By E.J. Swatsell
Throughout history, human existence has been recorded by material culture — the physical objects, spaces, and resources used and left behind. Among items of material culture originating in East Tennessee is a 19th century stoneware variety produced in Greene County. Harmon Pottery is distinctly utilitarian earthenware with identifying markings and kiln scars that, for knowing eyes and ears, carry a story of torn communities and divided loyalties.
The story begins with the struggles that plagued East Tennessee during the antebellum period leading to the Civil War. The region was riddled with tension and division. Communities were torn apart because of differences of opinion and loyalty. The community of Pottertown, Tennessee, west of Greeneville, was largely defined by its prevailing local craft, and a general sense of duty.
Greene County’s “Pottertown” was born in the mid-19th century when a community of potters emerged around the area’s rich clay soil. These potters spun (mostly) stoneware pottery and created a significant enterprise in doing so. Masters of their craft, they developed jars and vessels commonly used in homes throughout the region and beyond. One particularly enterprising entrepreneur was Col. Peter Harmon, who along with his family and employees developed a specific style of utilitarian pottery. The line of useful wares eased the process of food storage and preservation, making household life a little easier. Today, Harmon Pottery holds significant modern value as an antique collectible. It is not uncommon for certain pieces to be valued well into the thousands of dollars.
Handmade pottery naturally relates to artistic endeavors and creative design. Harmon Pottery, however, was designed, manufactured, and distributed as a utilitarian tool with very little attention given to aesthetics. A simple wheel-turned, kiln-fired, and salt-glazed stoneware, examples are often deemed “crocks” by collectors. A correct and more academic term would be “cream pots” or “cream risers,” which measure from 6 to 10 inches in height, with rare outliers either shorter or taller. Although most known Harmon Pottery pieces are common-styled cream pots, there are examples of jugs, canning crocks, stove-pipe forms, chamber pots, and others. These styles are uncommon in research and collection, but they have been legitimized by existing examples. The common stylistic form of Harmon Pottery cream pots has a small taper from top to bottom with a rim shape varying from rounded to flattened. The coloring of Harmon Pottery can differ with firing groups, so it is not uncommon to see examples in varying colorations. The location and acquisition of clay sources determine the colors that range from gray, gray dapple, tan, brown, and a mixture of all.
Harmon Pottery is a valuable addition to any collector’s cache, yet there is a deeper value. It is a physical reminder of the historical events of the time. Holding a piece of Harmon Pottery is like holding a story book about the Civil War struggles of East Tennessee. The area, especially the upper northeastern portion, was a divided region during the war. Some accounts report that most of the region was passive and avoided conflict from either direction. Pottertown, however, was pro-Union and its inhabitants offered no apologies for their convictions. The community included the proprietors of the Harmon Pottery, their fellow tradesmen and their families. Their strong convictions soon became too heavy to bear without action.
On Nov. 9, 1861, at about 1 a.m., more than 50 men, including potters Jacob Harmon, Jr., Henry Harmon, Jacob Hinshaw, John A. Lowe, and Christopher Alexander Haun, burned the Lick Creek Bridge in Western Greene County. The East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad bridge was a Confederate-seized rail-access point for equipment and personnel moving from Kentucky into Knoxville. Lick Creek Bridge was among nine strategic railroad bridges targeted across East Tennessee in a series of guerrilla operations among Southern Unionists. It was one of five successfully destroyed in the clandestine campaign, but with dire consequences. Pottertown’s newly initiated Unionist band was happy to offer assistance with what the men believed was a just cause. The effort was a collaborative military sabotage maneuver to support an intended offensive by U.S. Army Gen. William T. Sherman. The bridge burners performed their duty with the blessing of U.S. Army Maj. Gen. George H. Thomas and a promise of governmental protection for their deeds. The offensive did not materialize, and governmental protection proved false. Many were arrested on suspicion. Some were sent to prisons in the Deep South, and five were executed by hanging. Jacob Harmon, Jr., Henry Harmon, Henry Fry, Jacob Hinshaw, and Christopher A. Haun, all of whom were affiliated with the Harmon Pottery, were executed for war crimes charged by the Confederate States of America.
The actions of the bridge burners were heroic by nature. Willing to face significant risk for a cause they believed was righteous, they not only risked their own safety, but also the livelihoods of their families and community. An enterprise such as Harmon Pottery would have shipped much of their product via rail. The Lick Creek bridge was the very avenue of export for their wares. By burning that bridge and performing these acts of loyalty, they knew full well that their business could be destroyed. Principle and conviction were deemed more valuable than profit.
The Appalachian people are as diverse as the mountains they inhabit, but there has always been a sense of mystery among the hills. The burning of the Lick Creek Bridge continues to inspire stories of mystery, deceit, and espionage within a unique Appalachian community. Pottertown’s Christopher Alexander Haun was a master potter, and also a co-conspirator in the bridge-burning efforts of late 1861. His written correspondence after his arrest offers historical confirmation of the legal and penal proceedings concerning the parties involved.
The letters, mostly to his wife, are well documented and transcribed in Stories from the Civil War: A Sesquicentennial Project By The Greene County, Tennessee, Genealogical Society 2016-2017, Volume III. The editors of this work suggest that Haun was more than a bridge burner and state that he was executed for refusing to tell the whereabouts of the other participants, in essence saving their lives. Although the letters confirm his heroism, they also present a mystery.
The mystery of the designated survivor is established with precedent in the relationship between J.A. Lowe and C.A. Haun. Archaeological digs have offered many examples of sherds from signed Lowe pieces in the waste pit that belonged to Christopher A. Haun. This represents what is believed to be a professional relationship where Lowe was an apprentice under Haun. The relationship appears to have traversed the good times and the bad. Lowe was among the bridge burners on that November night, and he was arrested along with the others. What is interesting, and mysterious, is that he was released when the others were convicted and sentenced to death.
William Brownlow, future Tennessee Governor and United States Senator, was, for other reasons, charged with treason and imprisoned by the confederates at the same time as the bridge burners. He witnessed the events and chronicled them in his diary. Brownlow wrote that the parties sentenced to death were given the option of pledging allegiance to the confederacy as an option for freedom. J.A. Lowe was the only Pottertown potter to accept the offer. Two days after the hanging of his comrades, he officially joined the Army of the Confederate States of America.
On December 10, 1861, Christopher A. Haun wrote some final words of advice to his wife, Elizabeth. “Have Bahanan, Hinshaw or Lowe to pinch off that ware and do the best you can for your support.” Haun was urging his wife to trust Lowe by finishing a run of pottery and selling it on her behalf. At the time of writing this letter, Lowe had most likely already been released having pledged his allegiance to the Confederacy. Haun would have known this. Why would Haun entrust his wife and family’s financial wellbeing to a traitor? Additionally, genealogical research shows that J.A. Lowe immediately moved north, having had only enough time to complete the requests of his friend, C.A. Haun. Why would a Confederate soldier move north? Is it possible that Lowe was chosen from among the ranks as a designated survivor, to accept unwanted terms of release, and to return home to assist in the continuance of a community?
Available sources and clues allow this theory to be both a plausible hypothesis and a significant possibility. Whatever the actual facts, the mystery adds to the allure and collectability of Greene County, Tennessee, pottery that is directly related to the Harmon family operation.
History and mystery are the most significant contributing factors of the modern collectibility of Harmon Pottery. A source of relevant understanding of financial value can be acquired only from studying recent sales. The sales data from both Back Porch Antiques in Greeneville and Case Auctions in Knoxville offer an understanding of value. As the previous owner of Back Porch Antiques, where I sold approximately 100 pieces of Harmon Pottery over a five-year period, I understand and have experienced the collectible demand for Harmon Pottery. The financial records of these sales offer an insight into the collectibility. In 2020, signed Harmon Crocks were selling for about $550. In 2024, the same quality and similar sampling of signed Harmon Crocks would bring an estimated $775 each. One example of a signed Harmon piece sold in late 2023 at Back Porch Antiques for $1,100. The business maintains a long waiting list for potential buyers — mostly area residents — of signed Harmon crocks. The desire to own a piece of celebrated local history is thriving in Greene County.
The history and relevance of Harmon Pottery and its personalities is worthy of an epic Hollywood production. The story is worth telling, but there is a bonus for students of history: the value of material culture. Harmon Pottery, along with its stories of mid-19th-century life in East Tennessee, is still represented by the wares it produced. The history of these local potters and their contribution to society is carried forward within the pottery they crafted — material culture that can be picked up, read, and listened to.
E.J. Swatsell is an academic advisor at Tusculum University. He is a businessman, family farmer, fire department chaplain, and is a graduate of ETSU’s master’s degree program in Appalachian Studies.
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