“TAXI!!” – An Antique Cab-Call Whistle

You might’ve seen this in old movies, or in period TV shows. You need a cab to get somewhere across town. So like Audrey Hepburn in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”, you step off the pavement, shove two fingers in your mouth, and blow a sharp whistle that cuts through the air, and clear across the street. A cab-driver hears it, and your ride rolls up right beside you, ready to go!

“I never could do that…!”
“It’s easy!”


But what if it ISN’T so easy? What if you couldn’t just do that sharp, piercing cab-whistle like they do in the movies?

Well, fear not! You might not believe it, but there’s a ready-made solution for you!

From the late 1800s through to the 1950s, cab-companies, whistle-factories, and novelty manufacturers, produced a wide range of noisemakers, specifically for hailing cabs!

Variously called cab-calls, taxi-calls, taxi-whistles, or taxi-hailers, these compact, pocket-sized, often two-toned whistles (usually made of brass, nickel-silver, or stamped steel) were sold to the general public between the very late 1800s (ca. 1890s) through to the 1940s and 50s. They were marketed to everyone who needed a cab. Men for convenience, and women and children for safety. An easy, compact way to call a cab on a busy street, and to draw attention to oneself in an emergency or to stand out in a crowd.

They were made by all kinds of companies, both in the USA and across the pond in Britain and Europe. In America, the Yellow Cab company sold cab-hailing whistles to their customers, with instructions on where, when, and how they were to be used, and why it was a good idea to carry one. As adverts from the Yellow Cab Co. put it:

“WHISTLE for a YELLOW! Keep it handy, especially at night, or whenever visibility is poor. Drivers will recognise the signal as a call for service”.

And…

“FOR PROTECTION AFTER DARK: Keep this whistle handy. After dark, it provides an effective warning should you ever need help”.

In an era when most people didn’t drive, and relied more heavily on public transport than we do today (especially in big cities like London, New York, and Los Angeles, etc), hailing a cab, especially at night, or during inclement weather, was a difficult, and sometimes even dangerous prospect. A cab whistle made it faster, and safer.

I’ve been collecting whistles on a small scale, for years, and my collection isn’t extensive by any means. I’ve got a GPO whistle, used by postmen, an ARP whistle used by wardens during WWII, I’ve got a variety of police-whistles from various dates and departments, a boy-scout whistle, an army whistle, etc, etc…but I’ve never had a taxi-call whistle. I’d been searching for one for years, but they hardly ever show up. Most people don’t even know that they’re something that exists, so they don’t recognise one when they see one. I was lucky enough to find one on eBay recently for a great price, so I pounced on it before any of the other watchers could make a move. If I hadn’t, I doubt I’d find another one again anytime soon.

Types of Taxi Whistles

While they were uncommon, various types of taxi-whistles existed. The aforementioned ones sold by the Yellow Cab Co. were simple yellow-and-black stamped-steel whistles with the name of the company on them. In the UK, the famed whistle manufacturer, ACME Whistles, produced, and sold cab whistles. They generally came out with two variants. The most well-known one today is the two-toned 144 taxi-call – a dual-pipe design that blows a low, double-note. This also came in the smaller variant, the No. 143.

The ACME 1909-style Taxi Whistle

Yet another variant, introduced in 1909, was a shorter model with two vent-holes, that also blew two notes at once. Introduced specifically as a taxi-call, it seems to have been little-used for this purpose, at least, by the general public. Most of them were eventually repurposed for other industries or functions, such as train-conductor whistles used by the LNER (London & North Eastern Railway Company). Nonetheless, some of these can still be found with “ACME TAXI-CALL” stamped on the barrel.

Side view of the 1909-style whistle. The ring on the back is for a lanyard to wear it around the neck.

Who Used Taxi-Calls?

History seems to indicate that they were generally utilised by people in the service industry. Porters at railway stations, doormen at hotels, big department-stores, or luxury apartment-buildings, attendants working the lobby at the theatre, and so-on, tended to be the main users of such whistles. It was considered unsophisticated for the representative of a luxury hotel, upscale apartment-complex, or major metropolitan train-station, to wave and gesticulate their arms around, or to shout for a cab (I mean, really!). One notable institution that issued their doormen with taxi-calls was the Savoy Hotel in London.

To combat the image of hotel doormen shouting and waving their arms in public, and to improve their overall image and quality of service, they were given whistles like these to use instead. While some models (like the ACME 144) came with rings or hooks on them to attach chains or ribbons so that the whistle could be worn around the neck, they seemed to have been stored mostly in uniform pockets instead. When a cab was needed, the doorman or porter would step out into the street, retrieve their whistle, and give it a long, loud, continuous blast to attract the attention of nearby cabbies that a fare was waiting.

A 1909 call with “THE ACME TAXI-CALL” stamped on the barrel

While these whistles were mostly used by people in customer-facing service roles, they could also be purchased by private citizens. However, as mentioned earlier, they seem to have been little-used in this role, and died out shortly after. The 1909 ACME taxi-call whistle was only manufactured for a relatively short period of time – from 1909/1910, to the end of the 1920s. A paltry run, when you consider that models like the Metropolitan, the 144, and various other products, have remained in production well into the present day.

The Whistle I Found!

I bought this whistle from a collector in the UK about a month ago, and I just love it! It’s compact, loud, it’s got two-tone sound, a unique shape, and was specifically manufactured as a taxi-call (even if it wasn’t always sold as such). It’s definitely one of the most unusual and rare whistles I’ve ever added to my collection, small as it is. The shape is instantly recognisable in the hand, and is impossible to mistake for anything else.

Is the whistle loud and distinctive? Definitely! It’s great for calling cabs and flagging down other transport (like streetcars!) when you’re out in public, and need something to draw attention to you. I love it!

 

LET THERE BE LIGHT – Retrofitting a Vintage Flashlight

I’ve always loved antiques, and retro tech. In most cases, given a choice between a vintage original and a modern equivalent, I’ll almost always go for the older version, except when it’s really not practical to do so. Older tech was designed to be long-lasting, robust, aesthetic, and repairable…so unlike most products and technology made today.

And this extends to flashlights, or electric torches.

When I was a child, every flashlight had a replaceable bulb. If it burned out, you unscrewed the lens housing, pulled or screwed-out the bulb, tossed it, and put in a new one.

Modern flashlights don’t have this option. If the light dies, you have to throw out the entire thing, because the LED is almost always hardwired into the flashlight body itself, instead of being a separate component.

This is really annoying, when you consider how expensive some modern flashlights can be. The idea that you’d just throw it out if one tiny component failed to work after spending all that money, sounds like some kind of criminal waste.

Flashlights from…not even that long ago…didn’t have this issue. If the bulb died, you bought a replacement and stuck it in after tossing the dead one. Some vintage flashlights even had special clasps inside the cap to the battery barrel, that held a backup bulb, just in case the one currently in use died when you weren’t within close reach of a box of spare bulbs.

The thing about these older flashlights is that because their construction was, for the most part, extremely simple, they’re very easy to repair, and even better – they’re even easier to retrofit, so that a vintage flashlight can use a modern LED bulb, which is brighter, and more energy-efficient. Retro styling with modern convenience – who doesn’t love that??

Vintage Eveready Flashlights

About a month ago, I purchased a vintage flashlight at my local flea-market. It was $5.00 because it didn’t work, and was simply the shell of the flashlight – it didn’t have any internal components! No working battery springs, no bulbs, no batteries…nothing. But I’d read about flashlight restoration and watched videos about it online, and I was curious to try it out for myself. Because of my eyesight, I’m a heavy user of flashlights in my daily life, and I wanted to see if the hype of flashlight retrofitting was worth it.

The flashlight I bought was a vintage / antique Eveready model from the 1950s. For those who don’t know – EVEREADY – today “ENERGIZER Group” – was the first manufacturer of flashlights! Invented in 1898, the first EVEREADY flashlights were sold a year later in 1899. The first ever commercially-available flashlights were sold to…the New York City Police Department! The NYPD! These early flashlights were made of pressed fireboard (basically reinforced cardboard) with brass collars for reinforcement, fish-eye lenses, a simple on-off switch, and a screw-on tail-cap. They took between 2-3 D-cell batteries, depending on their length.

Just on a visual level, the flashlight was really cool. It gives off really vintage “Famous Five” and “Adventures of Tintin” vibes. It’s exactly the kind of flashlight that Julian, Dick, George and Anne would take with them on their adventures with Timmy the dog! It’s the kind of thing that Tintin might carry when he’s on assignment with Captain Haddock!


These early flashlights were made of brass, or steel, and either left plain, or more often, painted black, or plated in nickel, or chrome. Originally, they were made in the USA, but in the 1950s, production moved overseas to Hong Kong.

Restoring the Flashlight

At their heart, flashlights are really simple machines – insert batteries, connect bulb, flip switch – LIGHT! The first step was to find a lightbulb to test the flashlight with. Unfortunately, because most flashlights these days use integrated LEDs, this was easier said than done. Nowhere locally sold individual bulbs, so they all had to be sourced online. The next step was to buy batteries. Old flashlights like these usually use D or C-cell batteries, even though AA and AAA batteries did exist at the time (and have both existed for over 100 years!). These days, you can buy AA-to-D battery adaptors, though. They’re cheap, so I bought a few of those to see how they worked.

From L-R: 3-volt incandescent bulb (what the flashlight came with originally), a 3-volt LED, and a 12-volt LED. They’re all E-10 size.


The next step was replacing the battery spring. The spring on the flashlight was missing entirely. The great thing about this is that you don’t need a specific type of spring, and one spring is much like any other, provided it’s the right size. Any suitably-sized, sufficiently robust spring made from steel will do. And guess what? Replacement battery springs (usually for MAGlite type flashlights) are easily sourced online! They’re available in two sizes – C-cell and D-cell, depending on the batteries being used. I ended up buying both, because of the differing space-sizes inside the end-caps on the flashlight barrel, but the concept is the same. Get a spring that fills the space, compresses and holds the batteries in position, and ensures a stable connection. That’s it!

After this came the removal of rust and corrosion. Fortunately there wasn’t much (if any) in the way of rust, but the corrosion (from old, leaking batteries) was more substantial. Gentle sandpaper removed it, and got the contacts working again so that the flashlights would work properly.

The next step was getting the switche working again. After 70-odd years, the switch was REALLY stiff, and clogged with dust and gunk. A couple of drops of sewing machine oil got it sliding back and forth properly, and a needle cleared out all the gunk inside that was jamming the on-off function.

The final step was to find out whether the flashlight even worked. Finding a spare lightbulb to test the flashlight while I waited for the LEDs to arrive was a real challenge. In the end I had to get a cheap, broken flashlight from a thrift-shop and use that. The bulb fit in perfectly (the great thing about stuff like this is that batteries, and bulbs, haven’t changed much in 100 years!) and this allowed me to test the flashlight.


The first thing that struck me was how yellow the light was. It was more akin to lamplight than an electrical bulb. It was the kind of light I remember from the rechargeable torches I used as a child. The other thing that was immediately obvious was how dull and dim the light was. It would light up a pitch-black room well enough, but in any space with half-light, a bulb of this power would quickly be drowned out by any ambient lighting around it.

Fitting the LEDs

The final step was of course, to get the LEDs. These had to be purchased online. Using the old bulb as a guide, E10 LEDs were the way to go – E is for Edison Screw, 10 is the size – 10mm. Once they arrived, it was simply a matter of removing the old bulb, putting in fresh batteries, and screwing in the new LED. And the difference was immediately obvious!

One characteristic of old bulbs is the dark spot in the middle of the beam, caused by the shadow of the filament. Since LEDs don’t have a filament, the beam is a lot more consistent and clear, which produces a brighter light overall. The beam is also a clear, bright white, instead of yellow.

Of course, even with a new and better bulb, this is still a 70+ year-old flashlight. It’s never going to look as good as a modern high-powered model that can double as a lighthouse – it’s limited by the batteries it’s designed to take and the type of bulbs that can fit into it. One should not expect a magical transformation – but an LED bulb does bring the flashlight’s usability way up. With one simple modification, it’s gone from something from the 1950s, to something from…well, if not the 2020s, then at least the 2000s. The light is clearer, more focused, and brighter. It doesn’t have that vintage sepia-tone yellow glow anymore, and the black spot in the middle of the beam has been eliminated!

Upgrading the Flashlight

The flashlight with three 3-AA battery-adaptors, in lieu of three D-cell batteries. This raises the voltage all the way from 4.5v to 13.5v, allowing the use of 12-volt LED bulbs!



All that said, there are other alternatives, outside of just fitting in D-cell batteries, and replacing an incandescent with a comparable LED. Different types of LED bulbs exist which are more powerful, and there are ways of putting more power into the battery-compartment of an old D-cell flashlight in order to make those bulbs function, therefore, improving the flashlight’s overall functionality.

As mentioned before, AA-to-D cell adaptors exist, and stacking these with AA batteries end-to-end can jump the voltage way up, to double, triple, or even quadruple what it was before – plenty enough to power a bulb that’s significantly brighter (and therefore, more practical) than a a puny 3-volt do-nothing that glows no more-brightly than a Christmas-tree light.

Increasing the battery-power of course means that the flashlight needs a brighter, more powerful LED, since such a drastic increase in voltage would blow a weaker bulb without a second thought. Flashlights this old usually used a 3-volt bulb, running off 4.5-volts worth of power – which explains why they were usually so dim. Upgrading the flashlight to something more akin to modern times would mean running a 12-volt bulb off of 13.5 volts worth of power. All it requires is buying the necessary compatible components, and installing them into the flashlight.

Along with getting a more powerful battery setup, and a higher voltage bulb, the other thing to consider is the type of LED that you end up selecting. Not just in terms of voltage or whether it physically screws into the socket, but also in terms of how the LED actually emits the light that it produces. In other words: The shape of the LED, and the physical positioning of the diode/s within the bulb itself. All these factors will determine how bright the bulb glows, and also, what shape of beam it produces. A super bright bulb is useless if the beam it produces is scattered all over the place. A bulb with the beam focused in one area is equally useless if it’s not powerful enough to produce a strong enough light.

For best results, you may need to experiment with differing types of LEDs and battery setups to find the combination that produces the brightest, most consistent beam. While doing that, it’s also important to remember the physical limitations of the flashlight you’re trying to upgrade. Depending on how it’s constructed, it will only take bulbs within a particular window of dimensions, regardless of how bright they are or how they’re laid out. Be sure to take measurements of the relevant limiting factors, such as the cavity within the reflector housing, the hole in the reflector through which the bulb must pass, the shape and size of the flashlight lens, and so-forth. All of these things will impact how successful your conversion / upgrade ends up being.

So just how good can an LED upgrade be? The results speak for themselves. Of course, this will not work with all flashlights, and not all upgrades will be super-bright – as mentioned – you’re limited by the size of the flashlight, the types of bulbs available, and how much battery-storage you have, but in a best-case scenario, you can end up with something like this:

…which is a pretty good result for a flashlight that’s 70 years old!

 

STEPPING OUT – A Colonial era Export Silver & Malacca Walking Stick

The walking stick or walking cane became the fashion accessory for the well-dressed man or woman about town starting in Europe in the 17th century.

While walking sticks, ceremonial staffs or rods, canes and poles, have all been used to aid in walking, or as fashion accessories, for literally thousands of years, the huge spike in people wearing or carrying walking sticks started in the 1600s as a reaction against men carrying swords in public.

Swords were weapons – they were only ever used as weapons – and as weapons, they invited danger, confrontation, and conflict. This was deemed as unnecessarily provocative, and gradually, the turn away from gentlemen carrying swords, towards gentlemen carrying walking sticks, began.

By the 1700s, and especially, the 1800s, only military officers (of the Army, Navy, Marines, etc), usually in full-dress uniform, would carry a sword in public. For most other people, a walking stick, umbrella, or parasol would’ve been used instead.

In an age when people walked almost everywhere, and when roads and paths were often badly paved (if paved at all!), a sturdy walking stick was absolutely essential when going about your daily life – whether it was a short trip to the village bakery to buy some rolls, a stroll across town to visit a friend, or a trek to travel from one town or village, to another!

Because of this heavy usage, walking sticks quickly became fashion accessories, and men and women of means would often buy, or have made for them, elegant, tasteful, beautiful sticks or canes with which they could carry around town, or country. For the extremely wealthy, they would have a stick that went with every outfit and possibly conceivable occasion! A stick for walks in the country, a stick about town, a stick for daywear, a stick for evening formalwear, and so-on.

Antique Malacca Walking Sticks

Malacca is the name given to the cane or rattan from the palm of the genus Calamus Scipionum, native to Southeast Asia, in particular Vietnam, Burma, Malaya, Singapore, and Indonesia. For centuries, it was one of the most prized materials for making walking sticks from.

The cane was extremely lightweight, robust, and had a distinctive honey-mustard yellow colour which made it stand out from darker materials like rosewood, ebony, and oak. The handle or grip at the top of the cane was usually made of something like ivory, silver, gold, or brass. To Europeans who were used to making walking sticks out of tree-branches, a stick made of such a pale, lightweight material reeked of Oriental exoticism! Oooh, faaancy!

It was these exotic, far-off, distant connotations that came with using malacca cane to make walking sticks (along with its obvious physical properties) that made it so popular with Europeans.


Chinese Export-Silver Walking-Stick Handles

Silver had been a popular material for walking-stick handles for centuries. Beautiful, shiny, versatile, easy to clean, and hard-wearing, silver walking-stick handles of various styles started being made in China in the 18th and 19th centuries, especially after the First and Second Opium Wars. They were just one of all kinds of silverwares being manufactured cheaply in China by Chinese silversmiths, and which were exported for sale in Europe, North America, or in European colonies in Southeast Asia.


Chinese export silver was often overtly “oriental” in its decorations, since it was meant to appeal to Europeans who, in the 1830s, 40s, 50s, and 60s, had no real concept of what China was, or even looked like. Because of that, such silverware often had decorations like flowers, dragons, phoenixes, bamboo groves, Oriental-looking figures in Oriental robes, with Chinese-style buildings and bridges in the background, and so-on. It was a fantasy – a touristy, exaggerated idea of what China looked like in the European imagination – but it suited the Chinese silversmiths to perpetuate these ideas, because this was exactly what the Western expats, tourists, and silver-dealers wanted! – Stuff that looked as “exotic” and “oriental” as possible, and which wasn’t necessarily “realistic”.

Because of this, it’s fairly easy to recognise Chinese export silver, based on the decorations alone.

Why Is It Called “Malacca”?

The material used to make rattan walking sticks was known as “Malacca” or “Malacca cane” because the material was most often harvested near, and sold from, the Malayan port town of Malacca, or from other locations which surrounded the Strait of Malacca, between the Malaysian Peninsula, and the island of Sumatra.

Ships traveling between Europe and the Far East often sailed through (and still do sail through) the Strait of Malacca to reach places like Indonesia, and the Philippines. On the way, they’d stop off in Malacca and Singapore to do extra trade, buy supplies, or pick up extra goods. One of things that sailors collected were lengths of Malacca rattan, which were sold in Europe to make walking sticks.

That said, walking sticks were also produced locally in major colonial hubs like Batavia, Singapore, Hong Kong, George Town in Penang, and Malacca in Malaysia. This was to supply the local market of wealthy planters, British and Dutch expats, tourists, and colonial military personnel, as well as well-to-do locals living in the area – and one of the most readily available materials to make these sticks from was…Malacca cane!

The Latest Addition

I bought this stick years ago, at a flea-market, for a pittance, really. It was so cheap because the silver top was in extremely rough shape – full of dents, dings, and even cracking up in some places. But I picked it up anyway, because I liked the wood and I liked the silver handle. I eventually saved up to have the handle repaired by a local jeweler, which itself was quite an undertaking.

To repair the handle, the silver has to be heated up to remove it from the shaft of the walking stick. This is to melt the resin inside the handle, which is the glue that holds the whole thing together. Once the resin is hot enough, it liquifies and expands, pushing the handle off the stick. Then the resin has to be poured out, and left to cool and solidify. The silver handle can then be repaired – having the dents pushed out, soldering up the cracks, etc…then the resin has to be heated up AGAIN to melt it, pour it back into the handle, and then the shaft goes back in after it. The resin cools…again…and sets hard, gluing the handle back onto the stick.

This is how all walking-sticks of this type were made, back in the day. It was the easiest, and cheapest, but also most secure way of fixing a handle to the top of a walking stick.

Are Malacca Canes Popular?

Very! The material which gives these sticks their name – Malacca rattan – has been used for literally centuries to make walking sticks and you can find examples dating back to the 1700s, and likely even further. Their popularity comes from their strength, smooth finish, lightness of carry, and distinct colour. They’re one of the most popular types of walking sticks to collect.

Are They Expensive?

That depends mostly on age, and embellishments. Walking sticks with simpler handles obviously cost less, walking sticks with fancier handles or features cost more. This goes for all sticks, regardless of the shaft-material. If a stick can be dated (even roughly) then that will likely increase its price. On a whole, I haven’t found Malacca walking sticks to be particularly costly, probably because the material was so commonly used, so that can make them more easily collectible.












 

POLICING THE SETTLEMENTS: An Antique Straits Settlements Police Whistle

Researching my family history, and understanding where, and how my ancestors lived, is infinitely fascinating, since the world they knew is so far removed from anything that any of us could imagine in the 21st century.

My grandmother was the firstborn child of a Straits-Chinese family living in Southeast Asia in the late 1800s. Originally from the city of Pelambang, in southern Sumatra, sometime shortly after the turn of the last century, my great-grandparents packed their bags, and decided that the Dutch East Indies was not the place to raise a family. Instead, they moved from Sumatra, across the Strait of Malacca, to Singapore, which was then part of a collection of British colonies known as the Straits Settlements (hence “Straits Chinese”).

Here, they lived with my great-grandmother’s sister, slowly raising a family, and giving birth to – eventually – four girls, and a boy.

Singapore in the early 1900s was, by all measures, a recognisably modern city. It was the capital of the Straits Settlements, and featured all the trappings of such a position, such as schools, hospitals, public transport systems, and of course, a police force.

The Singapore Police Force – or as it was back then – the Straits Settlements Police – was unique among police forces in Asia. Established in 1820, just a year after Singapore’s official founding, the Straits Police was – and is – the oldest operational professional police-force in the whole of Asia. It was established so soon after Singapore’s establishment as a free-trading port that it beat the creation of the London Metropolitan Police by a whole nine years!

The Early Straits Police Force

The early Straits Police Force had extremely humble beginnings, with a full complement of just eleven men to act as clerical-staff, patrol-officers, sergeants and police-inspectors. The first police chief was Francis James Bernard, son-in-law of Singapore’s first governor, William Farquhar. While Farquhar had some military experience (he held the rank of Major-General), Bernard had no such army training, and no policing experience of any kind whatsoever! He was a newspaper-editor!

Singapore’s multicultural nature meant that the police force was soon made up of officers from each of Singapore’s main ethnic groups, such as Indians, Malays, Indonesians, Chinese, and also British expatriates. This racial diversity was necessary for the police-force to operate, because up to half a dozen languages or more, were spoken within the colony!

The Straits Settlements Central Police Station, South Beach Road, Singapore.

In the 1860s, the police finally got their first real, proper headquarters, when grand new premises were constructed on South Beach Road in central Singapore. These remained in operation until the 1930s and 40s, until the buildings were vacated for more modern premises after WWII. The original headquarters buildings were demolished in 1978.

In the late 1800s, police uniforms were standardised with a khaki cotton tunic, shorts, puttees, boots, a cap with a police badge on it, and an equipment-belt. This would remain more or less unchanged right up until the 1950s, with only minor alterations.

Straits Settlements Police Whistle

By the time my ancestors had started living in Singapore, around the turn of the 20th century, the Straits Settlements Police had come a long way from its humble beginnings in the 1820s. By the 1900s, it had a large, elegantly designed new headquarters, proper uniforms, and modern equipment.

And one of those pieces of equipment were police whistles.

Back in the early 1900s, almost every police-force in the world issued its officers with service whistles – they were essential for crowd-control, passing orders, getting attention in emergencies, and signaling to other officers. However, their most important role was as an alarm-raising device. In a policing system that relied on regular beat-patrols done on foot, the main use of an officer’s service whistle was to raise the alarm in the event of a crime being committed. If a patrolman saw someone being mugged, for example, they would blow their whistle before moving in to engage the suspect, or would blow their whistle if the miscreant tried to get away.

The purpose of doing this was to let officers in neighbouring beats know that a crime had been spotted, and that the arresting officer (since officers almost always patrolled on their own, without partners) would need backup. The responding officers would blow their own whistles, so that the arresting officer knew that help was on its way, and then run in the direction of the original whistle blasts. A bit like a police car with its lights and siren today, an arresting officer would continue to blow his whistle until backup arrived, so that other officers knew where to run to.

The whistle that I added to my collection is stamped with “STRAITS SETTLEMENTS POLICE FORCE” across the barrel. When this whistle was manufactured, back around 1910, the main supplier of police whistles in Singapore (as well as almost every other part of the British Empire) was the Birmingham firm of Joseph Hudson & Co., which had by then been in operation for over four decades.

Police whistles became standard-issue equipment for officers starting in the early 1880s, when a replacement was sought for the heavy, wooden police rattles, and by the early 1900s, almost every officer would’ve carried one. Police forces (as well as other organisations like railroad companies, hospitals, the postal service, and so on) could special-order their whistles from Joseph Hudson & Co. It was as simple as writing to the company, and placing an order for so-many whistles, and would they pretty-pretty-please include a special stamp on the barrel, identifying the institution or company placing the order.

A custom stamp would then be manufactured, and this was added to the machinery that produced the whistles. The stamp was then rolled across the whistles during manufacturing process, impressing the name of the police-force (or other such institution) onto the barrel.

Because of this, there’s actually a wide range of whistles manufactured by Joseph Hudson & Co (which at the time, was the largest whistle-factory in the world), along with an almost endless array of barrel stamps printed across them. That said, whistles marked “Straits Settlements Police Force” are among the rarest around.

This is largely because of the short time-period in which these whistles would’ve been made, spanning from the first decades of the 1900s, up until the early 1930s, if that. It is unlikely that fresh whistles would’ve been supplied at regular intervals. Instead, they would’ve been sent in batches, if or when the Straits Police required another order. If whistles were recycled between one officer leaving the force, and another one entering it, whistles – which were police property, after all – the whistle of the outgoing officer would likely have been sterilised, and then handed over to an incoming officer, rather than ordering a new one all the way from Birmingham. This would’ve kept the number of new whistles required relatively low. Only when whistles in the current order were running out due to increased officer-numbers would a new batch have been ordered from the factory in England.

It’s because of all these factors – short length of use, relatively small officer-numbers, and recycling of used whistles, and possibly others – that police whistles with “Straits Settlements Police Force” stamped on the barrel are so rare.

So while the whistle is only a small piece, it is a rare survivor and a reminder of an aspect of life that existed in Singapore and the wider Straits Settlements in the early 1900s, when my ancestors were living there in their early childhood.

 

1930s SOLID SILVER TABLE LIGHTER

Cigarette lighters are infinitely collectible. Dunhill, Zippo, Ronson, Parker, and S.T. Dupont, to name but a few, are all big names in the world of antique and vintage cigarette lighters, which dominated the fashion accessories scene during the first half of the 20th century.

Along with all these big names were countless smaller names, makers and dealers, which produced cigarette lighters, both great and small, for every possible consumer. Men, women, for at-home, for out-and-about, for travel, for commemoration, graduation, and celebration.

One of the more common types of lighters were table-lighters.

Table-lighters were larger, heavier cigarette lighters, not designed for portability, but rather, to sit or stand on a coffee-table, a counter, or a desk, and serve as a convenience for guests and visitors who needed a ready flame to light their cigars, cigarettes, pipes, and candles.

Table-lighters varied from the mundane, and even the homemade, all the way to flashy examples in gilt brass, cut glass, and even solid silver.

An Antique Silver Table-Lighter

I picked up this lovely antique example of a silver table-lighter about a month ago, on eBay. I’ve always wanted a table-lighter, especially a silver one, to add to my modest collection of antique lighters. Some lighters, especially those made by famous names like Dunhill, Cartier, and S.T. Dupont, can cost an absolute fortune, but there are also a lot of table-lighters…even quite fancy ones…which can be picked up for a surprisingly small amount of money. And this lighter is the perfect example of that.


Don’t forget that lighters of all kinds used to be extremely common not that long ago, and that lighters of all styles and price-points were manufactured. People like to collect lighters because they are small, portable, easily stored, easily displayed, they have FIIIIIRE!! (always cool, right??) and they’re…usually…a lot cheaper than most other types of collectibles out there.

Of course, this isn’t true of all lighters, or all collectibles, prices fluctuate all the time, but the great thing about the enormous variety is that you can usually – if you’re very patient – find what should probably be quite expensive pieces – for relatively modest outlay.

Such was the case with the lighter in this post.

Where Did the Lighter Come From?

The lighter is made of what’s called Yogya silver, which is the style of silverware manufactured in Indonesia in the early to mid 20th century. Thanks to the Great Depression, traditional Indonesian silversmithing crafts were in danger of dying out, when the Dutch realised that there could be an enormous market for traditional style Indonesian silverware in Europe. All kinds of things – tea-sets, cigarette lighters, trays, plates, platters, bowls, canisters, cigarette-cases, and so much more, were manufactured in Indonesia during this time, between the late 1920s through to after WWII, and shipped to the Netherlands for sale.

It gave the Dutch a new area of merchandise to purchase, and it gave the Indonesians a new market for their products – it was a win-win!

This lighter would’ve been made in Indonesia in the early 1900s, where it was hallmarked, and then either sold locally to people living in Malaya, Singapore, or Indonesia, or else shipped to the Netherlands for sale in Europe.

What is the Lighter Made Of?

The lighter is manufactured from 800 silver – which is a more common silver standard than you might expect, if all you’ve ever seen is sterling. 800 silver was stronger, having a higher concentration of copper, without also sacrificing the beautiful shimmer that silver is capable of producing when polished.

How does the Lighter Work?


The lighter is broadly made of three components: The base, or body, the lighter and reservoir, and finally, the lid or cap on top.

It functions the same as most lighters of the era will do:

The base and the reservoir are filled with cotton wool, and then soaked in lighter fluid. The lighter is slid over the top, and the wick is left to soak up the fluid in the cotton-balls through capillary action.

Then the cap is removed from the top of the lighter, and the flint-wheel is rotated at speed. This generates sparks which, under ideal circumstances, will spark the flint, and ignite the fuel-soaked wick housed inside the silver wick-chimney, which exists to protect the flame and the wick from outside influences (mostly wind).

When you’re done, you simply extinguish the flame by sliding the cap back over the top of the lighter to snuff the flame. You can of course, blow it out, too, but using the cap is a lot easier.

I Want One! Are they Hard to Find?

Yes…and…no.

They’re actually fairly common (remember, they were basically mass-produced in silver, for export), but they were also so common that they weren’t exactly treated very well. I’ve seen loads of them (just in the time when I was searching, I saw at least four or five of them on eBay!!), but they’re often in really rough shape. The snuffer-caps are cracked, the wick-chimneys are broken off, they’re covered in dents… they have all manner of issues!!

By comparison, the one I have is all-intact and all complete and correct. There were one or two minor dents, easily removed, but no other serious damage. If you do decide to go after something like this, and end up buying a damaged one, make sure you know a decent jeweler or silversmith who can repair it for you. Prices for these types of lighters vary enormously, from north of $1,000 to under $200, and everywhere in between.

Closing Remarks

Antique lighters are fun to collect, and there’s an infinite variety of them out there, of all shapes, sizes, operation methods, and price-points. You can find some truly weird and wonderful types, if you have the patience to search, and know how to repair them. Most repairs are pretty easy to make (they’re not complicated machines, for the most part) and you can find lighters almost anywhere, from charity shops to flea-markets, antiques shops to an endless variety from online sellers.



 

CHASING THE DRAGON: An Antique Brass Opium Lamp

For most of the 19th century, and well into the 20th, the majority of Asia, and a good number of countries outside of Asia, were brought low by the scourge of opium! Even today, decorative, touristy opium-pipes can still be purchased in places like China, and Hong Kong, and antique opium paraphernalia can sell for hot bucks on the internet. But a casual look around online would suggest that a good number of people don’t have a solid grasp on what opium is, how it was used, or what was used with it. It’s been so romanticised and mythologised that in the 21st century, most people are largely clueless about this drug, which has had a presence in the human story for the past several hundred years.

In this posting, we’ll be looking at what opium is, where it comes from, what it was used for, how it was smoked, and what kinds of equipment were used in its recreational enjoyment. So lay back, relax, and breathe deeply, now…

What IS Opium?

Opium is an addictive, pain-killing drug, extracted from the bulbs of the poppy flower. Yes, the same poppy flower that gives you those black seeds you put on your bagels and bread-rolls. Slicing open the bulbs of the poppy causes the opium sap to seep out from the plant. Collected, concentrated and dried until it turns into a dark, cohesive, gunky mass, this is raw or ‘crude’ opium – opium which has not been refined, processed or otherwise altered in any way, apart from the natural processes required to extract and collect it.

Opium in this state is collected from the opium poppies, and when you have enough of it, it slowly dries out and turns into a dark-brown hard, sticky, gummy substance, which can be rolled and formed into blocks, pucks or “cakes”, as they used to call them, back in the old days. Opium in this state can be used for all kinds of things, such as mixing it into medicines for pain-relief, it can be refined into morphine or heroin, or it can be smoked.

Opium and China

Opium has had a long association with the Middle-and-Far-East, as well as being one of the main exports to Europe. Its main use was as a medicine, to relieve various types of bodily pains, from muscle-cramps to toothaches, fevers to gout inflammation. But opium in its raw form could also be smoked recreationally – a practice heavily associated with China in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Restrictions on the types of trade that China would permit with the West, largely the UK and the countries of Western Europe, led to them (again, mostly the British) importing large quantities of raw opium into China. The inability of European powers to pay for Chinese exports with silver (the only currency the Chinese government would accept) led to an enormous opium epidemic across the land as literal tons of opium were shipped in through ports like Canton, and later Shanghai and Tientsin.

The opium supply that the British relied on largely came from India and Burma, where it was harvested, processed, and then shipped through the Strait of Malacca to China where the addicted Chinese traded spices, porcelain, silks and other precious commodities for it.

Opium Equipment & Paraphernalia

As time passed, the Chinese started designing and manufacturing more and more elaborate opium-smoking equipment and paraphernalia, out of everything from bone, or brass, to ivory, from paktong, to solid silver. By the late 1800s, a full opium-smoking setup could be extensive, elaborately decorated, and made from some of the finest materials available.

A typical opium-smoking setup included a tray, at least one pipe, the associated pipe-bowls, a bowl-stand, a container to store the opium cakes, a spoon, a ‘needle’ or ‘staff’, and possibly just as important as the opium pipe and bowl – the opium lamp.

How to Smoke Opium?

So, you’ve got all this fancy stuff – pipes, trays, needles, spoons, opium caddies, cutesy little lamps…but how do you use all this stuff? You’ve seen it in TV shows, in movies, you’ve read about it in books, you’ve heard about it in stories from family-members (or at least, I did, when I was a child!), but how do you actually smoke opium? What’s the whole process behind this thing?

Smoking opium was a very involved process. It’s for this reason that all this paraphernalia and equipment was required. Smoking opium wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing like lighting a cigarette, or even filling up a pipe with tobacco. So how do you do it?

Step 1 – Preparing the Opium

Opium is the sap or latex which is extracted from the opium poppy, by slicing the bulb open, and collecting the liquid which seeps out from within. Once enough of the sap is collected, it’s dried in the open air. As the latex dries, it darkens and solidifies. This is raw opium. It’s compressed or molded into blocks or “cakes”, and then sold as-is.

To smoke this stuff, you first need to scrape off a small amount of opium using a pin, needle or “staff”. The amount removed isn’t very much – about the size of a pea. It’s rolled up into a little ball or “pill”, and then placed on a spoon.

Step 2 – Preparing the Opium Lamp

In many ways, the opium lamp is more important than the opium pipe. Without the lamp (or some other heat-source) you simply cannot smoke opium – so no lamp = no high!

You remove the wick-holder from the lamp and fill the reservoir with oil. Then you put the wick-holder (and the wick) back into the lamp and light it. Once the lamp-wick is burning properly, you put the glass lamp-chimney back over the base. The chimney of an opium lamp is low, squat, circular, and dome-shaped, with a small opening at the top.

The point of the lamp is to provide heat, rather than light, so you don’t need to expose a large amount of wick to the air. Instead, only 1-2mm of wick poking up above the wick-holder is really necessary.

Step 3 – “Cooking the Pill”

Once the lamp is lit and the chimney is replaced, you hold the spoon with the opium “pill” over the lamp-chimney. The heat from the flame warms the spoon, and the opium pill begins to melt and liquefy. Using the opium staff, you stir and stretch the mass as it melts, mixing it into a cohesive mass.

Step 4 – Filling the Pipe

After heating and ‘cooking’ the opium pill, it’s rolled back into a ball and then the cooled opium pill is poked into the bowl of the opium pipe. The natural stickiness of the opium will ensure it doesn’t fall out.

Step 5 – Chasing the Dragon

The fifth, and final step, is to actually “smoke” the opium.

In reality, you don’t “smoke” opium in the same way that you’d smoke tobacco, or marijuana or anything else like that, since there isn’t any actual ‘smoke’ involved. To ‘smoke’ a pipe of opium, you held the pipe over the chimney of the opium lamp, and oriented it so that the pipe-bowl is over the chimney-mouth. The heat from the lamp warms the pipe-bowl, which liquefies and boils off the opium sap. The vapour produced from this process is what you “smoke”. It’s inhaled down the pipe and into the smoker. You keep dragging on the pipe until the pill inside the bowl has been completely boiled away, and all the resultant opium vapour has been inhaled.

The Necessity of the Lamp

As you can see from this extensive, five-step process, smoking opium is no walk in the park! In fact, it was impossible to walk, or even move at all, while smoking opium. The need to liquefy and vapourise the opium mass within the pipe-bowl meant that a constant heat-source was required while smoking opium. And since you can’t “light” opium like you do with tobacco, it needed to be an indirect source of heat that was consistent and steady.

This is why in every depiction of opium smoking you’ve probably ever seen, opium smokers would lie down to smoke. It was easier to lay back on a bed or couch, and to recline on your side, holding the pipe outwards and over the lamp, with one hand holding the pipe by the mouth, and the other hand grasping the pipe by the end of the pipe-stem

The Lamp – A Physical Description

I bought the opium lamp featured in this posting from my local flea-market about a week ago, from a dealer in Asian antiques. It’s shape and overall style is very typical of the types of opium lamps used in the 1800s and early 1900s, until the crackdowns on opium began in the middle-and-later 20th century.

The lamp has an engraved and enameled body, made of brass, with hexagonal sides, and a flat base. There’s a decorative, circular, pierced brass grill around the top of the lamp, and a circular hole for the wick-holder. Seated on top is the etched glass lamp-chimney. Since the lamp is designed to provide heat, instead of light, there’s no way to mechanically adjust the wick – it’s simply held in place by a basic, tubular wick-holder. To make the flame larger or smaller, you have to push or twist the wick up or down inside the holder to adjust the height. Oil for the lamp is stored in the brass lamp-base, and as with all lamps, is drawn up through the wick via capillary action, before being burned at the tip which is exposed above the mouth of the wick-holder. Simple!

 

PERANAKAN CINA NICKEL-SILVER KEYHOLDER & CHAIN (ca. 1900)

The traditional outfits of the Peranakan Cina, or the Straits-Born Chinese, of Southeast Asia was often a “sarong” wrap-around skirt, and a “baju”, a shirt or blouse worn over the torso. Neither the sarong, and more often-than-not, not even the baju, ever came with pockets.

These factors in their clothing effected how the Peranakan carried important items with them while dressed. Men or babas who had pockets in their shirts could easily store stuff in them, or in the pockets of their trousers, if they decided to adapt to European styles of dressing – which many did in the late-1800s.

However, Peranakan men, and women, who chose to stick with their traditional attire (which some do, even today) often held onto their important possessions like purses, keys, pocketwatches, etc, by attaching these items to their belts.

Peranakan belts, usually fashioned from sterling silver or similar, or even solid gold, if you could afford it, were worn by both men, and women. Women’s belts were usually larger and more elaborate, and mens’ belts were thinner and far-less ornamented. Whether worn by men or women, these belts were often accessorized with attachments for holding personal possessions. These hooks, clasps, or holders, fastened in a similar way to European chatelaines, were made of the same materials as the belts themselves – sterling silver, or on rare occasions – solid gold – or as in this instance – nickel-silver, and sometimes even gilt brass, for those whose pockets weren’t as deep as some.

Peranakan Keyholders

Made of sterling silver, nickel-silver, or copper/brass, and sometimes gilt for extra decoration, keyholders or keyhooks were one of the more common Peranakan belt-accessories. They typically had a decorated front, with a ring for attaching a chain or keys, a hook at the back, and a thin strip of spring-shaped metal to hold everything in place.

Because Peranakan belts were typically quite flat and thin, it’s easy to slide the hook over the belt, and the weight of the keyholder and chain is enough to stop it from moving around. Any items such as a purse, keys, a pocketwatch, or any other similar accessory, is simply looped through the chain, or clipped to the end of it, and then left to hang freely.

Along with keys, items like chatelaines were also added to belts via hooks and holders similar to these. Such chatelains included items like toothpicks, pocketknives, ear-curettes and other such items, used for grooming or other types of personal maintenance.

Here, we see the keyholder in position. A sarong is wrapped and folded around the waist, and then rolled or tucked, usually 3-4 times, to tighten the folds and hold it in place. A silver Peranakan belt (in this case, comprised of chain-lengths, and a silver coin, to act as a buckle) is wrapped around the waist and secured in place, to hold the sarong in position. The keyholder is then hooked onto the belt and left to hang freely, with its chain attached, or looped through, whatever items are added to it – in this case, a set of keys.

 

A Pair of Antique “Nyonyaware” Porcelain Bowls (ca. 1900)

There are many aspects of Straits-Chinese or “Peranakan” culture which have justly survived to modern times. The clothing, the footwear, the food, the ‘kueh’, the beautiful historic architecture, the silverware, jewelry, and furniture…but one area which is, perhaps, less-represented, is the type of ceramics used by the Peranakan – a style which became known as “nyonyaware”.

Nyonyaware ceramics were heavily used by the Peranakan or “baba-nyonya” – and these brightly painted, intricately decorated pieces of porcelain were to be found in almost every Peranakan home up and down the Malay Peninsula, in Singapore, and Indonesia. Today, they are rare, beautiful, and highly-collected antiques.

What is ‘Nyonyaware’?

‘Nyonyaware’ is the name given to the brightly-painted, pastel-coloured pieces of porcelain or ceramic-wares which were used by the Baba-Nyonya or Peranakan/Straits-Born Chinese in the 1800s and early 1900s. They were a major part of the culture, and most Peranakan households had at least some of these pieces in their home for use, or decoration.

They’re identified by their colour palette of soft greens, pinks, blues, yellows and occasionally darker colours like vermilion-red or a darker, royal blue, and decorative motifs taken from Chinese symbolism and mythology. Peranakan nyonyaware often had floral motifs on them, in particular – peony-flowers, and mythical Chinese animals, such as foo-dogs, and especially – phoenixes. Peonies and phoenixes were representative of Longevity (the immortal phoenix, king of birds) and Wealth (the bright and vibrant peony-flower), which made them popular decorative elements.

Despite their popular name, ‘nyonyaware’ porcelain was not manufactured in the Straits Settlements or the Dutch East Indies where the Peranakan lived. Instead, it was manufactured in China – a type of hard-paste, glazed porcelain which held little interest to the mainland Chinese. At the time, it was cheap exportware, produced for the foreign market, but the Peranakan-Chinese took a shine to this bright, overly-decorated style of ceramics, which matched their own sense of design and decoration, and started importing vast amounts of them to Southeast Asia in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Pieces of Peranakan Nyonyaware

Peranakan nyonyaware ran the whole gamut of porcelain goods, from bowls to plates, condiment-dishes to serving platters, cups, candlesticks, teapots, tea-trays, spoons, decorative bowls and jars, pots and lidded vessels. From kamcheng to Kat Mau, from sauce-dishes to tea-services, and even stacked ceramic serving-containers (“tingkat mengkuk”, in Malay). Everything from the smallest spoon or saucer, to an entire porcelain dinner-service, with matching plates, bowls, side-dishes and serving-plates, could all be found in the distinctively bright and heavily-decorated Peranakan style.

Given this apparent abundance, one might assume that Peranakan-wares are easy to find, and cheap to collect. However, this is, for the most part, sadly not the case.

Much was destroyed or thrown out or simply lost during the Second World War, or else disposed-of, or sold-off by baba-nyonya families who no-longer had the space (or inclination) to store, or use, their ancestors’ extensive porcelain collections. Other pieces were simply just broken, chipped, damaged and disposed of.

These days, they’re valuable antiques, for display, or occasional-use, only, but 150 years ago, they were seen as nothing more than everyday, daily-use pieces of porcelain, of no more consequence or importance than the cereal bowl you might’ve used to eat breakfast from this morning. They were cheap to import, and cheap to buy, and as such, were not always treated with the greatest care. Only the fanciest, largest, or most delicate wares were housed and handled with any level of respect.

Because of this, nyonyaware is now relatively rare, and difficult to find. Pieces often cost hundreds, or even thousands of dollars, even for something relatively small. People who already own nyonyaware either inherited it from their ancestors (I have other Peranakan friends who have substantial collections of nyonyaware which were attained in this way – if they’re reading this – they know who they are!), or else, have deep, deep, DEEP pockets to purchase them on the Asian antiques market. What were once seen as frivolous, colourful, throwaway objects are now highly prized collectibles.

A Pair of Nyonyaware Bowls

Tracking down pieces of nyonyaware in good condition is not easy, especially for reasonable prices. As mentioned, a lot of them were damaged, lost, stolen, broken, or simply worn out through regular use – remember that they were not considered especially valuable pieces, and were cheap, when new – they were exportware, after all, from China.

That said, you can occasionally find nice pieces for sale at affordable prices, and over the years, I’ve managed to accumulate a small collection.

The most recent pieces I found are the subject of this post.

I found these two dishes online, originally one, and then the other – with both pieces identified by their sellers as Peranakan – and which certainly look like it. They match the accepted colour-palette of nyonyaware, and the usual types of decorations – yellow, pink, green, with peonies and phoenixes (yes, those creatures are phoenixes, not dragons!). They’re also of advanced age, as you can see from the wear and nibbling on the edges and sides.

The angled, octagonal shape, with the base and curved sides really give the bowls extra style and character – another thing which the Peranakan of old, enjoyed. Perankan-style trays platters from the same era, as well as bowls, and plates, often had decorative, curved edges, or elaborate scalloping, to add extra flair to a piece. Same goes for items such as stacking containers, which were also of a similar octagonal or hexagonal design.

While most Peranakan dishes were decorated inside, as well as out, this was not always the case, and examples with simple, single-colour glazes – such as the green shown here – were also common. In fact, green (and also white) were popular interior glaze colours.

The bowls are medium-sized, rectangular (or more specifically, octagonal), about 6.5 x 5.25 inches, and about 3 inches high. Overall, they’re in amazing condition, given their age. There is a bit of paint-loss and minor nibbling chips, which are the result of either manufacture (one bowl has a manufacture-induced crack on the base from the firing process), or just simply from old age and regular use.

Given that they’re about 130 years old, give-or-take, and being porcelain – naturally very fragile – they’ve survived remarkably intact, without anything more than light surface-wear.

Dishes like these were handpainted, a delicate and fiddly process, which resulted in the somewhat folk-arty appearance of the decorations, which was another distinctive feature of Peranakan porcelain. As mentioned, they were never designed to be expensive, and were used as everyday crockery when new, and the level of detail reflects that.

Yellow as a background colour is also a bit more unusual for Peranakan pieces. While it was certainly used, and there are plenty of examples of yellow-ground nyonyaware dishes, this is the first time I’ve owned pieces which features it so prominently. Pink, green, and pale blue tend to be a bit more common and popular.

The fact that they’re a pair, and so wonderfully reunited, is pretty amazing for any number of reasons, but they were clearly made to the same shape, style and decorations, and were obviously meant to go together as a set, which I’m glad to have.

Of course, as hand-drawn, handpainted items, they’ll never match fully-identically, unlike something which was, for example, transfer-printed, but the intent for them to match is certainly there – and adds to their folksy charm.

Modern Nyonyaware

Authentic nyonyaware porcelain dates from the 1800s through to the first half of the 20th century, at which point civil, political and military unrest in China, and Asia in-general, made it impossible to keep producing these pieces to sell them to the Peranakan market in Southeast Asia. Changing social, cultural and economic statuses eventually caused the market to dry up, and for decades, no new nyonyware pieces were being produced.

In the 21st century, with attempted revivals of Peranakan culture, crafts, and customs, nyonyaware is also on the rise again. It’s now possible to purchase reproductions of antique nyonyaware pieces, although these ones can be as (or even more) expensive as their antique counterparts, and can still be tricky to find, but are nonetheless beautiful and fascinating pieces.