A more modern but scarcely less interesting account of Ching–tê Chên and the surrounding country appears in a Consular report, made in 1905, of a Journey in the Interior of Kiangsi,[330] from which I have taken the following paragraphs:

"During the last forty–five years Ching–tê Chên has had time to recover, in a very large measure, from this last calamity, but it is said to be not so busy or so populous as before the T´ai p´ing rebellion.

"Everything in Ching–tê Chên either belongs to, or is altogether subordinate to, the porcelain and earthenware industry. The very houses are for the most part built of fragments of fireclay (called 'lo–p´ing–t´u') that were once part either of old kilns or of the fireclay covers in which porcelain is stacked during firing. The river bank is covered for miles[331] with a deep stratum of broken chinaware and chips of fireclay, and, as far as one could judge, the greater part of the town and several square miles of the surrounding country are built over, or composed of, a similar deposit. A great industry, employing hundreds of thousands of hands, does not remain localised in a single spot for 900 years without giving to that spot a character of its own.

"This is perhaps what struck me most forcibly in Ching–tê Chên—that it is unlike anything else in China. The forms, the colour, the materials used in the buildings, the atmosphere, are somewhat reminiscent of the poorer parts of Manchester, but resemble no other large town that I have ever visited.

"At present there are 104 pottery kilns in the town, of which some thirty or so were actually in work at the time of my visit. The greater part of the kilns only work for a comparatively short season every–summer. During this busy season, when every kiln is perhaps employing an average of 100 to 200 men, the population of Ching–tê Chên rises to about 400,000, but of this nearly, if not quite, half are labourers drawn from a wide area of country, chiefly from the Tuch´ang district, who only come for the season, live in rows of barrack–like sheds, and do not bring their families with them."

It is interesting to compare this modern account with the Memoirs of Chiang,[332] written in the Yüan dynasty, from which we see that the work was carried on in the same intermittent fashion, the potters receiving land to cultivate instead of payment, living round the master of the pottery, and being liable to be summoned to the kilns when required. The opening of the kilns in those days was in some measure dependent on the success of the harvest, and in any case the work depended on the season, as the paste would freeze in winter, and could not be worked.

The hills which surround Ching–tê Chên are rich in the materials required by the potters, china clay and china stone of various qualities, fireclay for the seggars (cases to protect the porcelain in the kiln), or for mixing in the coarser wares, and numerous other minerals. There was water–power which could be used in the mills for crushing and refining the minerals, and abundant wood for firing. Although coal is worked nowadays not many miles away, the potters still adhere to the wood, which has served their kilns from time immemorial. It should be added that at the present day—and no doubt for some time past—the local clays have been supplemented from various districts, supplies coming overland from Chi–mên and by water from greater distances.

A good Chinese map of Ching–tê Chên is given in the T´ao lu (bk. i., fol. 1), and a large map of the district is attached to Mr. W. Clennell's report, which is easily obtainable.

This description of Ching–tê Chên has led us far from the period with which we are at present concerned. In the Sung dynasty the place had already arrived at considerable importance, and the record of its 300 kilns implies a very large population. The excellence of its porcelain had already won for it the onerous privilege of supplying Imperial needs, and, as we have seen, it was consecrated under the new and Imperial name of Ching–tê Chên in the opening years of the eleventh century. The earliest existing record of its productions, the Memoirs of Chiang, written at the beginning of the fourteenth century, tells us that the Sung porcelains made at Ching–tê Chên were pure white[333] and without a flaw, and were carried for sale to all parts under the proud name of "Jao Chou jade." It rivalled the "red porcelain" of Chên–ting Fu and the green of Lung–ch´üan in beauty.