CHAPTER XX.

OLD POTTERIES AND DECORATED DISHES.

One day, looking through the old corner cupboard, Mary exclaimed, "Aunt Sarah, you certainly possess the finest collection of quaint old china dishes I have ever seen. I just love those small saucers and cups without handles; yes, and you have plates to match decorated with pinkish, lavender peacock feathers, and those dear little cups and saucers, decorated inside with pink and outside with green flowers, are certainly odd; and this queerly-shaped cream jug, sugar bowl and teapot, with pale green figures, and those homely plates, with dabs of bright red and green, they surely must be very old!"

"Yes, dear, they all belonged to either John's mother or mine. All except this one large, blue plate, which is greatly valued by me, as it was given me many years ago by a dear old friend, Mary Butler, a descendant of one of the oldest families in Wyoming Valley, whose, forefathers date back to the time of the 'Wyoming Massacre,' about which so much has been written in song and story.

"The very oddest plates in your collection are those two large earthenware dishes, especially that large circular dish, with sloping sides and flat base, decorated with tulips."

"Yes, Mary, and it is the one I value most highly. It is called sgraffito ware. A tulip decoration surrounds a large red star in the centre of the plate. This belonged to my mother, who said it came from the Headman pottery at Rockhill Township, about the year 1808. I know of only two others in existence at the present time; one is in a museum in the city of Philadelphia and the other one is in the Bucks County Historical Society at Doylestown, Pa. The other earthenware plate you admire, containing marginal inscription in German which when translated is 'This plate is made of earth, when it breaks the potter laughs,' is the very oldest in my collection, the date on it, you see, is 1786. Those curved, shallow earthenware pie plates, or 'Poi Schissel,' as they are frequently called in this part of Bucks County, I value, even if they are quite plain and without decoration, as they were always used by my mother when baking pies, and I never thought pies baked in any other shaped dish tasted equally as good as hers. These pie plates were manufactured at one of the old potteries near her home. All the old potters have passed away, and the buildings have crumbled to the ground. Years ago, your mother and I, when visiting the old farm where the earlier years of our childhood were passed, stopped with one of our old-time friends, who lived directly opposite the old Herstine pottery, which was then in a very dilapidated condition; it had formerly been operated by Cornelius Herstine (we always called him 'Neal' Herstine)."

"Together we crossed the road, forced our way through tangled vines and underbrush, and, peering through windows guiltless of glass, we saw partly-finished work of the old potters crumbling on the ground. The sight was a sad one. We realized the hand of time had crumbled to dust both the potter and his clay. Still nearer my old home was the McEntee pottery. From earliest childhood our families were friends. We all attended the 'Crossroads' School, where years later a more modern brick structure was built, under the hill; not far distant from 'The Narrows' and the 'Ringing Rocks.' Yes, Mary, my memory goes back to the time when the McEntee pottery was a flourishing industry, operated by three brothers, John, Patrick and Michael. When last I visited them but few landmarks remained."

"Was there a pottery on your father's farm, Aunt Sarah?" inquired Mary.

"No. The nearest one was the McEntee pottery, but the grandson of the old man who purchased our old farm at my father's death had a limekiln for the purpose of burning lime, and several miles distant, at the home of my uncle, was found clay suitable for the manufacture of bricks. Only a few years ago this plant was still in operation. My father's farm was situated in the upper part of Bucks County, in what was then known as the Nockamixon Swamp, and at one time there were in that neighborhood no less than seven potteries within two miles of each other."

"Why," exclaimed Mary, "were there so many potteries in that locality?"

"'Twas due, no doubt, to the large deposits of clay found there, well suited to the manufacture of earthenware. The soil is a clayey loam, underlaid with potter's clay. The old German potters, on coming to this country, settled mostly in Eastern Pennsylvania, in the counties of Bucks and Montgomery. The numerous small potteries erected by the early settlers were for the manufacture of earthenware dishes, also pots of graded sizes. These were called nests, and were used principally on the farm for holding milk, cream and apple-butter. Jugs and pie plates were also manufactured. The plates were visually quite plain, but they produced occasionally plates decorated with conventionalized tulips, and some, more elaborate, contained besides figures of animals, birds and flowers. Marginal inscriptions in English and German decorate many of the old plates, from which may be learned many interesting facts concerning the life and habits of the early settlers. I think, judging from the inscriptions I have seen on some old plates, it must have taxed the ingenuity of the old German potters to think up odd, original inscriptions for their plates."

"Aunt Sarah, how was sgraffito ware made? Is it the same as slip-decorated pottery?"

"No, my dear, the two are quite different. The large plate you so greatly admired is called sgraffito or scratched work, sometimes called slip engraving. It usually consists of dark designs on a cream-colored ground. After the plates had been shaped over the mold by the potter, the upper surface was covered by a coating of white slip, and designs were cut through this slip to show the earthenware underneath. This decoration was more commonly used by the old potters than slip decorating, which consisted in mixing white clay and water until the consistency of cream. The liquid clay was then allowed to run slowly through a quill attached to a small cup, over the earthenware (before burning it in a kiln) to produce different designs. The process is similar to that used when icing a cake, when you allow the icing to run slowly from a pastry tube to form fanciful designs. I have watched the old potters at their work many a time when a child. The process employed in the manufacture of earthenware is almost the same today as it was a century ago, but the appliances of the present day workmen are not so primitive as were those of the old German potters. Mary, a new pottery works has been started quite lately in the exact locality where, over one hundred years ago, were situated the Dichl and Headman potteries, where my highly-prized, old sgraffito plate was manufactured. I hear the new pottery has improved machinery for the manufacture of vases, flower pots, tiles, etc. They intend manufacturing principally 'Spanish tiles' from the many acres of fine clay found at that place. The clay, it is said, burns a beautiful dark, creamy red. As you are so much interested in this subject, Mary, we shall visit this new pottery some day in the near future, in company with your Uncle John. It is no great distance from the farm. Quite an interesting story I have heard in connection with a pottery owned by a very worthy Quaker in a near-by town may interest you, as your father was a Philadelphia Quaker and Ralph's parents were Quakers also."

"Yes, indeed, Aunt Sarah! I'd love to hear the story."

"This Quaker sympathized with the colored race, or negroes, in the South. This was, of course, before slavery was abolished. You don't remember that time, Mary, You are too young. It is only history to you, but I lived it, and when the slaves ran away from their owners and came North to Philadelphia they were sent from there, by sympathizers, to this Quaker, who kept an underground station. The slaves were then placed, under his direction, in a high 'pot wagon,' covered with layers or nests of earthenware pots of graduated sizes. I heard the driver of one of these pot wagons remark one time that when going down a steep hill, he put on the brake and always held his breath until the bottom of the hill was reached, fearing the pots might all be broken. The wagon-load containing earthenware and slaves was driven to Stroudsburg, where the pots were delivered to a wholesale customer. Here the runaways were released from their cramped quarters and turned over to sympathizing friends, who assisted them in reaching Canada and safety. I have frequently met the fine-looking, courtly old gentleman who owned the pottery, and old Zacariah Mast, the skilled German potter whom he employed. They were for many years familiar figures in the little Quaker town, not many miles distant. Both passed away many years ago."

Mary, who still continued her explorations of the corner cupboard, exclaimed: "Oh! Aunt Sarah! Here is another odd, old plate, way back on the top shelf, out of sight."

"Yes, dear, that belonged to your Uncle John's mother. It has never been used and was manufactured over one hundred years ago at an old pottery in Bedminister Township, Bucks County. Some of those other quaint, old-fashioned plates also belonged to John's mother. Your Uncle loves old dishes and especially old furniture; he was so anxious to possess his grandfather's old 'Solliday' clock. In the centre of the face of the clock a hand indicated the day of the month and pictures of two large, round moons on the upper part of the clock's face (resembling nothing so much as large, ripe peaches) represented the different phases of the moon. If new moon, or the first or last quarter, it appeared, then disappeared from sight. It was valued highly, being the last clock made by the old clockmaker; but John never came into possession of it, as it was claimed by an elder sister. I value the old clock which stands in the parlor because 'twas my mother's, although it is very plain. This old cherry, corner cupboard was made for my grandmother by her father, a cabinetmaker, as a wedding gift, and was given me by my mother. Did you notice the strong, substantial manner in which it is made? It resembles mission furniture."

"Do tell me, Aunt, what this small iron boat, on the top shelf, was ever used for? It must be of value, else 'twould not occupy a place in the cupboard with all your pretty dishes."

"Yes, dearie, 'twas my grandmother's lamp, called in old times a 'Schmutz Amschel' which, translated, means a grease robin, or bird. I have two of them. I remember seeing my grandmother many a time, when the 'Amschel' was partly filled with melted lard or liquid fat, light a piece of lamp wick hanging over the little pointed end or snout of the lamp. The lamp was usually suspended from a chain fastened to either side. A spike on the chain was stuck into the wall, which was composed of logs. This light, by the way, was not particularly brilliant, even when one sat close beside it, and could not be compared with the gas and electric lights of our present day and generation. That was a very primitive manner of illumination used by our forefathers.

"Mary, did you notice the gayly-decorated, old-fashioned coffee pot and tea caddy in the corner cupboard? They belonged to my grandmother; also that old-fashioned fluid lamp, used before coal-oil or kerosene came into use; and that old, perforated tin lantern also is very ancient.

"Mary, have you ever read the poem, The Potter and the Clay?' No? Then read it to me, dear, I like it well; 'tis a particular favorite of mine, I do not remember by whom it was written."

THE POTTER AND THE CLAY.

(Jeremiah xviii 2-6.)

The potter wrought a work in clay, upon his wheel; He moulded it and fashioned it, and made it feel, In every part, his forming hand, his magic skill, Until it grew in beauty fair beneath his will.

When lo! through some defect, 'twas marred and broken lay, Its fair proportions spoiled, and it but crumbling clay; Oh, wondrous patience, care and love, what did he do? He stooped and gathered up the parts and formed anew.

He might have chosen then a lump of other clay On which to show his skill and care another day, But no; he formed it o'er again, as seemed him good; And who has yet his purpose scanned, his will withstood?

Learn thou from this a parable of God's great grace Toward the house of Israel, His chosen race; He formed them for His praise; they fell and grieved Him sore, But He will yet restore and bless them evermore.

And what He'll do for Israel, He'll do for thee; Oh soul, so marred and spoiled by sin, thou yet shall see That He has power to restore, He will receive, And thou shall know His saving grace, only believe.

Despair not, He will form anew thy scattered life, And gather up the broken parts, make peace from strife; Only submit thou to His will of perfect love, And thou shall see His fair design in Heaven above.