Franz von Dingelstedt

“ Brockhaus and Hadnel, those coryphées of the present day of the art of typography, who draw off their books on Stanhope presses, in frames of highly polished wood, fastened with bright iron screws, perhaps you will not feel any repugnance to follow me into the low dark abode to which I am about to introduce you. We enter. The night is mild and beautiful, the moon’s silvery beams rest gently on the undulations28 of the eternally flowing Rhine, a light breeze trembles through the vine leaves, the deep shadows of the houses conceal here and there the streets of old Maïence. ”

“ As how John Fust, master printer in the city of Maïence, gave his daughter Christine to wife to Peter Schoeffer his partner, and what came of it.
A wedding! how much joy is contained in that word! but even more in the thing itself! You, however, who live in these days, can hardly form an idea of what a wedding was in the good old times, for you possess only the shadow, and even that is of the palest hue. ”

“ When John Gutenberg returned he found in his humble room, besides his faithful Beildech, a young stranger awaiting him, who hastened, when the old man entered, to rise and salute him respectfully. Surprised at so late an hour of the night to see a stranger, Gutenberg asked him the motive of his visit. “Master,” replied the young man, “I come to do homage, through you, to the great art which you exercise.” Then he added a familiar saying, “May God bless the workshop to-day, to-morrow, and always! who cares for its size when it is so full of honour?” ”

“ The name and the person of the solitary originator,48 whatever may be his efforts, will soon disappear; but all that has been denied to the man while living, becomes a debt to posterity, which is bound in gratitude to seek out and bring to light him who has contributed in so large a measure to art and science by his inventive genius. That is why, O Gutenberg, on that very spot where, perhaps, on that night thou wert looking up to heaven in deep sadness, feeling that thy star was on the wane, thy descendants see to-day thy bronze form casting its shadow before thee! ”

“ That very morning John Gutenberg had seen a copy of the magnificent Bible recently edited by Fust and Schoeffer, and, in spite of the secret pride of the printer, he could not deny to himself that his pupils had surpassed him. Gutenberg belonged to that class of men of genius, or choice spirits, destined by Providence to conceive the grandest ideas, to attain the most wonderful discoveries, but who are crippled in the details of execution, and incapable of drawing any material profit from their discoveries. ”

“ A thunderbolt would not have separated those two men clasped together. The old man, although unable to look upon the son who had been given to him, uttered no complaint; his lips, his hands, his arms, were as so many eyes to him. “Before I knew,” said Gutenberg, “the treasure I possessed in thee, I recollect tracing in the frank and amiable expression of thy face something of my Gisquette.” ”

“ That which happens now happens justly, for your labour has been far less for the sake87 of your art, and its progress, than for your own personal interest. I tell you, Master Fust, this art, of which you despair, shall be eternal as the word which created it is great in the sight of men; and it is as little likely to perish in the flames of your dwelling, as the heavens are likely to perish which you see stretched out so far above you, in their blue stillness and beauty! Behold, Master Fust, your workshop is empty, your workmen are dispersed—reflect on what I say! ”

“ My son! man is corrupt from his earliest years, and his heart is full of wickedness. My soul was bursting with the blackest, vilest envy. At the sight of these poor, happy work-people, I said to myself, each has his own place under the sun, each knows what he has to do, and I—I alone, am condemned to be a useless, unemployed wanderer! At this very moment, as if the Almighty wished to punish me in his own way, for my blind rebellion, a load of grapes was thrown just before me, under the screw of the wine-press; the machine began working immediately for the vine-dresser. ”

“ Man will ever remain man. His heart cannot feed eternally on glory139 and on hope. Love will always be the best part of his being, and that is why I would have given the labour of my whole life in exchange for thee, Claude, who art even more to me than my invention; thou art my son, the messenger sent by Gisquette, who speaks to me from eternal blessedness!”
* I will not, says the author of the Death of Gutenberg, let the authority for the blindness of my hero rest on fiction alone. ”

“ If the Syndic reproached Gutenberg with making an unnecessary mystery of his labours, the effort being useless, herein lay the cause. Gutenberg had always professed that he never would make a trade of his art. “Have I then,” said he, “created a new corporation, among the many others, only that I may see the ancient escutcheon of my ancestors suspended side by side with the vulgarest ensigns at the doors of taverns, and of abbeys? My art belongs to me as much as to the rest of the world; let it remain the property of intelligence, and only be practised by those who have been initiated in it. ”

“ As for the bridegroom he was in the height of good humour, for the pre-occupations of his uncle the Burgomaster affected him but very slightly. “Eh! what then,” said he to the assembled guests, “are we not here in our free city of Maïence, under the protection of the pastoral staff of His Grace our Archbishop, whom may God protect? Let my Lord of Nassau intrigue, and cabal as he will, as long as the Rhine flows between him and us, as long as our good walls defend us, we may laugh at his Grace; and moreover our art, our beautiful art, does it not flourish more and more every year? ”

“ Humbert.
It was indeed he, and Fust, glad to find some one on whom to vent his anger, hurled these words at him, accompanied by looks as fiery as the flames which were consuming his house. “Man—what brings you here? Are you come to feast your eyes on the sight of our misery, or, perhaps, to beg your bread from beggars?” The person so offensively addressed, contented himself with shaking his head gently, and without even looking at Schoeffer, who at the sight of Gutenberg had turned away, taking Dame Christine with him. ”

“ Dost thou recollect, my good Beildech, how in the year —20 we travelled this road together? I proudly on horseback, a boasting young aristocrat, just like all the rest, thinking myself quite equal to the Furstenberg, the Volksberg, the Gelthuss, the Humbert, canst thou not see me now with my fine floating feather fastened to my velvet cap, and my slashed doublet covered with an abundance of ribbon? ”

“ On one of the last evenings of the autumn of this same year, Beildech and the young Frenchman sat by Gutenberg’s couch watching his restless and feverish sleep. Outside, the night was dark and gloomy; the waters of the Rhine, swollen by the rain, beat against the walls of the hut, and a sharp wind which blew down in squalls from the hills shook the framework of the miserable dwelling. The sick man had been suffering all day ”

“ When day began to dawn the flames of these incendiary fires lighted up the streets,72 the alarm bells rang, the houses resounded with cries and lamentations, as well as with the noise of arms; a memorable spectacle of anguish which lasted from the first rays of the morning until the evening sun retired to rest, bathed as it were in blood, behind the waters of the Rhine. The people defended themselves in a manner worthy of free citizens ”

“ Recollect all the law-suits, all the quarrels, which have disturbed your younger days, and, as we are speaking freely to one another, tell me what have you gained by keeping your art secret, to such an excess even that you only work with bolted doors, and you forbid your workmen to loiter in the streets, for fear they should be tempted to divulge your secret? ”

“ The Syndic took the arm of Gutenberg kindly. “Master, do not be vexed with me if I now and then say a word which may doubtless appear rather harsh to you, but which I speak from my heart. See how many hours you spend in dreaming, in devising means to perfect your art, and in the meanwhile hands more active than yours rob you of your discoveries. Peter Schoeffer, for instance, has he not made a fortune with his impressions? and he has secured a rich wife into the bargain. ”

“ And dost thou not guess how I was bound by my mother, by a solemn oath, never to utter a single word that could recall her to thy memory, until thou thyself hadst in some manner named her?—‘Be, if it must be so, his most humble attendant, for he is thy father; and if thou findest Gutenberg in prosperity, which I pray Heaven he may be, and he has forgotten the days at Aix-la-Chapelle, oh, do not invoke the shade of poor Gisquette to place it between him and happiness! But if he is in trouble he will of himself think of me ”

“ The scroll of parchment fell from the hands of the reader, and it was a touching sight to see the old Lawrence pressing the right hand of his beloved master, while, with uplifted face towards heaven, he murmured, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace!”
As for Gutenberg, pale and motionless on his pallet, a few stray tears wandered down his cheeks on to his grizzled beard, but not a muscle of his face, or a movement of his body, denoted that life still existed within him ”

“ Let others, if they will, place themselves on a rank with the tailor, who cuts my doublet, and the shoemaker,47 who sews the leather of my shoes, what I require is something above that—it is the constant improvement of my art, it is an independent labour, for which neither my name nor my ancestors need blush.”
Poor dreamer! thou knewest not what a serious practical thing a new discovery becomes to its author, and the more important it is, the more it conceals in its bosom hopes and riches for the future, the more quickly disappears, from the memory of men, the source from which it was derived. ”

“ The arts and sciences which we pursue without relaxation, the fame and glory which shall carry our names to posterity, are but as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals in comparison with the words of love, pure, divine, and human love. ”

“ These are no longer similar times to those when you came from Strasburg, and when you printed your first Donat; it was then allowable to make a mystery of your discovery, but now41 that Fust and Schoeffer have publicly established a workshop at the Great St. Humbert, with workmen and apprentices from all parts of the world, when such towns of Germany as Strasburg, Bamberg, and Frankfort, and Holland are hastening to reap what you have sown, one asks oneself of what use it is to keep your art concealed, as if it were the philosopher’s stone. ”

“ Every one will avoid in future the revival of a profession on which the curse of heaven so evidently rests. You and I to be so completely ruined! O cursed be the hour when you first crossed my threshold, when by enticing words you persuaded me to join in the work of Satan! ”

“ Beildech, trembling from head to foot, drew the young Frenchman quickly to the other side of the bed. “Beloved Master,” he said, “be so good as to turn and to open your eyes, the torch is in its usual place.”
“I tell thee thou liest,” said Gutenberg angrily, “is not everything here as dark as in a tomb? Claude, my son, answer me—where art thou?”
He whom he called was close to his master’s head, he shuddered as he bent down towards him. “Here I am,” he said, in a low voice, taking hold affectionately of his master’s hand ”

“ No one cared about typography; the sacking of Maïence had dispersed crowds of fugitive workmen to all parts of the Rhine country, and printers were in such especial abundance, that there seemed no opening anywhere for the old man. To place himself under the orders of another was what the Master could not make up his mind to do. Gutenberg wished for his own workshop, and to work at his own hours, even though his purse should remain scantily furnished. ”

“ Poetry in composing a picture, of which the plot has been gathered thread by thread from the dark abyss of archives, has taken upon herself to throw a ray of light on the last days of the great inventor, to cast on his tomb a palm-branch of peace and of hope. Was that not her141 right? And has she any occasion to justify herself? In our opinion the noblest duty of intelligence, as well as its most glorious appanage, is to enlighten, to reconcile, to restore to light, especially when life has only left behind it a few vague shadows, and an unknown tomb! ”

“ I have found it!’ Some day, perhaps, thou mayest thyself experience these ecstasies, when, after having long wandered in darkness, suddenly light breaks in upon thee, a delirium seizes one, the sinner falls down on his knees to thank God, from whom proceeds all light,64 that God to whom we, the ungrateful children of earth, do not fear, in our ignorant pride, to aspire to an equality! ”

“ Fate, sitting above your head bowed down with grief, scatters the ashes of your books to the four winds of heaven; well, by the very fact of the suspension of our work, and banishment from our hearths and homes, our art will 88extend itself to the farthest corners of the world. ”

“ For human activity there exists no monopoly, no privileges; no sooner does a new idea break forth than it becomes public property; what the one finds, the other cultivates, he profits by it, he improves it, it is a streamlet of blood added to the general circulation. ”