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Early Typography.
CHAPTER III.
ОглавлениеJohn Gutenberg.—First attempts at Typography in Strasburg.—Difficulties.—Invention of the Press.—Lawsuit.—Return to Mentz.—Connection with Faust.—Success.—Mazarin Bible the first book printed from moveable metal types.—Second Lawsuit.—Forfeiture of Plant to Faust.—Peter Schœffer.—Invention of Type-founding.—Faust and Schœffer.—The Gutenberg ‘printing house.’—Gutenberg attached to the Court of the Elector of Mentz.—Death.
Until the publication in the Hague of Meerman’s Origines Typographicæ (1765)—a work based upon the traditions inserted in Hadrian Junius’s Batavia, first published in 1588—the man to whom the whole of Europe, with hardly a dissentient voice, ascribed the honor of the invention of the Art of Typography, was John Gutenberg.[32] a native of Mentz. He was of honorable descent; his family being included among the junckers and nobility, the equestrian order of the country, and possessing a small estate situated in the neighbourhood of Mentz, called Sulgeloch, on which estate he was born, about the year 1399. His father, Frielo, had besides him, an elder son, Conrad, who died some time previous to the year 1424, and Frielo, a younger, who was living in 1459; and two daughters, Bertha and Hebele, both of whom became nuns in the Convent of St. Clair at Mentz. In addition to the above-mentioned estate, the family owned two houses in the city of Mentz, one of which was called ‘Zum Gansfleisch,’ and the other ‘Zum Gutenberg.’ The latter of these formed part of the property of his mother, Elsy of Gutenberg. John Gutenberg, junior,[33] left Mentz in early life for Strasburg, where he settled and obtained rights of citizenship, and established himself in business as a polisher of precious stones, and a mirror and looking-glass manufacturer, in both which arts he is said to have shewn considerable skill. The precise date of his arrival and settlement in Strasburg has not been ascertained, but that it was prior to 1424 is known from a letter written to his sister Bertha, on the 24th March of that year;[34] probably it was about the year 1420, and may have been occasioned by the political disturbances of the time. His name frequently appears in the city documents and registers, and he occasionally visited Mentz. He left Strasburg finally about the year 1444. Of great natural sagacity, gifted with an inventive genius, and of indomitable perseverance, the increasing thirst for knowledge which at this period was every where manifesting itself, arrested his attention, and convinced him of the desirability, as well as the profitableness, of devising some method for its more ready and abundant supply.
The problem of the mechanical multiplication of manuscripts had already been partially solved in the block-books which were manufactured in Holland. In the study of these, Gutenberg perceived the immense advantages which would follow from having every letter made separate, with sufficient quantities of each to allow of their being combined into words, sentences, and pages, instead of continuously engraving whole series of lines in solid blocks as in the specimens before him. That idea once clearly seen, time and patience, with the ability to engrave, were all that were required for its realization, so far at least as concerned the mere making of the types or letters. The first experiments would naturally be, as indeed we are informed they were, on wood. And one can well imagine the flush of triumph that mantled on his brow, when, after having engraved a few continuous sentences, or sets of alphabets, with spaces between each line and letter; and after having sawn each line asunder, and separated each letter from the one adjoining, and trimmed and squared the whole to his mind, Gutenberg recomposed the letters into words, and other words, which differed from the original, and saw his cherished thought worked out complete before him.
But, while thus on the very threshold of success, obstacles and difficulties began to present themselves, which taxed his ingenuity and tried his perseverance to an extent which it was scarcely possible for him to have foreseen. In the first place, whatever plan he may have adopted to produce impressions in his earliest experiments, he could not fail to find out in a very short time that the Chinese method, adopted by the block-book printers, would not answer for his separable types; and moreover, that the fine strokes and edges of his wooden letters were liable to damage and destruction from other causes besides those arising from the amount of pressure it was necessary to subject them to in order to ensure a clear readable impression. It was necessary therefore to resort to metal. This was, in itself, a serious matter to begin with, for engraving on metal is a much more difficult, tedious, and expensive process, than engraving on wood. With separable types, and direct perpendicular pressure to produce impressions, a different kind of ink or pigment to that hitherto used by scribes, or stencillers, or block-book printers, also became necessary, as well as a different method of applying it to the face of the types; and many an experiment must have been made, and much time and money lost, before these difficulties were overcome, and success attained in these as in the preceding step.[35]
The chief difficulty—the greatest obstacle in the way of putting to a practical use the Types as now designed, and thus bringing the Typographic Art before the world—was the want of the Letter Press. To overcome this obstacle, to conquer this difficulty, was Gutenberg’s great task. There was, in point of fact, no particular ingenuity or inventive faculty required in making separable letters. The keen perception which saw the advantages to be gained from such separation, was, no doubt, a sure indication that Gutenberg was a man of mark—one whose mental gifts transcended those ordinarily possessed by his fellow-men. But the realization of the idea of separating the letters was a task which mainly depended on the amount of manual and mechanical dexterity brought to bear upon its execution. The higher efforts of genius, and the development of the inventive faculties were displayed in the subsequent steps, and in none more notably than in the invention of the Press.
The question—Who invented the Printing Press?—has never yet, it is believed, been thoroughly considered or satisfactorily answered. A writer in the Encyclopædia Britannica says, “It is probable that one of the difficulties which Gutenberg found insuperable at Strasburg was the construction of a machine of sufficient power to take impressions of the type or blocks then employed. Nor is it at all wonderful that even the many years during which he resided at that city should have been insufficient to produce the requisite means; for what with cutting his type, forming his screws, inventing and compounding his ink, and constructing the means for applying the ink when made, his time in the Alsatian capital must have been fully occupied.” And he goes on to argue that the Press was probably the joint production of Gutenberg, Faust and Schœffer, during the time of their association in Mentz. But for such a belief there is no real ground whatever.
Mr. Hansard, although he devotes 166 pages of his voluminous work[36] to an account of Presses and Printing machines, strangely enough heads his first chapter on the subject “Construction of the Original Printing Press by Blaew of Amsterdam.” But Blaew lived two centuries after the original invention, and was only an improver of certain of its parts. Of the original inventor he says not a word.
Mr. M‘Creery, a contemporary of Hansard, in his poem the “Press,”[37] reprinted in the Typographia, apostrophises Gutenberg and Mentz in the following terms:—
“Sire of our Art, whose genius first design’d
This great memorial of a daring mind,
And taught the lever with unceasing play,
To stop the waste of Time’s destructive sway!
* * * * *
O Mentz! proud city, long thy fame enjoy,
For with the Press thy glory ne’er shall die;
Still may thy guardian battlements withstand
The ruthless shock of War’s destructive hand,
Where Gutenberg with toil incessant wrought
The imitative lines of written thought;
And, as his Art a nobler effort made
The sweeping lever his commands obeyed:”—
But although, poetically, Mr. M‘Creery thus ascribes the invention to the man and place to whom it rightfully belongs, I do not know (not having the original edition to refer to) whether he intended anything more. I suspect not, since otherwise Mr. Hansard would scarcely have failed to have made use of any information in the notes to the poem which tended to throw light on a subject of so much historical importance.
Other writers pass the subject by with the remark, that “Of the mechanical construction of these presses there is little or no record.” One of the latest authorities, Mr. Blades, the able palæotypographist, thus dismisses it:—“The method of obtaining an impression by a direct pressure downwards is generally supposed to have been synchronous with the use of moveable types. Mr. Ottley, however, describes several of the earliest wood blocks, which he had no doubt were printed by means of a press. Of one he states ‘I am in possession of a specimen of wood engraving, printed in black oil colour on both sides the paper by a downright pressure, which I consider to have been, without doubt, printed in or before the year 1445.’ There can be no question therefore that the earliest type printers found a press ready to their hands.”[38] But this is a very unconvincing method of reasoning; and a positive conclusion founded upon a mere opinion given in regard to the supposed age of an old engraving—a subject upon which the ablest experts differ—is one which is open to very considerable question.
It has already been stated, (pp. 42–43) that before the invention of the press, impressions were usually taken on one side only of the paper or vellum; although the possibility of their being taken on both sides is admitted. Mr. Ottley says “the best proof that the printer knew how to print on both sides of his paper, is that he did so;”[39] and he mentions two instances where, on a single leaf, the text of the Speculum is so printed.[40] The inference which these writers intended should be drawn from the above statements is, that the press used by the printer of the Speculum was essentially the same as that subsequently used by the printers at Mentz.
But what is the evidence in the case? All that can be brought forward is the nature of the ink, and the appearance of the printed pages. As regards the ink, it differed from that used at a later period in Germany, and was certainly much more fluid; this is shewn by its spreading over the edges, and filling up the loops of the letters. By itself, however, the ink proves nothing as to how the types were impressed; that is to be learnt from the appearance of the pages; and this shews that impressions were taken by a rolling process. A wooden or metallic roller, 7 inches long, with a diameter of not less than 3 inches, and covered with two or three folds of fine woollen cloth, rolled, with a sufficient amount of pressure, over the back of the paper when it was laid upon the types after they had been inked—or an uncovered roller, if two or three folds of woollen cloth were laid over the paper—would do all that was needed, and be quite sufficient to account for the practice of printing on one side of the paper only. The statement how such an impression might be taken, is not however a proof that such was in reality the method adopted. That proof lies in the fact, that the capital letters of the columns of text on the left hand margin, and the end letters of the lines on the right, are all more or less blurred, and choked with ink, in a way which only such a cylindrical method of printing would effect; that effect being caused by the first and last contact of the roller with the outer edges of the types. In cylindrical machine printing at the present day, where care has not been taken to guard the edges and ends of the types by ‘bearings,’ similar blurrings may at any time be seen. In the admittedly rude appliances of the earliest printers such appearances would under such a process be at least as plainly shewn. And in the absolute fac-simile which Mr. Humphreys gives, on plate 10 of his work, of the page of the Speculum printed from separable letters with black oleaginous ink, those appearances are most plainly visible. Of course it was possible to print sheets of paper in this way on both sides; but care would have to be taken to guard the first printed side by interposing between it and the roller a waste or setting-off sheet, before the process was repeated. And, as already hinted, by the use of ‘bearings,’ the blurring might be avoided. The difference however between such a process and that invented and put in practice by Gutenberg, is as great as that which exists between the battering rams and catapults of the ancients, and the siege trains of modern artillerists.
Admitting then that impressions from type could be taken on both sides of a sheet, the mere fact that a single leaf was so printed in two editions of the same ancient work, is no proof whatever that the said impressions were made with a press such as was used by the printers at Mentz, the invention of which became a necessity in order to complete the Typographic Art. What it does prove, is, that the printer of the Speculum, with the appliances then at his command, preferred the easier, simpler, and safer method of printing on one side only.
But in the consideration of this subject there are other questions which ought not to be overlooked;—e.g. For what special purposes, and for whom, were the Donatuses and Block-books printed? Certainly not for the public at large. The Donatuses—small elementary Latin grammars—would be for a few of the superior monastic schools of the day; and the Biblia Pauperum, Ars Memorandi, Speculum Salutis, &c., were avowedly for “the assistance of poor preachers,”—“propter pauperes predicatores.” Editions of these works would therefore be small in number, and the time taken in their production would not be an object of much account. Mr. Ottley supposes (p. 283) that they would not exceed 20, 40, or 60 copies each. The market for them, consequently, might very easily be overstocked. Now as regards the most ancient Speculums printed in Holland, it is by no means improbable, that, as two editions in Latin and two in Dutch followed one another in quick succession, the printer did overstock the market, and had to cease work in consequence. It is at any rate certain, that the cuts were laid aside for a length of time, and were not reprinted until 1483, when Veldener, then printing at Culembourg, issued an edition in small 4to., sawing the pictorial headings in two in order to suit his purpose. This branch of the subject is of some importance in its bearings on the question of the origin of block printing in Holland, and will be more fully considered in a subsequent chapter.
Gutenberg we may fairly presume, (relying upon documentary evidences for the presumption), aware of the nature and extent of the demand that existed for such productions, foresaw how a new public want might be created by means of new inventions for further developing the new-born art. Separable types with the then known methods for making use of them, were but as acorns in comparison with stately full grown oaks—but sickly stunted bushes, instead of luxuriant vines, from whose wide-spreading boughs the thickly clustered bunches of ripe, refreshing, life-giving fruit should be sought for far and near. How to excite and satisfy this want was the problem constantly revolving in his mind. It soon became evident, that a machine capable of rapidly striking off copies of works that were to be set up in types, was a necessity of the case; and to meet that necessity all his energies were bent. The time and money spent in working out his ideas—in constructing the original Letter-press—is shewn in the evidence which has been preserved, the bearing of which seems to have been hitherto strangely misapprehended.
“The earliest printing press” says Mr. Charles Knight, “was nothing more than a common screw-press—such as a cheese press, or a napkin press.” He gives no authority for the assertion, but he immediately adds, thereby largely qualifying it—“with a contrivance for running the forme of types under the screw after the forme was inked.”[41] In this ‘contrivance,’ with some few others, which were its necessary adjuncts—however simple the matter may seem now-a-days to eyes accustomed to look upon machinery and mechanical appliances of all kinds and varieties—lay the chief difficulty. The screw, from its power and adjustability, would naturally suggest itself as the appliance best suited to effect the purpose aimed at. But how to contrive to make the screw an effective agent in producing impressions from types, was the question which Gutenberg had to consider. His separable letters were ready to his hand; but without the press, which he had yet to make, and to find out how to make, they were as useless to him as unstrung harp-strings are unmusical until they are keyed and stretched and tuned, and made to emit soul-thrilling harmonies at the master touch of the fingers of the finished harpist.
Satisfied with the result of his experiments as to types, a new series of experiments had to be entered upon before he could hope to realize his expectations in regard to them. These he carried on in his residence at St. Arbogaste, in the suburbs of Strasburg.
In his business as a stone polisher, we learn, from his own declarations, that several years previous to 1436, he had taught that art to one Andrew Dritzehen. Subsequently, “a long time afterwards,” he engaged in the manufacture of looking-glasses, along with Johan Riffe, the prefect or mayor of Lichtenow. Andrew Dritzehen, learning this, requested Gutenberg to teach him that art as well; and a similar request was at the same time made on behalf of Andrew Heilman, by his brother Anthonie. Upon their entering into an agreement, whereby they bound themselves to pay him certain premiums for so doing, Gutenberg complied with their requests. But one year, after making preparations for attending the fair held at the time of the pilgrimages to the shrines at Aix-la-Chapelle, the journey was suddenly put off until the year following, owing to the postponement of the fair. Deprived of the opportunity of increasing their gains, the two Andrews, with enforced unprofitable leisure upon their hands, made an unexpected visit to St. Arbogaste, where they found Gutenberg busily engaged upon matters, the secret of which he seemed determined to keep to himself. After much importunity, however, he consented to reveal to them, upon certain conditions, “all the wonderful and secret arts that he knew, without any exception.” The conditions were, that they on the one side, and he and Riffe on the other, should cancel the existing agreement, and enter into a new one; that they should conjointly pay to him the sum of 250 florins, making, with 160 previously paid for being taught the art of making looking-glasses, 410 in all; that 100 was to be paid immediately, and the remainder at stated periods; and that their share of the profits was to be one-third, the remaining two-thirds being divided between Gutenberg and Riffe. It was further agreed, that the partnership for carrying on “the wonderful art,” should be for a term of five years; but that if any one of the partners died before the expiration of that period, the survivors should, at its expiration, pay to the representatives of the deceased the sum of one hundred florins, retaining in their own hands “all the utensils and implements of the art, and all works perfected by the instruments.”
This partnership was entered into about the year 1436. Upon the completion of the agreement the implements and materials for the new art were removed from St. Arbogaste to the house of Andrew Dritzehen, with whom, as perhaps the ablest mechanic in the association, Gutenberg thenceforth carried on his experiments. These seem to have nearly approached completion, when Dritzehen was unfortunately seized with an illness which ended fatally. His death took place in 1438, before the expiration of the term allotted for the partnership, and while he was still indebted to Gutenberg in the sum of eighty-five florins. Gutenberg, as soon as he heard of his death, sent his servant Laurence Beildeck, to Nicholas Dritzehen, the brother of the deceased, and requested that no one might be admitted into the workshop, lest the secret should be discovered, or the materials be stolen. But they had already disappeared; and this fraud, as well as the claims of George and Nicholas Dritzehen to succeed to their brother’s share, produced a lawsuit with the surviving partners.
In the prosecution of this lawsuit, out of a large number of witnesses summoned, the depositions of sixteen were taken; and in the following extracts from the evidence of the most material, we may gather what the secret was which Gutenberg was so desirous to preserve.
“John Schultheissen deposed, that Laurence Beildeck came to his house, to see Nicholas Dritzehen, when Andrew Dritzehen was lying dead, and that the said Laurence Beildeck thus spoke to the said Nicholas Dritzehen:—‘Your brother, Andrew Dritzehen, now happy, had four “stücke” lying underneath in a press. Therefore John Gutenberg desires that you will take them therefrom, and thoroughly separate them one from the other, and lay them on the press, so that it may not be seen what it is.’ Then Nicholas Dritzehen went and looked for the ‘stücke,’ but found nothing.”
“Item, Hannsz Schultheisz hatt geseit das Lorentz Beildeck zu einer zit heim inn sin husz kommen sy zü Claus Dritzehen als diser gezuge jn heim gefürt hette, Als Andres Dritzehen sin bruder selige von todes wegen abgangen was, und sprach da Lorentz Beildeck zu Claus Dritzehen, Andres Dritzehen uwer bruder selige hat iiij stücke undenan inn einer pressen ligen, da hatt uch Hanns Gutemberg gebetten das ir die darusz nement und uff die presse legent von einander so kan man nit gesehen was das ist, Also gieng Claus Dritzehen und suchete die stücke do vant er nutzit.”
“Conrad Sahspach deposed, that Andrew Heilman came to him in Kremer street and said, ‘My dear Conrad, as Andrew Dritzehen is departed, and as you made the presses, and know about the matter, do you go thither and take the “stücke” from the presses, and disjoin them from one another, so that no man may know what it is.’ But when this witness wanted to do so, and looked for them on the morrow of St. Stephen’s day, the whole was gone.”
“Item, Cunrad Sahspach hatt geseit das Andres Heilman zu einer zit zu jme komen sy inn Kremer gasse und sprach zu jme lieber Cunrad als Andres Dritzehen abgangen ist da hastu die pressen gemaht und weist umb die sache do gang dohin und nym die stücke usz der pressen und zerlege sü von einander so weis nyemand was es ist, da nu diser gezuge das tun wolte und also suchete das were uff Sanct Steffans tag nehst vergangen do was das ding hinweg.”
“Laurence Beildeck declared, that he was sent by Gutenberg to Nicholas Dritzehen, after the death of Andrew his brother of happy memory, to tell him, that he should shew the presses he had under his care to no man; and this the witness stated, he did. He said moreover, that Gutenberg told him to take good care to go to the press, and to open the two ‘wurbelin,’ so that the ‘stücke’ should be separated from one another, and that he should place the ‘stücke’ upon the press, so that no man seeing might understand them.”
“Lorenz Beildeck het geseit das Johann Gutenberg in zu einer zit geschickt het zu Claus Dritzehen, nach Andres sins bruders seligen dode und det Clausen Dritzehen sagen das er die presse die er hünder jm het nieman oigete zoigete, das ouch diser gezug det, und rette ouch me und sprach er solte sich bekumbern so vil und gon über die presse und die mit den zweyen würbelin uff dun so vielent die stücke voneinander, dieselben stücke solt er dann in die presse oder uff die presse lege so kunde darnach nieman gesehen noch ut gemercken.”
“Herr Anthonie Heilman deposed, that being aware that Gutenberg was about to take Andrew Dritzehen as a third partner into the society for the manufacture of looking-glasses for the Aix-la-Chapelle market, he earnestly begged of him to admit therein his brother Andrew, as he wished to serve him.” After some demur this was agreed to. Witness supplied his brother with money to the extent of 90 pounds, but at last said, “What can you want with so much money, seeing that the sum agreed upon was only 80 florins?—to which Andrew answered, ‘that he must have money for other purposes; and that two or three days before the vigil of the Annunciation, he was to pay 80 florins to Gutenberg, which he, witness, must advance to him.’ … Gutenberg afterwards said to witness, that in acknowledgment of what he had received, they (the partners) should be upon the same footing in every thing, and that in future nothing should be concealed from any of them respecting the remaining work.” … “A long time afterwards Gutenberg repeated this.” After which, a document was drawn up by Gutenberg for the other partners to sign, which they did after considerable deliberation, Gutenberg, before their doing so, telling them, “there is as much stuff in the concern as quite equals your money; so that, in fact, the knowledge of the art is given you for nothing.” The terms of the agreement with Gutenberg were, that in this matter they were to consider themselves beholden to him alone, and not to John Riffe; and “that in case any one of them should be removed from the partnership by death, that then it should be well understood—and so it was—that the matter should be so arranged with his heirs, that, for all things done or undone, for money advanced by or belonging to the share of such person, for the value of the stock, the forms, and all other implements and materials not excepted, they (the surviving partners) should, after the expiration of five years, pay to his heirs 100 florins. So that he, Gutenberg, as he observed, gave them a great advantage; for were he himself to die, after he had once admitted them into the partnership, his heirs, notwithstanding the sums previously expended by him, would only have to receive 100 florins for his share, like those of any of the others. All this was done, to the intent that whosoever of them should die, the surviving partners should not be obliged to make known, or to shew to his heirs, any thing concerning the art; which article was approved by every one of them.”
This witness also said, “that he well knows that Gutenberg, not long before Christmas, sent his servant to both the Andrews (Dritzehen and Heilman) to fetch all the ‘formen,’ that they might be taken out, and that he should see it done, as he was dissatisfied, and wished to renew [alter or change] them.”
There is an obscurity in the original of this last passage which makes it difficult to translate; but it is believed that the meaning intended to be conveyed is that given above. Oberlin, who thought the passage referred to metal types, renders it “Gutenberg sent his servant to bring together all the different forms, which were [to be] pulled to pieces before him, because there were some with which he was not satisfied.” Santander, taking the same view as Oberlin, renders the last clause of the sentence “parce qu’il avait des choses a corriger:—because there were things to be corrected.” This I believe to be an accurate translation, although I am satisfied that the ‘formen,’ to be corrected were not pages of type. The old German runs thus:—
“Dirre gezuge hat ouch geseit das er wol wisse das Gutenberg unlange vor Wihnahten sinen kneht sante zu den beden Andresen, alle formen zu holen und würdent zur lossen das er ess sehe, und jn joch ettliche formen ruwete.”
Mydehart Stocher, after deposing to what he knew of the facts of the partnership and the illness and death of Andrew Dritzehen; said that he had heard the deceased say “that God helping them, the work when completed, would find its way with the public, and that then he hoped and trusted, he would be delivered from his difficulties.”
John Niger von Bischovissheim deposed, “that Andrew once came to him and said that he wanted money … this witness then asked him what he was making? and he answered he was a looking-glass maker.”
Barbara von Zabern deposed, “that conversing once with Andrew Dritzehen, about bed time, she asked him, why he did not at last go to bed, and that he answered, ‘I must first finish what I have in hand.’ When she continued ‘But, God help me! what a sum of money you seem to be spending; why all these things must have cost at least 10 florins.’ And he replied, ‘You are a simpleton, Zabern! you think these things have cost 10 florins. Listen; if you had all they have cost above 300 florins, you would have enough to last you all your life. Why, they have cost over 500 florins! and they would be good for nothing, if they were not to cost still more; and that is the reason why I have sunk both my own and my expected inheritance in the matter.’ ‘But,’ said she, ‘if it should all turn out badly, what would you do then?’ And he answered, ‘That can never be; before a year is over we shall have back again all our capital, and be well off for ever; unless indeed, it should be the will of God to ruin us.’ ”
Reimbolt von Ehenheim said, “that a little before Christmas he went to Andrew, and asked him how he got on with the thing he was about? Andrew, of happy memory, replied, that it had cost him more than 500 florins, but he hoped that, when it should be finished, he would make a great deal of money, wherewith he would satisfy witness and others, and relieve himself from his cares;” &c.
Fridel von Seckingen said, “that Gutenberg had made a purchase,[42] and that he became surety for the payment; that Gutenberg, Andrew Heilman, and Andrew Dritzehen, had asked him to become their surety for 101 florins to Stolz the son-in-law of Peter; which he did, upon the condition that they three should give an acknowledgment of indemnity for the same; that Gutenberg and Heilman signed and sealed the indemnity, but Dritzehen did not; and that Gutenberg afterwards paid all the money, at the time of the last Lent fair.”
“Also, John Dünne, goldsmith, declared, that about three years previous he had received about 100 florins from Gutenberg, solely for materials relating to printing (or presses.”)
“Item, Hanns Dünne der goltsmyt hat geseit, das er vor dryen joren oder doby Gutemberg by den hundert guldin abe verdienet habe alleine das zu dem trucken gehöret.”
On the part of George and Nicholas Dritzehen it was shewn, that their brother Andrew, when on his death-bed, stated to his confessor that he had expended 200 or 300 florins in connection with the partnership, and that he did not then possess a single obolus.[43]
The suit lasted for nearly twelve months, but was decided against the Dritzehens; the magistrates adjudging the surviving partners to pay to the heirs of Andrew Dritzehen, the sum of 15 florins only, which, with the 85 he was indebted to Gutenberg at the time of his death, made up the hundred they had bound themselves, according to the contract of partnership, to pay to the heirs of any of their number who chanced to die during the term for which it was to last.
Neither in the evidence quoted, nor in any portion of the rest of the depositions, is anything said about ‘types’ or ‘letters.’ Mr. Humphreys, adopting the conjecture first made by M. Paul Lacroix, argues, that the evidence about looking-glasses to be manufactured, and the partners terming themselves looking-glass makers, is to be understood as meaning that they purposely adopted that term as a ruse to conceal the true meaning of their work, which was, in fact, the manufacture or printing of ‘Mirrors of Salvation.’ But this view can hardly be considered tenable, inasmuch as Anthonie Heilman shews, that his brother first entered into the partnership to learn the Art of making looking-glasses; and that it was not until afterwards—“a long time afterwards”—that the new arrangement was entered into about the remaining work—“The Art,”—the secret, in fact, for which they were to consider themselves beholden to Gutenberg alone, and not to Riffe. And this was the view the magistrates took. In their summing up of the case, they very distinctly state, that after having for several years taught Andrew Dritzehen the art of polishing stones, Gutenberg admitted him and Andrew Heilman as partners in a manufactory of looking-glasses, which articles he and John Riffe had before been accustomed to sell at the fairs at Aix-la-Chapelle; and that it was not until one year, when the fair had been unexpectedly put off until the year following, that Gutenberg agreed to reveal to them all the wonderful and secret arts that he knew, without any exception. The magistrates also referred to the evidence adduced as to various purchases, some or one of which was deposed to be of lead; and from this it may be inferred that the lead was intended for the manufacture of type. But there is nothing to shew that either Riffe or Dritzehen or Heilman was entrusted with the secret of the separable letters. If however, metal types had been the secret to be preserved, the fact of their being so would surely have somehow been more or less distinctly stated. But it was the four ‘stücke’ under the press—fixed or fastened by two ‘wurbelin,’ which, when opened, and the ‘stücke’ disjoined and separated one from the other, no one would understand the meaning of—as well as the ‘formen,’—that were the cause of Gutenberg and Heilman’s great anxiety. These four ‘stücke’ were certainly not four pages, or a forme of types, fastened together by two screws, which is the interpretation given, with a note of interrogation attached, by writers of repute, whose minds appear to have been so filled with the importance of the separable types, that they have failed to see how the word ‘stücke’ could apply to anything else in connection with printing. Had pages of type been meant, their being separated—either by being ‘distributed’ into type-cases, or ‘thrown into pye,’ as it is technically called—would not have effected the object of the direction given, “that no man might know what it is;” for any one seeing sundry boxes full, or heaps of small pieces of wood or metal, all of the same height and depth, and each with a letter engraved on its upper end, would scarcely fail to conclude that they were in some way connected with printing—especially if he knew of the existence of block-books, which at that day were by no means uncommon; nor would two screws have sufficed to fix or fasten a forme of four pages of type together.
Meerman thinks the four “stücke” alluded to were parts of a press; and Koning[44] is much of the same opinion, believing that Gutenberg was, at the time to which the evidence refers, occupied in endeavouring to construct a printing press of a more perfect kind than had been before known. Ottley, in his observations upon the evidence, disagrees with these writers. He says (p. 24,) “On the whole there is, I think, good reason to conclude that the press so often mentioned by the witnesses in the processes (for it appears to be the same identical press that is spoken of throughout) was not a screw-press. What was its construction, or what the use to which it was applied, I cannot conjecture.”—(p. 35.) “We are led to suppose by all the depositions … that there was something about it, which Gutenberg feared might enable some clever person, who should chance to see it, to become possessed of one of his secret arts without the regular initiation; and therefore upon the death of Andrew Dritzehen … he despatches thither his servant Beildeck, with directions to take all necessary precautions respecting it. Why in a matter of such moment, and upon which he was so anxious, Gutenberg did not go himself, it is difficult to conceive; or why Andrew Heilman, one of the partners, did not go and do what was needful, instead of deputing Conrad Sahspach. … However, Lawrence Beildeck was sent instead; … may I suppose that upon this occasion he did as Gutenberg directed him? If so, then I should say that Gutenberg’s mode of proceeding was better calculated to awaken curiosity respecting his secret art, than to prevent any dreaded discovery of it; and that although he might be determined that no one, if he could help it, should have become acquainted with it for nothing, there was mixed up with this feeling a secret wish, that his mysterious acquirements should be talked of; in the hopes of getting a fresh addition of monied partners capable of paying good premiums.”—Very impartial this of Mr. Ottley! “But” he goes on (p. 37) “we will suppose this press to have existed; and briefly remark upon what is said of it. … The term ‘wurbelin’ used in Beildeck’s testimony has already been spoken of. The two ‘wurbelin’ were not screws, but must have been some other kind of fastening, or mode of pressure, with which the press was provided. What the construction of the press was, or how these fastenings or modes of pressure were applied, I pretend not to say: but all the depositions, if we except that of And. Heilman, (which speaks as if it were the press itself which was to be taken to pieces,) describe it as having within it some pieces, which in some way were connected with each other, and which Gutenberg desired should be separated or disjoined, (for there is nothing said of dividing the pieces into pieces) in order that people might not be able to guess the use for which they were intended. Two of the witnesses, namely, Schultheiss and his wife, inform us that these pieces were four in number, and that Nic. Dritzehen was desired to take them out of the press and separate them from each other. … This, according to the natural meaning of the words, is all that can be made of these depositions; and it is probable that no one would ever have attempted to make more of them, had not the name of Gutenberg appeared in connection with them; for there can be no doubt that presses of different kinds were known, long before the invention of typography, and applied to many other purposes, either of stamping or of continued pressure; and the word ‘stücke,’ employed in this process to describe the things contained in the press, is as applicable to pieces of one kind whether of shape or material as of another.”
But this is begging the question completely; for the discussion is not, whether presses of different kinds were already known; but whether the Letter press—the press for taking impressions from types—was previously known or not; and in discussing this question, the meanings of the words “stücke,” “formen,” and “wurbelin,” are most important points.
What then were the ‘stücke,’ the ‘formen,’ the ‘wurbelin’? What do the words mean? The German dictionary gives us the answer—“Pieces, parts, bits, fragments,” &c:—“forms, figures, shapes, frames, patterns, models,” &c:—“turning joints, tourniquots, twirls, convolutions, pulley rolls, pegs (in musical instruments),” &c.[45] And as the German for types is “lettern,” for pages “seiten,” and for screws “schrauben,” instead of looking to the types for the true interpretation of the terms, we look to the press, and especially to that portion of it which Gutenberg was contriving, in order to utilize the mechanical power of the screw for the purposes of book-printing. As yet this contrivance was incomplete, for no books had been printed—no impressions taken from either blocks or types. The invention, in fact, had not been perfected:—there were parts which needed to be changed, altered, corrected. Under such circumstances it is easy to understand that Gutenberg would reserve the secret of his separable types, until the completion of the press should enable him to introduce them as the crowning triumph of his ingenuity.
Within the frame-work of the press then, were fixed—first, the screw; underneath the screw, second, the platten, (the impression block or plate,) to be brought down by the screw upon the types; third, the carriage, on which the types were to be placed; and fourth, the table or slide-rest supporting the carriage, with its rounce, or spindle with crank-handle, drum, and connecting girths to run the carriage in and out before and after impressions were made. These, or their original substitutes, were the ‘pieces, parts, or bits’ that formed the four ‘stücke’ spoken of.
But what were the ‘wurbelin’? They were two stout screw-bolts, working through nuts in a cross-head, and fixing, immoveably, the cross-block in which the centre screw of the press was wormed. They were variously made, but the object was invariably the same; to resist, by a counter pressure, the upward thrust of the screw, when, by the working of the bar or lever, it was brought down upon the platten, and met the resistance of the forme at the moment the impression had to be taken.
Examine now the figure of the press in the accompanying engraving, copied from woodcuts of presses used as printers’ emblems as early as 1498 and 1511; and observe how easily its component pieces could be separated by removing or opening (unscrewing) the two long wurbelin fixed above the working parts, which were probably merely morticed and tenoned together. In the following diagram, outlined from an engraving of the date of 1520, an older fashioned press seems to be shewn, in which the two wurbelin are differently shaped, while their special use is still more plainly to be seen. These unscrewed, the inner portions of the press taken to pieces, and the parts separated or laid aside, no one, unacquainted with the secret, would be able to guess for what object they were designed; or, in the words of the evidence, “know what it is.”