Colonel Sir George Wade – The Jolly Potter himself
When Colonel Sir George Wade died in 1986, in the wake of the Westland Affair with its subsequent Conservative cabinet resignations (Brittan and Heseltine), and the Challenger Space Shuttle disaster, his Times obituary, delayed till after his funeral due to a printing strike, read as follows:
“Col Sir George Wade M.C. former Chairman of the Wade Pottery group died on January 27th aged 94. He served in the First World War with the Machine Gun Corps and was awarded the MC and Bar; he was chairman of their Old Comrades Association. He rejoined his old regiment, the South Staffs, on the outbreak of the 2nd World War, before becoming a staff officer and writing a training manual on minor tactics for the Home Guard.”
And that was it. Apart from announcing the following June that he left an estate valued at £1,230,732. Not much of an tribute for the man who made Wade Whimsies a household name. The man whose electrical and gas ceramics were in almost every home. The man who united the many Wade companies. And the man who gave Jessie Van Hallen her chance to model some of the finest figurines in the world.
More than any of the Wade family he was not just a shrewd businessman, he was also a real character. He was much admired and loved by family, colleagues, and army comrades alike, and his inspired genius in business won him respect far and wide. However, perhaps understandable with genius, he was also controversial, and some of his opinions, his politics and his eye for a pretty girl got under some people’s skin.
He was born plain George Albert Wade on July 19th 1891 in Burslem, the last of the male line on his side of the old Wade family. His parents, George Wade JP and his mother Maria lived at 4 Baddeley Street, Burslem.
When he was very young, his older sister Daisy Evelyn died in 1893 aged 3, leaving him to grow up an only child in a family of potters establishing their businesses in the thriving late Victorian era. The Wade family had by now safely pulled away from the hardship suffered by families in the boom-and-slump of supposed economic progress, and were beginning to enjoy the fruits of their success, prospering by providing for the new needs of a maturing society.
After his parents had moved up to The Mount, Porthill, George attended Newcastle-Under-Lyme High School. However, unlike his father, he terminated his education at 15 to join the family business in 1906. His father, who was heavily involved in business, politics (federation in particular, at that time) and as a local magistrate, needed all the help he could get. The firm, now simply calling itself George Wade, was in the middle of taking over Henry Hallen and moving into the new factory, The Manchester Pottery. Young George had to oversee the relocating of workers and equipment from the old Wade and Sons’ Hall Street site that was soon demolished and the Hallen Wellington Street works. During this time he had to honour new and regular contracts, including ones inherited from Henry Hallen; supplying electrical, gas, engineering and textile ceramics in expanding markets in the new and affluent Edwardian era. These were heady days for the firm, and George played his part in traversing the company through difficult waters to growth and success.
However, when the First World War began, like the true blue patriot that he was, he enlisted immediately; on the 5th August 1914, in fact, the day after Germany invaded Belgium and war declared. He joined the North Staffordshire Regiment for an initial period. Three months later he was commissioned in the South Staffordshire Regiment and trained in being an officer. A few months later, however, he was seconded to the Machine Gun Corp on its foundation, seeing active service in France and as far away as Egypt over the next three years, 1915-18. He was a member of the 137 Machine Gun Company in the 5th Battalion.
He later wrote of his experiences, that being a machine gunner meant always being at the centre of things. Wherever trouble most threatened, or an attack was planned, there the machine gunners had to be, right amongst it all.
“They had tremendous fire power, and the moment they started they were the targets of every enemy weapon within range. No wonder the Machine Gun Corps was nick-named the Suicide Club!
“As they were so mobile and so in demand they saw more of what was happening than any other Arm.
“Machine-gunners had to be highly skilled, not only mechanically but tactically, and their devastating fire power gave them a deep sense of responsibility which never left them to the bitter end.”
He remembered well the “comradeship such as could exist only between serving soldiers, and the bravery, the kindness, the sacrifice, the suffering and the agony.” He also remembered “the smell of cordite and blood…together with the stale atmosphere of charcoal and earth which pervaded every dug-out…the grim determination which actuated the men of the Machine Gun Corps through long years of bitter warfare in conditions of extreme hardship, ice cold or insufferable heat, against enemies of many nationalities.”
However, in concluding his wartime memories he wrote, “In those days every man was firmly convinced that we were fighting for Freedom, as indeed we were, but nowadays old soldiers wonder if those who enjoy freedom now appreciate what sacrifices were made to keep it, and what vigilance is still called for to preserve it.” Even in this, George as ever found it difficult to suppress his political opinions.
His war experiences had a marked effect on George. He saw plenty of action, and he rose steadily through the ranks. He became a Lieutenant in March 1916, a Captain in December 1916, and a Major in February 1918. He was also awarded the Military Cross twice (M.C. and Bar) for valour, in December 1917 and January 1919.
Major Wade was welcomed home as a hero. His father made him a partner in the firm, which became George Wade & Son Ltd. One of his first acts as a senior director was to set up a small business in 1922 in the south-eastern part of Burslem, by the name of The North Road Mill Company. (It will come as no surprise to learn that it was in fact in North Road). On these premises materials from all round the world could be processed ready for the pottery trade. This was a great advantage, as it ensured quality input to the pottery-making process by introducing safeguards at an early stage. Felspar (a crystalline mineral), flint, Cornish stone and other substances were thus able to be ground in George Wade’s own mill, where they were meticulously checked in a raw state before they even reached the Manchester Pottery. Soon the company was supplying other potteries, and in 1932 a further mill was opened round the corner in Adkins Street, Cobridge.
Major Wade had by now married the daughter of Samuel Johnson JP, another pottery manufacturer. Florrie was several years older than George, a small quiet lady who, surprisingly perhaps, had experienced life in the paint shop. They’d married in 1915, just before George left for the Western Front. After the war they put together their new home in secluded Sandy Lane, Newcastle-Under-Lyme. A large and beautiful house with splendid gardens, George christened it St Quentin after the town on the Somme in North France, which had suffered so badly during the war. It had the style and elegance one would expect from a 1920s building. [The building is now a retirement home. The impressive staircase was rescued by George from the decaying Dimsdale Hall near Wolstanton.]
They had three children Iris, George Anthony, and Cynthia. [They are known well by Wade collectors by their Van Hallen figurines depicted at Iris’s wedding; George Anthony’s figure was called Tony, as he himself was, and Iris was simply The Bride.]
After the war George spread his wings a bit wider. He was already a keen birdwatcher, and soon became a member of the British Ornithologists Union. He also became an active member of the Conservative Party in Newcastle-Under-Lyme, holding various positions, including President, in the local party organisation. He was then Chairman of the North Staffs Political Union. The 1920s was a transitional time in the country’s party politics, with the emergence of the Labour Party, the decline of his father’s beloved Liberal Party and the General Strike of 1926. After 20 years in the doldrums, the Conservatives had finally returned conclusively to power in 1924 under Stanley Baldwin, much to the delight of George Wade. He remained a staunch Conservative all his life, despite the sometimes ironic hardships the Conservatives often inflicted indirectly on Wades.
In business, however, his company lived very much in the shadow of the more prominent and prosperous Wade Heath & Co Ltd and A.J.Wade Ltd. George Wade & Son Ltd produced excellent products, but they were always very practical items for modern and newly emerging industries, and had no social glamour value which many young businessmen now coveted in the swinging 1920s. This glamour would give their company more coverage and a clearer identity if their products were more widely known and read about. George Wade’s products were only read about in dry and dusty technical journals that only the enthusiast would study. In the exciting and enterprising 1920s, a higher profile for a company became more important as opinion was swayed by a new post-war generation of business contacts, and there was a certain unease in markets such as industrial ceramics. As advertising products spread, sales and marketing “freebies” also began to become common, to gain advantage in business. His Uncle AJ and partner George Heath, who were both former travelling agents, realised the advantage of small Wade mementoes for prospective customers. In their case, they naturally encouraged other companies to do the same (and to have them made by Wade Heath, of course).
So when George approached vivacious Jessie Hallen, he had already been on the lookout for a new mainstream product to be made at George Wade & Son Ltd for some time. He had always been an art lover, and was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. He was also quite a collector of anything a bit different or unusual. He had not been unaware of Jessie’s talent. With her father’s help, she had made quite a name for herself as a freelance modeller, charging good money for her work. She had also worked briefly with firms such as Moorcroft and Coalport. However, after her marriage in 1924 to Harry Hallen and children, her modelling work tailed off as she raised her family.
George, of course, knew her husband through the Hallen firm, which he’d bought from Harry’s father. Harry, a car salesman when he’d married, had since joined the merchant navy, and was away for much of the time. This left Jessie alone with two young children and little time for modelling pottery; until the day George Wade came knocking on her door in 1929.
He wanted her to work for him at the Manchester Pottery. He felt that Jessie and her work would be the breathe of fresh air that he felt his company so needed. Between them they hatched out the plan to set up a new department at George Wade & Son Ltd to make figures, floral items etc. George agreed not only to put her in charge, but to practically give her a free hand, reporting directly to him; an extremely liberal arrangement for the time, unlike any other company.
Soon a varied set of items started to appear; flower posies, garden gnomes, animals, but most especially her extraordinary figurines. These delicate, exciting lady figures received good reviews in the press. Nothing had been seen like them, and perhaps nothing like them since. Sadly, by the time they hit the market in the early 1930s, the depression had set in following the Stock Market crash of 1929. Sales were relatively good for such quality luxury items at that time, due to their low price, but whereas such pieces would have made Jessie famous in better times, it really only enhanced her reputation within the industry. Not only could she run a whole department, but also produce a set of possibly the finest figurines in the world, a fact not appreciated until perhaps after her death.
But Jessie also had a huge affect on the Major, as he was known to Jessie’s girls. George was renowned for having an eye for the ladies, with his charming manner and pretty secretaries. But with Jessie Van Hallen, as she now called herself, he found countless reasons to visit her in her new art department. She was pretty, talented, wore stylish clothes that she made herself, and had an exciting, ebullient nature. Together they made a formidable team. She wanted to make the most exquisite figurines ever seen, and he wanted to make her famous, putting her and George Wade & Son Ltd up in lights alongside Clarice Cliff and Royal Doulton. However, the depression (and, to a limited extent, the innovative early cellulose finish that soon flaked and peeled) saw off their dreams. By the time of the later underglaze figures, the depression was ending and preparation for war was well under way.
George’s only real mistake was not starting the project sooner, in the roaring twenties, in a healthier financial climate. But it did yield a close lifelong friendship with Jessie, with presents and love letters that sometimes were not appreciated by her patient husband. What is surprising is that Jessie never returned to work for George after the war. This may have been partly due to circumstances; Jessie having her third son in 1947, George Wade & Son Ltd working to capacity on much needed post-war industrial ceramics, and regulations restricting the production of luxury items. By the time the company was ready and able to produce such items, Jessie was over 50 and settled into family life, modelling only in her spare time. His alternative proved inspired, however…
While Jessie was setting up her art department, George was investigating improved materials, machinery and work practices. In the inter-war years, his company, which he now ran single-handedly since the retirement of his father in 1927, needed to be ready to produce anything industry (or Jessie) threw at it. During 1929-31, he went into R & D (Research & Development) overdrive, patenting apparatus and processes to improve efficiency and versatility within the company.
In the meantime, the other Wade companies, including Wade Heath & Co Ltd, were coming to the end of an era, with his Uncle Albert (AJ)’s enforced retirement due to illness. George became a director of Wade Heath and A.J.Wade Ltd in 1931, entering a working agreement with George Heath. When AJ died in 1933, scattering Wade shares throughout the family, George Wade soon became Chairman of the two firms (Wade Heath & Co Ltd and A.J.Wade Ltd), despite him only being a minor shareholder in both at the time. The two Georges made the brave decision to combine the two main companies into one, and to float it on the stock market.
The new company incorporated on October 29th 1935 was called Wade Potteries Limited. It was made up of Wade Heath & Co Ltd and A.J.Wade Ltd. However, to show his good faith, George Wade threw in his North Road Mill Company, which gave the floatation more backbone. George Wade became Chairman of the new company, with George Heath as Managing Director. AJ’s widow, Annie, was also a senior director in the new company. The other directors were close friends or in-laws.
On Thursday 7th November 1935, Wade Potteries Limited shares appeared on the London Stock Exchange for the first time. For a floatation in the 1930s, it could not have been better timed, with the exchange buoyant at the thought of a Conservative-led National Government to be elected later that same month. It was a good month all round for George Wade.
With Wade Heath under his wing, he strongly encouraged the production of the beautiful artware, particularly a new range, Flaxman Ware, produced at the Flaxman Works from 1936, and reintroduced after the war.
Wade Heath also followed George Wade & Son Ltd into the animal figure market. With a few bizarre exceptions (Salty the seal, Old Buck, Cheeky Duckling, Pongo and Jumbo), these were mainly close copies of the Sylvac and Crown Devon rabbits and dogs. However, they did make some figures of Walt Disney characters such as Mickey Mouse (mainly to try and sell their Mickey Mouse teasets), and the occasional odd sorrowful dog (see photo). But despite later rehashing old George Wade & Son molds, Wade Heath rarely shone in this area.
On June 4th 1937, George Henry Heath died suddenly, aged 64. He left his Wade shares to his widow, Emily. Thus, George Wade assumed control of Wade Potteries. One of his first moves was to find separate and adjoining premises for Wade Heath. Soon “Wade Heath and Co Ltd” was emblazoned above the main entrance of the Royal Victoria Pottery, across the other side of Westport Road (previously Liverpool Road) from the rest of the Wade buildings. An old school stands between them.
The Royal Victoria Pottery was previously called the Hill Works or Hill Manufactory, which should not be confused with the Hill Pottery or the Hill Top Pottery, later the Royal Pottery, which was on the opposite corner (now demolished and replaced, and recently purchased by Wade). Even Enoch Woods’ grand crenellated Fountain Place Works, which was further up Westport Road near Burslem Market Place, is sometimes confused with both potteries, partly due to the similar frontages; the Venetian window over an arched coach entrance featured prominently in the pottery buildings erected in the early 1800s.
There is also some confusion over the original owners of the site: some say it was Enoch and Ralph Wood; however, the Wedgwood Museum claim manuscripts say it was Josiah Wedgwood, who, after moving his works to Etruria, let the potworks to potters such as John Heath. However, it was the china manufacturers John and Richard Riley who bought what was then called the Hill House Estate in 1811, and in 1814 renovated the works to look very much like they do today. The datestone can still be seen above the Venetian window in the main entrance, reading “Hill Works 1814”. The locals affectionately called it “Jack and Dick’s bonk”, pottery works being called Pot Banks.
When the Riley brothers died in 1828, their business closed, but by 1834 the works were used by Samuel Alcock & Co, who also owned the Hill Pottery, then being renovated. It was then let on behalf of the Riley family to a selection of tenant manufacturers; Barber & Sons (1850s), Morgan Wood & Co (1860s), Wood & Baggaley (1870s), and Jacob Baggaley (1880s). In 1887 Dunn Bennett & Co, took over the lease of what was now called the Royal Victoria Works, although soon after it was renamed the Royal Victoria Pottery. Ultimately, the lease was handed over to Wade Heath in 1938. However, George Wade did not buy the freehold of the site until 1945.
The pottery had been with the Riley family, or at least in trust for the family, for over 130 years. In that time very little had changed inside or out. By as early as the 1830s, the works had fallen behind its neighbour the Hill Pottery, which even had the luxury of its own water supply, so necessary for pottery production particularly in dryer weather when there was no other source of water. As tenants came and went, few improvements were made. What George Wade acquired was an early 1800s pottery building with a great deal of what real estate agents describe as “potential”.
But before George could fully exploit the larger work area, the Second World War broke out in September 1939. The production of all decorative luxury items at Wade Heath & Co Ltd was soon restricted to export only, designed to boost trade with neutral countries and thus fund the war effort. In 1941, the Royal Victoria Pottery briefly joined forces with The Staffs Teapot Co, who camped out at Wades helping to produce plain white utility dinner/tea ware in the very few shapes allowed by HM Board of Trade. Some of this ware survives; each pottery’s ware was graded and marked A, B, or C to indicate the maximum price that could be charged. Only essential work for the war effort was undertaken in the rest of Wades. The Manchester Pottery was used for food storage, and even for ammunition manufacture in the tool room.
George had been commissioned in the South Staffs Regiment as early as July 1939, a full two months before war was officially declared. He was brought in to organise National Defence Companies in Cheshire and Staffordshire. In November 1940, he was appointed to command the Birkenhead Garrison with the rank of Colonel. As a staff officer he wrote a series of twelve books on military training and tactics published by Gale and Polden Ltd, several official pamphlets, the Home Guard bible “Minor Tactics Training Manual” (supposedly a source of information for the BBC TV comedy series “Dad’s Army”), and the curious “The Defence of Bloodford Village”. The latter, with drawings and maps by George himself, tells the story of how Bloodford Village was successfully defended from the Nazi stormtroopers as a result of lessons learnt from the dreams of the seemingly paranoid local Home Guard Commander. Written in 1940, it was designed as a set of useful hints to help Commanders plan the defence of their village. It was also liberally sprinkled with George’s dry humour; with characters Sgt Windy Sugden and former poacher, Guesser Ferrit, living beside the River Booze and Hag’s Pond. Just past the Tank Ambush (sic) is the road to Wallop, of which Middle Wallop was later defended by TV’s Captain Mainwaring.
The Potteries saw very little of the war, apart from the very occasional bombing attack. However, other major cities were not so lucky, and strategic areas such as Liverpool’s docks were heavily blitzed. By the end of the war, it had become clear that a major rebuilding programme would be necessary as soon as hostilities ceased.
When the war finally ended in 1945, the newly elected Labour government was faced with the unenviable task of finding jobs for the millions of returning British soldiers, many of whom had voted Labour believing that they would put the unemployment of the 1930s behind them. One of Labour’s schemes was to offer incentives to companies opening factories in areas of high unemployment. (In those days that didn’t include Stoke!) It was only natural that George should want to exploit this offer, particularly as the industrial ceramics of George Wade & Son Ltd were so badly needed.
Irish Wade
George had by now become Chairman of the British Electrical Ceramic Manufacturer’s Association. This was no surprise as his company was one of the only electrical ceramic manufacturers in the country! and could safely say it was the leader in this field. Industrial ceramics were in big demand for the rebuilding of British housing and industry after 6 years of war and bomb damage, and the Manchester Pottery alone could not cope. And so it was that George sent out his son-in-law on a tour of the UK to find a suitable site for the new factory, establish it, and then run it.
Major H.S.Carryer, Iris Wade’s husband, was no potter. In fact, he’d only ever worked in his family’s furniture and property businesses before joining up. But even if Straker Carryer was apprehensive about the whole idea, he had to admit it was an exciting new challenge and an excellent career opportunity being offered by his father-in-law. After completing his “reconnaissance in depth”, as he later described it, which took him to all four corners of the United Kingdom, he settled on an old linen mill in Portadown, Northern Ireland, housed in a 200 year old building beside the River Bann. In 1946, the site was bought leasehold by George Wade & Son Ltd, and a 204 year lease started ticking away from May 1947. Soon it was converted for pottery use, and was producing porcelain electrical insulators in many shapes and sizes, like their counterparts back in Burslem. Unlike other spinoff Wade factories that came and went over the following 30 years, the Portadown pottery was a steady success, so much so that on January 2nd 1950 it became a private limited company called Wade (Ulster) Ltd. At its height it employed over 400 workers. However, it always worked closely with its parent company, George Wade & Son Ltd, with which there was some rivalry and a certain amount of jealousy.
With the decline in the demand for industrial ceramics in the early 1950s, Wade (Ulster) Ltd started looking for other markets, and found it by chance as a result of the coronation of Elizabeth II. An order was taken by the company to supply special commemorative tankards. However, as they had no experience in this area, they referred the matter to Colonel Wade. He referred it to their sister company, Wade Heath & Co Ltd, despite it supposedly being a completely separate company. However, Wade Heath could not supply the tankards due to a government quota system that did not allow companies to produce more than an agreed amount. So Wade (Ulster) Ltd had to come up with the order themselves. Prototype tankards were produced, with a simple impressed water-wheel ridge decoration at the top and bottom (later developed and used for other ware). With a subtle mix of two glazes, they came out of the kiln an intriguing blue/grey colour, which was an immediate success, and is still used to this day. The glaze mix, though, was a bit too subtle; it had actually been a mistake, and the glazer couldn’t remember which two he had used! It took weeks to replicate the finish, but the order was finally completed and Irish giftware was launched.
The colour of Irish giftware is very distinctive, and can be recognised easily in shops and at collectors fairs. What makes it all the more collectable is that due to the glaze mix and its application, no two pieces come out the same, with greens and browns merging peacefully with the blues and greys. Many pieces are reminiscent in colour of Doulton Lambeth ware, and although most cannot match Lambeth’s elegant shapes, a few are curiously decorative.
The Managing Director’s wife soon got in on the act, becoming Art Director. Iris Carryer had experience of ceramic design, and she was put in charge of developing a wide range of giftware, including goblets, vases, tankards, milk jugs/pitchers, small pots, ashtrays, cigarette lighters etc etc, which were produced until the mid-1980s.
However, Wade (Ulster) Ltd had its fair share of ups and downs. A fire at the factory one morning in October 1956 resulted in most of the site being destroyed. Thanks to a huge effort from the Wade employees, the pottery was up and running again only a week later, and rebuilding completed in 1958. But despite being part of the Whimsey success story, financial uncertainty continued to hang over the company, worsened by the Seamen strike. It changed its name to Wade (Ireland) Ltd. in November 1966, and a series of rebuilding and reorganisation began. By March 1969 renovation was complete, but profits were poor. As profits for the rest of the Wade companies continued to improve significantly in the 1960s and 1970s, Wade (Ireland) Ltd continued to lag behind, despite an enthusiastic workforce. During the recession of the early 1980s, the Irish company made a loss, and was propped up by the other Wade companies. In 1990 it became Seagoe Ceramics Ltd, estranged from the rest of Wades, with their own on-site sales and marketing personnel. Giftware manufacture had ceased in 1986, leaving the company to specialise in tableware and advanced engineering ceramics, until 1993 when tableware production was also closed due to the recession. Grinding, milling and turning machines were transfered from Burslem to the Portadown site, as production of high alumina based ceramics was switched there in 1991. (High alumina based products are produced by pressing materials into shape or machining them from isostatically pressed blanks.) But sales were still poor, and although there is still boardroom optimism that there is a brighter future ahead, they’ve heard that often enough in Watson Street, Portadown.
Wade Whimsies
The reasoning behind Colonel George Wade’s decision to produce little porcelain animals is curious and ironic. After winning the 1950 General Election with a huge vote but only a narrow majority, the Labour Government limped on. After getting Britain back to work in the shadow of war bankruptcy, the Government were hit by cabinet resignations and further unease in the country with the continuation of rationing and general business restrictions. Companies like Wades were forced to export goods, particularly quality wares, thus starving the home market. The Government went to the polls again the following year, and Winston Churchill was narrowly elected Prime Minister for the first and only time.
Colonel Wade had campaigned strongly for the Conservative Party during this time. In 1945 he contested the Newcastle-Under-Lyme seat, but this could hardly be seen as pursuing a career in politics. He had been adopted as a candidate for the coalition National Government as far back as 1937, when he was described as belonging “to an old and esteemed Burslem family, who are amongst the leading pottery manufacturers in the country, their association with the industry going back well over a hundred years”. His Liberal father had also been a supporter of the National Government, although it was controlled by the Conservatives.
For many years Newcastle-Under-Lyme had been a safe seat for Colonel Josiah Clement Wedgwood; a Liberal when he won the seat in 1906, a Labour MP from 1919, and in 1942 Baron Wedgwood of Barlaston, when he quit the House of Commons to enter the House of Lords. So safe was the seat that he was usually elected unopposed. He was also one of the few Labour MPs who kept their seat in the 1930s against the National Government. His successor, John David Mack from Liverpool, was also elected unopposed in 1942. So it was a surprise that Colonel Wade should stand against him, a task hampered by the fact that the Liberals also fielded a candidate, a Lt Col Elliot, managing directory of a local china manufactory. But in the wake of a Labour landslide, it seemed that the higher the rank, the fewer votes they received:
Mr J.D.Mack (Labour) 25,903 66.2%
Col G.A.Wade (Conservative) 8,380 21.4%
Lt Col N.W.Elliot (Liberal) 4,838 12.4% (lost deposit)
Colonel Wade would have been better waiting till the elections of the 1950s, when Labour’s majority was cut to as low as 6000. [The seat has remained a safe Labour seat, with the exception of the 1969 by-election, when a young Nicholas Winterton – now the prominent MP for Macclesfield – came within a thousand votes of beating John Golding, husband of the present MP.] But his severe defeat put Colonel Wade off ever standing again.
In 1951 his campaigning was rewarded with a slim Conservative general election victory and near business disaster. Several profitable government contracts for Wade insulators were cancelled, and as industry steadied after the post-war rebuilding, the demand for general industrial ceramics fell away dramatically. However, the in-coming Government soon began a major house-building programme, which Wades benefitted from indirectly, and many controls and restrictions were lifted, allowing greater production. After years of steady business, this shake-up caused Wades to rethink their future policy.
Wade Heath were able to expand their lines to decorative tableware and ornamental items again, and by August 1952 were even allowed to sell them in the UK. But George Wade & Son Ltd and Wade (Ulster) Ltd required new lines to avoid financial loss and laying off experienced staff. In the absence of designers such as Jessie Van Hallen, Colonel Wade, and in particular his son Tony, decided to return to making small animal figures as they had done briefly before the war. The story goes that Tony’s private secretary described these new tiny porcelain figures as whimsical, and that is why they were called Whimsies. They were initially sold as boxed sets of five for 5/9d, and only later split to make them more affordable to children. The historical first set, produced in 1953, consisted of a leaping fawn, a horse, a spaniel, a poodle and a rather desultory squirrel.
Ten sets were produced in all between 1953 and 1959, the sizes of the figures ranging from 3/4″ to almost 2″ high. Their originality, attention to detail and colour for such small pieces (particularly in the later sets) was widely applauded. Some of the figures were very clever and intricate, particularly the birds and the horses. Some were just plain cute, such as the polar bears and the Saint Bernard. However, some were fairly bulbous in design (or “chunkey”, as Pottery and Glass magazine described them) or just plain silly, and with the absence of any logical scaling, it seemed almost lunacy to display side-by-side a squirrel that was almost twice the size of a beagle or a crocodile! But this was part of the fun of Whimsies.
Unsurprisingly, children loved them and they were a major success for the company. More importantly, Whimsies started up a new style of collecting among young people that has spread far and wide. Very few had the time, money or space to collect anything of note; for example, Toby Jugs or Flatbacks. But the success of Whimsies had as much to do with their size and price as it did on their design. It is believed that Wades opened up a whole new market for collecting that was thought to be the prerogative of the more well-to-do.
Whimsies were produced jointly by George Wade & Son Ltd at the Manchester Pottery, Burslem (sets 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9), and Wade (Ulster) Ltd in Portadown (sets 2, 4, 6, 8, and 10). As if rivalry and jealousy between the two sites wasn’t enough, there was then a unholy row in Portadown over the Irish pieces marked “Wade England“. On the eve of strike action, which would have brought production to a standstill, Carryer Straker was called in to settle the dispute.
Wades soon had other companies trying to cash in on their success, such as Hanley firm J.H. Weatherby & Sons Ltd with their “Zookies” and “Sea Twinks”. There were many imaginative imitations, but there was only one Wade Whimsey. This was a fact hard to swallow even at George Wade & Son Ltd, who followed their ground breaking Whimsies with similar products with varying amounts of success. Minikins were introduced in 1956, but disappeared in a wake of Whimsies. They were smaller, simpler white or beige animals with dozens of decorative variations. Collecting a “complete set”, if such a thing existed, seemed deliberately impossible. Minikins were intended as smaller and cheaper Whimsies, although at an initial price of 1/- (one shilling) each in the mid-1950s, a comprehensive collection was hardly within the grasp of the average British child.
But then George and Tony Wade signed agreements with American TV and film companies to produce a multitude of Wade cartoon characters, such as Hanna-Barbera’s Yogi Bear; MGM’s Tom and Jerry; and, most successfully of all, Walt Disney’s Dumbo, Lady and the Tramp, and later Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Wade Heath had already produced Walt Disney ware in the 1930s, but this new agreement was quite a coup as these characters, and many others produced by Wades, were regularly seen by children for decades after on TV and at the cinema. Whereas some characters came and went such as the TV Pets series, Bambi and Thumper became household names. The Disney “Blow-Ups”, 5″ versions of figures that were originally 1″-2″ high, were (despite their simple design) particularly statuesque, and later very collectable.
George Wade & Son Ltd branched out into other giftware. Animals such as tortoises, horses and dogs had their day. Nursery rhyme figures proved particularly impressive. Pin trays such as the Whimtray, an ashtray with a leftover Whimsey stuck on (at the Colonel’s insistence), also started to appear, along with many other dishes, trays and small posy bowls. [These are all beautifully catalogued in the World Of Wade books.] As late as 1980 came Whimsey-on-Why, small houses from a fictitious village, whose unimaginitive transfers sullied the project, particularly as they looked like a poor imitation of rival projects. Bally-Whim was the short-lived Irish equivalent. Their revival in 1993 as Whimsey-in-the-Vale, still the same models but with more imaginative transfers, was an attempt to get it right second or third time around. Hardly a success when you take into account that David Tate sold his Lilliput miniature cottage company in 1994 for £37 million after founding the business in his garage 12 years before…
But their biggest crime was to try and reproduce their Whimsey success with dire new sets such as the 1970s Whimsies, Whoppas, the Red Rose tea animals series, the party cracker figures, and Whimsie-Land. Credit where credit is due, there were arguably one or two well designed and painted figures amongst these sets. On the other hand, despite Wades introducing revolutionary methods of production, many figures barely resembled the animal they were supposed to depict. Some were no more than blobs in a haphazard selection of colours, with their legs and bodies indistinguishable from the base in colour and texture. These modern equivalents show a regression in Wade figure-making rather than a progression, causing many recent observers to scoff at Wade Whimsies. These figures have tarnished the company’s name where the original Whimsies enhanced it.
In all fairness, many of these later Whimsies were used as cheap promotional items for Brooke Bond in the USA and Canada (known there as Red Rose tea), and Tom Smith & Co Ltd (party and Christmas crackers, which Wades moved into in 1963), and thus were not meant to be works of art. In contrast, the company did try to break out of the cheap end of the market with experimental projects such as the short lived World of Survival series, which failed to find an audience at all. The miniature Nursery Rhyme series for Red Rose tea showed only occasional flair (for example, the excellent Ginger Bread Man), and the KP Friars were almost laughable. However, there was no excuse for Whoppas…
Although it is easy to criticize, these pieces were generally successful for the company. However, George Wade had drastically cut giftware production in 1965 in favour of industrial ceramics (on the return of a Labour Government, note, and Prime Minister Harold Wilson’s ‘White Heat of scientific revolution’). But these pieces and a revival of the ever popular Disney figures spearheaded a new offensive on the gift market in the early 1970s (on the return of a Conservative government!).
Wade Heath, Wade Regicor and Wade PDM
Meanwhile Wade Heath & Co Ltd continued to produce jugs/pitchers, tankards, and most particularly decorative tableware. The most impressive ranges were arguably the Gothic and Peony lines; Gothic with its beautifully shaped deco-like pitchers and pastel colours, Peony with its hand-painted flowers and leaves. But their most successful branch line was into advertising ware.
In 1950 Wade Heath joined forces with a retail agency called Reginald Corfield (Sales) Ltd, based in Merton, in south-west London. Corfield had arrangements with other pottery firms such as Burleigh (Burgess and Leigh Ltd at the Middleport Pottery) and Mintons (Stoke), and was at some time part of the firm Hancock Corfield and Waller Ltd (hcw) of Mitcham, a few minutes walk from Merton. Wade Regicor, as the new arrangement was called, grew to be a great success with Corfield’s many business contacts, and Wade Heath’s flair for design and production.
Wade Regicor broke into the pub/bar advertising ware market in a big way, pushing aside heavyweights such as Royal Doulton, Spode and Mintons. They produced pub water jugs and ashtrays in varying shapes and sizes, mostly advertised beer, lager or whisky. Many were fairly mundane, and some were even copies of old Beswick/Minton/Spode/Doulton ware, such as the Bass water jug, or the Chivas or MacKinlay’s Whisky decanters. Many firms demanded unique products, such as the Captain Morgan ashtray in the shape of a rowboat, the Lowenbrau ashtray in the shape of a castle, the four Guinness figures that included the Mad Hatter and the Wellington Boot, or the Bertola Cream Sherry decanter in the shape of a spanish wine decanter or poron.
Advertising ware proved a great success for Wade, and they soon became leaders in this field. So much so that they soon began to reduce tableware production, again returning to the ethic of selling to other companies rather than direct to the public. Success for Wade Regicor’s advertising ware also proved a success in advertising Wades themselves, as their products (almost always with the Wade mark on the bottom) began turning up not just in pubs but also into the hands of an increasing number of collectors.
Their connections with scotch whisky companies helped Wade Heath to secure lucrative deals with Bell’s, Pusser’s and many others. These companies wanted to sell their spirits in special porcelain decanters, as well as the normal glass bottles. The most famous of these was the Bell’s Whisky decanters in the shape of a handbell. The full sized bell had been made exclusively by Royal Doulton since before the Second World War, and they introduced the half size in the late 1950s. In 1960, Spode won the contract to produce these decanters, and the Royal Norfolk pottery in Shelton (near Hanley) even had a go. But in 1965, Wade took over the contract, and has kept it ever since. Originally, the Wade decanters faithfully reproduced their predecessors, although with slightly less gold paint. Gradually, particularly with the introduction of the quarter size and miniature, the rich golden brown colour became more and more anaemic.
Special Royal Commemorative Bell’s were produced for events such as the weddings of Lady Diana Spencer to the Prince of Wales and Sarah Ferguson to the Duke of York (or Prince Andrew as he was when the decanters were produced). In 1988, a new bell shape was introduced, looking more like a church bell than a handbell. This shape has been used for many Commemoratives, including the annual Christmas Bells, and the special 12 year old Bell’s whisky. United Distillers UK plc in Perth, Scotland keep collectors up to date with new additions to the collection. Reginald Corfield had by now moved to offices in Redhill, Surrey. But Wade Regicor’s successful partnership finally came to an end in the summer of 1969. Wades realised they had drummed up enough business and a firm reputation to be able to go it alone.
On 20th August 1969, Wade (PDM) Limited was launched, PDM standing for Point-of-Sale, Design and Marketing. Wade (PDM) Ltd has gone from strength to strength. Most pub ashtrays and water jugs are produced by them, and their whisky decanters or “flagons” are sold throughout the world. They have even moved away from traditional ceramic ware and experimented in the use of glass, plastic and tin (such as tin trays) using outside firms for production.
Initially based in Purley, Surrey, Wade (PDM) Ltd was finally relocated to a more sensible location, where else but the Royal Victoria Pottery, in 1989. Production there had come to depend on, even be dominated by PDM contracts.
The Wade Group of Potteries
The decline of Wade Heath & Co Ltd after the war, or at least its identity, was the result of a number of factors. With the success of Whimsies, giftware, tiled fireplaces and Wade Regicor, there was little room for decorative teapots, vases and tableware. There is very little to be said for much of the post-war Wade Heath, such as Brambleware or the tankards. Their attempts at tableware, with the exception of designs like “Mode”, showed very little flair in this area of the market. Wade Heath became increasingly dependent on contracts from George Wade and Son Ltd and Wade Regicor/PDM.
Boundaries between all these companies had by the 1950s become increasingly vague, a trend Colonel Wade was happy to encourage. In September 1951, he launched a company magazine called The Jolly Potter, which ran until 1960. It included articles by workers and managers from all the Wade companies. This was despite the fact that George Wade and Son Ltd was still a completely separate company from the publicly owned Wade Potteries Limited that controlled Wade Heath and A.J.Wade Ltd. This was solved in 1958 when Wade Potteries Limited took over George Wade and Son Ltd, including Wade (Ireland) Ltd, bringing the Wade companies together for the first time. Colonel Wade’s sons-in-law, H Stracker Carryer and Hubert Thurman Robinson, were added to the board of Wade Potteries Ltd, which already included his brother in law, Ernest Shields, his aunt Annie Florence Wade (AJ Wade’s widow), and Reginald Clive Birbeck, who was Harry and Jessie Hallen’s brother-in-law!
But the dominant force amongst them all was the Colonel’s son George Anthony Wade, or Tony Wade. Born in 1923, he received the Military Cross in the war, like his father had done in the First World War. After being demobbed in 1947, he joined George Wade and Son Ltd, becoming a director a year later, and Joint Managing Director in 1949. Although living in the shadow of his more outspoken father, Tony inherited all his father’s skill and business instinct, whilst also commanding great respect from his peers. He also became a good friend of one of Wade’s most famous collaborators, Walt Disney. With Tony as Managing Director and Colonel Wade as Chairman, they dominated Wade Potteries Ltd during the exciting 1950s and 1960s until Christmas 1971 when the Colonel stepped down for Tony to become Chairman.
During this time Wade Potteries Ltd acquired other factories and companies. In the 1950s, A.J.Wade Ltd had branches making glazed tiles for them in Stevenston, near Motherwell in Scotland, and later Carfin, near Glasgow. A.J.Wade Ltd had also by now taken over the running of the North Road Mill Company. By 1970, Wade Potteries Ltd had non-trading companies Ceramic Automation Ltd in Burslem and Irish Porcelain Company Ltd in Dublin. All of these, however, were short-lived projects.
In January 1964, they took over William Kent (Porcelains) Ltd. William Kent, originally a pottery engineer, founded his company in 1878. Originally, he provided and maintained grinding mills for pottery materials at his North Road Engineering Works in Cobridge, where Wades later established their North Road Mill Company. He then moved into pottery production, making china figurines, novelties and, of course, teapots at his Novelty Works in Wellington Street, where Henry and Harding Hallen had been. However, the company caught the attention of Colonel Wade when it devoted the whole of their spacious factory to making electrical porcelain and specialised components for the electronic industry. As part of the acquisition, their managing director, John Kent, was – albeit briefly – appointed to the board of Wade Potteries Ltd. Over the next decade, the old site was wound down, and manufacture switched to the Manchester Pottery, in a repeat performance of the Hallen takeover sixty years before.
The next major acquisition for Wade Potteries Ltd was in 1975 when they were involved in a drawn out £250,000 takeover of Govancroft Potteries Ltd, manufacturers of stoneware containers, mainly for the Scotch whisky industry. It was publicised as Wades’ first venture into Scotland (their tilemaking there in the 1950s was obviously done on the quiet!). The Glasgow firm, founded in 1911, was finally landed in November 1975. A further £250,000 was sunk into opening a second Govancroft factory in 1980, but as the early 1980s recession began to bite, so Govancroft bit the dust in 1981. Unsurprisingly, the order-books came to Burslem.
Tilemaking at A.J.Wade Ltd was another victim of profitability. The tiled fireplace market began to decline in the late 1950s, ironically as a result of the increase in gas fires, which George Wade and Son Ltd had a stake in. In 1959 all 1400 employees of Wade Potteries Ltd were allowed period-of-notice benefit in the event of redundancy. In March 1962, 120 of these made use of this benefit in Wades’ largest redundancy programme. Volume production at A.J.Wade Ltd was discontinued in favour of specialist tiles and similar products requiring firing at higher temperatures. This was soon swallowed up by George Wade and Son Ltd, leaving the slabbers – fireplace makers – at A.J.Wade Ltd to continue to make fireplaces but with materials from other sources. In 1970, A.J.Wade Ltd, by now a tiny section in a large corporation, finally came to an end after years of decline. In his annual report of that year, Colonel Wade said, “The production space which will come available will be used to expand other more rewarding activities within the Group”. It was over twenty years before even a section of it was put to use, when it was turned into the factory shop.
In the post war years, the Colonel’s original company George Wade and Son Ltd led the way for Wade Potteries Ltd. In 1962, Tony Wade had the idea for ceramic electric radiators. By the end of 1964, the Wade Potteries Ltd was paying a 30% dividend to shareholders, after not paying any dividend at all a year or two before. Record profits were soon being realised annually, particularly in the 1970s. The company was always looking ahead. In 1966 they began investing in ceramic products for the electronics industry. In the 1970s, they moved into oxide ceramics for mechanical, electronic and nuclear applications. In 1984 they set up an aero-space division to manufacture nose-cones for rockets and missiles, plus ceramic coated alloys for printed circuitry. A year later, it was ceramic fibre components, and then, as part of a consortium, developed Keralloy, a ceramic coated alloy.
However, the recessions of the 1980s took their toll on the group. In summer 1980, two thirds of the workforce were put on a two day week. But profits still slumped, and there were regular rounds of redundancies. But unlike many other pottery firms who went to the wall, Wades held firm, and even managed to stay profitable. By 1988 they were able to buy ATP Management Ltd for £500,000, which included Avon Tin Printers, who had produced tin trays and ashtrays for Wade (PDM) Ltd since 1970. However, this was sold off a year later.
In November 1989, they were appoached by the engineering firm, Beauford PLC, who proposed a £20million takeover bid. The deal was finalised over Christmas, and Wades ceased to be an independent company in January 1990. Wade Potteries Ltd became Wade Ceramics Ltd, except for Wade (Ireland) Ltd, which became Seagoe Ceramics Ltd, a direct subsidiary of Beauford instead of Wades. However, unlike Wades, Beauford were on a downhill slide to near disaster, losing money hand over fist. In 1992 alone they lost £26 million, with Wades barely breaking even themselves. In 1993 they took drastic action to keep themselves afloat by way of a major refinancing. This involved effectively devaluing their shares, and printing more shares to give to banks as payment for mounting debts. There were also mass redundancies, mainly in the Beauford engineering division of the company, who now only employ 230 people. Wade and Seagoe together employ only 720, but are fast becoming the major player at Beaufords, instead of the initial junior partner. Ironically, at the time of the 1989 takeover bid, the press announced that “A major job boost was forecast”. At the time, Beaufords employed more than 700, Wades around 1200.
Most industrial ceramics are now made at Seagoe. These include radomes in fused silica, which are nose-cones for missiles that are transparent to guidance systems and able to withstand speeds of Mach 7; and the DN200, which is the largest ceramic ball valve in the world! Meanwhile, Wades are the UK market leader in the manufacture of ceramic components, plus fake fibre logs and coals for gas fires. So successful are they that in 1994 they opened a branch of Wades in Winchester, Kentucky to take advantage of the growing market in ceramic fibre logs for the US and Canadian gas fire industry. Very much nearer home, Wades bought their neighbour and competitor A.G.Hackney from GEC plc in 1995. Apart form making industrial ceramics, Hackneys also make glove and balloon formers for the industrial latex industry. With Hackneys occupying the site of the old Hill Top Pottery, it is curious – and somewhat confusing – that Wades have chosen to change the name of the Royal Victoria Pottery to The Hill Top Works. The Manchester Pottery is now the Greenhead Works, which at least is a more meaningful name.
Wades still make point-of-sale ceramics such as whisky decanters or “flagons”, and a few gift items and even tea pots. But more and more they stick with selling by contract to other companies. They describe themselves as the UK’s leading contract ceramics manufacturer, selling to “key national accounts and wholesale/volume trade”, rather than more directly to retail outlets. With the inception of their own Wade Collectors Club in 1994, it should be interesting to see if that remains the case.
The end of an era
Before the war, Colonel Wade moved out to Brand Hall near Norton-in-Hales, several miles south-west of the city. A huge brick building with stone facings, it is better known to Wade collectors as Bloodshot Hall from Whimsey-on-Why. Built around 1700, the frontage includes imposing stone columns, and a large stone carving of the Styche family Arms and Crest. His son Tony lived nearby at Mucklestone Wood.
From Brand Hall, Colonel Wade wrote many interesting articles, some of which appeared in the Wade magazine, The Jolly Potter (1951-1960). Many were amusing and occasionally irreverent. In one, he accuses British Rail staff of pinching daffodils from his Norton-in-Hales plantation, which they indignantly denied. In another, he bemoans that “Nowadays all the children seem to have been disillusioned and no longer believe in Santa Claus while most of their parents do. They have changed his name, of course, and he is now known as the ‘WELFARE STATE’, and he is confidently expected to go on producing all sorts of good things for nothing in the old fashioned way. Ah, well, we all grow up some time or other.” However, most remarkable of all is his 1953 story, “The Future”, in which he describes how a hypnotist sends him to a Burslem 500 years into the future, before pinching his watch before he returns. In this story he describes an environmentally-friendly world, cellular phones, a world-wide universal language, dogs wearing clothes, a four hour working day, a Burslem University, and no town hall (a rich American had bought it and was using it for a seaside residence).
Colonel Wade lived until the ripe old age of 94. It was only the following year that his only son, Tony, died suddenly of leukemia, in May 1987. For the first time there was no Wade at the helm of the company. Managing Director Jack Johnston became chairman. Within three years they were owned by Beauford.
But the legacy of Colonel and Tony Wade lives on. A new and growing band of Wade collectors has emerged in the 1980s/90s. Their collecting is avid to the point of hysterical; their enthusiasm for all things Wade still bewilders Wades themselves, although they are slowly – still slowly – beginning to cater for it.
There are Wade Conventions, Wade auctions in London’s prestige auction-houses, collectors funding limited edition Wade figures, several rival Wade Collectors Clubs, and more books on Wade pottery in the pipeline from Pat Murray and Warner & Posgay. Some dealers felt that as Wade prices stabilized in the early 1990s that the bubble may have burst, that Wade collecting was a passing fad. But it was not the case. Wade collecting becomes more popular by the year, maybe not as widespread as the 1950s, but more intense.
Wade Ceramics Ltd and Seagoe Ceramics Ltd are major industrial companies with a large public following. Colonel and Tony Wade could surely not have asked for more.
