Pen Collectors of America

Keeping The History of Writing Instruments Alive Through Member Support and Community Education

Birth of a Myth

by WILLIAM WALDEN
All rights reserved by the author.

CartoonThe Fountain Pen Is Invented, August 13, 1883 Cartoon in New York Tribune, August 13, 1916. Evidently the artist does not use a Waterman's ideal. As published in Pen Fancier's Magazine

ACCORDING TO THE LEGENDS, THOMAS EDISON tested over two thousand materials in search of a suitable filament for the electric light bulb, James Watt invented the steam engine after watching a kettle boil, and Isaac Newton formulated the law of gravitation after seeing an apple fall from a tree.

How much truth exists in these and other stories involving a significant invention or discovery is problematic. But since an element of myth seems an almost obligatory accompaniment, it's not surprising that a legend surrounds Lewis Waterman's invention of an improved fountain pen. The by now well- known story, repeated with variations over many years, relates that when Waterman, an insurance solicitor, handed his pen to a prospect to sign a policy for a large sum, the pen flooded onto the policy and the test client gave his business to a rival agent. Waterman, "sorely wounded in pocket and ego" (according to one account), quit life insurance and applied his talents to the invention of a practical fountain pen.

This colorful incident lends drama and urgency to Waterman's motivation, but like Waterman's improved pen, it seems to have been invented. To the best of my knowledge, this story surfaced in print for the first time in the September, 1956, issue of Popular Science, more than 70 years after its supposed occurrence. It offered a theatrical scene admirably suited to folk lore a lucrative impending sale, sudden catastrophe, enormous frustration, and the birth of a single-minded purpose that eventually led to success.

...a legend surrounds Lewis Waterman's
invention of the fountain pen .....
It offered a theatrical scene admirably suited to folk lore.

That same month, Reader's Digest reprinted the Popular Science article. The almost simultaneous appear-ance in two reputable publications of the leaking pen incident lent it authenticity. An article in Newsweek two years later repeated the story, which it charac-terized as a salesman's nightmare, but made a few changes. It backpedaled the incident from 1884 to 1874, which allowed Waterman ten years to work on his improvement, it swelled the leaking pen to a torrent, and it described Waterman's reaction as outraged. The article also added that he went to work on his kitchen table and produced "a thinner tube and air vents into the chamber to regulate the ink flow."

These new touches didn't appear in subsequent accounts. But in 1985, Americana Magazine's description of the episode stated that the pen-flooding had cost Waterman a "hefty" commission and that he "discovered that a narrow opening in the pen point would allow ink to flow smoothly from barrel to tip." It said nothing about a spoon feed or a thinner tube.

Variations on the theme continued to appear in sub-sequent accounts. Collector's Guide for June, 1988, adhered more or less to the standard version, hut related that the flooding occurred after Waterman had achieved "a particularly difficult sale, and sug-gested that his improvement consisted of developing a "reservoir pen." (Reservoir pens had existed for centuries)

Later that year, Newsday Magazine got into the act. It moved the episode back a year to 1883, stated that Waterman's invention utilized capillary action, and credit-ed him with realizing that inventing a fountain pen that didn't leak all over documents might be turned into a better business than the one he was in.

By now the changes and additions to the original story resembled an old parlor game, in which one person whispers and odd-sounding word to another person, who whispers it to another, arid so on, with unintended corruptions taking place along the way, so that what the final member in the chain utters aloud bears almost no resemblance to what the first listener heard. In 1989, an account in The Rotarian repeated the by now obligatory story, alluding to a "drenched" contract. It did not mention air vents, a narrow opening in the pen point, capillary action, or reservoirs, but called the innovation an improved feed.
That same year, Country Home put in its oar. Its article backtracked the dousing event to 1882 and tossed in a comic-strip "Splotch!" to italicize the spilling of ink on the document.

Finally, an article in Antiques and Collectible Magazine in December 1990 showed awareness of the contradictory variations by tiptoeing delicately around the details. It included the traditional eruption of ink that ruined the deal but avoided specifics on the nature of Waterman's improvement, playing it safe by confining itself to the unexceptionable remark, "Out of frustration, Waterman developed a reliable fountain pen of his own design."

My suspicion that the flooding-pen story is pure myth springs from an early account that appeared in the Harper's Weekly issue of February 1, 1905:

Mr. Waterman early in life was an insur-ance solicitor. He wanted pen and ink frequently for use on the spur of the moment. Get the man to sign at once is the cardinal principle of that calling. So as not to lose a customer at a critical moment he used to carry in his pocket a pen in a case and a small bottle of ink. The ink would give out occasionally and the pen would rarely be exactly suited for the customer, and he set himself to devise a pen with ink in the holder that would read-ily do the required work. Mr. Waterman solved the difficult problem by inventing what is known as the "spoon fèed." It is a simple contrivance, but takes heed of and applies scientjfically one of nature's great laws, that of capillary attraction.

AdThis straightforward, undramatic description of the circumstances leading to Waterman's invention makes no mention of a flooding pen, angry client, or loss of contract. And the reason it refrains seems obvious to me: the supposed episode never happened. An attempt to foist such a story on the public in 1905 could have been challenged by dozens of former friends and acquaintances of Waterman, who died in 1901. But by 1956, when Popular Science published the story, those people were safely and conveniently dead.

The prosecution rests.