THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURY GLASS OF PERSIA, INDIA, AND CHINA
I shall now devote a short chapter to the glass made in Asia, that is
to say in Persia, in India, and in China, in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries.
This later Asiatic glass, though so thoroughly Oriental in character,
can as a whole scarcely be regarded as a product of strictly indigenous
growth, for in nearly all cases the technique of the manufacture, in
some indeed the materials and even the ‘metal’ itself, can be traced
back to Europe. It is for this reason that I have reserved its
treatment to this late stage.
We are fortunate in possessing in the Oriental galleries at South
Kensington, as well as in the British Museum, a comparatively rich
series of examples of this later Oriental glass, not a few of them of
great beauty and interest. As a class it can probably be studied
nowhere so well as in London.
The Chinese glass of the eighteenth century is above all of interest to
us, for upon it more than upon anything else is based the only new
departure in the treatment of the material that the nineteenth century
can lay claim to—the ‘New Glass,’ I mean, that has taken so important
a place of late among the minor art products of France. It is therefore
not altogether illogical that this glass of the Far East should find a
place in our history between the English glass of the eighteenth
century and that now being made in France.
The glorious enamelled glass of the Saracens, of which I have given
some account in a former chapter, was already a thing of the past
before the end of the fifteenth century. This was at least the case in
Syria and Egypt, where alone the art as we know it had flourished. I
have attributed this sudden decline, as regards the first country, to
the invasion of Timur early in the century. On this occasion a whole
army of craftsmen was transferred, it is said, from Damascus to Timur’s
new capital at Samarkand. In Egypt the narrow-minded fanaticism of the
later Memlûk Sultans and the troubles that preceded the Turkish
conquest were doubtless factors in the artistic decline. As far as the
Mohammedan East is concerned, there is thus an obscure period in our
history extending to the end of the sixteenth century for which there
is little or nothing to show. Glass of some sort doubtless continued to
be made in Syria, and perhaps in Egypt, but little that is distinctive
or of artistic interest was produced.
When we again come upon specimens of Oriental glass, it is no longer in
the Mediterranean countries but in Persia, and to a less extent in
Northern India, that we find them. Not only so, but the glass that we
now have to deal with is of an entirely different character. With a few
rare exceptions, the thick jewel-like enamels of the Syro-Egyptian
school are now as much a thing of the past as the carved glass of a
still earlier time.
The PERSIAN GLASS of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries is, as a
whole, thin and transparent, either simply blown or in part moulded. In
spite of the purely Oriental character of the outlines of this glass,
the influence of Venetian methods in the preparation and modes of
working is in most cases apparent. As I have said, it would be out of
the question to treat of this later Oriental glass, little of which is
probably earlier than the seventeenth century, before we had acquired
some knowledge of the renaissance glass of Italy.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XLVI_
GLASS Of PERSIAN TYPE, FROM A TOMB AT BAKU
VINCENT ROBINSON COLLECTION]
Whether Timur or his successors succeeded in establishing the Syrian
glass industry in the Khanates of Turkestan we do not know. There is a
vague tradition that in the fifteenth century the glass of Samarkand
was the finest in the East. It is, however, to a much later time that
the earliest specimens of what I may call the Veneto-Persian family of
glass belong—to the time of the Sufi dynasty in Persia and to that of
the Moguls in Northern India.
Of Persian glass there indeed still exist a few rare examples which may
perhaps date from an earlier time. I have already referred (p. 172) to
the little drinking-bowl of honey-coloured glass in the British Museum
decorated with enamels of good quality—turquoise, red and white (Plate
XXVII. 1). The figure of an angel upon it is thoroughly Persian in
character; not only in the enamels, but in the horny quality of the
honey-coloured metal, this little bowl closely resembles the spherical
lamp ornament mentioned on p. 156, that has very properly been placed
beside it on the shelf of the Museum.
Among the few pieces of later Oriental glass in the Slade collection is
a small covered bowl, probably of Persian origin, with a formal design
of iris and other flowers. In spite of the somewhat modern air of this
bowl, due perhaps to the solid and rather crude gilding, the thick,
semi-transparent enamels, blue and pale green, take us back to the
earlier Saracenic work.
But such examples are quite exceptional. As a rule, on the glass
brought back from Persia—there is quite a large collection at South
Kensington and a few choice pieces in the British Museum—the
enamelling, if present at all, is of the poorest description—it
belongs essentially to our ‘painted’ class. This enamelled decoration,
as on some little bottles at South Kensington, appears to be but a rude
imitation of the floral patterns that we see, for example, on the
lacquered bindings of Persian books.
On the other hand, the tall-necked flasks of thin
glass—scent-sprinklers and wine-bottles—give proof of considerable
manipulative skill (Plate XLVII.). To judge by the patterns in low
relief on the sides, many of these vases, in spite of the thinness of
the glass, must have been blown into a mould. The tall neck ends either
in a flat-spreading lip or is bent over into that characteristic
Persian form—not unlike the head of a bird with large beak—of which
we may see an imitation or at least a kindred shape in certain Venetian
double-necked cruets. At one time a fashion prevailed of fitting into
the interior of these thin flasks elaborate bouquets of flowers built
up with coloured enamels of opaque glass, a somewhat childish fancy,
reflecting the weaker side of later Persian art.
Of more interest is the ruder glass, often decorated with a profusion
of _appliqué_ strips, quilled and worked up with the pincers. In such
examples we are strikingly reminded both of a class of peasant glass
from the South of Spain, and again of the late Roman glass from the
Rhine and other districts.
On the other hand, certain bowls and vases of deep blue glass,
decorated with floral designs in a solid gilding, have an almost
unpleasantly modern air. A pair of vases so decorated, now in the
British Museum, came, however, from the Strawberry Hill collection, and
they may well date from the early eighteenth century.
Finally, I will mention a remarkable variety of glass worked generally
into the form of tall, thin-necked flasks; within the greenish
transparent metal float irregular masses of an opaque deep red. We have
here, in fact, the elements of which the famous Chinese glazes—the
_flambé_ and the _sang-de-bœuf_—are made up. As in these glazes, so in
this case in the glass, the effect doubtless depends on the partial
reduction of the incorporated copper-oxide.
I should add that engraved glass seems never to have found much favour
with the Persians. On the few specimens that we have in our
collections—they are decorated with birds and flowers rudely ground on
the wheel—the work is of the poorest description.
[Illustration:
_PLATE XLVII_
GLASS MADE IN PERSIA
SEVENTEENTH OR EIGHTEENTH CENTURY]
I have so far taken it for granted that the bulk of this glass is of
comparatively modern origin, and I have found confirmation for this
opinion in the close relation of so much of it to the glass made at
Murano in the seventeenth century. Still more definite evidence is,
however, at hand, as the following passage from the travels of Sir John
Chardin will show.[266]
‘There are Glass-Houses all over Persia, but most of the Glass is full
of Flaws and Bladders and is Greyish from the account doubtless that
the Fire lasts but three or four days, and that their _Deremne_ as they
call it, which is a sort of Broom, which they use to make it, does not
bear heat so well as ours. The Glass of _Chiras_ is the finest in the
Country; that of _Ispahan_ on the contrary is the sorriest, because it
is only glass melted again. They make it commonly in Spring. They do
not understand to Silver their Glass over, therefore their Glass
Looking-glasses are brought from _Venise_, as also their sash glasses
[_glaces de châssis_] and their pretty Snuff-Bottles. Moreover, the Art
of Glass-making was brought into Persia within these last four score
Years. A Beggarly and Covetous Italian taught it at _Chiras_ for the
sum of fifty Crowns. Had I not been informed of the matter, I should
have thought that they had been beholded to the Portuguese for their
Skill in so noble and so useful an Art. I ought not to forget to
acquaint you with the Persian Art of Sowing Glass together very
ingeniously, ... for provided the Pieces be not smaller than one’s
Nail, they sow them together with Wyre and rub the seam over with a
little white Lead or with calcined Lime, mixed with White of Egg, which
hinders the water from soaking thro. Among their Sentences there is a
goodly one relating to the ingenious piece of work just mentioned: _If
broken glass be restored again, how much more may Man be restored again
after his Dissolution in the Grave?_’
Closely connected with this Persian glass is the deep amber or
honey-coloured glass, said to have been made in the island of RHODES. A
small collection of rudely executed bottles, pilgrims’ flasks and
bowls, obtained in that island and in Cyprus, may be seen at South
Kensington; they are there ascribed to the sixteenth century, I do not
know on what grounds. These little vessels are all of the simplest
shapes, such as could be formed directly from the _paraison_ at the end
of the blowing-iron, without removing the glass to the pontil. Some
small hand-grenades of greenish black or of opaque jasper glass in the
British Museum, come for the most part from Cyprus.
I may here say a word of the glass still in use in the Mohammedan East.
At the present day the glass-works at Hebron, which I have already more
than once mentioned, supply most of the common native glass in use both
in Egypt and Syria[267]—of that of European origin there is no need to
speak. Edward Lane describes the small conical lamps of thin glass
‘having a little tube at the bottom in which is stuck a wick twisted
round a piece of straw.’ This is an old type of lamp that I have dwelt
upon in a former chapter. Perhaps the most interesting form of glass
vessel now in use in Cairo and Damascus is the covered sherbet-jug or
bowl—the _Kulleh_. I have before me an example from Cairo made of a
nearly opaque white glass, decorated with floral designs rudely painted
on and perhaps not fired. Where this glass is made I do not know. We
may perhaps regard the ware as a survival of the _lattimo_ of the early
eighteenth century (cf. Lane, _Modern Egyptians_, 1842, vol. i. p. 224).
[Illustration:
_PLATE XLVIII_
BASIN, ENAMELLED WITH WHITE FLOWERS ON GOLD GROUND
INDIAN, SEVENTEENTH OR EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.]
INDIAN GLASS.—The classical writers had a tradition that the best
glass in the world was made in India, thanks above all to the use of a
pure rock crystal in the manufacture. There are some vague references
to glass in the later Sanscrit literature, and in one of the older, but
not the oldest, of the Hindu books, a distinction is made between a
vessel of glass and one made of crystal. But it would be useless to
search in the Hindustan of to-day for any examples of so early a date.
Apart from a few beads which may be assigned to Buddhist times,[268] I
can point to no examples of Indian glass of earlier date than the Mogul
dynasty. It is to that period—hardly, indeed, before the later
seventeenth century—that we must attribute certain remarkable examples
of glass, found for the most part in Delhi, which are now in the Indian
Department at South Kensington. There may be seen an example of
enamelled glass of great beauty (Plate XLVIII.). This is a vase of
somewhat milky glass with spreading mouth, some eleven inches in
diameter; it is described as a washing-basin; the gilt ground is _semé_
with little white flowers, each with a red pistil. Of no less interest
are the two hookah-bases of engraved white glass. On these the
technique of the engraved work—but not the Oriental design of
conventional flowers—much resembles that of the Bohemian cut-glass;
there are no incised lines, and the oval depressions representing the
leaves are carefully polished. Unlike the engraved glass of Persia, the
work shows signs of a complete mastery of the process. It will be
noticed that in the case of one of these vessels the clear _cristallo_
is unchanged, while in the other the glass is, as it were, frosted,
apparently by the incipient decay of the surface. In the same case may
be seen some tall vases of thin white glass, of a type very similar to
the Persian sprinklers. These also come from Northern India.
It would be useless to search for an early native origin for work of
this kind. Were it, however, possible to find in India any glass that
we could connect with the Turki Khanates of Bokhara and Samarkand, the
old homes of the Mogul family, we should thereby be provided with a
connecting link that would not unlikely carry us back to the Syrian
enamelled glass of the fourteenth century (see above, p. 168). But
nothing of the kind, as far as I know, has so far turned up in
Hindustan. On the whole, this Mogul glass, in spite of the exceptional
artistic and technical qualities of the specimens just described,
belongs to that bastard school of Saracenic art that is prevalent
generally in the north of India. Its artistic parentage may probably be
traced back to Venice by way of Persia. Equally Persian in character
are the four-sided bottles painted with figures and flowers, somewhat
in the style of the Cashmiri lacquer. A remarkable series of little
flasks of this character, formerly in the Marryat collection, may be
seen in the Indian Department at South Kensington, where, however, they
are described as ‘Indo-Dutch.’
It is certainly disappointing to find in India such a total absence of
native glass with any claim to antiquity. But some consolation may be
derived from the discovery—for discovery it may be called—made not
many years ago, that in more than one part of Hindustan, native
craftsmen were turning out vessels of glass by a strangely primitive
method. Sir Purdon Clarke, who has always had at heart the maintenance
of the native industries of the country on the old lines, tells me that
this modern Indian glass was first noticed at Calcutta, and with some
difficulty traced to Patna. Here, by the most primitive methods, the
native workmen were turning out among other things imitations of
European lamp-glasses. The furnace consisted of a series of elaborate
passages hidden beneath a heap of ashes. These chambers were originally
formed by a scaffolding of cardboard frames which, when the arrangement
was completed, were set on fire.
Somewhat more ambitious are the furnaces which Mr. H. C. Dobbs found in
use in the neighbourhood of Benares and Lucknow (_Journal of Indian
Art_, vol. vii.). The material here employed was either imported or
‘country’ glass, but we are not told how the latter was prepared. The
little circular ovens, less than five feet in height, are rudely built
up of clay; there are two cylindrical chambers back to back, each of
two stories, but of the four compartments thus formed three are devoted
to the gradual cooling of the wares. It seems doubtful whether in these
furnaces the glass is ever thoroughly melted, and though use is
certainly made, in a primitive way, of the blowing-tube, the method of
working resembles rather the treatment of a piece of iron in the
blacksmith’s forge. The glass is constantly reheated and patted and
pressed.[269] We are, indeed, reminded of the preparation of the
Egyptian glass of the Eighteenth Dynasty, as interpreted by Dr. Petrie
(cf. p. 22). How far the Indian glass-maker in his methods of work is
carrying on an old native tradition, or how far he is merely adapting
what he has learned from Persian or European glass-blowers to the
exigencies of his surroundings, I must leave an open question. I think,
however, that in nearly all cases his starting-point is either with a
mass of imported ‘metal,’ or with fragments of broken glass.
In the Indian Department at South Kensington may be seen a most
remarkable collection of this native glass, obtained in part from Patna
and in part from Hoshiarpur, in the Punjab.[270] This glass is of the
greatest interest and should be closely examined. It is for the most
part of various shades of blue and green, but these shades seem to be
due to copper rather than to iron; at least we do not meet with the
well-known olive greens derived from the latter metal. But the most
striking peculiarity—the charm, I may say—of this glass is due to the
presence of minute bubbles, so numerous and closely packed that the
glass is little better than translucent. To the presence of these
bubbles is also due the peculiar waxy aspect of the surface, and this
with the irregular outline lends to this simple ware a plastic
appearance as if moulded by the hand. Some use is made also of an
opaque yellow glass, and among the examples from Patna are some
decorated with bands of _lattimo_. The shapes call for no special
comment: I will only point to certain curious little scorpion-shaped
scent-bottles with twisted tails, and to the large torque bangles, as
worthy of notice. Of greater interest is the primitive arrangement for
distilling—a combination of aludel and alembic that calls to mind the
illustrations to the Syriac manuscripts that I have mentioned in a
former chapter. Perhaps the principal charm of this native Indian glass
arises from the violent contrast that it affords to the impeccable
_cristallo_ and to the flint-glass that have tyrannised over us so long
in Europe. It is beginning at length to dawn upon us that there are
other qualities than absolute transparency and absence of colour to be
looked for in our material, and it is the attempt to bring these
qualities into prominence that has led to the development in France
within the last few years of quite a new treatment of glass.
GLASS IN CHINA.[271]—There are frequent references in Chinese
literature to a substance called _liu-li_, which the best authorities
tell us may be regarded as a more or less opaque variety of glass. This
_liu-li_ is, in the old books, always closely associated with rock
crystal and jade, and was, indeed, like these stones, classed among the
‘seven precious things’; we also find it described as ‘thousand year
old ice.’ When towards the end of the first century of our era an
attempt was made by the emperors of the Han dynasty to establish
commercial relations with the Roman West, this _liu-li_ was one of the
substances most sought after. The Chinese of this time were, it would
seem, acquainted with the Roman Empire, but probably only with the
eastern provinces. The Ta-tsin of their early writers has been
identified by Dr. Hirth with Syria, and its capital Antu with Antioch:
in these parts at that time they would have had no difficulty in
obtaining the glass that they were in search of. It is indeed not
impossible that it may have been this new and exotic material that
first turned their attention to the glazing of their pottery, for it is
doubtful if they were acquainted with the process before this time.
Again, in the fifth century some merchants who visited North-west India
are said to have learned there the secrets of glass-making, and on
their return to China to have produced _liu-li_ of all colours by the
smelting of various minerals. Once more, in the thirteenth century, we
hear of glass being made by the melting together of certain stones and
drugs, and the word _po-li_—the name given generally to transparent
glass, in opposition to the more or less opaque _liu-li_—is now used
for the first time.
On the other hand, in the annals of the Sui dynasty (581-617) we are
told that China had long lost the art of making glass, but that a high
official of the court succeeded at that time in fashioning vessels of
green porcelain that could not be distinguished from _liu-li_ (Bushell,
_Chinese Ceramic Art_, p. 20). The inference that we must draw from
these contradictory statements is probably that, in spite of many
assertions to the contrary,[272] the art of glass-making was never
thoroughly acclimatised in China till much later times. And this
conclusion is confirmed by the total absence in our collections of any
examples of glass of native manufacture that can be referred to a date
earlier than the eighteenth century.[273] For although we know that
after the return of Marco Polo both the Venetians and Genoese found in
China a market for their beads, if not for more important objects of
glass, and that early in the fifteenth century specimens of Saracenic
enamelled glass found their way to the Chinese ports, the evidence that
any true glass was at that time made in China is of the vaguest
character.[274]
When we come to the eighteenth century we are on firmer ground. Before
the end of the seventeenth century glass-works had been established
under the superintendence of the Jesuit missionaries, within the
precincts of the Imperial Palace at Pekin. At a later time, not long
after the accession of Kien-lung (1735-1795), we hear of a famous
glass-worker, one Hu.[275] This Hu was a craftsman in the Imperial
glass-works, and there made both ‘a clear glass of greenish tint with
an embossed decoration executed in coloured glass, and an opaque white
glass which was either engraved with etched designs or decorated in
colours’ (Bushell, _Oriental Ceramic Art_, p. 400). It is a significant
fact that though the emperor much admired the glass of Hu, his first
thought was to have it imitated in porcelain, the more noble material.
Let us now turn to the specimens of Chinese glass that we find in our
museums. What is probably the largest and most representative
collection in Europe is now in the Museum of Industrial Art at Berlin.
Here are more than four hundred examples brought together by the care
of Herr von Brandt, formerly German minister at Pekin.[276] Smaller but
representative collections of Chinese glass may be seen both at South
Kensington and in the British Museum.
On a few of these pieces is found the date-mark—the _nien-hao_—of the
reigning emperor engraved on the base. As far as I am aware, the
earliest mark so found is that of Yung-Ching (1722-1735), on a vase in
the Berlin Museum. The name of Kia-King (1795-1821) has also been
noted, but by far the most frequent mark is that of Kien-lung
(1735-1795), of whom I have already spoken in connection with Hu of
‘the ancient moon.’ Probably most of our finest specimens of Chinese
glass date from the second half of the eighteenth century, and to that
period we may no doubt refer a series of magnificent examples of blown
glass at South Kensington. These large pieces, of such excellent metal
and showing so complete a command of technique, may probably be
regarded, in spite of the Arabic inscriptions found on one or two of
them, as a result of the teaching of the Jesuit missionaries; they were
perhaps made by remelting imported glass. Notice especially the huge
bowl or flower-pot with scalloped edge, built up, by some sort of
‘casing’ process, of two layers of glass, the inner, nearly opaque, of
pale blue, the outer, dark blue and transparent. This bowl bears the
date-mark of Kien-lung and is a triumph of technical skill. Not less
remarkable are the two large vases of deep purple glass, bearing on the
sides and necks large medallions with Arabic inscriptions in relief on
a ground apparently chipped with a tool.[277] Of even greater interest
are the two covered bowls of transparent cobalt glass with a quaint
design built up of the smooth Chinese dragon or salamander and of the
character for ‘long life.’ The part not engraved is curiously wrinkled
or pitted, so as to form a sort of epidermis on the surface—by what
means I do not know. The Chinese succeeded in making a yellow glass of
a fine deep tint; a variety of this with opaque spots—the ‘rice-grain’
structure—is apparently much prized. Of the mottled red and yellow
glass, made it would seem in imitation of tortoise-shell, there are
many examples in our collections. We are reminded by it of some of the
effects of the _flambé_ glazes; the prevailing colour given to this
glass is, however, of an orange rather than a blood-red tint (Pl. XLIX.
2).
[Illustration:
_PLATE XLIX_
CHINESE GLASS
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY]
But in spite of these early technical triumphs, blown glass has always
remained something of an exotic in China. To the Chinese mind, glass—a
material never held in much esteem—is above all a substance to be
employed in the imitation of precious marbles and gems. Lacking itself
all classical and literary associations, glass can only find a
reflected honour from these more noble substances. With this object in
view, the skilled Chinese craftsmen were soon able to produce the most
marvellous _tours de force_, and indeed to develop an entirely new
treatment of the material—a method of handling which, at all events
since the best Roman times, had been elsewhere completely neglected.
Their aim above all was the imitation of jade: half-molten masses of
glass, of two or more colours, were worked up and dragged through one
another; the glass was then carved into the old traditional forms.
Objects of the native stone were thus imitated with the most marvellous
accuracy. This was a process much resembling that adopted by the
Alexandrian Greeks and the Romans for one class of their agate glass
bodies; but the Chinese showed greater restraint in the blending of the
colours, and were at greater pains to imitate closely the natural
stones. As I have said, the forms taken by this glass follow those into
which the Chinese had been wont from time immemorial to carve their
jade, their agates, and their milky chalcedonies; but we may note that
their carvings in rock crystal were not copied in glass. Besides the
little tripod bowls and cups with archaic designs in relief, natural
objects were imitated, fruits and flowers especially—the opening calix
of the lotus, the ‘Buddha’s hand’ citron, or again the almond-shaped
peach, symbol of long life.
We must now turn to the little glass snuff-bottles, in the decoration
of which the Chinese carried their original methods to the highest
perfection. We have indeed in these the only form of Chinese glass that
has found any favour with European collectors.
The lid of these snuff-bottles is often of another material—metal,
coral, or carved lac—and to it is attached the little ivory spoon with
which the snuff is extracted. I may point out that little flasks of
similar shape, made generally of porcelain, the _yao-ping_ or
medicine-bottles, have long been in use in China for pills, rare drugs,
and eye-medicines. These _yao-ping_, whether for medicines or for
snuff, were often carved out of various stones—the moss-agate and the
red and white carnelian were special favourites—and it was above all
these many-coloured varieties of the quartz family that were copied in
glass, in the first place probably by the above-mentioned Hu. The
infinite variety in the technique and in the decoration of these little
flasks—this may be seen in any large collection, such as that formed
by Mr. Salting[278]—is at first overwhelming, but most of them will
fall under one or other of the following classes:—
1. Snuff-bottles imitating a natural stone, as amianthus, malachite, or
chalcedony, formed by the simple _interpenetration_ of masses of glass
of different colours. Such bottles are generally not carved on the
surface.
2. Those of the nature of an onyx, built up by the _superposition_ of
two or more layers of glass of different colours, the under surface
being exposed in places by the carving away of the upper layers as in a
cameo. We thus get a carnelian red or a deep blue design on a milky
white ground. In other cases a jade-green passes by gradation through a
pink layer to a pure white. Such an arrangement may be skilfully made
use of to obtain a blend of colours on the petals of a lotus or other
flower.
3. In this class the superficial colours do not enclose the whole core,
but lie scattered on the surface. By this means green, red, blue, and
yellow patches, all standing on the same level, may be made use of in
the design. In such work we may see the climax of the Chinese technique
in this _genre_, and the result has apparently been brought about by
placing these patches of coloured paste on the sides of the mould
before the introduction of the core of plain glass. Though this is
technically a triumph of ingenuity, the flasks thus decorated are by no
means the most beautiful of the series.
Besides these, many other methods of decoration may at times be found
on these snuff-bottles; we see elaborate designs painted in enamel on
the interior, showing through the transparent glass, or again an opaque
paste resembling porcelain may be decorated with colours on the
surface. Avanturine glass is probably of late introduction, but
spangles (of reduced copper) are sometimes made to appear locally in
the clear glass as a golden cloud.[279]
We know little of the source or of the composition of the glass used by
the Chinese. Some of it was made in Pekin, but the province of Shantung
seems to have long been the centre of the glass manufacture.[280] Here
were made the little bricks of coloured glass (four inches by twelve
and two inches in thickness)—the _Po-li-chuan_—which were sold to the
glass-workers and enamellers in Pekin and elsewhere. These glass bricks
were at one time imitated in Bohemia with the special object of
supplying the Chinese markets—the imitations were known in the trade
as _pomana_. As to the materials from which the native glass was made,
there is little or no available information. We are told incidentally
that it was compounded by fusing a certain rock with saltpetre.[281]
This statement, and the fact of the use of imported ‘metal’ from
Bohemia, make it probable that the glass belongs on the whole to the
potash family. So again, the Chinese have long been acquainted with
lead fluxes and enamels, and it was doubtless this experience that
enabled them to command such a surprising range of colours in the
glasses with which they built up their little snuff-bottles. We shall
then probably not be wrong in regarding the glass of these bottles as
of the potash-lead family.[282]
Finally, we may say of this Chinese glass that it can lay claim to a
prominent and distinct place in any general history such as this, on
the ground not only of the originality of its technique, but also
because of the influence which, as I have already pointed out, it has
had of late years upon the ‘new glass’ of France.
The position of JAPAN with regard to glass is a unique one. It is
perhaps the only country that in past or present times has taken an
important place in the world of art where the use of glass, whether for
practical or æsthetic purposes, has remained almost absolutely unknown.
I make this statement, of course, of the country as it was before the
late revolution. Nowadays the art of glass-making, like other Western
arts, is practised with some success, but without, I think, any
original developments which would call for notice. The name they have
for glass—_bidoro_—is evidently derived from the Spanish _vidrio_, or
the Portuguese _vidro_. But the Japanese never appear to have taken
even that sporadic interest in the material that they showed for other
exotic productions that at times filtered in from the West.
What I have said applies to feudal and recent times. If, however, one
goes back to the period that preceded the dawn of Japanese history, one
finds that plain beads of clear glass, both blue and white, have been
discovered in the dolmen tombs.[283] Examples of these beads may be
seen in the Gowland collection in the British Museum. Again, in the
famous Shoso In Treasury at Nara are two vessels of glass:—(1) a
shallow bowl of transparent green glass, carved in relief with a design
of fishes and water-plants; (2) a cup of white glass, carefully
executed, the surface carved with a diaper pattern made up of shallow
hexagonal hollows. There is no reason to doubt the well-authenticated
record that these glass bowls were deposited with the rest of the
collection by the Emperor Shomu in the year 756 of our era. There are
in the same Shoso In, and in other Imperial collections among objects
dating from this time, examples of metal ware and of silk brocade that
show evidence of a Western Asiatic, probably Sassanian, origin. These
and other objects that are undoubtedly of an exotic origin may perhaps
many of them have been presents from the Chinese emperors on the
occasion of embassies from Japan. It is certainly a fact that in the
previous century the sons and retainers of the last Sassanian ruler of
Persia had fled before the Arab invaders and taken refuge with the
Chinese court, bringing with them such treasure as they had been able
to save from the general wreck. This fact may give a hint as to the
origin of the Shoso In glass. At any rate, in China at this period
there is no evidence of any skill in glass-working.