Every Life a Delight¶
Preface¶
From the book: Every Life a Delight by James Henry Potts
Originally published in 1914
Part seven - Personal Reflections, pages 307 to 314 under the heading “My Story”
James Henry Potts (1848-1942) was the son of Philip Potts (1819-1873) who was the youngest son of direct ancestor Jacob Potts Sr. (1761-1838).
My Story
was preceded the following poem in the Book:
None are so great, so strong, so high
That all beneath the vaulted sky
To them by right belongs;
None are so small, so weak, so low
That mildly for an hour or so
They may not sing their songs.
My Story¶
The best part of my life-story is that which precedes it; therefore I will tell it myself.
I know nothing of my ancestors farther back than three generations – my father, and his father, or, as some would speak of the last one, my great grandfather.
Just why it is custom to call fore-parents great and grand is more than I can understand. The only greatness that some men achieve is that they live a long time, and then they are usually anything but grand. No evidence is in my hands that I am descended from any one very great or grand, though I claim as excellent an ancestry as the average man.
I knew my mother for I lived with her for fifteen years before she died. She was lovely to me as indeed, she was to her six other children that I knew, and no doubt was just as lovely to three others that died of scarlet fever before I was born. My mother lived on earth only forty-two years – not long enough to become great or grand, though I submit that any woman who brings ten children into the world and takes good care of them ought to be called great or grand. My mother’s name before father married her was Fannie Ann Buck, a stout good-natured person and a hard worker. She had many fine traits of character and was an exemplary Christian.
My mother’s mother, whom I know, was of German descent, but her husband, Adam Buck, was one-half Irish; therefore my mother was one-fourth Irish, while I can boast that one-eighth of the vital fluid coursing my veins trickled down from the Emerald Isle. However, there isn’t enough Irish about me for one-eighth of the wit I ought to have and have not.
My father was a full-blooded German named Philip. His father bore the name of Jacob, and was the son of Raynard, a stalwart young fellow who came from Germany about the middle of the eighteenth century and settled in Maryland.
Let me tell about him. The stories of brave immigrants are sometimes grand if not great. Raynard Potts had no money in the Fatherland, but he had what was better – courage for any task or sacrifice.
He wanted to come to America, but could not pay his passage. So he sold himself for a period of seven years to earn a ticket across the Atlantic.
HE HAD FALLEN IN LOVE
Before his time was up, he had fallen in love with a girl whom he wished to bring with him as his wife. He accordingly had a period of his servitude extended for three years, or ten in all, in order to reach this land of the free. In due time the couple embarked, both working on board ship without compensation during the entire voyage, that being part of the conditions upon which they obtained tickets.
When they landed at Baltimore the only moveable property they possessed was a pen-knife, which he carried in his vest pocket. Making their way into the forest about twenty miles from Baltimore, they located their claim, and began the work of carving out a home. By day’s work for others he earned a cow and she a feather bed. Thus, little by little, they brought together materials for housekeeping.
Baltimore at that time (probably about 1759 to 1760) could not have contained more than five hundred inhabitants. It had no newspaper and no stage-coach connection with any other city until 1773. Even as late as 1775 it contained only 564 houses and 5,934 inhabitants. The early settlements were chiefly along the rivers and bay.
Paths were blazed through the woods, and as soon as Raynard began to raise produce for the market, he loaded an ox as heavily as the beast could bear and started in the evening on foot, leading the animal and reaching Baltimore about day-break the next morning. Many were the lonely night journeys made by this great grandfather in his wearisome way.
In course of time Raynard became overseer of a large tobacco plantation and in charge of slaves.
Being naturally kind of heart, and remembering his own long period of servitude, he was merciful toward the people in black, looking after their comfort and being careful not to oppress them. The “blacksnake” then in use was an instrument of punishment for which he had no use. The slaves loved him, and would do his bidding without force. This annoyed the owners, though his method accrued to their advantage more than brutality would. Raynard was threatened with dismissal if he showed too much leniency toward the slaves.
One day an old negro complained of weakness and weariness, and the overseer excused him for the day. Out came the owner in a fit of rage and threatened to horse-whip the overseer. “Strike me, if you dare!” was the sharp challenge; “but if you do, every slave will rise against you in mutiny!” Raynard was not struck, but was dismissed, and again had to depend on the labor of his own hands for the necessaries of life.
A family of sons and daughters were now growing up around him, His eldest son, Jacob, was born January 14, 1761, and a younger son John and three daughters came to bless the humble home.
Pioneer life in those days was of the abridged variety. Destitution was known and hard work was necessary to keep soul and body together. Children, like their parents, were inured to toil and deprived of comforts. Next to the big kettle on the long, swinging crane over the huge fireplace, where the plain vegetables and meats were boiled, the article of furniture considered most essential was the spinning wheel for flax and wool, for every family was supposed to be able to manufacture their own dress fabrics. In this regard the pioneer sons and daughters of Maryland were not unlike those of the pilgrims in New England, who were taught to spin flax, dip candles, make soap, and do all the other things which prosperity under difficult conditions required.
When little maidens learned to spin,
There was so much for them to do,
The swift wheels made a merry din
Before the hearth the long day through.
And then, when early evening came,
And ere the twilight prayers were said,
They dipped the candle-wicks whose flame
Should light them to their curtained bed.
In course of time Raynard and the children were pursuing their regular duties as pioneers, the Revolutionary War, with all its excitements and animosities, had come and gone. The eldest son, Jacob, had married and by the year 1780 or 1782 the entire family had determined to leave Maryland and seek a new home in the wilds of Canada. They made the long journey and settled at Lyons Creek, about five miles from Niagara Falls, where they cleared a small farm.
Before the century closed the father, Raynard, sank to his long rest and was buried at Drummondsville. The great grand man had passed through many hardships and merited the reward of the faithful.
SPINNING FLAX
The first meal the family ate in Canada was unique even for pioneers. The last bit of flour had been exhausted, and there were no stores where new supplies could be obtained. A kind neighbor had a small piece of wheat just ripening toward the harvest, and he allowed the suffering family to cut just one sheaf. The wheat was shelled by hand from the heads, the chaff being blown out by the breath, and the kernels were boiled for the repast.
WHERE SURGES ROLL
On the Canada homestead the younger son, John, remained and reared a family. The daughters married, but what their names became, or where they lived and died, are matters to me unknown. Perhaps they became among the great and grand of the world, and then perhaps they didn’t.
The elder son, Jacob, having heard of a region of country known as Long Point, up the shore of Lake Erie, and described as “terrestrial paradise of Canada,” where fine grapes, walnuts and wild apples grew in abundance on native trees and where deer roamed the forests in vast herds, he resolved to move thither with his family. At the old home at Lyons Creek good drinking water had been scarce, but at the famed paradise, one hundred miles away, pure water was said to bubble up in perennial springs, rolling off in rabid rivulets and streams toward the great lake.
In the year 1800 the new pilgrimage was undertaken. Rude paddle boats had been constructed, and Jacob and his family, with a few others, started along the lake shore, keeping close to land and rowing all the way. At night the men would carry the women and children from boat to shore, kindle a fire, prepare a meal, and sleep on the ground until morning. What livestock they had was driven along the shore. How long they were in completing the journey is not recorded, but they finally reached the goal of their hopes and found Nature’s realities fully as bright and rich as had been pictured. Few white settlers had preceded them. The first pioneer’s cabin had stood but eight years. The Indians, however, were plentiful and peacefully inclined.
Jacob had brought with him a certificate of his good character from the captain of the militia at Niagara Falls which, though it did not make him great or grand, shows that he had friends. It reads:
I do certify that the bearer, Jacob Potts, belonging to my Company of the Third Regiment Militia of the County of Lincoln, has always behaved himself and been very attentive to his duty since I had the honor to command the Company.
Thomas Cummings, Captain
To whom it may concern.
Chippawa, 15thMarch, 1800.
Jacob became quite conspicuous among his pioneer neighbors. He had purchased two hundred acres of land, paying cash, as the receipt shows, and had proceeded to erect the largest barn in the whole region. The building, though constructed of logs, was fifty feet long and every settler within fifteen miles around was summoned to help raise it up. The common remark was that the farm would never yield enough grain and produce to fill it. Good use, however, was made of the structure. Public worship was often held in it, and tradition says that the famed Nathan Bangs delivered in it his first sermon in Canada.
Jacob was thrice married, first in Maryland, where Susannah, his wife, bore him four sons and two daughters, all of whom came with him up Lake Erie’s shore. By his second wife he had no issue. By his third wife, he had one daughter and two sons, his youngest child, Philip, being my father.
Jacob lived until January 27, 1838 and was buried in the original cemetery of his township. His modest tombstone bears the epitaph:
“He lived and died a Christian.”
My father, Philip, first saw the light April 10, 1819, and was twenty-nine years old when, on June 12, 1848, he kissed my mother and first took me into his arms, his second living son. The sun did not stand still when I was born, nor was the son still-born. I was told that after I began to kick around, that I had been “a fine, strong baby, good-natured, and a rapid grower.”
Further this deponent sayeth not.
James Henry Potts¶
Born: June 12, 1848
Died: March 11, 1942 (aged 93)
Potts, James Henry was born on June 12, 1848 in Woodhouse, Norfolk, Ontario. Son of Philip and Frances A. (Buck) Potts.
Education: Graduate Mayhew Business College, Albion, Michigan, 1866. Honorary Master of Arts, Northwestern University, 1882. Doctor of Divinity, Albion College, 1885, Doctor of Laws, 1910.
Career: Taught school, 1866-1869. Entered Mechanical Engineering ministry, 1869. Associate editor, 1877-1885, editor, 1885-1917, Michigan Christian Advocate.
Delaware to General Conference, 1888, 92, 96, 1900, 04. Fraternal delegate General Conference Methodist Church of Canada, 1894, Ecumenical Methodist Conference, Toronto, 1911.
Membership: Served in 6th Michigan Cavalry, 1865-1866.
Connections: Married Alonsa C. Cole, September 8, 1869 (died February 8, 1922). Children: James Riston, Oscar Ferdinand (deceased), Florence Alonsa, Alice Elna.
Author:
Pastor and People, 1879. Golden Dawn, 1880
Spiritual Life, 1884. Our Thrones and Crowns, 1885.
Perrine’s Principles of Church Government, 1887. Faith Made Easy, 1888. The Lord’s Day Our Sabbath, 1890.
Living Thoughts of John Wesley, 1891. Back to Oxford, 1903. The Upward Leading, 1905.
Sunshine All the Year, 1907. Black and White, 1908. My Gift to Thee, 1910.
Every Life a Delight, 1914. Songs of Character, 1923. Life, Faith and Home, 1923.
All Things New, 1937.