After experience in printing small wood blocks, the production

of larger ones, such as are seen in the Block-books was an easy

progression. Most of these were representations of Bible History, and

a considerable variety of opinion is still held concerning their use.

They were called “Biblia Pauperum,” and have therefore been supposed

to be books for _poor people_. This idea is evidently erroneous if we

think for a moment how uncommon in those days was the ability to read,

particularly among the great mass of the people. It is more probable

that these pictorial sermons were used by the _poor friars_, many

of whom could scarcely read, and in preaching trusted to memory and

imagination. To such, the numerous suggestions of these pictures would

be invaluable.

[Illustration: FROM THE BIBLIA PAUPERUM. BLOCK-BOOK. 15TH CENTURY.]

In the later Block-books, engraved sentences and even half-pages of

explanation are seen. The dislike of wood engravers to cut letters is

the same now as it was four centuries and a-half ago, the mechanical

nature of such work being distasteful to any one with artistic feeling.

The idea, therefore, of using a second time sentences, already engraved

and printed, simply by cutting them away from the old block, was very

natural and would easily lead to the attempt to utilise the letters

separately. Thus we float along the stream of gradual development,

until we reach movable types, properly termed Typography. This was

never an invention pure and simple which suddenly enlightened the

mind of Gutenberg (as stated by Van der Linde, and echoed by Theo. De

Vinne), but an end successfully accomplished, after numerous efforts

and gradual advances.*

* The reader who has any real interest in these “firstlings” of

the Printing-press should carefully examine the glass cases in

the Grenville Library at the British Museum, where specimens of

Block Printing, from the earliest to the latest, are displayed

in chronological order.

The full meaning of the discovery of typography will be better

understood if we call to mind the intellectual state of Europe in the

middle of the fifteenth century.

[Illustration: SCRIPTORIUM MONK AT WORK. (From _Lacroix_.)]

[Illustration: BOOKBINDER.--16TH CENTURY.]

With the eclipse of literature during the Middle Ages, the Church

alone, and that in a sluggish manner, kept up the manufacture of

manuscript books, principally for ecclesiastical use. But when,

in the fourteenth century, the brain of Europe began to show

unwonted activity--when the Lollard doctrines set men thinking and

doubting--when in the fifteenth century all Europe became excited over

the discovery of new worlds--when military tactics were revolutionised

through the invention of gunpowder--when education became general, and

colleges and schools were multiplied--then the minds of men everywhere

began to long for books, more books; for Cicero and Boethius, for

Bibles, Psalters and Legends, for Chronicles, Tales of Travel and

Romances, for Donatuses, School books and Absies--at such a time the

need was urgent, the demand imperative, and the Printing-press came.

The change, however, was by no means sudden. The first effect of the

increased demand was to create a great division of labour in the

manufacture of Manuscripts, so that whereas two or three Scribes had,

in former times, been sufficient to complete a Manuscript, as many

as fifteen different trades were now employed in Paris, Bruges and

other centres to produce a single book. Long before the invention

of typography, the book-makers of Holland had their Guilds, which

included a variety of the trades concerned in the production, viz.:

parchment-makers, boss-makers, binders, etc. Amongst them we now and

then find enumerated “prenters,” that is, the printers from engraved

blocks, who had already discovered the use of the press and a thick

ink. The most numerous craft, however, was that of the Scribes, who

wrote only the running text; and in this portion of the work it was,

where speed and accuracy were most wanted, that the Printing-press was

destined to make its earliest triumphs.

[Illustration: COVER OF A BOOK. 15TH CENTURY.]

The foundation of many colleges and schools in the fifteenth century

led to an extensive demand for school books and grammars, the most

popular of which were the “Donatus,” a grammar so called from the name

of its author, and “Catho,” a kind of delectus in Latin. These were

sold at a cheap price, and, to lessen the cost of their production,

were often engraved on blocks of wood, from which the pages were

printed. These and the Block-books already described were contemporary,

and the immediate forerunners of separate types.

Think of the numerous editions of the Eton and Valpy Latin Grammar,

which, two generations ago, were used throughout the kingdom, and you

may well wonder how it is that there is extreme difficulty in getting a

single copy now. They have nearly all perished. It is the same with the

school books of all ages; and we can, therefore, hardly wonder that the

fifteenth century school books, manuscript, or printed from engraved

blocks, are now amongst the most scarce of bibliographical rarities.

[Illustration: FRAGMENT OF A XYLOGRAPHIC DONATUS.

(From _Holtrop_.)]

The process of cutting letters and sentences on wood is much more

trying work than engraving figures; the Block-books generally show some

approach to artistic feeling in the pose and drapery of the figures,

but the engraver was very careless over the letters. Doubtless the

tedium of the operation would suggest the idea of separating the

letters, so as to use them again in a different combination for other

sentences. We have indeed direct evidence of such attempts having

been made; for (as noticed by Mr. Bradshaw in his “Memoranda No. 3,”

pp. 5 and 6) a Block-book edition of the “Biblia Pauperum,” printed

at Zwolle, was cut up, and the pieces used afterwards in a different

combination. The same operation took place with the blocks of the

“Speculum nostræ Salvationis,” which were cut up, and the pieces

used again for an edition printed at Utrecht in 1481. This could not

be successfully accomplished with separate letters, on account of

their small size, but the attempt would be most natural. There is no

known instance of separate wooden types having been used by any early

printers, but in certain editions of the “Speculum” we distinctly find

metal movable types, with the woodcuts printed in one coloured ink, and

the text in another. The types bear plain evidence that they were cast,

but in an extremely rude way, showing a much more imperfect method of

casting than appears in the German Indulgence of 1454 (which is the

earliest known date of any printed piece), or the first books of the

Mayence printers. There are also numerous fragments of the Donatus, of

the Doctrinale, and of Catho, in various editions, and in cast types.

The language of some, as well as the shape of the letters in all, show

that these were, without doubt, produced in the Low Countries, although

they are all, as was natural for such unimportant books, without any

printer’s name and without the year of production, thus rendering it

difficult to assign to them an unimpeachable date.

[Illustration: “IMAGE OF PITY.” (WOOD BLOCK AND TYPE.)]

After much study I cannot help thinking that Holland was not only the

birthplace of these Donatuses, etc., but that they gave the starting

idea to the Mayence school of printers. The notice of the invention

of Printing written at Cologne from the mouth of the earliest printer

in that city, one who had learnt his art from the first printers at

Mayence, seems decisive. The Chronicler, who wrote in 1499, states that

Ulric Zell told him as follows:--

(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.

[Illustration: STATUE OF COSTER. (From _Zeiz_.)]

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.”

[Illustration: COSTER COMMEMORATION MEDAL, 1856. (_From a Medal in the

Author’s Collection._)]

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.

[Illustration]

EXODUS.

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

[Illustration]

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.

The Pentateuch of printing · 第 2 / 7 段