I don’t write about Blackbirds often enough. I have three at the moment and should be uploading them to the sales site shortly.
This is a rather plain one and it has seen quite a bit of use judging by the wear on the chasing. It’s none the worse for that, a true veteran and a splendid writer.
I’m not quite sure of the date of these Blackbirds. They seem to have been in production in this form for quite a long time.It’s referred to as a “fountpen” and that suggests the twenties to me.
The nib is semi-flexible. Blackbird nibs are thinner than Swan ones and are therefore more easily damaged. Spare Blackbird nibs are very hard to come by.
The pen came to me in this splendid box which is as fresh and clean as if it was new. Considering how well-used the pen is, I’m not sure that pen and box began together. I suppose it’s possible if the box was stored carefully for the years that the pen was kept busy.
I don’t recognise the four-pointed star on the accommodation clip.
These clips are often so stiff and unbending that it must have been difficult enough to attach them to a shirt, never mind a jacket. This one isn’t too bad, requiring only superhuman strength to apply it.
I bought this pen as damaged goods – a broken clip – and on arrival I found that it was even more damaged than had been indicated. There is a 4 mm lateral crack on the side of the cap away from the clip and another the same size on the cap lip. It had also been used as a punch at some time as there are dents on the base of the barrel and the top of the cap. I tried to evaluate whether this pen could be saved or whether it was a collection of parts.
I decided that if I could remove the clip stub I would restore the pen as best I can. I have to leave the cracks as they are as I don’t use MEK for health reasons. Short pieces of clip are always difficult. Failing all else, I will drill a small hole in what still protrudes, pass a wire through it and pull it out that way. To my surprise, however, this piece came out moderately easily with heat and pliers.
I salvaged another goldplated clip from a broken cap and fitted it. I cleaned the pen internally and externally and fitted a new sac. The nib needed a tiny bit of tine alignment. It is distinctly flexible, as is usually the case with these pens.
Had this been a black pen, or indeed anything less striking than this Russet and Jade pattern the pen would undoubtedly have been parts, but look at these glowing colours! Doesn’t this deserve a second chance?
This set dates to 1949. The pen is a Leverless filler and the pencil has lead and works well. They are excellent instruments but what interests me most is the box! I have never come across a Swan box like this before, textured and patterned cardboard with gold piping, it looks rather more like a Conway Stewart box. Definitely a Swan box though as it says so on the inner lid.
The part of the box that the pen and pencil sit in was lined in imitation velvet and like other similar boxes of this age the material has started to come apart leaving the pen and pencil covered in a fine velvet dust. Never mind, the pen and pencil are like they were made yesterday.
Having written about trench pens recently I am glad to be able to show this splendid example, the Swan Military. The ink pellets are stored in the base of the barrel but unlike other examples the blind cap does not need to be removed, just slid out to allow access to the pellets.
The pen is in what appears to be in used condition. The nib is flexible and, uncommonly, is marked “Toronto”. Swan nibs issued from that city are unusual but not unknown.
As I said previously trench pens are truly rare. Some were doubtless lost or destroyed in action but I think the conclusion is inescapable that they did not sell well. The pellets did, of course, but they could be applied equally well to any pen of the time.
There is much interest in trench pens though and between that and the shortage of supply together with its fine condition this is a very valuable pen.
Many thanks to Rob Parsons for pictures and information.
Much has been written about the World War I Trench Pen and the ink pellets that supplied it. While it seems an eminently practical idea, the present-day rarity of such pens suggests that it never really caught on. Several US manufacturers made them. Some, like the Parker and Moore versions held pellets in an extended blind cap, others like the Diamond Point held them in a chamber at the top of the cap. The Swan Military, holding the pellets in a compartment at the base of the barrel, was, so far as I can establish, the only British manufacturer of Trench Pens though pellets were made by several companies including Onoto.
Perhaps one reason why Trench Pens were not made in great numbers is because the provision of a pellet container in the pen is not that great an advantage when one sees the tiny boxes that pellets were sold in. It didn’t exactly take up a great amount of room in a soldier’s pack and it is likely that he already had an eyedropper filler which would work perfectly well with the pellet.
Powdered inks were already available and continued to be used in businesses and classrooms at least up until the 1950s. The pellet is just a step further. Some pellets dissolved to make an ounce of ink, too much just to fill one pen. It seems likely that they were just another ink delivery system already in use before World War I and adapted to suit military needs. The British Postmaster General prohibited the shipping of bottles of liquid ink to the front and it may well be that US authorities took a similar line. Tiny tins of World War I ink pellets can still be found today. Some manufacturers, such as Visconti, have made ink pellets in modern times.
My husband tells me there is a discussion about restoration in Fountain Pen Network. He isn’t taking part in it as they are somewhat dogmatic and a trifle hot-headed. The consensus seems to be that the definition of restoration is to return the pen to new condition. As I’m sure you are aware, I take a different view. I have always made it clear that I do no more than is necessary to make the pen in working condition, clean, gently polished and with such faults as scratches and bite marks removed wherever possible. I don’t re-black or do gold-plating.
My view is that as old pens, often very old pens, there is a balance between restoring to use and honourably showing their age. Not many pens are in a condition to be restored to like new. I have seen the results of attempting to do this with worn pens and it isn’t pretty. Many of the pens I present for sale, of course, look very good. Chased celluloid pens restore especially well, and those black hard rubber or mottled pens that have not faded or worn too much can naturally look splendid. That’s quite a contrast with the poor things that have suffered the buffing machine for far too long!
There must, at least, be some people who agree with my conservative restoration as my pens are in demand and have been for eleven years now. I suppose my method falls between those conservators who see every scratch as bearing historical significance and the restorers who overdo it. I have some sympathy for the view that a pen should be left as it is, so far as possible, but I also accept that no one wants a really ugly pen.
I am aware of three or four eBay sellers with a strong following who make a beautiful job of restoring pens to new condition. Their pens sell for very high prices. Their way is not my way but I admire what they do. The discussion of restoration is one that will attract varying views. It may continue unresolved for ever.
You may remember the Fountain Pen Revolution Darjeeling that I wrote about recently, fitted with a successful modern flexible nib. It is a pleasant and useful pen, though not absolutely faultless.
I found that whether using flex or not, it began to dry up at about half of an A4 page. I am sure that problem could be solved with some dickering. It would not do to be over critical; even Swan and Waterman classics can suffer from drought when deploying flex.
As I have said – probably many times – I’m not a flex fan so I have no use for this pen. I will be happy to pass it on, free of charge, to the first reader who requests it. It will be good – though not a condition – if the recipient would let me know about their experience with the pen.
Edit: The pen has been awarded to the first applicant. My commiserations to those unsuccessful.
I am indebted to Andrew Hooper who kindly indicated these interesting items to me. They are at present displayed on an auction site.
These are a dagger and a compass in the guise of fountain pens, and were provided for the use of undercover agents in World War II. Many of us will be aware of Platignum versions. This dagger pen was made in England but I cannot be sure of the manufacturer. The compass is placed in a foreign-made pen. Unfortunately none of the pictures actually show the compass. I guess that it is attached to the inside of the section.
They are an interesting insight into a not very distant world of espionage and sabotage. I can imagine that the compass would be immediately consulted by an agent parachuted into occupied France, for instance, but were the daggers ever used? This one looks capable enough!
The Platignum versions appear to have been made in that factory. This compass appears to have been added later to a normal pen. This hints at a Q-like technician in a room full of lethal gadgets.
Fountain pens are, of course, no longer expected to be in everyone’s pocket. The most recent lethal delivery system (that we are aware of) was an umbrella. It’s sad that fountain pens are even superseded as a means of killing people!
My apologies for the photos. I borrowed them from the auction site.