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Title: The Invention of Printing.

Author: Theodore Low De Vinne

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Most recently updated: October 22, 2024

Language: English

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The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Invention of Printing., by Theodore
Low De Vinne

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THORWALDSEN’S STATUE OF JOHN ♠
GUTENBERG.

T HE

INVENTION OF
PRINTING.

DE S CRI P T I VE OF
E ARLY P RI NT S AND P L AY­I NG CARDS , T HE
BL OCK- BOOKS OF T HE F I F ­T E E NT H CE N­‐
T URY, T HE L E ­G E ND OF L OUR­E NS JANS ­Z OON
COS ­T E R, OF HAAR­L E M, AND T HE WORK OF
JOHN GU­T E N­B E RG AND HI S AS ­S OC­I AT E S .

WI T H FAC- S I MI L E S OF E ARLY T YP E S AND WOOD- CUT S .
BY

THEO. L. DE VINNE.

NE W- YORK:
F RANCI S HART & CO. 1 2 & 1 4 COL L E GE P L ACE .
1876.

E NT E RE D, ACCORDI NG TO ACT OF CON­G RE S S , I N T HE YE AR 18 7 6,
BY

T HEODORE L. D E V INNE ,

I N T HE OF ­F I CE OF T HE L I ­B RAR­I AN OF CON­G RE S S AT WAS H­I NG­‐
TON.

TO

DAVID WOLFE BRUCE,

I N ACKNOWL E DGME NT
OF I N­S T RUC­T I ON ABOUT T YP E S , NOT TO BE
HAD BY RE AD­I NG, OF AS S I S ­TANCE I N S T U­‐
DI E S , NOT TO BE F OUND I N P UB­L I C L I ­B RAR­‐
I E S , OF COM­PAN­I ON­S HI P MORE P L E A­S ANT
T HAN BOOKS ,

THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
BY HI S F RI E ND,

THEO. L. DE VINNE.

CONTENTS.

IT HE D IFFERENT M ETHODS OF P RINTING 17

IIA NTIQUE M ETHODS OF I MPRESSION AND THEIR F AILURE 29

IIIT HE K EY TO THE I NVENTION OF T YPOGRAPHY 49

IV T HE I MAGE P RINTS OF THE F IFTEENTH C ENTURY 69

V P RINTED AND S TENCILED P LAYING C ARDS 88

VI T HE C HINESE M ETHOD OF P RINTING 109

VII T HE E ARLY P RINTING OF I TALY 122

VIII T HE I NTRODUCTION OF P APER IN E UROPE 133

IX T HE B OOK-MAKERS OF THE M IDDLE A GES 146

X T HE P REPARATIONS FOR P RINTING 171

XI B LOCK-BOOKS OF I MAGES WITHOUT T EXT 193

XII B LOCK-BOOKS OF I MAGES WITH T EXT 230

XIII T HE D ONATUS, OR B OY’S L ATIN G RAMMAR 254

XIV T HE S PECULUM S ALUTIS, OR M IRROR OF S ALVATION 264

XV T HE W ORKS AND W ORKMANSHIP OF AN U NKNOWN 282
P RINTER
XVI T HE P ERIOD IN WHICH THE S PECULUM WAS P RINTED 308

XVII T HE L EGEND OF L OURENS J ANSZOON C OSTER 326

XVIII T HE G ROWTH OF THE L EGEND 347

XIX T HE D OWNFALL OF THE L EGEND 360

XX J OHN G UTENBERG AT S TRASBURG 375

XXI G UTENBERG AND HIS E ARLIER W ORK AT M ENTZ 403

XXII T HE L ATER W ORK OF G UTENBERG 431

XXIII T HE W ORK OF P ETER S CHŒFFER AND J OHN F UST 449

XXIV A LLEGED I NVENTORS OF P RINTING 480

XXV T HE S PREAD OF P RINTING 492

XXVI T HE T OOLS AND U SAGES OF THE F IRST P RINTERS 514

A UTHORITIES C ONSULTED 543

I NDEX 547

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Statue of John Gutenberg ♦
Surface Exposed to Impression by Copper-plate
method ♦
Surface Inked and Exposed to Impression by Typo­‐
graph­ic method ♦
Surface Exposed to Impression by Lith­o­graph­ic
method ♦
Face of a large Type, showing how the Letter is
placed on the body ♦
Side view of Canon body ♦
Small Pica, Agate and Diamond body ♦
View of body inclined to show the face ♦
Stamped Brick from Babylon ♦
Fac-simile of Impression on brick ♦
Egyptian Stamp for impressing bricks ♦
Assyrian Cylinder ♦
Old Roman Stamps ♦
Roman Stamps ♦
Roman Scrinium and rolls of papyrus ♦
Types of Irregular Body ♦
Punch ♦
Matrix ♦
Illustrations of Type-bodies ♦
Type-Mould, without matrix ♦
One-half of the Mould ♦

The other half of the Mould ♦
Type-casting as practised in 1683 ♦
Type-casting as practised in 1564 ♦
Print of St. Christopher ♦
Print of the Annunciation ♦
Print of St. Bridget ♦
Flemish Indulgence Print ♦
Brussels Print ♦
Berlin Print ♦
Playing Card of the fifteenth century ♦
Print Colorer ♦
Engraver on Wood ♦
Chinese Playing Cards ♦
Early French Playing Cards ♦
French and German Playing Cards of the fif­teenth
and six­teenth cen­tu­ries ♦
Fac-simile of part of a Chi­nese Book ♦
Chinese Types made in London ♦
Mark of Jacobus Arnoldus, 1345 ♦
Mark of Johannes Meynersen, 1435 ♦
Mark of Adam de Walsokne, 1349 ♦
Mark of Edmund Pepyr, 1483 ♦
Mark of an unknown person ♦
Japanese Method of Making Paper ♦
Paper-Mill of the sixteenth century ♦
Scriptorium of the middle ages ♦
Penmanship of the ninth century ♦
Manuscript of the fifteenth century ♦
Medieval Bookbinding ♦
Medieval Illuminator ♦
Sumptuously Bound Book ♦

Medieval Book with covers of oak ♦
Book Cover in Ivory, Byzantine style ♦
Seal of the University of Paris ♦
English Horn-Book ♦
English Clog ♦
Holbein’s Dance of Death ♦
Dance of Death, as shown in the Nurem­berg Chron­i­‐
cle ♦
Last page of the Bible of the Poor ♦
First page of the Bible of the Poor, as made by Wal­‐
ther and Hur­ning ♦
First page of the Apocalypse ♦
First page of the Canticles ♦
Story of the Blessed Virgin ♦
Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer ♦
Illustration from the Book of Kings ♦
Letter K of Grotesque Alphabet ♦
Page from the Apostles’ Creed ♦
Page from the Eight Rogueries ♦
Page from the Antichrist ♦
Page from the Ars Memorandi ♦
Page from the Ars Moriendi ♦
Chiromancy of Doctor Hartlieb ♦
Calendar of John of Gamundia ♦
Page from the Wonders of Rome ♦
Pomerium Spirituale ♦
Temptations of the Devil ♦
Life of St. Meinrat ♦
Heidelberg Dance of Death ♦
German Donatus, from a block in the Na­tion­al Li­bra­‐
ry at Paris ♦

Fragment of an early Donatus ♦
Early Dutch Horarium ♦
Imprint of Conrad Dinckmut ♦
First page of Speculum Salutis ♦
Last page of Speculum Salutis ♦
Types of Speculum Salutis ♦
Types in third edition of Speculum ♦
Types of Fables of Lorenzo Valla ♦
Types of Peculiarities of Criminal Law ♦
Types of Epitaphs of Pope Pius II ♦
The Enschedé Abecedarium ♦
Experimental Letters drawn on wood ♦
Types from Experimental Letters ♦
Frisket, Tympan and Bed of an early Euro­pean Print­‐
ing Press ♦
Paper-marks: seven illustrations ♦
Types of Jacob Bellaert ♦
Types of John Brito ♦
Map of the Netherlands ♦
Scriverius’ Portrait of Coster ♦
Statue of Coster in Doctors’ Garden ♦
Medals in honor of Coster ♦
Statue of Coster on the monument ♦
Autograph of Laurens Janszoon ♦
House of Coster ♦
Portrait of Laurens Janszoon Coster ♦
Spurious Portrait by Van den Berg ♦
Portrait attributed to Van Oudewater ♦
The Laurens Janszoon of Meerman ♦
Medieval Press ♦
Type-mould of Claude Garamond ♦

Types of the Donatus at­tri­but­ed to Gu­ten­berg at
Stras­burg ♦
Types of Donatus of 1451 ♦
De la Borde’s Illustration of Types ♦
Holbein’s Satire on the Indulgences ♦
Letter of Indulgence dated 1454 ♦
Types of Bible of 36 Lines ♦
Abbreviations of Bible of 36 Lines ♦
Portrait of John Fust ♦
Types of Bible of 42 Lines ♦
Portrait of John Gutenberg ♦
Types of Letter of Indulgence of 1461 ♦
Types of Catholicon of 1460 ♦
Types of Celebration of the Mass ♦
Types of Mirror of the Clergy ♦
Colophon written by Peter Schœffer ♦
Types of the Psalter of 1457 ♦
Colophon of the Psalter of 1457 ♦
Types of the Rationale Durandi ♦
Types of the Bible of 1462 ♦
Trade-mark of Fust and Schœffer ♦
Types of Constitutions of Clement V ♦
Portrait of Peter Schœffer ♦
Types of the Grammar of 1468 ♦
Illustration from the Book of Fables ♦
Arms of the Typothetæ ♦
Part of Koburger’s Map of Europe ♦
The Birth of Eve, Zainer’s ♦
Statue of Gutenberg at Strasburg ♦
Type of the fifteenth century ♦
Printing Office of sixteenth century ♦

Hand Press of Jodocus Badius ♦
Inking Balls of sixteenth century ♦
Large wood-cut of fifteenth century ♦
The Fall of Lucifer, Zainer’s ♦
A Print of 1475 ♦

PREFACE.

T H E Invention of Printing has always been re­cog­nized by ed­‐
u­cat­ed men as a sub­ject of im­por­tance: there is no mechanical
art, nor are there any of the fine arts, about whose early history
so many books have been written. The subject is as mysterious
as it is inviting. There is an unusual degree of obscurity about
the origin of the first printed books and the lives and works of
the early printers. There are records and traditions which
cannot be reconciled of at least three distinct inventions of
printing. Its early history is entangled with a controversy about
rival inventors which has lasted for more than three centuries,
and is not yet fully determined.
In the management of this controversy, a subject intrinsically
attractive has been made repulsive. The history of the invention
of printing has been written to please national pride. German
authors assert the claims of Gutenberg, and discredit traditions
about Coster. Dutch authors insist on the priority of Coster, and
charge Gutenberg with stealing the invention. Partisans on
each side say that their opponents have perverted the records
and suppressed the truth. The quarrel has spread. English and
French authors, who had no national prejudices to gratify, and
who should have considered the question without passion, have
wrangled over the subject with all the bitterness of Germans or
Hollanders. In this, as in other quarrels, there are amusing
features, but to the general reader the controversy seems
unfortunate and is certainly wearisome.

It is a greater misfortune that all the early chronicles of
printing were written in a dead language. Wolf’s col­lec­tion p010
of Typographic Monuments, which includes near­ly ev­ery pa­per
of val­ue writ­ten before 1740, is in Latin; the valuable books of
Meerman, Maittaire, and Schoepflin are also in Latin. To the
general reader these are sealed books: to the student, who
seeks exact knowledge of the methods of the first printers, they
are tiresome books. Written for the information of librarians
rather than of printers, it is but proper that these books should
devote the largest space to a review of the controversy or to a
description of early editions; but it is strange that they should
so imperfectly describe the construction and appearance of
early types and the usages of the early printers. The mechanical
features of typography were, apparently, neglected as of little
importance, and beneath the dignity of history.
A failure to present accurate illustrations of early printing is
not the fault of modern authorities. Many of them are full of
fac-similes bearing the marks of minute and conscientious care;
but they are in foreign languages, and are seldom found in our
largest American libraries. There are, it is true, a few books in
English on early printing which have accurate fac-similes; but
high prices and limited editions put them out of the reach of the
ordinary book-buyer. They were written by and for librarians
only.
Valuable as all these books are, they disappoint the printer.
Some of them, though presenting fac-similes in profusion, are
not accompanied with proper explanations in the text: others
are devoted to one branch only of early printing, such as block-
books, or the printed work of one nation only. Two of them are
untrustworthy as authorities. Neither from one book, nor from
all the books, can a printer get a clear description of the
mechanical development of typography. This incompleteness
was frankly acknowledged by Dr. Dibdin, when he said that

there was no work in the English language which deserved to
be considered as a complete general history of printing. This
was an old complaint. Nearly a hundred years before, Prosper
Marchand had said that the history of printing, voluminous as
it then seemed, was but history in fragments. p011
The first attempt to supply this great deficiency was made by
August Bernard, in the disquisition published at Paris, in the
year 1853, under the title, De l’origine et des debuts de
l’imprimerie en Europe. His was the first book in which the
printed work attributed to Coster and Gutenberg was critically
examined from a typographic point of view. To readers who
were not content with the vague descriptions of popular books
of typography, the explanations of Bernard were of peculiar
value. I had reason to think that a translation of the history of
this eminent printer would be received by American printers
with some measure of the favor which the original had met with
in Europe. Impressed with this belief I began the work.
I found it necessary to consult many of Bernard’s authorities.
My admiration of the superior method and forcible style of
Bernard, an admiration still unabated, was increased by the
reading of the new books; but the esteem in which I hold his
valuable work does not prevent the regret that, in his entire
neglect of the block-books, he should have overlooked the most
significant feature of early printing. The fac-similes of early
prints, subsequently shown in The Infancy of Book Printing of
Weigel and in The Typographic Monuments of Holtrop,
convinced me that the earliest practice of typography had its
beginning in a still earlier practice of printing from blocks, and
that a description of block-books should precede a description
of the invention of types.
Since these books were written, all the old theories about the
origin of typography have been examined with increased
interest, and discussed with superior critical ability, by many

eminent European scholars. Discoveries of great importance
have been made; old facts have been set forth in new lights;
traditions accepted as truthful history for three hundred years
have been demolished. Of the many able men who have been
engaged in this task of separating truth from fiction, no one has
done more efficient service than Dr. A. Van der Linde of The
Hague, whose papers on the traditions of typography are
masterpieces of acute and scholarly criticism. His researches
p012 and reasoning convinced me that it would be unwise to
offer a translation of any previously published book as a fair
exponent of modern knowledge about early typography. The
newly discovered facts were opposed to early teachings; there
could be no sewing of the new cloth on the old garment. I was
led away from my first purpose of translation, and, almost
unconsciously, began to collect the materials for the present
volume.
Until recently, the invention of printing has been regarded as
a subject belonging almost entirely to bibliographers. The
opinions of type-founders and printers who had examined old
books have been set aside as of no value, whenever they were
opposed to favorite theories or legends. This partial treatment
of the subject is no longer approved: a new school of criticism
invites experts to examine the books, and pays respect to their
conclusions. It claims that the internal evidences of old books
are of higher authority than legends, and that these evidences
are conclusive, not to be ignored nor accommodated to the
statements of the early chroniclers. European critics do not
hesitate to say that the confusing and contradictory
descriptions of the origin of printing are largely due to the
improper deference heretofore paid to the statements of men
who tried to describe processes which they did not understand.
They say, also, that too little attention has been paid to the
types and mechanics of early printing. Criticisms of this

character led me to indulge the hope that I might find gleanings
of value in the old field, and that it would be practicable to
present them, with the newly discovered facts, in a form which
would be acceptable to the printer and the general reader. In
this belief, and for this purpose, this book was written.
I would not have begun this work, if I had not felt assured
that a thorough revision of the subject was needed. The books
and papers on typography which are most popular, and are still
accepted as authoritative by the ordinary reader, repeat legends
which have recently been proved untrue; they narrate, as
established facts of history, methods of printing which are not
only incorrect but impossible. It is time that the results of p013
the more recent researches should be published in the English
language. But I offer them only as the compiler of accredited
facts: I have no original discoveries to announce, no
speculative theories to uphold. Nor shall I invade the proper
field of librarians and bibliographers. I propose to describe old
types, prints and books as they are seen by a printer, and with
reference to the needs of printers and the general reader,
avoiding, as far as I can, all controversies about matters which
are of interest to book-collectors only. The historical part of the
record will be devoted chiefly to the printed work of the first
half of the fifteenth century. It will begin with descriptions of
the earliest forms of printing, as shown in image prints, playing
cards and block-books; it will end with the establishment of
typography in Germany.
Believing that a verbal description of old books and prints,
without pictorial illustrations, would be unsatisfactory, I have
provided many fac-similes of early printing. No part of this
work will more fully repay examination than its illustrations,
which have been carefully selected from approved authorities,
or from originals. Reproduced by the new process of photo-
engraving, they are accurate copies of the originals, even when

of reduced size. As they are printed with the descriptive text by
the same method of typographic presswork, it is believed that
they will more clearly illustrate the subject than lithographed
fac-similes on straggling leaves.
In trying to make plain whatever may be obscure about the
mechanics of printing, I have thought proper to begin the
explanation with a description of its different methods. An
introduction of this nature is not an unwarrantable digression.
It is important that the reader should have an understanding of
the radical differences between typography and xylography on
the one side, and lithographic and copper-plate printing on the
other, as well as some knowledge of the construction and uses
of the more common tools of type-founders.
I do not propose to give any extended quotations in foreign
languages. Wherever an approved translation in English has
p014 been found, it has been substituted for the original text;
where translations have not been approved, they have been
made anew. Writing for the general reader, I have assumed that
he would prefer, as I do, in every book to be read and not
studied, a version in English rather than the original text.
Believing that the frequent citation of authorities, especially in
instances where the facts are undisputed, or where the books
are inaccessible, is an annoyance, I have refrained from the
presentation of foot-notes which refer to books only. I have, in a
few cases, deviated from this course where the matters stated
were of a character which seemed to require the specification
of authority.
One of the greatest impediments I encountered when about to
begin the compilation of this work was the difficulty of access
to books of authority. I do not mention this in disparagement of
the management of our public libraries, for I know that old
books are liable to injury in the hands of the merely curious,
and that librarians have little encouragement to collect scarce

books on typography. To prove that there is small inquiry for
treatises of this character, it is enough to say that I have had to
cut open the leaves of valuable books after their rest for many
years on the shelves of one of the largest libraries of this city.
But if these books were ever so abundant, the proper
restrictions placed on their use were a hindrance to one whose
chief opportunity for consulting them is at night.
Here I am pleased to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr.
David Wolfe Bruce. He has not only accompanied and aided me
in repeated examinations of his very valuable collection of
fifteenth century books, but has lent me all the books I desired,
and has freely given me unlimited time for their study. This
collection—replete with all the books of authority I needed,
with specimens of types, wood-cuts, and curiosities of type-
founding, which illustrate the growth of printing from its
infancy—was more admirably adapted to my needs than that of
any library on this Continent. Deprived of Mr. Bruce’s generous
assistance, my work would have been greatly restricted in its
scope, and shorn of its best features of illustration. p015
I began this work intending to describe only the mechanical
development of early printing, but I could not keep the matter
strictly within this limit. Hedged in this narrow space, the story
would be but half told. The true origin of typography is not in
types, nor in block-books nor image prints. These were
consequences, not causes. The condition of society at the close
of the middle ages; the growth of commerce and manufactures;
the enlarged sense of personal liberty; the brawls of
ecclesiastics in high station, and their unworthy behavior; the
revolt of the people against the authority of church and state;
the neglect of duty by the self-elected teachers of the people in
their monopoly of books and knowledge; the barrenness of the
education then given in the schools; the eagerness of all people
for the mental diversion offered in the new game of playing

cards; the unsatisfied religious appetite which hungered for
image prints and devotional books; the facilities for self-
education afforded by the introduction of paper,—these were
among the influences which produced the invention of printing.
They are causes which cannot be overlooked. My inability to
describe them with the fullness which they deserve would not
justify their total neglect. I have devoted more space to them
than is customary in treatises on early printing, but I have to
admit, with regret, that they have been too curtly treated. I have
done but little more than record a few of the more noticeable
facts—enough, perhaps, to show that the state of education and
society, in its relation to the invention of printing, deserves a
more extended description than it has hitherto received. If I can
succeed in awakening the attention of printers, and those who
look on a knowledge of printing as a proper accomplishment of
the scholar, to the nature and extent of these influences, to the
curiosities of literature hidden in apparently dry books of
bibliography, and to the value of the lesson of patient industry
and fixed purpose taught by the life of John Gutenberg, the
object of this book will have been accomplished.

I

Impression is used in many Arts . . . Printing implies the use of Ink and Paper . . .
Four Methods of Printing . . . Steel-plate or Copper-plate, the artistic method . . .
Lithography, the scientific method . . . Typography, the useful method . . .
Xylography, the primitive method . . . Illustrations of Copper-plate and
Lithographic Printing Surfaces . . . Process of Copper-plate Printing . . . Its Merits
and its Defects . . . Process of Lithographic Printing . . . Its Advantages and
Limitations . . . Theory of Typography, with Illustrations of the Face and Body of
Types . . . Superiority of Movable Types over Engraved Letters . . . Stereotype . . .
Superiority of the Typographic Method in its Presses and its Process of Inking . . .
Xylography . . . Period when each Method was Introduced . . . A Meaning in their
almost Simultaneous Introduction.

T H E S E definitions of printing are based on its derivation
from the Latin, premo , to press, and on the supposition that its
most characteristic feature is impression. From a technical point
of view, the definitions are incomplete; for printing and
typography are made synonymous, while many leading, but
totally different, methods of impressing letters, characters and
figures, are not even noticed. Impression is employed in the
manufacture of calico, paper-hangings, oilcloth, figured
crockery, and in many other arts which have no connection with

each other. Under right conditions, the p018 action or the
impress of light makes a photograph. Under different
conditions, the pressure of the breath makes hollow glassware.
Moulding, coining, stamping and embossing are other methods
of impression; but the men who practise these methods are not
known as printers. The word printing has acquired a
conventional meaning not entirely warranted by its derivation.
It means much more than impression. It is commonly
understood as a process in which paper and ink are employed in
conjunction with impression.
Printing and typography are not strictly synonymous, as may
be inferred from the definitions. Typography, although the most
useful, is not the only form of printing. Printing on paper with
ink is done by four methods. Each method is, practically, a
separate art, distinct from its rivals in its theory, its process, and
its application. These methods are:
Steel-plate or Copper-plate printing , in which the subject is
printed from an etching or engraving below the surface of a
plate of steel or of copper.
Lithography , in which the subject is printed from a
transferred engraving on the surface of a prepared stone.
Typography , in which the subject is printed from a
combination of movable metal types cast in high relief.
Xylography , in which the subject is printed from a design
engraved on a block of wood in high relief.
The distinct nature of the substances in use for printing
surfaces by the four methods should be enough to teach us that
the methods are entirely different. But the manner in which the
letters, designs or figures of each method are put on the
respective printing surfaces will show the differences more
noticeably. In typographic and xylographic work, the matter to
be printed is cast or cut in high relief, or above the surface; in
lithographic work, it is put on the smooth surface of the stone,

in relief so slight that it is almost level with the surface; in steel
and copper-plate, it is cut below the surface which receives the
impression. The illustration on the next page shows, but in an
exaggerated form, the appearance of a p019 single line, cut
across, or in a vertical direction, when it has been prepared for
printing by each of the different methods. It will be seen that
the line prepared for printing by the typographic or xylographic
method can be inked with facility, and that, when compared
with a similar line in lithographic or copper-plate work, it
presents but a small surface and a slighter resistance to
impression.

Typography or Lithography. Copper-plate or Steel- ♠
Xylography. C. Transferred surface plate.
A. Elevated line; the line; the only part of the E. The line printed,
only part of a typographic surface which receives which is engraved below
or of a xylographic ink and repels moisture. the surface of the plate,
surface which receives D. The surface of the and is filled with ink.
the ink and impression. stone, that imbibes F. The smooth face of
B. The shoulder of the moisture and repels the plate, which makes
type, or the field of the greasy ink; it receives the no mark on the paper, but
block; it receives neither full force of impression which receives the full
ink nor impression. in every part. force of impression.

The process of copper-plate printing begins with heating the
plate, and rolling it with ink, until the incised lines have been
filled. The face of the plate is then wiped clean, care being
taken that the ink in the incised lines is not removed. A
moistened sheet of paper is then laid on the plate, and an
impression is taken by forcing it under the cylinder of a rolling
press. Under this pressure, the paper is forced in the sunken
lines filled with ink, and the ink sticks to the paper.
Copper-plate printing is, in all points, the reverse of
typographic printing. The engraved lines, cut below the surface,
are filled with ink in a compact body, and not in a thin film,

liable to spread under pressure, as it may on a type or on a
wood-cut; the ink from a copper-plate is pressed in such a way
that it re-appears on the paper in a low relief—it is not
squeezed on and flatted out, but stands up with sharper line and
shows a greater depth of color. The slenderness of the incised
lines, the fineness and hardness of the metal, and the peculiar
method by which the ink is laid on the plate and fixed to the
paper, give to prints from engravings on steel or p020 on copper
a sharpness of line, a brilliancy of color, a delicacy of tone, and
a receding in perspective, which have always won for this
branch of printing the preference of artists. Yet it is a slow and
expensive process. A steel-plate engraver may be engaged for
many months upon a large plate, from which but forty perfect
impressions can be taken in a day. On ordinary work on a large
plate, three hundred impressions per day is the average
performance of a copper-plate press.
Steel and copper-plate printing is largely used for bank-notes,
portraits, fine book illustrations, revenue and postage stamps,
and sometimes for commercial formularies, but it is in every
way unfitted for the printing of books. It has not been much
improved since its invention. Steel plates may be duplicated by
means of electrotyping, or by the process of transfer to soft
steel, but these duplicates cannot be made so cheaply as
typographic stereotype plates, nor so promptly as transfers by
lithography. The inking and cleansing of the plate, always dirty
and disagreeable work, has hitherto been done only by hand.
All the manipulations of copper-plate work are slow and
difficult: they present many obstacles to the use of labor-saving
machinery.
In lithography the design to be printed, which may be
engraved on stone or copper, or written with pen on paper, is
transferred by a greasy ink upon the smooth surface of a stone
of peculiar fineness and firmness. This stone, which is found in

its best state only in Bavaria, where the art was invented, is a
variety of slate, which faithfully responds in printing to the
slightest touch of a graver or a crayon, and permits the use of
fine shades and tints which cannot be produced on wood or on
copper. The transferred lines of the design cling to and dry upon
the surface of the stone, which is then subjected to the action of
a weak acid, which hardens the ink in the transferred lines,
while it slightly etches and lowers the surface where it is
unprotected. The process of printing begins by dampening the
stone with a moist sponge, the water in which is absorbed by
the p022 unprotected face of the stone, while it is repelled by the
hard greasy matter in the transferred lines. The inking roller is
then applied to the stone with a contrary result; the moistened
surface repels the greasy ink, but the transferred lines attract
and retain it. When an impression on paper is taken, the only
part of the paper which receives ink is that part which touches
the transferred lines. The theory of lithography is based upon
the repulsion between grease and water. Lithographic printing
is chemical printing.

Surface Exposed to Impression by the Copper-plate Method.
The entire surface of the plate is covered with ink until the white lines are filled.
The surface around the figures is wiped clean before the impression is taken.

Surface Inked and Exposed to Impression by the Typographic Method.

Surface Exposed to Impression by the Lithographic Method. ♠
This surface is rolled twice: once with water, which is absorbed only by the
surface here shown in dull black tint; once with ink, which is retained only on the
figures.

Lithography is the most scientific and the most flexible of all
methods of printing. It can imitate fairly, and it often
reproduces with accuracy, a line engraving on steel, a drawing

in crayon, the manuscript of a penman, or the painting in oil of
an artist. By the aid of photography, it can repeat, in an
enlarged or diminished size, any kind of printed work. It has
many advantages over copper-plate and xylography. For some
kinds of work, like autograph letters and rude diagrams,
engraving is unnecessary; the design may be written with oily
ink on paper, and can then be transferred direct from the written
copy to a stone without the aid of a graver. The transferring
process is another peculiarity of this art which allows the
lithographer to duplicate small designs with greater facility and
economy than a similar duplication could be effected by the
stereotyper of types. These advantages are counterbalanced by
one great defect: lithography is not a quick method of printing.
The usual performance of the lithographic hand press when
applied to ordinary work, is about four hundred impressions per
day; on the steam press, the performance is about five thousand
impressions per day.
The arts of lithography and copper-plate are useful and
beautiful methods of printing, but they do not make books and
newspapers.1 The necessity which compels them to p023 make a
new engraving for every new subject restricts them almost
exclusively to the field of art and ornament. If no other method
of printing were known, encyclopedias and newspapers would
be impossibilities. “The art preservative of all arts” is not the
art of lithography nor of copper-plate.
This distinction rightfully belongs to Typography only. The
theory upon which this method is based is that of the
independence of each character, and of the mutual dependence
of all its characters. Every character is a separate and movable
type, so made that it can be arranged with others in an endless
variety of combinations. The types used for this page are used
for other pages in this book; they can be re-arranged for use in
the printing of many other books or pamphlets; they cease to

serve only when they are worn out. All other methods of
printing require, at the outset, the engraving on one piece of
wood or metal of all the letters or parts of a design, which,
when once combined, cannot be separated; they can be applied
only to the object for which they were first made.
Typography is most successful when it is applied to the
letters of the alphabet. It fails totally when applied to maps, or
to any kind of printed work requiring irregularly varying lines.
It is only partially successful in the representation of combined
ornaments and the characters of music. Its true field is in the
representation of words and thoughts, and here it is supreme.
There is no other method of printing which can do this work so
perfectly.
Typography has a great advantage over other branches of
printing in the cheapness of its materials. Type-metal is cheaper
by weight than copper or steel, or the finer quality of
lithographic stone: by measurement, it is cheaper than the box-
wood used by engravers. Types are cheaper than engraved
letters. A pound of the types by which this page is printed
contains about 320 pieces of metal, the cost of which is but 48
cents. Types are made of many forms or faces, but they are
always of uniform height, and are always p024 truly square as to
body, so that they can be fitted to each other with precision, and
can be interchanged with facility.
The expense of combining types in words is trivial, as
compared with the cost of engraving for lithographic or for
copper-plate printing. An employing printer’s price for the
composition of a page like this would be, at the high rates of
New-York city, $1.10. The engraving of such a page, by any
method, would cost at least three times as much as the types
and their composition. If never so carefully done, the engraved
letters would not be so uniform, nor so satisfactory to the
general reader, as the types. The engraved letters would cost

more, but they could be used only for the work for which they
were made. In typographic printing, there is no such restriction
as to use, and no such loss of labor. It is only the labor of
composition which need be lost; the types remain, but little
more worn, or little less perfect, than when they were first put
in use.

Letter H, from a type of Em, or full square of Face of the letter as it
Canon body. Canon body. appears on the body.
The Face of a Large Type, showing the manner in which the Letter is placed on ♠
the Body.2

The labor of composition is not always lost. A page of
movable types can be used for a mould, from which can be
made a stereotype plate of immovable letters. Stereotyping is a
cheap process. A plate of this page of type can be had for about
one-half the cost of the composition. The stereotype plate has
all the advantages pertaining to an engraving on a lithographic
stone, and it is more durable and portable. p025
Typography has a marked advantage in the greater ease with
which printing types are inked. In the copper-plate process, the
plate must be first blackened over the entire surface, and then
cleansed with even greater care, before an impression can be
taken. This labor cannot be intrusted to machinery, but must be
done by a practised workman. The inking of a lithographic
stone is as difficult: the stone must be moistened before the
inking roller can be applied. This double operation of inking
and cleansing, or of inking and moistening, is required for
every impression. The inking of types is done by a much
simpler method; one passage, to and fro, of a gang of rollers

over the surface is sufficient to coat them with ink. The types
need no previous nor after application.

Side view of Small-pica Agate Diamond View of body inclined
Canon body. body. body. body. to show the face.
Bodies of Types. ♠

The impression by which typographic surfaces are printed is
comparatively slight. The sunken lines of a copper plate or the
transferred lines of a lithographic stone can be reproduced on
paper only by means of violent impression, which is obtained
by forcing the plate or the stone under an iron cylinder or
scraper. Only a part of the surface is printed, but the entire
surface must receive impression, which is, of necessity,
gradually applied. A direct vertical pressure, at the same instant,
over every part of the surface, would crush the stone or flatten
the plate. In printing types of ordinary form, the area of
impression surface is exactly the reverse of that of the
lithographic stone or the copper plate. It is only the part which
is printed that receives the ink and the p026 impression. This
printed part is the raised surface, which is rarely ever more than
one-sixth of the area occupied by the types, and is often less
than one-twelfth. The resistance to impression of types as
compared with stones or plates is, at least, in the proportion of
one to six.
As relief plates or types are more quickly coated with ink,
and need less impression than lithographic stones or copper
plates, the typographic process is, consequently, better fitted to
receive the help of labor-saving machinery. The daily

performance of the typographic hand press on plain work has
been, almost from its earliest employment, about fifteen
hundred impressions, which is about four times greater than
that of the hand lithographic press. By the use of steam and of
improved machinery, this inequality is put almost beyond
comparison. The typographic single-cylinder type-printing
machine can print fifteen hundred impressions in an hour, and
the new newspaper perfecting press can print fifteen thousand
perfect sheets in an hour.
The feature which gives to typography its precedence in
usefulness over all other branches of the graphic arts is not so
much its superior adaptation to impression as its superior
facility for combining letters. Its merit is in the mobility of its
types and their construction for combination. Printing is
Typography. The printing which disseminates knowledge is not
the art that makes prints or pictures; it is, as Bernard has
defined it, “the art that makes books.” The definition is not
scientifically exact, but it gives a clear idea of the great breadth
of the art. In its perfect adaptation to this great object, the broad
generalization of the definition in the dictionaries may be
justified. The method of printing which is most useful may
rightfully claim the generic name.
Xylography is the scientific word for the art of making
engravings on a single block of wood, in high relief, for use on
the typographic printing press. A xylographic block may be an
engraving of letters only, of pictures only, or of both letters and
pictures, but in all cases the engraving is fixed on p027 the
block. The fixedness of the design on the block is the great
feature which separates xylography3 from typography. The
printing surfaces of the two methods are alike. Types and
xylographic engravings are printed together, by the same
process, and on the same press.

Printing with ink, not as an experiment, but as a practical
business, is comparatively a modern art. Lithography, the most
recent method, was discovered by Alois Senefelder, an actor of
Munich, in 1798. Unlike other methods of printing, it was, in
every detail, an entirely original invention.
The introduction of copper-plate printing is attributed to
Maso Finiguerra, a goldsmith of Florence, who is supposed to
have made his first print about the year 1452. It cannot be
proved that Finiguerra was the inventor, for prints by this
method were made in Germany as early as 1446. [anc27]
The period of the invention of typography may be placed
between the years 1438 and 1450. There have been many
claimants for the honor of the invention. Each of the following
fifteen cities or towns—Augsburg, Basle, Bologna, Dordrecht,
Feltre, Florence, Haarlem, Lubeck, Mentz, Nuremberg, Rome,
Russemburg, Strasburg, Schelestadt and Venice—has been
specified by as many different authors as the true birthplace of
typography. The names of the alleged inventors are, Castaldi,
Coster, Fust, Gensfleisch, Gresmund, Gutenberg, Hahn, Mentel,
Jenson, Regiomontanus, Schœffer, Pannartz and Sweinheym,
and Louis de Vaelbaeske. The evidences in favor of each
claimant have been fully examined, and the more foolish
pretensions have been so completely suppressed that it is
unnecessary to review them. The limits of the controversy have
been greatly contracted: but four of the alleged inventors of
types, Castaldi, Coster, Gutenberg and Schœffer, have living
defenders. The legend of an invention of types p028 by Castaldi,
of Feltre, has never been accepted beyond Italy, and barely
deserves respectful consideration. The evidences in favor of
Schœffer are more plausible, but they are not admitted by the
writers who have carefully investigated the documents upon
which this pretension is based. The real controversy is between
Lourens Coster of Haarlem and John Gutenberg of Mentz.

There is no record, nor even any tradition, concerning an
invention of xylography. It is admitted by all authorities, that
xylographic prints were made during the first quarter of the
fifteenth century, and that xylographic books were in use before
typography was introduced.
Three of the four methods of printing here named were
invented or developed within a period of fifty years. If the
statements of some historians could be accepted, this period
should be contracted to thirty years. There is no disagreement,
however, as to the order of their introduction. Xylography, the
rudest method, was the first in use; typography, a more useful
method, soon followed; copper-plate printing, the artistic
method, was the proper culmination. The order of invention
was that of progressive development from an imperfect to a
perfect method.
The introduction of three distinct methods of printing, by
different persons and in different places, but during the same
period, shows that a general need of books or of printed matter
had given a strong impulse to the inventive spirit of the
fifteenth century. It may also be inferred that the inventors of
printing had been benefited, in some way, by recent
improvements or developments in the mechanical processes of
which printing is composed.

II

Transfer of Form by Impression one of the Oldest Arts . . . The Stamped Bricks of
Assyria and Egypt . . . Assyrian Cylinders of Clay . . . Greek Maps . . . Roman
Theories about Combinations of Letters . . . Roman Stamps . . . The Brands and
Stamps of the Middle Ages . . . English Brands . . . Stamping is not Printing . . .
Ink then used was Unsuitable for Printing . . . Printing Waited for Discovery of Ink
and Paper . . . Romans did not Need Printing . . . Printing Depends on a multitude
of Readers . . . Readers were few in the Dark Ages . . . Invention of Printing was
Not purely Mechanical . . . Printing needs many Supports . . . Telegraph . . .
Schools . . . Libraries . . . Expresses . . . Post-Offices . . . A Premature Invention
would have been Fruitless.

S O M E notice of the material and moral elements needed for
the development of typography should precede a description of
the work of the early printers. We shall form incorrect notions
about the invention of printing unless we know something
about the state of the arts of paper-making, ink-making and
engraving at the beginning of the fifteenth century. We should
also know something about the books and the book-makers of
the middle ages. Nor will it be out of place to review the
mechanical processes which have been used, almost from the
beginning, for the preservation of written language. The review
will show us what elements the inventor of typography found at

his hand ready for use; what he combined from the inventions
of others, and what he invented anew. p030
Engraving must be
regarded as the first pro­‐
cess in every method of
print­ing. The im­pres­sion
of en­graved forms on
metal and wax, for the
pur­pose of making coins
and seals, is of great an­tiq­‐
uity, having been prac­tised
more than three thou­sand
A Stamped Brick from the Ruins of Babylon.
[From Hansard.] years ago, and, by some
people, with a skill which
cannot now be sur­passed.
There are old Egyptian
seals with faces of such
minute delicacy that the
fine­ness of the work­man­‐
ship can be fully per­ceived
only by the aid of a mag­‐
nifying glass. There are
coins of Mace­don­ia which
are stamped in a relief as
bold as that of the best
pieces of modern mints. In
An Egyptian Stamp for Impressing Bricks. ♠
[From Jackson.] Baby­lonia and Assyria,
engraved forms were
printed or stamped on clay specially prepared for this purpose.
In the ruins of the ancient edifices of these primeval nations
there is scarcely a stone or a kiln-burnt brick without an inscrip­‐
tion or a stamp upon it. The inscriptions on stone appear to
have been cut with a chisel, after the usual method of stone-

cutters; but the stamps on the bricks were made from
engravings on wood, or by the separate impres­sions of some
pointed instru­ment. The preceding il­lus­tra­tion is that of a
stamped brick taken many years ago from the ruins of ancient
Babylon. When in perfect condition, it was thirteen inches
square and three inches thick. The inscription, which is in the
cuneiform or arrow-headed character, is irre­gu­larly placed on
the sur­face, but the letters or words are arranged in parallel
rows, and are obviously made to be read from top to bottom.
The characters of this inscrip­tion were not cut upon the brick,
nor were they separately im­pressed. That they were made p032
on the plastic clay by the sudden pressure of a xylographic
block, is seen by the oblique position of the square inscription
on the brick,4 in the nicety of the engraving and its uniform
depth, in the bulging up of the clay on the side, where it was
forced outward and upward by the impression. In old Egypt,
bricks were impressed by the same method of stamping, but not
to such an extent as they were in old Assyria. The cuts annexed
represent the face and back of an old Egyptian stamp
discovered in a tomb of Thebes. The stamp is five inches long,
two and one-quarter inches broad, and half an inch thick, and is
fitted to an arched handle. The characters are engraved below
the surface of the wood, so that an impression taken from the
stamp on the clay would show the engraved characters in relief.
The inscription on the stamp p033 has been translated,
Amenoph, beloved of truth . Amenoph is supposed, by some
authorities, to have been the king of Egypt at the period of the
exodus of the Israelites.

Fac-simile of the Impression on the Brick. ♠
[From Hansard.]

The characters on the Egyptian and Babylonian bricks are
much more neatly executed than would seem necessary for
inscriptions on so common a material as clay. But they are
really coarse, when compared with the inscriptions upon the

small cylinders of clay which were used by the Assyrians for
the preservation of their public documents. Layard mentions a
small six-sided Assyrian cylinder that contains sixty lines of
minute characters which could be read only by the aid of a
magnifying glass. Antiquaries are not yet perfectly agreed as to
the method by which the cylinders were made. Layard, who
says that the Babylonian bricks were stamped, thinks that the
inscriptions on the cylinders were cut on the clay. But there are
many cylinders which show the clearest indications of
impression.
It is probable that they were made by both methods. The clay
was prepared for writing as well as for stamping. Ezekiel, who
prophesied by the river Chebar in Assyria, was commanded to
take a tile, and portray upon it the city of Jerusalem. The
Chaldean priests informed Callisthenes that they kept their
astronomical observations on tiles that were subsequently
baked in the furnace. Four large piles of tablets of unburned
clay were found by Layard in the library or hall of records of
Assurbanipal. Some of the tablets are the grammars and
primers of the language; some are records of agreements to sell
property or slaves; some are filled with astronomical or
astrological predictions. On one of them was inscribed the
Assyrian version of the deluge. The cylinders contained the
memorials which were then considered as of most value, such
as the proclamations of the king, or the laws of the empire. In
the museum of the East India Company is the fragment of a
clay cylinder which contains a portion of the decrees or annals
of Nebuchadnezzar. For perpetuating records of this nature, the
cylinders were admirably adapted. p034 They were convenient
for reference, and their legibility, after so long an exposure,
shows that they were perfectly durable.
We do not know by what considerations Assyrian rulers were
governed when about to choose between engraving or writing

on clay; but it is not unreasonable to assume that the inscription
was written or cut on the clay, when one copy only of a record
was wanted; if numerous copies were wanted, a die or an
engraving on wood was manufactured, from which these copies
were moulded. No surer method of securing exact copies of an
original could have been devised among a people that did not
use ink and paper. These cylinders are examples of printing in
its most elementary form.

An Assyrian Cylinder. ♠
[From Hansard.]

The accompanying illustration, copied from Hansard’s
Typographia , represents an Assyrian cylinder which presents
the same indications of impression which have been noticed
upon the bricks. This cylinder, which is seven inches wide at
each end, was so thoroughly baked in a furnace that it is

partially vitrified. [anc34] Around its largest circumference is a
ragged and bulging line, about a quarter of an inch wide, which
seems p035 to have been made by the imperfect meeting of two
moulding stamps. If the inscription had been cut on the clay,
this defect would not appear; the vertical lines would have been
connected, and the ragged white line would have been made
smooth.
This method of printing in clay was rude and imperfect, but,
to some extent, it did the work of modern typography. Writings
were published at small expense, and records were preserved
for ages without the aid of ink or paper. The modern printer
may wonder that this skill in printing was not developed. The
engraving that was used to impress clay could have been coated
with ink and stamped on parchment. Simple as this application
of the engraving may appear, it was never made. So far from
receiving any improvement, the art of printing in clay gradually
fell into disuse. It has been neglected for more than twenty-five
centuries on the soil where it probably originated. For Layard
tells us that an Assyrian six-sided cylinder was used as a
candlestick by a reputable Turcoman family living in the village
where it was found. A hole in the centre of one of the ends
received the tallow candle. There is a practical irony in this
base application of what may have been a praise of “the great
king,” which has never been surpassed by Solomon or
Shakspeare in their reflections on the vanity of human
greatness.
Engraving was used by the ancient Greeks in a manner
which should have suggested the feasibility of printing with
ink. Some of the maps of the Athenians were engraved on
smooth metal plates, with lines cut below the surface, after the
method of copper-plate printers, from which impressions on
vellum, or even on papyrus, could have been taken. But, so far

as we know, the impressions were not taken: for every new map
there was a new engraving.
The Assyrian method of engraving stamps for impressing
clay was practised by the old Roman potters, who marked their
manufactures with the names of the owners or with the contents
of the vessel. The potters clearly understood the p036 value of
movable types. On some of their lamps of clay, the inscriptions
were made by impressing, consecutively, the type of each letter.
These types must have been movable, and, in appearance,
somewhat like the punches or the model letters of type-
founders.
There were some men in ancient Rome who had a clear
perception of the ease with which engraved letters could be
combined. Cicero, in an argument against the hypothesis of
logical results from illogical causes, has intimated that it would
be absurd to look for an intelligible sentence from a careless
mixing up of the engraved letters of the alphabet.5 The phrase
by which he describes the assembled letters, formæ literarum ,
was used by the early printers to describe types. His argument
implies, conversely, that if proper care were exercised, it would
be easy to arrange the letters in readable sentences. But the
speculation of Cicero did not go beyond the idea of
combination. It does not appear that he thought that the letters
could be used for printing.
Quintilian had speculations about engraved letters. He
recommended to teachers the use of a thin stencil plate of
wood, on which should be cut the letters that a boy might be
required to copy when learning to write. The boy who traced
the characters with his writing implement would have his hand
guided and formed by the outlines of the perforated letters. The
curt manner in which stencil plates are noticed should lead us to
think that they were then in common use. We can see that
stencils of this nature could have been used, at least as an aid,

in the mechanical manufacture of books; but it is not probable
that they were so used. p037
We have some evi­dences that the
old Ro­mans prac­tised, at least ex­per­‐
i­men­tal­ly, the art of prin­ting with
ink. The Bri­tish Museum has a
stamp with let­ters en­graved in re­lief,
that was found near Rome, and which seems to have been made
for the pur­pose of prin­ting the sig­na­ture of its owner. The stamp
is a brass plate, about two inches long and not quite one inch
wide. A brass ring is attached to the back of the plate which
may have been used as a socket for the finger, or as a support
when it was suspended from a chain or girdle. On the face of
the stamp are engraved two lines of capital letters, huddled
together in the usual style of all old Roman inscriptions, cut the
reverse way, as it would now be done for printing, and enclosed
by a border line. An impression taken from this stamp would
produce the letters in the accompanying illustration, which may
be translated, the signature of Cecilius Hermias . Of Cecilius
Hermias we know nothing. He may have been a civic official
who used this stamp to exempt himself from the trouble of
writing, or a citizen who tried to hide his inability to write.
If this stamp should be impressed in wax, the impression
would produce letters sunk below the surface of the wax in a
manner that is unlike the impressions of seals. The raised
surface on the wax would be rough where it should be flat and
smooth. This peculiarity is significant. As this rough field
unfitted it for a neat impression on any plastic surface, the
stamp should have been used for printing with ink.
The ac­com­pan­ying il­lus­tra­tion is that of a brass prin­ting
stamp in the Bri­tish Mu­seum, which is pre­served as a spec­i­men
of old Ro­man work­man­ship.6 The let­ters were cut in re­lief, in

re­verse or­der, and with a rough
count­er or field. This rough­ness
proves that it could not have been
used to impress wax. p038
An Old Roman Stamp. ♠
[From Jackson.]

Brass stamps of similar construction and of undetermined
age have been frequently found in France and Italy. All of them
are of small size, and contain names of persons only.

Roman Stamps. ♠
[From Jackson.]

The illustrations annexed, of two engraved brass stamps of
eccentric shapes, were also copied from the originals in the
British Museum. As the letters are roughly sunk in the metal,
and are not fitted for stamping in wax, it is supposed that the
stamps were made for impression with ink. They are regarded
as Roman antiquities, of undoubted authenticity, but the
meaning of the inscriptions, the special purposes for which they
were made, and the period in which they were employed, are
unknown. The difficulty connected with the proper fixing of ink

upon these stamps of brass, of which a subsequent notice will
be made, is one of many causes which prevented the
development of this experimental form of printing.
A favorite method of making impressions was that of
branding. Virgil, in the third book of the Georgics, tells us of its
application to cattle. The old laws of many European states tell
us of its application to human beings. The cruel practice was
kept up long after the invention of typography. During the reign
of Edward VI, of England (1547–1553), it was enacted that,
“whosoever, man or woman, not being lame or impotent, nor so
aged or diseased that he or she could not work, should be
convicted of loitering or idle wandering by the highwayside, or
in the streets, like a servant wanting a master, or a beggar, he or
she was to be marked with a hot p039 iron upon the breast with
the letter V [for vagabond], and adjudged to the person bringing
him or her before a justice, to be his slave for two years; and if
such adjudged slave should run away, he or she, upon being
taken and convicted, was to be marked upon the forehead, or
upon the ball of the cheek, with the letter S [for slave], and
adjudged to be the said master’s slave forever.”
With these evidences before us of long continued practice in
various methods of engraving and stamping, and of a fair
knowledge of some of the advantages of movable letters, the
question may be asked, Why did the world have to wait so long
for the invention of typography? This question is based on the
assumption, that the civilization of antiquity was capable of
making and preserving the invention which was missed through
accident or neglect. Here is a grave error. The elements of an
invention are like those of a chemical mixture. All the
constituents but one may be there, exact in quantity and quality,
but, for the lack of that one, the mixing of the whole in a new
form cannot be accomplished. Failure in one point is entire
failure.

The ancients failed in many points. They were destitute of
several materials which we regard as indispensable in the
practice of printing. They had no ink suitable for the work.
Pliny and Dioscorides have given the formulas for the writing
ink that was used by Greek and Roman scribes during the first
century. Pliny says that the ink of book-writers was made of
soot, charcoal and gum. He does not say what fluid was used to
mix these materials, but he does allude to an occasional use of
acid, to give the ink encaustic property and to make it bite in
the papyrus. Dioscorides is more specific as to the quantities.
He says that one ounce of gum should be mixed with three
ounces of soot. Another formula is, one-half pound of smoke-
black made from burned resin, one-half ounce each of copperas
and ox-glue. Dioscorides further says that the latter mixture “is
a good application in cases of gangrene, and is useful in scalds,
if a little thickened, and p040 employed as a salve.” From this
crude recipe one may form a correct opinion of the quality of
the scientific knowledge then applied to medicine and the
mechanical arts.
These mixtures, which are more like liquid shoe blacking
than writing fluid, were used, with immaterial modifications, by
the scribes of the dark ages. Useful as they may have been for
their methods of writing, they could not have been applied to
the inking of a metal surface engraved in relief. If the brass
stamps described on a previous page had been brushed over
never so carefully with these watery inks, the metal surface
would not be covered with a smooth film of color. The ink
would collect in spots and blotches. When stamped on paper or
vellum, the ink thereupon impressed would be of irregular
blackness, illegible in spots, and easily effaced. Writing ink,
thickened with gum, has but a feeble encaustic property. It will
not be absorbed, unless it is laid on in little pools, and unless
the writing surface is scratched by a pen to aid the desired

absorption. The flat impression of a smooth metal stamp could
not make a fluid or a gummy ink penetrate below the writing
surface. It was, no doubt, by reason of the inferior appearance
of impressions of this nature that the brass stamps described on
a previous page found so limited a use.
An unsuitable ink may seem but a trifling impediment to the
development of printing, but if there had been no other, this
would have been an insurmountable obstacle. The modern
printer, who sees that the chief ingredients of printing ink are
the well-known materials smoke-black and oil, may think that
an ignorance of this mixture, or an inability to discover it, is
ridiculous and inexcusable. Modern printing ink is but one of
many inventions which could be named as illustrating the real
simplicity of a long delayed improvement. Simple as it may
seem, the mixing of color with oil was a great invention which
wrought a revolution in the art of painting.
This invention, attributed by some authors to unknown
Italian painters of the fourteenth century, and by others to p041
Hubert Van Eyck of Holland, at or about the beginning of the
fifteenth century, immediately preceded the invention of types.
The early typographic printers, who could not use the ink of the
copyists, succeeded only when they mixed their black with oil.
After four centuries of experience in the use of printing ink
made with oil, and after repeated experimentation with
impracticable substitutes, it may be confidently asserted that an
invention of typography would have failed, if this use of oil had
not been understood. The invention of types had to wait for the
invention of ink.
Typography had to wait for the invention of paper, the only
material that is mechanically adapted for printing, the only
material that supplies the wants of the reader in his
requirements for strength, cheapness, compactness and
durability. Paper was known in civilized Europe for at least two

centuries before typography was invented, but it was not
produced in sufficient quantity nor of a proper quality until the
beginning of the fifteenth century.
The old Romans had no substitute for paper that could have
been devoted to printing or book-making. The papyrus which
they used was so brittle that it could not be folded, creased and
sewed like modern rag paper. It could not be bound up in
books; it could not be rolled up, unsupported, like a sheet of
parchment. It was secure only when it had been carefully
wound around a wooden roller. The scribes of Rome and the
book copyists of the middle ages preferred vellum. It was
preferred by illuminators after printing had been invented. But
vellum was never a favorite material among printers. In its dry
state, it is harsh, and wears types; it is greasy, and resists ink; in
its moistened state, it is flabby, treacherous and unmanageable.
The early books on vellum are not so neatly printed as those on
paper. But these faults were trivial as compared with the graver
fault of inordinate price. When we consider that the skins of
more than three hundred sheep were used in every copy of the
first printed Bible, it is clear that typography would have been a
failure p042 if it had depended on a liberal supply of vellum.
Even if the restricted size of vellum could have been conformed
to, there were not enough sheep at the end of the fifteenth
century to supply the demands of printing presses for a week.
If the idea of printing books from movable types had been
entertained by an ancient Roman bookseller, or by a copyist,
during the earlier part of the dark ages, it may be doubted
whether he could have devised the mechanism that is needed in
the making of types. For types that are accurate as to body, and
economical as to cost, can be made by one method only. It is, in
the highest degree, improbable, that the scientific method of
making types by mechanism could have been invented at an
earlier date than the fifteenth century. There was mechanical

skill enough for the production of any kind of ingenious hand
work, but the spirit that prompted men to construct machines
and labor-saving apparatus was deficient or but feebly
exercised. There was no more of true science in mechanics than
there was in chemistry. The construction of a suitable type-
mould, with its appurtenances, during the dark ages, would
have been as premature as an invention of the steam engine in
the same period.
The civilization of ancient Rome did not require printing. If
all the processes of typography had been revealed to its
scholars the art would not have been used. The wants of readers
and writers were abundantly supplied by the pen. Papyrus paper
was cheap, and scribes were numerous; Rome had more
booksellers than it needed, and books were made faster than
they could be sold. The professional scribes were educated
slaves, who, fed and clothed at nominal expense, and organized
under the direction of wealthy publishers, were made so
efficient in the production of books, that typography, in an open
competition, could have offered few advantages.
Our knowledge of the Roman organization of labor in the
field of book-making is not as precise as could be wished; but
the frequent notices of books, copyists and publishers, made by
many authors during the first century, teach us that p043 books
were plentiful. Horace, the elegant and fastidious man of
letters, complained that his books were too common, and that
they were sometimes found in the hands of vulgar snobs for
whose entertainment they were not written. Martial, the jovial
man of the world, boasted that his books of stinging epigrams
were to be found in everybody’s hands or pockets. Books were
read not only in the libraries, but at the baths, in the porticoes of
houses, at private dinners and in mixed assemblies. The
business of book-making was practised by too many people,
and some were incompetent. Lucian, who had a keen

perception of pretense in every form, ridicules the publishers as
ignoramuses. Strabo, who probably wrote illegibly, says that
the books of booksellers were incorrect.

Tablet with Waxed Surface. Manuscript Roll, with Title on the Ticket.
Scrinium or Case for Manuscripts. Papyrus Manuscript partially Unrolled.
Roman Scrinium, with Rolls of Papyrus. ♠

The prices of books made by slave labor were necessarily
low. Martial says that his first book of epigrams was sold in
plain binding for six sesterces, about twenty-four cents of
American money; the same book in sumptuous binding was
valued at five denarii, about eighty cents. He subsequently
complained that his thirteenth book was sold for only four
sesterces, about sixteen cents. He frankly admits that half of
this sum was profit, but intimates, somewhat ungraciously, that
the publisher Tryphon gave him too small a share. Of the merits
of this old disagreement between the author and publisher, we
have not enough of facts to justify an opinion. We learn that
some publishers, like Tryphon and the brothers p044 Sosii,
acquired wealth, but there are many indications that publishing
was then, as it is now, one of the most speculative kinds of
business. One writer chuckles over the unkind fate that sent so
many of the unsold books of rival authors from the warehouses
of the publisher, to the shops of grocers and bakers, where they
were used to wrap up pastry and spices; another writer says that
the unsold stock of a bookseller was sometimes bought by
butchers and trunk-makers.

The Romans not only had plenty of books but they had a
manuscript daily newspaper, the Acta Diurna , which seems to
have been a record of the proceedings of the senate. We do not
know how it was written, nor how it was published, but it was
frequently mentioned by contemporary writers as the regular
official medium for transmitting intelligence. It was sent to
subscribers in distant cities, and was, sometimes, read to an
assembled army. Cicero mentions the Acta as a sheet in which
he expected to find the city news and gossip about marriages
and divorces.
In the sixth century the business of book-making had fallen
into hopeless decay. Ignorance pervaded all ranks of society.7
The books that had been written were neglected, and the
number of readers and scholars diminished with every
succeeding generation.8 The treasures of literature at Rome,
Constantinople and Alexandria which were destroyed by fire or
by barbaric invasion were not replaced. Books were so scarce at
the close of the seventh century, that Pope Martin requested one
of his bishops to supply them, if possible, from Germany. The
ignorance of ecclesiastics in high station was p045 alarming.
During this century, and for centuries afterward, there were
many bishops and archbishops of the church who could not
sign their names. It was asserted at a council of the church held
in the year 992, that scarcely a single person was to be found in
Rome itself who knew the first element of letters. Hallam says,
“To sum up the account of ignorance in a word, it was rare for a
layman of any rank to know how to sign his name.”
Charlemagne could not write, and Frederic Barbarossa could
not read; John, king of Bohemia, and Philip the Hardy, king of
France, were ignorant of both accomplishments.9 The graces of
literature were tolerated only in the ranks of the clergy; the
layman who preferred letters to arms was regarded as a man of
mean spirit. When the crusaders took Constantinople, in 1204,

they exposed to public ridicule the pens and inkstands that they
found in the conquered city as the ignoble arms of a
contemptible race of students.
During this period of intellectual darkness, which lasted from
the fifth until the fifteenth century, a period sometimes
described, and not improperly, as the dark ages, there was no
need for any improvement in the old method of making books.
The world was not then ready for typography. The invention
waited for readers more than it did for types; the multitude of
book-buyers upon which its success depended had to be
created. Books were needed as well as readers. The treatises of
the old Roman sophists and rhetoricians, the dialectics of
Aristotle and the schoolmen, and the commentaries on
ecclesiastical law of the fathers of the church, were the works
which engrossed the attention of men of letters for many
centuries before the invention of typography. Useful as these
books may have been to the small class of readers for whose
benefit they were written, they were of no benefit to a people
who required the elements of knowledge.
We may imagine the probable fate of a premature and
unappreciated invention of typography by thinking of results
that might have been and have not been accomplished by
printing among a people who were not prepared to use it as p046
it should be used. Printing has been practised in China for many
centuries, but there can be no comparison between the fruits of
printing in China and in Europe. The remarkable inefficiency of
the Chinese method is the result not so much of clumsiness of
the process, as of the perverseness of a people who are unable
to improve it, and unwilling to accept the improvements of
Europeans. The first printing press brought to the New World
was set up in the City of Mexico about one hundred years
before a printing office was established in Massachusetts.
Books were printed in Constantinople, perhaps as early as

1490, certainly before types were thought of in Scotland. And
now Scotland sends types and books to Turkey, and Boston
sends printing paper and presses to Mexico. If the people of
Turkey and Mexico are receiving benefits from printing, the
benefits have been derived from the practice of the art abroad
and not at home.
In making an estimate of the service that printing has done
for the world, we frequently overlook the supports by which it
has been upheld. It is a common belief that the diffusion of
knowledge which was so clearly manifested in the fifteenth
century was due to the invention of printing. This belief
reverses the proper order, and substitutes the effect for the
cause. It was the broader diffusion of knowledge that made
smooth the way for the development of typography. In its
infancy, the invention was indebted for its existence to
improvements in liberal and mechanical arts; in its maturity, it
is largely indebted for its success to discoveries in science, and
to reforms in government.
The magnetic telegraph is the most recent discovery, and of
the most importance, in its services to the daily newspaper
press. The circulation of leading American daily newspapers
has more than trebled since the invention of the telegraph.
The free public schools of America have done much to
promote the growth of printing. If the State did not offer free
books and free education, a large portion of the people would
grow up in ignorance. Every scholar in a public school p047
becomes for life a reader, and to some extent, a purchaser of
books. The value of the school-books manufactured in the
United States annually, has been estimated at fifteen million
dollars. Of Webster’s Spelling-Book alone, thirty-five million
copies have been sold, and a million copies are printed every
year. If printing were deprived of the support it receives from
public schools, there would at once follow a noticeable

decrease in the production of printed matter, and a
corresponding decrease in the number of readers and book-
buyers.
To foster the tastes which have been cultivated by public
schools and newspapers, some States have established public
libraries in every school district. There are, also, a great many
valuable libraries which have been established by voluntary
association or by individual bequest. These libraries create
books as well as readers.
Railroads, steamboats and package expresses are aids of as
great importance. The New-York daily newspaper, printed early
in the morning, is sold within a radius of three hundred miles
before sunset of the same day. Newspapers now find hundreds
of eager purchasers in places where they would not have found
one in the days of stage-coaches. The benefits of cheap and
quick transportation are also favorable to the sale of books. A
bookseller’s package, weighing one hundred pounds, will be
carried from New York to St. Louis, on the Mississippi, within
sixty-five hours, at an average expense of three dollars. When
there was no railroad from St. Louis to San Francisco, the
overland charges on one hundred pounds of books were one
hundred dollars. The long delays and great expenses of stage-
coach transportation would operate almost as a prohibition to
the sale of periodicals and new books.
The greatest legislative aid that printing has received is
through the facilities which are furnished by post-offices and
mails. They create readers. Weekly newspapers are now sent,
for one year, for twenty cents, to subscribers in the most remote
corner of the Union. Books are sent three thousand miles at the
rate of one cent per ounce. The improvement p048 of postal
facilities has increased the number of readers and purchasers of
newspapers to an amount unforeseen by the most sanguine
projector.

All these aids are, comparatively, of recent introduction. The
beginnings of the telegraph, the railroad and the express are
within the memory of the men of the present generation. The
systematic establishment of free schools and libraries is the
work of the present century. Public mails and post-offices were
introduced in 1530, but it is only within the past forty years that
their management has been more liberal for the benefit of the
people. It is by aids like these, and not by its intrinsic merits
alone, that printing has received its recent development. It was
for the want of these aids that printing languished for many
years after its invention. One has but to consider the many
supports printing has received to see that its premature
invention would have been fruitless.
If, even now, when books and readers and literary tastes are
as common as they were infrequent, it is necessary to the
success of printing that there shall be schools and libraries,
cheap and rapid methods of travel, generous postal facilities, a
liberal government and a broad toleration of the greatest
differences in opinion, what but failure could have been
expected when the world was destitute of nearly all? Printing
not only had to wait many centuries for improvements in
mechanical appliances, without which it would have been
worthless; it had to wait for a greater number of readers, for
liberal governments, for instructive writers, for suitable books.
It came at the proper time, not too soon, not too late. “Not the
man, the age invents.”

III

Conflicting Theories about the Invention of Typography . . . Was it an Invention or a
Combination? . . . Errors of Superficial Observers . . . Merit of the Invention is not
in Impression . . . Not altogether in Types or Composition . . . Types of no value
unless they are Accurate . . . Hand-made Types Impracticable . . . Merit of
Invention is in the Method of Making Types . . . Is but One Method . . .
Description . . . Counter-Punch . . . Punch . . . Matrix . . . Mould . . . Illustrations
. . . Type-Making as Illustrated by Moxon in 1683 . . . As Illustrated by Amman in
1564 . . . Notices of Type-Making by Earlier Authors . . . Type-Mould the Symbol
of Typography . . . Inventor of the Type-Mould the Inventor of Typography . . . A
Great Invention, but Original only in the Type-Mould.

T H E R E is a wide-spread belief that ty­pog­raphy was, in all its
details, a purely original invention. A popular version of its
origin, hereafter to be related, says that it was the result of an
accidental discovery; a conflicting version says that it was the
result of more than thirteen years of secret experiment. Each
version teaches us that there was no perceptible unfolding of
the invention; that the alleged inventor created all that he
needed, that he made his types, ink and presses, that he derived
nothing of value from the labors of earlier printers. If
typography was invented by Gutenberg, it was fitly introduced
by the sudden appearance of the printed Bible in two folio

volumes; if invented by Coster, by the unheralded publication
of a thin folio of large p050 wood-cuts with descriptive text of
type. If either of these versions is accepted in the form in which
it is usually told, we must also believe that printing, in the form
of perfected typography, leaped, Minerva-like, fully equipped,
from the brain of the inventor.
There is another belief, which is strongly maintained by a
few scholars, that typography was not an original invention,
that it was nothing more than a new application of the old
theories and methods of impression which have already been
described. According to this view, the practice of engraving is
at least as old as the oldest Egyptian seal; the publication of
written language can be traced to the Babylonish bricks;
printing with ink, as indicated by old Roman hand stamps, was
practised as early as the fifth century; the combinations of
movable letters were suggested by Cicero and St. Jerome. All
that was needed for the full development of typography was the
invention of paper. Supplied with paper, the so-called inventor
of typography did no more than combine the old theories and
processes, and give them a new application. He really invented
nothing.
In this conflict of opinion, the critical reader will note an
inability to perceive the difference between impression and
typography. Those who believe in the entire originality of
typography ascribe its merit to the mind that first thought of the
combinations of types; those who deny its originality find its
vital element in pressure. With one class, the merit of the
invention is in the idea of types; with the other, it is in the
impression of types. Neither view is entirely correct.
A printer may see how these errors could be developed. The
unreflecting observer, who, for the first time, surveys the
operations of a printing office, finds in the fast presses the true
vital principle of printing. With him, presswork is printing;

type-setting and type-making are only adjuncts. He was the
inventor of the modern art of printing who built the first press,
and printed the first book. The conclusion is illogical, as will be
shown on another page. If a radical p051 improvement had not
been made in the earliest method of printing books, the art
would have been as unproductive in Europe as it has been in
China. The fast press may do its work admirably, but its only
functions are those of inking and impressing, and impression is
not typography.
The thoughtful observer will perceive that the merit of
modern printing is not in impression; that there would be
neither fast presses, nor great books, nor daily newspapers, if
there were no types. With him, whatever of greatness there is in
printing is due to the mind that first imagined the utility of
types. The grandness of the results that have been achieved by
typography seem all the grander when he thinks that these
results have been accomplished with such simple tools as little
cubes of metal. The making of these tools he regards as a
matter of minor importance. For in these types are visible no
intricacy of mechanism as in the power loom, no indications of
a mysterious agency as in the magnetic telegraph, no evidences
of scientific skill as in photographic apparatus. There are in
types, apparently, no more evidences of genius or science than
there are in pins or needles. The grotesque types of the fifteenth
century are rated by him, and even by many mechanics, as rude
workmanship which could have been done by a carver in wood
or a founder in metal. He who could imagine them could make
them. To think was to do. The merit of the invention of
typography is accordingly adjudged, not to the inventive spirit
which constructed the mould by which the types were made,
but to the genius which first thought of the utility of types. This
is a grave error.

Speculations like these, which assign all the merit of the
invention of typography to him who first conceived the idea of
types, are opposed to many facts and probabilities. Cicero and
Jerome could not have been the only men who thought of the
combinations of engraved letters; nor were the old Roman
lamp-makers and branders of cattle the only men who used
types. The idea of stamping with detached letters p052 could
have been entertained, and practised, by hundreds of
experimenters of whom there is no tradition. It is probable that
there was such a practice, but the stamping of single types by
hand pressure was not typography, nor did it lead to its
subsequent invention. Experimental types like these, which had
been cut by hand, were of no practical value, for they could not
have been used on any extensive scale.
There is something more in types than is
apparent at the first glance. Simple as they
may seem, they are evidences of notable
mechanical skill in the matter of accuracy.
The page before the reader was composed
with more than 2,000 pieces of metal; the
Illustration of Types of ♠
large page of a daily paper may contain
Irregular Body. more than 150,000 of these little pieces.
Whether the page is large or small, the
types are always closely fitted to each other; they stand
accurately in line, and the page is truly square. If the types of
one character, as of the letter a, should be made the merest trifle
larger or smaller than its fellows in the same font, all the types,
when composed, will show the consequences of the defect. The
irregularity of line that is scarcely perceptible in the first row
will be offensively distinct in the second. It will increase with
each succeeding row, until the types become a heap of
confusion which cannot be handled by the printer. Advantages
which might be secured from movable types are made of no

effect by an irregularity so slight that it would be passed
unnoticed in the workmanship of ordinary trades. The
illustration proves that it is not enough for types to be movable;
they must be accurate as to body; they must fit each other with
geometrical precision.
The accuracy of modern printing types is due more to the
nice mechanisms employed by the type-founder than to his
personal skill. He could cut types by hand, but the cost of hand-
cut types would be enormous, and they would be vastly p053
inferior to types made by the type-casting machine. He could
make types by a variety of mechanical methods, but they would
be imperfect and unsatisfactory. A careful survey of the
impracticable inventions in type-founding, recorded in the
patent offices of this country and Great Britain, proves that
there is, virtually, but one method of making types. The
requirements of accuracy and cheapness can be met only by
making them of metal, and casting them in a mould of metal.10
Although it is clearly understood, by all persons who have a
practical knowledge of the subject, that practical types can be
made only by casting, many popular books repeat the old story
that the first typographic books were printed with types which
had been cut by hand out of wood or metal. Whether the
mechanics of the middle ages could have done what modern
mechanics cannot do,—cut types with bodies of satisfactory
accuracy—need not now be considered. The stories about hand-
made types—about types that were sawed out of wood blocks
—about types that were cut out of wooden rods, and skewered
together with iron wires—about types that were engraved on
the ends of cubes of metal—will be examined at greater length
on an advanced page. Even if these doubtful stories were
verified, it would still remain to be proved that the cut types
had advantages over letters engraved on wood. It would be
difficult to give reasons for their introduction. Books composed

with cut types could not be neatly printed; they would be
inferior to good manuscripts in appearance, but not inferior in
price. Cut types p054 were as impracticable in the infancy of the
art as they are now. There is no trustworthy evidence that they
were ever used for any other purpose than that of experiment.
Every method for making merchantable types, save that of
casting, is a failure. Typography would be a great failure, if its
types were not cast by scientific methods. This understood, we
can see that the most meritorious feature in the invention does
not belong to him who first thought of the advantages of types,
nor even to him who first made them by impracticable methods.
Its honors are really due to the man to whose sagacity and
patience in experiment we are indebted for the type-mould, for
he was the first to make types which could be used with
advantage.
It will now be necessary to explain the scientific
method of making types which is practised by every
type-founder. The first process is the making of model
letters. The work begins with the cutting on steel of a
tool which is known as the Counter-punch. The
illustration represents the face of a counter-punch for
the letter H, of the size usually known among type-
founders as Double-English. This counter-punch is an
engraving, in high relief, of the hollow or the counter of that
interior part of the letter H which does not show black in the
printed impression. It has apparently, no resemblance to the
letter for which it is made. When the proportions of the counter-
punch have been duly approved, it is stamped or impressed to a
proper depth on the end of a short bar of soft steel. Properly
stamped, the counter-punch finishes by one quick stroke the
interior part of the model letter, and does it more quickly and
neatly than it could be done by cutting tools.

The short bar of soft steel is known as a Punch.
When it has received the impress of the counter-
punch, the punch cutter, for so the engraver of
letters is called in type-foundries, cuts away the
outer edges until the model letter is pronounced
perfect. This is work of great exactness, for the
millions of types that may be made by means of the
punch p055 will reproduce all its peculiarities,
whether of merit or defect. The steel of the punch is
then hardened until it has sufficient strength to
Punch. ♠ penetrate prepared copper. It is then punched, by
quick and strong pressure, on the flat side of a
narrow bar of cold rolled copper. This operation makes a
reversed or sunken imprint of the letter on the punch. In this
condition, the punched copper bar is known among type-
founders as a Drive, or a Strike, or an Unjustified Matrix. It
becomes the Matrix proper, only after it has been carefully
fitted-up to suit the mould. The exterior surface of the drive
must be made truly flat, and this flatness must be parallel with
the face of the stamped or sunken letter in the interior. The
sides of the drive must be squared, so that the interior letter
shall be at a fixed distance from the sides. The depth of the
stamped letter, and its distance from the sides, must be made
absolutely uniform in all the matrices required for a font or a
complete assortment of letters. The object of this nicety is to
secure a uniform height to all the types, and to facilitate the
frequent changes of matrix on the mould. The justifying and
fitting of matrices to moulds is one of the most exact operations
in the art of type-founding.
For every character or letter really required in a full working
assortment of types, the type-founder cuts a separate punch and
fits up a separate matrix; but for all the characters or letters
which are made to be used together, there is but one mould.

Types are of no use, as has been shown, if they
cannot be arranged and handled with facility, and
printed in lines that are truly parallel. However
unlike they may be in face, they must be exactly
alike in body. This uniformity of body, which is as
p056 essential as variety of face, can be most
certainly secured by casting all the types in one
mould. All the matrices are, consequently, made
with a view to being fitted to one mould. The mould Matrix.11
forms the body, and the matrix forms the face of the
type. With nearly every change of matrix there must be a new
adjustment of the mould.
The word Body, as used by printers and type-founders,
means the measurement of a type in one direction only—in a
direction at a right angle with the regular lines or rows of
printed matter. The types of the accompanying illustration are
of the same height, but they are of different bodies.

Pica Small-pica Long-primer Bourgeois Brevier Minion Nonpareil
body. body. body. body. body. body. body.
(See also page 18.) ♠

Exactness of body could be secured with little difficulty if all
the types belonging to the same font were of the same width,
and could be cast in one fixed and unalterable mould. But types
of the same font and same body are of all widths. They vary, in
the letters from the l to the W; in the spaces or blanks used to
separate the words, from the hair space to the three-em quadrat.
The spaces in the following illustrations are of the same body,

but they are of different widths, to suit the peculiarities of
different kinds of printed matter.

Six-in-em Five-in-em Four-in-em Three-in- En Em Two-em Three-em
space. space. space. em space. quad­rat. quad­rat. quad­rat. quad­rat.

It is not prac­ti­ca­ble to
make a mould for each
cha­rac­ter; the cost would
be enormous, and the
multi­pli­city of moulds
p057 would lead to fatal
faults in inac­cu­racy of Figure 1. Type-Mould, without Matrix and ♠
with a Type in the Mould.
body. Exact­ness of body
can be had only by casting all the characters in one mould, but
this mould must be made to suit all the matrices. The matrices
must be frequently changed, but with such nicety that the types
of every letter shall be uniform in height, in line, and truly
square. Any mechanic will see that the construction of an
adjustable mould is work of difficulty, and that the fitting-up of
a set of matrices for one mould is a very nice operation.
The Type-Mould of
modern type-founders
consists of two firmly
screwed com­bi­na­tions of a
number of pieces of steel,
making right and left
halves. In the first il­lus­tra­‐
tion of the mould, Figure Figure 2. One Half of the Mould. ♠
1, the halves are pro­per­ly
con­nected. In this form it is not prac­ti­ca­ble to re­pre­sent the
interior, but it may be under­stood that the in­terior faces fit each
other snugly in every part but the centre, in which pro­vision is

made for a small opening which
can be in­creased or di­min­ished
in a la­teral di­rec­tion only. One
end of this opening is closed by
the matrix; the other end is the
jet, or the mouth-piece through
which the melted metal is
Figure 3. The Other Half of the ♠
injected. In this opening, which Mould.
is indicated by the letter H in the
cut, the body of type is cast. The matrix which forms the face of
the type is snugly fitted between the jaws on p058 either side of
this letter H. It does not appear in the cut; for the matrices,
although indispensable parts, are always looked upon by
founders as attachments to the mould.
Figures 2 and 3 represent the interior sides of the mould. For
the purpose of clearer illustration, the half of the mould, Figure
2, is shown reversed, or upside down; but when this half is
connected with its mate, the two halves appear as they do in
Figure 1. These two halves differ from each other only in a few
minor features. They are so constructed that, when joined, the
sides which determine the body of the types are in exact
parallel, and at a-fixed and unalterable distance from each
other. In Figure 2, the ridges which make the nicks are
noticeable; in Figure 3 the cast type is shown as it appears
before it is thrown from the mould, with jet attached.12
Although the two sides of the mould are fixed so as to be
immovable in the direction which determines the body of the
type, they have great freedom of motion and nicety of
adjustment in the direction which determines its width. They
can be brought close together, so as to make a hair space, or can
be fixed wide apart, so as to cast a three-em quadrat, but they
always slide on broad and solid bearings, between guides which
keep them from getting out of square.

In the construction of the mould and adjustment of the
matrices, every care is taken to insure exactness of body. The
illustration on page 52 may be again referred to as an example
of the necessity for minute accuracy. We there see that the
feasibility of typography depends upon the geometrical
exactness of its tools, and that types are of no practical use, if
they cannot be readily combined and interchanged.
The casting or founding of types, in a mould constructed like
that of the engraving, is now accomplished by a complex
machine, the invention of Mr. David Bruce, Jr., of New-York
city, and by him patented in the year 1838. Before this date p059
all types were cast by hand, from a hand-mould, and by a
process which received no noticeable improvement for two
centuries. The following illustration, taken from an engraving
published by an early English type-founder,13 can be offered as
a substantially correct representation of the method of casting
which was practised by all type-founders in the first quarter of
this century.

Type-Casting as Practised in 1683. ♠
[From Moxon.]

The type-caster took in his left hand the mould, which was
imbedded in a wood frame, and shielded about the jet, p060 to
protect him from accidental splashes of melted metal. Then,
with his right hand, he took from the melting pot a spoonful of
the hot metal, which he quickly poured into the jet or mouth of
the mould. At the same instant, with a sudden jerk, he threw up
his left hand, so as to aid the melted metal in making a forcible
splash against the matrix at the bottom of the mould. This
sudden jerk or throw was needed, in the casting of small letters,
to make a good face to the type. If it was not done, the metal

would cool too quickly, and would not penetrate the finer lines
of the matrix. Long practice enabled the type-caster to do this
work with apparent carelessness; but the trick of making this
throw or cast with the left hand, at the right time and in the
right manner, was slowly acquired—by some strong men, never
acquired at all. In all cases, hand-casting was hard work. To
face types, writes August Bernard, the type-caster must make
the contortions of a maniac. It was slow work. Fournier the
younger, writing in 1764, says that the performance of the type-
caster of ordinary book types would vary from two thousand to
three thousand types per day. When this throw was made, the
type-caster removed the matrix with his right hand, and, giving
the mould a toss, threw out the type. The matrix was then
replaced on the mould, and the operations which have been
described were repeated in the casting of every subsequent
type.
It must be confessed that this method of making types is not
simple. It is too circuitous in its processes, and too complex in
its machinery, to be regarded as the fruit of the first lucky
thought of the inventor. It is a scientific process, manifestly the
result of thought and protracted experiment. In its series of
impressions, it is an emblem of the art which it has created. The
counter-punch impresses the punch, the punch impresses the
matrix, the melted metal impresses the matrix and mould. One
model letter on the punch is the instrument by which millions
of types are made; one letter on a type may serve in the printing
of millions of words. p061
The punch, matrix and mould are old inventions, but they are
still in use in all type-foundries. They have not been changed in
any important feature since they were explicitly described and
illustrated for the first time, by Joseph Moxon. As Moxon did
not claim these implements as his own invention—as we find in
the writings of the authors who preceded him notices of the art

of cutting letters, and mention of tools “which they called
matrices,” and of “making types in brass” [matrices or moulds],
we have some reason for the belief that there has never been
any radical change in the processes of type-making.
Unfortunately, we have no minute des­crip­tion of the art of
type-making as it was practised before Moxon. Those who were
competent to describe the work, refrained from description,
either because they thought that the subject was trivial or
technical, or because they intended to conceal the process. The
authors who did undertake to describe the art were
incompetent; they did not thoroughly understand the subject,
and have treated it slightingly and incorrectly. But we are not
entirely in the dark.
Our most authentic information is contained in a queer little
book by Jost Amman, which is known to modern book-
collectors as The Book of Trades ,14 and which was published at
Frankfort-on-the-Main, in the year 1564. The title of the book,
with text in German, describes it as Hans Sachs’ Correct
Description of all Arts, Ranks and Trades , with printed p062
illustrations. The descriptions, so called, which were written in
verse, by Hans Sachs, the cobbler poet, are of no value for this
inquiry: they describe nothing. To men seeking trustworthy
information about art or manufactures, all the merit of the book
is in its numerous engravings on wood, which may be accepted
as faithful illustrations of the methods and usages observed
during the sixteenth century.

Type-Casting as Practised in 1564. ♠
[From Jost Amman.]

Among the illus­tra­tions is the schrift­gies­ser , or the type-
founder, with the ac­ces­sories of his art about him. We see the
furnace for melting the metal, the bellows, the tongs and the
basket of charcoal. That the man is founding types is apparent,
not only from the bowl of cast types on the floor before the
stool, but from his position with spoon in hand. Here we begin
to note differences. The type-caster of 1683 stands up to his
work; the schrift­giesser of Amman is sitting down. The mould

of 1683, like the hand moulds that were in use forty years ago,
is provided with a wire spring, to keep the matrix firmly in
position; the mould of Amman has no spring of iron wire and it
is nested in a pyramid-shaped box, which seems to be used as a
protection to the hand. How the mould was nested in the box,
how the matrix was attached to the mould, how the cast types
were dislodged from the mould, is not shown in the engraving.
We have to regret p063 that the wood-cut is so small, and that
Amman’s engraving is so coarse. There are some indications
that, in its more important features, the mould of Amman was
like that of Moxon. The little opening in the side of the mould
which rests on the shelf may have been an opening for the
insertion of matrices. That metal matrices were used is dimly
shown by the three little bars resting on the top of a small nest
of drawers, which has the appearance of a chest for punches
and matrices. The pyramidal box was not only the nest of the
mould, but served also as a support for the matrix. The sitting
position of the caster permitted him to give the box a throw or
jerk; with his right hand at liberty, he could pull out the mould
and dislodge the type in the usual manner.
There are other features in Amman’s wood-cut requiring
notice. Upon the lower shelf are two crucibles, which were put
in use, probably, when making the alloy of type-metal. The use
of the sieves is not apparent; they may have been needed to sift
the sand for the sand moulds, in which bars of type-metal were
made, and in which large initial types were cast. The crucibles,
the furnace, the mould, the position of the type-caster, and the
single types with jets attached, are enough to prove that types
were cast, one by one, by the process subsequently described
by Moxon. It is plain that the elementary principles of type-
founding were as clearly understood in 1564 as they are at this
day.

The most obscure feature in this wood-cut is the matrix. The
three little bits resting on the chest of drawers are too rudely cut
to enable us to decide positively that they are matrices. We infer
that they are from their surroundings and from the apparent
necessity for such implements; but it would be more
satisfactory to know, and not infer, that the early type-founders
used matrices of hard metal.
There are no engravings of type-founding of earlier date than
this cut of Amman’s, but we have some evidences which point
to a very early use of moulds of hard metal. We find in many of
the books of the sixteenth and fifteenth centuries p064
occasional allusions to type-making. Considered separately,
they are of little importance; considered together, they are
ample proof that types were made of fluid metal in moulds and
matrices of brass, not less than one hundred years before
Amman made his wood-cuts.
In 1507, Ivo Wittig put up a stone to the memory of John
Gutenberg, on which he had engraved that Gutenberg was the
first to make printing letters in brass . [anc64] We do not find in
any record of authority that Gutenberg printed books by types
cut out of brass. There are difficulties connected with the
cutting and use of brass types which would make such an
assertion incredible. If we accept the literal translation of the
Latin epitaph, and supplement it with a little knowledge of
type-founding, we shall then understand what Wittig meant—
that Gutenberg, by using melted metal, made types in brass
moulds.
Trithemius, writing in 1514, observes that Gutenberg and
Fust “discovered a method of founding the forms of all the
letters, which they called matrices, from which they cast metal
types.” The statement of the bishop is somewhat confused, and
his specification of Fust as an inventor is, probably, incorrect,
but every typographer who reads his description cannot fail to

see that he has endeavored to describe the established method
of making types—the method in use to this day.
Peter Schœffer, in a book printed by him in 1466, makes the
book metaphorically say, “I am cast at Mentz.” He says the
types were cast, although he elsewhere praises himself as a
more skillful cutter of letters than Fust or Gutenberg.
Bernard Cennini, writing at Florence in 1471, says that the
letters of his book were first cut and then cast.
Nicholas Jenson, who calls himself a cutter of books, says in
one of them, published in 1485, that the book, meaning the
types of the book, was cut and cast by a divine art.
Husner of Strasburg, in the imprint of a book made by him in
1473, says (translating his language literally) that it was printed
“with sculptured letters from brass,” or, as it p065 could be more
clearly construed, with letters in high relief, made from brass
matrices. That Husner did not mean to say that his printing
types were cut out of brass, is more clearly shown in the
imprint of another book printed by him in 1476, in which he
says, literally, that it was printed, “without doubt, with
sculptured letters, scientifically begun in brass.”15
That the cutting, so frequently mentioned by the early
printers, was the cutting of punches, is apparent to every
modern typographer who knows that, in the manufacture of
types, punch-cutting is not only the first process in order of
time, but first in order of artistic importance. That the types said
to be made of brass were made in brass moulds and matrices
could, in the absence of other proof, be inferred from the
appearance of the books of the fifteenth century. These types
often show varieties of the same letter and have other
peculiarities disagreeable to modern tastes, but there is strict
uniformity in each variety, and an accuracy of body which
could have been secured by no other method than p066 that of
casting them in moulds and matrices of hard metal. There is

other evidence which is even more direct. In the Magliabechi
library at Florence is preserved the original Cost Book of the
Directors of the Ripoli Press of that city, for the interval
between the years 1474 and 1483.16 In this book may be found,
among other papers of value, a list of the prices which were
then paid for the supplies or materials used in the type-foundry
connected with the Ripoli Press. In this list we see the names of
the metals that are used in all modern type-foundries. There can
be no question of the statement that the types of this foundry
were cast in metal moulds.
P RICES OF M ATERIAL FOR THE T YPE -F OUNDRY.
Materials. Tuscan Currency American Currency
per pound. per pound.
Steel, lir. 2 8 0 $2.18
Metal, (Antimony?) 11 0 .50
Brass, 12 0 .54
Copper, 68 .30
Tin, 80 .36
Lead, 24 .10 1⁄ 2
Iron Wire, 80 .36

It would not be difficult to present additional evidence
tending to prove that the punch, the matrix and the mould of
hard metal were used by the earliest typographers, but this
evidence will be given with more propriety in another chapter.
On this page, it is enough to record, as the result of the future
inquiry, that printing types have always been made by one
method. The significance of this fact should not be overlooked.
It has been shown that printing, as we now use it, could not
exist without types, and that there would be no types if we did
not know how to make them in adjustable type-moulds. In this
type-mould we find the key to the invention of typography. It is
not the press, nor the types, but the type-mould that must be
accepted as the origin and the symbol of the art. He was the

inventor of p067 typography, and the founder of modern
printing, who made the first adjustable type-mould.
It is a curious circumstance, and not creditable to the sagacity
of the historians of typography, that the importance of this
implement, upon which the existence of typography depends,
has never been fully appreciated. That the type-mould was first
made by the inventor of typography need not be discussed. We
have no knowledge that any method of founding different sizes
and forms from an adjustable mould was attempted before the
fifteenth century. There was no need for such a mould in any
other art. But we have indirect evidences in abundance that the
early printers considered their method of making types as a
meritorious and original invention. Peter Schœffer described it
as a new and unheard-of art; Bishop Trithemius said that it was
found out only through the good providence of God; Jenson
said it was a divine art; Husner said it was a scientific method;
Wittig said that the inventor has deserved well of the wide
world. It would be useless to attempt to add anything to these
tributes—quite as useless to attempt to break their force.
Typography, made practicable and perfect by means of the
type-mould, was an original and a great invention. If the
inventor had produced nothing more than the type-mould, this
would be enough to entitle him to the highest honor.
It is tribute enough to acknowledge that the inventor of the
type-mould was the inventor of typography. It is not logical nor
truthful to attribute to him the introduction or the rediscovery of
the simple elements of relief printing. It is not derogatory to his
honor to confess that his labors were materially lightened by
the services of men who had gone before him and had prepared
materials for his use. The inventor of the type-mould did not
invent paper, for that had been known for two centuries before;
he did not originate engraving on wood, nor impressions from
relief surfaces, for both processes were known before paper

was made; he was not the first to print upon paper, for printed
matter, in the p068 forms of playing cards and prints of pictures,
was a merchantable commodity before he was born. He was not
the first to make printed books; it is not certain that he made the
first printing press; it is not probable that he was the first to
think of movable types. His merits rest on a securer basis.
While others dreamed and thought, and, no doubt, made
experiments, he was the first to do practical and useful work—
the first to make types that could be used—the first to
demonstrate the utility of typography. The first practical
typographer, but not the first printer, he was really at the end of
a long line of unknown workmen whose knowledge and
experience in ruder forms of printing were important
contributions toward the invention of the perfect method.
The contributions made by the men who practised ruder
forms of printing demand a fuller description. The merit of
printing with types cannot be fully appreciated until it has been
contrasted with the printing that preceded types. It will be an
instructive lesson to trace the origin of a great art to its sources.

IV

Were Engraved on Wood . . . Print of St. Christopher . . . Print of Annunciation . . .
Print of St. Bridget . . . Other German Engravings on Wood . . . Flemish
Indulgence Print . . . The Brussels Print . . . The Berlin Print . . . All Image Prints
from Germany or the Netherlands . . . How were they Printed? . . . Not by the
Frotton . . . Methods of taking Proof now used by Engravers and Printers . . .
Images copied from Illustrated Manuscripts . . . Not made by Monks . . . Images
highly prized by the People . . . The Beginning of Dissent in the Church . . .
Preceded by Ruder Prints.

O N E of the purposes to which early print­ing was ap­plied was
the man­u­fac­ture of en­graved and col­ored pic­tures of sacred per­‐
sonages. These pic­tures, or image prints, as they are called by
bib­lio­graphers, were made of many sizes; some of them are but
little larger than the palm of the hand, others are of the size of a
half sheet of foolscap. In a few prints there are pe­cu­liar­i­ties of
tex­ture which have pro­voked the thought that they may have

been printed from plates of p070 soft metal like lead or pewter;
but this conjecture has never been verified. We find in many of
the prints the clearest indications that they were taken from
engravings on wood. With a few exceptions, these prints were
colored; some were painted, but more were colored by means
of stenciling, as is abundantly proved by the mechanical
irregularities which are always produced by the occasional
slipping of the stencil. The colors are gross, glaring, and so
inartistically applied that the true outlines of the figures are
frequently obscured. The quality of the engraving is unequal;
some prints are neatly, and others are rudely cut, but in nearly
all of them the engraving is in simple outline. We seldom see
any shading tints, or any cross-hatchings, rarely ever any
attempt to produce a perspective by the use of fine or faint
lines. The absence of shading lines is not entirely due to the
imperfect skill of the engravers. The engravings seem to have
been cut for no other purpose than that of showing the colors of
the stencil painter to advantage, by giving a definite edge to
masses of color. The taste for prints in black and white had not
then been developed. To the print-buyer of the fifteenth century,
the attraction of the image print was not in its drawing, but in
its vivid color, and its supposed resemblance to the paintings
that adorned p071 the walls of churches and monasteries. The
image print of the fifteenth century was the prototype of the
modern chromo.

The Print of St. Christopher. ♠
Size of original, 8 1⁄ 8 by 11 1⁄ 4 inches.

The St. Christopher, a bold and rude engraving on wood,
which represents the saint in the act of carrying the infant
Saviour across a river, is one of the most remarkable of the
image prints. This print was discovered in the cover of an old
manuscript volume of 1417, among the books of one of the
most ancient convents of Germany, the Chartreuse at Buxheim,

near Memmingen, in Suabia.17 The monks said that the volume
was given to the convent by Anna, canoness of Buchau, who is
known to have been living in 1427. The name of the engraver is
unknown. This convent is about fifty miles from Augsburg, a
city which seems to have been the abode of some of the early
engravers on wood. The date is obscurely given in Roman
numerals at the foot of the picture.

In whatsoever day thou seest the likeness of St.
Christopher,
In that same day thou wilt at least from death no evil 1423.
blow incur.

The date 1423 is evidence only so far as it shows that the block
was engraved in that year. The printing could have been done at
a later date. As it is printed in an ink that is almost black (in
which feature it differs from other early image prints, that are
almost invariably in a dull or faded brown ink), there is reason
to believe that this print was made some time after the
engraving, when the method of making prints with permanent
black ink was more common. p072
This engraving has its merits as well as its absurdities. Chatto
says that the design is better than any he has found in the earlier
type-printed books; that the figure of the saint and that of the
youthful Christ are, with the exception of the extremities,
designed in such a style that they would scarcely discredit
Albert Durer himself.
The accessories are grotesquely treated. One peasant is
driving an ass with a loaded sack to a water-mill; another is
toiling with a bag of grain up a steep hill to his house; another,
to the right, holds a lantern. The relative proportions of these
figures are but a little less absurd than those made famous in
Hogarth’s ironical study of false perspective.

The Annunciation. ♠

These faults of drawing are coun­ter­bal­anced by real merits of
en­graving. There is a notic­eable thick­ening and taper­ing of
lines in proper places, a bold and a free marking of the folds of
drapery, and a general neatness and cleverness of cutting that
indicate the hand of a practised and judicious engraver. This
engraving of St. Christopher is obviously not the first
experiment of an amateur or an untaught inventor.

In the book which contained this print of the St. Christopher
was also found, pasted down within the cover, another p073
engraving on wood, that is now known as the Annunciation. It
is of about the same size as the print of St. Christopher. It is
printed on the same kind of paper, with the same dull black ink.
There is some warrant for the general belief that both
engravings were executed at or about the same time, but they
are so unlike that they cannot be considered as the work of the
same designer nor of the same engraver. The lines of the
Annunciation are more sharply cut; the drawing has more of
detail; there are no glaring faults of perspective.
The Virgin is represented as receiving the salutation of the
angel Gabriel; the Holy Spirit descends in the shape of a dove
proceeding from a part of the print which has been destroyed,
and in which was some symbol of the Almighty. The black field
in the centre of the print was left unrouted by the engraver,
apparently for no other purpose than that of lightening the work
of the colorist, who would otherwise have been required to
paint it black. This method of producing the full blacks of a
colored print was practised by many of the early engravers. Full
black shoes on the feet of human figures may be noticed in
many of Caxton’s wood-cuts while other portions of the print
are in outline. There are portions of this print in which the
practical engraver will note an absence of shading where shades
seem to be needed. The body of the Virgin appears as naked,
except where it is covered by her mantle. It was intended that
an inner garment should be indicated by the brush of the
colorist. What the early engravers on wood could not do with
the graver, they afterward did with the brush. They not only
printed but colored their prints, and the colored work was
usually done in a free and careless manner.
These prints do not contain internal evidences of their origin.
They were found in Germany, but there is nothing in the

designs, nor yet in their treatment, that is distinctively German.
The faces and costumes reveal to us no national characteristics;
the legends are in Latin; the architecture of the Annunciation is
decidedly Italian. p074
But there is a print known as the St. Bridget, a print supposed
to be of nearly the same age as the St. Christopher, which gives
us at least an indication of the people by whom it was
purchased and of the country in which it was printed.

St. Bridget. ♠

Saint Bridget of Sweden, born 1302, died 1373, was one of
the chosen saints of Germany. The print represents her as
writing in a book while the Virgin and the infant Christ look
down approvingly. The letters S. P. Q. R. on the shield, and the
pilgrim’s hat, staff and scrip are supposed to indicate her

pilgrimages to Rome and Jerusalem. The armorial shield has
the arms of Sweden. The legend, if it can be so called, at the top
of the print is in German: O Brigita bit got für uns —O,
Bridget, pray to God for us. The letters M. I. Chrs at the bottom
of the print have been construed as, Mother of Jesus Christ.
The lines of this print are of a dull brown color. The face and
hands are of flesh color, the gown, hat and scrip are dark grey;
the desk, the staff, letters, lion and crown, as well as the glory
or nimbus about the head, are yellow. The ground is green, and
the whole cut is surrounded with a border of shining lake or
mulberry color. This harsh p075 arrangement of the colors is a
proper illustration of the inferiority of the workmanship of the
colorist to that of the designer.
Other prints in European libraries have been attributed to
unknown engravers of Germany, who are supposed to have
practised their art between the years 1400 and 1450. One of
these prints, to which is attached a short prayer and the date of
1437, and which was discovered in a monastery in the Black
Forest near the border of Suabia,18 represents the martyrdom of
St. Sebastian. These prints are rare: of the St. Christopher only
three copies are known;19 of the St. Bridget and Annunciation
there is but one copy each. All of them were discovered in
German religious houses, in which places it seems that they
have been preserved ever since they were printed. They were
found in a part of Germany that is famous as the abode of early
engravers on wood, and as the birthplace of several great
German artists. Prints of a similar nature were subsequently
made in Germany in greater quantity than in any other part of
Europe. The legend of St. Bridget is in German; the costumes
of the archers in St. Sebastian are German. They are
trustworthy evidences in favor of the hypothesis that engraving
on wood was first practised in Germany.

This hypothesis has been disputed. It is opposed by several
contradictory theories, which may be stated in the following
words: (1) that engraving on wood was applied to the
manufacture of playing cards in France at the end of the
fourteenth century; (2) that it was derived from China; (3) that
it was invented in Italy; (4) that it was practised in the
Netherlands before it was known in Germany. As the theories
of French, Chinese and Italian origin have no early p076 prints
of images to offer, they need not be considered in this chapter.
The argument in favor of a very early practice of engraving in
the Netherlands is based on its prints of images. p077

The Flemish Indulgence Print. ♠

The illustration on the opposite page is the reduced fac-
simile of an old print once known as the Indulgence Print of
1410 , and then considered as of greater age than the print of
Saint Christopher. The inscription at the foot of the indulgence;
which is in old Dutch or Flemish, is to this effect:

[anc77]
“Whoever, regarding the sufferings of our Lord, shall truly repent of his sins, and
shall thrice repeat the Pater Noster and the Ave Maria , shall be entitled to seventeen
thousand years of indulgence, which have been granted to him by Pope Gregory, as
well as by two other popes and by forty bishops. [This has been done so that] the rich
as well as the poor may try to secure this indulgence.”

That this print was made in Flanders is apparent from the
language, as well as from the peculiar shape of the letter t at the
end of words. The perpendicular bar dropping from the top of
this t was so seldom used in Germany that it may be regarded
as a very old Flemish mannerism. That the print was engraved
in 1410 is extremely improbable. The Pope Gregory here
mentioned is undoubtedly Pope Gregory XII, who reigned from
1406 to 1415. It was once believed that the two other popes
mentioned in the indulgence were the rivals of Gregory, the
anti-popes Benedict XII and John XXII. It was supposed that this
print was published during this period,20 and for this reason, it
has sometimes been called the Indulgence Print of 1410 . p078
M. Wetter, a learned German critic, has pointed out the
absurdity of the belief that three popes at enmity with each
other should unite in the promulgation of this document.21 It is
now understood that the two other popes mentioned in the
indulgence are Pope Nicholas V, who reigned from 1447 to
1455, and Pope Calixtus III, who reigned from 1455 to 1458.
The publication of the indulgence is therefore placed between
the years 1455 and 1471. Consequently, the print is of no value
as an evidence of Flemish priority, for it was made more than
thirty years after the St. Christopher.
A much more satisfactory evidence of the great age of
Flemish engraving on wood is afforded by the Brussels Print ,
which was discovered in 1848 by an innkeeper, pasted down on
the inside of an old chest. It was bought by an architect of the
town of Mechlin, who sold it for five hundred francs to the
Royal Library of Brussels, where it is now preserved. This print

bears the date 1418, but the validity of the date has been
challenged. It was alleged that the numerals that form the date
had been repaired with a lead pencil in such a manner as to
provoke doubts of its genuineness; that the true date is 1468,
instead of 1418; that an alteration was made, by scratching out
the L from the middle of the numerals [thus, MCCCC(L)XVIII]
and by substituting a period—a fraud that puts the date
backward fifty years. The charge of fraud has been denied with
ability, and seemingly with justice. The print has passed the
ordeal of hostile criticism, and is now accepted as a genuine
print of 1418. It represents the Virgin and infant Saviour, when
surrounded by St. Barbara, St. Catharine, St. Veronica and St.
Margaret. The design is somewhat stiff and mechanical, but the
composition is not devoid of merit. The lines of the engraving
were purposely broken, for it was intended that the print should
be more fully developed by the bright colors p079 of the stencil
painter. The fac-simile is taken from Holtrop’s Monuments
typographiques . Holtrop says that the fac-simile is slightly
reduced in height. The size of the block, as he represents it, is
9 7⁄ 8 by 13 3⁄ 4 American inches. p080

The Brussels Print. ♠

The Flemish origin of the Brussels Print is established by an
image, in the Cabinet of Engravings at Berlin, now known as
the Berlin Print . It is of the same size as the Brussels Print ,
and is, apparently, the work of the same designer, for in these
prints a remarkable similarity of treatment in designing and

engraving may be noticed in the wings of the angels, in the
figure and position of the angel who crowns the Virgin, in the
crowns of St Catharine and the Virgin, in the flowing hair of the
three saints, and that of the Virgin, and in the collars on the
doves. This print represents the Virgin as carrying in her arms
the infant Saviour. It is described in the catalogue as an early
xylographic engraving, printed by friction about the middle of
the fifteenth century. It is without date or name of artist. The
language of the legend is Flemish. The Virgin holds in her right
arm the infant Jesus, and in her left hand an apple. The child
caresses the chin of his mother with one hand, while he drops a
rose from the other. The Virgin, enshrined in an aureole of
glory, encircled by four angels and four doves, placidly stands
upon a crescent. The legend in the four corners is in metre, and
is an exhortation to the reader to serve the Virgin, and imitate
her example.
Who is this queen who is thus exalted?
She is the consolation of the world.
What is her name? tell me, I pray!
Mary, blessed Mother and Virgin.
How did she attain this exaltation?
By love, humility and charity.
Who will be uplifted with her, on high?
Whoever knows her best in life.

Connoisseurs in prints disagree as to the age and merit of this
print. Passavant says that the Berlin Print , which he describes
as of fine execution, is undoubtedly of Dutch origin, but he
thinks it is the design of a German artist. He places its date in
the same period as that of the Brussels Print , which, according
to him, is 1468. Renouvier says that the outlines of the Berlin
Print are in the style of well-known Dutch or Flemish prints.
He hazards no conjecture as to p081 the exact date of its
publication, but intimates that it may properly be classified with
the older prints of the Netherlands.

The Berlin Print. ♠

Holtrop says that the language of the legend in the Berlin
print decides its origin; the design is of the p082 Netherlandish
school; the language is Flemish, and not Dutch. He further
says: “These two prints (of Berlin and Brussels) complement
each other; the print of Berlin shows their common origin; the

print of Brussels indicates their date. It may be said that they
were engraved in the Netherlands, probably in Flanders, and
perhaps in Bruges, at the beginning of the fifteenth century.”
The prints herein described are the earliest prints with dates,
but they are not, necessarily, the earliest of all. There are prints
known to collectors as the Crucifixion , the Last Judgment and
the St. Jerome , which are regarded by many bibliographers as
the work of unknown engravers at or about 1400. There is a
print of St. George which competent judges say was done in
the thirteenth century. None of the prints contain the name or
the place of the engravers, but it is plain that they were made in
the Southern Netherlands, as well as in Southern Germany. It
would be premature to assume that they were made nowhere
else; but it must be acknowledged that there are no image prints
on paper which can be ascribed to any engraver in France, Italy,
Spain, Holland or England, during the first fifty years of the
fifteenth century. [anc82] There is a plausible statement on
record, which will be reviewed on another page, that artistic
engravings on wood were made in Italy before this period. We
find, also, a more questionable statement, that engraving on
wood was practised in France before the year 1400—a
statement based entirely on a print in the public library of the
city of Lyons, with a printed date which has been represented as
that of the year 1384. The age of this print has been denied. It is
alleged, with every appearance of probability, that there is
mistake or fraud in the numerals, for the costumes of the
figures prove that the print should have been made in the
sixteenth century.
The question whether image prints were first made in the
Netherlands or in Suabia need not now be considered. It is
enough to say that, although the Brussels print bears the earliest
date, the manufacture of these image prints was more p083
common in Germany, not only in the first but in the latter half

of the fifteenth century. That these few accidentally discovered
prints represent the half, or even one-tenth, of the images then
published, is not at all probable. We have good reason for the
belief that they were as abundant in Southern Germany during
the year 1450 as cheap lithographs were in the United States
during the year 1830. That the greater part of these image prints
have been destroyed and forgotten may be explained by the
improved taste of the succeeding generation. The artistic
copper-plate prints which came in fashion soon after swept
away as rubbish the once admired image prints, just as the
chromos of this period have supplanted the painted lithographic
prints of 1830.
How were these images printed? Almost every author who
has written on printing has said that they were printed by
friction, with a tool known as the frotton, which has been
described as a small cushion of cloth stuffed with wool. It is
said that when the block had been inked, and the sheet of paper
had been laid on the block, the frotton was rubbed over the
back of the sheet until the ink was transferred to the paper. We
are also told that the paper was not dampened, but was used in
its dry state. The shining appearance on the back of the paper is
offered as evidence of friction. This explanation of the method
used by the printers of engraved blocks has been accepted, not
as a conjecture, but as the description of a known fact. I know
of no good authority for it. I know no author who professes to
have seen the process. I know no engraver who has taken
impressions with a cloth frotton. I doubt the feasibility of the
method. The reasons for this doubt will be apparent when this
conjectural method is contrasted with the methods used by
modern printers and engravers for taking proofs off of press.
The modern engraver on wood takes his proofs on thin India
paper. He uses a stuffed cushion to apply the ink to the cut. The
ink, which is sticky, serves to make thin paper adhere to the

block. He gets an impression by rubbing the p084 back of the
paper after it is laid on the block, with an ivory burnisher. If he
is careful, he can take with a burnisher a neater proof than he
could get from a press. But the only point of similarity between
the imaginary old process and the present process is in the
method of rubbing or friction. The materials are different: the
modern paper is thin and soft, the old was coarse and harsh;
modern ink is glutinous, medieval ink was watery; the
burnisher is hard, the frotton was very elastic; the burnisher will
give a shining appearance to the back, the soft frotton will not.
If the modern engraver should attempt to use coarse, thick, dry
paper, fluid ink, and a cloth frotton, he could not keep the sheet
in place on the block during the slow process of rubbing. No
care could prevent it from slipping when rubbed with an elastic
cushion. The least slip would produce a distorted impression.
The modern printer takes his proof on dampened paper with
a tool known as the proof-planer. This proof-planer is a small
thick block of wood, one side of which is perfectly flat and
covered with thick cloth. When the paper, which must be
dampened, has been laid on the inked type or engraving, the
printer places the planer carefully on the paper, holding it
firmly with his left hand; with a mallet, held in his right hand,
he strikes a strong hard blow on the planer. He then lifts his
planer carefully and places it over the nearest unprinted surface
and repeats the blow. In like manner he repeats the blow until
every part of the type surface has been printed. Rude as this
method may seem, a skillful workman can obtain a fair print
with the planer. Although the wet paper clings to the type, and
the ink is sticky, great care is needed to prevent the slipping of
the sheet, and the doubling of the impression. The back of a
thick sheet printed in this manner often shows a shining
appearance in the places where the blow was resisted by the
face of the type or by the engraved lines.

It will be seen that the printer’s method of taking proof
differs in all its details from the supposititious method of the
p085 early engravers. We have soft, damp paper, sticky ink, and
a sudden flat pressure against a hard surface shielded with
cloth, in opposition to fluid ink, dry paper, rubbing pressure and
an elastic printing tool.
As we can find no positive knowledge of the method of
printing which was adopted by the early printers of engravings
on wood, it is somewhat hazardous to offer conjectures in place
of facts. It is begging the question to assume that they were not
printed by a press. The presswork of early prints is coarse and
harsh, and could have been done with simple mechanism, with
rude applications of the screw or of the lever, that could have
been devised by any intelligent workman. It is more reasonable
to assume that the early prints were made by a press, or with
some practicable tool like a proof-planer, rather than with the
impracticable frotton. One cannot resist the suspicion that the
chronicler of early block printing who first described the frotton
attempted to describe what he did not thoroughly understand—
that he mistook the engraver’s inking cushion for the tool by
which he got the impression.
It should be noticed that all these old prints are of a religious
character. Portraits of remarkable men or women, landscapes,
representations of cities or buildings, caricatures, illustrations
of history or mythology—none of these are to be found in any
collection of the earliest prints. The early engravers were
completely under the domination of religious ideas. Their prints
seem to have been made with the permission, and possibly
under the direction, of proper clerical authority. The designs are
of much greater merit than any that could have been created by
amateurs in the art of engraving on wood. They were,
undoubtedly, copied from the illuminated books of piety which
were then to be found in all large monasteries. Ecclesiastics of

this period were careful of their books and jealous of their
privileges, and not disposed to allow either to become cheap or
common, but they must have favored an art that multiplied the
images of p086 patron saints. It was an age of great disbelief,
and the image prints were of service as reminders of religious
duty.
There is no evidence that these prints were made by the
monks themselves. There is a statement current in German
books of bibliography that one Luger, a Franciscan monk in
Nordlingen, engraved on wood at the end of the fourteenth
century. But this statement needs verification. It is not at all
certain that the word which is here translated engraver on wood
was written with clear intention to convey this meaning. The
earliest typographers were not monks, nor were they favored
with the patronage of the church.22 It is not probable that any
monk who had been educated for the work of a copyist or an
illuminator, would forsake his profession for the practice of
engraving on wood or printing. Prints, as then made, were
coarse, mechanical copies of meritorious originals. The artistic
scribe rightfully felt that engraving was beneath him. He must
have looked on the people who bought image prints with the
same pitying scorn that a true artist feels for the uneducated
taste of those who now buy glaring lithographs of sacred
personages, and he must have felt as little inducement to
engage in their manufacture.
And yet the multitude received them gladly. Wealthy laymen
who could afford to buy gorgeous missals, and priests who
daily saw and handled manuscript works of art, might put the
prints aside as rubbish; but poor men and women, whose work-
day lives were unceasing rounds of poverty and drudgery,
unrelieved by art, ideality or sentiment, must have hailed with
gladness the images in their own houses which shadowed ever
so dimly the glories of the church and the rewards of the

righteous. The putting-up of the image print on the wall of the
hut or the cabin was the first step toward p087 bringing one of
the attractions of the Catholic church within the domestic
circle. It was the erection of a private shrine, an act of rivalry,
pitiable enough in its beginning, but of great importance in its
consequences. For it was the initiation of the right of private
judgment, and of the independence of thought which, in the
next century, made itself felt in the formidable dissent known in
all Protestant countries as the Great Reformation.
Our knowledge of the origin of engraving on wood has not
been materially increased by the recent discovery of the Berlin
and Brussels Prints . We see that wood-cuts of merit were made
during the first quarter of the fifteenth century, but we see also
that they could not have been the first productions of a recently
discovered or newly revived art. They present indications of a
skill in engraving which could have been acquired only through
experience. One has but to compare them with wood-cuts made
by amateurs in typographic printing in Italy, Germany and
Holland between the years 1460 and 1500, to perceive that the
manufacturers of the image prints were much more skillful as
engravers. If there were no other evidences, we could
confidently assume that this skill could have been acquired only
by practice on ruder and earlier engravings. Of this preliminary
practice-work we find clear traces in the stenciled and printed
playing cards which were popular in many parts of Europe
before the introduction of images.

V

Playing Cards not made by the Frotton . . . Their Manufacture an Industry of
Importance . . . Decree of the Senate of Venice prohibiting the Importation of
Cards . . . Early Notices of Card-Making in Germany . . . Probable Method of
Manufacture . . . Illustrations of a Playing Card of the Fifteenth Century . . . Jost
Amman’s Illustrations of a Print Colorer and an Engraver on Wood . . . Playing
Cards made from Engraved Blocks . . . Early Notices of Card Playing in France
. . . Cards Prohibited to the People in France and Spain . . . Introduced in Italy in
1379 . . . Not Invented in Germany . . . An Oriental Game . . . Illustrations of
Chinese Cards . . . Originated in Hindostan . . . Transmitted to Europe through the
Saracens . . . Popularity of Cards in Europe . . . Cards Denounced by the Clergy
. . . New Forms and New Games of Cards, with Illustrations . . . Unsuccessful
Attempts to make Cards a Means of Instruction . . . Cards not an Unmixed Evil . . .
Induced Respect for Letters and Education . . . Cards probably made before
Images . . . Made by Block-Printing . . . Most largely made by this process in
Germany.

T H E hypothesis, for it is nothing more, that all the early prints
were produced by the frotton does not satisfactorily explain the
large production of merchantable printed matter during the first
half of the fifteenth century. Friction would have served then, as
it does now, for trial proofs or experiments, but it was a method
altogether too slow and uncertain to meet the requirements of
an extended business. The playing cards and prints so common
during this period must have been made by a quicker method.

That there was an established international trade in playing
cards and in other kinds of printed work, as early as the year
1441, may be inferred from the following decree of the senate
of Venice: p089
1441, Oct 11. Whereas, the art and mystery of making cards and printed figures,
which is in use at Venice, has fallen to decay, and this in consequence of the great
quantity of printed playing cards and colored figures which are made out of Venice,
to which evil it is necessary to apply some remedy, in order that the said artists, who
are a great many in family, may find encouragement rather than foreigners: Let it be
ordained and established, according to the petition that the said masters have
supplicated, that from this time in future, no work of the said art that is printed or
painted on cloth or paper-that is to say, altar-pieces, or images, or playing cards, or
any other thing that may be made by the said art, either by painting or by printing-
shall be allowed to be brought or imported into this city, under pain of forfeiting the
work so imported, and thirty livres and twelve soldi, of which fine one-third shall go
to the state, one-third to Giustizieri Vecchi, to whom this affair is committed, and
one-third to the accuser. With this condition, however, that the artists who make the
said works in this city shall not expose the said works for sale in any other place but
their own shops, under the penalty aforesaid, except on the day of Wednesday at S.
Paolo, and on Saturday at S. Marco.23

The engraved images here noticed were probably prints of
saints or sacred personages like those of which engraved
illustrations have been given on previous pages. The altar-
pieces were prints upon cotton or linen cloth, of a similar
character, but of much larger size.24
Playing cards, which are twice mentioned in the decree, seem
to have been considered as of equal importance with images
and altar-pieces. The specification of three distinct kinds of
printed work, coupled as it is with the allusion to “any other
thing that may be made by the said art,” is an intimation that
the manufacturers, “who were a great many p090 in family,”
were even then applying the art of printing and colored
stenciling to many other purposes.
The decree says that the art had fallen to decay. When it was
in its most prosperous condition in Venice cannot be
ascertained from the record, nor from any other source. The
author25 who found this document says that he had fragments

of coarse engravings on wood which represented some parts of
the city of Venice as they appeared before the year 1400. He
thinks these rude engravings must have been cut in the latter
part of the fourteenth century. That they could have been made
at this time is not improbable, but the direct evidence is
wanting. There are, however, abundant reasons for the belief
that engravings on wood were made in Venice, not
experimentally, but in the way of business, many years before
the decree of 1441. And they must have been made elsewhere.
The printers of playing cards and colored figures must have
been many in family beyond as well as in Venice. If the foreign
printers had not been formidable competitors, there would have
been no request for the prohibitory decree.
Nothing is said in the decree about the nationality of the
foreign competitors, but we may get this knowledge from
another source. An authentic record of the town of Ulm in
Germany contains a brief entry which tells us that playing cards
in barrels were sent from that city to Sicily and Italy, to be
bartered for delicacies and general merchandise.26 p091
The same book contains a defense of the game of playing
cards under the date of 1397. Another old German record, the
Burgher Book of Augsburg for the year 1418, specifically
notices card-makers. The Tax Book of Nuremberg, for the years
1433 and 1435, names Eliza, a card-maker. The same book, for
the year 1438, mentions Margaret, the card-painter. The words
kartenmacherin , card-maker, and kartenmalerin , card-painter,
which are found in these books, do not clearly specify the
process. It has been suggested that these cards could have been
drawn and painted by means of stencil plates.
The word formschneider , form-cutter, the word now used in
Germany as the equivalent of engraver on wood, appears for
the first time in the year 1449, in the books of the city of
Nuremberg. The same records mention one Wilhelm Kegler,

briftrucker , or card-printer, under the date of 1420. They also
mention one Hans Formansneider , in the year 1397, but
Formansneider should not be construed as engraver on wood. It
should be read Hans Forman, schneider or tailor. In this, as in
some other cases, it will be seen that the facility of the German
language for making new words by the compounding of old
ones, is attended with peculiar disadvantages. The
manufactured words are susceptible of different meanings.
These notices of card-making are not enough to prove that
the process employed was that of xylography. They prove only
that card-making was an industry of note in the towns of Ulm,
Augsburg and Nuremberg. But when these notices of early
card-making are considered in connection with early German
prints, like the St. Christopher of 1423, which were discovered
in the vicinity of these towns, there is no room for doubt. If
prints of saints were made by engraving on wood, cards should
have been made by the same art. The connection of cards and
image prints in the decree of the Senate of Venice is evidence
that they were made by the same persons and by the same
process.
It may seem strange that the little town of Ulm, in the heart
of Germany, should establish by a long sea route a trade p092 in
playing cards with cities on the Mediterranean and the Adriatic.
It is but one of many evidences of the growing spirit of
commercial enterprise which pervaded all the cities of
Germany. It is not more strange than the fact that, in 1505,
merchants of Augsburg, a city at a great distance from
navigable waters, joined with the Portuguese in an extensive
traffic with the eastern coast of Africa.
Playing cards may have been made at as early dates in other
countries besides Germany and Italy. We shall soon see that
they were in common use in many parts of Europe at the
beginning of the fifteenth century, but we have no certain

knowledge that they were made from engraved blocks in other
places. Our knowledge of the fact that they were printed in Italy
and Germany is based entirely on occasional notices in old
manuscript records. We have indications that they were printed,
but we lack the proof. There are no cards in existence which
can be offered, with any degree of confidence, as specimens of
the block-printing of 1440. The xylographic cards of which fac-
similes are most common in books which treat of pastimes, are
of the sixteenth century; the copper-plate cards described and
illustrated by Weigel and Breitkopf were made either during the
latter half of the fifteenth or in the sixteenth century.
The engraving on the following page is a fac-simile of one of
a set of forty-eight playing cards now preserved in the British
Museum. The entire set, printed on six separate sheets of paper,
eight cards to each sheet, was found in that great hiding-place
of discarded sheets, the inner lining of a book cover, for which,
to adopt the bookbinder’s phrase, it served as a stiffener. The
sheets may have been rejected for imperfections, and put in the
book cover because they were unsalable. The book in which
they were found was printed and bound by some unknown or
undescribed printer before the year 1500.27 If rudeness of
engraving could be considered p093 as sufficient proof of
superior antiquity, this card should be rated as one of the oldest
pieces of engraving on wood. The cutting of this block could
have been done by any carver on wood, or even by a carpenter.
But the quality of the engraving is not a proper criterion of the
condition of the art of engraving on wood during the period in
which it was made. It is obviously a cheap card, made for the
uses of people who could pay but a small price. There may
have been other reasons for the rudeness of the work. The stiff
and conventional manner of drawing the figures may have been
as popular then as a similar method of designing playing cards
is at this day.

Dull red and dark green were
the only colors used in illum­i­nat­‐
ing this set of cards. They were
laid on with brush and stencil.
The stencil is one of the oldest
forms of labor-saving
contrivance for abridging the
labor of writing or drawing. It
was used, as has been stated, in
the sixth century by a Roman
emperor who could not write; it
was used for the same purpose
by Theodoric, king of the
Ostrogoths, and by the emperor
A Playing Card of the Fifteenth ♠
Charlemagne. It is used to this Century.
[From Singer.]
day by merchants who mark
boxes, in preference to writing, printing, branding, or painting.
It has advantages of cheapness and simplicity that commend it
to all manufacturers. It is even used by publishers of books for
tinting maps, fashion plates, and illuminated pamphlet covers.
Jost Amman, in his Book of Trades, has presented us a
representation of the print stenciler, as he practised his work
p094 in 1564. The method here shown is, probably, the method
in general use in 1440, for the coloring of playing cards and
image prints. We see the bowls that contain different colors,
with their proper brushes, on top of the chest. The colorer is
sweeping the brush over the perforated metal plate, and filling
up the outlines of the print. The neat pile of sheets before him
and near his right hand shows that he is working with precision
and with system. Stencil painting was work of care and
neatness, but it was so simple that we can clearly understand
that it could have been done by women in Nuremberg as
effectively as it is done now.28

The Print Colorer. ♠
[From Jost Amman.]

The illustration of the engraver on wood which appears in
the same Book of Trades puts before us a man in a richer dress,
plainly a workman of higher grade than the stencil painter. He
seems to be tracing outlines on the block. The technical
accessories about this engraver are the same as those in use at
this day—the graver, the whetstone, and, possibly, a water
globe lens in the corner near the window casement.29 p095

Playing cards and engraving on wood bear to each other a
curious relation. The introduction of the cards in Europe was
soon followed by the revival, or as Bibliophile Jacob of Paris
characterizes it, by the invention, of engraving on wood.
Whatever differences of opinion may exist as to whether the art
was revived or invented, it is certain that playing cards were the
means by which early printing was made popular. Cards were
the only kind of printed work which promised to repay the
labor of engraving. People who could neither read nor write,
and who had no desire to be taught either accomplishment,
derived great pleasure from them. There was no other kind of
printed matter, not even the image prints, which found so many
buyers in every condition of society. The fixing of the earliest
practice as a regular business of engraving on wood in Europe
depends, in some degree, on the fixing of the date of the first
introduction of playing cards. The determination of this date
has been made a national question, and the theme of books
containing much curious information.

The Engraver on Wood. ♠
[From Jost Amman.]

Ambrose Firmin Didot30 quotes a scrap of poetry from a
French romance of 1328, which alludes to the folly of games of
dice, checkers and cards. Other French writers maintain that
playing cards were in use in France as early as 1350. p096
Bullet says that playing cards were used in France in the year
1376. But the testimony in confirmation of these dates is
ambiguous and insufficient. The first unequivocal notice of
playing cards in France is to be found in an account book for

the year 1392, kept by one Charles Poupart, treasurer to Charles
VI. [anc96] In this book is an entry to this effect: “Paid to
Jacquemin Gringonneur, painter, for three packs of cards,
gilded, colored, and ornamented with various designs, for the
amusement of our lord the king, 56 sols of Paris.” The mind of
Charles VI had been seriously affected by sunstroke, and these
cards were provided for his lucid intervals during which he
suffered from melancholy. We are not told how these cards
were made—whether they were first drawn by hand, or whether
they were printed from cut blocks before they were painted.
The price paid was not small: fifty-six sols of Paris in 1393
would be equivalent to one hundred and fifty francs in 1874. In
1454, a pack of cards purchased for the Dauphin of France cost
but five sous of Tours, the equivalent of twelve or thirteen
francs of modern French money.31 The difference in these
prices is some indication of a cheapened manufacture.
The earliest and most convincing evidence of the popularity
of playing cards in Paris is contained in an order of the provost
of that city, under the date of 1397, in which order he forbids
working people from indulging in games of tennis, bowls, dice,
cards, or nine-pins on working days. That the game was then
comparatively new is inferred from the omission of playing
cards in an ordinance of the city of Paris, for the year 1369, in
which other popular games were minutely specified.
The Cabinet of Prints attached to the National Library at
Paris contains seventeen cards which are supposed to be the
relics of the three packs made for Charles VI by Gringonneur;
but these cards were, without doubt, drawn by hand. This
cabinet has no printed cards which can be attributed to the p097
fourteenth century. Its oldest relics of this kind are eighteen
printed cards which may have been made in France during the
reign of Charles VII, or between the years 1442 and 1461.32

Playing cards seem to have been popular in Spain before
they were known in France. They were supposed to be so
demoralizing to the people, that John I, king of Castile, in the
year 1387, thought it necessary, to prohibit them entirely. To
have acquired this popularity, the cards should have been made
by some process as economical as that of printing. We have,
however, no knowledge that the cards were printed. They could
have been made by stencils. Chatto says that the relics of
playing cards which he thought were the oldest were made
exclusively with stencils.
Cards were known in Italy as early as 1379. An old
manuscript history of the town of Viterbo, which states this
fact, says that “In this year, a year of great distress [occasioned
by the war between the anti-pope Clement VII and the pope
Urban VI ], was brought into Viterbo, the game of cards, which
came from the land of the Saracens, and by them is called
Naib.” p098
Many German authors claim that playing cards were in
common use throughout Germany at a much earlier period.
Breitkopf quotes the following passage from a book called the
Golden Mirror , said to have been written about the middle of
the fifteenth century by a Dominican friar of the name of
Ingold: “The game is right deceitful, and, as I have read, was
first brought in Germany in the year 1300.”33 Another writer
quotes an old chronicle, that describes the emperor Rudolph as
amusing himself with cards in the old town of Augsburg at
some undefined time before his death in 1291. It cannot be
proved that the cards here mentioned were true playing cards. It
is more probable that the amusement noticed was the game of
king and queen, which was forbidden to the clergy by the synod
of Worcester in 1240, and which has sometimes been
erroneously understood as a game of cards. The notices of card-
makers and card-printers in the town books of Nuremberg and

Augsburg should be regarded as the earliest records of the use
of playing cards in Germany.34

Chinese Playing Cards. ♠
[From Breitkopf.]

A review of the dates proves that playing cards were not
popular in any part of Europe before the last quarter of the
fifteenth [anc98] century. The Italian record which attributes their
derivation to the land of the Saracens is fully corroborated by

other testimony of authority. Students of oriental literature
assure us that the Saracens were taught the uses of playing
cards by the inhabitants of Hindostan, in which country they
were invented.35 Playing cards were made in China from
printed blocks long before the game was known in Europe. p099
The introduction of this oriental pastime in civilized Europe has
been attributed to the Moors of Spain, to eastern Jews who
traded on the shores of the Mediterranean, to Gypsies who
made their appearance in Germany at the beginning p100 of the
fifteenth century. Whether they were introduced by Moor,
Christian, Jew or Gypsy is of minor importance. It concerns us
more to know how they were received. We have abundant
evidence that the cards supplied a universal want, and that they
soon became as popular with the poor and ignorant as they had
been with the rich and noble. While the Duke of Milan found
amusement, as he did in 1415, with a suite of cards elaborately
painted by artists of renown on plates of ivory, at a cost of
fifteen hundred crowns, and while Flemish nobles were playing
at games of hazard with cards engraved on silver plates, the
working people of France and Spain, soldiers in Italy, and
traveling mechanics in Germany were diverting themselves in
wine-shops and public gardens, in huts and by the road-side,
with similar games, played with greasy cards which had been
printed or stenciled on coarse paper. The cards were adapted to
all tastes, and there was a fascination in them which made men
neglectful of duty.
The evil results of this infatuation were soon perceived.
Playing cards were denounced not only by kings and the
provosts of cities, but by the more zealous and conscientious
priests of the church. At the synod of Langres held in 1404, the
fathers of the church forbid all games of playing cards to the
clergy. On the fifth day of May, in the year 1423, St. Bernard of
Sienna preached against playing cards from the steps of the

Church of St. Peter, with such effect, that his hearers ran to
their houses, and brought therefrom all the games of hazard that
they owned—cards, dice and checkers—and burnt them in the
public square. One card-maker, who felt that his business had
been ruined by the sermon, went in tears to the saint, and said,
“Father, I am a card maker, and know no other trade. You have
forbidden me to make cards and have consequently condemned
me to die from starvation.” Whereupon the ready priest said, “If
you know how to paint, paint this image”—showing him the
figure of Christ, with the monogram I. H. S. in the centre of a
halo of glory. The card-maker, we are told, followed the p101
judicious advice. The proper sequel is not wanting: virtue had
proper reward; the converted image-maker soon became rich.
In 1452, the monk John Capistan preached for three hours in
Nuremberg with a similar result. The conscience-stricken
people brought into the market-place “76 jousting sledges,
3,640 backgammon boards, 40,000 dice, and cards
innumerable,” and burnt them in the market-place.
The attacks of the clergy had no permanent effect. At the end
of the fifteenth century, playing cards were more popular than
ever. Other games were invented, and new forms of cards of
quainter or of more graceful patterns were produced.
Sometimes they were engraved on copper plates, and were
painted with all the delicacy of fine miniatures. Despairing of
success in their attempts to entirely abolish the practice,
moralists undertook to divert cards from their first purpose, and
to make them a means of instruction as well as of amusement.
Of this character is an old pack of fifty cards engraved on
copper plates, and supposed to be the work of Finiguerra,
which has been preserved in an Italian library. One of the cards
bears the printed date, 1485. The pack is divided in five suites:
the first suite contains cards that represent, by figures and
words in the Venetian dialect, the various conditions of men

from the pope to the beggar; the second suite contains the
names and figures of the nine muses, with Apollo added to
make the complement; the third illustrates branches of polite
learning from grammar to theology; the fourth exhibits cardinal
virtues, like justice and prudence; the fifth, displays the
heavenly bodies, the Moon, Saturn, the stars, Chaos and the
First Cause. This game, obviously made up for the benefit of
young collegians, was, probably, no more popular with them
than the scientific story books of 1820–30 were with the boys
of that period. The combination of abstruse sciences with a
frivolous amusement may rightfully be considered a problem of
despair.
The illustration on the next leaf is the reduced fac-simile of a
suite of twenty-two playing cards, intended, apparently, p102 to
convey solemn religious truths in the form of a game of life and
death. We do not know how the game was played: we have to
accept the figures upon the cards as their own explanation and
commentary. In the figures of Jupiter and of the Devil, we see
the powers which shape the destinies of men. The Wheel of
Fortune is emblematic of the fate which assigns to one man the
condition of a Hermit, and to another that of an Emperor. The
virtues of Temperance, Justice and Strength which man opposes
to Fate, the frivolity of the Fool, the happiness of the Lover (if
he can be happy who is cajoled by two women), and the pride
of the Empress, are all dominated by the central card bearing an
image of the skeleton Death—Death which precedes the Last
Judgment and opens to the righteous the House of God. In these
cards we have a pictorial representation of scenes from one of
the curious spectacle plays of the middle ages, which were
often enacted in the open air to the accompaniments of dance
and music. The union of fearful mysteries with ridiculous
accessories, and the ghastly suggestion of the fate of all men, as
shown in the card of Death the reaper—these were the features

which gave point and character to the series of strange cartoons
popular for many centuries in all parts of civilized Europe
under the title of the Dance of Death .
This was but one of the many innovations proposed as
substitutes for the older oriental games. In the latter part of the
fifteenth century, playing cards were made in Italy with figures
which represented the four great monarchies of the ancient
world, with which a childish game was played in imitation of
war and conquest. Suitable marks on the cards designated the
four different classes of society; hearts were the symbol of the
clergy; spades (from the Italian spada , a sword) were for the
nobility; clubs stood for the peasantry; and diamonds
represented the citizens or burghers.

Reduced Fac-Simile of French Copper-plate Playing Cards of the Sixteenth Century. ♠
[From Breitkopf.]
see larger

Thomas Murner, a professor of philosophy at Cracow in
1507, undertook to make use of playing cards for teaching high
scholastic science. He published a book which he called p104
Logical Playing Cards, or Logic Realized and Made
Comprehensible through Pleasant Exercises with Pictures . The
cards were filled with mysterious symbols intended as keys to
the entire art of reasoning. The difficult science was adapted to
the meanest capacity, by puerile methods which subsequently
provoked the contempt of Erasmus. Each card had some
pedantic name like Proposition, Predicate or Syllogism. Could
there be a more unattractive game?
Eminent German artists—among them Martin Schongauer
and the Master of 1466—undertook to supplant the stiff and
barbarous figures that had been used on playing cards, with
designs of merit. They drew and engraved new face figures of
most extraordinary character, in which satirical and poetic
fancies were strangely blended. The amorousness of the monks
and the coquetry of the ladies, the quarrels of termagants
among the peasantry, the revenge of hares who are roasting
their enemy man and his friend the dog, are the subjects of
some cards. On other German cards of this period are
represented, in startling contrast, the sweet and saintly faces of
pure women, heroic men riding in triumph, and filthy sows
with their litters.
Jost Amman36 designed, and perhaps engraved, a full pack of
cards which was published in book form with explanatory
verses in Latin and German. Rejecting the established forms of
hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds for the designation of the
suites, he substituted books, printers’ inking balls, wine pots
and drinking cups. The moral that he endeavored to inculcate
was the advantages of industry and learning over idleness and

drunkenness. But the intended moral is not as clear as it should
be. Some of the figures are exceedingly gross, although they
are drawn with admirable skill and spirit.

French Card of the Fifteenth Century. German Card of the Sixteenth Century.
[From Lacroix.] [From Lacroix.]

German Card of the Sixteenth Century. German Card of the Fifteenth Century. ♠
[From Lacroix.] [From Breitkopf.]

These innovations had but a transient popularity. The people
played cards, not for instruction in art, science or p106 morality,
but for amusement, and they would not suffer the games to be
diverted from their first purpose of the pleasure of hazard. The
old games and the old figures were deeply rooted in their
memories and habits. They would have no changes, and there
have been none of any importance. The hard conventional
figures of king, queen and jack which are to be found on the
oldest playing cards have been repeated almost without
alteration in the popular cards of every succeeding century. We
can readily understand the reasons why the scholastic and
scientific games were rejected, but it would be difficult to

account for the preference always manifested for coarse
outlines and clumsy drawing in the figures.
Although playing cards led to gambling, and to forms of
dissipation which required restraint,37 their general use was not
an unmixed evil. To the common people, they were a means of
education; a circuitous and a dangerous means, no doubt, but
not the less effectual. The medieval churl whose ignorance was
so dense that he failed to see the advantages of education, and
who would have refused to learn his letters by any persuasion,
did perceive that there was amusement in playing cards, and did
take the trouble to learn the games. With him, as with little
children, the course of instruction began with bright-colored
little pictures and the explanation of hidden meanings in
absurd-looking little spots or symbols. In the playing of the
game, his dull mind was trained to a new and a freer exercise of
his reasoning faculties, and he must have been inspired with
more of respect for the dimly seen utility of painted or printed
symbols. To the multitude of early card players, cards were of
no other and no greater benefit as a means of mental discipline.
To men of thought and purpose, they taught a more impressive
lesson of the value of paper and letters. They induced inquiries
that led p107 to important resolves. If a few arbitrarily arranged
signs on bits of paper could greatly amuse a party of friends
during a long evening, would not the letters of the alphabet as
they were combined in books, furnish a still greater and an
unfailing source of amusement?
The meagre notices of card-makers and card-painters in old
town-books of Germany and in the decree of Venice do not tell
us whether cards were made before or after image prints. Those
who have written most learnedly on this subject,38 tell us that
the cards were made before the images; that at first they were
drawn and painted by hand; that they were afterward colored by
stencils; that when this method was found too slow, blocks

were engraved and printed; and that the image prints were
subsequently introduced for the purpose of counteracting the
evil influences of cards. These propositions are ingenious, but it
must be confessed that we have no certain knowledge that the
improvement was made in this order. This theory of gradual
development is based on conjecture, and its best support is
derived from a consideration of the fact that cards were in
common use before we have any indications of the existence of
image prints. That the cards should have been made by
engraving before the images seems reasonable when we
consider that the workmanship of the cards was of a much ruder
nature. The experimenting amateur who knew that he was
unable to cut a block like that of the St. Christopher , would
readily undertake to engrave the spots and face figures of the
earlier cards.
Breitkopf, an expert type-founder and a writer of authority,
stands almost alone in his opinion that playing cards were p108
made after the image prints. He says that the engravers who
made cards also made images, and he adds the curious fact that
in some places cards and images were called by the same
name.39
The curt and careless manner in which the business of card-
making is mentioned in the old records is an indication that the
process used was not novel. We do not find in the writings of
any author of the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries a statement
that the earliest playing cards were made by a new art. That
they were made by block-printing at the beginning of the
fifteenth century in Italy and Germany seems clearly
established. That they were made at a corresponding period in
Spain and France, where cards were as common, cannot be
proved. It is probable that the Germans derived their knowledge
of cards from Italy, but the evidences of an early manufacture
by printing are decidedly in favor of southern Germany, a

district in which the most famous image prints have been
found, and which, at a later period, was the birthplace of many
eminent engravers on wood.

VI

Antiquity of Printing among the Chinese . . . Statement of Du Halde . . . Its
Perversion . . . First Chinese Method, the Gouging of Letters . . . Didot’s
Hypothesis . . . Second Method, of Xylography . . . Third Method, a Combination
of Xylography and Typography . . . A Peculiarly Chinese Invention . . . Method
now used . . . Its Advantages over Types . . . Chinese Paper . . . Performance of
Pressmen . . . Curious Method of Binding . . . Expense of Engraving no hindrance
to Chinese Printing . . . The Xylographic Method necessary . . . Chinese Practice
in Typography . . . Cheapness of Chinese Books . . . Similarity between the
Chinese and the European Methods of Block-Printing . . . The Hypothesis of its
Transmission to Europe through Marco Polo, or other Venetian Travelers.

M A N Y eminent authors are of the opinion that we are
indebted to China not only for playing cards, but for the means
of making them. They tell us that playing cards could not have
been popular, as they were at the beginning of the fifteenth
century, if they had not been made by a cheaper process than
drawing by hand. The inference attempted is that block-printing
and playing cards were brought to Europe together. The reasons
presented in support of this opinion are far from conclusive, but
they are based on many curious facts which deserve
consideration.
The Chinese claims for priority in the practice of block
printing have been disallowed by some critics, chiefly because

they have been presented in the form of perverted translations.
That oriental people practised printing before this art was
applied to any useful purpose in Europe is admitted by all who
have studied their history. Du Halde, a learned Jesuit father,
who traveled in China during the earlier part of the p110
eighteenth century, was the first author who furnished
Europeans with a description of Chinese printing. He quotes the
following extract from a Chinese book, supposed to have been
written in the reign of the emperor Wu-Wong, who was living
1120 B. C. “As the stone me (Chinese for blacking), which is
used to blacken the engraved characters, can never become
white, so a heart blackened by vices will always retain its
blackness.”40 This is an allusion to some primitive method of
blackening incised characters, for the purpose of making them
more legible. It is a method which is still observed in the
inscriptions on memorial stones in churches and graveyards.
But it is an allusion to engraving and blackening only. There is
no mention of printing ink, and no suggestion of printing. Du
Halde quoted it only to show the antiquity of engraving, yet it
has been used by many authors as a warrant for the assertion
that printing was practised in China eleven hundred years
before the Christian era. If we could accept this statement, we
should have to believe that printing was invented in China but a
few years after the siege of Troy, before Rome was founded,
before Homer wrote and Solomon reigned. Du Halde’s words
do not warrant this statement. He says, with due caution, “In
printing, it seemeth that China ought to have the precedence of
other nations, for, according to their books, the Chinese have
made use of this art for sixteen hundred years,” or since the first
century.
The practice of blackening characters was not printing, but it
may have led to its development. Du Halde says that the
Chinese printed not only on wood blocks, but on tables of

“stone of a proper and particular kind.” The writing or design to
be printed, while it was still wet with ink, was transferred by
pressure from the paper upon which it was written to the
smooth surface of a slab of stone. When the p111 black lines of
the writing or design were firmly set on the stone, the paper
was peeled off. The black transferred lines were then cut out, or
cut below the surface, as they are now done in the copper-plate
process. The surface was inked, paper was laid on the stone,
and an impression was taken. The result was, the appearance on
the paper of the writing or design in white on a field of solid
black. This method of cutting out the lines, so that they should
appear white in the printed impression, is the simplest form of
engraving. It is like that of the boy who cuts his name in the
bark of a tree. He finds it easier to gouge out the letters than it
is to raise them in high relief. Reasoning from probability, we
should say that it should have been the earliest of the methods.
Didot believes that it was known to the old Romans.41 Du
Halde says that this method of printing on stone was used
chiefly for “epitaphs, pictures, trees, mountains and such like
things.” He does not fix the date of its invention, but it was
probably the earlier method. Didot says that he had in his p112
library the portraits of four Chinese emperors of a dynasty
which began A. D. 618, and ended during the ninth century, and
also some fac-similes of the imperial writings, which were
made by the same process.42
Sir John Francis Davis, for many years British Minister to
China, and author of two valuable books on that country, places
the invention of block-printing in China in the tenth century of
the Christian era. He attributes the discovery of the art to
Foong-Taou, the Chinese minister of state, who had been
greatly hindered in the discharge of his duties by his inability to
procure exact copies of his writings. After many trials and
failures, he dampened a written sheet of paper, and pressed it on

a smooth surface of wood until he had produced a fair transfer.
He then cut away every part of the surface that did not show the
transferred lines, and thus produced a block in relief. The lines
in relief were next brushed with ink; a sheet of paper was laid
on the block, and impression was applied. The result was, a true
fac-simile of his writing, and the birth of block-printing.
There was another Chinese method, which, paradoxical as it
may seem, was a combination of xylography and typography. It
was invented A. D. 1041, by an ingenious Chinese blacksmith,
named Pi-Ching, whose process is thus described by Davis. The
inventor first made a thick paste of porcelain clay, and moulded
or cut it in little oblong cubes of proper size. On these cubes he
carved the Chinese characters that were most frequently used,
thereby making movable types. The next process was to bake
them in an oven until they were hardened. But the types so
made were irregular as to height and as to body. In printers’
phrase, they would not stand together: some would be larger
than the standard, others would be too high to paper, and all
would be crooked. This difficulty could be remedied only by
fixing the types firmly on a surface or bed-plate of unequal
elevation. This surface was formed by pouring a melted mixture
of wax, lime and p113 resin on a plate of iron. Pi-Ching then
took a stout frame of the size of the page he proposed to print,
filled with iron wires in narrow parallels, and placed it on the
prepared bed-plate. The types of clay were next forced between
the iron wires on the mixture, and pressed close together. Then
the plate was put on a furnace and heated until the composition
became soft. A planer was put upon the face of the types, to
force them down in the composition until they were firmly
secured at a uniform height. So treated, the composed types
were made as solid as a xylographic block or a stereotype plate.
The form was then ready for printing. The method of printing
was like that subsequently used for printing blocks engraved on

wood, a method that will be described hereafter. When the form
had been printed, heat was again applied; the types were
withdrawn from the composition, cleaned of ink and adhering
composition by the aid of a brush, and put back into a case for
future use. Signs and unusual characters not in constant use
were wrapped up in paper.
There is nothing incredible in this curious story: on the
contrary, it bears internal evidences of its probability. The
selection, for printing purposes, of so unpromising a material as
clay, the patient labor given to each character before it reached
the condition of a type, the sagacity that foresaw and evaded
the difficulty of irregular bodies and heights by the use of iron
parallels, and a yielding bed-plate—all these are characteristic
of the eccentricities of Chinese invention. The process was
ingenious, but it was not entirely practical. It depended for its
success more on the zeal and ability of Pi-Ching than it did on
its own merits. When Pi-Ching died, his process died with him.
His friends preserved his types as mementos of his ability, but
none of them were able to use his method with success.
The present Chinese method is, practically, the method
originally used by Foong-Taou. For the purpose of block-
printing, Chinese printers select the wood of the pear-tree,
which has close fibres that yield readily and sharply to the p114
touch of the graver. Contrary to western usage, the blocks are
cut from wood sawed in boards, or sawed parallel with the
fibres. The thickness of the boards or blocks is about a half-
inch, but, in the Chinese method, it is not important that the
blocks be made of uniform thickness.43 Each block is cut large
enough to contain two pages, and is carefully planed and truly
squared. The surface is then sized with a thick solution of
boiled rice, which saturates the pores of the wood. When the
sizing is hard, the block is ready for the engraver.

The writing or design to be engraved is neatly drawn or
written on thin, strong, transparent paper, and is transferred,
face downward, to the surface of the block. The rubbing of the
back of the paper permanently transfers the writing in its
inverted position to the block. The engraver then cuts away the
field, leaving the transferred lines in high relief. If the graver
slips and spoils a letter, the defective part is cut out; the vacant
space is plugged with new wood, on which plug the letter is
redrawn and cut. Labor is cheap, and skill is abundant: the
cutting of a block of Chinese characters which conveys as
many ideas as a page of large Roman book types costs no more,
often less, than the composition of the types. The block has
advantages over metal types or stereotypes. It is, practically, a
stereotype: correct to copy, it needs no proof-reading; light,
portable, and not so liable to damage as the stereotype, it can be
used for printing copies as they are needed from time to time.
For printing the block, a press is not needed. The block is
adjusted upon a level table, before which the printer stands,
with a bowl of fluid ink on one side, and a pile of paper, cut to
proper size, on the other. In his right hand the printer holds two
flat-faced brushes, fixed on the opposite ends of the same
handle. One brush is occasionally dipped into the ink, p115 and
afterward swept over the face of the block. This done, the
printer places a sheet on the block; he then reverses the position
of the wet brush, and sweeps the paper lightly, but firmly, with
the dry brush at the other end of the handle. This light
impression of the brush is all that is needed to fasten the ink on
the paper. The success of this operation depends largely on the
quality of the paper, which is soft, thin, pliable, and a quick
absorbent of fluid ink.44 If American book papers were
substituted for Chinese paper, the process of printing by the
brush and with fluid ink would be found impracticable: the
sheet would not adhere to the block; the ink would smear on the

paper; the brush would not give enough pressure to transfer the
ink.
Chinese presswork is done with rapidity. Du Halde said that
a printer could perfect, without exertion, ten thousand sheets
within one day. As this performance, about thirteen impressions
in a minute, for a working day of twelve hours, is really greater
than that of ordinary book-printing machines in modern
printing offices, this part of the description of Du Halde may be
rejected as entirely untrustworthy. We must believe that the
good father did not count the work, and that his credulity was
imposed upon by some Chinese braggart. Davis, with more
reason, says that the usual performance of the Chinese printer is
two thousand sheets per day, which is about one-fourth more
than the daily task of an American hand-pressman. The simple
nature of the work favors speed. The sheets are printed on one
side only, and the printer is not delayed by the setting-off, or
smearing of the ink, on the back of the white paper.
Although the Chinese book is printed on paper of the size of
two leaves, in pairs of two pages, it is not stitched through the
back or centre of the double leaf. The paper is folded between
the pages, and the fold is made the outer edge of the book; the
cut edges are the back of the book, p116 through which the
stitching is done. Clumsy as this method of binding may seem
to our standards of propriety, it is done in China with a neatness
and thoroughness which are almost beyond criticism.45
The labor of engraving separate blocks for every work,
which would be regarded as an insuperable difficulty in the
Western World, is esteemed but lightly by the patient and
plodding Chinese, and is no hindrance to a very broad
development of printing. A daily newspaper, known to
European residents as the Peking Gazette , has been printed in
Peking for centuries. This paper, which is made up chiefly of
the orders of the emperor and the proceedings and papers of his

general council, is printed from a composition of hard wax,
which can be more quickly engraved or indented than wood.
The presswork, as might be expected, is inferior to that done
from engraved wooden blocks. The cost, in China, of engraving
a full page, about twice the size of the fac-simile opposite,
would be about forty-five cents; a careful imitation of the same
page by a competent engraver on wood in New-York would
cost about thirty-five dollars.
Adherence to old usages, in neglect of improved methods, is
a true oriental trait, but the preference of the Chinese for block-
printing is not altogether unreasonable. Their written language
is an almost insurmountable obstacle to the employment of
types. Chinese characters do not stand for letters or sounds;
they represent complete words or ideas. As their vocabulary
contains a great many of these words, estimated by some at
80,000, and by others at 240,000, it is impracticable, by reason
of its expense, to cut punches for all these characters. European
type-founders, at various times, have made up an assortment of
Chinese characters for printing the New Testament, and for
other books requiring a limited p117 number of words, but a
complete collection has never been attempted beyond the
Chinese Empire.

Fac-Simile of part of a Page from a Chinese Book. ♠

Chinese Types Made in London.
[Furnished by Mr. John F. Marthens of Pittsburgh.]

The type-foundry attached to the National Printing Office at
Paris, which founded types for 43,000 distinct characters, has,
probably, reached the highest practicable number; but this
performance was accomplished only by repeated alterations of
punches and matrices. The punches were cut on wood, and
pressed in prepared plaster. The matrices so made were broken
when a sufficient quantity of types had been cast from them. By

shortening or cutting off a line or lines, the old punches were
altered to form new characters. The matrices, also, after they
had received the prints of these punches, were sometimes
altered by the p118 separate prints of dots, lines, or angles,
which gave them a different meaning. The imperfection of the
process is obvious, for it required the destruction of many
matrices and punches.
The difficulties in the way of using types, if they could be
made with advantage, are too great to be overlooked: they
could not be classified nor handled with economy. The
American compositor picks types from cases with boxes for
152 characters, and covering an area of 1088 square inches; but
experts in type-setting say that the American case is too large,
and that the speed of the compositor would be much increased
by reducing the area of the case. The performance of the
compositor decreases with an increase in the size of case and in
the number of characters. To provide for 80,000 Chinese
characters, cases covering an area of 550,000 square inches
would be required. In other words, the Chinese compositor
would need the room occupied by five hundred cases; he would
unavoidably waste the largest portion of his time walking
through alleys in search of types, and vainly trying to recollect
the places where he had distributed them.
The Chinese are not entirely insensible to the advantages of
European typography. There is a story current in books on
printing, that Jesuit missionaries, during the latter part of the
seventeenth century, cast 250,000 Chinese characters in the
form of movable types.46 Here is an obvious error: if we
consider the work done afterward with these types, the quantity
stated is altogether too small for the types and too large for the
punches. It is further said that the Jesuit missionaries, with the
permission of the reigning emperor, p119 printed a collection of
ancient and standard works in six thousand octavo volumes. Of

this edition, there are now in Paris, the History of Music in
sixty volumes, the History of the Chinese Language in eighty
volumes, and the History of Foreign Peoples in seventy-five
volumes.47 A printing office, in which movable types of cast
metal are used, has been in operation in Peking since the year
1776. The types of this office are of home manufacture, made
from punches of hard wood and matrices of baked porcelain.
There may be other instances of an occasional use of types for
special purposes, but they are exceptions to the general
practice.
Ever since their invention of the art, the largest part of
Chinese printed work has been done, as it is now done, by
xylography. So long as they continue to use these peculiar
characters, this simple method of printing must be preferred for
its great cheapness and simplicity. We may smile at the
clumsiness of the method, but we should not overlook the fact
that it is efficient. “Every one,” Du Halde says, “hath the liberty
to print what he pleaseth, without the supervising, censure or
licence of any one, and with so small charge, that for every
hundred letters perfectly engraved in the manner above said,
they pay four pence half-penny, yet every letter consists of
many strokes.” In no country are books so cheap and so
abundant as they are in China. The American book or pamphlet
in paper cover, sometimes sold for seventy-five cents, more
frequently for one dollar, seems of exorbitantly high price when
contrasted with a Chinese book of similar size, which can be
had in China for the equivalent of eight or ten cents. If the
Chinese have not derived great benefits from printing, it is
obvious that their failure has not been produced by the high
price of printed work.
There are many points of similarity between the Chinese
method of printing and the early European practice of the art.
The preliminary writing or drawing in ink of a design on paper;

the transfer of lines from the paper upon the wood, p120 and the
cutting away of the field; the use of a fluid writing ink; the
fashion of printing upon one side only of the sheet: these were
features in use by both peoples. If we had a more thorough
knowledge of the processes of the early European engravers on
wood, other points of similarity might be found. These
resemblances seem still more significant when they are
considered with the fact that playing cards, supposed to be of
oriental origin, were among the earliest productions of
European engravers on wood. They have been regarded as a
sufficient warrant for the hypothesis that our knowledge of
engraving on wood must have been taken from China. It is the
belief of many that block-printing was introduced in Europe by
Venetian travelers of the thirteenth century, who had acquired a
full knowledge of all the details of printing through long
residence in China. This is a specious proposition, but it will
not bear close examination.
Venice took the lead of all European cities in the
establishment of commercial intercourse with China. Venetian
merchants, in 1189, occupied an allotted street in
Constantinople, from which port they sent vessels through the
Black Sea, with bales of merchandise, which accompanying
agents introduced into Thibet, Tartary and China. To promote
this traffic, Venice sent to the courts of the Eastern potentates
some of her most reputable citizens as diplomatic and
commercial agents. Marco Polo, the most distinguished of these
embassadors, resided more than twenty years in the great
empire of Cathay, or China, in high favor with the emperor, and
provided with every facility for acquiring a knowledge of the
arts and industry of the country. Soon after his return to Venice,
in 1295, he dictated a narrative of his travels, but his statements
were received with general disbelief, and they have usually
been considered as extravagant and improbable. Of late years,

the travels of Marco Polo have been defended as substantially
truthful, but his most zealous defenders have to confess that he
was remarkably credulous. It is a noteworthy circumstance that
he does not describe printing or p121 printed books, although he
does mention the paper money of China, formally stamped in
red ink with the imperial seal. This paper money must have
been printed, but he does not say anything about the printing.48
The commercial relations between Venice and China were
continued many years, and it is possible that other travelers
may have acquired some knowledge of the peculiarities of
Chinese printing, and may have communicated this knowledge;
but it was a communication of details only, and not of the
principle of printing. Printing could not have been a novelty, for
we have many evidences that it was practised in Italy before
Marco Polo was born. The mechanics of Europe had nothing to
learn of the theory, and but little of the practice, of the art of
xylography. All they needed was something to print, and
something to print on. They were waiting for paper and for
playing cards.

VII

Printing with Ink in Italy during the Twelfth Century . . . Printed Initials in
Manuscripts . . . Printed Signatures and Monograms, with Illustrations . . .
Medieval Trade-Marks, with Illustrations . . . Engraved Initials probably made by
Copyists who could not draw . . . Texts of Books printed from Engraved Letters
. . . The Codex Argenteus of Sweden . . . Weigel’s Fac-Similes of Printing on Silk
and Linen Cloth . . . Probable Method of Printing . . . Printed Fabrics made in
Spain, Sicily and Italy . . . Art not derived from China . . . Antiquity of Stained
Cloths . . . No Connecting Link between Hand-Stamping and Card-Printing . . . No
Early Italian Image Prints . . . Story about the Two Cunios . . . Its Improbability
. . . No Early Notices of Engraving on Wood . . . Not considered a New Art, nor a
Great Art . . . Its Productions of Paltry Nature . . . Early Engravers had nothing to
print on.

A T the beginning of the seventeenth century, a student of old
Italian books called the attention of bibliographers to the
strange uniformity of the initial letters in many old
manuscripts,49 some of which had been made as early as the
ninth century. Each ornamental letter, wherever found or
however often repeated in the same book, was of the same
form. He reached the conclusion that this uniformity had been
produced by engraved stamps. The announcement of this
discovery induced other persons to make similar examinations,
the result of which confirmed the original statement. p123 It was

proved that there was a uniformity in the shapes of the letters
which could not have been made by drawing.

The Mark of Jacobus Arnoldus, The Mark of Johannes Meynersen, ♠
1345. 1435.
[From Jackson.] [From Jackson.]

The statement that a rude method of printing had been
practised three centuries before its supposed invention, was
received by the bibliographers with incredulity. Authors who
had advocated theories of a Chinese, a German or a
Netherlandish discovery of printing would not admit that
printing with ink could have been done at an earlier period.
They said that the initials were made by stenciling, or by
tracings taken from a model letter. But they had a peculiarity
which could not have been produced by stenciling, for they
showed the marks of hard indentation in the parchment.
Papillon, a practical engraver on wood, accepted the indented
letters as the impressions of wood-cuts; Lanzi, the historian of
Italian fine arts, said that the initials were certainly printed.

Signatures which show all the mechanical peculiarities of
impressions from engravings on wood have also been found on
Italian documents of the twelfth century. Printed p124 signatures
or monograms of notaries, which seem to have been made to
serve the double purpose of signature and seal, in imitation of
the kingly practice of affixing the signet, were frequently used
in Italy, Spain and Germany from the ninth to the fourteenth
century. It was customary, also, for the manufacturer or
merchant50 to stamp or brand merchandise with a sign or mark
through which its origin could be traced. It does not appear that
merchants made use of these trade-marks instead of signatures
on paper or parchment, but many of them could neither read
nor write. Yet there was an active trade between Italy and the
Levant, between England and Germany, between Spain and the
Netherlands, which could not have been carried on without
accounts, correspondence, and the employment of duly
authenticated signatures. It may be supposed that the use of
stamped or printed signatures would not be confined to the
notaries and copyists, and that this printing would be practised
by merchants, as much for reasons of necessity as of
convenience. The merchant who knew the advantages derived
from branding boxes or cattle, and the respect paid to the stamp
of a notary, would also see the utility of an engraved and
stamped signature on a letter of credit or a bill of lading.
The initials printed in manuscripts were probably made for
scribes who could write, but could not draw the floriated initials
then placed in all books of value. They may have been cut by
calligraphers, who tried to expedite their work, or may have
been made to the order of copyists who desired to free
themselves from their dependence on the calligrapher. In either
case there would have been sufficient reason for the engraving.
These initials are, for the most part, of unusually intricate
design, but they were engraved in outline only, so p125 that they

could be filled in with bright color, by hand-painting or by
stenciling. They were printed with a fluid writing ink, which
may have been black, but is now of a dingy brown.
A recent Italian author, D. Vincenzo Requeno, who has
published an essay on this subject, tells us that the employment
of engraved letters by the Italian book-makers of the middle
ages was not confined to floriated initials. He says that they
were sometimes used for the texts of books, and that many so-
called manuscripts were printed by stamping cut letters one
after another upon the page. This method of printing a book,
letter by letter, could have been made a quicker process than
that of careful writing. Not more than sixty-six engraved
characters would have been required for the copying of any
ordinary manuscript. A skillful workman, who had the
characters before him, fitted up as hand-stamps, lettered so that
he could select them at a glance, resting on a surface which
kept them coated with ink, could take them up one after
another, and produce on paper the impressions of letters faster
than they could be produced by the penman who was obliged to
carefully draw each letter and to paint or fill in its outlines with
ink.51

Mark of Adam de Mark of Edmund Mark of an unknown ♠
Walsokne, who died Pepyr, who died person from a tomb in
1349. 1483. Lynn.
[From Jackson.]

In a library at Upsal, Sweden, is a volume known as the
Codex Argenteus , or the Silvered Book, which seems to have
been made exclusively by this method of stamping one letter
p126 after another. The book is so called because the letters are

in silver, and present a brilliant appearance, like the glittering
letters of bookbinders, on their leaves of purple vellum. The
Codex Argenteus presents many indications of hand-printing:
the letters are depressed on one side of the leaf, and raised on
the other, as if made by indentation. Under the letters that have
been too rudely pressed with the stamp, the vellum is thin; in
some parts the leaf has been broken by pressure and patched
with bits of vellum. Occasionally, letters are found turned
upside down—an error possible to a hand-printer, but not to a
penman. John Ihre, who described the book, in a pamphlet
published at Upsal in 1755, says the silver leaf of the letters
was affixed to the vellum by means of sizing, and that the
letters were produced by stamping on the leaf with engraved
punches of hard metal, which had been heated and used as
bookbinders now use gilding tools. The use of heat has not been
proved, but the blemishes of the work are most satisfactorily
explained by the hypothesis that the book was printed letter by
letter.52
This explanation of the method by which the book was made
has not been generally accepted. It was said that silver letters
are found in medieval books made entirely by writing. But this
is negative evidence, for these books do not present the
mechanical imperfections of the Codex Argenteus . There has,
evidently, been a vague apprehension that the admission of an
early use of single types for printing would invalidate all
subsequent claims to the invention of typography. One can
hardly imagine a grosser error, for the hand-printing of single
types is not typography. It is even farther removed from it than
the printing of letters on engraved blocks. p127
The doubts that once existed as to the genuineness of the
printed initials in manuscript books have been dissipated by
recent investigation in another direction. It has been
conclusively proved that woven fabrics of silk and of linen,

ornamented with designs printed in bright colors, not unlike
those of modern chintzes and calicoes, were produced between
the twelfth and fifteenth centuries. The designs or patterns were
printed in ink from engraved blocks of wood, by the tedious
process of hand-stamping. Of this curious primitive printed
work, there are, in several European collections, fragments of
images, priests’ robes, altar cloths, and ecclesiastic apparel of
like nature. The genuineness of these relics of early printing,
and the process by which the printing was done, have been
established in the most satisfactory manner. Weigel, in his
valuable work on the Infancy of Printing , has illustrated this
part of his subject with fac-similes of these fragments which
prove that Italian workmen not only knew how to print, but that
they printed in colors with great precision.
The modern printer who fairly appreciates the difficulties of
printing colors in register, and the force required to secure a
good impression from a large, flat surface, may be puzzled by
the neatness of this early printing. His experience tells him that
these designs should have been printed upon strong and
accurately adjusted presses, and from large surfaces, in sections
or forms of two or more square feet. But the method of the
Italian printers was quite different; the designs were engraved
on many pieces of wood of small size, made to fit each other
with accuracy, and each piece was separately inked and struck
by hand, or by a mallet, on the fabric. A careful workman could
readily connect the different impressions of different blocks,
keeping the colors in true register, and could pursue the pattern
in a neat manner over any surface, however large. The work
was tedious, but not more so than that of finishing, or gilding
by hand tools, in ornamental bookbinding, which is now done
by a similar method. Slow as it may seem when compared with
the rapidity of modern p128 calico-printing, it was an

improvement on all methods then known, and much quicker
and more exact than any form of stenciling or hand-painting.
The fragment adjudged by Weigel the oldest of the ten
specimens illustrated in the book, is a bit of red silk, woven and
printed during the last ten years of the twelfth century. He says
that we must search for its origin where silk fabrics were most
extensively manufactured; that it must have been made by
Moorish artisans of Almeria, Grenada and Seville in Southern
Spain, or by Saracens in Sicily in the rich manufacturing cities
of Palermo53 and Messina. Printed fabrics of silk, cotton, linen,
and woolen stuffs were subsequently made in Lucca, in Genoa,
and the free cities of Northern Italy.
The art of staining cloth with colors is older than history.
Homer writes about the magnificent colored cloths of Sidon;
Herodotus mentions the garments of the people of Caucasus,
which he says were covered with figures of animals; Pliny
describes the decorated linens of the old Egyptians.54 The
Spanish invaders of Mexico brought back statements that all the
people of the New World were clothed in cotton cloths p129 of
brilliant colors, which Stephens says were certainly printed.
Cook, the discoverer of islands in the Pacific, says that the
Polynesians beautified their garments by a method of stamping.
It is not even necessary to attribute the early Italian practice of
printing upon woven fabrics to the Saracens of Sicily; the
Italian practice may have been the revival of a disused but
unforgotten Roman art—a revival made possible through the
growth of commerce and manufactures.
There is no connecting link between the Italian hand-stamps
of the thirteenth and the Venetian playing cards of the fifteenth
century. There are no Italian prints of images, and no Italian
block-books, which can be attributed to this period. Papillon,
the author of a treatise on engraving, is the only person who has
attempted to supply this deficiency in the record. He gives a

description of eight large prints, which he thinks were made at
Ravenna, in the year 1286, by a twin brother and sister, known
as the two Cunios:
When I was a young man, and employed by my father almost every week-day in
different places, to paste or arrange our papers for the hanging of rooms, it happened
that, in 1719 or 1720, I was sent to the village of Bagneux, near Mount Rouge, to a
Mr. De Greder, a Swiss captain, who there possessed a very pretty house. After I had
papered a closet for him, he employed me to paste certain papers in imitation of
mosaic upon the shelves of his library. One day after dinner, he found me reading in
one of his books, and was, in consequence, induced to show me two or three very
ancient volumes which had been lent to him by a Swiss officer, one of his friends,
that he might examine them at his leisure. We conversed together about the prints
contained in them, and concerning the antiquity of engraving on wood. I will now
give the description of these ancient volumes, such as I wrote in his presence, and as
he had the goodness to dictate to me: “Upon a cartouche, or frontispiece, decorated
with fanciful ornaments, which, although Gothic, are far from disagreeable, and
measuring about nine inches in width by six inches in height, with the arms, no
doubt, of the family of Cunio at the top of it, are rudely engraved the following
words, in bad Latin, or ancient Gothic Italian, with many abbreviations:
“The Heroic Actions, represented in Figures, of the great and magnanimous
Macedonian King, the bold and valiant Alexander, p130 dedicated, presented, and
humbly offered to the most holy father Pope Honorius II, the glory and support of
the Church, and to our illustrious and generous father and mother—by us,
Allessandro Alberico Cunio, cavalier, and Isabella Cunio, twin brother and sister—
first reduced, imagined, and attempted to be executed in relief, with a small knife, on
blocks of wood, and made even and polished by this dear sister, and continued and
finished by us together, at Ravenna, from eight pictures of our invention, painted six
times larger than here represented, engraved and explained by verses, and thus
marked upon the paper, to perpetuate the number of them, and to enable us to present
them to our relatives and friends, in testimony of gratitude, friendship and affection.
All this was done and finished by us when only sixteen years of age.”55

The book was, apparently, in its original binding of thin
plates of wood, covered with leather, but without any gilding,
ornamented only by crossed divisions marked with a heated
iron. Papillon says that the engravings were cut in a crude,
experimental manner, and that they appear to have been printed
by rubbing the palm of the hand or a frotton many times over
the paper. The tint of the ink was a pale, faded blue, mixed as
water color. The field of the engravings was badly routed out;
projections that soiled the paper appeared in several places,
obscuring words, which had subsequently been written on the

margin. Neither the engravings, nor the memoir bound with
them, furnish us with dates; but there can be no doubt as to the
period in which the engravings were ostensibly made, for Pope
Honorius occupied the papal chair only between April 2, 1285,
and April 3, 1287.
There is nothing improbable in the statement that prints like
these could have been made in 1285. There may be a
substratum of truth under the exaggerations raised by family
pride and a love for the marvelous; but the memoir of the lives
of the two Cunios, and the details furnished by Papillon about
the appearance of the engravings, are altogether unsatisfactory.
{1} Whatever opinion may be formed of the credibility p131 of
the story of the two Cunios,56 it must be admitted that their
prints had no known influence in the development of engraving
on wood. They were not imitated. The interval between the
years 1285 and 1440 is almost an absolute blank in the annals
of Italian engraving: it furnishes us neither trace nor tradition of
engravings on wood. The oldest authentic Italian engravings on
wood are in The Meditations of John of Turrecremata , a book
printed at Rome in 1467; but these engravings cannot be
claimed as illustrations of the development of the Italian
practice of the art, for they were designed and cut by or for
Ulric Hahn, a German printer.
This silence of the early chroniclers should not be construed
as evidence that there was no engraving on wood; it is evidence
only of the trivial nature of the work done. To specify the work
is to justify the neglect. It consisted, so far as we know, only of
stamps for the use of notaries, autographs for those who did not
write, trade-marks for merchants’ packages, outlined initials for
inexpert scribes, and engraved blocks for manufacturers of
textile fabrics. This paltry work seems specially inappropriate
for the initiation of a great art destined to make a revolution in
literature.

Engraving on wood was not considered as a great art by the
earlier engravers. As it appeared to them, it was but a
makeshift, a mechanical method of evading the labor of
difficult drawing or of abridging its drudgery. To the
chroniclers of this period, engraving was entirely unworthy of
notice. No one could see that it had any marked merit. So far
from deserving praise, the art of engraving and printing letters
was p132 regarded as a confessed acknowledgment of inability
to draw, more deserving of censure than of praise. There were
in the thirteenth century workmen, now unknown, who
produced exquisite workmanship in the carving of wood and
stone, in the chasing of gold and silver, and in the copying of
manuscripts. If these men were thought unworthy of notice, the
rude engravers on wood would be entirely forgotten. The
paltriness of the printed matter, and the perishable nature of the
substances on which the printing was done, will account for the
disappearance of most of the early prints. Nobody cared to
preserve a bit of printed cotton cloth as evidence of the method
of printing then in fashion. Nobody could foresee that it would
be of any interest.
The trivial nature of the work cannot be considered as an
evidence of the incompetency of the engravers to do work of
merit. They left us no printing of permanent value, because they
knew of no proper substance to print upon. The only materials
available were parchment, papyrus and stiff cotton paper, all of
which were unsuitable. Printing can be done to advantage only
on paper, but paper was sparingly used in the fourteenth
century. When paper came, printing followed.

VIII

Paper Invented in China in the First Century . . . Paper-Making in Japan, with
Illustration . . . Description of Process . . . An Illustration of Oriental Book-
Making . . . The European Process like the Oriental . . . Paper known in Europe in
the Fifth Century . . . Not used for Writing . . . Made of Cotton . . . Earliest Notice
of Linen Paper . . . Differences of Opinion concerning its Introduction . . .
Different Methods of Preparing Pulp . . . Early European Paper-Mills . . .
Illustration of Paper-Mill by Jost Amman . . . Mills in Spain, France, Sicily and
Italy . . . Possible Antiquity of the European Process . . . Paper not used by
Copyists . . . Its Inferiority . . . Vellum Preferred . . . Palimpsests . . . Government
Interference with Manufacturers of Paper . . . Changes of Fashion in Paper . . .
Paper came in Proper Time.

A C C O R D I N G to Chinese chronology, paper was invented
in China at the close of the first century, or one hundred and
forty-five years57 after the Chinese invention of printing. All
the printing that had been done before the invention of paper
was on sheets or leaves of cotton or silk. This version of the
antiquity of the Chinese invention is in some degree
corroborated by a Japanese chronicle, which says that paper
was exported from the Corea to Japan between the years 280
and 610 A. D. In time, the Japanese paper was made so superior
to the Chinese, that there was no further need for importation.

This superiority has been maintained to this day. In some
branches of paper-making, the Japanese are p134 without rivals
in either the eastern or western world. Two hundred and sixty-
three kinds of paper are now made in Yeddo. Some of them
may have their origin in reasons of habit, caprice or fashion, but
most of them are made for specific uses. Papers are
manufactured not only for writing and printing, but for hats,
umbrellas, lanterns, clothing, dolls’ dresses, twine, candle-wick,
and an endless variety of useful or ceremonious purposes. An
anonymous author has wisely remarked: “When a people
contrive to make saucepans that are used over charcoal fires,
fine pocket-handkerchiefs, and sailors’ water-proof overcoats
out of paper, they may be considered as having pretty
thoroughly mastered the subject.”
The illustration on the opposite page is the reduced fac-
simile of the engraving of a Japanese artist who has attempted
to show how paper was made in his country in the eighteenth
century. The grim old man who may be seen at the upper part of
the illustration, with a leg in one page, and with head and body
in another, is beating paper stock to a pulp.58 His only tool is a
forked club, with which he pounds on the stone, and macerates
the leaves and inner bark of various trees that have been
previously saturated in an adjoining tub that is supposed to
contain a solution of caustic alkali. How the stock could be
reduced to the requisite smoothness for paper pulp by this
rough manipulation is a problem that no American paper-maker
will undertake to solve. We only know that it is done and well
done. The long tank in the centre of the left-hand page contains
the pulp dissolved in water. Two men are taking out the pulp
upon paper-moulds, or sieves of bamboo splints which have
been wire-drawn and boiled in oil. The water taken up with the
pulp is drained through the holes in the sieve, leaving upon the
woven splints a thin and flabby web of paper pulp. The web is

then couched on p136 a surface of cloth or felt, or of some
substitute of similar nature, on which, in turn, another layer of
felt and pulp is placed. When the pile is of sufficient height it is
pressed, until all the water that can be expelled by pressure is
removed. The two attendants on the paper-makers near the tank
are engaged in the work of interleaving the web and carrying it
to be pressed. This done, the sheet is firm enough to be
handled. It is then laid upon a smooth board where it stays until
it is dry. The operation of surfacing or polishing the sheet of
paper, by burnishing it with a smooth shell, is not shown in the
engraving. But this finish was not given to all papers. The
neatly corded bales show that paper was made in large
quantities.

The Japanese Method of Making Paper. ♠
[From Breitkopf.]

This engraving is of service as an illustration of oriental
book-making. These two pages were engraved and printed
together on one side of the paper. The sheet was then folded
through the centre: the folded edge was made the outer edge,

while the two cut or raw edges were neatly stitched together
and made the back of the book. This method of sewing through
the cut edges, instead of through the fold, began with the use of
the cut leaves of silk or cotton, which were used in printing the
earliest Chinese books before paper was made. If the cut edges
of silk or cotton were made the outer edges of the book, the
leaves would soon fray or ravel out in threads; if they were
made the inner edges, the integrity of the leaf would necessarily
be more secure. Like other habits and fashions, this curious
mode of binding has been continued when the necessity for it
has ceased to exist.
Although this engraving was made in the eighteenth century,
it may be accepted as a correct representation of paper-making
as it has always been practised in China and Japan. Rude as this
process may seem, it is, in its more important features,
excepting that of pulp-beating, the process that was used in
Europe until the invention of the cylinder and Fourdrinier
paper-making machines. Nor is this process entirely out of
fashion. There are paper-makers yet living who have p137 taken
pulp out of the vats with hand moulds and deckle, and have
couched it on felts, substantially by the same method that was
in use in Asia fifteen hundred years ago.
Oriental paper-makers do not use rags nor raw cotton for
making their pulp. They select different kinds of bamboo, and
the bark and leaves of various trees, which they combine in
unequal proportions, so as to produce for different kinds of
paper the different qualities of strength, smoothness and
flexibility. These materials are saturated in lime water, and are
sometimes boiled to free them from useless matter. Barks are
sometimes triturated with pestles in a mortar. While the greatest
care is taken to prevent the cutting of the fibres in too short
lengths, every expedient is made use of to split up the fibres in

the finest threads. The result of this care is the production of
papers of wonderful strength and flexibility.
It is admitted by all historians that the early European
practice of paper-making was derived from Asia. How the
knowledge of the art was transmitted to us from China, Persia
or India, and where and when paper was first made in Europe
are questions of controversy. The difficulty we encounter in an
inquiry concerning its derivation is aggravated by the discovery
that two kinds of paper—one, said to be made of cotton, and
another, said to be made of linen or rags—were used in Europe
at a very early period—a period in which we find no traces of
the existence of a European paper-mill. Proteaux says that a
thick card or card-like paper came in use during the fifth
century,59 when the manufacture of papyrus was declining. But
its first use was not as a substitute for papyrus or parchment. It
was called charta damascena , the card of Damascus; charta
gossypina , or the cotton card; charta bombycina , or the silk-
like card; serica , or the silky fabric. It was usually mentioned
as a card; for it was so thick, and so unlike papyrus, that it was
regarded as a different thing, and p138 was defined by a
different name. This cotton card or cotton paper was thick,
coarse, woolly, yellow and somewhat fragile. It was so inferior
to papyrus, parchment or linen paper as a writing surface, and
was so generally neglected by professional copyists, that all the
earlier chroniclers of paper-making have passed it by as
unworthy of notice.
The linen paper, so called, came in use at a much later
period, but there is great disagreement among authorities as to
the date. Meerman, the author of a learned book on the origin
of printing, offered a reward for the earliest manuscript on linen
paper, which, he decided, could not have been used in Europe
before 1270. Montfaucon, a learned antiquary, says that he
could find no book nor leaf of linen paper of earlier date, but he

thinks that it was known and used in Europe to a limited extent
before 1270. Gibbon, citing the authority of Arabian historians,
says that a linen paper was made in Samarcand in the eighth
century, and leaves his reader to form the inference that not
long after, paper found its way to Europe. Casiri, a Spanish
author, who made a catalogue of the Arabian manuscripts in the
Escurial, says that in this collection are many old manuscripts
of the twelfth century on linen paper, including one of the year
1100. But we are not told that this paper was made in Spain; it
may have been brought from the East. Tiraboschi, an Italian
historian, says that linen paper is the invention of an Italian,
Pace de Fabiano of Treviso, who flourished about the middle of
the fourteenth century. But Peter Mauritius, abbot of a French
monastery at Cluny, in a treatise written by him in 1120 against
the Jews, says, “The books we read every day are made of the
skins of sheep, goats and calves [parchment], of oriental plants
[papyrus], or of the scrapings of old rags, or of any other
compacted refuse material.”60 It would be a hopeless task to
attempt to gather from these discordant p139 statements a
satisfactory explanation of the origin or of the introduction of
paper in Europe.
The modern paper-maker, who produces paper pulp from
mixtures in variable proportions of all kinds of textile rubbish,
will doubt the ability of any antiquary to distinguish linen from
cotton paper, especially when Tiraboschi admits that cotton
paper was made in Italy during the fourteenth century so
closely resembling linen paper that only a paper-maker could
perceive the difference. The microscope that enables the
educated investigator to detect the characteristic features of
every kind of vegetable fibre is really the only safe test61 for
determining the constituents of paper; but it does not appear
that this instrument was ever used by the authors who have
undertaken to discriminate between linen and cotton paper. The

explanation of these contradictory statements must be sought in
another quarter.
The peculiarities of the so-called linen and cotton papers are
due more to their distinct methods of manufacture than to the
material used. The earliest notice of the manufacture of paper in
Europe clearly specifies the practice of two unlike methods. We
are told that, in the year 1085, a paper-mill at Toledo, which
had been operated by the Moors, passed into the hands of
Christians, probably Spaniards, who made great improvements
in the manufacture. The Moors made paper pulp by grinding
the raw cotton, a process which hastened the work, but it
shortened and weakened the fibres, making a paper that was
tender and woolly. The Spaniards stamped the cotton and rags
into a pulp, by pestles or stamps driven by water power, a
method which preserved the long fibres that gave the fabric its
strength. This paper, now known as linen paper, was then
known as parchment cloth. The cotton paper of the antiquarians
is, apparently, the paper that had its fibres cut by grinding; the
linen paper was the paper made from pulp that had been beaten.
p140
The first European paper-mills seem to have been established
by the Moors or Saracens who had direct intercourse with the
East. Paper was made at Xativa, Valencia, and at other towns of
Spain, by Moors and Spaniards, and the paper made at Xativa
was much commended for its whiteness. We find mention, also,
of a family of paper-makers in the island of Sicily in the year
1102. For many years the Moors were not only the largest
manufacturers, but the largest consumers. In various cities of
Spain, seventy libraries were opened for the instruction of the
public, during a period when all the rest of Europe, without
books, without learning and without cultivation, was plunged in
the most disgraceful ignorance.62

Paper-Mill of the Sixteenth Century. ♠
[From Jost Amman.]

In this illustration, which was first published by Jost Amman
in his Book of Trades , we see something of the mechanism
always used for preparing the pulp for paper. Large water-
wheels, partially seen through the window, set in motion a
wooden cylinder evenly spiked with projections. As the
cylinder revolved, these projections tilted up, and then dropped
heavy stampers of hard wood that beat against the torn and
well-soaked rags lying within the tank. The stamping was
continued until the macerated rags were of the consistency of
cream. The stuff thus made was then transferred to tubs, at one
of which a p141 paper-maker is at work. The dipping out of the
pulp with hand mould and deckle, the couching of the web on
interleaving felts, and its transfer to be pressed by the brisk

little boy, are the same processes in all points as those that have
been described in the Japanese engraving. The processes of
sorting and washing the rags, and of bleaching the half-made
stuff are not shown in the cut, but they were not neglected. The
screw press behind the paper-moulder is the only innovation of
importance.
The development of paper-making in Europe cannot be
traced with any degree of certainty. There are Italian authors
who assert that linen paper was made in Lombardy and
Tuscany as early as the year 1300, and that the Italian
knowledge of the art was derived not from Spain or Sicily, but
through the Greeks at Constantinople, who had been taught
how to make paper by the Saracens. The earliest authentic
mention of an Italian paper-mill is that concerning the mill of
Fabiano, which had been in operation for some years before
1340, and which produced at that time nothing but the cotton
card-paper. There is no record of paper-mills in the Netherlands
during the fourteenth century. Paper was made at Troyes,
France, in the year 1340. In the British Islands there was no
paper-mill before that of John Tate, who is supposed to have
established it in the year 1498. In Germany, a paper-mill was
established at Nuremberg by Ulman Stromer about the year
1390.63 But the different paper-marks in the home-made paper
of German manuscripts of this period are indications that there
were paper-mills in many German towns. p142
The gradual development of paper-making in Europe is but
imperfectly presented through these fragmentary facts. Paper
may have been made for many years before it found chroniclers
who thought the manufacture worthy of notice. The Spanish
paper-mills of Toledo which were at work in the year 1085, and
an ancient family of paper-makers which was honored with
marked favor by the king of Sicily in the year 1102, are
carelessly mentioned by contemporary writers as if paper-

making was an old and established business. It does not appear
that paper was a novelty at a much earlier period. The bulls of
the popes of the eighth and ninth centuries were written on
cotton card or cotton paper, but no writer called attention to this
card, or described it as a new material. It has been supposed
that this paper was made in Asia, but it could have been made
in Europe. A paper-like fabric, made from the barks of trees,
was used for writing by the Longobards in the seventh century,
and a coarse imitation of the Egyptian papyrus, in the form of a
strong brown paper, had been made by the Romans as early as
the third century. The art of compacting in a web the macerated
fibres of plants seems to have been known and practised to
some extent in Southern Europe long before the establishment
of Moorish paper-mills.
The Moors brought to Spain and Sicily not an entirely new
invention, but an improved method of making paper, and what
was more important, a culture and civilization that kept this
method in constant exercise. It was chiefly for the lack of
ability and lack of disposition to put paper to proper use that the
earlier European knowledge of paper-making was so barren of
results. The art of book-making as it was then practised was
made subservient to the spirit of luxury more than to the desire
for knowledge. Vellum was regarded by the copyists as the only
substance fit for writing on, even when it was so scarce that it
could be used only for the most expensive books. The card-like
cotton paper once made by the Saracens was certainly known in
Europe for many years p143 before its utility was recognized.
Hallam says that the use of this cotton paper was by no means
general or frequent, except in Spain or Italy, and perhaps in the
South of France, until the end of the fourteenth century. Nor
was it much used in Italy for books.64
Paper came before its time and had to wait for recognition. It
was sorely needed. The Egyptian manufacture of papyrus,

which was in a state of decay in the seventh century, ceased
entirely in the ninth or tenth. Not many books were written
during this period, but there was then, and for at least three
centuries afterward, an unsatisfied demand for something to
write upon. Parchment was so scarce that reckless copyists
frequently resorted to the desperate expedient of effacing the
writing on old and lightly esteemed manuscripts. It was not a
difficult task. The writing ink then used was usually made of
lamp-black, gum, and vinegar; it had but a feeble encaustic
property, and it did not bite in or penetrate the parchment. The
work of effacing this ink was accomplished by moistening the
parchment with a weak alkaline solution and by rubbing it with
pumice-stone. This treatment did not entirely obliterate the
writing, but made it so indistinct that the parchment could be
written over the second time. Manuscripts so treated are now
known as palimpsests. All the large European public libraries
have copies of the palimpsests which are melancholy
illustrations of the literary tastes of many writers or book-
makers during the middle ages. More convincingly than by
argument, they show the utility of paper. Manuscripts of the
Gospels , of the Iliad , and of works of the highest merit, often
of great beauty and accuracy, are dimly seen underneath stupid
sermons, and theological writings of a nature so paltry p144 that
no man living cares to read them. In some instances the first
writing has been so thoroughly scrubbed out that its meaning is
irretrievably lost.
Much as paper was needed, it was not at all popular with
copyists. Their prejudice was not altogether unreasonable, for it
was thick, coarse, knotty, and in every way unfitted for the
display of ornamental penmanship or illumination. The cheaper
quality, then known as cotton paper, was especially
objectionable. It seems to have been so badly made as to need
governmental interference. Frederick II of Germany, in the year

1221, foreseeing evils that might arise from bad paper, made a
decree by which he made invalid all public documents that
should be put on cotton paper, and ordered them within two
years to be transcribed upon parchment. Peter II, of Spain, in
the year 1338, publicly commanded the paper-makers of
Valencia and Xativa to make their paper of a better quality and
equal to that of an earlier period.
The better quality of paper, now known as linen paper, had
the merits of strength, flexibility and durability in a high
degree, but it was set aside by the copyists because the fabric
was too thick and the surface was too rough. The art of
calendering or polishing papers until they were of a smooth,
glossy surface, which was then practised by the Persians, was
unknown to, or at least unpractised by, the early European
makers. The changes of fashion in the selection of writing
papers are worthy of passing notice. The rough hand-made
papers so heartily despised by the copyists of the thirteenth
century are now preferred by neat penmen and draughtsmen.
The imitations of medieval paper, thick, harsh, and dingy, and
showing the marks of the wires upon which the fabric was
couched, are preferred by men of letters for books and
correspondence, while highly polished modern plate papers,
with surfaces much more glossy than any preparation of
vellum, are now rejected by them as finical and effeminate.
There is a popular notion that the so-called inventions of
paper and xylographic printing were gladly welcomed by p145
men of letters, and that the new fabric and the new art were
immediately pressed into service. The facts about to be
presented in succeeding chapters will lead to a different
conclusion. We shall see that the makers of playing cards and of
image prints were the men who first made extended use of
printing, and that self-taught and unprofessional copyists were
the men who gave encouragement to the manufacture of paper.

The more liberal use of paper at the beginning of the fifteenth
century by this newly created class of readers and book-buyers
marks the period of transition and of mental and mechanical
development for which the crude arts of paper-making and of
block-printing had been waiting for centuries. We shall also see
that if paper had been ever so cheap and common during the
middle ages, it would have worked no changes in education or
literature; it could not have been used by the people, for they
were too illiterate; it would not have been used by the
professional copyists, for they preferred vellum and despised
the substitute.

IX

Education controlled by the Church . . . All Books in Latin . . . Ecclesiastics the only
Scholars and Book-Makers . . . Copyists in Constantinople . . . In Ireland . . .
Charlemagne’s Educational Policy . . . Copyists of France and their Work . . . The
Scriptoriums of Monasteries . . . Errors of Copyists . . . Illuminators of Books . . .
Bookbinders . . . Profuse Ornamentation of Books . . . Neglect of Books and
Copying by Monks . . . Copyists and Book-Makers appear among the Laity . . .
Regulations of the University of Paris about Copyists . . . Character of Medieval
Books . . . Universal Appreciation of Pictures . . . General Use of Abbreviations
. . . Paper Used only for Inferior Books . . . Rise of the Romance Literature . . . Its
Luxurious Books . . . Book-Collecting a Princely Pastime . . . High Prices paid for
Books of Merit . . . Fondness for Expensive Books retarded the Development of
Printing.

F R O M the sixth to the thirteenth century, the ecclesiastics of
the Roman Catholic church held all the keys of scholastic
knowledge. They wrote the books, kept the libraries, and taught
the schools. During this period there was no literature worthy of
the name that was not in the dead language Latin, and but little

of any kind that did not treat of theology. A liberal education
was of no value to any one who did not propose to be a monk
or priest. Science, as we p147 now understand the word, and
classical literature, were sadly neglected. Scholastic theology
and metaphysical philosophy were the studies which took
precedence of all others. The knowledge derived through these
narrow channels may have been imperfect, but it was a power.
The church kept it to and for itself; hedging it in with difficulty
and mystery, and making it inaccessible to poor people. The
study of Latin would have been neglected, and its literature
forgotten, if this dead language had not been the language of
the Scriptures, of the canons and liturgies of the church, and of
the writings of the fathers. Ecclesiastics were required, by
virtue of their position, to study Latin, but there were many in
high station, even as late as the fourteenth century, who were
barely able to read,65 and many more who could not write.
The manufacture by professional copyists of the books of
devotion required for the services of the church, which had died
of neglect in Rome, and which had been driven out of
Constantinople by the hostility of the iconoclastic emperors, re-
appeared in Ireland, with unprecedented elegance of
workmanship. It does not appear that the diligence of the
monks at Iona was of any permanent benefit to Ireland, but it
was of great value to the corrupted religion and waning
civilization of Western Europe. Irish missionaries founded
schools and monasteries in England, and taught their Anglo-
Saxon converts to ornament books after a fashion now known
and described as the Saxon style. Books of great beauty, p148
admirably66 written by unknown Irish copyists, are still
preserved in Germany, France and Switzerland, to which
countries Irish missionaries were sent from Iona between the
sixth and ninth centuries. These missionaries revived the taste
for letters.

Flaccus Alcuin, an Englishman and a graduate of Anglo-
Saxon schools, the teacher and adviser of Charlemagne, was
authorized by the great emperor to institute a policy which
would multiply books and disseminate knowledge. It was
ordered that every abbot, bishop and count should keep in
permanent employment a qualified copyist who must write
correctly, using Roman letters only, and that every monastic
institution should maintain a room known as the scriptorium ,
fitted up with desks and furnished with all the implements for
writing. The work of copying manuscripts and increasing
libraries was made a life-long business. Alcuin earnestly
entreated the monks to zealousness in the discharge of this duty.
“It is,” he writes, “a most meritorious work, more beneficial to
the health than working in the fields, which profits only a man’s
body, whilst the labor of the copyist profits his soul.” On
another occasion, Alcuin exhorted the monks who could not
write neatly to learn to bind books. p149

The Scriptorium. ♠
[From Lacroix.]

The copyists of the middle ages may be properly divided in
two classes: the class that considered copying an irksome duty
and that did its work mechanically and badly; the class that
treated book-making as a purely artistic occupation, and gave
the most time and care to ornamentation. The book-makers who
made search for authentic copies, comparing the different texts
of books and correcting their errors, did not appear until after
the invention of printing. The mechanical drudges, who were
always most numerous, not only repeated the errors of their
faulty copies, but added to them. Errors became so frequent that
some of the more careful and conscientious copyists thought it
necessary to repeat at the end of every book the solemn
adjuration of Irenæus:

I adjure thee who shall transcribe this book, by our Lord Jesus Christ, and by his
glorious coming to judge the quick and dead, p150 that thou compare what thou
transcribest, and correct it carefully according to the copy from which thou
transcribest, and that thou also annex a copy of this adjuration to what thou hast
written.

The illustration annexed, the fac-simile of a few lines from a
Latin Bible written in the ninth century, is a fair example of the
carelessness of many mechanical copyists. The words In illo
tempore are not to be found in correct copies of the Vulgate;67
the very awkward writing, the running together of words, the
unnecessary contractions, and the misuse of capital letters, are
flagrant blemishes that call for no comment.

The Penmanship of a Copyist of the Ninth Century. ♠
[From Lacroix.]

The letters of this book are of the Roman form, as had been
commanded by Charlemagne; but this form of writing
gradually went out of use, not only in France, but even in Italy
and Spain. The unskillful writers who could not properly
produce the plain lines and true curves of Roman letters, tried
to hide the ungainliness of their awkwardly constructed
characters by repeated touches of the pen, which made them
bristle with angles. In the golden age of pointed architecture
and superfluous ornamentation, this fault became a fashion. The
pointed letters became known as ecclesiastic letters, and then
there seemed to be a special propriety in putting finials and
crockets on the letters of books of piety. It is to the failing skill
and bad taste of inexpert copyists more than to their desire to

construct an improved form of writing, that p151 we may trace
the origin of the Black or Gothic letter,68 which, under a great
many names and modifications, was employed in all books
until supplanted by the Roman types of Jenson.
The copyists and calligraphers were stimulated to do their
best by the religious zeal of wealthy laymen who frequently
gave to religious houses large sums of money for the copying
and ornamentation of books. It was taught that the gift of an
illuminated book, or of the means to make it, was an act of
piety which would be held in perpetual remembrance. For the
medieval books of luxury thus made to order, the finest vellum
was selected. The size most in fashion was that now known as
demy folio, of which the leaf is about ten inches wide and
fifteen inches long, but smaller sizes were often made. The
space to be occupied by the written text was mapped out with
faint lines, so that the writer could keep his letters on a line, at
even distance from each other and within the prescribed
margin. Each letter was carefully drawn, and filled in or painted
with repeated touches of the pen. With good taste, black ink
was most frequently selected for the text; red ink was used only
for the more prominent words, and the catch-letters, then
known as the rubricated letters. Sometimes texts were written
in blue, green, purple, gold or silver inks, but it was soon
discovered that texts in bright color were not so readable as
texts in black.

A French Manuscript of the Fifteenth Century. ♠
[From Lacroix.]

When the copy­ist had fin­ished his sheet, he passed it to the
de­sign­er, who sketched the bor­der, pic­tures and in­i­tials. The
sheet was then given to the il­lum­i­na­tor, who paint­ed it. p152 The
orna­men­ta­tion of a med­ie­val book of the first class is be­yond
de­scrip­tion by words or by wood-cuts. Every inch of space was
used. Its broad mar­gins were filled with quaint orna­ments,
some­times of high merit, admirably painted in vivid colors.
Grotesque initials, which, with their flourishes, often spanned
the full height of the page, or broad bands of floriated tracery
that occupied its entire width, were the only indications of the

changes of chapter or of subject. In printers’ phrase, the
composition was “close-up and solid” to the extreme degree of
compactness. The uncommonly free use of red ink for the
smaller initials was not altogether a matter of taste; if the page
had been written entirely in black ink, it would have been
unreadable through its blackness. This nicety in writing
consumed much time, but the medieval copyist was seldom
governed by con­si­der­at­ions of time or expense. It was of little
con­se­quence wheth­er the book he trans­cribed would be fin­ished
in one or in ten years. It was required only that he should keep
at his work steadily and do his best. His skill is more to be com­‐
mended than his taste. Many of his initials and borders were
out­rageously inap­prop­riate for the text for which they were
designed. The gravest truths were hedged in with the most
child­ish conceits. Angels, but­ter­flies, p153 goblins, clowns,
birds, snails and monkeys, sometimes in artistic, but much
oftener in grotesque, and sometimes in highly offensive
positions, are to be found in the illuminated borders of copies
of the gospels and the writings of the fathers.
The book was bound by the for­war­der, who sewed the leaves
and put them in a cover of leather or vel­vet; by the fin­i­sher,
who orna­ment­ed the cover with gil­ding and enamel. The an­‐
nexed il­lus­tra­tion of book­bind­ing, pub­lished by Amman in his
Book of Trades , puts before us many of the imp­le­ments still in
use. The for­warder, with his cus­to­mary apron of leather, is in
the fore­ground, ma­king use of a plow-knife for trim­ming the
edges of a book. The lying-press which rests obliquely against
the block before him contains a book that has received the
operation of backing-up from a queer-shaped hammer lying
upon the floor. The workman at the end of the room is sewing
together the sections of a book, for sewing was properly
regarded as a man’s work, and a scientific operation altogether
beyond the capacity of the raw seamstress. The work of the

finisher is not represented,
but the brushes, the
burnishers, the sprinklers
and the wheel-shaped
gilding tools hanging
against the wall leave us
in no doubt as to their use.
There is an air of antiquity
about everything
connected with this
bookbindery which
suggests the thought that
its tools p154 and usages
are much older than those
of printing. Chevillier says
that seventeen Medieval Bookbinding. ♠
professional bookbinders [From Jost Amman.]

found regular employment
in making up books for the University of Paris, as early as
1272. [anc150b] Wherever books were produced in quantities,
bookbinding was set apart as a business distinct from that of
copying.
The poor students who copied books for their own use were
also obliged to bind them, which they did in a simple but ef­fic­‐
ient man­ner, by sewing to­geth­er the fold­ed sheets, at­taching
them to nar­row parch­ment bands, the ends of which were made
to pass through a cover of stout parch­ment, at the joint near the
back. The ends of the bands were then pasted down under the
stif­fening sheet of the cover, and the book was pressed. Some­‐
times the cover was made flex­i­ble by the omis­sion of the stif­‐
fen­ing sheet; some­times the edges of the leaves were pro­tect­ed
by flex­i­ble and over­hang­ing flaps which were made to project
over the covers; or by the insertion in the covers of stout leather

strings with which the two
covers were tied together.
Ornamentation was
entirely neglected, for a
book of this character was
made for use and not for
show. These methods of
binding were mostly
applied to small books
intended for the pocket:
the workmanship was
rough, but the binding was
strong and serviceable.
p155

The Medieval Illuminator. ♠
[From Jost Amman.]

Books of larger size, made for the lecturn, were bound up in
boards—not an amalgamation of hard-pressed oakum, tar, and
paper-pulp, but veritable boards of planed wood, which were
never less than one-quarter inch, and sometimes were two
inches in thickness.69 The sheets encased in these boards were
gathered in sections usually of five double leaves. The sections
were sewed on rounded raw-hide bands protected from cutting
or cracking by a braided casing of thread. A well-bound
medieval book is a model of careful sewing: the thread,
repeatedly passed in and out of the sections and around the
bands, sometimes diagonally from one corner of the book to the
other, is caught up and locked in a worked head at the top and
bottom of the back. The bands, often fan-tailed at their ends,
were pasted and sometimes riveted in the boards. The joints
were protected against cracking by broad linings of parchment.

For a book that might receive rough usage, and that did not
require a high ornamental finish, hog-skin was selected as the
strongest and most suitable covering for the boards. The covers
and the back were decorated by marking them with fanciful
patterns, lightly burnt in the leather by heated rolls or stamps,
from patterns and by processes substantially the same as those
used in manufacturing modern accountbooks. For a book
intended to receive an ornamentation of gilded work, calf and
goat-skin leathers were preferred. The gilding was done with
care, elaborately, artistically, with an excess of minute
decoration that is really bewildering, when one considers the
sparsity and simplicity of the tools in use. To protect the gilding
on the sides, the boards were often paneled or sunk in the
centre, and the corners, and sometimes the entire outer edges of
the cover, were shielded with thick projecting plates of brass or
copper. A large boss of p156 brass in the centre, with smaller
bosses or buttons upon the corners, was also used to protect the
gilding from abrasion. On the cheaper books, bound in hog-
skin, iron corners and a closely set studding of round-headed
iron nails were used for the same purpose. To prevent the
covers from warping outward, two clasps of brass were
attached to the covers.

A Sumptuously Bound Book.70 ♠
[From Chambers.]

The book thus bound was too weighty to be held in the hand;
it was so full of angles and knobs that it could not be placed
upon a flat table without danger of scratching it. For the safety
of the book and the convenience of the reader, it was necessary
that the book should be laid on an inclined desk or a revolving
lecturn, provided with a ledge for holding it up and with
holdfasts for keeping down the leaves. The lecturn was really
required for the protection of the reader. Petrarch, when reading
an unwieldy volume of the Epistles of Cicero , which he held in
his hands, and in which he was p157 profoundly interested,
repeatedly let the book slip and fall, and so bruised his left leg
that he feared, for some time, that he would have to submit to
its amputation.

When the book was not in use, it was laid sidewise on the
shelf with the flat side fully exposed, showing to best advantage
the beauty of the binding. Its metal-studded sides prevented it
from being stood upright on the shelf. The book made for
common use was frequently covered with oak boards banded
with iron. When exposed in church, it was secured to a post or
pillar with a chain.

A Medieval Book with Covers of Oak. ♠
[From Chambers.]
The mortise in the cover to the left was for the
insertion of the hand when the book was held up for
reading.

The ornamented cover of the sumptuous book was even more
resplendent than its illuminated text. Gilders, jewelers,
silversmiths, engravers, and painters took up the work which
the binder had left, and lavished upon it all the resources of
their arts. A copy of the Evangelists presented by Charlemagne
to a church in France, was covered with plates of gold and
silver, and studded with gems. To another church the pious

sister of Charlemagne gave a book glittering with precious
stones, and with appropriate engraving upon a great agate in the
centre of the cover. We read of another book of devotion
covered with plates of selected ivory, upon which was
sculptured, in high relief, with questionable propriety, an
illustration of the Feast of Bacchus. The Cluny Museum at
Paris contains two book-covers of enameled brass, one of
which has on the cover a very elaborate engraving of the
Adoration of the Wise Men. Books like these called for the
display of a higher degree of p158 skill than could be found in
monasteries. The mechanics who were called in to perfect the
work of the copyists soon became familiar with all the details
of book-making. Little by little they encroached on the
province of the copyist, and in time became competent to do all
his work.
During the twelfth century the eccles­ias­ti­cal mon­o­po­ly of
book-mak­ing be­gan to give way. Lit­er­ary work had grown irk­‐
some. The church had se­cured a po­si­tion of sup­rem­acy in tem­‐
por­al as well as spir­i­tual mat­ters; it had grown rich, and showed
dis­re­gard for the spir­i­tual and ed­u­ca­tion­al means by which its
suc­ces­ses had been made. It began to enjoy its pros­per­ity. The
ne­glect of books by many of the priests of the thir­teenth cen­tury
was auth­or­ized by the ex­ample and pre­cepts of Fran­cis d’As­‐
sisi, who suf­fered none of his followers to have Bible, breviary
or psalter. This new form of asceticism culminated in the es­tab­‐
lish­ment of the order of the Mend­icant Friars, which, in its
earlier days, was wonder­ful­ly popular. Found­ed for the pur­pose
of supplying the spiritual admin­is­tra­tions which had been sadly
ne­glected by the beneficed clergy, who were not only ignorant
but corrupt,71 the new order ultimately p159 became even more
neglectful of duty, more ignorant and more immoral. The
leaders of the friars were men of piety, and some of them, dis­re­‐
garding the precept of the zealous founder of the order, were

students and col­lectors of
books; but the inferior clergy,
with few ex­cep­tions, were ex­‐
tremely ignorant. They not
only exerted a mis­chiev­ous
influence upon the people, but
they showed to priests of other
orders that the know­ledge to
be had from books was not
really necessary. The class of
monks who had devoted their
lives to the copying, binding
and orna­ment­ing of books,
imitated as far as they could
the example set by the
pleasure-loving, ignorant
friars, and sought oppor­tun­‐
Book-Cover in Ivory, Byzantine Style. ♠
ities for re­lax­at­ion.72 The care
[From Berjeau.] of libraries was neglected for
pleasures of a grosser nature.
The duties of copyists and librarians passed, gradually and
almost imper­cep­tibly, into the hands of the laity.
The business of selling books, which had been given up
during the decline of the Roman empire, re-appeared in the
latter part of the twelfth century in the neighborhood of the new
Italian universities of Padua and Bologna. To have the privilege
of selling books to the students, the booksellers were p160
obliged to submit to a stringent discipline. The restrictive
legislation of the University of Paris, for four centuries the
greatest school of theology and the most renowned of the
European universities, may be offered as a suitable illustration
of the spirit shown to booksellers by all the schools of the
middle ages. Through its clerical teachers, the church claimed

the right to control the making, buying and selling of books. It
extended its authority over parchment-makers, bookbinders,
and every other class of mechanics that contributed in any way
to their manufacture. The rules made by this university reveal
many curious facts concerning book-making, and teach us, as a
recent imperialist author has truly said, that the censorship of
books is older than printing.
We command that the stationers,73 vulgarly called booksellers, shall each year, or
every other year, as may be required by the university, take oath to behave
themselves honestly and faithfully in all matters concerning the buying, keeping or
selling of books. In the year 1342, they were required, touching the price of books, to
tell the truth, pure and simple, and without deceit or lying.
No bookseller could buy a book for the purpose of sale, until it had been exposed
for five days in the Hall of the University, and its purchase had been declined by all
the teachers and scholars.
The prices of books sold by the booksellers were fixed by four master booksellers
appointed by the university. Any attempt to get a higher price entailed a penalty. No
one could buy or sell books, or lend money on them, without a special permit from
the university.
The profit of the bookseller upon the sale of a book was fixed at four deniers when
sold to a teacher or scholar, and six deniers when sold to the public.
No pots-de-vin , or drink-money, nor gratuities of any kind, were to be exacted by
the bookseller in addition to the fixed price.
Books should be made correct to copy, and be sold as correct in good faith. The
bookseller should be required to make an oath as to their entire accuracy. Whoever
sold incorrect books would be obliged to make the corrections, and would be
otherwise punished. p161
No bookseller should refuse to lend a book to the student who wished to make a
new copy from it, and who offered security and complied with the terms fixed by the
university.74

Seal of the Masters and Scholars of the University of Paris. ♠
[From Lacroix.]

Before any newly written book could be offered for sale, it must be submitted to
the rector of the university, who had the power to suppress it,75 or correct it, and
who, if it was approved, fixed its price. p162

It does not surprise us to learn that the stationers did not
thrive. Under the hard pressure of taxation and censorship, the
imposition of arbitrary prices and compulsory loans, they found
it very difficult to earn a living. They were obliged to add
another business to that of book-publishing. A few became
notaries; some sold furs, while their wives in the same shop
sold “fripperies and like haberdashery”; others became the
dressers of parchments and binders of books. Against these
innovations the regents of the university made unavailing
protest, severely censuring the base booksellers who “did not
uphold the dignity of their profession, but who mixed it up with

vile trades.” But the necessities of the half-starved booksellers
compelled the university to overlook the offense.
The best and largest books of the stationers were always of a
theological nature. In a list given by Chevillier of the books
sold in the fourteenth century by the booksellers to the
university, are found in the foremost place, books on the Canon
Law , the Homilies of St. Gregory , the Book of Sacraments , the
Confessions of St. Augustine , the Homilies of St. Augustine , the
Compendium of Thomas Aquinas ,76 and St. Thomas on
Metaphysics , on Physics , on Heaven and Earth , on the Soul .
Copies of the Gospels or the Scriptures, or even of the works of
classical authors, were not in high request. The most popular
books were elementary works on grammar and philosophy, for
the use of students, and devotional works like creeds,
catechisms, and prayers, which were largely bought by the
more pious part of the people that were able to read.
The copyists made books for the more ignorant priests,
books containing a synopsis of Christian faith and doctrine, or
descriptions of important events recorded in the Scriptures. As
an additional refreshment of the memory, and to make them
more enticing to the buyer, these books were profusely
illustrated with pen-and-ink drawings. The Bible of the Poor ,
and the Mirror of Man’s Redemption , afterward popular as p163
printed books, are favorable specimens of a class of illustrated
manuscripts in common use among the inferior clergy as far
back as the tenth and eleventh centuries. They were sold to the
unlearned of the laity and to friars who could not read, but who
could understand the allegories taught through the pictures. An
increasing fondness for ornamentation and for pictorial
illustration may be noticed among both learned and unlearned.
Manuscripts of every description were adorned with pictures.77
Abstruse theological writings and treatises on geometry and
philosophy were often decked out with floriated borders and

gaudily painted illustrations which would now be considered as
suitable only for children. It would seem that it was through the
pictorial attractions of a book, more than through its text, that
men were led to admire literature.
The copyists made books of small size which were sold to
students for trifling sums. Psalters, with leaves no larger than
the palm of the hand, were sold for a sol. Elementary school-
books, like the Logic of Boethius , were sometimes copied in a
minute style of penmanship, and were still further contracted
with abbreviations until the writing had the appearance of
microscopic stenography. The minute penmanship may be
regarded as evidence of the great scarcity of parchment, and the
abbreviations as indications of the weariness of the writer.
The arbitrary order of the university, which compelled the
booksellers to lend their books to scholars, shows that it was
customary for a student or a poor man of letters to copy the
books he needed. The little books sold for a sol were manifestly
made for readers who could not even buy the vellum p164
required for a book of the usual size. It was necessary that
books sold at this price should be of the cheapest materials, and
that the text should be abbreviated by contractions78 so that it
would occupy but little space. The despised fabric of paper, and
the remnants of vellum rejected by professional copyists after
the skin had been cut up for leaves of folio or of quarto size,
were cheerfully accepted by readers who valued a book more
for its contents than for its appearance.
The scarcity of vellum in one century, and its abundance in
another, are indicated by the size of written papers during the
same periods. Before the sixth century, legal documents were
usually written upon one side only; in the tenth century the
practice of writing upon both sides of the vellum became
common. During the thirteenth century, valuable documents
were often written upon strips two inches wide and but three

and a half inches long. At the end of the fourteenth century
these strips went out of fashion. The more general use of paper
had diminished the demand for vellum and increased the
supply. In the fifteenth century, legal documents on rolls of
sewed vellum twenty feet in length were not uncommon. All
the valuable books of the fourteenth century were written on
vellum. In the library of the Louvre the manuscripts on p165
paper, compared to those on vellum, were as one to twenty-
eight; in the library of the Dukes of Burgundy, one-fifth of the
books were of paper. The increase in the proportion of paper
books is a fair indication of the increasing popularity of paper;
but it is obvious that vellum was even then considered as the
more suitable substance for a book of value.
The esteem with which books were regarded by priests and
scholars during the fourteenth century was shared by men of
wealth, who coveted books, not so much for their contents as
for their pictures, and as evidences of wealth and culture. A
remarkable impulse had been given to literature and to the
making of books by the troubadours of Southern France. Their
songs of love and devotion to women, their encomiums of
chivalry, and stories of battle and adventure, which were of
their own age, fresh and full of life, and untainted by the
influence of withered classical models, had most unbounded
popularity in every grade of society. Uncultivated people, who
would have yawned over the reading of Homer or the Odes of
Horace , would listen with a keen delight to the songs of a
Provençal minstrel, or to the reading of romances about
Charlemagne and his Paladins, about Arthur and Merlin, and
the Knights of the Round Table. To men who had regarded
books only as dull treatises about theology, these romances
were revelations of an unsuspected attractiveness in literature.
How much these romances increased the respect for books, and
led to the making of new copies, and to a more general

knowledge of reading and writing, cannot be exactly stated; but
their influence on the people was vastly greater than that of the
books of the schools. During the fourteenth and fifteenth
centuries, books about love and chivalry constituted the greater
part of the secular literature of Europe. The most popular books
of Caxton, the first English printer, and of the early printers of
Paris, were of this character. To the ladies of France, the books
of love and song were especially attractive. It was largely
through their admiration that the workmanship of a new order
of book-makers came in fashion. p166 To please their dainty
tastes, copies were made with refinements of calligraphy never
before attempted; the unwieldy sizes of folio and quarto were
supplanted by small and handy duodecimos, and bindings of a
more delicate character were introduced.
The nature of the new literature, and the effeminate taste of
the newly made class of readers, seemed to call for changes in
the old methods of making books. It was necessary that the
massiveness and barbaric splendor of the monastic books
should be supplanted by workmanship combining elegance,
lightness and delicacy. It was necessary that the illustrations
made for the lady’s missal, or for a book of romance, should be
designed, not by some grim old monk whose imagination had
been cramped by his solitary life, and whose narrowness and
severity were visible in all his workmanship, but by a courtier,
an artist, and man of fashion, who knew the world, who knew
how to please it, and how to paint it. To this class of men, the
forerunners of courtly artists like Durer, Holbein and Rubens,
the manufacture of the new books was intrusted. The new
artists in book-making organized a nicer division of labor, and
supervised and directed the work at every stage of its progress.
A copyist selected for his skill wrote the text in prescribed
places on the sheets, and, by the uniformity of his penmanship,
gave character and connection to the work; one designer

sketched the borders, and another outlined the initials; an
illuminator filled in the outlines with gold-leaf and bright
colors. Then came the artist, or miniaturist, who drew the
illustrations and painted the fine pictures which gave the book
its great charm. The artists were called miniaturists because
their illustrations were miniature pictures, as artistically
designed, and always more carefully painted than larger
paintings made for the adornment of churches, halls and picture
galleries. Avoiding the hard outlines and glaring pigments of
the illuminator, the miniaturist painted in low tints, and with the
nicest attention to harmony of color. The beauty of the work,
which has been but little affected p167 by time, is recognized to
this day. The sheets which had been so artistically painted were
as elegantly bound. They were covered with silk, velvet, satin,
or bright-colored leather, embroidered with gold and pearls,
studded with buttons of gold, banded on the corners with
shields, and secured with clasps of precious metals engraved
and enameled in the very finest style of decorative art.
Admirable as the books are, they do not give us a high opinion
of the intelligence of the artists, nor of the culture of their
owners, for they are full of anachronisms and absurdities in the
pictures and in the text.
This taste for elegant books, which began in the thirteenth
century, became a princely amusement. In 1373, Charles V of
France was the owner of more than nine hundred79 books, most
of which were written on fine vellum, superbly bound, and
adorned with precious stones and clasps of silver or gold. His
brothers fostered the same taste. Philip the Bold, Duke of
Burgundy, gathered around him artists, authors, copyists, and
bookbinders, and established a great library. His son, John the
Fearless, largely increased it, but the most costly additions were
made by Philip the Good, who, at the middle of the fifteenth
century, enjoyed the distinction of possessing the most

magnificent books in Western Europe. Books of equal beauty
were also made in Italy, but there was no part of Europe where
calligraphers, miniaturists and ornamental bookbinders found a
higher appreciation of their skill than in Burgundy and the
Netherlands. Nor did this taste for fine p168 books soon go out
of fashion. The business of making fine manuscript books was
not entirely destroyed by the invention of printing. Lacroix, a
French antiquary,80 has shown us that copyists, illuminators,
designers and painters found employment in the embellishment
of books even as late as the last quarter of the seventeenth
century.
During the middle ages, books of merit were everywhere
sold at enormous prices. Illustrated and illuminated volumes in
elegant bindings seem specially exorbitant, when we consider
the greater purchasing capacity of money. Daunou says, that in
a computation of the value of a large library of the fourteenth
century, the average price of each manuscript book should be
fixed at about 450 francs. Didot says that, of three hundred
books contained in the library at Ratisbon, during the year
1231, the average price of each book was 600 francs. What
proportion should be allowed for binding and illumination is
not stated, but it can be proved that copying could not have
been the labor of greatest expense. In the fourteenth century the
price of copying a Bible at Bologna, exclusive of the value of
binding, parchment and illumination, was 80 Bolognese livres.
In the fifteenth century, the price of copying was steadily
declining, while the prices of illuminating and binding were
increasing.
Books were expensive, not so much through the labor of the
copyist, who did the simplest and cheapest part of the work, but
through the extravagant ornamentation put on p169 them by the
illuminator and the binder. The true office of the book was
perverted. It was regarded, not as a medium of instruction, but

as a means for the display of wealth and artistic tastes. The
reader was really taught to value it more for its dress than for its
substance; the book-maker was most appreciated when he made
books so expensive that they were out of the reach of ordinary
buyers. To the modern book-buyer, the prices asked for books
of size and merit during the middle ages seem excessive, and
especially so when they are contrasted with the prices then paid
for food or labor.81
At the end of the fourteenth century, books of instruction
were larger, more ornamental, and, to the unschooled reader,
more pedantic and more forbidding than ever. We do not find in
them any valuable contributions to knowledge, nor do we
discover in the writers or teachers of the day any disposition to
make knowledge easy to be acquired. The love of great books
during this period, frequently noticed as one of the evidences of
a true revival of literature, is, when critically examined,
evidence only of the artistic tastes of book-buyers and of the
exclusiveness of scholars. So far from paving the way for the
introduction of printing, this trifling with p170 literature was one
of the most formidable impediments in its path. It made
despicable even the thought of an attempt to produce books by
the simpler method of printing, then in its first stage of practical
development.
The princely patrons of literature, the learned doctors of the
universities, the copyists and stationers, the illuminators and
miniaturists, must have seen the playing cards and prints then
sold in all large cities, and, to some extent, must have known
the process by which they were made. But they looked on them
with a pitying contempt for the coarse tastes which could be
satisfied with such rude workmanship. The distance in degrees
of merit between printed playing cards and finely illuminated
manuscript books seemed infinite. If the cards conveyed a
suggestion of the possibility of printed books, the suggestion

was rejected. To the dainty tastes of book-makers printing was
a barbarous trade; to the wealthy book-buyer, a printed book
would have been the degradation of art and literature. One may
look in vain among the book-makers and scholars of the
fourteenth century for any sign that heralded the coming of
printing. Makers and buyers of books seem to have been fully
satisfied with things as they were—with the established
methods of book-making, with the organization of society and
the state of education. And the professed patrons of literature
would have been forever satisfied with this state of affairs.
Under their exclusive patronage, books would have been made
more and more sumptuously, and put more and more out of the
reach of the people.

X

Imperfect Preparation of the People of Southern Europe . . . Repression of Education
in England. Early Gropings after Knowledge by English People . . . The Horn-
Book and Clog . . . Injurious Effects of the Use of Latin in Books . . . Beginnings
of Common Schools . . . Their Usefulness in Germany and Flanders . . .
Indications of Mental Activity in the Arts . . . Favorable Condition of Germany as
Compared with other States . . . Profligacy of the Clergy . . . Growth of Heresy . . .
Early Translations of the Bible . . . Appreciation of Pictures by the Illiterate . . .
The Dance of Death. Neglect of the People by their Constituted Teachers . . .
Growing use of Paper . . . Increase of Self-taught Copyists . . . Guilds of Book-
Makers in the North of Europe . . . Printing as an Aid to Writing . . . Printing
Delayed by Considerations of Expense . . . Could not be Introduced until there
were a Multitude of Readers . . . Books of Pictures preceded Books of Letters.

T O the careless observer of the growth of learning and the
state of the mechanical arts at the beginning of the fifteenth
century, Italy might be regarded as the nation best prepared to
receive and maintain any new method of book-making. The
neatly engraved initial letters in manuscript books, the designs
printed in many colors on woven fabrics, and the extended
manufacture of images and playing cards, prove that the
Italians knew how to print from blocks, and that they had
mechanical skill in abundance. In spite of her civil wars, Italy
was rich and prosperous, and famous all over the world, not

only for her universities and learned men, but p172 for the
cultured tastes of her people. It would appear that all the
conditions for the coming of block-book printing had been
filled, and that its introduction should have followed as a
consequence. But the conditions were only partly met.
To be ultimately successful, it was requisite that printing
should begin with the plainest work, and that it should be
adapted to the demands of very plain people; but the tastes of
Italians were refined, and they could not tolerate rudeness in
any form. With all its skill, wealth and culture, there was in
Italy no true middle class, and, consequently, no suitable basis
for the upholding of an art like xylography. The spirit which
Woltmann has specified as the basis of printing,—“the impulse
to make each mental gain a common blessing,”—was entirely
wanting. As the professional book-makers, who were of the
people, did nothing for the advancement of their order, the
development of Italian printing had to stop with printed cards,
cloths and images. The skill of Italian engravers culminated,
not, as it did in Germany, in popular block-books, but in the
more artistic and exclusive branch of copper-plate printing. The
efforts of Italian scholars to revive the study of classical
authors, however useful they may have been to the people of
other countries, ended in Italy with a widening of the gulf that
separated the ignorant from the educated. For the benefits of
printed books, Italy is indebted to the skill of German printers,
whose early productions had been excluded from Venice at the
petition of her querulous card-makers.
It may seem equally strange that block-book printing was not
invented in Spain, where textile fabrics were printed, and where
paper was more largely made and used than in any portion of
Europe. We there find schools, libraries, and signs of great
mental activity. In poetry, architecture, music and other fine
arts, the people of Spain were as advanced as the French or

Italians. But the love of books, and the culture that comes only
from their study, were not firmly rooted in the life and habits of
common people. The education and social elevation of the few
had been secured at the expense p173 of the many, and literature
and the literary arts had been so refined that they were in decay.
Nothing seems to have been done to pave the way for the
introduction of xylographic printing by attempts to educate the
people.
The intellectual development of France resembled that of
Italy and Spain—it was a development of the literature of the
church, and of effeminate tastes among the wealthy, but from
these the people derived no benefit. France was then passing
through the horrors of what French historians call the “Hundred
Years’ War” with England, during which her population
decreased at an alarming rate, and many of her arts and
industries were irreparably injured. The princes and nobles
were waging against each other a war of treason and
assassination; the peasantry, on whom feudal laws pressed more
severely than they did on any other people, broke out in the
insurrection of the Jacquerie . In 1407, the pope laid the
kingdom under interdict, and the withdrawal of the
ministrations of the church were added to the horrors of civil
and servile war and the miseries of foreign invasion. It was not
a time for cultivating the arts of peace. There is, therefore, no
block-book of the fifteenth century in the French language, and
there is no reason to believe that any block-book printer ever
attempted to establish his business on French territory.
Of all the states of Western Europe, England seems to have
been most unfitted for the reception of printing. There were a
few ecclesiastics who saw the importance of books, and who
tried to found libraries, but the greater part of the clergy were
very ignorant. They would not learn, nor would they allow
common people to be taught. It was unlawful, even as late as

1412, for laborers, farmers and mechanics to send their children
to school. A great opportunity for popular education was
presented in Wickliffe’s translation of the Bible, which could
have been made an effective means for diffusing the knowledge
of letters among a religious people. But in 1415 it was enacted
that they who read the Scriptures in the mother tongue should
be hanged for treason, and burned for heresy. p174

An English Horn-Book. ♠
[From Chambers.]

In spite of all these im­ped­i­ments, there was a slow but pos­i­‐
tive dif­fus­ion of know­ledge among En­glish people. How the
know­ledge was com­mun­i­cat­ed is not clear, for notices of com­‐
mon schools in En­gland, and in­deed on the Con­ti­nent, are in­‐
freq­uent and un­sat­is­fac­tory. We have, how­ever, some curious
rel­ics of the subs­ti­tutes for books used by the people. One of

them is the Horn-Book ,82 by which the chil­dren were taught
their let­ters and the Lord’s Prayer. The en­grav­ing an­nexed rep­‐
re­sents a book that is of no earlier date than the reign of Charles
I, but it is a trust­worthy il­lus­tra­tion of the cons­truc­tion, if not of
the mat­ter, of the horn-books in use in the fif­teenth cen­tury.
Another of these sub­sti­tutes is the Clog , a rude con­tri­vance for
mark­ing the order of coming days, which may be con­sid­ered as
the fore­runner of the print­ed al­manac. p175
The standard of English
education was low, even
in the uni­ver­si­ties. An
eminent Ital­ian man of let­‐
ters, in En­gland in 1420,
complains of the scarcity
of good books, and is not
at all res­pect­ful to English
scholars.84 The Un­i­vers­‐
ities of Ox­ford and Cam­‐
bridge had been es­tab­‐
lished rather more than
three hun­dred years, but
they taught bad Latin.
There were few books of
merit in the English
language: Wick­liffe’s
trans­lation of the Bible,
and the poems of Chaucer,
Lydgate and Gower, are
all that de­serve any notice.
There was, as yet, no The Clog.83 ♠
[From Chambers.]
universally spoken
English lang­uage: French was the lan­guage of the En­glish
nobility and of English courts and books of law, as late as the

year 1362; merch­ants and mer­can­tile com­pa­nies kept their
books in French; boys at school were re­quired to trans­late p176
Latin into French.85 The ha­bit­ual em­ploy­ment of French as the
lan­guage of the no­bil­ity, and of Latin as the language of liter­a­‐
ture, shut the doors of know­ledge on those who spoke En­glish
only. In all coun­tries the el­emen­tary text books of the schools
were in Latin. To learn arith­metic, gram­mar or geography, the
scholar must begin with the study of Latin. The dead language
was the path to all know­ledge: it was a circuitous and a
wearisome path, but it was traveled by every student destined
for the church, or for the profession of law or medicine.
At a very early period the bishops of the Catholic church
tried to establish schools for children, but not so much for the
teaching of secular as of religious knowledge. In the year 800 a
synod at Mentz ordered that parochial priests should establish
schools in all towns and villages to teach letters to children.
These orders were repeated by other councils, but they could be
enforced only in the larger cities. In many rural districts
common schools were entirely unknown. As the clergy grew
corrupt, they were neglected in cities.86 The primary schools
were not always taught by ecclesiastics, but the church claimed
the right to supervise them, and made sure that its doctrines and
dogmas should be fully taught. p177
These schools seem to have been most useful where they
were not overshadowed by great institutions of learning. In the
German countries that bordered on the Rhine, and more
especially in the Netherlands, where there were no universities,
and where the people had a large measure of personal liberty,
we find many evidences of a steady progress in education,87
and of improvement in social condition. The simple teachings
of the schools were received by a plain but utilitarian people
who put the knowledge to practical use. The newly developed
mental activity did not run to waste, as it did in the universities,

in unprofitable metaphysical speculations; it was at once
applied to the varied requirements of art, trade and
manufactures. When printing came, the common people were
fully prepared for it, prepared not only to read books, but to
make them. The invention was developed in proper order, and
was preceded by improvements in mechanical arts.
As illustrations of this mental activity, it is not out of place to
mention some of the many inventions of the men who had
studied books only to aid them in studying things. We find
gunpowder and fire-arms, glass windows and mirrors, clocks
and watches, and numerous contrivances that add to the
comforts of social life, some of which, like the tinning of iron,
and the putting of chimneys to fireplaces, have seemed too
paltry to deserve notice. Trivial as they may seem, when in
contrast with the steam engine and railroad, the chimney and
window were of the highest service as aids in bringing men
from a qualified barbarism to civilization. It cannot be p178
proved that these contrivances were invented in Germany, but it
is certain that they were there appreciated and used when they
were entirely unknown in parts of Europe then supposed to be
much more enlightened.88
The Germans and Flemings were regarded as a boorish
people by the more polished Italians. In the artistic education
that can be acquired only from intimate association with men of
genius and works of art, the Northern people were deficient; but
in the knowledge of useful arts, in originality of invention, in
patience and thoroughness as manufacturers, they were
superior. The Germans made linen, glass, carved wooden-ware,
and useful articles of all kinds needed in home life. In the
construction of fine mechanisms, like clocks and curious
automatons, they had no rivals. The Flemings were celebrated
as weavers, cutlers, goldsmiths, armorers, engravers of silver-
ware, and as carvers of wood and stone. They were more than

skillful mechanics.89 Hubert and John Van Eyck, founders of
the Flemish school of painting, and instructors of eminent
Italian artists, may be regarded as representatives of the
practical Flemish character, for they considered no branch of
the arts of design as unworthy their attention; they painted on
glass as well as on wood or canvas; they illuminated missals,
and, as many bibliographers believe, made designs on wood for
the engravers of block-books. p179
The steady progress made by the people of Flanders and
Germany in arts and manufactures was largely due to their
liberty. They were not altogether exempt from the bondage of
feudalism: there was some discord in Germany, and never-
ceasing strife between the nobles and middle class, but the
German burgher maintained his independence and lived in
comfort.90 The need of peace and personal liberty as
preparations for the introduction of printing may be more
clearly perceived in a glance at the social condition of the
people.
The discontent of common people at their treatment by
constituted authorities was never greater than during the last
twenty years of the fourteenth century. Southern Europe was
afflicted by sanguinary wars, into which the rulers of the people
dragged their unwilling peasantry.91 Armed bands of p180
discharged soldiers roamed about, robbing and murdering at
will. Nobles secure in their castles sent out soldiers to make
forays in adjacent districts, with no more pretext of law than is
claimed by pirates. Outside of large cities there was no safety
for life or property. To add to the general misery, famine
desolated the most fruitful countries, and in some districts, the
awful pestilence of the black death swept away half the
population. Where the suffering was greatest, the people
rebelled, but to no purpose. In France, the insurgents of the
Jacquerie , in 1358, were massacred with savage ingenuity in

cruelty;92 in England, the Wat Tyler revolt of 1385 [anc180] was
put down with violence, and the people were remanded to the
old villeinage.93 In countries where there was no outbreak, a
sullen resentment grew up against all authority, but more
especially against that of the established church. The exactions
and scandalous manners of the superior clergy afforded a
sufficient provocation. There were two popes—one at Rome
and one at Avignon; in many dioceses were rival bishops,
holding authority under the rival popes. The heads of the
church were at enmity with each other, and they ruled over
God’s heritage with the weapons and the spirit of temporal
princes. The tribute of money which had been delayed or
refused by recusant bishops, and the tribute of homage which
had been denied by excommunicated kings or emperors, were
paid in the misery and blood of the people. In the prolonged
disputes between pope and king, and pope and anti-pope, the
pious and loyal, who had been taught to honor those who were
in authority, were unable to discern which of the two
contestants was the true and which the false pope or bishop.
p181 From the teachings of each pretender the good turned
away. The religious sentiment which had been shocked at the
outrageous behavior of the anointed teachers forsook the old
altars. It sought out new faiths and founded new sects.94
The teachers of the new sects were unwittingly preparing the
people for the coming of printing by enforcing the duty of more
careful reading and study of the Holy Scriptures. In the year
1380, Wickliffe completed a translation in English of the entire
Bible. At the beginning of the thirteenth century, copies of a
translation of the Scriptures in Provençal French, made by or
under the direction of Peter Waldo, a wealthy merchant of
Lyons, and the founder of the Waldenses, were circulated in
Burgundy and upon the borders of the Rhine. There were many
new translations, or at least of the gospels and psalms, in other

European languages.95 Men and women p182 gathered together
in secret places to hear them read.96 The timid and irresolute,
alienated from the church, and deterred from frequenting
prohibited associations, set up altars of the most unpretentious
character within their own houses. Too poor to buy books, and
perhaps too ignorant to read them, they sought from the
formschneiders and image-makers the emblems they needed as
visible symbols of their faith. In this hungering after the
instruction or consolation afforded by religious pictures, we see
the origin of the block-books. A growing fondness for pictures
is a marked peculiarity in the intellectual development of the
age. It was not confined to the buyers of printed images: it was
manifested in the paintings on the walls and windows of
magnificent churches, in the pictorial playing cards then in the
hands of all people, gentle and simple, and more than all in the
fearful pictures of the Dance of Death upon the walls of
convents, in the arcades of burying-grounds, and in market-
places and town halls. In these hideous paintings, the saint saw
the necessity of preparation for death; the sinner interpreted
them as an assertion of the equality of all men and the final
punishment of the p184 unjust. In the inexorable impartiality of
the grinning and stalking skeleton who rudely dragged away the
resisting noble and protesting priest, there was a ghastly irony
which was keenly appreciated even by the illiterate.

The Abbot. The Mendicant Friar.
Death despoils the Abbot of his mitre and crozier, He is about to enter his convent with his money-
and drags him away. The Abbot resists, and is box and wallet, when Death seizes him by the
about to throw his breviary at his adversary. cowl, and compels him to leave the world.

The Preacher.
Death, with a stole about his neck, stands behind The Knight.
the Preacher, and holds a jaw-bone over his After escaping perils in numerous combats, the
head, intimating that he is the more forcible Knight ineffectually resists the onset of Death,
teacher. and is vanquished by one thrust of the spear.
Holbein’s Illustrations of the Dance of Death. ♠
[From Douce.]

The signs of awakening intelligence, as manifested in the
general appreciation of pictures, images, playing cards and
books, were entirely disregarded by the authorized teachers of
the age, who could have used the method of xylographic
printing by which images and playing cards were made, and
could have led people from the contemplation of images and
allegories of the Dance of Death ,97 to the study of books and
letters. They had all the means within reach. There were
engravers and printers in Venice in 1400; there is an obscure
notice of image-cutters or engravers on wood in the records of
the fraternity of St. Luke in Paris98 for the year 1391. But p185
neither the doctors of the universities nor the book-makers of
Paris ever attempted to print books or pictures. Nor can it be
shown that any one of the many persons laboring for the revival
of literature at the beginning of the fifteenth century had
anything to do with printing. The significance of this fact
should be fairly considered, for it is the proper explanation of
the curious and childish literature of the block-books which
followed the printed images.

Reduced Fac-simile of the Dance of Death, as shown in the Nuremberg ♠
Chronicle.
[Photographed from Mr. Bruce’s Copy.]

Early printed work was the outgrowth, not of scholarship, but
of comparative ignorance. The first block-printers were men
outside the pale of literature, and not indebted to any school or
scholar for the suggestion of printing. The first merchantable
products of printing on paper were not books, but playing cards
and images. The earliest purchasers of p186 printing were men
who could neither read nor write. The card-makers, who
labored for the amusement of boyish tastes, were the ignorant
nurses of an art which has preserved the learning of the world.
They have had grand success. The once despised fabric of
paper has displaced vellum; types do the work of reed and pen,
and the work of perpetuating the literature of the world is done
by mechanics.99 Nor has this great revolution been restricted to

mechanical processes in book-making. Medieval books are
more than out of date: they are dead, beyond all revival. They
are known to book-lovers chiefly by reputation. The writings of
Anselm, Dun Scotus, Abelard, Peter Lombard, Albertus
Magnus, Thomas Aquinas and Ockham, are read only through
curiosity; they are as obsolete as the works of the old Greek
philosophers.100
Although much had been done to prepare Germany and
Flanders for the reception of printing, one thing was lacking.
Printing waited for a wise appreciation of the utility of paper.
For centuries paper had been regarded as a plebeian writing
surface, unfitted for books, but good enough for shopkeepers,
mechanics, and children who had or sought a smattering of
education. It was necessary that the prejudices in favor of
vellum should be uprooted, and that the practical superiority of
paper should be recognized by men of higher authority than
card-printers or poor scholars. This change in fashion was
effectually made by the rich merchants of Flanders and
Germany. The paper rejected of professional book-makers was
not so strong nor so attractive as parchment, but it was flexible,
durable, and much cheaper. There was no legislative
intermeddling with its sale101 as there had been with
parchment. p187 Everybody was free to buy and use it at his
pleasure. The consequences of this contemptuous abandonment
of paper to the people, who were supposed to be almost unfit to
use it, were unexpected. Those who knew how to read and
write found in paper a ready means of communicating their
knowledge. The number of readers grew. With this increase of
readers came also an increase of self-taught copyists and of
unprofessional book-makers. In the commercial cities, where
copyists were not subjected to the censorship of the
universities, the practice of making books became as common
as it had been exclusive. Book-making became a distinct trade,

and shops were established for the sale of alphabets, primers,
prayer books, creeds, and elementary text books for schools, all
adapted, both in price and in subject, to the very humblest
readers.102 The names of some nooks and corners in London,
Paternoster Row, Creed Lane, Amen Corner, Ave Maria Lane,
show that these were the places in that city where manuscripts
of a religious character were largely made and sold.
As the sale of these books and tracts increased, Northern
copyists combined with each other for purposes of mutual
protection, after the usage of all the tradesmen of the middle
ages. We find a mention of the existence of the Company of
Stationers of London in 1405. There were guilds of book-
makers at Augsburg in 1418, at Nordlingen in 1428, at Ulm in
1441, at Antwerp in 1441, at Bruges in 1454. These are the
years in which the guilds were first mentioned; but it is
probable they were incorporated at earlier dates. The p188 book-
making fraternities of St. Luke, in Venice and in Paris, were
constituted of copyists, calligraphers, illuminators and
bookbinders; but the more practical Northern guilds admitted to
membership printers and engravers, and every worker, however
humble his work, who contributed to the making of a book. But
this combination of copyists with engravers and printers did not
at once lead to the printing of books. It did no more than pave
the way for its introduction, by making people familiar with
paper and printing. For a long time the workmanship of the
rival arts was kept distinct; the copyist transcribed books, while
the printers made images. But the time came when the copyist
had to ask help from the printer.
The printing of books began, not as an independent art, but
as an aid to the art of writing. A publisher103 of London recently
described and offered for sale a curious old book, partly printed
and partly written, which illustrates the close alliance of labor
once maintained between the copyist and the engraver. He

describes the book as a folio of 17 leaves of vellum, on which
are printed 69 engravings, twelve of them bearing legends,
“representing scenes of Christian mythology, figures of
patriarchs, saints, devils, and other dignitaries of the church, all
colored and illuminated with oxidized gold, impressed in the
midst of a manuscript text in German.” The engravings of this
book are small, about 3 inches long and 2 1⁄ 4 inches broad.
They are enclosed by a double border of black lines, and are
printed on the left side of the page. The designer of the
illustrations was obviously an inexpert, not accustomed to
drawing the letters of the inscriptions in reverse order on the
block, for some of the letters are turned the wrong way. The
engravings were printed before the descriptive text was written.
The language of the text, old High German, contains obsolete
words which were out of use before typography was invented.
Quaritch attributes this p189 book to unknown monks of
Southern Germany, “about the year 1400.” This copy of the
Weekly Meditations is a favorable specimen of the combined
workmanship of the copyist and the printer; but it is not the
only one. Copies or fragments of manuscript books104 with
printed illustrations are in the British Museum, and in many
European libraries.
These specimens of book-making during the period of its
transition from writing to printing, give us some notions of the
estimation in which the process of printing was held by the men
who manufactured chap-books. It does not appear that they
made use of printing because they thought it was a labor-saving
process. They used it mainly, if not entirely, to supplement the
deficient skill of the copyist. It was then as it is now—many
could write, but few could draw. If the copyist who wrote the
text had been competent to draw, the pictures would not have
been engraved. Nor would these engravings have been made
for one nor even for one dozen copies. We may properly

suppose that enough copies were printed to justify the expense
of engraving.
While it was expedient to engrave the pictures, it was
inexpedient to engrave the text of a book. In many books, the
letters constituted the largest part of the work, and to the
engraver it was the more difficult part—the expense of
engraving would more than offset all the advantages that might
have been gained from printing. A full suite of blocks for the
text would cost more than the writing of a hundred copies. To
the stationer who could sell but few books, xylographic printing
was not an economical process: the preliminary cost of
engraving was too great. It would be an extravagant estimate to
assume that the writer of the Weekly Meditations made one
hundred copies of this book; but one p190 hundred copies would
have been an edition much too small to justify the engraving of
its text of seventeen pages. We must accept this as the reason
why printing was so sparingly used by the early book-makers.
They did not engrave blocks and print books, because there
were not enough book-buyers to warrant the expense. This
feature of printing—its entire dependence upon a very large
number of book-buyers—may require a more extended
explanation.
The small prices for which all popular modern books and
newspapers are sold lead many into the error that printing is,
necessarily and under all circumstances, a much cheaper
method of making books than that of writing. As compared
with writing, presswork, or the operation of impressing the
types on the sheet, is much the quicker and cheaper process; but
presswork is not the main branch of the art of printing. Before
one impression can be taken, or one copy be made, types must
be composed or blocks engraved at very great expense. The
composition and stereotyping of the pages of an ordinary
duodecimo book may be worth six hundred dollars. On an

edition of ten copies the cost of such a book would be, for
making plates only, sixty dollars per copy. If there were but one
hundred copies, the expense of the plates would be six dollars
per copy. Under these conditions few books would be
published. But if an edition of one thousand copies should be
printed, the cost of the plates would be only sixty cents a copy.
In this instance, printing would be much cheaper than writing,
but this reduced rate would not necessarily justify the expenses
of printing. The risk of sale must be hazarded. No publisher
would undertake at his own risk to print even one thousand
copies,—much less a smaller number,—if he did not fully
believe that the edition could be promptly sold. But the early
book-maker did not have this confident belief in large and
speedy sale. There were, comparatively, few book-buyers, and
the publication of a book by the method of engraving and
printing must have seemed very hazardous speculation. p191
It can be clearly seen that the cost of printing a book is in
inverse ratio with the number printed. When the number is
small, the cost per copy is great; when the number is great, the
cost per copy is small. Printing is an economical process only
for books of many copies. If there were not a very great number
of book-readers and book-buyers, printing could not be
practised to advantage.
In the fourteenth century this multitude of book-readers had
not been created. One hundred copies would have been
considered a great edition, and the engravers or printers who
took such a hazard would have waited many years for
purchasers. Their unwillingness to take an unwise risk has been
often regarded as an evidence, not of their sagacity, but of their
stupidity. There are writers who have taught that the project of a
printed book was a grand conception, not to be imagined by
any but a great inventor—an idea far above the capacity of any
printer of playing cards or images; but the legends in the image

prints teach us that the early engravers knew how to engrave
the letters, and that they could have engraved entire books of
letters if they had thought it expedient. The advantages or
disadvantages of engraving books were considered by them as
they would be by publishers of our own time, purely as an
economical question. The early engravers decided that books of
letters could be appreciated, and would be purchased, only by
the educated, a class too small to reward the labor of the
engraver. For the making of books, printing was not regarded as
an economical process, and books were consequently made by
the cheaper process of writing.
While it was unprofitable to engrave letters for books, it was
profitable to engrave designs for printed fabrics, images and
playing cards. On work of this character, the relations of cost
and sale were completely reversed. The expenses for engraving
one design, one image, or one suite of cards, was small; but the
sale of the work printed from the blocks was generally very
large. Fabrics that could be worn, cards that p192 could amuse,
and images that would serve as decorations or as aids to
devotion, had attractions for all people, and especially for the
poor and illiterate. Whoever printed merchandise of this nature
could rightfully expect that it would be sold in such large
quantities that the cost of engraving would be inappreciable.
The world was not ready at the beginning of the fifteenth
century to apply its knowledge of printing with ink to the
making of books. It was regarded as too expensive a process. It
bided its time, waiting for more readers and book-buyers, for
paper in greater supply and of better quality, for higher skill on
the part of the engravers, printers and ink-makers. If there were
no other evidences than those afforded by the partly printed and
written books, it could be safely assumed that when the early
engravers did begin to print books, they would be, not books of
letters, but books of pictures.

XI

General Appreciation of Pictures . . . Beginning of the Block-Books . . . Popularity
during the Fifteenth Century . . . Neglected afterward . . . Childish in Character . . .
The Bible of the Poor . . . Its Age as a Manuscript . . . Its Popularity . . . The First
Edition . . . Its Designs and Engravings . . . Explanations of Fac-similes . . .
Description of Printing . . . Not Printed by the Frotton . . . Anachronisms in Design
. . . Dissimilarity of the Copies . . . Blocks destroyed in 1488 . . . Price of Copies
. . . Description of German Edition of 1470 . . . The Apocalypse . . . Description of
Illustrations . . . Probably of German Origin . . . The Canticles . . . Description of
Fac-simile . . . Its Anachronisms . . . Its object . . . Quality of Engraving . . . The
Story of the Blessed Virgin . . . Its Object . . . Description of Fac-simile . . . Its
Absurdities . . . Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer . . . Description of Fac-simile . . .
Singular Perversion of the Prayer . . . The Book of Kings . . . Description and Fac-
simile . . . The Grotesque Alphabet . . . A Mysterious Book . . . The Apostles’
Creed . . . The Eight Rogueries.

T H E sumptuary laws of the middle ages, which were made to
restrain common people from imitating the dress and equipage
of the nobility, were not extended to the making of books. The
copyist or calligrapher was at liberty to decorate books
according to his own fancy. There was no occasion for res­tric­‐
tive leg­i­sla­tion. The admirable romances and books of prayer
upon which the miniaturist had lavished his talents were
beyond the skill of the vulgar copyist and beyond the means of

the plebeian book-buyer. Only an artist could paint them; only a
prince or patrician could buy them. But these books, although
far removed from the multitude by price and rarity, were not
above the capacity of the ordinary reader. The illiterate man
who could find no attraction in a book of letters would readily
acknowledge the charm of the pictures p194 in a book like the
Bedford Missal . In this universal appreciation of pictures, some
of the early engravers of cards and images saw an opportunity.
Men who would not buy books of letters would buy books of
pictures. Books of the latter class were not only sure of sale, but
they could be engraved on blocks at a comparatively small
expense. They could be printed in quantities much more
cheaply, and, above all, with more accuracy and uniformity
than they could be drawn by hand. They could be painted or
illuminated by stencil plates, and made acceptable to men of
simple tastes. Here was the beginning of the block-books.
The term Block-Book is used to define the book printed
entirely from engraved blocks, in contradistinction to the book
printed from movable types. Bibliographers divide the block-
books in two distinct classes: books of pictures without text, in
which words descriptive of the picture are engraved at the foot
of the page, or in cartouches proceeding from the mouths of the
principal figures; and books of pictures with text, in which the
explanations of the pictures are given in the form of a full page
of text, which was commonly printed on the page opposite the
picture.
It is admitted by all writers on typography that block-books
of both classes were made before and after the invention of
typography. That they were manufactured in large quantities by
many printers, and in many cities or towns, during the fifteenth
century, does not admit of doubt. It is claimed by one
bibliographer that there are eight editions of the Ars Moriendi ;
by others, that there are six editions each of the Bible of the

Poor and of the Apocalypse , and four of the Mirror of Man’s
Redemption . In some instances, the so-called later editions are
reprintings, with slight alterations, of the same blocks that were
used for the first edition; in other instances, the later editions
were printed from blocks newly engraved. The number and
variety of the editions are proof that there must have been a
very large demand for the books; the alterations in the
engravings are presumptive evidence of p195 repairs to blocks
badly worn by long use; the newly engraved blocks are
evidently the replacement of a suite completely worn out; an
edition different from the others in design may be accepted as
the work of a rival or competing printer.
The few block-books known in the seventeenth century were
regarded by bibliographers as prejudicial to the claims of
contestants for the honor of the invention of typography. They
were annoying facts which could neither be rejected nor
accepted without hurt to favorite theories. There was a
disposition on all sides to belittle them in number as well as in
importance. The first writer who called attention to their value
as relics could describe but nine block-books. Sotheby, writing
about them in 1858, described in the Principia Typographica
twenty-one block-books—not different editions of a few books,
but twenty-one distinct works. Even with these additions, the
list cannot be considered complete: it is possible that more will
yet be found, but it is certain that many have been irretrievably
lost.
The neglect of the block-books by early librarians seems
almost justifiable when we consider their great inferiority to the
typographic books that followed them. From a literary point of
view, they were of no importance as works of instruction or
authority. They were published during the fifteenth century, but
they really belong to the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, during
which period most of them were composed. The legends that

explain their illustrations were written in Latin, but they are
adapted to readers in a child-like state of development. It is not
strange that they should have been put aside by the world when
it had outgrown them. Childish as these books are, they are of
high value to those who wish to note the growth of printing.
They indicate the attainments of their authors and readers, and
the artistic abilities of their designers and engravers. They show
the quality of the paper, ink, and workmanship of the period.
They prove that the art of printing from blocks was practised by
many persons during the second and third quarters of the
fifteenth century. p198

Fac-simile of the Last Page of the Bible of the Poor. ♠
see larger

THE BIBLIA PAUPERUM, OR BIBLE OF THE POOR.

This is the most famous and the most creditable specimen of
the early block-book.105 The title, Bible of the Poor , seems to

have been used at an early period to distinguish it from the
Bible proper, a fair manuscript copy of which was sold in
France, in the year 1460, for five hundred crowns of gold. The
Bible proper, as then made, in two or more stout folio volumes
of fine vellum, was the Bible of the rich; its epitome, in the
shape of the book of forty pages of engravings, about to be
described, was the Bible of the poor.
The author of the Bible of the Poor is unknown, but the
designer of the illustrations was not the writer of the texts that
explained the designs. There are frequent incongruities between
the words and the pictures, which fully show that the author did
not always understand the intent of the artist. It is probable that
the illustrations were made first, and that, in the beginning, the
Bible of the Poor was a book of pictures only.106 Some German
antiquarians say that the book, in its p199 original form, was
designed and explained by a monk named Wernher, who was
living in 1180, and was famous during his lifetime both as a
painter and a poet. Other German authorities put the origin of
the first manuscript as far back as the ninth century, attributing
the work to Saint Ansgarius, first bishop of Hamburg. It seems
to have been a popular manuscript, for copies written before the
fifteenth century have been found in many old monasteries.
These copies are not alike. Nearly every transcriber has made
more or less alterations and innovations of his own; but the
general plan of the book—the contrasting of apostles with
prophets, and of the patriarchs of the Old Testament with the
saints of the Christian Church—has been preserved in all the
copies.
At least four distinct xylographic editions—two in Latin and
two in German—of the Bible of the Poor have been
discovered. Three of them were printed in Germany after the
invention of typography.107 The edition acknowledged as the
first,108 and supposed to have been printed before the invention

of types, is in Latin, without date, place, or name of printer.
Those who favor the theory of a German invention of printing
say that it was printed in Germany between the years 1440 and
1460. Those who believe in the priority of Dutch printing say
that it must be regarded as the work of some printer of Holland.
This is the opinion of Berjeau, who republished the book in fac-
simile. He says that the designs for the original editions must
have been made in the Netherlands, probably by Van Eyck,
between 1410 and 1420. p200
The illustration on the preceding page, which is the exact
size of the original, gives a faithful representation of the last
page of the first edition of this curious book.
Unlike most of the block-books, the Bible of the Poor was
designed with architectural symmetry. An open frame-work
divides each page in nine distinct panels or partitions, five of
which are devoted to pictorial illustrations, and four to their
explanation in words. The three large panels in the middle of
the page illustrate historical subjects drawn from the Bible, of
which the central panel is, in theological phrase, the type , and
is taken from the New Testament. The pictures on either side
are known as the antitypes , and are oftenest taken from the Old
Testament. The texts that explain the pictures are placed in the
corners of the page, or in scrolls near the figures.
To most readers the explanatory text is undecipherable. The
obscurity is not only that of a dead language: a trained Latin
scholar will always grope and often stumble in attempting to
make a translation. All the letters are carelessly drawn and cut;
the words are badly spaced, and are deformed with
abbreviations. These faults appear more noticeable when the
letters are contrasted with the designs. Whoever designed the
figures on the wood drew with the bold and free hand of an
artist who had proper confidence in his ability. Whoever
engraved the figures cut the clean firm line that can be made

only by an expert. But the cutting of the letters, although
probably done by the engraver of the figures, is really
barbarous. It is obvious that the designer, skillful as he was with
figures, had no experience in drawing letters, and that the
engraver was equally unsuccessful at a new kind of work.
The text and translation appended are the version of Dr.
Horne, author of the Introduction to the Study of Bibliography ,
who has corrected the contractions of the original Latin. It is
copied from the Typographia of Hansard.
Each page contains four busts—two at the top, and two lower down; together with
three historical subjects. The two upper busts represent certain prophets, or other
eminent persons, whose names are p201 added beneath them. Of the three historical
subjects, the chief type , or principal piece, is taken from the New Testament, and
occupies the centre of the page, between the two antitypes , or subordinate subjects,
which are allusive to it. The two busts, placed in the middle of the upper part of the
page, represent David and Isaiah between two texts of the Bible, with brief
explanations. The former of these, on the left of the Prophets, is from the Song of
Solomon, Chapter iv, 7:

In the fourth chapter of the Song of
Solomon it is read, That the bride­‐
groom ad­dres­ses the bride, and re­‐
ceiv­ing her, says, Thou art all fair, my
love, and in thee is no spot. Come, my
love; come, thou shalt be crowned.
The real bride­groom is Christ, who, in
re­ceiv­ing the bride, which is the soul
with­out spot of sin, also con­ducts her
to eter­nal rest, and crowns her with
the crown of im­mor­tal­i­ty.
The second passage, on the right of David and Isaiah, is partly taken from the
Book of Revelation, and runs thus:

In the twenty-first chapter of the
Revelation it is read, That the Angel
of God took John the Evangelist when
he was in the Spirit, and willing to
show him the mysteries of God, said
to him, Come, and I will show thee
the bride, the wife of the Lamb. The
Angel speaks to every generation, that
they come and hearken to the
bridegroom, the pure Lamb Christ,
crowning innocent souls.
Under the bust of David, which is indicated by his name, is a scroll proceeding
from his hand, inscribed:

Even as a bridegroom cometh out of his
chamber. Ps. XIX, 5.
Beneath the corresponding compartment containing a bust of Isaiah, is the word
Ysaye , and also the ordinal number LXI, referring to the sixty-first chapter of that
prophet; and from the hand of the figure proceeds a label containing:

As a bridegroom, he hath adorned me
with a crown. LXI, 10.
Toward the bottom of the plate are two other busts, similar to those at the top, and
which represent the Prophets Ezekiel and p202 Hosea. From the figure that occupies
the left-hand compartment extends a scroll, at one end of which is the word Œzeciel ,
with a number referring to the twenty-fourth chapter; and in the other part are the
words:

Thy tire shall be bound upon thine head,
and thy shoes upon thy feet. XXIV, 17.
The corresponding scroll, attached to the other figure, contains, at one end, Ozee ,
with a reference to the second chapter; and in the other part are the words:

I will betroth thee unto me forever. II,
19.
In the central compartment, between the upper and lower busts, is depicted the
Type, or principal subject. It represents the reward of righteousness in heaven; the
designer having introduced the Redeemer as bestowing the Crown of Life upon one
of the elect Spirits. The antitype, on the left, is the Daughter of Zion crowned by her
spouse, with the following leonine verse underneath:
O soul divine! it rightly knew,
To have the spouse was glory true.

The other antitype, on the right, represents an Angel addressing St. John, having
beneath it this verse:

And Christ, the bridegroom, far above
Conception, the fair bride doth love.

And in the bottom space is this verse:
Then souls rejoice with great delight,
When given is the diadem bright.

The first edition of the book contains forty engravings on
wood, printed on one side only of the leaf. The prints face each
other; two pages of illustrations are always followed by two
pages of blank paper. The book was put together in sections of
two leaves, a method of making a book contrary to prevailing
usage. Manuscript books of that period were usually made up in
sections of four double leaves, which were nested together in
one section. This deviation from established usage was,
apparently, caused through the error of the engraver, who cut,
on the same block, the two pages which faced each other. It
was, consequently, impossible to nest p203 the leaves, or make
them up in thick sections. Cracks in the wood block, which
have made open seams or white gaps in the print, and which
extend in straight lines over both pages, show conclusively that
two pages were engraved on one block.
The book is without folios or paging figures to guide the
reader, and also without signatures to guide the binder. The
proper order of the pages was made manifest by engraving on
each page a letter of the alphabet. Pages 1 to 20 are marked in
alphabetical order from a to v; pages 21 to 40 have the same
letters, but with a dot before and after each, .a. to .v.
The paper of the fifteen known copies of this edition of the
book is of variable quality. Of itself, this variability is not
sufficient indication that the paper was made by different
makers, and printed at different times, but the different designs
of the paper-marks lead directly to such a conclusion. Some
copies have but one kind of paper-mark; others have two and
three kinds; taking all copies together, there are at least fourteen

distinct paper-marks. If each decided variation of the same
design could be considered the mark of a different maker, the
number could be doubled.
That the substance used for these engravings was wood, is
clearly indicated by the occasional feathering or flatting out of
border-lines, which, when crushed, show the fibres of wood in
the impression. It seems that the engravings were cut on flat
plates or blocks, that had been sawed or split on a line parallel
with the fibres.
The ink is of a dull or rusty-brown color; on some pages
light, and on others of darker tint, rarely ever of uniform tint on
the same page. It has the appearance of a paste or a thick water
color. This unevenness in color was produced by some
imperfect method of inking the block—possibly by a hard-
faced brush which shed color irregularly.
The shining appearance of the backs of the prints, in all
places where the raised lines of the wood-cut have indented the
paper, has been considered as sufficient evidence that the
impressions were taken, not by a press, but by means of a p204
frotton, or by friction, or by rubbing in some form or other. One
writer of rare simplicity has hazarded the opinion that the back
of the paper, or the frotton, may have been soaped to facilitate
the work. But these methods of printing books are imaginary
and entirely impracticable. The shining appearance on the back
of the paper does not prove that the prints were made by
friction. The gloss could have been produced by any press
which gave a hard impression against a harder surface. It could
have been produced by rubbing or smoothing down with a
burnisher the indentations of the lines on the back of the paper,
as is sometimes done by pressmen of this day when they take
too hard an impression. Some copies of the book show the
results of hard impression. Two of the four copies of the Bible
of the Poor in the possession of the British Museum present

lines deeply sunk in the paper, as if they had been printed from
a press. Jackson, a practical engraver on wood, who had large
experience in proving wood-cuts, has unwillingly accepted the
unauthorized tradition of presswork by friction, but he has
candidly stated its difficulties.
“Considering the thickness of the paper on which the block-books are printed—if I
may apply this term to them—and the thin-bodied ink which has been used, I am at a
loss to conceive how the early wood engravers have contrived to take off their
impressions so correctly; for in all the block-books which I have seen, where friction
has evidently been the means employed to obtain the impression, I have noticed only
two subjects in which the lines appear double in consequence of the shifting of the
paper. From the want of body in the ink, which appears in the Apocalypse to have
been little more than water color, it is not likely that the paper could be used in a
damp state, otherwise the ink would run or spread; and even if this did not exist, the
paper in a damp state could not have borne the excessive rubbing which it appears to
have received in order to obtain the impression. Even with such printer’s ink as is
used in the present day—which, being tenacious, renders the paper in taking an
impression by means of friction, much less liable to slip or shift—it would be
difficult to obtain clear impressions on thick paper from blocks the size of those
which form each page of the Apocalypse , or the History of the Virgin . ... A block
containing only two pages [of the History of the Virgin , a block of smaller size than
that used for the p205 Bible of the Poor ] would be about seventeen inches by ten,
allowing for inner margins; and to obtain clear impressions from it by means of
friction, on dry thick paper, and with mere water color ink, would be a task of such
difficulty that I cannot conceive how it could be performed. No traces of points, by
which the paper might be kept steady on the block, are perceptible; and I
unhesitatingly assert, that no wood engraver of the present day could, by means of
friction, take clear impressions from such a block on equally thick paper, and using
mere distemper, instead of printer’s ink. As the impressions in the History of the
Virgin have unquestionably been taken by means of friction, it is evident to me that
if the blocks were of the size that Mr. Ottley supposes, the old wood engravers, who
did not use a press, must have resorted to some contrivance to keep the paper steady
with which we are unacquainted.”109

This last hypothesis of an imaginary contrivance that kept the
paper steady, is as untenable as the proposition that blocks were
unquestionably printed by friction. The feat which is impossible
now was impossible then. There is nothing in the appearance of
the presswork of the block-books really inconsistent with the
theory, that the books were printed under a rude press which
was deficient in many attachments that are needed by the
printer. The peculiar appearance of the presswork of this and of

other block-books will be most satisfactorily explained by the
hypothesis that they were printed on a press. The hypothesis of
printing by friction is a conjecture for which there is no good
authority. It seems to have been invented for a purpose. If the
early chroniclers of printing had not been so anxious to
magnify the merits of the early typographers, and to belittle the
printers of block-books, we should have heard nothing of
printing by friction.
The designs of the first edition have more merit than those of
the earlier manuscript copies—more than those of subsequent
editions printed by imitators. Neither the rudeness of the
engravings, nor the flagrant anachronisms in architecture and in
the costumes of the figures, are gross enough to conceal the
ability of the designer, whose skill in grouping figures is
manifest on almost every page. p206
The illustrations have merit, but they are in the realistic and
commonplace style of the designers of Germany and of
Flanders during the fifteenth century. The want of ideality is
painful. The designer certainly had no thought of irreverence,
but many of the designs are really ludicrous. Some of the
anachronisms are: Gideon arrayed in plate armor, with
medieval helmet and visor and Turkish scimitar; David and
Solomon in rakish, wide-brimmed hats bearing high conical
crowns; the translation of Elijah in a four-wheeled vehicle
resembling the modern farmer’s hay-wagon. Slouched hats,
puffed doublets, tight-legged breeches and pointed shoes are
seen in the apparel of the Israelites who are not represented as
priests or soldiers. Some houses have Italian towers and some
have Moorish minarets, but in none of the pictures is there an
exhibition of pointed Gothic architecture. The old Dutch stair-
like gable is often delineated, and so is the round arch and
latticed window of the Flemish house of the fourteenth century.
With all its absurdities, this edition of the Bible of the Poor

commanded the respectful attention of great artists like Albert
Durer and Lucas von Leyden, who did not scruple to
appropriate many of its designs.
One of the most puzzling peculiarities of the first edition of
the Bible of the Poor is the dissimilarity of the copies. In some
copies the dissimilarity is in the details of the frame-work; in
others, it is in the foliage of trees, but it is, for the most part,
confined to a few immaterial points. These differences seem to
warrant the opinion stated by Sotheby that there were six
distinct editions, each printed from a separate set of blocks; but
this opinion cannot be reasonably defended. In all important
features the copies are alike. The pages of the so-called
different editions have the marks, even in little blemishes, of
impressions from the same block—a uniformity which could
not have been produced if each block had been re-engraved for
each new edition. Why the various copies of the book should be
alike in important, and unlike in minor features, cannot be
explained. It has been suggested that the p207 dissimilarities are
the evidences of accident and repair; that when the block was
injured, it was plugged, as is frequently done with wood-cuts in
our own day, and the newly inserted plug was re-engraved with
a new design. The explanation is not plausible. The differences
generally appear in the same relative position on every page,
and there are too many of them to be attributed to accident;
they seem to have been made for some unknown purpose.
Irregularities of like nature have been noticed in copies of the
typographic books of the fifteenth century which are known to
be of the same edition.
We do not certainly know when and where these blocks were
engraved, but we do know when they were destroyed. Two
books, published by Peter Van Os of Zwoll, in Holland, in 1488
and 1489, contain seventy-seven engravings on wood which
were certainly cut from the blocks that had been used to print

the original edition of the Bible of the Poor . To get the little
cuts he needed to illustrate texts of movable type, Van Os must
have partly destroyed the original blocks. In this act of
destruction, we have a fact and a date which give a clue to the
origin of the book. Copies of the first edition in folio form must
have been printed before 1488. At this date, and perhaps for
some time before, the blocks in folio form had no mercantile
value; there was no longer any demand for the book in the
neighborhood in which it had been made. That the country in
which this first edition was printed and sold was Holland,
seems probable when we find that the blocks were used for the
last time, and in a mutilated form, in a town of Holland. This
opinion is strengthened by the facts that the Bible of the Poor
in folio form was then, and afterward, a salable book in
Germany and in other countries, but it was not subsequently
reprinted in the Netherlands in any form. The Dutch and
Flemish architectural features in the designs, and the legends
which attribute the work to Dutch engravers and printers, are of
themselves unsatisfactory evidences of the origin of the book;
but they cannot be entirely overlooked. They lead to the
conclusion that the book was printed in p208 Holland, but they
do not fix the date of printing, which may have been as early as
the year 1425, or as late as 1450.110
The illustration on the following page is a fac-simile, but
reduced in size, of the first page of the edition published in the
year 1470, at Nordlingen, by Walther and Hurning. The panel in
the centre of this fac-simile represents the Annunciation; on the
left is the Temptation of Eve; on the right is Gideon with the
Fleece. The busts at the top are those of Isaiah and David; at the
foot, Hezekiah and Jeremiah. This edition, like the one
previously noticed, was printed in rusty brown ink upon one
side of the paper. The adherence of the printers to a rough
method of printing seems strange when we consider that

typographic books, printed with black ink and on both sides of
the paper, were then known and sold in every part of civilized
Europe. Walther and Hurning were, probably, printers of cards
and images who tried to compete with typography.111
Incompetent to practise the new art, and unable to make fine
books, they made a German translation of the Bible of the
Poor , and tried to sell it to German people. The Nordlingen
edition is an obvious imitation of the Latin edition previously
described, but it is a very feeble imitation. The designer was
incompetent to his task, and the engraver was clumsy. The
workmanship of this book is one of many p210 evidences which
might be offered to prove that coarseness of engraving in
undated block-books is by no means proof of their greater age.
The facts point the other way. The block-books which contain
engravings of high merit are, as a rule, the oldest; those made in
the third or fourth quarter of the fifteenth century show decided
decline in skill. Mean as this book is, it does not fully show the
degradation that printing subsequently suffered from the hands
of unskillful engravers.

First Page of the Bible of the Poor as made by Walther and Hurning of ♠
Nordlingen, 1470.
The size of this print, in the original, is 7 by 10 1⁄ 8 American inches.
[From Heineken.]

THE APOCALYPSE OF ST. JOHN.

This is the name of an early block-book almost as famous as
the Bible of the Poor , and of which there are at least six distinct
xylographic editions. Some of them have fifty, and others have
forty-eight leaves, printed upon one side only of the leaf. The
dissimilarities in the designs and the engraving of these editions
are decided and unmistakable: they are, no doubt, impressions
from different suites of blocks, and each edition may be
regarded as the work of a different printer.
As a literary production, the Apocalypse has small merit. It is
not, as might be supposed, the text or an abridgment of the
Book of Revelation . It is, in fact, only a book of pictures, and
these pictures in many points border very closely on the
ridiculous. One cannot shut his eyes to the ludicrous points, but
neither can he overlook the fact that the designs of the book are
not the work of an ignorant artist. Rudely as they have been cut,
and badly as they were printed, there is strong character in the
faces, and much artistic skill in the grouping of the figures. The
designs are vigorous, but they are unlike the works of Van
Eyck, or of the German artists of the period. There is nothing in
the costumes or architecture which can be rated as decidedly
German or Dutch. Chatto says the designs were probably
intended to represent Mahomet as the Antichrist of the Book of
Revelation , and that they may have been made by an exiled
Byzantine artist who had been driven out of Constantinople
after the taking of that city by the Turks in 1453. But this
conjecture is not p211 approved by careful bibliographers. It is
generally supposed that the designs are of an earlier period.
Maittaire, who says that it is the oldest112 of all block-books,
calls attention to the singular simplicity of the engraving, which
is in almost plain outline. In this particular the Apocalypse is
much inferior to the Bible of the Poor , for we see no attempt to
give appearance of roundness to the limbs by curved shading
lines, nor are there proper marks to indicate the shadows and

folds in a dress. But the ruder workmanship of the engraver is
more clearly shown in the letters. It may be that they were
badly drawn upon the block, but it is plain that the engraver has
frequently broken connecting lines. Bad presswork and bad ink
have materially aggravated the fault; as printed, the lines of the
engraver appear thicker than they were cut.
Each page has two illustrations with explanatory legends.
Some of these illustrations represent the visions of St. John, but
the designer has drawn them with the same disregard of time
and place which may be noticed in the wood-cuts of the Bible
of the Poor. The architecture is that of Germany in the
fourteenth century; the men wear breeches and coats, conical,
flat-topped and broad-brimmed hats; the soldiers are in chain or
in plate armor, with the helmets and battle-axes of the middle
ages. Nor do the improprieties stop here: many of the
illustrations represent events in the life of the apostle which the
artist did not find in the New Testament.
The illustration on page 213, which is a reduced copy of the
first page in one edition of the Apocalypse , seems to have been
derived from the fabulous life of St. John, supposed to have
been written by Abdias, bishop of Babylon. Drusiana, a p212
married lady of Ephesus, and one of the many converts of St.
John, is an important personage in this fabulous life and in the
illustration annexed. In the upper picture, St. John is
represented as preaching to a magnate, whose robe or mantle is
held by two attendants. Drusiana stands behind them. This
picture is described in the legend:
Through the preaching of St. John, I
have turned from idols Drusiana and
others.

In the lower picture, St. John is represented as baptizing
Drusiana in the Christian temple of Ephesus. Drusiana is
judiciously abbreviated to suit the size of the baptismal font.

Six armed men are before the barred door, endeavoring, by
violence, to gain entrance, or to witness the ceremony. The
picture is explained by the words:
St. John baptizing Drusiana.
The worshipers of idols watching his
[St. John’s] proceedings.

The edition of the Apocalypse named by Heineken as the
first was planned by a practical book-maker, and was made up
in sections of eight double leaves. The first and last pages of
each section were probably engraved together on one block.
They were certainly printed together by the following plan:
1——16 3——14 5——12 7——10
2——15 4——13 6——11 8——9

Page 1 was engraved on the right, and page 16 on the left end
of the block. Page 2 was on the left, and 15 on the right. This
alternation was maintained on all sheets of the section.113 The
printed sheets, 1, 3, 5 and 7 were folded with the printed work
on the inside; while sheets 2, 4, 6 and 8 were folded with the
printed work on the outside. When the sheets were properly
collected, two printed pages faced each other, and were
followed by two pages of blanks. This method of making p214
up the book must have given the printer and the binder a great
deal of trouble, but it was an efficient method, and the only one
that should have been employed.

Fac-simile of the First Page of the Apocalypse. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 7 7⁄ 8 by 10 1⁄ 3 American inches.
[From Heineken.]

In most editions of the book, the ink is of the same rusty
brown color that has been observed in the Bible of the Poor . In
some copies it is almost gray; in others, nearly black. The first

edition has engravings of the greatest merit, but it is badly
printed. The paper-mark is a bunch of grapes, similar in design
to that of a print in the collection of M. Weigel, entitled The
Adoration of the Three Kings , which, it is claimed, was printed
about the year 1425. But paper-marks are misleading evidences.
We do not certainly know the date nor the country in which any
edition of the book was printed. German bibliographers say that
it was printed in Southern Germany; Dutch bibliographers say
that it was printed in the Netherlands, probably by Coster of
Haarlem; but all evidences that have been adduced to establish
a certain date for the earlier editions of the book, or to prove
that they were done at any time or by any printer, are
unsatisfactory. Some copies of the book are interleaved with
manuscript explanations, which are sometimes in the Dutch,
and sometimes in the German language. The greater part of the
copies have been found in Germany, and it is the opinion of the
most eminent bibliographers that the first edition of the book,
and most of the editions, were printed in Germany.
The catalogue of the library of Dr. Kloss contains the
following note under the specification of a ragged copy of the
Apocalypse : “At the end of this volume is a short note, written
by Pope Martin V, who occupied the papal chair from 1417 to
1431.” This indirect attestation to the age of the book has never
been considered as trustworthy.
Another copy of the book, known as the Spencer copy, is
bound up with a copy of the Bible of the Poor , and has on the
binding an inscription to this effect: “Bound in the year of our
Lord 1467 by me, John Reichenbach, in Gyllingen.” The
inscription is undoubtedly authentic. p215
Dibdin114 alludes to an English clergyman who said that he
was once the owner of one copy each of the Apocalypse , the
Bible of the Poor , and the Ars Moriendi , all bound in one
volume, on the cover of which was stamped an inscription

certifying that “this volume was bound for the curate of the
church in 142—.” The last figure the clergyman had forgotten,
but he was sure that the book was in its original binding, and
that it must have been bound, and consequently printed, before
1430. The testimony is unsatisfactory.
THE CANTICLES.
115
This is a block-book of sixteen pages, of small folio size.
It is one of the few block-books which may be unhesitatingly
pronounced as of Netherlandish origin. In general appearance it
closely resembles the books previously noticed. The
impressions are in brown ink, and on one side of the sheet;
there are two illustrations on each page, and the two printed
pages face each other; the explanations of the designs are in
Latin, and are engraved in scrolls that surround the figures.
According to some bibliographers, there are three editions of
the book; according to others, the trifling variations which have
been seized upon to justify the existence of a second and a third
edition are only alterations or repairs that have been sustained
by the original block. One edition contains at the head of the
first page an engraved line, in the low Dutch or Flemish
language, which may be translated thus: “This is the
Prefiguration of Mary, the Mother of God, which, in Latin, is
called The Canticles .” Explanatory titles in block-books, and
even in the earlier typographic books, are unusual. For this
reason the genuineness of the inscription has been challenged,
but it has been generally accepted as a true part of the original
block. p216
The illustration opposite is the fac-simile, reduced in size, of
the first page of the Canticles . The design is imperfectly
explained by the legends in the engraving.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his
mouth, for thy love is better than
wine.
I am come into my garden, my sister, my
spouse: I have gathered my myrrh
with my spice.
Thine head is like Carmel; thy neck is
like a tower of ivory.
I am black but comely, O ye daughters
of Jerusalem; As the tents of Kedar, as
the curtains of Solomon.

The agriculturists of the upper illustration are in monastic
habits: some are cutting and threshing grain; one is pounding
the grain in a mortar and another is grinding it in a hand mill. In
the open little house before the monk with a pestle, is a desk
with two books. In this combination of agricultural work with
the emblem or suggestion of study, Harzen sees an illustration
of the daily work of the Brethren of the Life-in-Common, to
whom he attributes the engraving and printing of this book. The
brethren of this order were eminent as students and copyists of
books, and had some distinction in the last quarter of the
fifteenth century as printers, but their connection with this book
cannot be established.116

Fac-simile of the First Page of the Canticles. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 7 1⁄ 4 by 10 1⁄ 2 American inches.
[From Heineken.]

The words at the top of one of the cuts are not the only Dutch
feature in the book: the style of design is that of the
Netherlandish school of art. The blocks have been drawn and

engraved with much more care than those of the Apocalypse , or
the Bible of the Poor . There is more of grace in the attitudes
and draperies of the female figures of the Canticles , and less of
that gross and unimaginative treatment of sacred personages
which borders both on the ludicrous and the profane. But p218
the designer of the book presents the oriental love story to his
readers with Dutch accessories. The bride of the Song of
Solomon wanders about the streets of a city supposed to be
Jerusalem, but the dwellings have high-peaked roofs, Dutch
gables, and overhanging upper stories; she is assaulted by an
armed and helmeted cavalier who carries on his shield the
heraldic black eagle of some unknown German potentate; the
pope, two cardinals and a bishop, with drawn swords in their
hands and shields on their arms, look with great composure
over Gothic battlements on the assault below. Writers who are
skilled in heraldry say that there is a peculiar significance in the
presentation of the devices and the arms on shields which are
found in many places in the book. Some German authors see in
these devices the arms of the German Empire, of Wittemburg
and of minor German principalities. Those who believe that the
book was printed in the Netherlands, see in the shields the arms
of Burgundy, of Alsace, and of Flemish towns and cities. From
these trivial evidences, the conclusion has been drawn by one
class of partisans that the designer must have been a German,
and, by another class, that he must have been a Hollander.117
p219
The engraved letters of this book are much more legible than
those of the Apocalypse or the Bible of the Poor . The Dutch
final t is frequently introduced. The paper-marks most
frequently observed are the unicorn, the bull’s head, and the
letter P; but no information of value can be derived from the
paper-marks, and but little from the designs and engravings.

Although we do not know whether the Canticles was printed
in the second or third quarter of the fifteenth century, it may be
admitted that it was printed in the Netherlands. We see the last
trace of the blocks in the hands of the same printer who
destroyed the engravings of the Bible of the Poor . A book,
bearing the imprint of Peter Van Os, of Zwoll, 1494, has for its
frontispiece the upper half of the first plate.
THE STORY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN.
118
This is the bibliographic title of a block-book which may
be offered as a proper specimen of the popular religious
literature of the fifteenth century. Sotheby mentions four
distinct editions of the work. The one that has been most
frequently described (whether first or last, is not known)
consists of sixteen leaves, with four illustrations on each leaf,
and a brief explanatory text in Latin. The designs have no
artistic merit; the engraving is coarse, and evidently the work of
a novice; the letters are legible, but they betray great
inexperience in the use of the graver, and they do not, in any
feature, resemble those of the block-books previously
described. Some of them have mannerisms like those of
Gutenberg’s Bible. It is possible that the letters of one edition of
the book are those of movable types, or that they were engraved
on wood from a transfer taken from an impression of movable
types. In all editions the letters have German peculiarities, but
there is no edition which has the appearance of a first
experiment in p220 printing. It is probable that all the editions
were printed in Germany, and after the invention of typography.
The edition from which the annexed illustration was taken
was roughly printed on one side of the paper, but in a very
black ink. In other editions, which were printed from entirely
different blocks, differing both in the size of the block and in
the positions of the figures, the ink is of the customary rusty

brown. The copy in black is supposed to have been printed on a
press, and at a later date.
The object of the book is to show the reasonableness of the
story of the Incarnation, and to defend the dogma of the
Immaculate Conception. The bad taste of the author is more
signally shown in the text than in the pictures. Arguments in
support of the dogma are wrested from sacred history and
heathen mythology, and the writings of the fathers of the
church. The book is a curious compend of piety and
unconscious irreverence, of high scholarship and gross
stupidity, as will be more clearly shown by the following
translation of the legends that explain the pictures on the
opposite page.
Temple of Venus, with a man gazing A man gazing at water that reflects
at a lamp. If the light at the temple of the moon. If Seleucus in Per­sia finds
Venus cannot be extinguished, why [reflected] light from the moon, why
should not the Virgin gen­er­ate with­out should not the Vir­gin, preg­nant by a
the seed of Venus? Au­gus­tine de Civ­i­‐ beau­ti­ful star, gen­er­ate? Au­gus­tine de
tate Dei , XXI, 7. Civ­i­tate Dei , XX, 6.
Two Hu­man Fi­gures and a Sta­tue. Two men saw­ing a stone on which
If a hu­man be­ing can be changed into ap­pear two hu­man heads. If man can
stone, why, by di­vine pow­er, should be paint­ed on stone by the pow­er of
not the Vir­gin gen­er­ate? Al­ber­tus de heav­en, why should not the Vir­gin
Min­or­al­ium , I, in fine . gen­er­ate by the as­sis­tance of the Holy
Spir­it? Al­ber­tus de Min­or­al­ium , II, I.

Fac-simile of a page of the Story of the Blessed Virgin. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 7 3⁄ 8 by 10 1⁄ 2 American inches.
[From Heineken.]
see larger

The book begins with representations of St. Ambrose, St.
Jerome, St. Gregory and St. Augustine. St. Ambrose, who is

duly quoted from his Hexameron , book II, chapter 41, assigns
reasons for the Immaculate Conception, by illogical reference
to a bird without a mate. St. Augustine, who is represented as
seated at a table, reading from his work, De Mirabilibus , book
III, chapter 12, asserts the Immaculate Conception because
many animals are produced without mating. St. Jerome and
p222 St. Gregory expound the same doctrine. Fifty-four
illustrations follow, each explained by a proposition that
enunciates with great formality some of the marvels of natural
science. We are told of bees without fathers, of birds
impregnated by the bill, of geese born from trees, of asbestos
that burns forever, of pearls made fruitful by the dew, of the
phœnix restored by fire, and of many other absurdities. The
authorities cited seem to have been selected with a truly
catholic spirit: we find among them Valerius Maximus, Peter
Comestor, Terence, Boethius, Job, Livy, and Isidore.
One edition of this work contains an imprint in sprawling
and almost unreadable characters, which bibliographers
interpret as the letters F. W. 1470. The letters F. W. were no
doubt the initials of Frederich Walther of Nordlingen.
The quality of the science taught in this History of the
Blessed Virgin enables us to form a just idea of the real value of
the scholastic philosophy then regarded as the perfection of
wisdom. The silly speculations set forth in the book were the
husks upon which a devout people were fed.
AN EXERCISE ON THE LORD’S PRAYER.

This is the translated title of a thin block-book of ten leaves,
which was intended to explain the Lord’s Prayer by illustration.
The blocks are printed in brown ink on one side of the paper.
The Exercise is in the popular form of dialogue.
In the illustration No. 1, the monk Frater begs the angel Oratio to teach him the
Lord’s Prayer. And these are the lessons that are taught:
2. Our Father who art in Heaven. Christ, the Monk, and the Angel kneel.

3. Hallowed be thy name. The Monk, the Angel, Christ, and the Church
represented by a female figure, are kneeling. On the right the Virgin and Holy Child.
4. Thy kingdom come. A representation of Purgatory: in the upper part, the wicked
surrounded by flames; in the lower part, Jews and Pagans in the fiery lake.
5. Thy will be done. The Almighty in the clouds, and before him the Angel and the
Monk kneeling. On the right, a good Christian and an Angel. In the centre, two bad
men who are rejecting the Eucharist. In the foreground, the Jews and Pagans throw
down the cup and are pouring out its contents.
Scroll in No. 5. Frater and Oratio kneeling before God.
Let Thy will be done in Heaven as on earth. . . . The Angel to the
right. Let him who may stand take heed lest he fall . . .
The Good Christian. p223 Thanks to God that I am
what I am. . . . The Jews. Who is Jesus but the son
of the carpenter? The Pagans. Who is our
Lord? . . . . The Bad Christians. We guide
ourselves to salvation.
6. Give us this day our daily bread. In the centre, three loaves of bread on a table,
around which is Charity, robed as a queen, with three other figures. On one side the
Monk and Angel kneeling; on the other, a Knight in armor.
7. Forgive us our trespasses. Christ standing on the altar, the blood pouring from
his side in a basin, from which several persons fill their cups.
8. Lead us not into temptation. The disobedient, proud, gluttonous and avar­i­cious
sur­round a table. Death carries away the foremost.
9. Deliver us from evil. A represen­ta­tion of Hell. The dis­o­bed­ient man in the
power of the Devil. The damned making sup­pli­ca­tion to the Almighty.
10. Amen. A view of Paradise, with the happiness of the blessed. p224

Fac-simile of the Fifth Illustration of the Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 7 1⁄ 8 by 7 1⁄ 2 American inches.
[From Holtrop.]

Santander says that the book bears all the marks of the
highest antiquity. Holtrop says that there is one copy of this
work in which the Latin text is translated, and explained by
engraved lines in Flemish at the bottom of each cut. Guichard
describes a series of engravings on wood, consisting of eight
designs like those just described, with a manuscript text in
Flemish. It is, without doubt, a Flemish book. Of the many
extraordinary commentaries which have been made on the
Lord’s Prayer , this, surely, is the most singular perversion. The
prayer which begins with a recognition of the brotherhood of
mankind, which tells us to believe in the all-embracing love of

the Father, which teaches lessons of dependence, forgiveness
and protection, is made the text for a denunciation of Jews and
Pagans, and for the teaching of doctrinal notions about the
Eucharist.
THE BOOK OF KINGS.
In this book, two separate illus­tra­tions, with their ex­plan­at­ory
text, are printed together on each page. The Book of Kings
might, therefore, be classified among the block-books without
separate pages of text, but it really has a text of unusual length
for a book of this class. In other features, it resembles the
block-books previously described; its twenty pages are printed
on one side of the leaf; the illustrations face each other, and are
in the customary brown ink. The designs are rudely drawn, and
are as full of anachronisms in architecture as the illustrations of
the Bible of the Poor , but the architecture most frequently
shown is in the pointed Gothic style. The engraving is coarse;
every object is cut in bold and heavy outline; tints and shading
lines are timidly used, and always in a crude manner. It was
obviously intended that the illustrations should be developed by
painting or by stenciling. The letters are drawn and engraved
with more care than the pictures, but they are irregular in size
and form. One of the peculiarities of the lettering is the final
cross given to the small letter t , a peculiarity which is
frequently p226 noticed in some of the typographic work of
Dutch printers. The leaves were not nested in sections one
within another as was customary: each sheet of two leaves was
engraved, printed and folded separately, so as to make a book
of ten sections.

An Illustration from the Book of Kings. ♠
Original is 7 by 8 3⁄ 4 inches.
[From Sotheby.]
see larger

The book was intended to illustrate the more important
events of the life of David as recorded in the books of Samuel ,
and in the First and Second Books of Kings . The fac-simile on

the preceding page illustrates Hannah presenting Samuel to the
priests in the house of the Lord, and Samuel called by the Lord
out of sleep. Sotheby classifies it with the block-books of
Holland, but Falkenstein attributes it to Germany.
THE GROTESQUE ALPHABET.

This is a curious block-book of twenty-four pages, of the
original edition of which not one perfect copy is known. The
leaves of the copy now on the shelves of the British Museum
are 3 3⁄ 4 inches wide and 6 inches high. Sotheby, who has
carefully examined its construction, says that the twenty-four
pages were printed in sections of eight pages on three sheets of
paper, with a thin watery ink of a sepia tint. The margins and
blanks have been written on with an ink of nearly the same
color as that of the printed cuts.
Another copy of this work has been found at Basle, in which,
on the letter A (not found in the London copy), may be seen the
date 1464. Another copy, in a library at Dresden, has the same
date. Renouvier says that these copies, by German engravers,
and of inferior execution, are transfers of the original, which
was engraved in the Netherlands.
The history of the book in the British Museum is unknown,
but it has many evidences of long use in English hands. The
cover or binding consists of a double fold of thick parchment,
upon the inside of which, between the folds, is written in large
English characters, “Edwardus Lowes.” On one side of the last
leaf is the rough draft of a letter in the English language. The
writing, which is found in scraps all over the book, is of p227
the period of Henry VIII. Upon a sword-blade in the cut of the
letter L is written in small characters the word London. In
another place in the same cut are letters which are read by some
as Westmistre —by others as Bethemsted . It is full of English
writing, but it has not been proved that the cuts are the work of
an English engraver. Chatto says of them:

Letter K of Grotesque Alphabet. ♠
Original is 3 1⁄ 2 by 4 5⁄ 8 inches.
[From Holtrop.]

——They were neither designed nor engraved by the artists who designed and
engraved the cuts in the Apocalypse , the History of the Virgin and the Poor
Preachers’ Bible . . . . With respect to drawing, engraving and expression, the cuts of
the Alphabet are decidedly superior to those of every block-book, and generally to
all wood engravings executed before the year 1500, with the exception of such as are
by Albert Durer, and those contained in the Hypnerotomachia , printed by Aldus at
Venice in 1499. . . . I perceive nothing in them to induce me to suppose that they
were the work of a Dutch artist; and I am as little inclined to ascribe them to a
German. The style of the drawing is not unlike what we see in illuminated French
manuscripts of the middle of the fifteenth century; and as the only two engraved
words which occur in the volume are in French, I am rather inclined to suppose that
the artist who made the designs was a native of France. The costume of the female to
whom the words are addressed appears to be French; and the action of the lover
kneeling seems almost characteristic of the nation. No Dutchman p228 certainly ever
addressed his mistress with such an air. He holds what appears to be a ring as
gracefully as a modern Frenchman holds a snuff-box, and upon the scroll before him
are engraved a heart, and the words which he may be supposed to utter: Mon ame —
My soul.119

The real object of this book is not apparent. The figures were
not engraved for the purpose of teaching the alphabet, for the
designs are quaint, elaborate, and above the comprehension of
young children. When the book was first made, the letters had a
significance which seems to have been forgotten.

A Page from the Apostles’ Creed. ♠
Original is 5 3⁄ 8 by 8 1⁄ 8 inches.
[From Dibdin.]

THE APOSTLES’ CREED.

This is the title given to a lost block-book, of which only
seven leaves remain. The annexed illustration is a reduced fac-
simile of the page that tells the story of the Resurrection. The
four angels about the circle are sounding the last trump, and the
dead are coming forth from their graves. The figures in the
lower corners are those of Zacharias and Judas. In this book,
and in nearly all the block-books, the subjects most frequently

presented are those that illustrate the marvelous and terrible.
The designs have merit, but the letters are badly engraved. The
pictures are explained by a few lines in German. The p229 copy
of the book described by Dibdin has on the fly-leaf the written
memorandum V. W. 1471, but it is not probable that this writing
has any reference to the date of printing.

A Page from the Eight Rogueries. ♠
Original is 4 by 5 3⁄ 8 inches.
[From Falkenstein.]

THE EIGHT ROGUERIES.

This is a small block-book of eight leaves. Weigel places it
among the earliest specimens of engraving on wood. The
language in which the pictures are explained is High German.
The pictures illustrate the Go-between, the Liar, the Cheat, the
Counterfeit Goldsmith, the Cheating Merchant, the Church
Robber, the Cheating Rope-maker, the Blacksmith that sells
iron for steel. The designs are rude, but they are full of spirit

and character, and the cutting of the figures has been done with
ability and intelligence. The paper was printed on one side only
and in dull brown ink. This book was found in the neglected
library of an old South German monastery, in the heart of the
neighborhood in which we find the earliest notices of printers
and painters of images. As it is the only block-book of a
decidedly non-religious character, it may be ascribed to some
maker of playing cards, who practised the art of engraving
before it was placed under the control of the Church.

XII

The Antichrist, with Fac-simile . . . How to Remember the Evangelists, with Fac-
simile . . . How to Die Becomingly, with Fac-simile . . . Other Editions of this
Work . . . Chiromancy of Doctor Hartleib, with Fac-simile . . . German
Planetarium and Calendar, with Fac-simile . . . Wonders of Rome, with Fac-simile
. . . Pomerium Spirituale, with Fac-simile . . . Temptations of the Devil, with Fac-
simile . . . Life of St. Meinrat, with Fac-simile . . . Dance of Death, with Fac-
simile . . . Mechanical Peculiarities of the Block-Books . . . All of Religious
Character . . . Made for Priests, but seen by the People . . . Not Adapted to the
Needs of the People . . . The Period of the Block-Books . . . Made in Germany and
the Netherlands . . . Dates and Printers of the Books Unknown . . . Probably Made
in the First Quarter of the Fifteenth Century . . . An Established Business before
the Invention of Typography.

D E R E N D K R I S T , OR THE A N T I C H R I S T. This book
seems to have been written to warn men against the snares of
heresy. Two distinct editions are known; each was printed from
a different suite of blocks and by a different printer. The copy
about to be described has thirty-eight leaves, twenty-six of
which are devoted to the life of Antichrist, and eleven to a
separate treatise known as the Fifteen Signs , which was bound
up with the Antichrist , and of which it seems to be the proper
sequel. The book is printed on one side of the leaf, in brown
ink, and the illustrations face each other. The text begins with

the words, “Here beginneth of Antichrist, taken and drawn out
of many books, how and of whom he p231 shall be born.” After
a half-page wood-cut, which represents with needless grossness
the birth of Antichrist, follow other engravings illustrating the
more notable events of his life.120 The fac-simile on the
following page gives a correct notion of the lawlessness of the
designs121 of the book. It is obvious that they were not made by
the artist who drew the illustrations for the Bible of the Poor or
for the Canticles . The text which explains the wood-cuts is in
the German language, but it is in a very careless form of
German writing. p233

Fac-simile, reduced, of a Page of the Antichrist. ♠
[From Heineken.]
see larger

The thirty-eight leaves of one edition are made up in one
section. This bungling method of making up a book is sufficient
evidence that the printer or engraver who placed these pages
together had no education in practical book-making. But the
bad method shown in the plan does not prove that the book is of
great age. The copy under notice contains, in the German
language, the imprint of Junghannis, priffmaler , or painter of
cards, Nuremberg, 1472. Whether this Junghannis was the
designer, printer or engraver is not known.
HOW TO REMEMBER THE EVANGELISTS.
122
This block-book was, no doubt, intended for men, but a
modern observer would say that it had been made for children.
The time-honored method, still used for the child’s alphabet, A
was an apple, is the method of the Ars Memorandi . Compared
with the block-books previously noticed, it is a book of high
merit. It is a thin folio of thirty pages, fifteen of which contain a
text of very large, clumsily drawn and compactly arranged
letters within a rule-bordered frame; the remaining fifteen
pages have full-page illustrations. The edition from which the
annexed illustration was copied is in brown ink.

Fac-simile of a Page of the Ars Memorandi. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 6 3⁄ 4 by 9 1⁄ 4 American inches.
[From Heineken.]

The designs are more eccentric than those of any known
block-book, but the designer has shown no artistic ability in the
grouping of his figures. The four Evangelists are symbolized—
St. John by an eagle, St. Matthew by an angel, St. Luke by a

bull, St. Mark by a lion—but they are presented to us in
uncouth attitudes, and are surrounded or overlaid by some of
the familiar objects frequently mentioned in the Gospels. These
objects are numbered with Arabic figures referring to
explanations in the text. The dove, for it must be so considered,
although it looks like an owl, perched on the head of the
symbolized St. John, may be accepted as the emblem of the
Deity. The two heads beside the eagle are to be understood as
those of Moses and of Christ. The musical instruments, a lute
and three bells, on the breast of the eagle, indicate the contents
p235 of the second chapter, the marriage at Cana. The fish
recalls the pool of Bethesda. The numeral 3 points to the
conversation with Nicodemus; the water-bucket and the crown
refer to the woman of Samaria at the well; the five loaves and
the two small fishes to the feeding of the multitude. The cross
in the circle is the consecrated wafer of the Roman Catholic
Church. The letters in the pages of text are unusually large; they
are clearly cut, but are so compactly arranged that they
frequently interfere with each other. The descriptive text is in
Latin, but of very objectionable grammar and orthography. The
knowledge it conveys of the Gospel is imperfect to the last
degree, as may be more clearly seen in the following literal
translation of the text provided for this illustration.
The Gospel of St. John has twenty-one chapters. First
Chapter. In the beginning was the Word, from the eternity of the
Word and the Trinity. Second Chapter. Nuptials were made in
Cana of Galilee, and how Christ overturned the tables of all the
money-changers. Third Chapter. But there was a man among the
Pharisees named Nicodemus. Fourth Chapter. How Jesus asked
the Samaritan woman to give him to drink near the well of
Jacob, and about the law. Fifth Chapter. About the miracle in the
fish pool, when Jesus told the lame man, Take up thy bed and
walk. Sixth Chapter. About the feeding with five loaves and two
fishes, and about the Eucharist.

The Ars Memorandi is considered by Schelhorn as one of the
oldest of block-books, “if not the first, among the first.” Von

Aretin says that “it is worthy of observation that this book, one
of the earliest of its kind, should be devoted to the improvement
of the memory, when it was to be rendered of little consequence
by the art of printing.”
HOW TO DIE BECOMINGLY. 123

At least ten distinct xylographic editions of this popular
block-book have been identified, seven of which are in Latin
and three in German. The text of the book is substantially the
same in all editions, but the designs are dissimilar, and the
engraving and printing are of unequal merit. Some copies are in
black and others in brown ink; some are printed on p236 one
side and others on both sides of the paper. The origin of the
book is not known, but it was a popular work long after types
had been invented; before the year 1500, it had been printed
either from types or from blocks, in Nuremberg, Paris, Rome,
Florence, Verona, Lyons, Utrecht, Delft and Zwoll.
The edition about to be described, which Heineken names as
the fourth, is a folio of twenty-four leaves. It is printed in
brown ink, on one side, with printed pages facing each other.
Eleven pages have illustrations, and thirteen pages are given to
the text. The book is made up in workmanlike manner, in four
sections of six leaves. The illustrations are crowded; the figures
are grouped inartistically; the engraving is coarse.

Fac-simile of a Page of the Ars Moriendi. ♠
Engraving in the original print is 6 1⁄ 2 by 8 3⁄ 4 American inches.
[From Heineken.]

The object of the book is to present the temptations that beset
the dying. The first illustration represents the dying man as
tempted by devils concerning his faith. The next illustration
shows the good angels who enable him to remain steadfast. In

like manner he is tempted by devils to despair, to impatience (in
which the moribund is vigorously kicking an attendant), to
vainglory, and to avarice; but through help of the angels, he
triumphs over all his adversaries. The ninth illustration, which
is reproduced on the following page, shows the dying man as
resisting the last assaults of three emissaries of the devil. The
vigorous action of these hideous goblins is in marked contrast
with the composure of the relatives, who stand at a respectful
distance. The horse and hostler show that the man on the death-
bed was rich. The moral of the design is the vanity of riches.
One of the devils, the one at the head of the bed, maliciously
suggests, Provideas amicis —you should provide for your
friends. Another devil, pointing to the house, calls out with
grim irony—Intende thesauro —pay attention to your treasures.
This illustration is followed by another in which a ministering
angel exhorts the dying man to discard the devil’s advice, and
not leave his property to his relatives, but to give it to the
church. In the last illustration, the spirit of the dying man
exhales from his mouth in the shape of a manikin, which is
received by the angels. The p238 baffled devils make some
frightful contortions and then depart. It is not a pleasant book.
But the hideousness of the devils in the illustrations is not so
revolting as the craftiness of the author who devised these
ghastly scarecrows. The ostensible purpose of the book was the
preparation of men for another world; its real object was the
aggrandizement of the church, and for this purpose the writer of
the book recommended the sacrifice of the desire to provide for
one’s family. It does not increase our respect for the piety or
intelligence of the people to learn that this book was popular for
more than a century.
The xylographic editions of this work which contain the
names of the printers are in the German language. One of them
has these words, Hans Sporer , 1473; another has the imprint of

J. W. Presbrm , of Nuremberg; another is dated Leipsic, 1496.
One of the typographic editions, dated 1473, is attributed to
John Gensberg, of Rome; another, dated 1478, bears the imprint
of Ratdolt, of Venice. An edition with a typographic text was
printed in 1488 by Peter Van Os, of Zwoll, the same printer
who last owned the blocks of the Bible of the Poor . In this
edition the words in the scrolls are in the Flemish language, and
the text is in Latin. The use of Flemish in the engraved blocks
seems to warrant the belief that there must have been an earlier
edition, entirely xylographic, but no such edition has been
discovered.
THE CHIROMANCY OF DOCTOR HARTLIEB.

This is a folio of fifty-two pages, badly printed, in dark gray
ink, on both sides of the paper. The designs are puerile and the
engraving is coarse. The text of the book is in the German
language. Some copies of the book contain at the foot of one
page and outside of the border the name

Other copies of the book have, in the same position, the
name The spelling is different,
p239 and the shapes of the letters are different. No satisfactory
explanation can be offered for these differences in books that
are supposed to be printed from the same blocks. It may be that
the name, inserted in a very exposed place, broke down under
impression, and was carelessly re-engraved. This variation is a
specimen of some of the perplexing changes to be found not
only in block-books but even in early typographic books. The
name is usually read as George Schapff, of Augsburg, who is
supposed to have been the engraver and printer of the book in
1448. The workmanship is not to his credit: Chatto says “more

wretched cuts were never chiseled out by a printer’s apprentice
as a head-piece to a half-penny ballad.”
The matter is worthy of the manner. The book professes to
teach the science of palmistry, or the telling of fortunes by
wrinkles in the palm of the hand. The first page contains the
title, in large letters, over a piece of ornamental border and
lattice-work. The page that follows contains this dedication:
“The hereinafter written Book of the Hand was made German by Doctor Hartlieb,
through the Prayer and Bidding of the serene high-born Princess Dame Anna, née
Brunswick, and Wife of the virtuous, blessed Prince, Duke Albert, Duke of Bavaria
and Count of Voburg. This has come to pass on the Friday after the Conception of
Mary, the most glorious Virgin. 1448.”

The language is not clear: the date here given may be that of
the translation, or of the engraving, or of the printing. The
rudeness of design and engraving might lead an ordinary
observer to the conclusion that the book was printed at an
earlier date than 1448; but the insertion of a separate title-page,
the printing of the pages on both sides of the paper, and the
method of gathering the book in sections of eight leaves, teach
us that the book should have been printed at a later date, when
these improvements were in general use.

Fac-simile of a part of a Page of the Chiromancy of ♠
Doctor Hartlieb.
[From Heineken.]

Doctor Hartlieb apprises his readers that he foretells the
destiny of man by his right, and that of woman by her left hand.
For this purpose he furnishes, on as many pages, forty-four
large illustrations of the human hand, each covered with p241

mystical characters, that are almost illegible by reason of bad
printing. The illustration annexed, which is the first in the book,
is intended to represent events that happen to people who have
certain marks upon the palms of their hands. At one end of the
picture are hanging and murder; at the other end, a kind deity is
showering gold on the head of a bewildered peasant.
The childish book is an illustration of the intelligence of the
ordinary reader of the period. It may be that the restrictive
phrase, ordinary reader, is not warranted, for Doctor John
Hartlieb was probably an honored graduate from a medieval
university, and the Princess Anna, no doubt, was more carefully
educated than the ladies of her court. Chiromancy was
considered a science. Adrien Sicler dedicated a book on this
subject to Camille de Neuf-Ville, Archbishop of Lyons and
Primate of France. Books on chiromancy were printed at Lyons
in 1492, at Strasburg in 1534, and at Bologna in 1504. The
church tolerated the books of palmistry which did not interfere
with the doctrine of moral responsibility, and which did not
teach astrology or magic arts.

An Illustration from the Calendar of John of Gamundia. ♠
[From Berjeau.]

GERMAN PLANETARIUM AND CALENDAR.

These are two distinct works, which were often printed and
bound together. The Planetarium , which is in German,
describes, through a text in rhyme and by engraved
illustrations, the influence of the planets on the destinies of
mankind. The Calendar , which is in Latin, occupies but four
pages, and contains at the end of the month of February the
inscription, Magister Johannes Gamundia .124 On another page
is found the p242 date 1468. There is a copy of the German
Planetarium in the British Museum which contains only twelve
printed pages. Berjeau describes it as a small quarto, and says,

that although it is printed on both sides of the paper, it presents
the appearance of impression by the frotton. The fac-simile
illustration that is given underneath represents the influences of
the planet Mercury. The artist before the easel is painting a
Madonna; his servant is mixing colors with a muller; in the
middle of the print is an organ-maker; to the right is a copyist;
at his back are two gourmands; in the foreground is a sculptor
at work on a statue; to the left is a goldsmith before his anvil.
The descriptions of these works that have been given by the
early German bibliographers are not clear. They represent the
book as consisting of twenty-six pages printed on one p243 side
of the sheet, with the blank pages pasted together. The size of
the page, the color of the ink, and the method used in gathering
the sheets are not stated. It seems that there were at least two
editions of each work, one in German and one in Latin, and that
portions of the different editions were sometimes bound up in
one book. Von der Hagen says that the first page of the copy
examined by him contained an imperfect impression of one of
the pages of the Antichrist .

A Page from the Wonders of Rome. ♠
Original is 3 1⁄ 4 by 5 5⁄ 8 inches.
[From Sotheby.]

THE WONDERS OF ROME.

This small quarto of one hundred and eighty-four engraved
pages is an example of patience in obscure letter-cutting that is
more characteristic of China than of Europe. The text is in
German, and is fairly printed in black ink on both sides of the
paper. The book is enlivened by a few illustrations which have
small merit as designs. The Wonders of Rome is an

ecclesiastic’s description of the more important shrines of the
holy city, with their consecrated relics. The first page of the
book contains an engraving of the handkerchief of Saint
Veronica, which, according to the legend, was placed on the
face of Christ to wipe away the blood that dripped from the
crown p244 of thorns, and received therefrom the impress of his
features. Under this design the papal arms and the triple crown,
the crossed keys, and the letters S. P. Q. R. The arms of the
pope are those of Pope Sixtus IV, who occupied the papal chair
from 1471 to 1484, within which period it is supposed that the
book was engraved and published for German readers.

An Illustration from the Pomerium Spirituale. ♠
Original is 4 7⁄ 8 by 5 inches.
[From Holtrop.]

POMERIUM SPIRITUALE, OR SPIRITUAL NURSERY.

The rightful place of this work is among the manuscripts that
are partly written and partly printed, for its pictures were
engraved and its text was written. The book contains p245
twenty-six leaves of small folio, made up in one section. At the
beginning of each of its twelve written chapters is the
impression of an engraving on wood. The date 1440 is found in
two of the engravings. The only known copy of this book is

held by the Royal Library of Brussels. It is a curious
circumstance that this copy, possibly in its original binding,
which contains a printed date earlier than that of any other
block-book, should also contain two printed leaves of the Bible
of the Poor . Holtrop says that the book was composed by
Henry Bogaert, canon of a monastery near Brussels, who was
born in 1382 and died in 1469. He was the author of many
small religious books, of which the Exercise on the Lord’s
Prayer is one. The illustrations of this book and of the
Pomerium Spirituale were probably made at the same time and
by the same engraver.
THE TEMPTATIONS OF THE DEVIL.

This is not a book, but a print on a single sheet eleven inches
wide and six­teen inches high. It dif­fers from the image prints in
the pet­ti­ness of its cuts and the abun­dance of its text, for which
rea­son it may pro­per­ly be described among the block-books
with text. The nature of the work is clearly set forth in the pre­‐
face, The Temp­tations of the De­vil, as he temp­teth men to the
Se­ven Mor­tal Sins . The De­vil, who, with a claw-hook in his
hand, stands in the corner to the left, has be­neath him the list of
these se­ven sins. The temp­ted man is p246 the monk near the
centre of the print, who sup­pli­cates the aid of the angel, who
hastens to his rescue. Below the angel are ap­prop­riate quo­ta­‐
tions from the Scrip­tures, which show that this print is but a
medieval para­phrase of the story of Christ temp­ted by the
Devil, as re­lated by St. Mat­thew. It was engraved and printed in
the form of a pla­card, that it might be fastened against a wall
for the con­tem­pla­tion of the de­vout. The il­lus­tra­tion shows only
a por­tion of the upper part of this curious print, of which the
British Museum has the only known copy. It is sup­posed to
have been prin­ted in the Nether­lands.

A Fragment of the Temptations of ♠
the Devil.
Original is 10 inches wide.
[From Koning.]
see larger

A Page from the Life of St. Meinrat. ♠
Original is 3 1⁄ 8 by 5 7⁄ 8 inches.
[From Dibdin.]

THE LIFE OF ST. MEINRAT.

This book, which has an introduction of two pages in
German, and forty-eight pages of illustrations, with brief
descriptions below the pictures, tells the story of two bad men
who murdered St. Meinrat, and who were immediately
thereafter pursued by two crows. The illustration here presented
represents the murderers on their way to execution,
accompanied by the unrelenting crows. On the pages that
follow are engravings of the murderers suffering under torture;

it is shown how they were dragged at the heels of horses, and
were broken and burnt on the wheel. The moral p247 of this
story is unmistakable: it is an awful crime to kill an ecclesiastic.
The publication of so large a book to enforce so plain a truism
is an intimation that some of the laity needed forcible
illustrations of the danger of abusing the clergy.

A Page from the Heidelberg Dance of Death. ♠
Original is 5 1⁄ 2 by 8 1⁄ 4 inches.
[From Dibdin.]

THE DANCE OF DEATH.

Of this block-book of twenty-seven large pages, only two
copies are known; one of them, which is in the Heidelberg
library, is entirely xylographic, with a text in German; the other

copy, in a Munich library, has also a text in German, but it is in
manuscript. For each edition a different suite of blocks was
used. Nothing is known about the printer of either book, nor
about the date of its execution. The designs are really
meritorious, and the engraving is obviously the work of a man
who had experience in his art, but the merit of the work has
been overshadowed by the superior designs of Holbein and the
more masterly engravings of Lutzelberger. The characters or
personages in this block-book are the same as those in the
famous painting once at Basle.

These descriptions of the more famous block-books may be
sufficient to show their paltriness from a literary point of view,
and their rudeness as specimens of printing, but the p248 books
described are not enough in number to give us a correct notion
of the activity of the early block-printers. It is probable that
many books have been lost and forgotten; but we have,
however, enough to warrant the belief that block-printing was
an industry of some repute even as early as 1430.
One mechanical peculiarity of the block-books deserves a
specific notice: all the block-books were printed on paper. The
printers soon discovered that vellum was an intractable
material, and they preferred paper as much for its convenience
as for its cheapness. An apparent dislike of black ink is equally
noticeable; the color in different books varies from a blackish
gray to a dingy brown. But their most characteristic feature is
the method of printing upon one side of the sheet. One
chronicler says that the leaves were so printed that the blank
sides might be pasted together. That this is not the true reason is
apparent when we discover that very few of the books have
pasted leaves. It is more reasonable to suppose that the earlier
block-printers could not print on both sides of the paper. It is
plain that they could not produce a neat impression even on one

side—could not regulate the force of the impression, which was
so harsh and violent that it sometimes spread the ink, and
deeply indented the paper. As the margins are uneven, we have
to infer that the printers could not place the sheets with uniform
accuracy upon the blocks. Consequently, they could not print in
register, and place the second page truly on the back of the first.
Some authorities say that the paper was printed dry, but this is
only a conjecture, made to suit the theory of printing by the
frotton. The paper must have been dampened, for it was very
thick, and as strong and as coarse as modern manila wrapping;
it could not have been legibly printed until it had been softened.
With few exceptions, the block-books are of a religious
character; but the religion taught is dogmatic and doctrinal
more than devotional. We may safely assume that they were
written by ecclesiastics in high station for the instruction of the
ignorant monks, mendicant friars, and “unable curates.” p249
Illiterate priests, to whom the descriptions or the legends of the
pictures had been read, must have understood their historical
and spiritual meaning, and must have found the pictures an aid
to the memory, and suggestive of topics for preaching.
Although made for priests, they were not beyond the reach of
the people. As far back as the twelfth century, an English abbot
sternly forbade, under penalty of excommunication, the lending
of any books, “neither the large books with pictures, nor the
small books without pictures.” But the mandate was
disregarded. Sooner or later, the books found their way to the
hands of laymen, whose ignorance of Latin did not prevent
them from admiring the pictures; and this admiration must have
inspired many a reader with the desire to learn the strange
language and to own the coveted book.
The Life of St. Meinrat is the only book which seems to have
been written especially for the people. There are two, the
Antichrist and the Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer , which were,

apparently, written to furnish suggestions to preachers against
heresy. There was need for books of this character. The church
was fermenting with dissent; a very large portion of the people
had abandoned the old faith, and there was a general complaint
among all priests that the churches were neglected. To recover
this lost allegiance, and as an antidote to infidelity and
heresy,125 the church gave its assent to the circulation of image
prints and block-books among the laity.
The poverty of the spiritual diet prepared for men who
hungered for instruction and who leaned to heresy cannot be
passed by without notice. It is strange that, in an age of p250
growing disbelief, nothing was written for the people which can
now be considered as of importance. We look in vain over the
earlier block-books for a copy, in any language that the
common people could read, of a book containing appropriate
selections from the Scriptures. [anc250] The Lord’s Prayer was
published but once, published in Latin, and strangely perverted
from its true purpose. The Ten Commandments , in block-book
form, were printed in German, but not before the last quarter of
the sixteenth century. We find no selections from the Psalms or
Evangelists . The stories of the Bible , always with a Latin text,
were obviously prepared, not to teach lessons of piety to the
people, but to instruct the priests in the mysteries of dogmatic
theology. All are orthodox: there is no block-book that has the
slightest taint of heresy.
It does not appear that any of these block-books were made
by monks. The block-printers of a later period were laymen,
and men of no note, and it seems probable that the earlier
books, without names, places or dates, were also made by
laymen, by the printers of cards and images. It is possible that
they were made at the instance, and perhaps under the
direction, of the ecclesiastics. But we find no evidences that
they were printed in monasteries; the lazy habits and coarse

tastes of the monks, and their general avoidance of every form
of mechanical labor as beneath their sacred calling, make this
conjecture inadmissible.126
The literary merit of the block-books was small, and their
shabby mechanical execution made them contemptible. To
readers accustomed to handle great books of tinted vellum,
admirably written in letters that are yet as sharp and legible as
modern types, these miserable little pamphlets on dingy paper,
and with muddy letters, scarcely deserved the name of books.
By the educated readers of the fifteenth century they p251 were
rated as literary rubbish. Professors in the universities looked
on them with the same contemptuous spirit which men of
letters afterward manifested toward early newspapers. The
attempts of early printers to furnish these poor substitutes for
books to common people, so far from receiving any
encouragement from scholars, met with their disdainful neglect.
There were, indeed, a few praiseworthy exceptions, but the
scholarship of the middle ages took sides with rank, in
upholding all the conventional distinctions of society. They
wished illiterate people to understand that books were the right
of the educated only.127
The period in which block-books were printed cannot be
fixed within exact limits. They did not go out of fashion when
types were invented: the illustrated block-book Opera Nova
Contemplativa , the Italian adaptation of the Bible of the Poor ,
was printed in Venice about 1512; but block-books of inferior
merit were made after this date. Berjeau describes one, the
Innocentia Victrix , probably engraved in China at the order of
the Jesuits, which was printed in 1671. But these books are
really the last specimens of a dying art; in the sixteenth century,
they were practically obsolete. The period of their greatest
popularity may be fixed between the years p252 1440 and 1475.
As we approach the latter date, we find block-books containing

the names and places of the printers. We see that they were
made at Ulm, Nuremberg, and Augsburg,—the towns which
have the earliest records of manufacturers of playing cards,—in
the district in which old image prints like the St. Christopher
have been oftenest discovered. It is probable that block-books
were printed in Southern Germany at or near the time when the
St. Christopher was printed, but we have no positive proof that
any block-book was printed in 1423. The German book with
earliest printed date is the Chiromancy , but its date of 1448 is
not certainly the date of printing.
The evidences in favor of an early practice of block-book
printing in the Netherlands are, in some features, even more
incomplete. No early Dutch or Flemish block-book reveals the
name of its printer. There are not many notices in old Flemish
town-books concerning card-makers, or printers or painters of
images. Yet there was, without doubt, an early practice of
block-printing in the Netherlands. The Dutch traditions about
early printing are more circumstantial than those of Germany;
the Brussels Print dated 1418 is older by five years than the
print of St. Christopher ; the date of 1440 as printed in the
wood-cuts of the Exercise on the Lord’s Prayer is eight years
earlier than the date of the Chiromancy .
The books themselves do not tell us, neither directly nor
indirectly, whether they were first printed in Flanders or in
Germany. They have been critically examined by many able
men, but the unbiased reader will not fail to note that most
inquirers have found only what they wanted to find. To the
German critic, all the early block-books are German; to the
Dutch critic, they are surely Dutch. To recite the arguments
advanced by partisans, or even to state the facts wrested to the
support of the arguments, would provide a tedious task for the
reader. Nor would the fullest presentation of the facts lead to
certain knowledge. The language oftenest found in the block-

books is Latin, the language of the Church and of p253 scholars
in all countries during the middle ages, and it gives us no clue
to the place where they were printed. The paper-marks have
been carefully scrutinized, in the hope that they would reveal
the manufacture of the paper at some date or in some place, but
reasonings made from paper-marks are now regarded as
uncertain and of no practical value. We learn nothing through
the study of the shapes or fashion of the engraved letters, for
German-like characters have been found in block-books known
to be Dutch, and peculiarities supposed to be Dutch have been
found in German books. Nor can we glean anything of real
value from a critical examination of the designs, which could
have been copied from manuscripts, or drawn in one country
and printed in another.
The only mechanical feature which leads to positive
conclusions as to age is the manner in which they were printed.
The books printed in black ink and on both sides of the paper
were certainly printed after the invention of typography, and by
typographic apparatus. The books in brown ink and on one side
of the paper are of an earlier period. There is a peculiar
rudeness about the books in brown ink which is not to be found
in typographic work, a rudeness which we know began with the
makers of cards or printers of images. If we consider, as we
must, that the block-books are only collections of image prints,
which were put in the form of books as soon as paper became
cheap and popular, we may conclude with confidence that they
could have been made, and probably were made, in the first
quarter of the fifteenth century.
The great popularity of the block-books even after 1450,
when types had been invented, proves that the business of
making them was then firmly established, and that it was not
checked by the superior advantages offered by types. It is
obvious that the block-printers of 1450 had long practice in the

older method, that they were firmly attached to it, and would
not abandon it in favor of the new invention. Their preference
for the older method of xylography is very plainly shown by the
numerous editions of the Donatus .

XIII

A Very Old Book . . . A Favorite with the Early Xylographers . . . Frequently Printed
. . . Scarcity of Fragments . . . Printed by Typographic Process . . . Printed before
and after Invention of Typography . . . Testimony of the Cologne Chronicle . . . Of
Accursius . . . Of Scaliger . . . Of Sweinheim and Pannartz . . . Fac-simile of a
German Donatus . . . Of a Dutch Donatus . . . The Arrangement of Words in the
Donatus . . . Obscurity of the Letters . . . Fac-simile of a Dutch Horarium . . .
Xylographic Editions are Imitations of Typographic Editions . . . Irregularities of
Engraved Letters . . . The Donatus a Relic of the Past . . . Shows the Retrogressive
Tendencies of the Teachers of the Period . . . The Pettiness of all Block-Books . . .
An Evidence of the Limitations of Xylography.

T H E only block-book without pictures of which we have any
knowledge is the Donatus ,128 or Boy’s Latin Grammar . It
received its name from its author, Ælius Donatus, a Roman
grammarian of the fourth century, and one of the instructors of
St. Jerome. The block-book is but an abridgment of the old
grammar: as it was usually printed in the form of a thin quarto,
it could, with propriety, be classified among primers rather than
with books. When printed in the largest letters, it occupied but
thirty-four pages; when letters of small size were used, it was
compressed within nine pages. As the most popular of small
works, and one constantly needed in every p255 preparatory
school, it met the conditions then required by the early

publisher: it could be engraved at little cost, and the printed
copies could be sold in very large quantities. How many
xylographic editions of the book were printed has never been
ascertained, but we are led to believe that the number was large
when we learn that more than fifty editions were printed from
types before the year 1500.
Fragments of the xylographic Donatus are scarce, and they
are, for the most part, in a shabby condition. Many of them are
the remnants of badly printed leaves which were rejected as
spoiled by the printer. If it had not been for the frugal habits of
the binders, who used them as stiffeners in the covers of books,
we should have few specimens of this book. These waste leaves
were put to this use because they were printed on parchment
and had more strength than paper. And here we have to notice a
remarkable difference between the block-books of images and
the xylographic Donatus .
All the block-books are printed on paper, and the greater part
are printed on one side of the sheet in brown ink. All copies of
the xylographic Donatus are printed on parchment, on both
sides of the leaf, and in black ink. Parchment was, no doubt,
selected to adapt the book to the hard usage it would receive
from careless school-boys, but the method of printing in black
ink and on both sides is the typographic method, which was not
in use, so far as we can learn, before the middle of the fifteenth
century. We have to conclude that all copies of the Donatus
printed in this manner were printed after the invention of types.
The most trustworthy authorities say that there is no known
fragment of an engraved Donatus that can be attributed to the
first half of the fifteenth century.
In the manufacture of this grammar, the block-book printers
competed successfully with type-printers for many years. But
typography improved while xylography declined; at the end of
the fifteenth century, the copies made from type were decidedly

superior. The engraved copies of the book were gradually cast
aside as rubbish, for they contained no pictures, p256 and had no
features to justify their preservation. We cannot wonder that
copies of the engraved Donatus are scarce, but we must not
infer from their present scarcity that they were not common
before the year 1450. It is probable that more copies were
printed of this than of any pictorial block-book; although we
find no copies, we have trustworthy evidences that the Donatus
was printed before types were made.
That the Donatus was engraved and printed before the
invention of typography is distinctly stated in the book now
known as the Cologne Chronicle , which was published in that
city by John Koelhoff, in the year 1499. The name of the author
is unknown, but he writes with the confidence of a clear-
minded thinker and a candid chronicler. He says that the
following statement was communicated to him, by word of
mouth, “by Master Ulric Zell, of Hanau, now a printer in
Cologne, through whom the art was brought to Cologne.”
Although the art [of printing], as has been said, was discovered at Mentz, in the
manner as it is now generally used, yet the first prefiguration was found in Holland,
in the Donatuses which were printed there before that time. From these Donatuses
the beginning of the said art was taken, and it was invented in a manner much more
masterly and subtle than this, and became more and more ingenious.129

Mariangelus Accursius, a learned Italian of the fifteenth
century, made a similar acknowledgment of the indebtedness of
the men whom he regarded as the inventors of typography to
the unknown printers of the Donatus in Holland. He says:
John Fust, a citizen of Mentz, and the maternal grandfather of John Schœffer, was
the first who devised the art of printing with types from brass, which he subsequently
invented in lead. Peter Schœffer, his son, added many improvements to the art. The
Donatus and Confessionalia were printed first of all, in the year 1450. But the
suggestion [of typography] was certainly made by the Donatuses that had been
printed before in Holland, from wooden blocks.

This extract first appeared in an Appendix to the Library of
the Vatican , which was written by Angelo Rocca, and p257

published at Rome in 1591. Rocca says that this statement is in
the handwriting of Mariangelus Accursius, who affixed his
name to it. On this page it is not necessary to point out the
many errors of Accursius about the origin of the invention at
Mentz; it is enough to show that he believed that the Donatus
was printed in Holland before types were made in Germany. It
is not known, however, whether he acquired this information
from the Cologne Chronicle or from another source.
Joseph Justus Scaliger, an eminent scholar of the sixteenth
century, says that printing was invented in Holland, and that the
first block-book with text was a breviary or manual of devotion.
It seems that this book was like the Horarium , of which a fac-
simile will be shown on an advanced page.
Printing was invented at Dordrecht, by engraving on blocks, and the letters were
run together as in writing. My grandmother had a psalter printed after this fashion
with a cover two fingers thick. Inside of this cover was a little recess in which was
placed a little crucifix of silver. The first book that was printed was a breviary or
manual, and one would have thought that it had been written by hand. It belonged to
the grandmother of Julius Cæsar Scaliger. A little dog destroyed it, much to his
vexation, for the letters were conjoined, and had been printed from a block of wood,
upon which the letters were so engraved that they could be used for this book and for
no other. Afterward was invented a method of using the letters separately.

This record is of interest for its specification of Dordrecht in
Holland as the birthplace of block-books, but it does not give
any date, nor the name of the first printer. As it has not been
corroborated by the testimony of any other chronicler, it is now
regarded by the historians of typography as imperfect evidence
—incorrect, probably, in its assertion of the priority of the
breviary, but trustworthy so far as it shows that this learned
antiquarian had some really valuable evidences concerning a
very early practice of block-printing in Holland.
Sweinheym and Pannartz, the German printers, who
introduced typography in Rome, and published more books
than they could sell, in the year 1472 petitioned Pope Sixtus IV
p258 for relief. In the catalogue accompanying their petition

they describe this Donatus as the “Donatus for Boys, from
which we have taken the beginning of printing.” Their language
is not clear, for it may be interpreted as the first book printed by
Sweinheym and Pannartz, or as the first book made by the art
of printing.

Fac-simile of part of a Block of the Donatus in the National Library at Paris. ♠
[From Lacroix.]

The National Library at Paris has two very old xylographic
blocks130 of this book, which some bibliographers suppose
were made about the middle of the fifteenth century. The letters
on these blocks were more carefully drawn and sharply
engraved than the letters of any known block-book. The wood
is worm-eaten, but the letters are neat and clear, and do not
show any evidences of wear from impression.
One of these blocks has been attributed to John Gutenberg,
for its letters resemble those of the Mazarin Bible . It p259 has
been conjectured that this block may have been one of

Gutenberg’s earlier experiments in printing. Apart from the
similarity of the characters, there is no warrant for this
conjecture. This similarity is entirely insufficient as evidence; it
is not even proof of age. The block was probably engraved
during the last quarter of the fifteenth century.

Fac-simile of the Fragment of an early Donatus. ♠
[From Koning.]

Koning, author of a treatise on early printing in Holland, has
given in his book the fac-simile, which is here copied, of a
fragment of a leaf from a xylographic Donatus . It was taken
from the cover of a book printed by Gerard Leeu, of Antwerp,
in 1490. Koning says that the fashion of the letters in this book
is like that of letters in the manuscripts of Holland during the
fifteenth century, and that they closely resemble the engraved
letters of one edition of the Ars Moriendi . Holtrop gives a fac-
simile of the entire page of a xylographic Donatus with similar
letters, which he claims as a piece of early Dutch printing.
The arrangement of words in Koning’s fac-simile of this
fragment cannot be passed by without notice. The words are
more readable than those of many block-books, but I have reset
a small portion in modern type, that they might be more clearly
contrasted with the modern method of composition. The words

that do not appear in the mutilated fragment given by Koning
are restored from the perfect copy of Holtrop.
THE OLD METHOD.

THE MODERN METHOD.
Present Tense. Imperfect Tense.
Singular. Plural. Singular. Plural.
Lego, Legimus, Legebam, Legebamus
Legis, Legitis, Legebas, Legebatis,
Legit, Legunt, Legebat, Legebant.

This fac-simile gives an imperfect notion of the
abbreviations, the blackness and obscurity of a page of the
Donatus , but it is a fair specimen of the forbidding appearance
of all the printed work of the fifteenth century. The illustration
of the modern method of arranging the same letters shows the
superior perspicuity of modern types and of modern
typographic method. Not every reader of this age has a just idea
of the extent of his obligation to what may be called the minor
improvements of typography. It may be safely said that many
men owe much of their scholastic knowledge to the systematic
arrangement and the inviting appearance of modern types and
books. The school-boy who glances over this fac-simile will
quickly see the depth of the quagmire from which he has been
delivered by the invention of types.

Fac-simile of an early Dutch Horarium. ♠
[From Koning.]

To support his theory that this fragment of the Donatus is but
a part of one of the many copies of the book which were printed
in Holland before the invention of typography, Koning submits
the fac-simile of a page from an old Horarium , or manual of
devotion, which was copied by him from the original block. He
says that this block once belonged to Adrien Rooman, a
Haarlem printer of the seventeenth century, who had received it
from one of the descendants of Coster. That Coster engraved or
printed this block is highly improbable, but it is, without doubt,
a p261 very old piece of engraving. It can be fairly attributed to
the fifteenth century, but no good evidence has been adduced to

show that it was made before the invention of types. The block
is practically worn out: the letters have been so flattened by
impression that many of them are illegible.
It must here be noticed that the letters of this Horarium do
not interlock, as they do in many of the block-books. A ruled
line drawn between the printed lines will show only a few and
unimportant interferences of letters. This evenness in lining,
which is properly regarded as one of the peculiarities of
typography, seems out of place in an early block-book. But it is
not confined to the Horarium . There are copies of the
xylographic Donatus that closely resemble typographic
editions of the same period. They agree, line with line, page
with page, and almost letter for letter, with the typographic
model. That these xylographic copies were made from the
engraved transfers of some typographic model is proved not
only by the uniformity and parallelism of the letters, but by the
square outline to the right of every page. These peculiarities are
never produced in the workmanship of men who draw letters on
a block.
It is not strange that the block-book printers should have
imitated the work and the mannerisms of the typographers. It
was easier to transfer the letters than to draw them; easier to cut
the letters for a book of twenty or thirty pages than to cut the
punches, make the moulds, and cast and compose the types.
The blocks having been engraved, the block-printer had the
superior advantage. His blocks, like modern stereotype plates,
were always ready for use. He could print a large or small
edition at pleasure. And what was of much more importance, he
could print more legibly from his smooth plates of wood than
the amateur typographer could from his uneven surface of lead.
The significance of the fact that letters were engraved by
block-printers after typographic models will be more plainly
seen when we examine the editions of the Speculum Salutis ,

p262 a book which has been claimed by Dutch historians as the
first production of the newly invented art of typography.
The irregular manner in which all the early xylographers
drew and engraved letters on the block is fairly shown in this
fac-simile of the imprint of Conrad Dinckmut, of Ulm, who
affixed it to a Donatus printed by him in 1480. It will be seen
that parallel lines ruled between the printed lines would
interfere with almost every ascending or descending letter.

Reduced Fac-simile of the Imprint of Conrad Dinckmut. ♠
[From De la Borde.]

The Donatus clearly shows the retrogressive tendencies of
the teachers of that age. It was originally written for scholars
who spoke in Latin, and who, when the book was first placed in
their hands, knew the meaning of almost every word. In the
fifteenth century Latin was a dead language, but the book that
had been written a thousand years before received no
modification adapting it to the capacities of the German or
Dutch boys, to whom Latin was as strange as Chinese.131 The
p263 rules and the explanations, as well as the text, were in
Latin. The boy who began to study the book was compelled to
translate the words and rules before he knew the simplest
elements of the language. The difficulty of the task will be
understood if we imagine an American boy beginning the study
of German, not with a German grammar in which the
explanations are in English, but with the grammar that is now

used in the schools of Germany. We find no trace of any other
school-book in the form of a block-book. There was no other
book of equal popularity. To the scholar of the middle ages
there was no science that could be compared with Latin; there
was no knowledge like that of the words of the dead language.
Words were held of more value than facts. The teachers of the
fifteenth century clung to this obsolete book, and compelled
their pupils to go through the same barren course of study that
had been used in the fifth century. In this fixed purpose we see
something more than the force of habit: there was a general
unwillingness to make the acquisition of knowledge in any way
attractive.
The limitations of xylography are plainly set forth in this
review of the more famous block-books. During the first half of
the fifteenth century, labor was cheap, skill in engraving was
not rare, paper was in abundant supply, the art of block-printing
was known all over civilized Europe, and there was a growing
demand for printed work, but this rude art of block-printing was
limited to the production of pictures. It was never applied to the
production of books of size or merit. The Wonders of Rome ,
with its text of one hundred and sixty-eight pages, is its most
ambitious attempt; but large as this work may seem when it is
put in contrast with other block-books, it is really insignificant
when compared with the works of the first typographers.

XIV

Its Popularity as a Manuscript Book . . . Made for Mendicant Friars . . . Description
of the Text . . . Fac-similes of Wood-cuts on First and Last Pages . . . Its Curious
Theology . . . Four Editions of the Book . . . Their Peculiarities . . . Twenty
Engraved Pages in one Edition . . . Strange Blemishes . . . Opinions of
Bibliographers concerning the Date and Printer . . . Text of the Book Printed from
Types . . . Fac-simile of the Types . . . Different Bodies of Types in Different
Editions . . . Engraved Pages were Transferred from Types . . . Book Printed in
Four Kinds of Ink . . . By Two Methods of Impression . . . Types and Cuts could
not be Printed together . . . Opinions about the Quality of the Presswork . . .
Strange Faults of Presswork . . . All Editions were Printed in Holland . . . Wood-
cuts used for the last time by Veldener in 1483 . . . Not Probable that Veldener
Printed the Earlier Editions . . . Veldener did not use the Types . . . The Speculum
is the Work of an Unknown Printer.

T H E Speculum Salutis 132 was popular as a man­us­cript for at
least two centuries before the in­ven­tion of typ­o­graphy.
Heineken describes a copy in the imperial library of Vienna,
which he at­tributes to the twelfth cen­tury. He says, such was the
popularity of the work with the Bene­dic­tines that almost every
monastery pos­sessed a copy of it. Of the four manus­cript copies
owned by the British Museum, one is supposed to have been
written in the thirteenth century, another copy is in the Flemish
writing of the fif­teenth century. The printed p265 book contains

forty-five chapters of barbarous Latin rhymes, the literary merit
of which is clearly enough set before us in Chatto’s faithful
translation of four lines of the preface:

This preface of contents, stating what this book’s about,
For the sake of all poor preachers I have fairly written out.
If the purchase of the book entire should be above their reach,
This preface yet may serve them, if they know but how to preach.133

In many features, the Speculum resembles the Bible of the
Poor . As the designs are in the same style, and as the
engravings show the same mannerisms, it has been supposed
that both books were made by the same printer; but this
conjecture is opposed by many facts and probabilities.
The illustration at the beginning of this chapter is a fac-
simile of the upper part of the first pictorial page. In the
compartment to the right may be seen the Fall of Lucifer. The
rebellious angels having been transformed into devils, and by
swords and spears thrust over the battlements of Heaven, are
falling into the jaws of Hell, which is here represented, in the
conventional style of medieval designers, as the mouth of a
hideous monster filled with forks of flame. In the next
compartment is the Creation of Eve in the garden of Eden. Here
we see that the designer has modified the biblical narrative to
suit his own notions: Eve is not formed from the rib of Adam,
but is emerging from his side. At the bottom of this picture is
this legend in abbreviated Latin, God created man after his own
image and likeness. p267

Fac-simile of the Upper Part of the First Pictorial Page of the♠
Speculum Salutis.
[From Heineken.]

An illustration on the last page of the book represents the
Parable of the Ten Virgins, to which is added the legend, The
Kingdom of Heaven is likened unto Ten Virgins. The five
foolish virgins are sadly descending into the mouth of the

monster that represents Hell. Another illustration represents the
prophet Daniel interpreting the writing on the wall.
Hessel’s free translation of a large portion of the preface is
really needed to show the theological teachings of the book.

Fac-simile of the Upper Part of the Last Page of the ♠
Speculum Salutis.
[From Heineken.]

This is the preface of the Spieghel onser be­hou­de­nisse , which will teach many
people right­eous­ness, and to shine as the stars in eternal eter­nities. It is for this
reason that I have thought of compiling, as an instruction for many, this book, from
which those who read it will give and receive instruction. I presume that nothing is in
this life more useful to a man than to acknowledge his Creator, his condition, his
own being. Scholars may learn this from the Scriptures, and the layman shall be
taught by the books of the laymen, that is by the pictures. Wherefore I have thought
fit, with the help of God, to compile this book for laymen to the glory of God, and as
an instruction for the unlearned, in order that it may be a lesson both to clerks and to
laymen. It will be sufficient to explain the matter briefly. I mean first to show the fall
of Lucifer and the angels. Then the fall of our first parents and their posterity.
Thereupon, how God delivered us by his assuming flesh, and with what figures he
whilom prefigured this assuming. It is to be observed that many histories are given in
this work, which could not be explained from word to word, for a teacher does not
want to explain more of the histories than he thinks necessary for their meaning. And
in order that this may be seen better and clearer, I give this parable. . . . . There was
an abbey, in which stood a large oak, which, on account of the narrowness and
smallness of the town, they were compelled to cut down. When it was cut down, the
workmen came together, and each of them chose whatever he thought would suit his
trade. The smith cut off the undermost block, which he thought suitable for a forge;
the shoemaker took the bark for making leather; the swineherd, the acorns for
feeding pigs; the carpenter, the straight wood for a roof; the shipwright, the crooked
wood; the miller digs the roots up, as they are fit, on account of their solidity, for the
mill; the baker uses the thin twigs for his oven; the sexton of the church, the leaves
for decorating the church at festivals; the butler, the branches for barrels and mugs;
the cook, the chips for the kitchen. . . . . Just now, as here every one chose his liking
from the hewn tree, so they do with Holy Writ. The same method has been followed
regarding the histories which will be explained. Every teacher collects from them
what he thinks proper and useful. I shall follow the same way with regard to this
work, leaving out altogether some part of the histories, that it may not offend those
who will hear and read it. Let us also observe that Holy Writ is like soft wax, which
assumes the shape of all forms impressed upon it. Does, for instance, the stamp
contain a lion? the soft wax will contain the same; and if it bears an ear, the soft wax
will bear the same figure. So one thing signifies, sometimes the Devil, and
sometimes Christ. However, we ought not to be astonished at this manner of the
Scriptures, for divers significations may be ascribed to the divers performances of a
thing or a person. When David, the king, committed both adultery and p269 man-
slaughter, he represented not Christ but the Devil. And when he loved his enemies,
and did them good, he bore within him the figure of Christ and not of the Devil. . . . .
This is why I have noticed these remarkable things here, for I thought it useful to
those who study the Holy Scriptures, that they should not judge me, if they happened
to find such things in this book, for the manner of translation and exposition is so. O
good Jesus, give me works and a Christian devotion which may please thee.
Equally curious is the explanation of the marriage of the mother of God with
Joseph. It appears from this, that it was not thought superfluous to justify a fact
somewhat strange in regard to the doctrine of the supernatural incarnation of the
second person of the Godhead. The author of the Speculum assigns eight reasons for