Part 37
Printing did not meet with general welcome, but the neglect or opposition it encountered did not come largely from the copyists. The business of the copyist of cheap books was injured, but the only complaint that I have met came from the copyists of Genoa. The calligrapher was indifferent to the growth of the new art, for his skill was never in higher request nor more handsomely rewarded than at the close of the fifteenth century. So far from injuring the business of the calligrapher, printing really improved it, for it largely increased the production of books intended for illumination. The neglect of literary men to note the _Bible of 42 lines_ and the _Catholicon_ of Gutenberg, the delayed establishment of a printing office at Paris, the indifference shown to printing in the great book-making town of Bruges, and the insufficient patronage bestowed on the early printers at Rome, are evidences that there was, in the beginning, a prejudice against printed books much more powerful than that of the copyists. The bibliophiles of the time looked on printed books as the productions of an inartistic trade. The admiration which has been recently invoked for the _Bible of 42 lines_ as a book of nearly perfect workmanship was not expressed by any early book-buyer. It does not appear that any book-lover of that period regarded this work, or the art by which it was made, as of high merit. The error seems pardonable, for the printed book was not as attractive as the manuscript, and no one foresaw the future of printing. Gutenberg may have had a clearer idea than any man living of its capabilities, but it is not probable that he foresaw the wheels within wheels which his types would put in motion, or heard the clash and roar of the innumerable presses for which there should be no night and scarcely a Sunday of rest, or dreamed that books, schools, libraries, newspapers and readers were yet to appear in a world then undiscovered, in numbers so great that they could not be counted. [p511]
The activity of the early printers is remarkable. The task of preserving the literature of the world was fairly done at a very early date. There were not many books that promised to be salable and profitable, and some of them were scarce, and copies were obtained with difficulty—but nearly every valuable book was found and printed. Naudé, the librarian of Cardinal Mazarin, said that, before the year 1474, all the good books, however bulky, had been printed two or three times, to say nothing of many worthless works which should have been burned. The same work was often printed in the same year, by four or five rival printers in as many different cities. The catalogue of Hain very minutely describes 16,290 editions, which, at the low estimate of 300 copies for each edition, represents a total production of 4,887,000 books.[367]
The attention of the literary world was first arrested, not by the possibilities of future usefulness in printing, but by the growing cheapness of books. The early printers offered their books at less than the market prices of manuscripts, but in a few years they were obliged to reduce the prices still lower. The market was soon glutted, and the prices fell rapidly and irretrievably. Chevillier says that, at the close of the century, the price of many books had been reduced by four-fifths. In the preface to a book printed at Rome in 1470, John Andrew, the bishop of Aleria, addressing Pope Pius II, says:
“It reflects no small glory on the reign of your holiness that a tolerably correct copy of such a work as formerly cost more than a hundred crowns may now be purchased for twenty; those that were worth twenty, for four at most. It is a great thing, holy father, to say, that in your time the most estimable authors are attainable at a price little exceeding that of blank parchment or paper.” [p512]
The failure of many early printers to make their business profitable was largely caused by their injudicious selection for publication of bulky theological writings which cost a great deal of money to print, and were salable only to a small class. It was unwisely supposed that printing would receive its great support from the ecclesiastics. With this object in view, the first printers printed almost exclusively in Latin, and generally in the expensive shape of folio, the books which could be read only by the learned, and bought only by the wealthy.[368] The printers’ hopes of profit were rarely ever realized. Only a few like Zell, Mentel and Schœffer became successful merchants of books on dogmatic theology. It was soon discovered that printing could not be supported by ecclesiastics. The printers who had been induced to set up presses in monasteries did not long remain there, nor did the printing and publishing offices which they left prosper for many years. Books of devotion were never in greater request, but books published by the church did not fully meet the popular want.
Nearly all the books printed by Gutenberg and Schœffer were in the Latin language. Whether they overlooked the fact that there was an actual need for books in German, or whether they were restrained in an attempt to print in German, cannot be decided. Other publishers saw the need, and disregarded the restraint, if there was any, to the great inquietude of ecclesiastics, who seem to have had forewarning of the mischief that would be made by types. On the fourth [p513] day of January, 1486, Berthold, the archbishop of Mentz, issued a mandate in which he forbade all persons from printing, publishing, buying or selling books translated from the Greek or Latin, or any other language, before the written translation had been approved by a committee which should be appointed for the purpose from the faculty of the University of Mentz. The penalties were excommunication, confiscation of the books, and a fine of 100 florins of gold.[369]
In Italy the revival of classical literature opened a new field for the publisher, but the demand for Latin authors was limited. In this country, and in others, eagerness for books in the native language was manifested; for books that plain people could read; for books that represented the life and thoughts of the living and not of the dead. The world was getting ready for new teachers and for a new literature—for Luther and Bacon, for Galileo and Shakespeare.
[p514]
XXVI
The Tools and Usages of the Early Printers.
Punches made by Goldsmiths . . . Styles of Types imitated from Manuscripts . . . Popularity of the Gothic . . . Moulded Matrices . . . Types made without any System . . . From an Adjustable Mould . . . Appearance of Early Types . . . Large Fonts made . . . Importance of Mould . . . Rudeness of Early Composition . . . Method of Dictation . . . Faults of Compositors . . . Slowness of Improvement . . . Construction of the Hand-Press, with illustration . . . Inking Balls, with illustration . . . Slowness of Pressmen . . . Printing in Colors . . . Printing Ink . . . Ingredients used by the Ripoli Press . . . Moxon’s Complaints about Ink . . . Neglect of Engraving on Wood . . . Peculiarities of Paper . . . The Degradation of Engraving . . . Proof-reading at Weidenbach . . . Faults of First Editions . . . Superiority of Printed as compared with Manuscript Books . . . Permanence of Gutenberg’s Method.
* * * * *
All invention is progressive. . . . When a new machine is produced, we do not say, Why, it only consists of a number of wheels and cylinders, therefore, surely there is nothing new in it! All the parts may be old, and yet the combination be quite new. To analyse an invention into its several parts, would be equivalent to finding that a poem was only composed of the letters of the alphabet, or the words in a dictionary.
_Dircks._
* * * * *
The first processes in the practice of typography—the cutting of punches and making of moulds—demanded a degree of skill in the handling of tools and of experience in the working of metal rarely found in any man who undertook to learn the art of printing. They were never regarded as proper branches of the printer’s trade, but were, from the beginning, set aside as kinds of work which could be properly done by the goldsmith only. Jenson, Cennini, Sweinheym and Veldener seem to have been the only printers of the fifteenth century who had the preliminary education that would warrant them in attempting to cut punches with their own hands. [p515]
Not every goldsmith[370] could do this work with neatness, and for this reason, as well as for the sake of economy, many beginners bought their matrices from the printers who owned punches. In some cases the types were bought outright, but matrices which gave the means of renewing a worn-out font must have been preferred. That there was a trade in matrices before type-foundries for the trade were established is shown by the appearance of the same face of type in many offices. The Round Gothic types cut by Jenson were frequently used by printers in France and Germany. Certain faces of types used by Caxton and by Van der Goes, by Leeu and Bellaert, by Machlinia and Veldener, are identically the same, and must have been cast from matrices struck from the same punches.
The styles of the early types were not invented by printer or punch-cutter. The Pointed Gothic letters of Gutenberg’s _Bibles_ and of the _Psalter of 1457_ are like those of the choice ecclesiastical manuscripts of that period. The Round Gothic letters of the _Catholicon_ and of the _Letters of Indulgence_ are of the form then used by German copyists in popular books. In Italy, the first types were cut in imitation of the popular form of Roman letters, or in the southern fashion of Round Gothic; in the Netherlands, they present the peculiarities of Flemish writing; in France and Burgundy, they were, for the most part, in the favorite French style of _Bâtarde ancienne_. In no instance did the printer invent a new style: he did [p516] no more than direct his punch-cutter to imitate, as closely as he could, the letters of a meritorious manuscript. In this matter, as well as in the arrangement of types, he followed the fashion set by an approved copyist or calligrapher. The peculiar characters[371] of different languages were produced as they were required, somewhat slowly and of unequal merit, by different printers. The limitations of typography were not fully perceived, and many unsuccessful attempts were made to produce types and sectional wood-cuts that could be used in the construction of maps, ornaments and pictures.[372]
The Gothic character was more popular than the Roman, but there were mechanical reasons why many printers preferred it. It was not so quickly cut, but its broad face, free from hair-lines, was more readily founded. It could be inked with facility and printed with more evenness of color, and it would not show wear as soon as the Roman. Early printers, who had no Roman, were loud in their praises of the Gothic.[373] It was preferred by Verard, Pigouchet, Kerver, and nearly all French and Flemish printers. It did not entirely go out of fashion in Southern Europe nor in France until the close [p517] of the sixteenth century. It might have been supplanted by Roman characters in Germany, if there had not been at this time a strong prejudice against Roman customs and fashions of all kinds. Attempts at change were frequently made, but they were always unsuccessful.
The steel bought for the type-foundry of the Ripoli Press was probably intended for punches. The use of this metal in other type-foundries may be inferred from the sharpness, when new, of many fonts of early types. That the moulds were of brass is indicated by the allusions of early writers and printers to types made in brass. The matrices were of copper, but it is not probable that they were struck in cold metal, for it required great force and still greater discretion to strike the punch truly, and the risk of breaking it had to be hazarded. For the matrices of the large types of Gutenberg’s _Bibles_ and the _Psalter of 1457_, copper softened by heat[374] should have been, and probably was, provided.
When the secrets of type-making had been divulged, the printers who found difficulties in making or buying matrices tried to evade its necessary conditions and cheapen its processes. The types of wood with holes for wire, described by Specklin and others, must have been punches of wood which had been made in the belief that it would be cheaper to cast words than to cast and compose single letters. The matrices of lead noticed by Enschedé were probably made by striking the punch of wood in half-melted metal, after the process described by Didot. The punch of wood, burned by contact with hot metal, was repaired, altered and renewed; the matrix of lead,[375] clogged by the adhesion of metal, became defaced, and was soon worn out. Every change in punch or matrix produced a corresponding change in the cast type. [p518]
The types of the fifteenth century were made without system. The dimensions of each body and the peculiarities of each face were determined chiefly by the manuscript copy which had been selected as the model. No printer had any idea of the advantages to be derived from a series of regularly graduated sizes, nor of the beauty of a series of uniform faces, nor of the great evils they would impose on themselves and their successors by the use of irregular bodies.[376] A classification by scale of the types of any printer of this period will show that there are often wide gaps between the larger, and confusing proximities between the smaller, bodies.[377]
As the size of every body is determined by the mould in which it is cast, it would seem that there must have been a separate mould for every distinct body.[378] But this inference is encumbered with fatal objections. The type-mould of hard metal is, and always has been, a very expensive tool, and it cannot be supposed that any early printer made two or four moulds for one body when one mould would have served. It [p519] is much more probable that he tried to make one mould serve for two or more bodies. The inventor of the mould may have thought that it should be constructed with adjustments, so that it should cast different bodies as well as different widths of types. The practicability of a mould of this description is properly demonstrated by the old-fashioned adjustable mould for irregular bodies, or by the mould used for casting leads, which can be so enlarged or diminished that it will cast many bodies or thicknesses. If we suppose that this mould was used by Gutenberg for casting the two bodies of the _Letters of Indulgence_, and by the unknown printer of the Netherlands for his four bodies of English, and that it was, of necessity, newly set or adjusted each time a new font was cast, we shall at once have a precise explanation of irregularities which are unaccountable under any other hypothesis. Casting types without the system, standards and gauges which modern type-founders use, it is not surprising that the first printers made types with differences of body. It was the impracticability of casting in this primitive mould, at different times, types of uniform body, that compelled later type-founders to discard it, and to use instead a mould for each body.
[From Madden.]]
The casting of the types, which was always done in the printing office, was then adjudged a proper part of a printer’s trade. The earlier chroniclers said the first types were made of lead and tin. The Cost Book of the Ripoli Press specifies these metals, and obscurely mentions another which seems to have been one of the constituents of type-metal. If this conjecture can be accepted, types were probably made in the fifteenth century, as they are now, of lead, tin and antimony.[380] Not one of the millions of types founded during the fifteenth [p520] century has been preserved, nor is there in any old book an engraving or a description of a type. This neglected information has been unwittingly furnished by a careless pressman in the office of Conrad Winters, who printed at Cologne in 1476. This pressman, or his mate, when inking a slackly justified form, permitted the inking ball to pull out a thin-bodied type, which dropped sideways on the face of the form. The accident was not noticed; the tympan closed upon the form, and the bed was drawn under the platen. Down came the screw and platen, jamming the unfortunate type in the form, and embossing it strongly in the fibres of the thick wet paper, in a manner which reveals to us the shape of Winters’ types more truthfully than it could have been done even by special engraving. The height[381] of this type is a trifle less than one American inch. The sloping shoulder, or the beard, as it was once called, was made to prevent the blackening of the paper, for it would have been blackened if the shoulder had been high and square.[382] The circular mark, about [p521] one-tenth of an inch diameter, on the side of the type, was firmly depressed in the metal, but did not perforate it. As this type had no nick on the body, it is apparent that the circular mark was cast there to guide the compositor. When the type was put in the stick with the mark facing outward, the compositor knew, without looking at the face, that it was rightly placed. There is no groove at the foot. Duverger says that the early types had no jet or breaking-piece; that the superfluous metal was cut off, and the type made of proper height by sawing.[383] These details may seem trifling, but they are of importance: they show that, in the more important features, the types of the early printers closely resembled ours.
There is a disagreement among bibliographers about the quantity of types ordinarily cast for a font by the early printers. Some, judging from appearances which show that one page only was printed at an impression, say that they cast types for two or three pages only; others maintain that they must have had very large fonts. That the latter view is correct seems fully established after a survey of the books known to have been printed by Zell, Koburger, Leeu, and others. It would have been impossible to print these books in the short period in which we know they were done, if the printer had not been provided with abundance of types.[384] As the types were made in the printing office, by a quick method, from an alloy which could be used repeatedly for the same purpose, the supply was rarely limited by fear of expense.
The trades of compositor and pressman, and possibly that of type-caster, were kept about as distinct then as they are now. There were more compositors than pressmen, and the [p522] compositors, says Madden, in the heroic age of printing, were not boys, but men of education and intelligence. The early printers who were taught the business that they might become masters had to pay a premium for their education.[385] In the brief time that they gave to the work, their education must have been more theoretical than practical. As the branch of composition required the largest number of workmen, and more intelligence, and less manual labor than any other, it was usually selected by the pupil for practice. Of type-casting and presswork he learned no more than was sufficient to enable him to direct the labors of his future workmen. The knowledge of the trade which the pupil coveted was the ability to practise it on his own account, and this knowledge was, in most instances, satisfactorily acquired when he got a theoretical knowledge of its secret processes.
The frequent specification of the _formen_ in the earliest notices of printing shows that the mould, with its accompanying matrices, was regarded as the key to the knowledge and practice of the art. As the moulds were made by master mechanics, not bound to secrecy, and as the earlier compositors had some knowledge of the process of type-casting, it was not difficult for a journeyman to become a master printer. When he had bought a type-mould and matrices, he could go to any city and begin to print books. He could cast types and mix ink as he needed them; he could buy paper and the constituents of type-metal in any large town; properly instructed, any joiner could make the press.[386]
The annexed illustration, a fac-simile of one of Amman’s engravings of a printing office, is from his book dated 1564. [p523] The case for the type is of one piece and is resting on a rude frame. All the boxes are represented as of the same size, but this is probably an error, for it is an error which is frequently made by designers of this day.[387] In this, and in many other early illustrations of type-setting, the compositors are seated on stools. In Italy and in Paris, women were employed as compositors. In the wood-cut used by Jodocus Badius[388] for a trade-mark, we see a hard-featured dame before a narrow case, composing types with judicial deliberation. She has in her left hand a narrow composing stick, made to hold but two or three lines of small types. The early stick was not like the neatly finished iron tool of our time, with steel composing rule and an adjustable screw and knee adapting it to any measure. It was a real stick of wood, a home-made strip of deal, with the side and end-piece tacked on. For every measure a new stick or a retacking of the movable piece was required. The date of the introduction of the stick cannot be fixed, but it was used, without alteration for many years, by the printers of all countries. It is possible that some of the early printers [p524] had no sticks. The peculiar workmanship of the unknown printer and of Albert Pfister shows that the types were taken direct from the case and wedged in the mortised blocks of wood which served for chases. Blades attributes the uneven spacing and irregular endings of lines in the early printed books of Caxton and of other printers, to their ignorance of the advantages of a composing rule, without which types could not be readily moved to and fro, and adjusted.[389]
In the following illustration, the compositor has the copy before her in the shape of a book, but Conrad Zeltner, a learned printer of the seventeenth century, said that this was not the early usage; that it was customary to employ a reader to read aloud to the compositors, who set the types from dictation, not seeing the copy. He also says that the reader could dictate from as many different pages or copies to three or four compositors working together.[390] When the compositors were educated, the method of dictation may have been practised with some success; when they were ignorant, it was sure to produce many errors. Zeltner said that he preferred the old method, but he admits that it had to be abandoned, on account of the increasing ignorance of the compositors. [p525]