regret. He had abundantly demonstrated the [p442] utility of his
invention and his own ability as a printer by the publication of two
great books and many pamphlets. His art had been adopted in five German
cities: it was then making its entry in Rome; it was eagerly sought for
by the king of France. A future of unbounded popularity and usefulness
was before it. The young men to whom Gutenberg had taught the practice
of printing had so improved that they were his equals and superiors,
and the old man of quite seventy years could not cope with these
competitors. His ambition for pre-eminence in his own art, or for the
wealth that should have been derived from its practice, if he ever had
such aspirations, had to be given up. It was time that he should quit
the stage.
Gutenberg did not long enjoy the leisure or the honors of a courtier.
In February, 1468, he was dead. Nothing is known of the cause or the
circumstances of his death, nor is there any mention of a surviving
family. We have to conclude that John Gutenberg, the inventor of the
greatest of modern arts, died, weighed down by debts, and unattended by
wife or child. The disposition of his printing office is stated in the
following document:[282]
I, THE undersigned, Conrad Humery, doctor, acknowledge by this
writing, that his eminence the prince, my gracious and dear lord
Adolphus, archbishop of Mentz, has generously delivered to me certain
formen [matrices or moulds], characters [types], instruments,
utensils, and other implements connected with printing, which John
Gutenberg left after his death, which materials belonged and still
belong to me:[283] but, for the honor and the satisfaction of his
eminence I am bound, and I pledge myself, by this document, never to
put them to use but in the city of Mentz, and further, to sell them,
at a fair price, to a citizen of Mentz in preference to any other. In
testimony whereof, I have put my seal to these presents, which have
been made in the year of our Lord 1468, on the Friday after Saint
Matthew’s day [26th of February]. [p443]
In this strange document we again find the word _formen_, and the
_formen_ are specified first, as if they were the most valuable tools.
As types are specifically described, it is plain that these _formen_
must have been matrices or moulds.
Humery kept his word. The types and tools of Gutenberg remained with
Nicholas Bechtermüntz until his death. They were then transferred to
the custody or the possession of the Brothers of the Life-in-Common,
who had a printing office at Marienthal, near Eltvill, as early as
1468. That this place was regarded as a part of Mentz may be inferred
from the imprint they put on their first book, which is to this effect:
Dated in our city of Mentz on the last day of August, 1468. Eltvill was
the chosen residence of the archbishop, and under his jurisdiction, and
might properly be considered as a dependency or a part of the city of
Mentz.
For some unknown reason these Brothers of the Life-in-Common made no
use of the types of Gutenberg. In the year 1508, they were sold to
Frederic Hauman of Nuremberg, who established a printing office in
Mentz, and who used these types in many of his books.[284] The house
that had been occupied by Hauman as a printing office was subsequently
used for the same purpose by Albinus, a printer of [p444] the
seventeenth century. The types of Gutenberg were in this house at the
end of the sixteenth century, for Serarius, in his _History of Mentz_,
says that he had seen them there.[285]
Humery’s promise that, in the sale of the printing materials then
contemplated, he would give preference to a citizen of Mentz, was
obviously made at the request of the archbishop. It follows that the
types of the dead printer were then regarded as relics of value of
which the city should be proud. This request, which would not have been
made without occasion, seems to confirm the conjecture that Gutenberg
had previously sold the types, or at least the matrices, of the _Bible
of 36 lines_ to Albert Pfister, of the monastic town of Bamberg. It is
not probable that the deed of gift would have been clogged with this
stipulation, if there had been no sale.
This request of the archbishop is the only evidence we have that
Gutenberg’s work was appreciated, but the appreciation came when he
was dead. No contemporary writer noticed the _Bible of 42 lines_,
and no one during his lifetime suitably honored Gutenberg as a great
inventor. The archbishop, who knew the merit of the man, and pitied
his misfortunes, had not a word to say in the document that made him a
courtier of his services as an inventor or printer.
This indifference or want of perception seems inexcusable, but it was
not altogether without cause. The readers of that time were somewhat
familiar with printed impressions in the form of block-books, and
the _Bible of 42 lines_ may have seemed to them but a block-book of
larger size and of higher order. Knowing that engraving, ink, paper,
and impression upon surfaces in relief, were used in both processes,
the ordinary book-buyer could have inferred that type-printing was the
natural outgrowth of the older and well-known art of block-printing.
According to this view, Gutenberg invented little or nothing; he did
but little more than combine some old and well-known processes; he
distinguished himself more by the great size of his books than by the
novelty or merit [p445] of his process. It is but proper to expose
this sophistry, for it is perpetuated to this day in several books on
typography.
This grave error did not originate with the first printers, who knew
the full difference between type and block-printing. They knew that
Gutenberg was indebted to the earlier block-printers for a great deal
of his knowledge, but they knew as well that his system of printing
was a great and an original invention, for they clearly understood,
what the ordinary book-reader did not, the value of its characteristic
feature. And here it may be repeated, for the error is common and it is
necessary to be emphatic, that the merit of Gutenberg as an inventor
is not based upon his supposed discovery of the advantages of movable
types, but upon the system by which he made the movable types. All the
printers of that period recognized the fact that Gutenberg’s method
of making the types, or the type-mould, with its connections, was
the proper basis or starting-point of the invention. Schœffer, who
first printed a notice of the new art, speaks of it as the “masterly
invention of printing and also of type-making,” implying that the art
of printing was inseparably connected with that of type-making. John
Gutenberg, in the _Catholicon_, has not a word to say about isolated
types, nor about a combination of types: the admiration which he
invokes for the masterly invention should, in his view of the matter,
be bestowed on its system of making the types, or on the “admirable
proportion, connection and harmony of the punches and matrices.”
Gutenberg made no effort to secure for himself his rightful honors as
the inventor of printing, but his friends who knew the nature and value
of his services were not neglectful. We have abundant evidence that
Gutenberg was the man, and Mentz the place, where printing was invented.
Trithemius, from information furnished by Peter Schœffer, said, in a
book written before 1490, “About this time (1450), the admirable and
then unheard-of art of composing and printing books, by means of types,
was conceived and invented at Mentz, by a citizen of Mentz, named John
Gutenberg.” [p446]
Matthias Palmer, in 1474, said that John Gutenberg, a knight of Mentz,
had invented the art of printing books.
Ulric Zell’s testimony, given in 1499, is equally explicit.[286]
Polydore Virgil, in his treatise on _Inventions_, says, in the first
edition, that printing was invented by one Peter [probably Peter
Schœffer], but in the second edition of 1517, he corrected the error,
and attributed the invention to Gutenberg.
Wimpheling, in 1499, wrote and published at Heidelberg some verses
praising Gutenberg, in which he said, “Blessed Gensfleisch! through
you Germany is famous everywhere. Assisted by Omniscience, you John,
first of all, printed with letters in metal. Religion, the wisdom of
Greece, and the language of the Latins, are forever indebted to you.”
Two professors at Heidelberg, at an earlier date (1494), had written
panegyrics on Gutenberg as the inventor of typography, in which he is
honored above all the great men of antiquity.[287]
Two friends of Gutenberg who, no doubt, knew all about his invention,
put up tablets to his memory, in which his merit as an inventor is
distinctly acknowledged. The inscriptions on these tablets have not
received the attention which they merit. The tablet first placed was
put up not long after his death by his relative, Adam Gelthus, near
his tomb in the church of St. Francis. This is a translation of the
inscription:
To John Genszfleisch, inventor of the art of printing, and deserver of
the highest honors from every nation and tongue, Adam Gelthus places
this tablet, in perpetual commemoration of his name. His remains
peacefully repose in the church of St. Francis of Mentz.[288] [p447]
Gelthus properly describes Gutenberg’s invention as _the_ art of
printing. In a practical view, there was no other.
Equally instructive is the pithy inscription on the second tablet,
which was put up by Ivo Wittig,[289] in the court of the house of the
Gensfleisch family, where Gutenberg is supposed to have died,[290] and
which was then used as a law school.
To John Gutenberg, of Mentz, who, first of all, invented printing
letters in brass [matrices and moulds], and by this art has deserved
honor from the whole world, Ivo Wittig places this stone in
commemoration, 1508.[291]
Ivo Wittig, who had probably known Gutenberg, and who clearly
understood his process, is not content with a paraphrase of the Gelthus
inscription. In plain words, he specifies the key of the invention:
Gutenberg, first of all, made types in brass moulds and matrices. In
other words, it was only through the invention of the type-mould and
matrices in brass that printing became a great art. This inscription
shows that [p448] Wittig, then professor of history in the University,
and probably the most learned man in Mentz, regarded John Gutenberg as
the true inventor of printing.
Considered from a mechanical point of view, the merit of Gutenberg’s
invention may be inferred from its permanency. His type-mould was
not merely the first; it is the only practical mechanism for making
types. For more than four hundred years this mould has been under
critical examination, and many attempts have been made to supplant
it. Contrivances have been invented for casting fifty or more types
at one operation; for swaging types, like nails, out of cold metal;
for stamping types from cylindrical steel dies upon the ends of thin
copper rods—but experience has shown that these and like inventions
in the department of type-making machinery are impracticable. There
is no better method than Gutenberg’s. Modern type-casting machines
have moulds attached to them which are more exact and more carefully
finished, and which have many little attachments of which Gutenberg
never dreamed, but in principle and in all the more important features,
the modern moulds may be regarded as the moulds of Gutenberg.
Gutenberg’s merit as an original inventor, although never properly
recognized during his life, was never denied. But this merit was
disallowed and set aside after his death by the sons and friends of
Peter Schœffer. They said that printing was only half invented by
Gutenberg, and that the complete invention is really due to Gutenberg’s
assistant and successor. As this claim has been repeated by many
authors, it is necessary, for the vindication of Gutenberg, to review
the work and workmanship of Peter Schœffer and John Fust.
[p449]
XXIII
The Work of Peter Schœffer and John Fust.
Schœffer a Copyist at Paris in 1449 . . . Fac-simile of his Writing
. . . Enters the Service of Gutenberg . . . Psalter of 1457, with
Fac-simile of Types and Initials in Colors . . . Accurate Register of
Initial made by Painting the Cut . . . Evidences of Painting . . .
Fac-simile of Colophon in Colors . . . Different Theories concerning
the Method of Printing . . . Schœffer’s First Claim as an Inventor
. . . Psalter probably Planned by Gutenberg . . . Fac-similes of
the Types of the Rationale Durandi and of the Bible of 1462 . . .
Trade-Mark of Fust and Schœffer . . . Fac-simile of the Types of the
Constitutions . . . Jenson’s Mission to Mentz . . . Printing not a
Secret . . . Death of Fust . . . Partnership of Schœffer and Conrad
Fust . . . Fac-simile of Types of 1468 . . . Schœffer becomes a Judge
. . . Schœffer’s Claim to the Invention of Matrices . . . Statements
of John Schœffer and of Trithemius . . . Their Improbability . . .
Statement of Jo. Frid. Faustus . . . Its Untrustworthiness.
* * * * *
The man who enters the service of Gutenberg and Fust at Mentz after
1450, when the invention was completed, and has yet the courage to
declare in 1468, that he, Petrus, entered first of all the sanctuary
of the art, is, notwithstanding all his technical ability as a
typographer, a bragger, against whose information we ought to be on
our guard.
_Van der Linde._
* * * * *
Peter Schœffer was born at Gernszheim, a little village situated on
the Rhine, near Mentz, about the year 1430. Before he was twenty years
of age, he was copying books at Paris, as is clearly enough shown in
the colophon of an old manuscript book, which says that “this book was
completed by me, Peter, of Gernszheym, or of Mentz, during the year
1449, in the most glorious University of Paris.” This isolated fact is
the only authority for the assertion that Schœffer was a calligrapher,
engaged by Gutenberg to design the letters and ornaments of the _Bible
of 42 lines_. He may have been qualified for this service, but the thin
letters and angular ornaments of his colophon are not like the thick
types and flowing lines of Gutenberg’s Bible. Like all poor students
[p450] of his time, Schœffer was a copyist, but we have no evidence
that he was a calligrapher or an illuminator. As a student of the
University of Paris, he was qualified to read and correct the proofs
of a Bible in Latin, and this may have been the duty for which he was
engaged. If so, he was not really needed in the printing office until
the types were founded, or until 1453; but whether he came then or
before, it is obvious that he entered the printing office as a boy from
school, and that all he knew of printing was taught him by Gutenberg.
He proved an apt scholar. Fust’s confidence in his ability is enough to
show that he had added skill to his knowledge, and that, when Gutenberg
departed, he was competent to supervise and manage all the departments
of the printing office.
[Illustration: Reduced Fac-simile of a Colophon written by Schœffer.
[From Madden.]]
Bernard thinks that Schœffer’s first work in his new place was
to change the appearance of the _Bible of 42 lines_[292] by the
cancellation of eight pages of 42 lines, and the substitution of pages
of 40 lines, with summaries printed in red ink. The extraordinary
licence then enjoyed by copyists allowed the compositor to abbreviate
the words of a manuscript copy [p451] of 42 lines, until they were
crowded into the space of 40 lines. The page was made of full length by
leading out, or by widening the lines with bands of stout parchment.
The first book published by Fust, after his separation from Gutenberg,
was the _Psalter[293] of 1457_, a folio of 175 leaves, which is almost
as famous as the _Bible of 42 lines_. Only seven fair copies of the
edition of 1457 are known, and all of them are on vellum. The leaves
of this book are nearly square, smaller in size than those of the
_Bible of 42 lines_, but, like that book, they are made up, for the
most part, in sections of ten nested leaves. The size of the printed
page is irregular, but most pages are about 8 inches wide and 12 inches
high. The Psalms are printed in types of Double-paragon body, and
the introductory or connecting text in types of Double-great-primer
body.[294] As the cut or fashion of these types is like that of the
Bibles of Gutenberg, it is possible that they were designed by the same
hand. The leaf was not broad enough for the large-sized types, but a
very large portion of it was given up to the initial letters and their
pendants, which are of unusual dimensions. The space allotted to the
print is small: but a few lines of the large types could be put on a
page, and on many pages it was necessary to use small types. The fault
of uneven or ragged outline on the right side of the page, which has
been noticed in the _Bible of 42 lines_, is repeated more strikingly in
the _Psalter_. Here and there spaces were made for plain chant notes of
music, parts of which appear in printing ink, while other parts seem to
have been retraced with a pen.
It is obviously an imitation not only of the copyist’s but of the
illuminator’s work upon a fine manuscript. It was intended that the
book should show the full capacity of the newly discovered art. Letters
and lines in red ink are to [p452] be found on every page, and there
are many very large and profusely ornamented initials in red and blue
inks. To the young reader who is accustomed to the severe and colorless
style of modern printing, the boldness and blackness of the stately
text types of this _Psalter_, the brightness of its rubrics, and the
graceful forms of its two-colored initials, are really bewildering.
They lead him to the belief that the workmanship of the book is of the
highest order. This has been the opinion of many eminent authors;[295]
the _Psalter of 1457_ has been called the perfection of printing.
[Illustration: Fac-simile of Part of the First Page of the Psalter of
1457.
[From Humphreys.]]
The initial letter B, the largest in the book, which is at the
beginning of the first Psalm, _Beatus vir_, has been often reproduced,
and commended as an example of skillful engraving, brilliant color
and faultless register. The design is beautiful, and admirably fitted
for relief printing, but it is not in the Gothic or German style: the
palm-leaf fillet-work is oriental, and was probably copied from some
Spanish manuscript, the illuminator of which had been taught in the
Moorish schools. In a few copies, the letter is red and the ornament is
blue; in other copies, the colors are reversed. In all copies the thin
white line which separates the red from the blue is always of uniform
thickness: there is no overlapping or meeting of the adjacent colors.
The register is without fault in all the copies. The quality of the ink
has been greatly praised: we are told [p454] that the black of the
text is very deep and glossy, that the red has a vividness of color,
and the blue a delicacy of tint, not to be found in the productions
of any modern printer. It has been asserted that this _Psalter_ is
more neatly printed than any modern book; that Schœffer, with rudely
made types, a rough press of wood, and with small experience in, or
scientific knowledge of, ink-making, succeeded in producing presswork
that has never been excelled on modern presses. These bold assertions
require careful examination.
[Illustration: Fac-simile, slightly reduced, of the Colophon of the
Psalter of 1457.
[From Falkenstein.]]
The few experts in printing who have examined copies of this book have
been so cowed by the rulings of eminent bibliographers that they have
not, apparently, dared to trust their own observation. Savage was the
first to refuse the dictum of authorities and tell us what he saw with
his own eyes. He distinctly says that the blackness of some notes of
music was made by retracing with a pen[296] the faded lines of a paler
printed color. Bernard[297] and Humphreys[298] plainly say that in the
fine copy of the _Mentz Psalter_ at the British Museum, some lines of
text have been written in by hand. Humphreys thinks that this filling
in of lines may have been done when the book was published. We have
here trusty evidence that the printing of the _Psalter_ was imperfect:
that in some places the ink was too weak,[299] and that the deeper
[p456] color was produced by painting the letters with a pen. The
brilliancy of the black ink has consequently been unwisely praised, for
it is a triumph not of printing, but of painting.
The same observation may be applied to the colored ink of the great
initials. Savage denies the statement of Papillon that the red ink is
of the most perfect beauty: he says that “it is a very heavy brick-dust
color.” Heineken says it is a dull red. A closer examination of the
book revealed the fact to Savage that the initials also had been
retraced or painted.
I could not avoid expressing my astonishment at seeing in some pages
two distinct red inks: one, the dull color before spoken of, and the
other, a red which, in printing, might fairly be called of the most
perfect beauty; and I had nearly left it with the belief that there
were two inks, red and blue, used in the printing of the book, which,
for brilliancy of color, would set at defiance all the efforts of
the present day to equal them. Some accidental circumstance caused
me to view the book in a different light, when I discovered that the
beautiful red was not printed but written in, so exactly like the
type that it could only be ascertained by the want of indentation in
the paper, which is invariably produced by pressure in the process of
printing. By the same means, I also ascertained that the fine delicate
blue was painted. Thus the colors produced by printing in the capital
letters are reduced to two, namely, dull blue and dull red.[300]
It is not difficult to explain this curious circumstance. The red and
blue printing inks first used by Schœffer were so dull and faded that
he would not suffer them to be compared with the brighter colors of
fair manuscripts. He was compelled to brighten the colors by painting.
Although sold as a printed book, the _Psalter_ was the joint work of
the printer and the illuminator, and the features which the modern
bibliographer most admires are those made by the illuminator.
The process employed by the printer of the _Psalter_ for securing an
exact register of the colors was just as irregular. It is an error to
assume that the two-colored initials were printed as similar work is
now printed, by two impressions. Bernard says that the red and the blue
blocks of the initials, [p457] each engraved on a separate piece of
wood, were made to fit each other, so that the red block should fit
accurately in the mortised blue block. In the process of printing,
each block was separately inked, but the red block was dropped in the
mortise of the blue block before impression was taken.[301] After these
painstaking preparations, exact register was inevitable.
Blades does not accept this explanation. He thinks that the engraving
for the red and the blue ink was done on one block, which was not
printed with ink, but was embossed in the paper as a guide to the
colorist. He says that his examination of the two-colored initial
letters of a Bible made by Sweynheim and Pannartz in 1467 proves that
they were not printed, but embossed, in the white paper; that the paper
mask on the frisket was left uncut over the engraving, so as to shield
the white paper from the ink, and to deepen the indentation of the
engraved lines; and that the illuminator made use of this indentation,
as he would of a pencil drawing, to guide his pen or brush when laying
on the colors. He further says[302] that a similar operation was
carelessly done in parts of the _Psalter of 1457_; that some of the
spiral lines, finials and ornaments were left uncolored, but that the
process was plainly exposed by the indentation of the engraved lines.