Emily C. Pearson

New Friends.—The Nun.—Gutenberg at Work again.—Printing of the “Balbus de Janua.”—Other Works.—A Curious Record.—Death of the Great Inventor.—Fadeless Laurels.

Was the art for which Gutenberg had toiled all his life, forever to be torn from him, and his rivals alone garner the fruits? In his despondency Anna was hopeful. She would often say to him,—

“There will be a way of deliverance. Thou has wintered with misfortunes ere this, and camest forth unharmed; and now, even if everything is taken, God can change the hearts of those who have wronged thee, and incline others to enlist in thy behalf.”

“Those are noble sentiments,” Gutenberg would reply; “and if all things else are adverse, my Anna is true, and gives me good counsel.”

Genuine faith is never unrewarded; and as if to encourage Anna, about this time Friele Gutenberg, having returned from Venice, where he had spent some years, visited his brother at the Zum Jungen. Gutenberg told him the story of his art, and how, when he had nearly completed the Bible, he was overwhelmed by a lawsuit, being unjustly required to pay money to Faust before he could raise anything from the sales.

Friele was shocked at the recital; and at his request Gutenberg conducted him to the printing rooms, and showed him copies of the Bible.

“Why,” exclaimed Friele, “this is indeed wonderful! It is the most beautiful book I ever beheld. And is the issuing of it entirely taken out of thy hands, my brother?”

“It is even so,” was the reply. “I have been constrained to retire from the firm, and have no means to prosecute the art which has been the study of my life.”

“But yours is a success,” said Friele. “You ought to be encouraged. I will aid you to the extent of my ability, and influence my friends to do something for you. There is also something due you from our father’s estate, which will soon be settled; and this, with other sums, will establish you in business under favorable auspices.”

This was so unexpected that Gutenberg, overcome, could only press his brother’s hand in grateful silence.

Friele’s sympathies were indeed earnestly enlisted in his brother’s cause. The injustice and ingratitude of Faust and Schoeffer stirred his indignation, and he resolved that the true inventor should again engage in his chosen vocation. He soon sought out his sister Hebele, who, although a nun in the St. Claire Convent, was not wholly inaccessible to her brothers. She retained her old affection for her favorite John, and, on hearing Friele’s rehearsal of his successful invention and subsequent losses, voluntarily offered to loan him the sixty florins which was soon to be paid her from the estate of her father.

“My noble Hebele!” exclaimed Friele enthusiastically, “that is so like thyself! How it will encourage John! I will do as much on my part, and I doubt not we shall soon have the gratification of again seeing him prosperously printing.”

Friele was a man of standing and influence in the city, and lost no time in conferring with his friend, Conrad Humery, Syndic of Mentz. This good dignitary became so deeply interested in Friele’s accounts of his brother John’s struggles, triumphs, and wrongs, that he begged at once to be introduced to him. Friele accordingly accompanied him to the Zum Jungen, where they found John Gutenberg in a back room, busy polishing gems, and Anna diligent at her embroidery frame.

The Syndic was past middle age, affable and easy, the goodness of his heart beaming in his expressive eye and fine countenance. Gutenberg felt acquainted with him almost intuitively, and, in answer to his kind inquiries, briefly related the history of his long experiments and checkered experiences.

“That last lawsuit was most scandalous!” said the Syndic; “such a thing ought not to be tolerated in Mentz! Would that I had known of thy trial at the time; I doubt not the case might have been adjudged differently. I will, however, do what I can for thee.”

He was as good as his word. Fully appreciating Gutenberg’s estimable qualities, he even offered to lend him money, again to commence in business, and would, if desired, become a silent partner.

This was most welcome to Gutenberg, and he cordially accepted his generous proposals.

At Friele’s suggestion, he lost no time in removing into the mansion formerly occupied by his father, where his brother now lived. It was a fine old edifice, roomy, baronial, and substantial, dating back hundreds of years. It was in no sense inferior to the Zum Jungen; and the inventor had a comfortable suite of family apartments, as well as convenient printing rooms.

Previous to his removal, as he was making preparations to leave, Dr. Faust called on him, and, extending his hand, said,—

“I owe you many apologies, master, for my unjust treatment in the matter of the lawsuit. It costs me an effort to admit this; but I feel that I have injured you, and must seek to make amends. I have been to Paris, engaged in the sale of Bibles, and have seen your connection with the art of printing as never before. Success has softened and removed my prejudices; and I shall have no peace of mind until you pardon me, and take your place in the firm.”

Gutenberg was both surprised and indignant. He had been foully wronged by Faust and Schoeffer, and it seemed like adding insult to injury for them so late in the day to make amends by bald apologies. He had been too much hurt by their unkindness to think of resuming his former position as partner.

“Moreover,” urged Friele, to whom he confided the matter, “you cannot think of accepting merely nominal concessions. They do not frankly confess how cruelly they have wronged you. And were you to join the firm again without as public a confession as the insult they gave you, you would be wanting in self-respect. And what guarantee can you have that they will not treat you ill a second time? I counsel you to remove to the homestead, where you can have ample facilities for prosecuting your chosen employment.”

We can only conjecture the motives which influenced Faust in his apologies to Gutenberg. Perhaps, now that his pecuniary trial was over, he felt sincerely to regret the separation from the distinguished man who he must fain acknowledge was the originator of the art which had brought fame and money to himself and partner. Or it may be that he dreaded his influence as a rival.

Waiving Faust’s proposal, Gutenberg hastened to establish himself in the mansion of his ancestors.

In resuming printing, he found much delay from the necessity of making everything anew. He had irrecoverably lost the labor of years. He must construct more presses, another set of punches, and new type. The presses were manufactured in as good style as those he had relinquished; but sadly he missed the nice execution of Schoeffer in getting up the punches and type.

He was, it is true, aided by two of his old office workmen,—Martin and Hanau; but his stucke was nevertheless inferior in finish to that which Schoeffer devised. He would not, however, relinquish his enterprise on that account, but proceeded to print the “Balbus de Janua.”

“Why not print more Bibles?” asked Martin Duttlinger in 1457, after they had issued the “Balbus de Janua.”

“My Bibles are being printed by others!” replied the inventor, sadly. “This care is taken from me; but I have the satisfaction of knowing that it will be done as I planned it. I selected the vellum. How many journeys I made to the manufacturer to insure a good article! How I criticised and experimented with it until I succeeded in getting a smooth, fine texture! The ink, too, what a labor it cost me! And the regularity of setting up the page,—it was long before we attained it. The cutting of the type occupied us a long time until we found the method of casting it; and now, with the help of punches, we can make the same elegant type. Why should I seek to issue another edition of the Bible, when my own is publishing? I cannot compete as a salesman with Faust; and the present Bible which is printing is as really my own as another could be.”

“But will you not at least publish a Psalter?”

“Not at present,” replied Gutenberg; “this which Faust and Schoeffer are issuing has been in press four years. When they thrust me from the firm, the type was in readiness, and a portion of it was set up. Two years and a half we had lavished skill and money upon it. This also I must consider mainly my own, as I planned to issue it, and superintended the work. Others reap my harvest; but they cannot destroy the peace and satisfaction I enjoy in the consciousness of having been the instrument of doing good.” Thus did the truly great man put by all selfish considerations.

However, he continued to print various other works, among which were the “Donatus,” the “Catholicon,” “Speculum Sacerdotum,” “Celebratio Missarum,” and others.

There is on record a curious deed, or grant of property, which gives quite an inkling of his affairs in 1459, when his brother Friele was associated with him as a successful publisher.

This legal instrument is as follows:—

“We, Henne (John) Gutenberg and Friele Gutenberg, brothers, do affirm and publicly declare by these presents, and make known to all, that with the advice and consent of our dear cousins, John and Friele and Perdiman Gensfleisch, brothers, of Mentz, we have renounced and do renounce by these presents, for us and for our heirs, simply, totally, and at once, without fraud and deceit, all the property which has passed by means of our sister Hebele to the Convent of St. Claire of Mentz, in which she has become a nun; whether the said property has come to it on the part of our father, Henne Gensfliesch, who gave it himself, or in whatever manner the property may have come to it, whether in grain, ready money, furniture, jewels, or whatever it may be, that the respectable nuns, the abbess and sisters of the said convent, have received in common or individually, or other persons of the convent, from the said Hebele, be it little or much.... And as to the books which I, the said Henne (John), have given to the library of the convent, they are to remain there always and forever; and I, the said Henne, propose also to give in future to the library of the said convent, for the use of the present and future nuns, for their religious worship, either for reading or chanting, or in whatever manner they may wish to make use of them according to the rules of their order, all [that is, copies of all] the books which I, the said Henne, have printed up to this hour, or which I shall hereafter print, in such quantities as they may wish to make use of; and for this the said abbess, the successors, and nuns of the said Convent of St. Claire have declared and promised to acquit me and my heirs of the claim which my sister Hebele had to sixty florins which I and my brother Friele had promised to pay and deliver to the said Hebele as her portion and share arising from the house which Henne (John) our father assigned to him for his share, in virtue of the writings which were drawn up thereupon, without fraud and deceit. And in order that this may be observed by us, and by our heirs, steadfastly and to its full extent, we have given the said nuns and their convent and order these present writings, sealed with our seals. Signed and delivered the year of the birth of J.C. 1459, on the day of St. Margaret.”4

Although it is evident from this deed that Gutenberg was at this time successfully established in printing again by means of a further division of his father’s estate, and by the aid of his friends, yet it also appears that his works were not remunerative. Comparatively few books were called for,—not only the books, but the market for them, had to be made; and this, when we consider the competition of such a firm as Faust and Schoeffer, was no light affair. The worthy Syndic stood nobly by him, and his friends were kind and appreciative, or he had accomplished much less after the breaking up of his favorite projects at the Zum Jungen.

But a sad and deeply afflictive event overtook him, which again threw his affairs into confusion. This was the sudden death of his beloved Anna, who left his side with an angel’s smile and words of triumph for the endless life. The unexpected blow completely unnerved him for a long time; and even when the healing hand of time soothed the wound, he had no heart to go on with an art with which she was so intimately associated.

Friele sympathized most deeply in his sorrow, and at length advised a change of scene and occupation as antidotes to his grief. Accordingly he sold out his printing materials to the Syndic, Conrad Humery, after some eight years’ practicing of his art in the new firm.

But he was not allowed to be forsaken in his old age. From letters patent, dated January 17, 1465, we learn that he was invited to enter the service of the Elector Adolphus of Nassau, as one of his band of gentlemen pensioners, with a handsome salary. Thus did he honorably retire from the practice of his loved art, secure in the thought that although it had cost him much tribulation, yet it was firmly established in doing its beneficent mission to the world.

This was three years after the city of Mentz was sacked and plundered by Count Adolphus; and while others were broken up in their avocations and forced to flee, he was spared from such a fate, and was promoted to his own appropriate honorable place in his native city.

Thus peacefully and in useful duties did he go down the vale of life, until February 24, 1468, when he quitted this earthly scene, let us trust for the happier employments of the better world. His death seems like the calm, unclouded setting of the sun, after a tempestuous day.

Some one has said that genius, in its general sense, is universal; a possession belonging to all men, in some degree. Its greatest achievement is not in a great poem or painting, or any other work of art, but in a great life; and the strong heart and stout hands are its most miraculous organs. He who, by the majestic dignity of his daily walk, gives the beauty of truth to common life, is a great genius,—because he illustrates and sets forth, in its noblest form, virtue and true worth.

So Gutenberg, after he had done the will of God, and had been led on to perfect the most glorious invention under the sun, had need of patience. The Heavenly Father would not permit so chosen a son to become perverted by unmingled prosperity.

Hence he suffered him to be disappointed, and the patient hero was evidently blessed by his trials. He became, if never before, that which so few attain, “commander of himself;” and this, according to a wise author, is no small triumph. “He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city.”

Several trying lawsuits diversified the eventful life of Gutenberg. They were grievous and harrowing to his sensitive feelings, but subserve a good purpose to posterity, giving many well-authenticated facts respecting him, which otherwise would have been lost. Little did he think, while passing through these fiery ordeals, that he was by them really inscribing the deeds of his life on the scroll of fame. We moderns, seizing upon each item in the law records as a choice morsel of literary history, are prone to forget that they were made at the sacrifice of the peace and comfort of the inventor.

Especially was the writ of the notary public, summoning Gutenberg to the parlor of the Barefoot Friars, a crushing event. It came when he was just on the point of realizing his fondest hopes,—when the Bible was printed, and almost ready to be issued from the press. By this process of law, he was under the necessity of mortgaging his printing materials to Faust; this shows that his large private fortune had been previously expended in experiments, and that thus he had fallen into the clutches of his more wealthy partner.

Because the great invention failed to bring in money as soon as the firm had hoped, Faust must needs take the law on Gutenberg, seizing his printing materials, wrought out with so much thought and toil. The presses, the plan of which had been for years ripening in his brain, and to secure the making of which cost him so much money, were no longer his; neither was the type which he invented at such an expense of time, effort, and money, nor yet the illuminated letters designed under his eye. Yes, the very initial letters used by Gutenberg and his firm, in works executed between 1450 and 1455, were also used by Faust and Schoeffer in the Psalter of 1457 and 1459. After so much effort almost in vain, what wonder if Gutenberg had become disheartened, and yielded to despair! Far from that. His indefatigable spirit knew no rest; many floods could not quench the fire of his perseverance; he started again, laid the foundations, and successfully wrought in new printing rooms, his Bible and his Psalter meanwhile being printed by other hands.

But there were certain considerations which alleviated the poignancy of Gutenberg’s disappointment. He had the consolation of knowing that he had designed the enterprise of publishing the Bible, and that he had carried it successfully to its termination. And now, with the magnanimity of a great soul, he was willing that others should circulate it. Besides, he had at times a hope that he should yet have justice done him. It was as true then as now that a man may be disappointed in his greatest hopes in life, without, on that account, becoming unhappy; for, as one has said, “There is no other actual misfortune except this only, not to have God for our friend.”

And this art of printing, which had been such a trial and triumph, such a grief and a joy, was destined to embalm his name and the memory of his life infinitely more than if all the conquests of world-renowned warriors were his.