The fighting may have ended, but puzzles in early 1919 weren’t done with wartime fervor. This maze appeared in the crossword’s place in syndicated outlets starting on January 12, inviting solvers to “drive” the ex-kaiser and his son out of Holland:
It’s hard to imagine a modern puzzle being so whimsical about hated foreign enemies. (“OSAMA is hidden in this word find, kids! Can you spot him?”)
The Boston Globe declined to play this game. After starting the year a couple of weeks behind The Pittsburg Press and other syndicated outlets, it fell further and further out of sync with them until FUN designs like this “barrel” appeared in the Globe months apart from its showing up elsewhere. (Prohibition was ratified that year, wasn’t it? Hmmm.)
FUN’s most notable innovations were on a smaller scale. On January 26, it produced this “Combination Cross-Word/Word Square.” Hard to believe its word-loving readers didn’t know what an octagon was…
…but then, stop signs of the 1910s weren’t yet making that shape part of everyday life.
A few weeks later, a “continuous diagonal diamond” emerged. Like the word octagon, it was “single,” reading the same across and down. Readers submitted their own “continuous diamonds” in response, like this one.
Then a grid appeared that was part normal crossword, part continuous diamonds, and with some answers reading up instead of down.
The feature found other ways to excel. The October 12 grid below introduced itself like so: “Today's cross-word puzzle contains what is believed to be the largest in the English language, besides several other words which are quite long enough for all practical purposes.” The so-called largest word was HONORIFICABILITUDINITY (22), clued as “Honorableness.” The “several others” were two, MISREPRESENTATIONS and SUPERSUBSTANTIALLY (both 18).
Since most people use “several” to mean more than two and antidisestablishmentarianism (28) was already in dictionaries in 1901, are these claims SUPERSUBSTANTIALLY MISREPRESENTATIONS of HONORIFICABILITUDINITY? Discuss.
Bylines appeared less often. Six constructors appeared female, due to female-seeming names or indicators like “Mrs.,” “Miss,” or “her” in the descriptions. Six seemed male for similar reasons. Others were indeterminate or anonymous. Some papers (now including The Pittsburg Press) dropped bylines even when they appeared elsewhere. The Boston Globe kept all its puzzles anonymous.
Introductions were sometimes perfunctory: “Here is another interesting crossword puzzle, as you will doubtless learn when you begin to experience it” (June 6, Pittsburg Press). “Today's crossword puzzle...possibly may acquaint you with one or two unfamiliar words” (August 3, Minneapolis Journal).
Possibly may acquaint you? One or two? Whoa, don’t overpraise it, it’s a crossword, not a cancer cure! Occasionally, some editorial charm seeped in (July 13, Buffalo Courier Express):
Miss Gertrude Franke of Okanchee, Wis., contributes this week's cross-word puzzle. Some of us may have been cultivating an idea that all the good puzzle makers reside in the East, on account of the preponderance of puzzle contributions received from that section of the country. But after you get through with to-day's problem you will always remember Okanchee as the home town of one of the most intricate cross-word puzzles you ever tackled.
As if that wasn’t enough of a blow to the East Coast elite, this followed a month later:
The one big distinguishing feature of this week's crossword puzzle is that it contains five 15-letter words. Once you get them the remainder of the puzzle may be easy to solve—perhaps. Captain F.W. Steffen of the United States Army sent in this puzzle. Maybe he started work on it somewhere in France. He completed it in the demobilization camp at Columbus, Ohio, where he probably got hold of a most powerful dictionary. Anyhow, here's the puzzle.
No, no, keep speculating, August 17 Minneapolis Journal! We have to know whether Captain Steffen will ever find true love! We’re invested now! (Steffen’s design—possibly the first 15x15 crossword—is below.)
The Los Angeles Evening Express promoted the crossword with “Unsolicited Testimonials” which put more focus on the solvers, starting February 23:
“I have derived much pleasure from solving the many cross-word puzzles appearing in your Sunday editions.” -- H.J.R.
“To be without one of your crossword puzzles on a Sunday is just as bad as being marooned on a deserted island.” -- M.J.F.
As you can see, 1919 crosswords didn’t prioritize “all-over interlock.” Simpler designs had such interlock, but the two “double diamonds” appearing that year divided the grid into nine sections, with no relation to each other beyond their squares looking pretty together.
The abovementioned “barrel” had ten. So the November 9 composition below promoted its interlock as an unusual feature: “…every word in this 96-word puzzle connects with some other word at one or more points, there being no isolated corners, centers, or other portions.” While not the equal of modern themelesses, the middle is more “wide open” than most grids of the period.
As these answers’ chaotic, handwritten format might indicate, it was still a disordered time for the crossword. Some syndicators misprinted grids or clues, sideways or upside down, or skipped weeks altogether. These didn’t cost the crossword too much popularity. But at the end of this year and into the next, FUN would commit a more serious lapse. And for that, it would pay a price.
Next: The puzzle awards ceremony you can vote in!