Chapter II: Part 2

(1) “_Item_: This most revered Art was discovered first of all
at Mentz in Germany, and it is a great honour to the German
nation that men so ingenious were there found. This was in the
year of our Lord 1440. From that time until the year 1450 the
Art and the things pertaining to it were greatly improved, and
in this year men began to print, and the first book so printed
was the Bible in Latin, the character of which was larger than
that now in use for mass-books.

(2) “_Item_: Although this Art was discovered at Mentz in the
manner now commonly used, yet its first prefiguration was found
in Holland, in the Donatuses which had been already printed
there. From these Donatuses was derived the origin of this Art,
which is now more masterly and clever than before, and far more
ingenious.... The first inventor of Printing was a citizen of
Mentz, born in Strasbourg, and called John Gutenberg.

(3) “_Item_: From Mentz the Art was first taken to Cologne,
thence to Strasbourg, and thence to Venice. This beginning and
progress of the Art was told me by that worthy man, Master
Ulric Zell, of Hainault, Printer, of Cologne, in this present
year, 1499, by whom indeed the Art was first brought into that
city.”

Similar evidence is given by Mariangelus Accursius, an Italian writer of the fifteenth century, who, while attributing the invention of types as then used to Fust and Schœffer at Mayence, says that the idea was certainly taken originally from the Donatuses printed in Holland.

Now these “Items” are quite distinct in idea. The first tells us that Printing was invented at Mayence, and goes on to particularise what the writer means by Printing, viz.: a Latin Bible in large type. The second qualifies the first by saying that “_this_ Art,” which, of course, means the same art as was used for the Bible, was prefigured by Donatuses printed in Holland, but that John Gutenberg’s invention was more masterly and skilful than the Dutch method. The third tells us how the Art spread, and the writer’s authority for his statements. We are here face to face with a plain statement which, to my mind, settles the point. The Dutch had already types cast in that rough and ready manner familiar to all of us who have studied the wonderful fac-simile plates in Holtrop’s “Monuments Typographiques,” or the “Principia Typographica” of Sotheby. Gutenberg, according to this account, commenced his study of typography in 1440, but it was 1450 before he had so far improved in his method of casting letters that he could venture to _begin_ upon his great Bible.

How these ten years were spent, and how near to 1450 it was before the sight of Dutch Donatuses gave the final impulse to his genius, we shall probably never know.

Dr. Van der Linde and other writers who agree with him maintain that the Cologne Chronicler must have referred to xylographic, _i.e._, block-book, Donatuses, and that the sight of such works developed in the mind of Gutenberg the idea of movable types. Unfortunately for this argument there is not a single Dutch block-book Donatus known, while there are nineteen different editions of early type-printed Dutch Donatuses already catalogued--a number which is being increased every year. Why, too, if Gutenberg derived his inspiration from the sight of a Donatus cut in wood, did he ignore those of his own country, which were before his eyes, in order to gain his impulse from non-existent Dutch ones?

It is an important bibliographical fact that forty-seven different books, or fragments of books, exist, printed with eight different founts of type, all Dutch in origin, all without any name, date, or place, nearly all discovered in the bindings of fifteenth century manuscript or printed books, thirty-three of them on vellum, and four of them printed on one side only. What can we do with this interesting regiment of incunabula? To make them later than, or even contemporaneous with, the earliest _dated_ Dutch books seems impossible: we might as well attribute the language of the Canterbury Tales to the reign of good Queen Bess; but place them about 1450 and onwards, and they take rank naturally.

We will here notice one of the chief causes of the many and contradictory accounts of the origin of printing. It is the natural tendency of all writers to Hero-worship. The value of a central figure around which may be grouped the features of a story is fully appreciated by all authors: it strengthens the weak and adds vigour to the strong. This bias is recognised in the world’s earliest records. Honour and glory, often semi-divine, are attributed to the inventor. For the discovery of letters we must have a Cadmus; Apollo first made harmony; Moses, according to Vergil, originated trumpets; Vulcan, iron weapons; Noah, ships--and so on. And so, Dutchmen who claimed the invention of printing for Holland found the embodiment of it in Coster; Germans, for a similar reason, revere Gutenberg; and Italians, their countryman Castaldi. The Hero obtained, definite records and historical particulars group themselves around him, and thus with a few personal details an impression of truthfulness is given to the story which carries conviction to the reader’s mind, while at the same time artistic requirements are satisfied.

The duty of the historian and critic is to separate judiciously the kernel of truth from the husk, by which in the course of time it is sure to be surrounded--to preserve carefully the one and reject the other.

Although I think we must look to Holland for the earliest specimens of typography, it does not follow that we must believe all the story as given by Junius. There is no reason to doubt he gave the account of Coster as he received and believed it; and his was not an age in which criticism was expected, or was able to separate husk from kernel.

If we suppose the Cologne Chronicler of 1499 to have misunderstood his informant as to the Dutch “prefiguration”; or if the Laurens Janszoon Coster of Junius and the Haarlem Archives was perfectly innocent of any typographical proclivities, it still leaves the Costeriana to be accounted for; and it is these silent witnesses, dug out from the earliest strata of typographical deposits, which by their evidence should determine the vexed question.

It is, however, necessary to know the story which was current when Junius wrote, and we therefore give it as the accepted truth in his time:--

“There lived, about 1440, at Haarlem, in the market-place
opposite the Town Hall, in a respectable house, still in
existence, a man named Laurens Janszoon Coster, _i.e._,
Laurence, son of John Coster. The family name was derived from
the hereditary office of Sacristan or Coster of the Church--a
post both honourable and lucrative. The town archives give
evidence of this, his name appearing therein many times, and
in the Town Hall are preserved his seal and signature to
various documents. To this man belongs the honour of inventing
Printing--an honour of which he was unjustly robbed, and which
afterwards was ascribed to another. The said Laurence Coster,
one day after dinner, took a walk in the wood near Haarlem.
While there, to amuse himself, he began to cut letters out
of some beech-bark. The idea struck him to ink some of these
letters and use them as stamps. This he did to amuse his
grand-children, cutting them in reverse. He thus formed two
or three sentences on paper. The idea germinated, and soon,
with the assistance of his son-in-law, and by using a thick
ink, he began to print whole pages, and to add lines of print
to the Block-books, the text of which was the most difficult
part to engrave. Junius had such a book, called ‘Spieghel
onzer Behoudenisse.’ It should have been said that Coster was
descended from the noble house of Brederode, and that his
son-in-law was also of noble descent. Coster’s first efforts
were of course very rude, and to hide the impressions of the
letters on the back, they pasted the leaves, which had one
side not printed, together. His letters at first were made of
lead, which he afterwards changed for tin. Upon his death these
letters were melted down and made into wine-pots, which at the
time when Junius wrote were still preserved in the house of
Gerrit Thomaszoon, the grandson of Coster. Public curiosity
was greatly excited by Coster’s discovery, and he gained much
profit from his new process. His trade, indeed, so increased
that he was obliged to employ several workmen, one of whom was
named John. Some say this was John Faust, afterwards a partner
with Gutenberg, and others say he was Gutenberg’s brother.
This man when he had learnt the Art in all its branches, took
the opportunity one Christmas eve, when all good people are
accustomed to attend Church, to break into the rooms used for
printing, and to pack up and steal all the tools and appliances
which his master, with so much care and ingenuity, had made.
He went off by Amsterdam and Cologne to Mayence, where he at
once opened a workshop and reaped rich fruit from this theft,
producing several printed books. The accuracy of this story was
attested by a respectable bookbinder, of great age but clear
memory, named Cornelis, who had been a fellow servant with the
culprit in the house of Coster, and indeed had occupied the
same bed for several months, and who could never talk of such
baseness without shedding tears and cursing the thief.”

While giving Junius all credit for recounting this story as he found it handed down by tradition, we must be careful not to take it too literally. Stories of this kind although founded on fact, always grow by repetition. The central truths illuminated by the Cologne Chronicle seem to be: (1.) The discovery of movable letters was a growth from small beginnings. (2.) The country was Holland and the place probably Haarlem. (3.) Gutenberg derived his ideas of printing from Holland.

Let us now expound the claims of Gutenberg as gathered from undoubted evidence and facts.

John Gutenberg is a real man in history. He was born at Mentz in 1399, and some members of his family are known. Several documents testify to his existence, but the first which by possibility connects him with printing is an action at law brought against him by a man named Dritzehen in 1439 to recover a loan of money. The original text of this document, unfortunately, cannot be verified, having been destroyed at the siege of Strasbourg.

Numerous witnesses gave evidence which showed Gutenberg as practising several arts by which he made money, one of which was a great secret carried on by him in a ruined convent near Strasbourg. Here he was surprised at his work by his creditors, to whom at last he divulged his secret, making partners of them. Some curious particulars of tools and four pieces of wood to form a press are given in the depositions, and apparently refer to experiments connected with printing. The want of capital to carry on his experiments is also very evident. Andrew Dritzehen had helped him for some time, but died before success crowned their efforts. Gutenberg then tried to obtain possession of all the materials which Andrew Dritzehen had left, but his partners stepped in and took them, although they were not sufficiently instructed to make any use of them. This action went against Gutenberg, who, now much impoverished, sold the last remaining portion of his paternal estate. Again and again he had to borrow money, and in 1450 entered into a five-years’ partnership with John Fust, each to have half the profits of the business.

As time rolled on and nothing satisfactory resulted, Fust took advantage of his legal powers, and by a lawsuit to recover his loan compelled Gutenberg, in November, 1455, to give up all the printing plant, which he conveyed away, and with the assistance of Peter Schœffer, who married Fust’s daughter, started a printing-office on his own account. Gutenberg, deprived of all his material and without money, but not disheartened, now found a new friend in Conrad Homery, Syndic of Mentz, with whose help new types and presses were made. Misfortune and debt still pursued him, and had not the materials been the property of Homery, he would have been again deprived of them. In 1460 the book known as the “Catholicon” was printed, and several other small books. The city of Mentz was sacked in 1462 and its trade entirely destroyed. The next we hear of Gutenberg is his appointment in 1465 to be one of the gentlemen of the Court to Adolphus II, in whose service he remained till his death, about 1468. Gutenberg’s types were removed to Eltville, where his relatives, Henry and Nicholas Bechtermunze, printed with them in 1467.

The weak part of Gutenberg’s case is that only in the year 1462 do we first meet with any mention of him as a printer, and that mention not in Germany but in Paris. This interesting reference was discovered by the Librarian of the Basle City Library, who examining a copy of “Gasparini Pergamensis Orthographia” preserved in the Heynlin collection found a unique Prologue from the pen of Heynlin the donor. The book, as is well known, was printed at the Sorbonne Press, Paris, in 1470, and the portion of the Prologue which is of most interest to us reads thus:--

“... I imagine that the friends of literature will receive
great benefit from the Art invented by the new sort of
Printers, who in these our days have (like the warriors from
the Trojan Horse) issued from the womb of Germany and scattered
themselves abroad.

“In this country (France) the story is, that a certain John
Gutenberg, not far from Mayence, was the first inventor of the
printing art, by means of which books are made, not with a
reed as of old, nor with a pen, as in our days, but with metal
letters, and that rapidly, evenly, and elegantly.”

Then after noticing the divine honours bestowed upon Bacchus and Ceres for endowing mankind with the kindly fruits of the earth, he adds:--

“Gutenberg has made a discovery still more fruitful and more
divine for he has discovered a way by which letters may be
engraved and by their means all that can be thought and spoken
is at once reproduced and so passed on to posterity.”

The remainder, though in praise of the new art, adds nothing to this testimony.

Here then we may leave the vexed problem of the Genesis of Printing.

It requires but a slight examination of the early Donatuses, whether Dutch or German, to be convinced that whatever the means adopted to make the types, they were quite dissimilar to those adopted at a later date. We shall probably never know the slow degrees by which the punch, matrix and type-mould were brought to perfection. The old types, apparently 15th century, described later in our chapter on “Leviticus,” prove that in a most essential particular, viz., the regular height of each letter, there was great inferiority. But, although the crude method of casting in the 15th century was undoubtedly perfected by later generations, one thing is certain that the whole dispute concerning the invention of Typography as a development of, though distinct from, Printing, would be settled by a reply to the simple question: Where and by whom were the first movable types cast?

This question has become very involved, and has evoked so much bad feeling, been darkened by so many forgeries on all sides, and has roused such fierce national jealousy, that the necessary labour of sifting the true from the untrue is a thankless and wearisome task.

EXODUS.

“_Their sound is gone out into all lands._”

EXODUS.

In these days of rapid inter-communication every good invention becomes public property in a very short time. Not so in the fifteenth century. Typography did not spread rapidly for many years after its birth. The workmen were probably bound to secrecy, and the Press itself had to create work for itself by educating a public up to the reading point. Indeed, so restricted was the sale of books at first, that in a commercial sense the profits were very poor.

In October, 1462, one printing-house at Mayence was at work, under Fust and Schœffer, who are supposed to have had many workmen in their service. It is not known for certain that Gutenberg, who a little later was printing at Eltville, had at that time a press in the same city: probably he had. Pfister at the same time was printing in Bamberg, and Mentelin and Eggestein at Strasbourg. Besides these we know no other presses then existing, and not much had yet been issued from these four put together. Bernard, indeed, says that several neighbouring towns had established printing-presses, although of this there is really no proof. But the captivity of the young giant was soon to end, for, in the month and year just stated, the famous city of Mayence, which had become the battlefield for two opposing archbishops, was captured by Adolphus of Nassau and given up to pillage. From a nourishing city it became a half-burnt, forsaken ruin, and all who could, deserted it. Schaab gives a fearful account of the devastation and fire which befel this once populous city. Fust and Schœffer’s printing-office was burnt down, masters and workmen were driven away. This Exodus of practical Printers formed an epoch in the history of the Art. Presses were soon established by the fugitives in Cologne, Rome, Augsburg, Nuremberg, and other places. In Cologne, especially, typography took deep root and flourished. Here Ulric Zell, who had learnt the art under Peter Schœffer, established a press, which proved very prolific. It was one of Zell’s workmen who, in 1499, penned the remarkable statement about Germany having taken the first idea of printing from the Donatuses of Holland. Zell’s first dated book bears the year 1466; but as nearly all his books were issued without any date, it is more than probable he began two or three years earlier. His types are bold and easily recognised; they are of three sizes, and all of the same style. A few years later several other printers were at work in the same city, which, by the end of the century, boasted of a considerable number of presses, that of Arnold Therhoernen being the best known.

In 1469 printing found its way to Nuremberg, where Henri Keffer, one of the original Mentz printers, joined in partnership with Jean Sensenschmidt, and published many books. Friedrich Creussner was another Nuremberg printer of whose works many have survived; but the most celebrated was Anton Koburger, one of the greatest and most artistic printers of the fifteenth century, who kept twenty-four presses going in this city, besides branch establishments at Basle and Lyons. In this town, too, was produced, in 1517, a piece of work, the technical peculiarities of which it has puzzled even printers and typefounders to understand. This was the celebrated “Theurdanck,” a beautifully illustrated book printed for the Emperor Maximilian, by Melchior Pfinzig, in which the flourishes and ornamentation rise or fall from one line to another in a manner apparently irreconcilable with types which must be cast in a mould. The typographical curiosities of this book are indeed most interesting, and afford evidence of skill in typefounding, which could only have been developed where Imperial funds were used for the education of both punch-cutters and typefounders. From that time until lately, no such work has issued from any printing-office. In Germany, however, and in America, the modern typefounders have in the last few years shown capabilities of combination in well devised types, which prove that were the “Theurdanck” to be placed in their hands today for reproduction, they could not only equal, but even excel that wonderful effort of the sixteenth century.

Berthold Rot, of Hanau, one of Gutenberg’s workmen, carried the art to Basle, and set up his press before 1468; and six years later there were three printing-houses at work in that city.

A press was established in Augsburg, about 1469, by Gunther Zainer, who came from Strasbourg, and had the credit of being among the first to introduce the Roman character into Germany.

The City of Spire received printing in 1471, and speedily became famous, sending out in her turn several pioneer printers.

* * * * *

In ITALY the first press was erected in the monastery of Subiaco, a few miles from Rome, by two workmen, Sweynheym and Pannartz, whose earliest work bears the date 1465. In 1467 the same printers moved to Rome, where they soon became famous for their editions of the classics, which were published with remarkable speed one after another. Here, of course, the types used were Roman; that shape being as natural to Italy as the Gothic types to other countries. Had the sale of their books been at all commensurate with the rapidity of their production, all would have been well, but at the end of five years the two printers found themselves burdened with heavy stocks of unsold books, and with empty purses, while several rival printers had erected presses in the same city. They appealed to the Pope for assistance, but with what success is unknown. Neither of them battled much longer with the ills of this life, Death claiming both printers in 1477, just as our Caxton was starting in his typographical career.

After Rome, the Printing-press travelled to Venice, where Jean de Spire introduced the new art in 1469. His name, however, was soon overshadowed by the renown of two celebrated typographers, Nicholas Jenson and Christopher Valdarfer, whose beautiful Roman types were much admired. Vendelin of Spire, brother of Jean, also was a famous printer in the same city.

Lucca, Foligno, Milan, and Florence received printing early, but there is no space to add particulars.

* * * * *

Considering the pre-eminent position held by Paris and its celebrated University in the fifteenth century, it is somewhat remarkable that printing did not take root in FRANCE until the year 1471. Printed books from other cities, however, were not uncommon, having been sold there continuously for nine years from the time that Fust brought the first printed Bible to Paris in 1462, and when Schœffer in 1468 sold there an edition of Cicero.

At last Guillaume Fichet, who was Rector of the Sorbonne, and, although by birth a German, was anxious to see some of his own writings printed by the new method, joining with Jean Heynlin, a Swiss, and professor at the same University, sent to Switzerland for workmen to start a printing-office in Paris. Three men, Ulric Gering, Michael Friburger, and Martin Cranz, all of Basle, answered to the call, and after occupying a year in preparation, completed the first book ever printed on French soil, in the precincts of the famous Sorbonne. It was entitled “Gasparini Pergamensis Epistolæ,” a work celebrated for the classical beauty of its style, to which Fichet added an introductory chapter. After an edition of “Sallust” and the “Orationes Bessarionis” came Fichet’s own work, “Rhetoricæ Ficheti.” Of this he appears to have been very proud. He took great pains to have several copies carefully printed on vellum for presents, which were splendidly illuminated, and to each he added a specially printed preface written by himself, and suited to some particular recipient, so that in this respect each copy was unique. These copies were presented to the French King, to the Pope, to Edward IV of England, and a few other distinguished personages, whose names are all detailed in the interesting history of Parisian printing lately issued by M. J. Philippe.

After nearly three years’ work, and when thirty books had been published, half in quarto and half in folio, with an average of seventy-two pages to each, the expense was found too heavy, and in December, 1472, the Sorbonne Press was relinquished.

It is curious to notice with reference to the earliest press of France, that the first Printers there were not Frenchmen, and that they printed their earliest books in Roman type; that the first twelve books printed in France were not in the French tongue; and the very first book issued in the French tongue was not printed in France. The first book, indeed, printed in English, and the first book printed in French, issued from the same press, that of Colard Mansion of Bruges. The English book was “The Recuyell of the Histories of Troye” and the French, “Le Recueil des Histoires de Troye.” Both are undated, but were probably printed in 1474.

The Sorbonne Press having ceased work in 1472, Gering with his associates, started a fresh printing-house on their own account, two of their workmen doing the same. These men, by adapting themselves to the times, and printing, not classics in Roman type for a few scholars, but works popular with all who could read, succeeded well. These books were printed in a picturesque Gothic type made in imitation of the manuscript books to which French readers were accustomed. About 1477 Gering’s associates retired, and he was joined by a printer named Maynyal. To Englishmen this is a fact of some interest, as it was to this same Maynyal that William Caxton applied when he wanted help to print a Sarum Missal in 1484. In this missal Caxton’s trade mark appeared for the first time.

* * * * *

The NETHERLANDS did not receive the new art until 1473; and, as if to make up for lost time, presses were erected at Alost, Utrecht, and Louvain, all in the same year. There is a beautiful statue in the city of Alost to Thierry Martens, who first printed there. In Louvain the well-known typefounder and printer, John Veldener, began work in 1473, and in consequence of the great similarity of his types to those of Caxton he is supposed by some bibliographers to have supplied England with the first printing materials used there. Veldener left Louvain in 1478 to print at Utrecht.

In Brussels the press was erected in a monastery, where “The Brothers of Common Life” printed from 1476 to 1487. The city of Bruges has a special interest for English bibliographers, as it was there that for thirty years William Caxton resided. Here Colard Mansion started a press about 1473, although the earliest date in any of his books is 1475. More particulars of this printer and his connection with the first English press will be given when narrating the story of Caxton’s life. In Gouda, Gerard Leeu, also a friend of William Caxton, began to print in 1477. Antwerp did not see a printing-press until 1482, while Leyden and Ghent waited until 1483. Haarlem itself cannot show a book with a printed date earlier than 1483, but, as shown in the previous chapter, the probability is that printing was practised there much earlier.

In forming opinions upon debatable points in early printed books, much caution is necessary, and the more one studies the earliest specimens the greater becomes the conviction that all dogmatic assertion not founded on positive dates should be avoided. Yet, before leaving the Netherlands, it may be well to draw attention to some points which ought to receive consideration with reference to the source from which the Netherland printers obtained their typographical knowledge. In a book intended for popular reading, technical peculiarities would be tedious; but to anyone practically acquainted with type-printing it is very difficult to believe that the early Netherland books, say the Colard Mansions and the Veldeners, could have been produced by men who had learnt to print from disciples of the Gutenberg School.

The books of Ulric Zell of Cologne show, typographically speaking, ways of working superior to and differing from the books of Caxton and Mansion; and it is against all probability that the Netherland printers, after learning their art in such a school would, upon returning to their own country, have adopted customs and habits of printing belonging to an early and imperfect state of the art, which they could never have seen in the workshops of their instructors. That the early specimens of Dutch printing shown with such wonderful accuracy in Holtrop’s “Monuments Typographiques” could have been true descendants of the Mayence Psalter and Gutenberg Bible, is more difficult to believe than the origination of a Dutch school of typography which was improved by and merged into the German school.

* * * * *

The Exodus of the Press and its journeyings through the principal cities of Europe having been thus recorded, we have now especially to narrate the circumstances in which it took root and flourished in GREAT BRITAIN.

Although some of the older writers throw doubt upon the priority of William Caxton’s press in England, there is now a general consensus of opinion that the claims of Oxford to have had a Press in 1468 cannot be sustained. To state and refute these claims, which are founded entirely on a typographical blunder in the printing of a date, would occupy too much space. It will therefore be better at once to trace the career of the Westminster Press.

William Caxton was not born in 1412, as nearly all his biographers assert, but about ten or twelve years later, as we learn from the records preserved at Mercers’ Hall, Cheapside. His name is there inscribed as having been apprenticed in the year 1438. His birthplace was somewhere in the Weald of Kent, perhaps at a place called Caustons, near Hadlow. His father sent him to school--by no means a usual experience for lads in the fifteenth century--for which in his after-age he was deeply grateful. He was apprenticed at the age of twelve or fourteen to a wealthy mercer, a fact which, at a time when class prejudices were very strong, shows that his family were connected with the merchant princes of London. After a few years his master, Robert Large, died, and as Caxton’s name, when he issued from his apprenticeship, does not appear in the Mercers’ books, there is little doubt that he went abroad. In 1446 we find his name mentioned in the town records preserved at Bruges, where he was considered sufficient security for a sum equal to £110. In 1453 he paid a visit to London, and took up his livery in the Mercers’ Company. Ten years later he had raised himself to the highest honour an English merchant could attain abroad--that of Governor of the Merchant Adventurers in the Low Countries. Here he had great responsibilities, and was consulted and employed by the English Government in various matters connected with trade in those parts. In 1468 the Princess Margaret, sister of our Edward IV, was married to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, at Bruges. Here Caxton would be brought into friendly intercourse with the nobles of the English Court, many of whom took refuge there when King Edward, in 1470, was driven from his kingdom. Several treaties about trade between England and the Burgundian dominions were ratified about this time, in which Caxton took a leading part. In Bruges at this period there were magnificent libraries, consisting almost entirely of illuminated manuscripts; and no doubt a few books from the German presses, which we know were selling at Paris, were to be had at Bruges also. In these literary treasure-houses Caxton would be able to indulge that taste for books which was a prominent feature in his character. He became known to the Duchess, and from some cause which at present has not been discovered, resigned his post of Governor, and entered into her service. Whatever were the duties he undertook for the Duchess, his position was one of honour and trust, requiring his personal attendance upon her. Two causes may have influenced Caxton in retiring from his post of Governor. Reckoning from a lawsuit in which his married daughter was engaged in 1496, she would then have been twenty-six years of age, had her father married in 1469. As a married man he could not be a merchant in a foreign city, foreigners abroad as well as in England living a monastic life. Thus marriage may have been the moving cause. Added to this, the duties of Governor compelled him to make frequent journeys to other cities, and the occupation of so arduous a post for many years would naturally make him wish for relief and quietude.

Whatever the cause, his retirement gave him leisure to indulge his literary tastes, and he set to work to translate into English a French novel, which was then (1469) much admired in the Burgundian Court. It was a medley of Roman mythology mixed with Gothic knight-errantry and love adventures. Its title was “The Recuyell (collection) of the Histories of Troy,” and the fact that it held its place in the popular esteem for at least two centuries later, shows us that it stood high in public opinion. After translating a few sheets, Caxton put it on one side, but “on a time,” when conversing with the Duchess, he showed his attempt to her. This was in 1469. She commanded him at once to finish the translation, which he appears to have taken two years to accomplish, continuing it, as he himself tells us, in Ghent, and finishing it at Cologne. And here it is important to notice that in both those cities there is no question of his learning printing. All he mentions about himself refers to the translation alone. This brings us to 1472-3. The new book, patronised by the Duchess and the Court, was soon in greater demand among the courtiers than Caxton could possibly supply by manuscript. He was tired of so much writing, and naturally his mind turned to the new Art of Printing, specimens of which he had probably examined. Just at this time Colard Mansion, a citizen of Bruges, had erected a printing-press in a large room over the church porch of St. Donatus, and to him went Caxton. Colard Mansion set to work, Caxton helping him with money, and learning at the same time the new art and mystery. So it was that about 1474-5 the book was completed and a copy presented to the Duchess.

This was the turning point in Caxton’s career; for although he did not immediately leave his Royal mistress’s service, he spent some time in mastering the new art, and then, with a quantity of newly-cast types, made his way to England. There seems to have been no special reason why Caxton should choose Westminster as the locality of his printing-office. There was no Scriptorium in the Abbey, and the Abbot does not seem to have held towards him any other relationship than that of landlord, leasing to him a tenement in the Almonry, just where the Guards’ Memorial now stands. Here Caxton settled down and worked for at least fifteen years. His first book which bears a date is “The Dictes and Sayinges of the Philosophers,” finished in November, 1477. Upon the strength of this date the Caxton Quarcentenary Festival was held in 1877; but there can be no doubt that he printed many books of which no copies remain, some of which were doubtless earlier than the “Dictes.”

Unlike some of the French and Italian printers who ruined themselves by printing classical books, Caxton began with small pamphlets, and short pieces of poetry by Lydgate and Chaucer. These were soon followed by books of greater pretence, historical, poetical, and religious. The most imposing book from Caxton’s press was “The Golden Legend,” a thick and large folio volume, full of rude woodcuts, and narrating the lives of all the Saints in the English calendar. In translating, editing, and printing, Caxton spent the remaining years of his life, and at a ripe old age was buried in St. Margaret’s, Westminster, in the year 1491.

His character was that of a pious, diligent, and educated man, who, without aiming very high, led the life of an honest and useful merchant. He never foresaw, any more than his contemporaries, the wonderful capabilities and future strength of that printing-press which was to bring so many blessings to his native country. His successor was Wynken de Worde, one of the founders of the Stationers’ Company, a workman who, while quite young, came over with Caxton, and was a prolific printer for years after his master’s death. The well-known printers, Pynson and Machlinia, had also worked under Caxton.

The city of Oxford was the next after Westminster in which the printing-press was erected in England. The first book printed there, the “Exposicio sancti Hieronymi,” is, indeed, dated 1468, but it is not worth while producing the reasons which have led all modern bibliographers to agree that an “x” has been omitted in the date, and that the real year was 1478. Rood and Hunte, who were the first Oxford printers, were Germans, and their books are very different from those of the Bruges and Westminster presses.

Cambridge, the sister University, had no press until 1521, when John Siberch printed there.

The only other press in England to be noticed in the fifteenth century is that of St. Albans, where a schoolmaster turned typographer in 1480, and printed for a few years. His most noted work was “The Boke of Hawking and Huntyng, and Cote armor.”

Considering the close connection of Scotland with France, it is rather surprising that printing did not reach that country earlier than 1504. In that year Androw Millar began to print some ballads.

Ireland did not receive printing until the year 1551, when Humphrey Powell printed a prayer book.

* * * * *

In the New World the first City to receive a Printing-press was Mexico, where Cromberger worked in 1540. In the North, Stephen Daye erected a Press at Cambridge, Mass., in 1638.

* * * * *

The Latin names of towns are frequently seen on the title-pages of early books; and as these are extremely puzzling to young bibliographers, the following short list of those most likely to be met with may be found useful:--

Alta Villa Eltville
Amstelædamum Amsterdam
Antverpia Antwerp
Argentina } Strasbourg
Argentoratum }
Athenæ Rauracæ Basle
Augusta Vindelicorum Augsburg
Bononia Bologna
Brixia Breschia
Bruxellæ Brussels
Cantabrigia Cambridge
Colonia Agrippina Cologne
Daventria Deventer
Delphi Delft
Duacum Douay
Eblana Dublin
Erfordia Erfuhrt
Florentia } Florence
Firenze }
Francofurtum Frankfort
Gandavum } Ghent
Gand }
Hafnia Copenhagen
Haga Comitum The Hague
Hispalis Seville
Holmia Stockholm
Leida Leyden
Lipsia Leipzig
Lovanium Louvain
Lugdunum Lyons
Lugdunum Batavorum Leyden
Lutetia Paris
Mediolanum Milan
Moguntia Mayence
Moscua Moscow
Nannetes Nantes
Neapolis Naples
Norimberga Nuremberg
Oxonia Oxford
Patavium Padua
Rostochium Rostock
Roterodamum Rotterdam
Rothomagum Rouen
Sublacense Monasterium Subiaco
Taurinum Turin
Toletum Toledo
Trajectum ad Rhenum Utrecht
Treviri Treves
Tridentum Trent
Turones Tours
Venetiæ Venice
Vlma Ulm
Vlyssipo Lisbon
Vratislavia Breslau

The cities and towns the names of which are the same, or nearly the same, in the Latin and native spelling have been omitted purposely.

LEVITICUS.

“_Here order in variety we see,
And here, though all things differ, all agree._”--

POPE.

LEVITICUS.

The Laws of Printing, that is, the rules by which artisans in the various branches of this Art do their work, are the theme of this chapter.

In the first place, the laws by which the _Typefounder_ is governed in making good and true types, are explained. Then, the laws by knowledge of which the _Compositor_ combines those types ready for printing. And lastly, the rules by which the _Pressman_ is guided in obtaining impressions from the types.

From the extensive scope of this chapter it will be seen at once that it is only possible to describe the bare principles of each section, without attempting explanatory details.

THE TYPEFOUNDER.

Of the processes by which the first printers made their types very little is known. In none of the early colophons* is any allusion made to them; we are therefore confined to the internal evidence of manufacture discoverable in the types themselves.

* Bibliographers call the final sentence, which in many old
books contains the printer’s name, place, and date, the
“colophon.” It answered to the modern imprint, but was more
full, and frequently contained important information.

The page of any early book shows a number of lines of type, all of them running from left to right beneath each other in straight lines.

It will be seen from the following diagram that each stamp stands on its own particular piece of metal, and the fact here to be noted is the exact regularity of _all_ the letters: for although a capital “E” seems to the eye much taller than a small letter “a,” it will be at once seen by looking at the illustration, that in one direction, viz., from top to bottom, these and all the other letters are identical as to size. Each of the divisions here marked shows the size of the shank upon which every separate letter is cast, measuring this way |, and that measurement, which by printers is called the “body,” must be identical for each and every letter, or else unevenness would be the result.

In the following specimen, a single letter in each line is made slightly larger in body than its fellows, the uneven effect being very apparent.

To obtain exact regularity was the great difficulty of the early printers. Letters of wood soon became unmanageable from warping or shrinkage, being affected even by change of weather. No doubt the experiment was made of cutting a quantity of letters upon metal shanks, suited to their width.

Concerning the Mayence Psalter of 1454, the first printed book with a plain date, we find opinions, even of experts, very various and contradictory. Some writers, devoid of practical knowledge, declare all the letters to be separately cut in wood; others, whose opinions deserve respect, imagine the types to have been (as already suggested) cut separately, each on a cube of metal. Others, again, while admitting that these early types were cast in metal, consider that the original punches, or models, may have been cut in wood, and that matrices were produced by dabbing these into metal while in a semi-congealed state.

No writers in the infancy of printing deign to notice typefounding, although in 1508 we meet with the representation of a typefounder at work, which, however, is far too rude to teach us anything. Whichever way we turn, perplexity accompanies us, and the wisest course, perhaps, is to acknowledge that in reality we know very little about the methods of the _first_ typefounders.

By careful examination of the types themselves, however, a few facts are ascertained, which, without revealing method, are full of significance. For instance, Colard Mansion, of Bruges, began to print with a fine, bold letter, called “bâtarde,” shaped like that known in England as “German text.” But when his first fount was worn he made another, every letter of which is slightly thinner in face than that used in the first printing, owing evidently to the fact that a single type of each sort had been chosen out, and, after being trimmed carefully by a graving tool, had been used as a punch to form a matrix of some sort for the second fount. The same thing exactly appears in the second casting of Caxton’s No. 2 Type; and here, in many instances, the matrix has actually reproduced some slight slips made by the graver in trimming his pattern letters. These facts are interesting, and as yet indications of no similar process have been observed among the German printers. But we are as far off as ever from the knowledge of how the types were cast. From what has been said it is evident that the early printers had some method of casting types from a mould which was adjustable as to width; so that while the same mould would cast a letter as thick as an “M,” or as thin as an “i,” it would make the “body” of each letter identical. This is the whole secret of typefounding; that this result was obtained we know, but how, we know not.

While in all probability we shall never know for certain the processes used to produce the earliest types, we have nevertheless some few data from which we may learn something. Mr. Madden in 1875 gave a fac-simile of a curious accident which he had noticed in a book printed by Conrad Hamborch, at Cologne, in 1476. A single letter had by some means been left lying sideways on the face of a page of type, and when the sheet of paper was pulled, an extensive “batter” took place by the truant letter being squeezed into the face of the type, the whole shape of the shank showing very accurately in the impression. Curiously enough, an identical occurrence was noticed about the same time by Mr. Bradshaw, in another early printed German book of about the same date. Again, M. Claudin of Paris possesses a number of actual 15th century types, which were found during a very dry summer in the bed of the Saône, opposite to where an old Printing-office is known to have existed.

We give fac-simile representations of these three instances, and from them draw several conclusions.

(From _Reed’s “Old English Letter Foundries.”_)]

(From _Reed’s “Old English Letter Foundries.”_)]

1. We see that there was no standard height for the types. In the types of M. Claudin hardly any two agree, nor do the types of the two German books. It would be a necessity that the types of one fount should all be of one height, and if no other founts were used for the work there would be no difficulty. This indeed seems the reason why, in the earliest books, we find little or no mixture of types.

2. We see that none of the types have any _feet_, and that therefore the “mould” as invented shortly after was then unknown. The great improvement by which, in a sliding mould, every letter must be of the same height has often been attributed to Schœffer--an improvement of which he now appears to have been utterly ignorant. Unless every separate letter is made exactly the same height, the result would be that some would be battered because they stood too high, while others would not print at all, because they stood too low. To obtain an even measure for all, the mould was made to give the height in a very ingenious manner. The diagram shows a type as it appears when thrown from the mould. _a_ is the top containing the letter which prints in relief; _b b_ are the “feet” of the type, and _c_ is the superfluous metal. Now when the piece _c_ is broken off, it will leave _b b_ untouched; these are the feet upon which the perfect type will stand.

To look at a type it does not at first strike one as so very difficult to make, and yet a good punch-cutter must be a born artist, and a good mould-maker a model of skilfulness. Without attempting to describe the modern improvements in casting type by machinery, whereby the molten lead is pumped up into the moulds, and types ready for use come streaming out by thousands, we will try to explain the method used in 1689 by Moxon, who was the first English writer to describe the process with any exactitude. The same methods have been in all probability used by Caxton’s successors in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, and are still resorted to now when any letters have to be cast by hand.

The four principal requisites in a type foundry are: 1. The Punch. 2. The Matrix. 3. The Mould. 4. Good Type-metal.

1. The Punch. The punch-cutter, with the help of several tools, engraves each letter upon the end of a short piece of steel. Upon the beauty, congruity, and accuracy of this operation depends the success of the type. The art of engraving, reverse-way, a series of punches, all varying in shape, and yet all agreeing in the thickness and curves of the various down and up strokes--called by the Dutch “fats” and “leans”--is very difficult, and when successfully accomplished, the engraver may truly lay claim to that greatly misused word “artist.” If in the humour, he can cut two single or one double letter per diem.

2. The Matrix. The steel punch being engraved and hardened, it is held face downwards upon a small cube of copper, and then with a steady, an even, and a strong blow from a mallet, the punch is driven some distance into the softer metal, leaving a sunken impression. This, after due trimming and adjusting--called “justifying,”--is a matrix ready for use in the mould.

3. The Mould is a complicated instrument made in two distinct halves, which fit accurately, or rather lock into each other, leaving an opening between, into which the melted type-metal is poured. The matrix which only gives the “face” to a type, is kept close to the bottom of this cavity in the mould by a spring. The mould, which is imbedded in wood to prevent the heat reaching the workman’s hand, is held in the left hand. A small ladleful of melted metal is then poured in, the workman at the same time giving his hand a jerk upwards, a movement which drives the metal into the finest parts of the matrix. The workman then slides the mould open, and the type falls out, only requiring the superfluous metal to be broken off, and the burr on the edges rubbed down, to become fit for use. About 5,000 types can be cast in this manner per day by a skilful workman.

4. The Metal of which type is made consists of Lead, Tin, and Antimony, in various proportions. The alloy, however, varies considerably in different foundries. We will only mention in conclusion that the Antimony is used not so much for the hardness it imparts to the alloy, as for the anomaly, which belongs also to freezing water, that it expands in the act of solidifying.

THE COMPOSITOR.

The work of a Compositor in the fifteenth century did not differ in any essential particular from that performed at present. He received the types from the founder, placed each sort in its own assigned place in the “case,” ready for use, and within easy reach. The “case” was an arrangement of small wooden boxes placed on the slant for convenience of reaching, each box being appropriated to its own letter. Standing in front of the case, the compositor held in his left hand a wooden “composing stick,” in which a rectangular trench had been cut to receive the letters. Reading and keeping in his mind a few words of his manuscript, he picked up the types letter by letter and placed them side by side until first words, and then sentences, were composed. When the end of a line was reached, and there was no room for more words and yet some space left, the compositor by placing a little extra space between the words made the line fill out the stick. This was called “justifying” the line. Each line was lifted out of the stick and placed on a wooden board; thus line after line was added until there were enough for a page.

When two or four pages were ready, they were placed upon a flat surface within an iron frame called a “chase,” the proper distance between each page being regulated by small blocks of wood suited to the size of the paper on which they were to be printed. The pages being properly arranged, were all bound together tightly by means of screws, or by small wedges of wood called “quoins.” When all was secure, the whole, now styled a “form,” was lifted up in one piece, and taken to the press, where a first proof was pulled for the “Reader.” The necessary corrections having been made by the Compositor, the “form” was ready for the Pressman.

THE PRESSMAN.

The first printers had but small presses made entirely of wood. Their power was also slight, and they printed, as a rule, but one page at a time. The screw was of wood, and worked by a “bar,” much the same as a modern napkin press. The chief thing was to obtain an even surface on the “bed” upon which the page of type rested; and, secondly, an even surface for the “platen,” which was lowered as the “bar” turned the “screw,” and thus pressed the paper upon the face of the type. The evenness of impression, as well as of colour, in many old books, shows that this object was accomplished with great success, and proves what good mechanicians they were four hundred years ago. It is a task which we could not now accomplish so successfully were our modern tools and appliances withdrawn.

The ink was doubtless a sore trial to the early fathers of the press. It was only by long experience upon block-books and wood engravings that the working together of boiled oil and lampblack was found to give that consistency which would be stiff enough not to spue over the sides of the letters when pressed, and yet not so thin as to run away into unevenness of surface or want of colour.