THE CH’ING [chch] DYNASTY, 1644–1910
The reigns of the Manchu chieftains T’ien Ming, T’ien Tsung, and Ts’ung
Tê (1616–1643) are included in the chronology of the Ch’ing or Pure
Dynasty, but it is more usual to reckon that period from 1644, when
the Emperor Shun Chih [chch 2] was firmly established on the throne
after the suicide of the last of the Mings. Little is known of the
ceramic history of the seventeen years during which Shun Chih occupied
the throne. The official records which deal only with the Imperial
factory are almost silent, and when they do speak it is merely to
chronicle failures. It is clear, however, that the Imperial factory
at Ching-tê Chên had again been opened; for orders were sent in 1654
for a supply of large “dragon bowls” for the palace gardens. They were
to be 2½ feet high, 3½ feet in diameter, 3 inches thick at the sides,
and 5 inches at the bottom. For four years the potters wrestled with
this difficult order without success. This time there was no “divine
T’ung” to purchase success by a holocaust of himself; and eventually
the Emperor was persuaded to withdraw the command. No better fortune
attended an order given in 1659 for oblong plaques (3 feet by 2½ feet,
and 3 inches thick) which were intended for veranda partitions.
Beyond these two negative items there is no information of the reign of
Shun Chih in the Chinese books, and the porcelain itself is scarcely
more illuminating, for authentic marked examples of this period are
virtually unknown. A figure already mentioned as bearing the date 1650
belongs rather to the pottery section, but it shows that the traditions
of the Ming glazes of the _demi-grand feu_ were still kept alive.
The blue and white and the polychrome made in the private factories at
this time have been discussed with the transition wares (pp. 89 and
90), and for the rest we can only assume that the Shun Chih porcelains
are not to be distinguished from those of the last Ming reigns on the
one hand, and those of the early years of K’ang Hsi on the other.
Reflecting on the insignificance of the Shun Chih porcelains, one is
tempted to ask how it is that the celebrated Lang T’ing-tso, whose
name is usually associated with the beautiful Lang yao of the K’ang
Hsi period, did not succeed in raising the wares of this period to a
more conspicuous level. Lang T’ing-tso was governor of Kiangsi from
1654 and viceroy of Kiangsi and Kiangnan from 1656–1661 and again from
1665–1668. His name is mentioned (according to Bushell,[259] at any
rate, for I have not been able to verify the statement) in connection
with the efforts to make the dragon bowls for the palace in 1654; but
we shall return to this point in discussing the Lang yao.
Meanwhile, we pass to the reign of K’ang Hsi [chch 2] (1662–1722),
the beginning of what is to most European collectors the greatest
period of Chinese porcelain, a period which may be roughly dated from
1662–1800. Chinese literary opinion gives the preference to the Sung
and Ming dynasties, but if monetary value is any indication the modern
Chinese collector appreciates the finer Ch’ing porcelains as highly
as the European connoisseur. These latter wares have, at any rate,
the advantage of being easily accessible to the Western student, and
they are not difficult to obtain provided one is ready to pay the high
price which their excellence commands. It will be no exaggeration to
say that three quarters of the best specimens of Chinese porcelain in
our collections belong to this prolific period, and they may be seen
in endless variety in the museums and private galleries of Europe and
America, nowhere perhaps better than in London itself.
[Illustration: PLATE 88
Two examples of the underglaze red (_chi hung_) of the K’ang
Hsi period (1662–1722), sometimes called _lang yao_
Fig. 1.--Bottle-shaped Vase of dagoba form with minutely crackled
_sang-de-bœuf_ glaze with passages of cherry red. The glaze
ends in an even roll short of the base rim, and that under the
base is stone-coloured and crackled. Height 8½ inches.
_British Museum._
Fig. 2.--Bottle-shaped Vase with crackled underglaze red of deep
crushed strawberry tint. The glaze under the base is pale green,
crackled. Height 10¾ inches.
_Alexander Collection._]
With regard to the porcelains made in the early years of K’ang Hsi
there is very little information, and their special excellence has
been assumed mainly on the supposition that the Viceroy Lang T’ing-tso
exercised a beneficent influence on the wares of this period. He is
reputed to have been sponsor of the Lang yao, which in the ordinary
acceptation of the term[260] includes the beautiful _sang de
bœuf_ red, an apple green crackle, and perhaps a cognate crackled
green glaze on which are painted designs in _famille verte_ enamels.
The explanation of the term _lang yao_ is far from clear, and, as
already hinted, the connection of the viceroy Lang T’ing-tso with this
or any other of the K’ang Hsi porcelains is by no means established.
Bushell[261] accepted the derivation of Lang yao from the first part
of the viceroy’s name as representing the best of several Chinese
theories, and on the supposition that “the ceramic production of this
time has retained the name of the viceroy, in the same way as the names
of Ts’ang Ying-hsüan, Nien Hsi-yao, and T’ang Ying, who were in turn
superintendents of the Imperial potteries, were afterwards given to the
_Ts’ang yao_, _Nien yao_, and _T’ang yao_.” There are many objections
to this reasoning. In the first place, Lang T’ing-tso was viceroy of
the two provinces of Kiangsi and Kiangnan for three or four years only
(1665–1668) during the reign of K’ang Hsi, and it was only in his
capacity as viceroy of Kiangsi that he would have been concerned with
Ching-tê Chên, even supposing that the man who had charge of two large
provinces could find time to devote himself to the details of ceramic
manufactures. Secondly, it is nowhere recorded that Lang T’ing-tso was
concerned in any way with the direction of the potteries, so that there
is in this respect no parallel between him and the directors Ts’ang,
Nien, and T’ang. Thirdly, the history of Ch’ing-tê Chên as given in the
_T’ao lu_, and the history of Chinese porcelain as given in the _T’ao
shuo_, make no mention whatever of _lang yao_ or of Lang T’ing-tso,
while the former takes special notice of the wares of Ts’ang, Nien, and
T’ang, and the latter discusses T’ang’s work at some length. Had so
important a person as the viceroy of two provinces been connected with
the invention or perfection of such celebrated wares as the _lang yao_,
the occurrence would hardly have escaped the notice of the Chinese
chronicler.
There are other attempts to explain the name _lang yao_. In the
catalogue of Mr. A. B. Mitford’s collection[262] it is stated that “the
Lang family were a family of famous potters who possessed the secret
of this peculiar glaze and paste. They became extinct about the year
1610.” Bushell[263] dismisses this with the comment that “the family is
apocryphal and the porcelain antedated,” and in the same passage gives
an alternative theory, viz. “this name has been derived by some Chinese
of less weight from that of Lang Shih-ning, an artist protégé of the
Jesuits,[264] who also lived in the reign of K’ang Hsi, and whose
pictures are still appreciated.”
The evidence for all these versions seems to be equally defective.
They are, in fact, mere assertions, and the reader can take his choice
of any of them, provided he does not insist on Mr. Mitford’s date
(anterior to 1610), for all authorities are now agreed that the _lang
yao_ is a K’ang Hsi production. The fact is that the name has been
handed down without any explanation, and the current theories are of
comparatively modern construction. The secret of the _lang yao_
consisted in the first instance in the knowledge of means to produce
a brilliant red glaze from copper oxide. It was not a new discovery,
but merely a revival of the wonderful “precious stone” red of the
early Ming period.[265] The supplies of some essential ingredient
for this colour had failed in the Chia Ching period,[266] and the
secret of the true colour had been temporarily lost. This secret was
now recovered probably by a potter of the name of Lang, and that
name has been associated with it ever since. So far from the _lang
yao_ being limited to the early part of the reign of K’ang Hsi or
to the few years when Lang T’ing-tso might have been concerned with
it, there can be little doubt that the _sang de bœuf_ red or red
_lang yao_ is the special colour described in detail by Père
d’Entrecolles in 1712, and again in 1722 under the significant name
of _yu li hung_, or “red in the glaze.” The reader can judge for
himself from the description given in the second letter[267]: “This
red _inside the glaze_ is made with granulated red copper and the
powder of a certain stone or pebble of a reddish colour. A Christian
doctor told me that this stone was a kind of alum, used in medicine.
The whole is pounded in a mortar and mixed with a boy’s urine and
the ordinary porcelain glaze; but I have not been able to ascertain
the quantities of the ingredients, for those in possession of the
secret take good care not to divulge it. This mixture is applied to
the porcelain before it is fired and no other glaze is used; but care
has to be taken that the red colour does not run to the bottom of the
vase during the firing. They tell me that when they intend to apply
this red to porcelain they do not use porcelain stone (_petuntse_)
in the body, but they use in its place, mixed with the porcelain
earth (_kaolin_), a yellow clay prepared in the same manner as
the _petuntse_. Probably it is a kind of clay specially suited
to receive this colour.” Would that the worthy father had named the
possessors of the secret! Had it been a Jesuit family, is it likely
that he would not have said so? But here, at any rate, is not only such
an accurate description of the manufacture of the _sang de bœuf_
red that little need be added to it, but also a valuable commentary on
the obscure passages in which the allusion is made to the brilliant
red of the Hsüan Tê and other early Ming periods. For what is the
reddish stone or pebble but the “red precious stone from the West,”
which played a mysterious part in the _pao shih hung_ of the Hsüan
Tê period? Chinese tradition has imagined this stone to have been the
ruby, on the impossible assumption that the red colour of the glaze
was derived from the red of the ruby. But it was, in all probability,
cornaline (the _ma nao_ used in the Sung porcelain of Ju Chou) or
amethystine quartz, and its only function would have been to increase
the brilliancy and transparence of the glaze, the red colour being
entirely due to copper oxide. It is interesting, too, to note that the
composition of the porcelain body was varied to suit this red colour,
and that a yellow clay was substituted for the porcelain stone, in view
of the alleged difficulties in obtaining the proper “earth for the
fresh red (_hsien hung_)” in the Chia Ching period. In a similar
manner a more earthy composition was found to be more sympathetic than
the pure white porcelain to some of the other monochromes, as may be
observed in existing specimens of turquoise blue.
The _lang yao_, then, is the _chi hung_ of the K’ang Hsi period, the
brilliant blood red commonly known by the French name _sang de bœuf_,
and to-day it is one of the most precious monochromes. A choice example
illustrated on Plate 88 shows the changing tints from a brilliant
cherry red below the shoulder to the massed blood red where the
fluescent glaze has formed thickly above the base. The colour flowing
down has left an even white band round the mouth, and has settled in
thick coagulations on the flat parts of the shoulders and again above
the base; but in spite of its apparent fluidity the glaze has stopped
in an even line without overrunning the base. The glaze under the base
is of pale buff tone and crackled, and a careful examination of the
surface generally shows that a faint crackle extends over the whole
piece. The glaze, moreover, is full of minute bubbles and consequently
much pinholed, and the red colour has the appearance of lying on the
body in a dust of minute particles which the glaze has dragged downward
in its flow and spread out in a continuous mass, but where the colour
and the glaze have run thick the particles reappear in the form of a
distinct mottling or dappling.
To obtain the best colour from the copper oxide in this glaze
it was necessary to regulate the firing to a nicety, the margin
between success and failure being exceedingly small. Naturally, too,
the results varied widely in quality and tone; but the permanent
characteristics of the K’ang Hsi _sang de bœuf_ are (1) a brilliant
red varying in depth and sometimes entirely lost in places,[268] but
always red and without any of the grey or grey blue streaks which
emerge on the _flambé_ red and the modern imitations of the _sang de
bœuf_; (2) the faint crackle of the glaze; (3) the stopping of the
glaze at the foot rim. The colour of the glaze under the base and
in the interior of vases varied from green or buff crackle to plain
white. The secret of this glaze, which Père d’Entrecolles tells us was
carefully guarded, seems to have been lost altogether about the end
of the K’ang Hsi period. Later attempts to obtain the same effects,
though often successful in producing large areas of brilliant red, are
usually more or less streaked with alien tints such as grey or bluish
grey, and are almost invariably marred by the inability of the later
potters to control the flow of the glaze which overruns the foot rim
and consequently has to be ground off. But it is highly probable that
the modern potter will yet surmount these difficulties, and I have
actually seen a large bowl of modern make in which the ox-blood red
was successfully achieved on the exterior (the interior was relatively
poor), and the flow of the glaze had been stopped along the foot rim
except in one or two small places where the grinding was cleverly
masked. So that it behoves the collector to be on his guard.
Fig. 2 of Plate 88 shows another type of red, also classed as _lang
yao_, which has the same peculiarities of texture as the _sang de
bœuf_, but the colour is more of a crushed-strawberry tint, and has in
a more marked degree that thickly stippled appearance which suggests
that the colour mixture has been blown on to the ware through gauze.
This is probably the _ch’ui hung_ or _soufflé_ red mentioned by Père
d’Entrecolles in connection with the _yu li hung_. The same glaze
is often found on bowls, the colour varying much in depth and the
base being usually covered with a crackled green glaze beneath. This
crackled green is a very distinctive glaze, highly translucent and full
of bubbles, like the red _lang yao_, and it is sometimes found covering
the entire surface of a vase or bowl and serving as a background for
paintings in _famille verte_ enamels. It seems, in fact, to be the true
green _lang yao_, and one is tempted to ask if it was not in reality
intended to be a _sang de bœuf_ red glaze from which a lack of oxygen
or some other accident of the kiln has dispelled all the red, leaving
a green which is one of the many hues produced by copper oxide under
suitable conditions. These conditions might well be present in such an
enclosed space as the foot of a bowl; and if they happened to affect
the whole of the piece, what more natural than to trick out the failure
with a gay adornment of enamel colours?
On the other hand, what is commonly known as green _lang yao_ is
the brilliant emerald or apple green crackle which has already been
discussed on p. 102. But why this colour should be connected in any
way with the Lang or any particular family is a mystery. The method
of producing it is transparently obvious--a green enamel laid over a
stone-coloured crackle; and there are examples of all periods from
the Ming down to modern times. Indeed, the modern specimens are only
distinguished with the greatest difficulty from the old.
* * * * *
To return to the history of the period from which we digressed to
discuss the _lang yao_, the progress of the reviving industry suffered
a rude set-back between 1674–1678 when the Imperial factory was
destroyed during the rebellion of Wu San-kuei, viceroy of Yunnan. It
is improbable that up to this time any notable development had taken
place in the manufacture of porcelain, and those who think to flatter
a specimen by suggesting that it is “_very_ early K’ang Hsi” are likely
to be paying a doubtful compliment. When, however, peace was restored
and the factory rebuilt, a veritable renaissance of the porcelain
industry began. In 1680[269] an official of the Imperial household was
sent to reside at the factory and to superintend the work; and we are
told in the _T’ao shuo_[270] that “previously to this the first-class
workmen had been levied from the different districts of Jao Chou;
but now all this forced labour was stopped, and as each manufactory
was started the artisans were collected and materials provided, the
expenses being defrayed from the Imperial exchequer and the money paid
when due, in accordance with the market prices. Even the expenses for
carriage were not required from the different districts. None of the
proper duties of the local officers were interfered with; both the
officials and the common people enjoyed the benefit, and the processes
of manufacture were all much improved.”
The success of this new movement was assured by the appointment in
1682 of Ts’ang Ying-hsüan [chch 3] to the control of the Imperial
works. We are not told how long this distinguished person retained the
directorship, but his merits are clearly indicated in the encomiums
of a subsequent director, the celebrated T’ang Ying. In his “History
of the God of the Furnace Blast,” the latter states that when Ts’ang
was in charge of the factory the god laid his finger on the designs
and protected the porcelain in the kiln, so that it naturally came
out perfect. Unfortunately, the notice of Ts’ang’s work in the _T’ao
lu_[271] is in the conventional style, and extremely meagre. The earth
used, we are told, was unctuous, the material lustrous and thin. Every
kind of colour was made, but the snake-skin green (_shê p’i lü_), the
eel yellow (_shan yü huang_), the (?) turquoise ([chch 2] _chi ts’ui_),
and the “spotted yellow” ([chch 3] _huang pan tien_) were the most
beautiful. The monochrome (_chiao_)[272] yellow, the monochrome brown
or purple (_tzŭ_), the monochrome green, the _soufflé (ch’ui)_ red and
the _soufflé_ blue, were also beautiful. The Imperial factory under the
administration of T’ang-ying imitated these glaze colours.
Most of these colours explain themselves. The _soufflé_ red is no
doubt the same as the _ch’ui hung_ described by Père d’Entrecolles and
discussed above with the so-called _lang yao_. The _soufflé_ blue will
be no other than the familiar “powder blue.” But the “spotted yellow”
is an ambiguous term, for the Chinese _huang pan tien_[273] might
mean a yellow glaze spotted with some other colour, a mottled yellow,
or even a glaze with yellow spots like that of a rare vase in the
Eumorfopoulos Collection, which has a brown black glaze flecked with
greenish yellow spots.
Bushell identified the spotted yellow glaze with the “tiger skin,”
with its patches of green, yellow and aubergine glazes applied to
the biscuit, which in the finer specimens is etched with dragon
designs.[274]
This is practically all the direct information which the Chinese annals
supply on the K’ang Hsi period, but in contrast with this strange
reticence we have a delightful account of the industry at Ching-tê Chên
during this important time in the two oft-quoted letters[275] written
by the Jesuit father, d’Entrecolles, in 1712 and 1722. The worthy
father’s work lay among the potters themselves, and his information was
derived from first-hand observation and from the notes supplied by his
potter converts, with whatever help he was able to extract from the
Annals of Fou-liang and similar native books. No subsequent writer has
enjoyed such a favoured position, and as his observations have been
laid under heavy contribution ever since, no apology is necessary for
frequent reference to them in these pages.