One summer afternoon, while sitting on his broad piazza under the lindens, Cooper, with others, listened to the Judge's recital of the story of a spy's great struggles and unselfish loyalty while serving his country in the American Revolution, and the story gave Cooper an idea for his "Harvey Birch." The fact that strolling peddlers, staff in hand and pack on back, were common visitors then at country houses, became another aid. "It was after such a visit of a Yankee peddler of the old sort, to the cottage at Angevine, that Harvey's lot in life was decided—he was to be a spy and a peddler." It was something to the author's after regret that he drew the dignity of George Washington into the "Harper" of this story.
"The entire country between the Americans on the skirts of the Highlands
and the British on Manhattan—or 'the Neutral Ground'—suffered more in
harried skirmishes, pillage, violence, fire, and the taking of life
itself, than any of its extent during this strife." Scarsdale and
Mamaroneck were in this region, with White
Plains close by. Fort
Washington was on a near height, and Dobb's Ferry a few miles off. "The
Coopers' daily drive from Angevine discovered a pretty thicket, some
swampy land, and a cave in which to hide the loyal, to be fed by
friendly hands at night until escape was possible. There were also at
hand the gloomy horrors of a haunted wood where gliding ghosts fought
midnight battles"—all of this the farmers knew and could tell of,
too. One of them, "Uncle John," lived just below the home hill in a wee
cot of four walls, each of a different color—red, yellow, brown, and
white. He frequently came up the Angevine-home hill to tell, between his
apples, nuts, and glasses of cider, tales of what he, too, knew, to a
good listener,—the master of the house. Then there was "Major Brom B.,
a hero of the great war, with his twenty-seven martial spirits, all
uniformed in silver gray, his negro Bonny and his gun, 'the Bucanneer,'
had not its fellow on the continent." These were all aids, and sources
of unfailing interest about the many Westchester chimney firesides of
that day. In his "Literary Haunts and Homes," Dr. Theodore F. Wolfe
tells of a fine, old-time home, beyond the valley below Cooper's
Angevine farm,
where he placed many an exciting scene of this coming
tale. In 1899 Dr. Wolfe notes the house as changed, only by a piazza
across its front, from the days when Cooper knew it well, and that it
was pleasantly shaded by many of the fine, tall trees that gave it the
name of "The Locusts," which it kept in his story as the home of the
Whartons.
THE LOCUSTS OF COOPER'S TIME.
The descendants of the family he used to visit still live
there, and one of them showed Dr. Wolfe all that was left of "The Four
Corners," Betty Flanigan's hotel, whence Harvey Birch, Cooper's hero,
escaped in Betty's petticoats. Cooper made these familiar scenes of
southern New York the background of his second book, "The Spy, a Tale of
the Neutral Ground," which also was published, without the
author's
name, December 22, 1821.
TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION OF "THE SPY."
Its success called for a new edition the
following March, and its translation into many foreign tongues. Of
Cooper's "Betty Flanigan" Miss Edgeworth declared, "An Irish pen could
not have drawn her better." Except Irving's "Sketch Book," his
"Knickerbocker's History of New York," and Bryant's thin volume of eight
poems, there were few books by native writers when "The Spy" appeared;
and "then it was that the new world awakened to the surprising discovery
of her first American novelist. The glory that Cooper justly won was
reflected on his country, of whose literary independence he was the
pioneer. 'The Spy' had the charm of reality; it tasted of the soil."
While the American press was slow to admit the merit of "The Spy," a
cordial welcome was given the book in "The Port Folio." It was written
by Mrs. Sarah Hall, mother of the editor, and author of "Conversations
on the Bible." This act of timely kindness Cooper never forgot. June 30,
1822, Washington Irving, from London, wrote Mr. John E. Hall, the
editor: "'The Spy' is extremely well spoken of by the best circles,—not
a bit better than it deserves, for it does the author great credit."
In 1826, when "The Spy" was before the footlights in Lafayette Theatre, on Broadway, near Canal Street, Enoch Crosby, the supposed original spy, appeared in a box with friends, and "was given thunders of applause." From "Portraits of Cooper's Heroines," by the Rev. Ralph Birdsall of Cooperstown, is gleaned: On the walls of the Newport home of the Rev. John Cornell hang two old portraits that have close connection with the inner history of "The Spy." To their present owner they came from the New York home of his mother, the late Mrs. Isaac Cornell, and to her they came from the Somerville, New Jersey, home of her father, Mr. Richard Bancker Duyckinck, who in his turn received them from his aunt, Mrs. Peter Jay,—the subject of one of these portraits and at one time mistress of the Jay mansion at Rye. Over one hundred years ago it was that, from the walls of this rare old home at Rye, Westchester County, the grace of these ladies on canvas caught James Cooper's thought to use them, by description, in his coming book, "The Spy." Chapter XIII describes closely the personal appearance and style of dress of these portraits. "Jeanette Peyton," the maiden aunt of Cooper's story, owes her mature charm to the portrait of Mary Duyckinck, wife of Peter Jay. From the "cap of exquisite lawn and lace," her gown of rich silk, short sleeves and "large ruffles" of lace which with "the experience of forty years," also veiled her shoulders, to the triple row of large pearls about her throat,—all these details are found in Cooper's text-picture of Jeanette Peyton. His "Sarah Wharton" no less closely follows the portrait of Mrs. Jay's older sister, Sarah Duyckinck, who became Mrs. Richard Bancker. Her name Sarah may have been given purposely to Sarah Wharton of Cooper's story. Cooper was thirty-two when it was written, and it is not unlikely that Mrs. Jay, then eighty-five years of age, was pleased with this delicate tribute the young novelist paid to the beauty of her own and her sister's youth.
Four daughters and a son now shared the author's home life, and in order to place his little girls in a school and be near his publishers, Cooper rented a modest brick house on Broadway, across the street from Niblo's Garden, near No. 585, Astor's home, which was a grand resort of Halleck and Irving, who wrote there a part of his "Life of Washington." Cooper's house was just above Prince Street—then almost out of town.
The modern club being then unknown, the brilliant men of the day met in taverns, and there talked of "everything under the starry scope of heaven." In the 1820's there was Edward Windhurst's famous nook under the sidewalk below Park Theatre, where Edmund Kean, Junius Brutus Booth, Cooper, Morris, Willis, and Halleck made gay and brilliant talk.
In the "Life and Letters of Fitz-greene Halleck," by General James Grant Wilson, it appears that Cooper was warmly attached to Halleck since 1815, when they first met. Fitz-greene Halleck is credited with taking Cooper's earliest books to Europe in 1822 and finding a London publisher for them. The novelist called his friend "The Admirable Croaker," on account of a series of amusing and satirical verses written by Halleck and Drake and published over the signature of "Croaker and Co.," in the public press of that day. Into this atmosphere of charm came delightful and delighting Joseph Rodman Drake, with his "six feet two" of splendid youth; he was thought by some "the handsomest man in New York." From out this brilliant group comes the record that "'Culprit Fay,' written in August, 1816," says Halleck, "came from Cooper, Drake, DeKay, and Halleck, speaking of Scottish streams and their inspiration for poetry. Cooper and Halleck thought our American rivers could claim no such tribute of expression. Drake differed from his friends and made good his stand by producing in three days 'The Culprit Fay' from the Highlands of the Hudson; but," is added, "the Sound from Hunt's Point, his familiar haunt of salt water, made his inspiration."
To the City Hotel came Morris again with Dana, Cooper, and his friend, Samuel Woodworth, author of "The Old Oaken Bucket"—to plan "The Mirror," in 1823.
The story of the old song's writing is: At noon on a summer's day in 1817 Woodworth, whose pen-name was "Selim," walked home to dinner from his office at the foot of Wall Street. Being very warm, he drank a glass of water from his pump, and after drinking it said, "How much more refreshing would be a draught from the old bucket that hung in my father's well!" Then his wife—whom the poet called his inspiration—exclaimed, "Why, Selim, wouldn't that be a pretty subject for a poem?" Thus urged, he began writing at once, and in an hour's time finished the heart-stirring song so well known as " The Old Oaken Bucket."
At this City Hotel Cooper himself in 1824 founded "The Bread and Cheese Club"—so named because membership was voted for with bits of bread, and against with bits of cheese. He called it the "Lunch." Later on, the "Lunch, or Cooper's Club," met in Washington Hall, corner of Broadway and Chambers Street. Among its distinguished members were Chancellor Kent, DeKay, naturalist, King, later president of Columbia College, the authors Verplanck, Bryant, and Halleck, Morse the inventor, the artists Durand and Jarvis, and Wiley the publisher. They met Thursday evenings, each member in turn caring for the supper, always cooked to perfection by Abigail Jones—an artist of color, in that line. It was at one of these repasts that Bryant "was struck with Cooper's rapid, lively talk, keen observation, knowledge, and accurate memory of details." Said he: "I remember, too, being somewhat startled, coming as I did from the seclusion of a country life, with a certain emphatic frankness of manner, which, however, I came at last to like and admire." Many an attractive page might be written of these talks with Mathews, rambles with DeKay, and daily chats with his old messmates of the sea, and this "Bread and Cheese Club." Cooper was scarcely in France before he sent frequent missives to his friends at the club to be read at their weekly meetings; but it "missed its founder, went into a decline, and not long afterward quietly expired." General Wilson says that it was at Wiley's, corner of Wall and New Streets, in a small back room christened by Cooper "The Den"—which appeared over the door—that he first met "The Idle Man," R.H. Dana. Here Cooper was in the habit of holding forth to an admiring audience, much as did Christopher North about the same time in "Blackwood's" back parlor in George Street, Edinburgh.
WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. John Bartlett's Bookshop, too,—"a veritable treasury of literary secrets,"—in the new Astor House, became a haunt for the bookmen of its times. Cooper was fond of the society of literary men when he could meet them as men, and not as lions. He once said: "You learn nothing about a man when you meet him at a show dinner and he sits up to talk for you instead of talking with you. When I was in London Wordsworth came to town, and I was asked to meet him at one of those displays; but I would not go." Then Mrs. Cooper said: "But you met him afterwards, my dear, and was very much pleased with him." To this Cooper replied: "Yes, at Rogers', and was very much pleased with him; but it was because I met him in a place where he felt at home, and he let himself out freely."
COOPER'S NEW YORK CITY HOME IN BEACH STREET. After some stay on Broadway, Cooper moved his family to their Beach Street abode. Some twenty paces from Hudson it stood,—a brick house of many attractions in the wrought iron railings, marble steps, arched doorway, high ceilings, with heavy, ornate mouldings, massive oaken doors, and Venetian blinds of the deep windows. Spacious and inviting was this city home during the 1820's, in the fashionable district of St. John's. In April, 1823, while living here, Cooper was made a member of the Philadelphia Philosophical Society. August of this year he lost his first son,—the youngest child,—Fenimore; and he himself went through a serious illness, brought on by an accident: "On returning from a New Bedford visit his carriage broke down, and always glad to be afloat, he took passage in a sloop for New York. Being anxious to reach home, when the wind began to fail, and to make the most of the tide, he took the helm and steered the little craft himself through Hell Gate. The day was very stormy, and the trying heat brought on a sudden sun-stroke-like fever." February 3, 1824, his second son, Paul, was born.
"The Spy" finished and the glow of success upon its author, he again resolved "to try one more book." For this work his thoughts turned in love to the home of his childhood, so closely associated with the little "Lake of the Fields." "Green-belted with great forest trees was this 'smile of God'—from Mount Vision dreaming at its feet, to the densely wooded 'sleeping lion' guarding its head, nine miles to the north." Of the new book Cooper frankly said: "'The Pioneers' is written exclusively to please myself." Herein Leatherstocking makes his first appearance, and for all time, as Natty Bumppo, "with his silent footfall stepped from beneath the shadows of the old pines into the winter sunlight."
OLD LEATHERSTOCKING. An old hunter—Shipman by name—often came with his rifle and dogs during the early years of the new colony, to offer his game at William Cooper's door, and was a great attraction for the lads of Otsego Hall. A dim memory of Shipman served as an outline only for Cooper's creation, "Natty," as in strength and beauty of character he came from the writer's pen, to live through the five "Leatherstocking Tales," as "the ever familiar friend of boys." While Cooper placed no real character from life in this book, Judge Temple is accepted as a sketch of his father. The aim was to create a character from the class to which each belonged. Thus served brave old Indian John as "Chingachgook"; Mr. Grant, the missionary; and "Monsieur Le Quoi," the Frenchman. In "Chronicles of Cooperstown" it appears that a real "Mr. Le Quoy excited much interest in the place, in being superior to his occupation as a country grocer." One day a Mr. Renouard, a seaman, entered his shop for some tobacco, and returned in a few minutes agitated and pale, excitedly asking, "Who is the man that sold me this tobacco?" At the answer, "Mr. Le Quoy," he replied, "Yes, Mr. Le Quoy de Mesereau. When I went to Martinique to be port-captain of St. Pierre, this man was civil governor of the island, and refused to confirm my appointment." It was learned later that the French Revolution drove Mr. Le Quoy with little money to a New York friend,—a Mr. Murray,—who also knew well Judge Cooper, and they both advised this country store until peaceful France could and did invite its owner to return to his island home.
An Indian alarm of the early-village period of 1794 formed the opening chapter of the new book, but the incidents were mainly creations of Cooper's fancy. Yet the pigeon-flights, Natty's cave, which sheltered Elizabeth Temple from the forest fire, and each charming picture of the Glimmerglass country, are true to life. The academy, court-house, jail, inn; the "'Cricket'—that famous old cannon which sent its thunders thousands of times over the Otsego hills on days of rejoicing—are fairly given." The old gun was found when digging the cellar of Judge Cooper's first house, and was said to have been buried by troops under Gen. James Clinton, who marched from Albany against the Indians in 1779. They cut their way through forests, brought their boats to Lake Otsego, and their headquarters were in a log house built on the future site of the first Hall. The place where was the old Clinton Dam is now marked by the Daughters of the American Revolution as the one Cooperstown, connecting link with the War of Independence.
The outward appearance of the old Hall is fairly given by Cooper's pen, but once within, all is a faithful record, "even to the severed nose of Wolfe, and the urn that held the ashes of Queen Dido." The tale was of a great landlord living among his settlers on property bearing his name. The book was "The Pioneers, or, Sources of the Susquehanna," and "thirty-five hundred copies sold before noon of the day it was published."
It was of "The Pioneers" that Bryant wrote: "It dazzled the world by the splendor of its novelty."
An interesting incident of Cooper's kindness of heart is of this date and some ten years later came to light as follows: After his return from Europe in 1833 he one day gave to his eldest daughter "a small book bound in boards." It was entitled "Tales for Fifteen, or, Imagination and Heart" by Jane Morgan. He said to her: "Dearie, here is a little book that I wrote for Wiley," adding that he had bought it at a news stand on his way home. It appears "when Wiley failed a number of his patrons wrote stories and gave them to him." These two—one called "Heart" and the other "Imagination" were written by Cooper, but "curiously enough,"—were published under the pen-name of "Jane Morgan." The book is very rare; only two copies are known to be in existence.
CHARLES WILKES.
The thought of writing a romance of the sea first came to Mr. Cooper
while dining at Mr. Charles Wilkes', where the table-talk turned on "The
Pirate," just issued by the author of "Waverley." When his marine
touches were highly praised for their accuracy, Cooper held they were
not satisfactory to the nautical reader. His friends thought more
accuracy might better please seamen but would prove dull reading for the
general public. With his usual spirit, Cooper refused to be convinced,
and on his way home that evening "the outlines of a nautical romance
were vaguely sketched in his mind"; but he never dreamed it would
become one of a series of sea-stories. "I must write one more book—a
sea tale—" he said, "to show what can be done in this way by a sailor!"
The stirring struggles of the American Revolution again enlisted the
author's loyal pen-service in the
character of that bold adventurer,
John Paul Jones, and his cruise in The Ranger, when he made his daring
descent upon Whitehaven and St. Mary's Isle, which suggested to Cooper
his plot for "The Pilot." Two ships, a frigate and the schooner Ariel,
were drawn for the tale. During its writing the author had many doubts
of its success. Friends thought the sea tame when calm, and unpleasant
in storms; and as to ladies—the reading of storms would surely make
them seasick. His first encouragement came from an Englishman of taste,
though a doubter of American talent. To Cooper's
surprise, this
authority pronounced his sea tale good. Then came the favorable opinion
of Commodore Shubrick, of which the author wrote: "Anxious to know what
the effect would be on the public, I read a chapter to S——, now
captain, which contained an account of a ship working off-shore in a
gale. My listener betrayed interest as we proceeded, until he could no
longer keep his seat. He paced the room furiously until I got through,
and just as I laid down the paper he exclaimed: 'It is all very well,
but you have let your jib stand too long, my fine fellow!' I blew it out
of the bolt-rope in pure spite!" And thus it was that when the author
"came beating out of the 'Devil's Grip,'" this old messmate jumped from
his seat and paced the floor with strides, not letting a detail escape
him. Cooper was fully satisfied and accepted the criticism, and the
tale, alive with spirited description of sea-action, won the day. It was
written with all the author's power and accuracy of detail.
JOHN PAUL JONES.
In "Mr.
Gray" appeared John Paul Jones, while "Long Tom Coffin" was said to be
Mr. Irish, the mate of the Stirling, in which the lad "Cooper made his
voyage before-the-mast." Of this mate and the
Yankees the author wrote:
"He too was from Nantucket, and was a prime fellow, and fit to command a
ship." Prof. Brander Matthews calls this simple-hearted cockswain and
Natty Bumppo "co-heirs of time." The famous fifth chapter of "The Pilot"
was the first fiction to show that "a master of the sea tale had come
into the world, and it has never been surpassed in literature of the
sea." This, the third of Cooper's novels, won for him his greatest
popularity. It was dedicated to William Branford Shubrick, United States
Navy—the author's loyal friend since their days together on the Wasp,
in 1809. Its inscription reads in part: "My Dear Shubrick—by your old
Messmate, the Author." A few days after "The Pilot" was issued, January,
1824, Cooper wrote this friend: "I found Wiley had the book in the hands
of his five printers—on my return—for reprint. So much for our joint
efforts." Concerning "The Pilot" and its author, this appeared in the
Edinburgh Review: "The empire of the sea is conceded to him by
acclamation."
LONG TOM COFFIN. Meeting Cooper at dinner three months later, Bryant wrote his wife that "he seemed a little giddy with the great success his works have met." Another said: "What wonder that the hearty, breezy author of 'The Spy,' 'The Pioneers,' and 'The Pilot,' should, by a certain 'emphatic frankness of manner,' have somewhat startled the shy, retiring, country poet who had not yet found his place on The Evening Post!" Later, in 1824, to Richard Henry Dana's newsy letter about Cooper's foreign standing, Bryant replies: "What you tell me of the success of our countryman, Cooper, in England, is an omen of good things. I hope it is the breaking of a bright day for American literature." Bryant's memorial address after Cooper's death remains a splendid record of their unclouded friendship, based on mutual respect. It was delivered at Metropolitan Hall, in New York City, February 25, 1852. The occasion was honored by the presence of the most brilliant men of the time. Daniel Webster presided, assisted by William Cullen Bryant, and Washington Irving. At that time these three men were made the subjects of a pencil sketch by Daniel Huntington.
Mr. George Palmer Putnam thus describes a meeting between Irving and Cooper, after the latter's return from Europe: "One day Mr. Irving was sitting at my desk, with his back to the door, when Mr. Cooper came in (a little bustling as usual) and stood at the office entrance, talking. Mr. Irving did not turn (for obvious reasons), and Cooper did not see him. I had acquired caution as to introductions without mutual consent, but with brief thought—sort of instinct—I stoutly obeyed the impulse of the moment, and simply said, 'Mr. Cooper, here is Mr. Irving.' The latter turned, Cooper held out his hand cordially, dashed at once into an animated conversation, took a chair, and, to my surprise and delight, the two authors sat for an hour, chatting in their best manner about almost every topic of the day and former days; and Mr. Irving afterwards frequently alluded to the incident as being a very great gratification to him. Not many months afterwards, he sat on the platform and joined in Bryant's tribute to the genius of the departed novelist."
September 18, 1851, Irving wrote: "The death of Fenimore Cooper is an event of deep and public concern. To me it comes with a shock; for it seems but the other day that I saw him at Putnam's, in the full vigor of mind and body, 'a very castle of a man.' He left a space in our literature which will not be easily supplied. I shall not fail to attend the proposed meeting."
It is recorded that "Yale never, in later years, saw fit to honor herself by giving Cooper his degree, but Columbia, in this instance more intelligent than either Harvard or Yale, in 1824, conferred on the author the honorary degree of A.M."
LAFAYETTE. When, in 1824, General Lafayette, as the Nation's guest, landed from the Cadmus at Castle Garden, Mr. Cooper made one of the active committee of welcome and entertainment. Of his part in the Castle-Garden ball, and his enthusiasm, a friend wrote: "After working hard all day in preparations and all night in carrying them out, towards dawn he went to the office of his friend Charles King and wrote out a full and accurate report, which appeared in Mr. King's paper the next day." Concerning this famous Castle-Garden ball, Cooper himself wrote: "A tall spar was raised in the center, a vast awning of sail-cloth covered the whole, which was concealed by flags that gave a soft, airy finish—all flooded by lights. Music of the national air hailed Lafayette's arrival. The brilliant throngs and gay dancers over the floor fell into line like a charm, forming a lane, through which the old man passed, giving and receiving warm and affectionate salutations at every step to the small marquee in the midst, prepared for the 'Guest of the Nation.' He was like a father among his children." In various other ways Cooper paid tributes of courtesy to General Lafayette during this visit to America.
JOB PRAY. As the three successful books which the author had now written dealt with the strength and struggles of liberty-loving Americans for their new country, his wide sense of justice suggested writing on loyalty from the other point of view—the Mother Country's—as held by men of birth and honor. This loyalty to England Cooper made the subject of his next book. It was a dangerous venture, and a time too near the dearly-bought laurels of our young republic in its separation from England. But the author made every effort for accuracy on all points; he was tireless in his study of history, state papers, official reports, almanacs, and weather-records. A journey "to Yankee Land" familiarized him with every locality he so faithfully described in the pages of "Lionel Lincoln." "A Legend of the Thirteen Republics" was an added title to the first edition only (1825) of "Lionel Lincoln," for Cooper's intention to write a story of each of the thirteen states was given up later, and the title "A Narrative of 1775" took its place. THE BURNING OF CHARLESTOWN. The author himself was not satisfied with this work, nor with the character of "Lionel Lincoln," whose lack of commanding interest makes "Job," his poor half-witted brother and son of "Abigail,"—a tenant of the old warehouse,—the real hero of the book. Of its author, Bancroft the historian wrote: "He has described the battle of Bunker's Hill better than it has ever been described in any other work." Another high authority says: "'Lionel Lincoln' certainly gives spirited battlepieces—notably the battle of Bunker's Hill, which is a masterpiece." Rhode Island people may care to know that a part of this book was written in Providence, in the home of Mr. John Whipple, which stands on the verge of the old elm trees of College Street. Here, too, Cooper may have studied on the opening scenes of "The Red Rover."
Early spring of 1825 found Fenimore Cooper in Washington, whence he wrote: "I have just witnessed one of the most imposing ceremonies of this government; I allude to the inauguration of the President of the United States." It was that of John Quincy Adams, who succeeded James Monroe. Elsewhere one learns that Cooper had dined at the White House; he gave a description of Mrs. Monroe as first lady of the land.
Up to this year the author had signed his name "James Cooper"; then, in remembrance of his mother's wish, he changed it, and by the April, 1826, act of Legislature the family name became Fenimore Cooper.
HONORABLE MR. STANLEY. During the summer of 1825 Mr. Cooper made one of a party of young men,—which included also the Hon. Mr. Stanley, afterwards Lord Derby, Prime Minister of England, and the Hon. Wortley Montagu, later Lord Wharncliffe, in an excursion to Saratoga and the Lake George country. They went slowly up the Hudson, paid a brief visit to West Point, thence to Catskill, where, like Leatherstocking, they saw "Creation!"—as Natty said, dropping the end of his rod into the water, and sweeping one hand around him in a circle—"all creation, lad." SUNRISE AT SOUTH MOUNTAIN. In the hills they saw the two small ponds, and the merry stream crooking and winding through the valley to the rocks; and the "Leap" in its first plunge of two hundred feet: "It's a drop for the old Hudson," added Natty. The Shakers were called upon in their beautiful valley and neat village at Lebanon; good dinners were eaten at friendly tables in Albany; and gay were the times they had in Ballston and Saratoga. Thence to the Lake George region, its wooded heights, islands, crystal lakes, silent shores. For a while they lingered with delight, then turned back for the dark, still caverns in the heart of Glens Fall. These caverns were, Natty said, "Two little holes for us to hide in." He added, "Falls on two sides of us, and the river above and below!—it would be worth the trouble to step up on the height of this rock and look at the pervarcity of the water. It falls by no rule at all." Within the shadows and silence of these caverns Mr. Stanley suggested to Cooper that "here was the very scene for a romance," and the author promised his friend that a book should be written in which these caves would play an important part. A story of strong Indian make-up first came then to the author's mind. Before leaving, these caverns and the surrounding country were closely examined for future use.
Besides his youthful and Lake Ontario experiences with Indians, Cooper followed parties of them from Albany to New York, and several times to Washington, for the purpose of closely studying their natures and habits; all authorities in print were consulted. On his return home the book was begun and rapidly written. "Planned beneath the summer leaves, on the far shore of picturesque Hell Gate, above smiling fields and bowering orchards of his Angevine home, those leaves had scarcely fallen when the story was told—'the most uniformly exciting and powerful of his fictions'—'The Last of the Mohicans,' and Natty and Chingachgook were left in the wilderness beside the rude grave of Uncas." Again they came into the shadow of the unbroken forest, as called for by the one friend he now constantly consulted,—his faithful, loving life-mate. At the time of its writing Cooper had a serious illness, during which his mind was filled with ideas for this book. Suddenly rousing himself one of these autumn afternoons, he called for pen and paper, but too ill to use them, asked Mrs. Cooper, watching anxiously by his side, to write for him. Fearing delirium, she wrote, thinking it would relieve him. A page of notes was rapidly dictated, which seemed to his alarmed nurse but the wild fancies of a fevered brain. It proved to be a clear account of a lively struggle between "Magua" and "Chingachgook," and made the twelfth chapter of the book. Why the author called Lake George by another name is thus explained: "Looking over an ancient map, he found that a tribe of Indians the French called Les Honcans lived by this beautiful sheet of water, and thinking the English name too commonplace and the Indian name too hard to pronounce, he chose the 'Horican' as better suiting simple Natty." This book, "The Last of the Mohicans," proved, perhaps, to be the most popular of all his works up to 1826.
A present-day man-of-letters writes of Cooper: "He paints Indians and Indian scenes with a glow of our sunset skies and the crimson of our autumn maples, and makes them alive with brilliant color. Rifles crack, tomahawks gleam, and arrows dart like sunbeams through the air. Indians fleet of foot and full of graceful movement are these dusky Apollo's Uncas. Cooper's readers never yawn over these tales of the forest or the sea. He is the swan on the lake, the eagle in the air, the deer in the wood, and the wind on the sea." So writes Prof. Brander Matthews. That life-student of the American Indian, Francis Parkman, wrote: "It is easy to find fault with 'The Last of the Mohicans,' but it is far from easy to rival or even approach its excellence." It is said that "Magua," of this book, "is the best-drawn Indian in fiction; from scalp-lock to moccasin tingling with life" and the tension of the canoe-chase on the Horican.
During this Lake George excursion a question came up between the Hon. Mr. Stanley, the Hon. Wortley Montagu, and Mr. Cooper as to who was the "Premier Baron of England." Cooper named Lord Henry William Fitzgerald (3rd son of James, 1st Duke of Leinster) 22nd Baron de Ros [b. 1761—d. 1829] as his man; whose title came from Henry I., to Peter, Lord of Holderness called Ros. Each of his two friends claimed another as the "Premier Baron of England." All were so confident that a wager was laid, and later inquiry proved Cooper right. In due time the debt was paid with a large gold, silver-filled seal. On its stone—a chrysoprase—appeared a baron's coronet and the old Scottish proverb: "He that will to Cupar maun to Cupar!" The incident serves to affirm Cooper's wide information and accurate memory.
This winter of 1825-26 Cooper and his family made their home at 345 Greenwich Street, not many steps from 92 Hudson Street, where lived the poet William Cullen Bryant, who often went around the corner for a walk with his friend.
General Wilson wrote: "Soon after Bryant went to New York he met Cooper, who, a few days later, said: 'Come and dine with me tomorrow; I live at No. 345 Greenwich Street.' 'Please put that down for me,' said Bryant, 'or I shall forget the place.' 'Can't you remember three-four-five?' replied Cooper bluntly. Bryant did remember 'three-four-five,' not only for that day, but ever afterward."
During this spring Cooper followed a deputation of Pawnee and Sioux Indians from New York to Washington, in order to make a close study of them for future use. He was much interested in the chiefs' stories of their wild powers, dignity, endurance, grace, cunning wiles, and fierce passions. The great buffalo hunts across the prairies he had never seen; the fights of mounted tribes and the sweeping fires over those boundless plains all claimed his eager interest and sympathy, with the resulting desire to place "these mounted tribes" and their desert plains beyond the Mississippi in another Indian story. One of the chiefs of this party—a very fine specimen of a warrior, a remarkable man in every way—is credited with being the original of "Hard-Heart" of "The Prairie," which an authority gives as Cooper's favorite book. On a knoll, and within the glory of a western sunset, stood Natty, born of the author's mind and heart, as he first appeared in this book. "The aged trapper—a nobly pathetic figure contrasted with the squatter"—looms up, colossal, against the gleaming radiance of departing day; and full well he knows his own leaving for the long-home is not far off—for the remarkable life of wondrous Leatherstocking closes within these pages. Of other characters and the author Prof. Matthews says: "He was above all things a creator of character.—He can draw women.—The wife of Ishmael Bush, the squatter, mother of seven stalwart sons and sister of a murderous rascal, is an unforgotten portrait, solidly painted by a master." "The Prairie" was begun in the winter of 1826, in the New York, Greenwich-Street home, while Cooper was under the weather from the old fever effects. The closing of his father's estate, and debts contracted against him by those whom he had helped, emptied his purse and left him a poor man. To meet these calls of honor and his own needs, he wrote when not able to do so, and for a short and only time in his life called in the aid of coffee for his work. Wine he drank daily at dinner only, and he never smoked.
When Cooper followed the Sioux and Pawnee Indians to Washington, in 1826, Henry Clay, Secretary of State, offered him the appointment of United States Minister to Sweden. It was declined in favor of the consulship to Lyons, France, which latter would allow him more freedom and protect his family in case of foreign troubles. With this trip to Europe in view his family busily studied French and Spanish. Returning to New York, Cooper's club gave him a farewell dinner, at which the author said he intended to write a history of the United States Navy. At this dinner he was toasted by Chancellor Kent as "the genius which has rendered our native soil classic ground, and given to our early history the enchantment of fiction."
May 1 the town house was given up for a month of hotel life, and on June
1, at eleven o'clock, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper and their children boarded the
Hudson at Whitehall Wharf for Europe.
THE U.S.S. "HUDSON."
They left a land-squall—their
maid Abigail—ashore and found some rough weather ahead before June 30.
"A fine clear day brought in plain sight ninety-seven sail, which
had
come into the Channel, like ourselves, during the thick weather. The
blue waters were glittering with canvas." A little later Cooper wrote:
"There is a cry of 'Land!' and I must hasten on deck to revel in the
cheerful sight." The Hudson brought up at Cowes, Isle of Wight, July
2, 1826; "after a passage of thirty-one days we first put foot in
Europe," wrote Cooper. In this "toy-town" they found rooms at the
"Fountain," where the windows gave them pretty vistas, and evening
brought the first old-country meal, also the first taste of the famous
Isle-of-Wight butter, which, however, without salt they thought
"tasteless."
WHITEWALL WHARF, 1826.
As eager
newcomers to strange lands, they made several
sight-seeing ventures, among which was enjoyed the ivy-clad ruin of
Carisbrook, the one-time prison of Charles I.
KEEP OF CARISBROOK.
A few days later they
landed on the pier at Southampton, which town is recorded as being
"noted for long passages, bow-windows, and old maids." Here they found
pleasant lodgings, friends, and a sister of Mrs. Cooper's whereby time
was pleasantly passed by the family while Cooper went up to London to
see his publishers. On his return they were
soon aboard the Camilla,
"shorn of one wing" (one of her two boilers was out of order), and on
their way to France. At midnight they were on deck for their first sight
of France; "Land!—of ghostly hue in the bright moonlight, and other
lights glittering from the two towers on the headlands near by." Landing
at the small port of Havre, they had some weary hours of
search before
finding shelter in Hotel d'Angleterre.
HAVRE, BY NIGHT.
By a "skirted wonder" of the
port their luggage soon passed the customs next morning and they were
started for Paris. They were charmed with the dark old sombre,
mysterious towers and fantastic roofs of Rouen, where Cooper bought a
large traveling carriage, in which they safely passed the "ugly dragons"
that "thrust out their grinning heads from the Normandy towns" on the
way to the heart of France. From the windmills of Montmartre they took
in the whole vast capital at a glance.
WINDMILLS OF MONTMARTRE.
A short stay was made at a small
hotel, where soon after their arrival they engaged "a governess for the
girls." She proved to be "
a furious royalist," teaching the children
that "Washington was a rebel, Lafayette a monster, and Louis XVI a
martyr." Under the rule of returned royalists was attempted the
exclusion of even the name of Bonaparte from French history. "My
girls," Cooper wrote, "have shown me the history of France—officially
prepared for schools, in which there is no sort of allusion to him."
Their next venture was
Hotel de Jumièges in a small garden, far from
the Faubourg St. Germain, where they had an apartment of six rooms.
HOTEL DE JUMIÈGES.
THE CONVENT ST. MAUR.
Cooper wrote: "The two lower floors were occupied as a girls'
boarding-school;—the reason for dwelling in it, our own daughters were
in the school; on the second floor there was nothing but our own
apartment." And here, next door to their nun-neighbors of the convent
St. Maur, Cooper wrote the last pages of "The Prairie." It was published
in the autumn of 1826, by Lea and Carey, of Philadelphia.
Cooper was very fond of walking, and to get a general idea of Paris he and Captain Chauncey—an old messmate and officer in the navy—made the circuit of the city walls, a distance of nineteen miles, in four hours. For two hours the captain had Cooper "a little on his quarter." "By this time," Cooper wrote, "I ranged up abeam,"—to find a pinching boot on his friend's foot. Near the finish the mate of this "pinching boot" became "too large," and the captain "fell fairly astern." But without stopping, eating, or drinking, they made the distance in four hours to a minute.
Washington Irving wrote from Madrid the following spring: "I left Paris before the arrival of Cooper, and regret extremely that I missed him. I have a great desire to make his acquaintance, for I am delighted with his novels. His naval scenes and characters in 'The Pilot' are admirable." Cooper soon became known in France by his presence at a dinner given by the U.S. Minister to Canning then in Paris.