Burton says: “A collector, with a taste for the inaccurate,

_JOHN BASKERVILLE_

[Illustration:

_From a picture after Miller in the National Portrait Gallery, London._

_Emery Walker Ph. x._

_John Baskerville_]

_JOHN

BASKERVILLE_

TYPE-FOUNDER

AND PRINTER

1706-1775

[Illustration]

BY

_Josiah Henry Benton, LL.D._

[Illustration]

BOSTON

_PRIVATELY PRINTED_

1914

_Copyright, 1914, by J. H. Benton_

_D. B. Updike, The Merrymount Press, Boston_

_NOTE_

_I have, for some years, been interested in John Baskerville, and have

collected his imprints. Knowing this fact, the President of the Boston

Society of Printers asked me to prepare a paper on Baskerville, to be

read at a meeting of the Society on February 24, 1914. This I did, and

that paper formed the basis of this little book._

J. H. B.

JOHN BASKERVILLE

John Baskerville, a great English type-founder and printer, was born

in January, 1706, and died in January, 1775, having lived nearly the

full period of threescore years and ten. To understand him and what he

did, we must know something of the time and place in which he lived. It

was a time when the great middle classes of England were coming into

power. The divine right of kings was destroyed at Culloden in 1745.

England was slowly awakening from the deadly languor of the corruption

of Walpole’s government. Whitefield was preaching, and Wesley was

preaching and organizing. The middle classes grew stronger every day

and kept Pitt, with his intense patriotism and extravagance, in power,

in spite of the upper classes. The rule of England in the East began in

1757, when Clive, on June 23, fought the battle of Plassey. Frederick

the Great, aided by the liberal subsidies of Pitt, fought the battle

of Rossbach in November, 1757, and the battle of Minden in November,

1759, thus laying the foundation of the German Empire which has always

been at peace with England. The capture of Montreal in 1760 established

the English ascendancy in the New World. During this period the English

Empire came into being because of the rule of the commercial middle

class.

Birmingham was even then a great middle-class town; a place of about

30,000 inhabitants, noted for its varied manufactures, but more noted

for its freedom, by which it seemed to have the power of attracting

within its boundaries artisans of every trade and every degree of

skill. It accorded almost perfect freedom to all. Dissenters, Baptists,

Methodists, Roman Catholics, Jews, Quakers, and heretics of all sorts

were welcomed, and were undisturbed in their religious observances.

No trades unions, no trade guilds, no companies existed. The system

of apprentices was only partially known. Every man was free to come

and go, to found, or to follow, or to leave a trade, just as he

chose. Birmingham was emphatically the town of free trade, where no

restrictions, commercial or municipal, existed.

Into this community young Baskerville came. It was particularly suited

to him. He was a free thinker. He was active, industrious, inventive,

persistent. He thought out and did new things.[1]

His first occupation, when he was seventeen years old, was that of a

servant in the house of a clergyman, who discovered that Baskerville

was skilled in penmanship and set him to teaching the poor boys in the

parish the art of writing.

The post of writing-master at King Edward’s School in Birmingham fell

vacant, and Baskerville took it and taught writing and bookkeeping

there. In the mean time he had become very much interested in

calligraphy, and turned his skill in writing to the cutting of

stones. Of his actual stone-cutting work only two specimens have

been preserved, the most important of which is in the churchyard

at Edgbaston. There is also a small square slate slab with the

inscription: “Grave Stones Cut in any of the Hands by John Baskervill

Writing Master.” It is to be noted that the final e was not added to

Baskerville’s name until after he became more prosperous. In the fine

lettering of this inscription it is easy to trace the foundation of

those forms of type which Baskerville afterwards used in printing. He

practised writing during the years 1733, 1734, and 1735, being rated

for school taxes at a sixpence.

About the year 1736 one John Taylor came to Birmingham and introduced

japanned ware in the shape of indoor utensils and articles of personal

or other ornament. From the smallest beginnings Taylor created a

business out of which he had acquired a fortune of £200,000 when he

died at the age of fifty-four. To Taylor we owe the gilt button and

gilt snuff-box, the painted snuff-box, and the numerous race of enamels.

Baskerville had a great desire to obtain money, and as he was a good

draughtsman and had a turn for painting, it occurred to him that the

best thing he could do would be to produce goods painted and japanned

as they never had been painted and japanned before. He dropped his

writing-materials and set himself to learn the secrets of japanning.

It is said that he obtained his knowledge of Mr. Taylor’s cheap and

excellent varnish for snuff-boxes, which was a secret, by following him

to every place and shop where he went and ordering precisely the same

species, kind, and quality of articles that he had ordered. He thus

learned not only the ingredients of the varnish, but their proportions.

Baskerville had that which is rare,--business capacity in connection

with artistic taste,--and he soon built up a flourishing business.

In 1749 he carried on a great trade in the japan art, making such

useful things as candlesticks, stands, salvers, waiters, bread-trays,

tea-boards, etc., which were elegantly designed and highly finished.

His ingenuity continually suggested improvements both in the materials

of which he made use and in the methods adopted in the manufacture,

while he had a genius in selecting as workmen those who were best

fitted for their occupation. One of his advertisements reads as

follows: “Any boy of a decent Family who has a Genius and Turn for

Drawing will be taken on trial on moderate terms. Any Painters of

tolerable Abilities may have constant employment.”

In 1742 he obtained a patent for “a new method of making and flat

grinding thin metal plates and of working or fashioning the same by

means of iron rolls and swages.” The plates were japanned and varnished

to “produce fine glowing Mohogony Colour and Black no way inferior to

the most perfect India goods, or an imitation of Tortoise shell which

greatly excels Nature, both in Colour and Hardness.” It will be seen

that this patent embodied to a great extent the same principle that

Baskerville employed in his later treatment of paper. In the japan

business Baskerville competed with Taylor, not so much in making the

things Taylor made as in making better ones and different ones. A

curious thing about Baskerville’s japan work is that no authentic

specimen has come down to us.

In a few years he amassed a considerable fortune in that business.

He took a building lease of eight acres in the northeast part of

Birmingham, to which he gave the name of _Easy Hill_, and there he

built a house at an expense of about £6000, or $30,000, equivalent to

at least $60,000 to-day. This place is described by Alexander Carlyle

as follows: “Baskerville’s house was a quarter of a mile from the town,

and in its way handsome and elegant. What struck us most was his first

kitchen, which was most completely furnished with everything that

could be wanted, kept as clean and bright as if it had come straight

from the shop, for it was used, and the fineness of the kitchen was a

great point in the family, for here they received their company, and

there we were entertained with coffee and chocolate.”[2] Derrick, in

a letter written to the Earl of Cork, July 15, 1760, says: “I need not

remind your Lordship, that Baskerville, one of the best printers in the

world, was born in this town, and resides near it. His house stands

at about half a mile distance, on an eminence that commands a fine

prospect. I paid him a visit, and was received with great politeness,

though an entire stranger. His apartments are elegant; his stair-case

is particularly curious; and the room in which he dines, and calls a

smoking-room is very handsome. The grate and furniture belonging to it

are, I think, of bright wrought iron, and cost him a round sum. He has

just completed an elegant octavo Common Prayer Book, has a scheme for

publishing a grand folio edition of the Bible; and will soon finish

a beautiful collection of Fables, by the ingenious Mr. Dodsley. He

manufactures his own paper, types, and ink; and they are remarkably

good. This ingenious artist carries on a great trade in the japan way,

in which he shewed me several useful articles, such as candlesticks,

stands, salvers, waiters, bread-baskets, tea-boards, &c. elegantly

designed and highly finished. Baskerville is a great cherisher of

genius, which, wherever he finds it, he loses no opportunity of

cultivating. One of his workmen has manifested fine talents for fruit

painting in several pieces which he shewed me.”

A writer in the Birmingham “Daily Mail” of February 3, 1886, thus

describes the Easy Hill residence: “The pasture was luxuriant, great

elm trees shaded the parklike expanse of verdure, an ample fish-pond

stretched away westwards, and a picturesque disused windmill standing

upon a slight elevation was ready to be converted into the most

captivating of summer houses.... Of the house which he built for

himself we have engravings, and as many remains as one would care to

preserve of that particular style of architecture.”

Hutton, the historian of Birmingham, says Baskerville previously lived

at No. 22 in Moor-street, and that having obtained a building lease,

“two furlongs north of the town, he converted it into a little Eden,

and built a house in the center; but the town, as if conscious of his

merit, followed his retreat, and surrounded it with buildings....

Here he continued the business of a japanner for life: his carriage,

each pannel of which was a distinct picture, might be considered

the _pattern-card of his trade_, and was drawn by a beautiful pair

of cream-coloured horses.” This chariot was one of the wonders of

Birmingham, one section richly gilt and painted with little naked

cupids and flowers, drawn by two cream-colored horses with net hangings

almost to the ground. The panels were said to be each in the nature of

a picture, got up Japan-wise.[3] He became High Bailiff of Birmingham

in 1761. His duties were to inspect the market and rectify weights and

dry measures; also to make proclamation of two fairs each year; and to

give a dinner to the other municipal officers, at which it is said that

an expense of £40 was incurred. This dinner was intended for business,

but, in the quaint language of the historian of the time, “It was too

early to begin business till the table was well stored with bottles,

and too late afterwards.” He affected clothes of the most gorgeous

description. His favorite dress was said to have been green, edged with

a narrow gold lace, a scarlet waistcoat with a very broad gold lace,

and a small round hat likewise edged with lace. It is said that he

attended a funeral in a new suit of bright colors and gold lace.

All this show created a suspicion in the public mind that Baskerville

was in financial trouble, so that at one time he published a refutation

of some charges of that kind in the Birmingham “Gazette.” He sought to

find the author of the charges, declaring that “Whoever can discover

the author, or give a clue by which he may be traced, will by informing

me lay me under the highest obligations of gratitude.”

In these letters he said that he had “often wished an additional

Article in the Litany for the Use of Tradesmen,--From Bad Debts and

Bankrupts, Good Lord deliver us.”

A Mrs. Eaves went to live at Easy Hill about 1750. She took her

two daughters, and very likely her son, with her. She had made an

unfortunate marriage with one Richard Eaves, who, “having been found

guilty of some fraudulent practices in regard to a relation’s will, was

obliged to quit the kingdom.”[4] Her husband left her without money

or any means of support. Baskerville became interested in her, and

she went to his house probably as a housekeeper. Shortly afterwards

Baskerville and she were living together as man and wife. Although

her husband was not known to be dead, she passed as Mrs. Baskerville.

She accompanied him to London to visit Dodsley, and was everywhere

received as his wife. It does not appear that his social position in

Birmingham was at all impaired by this connection. He was very kind and

attentive to Mrs. Eaves, and when Eaves died, Baskerville married the

widow in June, 1764. They had one son, who died in infancy. Baskerville

was inconsolable, and in a letter to Franklin gave the death of his

son as one of the reasons for desiring to sell his type in France. He

said: “Let the reason of my parting with it be the death of my son and

intended successor.”

When Baskerville began the work that made him famous, he was a

middle-aged man, fifty years old, who had amassed a large fortune,

and was living in quiet comfort on his own estate. He was carrying

on a very large and lucrative japanning business, which he continued

to conduct during his life. He was a person of much consequence in

Birmingham when he took up the matter of type-founding and printing.

As for Baskerville’s private character, we have the accounts of his

friends and of his critics, and it is not easy to come to a just

conclusion. Hutton, in his “History of Birmingham,”[5] says: “In

private life he was a humorist; idle[6] in the extreme; but his

invention was of the true Birmingham model, active. He could well

design, but procured others to execute; wherever he found merit he

caressed it: he was remarkably polite to the stranger; fond of shew:

a figure rather of the smaller size, and delighted to adorn that

figure with gold lace.... Although constructed with the light timbers

of a frigate, his movement was solemn as a ship of the line. During

the twenty-five years I knew him, though in the decline of life, he

retained the singular traces of a handsome man. If he exhibited a

peevish[7] temper, we may consider good nature and intense thinking are

not always found together. Taste accompanied him through the different

walks of agriculture, architecture, and the finer arts. Whatever passed

through his fingers, bore the lively marks of John Baskerville.”

Chambers, in his “Biographical Illustrations of Worcestershire,” gives

an interesting sketch of Baskerville, in which his will is printed with

the exception of those portions where, as, Mr. Chambers regrets to

say, Baskerville “unblushingly avows not only his disbelief of, but

his contempt for revealed religion, and that in terms too gross for

repetition.” Chambers was evidently not a partial critic. He records

the fact that Mr. Noble,[8] who well remembered Baskerville, says he

taught his respected father to write, and he maintained an acquaintance

with him as long as he lived. “I have been very often with him to

Baskerville’s house, and found him ever a most profane wretch, and

ignorant of literature to a wonderful degree. I have seen many of his

letters, which, like his will, were not written grammatically; nor

could he even spell well. In person, he was a shrivelled old coxcomb.

His favourite dress was green, edged with a narrow gold lace, a scarlet

waistcoat, with a very broad gold lace; and a small round hat, likewise

edged with gold lace. His wife was all that affectation can describe:

she lived with him in adultery many years. She was originally a

servant: such a pair are rarely met with. He had wit; but it was always

at the expense of religion and decency, particularly if in company

with the clergy. I have often thought there was much similarity in his

person to Voltaire, whose sentiments he was ever retailing.”

Mr. Paterson, in a letter in Nichols’s “Literary Anecdotes,” wrote:

“I could give you also a note on Baskerville, to demonstrate that he

knew very little of the execution of typography beyond the common

productions which are to be found every day in Paternoster-row, and

therefore, in a comparative view, might readily conclude that he had

outstript them all.” But, adds Chambers, “Dibdin, whose judgment in

these matters few will call in question, says that ‘Rowe Mores, in his

abuse of Baskerville, exhibits the painful and perhaps mirth-provoking

efforts of a man kicking against the thorns. Baskerville was a

wonderful creature as an artist, but a vain and silly man.’”

Many lies were told about Baskerville and his work.

The following from the “European Magazine” (December, 1785, page

463) is a fair sample. A correspondent, whose name is not disclosed,

but who signs himself _Viator_, makes the following statement, to

which Mr. Chambers gives place in his “Biographical Illustrations of

Worcestershire:” “I was acquainted with Baskerville, the printer, but

cannot wholly agree with the extracts concerning him, from Hutton’s

History of Birmingham. It is true he was very ingenious in mechanics,

but it is also well known he was extremely illiterate, and his jokes

and sarcasms on the Bible, with which his conversation abounded, shewed

the most contemptible ignorance of eastern history and manners, and

indeed of every thing. His quarto edition of Milton’s Paradise Lost,

with all its splendour, is a deep disgrace to the English press. He

could not spell himself, and knew not who could. A Warwickshire country

schoolmaster, of some parish charity school, we presume, was employed

by him to correct this splendid edition, and that dunce has spelt many

words in it according to the vulgar Warwickshire pronunciation. For

example, many of the western vulgar clap an _h_ to every word beginning

with an open vowel, or even the _w_, as _hood_ for _wood_, my _harm_

for my _arm_, _heggs_ for _eggs_, &c., &c., and again as viciously

dropping the _h_ in verbs, as _ave_ for _have_, _as_ for _has_, &c.,

&c. Many instances of this horrid ignorance we find in the ingenious

Baskerville’s splendid Milton, where _as_ is often put for the verb

_has_, and _has_ for the conjunction _as_, with several others of

this worse than _cockney_ family. Nor can I by any means agree with

Mr. Hutton that ‘it is to the lasting discredit of the British nation

that no purchaser could be found for his types.’--What was the merit

of his printing?--His paper was of a finer gloss, and his ink of a

brighter black than ordinary; his type was thicker than usual in the

thick strokes, and finer in the fine, and was sharpened at the angles

in a novel manner; all these combined gave his editions a brilliant

rich look, when his pages were turned lightly over; but when you sit

down to read them, the eye is almost immediately fatigued with the

gloss of the paper and ink, and the sharp angles of the type; and it

is universally known that Baskerville’s printing is _not_ read; that

the better sort of the London printing is infinitely preferable for

USE, and even for real sterling elegance. The Universities and London

booksellers therefore are not to be blamed for declining the purchase

of Baskerville’s types, which we are told were bought by a Society at

Paris, where tawdry silk and tinsel is preferred to the finest English

broad cloth, or even Genoa velvet.”[9]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

This spiteful story has thus been in type and reproduced in one form

and another for more than a hundred years. Nobody appears to have

questioned it, and yet it is false, and maliciously so. An examination

of the quarto edition of Milton’s “Paradise Lost” shows that “as”

is never put for the verb “has,” and “has” is never put for the

conjunction “as.” There is no such word in the book as “eggs,” and no

such combination of words as “my arm.” It is impossible to find there

the mistakes which _Viator_ says are in this book and make it “a deep

disgrace to the English press.”

For some reason, probably because he did better work than other

printers, and produced books without so much regard to profit as they

were obliged to consider, Baskerville’s work was very much criticised

by other printers in his time. Dr. Bedford said: “By Baskerville’s

specimen of his types you will perceive how much the elegance of

them is owing to the paper, which he makes himself as well as the

types and the ink also; I was informed that whenever they come to be

used by common pressmen and common materials they lose their beauty

considerably.” It is now certain that he did not make his paper.

Certainly he made it for no books except Virgil and the Milton. Rowe

Mores,[10] in “English Typographical Founders and Founderies,” 1778

(page 86), said: “Mr. Baskerville of Birmingham, that enterprizing

place, made some attempts at letter-cutting, but desisted and with good

reason. The Greek cut by him, or his, for the University of Oxford is

execrable. Indeed, he can hardly claim a place amongst letter-cutters.

His typographical excellence lay more in his trim, glossy paper to dim

the sight.” In a note upon this passage John Nichols said: “The idea

entertained by Mr. Mores of the ingenious Mr. Baskerville is certainly

a just one. His glossy paper and too sharp type offend the patience of

a reader more sensibly than the innovations I have already censured.”

Nichols was a rival printer. He was apprenticed to William Bowyer, of

whom he was an executor and the residuary legatee. All his prejudices

were against Baskerville and his work. He wrote many books, but they

were mostly by hirelings, the blunders only being his own. He reached

the summit of his ambition when he became Master of the Stationers’

Company in 1804.

The following letter from Franklin explains the prejudice and ignorance

with respect to Baskerville’s work: “Let me give you a pleasant

instance of the prejudice some have entertained against your work.

Soon after I returned, discoursing with a gentleman concerning the

artists of Birmingham, he said you would be the means of blinding all

the readers of the nation, for the strokes of your letters being too

thin and narrow, hurt the eye, and he could never read a line of them

without pain. ‘I thought,’ said I, ‘you were going to complain of the

gloss on the paper some object to.’ ‘No, no,’ said he, ‘I have heard

that mentioned, but it is not that; it is in the form and cut of the

letters themselves, they have not that height and thickness of the

stroke which makes the common printing so much more comfortable to the

eye.’ You see this gentleman was a connoisseur. In vain I endeavoured

to support your character against the charge; he knew what he felt,

and could see the reason of it, and several other gentlemen among his

friends had made the same observation, etc. Yesterday he called to

visit me, when, mischievously bent to try his judgement, I stepped into

my closet, tore off the top of Mr. Caslon’s Specimen, and produced it

to him as yours, brought with me from Birmingham saying, I had been

examining it, since he spoke to me, and could not for my life perceive

the disproportion he mentioned, desiring him to point it out to me.

He readily undertook it, and went over the several founts, showing

me everywhere what he thought instances of that disproportion; and

declared that he could not then read the specimen without feeling very

strongly the pain he had mentioned to me. I spared him that time the

confusion of being told, that these were the types he had been reading

all his life, with so much ease to his eyes; the types his adored

Newton is printed with, on which he has pored not a little; nay the

very types his own book is printed with (for he himself is an author),

and yet never discovered the painful disproportion in them, till he

thought they were yours.”

Burton says: “A collector, with a taste for the inaccurate, might

easily satiate it in the editions, so attractive in their deceptive

beauty, of the great Birmingham printer, Baskerville.”[11] Reed says:

“Despite the splendid appearance of his impressions, the ordinary

English printers viewed with something like suspicion the meretricious

combination of sharp type and hot-pressed paper which lent to his

sheets their extraordinary brilliancy. They objected to the dazzling

effect thus produced on the eye; they found fault with the unevenness

of tone and colour in different parts of the same book, and even

discovered an irregularity and lack of symmetry in some of his types,

which his glossy paper and bright ink alike failed to disguise.”[12]

Both these statements are obviously untrue. An examination of

Baskerville’s books shows that they are accurate, or at least the

inaccuracies are only those of the editions from which they are

reprinted, and the combination of paper, ink, and type is necessary to

make a really fine book.

“In private life,” Reed remarks, “he was a bundle of paradoxes. He was

an exemplary son, and an affectionate, judicious husband, but full of

personal animosities.... In person he was a shrivelled old coxcomb, but

in spirit he was a worker of unquenchable energy. Peevish in temper,

he was a charming host.... The one thing that reconciled all was his

strong personality. Whatever else he was he was never commonplace.”

“He was one of those men,” says a writer in the “Secular Review,”

“who strove for excellence, and was not satisfied until he obtained

it. Whatever he undertook to do he not only did well, but better than

his predecessors, and he was in truth a genuine national reformer.”

The editor of the “Beauties of Worcestershire” calls Baskerville “a

most useful and _estimable character_,” and says he was of an “ancient

family, as old as the Conquest.” This may be taken with some salt.

Perhaps the best evidence of the sort of man he was is found in the

impression that he made upon the most eminent men of his time, by the

thoroughness and energy of his life, his originality of taste, his fine

pride in perfect work, his stoutness of courage, and his honorable

impartiality in printing works with which he coincided, and those which

represented the religious views of his countrymen from which he himself

dissented.[13]

Dr. Carlyle thus speaks of a visit to him: “We passed the day in

seeing the Baskerville press, and Baskerville himself, who was a great

curiosity.... Baskerville was on hand with his folio Bible at this

time, and Garbett insisted on being allowed to subscribe for Home and

Robertson. Home’s absence afflicted him, for he had seen and heard

of the tragedy of _Douglas_. Robertson hitherto had no name, and the

printer said bluntly that he would rather have one subscription to

his work of a man like Mr. Home, than an hundred ordinary men. He

dined with us that day, and acquitted himself so well that Robertson

pronounced him a man of genius, while James Adam and I thought him but

a prating pedant.”[14] Kippis adds “his own testimony concerning Mr.

Baskerville’s politeness to strangers, and the cheerful hospitality

with which he treated those who were introduced to him. He was well

known to many ingenious men.”

Baskerville belonged to the literary club in Birmingham, called the

“Luna Club,” which used to meet on the nights of the full moon, so that

the members might have a light to go home by. Hence the name of the

members--“the Lunaticks.” It had among its members many most famous

men. Wedgwood, the potter; Dr. Erasmus Darwin, the poet; Thomas Day,

author of “Sanford and Merton;” Sir William Herschel, the astronomer;

Sir Joseph Banks, the naturalist; Samuel Galton; Dr. Withering, the

botanist and physician to the General Hospital at Birmingham; and

others of like character were all members of it.

Baskerville had his own taste about the printing and decoration of his

books. When Dodsley sent a plate to him to be included in a volume he

was printing, Baskerville told him that his own taste would not permit

him to use the plate. He said: “If you will accept my judgment and

skill, it is at your service.”[15] In fact, Baskerville always had his

own way, and did things as he wished to do them, and whatever credit

there is for his productions is due to him alone. Tedder says that

“his social virtues were considerable--a good son, an affectionate

father and kinsman, polite and hospitable to strangers--he was entirely

without the jealousy commonly ascribed to the artist and inventor.

Birmingham has contributed many distinguished men to the industrial

armies of England; but there are few of whom she has more reason to

be proud than the skilful genius who was at once the British Aldus

Manutius and the finest printer of modern times.”[16]

He was very intimate with Dodsley, the bookseller, a man of great

property and of irreproachable character, who stayed with him when in

Birmingham, and with whom Baskerville stayed when he was in London.[17]

His correspondence with Shenstone is quite voluminous, and with

Benjamin Franklin he had very excellent relations. Franklin visited

him in Birmingham, advised him in his printing affairs, and in the

proposed sale of his type when he was about to give up business. It is

not likely, if he had been profane and ignorant, that he would have

remained on such terms with such people. The trouble seems to have

been that he refused to put himself on a par with other printers, and

insisted that he did much better work than anybody else; this of course

brought the whole clamjamfrie down on him.

Baskerville had probably very little taste for letters as such. He

printed the books which, in the estimation of the public, were most

important. He was a type-founder and printer, not a scholar. He printed

Bibles and Prayer Books not because he believed in Christianity, but

because they were the books which everybody used and which he thought

warranted the most effective treatment. I think he can hardly be

said to have printed a book which represented his ideas, unless it

be Shaftesbury’s “Characteristicks,” which was brought out in 1773,

and is a beautiful specimen of his printing. He admired the satire of

“Hudibras” and was fond of quoting it, and as Shenstone says, “was

seized with a violent inclination to publish ‘Hudibras,’ his favorite

poem, in a pompous quarto in an entire new set of cuts.” He liked

Voltaire, and is said to have quoted him constantly. He sent copies of

the editions of Virgil and Milton to Voltaire at Ferney, and proposed

to him to print some work of his. Voltaire replied in English, “I

thank you earnestly for the honour you do me. I send you an exemplary

by the way of Holland.” Baskerville set up some sheets from the copy

which was sent him and returned them to Voltaire, who replied, “The old

scribbler to whom you have been so kind as to send your magnificent

editions of Virgil and Milton thanks you heartily. He will send you as

soon as possible his poor sheets duly corrected. They stand in great

need of it.”[18] Beyond this fondness for “Hudibras” and admiration

for Voltaire, we have nothing to show that Baskerville cared anything

for letters. He was artistic, but at the same time mercenary and

vain. He meant to print books such as had never been printed, and he

expected that people would buy them and pay the expense. When they did

not, he became disgusted and gave up the work for two or three years.

Then, spurred into action by the attempt of Boden, a rival printer in

Birmingham, to print a Bible, he came again into the field and printed

some of his finest works. But all the time he was in bad temper because

his books cost him so much money and he got so little back. He wrote

Walpole that he should be obliged to sell his little patrimony, that he

had borrowed £2000 to print the Cambridge Bible. He continually looked

out for little expenses. In a letter to Dodsley he says, “As you are in

the Land of Franks, half a Doz would do me a peculiar pleasure, as a

good many things not worth a Groat might be communicated by, &c.” He

was excessively self-confident. He considered himself different from

others. He thought that whatever was brought into being by Baskerville

was therefore a fine thing, and truth compels us to say he was probably

right. His japan work was better than that of any one else, and his

printing was the finest that England had seen or has since seen.

So much for Baskerville the man. We have now to see what he did as a

type-founder and printer.

* * * * *

At the beginning of the century there was no real type foundry in

England. Nearly all the type used was imported from Holland, but

in 1737 Samuel Caslon, who was a gunsmith’s apprentice, issued a

specimen sheet of his founts of type, and after that England could

depend upon her own resources for types. William Caslon, brother to

Samuel, afterward lived with a Birmingham type-maker named William

Anderton, who printed a little specimen of Great Primer, Roman and

Italic. Baskerville probably became acquainted with Anderton. At any

rate, there is here an explanation of the way in which the japanner’s

interest became aroused in the designing and making of founts of type

for purposes of printing. Much of the beauty of type depends upon

the printer, and therefore Baskerville soon came to see that he must

print with the types which he cut. From the very commencement of his

experiments in type-founding he was determined to occupy himself both

with type-founding and printing. It also occurred to him to introduce

a new kind of paper which had been finished in a certain way. In a

word, he wished to use processes for books very similar to those which

he had used for his japanned goods. His proposals, therefore, took

the following shape. There was to be a new typography, and for its

introduction four points were to be considered: First, the character of

the types themselves; secondly, the press; thirdly, the paper and ink;

and lastly, the actual mode of printing.

It is fortunate that in the preface to the second book which

Baskerville printed--Milton’s “Paradise Lost”--he took the world

into his confidence. It is the only preface written by him. He said:

“AMONGST the several mechanic Arts that have engaged my attention,

there is no one which I have pursued with so much steadiness and

pleasure, as that of _Letter-Founding_. Having been an early admirer of

the beauty of Letters, I became insensibly desirous of contributing to

the perfection of them. I formed to my self Ideas of greater accuracy

than had yet appeared, and have endeavoured to produce a _Sett_ of

_Types_ according to what I conceived to be their true proportion.

“_Mr. Caslon_ is an Artist, to whom the Republic of Learning has great

obligations; his ingenuity has left a fairer copy for my emulation,

than any other master. In his great variety of _Characters_ I intend

not to follow him; the _Roman_ and _Italic_ are all I have hitherto

attempted; if in these he has left room for improvement, it is probably

more owing to that variety which divided his attention, than to any

other cause. I honor his merit, and only wish to derive some small

share of Reputation, from an Art which proves accidentally to have been

the object of our mutual pursuit.

“After having spent many years, and not a little of my fortune in

my endeavours to advance this art; I must own it gives me great

Satisfaction, to find that my Edition of _Virgil_ has been so favorably

received. The improvement in the Manufacture of the _Paper_, the

_Colour_, and _Firmness_ of the _Ink_ were not overlooked; nor did

the accuracy of the workmanship in general, pass unregarded. If the

judicious found some imperfections in the _first attempt_, I hope

the present work will shew that a proper use has been made of their

Criticisms: I am conscious of this at least, that I received them as I

ever shall, with that degree of deference which every private man owes

to the Opinion of the public.

“It is not my desire to print many books; but such only, as are _books_

of _Consequence_, of _intrinsic merit_, or _established Reputation_,

and which the public may be pleased to see in an elegant dress, and

to purchase at such a price, as will repay the extraordinary care

and expence that must necessarily be bestowed upon them. Hence I was

desirous of making an experiment upon some one of our best English

Authors, among those _Milton_ appeared the most eligible. And I

embrace with pleasure the opportunity of acknowledging in this public

manner the generosity of _Mr. Tonson_; who with singular politeness

complimented me with the privilege of printing an entire Edition of

that _Writers Poetical Works_.

“In the execution of this design, if I have followed with exactness

the Text of _Dr. Newton_, it is all the merit of _that kind_ which

I pretend to claim. But if this performance shall appear to persons

of judgment and penetration, in the _Paper_, _Letter_, _Ink_ and

_Workmanship_ to excel; I hope their approbation may contribute to

procure for me what would indeed be the extent of my Ambition, a power

to print an Octavo _Common-Prayer Book_, and a FOLIO BIBLE.

“Should it be my good fortune to meet with this indulgence, I wou’d

use my utmost efforts to perfect an Edition of them with the greatest

Elegance and Correctness; a work which I hope might do some honor to

the English Press, and contribute to improve the pleasure, which men of

true taste will always have in the perusal of those _sacred Volumes_.”

This preface shows clearly the purpose with which Baskerville entered

upon type-founding and printing. He desired to advance this art, not

by printing many books, but only books of consequence or established

reputation, which the public would be pleased to see in an elegant

dress, and would, as he thought, be glad to purchase at such a price as

would repay the “extraordinary care and expence that must necessarily

be bestowed upon them.” He did not print for the many, but only for the

few, and he was sanguine enough to believe that the few would pay for

the books which he printed a price sufficient to reimburse him for his

expense.

Fortunately he obtained an artist for cutting the punches--John

Handy--who worked well with him, and yet with Handy to help him, days,

months, and years passed before a single fount was completed. It was

not until 1752 that he was able to report progress with a fount of

Great Primer.

About this time Baskerville became acquainted with the poet Shenstone,

and also met with the London publisher and playwright, Robert Dodsley,

who became a great admirer of Baskerville’s work.

During 1750 and until about the autumn of 1752, Baskerville quietly

proceeded with his type foundry, and in this time the apparatus for

printing was being set up in his house. He spent some six or eight

hundred pounds upon the types. Of these he said in a letter to Dodsley:

“They please me, as I can make nothing more correct. You will observe

they strike the eye much more sensibly than the smaller characters. The

R wants a few slight touches, and the Y half an hour’s correction. We

have resolutely set about 13 of the same sized italic capitals, which

will not be inferior to the Roman, and I doubt not to complete them in

a fortnight.” Then he adds, indicating that the time for publishing the

Virgil had been already set: “You need be in no pain about our being

ready by the time appointed.” Baskerville was not to be hurried. He did

his work regardless of time and, to an extent, of money. In a later

letter, in 1753, he said: “You may depend upon my being ready by your

time (Christmas), but if more time could be allowed I should make use

of it all in correcting and justifying. So much depends on appearing

perfect on first starting.”

Of course, the initial labor in preparing type was immense: “He had

at first to design his model alphabet letter by letter, so that each

letter should bear its due relation to the other letters, on a scale

of absolute proportion. The design fixed, the next step was to decide

the particular size on which he would begin.... Then came the critical

manual operation of cutting each letter separately in relief, on steel,

to form the punch.... Each punch would then have to be hardened and

struck into copper to form the matrix, and each matrix would need to

be justified and adjusted to the type mould, so as to produce a type

not only an xact counterpart of the punch, but absolutely square with

every other letter of the fount.... The moulds for casting the type

... would have to be constructed each of a large number of separate

pieces of iron and wood, fitted together with the most delicate

precision, so that every type would come out uniform in height and

body. When matrixes and moulds were ready the operation of casting

would ensue.... The types would require dressing before they could be

used: a delicate operation, consisting in the smoothing away of every

chance irregularity left by the casting, without interfering with the

mathematical height and squareness of the letter.”[19] Then there were

the press and the ink.

Baskerville constructed his own presses. From the beginning, even as

early as 1752, he had a press in operation on which he printed his

specimens. He wrote to Dodsley: “I have with great pains justified the

plate for the Platten & Stone on which it falls, so that they are as

perfect planes as it will ever be in my Power to procure, for instance,

if you Rest one End of yr plate in the Stone & let the other fall the

height of an inch; it falls soft as if you dropped it on feathers or

several folds of silk, and when you raise it, you manifestly feel it

such (if you’ll excuse so unphilosophical a term). Wet the two and

either would support the other with a couple of 500 weights added to

it, if held perpendicularly. To as perfect a plane I will endeavour to

bring the faces of the type if I have time. Nor do I despair of better

ink & printing (the character must speak for itself) than has hitherto

been seen.”

He said in a letter to France, that the presses were exactly of the

same construction as other people’s, but that he had made them better,

especially in the stone and the platen, all of which could be done with

a person who gave attention to it; and that in printing he used but

one double of finest flannel, other people used two or three double of

thick swanskin; and for a description and drawing of his presses he

referred to Palmer’s “History of Printing,” and “The History and Art

of Printing,” by Luckombe, in which he said there was a print of every

part of the press.

[Illustration: HAND-PRESS SUCH AS WAS USED BY BASKERVILLE

_From Luckombe’s “History and Art of Printing”_]

Baskerville appears to have kept a large number “of hot plates of

copper ready, between which, as soon as printed (aye, as they were

discharged from the tympan) the sheets were inserted; the wet was

thus expelled, the ink set, and the trim glossy surface put on all

simultaneously.”[20] The peculiar gloss which characterizes the

productions of the Baskerville Press is to be found in no other books

of the eighteenth century.

Again, as to ink, a black in an impure state had been used by printers

for nearly two hundred years, and it was not until Baskerville that any

attention was turned to this most essential article. It was reserved

for him to discover a superior kind of black for the purpose required.

Hansard thinks that to this success may be attributed, in a great

measure, the excellence of his printing.

Hansard gives the recipe of Baskerville’s ink: “He took of the

finest and oldest linseed oil three gallons, this was put into a

vessel capable of holding four times the quantity, and boiled with a

long-continued fire till it acquired a certain thickness or tenacity,

according to the quality of the work it was intended to print, and

which was judged of by putting small quantities upon a stone to cool,

and then taking it up between the finger and thumb; on opening which,

if it drew into a thread an inch long or more, it was considered

sufficiently boiled. This mode of boiling can only be acquired by long

practice, and requires particular skill and care in the person who

superintends the operation, as, for want of this, the most serious

consequences ... have very frequently occurred; the oil thus prepared

was suffered to cool, and had then a small quantity of black or amber

rosin dissolved in it, after which it was allowed some months to

subside; it was then mixed with the fine black, before named, to a

proper thickness, and ground for use.”[21]

The lamp-black of commerce is crude and impure, but for two hundred

years it satisfied the makers of printing-ink, who made no improvement

in their ink. “It was not until the days of the celebrated Baskerville

... that any attention was turned to this most essential article....

It was reserved for him to discover ... a superior kind of black, ...

and to this success it is said that the superiority of his printing may

be attributed.”[22] Certain it is that it stimulated rivalry in the

trade, and a few out of many other attempts to improve were partially

successful.

Finally there was the text. Baskerville wrote Dodsley his scheme for

obtaining absolutely correct texts of the works he was about to print,

as follows: “’Tis this. Two people must be concerned; the one must

name every letter, capital, point, reference, accent, etc., that is,

in English, must spell every part of every word distinctly, and note

down every difference in a book prepared on purpose. Pray oblige me

in making the experiment with Mr. James Dodsley in four or five lines

of any two editions of an author, and you’ll be convinced that it’s

scarcely possible for the least difference, even of a point, to escape

notice. I would recommend and practise the same method in an English

author, where most people imagine themselves capable of correcting.

Here’s another great advantage to me in this humble scheme; at the

same time that a proof sheet is correcting, I shall find out the least

imperfection in any of the Types that has escaped the founder’s notice.”

“Meanwhile he had laboured assiduously to complete his promised series

of the Roman and Italic faces. At the time of the publication of the

Virgil, he put forward a quarto sheet containing specimens of the Great

Primer, English, Pica, and Brevier Roman, and Great Primer and Pica

Italic, beautifully printed. This sheet, which is noted by Renouard,

and which is occasionally found bound up with copies of the Virgil, was

very shortly followed, about the end of the year 1758, by a larger and

more general specimen, consisting entirely of Roman and Italic letter

in eight sizes, viz.:--Double Pica, Great Primer, English, Pica, Small

Pica, Long Primer, Bourgeois, and Brevier. Of the last two, Roman only

is shown. The whole is arranged in two columns on a broadside sheet,

with appropriate titlings, and forms a beautiful display. Although the

only copy we have seen is printed on a greenish paper, somewhat coarse,

the specimen exceeds in elegance and uniformity most, if not all, the

productions of contemporary founders.”[23]

The Virgil was then advertised as follows: “John Baskerville proposes,

by the advice and assistance of several learned men, to print from the

Cambridge Edition, corrected with all possible care, an elegant edition

of Virgil. The work will be printed in quarto, on a very fine writing

Royal paper, and with the above letter. The price of the Volume in

sheets will be one guinea, no part of which will be required till the

Book is delivered. It will be put to press as soon as the number of

subscribers shall amount to five hundred, whose names will be prefixt

to the work.”

Finally, after many delays caused by the desire of Baskerville to have

the book perfect, the Virgil went to press in 1757, after seven years

of careful, patient, persistent work upon it. It was a surprise to the

literary world. It was the first fine book printed in England,--the

first of those magnificent editions which, as Macaulay said, “went

forth to astonish all the librarians of Europe.”[24] Every part

of the volume was in harmony with every other part. There was no

disproportion. The book has been well said to be a landmark in the

history of typography. In looking at it to-day we wonder how it was

done when it was done. It seems as though the Birmingham artist had

come before his time.

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