Tin-plate toys stir memories
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
IN BBC 1’s Antique’s Roadshowprogramme recently, one of those covetable tin-plate Alfa Romeo racing cars turned up. Full marks for the presenter who described correctly that it was a P2, and pointed out the quick-release fillers, the (incorrect) outside handbrake, the wire wheels with what she didn’t quite describe as knock-off nuts, etc. I recall these 18in-long, 31b 6oz Alfas as costing 35/, (In deference to Bassett-Lowke, I won’t call them scale models.)
There were also smaller tin-plate replicas of 7.5 twoseater and 11.4 four-seater Citroens which the makers of the real cars sold for 10/6d and 15/- respectively, as a publicity move, from 1924. And very good they were. My pocket money never ran to a P2, but I went, aged 11, as soon as possible, with my mother to the Citroen showrooms in Devonshire House, Piccadilly. The immaculate salesman came forward, asking, “Which can I show you, Madam, a tourer or a saloon?” “My son wants a clockwork Citroen,” said my mother. The deflated salesperson got a ladder, climbed to a shelf full of cardboard boxes, and called down, “Does he want the two or four-seater?”
Consulted, I decided the former was the more attractive, so even that mite of his sales commission was depleted!
I also recall seeing in Wolseley’s London showrooms a fine model of a Wolseley 10. My mother, requested to buy it for me, was told, “Madam, that is a scale model; you could have two real 10s for what it cost us…” My Citroen, and a 14/40 Delage with battery searchlight, have long since gone, but I do have a larger 37.2 Hispano Suiza tourer.
The present Alfa’s owner had had his P2 for something like 70 years and had never known that there was a clockwork motor in its tail. As a child he’d propelled it by sitting on it and using his feet, which had slightly damaged it. Even so, it was estimated as being worth £1200-£1500.
They were sold by Hamleys and Gamages, etc, and made as an advertising move by Alfa Romeo, Michelin and the Excelsior Shock-absorber companies in concert.