If the present treatise has convinced the reader that the making of pianofortes is a very serious matter, and one not to be attacked in a spirit of levity, then one of its immediate objects has been attained.

Indeed there has been an abiding fear in the breast of the author that he might presently be charged with piling on the agony too strongly and searching with excessive zeal for scientific causes and rules when the shortest solutions may be found by empirical methods. This is not really the case, however, for the whole problem of the construction of pianofortes is naturally acoustical. While it is doubtless true that many pianofortes have been and are continually made, not merely with indifference to, but in defiance of, every law that has been expounded in these pages, it nevertheless remains that none of these have been good pianofortes. Of the making of thump-boxes there is no end. Unfortunately for the public, musical ignorance is well-nigh universal, and the impostor finds it easy to palm off shoddy in place of the real article. Of course, it is quite true that bad pianofortes are soon found out, but when the inevitable discovery comes, the mischief has been done and the purchaser is, as usual, the victim. A student of the construction of good instruments cannot fail to be astonished that anyone should wish to turn out anything but the best. For, as one continues to investigate the multifarious problems that are continually suggested, the desire to overcome them and to produce perfect instruments becomes almost irresistible. Perhaps this is why the clever designer, if left to himself, often develops into a crank. And, indeed, there is not an industry on the face of the globe that has produced more cranks.

The files of the patent office are full of the ideas of unrewarded genius that has spent its time, its money and its enthusiasm in the unenviable task of producing innovations in pianofortes. No feature of construction has been left unimproved; yet how many of these inventions ever see the light? Few, indeed; and the fact is a sad commentary on the unpractical nature of genius in general.

These reflections lead one to the feeling that a fitting conclusion to a treatise on pianoforte construction may be made by giving particulars of some of the most famous and revolutionary inventions that at one time and another have been launched upon the unfeeling world of piano-making. Not all of these by any means can be denominated freaks; indeed there are the germs of most valuable developments in many of them. We shall consider a few of the really valuable ideas at least.

Among these primacy must be given to the screw-stringing device of Mason & Hamlin. This invention was intended to substitute a positive mechanical fastening for the tuning-pin, in place of the wooden wrest-plank. It consisted of a screw, threaded vertically in a socket, which was cut in a projecting shoulder on the iron-plate. As it extended below its socket, it was provided with an universal joint which ended in a hook. On this hook the string was wound, and was then free to pass on to the agraffe. A small T-hammer sufficed to turn the screw and the string was tightened or slackened as the screw turned in the threaded socket. The action was slow but sure, and the strings had the curious property of sharping under a test blow instead of the opposite, as is usual. The method of tuning was the same except that the screw turned in the opposite direction to the ordinary style and required much more turning to bring the string to the desired point. On the other hand, however, setting the pin was unnecessary, and the evils engendered by bad wrest-planks and sticking or twisting pins were unknown. Moreover, the turning of the screw involved very slight effort.

With all these advantages, however, the reverse motion and the slowness of action were fatal; and after several years of effort Mason & Hamlin gave up the attempt to popularize their invention, and let it drop. It is, indeed, unfortunate that this device did not become more popular, as in that case its many inherent advantages would doubtless have been emphasized and the bad points in it eliminated. Prejudice and the tuners, however, were against it, and it died.

The well-known house of Brinsmead in London has also experimented with a similar device, but it is not known with what success. One of the advantages held out by the makers of such string devices was the supposed facilitation of the work of tuning—that is to say, it was alleged that every musician could become his own tuner as soon as he had learned the theoretical principles of the Equal Temperament. The hope was delusive, however. Perhaps the professional tuners attended to this point.

Another similar but more successful device is being manufactured by the Wegman Piano Co. This is in the form of a fastening for the pin in the iron plate. The appearance of the plate and pin is not different from the usual design, but the tapered end is done away with and the pin, instead of being driven into the wooden wrest-plank, is fastened in the plate by means of the friction set up between the peculiarly bored hole and the back of the pin. A special twist is needed to fasten the pin when a string is drawn up to pitch, but otherwise the method of operation is not unusual. The device appears to be of value.

The sound-board has ever afforded a fertile field for inventive genius. It has been altered in every conceivable manner, but the old style continues to flourish with all its pristine activity. This is not to say that it is ideal and insusceptible of improvement. On the contrary, one cannot deny that many praiseworthy ideas have been patented for the purpose of improving it. The ribbing has been the subject of much attention from inventors. It is true that this method of giving strength and tension to the board is by no means perfect. Yet we find that the various devices proposed for the abolition of ribbing have almost uniformly failed. A large number of these failures owe their conditions to the lack of acoustical knowledge of the inventors. It has often been supposed that the enormous relative resonance power of the violin belly was connected in some way with the duplicate nature of the resonance table and the consequent hollow shape of the resonating body. This has been conclusively disproved, however, for it has been shown that the violin’s special shape is given to it merely for the purpose of bearing the strain of its strings. Moreover, the tone and resonance of a violin have been reproduced by means of a vibrating diaphragm and a horn. This device, known after its inventor as the Stroh violin, satisfactorily disproves many cherished theories in regard to violin resonance. In spite of these facts we find that several patents have been taken out for pianoforte sound-boards, of which the guiding principles have been ingenious applications of the violin idea. The “equilibre” pianoforte of Frederic Mathushek was an example of this type. It seems passing strange that experimenters have not all become aware long ago of the essential differences between the resonance apparatus required for struck and for bowed strings.

There have been other and saner variations of sound-board construction. It has been suggested that the use of a double board composed of two cross-grained thicknesses glued to each other would obviate the necessity of ribbing and increase the power of resonance. There seems to be little doubt that there is the germ of a valuable idea in this, and if the notion is properly worked out, it will very likely produce valuable additions to our knowledge of the phenomena of resonance.

Unusual ideas have been less frequent in the domain of action-making. There have been several praiseworthy attempts to get rid of the troublesome, but hitherto necessary, tape in the upright action. The patent of Leo Battalia is one of these. He abolishes the tape and bridle wire, and substitutes a two-branched spring fork projecting from the jack. One branch works in a slot cut in the hammer butt and the other bears against the back check. The back stop is done away with and excellent repetition is assured, superior to that which is obtained by ordinary methods.

In the domain of pure scale design, we note the ever present and perennial notion of sympathetic strings. This idea has taken various forms. The most conventional development is, of course, the “duplex scale” of Steinway and others. This utilizes the waste ends of the strings and scales off lengths of them that correspond to aliquot parts of the vibrating length of each string, thus obtaining the advantage of sympathetic partial tones. Most of the ideas in this direction have gone further than this, however. Some makers have gone so far as to have a fourth string tuned to the octave of every three-string group. But this is surely unnecessary when we consider that the octave is, on the pianoforte, the strongest partial tone of any musical sound, and least of all needs adventitious aid.

There are many other similar devices used and unused that we should waste our time in considering. In any case the true test of the utility of an invention is use, and each one of these unusual notions that have been put on the market would have been universal long ago had they been uniformly practical and valuable.

We cannot close this hasty survey without mention of the remarkable innovation in action mechanism devised by Mr. Morris Steinert. Here the forcible hammer-blow is superseded by a gradual push on the hammer at the strings, executed through the interposition of an articulated double lever between the hammer and the jack. The result is to produce a different form of hammer attack and a noticeable modification in the coloring of the tone produced from the string. While the claims of the inventor are somewhat exaggerated, there is no doubt that Mr. Steinert has hit upon a valuable variation in the method of actuating the hammer, and his invention opens up new prospects of pleasure to the pianist.

If all these and the innumerable others have no other value, they at least teach that inventive genius and the hunger for improvement do not entirely sleep; that the pianoforte is continually being improved, and that many are spending their time in finding new ways of improvement. It shows that the value of the pianoforte to the community is sufficiently great to cause the expenditure of much valuable thought upon its mechanical and musical betterment. The fact that these things happen should console anyone who has ever thought that the limit of mechanical excellence had been reached.

The designing of a pianoforte is art with a big A. It demands of its practitioners the temperament of an artist and the skill of an excellent mechanic. There is no greater pleasure and no nobler work than the construction of an instrument equipped to give forth lovely tone and to interpret the inspired works of the masters of music. May the advancing years bring the pianoforte as much more of mechanical and musical excellence as the last two centuries have so richly imparted.

And now our task is done. It has been a labor of love to place the results of long study and much practical experience before those to whom this exposition of the principles of pianoforte construction might be expected to appeal. It has been far from easy to put into really intelligible and concise English an explanation of certain of these laws; and if the reader finds here aught of vagueness or obscurity, may he blame the subject rather than the author. The latter has, as best he might, laid down the principles that underly the right building of the noblest musical instrument that man has yet devised. And in the contemplation of these principles he may properly be content to leave his patient readers.