for the most part, in sections of ten leaves, and usually bound in
three volumes. Each page has two columns of 36 lines each. In some
sections, a leaf torn out, possibly on account of some error, has
been replaced by the insertion of a single leaf or a half sheet. The
workmanship of the first section is inferior: the indentation of paper
by too hard pressure is very strongly marked; the pages are sadly
out of register; on one page the margins and white space between the
columns show the marks of a wooden chase and bearers, which were used
to equalize impressions and prevent undue wear of types. This section
has the appearance of experimental or unpractised workmanship. It is
apparent, almost at a glance, that the printer did not use a proper
chase and bearers, nor a frisket, nor points for making register.[256]
All other sections were printed with the proper appliances, with
uncommon neatness of presswork, in black ink, with exact register, and
with a nicely graduated impression, which shows the sharp edges of the
types with clearness.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Bible of 36 Lines, with
the Rubricator’s Marks on the Capitals. Verses 17 to 22 of the Sixth
Chapter of the Book of Wisdom.
[Photographed from a Fragment of the Original in the Collection of Mr.
David Wolfe Bruce.]]
The types of this book closely resemble, in face and body, many
letters being identically the same, the types of the display line in
the _Letter of Indulgence of 31 lines_, and of the _Donatus of 1451_.
In some features they resemble the types of the _Bible of 42 lines_.
It is possible that the types of each edition were designed and made
by the same letter cutter, and that they were made for and used by
the same printer. This opinion is strengthened after an inspection
of the mannerisms of the composition, which are those of the _Bible
of 42 lines_. The colon, period, and hyphen are the only marks of
punctuation. The lines of the text are always full: the hyphen [p414]
is frequently seen projecting beyond the letters. A blank space
was left for every large initial which, it was expected, would be
inserted by the calligrapher. Red ink was not used by the printer; the
rubricated letters were dabbed over with a stroke from the brush of the
illuminator.
[Illustration: Some of the Abbreviations of the Bible of 36 lines.
[From Duverger.]]
One copy of the book contains a written annotation dated 1461. An
account book of the Abbey of Saint Michael of Bamberg, which begins
with the date March 21, 1460, has in its original binding some of
the waste leaves of this Bible. These, the earliest evidences of
date, prove that this edition could not have been printed later than
1459. That it was done in 1450, as asserted by Madden, has not been
decisively proved, but the evidence favoring this conclusion deserves
consideration. Ulric Zell’s testimony that the first _Bible_ was
printed in 1450 from missal-like types,[257] points with directness to
the _Bible of 36 lines_, for there is no other printed Bible to which
Zell’s description can be applied. Its close imitation of the large
and generous style in which the choicer manuscripts of that period are
written marks the period of transition between the old and the new
style of book-making. The prodigality in the use of paper seems the
work of a man who had not counted the cost, or who thought that he was
obliged to disregard the expense. As not more than half a dozen copies
are known, it is probable that the number printed was small. Nearly all
the copies and leaves of this edition were found in the neighborhood of
Bamberg. This curious circumstance may be explained by the supposition
that the entire edition, probably small, had been printed at the order
of, or [p415] had been mortgaged to, one of the many ecclesiastical
bodies of that town. There is evidence that Gutenberg frequently
borrowed money from wealthy monasteries. The imperfect workmanship
of the first section is, apparently, the work of a printer in the
beginning of his practice, when he had not discovered all the tools and
implements which he afterward used with so much success.[258]
The _Bible of 36 lines_ should have been in press a long time, for it
cannot be supposed that Gutenberg had the means to do this work with
regularity. His office was destitute of composing sticks and rules,
iron chases, galleys, and imposing stones. Deprived of these and other
labor-saving tools, without the expertness acquired by practice,
frequently delayed by the corrections of the reader, the failures of
the type-founder and the errors of pressmen, it is not probable that
the compositor perfected more than one page a day. He may have done
less. Even if, as Madden supposes, two or more compositors were engaged
on this, as they were upon other early work, the _Bible of 36 lines_
should have been in press about three years.[259]
The newness of the types seems to favor the opinion that this must
be the earlier edition. The same types, or types cast from the same
matrices, were frequently used in little books printed between the
years 1451 and 1462, but they always appear with worn and blunted
faces, as if they had [p416] been rounded under the long-continued
pressure of a press, or had been founded in old and clogged matrices.
Gutenberg deceived himself as much as he did his Strasburg partners,
in his over-sanguine estimate of the profits of printing and the
difficulties connected with its practice. His printed work did not meet
with the rapid sale he had anticipated, or the cost of doing the work
was very much in excess of the price he received. The great success
which Andrew Dritzehen hoped to have within one year, or in 1440, had
not been attained in 1450. During this year Gutenberg comes before us
again as the borrower of money. If he had been only an ordinary dreamer
about great inventions, he would have abandoned an enterprise so hedged
in with mechanical and financial difficulties. But he was an inventor
in the full sense of the word, an inventor of means as well as of ends,
as resolute in bending indifferent men as he was in fashioning obdurate
metal. After spending, ineffectually, all the money he had acquired
from his industry, from his partners, from his inheritance, from his
friends,—still unable to forego his great project,—he went, as a last
resort, to one of the professional money-lenders of Mentz. “Heaven or
hell,” says Lacroix, “sent him the partner John Fust.”[260]
The character and services of John Fust have been put [p417] before us
in strange lights. By some of the earlier writers he was most untruly
represented as the inventor of typography, as the instructor, as well
as the partner, of Gutenberg. By another class of authors he has been
regarded as the patron and benefactor of Gutenberg, a man of public
spirit, who had the wit to see the great value of Gutenberg’s new art,
and the courage to unite his fortunes with those of the needy inventor.
This latter view has been popular: to this day, Fust is thoroughly
identified with all the honors of the invention. The unreasonableness
of this pretension has sent other writers to the opposite extreme.
During the present century, Fust has been frequently painted as a
greedy and crafty speculator, who took a mean advantage of the needs of
Gutenberg, and basely robbed him of the fruits of his invention.[261]
[Illustration: John Fust.
[From Maittaire.]]
It is possible that Gutenberg knew John Fust, the money-lender,
through business relations with Fust’s brother, James, the goldsmith;
for we have seen that, during his experiments in Strasburg, Gutenberg
had work done by two goldsmiths. What projects Gutenberg unfolded to
John Fust, and what allurements he set forth, are not known; but the
wary money-lender would not have hazarded a guilder on Gutenberg’s
invention, if he had not been convinced of its value and of Gutenberg’s
ability. John Fust knew that there was some risk in the enterprise, for
it is probable that he had heard of [p418] the losses of Dritzehen,
Riffe and Heilmann. In making an alliance with the inventor, Fust
neglected none of the precautions of a money-lender. He really added to
them, insisting on terms through which he expected to receive all the
advantages of a partnership without its liabilities.[262]
The terms were hard. But Gutenberg had the firmest faith in the success
of his invention: in his view it was not only to be successful, but
so enormously profitable that he could well afford to pay all the
exactions of the money-lender. The object of the partnership is not
explicitly stated, but it was, without doubt, the business of printing
and publishing text books, and, more especially, the production of
a grand edition of the _Bible_, the price of a fair manuscript copy
of which, at that time, was five hundred guilders. The expense that
would be made in printing a large edition of this work seemed trivial
in comparison with the sum which Gutenberg dreamed would be readily
paid for the new books. But the expected profit was not the only
allurement. Gutenberg was, no doubt, completely dominated by the idea
that necessity was laid on him—that he must demonstrate the utility
and grandeur of his invention,—and this must be done whether the
demonstration beggared or enriched him. After sixteen years of labor,
almost if not entirely fruitless, he snatched at the partnership with
Fust as the only means by which he could realize the great purpose of
his life. The overruling power of the money-lender was shown in the
[p419] begining of the partnership. Gutenberg had ready the types
of the _Bible of 36 lines_, and had, perhaps, printed a few copies
of the work—too few to supply the demand. Another edition could have
been printed without delay, but it was decided that this new edition
should be in a smaller type and in two volumes. It was intended that
the cost of the new edition should be about one-third less than that of
the _Bible of 36 lines_. Gutenberg was, consequently, obliged to cut
a new face and found a new font of types, which, by the terms of the
agreement, were to be mortgaged to Fust.
Fust did not assist Gutenberg as he should have done. Instead of paying
the 800 guilders at once, as was implied in the agreement, he allowed
two years to pass before this amount was fully paid. The equipment of
the printing office with new types was sadly delayed. At the end of the
two years, when Gutenberg was ready to print, he needed for the next
year’s expenses, and for the paper and vellum for the entire edition,
more than the 300 guilders allowed to him by the agreement of 1450.
Fust, perceiving the need of Gutenberg, saw also his opportunity for a
stroke in finance, which would assist him in the designs which he seems
to have entertained from the beginning. He proposed a modification of
the contract—to commute the annual payment of 300 guilders for the
three successive years by the immediate payment of 800 guilders. As
an offset to the loss Gutenberg would sustain by this departure from
the contract, Fust proposed to remit his claim to interest on the
800 guilders that had been paid. Gutenberg, eager for the money, and
credulous, assented to these modifications.
The delays and difficulties which Gutenberg encountered in the printing
of this edition were great, but no part of the work was done hastily
or unadvisedly. He may not have received practical education as a
book-maker, but he had the rare good sense to accept instruction from
those who had. The _Bible of 42 lines_ was obviously planned by an
adept in all the book-making skill of his time. It was laid out in 66
[p420] sections, for the most part of 10 leaves each. To facilitate
the division of the book in parts (so that it could be bound, if
necessary for the convenience of the reader, in ten thin volumes),
some of the sections have but 4, some 11, and some 12 leaves. The book
proper, without the summary of contents, consists of 1282 printed
pages, 2 columns to the page, and, for the most part, with 42 lines to
the column.[263]
A wide margin was allowed for the ornamental borders, without which
no book of that time was complete, and large spaces were also left
in the text for the great initial letters. It was expected that the
purchaser of the book would have the margins and spaces covered with
the fanciful designs and bright colors of the illuminator. In some
copies, this work of illumination was admirably done; in others it was
badly done or entirely neglected. The rubrics were roughly made by
dabbing a brush filled with red ink over a letter printed in black. On
the pages of 40 lines, the summaries of chapters were printed in red
ink; on other pages the summaries were written, sometimes in red and
sometimes in black ink. [p421] It would seem that it was Gutenberg’s
original intention to print all the summaries in red ink, and that he
was obliged, for some unknown reason, to have them written in.
The general effect of the typography is that of excessive blackness,—an
effect which seems to have been made of set purpose, for the designer
of the types made but sparing use of hair lines. It may be that the
avoidance of hair lines was caused by difficulties of type-founding.
The type-founding was properly done: the types have solid faces and
stand in line. The letters are not only black but condensed, and are
so closely connected that they seem to have been spread by pressure.
Double letters and abbreviations were freely used. Judged by modern
standards, the types are ungraceful; the text letters are too dense and
black, and the capitals are of rude form, obscure, and too small for
the text. The presswork is unequal: on some vellum copies, the types
are clearly and sharply printed; on other copies, they show muddily
from excess of ink. On the paper copies, the ink is usually of a full
black, but there are pages on paper and on vellum, in which, for lack
of ink and impression,[264] the color is of a grimy gray-black. Van der
Linde and others say that the ink will not resist water, but the ink on
the fragments of vellum belonging to Mr. Bruce stood a severe test by
water, without any weakening of color. The register on the paper copies
is very good; on the vellum copies it is offensively irregular, a plain
proof that the vellum had been dampened, and had shrunk or twisted
before the second side was printed.
It has been said that this _Bible of 42 lines_ was printed with intent
to cheat purchasers, so that it might be sold as a manuscript. There
is a legend that Fust did attempt the cheat at Paris, but there is no
good authority for the libel, which scarcely deserves examination.
There were, no doubt, during the fifteenth century, many who could
not perceive [p422] the dissimilarities between manuscript and
printed books, but these men were not book-buyers. To the intelligent
book-buyer, the features of dissimilarity were conspicuous.[265] It
is not at all probable that Gutenberg entertained any thought of
deception: he imitated his manuscript copy only because it was in an
approved style of book-making.
Although the types of this _Bible_ are obsolete, there is something
pleasing in their boldness and solidity to a reader who is wearied
with the small trim letters, light lines and apparently paler ink of
modern books. The effect of rugged strength is relieved by the flowing
lines, vivid colors and complex ornamentation of the odd borders and
initials which have been added by designer and illuminator. How much
of the pleasure derived from an inspection of the work is due to the
skill of the printer, and how much to the art of the illuminator, has
not always been judicially weighed by those who represent the book
as a specimen of perfect printing. It cannot be denied that the most
attractive features of the book are those made, not by printing, but by
illumination, but it is plain that the designs and ornamentation are
not of a character appropriate to the text. They would not be allowed
in any modern edition of the book.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of the Types of the Bible of 42 Lines,
with the Rubricator’s Marks on the Capitals. Verses 10 to 20 of the
Fifteenth Chapter of the Acts of the Apostles.
[Photographed from a Fragment of the Original in the Collection of Mr.
David Wolfe Bruce.]]
The workmanship of the printer in his own proper field is wonderful
when we regard the circumstances under which it was done, but it would
not satisfy the requirements of a modern publisher or book-buyer. It is
of its own time, with the faults of that time, in manner and matter.
The promise of legibility, which seems warranted by the bold and black
types, is delusive. The ordinary Latin scholar cannot read the book,
nor refer to any passage in it, with satisfaction. It is without title
and paging figures. The blank spaces which indicate changes of subject,
and give relief to the eye, were seized by the illuminator. Verse
follows verse, and chapter follows chapter, and one line chases another
with a [p424] grudging of white space and of true relief which is not
atoned for by the dabs of red in the rubrics, nor by the profuse wealth
of ornamentation in the centre column and margins. The composition is
noticeably irregular: the lines are not always of uniform length. When
a word was divided, the hyphen was allowed to project and give to the
right side of the column a ragged appearance. When there were too many
letters for the line, words were abbreviated. The measure was narrow,
and it was only through the liberal use of abbreviations that the
spacing of words could be regulated. The period, colon and hyphen were
the only points of punctuation.
The manuscript taken for copy was not strictly accurate, and the errors
of the scribe were repeated by the compositor. The liberties taken
by scribe and compositor in the making of abbreviations, and in the
spelling out of abbreviations, were a prolific source of error. It
was quite as much on account of the frequency of these errors, as the
obsoleteness of the types, that this famous edition was so soon laid
aside and was so quickly forgotten. It was supplanted by the editions
of the more scholarly printers of the sixteenth century, who collated
a great many manuscript and printed copies before they prepared a new
copy for the printer.
It is unfortunate that Gutenberg did not, as was customary with the
book-makers of that time, put his name and the date of printing on
the book. The omission was partially supplied by an illuminator who
suffixed the following colophons or subscriptions to his copy of the
book:
_First Volume._ Here endeth the First Part of the Old Testament of
the Holy Bible, which was illuminated, rubricated and bound by Henry
Albech, or Cremer, on Saint Bartholomew’s Day (August 24), in the year
of our Lord 1456. Thanks be to God. Hallelujah.
_Second Volume._ This Book was illuminated, bound and perfected by
Henry Cremer, vicar of the Collegiate Church of Saint Stephen in
Mentz, on the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin (August
15), in the year of our Lord 1456. Thanks be to God. Hallelujah.
As the second volume was illuminated nine days before the first volume,
it may be supposed that, on this copy, the [p425] work of illumination
was started on the sheets, as soon as they had been printed and before
they were bound. It is possible that the last sheet was printed in
1456, but it is a more general belief that the work was completed in
1455.
There is no tradition about the number printed. At the close of the
century, three hundred copies were regarded by printers of Italy as
a proper number for an edition in folio. It is not probable that
Gutenberg printed so large a number. Unbound copies were sold at
different times and places, not long after publication, for various
sums ranging from twelve guilders to sixty crowns.[266] It does not
appear that the books provoked any enthusiasm: no chronicler of that
time thought it worth while to give them even a passing mention. We
have to suppose that they attracted no more attention than the books
of a copyist. It appears, also, that the _Bible of 42 lines_, from a
mercantile point of view, was a very unsuccessful enterprise. This is
the evidence.
On the sixth day of November, 1455, Fust brought a suit for the
recovery of the money advanced to Gutenberg. As Gutenberg was unable to
pay the demand, we may suppose that the _Bible_ had not been completed,
or, had not met with a ready sale. The suit of John Fust has been the
occasion of discordant criticism. Dibdin fully justifies his action,
and intimates that Gutenberg was really a trickster, who would have
defrauded Fust if he had not resorted to summary proceedings. The
defenders of Fust, who are few, have to admit that he here appears
as a keen man of business, destitute of sentiment, and of ungenerous
disposition. Sympathizers with Gutenberg denounce Fust as a cunning
schemer, who had made the terms of the partnership rigorous with
the secret determination to get possession of the invention through
Gutenberg’s inability to keep his contract.
This is the record of the proceedings before the court: [p426]