As a child in the early 1980s, Saturday morning television was a straight choice between two main contenders, each with its own dedicated and fiercely protective following. The first was ITV’s TISWAS, feared by parents across the land due to its anarchic and unpredictable format, and much throwing of custard pies and buckets of water. (For the record, this was my favourite!)
The BBC’s offering was Noel Edmonds’ Multi-Coloured Swapshop. Part of its appeal was the swap format. Children could call in to the show offering one or more of their own toys or possessions together with what they hoped to get in return. If they were lucky this might appear on screen or even be read out by Noel, and the swap might be arranged through the programme. The best swaps made during the show even made it on to a top-ten board. In addition to the call-in was the ‘Swaporama’ where an outside broadcast team visited a different town each week, and swaps could be made live and in person.
In many respects Swapshop looks like an early example of contemporary trends towards freecycling. Today there are many exchange websites offering the chance to offload unwanted items, upcycle, or declutter, without the involvement of money. In fact, though, it was part of a much longer history of exchange. Advertisements seeking trades for objects have been around for a very long time…and, despite what you might think, the Victorians in particular seem to have been vigorous swappers(!).
What was the process for initiating the swap? Advertisements placed in the advertising sections of newspapers were one option. Many newspapers, such as The London Journal, had specific ‘Our Exchange’ sections, ‘Intended for genuine exchanges only without charge’. Even a quick survey through the pages of these advertisements offers a fascinating insight into the concept of exchange, ideas about value, and the sorts of goods deemed worthy to swap.
In many cases, the choice of goods for exchange – and indeed the disparity in value – might not seem too enticing to modern eyes. A typical example from 1883 included an ad from Edwin Grist in which he offered ‘an old man’s bald wig and old woman’s brown wig, both as good as new’ in exchange for which he wanted ‘a good old violin and bow’. A ‘Mrs Nation’ offered a selection of ‘full grown buck and doe rabbits in exchange for any musical instrument’. Many of the requests for exchange were indeed for mundane items, of low value. Dr Farrow of Limerick hoped to exchange his ‘Acme’ opera glasses for some books; Miss Tucker of Winterbourne had her heart set on finding the sheet music for songs including ‘Her Bright Smile Haunts Me Still’ and ‘The Miller and the Maid’ for which she was prepared to offer three songs in return.
For ladies, The Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine, published by Samuel Beeton (husband of Isabella, the eponymous ‘Mrs Beeton’) included a column called the ‘Englishwoman’s Exchange’. Desirable items for women commonly included domestic equipment, clothing and books. In 1867, ‘Aggie’ wished for a ‘new Vowel A washing machine in exchange for a good sewing machine’. Others, like ‘Helen’ hoped for a ‘Grebe muff’ in exchange for a thick corded silk Zuave’, whilst ‘A’ in the the Women’s Penny Paper in 1889 sought a teapot in exchange for her ‘Gothic pattern cruet’. Talia Schaffer suggests that anonymous advertisements offered women the chance to alleviate the potential shame of selling off treasured items…or maybe unwanted presents.
It was children, however, and perhaps especially boys, who seem to have been the main source of advertisements for exchange, made easier by the growing numbers of magazines and journals for both boys and girls, which often included space for swap requests. Some, like the New Boy’s Paper included a regular ‘Our Boy’s Exchange and Mart’ section, allowing readers to offer their wares. There was a financial risk though. Advertisements here were charged at threepence per thirty words, with a penny for every five thereafter. If no swap was involved, and the advertisement was for a straight sale, the cost rose to threepence for only ten words.
There were often strict rules to be adhered to. Every Boy’s Magazine in 1869 included a list of regulations, including a limit of four lines, removal of names, and the strict instruction that the column was for exchanges only…”AND ON NO ACCOUNT FOR MONEY”
Requests ranged from the desirable to the downright dangerous. In 1870 Roy Gow asked for a highland kilt and sporran in exchange for a stamp collection. ‘W.W.’ of Paddington wanted to exchange his collection of second hand books…but not from just anybody, since ‘persons living in the country need not apply’. For postage stamps or money, however, Howard Whippell of Somerset would not only hand over his treasured copy of Last of the Mohicans but would even throw in his pistol! Guns and weapons were indeed a common theme. On one single page of the Young Englishmen’s Journal in 1864 were offers to exchange a ‘single barreled gun for a good concertina’, a ‘pair of dumb bells, nearly new, for a broadsword’(!), and eight shillings’ worth of books for boxing gloves.
So apparently popular were these types of advertisements that they were sometimes satirized. Comic publications such as Funny Folks sent up the phenomenon with their own parodies. In one ‘A gentleman going abroad’ would ‘sacrifice his 50-guinea pianoforte (overstrung and considerably trichord) for a ten pound note’. Interested parties were invited to apply to C. Sharp, Bogus Lodge, Hookit-by-the Sea!
Some of the swaps, though, were perhaps doomed by their own narrowness. In 1869, ‘M.R’s advertisement relied on finding someone who not only had a ‘birdcage capable of holding twenty canaries’ that they no longer needed, but also one whose heart’s desire was ‘a very handsome piece of double Berlin wool work’. How long did poor M.R. have to wait before her parlour rang with the sound of singing canaries?
Dr Alun Withey 
