Jay's second son, comes, in part, Cooper's graphic description of Dr.
Ellison: "Thirty-six years ago you and I were school fellows and
classmates in the home of a clergyman of the true English school. This
man entertained a most profound reverence for the King and the nobility;
was not backward in expressing his contempt for all classes of
dissenters and all ungentlemanly sects; was particularly severe on the
immoralities of the French Revolution, and, though eating our bread, was
not especially lenient to our own; compelled you and me to begin Virgil
with the eclogues, and Cicero with the knotty phrases that open the
oration in favor of the poet Archias, because these writers would not
have placed them first in the books if they did not intend people to
read them first; spent his money freely and sometimes that of other
people; was particularly tenacious of the ritual and of all decencies of
the Church; detested a democrat as he did the devil; cracked his jokes
daily about Mr. Jefferson, never failing to place his libertinism in
strong relief against the approved morals of George III., of several
passages in whose history it is charitable to suppose he was ignorant;
prayed fervently on Sunday; decried all morals, institutions, churches,
manners but those of England from Monday to Saturday."
The lad from Otsego soon became a prime favorite with his tutor, who
took pleasure in teaching him. The old-fashioned, heroic romances were a
rare delight to him,--a taste which was thought to come from his mother,
who was very fond of such reading. One vacation, at about the age of
eleven, he and a playmate lost themselves in the exciting interest of
such a tale; "Don Belianus of Greece" made so deep an impression on
Cooper that after reading it he said seriously to his playfellow that he
would write a book himself, and would "begin it at once." And, like "Don
Belianus of Greece," this story was to have "knights, and squires, and
horses, and ladies, and castles and banners." With the glory of his
story in mind, the boy had utterly forgotten his hearty dislike of
pen-work at school. But his active brain soon put to flight this
hobgoblin; he thought of the bit of a blue newspaper--the _Otsego
Herald_--printed in Cooperstown by the father of his comrade. So they
planned to use the resting-time of the press for the printing of this
new book, of which, however, only a few chapters were put in type. The
new author soon wearied of his work; but none the less it was the first
step in his future literary career.
During 1801 a man near fifty, cleanly clad in sailor's gear but without
stockings or neckcloth, appeared before Judge Cooper and asked if the
lot between Fenimore and the village was for sale. The answer was, "Yes,
but the price is high," and naming it, the stranger requested that a
deed be made out at once; he counted down the amount in gold, and gave
his name as Esaias Hausman. He had built for himself a small rude house
on this lot and lived alone in it for years. The secrets of his former
life, his wide learning (once found teaching a college president
Hebrew), and disappearance at times, were never solved. Only his death
revealed a purse of gold worn between his shoulder-blades. There was no
will, so to public sale went the little hut and its lake-shore lot. This
man of mystery made a deep impression on Cooper's boy-mind, and later,
in 1838, was the subject of several pages of the author's "Chronicles of
Cooperstown." Then there was James Allen,--a Scotch master-mason,--who
came his way from the "Land o' Cakes" in 1801, and found, as an
employee of Judge Cooper, an opening for his trade, and soon became a
great favorite with the Cooper boys. This master-mason took great pride
in exact work, with which no trifling was permitted. No stone could be
moved but his true eye would detect it in a flash, and wild was the fury
with which his fiery trowel flew for the culprit, and with such
convincing force that it was wise to avoid further meddling with the
"gude mon's" work. Of "Jamie Allen," master-mason and staunch _auld
kirke mon_, many an amusing story is told in Fenimore Cooper's
"Wyandotté, or the Hutted Knoll," written in 1843. These men among
others marked the unusual in Cooper's vacations from Dr. Ellison's
school-rule at Albany. Later in life he wrote a lively memory-sketch of
his tutor, the rector of St. Peter's Church. But the death in 1802 of
this accomplished gentleman sent his pupil--then a stripling of
thirteen--to Yale. He entered the freshman 1802-3 January-term class,
and, "excepting the poet Hillhouse, two weeks his junior, James Cooper
was the youngest student in college." There "his progress in his studies
is said to have been honorable to his talents." And "in the ancient
languages he had no superior in his class."
[Illustration: "NEAR SHORES" OF NEW HAVEN.]
Cooper owned to having learned little at college. When left to his own
bent, his early love for out-of-door life drew him to roam the hills and
explore near shores, and to his first view of the grand old ocean, which
later claimed his tribute of service. For a boyish frolic in his junior
year the lad left Yale, and this incident ended his college career. It
is of record that Judge Cooper took the boy's part against the faculty
version and brought his son home. Yet something from his books James
Cooper must have gleaned, for there is a story of a young sailor who, in
some public place in the streets of an English port, attracted the
curiosity of the crowd by explaining to his companions the meaning of a
Latin motto.
[Illustration: DR. TIMOTHY DWIGHT.]
[Illustration: YALE COLLEGE, 1806.]
[Illustration: WILLIAM JAY IN YOUTH.]
The Albany, school-boy days of William Jay and James Cooper were renewed
at Yale where was welded their strong life-friendship. On the college
roll of their time appear amongst other names that of John C. Calhoun of
South Carolina, and the scholarly poet Hillhouse of New Haven. In the
Dodd, Mead & Company's 1892 issue of "William Jay and the Constitutional
Movement for the Abolition of Slavery," by Bayard Tuckerman, with a
preface, by John Jay, appears a letter dating 1852, written by Judge
William Jay to his grandson. This letter gives graphic glimpses of
Yale College life during the student days there of its writer and James
Cooper: "The resident graduates were denominated 'Sirs'; their place in
Chapel was called 'the Sirs pew'; and when spoken of in college 'Sir'
was always placed before their names. At that time the freshmen
occupied, in part, the place of sizers in the English universities, and
they were required to run errands for the seniors. My room-mate was Sir
Holly (Dr. Horace Holly). As a mere freshman, I looked up to my
room-mate with great respect, and treated him accordingly. About half
past five in winter, the bell summoned us from our beds,--I rose,
generally, before six,--made the fire, and then went, pitcher in hand,
often wading through snow, for water for Sir Holly and myself. Of the
college bell," the letter continues: "at six it called us to prayers in
the chapel. We next repaired to the recitation-rooms and recited, by
candlelight, the lessons we had studied the preceding evening. At eight
we had breakfast,--our meals were taken in a large hall with a kitchen
opening into it. The students were arranged at tables according to their
classes. All sat on wooden benches, not excepting the tutors; the
latter had a table to themselves on an elevated platform whence they
had a view of the whole company. But it was rather difficult for them to
attend to their plates and to watch two hundred boys at the same time.
Salt beef once a day, and dry cod were perhaps the most usual dishes. On
Sunday mornings, during the winter, our breakfast-tables were graced
with large tin milk-cans filled with stewed oysters; at the proper
season we were occasionally treated with green peas. As you may suppose,
a goodly number of waiters were needed in the hall. These were all
students, and many of them among the best and most esteemed scholars. At
nine the bell warned us to our rooms. At twelve it called us to a
recitation or a lecture. After dinner we recommenced our studies for the
third time, at four o'clock. During study hours the tutors would
frequently go the rounds, looking into our rooms to see that we were not
playing truant. Before supper, we all attended prayers in the chapel."
[Illustration: SILHOUETTE OF JAMES COOPER WHEN A STUDENT AT YALE.]
Although, from the necessity of his times, Chief-Justice John Jay was a
slave owner, his son, William--refined, benevolent, pleasing in manner,
but with a temper easily aroused by injustice--became an early, alert,
and strong advocate of the anti-slavery cause. This eminent jurist who
built his life upon the plan of his words, "Duties are ours and
consequences are God's" (as did also Cooper), was graphically addressed
and described by Cooper as "Thou most pugnacious man of peace."
[Illustration: OUTWARD BOUND.]
Leaving Yale to the more studious, no doubt the young man enjoyed this
brief period of home-life and the distinguished guests drawn by its
hospitality to Otsego Hall. Yet even this could not for long hold him
there. Perhaps he was influenced by what he heard from them of the great
outside world, and he, too, wished to see what it was like. As a
stepping-stone to a commission in the navy, Judge Cooper secured a berth
for his son, who shipped as a sailor before-the-mast in the _Stirling_,
of Wiscasset, Maine, John Johnston master and part owner. In the care of
a merchant, young Cooper went down to the docks to look about the ship
and sign the articles, and the next day he returned in his sailor's
garb. The _Stirling_ was taken into the stream, and his new comrades, a
mixture of nations,--four Americans, a Portuguese, a Spaniard, a
Prussian, a Dane, an Englishman, a Scotch boy, and a Canadian,--tumbled
aboard, not quite themselves; but by night they were in working trim.
The young commander was described as "kind and considerate of all
hands," and the ship as "carrying a motley crew." When "all hands" were
called to get the _Stirling_ under way, Cooper, with another boy, was
sent aloft to loose the foretopsail. With eager will he tugged stoutly
at "the robbins," when the second mate appeared just in time to prevent
him from dropping his part of the sail into the top. The good-hearted
mate had a kindly mind for the "new hand," and the men were too busy to
notice small failures aloft. Young Cooper soon found an old salt who
taught him to knot and splice with the best of them, and old Barnstable
was repaid for these lessons by the merry times they had together when
they got ashore. However, with her cargo of flour, the _Stirling_ sailed
from New York in the autumn of 1806 for the English market at Cowes, and
therefore when Cooper should have been taking his class degree at Yale,
he was outward bound on the sea's highway. Being to the manor born did
not admit the sailor before-the-mast to the captain's cabin, but no
doubt the long, rough voyage of forty stormy days did make of the young
man a jolly tar. Through her usual veil of fog came Cooper's first view
of Old England when threatened with Napoleon's invasion. Forty-odd sail
of warships were sighted by the night-watch when the _Stirling_ passed
the straits of Dover at daybreak. They gave the young man an
object-lesson that he never forgot, in the watchfulness and naval power
of Great Britain. The _Stirling_ had but dropped anchor in English
waters when she was boarded by a British man-of-war's boat-crew, and one
of her best hands was forced into the English navy service, and another
sailor barely escaped, he having satisfactory papers. At London a third
hand was lost, and Captain Johnston himself was seized by a press-gang.
[Illustration: GIBRALTAR.]
Finally, in round-jacket and tarpaulin, the future guest of Samuel
Rogers and Holland House, planted his feet on British soil. At London he
saw about everything a gay young fellow of seventeen in sailor's gear
could, of that wonderful city,--or so thought Ned Myers, one of his
shipmates, who was with him most of the time. Concerning these jaunts
Myers says: "I had one or two cruises of a Sunday in the tow of Cooper,
who soon became a branch pilot in those waters about the parks and the
West End, the Monument, St. Paul's and the lions; Cooper took a look at
the arsenal, jewels, and armory [Tower of London]. He had a rum time of
it in his sailor's rig; hoisted in a wonderful lot of gibberish." And
with his fine stories of each day's sights in old London town, the young
sailor would make merry evenings for his forecastle comrades, of whom
it is recorded his strength could lay flat on their backs in two
minutes.
In January the _Stirling_ spread her sails for another stormy
passage,--to the straits of Gibraltar. On running out, the ship was
boarded by a gun-boat officer, who tried to press a Swede; whereupon,
young Cooper thinking it an insult to our flag, began high words with
the Englishman, but was soon silenced by Captain Johnston. The
_Stirling_ met with various stirring adventures, being chased by a
Bay-of-Biscay pirate and rescued by the timely appearance of a British
cruiser. It was thick westerly weather when they ran into the straits,
and as the English fleet was off Cape Trafalgar, Captain Johnston
realized the danger of being run down in the night, and came on deck
during the middle watch for a sharp lookout on the forecastle. Night
orders were given when came the warning, "Sail ho!" and through the
mists and shadows was seen dimly a two-decker bearing directly clown
upon them. The Captain ordered the helm "hard up!" and called Cooper to
"bring a light." With a leap he rushed to the cabin, seized the light,
and in half a minute it was swinging from the mizzen rigging, his
promptness saving the ship. So near were the two vessels that the deck
officer's voice was distinctly heard calling his quarter-master to "port
the helm." As the great mass swept by them she seemed about to crush
their railing with the muzzle of her guns.
While the _Stirling_ was lying off the old Moorish town of Almaria,
Cooper and others were sent ashore in a jolly-boat to boil pitch. To
return to the ship they put off in a heavy sea, knowing it would be
difficult to work through the surf; but orders were orders, and delay
would not help. So off they plunged, when suddenly a breaker "took the
bow of the boat, and lifting her almost on end, turned her keel
uppermost." All hands got safely ashore--how, none could tell. A second
launching resulted as the first, but with a third they succeeded in
forging their way out, and boarded the ship. Later they ran short of
provisions. But the _Stirling's_ return cargo was brought back safely to
London, where the ship lay at anchor for two months or more, and then
sailed in July for America. After a voyage of fifty-two days she dropped
anchor at Philadelphia, September 18, 1807. So much for this good ship
named for Stirling Castle of Bonnie Scotland.
Such were the lessons young Cooper learned in this rough but manly
school. A brother officer who knew him well said, "He was active,
prompt, and efficient, a pleasant shipmate, always ready to do his duty,
and rigorous too in exacting it of others." Of Cooper's "Naval History"
was added, "It is the noblest tribute ever paid to a noble profession."
Aboard the _Stirling_ on these several cruises Cooper learned much that
afterwards appeared in his sea tales. It was of this sea-service that he
wrote, "I have been myself one of eleven hands, officers included, to
navigate a ship of three hundred tons across the Atlantic Ocean; and,
what is more, we often reefed topsails with the watch." Of the
_Stirling_ he wrote, "The ship was on a bow-line most of the time"; and
he thought her "one of the wettest ships that ever floated when heading
tip against the sea." A lively account of this eleven months' service is
found in Cooper's story of "Ned Myers." This life of his shipmate aboard
the _Stirling_ was written in 1843. The old salt was a battered hulk in
the "Sailor's Snug Harbor" when Cooper was on the crest of the wave of
his literary fame, and the old sailor, wondering if this Cooper could be
the comrade of his youth in the _Stirling_ days of yore, wrote, after
the twenty-five years of separation, to inquire. The answer was, "I am
your old shipmate, Ned." Later, "Ned" was invited to visit the Hall.
Many remember the interesting two in 1843. "Hardly a day passed that
they were not seen, as the heavy Hall gates swung open at eleven
o'clock, coming out for a morning walk or a sail on the lake;--Cooper's
portly form, and by his side a shriveled figure with halting step,
leaning heavily on a crooked stick which served for a cane. They were as
strong in contrast as it was possible for men to be." It was during this
visit that the old sailor spun his life-yarn in his own way and Cooper
wove it into his book, "Ned Myers."
[Illustration: SAILOR'S SNUG HARBOR.]
Perhaps the following interesting Cooperstown story of Cooper's youth
is of the time of his return from his _Stirling_ voyage. One day a merry
group of young men proposed a footrace, the course to be around the
square--a distance of about one hundred yards. James Cooper was named as
one of the runners, and his rival was soon chosen. According to custom,
the village boys, girls, men, and women were spectators. Like a
mettlesome steed in curb young Cooper looked at the wager,--a basket of
fruit,--then at his race-mate, and accepted the challenge, but not on
even terms. It was not enough for a sailor simply to outrun a landsman;
he could do more. A little girl stood near, her bright face eager with
watching for the fray. Cooper turned quickly and caught her up in his
arms, and with the pride and muscle of an athlete exclaimed, "I'll carry
her with me and beat you!" Away they flew, Cooper with his laughing
burden upon his shoulders; one corner was turned, and the excited crowd
saw with surprise James Cooper with his small rider keeping pace with
the other flying youth. Another, and the other corners were soon passed;
both sprang like race-horses near the end of the course, but Cooper,
with his little black-eyed girl aloft and the perspiration pouring down
his manly brow and cheeks, was the first to reach the mark, and amidst
such cheers and hurrahs as only pioneers can freely give, and as freely
enjoy. The fruit he had won, but soon it was shared by all around. That
little girl, later the wife of Captain William Wilson, often told the
story of her ride on pleasant James Cooper's shoulders.
[Illustration: OTSEGO HALL GATES.]
While never a rhymester, Cooper, in his early manhood and at rare times
after, did write occasional sentimental and comic verses that betokened
both clever imagination and other merit. Into the _Otsego Herald_
printing-office a poor epileptic ballad-singer came one day to ask help
from a group of gentlemen A purse was made up for him, but he, looking
among them, said if one of them would write for him "a few
verses--something new"--they would be worth more than the silver given
him. Young Cooper offered to try, and asked on what subject he should
write "There's nothing sells like ballads," was the reply. So the ballad
was promised; and some thirty or more pathetic verses were written at
once, about the small frontier village recently burnt by troops under
Colonel Murray during the close of the last war with England. This
ballad bore the high-sounding title of "Buffalo Burnt, or the Dreadful
Conflagration." It won such success among the farm-house gentry that
the singer returned for another ballad and obtained it. Some years later
Mr. Cooper was invited to a tea-party in a near village, when a young
lady, led to the piano for music, began to sing, much to the author's
disturbing amazement, "Buffalo Burnt, or the Dreadful Conflagration."
[Illustration: BUFFALO BURNT.]
So passed the pleasant vacation days of our young sailor, whose training
before-the-mast enabled his father to obtain for him a midshipman's
commission in the United States Navy, for which James Cooper reported
for duty at New York City, January 12, 1808. At the age of nineteen he
first served aboard the _Vesuvius._ Thence he was ordered to Oswego, New
York, to build the brig _Oneida_ for Lake Ontario service, and which the
spring of 1809 saw launched.
[Illustration: THE "VESUVIUS."]
[Illustration: ONTARIO FORESTS.]
While the war flurries which called for the building of the vessel were
tethered, Cooper had learned his lesson in ship-building, ship-yard
duties, and water-border life; and these served him more than thirty
years later in his matchless Indian story, "The Pathfinder." Miss Susan
Cooper has left some interesting pages of this period of her father's
naval service; in part they read: "In 1808 several young officers under
Lieutenant Woolsey were ordered to the shores of Lake Ontario for
building a small vessel of war. Among them was Mr. Cooper, then a
midshipman in the service. Their road lay for many a mile through the
forest to the mouth of the Oswego River,--their destination,--where the
_Oneida_, a brig mounting sixteen guns, was built and launched. They
enjoyed the wild coloring of frontier life They roamed the forests and
explored the shores in leisure hours. Cruises among the Thousand Islands
were frequent; many were the fine fish caught and good chowders eaten.
The picturesque beauties of the region, the countless islands, were
greatly enjoyed and never forgotten by the young midshipman." The
youthful officers were ordered to Buffalo, and stopping for the night at
a rude frontier inn, it was Cooper's duty to inquire what they might
have for supper. "Mine host shook his head ruefully; he could promise
very little. 'Give us what you eat yourself; you must have food of some
kind,' said Cooper. Mine host looked melancholy; on his honor he assured
the young officers he had absolutely nothing to set before them but
game, steak, and brook-trout; and, maybe his wife could find cranberries
for a tart! A month earlier they should have had a dish of fried pork
fit for the President, with a pumpkin pie after it. 'Game's plenty, but
nothin' else!' added the publican with a sigh. Mine host was pining for
pork! On this expedition Mr. Cooper saw Niagara for the first time. He
was struck with the grandeur of the cataract, but felt its sublime
character far more deeply on a later visit--after his return from
Europe."
[Illustration: THE THOUSAND ISLANDS.]
[Illustration: THE PORT OF BUFFALO.]
When the _Oneida_ was launched the gallant young officers resolved to
celebrate the event by giving a ball. "This was an enterprise of a
desperate character;--building a brig hundreds of miles from a ship-yard
was a trifle to giving a ball in the wilderness. True, one fiddle and
half a dozen officers were something; refreshments and a military
ball-room might be hoped for; but where, pray, were the ladies to come
from?" They would not think of dancing with each other, and ladies must
be found. Vigorous efforts were made by sending boats in some directions
and carts miles in others, to invite the ladies; and they accepted. As
the hour drew near a very delicate point came up for decision--the
honors due different fair claimants. After a council of war, Lieutenant
Woolsey gave to his master-of-ceremonies these orders: "All ladies, sir,
provided with shoes and stockings are to be led to the head of the
Virginia reel; ladies with shoes, and without stockings, are considered
in the second rank; ladies without shoes or stockings you will lead,
gentlemen, to the foot of the country dance!" Such was a grand military
ball in Oswego County in 1808-9.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN M.T. WOOLSEY.]
About this time occurred an amusing incident of their raw young
mess-servant, fresh from Ireland: "A table-cloth had taken fire and was
in full blaze; Paddy was at the moment filling a teapot from an ample
kettle in his hand. 'Pour the water on the table!' called out one of the
officers. 'Sure, the wather is _hot_, your honor!' exclaimed Paddy, in
great dismay, holding the kettle at a very safe distance from the
blazing cloth, and his face such a picture of helpless despair as to
make Mr. Cooper heartily laugh at every after-thought of it."