1 Antiques. William Adams vs. Wedgwood: The Jasperware Controversy

The Pupil Who May Never Have Been a Pupil

For generations, the story was straightforward.

Josiah Wedgwood invented jasperware, the elegant unglazed ceramic with its colored backgrounds and finely modelled classical reliefs. William Adams, a talented young potter, learned the craft under Wedgwood's direction before establishing his own successful business at Greengates, Tunstall.

Adams became an accomplished manufacturer, but in the conventional telling, his achievement remained derivative: an able craftsman following the path of a greater inventor.

The account appeared to have impeccable historical credentials.

In 1885, the Dictionary of National Biography described Adams as Wedgwood's favored pupil and acknowledged the extraordinary quality of his work. Yet its final judgment was dismissive. Adams, it declared, had introduced little that was fundamentally new.

It was an assessment that simultaneously praised his craftsmanship and denied him an independent artistic identity.

The difficulty is that an important part of this familiar narrative may be wrong.

A letter written in 1800, while William Adams was still alive, identifies his apprenticeship master as someone other than Wedgwood.

And so the history of Adams jasperware begins with a reversal: perhaps the relationship that generations of historians took for granted was never quite what they supposed.

Wedgwood's Achievement: The Invention of Jasperware

Any serious reconsideration of Adams must begin by recognizing the scale of Wedgwood's achievement.

Josiah Wedgwood (1730–1795) was not simply an inspired designer. He was a systematic experimenter, an exceptionally capable businessman, and one of the most important manufacturers of the early Industrial Revolution.

In the early 1770s, he began developing a ceramic material that would combine the refinement of classical sculpture with the durability and reproducibility of stoneware.

The task proved extraordinarily difficult.

His experiments explored combinations of clays, minerals, coloring oxides, and firing processes. Barium compounds, including barytes, figured in his investigations.

A history published by History West Midlands places the principal development period between December 1772 and December 1774, with further refinement continuing through 1777.

Wedgwood himself was sufficiently frustrated by the material's unpredictable behavior to describe it in 1776 as exceptionally difficult to manage.

The eventual result was jasperware: a fine-grained, generally unglazed stoneware capable of accepting delicate relief ornamentation and colored grounds.

Its artistic possibilities were enormous.

The prevailing Neoclassical taste favored Greek and Roman subjects, cameo-like compositions, restrained colors, and elegantly proportioned forms. Jasperware supplied a remarkably effective medium for expressing that aesthetic.

Wedgwood's finest productions, culminating in his celebrated reproduction of the Portland Vase around 1790, were achievements in both manufacturing technology and decorative art.

His priority in the invention of this ceramic body is supported by contemporary experimental documentation and remains the accepted historical position.

But inventing a material is not the same thing as possessing an exclusive claim to every artistic or technical development that follows.

That distinction brings us to William Adams.

William Adams of Greengates: A Rival Emerges

William Adams belonged to a Staffordshire family whose pottery-making history extended back generations.

Several members of the extended family shared his name, creating persistent confusion in later histories and even in the attribution of surviving ceramics.

Our subject is William Adams of Greengates, Tunstall, who died in 1805.

By the late 1780s, he was producing ornamental jasperware of exceptional quality.

His output included vases, plaques, medallions, and other decorative objects inspired by classical antiquity. He also manufactured black basalt and other ceramic wares.

Adams was no insignificant local competitor.

His commercial activities extended to London, and his ornamental products found an audience among fashionable buyers attracted to the same classical revival that made Wedgwood famous.

An especially important aspect of his achievement was his ability as a modeller.

Unlike manufacturers who simply reproduced established decorations, Adams was credited with designing significant portions of his own ornamental repertoire.

Subjects associated with his work included The Seasons, Venus Bound, Cupid Disarmed, Pandora, Psyche Trying One of Cupid's Darts, and The Muses.

He also employed specialist artistic talent, including a Swiss modeller whose name appears in historical accounts as Monglott.

These were not merely routine commercial reproductions. They represented original artistic choices and sophisticated execution within the international Neoclassical movement.

And that distinction became increasingly important as ceramic historians began to reconsider the relative merits of Wedgwood and his contemporaries.

Was Adams Wedgwood's Artistic Equal?

The most compelling reassessment appeared in Arthur Hayden's Chats on Old Earthenware, published in 1909.

Hayden did not attempt to diminish Wedgwood's standing. Instead, he argued that the traditional concentration on Wedgwood had obscured other outstanding potters.

He singled out William Adams and John Turner as independent artistic competitors whose work deserved serious consideration.

Of Adams's blue jasper, Hayden offered an extraordinary judgment:

"The blue jasper of William Adams, if anything, is rather finer than that of his master."

He also praised an Adams vase dating from approximately 1790, then in the British Museum, describing its modelling and arrangement as unsurpassed even by Wedgwood.

Such judgments necessarily contain an element of taste. They cannot establish that Adams's entire production was superior to Wedgwood's, nor that every contemporary observer shared Hayden's preference.

Nevertheless, they demonstrate that a knowledgeable historian could examine the finest examples from both manufacturers and find Adams fully competitive in artistic quality.

Hayden identified differences in their appearance.

He described Adams's blue as possessing a violet character and his jasper body as somewhat more waxen than Wedgwood's, although not glossy. He also regarded Adams's classical reliefs as less severe in character.

These observations offer a useful distinction between artistic quality and commercial reputation.

Wedgwood enjoyed the stronger international brand, the more influential manufacturing organization, and the enduring association between his name and jasperware itself.

Adams, however, could achieve comparable excellence in the actual object.

The inventor of a medium need not be its only master.

That is perhaps the most important artistic conclusion to emerge from their rivalry.

The First Plot Twist: John Brindley

The traditional account of Adams's apprenticeship acquired additional authority through repetition.

Eliza Meteyard's nineteenth-century biography of Josiah Wedgwood identified Adams as his pupil. The Dictionary of National Biography repeated the relationship, as did subsequent ceramic histories.

Even Hayden, while defending Adams's independence as an artist, accepted the familiar description of him as Wedgwood's former pupil.

Yet an Adams family history introduced a potentially decisive complication.

It reproduced an extract attributed to Thomas Byerley, a senior figure in the Wedgwood enterprise, writing to Josiah Wedgwood II on March 9, 1800.

The correspondence concerned a dispute over the use of a mineral material in pottery manufacture.

In collecting evidence of earlier manufacturing practice, Byerley reported that William Adams had identified John Brindley as the master to whom he had been apprenticed.

This is a materially different kind of evidence from a later biographical tradition.

It is attributed to correspondence written during Adams's lifetime and to information supplied by Adams himself.

The original letter reportedly remained among the Etruria papers when the family historian examined it, although the manuscript has not been independently inspected for the present investigation.

If the published transcription is accurate, it establishes strong grounds for recognizing Brindley as Adams's apprenticeship master.

It does not prove that Adams never worked at Etruria, never received instruction from Wedgwood, or never collaborated with him.

But it seriously weakens the assertion that Adams's formal apprenticeship was served under Wedgwood.

The distinction is more than biographical.

If Adams was already a trained potter before entering Wedgwood's professional circle, his later accomplishments cannot automatically be explained as the products of an apprenticeship under the better-known manufacturer.

The familiar teacher-and-pupil story becomes considerably less certain.

The Second Plot Twist: Too Much Butter in the Paste

An even more intriguing story appears in Meteyard's account of the relationship between Adams and Wedgwood.

According to the anecdote, Adams discussed the success of his jasperware experiments with Wedgwood.

The elder potter responded with a memorable observation:

"I have hitherto put too much butter in my paste."

The remark has obvious appeal.

Here is Wedgwood, the celebrated inventor and methodical experimenter, apparently recognizing something valuable in the technical experience of another potter.

The expression suggests that Wedgwood may have considered his own ceramic mixture unnecessarily rich, expensive, or otherwise excessive.

But there are limits to what we can infer.

The conversation has not been verified against a contemporary manuscript. We do not know precisely when it occurred, what materials were being discussed, or whether the phrase was remembered accurately.

Nor does it establish that Adams invented jasperware independently.

It does, however, complicate the portrayal of Adams as a passive recipient of Wedgwood's knowledge.

If the conversation is authentic, Adams was conducting successful experiments and exchanging observations with a potter who had already achieved extraordinary technical distinction.

The direction of influence, at least on that occasion, may have run from Adams to Wedgwood.

That possibility leads directly to the most difficult question in their history.

One Name, Different Jasperware Formulas

The term jasperware can create a misleading impression of chemical uniformity.

A collector examining two blue-and-white jasper vases may reasonably conclude that they belong to the same category of ceramic production.

But they need not have been manufactured using identical ingredients.

Jasperware is recognized by a combination of physical and decorative characteristics, including its fine ceramic body, matte surface, colored grounds, and sharply modelled reliefs.

Those characteristics can be approached through different compositions and manufacturing methods.

The clearest historical example is John Turner of Lane End.

Turner was another exceptional Staffordshire potter who competed in the market for fine Neoclassical ornamental ceramics.

Arthur Hayden explicitly distinguished Turner's jasper body from Wedgwood's, describing it as more closely related to porcelain and stating that it contained no barytes.

Wedgwood, by contrast, had investigated barium-bearing materials in developing his compositions.

The historical account therefore establishes an important principle: similar-looking jasperwares were not necessarily made from the same formula.

This raises the possibility that Adams developed a separate body composition, perhaps through experimentation with materials already familiar to him.

Adams's distinctive surface qualities, color, and modelling characteristics suggest that his production had a recognizable identity.

But appearance is not chemical proof.

No authenticated comparative laboratory analysis of eighteenth-century Adams and Wedgwood jasperware has been established in the sources reviewed for this article.

Consequently, we cannot specify which ingredients Adams employed in a particular recipe, how closely they resembled Wedgwood's, or whether they were developed without access to information from Etruria.

The distinction between independent formulation and independent invention is essential.

A potter might devise a different ceramic recipe after seeing an established product. That would be an independent technical achievement, but not necessarily an independent invention of the entire class of ware.

Alternatively, manufacturers might arrive at similar processes through experimentation informed by the same wider industry knowledge.

A claim of independent invention therefore requires more than the existence of a different recipe.

It requires evidence of how and when the recipe was developed.

For Adams, that evidence remains incomplete.

The Third Plot Twist: A Lost Vase

Another episode preserved by Meteyard offers an almost irresistible historical mystery.

According to the story, Josiah Wedgwood presented Adams with a fine jasper vase during his final illness.

The vase was said to have been a work on which the two men had collaborated.

Such a gift, if authenticated, would reveal a relationship founded on professional respect and perhaps genuine friendship.

It might also provide evidence that Adams had worked directly with Wedgwood on ornamental jasperware.

Unfortunately, later researchers were unable to establish the whereabouts of the object.

Its description survives as an account of a gift, not as an independently authenticated artifact available for examination.

That leaves several unanswered questions.

Was the vase an actual collaborative work? Was the story an embellished recollection of a friendship? Did it originate from a surviving family tradition, or from documentary evidence now lost?

The disappearance of the supposed vase is particularly frustrating because it might have helped distinguish between artistic collaboration, technical instruction, and ordinary professional association.

Instead, it remains one of the more tantalizing episodes in the history of Staffordshire pottery.

A Fourth Twist: Rivals Who Cooperated

There is a more securely documented reason to reject an overly simple picture of Adams and Wedgwood as isolated competitors.

In January 1800, the manufacturers involved in the Hendra clay enterprise included William Adams and representatives of the Wedgwood business.

The enterprise sought access to Cornish clay and stone supplies, essential materials for the Staffordshire pottery industry.

Contemporary company records, reproduced in Llewellynn Jewitt's The Ceramic Art of Great Britain, identify Adams among the participants and Thomas Byerley as representing the Wedgwood concern.

This is a concrete commercial association.

Adams and Wedgwood's successors could compete in finished wares while cooperating to obtain raw materials.

Such arrangements were characteristic of an industrial district in which manufacturers shared suppliers, transport networks, skilled labor, and technical problems.

It is therefore difficult to imagine their innovations arising in complete intellectual isolation.

The Staffordshire potters worked within a dense industrial community, where observation and practical knowledge could circulate even among firms competing for the same customers.

That environment makes the choice between wholly independent invention and direct copying potentially misleading.

Adams may have undertaken substantial experimentation of his own while drawing upon knowledge circulating throughout the district.

He might also have known Wedgwood's procedures without reproducing them exactly.

At present, neither possibility can be demonstrated conclusively.

What is clear is that competition did not preclude cooperation.

How History Changed the Reputation of Adams

The evolution of Adams's reputation is almost as interesting as the history of the ceramics themselves.

In nineteenth-century biographical writing, Adams frequently appeared as the gifted follower of Wedgwood.

His craftsmanship was acknowledged, but his originality received relatively little emphasis.

By the early twentieth century, writers such as Hayden were reconsidering this judgment. They distinguished genuine artistic competitors from mere manufacturers of imitation Wedgwood-style wares.

Adams and Turner emerged as major figures of the Georgian ceramic revival.

The reassessment did not require diminishing Wedgwood's importance. Rather, it placed his achievement within a broader community of unusually capable potters.

The Adams family history subsequently challenged the apprenticeship narrative and advanced a more assertive claim: that William Adams had developed his jasperware independently of Wedgwood.

A 1956 account of the Adams pottery similarly maintained that Adams's jasper was an independent discovery.

But these historical interpretations are not equally well supported.

Wedgwood's experimentation is extensively documented. Adams's independent manufacturing achievement is demonstrated by surviving products. The published Byerley letter provides strong evidence concerning his apprenticeship.

The precise origin of Adams's jasper recipe, however, remains less securely documented than any of those matters.

Modern scholarship on industrial innovation also encourages a less exclusive understanding of invention, recognizing the movement of knowledge between closely situated manufacturers.

Rather than viewing Staffordshire history as the accomplishment of a single inventor surrounded by imitators, it may be more accurate to recognize a group of competing craftsmen who advanced the same industry through invention, adaptation, technical experimentation, and artistic achievement.

What This Means for Collectors

For collectors, the distinction has practical consequences.

The finest Adams jasperware deserves attention on its own merits, not merely as an alternative to Wedgwood.

The quality of the modelling, delicacy of the reliefs, proportion of the vessel, color of the body, and originality of the design are all central considerations.

A superior Adams vase should not automatically be regarded as artistically inferior to a less accomplished Wedgwood example.

Attribution nevertheless requires care.

Several Staffordshire potters produced similar ornamental ceramics, and not every piece described as Adams belongs to the original Greengates enterprise.

Other members of the extended Adams family operated separate potteries, while later manufacturers used Adams-related names and marks.

Historical observations about color and surface quality can be useful, but they are not sufficient to establish authorship.

Marks, documented patterns, construction, provenance, and comparison with authenticated museum examples remain essential.

Museum collections preserve important surviving examples of both manufacturers, including eighteenth-century Adams jasperware in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Birmingham Museum of Art.

These objects provide better foundations for comparative study than generalized assumptions about the supposed superiority of one name.

Conclusion: What We Know—and What Remains Unresolved

The rivalry between William Adams and Josiah Wedgwood illustrates both the extraordinary accomplishments of Georgian Staffordshire pottery and the difficulty of reconstructing industrial history from incomplete evidence.

Several conclusions can be stated with confidence.

Wedgwood's priority in developing jasperware is firmly supported. His experiments, manufacturing difficulties, and eventual technical success are documented with a clarity that the history of Adams's ceramic recipes cannot presently match.

William Adams was an accomplished manufacturer and artist of the first rank. His finest jasperwares possessed qualities that respected historians considered comparable to, and in certain respects superior to, Wedgwood's. Artistic parity is a defensible critical assessment, although not a universal ranking of their entire production.

Jasperware did not require a single universally shared formula. Contemporary manufacturers produced bodies with differing characteristics, and historical descriptions of John Turner's compositions establish that important technical differences could exist beneath superficially similar decoration.

The conventional account of Adams's apprenticeship requires reconsideration. A published transcription of correspondence dating from 1800 identifies John Brindley as Adams's apprenticeship master, challenging the later assertion that he formally served under Wedgwood.

Adams and the Wedgwood enterprise were commercially connected. Their participation in the Hendra materials venture demonstrates that competition and cooperation could coexist.

William Adams and Josiah Wedgwood: The Rivalry, the Jasperware, and a Disputed History