An Uneasy Relationship
During my childhood we had no telephone. I was led to believe that like taxis and colour televisions, phones were for rich people - and we weren’t rich. If a telephone call was necessary a red kiosk was visited, coins were inserted, a trunk call was requested, a short conversation was followed by the pips, and if no more loose change was forthcoming - that was that. I can remember feeling ever so grown up when I did this.
When I was sixteen, not long after my father died, a lightweight, cream plastic telephone was installed to help my mother stay in touch with far flung family, and to make her feel safer. It made me wonder about the real reason we’d had no phone. Dad had been all at once a headteacher, a class teacher, a Sunday school teacher, church organist and he ran pottery classes - the thing would never have stopped ringing. Perhaps that’s why.
At first, using it while toying with the curly flex, was a novelty. When it rang, it was considered bad form to simply lift the receiver and say ‘hello’. One was expected to name the exchange and number, so it would be ‘Hello, Pwllheli 3385.’ Mum would fluster at the sound of it - before answering she would rummage for pen, paper and a handful of tissues, and make sure that she was 'comfy', because some of her chats lasted a loooong time.
Although she always denied it, she employed a posh telephone voice which she never used in any other circumstance. She claimed that she was ‘enunciating clearly’ to be understood in case it was a bad line. If it was Auntie Eva calling to confer about the Sunday crossword, she’d drop the posh voice immediately.
Once the novelty wore off, I found that I wasn’t a lover of phone-calls. When I came to work in offices I grew to actively dislike them, because a phone call often meant bother, or at least an interruption. I may cherish the past, but the emergence of e-mail and texting came as a blessing to someone who prefers the well-considered written word to the immediacy of having to talk and listen. How strange then that I actually love old telephones - the look of them, the feel of them, the sound, and even the smell of them.
Classic Instruments
Telephones were standardised when they were the responsibility of the General Post Office (GPO). There were three basic designs between 1912 and the 1950s and they are considered classic. They were given series numbers, 100, 200 and 300, but nicknames based on their appearance, ‘candlestick’ ‘pyramid’ and ‘cheese grater’ probably mean more.
The first standardised ‘candlestick’ telephones were introduced in 1912. Usually you would need both hands to use them unless you were either very short, or a contortionist - one to lift the stick closer to the mouth, the other to hold the earpiece .
The ‘pyramid’ style was introduced in 1929 and like the ‘candlestick’ phones they required a separate bell box to ring. However, because of the introduction of a handset to accommodate both microphone and earpiece, at least you only needed one hand to use the telephone. The ‘pyramid’ offered a choice of three colours besides the basic black - ivory (white), jade (green) and Chinese vermilion (red). With a moulded bell box attached it became the ‘King pyramid’, but that detracted somewhat from the elegance of the design and meant that they had to dispense with the 'cheese drawer'. The drawer usually contained the local dialling codes insert, or a mirror for ties, hair or makeup to be checked.
In 1936 the ‘cheese grater’ was introduced. It offered the same choice of four colours as its predecessor but the bell was integral to it, so no extra box was required for it to ring.
The phones were made from one of the first plastics, polyoxybenzylmethyleneglycolanhydride, which was understandably rechristened Bakelite. It was very durable, which is why so many examples have survived. The three classic designs co-existed for years and many phones installed during the 1950’s were GPO refurbished ‘pyramid’ and ‘cheese grater’ models from the 1930’s and 1940’s. They dominated office desks and private homes alike until the plastic 700 series was introduced in 1959. It was one of these we had installed in 1974.
The Drama of the Telephone
I have a collection of around twenty old phones because I choose to be surrounded by items from the past. Like the cars and clothes of the time they do much to conjure up the period - and when I write, the conjuring is an important part of what I’m trying to do. Telephones, cars and cinema all developed rapidly alongside each other and and they are woven into the fabric of so many films, television shows and even wireless programmes.
An anonymous call threatening blackmail or as a prelude to murder; a distress call terminated prematurely by a person unknown, leaving a blood-spattered receiver dangling; the chilling voice of someone you believe to be dead - the telephone has a suspense to it that has not been lost on the entertainment industry.
Any number of films noir have used telephones to crank up the tension. Let's face it, you can be locked up in your house, perfectly alone and seemingly safe, but a ringing telephone can bring psychological menace even there. Director Alfred Hitchcock, a master of suspense, recognised it in Dial M For Murder; Scotland Yard’s iconic number introduced in 1932, gave its name to books and a wireless series - Whitehall 1212; the emergency number introduced in 1937 inspired a TV series starring Robert Beatty - Dial 999.
'To the Wine Phone Robin!'
Nowadays my landline seldom rings and when it does, it is so loud that it frightens the living daylights out of me. Even cold callers have given up using it. In fact, just as the Caped Crusader knows that when the Bat-phone rings it can only be Commissioner Gordon, when my phone rings I know it can only be my wine merchant.
Many of my antique phones are in working order, but in January 2027, analogue landlines will be shut down and the classic telephones will ring no more. A wine hotline is not a bad way to see out a piece of telephone history.
For further information on British telephone history, you will find pretty much everything here.
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