This post looks at the development of handwriting and its practice in Western Europe, as seen through examples from the University of Edinburgh Library’s Special Collections.  It was written by Jaycee Streeter, Outreach and Communications Intern for the Esther Inglis Project. Jaycee is a History MSc student at the University, with research interests in late medieval and early modern Scottish history. 

Handwriting has long been more than just a means of communication—it is both an art form and a technical skill, as well as a reflection of cultural values. Over the centuries, the practice of handwriting has evolved in response to new technologies, educational methods, and aesthetic preferences. At the heart of this evolution lies a process of imitation and refinement, guided by teachers and handwriting manuals that sought to standardize and perfect script. From the carefully trained hands of medieval scribes to early modern calligraphers who experimented with new styles, and finally to 19th-century enthusiasts compiling historical examples, the history of handwriting is one of both continuity and transformation. 

This article traces the technical development of handwriting in Western Europe through the lens of imitation and instruction, as seen through examples from the University of Edinburgh Library’s Special Collections. It will start with the uniformity of Gothic script in medieval texts which relied on strict models and training, before moving to the early modern period, where the invention of new scripts was accompanied by the rise in handwriting manuals. Figures such as Esther Inglis, who honed her craft through calligraphic guides, and David Spence whose 1689 handwriting manual offered instruction, will demonstrate this trend. Finally, it will look at the 19th-century renewed interest in historical scripts, and the efforts to both compile early modern examples and imitate medieval scripts.  

Medieval Gothic

Medieval illuminated manuscripts are famous for their decadent designs and a Gothic writing-style called textualis. The uniformity of medieval Gothic script reflects highly structured training and disciplined practice of scribes. Medieval scribes typically learned to write through a structured apprenticeship, often within monastic or cathedral schools.  

Training began with the careful copying of letterforms from models, sometimes using wax tablets before transitioning to parchment. The process emphasized repetition and precision, with scribes working under the supervision of a master. 

This standardization of writing was popular from the 12th to 15th centuries especially, and ensured efficiency and legibility. Special Collections has a variety of medieval manuscripts to examine, but here are two particularly fine examples of Books of Hours created in France in the early 15th century that demonstrate the uniformity of Gothic writing. Books of Hours were prayer books designed for laypeople, and included prayers, psalms, and hymns for at-home devotion. 

MS 43 (left) starts with a perpetual calendar, indicating saints days and other holy days. The days are of the week are marked by dominical letters, or Sunday letters (A-G), and indicate corresponding days and dates in the ecclesiastical calendar. In Books of Hours, there could be significant variation between copies based on familial or regional interest in certain saints.

This page of MS 46 (right) shows how the prayers themselves were laid out for reading. Many of the prayers are devoted to powerful intercessors, such as the Virgin Mary and saints, and may include imagery related to that saint’s life.  

In both manuscripts, you can see the faint lines guiding the writing to ensure uniformity and even spacing. Though the adornments surrounding the words are unique, the lettering itself is very uniform, and the script very similar between the two. This is evidence of the aforementioned training that medieval scribes would have gone through to ensure uniformity.  

It’s also worth noting that these are extremely fine examples, created by masters of the craft. Although it is possible they were monastic productions, most Books of Hours were created by professional artisans in towns who would have been paid for their work, or given patronage. The owners of Books of Hours are largely associated with those of high social status.  

Early Modern Calligraphy and Handwriting Manuals 

The middle of the 16th century ushered in a change to handwriting techniques and an excitement about new kinds of scripts. The Renaissance ushered a move away from Gothic scripts, and both Italian and Secretary scripts entered the mainstream. Calligraphers sought to invent new grand ways to present the alphabet, especially in competition with print, which will be discussed more later. Thus the popularity of handwriting manuals emerged as well—instruction books with different font examples for students of calligraphy to imitate and practice, and flourish with their own ideas. 

Esther Inglis, one of Scotland’s most accomplished and skilled early modern calligraphers, is one such student of handwriting manuals. One of her early manuscripts shows her practicing different calligraphy fonts, with increasing theatricality. 

Some of these styles be traced to Jean de Beauchesne’s “A Booke Containing Divers Sorts of Handes”, a French handwriting manual published in London that Inglis must have had access to. In this way, Beauchesne was one of Inglis’ main teachers in the craft, without ever having to personally instruct her. 

Though the University only has a facsimile of Beauchesne’s manual, there are other examples of handwriting manuals from Britain to explore. Let’s compare David Spence’s “The Penman’s Treasure” (1689) and Thomas Watson’s “Copy Book: Enriched with Great Variety of the most Usefull & Modish Hands” (printed 1707). Both of these handwriting manuals were created in Britain (Scotland and England, respectively) within decades of each other, and they have many thematic similarities.  

One thing that separates them is that “The Penman’s Treasure” is hand-written, while “Copy Book” is printed. David Spence takes the reader through a series of scripts via verses that are mostly religious in nature, though some are fun rhyming schemes. About half of the pages also include the alphabet in uppercase and lowercase letters of the script he used on that page. There are flourishes decorating every page, with spiraled figures, called pennetrekken, adorning them. Spence clearly indicates the purpose of the book as a learning tool with the following verse:  

Learne first the Alphabet of Letters which are small, 

And then proceed, and get the Letters Capitall”

Thomas Watson is explicit about the educational purpose of his copybook. Unlike handwritten exemplars, this book was printed, meaning Watson first wrote out the calligraphy before passing it to an engraver, who traced the work onto a sheet for mass reproduction. The title page identifies Watson as a teacher at a writing school, suggesting the book was likely intended for his students. On the final page, he reinforces his purpose with a witty epigram: 

We need not here set Owles and Apes,

Nor end our Book with rightfull Shapes,

Only to play an after Game.

Perhaps some may by viewing these, 

Turn back to what is past, and please

To try if they can do the same.”

This poem encapsulates the fundamental goal of handwriting manuals—not only to teach writing skills in the present but also to preserve an art form that was becoming less common. As print gained popularity, handwriting faced a decline, yet works like Watson’s reflect a concerted effort to ensure its survival. 

In Competition with Print  

The emergence of print in Western Europe in the 15th century following Gutenberg’s invention of the moveable printing press revolutionized the production of printed material, making it more efficient and more affordable. Although this technological advancement provided speed and uniformity, it could not replicate the artistry and individuality of hand-drawn letters.  

Here is an example of a printed Book of Hours from 1534, compared to the earlier illuminated ones. This version would have taken a fraction of the time to produce, and retained the uniformity favored by Gothic lettering. It even includes the perpetual calendar marked with dominical letters. Although this method limited some of the artistry of the decoration, elaborate borders and printed pictures were still included in these manuscripts. Mass production also made Books of Hours more accessible to the masses, since they took less time to produce, making them cheaper.

Calligraphers working after the rise and spread of print technologies adapted by refining their craft, focusing on decorative aspects and personal expression. This explains the rise in curious scripts like the one’s explored by Esther Inglis—calligraphers wanted to make something printers could not easily replicate.  

Calligraphers also attempted to emulate and perfect the mechanical precision of printed fonts. One way that calligraphers could show off, so to speak, was by creating miniature texts that a printing press would not have been able to create, while emulating the font of a printer. This 17th century miniature prayer book in Latin shows just how closely this print could be imitated.  

Informal Writing

While formal calligraphy and handwriting manuals aimed to perfect script, informal writing in the early modern period served a variety of practical and personal purposes. Beyond professional scribes and calligraphers, individuals used handwriting for everyday tasks, learning exercises, and personal expression. Special Collections has many manuscripts of non-professional writing that demonstrate the importance of even casual handwriting.  

This is a commonplace book from the 17th century contains notes on a variety of subjects, ranging from transcribed songs and theatrical performances to miscellaneous notes on astrology. Commonplace books were used by the literate to write down their thoughts or take notes on what they were seeing. At the beginning of this book, we can see that the first author first began practicing writing down their alphabet. It also includes some notes on grammar and spelling.  

Even with the option of printing, handwriting a manuscript was an expression of care and consideration—a labor of love, if you will. This copy of “The staggering state of the Scottish statesmen” is handwritten in neat, though not professional script. The book was published in print in 1754, after the author’s lifetime, but the author hand-wrote several copies “[as a] private solace to himself and a few friends for whom manuscript copies were made”.  

Later Preservation & Revival of Calligraphy 

Then, the nineteenth century saw a renewal of interest in calligraphy, driven by a growing appreciation of historical scripts and artistic skill. As industrialization made mass printing possible, handwriting fell further into disuse, and in reaction, scholars, artists, and collectors sought to preserve earlier handwriting traditions. This revival was not only about nostalgia, but also about studying and compiling past examples of scripts to ensure they were not lost.  

One example of this in Special Collections is “Specimens of calligraphic writing, 1570-1624″, a later compilation of early modern calligraphic examples. The examples, which we come from multiple authors and different texts from the later sixteenth century, showcase a later attempt to group and preserve these examples. “Later” used here because the exact date of compilation is unknown.  

This sometimes led to a kind of “scrapbooking” of medieval and early modern writing. Whole pages or specific drawings were cut out of manuscripts to be pasted into a compilation of one’s favorite pieces. As a result, some of the manuscripts we have now are incomplete. For example, this manuscript would have had colored drawings, as many of Inglis’ manuscripts did, but they have been specifically cut out.  On the right, you can see an example of a drawing that would have been at the top of each page. 

Not only was there an attempt to preserve these specimens of writing, but interest in the practice was revised, and many tried to replicate earlier scripts in their own hands. The results of this are 19th-century texts that look like they could have been written in the medieval or early modern periods, using scripts that had fallen out of popularity for centuries.  

What remains of handwriting? 

Handwriting has always been more than a tool for communication. It is both a discipline and an art form. As with every technological shift in history, from the rise of print to the mechanization of writing, we face a new question: what role does handwriting play in the digital age?  

While the decline of everyday handwriting may seem inevitable, the persistence of calligraphy as a practiced art suggests that we still value the human touch in written form. The same impulse that led 19th-century scholars to preserve early modern scripts or inspired individuals to handwrite books when print was an option can still be seen today in the renewed interest in calligraphy, bullet journaling, and artistic lettering. 

But beyond aesthetics, what does it mean for us to lose the habit of writing by hand? Does the convenience of digital text come at the cost of something intangible? A personal connection to writing, a slower, more deliberate engagement with words? As we move further into an era dominated by screens, perhaps the history of handwriting offers us not just a story of change but a challenge: to consider what is worth preserving and why. 

 

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