This short history fits neatly into just a hundred years.  There were pianos before then (in Italy, for example) and the square piano survived longer in mainland Europe and particularly America, but the last Square piano made in England was delivered by Broadwoods in 1866.

  In many European countries, the Guild system placed restrictions on the freedom of craftsmen and tradesmen to practice freely: the system maintained standards, it is true, but it did little to encourage, or even allow, enterprise and innovation.  However, in mid eighteenth-century London, the grip of the guilds was weakening, and anyone could develop a successful business through his own ability and hard work.

  Thus is was that Johannes Zumpe arrived from Saxony in about 1750.  He worked for the harpsichord maker Shudi for a while, but soon set up his own workshop in Hanover Square.  To all intents and purposes he ‘invented’ the square piano as we know it, although it is of course developed from earlier instruments, and the clavichord in particular.  Amongst the many things he got right was to give his first pianos a massively stronger base structure, to resist the pull of the much thicker strings.  As we will see from other pages on this website, later makers failed to realise the importance of this, when strings got even thicker.  

  Zumpe's genius was to combine various elements into a small, practical, reliable, and relatively inexpensive instrument.  His first surviving piano is dated 1766, and it seems likely that this was the year in which he introduced the English Square Piano to London.

  These first pianos were barely four feet long, and eighteen inches wide – considerably smaller than even a contemporary spinet.    The 1769 Zumpe below is being guarded by a lovely 1787 Broadwood grand.

  One important adoption made by Zumpe was his use of covered or overspun strings for the bass notes.  By adding weight without reducing flexibility, this technique enabled a relatively short string to give a reasonable sound.  It was used for about the lowest eleven notes.  There is some evidence of the use of covered strings in clavichords, but they were certainly never used in original  harpsichords or spinets.

  Success was rapid, aided in no small part by the encouragement of Johann Christian Bach, the youngest son of the great Johann Sebastian Bach.  The ‘London Bach', as he is sometimes called, arrived  in 1762, and quickly established his reputation.  He became Music Master to Queen Charlotte, and gave what were probably the first public performances on the piano in the late 1760s.  

  Quite soon, Zumpe’s workshop was unable to meet the demand, and he was joined by other makers, working in the same part of London.  All of these makers either came from Germany (e.g. Pohlman, Ganer) or were apparently of German extraction (e.g. Beyer).

  The earliest piano to have passed through my hands (so far) carries the name “Longman Lukey & Co”, but it was almost certainly made by Frederick Beck (another German immigrant) in about 1772. 

  This delightful piano is slightly longer than an early Zumpe (at 4’ 9”) but is still compact, and is identical in almost every detail.  There is no pedal: it has three handstops (the brass knobs in the left corner) to control the bass and treble dampers, and a Buff or Harp stop which mutes the tone with a strip of soft leather.

  Note that these earliest pianos are always on simple trestle stands.

  Moving on about fifteen years, the picture below shows a Ganer piano from 1781.  Christopher Ganer's pianos were always very handsome, and are still sought-after today.

  This piano sits on the ‘French’ stand which was fashionable until about 1806, but is otherwise little changed: it still has the five octave keyboard and handstops.  Note also that the lowest FF# is missing.  This is an intermittent characteristic of early pianos, and there seems to be no firm pattern, even within the instruments from the same maker.

 
  The name of John Broadwood is significant in piano history. Born in 1732 in Oldhamstocks, near Cockburnspath, Scotland, he trained as a joiner, and travelled to London to work for Shudi, the famous harpsichord maker.  He became a partner, married Shudi’s daughter Barbara, and inherited the business in 1773.  He experimented with pianos, and produced his first (a square) in 1780.  His pianos still had the simple English action as invented by Zumpe, but he patented a number of innovations, including an elegant and efficient brass under-damper system, and moving the tuning pins to the back of the case. The piano below was made in 1787, and is almost exactly the same as those made in 1784, Broadwood’s first year of serious production.

  Pianos of this basic design continued to be produced until about 1806.  They very rarely had a pedals, and never handstops.

  Two important innovations were made in the late 18^th century.  In 1786 John Geib patented an action with an escapement, which allowed the hammer to drop back after striking the string.  This minimised the chance of a hammer bouncing and spoiling the sound, and at the same time gave better control at the pp end of the dynamic range.  This paved the way for heavier hammers, thicker strings, and greater volume.  Then in 1794, William Southwell (a distinguished maker from Dublin) patented two important developments: the so-called ‘Irish’ damper, and the extra-note system to allow the extension of the compass to 5½ and then eventually 6 octaves.  Both of these patents were bought-out by Longman & Broderip, and gave their pianos significant advantages over the competition (although they also continued to make simpler models for a few years).

 

  The desire for the keyboard to go beyond five octaves was a natural one, although it is always difficult to say which came first – the instrument or the music.  A few 5½ octave pianos were made without the ‘extra note’ system, by having all the notes in one run, such as this lovely example by Houston.

  The first Broadwood 5½ octave squares, made in 1793, also used this arrangement, but it does cause crowding of the notes and strings in the treble, which limits the available tone available from the necessarily tiny hammers. The ‘extra note’ system (also called ‘additional keys’) caused the top dozen or so hammers to attack through a slot in the soundboard, with the action underneath, seen here in this Clementi piano under restoration – just the ‘extra notes’ action has been replaced, together with the corresponding strings.

  The pianos carrying the names ‘Longman & Broderip’ (later Clementi & Co) are still held in high regard, with their light and responsive action, and sweet tone.  They are also frequently graced with beautiful flower paintings.

  If only we knew the identity of the artist!

  Between 1785 and about 1810, many pianos were made with various combinations of the ‘old’ (single action, lever-dampers with whalebone springs) and the ‘new’ (escapement or ‘double’ action and Irish dampers).  Patent restrictions were part of this story, but there were many agreements, infringements, and lawsuits!  By 1807, Broadwood pianos adopted both innovations, but it is notable that Broadwoods never had nameboard paintings.  About this time, six turned legs became usual, replacing the French stand, as on this Clementi. 

  Gilt-brass collars, casters, paterae, and other embellishments were also available as we enter the Regency period.  These are perhaps the most showy of all square pianos.  The compass was also extended to six octaves somewhere around 1815, although it was not usual until ten years later.  The fine piano below, made by Tomkison in the 1820s, is remarkable in having a compass of 6½ octaves.  Note also the use of Rosewood, not only for the nameboard but for  the whole case of this very special instrument.  Rosewood was, however, usual for nameboards after the early 1820s: compare this with the lighter treatment of the earlier pianos, with their sycamore or satinwood nameboards.  

  We often consider this rather sombre, dark-toned fashion to be ‘Victorian’, but it is worth noting that fashion was moving in this direction at least fifteen years before Victoria’s accession.

  Moving on a few years, the Broadwood below is typical of what for many of us was our first square piano.  It dates from about 1830, when Broadwood’s dominance of the market was at its height.  This one has an iron string-plate and strengthening bar, and the usual six-octave keyboard.  Such pianos turn up quite often in good condition and at very reasonable prices, because there were a lot of them in the first place, and they are more robust and reliable than earlier types.

  

  The final example in this short history is another Broadwood (below) made in 1854, and a fine example of the very last English Square Pianos.

  This one is again in rosewood, and has a compass of nearly seven octaves – almost the same as a modern piano.  These handsome instruments have a splendid tone, but they are  large and heavy.  The very first ‘cottage’ upright pianos had appeared around 1800, but they took some years to establish themselves.  However, by about 1850, they had become the  usual domestic instrument.  This Broadwood square was made in 1854, and took up considerably more floor-space than an upright: it was also more expensive.  The square was now caught between the upright and the grand, and gradually declined in popularity.  Very few were made after 1860, and the very last English square was delivered by Broadwoods in 1866.

The Square Piano in America

Special thanks to Tom Strange for this fascinating contribution.  

Square pianos started coming into America while it remained a colony of Great Britain, mostly imported by wealthy individuals who had purchased them in London for their homes in the colonies. Importation declined but was not entirely stopped during the revolution (1776-1783), though it was far easier to smuggle in smaller items than a pianoforte. The importation of pianos for resale only began after the successful conclusion of hostilities, and began to thrive in the late 1790s. John Jacob Astor was importing pianos for sale immediately after the war in 1783! These were usually made by Longman and Broderip and perhaps the odd Broadwood, though after 1795 a number of other makes would start to appear in the States as well. Clementi did a very vigorous business after the turn of the century here.

In addition to importation, a local trade in building was established in Philadelphia and New York. John Behrent built the first pianos in Philadelphia in 1775, with one Behrent reportedly at the Smithsonian in Washington. Charles Albrecht was building in the 1780s in Philadelphia as well, as seen below at the National Music Museum in Vermillion SD.

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By the end of the 18^th C several other large cities had a piano trade started, including Benjamin Crehore in Milton Massachusetts.

With the arrival of John Geib in America in the summer of 1797, a major builder from London was now on hand to begin a piano building tradition  in numbers far exceeding the 10 to 12 instruments per annum from shops like that of Crehore. His first instruments, built in the Bowery in Manhattan, were copies of what he had been building for Longman and Broderip to a number in excess of 4000 instruments during his London period. Geib, through his sons Adam and John Jr., and later William, would be one of the largest suppliers in America through the early 1830s, and the company survived in name until 1870. All Geib instruments made in America through the first half of the 19^th C seem to have used his escapement action, combined with the Southwell inspired ‘Dolly’ dampers, though these were now fitted to a separate lever rather than the piano key, to allow the dampers to be raised without affecting the touch. The piano industry that followed adopted this action for early American instruments. Only the most provincial builders in what was then the westernmost states such as Kentucky and Ohio relied on a single action design.

             Used with permission of Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

The square piano held a certain fascination for early American buyers, and the grand size and shape was distinctly held as unattractive and undesirable. The country was caught in the thrall of egalitarian unity, and the grand would remain a sign of the elitist until well into the 19^th C. For that reason it is possible to find early squares with some regularity, even though production in the States was slow to catch up to that in London and elsewhere.

The designs of square pianos in America closely followed that in London during the first quarter of the 19^th C, with design features trailing the London tastes by a few months to a year or so. Pianos with six legs for instance seem to appear around 1808, while certain design such as the curved front corners are more commonly encountered in American pianos from the period of 1812 to 1815 than from London. Below is a Geib and Sons in the Sheraton style, circa 1813.

Although the Americans were loath to adopt the grand, they were not at all shy about fancy and colorful squares. Robert and William Nunns built for Dubois and Stodart of NY, and flights of fancy were given free rein!

Here we see the emergence of the pedestal stand which was employed for all the highest end pianos, and many made by Duncan Phyfe for the trade. Dust boards were decorated in gilt stars and leaf patterns, either on fine mahogany or brightly painted pine or poplar.

In Maryland and Ohio, German immigrants developed their own style of square pianoforte manufacture, often using modified Viennese actions or variations on the English action not seen elsewhere. Below is an example from the shop of Reuss, Cincinnati.

             Photo courtesy of Frank Renfrow, Cincinnati

Following the introduction of an iron string plate by Broadwood in 1822, Alpheus Babcock emerged with the first full frame metal plate to support the string tension, in 1825. Reaction to iron in the piano was not immediately positive, and it would take 25 years for full iron plates to become relatively common in American squares, but the string plate solved a number of concerns and was rapidly adopted.

Overspun wire went from the open spiral to a close spun copper on a steel core, to allow greater power. The action continued to be a close copy of the basic Geib style with escapement, and Southwell dampers through the early 1830s, but by the close of the decade a new action introduced by Robert and William Nunns was making headway that was simpler to build.

The “French” action, so called because a close design was subsequently patented by Erard in Paris, is a functional simplification of the earlier escapement. Here the jack sits against the hammer butt directly, so consequently it is easier to build, but prone to rapid wearing out. When found today these invariable need much work, and tolerances are very close!

A design trend that took hold in America particularly was the Gothic style, and was reflected in piano design in the period 1845-1855, with four fat legs (usually hollow, with hidden recessed castors and fine veneer) and a Gothic arch motif carved on the front panels, as in the Nunns and Clark of ~1848 below.

With iron framing now in the picture, and the heavier strings it can support, as well as the successes in England at expositions and trade exhibits, the American piano industry was roaring. Larger and larger squares popped into existence, moving quickly from the standard 6 octave models to 7 and 7.5 octaves. Between 1849 and 1854 the first overstrung scale type (bass strings cross over the tenor to a separate bridge) was produced by piano inventors Frederick Mathushek and Jacob Greener.

After about 1860 the overstrung square grand became ubiquitous.  The move to larger and more powerful instruments was led by Chickering, perhaps the most prominent name in America in the mid century.

Chickering pianos featured a fancy cast string plate in many star and circular ‘crown’ designs, beginning with an early design like a wagon wheel, and culminating in an elaborate fern leaf and floral affair.

The taste in case wood shifted from Santa Domingo and Cuban mahogany which was becoming harder to come by, to rosewood  as in this Adam Stodart square of Feb, 1851, and occasionally walnut, though mahogany continues to appear throughout the 19^th C,.

Growing rapidly after 1860, Steinway and Son rose to prominence with high quality pianos including squares such as those shown below. By the late 1800s there were nearly 1000 piano manufacturers and ‘stencil’ makes available, supplied under whatever name you wanted by firms such as Steck. The most prominent names made grands, squares and uprights, but many companies continued to focus on squares until their demise.

Upright pianos did not begin to gain widespread acceptance until nearly 1880 in America, though production levels were up sharply following the Civil War. The square grand piano was considered the showpiece of the family, and any aspiring middle class worker sought to buy one, even second hand, to display proudly in the parlor. At prices ranging from $260 to $700 for generally acceptable pianos in 1850, they were a years’ wages for a day laborer! By the mid 1880s the square grand had reached its zenith in America. Nearly 7 feet long, 40 inches deep, and weighing in at over 700 pounds, these were massive pieces of furniture. Moving one today we wonder at the magnitude of it all, as with the Mathushek below.

As if mass alone was not enough, in America decoration would also reach its ultimate peak, with name boards dripping in gilt, painted cameos, gemstone and mother of pearl inlay, with mother of pearl keys, as in the (Henry) Miller and Cummings example below!

Upright piano sales eclipsed the square grand around 1895, and by 1900 it was clear that the future of the square was to be very short. The trouble was that a great glut of square pianos were keeping prices down for new instruments. It was decided that something needed to be done to turn public desire away from square grands. On May 24, 1904 a well publicized event was staged by a conglomerate of piano dealers to eliminate the square grand, by staging a ceremonial bonfire.

Later reports would put the number of squares burned at over 1000, but the more likely number is fewer than 50, just owing to the logistics of assembling the things into a proper pile. In any case the era of the square grand was over in America, with the last ones made in 1905. Mathushek briefly resurrected the design in the 1930s to hearken back to old times, with an abbreviated size instrument, but owing to the depression and general indifference it met with, the experiment was short lived.

In America today, the large square grand enjoys the poorest possible reputation of any musical instrument extant. The actions were never capable of the performance of a traditional grand, though they were superior to many uprights. But mostly, they suffer from incompatibility of parts. Action parts for most upright and grand pianos can be replaced with modern equivalents when they break without much adjustment. Not so the square, where every part needs individual attention. If a wrest plank needs replacing, same story. The American piano technician sees squares as a ball of worms, to be avoided at all costs. It does not help that most squares have seen 100 years of neglect before a technician is called, and customer expectations are for the thing to be ‘tuned’ i.e., cost, oh, about $150 to make it right. Uh Huh…

They are somewhat of a difficult reach for tuning, though once set they tend to hold nicely if everything is in order. For a performance, they work best for period music. However, the serious piano student is so closely and carefully focused on one type of sound, one type of feel, and one technique, that there is no room for these monsters. Recordings on large American square grands are extremely infrequent; they sound like normal pianos, feel different, and in the end, fail to express enough additional color to make it worthwhile attempting music on them for the studio. Professional restorers exist in the States to help you with your square grand, and mostly produce competent work, at prices that reach and exceed $10K! You will be assured that your piano will sell for at least twice this, and occasionally some actually do, but largely, restoration of a large American square grand is a matter of preserving a sentimental attachment to a family heirloom.

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