“Here men and women were working side by side, the women subordinate to the men. All were preoccupied, wrapped up in their respective operations, and there was the sound of irregular whirring movements from every part of the big room. The air was laden with whitish dust, and clay was omnipresent—on the floor, the walls, the benches, the windows, on clothes, hands and faces. It was in this shop, where both hollow-ware pressers and flat pressers were busy as only craftsmen on piecework can be busy, that more than anywhere else clay was to be seen in the hand of the potter.” Anna of the Five Towns by Arnold Bennett.

Family heirlooms are loaded both with history and with sentiment. While an heirloom’s historical significance often grows over time, the sentimental side of it inevitably diminishes down the generations.

A once-cherished heirloom very often becomes something a baffled descendant holds up in the air while wondering “Is this teacup pretty enough to keep?” “Does this glass lamp match my decor?” Or more likely. “I wonder if this hideous silver ladle is worth something.”

In my house, I have many heirlooms from my husband’s side –and have disposed of even more – and only a few from my mother’s side. My mother’s much older sisters got all the delightful bourgeois bric-a-brac from the family, my mother ended up with only a few turn-of-the-last-century vases.

I gave my sister-in law this Austrian Amphora with a cascade of cherries. She has more baroque decorating tastes than I do.

This classic Schneider Verre Francaise I keep in an Art Deco place of honour – on the floor – so my kamikaze cat won’t knock it over.

And the two rather ugly portrait vases once belonging to my chere Grandmaman Crepeau, I keep up on a shelf in the spare bedroom

for one reason and one reason only: I was practically born under them.

December 1954. That’s me in father’s arms. We are at my Aunt’s home in NDG

Twenty years ago, I investigated the provenance of the ugly vases for my Mom. She had just inherited them from my Aunt. They had a certain Pre-Raphaelite feel, I told her. Maybe they were worth something.

It didn’t take too long to figure out. These vases were English “art nouveau’¹ Rembrandt vases out of the Thomas Forester factory in Longton, Stoke-on-Trent, a business supplying “useful and decorative” pottery to the masses.

1912 Thomas Forester Showroom, Glasgow. The company specialized in Phoenix ware, a bright blue kind of pottery.

Later, I brought the ugly vases to a woman who was holding a “road show” event locally and she seemed impressed that I knew of their provenance. She said my Rembrandt vases were worth 400 dollars. Well, OK. Today, I can see a nearly identical pair on auction in Yorkshire for a mere 30 British pounds.

These days, I display the vases beside a print-out of a painting of the Pompeii Cleopatra. (I am a classical history enthusiast which, let’s face it, is largely about pottery – or pottery shards.) There’s a similarity in style, I think, especially with the girl on the left. I’ve always called her the Egyptian girl.

The back of the vases. Poppies? The Road Show lady said all the ugly bleeding is a mark of multiple firings and a good thing.

The designer of the vases is likely one Thomas Deans ². I wonder if Mr. Deans ever visited Pompeii. Still, I don’t find these vases very appealing. Too chiaroscuro³ for my tastes. Too rough around the edges. The auction sites agree 🙂

Now, wouldn’t you know, Mary, the Queen of England, expressed a fondness for Rembrandt vases in 1913, the very year my vases were thrown. I know because Their Majesties made a tour of the Potteries (five towns in Staffordshire) in April . The tour was recounted in detail in the May 1913 issue of The Pottery Gazette.

The pottery industry was so important in England in 1913 that it warranted a Royal tour.

The King and Queen were also there, I suspect, to help calm down the natives who were upset over muscly new workplace laws threatening their businesses^.5

This Royal visit was a PR masterclass, skilfully curated in support of the English pottery industry: The Royal Couple was on a tight schedule but they always seemed to linger longer than permitted, “so interested they were in the orchid paintings of Mr. Dewsbury; such pleasure they took in the engravings of Mr. Wyze; how attentively they watched the Wedgewood throwers at their work.”

And at every turn, Her Majesty revealed a vast knowledge of all things moulded, pressed and thrown.

Their Majesties did not stop at the two Thomas Forester factories in Longton but they did visit another factory-of-the-masses in that town signifying that they were not pottery snobs and very much interested in the ‘utilitarian’ aspect of the products.

They also went upscale. It was at the Doulton Factory toward the end of their tour where Queen Mary expressed a keen interest in my vases, ah, well, similar ones. “The Rembrandtware was singled out by the Queen for special inspection.” I guess, she really liked those gloomy vases gilded with gold.

So, my ugly art nouveau vases do contain a bit of history, even if it can’t be proved that Thomas Dean the designer ever visited Pompeii; even if Queen Mary of Teck, King Charles’ great-grandmother, never set eyes on them. 4

The vases certainly contain loads of sentiment: that photo is the only one I have of me as a baby and I’m in my Dad’s arms. For all I know, I first learned to focus my eyes on one of those gilded West Midlands maidens as my father moved toward the couch for this first-ever family photo-op.

Reminder to self: Put a copy of this story in one of the vases for when my my kids are deciding whether to give it to the VON. Also. Reread Anna of the Five Towns.

Thomas Forester: A local self-made man with good business sense. He would have two factories on Longton, his home town.

1. Art Nouveau. I love Art Nouveau. But where are the Mucha-like flowers in the hair? Forester produced prettier vases with women adorned like that. Just not here. My vases are a mishmash (miss match) of Dutch Golden Age, Art Nouveau and Classical Antiquity, I think anyway.

2. My vases have no Forester stamp, just a squiggly line, but online at auction an identical vase was designated Deans.

3. Rembrandt style as in clear/dark. I remember the term from an art history lecture in college. Funny what sticks in your head. Doulton Rembrandt vases are worth a fair bit on the auction sites. They have traditional portraits of hoary old men.

4. Maybe she did, after all. To put a stamp on the Royal visit, the Potteries mounted a huge exhibit for the benefit of all citizens.

5. Children under fourteen were banned from the workplace. The glass industry said this would ruin them. Boys needed to start work at 10 or so in order to become apprentices at 14. Not to worry, the children would only work 44 hours a week! There were new laws regarding the unbearable heat in the buildings, too, and lead-poisoning (of women and children) was also a topical issue.