The slightly longer version is as follows.
Three years ago I wrote and published a small book about Charles Paget Wade, a man I came across in my studies of the history of Hampstead Garden Suburb.
Wade worked with Raymond Unwin and Barry Parker to design some of the Suburb’s most significant buildings, including the Great Wall which seperates ‘town’ and ‘country’ where the Suburb meets Hampstead Heath, and the Club House with its great tower, sadly lost to bombing in the Second World War.
Charles Wade’s career as an architect was, however, short lived.
He is now best known for his collection of interesting objects that fill Snowshill Manor, a National Trust property. But as well as collecting items of beauty and great craftsmanship, Wade was himself a highly skilled craftsfman, artist, illustrator and draughtsman.
I was captivated by Wade, and wanted to know more about him. I wrote about him in this blog, and I visited Snowshill Manor, (it’s been far too long since my last visit!), and more recently I wrote about some of Wade’s paintings of my home town of Amersham.
Three years ago, along with the publication of my book, I led a walking tour around Hampstead Garden Suburb in an attempt to cover Charles Paget Wade’s early life as an architect and his work on Hampstead Garden Suburb.
Fast forward to this summer and I was bitten by the bug to refresh my book with a new, expanded edition containing some more details I had come across in the meantime. I was also invited by the Proms at St Jude’s team to do another walk on Wade, and this inevitably led to me finding myself immersed in his life work once more.
There are a few other books about Charles Wade which cover the subject of his restoration of, and the collection held at, Snowshill Manor, but my intention has always been to shed a little bit more light on Wade’s life before Snowshill: touching on his childhood, his education and qualification as an architect, and his life in Hampstead Garden Suburb both professional and social.
In particular, I have always found it so interesting that despite only working on Suburb architecture for four years, he actually lived on the Suburb for more than ten years. And a number of the hobbies he picked up and nurtured while living on the Suburb would serve as an introduction to the magical world he would go on to create at Snowshill.
I had always wanted to expand on the text of my book on Wade, and to slightly alter the format of the paperback, and I am thrilled to have the use of a photograph from the collection of the Hampstead Garden Suburb Archives Trust which I think makes for a great cover image for this new, expanded edition.
In the process of researching this second edition, I visited Gloucestershire Archives again, as well as paying a couple more visits to the London Metropolitan Archives, which meant I was able to breathe some more life into the descriptions of the documents held there and to better decipher the clues they gave me about the man himself.
The staff at both these institutions were very obliging, and I must thank those at Gloucestershire Archives particularly for their assistance in identifying which packs and bundles of documents contained what items. It can be quite nerve-wracking only giving yourself a few hours at an archive to pore over hundreds of documents, but their help and assistance meant I got through everything I hoped to see with no added time pressures.
I’m also grateful to the curators of the RIBA’s Drawing and Archives Collection, and in particular to Lauren Alderton who kindly helped me get access to Wade’s RIBA nomination papers, as well as those of his mentors, which filled in some interesting and crucial biographical gaps about his transition from student to qualified architect.
I should also thank my partner Megan for putting up with me, particularly over the last few months, wittering on about Wade, my walking tour, and this book. It’s nice to have finally finished it.
It was always going to be tricky going in and expanding a ‘finished’ text, in much the same way as a first draft being much easier to bash out than to go back and edit. I had to pick apart my original text and insert new sections and details in a way which, I hope, is seemless to the reader. But I had been itching to add new details which had come to light in my studies of Wade and his career and life, so I knew I would have to scratch that itch and finally produce a new second edition. So that’s what I have done.