The Story of Porcelain Part 6

"I should not like that at all."

"Nor did your ancestors," laughed Mr. Croyden. "Well, it was to these Mohammedan Arabs, or Saracens, as they are termed, that Europe fundamentally owed its knowledge of the use of glaze, and its consequent beginning in the art of pottery-making. The Saracens did not, however, remain in Spain. There was an uprising of the Christians and they were either driven out or slaughtered, almost every relic of their civilization being destroyed. A stray temple or palace alone remains as a monument to them and this was more the result of chance, probably, than of intention. For two centuries following came an interval known as the Dark Ages, when none of the arts flourished.

But before the Moors had fled from Spain the Italians who lived near at hand and whose territory the invaders often plundered had tired of their pillaging and in return had made an expedition into the Saracens' country bringing back with them to Italy some of the Majolica ware of the Arabs. When the nations began to awaken out of their two hundred years of warfare and strife, and Genoa, Venice, and Leghorn became great commercial centres, then the Renaissance came and the Italians, who were ever an ingenious people, began among other things to attempt to copy the glaze on this Majolica ware. As a result in the fifteenth century Luca della Robbia, who was both a sculptor and a potter, contrived to perfect his wonderful glazed terra cotta."

"Not the Delia Robbia who did the Singing Boys we have on the wall at school!"

"The very same. He made great blue and white enameled tiles for wall decoration too; figures of babies and children, as well as whole altars fashioned entirely from this beautiful enamel. Whether he used a plumbiferous, or lead glaze; or a stanniferous, or tin glaze, we do not know. Probably it was of tin. But the important fact is that he got a fine durable surface, very shiny and very hard, which wrought a revolution in pottery-making. If you visit Florence some time you can still see set in the walls of some of the public buildings the identical enameled terra cottas made by Luca della Robbia."

"I'd like to see them."

"Then tell your dad to take you to Italy after this war is over. We will pray that Germany may spare these art works of the world."

Mr. Croyden did not speak for a moment; then he said:

"And while you are remembering so many things remember in addition that the word _glaze_ comes from the term _gla.s.sing_ or _glazing_, which means putting a coating of gla.s.s over the surface. Of course the covering is not really gla.s.s, but it is hard and shiny, and so people used to think it was. Some day I will tell you more about the different kinds of glazes."

"So it was the Italians who gave Europe its glazed pottery and porcelain," remarked Theo.

"Not alone the Italians," protested Mr. Croyden, "although they helped. Somebody else had a share in the discovery--somebody very far away from Italy. It was the knowledge of the Italians combined with the skill of this other distant nation that gave to Europe the perfect product."

"What nation was that?" demanded Theo.

"The Dutch."

"The Dutch!"

"Yes. You see at this time the Dutch were great traders, and it was while the nation was at the height of its commercial glory that the Dutch began bringing from China shipments of Chinese porcelain.

Portuguese traders had also brought some of it into Europe, so in these two ways the beautiful blue and white ware we know so well was introduced to the Continent.

"The Portuguese were content to import it; they never attempted to copy either the pottery or the porcelain. But the Dutch were more ambitious. As early as 1300 they began experimenting with glazed pottery. To the knowledge of glaze which they got from Italy they added all they could find out about the making of Chinese wares. They learned that the blue color the Chinese got came from oxide of cobalt, which would melt and mingle with the glaze when exposed to a high temperature; they also learned a little--a very little, of the clay. As a result they began to turn out a blue and white pottery known as Delft, which they soon made in great quant.i.ties and sold to European nations at a much lower price than imported Chinese potteries and porcelains could be bought."

Mr. Croyden bent forward and tossed a small log upon the fire.

"This fact revolutionized daily living throughout Europe. Up to this time you must remember the common people everywhere were using square pieces of tile or wood for plates, and were eating from wooden bowls or hollowed out slabs of wood called trenchers. The more well-to-do used pewter, and kings and queens dined from dishes of silver. There was, it is true, some earthenware made in Saxony and France, but as it was of a finer and more expensive quality than Delft ordinary persons could not afford to buy it.

"At the time the Dutch began importing their Delft ware into England Henry IV was on the throne; so you see how long ago all this happened."

Mr. Croyden smiled mischievously.

"I suppose you have that date at your tongue's end," he added.

"I think it was about 1400," ventured Theo thoughtfully.

"Bravo! I had no idea you would remember it. Henry IV reigned from 1399 to 1413, so you see you are nearly right. As Delft ware began to be manufactured in 1310 the art was pretty well developed by this time, and much beautiful pottery was being made. Some of the best Dutch painters were trying their hand at its decoration, and in the Museums of the Hague there are old Delft pieces painted by many of these famous artists. Most of the scenes upon them were copied from the landscapes the Dutch saw every day--windmills, ships, Dutch women in their quaint costumes, fishermen, and children in wooden shoes,--the ordinary sights, such as were common in Holland, but novel and interesting to those who lived in other places. There were, too, many imitations of Chinese ware adorned with copies of Chinese designs. Bear in mind, Theo, that all of this was pottery, not porcelain; for the secret of porcelain-making had not yet been fathomed," said Mr. Croyden impressively.

"It was glazed pottery," responded Theo.

"Exactly," nodded Mr. Croyden. "As time went on the Dutch increased and perfected their output until they became ambitious to make larger pieces. Potters began turning out small foot-stoves, vases, candlesticks, and dinner sets. One of the most amusing relics of this old Delft is now in one of the foreign museums. It is a violin perfectly modeled and exquisitely decorated. The story goes that it was one of four such instruments which were made as wedding gifts for the four daughters of a rich Dutch pottery manufacturer. It is even a.s.serted that the instruments before being presented to the four brides were used by the musicians at the wedding festivities. I'm afraid they did not make very good music."

Theo smiled.

"Besides these fantastic things the Dutch also made tea sets, and when I say that you must realize that this was a very important fact; for up to about 1660 tea was a great novelty in England. It had but recently been introduced there by Oriental traders, and was very expensive, selling for about eight dollars a pound--at that time a great deal of money, and even quite a price when rated by our own standards. People were very ignorant still as to its use. You have probably heard the story of the servant who, knowing nothing about preparing the new delicacy, boiled the tea leaves, sprinkled them with salt and pepper and, throwing away the liquid, served the dainty to his master in a covered dish."

There was a hearty laugh from Theo.

"As late as 1661 an Englishman named Samuel Pepys, whose diary is an interesting record of the time, writes: '_I had to-day some tea--a China drink of which I had never drank before._' Isn't it a pity that while he was writing the little man did not also put down how he liked this new beverage?"

Mr. Croyden drew out his watch and rose.

"So you can see, Theo," he added as he stood with his back to the fire, "what it meant to have tea sets introduced into England. Of course the cups had no handles as do our teacups of to-day. The Chinese cups were in reality small bowls without either saucer or handle. Therefore the Delft teacups copied from them were made in the same way. The Chinese did not drink their tea very hot, you see, and therefore could take hold of the cup without burning their fingers; moreover, they used in their houses tables of teak-wood to which hot cups did no injury. Since, however, teak-wood was unknown in England and oak was in general use the English found that the hot cups marred their tables and later they invented saucers to go under them. Nevertheless it was a long time before it dawned on potters that they could make handles for their cups. One of the ear-marks of tea sets of early manufacture is these handleless cups. With this advent of dishes, of Delft plaques to be hung on the wall in place of pictures, and of Delft tiles, many of the common people for the first time awakened to the discovery that the interiors of their houses might be made attractive, and something more than mere shelters from cold and storm. They began buying vases and crude pottery ornaments, images of flower-girls, fishermen, and of the saints. In Holland people even hung Delft plaques on the walls of their stables. It was a new thought to have anything about which was not for actual use."

"I should think that with all this Chinese and Delft ware to copy from the English would have tried making earthenware of their own,"

speculated Theo.

"They did," was Mr. Croyden's prompt reply, "and of that I will tell you some other day. But there is one interesting fact in connection with these early tea sets. Remember that if ever you see in a museum or private house a tea set which you are told came over in the _Mayflower_ nothing of the sort could have happened. The Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock in 1620, and it was not until from 1660 to 1770 that tea and tea sets became general in England. By that time the Pilgrim Fathers, and more especially the Pilgrim Mothers, were far across the ocean."

Mr. Croyden moved toward the door.

"Some one may have brought tea sets to them but they never carried them in the _Mayflower_," he concluded. "Now I have talked too much for one morning, and it is lunch time. Listen, there is the horn! And see, Theo, the rain has ceased and the sun come out."

"I hadn't thought of the weather," smiled Theo. "I had not thought of anything, I guess, but what you were telling me. You will come again, sir?"

"Surely!"

"And you won't forget your promise to tell me about English pottery?"

"No indeed, son," was the cordial reply. "You are too good a listener for me to forget."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER V

THE POTTER WHO BURNED HIS CHAIRS

It was not for some time that Mr. Croyden again had leisure for a long talk with Theo, because with the return of pleasant weather he and Dr. Swift went for a three days' canoe trip up Elk River, a small stream emptying into the lake on which the camp stood. Dr. Swift had thought of giving up this excursion, because it necessitated leaving Theo for such a long time; but the boy was insistent that his father should go.

"I won't be lonesome, Father," he protested. "Franz is here, and he is as good as a vaudeville show; besides I can read, and whittle, and write to Mother. The days will pa.s.s so quickly I shall not have time to miss you. It would be too bad to have you stay in camp just for me. I have made trouble enough already."

Perhaps it was because of Theo's genuine regret for what he had done that Dr. Swift consented to carry out his original plan. The boy was intensely sensitive, and any allusion to his accident, or any interference with his father's pleasure because of it, immediately brought a shadow of distress to his face. The Doctor was quick to notice this fact; and eager, if possible, to avoid every reminder of the disaster. Accordingly on hearing Theo's plea he packed his tackle, and with a gentle word of caution to the invalid to be careful during his absence, set forth with Mr. Croyden to fish Elk River.

It was no easy thing for Theo to play an unselfish part and see them start off. How he wished that he, too, were going! But for his own folly he might have gone. Well, he had no one to blame but himself, that was certain. Therefore he put as brave a front on the matter as he could, resolving to make the best of it and be cheerful.