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.
[Illustration: JUDGE BAZIL HARRISON OF KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN.]
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."
[Illustration: HON. GERRIT SMITH.]
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!'"
[Illustration: WILLIAM BRANDFORD SHUBRICK.]
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_."
[Illustration: JAMES H. HACKETT.]
This clever but not over-successful farce closed the literary career of
James Fenimore Cooper.
[Illustration: CHARLES MATHEWS.]
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.
[Illustration: STEWART'S MARBLE PALACE.]
[Illustration: MISS SUSAN AUGUSTA COOPER ABOUT 1850.]
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.
[Illustration: OTSEGO LAKE PARTY IN 1840.]
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.
[Illustration: JOE TOM.]
[Illustration: NATTY'S CAVE.]
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.
[Illustration: OTSEGO HALL--BACK VIEW.]
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.
[Illustration: JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.]
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.'"
[Illustration: THE SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE (JENNY LIND).]
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.
[Illustration: JENNY LIND AT CASTLE GARDEN, NEW YORK CITY, 1850.]
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."
[Illustration: DR JOHN WAKEFIELD FRANCIS.]
[Illustration: DR. FRANCIS'S HOME IN NEW YORK CITY.]
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."