Author: goodwriterspens

The Mabie Todd Blackbird Self-Filling Pen 1914-1925

In the hierarchy of Mabie Todd pens, Swan was the top and Blackbird came next. There must have been a degree of crossover though, in price at least, at the bottom of the Swan range and the top of the Blackbirds. The decision to buy a Blackbird might not just have been made on price alone, but on actual preference for the style of the pen, because there have always been some pretty nice Blackbirds. This Blackbird Self-Filling Pen, made in the years 1914 to 1925, isn’t exactly an economy model. True, the barrel bands are plated rather than solid gold as they might have been from the middle of the Swan range upwards, but it is nonetheless a prestigious pen.

These no-number Self-Filling Pens closely resemble the BB2/60. They pre-date that model, but, so far as I can see, they overlap and must have been on sale at the same time by the 1920s. They’re not quite the same; the shape of the cap differs slightly, with the Self-Filling Pen’s cap tapering more elegantly toward the barrel. This particular example was well but carefully used. Though there is some wear on the rearmost barrel band, otherwise the pen is immaculate and the black chased hard rubber is unfaded. It is a large pen, measuring 13.5cm capped and 16.4cm posted. As usual with Blackbirds of this period, the manufacturing quality of the barrel, cap, section and feed is the equal of any Swan, but a saving is made on the nib. Blackbird nibs are shorter in the shank than Swan nibs and the gold is thinner. In use, they are superb nibs, almost invariably with some degree of flexibility, but a light touch is advised because with the thinner material it is possible to bend or crack the nib.

These early Blackbirds are among the great flat-top classics. Many are, like this one, clipless but some have inserted clips. I’ve even seen a couple with riveted clips, and I suspect that these were after-market add-ons. Big, but light and well-balanced, these pens make practical and enjoyable daily writers.

Modern Nibs: The Dissenting View

There may well be some among those of you who read these witless ramblings of mine who buy modern pens as well as old ones, or even (heaven forfend) only buy new pens. If you count yourself among this number, stop reading now. Pass by on the other side of the road and don’t look. It’s going to get messy in here and it will upset you. Why expose yourself to that?

Almost all of my interest in – indeed, obsession with – writing instruments resides in those made before the ballpoint watershed: around 1965 or 1970. After that, whether at work or at home, whenever you needed to jot something down, you reached for a ballpoint pen, and such fountain pens as continued to be produced were no longer quite the same as they had been. The market became a collection of niches: pens were made for school students, for people of a resolutely conservative nature and for collectors. The very economic basis of pen production changed. I would contend that the nature of the pens produced changed too. The mainstream primary writing instrument form of fountain pen had gone, never to return.

There are a number of problems with modern fountain pens that I could take issue with (and may on a future occasion) but they all pale into insignificance compared with the worst one: nibs. Many, indeed most, modern nibs are as rigid as a ploughshare and just about as thick. Often they are unnecessarily large. This, I suspect, is to provide a surface for the badly-executed, childish curlicue engravings that deface almost all modern nibs. The most egregious fault, though, is the application of a huge, globular blob of tipping material. I look at these spherical tips and fear that the stocks of rare platinum-group metals they are composed of will not see out the decade. Maybe not even the year.

It is as if these nibs were made by someone who had never actually seen a nib, but had had one described to them, though not particularly well. They have many of the characteristics of a traditional nib, and even look like one, from a distance, if you half-close your eyes. They do, in many cases, get the ink from the reservoir to the paper but that’s about it. Because of that tipping blob and their rigidity, they write like a ballpoint, in both feel and line. My view would be that if you want to write like that, stick with the ballpoint. It’s better at it. Why, one asks, have nibs come to this? The answers seem to be (a) cost and (b) demand. We are told that it would be too expensive now to produce a nib of yesteryear. Frankly, I dismiss that argument. Modern pens cost a lot. In moments of foolishness (to which I am prone) I have bought a few. All have cost more than my television set. Many cost more than good second-hand motorbikes I’ve bought. At those prices they could hand-make the nib from smelting the metal up to the final polish and still have a monstrous margin. Secondly, we’re told that people don’t want nibs of character or flexibility. They want pens that write like ballpoints. That’s what they’re used to and they would break a more delicate nib. That’s a little insulting to the fountain pen user, isn’t it? I know quite a few pen people. They’re generally intelligent and have pretty good manual dexterity. This argument, it seems to me, goes along with the one that says that writing with a flexible nib is incredibly difficult, requiring the precision of hand and lightness of touch of a brain surgeon. These are bogeyman tales told to frighten fountain pen buyers away from demanding that manufacturers make a decent nib, it seems to me.

Instead, having re-mortgaged their house to buy the latest Italian or Japanese offering, the poor fountain pen user must spend even more money to have the pen made usable. He sends it away and waits six months until the “nibmeister” of choice deigns to hack at his precious nib with a grinder. All of that keeps the nib mechanic in yachts and 30-bedroom mansions, but what does it say about the pen manufacturer? And even worse, about the pen buyer who tolerates this nonsense?

I contain my amazement as best I can and return to the safe haven of my old pens. Even there, to my horror, the blight of the modern nib causes trouble. Now and again, an aficionado of modern pens will decide to try one of those “vintage” pens he hears so much about on the pen boards. And he buys one. From me, bless him. When his long-awaited antique treasure arrives, he examines the nib, sees how little tipping material there is on the nib, and accuses me of having sold him a worn-out pen. Case in point, some time ago I offered an English Parker Duofold Senior on eBay. The pen was in pristine condition, barely used, with all its original tipping material present. For their time, these pens sported a good lump of tipping material, but of course it is a mere fly-speck compared with a modern pen. The purchaser was much aggrieved with me and copied me a picture of a brand new Duofold to show me what the nib tip should look like. In reply, I sent him several images of 1950s Duofold nibs that I found in a Google search for comparison, but he remained unconvinced. My explanation that modern nib-makers apply tipping material with the profligacy of a lottery winner in a jewellery shop was dismissed as fiction. I took the pen back. So it goes.

If you ignored my warning at the beginning of this tirade and are now filled with ire and outrage, comfort yourself with the thought that my opinion is only one among many. I’m clearly an embittered old curmudgeon and there’s no truth in what I say. Return to your brand new Laban or Montegrappa and study your reflection in that shiny globe on the end of the nib. You’ll soon feel better.

Pen Books: Jim Marshall: Pens And Writing Equipment

This slender little book of of 64 pages cost around £5.00 when I bought in back in 1999. So far as I can see, there is no newer edition, and like most other things, it has gone up in price over the years. Amazon offer it new for £45.97 (!) or used for £12.19. In parenthesis, let me say this: I give the Amazon prices because it’s the easiest place to find these uncommon books, but I’m not a shill for them! Amazon prices for pen books alternately amuse and appal me. £12.19 for this book isn’t too bad, but please, please, please don’t spend £45.97 on it. It’s an excellent little book but it’s little more than a pamphlet. That price is madness. You could have an excellent Conway Stewart Duro 55 or an English Parker Duofold NS for that money!

Most fountain pen books have an introductory chapter or two that covers the history of writing equipment and alludes to the various writing and desk accessories that may interest collectors. This book does that, only very much better, and it gives a thorough grounding in mechanical pencils and collectible pens too. It isn’t anything like comprehensive, of course – it couldn’t be in this small compass – but it’s a wonderfully scholarly outline of the whole field of writing equipment. It’s well and profusely illustrated.

The author is English (and very well known in the fountain pen world) but the book is aimed at the American market, at least to the extent that the guide prices are in dollars. They’re dated now, of course, and like all of these guide prices, they’re something of an irrelevance in the real world. They do give a hint at the comparative prices of things, though, and it’s interesting to note, for example, that you could buy 21.5 Pelikan 100s for the price of a Sevres inkwell.  Or maybe not.  Maybe that’s just me…

Anyway, if your interest goes beyond just fountain pens into all the other paraphernalia of writing, this book is an essential. Even if you stop at fountain pens, it’s advisory, at the very least. But not at £45.97…

National Security and Rosemary

British Carbon Papers began selling pens in – so far as I can determine – the nineteen-twenties. Their brands were the oddly-named National Security and Rosemary (That’s For Remembrance). They had no manufacturing facility of their own, and contacted out production of the pens.

Button fillers, lever fillers and bulb fillers (some with ink-view) were all made under the National Security name. Quality varies, but there are many excellent National Security Pens. Rosemary, with its Shakespearian tag, was often presented in pen and pencil sets in colourful, attractive boxes. The pens are often ring-tops. Some of these are popularly known as “Rosemary Dinkies” due to their resemblance to Conway Stewart’s Dinkie range of small pens, and I think we’re on fairly firm ground in saying that many of these pens were actually made by Conway Stewart.

The attribution of National Security pens is a more difficult matter. If you read the comments about British Carbon Papers on the web, you’ll find production of these pens assigned to almost every British pen company. Two or three of these attributions are probably sound, some others are possible, and the rest are fantasy, based on some real or perceived resemblance. The 1920s and 30s pens were probably made by Henry Stark, Son & Hamilton, and their output will include the excellent bulb-fillers, some in mottled hard rubber, others in variously marbled celluloid. Then there is a range of very Duofold-like pens, which seem likely to have been been produced at Newhaven by Valentine. Also, there is a Summit-like pen which some attribute to Langs. That may be the case, or this, too, may be a Newhaven-made pen. The latter is more likely, I think.

National Security pens appear in some striking celluloid patterns: turquoise and gold, lapis lazuli, snakeskin and lizard-skin. This lever filler is an example of the latter pattern.

A well-made pen, quite substantial at 12.7cm capped, it is a handsome and striking pen. The arrow clip is held by a stepped collar and the nib is quite large and warranted 14ct. National Security imprints are usually shallow and therefore don’t wear well. They sometimes include their Lion & Pen trademark.

The Conway Stewart 485 Button Filler

During the years when it was an outstanding success, Conway Stewart was known for lever-filling pens. They did experiment with other filling systems such as the piston filler and, quite late in the company’s history, the Speedy Phil, a “one-click” filling system similar to Sheaffer’s Touchdown. These were not a great success. Perhaps they didn’t work very well, or perhaps the market just wasn’t there for that type of pen from Conway Stewart.

Around 1930, though, they introduced a novel and efficient button-filling system. It was quite different from the button-fillers made by their competitors. The pressure bar assembly screws into the end of the barrel and remains fixed there. This makes sac replacement very simple and the filling method works very well in daily use. Several of the Duro range were button fillers, as were some of the 226s and the 485.

The 485 isn’t very common. Superficially similar to the Universal 479, it was in production from 1933 to 1940, but it is generally believed that not very many were made. Though it came in some attractive colours like toffee swirl and the various colours of the hatched pattern, it was clearly intended, like the Scribe or 475 to be a low-cost, practical, workaday pen.

My example is in black celluloid with minimal trim, deep-cut chasing and flat top. The barrel bears the patent number 297194, which I assume relates to the filling system. The thin gold plating is well worn on the clip, but otherwise the pen is in pristine condition. Conway Stewart’s black celluloid of this date seems to be exceptionally hard-wearing.

The nib is extra fine, quite an uncommon point-size in Conway Stewarts. The combination of the parsimonious trim and the fine point suggests to me that this might have been the type of pen bought by companies to supply to their clerks. With its highly efficient filling system (this pen holds a lot of ink) and the fine point, the pen would have filled many pages of columns of figures between fills.

In general, button fillers were very popular, and it surprises me that Conway Stewart did not continue with their excellent version. Perhaps it made more economic sense to concentrate production on lever fillers. Be that as it may, after the 485 went out of production, no more button fillers were made.

Beautiful though the more opulent Conway Stewarts are, there’s something very satisfying about these practical, minimalist pens, with the lines of the barrel and cap unbroken by lever or cap rings.

Fountain Pen Forums

When you think about it, online fountain pen forums are a surprising phenomenon. There aren’t all that many fountain pen fanciers in the world, and yet the subject has a considerable internet presence, a real tribute to the enthusiasm of fountain pen people.

Perhaps the oldest web forum still existing is Pentrace. Great pens, superb photography and a family atmosphere. Like most families, they have the odd entertainingly heated squabble. There’s sound scholarship here, but it’s worn lightly.

The Big Dog among pen forums is, of course, The Fountain Pen Network. It’s broad in scope in every sense – some very knowledgeable people, lots of novices and every stage in between. All types of fountain pen are discussed, though nowadays the balance has swung towards new pens. The standard of discourse is, shall we say, varied! If you ask for pen repair advice there, wait until a few have answered. Some of the first rapid-fire responses could be disastrous if acted upon, but sooner or later one of the more experienced people will give better advice. FPN is a tolerant, easy-going place. Yes, you can get kicked out, but you really have to work at it!

Several of the other pen forums arose as a result of disagreements or dissatisfaction with FPN. Lion & Pen was, I think, the first, beginning in 2005 if I remember aright. Intended as a scholarly forum, mostly on older pens, it more than fulfilled its potential for a few years, then was allowed, deliberately I fear, to wither on the vine. It has seen little activity in the last few years but I believe there are plans to resurrect it in the near future. I hope they are successful. The archive there is invaluable.

The Fountain Pen Board is almost a re-run of Lion & Pen, though with (mostly) different personalities. Like L&P, its major failing is that it is somewhat narrowly American, but given the wealth of knowledge there it has great potential. Early days yet.

The Fountain Pen Community is the project of another exile from FPN. It flourished briefly, but having no special direction of its own has gradually died away. There are very few posts there now.

The most recent forum is Fountain Pen Geeks, who assure us that they’re cool! Again, there seems little to differentiate this group from others, and the frequency of posts is not high. It hasn’t been around long, though, and may yet develop a new direction that will attract active membership.

Pen forums are, I believe, an invaluable resource. They can be a repository of knowledge and wisdom about pens. The fact that they’re on the web gives them immediacy, and those that archive posts (not all do) remain an excellent resource. I would much rather see the information made freely available in this way rather than squirrelled away in some expensive, glossy magazine. The pens cost money but the information should be free, I believe.

FPN hardly needs my good wishes – it goes from strength to strength. I would like to see the other forums – and many more – flourish too. There’s more than one approach to the study of the fountain pen, and the wider the discussion the more we all benefit.

Pentrace: http://www.pentrace.net/mboard.htm

Fountain Pen Network: http://www.fountainpennetwork.com/forum/

Lion & Pen: http://kamakurapens.invisionzone.com/

Fountain Pen Community: http://thefountainpencommunity.activeboard.com/

Fountain Pen Geeks: http://fpgeeks.com/forum/forum.php

Pen Books – Paul Erano: Fountain Pens Past & Present

This book was issued in 1999. I don’t remember what it cost me then, but it wasn’t expensive for a fountain pen book. You can buy now it at Amazon UK for £48.34 new or £33.12 used. A new edition was produced in 2004, and it is offered at £48.92. As always with these books, it appears from time to time in eBay and may well be purchased more cheaply there. It is the 1999 edition that I will be discussing here.

As fountain pen books go, this one has its good and bad points. In fairness, it should be said that most of the bad points can’t be laid at Mr Erano’s door, but arise from the nature of the book itself. It’s one of a large series of Collector Books by Schroeder Publishing, and it conforms to the format of the series. The most egregious fault is the lack of an index. Subtitled Identification & Value Guide, one would expect to be able to turn quickly to the pen of current interest, but without an index this isn’t possible. Secondly, British and European readers should be aware that this book is intended for the American market, and the pens covered in the historical chapters are almost all American. Finally, the pricing element is at best misleading. The prices are 1999 ones, of course, but even for that date they seem a little fanciful. I was an avid pen buyer in 1999 and I certainly wasn’t paying these prices! Mr. Erano doesn’t explain quite how he has arrived at these values. Certainly, eBay was not the mature market and arbiter of value then that it is now, so perhaps these prices were those set by retailers of restored pens.

The book begins with a chapter on the development of the fountain pen, and continues with advice on collecting. Though some of this shows its age a little now, it’s informative and well-written. Major (American) manufacturers are introduced. The historical chapters cover Early Fountain Pens, The Golden Age and The Modern Age. The final chapter is on contemporary fountain pens.

The pen photography is good and the book is profusely illustrated. Mr. Erano has used contemporary advertisements well. These are always welcome, as they’re a good source of information. A few have no indication of the date they were issued, which rather devalues them. Approximate production dates are assigned to the pens illustrated, and these are accurate, so far as I can judge.

In conclusion, I would say that though this book isn’t really a “must” for every pen collector’s bookshelf, it is, with all its limitations, an interesting and informative read. The biggest failing, as I have already noted, is the lack of an index in a book which is presented as a guide, which would lead you to expect it to be a reference. The structure goes some way to address this fault – all the Watermans of a period, for instance, are listed together, but it isn’t enough. This is more the kind of book you will read through when you first get it, and perhaps return to from time to time.

The Mabie Todd Swan Safety Screw Cap Eyedropper Filler

The dates given for the manufacturing run of the Swan Safety Screw Cap vary a little, depending on who you read. Some say it was introduced in 1910 and remained in the Swan catalogue until 1918, other give the dates 1911 to 1920. Be that as it may, this pen was made during an interesting period in the company’s history. The American parent company was declining during these years, whereas the British subsidiary enjoyed great success, and in 1915 it became independent.

The Safety Screw Cap marks a considerable advance towards the modern fountain pen. It had, in fact, a modern-style screw-on cap with an inner cap. The section widened at the nib end, and closed firmly against the inner cap, giving a reliable seal which prevented leaks into the pocket. Gone, too was the hard rubber over-and-under feed of the pen’s predecessors, replaced by a ladder feed.* For a time, the Safety Screw Cap featured a gold bar over the nib, often referred to as an overfeed. That’s not its purpose, though, as it doesn’t supply ink to the nib. Rather, I think, it was a device intended to prevent drying out. Other manufacturers employed a similar solution at the time.

The Safety Screw Cap came with either a No1 or a No2 nib, and was quite a large pen, measuring around 13.2cm capped and 16.4cm posted. I say “around” because, like many other pens, there was slight variation between examples. Nibs were, at first, still made in New York, though by the end of the period of its production, the British company made its own nibs. Like its predecessors, the Safety Screw Cap came in various states of trim. The unadorned black hard rubber version is most common, but examples are seen with gold barrel bands and partial and full overlays.

There is a vest pocket or purse version, though it turns up very infrequently. Measuring 11.7cm capped and 14.7cm posted, all those that I have seen have been made in America. That’s not to say there wasn’t a British-made example, just that none has so far come my way. It makes a neat little pen, beautiful in its understated way, with its crisp wave-pattern machining.

*To be scrupulous, the Safety Screw Cap may not have been the first model to bear the ladder feed. I’ve seen several Swan 1500s with ladder feeds. These may have been retrofitted, but there does seem to be a lot of them…

The Section

The section, at its simplest, is a tube that holds the nib and feed and contains the flow of ink from the reservoir to the point. It was originally known as the gripping section, not because that’s where we grip the pen (not everyone holds it so far down) but because it gripped the nib and held it in place. All but the occasional pedant calls it just “the section” now.

The first sections were tapered to accommodate a slip cap, and had a screw fitting to enable access for filling the eyedropper pen, and to seal it against leaks when closed. They were invariably hard rubber, which machines well, and the threads on traditional eyedropper pens are usually extremely well cut and remain ink-tight today. Some people apply silicone grease as a sealant but it’s seldom necessary. It will do no harm and may make unscrewing the section easier, but additional sealant is rarely needed. These early, tapering sections are often quite thin-walled, and it pays to treat them with care. Some, like the early Swans, will have slits in the section to accept the nib.

Swan was early in the field with a screw cap, and the section had to change to meet its needs. It’s still an eyedropper filler, so it, too, has the screw fitting to the barrel, but now the end nearest the nib swells out to provide a flat face, which makes a positive seal against the inner cap.

The next development changes the section to attach to a sac by a peg or nipple at the rear of the section. The “step” at the front of the section to meet the inner cap has become more accentuated. This form of section will remain unchanged for several decades. The nipple is the most fragile part of the section, and cleaning it of the remains of an old sac should be done carefully. If you should be unlucky enough to break the nipple on a rare section for which you can obtain no replacement, do not despair. They can be repaired, though it isn’t a job for the novice. Professional restorers can do it for you.

Even after hard rubber was superseded by celluloid for barrels and caps, most sections were still made from hard rubber. There were several reasons for this: it machined well, and sections have to be made to a fine tolerance. It is less brittle than celluloid and has some “give”, a necessary attribute, given the fact that a section is always containing the pressure of a nib and feed which are essentially wedged in place. Hard rubber sections contain that pressure well, but they do distort over time, ovalling slightly where the edges of the nib meet the section. For this reason, it’s a good idea, before removing the feed and section, to mark with a pencil where the centre-line of the nib is. Replacing the nib in exactly the same place will be much easier.

Sections come in for quite a bit of abuse. They are often quite difficult to remove from the barrel, and undue force may be applied with inappropriate tools. That’s a recipe for disaster, of course, and heat is your friend in removing sections from barrels. That, and a lot of patience. If you must use pliers, use ones with rubber on the jaws. Don’t use excessive force; it will free up after repeated applications of heat and moderate force. Never remove the nib and feed while trying to remove the section. Leave them in there, as they provide internal support for the section and prevent it from being crushed or cracked.

Some sections have a press (friction) fitting, some are screw-in. You’d think there would be some some kind of logic to which type was used for which purpose, but it isn’t so. Certainly, ink-in-the-barrel pens like eyedropper fillers and Onoto plunger fillers invariably have screw-in sections to contain the ink. Logically, button-fillers should have screw-in sections because they have to resist downward force from the pressure bar, and lever-fill pens should be friction fit as they don’t have any pressure to deal with. Would that it were so simple! Many button fillers are friction fit. It’s the cheaper fitting method, and, in truth, the force a button-filler’s section has to contend with is not that great. Then there are pens like the Parker Televisor that use the Parker anchor pressure bar which transfers the force to the barrel end, rather than down to the section. They have friction fit sections.

Surely, though, there’s no need for a lever filler to have a screw-in section? That’s right. There’s no real reason for it, but they do. Many Swans and Wyverns have screw-in sections, perhaps because they were seen to be an indication of quality, perhaps to reduce the number of different parts that were being manufactured. Just to make it even more difficult, some Wyverns have a left hand thread! You never know what to expect when trying to remove the section from an unfamiliar pen, so proceed with caution.

When pens like the tubular-nibbed Sheaffers and the Parker 51 came along, the design and even to some extent the purpose of the section began to change, as did the nomenclature, as that area of the pen became the “shell” or the “hood”. There were other changes, too, to accommodate the plastic cartridge, but all these interesting developments fall outside this discussion of the section.

Unique

Of all the common pens, the Unique is the least written about. In my various reference books, it is never accorded more than a passing mention. There may be lots of information on the brand on the Web, but try Googling “Unique Pen” and check through the five million or so results that you get. Few of them refer to the actual Unique pen. “Unique” must be one of the most overused words in the English language. One it might it say it was uniquely overused, were “iconic” and “surreal” not equally hurled around without regard to their meaning. It is rare indeed, in discussing fountain pens, for the writer to mean “Being the only one of its kind; unlike anything else”; it usually implies “I think this pen is quite nice” or “I bought this barely operable piece of Chinese crap and I badly need your approval”.

All that having been said, the problem remains that though there are plenty of Unique pens out there, without any hint of a company history it’s hard to get a true picture of what was going on. There have been periods when Uniques were plentiful and clearly somewhat popular and others where they are very uncommon indeed.

Unfortunately I don’t have photos of all the pens I wish to discuss, but the most recent Uniques will be quite familiar to most people. They don’t have a strong collector or user following and I think they’re probably a little under-appreciated. They’re actually quite good pens, or at least those ones that have survived well are.

I have heard it said that they were made at Newhaven, first by Valentine and later under Parker ownership, and it is likely that there was never a Unique manufacturing plant. The late forties pens, slightly streamlined, with a curved stepped clip and a slightly tapered clip screw, closely resemble the Kingswoods of the period and they were certainly made at Newhaven. The clip is identical, I believe. The main difference is that the Uniques have either warranted nibs (often bearing a unicorn image), or nibs marked “Unique” rather than the excellent Eversharp nib of the Kingswood. That these pens continued to be made into the early fifties is shown by the fact that Unique Juniors in this style were presented as commemorative pens for the 1953 coronation.

Their later pen, and probably their last one, is the commonly seen fully streamlined pen that bears more than a passing resemblance to Conway Stewarts and Burnhams of the time. Made in a range of attractive marbled patterns, these pens were successful, if one can judge by the numbers of them that still appear. Probably aimed at the student market, they were made from thin, wrapped celluloid sheet, a common practice which produced a less satisfyingly solid pen than those machined from the rod.

The earlier model than either of these pens, produced during the thirties and early forties, is a conventional, straight-sided pen, quite similar to a lever-fill Mentmore. These pens don’t turn up often. Either they haven’t survived well or they weren’t particularly popular in those years.

That’s not the whole Unique story, though. They’ve been around quite a long time, and in the twenties and thirties were producing higher quality pens than we see later.

This Unique No46 appears to date to the nineteen-twenties and is a pocket or purse pen. This one – the only example I have seen – has had a hard life and is in fairly poor condition, but that does not disguise the quality of the design or the machining.

This No51 is probably a little later, and is a thoroughly superb pen of the highest quality. The nib, which is stamped “Unique 14ct” is very flexible, and this pen is joy to use.

I realise that this is a very patchy and incomplete account of a quite major company. I have held back from writing about Unique because of the lack of information. However, it’s a subject I can always return to, and this brand is an especial interest of mine.