It’s out with winter blues and in with the blossoming prunus, unless it happens to be English pottery
Lucien de Guise finds out what Coalport brought to the tableware.
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Spare a thought for older tableware. There’s no shortage of it — indeed, of almost anything that might look a bit great-auntyish — in charity shops (if not the municipal recycling centre), with the exception of ceramics that have a vaguely ironic look or are green. Topping the list would be ‘cabbage-ware’ — very green and hyper-ironic, albeit a bit hard to clean. Yet to see a revival is Indian Tree, which, as did much vintage crockery, fell victim to the well-documented absence of dining tables in contemporary Britain and the decline in the habit of taking afternoon tea at home. Not even the name is keeping the wares alive — and it is a misnomer anyway. Made by Coalport China Works in Shropshire, Indian Tree had no real connection with the Asian country, which, when the crockery was first introduced at the start of the 19th century, was more associated with opium than fine dining or tea. The leaves of Camellia sinensis were a heavily taxed luxury that came only from China: it was no coincidence that many of those early wooden tea caddies seen in the butler’s pantries of Country Life homes were equipped with locks.
Instead, the British East India Company was growing fantastic quantities of narcotics in India to trade with China to pay for the insatiable demand for tea at home. (Incidentally, the most expensive teas in the world are still from China, although others are catching up, sometimes with the use of gimmickry: the so-called ‘Yellow Gold Tea Buds’ are sold in Singapore, but are actually grown in China, where they are pur-ported to be harvested with golden sickles.) Thus, how Indian Tree acquired its name remains a mystery. It probably comes down to the Tree of Life designs on chintzes that flooded Britain in the 18th century. Yet, the Indian tree of life is usually a banyan, whereas, when the crockery was first produced by Coalport, it featured the Prunus, or winter-flowering plum, a tree popular with Chinese artists long before it charmed English potters.
Wherever it’s grown, prunus is remarkable for flowering in the coldest months. It’s that quality that endeared it to China’s Nature lovers of old and continues to stir the hearts of Britain’s horticulturists between December and March. For Chinese artists, it is one of the ‘Three Friends of Winter’, together with pine and bamboo, as well as being a harbinger of spring. Because Chinese New Year is always in January or February — this year, it falls on February 17 — the sight of plum blossoms offers hope that winter will eventually be over.
In China, this gave rise to many creative spin-offs, including one that was embraced fanatically by Western collectors in the 19th century: the blue-and-white ginger jar with an image of prunus and cracked ice. These were to be seen in grand British and American homes, usually copying the originals of the Kangxi reign (1661–1722).
Coalport’s Indian Tree offered a far more colourful alternative to the austere, wintry look of those ginger jars. The flowering prunus is not accompanied by the boring old pine, which never flowers. Instead, the wares feature an Anglicised medley of what the Chinese call ‘The Four Gentlemen’: plum, orchid, bamboo and chrysanthemum, representing winter, spring, summer and autumn. Other companies also tried their hand with these Chinese motifs, notably Minton, Spode and Aynsley. Johnson Brothers popularised it so much it inclined towards boarding-house style. Even more than the design, however, it is the colours of Indian Tree that proclaim its Chinese roots. The palette known as famille rose had only been introduced into China in the 17th century, bursting with enamels in pink, white, yellow and green. Rather than the cold staidness of blue-and-white imperial porcelain, as seen in Spode, Meissen and Royal Copenhagen in particular, those Qing-dynasty wares were an unprecedented burst of vitality, however much they—and Indian Tree—may seem fussy and overblown today.
The only time recently that Indian Tree has come out of the closet of twee Victoriana was in Brideshead Revisited; not the fêted 1981 television series, but rather the 2008 film. Lady Marchmain (played by Emma Thompson) brings out the Coalport wares for some brief exposure to the limelight. Sadly, it was an anachronism. Instead of the colourful original, captured on camera was a novelty issue of the 1970s in coral red. These items have become more popular than the 19th-century Indian Tree, despite scalloped rims and generous gilding. Although Lady Marchmain would have been unaware of this, they are ideal for Chinese New Year. Happy Year of the Horse to all lovers of lurid porcelain.
This feature originally appeared in the February 4, 2026, issue of Country Life. Click here for more information on how to subscribe.
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