University of Virginia Library

Search this document 


  

collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
I
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
collapse section6. 
 01. 
 02. 
 03. 
 04. 
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
  
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 8. 
collapse section9. 
 01. 
 02. 
 03. 
 04. 
 10. 
 11. 
 12. 
 13. 
 14. 
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
collapse section 
  

collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  

I

In general, the analysis of a shared book is complicated by the justifiable inference of time-related production pressure; otherwise sharing would have been unnecessary. Two interrelated circumstances seem to underlie the sharing strategy. First, A Hundreth represented a time-consuming job with its 52 sheets. Such a long book invited sharing, particularly in a healthy business climate when intervening jobs could very likely materialize during printing. A printer would rather not tie up his press(es) for a long time on a single project with jobs appearing regularly. Similarly, preliminary negotiations for future projects could lead a printer to schedule a book with sharing in mind. Second, sharing could be undertaken to satisfy a publisher's desire for rapid printing so as to capitalize upon current but transient public interest aroused by such events as dramatic performances, notorious murders, political events, and the latest developments in the siege of Ostend.[3] In short, the sharing strategy can imply either an expansion of production time through serial printing of sections because of interruptions or a compression through a preplanned concurrent shared printing. The analysis of shared printing proceeds in several stages beginning with the discovery that a book was shared and the definition of the divisions of labor in it, followed by the attempt to identify the printers. Several forms of evidence can be used to locate the book or its sections in the production schedule of the shop(s) of the primary and/or sharing printers. Usually such evidence at least provides a relative temporal reference for the reconstruction of a printing operation.

The detection of sharing is aided by the presence of preliminary "clues" at the boundary between shared sections including: (1) bibliographical anomalies or a change in setting style; (2) a shift in ornamental stock; and (3) a change in fonts. These clues provide an initial insight into the possibility that a book was shared in a particular pattern but require verification by the typographical evidence provided by font analysis. The typographical evidence can reveal further divisions within the sections indicated by the preliminary clues. Several preliminary clues suggest that A Hundreth was shared in at least two clearly defined sections. (1) The full imprint "Printed by Henrie Bynneman | for Richarde Smith." appears in X4v (page 164) at the conclusion of Iocasta and directly preceding "Master F.I.". (2) This imprint is followed by a repeated alphabet. (3) Although the pagination is sequential, it jumps from page 164 (X4v) to 201 (2A1). (4) A second partial imprint "IMPRINTED AT LON-/don for Richard Smith." appears at the end of the book on Ii3.


75

Page 75
(5) In addition, ornaments and initials appear in both apparent sections, a fact which calls for a survey of books by the printer identified in the imprint in order to establish which of the pieces he owned and hence his responsibility for the section(s) in which they appear. The five identifiable initials and one tailpiece seen in A-X can be found without difficulty in Bynneman's other books 1572-74. This evidence supports Bynneman as printer of the section. Similarly, two of the three identifiable initials in the second section (up to 2M3v) can be found in proximate books by Henry Middleton and his partner Thomas East.[4] The identical "printer's flowers" at A3 and 2M3 are a possible source of confusion since these cast ornaments were quite common in the period and could be misinterpreted as evidence of the same printer in both sections. The ornamental evidence clearly points to a sharing boundary at the first imprint on X4v but typographical evidence is necessary for final confirmation of the sharing pattern. (6) A second sharing division at 2S-T is suggested by two setting features. First, the recto element of the running-titles in 2M4-S4 is invariably "sundrie Gentlemen." Beginning with 2T1, "sundry Gentlemen." alternates with "sundrie Gentlemen." in the pattern produced by single-skeleton imposition (i.e., "sundry" moves from 2T1-2, "sundrie" from 2T3-4). A preliminary analysis of running-titles working in both directions from the boundary reveals another fundamental difference: at least three skeletons were used in alternating fashion in 2M-S with a standard measure of 86mm (except in 2S1v,2,4v). The measure shifts to 92mm in 2T1 and thereafter. These changes strongly imply a sharing boundary although other explanations are possible.

Analysis of the fonts in A Hundreth confirms the implicit boundary at 2S-T and reveals that the book was shared in three asymmetrical sections with Bynneman printing A-X, 2T-Ii, and Middleton the middle section 2A-S. A rather common problem arises from the fact that both printers used same-face pica black letter text fonts, pica italic emphasis fonts, and Guyot doublepica roman and italic for sub-titles and running-titles. Nonetheless, the evidence provided by the remaining fonts used for emphasis, headings, and quotations is unequivocal in this instance because of their uniqueness, the alternating patterns of usage, and foul-case cross contamination:

(1) Bynneman's 76mm Guyot pica roman is one of two such fonts to appear in England during the sixteenth century; James Roberts used his at

76

Page 76
a much later date (1597-1605?). The Guyot is interwoven with Bynneman-Y1d in his second section (Dd-Ii) and appears in sheet A in the main title, "The contents.", "Faultes escaped.", and the cast of Supposes.
(2) Bynneman-Y1 was the first Haultin Y-face to appear in England (1570?) and no other printer used the face until 1576 (Middleton began using his in about 1579).[5] Bynneman-Y1 lacked the 'fh' ligature and the 'W w', forcing an alternate setting of 'VV vv' (see later discussion); the font alternates with Bynneman-S1 in speech prefixes and sets most headings and stage directions of the two plays in B-X; and it sets the editorial links, poem titles, and emphasis words in Bynneman's second section until Dd1r where it begins alternating with the Guyot.
(3) In 1573 both Bynneman and Middleton used identical 82mm S-fonts containing the crimped 'w4' variant and lacking the 'fh' ligature.[6] Both printers set 'w' and 'vv', probably a reflection of compositorial habits (also seen in their 96mm roman fonts). Bynneman-S1 alternates with Bynneman-Y1a in the speech prefixes of the two plays (B-X); stage directions are anomalously set in Bynneman-S1 in F2v, H3, P1v, and Q4, a deviation from the consistent use of Bynneman-Y1a elsewhere.
(4) That neither Bynneman-S1 nor Middleton-S1 appear in the center section (2A-S) is clear from the fact that this rare S-font exhibits a 79mm 20-line height, an anomaly in itself, since the bare height of the face is about 82mm.[7] The font sets the enclosed letters in "F.J." and portions of G. T.'s editorial links in "The deuises of sundrie Gentleman (2M3v-S4v). Settling the ownership of the 79mm S-font is complicated by the fact that Middleton rarely used it and that John Awdeley and John Allde also possessed identical castings. In the absence of an adequate sample of Middleton-S2 in a signed, unshared book, compositorial setting habits would provide the one clue (a not very reliable one at that) to Middleton's ownership of the 79mm S-font in A Hundreth. Both Allde's and Awdeley's compositors set 'tall-s h' to supply the missing 'fh' ligature while Middleton's compositor set 'short-s h' in the same situation. Awdeley's font can be rejected after preliminary analysis because

77

Page 77
it contains sorts not seen in the "F.J." S-font (black letter colon and period, and an oversized [96mm equivalent] comma). Fortunately an extensive sample of Middleton-S2 appears in T. Three Partes STC22242 (1574) in combination with the 56mm Cornucopia-I (a2) that begins Middleton's section in A Hundreth (2A1).
(5) Both Bynneman and Middleton used 67mm roman fonts for headings in their respective sections. Middleton's font contains a 'w' struck from an actual 'w' punch while Bynneman's 'w' was cast in a 'w' matrix formed from a side-by-side double strike with a 'v' punch. This and other minor differences distinguish the 67mm romans.
(6) While no 96mm roman type appears in Middleton's section, Bynneman's 96mm font can be identified in his first section in "The Printer to the Reader." (A2-3), "The Prologue" to Supposes, Act/scene settings in the plays, and an anomalous quotation use at C1v; and in G. T.'s prose link (Ii3r) that concludes the book. The font sets both the 'vv' and a miscast oversized 'w' with crossing center stems.

The typographical evidence, in short, demonstrates a division of labor in which Bynneman printed two sections of nineteen sheets (B-X) and fourteen sheets (2T-Ii, A), and Middleton eighteen sheets (2A-S).

The sharing divisions revealed by the preliminary analysis may suggest a particular sharing strategy. In general, the division of labor seen in a shared book usually establishes the minimum time required for printing the book as defined by the largest number of sheets done by any one of the printers. Simple sharing patterns (e.g., four sections of two gatherings each, two sections of four gatherings each, etc.) such as are frequently encountered in play quartos prove nothing about production time but seem to suggest concurrent printing in the context of a deliberately planned time-saving sharing strategy.[8] However, asymmetrical sharing patterns may suggest serial rather than concurrent printing of sections in the absence of other plausible explanations for the resulting divisions of copy.[9] Markedly disproportionate sections raise doubts about the time-saving strategy and in fact may signify the primary printer's effort to offset delays caused by an interruption during which valuable production time was lost. This inference seems especially warranted if the primary printer prints the first and a later section in a book, as is the case in A Hundreth. Hence, the identification of the sharing printers as well as their respective sections is quite important in the temporal context.[10] For example, distinguishing the three sections of A Hundreth without the identification of Bynneman's type in the first and third sections would produce a


78

Page 78
reasonably symmetrical pattern with a plausible textual rationale for the divisions of copy. The first boundary (X4v) occurs at the conclusion of a self-contained text (Iocasta); the second boundary (2S4v) yields a nearly equal number of sheets (nineteen vs. eighteen) and occurs at a point with no textual significance (i.e., within a text, but not at its end), implying that the boundary was arbitrarily chosen to produce the symmetry. This division produces a shorter third section but the added effort of dividing the book into equal sections would make no sense in terms of the overall time-saving resulting from concurrent printing by three printers and the fact that the need for accurate casting-off invited errors. On the other hand, the identification of Bynneman's type in the third section virtually eliminates concurrent printing at least in regard to his sections. The sharing pattern thus suggests either (1) concurrent printing of B-X and 2A-S followed serially by 2T-Ii, A; or (2) serial printing of the first two sections followed by Bynneman's recall and completion of the job. In short, the pattern produced by the identification of the sharing printers can provide circumstantial evidence of serial rather than concurrent printing and thus establish a minimum production time. However, more reliable forms of evidence are required to confirm the temporal implications of a sharing pattern.

The date of printing and the production time required to print a book are essential components of a printing reconstruction that aims at settling time-related textual issues and relating the printing operation to external circumstances such as events in the author's life, literary influence according to the priority of two texts, the possible role of censorship in modification to a text, the relationship among a sequence of editions, the relation between publication vs. performance, and other similar issues. The sharing situation increases the possibility of finding timing evidence since two (or more) shops are involved. The sharing printer's books may provide the necessary evidence that is lacking in books by the primary printer. Four forms of evidence are useful for establishing the date of printing and the production time by locating a book or section(s) of a shared book in the production schedule of the shop(s) involved in its production. The results of the analysis of A Hundreth for these forms of evidence are summarized in the following paragraphs.

(1) Documentary information such as entries in the Stationers' Register and dates found in prefatory materials can provide a temporal reference point. However, such dates must be verified by independent means.[11] A reconstruction often must remain relative because a concrete date cannot be established for the various points in a printing operation. At best, a sequence of dated entries in the Stationers' Register can provide a fairly certain realtime reference for inferences about the schedule of books printed during the


79

Page 79
proximate period. Unfortunately, printers' and publishers' practices varied considerably: some consistently entered their books while others did not. The problem is universal for the early part of the Elizabethan period (roughly pre-1580) before the practice of dating entries was adopted: an indication of the year of entry seems to have sufficed. Books entered during the proximate period to Bynneman, Smith, Middleton, and East follow the early practice for books actually entered, and not all were. The three imprints found in A Hundreth lack the usual annual date, but two specific dates appear in the prefatory materials. "The letter of G. T. to his very friend H.W." is dated "this tenth of August, 1572." followed by "H.W. to the Reader" bearing the date "the xx. of January, 1572[/73]." These dates will be assessed later in the context of the production schedule.

(2) Progressive damage to ornamental stock is useful for locating a book in a shop's production schedule.[12] Beyond that, the recurrence of the same ornament in a sequence of gatherings or in two shared sections by the same printer usually indicates serial rather than concurrent printing because one ornament cannot be on two presses at the same time. In longer books containing many repeat appearances of ornamental stock, concurrent printing thus can be disproved for many of the sheets. Serial printing of all sheets can thus be reliably inferred given an interlocking network of recurrences. A single ornament repeats in A Hundreth but within Bynneman's first section and thus reveals nothing about the printing relation to his second section.

(3) Watermark evidence found in contextual books can frequently establish a book's position in the production schedule. In certain situations, the sequence of job-lots of papers used in books during the proximate period yields watermark evidence which can distinguish between concurrent and serial printing of sections in either shared or unshared books, indicate the point at which copy was divided in shared printing, and provide an indication of delays in production.[13] Unfortunately, the papers in A Hundreth


80

Page 80
comprise a homogeneous job-lot consisting of very closely related varieties of a "cuffed-hand-pointing-at-star" from one continental source. Hence the watermark evidence is ambiguous and reveals nothing about the division of copy and whether printing was concurrent or serial. Moreover, the ambiguity extends beyond A Hundreth and obscures the location of the book in the production schedule in Bynneman's shop. This lot of related watermarks appears exclusively in at least thirteen of Bynneman's books from 1572-74 and then in The Posies. To make matters worse, several of Middleton's books also make exclusive use of the lot.[14] A high-resolution examination of one of the watermarks through the sequence of books, however, might reveal progressive states of deterioration of the mould which could be useful for dating.

(4) Three kinds of typographical evidence are useful for distinguishing serial vs. concurrent printing and for dating.

First, the value of an identified recurrent types survey in the temporal context is generally limited to: (1) those shared books containing two sections printed with the same font by one printer; or (2) books printed by one printer in which one of his fonts appears in sections separated by a section


81

Page 81
printed in his second (and/or third) font.[15] The movement of a group of identified types through the sequence of gatherings comprising the two shared sections demonstrates serial printing of the sections. The typographical samples of Bynneman's three pica roman fonts in A Hundreth are too small to yield recurrent types.

Second, the method of imposition as revealed by the movement of running-titles can distinguish serial vs. concurrent printing. The single-skeleton method of imposition found throughout Bynneman's two sections unequivocally demonstrates serial printing. On the other hand, the fairly regular alternation of three skeletons imposed according to the single-skeleton method in Middleton's section clearly raises the possibility of concurrent printing on his three presses for most of his section. However, a few irregularities suggest that only two presses were involved.

Third, typographical evidence provided by a sequence of font transformations is quite valuable in establishing the relative position of a book in a shop's production schedule.[16] This form of evidence provides the key to the reconstruction of Bynneman's shop schedule and the dating of the sections of A Hundreth.