Printers' Marks: A Chapter in the History of Typography
Chapter 3
M. Paul Delalain has touched upon this exceedingly abstract phase of Printers’ Marks in the third _fascicule_ of his “Inventaire des Marques d’Imprimeurs,” without, as he himself admits, arriving at any very definite conclusion. The cross, whether in its simplest form or with a complication of additional ornaments, has, as he points out, been at all times popular in connection with this subject. It appeared on the shield of Arnold Ther Hoernen, Cologne, 1477, at Stockholm in 1483, at Cracovia in 1510. That it did not fall entirely into desuetude until the end of the eighteenth century is a very striking proof of what M. Delalain calls “la persistance de la croix.” It has appeared in all forms and in almost every conceivable shape. Its presence may be taken as indicating a deference and a submission to, as well as a respect for, the Christian religion, and M. Delalain is of the opinion that the sign “eu pour origine l’affiliation à une confrérie religieuse.” Finally, in his introduction to Roth-Scholtz’s “Thesaurus Symbolarum ac Emblematum,” Spoerl asks, “Why are the initials of a printer or bookseller so often placed in a circle or in a heart-shaped border, and then surmounted by a cross? Why at the extreme top of the cross is the lateral line formed into a sort of triangular four? Why, without this inexplicable sign, has the cross a number of cyphers, two, or even three, cross-bars? Why should the tail of the cypher 4 itself be traversed by one or sometimes two perpendicular bars which themselves would appear to form another cross of another kind? Why, among the ornamental accessories, do certain species of stars form several crosses, entangled or isolated? Why, at the base of the cross is the V duplicated?” All these are problems which it would be exceedingly difficult to solve with satisfaction. We do not propose offering any kind of explanation for these singular marks; but it will not be without interest to point out that among the more interesting examples are those used by Berthold Rembolt, André Bocard or Boucard, Georges Mittelhus, Jehan Alexandre, Jehan Lambert, Nicole De La Barre, and the brothers De Marnef, all printers or booksellers of Paris; of Guillaume Le Talleur, Richard Auzolt, of Rouen; of Jaques Huguetan, Mathieu Husz, François Fradin, Jacques Sacon or Sachon, and Jehan Du Pré, all of Lyons; of Jehan Grüninger, of Strassburg; of Lawrence Andrewe, and Andrew Hester, of London; the unknown printer of St. Albans; of Leeu, of Antwerp; of Jacob Abiegnus, of Leipzig; of Pedro Miguel, Barcelona; of Juan de Rosembach of Barcelona and other places; of the four “alemanes” of Seville, and hundreds of others that might be mentioned.
It is curious to note that, in spite of its great mediæval popularity, the subject of St. George and the Dragon rarely enters into the subject of Printers’ Marks, and of the few examples which call for reference, those of Thomas Périer and Guillaume Bourgeat, of Paris and Tours respectively, are among the best both in design and execution. The idea was also adopted by Guillaume Auvray, of Paris; and by M. de Hamont, Brussels.
The personification of Time and Peace were both popular; and each has its successful examples. One of the earliest instances of the former is a pretty little mark, executed with a considerable amount of vigour, of Robert De Gourmont, Paris; a large and vigorous Mark--one of several--employed by Simon De Colines, Paris, in which it is interesting to note that the scythe is not invariably denticulated; two very crude but very distinct examples employed by Michel Hillenius or Hooghstrate, Antwerp, 1514; and two, one large and the other small, of Guillaume Chaudière, Paris, 1564; whilst Jean Temporal, of Lyons, 1550, used it as an evident play on his name. The emblem of Peace does not appear to have been much employed until well on into the sixteenth century; N. Boucher, 1544, used as his motto, “pacem victis;” Guillaume Julien, to whom reference has already been made; as likewise Michel Clopejau, of a few years later, who used the words “Typus amicitiæ” on his mark, with the further legend of “Quam sperata victoria pax certa melior;” these three lived in Paris, whilst by far the best decorative Mark in this connection was that adopted by Julien Angelier, a bookseller and printer of Blois, 1555, the centre of whose device, besides the words “Signum pacis,” includes a dove bearing two olive branches. The fraternal device of two hands clasped may also be here alluded to: it is of special interest from the fact that it was employed by one of the earliest to practice printing in Paris--Guy or Guyot Marchant, 1483, one of whose Marks gives us a view of two shoemakers working with musical notes representing So La (Sola), and “fides ficit” in gothic type. Thomas Richard, sixty years afterwards, elaborated on a portion of this idea, and his Mark shows two hands holding a crowned sceptre with two serpents entwined around it. Designs much superior to these were employed by Bertramus of Strassburg, at the latter part of the sixteenth century. Following the example of Marchant, musical notes have occasionally been employed by later printers. The rebus of this printer evidently suggested that of Jehan and Anthoine Lagache, father and son, Arras, in 1517, the first syllable of whose name, La, is indicated by a musical note, and is immediately followed by “gache.” Pierre Jacobi, Saint-Nicholas-de-la-Port, and Toulouse, 1503, adopted Marchant’s idea by giving “Sola fides ficit” with a musical start, so to speak; and a distinctly novel phase of the subject is employed by Jacobus Jucundus, Strassburg, 1531, in which a goose is represented as playing on a violin.
Printers’ marks in which the pictorial embellishments partake of a rustic nature, such as bits of landscape, seed-sowing, harvesting, and horns of plenty, are numerous, and in many cases exceedingly pretty. J. Roffet, Paris, 1549, employed the design of the seed-sower in several of his Marks; and of about a dozen different Marks used at one time or another by Jean De Tournes the first, Lyons, 1542, one of the most successful is a clever one having for its central figure a sower; the same idea, in a very crude form, was contemporaneously employed also by De Laet, Antwerp. The Cornucopia, or horn of plenty, was a very favourite emblem, and it appears in a manifold variety of designs, sometimes with a Caduceus (the symbol of Mercury) which is held by two clasped hands, as in the case of T. Orwin, London, 1596, in a cartouche with the motto: “By wisdom peace, by peace plenty;” four of the eight marks used by Chrestien Wéchel, Paris, 1522, differ from Orwin’s in being surmounted by a winged Pegasus; and André Wéchel, of the same city, 1535, employed one of the smaller devices of Chrestien, with variations and enlargements of the same; in the Mark of J. Chouet, Geneva, 1579, the caduceus is replaced by a serpent, the body of which is formed into a figure 8; in that of Gislain Manilius, Ghent, the horns appear above two seated figures. In each of the foregoing examples two horns appear. Georg Ulricher von Andlau, Strassburg, 1529, used the cornucopia, and in one of his Marks the figure is surrounded by an elaborate array of fruit and vegetables; single horns appear also in the clever and elaborate marks of R. Fouet, Paris, 1597, whose design was a very slight deviation from that of J. De Bordeaux, Paris, 1567. The oak-tree, sheltering a reaper and with the motto “Satis Quercus,” was employed by George Cleray, Vannes, 1545; and the fruit of this tree--the acorn--by E. Schultis, Lyons, 1491. The thistle appears on the marks of Estienne Groulleau, Paris, 1547; the Rose on the more or less elaborate designs of Gilles Corrozet, Paris, 1538; a rose-tree in full flower occupies the centre of the beautiful mark of the first Mathieu Guillemot, Paris, 1585; a solitary Rose-flower was the simple and effective mark of Jean Dallier, Paris, 1545; and a flowering branch of the same tree is one of the items on the charming little Mark on the opposite page of Mathurin Breuille, Paris.
In the category of what may be termed extinct animals, the Unicorn as a subject for illustrating Printers’ Marks enjoyed a long and extensive popularity. The most remarkable thing in connection with these designs of the Unicorn is perhaps their striking dissimilarity, and as nearly every one of the many artists who employed, for no obvious reasons, this animal in their Printer’s Marks had his own idea of what a Unicorn ought to have been like, the result, viewed as a whole, is not by any means a happy one. Still, several of the examples possess a considerable amount of vigour and have a distinct decorative effectiveness. But apart from this its appearance in the Marks of the old printers is a very striking proof of the fact that the mediæval legends died hard. Curiously enough, the proverbial “lion and unicorn” do not often occur together. The family of printers with whose name the unicorn is almost as closely associated as the compass is with Plantin, is that of Kerver, for it has been employed in over a dozen different forms by one or other members from the end of the fifteenth century to the latter part of the sixteenth. Sometimes there is only one Unicorn on the mark, at others there is a pair. Le Petit Laurens, Paris, was using it contemporaneously with the first Thielman Kerver, and possibly the one copied the other. Sénant, Vivian, Kées, and Pierre Gadoul, Chapelet, and Chavercher, were other Paris printers who used the same idea in their marks before the middle of the sixteenth century. It was long a favourite subject with the Rouen printers, one of the earliest in that city to use it being J. Richard, whose design is particularly original, inasmuch as the shield is supported on one side by a Unicorn, and on the other by a female, possibly intended to represent a saint, an idea which was apparently copied by Symon Vincent, Lyons; the Unicorn was also used in the marks of L. Martin and G. Boulle, both of Lyons; and also in the very rough but original design employed by H. Hesker, Antwerp, 1496; whilst for its quaint originality a special reference may be made to the Mark of François Huby, Paris, of the latter part of the sixteenth century, for in this a Unicorn is represented as chasing an old man. The origin of the Unicorn Mark is essentially Dutch. The editions of the Printer, “à la licorne,” Deft, 1488-94, are well known to students of early printing. The earliest book in which this mark is found is the “Dȳalogus der Creaturen” (“Dialogus Creaturarum”) issued at that city in November, 1488. Henri Eckert de Hombergh and Chr. Snellaert, both of Delf, used a Unicorn in their Marks during the latter years of the fifteenth century.
Among other possible and impossible monsters and subjects of profane history, the Griffin, the Mermaid, the Phœnix, Arion and Hermes has each had its Mark or Marks. In the case of the first named, which, according to Sir Thomas Browne, in his “Vulgar Errors,” is emblematical of watchfulness, courage, perseverance, and rapidity of execution, it is not surprising that the Gryphius family, from the evident pun on their surname, should have considered it as in their particular preserves. As may be imagined, it does not make a pretty device, although under the circumstances its employment is perhaps permissible. Sebastien Gryphius, Lyons, and his brother François, Paris, who were of German parentage, employed the Griffin in about a dozen variations during the first half of the sixteenth century. The Griffin, however, was utilized by Poncet Le Preux, Paris, some years before the Gryphius family came into notoriety, and it was employed contemporaneously with this by B. Aubri, Paris. The Mermaid makes a prettier picture than the Griffin, but its appearance on Printers’ Marks is an equally fantastic vagary of the imagination. In one of the earliest Marks on which it occurs, that of C. Fradin, Lyons, 1505, the shield is supported on one side by a Mermaid, and on the other by a fully-armed knight; half a century after, B. Macé, Caen, had a very clever little Mark in which the Mermaid is not only in her proper element, but holding an anchor in one hand, and combing her hair with the other. During the second quarter of the sixteenth century, the idea was, with variations, used by G. Le Bret, Paris, and J. De Junte, Lyons, as well as by John Rastell, London, 1528, whose shop was at the sign of the Mermaid.
To summarize a few of the less popular designs, it will suffice to give a short list of the vignettes or marks used by the old printers of Paris (except where otherwise stated), alphabetically arranged according to subjects: _Abraham_, Pacard; an _anchor_, Christopher Rapheleng, Leyden, Chouet and Pierre Aubert, Geneva; two _anchors_ crosswise, Thierry Martens, Antwerp, and Nicholas le Rich; one or more _angels_, Legnano, Milan; Henaud and Abel L’Angelier, and Dominic Farri, Venice; _Arion_, Oporinus or Herlist, Brylinger, Louis le Roi, and Pernet, Basle, and Chouet, Geneva; a _Basilisk_ and the four elements, Rogny; _Bellerophon_, the brothers Arnoul and Charles Angeliers; Guillaume Eustace, and Perier, and Bonel, Venice; a _Bull_ with the sign Taurus and the Zodiac, Nicholas Bevilacqua, Turin; a _Cat_ with a mouse in her mouth, Melchior Sessa and Pietro Nicolini, de Sabio, Venice; two _Doves_, Jacques Quesnel; an _Eagle_, Balthazar Bellers, Antwerp, Bladius, Rome, G. Rouille or Roville, Lyons, and the same design--with the motto “Renovabitur ut aquilæ juventus mea”--occurs in the books published in the early years of the seventeenth century by Nicolini, Rabani, Renneri and Co., Venice; the personification of _Fortune_, Bertier, J. Denis (an elaborate and clever design in which a youth is represented climbing the tree of Fortune), and Adrian le Roy and Robert Ballard, Berde and Rigaud, Lyons, and Giovanni and Andrea Zennaro, Venice; a _Fountain_, M. Vascosan, the second Frederic Morel (with a Greek motto importing that the fountain of wisdom flows in books), and Cratander, Basle; a _Heart_, Sebastian Huré and his son-in-law Corbon; _Hercules_, with the motto, “Virtus non territa monstris,” Vitré, Le Maire, Leyden; a _Lion_ rampant, Arry; a lion rampant crowned on a red ground, Gunther Zainer; a lion led by the hand, Jacques Creigher; a lion supporting a column, Mylius, Strassburg, and a lion with a hour glass, Henric Petri, Basle; a _Magpie_, Jean Benat or Bienne; this bird also occurs among Robert Estienne’s Marks, and the same subject, with a serpent twining round a branch was used (according to Horne), by Frederic Morel; _Mercury_, alone or with other classic deities, David Douceur, Biaggio, Lyons; Jean Rossy, Bologne; Verdust, Antwerp, and Hervagius, Basle; a _Pelican_, N. De Guinguant, S. Nivelle, Girault and De Marnef, C. and F. Franceschini, Venice; Mamarelli, Ferrara; F. Heger, Leyden; E. Barricat, Lyons; and Martin Nuyts and his successor who carried on business under the same name, Antwerp; a _Phœnix_, Michael Joli, Wyon, Douay; Leffen, Leyden; Martinelli, Rome; and Giolito, Venice; a _Salamander_, Zenaro, Venice; St. Crespin and Senneton, Lyons; Duversin and Rossi, Rome; a _Stork_, Nivelle and Cramoisy; _St. George and the Dragon_, Michel de Hamont, Brussels; a _Swan_, Blanchet; whilst a swan and a soldier formed the Mark of Peter de Cæsaris and John Stoll, two German printers who were among the earliest to practise the art in Paris.
[Decoration]
SOME GENERAL ASPECTS OF THE PRINTER’S MARK.
From what has already been stated, it will be seen that the Printer’s Mark plays a by no means unimportant part in the early history of illustration,--whether the phase be serious or grotesque, sublime or ridiculous, we find here manifold examples, crude as well as clever. Although it cannot be said with truth that the Mark as an institution reached, like typography itself, its highest degree of perfection at its inception, some of the earlier examples, nevertheless, are also some of the most perfect. The evolution from the small monogram, generally in white on a black ground, to an elaborate picture occupying from a quarter to a whole page, was much less gradual than is generally supposed. The unambitious marks of the first printers were clearly adopted in consonance with the traders’ or merchants’ marks which began to be so generally employed during the latter part of the fifteenth century.
The very natural question, Which was the first Printer’s Mark? admits of an easy answer. It was employed for the first time in the form of the coupled shield of Fust and Schoeffer, in the colophon of the famous Psalter printed by these two men at Mainz in 1457. This book is remarkable as being the costliest ever sold (a perfect copy is valued at 5,000 guineas by Mr. Quaritch): it is the third book printed, and the first having a date, and probably only a dozen copies were struck off for the use of the Benedictine Monastery of St. James at Mainz. It is, however, quite as remarkable for the extraordinary beauty of its initial letters, printed in red and blue ink, the letters being of one colour and the ornamental portion of the other. The Mark of Fust and Schoeffer, it may be mentioned, consists of two printer’s rules in saltaire, on two shields, hanging from a stump, the two rules on the right shield forming an angle of 45°: the adoption of a compositor’s setting-rule was very appropriate. It was nearly twenty years before the introduction of woodcuts into books became general, Gunther Zainer beginning it at Augsburg in 1471-1475. The inception of this movement was naturally followed by a general improvement, or at all events elaboration, of the Printer’s Mark, which, moreover, now began to be printed in colours, as is seen in the Fust and Schoeffer mark in red which appears beneath the colophon of Turrecremata’s Commentary on the Psalms printed by Schoeffer in 1474. Reverting for a moment to the Psalter which has been very properly described as “the grandest book ever produced by Typography,” a very curious fact not at all generally known may be here pointed out. Although the few existing examples with two dates are of the same edition, there are several very curious variations which are well worthy of notice. It will be only necessary, however, in this place to refer to the fact that the beautiful example in the Imperial Library at Vienna--which, from its spotless purity, Heineken calls the “exemplaire vierge”--differs from the others in being without the shield of Fust and Schoeffer, a fact which points to the probability of this copy having been the first struck off.
By the end of the fifteenth century the Printer’s Mark had assumed or was rapidly assuming an importance of which its original introducers had very little conception. Indeed, as early as 1539, a law, according to Dupont, in his “Histoire de l’Imprimerie,” was passed by which these marks or arms of printers and booksellers were protected. Unfortunately the designs were very rarely signed, and it is now impossible to name with any degree of certainty either the artist or engraver, both offices probably in the majority of cases being performed by one man. There is no doubt whatever that Hans Holbein designed some of the very graceful borders and title-pages of Froben, at Basle, during the first quarter of the sixteenth century, and in doing this he included the graceful Caduceus which this famous printer employed. It does not necessarily follow that he was the original designer, although he was in intimate association with Froben when the latter first used this device. The distinctive Mark of Cratander, or Cartander, which appears in the edition of Plutarch’s “Opuscula,” Basel, 1530, has also been confidently attributed to the same artist: if there is any foundation for this statement Holbein was guilty of plagiarism, for this Mark is a very slight modification on one used by the same printer in 1519, and not only so dated but having the artist’s initials, I. F. Those who have the opportunity of examining the “Noctes Atticæ” of Aulus Gellius, printed by Cratander in 1519, will come upon several highly interesting features in connection with this Mark, which is emblematical of Fortune: the elaborately engraved title-page contains an almost exact miniature of the same idea on either side, and it is repeated in a larger form in the border which surrounds the first chapter. The Mark occurs in its full size on the last page of all. The title-page, borders and Mark are all by the same artist, I. F. In the earlier example the woman’s hair completely hides her face, whilst in that of eleven years later it is as seen on the opposite page, and the whole design is more carefully finished. Dürer had dealt with the same subject. In reference to Froben, however, it should be pointed out that his Marks, of which there were several, show considerable variation in their attendant accessories, and that Holbein could not possibly have had anything to do with the majority of them.