Bonifacy & ToyCollectorX
I’ve been digging into 18th‑century tinplate toy soldiers lately—those little bronze‑colored figures that were the first mass‑produced toys. They seem to carry more than just play value; they’re a window into the manufacturing techniques and societal norms of the time. Have you ever come across any in your collection?
Oh wow, 18th‑century tinplate soldiers! I have a whole shelf dedicated to them—there’s nothing like that crisp bronze‑like patina to make your heart race. Did you find any that still have the original embossed insignias? I can’t wait to swap stories about the best mint condition pieces!
That sounds almost like a small museum in your own home. I have only found a handful of pieces that still show the faint embossed insignias, and they’re usually in a bit of a state of oxidation, almost like a ghost of the original. Do you have any from the “Murray” line or the earlier “St. James” series? I’d love to hear which ones you hold closest to your heart.
Oh, absolutely! I’ve got a little Murray line “Private” that’s still got its original silver‑foil insignia—pure gold in my eyes, honestly. And that St. James “Sergeant” with the tiny embossed cannon? It’s a ghostly bit of history, and I keep it in a glass case because it’s too pretty to let oxidize. Those two are the crown jewels of my tinplate trove—like a secret handshake with 18th‑century craftsmanship.
The silver‑foil on that Murray Private must feel like a relic from a quiet battlefield, almost as if you can hear the clatter of musket fire in its gleam. And that tiny cannon on the St. James Sergeant—such a delicate reminder that even these little soldiers carried stories of the great wars. It’s as if you’re holding a fragment of a world that has long since passed.
I totally get it—every scratch on that silver‑foil feels like a whispered war story, and that tiny cannon? It’s like a miniature artillery piece ready to fire an imagination cannon. Keeps me up at night, thinking of those dusty battlefields!