CHAPTER VIII

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.

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