Sometimes, you buy stuff secondhand, at auctions, at flea-markets, from collectors’ fairs, and you look at it, and think:

“Gee, it’s nice!…Pity it doesn’t work…”

That was the situation I found myself in when last year, I bought a very nice, antique straight razor with ivory scales. The scales were in decent condition…but the same could not be said for the blade housed within them. Ground almost into nonexistence, and as blunt as the flat side of an axe, no amount of a makeover was ever going to revive the career of this blade…which was a shame, because razors with ivory scales are beautiful..and hard to find.

The good news is that straight razors are very simply constructed, and I was certain that with the right equipment and tools, it would be possible to remove the worn out blade, find another blade from another, trashed razor, and replace it.

Fortunately, cheap, broken razors are all over the place, and earlier this year, I stumbled across a perfect candidate for my project at my local flea-market. For $5.00, I nabbed up a square-point BENGALL in excellent condition…bar the fact that the scales…which I judged to be some kind of celluloid…were literally crumbling to dust.

I tore the broken scales off with pliers, and using a file, I ground off the flange around the top of the pivot pin. I popped out the washer, pulled the whole pin and all the other washers out of the scales, threw the scales away, and started in on the blade, polishing away all the rust and staining – once I installed this blade in the new scales, this would be impossible to do, so it had to be done now.

The next step was more delicate: Removing the worn out blade from the ivory scales:

I taped the ivory, and then set in with a file to grind down as much metal as possible. I peeled off the now paper-thin washer that held the pin in place, and with a punch and hammer, I drove the pin out through the scales and blade. This loosened everything up enough to swivel the scale out of the way, drop the pin out, and remove the blade, all at once.

Unfortunately, the ivory, being as old as it is, was more fragile than I had anticipated…which is saying a lot, because the ivory was already wafer-thin and delicate as hell! As I half-expected, the ivory split across the holes drilled for the pins. Apparently, restoring this razor was going to be a bit more challenging than I had first hoped.

Simply gluing the ivory back together would never work – it would have to be reinforced. I found the thinnest strips of steel sheeting that I could find – barely thicker than tin-foil – and cut out rectangular strips which I could use to glue the ivory onto, and then glue that back onto the main body of the scales.

One benefit of the steel strips being so thin is that they’re very easy to cut with ordinary scissors – or fold, or tear…or even punch holes in! So I punched two holes in the strips so that they could still hold the ivory together, while having somewhere for the pin to go through.

I glued everything back together and left it overnight to set. The next step was relatively easy: Putting the razor back together, with the working, replacement blade.

To prevent wear, friction and jamming, razor-blades are inserted into straight razors very carefully in the following manner:

First: A washer or collar goes onto the pin. The head of the pin is “peened” or hammered flat so that it flares out at the end – this stops the collar from dropping off.

Next, the collared pin is fed through one hole in the scales. Another washer is dropped in on the other side, so that the scale is sandwiched between two washers. The razor blade is then dropped in on top of this, and a third washer is added on top of that. This means that the razor is always sliding against smooth metal – not against the body of the scales, which could damage them, cause friction, or jamming.

The other half of the scales is fed onto the pin through another pin-hole, and then a fourth washer is popped in on top of that, when the pin comes out the other side.

So far, so good. I set it all up and left it to dry overnight.

In the morning when the epoxy glue had hardened and the steel strips and ivory had all been bound firmly to the body of the scales which they had broken off from, it was time to do the last step of the reassembly process: Affixing the blade permanently to the scales.

Traditionally, this is done by filing down the head of the pin until it isn’t more than two or three milimeters above the top of the scale. With the collar or washer in place to provide protection, the head of the pin is – once again – peened over.

This is where I really was rather worried – peening the pin would mean putting the razor on my jeweler’s anvil, lining it up, and then belting the top of the pin with my ballpeen hammer to flatten out the head and mushroom the edge over the hole and washer, to keep everything in place.

Normally, this is easy – hold it still – and literally hit the nail on the head. Or it would be easy, if I wasn’t trying to fix a razor with fragile, brittle, antique ivory scales…

I had serious misgivings about whether the ivory would be able to withstand the shock of the hammer-strikes, but in the end, my fears were unfounded. That said – peening the top of the pin enough to hold the razor together, and stop the collar from popping out – took considerably more effort than I had anticipated – and I was hammering away at it for quite a while!

In the end, the results speak for themselves. The final touches were a bit of filing and sanding to clean up the glue and ivory, and of course – a very, very thorough honing and sharpening, to get the blade back up to snuff…

The results aren’t perfect, but the razor is intact, functional, elegant, and has a rustic, vintage charm to it. The razor swings smoothly on the pin and the scales have held together admirably, considering what’s been done to them. The blade opens and closes flawlessly, and is perfectly centered, preventing any possibility of the edge of the blade striking the scales – which is a huge pain in the ass, because it would indicate manufacturing faults – none of which exist here!

A beautifully polished, sharpened blade has been given a new home, and a pair of creamy-coloured ivory scales have been given a new lease on life.

In this final photograph, you can see just how dramatic the difference is between the two blades – the original German one, made in Solingen (on the left), and the replacement Bengall one, made in Sheffield, (installed between the ivory scales, on the right).

The installation of the new blade was both easier, and more difficult, than I had initially expected it to be. Easier, because the steps required to make it happen were not really that difficult to execute, but also more difficult, because of the unexpected steps that had to be taken, over the course of the refurbishment.

Thanks for reading my latest restoration project! I hope you enjoyed it and will return again soon. Fixing antiques and breathing new life into them has always been one of my big hobbies. This isn’t my first antique restoration, and certainly won’t be my last – but it is my first restoration of an antique straight razor! Despite the setbacks, I think we can confidently call this a success.

Here, you can see the completed razor alongside the two other ivory-scaled razors in my collection…

I have been updating a few things on my blog over the past week or so, and one of those things was removing and updating the links and information in the “EXTERNAL LINKS” page on the side.

I have now added in a link for my eBay page! I’ve been selling antiques and collectibles online since 2015, and since the start of the pandemic this year, I’ve been slowly moving across to eBay.

As of the time of this posting, I’ve been selling on there for about six months. Feel free to shop and browse all the stuff on sale.

While I sell mostly to Australian customers, where possible, I’m also happy to sell to international customers, too. Just keep in mind that obviously, international sales will incur higher postage costs and longer delivery-times (especially with the coronavirus pandemic going around at the moment). If you decide to buy multiple lots, postage will be combined where possible, to save costs.

So, feel free to look around and bid! I’m also open to reasonable offers on most items. The link is the red button down below.

My eBay Page!

Thanks for looking, everybody!

There was a time – now almost without living memory – when the first meeting between two hitherto unknown parties – started with the exchange of one’s cards, be they simple calling-cards, or more elaborate business-cards.

Calling cards and business-cards of all kinds, date back centuries, all the way to the Georgian era. In an age when refinement, politeness and decorum ruled supreme, there were prescribed ways of doing literally, absolutely everything, and guides and rulebooks to social, business, and visiting etiquette had a lot to say on the subject of cards.

In this posting, I’ll be going over card-cases – the little boxes, sleeves, or cases, in which these once virtually mandatory slips of paper were carried around in.

What is a Calling Card?

I have covered calling cards in an earlier posting, so I won’t go into too much depth here. If you want to find out more, check the previous posting here.

Essentially, calling cards were invented as a way to identify and introduce people if you were moving around in polite society. The idea that you just barged into someone’s house or office unannounced was considered the height of rudeness in the 1800s! You never just shoehorned your way into someone’s home or office without announcing yourself! How dare you!?

Presenting your card was a way for the occupant, owner or businessman, to know who was calling upon him, or her, and whether they wanted to accept the call, or not. You weren’t ‘visiting’ people, you were ‘calling’ on them. Hence ‘calling’ cards.

Almost everybody who could afford them, had calling cards. They could be small, large, medium-sized, plain, or incredibly elaborate. At the very least, cards contained the bearer’s name. As card-cutting and printing technology improved with the Industrial Revolution, cards became more and more elaborate and might include not only your name, but also your address, any professional, courtesy, military or aristocratic ranks or titles, your occupation…and by the early 1900s – things like your telephone number. It was around this time that the line that once separated ‘calling cards’ and ‘business cards’ started becoming more and more blurred, and nowadays, they’re usually one and the same.

In an age before voicemail, emails and paging, calling cards were a way to leave a discrete, neat, polite message, if you called on someone, and they weren’t available. You left your card, to show that you had been there. You might even write a message on the back, to indicate when you might return, how the recipient might contact you, or the reason for your call.

Calling cards became such a fixture of polite society and proper business relations that almost as soon as cards could be manufactured in abundance, card-carriers started needing to find ways to store their cards. It wouldn’t do to keep them stuffed into your pockets or crammed into your wallet along with the shilling coins, half-crowns, silver dollars and dimes – oh no! To hand over a wrinkled, marked, torn or otherwise imperfect card was a huge faux-pas!

It was for this reason that card-cases were invented.

The Victorian Card Case

Card-cases only started being manufactured from the mid-1800s onwards. Literacy, and more importantly – manufacturing processes – were increasing in efficiency and quality, which allowed for the creation of cheap calling cards, and this was what caused the creation of card-cases. Such cases were made of all kinds of materials, but their general manufacture doesn’t predate the Victorian era – cards simply just weren’t enough of a thing before the 1840s, to justify manufacturing cases specifically to hold them.

Card-cases were often made of mother-of-pearl or abalone, tortoise-shell, silver, or if you could afford it – even ivory! Cases varied in size from tiny, to enormous! Unlike today, there was no standard size in Victorian times, for how large a card had, or should, be.

Today, to aid the manufacture of things like wallets, briefcases, and card-cases, all cards – business-cards, credit-cards, transport and ID cards, even drivers’ license cards – are all made to the same dimensions. This sort of standardization did not exist in Victorian times, which is why Victorian card cases could vary widely in size, from a width of barely over an inch, to wider than two inches, from a length of just over three inches, to up to nearly five!

The majority of card cases were eventually standardised (more or less) at between three inches wide and four inches long, and maybe 2-3/8 of an inch thick – enough to hold a decent number of cards, while out and about on the town.

Since card-cases were often a reflection of the owner’s personal tastes, they came in a wide variety of styles, from plain to engraved, chased, repoussed…some cases were even sold with high-relief images of famous buildings on them, like cathedrals, the Crystal Palace, or notable country houses on the sides. Cases in silver, depicting particularly famous buildings, or which were made by particular silversmiths, are the ones which command the highest prices.

Buying an Antique Card Case

There’s lots of considerations to be made when buying an antique, or vintage card-case, and here, we’ll be going through them, bit by bit…

Size

When it comes to card-cases, size matters. And it matters more than you might think, because, like I said earlier – Victorian cards were not made to any standard size. Because of this, card cases also came in a wide variety of sizes. When purchasing a vintage one for your own cards, it’s important to know whether the case you like is even going to fit the cards you’ll put into it.

For this reason, when buying a card case, always carry a card (or even a slip of paper on you) which you intend to put into said case, to make sure that the cards fit in, and more importantly, that the lid closes!

Defects

For longevity, beauty and strength, most antique card-cases were made of silver, usually of a very thin gauge, or thickness. When buying an antique card-case, make sure that there aren’t any defects that will compromise the case’s usability.

For example: Keep an eye out for wonky or cracked hinges, splitting or separating seams, cracks from metal fatigue, or even wear-holes, from where the silver has been polished so extensively that it’s worn right through the metal! Also make sure that the case opens and closes smoothly and that the lid won’t accidentally drop open unexpectedly.

Materials

The vast majority of card cases were made of silver, but many other materials were also used. Popular ones included mother of pearl, abalone shell, and tortoise-shell. Since these materials were fragile, they were often just used for decoration. Usually, it was a veneer of shell, over a case made of wood, onto which the slices of shell were simply glued, sanded and polished.

The one exception to this was ivory: Often, card-cases made of ivory were made of sheets, strips and panels of ivory glued and riveted together. Ivory could be sliced thicker than tortoise-shell or abalone, which meant that the panels were stronger, allowing you to manufacture cases out of ivory using the ivory alone, without wood to reinforce it.

When purchasing a case made of natural materials, keep an eye on cracking, but also glue-failures. Over time, old glue dries out, gets brittle, and then the panels of nacre or shell, crack and drop off. Usually these flaws are repairable, but it’s important to check for these things in advance – once they fall off, these decorative pieces can be easily broken, and it’s better to know about this stuff before you buy it, rather than after, so that you can make allowances for it.

Another thing to be aware of is lifting and warping. Natural materials such as ivory, and tortoise-shell can dry out over the decades, and this drying can cause panels of ivory or sheets of shell, to crack, split, warp, and lift away from the wooden backing upon which they’ve been glued. Avoid any cases with defects like these, as they can be very fragile and difficult to repair. Trying to glue down a warped piece of ivory or shell will only cause undue stress on the panel of natural material, which could cause it to crack!

Any pieces which have simply dropped off due to age, however, can usually be sanded smooth to remove the old glue, and then simply carefully glued back into place, using modern adhesives, with no problem.

Clasps and Hinges

Apart from the materials that the case is made of, also check the workmanship of any moving parts. On card-cases, this usually means paying attention to the hinge that holds the lid together, and the clasp that keeps it shut!

Not all card cases have clasps or catches, but when they do, they’re usually spring-loaded, with little brass catches or hooks, and release-buttons built into the edge of the case. Make sure that the clasps hold the lid firmly shut and that the release-button can open it easily. The majority of silver card-cases were simply friction-closed, but cases made of wood and clad in natural materials had clasps, to ensure proper closure.

Pay particular attention to the main stress-point on all antique card cases: The hinge. These are often very small, and are only held in by a couple of rivets or a soldering-job, and a very small, possibly peened-over, hinge pin. This is where things like metal fatigue happens, and where pins, rivets and screws can work themselves loose or pop out.

Card-Cases Today

You can still buy calling-card or business-card cases today, and a number of companies still manufacture them, however, for anything flashier than punched steel, or brass, expect to pay a premium. In most cases, purchasing a card-case in sterling silver (the most common material in the old days), is best done secondhand – antique or otherwise vintage silver card-cases can usually be picked up in good condition, for anywhere between $200 – $500+, depending on condition. Cases made by famous manufacturers command a premium, and can have asking prices of well over $1,000. By comparison a brand-new silver card-case, from say, a company like Tiffany & Co., can cost upwards of nearly $700!

It’s one of the most common tropes of the Golden Age of Detective Fiction, from the 1880s to the 1950s! It appears in everything from Sherlock Holmes to Peter Wimsey, Poirot to Miss Marple – the vital clue – the incriminating message – the saving grace – written on a sheet of paper, flipped over, and then blotted on a sheet of blotting paper, which the killer, extortionist, blackmailer or other careless desperado – then – conveniently – forgets to dispose of! As Holmes would say: “There’s nothing so important as the study of trifles!”

Since the second half of the 1800s, desk blotters or blotting pads, have been a staple on every well-appointed desktop. Designed to hold a sheet of blotting paper where it was convenient, and handy for keeping spills, stains and marks off of the surface of your – presumably – very beautiful, and expensive desk – desk-blotters served a multitude of purposes: Coaster, food-tray, jotting-pad, blotter, and even a launchpad for the greatest ideas in the world!…the sheet of blotting paper detailing the original design for the “Crystal Palace” is one of the most famous in the world!

I bought this blotter pad at a local antiques store about three years ago for just $10.00. It was in decent shape, but the more I looked at it, the more I realised just how tired, worn out and in need of attention, it really was. The surface of the pad was covered in ring-marks from old drinks and the triangular, leather corner tabs were peeling and lifting from old age and the glue used to adhere it, becoming unstuck.

Fed up with constantly having to glue the damaged tabs back down, over, and over, and over again, I decided to just pull the whole thing apart, and do a proper restoration!

Restoring the Blotting Pad

The first step was to do something about all these ugly marks on the surface of the pad. The actual structure of the pad was in excellent condition, but it wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at. I found some scrap leather in a nice, dark blue colour, and started measuring and stretching and trimming it to the right size. I spread down glue and pressed the leather over the top of the old pad. The leather would make the pad look nicer, it would last longer, and the softness of the leather would provide cushioning for writing – so it didn’t feel like you were trying to carve your name into the desk while writing.

To hide the raw edges of the leather, the next step was to fit in a ribboned border, with some matching blue ribbon. This was easy enough, although it took rather more glue than I had anticipated!

The final step was the hardest: Attaching the blotting paper tabs.

The original tabs were very flimsy – they were literally paper-thin sheets of leather glued and folded around pieces of paper! Something this delicate would be impossible for me to repair, so I decided to cut away all the excess underside paper, leaving me with just the upper leather tabs – the only part which would show.

I found some scrap leather, and using the tabs as stencils, I traced and cut out four identical triangles of leather. I glued the original leather tabs onto their new, leather backing pieces, and then I glued, and nailed, the tabs into the corners of the blotter pad. The pad was more than thick enough to fit the nails, and the corner-tabs would hide the unfinished edges of the ribbon border around the edge of the pad.

I had planned to just glue the tabs down, like they had been originally, but it was soon obvious that the thickness of the blotting paper would simply pull the tabs right up off of the surface of the blotter, and no amount of glue would be strong enough to hold the tabs down. So in the end, I decided that a few, tiny, discrete nails, carefully hammered into the right places, would be ideal. They would be barely noticeable, they’d fit in well, and be so small as to be virtually invisible.

The whole process took less than a day, and the end result was simple, elegant, and robust.

Concluding Remarks

Breathing new life into this battered and obviously well-used blotting pad was much easier than I originally thought it might be. My greatest fear was tearing the original tabs, because of how thin they were, but the whole restoration process was surprisingly easy. I had a choice, when resurfacing the pad, of using brown or blue leather, but since most of the pads I’ve seen were almost always some shade of brown, or other heavy, dark colour, I chose blue so that it would stand out more, and I think the results speak for themselves!

Once I’ve fitted out the blotter with fresh blotting paper, it’ll be ready to grace another desktop for another 100 years!

If you visit any decent department-store or online retailer, watch-shop or jewelry shop, there’s no end of variety when it comes to boxes, cabinets and cases in which to store your jewels, cufflinks, earrings, necklaces…and watches!

For the avid watch-collector, a watch-winder or watch cabinet to store your wristwatches in, becomes an absolute necessity when your collection grows to beyond three pieces. If nothing else, the empty spaces in the cabinet serve as incentives to buy more watches!!

Back when it was common for men to carry pocketwatches, jewelers and retailers, watchmakers and tobacconists used to sell all kinds of pocketwatch accessories. Fobs, chains, cabinets, and cases. They also used to sell individual pocketwatch stands where you could put your watch when you weren’t wearing it. These might sit on your desk, so that your watch could double as a desk-clock, or else, on your bedside table, where you would place your watch before going to sleep each night.

Pocketwatch stands are still manufactured today, and you can buy them easily online, but for an antique pocketwatch, the best thing to store it in when you’re not wearing it is an antique pocketwatch stand!…and that’s precisely what this posting will be about.

The Watch-Stand: A Closer Look

The stand was made by the Birmingham firm of Syner & Beddowes in the early 1900s, making it well over 110 years old. It’s made of wood, clad in a paper-thin leather veneer. The interior was originally bright green silk and felt, padded out with panels of wood and cardboard. The front of the stand is faced with a panel of sterling silver.

Stands such as this were common in the late 1800s and early 1900s. They came from huge ones for massive, eight-day “goliath” pocketwatches, all the way down to tiny dinky little ones, for ladies’ pocketwatches. They would’ve been purchased from any watch-shop or jeweler’s shop which catered to a discerning clientele.

Why Restore the Case?

I wanted to try and restore the stand for a number of reasons. First, they’re getting pretty rare these days, so throwing it out wasn’t an option. Two, it wasn’t too badly damaged, and it looked repairable. Three, I wanted somewhere to put my watch when I wasn’t wearing it!

Nobody makes watch stands like this anymore, and sure as hell, nobody is making a living out of restoring them, so the only option if I wanted to use the stand, was to fix it myself.

Restoring the Watch Stand…

After deciding to take the plunge, I went to get all the tools I needed: Files, sandpaper, a chisel, pocketknife, glue, etc, etc. And then, the first stage began.

Step ONE: The Teardown

A ‘teardown’ is restorers’ jargon for the disassembly process. It’s usually called a ‘teardown’ because that’s literally what you’re doing – ripping the item apart, and getting rid of any old pieces that can’t be used anymore. While it is fun to rip things apart, you do have to exercise caution. On an object this small and this old and fragile, any overexertion or undue eagerness could destroy the stand forever, and render it irretrievably damaged.

The first step was to remove the ring inside the base of the stand, which holds the pocketwatch in place. This had at least two big rips in it, which meant that it no longer held its shape (and therefore, was unable to hold a watch). The ring was simply glued in place, so it was pretty easy to just grab it and carefully peel it out. When I removed it, I was surprised to find that it was comprised of exactly one piece of green felt which had simply been folded over a stiff, cardboard ring…and simply glued in place! No wonder it didn’t last!

The next step was to remove the circular pad of green felt underneath the ring. This also, was pretty easy. Underneath this, I found several cardboard discs, which had been used to pad out the watch-stand, and to stop any watch housed inside, from rattling around. for something so small and narrow, there were a surprisingly large number of these cardboard discs inside! Up to half a dozen or more!

The next thing to remove was the felt-covered wooden base which the ring, the cardboard discs and the felt liner, all rested on, or in. This was somewhat more difficult, as it was glued very firmly into the back of the watch stand! If I exerted too much force, then the whole thing would break apart. Using my pocketknife, I slowly jemmied away the base from the back of the stand, cutting and levering up, slicing away the glued-down cardboard and crusted glue and wood, until the whole piece finally popped out as one.

Step TWO: Building a New Base.

Using the old base as a guide, I cut out a panel of plywood, chiseled and sanded it to the right size, and then covered it in blue cotton fabric which I glued down over the wood. I folded everything over, trimmed off the excess, covered the raw edges with another piece of the same fabric, and then glued it on.

Putting the new base into the stand was surprisingly easy – just shove it in. The friction alone will hold everything in place! Before doing this, however, I took advantage of the stand’s now relative lack of structural integrity to replace the ribbon strap that originally ran from the inside of the back of the stand, out the back of the case, and which attached to the backside of the prop-stand that juts out from behind the stand. This strap allows the watch stand to…stand up…and lean back at a slight angle. Without it, the prop just slides open and the whole thing topples over. This was a very easy fix, using some ribbon and glue.

Once that was done, I started rebuilding the ring that fits on top of the new, blue base!

Step THREE: Replacing the Ring.

Replacing the ring was of paramount importance. It had to hold the watch in place, and it had to stop it rattling around (something that the old ring couldn’t do because of its poor condition and flimsy construction). So for this ring to last, it had to be made of the most solid materials possible.

I used a piece of PVC drainpipe.

Our house had been renovated fairly recently, and the builders had left behind several sections of unused drainpipe. One of these was precisely the diameter that I needed for the watch-stand. Now, it was simply a matter of measuring the right dimensions, cutting off a section, sanding it to the right size, and fitting it in.

To hide the fact that I used a plumbing fixture to fix a 115-year-old antique, (“We found a witch! May we burn him!?“) I wrapped it in the same blue fabric I’d used for the base. I glued it all in place, trimmed off the excess, and then simply folded in the raw edges. To secure all this to the base, I dropped in one of the cardboard liner-discs from earlier (see step one, above), which I had also covered with the blue fabric.

Because the pipe was precisely the right diameter, the cardboard disc dropped in exactly as I wanted it to. I deliberately used the thickest, most structurally intact disc I could find. Then it was simply a matter of covering it all in glue, putting it together, positioning it very carefully over the center of the base, and sticking it all down!

Step FOUR: Replacing the Strap

The stand originally had a silk ribbon strap that ran from inside the back of the stand, and which attached to the back of the prop that holds the stand upright when it’s in use. You could still see the little slots and grooves where the ribbon used to fit in. Finding some thin, black ribbon to replace this was pretty easy. It was just a matter of measuring out the right length, and sticking it down.

Step FIVE: Tidying Up

The final step was gluing down all the loose bits and pieces, polishing the silver and the leather exterior, and then putting in the watch! The results speak for themselves:

Not a bad result for trying to fix something that’s over a hundred years old, and especially for being as fragile as it is!

I love antique whistles. They’re such fascinating little devices, and they’re proof that just because something is an antique, doesn’t mean that it has to cost a fortune.

I’ve been collecting antique whistles for years, and have a small collection of whistles at home, which range in age from anywhere from 70 or 80 years old, up to over 100 years old. I’ve never been an active collector, but if I see one lying around that I don’t have, and which is in good condition for a good price, I tend to add it to my collection if the opportunity presents itself.

The latest addition to this small area of my much larger, overall collection, is the subject of today’s posting.

Why Collect Whistles?

Antique whistles are infinitely fascinating. They’re symbols of how times have changed, how work has changed, how technology has changed and how manufacturing has changed, over the last few hundred years. They come in an almost endless variety of styles and finishes, and all these variations tell their own little stories – they are pocket-sized pieces of social history…that you can play around with…and unlike most antiques…are so robust that you almost never have to worry about breaking them!

Before the days of mobile phones, portable radios, walkie-talkies, megaphones and all the other handy dandy electronic communications devices that we take for granted nowadays – whistles were the only way that people had to communicate over long distances, or under adverse or busy conditions. This is why they were so incredibly common, and popular.

Whistles were common in a wide range of occupations and professions. Ship’s officers carried whistles to pass orders. Railroad workers carried whistles to signal to other staff and locomotives. Cyclists used to carry whistles on them to warn pedestrians when they were coming through. Policemen carried whistles to call for backup, postmen carried whistles to alert people when they had mail to collect, prison guards carried whistles to maintain order inside prisons, and orderlies in mental hospitals carried whistles to warn of patient riots. During World War Two, ARP wardens carried whistles during air-raids, and during both world wars, army officers carried whistles for issuing commands on the open fields of battle.

In many occupations, there were strict regulations regarding the use and care of whistles. For example in many police forces, whistles had to be clipped to the uniform by a chain so that it could be easily retrieved. In the postal services, whistles that were handed in when a postal-worker retired, had to be sterilised in boiling water before they could be re-issued to new staff. How whistles were used in these various professions were also regulated – how many whistle-blasts were used, what they signified, and under what circumstances they had to be used.

It’s all these varied uses that make whistles so collectible, and manufacturers produced whistles with all kinds of markings, stamps and labels on them as a result. That means that just one standard type of whistle might have dozens, or even hundreds of different markings, depending on which company or entity had ordered the whistle. It might be marked for police use. Or army use. Or postal use. Or use in a hospital, or prison. Or for any other myriad of purposes. Whistles with rare or unique stamps or marks on their barrels are more valuable, and they’re a useful way of trying to determine a whistle’s age.

How old is This Whistle?

This whistle dates to the turn of the last century, which makes it roughly 120 years old. It’s solid brass, and was once plated in nickel. It’s marked:

“THE CITY WHISTLE – PATENT”.

Underneath, is the additional marking:

“ARMY STORES – MELBOURNE”

And finally, it has the country-of-origin markings:

“MADE IN ENGLAND”

Antique whistles are usually extensively marked, and this is good, because it means that they’re very easy to research. Every major manufacturer had their own marks, stamps and trademarks, which were all used at various times throughout history. These variations – which can be something as simple as the formatting, the style of lettering, the size of lettering, or even the orientation of the lettering – can all be used to identify the whistle’s age and manufacturer.

In this case, “THE CITY WHISTLE” with the first two words curved, and ‘WHISTLE’ straight, with “PATENT” underneath – indicates that the whistle was made by the Birmingham firm of Alfred DeCourcy & Company, which was the main competitor for much of the 1800s and early 1900s, to the more famous Joseph Hudson & Co whistle manufactury…or it was, until Hudson & Co bought them out in the 1930s.

Changes in manufacturing processes and little style details also indicate the whistle’s age. Concave cap-loops, and variations in how the mouthpieces were formed, are further indications of the whistle’s age. This whistle was made between 1900 – 1910.

Is it a Rare Whistle?

Probably, yes! It was made by a lesser-known manufacturer, and for a small client, in a far-off country. On top of that, it’s over a hundred years old. All these factors would increase the whistle’s rarity, and presumably, it’s collectible desirability – it’s the rare whistles with uncommon markings that ardent whistle-collectors really want, due to the sheer uniqueness of them.

So…does it work?

Yes! Yes it does. Or it did, once I tweaked it a bit and got it working again.

Despite their apparently simple, tubular construction, these old whistles were very carefully manufactured. Inside the barrel is a flat diaphragm which splits the barrel lengthwise into two chambers. At the mouthpiece-end of the diaphragm is a circular endpiece that stops just below the bottom of the two sound-slots at the bottom of the barrel. There are two tiny semicircular gaps between the edges of the round endpiece inside the barrel, and the interior of the barrel and sound-slots.

It’s through these two gaps that the air passes when you blow on the whistle. Air passes through the mouthpiece and through these two gaps. It’s the passage of air which creates the trill, rippling, warbling, two-toned sound of the whistle.

…which won’t be produced if these two gaps are clogged or sealed up in some way! To fix it was a simple case of clearing out the gunk inside the mouthpiece and around the vent-holes using a pin, and levering out any dents around the slots using a flathead screwdriver and gentle pressure. Once the sound-slots near the holes had been opened and cleared sufficiently, the air could flow smoothly through the whistle, which meant that it could sound exactly like how it should!

As a serious antiques collector since my school days, taking care of one’s collection, keeping tabs on it, remembering what’s in your collection, what you’ve bought, sold, traded or given away, and how to protect, store and display one’s collection is something that is always on your mind.

In this posting, I’m going to be talking about display-cabinets and cases, and what sorts of choices and options there are out there for you to consider, and what issues you yourself need to consider when you select a case or cabinet, dependent on the types of antiques you collect.

Cabinets and Cases – What Are They?

Before we get swept away with the fascination about our intriguing subject-matter, let’s first understand one thing:

Cabinets are not cases, and cases are not cabinets. They are two different things, and each is used for different items. Alright?

Alright.

Display Cabinets

A display CABINET is a freestanding unit or piece of furniture, designed to exhibit the items stored within it. They can be tall and thin, low and rectangular, square, modular and angular. They usually have glass sides and doors and multiple shelves. They may or may not be lockable.

Benefits of display-cabinets is that they’re larger and can keep a larger amount of (or larger-sized) items safe and clean. For a relatively small footprint, they can store and display multiple shelves or layers of collectives and therefore take up a small amount of floor-space for the amount of items that they can store. The disadvantages are their weight and lack of portability.

Display Cases

By comparison, a display CASE is a shallow, flat, box-like container, usually with a glass-topped lid. They’re usually small enough to be somewhat portable and are typically used for displaying small items such as pens, coins, stamps, etc. Basically, anything small that wouldn’t really suit a larger display cabinet, because they would get lost among all the bigger items. They may or may not be lockable, just like their larger counterparts, and may or may not include lighting features.

The benefits of display cases is that they’re smaller and more portable. This makes them great for things like displaying your collections or items for sale, at antiques fairs, collectors’ fairs and conventions, or for displaying your collections in a wider selection of areas (in your study, on the coffee table in your living room, etc).

The disadvantages of display cases is that they take up a LOT of space. Since you can’t stack them when they’re in use, they can take up a lot of space, compared with the relatively small footprint vs. large storage space, of a display cabinet.

Cabinets or Cases? What’s Best for You?

Cabinets are better if what you’re displaying is large, bulky or heavy. Silverware, brassware, antique optical equipment, books, porcelain, etc. Things that you don’t have to strain your eyes to notice through the glass.

Cases are better for displaying smaller things with low profiles, such as coins, stamps, pens, collections of snuffboxes, pocketknives, lighters, and so on.

When deciding to buy a display-unit for your collections, you need to figure out what’s going to go into it, how heavy your collection is, and where the case or cabinet is going to go. Will the shelves support the weight of that beautiful French porcelain censer? Will the lid close on top of your favourite guilloche enamel table-lighter? Will you be able to arrange things the way you want them to look?

These are all things that you need to consider. If you buy a set of display cabinets – do you have the wall-space for them? Where will you hang your pictures, photographs and clocks? Will it take up space that you need for other things? So much to think about.

Display & Lighting

Once you’ve decided on which option works best for you – cabinets or cases, then the next thing to consider is how to display your collection and whether or not you wish to include any form of illumination.

With a flat case, how you arrange your collection is up to you, but with display cabinets, there are certain limitations that you need to consider.

First – how stable are your cabinets? To provide ballast, heavier, bulkier items should go at the bottom and lighter and smaller things further up. Larger items should be placed at the back of shelves, and smaller items closer to the front, so that all pieces may be seen, with minimal obstruction between one piece and another.

As much as possible, take full advantage of all the space available to you. Small pieces may be displayed by hanging them from hooks, which you can stick to the sides or backs of your shelves. Narrow-depth, smaller-sized display-boxes with transparent windows, may be used to display smaller items, within the main cabinets, in order to maximise the vertical space between your shelves. This can make it easier to see particularly small items and if these display-boxes can be stacked or otherwise arranged, then it frees up even more space for larger items.

Along with how to display your items comes the issue (or non-issue, as the case may be) of illuminating your display.

Naturally, display cases are generally easier to illuminate. A lamp or two, strategically placed, is usually sufficient to light up your prized collection, but when it comes to larger receptacles, such as cabinets, some form of integrated lighting is either included, or at least, recommended.

Whether it’s battery-powered or comes with a plug and lead, lights should be unobtrusive and shouldn’t get in the way of whatever it is that you’re trying to illuminate. It’s best to stick them in corners or edges, or on the undersides of your shelves, so that they’re out of the way, but still give plenty of illumination.

What Lights Are Best?

It really depends on what your budget and personal situation is. These days, there are a wide range of options. Ideally, you want lights that are small, unobtrusive, and bright. In this arena, we have bar lights, strip lights, and puck lights, all utilising extremely powerful LEDs to produce the necessary illumination. Each of them has their benefits and drawbacks.

Bar lights are comparatively bulky and take up the most space overall. They work off of batteries and/or cables, and this can mess up your delicately placed displays. If you have a particularly LARGE display cabinet, however, and can spare the space, and require the light, then bar lights might be the way to go!

LED strip lights are much smaller in profile, while still being extremely bright. These can vary from very, very, VERY long strips which are typically powered by plug-leads and switches, and comparatively small strips, which are battery-powered. These are often great for small or medium-sized cabinets or smaller display-cases since they don’t take up much room. You just need to think about where you’re going to hide the extra leads, plugs, switches, and battery-boxes.

The last option is using puck lights. Puck lights get their name because they’re flat, round and chunky – like hockey pucks. Puck lights are cheap – A pack of four or six cost comparatively little, they take ordinary AA-size batteries, and require no leads or switches. They can be mounted almost anywhere, and are very bright. Also, you can get them with remote controllers. That way, you can switch on loads of pucks at once, and then them off at once, requiring just a couple of clicks of a button. Useful, if you have twelve lights to turn on and off.

The only potential downside to puck-lights is that they are VERY expensive in BATTERIES. The average puck-light takes three batteries to operate. This may not sound like much (my flashlight only takes TWO batteries!), but when you’re trying to light up a LOT of pucks, the number of batteries required can easily run into the dozens! That said, they do last a long time.

Shelving Types

When it comes to shelves in your display cabinets, you generally have two options: Conventional wooden shelves, and glass shelves.

Wooden shelves are more sturdy and can take more weight. On the flipside, they’re bulky, weigh a lot, and impede the passage of light.

The alternative is having shelves made of glass. Glass has numerous advantages. It’s light, it means you need fewer lights to illuminate your cabinet, and they take up much less space. The only problems with glass are that glass shelves can be scratched, broken and cannot take excessively heavy loads – so like, I wouldn’t suggest putting your Victorian-era editions of the Encyclopedia Britannica on glass shelves, for example. Glass shelves also show off dust far more than wooden ones.

Doors and Windows

Whether or not your display cabinets or cases have doors or windows is up to you. But there are certain advantages and disadvantages.

The main disadvantage is weight. Such additions as doors, glass, and handles, hinges etc, do add considerably to the weight of your cabinet or case. It’s more things to break, more things to go wrong. If you do transport your cabinets or cases and they have glass doors and windows, make sure you pad and restrain them securely during transit, to prevent cracks and breakage.

However, glass doors and windows do have advantages. They let in more light, while at the same time, keeping out dust, prying fingers, and other grime. With the right accessories, doors can also be locked, for added security. An alternative for doors when it comes to display cases, is to have a lockable drawer setup, where the entire case can be slid out from under the glass for arranging and displaying items, before the entire thing is slid back in and locked for security.

Concluding Remarks

For the serious collector, having somewhere to store, and more importantly, display your collections is always important. It’s not something to be rushed into, however and as much time as necessary should be taken in deciding what you want and how you want it to look. Remember that your deciding factors should be things like: What are you displaying? What is your budget? How much space do you have, and how can you maximise it?

Do you need to worry about things like earthquakes? Storms? Do your cabinets or cases require anchoring to protect them from toppling or falling? What’s the largest or heaviest thing that you’ll be putting inside?

Think about all these factors and more, before making any serious moves.