III

THE BOW CHINA FACTORY

In this “Chat” we shall treat of the wonderful porcelain made at Bow, or “New Canton,” as the makers called their factory on the banks of the Lea. It was established about 1730, and it ceased about 1776. That is to say, it commenced with the reign of George II. and continued for a short time during the reign of George III. Pope was not dead, Fielding was writing his novels, Burke was electrifying the country with his genius, the great Doctor Johnson was in the midst of his Dictionary, David Garrick was holding the town in a spell by his art, and Sir Joshua Reynolds was, with his brush, perpetuating the beauties of his day, while Burns and Scott, Wordsworth and Coleridge, and Byron, Thackeray, and Dickens were then in the unborn future.

So this porcelain of Bow comes to us direct from the eighteenth century. We have been taught to regard the eighteenth century as a period of lace-ruffles and wigs, of powder and of patches, of dull, insipid ladies, of hard-drinking squires, of rough soldiers—a century with little or no love of art, when Shakespeare had been almost forgotten. Of its china, certainly, we call up only a picture of ugly grinning monsters, and little meaningless gee-gaws—snuff-boxes and patch-boxes, and china handles for walking-sticks; but a glance at what Bow produced dispels so crude an idea at once, and, let us hope, for ever. Bow, in its own field, is worthy to stand by the side of what Sir Joshua has left us, and what Gainsborough bequeathed to posterity as poetic memories in paint and canvas of “dead women, loved and gone.”

As in our other “Chats” on Derby and Worcester and Chelsea, so with Bow, we shall have to tell of the human lives that have gone to the making of these fragile porcelain figures, all that is left to us of dead men’s life-work—which Polly or Molly or Elizabeth Ann may demolish by a fatal twist of the feather-brush. A patent was taken out by Edward Heylin, in the parish of Bow, and Thomas Frye, of the parish of West Ham, in 1744, for a new method of manufacturing “a certain mineral, equal to, if not exceeding in goodness and beauty, china or porcelain ware imported from abroad. The material is an earth, the produce of the Cherokee nation in America, called by the natives unaker.” In 1749, Thomas Frye took out, alone, a second patent “for a new method of making a certain ware, which is not inferior in beauty and fineness, and is rather superior in strength, than the earthenware that is brought from the East Indies, and is commonly known by the name of China, Japan, or Porcelain Ware.”

A word or two concerning Frye. Our Irish readers will be glad to learn that he was born at Dublin, in 1710. He came to London in 1738, when, he painted a portrait of Frederick, Prince of Wales for Saddlers’ Hall. At the establishment of the Bow factory he took the management. To bring the china to perfection, he spent fifteen years of his life among furnaces, which had so bad an effect upon his health that his constitution nearly broke down. In 1759 he had to go to Wales for a change of air, and in 1760 he returned to London, and we find him taking a house at Hatton Garden, where he executed some important mezzotint engravings—which, as Mr. Rudyard Kipling observes, “is another story.” He died of consumption in 1762. Perhaps Oliver Goldsmith had him in mind (who knows?) when he wrote his line—

To ladies it will be especially interesting to read that Frye had two daughters, who assisted him in painting the china at Bow.

Readers will, before now, have come to the conclusion that the study of old china is not superlatively easy, and that the question of marks is at the best a vexed one. Should there be any who have any lingering doubts on this point, they will speedily join the majority when they come to consider the bewildering marks of the Bow factory. These same marks, be it said, have puzzled experts who have denied each other’s conclusions, though with hardly as much vehemence as the late Mr. Bret Harte’s learned society “Upon the Stanislaus,” who engaged in conflict “with the remnants of a palÆozoic age” in shameful manner—

We give one set of the known marks of the Bow factory, later we shall give another set no less puzzling. It is difficult to attempt to offer any definite conclusions, or to do more in the space at our disposal than to state that these are marks known to have been used at Bow, and are upon specimens in the national or well-known private collections. The letter B and the drawn bow, of course, explain themselves. The crescent in blue and the sword and anchor in red occur together on a china figure of a sportsman with a gun. It is conjectured that the introduction of a dagger may have been due to the fact that both proprietors were freemen of the City of London, and the dagger, as is well known, is part of the City arms. The triple mark of the anchor with the vertical and horizontal daggers, by some collectors is ascribed to early Chelsea, by others to Worcester; it is a disputed point.

The little figure we reproduce (on p. 50) is of a woman playing the pastorella. It is one of a pair of figures. The other represents a man singing. Each figure is marked in red with both anchor and dagger. The pastorella represented in the figure was a musical instrument in general use previously to the introduction of the spinet. It may be remarked that at the back of each of these figures, near the base, a square hole has been pierced before glazing, for the purpose of receiving a metal stem supporting nozzles for candles. As this square hole is said never to be found on similar Chelsea pieces, it has come to be regarded as a distinctive feature of old Bow figures.

Among the various articles made at the Bow factory may be enumerated the following, which have been taken from the account-books of the factory: Shepherds and shepherdesses, cupids, fluter, fiddler, harlequin, columbine, pierrot or clown, tambourine player, Dutch dancer, woman with chicken, birds on pedestals, swans, boars, squirrels, goats, as well as many miscellaneous articles for general use, such as salt-boxes, candlesticks, mugs, pickle-stands, &c. We reproduce an inkstand, four inches in diameter, of white glazed porcelain decorated with flowers, which decoration we call attention to as being characteristic of Bow. An inscription appears at the top: “Made at New Canton, 1751” (p. 49).

Since Chaucer’s day, Stratford-le-Bow has come down to us in rhyme, for the poet playfully pokes fun at the good nun in his “Canterbury Tales”:—

But should china collectors who travel down the Great Eastern Railway wish a further fillip to remind them of Bow, sundry soap and candle factories, with stench so strong that it knocks at the railway windows, will arrest their straying thoughts. The literary reader may, when he catches glimpses of the brown and oily ooze of the River Lea, think of Coleridge’s lines to Cologne and the River Rhine.

And here at Bow linger still the memories of the old factory—a century old—where Quin as Falstaff was turned out in porcelain, and Garrick posed as Richard III. in a china figure. A match factory stands on the site of the old Bow China factory, but there is still a “China Row” to suggest the old days of “New Canton” and its wares.

The discovery is interesting of fragments of old Bow porcelain, and portions of “saggers” on the site of one of the kilns while digging a drain from the match factory.

The children of the neighbourhood were observed to have as playthings bits of broken china of a high-class and delicate ware, never emanating from the china shops of Bow, and Mr. Higgins, attached to the match factory, henceforth kept strict watch over the excavations, and careful examination unearthed a number of broken specimens of the Bow ware. He and his sister carefully arranged the broken pieces, and they form an excellent authority, these trays of broken china, for determining the paste and glaze, and identifying the decoration and designs of Bow. By means of this find it was possible to classify many doubtful pieces of china in well-known collections hitherto wrongly attributed to other factories. This discovery by excavation was followed many years later by a similar find at Lowestoft.

It is interesting to note that among the fragments found, not a single piece is of Delft or common earthenware, but all are of porcelain. The designs of many of them are of Chinese landscapes, with flowers, figures, and birds. Their general character may be gathered from sketch of four examples. They are all painted in blue with the exception of a cup painted with green leaves and crimson-lake flowers. None of the pieces is printed, but all are painted with a brush. The other two illustrations we give are of china ornamented in relief, the favourite pattern being the mayflower. Each of these Bow cups is a typical example. The design stands out very sharply, and is raised from the surface of the china. The cups are rather heavy for their size.

Among the dÉbris were found many pieces of an ornamental character, a salt-cellar beautifully modelled, formed of three shells, with smaller shells and seaweed between, but the upper shell to hold the salt is missing. Pieces of dishes, evidently intended to hold sweetmeats, were unearthed from this sewer hole, with finely designed corals and shells and seaweeds. Some natural shells were also found, which had evidently served the artists as models. Two china pug-dogs were discovered with collars bearing roses on them.

Bow paste is exceedingly hard, and the fracture when it is broken is close and compact. The pieces as a rule are very heavy for their size, but many of the cups and saucers are almost of egg-shell thinness. The colour is milky white. Should any of our readers be possessed of Bow china, they may ratify its origin by carefully examining it, if possible, under a magnifying glass. On scrutinising the blue pieces it will be found there is a peculiarity in the glaze, which arises in this manner. At that time blue was the only known colour that would bear the intense heat of the kiln. It was always painted on the biscuit before being dipped in the glaze. It is found that certain portions of the blue, however slight, are apt, while the glaze is in a fluid state, to spread over the surface, giving it a blue tinge. The other colours as well as the gold were painted over the glaze, and set in a kiln of lower temperature. Hence the blue, being under the glaze, is imperishable, and the other colours from frequent use get rubbed off.

We have given a number of marks used at Bow; we supplement that list by two others, one of which is exclusively composed of signatures actually used by Thomas Frye himself.

Although none of the ware unearthed at Bow was printed, yet printed ware did come from there. In all probability it was sent to Liverpool to have the transfer engravings, so much in vogue when Bow flourished, put on the china. As early as the year 1756 this was done, for certain entries appear in the Bow books: “One pint printed mug: a sett compleat of the second printed teas.” Or it is possible that they were sent to Battersea to be printed. It is not a far cry from Bow to Battersea. Transfer printing on enamel was in vogue at Battersea before 1755. Horace Walpole, writing to a friend in 1755, says, “I send you a trifling snuff-box, only as a sample of the new manufacture at Battersea, which is done with copper-plates.” But Battersea and Battersea enamel—that is another story.

It is to be hoped that this “Chat” on old Bow china will have helped readers, to whom Bow is a name, to form some idea of what went on there more than a century ago. The china cabinet holds more mysteries within it than many a good housewife dreams of. It will be seen that the difficulties of china-collecting are legion. At the modern find at Bow, lovers of china ought to be grateful, for it enabled many vexed questions to be settled, but what is Bow and what is Chelsea still puzzles experts. In all probability Bow, Bristol, and another very much debated factory, Lowestoft, will continue to offer traps and snares and pitfalls for the unwary collector (or misshapen falsities attributed to them) till connoisseurs are no more and collecting days are done. The find in 1903 at Lowestoft is as important as the find at Bow, but it is exceedingly unlikely that any more facts will ever come to light respecting these old factories; every available source of information has been tapped and all that can be known concerning them is known. The potters who made the exquisite shapes, the artists who painted the roses on bowl and beaker, have long since departed with the roses of yester-years. Their life-work is scattered. Much of it, perhaps most of it, is gone for ever. Each cup and each dish of the long-dead artist is like “a good deed in a naughty world.” To-day, with a handful of facts, collectors and connoisseurs wrangle together over theories.

Disputes have been held as to the origin of certain pieces of puzzling technique. Some experts have believed them to be Chelsea or Longton Hall. Even the “Craft Bowl,” one of the earliest pieces of Bow china, now at the British Museum, is known to have been decorated in a kiln at Kentish Town.

Characteristics of Bow China.

Body and glaze often defective, pattern so arranged as to cover flaw. Insects often introduced for this purpose to hide imperfections. Coarse, chalky white ware, covered with glaze much pitted and speckled. The bottom often shows three marks representing points on which piece rested in kiln. The glaze is thickly applied, and fills up interstices of raised patterns. The body and glaze varied; the earlier pieces have a yellow tinge in the glaze. The bottoms of some basins and dishes are often twice as thick as the sides. The ware, owing to large amount of lead used, is discoloured.

SALE PRICES.