are engraved the record of the grants of lands, &c., made from very ancient times by the kings of Ceylon, to temples, chiefs, and others; and which are frequently, under that name, received in evidence in the law courts in disputes regarding landed property. They are, in fact, the title-deeds under which most of the Sin̥halese

gentry of ancient family hold their estates. These royal grants are sometimes on plates of silver, and occasionally cut in the solid rock or on massive stone tablets.

[6] Plaster casts of inscriptions might also have suggested the same idea. The use of plaster, for the purposes of inscriptions, dates back to a very ancient era. It seems to have been as old as the art of writing itself. We learn from the book of Deuteronomy (xxvii. 2–4), that while the Children of Israel were yet wandering in the desert, after their exodus from Egypt, it was ordained, that when they had passed into Canaan,—the land which should be given them,—great stones, plaistered over with plaister, should be set up, on which stones should be written “very plainly” all the words of the law.

[7] “Sy-chong-n̥gén-pon,”

the name of a Chinese Song-book.

[8] The following alphabetical list includes the most distinguished of these writers:—Andrès, Antonio, Baillet, Bayle, Blount, Bouterwek, Brucker, Brunet, Buhle, Chalmers, Collier, Corniani, De Bure, De Vries, Dibdin, Ebert, Eichhorn, Falkenstein, Fischer, Foppens, Frere, Gesner, Ginguéné, Goujet, Graesse, Greswell, Hallam, Hain, Heeren, Horne, Kästner, Mallinckrot, Maittaire, Maitland, Meiners, Mendez, Montucla, Naudé, Niceron, Panzer, Portal, Santander, Sismondi, Sprengel, Sotheby, Tennemann, Tiraboschi, Vanderhaeghen, Van der Meersch, Van Iseghem, Van Praet, Watt, Wolf, Würdtwein, Zapf.

[9] The Life and Typography of William Caxton, by William Blades. 2 vols. 4to. with 57 fac-simile illustrations. London, 1861–63.

[10] Catalogus Librorum Sæc. XVI. impressorum, in Bibliotheca Regia Haganâ asservatorum, 8vo. Hagae, 1856.

[11] Monumens Typographiques des Pays Bas au XVe Siècle, 20 livraisons, imp. 4to. 120 plates of fac-similes. La Haye, 1857–66. Of this magnificent work only 200 copies were printed.

[12] Classified Index of Fifteenth Century Books in the Collection of the late M. J. de Meyer of Ghent. 8vo. London, 1870. pp. 15–16.

[13] Trübner’s American and Oriental Literary Record, July, 1870.

[14] Inquiry concerning the Invention of Printing, by W. Y. Ottley. 4to. 37 plates, and other engravings. London, 1863.

[15] A History of the Art of Printing: Its Invention and Progress to the Middle of the Sixteenth Century, by H. Noel Humphreys. imp. 4to. 105 photo-lithographic fac-similes. London, 1869.

Early Typography.
CHAPTER II.

Date of the Origin of Typography in Europe.—Alleged early Engravings.—Playing Cards.—Block-books.—Mr. F. Holt’s Hypothesis.—Evidence of Costume.—German “Brief-malers.”—Decree of Government of Venice.—State of Europe in the Middle Ages.—Cultivation of Classical Literature at the close of the Fourteenth and commencement of the Fifteenth Century.

It has been a question much debated, whether the Art of Printing was not introduced to Europe from the East at a much earlier period than that generally assigned as the date of its invention; and we are informed by Klaproth, that it might have been known in Europe a hundred and fifty years prior to its discovery by the Germans, if Europeans had been able to read and translate the Persian historians, as the Chinese method of printing is clearly explained in the Djemm’a-et-tewarikh, by Rachid-Eddin, who finished this immense work about the year 1310.

On this subject, Mr. William Savage, a well-known printer, and a gentleman to whom the public and the profession are indebted for several valuable works on the art, states, in the preface to a volume published in 1841,—“The dates given of the introduction of the practice into Europe by previous writers, are unquestionably erroneous, as we have conclusive evidence of its being followed as a profession for nearly a century before the earliest date they give:”—and he announced his intention of embodying the facts and information he had been for a long period collecting, in another work, as hitherto, he declares, there has in reality been but little said on the History or Practice of Printing, the numerous works on the subject being chiefly copies from one or two of the earlier writers. This is true enough. From the very nature of the case it can scarcely be otherwise, until and unless the discovery of fresh facts, or the investigations of fresh inquirers lead to conclusions different to those which had previously been generally received.

It is possible, nay probable, that a knowledge of the art, as practised in China, may have been carried to Europe by the Venetian travellers, or traders, at a very early date; but, as no account is known to exist that such really was the case, so no certain conclusion on the subject can be arrived at. Whether it was so or not, there is little difficulty in supposing that on many occasions attempts might be made similar to that contained in the much disputed account given by Papillon of the discovery at Bagneux, a village near Mont-Rouge, in the library of M. De Greder, a Swiss Captain, of a work, lent to M. De Greder by M. Sperchtvel, another Swiss Officer, supposed to have been printed in 1284 or 1285. This work, which has never since been seen, is said to have borne the following inscription in old Italian.

“The heroic actions, represented in figures, of the great and magnanimous Macedonian king, the bold and valiant Alexander; dedicated, presented, and humbly offered to the most holy Father, Pope Honorius IV, the glory and support of the Church, and to our illustrious and generous father and mother, by us Allessandro-Alberico Cunio, Cavaliere, and Isabella Cunio, twin brother and sister: first reduced, imagined, and attempted to be executed in relief with a small knife on blocks of wood made even and polished by this learned and dear sister, continued and finished by us together, at Ravenna, from the eight pictures of our invention, painted six times larger than here represented; engraved, explained by verses, and thus marked upon the paper to perpetuate the number of them, and to enable us to present them to our relations and friends, in testimony of gratitude, friendship, and affection. All this was done and finished by us when only 16 years of age.”

Interesting as this statement is, and correct as it possibly may be, it can scarcely be accepted as an historical fact, inasmuch as no one but the alleged discoverer appears ever to have seen the originals.

[Copy of an Inscription on the first leaf of the “Speculum Humanæ Salvationis.”]

Besides the preceding doubtful account we have notices of a print in the Library of Lyons with the date 1384. Specimens of engravings of playing cards, as well as of saints, said to have been produced in the years 1390 and 1400 are also extant. From the year 1400 to 1440 other and more elaborate engravings, of a devotional character, are likewise to be met with. One of the most curious, representing St. Christopher carrying the infant Saviour across the sea, is in the possession of Earl Spencer, and bears the date 1423. A few years later we find similar prints accompanied with explanatory inscriptions or texts of Scripture placed beneath them; next came whole series of these prints published together as a book; and lastly, the small Latin Grammars of Donatus, the common school-books of the day, engraved and printed in like manner. These productions are distinguished by Bibliographers as Block-books, and nine or ten different specimens are known to exist. Of these the most remarkable are the Biblia Pauperum, or Poor Man’s Bible,[16] a book containing 40 pages of quarto, or small folio prints, with several engravings with inscriptions upon each page, supposed to have been executed (most probably at Zwolle[17] in Holland) between the years 1420 and 1435; and the Speculum Humanæ Salvationis,[18] or Mirror of Salvation, a book containing 63 leaves in the two Latin, and 62 in the two Dutch editions, (each in small folio), 58 of which are ornamented with engravings representing stories from the Old and New Testaments, beneath which are more copious explanatory inscriptions than those in the “Biblia Pauperum.” These editions are supposed to have been published between the years 1430 and 1457.

Mean as these books would seem if issued from the press at the present day, they were wonderful productions for the age in which they appeared; and although the first named was called the ‘Poor Man’s Bible,’ or ‘Book of the Poor,’ it was only in comparison with the cost of a written copy of the Holy Scriptures, which was worth the, in that day, enormous sum of £100.[19] As very few copies are now in existence, (and those generally in an imperfect state), they have literally become worth more than their weight in gold: a copy of the Biblia Pauperum having been bought by the Duke of Marlborough, after a keen competition at an auction sale in 1813, for the almost fabulous sum of £257.

It was from these early Block-books, or Donatuses, that Gutenberg, as we learn from the statement of Ulric Zell,—a contemporary, and working printer at Mentz with the original inventors while the art was yet a secret,—derived his idea of printing as at present practised. In the words of Mr. Charles Knight, in his interesting biography of the venerable Caxton, the Father of the Art in England,—“To seize upon the idea, that the text or legend might be composed of separate letters, capable of re-arrangement after the impressions were taken off, so as to be applied without new cutting to other texts and legends, was to secure the principle upon which the printing art depended. It was easy to extend the principle from a few lines to a whole page, and from one page to many, so as to form a book.”

Such, according to the almost universally adopted belief, were the successive steps which led to the invention of Typography. And for nearly a century no one had ventured to doubt that either images of saints, or characters for playing cards, were first printed from engraved wooden blocks, as cheap substitutes for the works of the draftsman and painter;—that these were succeeded by subjects of sacred history with explanatory legends cut in wood, imitative of the art of the illuminator, and the caligraphy of the scribes or professional writers;—that these again were followed by Donatuses;—and that from these Donatuses, printed from solid blocks, Gutenberg obtained his first idea of the Typographic Art.

But in 1868 an altogether new hypothesis was propounded at the annual congress of the British Archæological Association, held that year at Cirencester. It was there maintained, in a paper read by Mr. Henry F. Holt, that printing from moveable types, as practised in Europe, preceded in point of time that of printing from engravings on wood. After a careful inspection of the celebrated print of St. Christopher, in Earl Spencer’s library at Althorp, he contended,—“that the date 1423 is not that of the engraving, but of the legend beneath it, which had been copied by the engraver, and has reference to the jubilee year of the Saint; that it has been printed by a press, and with printer’s ink; and, what is more important, upon paper which exhibits the well-known water-mark of the bull or heifer’s head, with a flower issuant between the horns, which was used by Faust, and supposed to have been made for him.[20] He has shewn, that the discovery of this supposed early engraving instigated the fabrication of several similar, which were stained with coffee to give them the appearance of age. He further maintains, that the block-books,—originally, in his opinion, produced by the celebrated painter and engraver Albrecht Durer,—were cheap substitutes for the highly-priced productions of the Printing press.” And he challenges literature “to prove, that a copy of the block-book known as the ‘Biblia Pauperum,’ was actually in any known library, public or private, prior to 1485, or known then to be in existence.”[21] “All this has,” as Mr. Planché observes, “naturally aroused a host of antagonists, who have more or less courteously contradicted, without convincing Mr. Holt, by the production of any incontrovertible fact, which would refute the evidence he adduces in support of his arguments. Alone and undismayed, he still gallantly defies all comers.”

Guided by the test of costume,—“a test which he has never known applied in vain, when called to the assistance of the critical inquirer,”—Mr. Planché, while abstaining from the expression of an opinion upon the principal point in dispute, shews, as a matter of fact in regard to playing cards, that “with the exception of those by the Master of 1466 [an engraver only known by that designation], and a set of “tarots,” called the Mantegna Cards,[22] on one of which is the date 1483, all the specimens of printed playing cards that he has met with display the unmistakeable character of the fashions of Germany, France, and England, during the latter half of the Fifteenth century, and the greatest portion those of the very latest part,—Louis XI, Charles VIII, of France; Edward IV, and Henry VII, of England; and Maximilian I, Emperor of Germany.”[23]

So far, then, the evidence of the playing cards seems to support the hypothesis of Mr. Holt.

[The Knave of Bells, 1390.]

Most of the early prints are certainly of an extremely rude type, consisting chiefly of mere outlines of figures; in the one case of saints, copied from the illuminated Missals, and in the other, of characters for playing cards similar to the foregoing fac-simile, afterwards coloured in imitation of paintings. Very probably they may have been made, in the first instance, by means of stencil plates; if not, the impressions were obtained from the engraved blocks by friction, after the Chinese manner. Whichever was the method adopted, the ‘Brief-malers’ or card painters of Germany seem to have run their Italian brethren hard in the race of competition in the first half of the Fifteenth century, as we learn from a decree of the Government of Venice, bearing date the 11th October 1441; which, after stating that the art and mystery of making cards and printed figures had fallen into decay, from the numbers printed out of Venice, ordains—“That it be ordered and established, according to that which certain masters had supplicated, that from this time in future no work of the said art that is printed or painted[24] on cloth or on paper, that is to say, altar pieces, images, and playing cards, and whatever other work of the said art is done with a brush and printed,[25] shall be allowed to be brought or imported into this city under pain of forfeiting the works so imported, and xxx livres and xii soldi,[26] of which fine one-third shall go to the state, one-third to Signor Giustizieri Vecchi, to whom the affair is committed, and one-third to the accuser.” The worthy magistrates of Venice were excellent Protectionists in their day and generation; but this antique method of printing, either from engraved wooden blocks, or with stencilling plates and brushes, had soon to give way to the newer art of Typography; and twenty-eight years after the promulgation of this decree we find printed works issuing from the press of John and Vandeline of Spire, established in Venice in the year 1469.

It is a moot point among antiquarians when playing cards were first printed. The commonly received opinion of their invention in 1392 for the amusement of the insane King, Charles VI of France, is decidedly erroneous.[27] On this subject Mr. Planché writes,—“There is plenty of evidence to prove that cards, drawn, painted, and gilded by the hand, like those of Jacquemin-Gringonneur, and to which the name of ‘Tarot cards’ has been given, found their way into Europe from the East in the Fourteenth century, or perhaps earlier; but they had nothing in common with those to which we are accustomed, although they might have suggested them, and the fact in no wise affects the question of printing by means of wood-blocks only.”[28]

That this art—the art of printing by pressure to obtain copies, in ink, from separable types or letters—had not been attempted to be carried into effect at a much earlier period than the time when Gutenberg made his first essay at Strasburg, about the year 1435, has been a subject of wonderment with certain writers. But the truth is, that prior to that period the world was not ripe for the invention, neither had the time arrived for the development of those grand designs of Providence, in the effecting of which the Press and Printing were destined to be mainly instrumental. Otherwise, it is inconceivable how for ages previous, while the germ of the art, as ultimately perfected, was in common use among men,—in seals and signets;[29] in stamped records on bricks and tablets of clay in Babylon; in chiselled inscriptions on rocks and pillars in India; and in irons with letters cut in relief upon them for branding cattle with their owners’ names, (known among the Romans in the days of Virgil);—no one discovered the way to this method of multiplying documents for general distribution, or for the promulgation of edicts through the length and breadth of the ruling empires of the world.

It may be well, therefore, before entering upon the History of Printing, popularly so called, to take a rapid glance at the state of Europe, both as regards Religion and Literature, in the ages immediately preceding that at which we have now arrived.

From the Sixth to the Fifteenth century the Western world may be said to have been covered with moral darkness. On the fall of the Roman Empire, ignorance, barbarism, and superstition spread in dense and heavy clouds over the nations of the West. Learning so rapidly declined, that it was almost wholly lost; and the light of Religion,—that light “which lighteth every man that cometh into the world,”—appeared well nigh entirely quenched. Here and there, however, in different countries and in successive ages, a ray of light shot forth; Schools and Universities were established, and a few bright names shine out like stars amid the thick darkness which surrounded them. The number of these was somewhat increased towards the Tenth century. About this time Paper made from cotton or linen rags began to come into use. The importance of this invention must at once have been felt, and by decreasing the expense of manuscripts,—hitherto written on parchments, or the perishable papyrus,—have greatly enlarged the demand for such documents. This enlarged demand induced more to follow the occupation of Scribes, or Caligraphers. In the Eleventh century the Benedictine Monks exercised themselves in copying manuscripts; and to their industry we owe almost all we possess of Classic Latin Literature at the present day. The light of learning in this century shone brightest in France and England; in Italy but faintly, while in Germany its glimmerings were scarcely perceptible. In the Twelfth century a slight improvement may be traced; John of Salisbury and William of Malmesbury being distinguished writers in this age. In the Thirteenth however, darkness prevailed again; and few, if any, were capable of appreciating the master-mind of Roger Bacon, who shone like a beacon in the realms of literature and science, but who was looked upon by his mole-eyed contemporaries as a magician whose lore was derived from unholy sources. The Church grew more and more corrupt. Ignorance and fanaticism every where abounded; and true Religion was scarcely to be discerned amid the prevailing superstitions of the age. It was in the moral world as in the physical: the darkest hour is that which precedes the dawn. Darkness at this period covered the earth and gross darkness the people. The mind of man had become, as it were, without form and void; and in that state, humanly speaking, it was long likely to remain. But such was not the will of God. As in the creation of the world, God said, Let there be Light, and Light was; so now the command went forth—“Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.” And the light of truth burst forth; not indeed at first with noontide splendour; but there came from the East a dawn, and a day-spring thence arose, which announced the coming of that light which will only cease to shine when time shall be no more.

The Fourteenth century was to that which followed it like the morning star that ushers in the dawn. The love of learning revived; and polite letters were restored in the person of Petrarch. Universities were established in Rome and Fermo, in Perugia, Treviso and Pisa, in Pavia and Florence, in Sienna, Lucca and Ferrara. In England, Richard Aungerville, Bishop of Durham and Chancellor of Edward III, but better known to fame as Richard of Bury, gave his library to the University of Oxford, with special injunctions that his valuable manuscripts should be lent out to scholars.[30] These, and like agencies elsewhere at work, paved the way for the era then about to commence.

As the dangers which menaced the Eastern Empire at the close of the Fourteenth century increased, the most learned of the Greeks fled to the West, carrying with them the treasures of their language. Amongst the first of these was Emanuel Chrysoloras, who settled in Florence in 1395 as public teacher in Greek. He had been previously known as an Ambassador from Constantinople to the Western powers, his mission being to solicit aid against the Turks. From Florence he proceeded to various Italian Universities, and became the preceptor of several early Hellenists. In 1423, 238 manuscripts of Greek authors were brought into Italy by John Aurispa of Sicily, who thus put his country in possession of authors hardly known to her by name. By means of these, and the labours of Philelfo and other collectors, an ardent thirst for Classical and especially Grecian Literature began to make itself manifest, which about the year 1440 was completely developed.

The kings of France and the Dukes of Burgundy were at this period the most munificent patrons of learning and literature. The fashion they set was followed by their chief nobles, and many celebrated libraries were formed in their dominions. The Library of the Louvre was founded by King John of France in 1350. His third son, Jean, Duc de Berri, formed one at his Chateau de Bicêtre, near Paris, only inferior to that of his father. Philippe le Hardi, the youngest son, who became Duke of Burgundy, was also addicted to the collection of fine books, “and spared no expense in the employment of artists to adorn his library, and in the purchase of their most choice productions.” His son, Jean sans Peur, inherited his father’s tastes and added to the collections already made. “But all previous patronage sinks into comparative insignificance before the encouragement given to everything connected with literature by Philippe le Bon, who succeeded Jean in 1419. At Bruges where he kept his Court, he gave continual employment to multitudes of authors, translators, copyists, and painters, who were constantly enriching his library with their best productions.” In an account of the Duke’s library, nearly two thousand works are enumerated, “the greater part being magnificent vellum folios beautifully illuminated, bound in velvet, satin, or damask, studded with gems, and protected by gold clasps jewelled and chased.” “The passion for books thus displayed was not confined to France or the French princes. In Italy, Germany, England, and other countries, the same taste spread. In England Henry VI had a valuable library; many books written and illuminated for him being still among the royal MSS. in the British Museum. The Duke of Bedford, whose love of literature was probably greatly stimulated while Regent of France, was surpassed by none of his countrymen in his patronage of the Fine Arts; and the celebrated Missal executed for him still remains as one of the choicest productions of his age. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, the Protector of Henry VI, was also greatly attached to his library, and bequeathed many hundreds of volumes to the University of Oxford, and to King’s College, Cambridge.”

“Owing to these causes the various Artists connected with book-writing and book-binding, as well as the trades necessary to them, received great encouragement, while to ensure speed as well as excellence of workmanship, division of labour was carried out to a great extent. Indeed, so important a branch of commerce had the manufacture of books now become, and so numerous were the various classes of craftsmen employed in this way at Bruges, that there sprang up in that city a Guild,—‘The Guild of St. John the Evangelist,’ the patron Saint of Scribes,—which in 1454 had a formal charter and privileges granted it by the Duke.” Other cities also had similar corporations. Thus, at Antwerp the Society of St. Luke was formed in 1450, and at Brussels there was a guild of Writers called ‘Les Frères de la plume.’ The Guild of St. John the Evangelist contained members of both sexes, and consisted of Book-binders, Book-sellers, Boss-carvers, Cloth-shearers, Curriers, Figure-engravers, Illuminators, Letter-engravers, Painters, Painters of Vignettes, Parchment and Vellum-makers, Printers, Print-sellers, School-masters, School-mistresses, and Scriveners and copyers of books.[31]

Coincident with this development of a thirst for classical learning, and a passion for literature amongst the great and wealthy, was the invention of Printing in the Western world.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] This is shewn, in the history of wood-cutting by Mr. J. Jackson, not to have been the original title of the work, which was rather, says the writer, a book for the use of preachers than the laity,—“A series of skeleton sermons, ornamented with woodcuts to warm the preacher’s imagination, and stored with texts to assist his memory.”

[17] The blocks of the original Biblia Pauperum re-appeared in this city on the revival of wood-engraving in Holland; and it is the opinion of Mr. Bradshaw, that it was here the earliest of the block-books was produced. This opinion has additional importance attached to it, from the fact that Zwolle was, in the early part of the Fifteenth century, celebrated as a seat of learning. “Thomas à Kempis, according to Meiners, whom Eichhorn and Heeren have followed presided over a school at Zwoll, wherein Agricola, Hegius, Langius, and Dringeberg, the restorers of learning in Germany, were educated.”—Hallam’s Introduction to the Literature of Europe, 8vo. 1837. vol. i. p. 149.

[18] Some writers consider that the whole of the text of what are considered the first and last editions, and a large portion of the text of the other two, were printed from moveable wooden letters; others again assert, that these letters were made of cast fusile metal. No positive proof, however, has been, or can be given that they were the latter. That the texts were separately printed, is evident, from the different inks employed, the burnished appearance of the paper at the back of the cuts, and the indentations at the back of the lines of type. These last, differing considerably in different specimens, give rise to differences of opinion as to whether the impressions were produced by an ordinary printing press, or by some other method of imparting pressure. The presumption is that all, or nearly all, the impressions of the oldest specimens of the art, printed only on one side of the paper or vellum, were taken in the Chinese way. Before the press was invented, there certainly was a possibility, but that was all, of printing otherwise; but after its invention, impressions could most easily be taken on both sides of the paper, without the risk of spoiling the first, while ‘perfecting’ (i. e. printing) the reverse or blank side of the sheet. As the press was not an essential in block-printing, it was probably not thought of in that embryonic state of the art. But after separable, and especially metallic, letters were made, the press could no longer be dispensed with; types would be all but useless without it; for although impressions might still be taken by careful rubbing, the paper being sufficiently damped, that process would be attended with much additional trouble, owing to the precautions rendered necessary to avoid cutting through the paper, or otherwise spoiling it by blacking the margins on the inked coffin or chase in which the types, when formed into a page, were screwed or quoined or wedged together. The date of the invention of the Letter press, by the adaptation of the screw to the purposes of book-printing, is thus an important element in the consideration of questions relating to the origin of Typography.

[19] About £1000, or £1200, of current English money.

[20] Paper with the same water-mark was also used by the First Printer in England. Vide Plate IX in vol. ii. of The Life and Typography of William Caxton.

[21] Letter in Builder, Nov. 26, 1870.

[22] So called after Andrea Mantegna, a celebrated Italian painter and engraver, born in Padua 1431, died 1505. Cards designed and coloured by this artist are very highly prized.

[23] Builder, Nov. 19, 1870.

[24] “The word which has been translated printed is ‘stampide’ (‘Carte e figure depinte e stampide’), and the question arises as to the meaning of that word in 1441. ‘Stampide,’ according to Florio, signifies ‘to print, to presse, to stampe, to form, to figure;’ and ‘stampe’ in like manner, besides a print or impression, is said to be ‘a marke, a shape, a figure.’ The word existed before printing, in its modern sense, had been heard of, and the natural application of it to the new art, does not in the least determine the question of when that art was invented. ‘Stampide’ in 1441, might simply mean formed, figured, or shaped, by the means of the stencil, a process which we know was adopted at that period, and which being much more rapid than drawing and coloring by hand, would doubtless affect very seriously the art of the card illuminator, similarly as photography, at the present day, has the art of the miniature painter.”—J. R. Planché. Builder, Nov. 19, 1870.

[25] This phrase seems specially to refer to the method of stencilling.

[26] Equivalent to about £5 15s. sterling.

[27] St. Louis of France, after his return from the Crusade, [A. D. 1254], interdicted the use of all playing cards throughout his dominions. They were also forbidden by the Council of Cologne in the year 1281. These prohibitions most probably arose from their being used for purposes of fortune-telling.

[28] Gringonneur was paid for the cards drawn and painted for Charles VI in 1392, fifty-six sous of Paris, which is calculated to be about £7 1s. 8d. of our present money, and a single pack of “tarots,” admirably painted about 1415 by Marziano, Secretary to the Duke of Milan, cost the enormous sum of 1,500 golden crowns (about £625); but in 1454 a pack of cards intended for the Dauphin of France, cost only five sous of Tours, about 11s. or 12s.—The Arts in the Middle Ages, by M. Paul Lacroix.

[29] Several ancient specimens of Greek and Roman signets are still extant. The most remarkable of these is a brass sigillum of C. J. Cæcilius Hermias, in the Duke of Richmond’s collection. It was found near Rome, and is supposed to belong to the Fourth century. The characters are reversed, engraved in relief, the back metal being cut away to a considerable depth and left in a rough state. The inscription is surrounded with a border, as shewn below.

The size of the signet is two inches long by one inch wide. At the back is a ring. If used for printing, its application was no doubt the same as that of the blocks used by the Paper Stainers of the present day. Coloured pigments would be applied to the face of the letters, and the signet would then be stamped on whatever substance was to be marked. It might, in this way, have been used for stamping on the covers of letters or parcels, to mark the name of the party from whom they were sent, in the same way as engraved fac-simile signatures are officially used for franking such documents through the post at the present day. It may, however, have been the receipt stamp of a man in trade; or a trade-mark, used, for instance, to stamp the wares while in a semi-plastic state, of a baker or brick-maker.

After the above was in type, the writer was informed by Dr. J. D. M. Coghill, Superintendent of the Convict Establishment at Wẹlikaḍa,

near Colombo, that the probability of the first of the purposes to which the signet is supposed to have been applied, was much strengthened by the somewhat similar practice, though not for an exactly similar object, which prevails in parts of China, in the use of chops,—“house-signs,”—by professional men, traders, &c. These chops are small blocks of box or other hard wood, on the upper surfaces of which the name and profession of an individual or firm are cut by itinerant engravers, at the rate of thirty for a Mexican dollar. To meet the requirements of business and to facilitate intercourse between Europeans and native Chinese, each foreign house, or firm, or professional man, furnishes all those with whom he or they have transactions, with his ‘chop,’ on the sides of which his name and address are also written in Roman characters. Whatever letter, document, packet or parcel is thenceforth sent to him or them, besides the address written with ordinary ink and in Roman characters, a red ink impression of the chop is stamped on the envelope or cover. This any native can read, and the addressee is without difficulty found. To this information Dr. Coghill kindly added the gift of the accompanying original chop, which belonged to his brother, Dr. Sinclair Coghill, when practising as a physician with his partner, Dr. Bell, in Shanghai. The characters represent the words ‘Peh-i-sang,’ the nearest equivalent the Shanghai dialect of the Chinese language gives to ‘Bell, Physician.’ It is a small block, an inch and a quarter long, three-eighths of an inch broad, and was one inch and three-eighths high. It has, however, been reduced to an inch in height to suit the size of the type and allow of its being herewith printed.

[30] For, says the Bishop in his ‘Philobiblon,’ “Books are masters who instruct us without rods, without hard words and anger, without clothes and money. If you approach them they are not asleep; if investigating you interrogate them, they conceal nothing; if you mistake them they never grumble; if you are ignorant they cannot laugh at you.”

[31] Vide vol. i. of The Life and Typography of William Caxton, from the second chapter of which the two preceding paragraphs have been abridged.

Early Typography.
CHAPTER III.

John Gutenberg.—First attempts at Typography in Strasburg.—Difficulties.—Invention of the Press.—Lawsuit.—Return to Mentz.—Connection with Faust.—Success.—Mazarin Bible the first book printed from moveable metal types.—Second Lawsuit.—Forfeiture of Plant to Faust.—Peter Schœffer.—Invention of Type-founding.—Faust and Schœffer.—The Gutenberg ‘printing house.’—Gutenberg attached to the Court of the Elector of Mentz.—Death.

Until the publication in the Hague of Meerman’s Origines Typographicæ (1765),—a work based upon the traditions inserted in Hadrian Junius’s Batavia, first published in 1588,—the man to whom the whole of Europe, with hardly a dissentient voice, ascribed the honor of the invention of the Art of Typography, was John Gutenberg.[32] a native of Mentz. He was of honorable descent; his family being included among the junckers and nobility, the equestrian order of the country, and possessing a small estate situated in the neighbourhood of Mentz, called Sulgeloch, on which estate he was born, about the year 1399. His father, Frielo, had besides him, an elder son, Conrad, who died some time previous to the year 1424, and Frielo, a younger, who was living in 1459; and two daughters, Bertha and Hebele, both of whom became nuns in the Convent of St. Clair at Mentz. In addition to the above-mentioned estate, the family owned two houses in the city of Mentz, one of which was called ‘Zum Gansfleisch,’ and the other ‘Zum Gutenberg.’ The latter of these formed part of the property of his mother, Elsy of Gutenberg. John Gutenberg, junior,[33] left Mentz in early life for Strasburg, where he settled and obtained rights of citizenship, and established himself in business as a polisher of precious stones, and a mirror and looking-glass manufacturer, in both which arts he is said to have shewn considerable skill. The precise date of his arrival and settlement in Strasburg has not been ascertained, but that it was prior to 1424 is known from a letter written to his sister Bertha, on the 24th March of that year;[34] probably it was about the year 1420, and may have been occasioned by the political disturbances of the time. His name frequently appears in the city documents and registers, and he occasionally visited Mentz. He left Strasburg finally about the year 1444. Of great natural sagacity, gifted with an inventive genius, and of indomitable perseverance, the increasing thirst for knowledge which at this period was every where manifesting itself, arrested his attention, and convinced him of the desirability, as well as the profitableness, of devising some method for its more ready and abundant supply.

The problem of the mechanical multiplication of manuscripts had already been partially solved in the block-books which were manufactured in Holland. In the study of these, Gutenberg perceived the immense advantages which would follow from having every letter made separate, with sufficient quantities of each to allow of their being combined into words, sentences, and pages, instead of continuously engraving whole series of lines in solid blocks as in the specimens before him. That idea once clearly seen, time and patience, with the ability to engrave, were all that were required for its realization, so far at least as concerned the mere making of the types or letters. The first experiments would naturally be, as indeed we are informed they were, on wood. And one can well imagine the flush of triumph that mantled on his brow, when, after having engraved a few continuous sentences, or sets of alphabets, with spaces between each line and letter; and after having sawn each line asunder, and separated each letter from the one adjoining, and trimmed and squared the whole to his mind, Gutenberg recomposed the letters into words, and other words, which differed from the original, and saw his cherished thought worked out complete before him.

But, while thus on the very threshold of success, obstacles and difficulties began to present themselves, which taxed his ingenuity and tried his perseverance to an extent which it was scarcely possible for him to have foreseen. In the first place, whatever plan he may have adopted to produce impressions in his earliest experiments, he could not fail to find out in a very short time that the Chinese method, adopted by the block-book printers, would not answer for his separable types; and moreover, that the fine strokes and edges of his wooden letters were liable to damage and destruction from other causes besides those arising from the amount of pressure it was necessary to subject them to in order to ensure a clear readable impression. It was necessary therefore to resort to metal. This was, in itself, a serious matter to begin with, for engraving on metal is a much more difficult, tedious, and expensive process, than engraving on wood. With separable types, and direct perpendicular pressure to produce impressions, a different kind of ink or pigment to that hitherto used by scribes, or stencillers, or block-book printers, also became necessary, as well as a different method of applying it to the face of the types; and many an experiment must have been made, and much time and money lost, before these difficulties were overcome, and success attained in these as in the preceding step.[35]

The chief difficulty—the greatest obstacle in the way of putting to a practical use the Types as now designed, and thus bringing the Typographic Art before the world,—was the want of the Letter Press. To overcome this obstacle, to conquer this difficulty, was Gutenberg’s great task. There was, in point of fact, no particular ingenuity or inventive faculty required in making separable letters. The keen perception which saw the advantages to be gained from such separation, was, no doubt, a sure indication that Gutenberg was a man of mark,—one whose mental gifts transcended those ordinarily possessed by his fellow-men. But the realization of the idea of separating the letters was a task which mainly depended on the amount of manual and mechanical dexterity brought to bear upon its execution. The higher efforts of genius, and the development of the inventive faculties were displayed in the subsequent steps, and in none more notably than in the invention of the Press.

The question—Who invented the Printing Press?—has never yet, it is believed, been thoroughly considered or satisfactorily answered. A writer in the Encyclopædia Britannica says, “It is probable that one of the difficulties which Gutenberg found insuperable at Strasburg was the construction of a machine of sufficient power to take impressions of the type or blocks then employed. Nor is it at all wonderful that even the many years during which he resided at that city should have been insufficient to produce the requisite means; for what with cutting his type, forming his screws, inventing and compounding his ink, and constructing the means for applying the ink when made, his time in the Alsatian capital must have been fully occupied.” And he goes on to argue that the Press was probably the joint production of Gutenberg, Faust and Schœffer, during the time of their association in Mentz. But for such a belief there is no real ground whatever.

Mr. Hansard, although he devotes 166 pages of his voluminous work[36] to an account of Presses and Printing machines, strangely enough heads his first chapter on the subject “Construction of the Original Printing Press by Blaew of Amsterdam.” But Blaew lived two centuries after the original invention, and was only an improver of certain of its parts. Of the original inventor he says not a word.

Mr. M‘Creery, a contemporary of Hansard, in his poem the “Press,”[37] reprinted in the Typographia, apostrophises Gutenberg and Mentz in the following terms:—

“Sire of our Art, whose genius first design’d

This great memorial of a daring mind,

And taught the lever with unceasing play,

To stop the waste of Time’s destructive sway!

* * * * *

O Mentz! proud city, long thy fame enjoy,

For with the Press thy glory ne’er shall die;

Still may thy guardian battlements withstand

The ruthless shock of War’s destructive hand,

Where Gutenberg with toil incessant wrought

The imitative lines of written thought;

And, as his Art a nobler effort made

The sweeping lever his commands obeyed:”—

But although, poetically, Mr. M‘Creery thus ascribes the invention to the man and place to whom it rightfully belongs, I do not know (not having the original edition to refer to) whether he intended anything more. I suspect not, since otherwise Mr. Hansard would scarcely have failed to have made use of any information in the notes to the poem which tended to throw light on a subject of so much historical importance.

Other writers pass the subject by with the remark, that “Of the mechanical construction of these presses there is little or no record.” One of the latest authorities, Mr. Blades, the able palæotypographist, thus dismisses it:—“The method of obtaining an impression by a direct pressure downwards is generally supposed to have been synchronous with the use of moveable types. Mr. Ottley, however, describes several of the earliest wood blocks, which he had no doubt were printed by means of a press. Of one he states ‘I am in possession of a specimen of wood engraving, printed in black oil colour on both sides the paper by a downright pressure, which I consider to have been, without doubt, printed in or before the year 1445.’ There can be no question therefore that the earliest type printers found a press ready to their hands.”[38] But this is a very unconvincing method of reasoning; and a positive conclusion founded upon a mere opinion given in regard to the supposed age of an old engraving—a subject upon which the ablest experts differ—is one which is open to very considerable question.

It has already been stated, (pp. 42–43) that before the invention of the press, impressions were usually taken on one side only of the paper or vellum; although the possibility of their being taken on both sides is admitted. Mr. Ottley says “the best proof that the printer knew how to print on both sides of his paper, is that he did so;”[39] and he mentions two instances where, on a single leaf, the text of the Speculum is so printed.[40] The inference which these writers intended should be drawn from the above statements is, that the press used by the printer of the Speculum was essentially the same as that subsequently used by the printers at Mentz.

But what is the evidence in the case? All that can be brought forward is the nature of the ink, and the appearance of the printed pages. As regards the ink, it differed from that used at a later period in Germany, and was certainly much more fluid; this is shewn by its spreading over the edges, and filling up the loops of the letters. By itself, however, the ink proves nothing as to how the types were impressed; that is to be learnt from the appearance of the pages; and this shews that impressions were taken by a rolling process. A wooden or metallic roller, 7 inches long, with a diameter of not less than 3 inches, and covered with two or three folds of fine woollen cloth, rolled, with a sufficient amount of pressure, over the back of the paper when it was laid upon the types after they had been inked,—or an uncovered roller, if two or three folds of woollen cloth were laid over the paper,—would do all that was needed, and be quite sufficient to account for the practice of printing on one side of the paper only. The statement how such an impression might be taken, is not however a proof that such was in reality the method adopted. That proof lies in the fact, that the capital letters of the columns of text on the left hand margin, and the end letters of the lines on the right, are all more or less blurred, and choked with ink, in a way which only such a cylindrical method of printing would effect; that effect being caused by the first and last contact of the roller with the outer edges of the types. In cylindrical machine printing at the present day, where care has not been taken to guard the edges and ends of the types by ‘bearings,’ similar blurrings may at any time be seen. In the admittedly rude appliances of the earliest printers such appearances would under such a process be at least as plainly shewn. And in the absolute fac-simile which Mr. Humphreys gives, on plate 10 of his work, of the page of the Speculum printed from separable letters with black oleaginous ink, those appearances are most plainly visible. Of course it was possible to print sheets of paper in this way on both sides; but care would have to be taken to guard the first printed side by interposing between it and the roller a waste or setting-off sheet, before the process was repeated. And, as already hinted, by the use of ‘bearings,’ the blurring might be avoided. The difference however between such a process and that invented and put in practice by Gutenberg, is as great as that which exists between the battering rams and catapults of the ancients, and the siege trains of modern artillerists.

Admitting then that impressions from type could be taken on both sides of a sheet, the mere fact that a single leaf was so printed in two editions of the same ancient work, is no proof whatever that the said impressions were made with a press such as was used by the printers at Mentz, the invention of which became a necessity in order to complete the Typographic Art. What it does prove, is, that the printer of the Speculum, with the appliances then at his command, preferred the easier, simpler, and safer method of printing on one side only.

But in the consideration of this subject there are other questions which ought not to be overlooked;—e. g. For what special purposes, and for whom, were the Donatuses and Block-books printed? Certainly not for the public at large. The Donatuses,—small elementary Latin grammars,—would be for a few of the superior monastic schools of the day; and the Biblia Pauperum, Ars Memorandi, Speculum Salutis, &c., were avowedly for “the assistance of poor preachers,”—“propter pauperes predicatores.” Editions of these works would therefore be small in number, and the time taken in their production would not be an object of much account. Mr. Ottley supposes (p. 283) that they would not exceed 20, 40, or 60 copies each. The market for them, consequently, might very easily be overstocked. Now as regards the most ancient Speculums printed in Holland, it is by no means improbable, that, as two editions in Latin and two in Dutch followed one another in quick succession, the printer did overstock the market, and had to cease work in consequence. It is at any rate certain, that the cuts were laid aside for a length of time, and were not reprinted until 1483, when Veldener, then printing at Culembourg, issued an edition in small 4to., sawing the pictorial headings in two in order to suit his purpose. This branch of the subject is of some importance in its bearings on the question of the origin of block printing in Holland, and will be more fully considered in a subsequent chapter.

Gutenberg we may fairly presume, (relying upon documentary evidences for the presumption), aware of the nature and extent of the demand that existed for such productions, foresaw how a new public want might be created by means of new inventions for further developing the new-born art. Separable types with the then known methods for making use of them, were but as acorns in comparison with stately full grown oaks,—but sickly stunted bushes, instead of luxuriant vines, from whose wide-spreading boughs the thickly clustered bunches of ripe, refreshing, life-giving fruit should be sought for far and near. How to excite and satisfy this want was the problem constantly revolving in his mind. It soon became evident, that a machine capable of rapidly striking off copies of works that were to be set up in types, was a necessity of the case; and to meet that necessity all his energies were bent. The time and money spent in working out his ideas,—in constructing the original Letter-press,—is shewn in the evidence which has been preserved, the bearing of which seems to have been hitherto strangely misapprehended.

“The earliest printing press” says Mr. Charles Knight, “was nothing more than a common screw-press,—such as a cheese press, or a napkin press.” He gives no authority for the assertion, but he immediately adds, thereby largely qualifying it,—“with a contrivance for running the forme of types under the screw after the forme was inked.”[41] In this ‘contrivance,’ with some few others, which were its necessary adjuncts,—however simple the matter may seem now-a-days to eyes accustomed to look upon machinery and mechanical appliances of all kinds and varieties,—lay the chief difficulty. The screw, from its power and adjustability, would naturally suggest itself as the appliance best suited to effect the purpose aimed at. But how to contrive to make the screw an effective agent in producing impressions from types, was the question which Gutenberg had to consider. His separable letters were ready to his hand; but without the press, which he had yet to make, and to find out how to make, they were as useless to him as unstrung harp-strings are unmusical until they are keyed and stretched and tuned, and made to emit soul-thrilling harmonies at the master touch of the fingers of the finished harpist.

Satisfied with the result of his experiments as to types, a new series of experiments had to be entered upon before he could hope to realize his expectations in regard to them. These he carried on in his residence at St. Arbogaste, in the suburbs of Strasburg.

In his business as a stone polisher, we learn, from his own declarations, that several years previous to 1436, he had taught that art to one Andrew Dritzehen. Subsequently, “a long time afterwards,” he engaged in the manufacture of looking-glasses, along with Johan Riffe, the prefect or mayor of Lichtenow. Andrew Dritzehen, learning this, requested Gutenberg to teach him that art as well; and a similar request was at the same time made on behalf of Andrew Heilman, by his brother Anthonie. Upon their entering into an agreement, whereby they bound themselves to pay him certain premiums for so doing, Gutenberg complied with their requests. But one year, after making preparations for attending the fair held at the time of the pilgrimages to the shrines at Aix-la-Chapelle, the journey was suddenly put off until the year following, owing to the postponement of the fair. Deprived of the opportunity of increasing their gains, the two Andrews, with enforced unprofitable leisure upon their hands, made an unexpected visit to St. Arbogaste, where they found Gutenberg busily engaged upon matters, the secret of which he seemed determined to keep to himself. After much importunity, however, he consented to reveal to them, upon certain conditions, “all the wonderful and secret arts that he knew, without any exception.” The conditions were, that they on the one side, and he and Riffe on the other, should cancel the existing agreement, and enter into a new one; that they should conjointly pay to him the sum of 250 florins, making, with 160 previously paid for being taught the art of making looking-glasses, 410 in all; that 100 was to be paid immediately, and the remainder at stated periods; and that their share of the profits was to be one-third, the remaining two-thirds being divided between Gutenberg and Riffe. It was further agreed, that the partnership for carrying on “the wonderful art,” should be for a term of five years; but that if any one of the partners died before the expiration of that period, the survivors should, at its expiration, pay to the representatives of the deceased the sum of one hundred florins, retaining in their own hands “all the utensils and implements of the art, and all works perfected by the instruments.”

This partnership was entered into about the year 1436. Upon the completion of the agreement the implements and materials for the new art were removed from St. Arbogaste to the house of Andrew Dritzehen, with whom, as perhaps the ablest mechanic in the association, Gutenberg thenceforth carried on his experiments. These seem to have nearly approached completion, when Dritzehen was unfortunately seized with an illness which ended fatally. His death took place in 1438, before the expiration of the term allotted for the partnership, and while he was still indebted to Gutenberg in the sum of eighty-five florins. Gutenberg, as soon as he heard of his death, sent his servant Laurence Beildeck, to Nicholas Dritzehen, the brother of the deceased, and requested that no one might be admitted into the workshop, lest the secret should be discovered, or the materials be stolen. But they had already disappeared; and this fraud, as well as the claims of George and Nicholas Dritzehen to succeed to their brother’s share, produced a lawsuit with the surviving partners.

In the prosecution of this lawsuit, out of a large number of witnesses summoned, the depositions of sixteen were taken; and in the following extracts from the evidence of the most material, we may gather what the secret was which Gutenberg was so desirous to preserve.

“John Schultheissen deposed, that Laurence Beildeck came to his house, to see Nicholas Dritzehen, when Andrew Dritzehen was lying dead, and that the said Laurence Beildeck thus spoke to the said Nicholas Dritzehen:—‘Your brother, Andrew Dritzehen, now happy, had four “stücke” lying underneath in a press. Therefore John Gutenberg desires that you will take them therefrom, and thoroughly separate them one from the other, and lay them on the press, so that it may not be seen what it is.’ Then Nicholas Dritzehen went and looked for the ‘stücke,’ but found nothing.”

“Item, Hannsz Schultheisz hatt geseit das Lorentz Beildeck zu einer zit heim inn sin husz kommen sy zü Claus Dritzehen als diser gezuge jn heim gefürt hette, Als Andres Dritzehen sin bruder selige von todes wegen abgangen was, und sprach da Lorentz Beildeck zu Claus Dritzehen, Andres Dritzehen uwer bruder selige hat iiij stücke undenan inn einer pressen ligen, da hatt uch Hanns Gutemberg gebetten das ir die darusz nement und uff die presse legent von einander so kan man nit gesehen was das ist, Also gieng Claus Dritzehen und suchete die stücke do vant er nutzit.”

“Conrad Sahspach deposed, that Andrew Heilman came to him in Kremer street and said, ‘My dear Conrad, as Andrew Dritzehen is departed, and as you made the presses, and know about the matter, do you go thither and take the “stücke” from the presses, and disjoin them from one another, so that no man may know what it is.’ But when this witness wanted to do so, and looked for them on the morrow of St. Stephen’s day, the whole was gone.”

“Item, Cunrad Sahspach hatt geseit das Andres Heilman zu einer zit zu jme komen sy inn Kremer gasse und sprach zu jme lieber Cunrad als Andres Dritzehen abgangen ist da hastu die pressen gemaht und weist umb die sache do gang dohin und nym die stücke usz der pressen und zerlege sü von einander so weis nyemand was es ist, da nu diser gezuge das tun wolte und also suchete das were uff Sanct Steffans tag nehst vergangen do was das ding hinweg.”

“Laurence Beildeck declared, that he was sent by Gutenberg to Nicholas Dritzehen, after the death of Andrew his brother of happy memory, to tell him, that he should shew the presses he had under his care to no man; and this the witness stated, he did. He said moreover, that Gutenberg told him to take good care to go to the press, and to open the two ‘wurbelin,’ so that the ‘stücke’ should be separated from one another, and that he should place the ‘stücke’ upon the press, so that no man seeing might understand them.”

“Lorenz Beildeck het geseit das Johann Gutenberg in zu einer zit geschickt het zu Claus Dritzehen, nach Andres sins bruders seligen dode und det Clausen Dritzehen sagen das er die presse die er hünder jm het nieman oigete zoigete, das ouch diser gezug det, und rette ouch me und sprach er solte sich bekumbern so vil und gon über die presse und die mit den zweyen würbelin uff dun so vielent die stücke voneinander, dieselben stücke solt er dann in die presse oder uff die presse lege so kunde darnach nieman gesehen noch ut gemercken.”

“Herr Anthonie Heilman deposed, that being aware that Gutenberg was about to take Andrew Dritzehen as a third partner into the society for the manufacture of looking-glasses for the Aix-la-Chapelle market, he earnestly begged of him to admit therein his brother Andrew, as he wished to serve him.” After some demur this was agreed to. Witness supplied his brother with money to the extent of 90 pounds, but at last said, “What can you want with so much money, seeing that the sum agreed upon was only 80 florins?—to which Andrew answered, ‘that he must have money for other purposes; and that two or three days before the vigil of the Annunciation, he was to pay 80 florins to Gutenberg, which he, witness, must advance to him.’... Gutenberg afterwards said to witness, that in acknowledgment of what he had received, they (the partners) should be upon the same footing in every thing, and that in future nothing should be concealed from any of them respecting the remaining work.”... “A long time afterwards Gutenberg repeated this.” After which, a document was drawn up by Gutenberg for the other partners to sign, which they did after considerable deliberation, Gutenberg, before their doing so, telling them, “there is as much stuff in the concern as quite equals your money; so that, in fact, the knowledge of the art is given you for nothing.” The terms of the agreement with Gutenberg were, that in this matter they were to consider themselves beholden to him alone, and not to John Riffe; and “that in case any one of them should be removed from the partnership by death, that then it should be well understood—and so it was—that the matter should be so arranged with his heirs, that, for all things done or undone, for money advanced by or belonging to the share of such person, for the value of the stock, the forms, and all other implements and materials not excepted, they (the surviving partners) should, after the expiration of five years, pay to his heirs 100 florins. So that he, Gutenberg, as he observed, gave them a great advantage; for were he himself to die, after he had once admitted them into the partnership, his heirs, notwithstanding the sums previously expended by him, would only have to receive 100 florins for his share, like those of any of the others. All this was done, to the intent that whosoever of them should die, the surviving partners should not be obliged to make known, or to shew to his heirs, any thing concerning the art; which article was approved by every one of them.”

This witness also said, “that he well knows that Gutenberg, not long before Christmas, sent his servant to both the Andrews (Dritzehen and Heilman) to fetch all the ‘formen,’ that they might be taken out, and that he should see it done, as he was dissatisfied, and wished to renew [alter or change] them.”

There is an obscurity in the original of this last passage which makes it difficult to translate; but it is believed that the meaning intended to be conveyed is that given above. Oberlin, who thought the passage referred to metal types, renders it “Gutenberg sent his servant to bring together all the different forms, which were [to be] pulled to pieces before him, because there were some with which he was not satisfied.” Santander, taking the same view as Oberlin, renders the last clause of the sentence “parce qu’il avait des choses a corriger:—because there were things to be corrected.” This I believe to be an accurate translation, although I am satisfied that the ‘formen,’ to be corrected were not pages of type. The old German runs thus:—

“Dirre gezuge hat ouch geseit das er wol wisse das Gutenberg unlange vor Wihnahten sinen kneht sante zu den beden Andresen, alle formen zu holen und würdent zur lossen das er ess sehe, und jn joch ettliche formen ruwete.”

Mydehart Stocher, after deposing to what he knew of the facts of the partnership and the illness and death of Andrew Dritzehen; said that he had heard the deceased say “that God helping them, the work when completed, would find its way with the public, and that then he hoped and trusted, he would be delivered from his difficulties.”

John Niger von Bischovissheim deposed, “that Andrew once came to him and said that he wanted money ... this witness then asked him what he was making? and he answered he was a looking-glass maker.”

Barbara von Zabern deposed, “that conversing once with Andrew Dritzehen, about bed time, she asked him, why he did not at last go to bed, and that he answered, ‘I must first finish what I have in hand.’ When she continued ‘But, God help me! what a sum of money you seem to be spending; why all these things must have cost at least 10 florins.’ And he replied, ‘You are a simpleton, Zabern! you think these things have cost 10 florins. Listen; if you had all they have cost above 300 florins, you would have enough to last you all your life. Why, they have cost over 500 florins! and they would be good for nothing, if they were not to cost still more; and that is the reason why I have sunk both my own and my expected inheritance in the matter.’ ‘But,’ said she, ‘if it should all turn out badly, what would you do then?’ And he answered, ‘That can never be; before a year is over we shall have back again all our capital, and be well off for ever; unless indeed, it should be the will of God to ruin us.’”

Reimbolt von Ehenheim said, “that a little before Christmas he went to Andrew, and asked him how he got on with the thing he was about? Andrew, of happy memory, replied, that it had cost him more than 500 florins, but he hoped that, when it should be finished, he would make a great deal of money, wherewith he would satisfy witness and others, and relieve himself from his cares;” &c.

Fridel von Seckingen said, “that Gutenberg had made a purchase,[42] and that he became surety for the payment; that Gutenberg, Andrew Heilman, and Andrew Dritzehen, had asked him to become their surety for 101 florins to Stolz the son-in-law of Peter; which he did, upon the condition that they three should give an acknowledgment of indemnity for the same; that Gutenberg and Heilman signed and sealed the indemnity, but Dritzehen did not; and that Gutenberg afterwards paid all the money, at the time of the last Lent fair.”

“Also, John Dünne, goldsmith, declared, that about three years previous he had received about 100 florins from Gutenberg, solely for materials relating to printing (or presses.”)

“Item, Hanns Dünne der goltsmyt hat geseit, das er vor dryen joren oder doby Gutemberg by den hundert guldin abe verdienet habe alleine das zu dem trucken gehöret.”

On the part of George and Nicholas Dritzehen it was shewn, that their brother Andrew, when on his death-bed, stated to his confessor that he had expended 200 or 300 florins in connection with the partnership, and that he did not then possess a single obolus.[43]

The suit lasted for nearly twelve months, but was decided against the Dritzehens; the magistrates adjudging the surviving partners to pay to the heirs of Andrew Dritzehen, the sum of 15 florins only, which, with the 85 he was indebted to Gutenberg at the time of his death, made up the hundred they had bound themselves, according to the contract of partnership, to pay to the heirs of any of their number who chanced to die during the term for which it was to last.

Neither in the evidence quoted, nor in any portion of the rest of the depositions, is anything said about ‘types’ or ‘letters.’ Mr. Humphreys, adopting the conjecture first made by M. Paul Lacroix, argues, that the evidence about looking-glasses to be manufactured, and the partners terming themselves looking-glass makers, is to be understood as meaning that they purposely adopted that term as a ruse to conceal the true meaning of their work, which was, in fact, the manufacture or printing of ‘Mirrors of Salvation.’ But this view can hardly be considered tenable, inasmuch as Anthonie Heilman shews, that his brother first entered into the partnership to learn the Art of making looking-glasses; and that it was not until afterwards—“a long time afterwards”—that the new arrangement was entered into about the remaining work,—“The Art,”—the secret, in fact, for which they were to consider themselves beholden to Gutenberg alone, and not to Riffe. And this was the view the magistrates took. In their summing up of the case, they very distinctly state, that after having for several years taught Andrew Dritzehen the art of polishing stones, Gutenberg admitted him and Andrew Heilman as partners in a manufactory of looking-glasses, which articles he and John Riffe had before been accustomed to sell at the fairs at Aix-la-Chapelle; and that it was not until one year, when the fair had been unexpectedly put off until the year following, that Gutenberg agreed to reveal to them all the wonderful and secret arts that he knew, without any exception. The magistrates also referred to the evidence adduced as to various purchases, some or one of which was deposed to be of lead; and from this it may be inferred that the lead was intended for the manufacture of type. But there is nothing to shew that either Riffe or Dritzehen or Heilman was entrusted with the secret of the separable letters. If however, metal types had been the secret to be preserved, the fact of their being so would surely have somehow been more or less distinctly stated. But it was the four ‘stücke’ under the press,—fixed or fastened by two ‘wurbelin,’ which, when opened, and the ‘stücke’ disjoined and separated one from the other, no one would understand the meaning of,—as well as the ‘formen,’—that were the cause of Gutenberg and Heilman’s great anxiety. These four ‘stücke’ were certainly not four pages, or a forme of types, fastened together by two screws, which is the interpretation given, with a note of interrogation attached, by writers of repute, whose minds appear to have been so filled with the importance of the separable types, that they have failed to see how the word ‘stücke’ could apply to anything else in connection with printing. Had pages of type been meant, their being separated,—either by being ‘distributed’ into type-cases, or ‘thrown into pye,’ as it is technically called,—would not have effected the object of the direction given, “that no man might know what it is;” for any one seeing sundry boxes full, or heaps of small pieces of wood or metal, all of the same height and depth, and each with a letter engraved on its upper end, would scarcely fail to conclude that they were in some way connected with printing,—especially if he knew of the existence of block-books, which at that day were by no means uncommon; nor would two screws have sufficed to fix or fasten a forme of four pages of type together.

Meerman thinks the four “stücke” alluded to were parts of a press; and Koning[44] is much of the same opinion, believing that Gutenberg was, at the time to which the evidence refers, occupied in endeavouring to construct a printing press of a more perfect kind than had been before known. Ottley, in his observations upon the evidence, disagrees with these writers. He says (p. 24,) “On the whole there is, I think, good reason to conclude that the press so often mentioned by the witnesses in the processes (for it appears to be the same identical press that is spoken of throughout) was not a screw-press. What was its construction, or what the use to which it was applied, I cannot conjecture.”—(p. 35.) “We are led to suppose by all the depositions ... that there was something about it, which Gutenberg feared might enable some clever person, who should chance to see it, to become possessed of one of his secret arts without the regular initiation; and therefore upon the death of Andrew Dritzehen ... he despatches thither his servant Beildeck, with directions to take all necessary precautions respecting it. Why in a matter of such moment, and upon which he was so anxious, Gutenberg did not go himself, it is difficult to conceive; or why Andrew Heilman, one of the partners, did not go and do what was needful, instead of deputing Conrad Sahspach.... However, Lawrence Beildeck was sent instead; ... may I suppose that upon this occasion he did as Gutenberg directed him? If so, then I should say that Gutenberg’s mode of proceeding was better calculated to awaken curiosity respecting his secret art, than to prevent any dreaded discovery of it; and that although he might be determined that no one, if he could help it, should have become acquainted with it for nothing, there was mixed up with this feeling a secret wish, that his mysterious acquirements should be talked of; in the hopes of getting a fresh addition of monied partners capable of paying good premiums.”—Very impartial this of Mr. Ottley! “But” he goes on (p. 37) “we will suppose this press to have existed; and briefly remark upon what is said of it.... The term ‘wurbelin’ used in Beildeck’s testimony has already been spoken of. The two ‘wurbelin’ were not screws, but must have been some other kind of fastening, or mode of pressure, with which the press was provided. What the construction of the press was, or how these fastenings or modes of pressure were applied, I pretend not to say: but all the depositions, if we except that of And. Heilman, (which speaks as if it were the press itself which was to be taken to pieces,) describe it as having within it some pieces, which in some way were connected with each other, and which Gutenberg desired should be separated or disjoined, (for there is nothing said of dividing the pieces into pieces) in order that people might not be able to guess the use for which they were intended. Two of the witnesses, namely, Schultheiss and his wife, inform us that these pieces were four in number, and that Nic. Dritzehen was desired to take them out of the press and separate them from each other.... This, according to the natural meaning of the words, is all that can be made of these depositions; and it is probable that no one would ever have attempted to make more of them, had not the name of Gutenberg appeared in connection with them; for there can be no doubt that presses of different kinds were known, long before the invention of typography, and applied to many other purposes, either of stamping or of continued pressure; and the word ‘stücke,’ employed in this process to describe the things contained in the press, is as applicable to pieces of one kind whether of shape or material as of another.”

But this is begging the question completely; for the discussion is not, whether presses of different kinds were already known; but whether the Letter press,—the press for taking impressions from types,—was previously known or not; and in discussing this question, the meanings of the words “stücke,” “formen,” and “wurbelin,” are most important points.

What then were the ‘stücke,’ the ‘formen,’ the ‘wurbelin’? What do the words mean? The German dictionary gives us the answer—“Pieces, parts, bits, fragments,” &c:—“forms, figures, shapes, frames, patterns, models,” &c:—“turning joints, tourniquots, twirls, convolutions, pulley rolls, pegs (in musical instruments),” &c.[45] And as the German for types is “lettern,” for pages “seiten,” and for screws “schrauben,” instead of looking to the types for the true interpretation of the terms, we look to the press, and especially to that portion of it which Gutenberg was contriving, in order to utilize the mechanical power of the screw for the purposes of book-printing. As yet this contrivance was incomplete, for no books had been printed,—no impressions taken from either blocks or types. The invention, in fact, had not been perfected:—there were parts which needed to be changed, altered, corrected. Under such circumstances it is easy to understand that Gutenberg would reserve the secret of his separable types, until the completion of the press should enable him to introduce them as the crowning triumph of his ingenuity.

Within the frame-work of the press then, were fixed,—first, the screw; underneath the screw, second, the platten, (the impression block or plate,) to be brought down by the screw upon the types; third, the carriage, on which the types were to be placed; and fourth, the table or slide-rest supporting the carriage, with its rounce, or spindle with crank-handle, drum, and connecting girths to run the carriage in and out before and after impressions were made. These, or their original substitutes, were the ‘pieces, parts, or bits’ that formed the four ‘stücke’ spoken of.

But what were the ‘wurbelin’? They were two stout screw-bolts, working through nuts in a cross-head, and fixing, immoveably, the cross-block in which the centre screw of the press was wormed. They were variously made, but the object was invariably the same; to resist, by a counter pressure, the upward thrust of the screw, when, by the working of the bar or lever, it was brought down upon the platten, and met the resistance of the forme at the moment the impression had to be taken.

Examine now the figure of the press in the accompanying engraving, copied from woodcuts of presses used as printers’ emblems as early as 1498 and 1511; and observe how easily its component pieces could be separated by removing or opening (unscrewing) the two long wurbelin fixed above the working parts, which were probably merely morticed and tenoned together. In the following diagram, outlined from an engraving of the date of 1520, an older fashioned press seems to be shewn, in which the two wurbelin are differently shaped, while their special use is still more plainly to be seen. These unscrewed, the inner portions of the press taken to pieces, and the parts separated or laid aside, no one, unacquainted with the secret, would be able to guess for what object they were designed; or, in the words of the evidence, “know what it is.”

It may perhaps be said, that so apparently simple a matter could surely not have taken so long a time to contrive, nor have cost so much as has been implied, in the way of preliminary experiments. But the printing press, in its origin, was an entirely novel invention. The whole contrivance,—although the idea, as we learn from Arnold de Bergel, (1541), was first suggested to Gutenberg’s mind by the wine-press,[46]—had to be thought out by its inventor, step by step, unhelped by any adventitious aid. Gutenberg, versatile genius as he was, may not have been an expert mechanic; he was certainly unable to avail himself of the many appliances which modern inventors find ready to their hand at every turn, for they were non-existent, and he had therefore to realize his designs the best way he could, without revealing their object to those whom he employed to carry them into execution. His partners indeed might know that a new kind of block or book printing was intended, but yet be ignorant of the real purpose for which the costly and still unfinished machines were meant; for it is evident, judging from the depositions of Anthonie Heilmann, concerning the formen, (‘frames or models’), and of others who speak of presses (pressen) in the plural, that more than one had been planned. Unless such knowledge had been imparted to them, and was further supported by specimens of block Alphabets, school Grammars, and Vocabularies, it is difficult, if not impossible, to understand how their faith in the ultimate success of “the wonderful art,” could have been so long sustained. Now, bearing in mind that three hundred and seventy years later, it cost a practical printer and engineer, aided by other men’s ideas, and by every facility which science could give for the quick and accurate production of whatever his ingenuity designed,—no less than seven years of labour, and an outlay on the part of his employers of £16,000, before he achieved success in the first cylindrical printing machine;[47] a machine which was merely required to print off sheets more rapidly than could be done by the hand-press;—the marvel is, not that Gutenberg’s invention cost him the time and labour and money it did; but that in realizing his ideas, he perfected them so thoroughly, that the principles of his hand-press have not to this day been improved. Different adaptations of leverage power may have been tried to produce the same effects, and different materials made use of in the manufacture of the machinery, but the hand-press of to-day is essentially the same as that with which the first Typographer printed his first book. The greater therefore is the honor due to its inventor.

The annexed sketch represents a press in its completed form, with tympans attached to the end of the carriage, and with the frisket above the tympans. The tympans, inner and outer, are thin iron frames, one fitting into the other, on each of which is stretched a skin of parchment or a breadth of fine cloth. A woollen blanket or two with a few sheets of paper are placed between these, the whole thus forming a thin elastic pad, on which the sheet to be printed is laid. The frisket is a slender frame-work, covered with coarse paper, on which an impression is first taken; the whole of the printed part is then cut out, leaving apertures exactly corresponding with the pages of type on the carriage of the press. The frisket when folded on to the tympans, and both turned down over the forme of types and run in under the platten, preserves the sheet from contact with any thing but the inked surface of the types, when the pull, which brings down the screw and forces the platten to produce the impression, is made by the pressman who works the lever,—to whom is facetiously given the title of “the practitioner at the bar.”

One of the consequences that ensued on the termination of the lawsuit with the Dritzehens, was a stoppage of the progress of the invention. Very probably Gutenberg, an impoverished if not a disappointed man, felt compelled to lay his projects aside, and to devote himself, for a time at least, to other and more remunerative pursuits. Nothing more at any rate is heard of the partnership, or of types or presses, until after his return to Mentz. And as printing was not practised at Strasburg until after Mentelin set up a press there, this silence is pretty conclusive as to the correctness of the surmise, that neither Dritzehen nor Heilmann nor Riffe had been entrusted with the secret of the separable types.

The inference which writers adverse to the claims of Gutenberg draw from the silence in the evidence in regard to types or letters, is, that he had not then invented them. But if the press was not designed, and made, for taking impressions from types, for what else could it have been invented? Gutenberg must have had types in his possession, before he commenced experiments in connection with the press. Now these experiments commenced some time before 1436; how long cannot be ascertained; but it is clear that the original making of the types must necessarily have preceded the first attempt at making a press. But when once a small stock of metal letters had been engraved, (in itself a work of years for a single individual,) and it was found that they could not be availed of by what was then the ordinary method of producing prints, further progress with them would be stopped, until the press, which was to make them profitable, had been made.[48] The mere making of the types, however tedious and time-eating a work, was, as has already been shewn, by no means so wonderfully ingenious as some have stated it to be.

A period of ten years now passed by. Gutenberg, true to his convictions, resumed his typographic labours, and perfected “the mightiest engine of human intellect—the great leveller of power—the Demiurgus of the moral world—The Press.”[49]

The statement made by Wimpheling,[50] in his Epitome Rerum Germanicarum, written in 1502, that in the year 1440 the art of printing was invented by John Gutenberg in Strasburg, though afterwards brought to perfection in Mentz, affords ground for believing that between the year 1439 and the date of his leaving Strasburg, Gutenberg actually printed a work or works in that city. It also gives colour to the conjecture of M. Bernard[51] that a “Donatus, printed in characters very closely resembling those of the Bible afterwards printed by Gutenberg at Mayence, may possibly have been printed by him at Strasburg.” If M. Bernard be right in his conjecture, Mr. Humphreys is of opinion, (p. 74,) “that it would tend to prove that the characters used were of lead, as in the ‘Donatus’ in question the types show such symptoms of spreading and blurring, as would be sufficient to deter a man of Gutenberg’s taste and ambition from undertaking the printing of a more important work.”

Other works may also have been printed, of which no trace remains, as in the case of the Tracts of Peter of Spain, alleged by Junius to be one of the two works first printed at Mentz in the year 1442. Of the other, the Doctrinal of Alexander Gallus, there is a supposed fragment preserved in the public Library at Treves, part of which is figured by Wetter, in Tab. XII. of the fac-similes accompanying his work;[52] but it is plainly the production of the printers of the Speculum Humanæ Salvationis, whoever they were, and of whom more will be said hereafter. The lines are irregular, the letters appearing to be of wood, strung together with a thread, a practice known to have been adopted by the first printers, and to which allusion is made by Theodor Bibliander (1548), Heinrich Spiegel (1549–1612), and other writers.

Angelo Rocca, in the Appendix to the Account of the Vatican Library printed at Rome in 1591, states, from personal knowledge, that “the types used by the inventors of printing were perforated, and connected together by a thread which was passed through them, of which he remembered to have seen specimens at Venice.”[53] These perforations were no doubt the origin of the ‘nicks’ in the shanks of the types, which now enable compositors to place them in their proper positions, without examining their faces. But the threading of the letters by means of such perforations must have proved a great obstacle to progress in printing, and the perforations must also have greatly weakened the letters themselves. This will be at once understood from the annexed figures, shewing the sides of the shanks of two types, one perforated and the other nicked as at present. Obviously it was a great improvement to nick the type instead of perforating it. The object in view, that of keeping the letters in line, would be better secured by laying a thin wire in and along the nicks, than by stringing them together with a thread. Time in composing and correcting would also be saved by the alteration. As soon however as Type-founding was established as a scientific art, and types were made to adjust together with mathematical accuracy, neither threads nor wires were longer wanted; but the nicks still served as a useful aid to the compositor, in the speedier execution of his work; while the type-founder, by multiplying their number and varying their positions, enabled him at once to distinguish the differently-faced founts of the same class of types.

However occupied in the five years after 1439, Gutenberg’s means became exhausted; and having been obliged, in order to extricate himself from his difficulties, to part with a portion of his paternal property to the Church of St. Thomas, he resolved to leave Strasburg and return to Mentz, his native city. This he did about the year 1444, taking up his residence in the ‘Zum Jungen,’ the house of his uncle on the Platz of the Franciscans. Here, still busily engaged in the work to which he had now exclusively devoted himself, he again ran out of funds, and had to borrow 150 florins from Reinhart Brömser and Johan Rodenstein, for which sum his kinsman, Arnulphus Gelthus, became security. His first business transaction with John Fust or Faust, the banker and money-lender, seems to have been in 1448, Faust’s name appearing as a witness to a deed of purchase made by Gutenberg in that year.[54] Two years later a contract was entered into between them, which from that date has made their names inseparable in the annals of the origin of Typography.

In the year 1450, Gutenberg, having already completed three, perhaps four, small founts of type, as well as presses that fully answered his expectations, designed a work, the magnitude of which necessitated a large preliminary outlay. To enable him to execute his design, he had recourse to Faust. Faust, having convinced himself of the worth of his inventions, and the value of the project in contemplation, agreed to “advance to John Gutenberg 800 florins in money, as a fixed sum, with which he was to perform the work in question,” on condition “that the utensils were to be considered as security to the said John Faust, and that he (Gutenberg) was to give six florins per cent. interest for these 800 florins.” With this money Gutenberg was bound “to prepare and make utensils” to be employed for their joint use. Faust also agreed to pay 300 florins annually “for expenses, as well as for the wages of servants, rent, firing, parchment, paper, ink, &c.” It was moreover stipulated, “that if in future they should disagree, Gutenberg was to give back to Faust his 800 florins, and that his utensils were then to be released.”[55]

Supplied with funds, Gutenberg set actively to work. Several assistants were at once engaged, and amongst the rest Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim. Their principal occupation would be in connection with the work for which Faust made the advance of 800 florins; but while that was progressing, several small matters were printed, for which there would be a steady though probably only a limited demand. The Abbot Trithemius states, in his Chronicon Hirsaugiense, that “a vocabulary called the Catholicon,”[56] was the first work printed, “with the characters of the letters carved in wooden tablets in a series, and composed in forms:—imprimis agitur characteribus litterarum in tabulis lignis per ordinem scriptis formisque compositis.” Other writers make mention of an Alphabet, engraved on a single page, and two editions of Donatuses, also cut in solid blocks. These were most likely brought by Gutenberg from Strasburg, and would be his earliest efforts. But besides these, there were Donatuses in cut metal types, and, as some consider, “An Appeal against the Turks,” and “Letters of Indulgence,” printed in the years 1454 and 1455.[57] All these were doubtless the ‘pot-boilers’ of the establishment for the time being.

At length the magnum opus,—the celebrated Biblia Latina Vulgata,—made its appearance. This work is commonly known as the “Mazarin Bible,” from a copy having been discovered in the Bibliotheque Mazarin at Paris, about the middle of the eighteenth century. It was recognised by the book-seller and bibliopole De Bure, who gave a minute description of it in the Bibliographie Instructive, (vol. i. pp. 32–40.) There can hardly exist a doubt that this is the work to which Ulric Zell refers in his account of the origin of Printing, where he says—“And in the year M.CCCC.L. which was a jubilee, they began to print; and the first book printed was the Bible in Latin.”[58] Being without a date, the exact year of its publication cannot be ascertained; but a copy exists in the Royal Library in Paris, printed on paper, and bound in two volumes, on each of which is an entry, stating the date when its binding and illuminating was completed: and as the second entry gives the information that this was finished at Mentz on the Feast of the Assumption, 1456,[59] the work itself could not have been issued from the press later than the year preceding, 1455, which secures to it an unimpeached priority in the records of bibliography.

Strange to say, the existence of this work was unknown until the discovery of the Mazarin copy; since then about twenty copies have been traced in various libraries, some on vellum, and some on paper: twelve of these are now in England, and in every place where they are deposited, they are justly considered the most precious of bibliographical treasures. The type is of a large handsome Gothic character, fine and square and sharp, imitative of the best manuscripts of the time, the first letters of each chapter being painted in by hand. The book consists of 637 leaves, with two columns each containing forty-two lines printed upon each page.[60] It is beautifully executed, and remarkable for the blackness and brilliancy of the ink made use of.

“It is a very striking circumstance,” says Mr. Hallam, “that the high minded inventors of this great art, tried at the very outset so bold a flight as the printing an entire Bible, and executed it with astonishing success. It was Minerva leaping on earth in her divine strength and radiant armour, ready at the moment of her nativity, to subdue and destroy her enemies. The Mazarin Bible is printed, some copies on vellum, some on paper of choice quality, with strong, black and tolerably handsome characters, but with some want of uniformity, which has led, perhaps unreasonably, to a doubt whether they were cast in a matrix.[61] We may see in imagination this venerable and splendid volume, leading up the crowded myriads of its followers, and imploring as it were a blessing on the new art, by dedicating its first fruits to heaven.”

Whatever may have been the precise date of the publication of this Bible, it is evident that some short time before, a disagreement took place between Faust and Gutenberg. The first advance of 800 florins made by the former, not having sufficed for bringing out the work, a second advance had been made to the same extent, and for five years no interest had been paid. Principal and interest, or the forfeiture of the security, were then demanded; and the demand enforced by an action at law. Why Faust waited so long, and then, when the work was all but ready for publication, made his demand, amounting in all to 2020 florins, it may not be difficult to determine as the narrative proceeds.

Gutenberg did not appear in person at the final hearing of the case, but empowered “the respectable Sieur Henry Gunther, late curate of St. Christopher’s at Mentz, Henry Keffer, and Bertolff of Hanau, his servant and domestic,” to hear and see what was done in the matter. He did not deny the fact of the advances, but pleaded against the demand for immediate payment,—“that it was well understood that he was to complete the work with the money which he (Faust) had lent to him upon his pledges, but that he considers he was not obliged to employ these 800 florins in the making of books; and although it be stated in the letter of agreement, that he was to give six per cent. interest; nevertheless Joh. Faust promised that he would not ask him for this interest; and, further, that these 800 florins were not paid to him, according to the tenor of the agreement, all at one time, as he pretends in the first article of his demand; and that with regard to the last 800 florins he is willing to render an account. He (Gutenberg) does not admit that he ought to pay either interest or usury, and he hopes he will not be obliged to do so by the Court; all which has appeared in the demand, the answer, the reply, the rejoinder, and in various other written papers, &c.”

But the magistrates gave judgment against him in the following terms:—“That when Joh. Gutenberg shall have rendered an account of all his receipts, and of the sums expended by him for their joint advantage, whatever further moneys he may have received, over and above, shall be counted in the 800 florins; but that if it shall appear by the account, that Faust has advanced to him any money beyond the 800 florins, which has not been employed for their joint advantage, he (Gutenberg) shall repay it to him; and if Joh. Faust shall prove by oath or other good evidence, that he borrowed the said money at interest, and that he did not advance it out of his own funds, then Joh. Gutenberg shall also pay to him the said interest, according to the tenor of the letter of agreement.”

Whereupon the said Joh. Faust declared upon oath as follows: “I, Joh. Faust, did borrow fifteen hundred and fifty florins which were delivered to Joh. Gutenberg, and have been employed for our joint advantage. I have been obliged annually to pay interest and usury for the same, and I still owe a part; therefore I charge him, for each hundred florins that I have borrowed, as is said above, six florins annually for the money borrowed, which he has received, and which has been employed upon our joint work, as appears in the account; I demand of him the interest, according to the tenor of the judgment; and in proof that such is the fact, I am willing to abide, as is just, by the tenor of the judgment given upon the first count of the demand which I have made against the said Joh. Gutenberg.”

This closed the proceedings, which were duly attested by Ulric Helmasperger, clerk of the Bishopric of Bamberg, by Imperial authority Notary Public, and sworn Notary of the Holy See at Mentz, on the sixth day of November 1455. The persons present as witnesses were Pieter Grantz, Joh. Kilsen, Joh. Knopff, Joh. Iseneckh, Jaques Faust, Burgher of Mentz, and Pieter Gernszheim and Joh. Bonne, Clerks of the city and Bishopric of Mentz.

Gutenberg, not being able to meet the demand, the mortgage on the materials was foreclosed, and Faust thus became possessor of types and presses in his own right. These, with “the stock of partially complete Bibles, were removed from Gutenberg’s residence, and taken to the house of Faust in the Schuster Gasse, (Shoemaker’s street) which was eventually styled ‘The Printing Office,’ as the house of Gutenberg had previously been.”[62]

Before proceeding further it will be well to ascertain what there was in the plant of the printing establishment at the Zum Jungen which could occasion so great an outlay. We have already seen how much time and money had been spent in the experiments at Strasburg. It is not recorded how Gutenberg arranged with his partners there; but it may be fairly assumed, that in 1444 he brought with him to Mentz his original blocks, and types, as well as apparatus for setting up presses. The making of new founts of type would therefore be his chief concern. If the small works attributed to him by Fischer, Van Praet, and others, really issued from his press, (and there is no reason to doubt the fact,) three founts of type were already made, before the one for the Latin Bible was commenced. Now supposing that these three founts consisted of 10,000 letters in all, an equal number would, at least, be required to complete four pages of the Bible; for the printing of such a work could hardly have been begun with less type than would suffice for two formes of two pages each. How then were these letters made? The answer to this question is given in the statement of the Abbot Trithemius, who says, that to the engraved letters on solid blocks “succeeded a more ingenious invention, for they found out a way of stamping the shapes of every letter of the Latin alphabet in what they called matrices, from which they afterwards cast their letters in copper or tin, hard enough to be printed upon, which they first cut with their own hands.”[63] This information was given to the Abbot by Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, one of Faust’s witnesses in the lawsuit with Gutenberg, the same who invented the art of type-founding as at present practised, and who moreover added, “that before the third quaternion (twelve sheets) of the bible was completed, no less a sum than 4000 florins had been expended.”[64] From this statement it is clear that the matrices consisted of a number of small troughs of uniform length, each one the size, in regard to depth and thickness, of the shape of a letter; that these shapes were stamped into a prepared mould of clay or plaster; that the fused metal was poured into these matrices; and that a considerable number of small ingots, or cast ‘blanks’ might thus be made at each pouring of the metal. The accompanying diagram, in which the border represents the rim of the mould, and the inside figures the matrices, renders further explanation unnecessary. On one end of each of these cast ‘blanks,’ a letter would be cut or engraved by hand, while the sides would be ‘dressed’ (with perhaps a greater amount of labour,) in the same way as ordinary type now-a-days. It is not at all unlikely that this method, called by some the fuso-sculpte, may have been suggested by the goldsmith John Dünne, the friend of Gutenberg at Strasburg; or if not, by Faust himself.

With a ready method at hand for preparing his blanks, let us now see how long the engraving of the letters would take. Assuming that one, or say two, small founts had been finished at Strasburg, comprising about 4000 letters, and that 6000 were completed at Mentz before the contract was made with Faust, what length of time would be required to complete them? An expert modern punch-cutter can complete, in one day, two steel types for striking matrices with.[65] Supposing that with softer metal Gutenberg engraved his blanks at the rate of four a day; and that deducting Sundays and Saints’ days, he worked three hundred days a year; five years would be occupied in completing two founts of 3000 letters each; which, when finished, might weigh about one hundred pounds. With the additional funds placed at his command by Faust in 1450, Gutenberg would most probably engage another engraver; and supposing that the two engraved eight letters a day, 10,000 letters would keep them both fully occupied upwards of four years. With the making of presses, type-cases, ink, and all the remaining paraphernalia of a printing office, supposing Gutenberg employed two or three assistant engravers instead of one, and that the bible was begun with type for one page only, while the engravers still went on cutting fresh supplies, his time would be amply taken up; and the amount of money that would thus be sunk would come in the long run to something enormous.

No wonder that Faust at last grew impatient, and was ready to foreclose his mortgage over the plant, as soon as he saw his way clear to something in the shape of a return for his advances.

It is however not a little singular, that Ottley, who published all the documents in the case, and avowed his desire to treat the subject with the impartiality of an umpire,[66] should have allowed his Costerian proclivities to develope themselves in the following terms:—“On the whole I confess that after perusing and re-perusing the above document (the law process) with all the attention I am master of, the impression it leaves upon my mind, and indeed the only idea I can form of the transaction it refers to, that seems at all probable, is, that Fust, after four or five years’ patient trial, found that Gutenberg was incompetent to perform the task he had undertaken, whatever it was, or that from indolence he had neglected it; that his money was going very fast, and there was little to shew for it; and that he had discovered, as is hinted in the sentence,”[67] [how or where?] “that no small portion of it had been applied by Gutenberg to his own private purposes;” especially when he wrote immediately after,—“it is by no means improbable ... that, some years before the date of the above agreement, Fust had assisted with his wits and hands, as well as with his money, in perfecting the art and bringing it into operation.” Improbable it may not have been, but there is nothing whatever to shew that, in fact, such was the case; on the contrary, such facts as do appear lead to an opposite conclusion.

We have now arrived at a point in the narrative where Peter Schœffer comes to the fore-front in the history of the art. Born in Gernszheim, after completing his education at the University of Paris,[68] and adopting, it would seem, the profession of a scribe,—a craft in which the more expert members combined with the art of writing that of illuminating the manuscript works they copied,—he betook himself to Mentz, where he was engaged by Gutenberg to assist in the printing operations at the Zum Junghen. As the first printed books were imitations of, and avowedly sold as, manuscripts, three reasons for this engagement may be seen,—the preparation of the MS. copy; the designing of the characters for the types; and the illuminating of the books when printed.

“The afore-mentioned Peter Schœffer,” says the Abbot Trithemius, “being a person of great ingenuity, discovered an easier method of casting letters, and perfected the art as we now have it.”[69] This “easier method” was that of casting metal types complete, instead of cutting the letters on the ends of cast blanks; and in its success, he perfected an invention which formed the climax to the Art of Typography—an invention which has immortalized his name as the last, though not the least, of the associated Three to whom alone belong the title of the Fathers of the Typographic Art.

The eloquent author of an article upon Printing in the Encyclopædia Britannica, writes as follows regarding this invention:—“It is very likely that the combination of character and qualifications of the three men, John Gutenberg, John Faust, and Peter Schœffer, may afford a good clue not only to the wonderful taste and beauty which distinguished the works issued from their press, but also to the general improvement of the art during their connection with it. The ingenuity of Gutenberg (the inventor of the new mode of printing) would readily suggest a novel and expeditious method of manufacturing types; the practical skill of Faust as a worker in metals (for the working of gold and silver had at that time attained a most extraordinary nicety and cunning), as well as his large pecuniary resources, would promptly provide the necessary appliances; while the taste of Schœffer, would give all possible grace and missal-like excellence to the new forms. For Schœffer, it should be borne in mind, was a scribe,—one of that ancient and honorable craft whose occupation was destined to fall before the new art,—a transcriber and perhaps an illuminator of the manuscript works in use before books; and those who have had the happiness of viewing the exquisite specimens of skill which beguiled our ancestors into study and devotion, will readily conceive that Schœffer’s eye was already schooled for the conception, and his hand for the execution, of all the beauty which the trammels of a new art and limited skill would allow. Aided by his own taste, Schœffer, it is said, proceeded to a new enterprise—viz. the casting of type. The entire conception and execution of this invention has generally been attributed and allowed to Schœffer. It seems most probable, however, that where three ingenious men are bound together by art and interest, none of them can lay exclusive claim to any invention or undertaking, executed in the workshops for the benefit of all. Allowing therefore to Schœffer the honor of having suggested some such plan (as the design of the types to be used) the other two may fairly put in a claim for their portion of the approbation attached to the invention, on the score of their practical suggestions in carrying it out; especially since Faust, as a worker in metals, would have been the party whose function it was to engage the workmen necessary to carry out the particular design.”

Mr. Mayhew, in his elaborate work upon the Trades and Manufactories of Great Britain says,—“The only evidence as to the origin of fusile types appears to shew that Gutenberg, Faust, and Schœffer, had for some time practised a method of taking casts of types in moulds of plaster.... We are told, though we know not what is the proof of the assertion, that it was Schœffer, who after the failure of casting types in plaster moulds, suggested the process which still continues in operation. Schœffer is said, therefore, to have an undoubted claim to be considered as one of the three inventors of printing; for it is asserted (but upon what evidence we have yet to discover) that he first suggested the cutting of punches, whereby not only could the most beautiful form of letter which the taste and skill of the artist could suggest, be truthfully transferred to the matrix, but a degree of sharpness and finish be given to the face which was quite unattainable in type cut in wood; whilst to the shank of the type the mould would serve to give the nicety of angle requisite to enable any number of such separate letters to be locked up into one solid mass. Add to this, that the punch, being once approved of, could be kept ready to stamp a new matrix with precisely the same form, and with the very same nicety as the first, whenever another might be wanted, and we have a full sense of the benefits which the first inventors of the means of casting fusile types from matrices stamped with punches, conferred upon humanity.”

The writer in the Encyclopædia Britannica seems to have been unaware of all the known facts of the case, and to have allowed his imagination full play when writing upon what he considered its possibilities. Mr. Mayhew,—misunderstanding the statement of Trithemius about the shapes of the letters being stamped into moulds so as to form matrices, in which similar shapes were then cast in metal, to be afterwards engraved or cut into letters,—is inclined to be sceptical in regard to Schœffer’s claims, although he does not venture to deny them. Neither of these writers, nor any other with whose works I am acquainted, has succeeded in tracing, in a satisfactory manner, the steps by which Schœffer attained to the realization of his idea. It is no doubt difficult to do so in the absence of positive statements by Schœffer or his contemporaries; but the following considerations, fairly and reasonably deducible from well established facts, may help to a better understanding of the subject than has hitherto been arrived at.

That attempts would be repeatedly made to take complete casts of type, and that such attempts led the way to the goal ultimately reached, is extremely probable. The labour of continually cutting separate letters as they were required, must have seemed to Schœffer, a most irksome and unprofitable toil. Faust was undoubtedly of the same opinion. It would appear from various authorities that Schœffer looked upon him as his master. Faust certainly was the paymaster to the establishment at the Zum Junghen, and very probably placed Schœffer there, not merely as an acquisition on account of his abilities, but as a man whom he could trust to look after his interests.

Well aware of the position in which Gutenberg and Faust stood toward each other, in respect to the advances made for completing the costly work they had in hand; and knowing what heavy expenses were incurred, and how much delay[70] was occasioned by their method of proceeding, Schœffer’s mind would be constantly brooding over the possibility of obviating, by some simple process, the difficulties which perpetually beset them. Every thing he saw which seemed likely to lead to the attainment of the desired end would be eagerly scrutinised and applied to what might at this time be considered the set purpose of his life. Wealth and fame awaited success; and a desire to rival Gutenberg as an inventor, and the hope of contracting a family alliance with Faust, the influential money-lender, may have acted as spurs to quicken his ambition and animate the resolution that determined his course.

It is to be remembered that Faust was a member of a family of goldsmiths, and that in their business, punches, dies, and moulds, would be in frequent use. And although the goldsmith’s art, as all other arts then were, would be conducted as a mystery, to which none but the regularly initiated had access, Schœffer, in the opportunities for intimacy with Faust which his position afforded him, could hardly fail, sooner or later, to observe such appliances. These once observed,—and opportunities for observation, in his capacity of illuminator (an art in which gold and silver were sometimes largely used) would not be wanting, especially when eagerly watched and waited for,—he would not rest until he had ascertained the uses to which they were put; and that information gained, the practical application would quickly follow. The punches he needed were ready to his hand. Each letter then in use, made of hard cut metal,[71] was, in fact, a punch. To strike a matrix in a softer metal, or in clay or plaster, which could be subsequently hardened, and to adapt a mould to cast a type with a shank or body of uniform height and accurately squared, were the two steps that were required. The mould would be his chief difficulty. This he had to devise so that it could be adjusted to the varying widths of the different letters and characters required for a complete fount[72] of types; and this could scarcely be effected otherwise than by making it in corresponding halves, with a provision for leaving in their centre, when closed together, a small quadrangular channel or chamber, made of hard metal, the width of which could be regulated by a slide and screw. The stamped part of the matrix placed at the end of this channel, would form the bottom of the mould; and when this was fixed, it would be ready for the pouring in of the fused metal, which setting almost instantly, a quick and slight opening of the halves of the mould, enabled the operator to shake out the cast type. The type-founder could thus rapidly repeat the process until he had cast as many letters as he required. A little careful trimming and dressing was all that was further needed on his part before he handed them over to the printer ready for use. No doubt it required much thought, and many experiments, before the mould was finished to the satisfaction of its inventor. But as soon as it was completed, the Type-founder’s art commenced.

From the foregoing considerations it becomes apparent that as Faust found money to enable Gutenberg fully to realise his ideas as to Letter-press printing, so in all likelihood did the business which was the source of Faust’s wealth, furnish to Schœffer the clue which enabled him to complete the invention, without which Typography could never have achieved the results that were effected by it with such marvellous rapidity within the lifetime of those by whom it was invented.

That Schœffer really originated the Type-founder’s art is further proved by the account given of him by John Frederick Faust of Aschaffenberg,[73] who after attributing the origin of printing to his relative, Faust of Mentz, and describing the difficulties experienced with the ink in the earlier attempts; as well as the trouble and delay occasioned by the want of a suitable press to obtain impressions from the separable letters, proceeds as follows:—“He [Faust] had however, some people who actively assisted him in printing, composing, making ink, and so forth. Amongst these was a certain Peter Schœffer of Gernszheim, who entering into his master’s views, and being himself ardently desirous to improve the art, found out, by the good providence of God, the method of cutting (incidendi) the characters in a matrix, that the letters might easily be singly cast instead of being cut. He privately cut matrices for the whole alphabet; and when he showed his master the letters cast from those matrices, Faust was so pleased with the contrivance, that he promised Peter to give him his only daughter [grand-daughter] Christina in marriage, a promise which was in due time fulfilled. But there were as many difficulties at first with these letters, as there had been before with those of wood; the metal being too soft to support the force of the impression; but this defect was soon remedied, by mixing the metal with a substance which sufficiently hardened it.”[74]

This sets the matter at rest, and shews that neither to Gutenberg nor to Faust was Schœffer indebted for suggestions which in their estimation were likely to lead to so important an invention—the fourth grand step in the newly-discovered Art,—the method of rapidly casting fac-simile types in fusile metal.[75]

Giving then to Schœffer all the honor to which he is entitled, it may still be asked, Why did he reveal the secret to Faust alone, and not to Gutenberg as well?—and the answer to this question may possibly throw some light upon the motives which actuated Faust in prosecuting the lawsuit against Gutenberg. Schœffer was at the time in a subordinate position in the printing office, and hardly likely to be able to command, from his own resources, sufficient funds to establish himself as a printer on his own account. He would consequently look rather to Faust than to Gutenberg for his reward. In the next place, if, as it is but reasonable to suppose, he had made use of Gutenberg’s letters as his punches, (for it is by no means clear that he cut punches for himself, and he was not, like either Gutenberg or Faust, a worker in metals), he might well expect that Gutenberg would object to the terms he was resolved upon demanding; and moreover, resent the use of his letters for the purpose to which, without his permission, they had been applied. Such an unauthorised use of his original invention either was, or might be deemed to be, injurious to Gutenberg; and it is not exactly in accordance with the average standard of human nature for one man who has injured another,[76]—especially in stealing a march upon him in the matter of an important invention,—to reveal to the party injured what he has been doing detrimental to his interests. Schœffer at any rate was determined that Gutenberg should be kept in ignorance of his secret. The proceedings of the lawsuit shew, that at the time it was pending, Schœffer was not in any way concerned in the profits or losses attending the business;—in fact, his name does not appear in connection with it, except as a witness on behalf of Faust. What more likely then, than that knowing the heavy advances made by Faust, for which no returns had as yet been received,—knowing, too, how changed the aspect of affairs would be by the application of his invention,—he insisted upon Faust ousting Gutenberg, as one of the stipulations for the revelation of his secret. Whether it was so or not, it is certain, that after Gutenberg was got rid of, Faust took Schœffer into partnership, placed him in charge of the printing establishment, betrothed him to his grand-daughter, and conjointly with him, imposed an oath of secresy upon all to whom a knowledge of the new invention was entrusted.

This view of the case completely meets an objection which has been raised by Mr. Ottley. “If,” says he, “Faust had been brought up as a goldsmith, he may reasonably be supposed to have possessed acquirements applicable to the art [printing] which now engaged his attention, and among others, the arts of carving, chiselling, and casting. If we suppose Faust not to have busied himself at all with the various details and processes of the new art, during the above five years’ partnership, but that he left the entire direction and management to Gutenberg (as these writers would have us to believe), he must, one would think, have been but ill able to do without him, when in 1455, he brought the above action for the recovery of the monies he had advanced; and this objection to their system, appears to me to be worthy of consideration, nay to be almost decisive.”

The objection thus raised so far from being decisive, is not only not so, but it has no solid foundation in fact. Nothing in the law-process shews that Faust had anything whatever to do with the management and working of the printing establishment. It was entirely in Gutenberg’s hands; Faust merely contracting with him to find the money to carry it on, (pay wages, &c.), for which he was to receive usury at the rate of 6 per cent, and, in addition, a share of the profits, whatever they might ultimately be. As a partner, he would have had to bear his share of the losses, as well as to be a participator in the gains of the undertaking; but against the contingency of loss he took good care to guard himself. It is evident therefore, that to have foreclosed his mortgage over the materials before he was in a position to entrust them to some one who could work them to his advantage, would have been an act of folly which he was far too shrewd a man of business to commit. But as soon as Schœffer revealed his invention, and stipulated his terms, all objections to a foreclosure were removed. The money was demanded; the action brought; and we have seen with what results.

But whatever were the motives which actuated either Faust or Schœffer in their treatment of Gutenberg, the immediate effect of Schœffer’s invention would be, to cheapen and facilitate the production of types, as much as, if not more than, the effect of the original invention by Gutenberg in cheapening and facilitating the multiplication of copies of works previously only attainable in manuscript. Printing was thus rendered at once, what it was scarcely possible to have been before, a profitable, if not a highly remunerative pursuit. But with the success which resulted from Schœffer’s invention, came the downfall of the venerable Guild of Writers; and the ancient copyists laid down their pens in despair, intuitively feeling that thenceforth the occupation of the scribe was gone.

Disastrous as was the lawsuit with Faust, it was not so utterly ruinous in its results to Gutenberg as most writers have supposed. In the first place, Faust had, at the outset, security for his advances. Gutenberg had exhausted his own means in perfecting the art before he sought assistance, and Faust was not the man to lend him money without having money’s worth to guard against loss; secondly, the advances were for a specific object,—for the joint advantage of both,—but that object was likewise pledged to Faust as a collateral security; and had been partially, if not wholly accomplished, before Faust made his demand.

In the lawsuit, it was to Faust’s claim for interest that Gutenberg principally demurred, his plea being, that although the letter of the agreement between them might justify the claim, Faust had verbally promised not to press it. The magistrates however decided according to the terms of the agreement, and their judgment was not inequitable. They ordered an account to be rendered of all moneys spent and received in connection with the work which was undertaken for the joint advantage of the litigants; Gutenberg to be credited with what was fairly his due, and Faust to be repaid the principal and interest to which he was entitled.

Now it by no means follows that the whole of the types, presses, and plant of the printing establishment at the Zum Junghen was absorbed in the discharge of Faust’s claim. Doubtless it was no small share that went for that purpose, including as it did all that was printed of the folio Bible of 637 leaves,—sufficient of itself, supposing the edition did not exceed two hundred copies, to meet a large proportion of the debt. The rupture, although it broke up the establishment, left Gutenberg with men and materials still at command. Faust, as we have seen, removed the stock that had been made over to him to his premises in the Schuster Gasse; and Gutenberg went with the remainder to his dwelling at the Zum Gutenberg, where he opened a ‘printing house’ on his own account.[77]

Gutenberg’s position in Mentz was certainly one of influence, if not of wealth. It is highly probable that at this time Dr. Conrad Homery,[78] the syndic of the city, advanced him funds for the replenishment of his stock of materials, since they were claimed by, and made over to him, on Gutenberg’s death. With or without such aid he was speedily at work again, and palæotypographists have recognised the products of his press in the “Tractatus de celebratione Missarum;” the “Hermani de Saldis Speculum Sacerdoti;” a treatise in the German language on Councils; the “Dyalogus inter Hugonem Cathonem et Oliverium super Libertate Ecclesiastica,” and a Kalendar or Almanack for the year 1460, consisting of a few leaves in 4to. printed in characters resembling those used in the first of the above-named works. A sheet Almanack for 1457, the first printed with a date, has also been attributed to him. Independently of the special value of this document as a relic of early printing, it proves that in the neighbourhood of Mentz the year then commenced with the month of January, according to the Roman system, and not at Easter as was the case in France and other countries, or at Christmas as in some other places.

Strange to say Gutenberg attached his name to none of his works. It has been suggested that this was owing to his patrician pride. Whether so or not he was well known to his contemporaries both as a printer, and the inventor of Printing.

The Typographer Philip de Lignamines, in his “History of the Pontiffs” printed at Rome in 1474, writing of the events of the year 1458—three years after the lawsuit, says—“Jean Gutenberg of Strasburg, and another, named Fust, skilful in the art of printing with characters of metal, on parchment, each print three hundred sheets per day at Mentz.” And in a document preserved in the Library of the Arsenal at Paris, it is stated, that on “the 3rd October, 1458, the King (Charles V), having learnt that Messire Gutenberg, chevalier, residing at Mentz, in Germany, a man dexterous in the engraving of letters and punches, had brought to light the invention of printing by means of such characters; and being curious concerning such valuable knowledge, the King ordered the masters of his Mint to name to him persons well skilled in such kind of engraving, that he might despatch them to the aforesaid place, in order secretly to inform themselves of the said invention, and to understand, conceive, and learn the art, &c.” Whereupon, it was directed that Nicholas Jenson, an expert engraver, should be forthwith despatched to Mentz, to learn the art in question, for the purpose of introducing it to Paris.

It is believed by some writers, that Gutenberg continued to the end of his career as a Typographer to print with cut metal types. Oaths of secresy were imposed by Faust and Schœffer upon all whom they employed, by which means they hoped to secure the knowledge of the art of type-founding to themselves. But in the year 1462, when Mentz was sacked by the troops of the Elector-Archbishop, Count Adolphus of Nassau, their workmen were dispersed, and the arts of printing and type-founding were generally made known all over Europe. Gutenberg however must have seen at once, upon an examination of the works that were issued from Faust and Schœffer’s establishment, that they were producing types in some extraordinarily rapid manner; and acute as he was, it is not likely that he would remain long in ignorance of the method adopted. There were no doubt intimacies among the workmen of the rival establishments, who had at first worked all together; and among whom the secret would sooner or later ooze out. The science of Johann Nummeister, (whose name occurs in a document associated with that of Gutenberg), may also have been especially called in to assist in a competing method of type-founding. Certain it is, that two or three years before 1462, Albrecht Pfister, and the brothers Henry and Nicholas Bechtermuntze, with Wyngardum Spyes de Otherberg, printed works with types so evidently the same as those cut by Gutenberg, that they have not unfrequently been attributed to his press. Various suppositions have been made, to account for this, but no one appears to have thought of that which seems to be the most obvious; namely, that sets of matrices or types were sold by Gutenberg to these early printers, who with Keffer and Sensenschmidt and others, were taught the art at his establishment. Where suppositions must be resorted to in order to account for facts, those which are the most natural ought surely to be chosen in preference to others which are less or least so.

About the year 1800, some interesting documents relating to Gutenberg and his family were said to have been discovered by M. Bodman the archivist of Mentz. The following,—the seals to which were copied by Fischer in his “Essai sur le Monumens Typographiques de Jean Gutenberg,” is entitled:—

“Agreement between Gutenberg and his brothers, &c., and the Nuns of the Convent of St. Clair, at Mentz, A.D. 1459.

“We, Henne (John) Genszfleisch of Sulgeloch, called Gudinberg, and Friele Genszfleisch, brothers, affirm and publicly declare by these presents, and make known to all, that with the counsel and consent of our dear cousins Johann and Friele and Pedirmann Genszfleisch, brothers in Mentz, we have renounced and do renounce by these presents, for us and our heirs, singly, together and at once, without fraud or reserve, all the property that has passed by our sister Hebele to the Convent of St. Clair at Mentz, in which she has become a nun; whether the said property has been received by her on the part of our father Henne Genszfleisch, or been given by himself, or in whatsoever other manner, whether in grain, money, furniture, jewelry, or of whatever kind it may be, which the respectable nuns, the Abbess and sisters of the said convent have received, whether as a body or individually, or which other persons of the convent may have received from the said Hebele, be it great or small; and we have promised and do promise by these presents, in good faith for us and our heirs, that neither we nor any person on our part, nor our above named cousins nor their heirs, nor any person on their part, shall demand back or reclaim from the said convent, or from the Abbess, or from the convent as a body, or from any persons who reside there individually, the said property, be it what it may, either in whole or in part, and that we will never demand it back, whether by the ecclesiastical or civil judge, or without the assistance of the judge, and that neither we nor our heirs, will ever molest the said convent by word or deed, either secretly or publicly, in any matter whatever. And, with respect to the books which I, the above named Henne, have given to the library of the convent, they are to remain there always, and in perpetuity, and I the above-named Henne, purpose to give also, and without fraud, to the said convent for its library, for the use of the nuns present and future, for their religious services, whether in reading or singing, or in whatever manner they may please to make use of them, according to the rules of their order, the books which I, the above-named Henne, have already printed up to the present hour, or that I may print in future, so far as they shall be pleased to make use of them; and in consideration of this, the above-mentioned Abbess and the nuns of the said convent of St. Clair, have for themselves and their successors, declared and promised, that they will absolve me and my heirs from the claim which my sister Hebele had to 60 florins, which I and my brother Friele had promised to pay and deliver to the said Hebele as her dower, and as the share, coming from the estate of Henne our father, which he assigned to her as her portion, in virtue of a certain instrument drawn up for that purpose, without fraud or deceit. And in order that this (agreement) may be held firmly and fully binding by us and by our heirs, we have given to the said nuns, and to their convent and order, the present letters sealed with our seals. Signed and delivered, the year of the birth of J. C. 1459, on the day of St. Margaret.” (July 20).

To this document four seals were attached inscribed—

• S: hans genszfleisch vo Sorgeloch
• S: friele genszfleisch vo......loch
• S: hen............sch vo Sulgeloch frile genszfleisch.

Contradicting, as this agreement does, the views held by Mr. Ottley, he says, “I confess I have great doubts of its genuineness, though perhaps they are ill-founded.” M. Ph. Berjeau,[79] in his introduction to Mr. Ottley’s work asserts that it is a forgery; and on the authority of M. de Laborde says, “that Bodman, the Archivist of Mentz, bothered by Oberlin, Fischer, and all the bibliographers of his time, who wanted him to discover some new information about Gutenberg, thought it worth his while to forge two documents, which just helped them to fill the two gaps which occur in his history, one from 1420 to 1430, the other from 1455 to 1460.” The other document referred to by M. de Laborde is that already given in the note on pages 71 and 72.

But it has already been shewn from contemporary authorities in Italy and France, that Gutenberg was known in those countries to be still printing at Mentz in 1458. The motive imputed to M. Bodman as an inducement to the criminal act charged against him by MM. Laborde and Berjeau, cannot therefore be correct. Writers on both sides, in their eagerness to confute their opponents, are much too apt to cry out “forgery!” when documents are quoted which are fatal to their pre-conceived views. There is however one point in this agreement which needs explanation.

A certain Henne (John) Gensefleisch is referred to as the father of the brothers John and Friele. But it is well known that their father’s name was Frielo, and not Henne. How then is this discrepancy to be accounted for? Even supposing that M. Bodman was tempted to forge a document like the one in question, he would surely not have so worded it that it should bear upon its face the proof of its falsity. The property to which Hebele the nun was entitled, and the reclamation of which the two brothers and the three cousins renounced, must have been a portion of the ancestral patrimony, to a share of which each member of the family had a well defined claim. Now their common ancestor was a certain Henne Gensefleisch, whose son Frielo was Rathsherr or councillor of Mentz in the year 1332, and played a very prominent part when the great rising of the guilds against the patricians took place in that year. The preservation of the patrimony of a family being an object in which all its members were interested, no portion could be alienated without the consent of all concerned. This frequently led to the female members of a family being placed in convents, for which provision might be made in the original entailment of the property. It also limited marriages among the males; since forfeiture of his share of the patrimony was one of the penalties inflicted upon any who married without the family consent. There does not therefore appear to be any solid reason for rejecting the document as spurious. Moreover, in a copy of the “Tractatus de celebratione Missarum,” originally in the library of the Chartreux of Mentz, and afterwards in the city library, M. Fischer the curator discovered the following memorandum in Latin:—“The Chartreux of Mentz possesses this book through the liberality of Johann called Gutenberg, the production of his art, and the science of Johann Nummeister, completed (confecta) on the 19th of the kalendar of July in the year 1463.” So that it is plain that Gutenberg was printing in that year; and this memorandum further proves, that he made presents of his works to the ecclesiastical establishments of the city; a fact which confirms, in that respect at least, the authenticity of the previously cited agreement.

In 1465, the Elector Adolph appointed Gutenberg a gentleman of his Court; and by a public decree, dated the 18th January, bestowed upon him an annual grant of twenty “malters” of corn, two barrels of wine for his household; and an official court suit; the honor was thus by no means an empty one. He did not however long enjoy it. After an active and eventful life, he died in the year 1468.[80] The exact date of his decease is not recorded, nor are there any particulars known of the circumstances attending his death. But that he was in possession of a printing office up to the very last, is proved beyond doubt by the following acknowledgment of the receipt of the materials by the Syndic Homery.

“I, Conrad Homery, doctor, make known by this letter that his Highness my gracious and well-beloved Prince Adolph, Archbishop of Mayence, has graciously caused to be delivered to me the ‘forms,’ characters, tools, and other objects relating to printing, which Johann Gutenberg left at his death, and which belonged to me, and belong to me still; but for the honor and for the pleasure of his Highness, I have bound myself, and am so bound by this letter, never to use them in any other place than in Mayence; and moreover, only to sell them, in preference, to a citizen of this place, who shall offer an equal price with any other. In faith of which declaration, I have appended my seal to this present. Given in the year 1468, the Friday after the festival of St. Matthew (26th February.)”

Thus ended the life of John Gutenberg; the first maker of separable metal Types; the inventor of the Letter Press; the Founder of the Typographic Art.

His remains were interred at the church in the convent of the Franciscans near the house Zum Junghen, where, not long after, one of his kinsmen erected a tablet, the inscription on which ran as follows:—