The house I grew up in had slightly more modern light switches than these ones, but instead of dimmer switches (which seemed new and radical when they were introduced!) the main rooms had twin switches to control the main ceiling pendant light - one switch controlled one lightbulb and the other controlled two bulbs, so you could vary the lighting and have either one, two or three bulbs lit, depending on your preference. It’s possible, although unlikely, that the pair of switches in the link worked in the same way.
My grandmother’s house had the older style you’re talking about, and, indeed, an elderly friend of my father recently moved into a residential home and her completely unmodernised flat still had them fitted! I used to see them occasionally in old garages and sheds from time to time as well…
The apartment building in which I grew up had bells (all but one disconnected). Other ancient stuff, too. Our apartment had originally been the lower half of a duplex apartment, later broken up into two apartments. Part of the apartment had been servants’ quarters, which I guess would account for the bells.
There was a dumbwaiter, running to the basement of the building. I guess it was used for garbage disposal. My father, knowing that his kids would be fascinated by this secret means of egress from the apartment, nailed the door shut. Too bad.
We also had the most amazing shower in one of the bathrooms (there were three in the apartment). It was huge. All the fixtures were copper, and there were seven showerheads. One where you’d expect a showerhead to be (overhead), and three on each of two facing walls, shooting water out horizontally. It was like showering in a car wash.
That bathroom was attached to the master bedroom, which naturally was my parents’ bedroom. The children were pretty much restricted to the other two bathrooms, but once in a while we’d use the one belonging to my parents. We loved it. Not surprising – to a little kid, it was almost like going to a water park.
And we had the light switches under discussion all over the place. Along with a fireplace. To open the flue, you opened a little trapdoor in the floor near the fireplace and pulled a ring attached to a cable that operated the flue. Kept one’s hands clean, I guess.
The building also had an elevator with one of those old-fashioned pantograph gates that had to be opened and closed by hand, and the elevator was operated not by buttons, but by a control lever that was moved from “Stop” gradually all the way over to “fast”. You had to start out slow, then go faster, then slow down and then stop, trying to stop exactly at your floor. Of course, children weren’t allowed to operate the elevator, but it was pretty cool all the same.
The elevator was modernized at some point, but all the other ancient stuff remained as long as I lived there (until I finished college, I guess).
My house was only built in the 1960s (which would probably qualify it as a period property if it was in the USA!) and it has one of the Bakelite “nipple style” light switches in the garage, still functioning. I don’t know if they were all originally like that. It also has a marvellously Heath Robinson-style adapter that splits from the ceiling rose, with a cable running from that, across the ceiling and out through the wall to an outside porch light. It all still works, but probably violates all manner of electrical regulations.
Incidentally, at that time it wasn’t customary to earth the lighting circuit. Ours still isn’t earthed, which means we’re not supposed to install any metal light fittings.
The light switches were put outside the bathroom to help prevent you from getting electrocuted if you reached for the light switch with wet hands. My mother always warned us about this, and I always thought she was being overly cautious, until I read of a famous film director who died this way in Rome or somewhere.