The Message On Dave the Potter’s Storage Jar

When it comes to museums and art, every object holds a story, a narration deeper than what is visible on the surface. In our latest episode of “Why’d They Put That in a Museum,” hosts Beth Bacon and Sarah Lees talk about a stoneware vessel created by the artisan known as Dave the Potter. 

If you saw this jar on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, you might walk right past it. This object stands about two feet by two feet, both high and wide. It’s made of rough hewn stoneware. It’s prototypically jar-shaped: round, symmetrical, a little wider at the shoulders than at the neck and the base. It looks like a jar we’ve all seen a thousand times before. The platonic ideal of an old stoneware jar.  

But if you stop and take a closer look, you might notice something unusual. It has some writing etched into it, below the rim, near the shoulder. What does it say? Who wrote it – and for whom?

Dave the Potter was born in 1801. He  lived in South Carolina. He was held as an enslaved person until the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863. Dave created this particular vessel in 1958, so he was still enslaved when he made it. At the time he was working at the Stony Bluff Stoneware Manufactory, which was a major ceramics production site in the antebellum South. 

What did Dave write on the jar? The inscription speaks about people and animals that we assume are well known to  Dave and familiar faces in his community. The message reads:  

“This jar is to Mr. Segler who keeps the bar in Orangeburg for Mr. Edwards, a gentleman who formerly kept Mr. Thomas Bacon’s horses, April 21st, 1858. When you fill this jar with pork or beef, Scott will be there to get a peace. —Dave.” 

What can we learn from this brief message? A lot more than the  utility of the jar—which was to hold meat, not liquids as someone today might assume. The words connect us to a community and the tone oozes with camaraderie, humor, and the type of inside jokes that are built among friends, colleagues, or maybe very different people who happen to share the same spaces and experiences.

We don’t know much about the real relationships between Mr. Segler, the horse owner Thomas Bacon, and the gentleman, Mr. Edwards. And who is Scott, the man mentioned almost as an afterthought?  Or maybe as a punchline. The tone of the message tells so much. One can imagine interconnected, if not intimate, connections: Segler keeps the bar for Edwards, who kept Bacon’s horses. And we can’t forget Scott, hovering nearby (perpetually, it seems) for a “peace” of meat.

Did Dave spell “piece” incorrectly on purpose? Dictionaries did exist in those days, but we don’t know how often they were consulted by potters in Stone Bluff. If Dave did consciously spell peace with its homophone, this short message takes on even more layered meaning. 

Maybe Scott was a lovable peacemaker, always saying the right thing to quell arguments, keeping testy rivals on an even keel. A perpetually hungry peacemaker, perhaps?  Or was Dave spelling the word “peace” to make a sarcastic jab at old Scott, that mooching hanger-on?

If the message does not fling an insult, it definitely zings and sings. It rhymes a bit, and it flows with a natural cadence. The whole thing seems to be is splashed with the glaze of joviality. One can imagine Dave smiling as he wrote it. 

So what does all this tell us about this 170-ish-year-old storage jar? Is it art? Does it belong in a museum? To me, this jar represents more than its simple physical presence. It pulls stories from the past right into the present. It makes us reckon with and ponder the actual people who made and used this jar. This jar’s creator, Dave, is not just as a potter but a voice, a human, an astute observer of his surroundings. And because the Met Museum displays works like this, we have the chance to connect, if not with Dave himself, then with the concept of sharing human experiences over centuries and across cultures. 

For those who wish to check out this “peace” of history firsthand, please take a trip to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. There’s no substitute for seeing a work of art in person. Until then, keep listening to our podcast for more discussions of all kinds of curiosity-invoking  objects found on display and answers to the question, “Why’d They Put That In A Museum.” 

Oh yes, and please subscribe, share, and send us your thoughts. We love hearing from our listeners. And if you ask us about a specific piece, maybe we’ll do an episode on the very work of art you’ve always wondered about.

Beth Bacon

In addition to being an avid museum-goer, Beth Bacon is an author for young readers. Her books empower today’s kids to learn about themselves and the world through reading. She is also a teacher and branding consultant and a volunteer at the Missouri History Museum. Beth holds an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College of Fine Arts, an MA in Communication Arts from NYU, and a BA in Literature from Harvard University.  

Music Credit

The music you hear in the intro and outro was composed by Edward Whelan. We appreciate his contribution to our podcast.