Glass Table Girls

Glass is a substance in so many ways connected with the conveniences and amenities of our daily life, and the word calls up so many varied associations, that I must here at the very beginning make clear with what a comparatively small proportion of the manifold applications of the substance I have to deal.

In the first place, this is an art history, so that with methods of manufacture and practical uses we are only concerned so far as they may influence or help to explain points of artistic interest. Again, even on the artistic side, it is not with every branch of the varied applications of glass that we shall be occupied in this work. By an anomaly of the English language, whose vocabulary for matters connected with the arts is so strangely deficient, we have come to understand by the term 'glass,' when used without further explanation, what is called in the trade 'hollow ware,' the verrerie of the French; in other words-vessels of glass. The term may also be extended to include various minor applications of the material-beads, small ornaments, etc., what the French call verroterie. But the application of glass to windows, especially when coloured and stained glass is in question, to say nothing of work in mosaic, is usually, although not always, held to lie outside this narrower connotation of the word.

Now it happens that for us this restriction is in every way convenient. For though the material basis is the same, it is evident that both the artist who works in mosaic and the designer of stained windows are concerned, each in his department, with artistic problems only incidentally connected with the material in which they work. In other words, the art element in both these crafts only becomes prominent at a stage when the actual preparation of the glass is completed. It is, however, certainly a pity that there is no English word which would not only clearly connote the class of objects with which I have here to deal, but which would at the same time distinctly comprise nothing beyond.

I have now explained the somewhat restricted and artificial sense of the word glass that I propose to accept in this work. But for a moment let us pass to the other extreme, and going beyond the ordinary connotation of the term include in it the glazes of pottery-the word 'glaze' is in its origin the same as glass-as well as the many forms of enamel. In all these cases we are dealing with substances of similar composition. They may all probably be traced back to a common origin, so that from an evolutionary point of view we have here an instance of the development of the complex and varied from the simple and single. Looking at the question in another way, the art of the enameller, using the term in a restricted sense, may be held to be subsidiary both to that of the potter and of the glass-worker; while many of the problems that arise in treating of the glazes of fictile wares-questions as to fusibility, or as to the colours employed and the changes of these colours during the firing-turn up again in the manufacture of glass. We shall see that experience gained in following the processes of one art may serve to throw light upon the difficulties and problems of the other.

Historically the connection between glass and pottery is not so close. In some degree the prevalence of one art has tended to oust the other, or to relegate it to an inferior position. The Greeks, who carried the potter's art to such perfection, knew little about glass-it was long an exotic substance for them. The Romans, on the other hand, who in the first centuries of our era first fully appreciated and developed the capacities of glass, produced little pottery of artistic interest. In the sixteenth century, in Umbria and Tuscany, where the finest majolica was made, we hear nothing of the manufacture of glass, while on the other hand the fayence of Venice, at this time pre-occupied with her glass, was of subsidiary importance. If we turn to the home of porcelain, in China glass has always held a subordinate position, while in Japan it was until recent days practically unknown.

Were a comparison to be made between the development of the various minor arts, it would be difficult to find a wider contrast than that between the history of porcelain and that of glass. The knowledge of porcelain was confined for nearly a thousand years to China, the country where it was first made, and where it was slowly brought to perfection. Let loose, as it were, in the West early in the eighteenth century, it had then a short period of glory, but before the end of the century the art had already fallen upon evil days. The manufacture of glass, on the other hand, had long been carried on in Egypt, and perhaps in other Eastern lands, by a primitive process, although it only became an article of general use after the discovery of the blowing-iron. When and where this discovery was made we do not know-perhaps somewhere in Syria or Mesopotamia, in the third or second century before Christ. The art of blowing glass was known, no doubt, if not fully developed, at the time when the kingdoms of the Ptolemies and of the Seleucid? fell under the rule of the Romans. By them it was before long brought to perfection and carried into every corner of the West, so that by the second or third century of our era the production of glass in Europe was probably greater than at any subsequent time, at least until quite recent days. Nor was the art of glass-making completely extinguished by 'the advance of the barbarians.' Indeed, some of the Germanic tribes not impossibly brought with them a knowledge of the process not only of preparing but also of blowing glass, picked up on their journeyings through East Europe, or perhaps even learned in Western Asia. This was an instance of the passage to the North and West of the arts of civilisation, by what we may call the back-road of Europe, in opposition to the high-roads that led directly from Italy by way of the Rhone and the Rhine.

But in the West the manufacture, though continuously carried on in many spots, was after the fall of the Western Empire relegated to the woods,-for nearly a thousand years little glass was produced of any artistic interest. Indeed, but few examples of this forest or green glass of the Middle Ages have survived to our time. During all this long interval, in one direction only, in the West, was any advance made. Within this period falls the great development of stained glass: we must turn to the glorious windows of the cathedrals of France and other Western lands, to see what the glass-workers of the time were capable of producing. In the East, on the other hand, in the lands ruled from Constantinople or influenced by Byzantine civilisation, what we know of the glass of the early Middle Ages is almost confined to the mosaic coverings of the walls of the contemporary churches. But just as distinctly as the glass in the windows of the Gothic churches, this mosaic work, for the reason we have already given, falls outside our limits.

It was not till the end of the twelfth century that any important advance was made in our narrower department of 'hollow ware.' Among the many beautiful things made during that glorious season of artistic production that had its start about this time in Egypt (or perhaps, rather, in the lands between the Persian Gulf and the Mediterranean)-except it be the inlaid metal work-there is nothing that now interests us so much as the enamelled glass, the beautiful ware that culminated in the magnificent Cairene mosque lamps of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The art of enamelling on glass passed over to Venice in the fifteenth century, perhaps earlier, and there in the next century the manufacture of the famous cristallo was finally achieved, and complete mastery was obtained in the working of this pure white glass. A fresh start was now given to the industry in the north by means of the Venetian glass-workers, who were sought for in every country to teach their new methods.

In Germany alone did some of the traditions of the old forest-workers of 'green-glass' survive. By the end of the seventeenth century the German glass, in some respects to be regarded as a compromise between the old and new, had become the most important in Europe. For a hundred years the products of 'the mountain fringe of Bohemia' held the premier position, but towards the end of the eighteenth century this place was taken by the facetted flint-glass of England. It is certainly remarkable that it is only of quite recent years that any such prominent position could be claimed for France, which heretofore had been content to follow in the wake first of Venice and then of Germany and of England. At the present day, however, this at least may be said-that France is almost the only country where any really artistic work in glass, apart from the reproduction of old patterns and old methods, is being produced.

This hasty sketch of the history of glass-making will help us to understand why it is that in following the development of the art in so many lands, and for a period of more than three thousand years, there is no need to linger for any time except at a few of the more important étapes. Indeed such a procedure is forced upon us, for much of the road is quite barren, other parts are unexplored, while for whole stages we pass through prosaic districts where we find little of artistic merit to detain us.

The periods, then, of real importance in the history of glass, either from the cultur-historisch or from a purely artistic point of view, are separated by long intervals, during which little of interest was produced. The primitive glass of Egypt, the varied productions of the first centuries of the Roman Empire, the enamelled glass of the Saracens, and the Venetian glass of the Renaissance-this exhausts all that we find either of commanding historic interest or of superlative artistic merit. What follows-the German and the Netherlandish glass of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries-is still of some importance under both these heads. I can hardly say so much of the English glass of the eighteenth century; but this glass must not be neglected-it is English, and it is highly prized by many enthusiastic collectors.

It will be seen that there is a long gap between the first and second of our critical periods-between the beginning of the primitive Egyptian and the earliest Roman glass. This gap will be filled, in some measure, by some account of the rare surviving specimens of glass that can claim an Assyrian origin, of the glass pastes of the Mycen?an age, and of the few examples of glass that can be strictly classed as Greek of the classical age. So again of the second long hiatus-the interval of nearly a thousand years between the period of the Roman glass and that of the Saracens,-this may be partly filled by the few scanty pieces that have come down to us from Sassanian and Byzantine times. To this period belongs also the glass of the Germanic tribes of northern Europe, above all that of our Anglo-Saxon ancestors.

Some notice must also be taken of a few districts situated on bypaths, of the glass from countries that lie away from the main centres of production-these latter centres, I may note, until comparatively recent times are mostly to be found in close connection with the basin of the Mediterranean. To these outlying districts we must finally turn to examine the glass of Persia, of India, and above all the glass of China.

An interesting chapter, nay, a separate work, might be devoted to the classification and history of a class of objects of which the manufacture has been carried on continuously and with few changes from the time of the Middle Empire in Egypt-of beads, I mean, and other allied applications of glass, included in the French term verroterie. But, however great the claims to attention of such objects, their interest is rather arch?ological than artistic, and it will be sufficient to treat of them incidentally along with the, for us, more important class of 'hollow ware' produced with the aid of the glass-blower's tube.

Properties and Composition of Glass

Christopher Merret, our earliest English writer on glass, sets down the properties of the material under twenty-six heads, 'by which we may easily differentiate it from all other bodies.' From these I will select some four or five which will be sufficient for our purpose. Thus, of glass, he says: ''Tis a concrete of salt and sand or stones. 'Tis artificial. It melts in a strong fire. When melted 'tis tenacious and sticks together.... When melted it cleaves to iron, etc. 'Tis ductile whilst red-hot, and fashionable into any form, but not malleable, and it may be blown into a hollowness' (Art of Glass, 1662). Here we have briefly expressed the real differenti? of glass. It is rather by these properties than by any virtue of transparency or of definite chemical composition that glass is to be distinguished from all other bodies; and it is only by duly taking advantage of these properties that the preparation of a vessel of glass is rendered possible.

In passing from a liquid to a solid state there intervenes a viscous stage when the glass may be gathered at the end of an iron rod; the ductile, tenacious mass may now be drawn out into long threads, whose length and fineness are only limited by the difficulty of maintaining the requisite temperature. Again, if the rod upon which the mass is gathered is hollow, the glass may be blown out into a vesicle or bulb, the starting-point from which an endless variety of objects, bottles, cups, tubes, or even flat sheets of glass, may be subsequently formed. Until advantage was taken of this remarkable property of glass-its capability, I mean, of being blown out into a hollow vesicle when in a viscid condition-the art of the glass-maker was in a primitive stage. We may compare the glass prepared without the aid of the blowing-tube-that of the ancient Egyptians, for instance-to the pottery made by hand before the invention of the potter's wheel.

In dealing with the practical side of our subject-the materials from which glass is made, how these materials are first fritted and then fused together, and how the fused mass is subsequently dealt with-the best plan will be to approach the questions in each case from the point of view of the time and country. But as, on the one hand, for classical times, our sources of information for these practical details are but scanty, and as, on the other, I am not concerned with the industrial developments of the nineteenth century, it will be well to postpone any fuller treatment of such matters until I come to speak of the glass of late Medi?val and Renaissance times. I shall then be able to make use of contemporary accounts which will throw light on the processes of manufacture.

A few preliminary notes on the chemical and physical properties of glass may, however, not be out of place.

Glass, Merret tells us, is 'a concrete of salt and sand or stones.' This, in modern scientific language, we should express by saying that it is a combination of silica with an alkali. But these substances alone are not enough. You cannot make a glass fit for practical use from a pure quartz sand with the addition of nothing else than a salt of potash or soda. Such a glass-a simple alkaline silicate-would indeed be transparent, but it would be difficult to work and very fragile. In all cases there is need of a second base, and this, to speak generally, should be either lime or oxide of lead. The latter base we may for the present neglect; speaking generally, it is the presence of lime that gives the working qualities and the requisite toughness. These, then, are the essential materials for the preparation of glass. Other substances may be present; alumina, for example, or one or other of the oxides of iron, but as a rule the presence of these latter bases is not desired-the glass would be better without them.

Putting aside, then, for the present the glass in which lead is a constituent, as well as that in which the soda is replaced by potash, it is remarkable how little difference of composition we find in examples of glass of the most divergent origin. Let us compare the composition of a Roman 'lachrymatory' with that of a piece of modern English plate-glass. In a hundred parts we find-

Silica. Soda. Lime. Iron Oxide. Alumina.

Roman lachrymatory 71·5 16·5 8 1 2

English Plate-glass 72 17 6 2 2

These examples are indeed two extreme terms of a long but continuous series. A sample of Saracenic glass of the fourteenth or of Venetian glass of the sixteenth century, would yield on analysis much the same result.[1]