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Title: Porcelain

Author: Edward Dillon

Release date: July 15, 2017 [eBook #55118]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORCELAIN ***

Contents.
List of Illustrations
Index

(etext transcriber's note)
P O R C E LA I N

PLATE I. JAPANESE IMARI WARE

P O R C E LA I N
BY

E D W A R D D I L L O N, M.A.

M E T H U E N A N D CO.
36 ESSEX STREET
LONDON

First published in 1904.

PREFACE

H OW extensive is the literature that has grown up of late years round
the subject of porcelain may be judged from the length of our
‘selected’ list of books dealing with this material. Apart from the not
inconsiderable number of general works on the potter’s art in French,
German, and English, there is scarcely to be found a kiln where pottery of
one kind or another has been manufactured which has not been made the
subject of a separate study. And yet, as far as I know, the very definite
subdivision of ceramics, which includes the porcelain of the Far East and of
Europe, has never been made the basis of an independent work in England.
It has been the aim of the writer to dwell more especially on the nature
of the paste, on the glaze, and on the decoration of the various wares, and
above all to accentuate any points that throw light upon the relations with
one another—especially the historical relations—of the different centres
where porcelain has been made. Less attention has been given to the
question of marks. In the author’s opinion, the exaggerated importance that
has been given to these marks, both by collectors and by the writers that
have catered to them, has more than anything else tended to degrade the
study of the subject, and to turn off the attention from more essential points.
This has been above all the case in England, where the technical side has
been strangely neglected. In fact, we must turn to French works for any
thorough information on this head.
In the bibliographical list it has been impossible to distinguish the
relative value of the books included. I think that something of value may be
found in nearly every one of these works, but in many, whatever there is of
original information might be summed up in a few pages. In fact, the books
really essential to the student are few in number. For Oriental china we have
the Franks catalogue, M. Vogt’s little book, La Porcelaine, and above all the
great work of Dr. Bushell, which is unfortunately not very accessible. For
Continental porcelain there is no ‘up-to-date’ work in English, but the brief
notes in the catalogue prepared shortly before his death by Sir A. W. Franks
have the advantage of being absolutely trustworthy. The best account of
German porcelain is perhaps to be found in Dr. Brinckmann’s bulky
description of the Hamburg Museum, which deals, however, with many

subjects besides porcelain, while for Sèvres we have the works of Garnier
and Vogt. For English porcelain the literature is enormous, but there is little
of importance that will not be found in Professor Church’s little handbook,
or in the lately published works of Mr. Burton and Mr. Solon. The last
edition of the guide to the collection lately at Jermyn Street has been well
edited by Mr. Rudler, and contains much information on the technical side
of the subject. On many historical points the notes in the last edition of
Marryat are still invaluable: the quotations, however, require checking, and
the original passages are often very difficult to unearth.
In the course of this book I have touched upon several interesting
problems which it would be impossible to thoroughly discuss in a general
work of this kind. I take, however, the occasion of bringing one or two of
these points to the notice of future investigators.
Much light remains to be thrown upon the relations of the Chinese with
the people of Western Asia during the Middle Ages. We want to know at
what time and under what influences the Chinese began to decorate their
porcelain, first with blue under the glaze, and afterwards by means of glazes
of three or more colours, painted on the biscuit. The relation of this latter
method of decoration to the true enamel-painting which succeeded it is still
obscure. So again, to come to a later time, there is much difference of
opinion as to the date of the first introduction of the rouge d’or, a very
important point in the history and classification of Chinese porcelain.
We are much in the dark as to the source of the porcelain exported both
from China and Japan in the seventeenth century, especially of the roughly
painted ‘blue and white,’ of which such vast quantities went to India and
Persia. So of the Japanese ‘Kakiyemon,’ which had so much influence on
our European wares, what was the origin of the curious design, and what
was the relation of this ware to the now better known ‘Old Japan’?
When we come nearer home, to the European porcelain of the eighteenth
century, many obscure points still remain to be cleared up. The currently
accepted accounts of Böttger’s great discovery present many difficulties. At
Sèvres, why was the use of the newly discovered rose Pompadour so soon
abandoned? And finally, in England, what were we doing during the long
years between the time of the early experiments of Dr. Dwight and the great
outburst of energy in the middle of the eighteenth century?

The illustrations have been chosen for the most part from specimens in
our national collections. I take this opportunity of thanking the officials in
charge of these collections for the facilities they have given to me in the
selection of the examples, and to the photographer in the reproduction of
the pieces selected. To Mr. C. H. Read of the British Museum, and to Mr.
Skinner of the Victoria and Albert Museum, my thanks are above all due. To
the latter gentleman I am much indebted for the trouble he has taken, amid
arduous official duties, in making arrangements for photographing not only
examples belonging to the Museum, scattered as these are through various
wide-lying departments, but also several other pieces of porcelain at present
deposited there by private collectors. To these gentlemen, finally, my thanks
are due for permission to reproduce examples of their porcelain—to Mr.
Pierpont Morgan, to Mr. Fitzhenry, to Mr. David Currie, and above all to
my friend Mr. George Salting, who has interested himself in the selection of
the objects from his unrivalled collection.
The small collection of marks at the end of the book has no claim to
originality. The examples have been selected from the catalogues of the
Schreiber collection at South Kensington, and from those of the Franks
collections of Oriental and Continental china. For permission to use the
blocks my thanks are due, as far as the first two books are concerned, to H.
M.’s Stationery Office and to the Education Department; in the case of the
last work, to Mr. C. H. Read, who, I understand, himself drew the original
marks for Sir A. W. Franks’s catalogue.
In a general work of this kind much important matter has had to be
omitted. That is inevitable. I only hope that specialists in certain definite
parts of the wide field covered will not find that I have committed myself to
rash or ungrounded generalisations. Let them remember that the carefully
guarded statements and the reservations suitable to a scientific paper would
be out of place in a work intended in the main for the general public.
E. D.

CONTENTS
PAGE
Preface v
List of Illustrations xii
Selected List of Works on Porcelain xxvi
Key to the Bibliographical List xxxiii
List of Works on other subjects referred to in the
Text xxxv
Chapter I. Introductory and Scientific 1
Chapter II. The Materials: Mixing, Fashioning, and
Firing 14
Chapter III. Glazes 30
Chapter IV. Decoration by means of Colour 38
Chapter V. The Porcelain of China. Introductory—
Classification—The Sung Dynasty—The Mongol or
Yuan Dynasty 49
Chapter VI. The Porcelain of China (continued). The
Ming Dynasty 78
Chapter VII. The Porcelain of China (continued).
The Manchu or Tsing Dynasty 96
Chapter VIII. The Porcelain of China (continued).
Marks 117
Chapter IX. The Porcelain of China (continued).
King-te-chen and the Père D’Entrecolles 123
Chapter X. The Porcelain of China (continued).
Forms and uses—Descriptions of the various Wares 137
Chapter XI. The Porcelain of Korea and of the Indo-
Chinese Peninsula 168
Chapter XII. The Porcelain of Japan 177
Chapter XIII. From East to West 208
Chapter XIV. The First Attempts at Imitation in
Europe 233

Chapter XV. The Hard-Paste Porcelain of Germany.
Böttger and the Porcelain of Meissen 244
Chapter XVI. The Hard-Paste Porcelain of Germany
(continued). Vienna—Berlin—Höchst—Fürstenberg
—Ludwigsburg—Nymphenburg—Frankenthal—
Fulda—Strassburg. The Hard and Soft Pastes of
Switzerland, Hungary, Holland, Sweden, Denmark,
and Russia 259
Chapter XVII. The Soft-Paste Porcelain of France.
Saint-Cloud—Lille—Chantilly—Mennecy—Paris—
Vincennes—Sèvres 277
Chapter XVIII. The Hard-Paste Porcelain of Sèvres
and Paris 305
Chapter XIX. The Soft and Hybrid Porcelains of
Italy and Spain 316
Chapter XX. English Porcelain. Introduction. The
Soft-Paste Porcelain of Chelsea and Bow 326
Chapter XXI. English Porcelain (continued). The
Soft Paste of Derby, Worcester, Caughley, Coalport,
Swansea, Nantgarw, Lowestoft, Liverpool, Pinxton,
Rockingham, Church Gresley, Spode, and Belleek 350
Chapter XXII. English Porcelain (continued). The
Hard Paste of Plymouth and Bristol 375
Chapter XXIII. Contemporary European Porcelain 387
Explanation of the Marks on the Plates 395
Marks on Porcelain 400
Index: A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P,
Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, Y, Z 405

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
i. Japanese, Imari porcelain (‘Old Japan’).
(H. c. 19 in.) Vase, slaty-blue under glaze,
iron-red of various shades and gold over
glaze. Early eighteenth century. Salting
collection. (Frontispiece.)
ii. Chinese, Ming porcelain. (H. c. 15 in.) Jar
with blue-black ground and thin, skin-like
glaze. Decoration in relief slightly counter-
sunk, pale yellow and greenish to turquoise
blue. Probably fifteenth century. Salting
collection. (To face p. 44.)
iii. (1) Chinese. (H. c. 9 in.) Figure of the
Teaching Buddha. Celadon glaze, the hair
black. Uncertain date. British Museum.

(2) Chinese, probably Ming dynasty. (H.
11¼ in.) Vase with open-work body,
enclosing plain inner vessel. Thick celadon
glaze. Victoria and Albert Museum. (To face p. 64.)
iv. Chinese, Sung porcelain. (H. c. 12 in.)
Small jar with thick pale-blue glaze, and
some patches of copper-red; faintly
crackled. Circa 1200. British Museum. (To face p. 71.)
v. Chinese, Ming porcelain. Three small (To face p. 81.)
bowls with apple-green glaze. Fifteenth or
sixteenth century. British Museum.

(1) Floral design in gold on green ground.
(Diam. 4¾ in.) On base a coin-like mark,
inscribed Chang ming fu kwei—‘long life,
riches, and honour.’

(2) Similar decoration and identical

inscription to above (diam. 4¾ in.), set in a
German silver-gilt mounting of sixteenth
century.

(3) Shallow bowl (diam. 5¼ in.). Inside,
apple-green band with gold pattern similar
to above; in centre, cranes among clouds—
blue under glaze.
vi. Chinese. Ming porcelain. (H. 7¾ ins.)
Spherical vase, floral decoration of Persian
type in blue under glaze; the neck has
probably been removed for conversion into
base of hookah. Probably sixteenth century.
Bought in Persia. Victoria and Albert
Museum. (To face p. 84.)
vii. (1) Chinese. Ming porcelain. (H. c. 18 in.)
Baluster-shaped vase; greyish crackle
ground, painted over the glaze with
turquoise blue flowers (with touches of
cobalt), green leaves and manganese purple
scrolls; a little yellow in places, and around
neck cobalt blue band under glaze. On
base, mark of Cheng-hua, possibly of as
early a date (1464-87). British Museum.

(2) Chinese. Ming porcelain. (H. c. 19 in.)
Vase of square section with four mask
handles, imitating old bronze form.
Enamelled with dragons and phœnixes;
copper-green and iron-red over glaze with
a few touches of yellow, combined with
cobalt blue under glaze. Inscription, under
upper edge, ‘Dai Ming Wan-li nien shi.’
Circa 1600. British Museum. (To face p. 90.)
viii. Chinese. Ming porcelain. Covered inkslab (To face p. 94.)
(L. 9¾ in.), pen-rest (L. 9 in.), and
spherical vessel (H. 8 in.). Decorated with

scroll-work in cobalt blue under the glaze.
Persian inscriptions in cartels, relating to
literary pursuits. Mark of Cheng-te (1505-
21). Obtained in Pekin. British Museum.
ix. Chinese, turquoise ware. Probably early
eighteenth century. Salting collection.

(1) Pear-shaped vase (H. 8½ in.), decorated
with phœnix in low relief. Six-letter mark
of Cheng-hua.

(2) Plate with pierced margin (diam. 11
in.). Filfot in centre encircled by cloud
pattern, in low relief.

(3) Small spherical incense-burner (H. 5
in.). Floral design in low relief. (To face p. 98.)
x. Chinese, famille verte. (H. 18 in.) Vase of
square section, decorated with flowers of
the four seasons. Green, purple, and yellow
enamels and white, as reserve, on a black
ground. Mark of Cheng-hua. Circa 1700.
Salting collection. (To face p. 100.)
xi. Chinese, famille verte. (H. 26 in.) Baluster-
shaped vase, decorated with dragons with
four claws and snake-like bodies amid
clouds. Poor yellow, passing into white,
green of two shades, and manganese purple
upon a black ground. A very thin skin of
glaze, with dullish surface. Probably before
1700. Salting collection. (To face p. 102.)
xii. Chinese, egg-shell porcelain. Famille rose. (To face p. 108.)

(1) Plate (diam. 8¼ in.). On border, vine
with grapes, in gold. In centre, lady on
horseback, accompanied by old man and
boy carrying scrolls. 1730-50. British

Museum.

(2) Plate (diam. 8½ in.) In centre the arms
of the Okeover family with elaborate
mantling. Initials of Luke Okeover and his
wife on margin. Early famille rose, the
rouge d’or only sparingly applied. Circa
1725. British Museum.
xiii. (1) Chinese, famille verte. Long-necked,
globular vase (H. 17 in.), enamelled with
figures of Taoist sages, etc.: green, iron-
red, yellow, purple, and opaque blue, all
over the glaze. Early eighteenth century.
Salting collection.

(2) Chinese. Tall cylindrical vase (H. 18
in.). Red fish among eddies of gold on blue
ground. Early eighteenth century. Salting
collection.

(3) Chinese. Spindle-shaped vase (H. 18
in.). Pure white, chalky ground; three
fabulous animals seated. 1720-40. Salting
collection. (To face p. 110.)
xiv. Japanese. Imari porcelain. Large dish
(diam. 20 in.). Painted under the glaze with
cobalt blue in various shades, relieved with
gold. In centre, landscape with Baptism of
Christ. Below, in panel on margin—Mat. 3
16. Seventeenth century. Victoria and
Albert Museum. (To face p. 133.)
xv. (1) Chinese. Open-work cylinder (H. 5¼ (To face p. 142.)
in.) formed of nine interlacing dragons; the
top pierced with nine holes. Plain white
ware, with greyish white glaze. Probably
Ting ware of Ming period. Victoria and
Albert Museum.

(2) Chinese. Ming porcelain. Water-vessel
for base of hookah (H. 4¾ in.). Cobalt blue
under glaze. Chinese sixteenth century;
made for the Persian market. Victoria and
Albert Museum.
xvi. Chinese. Two vases for flowers (H. 11¼
and 10½ in.). Floral design in white slip
upon a fond laque or ‘dead leaf’ ground.
Seventeenth century. Bought in Persia.
Victoria and Albert Museum. (To face p. 146.)
xvii. Chinese. Three vases, examples of flambé
or ‘transmutation’ glazes. First half
eighteenth century. Salting collection.

(1) Vase with monster handles (H. 9 in.);
glaze irregularly crackled.

(2) Cylindrical vase, made in a mould (H.
10 in.).

(3) Small pear-shaped vase (H. 7½ in.),
mottled red and blue. (To face p. 150.)
xviii. (1) Chinese ‘blue and white.’ Small vase
(H. 7½ in.). The paste pierced before
glazing to form an open-work pattern filled
up by glaze. Eighteenth century. British
Museum.

(2) Chinese ‘blue and white.’ Mortar-
shaped vase (H. 10 in.). Scattered figures
of Taoist sages in pale blue. Chinese,
probably sixteenth century. British
Museum. (To face p. 154.)
xix. Chinese, Ming porcelain. Vase (H. 9½ in.), (To face p. 157.)
shaped into vertical, convex panels. The
top has been ground down. Very thick

paste, showing marks of juncture of
moulds. Decoration of kilins and pine-trees
in exceptionally brilliant cobalt blue under
glaze. Probably fifteenth century. Victoria
and Albert Museum.
xx. Chinese. Globular vase with long neck (H.
17¾ in.). Design built up of lines of iron-
red and gold. Circa 1720. Bought in Persia.
Victoria and Albert Museum. (To face p. 162.)
xxi. Chinese armorial porcelain. Octagonal
plate (diam. 16 in.). Talbot arms in centre
surrounded by design of books, scrolls, etc.
—all in blue under glaze. Early eighteenth
century. British Museum. (To face p. 164.)
xxii. Chinese porcelain from Siam. Three
covered bowls, probably enamelled in
Canton for the Siamese market. Early
nineteenth century. Victoria and Albert
Museum.

(1) Floral design in iron-red, green and
yellow over glaze. (H. 6½ in.)

(2) Buddhist divinities in panels amid
flame-like ground. Opaque enamels—iron-
red, pink, yellow and black. (H. 9 in.)

(3) Floral design in cobalt blue under
glaze. (H. 6¼ in.) Brass rim and foot. Said
to be a cinerary urn. (Tho-khôt.) (To face p. 174.)
xxiii. Japanese, Kakiyemon ware. Circa 1650. (To face p. 184.)
British Museum.

(1) Saucer or plate with scalloped edge
(diam. 9¾ in.). Prunus springing from
straw hedge, Chinese boy and tigers.
Enamels—green, yellow, iron-red and blue,

all over glaze.

(2) Four-sided bottle (H. 8¾ in.). Formally
treated flowers in iron-red, green and blue,
all over glaze.

(3) Octagonal saucer (diam. 5¾ in.).
Decoration of quails and flowers in iron-
red, green and gold over glaze, with cobalt
blue under glaze.
xxiv. (1) Chinese. Covered bowl (H. 8 in.).
Floral rosette with fourteen lobes in
imitation of the Japanese kiku-mon. Iron-
red, green and gold over glaze with deep
cobalt blue under glaze. Early eighteenth
century; made at King-te-chen in imitation
of the contemporary Imari ware. Salting
collection.

(2) Japanese, Imari ware. Bowl with
scalloped edge (diam. 9 in.).
Chrysanthemum flowers in low relief;
iron-red, green and gold over glaze and
cobalt blue under glaze. Circa 1700.
Salting collection. (To face p. 186.)
xxv. Japanese, Imari ware. Large plate (diam. 22
in.). On margin, mandarin ducks, cranes
and doves in panels amid flowers; in
centre, two eagles. Iron-red of various
shades, gold and a few touches of green
over glaze with deep cobalt blue under
glaze. Late seventeenth century. Salting
collection. (To face p. 188.)
xxvi. Japanese, Kutani ware. Jar (H. 13 in.); on a (To face p. 204.)
greyish white, somewhat crackled ground,
grotesque dancing figures; iron-red,
manganese purple, yellow, green, and blue,

all over glaze. Seventeenth century. British
Museum.
xxvii. Japanese. Kutani, kaolinic stoneware.
Octagonal bottle, in shape of double gourd
(H. 12 in.). Thick enamels—green
(predominant), iron-red, purple and blue,
all over glaze. Circa 1700. Victoria and
Albert Museum. (To face p. 206.)
xxviii. Chinese ‘blue and white.’ Two bowls, set in
copper-gilt mounts of English make, circa
1600-1620. From a set of five pieces long
preserved at Burleigh House. Pierpont
Morgan collection.

(1) Shallow bowl (diam. 9 in.), in centre
medallion with phœnix. Mark of Wan-li
(1572-1619).

(2) Bowl, with deer in panels (diam. 10
in.). Circa 1600. (To face p. 222.)
xxix. Medici porcelain. Late sixteenth century.
Victoria and Albert Museum.

(1) Pear-shaped vase (H. 6⅞ in.). Floral
design in cobalt blue, outlined with
manganese black, both under glaze.

(2) Double-necked cruet (H. 6 in.). Design
in pale blue under glaze. On the neck, A
and O, for aceto and oglio. (To face p. 236.)
xxx. Medici porcelain. Plate or shallow bowl
(diam. 7 in.). Floral design in somewhat
Persian style, in cobalt blue under glaze.
On back, the dome of Sta. Maria del fiore
and the letter F. Late sixteenth century.
Fitzhenry collection. (To face p. 238.)

xxxi. Meissen porcelain. Hexagonal vase with
cover (H. 12 in.). Floral design in coloured
enamels of the Kakiyemon style. Mark, the
crossed swords in blue. 1730-50. Franks
collection (Bethnal Green). (To face p. 253.)
xxxii. (1) Meissen porcelain. Plate with wavy
edge (diam. 9 in.). Claret border with gold
sprigs. Humming-bird in centre. Mark, the
crossed swords with dot in blue. 1763-74,
in imitation of Chelsea ware. Victoria and
Albert Museum, ex Bernal collection.

(2) Ludwigsburg porcelain. Plate (diam.
9¼ in.). Scrolls in low relief in white round
margin; scattered flowers in lilac camaïeu.
Mark, double C under crown, for Carl,
Duke of Würtemberg. 1760-70. Victoria
and Albert Museum. (To face p. 266.)
xxxiii. (1) Rouen porcelain. Cup (H. 3¼ in.).
Conventional design, in dark blue under
glaze, in style of seventeenth century. Thin
and very translucent body. Probably before
1700. Fitzhenry collection.

(2) Saint-Cloud porcelain. Ewer with
cover (H. 7¾ in.). Scale pattern in relief.
Celadon glaze of sagy-green tint. Mounted
with thumb-piece and rim of engraved
silver. Circa 1700. Fitzhenry collection.

(3) Saint-Cloud porcelain. Ewer with
cover (H. 5¼ in.). Conventional design, in
blue under glaze, in style of seventeenth
century. Circa 1700. Fitzhenry collection. (To face p. 282.)
xxxiv. Chantilly porcelain. Two cylindrical vases (To face p. 286.)
with covers (H. 7 in.). Rims mounted in
silver (one gilt). Enamelled over the glaze

in the Kakiyemon style-Chinese landscape
and boys playing. Mark, hunting-horn in
red. Circa 1730-40. Fitzhenry collection.
xxxv. (1) Sèvres, white biscuit-ware (H. 6½ in.).
Young girl seated with a sabot in her lap, a
child crouching beside her. Mark, F incised
(perhaps for Falconet or for the year 1758).
Franks collection (Bethnal Green).

(2) Mennecy, white glazed ware. Figure of
bagpiper (H. 9½ in.). Circa 1750. (From an
engraving by J. Dumont le Rom, 1739.)
Franks collection (Bethnal Green). (To face p. 288.)
xxxvi. (1) Vincennes or Early Sèvres porcelain.
Ewer with cover (H. 4¾ in.). Gros bleu
ground with birds and flowers in white
reserves. Mark, double L with three dots, in
blue under glaze. Circa 1750. Victoria and
Albert Museum; Jones collection.

(2) and (3) Sèvres porcelain. Two small
sucriers (H. 3 in.). Gros bleu and green
ground, with birds on branches painted in
white reserves. No mark, but early. Victoria
and Albert Museum; Jones collection. (To face p. 294.)
xxxvii.Sèvres porcelain. Vase (H. 10¾ in.), one of
a pair, decorated with wreaths of flowers
on a white ground. Mark, the letter I, for
1761. Victoria and Albert Museum; Jones
collection. (To face p. 296.)
xxxviii. Sèvres porcelain. Écuelle and saucer
(diam. 5 in. and 7½ in.). Turquoise ground;
panels with pastoral scenes. Mark, the
letter Q for 1768, and ch. for the painter
Chabry. Victoria and Albert Museum;
Jones collection. (To face p. 298.)

xxxix. Sèvres porcelain. Sucrier, saucer and
caddy from Cabaret (H. 4 in., 4¾ in., and 3
in.). Rose carné ground; flowers, etc.,
painted on white reserves. Mark, the letter
H for 1760, and an anchor for the painter
Buteux père. Victoria and Albert Museum;
Jones collection. (To face p. 300.)
xl. Sèvres porcelain. Covered cup (H. 3¾ in.)
and saucer (diam. 5 in.). Jewelled
decoration on white ground. Studs of
opaque white and turquoise and transparent
ruby, connected by foliage of transparent
green lined by gold. 1780-86. No mark.
Currie collection. (To face p. 302.)
xli. (1) and (2) Venetian porcelain. Tall cup
(H. 4⅜ in.) and saucer (diam. 5⅛ in.).
Birds and vines in blue under glaze with
slight gilding. Mark, Vena on cup, the
same in script on saucer. Probably the work
of the Vezzi family (1719-40). Franks
collection (Bethnal Green).

(3) Meissen porcelain. Pot-pourri with
cover (H. 5½ in.). Fluted sides, flowers in
high relief enamelled in colours. Mark,
crossed swords in blue. Circa 1750. From
the Strawberry Hill collection. Franks
collection (Bethnal Green).

(4) Frankenthal porcelain. Ewer and
cover (H. 6⅝ in.). Painted in lilac camaïeu
with landscape (signed—Magnus pi.) Gilt
borders. 1761-78. Mark, C. T. under crown
in blue. Franks collection (Bethnal Green). (To face p. 316.)
xlii. (1) Capo di Monte porcelain. Scent bottle (To face p. 320.)
(H. 3⅞ in.). Child in swaddling-clothes of
blue and lilac. Circa 1750. Victoria and

Albert Museum.

(2) Capo di Monte porcelain. Siren (H. 2⅝
in.), plain white, made for stand of vessel.
Circa 1750. From the Bandinel collection.
Victoria and Albert Museum.

(3) Capo di Monte porcelain. Triton (H. 2⅞
in.). Plaque in low relief, made for
application. Circa 1750. Victoria and
Albert Museum.

(4) Doccia porcelain. Cup with cover (H.
4⅜ in.). Plain white, vine branches in
relief. Victoria and Albert Museum.
xliii. Chelsea porcelain. Saucer (diam. 4½ in.),
sugar-basin (H. 4 in.), and cream-jug (H.
2¾ in.), forming part of an extensive tea
equipage. Claret ground with rich gilding;
pastoral figures in reserve panels. Circa
1760. Victoria and Albert Museum;
Thomson bequest. (To face p. 340.)
xliv. Chelsea porcelain. Two figures of minuet
dancers (H. 11½ in. and 10¾ in.).
Enamelled with winy-red, pale opaque
turquoise, and a little green and iron-red—
the lady’s stays lavender. These figures
seem to have been suggested by the
principal dancers in Watteau’s Fête
Champêtre now at Edinburgh (engraved by
Laurent Carrs, 1734, as Fêtes Venitiennes).
Circa 1760. Victoria and Albert Museum;
Schreiber collection. (To face p. 342.)
xlv. (1) Chelsea porcelain. Plate (diam. 8 in.) (To face p. 346.)
with wavy edge. Enamelled with shades of
iron-red and green, with blue under glaze
and gilding, in imitation of brocaded Imari

ware. 1750-60. Victoria and Albert
Museum.

(2) Bow porcelain. Octagonal plate (diam.
9 in.). In centre, two fighting cocks, in the
Kakiyemon style; the wreaths of flowers
suggested rather by Dresden. Iron-red,
claret, and an opaque, poor blue enamel,
laid on thickly, with gilding. Circa 1760.
Victoria and Albert Museum.
xlvi. Worcester porcelain. Tea-poy (H. 6½ in.),
sugar-basin (H. 4¾ in.), and milk-jug (H. 5
in.) from a tea equipage. Trellis design.
Circa 1780. Victoria and Albert Museum. (To face p. 362.)
xlvii. Water-Colour Drawing (17 in. by 18½
in.), by Thomas Baxter, junior; signed and
dated 1810. The studio of Thomas Baxter,
senior, 1 Gough Square. Porcelain painters
at work. A price-list of Coalport white
china is seen on the wall. Victoria and
Albert Museum. (To face p. 366.)
xlviii. (1) Plymouth porcelain. Market-woman
with flower-basket (H. 10 in.). Plain white,
with lines of dirty brown in folds of
drapery and stand. Circa 1770. Victoria
and Albert Museum; Schreiber collection.

(2) Bristol porcelain. Female figure,
‘Autumn’ (H. 10 in.). Belt with signs of
zodiac. Enamels—green, lilac, iron-red,
and yellowish-green, with gilding. Circa
1775. Victoria and Albert Museum;
Schreiber collection. (To face p. 380.)
xlix. (1) Bristol biscuit-ware. Medallion (max. (To face p. 382.)
diam. of plaque, 6 in.) with head of
Washington in centre, from a contemporary
medal (‘General of the Continental

Armies’). Circa 1778. British Museum.

(2) Bristol porcelain. Ink-stand (H. 7½
in.), in plain white ware, supported by
three griffins. Victoria and Albert Museum.

SELECTED LIST OF WORKS ON PORCELAIN
ALPHABETICAL LIST OF AUTHORS
Alexandra Palace: Catalogue of Collection of English Porcelain and
Pottery on Loan in 1873.
Bachelier et Gouellain: Mémoire Historique sur la Porcelaine de la
France, ré-édité avec préface, par G. G. Paris, 1878.
Barber (E. A.): Pottery and Porcelain in the United States. New York,
1901.
Bemrose (W.): Bow, Chelsea, and Derby Porcelain. London, 1898.
Bertin (Henri): Catalogue and Notice of ‘Cabinet Chinois.’ Paris, 1815.
Bing (M. S.): La Céramique Japonaise (in Gonze’s Art Japonais). Paris,
1883.
Binns (R. W.):—
A Century of Potting in the City of Worcester. Worcester, 1883.
Catalogue of Collection of Porcelain at Royal Porcelain Works. Worcester,
1882.
Brinckmann (J.): Hamburgisches Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe.
Beschreibung des Europäischen Porzellans. Hamburg, 1894.
Brinkley (F.): History of Japanese Ceramics (Chrysanthemum, iii., 1883).
Yokohama.
Brongniart (Alexandre): Traité des Arts Céramiques. 2 vols. and Atlas.
Paris, 1844, 1854, and 1857 (with additions by A. Salvétat).
Brongniart et Riocreux: Sèvres, Musée Céramique. Paris, 1845.
Burton (W.):—
History of English Ceramics. 1902.
The Influence of Material on Design of Pottery. Cantor Lectures, 1897.
Burlington Fine Arts Club:—
English and Continental Porcelain. 1873.
Blue and White Oriental China. 1895.
Coloured Chinese Porcelain. 1896.
Bushell (S. W.):—

Oriental Ceramic Art, illustrated by selections from the Collection of W. T.
Walters. Folio. New York, 1897; Text Edition, 8vo., 1899.
Chinese Porcelain before the present Dynasty. Pekin, 1886.
Chaffers (W.):—
The Ceramic Gallery, with 500 Illustrations. 1872.
Marks and Monograms on Pottery and Porcelain. 9th edition. 1900.
Champfleury: Bibliographie Céramique. Paris, 1881.
Chantilly: La Manufacture de Porcelaine de C. Paris, 1892.
Church (A. H.):—
English Earthenware (South Kensington Art Handbook). 1884.
English Porcelain (South Kensington Art Handbook). 1885 and 1898.
Scientific and Artistic Aspects of Pottery. Cantor Lectures, 1881.
D’Entrecolles (Père): Lettres Édifiantes et Curieuses.
Davillier (J. C.):—
Les Origines de la Porcelaine en Europe. Paris, 1882.
Les Porcelaines de Sèvres et Mme. du Barry. Paris, 1870.
Drake (Sir W.): Notes on Venetian Ceramics. Privately printed, 1868.
Dubreuil: La Porcelaine. Part 42 of Fremy’s Encyclopédie Chimique. Paris,
1885.
Engelhardt (C. A.): J. F. Böttger, Erfinder des Sächsischen Porzellans.
Leipsic, 1837.
Falke (Jacob von): Die K.K. Wiener Porzellan Fabrik. Vienna, 1887.
Franks (Sir A. W.):—
Catalogue of Oriental Pottery and Porcelain. 1878.
Catalogue of Continental Porcelain. 1896.
Japanese Pottery (South Kensington Handbook). 1880.
The Manufacture of Porcelain at Chelsea. Archæological Journal. 1862.
Garnier (Édouard):—
Histoire de la Céramique. Tours, 1882.
The Soft-Paste Porcelain of Sèvres. 50 Plates. 1892.
Copenhagen, Manufacture Royale de Porcelaine (Bulletin de l’Art et de
l’Industrie). Paris, 1894.

Garnier et Gasnault: Musée National, Limoges, Catalogue. 1881.
Gasnault et Garnier: French Pottery (South Kensington Handbook). 1884.
Geological Museum: See Reeks, T.
Gersaint: Catalogue of the Fonspertuis Collection. Paris, 1747.
Ginori (Marchese Carlo): La Manifattura Ginori a Doccia. Florence,
1867.
Gonze (Louis): L’Art Japonais. Paris, 1886.
Gouellain: see Bachelier.
Graesse (J. G. T.): Guide de l’amateur de Porcelaine et de Potterie.
Dresden, 4th edition, 1873.
Grandidier (E.): La Céramique Chinoise. Paris, 1894.
Griggs (W.): Examples of Armorial China. Folio. 1887.
Gulland (W. G.): Chinese Porcelain (notes by T. J. Larkin). 1898 and
1903.
Haslem (John): The Old Derby China Factory. 1876.
Hippisley (Alfred): Ceramic Art in China (Smithsonian Institute).
Washington, 1890.
Hirth (F.): Ancient Chinese Porcelain. Leipsic, 1888.
Hoffmann: Mémoire sur la Céramique du Japon (Appendix to Juliens
work).
Houdoy (Jules): Histoire de la Céramique Lilloise. Paris, 1869.
Jacquemart (A.) et Le Blanc (E.): Histoire de la Porcelaine. Folio;
etchings by Jules Jacquemart. Paris, 1862.
Jacquemart (A.):—
Histoire de la Céramique. Paris, 1873. English translation by Mrs. Palliser.
1873.
Les Merveilles de la Céramique. Paris, 1866-69.
Jaennicke (Friedrich):—
Grundriss der Keramik. Stuttgart, 1878-79.
Die Gesammte Keramische Litteratur. Stuttgart, 1882.
Jewitt (Ll.):—
The Ceramic Art of Great Britain. 1883.
A History of the Coalport Porcelain Works. 1862.

Julien (Stanislas): Histoire et Fabrication de la Porcelaine Chinoise.
Translated from the Chinese. Notes by Salvétat; and memoir on Japanese
Porcelain by Hoffmann. Paris, 1856.
Kolbe (G.): Geschichte der K. Porzellan Manufactur zu Berlin. Berlin,
1863.
Litchfield (Fred.): Pottery and Porcelain. 1900.
Macon (G.): Les Arts dans la Maison de Condé. Paris, 1903.
Marryat (Joseph): History of Pottery and Porcelain. 3rd edition, 1868.
Meteyard (Eliza): Life of Josiah Wedgwood. 1865.
Meyer (A. B.): Lung-chüan yao, oder alter Seladon Porzellan. Berlin,
1889.
Milly (Comte de): L’Art de la Porcelaine. Paris, 1771.
Monkhouse (Cosmo): History and Description of Chinese Porcelain. (Notes
by S. W. Bushell.) 1901.
Nightingale (J. E.): Contributions towards the History of English
Porcelain, from contemporary sources. Salisbury, 1881.
Owen (Hugh): Two Centuries of Ceramic Art at Bristol. 1873.
Paris (Exposition Universelle, 1900): Histoire de l’art de Japon.
Patent Office: Patents relating to Pottery and Porcelain. 1863.
Piot (Eugène): Histoire de la Porcelaine (Cabinet de l’Amateur). Paris,
1863.
Randall (John): A History of Madeley, including Coalport, etc. Madeley,
1880.
Reeks (T.), and Rudler (F. W.): Catalogue of English Pottery in the
Museum of Practical Geology. 1893.
Riaño (Don Juan): Handbook of Spanish Arts (South Kensington). 1879.
Riccio: La Fabbrica della Porcellana in Napoli. Naples, 1878.
Ris-Paquot (O. E.): Dictionnaire des Marques et Monogrammes de
Porcelaines. Paris, 1880 and 1893.
Salvétat (A.): Leçons de Céramique. Paris, 1857.
Sartel (O. du): La Porcelaine de Chine. Paris, 1881.
Schreiber Collection, Catalogue of. 1885.

Seidlitz (W. von): Die Meissner Porzellan Manufactur unter Böttger
(Society of Saxon History, vol. ix.)
Soil, Eugène: Recherches sur les Anciennes Porcelaines de Tournay. Paris,
1883.
Solon (M. L.): History of Old English Porcelain. 1903.
South Kensington Museum:—
List of Books on Pottery and Porcelain in the National Library. 2nd edition,
1885.
Classified Catalogue of Printed Books, Ceramics. 1895.
Stegmann (H.): Die Fürstliche Braunschweigische Porzellan Manufactur
zu Fürstenberg. Brunswick, 1893.
Stråle (G. H.): Rörstrand et Marieberg. Céramiques Suédoises du dix-
huitième Siècle. Stockholm, 1872.
Thiancourt et Davillier: L’Art de Restaurer les Porcelaines. Paris, 1865.
Tiffen (W. F.): A Chronograph of the Bow, Chelsea, and Derby China
Manufactories. Salisbury, 1875.
Turner (W.): The Ceramics of Swansea and Nantgarw. 1897.
Uyeda, Tokunosuke. La Céramique Japonaise. Paris, 1895.
Vernadsky. Molecular Composition of Porcelain. ‘Comptes Rendus,’ 1890,
p. 1377.
Vogt (Georges): La Porcelaine. Paris, 1893.
Wallace Collection (Hertford House): Catalogue of Porcelain, etc. 1902.
Walpole (Horace): Ædes Strawberrianæ: Catalogue of the Strawberry Hill
Collection. Privately printed, 1784.
Wurtz (Henry): Chemistry and Composition of Porcelain and Porcelain
Rocks in Japan. Philadelphia Exhibition Reports, 1877.
Zais (E.): Die Kurmainzische Porzellan-Manufactur zu Höchst. Mainz,
1887.

KEY TO THE BIBLIOGRAPHICAL LIST

ALPHABETICAL LIST OF TOPOGRAPHY AND SUBJECT

America. Barber.
Berlin. Kolbe.
Bibliography. Champfleury, Jaennicke, South Kensington.
Bow. Bemrose, Tiffen.
Bristol. Owen.
Buen Retiro. Riaño.
Capo di Monte. Riccio.
Catalogues. Burlington Fine Arts Club, Bertin, Binns, Franks, Garnier,
Schreiber, Walpole, Wallace.
Chantilly. Chantilly, Gasnault, Macon.
Chelsea. Bemrose, Franks, Tiffen.
China. Burlington Fine Arts Club, Bushell, D’Entrecolles, Franks, Griggs,
Gulland, Grandidier, Hirth, Hippisley, Julien, Meyer, Monkhouse, Du
Sartel.
Coalport. Randall.
Composition and Chemistry. Brongniart, Church, Reeks, Vernadsky.
Continental Porcelain. Brinckmann, Franks, Garnier.
Derby. Bemrose, Haslem, Tiffen.
Doccia. Ginori.
Dresden. See Meissen.
English Porcelain. Alexandra Palace, Burton, Church, Jewitt, Nightingale,
Reeks, Solon.
Fürstenberg. Stegmann.
General. Chaffers, Garnier, Jacquemart, Jaennicke, Litchfield, Marryat,
Piot, Vogt.
Höchst. Zais.
Japan. Brinkley, Bushell, Bing, Franks, Gonze, Hoffmann, Paris
Exhibition, Uyeda, Wurtz.

Korea. Bushell.
Lille. Houdoy.
Manufacture. See Technology.
Marks. Chaffers, Franks, Jaennicke, Ris-Paquot.
Medici. Davillier.
Meissen. Brinckmann, Engelhardt, Grässe, Seidlitz.
Nantgarw. Turner.
Plymouth. Owen.
Repairing. Thiancourt.
Saint-Cloud. Lister, Gasnault.
Saxony. See Meissen.
Sèvres. Bachelier, Davillier, Garnier, Gasnault, Vogt.
Swansea. Turner.
Sweden. Stråle.
Technology. Brongniart, Burton, Bushell, D’Entrecolles, Dubreuil, Julien,
Reeks, Salvétat, Vogt, Wurtz.
Tournay. Soil.
Venice. Davillier, Drake.
Vienna. Falke.
Wedgwood. Meteyard.
Worcester. Binns.

LIST OF WORKS ON OTHER SUBJECTS REFERRED TO IN THE
TEXT
Borlase. Natural History of Cornwall. Oxford, 1758.
Chardin. Voyages en Perse. Amsterdam, 1686.
Davis (Sir John): The Chinese. 1857.
Gertz. Les Produits de la Nature Chinoise et Japonaise. Yokohama.
Hirth (F.):—
China and the Roman Orient. 1855.
Fremde Einflüsse in der Chinesischen Kunst. Leipsic, 1896.
Chinesische Studien. Munich, 1890.
Lister (Dr. Martin): Journey to Paris. London, 1699.
Polo (Marco):—
Le Livre de M. P. Edited by M. G. Pauthier. Paris, 1865.
The Book of Ser M. P. Edited by H. Yule, 1871.
Paléologue: L’Art Chinois. Paris, 1887.
Plot (Dr.): Natural History of Oxfordshire. Oxford, 1677.
Rein (J. J.): Industries of Japan. 1889.
Richthofen (Ferdinand v.): China. Berlin, 1877.
Yule (H.): Cathay and the Way Thither. 1866.

PORCELAIN

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTORY AND SCIENTIFIC

I T is with a comparatively small branch of the art of the potter that we are
concerned in this book. Porcelain or china, in all countries except the one
where it was slowly brought to perfection, has always remained
something of an exotic, and even in China we shall see that it was the
immediate Imperial patronage and the constant demand for the court at
Pekin that brought about the great development of the art under the present
dynasty. In Japan, the first independent country to which the new art spread,
it was under the eye of the greater and smaller feudal lords, often in the
very garden of their palaces, that the kilns were erected, while the ware
produced was reserved for the use of the prince and his household. Both in
China and Japan we shall find the decline of the art to go hand in hand with
the advance of the demand for the Western market, so that by the beginning
of the nineteenth century we lose all interest in the manufacture.
This dependence upon royal or princely support is equally prominent in
the history of the shortlived porcelain factories of Europe. Their success or
failure has generally followed closely upon the greater or less interest taken
in them by the reigning prince, and few of these kilns survived the political
changes of the end of the eighteenth century.
No doubt, within the last twenty years or so a certain revival has come
about both in the Far East and in certain European countries, and that under
totally different conditions from those which prevailed in the eighteenth
century. Here and there, at least, the manufacture of porcelain has come
within the sphere of the new impulses that have brought about such changes
in the ‘Arts and Crafts’ at the end of the nineteenth century.
In its main lines, the history of porcelain is a very simple one. Slowly
developed during the Middle Ages in China, the manufacture became
concentrated at one spot, at King-te-chen, and there reached its highest
development early in the eighteenth century. In Europe, the repeated
attempts to produce a similar ware had about the same time been crowned
with complete success in Saxony; while in England and in France a ware
closely resembling in aspect the Chinese, but softer and more fusible, had

been accepted as an equivalent. Speaking generally, then, we can make
these three statements with regard to the history of porcelain:—
1. That the art had its origin and complete development in China.
2. That it has seldom flourished except under royal or princely
patronage.
3. That porcelain, from the artistic point of view, is essentially a product
of the eighteenth century, and that this statement is true in the main as
regards the country of its origin, though in this latter case we must make a
certain reserve in favour of the earlier wares.
Our subject may seem a simple one compared with some kindred
branches of the industrial arts, such, for example, as the history of glass-
making, or that of cloisonné and other enamels. We come indeed at more
than one time into contact with both these arts, and it is just at these points
that some of our chief difficulties arise. It is in view of such questions as
these, and indeed of many others equally important in the history of
porcelain, that the necessity of a thorough understanding of the technical
and even chemical side of our subject becomes evident. Of course, if in
discussing the different kinds of porcelain we are concerned only with their
merits or demerits as artistic products, we can put aside these practical
questions as ‘beneath the dignity of our argument.’ But such a treatment of
the subject would land us only too surely in vague generalities and in an
arrangement based upon personal caprice. We require, above all at the start,
a firm basis, and this can only be found in a thorough comprehension not
only of the technical processes that are involved in the manufacture of
porcelain, but of the physical and chemical nature of the substance itself.
But first we need some kind of preliminary definition of what is meant
by the word. Porcelain, then, is distinguished from other fictile wares by
possessing in a pre-eminent degree the following qualities: hardness,
difficult fusibility, translucency, and whiteness of body or paste. Any
specimen of ceramic ware that possesses all these qualities may be classed
as porcelain, and from a practical point of view, the more it excels under
these heads, the better specimen of porcelain it is.
These were the qualities by which the porcelain brought from the East in
the seventeenth century was distinguished from any ware made at that time
in Europe. Our ancestors dwelt especially on the practical advantages of the
hard glaze and the elastic compact paste of the new ware, which compared

favourably with the easily scratched surface and the crumbly body of the
earthenware then in general use.
The greater infusibility that accompanies this hardness was not a point of
much importance to them, but they marvelled at the translucency of the
edges, as of some natural stone, and we find absurdly exaggerated accounts
of the transparency both of the original ware and of the imitation that they
claimed to have made. Finally, they noticed that the whiteness of the
surface was not given by an artificial layer more or less closely adhering to
an earthy base, but was the natural colour of the paste to which the thin
layer of transparent glaze merely gave the effect of the polish on ivory or on
marble. What then was this hard, white, translucent substance? What
wonder if from one end of Europe to the other, scheming minds—chemists,
alchemists, physicians, potters, and charlatans—were at work trying to
make something that should resemble it? The history of this long search is a
very interesting one, but it would be impossible to explain its failures, its
partial failures (these last resulting in a compromise—soft-paste porcelain),
and the final success of Böttger, without, as it were, going behind the
scenes, and giving some account of porcelain from a modern, scientific
point of view.
And first let us say that, although when treating of porcelain from the
historical and especially from the æsthetic standpoint (and this after all is
our principal business in this book), it is well to take a wide grasp and
include a whole class of china—I mean the soft-paste ware—which does
not come up to our standard of hardness and infusibility, this is not the case
when we are considering the physical, and especially the chemical, nature
of porcelain. By confining ourselves, for the present, to true hard porcelain,
we have the advantage of dealing with a substance which chemically and
physically may be compared to a definite mineral species. Nay more, we
propose here to confine ourselves to the consideration of the hard pastes
used at the present day in the wares of France and Germany, neglecting for
the present the softer and more irregular porcelain of the Chinese.
First as regards hardness, the surface of the paste of a true porcelain,
when free from glaze, can be scratched by a crystal of quartz, but it is
untouched by the hardest steel. That is to say, it would be classed by the
mineralogist with felspar, and given a hardness of 6 to 6·5 on his scale.[1]

The freshly broken edge shows a white, perfectly uniform substance, a
glassy or vitreous lustre, a finely granular texture, and a fracture conchoidal
to splintery. When struck, a vessel of porcelain gives a clear, bell-like note,
and in this differs from other kinds of pottery. When held against the light it
allows, where the piece is sufficiently thin, a certain amount to pass
through, but even in the thinnest splinters porcelain is never transparent.
If a thin section be made of a piece of porcelain, and this be examined
under the microscope by transmitted light, we see, scattered in a clear, or
nearly clear, paste, a vast number of minute, slender rods, and between
them many minute granules (Church’s English Porcelain, p. 6). These
belonites and spherulites, as they have been called, doubtless reflect the
light which would otherwise pass through the glassy base in which they
float, and the partial reflection and partial transmission of the light may not
be unconnected with the lustrous fracture so characteristic of porcelain.
Their presence points to the fact that we are dealing with a more or less
definite substance, one which may be compared to a natural mineral
species, and not merely with a semi-fused clay, something between
stoneware and glass. Now when we come to treat of the chemical
constitution of porcelain, we shall find that this view is confirmed. This
structure is developed in the paste by the exposure, for a considerable
period of time, to a temperature of from 1300° to 1500° centigrade, a
temperature which is sufficient to reduce all other kinds of pottery, with the
exception of some kinds of stoneware, to a glassy mass. In the case of
porcelain, this great and prolonged heat allows of a complete rearrangement
of the molecules in the softened mass. The process may be compared to that
by which certain minerals and rocks are formed in the depths of the earth.
We see, then, that not only from the standpoint of history, but on the
basis of the physical properties and intimate constitution of the material, we
are able to draw a sharp line between porcelain and other fictile wares. This
distinction is even more definitely shown by a chemical analysis.[2]
We are dealing, as in the case of so large a part of the rocks and minerals
of the earth’s surface, with certain silicates of the alkalis and alkaline earths,
with silicates of alumina above all. All natural clays used for fictile
purposes consist essentially of silicates of various bases, such as alumina,
lime, iron, potash, and soda, more or less intimately combined with water,
and with the addition, generally, of some free silica. If the clay be good in
working quality and colour, the next point the potter has to look to is the

question of its fusibility. It may be said generally that the simpler the
constitution of a silicate, that is the smaller the number of bases that it
contains, the greater will be its resistance to fire. Silicate of alumina is
unaltered at 1500° C., a temperature which may be taken as the maximum
at the command of the potter. The fusing-point is reduced by the addition of
silica, especially if some other bases such as oxide of iron or lime, or again
an alkali, are present even in small quantity. But beyond a certain point the
addition of silica raises the fusing-point, and it is important to note that it is
this excess of silica that renders certain stonewares and fire-clays so
infusible. In the case of porcelain, on the other hand, the resistance to high
temperatures depends more upon the percentage of alumina present, and the
absence or small amount of other bases. Thus in comparing the composition
of different porcelains, we find that it is those that contain the most silica
that are the most fusible, or rather, to speak more accurately, that become
‘porcelainised’ at a lower temperature.[3]
The relation of porcelain to stoneware on the one hand, and to ordinary
pottery on the other, will be made clear by the following figures, which give
the composition of stoneware, Meissen porcelain, and of a red Samian
ware:—
Stoneware. Meissen Porcelain.Samian Ware.
Silica, 80 per cent. 58 per cent. 61 per cent.
Alumina, 12 ” 36 ” 21 ”
Potash and Soda, 5 ” 5 ” 5 ”
Lime and Iron, 3 ” 1 ” 13 ”
The refractory stoneware contains a large excess of silica over the
amount required to combine with the alumina and the ‘other bases.’ In the
easily fusible Roman pottery, the ‘other bases’ nearly equal in amount the
alumina, while the Meissen porcelain not only contains less silica than the
pottery, but the ‘other bases’ only amount to a sixth part of the alumina
present.
But it is not enough for the manufacturer to discover a clay of which the
chemical composition corresponds to that of the type of porcelain which he
proposes to make. The question, as an experiment of Brongniart long ago
proved, is more complicated. Brongniart weighed out the separate
constituents for his porcelain—the silica, the alumina, and the alkalis—and

from them he formed his paste. He found, however, that the paste readily
melted at the heat of the porcelain furnace. The analysis then of any ceramic
product can give us but an imperfect clue to the nature and properties of the
ware. We want to know how the elements are arranged, and this can only be
inferred from a knowledge of the materials employed in the manufacture. I
will illustrate this point by comparing the composition of Meissen porcelain
with that of our Dorsetshire pipe-clay, the most famous of our English
clays, but a material not sufficiently refractory for use in the manufacture of
porcelain. Both substances contain the same amount of alumina—36 per
cent.; in the Poole clay (after removing the water) there is 55 per cent. of
silica and 9 per cent. of ‘other bases,’ against 58 per cent. and 6 per cent.
respectively in the porcelain. The composition, therefore, of the two bodies
is nearly the same: the clay, while it contains more iron-oxide and lime than
the porcelain, is poorer in silica.
True porcelain has indeed never been made from any other materials
than those so long employed by the Chinese and first described by the
missionary, Père D’Entrecolles, nearly two hundred years ago.
The two essential elements in the composition of porcelain are—(a) The
hydrated silicate of alumina, which is provided by the white earthy clay
known as kaolin or china-clay, a substance infusible at the highest
temperature attainable by our furnaces (about 1500° C.); (b) The silicate of
alumina and potash (or more rarely soda), that is to say felspar. But the
felspar is generally associated with some amount of both quartz and mica,
and is itself in a more or less disintegrated condition. This is the substance
known as petuntse or china-stone. It is fusible at the higher temperatures of
the porcelain kiln.
Of those substances the first is an immediate product of the weathering
of the felspar contained in granitic rocks; while the second, the petuntse, is
nothing else than the granite (or allied rock) itself in a more or less
weathered condition.
We see, then, that speaking generally, granite is the source of both the
materials whose intimate mixture in the state of the finest comminution
constitutes the paste of porcelain. It thus happens that it is only in regions of
primitive rocks, far away as a rule from centres of industry and indeed from
the usual sources of the clay used for fictile ware, that the materials
essential for making porcelain are found. By the term granite we mean here

a crystalline rock consisting of felspar, quartz, and mica, and we include in
the term gneiss, which differs only in the arrangement of its constituents.
The many varieties of rock that are named as sources of kaolin and
petuntse, such as pegmatite, graphic granite, or growan-stone, are as a rule
varieties of granite[4] distinguished by containing little or no mica, and
above all by the absence of iron in appreciable quantity. As felspar is also
the sole or at least the principal element in the glaze with which porcelain is
covered, it will be seen that it is the mineral with which we are above all
concerned.
Now, of the three minerals that enter into the constitution of these
granitic rocks (the others are quartz and mica), felspar is the one most easily
acted on by air and water. The carbonic acid which is always present in the
surface-water gradually removes the alkaline constituents in the form of
soluble carbonates, the silicate of alumina which remains takes up and
combines with a certain quantity of water, and in this form it is washed
down into hollows to form the beds of white crumbly clay known as kaolin.
This is, of course, a somewhat general and theoretical statement of what
happens. If we were to examine the actual position and geological relation
to the surrounding rocks of the beds of kaolin in Cornwall and in the south-
west of France, there might be some exceptions to be made and difficulties
to explain. Where, indeed, as in many places in Cornwall, the kaolinisation
has extended to great depth, the decomposition may have been caused by
deep-seated agencies; in such cases the kaolin is often associated with
minerals containing fluorine and boron.[5]
As for the other constituent of porcelain, the petuntse or china-stone, we
have called it a disintegrated granite, and this is the condition in which it is
usually excavated. It corresponds to the French cailloux, the stony or
gravelly material as opposed to the clay. In French works it is not generally
distinguished from felspar, and indeed some varieties of petuntse may
contain little else. However, if pure felspar is used, the second constituent in
granite or in petuntse, I mean quartz, will have to be added to our porcelain
paste in the form of sand or powdered flint. The third constituent of the
china-stone, the mica, is usually neglected: in many cases the mother rock
contains but little, and what there is is eliminated in the washing. Mica is
more fusible than felspar; the white variety, muscovite, is practically free
from iron, and only from granite rocks containing this variety can petuntse
suitable for the manufacture of porcelain be obtained. The importance of

mica as an element of the Chinese petuntse has only recently been
recognised (Vogt, Comptes Rendus, 1890, p. 43). As much as 40 per cent. of
muscovite has been found in samples brought from China. The pegmatite of
the Limoges district, on the other hand, contains only 30 per cent. of this
white mica, and of this only a small portion passes into the paste. We have
here, perhaps, the principal cause of the greater hardness and the higher
softening-point of European compared with Oriental porcelain.
We shall see later on that this softer Chinese paste has many advantages,
especially in its relation to the glaze and the enamels, but for the present we
will continue to take the more ‘severe’ European porcelain as our type.
Let us consider what takes place during the firing of a paste of this latter
description. After all the water, including that in combination in the kaolin,
has been driven off, we have, as the temperature rises, an intimate mixture
of two silicates, one of which, if heated alone, would be unaltered by any
temperature at our command—this is the silicate of alumina derived from
the kaolin; while the other is a fusible silicate of alumina and potash. There
is also present a certain amount of free silica. There is reason to believe that
at a certain point a chemical reaction takes place between these
constituents, accompanied by a local rapid rise of temperature in the
materials, the rise being due to this reaction. As a result there is a
rearrangement of the molecules of the mass, although no complete fusion
takes place. It is now, says M. Vernadsky (Comptes Rendus, 1890, p. 1377)
—we are now following the account of his experiments—that the sub-
crystalline rods—the baculites of which we have already spoken—are
formed. M. Vernadsky claims to have separated these rods from the glassy
base by means of hydrofluoric acid, in which the former were insoluble. He
found them to consist of a very basic silicate of alumina, containing as
much as 70 per cent. of that earth, while the glassy base was chiefly
composed of silica in combination with the potash and with a small quantity
of alumina. In their optical properties the crystals or baculites resemble the
mineral known as sillimanite, a natural silicate of alumina.
This is all that scientific research has so far been able to tell us of the
intimate constitution of porcelain; but as far as it goes, it is evidence in
favour of our claim that we are dealing with a definite substance, sui
generis, and not merely with a casual mixture of certain superior kinds of
clay, something, as we have said, between glass and stoneware.

There are certain other elements that enter at times into the composition
of porcelain—magnesia, which may have been added to the paste in the
form either of steatite or magnesite; and lime, derived either from gypsum
or chalk. These additions generally tend to increase the fusibility of the
paste, especially when accompanied by an additional dose of silica; but as
their presence is not essential we are not concerned with these substances
here.
The glazes used for porcelain are as a rule distinguished by their
comparative infusibility and by their containing no lead. The composition
of these glazes follows more or less that of the paste that they cover, with
such modifications, however, as to allow of a somewhat lower fusing-point:
as in the case of the paste, there is a harder and more refractory, and a softer
and more fusible, type. The harder glazes are composed essentially of
felspar, with the addition in most cases of silica, kaolin, and powdered
fragments of porcelain. At Sèvres, a natural rock, pegmatite, consisting
chiefly of felspar, has been melted to form a glaze without further addition.
Of late years, however, the introduction of a milder type of porcelain has
necessitated the use of a more fusible glaze, containing a considerable
quantity of lime, and it is a glaze of this latter type that has with few
exceptions found favour in other districts where porcelain is made.
We have attempted in this chapter to give some idea of the nature of
porcelain from a physical and chemical point of view, and in doing so have
taken as our type the hard, refractory paste of Europe. When we come to
describe the porcelain of the Chinese, we shall notice some important
divergences from this type. We say nothing here of the soft-paste
porcelains, seeing that so long as we confine ourselves to the question of
chemical composition and physical properties, they lie entirely outside our
definitions. It is only from the point of view of its history and of its artistic
qualities that this group has any claim to the name of porcelain.

C H A P T E R II

THE MATERIALS: MIXING, FASHIONING, AND FIRING

I T would be quite foreign to the scope and object of this book to attempt
to describe in any detail the different processes that come into play in the
manufacture of a piece of porcelain. There is the less cause for any such
detailed treatment, inasmuch as the operations involved in the preparation
of the paste and in the subsequent potting and firing do not essentially differ
in the case of porcelain from those employed in the manufacture of other
classes of pottery. The differences are rather those of degree—greater care
is necessary in the selection of the materials, and these materials must be
more finely ground and more intimately mixed. Again, the great heat
required in the kilns necessitates, in the firing of porcelain, many
precautions that are not called for in the case of earthenware or fayence.
Without, however, some slight acquaintance with the processes of the
manufacture, it would be impossible to avoid an amateurish and somewhat
‘anecdotal’ treatment of our subject. There are, indeed, many intimate
features, many delicate shades of difference that distinguish the wares of
various times and places, both in Europe and in the East, which can only be
rationally explained by reference to the details of the manufacture.
At the present day there is only one district in Europe where true
porcelain is manufactured on a large scale. This district lies on the western
and south-western border of the central granitic plateau of France,
especially in the Limousin and in Berry. Again at Sèvres, for the last
hundred years and more, a succession of able chemists has carried on a
series of experiments on the composition and preparation of porcelain. It is
no wonder, then, if we find that the literature concerned with these practical
departments is almost entirely French. One result of this is a greater
richness in technical terms than with us. We find in France names for the
various implements and processes of the potter’s art, that are something
better than the workshop terms of the local potter. Again, the little that has
been written in England upon the technology of pottery has been concerned
chiefly with earthenware of Staffordshire.[6]

As for the English soft-paste porcelain of the eighteenth century, there is
a remarkable dearth of information both as to its composition and as to its
manufacture. We know in fact in much greater detail how the great potteries
at King-te-chen were carried on at the same period, thanks to the letters of
the Père D’Entrecolles, and to the information collected in Dr. Bushell’s
great work, Oriental Ceramic Art (New York, 1899. I shall always quote
from the text edition).
The following technical notes are based chiefly on the processes in use
either at Sèvres or in the great factories of the Limoges district.[7] To begin
with the Kaolin, the ‘premier’ element in the composition of porcelain. The
greatest care is taken to procure a pure white clay which should approach as
near as possible to the more or less theoretical mineral kaolinite, i.e. to a
hydrous silicate of alumina. With this object the rough china-clay brought
from the pit is thrown into a large tank of water and broken up with wooden
spades; the milky liquid is now decanted into a second tank, leaving behind
most of the quartz and the other stony particles. On its way the soup-like
liquid passes through the meshes of a sieve—these may be formed either of
brass wire or sometimes of finely woven silk. On this sieve all but the finest
particles are retained. The greater part of the kaolin is deposited in this
second tank, but a certain portion still remains suspended in the liquid,
which is again decanted; the remaining kaolin then settles down in the third
tank, yielding the finest clay. To dry this slimy mass, it is first forced by
hydraulic pumps into canvas bags, and these bags are then pressed between
fluted wooden trays, strongly clamped together. We have now got a white
chalky mass which may contain as much as 98 per cent. of the hydrated
silicate of alumina.
The other materials, the china-stone[8] and the quartz, have first to be
reduced to the finest powder. To effect this they may, to begin with, be
roasted to effect disintegration, then crushed in a stone-breaking machine,
and finally passed through the grinding-pan in which they are ground fine
between large blocks of chert which rotate upon a pavement of the same
stone. The finely ground materials have now to be mixed in suitable
proportions either by the old process of ‘slop-blending,’ where the different
‘slops,’ each of known specific gravity, are run in due proportion into the
big ‘blending ark,’ or, as is now usual in the case of fine wares, by weighing
out the materials in a dry state. On the relative amounts of the three
elements, the china-clay, the china-stone, and the quartz, the nature of the

porcelain after firing will depend. M. Vogt (La Porcelaine, Paris, 1893)
gives a useful table showing the limits within which the materials may be
varied. We may note that in the case of a normal china-stone or petuntse
being used instead of felspar, very little additional quartz is required. These
limits are: kaolin, 35 to 65 per cent.; felspar, 20 to 40 per cent.; and quartz,
15 to 25 per cent. The larger the percentage of the first material, the harder
and more refractory will be the resultant porcelain.
This question of the composition of the paste has been the subject of
many experiments lately at Sèvres. A somewhat animated discussion has
raged around it. M. Vogt, who is the director of the technical department in
the National Porcelain Works, is well qualified to speak on the subject. We
shall not hesitate then to avail ourselves of the conclusions which he arrives
at, the more so as they put tersely some important points of which we shall
see the importance later on. I refer especially to the relations of the glazes
and the coloured decorations to the subjacent paste.
These are, then, the results that M. Vogt arrives at:—
The two extreme types of porcelain, one with 65 per cent. of kaolin and
the other with only 35 per cent., when taken from the kiln do not differ in
appearance, though one has been subject to a temperature of 1500° C. to
ensure vitrification and the other to only 1350° C. Their physical properties,
however, are very different. The first, rich in alumina derived from the
excess of kaolin, stands without injury variations of temperature, it suits
well with a glaze made from felspar, a glaze hard enough to resist the point
of a knife. These are excellent qualities for domestic use, but such porcelain
does not lend itself well to artistic decoration. At the high temperature
required in this case in the firing, the colours of the paste and of the glazes
assume dull and tame hues, so as to offer little resource to the artist. In a
word, in that part of the decoration that has to be subjected to the full heat
of the kiln, the artist has command only of a restricted and relatively dull
palette. Again, in the decoration of the muffle-stove the vitrifiable enamels
do not become incorporated with the glaze on which they rest. If a
decoration in opaque or translucent enamels is attempted, these enamels are
apt to split off, carrying with them a part of the glaze. To sum up: the
porcelain of which the hard paste of Sèvres, introduced by Brogniart, may
be regarded as a type, though excellent for domestic use, is incapable of
receiving a brilliant decoration.

Porcelain of the second type, more silicious and less aluminous, is fired
at a lower temperature. In order to get a glaze sufficiently fusible to melt at
such a temperature to a fine uniform surface, it is necessary to introduce a
certain amount of lime into its composition; by this the glaze is rendered at
the same time a little softer. But now the lower temperature of the fire will
allow of a greater variety and greater brilliancy in the colours either
combined with or used under the glaze. When we come to the muffle-fire
we can employ enamels of the widest range of colour, yielding a brilliant
decoration. On the other hand, this type of porcelain offers less resistance
than the other to the action of hard bodies and to rapid changes of
temperature—enough resistance, however, so M. Vogt thinks, for all
ordinary usages. It is to this type that the porcelain of China, and Japan, as
well as the ‘new porcelain’ of Sèvres belongs. The latter comes nearer to the
porcelain of the East than any other European ware. Finally, M. Vogt points
out that most of the other European porcelains, those made in the Limoges
district, in Germany and in Denmark, are of an intermediate type, and that
they allow the use of either a felspathic or of a calcareous glaze (Vogt, La
Porcelaine, pp. 144 seq.).[9]
To return to our raw materials, which we may now suppose to be
weighed out in a dry state in the required proportions. These are once more
thoroughly mixed with water to form the slip or barbotine, which is again
passed through a fine sieve. To remove any particles of iron which may
have come from the machinery or elsewhere, and which if allowed to
remain would form unsightly stains on the finished ware, it is usual to pass
the slip at this stage through a vessel in which a number of horse-shoe
magnets are suspended. In some of the large French factories a more
complicated machine is used for this purpose. The superfluous water has
now to be removed either by evaporation or by pressure between canvas
bags in the manner described above. The paste may then be passed through
a pug-mill to render it uniform in consistency.
A curious question arises with regard to the prepared clay. There was
formerly a widespread idea, which may contain an element of truth, that
instead of handing the clay at once to the potter, it should be kept, under
certain conditions, for a long space of time that it may undergo a process of
‘aging’ and fermentation. By the ‘aging,’ the working qualities, especially
of a ‘short’ or non-plastic paste (such as that in use at Sèvres in the
eighteenth century, in making the pâte tendre), were doubtless increased,

the more so when the clay was at intervals subjected to fresh kneading and
watering. With regard to the long periods for which the clay was kept by the
Chinese, the most exaggerated statements were formerly made. Mr. William
Burton is of opinion that there may be in some cases an evolution of
carbonic acid and sulphuretted hydrogen when natural plastic clays are
used, for these may contain both vegetable remains and small quantities of
iron pyrites. But the change, he thinks, is chiefly a physical one, due to the
settling down of the mass. Might there not also, I would suggest, be a
change of a more intimate nature, due to the formation of gelatinous silica
and perhaps also of fresh alkaline or other silicates, among these minutely
comminuted particles of various materials now freshly brought together?
We know very little of the conditions that give to natural clays their peculiar
unctuous quality and their plasticity.
We come now to what has been called the ‘shaping’ of the clay, using
that word as an equivalent to the French façonnage to include all the
processes, throwing on the wheel, turning of the lathe, ‘pressing’ and
‘casting,’ by which the desired form is given to the vessel.
The Potter’s Wheel, perhaps the most ancient of all mechanical
contrivances, is still largely used in the shaping of porcelain, and that, too,
in a simple form which differs little from that employed three or four
thousand years ago in Egypt,[10] and perhaps for nearly as long a period in
China. From an æsthetic standpoint, the wheel holds the same relation to
the art of the potter as the brush does to that of the painter. It is perhaps a
just cause of reproach against that branch of the ceramic art with which we
are now concerned, that so comparatively little use is made of the potter’s
wheel. Not only in Europe, but for long ages in China also, the use of the
wheel, for many classes of vessels, has been replaced by various processes
of moulding. With us, but not in the East, a third process, that of ‘casting’
with liquid slip, is largely used. But when made either by casting or
moulding, the hand of the potter is not seen in the shape of the finished
vessel. By means of the wheel alone do we get the full expression of the
peculiar qualities of a plastic material. This was recognised by the Greeks,
when the potter who made the vase signed his name by the side of the
painter who decorated it. This it is that gives a certain charm to the roughest
earthenware which we may look for in vain in the most elaborately
decorated specimen of either Chinese or European porcelain.

The clay as it comes from the filter-presses or from the drying-beds is
subjected to a series of kneading processes to ensure uniformity of texture.
The last of these is the ‘slapping,’ when the clay is made up into hollow
balls, and thrown vigorously on to a board until all bubbles and
irregularities of texture are removed.
The thrower’s wheel is essentially a revolving vertical spindle, with a
small round table at the top, beside which the thrower sits. The clay is
handed to him in balls, and he throws it upon the whirling table between his
knees. The table is put into motion either directly by the pressure of the
workman’s foot on a lower table, or by some arrangement of straps and
pedals. If the movement is given by the potter himself, as is still the case at
Sèvres, and to some extent in China, there is the advantage that a more
delicate and intimate control of the speed is possible. The movement of the
clay under the potter’s hand is instinctively regulated by him. Every one has
seen and marvelled at the wonderful process. The clay is first drawn up into
a pillar, and then depressed into a flat cake, so that the circular arrangement
of the particles may spread through the whole mass. The thrower then opens
the hollow of the vessel with his thumbs, and proceeds to give it the desired
shape, moistening his hands at intervals by dipping them into the slip. Small
pieces are shaped between the thumb and first finger, either of one or of
both hands. For larger pieces the whole hand and wrist is called into play,
with the assistance, it may be, of a sponge. Still larger vessels are built up
by piling on to the circular edge as it revolves strips of the clay. Delicacy of
hand is of the greatest importance—the pressure applied and the
movements of the fingers must be regulated by the nature of the clay, and
especially by its greater or lesser plasticity. It is essential that the workman
should not only press evenly and steadily on the clay as it rises, but that the
speed of the rotation should have a definite relation to the rate at which he
raises his hands. With a ‘fat’ or unctuous clay especially any irregularity of
pressure will betray itself, and the marks will be more prominent after
firing. This is the origin of the spiral ridges that we often see on the surface
not only of common earthenware, but sometimes of high-class porcelain. To
this cause are due the rings so characteristic of Plymouth porcelain; this
‘wreathing’ or ‘vissage’ is sometimes seen on Chinese porcelain also.
When the thrower has finished his vessel, it is cut off from the table by a
piece of thread or by a brass wire, and taken to the stoveroom to dry and
harden. When sufficiently dry the vessel is placed on a lathe, and the turner

shaves off all superfluous clay. The finer mouldings (using the word here in
its architectural sense) may also be given at this stage, and sometimes the
surface is shaped by a ‘profile’ of steel (it may be a piece from the blade of
an old saw), which cuts the surface down to the desired shape. The shavings
are carefully preserved and returned to the slip-house, to be blended with
the new clay, the working qualities of which are thereby improved.
There are certain parts, especially handles, spouts, and projecting
ornaments, which must in all cases be separately moulded. The foot also, in
the case of large vases, is separately prepared and subsequently attached.
These parts are made in plaster moulds by the ‘handler,’ whose duty it now
is to fix them to the vase. Carefully marking the exact place, he spreads on
it a thin layer of slip with a spatula, and then presses home the handle or
other appendage. Should, however, the two surfaces be dry and absorbent, it
may be necessary to add some gum to the slip thus employed. A similar
process, but one requiring greater care and skill, is that of fixing together
the separate pieces of large vases and figures. This is done in the way we
have already described in the case of the handles and spouts—that is by
applying a coating of slip to the parts to be joined.
It is at this stage that any decorations in relief that may be required are
applied to the surface. These are often made in flat moulds, and to fix them
it is enough to run a little water from a camel’s hair pencil behind the
ornament after adjusting it to its proper place. These processes of fitting on
of appendages and ornaments are included by the French under the term
garniture.
Moulding and Pressing.—It is evident that only vessels of a cylindrical
or conical form, or, more exactly, such as have a circular section when
divided horizontally, can be formed on the wheel. To produce any other
form, the vessel must be either shaped directly by the hand or made in some
kind of mould. The use of moulds for pottery is as old, if not older than that
of the wheel. It was in this way that the Ushabti figures of the old Egyptians
were made, and many of these date back to the Early Empire. So in China,
the further back we go, the more the use of moulds seems to have prevailed.
I take from the excellent article on the manufacture of pottery in the Penny
Cyclopædia the following account of the process in use in England at the
beginning of the last century:—

‘The mould is made in two parts, and each is separately filled by laying
in a cake of clay which has been beaten out to the proper thickness on a wet
plaster-block; it is pressed into the mould by repeated blows from a ball of
wet sponge, then squeezed into all the angular parts and smoothed with
sponge, wet leather, and horn. When both sides of the moulds are thus lined
with clay, they are joined together, and the man lays a roll of clay along the
inside of the joining, which he works down until the whole is smooth and
solid.’ The mould is then carried into a stoveroom, and the plaster here
absorbs the moisture so as to release the clay. The contents are carefully
taken out, and the empty mould returned to the stove previous to being
filled again. The seam that remains on the outside of vessels after fitting the
two parts together[11] is removed by scraping and burnishing with wet horn;
the handles and other appendages are then attached.
This is the process that is called ‘hollow-ware pressing’ or ‘squeezing.’
In ‘flat-ware pressing’ the mould is used to give the shape to the inside of
the vessel only. The mould is placed on the extremity of the ‘whirler,’ a
vertical revolving spindle provided with a circular table, similar to that of
the thrower’s wheel. The plate-maker takes a cake of clay, which he has
previously flattened out with his ‘batter,’ places it on the mould, and presses
down with his hand. The upper surface of the cake of clay (what will
ultimately be the bottom of the plate) is now shaped by an earthenware
‘profile.’ The mould is now taken off the whirler and at once replaced by
another. Flat-ware, especially when greater finish is required, is also made
in a double mould, and the clay may then be first thrown on the wheel so as
to approximate to the shape required before being placed in the mould.
Processes very similar to the hollow and flat-ware pressing are largely
used by the Chinese. Dr. Bushell has unearthed a passage from a technical
work, written in the time of the Chou dynasty, more than two thousand
years ago, in which a distinction is made between the ordinary potters who
worked with the wheel, and the moulders who made oblong bowls and
sacrificial dishes. In a somewhat later work (19-90 A.D.) the writer notes
both the advantage resulting from regularity of size, and the obstacles
arising from the shrinkage of the parts in firing, when vessels are made in
moulds.[12]
Casting.—There is yet another process which is largely resorted to in
European works, but which appears to be unknown to the Chinese. It
depends upon the rapidity with which dry plaster of Paris will absorb the

water from a slip of creamy consistency, without allowing any of the solid
particles to pass along with the water absorbed. The slip-mixture is poured
into the plaster mould, which at once absorbs the water, leaving a uniform
deposit upon the surface of the mould. After pouring or otherwise drawing
off the water, a second and thicker slip may be added so as to form a second
layer. The paste of the porcelain so prepared is likely to be of a lighter and
more porous consistency than when made by throwing or pressing. This
process was used in the eighteenth century at Derby, and doubtless
elsewhere, and it was preferred to moulding for making statuettes. Some
account of it is given by Haslem, a good practical authority, in his Old
Derby China. For small objects, ‘casting’ has long been employed in
France, and more lately Ebelmen and Regnault have so improved the
process, that vessels of all shapes and dimensions are made by it. This has
been rendered possible by the introduction of compressed air into the
interior of the vessel, by which means the paste is kept in position until it is
sufficiently dry to support itself. A still better way of doing this is to exhaust
the air on the outside, by placing the mould in an air-pump; the upper part
can then be left open, and the whole operation is under the eye of the
workman. M. Vogt (La Porcelaine, pp. 157 seq.) laments that in France the
increased use of these mechanical processes had so reduced the demand for
skilful potters, that the race is nearly extinct.
Firing and Furnaces.—So far in our treatment of the operations
involved in the manufacture of porcelain, the same general description has
been applicable, with trifling exceptions, to the processes in use both in
Europe and in the far East, and to soft as well as to hard paste. But now that
we have to describe the firing of the ware, a division into three classes is
necessary:—
1st. The Chinese system. This is the simplest plan. The glaze is applied
at once to the air-dried ware, which is then subjected to but one firing—that
of the ‘grand feu.’
2nd. The French system for hard paste. The unglazed vessel is exposed
to a heat varying from dull to full red, generally in the dome over the main
body of the furnace. It is then glazed, and again fired to the full point
required by the paste. This is essentially a French process, and the
preliminary fire is known as the feu dégourdi.

3rd. The English system used for bone pastes. In this case it is the first
firing that is the most severe. The ‘biscuit oven,’ therefore, in which this is
effected, must not be confused with the feu dégourdi just mentioned. After
dipping, the ware is heated again in the ‘glozing’ or glazing oven, but only
to a temperature sufficient to melt the glaze.
In the case of ware decorated with enamel colours over the glaze, there
will be required in all these cases one or more additional firings at
comparatively low temperatures in the muffle-stove.
The furnaces, ovens, or kilns in which porcelain is fired are always of
the reverberatory type; that is to say, the fuel is burned in a separate
chamber or fireplace, and the products of combustion pass over or among
the ware that is being fired. Such furnaces differ on the one hand from the
arrangement in a blast furnace, or that often used in the burning of bricks,
where the fuel is mixed with the material to be heated, and on the other
hand from the muffle-stove, where the object exposed to the heat is
protected from the direct flame by the box of fireclay or iron in which it is
placed.
Kilns of many shapes and sizes have been used for firing porcelain, but
they may most of them be included in one or the other of the following
broad classes.
1st. The old bee-hive ovens of China, the use of which appears to have
been abandoned in that country by the end of the seventeenth century.
These ovens were generally small, in some cases only holding one vase. A
row of them may be heated from one fireplace, and they are then built on a
rising slope. This type has survived to the present day in Japan.
2nd. The oblong horizontal furnaces, often of considerable dimensions,
used during the present dynasty in China. They resemble in section the
ordinary type of reverberatory furnace found in metallurgical works. A very
similar form was long employed at Meissen.
3rd. The large conical furnaces, now in general use in the porcelain
factories of Europe. They may be heated by either direct or by reversed
flame.[13]
In China the fuel is generally pinewood, in billets of uniform size. In
many European kilns wood is still used: birchwood, cut in lengths of fifteen
to twenty inches, is the only fuel used at the present day at Sèvres. In

England, however, the difficulties attendant on the use of coal appear to
have been overcome.
The reader will find in the third volume of Brongniart’s great work
(Traité des Arts Céramiques, Paris, 1877) several plates giving plans and
sections of all these types of furnaces. From a careful examination of these
engravings more is to be learned than from any amount of verbal
description. A thorough grasp of the process of firing is of the greatest
assistance in understanding the problems and difficulties that arise in the
manufacture of porcelain, and we shall have to return to the subject when
we come to treat of the several wares.
Whatever differences there may be in the shape of the furnaces, when it
comes to filling the interior with the ware to be baked, there is one
precaution which has been adopted in nearly every country.[14] The ware
must be protected from the direct heat of the flame by means of a case of
fireclay in which it is placed. These are the seggars (French cassettes; the
process of filling and arranging them is called encastage), to the preparation
of which so important a department has to be set apart in all porcelain
works, and whose manufacture adds so much to the working expenses.
The seggar proper is a cylindrical pan of fireclay, in shape and size like a
hatbox. They are piled, in the furnace, one over the other, and these piles or
‘bungs’ are arranged in the furnace so as to allow a free circulation of the
hot gases between them, but otherwise they are packed as closely together
as possible. These seggars may be used several times over. When broken,
the fragments are ground up and mixed with fresh fireclay or argile-
plastique to form new cases—without this addition the clay would be too
plastic or ‘fat’ for the purpose. The greatest precautions are taken in the
packing of the seggars in the furnace. The giving way of one pile from any
inaccuracy in the arrangement may destroy the contents of the whole oven.
So again infinite care must be taken in the arrangement and support of the
objects in each seggar. The bottom is covered with ground flint or other
infusible material, and the vessel is supported, when necessary, by various
forms of struts, props, or crow-claws, which sometimes leave their mark on
the base or side of the finished object. In spite of these precautions, a large
quantity of defective pieces or ‘wasters’ are produced in all works, and
these are usually cast aside. The finding of such fragments in after days is
sometimes the only proof we have that porcelain or pottery has formerly
been made at the spot. But the proof is final, for defective pieces and ‘crow-

claws’ are not objects likely to have been imported from a distance. Again,
the indelible marks left on the porcelain, either on the edge which rested
directly on the seggar or at the points where the object was supported by the
crow-claws, often give valuable hints as to the provenance of the piece in
question.[15] In the case of valuable wares these rough edges and marks are
removed as far as possible by grinding on a small wheel, and then polishing
the surface with pumice or with putty.

C H A P T E R III

GLAZES

B EFORE attacking the somewhat complicated subject of the nature and
composition of glazes, it will be well to take up again the thread of the
mechanical processes that are involved in the making of a piece of
porcelain.
The materials that enter into the glaze are reduced to the finest powder in
mills similar to those in which the china-stone and flint are ground for the
preparation of the paste. If any substance soluble in water, such as borax or
salts of the alkalis, enter into the composition of the glaze, these must be
first partially fused in combination with the other materials to form a frit, a
kind of imperfect glass. These frits, which enter so largely into the
composition of soft-paste porcelain, are formed with the object of bringing
the soluble constituents into an insoluble form before mixing with water to
form the slip. There are indeed other practical reasons that render a
preliminary partial fusion desirable.
The finely ground elements of the glaze, mixed in due proportion, are
worked up with water to form a creamlike slip into which the vessel to be
glazed is now dipped. In China, in many cases, the glaze-slip is blown upon
the surface in the form of a spray. This is done by means of a bamboo tube,
covered at one end by a piece of silk gauze, through which the liquid is
projected by the breath of the operator (French, insufflation); in other cases
the glaze may be painted on with a brush. In China, as we have mentioned,
the glaze-slip is generally applied to the raw surface of the thoroughly dried
but unbaked ware, but in other countries there is, almost without exception,
a preliminary firing of greater or less degree to produce a biscuit.
We shall restrict the use of the word glaze to the vitreous coating applied
directly to the surface of the raw paste or of the biscuit to enhance the
decorative effect of the ware, and with the more prosaic object of allowing
the surface to be easily kept clean. In the case of porcelain this coating is
always more or less transparent.[16] There is here no necessity for
concealing the natural white colour of the paste. In the case of many kinds
of pottery, however, as in the ‘enamelled fayence’ of Delft and Italy, the

glaze is rendered opaque by the addition of oxide of tin, so that the ill-
favoured ground is concealed by a white shiny surface which may be made
to resemble closely the natural surface of porcelain. A glaze of this kind is
often called an enamel, but as we are not concerned with such an expedient
we shall confine the use of that word to the various forms in which a
vitreous decoration, whether translucent or opaque, is superimposed upon
the glaze and fused into it, more or less thoroughly, by a subsequent firing
in a muffle furnace.
The English word ‘glaze’ is only another form of the word ‘glass,’ and
we may say at once that, in composition at least, there is often little
difference between the two substances. The French word for ‘glaze’ is
couverte or vernis; the last term applies well to the thin skin of glaze found
on Greek pottery. The Chinese have several expressions, but it is a curious
fact that the characters with which most of these terms are written contain
the radical for ‘oil,’ and indeed the word ‘oil’ itself is often used in the sense
of ‘glaze.’
Mr. Rix puts it well when he says that the glaze is to the enameller of
porcelain what his canvas is to the painter; while in the case of a decoration
‘sous couverte,’ the glaze corresponds to the varnish which, while
protecting his work, gives brilliancy to the colouring (Journal of Society of
Arts, vol. xli.). It is, moreover, the vehicle by which the design is
harmonised and rendered mellow. The effect is produced at once and
endures practically for all time.
The hardness and fusibility of glazes differ widely, and they are
conditioned by the nature of the wares that they cover. It is evident that
there must be a close relation between the fusing-points of paste and glaze,
and that the latter should be the more fusible of the two. The difference of
melting-point should, however, not be too great. The melted glaze should
rather, by penetrating into the already softened paste or by a chemical action
upon its surface, form a more or less uniform mass with it. In cooling, the
contraction of the glaze should follow that of the subjacent paste. This is a
most important point; any discordance may lead to splitting, cracking, and
‘crazing.’
The beauty of the surface of porcelain depends on the fact that the glaze
has become intimately united with the paste during the long exposure of
both to a high temperature. We should not be conscious, in regarding a fine

specimen of porcelain, of a greater or less thickness of glass covering an
opaque substance; we should rather see in it the polished surface of ivory or
of some precious marble.
It would seem that it was the beauty of the glassy surface, enhancing the
brilliancy of the colouring, rather than any practical advantage connected
with its use, that first led to the application of glaze to pottery. The
turquoise and green glazes of the Egyptians (the colour is derived from a
silicate of copper along with soda and sometimes lime) were known to the
men of the Early Empire. They were applied to a fritlike mass of sand held
together by silicate of soda, to which the name of porcelain has sometimes
been very wrongly given. Objects of steatite, of slate, and even of rock
crystal were sometimes covered with a coloured glaze of this kind, but it
was never applied to the clay vessels in daily use. These were made, then as
now, from the unctuous clay of the Nile bank. For this restriction there was
a very good reason, namely that a glaze of this nature, composed chiefly of
alkaline silicates, will not adhere to a base of ordinary clay. It was not until
Ptolemaic and Roman times that, by the discovery or adoption of a glaze
containing lead, the ancients were enabled to glaze their pottery. So in
Assyria, the employment of glazes was almost confined to the decoration of
the surface of brickwork, the bricks being of a loose and somewhat sandy
texture.[17]
In these glazes, and indeed in much earlier examples from Babylonia,
both tin and lead have been found. The respective virtues of the silicates of
these metals were doubtless appreciated, that of tin to form a white opaque
enamel hiding the material below, and that of lead to enable the glaze into
which it enters to adhere to a paste formed of a plastic clay.
With the Chinese the aim was rather æsthetic than practical. They sought
by means of the marvellous glazes that cover their ancient porcelain to
imitate the surface of natural stones; their early celadons were in a measure
intended to take the place of the precious green jade, so highly esteemed by
them.
At the time when the manufacture of porcelain was first introduced from
China there were (apart from the salt-glazed stoneware, which lies quite
outside our inquiry) three classes of glaze in general use either in Europe or
in the nearer East:—

1. Glazes consisting essentially of alkaline silicates without either lead or
tin. Such glazes could only be applied to a fritty silicious base, and in India
and Persia their employment seems to have been a survival from Egyptian
and Assyrian times.[18]
2. Opaque enamel glazes, the opacity being due to the presence of tin; a
considerable amount of lead also is generally found in these glazes. We are
not concerned here with the obscure origin of this group, but in the
sixteenth century this enamelled fayence was in general use for the better
class of table-ware. It includes the Italian majolica, the French fayence of
Nevers and Rouen, and above all the earthenware of Delft.
3. The oily-looking lead glazes with which the common earthenwares
were covered. These were essentially the glazes of the Middle Ages in
Europe, and their employment could probably be traced back to the lead-
glazed ware sparingly used by the Romans. We have already noticed the use
of a similar glaze in Egypt as far back probably as Ptolemaic times.
There were practical objections to all these glazes. It is true that at Delft,
by the use of the tin enamel, a ware could be turned out closely resembling,
in external aspect, the blue and white porcelain of China, but the enamel
was soft and would in time chip off at the edges, showing the dark earthy
clay beneath. On the other hand, the alkaline glazes of the East were not
much known in Europe; they can only be used upon a very tender and
treacherous base. In India and Persia, however, a ware thus glazed still
competes with the hard porcelain of the Far East. In spite of the great
objections to the glazes of our third class, those containing lead—objections
arising from their softness and from the danger of poisoning to those
employed in their manufacture—their use has tended rather to increase. Not
only is lead the principal constituent of the glazes still universally used for
common pottery, but it forms an important element in the glaze of our finer
earthenwares as well as in that of those bone pastes which rank with us as
porcelain.
The glaze which had been brought to perfection by the Chinese at an
early period differs from all those yet mentioned by its hardness, its high
fusing-point, and in its chemical composition. Speaking generally, the glaze
of porcelain differs in composition from the paste which it covers only
sufficiently to allow of its becoming completely liquid at the extreme heat
of the furnace; and just as the paste of Chinese porcelain has a wider limit

of variability than that made in Europe, but is on the whole of a ‘milder’
type than the latter, so we find that while the glazes of the Chinese are as a
whole less refractory and not quite so hard, there is still a wide range of
variation in these qualities.
If, then, we theoretically regard porcelain as a compound of a silicate of
alumina with an alkaline silicate of the same base, we may say that the
glaze of porcelain is formed by the latter body alone, that it is, in fact,
merely a fused felspar. But as in the case of the paste, so in the glaze there
is generally present an excess of silica, derived from the quartz contained in
the petuntse or pegmatite, and this silica enters into combination with some
other bases which are present in the constituents of the glaze, thereby
increasing its fusibility and modifying the contraction in cooling. The most
important of these additional bases is lime, so that the more fusible type
may be called a calcareous, as opposed to a more refractory or purely
felspathic glaze. As much as 21 per cent. of lime has been found in some
Chinese glazes, the amount of alumina being proportionately reduced.
There is more or less lime in the glaze of most kinds of European hard
porcelain, but the exceptionally hard and refractory paste made at Sèvres
since the time of Brongniart is covered by a glaze of corresponding
hardness from which that earth is absent. This hard paste has, however, of
late been replaced in part by one of a milder type, and with this latter a
calcareous glaze has been adopted even at Sèvres, the object of the change
being, as we have said, to allow of a more brilliant decoration.
There is a perceptible difference in the aspect of these two types of
glazes after firing. The hard, non-calcareous glaze has a slightly milky look.
The softer calcareous type is more brilliant, and approaches in transparence
and limpidity to the lead glazes of soft porcelain. A glaze of this last kind
was used at Sèvres for a few years after the first introduction of the hard
paste, and perhaps also at Dresden in quite early days.
The principal objection to a hard refractory glaze, such as that so long in
use at Sèvres, arises from the difficulty of properly incorporating the
enamel colours with its body. The restriction of the number of pigments that
can be employed, both under and on the surface of the glaze, in
consequence of the high temperature at which the latter melts, is another
drawback. The dulness, the ‘painted on’ look of so much of the decoration
on European hard paste porcelain, is in great measure a consequence of the

employment of a glaze that is only softened at a high temperature. As an
example of a medium type of glaze we give the composition of that used at
Berlin in 1836. This consisted of kaolin, 31 per cent.; quartz, 43 per cent.;
gypsum, 14 per cent.; and ground porcelain, 12 per cent. A glaze long in use
at Dresden is of a very similar character. Felspar, it will be seen, does not
enter into its composition, and such a glaze can contain but little potash or
soda. With this we may contrast the hard glaze of Sèvres, composed simply
of ground pegmatite, a rock consisting mainly of felspar. This glaze yields
on analysis 74 per cent. of silica, 17 per cent. of alumina, and as much as 8
per cent. of potash.
The glaze on Chinese porcelain is prepared by mixing certain special
varieties of petuntse with an impure lime, prepared by burning limestone
with dry fern as fuel. It contains, as we have seen, from 15 to 21 per cent. of
lime, 5 to 6 per cent. of alkalis, 11 per cent. of alumina, and 66 per cent. of
silica.
We give these examples to illustrate the principal types of glazes used
for hard paste porcelain. It will be noticed that the constituents are drawn
from widely different sources.
The glazes of soft paste porcelain always contain a large amount both of
lead and of potash or soda, so that they approximate in composition to a
flint glass. The alkalis, generally introduced as carbonates, necessitate a
previous fritting of part at least of the materials. Boracic acid plays an
important part in the glaze of most modern English wares: it is generally
introduced in the form of borate of soda or borax. This acid replaces in part
the silica, just as in the paste the glassy materials are replaced by bone-
earth.

C H A P T E R IV

DECORATION BY MEANS OF COLOUR

I F we were treating the subject purely from a practical point of view, with
the glazing and firing of a piece of porcelain the manufacture might be
held to be terminated. This would be strictly true, for instance, of the
white porcelain of Berlin, so largely used in the chemical laboratory; a great
deal, too, of the china in domestic use receives no decoration of any kind.
But for us there remains still to examine the element of colour and the way
in which it is applied to the decoration of porcelain.
This is effected in three different ways: by the employment of coloured
glazes; by painting on the surface of the paste before the glaze is applied
(this is the decoration sous couverte); and finally by coloured enamels
applied to the surface of the glaze. These methods may be combined, but as
this is rarely the case, such a division forms the basis of a convenient
classification, more especially for the wares of China and Japan.
In the case of both the paste and of the glaze, we have been dealing with
a restricted group of elements, with alumina, lime, potash and soda; and
apart from impurities unintentionally introduced, all the combinations of
these bodies are colourless. We have now to consider the effect of
introducing certain of the heavy metallic bases which combine with the
excess of silica to form coloured silicates.
The metals that give to Oriental porcelain its brilliant hues are few in
number. Indeed, in all lands and at all times, iron, copper, cobalt, and
manganese have been the principal sources of colour in the decoration not
only of porcelain, but of most other kinds of pottery. As equal to these four
metals in importance, but not strictly to be classed as colouring materials,
we may place tin, the source of most opaque whites, and lead, which is the
main fluxing element for our enamels. Next in importance to these metals
come antimony, long known to the Chinese as a source of yellow, and
finally, but this last only since the beginning of the eighteenth century, gold,
as the source of a red pigment.[19] This exhausts the list, not only for the Far
East, but for all the pottery of Europe up to the end of the eighteenth
century.

It was in a period of artistic decline that the advance of chemical
knowledge led to the introduction of other colours, derived both from new
metallic bases and from fresh combinations of those already known. By far
the most important of these new colours are those derived from the salts of
chromium, but uranium and other rare metals have also been called into
use. As with the sister art of painting, the beauty and harmony of the effects
produced have not kept pace with the enlargement of the palette—the result
was rather to accentuate the decline that had already set in from other
causes.
There are two metals, iron and copper, that have always been of pre-
eminent importance as sources of colour. Each of them forms two series of
combinations differing entirely in hue, so that were we confined to the use
of these two metals, our palette would still be a fairly complete one.
The protoxide of copper, especially when a certain amount of lime and
of soda is present, forms a series of beautiful blue and green silicates. When
the proportion of oxygen is decreased, as happens when the surface of the
ware is exposed in the kiln to a reducing flame, a suboxide of copper is
formed, which gives a deep and more or less opaque red hue to the glaze.
So in the case of iron, the so-called sesqui-oxide is perhaps the most
abundant source of colouring matter in the mineral kingdom: the colours
produced by it range from pale yellow to orange, brown, and full red.
When, however, the iron is present as a protoxide, the colour given to the
glaze is entirely altered; it ranges from a pale sea-green to a deep olive.
The remaining two elements that have long played an important part in
the decoration of pottery are cobalt and manganese. These metals, in the
form of silicates, yield the well-known series of blues and purples. One
important source of the famous underglaze blue of China and Japan is a
black mineral known to us as wad, which occurs in earthy to stony
concretions. This wad contains oxides of both cobalt and manganese, and
the quality of the blue obtained from it depends in great measure upon the
proportion in which the two metals occur.
The employment of antimony is comparatively rare, but, generally in
combination with iron, it is an important source of yellow. In spite of the
volatile nature of most of its salts, in the presence of silica this metal is able
to withstand a high temperature.

But before considering the application of colour to the glaze, we must
mention briefly a method of decoration which was in great favour at Sèvres
some years ago—I mean the application of colour to the paste itself. This
was done long ago by Wedgwood, sometimes to the whole mass of the
paste, as was the case with his jasper ware, which some authorities class as
a true porcelain. At Sèvres these coloured pastes have been generally
applied to the surface only, in thin layers, or even as mere coats of paint.
When laid on in successive coats, as in the so-called pâte-sur-pâte, the
amount of colouring matter need not be large, from 2 to 5 per cent. When
larger proportions of coloured oxides are mixed with the pâte, and this is
painted on with a brush, the process differs little from the ordinary
decoration under the glaze, into which it indeed may be said to pass.
Coloured pastes of this description have never been employed by the
Chinese, and it is not possible to obtain much brilliancy or decorative effect
by their use. They are, indeed, foreign to the nature of porcelain, sacrificing
the brilliant white ground which should be the basis of all decorative
schemes.
When the colouring matter is subjacent to the glaze it must be of a nature
to withstand the full heat of the subsequent firing; we are restricted
therefore to colours ‘à grand feu.’ This practically confines us to cobalt and
to certain combinations of iron and copper, as far as the ‘old palette’ is
concerned. At Sèvres and elsewhere other metals have been made use of
whose silicates withstand the extreme temperature of the kiln. By the use of
chromium we have command of many shades of green. If to an oxide of tin
we add a minute quantity of the sesqui-oxide of chromium, we can obtain,
in the presence of lime, many shades from rose to purple; and a mixture of
cobalt and chromium produces a fine black. There is, however, as yet no
satisfactory yellow pigment known that will withstand the grand feu. At the
best we can get a straw colour from certain ores of tungsten and titanium,
and from uranium a yellow deeper in tint but uncertain in application.
The majority of the colours we have mentioned require a more or less
oxidising flame for their full development. There are, however, two most
important groups of coloured glazes, long the monopoly of the Chinese, but
now successfully imitated in France and elsewhere, which require, for a
term at least, to be subjected to a reducing flame.
The first of these glazes is the well-known Celadon, using that term in
its proper and restricted sense, for certain shades of greyish green. The

celadon of the Chinese is produced by the presence of a small quantity,
about two per cent., of protoxide of iron in the glaze. An oxidising flame
would change this protoxide to the yellow sesqui-oxide. We may note that a
celadon of good tint can only be produced when a considerable quantity of
lime is present in the glaze.
The other group, depending also upon a reducing flame, is constituted by
the famous Sang de bœuf and Flambé glazes.
The colour of the first is given by the red sub-oxide of copper, chiefly
suspended in the glaze. In the case of the flambé or ‘transmutation’ glazes,
the strange caprices of colour have their origin, in part at least, in the
contrast of the red sub-oxide and the green silicate of copper. In the case of
both these glazes everything depends on the regulation of the draught of the
furnace in which they are fired. The French have lately been at great pains
to master the difficulties attendant upon the development of the effects
sought after, and some success has been attained not only on a porcelain
ground as at Sèvres, but these glazes have also been applied to fayence at
the Golfe St. Juan and elsewhere. It has been proved by some experiments
made at Sèvres, that in the firing, the critical period, during which so much
depends upon the regulation of the draught, is just before the melting of the
glaze. Once melted the glaze not only forms an impervious cover which
prevents the smoky flame from discolouring the paste below, but the glaze
itself is no longer sensitive to the action of the gases which surround it. It is
therefore only during a short period preceding the moment when the glaze
begins to melt, that it is necessary to promote a smoky and reducing flame.
This is a point of considerable practical importance.[20]
The application of the Decoration under the Glaze is essentially a
Chinese method. To it we owe the important family of ‘blue and white’
ware. The superiority of the Chinese in the management of the blue colour
has been attributed to various causes. The result is no doubt influenced not
only by the constitution of both paste and glaze, but also by the fact that the
colour is painted upon the raw paste.
An important factor also is the care exercised by the Chinese in the
selection and preparation of the blue pigment, by which not only the desired
intensity but the richness of hue is secured. The quality of the blue depends
in great measure upon the presence of a small quantity of manganese in the
cobalt ore employed.

The only other colour that the Chinese have succeeded in using under
the glaze is the red derived from the sub-oxide of copper. The full
development of this colour has for long been a lost art, but a less brilliant
red from this source, often little better than a buff colour, is sometimes
found in later examples combined with the blue.
In the application of colours under the glaze there is one difficulty that
the Chinese have surmounted even in their commonest ware, and this is the
tendency of the cobalt blue to dissolve and ‘run’ in the glaze, giving to the
design a blurred and indistinct appearance. It would seem that the sharpness
of outline depends upon the consistency of the glaze at the moment when it
first melts. At that point the glaze should be viscous and not inclined to
flow, and this is what occurs in the case of the highly calcareous glazes of
the Chinese.
Before passing to the enamel colours, we must say something of a class
of glazes which may be looked upon as to some extent of an intermediate
character. These are the glazes associated with the ‘San tsai,’ the ‘three
colours’ first used in combination by the Chinese.
These coloured glazes were applied, not, as is usually the case in China,
to the raw paste, but they were, it would seem, painted on the surface after a
preliminary firing. Being applied with a brush, the whole surface of the
biscuit was not necessarily covered, and glazes of all these colours could be
used upon the same piece of porcelain. Glazes of this class were rendered
more fusible by the addition of a certain quantity of lead, and on this
ground, and still more in their historical relation, as we shall see later on,
these ‘painted glazes’ may be considered as a link connecting the old
refractory glazes of the monochrome and ‘blue and white’ wares on the one
hand, with the fusible enamels which were at a later time superimposed
upon the glaze on the other.
The three colours which are applied in this way by the Chinese are: (1) A
turquoise blue derived from copper with the addition of some soda or
potash. (2) The manganese purple, often described as aubergine. (3) A
yellow prepared from an iron ore containing some amount of antimony.
None of these colours would stand the full heat of the furnace, and for a
reason which will be explained further on, they are known as the colours of
the demi grand feu.[21]
Coloured Enamels. We have now to describe

PLATE II. CHINESE MING PORCELAIN, BLACK GROUND

the decoration that is applied to the surface of the glaze. In these coloured
enamels the colouring matter is dissolved in a flux which contains a large
quantity of lead. The comparatively gentle heat at which such enamels fuse
allows of the use of a much larger palette than is available for the
decoration under the glaze.
It is well to point out at the outset the marked distinction in composition
and in appearance between the brilliant enamels of the Chinese and the dull
tints of the ‘porcelain colours’ found in the hard pastes of Meissen and

Sèvres. To make clear the cause of this difference it will be necessary to
enter into some little detail.
The colouring matter in the European enamels may amount to as much
as a third part of the total amount of the flux with which they are
incorporated. As there is not enough of this flux to dissolve the whole of the
oxides, the enamel remains dull and opaque after firing. The flux, in fact, is
only used as a vehicle to attach the colour to the surface of the porcelain.
The effect in consequence is inferior in brilliancy to that obtained by the
Chinese with their transparent enamels in which the metallic oxides, present
in much smaller quantity, are thoroughly dissolved to form a glass. There is,
unfortunately, a practical obstacle to the application of these glassy enamels
to the hard pastes and glazes of Europe. It is impossible to ensure their firm
adhesion to the subjacent glaze. The Chinese, however, do not appear to
find any difficulty in effecting this. The following explanation has been
given to account for the difference of behaviour:—the tendency of the
enamel to split off in cooling, as has been proved by experiment, arises
from the small amount of contraction at that time of the highly kaolinic
paste, compared with that of the superimposed glassy enamel. The more
silicious paste used by the Chinese contracts, on the contrary, at the same
rate approximately as the enamels that it carries, and these enamels may
therefore be laid on in sufficient thickness without any risk of their
subsequently splitting off.[22] To appreciate the difference in the decorative
value of these two classes of enamels it is only necessary to compare the
brilliant effect, say, of a piece of Chinese egg-shell of the time of Kien-lung
with the tame surface of a contemporary Meissen plate, elaborately painted
with landscapes or flowers.
The glassy enamels used by the Chinese resemble the pastes used for
artificial jewellery. They are essentially silicates of lead and an alkali. The
composition of the flux has to be modified to ensure the full development of
the colour of the different metallic oxides which are either made up with it
or added subsequently. But in a general way we may say that the colourless
fluxes which form the basis of the coloured enamels are prepared by
melting in a crucible a mixture of pure quartz sand and red lead, and adding
more or less alkali. In certain cases the lead predominates, as when it is
proposed to make an emerald green enamel by means of copper, or when
the flux is to serve as a basis for the ruby colour given by a minute quantity
of gold. On the other hand, if copper be added to a flux containing an

excess of either soda or potash, we obtain a turquoise blue. A fine purple,
again, can only be obtained from manganese with an alkaline flux; if too
much lead is present only a brown tint is obtainable.
To melt these enamels and to ensure their adherence to the subjacent
glaze another firing at a gentler temperature is necessary; indeed in many
cases more than one such firing has to be resorted to. The comparatively
high temperature required to develop the colour of one enamel may be
sufficient to decompose or otherwise damage another part of the decoration.
The lowest temperature of all is that of the muffle-fire in which the gilding
is fixed. This is therefore the last decoration to be added.
The oven in which these enamels are melted on to the surface of the
already glazed porcelain is called a muffle. The ware in this case is
protected from the direct action of the flame by the closed rectangular box
of fireclay in which it is placed, like bread in a baker’s oven. The muffle is
placed over the fireplace of a rectangular furnace, and the flame plays round
the sides in such a way as to ensure the uniform distribution of the heat. For
the sake of greater cleanliness and the avoidance of dust, the pieces to be
fired are placed upon tiles of porcelain rather than upon biscuit or fireclay
supports. The temperature may vary from a dull to a full red heat (600° to
1000°C.), and the firing lasts from four to twelve hours.
We have already mentioned incidentally many of the so-called ‘muffle-
colours’ or enamels. Those used in China were carefully studied some years
ago by Ebelmen and Salvétat at Sèvres. It would appear that the opaque
white of the Chinese is obtained from arsenic—the merits of the use of tin
for this purpose appear to be unknown to them. The blacks are made from
the already mentioned cobalt-manganese ore (wad), mixed with white lead
—when oxide of copper is added a more lustrous black is obtained.[23] For
the blue enamel, a very small quantity of cobalt suffices to give a brilliant
colour. The various tints of the greens and blues derived from copper
depend on the nature of the flux; of this we have already given an instance.
Antimony in combination with lead gives a bright yellow, which tends to
orange when a little iron is present; by the addition of more iron the colour
of old bronze is imitated. Iron in the state of the sesqui-oxide is the source
of many shades of red, but as this iron oxide will not readily combine with
silica to form a transparent glass, it has to be applied as a more or less
opaque paint, and thus differs from the other colours in being in perceptible
relief. Hence the importance of the ruby red derived from gold, which was

first introduced into China in the early part of the eighteenth century, and
soon became the predominating colour in the decoration of the time (the
famille rose).
The palette of the European enameller is a more extensive one, and each
large porcelain manufactory has its book of recipes. The composition of the
enamels and the relation of the metallic oxides to the fluxes employed have
been systematically studied in more than one laboratory. It is only at Sèvres,
however, that the results obtained have been made public. It has been the
pride of successive generations of chemists—of Brongniart, of Salvétat, of
Ebelmen, not to mention living men—to devise fresh sources of colour for
the decoration of porcelain. First chromium, then nickel, cadmium,
uranium, iridium, and platinum have been added to the list of metals from
which enamel pigments have been derived. Among the colours of the
muffle-stove the chief gain has perhaps been the discovery of the quality
possessed by the oxide of zinc of altering the tints of other metallic oxides
with which it is mixed.

CHAPTER V

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA

Introductory—Classification—The Sung Dynasty (960-1279)—The Mongol or Yuan Dynasty
(1280-1368).

‘La porcelaine de la Chine! Cette porcelaine
supérieure à toutes les porcelaines de la terre!
Cette porcelaine qui a fait depuis des siècles, et sur
tout le globe, des passionnés plus fous que dans
toutes les autres branches de la curiosité.... Enfin
cette matière terreuse façonnée dans les mains
d’hommes en un objet de lumière, de doux coloris
dans un luisant de pierre précieuse.’—Edmond de
Goncourt, ‘La Maison d’un artiste.’

In any work on porcelain it is something more than the premier place
that must be given to the ware of China. We are dealing with an art Chinese
in origin, and during a succession of many centuries Chinese in its
development. It was only at a comparatively late time that the knowledge of
this art spread over the whole civilised world. We in England have, as it
were, acknowledged the pre-eminence of that country by adopting the word
‘china’ as an equivalent, more or less, to porcelain.[24]
It was under Imperial patronage that the art was developed in China, and
the excellence of the porcelain of that country has in a measure varied with
the taste and intelligence with which that patronage was exercised in
different reigns. The native scholar and connoisseur has for ages been a
collector of choice pieces, and his influence has always been exercised in a
conservative direction. There is, indeed, in the whole world no such
consistent laudator temporis acti, and it is this conservative spirit, resulting
in a constant ‘returning upon oneself,’ that it is essential to bear in mind if
we are to understand the involved relation of the old and the new in the
history of the arts of China.
But the Chinese potter was not working only for the court or for the
learned connoisseur, or again for the supply of the towns and villages. From
the earliest times, or at least for the last thousand years, there has been a
demand for his ware, small at first but slowly spreading, from the outer

barbarian. Porcelain, or something akin to it, has been exported from China,
by one path or another, from the time of the first Arab settlements at Canton
and Kinsay in the eighth or ninth century; and thus a countervailing
influence, acting in the direction of variety and change, at least as far as the
decoration of the ware is concerned, has always been present. To give but
two instances of this influence—we shall return to the subject later on: in
the intimate connection of the Chinese court with Western Asia, and
especially with Persia, in the thirteenth century, we may probably find the
occasion of the first introduction into China of the blue decoration under the
glaze; and with more certainty—the fact is indeed acknowledged by the
Chinese—we may attribute the second great revolution in the decoration of
porcelain, the use of enamel colours over the glaze, to European or Arab
influence.
On the other hand, the decline that set in at the end of the eighteenth
century was not a little hastened by the increased demand for ware
decorated to suit the depraved taste of the ‘Western barbarian.’
For in spite of his rigidity and his conservative spirit, the Chinese potter
has always understood how to adapt his wares to the changing taste of his
customers. Indeed the variation in the decoration, the subtle nuances in
colour and design, that enable us to distinguish between the Chinese
porcelain exported to India, to Persia, and to the nations of the Christian
west, might be made the basis of a most interesting study.
When we come to consider the various factories of porcelain that sprang
up in Europe in the course of the eighteenth century, we shall find that what
strikes the inquirer above all (in comparison with the kindred arts of the
time) is the little we can observe in the way of development either in the
technique or decoration of the wares. The art springs up full-blown; what
history there is is concerned rather with an artistic decline. It is only in
China that we can hope to trace the steps by which this special branch of the
potter’s art attained to the perfection that we find in the products of the
eighteenth century, and this alone is a reason for dwelling, even in a
treatment of the subject so general and brief as this must needs be, on what
may seem to some mere antiquarian detail.
But there is another and perhaps even a more important reason for our
trying to form some idea of what the earliest wares of the Chinese were
like: unless we make some such endeavour we shall find it impossible to

understand the later history of porcelain in that country. One point must be
specially borne in mind when we are attempting to follow the order in
which fresh styles and designs were introduced in China. When a new
method of decoration had been adopted and had come into general use—the
introduction of underglaze blue in early Ming times, and that of coloured
enamels at a later period, are cases in point—this did not involve the
abandonment of the older styles. There was a constant effort to maintain the
old methods, and in the most flourishing times of the emperors Kang-he and
Kien-lung, the series of great men who had charge of the imperial works at
King-te-chen, some of them practical potters themselves, were constantly
occupied with the problems of reproducing the glazes, if not the pastes, of
the earliest wares. During the reign of Yung-chêng (1723-1735), perhaps the
culminating period in the history of Chinese porcelain, when Nien Hsi-yao
was superintendent, a list was drawn up of fifty-seven varieties of porcelain
made at King-te-chen. In this list the titles of all the old wares of the Sung
dynasty are to be found, and to them the place of honour is evidently
awarded (Bushell, chap. xii.). The names of some of these old wares, the Ko
yao and the Kuan yao, for instance, are applied to porcelain in common use
at the present day, an attribution based on the greater or less resemblance of
this modern ware to the Sung porcelain, at least in the matter of the glazes.
It is only quite of late years that we in Europe have been able to make
any clear distinction, not only between the different classes of Chinese
porcelain, but between what is Chinese and what is not. A few years ago the
most characteristic porcelain of Japan was classed as Chinese, while on the
other hand Corea and even local English factories were credited with
porcelain made and decorated in one or other of the former countries.
It is nearly two hundred years since the famous letters of the Jesuit
missionary, the Père D’Entrecolles, were written, and these letters still
remain our best source of information for the processes of manufacture at
King-te-chen. There was little further information on the subject from the
Chinese side[25] until, in 1856, Stanislas Julien translated part of a Chinese
work treating chiefly of the same porcelain factory—this is the King-te-
chen Tao Lu, a book which contains in addition some information about the
history of the different wares. This translation was for many years the only
native source of information available to students of Chinese porcelain, and
many were the misconceptions and blunders in which these students were
landed. The book was indeed accompanied by a preface and valuable notes

by M. Salvétat, the porcelain expert of Sèvres, but Julien himself, though an
eminent Chinese scholar, had no practical acquaintance either with the
matter in hand or indeed with the country generally.
The beginning of a sounder knowledge of the subject was made when
that collector of genius, the late Sir A. Wollaston Franks, published a
catalogue of the private collection of Japanese and Chinese porcelain which
he afterwards presented to the nation. His marvellous intuition and his vast
experience enabled him to seize upon points of resemblance and difference
which threw light upon the origin of the various wares, and to expose at the
same time the inconsistencies of the arrangements then in vogue. He it was
who first pointed out the general worthlessness, as a guide to the date or
even the country of any piece of porcelain, of the name of dynasty and
emperor which it might bear. His successor, Mr. C. H. Read, has well
carried on the tradition. At the present moment the British Museum is one
of the few places where an attempt has been made at a systematic
arrangement of a representative collection of Chinese and Japanese
porcelain.[26]
In the meantime in China itself, both in connection with the embassies at
Pekin and among some of the merchants at Shanghai and other treaty ports,
much information was being collected, and it was above all the merit of
Franks to keep himself in communication with and to encourage all such
research. Dr. Hirth, long in the service of the Chinese at Shanghai and
elsewhere, has published a series of learned studies treating of the relation
of the Chinese to the Roman empire, of the Arab traders during the Middle
Ages, and of the early history of Chinese porcelain generally. But it is to a
former member of our embassy at Pekin, to Dr. Bushell, that we are above
all indebted for the throwing open of Chinese sources of information upon
the history of porcelain. A worthy successor of the Père D’Entrecolles in his
intimate acquaintance with the country and its language, Dr. Bushell is well
abreast of the chemical and technical knowledge of the day, and his position
as physician to our embassy at Pekin has given him access to information
from the best Chinese sources, as well as to the treasures of many of the
native collections of the capital.
Dr. Bushell has written the text to a sumptuously illustrated work,
nominally a catalogue of the collection of porcelain formed by the late Mr.
Walters of Philadelphia, and into this text he has woven all the vast wealth
of material that he had accumulated during many years of study both at

Pekin and in Europe. This work has thus superseded all other sources of
information on the history and manufacture of Chinese porcelain. He has, in
fact, ransacked all that has been written in China on these subjects, and his
translations have this advantage over the works of Julien, that they are made
by one who knows thoroughly the subject that the Chinese author is dealing
with.
We must not forget the researches on the chemical and technical side of
the subject by what we may call the school of Sèvres. To these workers we
have made frequent reference in previous chapters. It is to the experiments
and analyses of men such as Brongniart, Salvétat, Ebelmen, and Vogt, that
we are indebted for our knowledge of the chemical constitution of the paste,
the glaze, and the enamels of Chinese porcelain, as well as for a rational
exposition of the methods of its manufacture. To sum up, our sources of
information of late years are, in the main, English, as far as the history and
what I may call the sinology of our subject are concerned; but for the
chemistry and technology we must turn to French works. As far as I know,
little of value has been published in Germany on the subject of Oriental
porcelain. The discussion between Karabacek, Meyer, and Hirth (whose
later papers have been published in German) on the early history of celadon
and on the Arab traders of the Middle Ages, is perhaps the most notable
exception.
We are in the dark even now as to the date and place of origin of more
than one class of Oriental porcelain. On the question of the relation of the
ceramic wares of China to the contemporary sister arts, there are many
points to be cleared up,—I mean especially the question how far the early
wares were influenced by the art of the bronze-caster and the carver of jade,
and again to what extent the decoration of porcelain in later times was
dependent upon the example of the contemporary schools of painting.
When we know about the pictorial art of the Chinese even the little that we
do already of that of their Japanese neighbours, we shall, to give but one
instance, be able to trace the source of the beautiful landscapes and flower
designs that we find on the vases and plates of the famille verte and famille
rose.
There is one source of information which remains as yet almost
completely untapped. The Japanese have been for many centuries keen
collectors of Chinese porcelain, as of other Chinese objects of art. They
have their own views on its history, and some of the finest specimens of the

older wares remain still in Japan, in spite of the many pieces that have of
late years been carried away to Europe and America. As we shall see, they
have in their own pottery and porcelain handed on to quite recent days
many traditions of Ming and earlier times that have been lost in China. If
some Japanese connoisseur or antiquary, strong in Chinese lore, could give
us a history of porcelain from his own point of view, I think that European
investigators would have cause to be grateful.
Much could be gleaned, as I have already said, by studying the relation
of the potters art to that of the jade-carver and the caster of bronze, and this
brings us to an important point that perhaps has not been fully appreciated
by us in the West. I refer to the comparatively late date of the beginning of
porcelain in China compared, for example, to the arts just mentioned. We
can hardly carry back the history of true porcelain beyond the great Tang
dynasty (618-907 A.D.), and even in China there is no existing specimen that
can safely be attributed to so early a date. But this same Tang dynasty was
the very heyday in that country, not only of military power but also of
artistic culture. It would be impossible to enter into this important subject
here; it is one that has been strangely ignored by us in Europe. Suffice to
say that the great figure-painters of this period were looked back to with
veneration in later times, both in China and in Japan, and that the two
schools of landscape, the colour school of the North and the black and
white ‘literary’ school of the South—schools whose traditions have
survived to the present day—were both founded by Tang artists. At that
time art critics were known (and even honoured); they already wrote books
on the early history of painting, and they have left us descriptions of famous
collections.
We may expect, then, to find the influence of these more precocious arts
on the early fictile ware of China, and indeed we see the quaint decoration
and the not too beautiful outlines of the early hieratic bronzes repeated on
the rare specimens that survive from the dynasty that after a period of unrest
followed that of Tang. This was the Sung dynasty, which lasted till the time
of the Mongol invasion in the thirteenth century.[27]
It is difficult for a European to appreciate the charm, or rather
superlative excellence, that is found by a Chinaman in a fine specimen of
jade. It is, however, a substance that is closely linked with his philosophy,
his religion, and above all with his all-important ceremonial. No wonder,
then, if from an early time he strove, with the pastes and glazes at his

command, to imitate such a material. And numberless references in
contemporary writers, as well as the evidence of many of the oldest pieces
of porcelain surviving, show that this was the case. We may safely say that
in these early specimens the thick glaze, of tints varying from a true celadon
to a more pronounced blue or green, was admired in proportion to its
resemblance to jade. As for the porcelain itself, all that was looked for in
the paste was that it should be hard, and that the vessel when struck should
give out a bell-like sound—‘a plaintive note like a cup of jade,’ as one early
Chinese writer says of a porcelain cup in his collection.
The Chinese in these times possessed also elaborately carved vessels of
rock crystal and of various kinds of chalcedony, and these also it was
attempted to imitate with the early glazes. Glass, too, as a material for small
objects, was probably known; it seems, however, to have been somewhat of
a rarity. It is mentioned by writers of the Tang period in connection with
these early wares, and indeed it is possible that there may be some
confusion in the literature of the time (or rather perhaps in our interpretation
of the language used) between the two materials—the thickly glazed
porcelain and the more or less opaque glass.
After these preliminary remarks we shall be in a better position to
interpret the somewhat involved and contradictory allusions to our subject
found in Chinese books.
We now come to the important question of the classification of Chinese
porcelain. A difficulty here arises from the rival claims of two systems. The
older and perhaps safer division depends solely on the nature of the ware,
its colour, decoration, etc.; but in opposition to this the claim of the more
logical, historical classification has, with our increasing knowledge, become
of late years more pressing. The result has been an attempt to combine the
two systems. Such an attempt must necessarily lead to many compromises,
and yet something of the sort is perhaps the only available plan. We may
compare the development of the ceramic art in China to what has taken
place in the evolution of the animal kingdom: while new and more
elaborated forms are evolved, the older ones, or many of them, survive in
but slightly modified forms. If this tendency be borne well in mind there
will be less danger of confusion between the really old types and the
modern representations or even copies which are called, in China, by the
same names.

The three classes into which Chinese porcelain is divided—and there is a
general agreement among collectors on this head—rest on such an attempt
to combine a historical with a technical classification:—
1. Porcelain with single-coloured glazes, including plain white ware. The
colour of the glaze is derived from two metals only, iron and copper. Any
further decoration depends upon the moulding of the surface or upon
patterns incised in the paste. All the wares made up to the end of the Sung
period (1279 A.D.) may probably be included in this class.
2. Porcelain decorated with colour under the glaze. This division is
nearly equivalent to our ‘blue and white’ ware, but in addition to cobalt,
copper is at times introduced to give a red colour. This system of decoration
was probably introduced during the course of the fourteenth century, and it
is associated with the Ming dynasty.
3. Porcelain decorated with enamels over the glaze, necessitating a
second firing in a muffle-stove. The use of these fusible enamel colours
came in probably during the sixteenth century, but the art was not fully
developed till much later.
The glazes of the first and second classes as a rule contained no lead, and
to melt them the full heat of the oven, the grand feu, was required.
There is, however, a class of porcelain which does not fall well into any
of the above divisions, but which is historically of great importance. The
blue, purple, and yellow glazes of this ware were painted on the biscuit
after a preliminary baking of the paste, and then fired, not in the hottest part
of the furnace, but in what we may call the demi grand feu. The glaze of
this ware contains lead, and this fact and the method of the decoration may
be held to give it a position bridging over the interval between our first two
classes and the third—that of enamelled porcelain. This ware, painted on
the biscuit, dates, however, from an earlier time than the latter class, and
must not be confused with it.
As I have pointed out, these types did not entirely replace one another,
for the earlier forms continued to be made by the side of the later.
One of our principal difficulties in discussing the early wares of China is
to reconcile and co-ordinate the various types described in old Chinese
books with the few specimens surviving at the present day. Of these scanty
examples we can point to scarcely any in public collections; the rare pieces
that have been brought from China are in the hands of private collectors in

England, France, and America. In the Chinese authorities we find as early
as the tenth century references to porcelain which was ‘blue as the sky,
brilliant as a mirror, thin as paper, and as sonorous as a piece of jade’; an
emperor who reigned just before the accession of the Sung dynasty (960
A.D.) demanded that the porcelain made for him should be ‘of the azure tint
of the sky after rain, as it appears in the interval between the clouds.’
Compare with these descriptions the thick paste, barely translucent, the
heavy irregular glaze, greyish white to celadon or pale blue, of the few
specimens of undoubted antiquity that have survived to our day. How can
we reconcile the tradition with the material evidence? Two explanations
have been given of the discrepancy. According to one theory, all the more
delicate and fragile pieces have disappeared ‘under the hands of time’ (or
shall we say more definitely under those of endless generations of
housemaids?), only the heavy, solid specimens surviving. The other theory
is simpler: it is that the writers of the books are apt to fall into exaggeration
when speaking of any matter that has the sanction of age—that, not to
mince matters, they are as a class great liars; and this is a point of view that
commends itself to those who have any acquaintance with Chinese
literature.[28]
We have now, however, one source of information for these early wares
upon which, although it is in a measure a literary source, we can place
greater reliance. This is nothing less than an illustrated list, a catalogue
raisonné, of famous specimens of porcelain, drawn up by a distinguished
Chinese art connoisseur and collector as long ago as the end of the sixteenth
century. In this manuscript there were more than eighty coloured
reproductions of pieces, both from the author’s own collection and from
those of his friends. The work came from the library of a Chinese prince of
high rank, and it was purchased in Pekin by Dr. Bushell some twenty years
ago. Since then this valuable document has perished in a fire at a London
warehouse, where it had been deposited, but not before the illustrations had
been copied by a Chinese artist and its owner had made a careful translation
and analysis of its contents.[29] The writer, Hsiang-yuan-pien, better known
as Tzu-ching, after giving a brief sketch of the early history of ceramics in
his country, exclaims apologetically: ‘I have acquired a morbid taste for
pot-sherds. I delight in buying choice specimens of Sung, Yuan, and Ming
ware, and exhibiting them in equal rank with the bells, urns, and sacrificial
wine-vessels of bronze dating from the three ancient dynasties, from the

Chin and the Han’ (2250 B.C. to 220 A.D.)—that is to say, in placing them in
the same rank as antiquities that are acknowledged to be worthy of the
attention of the scholar. Porcelain at that time, we see, had hardly
established its claim to so dignified a position; hence the apologetic tone.
After telling us how with the advice of a few intimate friends he had
selected choice specimens, which he then copied in colour and carefully
described, Tzu-ching concludes with these words: ‘Say not that my hair is
scant and sparse, and yet I make what is only fit for a child’s toy.’ This
appeal is evidently addressed to the Lord Macaulays of his day.[30]
The first point to notice in this catalogue is that more than half of the
objects described are attributed to the Sung period (960-1279 A.D.), that is to
say, they were at least three hundred years old at the time when Tzu-ching
wrote. The Sung dynasty, we must bear in mind, was above all remembered
as a period of great wealth and material prosperity. Less warlike than the
Tang which preceded it, the arts were cultivated at the court of the pleasure-
loving emperors who had their capital during the earlier time at Kai-feng Fu
(in the north of Honan, near to the great bend of the Hoang-ho). When
driven south by the advance of the more warlike Mongols they retired to
Hangchow, the Kinsay of which Marco Polo has such wonderful tales to
relate. In these early days there was no great centre for the manufacture of
porcelain; it was made in many widely separated districts, so that the
classification of these early wares is, in a measure, a geographical one. At
King-te-chen, at least in the later Sung period, they were already making
porcelain, but for court use only, it would appear, for at that time the factory
was a strict imperial preserve, and its wares did not come into the market.
As to the still older wares, those of Ch’ai and of Ju, which generally hold
the place of honour in Chinese lists, it was of the first that the emperor
spoke when he commanded that pieces intended for his own use should be
clear as the sky after rain; but no specimen of this porcelain was extant even
in Ming times. Its place, it would seem, was taken by the Ju Yao (the word
yao is about equivalent to our term ‘ware’), which, like the Ch’ai, came
from the province of Honan. This ware also is now practically extinct; Tzu-
ching, however, claims to have possessed some specimens, and of these he
gives more than one illustration. The glaze was thick and like melted lard (a
comparison often made by the Chinese), and varied in colour from a clair-
de-lune to a brighter tint of blue. The name Ju, we may add, is often applied
to more modern glazes which resemble the old ones in colour and thickness.

The name Kuan yao, which means ‘official’ or ‘imperial’ porcelain, has
been the cause of much confusion; the term has been applied to any ware
made for imperial use. That of the Sung dynasty was made in the immediate
neighbourhood of the imperial court, first at Kai-feng Fu and later at
Hangchow. In its more strict use the term Kuan yao is applied to pieces
generally of archaic form, to censers ornamented with grotesque heads of
monstrous animals, and to wares of other shapes copied from old ritual
bronzes. The glaze varies in colour from emerald green to greyish green and
clair-de-lune, it is generally crackled, the cracks forming large ‘crab-claw’
divisions. Other kinds are described as white and very thin, but of these,
perhaps for one of the reasons given above, no examples have survived to
our day.
Lung-chuan yao and Ko yao. It will be convenient to class together these
two most important types of Chinese porcelain. At the present day these
names are applied in China to some comparatively common varieties of
porcelain, not necessarily of any great age. But more strictly Lung-chuan
yao is the term used by the Chinese for the heavy celadon pieces, whether
dating from Sung or from Ming times, which were the first kinds of
porcelain to become a regular article of export; while the word Ko yao is
used as a general name for many kinds of crackle ware, which may vary in
colour from white to a full celadon. In a more restricted sense it includes
only the early pieces with a greyish white glaze and well-marked crackles.
Lung-chuan ware was made during Sung times at a town of that name in
the province of Chekiang, situated about halfway between the Poyang lake
and the coast. In Ming times the kilns were removed to the adjacent
provincial capital, Chu-chou Fu, nearer to the coast. This was probably the
ware that Marco Polo saw when passing through the town of Tingui. It was
largely exported from the ports of Zaitun and Kinsay. It will, however, be
better to defer the discussion of this thorny question to a later chapter, when
we shall have something to say about the way in which the knowledge of
Chinese porcelain was spread through the Mohammedan and Christian
west. It will be enough for the present to mention that the Lung-chuan ware
was the original type and always remained one of the principal sources of
the Martabani celadon so prized in early Saracen times.
As this is the first time that we come across celadon ware,[31] we may
mention that we use the term in the older and narrower sense for a greyish
sea-green colour tending at times to blue. The name is, however, sometimes

made to cover nearly the whole range of monochrome glazes. It is the
Ching-tsu[32] of the Chinese and the Sei-ji of the Japanese.
The true Lung-chuan celadon of Sung times was, however, of a more
pronounced grass-green colour. But we are concerned rather with the later
celadon made at Chu-chou Fu during the Ming period. For it is to this time
that we must refer most of the heavy dishes and bowls, often fluted or
moulded in low relief with a floral design of peony or lotus flowers, or
again with plaited patterns surrounding a fish or dragon

PLATE III.
1—CHINESE, CELADON WARE
2—CHINESE, CELADON WARE

which occupies the centre; in other examples the decoration is engraved in
the paste. In either case, whether moulded or engraved, the glaze
accumulating in the hollows helps to accentuate the pattern. The paste as
seen through the glaze where the latter is thin appears white, but where the
glaze is absent, as on the foot, or where it is exposed by bubbles or other

irregularities, the ground is seen to be of a peculiar reddish tint. By this test
the Chinese claim to distinguish the older celadon, the true martabani, from
the later imitations made at King-te-chen. The paste of these later copies is
often artificially coloured on the exposed surface so that they may resemble
the old ware (Hirth, Ancient Porcelain, pp. 21 seq.).
As for the Ko yao, the old ware of Sung times is said to have been first
made in the twelfth century. The Chinese character with which ‘Ko’ is
written means ‘elder brother.’ According to the books there were at this time
at Lung-chuan two brother potters named Chang. The elder brother leaving
the younger Chang to continue in the old ways, started to make a new ware
distinguished by the crackle of its glaze. This was originally a thick, heavy
ware, with the iron-red foot and white paste already noticed, but, as we
have said, the name is now used for a large class of crackle ware with a
glaze of celadon, of greyish white and especially of a yellowish stone
colour. This porcelain with grey and yellowish crackle does not seem to
have been so largely exported as the uncrackled celadon; bowls and jars of
a similar ware have, however, been found in Borneo and in the adjacent
islands.
Chün yao.—It is to this ware that we may trace back the now famous
family of flambé porcelain. Chün yao was already made in early Sung
times, i.e. before the Mongol conquests of the twelfth century, in Honan,
not far from the old capital of Kai-feng Fu. A description in a work of the
seventeenth century leaves no doubt as to its identification. ‘As to this Chün
yao,’ the writer says, ‘a fine specimen should be red as cinnabar, green as
onion-leaves or the plumage of the kingfisher, and purple, brown, and black
like the skin of the egg-plant.’ We have here the description of that
‘transmutation’ or flambé ware of which such magnificent examples were
made at King-te-chen in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and
which has lately been successfully imitated in France. The play of flashing
colour in the glaze was said to have been originally the result of accident,
but we must not attach much importance to statements of this kind. In the
old Sung pieces the clay is less white and fine than in the highly finished
examples made at King-te-chen during the reigns of Kang-he and Yung-
cheng. On the Sung ware we may frequently find a number (from one to
nine) engraved, sometimes more than once, in the paste, and these
characters are carefully copied in the later reproductions. We have here
perhaps the earliest instance of the employment of a mark on porcelain. The

old writers tell us apologetically of the vulgar names given, by way of joke,
it would seem, to these glazes, such as mule’s lungs or pig’s liver—no inapt
comparisons, however, for some of the effects seen in these old wares.
These varied hues were of course obtained from copper in the first place,
though the presence of iron, in both stages of oxidation, may sometimes add
to the variety of the tints.
Kien yao.—This was a dark-coloured ware made at Kien-chou, north-
west of the port of Fuchou. It must not be confused with the well-known
creamy-white ware of Fukien, exported in later days from the same port.
Certain shallow conical cups of this ware, with a vitreous glaze, almost
black, but relieved around the margin with small streaks and spots of a
lighter colour, were especially valued from very early times for the
preparation of powdered tea—nowhere more than in Japan, where an
undoubted specimen of this Kien ware is treasured as a priceless heirloom.
There is an excellent specimen in the British Museum: a careful
examination of this little bowl will give no little aid in understanding what
are some of the qualities that are looked for in China and Japan in these old
glazes. There is a quiet charm in the glassy surface, and an air as of some
quaint natural stone carefully carved and polished rather than of a product
of the potter’s wheel.
Ting yao.—In the Ting yao of the Sung dynasty, as in the case of the
contemporaneous celadon and crackle wares, we have the oldest type of an
important class of porcelain. The earlier specimens have served more than
once as models for famous potters of Ming and later times. It was probably
at Ting-chou, a town in the province of Chihli, to the south-west of Pekin,
that a brilliant white porcelain was first successfully made by the Chinese,
possibly as early as the time of the Tang dynasty; and the name of Ting yao
has remained associated with all pure white wares of a certain quality, even
though made at other places. As in the case of the celadon porcelain, the
decoration, if any, was either in low relief or incised in the paste; but in
opposition to many of the other wares we have mentioned, the Ting
porcelain seems from the first to have been made from a paste of great
fineness, its translucency was at times considerable, and the patterns were
engraved or moulded with much delicacy. The design when engraved is
scarcely visible unless the vessel is held up to the light. The specimens of
Ting ware that survive date probably from Mongol or from Ming times. The
British Museum possesses a remarkable collection of these Ting bowls and

plates. A pair of very thin pure white shallow bowls are noticeable as
having in the centre an inscription finely engraved in minute characters
under the glaze. It is the nien-hao or year-mark of the Emperor Yung-lo
(1402-1424), the first great name among the emperors of the Ming dynasty.
This is perhaps the earliest date-mark with any pretentions to genuineness
that has been found on the Chinese porcelain in our collections. The
decoration, in this case, is formed by a five-clawed dragon faintly engraved
in the paste. These bowls are specimens of the feng or ‘flour’ Ting ware
(also known as Pai or ‘white’ Ting), but most of the Ting plates in the same
collection are of quite another kind of ware, which has a surface like that of
a European soft-paste porcelain—this the Chinese know as the Tu-Ting or
earthy Ting. This latter ware has in fact a soft lead glaze covering a hard
body, and must therefore have required two firings, the first to thoroughly
bake the paste, and a second at a lower temperature to melt the glaze on to
it. Some of the specimens of this Tu-Ting in the British Museum are said to
date from Sung times. I do not know what is the authority for the use of a
lead glaze in China at so early a date. Many of these plates have certainly a
great appearance of age, but this antique look is due in some measure to the
‘weathering’ of the soft glazes on the exposed surfaces. This weathering has
brought into prominence the very graceful decoration of lotus-flowers, but
the surface is often discoloured by stains as of some oily matter which has
apparently found its way under the glaze. The copper bands with which the
edges of many of these plates are bound are mentioned in the old accounts;
those in use in the palace, it is said, were fitted thus with collars to preserve
the tender material.
We must postpone the account of the rival white ware, the creamy
porcelain of Fukien, or later Kien yao, as none of it was made as early as
the time of the Sung dynasty. The Kien yao of that time, as we have seen,
was quite another ware.
We have now mentioned the most important of the classes of Chinese
porcelain that date from early times. We have confined our brief notice to
the varieties of which specimens have survived, laying special stress upon
those kinds which have, as it were, founded a family, and which we can
therefore study in specimens from later ages. The names of many other
wares of both the Sung and Tang periods may be found in Chinese books,
but of these we do not propose to say a word.

The paste of these early wares is rarely of a pure white, and their
translucency is generally very slight, but they are not for that reason to be
classed as stonewares. The materials were probably in all cases derived
from granitic rocks, that is to say, from a more or less decomposed granite
(containing mica and often a certain amount of iron) mixed with some kind
of impure kaolin. Professor Church, in his Cantor Lectures, gives us two
analyses of ‘old Chinese ware,’ which confirm this view. One specimen,
with a white body, was found to contain 75 per cent. of silica, about 18 per
cent. of alumina, and about 5·5 per cent. of alkalis (chiefly potash). The
other, of brownish coloured paste, contained a little less silica, but as much
as 2·5 per cent. of iron. For the roughly prepared material of these old
wares we would prefer the name of proto-porcelain or kaolinic stoneware,
so that there may be no confusion with the true stoneware of Europe, a quite
different material.[33]
In the absence of more ordinary clays in the central and northern parts of
China, some such kaolinic pottery may have been made by the Chinese
from very early times. When in Tang or in earlier days it occurred to them
to attempt to imitate jade or other natural stones, they had the good fortune
to be already using materials that allowed of these experiments being after a
time crowned with success. The important point that still remains unsettled
is at what date they first succeeded in covering a ware of this class with a
vitreous coating. For the date of the first use of glaze in China we can at
present only give a very wide limit, let us say some time between the first
and the fifth century of our era. Very probably it was their acquaintance
with the nature of glass that put them on the right track. This material, it is
said, they first knew of from their intercourse with the later Roman empire.
There is some reason to believe that they acquired at the same time the
secret of its manufacture, though, according to the Chinese, the art was lost
at a later time.[34]
We can now form some idea of how far the art of making porcelain had
advanced at the time when the tide of the Mongol invasion swept over the
country. Our knowledge of the wares made at this time must be derived
chiefly from the imitations of the older porcelain made at a later period, but
in such a conservative country as China this reservation is of no great
importance. We must remember that in all these wares there was no other
decoration than that given by the glaze as applied to the variously moulded
or incised surface of the paste. The nature of the glaze was therefore of pre-

eminent importance. The range of colour, except in the rare flambé vases,
was in the main confined to shades of blue and green, and even of these
colours pronounced tints are rare. All the colours at the command of the
potters of these days were derived from the oxides of iron and copper. And
yet with such simple elements, what an infinite variety! It has been truly
said by a French writer that the beauty of the glaze is the qualité maîtresse
de la céramique, and it is partly a recognition of this claim that has led so
many French and American collectors, of late, to follow the example of the
Chinese and Japanese connoisseurs, and to give so marked a preference to
monochrome porcelains, which owe their charm to the

PLATE IV. CHINESE

merits of the glaze alone. But the specimens we find in these collections are
with but few exceptions of much later date. The price that a fine piece of
Sung ware, above all if it has a good pedigree and comes from a known
collection, has always commanded in China has sufficed, at least until quite
lately, to keep such specimens in their native country.
As we have said, there are very few examples in our public collections
that can with any assurance be attributed to Sung times. In the British
Museum, in the same case with the Kien yao tea-bowl already mentioned, is
a jar some twelve inches in height, with two small handles on the shoulder.
It is of irregular shape and covered with a thick glaze of a pale turquoise
blue, faintly crackled. Close to the mouth is a bright red mark, like a piece
of sealing-wax, due probably to the local partial reduction of the copper.
This beautiful but very archaic-looking jar (Pl. iv.) is attributed to no earlier
date than the later or southern Sung dynasty (1127-1279). Among the large
number of crackle monochrome pieces in the same collection there are
many specimens which a Chinese connoisseur would classify as Ko yao,
and similarly some of the old flambé pieces might be termed Chün yao,
without definitely assigning them to Sung times. The Lung-Chuan celadons
are represented by some early pieces, more than one distinguished by the
red foot. There are some fine plates of old heavy celadon at South
Kensington, not a few purchased in Persia. Here may also be found a
celadon jar cut down at the neck; and the ‘mouth’ thus artificially formed
has been carefully stained of a red colour to imitate the old ware. The
French museums are particularly rich in specimens of old martabani
celadon—I would point especially to several large dishes both at Sèvres and
in the Musée Guimet. But what is perhaps the finest collection in Europe of
celadon and other old wares is now to be seen in the museum at Gotha. It
was brought together by the late Duke of Edinburgh, who added to previous
acquisitions the collection formed in China by Dr. Hirth.

Yuan Dynasty (1280-1368).

Probably at no period during its long history has the Chinese empire
been subjected to such a thorough shaking up, to such a complete upsetting
and reversal of its ancient ways, as during the advance of the Mongols from
the north to the south during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. When they

had at length subdued the whole land, there was a moment during the rule
of the liberal-minded Kublai Khan when the old barriers and prejudices
seemed to have been broken down, and when the Middle Kingdom
appeared to be about to enter the general comity of nations. This is what
gives to Marco Polo’s account of the country, which he visited at the time,
so very ‘un-Chinese’ an air. We hear of Italian friars and French goldsmiths
at the court, and of projected embassies from the Pope. Still closer were the
relations with the Mohammedan people of Western Asia, then ruled by
members of Kublai’s family. Marco Polo, we know, formed part of the
escort of Kublai’s sister, when she travelled by sea to Persia to become the
bride of the Mongol khan of that country; and a predecessor of this latter
ruler, Hulugu, as early as the middle of the thirteenth century, brought over,
it is said, as many as a thousand Chinese artificers and settled them in
Persia.
And yet when scarcely two generations later the degenerate descendants
of Kublai were driven from the imperial throne and replaced by a native
dynasty, what slight permanent trace do we see of all these changes
reflected in the arts of the Middle Kingdom! No doubt, on looking closely,
we should find that a change had taken place during these years: new
materials had been brought in, new forms and new decorations applied to
the metal ware and the pottery of the Chinese. It is in connection with these
two arts especially (and we may add to them the designs on textile fabrics)
that we find so many points of interest in the mutual influence of the
civilisations of China and Persia at this time. We must remember that in the
thirteenth century the craftsman of Persia, as the inheritor of both Saracenic
and older traditions, was in many respects ahead of his rival artist in China.
As far as the potter’s art was concerned this was the first meeting of two
contrasted schools, which between them cover pretty well the whole field of
ceramics—of that part at least of the field in which the glaze is the principal
element in the decoration.[35]
The Persian ware of this time was the culminating example of an art that
had been handed down from the Egyptians and the Assyrians. As a rule,
among these races, the baser nature of the paste had been concealed by a
more or less opaque coating either of a fine clay or ‘slip,’ or of a glaze
rendered non-transparent by the addition of tin; it is on this coating that the
decoration is painted, to be covered subsequently (in the first case at least,
that of the slip ware) by a coating of glaze. It is to this large class, for the

most part to the latter or stanniferous division, that nearly all the famous
wares of the European renaissance belong, not only the Spanish and Italian
majolica but the enamelled fayence of France and Holland as well. It was
with the latter two wares that at a later date the porcelain of China was
destined to come into competition. Each of these ceramic schools, the
Eastern porcelain and the Western fayence, might in certain points claim
advantages over the other, advantages both of a practical and of an æsthetic
nature. For example, the glory of the Persian fayence of that day lay in its
application to architecture, in the brilliant coating of tiles that covered the
walls and the domes of the mosques and dwellings both inside and out. The
Chinese have never succeeded in making tiles of any size with their
porcelain. When used for the decoration of buildings the porcelain, or rather
the earthenware, is always in the form of solid, moulded bricks.
But there is another matter with which the Chinese who visited Western
Asia at that time cannot fail to have been struck—with the materials, I
mean, at the command of the Persians, for the application of colour both
under and over the glaze. Of the decorations over the glaze the most
important were those given by their famous metallic lustres. This lustre, we
now know, was the result of an ingenious process by which a film of
copper, or sometimes of silver, was developed on the surface of the glaze.
The Chinese have never attempted anything of the kind, in part because
such a method of adornment was foreign to their notions of what was
fitting. For we must bear in mind that the influence of the literary tradition
in China has always tended towards simplicity of means in their decorative
arts, and has been opposed to anything like an ostentatious display of
expensive materials. Any marked infringement of this sentiment, even on
the part of an emperor, has always called forth a protest from the censors.
Another cause which hindered the adoption of the lustre decoration by the
Chinese may be found, no doubt, in the difficulties of its practical
application. At that time the processes of the muffle-stove for decoration
over the glaze were quite unknown to them.[36] But the Saracens, in Western
Asia, were already in possession of another means of decorating their ware.
This they found in the use of cobalt, especially as a material for painting a
design on the paste before the application of the glaze. We find this colour
at times on the tiles that lined their prayer-niches; these indeed date from a
somewhat later time. But there is another variety of Saracenic ware of
which a few specimens have survived. I refer to the vases and bowls

covered with a thick alkaline glaze, and decorated, in part at least, under the
glaze with a design of black lines and some rude patches of blue. These rare
vases were formerly classed as Siculo-Moorish, but later research has
proved most of them to be of Persian or perhaps rather of Syrian or
Mesopotamian origin. They appear to be the work of thirteenth century
potters, and some of them may be of even earlier date.[37]
When we consider that there is no evidence of the use of cobalt by the
Chinese for the decoration of their porcelain during Sung times, that indeed
the use of colour apart from that of the glaze as a means of decoration
appears to have been then unknown; but that, on the other hand, not long
after the turmoil of the Mongol invasion and domination—a period during
which the two countries, China and Persia, were so closely connected—we
find the use of cobalt as a decoration sous couverte firmly established, we
may, I think, regard it as not improbable that it was from the Persians that
the Chinese learned the new method of decoration.[38]
The influence of the Saracenic art of Western Asia is indeed now for the
first time to be seen in other directions, and we shall find it cropping up
here and there during the whole of the following Ming period. It was the
source of many new forms which we see now for the first time in China: the
graceful water-vessels, for instance, with long necks and curved spouts,
copied from the Arab Ibraik. Again, we find this influence at times in the
motifs of the conventional floral patterns found on Ming porcelain, though
these patterns, indeed, are always mere counterchanges, as it were, upon a
field of an unmistakable Chinese stamp (Pl. vi.). All these changes were
doubtless regarded as anathema by the Chinese censors, who reminded the
rash innovators that the great men of old were content with simple materials
and forms, and that they in their wisdom rejected all such meretricious
ornament. For it was seriously maintained that had they thought it desirable,
these old sages could have commanded all the resources of the later potter,
not only the larger field he could draw from for his designs and colours, but
the improved paste of his porcelain as well.
On the other hand, the Chinese influence at this time on Persian art was
small. By a careful search we may find at times a dragon or a phœnix amid
unmistakable Chinese clouds on the spandrel above the arch of a Persian
prayer-niche of the fourteenth century, or forming the centre of a star-
shaped tile. But the great invasion of Chinese wares and Chinese schemes
of decoration belongs, as far as the fictile art of the country is concerned, to

a later period, that of Shah Abbas in the early years of the seventeenth
century.
It is not unlikely that in China the Western influence did not make much
way until the time of the early Ming emperors, and that it was due more
immediately to the growing commercial intercourse with the Persian Gulf,
but this intercourse was itself fostered by the events of the Mongol
invasion.
There is very little to be said of the porcelain made during the time of the
Mongol or Yuan dynasty, and we have few specimens that can be definitely
assigned to that period. The name is still given in Pekin to a rude, somewhat
heavy ware, with a thick glaze of mingled tints, among which a shade of
lavender with speckles of red predominates. This is but a modification of
the Chün yao of Sung times, and belongs in a general way to the class of
‘transmutation’ wares—those in which the colours depend on the partial
reduction of the oxides of iron and copper in the glaze. Specimens of this
ware that claim to be of Chinese origin are often found in Japan, where they
are much in favour for use as flower vases, but neither in that country nor in
China have the pieces we meet with much claim to any great antiquity.
There is only one specimen in the Bushell manuscript that is attributed
by Tzu-ching to the Yuan period—this is a little vase of white ware
decorated with dragons faintly engraved in the paste under the glaze.
This white ware, generally classed as Ting, is indeed in many of our
books on porcelain considered to be especially characteristic of the Mongol
dynasty, but I cannot find any definite confirmation of this. The finer pieces
of plain white seem to be generally attributed by the Chinese rather to the
beginning of the next dynasty. The little white plate in the Dresden
Museum, said to have been ‘brought back from the East by a crusader,’ has
no claim to such an early date.[39]

C H A P T E R VI

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued).

The Ming Dynasty (1368-1643).

I T was in the course of the three centuries during which the Ming dynasty
ruled in China that the greatest advance was made in the manufacture of
porcelain. When, however, we come to look a little more closely, we find
that this long period may be shortened by nearly a hundred years. Before
the accession of Yung-lo (1402), and after the death of Wanli (1619), the
times were little favourable to the arts of peace, and even in this shorter
period of two centuries there were intervals, indeed whole reigns, of which
there is little to report.
The points of chief importance to remember in connection with this
dynasty are—1. That not later than the beginning of the fifteenth century
the employment of the oxides of copper and cobalt for decoration under the
glaze was coming into general use. To this, or perhaps to an earlier date, we
must assign the beginnings of the ware that we in England are wont to
consider the most important of all, the great family of ‘blue and white’
porcelain. 2. That probably about the same time, or soon after, the ‘painted
glazes,’ as we have called them, were introduced. In this ware the colours
required for the decoration—the palette was a very restricted one—were
painted directly on the biscuit, the piece having been previously fired; it
was then re-fired at a moderate heat. 3. That at a later period, probably
about the middle of the sixteenth century, the employment of enamel
colours above the glaze was introduced, probably under European
influence.
It is the blue and white that we are above all accustomed to associate
with the Ming period. But this is not the Chinese point of view. If we
consult the Bushell manuscript (see chap. v.) we find that Tzu-ching,
towards the end of the sixteenth century, had in his collection thirty-nine
pieces which he attributed to the reigning dynasty, but of these only five or
six would be classed by us as ‘blue and white’; at least equal importance
was given to those decorated with copper-red under the glaze, and even

more specimens belong to the class of painted glazes. These latter are
chiefly little objects—pen-rests, rouge-pots, and small wine-jars moulded to
represent plant and animal forms, the gourd or again the persimmon being
great favourites. We must not confuse these early specimens, dating mostly
from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, with the somewhat similar
objects so much sought after by the French collectors in the eighteenth
century, which belong for the most part to the contemporary famille verte;
on these the decoration is given for the most part by enamels painted over
the glaze. Still it is from some of these little magots that we can perhaps
form the best idea of the coloured porcelain so prized by Tzu-ching, but of
which we are unable to point to any specimens in our collections.
In connection with these painted glazes—for it undoubtedly belongs to
this class—it may be well to say something of a very decorative ware of
which the origin is probably to be placed in early Ming times. The colours
are distinctly those of the demi grand feu, and in this ware we have the
earliest instance of the use of these colours. This porcelain occurs most
frequently in the shape of vases of baluster outline with contracted necks
and small mouths, or sometimes of the more ordinary oil-jar shape, with
wide mouths. We may distinguish two types of this ware. In the first the
decoration is given by means of a low relief of beads and of ribs
surrounding countersunk cloisons. The field between these cloisons is of a
deep blue passing into a blue-black, and the cloisons themselves are filled
with a wash of turquoise or straw-yellow. Chains of pearls in festoon
surround the neck, and from these hang pendeloques of various Buddhist
emblems. On the body of these vases the decoration often consists of lotus-
plants arising from conventional waves.[40] In the second type the turquoise
blue predominates, an impure pale manganese is added, and the jars are
often built up of an open-work trellis of bars. Both the turquoise and
aubergine purple porcelain of the Kang-he period, as well as the Japanese
Kishiu ware, may possibly be traced back to a Ming porcelain of this class.
There are specimens of all these wares in the British Museum and at South
Kensington. In the Salting collection is a jar of the cloisonné type, the blue-
black ground covered with a skin of thin glaze of a dull surface. This jar
was formerly the property of a Japanese collector (Pl. ii.).[41]
The colours applied under the glaze are confined to cobalt blue and
copper red. The latter when fine in tint was greatly prized by the Chinese,
and we are informed that in the most brilliant specimens the colour was

given by ‘powdered rubies from the West.’ It was, however, a treacherous
colour to use, and after the period of Hsuan-te (1425-1435), which was
famous for its ruby-red,

PLATE V. CHINESE

it fell into comparative disuse and was displaced in a measure at a later date
by a more manageable iron red. The use of the copper sub-oxide to obtain a
red, sous couverte, was, however, revived in the time of Kang-he. On
examples in European collections this red, when used alone or in
connection with blue, is generally of a rather poor maroon colour, and it has
not found much favour with us. The colour was often thus applied to the
painting of fish, floating, it may be, among blue water-weeds. We see it at
its best as a monochrome on some little bowls, enlivened with a floral
design in gold, in the British Museum. These cups and some similar ones at
Dresden undoubtedly date from Ming times; the ruby tint seen through a
brilliant glaze has never been equalled in later days. With these we may
compare certain little apple-green bowls similarly decorated with gold. One
of these in a silver-gilt mounting of the early sixteenth century is in the
Gold Room at the British Museum (Pl. v.).

‘Blue and White’ Porcelain.

What we somewhat vaguely call ‘blue and white,’ that is porcelain
decorated under the glaze with designs painted with cobalt blue, has always

formed the most important class in the eyes of European collectors, at least
of those of England and Holland. This preference has been even more
marked with the people of India and Persia, and no wonder, for no
combination of colour more suggestive of coolness could be imagined. It
has thus come about that this class of ware, more than any other, has been
made with the direct object of exportation. This blue and white porcelain of
China and Japan, which has found its way into so many lands both of
Europe and Asia, has for centuries had the profoundest influence upon the
native wares of these countries, whether of porcelain or of fayence.
In China, by the introduction of this process of freely painting with a
brush upon the surface of the paste, the potters art was for the first time
brought into contact with that of the painter, and thus fell under new
influences. The artists of China at that time were divided into many schools,
but what we may call the literary or dilettante influence was predominant,
and this influence is reflected in the subjects treated on Ming porcelain—
subjects which, as usual in China, were handed on to the ceramic artists of
the next dynasty. The earliest decoration in blue and white in no way
followed, as far as we know, the hierated types of the old bronze ware. Such
motifs we do indeed sometimes see repeated on porcelain, but only on
pieces that may safely be attributed to a much later date, especially to the
pseudo-archaic revival of Yung-cheng’s time (1722-35).
There is no class of Chinese porcelain to which it is more difficult to
assign even an approximate date than to this blue and white ware. We may
say at once that the nien-hao, or the characters giving the name of the
dynasty and the emperor, so often found inscribed on the base, are in the
vast majority of cases of no value for fixing the date, and this is especially
true when the name of a Ming emperor is thus found. What is more, these
marks, as far as we can judge (from the knowledge we now possess derived
from other sources), do not, as we might have expected, even help us in
giving hints of the style prevailing at the period indicated by the date. To
take but one example, the reign-mark of Cheng-hua (1464-87) is the one
most frequently found on the finest pieces of blue and white (in the Salting
collection, for instance), but by far the greater number of the pieces so
marked undoubtedly date from the beginning of the eighteenth century. On
the other hand, the Chinese books all agree in telling us that this Cheng-hua
period was noted for a decline in the excellence of the blue, but on the other
hand was pre-eminent for its coloured decoration. It was rather the earlier

Hsuan-te period (1425-35) that was renowned for the brilliancy of its blue.
These statements of the Chinese authorities are confirmed by an analysis of
the Ming specimens illustrated in the Bushell manuscript. The Japanese,
perhaps a little more rationally, give the preference to the reigns of Hsuan-te
and Yung-lo (1402-24), for the date-marks of these emperors (‘Sentoku’ and
‘Yeiraku’ in the Japanese reading) are to be read on the commonest modern
blue and white in domestic use in that country.
This is a point that cannot be too strongly dwelt upon. Perhaps if a little
more of the care and research that have been devoted to the reading of these
nien-hao and other inscriptions on Chinese porcelain had been earlier
directed to a careful examination of the glazes and enamels, and to
questions of technique generally, the misconceptions that so long prevailed
as to the dating and classification of Oriental porcelain would have been
sooner dispelled.
But what means have we then for settling the date of a piece of Chinese
blue and white ware? What criterion is there for distinguishing between
specimens of early Ming, late Ming, or Manchu times?—or indeed between
those of Chinese and Japanese origin? That we even now possess no very
exact criterion is shown by the wide difference of opinion so often found in
individual cases. If we are to form our judgment from the rare extant pieces
of blue and white known to have been imported into Europe in the sixteenth
century, we must regard the Ming ware as distinguished by a certain
irregularity of surface, seen best by side-reflected lights; the pieces are
generally moulded, and the marks of the lines of junction of the moulds are
often to be traced on the surface; the paste, too, is generally very thick, and
sometimes shows gaping fissures at the margin. The drawing of the design
is somewhat hasty and summary, although at times distinguished by a
freshness of handling and by a certain caligraphic freedom. But we must not
draw too hasty an inference from the few specimens in our European
collections, many of which must have been made, as we shall see later on,
at a period of temporary decline; nor are we justified in regarding mere
articles of commerce, as most of these specimens undoubtedly were, as
representative of the higher artistic products of the time.
The blue in these early pieces is generally of a full tint but not of any
remarkable quality. There are, however, to be found a few specimens,
heavily moulded indeed and of irregular contour, decorated with cobalt blue
of a full sapphire tint. Of this class there are one or two brilliant specimens

both in the British Museum and at South Kensington. In these and in other
Ming wares the surface of the glaze is often dulled, and this is not always
the result of minute scratches, for sometimes a process of devitrification
appears to have set in.[42] Another class of Ming ware is distinguished by a
decoration delicately painted in a pale blue tint, and it was this style that
was copied by the Japanese in their Mikawaji ware of the seventeenth
century.
It is to later Ming times that we must attribute the bulk of the rough
heavy ware of which so much is found in India.[43] These are generally
large plates and bowls, often discoloured from having been used for
cooking purposes. The decoration is hastily executed

PLATE VI. CHINESE, BLUE AND WHITE WARE

in a dull indigo blue (derived of course from cobalt, as in other cases), and
the outlines are often accentuated by black lines. Many fine specimens of
this picturesque ware, from the collection of Mrs. Halsey, were shown in
the exhibition of blue and white ware at the Burlington Fine Arts Club in
1895. It was claimed for one large vase that it came from the palace of the
Moguls at Agra, and that it had been presented to Jehangir by the Chinese
emperor Wan-li (1572-1619). It is often stated that this class of ware was
made at some factory in the south of China, probably in the neighbourhood
of Canton, the port from which doubtless most of it was exported. As yet,

however, no evidence, as far as I am aware, for such a factory has been
brought forward, and no definite locality indicated. The statement made by
the Abbé Raynal, about a factory at Shao-king Fu, rests probably upon a
misconception.
There are several specimens of blue and white in England, the metal
mountings of which date from the early seventeenth or even from the
sixteenth century. Of these the most famous are the four pieces from
Burleigh House (now belonging to Mr. Pierpont Morgan), which are
believed to have been in the possession of the Cecil family from the time of
Queen Elizabeth. One of these bears the date-mark of Wan-li, the
contemporary of that queen. This ware is not particularly fine, the surfaces
are irregular, and all the pieces are apparently moulded (Pl. xxviii.).
This subject, however, of the early presence of Chinese porcelain in
other lands we shall return to in a later chapter.
So far, then, with such imperfect lights as are at our command, we have
attempted to follow up the history of porcelain, and so far, say up to the
middle of the sixteenth century, China is practically the only country with
which we are concerned. Some fair imitations of celadon, the martabani of
Oriental commerce, had probably by this time been made in Siam and
perhaps elsewhere, and the Japanese were already in a sporadic way
experimenting with imported and native clays. But up to the sixteenth
century the Chinese had practically the monopoly of the art, and as we have
seen they had at that time the command of three processes of decoration—
that is by monochrome glazes, by painting with glazes of a few simple
colours on the biscuit, and finally by means of cobalt blues and copper reds
painted on the surface of the raw paste.
Not but that some attempts may have already been made to apply
coloured decoration over the glaze—the next and final step in the history of
porcelain. There are some passages in contemporary Chinese books, giving
descriptions of elaborate subjects painted in many colours on porcelain of
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, which it would be difficult to apply to
our class of painted glazes. Thus—to take a pronounced instance from an
unexceptionable source—the miniature wine-cups, No. 59 of the Bushell
manuscript, are attributed by Tzu-ching to the reign of Cheng-hua (1464-
87), and he describes them thus—‘They are painted in enamel colours’ (so
Dr. Bushell translates the original) ‘with flowers and insects; ... the

cockscomb, the narcissus and other flowers, the flying dragon-fly and
crawling mantis are minutely painted after life in green, yellow, and
crimson enamel.’ (This, by the way, is a combination of colours which it
must have been difficult to apply at one firing with the pigments known at
that time.) And yet in the absence of any specimen of enamelled ware
(using the word enamel in its restricted sense for a decoration applied over
the glaze) that can with certainty be attributed to so early a period, it will be
safer to postpone the date of the introduction of this decoration, sur
couverte, for another hundred years.
It will be remembered that the distinctive feature of this decoration with
enamels is the use of an easily fusible silicate, containing much lead—in
fact a kind of flint glass. A glass of this description is capable of being
stained by the addition of small quantities of certain metallic oxides, some
of which would not stand the heat requisite for the firing of the porcelain.
This, in fact, is the application to porcelain of the arts of the glass-stainer
and of the enameller, arts already at this time fully developed in the West.
For once the Chinese authorities all agree in finding in an exotic and indeed
Western art the origin of their enamelled porcelain. When, however, we
attempt to interpret their statements we are landed in an even more than
customary chaos—so many are the different readings for the names of
foreign countries and for technical processes.
Let us then consider for a moment what the materials were that the
Chinese had to draw from—whether from Arab or other sources.
Putting aside the application of stained glass to windows, for specimens
of this art are not easily exported, these may be summed up as, first, the
enamelled glass of the Saracens, and secondly, the cloisonnés and
champlevés enamels of the Byzantines and other Western nations.
As to the first—the application of coloured and easily fusible enamels to
the surface of glass, which was then exposed to a second firing—this
process had been used by the Arabs for the decoration of their mosque
lamps and other vessels probably as early as the twelfth century, and this
was an art identical in its system with the application of the same colours to
the surface of porcelain. The beauty of the effect cannot have failed to have
struck the Chinese if they had had any opportunity of seeing the finer
specimens. But the material was fragile, and apart from a statement by M.
Scherer that glass was exported from Aleppo to China,[44] I cannot find in

the accounts of the Arab trade of the time any record of such ware being
imported into China.
On the other hand, we know that enamels on metal are first mentioned in
the Ming annals about the middle of the fifteenth century. They take their
name of Cheng-tai enamels from the emperor who reigned at that period;
but the proper Chinese term for such enamels is Folang chien yao—‘the
inlaid ware of Folang.’ Julien interpreted these words ‘Porcelaines à
incrustations (ornées d’émaux) de France,’ and Dr. Hirth carries us to
Bethlehem! But the word Folang is probably the same as the term Folin or
Fulen, used as early as the sixth century for the Roman empire of the East,
and it may possibly be connected with the Greek πόλις (cf. Stamboul = Εἰς
τὴν πόλιν).[45] It is definitely stated by a later Chinese writer that the same
colours are employed by both the enameller on metal and the decorator of
porcelain.
If we examine the colours found on both the wares to which we have
tentatively traced back the enamelled porcelain of the Chinese—the
enamels on glass on the one hand, and those on metal on the other—taking
in each case the earlier specimens as examples, we find on the mosque
lamps from Cairo little except a deep blue generally used as a ground for a
design which is outlined in an opaque iron red. On the famous flask from
Würzburg, now in the British Museum, for which a ‘Mesopotamian’ origin
of the thirteenth century is claimed, a turquoise blue relieved by gilding is
the predominant note; there is also a sparing use of yellow, of an opaque
white, and, what is especially interesting, of a fine pinkish red, which is
possibly obtained from gold. (The way in which this colour is shaded into
the opaque white reminds us of the similar use of the rouge d’or in later
times in China.)
If, on the other hand, we turn to the earlier Chinese enamels on metal,
the so-called Ching-tai vases, attributed to the fifteenth century, we find
among the colours used an opaque iron red, a yellow, an opaque white, and
finally two kinds of blue, a turquoise and a full deep blue that looks like a
cobalt colour.[46]
Some time, then, during the sixteenth century, whether before or after the
accession of Wan-li (1572), the Chinese began to decorate the surface of
their porcelain with jewel-like enamels appliqués to the glaze. At first,
apparently, these colours were confined to three: a copper green, a yellow

generally of a buff tint, probably containing antimony as well as iron, and a
purple derived from manganese. These are the San-tsai or three colours of
the Chinese writers, and it will be seen that they differ from the colour triad
of our ‘painted glazes’ (painted, that is, on biscuit and reheated in the demi
grand feu) in that the copper silicate is of a turquoise blue in the latter, and
in the former of a full leafy green. The Chinese authorities further tell us
that a second scheme of decoration was given by the Wu-tsai or the five
colours which were made up by the three already mentioned, with the
addition of an opaque red derived from the sesqui-oxide of iron (otherwise
known as hæmatite, bole or red ochre),[47] and finally of a cobalt blue, sous
couverte, surviving as it were from the earlier blue and white ware, for, as
we have mentioned, the use of the blue as an enamel over the glaze belongs
to a later period.
So much for the teaching of the Chinese books; but when, attacking the
subject from the other side, we examine the specimens of enamelled ware
which for one reason or another—the coarseness and thickness of the paste,
the moulded form, and the irregular surface—we should be inclined to
attribute to the Ming dynasty, we are led to classify these earlier examples
somewhat as follows:—
1. On a white ground a design, often, it would seem, of textile origin,
roughly painted in an opaque red (like sealing-wax), with the addition of a
leafy green and very rarely of a little yellow. This is a class of decoration
much imitated in Japan at a later date, especially by the artist potters of
Kioto and at Inuyama.
2. The same colours with the addition of blue, sous couverte. The design
often takes the form of figures in a landscape, the whole broadly treated.
The earliest type of the Imari ware (apart from the Kakiyemon) seems to be
based on this scheme of decoration.
Both these classes are distinguished by the white ground, the sparing use
of yellow, and the almost complete absence of manganese purple and
turquoise blue.
3. A transparent enamel of leafy green, yellow and manganese purple
painted on in washes so as to cover the whole ground. When with these
colours we find the outline drawn in black, we have the basis of a large part
of the famille verte. On the other hand, it is this class of decoration which
probably carries on the tradition of the early Ming ware, sometimes

described as ‘enamelled,’ but more probably all of it painted on the biscuit
and fired in the demi grand feu.
In China it would seem that these enamelled wares

PLATE VII. CHINESE

were at first treated with a certain disfavour, if not with contempt, at least
by the more cultivated classes. During Ming times, though porcelain thus
decorated was doubtless made at King-te-chen, it was, at least up to the
latter part of the reign of Wan-li, chiefly made in private factories. In fact
we find a censor, in the reign of that emperor, protesting against the use of

enamel colours (the wu-tsai) in the porcelain supplied to the palace
(Bushell, p. 241).
We have now sketched out a description of the various kinds of porcelain
made during the course of the Ming dynasty, and before going on at once to
an account of the period associated with King-te-chen and the great rulers
of the Manchu dynasty, it will be well to extract a few notes on points that
may interest us from the somewhat voluminous records and descriptions of
the porcelain of Ming times found in the books of the Chinese authorities.
[48]

Yung-lo (1402-24).[49]—This great emperor, who sent out ships for
conquest and for commerce as far as Ceylon, is for us especially associated
with a white eggshell porcelain of which there are two remarkable
specimens in the British Museum (see above, p. 67). Bowls of this thinness
must have been pared down on the lathe, after throwing on the wheel, in the
manner described on p. 22, until a mere translucent ghost of the original
body was left, so that the name to-t’ai or ‘bodiless,’ by which this ware is
known to the Chinese, is not inappropriate. The earliest blue and white
porcelain of which there is any definite record was made in this reign, but
the evidence for this is, of course, purely ‘documentary.’ The quality of the
blue is said to have been surpassed only by that of the Hsuan-te and Cheng-
hua periods.
Hsuan-te (1425-35).—The short reign of this emperor is connected in
the mind of the Chinese with the finest works both of the metal worker and
the potter. This period gave its name to the famous pale bronze so admired
in later days by the Japanese.[50] The blue of the Hsuan-te period,
unsurpassed in later times, we are told, was derived from Arab sources, for
the famous Su-ni-po and Su-ma-li blues are first mentioned at this time. The
word Su-ma-li has been compared with the low Latin Smaltum, the prepared
silicate of cobalt used by the mediæval glass-stainers, but from the
description of this substance in the Chinese books, it would seem rather to
have been of the nature of a native ore. When, however, we read in the
same books of the origin of the brilliant red for which this reign was equally
famous, how it was prepared from ‘powdered rubies of the West,’ we see
how little reliance we can place in their accounts. This red, derived of
course from the sub-oxide of copper, was applied either to cover the whole
surface, as in the little bowls mentioned on p. 81 (‘painted on the biscuit,’
says Dr. Bushell, but is this necessarily so?), or for the painting of a design

in this case both alone and in combination with blue. We hear also of large
jars and garden seats of a coarse porcelain, with dark blue and turquoise
ground and decoration of ribbed cloisons, which were first made in this
reign. Of this class we have spoken at length when treating of the ‘painted
glazes.‘[51] Of what nature the decoration in five colours, which is also
referred to this reign, may have been, it is difficult to say—we have no
specimen so painted that we can assign to so old a period, but in this
connection we certainly must not think of enamels painted over the glaze.
Cheng-tung reigned from 1435 to 1449; he was then captured by the
Mongols, and during the five years of his imprisonment his brother Cheng-
tai reigned in his stead. When Cheng-tung returned from his captivity he
adopted a fresh name.[52] This is the only instance of a double nien-hao in
later Chinese history. We hear of Cheng-tai in connection with the
introduction of enamels on metal, but for the history of porcelain both
reigns are a blank.
Cheng-hua (1464-87).—This is a name familiar to collectors. It is found
more frequently than any other on highly finished vases dating really from
the eighteenth century. Strangely enough, this is the favourite mark on the
finest blue and white of this later time, although, as we have already pointed
out, the Chinese books tell us that, the sources of the foreign cobalt blue
being in Cheng-hua’s time exhausted, more attention was given to coloured
decoration. This was the time of the famous ‘chicken-cups,’ for which such
fabulous sums were given. These cups are described as decorated with the
wu-tsai or five colours; and the subject painted on them, a hen and chickens
by the side of a flowering peony-bush, reminds one of the enamelled egg-
shell cups of Kien-lung (1735-95). The Ming cups were copied, we are told,
at that time; but it is difficult to connect this early ware, of which
unfortunately we possess no specimen, with the delicate enamel decoration
of the famille rose.[53]
Hung-chi (1487-1505).—This name appears especially on the back of
bowls in association with a yellow glaze of various shades, and, in
agreement this time with the material evidence, the Chinese books mention
this yellow as a speciality of the reign. Not that we can regard all yellow
ware with this mark as even of this dynasty; like other Ming ware it was
imitated in the eighteenth century. The yellow varies from the pale brown of
the raw chestnut to a full gamboge tint. There is at South Kensington a dish
or shallow bowl with a full yellow glaze; on the back beside the nien-hao of

Hung-chi, a Persian inscription and a date corresponding to the sixteenth
century has been cut in the paste.
Cheng-te (1505-21).—The decoration of blue on a white ground is said
to have been revived in this reign. A new material, the hui-ching[54] or
Mohammedan blue, was obtained from Yun-nan. In connection with this,
we can point to a curious collection of bronze and porcelain, with both
Arabic and Chinese inscriptions, made probably for Mohammedan Chinese.
These objects were obtained by the late Sir A. W. Franks from Pekin, and
are now in the British Museum. Among them there are several pieces of
blue and white with the Cheng-te year-mark.[55] On one of these pieces the
Persian word for ‘writing-case’ forms part of the decoration (Pl. viii.). It is
in this reign that we hear for the first time of the oppression exercised by
the court officials upon the potters of King-te-chen, and now also we find
the court eunuchs in the highest positions,—the great days of the Ming
dynasty are already passed.
Kia-tsing (1521-66).—The name of this emperor is often found on blue
and white porcelain, and it is a favourite one with the Japanese imitators.
Some

PLATE VIII. CHINESE, BLUE AND WHITE WARE

specimens in our collections, of a fine sapphire blue (the colour is indeed
often inclined to run), may perhaps be referred to this reign. The demands
for the court were very extensive, and if we are to trust the list of articles
quoted by Dr. Bushell from the Fou-liang annals, the porcelain made for the
palace during this period was, with the exception of a little of that with a
brown ground, confined to blue and white ware.
Lung-king (1566-72).—The bad reputation of this emperor is reflected in
the porcelain of the time—indeed the erotic character of the decoration is
the one point noted in the annals. The mark of this reign is rarely found.
There is, however, in the British Museum a large square support or plinth,
decorated with a blue of magnificent sapphire hue, which bears the Lung-
king nien-hao.
Wan-li (1572-1619).—Of the porcelain surviving from Ming times, a
very large proportion probably belongs to this reign. It was now that the
European trade was beginning to reach large proportions, and the
exportation both to India and Persia was greater than ever. It was a time
above all for the manufacture of large pieces, but we must not look any
longer for the refinement and scholarly traditions of earlier Ming periods.
Dr. Bushell tells us that large bowls of the Wan-li ware are still in use in the
shops and stalls of Pekin. For us the difficulty is to distinguish the blue and
white ware of this reign from that made for exportation during the next half
century, a period during which the annals of the Chinese authorities are a
blank. The reign of Wan-li is above all the period during which the use of
enamel colours became prevalent, and now, for the first time, some of the
ware made for the palace was, in spite of the protests of the censor, so
decorated. But we will reserve what we have to say on the origin of Chinese
enamelled ware until we come to treat of the progress made in the reign of
Kang-he.

C H A P T E R VII

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued).

The Manchu or Tsing Dynasty (1643—).

K ANG-HE.—After the death of Wan-li, in 1619, there is a long gap in
the history of Chinese porcelain. Some twenty years later, the last
emperor of the native dynasty was driven out by the Manchu Tatars,
and the dynasty which still reigns in the country was founded. But neither
during the reign of the first emperor of the new Tsing or ‘Pure’ dynasty, nor
indeed during the first part of the long reign of his great successor Kang-he
(1661-1722), was much attention given to the imperial factory at King-te-
chen. The early years of Kang-he’s reign were occupied with quelling the
last efforts of the native Chinese party. We may date the revival of active
work from the appointment of Tsang Ying-hsuan,[56] in the year 1683, to the
post of superintendent at the porcelain works. It was then, after an interval
of more than sixty years—almost a blank in the history of Chinese
porcelain—that the great renaissance set in, and we may date from that time
the beginning of the last great stage in that history—a stage which was to
last for another hundred years. During that period a succession of able and
enthusiastic men were in charge of the imperial works. With the support of
the great emperors who ruled in China for three long generations, they were
able to bring the manufacture of porcelain to a point of perfection reached
neither before nor since, and to produce that wonderful series of vases,
bowls, and plates that now fill the museums and private collections of
Europe and America.
It will perhaps be better to carry on our hasty historical sketch down to
the period of decline at the end of the eighteenth century, before turning to
the letters of the Père D’Entrecolles and his account of the great city of the
potter—King-te-chen. We shall then be in a better position to understand
the almost endless series of different wares that were turned out from the
kilns of that town in the eighteenth century. We can finally make a rapid
survey of the porcelain of China, picking up many threads that have been
dropped in the course of our historical review.

We have seen that the Chinese authorities when describing the coloured
ware of the Ming period speak of two ‘triads’ of colours. One, the
turquoise, purple and yellow group, we have identified with the ware
painted on the biscuit and reheated in the demi grand feu; while the other,
the green, purple and yellow class may be regarded as one of the earliest
forms of true enamel or muffle decoration. These two classes were now in
the earlier days of Kang-he brought to greater perfection, and as by this
time we have come to a period when the finer wares began to be largely
exported direct to Europe, we meet with many specimens of these wares in
our collections.
In the first of these groups the Turquoise is the predominant colour—
indeed it is often found alone (Pl. ix.). As a monochrome ware it is
distinguished by a fine crackle, which is always present but is often only to
be seen by a close examination. How much it is sought after by collectors is
shown by the fact mentioned by Dr. Bushell, that in the Walters collection
there are more than a hundred specimens of this monochrome blue, and of
these the majority probably date from the reign of Kang-he. A combination
of this turquoise with aubergine purple derived from manganese was in
favour at this time not only for the little magots and for small vases, but
also for larger decorative pieces as well as for tables and stands for other
objects. It was above all this combination that was copied by Zengoro and
others for the ‘Oniwa’ ware of the Princes of Kishiu, and some of this
Japanese porcelain is very difficult to distinguish from the Chinese original.
The aubergine purple, like the turquoise, always finely crackled, is seldom
found alone in Chinese examples, but this is often the case on the Kishiu
ware. The third colour of the triad, the yellow, is quite subordinate; there
were evidently great difficulties in producing a fine tint under the
conditions of the demi grand feu. In like manner in the early Ming ware,
that with the ribbed cloisons, the yellow was only used sparingly for the
petals of a flower or for a chain of pearls. It should be noted that this ware
of Kang-he differs from its Ming predecessor in the absence of the dark
blue glaze.
Famille Verte.—In the first triad, that of the demi grand feu, the
turquoise blue, as we have seen, is the predominant colour. Its place is taken
in the triad of the muffle-stove by the green, which in many shades of
intensity, but with a prevailing leafy hue, has come to be especially
associated with the enamelled wares of this reign.[57]

PLATE IX. CHINESE

It would be possible to make many subdivisions of this class—the well-
known famille verte. In the majority of cases the ground is covered by a
wash of one of the colours, so as to resemble a painted glaze. It will,
however, always be found on close examination that the wash is
superimposed on the true colourless glaze, which may generally be seen at
the mouth and foot. A green of greater or lesser strength, sometimes quite a
thin wash, is the commonest colour for this ground; at other times it is of a
pale straw colour, or, more rarely, a purple of a poor uncertain hue.[58]
It will be observed that in the muffle-stove the fine aubergine purple that
we noted in the class last described is rarely to be obtained from
manganese. In all cases the white ground is only left sparingly as a reserve
for the petals of flowers and for the faces. In addition to these colours—the
green, the yellow, and the purple—which are for the most part used as
washes, a dark brown or black is largely employed for outlining the details
of the decoration, as well as for tempering the colour of the background by
covering it with scrolls and spirals.
When this decoration is applied to the small moulded pieces—the
magots, for instance, so admired by the French collectors of the eighteenth
century—we have a class of objects to which the descriptions (in the

Bushell manuscript and elsewhere) of the decorated ware of the fifteenth
and early sixteenth centuries would seem to apply. As we have seen, it is at
the least very doubtful whether these early pieces were decorated over the
glaze, but in a general view it cannot fail to strike one that the Kang-he
decoration, in which washes of colour[59] play so important a part, belongs
to an earlier school than that of the Wan-li porcelain, with its designs and
medallions scattered over a white ground. These last patterns are, it would
seem, derived from textile fabrics, from the rich brocades of the time, both
Chinese and, possibly, foreign. In the famille verte of Kang-he’s time, on
the other hand, we may perhaps see a return, in general effect at least, to the
san-tsai and wu-tsai painted glazes of earlier Ming time.
When in place of the wash of green (or may be of yellow) the
background is formed by a black enamel, we still feel the prevailing
influence of the green in the decoration, so that these black-ground vases
are rightly included in the famille verte. The black background itself is often
of a greenish quality, and in the designs the camellia-leaf green is
predominant; yellow and purple are but sparingly introduced, but the effect
is heightened by the white reserves (Pl. x.). In many cases a wash of green
appears to have been carried over the black ground. This green enamel may
be often seen overlapping, as it were, on the foot of a vase.
It would be difficult to find in the whole range of Chinese porcelain
anything more superbly decorative

PLATE X CHINESE

than some of these large black-grounded vases in the Salting collection. We
would call attention to one example on which the thin skin-like glaze of the
dull ground and the somewhat archaic drawing of the great dragon that
curls round the side suggest a date earlier than that of its companions (Pl.
xi.). And yet these fine vases are wanting in two elements which we are
accustomed to regard as essential to the best porcelain: they neither display
to any extent the natural white colour of the paste,[60] nor is the outline
dependent on the motion of the clay under the potter’s hand. Nearly all

these vases, as indeed most of the large vessels of this time, are built up
from segments made in moulds.
What rich effects of colour are here obtained with a palette so restricted!
Perhaps not a little of the beauty of this decoration is due to this very
restriction. It will be noticed that we have in the more characteristic
examples a total absence of all shades both of red and of blue.
In the other not less important division of the enamel decoration of this
time these last two colours are added, and we come again to a pentad of
colours—not, however, quite the same as the wu-tsai of Wan-li times. We
are still under the influence of the famille verte: the leafy green in two or
more shades remains the predominant colour, the opaque red is used more
sparingly than in the later Ming enamelled ware, and above all the cobalt
blue is now used as an enamel colour over the glaze. This latter use points
to an important advance in technique, and it affords an easy means of
distinguishing the wares of the two periods. The new method of employing
the blue is, however, often only to be recognised by close examination in a
favourable light. What at once distinguishes the newer ware is rather the
displacement of the opaque red of the Ming porcelain by the characteristic
green of the Kang-he time as the dominant colour. When this full
complement of five colours is used, the general scheme of the design,
however, follows more on the lines of the Wan-li ware; we find sprays of
flowers or figure subjects relieved upon the white ground. But the drawing
of the newer ware is somewhat more realistic, and there is generally a
greater finish. In rare cases the five colours are combined with the black
ground, as may be seen on two large vases in the British Museum, but the
effect is not so happy as that obtained with a simpler range of colours.
There is another position in which these five enamel colours may be
found together—in the decoration of the white reserves left between
grounds of bleu poudré and fond laque. This was a form of decoration much
admired in Europe, and one of the earliest imitated. This fond laque ware of
various shades, with reserved panels decorated with flowers or figures, has
retained among dealers the designation of Batavian porcelain, a name
which, like our old terms Gombroon and East Indian, throws light on the
route by which it reached Europe. The deep blue vases covered with
elaborate designs in gold were also exported before the end of the
seventeenth century; of these large specimens have been sometimes found
in India. There is a tall vase of this ware in the Indian Museum at South

Kensington—the gilding, as is often the case, has almost entirely
disappeared.
In the historical development of our subject, which we are now
following with greater or less strictness, we are only concerned with
important developments and fresh types as they from time to time arise. We
have therefore little to say for the present of the blue and white and of the
wares with monochrome glazes of which we
Plate XI.

Chinese. Black
ground.
have so many superb specimens dating from the reign of Kang-he. We
must, however, mention in passing the brilliant sang de bœuf vases
especially associated with the early years of this emperor. As in the case of
the ‘transmutation’ or flambé glazes, the deep red colour of this ware is
produced by the action of a reducing flame upon a silicate of copper. It is
known in China as Lang yao, and there has been some misconception as to
the origin of the term. If, as the best authorities tell us, we are to derive the
name from Lang Ting-tso, the famous viceroy of the Two Kiangs (the
provinces of Kiangsi and Kiangnan) at the time of the accession of Kang-
he, the earliest form of this Lang yao must be associated with a period (say
about the years 1654-1668) which is otherwise quite sterile in the annals of
Chinese porcelain.
Yung-cheng (1722-1735).—When in 1722, after a reign of more than
sixty years, Kang-he,[61] perhaps the greatest of all the emperors of China,
died, we find a note of alarm sounded by the Jesuit fathers. Unlike his
father, Yung-cheng the new emperor was regarded as a supporter of the
most conservative traditions, and no friend of the Christian missionaries.
What, however, is important to us is the fact that as crown-prince he was
known not only as a patron of the works at King-te-chen, but as himself an
amateur potter of distinction. The Père D’Entrecolles, writing before Yung-
cheng’s accession to the throne, tells us that it was his habit to send down
from Pekin examples of ancient wares to be copied at the imperial factory.
This influence, exercised in a conservative direction, is reflected in the
porcelain produced during his reign.
This is indeed a critical point in the history of Chinese porcelain. We are
reminded of some similar periods in the development of our Western arts,
when it begins to become evident that a command of material and a
technical finish have been attained at the expense of all spontaneity and
freshness of expression. Some such tendency was accompanied at this time
in China by a careful and deliberate imitation of ancient forms and glazes.
Under Nien Hsi-yao, the new superintendent at King-te-chen, some advance
was certainly made—we shall speak of the Nien yao and the new colours

that distinguished it directly. We must not overlook, however, the influence
of the foreign demand which more and more made itself felt, an influence
opposed to the conservative and classical tastes of the emperor.
But when we run through the long list, under fifty-seven headings, of the
various wares copied at King-te-chen at this time,[62] we see how strong this
classical influence was. In fact, this catalogue is one of our best sources of
information for the ancient, and especially for the Sung, wares. The chief
concern of the compiler was with the glazes, for no attempt seems to have
been made to copy the thick and rough pastes of the early days.[63] We can
infer from some of the heads of the list that most of the highly perfected
glazes of the day, ranging through every shade of colour, were considered to
be but modifications of the old simple glazes of Sung times. This was an
essentially Chinese way of looking at the matter, and by this indirect path it
was possible to reach the most novel effects. Among the later headings of
Nien’s list (it was to some extent chronologically arranged) we find mention
of copies of Japanese wares, and frequent reference is made to colours and
decorations of European origin. We shall have to make more than one
reference to this important catalogue in a later chapter.
It was under the régime of Nien Hsi-yao that this list was drawn up. He
was the second of the great viceroys whose names are associated with the
emperors Kang-he, Yung-cheng, and Kien-lung respectively. He succeeded
to Tsang Ying-hsuan, and was followed in the next reign by Tang-ying. The
wares made during the administration of these superintendents are known in
chronological order as Tsang yao, Nien yao, and Tang yao. This Nien did
not regard his post by any means as a sinecure. He frequently visited the
works, and required samples of the imperial ware to be sent every two
months to his official residence for inspection (Bushell, p. 361).
The Nien yao, to the Chinese collector, is especially associated with
certain monochrome glazes—above all with the clair de lune—the yueh pai
or ‘moon-white,’ and with a brilliant red glaze with stippled surface, a near
cousin to the sang de bœuf and flambé classes. There is another ‘self-glaze’
ware which dates from this time, of which the mingled tints depend, as in
the case of the flambé, upon the varying degrees of oxidation of the copper
in the glaze. This is the ‘peach-bloom,’ the ‘apple red and green’ of the
Chinese. The charm of this delicate ware is of another kind to that to be
found in the vigorous flashes of colour of the transmutation glazes.

We can trace at this time the gradual introduction of two new colours
that give so special a character to the wares of the next reign. I mean the
pink derived from gold and the lemon-yellow. These colours were used
sparingly and with great delicacy at first, but we come to associate them at a
later time with a period of decline and of bad taste.
Kien-lung (1735-1795).—It was during the long reign of this emperor,
poet and patron of all the arts, that the new direction which we find given to
the porcelain made in the reign of his father, Yung-cheng, became even
more accentuated—on the one hand, the copying of old glazes and the
employment of archaic hieratic patterns for decoration, on the other, the
more and more frequent use of new colours and new designs of non-
Chinese origin. This latter tendency was fostered both by the eclectic tastes
of Kien-lung himself and also by the increasing importance of the demand
for foreign countries. Great care was given to the paste—it was required to
be of a snowy (or rather sometimes chalky) whiteness, tending neither
towards yellow nor towards blue, and so carefully finished on the lathe that
on the uniform glassy surface of the finer specimens no signs were left of
the movement of the potter’s wheel;[64] for compared with the ware
produced in Ming times, and even during the reign of Kang-he, we now
note the greater proportion of pieces thrown on the wheel. At no time has
the skill of the potter who threw the clay, and of the workman who then
pared and smoothed the surface on the lathe, been brought to a greater
perfection, and this applies not only to the eggshell china, but to the large
vases and beakers, so perfect in their outline. The same perfection of
technique is found in the decoration, so that a blue and white vase of this
period can at once be recognised in spite of the pseudo-archaic decoration
and the Ming nien hao inscribed on the base. When the new colours are
introduced the date is, of course, approximately fixed, and we may probably
associate with the beginning of this reign (or perhaps a little earlier; see
note on p. 110) the first use of the rouge d’or which has given its name to a
well-known class of porcelain—the famille rose.
A manageable red had long been a desideratum. There was no more
treacherous material than the basic copper oxide, whether painted under or
mixed with the glaze. As an over-glaze source of red this pigment was of
course unavailable, while the opaque brick-like tints obtained from iron,
though in keeping with the rougher, picturesque decoration of early times,
did not harmonise well with the delicate style of painting now in fashion,[65]

so that it is not surprising that the beautiful pink tint obtained from gold
carried all before it. The gold was probably incorporated with the enamel
flux in the form of purple of Cassius, which is readily prepared by
dissolving gold in a mixture of nitric acid and sal-ammoniac and adding
some fragments of tin. The colour had been known for some time in Europe
—we can perhaps even trace this pink tint on enamelled Arab glass of the
fourteenth century (see page 89).[66] A very small quantity of this material
goes a long way, especially when used to give a gradated tint to a white
opaque enamel, as on the petal of a flower. As a colour it is singularly
harmonious, and in a period of decline helped to ‘keep together’ the motley
array of enamels used along with it.
There is nothing more popular in the work of this time than the little
egg-shell plates, decorated with flowers and birds, for which such high
prices are given by collectors. The original type, for both ware and
decoration, is probably in this case to be found in the ‘chicken-cups’ of
Cheng-hua’s reign.
On the plates of this ware the borders are filled with elaborate and
minutely finished diapers and scrolls, evidently taken from silk brocades;
indeed, the gold threads of the woof are sometimes directly imitated; the
centre is occupied by a picture, either a flower piece or a genre figure scene
(Pl. xii.). We may connect these designs with the works of the naturalistic
colour school of the time, many of the finest of which have been preserved
by Japanese collectors. A very frequent subject is a rocky bank from which
grow peonies, narcissi, or other flowers, and under which two or more
chickens or sometimes quails are grouped. The petals of the flowers are
rendered by a white opaque enamel in high relief, often with a flush of pink,
imitating the tour de force by which the painters of the time, by a single
stroke of the brush, produced a full gradation of colour. Indeed, the same
artists doubtless painted both on silk, on paper, and on porcelain. We may
compare their work to that of the fan-painters and miniaturists who were
employed to decorate the panels of Sèvres porcelain, at this very time, with
pastoral scenes and flower pieces. The Chinese enamellers rarely signed
their work; but there is a plate in the British Museum with the name of a
Canton artist. This gives a hint as to where most of the work was done. But
the most remarkable instance of signed work of this period is found on a
series of large plates in the Dresden Museum. On these a Chinese artist,
some time before the middle of the eighteenth century, has painted a series

of designs of birds and flowers, and in one instance at least a graceful
female figure. On the field, in each case, we find a seal character
(accompanied either by a smaller mark contained in a circle, or by an
artemisia leaf) which indicates the painter’s name. With true artistic feeling
he has succeeded in filling the surface of the plate with a graceful
decoration, and at the same time he gives us a series of delightful pictures,
employing the full range of the enamel colours at his command. And in thus
combining a decorative design with an accurate

PLATE XII CHINESE

rendering of natural objects, the Chinese artist has succeeded in doing what
has never been accomplished by any European painter on porcelain.
In decoration of this kind, however, only the very best work pleases; in
anything below this we get at once to what is vulgar and trite; and the larger
palette now at the painter’s command only makes it easier for him to
produce the unpleasant combinations of colours so frequent in the wares
exported from China after the end of the eighteenth century. On the other
hand, the older painters, confined to their three or at most five colours,
seldom fail to produce an agreeable effect, however roughly their colours
are daubed on.

In the genre scenes, as in the case of the flower pieces, a realistic
tendency is prominent. We have no longer the Taoist saints or the hunting
and battle pieces of earlier times, but delicately executed interiors with
graceful figures of girls arranging flowers or painting fans, or again,
landscapes with men travelling by road or by river. There is a refinement of
colour and a charm of drawing and composition in the better specimens of
this somewhat effeminate school that appeals to every one. It is difficult for
us to find any marked European influence in the designs of this time, and
yet these pictures are classed by the Chinese as European in style; and it is
not quite clear whether this refers only to the enamel colours employed or
to the manner of drawing as well. Most of the work of this kind was
doubtless made for the European market and painted at Canton. But is this
the case with the finest examples? Kien-lung himself was, it would seem,
no despiser of this carefully decorated ware. A poem of his composition,
signed with the vermilion seal, is often found on this egg-shell porcelain.
On some of the most highly finished of the little cups and plates we find
an elaborate scroll decoration in gold and sometimes in silver; and in these
designs we may perhaps trace the influence of the baroque style in vogue at
this time in Europe.
Nien resigned his post when his master in the year 1735 had ‘flown up to
heaven like a dragon,’ and the new emperor, Kien-lung, appointed in his
place Tang-ying, who had long served under him. The new director was no
less an enthusiast than his predecessor. He tells us in his memoirs—for he
was a man of literary taste like his master, Kien-lung—that he served his
apprenticeship with the workmen, sharing his meals and his sleeping-room
with them, following in this the proverb which says ‘the farmer may learn
something from his bondman, and the weaver from the handmaid who
holds the thread for her mistress.’
We hear that new tints of turquoise (fei-tsui) and of rose-red (mei-kwei)
were introduced by him, and we may perhaps identify these colours with
certain shades of pink and turquoise blue that became prevalent about this
time. In both these cases the pigment is mixed with some amount of arsenic
or tin so that the enamel is nearly opaque, and this enamel is now spread
over the ground, taking the place of the glaze which lies beneath. The
effect, though apparently admired by some collectors, is heavy and
unpleasant. The pink, which we may consider as a Chinese equivalent of the
rose Pompadour (it is uncertain whether the French or the Chinese were the

first to use the rouge d’or colours), is generally more or less opaque, with a
granular surface; it is often found covering a paste inscribed with fine
scrolls.[67]

PLATE XIII. CHINESE

In the case of the pale opaque blue (to which the name of turquoise may
be applied more aptly than to the sky-coloured transparent blues of the demi
grand feu), the surface of the enamel is sometimes painted with an irregular
net-work of black lines, as if in imitation of some kind of marble. This
turquoise enamel towards the end of Kien-lung’s reign was often applied to
the surface of large vases, and when in combination with a lemon-yellow
decoration the effect is even more unpleasant than when used alone.
We have mentioned, when speaking of Yung-cheng’s reign, a valuable
list of the various kinds of porcelain made at that time at King-te-chen. We
must now refer to another document, quoted, like the list of Nien’s time, in
all the Chinese books dealing with the history of the imperial porcelain
works. The emperor Kien-lung, it would appear, when overhauling certain
manuscripts preserved in the palace, came upon a series of twenty water-

colour drawings illustrating the manufacture of porcelain. He at once
summoned Tang-ying, the famous superintendent at King-te-chen, to Pekin,
and, handing over the drawings, commanded him to prepare a full
description of all the processes illustrated in these pictures. This was in
1743, shortly before Tang’s retirement. The drawings themselves have
never been made public; but we have in Tang’s report what is, after the
letters of the Jesuit father, our most important source for the technical
details of the manufacture of porcelain in China. With these details we are
not concerned just now, but we will quote from Dr. Bushell’s translation a
disquisition on certain principles that should govern the forms and
decoration of porcelain. This is a kind of obiter dictum of Tang-ying, à
propos of the fashioning and painting of vases. In his flowery style he tells
us (I abbreviate in a few places): ‘In the decoration of porcelain correct
canons of art should be followed. The designs should be taken from the
patterns of old brocades and embroidery; the colours from a garden as seen
in spring-time from a pavilion. There is an abundance of specimens of ware
of the Sung dynasty at hand to be copied; the elements of nature supply an
inexhaustible fund of materials for new combinations of supernatural
beauty. Natural objects are modelled to be fashioned in moulds and painted
in appropriate colours. The materials of the potter’s art are derived from
forests and streams, and ornamental themes are supplied by the same
natural sources.‘[68] It is a strange fancy which connects the decoration of a
vase with the source of the materials with which it is made. Elsewhere,
speaking of the painting of the blue and white ware, Tang-ying says: ‘For
painting of flowers and of birds, fishes and water-plants, and living objects
generally, the study of nature is the first requisite. In the imitation of Ming
porcelain and of ancient pieces, the sight of many specimens brings skill.’
We see in this a kind of hesitation, a balancing between two influences—the
naturalistic and the traditional—which is characteristic of the period.
We may call attention, by the way, to the important place that is given in
this report to the process of moulding in the fashioning of a vase, especially
as supplementary to the throwing on the wheel, and above all, to the care
required in the turning and polishing on the jigger or lathe to ensure
accuracy of outline in the finished piece.
The last picture described by Tang-ying illustrates the worshipping of the
local god and the offering of sacrifice. And we are told the story of how,
when the great dragon-bowls failed time after time, and when, in

consequence, the workmen were harassed by the eunuchs sent down by the
Ming emperor, Tung the potter leaped into the furnace; and how, after this
sacrifice, when the kilns were opened, the bowls were at last found perfect
in shape and brilliant in colour. So Tung was worshipped as the potter’s
god; and, indeed, Tang-ying tells us, as a voucher for the truth of his story,
that in his time one of these very dragon fish-bowls, ‘compounded of the
blood and bones of the deity,’ still stood in the courtyard of the temple, a
witness to the sacrifice (Bushell, chapter xv).
Tang-ying resigned his post in 1746; his influence was therefore only felt
during the first years of Kien-lung’s long reign. His is the last name that can
be personally connected with any Chinese ware, unless it be that of the
emperor his master.
Kien-lung was a poet, and a very productive one—his complete works
were published in an edition of 360 volumes, containing nearly 34,000
separate compositions. These are generally occasional pieces suggested by
the aspects of nature. Such verses are not unfrequently found on the egg-
shell porcelain of his time, signed, too, with the vermilion pencil. There is
quite a long poem of his on a dish of thin ware now in the Musée Guimet in
Paris.
The emperor interested himself in a new kind of opaque glass made in
Pekin by a skilful artist, one Hu, and he sent specimens of this ware to
King-te-chen to be imitated in the nobler material, as he deemed it. This
was effected by means of a very vitreous paste, and the little snuff-bottles
moulded in high relief in this material are much prized both by Chinese and
American collectors.
There was, indeed, at this time a rage for imitating other substances in
porcelain, which was doubtless fostered by the increased command of
technical processes and of new colours. A good deal of the porcelain
covered with black or sometimes brown lacquer,[69] inlaid with mother-of-
pearl, the laque burgauté of the French, dates perhaps from an earlier
period. But the little snuff-bottles, imitating jade, pudding-stone, agate,
turquoise, as well as silver, gold, and bronze of varied patinas, or again the
rusted surface of iron—to say nothing of wood, bamboo, and mother-of-
pearl—may, with few exceptions, be attributed to this time. We may
compare such work to the contemporary triumphs of the Japanese in
lacquer.[70]

But by the middle of the century it is no longer the demand of the court
that gives the general tone to the productions of King-te-chen. The taste for
Oriental wares had spread among the middle classes in Europe. The English
were taking the place of the Dutch as the principal exporters, and this
change was reflected in a demand for a gaudy ware crowded with a motley
array of figures, the ‘mandarin china’ properly so called. As to the extensive
class of porcelain painted with coats-of-arms and other European designs, a
class well represented in the British Museum, we will only mention that the
greater part was decorated at this time by a special school of artists at
Canton, though some pieces date from a somewhat earlier period.
Kia-king (1795-1820), the son and successor of Kien-lung, was like his
father a poet, but a man of weak and dissolute character. The high finish of
the previous reign was, however, maintained, and the pieces marked with
this emperor’s name are sought after by Chinese collectors.
Tao-kwang (1820-1850).—It is surprising that so much really good
porcelain was made at a time so troubled by foreign wars and internal
rebellion. In some of the blue and white ware of this and even the next
reign, we may sometimes see a return to the breadth and boldness of
treatment characteristic of earlier days. In the coral-red grounds of this time,
the intractable iron oxide appears to have been more thoroughly
incorporated with the glaze than at any previous period. It is to this reign
that we may assign the ‘Pekin’ or ‘Graviata’ bowls, with reserved panels on
the outside filled with flowers, landscapes, etc., in many coloured enamels.
The ground is often of a pinkish rouge d’or, or in other instances of lemon
yellow, blue or pale lavender. The inside of the bowl has a decoration of
blue and white.
Hsien-feng (1850-61).—As at the beginning of this emperors reign the
Taiping rebels broke into Kiang-si and burned down the town of King-te-
chen, this period is of necessity a blank in the history of porcelain.
Tung-chi (1861-1874).—In the third year of this reign the rebels were
driven out from King-te-chen and the imperial works rebuilt. A large order
was at once sent from Pekin for porcelain of every description. The details
of this order, the latest of the lists of this kind to be found in the Annals of
Kiang-si, are only given in the edition of that work published since the date
of Julien’s translation. This list is translated by Dr. Bushell, fifty-five
headings in all, and we find in it a curious instance of the survival of the old

traditions. All the wares mentioned in the older lists are now again
requisitioned for the use of the court.
The Empress-Dowager, who has held the reins during the minority both
of Tung-chi and of his successor, the present emperor, is reputed to be
something of a connoisseur,[71] and to take an interest in the imperial
manufactory. Some of the better class wares from the palace and from the
temples at Pekin have quite lately found their way to England, and
specimens may be seen on loan at South Kensington. I notice especially a
set of five vessels in deep blue from the Temple of Heaven. The execution
appears to be careful, but the forms are ugly and the blue of an unpleasant
tint. In vessels of this kind, however, both shape and colour may be
governed by tradition. Mr. Hippisley, who has lived long in China, says that
for some years past the famille verte wares of Kang-he’s time, especially the
vases with black ground and prunus flowers, have been fairly well
reproduced at King-te-chen, as have, later still, the so-called ‘hawthorn
ginger-jars.’ But in China, as in France, it is with the difficulties of the
copper glazes, the flambé and the sang de bœuf, that the majority of our
contemporary ceramic artists are striving.

C H A P T E R VIII

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued).

Marks

W E may here conveniently say something of the marks found on
Chinese porcelain. We do not propose to give any systematic account
of these marks—this is a subject indeed to which a disproportionate
amount of space has perhaps been devoted in some works on porcelain—
but rather to collect a few notes on points of interest.
Tang-ying in his report to the emperor on the manufacture of porcelain,
from which we have lately quoted, tells us that during all the processes of
turning on the lathe, painting and glazing, a solid bar is left at the base of
the vase by which it is conveniently handled. This bar or handle is at length
cut off short, and the base of the stump is scooped out to form the foot of
the future vessel. It is at this stage that the inscription is written by a special
artist on the centre of the base, and then brushed over with a coat of the
glaze, which does not extend over the rim to join the rest of the glazed
surface. Thus we see that the writing of the inscription and the glazing of
the base are subsequent to and independent of the decoration of the rest of
the vase. In whatever style this decoration may be, the inscription is
generally written in cobalt blue under the glaze.
There are many varieties of Chinese writing. We pass from the oldest
‘tadpole’ forms, by way of the chuan or seal character, to the kai-shû, which
takes the place roughly of our ordinary printed letters. Of this last, the
square detached strokes pass when written with a brush into the more
flowing ‘grass’ character. The kai-shû style is the one most frequently found
on porcelain, or at least a form something between it and the grass hand.
The seal character, however, was much favoured by the Manchu emperors,
and since the time of Kang-he has been practically the only one used for the
imperial nien-hao (Pl. A. 10-12).[72]
The Chinese have two methods of indicating a date: first, by a cycle of
sixty years; second, by the name given to the whole or part of the reign of
an emperor. With the first we are not concerned, it is found so rarely on

porcelain.[73] The other, the imperial date or nien-hao, has been in use ever
since the time of the Han dynasty (say roughly from the beginning of our
era). Very early dates of this kind are often found on bronzes, where,
however, they are no more to be relied on than in the case of porcelain. The
inscription occurs in two forms:—first, the six word form where the
emperor’s name is preceded by that of the dynasty, thus: Ta Tsing Kang-he
nien chi,—‘Made in the reign of the Emperor Kang-he of the great Tsing or
Manchu dynasty’ (Pl. A. 8); or second, the first line with the name of the
dynasty may be omitted, leaving only the emperor’s name and the words
nien chi, ‘year made,‘—for example, Cheng-hua nien chi (Pl. A. 3).
The name by which we know the emperor of China was not his personal
or family name, but was assumed on ascending the throne, and in old times
was frequently changed. But from the time of the Sung dynasty such a
change has only once occurred. This was in the case of the unfortunate
Ming emperor Cheng-tung, to whom we referred on (p. page 93. We rarely
find the name of any emperor of an earlier time than the Ming dynasty on
porcelain, and the few instances that do occur are obvious forgeries.
Perhaps the earliest date on Chinese porcelain with any claim to authority is
the nien-hao of Yung-lo (1402-25), in quaint ‘tadpole’ characters engraved
in the paste beneath the glaze. This inscription occurs on the thin bowl of
Ting ware in the British Museum, described on page 67 (Pl. A. 1).
We have said before, and we cannot too strongly impress this fact upon
the reader, that the vast majority of the Ming marks so frequently found on
Chinese porcelain are of no value. They teach us nothing themselves, and
when we can accept them it is on evidence derived from other sources. As
Franks observed many years ago, all we can say is that a piece of porcelain
is not older than the date which it bears.
When we find the date inscribed in a horizontal line round the neck of a
vase, as is not infrequent in later Ming times, especially in the reign of
Wan-li[74] (1572-1619), more reliance may perhaps be put on it, as regards
ware of Chinese origin at least, for the Japanese were very fond of
decorating their blue and white ware with Ming inscriptions placed in this
position.
We have innumerable vases in our collections undoubtedly made in the
reign of the great Kang-he (1661-1722),[75] but his reign-mark is
comparatively rarely found. The absence of this nien-hao is usually

explained by a proclamation, issued in 1677, which has been preserved in
the Chinese books, forbidding the inscription of the imperial name on
porcelain. With this proclamation the empty double ring of blue often found
on the base of vases of this time may perhaps be connected. Many of the
finest pieces, however, bear no mark of any kind.
In place of these date-marks we may often find an inscription stating that
the piece was made at a certain Tang—for example, Shun ti tang chi—
literally ‘Cultivation virtue hall made’ (Pl. B. 17). We have here translated
the character tang by the somewhat vague word ‘hall,’ but it is doubtful
whether the inscription should be rendered ‘made for the Shun-ti pavilion,’
i.e. for the imperial palace, or rather, ‘made at the Shun-ti hall,‘—that is to
say, at the studio or factory of that name, presumably at King-te-chen. The
best authorities, however, are in favour of the latter rendering (Bushell, p.
78 seq., and the Franks Catalogue, p. 213), and they regard these so-called
hall-marks as more or less equivalent to the signature of the manufacturer.
The character tang is sometimes replaced by other words, as tsuan, a
balcony; ting, a summer-house; or chai, a studio. This last word is the
Japanese sai, which so often forms a part of the adopted names of Japanese
artists, as for example Hoku-sai, which means the ‘northern studio.’ The
Japanese potter often signs his work, and even in China we find in a few
cases a name, that of the painter, inscribed in the field of the decoration,—
we have already mentioned some instances of signatures found in this
position ((p. page 108).
Of another kind is the inscription found on certain egg-shell cups of the
time of Wan-li (1572-1619). These cups, of which we have no specimens
unfortunately in our collections, were made by a famous poet-potter who
signs himself Hu yin tao jen, or ‘the Taoist hidden in a pot.’ The reference is
to a Taoist recluse (what the Japanese know as a Sennin) who when
disinclined for society was in the habit of retiring into his gourd-bottle. At
the same time, as Dr. Hirth has pointed out, the words form an excellent
motto for an artist—the true expression of whose genius we seek in his
works.
There is a third class of marks which celebrate the beauty of the vessel
on which they are inscribed or, more rarely, refer to the subject of the
decoration. A large number of these are illustrated in Franks’s Catalogue of
Oriental Porcelain. We will merely quote as examples ‘A gem among
precious jewels of rare jade’ (Pl. B. 16), and, with reference to the

decoration, which in this case includes some red fishes, ‘Enjoying
themselves in the waters’ (Pl. B. 44). Such rather tame sentences do not
teach us much. More suggestive is the inscription we find on a cylindrical
vase for holding writing materials: ‘Scholarship lofty as the hills and the
Great Bear’ (Pl. B. 15)—a fit motto for the desk of the student.
The Emblems or Devices that so frequently occur in lieu of inscriptions
on Chinese porcelain are well illustrated in the British Museum catalogue.
They are, however, of little or no value in classifying or dating the pieces on
which they are found—they can seldom be connected with any known
manufacturer or artist. Such devices are generally symbolic, above all of
long life, riches, and honours, the three things desired by a Chinaman, and I
suppose that they are more or less vaguely expected to bring to the owner
the good luck that they suggest.
Some of these devices remind us of the ‘canting’ charges and badges of
our heraldry. Thus a bat (Pl. B. 19 a.) is in Chinese called fu, but the same
word also means happiness; so again a peach is shu, but shu means also
long life. The characters for happiness (Pl. B. 23) and long life (Pl. B. 19),
we may mention, are of constant appearance, the first usually as a mark on
the base, the second as an integral part of the decoration, on both Chinese
and Japanese porcelain. Such interest, then, as can be found in these marks
is derived rather from the light they throw upon the working of the Chinese
mind than from any information they give us about the porcelain on which
they are inscribed.

C H A P T E R IX

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued).

King-te-chen and the Père D’Entrecolles

T HERE is nothing more remarkable in the history of the porcelain of
China, than the fact of the concentration in one spot, for so many
centuries, of an industry for the supply of almost the entire population.
So that as regards porcelain, as China stands to the rest of the world, so the
town of King-te-chen stands to the rest of China. In fact, to parody a French
saying,—‘Qui dit porcelaine dit la Chine, qui dit la Chine dit King-te-
chen.’
Let us then consider the position of this town, above all in relation to the
three principal outlets of its trade—I mean the supply of the court at Pekin,
the export at Canton, and the general demand of the country. If the reader
will consult a good map of China, one that shows the rivers, for these are
the real trunk-lines of the commerce of the country, he will soon understand
in what a commanding position King-te-chen is placed. It is true that the
distance from Pekin is not far short of a thousand miles, following the
winding course of the Grand Canal, the Yang-tse river, and the waters of the
Po-yang lake; but by this route there is water communication without a
break for the whole way.[76] So again the whole journey to Canton may be
made by boat, with the exception of a short portage over the watershed on
the borders of the provinces of Kiang-si and Kuang-tung. This was the route
taken by Lord Amherst in 1816-17, when returning overland from Pekin to
Canton. The journey is well described by Sir John Davis in his Sketches of
China. As they approached the Po-yang lake, the porcelain shops and
depôts in the towns became more and more prominent. These were supplied
from the emporium at Jao-chau Fu, the great city near the spot where the
river descending from King-te-chen falls into the Po-yang lake. Davis
describes the beautiful scenery and the classical associations of the
mountainous country surrounding the lake. Proceeding southward they
ascended the Kia-kiang river, passing by Nan-chang Fu, a great centre for
the commerce of southern China. The river is very shallow in its upper
course, but along it passes a constant stream of traffic, by means of a

narrow passage scooped out in the shingly bed. The Meiling Pass is crossed
by a paved road, partly excavated in the rock and in places cut into steps—a
road made some twelve centuries ago by an emperor of the Tang dynasty.
After a journey of some thirty miles on horseback another stream was
reached, down which they floated to the great Western River and the waters
of Canton. It is by this route that nine-tenths of the Chinese porcelain that
has reached Europe must have passed. How this porcelain is packed at
King-te-chen and forwarded to Canton and to other parts of China is well
shown in a series of native drawings exhibited by the side of the cases
containing the porcelain in the British Museum.
King-te-chen stands on a small river that flows south-west to fall into the
Po-yang lake. At this point, close by the lake, lies, as already mentioned, the
city of Jao-chau, the capital of the whole district and the residence of the
prefect. King-te-chen, however, the town of the potter, is not directly
subordinate to Jao-chau; to the official mind it is a mere dependency of the
sub-prefecture of Fouliang, a small walled town or hsien in the immediate
neighbourhood. It is in the annals of this hsien that the early history of
King-te-chen is to be found. We may compare the relative positions of these
three Chinese towns with those existing in the eighteenth century between
the long straggling villages of Burslem or Stoke and the adjacent town of
Newcastle in the first place, and then between the latter and the county
town of Stafford. The importance of King-te-chen may, however, be
inferred from the fact that the superintendent of the imperial potteries was
often at the same time controller of the local customs and viceroy of the
surrounding provinces.
King-te-chen, then, was built where the little river flowed out from the
barren mountain tract to the east—a region made still more barren by the
cutting down of all the wood to provide fuel for the kilns, and whose
inhabitants were reputed to be as rude and rugged as their surroundings. It
is from the gorges of this rough hilly country that the precious kaolin and
petuntse are excavated. These substances are formed locally by the
decomposition of the rock of which the hills are composed, a variety of
graphic granite with much soda-holding felspar.
In a narrow space, crowded for more than four miles along the river
bank between shops, temples, and guardhouses, were built the kilns and the
workshops. Towards the south rises a small hill where the tiled roofs of the
temples and pavilions are seen half hidden among the trees. This is the

Jewel or Guardian Hill which commands the adjacent imperial
manufactory. This factory was first established here in the fourteenth
century, but since then it has been more than once burned to the ground in
times of riot and rebellion. The works were last rebuilt in 1866.
Dr. Bushell has translated an official description of the series of
workshops, from the mixing-house to the muffle-furnaces of the enamellers,
the whole enclosed by a wall about a mile in circuit. The kilns are no longer
within the enclosure as they were in Ming times. The imperial porcelain is
now fired in private furnaces scattered through the town.
The French Jesuit missionary to whom, above any one else, is due the
credit of first describing to the people of the West the nature of porcelain
and how it was made, was living, at the time when the earliest of his famous
letters was written (in 1712), at Jao-chau, the capital of the district. The
letter is addressed to the procureur of the order in Paris, and it would seem
that it was before long made public.[77] It was followed in 1722 by a second
supplementary letter, dated this time from King-te-chen itself. The Père
D’Entrecolles had already been many years in China, and had before this
sent home important letters on other branches of Chinese industry. The first
letter on porcelain gives proof of long acquaintance with the subject, and it
is not impossible that he may already have corresponded with some one in
Europe on the same subject. I make this suggestion in connection with the
curious coincidence of date between the residence of D’Entrecolles in this
district and the first manufacture of porcelain in Saxony.
These letters were naturally read with avidity at this time in Paris and
elsewhere. The seed fell on fertile ground, and but one thing was wanting,
and that was—some actual specimens of the materials described by the
Jesuit father. The indications on this head, given in the letters, were indeed
quite insufficient, and would rather tend to put inquirers on a false scent.
The writer, for example, had no notion of the real nature of kaolin, a
substance which in one place he compares to chalk. On the other hand, the
technical details so fully given were at that time new. Since then this
information has filtered down through many books, so that much of it now
appears quite trite.
I will confine myself to a few extracts bearing on points of interest that I
may have overlooked elsewhere. These letters are written in the clear,
flowing language of the time, and they are delightful reading. After giving

some account from the Annals of Fouliang of the early history of porcelain,
and describing how the industry was gradually concentrated at King-te-
chen, the Père D’Entrecolles goes on to say: ‘Apart from the pottery that is
made all over China, there are a few other provinces, as those of Fukien and
Canton, where porcelain is made.’ By Canton, in this case, we must
understand, I suppose, the province of Kuang-tung, and this is a piece of
information of some interest. The attempts made to establish workmen from
King-te-chen at Pekin, and again in the neighbourhood of Amoy, from
which port so large a commerce was already carried on with Europe, had,
he says, wholly failed.
There then follows a description of King-te-chen, with its long streets
and its population of more than a million, ‘as is commonly reported.’ He
tells us of a rich Chinese merchant who, after making his fortune in the
Indies, had built a magnificent temple to the Queen of Heaven (Kwan-yin,
probably). The European piastres he had brought back were well known in
the district, although this was not the case in other parts of China. We have
a picture of the busy quay and of the three ranges of junks closely packed
along the side, and for a background the whirlwinds of flame rising from
the three thousand kilns of the city.[78] After praising the admirable police
arrangements, he comes to his main subject, the manufacture of porcelain.
The small vessels that bring down the kaolin and the petuntse (in the
latter he notes the scattered shiny particles—the mica) from a distance of
twenty or thirty leagues are even more numerous than the big junks that
take the finished ware down to Jao-chau. The details of manufacture that
follow—and to quote them would be only to go once more over the ground
covered in a previous chapter—were learned by the Père D’Entrecolles not
only from the Christian workmen, but by frequent visits to the works
themselves. ‘These great laboratories,’ he tells us, ‘have been for me a kind
of Areopagus where I have preached’ (I quote the rest in French) ‘celui qui
a formé le premier homme de limon et des mains duquel nous sortons pour
devenir des vases de gloire ou d’ignominie.’
In describing the preparation of the paste much stress is laid upon the
care taken to exclude all extraneous matter, especially that which may have
been introduced into the kaolin or petuntse by way of adulteration. The slip
for the glaze—for the latter the Chinese term ‘oil’ is retained—is said to be
brought down from the mountains, where it is prepared, in a liquid form.
The division of labour in the manufacture is carried so far that a piece of

porcelain before completion may pass through the hands of as many as
seventy workmen, to each of whom a separate task is assigned.
The important part played by moulding, both as a direct process and
subsidiary to throwing on the wheel, is well brought out in this description.
I will give a rendering of the passage in which the process of moulding is
described, as in an English translation in a recent work there is some
apparent confusion. ‘When the piece to be copied is of such a nature that it
cannot be imitated with the potter’s hands on the wheel, a special kind of
clay used only for moulds is impressed upon it [i.e. upon the model]. In this
way a mould is made of several pieces, each of a considerable size. These
pieces are now dried, and when they are required for use they are held near
the fire for some time, after which they are filled with the paste to the
thickness desirable in the porcelain. The paste is pressed in with the hands
and the mould is again placed near the fire. The impressed figure becomes
at once detached from the mould by the heat that consumes the moisture
that has made it adhere. The different parts of a piece separately moulded
are now joined together with a somewhat liquid slip, made of the same
material as the porcelain.’ Great numbers of these moulds are kept in stock,
so that an order from Europe can be quickly executed.
The porcelain painters, he tells us, are just as ‘poor beggars’ (gueux) as
the other workmen; and he has evidently a very mean opinion of the art of
painting as practised at that time in China: ‘Ils ignorent les belles règles de
cet Art.’ But such an estimate of Oriental art was universal at that time,
when everything was measured from the standpoint of Versailles and the roi
soleil. ‘The work of the painter is divided in the same laboratory among a
great number of workmen. It is the sole business of one to trace the
coloured circle that we see near the edge of the vessel; another draws the
outline of the flowers, which a third fills in. One painter does the mountains
and the water, another the birds and the animals. It is the human figure that
is the most badly handled.... As for the colours on the porcelain, we find all
sorts. Little is seen in Europe except that with bright blue on a white
ground. I think, however, that our merchants have brought over other
kinds.’ (The implication is, no doubt, ‘since I have left France.’ This helps
us to fix the date of the introduction of coloured porcelain into Europe.)
‘Some we find with a ground like that of our burning mirrors.’ (This is
doubtless the Wu-chin, or metallic black of the Chinese. This ‘mirror-black’
is compared to a concave glass blackened behind.) ‘Other kinds are wholly

red, and among them some are d’un rouge à l’huile (yu-li-hung), and some
of a rouge soufflé (chui-hung), and covered with little points almost like a
miniature. When these two varieties are executed with perfect success—and
to do this is difficult enough—they are highly esteemed and are very dear.’
The yu-li-hung, literally ‘red inside the glaze,’ may be taken to include the
various shades of red derived from copper, of the grand feu. The rouge
soufflé is explained below. The word ‘miniature’ is used, I think, in the old
sense of an illuminated manuscript. ‘Finally there are kinds of porcelain
with the landscapes on them painted with a mixture of nearly every colour,
heightened by a brilliant gilding. These are very beautiful, if no expense is
spared. Otherwise the ordinary porcelain of this kind is not to be compared
with that which is painted with azure alone. The Annals of King-te-chen say
that formerly the people used nothing but a white ware.’
The source of the cobalt blue is now discussed and its mode of
preparation. The raw material is thrown into the bed of the furnace and
there roasted for twenty-four hours. It is then reduced to an impalpable
powder in a mortar of biscuit porcelain. The red is made by roasting
copperas to a high temperature in a crucible. The white that is used as an
enamel in decorating porcelain is prepared from ‘un caillou transparent,’
which is also roasted on the floor of the furnace.[79] This caillou is mixed
with two parts of white lead, and this mixture forms a flux—the basis for
the colours. There then follows some account of the other colours used, but
here it is difficult to follow the good father. He makes some strange
statements, which are not all of them cleared up in his supplementary letter
of 1722. There are indeed so many amplifications and corrections in the
latter that it will be well to combine in our summary the gleanings from the
two sources. This second letter is dated from King-te-chen after an interval
of ten years, and shows a greater acquaintance with practical details.
Passing over the account of the flambé and of some other glazes—to
avoid repetition we will defer our remarks till we come to speak of these
wares in the next chapter—we hear in the second letter of a valuable
material lately discovered which may take the place of kaolin in the
composition of the paste. This is described as a chalky-looking body which
is largely used by Chinese doctors as a medicine and is called Hua-shi.
We will here interrupt the Père D’Entrecolles’s account to mention that
the hua-shi is strictly speaking soapstone or steatite, a silicate of magnesia.
But whether magnesia ever enters into the paste or glaze of Chinese

porcelain is as yet a disputed question.[80] As far as I know, it has never
been found by analysis. The Chinese nomenclature of rocks is necessarily
based on their physical aspect alone. Some specimens sent from King-te-
chen, which were described on the labels as hua-shi, were found at Sèvres
to consist of an impure kaolin containing a large quantity of mica.
To return to the father’s letters:—In China this hua-shi is five times as
dear as kaolin. Four parts of it are mixed with one part of petuntse to make
the paste. The porcelain made with this material is rare, and much more
expensive than any other. Compared to ordinary porcelain, it is as vellum
compared with paper; it is, besides, of a lightness that is quite surprising. It
is, however, very fragile, and there are great difficulties connected with the
firing. For this reason it is sometimes only applied as a coating to the
surface of ordinary paste. The hua-shi is also used to form an ivory-white
slip, with which designs are delicately painted on the surface of the vessel.
(We may probably identify this hua-shi ware with the sha t’ai or ‘soft
paste,’ so called, of Western collectors.)
What we are told by the Jesuit father about the revival of the
manufacture of celadon is of great interest. ‘I was shown this year,’ he says,
‘for the first time, a new kind of porcelain which is now in fashion. It is of a
colour approaching olive, and is called Lung-chuan.’ The colour of the
glaze is given by the same yellow earth that is used for the or bruni glaze,
and it is often highly crackled. With this statement we may compare the
account which he gives in another part of his second letter of the revival of
the manufacture of archaic wares. ‘The Mandarin of King-te-chen, who
honoured me with his friendship, made presents to his protectors at the
court of pieces of old porcelain [sic] which he has the talent to make
himself. I mean that he has found the art of imitating the ancient ware, or at
least that of a considerable age, and he employs a number of workmen with
this object. The material of these false antiques (Chinese Ku-tung) is a
yellowish earth brought from the Ma-an mountains. They are very thick—a
plate which the Mandarin gave me was ten times the usual weight. The
peculiarity of this ware is the glaze made from a yellowish rock, which
becomes sea-green on firing.’ This change of colour, of course, was the
result of a reducing flame, but note the keen observation of the

PLATE XIV. JAPANESE, IMARI WARE, BLUE AND WHITE WITH GOLD

narrator. ‘When completed the pieces are boiled in a very greasy soup, and
then left for a month or more in the most foul drain that can be found. After
this process they may claim to be three or four hundred years old, and to
date from the dynasty preceding the Ming. They resemble the real antiques
in not giving a ringing note when struck.... They have brought me from the
débris of a large shop a little plate which I value more than the finest
porcelain made a thousand years ago. On it is painted a crucifix between the
Holy Virgin and St. John. Such pieces were made formerly for Japan, but

they have not been in demand for the last sixteen or seventeen years.’ These
plates, he thinks, were smuggled into that country mixed with other goods,
for the use of the native Christians. (Cf. the Japanese dish, Pl. xiv.)
The account given by the Père D’Entrecolles of the firing of porcelain is
so detailed and accurate that it forms an interesting commentary on what we
have said in a former chapter on this subject.[81] We have first a description
of the man who carries the unbaked ware to the furnace, ranged on two long
narrow planks. Balancing these on his shoulders, he threads his way
through the narrow streets, for the furnaces, as we have seen, may often be
a long way from the factory. He goes on to say, ‘the place where the
furnaces are presents another scene. In a kind of vestibule in front of the
kilns are seen heaps of clay boxes destined to contain the porcelain.’ These,
of course, are the ‘seggars’ already described. Each piece of porcelain of
any size has its own case. The smaller pieces are packed many together in
one seggar. On the bottom of each of these cases is a layer of sand covered
with a little powdered kaolin. Each seggar forms the cover to the one below
it, and so the whole furnace is filled with these great piles of cases each
packed with porcelain. ‘By favour of this thick veil the beauty, and if I may
so express myself, the complexion of the porcelain is not tanned by the
ardour of the fire.’ The workman, without touching the fragile raw pieces,
rapidly transfers them to the furnace by means of a flexible wooden fork.
There are six inches of coarse gravel in the bottom of the furnace, and on
this rest the piles of seggars. The middle range is at least seven feet high,
the two lowest seggars in each pile being left empty, as is also the one on
the top. The middle of the furnace is reserved for the finest porcelain, while
near the front are the pieces made with a more fusible paste. The piles of
seggars are strengthened by being battened together with clay, but it is the
first duty of the fireman to see that there is a free passage of air. The seggars
are made in a large village a league from King-te-chen, with a mixture of
three kinds of clay.
The furnaces, he tells us, which are now of larger dimensions than
formerly, are built over a capacious arched vault, and the hearth or fireplace
extends across the whole width of the front of the furnace. It would seem
that the process of firing is carried on more rapidly than in former days, and
to economise fuel and time the smaller pieces at any rate are taken out a few
hours after the extinction of the fire. Sometimes on opening the furnace the
whole contents, both seggars and porcelain, are found to be reduced to a

half-melted mass as hard as a rock. A change in the weather may alter in a
moment the action of the fire, so that a hundred workmen are ruined to one
who succeeds and is able to set up a crockery shop.
The ware made in European style finds no favour with the Chinese, and
if not accepted by the export merchants remains on the maker’s hands.
We are told of the marvellous tours de force executed in porcelain, some
years ago, for the heir-apparent, especially of certain open-work lanterns[82]
and strange musical instruments. We see from this at how early a date the
future emperor (Yung-cheng) showed an interest in porcelain. The Chinese,
it is said, succeed above all in grotesques and in figures of animals; the
workmen make ducks and tortoises that float on the water. They make, too,
many statues of Kwan-yin,—she is represented holding a child in her arms,
and in this form is invoked by sterile women who wish for children.
The mandarins, he continues, who appreciate the talents of Europeans
for ingenious novelties, have sometimes asked me to procure for them from
Europe new and curious designs, so that they may have something singular
to present to the emperor.[83] On the other hand, the Christian workmen
strongly urged me to do no such thing. For the mandarins do not yield so
easily as our merchants when told that a proposed work is impracticable.
Many are the bastinados given to the men before the official will abandon
the design from which he hoped so much profit.
‘What becomes of the vast accumulation of potsherds, both from the
seggars and from the firings?’ the writer finally asks. Mixed with lime, they
are largely used to form a cement with which the walls of gardens and roads
are constructed. They also help to build up the new ground which is
reclaimed from the banks of the river. Carried down thence by the floods,
they form a glittering pavement for many miles below the town.
In the detailed account of King-te-chen given by the Jesuit father, we
find no mention of the imperial manufactory. Are we to understand that he
found no admittance to these workshops? His acquaintance with the higher
mandarins makes this unlikely. Nor can we think that these works were
closed during the long period of his stay in this district. Another omission
that has been pointed out is, I think, more easy of explanation. The Père
D’Entrecolles, while giving in great detail the method of preparation of the
various colours used in the enamels and glazes, does not say a word about
the famous crimson derived from gold, so largely used in the famille rose

decoration. I cannot but think that this omission is an almost conclusive
proof that the rouge d’or was not known at that time.[84] The ignorance of
the Chinese of chemical processes is dwelt upon, and it is especially
mentioned that they are acquainted with neither aqua fortis nor aqua regia.

CHAPTER X

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued).

GORMS and Uses—Description of the various Wares.

W E have now given a summary sketch of the history and development
of the porcelain of China, and have seen something of the processes
of manufacture and decoration. Incidentally some account has been
given of the principal wares.
We now propose to take up the subject from the side of the paste, the
glaze, and the decoration, putting aside the question of age and of historical
sequence, and to run through the various classes into which we can divide
our material under these heads. We shall follow as far as possible the
arrangement adopted in the British Museum, passing from the simpler
forms of decoration to the more complex.
First, however, let us say a few words on the forms given to porcelain by
the Chinese, and the uses these objects are put to in the country of their
origin.[85]
In a first glance at any large collection of Chinese porcelain the bulk of
the objects shown appear to fall into four classes: plates and dishes, bowls,
vases for flowers, and covered jars.[86] But a closer examination discloses
an endless variety of other uses to which porcelain has been applied by the
Chinese.
The figures of the gods and the vessels associated with their worship
found in the temples and household shrines form by themselves a large
division. Here the use of porcelain has from a very early period been
encouraged at the expense of bronze and other metals. The ritual vessels
used in the imperial worship at Pekin have for ages been made of porcelain.
Many of them, as the jars for sacrificial wine, in the form of elephants and
rhinoceroses, are copied from the most archaic bronze types; of the same
origin is the small libation cup of peculiar shape sometimes seen in our
collections. The Wu-kung, or five vessels that stand in front of a Buddhist
shrine, the incense-burner in the centre, with a candlestick and a vase on
either side, are often in China made of porcelain. In Japan these objects are
always of metal. A similar set is found in the Taoist temples. The colour of

the vessels in ritual use at Pekin varies with the temple in which they are
found. Those of the ancestral temple of the emperors are of imperial yellow;
those of the altar of heaven of a deep blue (a set of five of this colour,
recently brought from Pekin, may be seen at South Kensington). A red
glazed ware is connected with the altar of the sun, and white with that of the
planet Jupiter.
The objects used in the burning of perfume, the basis doubtless of the
highly elaborated apparatus of the Japanese, are usually made of porcelain:
these are the incense-burner, the boxes for the perfumes, and the little vase
to hold the fire-sticks and the tongs. From these we may pass to the various
objects found on the table of the cultured classes, most of them connected
with literary pursuits. This is an important division in Chinese collections,
as we may judge from the often-quoted manuscript catalogue of Dr.
Bushell. The slabs, the water-drippers, and a dozen other small objects are
modelled in a variety of forms. The pen-rest is generally in the shape of a
small range of mountains, the highest in the centre (this, by the way, is the
ancient form of the Chinese character for ‘mountain,’ cf. Pl. viii.). One of
the strangest uses to which porcelain is put by the Chinese is the hat-stand
in the form of a hollow sphere supported on a tall, tubular column—the
sphere may be filled with either fine charcoal embers or with ice, according
to the season.
Pillows, too, are made of porcelain—there is one of the famille verte in
the Salting collection—but the native collector is warned against those of a
certain size and shape, as they may have been stolen from tombs. Tall vases
to contain arrows, either cylindrical or square in section, are especially
connected with the Manchus. These large vessels may generally be known
by their porcelain stands often surrounded by railings.
The vases and bowls are of all sizes and shapes. The biggest ovoid vases
with dome-shaped covers may stand in the hall on carved stands; indeed,
they are found in similar positions in many of the palaces of India, Persia,
and Europe.
The flower vases form an important group, and as in Japan, there is quite
a library of illustrated work devoted to them. Both the shape and the
decoration of the vase are dependent upon the flowers it is destined to hold,
and the arrangement and combination of these flowers is regulated by rival
schools of specialists.

The combination of five pieces to form a garniture de cheminée is not
altogether a European idea. The Chinese have a similar combination—the
Wu-shê, or set of five; but with them an uncovered vase is preferred for the
central piece. For the service of the dinner-table there are many forms:
among the cups, plates, and dishes of all shapes and sizes we may select for
mention the dishes with covers indicating by their shapes the contents—
fish, birds, or fruit. With these we may compare the similar forms made at
one time at Chelsea and elsewhere. There are, again, the compound dishes
in the form of flowers, each petal forming a compartment. Finally, we must
not forget the tall, cylindrical mugs with crown-like tops, used for cooling
drinks in summer, or among the Mongols for their koumis.
There are also certain forms made chiefly, but not exclusively, for the
Mohammedan west. Of these, we may mention the bases for the hookah,
recognisable by the small, straight spouts at the side to which the flexible
smoking-tube is attached; the scent-sprinklers with tall, narrow necks; and
the hand-spittoons with globular body and wide-spreading orifice,—these
last, by the way, are used in China also.
It is not known to what date we can refer the oldest of the little
medicine-flasks (Chinese yao-ping) which have in later times been used as
snuff-bottles. They seem to have been carried westward in large numbers by
the Arab traders, and that from an early date. In shape and size they have
varied little.[87] Those found so abundantly in Egypt are generally very
small, and are often shaped in imitation of a flattened vase with a square
foot: some of them are of a rough-looking celadon, others are covered with
a green enamel with white reserves. These are the little bottles that found
themselves suddenly so famous towards the beginning of the last century,
when they were extracted by the Arabs from Egyptian tombs of early
dynasties. Somewhat later they encountered some rivals in the small seals
of white Chinese porcelain which were discovered in the Irish bogs!
We can only mention in passing a few of the innumerable subsidiary
uses which porcelain is made to serve in China, taking the place of so many
other materials, above all of metal:—fittings for furniture, especially for the
bedstead, frames for the abacus, or calculating-table, knobs for walking-
sticks and hanging scrolls, boxes of various shapes and sizes for cosmetics,
buttons, bracelets, and hair-ornaments. Finally, the very fragments, what we
should call pot-sherds, of the oldest wares, especially when fine in colour,
may be found mounted in gold or silver and worn as personal ornaments.

We started our sketch of Chinese porcelain with a rough historical
division into three classes. We are now concerned only with questions of
glazes and decoration, and we shall find that the apparently innumerable
varieties of Chinese porcelain fall, with few exceptions, under one or other
of the following heads:—
1. White, or nearly white, ware, which may be glazed or unglazed.
2. Single-glaze wares, either true monochromes or, if of more than one
colour, the variety of colour arising from changes brought about in the
single glaze during the firing.
3. Porcelain decorated under the glaze. Chiefly blue, less often blue
combined with red, or red alone.
4. The decoration given by painting with glazes of more than one colour,
probably always on the biscuit. We may call this the class of polychrome
glazes.
5. The decoration painted over the glaze with enamels more fusible than
the glaze on which they rest.
Plain White Ware.—The white ware made at Ting-chou, a town in the
province of Chihli, to the south-west of Pekin, as early as Sung times,
served as a type for all the many kinds of similar ware made in later days at
King-te-chen. We have seen ((p. page 68) that there was a variety, of the
earlier ware, of creamy tint covered with a soft glaze containing lead; this is
the Tu-ting, of which there are several specimens in the British Museum. It
was, however, the pure white variety, the Feng-ting, that was afterwards
copied. The colour of this ware, when not a pure white, tends to blue and
greenish tints, and it is often finely crackled. This ware, especially the thin,
translucent, egg-shell variety of the time of Yung-lo (1402-25), is much
sought after by Chinese collectors.
But the greater part of the plain white Chinese porcelain in European
collections was not made either at Ting-chou or at King-te-chen. It is rather
to be traced to the only other important centre for the manufacture of
porcelain that survives in China. This is the district of Te-hua (Tek-kwa in
the local dialect), in the province of Fukien. This province had been famed
in Sung times for its tea-bowls covered with a dark glaze, and we must
remember that somewhere along its rocky, indented coast was situated the
port of Zaitun, so famous in early days for its Arab trade. In later times the

roadstead of Amoy came to rival Canton as a port of call for our ships; it is
mentioned in this connection by the Père D’Entrecolles, and from it most of
the blanc de Chine which at that time reached Europe was probably
exported. For it was this Fukien ware rather than the white Ting porcelain
that was imported into Europe from the latter half of the seventeenth
century, to be copied in the earlier days of Saint-Cloud and Bow. In Spain it
was a great favourite from perhaps an earlier date, and when the Buen
Retiro works were started this ware was taken as a model.
This white ware does not seem to have been made at Te-hua before the
Ming period, but it soon established itself as the pai-tsu—the white ware
par excellence of China. It is distinguished by the creamy white of its paste
and glaze—that is to say, the colour tends

PLATE XV. 1—CHINESE, PLAIN WHITE WARE
2—CHINESE, BLUE AND WHITE WARE

towards a warm, yellowish tint rather than towards the cold, pure white or
bluish tone of most of the King-te-chen and still more of the Japanese
wares. The satiny glaze appears to melt into the subjacent ground in a way
that reminds us of some of the European soft paste porcelains.
It is the moulded ware that is most characteristic of the ‘Kien yao‘—
vases with dragons in full relief creeping round the neck, incense-burners in

many complicated forms, figures of Kwan-yin (whom we should not call
the ‘Goddess of Mercy‘) in many incarnations; or again, Ta-mo (so well
known in Japan as Daruma), the Bodhi-dharma who brought the faith to
China, with overhanging brows and abstracted, solemn gaze. Among
animals, the favourite is the lion, the so-called ‘dog of Fo,’ sporting with an
open-work ball.
Many of these figures are very ably executed; they stand firm and erect;
and the draperies, though here the mannerisms of the ‘calligraphic’ school
of painting may be recognised, fall in simple folds from the shoulders. The
prevalence of Buddhist types (for the Taoist divinities are here less
frequently represented) may be connected with the exceptional
predominance of that religion in Fukien, a province somewhat remote from
the rest of China, whose inhabitants speak a dialect very different from the
standard Chinese.
Some very creditable work seems to be still turned out from the Te-kua
district, to judge by the ware that finds its way to the shops of Fuchow.
Some enamelled ware appears to have been at one time made in this
district. In the British Museum are some small pieces decorated with five
colours (among them a blue enamel over the glaze), which on the ground of
the nature of the glaze and the paste have been classed as Fukien ware;
while from the style of the decoration they would appear to date from the
early eighteenth century.
Much white porcelain, both the Feng-ting and the Fukien, was imported
into Europe from the end of the seventeenth century, and it forms an
important element in old collections. Some of this white ware, at a later
time, was decorated with colours in England and elsewhere, giving rise to a
class of porcelain that has caused some confusion to collectors.
In China, white porcelain is used in time of mourning, at least that is the
case with that supplied to the imperial court.
Unglazed porcelain is comparatively rare in China, but figures of gods or
of animals are sometimes found in biscuit, and the little boxes in which
crickets are kept for fighting are generally of unglazed ware. Again, where,
as in the class of polychrome glazes, the glaze is applied with a brush, some
part may be left unglazed; and this practice has survived in the case of the
lions and kilins of the famille verte, where we often find the biscuit exposed
in parts of the face.

Celadon Ware.—As the white ware of King-te-chen—the Ting—has
got its name from the town of Ting-chou where it was first made, so the
many varieties of celadon[88] porcelain are connected in the Chinese mind
with the town of Lung-chuan, near the southern boundary of the province of
Chekiang. We have already given some space to this ware, so important
from the cultur-historisch point of view, and we shall have to return to it
again when we come to investigate the routes by which the porcelain of
China passed in the Middle Ages to other countries. Here we will merely
call attention to the later revival of the celadon glazes mentioned in a
passage we have quoted from the letters of the Jesuit father. But the highly
finished porcelain, with a fine white paste covered with a pale greyish-
green glaze of uniform thickness and shade, differs much from the old vases
with ‘red mouth and foot.’ There is a remarkably fine specimen in the
Wallace collection at Hertford House with chased metal mountings of the
time of Louis xv., and other pieces similarly mounted in the Jones
collection.
Crackle Ware.—It would only create confusion to make a special class
for the many kinds of ware covered with a crackled glaze. It will be
remembered that we first came across glazes of this kind when describing
the Ko yao, the ‘ware of the Elder Brother,’ and a large class of porcelain
with white to yellowish grey glaze, always more or less crackled, is still
commonly known as Ko yao in China, so that ‘Crackle ware’ and ‘Ko yao’
are in a measure equivalent terms. Such crackling may vary from a division
of the surface into large fissures several inches in length, to the finest
reticulation of minute lines hardly visible without a glass. The first the
Chinese compare to the cracks of ice, and I think that it is to a variety of
crackle with long spindle-shaped divisions that they give the name of ‘crabs
claw.’ The finer crackle they know as ‘fish-roe‘—this is the truité of the
French. Certain glazes, as the turquoise and the purple of the demi grand
feu, are always finely crackled. In other cases the crackling, which is
caused, as we have already said ((p. page 32), by the glaze after
solidification contracting more than the subjacent paste, may be produced
or modified at the will of the potter by adding various substances to the
glaze. A rock that has been identified with steatite has been often mentioned
in this connection, and the increase in the shrinkage of the glaze attributed
to the magnesia contained in it. Probably, however, a change in the
proportion of the silica to the alumina may be enough to bring about a

crackled glaze. The following extract from the letters of the Père
D’Entrecolles throws some light on this point. He tells us that when the
glaze is made of cailloux blancs (probably little else than felspar), without
other mixture, we obtain the porcelain called Sui-ki, or ‘shattered ware’ (this
is the general Chinese term for crackle), ‘marbled all over with an infinity
of veins so as to look like a piece of broken porcelain with the pieces
remaining in their places.’ The glaze, we are told, is of a cindery white. We
have here a description of the Ko yao, which, however, seems to have been
little known in Europe at that time. To this class belong the vases with
yellowish grey ground and crackles of medium size. They are often
provided with mask handles and detached rings. These handles and rings, as
well as some broad bands round the neck, are covered, in imitation of
bronze, with a dark, roughened glaze. Another variety of this Ko yao is
decorated with scattered patches of white slip, laid on apparently over the
crackled glazed surface. On this slip is painted the design in cobalt blue
under what is apparently a second glaze. A frequent motif on this ware is
found in a series of horses in the strangest of positions. These probably
represent the eight famous steeds of the old emperor Mu-wang. Both these
classes of Ko yao are in great favour in China and Japan as flower vases.
The shapes and decorations are more or less reminiscent of the old bronzes.
It would seem that ware of this kind is still manufactured at King-te-chen
and perhaps somewhere in the north of China also.
The brown glazes form a very distinct class. The well-known colour has
many names: in French fond laque; in Chinese tzu-kin, or ‘burnished gold.’
It is also known as ‘dead leaf,’ but the average tint is perhaps best described
as café au lait. The Père D’Entrecolles, in mentioning the tzu-kin, the colour
of which he says is given by a ‘common yellow earth,’ states that it was a
recent invention in his time. He is perhaps referring to some special tint, for
the colour was well known in Ming days. We have already spoken of the
possible relation of this colour to the

PLATE XVI. CHINESE, WHITE SLIP ON BROWN GROUND

copper lustre of the fourteenth century Persian fayence. At a later time in
the seventeenth century it was a favourite colour with the Persians,
especially when decorated with delicate designs of flowers and ferns in a
thin white slip (Pl. xvi.). It was largely exported at that time from China
and cleverly imitated in the fayence and frit-pastes of Persia. Both the
original Chinese ware and the Persian imitation are well represented at
South Kensington by specimens brought from the latter country. This brown
glaze is seldom found alone. It is a colour that stands well the full heat of
the furnace, and it may be combined with a blue and white decoration or
with bands of celadon. It forms the ground-colour of the so-called Batavian
ware, and at one time a brown ring was by our ancestors held to be essential
on the rim of a fine plate or bowl of blue and white porcelain.
Turquoise and Purple Glazes.—As for the twin colours of the demi
grand feu (the yellow in this group is quite subordinate), the so-called
turquoise (including the peacock green and kingfisher blue of the Chinese)

and the aubergine purple, the latter is seldom found alone. Both colours are
distinguished by a very fine-grained crackle. Of the blue, when used as a
single-glaze colour, we have spoken when describing the glazes of the demi
grand feu.
Yellow Monochrome Glazes.—There are many shades of yellow found
on Chinese porcelain: the imperial yellow of full yolk-of-egg tint, the lemon
yellow, the greenish ‘eel-skin,’ and the ‘boiled chestnut.’ Only the first, the
imperial yellow, is of importance as a monochrome glaze. This is the colour
first used in the time of the Ming emperor Hung-chi (1487-1505), and his
name is sometimes found on bowls and plates ranging in colour from a
bright mustard to a boiled chestnut tint. There are some good specimens in
the British Museum, and a curious piece, with a Persian inscription, at
South Kensington, has already been mentioned when speaking of the reign
of Hung-chi.
Cobalt Blue Monochrome Glazes.—We may distinguish three varieties
of blue derived from cobalt, but the full sapphire of the blue and white ware
is not found as a monochrome glaze:—
1. The Clair de lune. The term yueh-pai, or moon-white, was applied to
more than one class of Sung porcelain, but above all to the Ju yao. In later
times, when these primitive wares were copied, the colour was given by a
minute quantity of cobalt, but it is very doubtful whether that pigment was
known in early Sung days. The clair de lune glazes of Nien were considered
second in merit only to the copper reds of that great viceroy. The uncrackled
glazes of this class are often classed as celadon.
2. The Mazarin blue, known also as bleu fouetté or powder-blue.[89] This
glaze is blown on to the surface of the raw paste, in the manner described
on page 30. It sometimes covers the whole surface, and is then generally
decorated with floral designs in gold, but more often it forms the ground for
vases and plates with large white reserves on which designs in enamel
colours are painted.
3. The Gros Bleu, in the form of large plates and vases, was a great
favourite with the Arabs and other Mohammedan races. This ware, too, was
often covered with a decoration of gold. There is a magnificent plate of this
class in the British Museum, and at South Kensington, in the India
Museum, a tall, dark-blue vase which we have already mentioned. From

Persia come many specimens of this deep blue ware, of a greyish or even
slaty tint, decorated, like the fond laque, with flowers in a white slip.
Black Glazes.—Very near to this last class of blue glazes we may place
the ‘metallic black,’ the wu-chin of the Chinese. According to the Père
D’Entrecolles, this mirror-black is prepared by mixing with a glaze
containing much lime and some of the same ochry earth that gives the
colour to the brown glazes, a sufficient quantity of cobalt of poor quality. In
this case no second glaze is required, and the vessel is fired in the demi
grand feu, i.e. in the front of the furnace. Other blacks are painted on and
covered with a second glaze. The large spherical vases with tall tubular
necks show little trace generally of the gold with which the black glaze was
originally decorated.
Green Glazes.—The peculiar tint of green, in varied intensity, that
distinguishes the famille verte is seldom found as a single glaze; and of the
green Lang yao, made by Lang Ting-tso in the early part of the reign of
Kang-he, it is doubtful whether we have any representatives in our
European collections. This glaze is said to be somewhat in the style of his
more famous sang de bœuf.
The brilliant cucumber or apple-green of Ming times is shown in a pair
of exquisite little bowls in the British Museum. Over the green glaze there
is a scroll pattern of gold, and on the inside a blue decoration under the
glaze. Almost identical with these is the bowl set in a silver-gilt mounting of
English make dating from about the year 1540, now preserved in the Gold
Room (Pl. v.). Of a similar but somewhat deeper tint of green are the rare
crackle vases, generally of small size, of which there are specimens in the
British Museum and in the Salting collection.[90]
Olive and Bronze Glazes.—The monochrome glazes of various shades
of olive and bronze are for the most part produced by a soufflé process, in
which on a base of one colour a second colour is sprinkled. Thus to form
the ‘tea-dust’ a green glaze is blown over a reddish ground derived from
iron. The wonderful bronze glazes, of which there are good specimens in
the British Museum and in the Salting collection, are produced in a similar
way. But some of these (and the same may be said of the ‘iron rusts‘)
partake rather of the nature of the more elaborated glazes of the flambé
class.

Red and Flambé Glazes (Pl. xvii.).—We have left the red glazes to the
last, both from the complicated nature of the class and because one variety,
the sang de bœuf, forms a transition to the ‘splashed’ or flambé division. A
red glaze or enamel, we have seen, can be produced from three metals,—
from gold, from copper, and from iron. With the Rose d’or, which may be
classed as a monochrome enamel, when used to cover the backs of plates
and bowls, we are not concerned here—it is not properly a glaze in our
sense of the word. The red derived from the sesqui-oxide of iron was only
successfully applied as a monochrome when, at a late period, the difficulties
attending its use were overcome by combining the pigment with an alkaline
flux. This is the Mo-hung or ‘painted red’ of the muffle-stove, which was
painted over the already glazed ware, and therefore not properly itself a
glaze. In fine specimens it approaches to a vermilion colour; it is the jujube
red of the Chinese. It is with this colour, laid upon the elaborately modelled
paste, that the carved cinnabar lacquer is so wonderfully imitated.[91]
But it is the red derived from copper that presents the most points of
interest. Indeed we now enter upon a series of glazes, beginning with the
pure deep red of

PLATE XVII. CHINESE

the sang de bœuf, and then passing over the line to the long series of
variegated or ‘transmutation‘[92] glazes that have more than any others
fascinated the modern amateurs of ceramic problems. We have already seen
how these magic effects are produced by carefully modulating the passage
of the oxidising currents through an otherwise smoky and reducing
atmosphere in the furnace ((p. page 42).
The typical sang de bœuf, or the ‘red of the sacrifice,’ as the Chinese call
it, was that made under the régime of Lang Ting-tso a forerunner of the
three great directors of the imperial manufactory at King-te-chen, and in
later times it was always the aim of the potter to imitate his work—the Lang
yao—even in trifling details. According to the Père D’Entrecolles, to obtain
this red the Chinese made use of a finely granulated copper which they
obtained from the silver refiners, and which therefore probably contained
silver. Some other very remarkable substances, he tells us, entered into the
composition, but of these it is the less necessary to speak, as he confesses
that great secrecy was maintained on the subject.
In looking carefully into a glaze of this kind, the deep colouring-matter
is seen suspended in a more or less greenish or yellowish transparent
matrix, in the form of streaks and clots of a nearly opaque material.[93] The
hue, in general effect, varies from a deep blood-red to various shades of
orange and brown, but intimately mixed with the red, certain bluish streaks
are sometimes to be seen in one part or another of the surface. The colours
should stop evenly at the rim and at the base, which parts, if this is
achieved, are covered with a transparent glaze of pale greenish or yellowish
tint.
We have already seen that much depends upon the period of the firing at
which the glaze becomes liquid or soft, and upon the exact degree of
fluidity attained by it. Should the oxidising currents be allowed further play
at the critical period of the firing, the blue and greenish stains and splashes
will become more predominant, and we may either pass over to the flambé
or ‘transmutation’ glazes, or finally the glaze may become almost white and
transparent.
But we must hark back to the wares of the Sung period, to the Chün yao,
to find the origin of these variegated glazes. These early Sung glazes were
copied in the time of Yung-cheng, and if we are to believe the contemporary
list, already quoted, of the objects copied, they were of a very complicated

nature. In this class of flambé ware we must include also a large part of the
so-called Yuan tsu (see page 77), a heavy kaolinic stoneware, certainly not
all dating from the Yuan or Mongol period—a ware, indeed, still common
in the north of China. This ware is roughly covered with a glaze of
predominant lavender tint, speckled with red, and thus approaches to the
‘robin’s egg’ glaze of the American collector, though this latter is found on
a finer porcelain of later times.
Another name which has been used to include many of these variegated
glazes is Yao-pien or ‘furnace-transmutation.’ This last word very well
expresses the process by which the colour is developed, but it must be
remembered that this is not exactly the meaning that the word yao-pien
conveys to the Chinese mind.[94] With this term the happy accidents of the
furnace were linked by the Père D’Entrecolles: he tells us that it was
proposed to make a sacrificial red, but that the vase came from the furnace
like a kind of agate. Dr. Bushell thinks that most of the fine pieces of this
ware date from the time of Yung-cheng and Kien-lung (1722-1795), and he
is of opinion that they were prepared by a soufflé process rather than by any
‘academic transformation’ of a copper-red glaze. ‘The piece,’ he says,
‘coated with a greyish crackle glaze or with a ferruginous enamel of
yellowish-brown tone, has the transmutation glaze applied at the same time
as a kind of overcoat. It is put on with the brush in various ways, in thick
dashes not completely covering the surface of the piece, or flecked as with
the point of the brush in a rain of drops. The piece is finally fired in a
reducing atmosphere, and the air, let in at the critical moment when the
materials are fully fused, imparts atoms of oxygen to the copper and
speckles the red base with points of green and turquoise blue’ (Oriental
Ceramic Art, pp. 516-17). Some practical experiments lately made in
France would tend to show that the critical moment should be placed a little
earlier, before the glaze is completely fused, for after that point is reached
the surrounding atmosphere has little influence upon the metallic oxides in
the glaze. It is to this capricious action of the furnace gases that are due
those wonderful effects that may be observed in looking into these glazes,
curdled masses of strange shapes and varying colour suspended in a more
or less transparent medium, and assuming at times those textures
resembling animal tissues which are graphically described by the Chinese
as pig’s liver or mule’s lungs. It must be understood that into many of the
more modern and apprêtés specimens of flambé ware the sources of the

violent contrasts of colour are found not only in the oxides of copper and
iron, but in those of cobalt and manganese also.
But in contrast to ‘the stern delights’ of these flamboyant wares there is
another kind of glaze, chemically closely allied, for it is also of
transmutation copper origin, of which the associations are of another kind.
This is the peach-bloom, the ‘apple-red and green,’ or again the ‘kidney-
bean’ glaze of the Chinese. Although claiming an origin from Ming times,
this glaze is always associated with the great viceroy Tsang Ying-hsuan.
The little vases and water-vessels of a pale pinkish red, more or less mottled
and varying in intensity, are highly prized by Chinese collectors.
Decoration with Slip.—There is a class of ware which might perhaps
claim a separate division for itself—I mean that decorated with an engobe
or slip. We have already mentioned the most important cases where this
engobe is applied to the surface of single-glazed wares: these are, in the
first place, the fond laque (Pl. xvi.), and in a less degree certain blue and
even white wares. The slip, of a cream-like consistency, is as a rule painted
on with a brush over the glaze, generally, I think, after a preliminary firing.
[95] This engobe may then itself be decorated with colours, as we have seen
in the case of the Ko yao, and the whole surface probably then covered with
a second glaze.[96] Sometimes when the ground itself is nearly white we get
an effect like the bianco sopra bianco of Italian majolica. This carefully
prepared and finely ground engobe contains, in some cases at least, the
same materials as those employed in the preparation of the Sha-tai or ‘sand-
bodied’ porcelain.
Pierced or Open-work Decoration (Pl. xviii. 1).—We may here find
place for another kind of decoration, one much admired in Europe in the
eighteenth century.

PLATE XVIII. 1—CHINESE, PIERCED WARE, BLUE AND WHITE
2—CHINESE, BLUE AND WHITE WARE

This is obtained by piercing the paste so as to form an open-work design,
generally some simple diapered or key pattern, but sometimes flowers or
figures of cranes. The little apertures or windows thus formed may be filled
in by the glaze (if this is sufficiently viscous to stretch across them) in the
simple process of dipping. In this case the glaze takes in part the place of
the paste, and indeed in the closely allied ‘Gombroon’ ware of Persia it is
the thick, viscous glaze rather than the friable sandy paste that holds the
vessel together. It is the plain white ware to which this decoration is
generally applied in China. There is one class where this pierced work is
associated with groups of little figures, in biscuit, in high or full relief—as
is well illustrated by a series of small cups in the Salting collection, some of
which bear traces of gilding and colours.
The term ‘rice-grain’ was originally applied to the open-work diapers
filled in with glaze. As a whole this kind of work may be referred to the
later part of the reign of Kien-lung, and especially to that of his successor,
Kia-king (1795-1820), so that it is not unlikely that the Persian frit-ware,
some of which is of earlier date, may have served as a model.
Blue and White Ware.—This is, on the whole, the most important as
well as the best defined class of Chinese porcelain. The Chinese name,

Ching hua pai ti (literally ‘blue flowers white ground‘), defines its nature
well enough.
We have no information as to the origin and development of blue and
white porcelain in China, nor indeed do I know of any collection where an
attempt has been made to classify the vast material. We must here content
ourselves with a few notes which at best may indicate the ground on which
such a classification should be made. We have seen (p. page 75) that there is
at least some presumptive evidence that the Chinese may have derived their
knowledge of the use of cobalt (as a material to decorate the ground of their
porcelain) from Western Asia, at a time when both China and Persia were
governed by one family of Mongol khans. For we know now that in Syria
or in Persia, in the twelfth or early in the thirteenth century, a rough but
artistic ware was painted with a hasty decoration of cobalt blue and covered
with a thick alkaline glaze; while in China, at that time, we have no
evidence for the existence of any porcelain other than monochrome.
It is possible that the earliest Chinese type of the under-glaze blue may
be found in certain thick brownish crackle ware, decorated under the glaze,
in blue, with a few strokes of the brush. Plates and dishes of this kind have
been found in Borneo, associated with early types of celadon.[97] A similar
ware, not necessarily of great antiquity, is often found in common use in the
north of China and, I think, in Korea, and with it we may perhaps associate
the greyish-yellow Ko yao decorated with patches of blue and white slip.
It is very likely that there would be a strong opposition on the part of the
Chinese literati to such a novel and exotic mode of decoration, but that such
opposition would be less felt in the case of ware made for exportation, or it
may be for use among the less conservative Mongols. We have an instance
of a similar feeling in the protest that we know was made some two or three
hundred years later against the application of coloured enamels to the
surface of porcelain.
Of the thousands of specimens of blue and white porcelain in our
collections there is probably no single piece for which we can claim a date
earlier than the fifteenth century. We can, however, distinguish two

PLATE XIX. CHINESE BLUE AND WHITE WARE

types among the examples, which for the reasons given on page 83 we may
safely assign to the Ming period. The first is distinguished by a pure but
pale blue, and the design (generally somewhat sparingly applied) is
carefully drawn with a fine brush. This, it would seem, was the ware
imitated by the Japanese at the princely kilns of Mikawaji. The other type is
distinguished by the depth and brilliancy of its colour, the true sapphire tint,
differing from the later blue of the eighteenth century, in which there is
always a purplish tendency. There are some good specimens of this type in
the British Museum, but we will take as our standard a jar at South

Kensington about twelve inches in height (Pl. xix.). The remarkable
thickness of the paste in this vase shown in the neck, which has at some
time been cut down, the marks of the junction of the moulded pieces of
which it was built up, the slight patina developed in the surface of the glaze,
are all signs that point to an early origin. But what is above all noticeable is
the jewel-like brilliancy of the blue pigment with which the decoration—a
design of kilin sporting under pine-trees—is painted.
When we come to the reign of Wan-li (1572-1619), to which time we
may assign the beginning of the direct exportation to Europe of Chinese
porcelain, a period of decline has already set in. The rare pieces of blue and
white so prized in Elizabethan and early Stuart days are in no way
remarkable either in their execution or in their decoration.
We come now to an important class of blue and white ware which looms
out large in many collections. I mean the big plates and jars with roughly
executed designs often showing a Persian influence. The blue is never pure
—indeed it is often little better than a slaty grey, and sometimes almost
black. Most of what the dealers now know as ‘Ming porcelain’ may be
included in this class. To understand the source of this porcelain we must
refer the reader to what we shall have to say in Chapter xiii. about the trade
of China with Persia in the time of Shah Abbas and with the north of India,
during the reigns of the great Mogul rulers of the seventeenth century. The
increasing demand from these countries coincided with a period of decline
in China, for the period between the death of Wan-li in 1620 and the revival
of the manufacture at King-te-chen towards the end of that century, is
almost a blank in the history of Chinese porcelain. But the export trade that
had sprung up at the end of the sixteenth century was actively carried on in
spite of the political troubles, and at no other time was the nature of the
ware produced so largely influenced by the foreign demand. But this
demand was at first chiefly for the Mohammedan East, and what reached
Europe was mostly the result of re-exportation from India and from the
Persian Gulf.[98] This picturesque and decorative ware is well represented at
South Kensington by specimens obtained in Persia, and many fine pieces
have lately been brought from India. Of this class of blue and white ware
we have already spoken in a former chapter (see page 84).
In Egypt, again, blue and white porcelain was greatly appreciated both
for decorative purposes and for common use. Large plates and dishes

painted with a scale-like pattern, formed of petals of flowers, are still to be
found in the old Arab houses of Cairo.
Already by the beginning of the seventeenth century plates and bowls of
the Sinico-Persian type must have reached Holland in large quantities, and
we find them frequently introduced into their pictures by the still-life
painters of the time. I will only give two examples: (1) A large still-life at
Dresden by Frans Snyders (1579-1657), where as many as eight plates and
bowls, mostly roughly decorated with a greyish cobalt sous couverte, are
introduced; (2) a small picture in the Louvre by William Kalff (1621-1693).
Here we see a large ‘ginger-jar’ with deep blue ground and white reserves.
The porcelain introduced by the Dutch painters is without exception of the
blue and white class, and in the earlier works the slaty blue tints are the
most common.
But European influence must now and then have made itself felt in
China before this time, to judge by some large jars at Dresden decorated
with arabesques of unmistakable renaissance type. One of these has been
fitted with a lid of Delft ware, made to match the other covers of Chinese
origin, and this Dutch-made lid cannot be dated later than the first half of
the seventeenth century.[99]
But it is to the next age that the bulk of the vast collection of blue and
white brought together at Dresden by Augustus the Strong belongs. The
lange Lijzen, the famous dragon-vases, the large fish-bowls, and the endless
series of smaller objects collected by his agents from every side, have made
this royal collection a place of pilgrimage for all china maniacs since his
day. Not that the general average of the blue and white ware is very high.
We find here for the first time specimens of the famous ‘hawthorn ginger-
jars’ so dear to later collectors of ‘Nankin china.’ Of course this porcelain
did not come from Nankin, the jars were never used for ginger, and the
decoration was not derived from the hawthorn—a flower unknown in
Chinese art. But it is in these jars that the modern connoisseur, both in
England and America, has found the completest expression and highest
triumph of the art of the Far East. No words are too strong to express his
enthusiasm. We are especially told to look for a certain ‘palpitating quality’
in the blue ground. We hear from Dr. Bushell that these ‘hawthorn jars’ are
in China especially associated with the New Year; filled with various
objects they are then given as presents. The decoration of prunus flowers (a
species allied to our blackthorn) is relieved against a background of ice, and

it is the rendering of this crackled ice in varying shades of blue that gives
the special cachet to the ware.[100]
There is a curious variety of blue and white in which the outline of the
design is filled up by a hatching of cross-lines as in an engraving. The
prototype of this kind of decoration probably dates from Ming times, and it
may possibly be derived from some kind of textile.

Enamel Colours over the Glaze.—We have already attempted to follow
the stages by which the application of enamel colours over the glaze found
its way into general use. We saw that before the introduction of fusible
enamels melting at the gentle heat of the muffle-stove, somewhat similar
effects were obtained by painting with certain colours upon the already
fired body or paste—on a biscuit ground, in fact. The coloured slip used in
this way, differing in no respect from a true glaze, was then subjected to a
fire of medium intensity, that is to say, it was exposed to the demi grand feu
of the kiln.
I think that the obscure problem of the nature of the coloured ware so
minutely described by Chinese writers and ascribed by them to early Ming
times, and the relation of this ware to the first forms of the famille verte can
only find its solution by allowing a wider play to the use of painting on
biscuit and subsequent refiring, and that there may probably have existed
intermediate stages between the demi grand feu and the fully developed
muffle-stove. It is indeed possible that the same pieces may have
successively been exposed to both these fires.[101]
The curious bowl, of very archaic aspect, lately added to the Salting
collection (see note, p. 89), illustrates well the difficulties in accepting as
final a decision as to date based upon the nature of the enamel. This bowl
bears the nien-hao of Ching-te (1505-21), and may well date from that time,
but among the enamel colours over the glaze we find a cobalt blue (of a
poor lavender tint indeed); we are told, however, that the use of cobalt as an
enamel colour was unknown before the time of Kang-he.[102]
Of the many schemes and varieties of decoration that crop up in the
course of the eighteenth century as a consequence of the increased palette at
the command of the enameller and of the miscellaneous demand for foreign
countries, we have already said something. Many important types must
remain unmentioned, and some are indeed scarcely represented in our home

collections. Of this I will give, in conclusion, a striking instance. In the
whole of the great collection at Dresden, now so admirably arranged by Dr.
Zimmermann, there is perhaps nothing more striking than the circular stand
covered with a trophy of large vases, the decoration of which, though bold
in general effect, is entirely built up by fine lines of iron-red helped out by a
little gold. These vases, from their fine technique, I should assign to the end
of the reign of Kang-he, or possibly to that of Yung-cheng (1722-35). It is a
curious fact that by these parallel lines of iron-red an effect is produced at a
distance very similar to that obtained by a wash of the rouge d’or. Possibly
the aim was to imitate that colour. I have seen a similar effect produced by
red hatching on some English ware of the eighteenth century. I do not think
that this porcelain was made for the Persian market, as has been asserted,
for in that case we should find specimens of it in the South Kensington
collection.[103] There is, I think, only one example of this ware in the British
Museum, and in the Salting collection only a pair of insignificant cups and
saucers. On the other hand, in the Dresden collection, whole classes even of
eighteenth century wares are unrepresented. I mention these facts to
accentuate the vast field covered by Chinese porcelain. It must be borne in
mind that the Chinese manufactured for the whole civilised world, and that
the taste and fashion in each country influenced, though often very
indirectly, and in a way not always to be recognised at first sight, the forms
and the decoration of the objects exported to it. This influence, making for
variety and change, has been in constant conflict with, and has
counteracted, the native conservative habit. It is an influence that has
probably made itself felt from very early days, but it culminated in the
eighteenth century. Indeed the rapid decline of Chinese porcelain that set in
before the end of that century was in no small degree promoted by the
unintelligent demand from Western countries at that time.
We shall later on have to look upon this question
Plate XX.

Chinese Design in red
and gold.
from a reversed point of view, and we shall have to notice how the fictile
wares of other countries were influenced, and finally in part replaced by the
products of the kilns of King-te-chen. For in any general history of
porcelain this influence of the East upon the West, together with the return
current from West to East, is the central question. By bearing in mind these

mutual influences a simplicity and unity are given to this history which we
might look for in vain in that of any other art of equal importance.
How the porcelain of King-te-chen found its way at first to the
surrounding minor states—to Korea, to Indo-China, and to Japan—and was
more or less successfully copied in these countries; how, on the other hand,
in India and in Persia the foreign ware, though long in general use, was
never imitated;[104] and how, finally, after reaching the Christian West this
porcelain influenced and in part replaced the homemade fayence, even
before the secret of its composition was discovered—these, I think, are the
prime factors in the history of porcelain.
It will, however, be convenient to say something of the porcelain made
in the surrounding countries, especially in Japan, before taking up the
subject of the Chinese commerce with Europe, for this reason among
others: the products of the Japanese kilns became so inextricably mixed up
with those of King-te-chen in the course of their journey to the West, that it
would be impossible to treat of the one class apart from the other.
But before ending with the porcelain of China we must take a rapid
glance at a large and complicated group—that decorated wholly or in part in
European style.
Quite early in the century, perhaps before 1700, figures and groups in
plain white ware, for the most part attired in the European costume of the
day, were exported from China. Many of these grotesque figures may be
seen in the great Dresden collection, and a few in the British Museum. Later
on it became the fashion for the European merchants at Canton to supply
the native enamellers of that city with engravings, to be copied by them in
colours on the white ware sent down from King-te-chen. In other cases the
captain of a Dutch or English vessel lying in the Canton roads would
employ a native artist to decorate a plate or dish with a picture of his good
ship.
But the most frequent task given to these Canton enamellers was the
reproduction of elaborate coats of arms upon the centre of a plate or dish, or
sometimes upon a whole dinner-service. There is in the British Museum a
remarkable collection of this armorial china, brought together for the most
part by the late Sir A. W. Franks.[105] Orders came not from England alone,
but from Holland, Sweden, Germany, and even Russia. Services were thus
decorated for Frederick the Great and other royal heads. The practice seems

to have been kept up during the whole of the eighteenth century, but we do
not know the precise date at which it was introduced. In a few cases—the
large Talbot plate in the British Museum is an instance (Pl. xxi.)—the arms
were painted in blue under the glaze, and such decoration was probably
executed at King-te-chen. The small plate with the Okeover arms in the
same collection was, according to the family tradition, ordered as early as
the year 1700, but the decoration in my opinion would undoubtedly point to
a later date[106] (Pl. xii. 2).

PLATE XXI. CHINESE, BLUE AND WHITE WARE

It is hardly necessary at the present day to mention that this armorial
china has nothing to do with Lowestoft. A fictitious interest was, however,
long given to this ware by its strange attribution to that town.
Much Chinese porcelain, either plain white or sparely decorated under
the glaze with blue, was imported during the eighteenth century, to be
daubed over, often in the worst taste, with a profusion of gaudy colours, in
Holland, in Germany, and in England. At Venice, too, the plain Oriental
ware was at one time elaborately painted with a black enamel.
More interest attaches to the porcelain enamelled at Canton for the
Indian market. The Chinese seem in some way to have associated the yang-
tsai or ‘foreign colours’ with the enamels made in the south of India,
especially at Calicut, and it is possible that Indian patterns and schemes of
colour may have influenced some of the developments of the famille rose.
The Canton enamellers must at the same time have been working on the
richly decorated ware for the Siamese market, but it is on their enamel
paintings on copper that the Indo-Siamese influence is chiefly seen (see
next chapter).
Nor were these exotic schemes of decoration confined to the Canton
enamellers. At more than one time there was something like a rage for
copying foreign designs—Japanese, among others—at King-te-chen, and
that not for trade purposes alone, for as we have mentioned already, both
Kang-he and Kien-lung seem to have taken a passing interest in the strange
productions of the outer barbarian.
Of the many kinds of ceramic wares made in different parts of China
which from the opacity of the paste we cannot class as porcelain, we can
only mention two, both of which would probably come under the head of
our kaolinic stoneware:—1. The Yi-hsing yao, made at a place of that name
not far from Shanghai, which includes the red unglazed ware, esteemed by
the Chinese for the brewing of tea. This is the so-called Boccaro
successfully copied by Böttger. Sometimes we find this stoneware painted
with enamel colours thickly laid on, and the design is often accentuated by
ridges or cloisons. 2. The Kuang yao, of which there are two classes. The
ware made near Amoy is a yellowish to brownish stoneware, thickly glazed
and rudely decorated. This coarse pottery is much in favour with the
Chinese colonists in America and elsewhere. Again in the south of the
province of Kuang-tung, at Yang-chiang-hsien, a reddish stoneware has

long been made. It is covered with a thick glaze, often mottled, more or less
blue, and sometimes resembling the flambé glazes of King-te-chen. Indeed
this Kuang yao at one time was copied at the latter place.[107] It is often
stated that true porcelain was made in Kuang-tung, but the evidence on the
whole is against this. We will quote, however, what the Abbé Raynal says
(Histoire du Commerce des Européens dans les Deux Indes, 1770). He
states that competition with King-te-chen had been abandoned ‘excepté au
voisinage de Canton, où on fabrique la porcelaine connue sous le nom de
porcelaine des Indes. La pâte en est longue et facile; mais en général les
couleurs sont très inférieures. Toutes les couleurs, excepté le bleu, y
relèvent en bosse et sont communément mal appliquées. La plupart des
tasses, des assiettes et des autres vases que portent nos négocians, sortent de
cette manufacture, moins estimée à la Chine que ne le sont dans nos
contrées celles de fayence.‘[108] Compare with this what we have said about
the rough porcelain exported to India in the seventeenth century (p. 85).
Since the extinction of the Ting kilns an opaque white stoneware has
been largely manufactured in the north, and near Pekin a commoner
earthenware is largely made (Bushell, pp. 631-638).
The bricks with which the Porcelain Tower of Nankin was constructed
were for the most part composed of a kaolinic stoneware.
Finally, we should point out that nearly all these various kinds of
stoneware are represented in the British Museum collection.

C H A P T E R XI

THE PORCELAIN OF KOREA AND OF THE INDO-CHINESE PENINSULA

Korea

T HE self-contained culture of the Middle Kingdom spread at an early
time to the less advanced and more or less tributary countries that
surrounded it: on the south to the confused complex of states that are
conveniently grouped together as Indo-China; on the north to Korea; and on
the east, or more accurately on the north-east, to Japan. To these islands,
however, the Chinese civilisation for the most part spread by way of Korea,
and as this was in a measure the route taken in the case of the potter’s art, it
may be well to deal first with the great northern peninsula.
The Chinese claim to have conquered and even incorporated Korea as
long ago as the Tang dynasty (618-907 A.D.), and even before that time the
country had been overrun by the Japanese. The latter people have at all
times presented themselves to the Koreans as ruthless conquerors and
pirates, and indeed they succeeded during their last great expedition at the
end of the sixteenth century in sweeping the country so bare that to this day
its poverty and the low state of its artistic culture is generally attributed to
this gigantic razzia from which the country never recovered. And yet Korea
has always taken a place in Japanese estimation second only to China as a
source of their artistic and practical knowledge, if not of their literature and
philosophy; and this is especially the case with regard to the potter’s craft—
the technical part of it above all. Time and again do we hear of famous
Korean potters, or even of whole families and tribes, being brought over
and set to work by the local Japanese ruler either with the materials they
brought with them, or with the clays and glazes that their experience
enabled them to discover in their new homes.
We need not, therefore, be surprised to find that after the wonders of
Japan had been laid open to the admiration of the West, the greatest hopes
were entertained of finding artistic treasures at least as valuable in the great
peninsula to the west which still remained a forbidden land. Failing direct
evidence of this wealth, it became the habit to attribute to Korea any

Oriental ware, old or new, of which the origin was unknown. This tendency
was taken advantage of by more than one enterprising dealer, and when at a
later time the country was in a measure thrown open, cases of gorgeously
decorated Japanese ware, brand-new from Yokohama or Nagasaki, were
sent round by way of Chemulpo, the port of the Korean capital, so that their
Korean origin could be guaranteed. Long before this, the home of an
important group of Japanese porcelain, that now generally known as
‘Kakiyemon,’ had been found by Jacquemart in Korea. Now that of late
years these various fallacies and supercheries have been exposed, and that
the extreme poverty of the land in artistic work of any kind has been
demonstrated, we may perhaps see a tendency to an undue depreciation of
the artistic capabilities of the country in former days. We must at any rate
remember that the Japanese experts, who are in the best position to know,
have always maintained that the Koreans in the sixteenth century were
possessed of the secret of enamelling in colour upon porcelain, or, at all
events, that they were acquainted with the coloured glazes of the demi
grand feu, and that so good an authority as Captain Brinkley has accepted,
as of Korean origin, specimens of enamelled ware still existing in Japanese
collections.
Meantime we must be contented with the scanty examples of pottery,
stoneware, and porcelain that have been actually brought home from Korea,
and among these pieces we must discriminate between the wares of native
manufacture and the porcelain that had been imported from China, either
overland by way of Niu-chuang or across the Gulf of Petchili from the ports
of Shantung. Of late years many specimens have been collected, chiefly at
Seoul, the capital, especially by members of the various foreign legations,
and some of these have found their way into European museums.[109]
Apart from some small pieces of modern blue and white and enamelled
wares, undoubtedly of true porcelain, but very rough in execution and poor
in colour, which are said to be of local manufacture, we find:—
1. A plain white ware often showing signs of age, but apparently in no
way differing from the ivory-white ware of Fukien. Japanese experts,
however, claim to distinguish pieces of Korean origin. Such specimens are
much valued in Japan, and some are said to have been brought back after
the great expedition at the end of the sixteenth century. We find also
specimens of a heavy white ware, with decoration in a high relief, which is

undoubtedly of native origin. At Sèvres is a large white vase, with dragons
in relief, brought from Seoul.
2. Celadon porcelain, of many types. Of this ware there are many
specimens in our museums. At Sèvres we find two bowls of a fine rich tint
of olive green, presented by the King of Korea to the late President Carnot
‘as the most valuable of the ancient productions of his poor country.’ In the
same collection may be seen a case full of important specimens brought
back in 1893 by M. de Plancy, the French diplomatic agent at Seoul.
Among them are some large rude celadon vases, one with some attempts at
blue decoration under the glaze. In the British Museum are several celadon
bowls, some with moulded floral patterns in relief. Among some bowls of a
greyish celadon from Korea, in the Ethnographical Museum at Dresden, I
noticed some with an unglazed ring on the upper surface, pointing to a
primitive method of support in the furnace, perhaps similar to that formerly
employed in Siam. Dr. Bushell quotes from a Chinese work on Korea,
written in the first half of the twelfth century, an account of the elaborately
moulded wine-cups and vessels of all kinds made in that country. This ware
is described as of a kingfisher green, but it may probably be regarded as a
full-coloured variety of celadon. This interpretation is confirmed by a later
Chinese work (published 1387), which distinctly says—I quote from Dr.
Bushell’s translation—‘The ceramic objects produced in the ancient Korean
kilns were of a greyish green colour resembling the celadon ware of Lung-
chuan. There was one kind overlaid with white sprays of flowers, but this
was not valued so very highly’ (Oriental Ceramic Art, p. 681).
3. An important class of Korean ware is formed by the coarsely crackled
pieces of brownish or yellow colour, which in China would probably be
classed as Ko yao. These are often roughly decorated with daubs of blue
under the glaze, resembling in this some of the older pieces brought from
Borneo.
4. A greyish ware, inlaid with designs of white slip, on the principle of
our ‘encaustic tiles’ of the Middle Ages. This is perhaps the only original
type that we can connect with Korea, and it would seem that this is the ware
alluded to at the end of the quotation we have just given from an old
Chinese book. This inlaid ware appears to have been greatly admired by the
Japanese, for it was closely imitated in more than one district. The well-
known Yatsushiro pottery, first made in the province of Higo in the
seventeenth century, is distinctly a copy of this Korean model. Among the

specimens at Sèvres brought home by M. de Plancy, there is a tall vase of
this type cut down in the neck decorated with flying cranes in white slip.
This ware, however, is not a true porcelain; at the best it is a kind of
kaolinic stoneware, and the same may be said of most of the old heavy
pieces brought back from Korea.
There is not much in the way of decorative design to be found on any of
the varieties of Korean porcelain or stoneware that we have now described,
and we may look in vain among the few ornamental motifs to be found on
these wares for any marked divergency from Chinese types.

Siam and the Indo-Chinese Peninsula.

Under the somewhat vague heading of Indo-China we will collect a few
notes upon the specimens of porcelain that have been found in the various
states into which the great peninsula that stretches south between the China
Sea and the Bay of Bengal is divided.
In looking through the artistic productions of all these countries, we find
one marked characteristic; and that is the way in which Chinese forms and
Chinese decorative motifs have pushed their way in and in part replaced the
old Buddhist and Brahmanistic styles.
As matters now stand, the most important for us of these states is Siam,
for here we are at once brought face to face with one of the places of
manufacture of the famous heavy celadon ware which in the Middle Ages
was carried by Arab and Chinese traders over all the seas of the then known
world. We shall have in a later chapter to come back to the question of this
trade, and then we shall be able to show that the discussion as to the origin
of this martabani ware has been the means, as is indeed often the case in
such disputes, of throwing much light on the early history of Chinese
porcelain.
For the present we are only concerned with an important discovery quite
recently made not far from the frontier of Siam and Pegu. Many specimens
of celadon, some of the older type, have come in recent years from various
parts of Indo-China. In the museum at Sèvres are some pieces of rough
greyish ware, with a thick, irregularly crackled glaze, brought back in 1893
by the Mission Fournereux from Siam and Cambodia; among these
fragments of old celadon we find a pair of contorted bowls, fused together
in the kiln, in fact undoubted ‘wasters,’ such as could only be found in the

neighbourhood of the furnaces where they were fired. At the instigation of
Mr. C. H. Read of the British Museum, Mr. Lyle has lately explored the
remains of old potteries now hidden in deep jungle, at a place called
Sawankalok, not far from the western frontier of Siam. These old kilns are
situated some two hundred miles to the north of Bangkok, and about the
same distance from the port of Molmein (Malmen). To show the importance
of this discovery, we need only point out that near to the latter town lies the
old port of Martaban, which played so important a part in the mediæval
trade of the Arabs, and from which, doubtless, the name of Martabani, by
which celadon ware has always been known in the Mohammedan East, is
derived. Among the many fragments brought back by Mr. Lyle are some
which from their distinct translucency, and from the whiteness and the
conchoidal fracture of the paste, may be unhesitatingly classed as true
porcelain. The colour of the glaze varies from a prevailing greyish green to
a fine turquoise tint in a few specimens. That the ware was made on the spot
is proved by the presence of many defective pieces—‘wasters’ that had
been thrown away—as well as by the numerous conical props (for the
support of the ware in the kiln) found mixed with the fragments. On these
tall, nozzle-shaped props the plates and bowls were supported in an inverted
position. It is by this unusual method of support that we may account for the
fact that the glaze covers the whole of the lower surface—so exceptional an
occurrence in the case of porcelain—and at the same time for the absence of
the glaze from a ring-like portion of the upper surface. We may note that a
similar distribution of the glaze is found occasionally on large plates of the
old heavy ware brought from other countries; of this there are notable
examples in the museum at Gotha (see page 72). The ground in these
Siamese specimens has assumed where exposed, but there only, the deep
red so admired by the Chinese in the old Lung-chuan ware. The paste, in
many of the examples, has been moulded in low relief in the characteristic
lotus-leaf pattern, while on a few pieces there is a rough decoration in
greenish black under the glaze. All remembrance of these old kilns has
completely passed away, and at the present day the local market is supplied
with a rough stoneware brought overland from Yunnan.[110]
The porcelain now found in Siam, of which many specimens have been
lately brought to Europe, is of a very different character. This is the highly
decorated enamelled ware which may be classed with the famille rose from
the prevalence of the rouge d’or among the enamels. This ware, none of

which can be earlier than the middle of the eighteenth century, is certainly
made in China, but the presence in the decoration of

PLATE XXII. CHINESE

certain peculiar Buddhist types makes it rather difficult to believe that the
enamelling was in all cases executed in Canton. It is true that in the colours,
and in the general style of the decoration, we are often reminded of the
well-known Cantonese enamels on copper. The white surface of the ground
is, for the most part, entirely hidden by a floral decoration; but amid this, on
medallions surrounded by tongues of flame, we find centaur-like monsters
with human heads, above which rise almond-shaped nimbi. From the top of
the cover of the hemispherical bowls—the commonest form—rises a knob
in the shape of the Buddhist jewel. The enamel of this ware appears to scale
off readily, as if from imperfect firing. The prevailing colours are a deep red
for the ground, and a bright green relieved with white and yellow for the
design (Pl. xxii.). While the finer specimens, as we have already said,
remind us of the Canton enamels, others suggest rather, in the scheme of
colour and decoration, the painted and lacquered bowls of India and
Ceylon. In the Indian Museum at South Kensington may be seen an
exceptionally fine collection of this Sinico-Siamese porcelain, lent by
Signor Cardu, and a good opportunity is here provided for comparing its

decoration with that on the rough earthenware from Ceylon and various
parts of India which is exhibited in adjacent cases.
A coarse kind of porcelain is made in Annam. At Sèvres are some cups
presented by the envoy from that kingdom. The rude pattern of bamboos
painted in blue, sous couverte, on a greyish paste, does not give an exalted
idea of Annamese civilisation.
In Japan we sometimes find specimens of a somewhat rough but
picturesquely decorated ware, hardly a true porcelain, I think, which from
the country of its origin is known as Kochi. From the nature and colour of
its glaze it may be compared to some of the old Chinese wares of the demi
grand feu, and again, in certain points, to the earlier types of the Japanese
porcelain of Kaga and Imari. Kochi has been identified with Cochin-China,
but as the geographical ideas of the Japanese as to foreign states were not
very definite—derived as they were from the Chinese geographers of the
Ming period—we may perhaps be justified in looking further north for the
source of this ware, either in Tonquin or in some part of Kuang-tung, the
southernmost province of China.[111]

C H A P T E R XII

THE PORCELAIN OF JAPAN

I N any assemblage of the ceramic products of Japan, more especially in
one of native origin, it will be seen that porcelain no longer, as in China,
holds the place of honour. This place would be taken, in such a
collection, by a series of small bowls and jars mostly of a dark-coloured
earthenware, which offer little to attract a European eye. On the other hand,
a Western collector of Japanese ceramics would be likely to find more to
interest him in the decorated fayence of which the kilns of Kioto and
Satsuma have furnished the most exquisite examples. And yet, perhaps, in
no country, not even in China, do we find porcelain, and that of a high
technical quality, so largely employed for domestic use. The commonest
coolie eats his rice or drinks his tea or saké from a bowl or cup of porcelain,
while to find specimens of the old rough stoneware or earthenware we must
explore the Kura—the fireproof storehouses of the rich noble or merchant
—where, wrapped in cases of old brocade, these little objects are carefully
preserved and classified. It would be out of place here to enter into the
causes, political, social, and, we may add, also psychological, that have
influenced the Japanese mind in thus associating all that is refined and
intellectual with a class of pottery in which, to say the least, the artistic
possibilities are confined within very narrow limits. But, as is now well
known, this tendency has been fostered by the ceremonies connected with
the social gatherings known as the Cha-no-yu (literally ‘hot water for tea‘),
when the powdered tea is prepared in and drunk from examples of these
primitive wares. On such occasions the criticism and measured praise of the
utensils employed forms an important—indeed an almost obligatory—part
of the conversation among the guests.
The merits of Chinese porcelain, however, have long been acknowledged
by the Japanese. Possibly as early as the ninth century specimens of celadon
were imported. Direct communication with China has indeed since that time
been subject to many interruptions, and it has at all times been carried on
subject to galling restrictions and heavy duties levied by the governments of
both countries. The Japanese have at many times made piratical descents

upon the coast of China, and among the loot thus obtained many fine pieces
of Chinese porcelain may have found their way to Japan. There was,
however, a period in the fifteenth century during which a pretty steady trade
was kept up, under the patronage of the pleasure-loving Ashikaga Shoguns,
and many specimens of the earlier Ming porcelain must have reached Japan
at that time. It has always been the celadon ware that has found most favour
with the Japanese, and fabulous prices were, and indeed still are, given for
fine pieces. We may note that such specimens are as a rule associated in the
Japanese mind with the Yuan or Mongol dynasty. Speaking generally,
however, it was not to this direct intercourse with China that the Japanese
attribute their knowledge of ceramic processes. From an early date nearly
all that they knew of the continental lands of Asia seems to have reached
them from Korea, a country where they played alternately the part of
ruthless invaders and devastators, and of eager and submissive students.
Let us then rapidly glance over the records preserved by the Japanese of
their early lessons in the potter’s art, that we may better understand the
conditions under which the manufacture of porcelain was at length
established in the country at the end of the sixteenth century.
Of the early pottery of Japan—rude figures, coffins, and strange-shaped
vases of coarse earthenware dating from the early centuries of our era—we
know, thanks to the researches of Mr. Gowland, much more than we do of
the products of a similar stage of culture in China. In the British Museum
we may see a collection, unique of its kind in Europe, of prehistoric objects,
found most of them in or around the dolmen tombs of the early emperors,
and brought together in Japan by that energetic explorer. As, according to
Japanese tradition, Korean potters were in those early days already settled
in Japan, we need not be surprised to find that vessels of very similar shape,
but of a rather better ware, have also been found in Korean tombs.
The earliest ware whose origin we can trace to a definite spot, is that
formerly made at Karatsu, in Hizen, near to the great porcelain district of
later days. Korean potters are traditionally reported to have been established
here as far back as the early part of the seventh century. Of this primitive
ware we will only note that the pieces were placed in the kiln in an inverted
position, either without supports (the Kuchi-nashi-de, or ‘unglazed orifice
ware‘), or supported by two props of rectangular section (the Geta okoshi,
or ‘clog supports‘). This is a point of interest in connection with the similar
devices used in firing some of the early celadon. But, as Captain Brinkley

points out (The Chrysanthemum, vol. iii. p. 18), it was the introduction of
tea from China[112] early in the thirteenth century that gave rise, for the first
time, to a demand for a better kind of pottery.
Kato Shirozayemon, a native of Owari, made, we are told, a five years’
visit to China about this time (he returned to his native village of Seto in
1223) in order to study the potter’s craft. The ware that he succeeded in
making on his return to Japan has a reddish brown paste covered with a
dark glaze, streaked and patched with lighter tints. This was probably more
or less an imitation of the Kien yao, the ‘hare-fur’ cups made in the
province of Fukien in late Sung times.[113] These cups, so prized by the
Japanese, are of interest to us, as they may, in some degree, be regarded as
the ancestral type from which the long series of Japanese tea-bowls is
derived. But neither the ware of Toshiro (he is generally known by this
shortened form of his name), nor that of his followers, has any claim to be
classed as porcelain. It is, however, from Seto, the native village of Toshiro,
where he set up his kilns on his return from China, that the commonest
Japanese name for all kinds of ceramic ware, but more especially for
porcelain, is derived, and the district is now a great centre for the
production of blue and white porcelain.
Apart from this dark ware and from the heavy celadon, it would seem
that at this time, and even later, the only true porcelain known to the
Japanese was the white translucent ware of Korea, itself probably an
offshoot of some early form of Ting ware. That Toshiro, who must have
travelled in Fukien barely two generations earlier than Marco Polo, should
only have learned to make this one kind of dark ware, shows how locally
circumscribed was the knowledge and use in China, in Sung times, of
different kinds of porcelain.
We have to wait nearly three hundred years for the first attempts at the
manufacture of porcelain in Japan. Gorodayu Shonsui, the second great
name in the history of Japanese ceramics, made his way to Fuchow early in
the sixteenth century. He probably visited King-te-chen, and returned to
Japan in the year 1513, bringing with him specimens of the materials used
by the Chinese, both for the paste and for the glaze of their porcelain. But
although Shonsui on his return settled at Arita, in the centre of what was at
a later time the principal porcelain district of Japan, he appears never to
have discovered the precious deposits of kaolin in the neighbouring hills;
for when the supplies brought from China came to an end, he and his

successors had to fall back upon the manufacture of fayence. A few
specimens of the ware he made have been preserved in Japan, and it has
often been copied since Shonsui’s time—even in China, it is said. It is a fair
imitation of the Ming blue and white, and we may note that the plum-
blossom often occurs in the decoration. We are told that the secret of the
process of enamel painting was rigorously kept from Shonsui. We have
seen that it is at least doubtful whether this process was known to the
Chinese at that time, but the reference may be to the ware covered with
polychrome painted glazes.
There are two pieces attributed to Shonsui, on native evidence, in the
historical collection of Japanese pottery at South Kensington, but it is very
doubtful whether these very ordinary pieces of blue and white are even as
old as the later date (1580-90) somewhat strangely attributed to them on the
same authority.
And now the Korean potter is found again on the scene. It was reserved
for Risampei, a native of that country, to recognise for the first time—in
1599, it is said—the value of the white crumbling rocks out-cropping on the
hills that rise at the back of Arita. Here he built his kilns and succeeded in
making a fairly good imitation of the Chinese blue and white which was
now becoming more and more in request as an article of commerce.
At this stage we are brought into contact not only with the local history
and the politics of the day, but with the great questions of world traffic that
were being fought out at the time. The rich western island of Kiushiu had
long been the principal seat of the efforts of the Portuguese and Spanish
missionaries. They had nowhere more converts than on the coasts of Hizen
and on the adjacent islands. So that to one or more of these early kilns
established near Arita we may reasonably assign some at least of those
strange plates, painted with Biblical subjects, that have excited so much
curiosity. I will only point to the large dish with an elaborate picture of the
Baptism of Christ in the centre, now at South Kensington (Pl. xiv.). The
subject is painted in blue under the glaze and heightened by gilding. Around
the edge we find a design of little naked boys—amorini, in fact—playing
among flowers.[114]
We can find nothing in the Japanese records to throw light on the
porcelain made in Hizen during the first half of the seventeenth century, but
much of the somewhat roughly decorated blue and white ware (the larger

dishes especially, made for India and Persia) has been classed, on the
ground of the occurrence of spur-marks, and of the nature of the paste and
decoration, as Japanese.[115] Some of this ware may be as old as this time,
when (I mean shortly before the middle of the seventeenth century) the
demand from the West was ever increasing, and the Chinese supply was so
uncertain and so inferior in quality.
Meantime the Dutch and English factories on the island of Hirado,
opposite to the pottery district of Imari, were finally closed (1641), and all
communication with the outside world prohibited. The only exception made
was in favour of the strictly limited commerce carried on through the Dutch
and Chinese merchants, who were confined in their prison-like factories at
Nagasaki.[116]
Now it is a remarkable fact that our first definite information concerning
the introduction of Japanese porcelain into Europe dates from this very
period, and it is to approximately the same date that the Japanese ascribe
the introduction of coloured enamels among the Hizen potters. One
Higashidori Tokuzayemon, a potter of Imari, is said to have derived some
knowledge of the precious secret from the captain of a Chinese junk trading
at Nagasaki in 1648. With the assistance of Kakiyemon, a skilled potter of
the same district, he succeeded in imitating the five-coloured enamelled
wares of the Wan-li period. Another Japanese authority[117] gives the name
of his assistant as Gosu Gombei, and states that by 1645, after many
fruitless experiments, they were able to produce a ware decorated with
coloured enamels and with gold and silver, which was exported at first
through the medium of a Chinese merchant, and shortly after sold to the
Dutch.
So far from Japanese sources. On the other hand, we hear of an early
Dutch ambassador sent from Batavia—‘Le Sieur Wagenaar, grand
connoisseur et fort habile dans ces sortes d‘œuvres‘—in fact himself a
designer of patterns, one of which, it is said—white flowers on a blue
ground—found great favour at this time. In the same work[118] we are told
that this gentleman, who combined the most delicate diplomatic
negotiations with practical commercial undertakings, took back with him to
Batavia more than twenty thousand pieces of plain white ware (1634-35). It
is, however, very probable that the Dutch may have had a great deal to do
with the introduction of coloured enamels into Japan.

We must remember that during this time (say between 1630 and 1650)
two important series of events were coming to pass which revolutionised
the Eastern trade. These were, first, in China the troubles attending the
expulsion of the Ming dynasty, including the burning of King-te-chen and
the stoppage of the supply of porcelain for shipping at Canton; and
secondly, the final triumph of the anti-Christian party in Japan, and the
closing of the country to foreigners. It is no wonder, then, if the Dutch
ambassador was empowered to offer almost any terms to the Japanese,
provided that the latter would only make an exception in favour of the
merchants of his country.
Turning now from the records of the Japanese and of the Dutch
merchants, let us examine the specimens of Japanese porcelain that we find
in our oldest European collections, and which we may reasonably assign to
the seventeenth century. Apart from the blue and white, we find here two
classes of enamelled ware which we now know to be of Japanese origin.

PLATE XXIII. JAPANESE, KAKIYEMON ENAMELLED WARE

It may indeed be said that it was in the separation, and in the definite
attribution to Japan, of these two groups, that the first step was made
towards a scientific classification of Oriental porcelain, and for this work
we are chiefly indebted to the labours of the late Sir A. W. Franks. We will
first deal with what may on the whole be regarded as the oldest group.

Kakiyemon Ware.—Under this name it will be convenient to describe
the compact group of decorated porcelain that we find taking so prominent
a place in our old collections. Of this ware there is a most representative
series of specimens in the British Museum. There are also many interesting
pieces scattered through the rooms of Hampton Court. The chief
characteristics of this Kakiyemon ware are the creamy-white paste, without
the bluish tinge so common in other Japanese porcelain, the moulded forms
(in the case of the small vases and of the dishes with scalloped edges), and
above all the peculiar nature of the decoration that is somewhat sparely
scattered over the ground. Here we find the well-known combination of the
pine, the bamboo, and the plum (Japanese Sho-chiku-bai) associated with
quaintly executed figures in old Chinese costume. In the foreground is often
found a curious hedge or trellis-fence of straw or rushes, and at times, at the
side, a grotesque tiger is seen disporting in strange attitudes (Pl. xxiii.).
Exotic birds, singularly ill-drawn, are sometimes seen, but individual
flowers are introduced with great decorative feeling—witness the sprig of
poppy, a rare flower in Japanese art, on a plate in the British Museum.
There is a non-Japanese element in the design which seems to hamper the
native artist, but whether this element is to be sought in Holland or in Korea
—or perhaps in a degree in both—is quite uncertain.[119] As for the enamel
colours employed, the most important point is the use of a blue enamel over
the glaze. This colour is freely employed in combination with the usual
opaque red. The other colours, more sparingly used, are a green of emerald
tint, a pale yellow, and a poorish purple. The full command of a fine-
coloured blue enamel at so early a date is interesting. In the earlier Chinese
examples this colour is poor, and the enamel is apt to chip off. On a few
rare pieces of this Kakiyemon porcelain we see the blue applied under the
glaze, and there is one specimen in the British Museum on which the two
methods are combined. We rarely come upon specimens of this ware in
Japan. In China, at one time, it was copied for exportation, and Dr. Bushell
thinks that the porcelain classed as Tung-yang-tsai or ‘Japanese colours,’ in
the time of Kang-he, is of this class. A large octagonal jar at South
Kensington, somewhat crudely decorated in the Kakiyemon style, which
came from Persia, may possibly be of Chinese origin. There is, at any rate,
no doubt that this is the ware known, perhaps two hundred years ago, in
France as the première qualité colorée, and in England and Germany as ‘old
East Indian,’ It was reserved for Jacquemart to class it as Korean. It is,

however, remarkable that in neither the Japanese nor the Dutch records of
the time do we find any notice of a decoration at all resembling that found
on this ware. Any hint that is given from these sources would apply much
better to the class of porcelain that we have next to describe. In later
chapters we shall see that the important position given to this Kakiyemon
porcelain by our ancestors is reflected in the decoration applied to more
than one of the early wares of Europe.
Imari or Old Japan.—The many kilns that sprung up in the province of
Hizen during the

PLATE XXIV. 1. CHINESE. 2. JAPANESE.

course of the seventeenth century, along the slope of the hills that produced
both the china-stone and the china-clay, were chiefly occupied in making
blue and white porcelain, the sometsuke or ‘dyed’ ware of the Japanese, and
this, we may add, is still the case.
The underglaze blue indeed has always remained the dominant element
in the Imari porcelain, and to judge by the older pieces the employment of
other colours crept in gradually. This blue is generally of a peculiar dark
lavender or slaty tint, and with the addition to it of a little gilding we obtain
already the general effect of the ‘old Japan’ decoration. When to the blue
and gold was added an opaque iron-red (from this pigment the Japanese

succeeded in obtaining a great variety of fine tints), we attain to a scheme of
decoration which, at first sight, gives the impression of being built up with a
full palette of colours; this is the typical nishiki-de or ‘brocaded’ ware of the
Japanese (Pl. i.). Indeed in many of the finest specimens we find nothing
beyond these three colours—blue, red, and gold. But the blue, derived from
the native ore, the concretionary ‘wad,’ containing generally more
manganese than cobalt, is often wholly or in part replaced as the dominant
colour by a glossy black painted over the glaze, and this, too, in specimens
with some claims to antiquity. The other colours of the Chinese ‘pentad,’
the green, the yellow, and the purple, generally occupy quite subordinate
positions. It is to be noted that in this ware we never find the blue applied as
an enamel over the glaze.
It would be a mistake to regard the whole series of Imari enamelled
porcelain as made only for exportation. It is true that the large vases and
plates with the well-known effective but somewhat overloaded decoration
are not found in Japan, although such pieces have been made at Arita for the
last two hundred years for exportation from Nagasaki; but the more quietly
decorated ware of Imari, in endless forms and with decoration of the most
varied kind, has long been in general domestic use, and many smaller
pieces of great artistic beauty have been lately obtained from Japanese
collections.[120]
In fact, the early enamelled wares of Imari are recognised by the
Japanese as the fons et origo of most of the decorated porcelain, to say
nothing of the later pottery, of their country. We have seen how our ‘old
Japan’ group started from a slight modification of the blue and white, but
we must find place also for an early ware decorated in five colours,
somewhat in the Wan-li style. Of this ware but few pieces survive. The
tradition, however, was carried on at Kutani and at many of the Kioto kilns
in the eighteenth century.
Late in the seventeenth century the Kizayemon family obtained the
privilege of supplying the porcelain, decorated with cranes and
chrysanthemums, for the personal use of the Mikado, and at the present day
a member of this family is said to still claim the right of purveying to the
imperial court. It is to one of these Kizayemons, but not until the year 1770,
that the merit of the invention of seggars for holding the porcelain in the
kiln is given by the Japanese. It would seem that before that date no such

protection was given. That such a claim should be made shows how
completely Japan at this time was shut out from the rest of the world.
And here we may point out how self-contained was the development of
Japanese porcelain during the palmy days of the Tokugawa régime (say
from 1650 to 1850). As in the case of the kindred arts of metalware and
lacquer, any European influence was quite of a casual and what we may call
fanciful nature; while the new methods of decoration that came into use in

Plate XXV.
Japanese. Imari ware.

China in the eighteenth century were never recognised or copied, even if
they were known. What imitation there was of China was confined to the
copying of Ming types; the Manchus, in fact, were never acknowledged by
the Japanese, and their arts were under a taboo almost as strict as that
applied to the civilisation of the West. No better instance of this
conservatism could be given than the fact that the use of gold as a source of
a red pigment, the basis of the famille rose in China, appears to have been
unknown until the beginning of the nineteenth century, and even then the
rouge-d’or was but sparingly applied. On the other hand, the Chinese were
always eager, in the interest of trade, to copy the wares exported from
Nagasaki, and we shall see later on what an influence the various products
of the Hizen kilns had upon the porcelain of Europe.
These, then, were practically the only kinds of Japanese ceramic ware
known in Europe until the opening of the country in our days—the blue and
white or sometsuke, the ‘old Japan’ or nishiki-de, and the peculiar type
which we have classed as Kakiyemon. To this list we should perhaps add
the plain white ware, much of which was subsequently decorated in Europe.
These wares were all of them made in the kilns near Arita, nor do they
exhaust the products of even that district. But during the eighteenth century
the manufacture of porcelain spread to other parts of Japan where porcelain
was made exclusively for home consumption. Many of these kilns were
established under princely patronage, some in the very gardens of the feudal
lord, while a special interest is given to others by their association with
certain skilled potters and their descendants, whose names, in opposition to
what we found was the practice in China, we can thus connect with the
wares.
But we will first say something about the composition and the processes
of manufacture of the porcelain of Japan, dwelling, however, only on those
few points where we find divergences from the practices obtaining in
China.
In the first place, then, as to the composition of the paste. To judge from
the few trustworthy analyses of Imari ware that have been made, the paste
would seem to be of a very abnormal type; the amount of silica—70 to 74
per cent.—is quite unusual; there is an almost total absence of lime, so
important a constituent of Chinese porcelain; while we find from 4 to 5 per

cent. of the alkalis. But, in place of the potash found in the wares of China,
in the Japanese paste the prevailing alkali is invariably soda.
The materials of the porcelain made in Hizen were obtained originally
from the famous ‘Hill of Springs‘—Idzumi Yama—which rises behind the
town of Arita. Of late years, however, large quantities of clay and stone
have been brought from the island of Amakusa, which lies to the south. It is
from the products of decomposition of a volcanic rock, a kind of quartz-
trachyte, that these materials are obtained, not from a true granitic rock as in
Owari[121] and in most other seats of porcelain manufacture all over the
world.[122]
In the neighbourhood of Arita the raw materials lie conveniently at hand;
and in the Japanese accounts there is no definite reference to two distinct
elements in the constitution of the paste. However, that something
corresponding to our china-stone is made use of, is shown by the
importance attached to the methods by which the stone is reduced to
powder. The primitive stamping-mill, worked by a long lever of wood,
moved either by the foot of a coolie or by a simple hydraulic arrangement,
has long been employed for pounding the stone, and the hills around Arita
re-echo with the thuds of these mills.
The potter’s wheel plays here a larger part than in China, and the
Japanese are exceptionally skilful throwers. Still, notwithstanding some
native statements to the contrary, the use of moulds either of wood or of
terra-cotta has long been known—witness the old Kakiyemon porcelain.
We now come to the most important departure from the Chinese
procedure. In Japan, the ware (as is, indeed, universally the case in Europe)
receives a preliminary baking in a specially constructed biscuit kiln before
the application of the glaze. The adoption of this practice would seem to
point to a greater tenderness in the raw clay.
The glaze (Japanese kusuri—‘medicine‘) is prepared by mixing the
finely powdered china-stone with the ashes of certain kinds of wood. The
ashes from the bark of the usu-tree (Distylium racemosum) are especially in
request for this purpose, and it is certainly remarkable that these ashes
contain nearly 40 per cent. of lime, the element that is conspicuous by its
absence from the paste.
The furnaces in which the principal firing takes place are of a bee-hive
shape: they are arranged in rows of from five to ten hearths placed by

preference on the slope of a hill, so that each succeeding hearth rises two or
three feet above its neighbour. This plan is probably a modification of the
old Ming type of furnace, and the system, it is said, was introduced from
Korea.
The use of seggars appears never to have become general, and this is
probably the reason why the marks of ‘crow’s-feet’ and other kinds of
struts, used to support the vessel in the kiln, are often conspicuous on the
base of the larger pieces.
Neither in their glazes nor for their enamels have the Japanese ever made
use of any colours unknown to the Chinese, nor until quite recent times
have they paid much attention to single glazes. There is, however, one
important exception to this last statement, in the Sei-ji or celadon ware,
which with them has always been the ideal of classical perfection, and
which they have imitated with varied success. For their reds they have
always been confined to pigments derived from iron, but with these opaque
intractable materials they have obtained a great variety of effects, especially
by means of delicate gradations of strength. In the case of the blue under the
glaze, the Japanese have never attained to the mastery of their teachers:
there is very commonly a tendency of the colour to run, and a bluish tint is
thereby given to the white ground; the blue, moreover, on the older
specimens, is generally dull, and in modern times often crude and
unpleasant.
The shapes and uses of Japanese porcelain start, for the most part, from
Chinese models of Ming times, but there are a few forms that are not found
in China. The hi-bachi or fire-bowl, though more commonly of bronze, we
sometimes find made of celadon or of blue and white porcelain; the kôrô or
incense-burner, with a cover of pierced metal, is a form characteristic of
Japan; and the more elaborate choshi-buro or ‘clove-bath’ is, I think,
peculiar to the country; so, too, are both the saké-bottle of cylindrical or
square section, with a curved lip for pouring, and the little cups, in sets of
three, often of egg-shell ware, from which the saké is drunk. The use of the
miniature teapot, in which the better sort of tea is infused, is again confined
to Japan; but these little kibisho, unlike the vessels for powdered tea used in
the Cha-no-yu, have not, I think, been long in fashion.
We have described the three kinds of porcelain made in Hizen for
exportation to Europe, and we have seen that by the middle of the

seventeenth century this commerce, in the hands of the Dutch, and to some
extent of the Chinese, had already attained large proportions. Before turning
to the kilns that sprung up in other parts of Japan during the eighteenth
century—of these the origin in every case can be traced back directly or
indirectly to the early Hizen factories—we must say a word about some
other varieties of porcelain made in the same neighbourhood, but not
destined for foreign use.
The village or town of Arita, of which the better-known Imari is the port,
lies about fifty miles to the north-east of Nagasaki, and it may almost be
regarded as the King-te-chen of Japan. The clay and china-stone used there
is now brought, for the most part, from the adjacent islands, from Hirado,
from Amakusa, and even from the more remote Goto islands. By a
combination of some of the most important potters of the district, and with
the assistance of some wealthy merchants, a company, the Koransha, was
formed some twenty-five years ago,[123] and an attempt was made to keep
up the quality of the porcelain produced, at least from a technical point of
view. It was certainly time for some such effort to be made, for about that
period, just after the Philadelphia Exhibition, the arts of Japan reached
perhaps their nadir.
Mikôchi or Hirado Ware.—It was with a somewhat similar object that,
long before this—about the middle of the eighteenth century—the feudal
lord of Hirado had taken some of the kilns near Arita under his patronage,
and had also attempted to regulate the wasteful and careless way in which
the materials were quarried on the slopes of Idzumi Yama. This was the
origin of the beautiful Mikôchi (Mi-ka-uchi) ware, which was at first
produced only for the use of the prince and of his friends, or for
presentation to the Shogun.
To understand the important influence of this aristocratic patronage upon
the scattered kilns of Japan (only a few of these, indeed, produced
porcelain), I cannot do better than quote the words of Captain Brinkley,
perhaps our first authority on Japanese ceramics: ‘During the two centuries
that represent the golden age of Japanese ceramic art, that is to say, from
1645 to 1845, every factory of any importance was under the direct
patronage either of the nobleman in whose fief it lay, or of some wealthy
amateur whose whole business in life was comprised in the cultivation of
the Cha-no-yu. The wares produced, if they did not represent the
independent efforts of artists seeking to achieve or maintain celebrity, were

undertaken in compliance with the orders of the workman’s liege lord, or of
some other exalted personage. Considerations of cost were entirely set
aside, no expenditure of time and toil were deemed excessive, and the
slightest blemish sufficed to secure the condemnation of the piece.’ All
these conditions were swept away by the revolution of 1868 and by the
opening of the country to foreigners. ‘Codes of subtle æsthetics and
criticisms of exacting amateurs had no longer to be considered, but in their
stead the artist found himself confronted by the Western market with all its
elements of sordid haste and superficial judgment.’
To return to the Mikôchi porcelain, this Hirado ware, for it was known
also by that name, produced at the prince’s kilns, six miles to the south of
Arita, was for more than a hundred years regarded as the ne plus ultra
among Japanese porcelain, and its value was enhanced by the fact that the
ware never found its way into commerce. In the sous couverte blue it was
sought to imitate the paler type of the old Ming ware. The best-known
examples of this blue decoration are seen on the little cups delicately
painted with Chinese boys at play under pine-trees—the more the boys the
better the ware, it is said. Careful manipulation of the clay and finish of
surface has never been carried to a higher point than in the varieties of this
porcelain worked with pierced patterns and ornaments in relief, so prized by
Japanese collectors. On these we find, in addition to the blue, a peculiar tint
of pale brown. Of this coloured ware there are some good specimens at
South Kensington.
Ôkôchi or Nabeshima Ware.—The same high technical finish has been
attained in the Ôkôchi porcelain made at the village of that name (Ô-kawa-
uchi) three miles to the north of Arita. The kilns here were patronised by the
Nabeshima princes, who belonged to one of the greatest feudal families of
old Japan. In this case also, the small highly finished pieces were destined
for presents only and were never sold. This ware is generally to be
identified by the comb-like pattern (Japanese Kushi-ki), painted in blue
round the base of the cups and bowls.[124] Like the little Chinese boys of the
Mikôchi ware, this pattern is often seen on very inferior ware of quite
modern manufacture. A peculiar kind of finely crackled celadon was also
made at Ôkôchi.
In the Arita district are many other factories, some of which, as those at
Matsugawa, have at times produced excellent ware. Of most of these

private kilns, however, the chief outturn has always been confined to the
blue and white sometsuke for domestic use.

We have now to follow the steps by which the knowledge of porcelain
was carried from the western island to other parts of Japan. We had better
pass at once to the Kioto kilns, for although the manufacture of porcelain
was not introduced at the old capital so early as at some other places in the
main island, yet the skill of its artist potters and their connection with the
imperial court led, in the course of the eighteenth century, to the spread of
their influence in every direction.
Kioto was already in the sixteenth century the seat of more than one
ceramic industry, but it was not so much the problem of the materials for a
true porcelain, as the questions connected with the coloured enamels lately
brought over from the West, that excited the curiosity of the Kioto potter at
this time. The story goes that one Aoyama Koyemon (I quote again from
The Chrysanthemum, April 1883), who came to Kioto from the porcelain
district of Hizen, to obtain orders for the new enamelled ware, allowed the
secret of its manufacture to be wormed out of him by a crafty Kioto dealer,
and that for this breach of trust the wretched ‘traveller’ was crucified by his
liege lord on his return to Arita. This occurred just before the death of the
great ceramic artist Ninsei (about 1660), and the old potter at once obtained
the knowledge of the new enamelling process from the above-mentioned
crockery merchant. This man, we should add—the dealer—is said to have
gone mad when he heard the dreadful fate of his friend Koyemon—a fate
for which he was in so large a measure responsible. Such stories as this, and
there are other similar ones in the annals of Japanese ceramics, call to mind
the adventures of the experts of the eighteenth century, who trafficked with
the German princes in the arcana of the newly introduced porcelain, but for
these German experts the penalties for breach of confidence were not of so
severe a nature.
Nomomura Ninsei is generally held to be the greatest ceramic artist that
Japan has produced. The decorated stoneware and pottery that he turned out
late in life may be regarded as the common source from which the wares
produced in the two main groups of kilns in the neighbourhood of Kioto

took their origin. With one of these groups, with the wares produced in the
factories around Awata, we are not concerned here, for no porcelain was
ever produced in that suburb of Kioto. But to the other group of kilns,
called after the beautiful temple of Kiyomidzu, to the north of Kioto, belong
some of the most artistic specimens of porcelain in our collections. It was
here that this somewhat uncongenial material was forced for the first time
to adapt itself to the fanciful genius of the people. It was to this district that
the great original artist Kenzan, the brother of the still more famous Ogata
Korin, came towards the end of the seventeenth century. It is true that little
of this artist’s work is executed in a true porcelain, but his picturesque
signature, scrawled in black, is sometimes found on the so-called more
noble ware (Pl. B. 21). Like his brother Korin, Kenzan obtained his effects
by the simplest means, sometimes by mere patches of colour cunningly
distributed over the surface. The work of both these men has of late found
many admirers and imitators in France.
It was not till the beginning of the eighteenth century that we have any
definite record of the manufacture of porcelain in Kioto. About that time
Yeisen devoted himself to the imitation of Chinese celadon. If we are to
find any common note in the wares produced in the various Kioto potteries,
it would be in a certain studied rudeness both in shape and decoration, the
very opposite of the delicately finished products of the Hizen kilns. The rare
pieces of Ming porcelain with coloured decoration were eagerly sought for
and copied, not in a slavish way, but rather so as to catch the spirit of their
design. In fact these Japanese copies might be made to throw some light on
that rather obscure subject, the origin of enamel decoration in China in the
days of the later Ming emperors.
An apparently early class of Chinese enamelled ware, somewhat rudely
painted with a predominant iron red combined with a subordinate green,
was a great favourite with the Kioto potters, but we find also copies of the
Wan-li ‘pentad,’ the designs in this case sparely scattered over the ground,
generally in formal patterns of a textile type. The blue and purple ware with
ribbed cloisons which the Japanese associate with their mysterious land of
Kochi was also in favour, but at Kioto, I think, this ware was not copied in
porcelain. So of the blue and white made at this time at Kiyomidzu, it is
distinguished from both the Hizen and the Seto wares by a certain rudeness
in the shape and decoration, a character preserved by a great deal of the
sometsuke still made in this district.

Quite a different spirit was, however, brought in by Zengoro Riyozen,
the tenth descendant of a famous family of potters. This Zengoro was a
potter of universal genius, the foremost ceramic artist indeed of the peaceful
and luxurious period at the beginning of the nineteenth century, when the
Tokugawa Shogun at Tokiyo set an example of an extravagant expenditure
and brilliant display which was only too readily followed at the courts of
the great feudal nobles. In the art work of that time, in spite of the
unsurpassed perfection of execution and love of gorgeous decoration, we
can already trace the signs of a coming decay. Zengoro, besides reviving
with some success the deep sapphire blue, sous couverte, of Ming times,
succeeded in producing from an iron-oxide a red ground which vied with
the famous coral reds of the previous century in China. But it was rather the
Ming red, sous couverte, that made from ‘powdered rubies of the West,’ that
he professed to copy. Over the red ground of his plates and little bowls he
painted his design in gold of the finest quality, and on the white ground of
the inside placed a scant decoration of his under-glaze sapphire blue. Some
of these dainty little cups are shown in a table-case in the British Museum,
but if we compare them with the exquisite Ming bowls of a deep red
derived from copper in the same collection, the difference of the quality of
the two tints is at once apparent. As, however, it was a matter of convenance
to go back to a Ming model, it was with the latter ware that Zengoro’s work
was compared. It was for his success in this kind of decoration (produced
about the years 1806-1817) that the great Kioto potter received from his
patron, the prince of Kishiu, a seal with the character yeiraku, or reading in
modern Chinese Yung-lo, the name of the Ming emperor (1402-24) with
whom the red copper glaze is traditionally associated (Pl. B. 22).[125] This,
then, is the origin of the name Yeiraku kinrande for the ‘gold brocade’ ware
of Zengoro. At a later time this form of decoration was carried by Zengoro’s
son to Kaga, where in a debased form it became characteristic of a ware
with which our markets were at one time flooded.
Kishiu Ware.—This kinrande, however, is not the only kind of porcelain
with which the name of this protean artist is associated. Although the name
Yeiraku given him by the Prince Nariyuki is generally connected with his
brilliant red and gold ware, it was a porcelain of quite another kind that our
Zengoro the tenth, or perhaps his son Hozen, the eleventh of the family,
turned out from the kilns that had been erected by that prince in the garden
(the Ô-niwa) of his palace near Wakayama. The Japanese tell us that this

well-known Ô-niwa or Kishiu ware was made in imitation of a kind of
porcelain or fayence brought long ago from Kochi, a name generally
rendered as Cochin-China, in any case a country to the south of China. We
have seen grounds for associating this Ô-niwa yaki rather with an early type
of Chinese polychrome ware, painted on the biscuit with glazes of three or
perhaps four colours. In any case, in the Japanese ware the turquoise, the
purple, and the straw-coloured yellow (this last quite subordinate) are
applied in a similar fashion, and this is indeed practically the only Japanese
ware on which we find the turquoise colour that has played so important a
part in other countries. It is here the most important colour of the triad, but
occasionally we find it replaced by a deep, rich green. On this Kishiu or Ô-
niwa ware, known also to the Japanese as Kairaku from another seal used
by Zengoro (Pl. B. 20), the decoration is formed by ribs or lines which
separate the surface into shallow cloisons. In other cases the turquoise or
the aubergine purple is found alone as a monochrome glaze.
Very few, however, of the large vases of this ware that have been
exported of late years to Europe, and especially to America (where the
turquoise blue has always been a favourite, as in the case of Chinese
porcelain), can have come from the kilns in the ‘prince’s garden.’ This ware
has, indeed, for some time since, been imitated at many other places—at
Tokiyo, and since 1870 especially at Kobe, where vast quantities have been
manufactured for exportation. These copies have gone through the stages of
degradation in design and colour that usually accompany a large
commercial production.
Another famous potter, Mokubei, who worked at Kioto about the same
time, is said to have made great improvements in the moulds employed by
him, especially in those used for copying old Chinese pieces. But we
certainly cannot accept the statement that he was the first potter in Japan to
use moulds. This same Mokubei is said to have copied the richly glazed
stoneware of Kochi, a ware that had long been prized by the Japanese, and
to which, or rather to the kindred porcelain, we have already referred. It is
described as a hard pottery, with archaic moulded decorations, coated with
lustrous glazes of green, purple, yellow, and golden-bronze. Mokubei also
worked for the prince of Kishiu, and it would be interesting to know what
relation, if any, he had with Zengoro and his Ô-niwa yaki.[126]
Sanda Celadon.—The kilns set up at Sanda, a small town to the north-
west of Osaka, by the feudal lord of the district, have acquired in Japan a

great name on account of the celadon ware there made. This Sanda-seiji
was first produced at the end of the seventeenth century, and followed more
closely the famous old heavy wares of Lung-chuan than did the more
delicately finished celadon porcelain made about the same time at Ôkôchi
in Hizen. In addition to these wares, the Japanese lay claim to an ancient
celadon of native manufacture, and much ink has been spilt in Japan upon
the question of the origin of certain archaic pieces preserved in temples and
private collections. The bulk of the Sanda celadon, we should say, is a solid
useful ware with small artistic pretensions.
The Wares of Owari and Mino.—If, leaving Kioto, we take the old
high-road to Yedo—the Tokaido—we pass through a succession of villages
where the local wares are displayed in the stalls lining the route. Some of
this pottery is not without merit, and historical associations give interest to
more than one variety. But it is not till we have passed Nagoya, a large
industrial town at the head of the Gulf of Owari, that we enter a true
porcelain district—the only district in Japan that has vied with Hizen in the
production of porcelain for domestic use and for exportation. Not far off is
the village of Seto, the home of Toshiro; it was here that on his return from
China, early in the thirteenth century, he set up the first kiln that produced
in Japan a ware with any claims to artistic merit. But, as we have said at the
beginning of this chapter, the ware made by Toshiro was no true porcelain,
although the expression Seto-mono, derived from his native village, is used
rather for porcelain than for other kinds of pottery. The term is, in fact,
about equivalent to our word ‘china.’
It was not till nearly six hundred years after Toshiro’s day that the village
of Seto again became prominent, when in the year 1807 the art of making
porcelain was, after many difficulties, successfully introduced from Hizen.
This was thanks to the energy of the potter Tamakichi, who ventured a
journey to Hizen to find out the secrets of the manufacture. As a reward for
his services the privilege of wearing two swords and the rights of a samurai
were granted to Tamakichi by the lord of Owari. Here again we find the
new industry established under the fostering care of the local prince.
Over a wide district, more especially to the east on the borders of the
province of Mikawa, the decomposing granite furnishes an excellent raw
material, and centres for the manufacture of porcelain have sprung up
sporadically over a tract stretching away to the north, as far as the province

of Mino. But most of these kilns have never produced anything better than a
common blue and white ware.
In composition the paste of the Owari porcelain is much closer to the
normal type than that of the Hizen wares (see note, p. 190). Of late years
the Owari potters have succeeded in turning out pieces of unprecedented
size, in the shape especially of dishes and of slabs for the tops of tables.
From the artistic side, however, little can be said in favour of this ware: the
blue is generally crude in quality, often resembling that found on the
commoner European porcelain of later days.
Another art was revived some years ago in the neighbourhood of
Nagoya, the chief town of this district—I mean that of enamelling in
metallic cloisons (the Shipô, or ‘seven treasures’ of the Japanese), and of
late years the two industries have been combined by applying the metallic
cloisons and the enamel to the surface of porcelain. A similar ware has also
been made at Kioto, but in this case the soft fayence of Awata has been used
as a base. Enormous quantities of both these varieties of cloisonné have
been brought to Europe, and when we consider the amount of skilled labour
required in the manufacture, we can only marvel at the prices for which this
ware is retailed in London.
Much of the cheap Japanese blue and white sold in Europe comes from
this Owari district, but of late years more ambitious things have been
attempted there—monochrome glazes of the grand feu, including a curious
variety of flambé ware with a chocolate-coloured ground.
Kutani Ware.—There only remains one important centre of porcelain
manufacture for us to describe. This lies far away among the mountains that
skirt the western coast of Japan. The feudal lords of that country, however,
the princes of Kaga, were reputed to be the most wealthy of all the daimios
of Japan. A junior branch of this family, the lords of Daichoji, as early as
the first half of the seventeenth century established a kiln at the mountain
village of Kutani. In the year 1660 an emissary was despatched to Hizen to
spy out the land and learn what he could of the new processes lately
introduced there. The story of his difficulties is only another version of that
told of Tamakichi, the Seto potter. After many adventures, abandoning the
wife that he had been forced to marry at Arita and the child he had had by
her, he returned to Kaga, equipped with the desired information and
experience. He succeeded in making a true porcelain with a white ground,

decorated in a style founded, it is said, both on the contemporary Hizen
ware and on the enamelled stoneware of Kochi. Morikaga, a famous artist
of Kioto, was retained to furnish designs for the decoration. We have in the
British Museum a spherical vase, painted in the five colours with a series of
spirited figures, which may well date from that time (Pl. xxvi.). Examples
of this period are rare, but some of the old drug-pots, jealously guarded by
their owners, that were still, a few years ago, to be seen in the druggists’ and
herbalists’ shops of Osaka and Sakai, may perhaps be traced back to the
potters of the seventeenth century, either those of Kaga or those of Hizen.
At this time, in fact, the Kaga ware had hardly differentiated itself from that
of the parent province. It was not till the beginning of the eighteenth
century that the typical Kutani ware, one of the most original and decorative
ever turned out from Japanese kilns, was produced.
On a greyish paste, hardly to be reckoned as porcelain, the lustrous, full-
bodied enamels, almost unctuous in quality, are laid with a full brush. The
whole surface is generally covered, and a dark, juicy green is the prevailing
colour, over which a design of black lines is drawn. Next in importance
among the enamels there comes first purple, then a heavy blue enamel
which somewhat clashes with the other colours, and finally a full-toned
yellow. It would seem from Japanese accounts that this kind of ware was
not made after 1730, when there ensued a period of decay, but it is difficult
to believe the statement that the manufacture was not revived till 1810. The
picturesquely decorated bowls

PLATE XXVI. JAPANESE, KAGA WARE

and plates showing the greyish ground are probably later than those wholly
covered with the green enamel, and it might be possible to trace the date of
introduction of fresh means of decoration—gilding skilfully and boldly
applied or the use of white enamel in relief, especially for the petals of
flowers. Later, but still on ware of fine decorative effect, we find these
white petals tinged with pink, and this apparently is the earliest appearance
of the rouge d’or among Japanese enamels.

When did this new colour come in, and from what source? We may
perhaps associate its first use with the wonderful period, early in the
nineteenth century, of which we have already spoken, when all the restraints
to which the Japanese artist had been so long subjected were removed, the
crabbed critic with his tradition of Ming times was silenced, and a free rein
at length given to native exuberance in the use of gay colours and
naturalistic designs. But this was the end; as in the other arts, a period of
decline set in before the middle of the century, a decline that was
accelerated, but not first originated, by the throwing open of the country to
European influences a few years later.
With the Kutani potter, the beginning of the end seems to have coincided
with the introduction of the iron-red and gold decoration. This was brought
about when the assistance of one of the Zengoro family, Zengoro the
eleventh or Hozen, probably, was obtained from Kioto. At the same time the
brilliant decoration in enamel colours was still carried on, often enough
with happy effect, and this was kept up to quite a late period. In these latter
days the use of a true white porcelain again became prevalent—indeed the
materials are at the present day brought from Amakusa and other islands off
the coast of Hizen.
There are two marks that have always been associated with the Kaga
ware—first, the character for Kutani, the ‘Nine Valleys,’ the name of the
little mountain village where the ware was first made; second, the Chinese
word Fu (Japanese Fuku), meaning ‘prosperity’ or ‘wealth,’ written in the
seal character. We find this last mark painted in black on the back of the old
pieces covered with a green glaze (Pl. B. 23).

In our account of Japanese porcelain we have been hampered by the
restrictions imposed by our subject. Among Japanese ceramic products
there is a big middle class, what we have called kaolinic stoneware. Wares
of this kind, when made in neighbouring kilns and differing in their
decoration in no way from what may be classed as true porcelain—and this
is the case in the pottery districts of Kaga and around Kioto—have naturally
found their way within our limits. Other kinds quite as near to true
porcelain, such as the picturesque fayence of Inuyama or many of the old
Raku wares, have remained unmentioned. The temptation to overstep the

line has been great, inasmuch as so many of the wares showing originality
and real artistic merit lie distinctly on the further side.
We may say finally that a closer acquaintance with Japanese ceramics
will confirm what may be observed in the case of other branches of
Japanese art—in their painting, for example, and in their lacquer-ware. I
mean the important part played by the critic, using that term in a wide
sense, in restraining the native exuberance of the artist. The first tendency
of the European connoisseur is to regret the hampering influence of Chinese
tradition and the restrictions imposed upon all new developments. But when
these influences have for a time been removed, the facile productiveness of
the Japanese artist has always tended to land him in that pretty and over-
decorated style that has found its way into middle-class drawing-rooms at
home. We find a tendency to this unrestrained decoration and reckless
association of colours creeping into favour long

PLATE XXVII. JAPANESE, KAGA WARE

before the opening of the country. Indeed, centuries ago at Kioto, and even
perhaps in the old Nara days, a somewhat similar love of the trifling and
effeminate may be recognised now and again. The services rendered by the
severe traditions of the old Chinese schools of the Tang and Sung dynasties,
and by the ascetic spirit of the Cha-no-yu in keeping within bounds the
native tendency to luxuriant overgrowth, must not be overlooked. When
these influences were removed, the arts soon ran to seed.

C H A P T E R XIII

FROM EAST TO WEST

W E have now followed the steps by which the dependants and the
neighbours of the ‘Middle Kingdom’ to the North, the East and the
South, acquired the essentially Chinese art of the manufacture of
porcelain. The next stage in our history brings us at one step to Europe.
Before making this stride of more than a thousand leagues from Japan to
Central Germany, it will be convenient to bring together some of the
scattered references to the porcelain of China that have been laboriously
disinterred from the works of the Arab and Christian writers of the Middle
Ages, and to compare these statements with the scant account of the trade
with Western lands to be found in the Chinese books of that time. We shall
then trace rapidly the history of the stages by which the European nations
became better acquainted with the porcelain of the Far East so as finally to
master the secret of the manufacture.
For the earlier period we are dependent almost entirely upon Arab and
Chinese sources. The love of the marvellous, the spirit of Sindbad the
Sailor, has to be discounted in the first, and we have seen what reservations
we have to make in accepting the statements of the latter.
There is no doubt that it is in the extraordinary development of trade that
followed the wave of Arab conquest in the seventh century that we must
find the first possibilities of direct communication with the Far East. The
great advance made by China in the early and palmy days of the Tang
dynasty (618-907) no doubt opened the way for this intercourse. At that
time China was in possession of a civilisation in many respects as advanced
as that to be found either at Constantinople or at Bagdad.
As early as the year 700 of our era we find mention of a foreign
settlement at Canton, so that that town can claim a longer record than any
other Chinese port. But it was rather at Khanfu, as the Arabs called
Hangchow (or rather its port), the Kinsai of Marco Polo, that, in the time of
the next dynasty, the Sung (960-1279), the chief trade was carried on. Thus
we find that Edrisi, who wrote a work on geography (c. 1153) for Roger, the
Norman king of Sicily, is eloquent upon the riches of this port of Khanfu

and the neighbouring town Susak (perhaps Suchow), ‘where they make an
unequalled kind of porcelain called ghazar by the Chinese.’
At this time, though many Arab merchants were settled at the ports of
Canton, Zaitun, and Kinsai, the bulk of the commerce, it would seem, was
carried on in the larger and stronger junks of the Chinese, and the best
account that we have of the intercourse of China with foreign countries is to
be found in the report on external trade, written by Chao Ju-kua, early in the
thirteenth century.[127] This Chao was ‘inspector of foreign shipping’ at
Chüan-chou Fu, a town on the coast of Fukien, which may perhaps be
identified with the Zaitun of Marco Polo. In any case it was, at that time,
the principal starting-point for foreign commerce. We have in his report a
curious account of the trade with Bruni, on the north-west coast of Borneo,
an island with which the Chinese had already had some intercourse for
several centuries, and ‘green porcelain’ is mentioned by him in the list of
the merchandise there imported.
We need not dwell here on the well-known passion of the Dyaks of
Borneo for celadon porcelain, and the big prices that they are prepared to
give for fine old pieces (Cf. Bock, The Head Hunters of Borneo, p. 197
seq.). Of the specimens of celadon and other wares brought from this island
we shall speak shortly. Modern travellers tell us that the larger jars,
‘decorated with lizards and serpents’ (probably the early smooth-skinned
dragon of the Chinese), are preserved as heirlooms. Besides their medicinal
value they are a complete protection from evil spirits for the house in which
they are stored. From later Chinese writers (of the sixteenth century) we
learn that these large jars were used in Borneo in place of coffins, and it is a
significant fact that a similar mode of burial is still in use in Fukien, the
district from which these vessels were exported, but not elsewhere in China.
To return to our Sung inspector of trade, as quoted by Dr. Hirth, Chao
tells us that at the ports of Cambodja, of Annam, and of Java, the Chinese
bartered both green and white porcelain against pepper and other local
products. But at that time the great emporium for the Western trade was the
port known to the Arabs as Sarbaya, the modern Palembang in the island of
Sumatra. Here, or at Lambri, in the same island, the junks laid up for the
winter, and in the spring the Chinese goods were carried further west to
Quilon, on the Malabar coast of the Deccan, this time probably in Arab
bottoms. The porcelain and the other Chinese exports were now distributed
to the various lands with which the Arabs traded at that time. Chao Ju-kua,

in this connection, mentions Guzerate, and an island that most probably can
be identified with Zanzibar. At any rate, at this last spot fragments of
celadon porcelain have been discovered in recent days in association with
Chinese ‘cash’ of the tenth and eleventh centuries.
There are scattered notices of this Sinico-Arab trade in the works of
Arab geographers and travellers, from Edrisi to Ibn Batuta. The last writer,
indeed, states that Chinese porcelain has found its way as far west as
Morocco. It was a happy idea of the Director of the Ethnographical
Museum, in the Zwinger at Dresden, to collect from every available quarter
specimens of Chinese porcelain with the object of illustrating the wide
distribution of the ware in early days, apart from and mostly previous to
that brought about by European agencies. In this collection the heavy
celadon or ‘martabani’ occupies, as we might expect, a prominent place, but
the later enamelled wares, including even some special types that may be
included under the famille rose of the eighteenth century, have been found
both in Cairo and in Siam. Here we see large, heavy celadon plates, with
thick glaze of pea-soup colour, from the Celebes, from Mindanoa and
Luzon in the Philippine group, from Ceram and from other islands of the
further Indies. On some of these plates the glaze covers the whole foot, and
the unglazed ring, of deep red colour, on the upper surface, points to a
primitive method of support in the kiln similar to that formerly in use in
Siam. Other celadon plates (there are some huge ones, nearly a yard in
diameter, in the collection), differing little from those found in these
southern islands, came on the one hand from Cairo, and on the other from
Korea and from Japan. From Korea there are also specimens of a curious
crackle-ware with brownish glaze and a rough decoration in blue, and from
Java a figure of Kwan-yin of a native type, covered with a pale, almost
white, celadon glaze. In the same collection we find plates roughly
decorated with red and green enamels, a style of decoration which may
perhaps be traced back to the earlier enamels of Ming times. Examples of
this type of ware—some at least appear to be of porcelain—have been
found both in the Philippines and in Ceylon. To come down to more recent
times, pieces decorated with large peony-flowers, enamelled with an
opaque white tinted by the rouge d’or, on a bright green ground of leaves,
come from the Celebes, from Siam, and especially from Cairo.[128]
At Gotha, in the public museum, is a collection of Chinese porcelain
brought together by the late Duke of Edinburgh. It is remarkable for the

number of fine pieces of early celadon that it contains. As the unique
collection of Lung-chuan, of Ko yao and of other Sung wares formed by Dr.
Hirth, is now comprised in it, this is probably the most important
assemblage of early Chinese porcelain in Europe. These two German
collections, in the Zwinger at Dresden and at Gotha, complement and
illustrate each other. But we have in England, scattered through our
different museums and private collections, the materials for a series of at
least equal interest—I mean as a commentary on the history of the spread of
Chinese porcelain over the world, a subject to which we must now return.
In the early days of the Ming dynasty the commercial expeditions of the
Chinese took on a more aggressive character. In the time of Yung-lo (1402-
25) the eunuch Chêng-ho sailed with a fleet as far as Ceylon, and exacted
homage, so the Chinese records say, from the king of that island. In the next
reign, that of Hsuan-te (1425-35), the same admiral conducted a more
peaceful expedition to Hormus, at the entrance of the Persian Gulf, and in
company with merchantmen from India, traded with the ports of the Red
Sea, from Aden as far up as Jeddah. Both in Ceylon and at Jeddah (Tien-
fong is perhaps rather Mecca itself) we find mention of green porcelain
among the goods imported, and at this last port the Indian and Chinese
merchants established their factories at the very centre of the Mohammedan
world. (I follow the extracts from the Ming Annals given by Dr. Hirth.)
Still more important was the trade with Hormus and other ports of the
Persian Gulf. We hear incidentally, at a later time, of a large fleet of Chinese
junks at anchor in these waters. To us the Chinese trade with Persia is of
special interest, for when, after a brief interval of Portuguese rule, Hormus
fell into our hands, it was in a measure through the medium of the Persian
ports, and of similar depôts and factories on the Indian coast (as, for
instance, Surat) that we in England obtained our earliest specimens of
Chinese porcelain.
And now we must take up another thread of our inquiry and return to the
China of the thirteenth century, the China of Kublai Khan, the greatest of
the Mongol rulers, as described in the book of the Venetian traveller Marco
Polo. Here, in what is for us a classical passage, we find the first known
instance of the use of the word porcelain. Marco Polo has been describing
the wonders and riches of Zaitun, and he proceeds in his inconsequent way
—we will quote first from the old French text, probably the earliest—‘Et
sachiez que pres de ceste cité de Çayton a une autre cité qui a nom Tiunguy,

là où l’en fait moult d’escuelles et de pourcelainnes qui sont moult belles.
Et en nul autre port on n’en fait, fors que en cestuy; et en y a l’en moult bon
marchie’ (Pauthier, Marco Polo, chapter clvi.).
Translating from the later and more expanded Italian text, Colonel Yule
renders the corresponding passage as follows: ‘Let me tell you that there is
in this province a town called Tyunju, where they make vessels of porcelain
of all sizes, the finest that can be imagined. They make it nowhere but in
this city, and thence it is exported all over the world. Here it is abundant and
very cheap, insomuch that for a Venice groat you can buy three dishes so
fine that you could not imagine better.’ In the still later version of Ramusio,
printed at Venice in 1579, we find one of the first mentions of the old fable
that the porcelain earth was allowed to weather for two generations before
being used. (See Yule, Marco Polo, vol. i. p. cxxii. and vol. ii. pp. 186 and
190.)
Confining ourselves to the old French version, the point to bear in mind
is the use of the word ‘pourcelainnes’ in this sense as one familiar to the
reader and requiring no explanation. And yet in the two other passages of
Marco Polo’s book, where the word is found, it is used, and here too
without further explanation, for the Cowry shells (Cypræa) that then, as
now, took the place of money in certain markets of the East. There can be
little doubt that the ware of which Marco Polo spoke was some kind of
celadon, and Dr. Hirth’s identification of Tingui with Lung-chuan is perhaps
more plausible than the rival claims of Tekkwa and King-te-chen.
Ibn Batuta, the Arab traveller, who wrote nearly fifty years later, says
‘porcelain is made nowhere in China except in the cities of Zaitun and
Sinkalon (Canton).’ In this statement he is of course quite wide of the mark.
Like Marco Polo, however, he was struck by the cheapness of the ware, and
he mentions that it was exported as far as Maghreb (Morocco).
These ‘moult belles pourcelainnes,’ Marco Polo tells us, were to be
found all over the world. He was probably speaking, as we have said, of a
celadon ware, though it is possible that he may have seen the pure white
translucent porcelain of Tingchou. Our first distinct notice of porcelain out
of China is indeed of earlier date. In an Arab manuscript in the Bibliothèque
Nationale, treating of the life and exploits of Saladin, we are told that in the
year 1171 that great Emir forwarded from Cairo to his feudal lord
Nureddin, Sultan of Damascus, a present of forty pieces of Chinese

porcelain, doubtless found among the treasures of the recently conquered
Fatimite caliphs of Egypt.[129] We have every reason to believe that this
store of porcelain, found in the palace of the heretic caliphs of ‘Babylon,’
can have consisted of nothing else but the much prized ‘martabani,’ of
which such wonderful stories are told by the Arab and Persian writers.
The high estimation in which this ware was held in Persia at a later date
is well brought out in the following quotation from Chardin, who was in
Persia in 1672: ‘Everything in the king’s palace is of massive gold or
porcelain. There is a kind of green porcelain so precious that one dish alone
is worth 500 crowns. They say that this porcelain detects poison by
changing colour, but that is a fable.[130] Its price arises from its beauty and
the delicacy of its materials, which render it transparent, though above two
crowns in thickness.’ Again, in one of the tales of the Arabian Nights, we
hear of six old slaves who bring in a salad in a huge basin of ‘martabani’
ware.
Fragments of porcelain, the fine white paste covered with a greyish
green glaze, have been found in the rubbish-heaps both of Fostât or Old
Cairo and of Rha (the Rhages of the book of Tobit), near Teheran, and as
both these towns were abandoned at least as early as the thirteenth century,
a corresponding age has been claimed for the pot-sherds found among the
ruins.[131] We now know that a true celadon porcelain was made in Siam,
and this ware, there is little doubt, was shipped from the port of Martabani.
[132] But in spite of this fact, and of the evidence of the name by which the
ware was known, by far the larger part of the porcelain used by the Arabs
was probably a true Lung-chuan ware exported from the ports of the
Chinese coast, Kinsai, Zaitun, and Canton.
The Memlook Sultans of Egypt encouraged commerce with the East.
Makrisi tells us that Kelaun received an embassy from Ceylon. During the
fourteenth century and later, the goods transhipped at Aden were carried to
the ports on the west coast of the Red Sea and then brought overland to
Assuan or to Koos, a town lower down the Nile, near to Koptos. Many of
the large dishes now to be seen in the museums of France and Germany
may have reached the West by this route, for among the presents that the
‘Soldan’ of Egypt sent to Lorenzo de’ Medici in 1487, on the occasion of an
embassy (in addition to some sheep with long ears and tails as big as their
bodies), we find mention of ‘vasi grandi porcellana mai più veduti simili ne
meglio lavorati’ (Marryat, p. 240, quoting a letter from Bibbiena to Clarice

de’ Medici). Before this, in 1447, Charles vii. of France is said to have
received from the same source ‘trois escuelles de pourcelaine de Sinant,’
besides ‘platz, tongues verdes’ (whatever they may be), and other vessels of
the same material. Again, in 1487 porcelain is mentioned in the maritime
laws of Barcelona among the exports from Egypt. In only one of these
notices, however, is the Chinese origin of the porcelain expressly stated, so
that in the other cases there remains a shadow of a doubt as to what kind of
ware is in question. For we must remember that the word porcelain was at
that time sometimes applied to Saracenic fayence. Indeed in the old French
inventories quoted by the Marquis de Laborde, various kinds of shell-ware,
such as frames inlaid with mother-of-pearl, are referred to as porcelain.
It is doubtful whether we can point to a single specimen of porcelain in
our European collections whose history can be traced back as far as the year
1500, nor can any exception be made to this statement in favour of anything
to be found in the Treasury of St. Mark at Venice. With the exception of one
small doubtful piece, I have been unable to discover any specimen of
porcelain in that collection. As for the tradition concerning the little plate at
Dresden inlaid with garnets cut into facettes—that it was brought back from
the East by a crusader—I am afraid that this must go the way of so many
similar stories. I have had an opportunity of examining this often-quoted
example of early Chinese porcelain, as well as a cup similarly inlaid in the
same collection, and I quite agree with Dr. Zimmermann, the Curator of the
Museum, that the setting can hardly be earlier than the sixteenth century,
and that there is nothing in the ware itself, a plain white Ting porcelain, to
point to a great age.
There remains, then, the bowl of pale sea-green celadon, mounted in
silver gilt, preserved at New College, Oxford. This is known as the cup of
Archbishop Warham (1504-32): it is said to have been presented to the
college by that prelate, and the early date is confirmed by the style of the
mounting. It is at least a curious coincidence that this celadon cup, the
doyen, it would seem, of all the Chinese porcelain in Europe, should prove
to be a specimen of the ware first exported from China.[133]
M. de Laborde, in his glossary, quotes from the inventory of the goods of
Margaret of Austria, the Regent of the Low Countries during the minority
of her nephew, the future Emperor Charles v., the following items among
others: Un beau grand pot de pourcelaine bleue à deux agneaux d’argent.
Deux autres esguières d’une sorte de porcelayne bleue. Ung beau gobelet de

porcelayne blanche, à couvercle, painct à l’entour de personnaiges
d’hommes et femmes.’
An additional interest is given to this inventory of the possessions of the
Regent Margaret when we remember that it was of her brother that the
following story is told:—In the spring of 1506 Philip started from the
Netherlands for Spain, along with his wife Joanna, to claim for the latter the
crown of Castile, vacant by the death of the great Queen Isabella. Driven by
a storm into Weymouth Harbour, the pair were entertained by Sir Thomas
Trenchard, the High Sheriff of the county, at his house not far from
Dorchester. On leaving, Philip gave to his host some bowls of Oriental
porcelain. Two of these bowls of blue and white ware remain in the
possession of the representatives of the Trenchard family. One of them is set
in a silver gilt mounting of about 1550, with a London hall-mark on the
inside. On the outside of the bowl is a bold floral decoration, and inside
some quaint archaic fish, similar to those on the Cheng-te bowl in the
Salting collection. They have been lately described by Mr. Winthrop in
Gulland’s Oriental China, vol. ii.
We have now come to a time when a new channel was opened by which
the porcelain and other produce of the Far East could reach Europe. In the
year 1517 Fernando Perez D’Andrada sailed from Malacca to the roads of
Canton, and the Portuguese not long after established some kind of
understanding with the Chinese, which permitted them to trade at that port
and at Ningpo. This arrangement, however, lasted but for a short time.
Some aggressive proceedings on the part of a new admiral sent out from
Portugal aroused the latent hostility of the Ming Government, and the
newcomers were before long confined to that ambiguous position at Macao
that they occupy to the present day. There does not seem to be any direct
evidence that porcelain formed part of the merchandise that they at that
time—I mean during the sixteenth century—sent back to Europe; but after
the end of the century, when Portugal and her colonies were for a time
absorbed in the vast empire ruled by Philip ii. of Spain, a considerable
amount of the Oriental ware reached the Peninsula by way of ‘the Indies.’
Specimens of this old porcelain, chiefly of the plain white that the Spanish
have always preferred, may still be found, it is said, in some of the royal
palaces.
The Portuguese in some measure took the place of the Arabs, whose
shipping they had driven out from the Indian seas, and it was now in their

ships that the Chinese porcelain was carried to the markets of India and
Persia. But by the end of the sixteenth century the Portuguese, now sailing
under the Spanish flag, began to feel the rivalry of a new power that was
destined before long to monopolise nearly the whole trade of the Far East.
In 1604, three ships bearing an ambassador and his suite arrived at Canton.
The Chinese were alarmed at the singular aspect of these new people, ‘with
blue eyes, red hair, and feet one cubit and two-tenths long.’ The Dutch,
however—for such these newcomers were—effected little by this embassy,
and it is indeed difficult to understand, when we read of the troubled
relations of foreign nations with the fast sinking Ming rulers in those
stormy days, in what manner and by what route the porcelain that was now
reaching the markets of India, Persia, and somewhat later, of Europe, in
such large quantities, found its way out from China. After the establishment
of the new Manchu dynasty in 1644, the three southern provinces, including
the ports of the Canton river and of the Fukien coast, long remained in the
hands of the native Chinese admiral or pirate, so well known to Europeans
as Coxinga, and it was not till some years after the accession of Kang-he
that the imperial authority was established in these parts, and the trade road
re-opened with the newly rebuilt kilns of King-te-chen.[134]
The English at that time had not much direct intercourse with China.
What little reached us from that country seems to have been obtained rather
by piracy than by trade. In the days of Elizabeth, when a Spanish
merchantman or carrack was captured, next to the bullion there was nothing
that was more eagerly sought for than porcelain, both that which might
form part of the cargo and any pieces in use at the officers’ table. As late as
the year 1637, it was through the medium of the Portuguese that the bulk of
the English trade with China was carried on. Meantime, however, we had
established ourselves in the Persian Gulf, and in the year 1623 we assisted
Shah Abbas in driving the Portuguese out of Hormus. We had at that time
comparatively close relations with Persia, and there was more than one
English adventurer in the service of the great Shah. There is some reason to
believe that it was by way of our factories or depôts on the Persian Gulf
(especially the new establishment at Gombroon,[135] on the mainland,
opposite the island of Hormus or Ormuz), as well as by those on the coast
of India, that the porcelain of China and Japan first reached England in any
quantity. In these commercial relations we may no doubt find one of the

causes of the confusion that so long existed with us between the wares of
Persia, India, and China.
But Chinese porcelain, as well as Persian fayence, must have reached
England by another route—by way of Venice—and this at a somewhat
earlier date. To this connection of ‘china-ware’ with Venice there is frequent
reference in our Elizabethan literature. Florio in his Italian Dictionary
(1598) interprets the word ‘china’ as ‘a Venus basin,’ and ‘china metal’ is
explained by Minsheu in his Spanish Dialogues (1599) as ‘the fine dishes
of earth painted such as are brought from Venice.’ Here the reference
probably is to Italian or Persian fayence—in fact the tendency seems rather
to have been to use the word ‘china’ for these latter wares and to reserve the
term ‘purslane’ or ‘porcelaine’ for the true porcelain of the Far East.
Indeed there is every likelihood that we may find the origin of our term
‘china,’ used vaguely for the better kinds of glazed ceramic wares,[136] in
the Persian word chini, which has long been employed for Chinese
porcelain and for the finer kinds of fayence, both in Persia and in India. The
point to bear in mind is that with our ancestors this word had no direct
connection with the Chinese empire, but rather with Venice and with Persia.
On the other hand, the special ware known as ‘purslane,’ as we have said,
was by them connected especially with that vague country known as ‘the
East Indies.’
At the New Year, 1587-88, Elizabeth received from Burleigh a porringer
‘of white porselyn’ garnished with gold, and from Mr. Robert Cecil ‘a cup
of grene pursselyne.’ It was not until the beginning of the next century,
apparently, that porcelain, decorated with blue under the glaze, was
imported in any quantity. To this time we must assign the four pieces of this
‘blue and white’ ware (one bearing the mark of Wan-li) (Pl. xxviii.) long
preserved at Burleigh House, the old home of the senior branch of the Cecil
family (see page 85).
By the middle of the seventeenth century Oriental porcelain had already
become an important article of commerce. At that time by far the larger
quantity was imported by the Dutch, and was distributed by them over
France and Germany. There is, however, some reason to believe that the
Portuguese continued to import certain classes of ware, but it is difficult to

PLATE XXVIII. CHINESE

find any direct evidence of this commerce.[137] As for the English trade,
porcelain is mentioned among the goods imported by the East India
Company as early as 1631.
For the most part this porcelain exported from Canton or from Nagasaki
was not carried directly to Europe, but found its way first to various
intermediate entrepôts of trade: in the case of the Dutch, to Batavia; with
us, to certain Indian ports, or perhaps to Gombroon. This was one cause of
the strange names by which the products of China and Japan were known,
and of the confusion between the wares of the two countries, which has
only been cleared up of late years. We hear of Batavian porcelain, and of
East Indian or porcelaine des Indes.[138] No doubt this ambiguity of origin
was encouraged by the rival traders, who were not eager to make too public
the source of their goods.
As to the composition of the ‘purslayne’ brought from the Indies, the
wildest stories were current. Whether it was even of the same nature as
other kinds of pottery was disputed. Even so well-informed a man as Sir
Thomas Browne had his doubts. ‘We are not thoroughly resolved,’ he says,
‘concerning porcellane or china dishes, that according to common belief
they are made of earth.’ The quaint story of the clay being preserved for
long ages before it was fit for use, we find for the first time apparently in
some of the late versions of Marco Polo’s travels. From Marryat, who
collected a wealth of quotations[139] referring to porcelain from writers of
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, we take as an example the
following (it is from a book written by Guido Pancirolli, a learned

jurisconsult and antiquary of Padua, who died in 1599):—‘In former ages,
porcelains were never seen. Now they are a certain mass composed of
gypsum, bruised eggs, the shell of the marine locust [perhaps the Langusta
or Mediterranean lobster], and other substances; and this, being well
tempered and thickened, is hidden underground in a secret place, which the
father points out to his children, etc.’ He then goes on to speak of the
transparency of this ware, and of its property of breaking when any
poisonous substance was placed in it.
We must remember that by this time attempts had already been made in
Italy, both in Tuscany and probably still earlier in Venice, to imitate the
porcelain of China. These experiments were soon abandoned, but the more
practical Dutch, not long after this time, succeeded in making with their
enamelled earthenware an imitation of the finer Chinese blue and white,
closer to the original, as far as external aspect is concerned, than anything
that has been produced in Europe since that time in ware of any description.
The name of Albregt de Keizer (circa 1661) it would seem is to be
associated with these excellent copies. There are some brilliant specimens
of this seventeenth century delft at South Kensington, both in the Keramic
Gallery and in the Salting collection.
Early in the reign of Charles ii., the fashion of drinking tea and chocolate
became fashionable, if not general, in England. Coffee had been introduced
somewhat earlier—it came from Turkey by way of Venice. Along with these
new infusions came the demand for the little cups from which they were to
be drunk, and for the pots in which to brew them. The form and fashion of
these came to us not from China but from Venice, from Constantinople, and
perhaps ultimately from Persia. One consequence of this was that the
confusion between the wares of the East and of the Far East became for the
time even greater. In the drinking-song quoted on page 243, we find ‘tea-
cups and coffee’ associated with ‘the Turk and the Sophi,’ while not a word
is said of China.
At the same time larger pieces, garnitures de cheminée, pots pourris, and
fish-bowls began to find a place in the decoration of a nobleman’s house.
Before the end of the century there came in a rage for quaint monsters and
figures of Chinese gods, at first chiefly in white porcelain. Many such
pieces may still be found on the mantels and in the china-closets of our
country houses, but unfortunately we have in few cases any record of the
date of acquisition or of the provenance of ware of this kind.

At Hampton Court there is a quantity of old china now well displayed in
the rooms shown to the public. This is a collection that well repays a close
examination. Let us see first what it does not contain. The famille rose is
unrepresented. I do not think that the rouge d’or enamel is to be found on a
single specimen. The ‘Old Japan’ or Imari is not found, at least not in
characteristic specimens. On the other hand there are many interesting
examples of Chinese enamelled ware which we may class with the five-
colour group (the blue of course under the glaze). They are roughly painted
with figures in Ming costume, but in these pieces the green is scarcely
prominent enough to allow of our placing them among the famille verte.
They belong rather to that class of late Wan-li or early Kang-he enamels
which formed the starting-point of the earliest enamelled wares of Imari and
Kutani. Of the three-colour glazes of the demi grand feu, I would point to
two interesting vases, about twelve inches in height, with a mottled
decoration of green and dark purple, and with yellow handles. There are
quite a number of large fish-bowls of blue and white, but these pieces are
not remarkable either for colour or design. Of more interest are two
cylindrical vases decorated, sous couverte, with blue and pale copper red,
and a curious vase of Persian shape covered with flowers in white slip over
a café au lait ground. Again, the plain white figures of Quanyin, with the
‘Maintenon’ coif, and in some cases with the boy patron of learning at the
side, are here as abundant relatively as at Dresden, and there is finally a
well-executed figure of a Buddhist ascetic in white biscuit. Unless it be by
the blue and white, Japan is represented solely by the ‘Kakiyemon’
enamelled ware, with the blue over the glaze.
But we must not pass over the little glazed cabinet filled with quaint
pieces of Chinese porcelain. The contents of this cabinet have, it is said,
remained untouched since the day, more than two hundred years ago, when
they were arranged by Queen Mary. Among many curious pieces on its
shelves may be seen two buffaloes of a pale celadon ware, four vases of
‘hookah-base’ form, with strange-shaped spouts, and some censers in the
form of kilins.
The general impression, we may finally say, given by a somewhat close
inspection of the porcelain at Hampton Court, confirms the little we know
of the date of its origin. It represents a period anterior to the great
renaissance at King-te-chen at the end of the seventeenth century, but only
just anterior to that time, and it is the absence of the finer and more brilliant

wares made subsequently to this renaissance, examples of which we are
accustomed to see in our modern collections, that gives a certain air of
poverty to this porcelain collected by our ancestors.
In some of the palaces and castles of Germany may still be seen
collections of china made in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
crowded together in the porcelain cabinet. Of these the best known,
perhaps, is that at the ‘Favorite,’ near Baden, but there are others in the
castle of the Waldstein family at Dux in Bohemia, and in Hungary in the
castle of Prince Esterhazy. Many of these collections have remained
unaltered since the time when they were first brought together, and it is in
this fact that their principal interest lies.
These china-cabinets are, of course, all eclipsed by the vast collection
brought together, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, by Augustus
the Strong, Elector of Saxony and (at intervals) King of Poland. But this
collection has undergone many vicissitudes since the time when it was first
established in the handsome palace in the Neustadt at Dresden. It escaped,
indeed, with little damage from the Prussian cannons during the Seven
Years’ War; at the end of the century, however, it was removed to a gloomy
basement, but so carelessly was this done that we hear of whole chests
packed with broken fragments. In this ill-arranged and dark room the
collection remained for nearly a century, until at last it has found a home in
the well-lit galleries of the Johanneum. Here it is now seen to full
advantage, thanks to an arrangement which combines historical sequence
with a regard to general effect.
Augustus the Strong died in 1733, and it is doubtful whether his
successor, August ii. (August iii. of Poland), who was above all a collector
of pictures, added to the collection.[140] There were, it would seem, some
examples of porcelain in the electoral collection at a much earlier date.[141]
In an inventory of 1640 several pieces of porcelain are mentioned, and these
are said to have been presented by the Herzog von Florentz in the year
1590. Among them (they cannot now be identified) we find a vase of
porcelain (ein Pokal von Porcellana), blue and red with gilding, in the form
of a crab; another in the form of a dragon, coloured green and blue; a
lantern of porcelain, green and gold, adorned at the top with a standing
figure; a small ‘pokal,’ gilt and painted with all kinds of colours; and finally
some large eight-sided dishes decorated with blue. We should have
expected to find some examples of the new Medici porcelain along with

these, but in the inventory in question there is no mention of anything of the
kind.
Augustus the Strong obtained most of his porcelain from Dutch dealers
—a certain Le Roy at Amsterdam is specially mentioned. Already in 1709
we find him lending eight statuettes of white Chinese ware to Böttger, then
engaged with his experiments on the Königstein. In the year 1717 he
received from the King of Prussia nearly a hundred important vases and
dishes. In return for these, it is said, the king obtained a regiment (or
company) of tall dragoons, but this part of the bargain is not mentioned in
the official receipt for the porcelain, which has been preserved.
I have more than once referred to individual specimens in this famous
collection, and I shall not attempt to describe it now. Suffice to say that the
general impression given is that it is of a somewhat later date than that at
Hampton Court. Apart from a few early pieces which have been already
mentioned, and from some specimens of the famille rose (and on these the
new rouge d’or is for the most part sparingly and, as it were, tentatively
applied), the coloured enamel ware in the Dresden collection belongs in the
bulk to the famille verte, and upon intrinsic evidence might be attributed to
the later years of Kang-he and to the reign of his successor Yung-ching, say
from 1690 to 1730. On the Japanese side, we notice a number of dishes and
vases in blue and white, rather in the style of the later Ming ware exported
to India and Persia, a few choice specimens of the enamelled ‘Kakiyemon,’
and then the vast series of ‘Old Japan’ or Imari porcelain—plates, vases,
and bowls, many of large size. Much of this last class was made to order,
and this part reflects the bad taste of the day. We find tall vases ‘adorned’
with figures and flowers modelled in full relief in a kind of stucco and
gaudily painted with some oil medium or varnish. Some are converted into
cages for birds or squirrels by an external railing of brass rods.
With the exception of a few fine garnitures in blue and white in ‘ ’t Huis
ten Bosch’ at the Hague, there appear to be no public collections in Holland
dating from the eighteenth century. But in spite of the repeated razzias of
dealers, both native and foreign, many old families still retain collections of
Chinese porcelain (of blue and white especially), some of which may date
from the latter part of the seventeenth century, and many a rough-looking
farmer, in country districts, prides himself on the china-cabinet that he has
inherited from his ancestors.

Francis i. of France and his son Henri ii. were, as is well known, great
collectors of works of art, and their collections at Fontainebleau may be
regarded as the foundation of the national museums of France. The Rev.
Père Dan, who described these collections at a later date, in his Trésors des
Merveilles de Fontainebleau (1640) says—‘La étoient aussi des vases et
vaisselles en porcelaines de la Chine,’ and in an eighteenth century notice
we hear of a ‘vase de porcelaine de première qualité ancienne de la Chine,’
which is said to have come from the collection of Sully, the minister of
Henri iv. In the second half of the seventeenth century, at the great yearly
fairs held in the neighbourhood of Paris, Portuguese travelling merchants
set up their stalls for the sale of les besognes de Chine.[142] In 1678 the
Duchess of Cleveland’s porcelain was sold at the fair of St. Laurent. The
Mercure of the day gives a list of the figures and mounted pieces. Louis
xiv., we are told, was surprised at the knowledge of Oriental porcelain
shown by James ii.
At the end of the seventeenth century it became the fashion among the
grands Seigneurs of the court of Louis xiv. to collect the porcelaine des
Indes, the Dauphin and the Duke of Orleans leading the way, and through
the agency of the short-lived Compagnie de la Chine[143] (1685-1719) the
latter prince was able to obtain from the East vases decorated with his arms,
[144] while of the Dauphin we hear that he arranged his collection of blue
and white in cabinets constructed by the famous ebonist Boule.
Unfortunately the gallery at Versailles where they were placed was burned
down soon afterwards (Du Sartel, La Porcelaine de la Chine, p. 121). The
porcelain of these princely collectors was sold at a later time, and most of it
passed into the hands of the Vicomte de Fonspertuis; it was again dispersed
when the works of art in that famous collection were sold by auction in
1747. The catalogue on this occasion was prepared by Gersaint,[145] the
great dealer of the day, for whose shop on the Pont Notre-Dame Watteau
painted his famous Enseigne. The notes in this catalogue are of some
interest, in that they are, perhaps, the earliest attempt, at least from a
Western point of view, at a critical description of Oriental porcelain. We can
only call attention to the remarks of Gersaint on the new enamel colours,
which in opposition to the blue and white ‘on voit seulement depuis
quelques années’; on the white ware with its ‘ton velouté, doux et mat,’
which he tells us Spanish collectors prefer to all others, and on the figures,
animals, and ornaments which the Dutch ‘souvent mal à propos’ painted

over the beautiful white ware of China. Gersaint ridicules also the fashion
that will have nothing to say to any piece without the brown line upon the
lip or edge, so characteristic of the porcelain imported about this time, and
finally he calls attention to the excellent imitation of the ‘Ancien Japon,’
made some time since at Dresden. A few specimens of this Saxon ware are
the only examples of European pottery in this extensive and varied
collection.
Some twenty years later the collections of another friend and patron of
Watteau, M. de Jullienne, were sold by auction in the Salon Carré of the
Louvre, and a detailed catalogue of the Oriental ware was drawn up by the
dealer Julliot. But for a more detailed account of the French collections and
collectors of the eighteenth century, we must refer the reader to the chapter
on this subject in M. Du Sartel’s already quoted work.
In the lengthy treatise of the Abbé Raynal on the history of the
Commerce des Européens dans les Deux Indes, there is an interesting
section treating of the porcelain of China and Japan, and of the relation of
these Oriental wares to the porcelain of Saxony and France. The work was
first published in 1770, but the remarks on porcelain were probably written
several years earlier. We have already noticed the six classes into which he
divides the wares imported from the East. We can only note here that
Raynal distinguishes the two classes of porcelaine blanche—one of creamy
tint, and the other cold and bluish. This ware, he says, was imitated at Saint-
Cloud, but with ‘frit’ and lead glaze. His sympathies are all for the true
porcelain of Dresden, and for the ware lately made in France by the Count
Lauraguais.
We have attempted in this chapter, perhaps at too great a length for a
work of this kind, to follow the steps by which the knowledge and
appreciation of Oriental porcelain spread gradually through the West. It will
be our next task to show, as briefly as possible, how on the ground thus
prepared there arose on all sides a desire to imitate this beautiful ware.

C H A P T E R XIV

THE FIRST ATTEMPTS AT IMITATION IN EUROPE

W HAT, then, were the wares with which the porcelain of the Far East
came into competition, when during the course of the seventeenth
century it reached Europe in ever increasing quantity? It was not the
ordinary lead-glazed pottery, or the salt-glazed stoneware in common use,
that felt this competition. Crockery of this sort would always be protected
by its cheapness. The rivalry was rather with the more artistic ware found
on the tables of the richer sort of people, much of it made for ornament
only. Now at this time, ware of this latter kind all came under the class of
enamelled fayence—earthenware, that is, whose dull surface was rendered
bright and shining by a coating of stanniferous enamel; on this artificial
surface the decoration, often pre-eminent in artistic merit, was painted. It is
not our business here to show how this great ceramic family of stanniferous
enamelled ware, which had now spread over Europe, had its origin in the
nearer or Saracenic East, just as the porcelain, which in a measure was
destined to replace it, can all be traced back to a Chinese source. Suffice to
say that, starting from the Moorish potteries of Spain, this enamelled
fayence gradually replaced the old lead-glazed slip ware of the Italian
quattrocento, and in the sixteenth century was carried by Italian workmen
to France, where important centres of manufacture were established at
Rouen and at Nevers.
But it was rather the fayence of Delft, a ware of essentially the same
class as the last, and one which, during the seventeenth century, was
pushing its way into the markets of France and of England, that first felt the
competition of the porcelain now imported from the Far East. The fact is
that all these enamelled wares suffered from one great defect. It was not so
much their lack of translucency or the softness of their paste that was at
fault, but rather the fact that they made pretence to be something better than
they really were ‘at heart.’ Compared to porcelain, they are as plated ware
to real silver, and time and wear are apt only too soon to reveal the base
nature of their body. Wherever the enamel is chipped off, the dirt lodges,
and greasy matter finds its way into the porous paste, causing a wide

spreading stain. This is a practical, and, we may also add, a hygienic defect,
that is now sometimes forgotten, the more so as nowadays our common
table ware is free from this fault, and resembles fine porcelain in so far that
the white, compact body is covered by nothing but the transparent glaze. In
fact, as far as European experience is concerned, we may say, broadly, that
the merits of porcelain compared with those of fayence are rather of a
practical than of an artistic nature.[146]
It will be convenient to divide the history of European porcelain into two
periods. The first, with which we are alone concerned in this chapter, deals
with a time of isolated and tentative experiments. We are concerned in Italy
with the experiments of the Venetian alchemists which form an introduction
to the porcelain made by the Tuscan Grand-Duke; in England with the early
researches of Dr. Dwight and others; and finally, in France with the more
successful efforts of the potters of Rouen and Saint-Cloud. The second
period opens with the great discovery of Böttger at the beginning of the
eighteenth century. The porcelain made subsequent to this may be divided
conveniently into three groups: (1) the true porcelain of Germany; (2) the
artificial soft paste of France; and (3) the so-called natural soft paste of
England. These are the most important types; and other wares such as the
‘mixed or hybrid pastes’ of Italy and Spain, and the hard, true porcelains of
England and France, can be most conveniently treated in connection with
the second and third divisions.
Early Venetian Porcelain.—Of all the cities of Europe we might, on theoretical grounds,
expect to find in Venice the place above all others where the question of the composition of porcelain
would at an early date attract attention, and indeed, the evidence brought to light by the Baron
Davillier (Les Origines de la Porcelaine en Europe, 1882) and by the late Sir William Drake (Notes
on Venetian Ceramics, London, 1868, privately printed) fully proves that more than one alchemist or
‘arcanist’ of that city, in one case as early as the fifteenth century, produced specimens worthy to be
called ‘porcellane transparente e vaghissime,’ and this by contemporaries who had some opportunity
of seeing the real porcelain of China.[147]
This ‘transparent and beautiful porcelain’ was made in 1470 by Master
Antonio, the alchemist, at his kiln by San Simeon, and the writer of a notice
that has been preserved sends two specimens of this ware to his friend in
Padua. Again, in 1518 we hear of ‘a new artifice not known before in this
illustrious city, to make all kinds of porcelain like to the transparent wares
of the Levant’; and a year later the ambassador of the Duke Alfonso writes
to his master at Ferrara, sending him specimens of the porcellana ficta
made by a certain Caterino Zen, whom he has persuaded to emigrate to the
latter city.

There cannot be the slightest doubt that in all these instances the writers
are referring to attempts at the manufacture of something resembling, in its
transparency at least, the porcelain of China. There is no question of any
confusion with the majolica of the day, with whose properties these men
were well acquainted, and we may therefore reasonably regard the Venetian
‘archimisti’ as the first in Europe to make a soft-paste porcelain. As in the
case of later experimenters, translucency, rather than hardness or refractory
qualities, was the point aimed at; and from the few hints we get as to the
substances employed, we may infer that these old ‘archimisti’ started with
the idea of combining the properties of glass and of fayence by mixing a
‘frit,’ or glassy element, with various kinds of pure white clay.
It is unfortunately true that we can point to no single existing specimen
of Italian porcelain that can safely be referred to so early a date; but it must
at the same time be remembered that it was only in the year 1857 that the
first piece of Medici porcelain was identified by Signor Foresi, and that as
late as 1859 a flask-shaped vase of this ware was sold at the Hôtel Drouot
as a specimen of Japanese porcelain!
Medici Porcelain.—The first mention of this now well-known ware is
probably to be found in Vasari’s Lives of the Painters. It is in his account of
Bernardo Buontalenti, painter, sculptor, architect, and mechanical genius,
who, in all these capacities,

PLATE XXIX. MEDICI, BLUE AND WHITE

was in great favour with Cosmo, the first Grand-Duke of Tuscany, and still
more with his son Francesco. ‘Bernardo,’ says Vasari, who was a
contemporary, ‘applies himself to everything, as may be seen by the vases
of porcelain which he has made in so short a time—vases which have all
the perfection of the most ancient and the most perfect.’ He could make
objects of all kinds in porcelain. ‘Of all these things our prince [Francesco
the Grand-Duke] possesses the methods of manufacture.’
Francesco Maria, the second Grand-Duke of Tuscany, was neither a
good prince nor a faithful husband. He was, however, by nature an
enthusiastic and patient experimenter, and a chemist after the manner of the
day. Soon after his accession, in 1576, the Venetian envoy writes of him—I
abbreviate here and there: ‘He has found the way to make the porcelain of
India; he has equalled them in transparence, in lightness, and in delicacy.
With the help of a Levantine he worked for more than ten years, spoiling

thousands of pieces, before producing perfect work. He passes his whole
day in his casino [in the Boboli Gardens] surrounded by alembics and
filters, making, among other things, false jewels, and fireworks.’
We learn also, from a contemporary manuscript, that the paste of this
porcelain was formed by mixing certain white earths from Siena and from
Vicenza with a frit, itself made from pounded rock crystal fused with soda
and glassmakers’ sand. The Vicenza clay, at all events, was probably of a
kaolinic nature. After shaping on the wheel and drying, the decoration was
painted on the raw paste, and the vessel subjected to a preliminary firing;
the plumbiferous glaze was then applied to the biscuit. This Medici ware is
decorated for the most part with cobalt blue alone, but occasionally a little
purple, and still more rarely other colours are added. The design is made up
of sprigs of conventionalised flowers and leaves connected by fine stalks,
suggesting, on the whole, a Persian rather than a Chinese influence. In a
few cases we find the renaissance arabesques (or, more properly,
grotesques) of the time combined with masks in relief. The usual mark is a
hasty outline of the dome of the Cathedral of Florence, and below it the
letter F; on a few pieces, those especially which are decorated with the
grotesques, we find the six roundels, or ‘palle,’ of the Medici, surmounted
by the ducal coronet. A few pieces are dated. The earliest date that has been
discovered—1581—is on a bottle of square section, rudely painted, under a
crackle glaze, with the arms of Spain.
As might be expected in the case of an experimental ware of amateurish
origin, the extant pieces differ much in technical merit. Some are heavily
moulded, with a rough decoration of dark blue (I refer to some pieces now
in the Louvre); while on others, as on the fine but damaged bowl at South
Kensington, a delicate design is carefully painted (Pl. xxx.). The ground,
however, of this Medici porcelain is seldom of a pure white, and the colours
have a tendency to run. Now that the specimens from the Davillier and
Rothschild collections have found their way into the Louvre, this ware is
best represented in that gallery. There are, however, several pieces at
Sèvres, and some good examples at South Kensington. The later history of
this ware is obscure. The kilns appear to have been removed to Pisa, and
their existence cannot be traced later than 1620.
Rouen Porcelain.—For a period of two generations and more after this
date it would seem that little was attempted. The vague assertions found in
patents taken out during this time in England and in France are of slight

value for us, for the claim is only made to an imitation of the Eastern ware,
and such an expression might apply to many kinds of enamelled fayence.

PLATE XXX. MEDICI, BLUE AND WHITE

In France,[148] Claude Reverend, in 1664, is authorised to ‘contrefaire la
porcelaine à la façon des Indes.’ A more serious interest attaches to the
letters-patent granted in 1673 to Louis Poterat of Rouen. This Poterat was a
man of some position; he belonged to a family that had long been connected
with the manufacture of enamelled fayence at St. Sever, near Rouen. In the
diploma of 1673 facilities are granted him by the king for making vessels of

porcelain similar to those of China by means of the secret process that he
had discovered for manufacturing ‘la véritable porcelaine de la Chine.’
There exist certain little pieces of soft-paste porcelain, sparely decorated
with arabesques and lambrequins in blue sous couverte, in the style of
Louis xiv., and marked with the letters A.P. surmounted by a small star.[149]
These are now generally classed as Rouen ware of the time of Poterat; in
that case, we must see in them the earliest specimens of the French family
of porcelaines tendres. We have seen specimens at Sèvres and at Dresden,
in both cases little cylindrical boxes divided into compartments. A similarly
decorated cup, of very translucent ware, in the Fitzhenry collection, is also
attributed to Rouen.
There were probably at this time and later many others, arcanistes or
practical potters, working at the problem in France. M. Vogt quotes, from
the Comptes des Bâtiments du Roi for 1682, two singular payments for the
transport of ‘terre de porcelaine’ from Le Havre to Rouen and thence to
Paris. This porcelain earth had, it is stated, been previously shipped to
Civita Vecchia. It has been suggested that this might refer to a cargo of
kaolin sent from the East (La Porcelaine, p. 34).
In 1695 the king granted to the Chicoineau family the privilege of
making porcelain, by means of a secret process, reserving only the right
previously granted to Poterat of Rouen.
With the establishment, however, of the Saint-Cloud kilns we pass out of
the stage of tentative experiment, and the porcelain of Saint-Cloud forms
the proper introduction to the soft-paste wares of France.
Early Experiments in England.—The potters art was at a very low ebb
in England in the seventeenth century. The Dutch with their Delft ware had
taken up a position comparable to that held by our Staffordshire potters a
century and a half later. They supplied us for many years with the ordinary
crockery in use among the middle classes (indeed, in parts of Ireland such
ware is still known as ‘delf’). From the scattered local potteries were
produced only the roughest kinds of earthenware. But in this rude ware we
see at times a certain barbaric, almost Oriental feeling for colour and
decoration, giving more promise of artistic possibilities than we can find in
the tame imitative work of the eighteenth century porcelain maker.
Quite early in the seventeenth century, however, certainly by the time of
Charles i., pottery works were established by the banks of the Thames at

Lambeth and elsewhere, where successful imitations of Delft were made,
probably with the assistance of Dutch workmen. Not far off, at Fulham, Dr.
John Dwight experimented upon various clays and glazes, in the reign of
Charles ii. His is the earliest name that occurs in the history of English
ceramics. In the letters-patent granted to him in 1671, he claims that ‘at his
own proper costs and charges he hath invented and set up at Fulham ...
several new manufactories.’ Not only was he prepared to deal with ‘the
misterie of the stoneware vulgarly called Cologne ware,’ but he also lays
claim to ‘the mysterie of transparent earthenware, commonly knowne by
the name of porcelaine or china, and Persian ware.’ This claim is made even
more definitely by his friend Dr. Plot, in the History of Oxfordshire, which
he published in 1677. Dr. Dwight, he tells us, ‘hath found ways to make an
earth white and transparent as porcelane, and not distinguishable from it by
the eye or by experiments which have been purposely made to try wherein
they disagree.’
We may compare this claim with the similar statements made about the
same time in the petitions of Poterat and others. In neither case is there any
sign of an acquaintance with the Chinese materials. In France the aim was
to make something that should combine the properties of earthenware and
glass; while in the case of Dr. Dwight’s ware, hardness and infusibility were
the points sought for.
The portrait busts and statuettes in the British Museum, and a famous
piece at South Kensington, are all that remain of Dr. Dwight’s wares. These
were until lately in the hands of his descendants, and are, therefore,
thoroughly authenticated.[150] In the former collection are two figures, a
sportsman and a girl with two lambs, which in spirit and sharpness of
execution compare favourably with our later imitations of Meissen
porcelain in soft paste. A thin, apparently non-plumbiferous glaze covers a
white body, which is undoubtedly of great hardness and possibly just
translucent (‘approaching in some cases to translucency,’ says the writer of
the ‘Jermyn Street’ Catalogue). Unfortunately there has survived nothing to
illustrate his imitations of Chinese and Persian ware. Dr. Dwight was a man
of some social position, and a Master of Arts of Christ Church, Oxford. The
very considerable merit of his stoneware figures (and we may add, the
pathetic interest attaching to the little figure of a dead child, at South
Kensington, inscribed ‘Lydia Dwight, dyed March 3rd, 1673’) have
established his position as the father of English ceramics, and on this

ground he has found a place along with Duesbury and Wedgwood in the
Dictionary of National Biography. For us his stoneware has a special
interest. It is perhaps the only ceramic ware in existence that has so many of
the characteristics of true porcelain—its hardness, its resistance to high
temperatures, and to some extent also its translucency and whiteness of
paste—but which in origin and chemical composition differs so entirely
from the normal type.
Dr. Place of York was a contemporary of Dwight; he devoted much time
to experiments on various kinds of clay. Although he has some claim to
rank as an artistic potter, I do not think that there is any proof that he ever
made porcelain of either hard or soft paste.
It is certainly remarkable that during the following fifty years and more
we hear nothing in England of any attempt to manufacture porcelain, nor is
there any patent or contemporary notice bearing on the subject during the
interval between Dr. Dwight’s specification of 1684 and the date of Frye’s
first patent. A claim to make porcelain by working up the ground fragments
of Oriental ware with some gummy materials is perhaps the only exception.
But in England, as elsewhere, the ‘ware of the Indies’ was coming more
and more into favour, and its partial victory over foreign and native
stoneware and pottery is, as we said above, closely connected with the
increasing popularity of tea and coffee. Sack and claret were still served in
bottles of Delft ware, and beer in stoneware jugs and tankards. A certain
suspicion of effeminacy and degeneracy came to be associated both with tea
and coffee, and with the ware in which they were served.[151] Even now,
any ridicule to which the china-collector is exposed is generally associated
with a teapot.
We have in this chapter traced the early attempts made in Italy, as well as
those in France and England, to imitate the porcelain of the Far East. We
must now turn aside to Saxony, where, at the dawn of the eighteenth
century, the problem was solved by the genius of a poor chemist’s assistant.
We will then run rapidly through the many centres where hard-paste
porcelain was made in Germany, before returning to the soft-paste wares of
England and France.

C H A P T E R XV

THE HARD-PASTE PORCELAIN OF GERMANY

Böttger and the Porcelain of Meissen

W E have already more than once come across the famous Elector of
Saxony, who found time, between his Polish wars and his
innumerable amours, to bring together the nucleus, at least, of more
than one of the great collections that have since his time attracted visitors to
Dresden. In the historical collections of the Johanneum and in the Grüne
Gewölbe, we find his name associated with many things of great beauty—
arms and armour, silver plate and jewellery; but still, even after making
every allowance for the strange taste of the time, the general impression of
the man which we get from the objects brought together by him is not
exactly that of a refined amateur. In fact, the German phase of the school
that had its origin in the Rome of Bernini and in the Versailles of Louis xiv.
found in the court of Augustus the Strong its true home. Nowhere else can
we find more characteristic examples of that mixture of pomposity and
childishness, that absence of all feeling for purity of line, which
distinguishes the German ‘rococo,’ than in these collections and in the
buildings that hold them.
Now, it was under the direct patronage of this prince that the
manufacture of porcelain was first established in Europe, and what we may
call the taint of its original home has hung about the ware ever since. Of the
porcelain of Europe as a whole—and this is especially true of the earlier
and more interesting period—we may say that it belongs to the rococo
school, tempered now and again by a more or less ill-understood imitation
of Chinese and Japanese shapes and designs.
Augustus collected works of art of nearly every kind, with the important
exception, indeed, of pictures and sculpture—these branches were at this
time comparatively neglected. But his heart was set, above all, upon
gathering to his new palace in the Neustadt, every fine specimen of the
Oriental porcelain that reached Europe. What more natural than that he
should be seized with the ambition of himself producing in his own capital

something that would rival the wares of China and Japan? No one had
better opportunities—if not himself in direct communication with the East,
his agents were in a position to glean and to bring to him whatever meagre
information about the manufacture of porcelain might reach Europe. His
court was a Catholic centre, and he must have taken interest in the accounts
of the industries of China sent home by the Jesuit missionaries. The first of
the famous letters of the Père D’Entrecolles on the porcelain of King-te-
chen is indeed of just too late a date for us to think of it in this connection.
By that time (1712) Böttger was already making true porcelain. But what
would seem more probable than that other private letters, with valuable
information about the manufacture in which the Elector took so great an
interest, may have reached him a few years earlier? The Père D’Entrecolles,
we know, had already for several years previous to 1709 (the approximate
date of Böttger’s discovery) been living at Juchou, in the neighbourhood of
King-te-chen.
When we consider the rapidity with which Böttger’s experiments were
brought to a successful issue, and compare this with the long and fruitless
research in other countries, it is impossible to resist a suspicion of some
such infiltration from Chinese sources, and this suspicion is enhanced by
the somewhat suspicious story of Böttger’s career. But, on the other hand,
no confirmation has, so far, been found for any such theory. On the
contrary, I understand that researches made of late in the State archives of
Saxony have rather tended to show that some injustice has been done to
Böttger in the common tradition; that we must look upon him as a man of
considerable scientific attainments for his age and as a born experimenter,
and it must also be remembered that at that time no great distinction was
made between the chemist and the alchemist.
Johann Friedrich Böttger was born in the year 1685 at Schleiz, in the
Voigtland, where his father had a charge connected with a local mint. He
was early apprenticed to an apothecary at Berlin, and here he was initiated
into the secrets of alchemy by no less a master—so at least the story goes—
than the Greek monk Lascaris, a man who is mentioned with admiration by
Leibnitz, and who is claimed as one of the ‘five adepts.’ In 1701 Böttger
fled from Berlin—it is not quite clear for what reason—and placed himself
under the protection of the Elector of Saxony. At Dresden and, later on, the
rock fortress of the Königstein, he continued his search for the
philosopher’s stone, and about this time, probably in conjunction with the

mathematician and physicist Walther von Tschirnhaus, began making
experiments upon clay—in search, at first at least, of a refractory material
for his crucibles. Tschirnhaus had already been occupied with
improvements in the manufacture of glass in Saxony, and as early as the
year 1699 had made attempts to imitate Chinese porcelain.[152]
In spite of an unsuccessful attempt at flight we find Böttger, in the years
1705 to 1707, established in a laboratory in the old castle of Meissen. Here,
after another effort to escape, for which he narrowly missed being hanged—
at any rate so we are told—Böttger, when experimenting on some red
fireclay from the neighbourhood of Okrilla, fell upon the famous red ware
that resembles so closely the Chinese ‘boccaro.’ This was in 1707. The next
year Tschirnhaus died, and by 1709, if we are to trust the statement of
Steinbrück, the brother-in-law of Böttger and his immediate successor, the
latter had succeeded in making a true white porcelain.
Shortly before this time he had been working, in company with
Tschirnhaus, in a laboratory constructed for them on the Jungfern-Bastei at
Dresden, and it must have been about the time of the death of the latter that
the critical experiments were made that led to the production of a white
translucent paste. If this be so, it would seem that it was, after all, at
Dresden, and not at Meissen, that the first true porcelain was made. It was
not till the year 1710 that Böttger was again removed to the old castle of
Meissen, where the requisite secrecy could be more effectually preserved.
In any case, in the year 1709 Böttger was able to show some specimens
of a true porcelain—somewhat yellowish in tint, indeed—to the royal
commissioner, and at the Leipsic Fair in 1710 not only was the red ware
offered for sale for the first time, but a few specimens of the white porcelain
were on view.
Soon after this we find Böttger established in the Albrechtsburg at
Meissen as administrator of the newly established porcelain works. Even
now he was little better than a prisoner, and in 1712 he requested the
elector-king to allow him to resign. He was consoled, however, by a
substantial present, and, so says one account, he was at the same time
ennobled—at any rate he was offered the title of Bergrath. But Böttger’s
extravagant way of life led to his being constantly in need of money, and in
the year 1716 he entertained proposals to sell his great secret to a syndicate
of Berlin merchants. In 1719, on the discovery of this treachery, he was

again imprisoned. In the same year Böttger died at the age of thirty-four. To
the end, it would appear, he held out hopes to his master that he was on the
way to success in his gold-making experiments, and his brother-in-law, in a
solemn memorial, asserted that he was actually in the possession of the
lapis philosophorum. How far Böttger, in making these claims, was playing
a double game in order to obtain money from Augustus, it is impossible to
say, but we must remember that at the same time Tschirnhaus, a man of
culture and high intellectual attainments, was engaged in a search for the
‘universal medicine.’
The red stoneware which was turned out already in 1708—it is now
generally known as Böttger ware—resembles closely the boccaro imported
at that time from China. Besides the red varieties, of two shades, there is a
third kind, in which the surface, as it comes from the kiln, has been left
untouched, and such pieces the Germans know as Eisen-porzellan. It is
wonderful what a number of forms and applications Böttger was able to
give to this stoneware during the short period during which it was produced.
Of the red ware some of the carefully modelled pieces were polished on the
lapidary’s wheel. A child’s head at South Kensington is a good specimen of
this polished stoneware. In the Franks collection, now at Bethnal Green, is a
remarkable series of the different varieties of Böttger ware. A tankard of
polished marbled paste is marked with the year 1720, showing that the
stoneware continued to be manufactured for some time alongside of the true
white porcelain. À propos of a beautiful little head of Apollo, we are
reminded in the catalogue that in 1711 there were sixty of these Apollo-
köpfe in stock. They were priced, unpolished, at nine groschen, or polished
at sixteen. The difference, seven groschen, does not seem a high charge for
the labour and skill involved in this polishing. In other cases the body is
covered with a dark brown glaze, in which a design is traced in incised
lines, brought out by gold. This glazed stoneware was afterwards imitated at
Berlin and elsewhere in Germany. There are some curious pieces at
Dresden, which show that Böttger also attempted, not very successfully, to
apply enamelled colours over his dark glazes.
Not till the Easter Fair of 1713 was the white porcelain offered for sale at
Leipsic, and even then the specimens on sale were far from faultless. Only
in the year 1716—in the interval a new description of white paste had been
discovered—was the ware exhibited technically perfect.

Thus in the space of some eight years, Böttger had not only succeeded in
making an excellent imitation of the Chinese boccaro ware, of which the
special merit was to withstand rapid changes of temperature, but he had
once for all solved the great problem: he had produced a hard white
porcelain, which has remained since that day the type for the whole of
Europe.[153]
Where, we may ask, did Böttger acquire the technical knowledge and the
practical experience, so essential in work of this kind? All the other men
who have made a name for themselves as breakers of new ground in the art
of the potter—Palissy, Poterat, Wedgwood, and to these we may add the
great Chinese superintendents at King-te-chen and the Japanese artists
Ninsei and Zengoro—were either working potters themselves or directors
of large factories. What opportunities had this youth—he was only sixteen
when he came to Dresden, and already, it would seem, ‘well known to the
police’—of acquiring the practical details of the kilns, the mixing vats, and
the wheel?[154]
So again with regard to the materials he employed. Not much light has
so far been thrown on this point. We have a somewhat childish story about a
certain hair-powder—the Schnorrische Erde—which turned up at the
psychological moment and solved the question once for all. But porcelain is
not to be made from kaolin alone. That is only the skeleton, as the Chinese
say. We must find also the right kind of flesh to make the bones hang
together. No mention, however, is made in the current narrative of any
experiments on felspathic rocks. We know at least that this famous ‘hair-
powder’ was a very pure white kaolin, found at Aue, near Schneeberg, in
the Erzgebirge, and that china-clay from this source was the principal
ingredient in the earliest porcelain produced. So in later accounts we find
mention merely of different qualities of kaolin from Aue, from Seilitz, and
other sources.[155] A few years ago the Meissen paste, it is stated, was
composed of kaolin from three different sources 72 per cent., of ‘felspar’ 26
per cent., and of old clay worked up again 2 per cent. In this and in most
other cases where felspar is mentioned as a constituent of a porcelain paste,
we must probably understand some kind of petuntse or china-stone
containing quartz and perhaps other minerals in addition to the felspar. The
following figures show the composition of the paste at the beginning of the
last century: silica 59 per cent., alumina 36 per cent., and potash 3 per cent.
The glaze was at that time composed of calcined quartz 37 per cent., Seilitz

kaolin 37 per cent., limestone 17·5 per cent., and porcelain pot-sherds 8·5
per cent. From this it will be seen that the Meissen porcelain is of a
somewhat ‘severe’ type. To judge from its composition it must require a
high temperature in firing; on the other hand, the paste should possess
considerable plastic qualities. The absence of lime from the paste and its
presence in considerable quantity in the glaze is a point of interest. In this,
the Saxon ware resembles the porcelain that is made in the Owari district of
Japan. At Sèvres, on the other hand, we shall see that the glaze of the hard
porcelain contains no lime, while that substance is an essential constituent
in the paste.
The Meissen porcelain, and indeed the German porcelains generally,
form a typically hard and refractory group. But they have in a full measure
les défauts de leurs qualités. Among them we may look in vain for that
blending of the glaze and body that gives to the best Chinese porcelain a
surface like that of polished marble; still less do we find in the enamel
decoration the brilliancy and transparence of Oriental wares. In place of this
we see a chalky surface of a cold, neutral tone, over which is painted, in
dull opaque tints, elaborately executed pictures that look often as if they had
been stuck on as an afterthought. Apart from the influence of the taste of the
time, and the general absence of the colour sense among the German race,
this dulness and opacity is the result of the high temperature required in the
muffle-stove to enable the coloured enamels to adhere to the refractory
glaze beneath them. As a consequence of this the choice of colours is
limited, and even the enamels that are available never become thoroughly
incorporated with the glaze.
To return to the porcelain made by Böttger in the few remaining years of
his life, it is surprising in what a number of directions we find him making
experiments; for indeed all the many varieties of porcelain made during his
lifetime may be classed together as experimental. It is only in the museum
at Dresden that we can study this interesting period. The moulds that had
been used for the red stoneware served at first for the new porcelain. The
ornaments in relief were modelled by hand and laid on the surface. Böttger
attempted at one time to replace the enamel colours, so difficult to use with
effect, by employing a kind of lacquer or mastic as a vehicle. His greatest
triumph in this department was the so-called mother-of-pearl glaze, a thin
wash of rosy purple with a slight lustre,[156] and this he combined with a
free use of metallic gold and silver. The plain white of the Chinese was

copied closely, but the early attempts at the decoration with blue sous
couverte were strikingly unsuccessful. The larger pieces made at this, and
even later times, have generally suffered from overfiring or from imperfect
support in the kiln, and would now be regarded as ‘wasters.’
After the death of Böttger in 1719 there follows an intermediate period,
still in a measure experimental, during which the factory was under the
charge of four

PLATE XXXI. MEISSEN, COLOURED ENAMELS

commissioners. The blue and white of the Chinese was imitated, but not
very skilfully. They were more successful with the café au lait glaze, which
at that time was in great favour.
It is to the Viennese painter, Johann Gregorius Herold, or Höroldt (b.
1696; 1720-65 at Meissen), that the credit must be given of establishing a
definite school of decoration. He began, however, with the imitation of
Oriental designs. At this time the Japanese Kakiyemon ware (both the paste
and the pattern) was closely copied. The blue and white with Chinese
designs was at length more successful, and now the poudré blue and other
monochrome grounds of the Chinese were also imitated. On the other hand,
to this time (1730-40) also belong the earliest armorial dinner-services—
those with the arms of Saxony and Poland for the electoral court, and more
than one set with the arms of the Count Brühl for that pomp-loving
nobleman.[157]
A new direction was given to the manufacture soon after the
appointment (in 1731) of Johann Joachim Kändler (1706-1775) to the place
of chief modeller. He it was that, abandoning the clumsy imitations of
Chinese gods and monsters, first recognised the capabilities of porcelain as
a material for those little statuettes and groups of figures that we have since
that time come to associate above all else with the European porcelain of
the eighteenth century, and especially with that of Germany. The subjects
were taken partly from the social life of the day. In part also they carried on
the tradition of the ‘Italian comedy’ and of the conventional pastoral life
that we find in the French art of a somewhat earlier date. The pictures of
Watteau and Lancret were much sought after at that time by the princely
collectors in Germany, and a few choice works of these artists, as well as
many somewhat muddy copies and imitations of native origin, may be seen
in the gallery at Dresden.
The plastic qualities and the infusibility of the paste, together with the
thinness of the coat of glaze, enabled the artist to obtain a clearer and
sharper reproduction of his model than was ever possible with the soft
pastes and the thick lead glazes of the English imitations.[158] The best of
these little figures, however, belong to rather later times, for during the last
years of Augustus the Strong (he died in 1733) Kändler was occupied with
more ambitious commissions—life-sized figures of the twelve apostles, an
equestrian statue of the king, and figures of animals, to decorate the new
rooms of the Japanese palace. But these attempts to employ porcelain as a

material for monumental sculpture (in the style of Bernini) ended in failure.
There is at South Kensington a series of figures in plain white, dating from
this period, apparently destined to form part of a small fountain, and from
these a very good idea of this application of the ware can be formed.
It was about this time, or a little earlier, that the passion for porcelain
flowers, generally in plain white ware, spread through Europe. These or
similar ornaments were even fastened to ladies’ dresses,—witness the gros
papillons en porcelaine de Saxe, which we hear of as sewed on to the state-
dress of a French marquise. This was the ware that it paid best to
manufacture, both here and at Saint-Cloud and Vincennes. Porcelain
flowers were applied at a later time to the whole surface of a vase. These
‘Schneeballen vasen,’ as they are called in Germany, were even reproduced
at King-te-chen for exportation to Europe.[159]
With the employment of professional artists—flower-painters,
landscape-painters, and painters of genre scenes—to adorn the surface of
the already glazed ware with miniature pictures, a style of decoration came
in, if decoration it can be called, which became more and more the
dominant note of European porcelain during the next hundred years. The
flower-painter came first with realistic, well-shaded little nosegays, in the
style of the Dutch painters of the day; then landscapes, views of real towns,
sometimes in a purple-red monochrome, and surrounded by a gold rococo
frame to imitate that of an oil picture. The free use of gold, however, in the
European porcelain of this time, was to some extent a saving point. It
helped, as gold always does, to pull together the decoration. On the earlier
Meissen ware the gold is most solidly applied and has worn well.
The palmy days of the Meissen factory, when seven hundred workmen
were employed and large profits made, came to an end with the Seven
Years’ War. Frederick, in 1759 and again in 1761, looted the Albrechtsburg
and carried away to Berlin the models and moulds as well as many choice
pieces of porcelain. The rest of the stock was sold by auction, and the
archives of the works were at the same time destroyed.
It was about this time that the most violent of the several porcelain
fevers that distinguished the eighteenth century was raging, and the period
of the Seven Years’ War may be regarded as the culminating epoch in the
history of European porcelain. Both at Sèvres, and with us in England, this
is certainly the case. But at Meissen the best had already been produced; the

vieille saxe of our ancestors is a product of an earlier period—the thirties,
the forties, and the early fifties. During the decade succeeding the close of
the war there was little falling off in France and England. At Meissen,
however, there now followed a period of decline both artistic and financial.
We find a ‘professor of painting,’ one Dietrich, at the head of a ‘school of
design,’ and he seems to have been the most prominent man associated with
the works at the time. Such an association is a sure sign of the wrong
direction now being given to the manufacture. There was some fitful revival
later in the century, after the appointment of Count Marcolini to the
direction. He was an active minister of the last elector and first king of
Saxony—Frederick Augustus the Just—and he held the post of director at
Meissen for more than forty years (1774-1815). Marcolini’s name is
associated with certain changes of style which in the main reflected the
various phases of a taste, or rather fashion, which took its watchword from
Paris.
There are indeed two main divisions of this later period: during the first,
sentimental motifs and an affectation of domestic simplicity prevailed; the
second period was more especially the time when classical models were
followed, and it culminated in the Empire style. The first phase is
represented in Saxony by the works of the French sculptor Acier; in the
later classical time the fashion came in of copying antique sculpture in
white biscuit.
The Marcolini period is the last that has any interest for us. It was
commercially at least a time of decline. It is said that Josiah Wedgwood,
when he visited the factory at Meissen in the year 1790, offered to run it as
a speculation of his own, paying a rental of £3000 to the king. The marvel is
that the manufacture survived the troubles of the Napoleonic wars when
Saxony suffered so much.
During the nineteenth century Meissen has followed more or less in the
wake of Sèvres. Huge pieces were produced for presentation, heavily
painted with copies of famous pictures in the Dresden Gallery, or adorned
with frieze-like bands in monochrome, in imitation of ancient sculpture.
During the same time, imitations of the vieille saxe, the marks included,
were made with some success, and much cheap ware has been
manufactured for the market, so that commercially the Meissen works have
for some time had a flourishing career. The change that has come over
Sèvres of late, the search after new methods, both in the composition of the

paste and in the decoration, has not, I think, been reflected to any extent at
Meissen, nor has the scientific side of the potter’s art been illustrated by any
works such as those of Brongniart and Salvétat. Indeed the old traditions of
secrecy have been maintained in a measure up to the present day. It was
only in 1863 that the porcelain factory was removed from the castle rock at
Meissen, where it had been carried on for a century and a half, to a more
roomy and convenient position in the neighbourhood.
The well-known mark of the two swords (Pl. c. 27) cannot be traced by
means of dated specimens further back than the year 1726. This mark had
its origin in the privilege claimed by the Saxon electors of carrying the two
imperial swords before the Emperor at his coronation. On the earliest pieces
we find either the letters A. R. in blue (Pl. c. 26), or else a roughly painted
caduceus, or rather rod of Æsculapius (Pl. c. 25), the first on ware for court
use, the second on that made for the market. An incised mark cut with the
wheel across the two swords is said to indicate the ware that was sold
undecorated, generally pieces with some slight defect. We may note that a
similar practice was at one time in use at Sèvres. The addition of a star to
the swords indicates the Marcolini period. These eighteenth century marks,
however, were copied not only in England and by private firms in Germany,
but also on the imitation of the vieille saxe made in the last century at the
royal works at Meissen, so that their presence on a piece of china is of little
value in identifying the date or place of origin.

C H A P T E R XVI

THE HARD-PASTE PORCELAIN OF GERMANY—(continued).

VIENNA—BERLIN—HÖCHST—FÜRSTENBERG—LUDWIGSBURG—NYMPHENBURG
—FRANKENTHAL—FULDA—STRASSBURG.

THE HARD AND SOFT PASTES OF SWITZERLAND, HUNGARY, HOLLAND, SWEDEN,
DENMARK, AND RUSSIA.

I N spite of the elaborate precautions that were taken—the oaths of
secrecy, the military guards that accompanied the relays of china-clay to
the fortress at Meissen in which the works were established—by the
middle of the eighteenth century, at nearly all the courts of Germany,
imperial, royal, or serene, we find a porcelain manufactory already in full
work. It was the fashion of the day, and took its place, like the opera
company or the stud, in the equipment of an up-to-date Residenz-Stadt.
Only one or two of these princely factories survived the time of turmoil at
the end of the century and the Napoleonic invasions. In no single one of the
works can we find that any fresh line was struck out or any important
improvement made either in technique or in design. The products of these
different factories are often to be distinguished only by the marks they bear,
and these marks are as often as not forgeries. We shall therefore confine
ourselves to a somewhat summary description, pointing out especially the
relations of the different centres to one another. The starting of a new
manufactory generally depended upon the successful bribing of some
official or foreman of works: at the beginning such aid was sought from
Meissen, but later on the assistance came from Vienna or from Höchst, so
that on this ground the relation of the works to one another might be
represented by a rough kind of genealogical tree.

Vienna.—The beginnings of the factory at Vienna were humble. Claude
du Paquier, a Dutch adventurer, took out a patent for making porcelain in
1718, and with the aid of an enameller and gilder from Meissen, one
Hunger, a man with some knowledge of chemistry, carried on the work on a

modest scale, until in 1744 his factory and his secrets were bought by Maria
Theresa for 45,000 gulden. The Viennese porcelain was henceforth, until
the extinction of the industry in 1864, marked with the Hapsburg shield,
generally in blue, under the glaze (Pl. c. 28), with the addition, after 1784,
of a contracted year-mark.
So long as the kaolin from Passau was employed the paste was inferior
to that of Meissen and Berlin, but in later days a better material was
obtained from Bohemia. The most flourishing period was from 1770 to
1790, and in 1780, we are told, there were three hundred and twenty men
employed. In early years the porcelain did not differ much from that of
Dresden, but in 1784, when Conrad von Sorgenthal became director, a new
style was introduced which has made the Viennese in some respects the
typical ware of a bad period. Much attention was paid to the gilding and to
the pigments employed, and the surface of the porcelain was covered by an
elaborate and often gaudy decoration. We are, however, informed by an
eminent German authority that ‘from 1785 to 1815 the Viennese porcelain
among all the manufactures of the time took, from an artistic point of view,
the highest rank’ (Jaennicke, Keramic, Stuttgart, 1879). It is in any case
remarkable that, during a period of disastrous war and foreign occupation,
so much bad porcelain and good music should have been produced at
Vienna. It was at this time that the chemist Leithner obtained, for the first
time, an intense black from uranium and perfected the process by which
platinum is applied in low relief.
To the same chemist we must also attribute another speciality of the
Viennese porcelain of this time,—the decoration with designs in polished
gold upon a dead ground of the same metal. There are some elaborately
decorated plates at South Kensington which well illustrate the merits or
demerits of this ware. In spite of the early foundation of the factory, the
Viennese porcelain, as a whole, falls into the later ‘sentimental to classical’
period, that contemporary with Marcolini at Meissen and with the earlier
hard paste of Sèvres. The historical development of the ware is well
illustrated in the Industrial Museum at Vienna, and it may be acknowledged
that some success was obtained with small figures and even life-sized busts.
A good deal of cheap and meretricious stuff made in the numerous private
kilns in and around Vienna in the latter half of the nineteenth century has
lately found its way into the English market.

Berlin.—The porcelain of Berlin is of some interest to us for two
reasons, one historical and the other of a technical nature. On the one hand
it was thanks to the fostering care of the great Frederick that the factory first
assumed any importance, and on the other it was the great attention given in
later days to choice of materials (together with the refractory nature of the
paste) that led to this pure white ware being employed above all others in
the laboratory of the chemist. As at Vienna, the origin of the works was
humble, and in this case one perhaps might even say ‘shady,’ if we are to
believe the story that it was the workmen who had stolen from the pocket of
Ringler, the arcanist of Höchst, the papers containing his recipes and private
notes, who were engaged in 1750 by the merchant Wegeli, the first to set up
a kiln for porcelain at Berlin.[160]
The ware that Wegeli made is not important. We find little figures and
groups in imitation of Kändler as well as cups and teapots decorated in
blue, sous couverte, with little sprigs; his mark, a W., has unfortunately
been used at other factories. It was indeed rather the banker Gotzkowski
who was the practical founder of the Berlin works, for Wegeli had
abandoned his enterprise at the commencement of the Seven Years’ War.
German writers are not agreed as to what share should be given to the
king in the removal of the staff and workmen of the Meissen works to
Berlin in 1761. Frederick at that time was hard pressed by his enemies and
in great want of money; in the letter, quoted below, he writes that he has
nothing left but his honour, his coat, his sword, and his porcelain. He has
been accused of forcibly removing to Berlin, not only the workmen, but the
artists also and other members of the staff at Meissen. On the other hand, it
is claimed that the removal was voluntary, and brought about by the offers
of good pay made by Gotzkowski. Frederick at that time had other things to
do,[161] and it was not till the close of the war in 1763 that he purchased
Gotzkowski’s new works for a large sum. He now had leisure to take a
personal interest in the manufacture. About this time the kaolin which had
been previously brought from Passau, in Bavaria, was obtained, of better
quality, from the quarries near Halle which still supply the Berlin works.
The sale of the porcelain was forced with true Prussian energy: its purchase
was obligatory for lottery prizes, to the amount of 10,000 thalers every year,
and no Jew could obtain a marriage certificate except on the production of
the receipt for the purchase of a service of porcelain. It is for this reason
that the Berlin ware is in Germany sometimes known as Juden porcellan.

Grieninger, a Saxon, was the practical manager of the works from the time
of their foundation by Gotzkowski to the end of the century. During this
period the porcelain produced differed little from that previously made at
Meissen. A shade of pink, derived from the purple of Cassius, was much
admired by Frederick, and forms the pendant to the famous rose-colour of
his bitter enemy, Madame de Pompadour.
The changes made after this time were chiefly of a practical nature. The
horizontal furnaces were early replaced by the cylindrical type now
generally in use in Europe, and as long ago as 1799 steam power was
employed in the preparation of the materials. The chemist, above all, has at
all times played an important part at Berlin.
Many strange applications of porcelain, some more curious than really
beautiful, were introduced about the beginning of the nineteenth century. A
close imitation of lace and tulle, made by dipping into a specially prepared
slip a real tissue which was afterwards burned away, was a nine days’
wonder when first introduced. (A veiled bust in white biscuit of Queen
Louise of Prussia, now at Dresden, is perhaps the most famous example of
this ware.) Another application of porcelain was to the ‘transparencies’ or
lithophanie, in which the design, as seen by transmitted light, was given by
variations in the thickness of the paste.
The only mark of interest on the porcelain of Berlin is the sceptre (Pl. c.
31), the prized ensign that the electors of Brandenburg bore on their shield
as an emblem of their position as Arch-Chamberlains of the Holy Roman
Empire.[162] It was this sceptre (very slightly indicated on the earlier
examples, and resembling, perhaps intentionally, the Saxon mark) that the
Prince de Ligne observing on his plate, when dining with the king, affected
to take for a sword, and made the occasion of a ‘two-edged’ compliment.

Höchst.—The fayence of Höchst, a town lying between Frankfort and
Mainz, had acquired some reputation early in the eighteenth century, and
already, by the year 1720, one of the manufacturers, Göltz, had attempted to
make porcelain. But not until he had obtained the assistance of a runaway
workman or ‘arcanist’ from Vienna, one Ringler (a name which occurs over
and over again in similar connections—see note, p. 262), was anything of
importance accomplished.[163] The kilns were now rebuilt on the Viennese
model, and by the year 1746 porcelain of good quality was produced. The

works had already received many privileges from the local prince, in this
case the archbishop-elector of Mainz, and about 1778 (or perhaps earlier)
the whole establishment was purchased by him. This prince was a patron of
art and fond of display, so that during his day the manufacture was
conducted on a non-commercial basis. The chief claim to attention of the
ware made at Höchst depends upon the little lifelike figures that were
modelled by a clever sculptor who worked there from 1768 or 1770 to
1780. The work of this Johann Peter Melchior, who survived till 1825, is
preferred by some collectors to anything made at Meissen. He migrated late
in life first to Frankenthal, and then to Nymphenburg. The wooden models
from which he worked are now much sought after in Germany. It is stated
that the kaolin used at Höchst was obtained from Limoges, but this can only
apply to a comparatively late period. The works came to an end with the
invasion of the French in 1794. The mark, a six-spoked wheel, sometimes
surmounted by a crown (Pl. c. 29), is derived from the arms of the arch-
episcopal see of Mainz,—indeed the Höchst ware is sometimes known as
porcelaine de Mayence.

Fürstenberg.—The Duke Karl of Brunswick was one of the earliest
German princes to establish a porcelain factory; this was at the castle of
Fürstenberg, on the Weser. The works were organised about 1746 by the
Baron von Langen, who was something of an arcanist; and from Höchst, in
1750, the assistance of an experienced potter, one Bengraf, was obtained.
Bengraf had to escape by stealth from Höchst, where he had been in the
employ of Göltz, and reached Fürstenberg after many sufferings and
privations. A point of interest in connection with the porcelain made at a
later time at this factory is that flour-spar (fluoride of calcium) has formed
an important element in the composition of the glaze. In the Museum at
Brunswick may be seen more than eight hundred specimens of this
porcelain, and any want of originality is made up for by the extraordinary
variety and number of the different wares that have been copied. It is not
perhaps surprising, in view of the close family ties existing between the
dukes and our second and third Georges, to find copies of our English soft
pastes, especially of Chelsea. The clarets and maroons of this latter ware
were imitated with some success. A landscape-painter of some local fame,
whose works may be seen in the gallery at Brunswick, one Pascha Weitsch,
was employed to paint views on this porcelain, and good portrait-busts—of