Pecuniary Troubles.--An Expedient.--Disappointment.--The Jewels.--A
Sale.--Apprentices.--Visit to the Cathedral.--A New Enterprise.
Gutenberg’s gratifying success was not devoid of trial, as has been
hinted. In his hasty flight from Mentz, he had little money with him,
and years of embarrassment followed, despite his diligence in business
and economy. His mother’s remittances had been carefully husbanded; but
since engaging in block-printing, this store had wasted away.
How could he retrieve his losses, and gain means to bring out other
discoveries? He revolved the matter while Anna slept, and, rising with
early dawn, took impressions of the “St. Christopher.” At breakfast he
told his wife of his purpose to sell them to his neighbors. She warmly
approved, and offered to arrange them in the shop, greatly to the
relief of Gutenberg, who answered with emotion,
“So thoughtful of thee, my Anna; and our necessity urgeth speedy sales.”
“Aye, they shall beautify the shop,” said the little lady as she
arranged the cuts, placing one here, another there, and viewing the
effect of the light, and hied her to the adjoining room, just when Mrs.
Anna Schultheiss stepped into the shop on her way home from market. Her
dowry jewels were being reset, and she was anxious to get them.
“My jewels not done yet!” she exclaimed, “All, indeed, master, and how
can I go to the marriage-feast, wanting them?”
“Be content, mistress,” replied Gutenberg; “thou shall have them at
sunset.”
“Thanks, good master; but what pictures are these?” glancing around
the room as she spoke. As he passed one for her inspection, she cried:
“Mirabile! the good saint! See him bearing the infant Jesus over the
water. How could the child have forded the stream without him? Wrap
the picture nicely, and I will take it home with me. My husband is a
formschneider, and thou mayst need his aid.” Gutenberg crimsoned, but
gave her the cut on her own terms, and she bore it away with delight.
When next a neighbor called, and after admiring the prints, purchased
one, the inventor breathed more freely; and the lively sound of his
graving tools soon indicated how greatly encouragement lightened his
toil.
Others, however, calling to purchase gems, chose the pictures. At the
evening meal Anna was radiant, and congratulated her husband that the
pictures found a ready sale.
“Nevertheless, I have lost money to-day,” replied he, a little
depressed.
“Ah! and how did it happen?”
“Those who purchased prints had purposed to buy gems, and a fair
estimation makes me the loser. The pictures draw attention from my
jewels and mirrors, and do not return an equivalent. I fear the two
pursuits will so conflict as to prevent success with either!”
Anna was illy prepared for this intelligence, and urged, “But thou wilt
do better when used to both labors. Moreover, I can aid thee. Did I not
arrange the cuts? And when the wood-carrier admired my print, did I not
sell him one, and allow him to bring wood in payment?”
“Thou hast well earned a benediction,” returned the husband, smiling.
“When dost thou go to Nôtre Dame Cathedral?” asked Anna.
“When I shall have finished the Father’s jewels. I must confess to
thee, dear, as before, that in engraving blocks I have lost ground in
my trade.”
“Nevertheless,” replied Anna, bent on dispelling his despondency, “it
is a favorable omen that thy handicraft of pictures is of the saint
that shieldeth from evil.”
By dint of close application, Gutenberg, having completed the
Superior’s jewels by noon of the next day, returned to his engraved
blocks, and before evening of the second day had given the finishing
touch to several prints. Laden with jewels and pictures, he left the
house, Anna wishing him Godspeed, and watching him till the mass of
vines, shrubbery, and apple-trees hid him from sight. The cloistered
Cathedral was not far distant, yet the winding way which led there was
quickly lost in the luxuriant foliage.
On his arrival he was ushered into the library, which might be termed a
scriptorium, or monks’ writing-room, so many copyists there plied the
pen. Having delivered the jewels, he showed his pictures.
“Whose handicraft may this be?” quoth a gray-headed friar.
“The name of the artisan doth not appear,” was the reply.
“Where didst thou obtain them?” asked another.
“Suffer me to keep a little secret,” replied Gutenberg, “which would
not benefit thee if told.”
“I will purchase the entire lot,” said the Abbot, after examining them.
“They will grace the walls of the library, and tend to preserve us from
evil.”
Anna came running to meet Gutenberg as he returned, and was well
pleased to learn of the sale.
“And now,” said she, “thou art in a fair way to get rich!” But
Gutenberg said, gravely,--
“We must not forget that the steady gains of a regular business are
more to be relied on than occasional successes in other pursuits.” Yet
Gutenberg was himself loath to take this view, and turned reluctantly
to his trade.
Not long after, he was surprised one morning by the entrance of Andrew
Dritzhn, an intelligent citizen of Strasbourg, stout and hale-looking,
and about thirty-five years of age. Taking a seat, he wound through a
long talk, and at last made known his errand, which was to ask that
Gutenberg would allow him to come and learn his trade. The latter loved
the quiet of his own thoughts too well to choose the presence of a
workman in his shop.
But when he considered that if he once had a good artisan in his
employ, the jewel and mirror business could go on, and himself have
more time for his printing researches, he decided to engage Dritzhn.
But no sooner was Dritzhn in favor with his new employer than he
introduced his friends Hielman, whose brother was the first paper-maker
in Strasbourg, and Riffe, who craved a like favor of being admitted
to learn Gutenberg’s trade. The shop now presented a busy scene with
three apprentices,--Dritzhn, careful, plodding, ingenious, and eager
to learn; Riffe, mostly engaged on mirrors, complacently catching
glimpses of his own round visage as his work waxed bright; and Hielman,
polishing jewels and making himself generally useful. But what with the
din of the wheel, saw, chisel, and polisher, the inventor had little
time for thought. It was, “How shall I do this, Master Gutenberg?”
“What next, master?” from morning till night; and he could not command
time to pursue his engraved blocks, as he had hoped. Yet it was
necessary, for the purpose of disguising from his associates for a
longer time the real object of his secret enterprise, to devote himself
with them to many curious and secondary industries. There was “the
cutting and fashioning of precious stones; the polishing of Venetian
glass to make mirrors; cutting the mirrors into facettes or diamonds;
the encasing them in copper frames, which he enriched with figures of
wood representing personages of fable and of the Bible.” These mirrors
were sold at the fair of Aix-la-Chapelle, and helped the funds of the
association, as well as Gutenberg in the secret expenses destined to
accomplish and perfect his invention. To secure the needed seclusion,
he fitted up a room, and spent his evenings on the hidden art in the
presence of Anna, after the workmen had left the front shop.
For the purpose of selling “St. Christophers,” he again visited Nôtre
Dame; and on his return, Anna’s glance at his face assured her that he
brought good news.
“Ah,” said he, “but it is not because I have returned with much money,
although I may have done as well.” And undoing a wrapper he produced
the “Historia Sancti Johannis Evangelistæ,” or “History of St. John the
Evangelist,” which he had obtained in exchange for cuts. “What think
you of this?” said he. “See, it is written on vellum with illuminated
initials,[2] and has sixty-three pages. And observe, it is copied with
a pen: some patient monk has toiled over this many a weary day in his
cell. But I have a plan which I think will be an improvement, which is
to engrave it as I did the picture.”
[2] _Vellum._ A finer kind of parchment or skin, rendered clear
and white for writing. _Illuminated initials._ Capital
letters, commencing a chapter or paragraph were said to be
illuminated when made large and painted in colors; often
being ornamented with delicate devices of flowers, birds or
animals. The monks were skilled in this adornment of books.
“Engrave a book! It would be delightful to have one made by thine own
skill!”
“Yes, and when once the blocks are engraved for the book,--a block for
a page, sixty-three blocks, I can impress a score of books as well as
one copy.”
“And thou canst sell books as well as the monks!” cried Anna joyfully.
“Neither wilt thou be shut up in a cloister a year to copy one small
book; but I wouldn’t wonder when the blocks are prepared, if thou
couldst make a book in a day, even saving time and earning money!”
“A likely matter truly! but we must not build air-castles!” Sage
advice for him to give who was himself a castle-builder, as are all
enthusiastic people,--may they never be less; for what would be done in
this work-a-day world without the healthful stimulus of the illusions
of hope?
A small table in the sitting-room was at evening a work-bench. It was
neatly covered in the daytime, and Anna’s work-box was on it. But
the inventor found it necessary to seek entire seclusion for some of
his processes, and secured, it is said, a fitting place in the ruins
of the St. Arbogast Monastery, abandoned to the moles and the bats
save the part which was inhabited by the poor people of the suburbs
of Strasbourg; and there, in a forsaken cloister, he established his
secret study and work-shop, whither he withdrew whenever his presence
could be spared from the front shop. Not even to Anna did he divulge
his hidden work. She was content, knowing that in good time she would
know the result.
Evening came, and in the quiet home-room the inventor commenced
engraving the first page of the “History of St. John,” carefully
tracing the letters on the smooth surface of the block, and imitating
the most approved copyist’s hand. As Anna watched him, she thought them
perfect, and with good reason.
Toil on, busy worker! Glorious things will follow thy labor!
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