It is a moot point among antiquarians when playing cards were first printed. The commonly received opinion of their invention in 1392 for the amusement of the insane King, Charles VI of France, is decidedly erroneous.[27] On this subject Mr. Planché writes—“There is plenty of evidence to prove that cards, drawn, painted, and gilded by the hand, like those of Jacquemin-Gringonneur, and to which the name of ‘Tarot cards’ has been given, found their way into Europe from the East in the Fourteenth century, or perhaps earlier; but they had nothing in common with those to which we are accustomed, although they might have suggested them, and the fact in no wise affects the question of printing by means of wood-blocks only.”[28]
That this art—the art of printing by pressure to obtain copies, in ink, from separable types or letters—had not been attempted to be carried into effect at a much earlier period than the time when Gutenberg made his first essay at Strasburg, about the year 1435, has been a subject of wonderment with certain writers. But the truth is, that prior to that period the world was not ripe for the invention, neither had the time arrived for the development of those grand designs of Providence, in the effecting of which the Press and Printing were destined to be mainly instrumental. Otherwise, it is inconceivable how for ages previous, while the germ of the art, as ultimately perfected, was in common use among men—in seals and signets;[29] in stamped records on bricks and tablets of clay in Babylon; in chiselled inscriptions on rocks and pillars in India; and in irons with letters cut in relief upon them for branding cattle with their owners’ names, (known among the Romans in the days of Virgil);—no one discovered the way to this method of multiplying documents for general distribution, or for the promulgation of edicts through the length and breadth of the ruling empires of the world.
It may be well, therefore, before entering upon the History of Printing, popularly so called, to take a rapid glance at the state of Europe, both as regards Religion and Literature, in the ages immediately preceding that at which we have now arrived.
From the Sixth to the Fifteenth century the Western world may be said to have been covered with moral darkness. On the fall of the Roman Empire, ignorance, barbarism, and superstition spread in dense and heavy clouds over the nations of the West. Learning so rapidly declined, that it was almost wholly lost; and the light of Religion—that light “which lighteth every man that cometh into the world,”—appeared well nigh entirely quenched. Here and there, however, in different countries and in successive ages, a ray of light shot forth; Schools and Universities were established, and a few bright names shine out like stars amid the thick darkness which surrounded them. The number of these was somewhat increased towards the Tenth century. About this time Paper made from cotton or linen rags began to come into use. The importance of this invention must at once have been felt, and by decreasing the expense of manuscripts—hitherto written on parchments, or the perishable papyrus—have greatly enlarged the demand for such documents. This enlarged demand induced more to follow the occupation of Scribes, or Caligraphers. In the Eleventh century the Benedictine Monks exercised themselves in copying manuscripts; and to their industry we owe almost all we possess of Classic Latin Literature at the present day. The light of learning in this century shone brightest in France and England; in Italy but faintly, while in Germany its glimmerings were scarcely perceptible. In the Twelfth century a slight improvement may be traced; John of Salisbury and William of Malmesbury being distinguished writers in this age. In the Thirteenth however, darkness prevailed again; and few, if any, were capable of appreciating the master-mind of Roger Bacon, who shone like a beacon in the realms of literature and science, but who was looked upon by his mole-eyed contemporaries as a magician whose lore was derived from unholy sources. The Church grew more and more corrupt. Ignorance and fanaticism every where abounded; and true Religion was scarcely to be discerned amid the prevailing superstitions of the age. It was in the moral world as in the physical: the darkest hour is that which precedes the dawn. Darkness at this period covered the earth and gross darkness the people. The mind of man had become, as it were, without form and void; and in that state, humanly speaking, it was long likely to remain. But such was not the will of God. As in the creation of the world, God said, Let there be Light, and Light was; so now the command went forth—“Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.” And the light of truth burst forth; not indeed at first with noontide splendour; but there came from the East a dawn, and a day-spring thence arose, which announced the coming of that light which will only cease to shine when time shall be no more.
The Fourteenth century was to that which followed it like the morning star that ushers in the dawn. The love of learning revived; and polite letters were restored in the person of Petrarch. Universities were established in Rome and Fermo, in Perugia, Treviso and Pisa, in Pavia and Florence, in Sienna, Lucca and Ferrara. In England, Richard Aungerville, Bishop of Durham and Chancellor of Edward III, but better known to fame as Richard of Bury, gave his library to the University of Oxford, with special injunctions that his valuable manuscripts should be lent out to scholars.[30] These, and like agencies elsewhere at work, paved the way for the era then about to commence.
As the dangers which menaced the Eastern Empire at the close of the Fourteenth century increased, the most learned of the Greeks fled to the West, carrying with them the treasures of their language. Amongst the first of these was Emanuel Chrysoloras, who settled in Florence in 1395 as public teacher in Greek. He had been previously known as an Ambassador from Constantinople to the Western powers, his mission being to solicit aid against the Turks. From Florence he proceeded to various Italian Universities, and became the preceptor of several early Hellenists. In 1423, 238 manuscripts of Greek authors were brought into Italy by John Aurispa of Sicily, who thus put his country in possession of authors hardly known to her by name. By means of these, and the labours of Philelfo and other collectors, an ardent thirst for Classical and especially Grecian Literature began to make itself manifest, which about the year 1440 was completely developed.
The kings of France and the Dukes of Burgundy were at this period the most munificent patrons of learning and literature. The fashion they set was followed by their chief nobles, and many celebrated libraries were formed in their dominions. The Library of the Louvre was founded by King John of France in 1350. His third son, Jean, Duc de Berri, formed one at his Chateau de Bicêtre, near Paris, only inferior to that of his father. Philippe le Hardi, the youngest son, who became Duke of Burgundy, was also addicted to the collection of fine books, “and spared no expense in the employment of artists to adorn his library, and in the purchase of their most choice productions.” His son, Jean sans Peur, inherited his father’s tastes and added to the collections already made. “But all previous patronage sinks into comparative insignificance before the encouragement given to everything connected with literature by Philippe le Bon, who succeeded Jean in 1419. At Bruges where he kept his Court, he gave continual employment to multitudes of authors, translators, copyists, and painters, who were constantly enriching his library with their best productions.” In an account of the Duke’s library, nearly two thousand works are enumerated, “the greater part being magnificent vellum folios beautifully illuminated, bound in velvet, satin, or damask, studded with gems, and protected by gold clasps jewelled and chased.” “The passion for books thus displayed was not confined to France or the French princes. In Italy, Germany, England, and other countries, the same taste spread. In England Henry VI had a valuable library; many books written and illuminated for him being still among the royal MSS. in the British Museum. The Duke of Bedford, whose love of literature was probably greatly stimulated while Regent of France, was surpassed by none of his countrymen in his patronage of the Fine Arts; and the celebrated Missal executed for him still remains