I spent some time today doing surgery on my Brother Charger 11 Correction typewriter. It was quite relaxing to tinker around for a bit and appreciate the sparse, but clever and solid internals of this late model JP-1 machine that the serial number dates to January 1985.
I managed to clean out a lot of white somewhat sticky cruft, ostensibly from the correction ribbon this machine once had. I initially thought it would all blow out quickly with canned air, but it really needed some careful work with my typewriter brush and some Q-tips. The spots on the still supple rubber platen and rollers came off pretty quickly with some rubbing alcohol.
I quickly found the re-connected the spring that was preventing the margin release from working properly. I then tracked down the issue I was seeing with the vibrator assembly. It turns out someone had worked on this before and neglected to replace two small screws and nuts to hold the assembly down to the frame and at the appropriate distance from the platen. Without them it just sort of floats around between the basket and the platen. I’ll have to pick up a pair of them at the hardware store to be able to reattach it and then adjust it to the proper distance from the platen. Hopefully the rest of that assembly will operate properly once attached, particularly the bichrome lever which seems somewhat flimsy.
Beyond this the only outstanding thing I see, besides adding a new ribbon, is that the end of the backspace assembly isn’t attached to anything. It ends in a small question mark-like but very sturdy hook which I presume would have attached to either a spring or a metal wire, but I’m going to need to consult either another machine or find a service manual which details what the assembly is supposed to look like. If anyone has a helpful photo of the bottom of their Charger 11 from that hook to the escapement assembly, that would be most helpful.
The last couple of tweaks should have this back in perfectly serviced operating order. Its almost as clean and new as when it rolled off the assembly line 39 years and 4 months ago.
I received this machine on March 12th and just realized that I never really took any photos of it or played around with it at the time in part because that’s the day my car’s engine died. I’ll see what I can do to finish this up soon, so that I can do a proper acquisition post and include some photos of the exterior as well as a proper typeface sample.
I’ve seen many references comparing the use of typewriters in an overstimulating technology space to the slow food movement. Since one regularly pairs wine with their meals, it only seems right to extend the typewriter analogy to liquor as well. Today, I’m pairing this smooth 10 year single malt Glenmorangie Scotch with the 1949 Royal Quiet De Luxe.
Surely Hemingway would approve?
Type-o-sphere, what are you pairing with your typewriter today?
Converting 1949 dollars to 2024 using an inflation calculator indicates this is now worth $1,247.75. Considering that I got it for less than the original sale price in 2024 (including shipping) and that it works as well now as it did then, I feel like I got a pretty solid deal.
For comparison the competing portable models in the catalog included:
For the rapidly decreasing amount of space I’ve got for storing and actively using the handful of machines I’ve got in my burgeoning typewriter collection, I’ve begun to become a bit more discerning of new acquisitions. I had yet to add a Royal the fleet, and I’ve had my eye on a handful, but the ones that stuck out most vividly to me were a span of years in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Today a Royal Quiet De Luxe (often seen abbreviated as QDL) has joined the family.
Design
The kicker on this typewriter model for me, beyond the general beauty of this era of Royals, was reading that Henry Dreyfuss (1904-1972), one of the most influential industrial designers of the 20th century, had produced a model of the QDL for Royal in 1948. In my opinion, it’s one of the prettiest in the entire Royal line, and possibly in the pantheon of typewriters in general. Really, who could resist the textured crinkle gray magic paint, the hint of yellow in the lettering, with just enough black and shiny chrome, combined with metal wrapped glass keys that lovingly cup your fingertips?
Also intriguing to me was that Dreyfuss had lived, until his death in 1972, in South Pasadena, California seven tenths of a mile from my old apartment on Orange Grove Boulevard and less than 7 miles from my current home in Altadena, CA. It seems very apropos to have a neighbor’s typewriter in the house.
It could easily fit into a dark academia setting and might be the typewriter you could imagine Cary Grant, George Clooney, or Jude Law would have on their desks.
Henry Dreyfuss’ Royal QDL certainly meets both of William Morris’ criteria when he instructed “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” As the brief typewriter manual touts, the machine “will add grace to any room or setting.” It is not wrong. This machine is both handsome and dapper all at once. If a typewriter were to wear a business suit bordering on formal, this model would be the life of the cocktail party wearing a debonair hat.
Overall Condition
The serial number on the machine is A-1927573 which the Typewriter Database dates to 1949. Based on the spread of serial numbers from that production year, this was likely manufactured in December of 1949. This means that this machine will celebrate its 75th birthday this coming Winter. I intend to give it the 75th year it richly deserves.
The serial number on the 1949 Royal Quiet De Luxe can be found on the top left corner of the machine underneath the carriage.
I bought this in an online auction with very little information to go on, but things have turned out exceedingly well for just a few dollars. The typewriter came with the original case, a small 14 page manual describing it as “Gray Magic”, and a Royal typewriter brush. The machine itself has almost no external flaws or scratching. It definitely shows some signs of use and age, but the exterior cleaned up very well.
All the keys worked well aside from one or two which may need some minor attention for borderline stickiness. The machine’s shift keys were binding when I pressed them, but I couldn’t see anything obviously causing any issues. A quick trip to Phoenix Typewriter’s YouTube channel identified the problem and a fix that was done in about two minutes of simple adjustment by properly forming a small metal tab.
The variable spacer on the left platen knob also seems to have an issue, but I can easily get around it functionally until I have a few minutes to figure out what might be causing the problem. I’ll also have to do a quick clean out of the insides to remove some built up oil and dust and give it a quick service. The rubber feet and the platen have certainly seen better days; I’ll get around to replacing them shortly.
The ribbon it came with, a standard black and red on the original (universal) spools, still has some reasonable life left in it.
The case which has a predominantly yellow and black flecked tweed wrap has seen some action but is in generally good shape for its age. The interior seems near mint while the exterior has a few minor discolorations and one small stain. One of my favorite upcycle recommendations: “With the Portable removed,” as stated in the manual, “the case may be used as an ideal overnight bag.” I could almost imagine that Roger O. Thornhill in North by Northwest (1959) wished he’d had such a case when embarking on his escape on the Twentieth Century Limited from Grand Central Station with Eve Kendall. In fact, I’d almost swear that a brunette version of Eva Marie Saint is on the cover of the typewriter’s manual.
Keys
The Royal earns the “De Luxe” portion of its name with the lush keys alone. While many newer typewriters of its era were converting to less expensive mass manufactured plastic keys, the QDL went with somewhat square keys with a domed top. Some might describe them as “tombstone” keys, but their subtle roundness provides a memento mori that makes you elated to be alive and using them. The letters are a very light yellow against a black background with the yellow hints being picked up again in the numbered hashes on the paper table scale. Over the keys are polished glass which is indented slightly. The manual calls them “Finger-Flow Keys” which are “designed to cradle your fingertips.” The tactile experience is sublime.
The 49 key keyboard is a standard American typewriter set up without any frills like a “1” or an “=”. The usual back space and margin release (labeled “Mar Rel”) are present along with both left and right “Shift Freedom” shift keys and a shift “lock” key on the left side. (The typewriter has a basket shift rather than a carriage shift.) A “tab” key sits in the top right of the keyboard next to the */- key on the top row.
The front of the keyboard features an ample black Bakelite space bar which forms the front edge of the machine. It’s presence helps to ground the machine and balance out the black Quiet De Luxe badge and platen at the top of the machine. This design prevents one’s thumbs from hitting a front metal frame of the typewriter, which happens on some poorly designed models in which the spacebar doesn’t sit above the frame with enough clearance.
Other Functionality
This is the first machine I’ve had with an adjustable or disappearing card finger which one can move down out of the way with a quick pivot. This pivot is useful for more easily switching ribbons, but given the number of index cards I go through, it’s likely to stay in the up position most of the time.
I’ve never previously had a typewriter with a Magic Margin™, but this one has got a small metal switch on the back left of the machine which allows one to set the left margin quickly and easily with a tiny pull. Of course one can flip up the paper table behind the platen to expose the two metal margin set mechanisms which can be set manually. I love how Dreyfuss has cleverly hidden this functionality. I’d have to take a look at the margin set mechanisms to ensure the escapement would be protected properly, but when storing the typewriter, one could quickly center the carriage and set the margins for the center character as a pseudo-carriage lock.
Unlike later typewriters of the mid to late 1950s which had an almost infinite number of tab stops, this Royal Quiet De Luxe is equipped with a bar on the back of the carriage with five individual stop mechanisms which can be set as desired by sliding them into place.
Just above the keyboard, almost functioning like the cummerbund of the typewriter’s tuxedo, sits a subtle band of chrome with two small, elegant but somehow substantial horizontal switches. The left switch manages the direction of the ribbon. On the opposite side is the traditional slider with red, blue and white for switching between the bottom (red) and top (blue) of the ribbon or choosing the stencil setting (white).
The case has a clever hinge lock that can be actuated with one finger while sliding the top of the case right with respect to the bottom to remove it from the hinge posts. The case also has a convenient clip for the brush as well as for the manual and any other papers one might wish to take. Also mounted in the top of the case is a carriage protector meant to keep the carriage in place while in transit as the machine doesn’t have a carriage lock.
The bottom of the case has two black rails with four silver metal pins and black metal thumb locks. The pins fit into the bottom of the typewriter’s feet and the thumb locks slide easily to lock the typewriter into the case.
Typeface Sample
The pitch on this machine is 10 characters per inch (pica). The full platen is 94 characters wide with 6 spaces coming before the ‘0’ marker.
Sound
Here’s a sound sample of inserting an index card, writing a sentence, the bell, and a return on the 1949 Royal Quiet De Luxe:
On March 11, 2023, I’d gotten a nice deal on a Remington Streamline portable typewriter in a generally uncontested online auction. I was certainly taking a small chance on a typewriter only by a few photos and the label “untested”, but I couldn’t resist the mint blue color which seemed like it would be a close match to my TWSBI Eco T fountain pen and my custom General Fireproofing 20 gauge steel desk.
Yesterday, the typewriter arrived, and today I took a short break to open it up and give it a short test drive. In addition to the fantastic news that the machine is in stunning shape, its color is about as perfect a match to the pen and the desk as one could ask!
Overall
The overall condition was beyond my dreams for this vintage and with some plastic portions. The typewriter only has a few signs of use and wear with some paint worn off at the corners of the back and on the right hand side where the platen knob meets the body. A bit of the “R” on the top Remington logo is worn off and seems to be thermally printed on, so I wouldn’t recommend heavy scrubbing, harsh abrasives, or caustic chemicals when cleaning the bodies of these for fear of removing the logo all together. These small flaws gives the machine some nice patina and the street cred of some reasonable use as a portable. There’s some small wear to the plastic hood where the two position return lever has rubbed against it. Otherwise it is in about as good a condition as one could hope.
All the keys worked with some severe stickiness on the “L” key. The smallest of tweaks on the head of the typebar remedied the issue without resorting to cleaning. The margin release wasn’t operating properly, but only because an obvious and easily re-mounted tension wire had become unhooked.
There is some minor grime and dust inside the body which could stand some cleaning, but it’s in great shape right out of the box. I’ll try to spend some time blowing it out and cleaning it up internally while I await some replacement ribbon.
The typewriter itself is has a metal chassis which is permanently screwed into a slightly darker plastic green base. This base dovetails with the plastic lid to create a case with a rubber-like plastic handle. Sadly the lid of the case was badly cracked and splintered into a dozen or so pieces in shipping, so I’m going to consider the lid a total loss. I’ll have to fashion some type of cover to keep the dust (and more importantly the German shepherd fur) out of the internal mechanisms.
On this model, the serial number is imprinted on to the black metal bottom chassis between the “U” and “J” keys when looking down at the typewriter from above. The serial number on my particular machine is AX 16 74 89. Sadly, the Typewriter Database doesn’t have serial numbers for this model or the late 60s or early 70s timespan in which these were made. One model in the database is dated to 1969 with a serial number starting with CX so it’s possible mine may be as early as ’68 or ’69 but sadly without better data, one can’t be sure.
Given the time period and the metallic mint paint, I do sort of wish this model also had Positraction, but then I suppose it would have needed to be produced by GM rather than Remington.
Keys
The keys appear to be thin beige pieces of almost bone-like plastic floating in mid-air but have thicker plastic and metal bases which give them a nice action. There’s a standard back space (curved arrow on the left), a margin release (double arrow on the right), but surprisingly for the age, is missing a dedicated 1/! key. There is no built-in tab functionality.
Ribbon
The machine has the typical larger Remington ribbon cores and this one included a dead, improperly seated ribbon on original metal rings. I swapped these out briefly for a new ribbon, though the plastic hub doesn’t seat as tightly as one would wish for the ribbon advance to work properly. I’ll get some new ribbon and handspool it onto the original cores and we should be off to the races. I’ll note that no metal ribbon covers, which had been standard on earlier models of this make, were present, though its probably just as likely that these were never included on their later models either for weight, functionality, or manufacturing cost reasons.
I’m don’t see any switch or button for the spool reverse, but suspect that the built-in mechanical sensors will operate as expected for Remingtons of this era. If not, it’s easy enough to actuate the switch manually with the hood off.
Also not available on this model is a switch for using two colored ribbons, so I’ll just have to be satisfied with a single color.
Other Functionality
As a later portable, the machine is missing some of the additional niceties of heavier late 50s or early 60s desk models. It does have a “card finger”, though only on the left. The return arm has two positions and a simple friction fit operation—one for use and the other for storage.
The machine has a carriage shift rather than a basket shift. The platen knobs are rather on the small side, and don’t have a typical button for variable line spacing. This line spacing functionality is built into the small switch on the left hand side for single or double spacing, but is labeled as “0” for small adjustments. It doesn’t appear to have a carriage lock of any sort, but does have margin stops and a satisfying bell.
In general, this model is a no-frills portable meant for basic functional typing on the go.
Typeface Sample
The pitch on this machine is 10 characters per inch (pica). The full platen is 85 characters wide.
Since I don’t have a properly inked/fitted ribbon for it yet, I’ll post a typeface sample at a later date.
![White index card with the following quote typed onto it in blue elite typeface:
If I had to keep only one typewriter, if I had to get rid of them all and only had one left... There is a version of this Smith-Corona which is the the Silent Smith-Corona. [...] Somewhere around whenever they started making this, the Smith Corona Silent and various other models that have the same silhouette. The rise on the keys is just almost perfect—going from an N to a Y requires almost nothing. The size of the type is not too big and not too small. But listen to the solidity of the action [types]. This is a solid, solid piece of machine. That's got beautiful highlights like the stripes here and there. The colors are good. I love the green keys. I would probably say that this with a good case would be the one typewriter I would take. And that's why it's kinda out [on my desk] right now. I rotate this one into use an awful lot. [He types: clack, clack] I confess. [clack, clack again as he types.]
—Tom Hanks, in California Typewriter, 2016](https://i0.wp.com/boffosocko.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/wp-17151265045807229784091795759502.jpg?resize=660%2C440&ssl=1)
Phoenix Typewriter
