EMERSON NO. 3

David B. Davis collection     serial number 10576

Let's take a look at some of the particulars of the Emerson machine and attempt to discover just why this machine was such an abysmal failure in the marketplace.

Our example is a wholly conventional mid-production machine, and was received in good enough condition to actually attempt work.  The first and probably most important observation was the total "slowness" of the machine -- even though it could use a cleaning, it is obvious that this machine could never have been operated at anything like the speed of the vast majority of conventional frontstrike machines using swinging (instead of hinging) type bars. 
We should remember, though, that the machine was selling at this time at $50.00 or roughly half the price of conventional standards; this SHOULD have produced some advantage to the makers.
Of course, we know today that it did not.  The machine does have one feature of note, which is a decimal type tabulator, with individual keys for individual stops.  However, the addition of that one feature doesn't make up for what the machine lacks.  First, and perhaps most important, is the fact that the machine has no backspace key.  While it is true that some standards of the early days of "visible" frontstrikes didn't have one, by the time the Emerson No. 3 was in full production in Illinois all of them did have it -- and the Emerson is notably short on this detail.  Worse, the margin release is actuated by a lever on the carriage, wholly inconvenient when compared to other machines.  Yes, this feature could become familiar if one used this machine a great deal, but as far as changing between brands in offices, the Emerson again comes up short.  The shift action is easy, but again it is actually a double-shift three-bank machine, which was hardly competitive (except in the case of the Oliver) by this time.
We know from collectors and from patent material that the original design of the type bars was considered weak; early machines tended to work out of alignment, and also tended to break off type slugs.  This example's inspection may shed some light on this, even though it does have all of its type slugs.

Right at the print point is a type alignment guide, which incorporates a rectangular opening above, and a small oval opening below.  The upper opening is for the type slug; when the slug is at the print point, it is entirely surrounded by this opening.  On each type bar, below the type slug, is a protrusion, or prong; this passes through the smaller oval opening.  The entire alignment guide is dished, or semi-circular, when viewed from directly above, which helps guide the type to the print point.

It is fairly obvious that once the machine had worked slightly out of alignment, the slugs would collide with the edges of this guide, and with enough collective impacts might be weakened enough to break off.
This might well explain why the 1911 patent for improvements to the machine omits the guide for the type slug itself, and retains only the guide for the prong on the type bar.  Still, with the kind of design employed here for actuating the type bars, and the design and nature of the type bars themselves, misalignment and wear still seem likely.  It is fairly apparent that the machine was not really worth saving, design-wise, once enough capital was available for wholesale improvement -- and that's what happened.  Once Sears-Roebuck was in charge, the ideas for improvements to the Uhlig design were dropped, and a completely and totally new machine was developed (the Woodstock.)  The rest is history, as the Woodstock went on to great success and a very long life.