Among the great European printers of the late eighteenth century, William Bulmer (1757–1830) remains too often neglected. The names of Bodoni, the Didot family, and John Baskerville are invoked almost instinctively whenever the classical age of printing is discussed, yet Bulmer deserves to stand beside them. If Bodoni represented Parma and Didot embodied Paris, Bulmer may fairly be regarded as London’s answer to both.
At Woodbank Press, Bulmer occupies a place of particular importance. One of the most treasured volumes in our library is William Bulmer: The Fine Printer in Context 1757–1830 by Peter C. G. Isaac, based on the author’s distinguished Sandars Lectures delivered at Cambridge in 1984 and published in expanded form in 1994. It sits on a shelf we reach for with unusual frequency. At times we consult it to verify some historical detail; at others, to revisit Bulmer’s technical achievements. More often still, however, we return to it simply for inspiration.
For us, Bulmer is not merely a figure in printing history, nor simply a name associated with an admirable typeface. His work continues to illuminate questions central to every serious maker of books: what gives a page equilibrium; how margins ought to breathe; how richly ink should sit upon paper; and where typographic elegance ends and typographic vanity begins.
Bulmer was born in Newcastle in 1757 and began his career in provincial printing before moving to London, where his abilities soon attracted attention. He became associated with some of the most ambitious publishing ventures of his age, most notably the monumental Shakespeare edition sponsored by publisher and art patron John Boydell. The ambition behind this project extended beyond the publication of Shakespeare itself. It sought to demonstrate that English printing could rival the finest work produced anywhere in Europe.
From this ambition emerged the Shakespeare Press, established around 1790. It was far more than a commercial printing office. It became a workshop devoted to excellence in every material aspect of book production: type founding, paper selection, composition, presswork, impression, and page design. In many respects, the press anticipated ideals later embraced by the private press movement.
Bulmer worked at a pivotal moment in European printing. The closing decades of the eighteenth century witnessed the emergence of a new classical severity in letterforms. Bodoni and Didot introduced sharper serifs, stronger contrast, and more vertical structures, producing pages of remarkable brilliance and discipline. England, despite its distinguished typographic heritage, risked falling behind. Bulmer helped alter that course by demonstrating that English printing could unite technical precision with elegance and restraint.
His finest productions were admired not only for their typography but also for the brilliance of their impression, often achieved on superior Whatman wove paper, whose smooth surface allowed extraordinary sharpness and clarity. In Bulmer one can already discern the emergence of what we would now recognise as the modern collector’s book: a volume valued not solely for the text it carried, but for the quality of its making.
No discussion of Bulmer is complete without William Martin, the punchcutter whose work became inseparable from the printer’s typographic identity. Martin designed the typeface now known simply as Bulmer, widely regarded as one of the finest English transitional faces ever cut.
What makes this face remarkable is its balance. It preserves something of Baskerville’s warmth and readability while embracing the classical discipline of continental modern type. Contrast grows stronger, serifs become crisper, and forms more upright, yet the type never becomes sterile or mechanical. It retains softness, rhythm, and a distinctly English sense of moderation.
That restraint may be Bulmer’s greatest lesson. Beautiful books are seldom the result of excess. Ornament alone does not create harmony; proportion does. Typography begins long before type meets paper. It begins with the architecture of the page: with the relation between text block and margin, with the colour and surface of paper, with the density of ink, and with the quiet discipline of spacing.
Bulmer’s legacy did not end with metal type. His letterforms have enjoyed several important revivals, ensuring their continued relevance in modern typography. Among the best known is Monotype Bulmer, which preserves much of Martin’s original elegance while adapting the design for contemporary composition. ITC Bulmer introduced additional weights and proportions, broadening its usefulness in both book typography and display work.
One may also mention Warbler, designed by David Jonathan Ross. Though not a direct revival, Warbler draws deeply from the typographic world of late eighteenth-century England—from Baskerville, Martin, and the broader visual language surrounding the Shakespeare Press. Its delicate contrast and subtle warmth give the printed page a colour remarkably sympathetic to English typography of the period, making it one of the most compelling contemporary interpretations of this tradition.
At Woodbank Press, this connection is more than theoretical. When preparing our edition of Sir William Drummond’s A Review of the Governments of Sparta and Athens—a work originally printed by W. Bulmer and Company in 1794—we chose Warbler for the text. The decision was deliberate. We were drawn to the typeface precisely because it carries forward qualities we admire in Bulmer himself: classical poise, restraint, warmth, and deep readability.
This perhaps explains why Bulmer still matters. More than two centuries later, his books remain persuasive not because they are ornate, but because they are disciplined. In an age dominated by speed, screens, and visual overload, his work reminds us of a principle every good printer eventually learns.
In Bulmer’s work, one sees clearly that proportion comes first.