Ross' Introduction (next)    Cragin article Part 2           Cragin article Part 4
Cragin article Part 1             Cragin article Part 3           Healey article
 
 

George A. Gaskell (1844-1885) was one of the most famous calligraphers in America.  Gaskell's Complete Compendium of Elegant Writingwas a bestseller, with over 250,000 copies sold in ten years.   It inspired a whole generation of penmanship students, many of whom became prominent calligraphers later on (Louis Madarasz, for example).   Gaskell was also the author of The Penman's Hand-Book (1883), another excellent calligraphy manual, and he was the editor of what was almost certainly the first monthly journal dedicated to calligraphy and penmanship. 
[Note: However, Gaskell was perhaps most famous as the author/compiler of a book called Gaskell's Compendium of Forms,Educational, Social, Legal and Commercial --a massive tome on etiquette, etc., that no self-respecting Victorian gentleman or lady could do without reading. Therefore, the title "Gaskell's Compendium" signifies *two very different* famous publications! --but all references in the following are to
the writing manual, Gaskell's Complete Compendium of Elegant Writing.]

The article below was written by Charles T. Cragin, and published in May, 1903, in The Western Penman.   This was the penmanship & calligraphy magazine edited by A. N. Palmer, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa (which was considered "the West" in 1903).   Soon after this the magazine changed its name to TheAmerican Penman.  It was a major showcase for calligraphers and teachers of penmanship.

This article deals with Cragin's memories of George Gaskell, Austin Norman Palmer, and William E. Dennis, the famous engrosser. Please note that Cragin's derogatory comments regarding Gaskell's Complete Compendium ofElegant Writing should not be taken too literally; Cragin also writes that "Gaskell certainly was, at his best, a first-class penman, the Compendium to the contrary notwithstanding."   There are aspects of the Compendium that are eccentric, including a few outright blunders, but they do not (in my opinion) detract from the overall elegance of the work.

It was in July, 1876, that I received a large and showy parchment diploma
which bore the dashing signature of H. G. Eastman, and certified that I was
a "Master of Accounts." In the light of future events I have sometimes
thought that possibly the diploma flattered me, but I had no doubts about it
then and could have settled, off hand, any of the great questions agitating
the community if they had been left to me for adjustment.

Armed with this formidable document, a good digestion, and a moderate amount
of self-assurance, I started out to "open the world, mine oyster."

But in 1876 the oyster was by no means fat, for the panic of '73 had struck
the ship of state amidships and business was flatter than the proverbial
pancake.

The advertisements of Eastman College in those days did not underestimate
the value of a course at that famous institution, and we country boys rather
had the idea that the leading businessmen of New York and Brooklyn were
waiting on the curb at Poughkeepsie to snatch the graduate of the E.N.B.C.
and put him in charge of their business. Such was not, I regret to say, the
case in 1876.

When I came out there was no one waiting for me and so I went down to New
York to get a job, but New York was a regular graveyard and "masters of
accounts" with three months' experience in a business college were a drug on
the market, and New York is a mighty lonesome place for a young fellow with
no job and only a few dollars in his pocket.

The prairie, when the wind moans at night and you see the dim rolling waves
of gray-green grass stretching away for miles and miles and only the faint
stars above, and hear only the movement of your mustang and the yelping of a
distant coyote, is lonesome. The fishing banks, when the fog has settled
down and you are out in a boat picking up fish along the trawl line and you
hear only the swash of the waves and the hoarse toot of a distant steamer's
foghorn as she cleaves her way through the misty pall, is lonesome. The
depths of the Canada woods, where you sometimes see the sun at midday and
only your compass tells you what direction will bring you to creation, and
where big bobcats, lynxes, and an occasional panther come and sing "Home,
Sweet Home" around your campfire at night, are lonesome, but none of these
places ever made me feel so utterly all gone and forsaken as did New York in
that summer of 1876, as I tramped its streets in vain search of employment -
and I was glad to get back to the hills of old New Hampshire again and take
my bearings from their glorious elevation.

I was quick at figures and had taught school a few terms. I *thought* I knew
all about accounting, but I couldn't write worth a cent and I knew it.
[Note: The best professional bookkeepers were also expected to be excellent
penmen, hence Cragin's need for further education.]  George A. Gaskell, by
means of his extensive advertising, was then about the best known penman in
the United States, and he was at the head of the Bryant & Stratton Business
College at Manchester, New Hampshire. It occurred to me that he and I might
possibly do business together, so I wrote him a letter telling him what I
could do and what I wished to learn, and he replied that if I would act as
assistant in his business college he would give me all the instruction in
penmanship necessary to make me proficient, and enough money to keep me from
starving to death, and so I went to Manchester, and for the next two years I
knew intimately the queer genius, and the brace of lively youngsters who
form the subject of this reminiscent sketch of long ago, which may interest
the old-timers even if the boys do not care for it.

Part 2 

======================

I do not imagine that G. A. Gaskell was greatly impressed by my personal
appearance when I presented myself at his office early in September. I had
put in July in the hayfield, and August in removing by fire the underbrush
from a large timber clearing, and as a result I was about the complexion of
a well-smoked Eskimo, and so thin that it was only on very clear days that I
cast a shadow. Mr. Gaskell welcomed me, however, in his reserved way and at
once installed me as first and only assistant in the Bryant & Stratton
Business College, which was reached by ascending four of the longest,
crookedest, and dirtiest flights of stairs I ever saw, in the old Merchants
Exchange Building at Manchester, then a thriving city of twenty-five thousand.

As I walked into the big square room which composed the B. & S. B. C., I saw
at a long table, folding papers, a couple of lads of, I should say, sixteen
or seventeen. One was tall and slim and rather pale-faced, and if Gaskell
introduced me to him at all, which I doubt, for he was amazingly
absent-minded about social amenities, he called him Palmer. The other was a
boyish-looking chap of slight dimensions, and he answered to the name of
Dennis. I grew to know these youngsters very well in the next two years, and
I contracted a liking for them which has worn extremely well through the
twenty-five years that have passed, though our meetings have been few and
far between.

George A. Gaskell was at that time, I should say, about forty years of age
[actually, he was about 32], of medium height, with very dark hair and
clear-cut features. He always dressed quietly, but with faultless taste, was
reserved and low of voice, yet he at once impressed a visitor as a man of
ability and refinement, and such he was on most occasions. He was born in
Ohio, at Ashtabula I think [Note: Gaskell was born in New York; see the
second article for more accurate biographical info, below], and was a
pupil of the Log Cabin Pen Art School of Platt Rogers Spencer, whom he
greatly admired.   He came to New York after the war and worked with John D.
Williams and others who taught him off-hand flourishing, and he had been
sent to Manchester by the manager of the Bryant & Stratton chain of
colleges.   The death of Stratton broke up the chain and Gaskell acquired the
Manchester college which was badly run-down, for obvious reasons, when I
went there in 1876.    Gaskell had ceased to take any interest in educational
matters, his whole mind being given to the sale of his Compendium, which his
shrewd advertising had made a very profitable source of income.   Gaskell's
Compendium was a series of pretty bad copies. At any rate, they would be
termed pretty bad in this day of good business writing. They were made up of
full-arm capitals and finger-movement small letters, but there was a dash
and go about them that caught the eye of the untrained far more effectively
than did the more correct, but less showy, copies of other penmen of his
day, and they set thousands of boys to practice writing, and indirectly did
a lot of good in spite of their defects. Given a fine pen with plenty of ink
and paper and a little instruction about throwing full-arm capitals and the
student found he could soon turn out copy nearly as bad as some in the
Compendium, and that encouraged him. Gaskell knew how to advertise, though
he occasionally showed poor judgment in selecting his medium. I do not know
that he was the originator of the 'before and after using' style, but he was
the first to adapt it to educational advertising. For instance, young Thomas
Jones, who wrote by main strength with a pure finger movement, sent for a
Compendium and signed his name. Now as likely as not young Thomas had
penman's stuff in him; the copies in the Compendium and the instruction
would wake him up, and in a month or two would come a letter from him with a
greatly improved signature. Gaskell kept all his original letters. He would
send for Jones' photograph, have a copy of his signature, *not improved*,
reproduced by the photoengraver, and a copy of the second signature, perhaps
slightly *touched up*, and the next number of the Youth's Companion, in a
full-column ad, would contain the photograph of young Jones, with the
'before and after using' signatures, along with several others. These
advertisements were put together with considerable art, and as a result he
sold more than one hundred thousand copies of the Compendium. [250,000
copies in ten years, according to the next article.]

The school compared to this was a small source of income and it is perhaps
not to be wondered at that he lost interest in it. He turned the classes
over pretty much entirely to me after he was satisfied that I knew enough to
steer the not over large attendance through the business course, which was
not elaborate. He did some teaching of penmanship occasionally however, and
heard some law classes in a queer absent-minded manner which sometimes
astonished his pupils.

He had many fine penmen come to him from all parts of the country, attracted
by his advertising, expecting to receive superior instruction, of which they
received very little, though he took an interest in the best of them in a
quiet sort of way, and this interest rose to as near enthusiasm as he ever
got, in the case of his talented pupil William E. Dennis.

Part 3 

======================
Dennis was a New Hampshire boy from the neighboring village of
Chester and was a natural-born penman, though the superb work he does at the
present time has been acquired by patient study of the art models of the big
metropolis, and is widely different from the somewhat lurid specimens of
off-hand flourishing and writing he did in those early days.   He was an
earnest and untiring worker, and we had hard work to get him away from the
big sheet of Whatman's hot pressed long enough to feed him when he did his
first copy of John D. Williams' bounding stag jumping over the Atlantic
Ocean.   He didn't sleep over three hours out of twenty-four while engaged
upon the American eagle dropping the boa constrictor upon the Western
continent, and when he did the pen drawing of the sweet little dickeybird
feeding the fat grub to his mate on the nest, from Williams' and Packard's
gems, he lost flesh at the rate of a pound a day.   His tastes in those days
ran largely to off-hand flourishing, and he thought Michelangelo, Raphael,
and Murillo mighty small potatoes beside John D. Williams, Fielding
Schofield, Hinman, and Gaskell.

He was then a devoted admirer of Gaskell's work, and Gaskell certainly was,
at his best, a first-class penman, the Compendium to the contrary
notwithstanding.   He [Dennis] wrote a fine unshaded muscular-movement
business hand which I have never seen excelled. It was somewhat like that of
the late S. S. Packard, and he did it with an ease and rapidity that were
enviable. His off-hand flourishing was characterized by a dash and vigor not
far short of that of John D. Williams at his best, and it was very much
superior to the two or three large specimens by Williams which hung upon the
walls of the Bryant & Stratton Business College. His pen drawing was also of
a fine quality, but he never did anything of this after I knew him.

In a recent article in the Penman's Art Journal, Fielding Schofield, in his
interesting gossip of old-timers, speaks of Palmer as a disciple of the
muscular-movement fad "originated" by Gaskell. In fact Palmer never got much
muscular movement from Gaskell, for Gaskell did not teach it to his school
at that time. Palmer and the rest of his pupils practiced full-arm capitals
and finger movement small letters mostly, and it was after he got out into
the free air of the prairies that the robust and genial editor of The
Western Penman developed his hobby of muscular-movement writing and became
one of its best exemplifiers.

Gaskell, in spite of his rather flamboyant advertising, was a very modest
and unassuming man. He never bragged about his own writing and he was ever
ready to admit the excellence of the work of others. He was a devoted
admirer of Packard.   Schofield, Flickinger, Lillibridge, Knauss, Hinman, and
the Spencers all received a good word from him, and when he got out his
amazing publication, "Gems of Pen Art" I think it was called, he put in
specimens of their work, to the great wrath of some of them, for the book
was thrown together without any regard, looks or anything else, and he
slapped in "any old thing" he happened to have lying around as a specimen,
without saying anything to them about it.   Gaskell was nothing if not
eccentric.   I worked for him a year before I had any idea whether he regarded
me as a man of decent abilities, or as an imbecile, and then I got a notion
of his estimate only from the fact that he doubled my not-over-princely salary.

Young Palmer was a Manchester boy; that is, he was living with his mother in
the city at that time, though it is my impression he is a New Yorker by
birth.   He was very much more of a general student than Dennis, and I don't
think I shall hurt his feelings if I say he was very much less of a genius
with his pen. He had not then developed any special talent as a writer,
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