Porcelain

CHAPTER   VIII

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued)

Marks

WE 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-li74 (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.

CHAPTER   IX

THE PORCELAIN OF CHINA—(continued)

King-te-chen and the Père D’Entrecolles

THERE 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.