Commit 30083f7a authored by Fred Chasen's avatar Fred Chasen

Update footnotes specs

parent 485d1ddf
Pipeline #719 passed with stage
in 3 minutes and 55 seconds
......@@ -5,7 +5,7 @@
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
Footnotes Display
<!-- Paged js-->
......@@ -93,7 +93,7 @@
span.footnote-block {
float: footnote;
footnote-display: blcok;
footnote-display: block;
.footnote-block::footnote-call {
......@@ -5,7 +5,7 @@
<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
Footnotes Policy
<!-- Paged js-->
......@@ -68,7 +68,6 @@
span.footnote-auto {
float: footnote;
footnote-policy: auto;
footnote-display: compact;
.footnote-auto::footnote-call {
......@@ -82,7 +81,6 @@
span.footnote-line {
float: footnote;
footnote-policy: line;
footnote-display: compact;
.footnote-line::footnote-call {
......@@ -96,7 +94,6 @@
span.footnote-block {
float: footnote;
footnote-policy: block;
footnote-display: compact;
.footnote-block::footnote-call {
......@@ -21,6 +21,36 @@ describe("footnote-policy", () => {
it("display auto footnotes should split text", async () => {
let textStart = await page.$eval("[data-page-number='1']", (r) => r.textContent);
let textEnd = await page.$eval("[data-page-number='2']", (r) => r.textContent);
expect(textEnd).toContain("genus typos me vidisse");
it("display line footnotes should stay with the callout line", async () => {
let textStart = await page.$eval("[data-page-number='4']", (r) => r.textContent);
// line
// footnote
it("display block footnotes should stay with the callout paragraph block", async () => {
let textStart = await page.$eval("[data-page-number='6']", (r) => r.textContent);
// paragraph
expect(textStart).toContain("The legend");
// footnote
if (!DEBUG) {
it("should create a pdf", async () => {
......@@ -29,6 +59,7 @@ describe("footnote-policy", () => {
......@@ -16,19 +16,16 @@
orphans: 1;
.pagedjs_page {
border: 1px solid #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
@media screen {
.pagedjs_page {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
@page {
size: 160mm 210mm;
margin-top: 83px;
......@@ -15,20 +15,17 @@
widows: 1;
orphans: 1;
.pagedjs_page {
border: 1px solid #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
@media screen {
.pagedjs_page {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
@page {
size: 160mm 210mm;
margin-top: 83px;
......@@ -41,16 +38,13 @@
@footnote {
border-top: 2px dotted black;
.chapter {
break-before: page;
counter-reset: footnote;
counter-reset: page 1 footnote;
p {
......@@ -62,8 +56,6 @@
line-height: 16px;
.afnanch {
display: none;
......@@ -80,26 +72,18 @@
float: footnote;
display: inline;
::footnote-marker {
color: blue !important;
font-weight: bold;
/* font-size: 30px; */
/* content: counter(footnote, lower-alpha); */
::footnote-call {
color: orange;
font-weight: bold;
......@@ -109,7 +93,7 @@
<h1>Chapitre 1</h1>
<p class="pfirst">For four centuries the noise of controversy has raged round
<p>For four centuries the noise of controversy has raged round
the cradle of Typography. Volumes have been written,
lives have been spent, fortunes have been wasted, communities
have been stirred, societies have been organised,
......@@ -185,100 +169,6 @@
common is a quality shared also by the playing-cards,
pictures, seals, stamps, brands, and all the other applications of the principle of impression which had
existed in one form or another from time immemorial.</p>
<p>It is reasonable to suppose that the first idea of movable type may have
been suggested to the mind of the inventor by a study of the works of a
xylographic printer, and an observation of the cumbrous and wearisome method
by which his books were produced. The toil involved in first painfully tracing
the characters and figures, reversed, on the wood, then of engraving them,
and, finally, of printing them with the frotton, would appear—in the case, at any
rate, of the small school-books, for the production of which this process was largely
resorted to—scarcely less tedious than copying the required number by the deft pen
of a scribe. And even if, at a later period, the bookmakers so far facilitated their
labours as to write their text in the ordinary manner on prepared paper, or with
prepared ink, and so transfer their copy, after the manner of the Chinese, on to the
wood, the labour expended in proportion to the result, and the uselessness of the
blocks when once their work was done, would doubtless impress an inventive
genius with a sense of dissatisfaction and impatience. We can imagine him
examining the first page of an <em>Abecedarium</em>, on which would be engraved, in
three lines, with a clear space between each character, the letters of the alphabet,
and speculating, as Cicero had speculated centuries before,<span class="footnote" data-note="03"
id="note-03">Hic ego non mirer esse quemquam qui
sibi persuadeat
.&#160;.&#160;.&#160;. mundum effici .&#160;.&#160;.&#160;. ex concursione fortuitâ! Hoc qui existimet
fieri potuisse, non intelligo cur non idem putet si innumerabiles
unius et viginti formæ litterarum, vel aureæ, vel qualeslibet, aliquò
conjiciantur, posse ex his in terram excussis, annales Ennii, ut
deinceps legi possint, effici” (<em>De Nat. Deor.</em>, lib. ii). Cicero was
not the only ancient writer who entertained the idea of mobile letters.
Quintilian suggests the use of ivory letters for teaching children
to read while playing: “Eburneas litterarum formas in ludum offere”
(<em>Inst. Orat.</em>, i, cap. 1); and Jerome, writing to Læta, propounds the
same idea: “Fiant ei (Paulæ) litteræ vel buxeæ vel eburneæ, et suis
nominibus appellentur. Ludat in eis ut et lusus ipse eruditio fiat.”</span>
on the possibilities presented by the combination in indefinite variety of those twenty-five symbols.
Being a practical man as well as a theorist, we may suppose he would attempt
to experiment on the little wood block in his hand, and by sawing off first
the lines, and then some of the letters in the lines, attempt to arrange his little
types into a few short words. A momentous experiment, and fraught with the
greatest revolution the world has ever known!</p>
<p>No question has aroused more interest, or excited keener discussion in the
history of printing, than that of the use of movable wooden types as a first
stage in the passage from Xylography to Typography. Those who write on the
affirmative side of the question profess to see in the earlier typographical works,
as well as in the historical statements handed down by the
old authorities, the clearest evidence that wooden types were used, and that several of the most
famous works of the first printers were executed by their means.</p>
<p>As regards the latter source of their confidence, it is at least remarkable
that no single writer of the fifteenth century makes the slightest allusion to the
use of wooden types. Indeed, it was not till Bibliander, in 1548,<span class="footnote" data-note="04"
id="note-04"><em>In Commentatione de ratione
communi omnium linguarum et
literarum.</em> Tiguri, 1548, p. 80.</span>
first mentioned
and described them, that anything professing to be a record on the subject
existed. “First they cut their letters,” he says, “on wood blocks the size of an
entire page, but because the labour and cost of that way was so great, they devised
movable wooden types, perforated and joined one to the other by a thread.”</p>
<p>The legend, once started, found no lack of sponsors, and the typographical
histories of the sixteenth century and onward abound with testimonies confirmatory
more or less of Bibliander’s statement. Of these testimonies, those only
are worthy of attention which profess to be based on actual inspection of the
alleged perforated wooden types. Specklin<span class="footnote" data-note="05" id="note-05">In <em>Chronico
Argentoratensi</em>, <em>m.s.</em> ed. Jo. Schilterus,
p. 442. “Ich habe die erste press, auch die buchstaben gesehen, waren
von holtz geschnitten, auch gäntze wörter und syllaben, hatten löchle,
und fasst man an ein schnur nacheinander mit einer nadel, zoge sie
darnach den zeilen in die länge,” etc.</span>
(who died in 1589) asserts that he
saw some of these relics at Strasburg. Angelo Roccha,<span class="footnote" data-note="06"
Bibliothecâ Vaticanâ.</em> Romæ, 1591, p. 412.
“Characteres enim a primis illis inventoribus non ita eleganter et
expedite, ut a nostris fieri solet, sed filo in litterarum foramen
immisso connectebantur, sicut Venetiis id genus typos me vidisse
in 1591, vouches for the
existence of similar letters (though he does not say whether wood or metal) at
Venice. Paulus Pater,<span class="footnote" data-note="07" id="note-07"><em>De Germaniæ Miraculo</em>, etc.
Lipsiæ, 1710, p. 10.
&#160;.&#160;.&#160;.&#160;. ligneos typos, ex buxi frutice, perforatos in medio, ut zonâ
colligari unâ jungique commode possint, ex Fausti officina reliquos,
Moguntiæ aliquando me conspexisse memini.”</span>
in 1710, stated that he had once seen some belonging to
Fust at Mentz; Bodman, as late as 1781, saw the same types in a worm-eaten
condition at Mentz; while Fischer,<span class="footnote" data-note="08" id="note-08"><em>Essai sur les
Typographiques de Jean Gutenburg.</em>
Mayence, an 10, 1802, p. 39.</span>
in 1802, stated that these precious relics were
used as a sort of token of honour to be bestowed on worthy apprentices on the
occasion of their finishing their term.</p>
<section class="chapter">
......@@ -330,215 +220,6 @@
produced in 1440 by a method which even the modern cutting and modern
presswork of 1836 failed to adapt to a single page of large-sized print.
<p>John Enschedé, the famous Haarlem typefounder, though a strong adherent
to the Coster legend, was compelled to admit the practical impossibility, in his
day at any rate, of producing a single wood type which would stand the test of
being mathematically square; nor would it be possible to square it after being
cut. “No engraver,” he remarks, “is able to cut separate letters in wood in
such a manner that they retain their quadrature (for that is the main thing
of the line in type-casting).”<span class="footnote" data-note="12" id="note-12">Van der Linde, <em>Haarlem
Legend</em>. Lond., p. 72</span>
Admitting for a moment that some printer may
have succeeded in putting together a page of these wooden types, without the
aid of leads, into a chase: how can it be supposed that after their exposure to
the warping influences of the sloppy ink and tight pressure during the impression,
they could ever have survived to be distributed and recomposed into another
forme?><span class="footnote" data-note="13" id="note-13">Skeen, in
his <em>Early Typography</em>, Colombo, 1872, takes
up the challenge thrown down by Dr. Van der Linde on the strength
of Enschedé’s opinion, and shows a specimen of three letters cut in
boxwood, pica size, one of which he exhibits again at the close of
the book after 1,500 impressions. But the value of Skeen’s arguments
and experiments is destroyed when he sums up with this absurd dictum:
“Three letters are as good as 3,000 or 30,000 or 300,000 to demonstrate
the fact that words are and can be, and that therefore pages and whole
books may be (and therefore also that they may have been) printed from
such separable wooden types.”—P. 424.</span></p>
<p>The claims set up on behalf of movable wood types as the means by which
the <em>Speculum</em> or any other of the earliest books was printed, are not only historically
unsupported, but the whole weight of practical evidence rejects them.</p>
<p>Dismissing them, therefore, from our consideration, a new theory confronts
us, which at first blush seems to supply, if not a more probable, certainly a more
possible, stepping-stone between Xylography and Typography. We refer to
what Meerman, the great champion of this theory,
calls the “sculpto-fusi” characters: types, that is, the shanks of which have been cast in a quadrilateral
mould, and the “faces” engraved by hand afterwards.</p>
<p>Meerman and those who agree with him engage a large array of testimony
on their side. In the reference of Celtis, in 1502, to Mentz as the city “quæ
prima sculpsit solidos ære characteres,” they see a clear confirmation of their
theory; as also in the frequent recurrence of the same word “sculptus” in the
colophons of the early printers. Meerman, indeed, goes so far as to ingeniously
explain the famous account of the invention given by Trithemius in 1514,<span class="footnote"
data-note="14" id="note-14"><em>Annales Hirsaugienses</em>, ii,
p. 421: “Post hæc inventis
successerunt subtiliora, inveneruntque modum fundendi formas omnium
Latini Alphabeti literarum quas ipsi matrices nominabant; ex quibus
rursum æneos sive stanneos characteres fundebant, ad omnem pressuram
sufficientes, quos prius manibus sculpebant.” Trithemius’ statement, as
every student of typographical history is aware, has been made to fit
every theory that has been propounded, but it is doubtful whether any
other writer has stretched it quite as severely as Meerman in the above
rendering of these few Latin lines.</span>
in the light of his theory, to mean that, after the rejection of the first wooden types, “the
inventors found out a method of casting the bodies only (fundendi formas) of all
the letters of the Latin alphabet from what they called matrices, on which they
cut the face of each letter; and from the same kind of matrices a method was in
time discovered of casting the complete letters (æneos sive stanneos characteres)
of sufficient hardness for the pressure they had to bear, which letters before—that
is, when the bodies only were cast—they were obliged to cut.”<span class="footnote" data-note="15"
id="note-15"><em>Origines Typographicæ</em>,
Gerardo Meerman auctore. Hagæ
Com., 1765. Append., p. 47.</span></p>
<p>After this bold flight of translation, it is not surprising to find that Meerman
claims that the <em>Speculum</em> was printed in “sculpto-fusi” types, although in the
one page of which he gives a facsimile there are nearly 1,700 separate types, of
which 250 alone are <em>e</em>’s.</p>
<p>Schoepflin, claiming the same invention for the Strasburg printers, believes
that all the earliest books printed there were produced by this means; and both
Meer­man and Schoep­flin agree that engraved metal types were in use for many
years after the invention of the punch and matrix, mentioning, among others so
printed, the Mentz <em>Psalter</em>, the <em>Catholicon</em> of 1460, the Eggestein <em>Bible</em> of 1468,
and even the <em>Nideri Præ­cep­tor­ium</em>, printed at Stras­burg as late as 1476, as “literis
in ære sculptis.”</p>
<p>Almost the whole historical claim of the engraved metal types, indeed, turns
on the recurrence of the term “sculptus” in the colophons of the early printers.
Jenson, in 1471, calls himself a “cutter of books” (librorum exsculptor).
in 1475, says that the <em>Codex Jus­tin­ianus</em> is “cut” (insculptus), and that
he has “cut” (sculpsit) the work of <em>Lombardus in Psalterium</em>. Husner of Strasburg,
in 1472, applies the term “printed with letters
cut of metal” (exsculptis ære litteris) to the <em>Speculum Durandi</em>; and of the <em>Præceptorium
Nideri</em>, printed in
1476, he says it is “printed in letters cut of metal by a very ingenious effort”
(litteris exsculptis artificiali certe conatu ex ære). As Dr. Van der Linde points
out, the use of the term in reference to all these books can mean nothing else
than a figurative allusion to the first process towards producing the types, namely,
the cutting of the punch<span class="footnote" data-note="16" id="note-16">The constant recurrence in more
modern typographical
history of the expression “to cut matrices,” meaning of course to
cut the punches necessary to form the matrices, bears out the same
conclusion.</span>; just as when Schoeffer, in 1466, makes his <em>Grammatica
Vetus Rhythmica</em> say, “I am cast at Mentz” (At Moguntia sum fusus in urbe
libellus), he means nothing more than a figurative allusion to the casting of the
<p>The theory of the sculpto-fusi types appears to have sprung up on no firmer
foundation than the difficulty of accounting for the marked irregularities in the
letters of the earliest printed books, and the lack of a theory more feasible than that
of movable wood type to account for it. The method suggested by Meerman
seemed to meet the requirements of the case, and with the aid of the very
free translation of Trithemius’ story, and the very literal translation of certain
colophons, it managed to get a footing on the typographical records.</p>
<p>Mr. Skeen seriously applies himself to demonstrate how the shanks could
be cast in clay moulds stamped with a number of trough-like matrices representing
the various widths of the blanks required, and calculates that at the rate
of four a day, 6,000 of these blanks could be engraved on the end by one man
in five years, the whole weighing 100 lb. when finished! “No wonder,” Mr.
Skeen naïvely observes, “that Fust at last grew impatient.” We must confess
that there seems less ground for believing in the use of “sculpto-fusi” types as
the means by which any of the early books were produced, than in the perforated
wood types. The enormous labour involved, in itself renders the idea improbable.
As M. Bernard says, “How can we suppose that intelligent men like the
first printers would not at once find out that they could easily cast the face and
body of their types together?”<span class="footnote" data-note="17" id="note-17"><em>Origine et Débuts de
l’Imprimerie en Europe.</em> Paris,
1853, 8vo, i, 38.</span>
But admitting the possibility of producing type
in this manner, and the possible obtuseness which could allow an inventor of
printing to spend five years in laboriously engraving “shanks” enough for a single
forme, the lack of any satisfactory evidence that such types were ever used, even
experimentally, inclines us to deny them any place in the history of the origin
of typography.</p>
<p>Putting aside, therefore, as improbable, and not proved,
the two theories of engraved movable types, the question arises, Did typography, like her patron
goddess, spring fully armed from the brain of her inventor? in other words, did
men pass at a single stride from xylography to the perfect typography of
the punch, the matrix, and the mould? or are we still to seek for an intermediate
stage in some ruder and more primitive process of production? To this question
we cannot offer a better reply than that contained in the following passage from
Mr. Blades’s admirable life of Caxton.<span class="footnote" data-note="18" id="note-18"><em>Life and
of William Caxton.</em> London, 1861–3, 2
vols, 4to, ii, xxiv.</span>
“The examination of many specimens,”
he observes, “has led me to conclude that two schools of typography existed
together .&#160;.&#160;. The ruder consisted of those printers who practised their art in
Holland and the Low Countries, .&#160;.&#160;. and who, by degrees only, adopted the
better and more perfect methods of the .&#160;.&#160;. school founded in Germany by
the celebrated trio, Gutenberg, Fust, and Schoeffer.”</p>
<p>It is impossible, we think, to resist the conclusion that all the earlier works
of typography were the impression of cast metal types; but that the methods of
casting employed were not always those of matured letter-founding, seems
to us not only probable, but evident, from a study of the works themselves.</p>
<p>Mr. Theo. De Vinne, in his able treatise on the invention of printing,<span class="footnote" data-note="19"
id="note-19"><em>The Invention of Printing.</em>
New York, 1876. 8vo.</span>
speaking with the authority of a practical typographer, insists that the key to
that invention is to be found, not in the press nor in the movable types,
but in the adjustable type-mould, upon which, he argues, the existence of
typography depends. While not prepared to go as far as Mr. De Vinne
on this point, and still content to regard the invention of movable types as the
real key to the invention of typography proper, we find in the mould not only
the culminating achievement of the inventor, but also the key to the distinction
between the two schools of early typography to which we have alluded.</p>
<p>The adjustable mould was undoubtedly the goal of the discovery, and those
who reached it at once were the advanced typographers of the Mentz press.
Those who groped after it through clumsy and tedious by-ways were the rude
artists of the <em>Donatus</em> and <em>Speculum</em>.</p>
<p>In considering the primitive modes of type-casting, it must be frankly
admitted that the inquirer stands in a field of pure conjecture. He has only
negative evidence to assure him that such primitive modes undoubtedly did
exist, and he searches in vain for any direct clue as to the nature and details
of those methods.</p>
<p>We shall briefly refer to one or two theories which have been propounded,
all with more or less of plausibility.</p>
<p>Casting in sand was an art not unknown to the
silversmiths and trinket-makers of the fifteenth century, and several writers have suggested that some of
the early printers applied this process to typefounding. M. Bernard<span class="footnote" data-note="20"
id="note-20"><em>Origine de l’Imprimerie</em>,
i, 40.</span>
that the types of the <em>Speculum</em> were sand-cast, and accounts for the varieties
observable in the shapes of various letters, by explaining that several models
would probably be made of each letter, and that the types when cast would, as is
usual after sand-casting, require some touching up or finishing by hand. He
shows a specimen of a word cast by himself by this process, which, as far as it
goes, is a satisfactory proof of the possibility of casting letters in this way.<span class="footnote"
data-note="21" id="note-21">Mr. Blades points out that there
are no overhanging
letters in the specimen. The necessity for such letters would be, we
imagine, entirely obviated by the numerous combinations with which the
type of the printers of the school abounded. The body is almost always
large enough to carry ascending and descending sorts, and in width,
a sort which would naturally overhang, is invariably covered by its
following letter cast on the same piece.</span>
There are, indeed, many points in this theory which satisfactorily account
for peculiarities in the appearance of books printed by the earliest rude Dutch
School. Not only are the irregularities of the letters in body and line intelligible,
but the specks between the lines, so frequently observable, would be accounted
for by the roughness on the “shoulders” of the sand-cast bodies.<span class="footnote" data-note="22"
id="note-22">It is well known that until
comparatively recently the
large “proscription letters” of our foundries, from three-line pica and
upwards, were cast in sand. The practice died out at the close of last
......@@ -13,12 +13,12 @@ describe("footnotes-counter-reset", () => {
it("should render 15 pages", async () => {
it("should render 5 pages", async () => {
let pages = await page.$$eval(".pagedjs_page", (r) => {
return r.length;
......@@ -26,9 +26,9 @@ describe("footnotes-counter-reset", () => {
it("should create a pdf", async () => {
let pdf = await page.pdf(PDF_SETTINGS);
......@@ -16,12 +16,14 @@
orphans: 1;
.pagedjs_page {
border: 1px solid #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
@media screen {
.pagedjs_page {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px #666;
.pagedjs_area {
box-shadow: 0 0 0 1px teal;
......@@ -109,34 +111,6 @@