Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Wahl, Sheaffer and the Race for Boston - Part Two

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

Note:  this is the second installment in a five-part series.  Part one begins at http://leadheadpencils.blogspot.com/2016/12/wahl-sheaffer-and-race-for-boston-part.html.


The Chicken Rancher’s Next Move

On New Years’ Day, 1916, less than two weeks after Colonel Smith was lounging alongside his poultry without a care in the world, The Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer announced that Smith was emerging from his short retirement to sell pens for The Boston Fountain Pen Company in fourteen states, with his headquarters in Chicago.[i]

Charles Keeran comments in his 1928 letter that the Chicago department store “Marshall Field & Co. also featured this [Boston Fountain] pen above all others,” so Smith’s sudden association with a distant company is not as random as it might initially appear; it is also possible, if in fact Smith expressed dissatisfaction with Sheaffer to Keeran at their dinner on September 17, that Keeran suggested that Smith look into selling Boston Fountain Pens as an alternative.   If Keeran had anything more to do with Smith’s association with Boston, he would have taken credit for doing so; he didn’t, so it is likely that the recently unemployed and resourceful Smith developed his relationship with The Boston Fountain Pen Company on his own.[ii] 

Figure 13. This advertisement in the September 20, 1916 issue of The Chicago Daily Tribune establishes that Marshall Field & Co. was carrying both Boston Fountain pens and Ever Sharp pencils . . . alongside Waterman Ideals.
No record has surfaced to date of where Smith’s Chicago offices were located, but he must have spent some time at Keeran’s offices in the Lytton Building:  just a week after the initial announcement that Smith was handling the “Boston Safety Pen Company,” The American Stationer announced that Smith added a pencil to his Boston pens:  Keeran’s Ever Sharp[iii]  The account states that Smith’s contract to sell Eversharp pencils was with “Keeran & Co.” in the states of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan and Kentucky.  Keeran & Co. was the separate company Keeran formed to distribute Ever Sharps manufactured by his “Eversharp Pencil Company.”  While Keeran indicates in his 1928 letter that at some point around this time – by mid-1916 -- Wahl’s officers had purchased a majority of the shares in the Eversharp Pencil Company, Keeran remained in control of his distribution company.

The state of Illinois is conspicuously absent from Colonel Smith’s Ever Sharp territory (whether this is because Keeran had lost control of that state by virtue of Wahl’s control of Eversharp, or because Keeran wanted to keep it for himself).  However, in four states, William Smith’s sole writing instrument lines were Boston Fountain Pens and Ever Sharp pencils.  Whether Smith offered the pair together in one box or not, it was Smith – and neither Wahl nor Sheaffer – who thought that a fountain pen and mechanical pencil would “fit in very nicely” together and made it happen. 

Smith, the former Waterman man, Sheaffer man and chicken rancher, was masterfully orchestrating his next marketing stunt.  With trade announcements in The American Stationer still hot off the press, he was poised to take the Midwest by storm.  In just a couple weeks’ time, all of the major players in the Midwestern stationer’s industry would be gathered together in one room, ripe for Smith to make a big impression and even bigger sales, at the black-tie event around which the industry’s year revolved, and in which Smith reveled: the 1916 Chicago Stationers’ Dinner.   

Black Ties and Red Faces:  The Unreceptive Corner at the Stationers’ Dinner

As mentioned earlier, William Smith was an annual fixture at the Chicago Stationer’s Dinner, held in January each year.  “It was an occasion that brought forth all that goes to make up good fellowship of the right kind,” The American Stationer reported in 1914.  “It was a moment when men, away from their business cares for a short time—gathered for their annual festivities—listened to words that had in them the ring of truth and the elements of weight.”[iv]  Smith had attended for many years; in 1914, he had missed it due to his falling out with Waterman; in 1915, he returned triumphantly on Walter Sheaffer’s arm.  The fourteenth annual banquet, to be held on January 15, 1916, would be different:  for the first time, “the ladies were invited.”[v]

Smith capitalized on the event:  after the introductions and a chorus of “America,” the menus were presented, and each of the ladies found on their plate a Boston Fountain Pen in sterling, engraved with their name and accompanied by Colonel Smith’s card.[vi] 

The Colonel’s publicity stunt was a significant breach of etiquette, on an evening during which the men were supposed to be “away from their business cares”:  while The American Stationer’s annual reports were very detailed year after year with respect to who was present and with whom they were associated at the time, there had never been an occasion such as this when an attendee used the event to promote their individual products – and there is no indication that Smith similarly promoted Waterman’s or Sheaffer’s pens in previous years. 

The “officer” and a gentleman Smith doubtless left the wives in attendance swooning, and the fact that Smith escaped rebuke for his stunt is a testament to his status in the Chicago stationer’s community.  Not everyone would have been Even though  – all perhaps, except for one.  “W.A. Sheaffer, of the W.A. Sheaffer Pen Company, came on from Fort Madison, Ia.,” the account reports, “and was busy doing his share of the entertaining during the evening.”  Fred Seymour from Waterman was also on hand, “kept very busy shaking hands during the course of the evening.”[vii]
The recently jilted Walter A. Sheaffer must have been blindsided by Colonel Smith’s “clever stunt,” and it is difficult to imagine how a Boston Fountain Pen inscribed with Mrs. Sheaffer’s name would have survived the evening.  It is, however, easy to imagine what Sheaffer’s “share of the entertaining” must have been as he watched his former Chicago manager steal the show that evening, perhaps commiserating with Fred Seymour, the Waterman executive who had just a couple years earlier been dispatched to Chicago to escort the wayward Colonel Smith back to Waterman’s Chicago office. 

Figure 14. Walter Sheaffer shakes hands – and likely his head – while Col. Bill Smith steals the show.
Smith might as well have thrown his drink in Walter Sheaffer’s face.  Sheaffer was still in the midst of a bad breakup with former business partner George Kraker, and for the second time, he was watching a close and important business associate abandon him and turn competitor.  In the case of Kraker, Sheaffer retaliated with protracted patent litigation over the rights to the lever-fill pen design both were using.  Smith, however, would be a different matter – all he was doing was selling someone else’s pens.  If Sheaffer wanted to shut Smith down, his next logical move would be to acquire Boston.

If the deeply personal conflict between Walter Sheaffer and William Smith were not enough for Sheaffer to think about attacking the Boston Fountain Pen Company, the events which unfolded in the first half of 1916 guaranteed that Sheaffer would do so.

The Race for Boston Is On

The gregarious Colonel Smith was a pied piper of pen salesman, and as his Boston Pen/Eversharp pencil business gathered steam, other prominent salesmen from Chicago stationers’ houses soon found themselves within his gravitational pull.  On January 26, 1916, The American Stationer reported the resignation of Eddie Dick, the fountain pen and “clasp pencil” department head of Stevens, Maloney & Co.  “It is whispered that Eddie will assist one of the well-known salesman in the fountain pen business in this territory,” the article reported.[viii]

Smith’s success also appeared to lured William H. Newhall away from Shea Smith & Co., although reports are somewhat conflicted as to whether Newhall’s relationships with either Shea Smith or Colonel Smith were exclusive.  In April, 1916, both Geyer’s Stationer and The American Stationer reported that Newhall and Smith had formed a new company, the Newhall-Smith Company.  Geyer’s reported that Newhall-Smith’s offices were on the seventh floor of the Harris Trust Building at the corner of Monroe and LaSalle; while the company had a “good-sized” display room for their samples (which were expanded to include Solidhead Tacks, Featherweight Eyeshades and Gordon Brown’s china markers, called the “Perfect Paper Pencils”), the company’s presence in the upper floors of an office building suggests that Newhall-Smith’s business model was supplying stationers rather than competing with them. [ix]   Eddie Dick, of course, turns up shortly thereafter “assisting” Newhall-Smith.[x]

As for Charles Keeran, Newhall-Smith’s success in promoting his pencils was equal parts blessing and curse.  The increased demand fueled by Newhall-Smith caused Keeran to pressure Wahl to increase production and build up inventory, but in the process Keeran overextended himself.  According to a 1921 account by C.A. Frary, “the owner of The Eversharp Pencil Company found himself at the end of his resources.  He could not pay his bills.  We, as a result of being his manufacturers, were the chief creditors.  Consequently, it seemed that the ‘easiest way to get the money due was to take over the nearly-defunct company.”[xi]   Some of Wahl’s directors had acquired a controlling interest in Eversharp, and Keeran’s offices were relocated to the Peoples Gas Building in Chicago. 

The Boston Fountain Pen Company was prospering from its relationship with Colonel Smith, in more ways than one.  Not only was Boston enjoying increased sales in the Midwest, but Boston had the best intelligence available as to what Walter Sheaffer’s plans would be.  Smith would certainly have understood that while only one man would be left standing as between Kraker and Sheaffer, the basic idea of a lever-filled fountain pen would not only survive, but would be fair game.  As Waterman was demonstrating with the introduction of its PSF line of lever fillers in 1915, anyone could produce a lever filler, as long as the pitfalls of those improvements peculiar to the Sheaffer, Kraker and Craig patents were avoided.[xii]

The extent to which Smith influenced the Boston Fountain Pen Company’s direction is unknown, but if Smith had some insight into Walter Sheaffer’s plans and if Smith left Sheaffer because he thought the lever filler was a smashing idea upon which he would be better off capitalizing with another company, then what happened next makes perfect sense:

The Boston Fountain Pen Company developed its own version of a lever-filler.

The patent application for Boston’s version was filed on May 1, 1916 by David J. LaFrance, who had been Boston’s superintendent since 1905.  LaFrance’s version neatly avoided all of the arguments in the Sheaffer litigation over how to attach a compression plate to the barrel of the pen in the most elegant way:  it wasn’t attached at all.  Rather, Boston’s compression plate hung by a spring from the lever itself, so that lifting the lever stretched the spring and deflated the sac; when the lever was released, it would snap shut and be held flush with the barrel by the tension of the spring.
Figure 15.  David J. LaFrance’s patent number 1,209,978 for a lever-filling fountain pen, applied for on May 1, 1916.  Note the date the patent was issued:  December 26, 1916.
Boston and Colonel Smith wasted no time rushing the new pen into production and to market.  On July 8, 1916, The American Stationer reported that Newhall and Smith had returned from a trip to Boston, and a week later reported that W.H. Newhall claimed that Eddie Dick owed him a new pair of pants due to Dick’s “zeal” in demonstrating how a Boston Safety is filled.  Meanwhile, Colonel Smith had embarked on a three-week long sales trip, long even by Smith’s standards, in which he would visit such far-reaching places as “St. Louis, Kansas City, Omaha, Des Moines, St. Paul and Minneapolis.”[xiii]

Figure 16.  Boston lever-filling fountain pens, from the collection of Roger Wooten.    
Whether or not William Smith had anything to do with Boston’s development of a lever-filled fountain pen, the fact that Boston did so, and when they did so, worked out perfectly for Smith.  At the end of 1915, Smith was branch office manager for a company making pens that were selling like wildfire . . . but which may or may not survive, depending on the outcome of pending litigation.  By July of 1916, he’s free of Sheaffer, doing the same job selling fountain pens that worked like and looked like a Sheaffer, with none of Sheaffer’s baggage inside – and with a companion pencil, to boot. 

It was at that precise time, just as everything was taking off for Newhall-Smith and the Boston Fountain Pen Company, a little birdie told Charles Keeran the Boston Fountain Pen Company might be for sale.  Colonel Birdie, we’ll call him.

The Pieces of the Puzzle Come Together

Once the Boston Fountain Pen Company’s new pens emerged as a litigation-free alternative to Sheaffer’s enormously popular lever filler, Boston was in the same predicament in which Keeran had found his Eversharp Pencil Company the previous year – the company itself became a valuable commodity practically overnight.  Although Charles Keeran’s 1928 account of the events which followed does not contain many of the dates, working his timeline backwards it appears that the wrangling began in mid-1916.[xiv]

The chain reaction which resulted in the sale of the Boston Fountain Pen Company is speculative, but the preceding well-documented story suggests it likely began with overtures, threats or a combination of the two from Sheaffer.  All of the other characters were satisfied with the status quo:  Smith was happy selling the pens, not making them, and neither Keeran nor Wahl would have had any motivation to disrupt what was becoming a very profitable enterprise. 

Walter Sheaffer, on the other hand, had strong personal reasons for attacking the company, if not from the moment Smith resigned, then certainly the morning after that fateful Chicago Stationers’ Dinner in January.  Smith’s success distributing of Boston Fountain Pens and Ever Sharp pencils in early 1916 would have added a business motivation to any desire Sheaffer might have had to settle a personal score.  Add to these factors Boston’s introduction of a competing lever-filled fountain pen, and acquiring Boston would become a necessity if Sheaffer was to preserve his domination of the lever-filled pen market. 

Smith had always landed on his feet before, but he had reasons to be very concerned about a possible Sheaffer buyout of Boston.  He had burned bridges with both Waterman and Sheaffer, investing himself and likely his resources heavily in his new Smith-Newhall enterprise.  Smith would have known to a certainty that if a sale of Boston to Sheaffer went through, he would be back on his chicken ranch in ten minutes flat. 

William E. Newhall likewise had a lot riding on Smith’s fate.  News reports at the time are somewhat ambiguous as to whether Newhall had entered into the Newhall-Smith partnership in addition to or instead of his association with the established Shea Smith & Co., but the fact that Newhall-Smith was wholesaling pens, pencils and other products to other stationers suggests that Newhall’s ability to actively represent Shea Smith’s interests was severely compromised.  If all of Smith’s eggs were in one basket (pun intended), it wouldn’t be an enviable basket for Newhall to share if Walter Sheaffer came in to clean house – especially given Sheaffer’s history of suing even those who were only tangentially involved in an alleged infraction.

Since both Smith and Newhall had an interest in keeping their existing product lines intact, it isn’t surprising that one or both of them would try to find a friendlier buyer for Boston.  Wahl, whose directors now controlled Keeran’s Eversharp Pencil Company, would have been the obvious choice.  If Wahl directors owned both The Boston Fountain Pen Company as well as the Eversharp Pencil Company, Smith and Newhall would be assured they would keep Boston Fountain Pens paired with Keeran’s Ever Sharp pencils. 

Keeran reports that C.S. Roberts, Wahl’s vice president and the man he attempted to persuade to buying Boston, was hesitant -- with good reason.  The Eversharp Pencil Company’s relationship with Newhall-Smith was not an exclusive one, and Ever Sharp pencils were selling briskly with or without the Boston Safety Pens, particularly on the west coast.  In addition, Boston’s newfound success was a double-edged sword:  while Wahl’s executives found it relatively easy and cheap to acquire Keeran’s startup company, the Boston Fountain Pen Company was an established business, and their slick new lever filler would doubtless make Boston on the one hand profitable yet on the other, more expensive to acquire.

Besides, Roberts might legitimately have thought, although Sheaffer might want to buy Boston, whether to settle a score or for whatever other reason, in July, 1916, he might have assumed Sheaffer wasn’t in any position to do so.  The Courts had yet to determine the outcome in Sheaffer’s patent litigation, and if Sheaffer lost, there likely would be no Sheaffer Pen Company and business would continue as usual.  Wait and see, Roberts might legitimately have thought.

Roberts, Keeran, Smith and Newhall didn’t have to wait long.  On August 23, 1916, the United States Patent Office determined the “priority” of Sheaffer and Craig’s respective patents, determining that it was Sheaffer, and not Craig, who invented Sheaffer’s “double bar” lever filler.  This was not the end of the Sheaffer-Kraker-Craig litigation, which was running on two parallel tracks:  the case in which Walter Sheaffer had been testifying throughout 1915 was the infringement litigation, filed as the parties continued to scuffle in the Patent Office over whose invention came first.  The patent office decision in the interference case didn’t end the infringement litigation, but it did preordain one of the outcomes:  since each of the parties was suing the other for infringement, the Patent Office decision meant that Sheaffer could not have infringed on Craig, but Craig must have infringed on Sheaffer.  All that was left for the court to do in the Sheaffer litigation was decide the remedy for what was now found to be the wrong. 

Figure 17.  The patent dispute between Sheaffer and Craig was not finally decided until 1918, but the Patent Office decision announced in August, 1916 made Sheaffer’s ultimate victory inevitable.
The patent office decision in the Sheaffer case added urgency to the pleas of Smith, Newhall and Keeran for a friendlier buyer, now that Sheaffer would clearly survive and would have the capital to pursue Boston with greater ferocity.  According to Keeran’s letter, this is when C.S. Roberts finally agreed to send Keeran to Boston “to look into the matter.”

The decision likely would have softened Charles Brandt to the idea of selling, too.  Even though Boston’s patent appeared to stand on very solid footing, Sheaffer’s success in patent litigation stood in stark contrast to Boston’s bad luck, beginning when Brandt founded the company in 1905 and Brandt’s petition for a trademark for “Boston Fountain Pen Company” was denied solely because the mark spelled out the word “Company” but his petition was signed with the word Company abbreviated as “Co.”[xv]  Just two years before Sheaffer’s 1916 victory, The Boston Fountain Pen Co. lost an infringement action it filed over pens made by the Sanford & Bennett Co.; to add insult to injury, the story in The American Stationer reporting the outcome of the litigation on April 18, 1914 appeared on the same pages as a sizeable advertisement for Sanford & Bennett’s allegedly infringing pens.[xvi]  Any threat of litigation from Sheaffer, no matter how hollow, would have been cause for concern to Brandt.

According to Keeran, he traveled to Boston one afternoon in September, 1916, met Charles Brandt for the first time at 4:00 p.m., and “in one hour bought the whole works for $50,000.00.”  Working backwards from Keeran’s timeline, when his second sixty-day option period expired on January 10, 1917, this meeting would have occurred around September 12, 1916.[xvii]

No other documents have been found to substantiate Keeran’s account, and it seems highly unlikely that Keeran met Brandt for the first time and negotiated the purchase of his entire established business in an hour.  When Keeran arrived in Boston in early September 1916, he would have needed some introduction if he was to have any credibility.  He had one.  On September 16, 1916, The American Stationer reported that “W.H. Newhall, of the Newhall-Smith Company, made a trip to Boston last week on business.”[xviii]

The price Keeran says he negotiated, $50,000.00, is the equivalent of more than $1.1 million in 2015.  Keeran didn’t have that sort of cash, and since he was no longer in control of his Eversharp Pencil Company, he couldn’t speak for the company, either:  all he could do was negotiate an option for sixty days at whatever price Brandt would accept and take it back to the decision makers back in Chicago.  Wahl’s management did not give his deal the warm reception Keeran anticipated, and as the sixty-day option was running out, Wahl “was not yet ready” to exercise the option.  With the option set to expire around November 10, 1916, Keeran reports that he traveled to New York (and not Boston), where Charles Brandt met him and, “after a long conference in his attorney’s office,” Keeran was able to persuade him to extend the option for another sixty days.

Neither Keeran nor any other source indicates who Charles Brandt’s attorney in New York was, but a good guess is an 1891 graduate of Columbia, who had offices at 99 Nassau Street and 319 West 87th Streets: Charles Brandt, Jr.[xix]  The elder Brandt’s reluctance to extend Keeran’s option may have been nothing more than his desire for a professional opinion or a family meeting with Charles Brandt, his son George (who managed the works), and Charles Jr., the attorney; after all, his initial option to sell “the whole works” was negotiated in the span of an hour, when Keeran and Newhall had shown up unannounced.  However, Brandt’s hesitation may also have been because Brandt sensed he may be able to get a better deal – and the evidence suggests that pressure from Sheaffer had likely been building since Keeran first paid Mr. Brandt a visit.

The Kugel Maneuver

In mid-September, at almost exactly the same time Keeran reports that he negotiated the initial option to purchase the Boston Fountain Pen Company, Sheaffer’s New York office manager, B.T. Coulson, abruptly resigns.  The American Stationer and Office Appliances both attributed Coulson’s resignation to nothing more than “ill health and a much-needed rest” and indicated that “[h]e will still retain his interest in the company as well as his official connections.”[xx]  

It is likely true that Coulson’s health was deteriorating:  pneumonia eventually claimed his life in February, 1920.[xxi]  However, the report in Geyer’s Stationer indicates there may have been more to the story, announcing that while Coulson would retain his official title of Vice President, he “in fact severed his active association with the company.”[xxii]  Was Coulson quietly relieved of duty because he failed to consummate some sort of a deal with the Boston Fountain Pen Company?  The evidence suggests that he was.

Concurrently with the announcements of Coulson’s retirement was the announcement that upon Coulson’s departure from New York on October 1, he would be replaced by “an old fountain pen man,” The Parker Pen Company’s former Chicago office manager, Arthur L. Kugel (misspelled as “Kudel” in the Geyer’s account).[xxiii]   Kugel, who was being brought into New York from Chicago to replace an office manager forced to resign ostensibly due to his health, would obviously attend first to the most pressing matters affecting Sheaffer’s New York office.  

Thanks to the The American Stationer, we know what that most pressing matter was.  According to a news report published in the October 7, 1916 edition, Kugel spent his first week as Sheaffer’s New York representative . . . in Boston.[xxiv]

A Different Sort of Nor’easter

It took some talking in November, 1916, but Keeran says he was able to persuade Brandt to extend his option for an additional sixty days, ending on January 10, 1917.   Keeran is silent, however, on what happened in between the time he negotiated this extension and December 26, 1916, when he and C.S.  Roberts boarded a train for Boston to exercise the option.  The deal was apparently all but done in the minds of Newhall and Smith, who disbanded their company:  the last reference to Newhall-Smith is in connection with Newhall’s trip to Boston in September, 1916, and a month later, The American Stationer reported that Smith attended the convention of the National Association of Stationers and Manufacturers in Atlanta – no longer on behalf of the company which bore his name, but representing The Eversharp Pencil Company.[xxv]  As for Newhall, he returned to his former position at Shea Smith & Co., and a 1922 biographical sketch in Office Appliances makes no reference to his former involvement with Smith.  If Newhall burned any bridges when he left Shea Smith, all was quickly forgiven and forgotten.[xxvi]  

It is possible that Wahl’s directors dispatched C.S. Roberts and Keeran to Boston on the day after Christmas to exercise the option for accounting reasons, hoping to close out the transaction and spend the cash before the end of the fiscal year.  However, there is a more attractive theory for the sudden urgency: on December 26, 1916, the Boston Fountain Pen Company became significantly more valuable. 

On that very day, the United States Patent Office awarded David J. LaFrance his patent for Boston’s version of a lever-filled fountain pen.

Walter Sheaffer and his boots on the ground, Arthur Kugel, would have known the same thing.   If someone else had patent rights to make a pen which, for all practical purposes, looked just like the ones Sheaffer was making, would the public necessarily care what was inside, so long as it worked?   In Sheaffer’s fight with Kraker, there could be only one winner:  with that struggle all but won in late 1916, Sheaffer was now facing another, more difficult challenge.   He had to find a way to maintain his near monopoly on lever-filling pens, this time against a competitor whose design didn’t violate his patent rights.

At that crucial moment, Sheaffer caught a break when C.S. Roberts pulled a stunt which nearly killed the deal for Wahl.  According to Keeran, Roberts believed that Keeran had agreed to overpay for Boston, so Roberts did not bring the agreed-upon $50,000.00; instead, he only brought a check for $25,000.00, hoping to talk Brandt down by half when they arrived.  That’s half a million, in today’s dollars.

Roberts’ timing could not have been worse, because Brandt was not in a bargaining mood.  According to Keeran, “the owner not only wouldn’t take twenty-five, but he wouldn’t take fifty thousand.”  And why should he?  Brandt’s stock had increased dramatically in value when the patent was awarded (the modern equivalent would be a tick up in value for a pharmaceutical company on the day a patent is awarded to it), and Sheaffer was probably nipping at Brandt’s heels, with either a competing offer, legal threats, or a combination of the two.   

Keeran says that after he and Roberts consulted with an attorney, they were advised that if they wanted to force the sale, they needed to tender the full agreed price; Roberts, who by this time realized his miscalculation, hastily contacted Chicago and had the remainder of the money wired.  Keeran and Roberts then went back to Brandt, who refused a certified check for $50,000.00.  Remember, that would be more than a million dollars today.

So, according to Keeran, he and Roberts settled into a nearby hotel for two weeks to play rummy, while “the lawyers” worked things out. During this time, Keeran says, “Mr. Brandt offered me $20,000.00 if I’d let him off.”  In 2015 dollars, that’s nearly half a million!  There is only one explanation for this:  Walter Sheaffer was offering Brandt a lot more money, probably in excess of $70,000.00.  

Brandt and his lawyers finally relented, and when the transaction closed, Keeran reports, “[Roberts] was really enthused for the first time.”  Roberts, the same man who so reluctantly brought a check for $25,000.00 to Boston on December 26 was “enthused” two weeks later to spend twice that amount?  Of course he was.  Sheaffer was prepared to pay much more, and Roberts was now convinced he had gotten a deal.

No direct evidence has yet surfaced establishing what was negotiated during those two weeks of rummy games.  However, as any lawyer who has been in the trenches for any length of time will tell you, there is rarely a clear, black or white, win or lose.  Charles Brandt did not simply see the light, thumb his nose at Walter Sheaffer, agree that selling his company pursuant to his agreement with Charles Keeran was the right thing to do, convince Sheaffer to go quietly into the night, close the deal and have everyone live happily ever after.  What everyone involved got in January, 1917 was something less than what they wanted.  Among attorneys, there’s a well-known saying:  the perfect settlement is one with which no one is happy.

The surviving physical evidence clearly points to what the terms of that settlement were.

The Compromise, Part One: as to Fountain Pens

For many years, collectors have noted that the earliest Wahl pens have Sheaffer levers rather than Boston’s lever system.  A century later, one of the theories for this apparent anomality is that the Boston lever wasn’t as effective as the Sheaffer “double bar,” but that opinion is based on the performance of Boston’s levers a century later than when they were made.  At the time they were made, Boston’s springed compression bars may well have had significantly greater “spring,” and may have been every bit Sheaffer’s equal in effectiveness.

Figure 18.  Identical pens, one stamped with a Boston Safety Fountain Pen imprint, the other with a Wahl Tempoint imprint.  From the collection of Roger Wooten

However, all of the evidence of the gathering storm which surrounded Boston’s purchase suggests that one of the terms of Walter Sheaffer’s surrender of the Boston Fountain Pen Company to Wahl was to saddle Boston with an obligation to use Sheaffer’s levers on all of its lever filled pens before the company was sold, subject to this obligation, to Wahl. 

Figure 19.  The levers of both pens shown in Figure 18, when lifted, each have a patent date of November 24, 1914 stamped on the side – a reference to Walter Sheaffer’s patent number 1,118,240.  From the collection of Roger Wooten.
Cliff Harrington, in the spring, 2001 issue of The Pennant, revealed the details of a 1918 Wahl catalog he discovered, which had been annotated by C.W. Thornton, Wahl’s cost accountant, with detailed production costs for the pens.  Among these costs, Thornton indicated, was a five cent per lever license fee.  “It was not clear whether this was paid to Sheaffer or to some other rights holder,” Harrington stated,[xxvii] but when all the events described in this article are put together, there can be no doubt now.
Figure 20.  Walter Sheaffer’s patent date was also stamped on some early Wahl pens with the familiar Wahl lever.  From the collection of Roger Wooten.


[i] The Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer, January 1, 1916, at page 30.
[ii] While Keeran states that he had seen and admired Boston Safety Pens being sold at Wanamaker’s New York in 1913, it is noteworthy that Keeran – who was extolling his contributions to Wahl – did not take credit for giving Smith the idea to sell the Boston Fountain Pen.
[iii] The American Stationer, January 8, 1916, at page 32.
[iv] The American Stationer, January 17, 1914, at page 3.
[v] Geyer’s Stationer, January 20, 1916, at page 10.
[vi] The American Stationer, January 22, 1916, at page 41.
[vii] Id.
[viii] The American Stationer, January 26, 1916, at page 26.
[ix] Geyer’s Stationer, April 20, 1916, at page 11.
[x] The American Stationer, April 22, 1916, at page 36.
[xi] Frary, C.A., “What We Have Learned from Marketing Eversharp,” Printers’ Ink, August 11, 1921, at page 3.  Frary indicates that the buyout occurred by virtue of an exchange of stock after the end of the holiday season in 1916, but the acquisition must have occurred earlier in 1916; an increase in production in anticipation of Newhall-Smith’s sales is the only likely cause.
[xii] Barnes’ 1903 patent for a lever filler of a different design assured that Sheaffer would never acquire a monopoly on the basic concept of a pen with a rubber sac deflated with the use of a lever.
[xiii] The American Stationer, July 15, 1916, at page 32.
[xiv]Keeran reports that his renewal of his option to purchase the company, for another 60 days, ended on “about” January 10, 1917; therefore, his original option would have expired around November 10, 1916 and he would have negotiated his deal with Charles Brandt around September 10, 1916; prior to that, he says he tried to persuade Wahl “for months” after hearing from Bill Smith that the company was available.
[xv] Ex Parte Boston Fountain Pen Co., Official Gazette of the United States Patent Office, June 27, 1905, at page 2531.
[xvi] The American Stationer, April 18, 1914, at page 34. 
[xviii] The American Stationer, September 16, 1916, at page 8.
[xix] The Catalogue of Officers and Graduates of Columbia University (1916), at page 616.
[xx] The American Stationer, September 16, 1916, at page 25 and Office Appliances, October, 1916 at page 164.
[xxi] Office Appliances, April, 1920, at page 61.
[xxii] Geyer’s Stationer, September 14, 1916, at page 12.
[xxiii] Geyer’s Stationer, id.
[xxiv] The American Stationer, October 7, 1916, at page 18.
[xxv] The American Stationer, October 21, 1916, at page 112.
[xxvi] Office Appliances, September, 1922, at page 24.
[xxvii] Harrington, Clifford M., “Early Wahl Production Costs.”  The Pennant, Spring, 2001, at page 29.

Monday, December 26, 2016

Wahl, Sheaffer and the Race for Boston - Part One

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

Note:  This article appeared in the Winter 2015 and Spring 2016 issues of The Pennant, and is being reproduced here as a five-part series.

How Wahl Really Got Into the Pen Business and How Sheaffer Really Got Into the Pencil Business . . . At the Same Time.

By Jonathan Veley

In the second decade of the Twentieth Century, two new writing instrument manufacturers – the W. A. Sheaffer Pen Co. and Wahl Eversharp – emerged seemingly out of nowhere to join L.E. Waterman Co. and Parker Pen Co. to form a fraternity of companies collectors now refer to as the “Big Four” pen manufacturers in the United States.

A major factor in the meteoric rise of both Sheaffer and Eversharp was a new marketing strategy: offering fountain pens and mechanical pencils as sets.   Although a few Nineteenth Century makers had offered matched dip pens and pencils or combination writing instruments, with the rise of the fountain pen industry in the latter part of the century the practice was largely abandoned.  Established makers such as Mabie Todd & Co., as an example, continued to manufacture jewelry-quality pencils, but generally maintained these lines separately from the new fountain pens Mabie Todd introduced.  Parker and Waterman established themselves exclusively as fountain pen firms in the 1880s; Waterman, in particular, was actively hostile to the idea of expanding product lines to include pencils of any sort.[i] 

Eversharp and Sheaffer both appeared to hit upon the idea of selling fountain pens and practical companion pencils together almost simultaneously, in 1917.  The two companies approached the idea from opposite sides of the coin:  Wahl was already producing Charles Keeran’s Eversharp pencils and added fountain pens to its product line with the acquisition of the Boston Fountain Pen Company; Sheaffer, on the other hand, began as a fountain pen company and added “Sharp Point” pencils patented by Walter Sheaffer to the company’s lineup.  Parker and Waterman, on the other hand, didn’t wake up and grudgingly develop matching pencils to accompany their fountain pens until the early 1920s.[ii]  By then, mechanical pencils had ceased to be a point of distinction among writing instrument manufacturers and had become a point of parity.

Sheaffer and Wahl Eversharp’s stories concerning exactly how each hit upon and capitalized upon this stroke of marketing genius has remained murky for nearly a century, with gaps and inconsistencies in the accepted versions of each company’s story.  There is, however, a third, untold story, which neatly fills in all the gaps and resolves all the inconsistencies in both the Eversharp and Sheaffer stories . . . perfectly.

The Accepted Version of the Sheaffer Story

Walter Sheaffer entered the fountain pen business in 1912.  His new lever-filled fountain pens were an immediate commercial success, and Sheaffer quickly established offices in New York, Chicago and elsewhere.  In 1915, he litigated his famous patent infringement case against C.E. Barrett and former partner George Kraker, which Sheaffer ultimately won.

As abruptly as if he had been bopped on the head with a Newtonian apple, Sheaffer took a few minutes out of his busy schedule to dash off plans for an entirely new mechanical pencil and applied for a patent on July 12, 1917.  By the fall of 1917, national advertising campaigns were launched for his new “Sharp Point” and the pen man entered into full-scale production of these new pencils.  Walter’s pencil, unlike most other pencil designs of the era, seemed to flow from his mind fully formed in one go:  there was no immediate need for refinements or improvements to clean up his original design, and his patent date of November 5, 1918 was stamped on millions of metal Sheaffer pencils through the mid-1920s. 
Figure 1.  A typical Sheaffer “Giftie Set” from the early 1920s.  From a catalog dated 1922 at the PCA’s library, Pencollectorsofamerica.com.  Courtesy PCA.
Sheaffer was a genius; however, as the casting of the preceding paragraph suggests, it seems extremely unlikely that a fountain pen designer would concoct – in one go – a design for a brand new mechanical pencil from scratch, or that a five-year-old pen company would be able to gear up production for an entirely new product so quickly.  It is also odd how little interest Sheaffer showed in designing mechanical pencils after this:  his subsequent contributions to the art were nothing more than the design for the familiar flared cap and a mechanical pencil he ostensibly co-invented in the late 1920s with prolific pencil inventor Lucifer Most – given Most’s overwhelming contributions to the field, Walter’s name was most certainly added to the patent application as a mere courtesy to Most’s benefactor.

Much more likely is that some unsung and undocumented hero devised the Sheaffer Sharp Point pencil, which Sheaffer patented in his own name, and that figure likely also helped Sheaffer’s fledgling pen company enter into large-scale production of the new pencils.

The Accepted Version of the Wahl Eversharp Story

Charles R. Keeran of Bloomington, Illinois developing a new mechanical pencil in the fall of 1913, which he began marketing as the “Ever Sharp” by the end of that year. [iii]  In 1915, Keeran’s Eversharp Pencil Company hired a Chicago firm, the Wahl Adding Machine Company (which had been incorporated in 1905 to manufacture John Wahl’s patented adding attachment for typewriters) to manufacture pencils.   Wahl liked the pencils so much that the company decided to get into the writing instrument business by acquired a controlling interest in Keeran’s company.   Wahl then purchased the Boston Fountain Pen Company in 1917, renamed itself “The Wahl Company” and thereafter manufactured and sold Eversharp pencils on its own account as well as Boston Fountain Pens under the new name “Tempoint.” 
Figure 2.  Wahl’s “Announcement Extraordinary” featuring Boston Pens and Ever Sharp Pencils, from the February, 1917 issue of Office Appliances.  Note the patently false statement, “We built the Ever sharp Perfect Point Pencil from its very conception.”  Half truths and outright lies such as these have kept the early history of Wahl Eversharp murky for a century.

There is a more detailed account of how a Chicago pencil maker happened upon an obscure, local company such as the Boston Fountain Pen Company, albeit from a somewhat compromised source:  Charles Keeran himself, who was ousted by Wahl in August, 1917.  Keeran (who believed he was not fairly compensated for his efforts) wrote a letter Wahl’s directors in 1928, in which he implored them to pay him more out of the goodness of their hearts; while the exercise was predictably unsuccessful, Keeran’s six-page letter extolls his many contributions to Wahl’s success, including his role in orchestrating the purchase of the Boston Fountain Pen Company.   

In Keeran’s letter, he indicates that he first noticed fountain pens made by the Boston Fountain Pen Company being sold at Wanamaker’s New York store in 1913, while he was test-marketing his new pencils in that store.  Keeran says when he heard that Boston might be available, he thought his pencil and the pen would make “a wonderful team,” and “for months” he tried to convince Wahl to purchase the company. 

On September 12, 1916, Keeran says he went to Boston to meet with Charles Brandt, the owner of the Boston Fountain Pen Company.  “[I]n one hour” Keeran claims he negotiated an option for sixty days to buy “the whole works” for $50,000.00, then procured an extension of the option until January 10, 1917.  On December 26, 1916, Keeran says he boarded a train for Boston with Wahl’s Vice President, C.S. Roberts, to exercise the option.  However, when they arrived Brandt refused to sell, leaving Keeran and Roberts with “little to do but sit in the hotel and play rummy” for two weeks while lawyers worked things out.  The transaction finally closed sometime in January, 1917.
According to Keeran, “I had developed the finest pencil made and had brought to it as a team mate the finest pen,” and no other source controverts Keeran’s claim to have orchestrated the deal.  Yet in August, 1917, Keeran is abruptly informed that Wahl had replaced him as sales manager.  Within weeks, Keeran resigns.

Figure 3.  The conclusion of Charles Keeran’s 1928 letter.  Bob Bolin has reproduced the entire letter at http://unllib.unl.edu/Bolin_resources/pencil_page/keeran/index.htm.
Despite the whiney tone of Keeran’s letter overall, most of his story is corroborated by a close examination of the evidence.  However, three aspects of Keeran’s story fail to make sense: (1) If the Boston option was good through January 10, 1917, why did Keeran and Roberts board a train the day after Christmas from Chicago to Boston to consummate the deal?  (2) Why would Charles Brandt be convinced to sell his business to a complete stranger in just an hour, renew the option, then refuse to sell?  (3) Why would Charles Keeran, who negotiated a deal which by all accounts catapulted Wahl Eversharp to fame and prosperity in early 1917, suddenly find himself ousted in August, 1917?

Enter William E. Smith

One detail in Keeran’s account which stands out is from whom he learned that the Boston Fountain Pen Company might be available:  “from one of my super-salesmen, ‘Bill’ Smith.”   In Keeran’s self-laudatory, six-page letter, this is the only credit Keeran gives to anyone other than himself for having a good idea.  There’s a reason why Keeran dropped Smith’s name, and once those reasons are explored, Keeran’s statement that he casually thought Boston pens “might make a good teammate” for his pencils takes on an entirely different context. 

William Smith was not, as his letter implies, merely one of Keeran’s salesmen:  he was a hugely influential character and nearly forgotten character in the writing instrument business, and it is his career trajectory which brings the Sheaffer and Wahl stories together.
Figure 4.  Bill Smith is shown here relaxing with daughter Helen years after the events of our story.  From the November, 1922 issue of Office Appliances, at page 49.
Although a name like William E. Smith may be about as common a name as one might find, he appears to have been the same man who filed a patent application on May 7, 1889 for an ink shutoff valve, granted as patent number 427,444 on May 6, 1890.  Although the patent is unassigned, the inventor’s residence provided on the application is Berwick, Pennsylvania – less than twelve miles from the Paul Wirt Fountain Pen Company in Bloomsburg, and Wirt had an uncharacteristically cooperative relationship with the fledgling and equally litigious L.E. Waterman Company. 
The man who was clearly the William E. Smith in our story began working for Waterman around 1905,[iv]  and Smith quickly rose through the ranks at his new place of employment.  Pen historians are well-acquainted with a 1907 lecture concerning the history of fountain pens and how L.E. Waterman pens were made on behalf of the Company, an abstract of which appeared in the January, 1907 issue of The Druggists’ Circular.[v]  Less well known is that William E. Smith was the presentor.  By 1910, he is listed as an officer of Aikin Lambert & Co. (which was by 1907 under L. E. Waterman’s control), and in 1911, Waterman announced that the company had appointed Smith to be its “Western manager,” with offices in Chicago.[vi]  Smith’s gift of gab made him a darling of the stationers’ press, which regularly reported on “Bill’s” activities. 
Figure 5.  This article, published in the January, 1907 issue of The Druggists’ Circular, is well known among Waterman collectors; nearly forgotten is that it was penned by William E. Smith.

By 1913, there were signs that something was amiss in Smith’s relationship with his employer.  On August 11, 1913, Geyer’s Stationer reported that L.E. Waterman’s auditor, Frank S. Waterman, paid a visit to Smith’s offices in Chicago “on Thursday last;” at the time, Smith was “calling on the trade” in Cleveland, Ohio.  The article does not indicate whether Smith was expecting Waterman; however, according to the article Waterman boarded a train for Cleveland the following day, “where he held a brief conference with W.E. Smith.”[vii]   It seems unlikely that Auditor Waterman was going to such lengths to track down William Smith in order to compliment him on a tidy set of books. 

Two months later, in October, 1913, the next directory of Aikin Lambert’s officers is published, and William E. Smith’s name is no longer listed.  A report of November 3, 1913, states Smith was reportedly on a trip eastward to Indianapolis and Columbus, and westward towards St. Louis on behalf of Waterman, which “requires about ten days to cover.”[viii]  However, by November 24, when Fred P. Seymour of Waterman arrives in Chicago, Smith still hasn’t left Ohio.  Seymour was disappointed -- he “was expecting to meet W. E. Smith, Chicago Manager of the Waterman Co., at some point in Ohio, and proceed to Chicago with him.”[ix]

Was L.E. Waterman sending a company man to find its wandering Western manager in Ohio and escort him back to his office?  In hindsight, it was clear that the L.E. Waterman Co. no longer believed Smith was really plying the fields for Waterman business, and that Smith was planning his next career move.  When the annual Chicago Stationers’ Dinner rolled around on January 10, 1914, William Smith (whose presence was as much an annual institution as the event itself) was conspicuously absent; he did not even telegraph his regrets, as did so many other prominent members who were unavailable that evening.  L.E. Waterman, on the other hand, was well-represented at the banquet by several company men, including Seymour, and while none of them are identified as Smith’s replacement, no explanation was offered as to why L.E. Waterman’s Chicago manager failed to attend the Chicago Stationers’ Banquet.
Figure 6.  The 1914 Chicago Stationers’ Dinner, from the January 17, 1914 issue of The American Stationer, at page 4.  
Smith and Waterman had likely parted ways by that point, and Smith was laying low.  He shows up, apparently unexpectedly, on January 30, 1914 in Minneapolis, where he received a hero’s welcome at the Minneapolis Stationers’ Banquet.  “Loud and frequent calls were made to the toastmaster for an impromptu speech from the Hon. Bill Smith,” The American Stationer said in a report dated February 7, 1914.  “Men should reach the height of their ambition when they have gained the love and respect of their fellowmen, and the cheers that greeted him, when he arose to speak, echoed throughout the hall.  This silver-tongued orator held his audience in perfect silence as he related the gradual development of trade associations and effectively drove them home with wit and humor the good derived from them.”[x]

Loved, respected, silver-tongued and “Honorable.”  Smith was described as everything but a Waterman man.  Just a few days later, he would have a new title.

Colonel Smith Reports to Fort Madison

On February 14, 1914, The American Stationer reported that the “Honorable” William E. Smith had returned to Chicago and was working for the “Shafer Pen Company.”[xi]   The American Stationer reported in August, 1914, that Smith was in charge of Sheaffer’s booth at the Jewelers’ Convention in Chicago along with B.T. Coulson, the Secretary of the company at the time.[xii]  In the August report, for the first time, Smith is referred to as “Colonel,” an appellation he may have coined rather than earned through actual military service.  One wonders whether Smith, having left L.E. Waterman and his title as “Western Manager,” had been asked what his office was with Sheaffer and, having none as yet, flippantly responded with “Colonel,” a name which stuck.   This is supported not only by Smith’s unexplained promotion from “Honorable” to “Colonel,” but also by the fact that when The American Stationer casually made reference to the fact that Smith had become Sheaffer’s Chicago Office Manager in October, 1914, he was referred to only as “Mr. Smith.”[xiii]

Figure 7. The announcement from The American Stationer of William Smith’s employment by the “Shafer Pen Company.”
Walter A. Sheaffer traveled to Chicago to attend the Chicago Stationers’ Dinner with Smith in January, 1915; for Smith, it must have been a triumphant return, after missing the previous year’s event due to his separation from L.E. Waterman.  He was apparently in rare form, “with his high hat and expansive shirt bosom, dispensing good wishes and good cheer wherever he moved.”[xiv]
Smith had become a key Sheaffer employee at a pivotal moment in Sheaffer’s history.  In late January, 1915, Sheaffer returned to Chicago for a sit-down with Smith and his sales force, “to plan the year’s work and to talk over matters of interest to the company and the salesmen.”[xv]  There is no question what the first (and perhaps only) item on the agenda was for that meeting:  Sheaffer’s patent litigation with his former business partner, George Kraker, the trial of which was scheduled to begin two weeks later.  Walter Sheaffer’s position was precarious in 1915, a notion which is difficult to visualize a century later.  A summary of the innovations leading up to Sheaffer’s lawsuit with Kraker illustrates how Sheaffer’s very survival – and William Smith’s livelihood – depended on a very uncertain outcome.

Today, Walter Sheaffer remains widely credited as the inventor of the lever-filler fountain pen, but that legacy is not accurate.  The first to patent a lever-filled fountain pen in the United States was John Barnes of Rockford, Illinois, who applied for his patent on June 3, 1903 and received patent number 738,876 with lightning speed (by patent standards) on September 15, 1903.[xvi]   Patent drawings for Walter Sheaffer’s first patent, applied for on March 2, 1908, show a flat “compression plate” which slid up and down between rails mounted at the end of the barrel.  Without a spring, no tension held the lever flush with the barrel, so Sheaffer’s 1908 pen featured a locking ring to hold the lever flush with the barrel.  Sheaffer’s patent was issued as number 896,861 on August 25, 1908; on December 10, 1912, Sheaffer received patent number 1,046,660, for a better way of securing his compression plate to the bottom of the barrel, but as was the case in his 1908 design, the compression plate was also flat – leaving the lever to flop around and randomly discharge ink.  Obviously, neither design worked well.

Sheaffer’s third patent, for which he applied on February 19, 1913 (issued as patent number 1,118,240 on November 24, 1914) was for a flexible compression bar which stayed flush with the barrel wall by tension, which in turn held the lever down at rest.   When the lever was lifted, the plate would flex inward; when released, the lever would snap flush with the barrel as the plate returned to its resting position. 

Figure 8.  Walter Sheaffer’s patent number 1,118,240, which he applied for on February 19, 1913.
There was only one problem with Sheaffer’s design:  it may not have been his idea. 
Whether it was Sheaffer himself or one of his employees who devised the version of a compression bar that would make Sheaffer’s pens such a huge success may not have mattered, so long as everybody remained in Walter Sheaffer’s happy family, but they didn’t.  George Kraker and salesman Harvey Craig left Sheaffer, and the newly formed Kraker Pen Company established a factory in Kansas City, Missouri during fiscal year 1913-1914:[xvii]  Kraker applied for his own version of a lever-filled pen on February 25, 1914,[xviii] and on April 9, 1914, Craig filed an application for a lever-filler which was nearly identical to Sheaffer’s design.[xix]

Figure 9. Harvey Craig’s patent number 1,242,323, applied for on April 9, 1914. 
First to file a patent application is not necessarily the winner, and the United States Patent Office quickly began working to resolve the Interference Action (the term used for proceedings to determine which party was the true inventor in cases where conflicting patents are applied for with respect to the same innovation).  In the meantime, Sheaffer sued everybody for patent infringement – Kraker, Craig and even C.E. Barrett, the first named defendant in the litigation, whose only involvement in the affair was to supply parts to Kraker’s new company.  Kraker and Craig counterclaimed against Sheaffer, also for infringement.

Everything was on the line in this Midwestern smackdown, both for Sheaffer and for Kraker.  Whichever party was found to have infringed upon the other would not only be prevented from continuing to produce the disputed design, but would pay significant damages to the other for the infraction.  Although Sheaffer was the bigger player, that only meant the damages that could be assessed against him would likewise be greater.  As between these two, whoever prevailed in the case would likely own the other.

Presumably, Sheaffer was in Chicago to assure Smith and his staff of the company’s chances of success and continued domination of the lever-filled pen market.  On February 11, 1915, Sheaffer was back in Chicago when the trial began in the case of Walter A. Sheaffer vs. C.E. Barrett. US District Ct, Northern District of IL, Eastern Division. In Equity. No. 348.[xx] Arguments in the case would rage on for months, generating a transcript in excess of 2,000 pages.

Regardless of who won Sheaffer’s case against Kraker, the winner would not have the exclusive rights to market any lever filler fountain pen – only the version that Kraker and Sheaffer were fighting over.  What might happen if some third party came up with another, perhaps better version of the lever filler which did not violate either the Sheaffer or Kraker patents?   Was that issue raised or addressed during Sheaffer’s meeting with his Chicago staff in January?  One thing is certain:  if that question wasn’t raised in January, 1915, Smith was certainly asking it by March.

Shortly after the trial began, any reassurances Sheaffer might have offered his Chicago staff were compromised -- by none other than Smith’s former employer, L.E. Waterman.  On March 19, 1915, Edwin F. Britten, Jr. filed a patent application for a different variation of the lever filler, utilizing what we now refer to as a j-bar.  Waterman introduced the new pens under the designation “PSF” for “pocket safety filler” in the March, 1915 issue of the company’s newsletter, The Pen Prophet.[xxi]  Surviving examples of these early pens are stamped on one side of the lever with Barnes’ 1903 patent date, indicating that Waterman had purchased or licensed rights to use his invention, as well as “Patent Applied for” on the other side.

Figure 10. The pressure builds on Walter Sheaffer:  The L.E. Waterman Company’s 1915 announcement in The Pen Prophet introducing Waterman’s version of the lever-filled pen, made pursuant to a 1903 patent predating Sheaffer’s.
Smith was in a quandary:  Sheaffer may or may not survive.  Even if Sheaffer did, he would not enjoy dominance over the lever-filler, and Smith had already alienated L.E. Waterman.  To make matters worse, Smith had apparently risen as high as he could in the Sheaffer organization.   B.T. Coulson, Smith’s co-worker at the Sheaffer booth during the 1914 Chicago Jewelers’ Convention, was promoted to Vice President of the company, and Sheaffer also appointed Coulson to manage Sheaffer’s newly established office in New York.   Coulson was now Smith’s eastern counterpart for Sheaffer – but with a heftier title.  

The stationers’ press is uncharacteristically silent about Smith’s activities for most of 1915, with the exception of notations that he made sales trips to St. Louis (coincidentally or not, this was B.T. Coulson’s home) and Detroit; Sheaffer and his legal team might well have advised Smith and his staff to curtail public speaking during the trial.   But towards the end of 1915, Smith reappears in a news report of an event which, in retrospect, proved to be a moment which forever changed pen history.
On September 17, 1915, William Smith attended a dinner reception for stationers en route to San Francisco for the Pan Pacific Exposition (the 1915 Worlds’ Fair).  None of the guests were identified by their company associations, so it is unclear whether Smith was attending the dinner as a Sheaffer representative (there is a “Mr. and Mrs. Shaffer” on the guest list, which may refer to Walter Sheaffer, during which time the press was still having trouble spelling his name correctly).  What is interesting about reports of this September 17 dinner, however, is not who Smith was representing, but with whom he was dining:  Charles R. Keeran.[xxii] 

Figure 11. A fateful guest list for the September 17, 1915 Pan Pacific Exposition reception.
This was likely the first time the veteran Smith and newcomer Keeran met.  At the time, Keeran’s offices were in Bloomington and his pencils being manufactured by George W. Heath in Newark, New Jersey; in his 1928 letter he said that his trip to the Pan American Exposition was his most ambitious effort in marketing up to that point.   Keeran was actively recruiting salesmen on his San Francisco trip, and the crowd at this reception was intimate enough that there can be no doubt that the gregarious Smith and ambitious Keeran had ample time to become acquainted. 

Did Smith share with Keeran any concerns he had about Sheaffer’s future?  Did Keeran try to recruit Smith?  There is no surviving account of what the two talked about, but the events that transpired soon after certainly suggest so.  Two weeks after Keeran’s dinner with Smith, on October 1, the Wahl Adding Machine Company would begin manufacturing Keeran’s Ever Sharp pencils in his effort to keep up with the demand.  Two months after this dinner, Keeran moved his Eversharp Pencil Company from Bloomington to the Lytton Building in Chicago.[xxiii]    

Three months after this dinner, the press reported that Colonel Smith had abruptly resigned from Sheaffer after “a trip East.”  “In order that his future plans may be given the widest publicity possible in stationary circles, where he is so well known throughout the country,” the article states, “Mr. Smith has authorized The American Stationer to state that he is having better than usual returns from his chicken ranch at Norwood Park this year, and as nice fresh eggs – the kind manufactured at the Smith ranch – are selling at from six to eight cents apiece, Bill is not worried about the future.”[xxiv]
The article is clearly tongue-in-cheek:  Smith knew exactly what his next move was – it was planned during his “trip East.”  When he made that move, Smith had it all planned out to be spectacular.

Figure 12.  Just a couple weeks after this article was printed, Colonel Smith would no longer concern himself with the price of eggs. 





[i] Waterman had acquired control of Aikin Lambert & Co. by 1907, as detailed by David Nishimura at http://www.vintagepensblog.blogspot.com/2012/12/waterman-and-aikin-lambert.html.  However, Waterman kept Aikin Lambert’s product lines completely separate from its own until the early 1920s.
[ii] Parker introduced the “Lucky Lock” pencil in late 1922; Waterman first offered matching Aikin Lambert pencils with its pens in the company’s 1919 catalog, but did not develop its own pencil until 1923.
[iii]In this article, the difference between “Eversharp” and “Ever Sharp” is intentional and depends upon context.  When Charles Keeran incorporated his company as the “Eversharp Pencil Company,” he was apparently unaware that there was another company at the time marketing a different pencil called the “Eversharp” (the “Rapid Fire Eversharp,” a multi-pointed pencil).  Keeran quickly renamed his pencil the “Ever Sharp,” but he didn’t change the name of his company.  By the time Wahl began making Keeran’s pencils on its own account, the “other” Eversharp was defunct, and Wahl contracted “Eversharp” back into one word.
[iv] The Publishers’ Weekly, May 20, 1905, at page 1374.
[v] The Druggists’ Circular, January, 1907, at page 70.
[vi] The Bookseller, Newsdealer and Stationer, November 1, 1911, at page 370. 
[vii] Geyer’s Stationer, August 11, 1913, at page 10.
[viii] Geyer’s Stationer, Vol. 36, number 1409, at page 6.
[ix] Geyer’s Stationer, Vol. 36, No. 1412, at page 6.
[x] The American Stationer, February 14, 1914, at page 3.
[xi] The American Stationer, February 14, 1914, at page 6.
[xii] The American Stationer, August 29, 1914, at page 5.
[xiii] The American Stationer, October 24, 1914, at page 98.
[xiv] The American Stationer, January 16, 1915, at page 5.
[xv] The American Stationer, February 6, 1915, at page 6.  The report is dated February 1, and states that Sheaffer was in town “the first of the week.”
[xvi] As the Court noted in Barrett v. Sheaffer., 251 F.Rep. at 75, there was also the “Swedish Patent to Johansson, No. 5,380, issued August 18, 1894.”
[xvii] Congressional Serial Set Volume 22, page 107.
[xviii] The patent was issued on August 15, 1916 as number 1,194,510.
[xix] Craig’s patent wasn’t issued until October 9, 1917 as number 1,242,323.
[xx]Nishimura, David, “New Evidence for the Early History of the Sheaffer Pen Company: Introduction & Notes [2001], http://www.vintagepens.com/first_Sheaffers_intro.htm.
[xxii] Walden’s Stationer and Printer, October 11, 1915, at page 39.
[xxiii] Typewriter Topics, November, 1915, at page 178.
[xxiv] The American Stationer, December 18, 1915, at page 30.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

My Christmas Gift to You

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

I give you a fact that, for whatever reason, people are having a hard time accepting: that the Carter’s Ink Company purchased DeWitt-LaFrance.  I don’t know why, but several times when the subject has come up in conversation, that statement is met with “well, the clips kind of look similar maybe” or “well, there might have been some relationship between them.” 

So, I give you the ability to bet someone a quarter then show them this article.

Some day I’ll find a hard copy of the 1925 volume of Office Appliances and reproduce the entire news article here – online searches of post-1922 documents are limited to those confounded “snippet views” that limit viewing for copyright reasons.  But here it is, published in 1925 - as much of it as I can piece together for you:


“Carter’s Ink Company Adds Fountain Pens and Pencils - Famous Boston House Buys Business of DeWitt-LaFrance Company, Makers of Fountain Pens and Propelling Pencils, and Enters Actively into This Field . . . “

Saturday, December 24, 2016

My Working Theory

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

I’ve posted several articles here over the years about Rex’s connections within the mechanical pencil industry - how they started with small metal pencils made for several smaller quality companies, graduated to plastics, then secured contracts with big boys Sears and Montgomery Ward, with their fingerprints turning up on products across the company . . .


Only to vanish, with Parker taking its place and the short-lived Tri-Pen Manufacturing Company rising from its ashes, and the Triangle Pencil Company in turn rising from Tri-Pen.

Huh.  All those articles and years of research, and two paragraphs about covers the story so far.  I must talk too much.

Still, there’s one detail in all of this which doesn’t make any sense: if Rex was making so many brands of 1920s pencils (and maybe even the matching pens), why did the company disappear so quickly?  One theory is that the onset of the Depression after the stock market crash of 1929 crippled the company and it simply failed . . . but I don’t think so.  While the Depression likely ended Tri-Pen and the Triad, that came after Rex – and Rex’s most prolific customers, Sears and Montgomery Ward, survived the Depression and continued to offer the same brands, such as Diamond Medal, Gold Medal, Webster and Gold Bond – just made by someone else.  Something catastrophic must have happened to Rex.

I think I’ve had the answer.   It comes from a patent you are well familiar with, issued on September 5, 1916:


Parker’s familiar washer clip – sort of (note the doohickey curl at the top which wasn’t used in production) was patented by William E. Moore, who applied for it on May 24, 1916 and received patent number 1,197,224 on September 5, which was assigned to The Parker Pen Company . . . for a “fountain pen cap.”  Did Parker claim the rights for this clip used in conjunction with any other sort of writing instrument?


Not according to Moore’s claims.  No where does he suggest that his clip assembly was intended for use on anything other than fountain pens –  maybe that’s where Rex got the idea that sandwiching a washer clip into the mechanisms on its pencils might be fair game and maybe that’s where the United States Patent Office got the idea that there wasn’t any interference between the Moore patent and the four patents ultimately assigned to Rex.

Did this issue ever come to a head?  Yes it did.  I stumbled across a court decision while I was researching the Rex Manufacturing Company: Parker Pen Company v. Rex Manufacturing Company, 11 F.2d 533 (District Court Rhode Island, 1926).  That decision reports that Parker filed suit against Rex alleging patent infringement on September 11, 1925; this decision was issued six month later, on March 6, 1926, but it merely resolved a procedural issue, without reaching the merits of the question of whether the Rex clips infringed upon Parker’s patent.  What was the outcome of the litigation, and when was it resolved?  I don’t know - it would probably require a trip to the National Archives to retrieve the old case file to be sure.

The 1926 patent dates on the “four horsemen” marked Rex pencils are a relatively common sight, suggesting they were produced in large numbers during their short run.  The 1930 Montgomery Ward catalog shows pencils of the “newest type” which do not have Rex’ patent features:


Parker sues Rex for patent infringement in late 1925; the case is still moving along in 1926; the Rex “four horsemen” pencils disappear; Parker starts making rebadged pencils for Sears and Montgomery Ward.  The patent case is the piece that seems to tie everything together perfectly.

Friday, December 23, 2016

One Heckuva Imprint

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

This one turned up at the Ohio Show - I can’t remember who had it:


It’s an Edison with a wonderful imprint:


This one appears to have the lines of an early Rex product, which I would expect, since I’ve found an Edison from the “four horsemen” family of Rex pencils - see http://leadheadpencils.blogspot.com/2015/01/two-out-of-four-horsemen-aint-bad.html).  It also has a mysterious portal on the side of the barrel:


It’s similar to the one found near the bottom of the barrel of an Artcraft I wrote about some time ago – also from the Rex family (that article was posted at http://leadheadpencils.blogspot.com/2013/07/rex-redux.html):


On the cap of the Edison, there’s what I believe is a model number assigned by Rex itself:


“20ER.”  Suppose this was a Rex model 20, made for Edison (E), in a ringtop (R)?

Thursday, December 22, 2016

This Would Have Been Nice to Show You

This article has been edited and included in The Leadhead's Pencil Blog Volume 4; copies are available print on demand through Amazon here, and I offer an ebook version in pdf format at the Legendary Lead Company here.

If you don't want the book but you enjoy this article, please consider supporting the Blog project here.

One of the biggest messes I’ve written about here was spurred by my research into a pencil marked “Bonnwear,” which led me into a tangled web of connections between several manufacturers, including Eclipse, Diamond Point and Sheaffer (the following day’s installment dragged the enigmatic “Ever-Rite” into the mix, as well - the story started at 
http://leadheadpencils.blogspot.com/2014/10/wear-it-well.html).

No, I haven’t sorted things out any more clearly than I did at the time.  But I did find something that would have made for a more convincing visual aid for part of that story.

I don’t think I left any question that pens and pencils marked “Safety” on the clip were made by Eclipse – not with the trademark registration and advertisements included in that prior article.  But what I lacked was an example, such as this one:


This one turned up at the Ohio Show:


And when it is poised alongside a Fin-Sharp (named by the clever founder of Eclipse, Marx Finstone) and an Eclipse, these pictures could have accomplished what quite a few more words did before:



I know.  I need a gold filled Eclipse.  Sheesh - call me OCD, will you?