Part 5

Baskerville considered the title-page to be a part of the book which required the most painstaking care, and he certainly produced a series of title-pages that have never been excelled. It had been the custom to crowd as much information about the book as possible upon the title-page. On the other hand, Baskerville endeavored to make his title-pages as concise as possible, and wherever a long title was necessary, as it was in the Prayer Books, he so chose the type and spaced the lines that there was no fault to be found. The title-page to his Bible is probably the most beautiful of them all, although the title-page to the New Testament is even more simple than the title-page to the book itself. It is a beautiful page and fine printing, without a superfluous line or an irritating decoration. It is a relief to turn from the crowded and rubricated red-line title-pages of the period to the restful simplicity of the title-pages of Baskerville.

And yet the master of the art of printing in the twentieth century wrote of Baskerville’s title-pages as follows: “There was then and there is now a rule obeyed by many printers that the main display line of a title must always be a full line. If the letters are too few the type must be widely spaced and one or more of these lines must fill the measure. No printer observed this rule more rigidly than Baskerville. Not only in his edition of Catullus, but in his quarto editions of Virgil, Juvenal, and Persius, the letters of the titles are spread over the page as if they had been dislocated by explosion. Even in the title-page of his Book of Common Prayer, for which he laid out more lines of display than could be gracefully put upon the page with a needed relief of white space, the letters in some lines are wedged widely apart in a useless attempt to give the lines the desired prominence. It is a handbill, not a title.”[41] He should have reproduced the title-page of the New Testament as an answer to this harsh criticism.

In the early days, a printer’s type was his own. He made it and used it. He did not sell it. English-cast types did not become a marketable ware for more than a century after printing was introduced into England. As late as 1799, it was the statute law in England that no one should be allowed to possess or use a printing-press or types for printing without giving notice to a justice of the peace and obtaining a certificate, and any justice of the peace might issue a warrant to search any premises and seize any press or printing-types not thus certificated. This remained the law with regard to type-founding until 1869; but happily the law was not enforced, except for a few years after it was passed. Printers received patents and monopolies for printing certain books. The result was great degeneracy in the quality of printing. A privileged printer, sure of his monopoly, had no inducement to execute good work at more cost or pains than was necessary. Old type would do as well as new, and bad type as well as good. The typography of the whole Stuart period is a disgrace to English art.[42]

Printing in England in the early part of the eighteenth century was in a sorry state. Official broadsides, political pamphlets, works of literature, and even Bibles show a depression and degeneration so marked that one is tempted to believe the art of printing was rapidly becoming lost in a wilderness of what may be termed “Brown sheets and sorry letter.” No foundry was contributing anything towards the revival of good printing, with the exception of the Oxford University, and Oxford owed its founts to gifts procured mainly from abroad. Scarcely one good piece of printing was the impression of English type, and even the Scotch printers were rebuked for not stocking their cases with Dutch type. Tonson, the foremost English printer, is said on one occasion to have lodged in Amsterdam while a founder there was casting him £300 worth of type. James, the only English founder who showed any vitality, owed his success chiefly, if not entirely, to the fact that all his letters were the product of Dutch matrices, and even these, in his hands, were so indifferently cast as to be often as bad as English type. How far this decline was due to the printer or the founder, or how far both were the result of that system of Star Chamber decrees, monopolies, patents, restraints, and privileges which characterized the illiberal days of the Stuarts, it is impossible to say, but the fact is that English typography was in a very bad way.

William Caslon, a gunsmith’s apprentice, made the first attempt, about 1720, to found English type, and in 1730 his types were very much used. But the condition of printing was still anything but satisfactory; and although under the influence of Caslon’s genius the press was recovering from the reproach under which it lay at the beginning of the century, England was still very far behind her neighbors both in typographical enterprise and achievement. Fine printing was unknown. Once more it was left to an outsider to initiate a new departure; and in 1750 the art of printing found its deliverer in the person of an eccentric Birmingham japanner, Baskerville. To him is due the honor of the first real stride towards a higher level of national typography; an example which became the incentive to that outburst of enthusiasm--that “matrix and puncheon mania,” as Dibdin terms it--“which brought forth the series of splendid typographical productions with which the eighteenth century closed and the nineteenth century opened.”

The magnificent works which between 1759 and 1772 continued to issue from his press not only confirmed him in his reputation, but raised his name to a unique position among the modern improvers of the art. The paper, the type, and the general execution of his works were such as English readers had not been accustomed to, while the disinterested enthusiasm with which, regardless of profit, he pursued his ideal, fully merited the eulogy of the printer-poet who wrote:

“O BASKERVILLE! _the anxious wish was thine Utility with beauty to combine; To bid the o’erweening thirst of gain subside; Improvement all thy care and all thy pride; When_ BIRMINGHAM--_for riots and for crimes Shall meet the long reproach of future times, Then shall she find amongst our honor’d race, One name to save her entire disgrace_.”

Straus and Dent say of him: “Baskerville is the English representative of that Renaissance of printing which in a measure helps to distinguish the second half of the eighteenth century. It needs but small bias to place him above that trio of artists--Didot in Paris, Bodoni at Parma, Ibarra at Madrid. Baskerville has been called the English Bodoni, but it would perhaps be fairer to say that Bodoni is the Italian Baskerville. His work cannot compare in bulk with that of the other masters, but we have his reasons for confining his efforts to so small an outlay. The subtle splendor of his work grants it a corner by itself in the world’s book-shelf; his own peculiar genius is stamped upon almost every one of his productions. The types themselves were cut upon principles which might well be followed to-day by those who would introduce into their making a geometrical exactitude. Whatever may have been the popular dislike of his work in England at the time, there can be no question that he has had a lasting influence upon all work of the kind after his day. Printers and type-founders alike are indebted to his inventive genius.”

* * * * *

Baskerville made his will January 6, 1773, writing it with his own hand. As near as can be ascertained, it disposed of about £12,000. He gave £2000 to discharge a settlement made before marriage to his wife. He also gave her £2000 to be paid out of his book accounts, stock in trade, etc. He gave £500 to his “little favorite,” being the granddaughter of his wife, if she lived to be twenty-one years old; if not, the £500 to his wife. He gave £1400 in trust to pay to the children of his nieces, “to become payable on the day of my wife’s future marriage, which if she choose I wish her happy equal to her merit, but if she continues a widow the last mentioned legacies are entirely void.” He gave £500 to the Protestant Dissenting Charity School in Birmingham towards erecting a commodious building.

Then follows that portion of the will which Dr. Chalmers deemed too indecent to print: “My further will & pleasure is and I Hearby Declare that the Device of Goods & Chattles as Above is upon this Express Condition that my Wife in Concert with my Exᵒʳˢ do Cause my Body to be Buried in a Conical Building in my own premises, Heartofore used as a mill which I have lately Raised Higher and painted and in a vault which I have prepared for It. This Doubtless to many may appear a Whim perhaps It is so--But is a whim for many years Resolve’d upon as I have a Hearty Contempt of all Superstition the Farce of a Consecrated Ground the Irish Barbarism of Sure and Certain Hopes &c. I also consider Revelation as It is call’d Exclusive of the Scraps of Morality casually Intermixt with It to be the most Impudent Abuse of Common Sense which Ever was Invented to Befool Mankind. I Expect some srewd Remark will be made on this my Declaration by the Ignorant & Bigotted who cannot Distinguish between Religion & Superstition and are Taught to Believe that morality (by which I understand all the Duties a man ows to God and his fellow Creatures) is not Sufficient to entitle him to Divine favour with professing to believe as they Call It Ceartain Absurd Doctrines & mysteries of which they have no more Conception than a Horse. This Morality Alone I profess to have been my Religion and the [Rule] of my Actions, to which I appeal how far my profession and practice have Been Consistant.”

And finally he gave to his executors each “6 Guineas to Buy a Ring which I hope they will Consider as a Keepsake.”

Some time before his death, being consulted by friends, who were aware of his opinions, as to how he would be buried, Baskerville said they could “bury him sitting, standing or lying, but he did not think they could bury him flying.”[43]

He was buried in the conical building, previously used as a mill, which he had raised higher and painted, and in a vault which he had prepared, at Easy Hill. The epitaph, written by himself, runs as follows:

STRANGER-- BENEATH THIS CONE IN UNCONSCRATED (_sic_) GROUND A FRIEND TO THE LIBERTIES OF MANKIND DIRECTED HIS BODY TO BE INHUM’D MAY THE EXAMPLE CONTRIBUTE TO EMANCIPATE THY MIND FROM THE IDLE FEARS OF SUPERSTITION AND THE WICKED ARTS OF PRIESTHOOD

When Baskerville House was sold to a Mr. Ryland in 1789, the owner did not disturb the body, and it remained for nearly fifty years in comparative peace. During the Birmingham riots of 1791, Baskerville House was stormed, sacked, gutted, and burned. It was not, however, until alterations were made on the property for business purposes that Baskerville’s coffin was removed, and taken to a warehouse, where it remained for some time subject to visits from the curious, and even to scientific observations of the condition of the body. Mr. Ryland, ascertaining that a show was made of the remains, insisted that they should be suitably interred, and Mr. Marston, in whose shop the coffin had been placed, applied to the rector of St. Philip’s for permission to bury the body there. This was refused on account of Baskerville’s atheism, when Mr. Knott, the bookseller, said that he had a vault in Christ’s Church, and should consider it an honor to have Baskerville’s remains rest there, and they were there placed about 1829. Even here Baskerville’s body did not rest permanently, for the necessary extension of Birmingham caused Christ’s Church to be demolished, and his remains, which should have been placed in St. Philip’s Church by the side of his wife, being again refused interment there by the rector, were placed in one of the catacombs of the Church of England Cemetery at Warstone Lane. And so, finally, after being turned out of the garden at Easy Hill for a canal-wharf, exposed to neglect and ignominy in a plumber’s warehouse, interred by stealth in the vaults of Christ’s Church, and then again removed by the march of business, Baskerville’s bones at last found permanent rest in a quiet cemetery of the Church of England. It is in a spot remote, not easily discoverable, and where few are likely to see the stone, which has been transferred thither from Christ’s Church. The inscription upon it reads as follows:

IN THIS CATACOMB RESTS THE REMAINS OF JOHN BASKERVILLE THE FAMOUS PRINTER HE DIED IN 1775, BUT THE PLACE OF HIS BURIAL WAS UNKNOWN UNTIL APRIL 12, 1893, WHEN THE OPENING OF THE UNREGISTERED CATACOMB NO. 521 DISCOVERED A COFFIN, WHICH ON FURTHER EXAMINATION WAS FOUND TO CONTAIN HIS BODY

What is it that makes the life and work of this middle-aged, vain, and silly Birmingham Englishman interesting to us? Why do we collect his imprints, and why do we talk about him? I think it is because he had the true artistic vision and courage. He conceived the idea of a perfect book, such as had not been printed in England. He did not grow into it. He did not make one book, and then a better one, and then a better one, until at last he achieved the beautiful book. He conceived the book as an artist conceives a statue before he strikes a blow with his chisel into the marble. It was wonderful that he should have done so. He had grown up in a manufacturing and mercantile business, making japan work for sale, and profiting by its sale. Most men never get out of the work and of the ideas of the work which they do until they are fifty years of age. He did. Why was it? I think, as I have said, it was because he had an artistic perception and conceived the thing which he was to do, and adhered to his conception. Everything shows that he wrought in the true artistic spirit: having conceived the thing to be done, he proceeded to do it. All his work was executed upon a hand-press. His printing-office was what we should call a private printing-office in his house. He cut the type; he made the ink and improved the press; he devised the paper; and from start to finish the work was his. Everybody who will do better work than anybody else must have this spirit and conception of the work he proposes, and must adhere to it, or he will not produce perfect work. It is this that makes Baskerville interesting to us, and makes the productions of his little private press treasures in the world of art.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _Birmingham and the Midland Hardware District, pages 211, 221._

[2] _Autobiography of Alexander Carlyle, D.D._

[3] _Hutton’s History of Birmingham (1783), page 90._

[4] _Gough’s British Topography (1780), volume ii, page 306._

[5] _Hutton’s History of Birmingham, page 90._

[6] _Frivolous._

[7] _Testy._

[8] _Mark Noble, who was born in Birmingham in 1754. His father sold beads, knives, toys, etc., to the slave traders. In 1781 he was presented to two “starvation livings,” as he called them, in Warwickshire. He divided his interests then among his congregation, his books, and his farm. His writings were those of an imperfectly educated, vulgar-minded man. His ignorance of English grammar and composition rendered his books hard to read and occasionally unintelligible, while the moral reflections with which they abounded were puerile._ (_Dictionary of National Biography._)

[9] _Chambers’s Biographical Illustrations._

[10] _Edward Rowe Mores was a crusty, crabbed clergyman, who collected different founts of types, and obtained much information upon the subject of type-founding. He printed eighty copies of the book quoted above, and Nichols bought the whole of them. See Nichols’s Literary Anecdotes, volume v, page 389._

[11] _The Bookhunter (1885), page 67._

[12] _Reed’s Old English Letter Foundries, pages 269, 271, 277, 279._

[13] _Dent and Straus, John Baskerville, page 64._

[14] _Autobiography of Alexander Carlyle, D.D._

[15] _Straus, Robert Dodsley, page 272._

[16] _Dictionary of National Biography._

[17] _Straus, Robert Dodsley, pages 219, 273._

[18] _Lettres inédites de Voltaire (1857), page 254._

[19] _Reed’s Old English Letter Foundries (1882)._

[20] _Hansard’s Typographia (1825), page 311._

[21] _Hansard’s Typographia, page 723._

[22] _Ibid., page 717._

[23] _Reed’s Old English Letter Foundries, page 276._

[24] _Macaulay’s History of England, volume ii._

[25] _Harwood’s Classics, page 172._

[26] _Hansard’s Typographia, page 311._

[27] _Dibdin’s Library Companion, page 716._

[28] _Dibdin’s Library Companion (1825), page 47._

[29] _Dibdin’s Library Companion, page 613._

[30] _Straus, Robert Dodsley, pages 289-292._

[31] _Baskerville’s work was greatly admired on the Continent, especially in France. He was paid several very handsome compliments in Pierre Didot’s “Épître sur les Progrès de l’Imprimerie,” published in Paris in 1784; and in the notes to the poem attention is given to his method of printing and to his glossy paper,--“qui fatigue la vue.” To make such paper, says Didot rather loftily, “is not a secret, and if it ever becomes one, will not be worth finding out.” This opinion did not, however, prevent the Didots from attempting to imitate it._

[32] _Dibdin’s Greek and Latin Classics (1827), vol. ii, pages 555 et seq._

[33] _Harwood’s Classics, page 176. See also Dibdin’s Classics, volume ii, page 111._

[34] _Dibdin’s Library Companion, page 766._

[35] _Hansard’s Typographia, page 311._

[36] _Horne’s An Introduction to the Study of Bibliography, vol. i, page 253._

[37] _Bibliography of Printing, page 37._

[38] _Fitzgerald’s The Book Fancier, page 77._

[39] _Reed’s Old English Letter Foundries, pages 286, 287._

[40] _Ibid., page 332._

[41] _Theodore Low De Vinne’s Title-Pages as seen by a Printer (1901), pages 154, 155._

[42] _Reed’s Old English Letter Foundries, pages 134, 136._

[43] _Secular Review, September 8, 1877._

_FINIS_

_BASKERVILLE EDITIONS_

IN THE COLLECTION OF J. H. BENTON

_COLLECTION_

OF J. H. BENTON, U. S. A.

[_Numbers refer to Straus and Dent’s Bibliography_]

BASKERVILLE EDITIONS

_No._ _Date_ _Title_

7. 1757. VIRGIL. Opera. Royal 4to. _Plates by Hollar. Map inserted._

8. 1757. VIRGIL. Opera. Royal 4to. _Extra illustrated._

15. 1758. MILTON. Paradise Lost. Imperial 8vo.

17. 1758. MILTON. Paradise Regain’d, Imperial 8vo.

20. 1758. [HUCKELL.] Avon. 4to. _Sig. K2 printed 2K._

22. 1759. MILTON. Paradise Lost. 4to.

23. 1759. MILTON. Paradise Regain’d. 4to.

31. 1760. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Long lines without borders.] Imperial 8vo. _Finely executed painting on the fore-edge. Price erased._

32. 1760. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Long lines with borders.] Imperial 8vo.

38. 1760. [MALLET.] Edwin and Emma. Royal 4to.

40. 1761. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Double column without borders.] Imperial 8vo.

43. 1761. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Long lines with borders.] Imperial 8vo.

44. 1761. ÆSOP. Fables. 8vo.

45. 1761. JUVENAL AND PERSIUS. Satyrae. Royal 4to. _Two copies, 2d copy has plates by Hollar inserted._

46. 1761. CONGREVE. Works. 3 vols. Imperial 8vo.

48. 1761. ADDISON. Works. 4 vols. Royal 4to. _Two copies, one not trimmed and in original boards._

52. 1762. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Long lines without borders.] Imperial 8vo.

54. 1762. BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. [Double column without borders.] 12mo. _Two copies, each with Psalms bound in._ _See_ Nos. 55, 56.

55. 1762. STERNHOLD AND HOPKINS. Psalms in Metre. 12mo. _Bound at end of larger copy of No. 54._

56. 1762. TATE AND BRADY. Psalms. 12mo. _Bound at end of smaller copy of No. 54._

59. 1762. HORACE. Opera. 12mo.

65. 1763. HOLY BIBLE. Cambridge. Imperial folio.

69. 1764. JENNINGS. On Medals. 8vo.

71. 1765. BARCLAY. Apology. Royal 4to.

75. 1766. VIRGIL. Works. By R. Andrews. In English. Imperial 8vo.

78. 1766. VIRGIL. Opera. 8vo. _No frontispiece._

86. 1770. HORACE. Opera. Royal 4to. _Manuscript errata inserted._

90. 1772. LUCRETIUS. De rerum natura. Royal 4to.

91. 1772. CATULLUS. Opera. Royal 4to.

92. 1772. CATULLUS. Opera. 12mo.

93. 1772. TERENCE. Comoediae. Royal 4to.

94. 1772. TERENCE. Comoediae. 12mo.

98. 1773. ARIOSTO. Orlando Furioso. 4 vols. Imperial 8vo. _Errata in vol. 4._

99. 1773. ARIOSTO. Orlando Furioso. 4 vols. Imperial 8vo. _Corrections in text._

102. 1773. SHAFTESBURY. Characteristics. 3 vols. Imperial 8vo.

104. 1773. LUCRETIUS. De rerum natura. 12mo. _Two copies._

105. 1773. SALLUSTIUS. Opera. Royal 4to.

109. 1774. SALLUSTIUS. Opera. 12mo.

UNIVERSITY PRESS, OXFORD

113. 1763. NEW TESTAMENT, GREEK. Imperial 8vo. _676 pages._

SARAH BASKERVILLE

116. 1777. HORACE. Opera. 12mo. _No dedication._

ROBERT MARTIN

117. 1767. SOMERVILE. The Chase. Imperial 8vo. _This copy reads “chace” on page 43._

_INDEX_

A

Adam, James, 16.

Addison, Joseph, works of, printed, 34, 46.

_Aesop’s Fables_, edition of, 34, 46.

Akenside, Mark, 36.

Aldus Manutius. _See_ Manutius, Aldus.

Alfieri, Vittorio, Conte, works of, printed with Baskerville types, 52.

Anderton, William, type-maker, 19.

Ariosto, edition of, for the Brothers Molini, 41-42.

B

Baldwin, R., London bookseller, buys remainder of edition of Baskerville’s Bible, 31.

Banks, Sir Joseph, 16.

Bartolozzi, Francesco, 42.