Figure 134.—Walter Hunt, 1796-1860. From a daguerreotype owned by his great-grandson, C. N. Hunt. (Smithsonian photo 32066-A.)
Walter Hunt was born near Martinsburg, New York, on July 29, 1796. Although little is known of Hunt’s early childhood, we do learn from the author of his obituary, which appeared in Scientific American, July 9, 1860, that even as a child he was more interested in people and what he could do for them than in what he could do to insure his own welfare. He is said to have devoted his life to his friends, frequently giving away his last cent when he did not have enough to provide for himself.
There is no record that Hunt maintained a regular business other than the occupation of inventor. His interests were numerous and varied. He received his first patent on June 26, 1826, for a machine for spinning flax and hemp. During the next 33 years he patented 26 ideas. In addition he sold or dropped several more. His second patent was for a coach alarm, and through the years he also received patents for a variety of things including a knife sharpener, heating stove, ice boat, nail machine, inkwell, fountain pen, safety pin, bottle stopper, sewing machine (1854), paper collars, and a reversible metallic heel.
ELIAS HOWE, JR.
Elias Howe, Jr., was born on his father’s farm in Spencer, Massachusetts, on July 9, 1819. This was one of those barren New England farms with many rock-filled acres. All possible ingenuity was necessary to secure a living. The elder Howe supplemented his farming by having a small gristmill, a sawmill, and also by manufacturing cards for the fast-growing cotton industry of New England. Elias Jr.’s earliest recollections were of the latter. He worked with his brothers and sisters sticking wire teeth into strips of leather to make these cotton cards, but, not being very good at this, his family decided to let him “live out” with a neighboring farmer. (Children were leased in those days; they received their board and keep in exchange for chores they would perform.) After a few years, Elias returned home and worked in his father’s mill until he was sixteen. Then, against the wishes of his family, he went to Lowell, Massachusetts. Here, he obtained a learner’s place in a machine shop where cotton-spinning machinery was made and repaired.
In 1837, when a financial panic hit the country, Howe lost his job. He then decided to go to Boston, and this marked a turning point in his career. In Boston he met Ari Davis, a maker of mariners’ instruments and scientific apparatus. Howe began to work in Davis’ shop, a place to which inventors often came to ask advice about their ideas. Davis sometimes helped them, but just as often he shouted at them in anger—he is said to have been one of the noisiest men in Boston. One day Howe overheard his employer bellowing at a man who had brought a knitting machine to the shop to seek Davis’ advice. “Why are you wasting your time over a knitting machine?” said Davis, “Take my advice, try something that will pay. Make a sewing machine.” “It can’t be done,” was the reply. “Can’t be done?” shouted Davis, “Don’t tell me that. Why—I can make a sewing machine myself.” “If you do,” interrupted the capitalist, “I can make an independent fortune for you.” Davis, like most men of many words, often talked of more than he planned to do. He never attempted to invent a sewing machine.
But the loud voices interested Howe, who, it is said, determined then that he would produce a sewing machine and win the fortune that the prosperous-looking man had asserted was waiting for such a deed. A kind of lameness since birth had made physical tasks painful for Howe, and he perhaps felt that this would offer an opportunity to become independent of hard physical work.
After marrying on a journeyman machinist’s pay of $9 a week, Howe’s health worsened and by 1843 was so bad that he had to stop work for days at a time. His wife was forced to take in sewing to maintain the family. It was the sight of his wife toiling at her stitches together with the pressure of poverty that recalled to Howe his earlier interest in a machine to sew. He decided to make an earnest attempt to invent one. Watching his wife for hours at a time, he tried to visualize a machine that would duplicate the motions of the arm. After many trials, he conceived the idea of using an eye-pointed needle in combination with a shuttle to form a stitch. It is possible that, as some authors state, the solution appeared to him in a dream, a manifestation of the subconscious at work. Others have suggested that he may have learned of Hunt’s machine. There is a general similarity in the two, not only in the combination of eye-pointed needle and shuttle but in the overhanging arm and vertical cloth suspension.