However this may be, Laurent Coster, notwithstanding the progress he had

made with his invention, was certainly ignorant of its importance. In

those days the only libraries were those belonging to convents and to a

few nobles of literary acquirements; private individuals, with the

exception of some learned men who were richer than their fellows,

possessed no books at all. The copyists and illuminators by profession

were employed exclusively in reproducing “Livres d’Heures”

(prayer-books), and school books: the first were sumptuous volumes,

objects of an industry quite exceptional; the second, destined for

children, were always simply executed, and composed of a few leaves of

strong paper or parchment. The pupils limited themselves to writing

passages of their lessons from the dictation of their teachers; to the

monks was assigned the task of transcribing, at full length, the sacred

and profane authors. Coster could not even have thought of reproducing

these works, the sale of which would have seemed to him impossible, and

he at first fell back upon the “Specula,” religious books which

addressed themselves to all the faithful, even to those who could not

read, by means of the stories or illustrations (_images_) of which these

books were composed; then he occupied himself with the “Donati,” which

he reprinted many times from xylographic plates, if not with movable

type, and for which he must have found a considerable demand. It was one

of these “Donati” that, falling under the eyes of Gutenberg, revealed to

him, according to the “Chronique de Cologne,” the secret of printing.

This secret was kept faithfully for fifteen or twenty years by the

workmen employed in his printing-house, who were not initiated into the

mysteries of the new art till they had served a certain time of

probation and apprenticeship: a terrible oath bound together those whom

the master had considered worthy of entering into partnership with him;

for on the preservation of the secret depended the prosperity or the

ruin of the inventor and his coadjutors, since all printed books were

then sold as manuscripts.

[Illustration: Fig. 393.--Fac-simile of the fifth Page of the first

Xylographic Edition of the “Ars Moriendi,” representing the Sinner on

his Death-bed surrounded by his Family. Two Demons are whispering into

his ear, “Think of thy treasure,” and “Distribute it to thy friends.”]

But while the secret was so scrupulously maintained by the first Dutch

printer and his partners, a lawsuit was brought before the superior

court of Strasbourg which, though the motives for it were apparently but

of private interest, was nevertheless to give the public the key to the

mysterious trade of the typographer. This lawsuit,--the curious

documents relating to which were found only in 1760, in an old tower at

Strasbourg,--was brought against John Gensfleisch, called Gutenberg (who

was born at Mayence, but was exiled from his native town during the

political troubles, and had settled at Strasbourg since 1420), by George

and Nicholas Dritzehen, who, as heirs of the deceased Andrew Dritzehen,

their brother, and formerly Gutenberg’s partner, desired to be admitted

as his representatives into an association of whose object they were

ignorant, but from which they no doubt knew their brother expected to

derive some beneficial results. It was, in short, printing itself which

was on its trial at Strasbourg towards the end of the year 1439; that

is, more than fourteen years before the period at which printing is

known to have been first employed in Mayence.

Here is a summary, as we find them in the documents relating to this

lawsuit, of the facts stated before the judge. Gutenberg, an ingenious

but a poor man, possessed _divers secrets_ for becoming rich. Andrew

Dritzehen came to him with a request that he would teach him _many

arts_. Gutenberg thereupon initiated him into the art of _polishing

stones_, and Andrew “derived great profit from this secret.”

Subsequently, with the object of carrying out _another art_ during the

pilgrimage of Aix-la-Chapelle,[60] Gutenberg agreed with Hans Riffen,

mayor of Lichtenau, to form a company, which Andrew Dritzehen and a man

named Andrew Heilman desired to join. Gutenberg consented to this on

condition that they would together purchase of him the right to a third

of the profits, for a sum of 160 florins, payable on the day of the

contract, and 80 florins payable at a later date. The agreement being

made, he taught them the _art_ which they were to exercise at the proper

period in Aix-la-Chapelle; but the pilgrimage was postponed to the

following year, and the partners required of Gutenberg that he should

not conceal from them any of the _arts and inventions_ of which he was

cognisant. New stipulations were entered upon whereby the partners

pledged themselves to pay an additional sum, and in which it was stated

that the _art_ should be carried on for the benefit of the four

partners during the space of five years; and that, in the event of one

of them dying, _all the implements of the art, and all the works already

produced_, should belong to the surviving partners; the heirs of the

deceased being entitled to receive no more than an indemnity of 100

florins at the expiration of the said five years.

Gutenberg accordingly offered to pay the heirs of his late partner the

stipulated sum; but they demanded of him an account of the capital

invested by Andrew Dritzehen, which, as they alleged, had been absorbed

in the speculation. They mentioned especially a certain account for

_lead_, for which their brother had made himself responsible. Without

denying this account, Gutenberg refused to satisfy their demands.

Numerous witnesses gave evidence, and their depositions for and against

the object of the association show us a faithful picture of what must

have been the inner life of four partners exhausting themselves and

their money in efforts to realise a scheme the nature of which they were

very careful to conceal, but from which they expected to derive the most

splendid results.

We find them working by night; we hear them answering those who

questioned them on the object of their work, that they were

“mirror-makers” (_spiegel-macher_); we find them borrowing money,

because they had in hand “something in which they could not invest too

much money.” Andrew Dritzehen, in whose care the _press_ was left, being

dead, Gutenberg’s first object was to send to the deceased’s house a man

he could trust, who was commissioned to unscrew the press, so that the

pieces (or _forms_), which were fixed closely together by it, might

become detached from each other, and then to place these forms in or on

the press “in such a manner that no one might be able to understand what

they were.” Gutenberg regrets that his servant did not bring him back

all the forms, many of which “were not to be found.” Lastly, we find

figuring among the witnesses a turner, a timber-merchant, and a

goldsmith who declared that he had worked during three years for

Gutenberg, and that he had gained more than 100 florins by preparing for

him “the things belonging to printing” (_das zu dem Trucken gehoret_).

_Trucken_--printing! Thus the grand word was pronounced in the course of

the lawsuit, but certainly without producing the least effect on the

audience, who wondered what was this occult _art_ which Gutenberg and

his partners had carried on with so much trouble, and at such great

expense. However, it is quite certain that, with the exception of the

indiscretion, really very insignificant, of the goldsmith, Gutenberg’s

secret remained undiscovered, for it was supposed it had to do with the

_polishing of stones_ and the manufacture of _mirrors_. The judge, being

informed as to the good faith of Gutenberg, pronounced the offers he

made to the plaintiffs satisfactory, decided against the heirs of Andrew

Dritzehen, and the three other partners remained sole proprietors of

their process, and continued to carry it out.

If we study with some attention the documents relating to this singular

trial at Strasbourg, and if we also notice, that our word _mirror_ is

the translation of the German word _spiegel_ and of the Latin word

_speculum_, it is impossible not to recognise all the processes, all the

implements made use of in printing, with the names they have not ceased

to bear, and which were given to them as soon as they were invented; the

forms, the screw (which is not the _printing_-press, for they printed in

those days with the _frotton_, or rubber, but the frame in which the

types were _pressed_), the lead, the work, the art, &c. We see Gutenberg

accompanied by a turner who made the screw for the press, the timber

merchant who had supplied the planks of box or of pear wood, the

goldsmith who had engraved or cast the type. Then we ascertain that

these “mirrors,” in the preparation of which the partners were occupied,

and which were to be sold at the pilgrimage of Aix-la-Chapelle, were no

other than the future copies of the “Speculum Humanæ Salvationis,” an

imitation more or less perfect of the famous book of illustrations of

which Holland had already published three or four editions, in Latin and

in Dutch.

We know, on the other hand, that these “Mirrors” or “Specula” were, in

the earliest days of printing, so much in request, that in every place

the first printers rivalled each other in executing and publishing

different editions of the book with illustrations. Here, there was the

reprint of the “Speculum,” abridged by L. Coster; there, the “Speculum”

of Gutenberg, taken entirely from manuscripts; now it was the “Speculum

Vitæ Humanæ,” by Roderick, Bishop of Zamora; then the “Speculum

Conscienciæ,” of Arnold Gheyloven; then the “Speculum Sacerdotum,” or

again, the voluminous “Speculum” of Vincent de Beauvais, &c.

It cannot now any longer be assumed that Gutenberg really made mirrors

or looking-glasses at Strasbourg, and that those pieces “laid in a

press,” those “forms which came to pieces,” that lead sold or wrought by

a goldsmith, were, as they wished it to be supposed, only intended to be

used “for printing ornaments on the frames of looking-glasses!”

[Illustration: Fig. 394.--Interior of a Printing-office in the Sixteenth

Century, by J. Amman.]

Would it not have been surprising that the pilgrims who were to visit

Aix-la-Chapelle on the occasion of the grand jubilee of 1440, should be

so anxious to buy ornamented mirrors? As to the art “_of polishing

stones_,” which Gutenberg had taught at first to Andrew Dritzehen, who

derived from it “_so much profit_,” having anything to do with printing

was, no doubt, also questionable; but we have not been able to solve the

enigma, and wait to clear up the difficulty till a new _incunable_

(_incunabula_, “a cradle,” the word is applied to the first editions

ever printed) is discovered, the work of some Peter (πἑτρος “a stone”)

or other; as, for example, the Latin sermons of Hermann de Petra on the

Lord’s Prayer; for Gutenberg, when speaking of _polishing stones_, might

have enigmatically designated a book he was printing; just as his

partner, in answer to the judge, after having raised his hand on high

and sworn to give true evidence, could call himself _a maker of

mirrors_, without telling a falsehood, without committing perjury. The

secret of printing was to be religiously kept by those who knew it.

In short, it results from all this that Gutenberg, “an ingenious man and

a man of invention,” having seen a xylographie “Donatus,” had

endeavoured to imitate it, and had succeeded in doing so, the secret

being confided to Andrew Dritzehen; that the other _arts_, which

Gutenberg at first kept to himself, but which he subsequently

communicated to his partners, consisted in the idea of substituting

movable type for tabular printing; a substitution that could only be

effected after numerous experiments had been made, and which were just

about to be crowned with success when Andrew Dritzehen died. We may then

consider it as nearly certain that printing was in some sort discovered

twice successively--the first time by Laurent Coster, whose small

printed books, or books in letterpress (_en moule_), attracted the

attention of Gutenberg; and the second time by Gutenberg, who raised the

art to a degree of perfection such as had never been attained by his

predecessor.

It was after the Strasbourg lawsuit between the years 1440 or 1442, as

stated by many historians, that Gutenberg went to Holland, and there

became a workman in the establishment of Coster; this is asserted in

order that they might be able to accuse him of the theft which Junius

has laid to the account of a certain man whose name was John. Only--and

the coincidence is not, in this case, unworthy of remark--two unedited

chronicles of Strasbourg and the Alsatian Wimpfeling relate, almost at

the same time, a robbery of type and implements used in printing, but

mentioning Strasbourg instead of Haarlem, Gutenberg instead of Laurent

Coster, and naming the thief John Gensfieisch. But, according to the

Strasbourg tradition, this John Gensfieisch the elder, related to and

employed by Gutenberg, robbed him of his secret and his tools, after

having been his rival in the discovery of printing, and established

himself at Mayence, where, by a just visitation of Providence, he was

soon struck blind. It was then, adds the tradition, that in his

repentance he sent for his former master to come to Mayence, and gave up

to him the business he had founded. But this last part of the tradition

seems to savour too much of the moral deductions of a story; and as it

is very improbable, moreover, that two thefts of the same kind were

committed at the same period, and under the same circumstances, we are

inclined to believe that the John mentioned by Junius was, in fact,

Gutenberg’s relative, who went to Haarlem to perfect himself in the art

of printing, and robbed Coster; for there really existed at Mayence, at

the time mentioned, a John Gensfleisch, who might have printed, before

Gutenberg went to join him there, the two school books, “Doctrinale

Alexandri Galli,” and “Petri Hispani Tractatus.” This is rendered still

more probable from the fact that, after search had been long made for

these books, which were absolutely unknown when Junius mentioned them,

three fragments of the “Doctrinale,” printed on vellum with the type of

the Dutch “Speculum,” were at length found.

However, Gutenberg had not succeeded with his printing at Strasbourg.

When he quitted the town, where he left such pupils as John Mentell and

Henry Eggestein, he removed to Mayence, and established himself in the

house of _Zum Jungen_. There he again printed, but he exhausted his

means in experiments, alternately taking up and laying aside the various

processes he had employed--xylography, movable types of wood, lead, and

cast iron. He used, for printing, a hand-press which he had made on the

same principle as a wine-press; he invented new tools; he began ten

works and could finish none. At last, his resources all gone, and

himself in a state of despair, he was just going to give up the art

altogether, when chance sent him a partner, John Fust or Faust, a rich

goldsmith of Mayence.

This partnership took place in 1450. Fust, by a deed properly drawn up

by a notary, promised Gutenberg to advance him 800 gold florins

for the manufacture of implements and tools, and 300 for other

expenses--servants’ wages, rent, firing, parchment, paper, ink, &c.

Besides the “Specula” and “Donati” already in circulation, which

Gutenberg probably continued to print, the object of the partnership was

the printing of a Bible in folio of two columns, in large type, with

initial letters engraved on wood; an important work requiring a great

outlay.

A caligrapher was attached to Gutenberg’s printing establishment, either

to trace on wood the characters to be engraved, or to _rubricate_ the

printed pages; in other words, to write in red ink, to paint with a

brush or to illuminate (_au frottou_) the initials, the capital letters,

and the headings of chapters. This caligrapher was probably Peter

Schœffer or Schoiffer, of Gernsheim, a small town in the diocese of

Darmstadt, a clerk of the diocese of Mayence, as he styles himself, and

perhaps a German student in the University of Paris; since a manuscript

copied by him, and preserved at Strasbourg, is terminated by an

inscription in which he testifies that he himself wrote it in the year

1449, in “the very glorious University of Paris.” Schœffer was not only

a literary man, but was also a man of ingenuity and prudence

(_ingeniosus et prudens_). Having entered Gutenberg’s establishment, on

whom Fust had forced him, in 1452, to take part in the new association

they were then forming, Schœffer invented an improved mould with which

he could cast separately all the letters of the alphabet in metal,

whereas up to this time they had been obliged to engrave the type with a

_burin_. He concealed his discovery from Gutenberg, who would naturally

have availed himself of it; but he confided the secret to Fust, who,

being very experienced in casting metals, carried out his idea. It was

evidently with this cast type, which resisted the action of the press,

that Schœffer composed and executed a “Donatus,” of which four leaves,

in parchment, were found at Treves in 1803, in the interior of an old

bookcover, and were deposited in the Imperial Library of Paris. An

inscription in this edition, printed in red, announces formally that

Peter Schœffer alone had executed it, with its type and its initial

letters, according to the “new art of the printer, without the help of

the pen.”

That was certainly the first public disclosure of the existence of

printing, which up to this time had passed off its productions as the

work of caligraphers. It seems that Schœffer thus desired to mark the

date and to appropriate to himself the invention of Gutenberg. It is

certain that Fust, allured by the results Schœffer had obtained,

secretly entered into partnership with him, and, in order to get rid of

Gutenberg, profited by the power which his bond gave him over that

unfortunate individual. Gutenberg, summoned to dissolve the partnership

and to return the sums he had received, which he was quite incapable of

paying, was obliged, in order to satisfy the demands of his pitiless

creditor, to give up to him his printing establishment with all the

materials it contained; among them was included this same Bible, the

last leaves of which were, perhaps, in the press at the moment when they

robbed him of the fruits of his long-protracted labours.

Gutenberg evicted, Peter Schœffer, and Fust, who had given Schœffer his

daughter in marriage, completed the great Bible, which was ready for

sale in the early months of 1456. This Bible, being passed off as a

manuscript, must have commanded a very high price. This accounts for the

non-appearance on it of any inscription to show by what means this

immense work had been executed; let us add that in any case we may well

suppose Schœffer and Fust were not willing to give to Gutenberg a share

of the glory which they dared not yet appropriate to themselves.

[Illustration: Fig. 395.--Fac-simile of the Bible of 1456 (1 Samuel xix,

1-5), printed at Mayence by Gutenberg.]

The Latin Bible, without date, which all bibliographers agree in

considering as that of Gutenberg, is a large in-folio of six hundred and

forty-one leaves, divided into two, or three, or even four volumes. It

is printed in double columns, of forty-two lines each in the full pages,

with the exception of the first ten, which consisted of only forty or

forty-one lines (Fig. 395). The characters are Gothic; the leaves are

all numbered, and have neither _signatures_ nor _catchwords_. Some

copies of it are on vellum, others on paper. The number of copies which

were printed of this Bible may be estimated at one hundred and fifty--a

considerable number for that period. The simultaneous publication of so

many Bibles, exactly alike, did not contribute less than the lawsuit of

Gutenberg and Fust to make known the discovery of printing. Besides

which, Fust and his new partner, although they had mutually agreed to

keep the secret as long as possible, were the first to reveal it, in

order to get all the credit of the invention for themselves, when public

rumour allowed them no longer to conceal it within their

printing-office.

It was then they printed the “Psalmorum Codex” (Collection of Psalms),

the earliest book bearing their names, and which fixed, in a manner, for

the first time, a date for the new art they had so much improved. The

_colophon_, or inscription at the end of the “Psalmorum Codex,”

announces that the book was executed “without the help of the pen, by an

ingenious process, in the year of our Lord, 1457.”

This magnificent Psalter, which went through three editions without any

considerable alterations being made in it in the space of thirty-three

years, is a large in-folio volume of one hundred and seventy-five

leaves, printed in red and black characters, imitated from those used in

the liturgical manuscripts of the fifteenth century. There exists,

however, of the rarest edition of this book but six or seven copies on

vellum (Fig. 396).

From this period printing, instead of concealing itself, endeavoured, on

the contrary, to make itself generally known. But it does not as yet

seem to have occurred to any one that it could be applied to the

reproduction of other books than Bibles, psalters, and missals, because

these were the only books that commanded a quick and extensive sale.

Fust and Schœffer then undertook the printing of a voluminous work,

which served as a liturgical manual to the whole of Christendom, the

celebrated “Rationale Divinorum Officiorum” (“Manual of Divine

Offices”), by William Durand, Bishop of Mende, in the thirteenth

century. It suffices to glance over this “Rationale,” and to compare it

with the coarse “Specula” printed in Holland, to be convinced that in

the year 1459 printing had reached the highest degree of perfection.

This edition, dated from Mayence (_Moguntiæ_), was no longer intended

for a small number of buyers; it was addressed to the entire Catholic

world, and copies of it on vellum and on paper were disseminated so

rapidly over the whole of Europe as to cause the belief, thenceforward,

that printing was invented at Mayence.

[Illustration: Fig. 396.--Fac-simile of a page of the Psalter of 1459,

second edition, or the second copy that was struck off. Printed at

Mayence, by J. Fust and P. Schœffer.]

The fourth work printed by Fust and Schœffer, and dated 1460, is the

collection of the Constitutions of Pope Clement V., known by the name of

“Clementines”--a large in-folio in double columns, having superb initial

letters painted in gold and colours in the small number of copies still

extant.

But Gutenberg, though deprived of his typographic apparatus, had not

renounced the art of which he considered himself, and with reason, the

principal inventor. He was, above all, anxious to prove himself as

capable as his former partners of producing books “without the help of

the pen.” He formed a new association, and fitted up a printing-office

which, we know by tradition, was actively at work till 1460, the year

wherein appeared the “Catholicon” (a kind of encyclopædia of the

thirteenth century), by John Balbi, of Genoa, the only important work

the printing of which can be attributed to Gutenberg (Fig. 397), and

which can bear comparison with the editions of Fust and Schœffer.

Gutenberg, who had imitated the Dutch “Donati” and “Specula,” doubtless

felt a repugnance at appropriating to himself the credit of an invention

he had only improved; accordingly, in the long and explicit anonymous

inscription placed at the end of the volume, he attributed to God alone

the glory of this divine invention, declaring that the “Catholicon” had

been printed without the assistance of reed, _stylus_, or pen, but by a

marvellous combination of points, matrices, and letters.

[Illustration: Fig. 397.--Fac-simile of the “Catholicon” at 1460,

printed at Mayence by Gutenberg.]

This undertaking brought to a happy termination, Gutenberg, no doubt

weary of the annoyances incident to business, transferred his

printing-office to his workmen, Henry and Nicholas Bechtermuncze,

Weigand Spyes, and Ulric Zell. Then, having retired near to Adolphus

II., elector and archbishop of Mayence, where he occupied the post of

gentleman of the ecclesiastical court of that prince, he contented

himself with the modest stipend attached to that office, and died at a

date not authentically determined, but which cannot be later than

February 24, 1468. His friend, Adam Gelth, erected in the Church of the

Récollets at Mayence, a monument to his memory, with an epitaph styling

him formally “the inventor of the typographic art.”

The Arts in the Middle Ages and at the Period of the Renaissance · 第 33 / 35 段