WHAT, 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, 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. 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 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. 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 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, [Image unavailable.] 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 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. [Image unavailable.] In France, 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 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 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. 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 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. |