Chapter VI: Part 6

One morning not long after his return from Europe he was passing, as usual, his leisure hours at the mountain farm. While overlooking his workmen he espied a small skiff leaving an opposite shore-point of the lake and making directly for his own landing. Mr. Cooper thought the boatman was on an errand to himself. Presently the stranger, tin pail in hand, made his appearance and inquired of Cooper and his men whether a large swarm of bees had been seen "somewhere there-abouts." He had lost a fine swarm early in the morning several days before, and had since looked in vain for them; but "a near-by farmer's wife had seen them cross the lake that way." No bees had been seen by the men of Châlet. One of them said, however, "bees had been very plenty about the blossoms for a day or two." The farmer began to look about closely, and from the unusual number of bees coming and going among the flowers on the hill, he felt sure his honeybees were lodged somewhere near. So, with Mr. Cooper, much interested, the search for the lost swarm began. A young grove skirted the cliffs; above were scattered some full, tall, forest trees,--here and there one charred and lifeless. The farmer seemed very knowing as to bees, and boasted of having one of the largest bee-sheds in the county. Rustic jokes at his expense were made by the workmen. They asked him which of the great tall trees his bees had chosen; they wished to know, for they would like to see him climb it, as Mr. Cooper had said that no axe should fell his forest favorites. The farmer nodded his head and replied that there was no climbing nor chopping for him that day--the weather was too warm; that he intended to call his bees down--that was his fashion. Taking up his pail he began moving among the flowers, and soon found a honey-bee sipping from the cup of a rose-raspberry. He said he knew at once the face of his own bee, "to say nothin' of the critter's talk"--meaning its buzzing of wings. A glass with honey from the tin pail soon captured the bee: uneasy at first, it was soon sipping the sweets. When quite satisfied it was set free, and its flight closely followed by the farmer's eye. Another bee was found on a head of golden-rod; it was served the same way but set free at an opposite point from the first's release; this second flight was also closely noted. Some twelve of the tiny creatures from the clover and daisies were likewise treated, until the general direction of the flight of all was sure. This "hiving the bees" by the air-line they naturally took to their new home proved the farmer to be right, for an old, half-charred oak-stub, some forty feet high and "one limb aloft was their lighting-place, and there they were buzzing about the old blighted bough." The farmer then went to his boat and brought back a new hive and placed it not far from the old oak; he put honey about its tiny doorway and strewed many flowers around it. With the sunset his bees had taken possession of their new home, and by moonlight they were rowed across the lake and placed beside the mother-swarm in the farmer's garden.

The author placed this incident in the "Prairie Round" of "The Oak Openings." Its Indian Peter shows how Christian influences in time triumph over revenge--the deadliest passion of the red-man's heart. On New Year's Day, 1848, "The Oak Openings" was begun, and the following spring saw it finished. This note appears in the author's diary: "Saturday, January 1, 1848. Read St. John. No church. Weather very mild, though snow fell in the night. Walking very bad, and I paid no visits outside of the family. Had ---- at dinner. A merry evening with the young people. Played chess with my wife. Wrote a little in 'Oak Openings' to begin the year with."

Cooper was a born story-teller, and with a born sailor's love of salt water could not for long keep from spinning tales of the sea. All of which accounts for spirited and original "Jack Tier," which came from his pen in 1848. The story was called at first "Rose Budd"--the name of the young creature who is one of its important characters. But plain, homely, hard-working "Jack," under a sailor's garb, following her commonplace, grasping husband the world over, and finding herself in woman's gear and grief by his side when he made his last voyage of all without her--it is she who had _earned_ the real heroine's right to the name "Jack Tier." It is a story of the treacherous reefs off Florida and the deep waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

All those quiet years in Cooperstown the author kept pace in mind and interest with the times, and often gave expression to his opinion on current events. Of General Scott in Mexico he wrote, February 1, 1848: "Has not Scott achieved marvels! The gun-thunders in the valley of the Aztecs were heard in echoes across the Atlantic." Years before this the last chapter of "The Spy" paid tribute to the "bravery of Scott's gallant brigade" in 1814, at Lundy's Lane, not far from Niagara. That Cooper strongly condemned Scott's "General Order" is another record of later years.

Reform--along all lines of service--was Cooper's watchword; his home-cry, first and last, was to "build up our navy!" And, with his knowledge of naval affairs and accurate estimate of seamen of all grades, what an admirable secretary of our navy these qualifications would have made him! His political instincts seemed clear and unerring. April 13, 1850, he thought "Congress a prodigious humbug; Calhoun's attitude another," as was also Webster's answer, which, however, had "capital faults." From almost a seer and a prophet came in 1850 these words: "We are on the eve of great events. Every week knocks a link out of the chain of the Union." This was written to a dear and valued friend of South Carolina, to whom a few months later he further wrote: "The Southerns talk of fighting Uncle Sam,--that long-armed, well-knuckled, hard-fisted old scamp, Uncle Sam." And among the dearest of his life-long friends stood this "Southern" Commodore, William Branford Shubrick. Yet in close quarters, "he would rather have died than lied to him." His standards of honesty were as rock-hewn; and his words on his friend Lawrence perhaps apply as aptly to himself: "There was no more dodge in him than there was in the mainmast."

During some years prior to 1850, political party issues on "Anti-slavery," grew from mild to violent. And famous in the annals of Cooperstown was the spirited debate, between Mr. Cooper, for colonization, and his friend, the Hon. Gerrit Smith, for immediate abolition. This vital question of national interest was given able and exhaustive treatment by both debaters who spoke several hours while "The audience listened with riveted attention." At its close the two gentlemen walked arm in arm to the "Hall," Cooper's home, where they dined together.

From Mr. Keese comes an anecdote of Commodore Shubrick's visit to his old shipmate at Cooperstown: "Mr. Cooper had a raw Irishman in his employ, as a man of all work. Sending him to the post-office one day for the mail, he told him to ask if there were any letters for Commodore Shubrick. Pat came to the window and with great confidence called out, 'Is there any letter for Commodore Brickbat?' 'Who?' said the astonished postmaster. The name was repeated. A villager coming in at that time, the postmaster asked him if he knew who was visiting Mr. Cooper. 'Commodore Shubrick,' was the reply. 'All, that's the name!' said Pat; 'and sure, didn't I come near it, though!'"

Possibly the sailing of Sir John Franklin in 1845 for the frozen country of the North Star led Fenimore Cooper to write "The Sea Lions," in the winter of 1849. When the Highlands were white, and its tree-life hoary with frost, the author could pen best his picture of a voyage to the ice-bergs, rifts, and snow-drifts, for which his two schooners, both called _The Sea Lion,_ were launched.

In the early years of his married life Cooper made many visits to the island home of a relative, by marriage, who, off the eastern shore of Long Island, led a half-sea life that was full of attraction for the young sailor. This gentleman only, his family and dependents, lived on Shelter Island, between which and the mainland all coming and going was by boat. Here they had shooting, fishing, and cruising a-plenty. The author's thorough knowledge of these waters was the probable reason for starting his two sealers from this port in search of valuable sealing-grounds in the polar seas. The schooners and their captains were American. One of the sealers was owned by an old, hard-fisted miser of Puritanic pattern, whose sweet niece Mary, pretty and simply good, makes the very lovable heroine of this book. Beneath the low porch and within the thrifty garden and great orchard of her island home, Mary's heart had been captured by Roswell Gardner, the daring young captain of her uncle's schooner _The Sea Lion_. In the faith of the Star and the Cross the young girl worshipped with strong and childlike piety, while her lover "stood coldly by and erect with covered head,"--a doubter, but honestly striving to find his balance. Mary prays and hopes while the young man sails to the far-away ice land, where, shipwrecked and alone with his Maker, he finds the light of Truth shining for him on the far-away shores of his frozen hold. Of this sea tale Professor Lounsbury writes: "'The Sea Lions' is certainly one of the most remarkable conceptions that it ever entered into the mind of a novelist to create." And he adds: "It is a powerful story."

"Ways of the Hour" came from Cooper's pen in 1850. The purpose of this story was to attack trial by jury.

From the time of Cooper's friendship with Charles Mathews in the early 1820's, he had been in touch with the stage, and in June, 1850, he mentions writing a three-act play in "ridicule of new notions." The title was "Upside Down; or, Philosophy in Petticoats"--a comedy. Of this play Cooper's friend Hackett, the American Falstaff of that day, wrote him: "I was at Burton's its first night and saw the whole of the play. The first act told well; the second, pretty well, but grew heavy; the third dragged until the conclusion surprised the attention into _warm applause_."

This clever but not over-successful farce closed the literary career of James Fenimore Cooper.

Of Charles Mathews, the peerless comedy artist of England, and Fenimore Cooper, his old-time friend, Dr. John Wakefield Francis, wrote:

"During a memorable excursion made to Albany with [the actor] Dunlap, Mathews, and Mr. Cooper in the spring of 1823, I found him abounding in dramatic anecdotes as well as associations the striking scenery of the Hudson brought to mind. 'The Spy' was, however, the leading subject of Mathews' conversation. Cooper unfolded his intention of writing a series of works illustrative of his country, revolutionary occurrences, and the red man of the western world. Mathews expressed in strong terms the patriotic benefits of such an undertaking, and complimented Cooper on the specimen already furnished in Harvey Birch. The approbation of Mathews could never be slightly appreciated. There was little of flattery in him at any time. He was a sort of 'My Lord Lofty,' who valued himself in pride of opinion. Such an individual could not but enlist the feelings of Mr. Cooper. I hardly know whether I have ever seen Mr. Cooper manifest as much enthusiasm with any other person when occasion was felicitous, the subject of interest, and the comedian in his happy vein. Dunlap, were he speaking, might tell you of his [Cooper's] gratuities to the unfortunate playwright and the dramatic performer." In 1832 William Dunlap's "History of the American Theatre" was "Dedicated to James Fenimore Cooper Esq., by his Friend, the Author."

It was in this year of 1850 that the author's daughter, Susan Augusta, had her "Rural Hours" about ready to print. And of this book her father wrote: "It will be out in July. There is elegance, purity, knowledge, and grace about it. It will make her _the_ Cooper at once. Quite puts her papa's nose out of joint." More, concerning this book and New York City of that day, appears in her father's letter to her mother, written in that city at the Broadway Hotel, September 19, 1850.

BROADWAY HOTEL, September 19, 1850.

MY BELOVED S,--The post office is sadly out of joint. I wrote you
the day I arrived.... Right and left I hear of "Rural Hours." I am
stopped in the street a dozen times a day to congratulate me. The
price of the fine edition is $7.00. It will be the presentation
volume of the season. I can see that Putnam expects to sell some
eight hundred or a thousand of them.... The improvements here are
wonderful. They build chiefly of brown freestone and noble edifices
of five and six stories with a good deal of architectural
pretension.... I sat three times for lithographs yesterday and with
vastly better success than before. The pictures are all very like
and very pleasing. I am to have one which will fall to your lot as
a matter of course. Your letter of Tuesday reached me this morning.
You ought to have had three letters from me by Tuesday evening.
F.'s [the author's daughter Frances] shawl went by "A." I suppose
it is a courting shawl. It is almost the only one of the kind
Stewart had--a little too grave perhaps but scarcely so for the
country. Stewart is making a palace of a store. He takes the whole
front of the block on Broadway with fifteen windows in front--and
all of marble. With the tenderest regards to all, I remain yours
Most affectionately, J.F.C.

Miss Cooper makes alive each season's charms, as they pass over the Glimmerglass and wane beyond Hannah's Hill. From gentry to humble-folk, real Cooperstown types appear and disappear among these pages; and even the "half-a-dozen stores" have place, where "at the same counter you may buy kid gloves and a spade; a lace veil and a jug of molasses; a satin dress and a broom," among other things of even greater variety. She tells how St. Valentine's Day was celebrated in a very original way as _Vrouwen-Daghe_, or women's day of the old Dutch colonists.

She also records that first lake party to Point Judith, given by her grandfather, Judge Cooper, in August, 1799, but leaves the description of her father's lake parties to Mr. Keese: "He was fond of picnic excursions on the lake, generally to the _Three Mile Point_, and often with a party of gentlemen to Gravelly, where the main treat was a chowder, which their host made up with great gusto. He could also brew a bowl of punch for festive occasions, though he himself rarely indulged beyond a glass of wine for dinner." Concerning these festivities Mr. Keese adds: "Lake excursions until 1840 were made by a few private boats or the heavy, flat-bottomed skiff which worthy Dick Case kept moored at the foot of Fair Street. But Dick's joints were too stiff to row more than an easy reach from the village; to the Fairy Spring was the usual measure of his strength. The Three Mile Point was the goal of the best oarsmen. Dick's successor in the thirties was an ugly horse-boat that in 1840 gave place to the famous scow of Joe Tom and his men, which for twenty years took picnic parties to the Point. A president of our country, several governors of the State, and Supreme Court judges were among these distinguished passengers. Doing such duty the scow is seen in the 1840 pictures of Cooperstown. No picnic of his day was complete without famous 'Joe Tom,' who had men to row the scow, clean the fish, stew potatoes, make coffee, and announce the meal. Rowing back in the gloaming of a summer's night, he would awake the echoes of Natty Bumppo's Cave for the pleasure of the company." At times a second echo would return from Hannah's Hill, and a third from Mt. Vision.

Between the lines can be read the hearty and cheery author's pleasure in all this merriment, yet, none the less, life's shadows exacted full attention, as the following shows: "Cooper took a generous and active part in sending relief to the starving people of Ireland; for, March 8, 1847, James Fenimore Cooper heads his town committee, and, 'in the name of charity and in obedience to the commands of God,' he urges an appeal 'from house to house, for _Food_ is wanting that we possess in abundance.'"

"Cooper would admit of no denial of principle but could be lenient to offenders. One day he caught a man stealing fruit from his garden. Instead of flying into a passion, he told him how wrong it was to make the neighbors think there was no way of getting his fruit but by stealing it, and bid him the next time to come in at the gate and ask for it like a true man. Cooper then helped him to fill his basket and let him go." The author's fine fruit trees must have been tempting!

One day while walking in the garden with some ladies, Mr. Cooper led the way to a tree well laden with fine apples. Unable to reach them, he called to a boy in the street, and presenting him to his friends as one of the best boys in the village,--one who never disturbed his fruit,--he lifted the little fellow up to the branches to pick apples for the guests, and then filled his pockets as a reward for his honesty, and promised him more when he came again. The delighted boy waited for a few days and then repeated his visit to the tree, but forgetting to ask permission. Not knowing him from frequent intruders, Mr. Cooper's high voice from a distance, added to the savage barking of his watch-dog, frightened the well-meaning forager into a resolve that he would not forget the easier way next time of first asking before picking.

The author's genuine interest in his hometown folk never waned. Among the many and sincere expressions of his good-will were the free lectures he gave to the villagers. His descriptions of naval actions were full of vigor. On the blackboard he presented fleets, changing their positions, moving ship after ship as the contest went on, at the same time stating the facts in history and using his cane as a pointer.

It is of note that Mr. Cooper's personal appearance in 1850 was remarkable. He seemed in perfect health and highest energy and activity of faculties, but the autumn of this year found him in New York City under mild ailments. His friend, Mr. George Washington Green, regretted not noting better his last talk with the author about this time, of which he says: "He excused himself that morning at Putnam's for not rising to shake hands. 'My feet,' said he, 'are so tender that I do not like to stand longer than I can help.' Yet when we walked together into Broadway, I could not help turning now and then to admire his commanding figure and firm bearing. Sixty years seemed to sit lightly on him. After a short stroll we went to his room at the _Globe_ and sat down to talk. I never found him so free upon his own works and literary habits. He confessed his partiality for Leather stocking. Said he: 'I meant to have added one more scene and introduced him in the Revolution, but I thought the public had had enough of him, and never ventured it.'"

Cooper's enjoyment of the marvelous voice of "The Swedish Nightingale," as Jenny Lind was called, the publication of his daughter's "Rural Hours," and the active progress of his own book sales are noted in his letter to his beloved wife.

BROADWAY HOTEL, Friday, Nov. 15, 1850.

MY DEAREST W.,--Julia and Miss Thomas came down with me to hear
Jenny Lind. "Have you heard Jenny Lind?" "How do you like Jenny
Lind?" are the questions which supplant "Fine weather to-day" and
other similar comprehensive remarks. I am patiently waiting for the
"Lake Gun" [a magazine article]. I am well and shall commence in
earnest next week. Tell Sue [his daughter] I have seen Putnam, who
will be delighted to publish her new book. "Naval History" is a
little slack for the moment. There are less than a hundred copies
of second edition on hand and the third must be shortly prepared.
The fine edition will be published to-morrow. About two hundred
copies have been sent to the trade and with that issue he will
start. He has had five and twenty copies done up in papier machia
at $9.00. N---- is well. D.Z. is still here. Old Peter is not yet
married, but the affair is postponed until Spring, when the bride
and groom will return to America. They wish to prolong the
delightful delusion of courtship. I hope they may be as happy as we
have been and love each other as much forty--days after their union
as we do forty years.... Yours J.F.C.

At No. 1 Bond Street stood the old-time mansion of Dr. John W. Francis, where were welcomed many eminent in arts and letters at home and abroad, and where their host wrote his "Reminiscences of Sixty Years." Here it was that Cooper, on his last visit to New York, came seeking aid for his failing health. But with December the author returned to Cooperstown, whence he wrote a friend: "I have gone into dock with my old hulk, to be overhauled. Francis says I have congestion, and I must live low, deplete, and take pills. While I am frozen, my wife tells me my hands, feet, and body are absolutely warm. The treatment is doing good. You cannot imagine the old lady's delight at getting me under, in the way of food. I get no meat, or next to none, and no great matter in substitutes. This morning being Christmas, I had a blow-out of oysters, and at dinner it will go hard if I do not get a cut into the turkey. I have lost pounds, yet I feel strong and clearheaded. I have had a narrow escape, if I have escaped."

The following spring Cooper again went to New York City, whence he dates a letter to his wife:

Saturday, March 29, 1851

COLLEGE HOTEL, NEW YORK

Your letter of Thursday has just reached me. I am decidedly
better.--Last night I was actually dissipated. L.---- came for me
in a carriage and carried me off almost by force to Doctor
Bellows, where I met the Sketch Club, some forty people, many of
whom I knew. I stayed until past ten, ate a water ice, talked a
great deal, returned, went to bed fatigued and slept it off.--My
friends are very attentive to me, they all seem glad to see me and
think I am improving, as I certainly am.... I shall come home
shortly--I want to be in my garden and I wish to be in your dear
hands, love, for though you know nothing you do a great deal that
is right. Last evening I passed with Charlotte M.--who wanted to
take me home to nurse me. There is no chance of seeing S.----.

Adieu, my love.... My blessing on the girls--all four of them.

J.F.C.

In April, 1851, the poet Bryant wrote of him "Cooper is in town, in ill health. When I saw him last he was in high health and excellent spirits." These spirits were not dashed by the progressing malady that took him home to Cooperstown. Not realizing what illness meant, he bravely accepted what it brought,--the need to dictate the later parts of his "History of the United States Navy," and the "Towns of Manhattan," when he himself could no longer write. The latter was planned, partly written, and in press at the time of his death. That which was printed was burnt, the manuscript in part rescued, and finished by the pen of one of the family.

It was Fenimore Cooper's happiness to be blessed with a family whose greatest pleasure was to supply his every needed comfort; and one of his daughters was ever a companion in his pursuits, the wise and willing writer of his letters and dictations, and the most loving, never-tiring nurse of his latter days. Of these last months there is a pretty child-record by a friend who, "entering without notice," one day saw Mr. Cooper "lying at full length on the parlor floor, with a basket of cherries by his side. Upon his chest, vainly trying to bestride the portly form, sat his little grandson, to whom he passed cherries, and who, in turn, with childish glee, was dropping them, one by one, into his grandfather's mouth. The smiles that played over the features of child and man during this sweet and gentle dalliance were something not easily forgotten. A few months after this both child and man had passed beyond 'the smiling'; aye, and 'the weeping,' too."

Letters from Cooperstown led Dr. Francis to go there August 27, 1851, to see his esteemed friend in his own home. And of Cooper the Doctor wrote: "I explained to him the nature of his malady--frankly assured him that within the limits of a week a change was indispensable to lessen our forebodings of its ungovernable nature. He listened with fixed attention.--Not a murmur escaped his lips. Never was information of so grave a cast received by any individual in a calmer spirit."

So passed the summer days of 1851 with the author, near his little lake, the Glimmerglass, and its Mt. Vision, when one mid-September Sunday afternoon, with his soul's high standard of right and truth undimmed, James Fenimore Cooper crossed the bar.

While from youth Cooper was a reverent follower of the Christian faith, his religious nature deepened with added years. Eternal truth grew in his heart and mind as he, in time, learned to look above and beyond this world's sorrows and failures. In July, 1851, he was confirmed in Christ's Church,--the little parish church just over the way from the old-Hall home, whose interests he had faithfully and generously served as sometime warden and as vestryman since 1834.

Of one such service Mr. Keese writes that in 1840 the original Christ's Church of Cooperstown underwent important alterations. Its entire interior was removed and replaced by native oak. As vestryman Mr. Cooper was prime mover and chairman of the committee of change, and hearing of the chancel screen in the old Johnstown church, first built by Sir William Johnson, he took a carpenter and went there to have drawings made of this white-painted pine screen, which at his own expense he had reproduced with fine, ornamental effect in oak, and made it a gift to Christ's Church. It was removed from Christ's Church about 1891, badly broken and abandoned. This so disturbed Cooper's daughters that his grandson, James Fenimore Cooper of Albany, New York, had the pieces collected, and stored them for using in his Cooperstown home; but he--by request of the Reverend Mr. Birdsall--had them made into two screens for the aisles of the church, where they were erected as a memorial to his father, Paul Fenimore, and his great-grandfather, Judge William Cooper.

Mr. Keese's words, dating January, 1910, are: "And now comes in a rather singular discovery made by the writer a few days ago: In looking over a book in my library, published about ninety years ago, there is an article on Newstead Abbey, Nottinghamshire, England, with a steel engraving of the front of the Abbey, which is almost identical with the design of the original screen in Christ Church. Who was responsible for transplanting the same to this country appears to be unknown, but the fact is interesting in that Newstead Abbey was the home of the Byron family and that of Lord Byron."

In a letter of April 22, 1840, to H. Bleeker, Esq., Cooper wrote of this screen: "I have just been revolutionizing Christ's Church, Cooperstown, not turning out a vestry but converting its pine interior into oak--_bona fide_ oak, and erecting a screen that I trust, though it may have no influence on my soul, will carry my name down to posterity. It is really a pretty thing--pure Gothic, and is the wonder of the country round."

Of Cooper himself was said: "Thus step by step his feet were guided into the ways of peace." It was of the Protestant Episcopal church that his wife's brother, William Heathcote de Lancey--a genius of goodness--was bishop.

A beautiful, tender, and touching tribute to the love of his life was Fenimore Cooper's will. In part it reads: "I, James Fenimore Cooper, give and bequeath to my wife, Susan Augusta, all my property, whether personal or mixed, to be enjoyed by her and her heirs forever. I make my said wife the executrix of my will."

In a little over four months his wife followed him to the far country. Of his children, Elizabeth, the first-born, died in infancy; Susan Augusta, the author, was the second; the third, Caroline Martha, became Mrs. Henry Frederick Phinney; next came Anne Charlotte, then Maria Frances, who married Richard Cooper; Fenimore, the first son, they lost in babyhood, and Paul Fenimore, the youngest, became a member of the bar in Albany, New York.

Cooper left his family a competency, but the Hall home soon passed into other hands; later it was burnt. From rescued brick an attractive house was built on the west bank of the Susquehanna for his daughters Susan Augusta and Anne Charlotte, both now resting near father and mother in Christ's Church yard. Their niece, Miss Susan Augusta Cooper, daughter of their sister, Maria Frances, Mrs. Richard Cooper, now lives in this picturesque house, and there she reverently treasures many personal belongings of her famous grandfather, and also those of her author-aunt, Susan Augusta Cooper, whose best memorial, however, is the noble orphanage on the river-bank some ways below. The oaken doors saved from the flames of the burning Hall served for this new home, which overlooked the grounds of their old home. The site of the latter is marked by Ward's "Indian Hunter." Aptly placed, peering through mists of green toward the author's church-yard grave, he is a most fitting guardian of the one-time garden of Fenimore Cooper.

By the generosity of the late Mrs. Henry Codman Potter, this hunter's domain has been transformed into beautiful "Cooper Grounds"; and here the red-man of bronze keeps ward and watch over memories that enshrine the genius of a noble soul whose records of this vanishing race are for all time.

A gentleman just from continental Europe in 1851 said of people there: "They are all reading Cooper." A traveler, returned from Italy about that time, wrote: "I found all they knew of America--and that was not a little--they had learned from Cooper's novels." When an eminent physician who was called to attend some German immigrants asked how they knew so much of their new-home country, they replied: "We learned it all from Cooper. We have four translations of his works in German, and we all read them." February 22, 1852, Charles G. Leland of Philadelphia wrote of Cooper's works: "There were several translations issued at Frankfort, Germany, in 1824, in two hundred and fifty parts, a second large edition in 1834, and a third in 1851. All his works, more than Scott and Shakespeare, are household words to the German people." Library records of to-day show no waning of this early popularity of the "Leatherstocking Tales" and "Sea Stories" of Fenimore Cooper. In 1883 Victor Hugo told General Wilson that excepting the authors of France, "Cooper was the greatest novelist of the century." It was Balzac who said: "If Cooper had succeeded in the painting of character to the same extent that he did in the painting the phenomena of nature, he would have uttered the last word of our art."

From Hanau-on-Main, Germany, January, 1912, Herr Rudolf Drescher writes: "Within two years two new translations of Cooper's complete works have been issued. One at Berlin, the other at Leipsic. 180 pictures by the artist Max Slevogt held one edition at $192, the other with less pictures was $60, and both were sold. Cheaper editions without pictures also met with large sales. I possess an 1826, German copy of 'The Pioneers.'" Another record is, Cooper's works have been seen "in thirty different countries, in the languages of Finland, Turkey and Persia, in Constantinople, in Egypt, at Jerusalem, at Ispahan."

The author's literary cruise, dating back three years before the launching of "The Pilot" in 1823, was a long one. And no admiral of mortal fame ever led so sturdy and motley a fleet--from the proud man-of-war to the light felucca, gondola, and bark-canoe--over ocean and inland waters. With visions of forests, its moving spirit and skilful pilot still stands at the helm, the full light of the ages upon "eye, arm, sail, spar, and flag." Thus is Fenimore Cooper firmly anchored in the mind and heart of posterity as the creator of American romance.

August, 1907, "Historic Cooperstown" held her Memorial Celebration. Her founder, Judge William Cooper, his hardy pioneers, and the "memory of one whose genius had given her Glimmerglass country world-wide fame," were honored with world-wide tributes. Among these were addresses, heartfelt, and able, from the late Bishop Henry Codman Potter, on "The Religious Future"; Francis Whiting Halsey, on "The Headwaters of the Susquehanna"; George Pomeroy Keese, on "Early Days of Cooperstown," and James Fenimore Cooper of Albany, New York, on his great-grandfather "William Cooper."

From "The Cooperstown Centennial" one learns that at five o'clock on Wednesday afternoon of August 7 many people were reverently taking part in solemn services around the grave of James Fenimore Cooper and beneath the glinting tree-shadows of Christ's Church yard. The service began with a procession of young girls in white surrounding the author's last resting-place, where verses on Cooper were recited by Miss Wilkinson; then the little folk sang the lyric tribute of Mr. Saxton:

0, great magician, may the life
We lead be such a one as thine--
A simple life, transcending art,
A spirit close to Nature's heart,
A soul as strong and clear, and fine.

After singing, the children, gathering around, covered the marble slab with their tributes--the flowers of the season. Some poetic pictures in blank verse were given of Cooper's works, by the Reverend Dr. W.W. Battershall of St. Peter's Church in Albany, New York, the present rector, and successor of Doctor Ellison, Cooper's boyhood instructor. Then the Rev. Ralph Birdsall, rector of the author's "little parish church," spoke of Fenimore Cooper's church-yard home: "A marble slab that bears no praise for fame or virtue; only a simple cross, symbol of the faith in which he lived and died, and upon which he based his hopes of immortality." The soldier lying near, brought from the field of honor; the author's old neighbors, who exchanged with him in life the friendly nod; hands that were calloused with the axe and shovel, and Judge Temple's aged slave in narrow home--all sleeping beneath the same sward and glancing shadows are not less honored now than is the plain, unpolished slab of stone, bearing two dates,--of birth and entrance into the life eternal of James Fenimore Cooper.

On his airy height of the "Cooper Memorial," gleaming white through the lakewood slope of Mt. Vision, wondrous Leatherstocking stands, a rare tribute to simple, uplifting goodness. Clad in his hunting-shirt, deerskin cap, and leggings, his powder-horn and bullet-pouch swung over his shoulder, his dog Hector at his feet, looking up with speaking expression into the fine, wise, honest face of his master, stands Natty, gazing over all the lake he loved so well.

---- o'er no sweeter lake
Shall morning break or noon-cloud sail;
No fairer face than thine shall take
The sunset's golden veil.

J.G. WHITTIER.

"Cooper had no predecessor and no successor in his own field of fiction; he stood alone,--he was a creator, and his 'Natty' will stand forever as the most original of pioneer characters," wrote Henry M. Alden.

With Rev. Mr. Birdsall, many think the time has come when the fame of Fenimore Cooper demands a world-given memorial in Cooperstown. A lifelike statue from an _artist's_ chisel should show the "'prose poet of the silent woods and stormy seas' seated, pen in hand, gazing dreamily for inspiration over the Glimmerglass, where the phantom creatures of his genius brood." Let it stand, a new-world literary shrine, in the square fronting the Old-Hall home site, which northward commands a sweeping view of his "little lake" and a side glimpse of lofty Leatherstocking of the tree-tops--not far away.

And strewn the flowers of memory here.
For one whose fingers, years ago,
Their work well finished, dropped the pen;
Whose master mind from land to sea
Drew forms heroic, long to be
The living types of vanished men.
A.B. SAXTON.

IN MEMORIAM

GEORGE POMEROY KEESE

On April 22, 1910, and at the home of his son, Theodore Keese, in New York City, came the Spirit-Land call to the late George Pomeroy Keese. It was also in New York City that he was born, on January 14, 1828. His parents were Theodore Keese and Georgiann Pomeroy, niece of James Fenimore Cooper. This grand-nephew of the author enjoyed four score and more of full, active years, mostly spent in Cooperstown, N.Y., and he gave of them generously in serving the welfare and interests of that village. There Edgewater, Mr. Keese's attractive home, overlooks, from the south, the entire length and beauty of Lake Otsego, whose waters and banks are haunted by Cooper's creations.

From Mr. Keese is quoted:

"George Pomeroy of Northampton, Mass., came to Cooperstown among the early settlers in 1801. He married the only living sister of Fenimore Cooper in 1803.

"His ancestry dates back to the coming of William the Conqueror from Normandy in 1066. At this time Ralph de Pomeroy accompanied the Norman duke to England and rendered him such valuable assistance that he received from him no fewer than fifty-eight lordships in Devonshire as a reward for his services. Selecting a favorable site, not far from the banks of the river Dart, Ralph de Pomeroy erected thereon the celebrated stronghold that now bears the family name of Berry-Pomeroy Castle, the stately ruins of which are still visited as one of the most picturesque objects of interest in the county of Devon.

"The descendants of the founder of Berry-Pomeroy retained the lands belonging to their ancestral home until the time of Edward VI, when at the period of the rebellion of that date they were seized by the crown and bestowed upon the haughty Lord Protector Somerset in whose family they still remain."

October 10, 1849, Mr. Keese married Caroline Adriance Foote, daughter of Surgeon Lyman Foote, U.S.A., who, with seven of their children, survives her husband. From childhood Mrs. Keese well knew Fenimore Cooper.

From his tender years to the age of twenty-four Mr. Keese lived in close touch with the author until his death in 1851. Afterwards such near association, affection and ability made Mr. Keese a veritable stronghold of authentic values concerning this grand-uncle. After his five years of patient, careful direction given to the preparation of this _personal_ life of James Fenimore Cooper, the spirit of George Pomeroy Keese passed to the Land of Everlasting Light.

As a traveled, scholarly, wise, and gentle man, Mr. Keese kept in live pace with current events, and he possessed that strong, rare quality of character which "says little and does much," and compels esteem and devotion from all human kind.

Amongst Mr. Keese's various writings is "The Historic Records of Christ's Church, Cooperstown, N.Y." The rector, Reverend Ralph Birdsall, has written of its author: "At the altar of Christ's Church abides the secret that made Mr. Keese a man so widely honored and beloved."

MARY E. PHILLIPS.

INDEX

"Afloat and Ashore," 305

Albany, N.Y., 4, 8, 27-31, 38, 62, 104, 120, 123, 345

Alden, Henry M, 355

Allen, James, 34-35

"American Democrat, The," 272

d'Angers, Pierre Jean David, 144-146

"Autobiography of a Pocket Handkerchief, The," 293

Baillie, Joanna, 183

Balzac, 60, 276, 278, 350

Bancker, Richard, Mrs. (Sarah Duyckinck), 88-89

Bancroft, George, 117

Barnstable, 43

Battershall, W.W., 353

Belgium, 184, 244-247

Bella Genovese, the, 290-293

Benedict, Mrs. Clare, 22-23

Benjamin, Park, 273, 275

Béranger, 151

de Berri, Duchesse, 153

Birdsall, Rev. Ralph, 86, 342, 353-355

Bleeker, H., 343

Bonaparte, Princess Charlotte, 205

Bonaparte, Madame Letizia, 205, 293

Bonaparte, Napoleon I, 44, 137, 192, 244, 292

Bonaparte, Napoleon Louis, Count St Leu, 204-205, 207

Booth, Junius Brutus, 90

Box, Newport, 159

"Bravo, The," 225-229, 259

Bread and Cheese Club, 95-9, 185

Bryant, Julia, 301-302

Bryant, W.C., 84, 105, 110-113, 128, 238, 278, 338

Buffalo, N.Y., 52-56

Burlington, N.J., xii, 1, 2, 8, 60

Canning, George, 139

Case, Dick, 327-328

Cave, Harvey Birch's, 81

"Chainbearer, The," 307-308

Champlain, Lake, 60

Charles X of France, 153, 234

Chauncey, Capt. Isaac, 138

Chauntry, Sir Francis, 174-176

Clay Henry, 131

Clinton, De Witt, 75

Clinton, Gen. James, 104

Cole, Thomas, 278

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 183

Columbus, 281-282

Cooper, Ann, Cooper's sister _See Mrs. Geo. Pomeroy._

Cooper, Anne Charlotte, daughter, 16, 344-345

Cooper, Caroline Martha, 344

Cooper, Elizabeth, daughter, 71-72, 344

Cooper, Elizabeth Fenimore, mother, 2, 3, 64, 71-73

Cooper, Fenimore, son, 88, 100, 345

Cooper, Hannah, sister, 13-19

Cooper, Isaac, brother, 20, 72

Cooper, James, great-great-grandfather, 2.

Cooper, James Fenimore.
Accuracy, 106, 109, 115-118, 123, 127, 277, 282, 288-290;
ancestry, 2-4;
birth, 1;
boyhood, 12, 13, 19, 23-35, 39;
courage, 259, 273, 308;
death, 340;
honors, public, 99, 111-112, 114, 131, 192, 281;
prices of works, 276-277, 350;
industry, 43, 114;
generosity, 57, 105-106, 219, 329, 332;
screen gift, 340-343;
love of art, 198, 203, 239-240;
marriage, 68;
name, change of, 2, 119-120;
naval officer, 53-70;
patriotism, 64, 79, 185, 232, 243, 258-260, 273;
personality, 12, 49, 111-112, 149-152, 259, 267, 269, 280-281.
Portraits:
bust by d'Angers, 145;
bust by Greenough, 198-200;
daguerreotype by Brady, 279, 333;
in oil by Jarvis, 91, 146;
in oil by Madame de Mirbel, 143;
Paris drawing (1827), 148;
Yale silhouette, 39;
sailor, the, 42-48;
translations of works, 350.

Cooper, James Fenimore, grandson, x, 3-5, 342, 351.

Cooper, Maria Frances, daughter, 324, 342-345.

Cooper, Paul Fenimore, son, 100, 214, 216-217, 243, 342, 345.

Cooper, Richard Fenimore, brother, 20, 26, 62, 72.

Cooper, Richard Fenimore, nephew, 344, 345.

Cooper, Susan Augusta, wife, 63-65, 68, 71-72, 77, 98, 124-125, 132, 146-147, 154, 165-166, 247, 250, 264, 268, 314, 323-324, 334-338, 343-344.

Cooper, Susan Augusta, daughter, 13, 54, 71, 139, 142, 220, 243, 265, 268, 282, 314, 323-327, 334-335, 344-345, 347.

Cooper, Susan Augusta, granddaughter, 345, 347.

Cooper, William, father, 2, 4-11, 16, 34, 36, 42, 53, 62, 101, 103, 112, 342, 351.

Cooper, William, nephew, 142, 193.

Cooperstown, N.Y., xi, 15, 33, 69, 71, 274, 296-299, 315, 317, 328, 336,
338-348, 351-354.
Châlet Farm, 296-299, 311-314, 327.
"Chronicles of," 34, 102.
Fenimore Farm home, 71-72.
Manor, The, 8, 9, 103.
Otsego Hall, 8, 9, 16, 100, 261-265, 300, 317, 340, 345-347.
Otsego Lake, 4, 5, 6, 18-21, 27-28, 71, 104, 261, 265, 276, 282-286,
296, 324-328, 340, 356.
Three-Mile Point, 270-272, 327-328.

Cory, Master Oliver, 23-25.

"Crater, The," 308-309.

Croghan, Geo., xii.

Crosby, Enoch, 80, 86.

Dana, Richard Henry, 96, 111, 201.

"Deerslayer, The," 5, 282-286.

DeKay, James E., 93, 95.

Drake, Joseph Rodman, 92-93.

Drescher, Rudolf, 350.

Dunlap, William, 322-323.

Dwight, Timothy, 36, 37.

_Edinburgh Review, The_, 110.

Elba, 291-293.

Elliott, Jesse D., 287-289.

Ellison, Dr. Thomas, 28-33, 35, 353.

England, 2, 44, 111, 115-118, 169-172, 277, 305.

Erie, Lake, Battle of, 293-294, 306.

"Excursions in Italy," 210.

Fenimore, Elizabeth. _See Mrs. Wm. Cooper_.

Fenimore, Richard, 2, 262.

Fenimore box, 3.

Florence, Palazzo Ricasoli, 197-198.

Florence, Villa St. Illario, 206-208.

Floyd, Elizabeth, 67.

Floyd, Col. Richard, 67.

France, 135, 157, 168-169, 228, 237, 243.

Francis, Dr. J.W., 186, 278, 322, 336-337, 339-340.

Frey, Heindrick, 11, 12.

Galitzin, Princess, 139-140, 164-166.

Gelsomina, 226-228.

George, Lake, 120, 125-126.

Germany, 228, 247, 251, 253-255, 349-350.

Gibraltar, 46.

"Gleanings in Europe," 236, 270.

Glens Fall, 122-124.

Goodrich, A.T., 78.

_Graham's Magazine_, 287, 293, 305, 308.

Greeley, Horace, 273, 275.

Green, Geo. Washington, 149-152, 332.

Greenough, Horatio, 198-203, 268.

Grey, Charles, Earl, 181.

Hackett, James H., 321.

Hall, J.E., 84.

Hall, Mrs. Sarah, 84.

Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 90, 92-93, 95.

Halsey, Francis Whiting, 351.

Harrison, Judge Bazil, 313.

Harrison, William Henry, 14-16.

"Headsman, The," 257.

Heathcote, Hon. Caleb, 66.

Heidelberg and Castle, 253-254.

"Heidenmauer, The," 252.

Hell Gate, 100, 124, 176, 307.

Holland, 180, 183-184.

Holland House, 45, 177-180.

Holland, Lady, 176, 180.

Holland, Lord, 178-180.

"Home as Found," 272, 276.

"Homeward Bound," 272.

Hooper, Dr. Joseph, 29.

Howe, M.A. DeWolfe, 274.

Hudson River, The, 93, 120-121.

_Hudson_, The, 132-133.

Hugo, Victor, 350.

Huntington, Daniel, 112-113.

Irish, Mr., 109-110.

Irving, Washington, 84, 90, 112-113, 138-139, 176, 278.

Isle of Wight, 44, 133-134.

Italy, 197-268.

Jarvis, John Wesley, 91-95.

Jay, John, Chief Justice, 32, 41, 77-78, 80, 259.

Jay (Mary Duyckinck), Mrs. Peter, 88-89.

Jay, William, 32, 34, 41.

Johnston, Capt. John, 43-44, 46.

Jones, John Paul, 108-109, 294-295.

Kean, Edmund, 90.

Keese, George Pomeroy Keese, ix, x, xi, 7, 19, 21, 264, 267, 274, 296, 317, 327-328, 340, 342-343, 351, 357.

Keese, Mrs. Geo. Pomeroy Keese, 300-301, 357.

Kent, Chancellor James, 95, 131-132.

King, Charles, 95, 114.

_Knickerbocker Magazine_, 162.

Lafayette, General, 114-116, 137, 142, 149-157, 166-169, 233-237.

de Lancey, Edward Floyd, 29.

de Lancey and his seal, Lieut. Gov. James, 65-66.

de Lancey, John Peter, 63-64, 66-67.

de Lancey, Stephen, 65, 67.

de Lancey, Susan Augusta. _See Mrs. J.F. Cooper_.

de Lancey, Bishop Wm. Heathcote, 68, 343-344.

Lawrence, Capt. James, 1, 60-61, 63, 316.

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 182.

Leatherstocking, 5, 19, 59, 100-101, 120, 123-130, 162-164, 189-190, 243, 278, 282, 322, 332-384.

Leghorn, 211-212.

Leland, Charles G., 349.

Leopold II of Tuscany, 202-204.

Leslie, Charles Robt., 177-178, 182.

"Letter to his Countrymen, A," 267.

Lind, Jenny, 334-335.

"Lionel Lincoln," 115-118.

Lockhart, John Gibson, 161-162, 182.

Lockhart, Mrs. Sophia Scott, 181-182.

London, 44-45, 47, 134, 170-184, 186, 210.

Louis Philippe, 234-236.

Lounsbury, Thomas R., 237, 288-290, 307, 320.

Luscomb, Archbishop, 240.

McLane, Mr. Louis, 235-236.

Mackenzie, Lieut. Alex. Slidell, 305-306.

Mackintosh, Sir James, 177, 182, 232.

Mahan, Capt. A.T., 287.

Marie Amélie, 236-237.

Mathews, Charles, 320-322.

Matthews, Brander, 110, 126, 130, 229.

"Mercedes of Castile," 281-282.

Mickieowicz, Adam, 218-219.

"Mohicans, The Last of the," 269.

Monroe, Mrs. Elizabeth, 119.

Montague, Wortley, 120, 126.

Morris, Geo. P., 90, 93.

Morse, Samuel F.B., 95, 239, 243, 262.

Myers, Ned, 45, 49, 265, 286, 299.

"Myers, Ned," 48-49.

Naples and Bay, 212-213, 259-260.

"Naval History Dispute," 287-288.

"Naval Officers, Lives of Distinguished," 308.

"Navy, History of the United States," 48, 277-278, 288-290, 305, 338.

Nelson, Judge Samuel, 265, 266.

Newport, R.I., 158-159, 198.

_News, Illustrated London_, 162.

New York City, 67-128, 131-132, 259-269, 323-324.
Burn's Coffee House, 67-68.
Castle Garden, 114-115, 335.
City Hotel, 67, 93, 95.
Fraunces Tavern, 67.
Homes, Cooper's:
Beech St., 98-99.
Bleeker St., 260, 269.
Broadway, 88, 90, 98.
Greenwich St., 128, 130.
St. Mark's Place, 272-276.
Theatres:
Burton's, 321.
Lafayette, 87.
Park, 90.
Washington Hall, 95.

Niagara Falls, 56, 309-310, 315.

North, Christopher, 96, 259.

"Notions of Americans," 185.

"Oak Openings, The," 314.

Oaken Bucket, The Old, 93-95.

_Oneida, The_, 53-54, 56.

Ontario, 54, 123.

Oswego, N.Y., 53.

_Otsego Herald_, 17, 18, 33, 51, 101.

Paris, 136, 137-138, 184, 210, 228, 232-243, 248.

Parkman, Francis, 126.

"Pathfinder, The," 59-60, 278, 282, 283-284.

Perry, Oliver Hazard, 287, 293, 305.

"Pilot, The," 62, 106-111, 351.

"Pioneers, The," 54, 74, 105, 111, 258.

Pomeroy, Mr. and Mrs. George, 18, 21-23.

_Post, The Evening_, 111.

"Prairie, The," 59, 129-130, 138, 162-164, 258.

"Precaution," 74, 77-78.

Putnam, George P., 112-113, 335.

_Putnam's Magazine_, 238.

Quoi de Mesereau, Mon. Le, 102.

"Recollections of Europe," 135, 157, 168.

"Red Rover, The," 62, 98, 118, 146, 156, 158, 160, 198, 238.

"Red Skins, The," 308.

"Rhine, Excursions up the," and Rhine Country, 244, 247-255.

Rogers, Samuel, 45, 174-176, 178, 180-183.

Rome, 216-220.
Home in, 218.
Ruins, 218-220.
St. Peter's, 216-218.

Sailor's Snug Harbor, 48-49.

"Satanstoe," 306-307.

Saxton, A.B., 352-356.

Scott, Miss Anne, 141-142, 182.

Scott, Sir Walter, 76-77, 139-143, 160-162, 182.

Scott, Gen. Winfield, 315.

"Sea Lions, The," 318-320.

Shubrick, Wm. B., 62, 109-110, 316-319.

"Sketches of England," 32, 270, 286.

Smith, Gerrit, 317.

_Somers_, The, 305-306.

Sorrento, 213-215, 227-228.

Southby, William, 183.

Spencer, John C., 305.

"Spy, The," 74, 83-87, 100, 111, 258, 315.

Stanley, Hon. E.G. (Lord Derby), 120, 123, 126, 127.

_Stirling_, The, 43-44, 46-48.

Switzerland, 186-196.
St. Bernard, Hospice and Pass of, 257-258.
Bridge, Devil's, 193-195.
Homes, Cooper's:
_La Lorraine_, Berne, 187, 189, 191.
_Mon Repose_, Vevay, 255.
Cooper's book: "Sketches in Switzerland."

"Switzerland, Sketches in," 269-270.

"Tales for Fifteen," 105-107.

Talleyrand, Charles Maurice de, 16-18, 108, 153-154.

Thackeray, Wm. M., 162.

"Tier Jack," 314-315.

Tom, Joe, 328-329.

End of Project Gutenberg's James Fenimore Cooper, by Mary E. Phillips