sent him to the house of Claus Dritzehen, after the death of Andrew,
his brother, with this message—that he should not show to any person
the press in his care. Witness did so. Gutenberg had instructed him
minutely, and told him that Claus should go to the press and should
_turn two buttons, so that the pieces would be detached one from the
other_; that these pieces should be afterward placed in the press or
on the press; that when this had been done, _no one could comprehend
its purpose_. Gutenberg also requested Claus Dritzehen, if he should
leave his house, that he should at once repair to his house [John
Gutenberg’s], who had [p386] some things to tell to him in person.
This witness remembers perfectly that John Gutenberg was not indebted
to the late Andrew, but that, on the contrary, Andrew was indebted to
John Gutenberg. Witness also testified that he had never been present
at any of their meetings since Christmas last. Witness had often seen
Andrew Dritzehen dining at the house of John Gutenberg, but he had
never seen him give to Gutenberg as much as a stiver.
The bold manner in which Beildick denied the payment of money by Andrew
Dritzehen, seems to have greatly exasperated George Dritzehen, who
threatened him with a prosecution for false evidence, or perjury. There
was a scene in the court. George Dritzehen cried out, sarcastically,
“Witness, tell the truth, even if it takes us both to the gallows.”
Beildick complained to the judge of this intimidation, but it does not
appear that the affair had further consequences.
Reimboldt, of Ehenheim, testified that he was at the house of Andrew
before Christmas, and asked him _what he intended to do with the nice
things with which he was busy_. Andrew told him that _they had already
cost him more than 500 guilders_, but that he hoped, when the work
was perfected, to make a great deal of money, with which he would pay
witness, and would also receive a proper reward for his labor. Witness
lent him 8 guilders, for he was then very needy. Witness’s wife had
also lent money to Andrew. Andrew once came to her with a ring, which
he valued at 30 guilders, and which he had pawned to the Jews at
Ehenheim for 5 guilders. Witness further said that he knew very well
that Dritzehen had prepared two large barrels of sweet wine, of which
he gave one-half omen to Gutenberg, and one-half omen to Mydehart.
He had also given Gutenberg some pears. On a certain occasion Andrew
had requested witness to buy for him two half-barrels of wine, and
Dritzehen and Heilmann, jointly, had given one of these half-barrels
to Gutenberg.
That the work on which Dritzehen was engaged was of a novel nature may
be inferred from the fact that his visitors could not give names to his
tools or his workmanship. They speak of _it_, _that thing_, _the nice
things_, _the form of four pieces_, etc. Madame Zabern is surprised
at the cost of that thing; Reimboldt wonders what he intends to do
with these nice things. It is obvious that this mysterious work is not
that of polishing stones or gems, nor the making of mirrors, for it
cannot be supposed that these witnesses, and one of them a woman, would
be ignorant of the purpose of a mirror, or would grossly underrate
the value of gems, or polished stones. But there is one witness who
testifies that Dritzehen said his enterprise was that of making
mirrors. [p387]
Hans Niger von Bischoviszheim testified that Andrew Dritzehen came to
him and told him that he was in great need of money, for he was deep
in an enterprise which taxed his resources to the utmost. Witness
asked him what he was doing. Dritzehen then informed him that _he was
making mirrors_. When witness threshed his grain, he took it to market
at Molsheim and Ehenheim, and sold it, and gave Dritzehen the money.
This witness also corroborated the testimony of Reimboldt as to the
giving of wine to John Gutenberg. He took the wine in his own cart to
Gutenberg, who was then at Saint Arbogastus.
It may be inferred from this testimony that Dritzehen was still
deriving some profit from the old work of making mirrors.
Fritz von Seckingen testified that Gutenberg had borrowed money of
him, and that Anthony Heilmann was on his bond. Andrew Dritzehen, who
should have done so, evaded this obligation, and never signed the bond
at all. Gutenberg paid up the entire sum at the time of the last fair
during Mid-Lent.
Gutenberg’s partner gives some curious details about the partnership,
and intimates that the _forms_ were of metal.
Anthony Heilmann testified that, when he learned that Gutenberg wished
to take Andrew Dritzehen as a third [partner] in the company formed
for the sale of mirrors at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, _he begged
him with importunity to take also his brother Andrew_, if he wished
to do a great favor to him, Anthony. But Gutenberg told him that he
feared that the friends of Andrew would pretend that this business
[or secret] was that of sorcery, an imputation he wished to avoid.
Heilmann persisted in his request, and finally obtained a document,
which he was obliged to show to the two future partners, and about
which they found it necessary to have a consultation. Gutenberg took
the document to them, and they decided that they would comply with its
terms, and in this way the affair [of partnership] was settled. In
the midst of these negotiations, Andrew Dritzehen begged this witness
[Anthony Heilmann] to lend him some money, and he then said that he
would willingly oblige him, if he would give good security. And he
lent Dritzehen 90 pounds, which Dritzehen took to Gutenberg, at Saint
Arbogastus. . . . . The witness asked him, “What do you wish to do
with so much money? You do not need more than 80 guilders.” Dritzehen
replied that he had need for more money; that it was but two or three
days before the [vigil of] Annunciation (March 25), on which day he
was bound to give 80 guilders to Gutenberg. [Here follows an elaborate
explanation of the financial standing and the rights of each partner.]
After that, Gutenberg said to this witness that it was necessary that
he should draw his attention to an essential point [in the agreement],
which was, that all the partners were on a footing of equality, and
that there should be a mutual understanding that each should conceal
nothing from the others; and that this arrangement would be for the
common benefit. The witness was content with this proposition, and
communicated it with praises to the other two. Some time after this,
Gutenberg repeated his words, and the witness responded with the same
protestations as before, and said that he intended to be worthy of the
trust. After this, Gutenberg drew up an agreement as the expression
of this proposition, and said to this witness: “Consult well among
yourselves, and see that you are agreed on this matter.” They did so
consult, and they discussed for a long time on this point, and even
sought the advice of Gutenberg, who, on one occasion, said: “_There
are here now_ [p388] _many things ready for use, and there are many
more in progress; the goods you acquire are almost equal to your
investment in money. In addition to all this, you get the knowledge
of the secret art_.” So they soon came to an agreement, and it was
decided that the heirs of the deceased partner should have for that
partner’s investment, for the _forms_, and for all the materials, 100
guilders; but they should have it only after the five years. Gutenberg
said that this provision would be of great advantage to them, for,
if he chanced to die, he would abandon to them everything to which
he was entitled, as his share of the property; and yet they would be
obliged to give to his heirs only the 100 guilders, as they proposed
to do with each other. It was also decided that in case of the death
of any one of the partners, the others should not in any wise be
obliged to teach, to show, or to reveal the secret to his heirs. It
was a provision as favorable to one as to another. . . . This witness
also testified that Gutenberg, a little while before Christmas, sent
his servant to the two Andrews, to fetch _all the forms_. These forms
_were melted_ before his eyes, which he regretted on account of
_several forms_. When Andrew Dritzehen died, there were people who
would have willingly examined the _press_. He told Gutenberg to send
and prevent it from being examined. Gutenberg, in effect, did send his
servant to put _it_ in disorder, and to tell the witness that, when he
had the time, he wished to talk with him.
The testimony of the last witness is the shortest, and it is remarkable
as the only testimony which defines the work.
Hans Dünne, the goldsmith, testified to this effect: within the
past two or three years he had received from John Gutenberg about
100 guilders, which sum had been paid to him exclusively _for work
connected with printing_.
The testimony of eighteen other witnesses was taken,[233] but,
according to Schoepflin, Dünne’s is the last testimony on the official
record. The judge gave the following decision:
We, master and counselor, after having heard the complaint and answer
of the parties, the depositions and the testimony . . . and after
having examined the contract and the agreement. . . Considering that
there is a contract which fully establishes the manner in which these
arrangements were projected and carried out: We do command that
Hans Riffe, Andrew Heilmann and Hans Gutenberg shall make an oath
before God that the matters that have transpired are warranted by
the contract that has been cited; and that this contract had but one
supplementary agreement, under seal, which would have been [p389]
agreed to by Andrew Dritzehen if now living; and that Hans Gutenberg
shall also take oath that the 85 guilders have not been paid to him
by Andrew Dritzehen; and from this time this amount of 85 guilders
shall be deducted from the sum of 100 guilders, about which there has
been controversy; and he [Gutenberg] shall pay to George and Claus
Dritzehen 15 guilders; and, in this manner, the 100 guilders will be
paid in conformity to the contract that has been cited.
The oath, according to this form, has been taken before us by Hans
Riffe, Andrew Heilmann and Hans Gutenberg, with this qualification on
the part of Hans Riffe, that he was not present at the first meeting
[of the partners]; but that, as soon as he did meet with them, he had
approved of their action or agreement.
The taking of this oath, and the payment of the fifteen guilders by
John Gutenberg, terminated the suit in his favor.
The record is enough to give us a clear idea of the character and
position, if not of the process, of John Gutenberg. At this time,
December, 1439, and for some time previous, Gutenberg was neither in
poverty nor in obscurity. He had already acquired a local reputation
for scientific knowledge. He did not seek for partners or pupils;
they came to him. Among the number we find Hans Riffe, the mayor
of Lichtenau, whose confidence in Gutenberg, after three years of
partnership, is implied in his testimony. Anthony Heilmann, the lender
of money, seems to have been equally satisfied with his brother
partner. The action of the judge, in accepting Gutenberg’s oath as
conclusive, proves that he was a man of established character. The
deference paid to him by all the witnesses shows that he was not
merely a mechanic or an inventor, but a man of activity and energy, a
born leader, with a presence and a power of persuasion that enabled
him to secure ready assistance in the execution of his plans. His
reputation had been made by success. George Dritzehen said that his
brother had received a good profit from his connection with Gutenberg.
The eagerness and the faith of Andrew, the pertinacity with which
his brothers pressed their claim to be admitted as partners, the
solicitation of Heilmann on behalf of his brother, are indications that
the men were sanguine as [p390] to the success of Gutenberg’s new
invention. The expected profit was attractive, but it was not the only
advantage.
In that century it was not an easy matter to learn an art or a trade
of value: no one could enter the ranks of mechanics even as a pupil,
without the payment of a premium in money; no one could practise any
trade unless he had served a long period of apprenticeship. These
exactions hopelessly shut out many who wished to learn; but men who
had complied with all the conditions were often unwilling to teach,
or to allow others to practise. Many trades were monopolies. In
some cases they were protected by legislative enactments, like that
accorded to the Venetian makers of playing cards. So far as it could
be done, every detail of mechanics was kept secret, as may be inferred
from the old phrase “art and mystery,” still retained in indentures
of apprenticeship in all countries. One of the consequences of this
exclusiveness was that many mechanical arts were invested with unusual
dignity.[234] The sharply defined line which, in our day, separates art
from trade and mechanics did not then exist.
The testimony shows that Gutenberg had a knowledge of three distinct
arts. The one earliest practised, from which Dritzehen derived a good
profit, was the polishing of stones or gems. The second, was that of
making mirrors. Gutenberg was not the inventor of this art, but he was
one of the [p391] first to practise it.[235] The early German mirrors
were small, but they had broad frames, and were richly gilt and adorned
with carved or moulded work in high relief. Ottley thinks that the
press was used for pressing mouldings for the frames of mirrors, and
that the lead was used for the metallic face.
The third art is imperfectly described. If Dünne’s testimony had been
lost, it would not appear that this art was printing, for there is
no mention of books, paper, ink, types, or wood-cuts. The lead, the
press, and the goldsmith’s work on things relating to printing, could
be regarded as materials required in the art of mirror-making. But “the
thing,” and “the nice things,” which provoked exclamations of surprise
at their great cost, could not have been looking-glasses.
Dünne said, very plainly, that this art was printing; but Dünne’s
testimony could be set aside, and Gutenberg’s connection with
typography at the period of this trial could be inferred from other
evidence. The thoroughness of the workmanship in the books printed by
Gutenberg after 1450 is a thoroughness which could have been acquired
only by practice. Before he began this practice he must have devoted
much time to experiment and to the making of the tools he needed. No
inventor, no printer can believe that the skill [p392] he subsequently
showed as a printer could have been attained by the labor of a few
months or years. If it is also considered that Gutenberg was poor, and
that he collected the money he needed with great delay and difficulty,
the doubt may assume the form of denial. It is a marvel that he was so
well prepared at the end of the ten years which Zell says were given up
to investigation.
It would be gratifying to know the form in which the idea of typography
first presented itself to Gutenberg; but there is in this case, no
story like that of Franklin and the kite, or of Newton and the apple.
Zell, in the _Cologne Chronicle_, says that the first prefiguration of
Gutenberg’s method was found in the _Donatuses_ published in Holland
before 1440. That the xylographic _Donatus_, the only block-book
without cuts, was the forerunner of all typographic books, may not be
denied. That some stray copy of a now lost edition of the book may
have suggested to Gutenberg the superior utility of typography is
possible, but the suggestion was that of the feasibility of a grander
result by an entirely different process. For, although typography took
its beginnings in an earlier practice of xylography, it was not the
outgrowth[236] of that practice. It took up the art of printing at a
point [p393] where xylography had failed, and developed it by new
ideas and new methods. Typography was an invention pure and simple. In
the theory and practice of block-printing, there was nothing that could
have been improved until it reached the discovery of the only proper
method of making types.
It may have been from his experience in the melting and pouring of
lead, in the engraving of designs for the frames of his mirrors, in
the use of a press for the moulding of the designs for these frames,
that Gutenberg derived his first practical ideas of the true method
of making types. Whatever the external impulse which led Gutenberg
to printing, it was so strong that it compelled him to abandon the
practice of all other arts. After this trial we hear no more of him as
a maker of mirrors, or a polisher of gems.
The record of the trial before Cune Nope is not the only evidence we
have that Gutenberg’s unknown art was that of typography. Wimpheling,
one of the most learned men of his age, and nearly contemporary with
Gutenberg, gives the following testimony concerning early printing in
Strasburg:[237]
In the year of our Lord 1440, under the reign of Frederic III, Emperor
of the Romans, John Gutenberg, of Strasburg, discovered a new method
of writing, which is a great good, and almost a divine benefit to the
world. He was the first in the city of Strasburg who invented that art
of impressing which the Latin peoples call printing. He afterward went
to Mentz, and happily perfected his invention.
In another book, in which Wimpheling pays compliment to the
intelligence of the people of Strasburg, he writes:
Your city is acknowledged to excel most other cities by its
origination of the art of printing, which was afterward perfected in
Mentz.
The _Chronicle of Cologne_[238] is as explicit as to date, but not as
to place. It specifies 1440 as the date of the discovery of printing
“in the manner that is now generally used.” [p394]
The evidence of the witnesses on the trial agrees with the testimony
afforded by the chronicles: it is plain that Gutenberg had not
perfected his invention in 1439. From his lonely room in the ruined
monastery of Saint Arbogastus, to which he retreated for the sake of
secrecy, Gutenberg gave work to Dünne, the goldsmith, to Saspach,
the joiner, and to Dritzehen, his old workman. It would seem that
they were not producing work for sale, but were making tools which
required a great deal of labor. Dritzehen worked night and day, Madame
Schultheiss helping him. At the death of Dritzehen, the work expended
on the art had cost a great deal of money, but it was still incomplete.
The testimony shows that it had been intended that the salable work
to be produced by the partnership should be exposed for sale at the
great fair of Aix-la-Chapelle in the summer of 1439. The postponement
of this fair[239] to the year 1440 was a grave disappointment. If the
object of the partnership was the making of popular books of devotion,
we can understand the reasonableness of the hopes of great profit
when the books should be laid before the pious pilgrims. The sudden
death of Andrew Dritzehen was the occasion of more delay. Gutenberg,
fearing that the public, or George Dritzehen, would get possession of
the secret, melted the forms and suspended the work. Then followed a
litigation which lasted nearly one year, during which period it seems
no work was done.
[Illustration: A Medieval Press.
[From Duverger.]]
There are many conflicting opinions about the character of the printing
so obscurely mentioned in the testimony of the witnesses. Schoepflin
says it was block-printing. In the four pieces lying in the press,
he sees four pages of engraved [p395] blocks; in the two buttons,
which Dr. Van der Linde says are improperly translated by him as two
screws, he finds a screw chase that held the four pages together.
This conjecture is in every way improbable. All the processes of
block-printing should have been as well known at that time in Strasburg
as they were in Venice, Augsburg and Nuremberg. Something more novel
than this form of printing would have been required to secure the
coöperation of shrewd men like Riffe and Heilmann. The enthusiasm of
Dritzehen, and the eagerness of all parties to learn the new art, and
to have a share in its profits, cannot be satisfactorily explained by
the conjecture that this art was simple block-printing.[240] [p396]
Gutenberg may have begun his experiments in typography by the use
of engraved types or punches of wood;[241] but he must have soon
discovered the defects and limitations of xylography and have reached
the unalterable conclusion that useful types could be made of metal
only.
There is no plausibility in the theory of Fischer, that the thing of
four pieces was a form of four pages or columns of types of wood. Nor
is there any evidence that Gutenberg had then done any practical work.
The practice of printing in Dritzehen’s house cannot be inferred from
the presence of a press, for there is no notice of paper, printed
sheets or books. It does not seem that there was a mystery about the
press. It was not the press, but what was in it, concerning which the
people were curious. It was the imperfectly described implement of four
pieces which gave the partners anxiety. [p397]
Nor was the tool of four pieces the only object of value. Gutenberg
assured the partners that the things had cost him nearly as much as he
asked of them for their shares in the enterprise, but more were to be
made. In the event of the death of a partner, his heirs were to be paid
their claim on the _forms_ and tools. When Dritzehen died, Gutenberg
sent for _all the forms_, which were melted before his eyes,[242] which
act he subsequently regretted on account of the _forms_. It was a rash
act, but Gutenberg’s fears were aroused, and he preferred to destroy
the tools rather than allow George Dritzehen to get a knowledge of his
secret.
In the practice of printing, the word form means a collection
of composed types, arranged in readable order, secured together
as one piece, in an iron band or chase, and prepared to receive
impression.[243] In all printing offices it has this meaning. That the
forms so frequently mentioned in this record of the trial were of metal
is clearly implied in the statement [p398] that Gutenberg melted them.
These forms, or formens, were, without doubt, implements connected with
typography; but whether they were types, or matrices, or moulds, or a
collection of types, is not so clear. If they were types, it will seem
strange that they were not accurately described as letters of metal
by some of the witnesses who saw them. If we regard them as matrices,
they may have been “the nice things” alluded to by Reimbolt, the use
of which he did not understand.[244] It is possible that Dritzehen was
making matrices and fitting them to the mould. If the _forms_ were
matrices, they and the punches could have cost five hundred guilders.
If the “nice things” were matrices, there must have been a type-mould,
and it was this mould which was the key to the invention. The mould
was the only implement connected with typography which would at once
lay open to an intelligent observer the secret of making types. Of all
his tools, this was the one that had received the greatest amount of
care and labor, and it should have been the one that Gutenberg would be
anxious to conceal. It may be supposed that the thing of four pieces
that was opened by two buttons was the mould.[245] Why it should have
been kept in or under the press cannot be explained. But if Dritzehen
was fitting up matrices, it was proper that he should have the mould at
hand. The conjecture that the thing of four pieces was a type-mould,
is not free from difficulties, but it seems the only one that makes
intelligible the action of the witnesses. [p399]
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Type-mould of Claude Garamond.
_a._ The place where the body of the type was cast. _b. c._ The
mouth-piece in which the fluid metal was poured. _d._ The type as cast,
with the metal formed in the mouth-piece adhering to it.
[From Duverger.]]