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