incalculable results have been produced. At first it was intended
merely to simplify the process of copying the books which were
already well known. And, if we may trust some of the stories told of
the earliest specimens of the art, we shall see that there was some
slight portion of dishonesty mingled with the talent of the Fathers
of printing. These were Guttenberg of Mentz, and his apprentice or
partner Faust. [A.D. 1455.] The first of their productions was a
Latin Bible; and the letters of this impression were such an exact
imitation of the works of the amanuensis that they passed it off as
an exquisite specimen of the copyist's art. Faust sold a copy to the
King of France for seven hundred crowns, and another to the Archbishop
of Paris for four hundred. The prelate, enchanted with his bargain,
(for the usual price was several hundred crowns above what he had
given,) showed it in triumph to the king. The king compared the two,
and was filled with astonishment. They were identical in every stroke
and dot. How was it possible for any two scribes, or even for the same
scribe, to produce so undeniable a fac-simile of his work? The capital
letters of the edition were of red ink. They inquired still further,
and found that many other copies had been sold, all precisely alike
in form and pressure. They came to the conclusion that Faust was a
wizard and had sold himself to the devil, and that the initials were
of blood. The Church and State, in this case united in the persons of
king and archbishop, had the magician apprehended. To save himself
from the flames, the unhappy Faust had to confess the deceit, and also
to discover the secret of the art. The whole mystery consisted in
cutting letters upon movable metal types, and, after rubbing them with
ink when they were correctly set, imprinting them upon paper by means
of a screw. A simple expedient, as it appeared to everybody when the
secret was spread abroad; for there had been seals stamping impressions
on wax for many generations. Medals and coins had been poured forth
from the dies of every nation from the dawn of history. In England,
playing-cards had been produced for several years, with the figures
impressed on them from wooden blocks; and in 1423 a stamped book,
with wood engravings, had made its appearance, which now, with many
treasures of typography, is in the library of Lord Spencer. Even in
Nineveh, we learn from recent discovery, the dried bricks, while in a
soft state, had been stamped with those curious-looking inscriptions,
by a board in which the unsightly letters were set in high relief.
Wooden letters had also long been known; and yet it was not till 1440
that Guttenberg bethought him of the process of printing, and only
after ten or twelve years' labour that he brought his experiments to
perfection and with one crush of the completed press opened new hopes
and prospects to the whole family of mankind. But things apparently
unconnected are brought together for good when the great turning-points
of human history are attained. There are always pebbles of the brook
within reach when the warrior-shepherd has taken the sling in his hand.
Shortly before the invention of printing, a discovery was made without
which Guttenberg's skill would have been of no avail. This was the
applicability of linen rags to the manufacture of paper. Parchment, and
preparations of straw and papyrus, had sufficed for the transcriber and
author of those unliterary times, but would have been inadequate to
supply the demand of the new process; and therefore we may say that, as
gunpowder was essential to the use of artillery, and steam-power for
the railway-train, linen paper was indispensable to the development of
the press. And the development was rapid beyond all imagination. In the
remaining portion of the century, eight thousand five hundred and nine
books were published, of which the English Caxton and his followers
supplied one hundred and forty-two,--a small contribution in actual
numbers, but valuable for the insight it gives us into the favourite
literature of the time. Among those volumes there are
"Songs of war for gallant knight,
Lays of love for lady bright;"
"The Tale of Troy divine," for scholars; "Tullie, of old age," and
"of Friendship," and "Virgil's Æneid," for the classical; "Lives of
Our Ladie and divers Saints," for the religious; and "The Consolation
of Boethius," for the afflicted. But several editions prove the
popularity of the Father of English poetry; and we find the "Tales of
Cauntyrburrie," and the "Book of Fame," and "Troylus and Cresyde, made
by Geoffrey Chaucer," the great and fitting representatives of the
native English muse.
We ought to remember, in judging of the paucity of books produced in
England, that the Wars of the Roses broke out at the very time when
Guttenberg's labours began. In such a season of struggle and unrest as
the thirty years of civil strife--for though Mr. Knight, in his very
interesting sketch of this date,[D] has shown that the period of actual
and open war was very short, the state of uneasiness and expectation
must have endured the whole time--there was small encouragement to the
peaceful triumphs of art or literature. And, moreover, the pride of
station was revolted by the prospect of the spread of information among
the classes to whom it had not yet reached. The noble could afford to
acknowledge his inferiority in learning and research to the priest
or monk, for it was their trade to be wise and learned, and their
scholarship was even considered a badge of the lowness of their birth,
which had given them the primer and psalter instead of the horse and
sword. But those high-hearted cavaliers could ill brook the notion of
educated clowns and peasants. And, strange to say, the sentiment was
shared and exaggerated by the peasants and clowns themselves. Jack
Cade is represented, by an anachronism of date but with perfect truth
of character, as profoundly irritated at the invention of printing, and
the building of a paper-mill, and the introduction of such heathenish
words as nominatives and adverbs: so that the press began its career
opposed by the two greatest parties of the State. Yet truth is mighty
and will prevail. No nobility in Europe gives such contributions to
the general stock of high and healthy thought as the descendants of
the men of Towton and Bosworth, and no peasantry values more deeply,
or would defend more gallantly, the gifts poured upon it by a free
and sympathizing press. Warwick the King-maker, if he had lived just
now, would have made speeches in Parliament and had them reported in
the _Times_, and Jack Cade would have been sent to the reformatory and
taught to read and write.
But, with the peerages of Europe greatly thinned, with mounted
feudalism overthrown, with the press rejoicing as a giant to run its
course, something also was needed in order to make a wider theatre for
the introduction of the new life of men. Another world lay beyond the
great waters of the Atlantic. Whispers had been going round the circle
of earnest inquirers, which gradually grew louder and louder till they
reached the ears of kings, that great things lay hidden in the awful
and mysterious solitudes of the ocean; that westward, to balance the
preponderance of our used-up continent, must be solid land, equal
in weight and size, so that the uninterrupted waters would conduct
the adventurous mariner to the farther India by a nearer route than
Bartholomew Diaz, the Portuguese, had just discovered. [A.D. 1487.]
This man sailed to the southern extremity of Africa, passed round to
the east without being aware of his achievement, and penetrated as
far as Lagoa Bay. But the crew became discontented, and the navigator
retraced his steps. Alarmed at the commotion of the vast waves of the
Southern Ocean pouring its floods against the Table Mountain, he had
retired from further research, and called the southern point of his
pilgrimage the Cape of Storms. It is now known to us by a happier
augury as the Cape of Good Hope. But, whether perpetually haunted by
tempests or not, the truth was discovered that the land ceased at that
promontory and left an unexplored sea beyond. This was cherished in
many a heart; for in this century maritime discovery kept pace with
the other triumphs of mental power. Wherever ship could swim man could
venture. The Azores had been discovered in 1439 and colonized by the
Portuguese in 1440. Already in possession of Cape Verd, Madeira, and
the Canaries, Portugal looked forward to greater discoveries, for these
were the nurseries of gallant and skilful mariners. But the glory was
left for another nation,--though, by a strange caprice of fortune, the
chance of it had been offered to nearly all.
The life of Columbus is more wonderful than a romance. He hawked about
his notion of the way to India at all the courts of Europe. By birth
a Genoese, he considered the great ocean the patrimony of any person
able to seize it. When his services, therefore, were rejected by his
own country, he offered them successively to Portugal, to Spain, and to
England. Henry the Seventh was inclined to venture a small sum in the
lottery of chances; but, while still in negotiation with the brother
of Columbus, the Spanish monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, closed with
the navigator's terms, and on the 3d of August, 1492, the squadron of
discovery, consisting of a vessel of some size, and two small pinnaces,
with a crew at most of a hundred persons in all the three, sailed from
the port of Palos, in Andalusia. Three weeks' constant progress to
the westward took them far beyond all previous navigation. The men
became disheartened, discontented, and finally rebellious. Against all,
Columbus bore up with the self-relying energy of a great mind, but was
driven to the compromise of promising, if they confided in him for
three days longer, he would return, if the object of his voyage was
yet unattained. But by this time his sagacious observation had assured
him of success. Strange appearances began to be perceived from the
ship's decks. A carved piece of wood floated past, then a reed newly
cut, and, best sign of all, a branch with red berries still fresh.
"From all these symptoms, Columbus was so confident of being near land,
that on the evening of the 11th of October, after public prayers for
success, he ordered the sails to be furled, and the ships to lie to,
keeping strict watch, lest they should be driven ashore in the night.
During this interval of suspense and expectation no man shut his eyes:
all kept upon deck, gazing intently towards that quarter where they
expected to discover the land, which had been so long the object of
their wishes. About two hours before midnight, Columbus, standing on
the forecastle, observed a light at a distance, and privately pointed
it out to Pedro Guttierez, a page of the queen's wardrobe. Guttierez
perceiving it, and calling to Salcedo, comptroller of the fleet, all
three saw it in motion, as if it were carried from place to place. A
little after midnight the joyful sound of '_Land! land!_' was heard
from the Pinta, which kept always ahead of the other ships. But, having
been so often deceived by fallacious appearances, every man was now
become slow of belief, and waited in all the anguish of uncertainty
and impatience for the return of day. As soon as morning dawned, all
doubts and fears were dispelled. From every ship an island was seen
about two leagues to the north, whose flat and verdant fields, well
stored with wood, and watered with many rivulets, presented the aspect
of a delightful country. The crew of the Pinta instantly began the _Te
Deum_ as a hymn of thanksgiving to God, and were joined by those of
the other ships, with tears of joy and transports of congratulation.
This office of gratitude to Heaven was followed by an act of justice to
their commander. They threw themselves at the feet of Columbus, with
feelings of self-condemnation mingled with reverence. They implored
him to pardon their ignorance, incredulity, and insolence, which had
created him so much unceasing disquiet and had so often obstructed the
prosecution of his well-concerted plan; and, passing in the warmth
of their admiration from one extreme to another, they now pronounced
the man whom they had so lately reviled and threatened to be a person
inspired by Heaven with sagacity and fortitude more than human, in
order to accomplish a design so far beyond the ideas and conception of
all former ages."
Many excellent writers have described this wondrous incident, but none
so well as the historian of America, Dr. Robertson, whose eloquent
account is borrowed in the preceding lines. The great event occurred on
Friday, the 12th of October, 1492, and the connection between the two
worlds began. The place he first landed at was San Salvador, one of the
Bahamas; and after attaching Cuba and Hispaniola to the Spanish crown,
and going through imminent perils by land and sea, he achieved his
glorious return to Palos on the 15th of March, 1493. He brought with
him some of the natives of the different islands he had discovered,
and their strange appearance and manners were vouchers for the facts
he stated. The whole town, when he came into the harbour, was in an
uproar of delight. "The bells were rung, the cannon fired, Columbus
was received at landing with royal honours, and all the people, in
solemn procession, accompanied him and his crew to the church, where
they returned thanks to Heaven, which had so wonderfully conducted,
and crowned with success, a voyage of greater length, and of more
importance, than had been attempted in any former age."[E]
SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
Emperors of Germany.
A.D.
MAXIMILIAN I.--(_cont._)
1519. CHARLES V.,(1st of Spain.)
1558. FERDINAND I.
1564. MAXIMILIAN II.
1576. RODOLPH II.
Kings of England.
A.D.
HENRY VII.--(_cont._)
1509. HENRY VIII.
1547. EDWARD VI.
1553. MARY.
1558. ELIZABETH.
Kings of Scotland.
A.D.
JAMES IV. (_cont._)
1513. JAMES V.
1542. MARY.
1567. JAMES VI.
Kings of France.
A.D.
LOUIS XII.--(_cont._)
1515. FRANCIS I.
1547. HENRY II.
1559. FRANCIS II.
1560. CHARLES IX.
1574. HENRY III.
(_The Bourbons._)
1589. HENRY IV.
Kings of Spain.
A.D.
1512. FERDINAND V., (the Catholic.)
1516. CHARLES I., (Emperor of Germany.)
1556. PHILIP II.
1598. PHILIP III.
Distinguished Men.
LEONARDO DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, RAFFAELLE, CORREGGIO, TITIAN,
(Painters,) SIR PHILIP SYDNEY, RALEIGH, SPENSER, SHAKSPEARE,
(1564-1616,) ARIOSTO, TASSO, LOPE DE VEGA, CALDERON, CERVANTES,
SCALIGER, (1484-1558,) COPERNICUS, (1473-1543,) KNOX, (1505-1572,)
CALVIN, (1509-1564,) BEZA, (1519-1605,) BELLARMINE, (1542-1621,) TYCHO
BRAHE, (1546-1601.)
THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
THE REFORMATION--THE JESUITS--POLICY OF ELIZABETH
In the last two years of the preceding century the course of maritime
discovery had been accelerated by fresh success. To balance the glories
of Columbus in the West, the "regions of the rising sun" had been
explored by Vasco da Gama, a Portuguese. This great navigator sailed
back into the harbour of Lisbon on the 16th of September, 1499, with
the astonishing news that he had doubled the Cape of Storms, which
had so alarmed Bartholomew Diaz, and established relations of amity
and commerce with the vast continent of India, having traded with a
civilized and industrious people at Calicut, a great city on the coast
of Malabar. Under these reiterated widenings of men's knowledge of the
globe, the human mind itself expanded. Familiar names meet us from
henceforth in the most distant quarters of the world. All national
or domestic history becomes mixed up with elements hitherto unknown.
The balance of power, which is the new constitution of the European
States, depends on circumstances and places of the most heterogeneous
character. A treaty between France and Spain, or between England and
either, is regulated by events occurring on the Amazon or Ganges.
The whole world gets more closely connected than ever it was before,
and we can look back on the proceedings of previous ages as filling
a very narrow theatre, and regulated by very contracted interests,
when compared with the universal policies on which public affairs have
now to rest. At first, however, the great results of these stupendous
discoveries were naturally not observed. Contemporaries are justly
accused of magnifying the small affairs of life of which they are
witnesses; but this observation does not hold good with respect to the
really momentous incidents of human history. A man who saw Columbus
return from his voyage, or Guttenberg pulling at his press, could not
rise to the contemplation of the prodigious consequences of these
two events. He thought, perhaps, a quarrel between two neighbouring
potentates, or a battle between France and Spain, the greatest incident
of his time. His son forgot all about the quarrel; his grandson had
no recollection of the battle; but widening in a still increasing
circle, expanding into still more wonderful proportions, were the
Discovery of America and the Art of Printing,--showing themselves in
combinations of events and changes of circumstances where they were
never expected to appear,--the one threatening to overthrow the freedom
of every State in Europe by the supremacy of the Spanish crown, the
other in reality preventing the chance of that consummation by raising
up the indomitable spirit of spiritual liberty. For there now came to
the aid of national independence the far more elevating feelings of
religious emancipation. Protestantism was not limited in this century
to denial of the spiritual authority of popes, but embodied itself also
in resistance to the political ambition of kings. America might have
enabled Charles the Fifth to conquer all Europe, if the Reformation had
not strengthened men's minds with a determination to stand up against
oppression.
But the commencement of this century gave no intimation of its
tempestuous course. The first few years saw the peaceable accession to
the thrones of Spain and France and England of the three sovereigns
whose contemporaneous reigns, and also whose personal characters,
had the most preponderating influence on the succeeding current of
events. We have left Spain for a long time out of these general views
of a century's condition and special notices of individual incidents
which affected the condition of the world; for Spain for a long time
lay obscurely between the ocean and the Pyrenees and carried on wars
and policies which were limited by its territorial bounds. But, if we
take a hurried retrospect of the last few years, we shall see that the
different nations contained in the Peninsula had amalgamated into one
mighty and strongly-cemented State. [A.D. 1497.] Ferdinand of Aragon,
by marriage with Isabella of Castile, united the various nationalities
under one homogeneous government, and by wisdom and magnanimity--the
wisdom being the man's and the magnanimity the woman's--had rendered
forever famous the joint reign of husband and wife, had reconciled
the jarring factions of their respective subjects, and seen with
the triumphant faith of believers and the satisfaction of sagacious
rulers the reunion of the last Mohammedan State to the dominion of
the Cross and of the crown. They watched the long, slow march of the
Moorish king and his cavaliers as they took their way in poverty and
despair from the towers and meadows of Granada, which a possession of
seven hundred years had failed to make their own. This--the conquest
of Granada--took place in 1491; and 1516 saw the supreme power over
all united Spain descend on the head of the grandson of Ferdinand and
Isabella,--inheriting, along with their royal dignity, the cautious
wisdom of the one and the wider intelligence of the other. In three
years from that time--it will be easy to remember that Charles's age
is the same as the century's--he was elected to the Imperial crown,
so that the greatest dominion ever held by one man since the days of
Charlemagne now fell to the rule of a youth of nineteen years of age.
Germany, the Netherlands, Naples, Sicily, and Spain, more than equalled
the extent and power of Charlemagne's empire. [A.D. 1520.] But ere
Charles was a year older, vaster dominions than Charlemagne had ever
dreamt of acknowledged his royal sway; for Montezuma, the Emperor of
Mexico, whose realm was without appreciable limit either in size or
wealth, professed himself the subject and servant of the Spanish king.
Henry the Eighth of England had also succeeded at an early age, being
but eighteen in 1509, when the death of his father, the politic and
successful founder of the Tudor dynasty, left him with a people silent
if not quite satisfied, and an exchequer overflowing with what would
now amount to ten or twelve millions of gold. This treasure had been
accumulated by the infamous exactions of the late sovereign, who was
aided in the ignoble service by two men of the names of Empson and
Dudley. These were spies and informers, not, as in other climes and
countries, about the religious or political sentiments of the people,
but about their titles to their estates, the fines they were disposed
to pay, or the bribes they would advance to the royal extortioner to
avoid litigation and injustice. Henry had an admirable opportunity
of showing his hatred of these practices, and availed himself of it
at once. Before he had been four months on the throne, Empson and
Dudley were ignominiously hanged; and with safe conscience, after
this sacrifice at the shrine of legality, he entered into possession
of the pilfered store. The people applauded the rapid decision of his
character in both these instances, and scarcely grudged him the money
when the subordinates were given up to their revenge. They could
not, indeed, grudge their young king any thing; his manners were so
open and sincere, his laugh so ready, and his teeth so white; for we
are not to forget, in compliment to what is facetiously called the
dignity of history, the immense advantages a ruler gains by the fact
of being good-looking. Nobody feels inclined to find fault with a
lad of eighteen, if moderately endowed with health and features; but
when that lad is eminently handsome, rioting in strength and spirits,
open in disposition, and, above all, a king, you need not wonder at
the universal inclination to overlook his faults, to exaggerate his
virtues, and even, after an interval of two hundred and fifty years, to
hear the greatest tyrant of our history, and the worst man perhaps of
his time, talked of by the ordinary title of Bluff King Hal. If he had
been as ugly and hump-backed as his grand-uncle Richard the Third, he
would have been detested from the first.