Livre d

’Heures d’Anne de Bretagne,” which the painter seems to have adopted as his model.

[Illustration: Fig. 377.--Escutcheon of France, taken from some Ornaments in the Manuscript of the “Institution of the Order of the Holy Ghost.” (Fourteenth Century.)]

BOOKBINDING

Primitive Binding of Books.--Bookbinding among the Romans.--Bookbinding with Goldsmith’s Work from the Fifth Century.--Chained Books.--Corporation of _Lieurs_, or Bookbinders.--Books bound in Wood, with Metal Corners and Clasps.--First Bindings in Leather, honeycombed (_waffled_?) and gilt.--Description of some celebrated Bindings of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries.--Sources of Modern Bookbinding.--John Grollier.--President De Thou.--Kings and Queens of France Bibliomaniacs.--Superiority of Bookbinding in France.

As soon as the ancients had made square books, more convenient to read than the rolls, binding--that is to say, the art of reuniting the leaves stitched or stuck (_ligati_) into a movable back, between two square pieces of wood, ivory, metal, or leather--bookbinding was invented. This primitive binding, which had no other object than that of preserving the books, no other merit than than of solidity, was not long ere it became associated with ornament, and thus put itself in relation with the luxury of Greek and Roman civilisation. Not contented with placing on each side of the volume a little tablet of cedar-wood or of oak, on which was written the title of the book (for books were then laid flat on the shelves of the library), a piece of leather was stretched over the edge to preserve it from dust, if the book was valuable, and the volume was tied up with a strap passed round it many times, and which was subsequently replaced by clasps. In certain instances the volume was enveloped in thick cloth, and even enclosed in a case of wood or leather. Such was the state of bookbinding in ancient times.

There were then, as now, good and bad bookbinders. Cicero, in his letters to Atticus, asks for two of his slaves who were very clever _ligatores librorum_ (bookbinders). Bookbinding, however, was not an art very generally known, for square books, notwithstanding the convenience of their shape, had not yet superseded rolls; but we see, in the Notices of the Dignities of the Eastern Empire (“Notitia Dignitatum Imperii), written towards 450, that this accessory art had already made immense progress; since certain officers of the empire used to carry, in the public ceremonies, large square books containing the administrative instructions of the emperor: these books were bound, covered with green, red, blue, or yellow leather, closed by means of leathern straps or by hooks, and ornamented with little golden rods disposed horizontally, or lozengewise, with the portrait of the sovereign painted or gilt on their sides. From the fifth century goldsmiths and lapidaries ornamented binding with great richness. And so we hear St. Jerome exclaiming:--“Your books are covered with precious stones, and Christ died naked before the gate of his temple!” “The Book of the Gospels,” in Greek, given to the basilica of Monza by Theodelinda, queen of the Lombards, about 600, has still one of these costly bindings.

A specimen of Byzantine art, preserved in the Louvre, is a sort of small plate, which is supposed to be one of the sides of the cover of a book; on it we find executed in bas-relief the “Visit of the Holy Women to the Tomb,” and several other scenes from the Gospels. In this example the beauty of the figures, the taste which dictated the arrangement of the draperies, and the finish in the execution, furnish us with evidence that, in the industrial arts, the Greeks had maintained till the twelfth century their pre-eminence over all the people of Europe.

In those days the binding of ordinary books was executed without any ornamentation, this being reserved for sacred books. If, in the treasures of churches, abbeys, and palaces, a few manuscripts covered with gold, silver, and precious stones were kept as relics, books in common use were simply covered in boards or leather; but not without much attention being given to the binding, which was merely intended to preserve the volumes. Many documents bear witness to the great care and precision with which, in certain monasteries, books were bound and preserved. All sorts of skins were employed in covering them when they had been once pressed and joined together between boards of hard wood that would not readily decay: in the North, even the skins of seals and of sharks were employed, but pig-skin seems to have been used in preference to all others.

[Illustration: PANEL OF A BOOK COVER.

Bas-relief in Gold Repoussé. Ninth Century. (in the Louvre.)]

It must be admitted that we, perhaps, owe to their rich bindings, which were well calculated to tempt thieves, the destruction of a number of valuable manuscripts when towns or monasteries were sacked; but, on the other hand, the sumptuous bindings with which kings and nobles covered Bibles, the Gospels, antiphonaries,[58] and missals, have certainly preserved to us very many curious examples that, without them, would by degrees have deteriorated, or would not have escaped all the chances of destruction to which they were exposed. It is thus, for instance, that the famous manuscript of Sens has descended to us, which contains “La Messe des Fous,” set to music in the twelfth century; it is bound between two pieces of ivory, with bas-relief carvings of the fourth century, representing the festivals of Bacchus. All great public collections show with pride some of these rare and venerable bindings, decorated with gold, silver, or copper, engraved, chased, or inlaid with precious stones or coloured glass, with cameos or antique ivories (Fig. 378). The greater number of rich books of the Gospels mentioned in history date back as far as the period of Charlemagne, and among these we must mention, above all, one given by the emperor himself to the Abbey of St. Riquier, “covered with plates of silver, and ornamented with gold and gems;” that of St. Maximinius of Treves, which came from Ada, daughter of Pepin, sister of Charlemagne, and was ornamented with an engraved agate representing Ada, the emperor, and his sons; and lastly, one that was to be seen as late as 1727 in the convent of Hautvillers, near Epernay, and which was bound in carved ivory.

Sometimes these sumptuous volumes were enclosed in an envelope made of rich stuff; or, in pursuance of an ancient custom, a casket not less gorgeously decorated than the binding, contained it. The Prayer-book of Charlemagne, now preserved in the Library of the Louvre, is known to have been originally enclosed in a small casket of silver gilt, on which were represented in relief the “Mysteries of the Passion.”

These books, however, bound with goldsmith’s work, were not those that were chained in churches and in certain libraries (Fig. 379), as some volumes still in existence show, with the rings through which passed the chain that fastened them to the desk. These _catenati_ (chained books) were generally Bibles and missals, bound in wood and heavily ornamented with metallic corners; which, while placed at the disposition of the faithful and of the public in general, their owners wished to guarantee against being stolen.

[Illustration: Fig. 378.--Binding in Gold, adorned with precious Stones which covered a “Book of the Gospels” of the Eleventh Century, representing Jesus Crucified, with the Virgin and St. John at the Foot of the Cross.

(Musée du Louvre).]

We must not forget to mention, among the most beautiful bindings of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the coverings of books in enamelled copper (Fig. 380). The Museum of Cluny possesses two plates of incrusted enamel of Limoges, which must have belonged to one of these bindings: the first has for its subject the “Adoration of the Magi;” the other

[Illustration: IVORY DIPTYCH OF THE LOWER EMPIRE.

Serving as a Book Cover, “l’Office des fous.”. (In the Library of Sens)]

represents the monk Etienne de Muret, founder of the order of Grandmont (in the twelfth century), conversing with St. Nicholas. The Cathedral of Milan contains in its treasury the covering of a book still more ancient and much richer, about fourteen inches long by twelve inches wide, and profusely covered with incrusted enamel, mounted and ornamented with polished, but uncut, precious stones of various colours.

[Illustration: Fig. 379.--Library of the University of Leyden, in which all the Books were chained, even in the Seventeenth Century.]

But all these were only the work of enamellers, goldsmiths, illuminators, and clasp-makers. The binders, or bookbinders properly so called, fastened together the leaves of books, and placed them between two boards, which they then covered with leather, skin, stuff, or parchment; they added to these coverings sometimes leathern straps, sometimes metal clasps, sometimes hooks, to keep the volume firmly closed, and almost always nails, whose round and projecting heads preserved the flat surface of the binding from being rubbed.

In the year 1299, when the tax was imposed upon the inhabitants of Paris for the exigencies of the king, it was ascertained that the number of bookbinders then actually in the town amounted only to seventeen, who, as well as the scribes and booksellers, were directly dependent on the

[Illustration: Fig. 380.--Large Painted Initial Letter in a Manuscript in the Royal Library, Brussels, showing the arrangement of the Binding, in enamelled Metal, of a book of the Gospels. (Ninth or Tenth Century.)]

University, the authorities of which placed them under the surveillance of four sworn bookbinders, who were considered the _agents_ of the University. We must except, however, from this jurisdiction the acknowledged bookbinder to the “Chambre des Comptes,” who, before he could be appointed to this office, had to make an affirmation _that he could neither read nor write_.

In the musters, or processions, of the University of Paris, the bookbinders came after the booksellers. To explain the relatively small number of professed bookbinders, we must remember that at this period the majority of scholars bound their own books, as divers passages of ancient authors prove; while the monasteries, which were the principal centres of bookmakers, had one or many members of their community whose special function it was to bind the works written within their walls. Tritheimius, Abbot of Spanheim at the end of the fifteenth century, does not forget the bookbinders in the enumeration he makes of the different employments of his monks:--“Let that one,” says he, “fasten the leaves together, and bind the book with boards. You, prepare those boards; you, dress the leather; you, the metal plates, which are to adorn the binding.” These bindings are represented on the seal of the University of Oxford (Fig. 381), and on the banners of some French corporation of printers and booksellers (Figs. 382 and 386).

The metal plates, the corners, the nails, the clasps with which these volumes were then laden rendered them so heavy that, in order to enable the reader to turn over the leaves with facility, they were placed on one of those revolving desks having space for many open folios at the same time, and which were capable of accommodating many readers simultaneously. It is said that Petrarch had caused a volume containing the “Epistles of Cicero,” transcribed by himself, to be bound so massively, that as he was continually reading it, he often let it fall and injured his leg; so badly once that he was threatened with amputation. This manuscript in Petrarch’s handwriting is still to be seen in the Laurentian Library at Florence; it is bound in wood, with edges and clasps of copper.

The Crusades, which introduced into Europe many luxurious customs, must have had great influence on bookbinding, since the Arabs had for a long while known the art of preparing, dyeing, stamping, and gilding the skins they employed to make covers for books: these covers took the name of _alæ_ (the wings), no doubt from the resemblance between them and the wings of a bird of rich plumage. The Crusaders having brought back from their expeditions specimens of Oriental binding, our European workmen did not fail to turn their brilliant models to account.

[Illustration: Fig. 381.--Seal of the University of Oxford, in which is a Book bound with Corners and Clasps.]

An entire revolution, moreover, which had taken place in the formation of royal and princely libraries, was to produce a revolution in binding also. Bibles, missals, reproductions of ancient authors, treatises on theology, were no longer the only books in common use. The new language had given rise to histories, romances, and poems, which were the delight of a society becoming more and more polished every day. For the pleasure of readers, the gallant of one sex and the fair of the other, books were required more agreeable to the eye, and less rough to the touch, than those used for the edification of monks or the instruction of scholars. And first of all were substituted, for the purpose of manuscripts, sizes more portable than the grave folio. Then fine and smooth vellum was used for writing, and books were covered in velvet, silk, or woollen stuffs. Moreover, paper, a recent invention, opened up a new era for libraries; but two centuries were to elapse before pasteboard had entirely taken the place of wooden covers.

It is in the inventories, in the accounts, and in the archives of kings and princes, we must look for the history of bookbinding in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (Fig. 383). We shall limit ourselves to giving a description of some costly bindings, taken from the inventories of the magnificent libraries of the Dukes of Burgundy and of Orleans, now partly destroyed, and partly scattered about among the great public collections of France and other countries.

[Illustration: Fig. 382.--Banner of the Corporation of Printers-Booksellers of Angers.]

Belonging to the Dukes of Burgundy, Philip the Bold, Jean sans Peur, and Philip the Good, we see a small Book of the Gospels and of the “Heures de la Croix” (a kind of prayer-book), with “a binding embellished with gold and fifty-eight large pearls, in a case made of camlet, with one large pearl and a cluster of small pearls;” the romance of the “Moralité des Hommes sur le Ju (jeu) des Eschiers” (the game of chess), “covered in silk, with white and red flowers, and silver-gilt nails, on a green ground;” a Book of Orisons, “covered in red leather, with silver-gilt nails;” a Psalter, “having two silver-gilt clasps, bound in blue, with a golden eagle with two heads and red talons, to which is attached a little silver-gilt instrument for turning over the leaves, with three escutcheons of the same arms, covered with a red velvet _chemise_.”[59]

[Illustration: Fig. 383.--Fragment of an engraved and stamped Binding in an unknown Material (Fifteenth Century), representing the mystical Chase of the Unicorn, which is taking refuge in the lap of the Virgin.

(Public Library, Rouen.)]

The _chemise_ was a sort of pocket in which certain valuable books were enveloped. The “Heures de St. Louis” (St. Louis’s Prayer-book), now in the Musée des Souverains, is still in its _chemise_ of red sandal-wood.

Belonging to the Duke of Orleans, brother of Charles VI., we find Végèce’s book, “On Chivalry,” “covered in red leather inlaid, which has two little brass clasps;” the book of “Meliadus,” “covered in green velvet, with two silver-gilt clasps, enamelled with the arms of his Royal Highness;” the book of Boèce, “On Consolation,” “covered in figured silk;” “The Golden Legend,” “covered in black velvet, without clasps;” the “Heures de Notre-Dame,” “covered in white leather.”

The same inventories give an account of the prices paid for some bindings and their accessories. Thus, in 1386, Martin Lhuillier, a bookseller at Paris, received from the Duke of Burgundy 16 francs (equivalent to about 114 francs French money of the present time), “for binding eight books, of which six were covered in grained leather;” on Sept. 19, 1394, the Duke of Orleans paid to Peter Blondel, goldsmith, 12 livres 15 sols, “for having _wrought_, besides the duke’s silver seal, two clasps” for the book of Boèce; and on Jan. 15, 1398, to Émelot de Rubert, an embroideress at Paris, 50 _sols tournois_, “for having cut out and worked in gold and silk two covers of green Dampmas cloth, one for the Breviary, the other for the Book of Hours of the aforesaid nobleman, and for having made fifteen markers (_sinets_) and four pair of silk and gold straps for the said books.”

The old style of thick, heavy, in some sort armour-plated, binding, could not exist long after the invention of printing, which, while multiplying books, diminished their weight, reduced their size, and, moreover, gave them a less intrinsic value. Wooden boards were replaced by compressed cardboard, nails and clasps were gradually laid aside, and stuffs of different kinds no longer used; only skin, leather, and parchment were employed. This was the beginning of modern binding; but bookbinders were as yet but mechanics working for the booksellers, who, when they had on their premises a bookbinding-room (Fig. 384), assumed, in their editions, the double title of _libraire-relieur_ (bookseller-bookbinder) (Fig. 385). In 1578, Nicholas Eve still placed on his books and his sign-board, “Bookseller to the University of Paris and Bookbinder to the King.” No volume was sold unbound.

From the end of the fifteenth century, although bookbinding was always considered as an adjunct to the bookseller’s shop, certain amateurs who had a taste for art required richer and more _recherché_ exteriors for their books. Italy set us the example of beautiful bindings in morocco, stamped and gilt; imitated, however, from those of the Koran and other Arabian manuscripts, which Venetian navigators frequently brought back with them from the East. The expedition of Charles VIII. and the wars of Louis XII. introduced into France not only Italian bindings, but Italian binders also. Without renouncing, however, at least for the _livres d’heures_, the bindings ornamented with goldsmith’s work and gems, France had very soon binders of her own, surpassing those who had been to them as initiators or masters. Jean Grollier, of Lyons, loved books too much not to wish to give them an exterior ornamentation worthy of the wealth of knowledge they contained. Treasurer of War, and Intendant of the Milanese before the battle of Pavia, he had begun to create a library, which he subsequently transported into France, and did not cease to enlarge and to enrich till his death, which happened in 1565. His books were bound in morocco from the Levant, with such care and taste that, under the supervision of this exacting amateur, bookbinding seemed to have already attained perfection.

[Illustration: Fig. 384.--Bookbinders’ Work-room, drawn and engraved in the Sixteenth Century, by J. Amman.]

Princes and ladies of the court prided themselves on their love of books and the desire to acquire them; they founded libraries, and encouraged the works and inventions of good bookbinders who produced masterpieces of patience and ability in decorating the covers of books, either with enamelled paintings, or with mosaics made of different pieces inlaid, or with plain gildings stamped on the surface with small irons. It would be impossible to enumerate the splendid bindings in all styles that the French bookbinders of the sixteenth century have left us, and which have never been surpassed since. The painter, the engraver, and even the goldsmith, co-operated with the bookbinder in his art, by furnishing him with designs for ornaments. We now see reappearing some plates obtained from hot or cold dies, representing various subjects, and the designs from which they were taken, reproduced from those that had been in fashion towards the beginning of the sixteenth century, were often drawn by distinguished artists, such as Jean Cousin, Stephen de Laulne, &c.

[Illustration: Fig. 385.--Mark of William Eustace (1512), Bookseller and Binder, Paris.]

Nearly all the French kings, especially the Valois, were passionately fond of splendid bindings. Catherine de Medicis was such a connoisseur of finely-bound books, that authors and booksellers, who eagerly presented her with copies of their works, tried to distinguish themselves in the choice and beauty of the bindings which they had made expressly for her. Henry III., who appreciated handsomely-bound books no less than his mother, invented a very singular binding, when he had instituted the Order of “Penitents;” this consisted of death’s heads and cross bones, tears, crosses, and other instruments of the Passion, gilt or stamped on black morocco leather, and having the following device, “Spes mea Deus” (“God is my hope”), with or without the arms of France.

It is impossible to associate these superb bindings with the usual and common work executed at the booksellers’ shops, and under their superintendence. Some booksellers of Paris and of Lyons, the houses of Gryphe and Tournes, of Estienne and Vascosan, paid a little more attention, however, than others of the fraternity, to the binding of books which they sold to the reading public; they adopted patterns of dun-coloured calf, in compartments; or white vellum, with fillets and arabesques in gold, fine specimens of which are now very rare.

At this period Italian bookbinding had reached the most complete state of decadency, while in Germany and other parts of Europe the old massive bindings,--bindings in wood, leather, and parchment, with fastenings of iron or brass,--still held their ground. In France, however, the binders, whom the booksellers kept in a state of obscurity and servitude, had not even been able to form themselves into a guild or fraternity. They might produce masterpieces of their art, but were not allowed to append their names to their works; and we must come down as far as the famous _Gascon_ (1641) before we can introduce the name of any illustrious bookbinder.

[Illustration: Fig. 386.--Banner of the Corporation of Printers-Booksellers of Autun.]

PRINTING

Who was the Inventor of Printing?--Movable Letters in Ancient Times.--Block Printing.--Laurent Coster.--_Donati_ and _Specula_.--Gutenberg’s Process.--Partnership of Gutenberg and Faust.--Schoeffer.--The Mayence Bible.--The Psalter of 1457.--The “Rationale” of 1459.--Gutenburg prints by himself.--The “Catholicon” of 1460.--Printing at Cologne, Strasbourg, Venice, and Paris.--Louis XI. and Nicholas Jenson.--German Printers at Rome.--_Incunabula._--Colart Mansion.--Caxton.--Improvement of Typographical Processes up to the Sixteenth Century.

Fifteen towns have laid claim to the honour of being the birthplace of printing, and writers who have applied themselves to search out the origin of this admirable invention, far from coming to any agreement on the point in their endeavours to clear up the question, have only confused it. Now, however, after many centuries of learned and earnest controversy, there only remain three antagonistic propositions, with three names of towns, four names of inventors, and three different dates. The three places are Haarlem, Strasbourg, and Mayence; the four inventors, Laurent Coster, Gutenberg, Faust, and Schoeffer; the three dates which are assigned to the invention of printing are 1420, 1440, 1450. In our opinion these three propositions, which some try to combat and destroy by opposing each to the other, ought, on the contrary, to be blended into one, and combined chronologically in such a manner as to represent the three principal periods of the discovery of printing.

There is no doubt that printing existed in the germ in ancient times; that it was known and made use of by the ancients. There were stamps and seals bearing legends traced the wrong way, from which positive impressions were obtained on papyrus or parchment, in wax, ink, or colour. We are shown, in museums, plates of copper or of cedar-wood, covered with characters carved or cut out in them, which seem to have been intended for the purpose of printing, and which resemble the block plates of the fifteenth century.

[Illustration: Fig. 387.--Ancient Wood-block Print, cut in Flanders before 1440, representing Jesus Christ after his Flagellation. (Delbecq’s Collection, Ghent.)]

Something very much like the process of printing in movable type is described by Cicero in a passage in which he refutes the doctrine of Epicurus on the creation of the world by atoms: “Why not believe, also, that by throwing together, indiscriminately, innumerable forms of letters of the alphabet, either in gold or in any other substance, one can _print_ with these letters, on the ground, the _Annals_ of Ennius?” The movable letters possessed by the ancients were carved in box-wood or ivory; but they were only employed for teaching children to read, as Quinctilian testifies in his “Oratorical Institutions,” and St. Jerome in his “Epistles.” There was then only wanting a fortunate chance to cause this carved alphabet to create the typographic art fifteen centuries earlier than its actual birth.

[Illustration: Fig. 388.--Fac-simile of an Engraving on Wood, by an ancient Flemish Engraver (about 1438); which was inserted, after the manner of a Miniature, in a Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century, containing Prayers for the use of the People. (Delbecq’s Collection, Ghent.)]

“The art of taking impressions once discovered,” says M. Léon de Laborde, “and applied to engraving in relief, gave rise to printing, which was only the perfection to which a natural and rapid progression of attempts and efforts would naturally lead.” “But it was only,” adds M. Ambroise-Firmin Didot, “when the art of making paper--that art familiar to the Chinese from the beginning of our era--spread in Europe and became generally known, that the reproduction, by pressing, of texts, figures, playing-cards, &c., first by the tabular process, called _xylography_ (block-printing), then with movable types, became easy, and was consequently to appear simultaneously in different places.”

[Illustration: Fig. 389.--Wood-block, cut in France, about 1440, representing an Image of St. James the Great, with one of the Commandments as a Text. (Imperial Library, Paris, Collection of Prints.)]

But, at the end of the fourteenth century, at Haarlem, in Holland, wood-engraving had been discovered, and consequently _tabular impression_, with which the Chinese, it is said, were already acquainted three or four hundred years before the modern era. Perhaps it was some Chinese book or pack of cards brought to Haarlem by a merchant or a navigator, that revealed to the cardmakers and printsellers of the industrious Netherlands a process of impressing more expeditious and more economical. Xylography began on the day when a legend was engraved on a wood-block; this legend, limited at first to a few lines, very soon occupied a whole page; then this page was not long in becoming a volume (Fig. 387 to 389).

Here is an extract from the account given by Adrian Junius, in his Latin work entitled “Batavia,” of the discovery of printing at Haarlem, written in 1572:--“More than one hundred and thirty-two years ago there lived at Haarlem, close to the royal palace, one John Laurent, surnamed Coster (or governer), for this honourable post came to him by inheritance, being handed down in his family from father to son. One day, about 1420, as he was walking after dinner in a wood near the town, he set to work and cut the bark of beech-trees into the shape of letters, with which he traced, on paper, by pressing one after the other upon it, a model composed of many lines for the instruction of his children. Encouraged by this success, his genius took a higher flight, and then, in concert with his son-in-law, Thomas Pierre, he invented a species of ink more glutinous and tenacious than that employed in writing, and he thus printed figures (_images_) to which he added his wooden letters. I have myself seen many copies of this first attempt at printing. The text is on one side only of the paper. The book printed was written in the vulgar tongue, by an anonymous author, having as its title ‘Speculum nostræ Salutis’ (‘The Mirror of our Salvation’). Later, Laurent Coster changed his wooden types into leaden, then these into pewter. Laurent’s new invention, encouraged by studious men, attracted from all parts an immense concourse of purchasers. The love of the art increased, the labours of his workshop increased also, and Laurent was obliged to add hired workmen to the members of his family, to assist in his operations. Among these workmen there was a certain John, whom I suspect of being none other than Faust, who was treacherous and fatal to his master. Initiated, under the seal of an oath, into all the secrets of printing, and having become very expert in casting type, in setting it up, and in the other processes of his trade, this John took advantage of a Christmas evening, while every one was in church, to rifle his master’s workshop and to carry off his typographical implements. He fled with his booty to Amsterdam, thence to Cologne, and afterwards to Mayence, where he established himself; and calculating upon safety here, set up a printing-office. In that very same year, 1422, he printed with the type which Laurent had employed at Haarlem, a grammar then in use, called ‘Alexandri Galli Doctrinale,’ and a ‘Treatise of Peter the Spaniard’ (‘Petri Hispani Tractatus’).”

This account, which came, indeed, rather late, although the author referred to the most respectable authorities in support of it, met at first with nothing but incredulity and contempt. At this period the right of Mayence to be considered the birthplace of printing could only be seriously counterbalanced by the right Strasbourg had to be so considered. The three names of Gutenberg, of Faust, and of Schœffer were already consecrated by universal gratitude. Everywhere, then, except in Holland, this new testimony was rejected; everywhere the new inventor, whose claim had just been made for a share of the honour, was rejected as an apocryphal or legendary being. But very soon, however, criticism, raising itself above the influences of nationality, took up the question, discussed the account given by Junius, examined that famous “Speculum” which no one had yet pointed out, proved the existence of xylographic impressions, sought for those which could be attributed to Coster, and opposed to the Abbé Tritheim (or Trithemius), who had written on the origin of printing from information furnished by Peter Schœffer himself, the more disinterested testimony of the anonymous chronicler of Cologne in 1465, who had learned from Ulric Zell, one of Gutenberg’s workmen, and the first printer of Cologne in 1465, this important peculiarity:--“Although the typographic art was invented at Mayence,” says he, “nevertheless the first rough sketch of this art was invented in Holland, and it is in imitation of the ‘Donatus’ (the Latin syntax by Cœlius Donatus, a grammarian of the fourth century, a book then in use in the schools of Europe), which long before that time was printed there; it is in imitation of this, and on account of it, that the said art began under the auspices of Gutenberg.”

If Gutenberg imitated the “Donatus,” which was printed in Holland before the time he himself printed at Mayence, Gutenberg was not the inventor of printing. It was in 1450 that Gutenberg began to print at Mayence (Fig. 390); but from as early a date as 1436 he had tried to print at Strasbourg; and, before his first attempts, there had been printed in Holland,--at Haarlem, and Dordrecht,--“Specula” and “Donati” on wooden boards; a process known by the name of _xylography_ (engraving on wood), while the attempts at _typography_ (printing with movable type) made by Gutenberg entirely differed from the other; since the letters, engraved at first on steel points (_poinçons_), and afterwards forced into a copper matrix reproduced by means of casting in a metal more fusible than copper the impress of the point on shanks (_tiges_) made of pewter or lead, hardened by an alloy (Fig. 391).

Now, a rather singular circumstance comes to corroborate what was said by Adrian Junius. A Latin edition of the “Speculum,” an in-folio of sixty-three leaves, with wood engravings in two compartments at the head of each leaf, consists of a mixture of twenty xylographic leaves, and of forty-one leaves printed with movable type, but very imperfect, and cast in moulds which were probably made of baked earth: an edition of a Dutch “Speculum,” in folio, has also two pages in a type smaller and closer than the rest of the text. How are we to explain these anomalies? On the one hand, a mixture of xylography and typography; on the other, a combination of two different kinds of movable type. My hypothesis is, if indeed the details given by Junius, open to suspicion as they are, be correct, that the dishonest workman who, according to his own account, stole the implements

[Illustration: Fig. 390.--Fac-simile of a Page of the most ancient Xylographie “Donatus” (Chapter on Prepositions), printed at Mayence, by Fust and Gutenberg, about 1450.]

employed in the workshop of Laurent Coster, and who must have acted with a certain amount of precipitation, contented himself with carrying off some forms of the “Speculum” just ready for the press. The type employed for twenty or twenty-two pages was sufficient to serve as models for a counterfeit edition, and also for a book of small extent, such as the “Alexandri Galli Doctrinale,” and the “Petri Hispani Tractatus.” It is probable that the Latin and Dutch editions of the “Speculum” were both entirely composed, set up, and prepared for the text to be struck off, when the thief took at hazard the twenty-two forms, which he determined to turn to account, at any rate as a model for the counterfeit edition he intended to publish. In cast-iron type, these forms could not have weighed more than sixty pounds; in wooden type, not half as much; if we add to these the composing-sticks, the pincers, the galleys, and other indispensable elements of the trade, we shall find that the booty was not beyond the strength of a man to carry easily on his shoulders. As for the press, about that there could be no question, since the impressions produced at Haarlem were made with a pad and by hand, as is still the case with playing-cards and prints.

[Illustration: Fig. 391.--Portrait of Gutenberg, from an Engraving of the Sixteenth Century.

(Imperial Library of Paris, Print Room.)]

It remains now to discover who was this John who appropriated the secret of printing, and took it from Haarlem to Mayence. Was it John Fust or Faust, as Adrian Junius suspected? Was it John Gutenberg, as many Dutch writers have alleged? or was it not rather John Gensfleisch the elder, a relation of Gutenberg, as, from a very explicit passage of the learned Joseph Wimpfeling, his contemporary, the latest defenders of the Haarlem tradition think? The question is still undecided.

The “Speculum,” however, is not the only book of the kind which

[Illustration: Fig. 392.--Fac-simile of the Twenty-eighth Xylographic Page of the “Biblia Pauperum;” representing, with Texts taken from the Old Testament, David slaying Goliath, and Christ causing the Souls of the Patriarchs and Prophets to come out of Purgatory.]

had appeared in the Low Countries before the period assigned to the discovery of printing in Holland. Some of these were evidently xylographic, others show signs of having been printed with movable type of wood, not of metal. All have engravings of the same character as those of the “Speculum,” especially the “Biblia Pauperum” (“Poor Men’s Bible”) (Fig. 392), the “Ars Moriendi” (“The Art of Dying”) (Fig. 393) the “Ars Memorandi” (“The Art of Remembering”), which had a very wide circulation.

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.”

Fust and Schœffer did not the less continue to print books with indefatigable ardour. In 1462 they completed a new edition of the Bible, much more perfect than that of 1456, and of which copies were probably sold, as were those of the first edition, as manuscripts, especially in countries where, as in France, printing did not already exist. It seems that the appearance in Paris of this Bible, (called the Mayence Bible), greatly excited the community of scribes and booksellers, who saw in the new method of producing books, _without the aid of the pen_, “the destruction of their trade.” They charged, it is said, the sellers of these books with magic; but it is more probable the latter were proceeded against, and condemned to fine and imprisonment, for having omitted to procure from the University authority for the sale of their Bible; such permission being then indispensable for the sale of every kind of book.

In the meantime the town of Mayence had been taken by assault and given up to pillage (October 27, 1462). This event, in consequence of which the printing-office of Fust and Schœffer remained shut up for two years, resulted in the dissemination over the whole of Europe of printers and the art of printing. Cologne, Hamburg, and Strasbourg appear to have been the first towns in which the emigrants established themselves.

When these printers left Mayence, and carried their art elsewhere, it had never produced any book of classic literature; but it had proved by important publications, such as the Bible and the “Catholicon,” that it could create entire libraries, and thus propagate, _ad infinitum_, the masterpieces of human genius. It was reserved for the printing-office of Fust and Schœffer to set the example in that direction, and of printing the first classical work. In 1465, Cicero’s treatise “De Officiis,” issued from the press of these two faithful associates, and marked, as we may say, the commencement of the printing of books for libraries, and with so great success that in the following year a new edition of the treatise was published, in quarto.

At this period, Fust himself came to Paris, where he established a dépôt of printed books, but left the management of the concern to one of his own fellow-countrymen. This person dying soon afterwards, the books found in his house, being the property of a foreigner, were sold by right of forfeiture, for the king’s benefit. But upon the petition of Peter Schœffer, backed up by the Elector of Mayence, the King, Louis XI., granted to the petitioners a sum of 2,425 golden dollars, “in consideration of the trouble and labour which the said petitioners had taken for the said art and trade of printing, and of the benefit and utility which resulted and may result from this art to the whole world, as well by increasing knowledge as in other ways.” This memorable decree of the King of France bears date April 21, 1475.

We must mention, however, that about the year 1462, Louis XI., inquisitive and uneasy at what he had heard of the invention of Gutenberg, sent to Mayence Nicholas Jenson, a clever engraver, attached to the mint at Tours, “to obtain secret information of the cutting of the points and type, by means of which the rarest manuscripts could be multiplied, and to carry off surreptitiously the invention and introduce it into France.” Nicholas Jenson, after having succeeded in his mission, did not return to France (it was never known why), but went to Venice and established himself there as a printer. It would seem, however, that Louis XI., not discouraged at the ill success of his attempt, despatched, it is said, another envoy, less enterprising but more conscientious than the first, to discover the secrets of printing. In 1469, three German printers, Ulric Gering, Martin Crantz, and Michael Friburger, began to print in Paris, in a room of the Sorbonne, of which their fellow-countryman, John Heylin, named De la Pierre, was then the prior; in the following year they dedicated to the king, “their protector,” one of their editions, revised by the learned William Fichet; and in the space of four years they published about fifteen works, quartos and folios, the majority being printed for the first time. Then, when they were forced to leave the Sorbonne, because John de la Pierre, who had returned to Germany, had no longer authority over the institution, they set up in the Rue Saint-Jacques a new printing establishment, whose sign-board was the “Soleil d’Or,” from which, during the next five years, were issued twelve other important works.

The Sorbonne then, like the University, was the cradle and the foster-mother in Paris of the art of printing, which soon attained to a nourishing condition, and produced, during the last twenty years of the fourteenth[61] century, numerous fine books of history, poetry, literature, and devotion, under the direction of the able and learned Pierre Caron, Pasquier Bonhomme, Anthony Vérard, Simon Vostre (Fig. 398), &c.

After the capture of Mayence, two workmen, who had been dismissed from the establishment of Fust and Schœffer, Conrad Sweynheim and Arnold Pannartz, carried beyond the Alps the secret that had been confided to them under the guarantee of an oath. They remained for a time in the Convent of Subiaco, near Rome, in which were some German monks, and there they organised a printing apparatus, and printed many fine editions of Lactantius, Cicero, St. Augustine, &c. They were soon invited to Rome, and met with an asylum in the house of the illustrious family of Massimi; but they found an opponent in the city in one of their own workmen from the convent, who had come to Rome and engaged himself as printer to the cardinal John of Torquemada. Henceforward sprang up between the two printing establishments a rivalry which showed itself in unparalleled zeal and activity on both sides. In ten years the greater number of the writings of the ancient Latin authors, which had been preserved in manuscripts more or less rare, passed through the press. In 1476 there were in Rome more than twenty printers, who employed about a hundred presses, and whose great object was to surpass each other in the rapidity with which they produced their publications; so that the day soon arrived when the most precious manuscripts retained any value only because they contained what had not been already made public by printing. Those of which printed editions already existed were so universally disregarded, that we must refer to this period the destruction of a large number. They were used, when written on parchment, for binding the new books; and to this circumstance may be attributed the loss of certain celebrated works which printing in nowise tended to preserve from the knife of the binder.

While printing was displaying such prodigious activity in Rome, it was

[Illustration: Fig. 398.--Fac-simile of a page of a “