PRINTERS’ MARKS.
INTRODUCTION.
| printer's mark |
| G. U. VON ANDLAU. |
Shorn of all the romance and glamour which seem inevitably to surround every early phase of typographic art, a Printer’s Device may be described as nothing more or less than a trade mark. It is usually a sufficient proof that the book in which it occurs is the work of a particular craftsman. Its origin is essentially unromantic, and its employment, in the earlier stages of its history at all events, was merely an attempt to prevent the inevitable pirate from reaping where he had not sown. At one time a copy, or more correctly a forgery, of a Printer’s Mark could be detected with comparative ease, even if the body of the book had all the appearance of genuineness.
This self-protection was necessary on many grounds. First of all, the privileges of impression which were granted by kings, princes, and supreme pontiffs, were usually obtained only by circuitous routes and after the expenditure of much time and money. Moreover, the counterfeit book was rarely either typographically or textually correct, and was more often than not abridged and mutilated almost beyond recognition, to the serious detriment of the printer whose name appeared on the title-page. Places as well as individualities suffered, for very many books were sold as printed in Venice, without having the least claim to that distinction. The Lyons printers were most unblushing sinners in this respect, and Renouard cites a Memorial drawn up by Aldus himself on the subject, and published at Venice in 1503.
But apart from the foregoing reasons, it must be remembered that many of the earliest monuments of typographic art appeared not only without the name of the printer but also without that of the locality in which they were printed. Although in such cases various extraneous circumstances have enabled bibliographers to “place” these books, the Mark of the printer has almost invariably been the chief aid in this direction. The Psalter of 1457 is the first book which has the name of the place where it was printed, besides that of the printers as well as the date of the year in which it was executed. But for a long time after that date books appeared without one or the other of these attributes, and sometimes without either, so that the importance of the Printer’s Mark holds good.
A very natural question now suggests itself, “Who invented these Marks?” Laire, “Index Librorum” (Sæc. xv.), ii. 146, in speaking of a Greek Psalter says: “Habet signaturas, registrum ac custodes, sed non numerantur folia. Litteræ principales ligno incisæ sunt, sicut et in principio cujuslibet psalmi viticulæ quæ gallicé vignettes appellantur, quarum usum primus excogitavit Aldus.” The volume here described was printed about 1495, and the invention therefore has been very generally attributed to Aldus. That this is not so will be shown in the next chapter. We shall confine ourselves for the present to some of the various points which appear to be material to a proper understanding of the subject.
One of the most important and interesting phases in connection with Printers’ Marks is undoubtedly the motif of the pictorial embellishment. Both the precise origin and the object of many Marks are now lost to us, and many others are only explained after a thorough study of the life of the particular printer or the nature of the books which he generally printed or published. The majority, however, carry their own prima facie explanations. The number of “punning” devices is very large, and nearly every one has a character peculiarly its own. Their antiquity is proved by the fact that before the beginning of the fifteenth century, a picture of St. Anthony was boldly, not to say irreverently, used by Antoine Caillaut, Paris. A long series of punning devices occur in the books printed by or for the fifteenth century publishers, one of the most striking and successful is that of Michel le Noir, whose shield carries his initials, surmounted by the head of a negress and sometimes supported by canting figures in full. This Mark, with variations, was also employed by Philippe and Guillaume le Noir, the work of the three men covering a period of nearly 100 years. The device of Gilles or Gillet Couteau, Paris, 1492, is apparently a double pun, first on his Christian name, the transition from which to œillet being easy and explaining the presence of a pink in flower, and secondly on his surname by the three open knives, in one of which the end of the blade is broken. It was almost inevitable that both Denis Roce or Ross, a Paris bookseller, 1490, and Germain Rose, of Lyons, 1538, should employ a rose in their marks, and this they did, one of the latter’s examples having a dolphin twining around the stem. Jacques and Estienne Maillet, whose works at Lyons extended from the last eleven years of the fifteenth century to the middle of the sixteenth, give in the centre of their shield a picture of a mallet.
| Du grant aux petis / Gillet couteau | VOGVE LA GVALLEE / GALLIOT DV PRE |
| GILLET COUTEAU. | GALLIOT DU PRÉ. |
One of the boldest of the early sixteenth century examples is that employed by Galliot Du Pré, Paris, and in this we have a picture of a galley propelled with the aid of sails and oars, and with the motto “Vogue la gualee.” This device (with several variations) was used by both father and son, and possesses an interest beyond the subject of Printers’ Marks, for it gives us a very clear idea of the different boats employed during the first three quarters of the sixteenth century. Another striking Mark of about the same time and covering as nearly as possible the same period, was that of the family De La Porte. The earlier example used in Paris about 1508 was a simple doorway; but the elder Hugues de la Porte, Lyons, and the successors of Aymon De La Porte of the same place, used several exceedingly bold designs in which Samson is represented carrying away the gates of Gaza, the motto on one door or gate being “libertatem meam,” and on the other “mecum porto.” The two printers of the same name, Jehan Lecoq, who were practising the art continuously during nearly the whole of the sixteenth century at Troyes, employed a Mark on the shield of which appears the figure of a cock; whilst an equally appropriate if much more ugly design, was employed by the eminent Lyons family of Sébastien Gryphe or Gryphius: he had at least eight “griffin” Marks, which differed slightly from one another. François Gryphe, who worked in Paris, had one Mark which was original to the extent of the griffin being supported by a tortoise. J. Du Moulin, Rouen, employed a little picture of a windmill on his Mark, as did Scotland’s first printer, Andro Myllar; but Jehan Petit, a prolific fifteenth century printer of Paris, confined his punning to the words “Petit à Petit,” as is seen in the reduced facsimile title, given on p. 9, of a book printed by him for T. Kerver. Mathias Apiarius, Strassburg, used at least two Marks expressing the same idea, namely, a bear discovering a bee’s nest in the hollow of a tree—an obvious pun on his surname. The latter part of the sixteenth century is not nearly so fruitful in really good or striking devices. Guillaume Bichon, Paris, employed a realistic picture of a lap-dog (in allusion to his surname) chasing a hare, with the motto “Nunc fugiens, olim pugnabo”; and equally realistic in another way is the Mark of P. Chandelier, Caen, in which effective use is made of a candle-stick with seven holders, the motto being “Lucernis fideliter ministro.” Antoine Tardif, Lyons, employed the Aldine anchor and dolphin, and also a motto, “Festina tarde,” which is identical in meaning, if not in the exact words, of that of Aldus. Guillaume De La Rivière, Arras, used a charmingly vivid little scene of a winding river, with the motto “Madenta flumine valles”; and it is not difficult to distinguish the appropriateness of the sprig of barley in the Mark of Hugues Barbon, Limoges. The Mark of Jacques Du Puys, Paris, was possibly suggested by the word puits (or well), and of which Puys is perhaps only a form: the picture at all events is a representation of Christ at the well. In the case of Adam Du Mont, Orange, the christian name, is “taken off” in a picture of Adam and Eve at the tree of forbidden fruit; and exactly the same idea occurs with equal appropriateness in the Mark of N. Eve, Paris, the sign of whose shop was Adam and Eve. Michel Jove naturally went to profane history for the subject of his Mark, and with a considerable amount of success.
| Jehan Lecoq |
| JEHAN LECOQ. |
Among the numerous other examples with mottoes derived from sacred history, special mention, as showing the connection between the sign of the shop and its incorporation in the Mark, may be made to the following printers of Paris: D. De La Noue, who not only had “Jesus” as the sign of his shop, but also as his Mark; J. Gueffier had the “Amateur Divin” as his sign, and an allegorical interpretation of the device, “Fert tacitus, vivit, vincit divinus amator,” as a Mark; Guillaume Julian, or Julien, had “Amitie” as his sign, and a personification of this (Typus Amicitiæ) as his Mark, with the motto “Nil Deus hac nobis majus concessit in usus”; Abel L’Angelier (and his widow after his death) adopted the sacrifice of Abel as the subject of his Sign and Mark, with the motto “Sacrum pinque dabo nec macrum sacrificabo”; and the motto of both the first and the second Michel Sonnius was “Si Deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?”
PETIT AND KERVER.
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A few punning devices occur among the early English printers, but they are not always clever or pictorially successful. The earliest example is that of Richard Grafton, whose pretty device represents a tun with a grafted tree growing through it, the motto, “Suscipite insertum verbum,” being taken from the Epistle to St. James (i., verse 21). John Day’s device, with the motto “Arise! for it is day,” is generally supposed to be an allusion to the Reformation as well as a pun on his name; tradition has it, however, that Day was accustomed to awake his apprentices, when they had prolonged their slumbers beyond the usual hour, by the wholesome application of a scourge and the summons “Arise! for it is day.” We may also mention the devices of Hugh Singleton, a single tun; and of W. Middleton, a tun with the letter W at bottom and M in the centre of the tun; of T. Pavier, in which, appropriately enough, we have a pavior paving the streets of a town, and surrounded by the motto “Thou shalt labour till thou return to dust.” Thomas Woodcock employed a device of a cock on a stake, piled as for a Roman funeral, with the motto “Cantabo Iehovæ quia benefecit”; Andrew Lawrence, a St. Andrew cross.
JACQUES DU PUYS.
Although not in any sense of a “punning” nature, the employment of a printing press as a Mark may conveniently be here referred to. It was first used in this manner, and in more than one form, by Josse Bade, or Badius, an eminent printer of the first thirty-five years of the sixteenth century, and to whom full reference will be found in the chapter on French Marks. A Flemish printer, Pierre César, Ghent, 1516, was apparently the next to employ this device; then came Jehan Baudouyn, Rennes, 1524; Eloy Gibier, Orleans, 1556; Jean Le Preux, Paris and Switzerland, 1561; Enguilbert (II.) De Marnef and the Bouchets brothers, Poitiers, 1567; and, later than all, L. Cloquemin, Lyons, 1579.
| THOU SHALT LABOUR TILL THOU RETURN TO DUST |
| T. PAVIER. |
Next to the section of “punning” devices, perhaps the most entertaining is that which deals with the question of mottoes. These are derived from an infinite variety of sources, not infrequently from the fertile brains of the printers themselves. Their application is not always clear, but they are nearly always indicative of the virility which characterized the old printers. It is neither desirable nor possible to exhaust this somewhat intricate phase of the subject, but it will be necessary to quote a few representative examples. Occasionally we get a snatch of verse, as in the case of Michel Le Noir, whose motto runs thus:
“C’est mon désir
De Dieu servir
Pour acquérir
Son doux plaisir.”
Also in the instance of another early printer, Gilles De Gourmont, who chants—
“Tost ou tard
Pres ou loing
A le Fort
Du feble besoing.”
Perhaps the greatest number of all are those in which the printer proclaims his faith to God and his loyalty to his king. One of the early Paris printers enjoins us—in verse—not only to honour the king and the court, but claims our salutations for the University; and almost precisely the same sentiment finds expression in the Mark of J. Alexandre, another early printer of Paris. Robinet or Robert Macé, Rouen, proclaims “Ung dieu, ung roy, ung foy, ung loy,” and the same idea expressed in identical words is not uncommonly met with in Printers’ Marks. Of a more definitely religious nature are those, for example, of P. de Sartières, Bourges, “Tout se passe fors dieu”; of J. Lambert, “A espoir en dieu”; of Prigent Calvarin, “Deum time, pauperes sustine, finem respice”; and several from the Psalms, such as that of C. Nourry, called Le Prince, “Cor contritum et humiliatum deus non despicies”; of P. De Saincte-Lucie, also called Le Prince, “Oculi mei semper ad dominum”; and of J. Temporal (all three Lyons printers), “Tangit montes et fumigant,” in which the design is quite in keeping with the motto; in one case at least, S. Nivelle, one of the commandments is made use of, “Honora patrem tuum, et matrem tuam, ut sis longævus super terram.” Here, too, we may include the mottoes of B. Rigaud, “A foy entiere cœur volant”; S. De Colines, “Eripiam et glorificabo eum”; and of Benoist Bounyn, Lyons, “Labores manum tuarum quia manducabis beatus es et bene tibi erit.” Whilst as a few illustrations of a general character we may quote Geoffrey Tory’s exceedingly brief “Non plus,” which was contemporaneously used also by Olivier Mallard; J. Longis, “Nihil in charitate violentia”; Denys Janot, “Tout par amour, amour par tout, par tout amour, en tout bien”; the French rendering of a very old proverb in the mottoes of B. Aubri and D. Roce, “A l’aventure tout vient a point qui peut attendre”; J. Bignon, “Repos sans fin, sans fin repos”; the motto used conjointly by M. Fézandat and R. Granjon, “Ne la mort, ne le venin”; and the motto of Etienne Dolet, “Scabra et impolita ad amussim dolo, atque perfolio.” Among the mottoes of early English printers, the most notable, partly for its dual source, and as one of our earliest examples, is that of William Faques; one sentence, “Melius est modicum justo super divitias peccatorum multas,” is taken from Psalm xxxvii. verse 16; and the second, “Melior est patiens viro forti, et qui dominat,” comes from Proverbs xvi., verse 32. The motto of Richard Grafton has already been quoted; that of John Reynes was “Redemptoris mundi arma”; and John Wolfe, “Vbique floret.”
PARTOVT AMOVR / AMOR DEI OMNIA VINCIT / AMOVR PARTOVT / TOVT PAR AMOVR. / DENIS IANOT. / EN TOVT BIEN.
DENYS JANOT.
| Melius est modicum iusto super divitias p[ecca]torum multas. / MELIOR EST PATIENS VIRO FORTI ET QVI DOMINAT / Guillam. |
| WILLIAM FAQUES. |
The employment of mottoes in Greek and Hebrew characters is a not unimportant feature in the earlier examples of Printers’ Marks, but it must suffice us here to indicate a few of the leading printers who used either one or the other, and sometimes both. B. Rembolt was one of the earliest to incorporate a Greek phrase; De Salenson, Ghent, had a Greco-Latin motto on an open bible, which is the pièce de resistance of a pretty Mark, a similar idea occurring in the totally different Marks of the brothers Treschel, Lyons; another Lyons firm of printers, the brothers Huguetan, employed a Greek motto, and a phrase, also in Greek characters, occurs in one of the Marks of Peter Vidoue. The more notable Marks which contain Hebrew characters, which generally signify Jehovah, are those of Joannes Knoblouchus, or Knoblouch, Strassburg, in which we have not only Hebrew, but upper and lower case Greek, and a Latin quotation—“Verum, quum latebris delituit diu, emergit”; and of Wolfius Cæphalæus, also of Strassburg; and here again we have the Mark environed by quotations in Greek, Latin, and Hebrew. In a few instances we have the unlucky letter of the Greek alphabet—theta—forming a Mark with considerable originality, as in that of Guillaume Morel, where this symbol of death is surrounded by two dragon serpents representing immortality. The theta was also employed by Etienne Prevosteau.
The subject of the sphere in Printers’ Marks might profitably occupy a good deal of space in discussing. It is generally considered to be not only the peculiar property of the Elzevirs, but that books possessing it without having one or other of the real or assumed imprints of this celebrated family of printers are impudent frauds. But as a matter of fact, it was used by at least half-a-dozen printers many years before the Elzevirs started printing. For example, it was employed during the last decade of the fifteenth century by Gilles Hardouyn, and early in the sixteenth by Huguetan brothers at Lyons, by P. Sergent and L. Grandin at Paris, by J. Steels, or Steelsius of Antwerp, and P. Lichtenstein of Venice. In these instances, however, it is endowed, so to speak, with accessories. In the earliest Mark it plays only an incidental part, but in the Huguetan example it forms the device itself: it is held by a hand and is encircled by a ring on which the owner of the hand is evidently trying to balance a ball; there is a Greek motto. In a later and slightly different design of the same family, the motto is altered in position, and is in Latin: “Vniversitas rerum, vt Pvlis, in manv Iehovae.” Each of the two Paris examples is remarkable in its peculiar way. In Grandin’s two Marks the same allegorical idea prevails, viz., one person seizing a complete sphere from an angel out of the clouds, apparently to exchange it for the broken one held by a second person: in the cruder of the two examples of these there is a quotation from the 117th Psalm. In Sergent’s bold and vigorous Mark, the sphere, which incloses a figure of the crucified Christ, is fixed into the top of a dead trunk of a tree. It may also be mentioned that this device was frequently used by printers during the middle and latter part of the seventeenth century in this country—it appears, for example, on several books printed by R. Bentley, London, during that period. The sphere as an Elzevir Mark will be referred to in the chapter dealing with Dutch examples.
IO. STEELSIVS / Concordia res paruę crescunt.
J. STEELS.
An element which may be generically termed religious plays no unimportant part in this subject. It will not be necessary to enter deeply into the motives which induced so many of the old printers and booksellers to select either their devices or the illustrations of their Marks from biblical sources; and it must suffice to say that, if the object is frequently hidden to us to-day, the fact of the extent of their employment cannot be controverted. The incident of the Brazen Serpent (Numbers xxi.) was a very popular subject. One of the earliest to use it was Conrad Neobar, Paris, 1538; it was adopted by Reginald Wolfe, who commenced printing in this country about 1543, and its possession was considered of sufficient importance to merit special mention among the goods bequeathed by his widow to her son Robert. It was also the Mark of Wolfe’s contemporaries, Martin Le Jeune, Paris, Jean Bien-Né, of the same city, and of Jean Crespin, Geneva, the last-named using it in several sizes, in which the foot of the cross is “continued” into an anchor. Apart from crosses in an infinite variety of forms, and to which reference will presently be made, by far the most popular form of religious devices consisted of what may, for convenience sake, be termed angelic. Pictorially they are nearly always failures, and often ludicrously so. The same indeed might be said of the work of most artists who have essayed the impossible in this direction. An extraordinary solemnity of countenance, a painful sameness and extreme ugliness, are the three dominant features of the angels of the Printers’ Mark. The subject offers but little scope for an artist’s ingenuity it is true, and it is only in a very few exceptions that a tolerable example presents itself. Their most frequent occurrence is in supporting a shield with the national emblem of France, and in at least one instance—that of André Bocard, Paris,—with the emblems of the city and the University of Paris. This idea, without the two latter emblems, occurs in the devices of Jehan Trepperel, Anthoine Denidel, and J. Bouyer and G. Bouchet (who adopted it conjointly), who were printing or selling books in Paris during the last decade of the fifteenth century; whilst in the provinces in that period it was employed by Jacques Le Forestier, at Rouen; and by Jehan De Gourmont, Paris, J. Besson, Lyons, and J. Bouchet at Poitiers, early in the following century. The angels nearly always occur in couples, as in the case of Antoine Vérard, one of the earliest printers to adopt this form; but a few exceptions may be mentioned where only one appears, namely, in the Mark of Estienne Baland, Lyons (1515), in which an angel is represented as confounding Balaam’s ass; and in that of Vincent Portunaris, of the same place and of about the same time, in which an angel figures holding an open book; in the four employed by G. Silvius, an Antwerp printer (1562), in three of which the figure is also holding a book; in the elaborate Mark of Philip Du Pré, Paris, 1595, and in the exceeding rough Mark of Jannot de Campis, of Lyons, 1505. Curiously enough, the subject of Christ on the cross was very rarely employed, an exception occurring in the case of Schäffeler, of Constance, or Bodensee, Bavaria, 1505. The same centre-piece, without the cross, was employed by Jehan Frellon, Paris, 1508, and evidently copied by Jehan Burges, the younger, at Rouen, 1521, whilst that of Guillaume Du Puy, Paris, 1504, has already been referred to. The Virgin Mary occurs occasionally, the more notable examples being the Marks of Guillaume Anabat, Paris, 1505–10, really a careful piece of work; and the elder G. Ryverd, Paris, 1516, and in each case with the infant Jesus. St. Christopher is a subject one sometimes meets with in Printers’ Marks: in that of Gervais Chevallon, Paris, 1538, it however plays a comparatively subordinate part, and its merits were only fully recognized by the Grosii, of Leipzig, who nearly always used it for about two centuries, 1525–1732; the example bearing the last date is by far one of the most absurd of its kind—the cowled monk with a modern lantern lighting St. Christopher on his way through the river is a choice piece of incongruity. Another phase of the religious element capable of considerable expansion is that in relation to the part played in Marks by saints and priests generally. Sometimes these are found together with an effect not at all happy, notably the two Marks of Jehan Olivier, Paris, 1518, which, with Jesus Christ on one side, a Pope on the other, and an olive tree, are sufficiently crude to present an appearance which seems to-day almost blasphemous. The last of the several religious phases of Printers’ Marks to which we shall allude is at the same time the most elaborate and complicated. We refer to that of the Cross. The subject is sufficiently wide to occupy of itself a small volume, but even after the most careful investigation, there are many points which will for ever remain in the region of doubt and obscurity. Tradition is proverbially difficult to eradicate; and all the glamour which surrounds the history of the Cross, and which found expression in, among other popular books, the “Legenda Aurea,” maintained all its pristine force and attractiveness down to the end of the sixteenth century. The invention of printing and the gradual enlightenment of mankind did much in reducing these legends into their proper place; but the process was gradual, and whatever may have been their private opinions, the old printers found it discreet to fall into line with the established order of things. Indeed, the religious sentiment was perhaps never so alive as at the time of the invention of printing, in proof of which some of the earliest and most magnificent typographical monuments may be cited,—the Gutenberg Bible, the Psalter of Fust and Schoeffer, for example. The accompanying plate will give the reader a faint idea of the extraordinary variety of crosses to be found on Printers’ Marks used chiefly by the Italian printers.
ANTOINE VÉRARD.
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M. Paul Delalain has touched upon this exceedingly abstract phase of Printers’ Marks in the third fascicule of his “Inventaire des Marques d’Imprimeurs,” without, as he himself admits, arriving at any very definite conclusion. The cross, whether in its simplest form or with a complication of additional ornaments, has, as he points out, been at all times popular in connection with this subject. It appeared on the shield of Arnold Ther Hoernen, Cologne, 1477, at Stockholm in 1483, at Cracovia in 1510. That it did not fall entirely into desuetude until the end of the eighteenth century is a very striking proof of what M. Delalain calls “la persistance de la croix.” It has appeared in all forms and in almost every conceivable shape. Its presence may be taken as indicating a deference and a submission to, as well as a respect for, the Christian religion, and M. Delalain is of the opinion that the sign “eu pour origine l’affiliation à une confrérie religieuse.” Finally, in his introduction to Roth-Scholtz’s “Thesaurus Symbolarum ac Emblematum,” Spoerl asks, “Why are the initials of a printer or bookseller so often placed in a circle or in a heart-shaped border, and then surmounted by a cross? Why at the extreme top of the cross is the lateral line formed into a sort of triangular four? Why, without this inexplicable sign, has the cross a number of cyphers, two, or even three, cross-bars? Why should the tail of the cypher 4 itself be traversed by one or sometimes two perpendicular bars which themselves would appear to form another cross of another kind? Why, among the ornamental accessories, do certain species of stars form several crosses, entangled or isolated? Why, at the base of the cross is the V duplicated?” All these are problems which it would be exceedingly difficult to solve with satisfaction. We do not propose offering any kind of explanation for these singular marks; but it will not be without interest to point out that among the more interesting examples are those used by Berthold Rembolt, André Bocard or Boucard, Georges Mittelhus, Jehan Alexandre, Jehan Lambert, Nicole De La Barre, and the brothers De Marnef, all printers or booksellers of Paris; of Guillaume Le Talleur, Richard Auzolt, of Rouen; of Jaques Huguetan, Mathieu Husz, François Fradin, Jacques Sacon or Sachon, and Jehan Du Pré, all of Lyons; of Jehan Grüninger, of Strassburg; of Lawrence Andrewe, and Andrew Hester, of London; the unknown printer of St. Albans; of Leeu, of Antwerp; of Jacob Abiegnus, of Leipzig; of Pedro Miguel, Barcelona; of Juan de Rosembach of Barcelona and other places; of the four “alemanes” of Seville, and hundreds of others that might be mentioned.
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1. Benedetto d’Effore. 2. Bonino de Boninis. 3. Bernardino de Misintis. 4. Bernardino Ricci. 5. Bernardino Stagnino. 6. Baptista de Tortis. 7. Bernardinus de Vitalibus. 8. Bartholomeus de Zanis.
11. Dominicus Roccociola or Richizolo. 12. William Schomberg. 13. Christopher de Canibus. 14. Hercules Nani. 15. Giovanni Antonio de Benedetti. |
16. Samuel de Tournes (Geneva). 17. The Somaschi. 18. Justinian de Ruberia. 19. J. Treschel (Lyons). 20. L. de Gerla, Gerlis or Gerula. 21. Laurentius Rubeus de Valentia. 22. Lazaro Suardo or da Suardis. 23. Matthew de Codeca or Capsaca. 24. Nicholas de Francfordia. 25. Dionysio Berrichelli. 26. Octavianus Scottus. 27. Peregrino de Pasqualibus. 28. Philip Pinzi or Pincius. 29. Caligula de Bacileriis. 30. J. Sacer. |
It is curious to note that, in spite of its great mediæval popularity, the subject of St. George and the Dragon rarely enters into the subject of Printers’ Marks, and of the few examples which call for reference, those of Thomas Périer and Guillaume Bourgeat, of Paris and Tours respectively, are among the best both in design and execution. The idea was also adopted by Guillaume Auvray, of Paris; and by M. de Hamont, Brussels.
The personification of Time and Peace were both popular; and each has its successful examples. One of the earliest instances of the former is a pretty little mark, executed with a considerable amount of vigour, of Robert De Gourmont, Paris; a large and vigorous Mark—one of several—employed by Simon De Colines, Paris, in which it is interesting to note that the scythe is not invariably denticulated; two very crude but very distinct examples employed by Michel Hillenius or Hooghstrate, Antwerp, 1514; and two, one large and the other small, of Guillaume Chaudière, Paris, 1564; whilst Jean Temporal, of Lyons, 1550, used it as an evident play on his name. The emblem of Peace does not appear to have been much employed until well on into the sixteenth century; N. Boucher, 1544, used as his motto, “pacem victis;” Guillaume Julien, to whom reference has already been made; as likewise Michel Clopejau, of a few years later, who used the words “Typus amicitiæ” on his mark, with the further legend of “Quam sperata victoria pax certa melior;” these three lived in Paris, whilst by far the best decorative Mark in this connection was that adopted by Julien Angelier, a bookseller and printer of Blois, 1555, the centre of whose device, besides the words “Signum pacis,” includes a dove bearing two olive branches. The fraternal device of two hands clasped may also be here alluded to: it is of special interest from the fact that it was employed by one of the earliest to practice printing in Paris—Guy or Guyot Marchant, 1483, one of whose Marks gives us a view of two shoemakers working with musical notes representing So La (Sola), and “fides ficit” in gothic type. Thomas Richard, sixty years afterwards, elaborated on a portion of this idea, and his Mark shows two hands holding a crowned sceptre with two serpents entwined around it. Designs much superior to these were employed by Bertramus of Strassburg, at the latter part of the sixteenth century. Following the example of Marchant, musical notes have occasionally been employed by later printers. The rebus of this printer evidently suggested that of Jehan and Anthoine Lagache, father and son, Arras, in 1517, the first syllable of whose name, La, is indicated by a musical note, and is immediately followed by “gache.” Pierre Jacobi, Saint-Nicholas-de-la-Port, and Toulouse, 1503, adopted Marchant’s idea by giving “Sola fides ficit” with a musical start, so to speak; and a distinctly novel phase of the subject is employed by Jacobus Jucundus, Strassburg, 1531, in which a goose is represented as playing on a violin.
HANC ACIEM SOLA RETVNDIT VIRTVS TEMPVS.
GUILLAUME CHAUDIÈRE.
Printers’ marks in which the pictorial embellishments partake of a rustic nature, such as bits of landscape, seed-sowing, harvesting, and horns of plenty, are numerous, and in many cases exceedingly pretty. J. Roffet, Paris, 1549, employed the design of the seed-sower in several of his Marks; and of about a dozen different Marks used at one time or another by Jean De Tournes the first, Lyons, 1542, one of the most successful is a clever one having for its central figure a sower; the same idea, in a very crude form, was contemporaneously employed also by De Laet, Antwerp. The Cornucopia, or horn of plenty, was a very favourite emblem, and it appears in a manifold variety of designs, sometimes with a Caduceus (the symbol of Mercury) which is held by two clasped hands, as in the case of T. Orwin, London, 1596, in a cartouche with the motto: “By wisdom peace, by peace plenty;” four of the eight marks used by Chrestien Wéchel, Paris, 1522, differ from Orwin’s in being surmounted by a winged Pegasus; and André Wéchel, of the same city, 1535, employed one of the smaller devices of Chrestien, with variations and enlargements of the same; in the Mark of J. Chouet, Geneva, 1579, the caduceus is replaced by a serpent, the body of which is formed into a figure 8; in that of Gislain Manilius, Ghent, the horns appear above two seated figures. In each of the foregoing examples two horns appear. Georg Ulricher von Andlau, Strassburg, 1529, used the cornucopia, and in one of his Marks the figure is surrounded by an elaborate array of fruit and vegetables; single horns appear also in the clever and elaborate marks of R. Fouet, Paris, 1597, whose design was a very slight deviation from that of J. De Bordeaux, Paris, 1567. The oak-tree, sheltering a reaper and with the motto “Satis Quercus,” was employed by George Cleray, Vannes, 1545; and the fruit of this tree—the acorn—by E. Schultis, Lyons, 1491. The thistle appears on the marks of Estienne Groulleau, Paris, 1547; the Rose on the more or less elaborate designs of Gilles Corrozet, Paris, 1538; a rose-tree in full flower occupies the centre of the beautiful mark of the first Mathieu Guillemot, Paris, 1585; a solitary Rose-flower was the simple and effective mark of Jean Dallier, Paris, 1545; and a flowering branch of the same tree is one of the items on the charming little Mark on the opposite page of Mathurin Breuille, Paris.
JACQUES ROFFET.
JEAN DE TOURNES.
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| MATHURIN BREUILLE. |
In the category of what may be termed extinct animals, the Unicorn as a subject for illustrating Printers’ Marks enjoyed a long and extensive popularity. The most remarkable thing in connection with these designs of the Unicorn is perhaps their striking dissimilarity, and as nearly every one of the many artists who employed, for no obvious reasons, this animal in their Printer’s Marks had his own idea of what a Unicorn ought to have been like, the result, viewed as a whole, is not by any means a happy one. Still, several of the examples possess a considerable amount of vigour and have a distinct decorative effectiveness. But apart from this its appearance in the Marks of the old printers is a very striking proof of the fact that the mediæval legends died hard. Curiously enough, the proverbial “lion and unicorn” do not often occur together. The family of printers with whose name the unicorn is almost as closely associated as the compass is with Plantin, is that of Kerver, for it has been employed in over a dozen different forms by one or other members from the end of the fifteenth century to the latter part of the sixteenth. Sometimes there is only one Unicorn on the mark, at others there is a pair. Le Petit Laurens, Paris, was using it contemporaneously with the first Thielman Kerver, and possibly the one copied the other. Sénant, Vivian, Kées, and Pierre Gadoul, Chapelet, and Chavercher, were other Paris printers who used the same idea in their marks before the middle of the sixteenth century. It was long a favourite subject with the Rouen printers, one of the earliest in that city to use it being J. Richard, whose design is particularly original, inasmuch as the shield is supported on one side by a Unicorn, and on the other by a female, possibly intended to represent a saint, an idea which was apparently copied by Symon Vincent, Lyons; the Unicorn was also used in the marks of L. Martin and G. Boulle, both of Lyons; and also in the very rough but original design employed by H. Hesker, Antwerp, 1496; whilst for its quaint originality a special reference may be made to the Mark of François Huby, Paris, of the latter part of the sixteenth century, for in this a Unicorn is represented as chasing an old man. The origin of the Unicorn Mark is essentially Dutch. The editions of the Printer, “à la licorne,” Deft, 1488–94, are well known to students of early printing. The earliest book in which this mark is found is the “Dȳalogus der Creaturen” (“Dialogus Creaturarum”) issued at that city in November, 1488. Henri Eckert de Hombergh and Chr. Snellaert, both of Delf, used a Unicorn in their Marks during the latter years of the fifteenth century.
C. SNELLAERT.
Among other possible and impossible monsters and subjects of profane history, the Griffin, the Mermaid, the Phœnix, Arion and Hermes has each had its Mark or Marks. In the case of the first named, which, according to Sir Thomas Browne, in his “Vulgar Errors,” is emblematical of watchfulness, courage, perseverance, and rapidity of execution, it is not surprising that the Gryphius family, from the evident pun on their surname, should have considered it as in their particular preserves. As may be imagined, it does not make a pretty device, although under the circumstances its employment is perhaps permissible. Sebastien Gryphius, Lyons, and his brother François, Paris, who were of German parentage, employed the Griffin in about a dozen variations during the first half of the sixteenth century. The Griffin, however, was utilized by Poncet Le Preux, Paris, some years before the Gryphius family came into notoriety, and it was employed contemporaneously with this by B. Aubri, Paris. The Mermaid makes a prettier picture than the Griffin, but its appearance on Printers’ Marks is an equally fantastic vagary of the imagination. In one of the earliest Marks on which it occurs, that of C. Fradin, Lyons, 1505, the shield is supported on one side by a Mermaid, and on the other by a fully-armed knight; half a century after, B. Macé, Caen, had a very clever little Mark in which the Mermaid is not only in her proper element, but holding an anchor in one hand, and combing her hair with the other. During the second quarter of the sixteenth century, the idea was, with variations, used by G. Le Bret, Paris, and J. De Junte, Lyons, as well as by John Rastell, London, 1528, whose shop was at the sign of the Mermaid.
| Fuit Iohannes Rastell |
| JOHN RASTELL. |
To summarize a few of the less popular designs, it will suffice to give a short list of the vignettes or marks used by the old printers of Paris (except where otherwise stated), alphabetically arranged according to subjects: Abraham, Pacard; an anchor, Christopher Rapheleng, Leyden, Chouet and Pierre Aubert, Geneva; two anchors crosswise, Thierry Martens, Antwerp, and Nicholas le Rich; one or more angels, Legnano, Milan; Henaud and Abel L’Angelier, and Dominic Farri, Venice; Arion, Oporinus or Herlist, Brylinger, Louis le Roi, and Pernet, Basle, and Chouet, Geneva; a Basilisk and the four elements, Rogny; Bellerophon, the brothers Arnoul and Charles Angeliers; Guillaume Eustace, and Perier, and Bonel, Venice; a Bull with the sign Taurus and the Zodiac, Nicholas Bevilacqua, Turin; a Cat with a mouse in her mouth, Melchior Sessa and Pietro Nicolini, de Sabio, Venice; two Doves, Jacques Quesnel; an Eagle, Balthazar Bellers, Antwerp, Bladius, Rome, G. Rouille or Roville, Lyons, and the same design—with the motto “Renovabitur ut aquilæ juventus mea”—occurs in the books published in the early years of the seventeenth century by Nicolini, Rabani, Renneri and Co., Venice; the personification of Fortune, Bertier, J. Denis (an elaborate and clever design in which a youth is represented climbing the tree of Fortune), and Adrian le Roy and Robert Ballard, Berde and Rigaud, Lyons, and Giovanni and Andrea Zennaro, Venice; a Fountain, M. Vascosan, the second Frederic Morel (with a Greek motto importing that the fountain of wisdom flows in books), and Cratander, Basle; a Heart, Sebastian Huré and his son-in-law Corbon; Hercules, with the motto, “Virtus non territa monstris,” Vitré, Le Maire, Leyden; a Lion rampant, Arry; a lion rampant crowned on a red ground, Gunther Zainer; a lion led by the hand, Jacques Creigher; a lion supporting a column, Mylius, Strassburg, and a lion with a hour glass, Henric Petri, Basle; a Magpie, Jean Benat or Bienne; this bird also occurs among Robert Estienne’s Marks, and the same subject, with a serpent twining round a branch was used (according to Horne), by Frederic Morel; Mercury, alone or with other classic deities, David Douceur, Biaggio, Lyons; Jean Rossy, Bologne; Verdust, Antwerp, and Hervagius, Basle; a Pelican, N. De Guinguant, S. Nivelle, Girault and De Marnef, C. and F. Franceschini, Venice; Mamarelli, Ferrara; F. Heger, Leyden; E. Barricat, Lyons; and Martin Nuyts and his successor who carried on business under the same name, Antwerp; a Phœnix, Michael Joli, Wyon, Douay; Leffen, Leyden; Martinelli, Rome; and Giolito, Venice; a Salamander, Zenaro, Venice; St. Crespin and Senneton, Lyons; Duversin and Rossi, Rome; a Stork, Nivelle and Cramoisy; St. George and the Dragon, Michel de Hamont, Brussels; a Swan, Blanchet; whilst a swan and a soldier formed the Mark of Peter de Cæsaris and John Stoll, two German printers who were among the earliest to practise the art in Paris.
GERARD LEEU.