A. N. Palmer, at that time one of the most famous penmanship experts in America, replied graciously to Detterer, with a personal letter.

Ernst F. Detterer was a typographer, an amateur calligrapher, an instructor at the Art Institute of Chicago, and later a curator at the Newberry Library. In 1913 he studied briefly with Edward Johnston (a British calligrapher who tried to revive medieval lettering arts in the 20th century).

It seems unlikely that Detterer and Palmer would have had any connection at all, but here it is.

To the best of my knowledge, this letter by Palmer has never been published before. I found it listed in the Newberry Library catalog. It is a digital scan of a photocopy, of a “verifax reproduction (positive)” of the original typewritten letter. That’s quite a few layers of reproduction, so for easier reading you might want to read the transcription instead of the original.

Detterer’s article contains several blunders, and many factual errors. Palmer responded with humility, tact, and patience, but some of Palmer’s basic views on the history of penmanship were as erroneous as Detterer’s. (More on this later.)

Mar. 30, 2009 — Can you decipher the three words shown above? They were written in cursive Italic handwriting, nearly five centuries ago, by one of the greatest experts in this hand, Gerardus Mercator. If you need help decoding this loopy Italic cursive, click on the image.

I’ve finished reading Script & Scribble, a new book about the history of handwriting, by Kitty Burns Florey. She gets many of her facts wrong, but for the most part she has nice things to say about traditional American penmanship — that is, until she jumps off the deep end in the final chapter and claims that modern Italic handwriting is far superior to American cursive styles. Her criticisms are presented amateurishly, comparing poor examples of “loopy cursive” with clearly written, semi-cursive Italic, and repeating the clichés and biased opinions of Italic handwriting experts. (Opposing views were not included.)

The real “penmanship wars” lasted for centuries, but this strife ended long ago. Serious penmanship pedagogy, in American schools, was dead and buried by circa 1940–1960 (a bit later in some places), and yet our modern Italic enthusiasts struggle along to this day, like abandoned soldiers on a forgotten island.

They criticize penmanship methods they know little or nothing about, but they never see the inherent flaws and weaknesses of Italic handwriting, of which there are many.

As Charles P. Zaner (1864-1918) emphasized, all handwriting styles have their strengths and weaknesses — therefore it’s silly to get hung up on a particular style, and to belittle other approaches.

Feb. 28, 2009 — Cross-writing is a technique for saving writing paper. It was used mostly in the 19th century. After a page of writing had been completed – or usually after both sides of a sheet were filled in – then the writer turned the page 90 degrees and continued, adding a second layer of text, perpendicular to the first. Cross-writing is surprisingly easy to read, as a reader’s mind naturally tunes out the irrelevant lines. (Further layers of text are possible, at other angles, but this reduces legibility very quickly.)

This is a sample of Charles Darwin’s cross-writing, from 1828.

And here is another sample of cross-writing — by my great-great grand-uncle, James Charles Andrews (1839-1886). He studied medicine and received a degree, but he never practiced medicine. He was a Quaker, a commissioned officer in the Civil War, a factory owner, and a banker. His handwriting seems, at first glance, like an example of “Spencerian scribbling” — but it’s actually the smooth, rapid hand of a mature writer, someone with a solid grounding in formal penmanship.

Many people disapproved of cross-writing. Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson) wrote: “When you get to the end of a notesheet, and find you have more to say, take another piece of paper – a whole sheet, or a scrap, as the case may demand, but whatever you do, don’t cross! Remember the old proverb ‘Cross-writing makes cross-reading.’ ‘The old proverb?’ you say inquiringly. ‘How old?’ Well, not so very ancient, I must confess. In fact – I’m afraid I invented it while writing this paragraph.” (From: Eight or Nine Wise Words About Letter-Writing, 1890.)

Today most calligraphers work slowly, but a few cutting-edge scribes are once again emphasizing rhythm and speed. See, for example, this short video by Denis Brown on YouTube (2:10).

Writing contraptions like the one below were generally not recommended by serious teachers of penmanship in the 19th century. The only clear road to success was thought to be: personal instruction from experts, lots of practice (hundreds of hours), and youth (start ’em young).

Despite the silliness of this “Chirographic Vibrator” (more like a large “Calligraphic RUBBER BAND” plus hook), mounted on a “Revolving Writing Cabinet” (containing a scroll), the descriptions are fun, so here they are:

Revolving Writing Cabinet

“Contains a full set of copy lines, comprising books 1, 2, and 3 of the Writing Book Series, mounted on a continuous sheet upon Rollers, so adjusted as to exhibit but one line at a time and in regular succession, by simply turning a knob at the side. It is furnished with Compartments for containing Pens, Inkstand, Pencils, Blotter, and Writing Pad, ruled to fit the Copies. It also contains the Chirographic Vibrator for suspending, balancing and vibrating the Hand in writing; a valuable help in acquiring Movement. A valuable PRESENT to any child at any Season. (Patented June 23, 1885.)”

The Chirographic Vibrator

“For imparting the vibratory [= elastic] movements of Penmanship to the Learner and an aid to Pen Holding. Size 7 x 11 inches. (Patented June 23, 1885.) — This device is the result of accumulated experience in teaching penmanship and puts the learner at once on the road to mastery of this valuable art. — It consists of a metal upright standard terminating in a hook not unlike a shepherd’s crook, from which depends a loop of elastic cord, to the end of which is attached a wooden perch, which is grasped in the hand so as to allow the supporting cord to pass between the fingers, while its near end, projecting from the hand, supports the penholder against the side of the forefinger. A second elastic cord may be attached to the base of the standard and the perch, for securing the projective motion known as Muscular. This is a valuable adjunct to every desk, where writing is taught.”

Matrimonial Penmanship

A knowledge of the art of deducing character from handwriting is especially valuable for those who are contemplating matrimony, or in the choice of friends or acquaintances. In fact, the calligraphy of one’s intended becomes, as it were, a semaphore, flashing its signals of safety or danger to anyone who will accept its message.

— William Leslie French, Woman’s World, April, 1914.

He Married the Girl Because Her Handwriting “Charmed” Him

Miss Hannah Sperber, of No. 460 Grand Street, became the bride today of Benjamin H. Cohen, a young businessman, who fell in love when he saw her handwriting in a letter seven years ago, when she was a girl of fifteen, and he was nineteen years of age.

Cohen saw the letter, which had been written to a friend, Miss May Cousins, of Brooklyn. He was told the writer was a girl living in San Francisco. “I’m going to marry that girl some day,” the youth said. “I don’t care how much you laugh at me; that handwriting has charmed me.”

Cohen wrote. In time photographs were exchanged. Then, somehow, Hannah persuaded her parents to come to live in New York.

The marriage ceremony was performed by Rabbi Heller.

— New York Journal, June 5, 1914.