There were molds for casting rollers that looked much like huge candle

molds. The roller composition was a mixture of glue and molasses,

consistency varying according to the season of the year. It was

more practicable to buy rollers by this time, but homemade rollers

were still cast occasionally. In a near-by village as late as 1889

a four-column folio weekly newspaper was run off--pulled, I should

say--on a hand-lever press, one page at a time, the same method and

almost the same press as that which printed the _Virginia Gazette_, or

the earlier _Saturday Evening Post_, or for that matter all incunabula.

It is quite likely that all the old-time editors of country

newspapers were printers. The tradition no longer holds, but one

apprentice printer in my old shop whose destiny was no doubt

influenced by this early contact with type was John Finley, who

became editor of the country's greatest newspaper. There are still

men, though not so many as there were once, playing important roles

in world affairs who at some time in their lives experienced the

thrill of handling the twenty-four (now twenty-six) potent little lead

soldiers that change the history of the world. No man ever loses that

sense of the importance of printing, or can look upon a printed thing

with indifference, who has once felt it. Nor for that matter does he

ever forget the lay of the case. It is a craft that gets into the

blood.

In 1889 or thereabouts I witnessed a scene which foretold the great

change that was coming to the art I had learned with such patience and

diligence, as revolutionary as the change of shipping from sail to

steam. There arrived and was set up a machine intended to set type.

Its name was Thorne, and its principle was to release the letter

called for when the key was pressed by means of nicks in the body of

the type, like the tumblers of a Yale lock. The type travelled in

the channels to a galley, and was justified by hand, if I remember

rightly. Obviously the device depended upon a hair-trigger nicety of

adjustment. Even the mechanics who came with it had difficulty in

making it work. It jammed repeatedly, and before many hours the floor

was covered with broken sorts. After a few months it was packed up

and sent back, and the old-fashioned method of setting by hand was

reinstated, until that day when that office, like every one of its

class, was equipped with a battery of linotypes. Thus vanished a craft

that had been four hundred years in the making, that uncanny skill

with which a good printer manipulated type.

The tramp printer, with his thirst, his steel setting rule, his budget

of gossip of all the printing offices in a wide territory, has become

extinct. The callous forefinger of the printer is as much a legend as

the miller's sensitive thumb.

VI

Did they print books in those far-away prairie printing offices? They

certainly did. One of the rarest items of Western Americana bears a

Galesburg imprint. A pioneer of that town, a genius who played the

flute and made many inventions, one of them the rotary plow still

used to clear snow from the tracks of western railroads, was Riley

Root. In 1849 he caught the gold fever and made the trip to Oregon and

California over-land in a covered wagon. He had many adventures, and

on his return wrote a book that was printed in Galesburg and is now

a collector's item. A famous Boston book-seller became excited when

he discovered a copy. "Unknown," he wrote in 1932, "to Wagner, Smith,

Cowan, or as far as we know to any other bibliographer of the West,

and unrecorded in the entire run of American Book Prices Current."

The front wrapper reads:

Journal of Travels / from / St. Josephs to Oregon / with /

observations of that country / together with / a Description of

California, / its agricultural interests, / and / a full description /

of / its Gold Mines. / By Riley Root / Galesburg, Ill. / Intelligencer

Print / 1850.

The matter on the wrapper is repeated on the title page with some minor

variations. The book is a substantial pamphlet, size 9-1/2 by 6 inches,

144 pages, uncut. The Boston bookman continues:

"Riley Root's Journal has everything that a rare piece of Western

Americana should have. In the first place, it _looks_ rare. Like

several rare Western items of which only a few copies exist, it was

printed in a small mid-Western town. 'Galesburg, Illinois, 1850' is an

imprint that has charm for the collector."

It must be excessively rare. The only other copy of which I know,

besides the one described, is now appropriately in the Seymour Library

of Knox College. Of this copy the librarian said (when he acknowledged

the gift to the Library in 1931):

"This little unbound pamphlet was written by Riley Root who came with

his family to this prairie country in 1836, when he was 37 years

old, and helped to build the houses of Log City, the forerunner of

Galesburg.... It was printed in Galesburg in 1850 by the 'Intelligencer

Print' and bears in the border of the cover the name of the compositor,

Southwick Davis, who graduated from Knox in the first class--that of

1846. This creditable piece of printing was done only about fourteen

years after Galesburg was staked out and when Knox College was

graduating its fifth class.

"In April 1848 Riley Root left Galesburg to make this over-land

journey, crossing the continent by way of the Oregon Trail to Oregon

City, a distance of 1846 miles from St. Josephs on the Missouri River,

which was regarded as the starting point for the long journey through

the Indian Country. Although gold had been discovered at Sutter's

sawmill in California on February 10th, 1848, nearly two months

before Mr. Root left Galesburg, it is not probable that he learned of

that famous event until he reached Oregon in mid-September. The news

spread slowly even on the Pacific coast, credible reports reaching

San Francisco only in May. Mr. Root says that the excitement ('yellow

fever,' he calls it) began in Oregon about the middle of August, and

that within one month nearly 2,000 persons left Oregon for the gold

fields. The purpose of Mr. Root's over-land journey to Oregon is not

stated, but it would seem from an entry in his diary seven months

after reaching Oregon City, to the effect that he had been 'roaming up

and down the valley, in pursuit of information,' that he was scouting

for new lands on a new frontier. Finding himself in the midst of all

the gold rush 'commotion' he may very well have been attacked by the

'yellow fever' bug himself. At any rate he left Oregon in April, 1849,

just a year after leaving Galesburg, and going to San Francisco and the

California gold fields, spent five months, returning to Illinois by way

of Panama and New Orleans. He arrived in Galesburg, January 8, 1850.

"This little pamphlet records the details of this epic journey, and if

Riley Root's reputation rested on this alone he would take high rank

as a historian. It is extremely well done and is a faithful journal of

not only the day to day happenings, but of the country and its climate,

the wild animals, the Indians, the geology and botany, the mountains,

the forests and streams, and many other features that give evidence of

the observant eye of the author. One interesting and important chapter

relates the harrowing details of the Indian massacre of November,

1847, in which Dr. Marcus Whitman and his wife lost their lives. This

story was supplied to Mr. Root by eye-witnesses and is said to be its

earliest publication in book or pamphlet form."

Among the many changes of ownership of presses in Galesburg, it would

be difficult to decide whether the shop in which I learned my trade was

a descendant of the Intelligencer Print or not, but it was produced in

just such a primitive and resourceful plant.

FOOTNOTES:

[38] _Plain Printing Types_, Theodore L. De Vinne, New York, 1902.

_James Shand_

_AUTHOR AND PRINTER: G.B.S. AND R. & R. C.: 1898-1948_

From _Alphabet and Image_: 8, Winter, 1948. Copyright by Art and

Technics, Ltd. Reprinted by permission of the author and publisher.

[Illustration: Topolski's drawing from the illustrated Penguin

_Pygmalion_.]

Author and printer, publisher and book-seller; these conjunctions

flow too easily from the pen. They cover an immeasurable sum of human

experience, both melancholy and magnificent, in the long history of the

book trade; they should be used with more reserve.

Fortunately for the reader, the writer is no doctor in bibliography

expounding the perils and diseases of textual transmission, but a

typographical reporter, with an interim case-history of a particular

author, a particular printer and a healthy body of work in progress.

Our author is George Bernard Shaw, sometime of Dublin: our printer, R.

& R. Clark, now, as always, of Edinburgh. The association is unique in

more than a geographical sense; in time it covers fifty years; in space

it defies quantitative analysis. Bernard Shaw's quota, if consigned to

the Society of Authors, would probably make that body independent of

the publishing trade for years to come.

Miss Marjorie Plant has pointed out, in her always readable economic

history, _The English Book Trade_, that there was once a time when

"the person who was of no account whatever in the early years of the

book industry was the author." At a later period when the printer was

dominated by book-seller and publisher, Dr. Johnson wrote in _The

Gentleman's Magazine_ in 1739, "We can produce some who threatened

printers with their highest displeasure for having dared to print books

for those who wrote them!"

In the history of English literature the relations of author, printer

and publisher have often been bitter and obscure, posing many problems

in bibliography and textual criticism. Dr. McKerrow, introducing the

literary student to bibliography, suggests that "the best way of

obtaining a clear and lively comprehension of the processes by which

the books of Shakespeare's time were produced" would be by actually

composing a sheet or two in exact facsimile of an Elizabethan quarto

and printing it on a hand-press. "Once he does this," he adds, "he

will find that the material book, apart altogether from its literary

content, can be a thing of surprising interest."

The surprise of Dr. McKerrow's student trying to disentangle the

impositions by which the Penguin edition of more than a million copies

of Shaw's plays were produced on modern perfector printing presses and

automatic folding machines would indeed be considerable. Nevertheless

it is to be doubted whether there are as many bibliographical vagaries

and obscurities in Shaw as in the folios and quartos of Shakespeare.

Certainly there is something of the same fascination in the printing

and production of the "material" books of the later playwright; apart

from the literary antics of an ebullient Irish author with that most

emotional of all romantic characters: seemingly hard-headed Scots

printers.

Since we are presenting the romance of playwright and printer,

without benefit of publisher, let us set our characters in their

dramatic place and scene. The place is Edinburgh; the scene R. & R.

Clark; the principal characters, Edward Clark, Bernard Shaw and William

Maxwell; with a faint echo off-stage from that habitual bankrupt,

Grant Richards, later deserted for the more solid attractions of a

"commissioned" Constable.

[Illustration: Shaw's original shorthand draft of his letter to Maxwell

on the centenary of R. & R. Clark in 1946.]

Professor G. M. Trevelyan, in one of those two brilliant chapters on

Scotland in his _English Social History_, points out that rapidly

developing eighteenth-century Edinburgh "was hardly less important than

London in the British field of letters."

Mr. Stanley Morison, speaking in Edinburgh in 1944 on the subject

of _The Typographic Arts_, pointed out that the first history of

typography ever written for the instruction of the trade was James

Watson's _The Art of Printing_, published in Edinburgh in 1713.[39] A

few years later the Edinburgh book-seller, Alexander Donaldson, who

set up shop in the Strand and put Edinburgh printed classics on sale

at 30 per cent to 50 per cent below the usual prices, was largely

responsible for the creation of a "permanent and enlarged printing and

type-founding industry in Edinburgh." Mr. Morison also asserts that in

the last quarter of the eighteenth century Scotland led the interest in

technicalities of printing.

The first edition of the _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, printed in

Edinburgh in 1771, was brought out by "a Society of Gentlemen of

Scotland." John Bell's _British Poets_ and _British Theatre_ were

printed at the Apollo Press by Gilbert Martin, an Edinburgh printer of

whom Mr. Morison would gladly know more.

"The social, imaginative and intellectual life" of Scotland in the

early nineteenth century centred largely in Edinburgh on Burns and

Scott, Adam Smith and _The Edinburgh Review_. The familiar publisher

names, Ballantyne, Blackwood, Chambers, Constable, Nelson, were also

printers. In type-founding, Miller & Richards' Scotch Roman cut in

1803, and the later Old Style, were widely used throughout the trade,

at home and abroad, right up to the present day.

It was in 1846, six years before Alexander Phemister cut the now

famous Old Style, that Robert Clark, with a loan of £200, laid the

modest foundations of R. & R. Clark. After serving his apprenticeship

in Montrose as compositor and pressman (what is called in the Edinburgh

trade a "twicer") he sought experience in London as a journeyman,

before returning to Edinburgh to start his own business. His London

experience must have been of some value to him because it was not long

before he and his partner, James Kirkwood, had developed an active

business with London publishers: Macmillans, Bentley, John Murray,

Smith Elder, A. & C. Black, amongst others.

Robert Clark's policy of providing fine quality, with conscientious

service at the highest possible price, no doubt contributed to the

financial success of a rapidly developing business which moved to the

present printing works at Brandon Street in 1883. Robert Clark's only

surviving son, Edward, took over sole control after his father's death

in 1894. William Maxwell first appears on the scene at this time,

entering R. & R. Clark as a shorthand writer in 1892.

It was in 1892 that Shaw's first play, _Widowers' Houses_, was

produced; 1898 when _Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant_, published by Grant

Richards, were printed by R. & R. Clark.

Few living authors nowadays can claim continuous direct relations

with one printer over a period of fifty years. Books are now the

product of mechanical composing machines, automatic printing presses,

and mechanized binderies. They require expert control by experienced

production staffs dealing with many different paper-makers, printers

and binders. For this reason alone the printed works of such a

productive author as Bernard Shaw are a remarkable exception to the

general rule in the highly-organized printing and publishing trades.

Commission publishing is the resort of authors whose reputation

guarantees a lucrative circulation and who can afford the necessary

capital. Shaw now deals directly with his printer and binder, buying

and paying for his own composition, machining, paper and binding.

Shaw had always very definite ideas about the format of his books and,

with the complete and friendly co-operation of his present publisher,

has dealt continuously with R. & R. Clark since 1898. Clarks are now

102, Shaw 92, Maxwell 75; this unique association of author and printer

is also a competition in longevity.

[Illustration: Page from the Standard Edition, which began publication

in 1931, in Fournier small pica, 1-1/2 points leaded, large crown

octavo, 5x8 inches.]

The influence of Bernard Shaw on our time has been profound; in

the theatre, in films and in broadcasting. The circulation of his

printed works has been immense. His direct collaboration with his

printer over a long period is of more than professional interest to

publishers, printers and bibliographers. This unique author-printer

relationship provides an unusual aspect for us of the wit, vigour and

working methods of one of the most successful authors and playwrights

of our time; demonstrating also in no uncertain terms the integrity,

craftsmanship and mechanical resource of the printing house of R. & R.

Clark, so soundly based and flexibly developed over the last hundred

years in the solid traditions of the Edinburgh book-printing trade.

In 1946, on the occasion of the centenary of R. & R. Clark, Shaw wrote

of that renowned Edinburgh printing firm, "Ever since it printed my

first plays, _Pleasant and Unpleasant_, in 1898, it has been as natural

a part of my workshop as the pen in my hand." Few printers can ever

have received so eloquent a tribute from so eminent an author.

As a young author, Shaw's experiences with publishers had not been

exactly encouraging. Between 1879 and 1883, as regularly as clockwork,

at the rate of one a year, they rejected all his novels. The climate

in publishing at that time is best described by Shaw himself writing

to Daniel Macmillan in 1943. The letter is quoted in full in Charles

Morgan's _The House of Macmillan_; a small portion bears reprinting

here. After describing how Meredith turned him down for Chatto's

without extenuating circumstances; how Blackwood accepted his first

novel but reneged; how Smith Elder were polite and asked to see future

efforts, Shaw goes on to write: "I am now one of the few who personally

remember the Grand Old Men of the publishing world of that day:

Alexander Macmillan, Longmans and Bentley. They were so powerful that

they held the book-sellers in abject subjection, and were denounced by

Walter Besant and his newly-organized Society of Authors as remorseless

sharks. When they died and were succeeded by their sons, the hereditary

system did not always work as well as it did in Bedford Street; and

the book-sellers got the upper hand. John Murray's Byronic prestige was

so select that I did not dream of trying him until years later, when

I was an author of some note and had already helped to bankrupt three

publishers. I offered him _Man and Superman_. He refused in a letter

which really touched me. He said he was old-fashioned and perhaps a bit

behind the times; but he could not see any intention in my book but to

wound, irritate and upset all established constitutional opinion, and

therefore could not take the responsibility of publishing it. By that

time I could command sufficient capital to finance my books and enter

into direct friendly relations with the printers (this began my very

pleasant relations with Clarks of Edinburgh). I took matters into my

own hands and, like Herbert Spencer and Ruskin, manufactured my books

myself, and induced Constables to take me "on commission."

Sidney and Beatrice Webb sent Shaw to their Edinburgh printer. An

informative and amusing correspondence reprinted at length by Grant

Richards in _Author Hunting_ reveals how he was ruled and educated by

Shaw in the choice of type, "Morris" margins, specimen pages, paper

and other details of production. Holbrook Jackson has pointed out in

an article in number four of _The Fleuron_ that Shaw's books followed

the model of William Morris's _Roots of the Mountains_, printed in

Caslon Old Face at the Chiswick Press in 1892. Shaw, Socialist intimate

and admirer of Morris, was also in close touch with Emery Walker, and

familiar no doubt with the typographical ideas of Morris, Walker and

Cobden-Sanderson, first elaborated in Edinburgh in 1889 at a meeting

of the National Association for the Advancement of Art, and later

published in _Arts and Crafts Essays_ printed in Edinburgh in 1893.

In preliminary discussions of the production of _Plays Pleasant and

Unpleasant_, Shaw insisted on a trade union printer. Grant Richards

doubted whether a union house could do justice to his ideal of the

book beautiful. "I had few notions of what makes a union house," wrote

Grant Richards. "I do not think I had a union house on my list. The

problem shifted to the question of fair wages, and R. & R. Clark were

approved." Shaw, in a letter to Grant Richards in 1897, observed,

"Clark is all right; a first-rate house. I enclose a letter which you

can hold as a certificate of compliance with my fair wages clause."...

Edward Clark doubtless also got much entertainment from his dealings

with a teetotal, non-smoking, vegetarian, Socialist of an author. There

is a story that, on one specimen, Shaw's instructions for close and

mechanically-equal spacing between words were so precisely followed by

the pragmatical Scots, that at the end of some closely spaced lines

the definite article "the" was divided "t-" and "he" turned over, and

the indefinite article "a-" with "n" turned over. Shaw's comment when

returning the specimen, as Maxwell tells the story, was, "Excellent;

but please do not go so far as to prove the author is really a damn

fool." Shaw denies the story; nevertheless, true or untrue, it has a

Shavian flavour.

Shaw's choice of Caslon for his original edition was inevitable. We

know that he picked up the pre-Kelmscott formula ready-made from

William Morris; but, unlike the founding fathers of the private press

movement, he lacked the unearned income to indulge in a privately-cut

type-face. In 1897 we must remember that there were only two text-types

available in most book-houses: Old Style or Modern. More often than

not, before mechanical type-setting, there was not even any choice.

Publisher and author often had to accept the type of which there

happened to be, at any given moment, the greatest amount of "dis."

Shaw's original hand-set page in type-founder's Caslon, long primer

solid, stood up to thirty years' constant use. To our post-war eyes,

conditioned by authorized economy standards, the precise and consistent

setting of the plays, with their even Roman small caps, lower-case

italics in square brackets, with occasional lower-case Roman words

letter-spaced, has considerable nostalgic typographical charm. Here is

sense and sensibility in book-making, well ahead of its typographical

time. Of course, there are many people, William Maxwell and Bernard

Newdigate amongst them, who protested that long primer Caslon set solid

was too small and too difficult to read. But Shaw proved faithful to

his original style and to his original setting until the plates wore

out. He liked a colourful block of letter-press without white "rivers."

He complains that modern printing ink is not black enough.

In the middle twenties when the project of a Limited Collected Edition

was discussed, Shaw still preferred Caslon, but agreed to a larger

size, pica solid, on a larger page, medium octavo. But, and to William

Maxwell it was a considerable but, Shaw specified hand-setting. As

a disciple of William Morris, Shaw objected to setting his books by

machine. Our William from Edinburgh thereafter called on Shaw with

two different specimen pages, one hand-set in original Caslon and one

"machine-justified" in Monotype Caslon. Both were submitted to Shaw

without saying which was which. The suspected Monotype "justification"

was preferred. Maxwell triumphed. Emery Walker, consulted by letter,

also approved the machine-set page.

What a victory for the machine! Or rather, what a subtle example of

Maxwell's typographical tact and persuasiveness! The re-setting of the

whole of Shaw by hand would have been an inexcusable and expensive

drudgery. Maxwell convinced Shaw that the mechanical composing machine

could equal hand-setting in typographical quality and close spacing

between words and sentences.

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