Page TWELVE
THE PILOT—Southern Pines, North Carolina
THURSDAY, MARCH 8^ 1962
'Stir Up The Fire-1'II Tell You The Jugtown Story'
(Written for the student
publication at the School of
Design, N. C. State College,
several years ago. Mr. Faulk,
of Southern Pines, is an archi
tect with Hayes-Howell and
Associates.:}
By JOHN FOSTER FAULK
“She died and they laid her out
in a homemade pine box. Of
course all the clan gathered. A
burying in these backwoods was
a social event. They clustered si
lently around the small Circle of
light from the single kerosene
lamp. Their silence was not from
sorrow; they were trying to think
of a verse to be scratched on her
headstone. It was really a task
because she hadn’t been very
bright and she hadn’t been at all
moral. She had never been known
to put a foot inside the church,
so the usual ‘Asleep in Jesus’
' didn’t seem appropriate. Finally
one of the elders broke the si
lence. ‘Well, she weren’t sech a
bad un, I reck’n she done the best
she knowed how.’ So onto her
headstone, a large jug with a clos
ed top, went this unconscious
tribute, ‘She done the best she
knowed how.’ That’s the epitaph
I want used on my headstone,
you know, I mesin it really is.”
Juliana Busbee was holding
court in her living room. The en
tire room was colored a soft am
ber by the light which filtered
through the bright orange cur
tains.
“They’re quilt linings, you
know, found it at a country store
for a song, told the man he was
selling it too cheap but he insist
ed, and it does seem so indige
nous.”
She sat alone on the sofa by the
window (so that she could see if
anyone came), her hooded falcon
eyes watchful. She was doing
what she liked best now, giving
audience to friends and friends Of
friends, telling us the Jugtown
Story—adding another peg to the
living myth-structure.
She sat there like a portrait of
an ageless Parisienne painted by
Manet. But the background must
have been by an artist of a differ
ent "school. Her studied hand-
loomed clothing was a paradox to
her fragility. Her sophistication
seemed incongruous in this log
cabin room with its pine plank
floor and mud chinked walls. Had
the stage hands put up the wrong
set, an early American cabin in
stead of a sidewalk cafe? The
many tiers of books and the pro
fusion of objects d’art added a
final anachronism to the stage.
“You don’t know the story of
Jugtown? Well, stir up the fire
and I’ll tell it to you. That’s really
a wonderful fireplace, you know,
draws like a charm,'always has.
Mr. Busbee designed it and su
pervised its building himself. He
was an artist but he knew about
many things.”
It was in 1915 that Jacques Bus
bee, a Raleigh artist, and his wife
Juliana Royster Busbee found a
bright orange pottery deep pie-
plate at a country fair. The plate
excited them immensely—not
only by its brilliant color, but also
by its crude artistry. Mr. Busbee
and Juliana were painting por
traits and illustrating at the time
but they were vitally interested
in handicraft.
“You see,” Juliana told us, “we
believed that ‘art is not an esoier-
ic utterance but a democratic ex
pression’ and that from folk art
truly understood and expressed,
fine art springs.”
At that time, Juliana was
Chairman of Art of the State
Federation of Women’s Clubs and
in her programs, instead of stress
ing fine arts she tried to develop
the crafts. When speaking to and
meeting with other club women
about the state, she had an excel
lent opportunity to see what was
being done with crafts. Pottery
making was probably the most
underveloped of all. Mr. Busbee
and Juliana believed that an in
jection of art into the country
pottery would rejuvinate in the
state an age-old industry. Bui
though they tried desperately, no
interest could be aroused in this
moribund craft. No one wanted to
undertake the project, so they de
cided to do it themselves.
In an isolated section of North
Carolina, in a remote spot in
Moore County identified by the
natives as “the dark corner,” they
discovered Jugtown. Although
there was never an actual town,
this area was a center of pottery
making in North Carolina’s pre
prohibition days. There were pe-
haps 50 or 60 potteries in the fif
teen-mile stretch between Rob
bins and Seagrove. '
“Robbins, you know,” Juliana
interposed, “is the town which
used to be Hemp before the name
was changed to-match that of its
new’lord. The argument over
changing the name really tore the
‘own apart. They almost had a
shooting feud, I mean they really
did. Families were all split up,
old friends wouldn’t even speak
to each other when they met on
the street, and at church the Rob
binsites sat on one side and the
Hemp-stprs on the other. They
asked me to attend one of the
meetings at which they were ar
guing over the changing. One of
our prominent legislators was
droning on about why the name
should be changed. ‘After all,” he
said, ‘what’s hemp? Nothing but
rope. Something to make a hang
man’s noose of.’ I just stood right
up and said, ‘I’m shocked to learn
that a man of your very obvious
secondary education doesn’t
know that “Hemp” come from
an old Scottish word meaning
homeplace. Rope, indeed! It
grieves me to hear you air your
ignorance in public.’ But back to
Jugtown.”
When North Carolina voted
prohibition on herself many of
the potter’s wheels were stilled.
Without the jug market there was
little profit, for in ratio to the
dozen churns or crocks, the pot
ter sold a thousand or more jugs.
These craftsmen were forced to
discard the trade of their fore
bears. They broke contact with
the outside world and withdrew
into a cocoon woven of ignorance,
superstition and distrust of out
siders. Had anyone stopped at one
of these potteries then, and asked
for jugtown he would have been
directed vaguely “thataway-
down the road a piece.” No one
would admit openly that his pot
tery was of the Jugtown commu-
AT POTTERY—In this recent photo, Mrs. Juliana Busbee
who died last Friday (see front page story) is pictured at the
Jugtown pottery founded and operated by her and her husband,
the late Jacques Busbee. On either side of the doorway to the
pottery’s chinked log show room, in the background, can be
seen examples of “Jugtown ware.” (V. Nicholson photo)
nity for the term had acquired
connotations of hidden stills and
liquor jugs.
When the Busbees first went to
the “dark corner” in 1917 they
found a community of craftsmen
living independently of the out
side world. The people made their
own furniture, cloth, shoes and
“dirt dishes.” The churns, crocks
and other utilitarian pieces which
to potter turned differed very lit
tle from those of the 1740’s when
the first Staffordshire potters set
tled in this section. The Busbee-
scoured the countryside in search
of pieces which were signed and
dated. Several went back to the
mid-Eighteenth Century. In their
search, they were directed to a
man known as ol’ Joe Shuffle. Im
agine the surprise of finding that
his name was actually Josiah
Wedgewood Sheffield!
From the information gathered
from property sales, land grants
and family Bibles, they were able
to establish the genealogy of the
potters and from the pottery, the
tradition of the locale. Although
much of the pottery was not very
interesting, its forms were much
more subtle and refined than that
in the rest of the state and the
bright orange color was joyous
and different. They heard the
old tales of trips in covered wag
ons to peddle the pottery and to
barter it for things which were
not produced locally. They heard
of the conscription of the potters
during the War Between the
States and how they worked un
der guard to turn medicine jars
for dispensaries, bowls and mugs
for the hospitals, and even tele
graph insulators instead of being
sent to the front to fight. In the
burying grounds they found jug
headstones like the one Juliana
told us about. Of course, these
have all been replaced now by
“store-boughten” granite mark
ers.
lana
When we first came here,” Jul-
continued, “my husband
NOTICE
The Board Of County Commissioners Will Sit As
A Board Of Equalization And Review On Mon
day, March 19,1962, Ten O’Clock, For The Fol
lowing Townships:
Carthage Township
Bensalem Township
Sheffield Township
Ritter Township
Deep River Township
Greenwood Township
Little River Township
This Notice Applies To NEW CONSTRUCTION
And NEW IMPROVEMENTS Listed For The
First Time As Of January 1,1962.
Moore County Tax Supervisor.
Estelle T. Wicker,
‘ M 8-15
thought he could help the potters
not only with his art knowledge,
but also by acljng as a liaison
agent for them through his con
tacts with the outside world. But
they were suspicious of him be
cause he was an outsider and dif-
'erent from themselves. They
were certain that he was a Ger
man, for one man said he “seen
one onct at High Point.” Another
-’eclared he was “one of them
Swedens.” As Juliana quoted the
natives, she lapsed from her nat
ural speech into their vernacular.
‘They would never believe that
we were native born and bred
North Carolinians, and they
never will. Why, we were both
Raleighites and some of my fond
est memories are of my childhood
there. When I was quite small,
my mother gave us children a
subscription to the London Times
and L’lllustration for Christmas,
instead of the usual toys, since
she couldn’t afford both. Al
though I was too small to gather
much from reading them, I think
I got more pleasure from them
than any of the other children
did. I would go to school and
boast, ‘At my house, we take for
eign publications. We read the
London Times to get the real
news, and we only read the News
and Observer for the local hap
penings.’ ” (These same issues
may now be perused in the gar
den house at Jugtown, along with
Punch and Gourmet.)
“Those first years here at Jug
town were pioneer days for us.
But we believed that imagination
is a frontier and that always 1;here
will be pioneers where there are'
courage, strength, and a will to
dare.”
The Busbees had the name
“Jugtown Ware” registered, em
ployed local potters, and launch
ed their new industry. They
changed worlds — completely
Using the pieces of pottery col
lected, Mr. Busbee trained the
potters to reproduce the wares
made by their ancestors. By
changing a curve or line slightly,
he edited what had been purely
functional and often clumsy
wares, making them objects of in
terest and beauty. As soon as the
magazines and newspapers be
gan to give coverage to the Jug
town venture, the old potters and
their progeny became fired with
enthusiasm and potters’ shons
sprang up like mushrooms. Some
of them were supplied with capi
tal and have become handicraft
factories.” Of course, all the pot
ters began to claim that they were
Jugtown. And every potter in the
state swore that his ancestry was
of Staffordshire. One even said
that he was “homed” there. Now,
all along our highways are little
potter shops, the “stop and see it
made” type, where a man makes
his pottery assisted by his wife
and children. Production is inex
pensive because wood is the fuel
used. And .the bright cheap glazes
always attract the tourist trade.
We left the house and went
down to watch Ben Owens throw.
His dexterity in turning on his
primitive kick-wheel never
ceases to amaze. It is really an
experience to watch a pot grow
under his touch. As we watched
Ben, Juliana explained to , us that
they had attempted to keep the
pottery in the tradition of the set
tlement.
“The shop could have been here
for 150 years. Just the other day,
two women came and wanted to
see the ‘pot’ry.’ After oooohing
and aaahing over the ancient
buildings, they asked ‘Could you
tell us about how long these cab
ins have been here?’ ‘I can tell
you exactly,’ I answered. ‘Twen
ty-five years.’ The technique we
use is the same as that of the pre-
Revolutionary potter. We have no
modern short cuts, for we are in
no hurry. It is not how much can
be turned out in a day’s work, but
how beautiful. It sounds imbecilic,
but we don’t even know how
many pieces are in a kiln. All of
the pottery is fired in this old
groundhog kiln—no saggers and
no cones, just an open fire.”
With the encouragement of Tif
fany Studios, the first decorative
pieces were turned at Jugtown.
When they departed from the util
itarian things, Mr. Busbee select
ed for form the early Chinese,
whom he considered to be the Old
Masters of the potter’s wheel. It
is in these translations that Jac
ques’s artistry is especially evi
dent. Every shape has authority.
Although Jacques’s was the hand
that guided the wheel it is to Jul
iana that Jugtown owes its wide
spread popularity, It is she who
has given it its aura of drama, it
is she who has supplied the stage
setting.
“My husband,” Juliana remin
isced, “felt that handicraft should
be lovingly,' sparingly done, and
that it should never be drudgery.
Up until his death in May, 1947,
he worked assiduously trying to
fully understand and express folk
art. When he died he left the uni
versal heritage of his art to his
native state, for he was first and
always a citizen of North Caro
lina.
“Well, that’s about all there is
to the Jugtown story, for you see,
since Mr. Busbee’s death I’ve just
stayed on here, ‘doing the best I
knowed how.’ ”
West Point Graduates
To Dine at Fort Bragg
'The annual Founders Day din
ner for graduates of the United
States‘Military Academy at West
Point will be held Friday, March
23 at 7 p. m. in the Lafayette
Room of the Fort Bragg Officers
Open Mess, according to ,an an
nouncement by Col. Alfred Kirk
du Moulin, chairman of the din
ner committee.
Officers and others desiuing ad
ditional information pertaining
to the dinner may contact either
Lt. Col. T. M. Rienzi at Fort Bragg
Ext. 60100 or Capt. Ellietson B.
Rogers at Fort Bragg Ext. 5-9833.
In the summer, three outdoor
dramas relate different chapters
of history in the mountain and
costal vacationlands. They are
“Unto These Hills’, the Cherokee
drama; “The Lost Colony”, at
Manteo on Roanoke Island, and
“Horn In The West” at Boone in
the Blue Ridge.
Summer theatres of the indoor
variety have spread from the
Piedmont, with summer stock
companies established at Tangle-
wood Park near Winston-Salem,
and at Charlotte, largest city in
North Carolina. The mountain
theatres are at Flat Rock, Black
Mountain and Burnsville.
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Congratulations
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And our best thanks to them
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through
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