William Ferris Cann, my grandfather, wrote about his grandfather, Richard T. Cann, in his book "John Cann of Delaware."  Here is some of what he wrote:

​

My mother [Rebecca Pearce Cann] told me that when his wife died in 1896, she sat with him at the funeral services, and he told her that the first time he saw her (Jeanette) was when his father married her mother (Ann Reed, widow of Benjamin Reed), and he was sent down into Maryland to bring back her children - Amelia, Jeannette and Benjamin Reed. She was thirteen and he was sixteen.

​

Later after his father died in 1834, and the estate was settled, James, the brother of Richard, married Amelia, and took over the "Mansion" farm.  The widow and her children moved across the road into the house, which her husband, William, had just completed building on the farm, which had become her dower.  The house is still standing and has been kept in excellent condition.

​

In 1838 and 1839, Richard was sheriff - whether by election or appointment, I do not know... ...At the at time the sheriff was the Collector of Taxes, who posted a list of the time and places he would "sit" to receive taxes. This particular day he "sat" at the Bear Tavern, and collections were few.  Two strange men, "drummers," stopped by to rest and a few drinks.  They were both sociable and entertaining, and as just sitting with nothing to do is very tiresome, he enjoyed their company and a few drinks. When the business of the day was over he decided to have dinner with, and after a very pleasant meal, they proposed a game of cards. You know the answer. They "took in " all the money that he had collected that day. He always said that the experience was the best and cheapest lesson he ever had.  The amount of money was small but he learned not to drink too much, and never play cards with strangers for money.  I have always heard he was a very temperate drinker, and never played cards. He never learned to smoke. He said he would like to, people seemed to enjoy it so much, but every time he tried it made him sick.

​

At the time Richard Thompson Cann was born, 1816, it was customary for the school-master to live with the families of his pupils, dividing his time proportionately, during the school year. When he was born the school-master was living with William Cann, and the name of the school-master was, Richard Thompson. And that is how the name came into the Cann family, and continued through four generations and six individuals.

I remember my grandfather very well, through the eyes of a boy, he was quite tall, thin and gaunt, actually he missed six feet by only a small fraction of an in ch.  He stood and walked erect in spite of his age.  His hair was long and white, brushed across his head like a cap to cover a skull as bald as an apple or, maybe I should say, as General McArthur's.  the blue gray eyes were set far back in his large well shaped head, with quite dark circles around them.  The nose was as he called it, "distinctive," and, as my mother called it, "Roman," long, large and high, and he wore his gray beard closely clipped.  Of his coat and pants, I remember very little, I am told that they were of good quality, but old style, always rumpled, never pressed, and well worn.  His stiff starched white bosom shirt with studs, and stiff starched detachable cuffs, were covered with a coat, winter and summer.  I never remember seeing him in his shirt sleeves, often in summer he wore, what I believe is called an "alpaca coat" - very light and cool.  A stiff starched straight-up collar with a wide black bow tie, I believe called a "stock", completed his dress, except for shoes, which were soft, smooth, no tips, with elastics in the sides, and no opening in front, called "gaiters."  The hair, the coat, and a cane, which he always carried, were the only vanities of a very unpretentious man.

​

When I was quite small, but large enough to open and close gates, and tie his horse, which was no great problem, and as she was tied with only a very light string, the tying was for the psychological effect, my grandfather would stop in at home for me, and take me with him on his trips around the various farms.  His carriage was an old, what was called a "drop foot" - the foot was low to the ground and easy to get in and out; the color of its paint was something forgotten, and that remaining paint had not been washed since the last rain.  The harness was strengthened here and there by rope yarn strings.  However, neither the carriage nor the man gave the impression of deterioration or decay, both only the wear and tear of a continuing long and useful life, as he drove along the highway, sitting far front on the seat, humming a tuneless tune called, "Joyful sorrow." and keeping time with a switch on the rump of his old mare, who didn't pay as much attention to him as to a fly, which she would occasionally switch at with her tail.

​

Richard Cann was quite successful as a business man.  He always said that he realized early in life that for a dollar a day he could buy a better back than he had for work in the fields, and that his head was worth far more than a dollar a day to him.  However, he must have been a good farm supervisor because immediately after he completed setting up his farm he started buying additional land in increasing amounts as time went on.  I am told that during the war between the states he invested heavily in U.S. Bonds, which were sold at a very large discount.  After the war these bonds were in demand, and sold well above par value, and as the post war depression forced the price of land down, he bought more farms.  For the next forty years agricultural investments paid, not large dividends, but a safe, steady, and reasonable profit.  From that point on until his death in 1907, it was matter of a substantial increase of income over out-go, plus a long life.  The surplus was invested in stocks, bonds, a general store; which was in reality an exchange rather than a store, in which he bought almost anything a farmer had to sell, and in return sold him almost everything he needed.  He would invest in almost any operation that showed the promise of profit.

​

My mother tells the story of one time he drove into the yard, and started complaining that he did not feel good, and that he had so much work to do.  She gave him no sympathy, saying, "You have more money than you will ever need.  You are too old to work so hard.  Why don't you retire, and stop working."  This was not the answer he had expected or wanted.  "I say, I say, Becky, I'll do my share while I am here.  Giddup" to the horse, a cut with the switch, and he was off down the road in a hurry.

​

My mother always said that he was a mild mannered man, even tempered, never excited, and until he became quite deaf, rather talkative, with a good sense of humor.  He loved to get a joke on someone and tease.   He started nearly every comment with, "I say, I say, Bud" or whatever the name happened to be, and often followed with, "Do as you please but mine what I tell you."  He had a limited education, but sufficient for his needs.  At that time only professional men went beyond the grammar school.

Politics, neither local nor national, interested him in the least.  I believe his sympathies were with the south in the war, but that did not keep him from buying Northern bonds.  My father told me that at one time he helped several Confederate soldiers, who had escaped from Fort Delaware in his barn for a few days.  He owned slaves from time to time, whether it was morally right or wrong, I believe, did not concern him in the least.  It was a way of life, and that was that.  He did what he thought was the practical thing, he would buy a slave, credit him each month with the going wage of a free man, and when he had worked out his purchase price, set him free, rent him a small house, and he became more or less a "retainer" of his, available to work for him when needed.  They both knew that if he wanted to [he could] escape into Pennsylvania at any time between sundown and daylight.

​

As I have said before, he was a very unpretentious man.  He had all the money he needed, but his needs and wants were very modest.  He lived well, as well as his friends and neighbors, but without any show.  A cook, and a girl for house work, a bound girl, white, to take care of the children, and a seamstress to make the clothes, with a washerwoman two or three days a week to wash and iron, completed the household staff.  This seems like a large number of servants, but you must remember there was no washing machines, no drip dry shirts, no gas or electric stoves, etc, etc.  A farm was an independent and almost a self supporting unit.  I must say, I have lived at a very interesting time; the ending of an old established way of life, and the beginning of the modern age of gadgets, speed, and Elizabeth Taylors.

​

Richard Cann was the true patriarch of the Cann family; everything revolved around him, and everyone paid him homage, and when he spoke, all listened.  I do not mean that anyone was afraid of him, but everyone out of affection and consideration paid him the respect due him, not only the family but also the countryside.  When he died in 1907, his funeral was most impressive.  The old men of the community were selected as bearers - they were old, most of them had white hair and beards, and had known him all their lives, most of them had either worked for him or been a tenant on one of his farms.  My mother said at the time "there goes the last of a generation and a way of life."

​

My grandfather retained all his faculties until the last - the cause of his death was, he walked out into the garden after a rain and pulled up some weeds, a habit of his, and broke a blood vessel in his stomach.  A specialist was called, who said that he could live if he wanted to, but he called my father and told him "his wife was gone, all his friends were gone, and he guessed he would go too."  He died that night.

​

His most noticeable and annoying weakness was his hearing - almost totally deaf - he did have a trumpet, the hearing-aid of that time, which he would neither carry nor use, even at home.  To improve his sight in order to read the newspaper, comfortably, every year or so he would buy a new pair of "specks."  The best the 5 & 10 cent store produced.