The Story of Porcelain Part 8

"I suppose not," admitted Theo thoughtfully.

"It certainly is possible such a thing might have happened even so long ago as the time when the Henri Deux ware was made. History offers us no aid in solving the puzzle, so we can only find an answer as best we may. The ware, however, is unique, and there is no mistaking it.

Some of it bears the monogram of King Henry II, and that accounts for the name by which the product pa.s.ses. There are authorities that a.s.sert the H does not stand for the king's name, but for Helene, mistress of the Chateau d'Orion; others declare the king's monogram was used merely to fix the date when the pottery was made. Hence you will find some china collectors calling it Henri Deux ware, and others speaking of it as Faience d'Orion; while still others refer to it as Saint Porchaire. When examining it it is interesting to notice how much finer the later pieces are than the earlier ones. Evidently Bernard, if Bernard it was, improved a great deal with practice."

It was obvious that Mr. Croyden had no more to say about the elusive Bernard, for he came to an abrupt stop.

Theo waited a second, and then remarked suggestively:

"And Palissy?"

"Palissy? Oh, he was another matter altogether. What did you learn about him when you were at school?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," responded Theo with a shrug. "At least I do not remember much of it now. The teacher told us that one day Palissy saw an enameled cup of Saracen workmans.h.i.+p and that he was so anxious to discover how the glaze on it was made that he worked years experimenting; he even chopped up all his furniture as fuel for his furnaces."

"This is quite correct," smiled Mr. Croyden. "I see you recall a good deal. What you have told me are the main facts of the story. Palissy did work fifteen years. He used every splinter of wood he could lay hands on as fuel, and indeed burned up every particle of his household furniture, until he had not a chair to sit upon. He spent every cent he had, too, until he was so poor that he could scarcely feed his family, and owed money to all his neighbors."

"In the end did he find out how to make the enamel?" came breathlessly from Theo.

"No, not that particular kind of enamel the Moors made in Spain. That is the sad part of the story," replied Mr. Croyden. "He did, however, find out by his experimenting how to get marvelous colored enamels of another kind, and this was a very important discovery. He colored his glazes before putting them over the clay, instead of using a white enamel and then painting it as had previously been done everywhere. So you see after all Palissy did a great deal for pottery-making, since up to this time no one had ever thought of coloring the glaze itself. He made many vases, platters, and covered dishes adorned with designs in this colored enamel, often putting on the cover of a dish a fruit or vegetable in relief, tinted in its natural colors. Much of this work now can be seen in the museums of France; but it never became a distinctive type of art. What we chiefly remember of Palissy is his introduction into china-making of these hitherto unknown colored enamels."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BURNED HIS CHAIRS "HE USED EVERY SPLINTER OF WOOD"]

"What became of him?" inquired Theo at last. "Did he ever get any more money?"

"He had a strange life," mused Mr. Croyden. "He was a Huguenot, and at that time the Catholic party was in power, and an edict went forth that all Huguenots should be killed. Many of them fled into other countries and thus escaped death. But Palissy refused to flee, and because he was a man skilled in pottery-making, one of the things France was eager to perfect, the king wanted to retain him in his kingdom. Therefore he took Palissy under his protection, and for a long time allowed him to work unmolested in a little building in the grounds of the Tuileries. But by and by the Catholic adherents of the king became too strong even for their royal master's control, and so insistently did they clamor for Palissy's death that the king was forced to send for the potter and beg him to renounce his Protestant faith. Now by this time Palissy was a white-haired man of eighty. Nevertheless when the king told him he must either recant or lose his life he did not flinch. Fearlessly he clung to his religion."

"Did they kill him?"

"No. Perhaps it was because the people did not dare displease the king," answered Mr. Croyden. "They did, however, imprison the old man in the Bastille and there, after years of confinement, he wasted away and died. It was probably only the influence of his royal patron that prevented him from being murdered in the first place. Both the Henri Deux ware and Palissy's colored enamels brought fame to France. In 1800 at Nevers, where the blue and white ware similar to Delft was made, there were twelve factories. Then there was a quaint pottery made at Beauvais with the coats of arms of France and Brittany upon it. At Rouen, too, an extensive pottery industry sprang up, and it was to these factories that in 1713 Louis XIV, when forced to pay his war debts, sent his silver service to be melted up and replaced by a less expensive earthenware dinner set. Some pieces marked with the fleur-de-lis, and probably remnants of this set, are to be found in French museums. There were various other small potteries in different parts of France: some at Ma.r.s.eilles, others at Moustiers and Nancy.

There were a number in Paris itself. All of these were making a more or less fine variety of earthenware. But the time was not ripe for France's greatest contribution to china-making. Of that you shall hear some other day. Now have I not told you quite a long story?"

"A long one and a very good one," said Theo. "I hope you'll tell me another very soon."

"Will you never have enough of all this chinaware?"

Laughingly Theo shook his head.

"I'd like you to keep right on until----"

"Until you are on your feet again," interrupted Mr. Croyden teasingly. "Then I suppose you will promptly run off and forget all about it."

"Not at all, sir!" contradicted Theo. "I was going to say I wished you would keep on telling me about it until I got well and could go to see some of these potteries and porcelains made."

"Oh-ho! So you want to come to Trenton and steal my business away from me, do you, you young rascal? We'll see about that."

With a broad smile Mr. Croyden rose and shaking his fist playfully at Theo sauntered out the door.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER VI

FROM VASES TO DRAIN-PIPES

During the week that followed neither Dr. Swift nor Mr. Croyden took any more long trips away from the camp. They went, to be sure, on short fis.h.i.+ng excursions, often being absent an entire morning or afternoon; but they pa.s.sed no nights away from Theo. The boy suspected that his father's reason for this decision was because for the last few days try as he would he had been unable to conceal how miserable and uncomfortable he felt. Dr. Swift, however, would not own that this was the cause of his loitering at home. He merely declared that when the near-at-hand sport was so good it was foolish to tramp ten miles to waylay some unwary and distant trout. And indeed this logic appeared to be sound, for not once did the anglers return from one of their brief tours that they did not bring with them baskets well lined with yellow perch, trout, or land-loch salmon.

As a consequence the Doctor managed to keep very close watch of his son, and Theo saw a great deal both of his father and Mr. Croyden.

The friends.h.i.+p of the latter for the sick lad was no empty pose.

He sincerely liked Theo--liked his manliness and his intelligence; his brave attempt at unselfishness; his boyish love of fun.

Mr. Croyden was very fond of boys and, in fact, often betrayed the circ.u.mstance that in reality he himself had never really grown up.

Accordingly he sought Theo out whenever he had leisure, and many a happy hour did the two spend together.

One day when he chanced to be sitting beside the invalid's couch Theo said:

"You told me once that there were three famous potters in history, and that Palissy was one of them; who were the others?"

"If I should tell you their names and nothing more about them it would be only so much dry sawdust," was Mr. Croyden's reply. "The only reason they were great was because of what they did; and that is a long story."

"Too long to tell?"

"Too long to put in a nutsh.e.l.l."

"Wouldn't you have time to tell me some of it now?"

"I might have time to tell you about one of the men, but not both; and even were I to tell you about one of them, in order to make you understand how truly great he was I should have to tell you much that happened before he began his pottery-making," answered Mr. Croyden slowly.

"I shouldn't mind that at all," laughed Theo. "The longer your stories are the better I like them."

Mr. Croyden smiled.

"Suppose, then, we begin," he said, "and I will try before luncheon to introduce you to our second great potter. But before I do this we must go back a little that you may recall exactly where we left off. While Holland was turning out its Delft ware; Italy its glazed terra-cotta; and France its Henri Deux and other enameled earthenwares, in the Low Countries and the German States a new variety of pottery with a coa.r.s.e surface not unlike the porous skin of an orange was being made. This was known as Gres de Flandres, _gres_ meaning earthenware. The unique feature it possessed was not so much its orange-skin surface as the surprising method by which it was glazed. The ware itself was made on a potter's wheel often from the commonplace kinds of clay, such as are employed in making stone china; sometimes this was brown, sometimes gray, sometimes cream-colored. There was nothing original about the material employed. But afterward--then came the amazing thing! When the clay articles were put into the kiln to be fired a quant.i.ty of common salt was thrown in with them and this salt created a vapor which when it settled upon the ware fused with it, giving to the clay a coa.r.s.e, porous-appearing surface."

"How do you suppose anybody ever thought of using salt?" inquired Theo.

"I do not know. Probably the discovery, like so many others, was a mere happen-so. At any rate it was a fortunate happening, for immediately this method of glazing earthenware was carried to England, where Doulton of Lambeth began manufacturing some very beautiful gres. For gres can be of exquisite beauty as well as of most ordinary type. Do not forget that. The term serves to cover those opaque earthenwares which are fired until vitrification or an external gla.s.sing results. At first all styles of gres were called Gres de Flandres, but later the single term gres was given them. You will hardly be surprised when I tell you that those past masters in the art of every kind of pottery-making, the Chinese and j.a.panese, have given us our finest specimens of gres, some of them having designs of imitation jewels upon them; and others decorations of beautifully colored enamels. Next to these Oriental varieties Germany has always excelled in the making of gres. There is a great scope for artistic expression in this ware, a far broader range for merit than in many others."

"So it was this salt glaze that England took up, was it?" ruminated Theo.

"Yes. You see, up to this time very little glazed ware had been made in England, for until the Dutch traders came with their Chinese and Delft wares the English had been cheerfully using, as I told you, unglazed clay, wood, pewter, and on rare occasions silver dishes. Even the ladies of Queen Elizabeth's household felt no shame to eat from wooden dishes. As for knives and forks--n.o.body used those! Every one ate with his fingers. Think how primitive it must have been to go to a banquet of the Lord-Mayor of London arrayed in your silk or velvet costume, and eat roasted ox with your fingers from a trencher, or square slab of wood! Yet such a procedure was considered entirely proper in those days."