Quantcast
Channel: oz.Typewriter
Viewing all 1889 articles
Browse latest View live

One Afternoon in Ann Arbor

$
0
0
I was in Herman Price's office on Greenbag Road, Morgantown, West Virginia, when I got talking to another renowned typewriter collector, Mike Campbell (above, right, with Herman at his desk). Mike told me he came from Ann Arbor, Michigan, and I immediately remarked that that was where Jesse Owens had broken five world records and equalled another world record within 45 minutes on one afternoon, on May 25, 1935. I'm not sure if Mike knew that, but Richard Polt, who was within earshot, seemed surprised I could recite such details off the top of my head. Yet Jesse Owens' efforts in Ann Arbor were so astonishing that, once absorbed by a young track nut in 1959, they would remain forever deeply etched on his mind.
What Owens did in May 1935 was, put quite simply, the greatest single athletic achievement in the entire history of sports.
Jesse Owens surrounded by Olivetti portable typewriters in the Press Tribune of the Melbourne Cricket Ground during the 1956 Olympic Games - 20 years after he had won four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics.
The 80th anniversary of Owens' world record spree at the 1935 Big Ten Western Conference track and field meeting at Ferry Field, Ann Arbor, passed this week with barely a mention in the mainstream media. What media did mention the milestone got it wrong - Owens set five new world records that day, not three. Most also failed to factor in that the night before the meeting, Owens had fallen down a flight of stairs at the hotel at which his Ohio State University team was staying, and so severely injured his tailbone he couldn't bend to touch his toes. He had already been suffering from back pain for three weeks previously, and told Ohio coach Larry Snyder he might have to pull out of the Ann Arbor events. The sports world has been thanking its lucky stars ever since that he did compete.
The reason the mistake is made about the number of world records Owens set that day is because many Americans fail to understand that in setting new marks for the 220 yards and the 220 yards hurdles, under existing International Amateur Athletics Federation rules Owens also set world records for the 200 metres in both events. Two hundred metres is 218.72266 yards, therefore Owens' times over the slightly longer 220 yards were also recognised as 200 metres records.
One of the world records Owens set that day in 1935, of 26 feet 8 1/4 inches in the long jump, stood for more than 25 years, until beaten by Ralph Boston, from Laurel, Mississippi, at Walnut, California, on August 12, 1960.
In none of the tributes paid to Owens is it mentioned that in the 100 yards at Ann Arbor, all three stopwatches actually showed 9.3 seconds, which, if accepted by trackside officials, would have given Owens a sixth outright world record for the afternoon. However, the timekeepers said the clocks had stopped at just over 9.3 seconds, so Owens' time was rounded out to 9.4, rather than the 9.3 he ran. Thus he was officially credited with equalling the world record, which was first set by the "Glendale Greyhound", Frank Wykoff, in Los Angeles in 1932. With Owens denied the first 9.3 clocking, it was not for another 13 years, until 1948, that Mel Patton officially ran the first 9.3, in Fresno, California. And it wasn't until 1961 that someone - New Jersey's Frank Budd - ran 9.2, in New York.
At Ann Arbor on May 25, 1935, this was Owens' schedule:
3:15: Won the 100 yards from Robert Grieve in 9.4sec.
3:25: In his first and only jump of the day, he won the long jump from Willis Ward by a massive 19 inches, and added more than six inches to Chuhei Nambu's four-year-old world record.
3:34: Beat Andrew Dooley by 0.4sec in the 220 yards, clocking 20.3 and taking 0.3 seconds off the previous world record, set by Nebraskan Roland Locke in Lincoln in 1926. Owens also took 0.3 seconds off Ralph Metcalfe's 200 metres world record. set in Budapest in 1933.
4:00: Beat Phil Doherty by 0.6sec in winning the 220 yards low hurdles in 22.6sec. This took 0.4sec off the previous world records for the 220 yards and 200 metres hurdles, set by Iowan Charles Brookins in Ames in 1924 and equalled by Californian Norman Paul in Los Angeles 1933.
James Cleveland "Jesse" Owens was born in Danville, Alabama, on September 12, 1913, and grew up in Cleveland, Ohio. He stood 5ft 10in tall and in his track days weighed 156lbs.
Competing for the East Technical High School in Cleveland on June 11, 1932, an 18-year-old Jesse Owens ran the 100 metres in 10.3 seconds!
Owens died in Tuscon, Arizona, on March 31, 1980, aged 66. At the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games he won four gold medals: 100 meters, 200 meters, long jump and 4 x 100 metres relay (with Wykoff, Metcalfe and Foy Draper). 

Actresses and Typewriters

$
0
0
Director Monta Bell with his star Jeanne Eagels during the filming of Man, Woman and Sin in 1927.
Actress Arlene Judge in Hollywood, 1931.
Stage actress Leonora Bonda in The Churchmouse at the Playhouse Theatre in London in 1931.
Above, Jean Harlow (1911 - 1937) studies the novel Red Headed Woman in 1932. Below, Harlow works on her novel Today is Tonight between filming scenes for her new film 100% Pure (or The Girl from Missouri) in 1933.
The wedding of Ginger Rogers and Lew Ayres in 1934.
Italian actors Tino Scotti and Nyta Dover in the comedy film La Famiglia Passaguai in 1951.
Italian actor and director Vittorio De Sica and Franca Valeri in The Sign of Venus in 1955.
Italian actresses Nanda Primavera and Franca Valeri in Piccola Posta in 1955.
Above, Sophia Loren with fan mail in 1953. Below, Loren 10 years later.
Van Johnson and Elizabeth Taylor in The Last Time I Saw Paris in 1954.
German actress Ingmar Zeisberg in 1958.
 Italian actress and journalist Lianella Carell in  Rome in 1963.
Maria Luisa Garoppo in 1956.
English novelist and playwright Barry England with his wife, actress Diane Clare in 1968.
Family Ties starred, from left, Brooke Alderson, Meredith Baxter and Terry Wills in this 1983 episode.

The One That Got Away

$
0
0
If I ever buy one more typewriter, which is extremely unlikely given my present financial constraints, it will be an Underwood 5 standard in very good condition. And that will be the last typewriter I will probably ever buy. I got a bit excited some weeks back when Rowan Henderson, who curated my exhibition at the Canberra Museum and Gallery a few years ago, alerted me to some old government office equipment being auctioned online right here in Canberra. For one thing, winning a typewriter auction locally would have saved me a lot of worry, expense and hassle. Rohan, remembering that an Underwood 5 was the one remaining typewriter on my wish list, made particular mention of this item. So I went over to the auction house in Fyshwick and had a good close look at it. I thought it looked to be in reasonable condition. There were clear signs of rust, but it seemed worth bidding on if I could get it for the right price (though even then I'd be pushing the limits of my tight budget). The auction ended last night and the Underwood 5 went for a ridiculous $255, more than twice what I would have paid for it. The auction house also sold this super wide carriage Remington 12 and an L.C.Smith Super Speed with a 14-inch carriage.
The latter also went for a grossly over-inflated price, away above $100. Crazy! Yesterday I had a museum in Gippsland, Victoria, ask me what figure it should put on a Remington 7 for insurance purposes. They wanted to value it at $500!
Ah well, maybe another day for my Underwood 5 ... Meanwhile, my collection of "must keep" typewriters has come down to a much more manageable 53, of which 15 are Blickensderfers. But there's always room for just one more, one last "must have". I once owned more than 900 typewriters.

Classic Olivetti Portable Typewriters in Italian Racing Red

All Lies and Jest: A Lavender Nakajima Majitouch Mark IV Portable Typewriter

Converting an Olivetti Dora Portable Typewriter to a Valentine in Five Easy Steps (while ogling Brigitte Bardot)

$
0
0
This will only be of interest to anyone owning an Olivetti Valentine portable typewriter which has some significant mechanical problems and/or missing parts. It certainly assumes you already own a Valentine and are prepared to take it apart. Unless the need is felt to be truly great, I wouldn't bother with it at all. Indeed, it may even be considered in some quarters to be unwarranted recklessness, irresponsible or downright unethical (depending on what you plan to do with the converted Valentine). However, it's potentially an awful lot cheaper than buying another Valentine! Please also bear in mind the conversion is not just about fixing serious carriage wobble (that is, missing ball bearings) - if that alone is the concern, a simple replacement of just the carriage (Dora to Valentine) and nothing else might prove quicker and easier, especially in skilled hands. But this exercise is for the benefit of someone owning a Valentine with more extensive replacement and/or repair needs.
Just such a person is a 70-year-old former Czech soldier, Josef T of Wollongong, a man with an eye for beauty (it was Josef who found all these images of Brigitte Bardot with a Valentine). Apart from typewriter-related Bardot photos, Josef has a penchant for rare maps, air-cooled Volkswagens 1939-1978, Surrealism, and Marcel Duchamp.
Josef started writing to me at the end of April about his wish to add a Valentine to his typewriter collection. "Foolishly, I believe that if I make the Valentine my last love fling, I can promise myself to stop (or at least slow increasing) my collector's clutter already filling our house with old cameras and vintage Volkswagens and parts thereof," he wrote.
A short while later, Josef announced he had found a Valentine at a Cash Converters store, paying a not unreasonable (given the ridiculously high prices this model has been fetching for many years now) $229. As Josef observed, "For a red baby, this seems a bargain in this country."
Sadly, however, there appeared to be a major carriage ball bearing problem and an empty slot for the tab setting and clearing switch (perhaps it's already a converted Dora???).
Josef asked for advice on removing the mask. He also rightly remarked that "There are horror stories about removing the carriage and not being able to re-insert the ball bearings in the retainers, not to mention the drawband." Josef began to find there were many other shortcomings with his typewriter, including a sluggish typing action. "Normal access to the works from underneath, to wash and perhaps lightly oil, is denied by the design."
At this point I suggested to Josef that his best course of action was probably to buy an Olivetti Dora (or similar model) and completely replace the mechanics of his Valentine. Anyone contemplating this same undertaking should bear in the mind that the Olivetti Dora is also known as the Olivetti Lettera 31, Ventura, Italia '90 and Class, the Underwood 310 and 315, the Montgomery Ward Escort 33, and the Mercedes and Mercedes Super T (probably among many other labels). As well, generally the Dora and its myriad of variations can be found for far lower prices than a Valentine, so financially a conversation such as this can be a quite viable option.
My advice to Josef only seemed to produce further headaches for him. "I am still trying to tinker the Valentine to perfection," he wrote. So I decided to demonstrate the conversion technique. To do so, however, I needed a Dora (or like machine) and there are none left in my dwindling collection. In desperation, I contacted Canberra's only other Typospherian, Jasper Lindell, in the slim hope he might own such a thing. Jasper came straight back saying he not only owned a red Dora, but would be happy to bring it over and allow me to take it apart so I could illustrate this project.
So here is a pictorial essay of the conversion:
Jasper's red Olivetti Dora above, and one of my remaining Valentines below. Some of the more obvious outward differences (mask aside) are the black/red carriage-end covers and the design of the paper plate. The Valentine, below, also has a button on the left side carriage knob to free roll the platen, as well as a red right-side tab key and a left-side tab setting and clearing switch, all of which this Dora lacks (it has an empty slot for the left-side switch). Such Dora variations as the Underwood 315, the Ventura, the Mercedes Super T and the Olivetti Class have the red tab key and the tab setting-clearing switch, if you feel these things are essential, but most lack the button on the left side knob. Free rolling the platen is achieved on all machines by setting the line spacer switch to "0". Both of the typewriters illustrated here have the "return indent" key at the top left of the keyboard, but the keyboard configurations differ.
Below, unmasked - practically the same machine, but very different prices:
The most significant differences seen in these two images are the tabulation mechanism (left on top photo) and tab setting-clearing switch mechanism (right on top photo).
1. Remove the mask from the Valentine. Start with the front piece protecting the spacebar while the machine is in its case (using long-nosed pillars to undo the nuts), then unscrew the main section, slipping it off gently by placing the typewriter on its back section (case handle flat) and holding down the top bank of keys.
 The front piece is held on to its metal arms by nuts which attach here.
Below, the back section (top of case) is held on to the typewriter by two nuts (each side) and two screws (centre), each covered by small, very brittle caps. Take great care when removing the caps, as they can split or break easily if not manoeuvred off gently.
2. Below, this is how the side nuts attach. The threaded metal pieces on to which the nuts wind represent the ONLY significant difference between the back plate of the Valentine's innards and of those of the Dora.
The two images below show the threaded metal piece on the Valentine (top) and the nut on the Dora. There are two ways of going about this part of the conversion - one is to replace the entire back plate from the Valentine's innards, the other is to deal with just a replacement of this piece from one machine to the other.
Below, I am using toothpicks here to illustrate how the Valentine's back section would screw on to the Dora. The second image shows the screw holes on the Valentine.
Below, the Valentine on top, the circles showing the differences between the two (the tabulation rack on the Valentine can also be clearly seen):
3. Below, the metal arms for the front guard bar screw on to the Valentine's innards here. Happily, the Dora's innards have the screw holes already available to attach the front guard arms to them:
(Oops: Sorry, my right side circle is one slot too far to the left!)
4. If you plan to use the Dora's mechanics with a Valentine mask, naturally you will have to remove the bottom metal plate from the Dora innards:
5. Replacing the carriage end covers and the paper plate should also be straightforward. Happily, on most 60s Olivettis, this process is simple, if time consuming. Screw off the platen knobs, unscrew the end covers, remove the platen, then transfer the paper plate and end covers from one machine to the other:

Reassembling an Olivetti Valentine Portable Typewriter

$
0
0
An alert this morning from the ever-vigilant Piotr Trumpiel in London (thank the typewriter gods someone is watching over me) led me back to my Olivetti Valentine-Dora conversion project. This in turn meant a hurried reassembly of both machines and I thought I might as well photograph that process too. Reassembling a Dora involves no more than four screws and the bottom cover plate, which is of course mere child's play. However, reassembling the Valentine can be a bit more of a challenge, so for the benefit of anyone facing this task, here are the steps. For taking the Valentine apart in the first place, just reverse this order (except the spacebar guard comes off before the main part of the mask):
1. Tackle the main section of the mask first - it won't go back on if the spacebar guard has already been reattached. Gently press down on all the keytops on the top bank of the keyboard so that the typebars hold together in a bunch at the printing point. Make sure the ribbon vibrator is raised to its highest point so you can press the ribbon colour selector switch to its lowest setting. Use some means of ensuring the margin release/paragraph indentation key and the tab set and clear switch both stay depressed (I tied them down with a cotton bud, but a rubber band or Cellotape or some such thing will also do the trick).  
 2. With this top row of keytops and switches all down, the main part of the mask slips back on very easily. Make sure it lines up properly on each side and at the back.
 3. Screw this main part of the mask back on to the mechanics. Do not fully tighten the first screw until all four screws are reattached. First screw in one corner (say, bottom right), then the opposite corner (top left), so that the other two screw holes will be lined up without the need to check. Because of Olivetti's peculiar type of screw holes, it is vital the mask is properly lined up all round. I used a small torch to see that I was on the right spot for the first screw, and a toothpick to ensure this was indeed the case.  
 4. Next reattach the spacebar guard. I had the advantage here of a special typewriter tool specifically designed for such a job. The tool came in handy in this tight spot, where there wasn't enough room to use long-nosed pillars and tighten the small nut properly. The nut slots into the tool head and allows you to easily get it back on, straight and firm.
 5. Finally, reattach the back section, which is the top part of the Valentine's case. Screw in the centre two screws first, to ensure the section is straight and flush. Cover with the screw caps.
For the nuts on each end of this section, I could have used one of the same sort of typewriter tools as I had used for the front bar. But here there was plenty of room for me to use long-nosed pillars to get a nice tight grip. 
All finished. It should take no longer than about 5-10 minutes to get it done.
Here are a few of the typewriter tools used for unwinding or reattaching nuts in tight spaces. If anyone wants one, please let me know. They are free to a good home, but you pay for the postage. Some obviously differ to cover a range of nut sizes.
 Jasper's Dora took no more than a minute to reassemble:

Hillary's Typist Mum

$
0
0
Hillary Clinton made much of her mother's early-life struggles when she launched her US presidential campaign in earnest at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park on Roosevelt Island on the East River in Manhattan on Saturday.
The setting for the launch was almost appropriate, since it was quite close to where the Hammond Typewriter Company factory once stood.
 Dorothy Emma Howell in 1940
Dorothy in the 1940 US census for Cook County, Illinois
What wasn't mentioned in Clinton's speech was that Dorothy Emma Howell Rodham (1919-2011) was actually a typist. It was Dorothy's only proper, paid job before she became a homemaker. She was working as a typist-stenographer with the Columbia Lace Company in Chicago when she met Hillary's father, travelling salesman Hugh Ellsworth Rodham, in 1937.
A young Dorothy Howell
After graduating from Alhambra High School in Los Angeles County, California, Dorothy moved to Chicago. She and Hugh Rodham married in early 1942. Hillary was born in October 1947.
Dorothy's senior class photo, Alhambra, summer 1937
Below, typewriters at Alhambra High School, 1937:

George Lait, Highly Decorated Shock-Troop of the Press - and his Royal Portable Typewriter

$
0
0
George Lait covers the Pacific Theatre of World War II on his Royal portable typewriter for the International News Service. This photograph was taken in New Guinea on March 29, 1944.
Although George Lait's grand-daughter Vicki Hughes Orman might feel so, it's not me being lambasted. It's the blazing headline in Australian Truth on November 29, 1942, atop a George Lait story:
Reader Vicki Orman has just caught up with my late January post Shock-Troops of the Press - and their Typewriters and left a comment: "I applaud you for the credit you give these men who put their life in harm's way to get a story. However, my grandfather, George Lait, Independent News Service, was perhaps the most highly decorated war correspondent: Bronze Star with Combat V, Purple Hearts with Four Oak Leaf Clusters, National Defence Service Medal, Pacific Theatre Campaign Medal with four Bronze Stars, European-Middle East Campaign with three Bronze Stars, American Campaign Medal, World War ll Victory Medal, Philippine Defence Medal, Philippine Liberation Medal, Philippine Independence Medal, Basic Paratrooper Badge, Combat Infantry Badge. British Decorations: 1939-45 Star, Star of Africa, War Medal 1939-45.
"Impressive, isn't it? And I can't understand why he is never mentioned. I have an article that Ernie Pyle wrote about how he felt honoured to be seated next to George. Maybe you can shed some light on to this subject, because I feel he, George, my grandfather, should be mentioned in every article in which WWII war correspondents are credited."
Well, Vicki, I can shed this bit of light on your grandfather, from Combat Reporter: Don Whitehead's World War II Diary and Memoirs (2006), edited by John Beals Romeiser:
George Lait's passport application photo for his first trip overseas, 
to Europe in 1924, aged 17.
George Kersten Lait was born to Jacquin Leonard Lait and Laura Belle Leusch in Chicago on November 29, 1906; he died of lung cancer in North Hollywood on January 12, 1958, aged just 51. 
Below, from The Longest Night: Voices from the London Blitzby Gavin Mortimer (2005):
George Lait, second from right, New Guinea, May 1944
George in British military uniform in North Africa
George working with his father Jack Lait.
George's father, Jack Lait (1883-1954) was a journalist best known for his series of "Confidential" books. Born in New York City, he became renowned during his 50-year career in journalism as one of the leading newspapermen of the first half of the 20th century. He wrote a syndicated column called All in the Family for two decades, and his comic strip, Gus and Gussie, illustrated by Paul Fung, ran from April 13, 1925, to February 24, 1930. He was the editor of the New York Daily Mirror and Sunday Mirror, and ended his career working for the Hearst Corporation. During his tenure as editor, the New York Daily Mirror gained the second highest circulation of any US newspaper. With Lee Mortimer, Lait wrote New York Confidential, Chicago Confidential and Washington Confidential. Lait and Mortimer's books inspired the films New York Confidential (1955) and Chicago Confidential (1957) and the television series New York Confidential. Lait died of a circulatory ailment in Beverly Hills, California, at the age of 71.
Jack Lait interviews Anna Hauptmann during a radio appeal to Anna's husband Bruno Hauptmann, accused of kidnapping and killing Charles Lindbergh's baby son. Below, Jack and an insert from his Gus and Gussie comic strip.

On This Day in Typewriter History: Freewheelin' Platens - In Praise of the Humble Platen Clutch

$
0
0
Don'tcha just love looking at a typewriter patent drawing
and then seeing how it came to fruition, exactly as envisaged and sketched?
Above, Arthur Bott Pateman (1886-1972) for the Imperial 50 in 1925.
German-born William Ferdinand Helmond (1871-) for the Underwood 5; this was a culmination of 19 years of development by the company on the variable knob and platen clutch:
Carl Gabrielson for L.C. Smith
 Arthur Briggs for Remington
Lewis Cary Myers for the Royal 10
Willie Dobson for Underwood
Terashima Toshikatu for Nakajima ALL
This is my 2000th post (or thereabouts, give or take one) in more than four years of the ozTypewriter blog. It coincides with 1.8 million page views, 150 followers and more than 7500 comments. To mark the occasion (or thereabouts, give or take a day or two), I thought I'd post once more on the subject of "On This Day in Typewriter History". The more so because I received a comment this week from old friend Peter Baker (oh no, "notagain"), who was a loyal follower of the series, since it often used to give him visions of a Fallow Fields Typewriter Manufacturing Company. Ah, such sweet memories! The attempt to cover the full 365 days in "On This Day" died a natural death (through an understandable lack of interest) in April last year, after I'd gotten seven-tenths of the way toward completion. But since the series accounts for 13 per cent of all my posts, I figured I'd give it one last shot.
Fooling around with Olivetti portables on the weekend brought variable knobs and  freewheelin' platens back to mind. I can't recall whether the presence of a platen clutch and the ability to temporarily free platens from their ratchet wheels came up on Richard Polt's detailed survey on essential features for the perfect typewriter; perhaps it was just assumed to be a given. But of course that wasn't always the case.
In all my years of using typewriters, I only ever recall being impressed by a different kind of font twice, first when I used my late sister-in-law's Imperial 65 standard in 1959 (I loved those long descenders on the 3, 5, 7 and 9), the other time in 1968, when I bought an Olivetti Studio 44 with a transiently cool sans serif extended typeface. The rest of the time one typewriter font has been pretty much the same as another, as far as I'm concerned. A lifetime spent working with both typewriters and typography has a tendancy to sort out the priorities. Young Singaporean ladies who buy typewriters for their fonts are happily far from being on the same wavelength as me. I rarely if ever used tabulation, or the red on bichrome ribbons, or a repeat spacer. I still have no idea about touch control - it's all still thud, thud, thud to me. But freewheelin' platens - now there's a thing! A platen clutch is an entirely different matter. This facility is one "modification" to a basic typewriter that, as a journalist, I had cause to use many, many times. And bless it for ever being invented and added to the typewriter.
Inconsequential you say? Not for me it isn't. And, a century ago, none of the leading United States typewriter manufacturers thought so either. They set some of their finest mechanical engineering minds to the task of perfecting the platen clutch: Richard William Uhlig, Helmond and Dobson at Underwood, Myers at Royal, Smith and George Gould Going at Remington, Gabrielson at L.C. Smith ...
THOMAS WHALEY
Actually, this quest had started long before 1915, 30 years earlier to be precise. Just as, between 1873 and 1893, typewriter engineers strove to find a way for typists to see what they were writing, so too did they consider freewheelin' platens a vital necessity missing from the original typewriter.
Thomas Whaley
Parisian Emile Grosbois adapted Thomas Whaley's design for Wyckoff, Seamans and Benedict. This can be seen on the Remington 2, above.

Thomas Whaley's 1885 device could presumably have been applied to both the Remington 2 and the Caligraph (which, keyboard aside, was built on very similar lines), although it appears here to have been applied only to the Remington, enabling the platen to be turned back down.
The first attempt came in 1885, from a Thomas Whaley, a persistent if mysterious Colorado inventor, who so rightly wrote in his patent specifications: "in type-writing machines ... a roller or paper-carrier, in connection with a ratchet-wheel operated upon by a lever and pawl, is so constructed and worked as to revolve the roller and carry the paper in one direction, so that where a line is printed and the roller moved, the roller and paper cannot then be reversed and turned back, the line re-written or corrected, without removing the paper from the roller, except the paper be drawn back with the hand, which is not done with accuracy and speed. The object of my improvement is to provide a means by which said roller may, by the same lever, be moved forward or reversed, and thereby the paper be carried in either direction at the will of the operator on the said machines, and thereby facilitate the correcting of errors and provide a speedy method or means of interlineation."
MERRITT, WALLACE, UHLIG
A young Casper D.Wallace. Imprisoned by the Confederate Army in the American Civil War, he later worked for James Densmore in Pennsylvania. After Densmore's death in 1889, Wallace became works superintendent for the American Writing Machine and Yost Writing Machine companies in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and on the eve of World War I supervised the construction of US submarines. He was still alive well into his 90s, in the late 1930s.
Three men heavily involved in turn-of-the-century developments of the typewriter - Henry White Merritt (1858-) for Densmore, Union Army veteran and prisoner of war Casper D. Wallace (1844-) for Yost and Richard William Uhlig (1860-1937) for Underwood - made significant advances with the platen clutch between 1897 and 1909. Merritt had been working for the Smith brothers when they joined the Union Trust and he and Walter Jay Barron patented substantial improvements to the Densmore on behalf of the trust. 
Merritt
 Wallace
Uhlig
Bridgeport Herald, December 4, 1898
UNDERWOOD
Uhlig moved on to his own typewriter projects while at Underwood his work was continued by William Ruger Jr (1876-) of Wisconsin, Edward Burns and George W.Horton, and by Frank C. Ursbruck (1860-), all with designs which Helmond later improved upon:
Ruger
Burns and Horton
Ursbruck
LOCKWOOD 1915
What led to this ramblin' rant on freewheelin' platens is that on this day 100 years agoMarquis Hartwell Lockwood (1870-1938) took his work on the platen clutch for Underwood, started in 1912, still further:
1914
1915

It's a Small Typing World

$
0
0
The house at 4694 Winton Road, Cincinnati, where 1914 world accuracy typing champion Dorothy Ellen Liebtag Twiggs lived from 1935 until her husband died in August 1949. Dorothy then moved with her son to Pasadena, California, and died there in 1959.
It's a small world for typewriters all right, sometimes spookily so. Little did they know it at the time, but when a group of leading Typospherians competed in a speed typing contest at the Cincinnati home of Richard Polt on this day five years ago, they were just 25 doors away from where the one-time world accuracy typing champion had lived until 1949.
Richard Polt, left foreground, uses a Royal KMM to win the 2010 Midwest Typefest typing contest at his home in Cincinnati. Beside him is Jack Knarr typing one-fingered on an Underwood No 5. Jack achieved 308 words with almost no errors in 10 minutes. At the top of the table is Marty Rice, and standing beside him Jett Morton
The June 19, 2010, event was held during the Midwest Typefest at Richard's house in Cincinnati, Ohio. Using a Royal KMM standard typewriter, Richard won the 10-minute test, in which James Nelson Kimball's "Veritas" text from the 1926 world championships was typed. Richard achieved a speed of 73 words a minute.
The previous "Cincinnati world typing record" was 71 words a minute (for 15 minutes) set by Richard's former near-neighbour Dorothy Ellen Liebtag Twiggs in 1914. Some reports said Dorothy typed error-free at 72 words a minute.
From The Business Educator, 1914
Above, where Dorothy grew up as  young girl in Cincinnati.
Below, where she lived after she married Brady Irvin Twiggs.
In June 1914, in the face of mounting speed typing competition from Underwood,  the Remington Typewriter Company came up with an "Accuracy-First" promotion with twice-yearly competitions to "raise the efficiency of the whole body of typists in the United States". The tests had an "error-proof ideal", encouraging contestants to avail of opportunities to earn "better compensation for their work". In other words, who wants to pay good money for speed typists when accuracy is what's really required? So forget speed typing, let's slow down and concentrate on mistake-free typescripts. The copy used was "designed to imitate matter which might be met in the ordinary day's work" - that is, not the sort of stuff Kimball wrote for Underwood and Richard Polt was 84 years later to describe as "eminently forgettable" (and rightly so).
The first winner of these contests was Dorothy Ellen Liebtag, who was born in Cincinnati on April 15, 1894, the eldest daughter of iron foundry moulder William Liebtag (1874-1915) and his Welsh-born wife Margaret ('Maggie') Morgan Liebtag (1876-). Dorothy won a new Remington 10 standard typewriter for her effort.
 
Unfortunately, Dorothy held on to this world record for only six months. The next winner was another stenographer, Myrtle Hagar (1890-), of Nashville, Tennessee, with 74 words a minute, faster even than Richard Polt typed in 2010!
Dorothy married bookkeeper Brady Irvin Twiggs (1893-1949) in 1918, soon after Twiggs returned from seeing action on the Western Front in World War I, but she continued to work as a secretary at the Miller School. The couple moved from her widowed mother's home on Gilbert Avenue to Kemper Avenue and then rented the house on Winton Road from 1935. After her husband's death in August 1949 Dorothy moved with her son, Brady Irvin Twiggs Jr, to Pasadena, California, where she died on November 22, 1959, aged 65.
Dorothy June Tripp, born in 1921, died in 1995; Ellen Ruth Herrmann, born in 1925, died in Naples, Florida, in 2005; Brady Irvin Twiggs Jr, born on Boxing Day 1932, was living in Austin, Texas, in 1995.
Brady Jr as a drum major at Hughes High School, Cincinnati, in 1949
Below, from Typewriter Topics, 1915:

Les machines à écrire Remington du Québec

$
0
0
On June 26, 1915, the Remington Typewriter Company's Montreal agent, Napoléon Martineau (1862-), was officially "crowned" in New York City as the world's leading typewriter salesman. Martineau can be seen above standing at the back of his prize, an Overland "Remington car", while event organiser and sponsor Elwood Ernest Rice looks on. 
Martineau is circled in The Evening World advertisement below:
Remington sales in Québec stayed in the hands of the Martineau family for at least two more generations after Napoléon. His son Gérald Martineau (1902-1968) took on the franchise in 1919 and retained it after Rand bought into the company in 1935. Then Napoléon's grandson Robert Martineau (1926-) acquired the rights when Gérald was appointed to Legislative Council of Québec, the unelected upper house, in August 1946.
Gérald and Robert also, incidentally, owned and ran the Québec Aces ice hockey team from 1959 until 1967, when it was taken over by the Philadelphia Flyers. The club became the Richmond Robins in 1971.
Gérald Martineau
A former treasurer of the Union Nationale PartyGérald represented  the Laurentian division in the Québec Upper House until 1959 and the Lauzon division to 1967. He died the next year, aged 65, after being found guilty in 1966 of 13 influence-peddling charges, serving a 50-day sentence under guard in hospital and paying a $49,000 fine.
In 1961 the Remington-Rand business dealings of Gérald and Robert were investigated as part of the Québec Royal Commission into Union Nationale Government purchases between 1955-60. Union Nationale was a conservative and nationalist provincial political party which identified with Québécois autonomism. It was created during the Great Depression and held power in Québec from 1936-39, 1944-60 and 1966-70. It was founded by Maurice Duplessis, who led it until his death in 1959.
Gérald's misfortunes were a far cry from the day when his father Napoléon was given one of the cars seen above, and declared the world's best typewriter salesman. Typewriter Topics reported:
Elwood Ernest Rice (1979-1958)
Rice is seen sitting beside Henry Ford (at wheel)
Elwood Ernest Rice was president of the Rice Electric Display Company and the R. R. Sign Company (the other "R" in R.R. being V.R. Rumbarger). Rice was born in Dayton, Ohio, on October 11, 1879. He started out in the plaster business, selling Rice’s Diamond Wall Plaster before making his fortune in the electric sign business. He died in obscurity on March 6, 1958.

How Typewriters Helped Change the World Economy

$
0
0
It's almost exactly 100 years since the United States became the world's leading exporter for the first time in its history. That was at the end of the fiscal year 1914-15, on June 30, 1915. The US held its lead for 97 years, until 2012, when it was overtaken by China, which went on to oust the US as the world’s largest trading nation (as measured by the sum of exports and imports) last year*.
Back in 1915 it was Britain which the US surpassed - and of course that was as a direct consequence of the outbreak of World War I a month into the 1914-15 fiscal year, on July 28, 1914. The war increased the US's export trade by 17 per cent, to $2768.6 million. This was $600 million higher than British export trade, which had decreased by 30 per cent.
The US had previously, though infrequently, headed Britain in exporting domestic product, but not for combined domestic and foreign goods. Still, US domestic exports rose to $2716.2 million from $2329.7 million, which was 98.1 per cent of total exports (export of foreign-made goods went up from $52.4 million from $34.9 million). Combined British figures had included Irish and "colonial" (that is, Australian, New Zealand, Canadian, South African and Indian) goods. Typewriter Topics reported:
For the US, the most marked rise was in manufactured goods, excluding foodstuffs. These increased from $8 million in 1821 to $1166 million in 1915. And typewriters were at the forefront of this boom in manufactured exports. From the start of World War I to June 1915, the monthly export of US-made typewriters increased sixfold. As at June 1915, all US typewriter makers were still in typewriter production mode (11 new manufacturers had emerged in the previous 12 months) and the internal typewriter business was also prospering.
Typewriter Topics' European editor Gustave Hemes wrote:
A month earlier, Topics reported that typewriter exports had passed the $500,000 mark:
And in April:
One US typewriter company which performed particularly well during this period was Underwood.
*China's figures are bolstered by its assembly of iPhones for Apple, of which it exports about $5 billion worth to the US. But iPhones are made up of components from all over the world, including Japan and South Korea, and are American designed and branded. The Chinese Academy of Social Sciences estimates China makes about $57 out of every $100 worth of iPhones exported. For every $100 worth of goods exported by China, the domestic component, or Chinese value added part, is only $67, according to OECD data. So in the year China became the largest exporter in the world, the country exported $1.4 trillion of goods with the Chinese value added share a shade more than $800 billion. American exporters remain at the top end of the supply chain and their export businesses are a lot more profitable than their Chinese competitors. China really overtook the US in 2012 - by a small margin of $9.1 billion. In 2013, China’s exports were $88 billion larger than the US but the volume was only 40 per cent larger than the US.

Death of a War Correspondent: His Typewriter and his Last Story

$
0
0
Along with Margaret Bourke White's grotesque image of a Triumph standard typewriter in the rubble of a bombed out Leipzig in May 1945, this is probably one of the most dramatic typewriter photographs ever taken.
Roydon Keith Parker (1906-1943)
It shows what remains of the Remington portable typewriter which belonged to New Zealand-born Australian war correspondent Roydon Keith Palmer, who was killed during a Japanese air raid on a Bougainville beachhead in the Solomon Islands. Palmer was outside the US Marine Corps Press hut when a 500lb bomb fell within 10 yards of it. It blew a hole 12 feet deep by 30 feet wide. A piece of shell struck Palmer in the forehead and he died instantly.
AP's Rembert James at his own Remington portable typewriter
Parker's shattered Remington was found beside his body - along with a seven-page draft of his last story - by Associated Press war correspondent Rembert Faulkner James, who took the typed copy to United Press's George Edward Jones (1916-1994) to get it ready for filing.
Palmer, who was covering the Pacific Theatre of World War II for the US magazine Newsweek and the Australian newspaper the Melbourne Herald, died at 2.30 on the morning of Sunday, November 7, 1943. He had just turned 37.
Here is the last story Palmer wrote on his Remington:

Palmer's death was widely covered in US newspapers at the time, largely because he was just 10 feet away from AP's Rembert Faulkner James (born October 14, 1905, Waxahachie, Texas; died January 10, 1985, La Jolla, California), who was seriously wounded in the same air raid and who wrote about the bombing in great detail.
James wrote that it was Palmer's "own amazing curiosity" which led to his death, hence this US newspaper headline:
Ted C.Link
James wrote that the last man to see Palmer alive was the great St Louis Post-Dispatch crime reporter Theodore Carl Link (1904-1974), who was in Bougainville as a technical sergeant, the Marine Corps' combat correspondent and editor of Chevron. TIME magazine once said Link had "probably written more about crime than any other US newsman". Link was a grandson of the famous German-born architect of the same name. Link told James:
According to James, the first man to reach Palmer was Marine Corps Third Division press relations officer Captain Patrick Francis O'Sheel, who, like James and Link, had also been injured in the heavy shelling.
Patrick O'Sheel in 1961
O'Sheel, born in Washington DC on October 31, 1914, was a graduate of Dartmouth College and served as a Marine Corps press officer and combat correspondent during World War II.  Immediately after the war he was in the US Diplomatic Corps in Africa and the Middle East, then wrote for The New Yorker and worked in London for LIFE magazine as associate editor and bureau chief. He was later a CIA agent in Europe. He died on July 23, 1994, in Chevy Chase, Maryland.
It was O'Sheel who saw to Palmer's burial. James ended his story with these touching lines:
Less than three months after his death, the US Navy named a Liberty ship in Palmer's honour. The SS Keith Palmer was launched at the Todd Shipyard in Houston, Texas, in late February 1944. A message from Palmer's widow was read at the launching. The ship was sponsored by the wife of Newsweek's foreign editor Harry Kern.
Roydon Keith Palmer was born in October 1906 in Foxhill, in the Waimea South district of the Nelson province in New Zealand. His story is close to my heart, since my paternal grandmother was also born there, at Belgrove, along with one of my aunts and three uncles, and my grandparents married in Wakefield. Also born close by was Ernest Rutherford, the man who split the atom.
Like some of my great-uncles, Palmer attended Nelson College. He then went on to Canterbury University in Christchurch, but elected to pursue a career in journalism. He joined the Christchurch Sun in 1927 and later moved to The Press. In 1933 he married Mary Edith McKee (born Shankill, County Antrim, Northern Ireland, December 1908) and three years later the couple settled in Australia. Palmer became an aviation writer with the Melbourne Herald, having developed a passion for flying after befriending Australian aviation pioneer Charles Kingsford Smith in New Zealand, before Kingsford Smith's untimely death in November 1935. Palmer was the first journalist to fly around Australia.
In 1937 Palmer (seen here talking the fellow journalists on the ground) flew back to New Zealand in a de Havilland DH86 Express passenger transport biplane. This photo was taken in Wellington.
In August 1940 Palmer covered for a range of Herald group newspapers across the country the inaugural flight of the Pan-American-TEAL (Tasman Empire Airways Ltd) Boeing 314 Clipper NC18602, the California Clipper. He was one of the first two Australians to fly the Pacific route from Sydney to Auckland and on to San Francisco.
Pan-Am's California Clipper and beside it TEAL's Aotearoa at Auckland International Airport at Mechanics Bay in 1940. I kid you not. That was what it was called.
At the outbreak of the Pacific War, Palmer, who was general vice-president of the Australian Journalists' Association, was embedded with the Royal Australian Navy, representing the Australian Press Association. After a spell back on dry land, as magazine editor of the Melbourne Herald, he was asked to replace AAP's special correspondent, Winston Turner, a veteran of the Boer War and First World War, as South Pacific war correspondent. Turner was in Java when the Japanese advanced south, but was able to escape back to Australia on a small ship.
Days before his death, Palmer filed this story:
Palmer's wife and two young sons returned to New Zealand from Melbourne soon after his death. Mary Palmer lived out the rest of her life in Christchurch. I believe she may have died in 2009, having reached the age of 100. One of her sons, David Maxwell Palmer, became a Christchurch solicitor.

Typewriter Erotica, 1929 Women's Tennis and a Murder Mystery: Fishy Stuff!?

$
0
0
The delectable (as delectable as any detective gets) doe-eyed Essie Davis as "The Honourable" Miss Phryne Fisher in the Australian TV series Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. Miss Fisher is a sort of sexy, shapely Miss Marple - only this foxy lady has far sillier, less plausible plot lines to follow. It's all part of the fun. The producers don't care too much about props matching the period, and she has been seen with a post-war Rheinmetall portable typewriter (maybe it's the same prop from the Dr Blake series?). Better still, she and her "Will they? Won't they?" love interest, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson (Nathan Page), can decipher typewriter ribbon!!! Now that's clever - for 1929.
Her trademark snub-nosed gold-plated, pearl-handled Smith & Weston Model 36 .38 "Police Chief's Special" pistol is also a 1950 model, she flies a 1932 DH82 Tiger Moth and makes Trans-Pacific phone calls (possible from 1956). But, hey, who cares when one is looking at Essie? No old knitted cardies for Miss Fisher!
The producers of an Australian murder mystery television series went looking for appropriate period images to help illustrate a story about a sleazy photographer blackmailing women tennis players in Melbourne in 1929. What did they find? Paul Robert's Virtual Typewriter Museum webpage publicising his fascinating 2003 book Sexy Legs and Typewriters: Women in Office-Related Advertising, Humor, Glamour and Erotica.
Yes, the bare naked tennis ladies weren't swinging racquets, they were pecking at typewriter keys. Maybe typing up their tennis reports? There wasn't even a pair of Gorgeous Gussie Moran's frilly knickers to be seen anywhere. Mind you, the gorgeous star of this series, Tasmanian Essie Davis, did get down to her non-tennis knickers for the benefit of the unsavoury lensman, which I suppose was some sort of compensation:
By chance I just happened to catch the latest episode of series three of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, "Game Set & Murder", on ABC TV last Friday night.
Imagine my surprise when well-known 1920s typewriter erotica images from Paul's book (and virtual typewriter museum) started popping up on my screen. Of course, Paul is not credited with unearthing these photos in the first place, which I guess is the way of the Web these days. All one has to do is key in "1920s erotica" on Google and, hey presto, up pops Paul's page:
The sight of so many typewriter photos was unexpected, given the ABC had promoted this episode thusly: "Our glamorous lady detective, The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher, swans into early 1929 Melbourne, fighting injustice with her pearl-handled pistol and her dagger-sharp wit. Phryne hosts a tennis tournament to raise money for female tennis players, where the practice partner of a rising star dies; A murder investigation reveals Phryne's hidden fear."
Fletcher Humphrys as the blackmailing snapper
Notwithstanding Miss Fisher's use of a post-war Reinmetall portable typewriter, the ABC describes this series as a "meticulously constructed world" which "follows the independent, glamorous and unflappable leading lady detective ... This lush take on the traditional crime drama explores the fascinating and varied sub cultures of 1920s 'between-the-wars' Melbourne. From the shadowy lanes of the city to the halls of academia, from high-class brothels to haute couture, she defends the innocent and juggles admirers with her usual panache, all the while keeping up her delicious dance around Detective Inspector Jack Robinson (Nathan Page)." I suspect whoever wrote that is a bit of a lush themselves.
The series is based on the work of Kerry Greenwood.
Deborah Kennedy plays Regina Charlesworth in a 2012 episode,  "Away with the Fairies", as the editor of Women's Choice magazine.

Jump in my Car

$
0
0
Sorry, I missed World Typewriter Day because I went for a jaunt in the country:
But I was reminded of this by the first part of Blood and Thunder on ABC TV tonight:

Typewriter Gems For Sale

$
0
0
Martin Howard, of Toronto, Canada, one of the world's leading typewriter collectors (Antique Typewriters), has some rare gems for sale on eBay (see typewritercollector):
Columbia 2, c1886
 Hammond 2, c1893
 Blickensderfer 7 with 14-inch carriage
 Helios, 1908
 Densmore 4
 Hammond Folding Multiplex, c1921
Standard Folding, c1910
Also, Hoby Van Deusen, of Connecticut, one of the world's leading collectors of typewriter ribbon tins and other typewriter-related ephemera, will be listing a large number of items on eBay later today (see nanvan1). Here are some of the Australian ribbon tins and packets:
One of the items to be listed, I believe, is an Oliver girl mirror

Matildas Triumph

$
0
0
There's not an awful lot to feel good about in Australia right now. Indeed, in the political arena, we are being led by a man who is claiming that it's both legal and morally right to bribe criminals. Talk show hosts in the US sense our acute embarrassment with this calamitous Prime Minister, in what must surely be one of the shameful periods in our 115-year political history. 
So, as always, we look to the sporting fields for some uplifting events. And no national team is raising our spirits quite like the Australian Matildas* at the women's World Cup soccer** finals in Canada.
Indigenous Australian, super sub Kyah Simon, scores for the Matildas against Nigeria. Her cousins include rugby stars Kurtley Beale, Jamal Idris and John Simon.
Already the first senior Australian team to win a knock-out match at a World Cup soccer tournament (they beat Brazil this week), tomorrow morning the Matildas face defending world champions Japan in Edmonton for a place in the semi-finals. 
Australia lost its opening round match to the US but went on to qualify by beating Nigeria and holding Sweden to a draw. The US, which has eliminated China, now faces Germany in one semi-final, in Montreal on Tuesday. If the Matildas can get past Japan they will take on either England or host nation Canada in the other, in Edmonton on Wednesday. The Japanese Nadeshiko*** beat the US on penalties in the 2011 final in Frankfurt, with Sweden finishing third, so Australians can already feel proud that the Matildas got though from the "group of death".
To mark this achievement, and to give the team a kick along before tomorrow's quarter-final, I have created a new portable typewriter, the Triumph Matilda, in Australia's national sporting colours of green and gold.

*The Matildas take their name from the bush ballad Waltzing Matilda, Australia's unofficial national anthem. The lyrics were written by Banjo Patterson.  A matilda is a swag. The title is Australian slang for travelling on foot (waltzing, derived from the German auf der Walz) with one's belongings slung over one's back.
**Soccer is a late 19th century Oxbridge abbreviation of "association", as in "association football". It arose as a response to the word "rugger" for rugby union football. It is the more accurate name for the code, regardless of worldwide claims that soccer has an historic right to be referred to as "football". Soccer was not codified until 1863, more than four years after Australian football. Rugby School football was codified in 1843. This school codification was in large part based on the oral tradition of "mob" or "folk traditional" football, played in Britain from the time of the Norman Conquest, and generally a handling and running game.
***Japan’s women's soccer team is known as the Nadeshiko, a reference to the hardy plant whose pink flowers bloom despite the arid riverbed conditions in Kyoto. Here endeth the lesson for today.

Out of O'Casey's Shadow

$
0
0

Typewriters feature in many stage plays; but there are few in which the typewriter is as prominent as it is in Seán O'Casey's The Shadow of a Gunman, which is back at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin.
The Shadow of a Gunman was O'Casey's first accepted play and was first staged at the Abbey in 1923. Each act is set in a room in a poor, busy tenement slum in "Hilljoy Square" in Dublin, in May 1920, during the Irish War of Independence, and centres on the mistaken identity of a poet thought to be an Irish Republican Army assassin. It is the first of O'Casey's "Dublin Trilogy" - the other two being Juno and the Paycock (1924) and The Plough and the Stars (1926).
The Shadow of a Gunman deals with the impact of revolutionary politics on Dublin's slums and their inhabitants, and is understood to be set in Mountjoy Square, where O'Casey lived during the 1916 Easter Rising. 
A range of typewriters have been used in the very many productions of The Shadow of a Gunman during the past 92 years, not all of them fitting within the May 1920 setting for the play. In this 1953 Abbey show, however, it appears an Underwood 3 portable was employed:
At the other end of the scale of appropriateness is this little Silver-Seiko:
One of the more notable productions came in a 1992 BBC2 Performance series and starred Kenneth Branagh using an L.C.Smith standard:

The full 73-minute production can be watched here (the typing scene is at the beginning):

Some other productions:
Dublin-born  O'Casey (1880-1964) was a committed socialist and the first Irish playwright of note to write about the Dublin working classes. He died in Torquay, Devon, on September 18, 1964, aged 84.

17th Century Typewriter? The Instrumentum Pettii

$
0
0
Sir William Petty
Quite a few typewriter history books and essays, most notably Wilf Beeching's Century of the Typewriter (1974, above) and Darren Wershler-Henry's The Iron Whim: A Fragmented History of Typewriting (2005), point to a mid-17th century invention as a precursor of the typewriter. Indeed, on this subject, Wershler-Henry refers to Beeching, whose work, sadly, does not include references. Scrutiny clearly shows, however, that Beeching's haphazard research relied in large part on the 1895 biography of Sir William Petty by one of Petty's descendants, British politician, historian and playwright Lord Edmond George Fitzmaurice (1846-1935).
As well as writing The Life of Sir William Petty, 1623-1687 - Chiefly Derived from Private Documents Hitherto Unpublished, Baron Fitzmaurice also, in 1901, contributed the entry on Petty to the Dictionary of National Biography, 1885-1900, Volume 45, upon which Petty's Wikipedia entry is in some part based.
What Fitzmaurice wrote about Petty's invention - the Instrumentum Pettii -  is this:
Samuel Hartlib (c1600-62), a German-British polymath, was one of the "great 17th-century 'intelligencers'" and a man of science who "set out to record all human knowledge and make it universally available for the education of all mankind". In a letter to Irish-born natural philosopher, chemist, physicist and inventor Robert Boyle (1627-91), on August 10, 1658, (The Works of the Honourable Robert Boyle) Hartlib wrote, "I am told here, that Dr Petty hath a commodious way of printing, called Instrumentum Pettii, very convenient to carry about, and to print in travelling some few sheets of paper, if occasion present itself." Earlier, in 1647, Hartlib had written to Boyle:
Beeching's claim that this patent was granted by Charles I is patently incorrect. Fitzmaurice states the patent was obtained from the Commonwealth. At the time, Charles had been on the run for two years, since the Battle of Naseby on June 14, 1645. Disguised as a servant, he had escaped from the Siege of Oxford in April 1646 and had put himself into the hands of the Scottish Presbyterian army besieging Newark, and was taken to Newcastle upon Tyne. The Scots delivered Charles to the parliamentary commissioners in January 1647 and he was held under house arrest at Holdenby House in Northamptonshire, later being transferred to Oatlands and Hampton Court, and being finally confined in Carisbrooke Castle. So no patent issuing from him!
Language, Technology, and Society, by Richard Sproat (2010)
Werschler-Henry does not go so far as the duplicate Beeching's mistake on this, though he does unfaithfully (and without acknowledgement) quote John Rushworth from Fitzmaurice's biography of Petty. Rushworth (c1612-90) was an English lawyer, historian and politician who sat in the House of Commons at various times between 1657-85. He compiled a series of works covering the English Civil Wars throughout the 17th century called Historical Collections (also known as the Rushworth Papers), to which Fitzmaurice refers. 
Wershler-Henry wrote:
...
As for Beeching's claim that Petty was "a Secret Service agent in Ireland", and Wershler-Henry's that he was a "secret agent in the service of Charles I", let's look more closely at Fitzmaurice's DNB entry. There we find that, quite to the contrary, Petty worked for Oliver Cromwell and the Commonwealth, and was in fact "the bearer of secret despatches between Henry Cromwell in Ireland and Richard Cromwell, Secretary Thurloe, Lord Fauconberg, General Fleetwood, and others in England". And that was not until long after the Instrumentum Pettii had been invented and discarded. Fitzmaurice recorded:
...
William Petty, most famous as a political economist, was born at Romsey in Hampshire on May 26, 1623. As a child he showed a marked taste for mathematics and applied mechanics. "His principal amusement," according to his friend John Aubrey, was "to look on the artificers, [for example] smyths [blacksmiths], the watchmakers, carpenters, joiners etc; and at 12-years-old he could have worked at any of these trades".
Petty studied at the Jesuit College at Caen and became an accomplished French linguist. At the outbreak of the English civil war he returned to the continent and studied at Utrecht and Amsterdam, and matriculated as a student of medicine at Leyden on May 26, 1644. Petty moved to Paris and joined the coterie which met at the house of Father Mersenne, the mathematician. On his return to England in 1646, for a time he took up his father's business as a clothier, but settled in Oxford,where he took a doctorate in physics in 1649. On the reorganisation of the university by the Commonwealth, Petty was appointed a fellow of Brasenose and in 1651 he became professor of anatomy, "having ... obtained a wide reputation by reviving the supposed corpse of one Ann Green, who had been hanged for murder and pronounced dead by the sheriff".
In 1652 Petty was appointed physician-general to the English army in Ireland. He undertook to make a complete map of the whole of Ireland; when printed in Amsterdam, it was declared the most exact map of the kind which had to that time appeared.
Following the fall of the Cromwellian party, Petty readily acquiesced in the Restoration. Charles II extended a willing welcome to Petty, even though Petty refused to abandon or disown his connection with the Cromwell family. On the occasion of the first incorporation of the Royal Society (April 22, 1662), of which he was one of the original members, Petty was knighted. Petty contributed several scientific papers, mainly relating to applied mechanics and practical inventions, to the "Philosophical Transactions" of the Royal Society. He devised a new kind of land carriage; with Sir William Spragge he tried to fix an engine with propelling power in a ship; he invented "a wheel to ride upon"; and constructed a double-keeled vessel which was to be able to cross the Irish Channel and defy wind and tide. 
Petty died on December 16, 1687, in London, aged 64. He had made significant contributions to the theoretical issues which have dominated the later subject of economics ever since. Proving his claims by finding data and statistics, rather than relying on anecdotal evidence, he influenced not only immediate successors such as Richard Cantillon but also some of the greatest minds in economics, including Adam Smith, Karl Marx and John Maynard Keynes
Petty's great-grandson, William Petty-Fitzmaurice, 1st Marquess of Lansdowne (1737-1805), known as the Earl of Shelburne, was an Irish-born British Whig statesman who was the first Home Secretary in 1782 and then British Prime Minister from 1782–83,  during the final months of the American War of Independence. He succeeded in securing peace with America and this feat remains his most notable legacy.
Viewing all 1889 articles
Browse latest View live