VISITORS to the typewriter museum invariably express astonishment when the origin of the “Shift” key on a computer keyboard is demonstrated to them. I point it out by shifting the carriage on my 1878 Remington No 2 standard typewriter, the first model capable of producing type in upper and lower case letters. Of course, hardly any of the hundreds of millions of people who press a “Shift” key dozens of times on an hourly basis ever stop to wonder: “Why is it called a ‘Shift’ key? It doesn’t shift anything.”
But let’s get back to the “upper and lower case letters” conversation. Having haunted a printing works from the age of 10, in 1958, I’ve been familiar with typesetter’s cases for going on toward 70 years. Yet it’s still difficult to explain, especially to people who have never seen such a case, why these wonderful creations offer the answer to the enigma of QWERTY. (Mark Twain, once himself a newspaper typesetter, picked up the clue the first time he ever used a QWERTY keyboard – on a Sholes and Glidden typewriter back in 1874.) Latham Sholes’s son Louis told ‘Typewriter Topics’ in May 1909 that he and his father “went to work to study out an arrangement by which the ‘printers’ lower case’ could be adjusted to the use of both hands and all fingers, resulting in the keyboard [QWERTY] now universally adopted by the standard makers.”
Last week, I came across what I’ve long felt the need to use when trying to describe where the terms “upper case” and “lower case” letters come from – an old wood engraving. On a research trip to Uralla in the Northern Tablelands of New South Wales, my wife and I came across one of those bookshops one usually only gets to see in dreams. It’s called Burnet’s Books and it’s run by a former Eton College teacher on Bridge Street in Uralla. On the footpath outside, night and day (at night only honesty payments are possible), Ross Burnett had a stack of volumes of the 1880 ‘Chambers’s Encyclopædia: A Dictionary of Universal Knowledge for the People, Illustrated with Maps and Numerous Wood Engravings’. I choose Volume XI, because it included entries under the general heading of “Type”, and left my $5 beside the stack.
Here, then, is the description of typesetting. It explains exactly what Louis Sholes told ‘Typewriter Topics’ about the origin of QWERTY, in New York City 29 years after this volume was published. “In the lower [case], no alphabetical arrangement is preserved; each letter has a larger or smaller box allotted to it, according as it is more or less frequently required; and all those letters most in request are placed at the nearest convenient distance to the compositor. By this ingenious and irregular division of the lower cases, much time is saved to the compositor, who requires no label to direct him to the spot where lies the particular letter he wants. To a stranger, nothing appears so remarkable as the rapidity with which a compositor does his work; but habit very soon leads the hands rapidly and mechanically to the letter required.”
Remind you of anything?





4 comments:
Wonderful, Robert.
This post brings back memories of 7th grade print shop where we learned to set type and run job (letterpress) presses. fun times that let to a short stint at the local newspaper setting type for small jobs, running presses, and mostly cleaning the shop in return to learn some of the printing business.
Now, I need to get out my Remington portable 2 and see if I can jam the type bars.
Good to see you post again!
Ah! Now I see the inspiration from typecases. That makes sense. But, QWERTY doesn't correlate very well with English / US typecase layouts. E.g. the California Job Case, which would be primarily in use at the time, has j, b, c, d, k, e, l, m, n, h, x, z, q, v, u, t on the left, and i, s, f, g, o, y, p, w, a, r on the right. Do we know why Sholes translated the typeface to the keyboard so differently?
In reply to Rob: maybe Sholes's familiarity with the printer's typecase gave him a sense of the most common letters in English. But then his next step was to determine the most common two-letter *combinations* and try to separate those pairs of typebars so they wouldn't clash and jam. That's the old theory, anyway, and I think it's been borne out rather well.
You are absolutely correct Richard, as Current's book points out. Sholes and Densmore worked together and were conscious of avoiding clashes with common combinations as they moved away from A-Z.
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