CHAPTER XI
OUR ENGLISH COUSINS
All too soon the time came when grips had to be packed, tackle stowed away, and the campers start out over the carry to meet the train that was to take them to New York. The trip was a long and tedious one of two days' duration. Nevertheless our travelers did not find it wearisome. On the train were papers and magazines in plenty, and whenever Dr. Swift went into the smoking car Theo always found Mr. Croyden near at hand and willing to talk.
"And when Mr. Croyden is around no place could be dull or stupid," affirmed Theo to his father.
"I believe I shall begin to be jealous of Mr. Croyden, Theo," laughed Dr. Swift good-naturedly. "I am coming to fear that if you go to visit him as he wants you to, you never will come back home."
Theo smiled.
"You can't lose me so easily, Dad," he answered. "Just the same, I know if I do go and visit the Croydens I'll have a bully time. But I'd like to wait until I get rid of these crutches so I won't be a bother to anybody."
"That is wise. I should not feel easy if you started out on a visit before you were quite well," replied Dr. Swift. "However, it won't be long now before you can cast your crutches into the rubbish heap. In the meantime your own family can have a visit with you. I rather fancy your mother will be thankful to have you home again; she has been pretty anxious about you. No mother likes having her boy where she cannot get to him when he is ill."
"But you were there, Dad."
Dr. Swift smiled into the eyes that met his.
"Yes, I was there, to be sure," he assented. "But a doctor is not necessarily a good nurse."
"I don't see how anybody could be a better nurse than you, Father."
The Doctor shook his head.
"I'm afraid I did not fuss much over you," he answered. "At least I did not smother you with attention the way your mother would have done. You got no spoiling from me. I expect, though, that when your mother gets hold of you she won't be able to do enough for you. I can see her to-day flying round the house ordering all the things you like to eat, and getting everything ready for your coming. I shall have no attention at all."
Theo beamed.
"You will have all the attention you want, and more too, Dad, I guess," he remarked drily. "Probably a string of patients as long as this car will be waiting to pounce on you the minute you set foot in New York."
"I expect so, son. However, I shall not begrudge that sort of a welcome now, for I feel like a fighting cock.
"You really are rested, aren't you, Father?"
"I am like another man," was the vehement reply. "I was about all in when we went into camp. Thanks to you and Mr. Croyden I have had a fine chance to pull myself together and prepare for whatever comes next. You have been very thoughtful and unselfish, Theo, in leaving me free to get all I could out of my vacation. It has meant everything."
"I wanted to help you, Dad."
"You've certainly proved that, my boy. I've appreciated every bit of it."
A quick glance passed between the two.
They understood each other very well, Theo and his father.
"Here is Mr. Croyden," observed Theo. "He has been getting off some mail and telegrams."
"That is precisely what I must do," declared the Doctor rising. "I'll leave you to have one of your china-making talks while I am gone."
As the Doctor passed through into the next car Mr. Croyden sauntered down the aisle and dropped into the seat he had just vacated.
"There," announced the merchant with a satisfied sigh, "I have done my duty. I have sent off three telegrams and a lot of letters. How funny it seems to get busy after being so idle! Next week will see us all back at the grind, I suppose, and rushing about as if we had never been away."
"Are you sorry?"
"No," was the hearty response. "I like to play when I play; but I like also to work. I enjoy my business very much. It is an interesting and useful one, and I like to think that in my small way I am helping to furnish the world with things that are necessary, and tend toward comfort and convenience as well as toward beauty. People cannot get on without dishes—you and I have proved that."
"Not unless we all go back to being savages," said Theo humorously.
"We shall not do that, I hope," returned Mr. Croyden gravely. "Each century should see the race farther ahead—a more honest, kindlier, Christian nation. That is the motto we must bring with us out of this war. Not more territory, more money, more power; but truer manhood and purer souls. If the conflict does this for our people all the sacrifice and loss of life it has meant will not have been in vain. Out of the wreck a better America should arise, and we each must help it to arise—you as well as I, for we need not only good men and women but good boys and girls, if we are to have a fine country."
"A boy can't do much toward it, I'm afraid," Theo said.
"On the contrary, a boy can do a great deal," replied Mr. Croyden. "It is the boys of to-day who are going to be the men of to-morrow; and there is no such thing as suddenly becoming a good man, any more than there is such a thing as a seed suddenly becoming a full-blown plant. Everything has to grow, and grow slowly, too. So if you wish to be a wise, honest citizen who will help forward this glorious country we all love so much, you want to be setting about it right now, you and every other boy. And you want to go at the work earnestly, too, for you will be a man before you know it.
"It looks a long way off to me now," mused Theo.
"Such things always do; but time flies pretty fast. You will find yourself in college the next thing you know; and after that you will be beginning to plan your career. What are you going to be, Theo?"
"I don't know, sir," was the uncertain answer. "I'd just like to do something that really needs to be done; something that people cannot get on without."
"That is a splendid ambition," came heartily from Mr. Croyden. "I thought perhaps you'd be thinking of taking up your father's job."
"I be a surgeon!" gasped Theo.
"Why not?"
"Oh, because I'd be no good at it," the boy said. "I should never know what to do with sick people. I'd be scared to death. It seems to me now that I would rather go into making something; but I do not just know what."
"You want to be a business man, eh?"
"Humph!"
There was an interval of silence; then Mr. Croyden said:
"Well, if when you are through your education, Theo, we are out of this war and you are still of the same mind, you come to me. Who knows but you might end your days in my factories?"
The boy's eyes sparkled.
"Croyden and Swift—how would that sound?"
"It would sound all right," chuckled Theo, "but I am afraid the sound would be the best part of it. Why, I'd never be able to learn all you know about china if I lived to be a hundred years old."
"Aren't you learning things about china right now? Haven't you already learned about the pottery and porcelain of almost every nation under the sun?"
"I have liked to have you tell me about it," replied Theo modestly.
"Well, isn't that making a beginning?" queried the pottery merchant. "We have discussed the china output of almost every country, haven't we?"
"All the big countries except England."
"How did we happen to leave England out?"
"I guess you did not have time to get round to England," answered Theo. "Still all the time isn't gone yet, you know; you might tell me about England now."
They both laughed.
"I believe you are something of a diplomat, Theo," observed Mr. Croyden. "You are either a diplomat or you are a schemer. Sometimes it is very hard to tell the one from the other. In either case you seem determined to give me no peace, so I fancy I may as well tell you about English porcelain and have done with it. If I do not do it now I shall have to do it some other time, I suppose."
"I suppose you will," came delightedly from Theo.
"Well, here goes, then!"
The elder man settled back into a comfortable position and Theo wriggled contentedly into the opposite corner of the seat.
"As you can well understand," began Mr. Croyden, "the discovery of kaolin set England as eagerly to experimenting at porcelain-making as it had the other nations. Contrary, however, to other countries the English Government lent no helping hand to the industry, offering neither money nor inducements to those who would take it up. Therefore only those persons who were sufficiently interested in the new venture, and could afford to make the attempt with their own capital, dared go into it. Fortunately there were at hand some of these ambitious manufacturers. Their early experiences are interesting not so much because of the quality of their work though much of it was good, as because they were the forerunners of later workers. The paste they used was not as fine as that of the Chinese or Japanese; or in fact, that of the early Dresden or Sèvres ware. Gradually, however, it became better, until now—although England turns out almost no true porcelain, that is, the scientifically blended kaolin and petuntse clays—she makes some of the most beautiful and durable china manufactured anywhere.
"What is it made of?" inquired Theo, much puzzled.
"Different combinations of kaolin clays and phosphates; a ware which in the porcelain trade is known as bone china," replied Mr. Croyden. "The phosphate of lime that is mixed with the kaolin renders the body of the ware more porous and elastic. On such china the glaze does not blend with the body and become an actual part of it as is the case with a true porcelain, but on the contrary is an outer coating which can be scratched through. But bone china is very strong, and does not chip as does a more brittle variety. For that reason where wear and durability are desired it is often preferred."
Mr. Croyden stopped a second.
"When I tell you these facts you must not think I am crying down the English wares," he said. "I could show you beautiful varieties of English porcelain. I merely wish you to understand that it has not the qualities of the Chinese, Japanese, Sèvres, Dresden, or even the more modern Limoges ware. But what it loses in delicacy and translucence it makes up in strength, and perhaps after all strength is as desirable as any other quality."
"Didn't the English ever make any real hard paste china?" asked Theo.
"It is said that between 1730 and 1744 they did make some; and this product is supposed to be the only true porcelain ever made in England. It was manufactured at Stratford-le-Bow, and where do you think the clay for it came from? Strangely enough from our own State of Virginia. You can imagine the expense of bringing the clay across the Atlantic. This ware known for convenience as Bow became very popular. The first of it was hand-painted, but later the designs were transferred, and the product became cheaper. Not only were tea sets made, but also a great number of china figures of birds, animals, and shepherdesses; there were even some statuettes of celebrities of the time, which remain as an interesting record of the costumes of the period. Owing to the fact that much of the Bow china was unmarked it is frequently confused with the soft ware made at Chelsea, which was also of early English manufacture."
"Did the Bow factories continue?" asked Theo.
"About 1775 the Bow works were merged with those of Derby; and in 1784, the Chelsea fabrique was also absorbed by the Derby company. Derby china, especially Crown Derby, you must remember, is one of the finest of present day English wares. About 1777 these factories came under the patronage of King George III, at which time the term Crown Derby was bestowed on the product."
"Then an English king did help in English porcelain-making after all!" exclaimed Theo.
"To a certain extent, yes," answered Mr. Croyden. "The English nobility, too, patronized the royal factories. The ware was so beautiful perhaps people were only too glad to do so. There were plates with deep borders of solid rich color, frequently adorned with heavy gold work; and there were vases, pitchers, and bowls of magnificent hue. In fact, the use of blue and gold was brought to a greater perfection in this ware than ever before, and it established for the makers a wide-reaching reputation. Possibly this reputation might have remained preëminent had not the short-sighted manufacturers begun to sell at a lower rate their imperfect pieces, or seconds. Great quantities of these flooded the market and immediately the fame of the ware decreased."
"What a pity!"
"Since then this erroneous policy has been corrected in so far as has been possible; but the blot on the history of the Derby porcelain remains, proving that a firm that values its standing should never allow imperfect products to go beyond its doors. William Cookworthy, who, by the way, made the Bow china and who lived at Plymouth, England, in 1760, finally discovered deposits of true kaolin at Cornwall, and of this material made some more true porcelain; but unfortunately much of it was injured in the firing. His workmen did not understand the difficulties and dangers of exposing the ware to the extreme heat. But this Plymouth ware held an interesting place in the development of English china-making.
"Did the Plymouth works grow and become larger?" asked Theo.
"Alas, much beautiful porcelain, copied to a great extent from Chinese and Continental wares, was made there, but the expense of turning it out was so great that poor Cookworthy sunk a fortune in the enterprise. However, the venture was not without its fruits, for out of the Plymouth fabrique developed that of Bristol, and later that of Shelton, or New Hall. All of these plants manufactured hard paste chinas. At Bristol in 1774 a wonderfully fine tea and coffee set was made for Edmund Burke, the renowned English orator. In the meantime all over England small fabriques were springing up. At Pinxton, Swansea, Coalport, Liverpool and Rockingham; most of these factories made soft paste chinas. Then came an innovation. One of the most perfect of English porcelains, known as Spode, was produced by combining with this type of paste pulverized bones."
"Bones!"
"Yes. It seems a strange idea, doesn't it? But it was a great discovery, and one that has been generally adopted and used ever since by the principal china-making firms of England. The bone element, or phosphate of lime, as it is more properly termed, imparts both strength and elasticity to the china. Minton ware, first made in 1791 and now extensively manufactured in England and sold throughout the china-buying world, is one of these bone chinas. It is a great favorite because of its durability as well as its beauty. There were in addition many other very fine chinas made in England—far too many of them for me to enumerate. One was the Lowestoft, made from about 1756 in soft paste, and in 1775 in hard. Much of it is in imitation of the Chinese, although some was decorated with roses, and some with landscapes or coats of arms. As it had no mark upon it it is now difficult to be sure of the genuine ware. Moreover, a large amount of the white porcelain, it is said, was sent from China to Lowestoft to be decorated, and therefore the body of it is of Oriental and not English make. Worcester is another of the celebrated soft paste chinas, which at first copied Oriental designs, and later branched off into imitations of Dresden or Sèvres wares. It is still made and widely sold."
"It seems as if a great many of the English wares were copies of somebody else's work," remarked Theo.
"I am afraid they were," owned Mr. Croyden. "England was not rich in originality of design. The work of Wedgwood is the only distinctively inventive contribution made to the china-making art. However, the English bone porcelains are very beautiful, and though they are not genuine feldspathic products they are highly esteemed and in demand everywhere. Now you must own, Theo, that I have given you a pretty complete outline of the pottery and porcelain-making of the European countries. Holland and Belgium, as I have told you, lack both clay and fuel and therefore had not a fair chance to compete with the other nations; but they did make some little porcelain. Sweden also turned out a little. Denmark gave a real contribution to the world in its Copenhagen ware, a type of white porcelain decorated beneath the glaze in cobalt. The fabrique for making this china was opened as early as 1760 but it never paid, and in 1775 the Government took over the works and it became a royal factory where women of rank and position joined the artists in designing and decorating the porcelain. The undertaking, however, proved so expensive that in 1876 the factories went back into private hands. But the porcelain has become world-famous and holds its place in the list of the distinctive chinas of the art universe. Look up Royal Copenhagen some time, and see how beautiful it is."
"I will," nodded Theo. "But in all this china-making did Russia do nothing?"
"Russia made her try," Mr. Croyden said. "Peter the Great was an ambitious ruler who traveled the Continent over to see what other countries were doing in the way of commerce and manufacture. When he returned from one of his pilgrimages he made the people build a new commercial and industrial centre—St. Petersburg, now Petrograd. Here he set his subjects to making all sorts of artistic things such as he had seen in Europe, especially brass, copper, and silver articles. From 1744 to 1765 under the Empresses Elizabeth and Catherine II a little really fine hard paste was produced. It was a porcelain in imitation of Dresden; but there never was very much of it manufactured. A little Russian porcelain was also made at Moscow and Poland. The Russians never excelled in pottery and porcelain-making, however, as they did in metal work."
Mr. Croyden rose.
"See," he said, "here comes your father! That means that we must bid good-bye to china-making for to-day. I fear we shall have to say good-bye to it altogether, too, for by to-morrow morning we shall be getting into New York and separating for home. But you are not to forget, Theo, that I want you to come to Trenton the first minute you are rid of these crutches. Then I shall tramp you through my factories and you shall see how all this porcelain we have talked of is made."
"I shall be mighty glad to come," responded Theo.
"I must leave it to your father's discretion, then, to notify me when he thinks you are able to make the visit," added the merchant, turning to Dr. Swift who had just joined them. "You just telephone me, Doctor, when you think you can spare this boy of yours; will you?"
"You are very kind, Croyden."
"Not a bit! Not a bit!" protested Mr. Croyden. "I shall want to see Theo, and I am anxious to have Mrs. Croyden meet him too. I only wish we had a boy just like him; then I'd have somebody to leave my business to."
He drummed on the window moodily.
"Who knows but I may be coming to help you make china one of these days, sir," suggested Theo half jokingly.
The man wheeled sharply.
"I wish I thought you would," was his quick response. "If at the end of your college career you find yourself with any such notion, sonny, you'll be very welcome."
With an affectionate glance at the boy Mr. Croyden strode off into the smoking-car.
