In this strange document we again find the word _formen_, and the _formen_ are specified first, as if they were the most valuable tools. As types are specifically described, it is plain that these _formen_ must have been matrices or moulds. Humery kept his word. The types and tools of Gutenberg remained with Nicholas Bechtermüntz until his death. They were then transferred to the custody or the possession of the Brothers of the Life-in-Common, who had a printing office at Marienthal, near Eltvill, as early as 1468. That this place was regarded as a part of Mentz may be inferred from the imprint they put on their first book, which is to this effect: Dated in our city of Mentz on the last day of August, 1468. Eltvill was the chosen residence of the archbishop, and under his jurisdiction, and might properly be considered as a dependency or a part of the city of Mentz. For some unknown reason these Brothers of the Life-in-Common made no use of the types of Gutenberg. In the year 1508, they were sold to Frederic Hauman of Nuremberg, who established a printing office in Mentz, and who used these types in many of his books.[284] The house that had been occupied by Hauman as a printing office was subsequently used for the same purpose by Albinus, a printer of [p444] the seventeenth century. The types of Gutenberg were in this house at the end of the sixteenth century, for Serarius, in his _History of Mentz_, says that he had seen them there.[285] Humery’s promise that, in the sale of the printing materials then contemplated, he would give preference to a citizen of Mentz, was obviously made at the request of the archbishop. It follows that the types of the dead printer were then regarded as relics of value of which the city should be proud. This request, which would not have been made without occasion, seems to confirm the conjecture that Gutenberg had previously sold the types, or at least the matrices, of the _Bible of 36 lines_ to Albert Pfister, of the monastic town of Bamberg. It is not probable that the deed of gift would have been clogged with this stipulation, if there had been no sale. This request of the archbishop is the only evidence we have that Gutenberg’s work was appreciated, but the appreciation came when he was dead. No contemporary writer noticed the _Bible of 42 lines_, and no one during his lifetime suitably honored Gutenberg as a great inventor. The archbishop, who knew the merit of the man, and pitied his misfortunes, had not a word to say in the document that made him a courtier of his services as an inventor or printer.