Getting ready for my talk on November 12th at Type Americana in Seattle.
I’ll be speaking about Linn Boyd Benton at this conference, and Juliet Shen will talk about Morris Fuller Benton.
Yesterday I went in to the Cary Collection at RIT to look through my Benton files once more. I found an old xerox copy of a photograph of Boyd Benton (as he was called) at the age of 20, but it didn’t have the sparkle of the photograph we used on the Type Americana website (see below). One of the things I want to discuss in Seattle is how happy Linn Boyd Benton was at his type foundry in Milwaukee. It’s a conjecture on my part, perhaps, but one that has been corroborated by (and in fact suggested to me by) Benton’s great-grandson. Benton invented the punch engraving machine there, in order to more quickly produce fonts of his other new invention, the so-called self-spacing types. He had been working on a different invention, a justifying machine, but when the type he designed for it appeared to be marketable in itself, he switched gears and poured all of his efforts into getting his self-spacing types to market as quickly as possible. It must have been an exciting time.
Boyd Benton had a rich, full life in Milwaukee. He was very happily married, and although his son Morris was a sickly child, the family took good care of him and eventually he overcame the after-effects of the scarlet fever and other illnesses he had had as a young boy. Boyd had a fine baritone voice, and sang as a soloist in St. James and St. Paul Episcopal Churches in Milwaukee. He and his wife also belonged to a singing society, and took part in a number of Gilbert and Sullivan and other light operas.
I also want to share several anecdotes about Boyd Benton’s childhood at the conference, because they reveal his unusual character. More later . . .
Linn Boyd Benton’s No. 55 matrix engraver, as described in the American Machinist for December 16, 1909, consists of “two housings between which swings a long pendulum or arm … delicately suspended in a compound yoke by means of gimbal screws which gives it a toggle-joint effect.”
At the Dale Type Foundry last Saturday, the No. 55 was in the middle of a job. The grease around the machine’s cutting tool (which spins like a dentist’s drill at a speed of 8,000 to 10,000 revolutions per minute) seemed ready to splash onto the empty cutting platform (the matrix jig had been removed), and had even spilled over into the bowl of the yoke above the pendulum arm. “Wow,” I thought. “This machine is really being used. It really works.”
The empty cutting platform.
I visited the Dale Type Foundry on a Saturday, which was great because no one was working and it was quiet enough to talk to Theo Rehak about the machines. Here were the inventions I had been thinking about for years. I went around the foundry announcing to my son Roger what they were. “Here is a stereotyping set-up; this is a fitting machine; there’s the horizontal Benton engraving machine.” Even though I had visited ATF in 1984 and taken photographs of a row of matrix engravers at that time, last Saturday was completely different. I held a follower in my own hand and traced around the outline of a 16-point Tory Text “H,” designed by Frederic Goudy in 1935. That’s a complicated letter!
I held a “quill” assembly (they hold the cutting tools), and then looked at the point of its cutting tool through the foundry’s Louis Pasteur-type measuring microscope from the 1890s (all cast iron). The measuring microscope magnifies the point of a cutting tool so that you can tell whether it needs to be re-ground.
“Across the center of the face or lens of the microscope, is arranged a fine scale [ruled] in [increments of] 0.0005 of an inch,” the American Machinist explained. This is about half the thickness of a cigarette paper. A cutting tool looks like a heavy nail under this microscope, and so the cutting tools can easily be gauged by eye—the 0.080-inch tool covers 160 lines on the scale, and the 0.001-inch tool covers two lines. The point of the cutting tool we looked at covered seven lines.
More later …