I was beginning to get overrun with large antiques — the sort of pieces that take up far too much space in storage and pose a real challenge when it comes to listing, packing, and shipping. After months of trying to manage it all, I decided it was time to make some space.
To start with, I hired a van and took a load to the Malvern Antiques Fair, hoping for a good return and a bit of breathing room in my storage units. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned. Sales were poor, and I drove home wondering if perhaps my items were out of fashion, or if the trade itself had changed — were the traditional dealers simply not there anymore?
On the back of that disappointing fair, I decided to try a different route: the auction. I contacted Nigel Ward & Co. of Pontrilas, Hereford, a company I’d used in the past with decent results. I spoke to a lady in the office and asked if they had any room left in their upcoming antiques sale.
She asked what I was planning to enter, and I listed a few examples — Persian rugs, a full-size hand-carved rocking horse, some paintings, and other decorative items. I was told that it was the final day for vendor drop-offs, but as I couldn’t make it that day, we agreed that I would bring everything in on the Monday morning instead.
The Contract Confirms It
After reviewing my paperwork, I found the original Nigel Ward & Co. vendor entry form that I signed when delivering my items. The heading on the form is absolutely clear:
“Entry Form for the Catalogued Auction of Antique Furniture, Effects and Collectables – to be held on Friday & Saturday 17th & 18th October 2025.”
That means every item I consigned was officially entered under the antiques auction — not the general household clearance sale.
This single document confirms what I had been told verbally and what I had believed throughout: my antiques were meant for the antiques sale. The catalogue and subsequent placement of all my items in the general sale were therefore a direct breach of how the consignment was agreed and documented.
The contract lists several of the key pieces exactly as I handed them over:
“Billy Bones skeleton in bag”
“A full-size carved rocking horse”
“Two petrol station pump covers (Total garage)”
“Carved mahogany arts & crafts bed”
“Art Nouveau cast iron fire insert”
“Five industrial steel stools”
Every one of these fits the description of items appropriate for an antiques or decorative arts sale — certainly not a house-clearance event involving paint tins and dog beds.
This document effectively verifies that the auction house not only mishandled the sale but also misclassified the entire consignment, contrary to the agreed terms on the signed entry form.
With that paperwork in mind, I went ahead and delivered the items as agreed, confident that they were being entered into the correct antiques sale.
Anyway, I arrived at the auction around 9 a.m. and was met by a member of staff who examined my items in the car park. Two pieces — an Arts and Crafts bed and a large African painting — were turned away, with the explanation that they “wouldn’t sell in the antiques auction.” I took those back home, assuming the rest of my items were suitable and would be included in the antiques sale as discussed.
At that point, I had no reason to think anything would go wrong.
Below Are Two Auction Covers I have Been Sent After The Auction.
In the two screenshots above, you will see that the sale to the left was for modern items and bric-a-brac, and the sale on the right on the 18th was actually their sale for antiques. My entry, as you will see below, clearly states that my items were admitted for the antiques sale. which is also double confirmed on my pre-sale report.
While the screenshots clearly show that the general (bric-a-brac) sale was held on Friday, the 17th, and the antiques sale on Saturday, the 18th, I want to make something clear: I wasn’t even aware that a separate bric-a-brac sale existed.
Both the entry form and the pre-sale report referred to the sale as “Antiques & Collectables”, and that’s what I understood it to be.
Add to that the fact that two of my items were refused on the grounds they weren’t suitable for the antiques sale, and that I called on the Friday to confirm whether there was still room in the antiques sale, I reasonably believed that’s where my items were going.
The pre-sale form stated that lots numbered under 1000 would be sold on Friday, and lots numbered over 1000 on Saturday — so to me, that simply read as a two-day antiques sale. I didn’t read that as two separate sales of different categories, and I had no reason to.
It may have been a misunderstanding, but it wasn’t due to carelessness. I only received my pre-sale report hours before the auction began, and was given no indication that my items had been placed into anything other than the advertised “Antiques & Collectables” sale.
Background: The Auction Was Always Part of an Experiment
For full transparency, I want to clarify that the decision to consign items to auction was not made on a whim, nor was this article or the accompanying video published in response to disappointment alone.
In fact, over a month before the auction even took place, I publicly announced in a YouTube video (recorded after attending the Malvern Antiques Fair on 23 September 2025) that I would be running a small experiment. My aim was to test whether:
The antiques market had shifted away from traditional fairs and more toward auctions, or whether my items simply weren’t aligned with current trends.
That video — titled “£1,500 at Malvern Flea Market – Quick Recap & Georgian Glass Haul” — includes a segment where I express concern about falling dealer attendance at Malvern and explain that I would follow up by entering items into auction. I explicitly stated my intention to review the results either way, good or bad.
Why This Matters
This means the resulting video and article were always intended as part of a documented learning process, not a reactionary or malicious attack. Had the sale gone well, I would have reported that too. What I didn’t anticipate was that the auction house’s actions would invalidate the experiment entirely by:
Placing items in the wrong sale type (general clearance rather than antiques),
Using poor titles and missing imagery, and
Limiting the exposure of key pieces.
This severely compromised the validity of any pricing data or market insight I hoped to gain. Not only did I incur significant financial loss, but in my view, the experiment itself was tainted beyond use.
Disclaimer
This article and its related content were produced as part of an ongoing effort to understand current trade dynamics, with full intent to document and publish findings regardless of outcome. All views expressed are based on personal experience, supported by dated documentation and public media posted well before any sale result was known.
Below is a link to the youtube video i created on this process.
The Catalogue Problems Begin
I waited nearly two weeks for the pre-sale advice from the auction house, but it never arrived. By Thursday, 14th October, with the sale scheduled for Friday, 15th October, I still hadn’t received a single update. When the online catalogue was finally released that Thursday, I went through the entire thing manually to find my lots on The Saleroom website.
What I found left me concerned. Most of my lots had no images at all, and the listings were extremely poor — titles were vague, and the description boxes simply repeated the titles word for word. There was no meaningful information, no measurements, and nothing that would attract a serious buyer.
I emailed Nigel Ward & Co. immediately to ask why my items had no images. At that point, I still didn’t think anything was seriously wrong. The catalogue contained a mix of beautiful items — silver, gold, paperweights, and other antiques — so I assumed my pieces were included in the same sale.
It actually took two separate emails before all of my images were finally uploaded. Alongside that, I was sent my pre-sale report — less than 24 hours before the auction was due to start. When I looked through it, I even noticed that one of the lots listed under my name didn’t belong to me, so I contacted them again to correct it. I didn’t want to risk anyone else’s property being sold under my account.
What Went Wrong — A Detailed Breakdown
After carefully reviewing every part of the process, it became clear that a long chain of avoidable mistakes directly affected the results of my sale. Below, I’ve detailed exactly what went wrong — supported by screenshots, sale listings, and hammer prices.
1. My Items Were Placed in the Wrong Sale
I was told my items would be entered into the antiques sale, yet every single lot was instead placed into the general house-clearance sale — the one normally used for low-value household goods and farm clearances.
My antiques were sold alongside buckets of sun cream, tins of paint, plastic dog beds, and other general bric-a-brac. During the auction, I even heard the auctioneer ask, “Did this come from the clearance we did in Ross?” — confirming it was indeed the house-clearance section.
Among the items sold in that setting were:
A hand-carved, full-size, solid pine rocking horse,
Several Persian, Turkish, and Kurdish wool rugs,
A pair of mid-century Grafton swivel chairs,
The Billy Bones Skeletons.
All of which should have been placed among other antiques, not clearance stock.
2. Missing Images and Delayed Uploads
When the online catalogue first went live on The Saleroom, none of my items had images attached. I emailed Nigel Ward & Co. to raise the issue, and although they apologised and claimed there had been a “glitch,” most images were still missing well into the following day.
It took two separate emails to finally get the photos uploaded, and even then, the last of them only appeared less than 24 hours before the auction began. That meant any potential buyers who viewed the catalogue earlier in the week never saw what my items looked like — a huge loss of exposure.
3. Incorrect and Misleading Titles
Several of the titles entered into the catalogue were completely unrelated to what I had submitted.
My petrol station pump covers (automotive memorabilia from a local garage) were entered simply as “two fibreglass covers.” Even the auctioneer on the day didn’t know what they were and said so aloud during the sale. They sold for £1. Had the title included key words such as petrol, gas, station, or automotive, collectors would have picked them up instantly — many have automated keyword alerts on The Saleroom.
My Billy Bones anatomical models — which included almost two complete full-size skeletons — were listed only as “Funny Bones.” They sold for £8.
My hand-carved full-size rocking horse was simply titled “A rocking horse.” No mention of size, material, hand-carving, or condition — and no image until the day before the sale.
These are not small errors. In auction terms, accurate, keyword-rich titles are what connect the right buyers to the right lots.
4. No Proper Descriptions
Across all my listings, there were no true descriptions at all. The text box that should have contained measurements, materials, and details was simply a copy-paste of the lot title — word for word.
For example:
The rocking horse’s description read only “A rocking horse.”
When items lack detail, they don’t appear in keyword searches, and buyers skip them entirely.
5. The Rocking Horse — A Serious Oversight
This was the standout item of the consignment: a hand-carved, solid pine, full-size rocking horse with a proper horsehair mane and saddle stitched directly into the wood.
I purchased it for £150 and had been asking £300 at Malvern — a fair market value based on online comparisons. Yet it was listed only as “A rocking horse”, had no image until the day before the sale, no measurements, and was placed in the wrong (general) sale.
It sold for £120, which sounds acceptable until you factor in seller’s commission (20%), VAT, and other fees — leaving me with around £80. That’s a loss of £70 on the purchase price alone, before even considering time, transport, or effort.
6. Lot Splitting Without Consent
I consigned a Victorian carved mahogany chair and two mahogany magazine racks to be sold together as a single decorative lot.
Instead, they were split into three separate lots — meaning I had to pay three separate listing and photography fees. Not only did this make each piece less appealing on its own, but it also fragmented the set completely.
In the end:
The chair sold for £1,
One magazine rack for £1,
The other for £2. A total of £4 across three lots — against my expected combined sale of around £40–£50.
To make matters worse, the main photo of the chair focused not on the carving or quality of the woodwork but on the lot number tag.
7. Rugs Listed Poorly and Undervalued
I entered three rugs into the sale: two large Persian wool rugs and one smaller Turkish rug.
At Malvern, I had been asking £100 each for the large rugs and £50 for the smaller one — all were clean, handwoven, and in excellent condition.
The auction results:
Large Persian rug: £10
Handmade Kurdish rug: £9
Small Turkish rug: £22
Combined, all three achieved less than £41 — and that’s before deductions.
8. Poor Communication and Delays
I waited nearly two weeks for my pre-sale advice and lot details. Nothing arrived until I chased it.
When I finally received the pre-sale report — less than 24 hours before the auction — it included an item that didn’t even belong to me. I had to flag that to ensure no one else’s property was sold under my account.
By that point, there was no opportunity to request corrections, move lots, or make any other meaningful changes before the auction began.
9. The Overall Result
The outcome was as disappointing as it was predictable. Despite sending good-quality antiques with no reserves — giving the auction house every opportunity to perform well — the sale handling undermined almost every chance of success.
Between incorrect listings, missing images, the wrong sale placement, and rushed preparation, my sale was a disaster.
10. Administrative Errors
The image below clearly demonstrates that an item was incorrectly added to my vendor ID — specifically Lot 20 (“Walking sticks, etc.”), which does not belong to me.
Additionally, the document states that “lots under 1000 will be sold on the Friday” and “lots over 1000 on the Saturday.” However, despite this division, the heading at the top of the form still clearly identifies the event as “October – Antiques and Collectables.”
At no point does it state or suggest that this was a general sale or a clearance/rubbish sale. This mislabelling and administrative inconsistency add to the confusion surrounding how my items were handled and represented.
Auction Results: What Each Item Achieved
After the sale, I gathered screenshots of every lot for my records. Below is the complete list of my consignments, their catalogue listings, final hammer prices, and my notes on how they were handled.
Lot
Catalogue Title
My Item / Description
Hammer Price
Notes
19
Five Industrial Stacking Stools
Set of 5 original steel factory stools, highly collectible in the industrial market
£210
One of the few items that performed as expected — likely buyer interest overcame poor presentation
18
Decorative Cast Iron Fire Surround in Black and Gold, 30¾” x 39″
Antique cast iron fireplace with gilt detail
£9
No descriptive keywords or style indicators (e.g. Victorian/Art Nouveau)
57
“Salters” Thermoscales
Vintage Salter’s trade weighing scale
£6
Wrong category; no detail or restoration mention
117
Two Fibre Glass Covers, 33″ x 30″ x 6″
Petrol station pump covers (Total brand)
£1
Mislabelled — should have included “petrol,” “garage,” “automotive” keywords
668
Border Patterned and Fringed Turkish Rug, 65″ x 46″
Small handwoven Turkish wool rug
£22
Decent return but still below value due to poor listing
669
Handmade Kurdish Wool Rug in Blues, Red, and Pink, 5′ x 102″
Authentic handmade Kurdish rug
£9
Underperformed — no description or imagery until late
670
Border Patterned and Fringed Persian Style Wool Rug, 79″ x 118″
Large Persian wool rug
£10
“Style” wording diminished authenticity and search visibility
706
Wooden Rocking Horse
Full-size hand-carved solid pine rocking horse with horsehair mane and stitched leather saddle
£120
Placed in general sale; minimal details; one day’s visibility
710
Pair of Mid-Century “Grafton WIS” Swivel Chairs
Original Grafton mid-century molded chairs
£28
Listed accurately but lacked keywords like “retro,” “1960s,” or “designer”
711
Contemporary Mahogany Canterbury/Magazine Rack
One of two mahogany racks meant to sell with the Victorian chair
£1
Lot split without consent; poor single-item appeal
731
Canterbury/Magazine Rack on Castors
Victorian carved mahogany magazine rack
£2
Wrong category; main image focused on lot tag
744
Wine Advertising Mirrored Wall Shelf with Coat Hooks, 24″ x 19″ x 5″
Early 20th-century advertising mirror shelf
£32
One of the better results; clear image helped
746
Large Bag of “Funny Bones” Magazines and Educational Skeleton, Body Parts, etc.
Mislabelled and unclear title destroyed collector interest
767
Nice Quality Mahogany Side Chair Having Cream Upholstered Seat and Buttoned Backrest
Victorian carved mahogany chair
£1
Wrong sale section; sold as “clearance furniture”
1575
Large German Mid-Century Ceramic Lamp, Approx.
Large 1960s West German studio pottery lamp
Still unsold (bidding at £12)
The only item placed in the antiques sale; proof correct categorisation draws attention
Estimated Summary of Results as actual figures are not yet known.
Total hammer sales: £459
Less 20% commission & VAT (~24%) = £349.
Net return (approx.): £350 for 15 lots.
Average per lot: £23.
Even including the industrial stools, which sold well, the majority of the antiques — the very items that required specialist handling — were undervalued, misplaced, or misrepresented.
Had they been marketed correctly, in the right sale, with full descriptions and timely photography, in my opinion, the expected total would have been around £800–£1,000 — representing a loss of roughly 40–55% of fair market value.
What These Results Show
This data confirms that the biggest factor in an auction’s success isn’t always the item itself — it’s how the auctioneer presents it. Even valuable, distinctive, or collectible items can fail when they’re listed in the wrong context, described poorly, or buried in a clearance sale.
As a seller, I had no issue with taking a risk — that’s part of auction life. But the results speak clearly: presentation, categorisation, and communication are what determine whether an auction is a fair marketplace or a clearance dump.
Reflection – How an Auction Should Work
Having sold antiques and collectibles for years, I understand that not every auction goes perfectly. Sometimes an item simply doesn’t find its market on the day, and that’s just part of the trade. But there’s a world of difference between a sale that underperforms due to market forces and one that fails because of poor handling and presentation.
At its core, an auction house has three main responsibilities to its vendors: accurate cataloguing, effective marketing, and transparent communication. When you hand over your items — especially antiques, handmade pieces, or one-off decorative objects — you’re trusting the auctioneer to understand what they are, describe them properly, and place them before the right audience. That’s the bare minimum standard.
Photography, for example, isn’t just a courtesy — it’s the lifeblood of modern auctions. Most buyers browse online long before they ever step into a saleroom. If images aren’t uploaded until the last minute (or worse, missing entirely), those lots effectively vanish from search results. They never reach the collectors who might have been interested. The same goes for titles and descriptions: they’re not filler text. A few accurate words — “hand-carved,” “mid-century,” “Persian,” “antique,” or “automotive” — make all the difference in online visibility and buyer engagement.
Equally important is sale placement. A full-size rocking horse, a Persian rug, or a decorative carved chair belongs in an antiques or decorative arts sale, not in a general house clearance. Buyers in the latter aren’t looking for those kinds of pieces — they’re expecting boxes of mixed crockery, bric-a-brac, or end-of-house-move leftovers. When fine or specialist items are dropped into that setting, they’re effectively invisible to their target audience.
Finally, communication is everything. Vendors should receive clear pre-sale advice in good time, with a chance to approve listings or correct mistakes. That’s basic professionalism and courtesy. In my case, the catalogue went live without images, titles were wrong, and the pre-sale advice didn’t arrive until the eve of the auction — leaving me no chance to intervene.
Had these simple standards been followed — correct sale placement, accurate descriptions, clear photographs, and open communication — the outcome could have been completely different. Instead, what should have been a straightforward sale turned into a catalogue of preventable errors.
Moving On and Making It Official
In the end, I’ve accepted the loss as part of the risk that comes with selling at auction. Every dealer or collector knows that sometimes things just don’t go to plan — that’s the nature of the business. I’ve written it off as a bad experience, learned a few hard lessons, and moved on.
That said, I felt the handling of this particular sale raised enough concerns to justify a formal complaint. My intention isn’t to start a dispute, but to document the facts clearly and give Nigel Ward & Co. the opportunity to respond directly.
Below is the letter I sent to them in full.
To:Nigel Ward & Co. Auctioneers
Subject: Formal Complaint Regarding Recent Consignment and Auction Handling
Dear Nigel Ward & Co.,
I am writing to express my deep disappointment with the handling of my recent consignment in your latest sale. I chose to use your services because I had dealt with you previously and expected the same professional standards I had experienced in the past. Unfortunately, this experience has fallen far short of that expectation.
To my shock, I discovered that all of my lots were placed in the general house clearance sale rather than the antiques sale held the following day. Many of my items were genuine antiques and quality decorative pieces. I would like to ask directly: did anyone at your firm genuinely feel that a hand-carved, solid pine full-size rocking horse deserved to be sold alongside a plastic dog bed and buckets of sun cream?
Similarly, do you consider it acceptable that a handmade antique Kurdish wool rug achieved less than £10 in that setting?
I have documented numerous issues that contributed to these poor results:
Missing Images: When the online catalogue first went live, none of my items displayed images. I had to email repeatedly before any appeared — and even then, some were uploaded less than 24 hours before the sale.
Incorrect and Incomplete Titles: Many titles bore no resemblance to those I provided. For instance, the petrol pump covers were entered simply as “two fibreglass covers” — even the auctioneer on the day was unsure what they were. They then sold for £1. If you had added a petrol station, gas pump anything in the title, they would have been picked up by collectors, as people have alerts set up for this kind of thing.
Inadequate Descriptions: My hand-carved rocking horse was listed only as “a rocking horse”, with no measurements, no image until the day before, and placed in the wrong sale entirely. In fact, all descriptions were only a copy-paste of the title, more or less.
Improper Lot Splitting: I consigned a Victorian carved mahogany chair and two magazine racks to be sold together as one attractive lot. Instead, they were divided into three separate lots, resulting in additional listing and photography charges and a weaker presentation, and then you achieved £4 for all three.
Poor Photography: In one instance, instead of photographing the carved detailing on the chair, the image focused on the lot number tag.
Given these errors, the results were inevitably disappointing. I entrusted you with good-quality items and agreed to sell them without reserve, expecting you to present and market them to the best of your ability. Sadly, the catalogue preparation and sale placement suggest the opposite.
I will be publishing a full, factual review of this experience on my social media platforms and website. My intention is not to cause harm, but to ensure transparency so that other potential sellers understand what to expect from your services.
I hope you will take this feedback seriously and review how my items were handled. As things stand, this experience has been profoundly disheartening, and it is safe to say it will be the last time I consign goods with your auction house.
I am actually very interested to hear what you have to say regarding this, and will say that had I realised you weren’t putting my items into the actual antique sale, I would not have left them with you.
Yours sincerely, Walter O’Neill
Final Thoughts – Lessons for Sellers and Buyers
Although this experience was frustrating, it’s also been a valuable reminder of how the auction world really works. Selling through an auction always carries a degree of risk — but as this situation showed, some risks come not from the market but from avoidable human error.
For anyone thinking of selling their antiques or collections, I’d offer this advice based on what I’ve learned:
Always confirm the sale type in writing. Never assume your items will go into the antiques sale — make sure it’s specified clearly.
Request your catalogue proofs early. Don’t wait for a surprise when the listings go live; ask to see titles, descriptions, and photos in advance.
Provide detailed written descriptions yourself. Include dimensions, materials, and keywords. It helps the auction staff and protects your items.
Keep every email. Paper trails matter when things go wrong.
Treat no-reserve sales with caution. They only make sense when the listing and placement are correct.
I’ve taken my loss, learned from it, and moved forward. But I’ll also continue to speak openly about what happened because transparency benefits everyone — sellers, buyers, and even auction houses that genuinely want to improve.
Closing Statement
I don’t expect Nigel Ward & Co. to refund my loss, nor do I harbour resentment. I simply believe that when vendors trust an auctioneer with their property, the very least they deserve is care, competence, and communication.
This review — and the complaint letter I sent — are not about anger. They’re about accountability and honesty in a trade that depends on both.
If my experience helps even one other seller double-check a catalogue before it’s too late, then at least something positive has come from it.
Understanding Auctions – The Costs and Cautions
Whether you’re buying or selling, it’s important to remember that auctions aren’t free. Every hammer price comes with fees attached — and those fees can be substantial.
When you sell, most auction houses charge a vendor’s commission of around 20% plus VAT, and in many cases they’ll also add photography or listing fees per lot, even if the item doesn’t sell. Some include insurance, storage, or catalogue charges on top. So, when you see a hammer price of £100, you’ll typically receive closer to £76–£80 after deductions.
When you buy, the costs are even higher. If you bid online, you can expect to pay around 30% in total buyer’s fees once VAT and platform charges are added. If you attend and bid in person, the buyer’s premium is usually 20% plus VAT, which still adds a significant amount to the hammer price.
I learned the hard way that setting a reserve price isn’t about being greedy — it’s about protecting your items from being given away. Without a reserve, you’re at the mercy of whoever happens to be in the room, and even valuable pieces can sell for pennies if the presentation or sale placement is wrong. I’ll never again assume that an auctioneer will automatically “do their best.” From now on, I’ll make sure every item has a clear, sensible reserve that reflects its fair minimum value.
If you’re planning to bid online, be just as cautious. Always request a condition report and check measurements carefully. A photo can be deceiving — something that looks large in the image might turn out to be small enough to sit on a desk. Likewise, damage or wear is often not mentioned unless you ask.
Auctions can still be exciting, fair, and worthwhile when handled correctly. But this experience taught me that understanding the true costs and taking control of the details yourself are the only ways to ensure a fair result — whether you’re buying or selling.
The Real Lesson in All This
If there’s one thing I’ve taken away from this experience, it’s that selling at auction should never be approached casually. Every small detail — from the wording of a title to the timing of an uploaded photo — can decide whether an item reaches the right buyer or slips through the cracks.
In my case, I trusted that a professional auctioneer would recognise the quality of the pieces and handle them accordingly. That trust turned out to be misplaced. But the lesson isn’t simply “don’t use auctions” — it’s do your due diligence, ask questions, and don’t be afraid to demand standards.
Auctions can still be a wonderful way to move antiques, collectibles, or even entire collections — when handled with care and competence. But like any trade, they rely on reputation, communication, and respect for the items being sold. When those elements fail, everyone loses: the seller, the buyer, and the reputation of the auction house itself.
I hope that by sharing this experience, others will be better prepared — whether that means checking listings carefully, insisting on full descriptions and photographs, or making sure items are in the right sale before the catalogue goes live.
The antiques trade is built on trust, history, and integrity. When those things are upheld, the results can be rewarding for everyone. When they’re not, it’s vital that we speak up and hold people accountable.
For me, this has been a costly but valuable reminder — and one I won’t soon forget.
Supporting Evidence – Screenshots and Catalogue Listings
Below is a complete gallery of screenshots from the original online catalogue and auction results. These images show the titles, listings, and hammer prices exactly as they appeared at the time of sale.
Comments on the YouTube video.
Below are selected public responses from my YouTube video, which show how other sellers and collectors viewed the situation after seeing the full story and supporting evidence.
@lesleyhudson2761: Calls it “shocking” and praises you for being “remarkably calm.”
@TerryOsborne-e4f: “Feel for you mate.”
@taliesinantiques: Calls the auction’s behaviour “completely disrespectful” and “a huge eye opener.”
@ketamineris9924: “Absolutely disgusting how they handled your items.” Expresses caution about ever using auctions.
@mikeand2498: Admits he initially thought you might be at fault but completely changes tone, agreeing it’s a “breach of contract.”
@Colinking2127: Sympathises deeply, says it’s “a sign of the times,” and compliments your “good, informative videos.”
Below is the email correspondence between me and the auction house after my initial complaint.
The Final Outcome
Today, I received a personal phone call from Mr. Nigel Ward of Nigel Ward Auctions. I had hoped for a written response so I could include it here verbatim, but as none was provided, I’ll give you my account of the conversation as accurately as possible.
Mr. Ward began by saying that his team had “accommodated” me — referring to how they accepted my items after the entry deadline. I replied that I had phoned on the Friday (the final day for entries) to ask if there was still space in the antiques sale, and was told yes. I then agreed to deliver everything on Monday morning. When I arrived, two items — an Arts and Crafts bed and an African painting — were rejected because they “weren’t suitable for the antiques sale.” That, to me, confirmed that the rest were accepted for the antiques auction.
I explained that had I been told there was no space in the antiques sale, I would never have left my items there in the first place.
Mr. Ward then focused on what he saw as a success — the £210 achieved for the set of five industrial stools. ( I didn’t say this, but I wish I had! If they brought £210 in a general auction, what could they have brought in the antique sale ? ) I acknowledged that result but pointed out that handmade Kurdish rugs sold for less than £10 each, which highlights a much bigger issue of misplacement, not pricing.
I made it clear this was never about the hammer prices. My complaint is that my items — genuine antiques and decorative pieces — were placed in the wrong sale entirely.
We then argued over that very point. I said to him directly:
“You do house clearances, right? You take all the good items and put them in the antiques auction, and all the actual shit goes in the clearance sale — basically to earn a little money instead of paying to dump it. Do you really think my items belonged in there?”
He avoided the question.
I reminded him that my contract clearly says ‘Antiques and Collectables’ at the top. He tried to defend it by saying the sale title was ‘Antiques, Collectables and Effects.’ So I asked, “Did you put any crap items in the antiques sale then?” — and he couldn’t answer, because of course, he hadn’t.
He then tried to divert the discussion, saying my comment about “buckets of sun cream and a dog bed” was misleading, arguing that those lots were “hundreds apart.” I clarified that I didn’t mean physically next to each other — I meant within the same sale. My antiques were sold in the same clearance auction that included paint tins, plastic dog beds, and general house junk — not among other antiques.
We also discussed the petrol pump covers. Mr. Ward said he “can’t personally check every lot” and relies on staff for that task. He admitted that he even said during the auction they “looked like they came from a petrol pump.” I replied, “If you hadn’t changed my original title, you’d have known exactly what they were before the auction — not guessed during it.”
When I asked him directly if he was proud of how his team handled my consignment, he avoided the question. I asked whether he genuinely believed my items belonged in that sale. His only defence was that “they often sell rugs in that section,” adding that some had made between £25 and £90. I reminded him that rugs also sold in the antiques auction the following day — so why weren’t mine placed there?
He then asked what I wanted — clearly expecting me to quote a figure. I told him plainly,
“Let’s start with some accountability and an apology.” He avoided that too.
The conversation grew tense. He warned me about publishing reviews or videos on social media, saying, “People have been sued for hundreds of thousands,” which I took as a personal threat meant to silence criticism.
Finally, he ended the call with,
“You sound like you’re getting worked up — you’re going to have a heart attack or something,” before adding, “Clearly, you don’t want to deal with us anymore, so we’ll send you a cheque.”
As of 8:31 p.m. on 20th October 2025, I still haven’t received my post-sale advice or payment, so I have no idea what amount I’m even due.
Additional Observation – Handling Standards Raised Again
During the writing of this article, I want to be clear that I did not set out to harm the auction house, but rather to provide an accurate and honest account of my personal experience. My goal is to allow others to make their own informed decisions — and to offer some tips to stay safe, such as double-checking which day your items will be sold and ensuring you use reserves where appropriate.
While browsing Facebook recently, using groups I’ve been a member of for many years, I came across a post in a specialist group that helps with identifying and valuing paperweights — a resource I’ve used countless times in the past.
One particular post immediately stood out to me because it featured two lots I had previously placed bids on — and later withdrawn — from Nigel Ward & Co. The image showed the paperweights stacked together in plastic trays, and the buyer was expressing concern about how their items were handled and presented upon collection. Several group members responded with similar surprise or disappointment.
I include this not as part of my own sale, but because it echoed the same question that has run through my mind while writing this: “Have auction standards here started to slip?” Or perhaps they’ve simply become too busy to maintain the level of care they once offered? Maybe they’ve lost their passion, or simply lost their way.
Either way, for a business that has been around for decades, they should know better than to stack fragile glass paperweights directly on top of one another without protection. They should also know that a Kurdish rug or a rocking horse — the kinds of items typically seen in antique sales — don’t belong in a general sale where they may be overlooked or miscategorised.
The buyer in this case paid £110 for one lot, and £65 for part of the other, plus auction house fees on top — so this was no casual purchase. I don’t know their full total, but I do know that if those items had been handed to me in that condition, I wouldn’t have been satisfied either.
Hopefully, someone at Nigel Ward & Co. takes this as an opportunity to reflect and considers whether some internal standards need to be revisited — both in terms of how items are handled and how they’re categorised for sale. It’s never too late to course-correct, especially when the reputation of a long-standing business is at stake.
While I cannot independently verify whether the items were stacked this way by the auction house or by someone post-sale, the post appears genuine and was shared by an unrelated buyer in a respected public group. I see no reason why someone with no connection to my situation would fabricate such a complaint — and their concern echoed many of the same issues I experienced with presentation and care.
Final Thoughts – Why This Matters
In the end, this article isn’t about bitterness or revenge — it’s about transparency, accountability, and the responsibilities auction houses have to the sellers who trust them. I didn’t write this to damage a business, but to document a genuine experience in detail, using verifiable facts, paperwork, screenshots, and timelines. The mistakes that occurred — from misclassification to poor descriptions and last-minute imagery — weren’t unfortunate one-offs; they were systematic breakdowns in process that had real financial consequences.
Whether it’s a collector consigning a few pieces or a dealer offloading stock, sellers deserve clarity, competence, and respect. Auction houses don’t need to be perfect — but they do need to be professional.
I hope this account encourages more vendors to ask the right questions and auctioneers to revisit how their systems protect both their reputation and their clients. If one person reads this and avoids a similar outcome — or if one auction house takes a moment to tighten its standards — then this has been worth the effort.
