Chapter X: Part 10

The eight faces of types show their relation to each other, not only by common features, but by the occasional appearance of two faces in one book. That they were never used by any printer of Germany, nor by any known printer of the Netherlands, is acknowledged even by those who dispute their age. That they were founded and used in the Netherlands, and probably in Holland, may rightfully be inferred from the language of two editions of the same book, from the Dutch fashion of the letters in all the books, and from the fact that all existing copies or fragments of works in these types have been discovered in the Netherlands. That they were the work of one printer, or of the successors of that printer, is highly probable. But this admission involves difficulties. These eight faces of types were founded on as many different bodies: four of these faces are on bodies nearly the size of English; two of them are on bodies about the size of Great-primer. The modern printer is at a loss to imagine why his unknown predecessor should have cut so many punches and made so many fonts of types with faces closely resembling each other, yet so unlike that they could not be used together. His perplexity is increased when he discovers, after careful measurement, that each face on English body and each face on Great-primer body was cast in a new or different mould. It would seem that the unknown printer of the _Speculum_ not only incurred the needless expense of cutting new punches and making new moulds for every new font of types, but that he intentionally introduced in his printing office bodies so nearly alike that they could not, in the shape of single types, be distinguished apart.

The questions at once arise, Why were so many faces and bodies of types that could be readily mistaken for each other, and were so liable to be mixed together, allowed in one office? Why were so many punches cut for such trivial differences of face, and so many moulds made for such slight differences of body? These questions can be answered only by conjectures fairly derived from the remarkable workmanship of the books. [p293] The harsh indentation of the types in the paper shows very clearly that the types were roughly used, and that they wore out rapidly. We can see, also, that the method of making types was as imperfect as the method of obtaining impression. It is possible that the matrices and moulds wore out as fast as the types, but they could not have been renewed if they had not been made by a much quicker and cheaper method than that of modern type-founders. It is not at all probable that these different types were in use together. We may suppose that as soon as a font of types was worn out, it was replaced by another font, which may have been cast from new matrices and a new adjustment of mould. A new font made in imitation of the old one, but made without scientific method, and without regard to exact accuracy, would show the difference in face and body which seems so strange to the modern printer.

These eight fonts of type seem all the more unnecessary when we consider the trivial nature of the unknown printer’s works.[149] The _Speculum_ is the only book of respectable size; the others are so diminutive that they could be classified as pamphlets. They were cheaply made, adapted, apparently, to the wants of school-boys, and were probably sold for small sums. It is evident that the books met with ready sale. We find four editions of the _Speculum_ in two faces of type and in two languages; nineteen editions of the _Donatus_ in six faces of type; six editions of the _Doctrinal_ in two faces; and twelve editions of other books.

From the character of the books, one might judge that they had been printed for the use of some school, and at the suggestion, or under the direction, of the authorities of the church. The _Abecedarium_ was a primer for small children. The books most frequently published, the _Donatus_ and the _Doctrinal_, were those most needed by very young scholars. [p294] The _Couplets of Cato_, the curt treatise on the _Roman Law_, and the _Praise of the Iliad_, are, in size and subject, the books that would be suitable for a boy’s school in the middle ages. The _Treatises_ of Saliceto and Torquemada, the _Witty Sayings of Great Men_ and the _Eulogy_ of Pope Pius II, may also be included in the list of books that were intended to be used in schools for the teaching of morals. The character of these works is more juvenile than that of any other typographic printer of that century. Whoever compares them with the ponderous theological works that were printed by Mentel, Gutenberg and Schœffer, and by numerous printers in Germany, and subsequently in the Netherlands, will at once see that this unknown printer made books for boys where other printers made books for men. Probably he could secure no other buyers. His workmanship was so rude that it could not be sold to an intelligent or critical reader. His process was suitable only for the cheapest work and the simplest tastes.

[From De la Borde.]]

[From De la Borde.]]

[From De la Borde.]]

It is unnecessary to prove that the types of these books, like the types of the _Speculum_, were founded in a mould. They show the same features, and must have been made by the same process. It is, however, necessary to show that neither these types, nor [p295] any types made in the infancy of the art, could have been cut on wood or metal. There is a tradition, which has found its way in many popular treatises on typography, and even in encyclopædias, that the first types were cut or sawed out of wood. We are told that separate letters, drawn at graduated distances, were engraved on blocks of wood, and that a saw cutting through the intervening spaces separated the fixed letters and made movable types. According to Meerman, the uncouthness of the types of the _Abecedarium_ is fully explained by the acceptance of this tradition. It is necessary, at the outset, to show the impracticability of these imaginary types of wood. This can be done in no better way than by presenting the illustrations of Leon De la Borde, one of the most eminent defenders of the theory. In these engravings, we see how the letters were drawn on the blocks, how lines were marked out to guide the saw that cut them apart, and how the dissected letters were recombined in new positions. But this illustration really proves the reverse of what was intended: it proves that types may be cut out of wood, but that they cannot be used after they have been cut. In this third illustration, the lines of type are separated by leads,[151] but the types stand more unevenly in line than the letters of any xylographic book. It is obvious to every printer that they could not have been printed at all, if they had not been [p296] leaded. As an imitation, the illustration is of no value, for it illustrates a method of arranging types which was never practised by the unknown printer, whose types were always composed without leads. This pretended demonstration must be put aside as a complete failure.[152]

Those who have written in defense of types of wood have failed to see that the cutting of the faces is the least difficult part of the work. The real difficulty is in the cutting of the bodies—in making bodies so accurate that they can be interchanged with facility, in all kinds of combinations, without showing distortion in the line of the face. In small types made of wood this accuracy is not possible. Even if it were possible to cut them, it would be impossible to use them. No care could keep them from warping. Types must be wet with ink, and they must be cleansed with lye or water; they must be exposed to changes from heat to cold, from dampness to dryness. Under these influences, the little skewers of wood, for so they must be regarded, would soon be twisted out of shape, and unfitted for future service. It is in this liability to warp that types of wood fail most signally. It is not enough that they can be made to serve for one experiment; the only demonstration of practicability that a printer can accept is [p297] that of repeated distribution and recomposition, a feat which has never been done. That types of wood were tried by the inventor of typography is probable; that single leaves were printed, experimentally, is possible; but the statement that any printer used them repeatedly in the printing of books, cannot be admitted. No book was ever printed in Europe with small types of wood. It is time, says Van der Linde, that criticism made a bonfire of these imaginary types.[153]

The hypothesis of types of wood has been given up reluctantly. It was considered that the singular variety of letters, so noticeable in all the books of the unknown printer, and so contrary to the usage of the modern type-founder, could have been produced only by engraving the types. A demonstration of the impracticability of bodies of wood seemed to [p298] destroy with it the only reasonable explanation of the greatest peculiarity of these types. To place this imaginary method of making types on unassailable ground, Meerman offered a modification of the theory. He supposed that the first printers of Germany founded little cubes of metal, with truly squared bodies, upon one end of which the faces were subsequently engraved. The misconstruction of the language of a chronicler of the sixteenth century—who, in trying to explain the process of making types, carelessly placed the cutting of the punch after the founding of the type—seemed a full warrant for this conjecture. It is, however, but a conjecture: there is no credible authority for the statement that the printers first cast the bodies and then cut the faces. Cut types, if made at all, were made only in the way of preliminary experiment. The method is as impracticable as it is absurd. “He must have been an imbecile,” says Bernard, “who could not see that the process of founding in a mould which made the body would also make the face.”

The allusions to letter-cutting that are so frequent in all the earlier notices of type-making can be readily explained. The cutting is not that of types used for printing, but of the punches by which the printing types were made. The types of the early printers were made by two classes of workmen: he who poured the melted metal was the founder; he who made the model letters was the cutter. Performing the more artistic and the more difficult part of the work, the punch-cutter was properly regarded as the maker of the types.

The variety of faces in the types of the unknown printer can be explained in a much more satisfactory manner than by attributing them to the accidental slips or deviation of the graving tool. The letters of the manuscript books of that century were not uniform; it was not necessary that printed letters should be uniform. The fashion of the day did not require it. On the contrary, it did seem desirable that the letters should be printed with the variety of shapes to which readers were accustomed. Whether this variety of shape in [p299] type was the result of design, of accident, or of necessity need not now be considered; in this place it is enough to say that all the early printers made many varieties of the letters which they most frequently used.[154] It should, however, be noticed that this apparent taste for variety of form was confined to the small or lower-case letters. Two forms of a capital letter are rarely found in the same book, but the same form of capital is occasionally used with two faces of lower-case types that are decidedly different.

The dissimilarity of the small types has been made greater by faults of type-founding and of presswork. In all copies of the _Speculum_ the careful observer will see the impressions of types with imperfect faces. There are many half-formed letters, with little peculiarities of appearance which can be satisfactorily explained only by the conjecture that the types in leaving the mould, carried with them the impress of defects in the matrices. We can see that the types were unequal in height, and that the over-high types have been flattened out under impression. This flattening-out of the soft metal has produced a strange appearance of compactness, making letters that were really separate seem connected. The ink, which [p300] was sometimes thin and gray and sometimes thick and strong black, was applied by an imperfect method which has filled the counters of some letters until they are almost illegible, while it has not fairly covered the faces of other letters. The singular irregularities of a collection of types, apparently new on one page and worn-out on another, which have provoked the astonishment of many critics, are chargeable, not to the condition of the types, but to faulty methods of inking and impression. Few persons have a proper notion of the changes that can be given to the appearance of the best modern types by substituting wet for dry paper, hard for light impression, and thin for thick ink.[155]

How the types of these and of other early books were founded cannot be learned from the vague descriptions of the early chroniclers of typography. We have to conjecture the process from the workmanship of the books. The discrepancies in the bodies and the imperfections of the faces indicate that the process was rude and unscientific, and that the mould was not of metal. It is possible that the maker of these types followed the example of other founders in metals, and made types in moulds of sand.[156] There are some peculiarities in his types which almost confirm this conjecture. The difficulty encountered in fitting matrices to these moulds, or in adjusting the mould of the face of the letter in proper position on the body, a difficulty that calls for no explanation, may be the reason why the types are so often out of line, crookedly set on body and of irregular height to paper. The feebleness of the sand mould, its liability to damage, and the necessity for its frequent renewal are, possibly, the reasons why we find in the [p301] impressions of the unknown printer types of so many bodies, and with such singular defects.[157] The rounded edges, spotted stems and deficient lines of many of the letters seem the faults of types unskillfully founded in moulds of sand, from metal insufficiently hot, poured in without the force that is needed to make it penetrate all the finer lines of the matrix.[158]

Koning, the author of a prize essay on the invention of typography by Coster, expresses his belief in the theory that the types of the _Speculum_ were made from punches of wood and were founded in matrices of lead. His belief in the use of these rude implements is based on the well known fact that matrices of lead were frequently used by the earlier German and Dutch printers. Enschedé of Haarlem had in his type-foundry matrices of lead, which he claimed were used by Peter Schœffer in the fifteenth century. Firmin-Didot, the eminent [p302] type-founder of Paris, says that punches of wood and matrices of lead were used in his type-foundry for the casting of large ornamental types even as late as the beginning of the present century. His description is as curious as it is instructive.

. . . I have often made use of this process, . . . which is to sink in lead, a character cut on wood, at the instant when, melted by heat, the lead is about to harden. Matrices of lead made by this process are subsequently justified for height and for lining, like other matrices. Then, by the ordinary process of stereotyping, one may take from this matrix, a duplicate in metal, which, after having been dressed, is replaced in the matrix in lead, and fitted up to a mould. The melted metal poured in this mould, not only makes the body of the type, but at the same time solders itself to the stereotype [nested in the matrix] which makes the face of the type. By this process one may take from a matrix in lead, a type as perfect as that which is obtained in the ordinary manner. But these matrices in lead will only make a limited number of stereotypes. . . . By taking the precaution to cool occasionally a matrix in lead, one can obtain from sixty to eighty types, without being obliged to re-enter the old matrix with the punch of wood, or to make a new matrix from the same punch. For vowels, and for the letters that are more frequently used, it is necessary to increase the number of matrices. But whenever the punch re-enters the matrix, the form of the punch undergoes some alteration from the effects of the pressure and the heat. It often happens that the punch is burned during the little time that it is buried in the hot metal. It then becomes necessary to re-engrave the punch. These are the reasons why differences in shape are to be found in the letters that are most frequently used.[159]

Whether the types of the unknown printer were founded entirely in sand, or in matrices of lead, cannot be positively determined from the appearance of the letters, for it seems that either method of founding would produce types showing similar defects. It is probable that the punches were cut on wood, and sunk in hot metal as described by Didot, and that the types of the _Speculum_ were not only cast in lead matrices, but that the matrices were sometimes conjoined, and that two or more letters were cast together on one body. There is a closeness of fitting in some of the words which cannot be [p303] explained with entire satisfaction by the hypothesis that this closeness is the result of flattening out under pressure. One is strengthened in this belief when he discovers that it was not an uncommon practice in the type-foundries of the fifteenth century to join the matrices. Six of the matrices owned by Enschedé, and by him attributed to Schœffer, were made to be combined. These leaden matrices were pierced through their sides with a gimlet-hole, in which an iron wire was inserted to bind them together, and keep them securely on the mould. The method was faulty, for it could not keep the matrices in proper position; it could not produce types uniform as to height and true as to line.[160]

The thick faces and flattened lines of the types in many of the unknown printer’s books show that his types were of very soft metal, probably of pure lead. To satisfy his doubts on this subject, Enschedé cast in some of his antique moulds types composed almost entirely of lead. The experiment succeeded: he was convinced that practical types of lead could be founded in matrices of lead.[161] Blades carried this experiment to a more successful conclusion, for he put the types to practical use. He had cast for him a collection of types in [p304] “unmixed lead,” with which he printed five hundred impressions on rough and dry paper. He says that the types showed no appreciable wear; but this is not surprising, for we have evidences that they were printed by an expert pressman on an iron press provided with every appliance requisite for a nice adjustment of the impression.

It is not at all probable that the press of the unknown printer had these handy appliances. All the printing presses made before the nineteenth century had wooden frames, with beds of slate or stone, and platens or pressing surfaces of wood. Impression was given by the direct action of a screw, the force applied being regulated only by the discretion of the pressman. Knight, in his essay on Caxton, says the press of that printer was a modification of the cheese-press, provided with an attachment that permitted the form of types to be moved in and out of the press. German authors say that the first printing press was a modification of the wine-press. Bernard says it was, probably, an improved form of coining or stamping press. But these are only conjectures. We can find no engraving nor any verbal description of the form of the printing press in use during the fifteenth century. The general neglect by all artists and writers of this important auxiliary to printing is an indication that no importance was attached either to the mechanism of the press or to the principle of impression. It seems to have been generally understood that, whatever merit there might have been in the invention of printing, no noteworthy inventive skill had been shown in the construction of the press. It was not only a rude but an old contrivance.

We have many evidences that the press of the unknown printer was of the rudest construction. Some pages have the marks of strong pressure in one corner and of weak impression in another—manifestly the result of the printer’s inability to regulate or control the force he exerted. The margins of the _Speculum_ are of unequal width; the type-work is rarely ever parallel with the engraving at the head or at a proper [p305] distance from it. On some pages, the types overlap or bite on the wood-cuts; on other pages they are too near or too far from them. One of the reasons why the _Speculum_ was printed on one side only was the deficiency in this press of any contrivance for determining the proper position of the sheet before the impression was taken. The pressman could not print one page truly and squarely on the back of another page. Koning says that the printer did not have the least idea of the means to be used for accomplishing this result.[162] This defect of the press can be seen in the pages of the small books without illustrations: they were printed on both sides, but the modern printer would condemn the work as seriously out of register.

The most remarkable peculiarity in the presswork of the _Speculum_ is the embossed letters at the ends of the short lines.[163] They are most noticeable in the two Latin editions, which contain lines of unequal length. To the modern printer the purpose to be accomplished by the use of the old and worn types that produced these embossed letters is apparent at a glance. They served as bearers or guards to shield newer and better types in exposed positions from an impression which [p306] could not be regulated. This exposed position was at the ends of the long lines; the types that projected beyond their fellows received the hardest impression, and the printer knew no better method of shielding them than by the insertion of worn types at the ends of the shorter lines above and below.[164]

This expedient was insufficient. On the margins of many copies of the _Speculum_ can be detected (for the grain of wood is unmistakable) the marks of impressions against wood. It seems that the pages of types were fastened in a mortised block of wood of the same height as the types. This block of wood not only served as a chase to hold the types, but as a bearer to shield the types from uneven impression. It steadied the descent of the platen, and diffused the impression equally over the entire surface. These bearers shielded the types from undue impression, but they made a new difficulty, for they were of the same height as the types. The inking of a form so constructed must have blackened with equal impartiality the types of the text, the worn types used as bearers, and the wooden chase. To lay a sheet of white paper over such a form would smear and blacken it at the ends of short lines and in the margins where no color was required. It became necessary to put a mask over these bearers, so that the ink on the bearers would not be transferred to the paper.

This mask was substantially the same contrivance which modern printers call the frisket. It shielded the white sheet from contact with ink where ink was not required, but could not shield it from impression. It really strengthened and deepened the impression, producing the embossed letters in the short lines and the marks of wood in the margins. On [p307] some pages the slipping or displacement of this paper mask caused the false letters to be printed in black; on one other page the mask slipped so trivially that one-half of the false types was printed in black, while the other half was embossed in white; on another page the mask slipped over the text type, and obscured the end of the line. These were exceptional errors; the general execution of this part of the work shows that the printer was a man of some intelligence, and that with imperfect materials he performed a very difficult task.

_A C_ The Frisket. _C B_ The Tympan. _B D_ The Bed.

The operation of presswork begins with inking the form on the bed of the press, which, in this illustration, is supposed to contain a form not unlike that of the _Speculum_, nested in a chase type-high. The sheet is laid on the tympan against guides that keep it in place. The frisket, containing the paper masks cut out to sink the irregularities of the form, is folded down in the line A B, partially covering the paper on the tympan. The tympan is then folded over on the line C D, which operation brings the paper down on the face of the form, ready to receive the impression. These are the appliances of a modern press. The frisket of the unknown printer was of much simpler construction, probably nothing more than a mask of paper laid on the form of types by hand.]

[p308]

XVI

The Period in which the Speculum was Printed.

The Paper-Marks of the Speculum, with Fac-similes . . . Not Evidence of Age . . . The Earliest Dated Annotation . . . Earliest Known Manuscript copy in Dutch . . . Indications that the Book was Printed at Utrecht . . . Probably Printed in the Last Half of the Fifteenth Century . . . Review of the Evidences . . . The Cambray Record . . . Printers of the Fraternity of St. John at Bruges . . . Testimony of Zell in the Cologne Chronicle . . . All Unsatisfactory . . . Discordant Opinions . . . Dutch Printing probably Xylographic . . . No Evidence of an Early Use of Types in Holland . . . Early Printing in Haarlem . . . Jacob Bellaert . . . Fac-simile of his Types . . . His Successors . . . Brito of Bruges, with Fac-simile of his Types . . . Was not an Inventor . . . Netherlandish Knowledge of Printing came from Cologne . . . Map of the Netherlands . . . Not probable that Types were Used there before 1463.

* * * * *

The utility and charm of historical researches do not depend upon the exactness of their results. Inasmuch as error is misfortune, so examination is profitable, even that which does no more than declare as evident the opinion which had been regarded as plausible.

_Daunou._

* * * * *

The paper-marks[165] of the _Speculum_ and of other works of the unknown printer have been repeatedly examined in the belief that they would reveal the place where and the time when the paper was manufactured. A Dutch author has said that these marks enable us to determine when the books in which they are to be seen were printed. An English author, [p309] who devoted the larger part of a folio volume to a review of the paper-marks of the block-books, undertook to prove from them that the _Speculum_ must have been printed before 1440.

All known copies of the _Speculum_ contain a variety of dissimilar paper-marks. Among them are the hand, the dolphin, the lily, the unicorn, bulls’ heads, the letter P, the letter Y, the letters M A, the spurred wheel, and the papal keys. Many of these marks are found in the paper of the _Canticles_ and the _Bible of the Poor_. It is evident that papers bearing so great a variety of paper-marks were not made at one mill, and probably not in the same district. They were not made in Holland, at least not during the first half of the fifteenth century, for there were then no paper-mills in that country. The early records of the treasury of the city of Haarlem, which are written on papers containing paper-marks like those of the _Speculum_, show that the paper was bought at Antwerp. Koning thinks that the _Speculum_, and the block-books which are printed on the same paper, must have been printed between 1420 and 1440; that the paper of the books was made in Brabant; and that many of the paper-marks are the initials or arms of the house of Burgundy. According to Koning, the letter P stands for Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, who reigned from 1419 to 1467; the letter Y stands for Ysabella of Portugal, who married Philip in 1430; M A stand for Margaret, who was countess of Holland before that state was ceded to Philip in 1433. These are very confident assumptions; they require a careful examination.

A closer investigation has elicited these facts: the letter P has been found in the accounts of the Count of Holland at the Hague for the year 1387; paper bearing the same P was used by many printers of the Netherlands, by one printer in Paris, and by several printers in Germany in the last quarter of the fifteenth century. It is found in paper made before and [p310] after the reign of Philip, and in cities over which Philip never ruled. Paper containing the letter Y was used in 1395, before Ysabella was born; it was in use for many years after she was dead; paper with the letters M A joined to the arms of Bavaria must have been made before her daughter Jacqueline was married, or, in other words, before 1422, an earlier date than can be claimed for any typographic book. The rude paper-mark of the bull’s head was in frequent use between the years 1370 and 1523 in the Netherlands and in Germany; it is found in the great Bible of Gutenberg. It is, therefore, of no value in an inquiry concerning the date of any book in which it has been found. The paper-mark of the lily was used even in the fourteenth century; in the fifteenth it was as common as the bull’s head. It is found in books that were printed in Cologne and in Paris, in Utrecht, Gouda, Delft, Louvain and Deventer. Paper marked with the unicorn was frequently used by the later Netherlandish printers. It did not go out of use until 1620. It is found in so many shapes that it is impossible to determine by it the date, or the printer, of any book on which it was used.

When we find that these marks were used in manuscripts before the fifteenth century, and in printed books at the end of the fifteenth century, we have to conclude that they are almost worthless as evidence[166] in an inquiry concerning the printer of the _Speculum_. Instead of proving that the _Speculum_ must have been printed between 1420 and 1440, they really show, so far as paper is connected with the question, that the various editions of the book could have been printed in the third, and perhaps in the fourth, quarter of the century. [p311] We have a clearer indication of the period of the unknown printer in the fragments of his work that have been discovered in the cover linings of manuscript and printed books bound in the latter part of the fifteenth century. It is obvious that the fragments are older than the bindings, but it is not probable that they are much older, for no fragment has been found in any book made before the year 1467. The larger portion came from bindings made after 1470.

A copy of _William of Saliceto on the Health of the Body_ contains a written memorandum or annotation to this effect: “This book was bought by Lord Conrad, abbot of this place, XXXIIII [?], who died in the year 1474.” Conrad du Moulin was abbot between the years 1471 and 1474 only. Another inscription in the same book states that it once belonged to the Convent of St. James at Lille.[167] These inscriptions have been cited to show that the unknown printer preceded every other typographic printer in the Netherlands; but the precedence claimed is unimportant, for we know that Ketelaer and De Leempt printed books at Utrecht in 1473.

In a public library at Haarlem is a manuscript copy of a version of the _Speculum_ in the Dutch language—an admirably illustrated book of 290 leaves of vellum—which contains these inscriptions: “This book was finished in the year of our Lord 1464, on the 16th day of July. . . . An Ave Maria to God for the writer. . . . . This book belongs to Cayman Janszoen of Zierikzee, living with the Carthusians near Utrecht.”[168] Van der Linde says that the text of the two editions in Dutch described on a previous page, is really an abridgment of the text of this Utrecht manuscript of 1464.

This fact established, the claim that the Dutch editions of the book were printed before this date becomes untenable. Nor is there positive evidence that the book was printed anywhere out of Utrecht. Utrecht was the residence of David, a prince of Burgundy and a notable patron of literature; it was also the residence of the bishop of the diocese; it had a [p312] gymnasium (as the high school of the time was then designated) of some reputation; it was a favorable location for an early printer; it was in Utrecht that the mutilated blocks of the _Speculum_ were printed by John Veldener in 1483.

The book containing the _Eulogy_ on Pope Pius II, which must have been printed after the year 1459, and the _Abecedarium_, with its evenly spaced lines and its arrangement in octavo, are specimens of the typography, not of the second, but of the third, quarter of the fifteenth century. The Latin editions of the _Speculum_ were, no doubt, printed before the Dutch editions; but when we consider the activity of nearly all the early printers, and their frequent publication of popular books, it is hazardous to concede to the Latin editions a priority of more than five years. But Dutch bibliographers claim that the earlier editions of the book were printed at least thirty-three, perhaps fifty, years before the arrival of German printers in the Netherlands. To support this claim, they refer to passages or annotations in old manuscript books, which seem to show that printed books were common in the Netherlands during the middle of the century. These passages and annotations demand critical examination.

There is an entry in an old diary which, on its first reading, produces the impression that printed books were sold in Bruges as ordinary merchandise in the first half of the fifteenth century. This entry was made by one Jean le Robert, abbot of St. Aubert in Cambray, then a city of Burgundy.

_Item._ For a doctrinal _getté en molle_, which I sent to Bruges for in the month of January, 1445, from Marquart, the first copyist at Valenciennes, for Jacquart, twenty sous, currency of Tours. Little Alexander had a similar copy for which the church paid.

_Item._ Procured at Arras a doctrinal for the instruction of the Lord Gerard, which had been bought at Valenciennes, and which was _jettez en molle_, and which cost twenty-four groots. He [Lord Gerard] returned to me this doctrinal on All Saints’ Day, in the year ’51, saying that he set no value on it, and that it was altogether faulty. He had bought another copy in paper for ten patards.[169] [p313]

The importance of this document depends entirely upon the construction of these words, _getté en molle_. Bernard says that they have always been regarded in France as the equivalent of printing, or of printed letters.[170] The literal meaning of the words is, _cast in mould_. So construed, no words could more clearly define founded types. This construction of the phrase would prove the existence of a typographic printer in Bruges at least as early as 1445. The dry, matter-of-fact way in which the words were used would show that books of this description were not novelties; that they were sold in Arras and in Bruges; that book-buyers were critical about their workmanship, and knew how they were made.

This construction of the phrase has been keenly disputed. Van der Linde says that the books were printed, but not from types—from blocks that had been _getté en molle_, or put into form, or put into readable shape, by the art of engraving. He cites authorities showing that the word _molle_ or _mould_ had been applied to forms of manuscript.[171]

Dr. Van Meurs proposes a new construction—that _getté en molle_ has nothing to do either with types or blocks. “Who does not perceive, while reading the Cambray document, that in 1451, the term _getté en molle_ is used in contradistinction to _in paper_? Do not these terms make us rather think of books in loose sheets as opposed to sheets that are bound? What can _molle_ mean but form? What is a book _getté en molle_ but a book brought together in a form, or in a binding, in [p314] opposition to another book in paper, or in a paper cover?” This conjecture is reasonable. No one knows of an early edition of this book from engraved blocks. As the seller of one copy was a copyist we may conclude that both copies were written.

Equally unsatisfactory to an unprejudiced reader is the misconstruction of the word printer in the list of the different arts or trades embraced by the Confraternity of St. John the Baptist, at Bruges. It has been inferred that the printers here noticed were printers of types, and that typographic printing was done in 1454, when the following list was written:[172]

Librariers en boeckverkopers, or booksellers. Vinghettemakers, or painters in miniature. Scrivers en boucscrivers, or scriveners and copyists of books. Scoolemeesters, or schoolmasters. Prentervercoopers, or image sellers. Verlichters, or illuminators. Prenters, or printers. Boucbinders, or bookbinders. Riemmakers, or curriers who prepare skins for parchment-makers. Perkementmakers en fransynmakers, or makers of parchment. Guispelsniders, or makers of decorations for bound books. Scoolevrowen, or schoolmistresses. Lettersnyders, or engravers of letters. Scilders, or painters. Drochscherrers, or shearers of cloth. Beeldemakers, or makers of images.[173]

We have here a careful and, probably, a complete specification of all trades contributing to the manufacture of books, but there is no mention of type-makers nor of typographers. [p315]

In 1442 there was an organized society of book-makers in the city of Antwerp, known as the Fraternity of Saint Luke. Like the association of Bruges, it comprised every trade that contributed to the making of books. The trade of printer is in their list, as it is in that of the Confraternity of Saint John of Bruges; but in this list there is no mention of the makers or printers of types. The printers of the fraternities were, no doubt, the printers of playing cards, images and block-books.[174]

The earliest notice of book-printing in the Netherlands is that of the _Cologne Chronicle_ of 1499, which is to this effect:

This highly valuable art was discovered first of all in Germany, at Mentz on the Rhine. And it is a great honor to the German nation that such ingenious men are found among them. And it took place about the year of our Lord 1440, and from this time until the year 1450, the art, and what is connected with it, was being investigated. And in the year of our Lord 1450 it was a golden year [jubilee], and they began to print, and the first book they printed was the Bible in Latin; it was printed in a large letter, resembling the letter with which at present missals are printed. Although the art [as has been said] was discovered at Mentz, in the manner as it is now generally used, yet the first prefiguration [_die erste vurbyldung_] was found in Holland [the Netherlands], in the _Donatuses_, which were printed there before that time. And from these _Donatuses_ the beginning of the said art was taken, and it was invented in a manner much more masterly and subtile than this, and became more and more ingenious. One named Omnibonus, wrote in a preface to the book called Quinctilianus, and in some other books too, that a Walloon from France, named Nicol. Jenson, discovered first of all this masterly art; but that is untrue, for [p316] there are those still alive who testify that books were printed at Venice before Nicol. Jenson came there and began to cut and make letters. But the first inventor of printing was a citizen of Mentz, born at Strasburg, and named Junker Johan Gutenberg. From Mentz the art was introduced first of all into Cologne, then into Strasburg, and afterward into Venice. The origin and progress of the art was told me verbally by the honorable master Ulrich Zell, of Hanau, still printer at Cologne, anno 1499, and by whom the said art came to Cologne.[175]

Ulrich Zell is a candid and a competent witness, yet he narrates not what he had seen, but what he had heard. He was but a mere child, possibly unborn, when Gutenberg began to experiment with types at Strasburg about the year 1436, or sixty-three years before this chronicle was printed.

Zell’s statement is the earliest acknowledgment of the priority of book-printing in Holland, but it is an incomplete and unsatisfactory acknowledgment. He names Gutenberg, but he does not name the printer of the _Donatus_. He specifies the period between 1440 and 1450 as the time, and Mentz as the place, and the great _Latin Bible_ as the first product, of the German invention; but he does not specify the year nor the city in which the _Donatus_ was first printed. The only specifications are—in Holland,[176] before Gutenberg, and by an inferior method. It is apparent that Zell did not have exact knowledge of the details of early Dutch printing, and that he could not describe its origin nor its peculiarities with accuracy.

We cannot supplement Zell’s imperfect description of early Dutch printing with knowledge or with inferences that might [p317] be derived from a critical examination of the Dutch _Donatuses_. These books, described by him as the prefiguration of typography, have been destroyed. There is no known copy of the _Donatus_, neither typographic nor xylographic, which can be attributed to a period before that of Gutenberg’s first experiments in Strasburg. The early typographic copies have the full-spaced lines, which were not in use before 1460 in any book; the xylographic copies are about as old, and, for the most part, are imitations of the typographic editions. Guided by these facts we have to conclude that it is not probable that the _Donatuses_ of Zell were printed from types.

The frequent repetition of the statement that _the_ art was invented in Germany shows there was no confusion in the mind of the writer concerning the relative importance of the German and the Dutch method of printing. He clearly perceived, although he obscurely described, two distinct methods of book-printing: the first, the method used for printing the _Donatus_, which method was imperfect and but a prefiguration; the second, the method that was more masterly and subtile, the method that now is used. The second method was, without doubt, the making of accurate types in metal moulds, and the printing of great books. It was not the second invention, but the invention, inasmuch as it was the only invention that had a practical value. The _Donatus_ was printed, but it was not printed by _the art_. It was _the art as it is now used_, the only practical art of making types and books, of which Gutenberg was the first inventor.

According to German historians, the first method was xylography. They say that it was the sight of some lost or now unknown copy of an engraved _Donatus_, which gave to Gutenberg the suggestion of the more subtile invention of movable types; that this _Donatus_ was not taken as a model for imitation—it served only as the suggestion of an entirely new method. Dutch historians say that it is unreasonable to assume that this _Donatus_ was engraved on wood. There is force in the argument that it is not probable that Ulrich Zell, [p318] the printer, who furnished the writer of the chronicle with his facts, and who, as a German, was proud that typography was a German invention, would have ascribed the first rude practice of printing to Holland, if this practice had been nothing but xylography. It cannot be supposed that Gutenberg was so ignorant of the productions of German formschneiders that he believed xylographic printing was done only in Holland. They say that the suggestive _Donatus_ which was made in Holland should have been a typographic book, printed as the _Speculum_ was printed, from types founded by an inferior method—a method that was never imitated.

It will be seen that the statement of the Cologne chronicler is so ambiguous that it can be wrested to the benefit of either side of the question. It can be used to support the hypothesis that there were two inventions of typography—one Dutch, one German—one of little and the other of great merit—both alike in theory, but unlike in process and in result. But it is not worth while to consider the probability of a very early invention of typography in Holland until we can find the evidences which will compensate for the deficiencies of Zell.

This evidence is wanting. The statement attributed to Ulrich Zell is the only acknowledgment made by any writer, Dutch or German, during the fifteenth century. In view of the pretensions subsequently made, the silence of the earliest Dutch writers and printers seems unaccountable. Many of the printers were learned and patriotic men, proud of their art and of their country, but in none of their books do we find any claim for Holland as the birthplace of typography. Nor was this claim made by any of the great men of Holland. Erasmus, the scholar, the guest and corrector of the press for John Froben, the friend and correspondent of Thierry Martens, first scholarly printer in the Netherlands, should have known something of the introduction of typography in his native country; but the only mention that he made of the origin of the art was to attribute its invention to Germany. Before the year 1480, three chronicles of the events of the century had been [p319] printed in Holland, but in none of them is any notice made of early printing in Holland. The printers of Holland who followed their business in other cities never claimed Haarlem as the birthplace of typography. Before the year 1500, there were Dutch printers who put on record, in imprints attached to their books,[177] their belief in the statement that printing had been invented in Germany. It does not appear that there was then any knowledge of the legend of Haarlem.

[From Holtrop.]]

At this point it may be proper to record what is exactly known about the old printing offices of this town. The first Haarlem book with a printed date is of the year 1483. It is a little religious book that contains thirty-two wood-cuts and a peculiar face of type that had been used the year before by one Gerard Leeu of Gouda. The printer’s name is not given, but a colophon at the end of the book distinctly says that it was printed at “haerlem in hollant.” From the same press, by the same printer, and with the same types, seven other books were printed before the year 1486. In one of these books, dated 1484, is printed the name of the printer, Jacob Bellaert of Zierikzee. There is no evidence that he had been taught typography in Haarlem, nor that he succeeded to any old printing office in that town. Bellaert was from Zierikzee; his types and his wood-cuts had been procured from Gerard Leeu of Gouda. The types are of a condensed form, superior to those of the _Speculum_, fairly lined, obviously cast in moulds [p320] of metal, entirely unlike those of the unknown printer. The engravings have many peculiarities of design and cut which are not to be found in any known block-book.

Jan Andrieszoon was the second printer of Haarlem. In 1485 he opened a printing office with a stock of old and worn types, printed seven books, four with and three without a date. There is no evidence whatever that connects him or his works with the unknown printer. The competition of two rival printers in a small town produced the usual result. As no book can be found with the imprint of either printer after 1486, we have to infer that the printers closed their offices and abandoned typography.

The imprint of Haarlem does not again appear on any book before 1507. The name of the third printer is supposed to be Hasback, who, in 1506, had an office in Amsterdam, which he removed to Haarlem. His enterprise was unsuccessful, for no book of a later date can be attributed to him.

There is neither record nor tradition of any typographic printer in Haarlem between the years 1507 and 1561. The account books of the treasury of the town contain entries which show that its typographic work was done at Leyden. Coornhert and Van Zuren, “sworn book-printers at Haarlem,” were also unsuccessful, for we have no evidences of their work after the year 1562.

In 1581, Anthonis Ketel was in possession of a printing office in Haarlem, but typography cannot be considered as securely established in that town before 1587, in which year one Gillis Rooman began to print. He continued to work as printer until 1611, when he was succeeded by Adrien Rooman.

There is nothing in this list of unsuccessful printers which assures us that typography had been invented or cherished in Haarlem. Nor is there even any recorded evidence of an early printing of block-books. There was, at an early date, in Haarlem a guild composed of painters, goldsmiths, sculptors, and of other artisans; but we can find no engraver on wood, no _prenter_ or _figuersnyder_ among the members. “The harvest [p321] of history,” writes Dr. Van der Linde, concerning Haarlem, “on the field of typography may be scanty; on the field of xylography it does not yield anything.”

This recital of the names and the fortunes of the earlier printers of Haarlem is not altogether irrelevant; it furnishes a proper introduction to the legend of Haarlem. The first printer in Haarlem, Jacob Bellaert, whose art must have been a wonder to simple people, closed his office after two or three years of unsuccessful labor, and probably went to some other place. The printers who followed him at long intervals were equally unsuccessful. Van der Linde thinks that it is around the first printing office of Haarlem that the vague traditions have clustered.

In none of the notices of early Netherlandish printing do we find any mention of Coster of Haarlem, or any description of printing by types. There is extant, however, an allusion, which cannot be passed by unnoticed, to the printed work of one Brito of Bruges, who, about 1481, printed a little book entitled _The Book of Doctrine for the Instruction of Christians_. The first page of this book says that it is a copy of two great tablets in the Church of Our Lady of Terouanne; the last page has this inscription in six lines of faulty Latin rhyme: [p322]

[From Holtrop.]]

Brito was a member of the Fraternity of Saint John the Baptist, between the years 1454 and 1494, but he was not industrious as a printer, for Campbell can attribute but four books to him. Van Praet[179] says that he was engaged by the bishop of the church to paint or to affix this _Book of Doctrine_ on the great tablets, which he did by the wonderful art of stenciling, with the very astonishing instruments of perforated letters, nobody having instructed him. Proud of his work, he attached this inscription. When he printed the composition in the form of a book he repeated the inscription. It is not possible that Brito intended to convey the notion that he had invented typography. So far from inventing types, Brito did not even make the types that he used in this book. They are the types of Veldener of Utrecht.[180]