Chapter C: The Willow Pattern And Other Important Blue China Series—Story Of The Willow Pattern

THE Willow Pattern has been perhaps more popular and more universally familiar ever since the first use of the color blue in English potteries than any other design put upon tableware, but in spite of this fact a surprising amount of ignorance or of half-knowledge concerning it still persists. The Chinese story which inspired the English potter-apprentice Thomas Minton, about the year 1780, to compose and engrave the design to illustrate it may best be given in the form of one of the many delightful bits of verse which formerly were taught to children along with their nursery rhymes:

"So she tells me a legend centuries old
Of a Mandarin rich in lands and gold,
Of Koong-Shee fair and Chang the good,
Who loved each other as lovers should.
How they hid in the gardener's hut awhile,
Then fled away to the beautiful isle.
Though a cruel father pursued them there,
And would have killed the hopeless pair,
But kindly power, by pity stirred,
Changed each into a beautiful bird.

Here is the orange tree where they talked,
Here they are running away,
And over all at the top you see
The birds making love alway."

The large pagoda at the right of the design, as reproduced from an old platter, is the palace of the wealthy Mandarin, while upon the terrace stands the summer house where Koong-Shee, the lovely daughter of the Mandarin, was kept a prisoner in order that she might be concealed from Chang, her father's secretary, who loved her and whom she wished to marry. But, as the story runs in "Old China," Chang was poor and the Mandarin had selected a wealthy suitor for his daughter's hand. From her chamber in the prison the unhappy maiden watched the willow tree blossom while yet the peach tree was only in bud, and she wrote verses in which she voiced the hope that before the peach blossoms appeared, she might be free. Chang, however, found means to communicate with Koong-Shee, once by sending a note in a tiny cocoanut shell, which by the aid of a small sail made its way to the captive maiden. Koong-Shee replied by scratching on an ivory tablet the challenge, "Do not wise husbandmen gather the fruits they fear will be stolen?" and, putting the tablet in the boat, she sent it back to her lover.

Chang received the message, entered the Mandarin's garden in spite of the barricades which had been erected to keep him away, and eloped with Koong-Shee. The father gave chase, and there on the bridge the three may be seen—Chang carrying a box of jewels, Koong-Shee with a distaff in her hand, and the angry Mandarin with a whip. The lovers escaped, however, entered the little boat, and sailed away to Chang's house on the island, where they lived happily until the rejected suitor discovered them and burned their home. Then, from out the ashes of Chang and Koong-Shee, who perished in their bamboo grove, there arose two spirits in the form of white doves—the lovers, who forever hover over the scenes of their earthly happiness.

Nearly all of the Staffordshire potters at one time or another made use of the Willow Pattern, or of variants of it. Some of the English designs, erroneously called Willow, have but two men on the bridge, or one man, or they have no boat or birds, being in reality merely arrangements of oriental motifs—trees, pagodas, fences, bridges, etc.—to suit the fancy of individual potters. The borders, too, vary with the pattern in the center, the butterfly, Joo-e dagger, fish-roe, fret, etc., etc., with their own adaptations, offering a separate subject for speculation and identification. The scope of this volume, however, forbids an extended review of this very interesting study of Oriental influence upon the early ceramic art of Europe.

Doctor Syntax Designs

A very interesting series of dark blue prints on pottery was published by James Clews, after the original designs of the English caricaturist T. Rowlandson. Contrary to the usual method of procedure, rhymes were composed to fit the pictures, the combined product becoming very popular in London. William Combe, an eccentric author who was at the time an inmate of a debtors' prison, pinned the cartoons upon the wall of his cell and penned the verses for them. Blue pottery manufacture being at this time at its height in Staffordshire, the well-known Doctor Syntax was made to cater to the sales of pictured tableware in America. The story goes that the learned Doctor, a poorly paid curate of a small English town, sets out upon his gray mare Grizzle on a "Tour in Search of the Picturesque." In his farewell to his wife Dolly, he explains his purpose:

"You charm my heart; you quite delight it;
I'll make a tour — and then I'll write it,
You well know what my pen can do,
And I'll employ my pencil too;
I'll ride and write, and sketch and print,
And thus create a real mint;
I'll prose it here, I'll verse it there,
And picturesque it everywhere."

Then, as the print here presented pictures:

"At length the ling'ring moment came
That gave the dawn of wealth and fame.
Incurious Ralph, exact at four,
Led Grizzle, saddled, to the door,
And soon, with more than common state,
The Doctor stood before the gate.
Behind him was his faithful wife:
'One more embrace, my dearest life;'
Then his gray palfrey he bestrode,
And gave a nod and off he rode.
'Good luck! Good luck!' she loudly cried,
'Vale! O Vale!' he replied."

According to the illustrated rhymes, a long series of adventures await the traveler—he is attacked by ruffians and tied to a tree; he is rescued by two women who appear on "trotting palfreys"; he loses Grizzle, finding him at last with cropped ears and tail, as he thereafter appears in the illustrations; he visits Oxford, loses his money at races, etc., etc. Finally, he reaches London and arranges with a bookseller for the publishing of his Tour. Then, having created his "mint," he returns to Dolly, who, learning of his success:

" . . . . started up in joy's alarms
And clasped the Doctor in her arms."

After several years of happiness, Dolly dies. Doctor Syntax then goes upon a "Tour in Search of Consolation," accompanied by his valet Pat. So successful was this supplementary series that it was quickly followed by a third " Tour in Search of a Wife," wherein after many experiences the sorrowing Doctor secures a mate the equal of his lamented Dolly. His end is an anticlimax—he tumbles into a pond, takes a cold, and dies. A stone is raised to his memory . . .

"And, as the sculpture meets the eye,
'Alas, poor Syntax!' with a sigh,

Is read by every passer by;
And wakes the pensive thought, sincere,
Forever sad! . . . forever dear!"

At least 30 of these prints have been found upon pieces of tableware, the ceramic specimens at the present day almost equaling in value the wonderful old editions of the poem illustrated with the colored engravings.

Don Quixote Designs

A set of at least 21 excellent blue-china prints have been found in this country, reproduced from the engravings of the English artist Robert Smirke, illustrating the adventures of Don Quixote de la Mancha. These also come from the Clews pottery works, and are framed in a handsome deep border composed of a widespreading six-scalloped star within the rounded points of which flowers and birds appear.

Transplanted from the barren, sun-scorched hills and plains of their native southland, and set in fresh English landscapes, amid English flowers and trees and English castles, beneath overclouded English skies, may be found our familiar Spanish friends—the Knight of the Rueful Countenance, the Peasant Maid, Sancho Panza and Teresa his spouse, Rozinante (whose sides "stuck out like the corners of a Spanish real") and Dapple, the Priest, the Barber, the Shepherd boy, the Duke and Duchess, and the alluring Shepherdesses of the Wood. The "enchanted bark" here floats upon a shaded English stream; the wild boar roams a British forest; and the famous windmills sweep their arms through English skies.

Like Doctor Syntax, Don Quixote adventures three times into the world of experience, but, in place of seeking his own personal gain, the dear old Spanish knight has won his way into the hearts of succeeding generations through his generous efforts to teach the ridiculousness of sham and the worth of honesty. The most widely known incident in his travels through an unsympathetic world is that which is pictured in the accompanying illustration— "The Attack Upon the Windmills." Here may be seen Don Quixote and his steed Rozinante prone upon the ground, decidedly worsted in their encounter with the supposed giants of the plain. Coming to their rescue is Sancho Panza, his squire, who accompanies his knight and shares many of his experiences. Sancho's mount is a beloved ass named Dapple, who appears in a number of the pictures. But the knight's chosen lady, the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso, for whose favor all is attempted, remains throughout the series of illustrations, as throughout Cervantes' fascinating pages, a creature of the imagination only, a luring phantom to her deluded lover.

The Wilkie Series

The art of the painter as well as that of the caricaturist and of the illustrator contributed to the decoration of early Staffordshire pottery, the work of no less an artist than Sir David Wilkie being put to that humble use, and thereby introduced into American homes. Seven of Wilkie's best known canvases were reproduced in the pot-works of the enterprising James Clews, all in rich deep blue prints of excellent workmanship. The subjects chosen by the potters are the lowly scenes of country life which the "raw, tall, pale, queer Scotchman" originally loved to observe, and which he depicted in the precise and sober manner of Teniers and of Rembrandt, the two artists whom he at first followed. They exhibit the homely pastimes and customs of the friends and neighbors with whom Wilkie passed his early years, and in them one may learn not a little of the popular English tastes of that day. Later on, after he had made London his home, and after his genius, like Goethe's, had ripened under the influence of the life and art of Italy and Spain, the subjects of his brush became broader in scope, and his manner of expression richer and more free.

The painting which is here presented is entitled, "The Escape of the Mouse." In it may be seen an excited family group of humble station in life, in pursuit of the little intruder who has taken refuge under the chair of the young woman at the spinning wheel. She has turned to watch the dog who heads the chase. One brother pokes under the chair with a broom, while another stands laughing at the spectacle. The mother is seen looking in at the partly opened door. "The Escape of the Mouse" was the artist's diploma picture upon his entrance into the Royal Academy in the year 1811, and upon the walls of that Institution it may still be seen.

(From The Blue-China Book by Ada Walker Camehl, 1916.)

Chapter B: Checking List Of American Views Found Upon English Old Pottery

Reprinted from "Anglo-American Pottery" by permission of the author, Dr. Edwin Atlee Barber.

FOLLOWING the titles of the American views in the list below, names or initials frequently appear in brackets. These, sometimes together with the title of the decoration on the face, the collector will find either printed or impressed upon the back of many pieces of Staffordshire pottery; and they are the surest means of identification.

Wood refers to Enoch Wood, who began potting in Burslem in 1783, the firm name being at various times Wood and Caldwell, Enoch Wood & Co., and Enoch Wood & Sons. The great bulk of their output has the name Enoch, or E. Wood & Sons, either impressed or stamped on the back. Sometimes the name is accompanied with a wreath, scroll, or eagle, and the motto, E Pluribus Unum. The most characteristic Wood border on American views is the Sea-Shell Pattern. The scroll-medallion design containing inscriptions, which frames the Landing of the Pilgrims engraving, is also by Wood; and the one composed of a beautiful flower and foliage combination which circles the various views upon Lafayette's estate in France. At a later date, the firm used colors other than deep blue—brown, red, light blue, green, etc.—for American views. They also produced much scenery of countries other than America: England, Italy, Africa, India, etc., as well as a series of Scriptural designs.

The potter A. Stevenson made many beautiful sets, some of his American views being painted from nature by the artist W. G. Wall, whose name frequently appears upon the back. His borders are flower wreaths and scrolls.

Chapter A: The White House Collection of Presidential China

FOREMOST perhaps among the numerous historical attractions which lure the American pilgrim to Washington is the stately old Mansion which, with one exception, has been the home of all the presidents of the United States. And among the mementos of bygone administrations which the White House shelters at the present time, not the least in popular interest is the collection of specimens of porcelain and glassware which from the earliest days of the Republic graced the table of the Chief Executive. Twenty-four groups, of from one to ten pieces in each group, at the present writing make up the exhibit, the President Johnson administration alone being as yet without representation in the collection; while the President Taft and the President Wilson administrations have continued in use the porcelain selected by Mrs. Roosevelt. The collection is a growing one, however, and in time it is hoped that each administration will, through loan or gift, be adequately represented. The articles are arranged in cabinets upon either side of the Lower Corridor of the White House; while accompanying them hang upon the walls the portraits of six of the former Mistresses of the Mansion—Mrs. Van Buren, a daughter-in-law of President Van Buren, Mrs. Tyler, Mrs. Polk, Mrs. Hayes, Mrs. Harrison, and Mrs. Roosevelt, that of the present Mrs. Wilson being soon to be added to the number. Martha Washington's portrait hangs in the Red Room above, near to that of our first president. A plan is now on foot to place the collection of porcelains and glass in one of the rooms adjoining the Lower Corridor where it now is, building for it permanent and commodious wall cabinets, thereby ensuring greater security for the exhibit as well as, for the visitor, a more satisfactory opportunity for observation and study.

Like many another enterprise, the idea of forming a collection of china belonging to past presidents long preceded its actual undertaking. Mrs. Hayes and Mrs. Benjamin Harrison, while presiding over the Mansion, each conceived a plan somewhat similar to the one which later on was inaugurated and carried to nearly its present state of completion by Mrs. Roosevelt—to gather together by means of patriotic loan or gift specimens of presidential china which had come into the possession of descendants of the original owners. For, with the revival of interest in all things pertaining to the past history of our country, upon search it was discovered with surprise and dismay that very little of the older pieces of porcelain remained upon the White House pantry shelves, and that a knowledge of their characteristics was therefore in danger of being entirely lost. The cause of this state of things, by the way, may be directly traced to the time of George Washington, for, when he removed the seat of Government from New York to Philadelphia in 1790, Congress enacted a law whereby "the decayed furnishings of the President's House should be sold for refurnishing the new house in Philadelphia." Thereafter, when the city of Washington became the permanent home of the Government, with each incoming administration Congress voted a sum of money (frequently twenty thousand dollars) for fresh furnishings for the President's House, the amount to be expended under the direction and according to the taste of the new Chief Executive and his family. And any of the old furnishings which they might be pleased to consider "decayed" were promptly sold at public sale—carpets, tables, chairs, windowhangings, beds, linen, tableware, etc., etc. This practice led to greater or less alterations in the character of the interior of the mansion with almost every administration, and twice in its history—under President Monroe, after its partial destruction by the fire of the British soldiers in 1814, and under President Roosevelt, who, in his message to Congress submitting the architects' report, declared that it "had become disfigured by incongruous additions and changes"—the White House interior has undergone complete remodeling and refurnishing. At the present time, restored to the plan of James Hoban, its original architect, and made consistent with modern ideas of sanitation, the home of our presidents is one of appropriate dignity and utility. And, in place of the careless and haphazard manner in which it formerly was looked after by the Government, the White House has been put under the direct supervision of the Bureau of Buildings and Grounds.

The White House collection of presidential china, although far from as complete as it eventually will be, is noteworthy in that perhaps to a greater degree than most other displays of historical relics in this country it bears interesting and intimate witness to the progress, halting and varying as it has been, in luxury and in taste of the American people throughout the century and more of national life. For, unlike the existing specimens of Anglo-American pottery which form the special subject of this volume, and which in early years found a place upon the humble tables of the mass of American citizens, the White House collection almost uniformly presents examples of fine and costly porcelains, the choicest output of French, Dutch, English, and Oriental potteries which was brought overseas to grace the boards of our forefathers of wealth and fashion. Exquisite design, color, and form characterize several of the groups belonging to those administrations which were co-temporary with the vogue of French taste in America, due to the close relations with that country growing out of its attitude toward the American struggle for independence, as, for example, some of the Washington, the Madison, and the Monroe pieces. The Polk china, too, with its dainty bird design, displays the same characteristics; while the Pierce and Lincoln groups attract the eye for the broad bands of rich color and the graceful forms which they display. The showy Hayes and Arthur specimens, challenging the beholder to pause and examine, are a reminder of the current styles of interior decoration which were popular in that flamboyant era we have come to designate as mid-Victorian; the Cleveland and Benjamin Harrison groups, on the other hand, claiming attention for the quiet elegance of their decoration, portraying the prevailing taste of the succeeding decade as well as that of their sponsors. And one will pause, as the writer did, before the Roosevelt exhibit, appreciating how distinctly its simple elegance accords with the recognized trend of to-day's thought. Indeed, so expressive not only of the popular inclination of the moment but also of that patriotic ideal which the America of to-day has developed, is the Roosevelt china, that the suggestion has been offered to perpetuate the design for the official White House table, the Taft and Wilson administrations having already signified their approval by merely supplying breakages from it in place of introducing other styles. A piece of china which belonged with every properly planned set in our early Republican times, and one which a later-day mode seems to have relegated to disuse, is the fruit-compote, a number of examples of which may be seen in the collection. This dish consists of a bowl, sometimes round but more often oblong or diamond-shaped, generally of openwork lattice pattern, and set upon a standard from six to ten inches high. Decorated with the same design as the remainder of the set, the compote is an imposing piece, an excellent specimen being the beautiful one illustrated with the Lincoln china. Another piece, which by the way present day fashion is returning to favor, is the pretty little covered custard-cup, an example of which the Lincoln group likewise presents. Also, a punch bowl, decorated to match the other pieces, was oft-times included in old-time sets of porcelain. The Coat of Arms of the United States has been several times fittingly incorporated in the pattern adopted for state sets, the number of stars it displays equaling the number of states in the Union at the time of printing.

Although George Washington died before the completion of the Executive Mansion, in the erection of which he was deeply interested, the story of presidential china properly begins with mention of the wares once used by him, a small number of pieces of which stand at the head of the White House collection. The years of Washington's life spanned the periods between pewter and porcelain as articles of table use in America, the close of the War of the Revolution rather definitely marking the transition.

Chapter XV: Introduction of New Modes of Travel

THE stories of Colonial America embodied in the decorations of old blue-china conclude with a review of the new modes of travel introduced by our forefathers, for, although theirs was the leisurely day of the stage coach and the sailing vessel, it was their good fortune to witness the dawn of the Age of Steam.

Many persons are familiar with the engraving, frequently found upon old-time parlor walls, of the small boy sitting at a tea-table pressing a spoon over the nose of the kettle and watching the steam lift the lid. The boy was James Watt, who in the year 1774 inaugurated in England trial tests of the strange power he had thus discovered. Half a century later, the people of America were gazing in wonder and awe upon the sight of boats moving up the Hudson River, and of coaches passing over the land, by means of this same magic power.

Success in steam experiment was attained with watervehicles at a period earlier than with coaches operated upon land, the clumsy little vessels pictured upon the dinner plates sailing the American rivers and lakes a number of years before the whistle of primitive locomotives waked the sleeping echoes in our valleys. The last quarter of the eighteenth century, a number of European and American inventors, mindful of the ancient prophecy that "a steam carriage would one day go almost as fast as birds fly," experimented with the newfound power and turned out eccentric vehicles. In the year 1788, John Fitch, a Philadelphia clock maker, launched a steamboat with a row of propelling paddles on either side (the idea of wheels not occurring to him), and with three ranges of chains, suggested by his trade, along the sides. Failure to interest the public in his experiment brought him but the popular verdict, "Poor fellow! What a pity he is crazy." Another Philadelphian, Oliver Evans, fitted a sort of scow with a steam engine, added paddle wheels to the stern and set it on wheels. He ran this contrivance through the streets of Philadelphia out to the Schulykill River, where he launched it and propelled it down the stream and up the Delaware to the city. About the same time, Colonel Stevens and his son were constructing such marvelous engines in their shops in Hoboken that the fame of the family crossed the seas, and a view of the Stevens mansion, which was considered one of the handsomest homes in America, found its way upon English pottery. The illustration portrays a large Colonial house set in a spacious lawn, shaded with tall pine trees.

But it remained for Robert Fulton, with the aid of Chancellor Livingston, to carry to success the experiments of those who had paved the way in steam navigation. Fulton first made trials of steam engines upon the rivers of France, before bringing, in the year 1806, an English engine to New York, where he ordered a hull built for it in the East River shipyards. There the new fangled thing was jeered at and dubbed "Fulton's Folly." And indeed the Clermont, as he named the boat for the country home of Chancellor Livingston, was a novel sight—the engine in plain view of the passengers, the boiler set in masonry and covered with a little house like that on a canal boat, the rudder resembling the rudder of a sailing vessel, and huge uncovered paddle wheels revolving heavily upon either side.

Upon a beautiful Sabbath morning in August in the year 1807, the Clermont made her trial trip up the Hudson River, her decks filled with Fulton's guests. The ride was a thrilling experience, the passengers all the time fearful for their lives, and the inventor by no means certain that his vessel would move in the water. The Clermont started bravely, went a short distance, then stopped. "I told you so," might have been heard among the passengers, but Fulton adjusted the parts and on they went, the machinery groaning and creaking, and the water splashing the deck and mingling with the clouds of cinders from the engine. Soon another trouble presented itself—the captains of sailing vessels, jealous of this new rival in their field, ran into the Clermont and then made the accident appear the fault of the new vessel's clumsiness. The fiery object moving up the river struck such terror to the folk along the bank that some of the more ignorant among them fell upon their knees and prayed to be delivered from the monster, while those less timid long looked upon the power obtained from fire and water as of the Evil One. The vessel reached Albany in safety. "I ran it up in thirty-two hours and down in thirty hours. The power of propelling boats by steam is now fully proved," wrote Fulton to a friend, after the accomplishment of the journey.

Chapter XIV: Opening of the Erie Canal

ALMOST as great in number as the cities which disputed the honor of Homer's birthplace, were the claimants of the original idea of the Erie Canal. George Washington, making a tour of New York State shortly after the close of the Revolutionary War, was perhaps the first one to suggest a waterway as a means of more ready communication between the Eastern States and the vast rich lands of the little known West; but actual work was not begun, however, until many years later, after much heated debate over the subject of routes and the manner of building. Finally, the Erie Canal, as brought to a successful construction through the enterprise of Governor DeWitt Clinton and at the expense of New York State alone, astonished the world, for it was an undertaking of such magnitude that the like of it had hitherto been accomplished only by the greatest empires of the Old World and by means of the labor of slaves.

It is but natural, therefore, that the unique spectacle of the celebration of the opening of the great waterway, upon a stage stretching from Buffalo to New York, before an audience composed of a large part of the population of the State, should appeal to English artists in search of American views, and that their sketches should be used to decorate the pottery of Staffordshire. It is with pride mingled with wonder and no little amusement that one reviews the story of the opening celebration, as it is recorded in the old-china illustrations.

The celebration began at Buffalo, the junction of the canal and Lake Erie, continued at each little hamlet and city along the banks, culminating at last in a blaze of glory and patriotism as the waters from the Great Lakes were mingled with the Atlantic in New York harbor. No resplendent Doge of Venice standing upon the prow of his gayly bedecked Bucentaur and casting the jeweled ring into the waters of the Adriatic, thereby symbolizing the marriage of Venice to the sea, was ever more proud than was Governor Clinton as, standing upon a primitive canal boat draped with the Stars and Stripes, he poured a barrel of Lake Erie water into the Atlantic Ocean, thereby accomplishing the union of our West and East.

The first illustration presents a view of the harbor entrance of the canal at Buffalo, with sail boats in the bay, low warehouses on the dock, and a packet boat upon the canal, which sailors are tying to the warf. The study of this scene kindles one's imagination, and in fancy he hears the pealing of the bells at nine o'clock upon that beautiful morning of October 26, 1825, and he beholds the throngs of people gathering at the Courthouse. After prayer has been offered and speeches have been made, the procession marches to the dock where the flotilla is in waiting, ready to make the long voyage down the canal. With something akin to awe one listens to the sound of that reverberating cannonshot, which, fired at Buffalo and repeated in succession by cannon stationed along the entire length of the canal, proclaims in one hour and twenty minutes to the people of New York City that the little fleet is under way. Four gayly bedecked horses then proudly prance along the tow-path drawing the canal boat Seneca Chief, which bears Governor Clinton and his associates, followed by the canal boats Superior, Commodore Perry, and Buffalo. At the end of the procession is Noah's Ark, from the "unbuilt city of Ararat," having on board a bear, two eagles, two fawns, birds and fish, besides two Indian boys in native costume—all taken along to gratify the curiosity of the effete New Yorkers in regard to the wild West.