Himtteb Ittterre&s Cbttton

This edition of The Legends and Traditions of a Northern County is limited to 600 copies, printed from type, and the type distributed.

THE LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS

OF A

NORTHERN COUNTY

THE LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS

OF A

NORTHERN COUNTY

JAMES FENIMORE COOPER

COOPERSTOWN, MAY, 1920

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK AND LONDON

Cbe fmlcfterbocfcet ptesa

1821

Copyright, 1921

by James Fcnimore Cooper

Printed in the United States of America

THESE SKETCHES ARE DEDICATED TO

MY FOUR SONS

IN MEMORY OF MANY

HAPPY DAYS SPENT WITH THEM

IN

"OLD OTSEGO"

FOREWORD

THIS is not a history nor, strictly speaking, merely Legends and Traditions ; it is less than the former and perhaps more than the latter. The facts are correctly stated where given, the anecdotes and legends are repeated as told to me by members of an older genera- tion, and my own experience and impressions are truly set forth.

The whole was written with the hope of preserving for future generations of my family the life and the thoughts of people living under conditions which are gone forever, and of creating in the minds of its readers the atmosphere in which they lived, struggled, died, and were buried.

It is written in compliance with repeated requests of my four sons, in fulfillment of my promise to each of them, and with the hope that it may foster in those of my descendants who may read it a love of the beau- tiful country with which their ancestors have been so closely associated for generations. If it does this, and perhaps induces them to familiarize themselves to a greater extent with the history of the town and county and State, I shall feel that it is well done.

J. F. C.

COOPERSTOWN,

May, 1920

vii

AN INTRODUCTION

IN 1612, three years after Hendrick Hudson came to Albany, and eight years before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock, two Dutch explorers came up the Mohawk from Albany (Fort Orange), crossed over the hills to Otsego Lake, and went down the Susquehanna Valley. They undoubtedly stopped at the Indian village which then occupied the site of Cooperstown, and were the first white men known to visit this coun- try. They filed a map of their wanderings in Amster- dam, where it was found a few years ago.

Probably an occasional white man, priest or trader, visited Otsego Lake during the next century, but no settlement was attempted until Rev. John Christopher Hartwick, a Lutheran minister, thinking the lake was on his patent, started one about 1761. He abandoned it on finding that his line ran a mile or two further south. A little later, in 1770, came George Croghan, Sir Wm. Johnson's successor as Indian agent, and one of the patentees of the tract of 109,000 acres on which the lake and town are situated, and built a log house and outbuildings, and lived here with his family until just before the Revolution.

x &n Sntrotiuction

During the war the red Indians under Brant and the more brutal blue-eyed ones under Butler made this lonely spot unsafe for settlers, and it was abandoned to the wilderness.

In 1779 Gen. Clinton with his troops, on their ex- pedition to punish the Six Nations, camped here for several weeks, built a dam at the source of the Susque- hanna, broke it, and went down on the flood.

Again the wilderness closed in on the vestiges of the settlement, until, in 1785, William Cooper arrived on horseback with his gun and fishing rod. He camped on the spot, returned to his home in Burling ton, and bought about 50,000 acres, including the present village site. The next year he started a settlement and a few years later brought his family and servants from Burlington, N. J., and lived here until his death in 1809.

The town, known first as "Foot of the Lake," then as ' 'Cooper ton, " and "Coopers Town, " and for a short period as "Otsego," finally settled down to the "Coopers- town" of to-day.

CONTENTS

PAGE

AN INTRODUCTION ix

EARLY SETTLEMENTS AND SETTLERS ... 3

LOCAL NOMENCLATURE 17

THE FOUR CORNERS 28

GHOSTS— OURS AND OTHERS .... 40

A GRAVEYARD ROMANCE — A TRAGEDY AND A SCANDAL 6 1

SOME ABANDONED HOUSES 78

THE RED — THE BLACK — AND THE WHITE MAN . 88

A GREAT HIGHWAY 113

A LOST ATMOSPHERE 121

SOME OLD LETTERS 136

TODDSVILLE 195

JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 201

OTSEGO HALL 223

INTRODUCTION TO A GUIDE IN THE WILDERNESS . 233

NOTES

WILLIAM COOPER 247

SIR WILLIAM JOHNSON 257

"TANGIER" SMITH 259

THE LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS

OF A

NORTHERN COUNTY

Heoenbs anb TTrabitions of H IRortbern County

EARLY SETTLEMENTS AND SETTLERS

THE Colony of New York was unlike any of the other colonies and states in the manner of its early settlement and the character of its land holdings.

When the Dutch West Indies Company began the settlement of the vast territory, which eventually shrank to the Colony of New York, it conveyed great tracts of land to patroons, who had to furnish a certain number of settlers to make good their title. Within the limits of their grants these patroons had great and autocratic powers.

When the English took over the colony all these grants were confirmed and eventually erected into manors. For years the English continued to grant great tracts of land as manors. In this way Long Island, Westchester County, and the Hudson Valley to a point above Troy were settled.

The difference between ordinary grants of land,

3

4 Hegente of a ^tortfjetn Countp

such as were made later in the Colony of New York and in other colonies, and manorial grants was legally a technical but in reality a very real one. The Lord of the Manor had autocratic power over his tenants within the Manor; he held courts, civil and criminal; he could punish his tenants as he had "The high justice, the middle justice and the low." In fact, generally speak- ing, he stood between his tenantry and the colonial or home government. Since the I3th century, there have been no manors erected in England. There were no others in this country except a few small ones in Maryland and one doubtful one in New England, and perhaps one or two in the south.

The grantees or lords of these manors built their manor houses and lived in royal style on their domains, surrounded by their tenantry. In this way there grew up in the Colony of New York a great landed aristoc- racy which had no equal anywhere else in this country. Some of the manors were enormous. Tangier Smith's Manor of St. George was originally fifty miles wide on the ocean and sound and of that width across Long Island.

The Van Rensselaer Manor at Albany was twenty- four miles on either side of the Hudson and forty-eight miles east and west. The Patroon had a fort on Baeren Island at the beginning of his lands and made every boat which went up or down the Hudson salute his flag.

Carlp Settlement* anb Settler* 5

There was an attempt to create a manor in the lower Mohawk Valley, but its immense size caused such an outcry that it was abandoned, and no more were created. I think that, all told, there were twelve manors in the State, and one great patroonship never erected into a manor. Later lands were granted in great tracts but without manorial rights in the patentees. The land grants followed the important streams first and then filled in the less valuable land lying away from the navigable waters.

Among these patents were those about Coopers- town. The great Croghan or Cooper Patent (1769) con- tained one hundred thousand acres and nine thousand additional for roads. It ran from about the point where the Oaks Creek joins the Susquehanna up along the west bank of the river to Otsego Lake; along the entire west shore of the lake to where the little stream which runs in front of Swanswick empties into the lake ; then a long arm ran off toward Springfield Center and back and the line ran west crossing Sehuyler's Lake, and thence west beyond Whar ton's Creek and down to a line running west from the village of Mt. Vision and south of Gilbert Lake; then back to above the Village of Hartwick and off east to the place of beginning.

Judge Cooper had about forty-five or fifty thousand acres of it in all; but immediately parted with about fifteen hundred.

6 Hegenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

In our neighborhood there were also the Miller Patent, upon which Fynmere stands, of thirty thousand acres; a part of this, I think about ten thousand acres, came to the Bowers family ; the Hartwick Patent, south of the Cooper (1761), containing twenty-one thousand five hundred acres; the Springfield Patent, upon which Hyde Hall stands, with eighteen thousand acres; the Butler Patent of forty-seven thousand; the Otego, with sixty-nine thousand and the Morris with thirty- three thousand. In all of these, with the possible ex- ception of the Miller and Morris, Judge Cooper was heavily interested.

Some purchasers took large tracts out of these patents, and they were the ones who, with the paten- tees, built the great houses which are scattered over the countryside. It was from the owners of these vast tracts of land that the villages took their names : Cooperstown, Morris, Gilbert sville, and Sangerfield got their names in this way.

Of one of the patents on the Susquehanna an interest- ing story is told. Before the Colony would grant any land, the would-be purchaser had to acquire the Indian title. The tale runs that among Sir William Johnson's Indian guests at dinner one day was Red Jacket, a famous Seneca Chief. Sir William happened to be wearing a new uniform just received from Eng- land; Red Jacket eyed it enviously and the next

Carlp Settlement* anb Settler* 7

morning said to Sir William: "Quider, I dreamed a dream last night." Sir William asked, with sinking heart, "And what did you dream?" "I dreamed that you gave me that red coat you wore yesterday." Sir William well knowing Indian etiquette, passed over the uniform and Red Jacket went away proud and happy.

In the fall Sir William made his usual annual trip among the Indian villages and spent a night with Red Jacket. In the morning he said, "Red Jacket, I dreamed a dream last night." Poor Red Jacket asked him what he had dreamed, and Sir William replied: "I dreamed that you gave me thirty thousand acres of land." Red Jacket said nothing, but looked solemn and no doubt considered the price high for the "Red Coat." However, in due time he arrived at Mount Johnson with an Indian deed for 30,000 acres of land which he handed to Sir William with the remark: "Quider, do not dream again."

The facts were forgotten, and the story was con- sidered a pretty legend of Indian customs, until there was found, in the Otsego County Clerk's office, the deed of a lot of land, described as being "In Sir William Johnson's Dreamland Tract." This located the land as lying along the Susquehanna not far from Unadilla.

There was one celebrated settlement planned, but never made, on the banks of the Susquehanna ; in 1794

8 Hesenb* of a JBtortijern Count?

Coleridge and Southey, at Oxford, organized the ' ' Pantisocracy , " which was to found a Utopia on "the banks of that river in America with the beauti- ful name — Susquehanna." Robert Lovell joined the Pantisocrats and the plan was developed. They found three enthusiastic maidens willing to venture to the Susquehanna; Coleridge and Lovell married two of them and Southey became engaged to the third.

The men were to till the soil and write; the women were to care for the homes and the children; and all were to converse. Everything was arranged for ex- cept the necessary money. To raise this Coleridge and Southey lectured and wrote. Unfortunately the scheme never materialized and the banks of the Sus- quehanna only benefitted to the extent of having a small club named for the "Pantisocrats" over a century later.

Other legends cling to the river, and other settlements grew up; some of them commercial only like Phoenix; some educational like Hartwick Seminary, founded by John Christopher Hartwick, the Lutheran minister, in the early iQth century and still prosperous; and some like Unadilla beautiful only, alike in name and location.

There is a story about a settlement at or near Una- dilla which illustrates the rough and ready life of the days when this country was new. They were the times when virile men lived and struggled, drank, fought, and

(Earlp Settlement* anb Settler* 9

died young, crowding the activities of a long life into a short one.

One day, years ago, I met, gossiping with the two artists P and T , whose story I have told else- where, a third old man. When my name was men- tioned, he laughed and said, "We ought to be friends as my grandfather knew Judge Cooper and once threw him in a wrestling match." Of course I was interested and he told me the following tale : He came from Una- dilla and his people had been among the early settlers there. The land they lived on and were cutting out of the wilderness, either belonged to Judge Cooper or he was agent for it. There came a bad year; the crops failed and the settlers could not meet their payments of rent or the installments on account of the purchase of the land. A public meeting was called and, as the result, one of them was chosen to go to Cooperstown and present their cause to Judge Cooper. The delegate was my informant's grandfather. He started on the long, sixty-mile trip to Cooperstown, while the settlers anxiously waited. He found Judge Cooper at home and stated his case, no doubt eloquently, for when he had finished the Judge said: "You think you are some- thing of an athlete, I think the same of myself, suppose we try a wrestling bout ; if I throw you, your clients must find a way to pay ; if , on the other hand, you throw me, I will give you a receipt in full for the whole settlement."

io Hegenfc* of a Jlortfjent Count?

The bargain was struck, the furniture moved aside, and the wrestlers closed with one another.

The Lord was with the suffering settlers and their champion smote the Judge hip and thigh and laid him on his back on the library floor. True to his word, he wrote out the receipt and the champion returned tri- umphant to his anxious neighbors. There is no record of what this fall cost Judge Cooper.

From this and other anecdotes one can understand why he was such a popular and successful maker of settlements.

Within the limits of the so-called Cooper Patent are, besides the Village of Cooperstown, Fly Creek, Summit, Toddsville, Bourne, Oaksville, Schuylers Lake, Patent, Snowden, Burlington Green, Burlington Flats, West Burlington, Hell Town, Garretsville, New Lisbon, Welcome, Lena, Wharton, Edmeston, Lows Mills, and Fall Bridge.

Lows Mills, one of the oldest settlements on the Patent, was made where Swanswick now stands and the little pond in front of it is the old mill pond.

The actual earliest settlement, with the exception of Hartwick's mistaken beginning on the Lake, was George Croghan's at Cooperstown; but this was aban- doned just before the Revolutionary War, although one at least of the buildings was standing when William Cooper came in 1785.

ibettlentente anb feettler* n

The following is a verbatim copy of the earliest letter which I know of from a settler on the lake. Where the writer was living, I do not know, but think that it must have been somewhere near the locality of what was later called Lows Mills. If Mr. Hicks had been half as ingenious in other ways as he was in misspelling, his fame would have lived until to-day and his home in 1773 would now be known to all.

Lake Otsago October 3th 1773 SIR

I imbrace this opertunity to lett you know that my Family is in good helth & wish these lins will find you & your Lady in the same we hed the new by a chance news paper which plesed mutch & we all wish you joy/ the Settlement gos on flourishing "will soon becom a fine Countrey/ Year is a grate maney welthy men is willing to become Settlers as soon as they can know the seling price of the Land/ the Settlers at the Butternuts hath made a good opening & as taken som of thir Fameies out this Sum- mer/ I have sold my Land at the Butter nuts & am going to settel at the Adgo manesty ware with me all winter & provednot with Folewhich I amsorrey for/ Nathenel Edwards as had him at the Adego all this sumor/ Thomas Wise will Inform you how af airs goe on hear/ I have a mind to com down my self if my Busnis will permit/ I have had verey bad luck this Sumor with my Cattel I have lost i Cow & 4 Calve & i Horse/ my Crop of wheat & my Ry Sufferd verey mutch by a hale storm/ the stons of which ware Seven Inches Round but Hope with the help of Providence I shall make out til my next Crop corns in/ Sir if I can be of aney sarvis to you in this part of the worls I shall be

12 Hejjenfcg of a JBtortfjern County

verey Redy to Sarve you to the utmost of my Power/ Hear is a better understanding betwen us that came up first to what it wars wen we first com hear but I have Sufferd verey mutch in my Carecter & Pocket/ but I hope you are all convincd of what as been said to be false/ my Wife is verey well satsified hear & Rembers hir Kind Respeck to your Spous & all your f amely so I remain your

Humbel Sarvant

JOHN HICKS.

N.B. Thomas Wise as been at work this two Sommers for Nathenel Edwards ware to hve Land Cleared by this fawl according to agreement but Thomas Seeing no likley- wood of his performing his promis thought of aplying to you to help him forward pray dont let Nahanel now I have mentend aney thing concarning him for I want now ill blood.

One cannot help feeling grateful that the "hale stones" have not grown in the past hundred and fifty years.

The great patent as appears on the old maps was eventually subdivided among the following owners:— C. P. Low 7,500 (Prevost and Gary), V. P. Dow 12,000, C. Golden 14,000, Vanveeler & Lansing 1,500, G. Bowne 1,500, Verree 1,500, J. Lonston 1,500, E. Wells 9,000, R. Smith 4,000, H. Hill 2,000, John Cox and daughter 6,000, Susanna Dilwing 6,000. The balance came to Judge Cooper and Andrew Craig, of which 1,500 acres went to one Ellis. Cooper bought out Craig in 1798. Susanna Dilwing and Hill called their tract Bloomfield

Settlements anti Settlers 13

after a governor of Pennsylvania. Eighteen thousand acres of the Butler patent was known as Hillington after its owner, one H. Hill.

This is Mohawk country and the Indians who lived at or near the foot of the lake belonged to that tribe, the fiercest and perhaps the greatest of North American Indians. They kept the eastern door of the Long House of the Six Nations. Hendrick and Brant were chiefs of the tribe. Over Hannah's Hill ran one of their war trails to the south which quite recently could be ea sily followed. It was about eight inches wide and six deep, worn by innumerable moccasined feet travelling single file through the centuries.

While we cannot actually claim it as a local story, the hero of an Indian tale, which Governor Seymour was fond of telling, may have lived in our Indian village or hunted and fished here ; or helped wear the trail over Hannah's Hill, and thus give it a sufficiently local color to justify repeating it: Among the tribes which were held subject by the Six Nations was one on Long Island. One year they declined to pay the annual tribute of wampum. A council of the Six Nations was held and a Mohawk chief delegated to visit the rebellious tribe and enforce payment. Alone he went down through the hostile country to the chief village of the subject tribe. A council was called to hear his message. When it was assembled, he asked who had advised not paying

14 Hegenb* of a JBtortfjent Count?

the tribute. A chief arose. The Mohawk stepped up to him and brained him with his tomahawk saying, ' ' This will teach you not to disregard the orders of your masters." He returned unmolested to his native village and the tribute was paid.

Governor Seymour, a great admirer of the Six Na- tions, used to add: "There is nothing finer in Roman History."

It may not be out of place to repeat here the follow- ing quotation from Judge Cooper's account of his settlement of this country, written in 1807 for William Sampson and published in Dublin in 1810 under the title of A Guide to the Wilderness.

In 1785 I visited the rough and hilly country of Otsego, where there existed not an inhabitant, nor any trace of a road; I was alone, three hundred miles from home, without bread, meat, or food of any kind; fire and fishing tackle were my only means of subsistence. I caught trout in the brook and roasted them in the ashes. My horse fed on the grass that grew by the edge of the waters. I laid me down to sleep in my watch coat, nothing but the melancholy Wilderness around me. In this way I explored the country, formed my plans of future settlement, and meditated upon the spot where a place of trade or a village should afterwards be established.

At what he considered the close of his career, at the age of fifty-four years he wrote as follows :

Car Ip Settlements anb Settlers 15

I began with the disadvantage of a small capital, and the encumbrance of a large family, and yet I have already settled more acres than any man in America. There are forty thousand souls now holding, directly or indirectly, under me, and I trust that no one amongst so many can justly impute to me any act resembling oppression. I am now descending into the vale of life, and I must acknowl- edge that I look back with selfcomplacency upon what I have done, and am proud of having been an instrument in reclaiming such large and fruitful tracts from the waste of the creation. And I question whether that sensation is not now a recompense more grateful to me than all the other profits I have reaped. Your good sense and knowledge of the world will excuse this seeming boast; if it be vain (we all must have our vanities), let it at least serve to show that industry has its reward, and age its pleasures, and be an encouragement to others to persevere and prosper.

One other quotation has a personal touch which justifies its insertion here. It is from a letter written by James Fenimore Cooper in 1833 or 4, giving an account of his first trip to Cooperstown after his return from Europe. He describes the changes along the Mohawk Valley and says :

On returning to the inn I made an arrangement to go in the same car with Mrs. Perkins and her party to Schenec- tady, and thence to this place in an extra, which is a sort of posting. We were well served, no delay, not longer than in France a hundred miles from Paris, and got here, 56 miles from Albany, at six o'clock. This place is redolent of youth. It is now sixteen years since I was here. Roof's

1 6 Hegetrtig of a Jlortfjern Count?

tavern, which I remember from childhood is still standing, altered to Murray's, and the road winds round it to mount to Cherry Valley as in old times. But the house is no longer solitary. There is a village of some six or eight hundred souls, along the banks of the canal. The bridges and boats, and locks give the spot quite a Venetian air. The bridges are pretty and high, and boats are passing al- most without ceasing. Twenty certainly went by in the half hour I was on them this evening. I have been up the ravine to the old Frey house. It looks as it used to in many respects, and in many it is changed for the worse. The mills still stand before the door, the house is, if anything, as comfortable and far finer than formerly, but there is a dis- tillery added, with a hundred or two of as fat hogs, as one could wish to see. I enjoyed this walk exceedingly. It recalled my noble looking, warm hearted, witty father, with his deep laugh, sweet voice, and fine rich eye, as he used to lighten the way, with his anecdotes and fun. Old Frey with his little black peepers, pipe, hearty laugh, broken English, and warm welcome was in the back ground. I went to the very spot, where one of the old man's slaves amused Sam and myself with the imitation of a turkey, some eight and thirty years since; an imitation that no artist has ever yet been able to supplant in my memory.

LOCAL NOMENCLATURE

SOME of the names of roads and places about Coopers- town are interesting and already their origin is lost in the past.

Of the hills we have " Hannah's Hill" named for Hannah Cooper; and Mt. Vision, opposite to it, named by Judge Cooper, I believe. Down to the southeast of Red Creek we have Eggleston Hill, named from the family that settled on it; then moving north, up the east side of the Red Creek Valley,— Hell Hill, from the difficulty of climbing it; Murphy Hill, from the family that lived at its base in the Cherry Valley; Johnnie Cake Hill and next Sweet Ireland, the latter the north- erly part of Johnnie Cake; Sweet Ireland came from the settlement of Irish which has about disappeared, but Johnnie Cake no one to-day can explain.

Of the roads — the Cornish Road runs up from Bowerstown (Dogtown) and over to the Cherry Valley toward the south. Nothing is known of the origin of this name; there may have been a family of Cornishes living on or near it when settlers were few and the roads took the names of the adjoining land owners; there is no town of the name anywhere near; or the great beauty

2 17

1 8 Hesenb* of a Jfrortftern Count?

of the view from it may have recalled to the mind of some traveled resident the beauty of the Cornice Road and who suggested, half in jest, calling it that, easily cor- rupted to Cornish.

To the north are the Murphy Hill Road and the Sweet Ireland Road. From Red Creek Farm No. 2, there branches off to the east the road known as "Pink Street," why or wherefore no one can tell.

"Stoney Lonesome" tells its own tale; it is in the shallow hollow of the hills between Lentsville, in the Red Creek Valley, and the Lake. The old house has completely disappeared and the roads running through the hollow, one of them the "Mosquito Road," have been abandoned and closed. Going to it from either of the eastern approaches via Middlefield Center or Lentsville, the road passes large and once prosperous farmhouses, now abandoned to the fate which has al- ready overtaken the Stoney Lonesome house and many of its contemporaries.

The roads grow rougher and more difficult to follow until they become impassable or are fenced off. The trip across, an attractive one twenty-five years ago, can now only be made on foot or horseback. This secluded, shallow, bowl-shaped valley among the hilltops has all the wonderful charm of the country; the rough fields overgrown with a great variety of colored weeds; the low wooded hills; the abandoned fences and almost

Hocal J^omenclature 19

vanished evidences of occupation unite to make the spot not only "Lonesome" but beautiful. The lay of the land and the ever-changing color of the clearing fill the eye, while the loneliness and vanishing evidences of cultivation appeal to the imagination. One wonders why, scores of years ago, any settler had the courage to clear the fields and build the often great farmhouses. Conditions of life were harder then, when all this labor was expended, than they were when the places were abandoned and fell to ruins.

Near Stoney Lonesome is Eagle Hill, with a marvel- ous view of the country, but the abandonment of the roads and the growth of the trees has long made it in- accessible and now even its location is forgotten.

On the other side of the lake, almost opposite, and close to the short road from Cooperstown to Richfield, is "Rum Hill" — in these more polite and prohibition days called "Mount Otsego." The story runs that, at a conference between the early settlers and the Indians, a barrel of rum figured as the consideration of a proposed sale. A disagreement arose, and some one pushed the barrel over the edge of the hill. It bounded from ledge to ledge and finally breaking, spilled the precious fire water over the hillside.

Further to the west is Angel Hill, named for the family that once owned much of it ; and one can wander from point to point all over the countryside finding

20 ICesetttig of a Jlortfjern County

curious and interesting local names. At the head of the lake is the "Sleeping Lion," sometimes called Mt. Wellington. Its original name was Mt. Millington, but when George Clarke built Hyde Hall, he found it easy to change * 'Millington" to "Wellington" in honor of his friend and schoolmate. The extreme southern point of this hill is the "Shad Cam," left by Judge Cooper to the youngest Elizabeth Cooper living in 1850. Alas, she never got it, as long before that date the owner of the adjoining land had pulled down the fence and claimed the point.

The "Shad Cam" was given its name by the Cooper boys of a hundred years ago. Even in those days the lake was infested by lying fishermen. One of them, of Scotch descent, used to boast, as they still do, of the fishing of his youth, and finally, as the climax of the stories of the past, he indicated this point and said, "Why, boys, in those days the shad cam up to that point."

On the old map of the Springfield Patent the "Shad Cam" is indicated as containing eight acres and as belonging to W. Cooper. In Judge Cooper's "List of Lands unsold, commencing Nov. i6th, 1797, " is the following entry: "Springfield Pattent, Nov. i6th Point and Fishing Place in lot No. 32, 8 acres, Value 250.00. "

Opposite the five-mile point is the "Dugway" with its history lost. We know the name is a very old one as

Hocal J8tomenclatttre 21

in the itemized account kept by Judge Cooper of the cost of the road on the east side of the lake there is an entry of the payment of £68, 5sh. & 6d. for building the ' ' Fifth Mile of the road (The Dugway ) . ' ' This was in 1 790 and on June 18, 1792, it cost I7sh. for ''Mending the Dugway." The entire road cost £388, I5sh. & id. The State of New York had appropriated £400 for the work and the closed account shows a credit of nearly twelve pounds.

In the Oak Creek Valley a road branches from the main highway just south of Schuyler's Lake; a mile or so up the road, where it forks for Hartwick and Burling- ton, is Pleasant Valley, innocuous enough in appearance but universally known as "Hell Town." Among the few houses still standing is an interesting field stone farmhouse.

Below Milford, on the east of the Susquehanna is "The Crumhorn," with a forgotten history. Crum- horn Mountain was the home of the rattlesnake fifty years ago, and its beautiful lake, which fills its bowl- like top, was then a great resort for fishermen. To- day it is almost abandoned ; the old tavern on the shores of the lake has been turned into a summer residence and is closed, while the farmhouses have been deserted and are falling into ruin.

I doubt if it now has as many residents as it did two days after Christmas in the year 1808, when a con tern-

22 Hesente of a JBtortfjern Count?

plative farmer, whose name, unfortunately has not survived, comfortably seated by his fireside while the winter winds blew fiercely over the mountain top, wrote the following political diatribe :

After I had done my days work I set down by the fire- side to shave a stick that I had cut for an axe handle, my Wife had put all the Children in bed and was turning over and contriving patches for their Cloths; as she seemed much engaged in her economical plans I did not chuse to disturb her by entering into conversation, my mind was engaged on many subjects it soon however fixed upon politics and the cause of the great stagnation of all kinds of business, they say that Buonaparte, King George, or some body else will not let our Vessels sail on the Ocean ; of course then we Farmers can have no market for our produce except we take it by Land.

I know of no place we can go to in this way but Canada and this our own Government forbids, but what right has Buonaparte or King George to interfere with us ? it is true, I read in the Papers that Buonaparte told the World that they should not trade with King George, and that King George soon after told all those who were afraid to trade with England upon the account of Buonaparte's threat, that they should not trade with France unless they paid him for it, you see by this that he likes Money, the thought struck me that our Rulers ought not to have depended upon the justice of other Nations for the protection of our rights for if Mankind were all just and good they would want no rulers, it must then be the fault of our rulers that we are placed in our present situation, or rather our own fault for placing them to rule over us, who to say the least it appears are not capable of doing it to our advantage. I finished my

Hocal J^tomemlatute 23

axe handle and an excellent piece of Timber it was, and I thought if we were as careful in looking for rulers as we are in choosing an axe handle we should have better times, to be sure the timber here is not as good as it is down Country, (and this inferiority for aught I know may hold good in the animate as well as the inanimate World), but then we have some pretty good Walnut &c., &c., we need not therefore take Witch Hazel or Bass Wood unless we have a mind to do so. Crum Horn Dec. 27th. 1808.

This is the earliest mention of the name of which I have any knowledge; it throws no light on its origin but shows it to be well over a century old. With many another similar document the above found its way into the possession of Judge Cooper and has long survived the children whose clothes were being patched that December night.

There is laid down on some of the old maps a narrow strip of land marked " Crumhorn Patent.'* Perhaps one of the patentees was named " Crumhorn.'*

Above Milford on the same road are "The Jams," so called, I was told years ago by my aunt, Susan Fenimore Cooper, because the hills have the appearance of having been jammed violently together. Down the ravine runs a little stream falling from ridge to ridge.

North of Hannah's Hill, and just west of Fenimore, is Mount Ovis. It was named a little over a century ago, about 1813, by my grandfather, who kept on it

24 ICesenb* of a jBtortftetn Count?

some of the first imported Merino sheep. Among them was a famous ram, Sinbad, which was killed by falling into the well.

Papoose Pool is now little more than a swamp, to the left of the River road just below its junction with the road to Richfield ; less than fifty years ago it was a beautiful wooded pool, with the reputation of being bottomless. In fact there was only a few feet of water and limitless mud. It is a quicksand and there are stories of the quite recent loss of a farm team and wagon in its depth. No reason for its name is known to-day.

On the hilltop across the Susquehanna again, and below Phoenix, is Mossy Pond. The reason for its name is apparent. Its location has been for years marked by the Mossy Pond tree, a great tree with a top like an inverted umbrella. It still towers far above its mates although now entirely dead.

Going farther afield; over in the Otego Patent we have "Susie Hole." Who Susie was, we do not know, unless the Hole belonged to Susanna Dilwing who owned a large tract in the Croghan Patent.

Frog Hollow, dear to the youth of fifty years ago, has vanished; it was in the village, to the east of Pioneer Street at the foot of the hill south of the Pres- byterian Church. There, as its name suggests, frogs of all sizes and ages could be found and separated from

Hocal .Nomenclature 25

their hind legs. It was full of cat-tails, too, and of all swamp -growing flowers. It was a most popular playground ; just water enough to keep alive frogs and pollywogs and thoroughly to wet the feet of its explorers.

There are two names, not quite local, upon which an old map of 1790 throws an interesting light : " Cobles- kill" and "Schenevus." Both names seem to be de- rived from the streams near the towns; in 1790 one was known as "Cobus Kill," and the other as "Shineva Creek"; the former named for a land owner and the latter apparently the Indian name.

"Twelve Thousand" is a heading in 'the social column of the local papers which puzzles and amuses many readers. I spent an afternoon trying to find a resident of this village who knew the exact location of the place, what it was and why it was so called. I met with no success and finally started out to hunt it up. After a delightful motor ride and many inquiries along the way I found that an indefinite tract of lonely land, sparsely inhabited and dotted with deserted houses, churches and burying grounds, lying along the heights east of Schuyler's Lake was, for some reason unknown to the inhabitants, called "Twelve Thousand."

The country is beautiful and the views extraordi- narily fine but there seems to be little else to recommend it as a place in which to live and work. One elderly resident of whom we asked where "Twelve Thousand"

26 lUgente of a JBtortljern Count?

was, stopped trying to repair a fence long enough to tell us that we were on it, but he couldn't give us any reason for the name. He added that he had just bought the farm which we were on and that he thought he must have had an attack of temporary aberration when he did so. I am afraid next winter will remove any doubt he may have as to his mental condition when he bought his new home.

On my return I looked over the old maps to see if they threw any light on the name and found the ex- planation on a map of the Subdivision of the Great Croghan or Cooper Patent made about 1770; on it appears an irregular ell-shaped piece of land run- ning down near the east side of Schuyler's Lake and then west across its south end, and some distance below, bearing the inscription "V. P. Dow & Others,

12000 A."

It's a far cry from "Pig Alley" of fifty years ago to "Prospect Place" of to-day, and a more than doubtful improvement in name. Whoever made the change had a grim sense of humor as old Pig Alley running from the back of the brick Miller house at the corner of Lake and Pine streets to Hannah's Hill, had the least of a prospect of any alley, lane, or street in the village. In old times when it climbed the almost inaccessible side of Hannah's Hill to the opening in the woods cut for the view on the hilltop, it was a favorite Sunday after-

ILotal Jlomenclature 27

noon walk for the girls and boys who were able to escape the weekly stroll to the cemetery and back. From the clearing there was a wonderful view of the lake and its wooded easterly shore.

Along this thickly wooded east shore of the lake were many places which now are little more than names: "Prospect Rock," with its beautiful view, now grown up; "The Seats of the Mighty," on the ledge overlook- ing the lake just were "John Woods Clearing " began; a clearing made nearly sixty years ago out of spite, be- cause Edward Clark wouldn't pay an exorbitant price for the land after a threat by Wood to clear it and spoil the lake shore. Beyond this clearing is the Chalet Farm of Fenimore Cooper and Natty Bumppo's Cave, and just beyond its northerly line were the remains of the "Hermit's" House which was abandoned some sixty years ago ; only the cellar is left, but when I was a boy the house still stood in its little overgrown clearing. It already had begun to fall down, the floors were unsafe, and the name of the hermit forgotten. Farther north, and just above the Dugway on the hillside was the "Hogs Back" where two ravines came so close together that one could straddle the path, with a foot in each. Until quite recently the finest old pines on the lakeside stood here.

THE FOUR CORNERS

THERE are other four corners in Cooperstown ; many of them; there are also three and two corners, and even one one corner; but it was about "The Four Corners" that the civic and much of the social life of the town centered after the first struggling years of its existence.

The "two corners," opposite the entrance to the Cooper Grounds, claims the distinction of the center of things in earlier days. Near this spot was the old Indian village, as was shown by the existence of apple trees there ; here George Croghan built his log home and lived for a few years ; when General Clinton came he made his headquarters at this spot and, later, when William Cooper built his first house in Otsego, he selected this place, and the house stood where the gates to the Cooper Grounds are now, looking up Otsego Lake, while on the corners opposite were William Cooper's garden on the west and Andrew Craig's on the east. These gardens went through to Lake Street and ran east and west nearly three hundred feet. For a short time Andrew Craig was a partner in the settlement. He soon, however, sold out his interest to Cooper. It is probable, too, that Hartwick made his attempted

28

Jfour Corners 29

settlement here in 1762 or 63, before Croghan's time. The explanation of the popularity of the spot probably is that from the time of the Indians there was some kind of a clearing here ; it was high land near the water and above all fairly well hidden from the lake and the river.

When the original village was laid out, in 1788, the westerly line ran north and south through the Four Corners where Main and Pioneer streets now intersect one another. These streets were then known as Second and West streets. It was really the westerly line of civilization. All traffic came from the east in those days, and so when the Red Lion Inn was built, on the southwest corner, it closed over half of the present Main Street, leaving only a narrow road running out into the wilderness. Over this trail went many of the settlers of places west of us. As the village grew, buildings lined this road and it became a narrowed Main Street, and so remained until the great fire of 1862 destroyed them and the present street was laid out the full width of old Main Street.

The Red Lion marked the dawn of the glory of the Four Corners. From its vantage point, across Main Street, it filled the eye of the approaching traveler. Its first sign is said to have been painted by R. R. Smith, a merchant from Philadelphia, and the first Sheriff of Otsego County. Opposite, on the southeast corner, the jail was built, and over it, entered by an

30 ICegettb* of a Jlortfjem Count?

outside flight of steps on Main Street, was the Court Room. On the west side of West Street, opposite the jail, were the stocks and the whipping post. It is more than probable that where the youth of the village now gather to drink soda water the youth of those times gathered to throw vegetables at the unfortunate occupants of the stocks.

Farther west, on the hillside by the present jail, the gallows stood, when needed. Thus all the imple- ments of Justice were gathered about the Four Corners ; and this notwithstanding Judge Cooper's gibe when the question of a county seat was first agitated: "The Court House for Cooperstown, the jail for Newtown- Martin (Middlefield) and the gallows for Cherry Valley." "The Heart of Midlothian" was only a jail; the heart of Cooperstown was encircled by all the insignia of justice and punishment, good cheer and death.

Near, if not on the northeast corner, was the Blue Anchor — the rival of the Red Lion — frequented by the more sedate residents and kept by a retired sea captain.

Where the flag pole stands now, the liberty pole used to stand and here public meetings were held and political speakers declaimed.

The location should be dear especially to the learned professions; the Court House to the lawyers, the jail to the ministers, and the stocks to the doctors. For

Jfout Corner* 31

here, from the steps of the jail, the first regular preach- ing was done by Rev. John MacDonald (Scotch Seceder), who was in jail for debt and on the limits by grace of a friend who bailed him; and one of the first occupants of the stocks was Dr. Charles Powers who so far forgot himself as to put an emetic in the punch supplied at a ball at the Red Lion, to which he had not been invited. He confessed, but was not forgiven, was put in the stocks, and afterwards banished.

It must have been a very sick, or a very hard-hearted, crowd of young people who could resist Powers 's appeal for mercy, written with a "trembling hand," if not with a ' ' penitent heart, ' ' and still existing. It reads as follows :

Worthy & much Injured Gentlemen & Ladies From the Bottom of my Heart I sincerely regret my Pre- sumptious, Unhappy & Ungrateful Conduct towards you on the Evening of the 4th of Instant October — Gentlemen & Ladies will you do me the honour to believe me when I say that the Tart-Emetic I put into your Liquor was owing partly to Intoxication and partly to the Insinuation of the adversary of Men. It was not done from any Pique or Prejudice I had against the Company, for I acknowledge you are a Company of very Modest Respectable young Gentlemen and Ladies. I declare before God and his Holy Angels that what I did was done to have a little Sport and from no other Motive. I declare as solemnly that I had no Intention of Injuring the Health of any person, for had I wanted that I could have put in the Solution of Corrosive Sublimate, which is the strongest preparation of Mercury

32 Hejjentrg of a J^ort&ent County

which would have acted as a slow but certain Poison. Or I might have put in Liquid Laudanum, a Preparation of Opium, to such Quantity that it would have thrown you all into a profound sleep from which 'tis not probable all of you would have awaked both: of which Medicines are much cheaper than the Tart Emetic. It is needless Gentlemen & Ladies for me to be more particular.

I now humbly ask the forgiveness of God, Angels & Men

for my foolish conduct and hope and pray I may never be

left to Conduct in such a Manner again. Gentlemen &

Ladies, I ask the forgiveness of you all, and am willing to

make all the retractation I am able to.

And now, Gentlemen & Ladies, will you please to show so much of the forgiving Temper of the Saviour of Men as to forgive me and by thus doing you will lay me under the highest Obligations to study Gratitude to you so long as God shall spare my life.

This from the penitent Heart and trembling hand

of CHARLES POWERS

Cooperstown Oct. 8" 1791

Messrs. Joseph Griffin, Carr, White, Meachem &c &c. Messrs. Griffin, Carr, &c. &c.

An upset stomach surely dulls the sense of humor, as well as the spirit of forgiveness and the appreciation of great dangers escaped. I have no doubt that to many of the revelers the idea of the sleep without a wakening which might have followed the use of opium was not at the time wholly disagreeable.

The letter opens a new vision of the Four Corners on that October night, a hundred and thirty years ago;

Jfour Corner* 33

the Adversary of Men, whispering in the ear of the country doctor to use opium as cheaper than Tart- Emetic; and had he yielded to the tempter, the Red Lion turned into a silent palace of sleeping beauties and frontier gallants.

The political activities of the town centered at the Four Corners for years; public meetings were held there or in the adjoining tavern or nearby " Washington Hall." At one of these meetings, held about 1808, the following resolution was adopted; slightly changed, it almost would have done for a meeting held a few years ago, with its reference to the "Liberty of the Seas" and to trusting our natural defense to "Gun Boats, Procla- mations, and Armies on Paper."

Peace, and no Embargo Nomination, here take in the proceedings of the Meeting.

FELLOW CITIZENS,

Since the most gloomy period of our Revolution the Liberty of our Country has not been in a more critical situ- ation. The Emperor of France began his political career by singing hosannas to the goddess of Liberty, he now rules the Continent of Europe at the point of the Bayonet; all Nations within his reach have by his intrigues and his Arms been subjected to his control: in pursuance of his plan of universal dominion but under the specious pretext of giving of the World the Liberty of the Seas, he issues decrees in direct violation of the Law of Nations and of his solemn Treaty with this Republic: in conformity with his policy if not in obedience to his mandates shall we then fellow Citizens

34 Hegente of a Jlortfjern Countp

by our nonintercourse and embargo Laws assist him in ob- taining the dominion of the Ocean ? the only barrier between him and universal Empire — shall we cont inue men in office who conduct the affairs of the Nation in secret conclave ? — who pursue measures which will inevitably bring our com- mon Country to poverty and ruin ? — who will not or cannot let us know the true cause of these measures — who say we are upon the eve of a War and commit our defence to Gun Boats, Proclamations and Armies on Paper — if not arouse honest Yeomanry of our Country with you under divine providence rests the Salvation of this Nation, if you are not now vigilent and at your posts we are undone — we must become a Nation of Slaves — arouse then before it is too late and change your Rulers — a change we conceive is absolutely necessary, the Candidates above nominated are honest Men possessed of talents and information and who are not pre- judiced in favour of any foreign Nation, they are American born and follow the precepts of the immortal Washington — our forefathers fought and bled and left us a precious Inherit- ance— Civil & Religious Liberty — let it not depreciate in our hands but be transmitted to Posterity as pure as we received it.

BENJAMIN GILBERT Chairman PETER MAYHEW CLARK

It was here, without a doubt, that on July 4th, 1794, the author read to a patriotic and appreciative audi- ence:

AN HYMN

Parent of nations! guardian pow'r!

The source of ev'ry good ! Accept the homage of this hour,

Devote to gratitude.

Jfour Corner^ 35

Well may the song aspire to thee, When freedom is the theme,

Whose service leaves the subject free In monarchy supreme.

O may the nations learn of thee

To rule and to obey; Thou giv'st the subjects noblest plea,

Thy laws the mildest sway.

How sweet the]meting of thy care !

How gracious each behest ! "Come ye, who faint and wearied are,

And I will give you rest."

Has not enough of tyrant sway Despoil'd the subject's peace?

Bid him to freedom seek the way, Ah, bid oppression cease.

Nor wanting be thy guiding hand To point th' important aim;

May ne'er mad License rule the land With Liberty's fair name.

And 0 ! by thy peculiar care, Columbia's guardian chief!

Long to her wonted int'rests spare His labours and his life.

May wisdom in our counsils reign, And union bind our hearts;

Faction attempt her wiles in vain, Defeated in her arts.

36 Hegenbg of a Jlortftern Count?

Forbid that freedom's sacred fire,

Thus lighted on our shore, Should with abated flame aspire,

Or ever slumber more.

May firm allegiance e'er await

Protection's mutual arm; This scorning pow'r unduly great,

That free from false alarm.

July 4th, 1794.

It is written on a double sheet of letter paper, yellow with age, but is, unfortunately, unsigned. The hand- writing is that of Richard Fenimore Cooper, the eldest child of Judge Cooper, then in his nineteenth year. The wilderness seems to have turned men's thoughts to poetry.

Between the Red Lion and the jail took place a famous wrestling match ; Judge Cooper offered a lot of 150 acres to any man on the settlement who could throw him. He was finally thrown and the lot conveyed to his conqueror. It was here, too, that as he was leaving the Court House after holding a term of Court, he was attacked by James Cochrane, a successful political rival. There are still in existence affidavits of onlookers declaring that Judge Cooper won the bout. The cause of the attack is said to have been a remark by Judge Cooper that Cochrane had "fiddled his way into Con-

Jfour Corners 37

gress." It seems that while campaigning he fiddled for the young to dance evenings.

Just west of the Corners was the field where the Militia paraded and was drilled when the martial spirit of the town was aroused before the War of 1812; and doubtless it was the good cheer of the Red Lion, too liberally partaken of by the weary fighters, which inspired an unknown poet, probably an envious tax- paying civilian, to write these verses:

The Country rings around with loud arlarms, And raw in fields the rude Militia swarms; Mouths without hands; maintain'd at vast expense; In peace a Charge, in war a weak deffence; Stout once a Month they march a blustring band, And ever, but in times of need, at hand. This was the morn when, issuing on the guard, Drawn up in rank and file they stood prepared Of seeming arms to make a short essay, Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the Day. The Cowards would have fled, but that they knew, Themselves so many, and their foes so few; —

The local organization was a "Troop of Light Dragoons attached to Brig. General Henry McNeil's Brigade. ' ' At one time the troop had seventy members in all. Isaac Cooper and Jerome Clark were Lieuten- ants and at different times in command.

The following receipt gives the name of the Command-

38 Hegenbg of a JBtortftetn Count?

ing Officer in 1808 and a partial list of the property of the troop :

Capt. Van Deer Veer purchased the

Colors without painting $ 7.00

Trumpet 10. —

One half Clarinet 7.—

French Horn belongs to

the Company — given by RICHARD F. COOPER

The above articles I give to Isaac Cooper. Cooperstown Jan. 4th, 1808.

FERD- VANDERVEER.

A surviving inventory shows that there were three pair of spurs among the seventy horsemen.

As the town grew, the character of the Four Corners changed, — the Post Office settled near it and the local printing and newspaper office. In the latter Thurlow Weed worked in his younger days. A short distance away was the home of Judge Nelson and opposite the house and office of Dr. Fuller. In time the Red Lion retired and the ' ' Eagle" tavern took its place until swept away by the fire of 1862; logically the Phoenix should have succeeded, but instead came business houses.

The town became beautiful with age; Main Street was lined with great overhanging trees and the side- walks were broad and covered with pine planks.

When the roads improved, the stages came and went

Jfout Cornet^ 39

from the Four Corners, and the youth of the town, and always some of its elders, gathered at the Corners to meet the coming guest or "get the mail"; all eyes watched the western approach to see the stage swing into Main Street and come, with its four galloping horses, down to the Post Office. At first it came from Fort Plain twenty-six miles away, and later from Colliers — seven- teen — a long and weary ride as the writer remembers it.

The Four Corners has had its share in the military glory of the town; past this point doubtless the silent red warriors of the Indian town went to join their tribes- men in the raids which made the Iroquois the most dreaded of all the Indian nations ; from it the youth of the village went forth to the wars of 1812 and 1861, — some of them never to return.

In 1917 again the village furnished its splendid quota of volunteers not "too proud to fight," when all that was best of its youth answered the call to arms; many of them to give their health or their lives in the camps and on the battlefields of France.

It was a fine tribute to the fame of our village which Gabriel Hanotaux paid it when in announcing the entry of the United States into the World War, he declared, "The spirit of Leatherstocking still lives in the Amer- ican people," for the spirit of Leatherstocking surely haunts the happy hunting grounds of the woods and lake of Otsego.

GHOSTS— OURS AND OTHERS

IT is not true, as some think, that ghosts walk only in the South. Our northern land has its "hants." Doubtless many a ghost welcomes the chance to walk in a cool climate, and perhaps this explains why hardly a house in Scotland is without at least one ghostly visitant.

Be this as it may, north of us, at Ticonderoga, we have the ghost of the Indian maiden which used to be seen on the southern rampart, and which, with a scream, throws itself over to escape the pursuing officer.

It was near this old fort, too, that the great ghost story of Duncan Campbell of Inverawe staged its last scene, when, on the eve of the battle in which he was killed, Campbell met on the bridge the wraith of his murdered kinsman, who, years before in the tower at Inverawe, had bade him good-bye until "We shall meet at Ticonderoga."

Our local ghosts are less thrilling, but just as dear to us and just as good "hants." Curiously the ghosts of our village cling to the old part of the town. Perhaps they are stopped there by the river on their way east, for ghosts, like witches, cannot cross water.

40

(gfjotfte — ©ur* anb ©tfjer* 41

The oldest of them is the Indian chief who for nearly a century and a half is known to have sat behind the old stone wall on River Street, and with his sturdy, if bony legs, many a time kicked it down. For five generations, from father to son, has the tradition been handed down, how, back of this wall, with chin on knees and hands clasped around shin bones sat, amidst his weapons and scanty pots and pipes, the skeleton of a great Mohawk Chief.

Well I remember the terrors of the spot on dark and rainy nights. I suppose because he was an Indian was the reason why one's scalp had that queer feeling and the scalp lock seemed to rise and pull ! I never heard that he was seen to leave his grave, but I was told, as have been all the family, that no wall ever had stood, or ever would stand, at that place. It was the despair of successive owners, wall after wall was built and kicked down, until the present heavy one was put up, thick and strong enough, it was hoped, to withstand the feet of the old chief ; but even it is yielding, as all may see. When its predecessor fell, in my youth, there, glaring at the fallen wall, sat the triumphant old chief, with bony chin on knees, cavernous eyes, and skinny legs ; there he was left ; and there he sits to-day.

Ghosts must love company for another has been seen in the old stone house on the corner below. The house was built by Judge Cooper for his daughter Anne, when

42 Hegettbg of a J^orfliern Count?

she married George Pomeroy, well over a century ago. There she lived for many years and grew old. She was a little woman, and a determined one, and, tradition says, prided herself on her knowledge of how to bring up children. She put this knowledge to the test as is shown by the long and pathetic line of little Pomeroys, with their little headstones in the Cooper lot in Christ Churchyard.

In time came shrinking fortunes until finally the little old woman reluctantly left the old house — but not for good. It passed into strange hands; but after years returned to the family, and evidently old Anne Pomeroy returned to it once more. It was only occu- pied by the living for short periods and at long intervals.

On a November night, during one of these intervals, a friend of mine was expecting a guest by the evening train. The train came, but the guest didn't arrive at his host's, which was but a block from the old stone house. Finally he came, and explained the delay, by saying that he had been lost and would hardly have found his way had it not been for the nice old lady in the stone house on the corner below. The host, with true hospitality, said nothing until the visitor had been dried and warmed and fed, when by the fireside with their pipes, he asked about the old lady. His guest said that, after wandering about in the rain and fail- ing to find his host's, he went to an old stone house on

anb ©tfjera 43

the corner, which seemed to be closed, but on knocking repeatedly with the heavy knocker the door was opened by a little old lady in black with a candle in her hand who said, in answer to his inquiry if "B" lived there, "No, he lives in the house on the corresponding corner below"; and he added, "Here I found you." Nothing could convince the stranger that the house was and had for a long time been unoccupied. So after arguing as only smoking clergy can, they agreeed to settle the dis- pute by going to the house. The visitor led the way to the stone house. He admitted that it did look un- occupied and, after long and lusty knocking, which brought no lady, old or young, to the door, he declared himself puzzled, but still convinced that even the ghosts of Cooperstown would help a stranger. As both the liv- ing participants of this tale were clergymen its truth cannot be questioned. Then, too, passing glimpses of the old lady's face at the window have been caught from time to time.

The other River Street ghost is even more distinctly a Cooper wraith, and it, too, clings to the neighborhood of the old Indian :

The last of the older generation of occupants of Byberry Cottage died on a Good Friday, some years ago; she had been an invalid for years, was blind and had but one leg. She lived in a wheeled chair and her nurse pushed the chair to Christ Church for service

44 Hesenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

when the weather was good and her patient strong enough for the trip. During service on the day of her death, a Good Friday, a member of the congregation, who had the faculty which the Scotch call "second sight, " was amazed to see the wheeled chair with its invalid occupant move past her up the middle aisle of the church. Noiselessly and slowly it went; but no one was pushing it. It seemed to move of its own volition. Usually it was turned when it reached the transepts and stood at one side during the service, but, on this Good Friday, it moved solemnly up through the choir and seemed to vanish in the altar itself. Immediately the one who saw the vision spoke of it. After service was over, it was announced that the invalid had died, shortly before.

She was most devout and her greatest treat was to attend service in the church she loved. About By- berry Cottage, her home, cling many stories of its original occupants. One of them, Susan Fenimore Cooper, is still remembered as a saint. She gave her life, and most of her small fortune, to good works. It was she who founded the Hospital, the Orphanage, and the Home for Old Women, and, by her efforts kept them alive during the years of their struggling youth. She was very deaf and slight, but had what is now recog- nized as great psychic power. It was then called animal magnetism. She always had this mysterious

aito ©fter* 45

something and far back in the last century experimented with it at the Old Hall.

Her power was most extraordinary and, for her friends and relatives, she would exercise it at any time. No material thing was too heavy for her to move. She frequently, as a demonstration of this, would move an inverted dining-table with a heavy man seated on a pile of books on it. The heaviest man in town, old Judge Sturgis, once took this strange ride.

She was deeply religious and finally, a few years be- fore her death and after an evening of experiments, she heard strange sounds and thought that they and the spirits which she thought filled her room had come to warn her that the gift was of the devil. She refused ever again to exercise it and a great opportunity for scientific study was lost.

There is the recollection of another shadowy visitor, which used to be seen in the old house which formerly stood opposite the Indian's grave. Well I remember, when sent there as a mere child to see the grown-up daughter of my dead uncle, Richard Cooper, seating myself with all the embarrassment of such an occasion, in his library chair, only to be told, with great excite- ment, not to sit in it as uncle Richard was occupying it! Truly a nerve-racking experience for a child and one which greatly enhanced the terrors of River Street.

There were in my youth other ghosts, more nebulous,

46 Hegenb* of a Jfrortfjern Count?

which haunted certain houses; one of them was down on the river road, but it has been exorcised ; another, on the lake road, was closely allied to a sad tragedy of love and death. This one too has been laid, and as neither are family possessions and some tenants are so un- reasonable as not to appreciate rented or purchased ghosts, I pass them by.

One other ghost there is, a connection, if not a rela- tive, and it I knew first hand. The story goes back well over a century to the earlier days of the settlement. One of the Coopers married a noted beauty of her day, whose family had come from Virginia to settle on the extreme northern portion of the so-called Cooper Patent. There are portraits of her still hanging on the walls of her one-time homes. They show a very handsome, but rather hard and proud woman, evi- dently of great will power. After a married life of several years her first husband died, in 1813, at the age of thirty-seven. There had been much scandal about her husband's friend who owned and occupied a great ad- joining estate. The talk was not allayed when, immedi- ately after the funeral, the widow, Ann, went with her admirer to his home. She afterward told my father, a great favorite of hers, that she was married immedi- ately— but this has to do with a State-wide scandal of those days and not with ghosts.

She had in time a son ; and then a second son, who on

anb ©tfjer* 47

his father's death, took possession of the great house on the estate and married another celebrated beauty and brought her to his home. I doubt if any house is large enough for an ex-beauty of advanced years, and doubtless bad temper, and a reigning beauty, in the glory of her youth.

Whatever the cause may have been, Ann was in- vited to leave and find herself a home elsewhere. This she did reluctantly, and moved into her father's house a few miles away. As she left, while the young people stood at the entrance and the horses waited, she turned and with lifted hand cursed the house she loved. ' ' You may drive me out now, but I shall return and haunt it forever" — were her parting words, as told to me by my father, and the tale runs, — unauthenticated, how- ever, — that she added : ''May no woman ever be happy in it again."

Tradition says that it had been a gay and somewhat wild life which had been lived there, and my mother has told me of the desperate gaming indulged in and how one of my great uncles, the builder and owner of "Woodside," after losing all his other property finally staked and lost his house.

Years passed; the great house was almost abandoned. Occupied in part only and for brief periods it fell into decay and became a wonderful home for "hants." Its fame as a haunted house spread through the countryside

48 Hegenfc* of a J^tortfjent Count?

and even reached England. Again the heir married, and again the bride was a great beauty and a most gracious woman ; the house was once more occupied and gradually restored; children's voices resounded through its halls and great rooms and it saw a delightful social life.

Knowing it and its owners from my youth, I was a frequent visitor for nearly half a century. Some thirty years ago I was one of a November house party com- posed, with one other exception, of members of the host's family.

The available rooms, for the house as yet had not all been restored, were not over many and so when bed- time came, I found myself in a room far down one of the corridors which opened on the central court about which the house was built. My windows looked out on the dripping wooded mountainside. By the light of my candle I saw that the room was one of those not yet restored; the paper in places hung in strips from the wall ; the big mirror between the windows was without much of the silver backing; the bare floor was uneven and a bit loose in spots. The door was at the end of one side and didn't fasten. At the other end of the room was the single bed and beside it, balancing the door, a great old-fashioned wardrobe, which with a dressing-table and a chair were all the furniture.

After a look about I got into bed with the candle on

(gfjogte — ©ur* anb ©fterg 49

the chair beside me, and fell asleep, having no fear at least of family ghosts. One keeps no track of time while sleeping, but I suddenly found myself wide awake, with every sense on the alert and that mysterious feel- ing, which most of us have had at times, that there was someone in the room. It was dark as the plague of Egypt and only the dripping trees and soughing wind could be heard, when, after I know not how long, I heard a slow footstep as of someone approaching from the corner of the room opposite the door. Slowly, deliber- ately, it came over the bare and creaking floor, toward the bed; again I noticed that queer sensation about my scalp lock which, as a boy, I felt when passing the grave of the Indian chief late at night. Flat on my back I lay, motionless, more anxious to escape atten- tion than to see who my visitor was, and dreading what the light of my candle might show.

On came that awful, deliberate footstep toward the left of my bed, where the great wardrobe was, until finally, after years, it was beside the lower part of the bed. Then, as I lay motionless and expectant, slowly the bed clothes were drawn across my body, not as if pulled by a hand, but as if someone in passing too close to the bed had brushed against them and drawn them slowly off.

Then silence in the room. I leaped from the other side of the bed and lighted my candle. The room was

50 Hegenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

empty, and so was the wardrobe. The door was closed, and the bed clothes, drawn from the foot, were partially on the floor and partially on the bedside.

Realizing that ghosts rarely come but once in a night, I got back into bed and fell asleep. Next day, I said nothing of my disturbed night until evening when we were all gathered about the fire in the dim old book- lined library. An English relative of the owner of the house, who was himself absent, remarked that it was known in England as haunted. This, of course, brought up the question of its ghosts for discussion and the widow of the last owner said, "Of course it's haunted," and told what she had seen and heard. One tale led to another until I turned to my hostess, a life- long friend and distant relative, and said, "M , I

have often heard of the ghosts of this place but never until last night did I see one." Then I told my story, laughingly. I noticed my hostess looked serious and after a time suggested that if I would go with her through the long dark corridors and rooms she would get some cider; adding that all the talk of ghosts had made her a bit nervous.

Hardly had the library door closed behind us when she turned to me and said, ' ' ] , is that true ? " I as- sured her that it was absolutely; then she said, "It's strange, that is the haunted room, we never use it, but the house is crowded and I knew you best aad knew

51

that you were familiar with the house and so put you there ; it was old G - 's dressing-room and my last nurse and A - (her daughter) both declare that one even- ing they saw the figure of an old man in a yellow, red, and green wrapper go down the corridor ahead of them and turn into that room; they insisted on it and I sent the nurse away. Such a wrapper we have packed in the attic; it belonged to old G - ."

Well, the cider helped a little, but I didn't look for- ward to more nights in that room with anticipations of joy. I did my best to keep the party amused and make them forget bedtime, with fair success, but the un- avoidable hour came and again I found myself alone with my candle ; again my night was disturbed, but this time in a semi-comic manner and only indirectly by ghosts, so let that story go until another time.

Many are the other tales of the old house told by its inmates; one tells how, in the dead of night, the piano in the vast drawing-room plays tirelessly ; another of the underground passageway, from the closet under the wind- ing stairs to the family vault, through which the dead passed back and forth, safe from exposure to the weather. I remember often seeing the black opening of the passageway, in the little closet, but have heard that some more venturesome soul crawled into it only to find it blocked against him after a short distance.

In old times when a member of the family died,

52 Hegente of a Jlortfjern County

he didn't go far from the house to find a new resting place. Hardly more than a stone's throw from the front door is the family vault, built in the hillside where it falls to the lake; it is a commodious resting place for the dead. Years ago it was open to living and dead alike; the doors at either end of the passageway leading back into the hillside were unlocked and often open, and access to the vault itself, which lay deep in the ground, at right angles to the entrance, required only courage and curiosity. In it lay, under stone sar- cophagi, the builder and some of his family, while on the floor was the exposed coffin of one of the dead occu- pants. In those days it was the test of courage to go down into the vault, at midnight, with a candle only as light. I remember one youth who made the trip and failing to return promptly, we all went to look for him, and found him seated on the exposed and cracked coffin, smoking, while to add to his comfort and the cheerfulness of the occasion, he had built, with chips from the coffin, a small fire in the center of the vault.

When the builder of the old house died, his bedroom and dressing-room, on the first floor, were closed, just as he left them. In time the floors gradually settled, the furniture moved toward the center, and finally everything went through into the cellar. We often opened the door to look at the collapsed floor with the

anb ©tfjer* 53

carpet hanging on the broken beams and the furniture piled in the cellar. We used the drawing-room for hand ball and racquette, and the proprietor often used the entrance hall to store extra carriages in. The house was always full of interest and excitement for the young, with its air of mystery, its great size and beauty. One of our greatest architects, Stanford White, said of it, that it was the most beautiful country house in America.

It had in those days too another attraction at least for boys ; it was overrun by small snakes, brown with a golden collar. One met them everywhere in the cor- ridors and rooms, and low boards were slipped in the bedroom doors to keep out those which wandered about the long halls. I remember once that a stranger who was talking with me in the library suddenly became silent and a look of terror spread over his face, I fol- lowed the direction of this fixed stare and saw curled under a desk, one of the larger of the snakes with head erect.

As to my ghostly visitant the only question is of idenity : Whose wraith was it ? I like to think that it was old Ann's, come to prove to me that she was keeping the oath which she swore so solemnly, when nearly a century before she was ordered from her home, and of which she knew my father had told me.

There is a vision sometimes seen from the hillside where Fynmere now stands; in the golden haze of

54 Hegenb* of a Jftortfjern Count?

the October late afternoons, when our beautiful valley glows softly with yellows and reds, may be seen a row of horsemen, riding slowly up the road. There is a space in their ranks, now between the third and the fourth, and those of us who see them know for whom the space is kept by the silent riders.

SOME OTHER GHOSTS

There are other ghosts that I have known besides the Cooperstown ones; two are especially interesting, one I saw and the other I heard about very directly.

Years ago, in the old Elk Street house, I awoke to find a woman standing by my bedside, about halfway be- tween the head and the foot. She was looking down on me intently. I always slept, in those days, with my door open so as to hear if anything happened in the house. Opposite one of my windows, which had no blinds or shutters, was an old-fashioned electric street light which thoroughly illuminated my room.

I was a very light sleeper. On this occasion a feeling that something was in the room awakened me and I turned over; I had been lying with my face to the wall, and there was a woman, close to the bed, looking down on me.

She was so real that I thought at once that it7 was my mother and spoke to her, saying, " Mother, what do

<gfjo*te — ©ur* anb ©tfjer* 55

you want?" There was no reply and no motion; still I thought it human and concluded it must be one of my sisters walking in her sleep, so rising on my elbow I grabbed at the figure to wake her up. Although I seemed to reach it I felt nothing, so reaching farther forward I made a long swing with my arm, but again caught nothing; then I realized that my arm and hand had passed through the figure. It still stood motion- less gazing down on my face. I fell back on the bed with a gasp, and after returning the stare for a few seconds, for the first time noticing that I could see the heavy lines of a closet through the form, closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, it was gone.

Still half convinced that it was a sleepwalker I jumped from bed and hurried out into the hall to overtake it or find who it was ; no one was there, and on going to the different rooms I found all the family safely in bed.

Puzzled, I went back to my room and got into bed, then I noticed that the dark lines of the closet back of where the figure had been, and which I had seen through it, indicated that it had stood much higher than the ordinary human form.

The other ghost is one of the kind now explained by men of science on the theory of telepathy.

There were in Albany some years ago two men, of approximately the same age, one a sculptor and the other a painter. They were unlike in all except age

56 Hesenbg of a JHortfjern Count?

and dignity of appearance. The sculptor, P , was

perhaps the greatest of his time in the country, pros- perous, honored, and exceedingly handsome. He was very tall with a ruddy complexion and wonderful white

hair and beard. The painter, T , while loving his

art, was unsuccessful. All his life he had struggled to accomplish what his friend had won easily; but failed. He was a smaller and a dark man. Almost every day for years they met in the local art store, and in its gal- lery talked over many things and criticized the pictures.

I knew them well, especially P , who came from

Otsego County. Quite frequently I stopped in and talked with them.

Finally a morning came when P was not there.

T waited; and came again; but P never re- turned to the gallery, and, after a few days, T also

disappeared. He lived in the country some miles below Albany.

About the time of their usual meeting one morning,

the news came that P had died at nine o'clock.

The proprietor of the store took a horse and wagon and

drove to T 's house to tell him of his friend's death.

Poor T was lying ill on his bed and when he saw

the art dealer come into the room, he said, "I know

what you have come for, P is dead. He died

at nine o'clock this morning." The dealer, Surprised that anyone should have hurried out to break the news,

anb ©tfjer* 57

answered : ' ' Who told you ? " T replied : ' ' He did ;

at nine o'clock this morning, he came into the room and stood by my bed, where you do now, and said to

me: 'T , I'm going; I have come to say good-bye

to you.'"

This was told to me at the time by the art dealer.

T lingered for a while and then joined his more

successful friend.

There is at Cooperstown another house with its ghostly visitant, unless recently exorcised. It is the oldest brick house in the village where, years ago, the owner smothered his wife with a pillow, and where, when conditions are right, muffled screams and groans were frequently heard.

I may have forgotten some of my genial ghost friends ; if so, I ask their forgiveness, and trust that they will quietly ignore the oversight.

Of course there are the Witch Trees, but they are for the children rather than the grown-ups. Here and there one sees them — tall and lanky; and always pressing toward the east. They look like skinny old women, bent with age and the constant endeavor to drag their heavy feet eastward. For years I have watched one, but as yet have not seen it make any progress. Per- haps they are doomed to hopeless and endless endeavor as a punishment for some crime when they were living women.

58 Eegenbg of a JBtortfjern Count?

Clinging to some of the houses and localities are stories of other things than ghosts which will bear re- peating here; as the tale of the Wandering Jew and the stories of the gay revelers whose wraiths must still frequent some of the older houses.

There was great religious toleration in these frontier settlements. It has been said truthfully, that in the colony of New York no one ever was persecuted for his religious belief. Here, at Cooperstown, all de- nominations lived in harmony and worshiped together for a time — and then were buried in the same graveyard.

For years in the northwest corner of the Presbyterian burying ground lay a Jew. His stone bore an inscrip- tion in Hebrew and the date of his death was given in the Hebraic Chronology. Who he was, when he was buried, and why he selected the coldest corner of the blue Presbyterian churchyard to rest in no one knew. Nothing is known about him. For a century he lay in his neglected grave, visited occasionally by a curious resident or an inquisitive stranger in search of the famous epitaph :

" Lord she is thin,1 and not our own

Thou has not done us wrong We thank the for the precious loan Afforded us so long." f

1 Unfortunately, " Susannah the wife of Mr Perez Ensign who died July 18*1? 1825" was very thin.

anb ©t&erg 59

His presence among the Presbyterians always excited wonder and the inscription the interest of tourist and resident alike. One morning his grave stone was missed and all evidence of his long rest in the burying ground had vanished ; a careful search was made but not a trace of it could be found and to this day the mystery of its disappearance has never been explained — unless he was the Wandering Jew, and after resting his allotted period in our graveyard picked up his stone and started on his restless way.

The contrasts of life are great; from the graveyard we go to the country house of a century ago ; about the time when the Jew appeard in the churchyard, three families arrived from the Bahama Islands and settled on land along the Susquehanna, south of the village. They each built a large and fine colonial house. Years later one of these was destroyed by fire and one was abandoned and is now a mere shell which a few more winters will level with the ground, but the third still stands looking across the valley, with its classical portico. It is practically as it was a century ago — dignified and beautiful.

The builder, tradition says, ran away with his em- ployer's daughter and they built their new home here. She was a large woman and lazy, and disliked the effort of climbing stairs, so the house was built almost en- tirely on one floor; only a rudimentary second floor

6o 3Usenb£ of a JHort&ern Count?

with rooms for servants. The lower floor was most spacious. The builders were rich and gay ; life was one long round of riding, gaming, dancing, and drinking, in which young and old from the village, two miles away, joined with the nearer neighbors.

The present owner, who has lived in the house for over sixty years, relates many anecdotes of its early history; the guests generally arrived on horseback, or in sleighs, among them many a man who was, or be- came, famous throughout the country. The stakes were high and the gayety fast and furious; fortunes changed hands in that innocent-looking colonial house. The hostess who grew larger and slow of movement sat in the big drawing-room and, that nothing might escape her attention, had a window cut through into one of the two dining-rooms where cards were played and from which a stairway led to the wine cellar. From this vantage point she kept track of the game and the wine ; she was no spoil sport, however, and left the gamesters unmolested till far on toward dawn there was mounting of horses and gay winner and sad loser galloped away.

A GRAVEYARD ROMANCE— A TRAGEDY AND A SCANDAL

NEAR the easterly line of the Cooper burying ground are two graves, side by side, one of Hannah Cooper and the other of Col. Richard Cary.

The visitor in reaching them must be careful not to fall over either Mr. or Mrs. Avery Averell or over one of the long row of little Pomeroys. The Averys are strangers to the people among whom they rest, and why they lie where they do, no one to-day knows; so is Col. Richard Cary, one time on General Washington's staff, but the reason of his presence is known.

For years the tomb of Hannah Cooper bore only the verses engraved on it, and written by her father, Judge Cooper. The name and date were added later. Hannah was his favorite daughter; she was, according to tradi- tion and contemporary writings, talented, beautiful, and good. She lived with her father when he attended the Sessions of Congress at Philadelphia and made many friends and had many admirers.

In the autumn of the year 1800, she, with one of her brothers, either William or Richard, started from her home to visit the Morris family at Butternuts. The

61

62 Hegenb* of a J^ortfjern Count?

ride was about twenty-four miles over hill and dale, and almost entirely through the woods. As about the only way of travel in the wilderness was on horseback she was an expert horsewoman, but when her horse was brought out and proved to be a thoroughbred, recently imported by her father, she expressed some reluctance to ride him. Of course her brothers twitted her with timidity and she yielded and rode off.

All went well until they were approaching the Morris place. Perhaps the long ride had tired her or made her careless. The horse shied violently, it is said at a dog, threw her by the roadside, and broke her neck. The spot is still marked by a shaft of marble, three sides of which are devoted to her virtues.

This monument was sent all the way from Phila- delphia and was the tribute of an admirer. In the lapse of time his name was forgotten and I have heard this post-mortem attention attributed to a number of Hannah's friends, among them Moss Kent, but the letters which are set out in another article in this volume show that the monument was sent by J. H. Imlay of Allentown, N. J., by whom, I think, the inscription on the south face was written; those on the other sides were the work one of a Mrs. Meredith and the other of a Miss Wistar, both of Philadelphia; the monument, a monolith, is, notwithstanding its one hundred and twenty years, in a condition of perfect preservation.

& (Srabcparb Romance 63

The inscriptions which it bears I have set out at length with the letters relating to it.

Her brother turned about and rode back to Coopers- town, bringing the news of the accident. On his arrival Judge Cooper and Moss Kent, a great ad- mirer of Hannah's, and some of the family mounted and started at once for Morris. It was late; the moon was full and the country ablaze with autumn colors. My father has often repeated to me the story of that long and silent ride as told to him by his father, to whom it had been related by Moss Kent.

Poor Hannah ! She was brought back to her home, and laid temporarily on the old Queen Anne table now in the dining-room at Fynmere, which had been brought from Richard Fenimore's home in Rancocus, New Jersey, and subsequently became the library table at Otsego Hall.

In due time she was buried under the stone bearing these verses by her heart-broken father:

Adieu! thou Gentle, Pious, Spotless, Fair, Thou more than daughter of my fondest care, Farewell ! Farewell ! till happier ages roll And waft me Purer to thy kindred Soul. Oft shall the Orphan and the Widow'd poor Thy bounty fed, this lonely spot explore, There to relate thy seeming hapless doom, (More than the solemn record of the tomb,

64 Hegente of a J^ortfjern County

By tender love inscribed can e'er portray, Nor sculptured Marble, nor the Plaintiff lay, Proclaim thy Virtues thro' the vale of time) And bathe with grateful tears thy hallowed shrine.

Among her elderly admirers was Col. Richard Gary, the father of the Ann Gary who married Richard Cooper and later George Clarke. When the gallant Virginia Colonel came to die, he whispered to his mourning family that he had one last request to make — "Bury me beside Hannah Cooper; she was the best woman I ever knew and my only chance of Paradise is getting in on her skirts."

This may have been a shock to his wife and family but they respected his wish and buried him where he still lies — close beside Hannah. Whether or not he accomplished his purpose only Eternity can tell the reader.

Here the romance ends — but among the books which have survived the vicissitudes of over a century and a quarter of attic life, is a rather large calfskin-covered volume inscribed "Miss Coopers Commonplace Book." It is dated 1791 and on the flyleaf is written "Miss H. Cooper, Cooperstown."

Nearly three hundred pages are filled with poetry and prose copied or written with great care by the owner, and which by their character show the turn of mind of Hannah from early youth until her death. Then fol-

& <§rabepartii Romance 65

lows a memorial entry in a new handwriting and after it copies of a number of letters of condolence written to Judge Cooper, and several poems contributed by mourning, but now unknown friends. It was an age of formality and even the expressions of grief and sympathy were formal and artificial, although doubtless sincere.

From these expressions of sorrow, typical of the times, I have selected the following to show that Hannah had many friends and mourners besides Colonel Cary, and to show the then prevailing method of expressing grief and sympathy:

IN MEMORY OF THE LATE AMIABLE H. C.

Hast thou not seen the lucid ray of Even !

Far, in the west, diffuse its modest ray; And mark'd the bright, Cerulean beam of Heaven

Cheer and irradiate the Orient day?

Hast thou not seen Religion's powerful aid Fresh luster to the brow of youth, impart?

And Charity, in Cooper's form portray'd, Warm and ameliorate the human heart !

Yes — thou hast seen, meek gratitude express'd, Where beauty (lowly bends) to Virtue's shrine

And Pity's pure oraison, address'd

To Him, who bade Ethereal glories shine.

Wrap'd in the sable garniture of Woe,

Where pendent Cypress shades funereal gloom —

The muse, her plaintive requiem, taught to flow, And Friendship wept, at Cooper's silent tomb.

66 Hegento of a Jfrortfjern Count?

'Twas Thine, to animate life's swift career, Mild, modest, artless, innocently gay —

'Twas thine, to fill &&' higher, nobler sphere, With sainted spirits in the realms of day.

For thee sweet maid ! resplendent beams of thought, Wisdom's rich lore, by seraph's hands were given,

Thy spotless soul, the pure effulgence caught, It sparkled, was exhaled, and went to Heaven.

BY A YOUNG LADY.

Philadelphia, September 26th, 1800.

Death, ere thou has killed another, Fair, and learned, and good as she Time shall throw a dart at thee.

On the loth instant, departed this life, Miss Hannah Cooper, eldest daughter of Wm. Cooper, Esq. of Coopers- town. Her death was occasioned by a sudden fall from her horse, on the road between Cooperstown and the Butter- nutts, about one mile from the latter place —

The merit and accomplishments of this excellent young lady, who was universally respected, as she was extensively known, combined with the melancholy circumstances of her untimely exit, will long be remembered with mingled ad- miration and regret, by all who had the happiness of her acquaintance.

Her friends, her neighbors, and the forlorn objects of her compassionate bounties, will forever cherish, with avari- cious sadness, the endearing memory of her exemplary virtues — Her inconsolable Parents ! . . .

But who can paint their sorrow!

Can imagination trail amidst its vast creation, hues so sad !

3 (Srabeparb Romance 67

Cease, woe struck mourners, check the trickling eye, Full sacrifice enough to fortune's given; The treacherous earth, that smiles so seemingly, Teems big with death, and death's the debt of Heaven, Waste not in idle grief the silent hour, If shielded virtue gard the honest breast, Surrendering sorrow sheaths his blunted power, Death hides his sting and droops his baffled crest.

Rome, Sept. 29th, 1800.

Lines on the Death of an amiable and beautiful young lady at on Sept. loth, 1800 — by Mr.

Death took it in his empty skull He'd be a beau on next birth-day, And needs a nosegay he must pull To make him up a choice boquet.

To Beauty's garden straight he hied, With sweeping scythe her flowers to mow; "Your trouble spare" the owner cried, "By my advice to Otsego go. "

Tho' here fond bees for sweets may swarm, Their tasteless buzzings do not mind For there each grace that sense can charm, In one fair blooming flower you'll find.

Quick to this lovely fragrant rose His icy fingers he applies; Death's finest of fine birth-day beaux, For in his breast Hannah dies !

68 Hegenti* of a Jfrortfjern Count?

Her bloom's bequeathed to blushing morn, Her fragrance with the zephyrs blends ; But ah ! to whom is left the thorn ? Sharp in the bosom of her friends.

Miss HANNAH COOPER.

Sept. 24th, 1800.

MY DEAR FRIEND

The awful and calamitous visitation with which it has pleased the Almighty to afflict you and your dear Family, reached me yesterday.

To renew your grief by any offer of consolation is a hard task, but I cannot on this mournful occasion entirely sup- press the feelings of friendship — To say that I sympathize with sincerity is but a faint expression of my distress, no person acquainted with the dear deceased, could hear the melancholy tale with composure — but for me who pos- sessed a more than common friendship for her, it was dis- tressing in the extreme, mine was an affectionate and reverent friendship founded upon a long and intimate ac- quaintance with her uncommon worth — There is one circumstance, my friend which must be reflected upon with comfort — Her life — Her amiable and blameless life was such as to secure her an everlasting portion of that happy state, of which she was often thoughtfull — May we while we regret her absence endeavor to imitate her conduct.

The subject grows to painfull for me — Indulge me in one last affectionate and sincere Tear — it is a small tribute to her blessed memory.

Adieu.

RIC'D R. SMITH.

Philadelphia, September 2Oth, 1800.

8 ©rabeparb Romance 69

New York, 9 mo. 3Oth, 1800.

DEAR FRIEND —

I know it is but little a friend can say that may have much tendency to aleviate such pain and affliction, that the and thy family experience, in the loss of your dear Hannah — its but a few days past, since I read the afflicting account — My regard and love for her was such, I feelingly participate in mourning the loss of her.

The present fall I propos'd seeing Cooperstown, one of the pleasing circumstances I contemplated in the intended visit was to see and be with her, and the rest of the family — Thee knows, & I know, its much easier for the Tongue or Pen to speak on so affecting a subject than for the heart of the afflicted to experience what is said — however this we are confident of "that a sparrow falls not with- out his knowledge, much less man" — We see but little ahead, nay in comparison, none, the end of poor dear Hannah is extremely afflicting, but we know not wether ever after she would have been so well prepared for the great change —

I am sure her Father & Mother, with the rest of her rela- tions, have one consolation among many, in the remem- brance of her, which now must be the greatest of all, that is "she was a good girl, & I doubt not is gone to rest, a com- fortable hope of which will operate on the mind, so as in part to aleviate extreme mourning — not looking back but forward, hoping that we may be thus prepared, that when- ever it is our lot to bid adieu here, we may be likewise ready —

Farewell my dear friend, believe me to be thy very affectionate,

J. PEARSALL.

70 Hesenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

MY DEAR FRIEND

Just as I was determined to write you with every senti- ment of gratitude, Acknowledge your friendly letter was most sothing & flattering to my heart, the tender interest you appeared to take in my affairs, & the prudent & judi- cious council you gave, all confirmed the opinion I had long nourished of your Philanthropy & Friendly disposition to my much lamented Friend & all his family — Just as I had commenced my letter, Betsy with a most dejected counte- nance entered with a newspaper, exclaiming, Oh Mama poor Miss Cooper! What about her, oh read that most direful account —

How shall I address you on a subject so painful, my heart has from that moment sympathized with you, it revived all those painful ideas that the loss of my beloved son gave me, Yes my friend, I felt for you, I mourn your loss, She was a jewel of immense value to you & her friends — Yes it is over, the painful conflict is past, & she Blessed shade is at Peace. What abundant consolation will a retrospect of her short life afford you — and soon will you be convinced that she is far better off, than those who have the debt still to discharge — Soon must all, that now bask in the sunshine of prosperity, submit to the unrelenting hand of death, she has done her duty and will be rewarded — her character is sealed — nothing can now happen to disturb her or your repose.

The friend that weeps ore the grave of his departed friend this day, most assuredly shall, in a very short time be succeeded by his mourning relatives, there is a constant succession, we tumble in, one after the other, & yet mourn as if we had a lease for our lives — Death must not be viewed as the greatest evil — evil certainly no — We are deprived 'tis true of some good, but let us always act ration- ally & then we shall view every point on its proper ground —

S (Srabeparb Romance 71

Excuse the liberty I have taken in addressing you at this period, when your heart is still bleeding, I well know few people can pay acceptable visits to the afflicted, but a sympathy so powerful as I felt for you appeared to do away all ceremony & I felt myself compelled to offer you some consoling ideas — if anything I can say will for a moment mitigate the severity of your grief, I shall be rewarded for the anxiety the doubts have occasioned.

Her reign was short, & what is the product of the longest & best of lives, are they not evils strewed in every human path, can we traverse any without difficulty? No — a long life will evince the truth of this — the best & most fortunate can only obtain a character which time will efface — nothing permanent here — let us be wise in time & act justly on all subjects — then may we enjoy the blessings which are in our power.

May God bless you & yours, with health & every earthly blessing — is the sincere prayer of your Friend,

ANNE FRANCIS.

Philadelphia,

October 4th, 1800.

It is evident from the following and other letters, that Hannah had a premonition of death; perhaps she was what the Scotch call "fey."

MY DEAR FRIEND

On the 23rd Instant, I reed, a letter from Mr. A. Ten- broeck, containing the truly melancholy and distressing intelligence that Miss Cooper — alas! is no more! — this is an event, which at any time, and under almost any circum- stances would be very afflicting, and a loss irreparable, but the manner in which it has come, renders the same painful, distressing and afflictive, beyond imagination — In such

72 Hegettte of a JBtortftern Count?

case what can I offer, or say, by way of consolation? Indeed I have nothing — it would be well for me if I had — for verily I am not without much occasion for it myself — to say that your daughter was good and amiable, would be only saying what is well known to yourself, and all who had the happi- ness of her acquaintance, and would only perhaps be adding accumulated distress to the severest affliction. In one sense, this may be true — but in another it must be a source of inexpressible comfort and satisfaction and thereby afford some relief to your sorrow, and consolation under your bereavement — that while her great goodness and amiable- ness endeared her to all her acquaintances, they have made her meet for the Kingdom of Heaven, and prepared her to change her abode (and that in an instant, with hardly a momentary pause) from among mortals — a state at best of vicissitude, pain and sorrow, for an abode among the Blessed. Our loss is truly her gain — As sure as this con- sideration can assuage your own, and the grief of the Family on this melancholy catastrophe, and offered ground of con- solation, and surely it is of all others the greatest — it must be abundantly yours — During my visit with you last summer, which I must e'en think of with pleasure, tho' now mixed with much alloy, in some of my walks with Miss Cooper — once or twice in particular, when passing through that lonely mansion back of your house, of which she has now, alas ! become an inhabitant, I have heard her express the same sentiment which Mr. Tenbroeck mentions in his letter to me, which she had expressed in conversation with him and some others — but a few days before, nay but a day or two before her unhappy fate, of her belief or impression that her abode in this world would not be of long continuance — in one instance her words in answer to an observation of mine were — "if it should be as you say, thirty or forty years — what a moment — what a span — what a vapor — how in-

3 (Srabeparb Romance 73

significant compared with that state of existence which awaits me hereafter, how important that, of how little mo- ment this." Amiable woman — Too soon — alas! for thy friends, has thou realised thy apprehensions! Thy mild and gentle spirit has taken its flight from the present imperfect and chequer'd state of things to one more con- genial with thy native purity, excellence & virtue. It is ours to lament Hanah's death — tho' death to thee is great gain. My friend — what a dream — what a meteor — what a vapor — in the expressive language of your daughter, this state of things really is — all that makes it desirable is, the society and enjoyment of our friends — and we scarce find a friend when death or some unfortunate occurence or other snatches them from our embrace — so it is. It is our duty to acquiesce — but I am only paining yours, and my own feelings afresh, by recalling to recollection in so particular manner, the magnitude of our loss. Accept my sincere sympathy and condolence in the affliction of you and. yours, and of my best regards and good wishes. Farewell, God bless you,

Yours &c.

J. H. IMLAY.

Alentown, September 27th

1800. New Jersey.

DEAR SIR, AND UNFORTUNATE FRIEND,

It is impossible for me to describe to you, the keen anguish and sorrowful heart on the fatal news of the supreme dis- pensation of Heaven upon your virtuous, worthy and truly lovely daughter. My trembling hand dare hardly pre- sume to address itself to you on this truly melancholy event — but I rely entirely on your friendship to me.

74 Hegenbfii of a JBtortfjern Count?

Permit me therefore, my dear Sir,to mingle my abundant tears, and sincere ones, with yours, and the desolated family. Alas ! could I expect to hear such a dreadful recital, while I was enjoying silently, and within myself, the sweet hope of beholding once more — and within a short time — that un- commonly amiable mortal — could I but express myself in truer terms, or more sympathetical words, you would be convinced of the sincere part I take with you, and your dear family, on that unexpected, horrible ! event —

Be ye all convinced of my sincere sorrow, for your loss. I remain with true sentiments of high esteem, for you all. Your respectful servant

and afflicted friend,

HOUDIN.

Albany, September i5th, 1800.

Upwards of four score years passed over the village. The changes are many ; success crowns the work of some, and failure is the fate of others; families become pros- perous and prominent and others long established in the front rank of the social life of the town suffer vicissi- tudes and are forced to part with their old homes and materially modify their manner of life. Into these years are woven many an event of interest, some tragic, some amusing, and some scandalous, but all vital to the actors. From them I have selected two for repetition here; one a local tragedy and the other a state-wide scandal.

The tragedy is comparatively recent; while the scan- dal dates back a century and more :

a (Srabeparb Romance 75

About forty years ago a rich Southerner bought Lakelands, remodeled it, and proposed to make it his home. His family consisted of a wife, son, and daughter. The boy was a little wild. At this time there was liv- ing in the stone house near the head of the lake a very attractive young woman with whom the son fell desper- ately in love. She would, however, have none of him. He persisted in his attentions until one beautiful Octo- ber day he persuaded her to let him row her across the lake to Hyde Hall. All the way he urged her to marry him. As they reached the dock, he again asked her, adding: "This is the last time." She persisted in her refusal although he declared that he would shoot him- self unless she accepted him. He stepped from the boat, and standing on the dock blew out his brains. Not long after, the house was vacated by the family, sold, and never since has been occupied. Is it the shadow of this tragedy which hangs over it? Ever since it has been known as haunted. What form the "hant" appears in I cannot tell you, as no one living to-day ever spent a night in the house. There it has stood, gray, gaunt, and abandoned, gazing over the lake toward the scene of the tragedy.

Not long afterwards the boy's sister married and within a year died. One morning, while driving her team of horses at the Four Corners, the unhappy mother dropped the reins and fell back dead. Her

76 Hegente of a J^ortfjent Cotmtp

husband lived on for a time by himself until one day he was paralyzed and shortly died. Thus, in a few years, what seemed to be a prosperous family had dis- appeared entirely, and now almost is forgotten.

The scene moves back over a century; Richard Fenimore Cooper, who died in 1813, is living with his beautiful wife, Ann Gary, and a family of sons. Among his intimate friends is George Clarke, the builder of Hyde Hall. The relations between Ann and George were the subject of some scandal before Richard died. Very shortly after his funeral Ann went off with her admirer. She told my father that they were married at once; but the scandal was not quieted by the rumor that the new husband had a wife and family in Eng- land; as to them she said that he had secured an American divorce before she married him.

Some seven or eight months after the death of Rich- ard, Alfred Clarke was born. Was he a Clarke or a Cooper? That was the question which convulsed the society, not alone of Cooperstown, but of much of the State for years. His mother declared that he was Richard's son, but as he was born in lawful wedlock he was legally a Clarke, the son of George.

In time another son was born and named for his father, George. Alfred was one of my father's best friends. As time went on, he grew more and more like the Coopers until he became convinced that he really

& (Srabeparb Romance 77

was a Cooper, and he called himself Alfred Cooper Clarke. That he was not a Clarke seemed to be accepted by his legal father, as when he died he left Hyde Hall, and most of his property, to his second son George. It was a curious case of dual personality, for when some of the English Clarke property passed to the eldest son of George Clarke, it was Alfred who went to England and got it as the eldest son born in lawful wedlock.

When his mother, Ann, died, she left her property to Alfred; and it was Alfred's conviction that he was a Cooper which led him to leave Swanswick and other property to Theodore Keese and me on certain con- tingencies; and it was the blunder of a lawyer which prevented our inheriting it, as all the conditions which attached to our intended inheritance were fulfilled.

SOME ABANDONED HOUSES

AFTER a day spent in driving over the more secluded, but very beautiful, by-ways of the County, one is im- pressed by the disappearance, almost accomplished, of three of the most prominent features of old-time country life; the country gentleman; the country tavern and the country church. Perhaps they were so closely allied that the vanishing of the first destroyed the other two.

All over the countryside are to be found the aban- doned homes of one-time prosperous farmers; and fre- quently the more pretentious houses of the well-to-do land owner; the windows gone; the doors open and swinging in the wind ; and the flowers still growing and running wild in the old-time gardens.

The number of such abandoned places is appalling. Each year some of them either collapse under the at- tacks of the weather or burn up. In many of the more remote spots nothing is left but a cellar and a few rose bushes and apple trees, and great lilac bushes. Gradu- ally the rural population is shrinking to a strip of land along the better highways in the valleys.

Among the houses still standing are some of impor- tance in their day ; the old stone house at Butts Corners ;

78

feome Sbanfcaneti gouges 79

"Col. Dunbar's house," a little to the west, which must have been years ago a beautiful place, with its brick main building and huge wooden additions, and great trees on either side of the entrance. Now only the brick part stands, trembling to its fall; the great trees are only stumps ; while the wings can be traced, amidst the briars, by the cellar walls and ruins of the huge central chimneys.

There are still left some fine old frame colonial houses here and there; one near Stoney Lonesome; one on the Colliers road and others far back in the hills, among them the one near Geoweys Pond. Their days are numbered ; the best of workmanship and the finest ma- terial, unaided by man, soon yield to the elements in our northern climate.

One wonders why they were built ; and again why they were abandoned. It is easy to see, in the imagination, the one-time inhabitants; the gardens and living- rooms gay with youth; the playing children; the pros- perous men and women of middle life; and the older ones with their knitting and books by the fireside and on the porch. Where have they gone and why ? Have conditions of life changed so as to eliminate forever the country home?

When these great houses were built the owners probably held considerable tracts of land; part they cultivated and part they rented to farmers. Fuel was

8o Hesente of a Jlortfjern Count?

plenty and easily obtained from the woods, which came down to the meadows, and labor was cheap and con- tented with country life. The contrast between the luxuries and pleasures of life in the country and that in the smaller towns and cities was far less marked than it is now.

By degrees the land ran out ; fuel became scarce and dear; as did labor; savings were exhausted and the young people, lonely and discontented, went to the villages and cities. The more fortunate of the old people went to the graveyard; the others to the poor- house. I am told that the last occupant of Col. Dun- bar's house died on the county-farm.

Although the country is dotted over by these gaunt reminders of a life which has gone, in every stage of ruin, there is very little known of their actual history, and a singular dearth of legends such as might be ex- pected to attach themselves to such romantic objects. Most of the ghost stories and tales belong to the houses still occupied, the others stand lonely and often for- bidding, keeping within their empty walls and open doors and staring windows the mystery of their past and the story of their one-time occupants.

Col. Dunbar's house is an exception to this rule, as about it hangs a tradition, common enough in some neighborhoods, but unusual here — that of a secret chamber: it is very nebulous, as is the story of the old

£>ome .atmnboucb ^outfetf 81

house. There is no such room in the part which still stands, unless it is in the attic, which is wholly inacces- sible, so if it existed it must have been in one of the long-vanished additions. One story is that years ago a spy was hidden in this room; who he was, by whom hidden, from whom, and in what war are all alike for- gotten. Another tradition which goes more into de- tail, is, that about a century ago, either the owner of the house or one of his immediate family, was im- prisoned in Connecticut for some offense. Elaborate plans were made for his escape, including a relay of horses every five miles. When all was ready he fled, dressed in an extra gown worn into the jail by his wife. He was pursued by the sheriff and a posse. For a time the chase was hot, but the fugitive, availing himself of the fresh horses, gradually gained on his pursuers, who, as my informant said, had only " jaded mounts." He reached the Dunbar house far in advance and was hidden in the secret room. For months he lay con- cealed there, a "fugitive from justice," as the neighbors still call him. His hiding place, I was told, was beside one of the chimneys and had a scuttle opening on to the roof through which, when all was quiet, he was in the habit of escaping at night for exercise. This story seems definitely to locate the hiding place as beside the big chimney in the extension ; and it also tells of shelves used for linen as helping in its concealment.

82 Hegento of a Jlortfjern Count?

It was the custom in this country to combine wooden extensions with brick or stone main buildings, and most of the old houses followed this habit. Perhaps the funds of the owners became so impaired that a cheaper form of construction was adopted or the idea prevailed of a substantial main building for warmth during the long cold winters, into which the family withdrew, to blossom forth into the more commodious wings with the arrival of spring. I can recall about forty houses with field-stone main buildings and wooden additions, still occupied.

On and near Angel Hill are many large old houses long deserted and rapidly falling into ruin. One of them is especially interesting as it was abandoned some twenty-five years ago completely furnished, and even to-day much of the furniture is left; the bedsteads and feather beds are rotting on the bedroom floors ; carpets are covered in places with growing weeds and grass; great holes are in the floors; the roof and windows are largely gone, and one who explores its mysteries takes the chance of a bad fall.

The churches and the taverns lasted a little longer, as they were generally in or near the small hamlets ; but their time has come, and all over the country are closed churches and inns. The hamlets have not escaped and are rapidly shrinking.

I recall a beautiful old colonial church by a lakeside;

feome afcanboneb 3£ou*e* 83

the cushions are turned up in the pews to protect them from dust; the melodeon stands by the pulpit; the hymnbooks are in the racks; everything waits for the congregation which never comes.

Many of the hamlets have almost disappeared. A respect for their feelings prevents my calling the nearer ones by name. Of the more remote "Welcome" is typical ; it grew up around the junction of five roads ; a church; a couple of shops; and perhaps a dozen houses or so, with a post office and schoolhouse. It lies in the bottom of a bowl-like valley and one looks up on all sides to the horizon, outlined against the sky by the rolling bare hilltops. The church is closed, and the school; the post office has gone; the shop failed and shut up, because, as the only visible inhabitant told us, the people were too dishonest to pay their bills. Of the houses, seven are abandoned. It was early on a beauti- ful September afternoon ; not a soul was visible but our informant, who was not a resident, but was taking care of two old and infirm citizens of "Welcome." One of the houses was a really beautiful old Colonial house, spacious and in perfect condition. Its only surviving occupant was an elderly woman, who failed to open her door to repeated knockings. We asked the one visible human being if she wasn't lonely and how long she would stay; she said that she was, and that she didn't think she could stay much longer.

84 Hegenbtf of a J^ortfjent County

When, on a second visit, we were admitted to the old Colonial house, we found its sole occupant to be a de- lightful old woman of well on toward four score years, who invited us in and seemed glad of an opportunity to see and talk to outsiders. She told us how she had come there as a bride upwards of sixty years ago, and showed us over the really fine house, which was about a century old, and clean and neat as could be. Her husband had died years ago and her children were either dead or had long since moved to larger places; they took her to live with them in the winter time, she said, but every summer she returned alone to the old house. We talked of the past in "Welcome" and she told us how every seat in the abandoned church had been filled on Sundays. When I spoke of the schoolhouse which was falling down, she said sadly, ''There are no children now."

The old people will die, perhaps have died ; someone will close the houses, and " Welcome" will have nine, instead of seven, of its dozen homes abandoned. No wonder the cost of living goes up, when the productive land steadily grows less.

We left "Welcome" and looked back down on it with a feeling of relief, and even the short time we spent there was enough to give us a restless desire to leave and a dread of life in its silent and terrible loneliness. Truly " Welcome" has become "Farewell."

£>ome atianboneb J^outfe* 85

The story of our little manufacturing villages is the same; the factories have been forced by competition to close and the workmen and women have moved away.

We were rather rich in mills, and beautiful field-stone ones at that. The great stone building at Phoenix, after standing idle for years, was pulled down and used to build the new hospital at Cooperstown ; the dam has gone; the shop has fallen into the Susquehanna and most of the little village is abandoned or fallen down.

Hope Factory still stands on the main road to Col- liers— a beautiful stone building. We can only hope that modern commercial life can find some use for it. A quarter mile farther up the Oak Creek are the ruins of the Otsego Paper Mill; little but a chimney is left. Across the stream is Toddsville; the metropolis which grew up about this mill and the Union and Hope Factories. The workmen's houses are falling down, as are some of the better ones, but the fine old stone "store" still stands. The dam is gone, and of course with it the mill pond, with its multitude of white pond lilies and red cardinal plants.

Farther up the Creek are the broken dam and ruins of the grist mill at Fly Creek and, opposite them, the dilapidated saw mill. At Oaksville is a long vacant factory — the dam is gone, but the stone and brick buildings stand, and on the hill above them is the fine

86 3Ugenb£ of a J^ortfjcnt County

old stone superintendent's house, with its classical portico.

Many a fortune has been made at these different mills, and when I was a boy, they were still running at a profit to their owners; but the times were already get- ting difficult for them and they followed the country gentlemen, and preceded the church and tavern, into the limbo of things doomed by the ever-changing con- ditions of modern life.

The story of Clintonville or, as it was often called, Clinton Mills, is a good illustration of the fate which is overtaking most of the small manufacturing hamlets of the County. Less than fifty years ago, it was a thriv- ing little village on the Susquehanna, some two miles above Milf ord ; there was the usual dam and factory or mill; a street lined with houses; a shop, and a railroad station where the trains stopped regularly, and all the life and activities of a thriving and contented rural community. To-day the dam, the factory, and all of the houses and buildings, except four, have vanished completely. Of these four, two are abandoned and falling down ; the other two are occupied, but when the temporary demand for houses is over they too will be vacated and fall into decay. I doubt if many of the people living in the neighborhood to-day know that the place ever had a name. All these evidences of a dying countryside are sad,

&>ome SKmnboneb Jpou*e* 87

but they lend a sentimental charm to a beautiful country.

One sometimes finds a more cheering reminder of the past; in a very exclusive, walled-in burying ground near the highway, on the east side of the lake, is a tomb- stone which, after the usual inscription, giving the date of death as upwards of a century ago, sets forth the following all-sufficient epitaph:

She was born in Boston

Poor thing! Imagine the humiliation of having to die in Otsego.

THE RED— THE BLACK— AND THE WHITE

MAN

AN old letter or document, an arrow or spearhead, or any little personal belonging of those who are long dead, and whom we never saw, often is sufficient to arouse the imagination, and to call the owner or writer back from oblivion, to move for a time through our vision; while the image thus created may not be true to the original in form or appearance, at least it has some of his mental and moral traits, preserved by his handiwork.

The thousands of letters and documents which have survived from the years between 1750 and 1850, can repeople for us this country, and clothe it with an air of romance which may have been lacking, in the hard lives of the frontiersmen and women. Just so our Indian relics and legends fill the woods once more with red huntsmen and warriors, squaws and papooses. We cannot all see them, but the favored amongst us can; it is one of the sublime gifts of the very young ; within a year I saw the touzled yellow head of a youngster, hidden in the tall grass, with ready bow and arrow, watching for the expected red warrior.

88

, JSlacfe, anb JJUjttc iWan 89

The red man and the earlier settlers we know only in this way. The black men, mentioned here, I knew personally in every instance but one; and the growth and changes of the town and country have taken place, for nearly three score years, under my eye.

The red man left few traces of his stay of unknown centuries at Otsego; the apple trees, and probably the remains of a clearing near the entrance to the Cooper grounds, were the only visible evidence of his occupancy of the land for a part, at least, of each year; but hidden by the woods and underbrush, there were other signs of his occupation ; in places, just under the surface, were found the ashes of his camp fires, and pieces of his rude pottery, and of broken or lost stone implements and weapons; in other places were the bones of the long dead and forgotten residents.

There is the old Chief behind the River Street wall, and two skeletons were found in the Fernleigh grounds. In the fields, on the east side of the Susquehanna, in- cluded in Fernleigh-Over, have been discovered great numbers of Indian remains of all kinds. It was either the scene of a prehistoric battle, or used as a burying ground. I think that the evidence favors the battle- field. Long ago, when it was merely farmland and frequently cultivated, we used to follow the plow to collect the stone weapons and tools which were turned up every year. The large number of spearheads, arrow-

90 Heaenbg of a Jlortfjern Count?

heads, and stone axes, with occasional bones, suggested a great battle.

Once, when a tree blew down, clutched in the fork of two roots, and overgrown with bark, was an Indian skull. A wounded warrior had dragged himself to the foot of the tree and there, with his head pillowed be- tween two roots, died.

Whether the mound in the northeast corner of this field is an Indian burial mound or not has never been determined, but in it have been reburied the bones from time to time found in the neighborhood. The late Mrs. Potter had the tablet which marks it carved and placed where it is. Walking about the grounds one autumn day, Dr. Battershall came upon this tablet and mound and wrote on an old letter the following lines :

MORTUI TE SALUTAMUS

White Man, Greeting : We, near whose bones you stand, were Iroquois. The wide land which now is yours was ours. Friendly hands have given back to us enough for a tomb.

(Inscription, Fernleigh.)

Engraved upon a stone on a fair lawn, Where, from the bosom of the mountain lake, The Susquehanna takes its winding way, And feels its first strange hunger for the sea, I read these words, in which a vanished race Gives salutation and pathetic thanks For deathly wound and sepulture.

Alas!

JBlacfe, anb iHfjite JWan 91

Such meed and recompense to those swart tribes Who held the marches of the wilderness And threw their fealty in the quivering scale That gave the Saxon empire of the West !

Their shades move on the pictured page of him, Who, on this spot flung o'er their savagery The Magic of Romance. Their stealthy feet Creep through the enchanted forests of our youth, But creeping ever to the eventide, Where vanish shades of outworn types.

Farewell!

And greeting to yet happier hunting-grounds, Sons of the twilight, martyrs of the dawn, Caught in the logic and the thrust of things ! The weak give way that stronger may have room For sovereign brain and soul to quell the brute. Thus, in the epic of this earth, harsh rhythms Are woven, that break the triumph-song with moans And death cries. Still rolls the eternal song, Setting God's theme to grander, sweeter notes, For us to strike, righting old savageries That linger in the twilights of the dawn.

Upon this sculptured stone, memorial

Of sacrificial life, the cosmic word

I read, the mystic music of the worlds.

WALTON W. BATTERSHALL.

Fernleigh, June 24, 1903.

Evidently arrow makers had lived and followed their trade at two spots on the banks of the Susquehanna; one on the east side, at the end of the grounds of River-

92 Hegenbi of a Jlortfjern Coutttp

brink, where a cool spring emptied into the river, and the other, on the west bank, at the foot of a great pine, the stub of which stood for years in the field just below the old Hooker place. At each of them there was a great accumulation of chips of flint and broken or par- tially finished arrow and spear heads; they could be gathered from the bottom of the river at any time.

In the Cooper burying ground, lying at right angles to the graves and near the surface, is the skeleton of a man. He was first disturbed when Susan Fenimore Cooper's grave was dug. There was nothing found to identify him. He was probably an Indian, but possibly Levi Kelley who was hung for murder in the year 1827, and is said to have been surreptitiously buried in the graveyard.

By many historians Brant is considered the greatest of Indian chiefs; he was an intimate friend of Sir William Johnson and was the brother of Molly Brant, Sir William's housekeeper, who was the mother of most of Sir William's children ; and who may have been mar- ried to Sir William by some Indian ceremony. If the following "memorial" is true, Brant in some ways shines by comparison with certain of his white con- temporaries. It is endorsed, "A Memorial of John Tunnicliff Sufferings"; is dated twenty years after the sufferings complained of and shows, at least, a good memory and a tenacious pursuit of compensation.

, Placfe, anb EHfjtte ftlan 93

A Memorandom of the sufferings & the Many losses Sus- tained by the subscriber, from The hands of the Contenental Troops &c. When Sir John Johnson and Several Others in Try on County was disarmed, I with many Of the inhabi- tants was Brought to Major Funday's on the Mohawk River where we Took the Oath Newtrality and signed a bond on promise of being protected.

On the loth day of August 1778 the inhabitants of our Back Settlements was partly Obliged to fly from their farms, while the other part was apprehended & Brougt down Prisoners — together with our horses — Cows — & Sheep — which were drove in the front while We prisoners were Strongly guarded with fixt? Bayonets and if we did Not Please the Captain and his party, with our Manner of Traveling — we were obliged to mend our pace On the point of their fixted Bayonets, — thus we were compeled to march till we came Near Cherry- Valley where a halt was made, until a drum & fife arived, — then we were conducted to the Fort, by the Rogues March — when we came Near the fort — we was drawn up in a line at which time — insult followed insult, — the Officers & Soldiers first coming to one — And telling him that he Should Be hanged — & then to another & so on till the last pointing out the different deaths we should Suffer, — when their threatnings and diversion was over We was Commanded to March under a Strong guard — towards albany — we did so — but was Ordered to halt under the Gallows, — where we received another sort of ill treatment — Ruff Challinging the Cloths upon our Backs & Saying we Stole them from the solders — by this time a large Mob was collected by which we were Con- duced—with Shouts— Huzzas Throwing Of dirt & Musick playing the Rogues March till we was Locked up in a dungeon — their kept Close till the remainder of our property was Wantonly taken.

94 Hegetrtig of a JBtortfjern Cotmtp

My dwelling house — deary house Barn Stables & Sheep house all consumed by fire. My Crops of hay corn & Buildings, with my household goods & farmary working tools — together with a large Quantity of good Cheese with a eleven Stands of Beehives well filled — the which at that time was worth one Thousand pounds — all intirely dis- trowed, — My Neighbours & fellow Sufferers Oblidged to support themselves by working — from house to house — & to accomplish the whole — and a rightfull Coullouring on their unjust proceedings — were published in the Common Print as Enemies to the country.

The above Mentioned Cows were Sixteen in number all very good — which was drove Before me to Cherry- Vally — which I have Never seen Since — Nor received any thing in lew of them — the Number of Sheep that was then taken from me was forty three — I suppose Equal to the Best sheep in America — one of which was an English Ram Which Cost me a Journey to England — Six lambs I purchased But five of them died On the voyage — My Young stock of horned Cattle (Seven in Number) I received again the which I found on the south east side of hudsons River — by the help of a Replevy & the Sheriff of Albany — this Young stock was put to grass by William Hudson Ballard — Cap- tain of the sixth Massachusetts Rigement — who com- manded the party of soldiers which took Me & my property from my house — Some part of my horses I got Again & a part I received some pay for — the Commissioners used me well they said Not any Body had any Business with me — Mr. Jerr Van ransselear went to the Governor To know what to do — the Governour ordered General Starks to be sent out of albany and said he was as bad as the Indians — John M. Beckman being present the Tears came in his eyes when he heard my Complaint — Matthew Visher said I must after The war Sew any one that had any of My property

, antJ JUfjite jfttan 95

in his hand or had been possest with it — Said I had a Just right to Sew for it — and if I could not find such people — They would pay me for it — but I said Your Money is grow- ing worse & might be But little help — he said I should be paid with such Money as would Buy me as good a Stock as I had lost — this hath been the Cause of my Not seeking Relief Sooner — for I was very desirous of knowing what was be- come of Wm. Hudson Ballard Who was the Man that com- manded the Soldiers to take Me & my Property — the last year I was told he was dead — as I am likely to be caled upon for quit Rents for my Estate which I was at that time in possession — part of which is sold to put me & my Family in a way to live — I was kept off my farm for the space of Seven Years — Which on My return was a Bed of Briers — without either fence or Building I was obliged to sell up- wards of a thousand acres of land to help — put my family farm & Stock in a way to live — But that was not Sufficient — for the farm is Still Much in debt — I have Not given any deed, to Subject those who purchased to pay the Quit Rents — this is in danger of Ruening Me — who was the cause of sending Such a gang of soldiers which consisted of old privateers men — for had these been our own Militia we could have found them again after the war — if honesty & Industry is to give place to such usage — then Roguery is the only thing that Will flourrish — when I was in my Strength & prosperity in the space of Twenty Years I Never Cleared so Much value as I lost By Captain Ballard. At the Time Springfield was cut of — the Indians Came Back past My house with Several of the Inhabitants Prisoners — as soon as the first Indians came up they said we are Come for some of your Stock — for the prissonors to live upon — or we must unavoidably Starve — I told them I had taken the Oath of Newtrality & signed a Bond & was fully Resolved Not to do any thing to the contrary — I

96 ICesenb* of a J^ortfjern Count?

asked them who was their Commander they said he was behind — when he came up they pointed to an Indian which they said was Captain Brant — I told him My Condition & Beged him to go his way — he said he could not his prisoners must starve — upon My giving him flat denial — one of the party came to me & said for God's sake what are you about if you have any regard for life let them have some stock — Captain Brant said if you will go & your family & stock you shall be paid for what we take — and what is left behind your losses shall be made good & you shall be well used. I said I had Rather die on the spot — when I see I could not get shut of them I told one of -the Boys to turn out a Couple of cows — but I neither would Turn them out nor set any price on them, but Brant said I should be paid for them — soon after peace was proclaimed — then Captain Brant Sent me down Twelve pounds Halifax Money for my Two Cows.

JOHN TUNNICLIFF. Otsego June 30th AD 1798

Poor John Tunnicliff ! He cuts rather a sorry figure ! Evidently a tory, and apparently an associate of Sir John Johnson's and doubtless of Walter Butler's he emerges from obscurity and passes before us merely because his petition has survived; and to emphasize the inferiority of some of his race to the vanished red man.

The two following documents are all else we know of him. He evidently suspected his neighbors near Cana- joharie. We wonder whether he ever found his cows or got paid for them, and can't help hoping that he

J?lacfe, anb JUfjtte iflan 97

didn't. He must have lived somewhere not far from the village of Springfield and probably between it and the Mohawk. He went up and down through the wilderness seeking his property :

The Bearer John Tunnicliff has our Permission to go to the House of one Robert Nellis, or wherever he may be in Tryon County for the purpose of obtaining his Property in the Possession of the said" Nellis in an amiable way without having recourse to law for a recovery of the same. This pass to continue in force for the space of fourteen days from the date. Albany yth October 1780

MAT VISSCHER ) Commissioners SAML STRINGER > for

ISSAC D. FONDA ) Conspiracies

By Samuel Stringer John M. Beeckman & Jer V. Rens- selaer Commissioners for detecting & defeating Conspiracies fee.

Permission is hereby Granted to John Tunnicleaf & John Rowbottom to pass and repass from this City to the Butternuts in Tryon County, they having given surety for their peaceable Conduct and to Return again to this their present place of abode on or before the eighth day of October next.

Given under my hand by order of the Board

JER V. RENSSELAER one of the Board.

Albany 2ist Sep, 1780. To all concerned

98 Hesenbtf of a Jlortfjem Count?

On a very early list of the owners of the Croghan Patent, made by R^ Smith, "John Tuniclift" is set down as owning three thousand acres "near the Oaksne," but his name does not appear on the old maps.

The following bill rendered at about the time of John's misfortune shows the activities of the militia and how they were fed :

June 29th 1777 General Harkemans Bill then sent by General Harkemans desire 3 1 ft). Cheses to Chery Valey for Ofisers on thare Persueat after the Indians on the Susque- hanna.

Wate 50 ft), at on shilling 2.10.0

I supose as the Melishe might be 250 men Which staid all night 10.0.0

I2.IO.O

June 29th 1777, on thare return they Eat me a Larg Oven full of Bred and as much Chees as tha Liked and 18 Cows milk Night and Morning and all night 17 Horses in the Moeing ground.

Brant did burn Springfield, but no one was killed and, had he been in command when Cherry Valley was attacked, probably many of the horrors of that massacre would have been prevented.

The black man almost has disappeared from our coun- try; where once he filled an important place. In the early days negroes were bought and sold and most of the colored people of the village were descended from

Bcti, $lacfc, anb JEfjttc jfflan 99

slaves brought here by the early settlers. Judge Cooper brought some with him as did the Husbands and other families. Among the existing old papers are many bills of sale of negroes, men, wenches, and children. It was a kindly servitude, where the slave had all the comforts of life and often the affection and friendship of the master.

Joseph Stewart, "The Governor," was for 30 years butler and body servant at Otsego Hall and its prede- cessor. He now lies in the corner of the Cooper burying ground, while "Joe Tom" and "Jennie York" lie in the easterly part of Christ Churchyard, in what was long and disrespectfully known as "Nigger Heaven."

Jennie's unique epitaph "She had her faults, but was kind to the poor ' ' has made her famous. For years all of it had sunk out of sight except the words : "Jennie York : She had her faults." Poor Jennie! She was an in- veterate thief, but stole largely to give to her poorer or less fortunate friends.

Of all the colored folk of Cooperstown "Joe Tom" easily stands first. He once belonged to the Husband's family. Never was a blacker black man, never a bigger one in every way, and never a more talented one. He played the triangle for young and old to dance; he cooked at all picnics, and his chowder was wonderful; he rowed the boat and shouted to Natty Bumppo op- posite the echo; he rang the church bell and warmed

ioo Hegente of a JBtortfjern Coimtp

the church, and, with the same cheerful smile and kindly manner, he dug the grave and buried the dead — or those of them who died in the Episcopal faith or had other good claim to a place in Christ Churchyard. Like most of his race, in those days, he was a great respecter of persons, and as he grew older more and more drew a sharp social line.

When his time came, and he joined his people in "Nigger Heaven," all the town mourned, and the youth of the village, to whom dollars looked bigger than cart wheels, bought and put up his stone by subscription. I can still hear his triangle tinkle; see his gleaming teeth, and hear his stentorian voice calling off the ' Ag- gers" of the square dances.

Looking back through the vista of nearly three score years, one can see many other dusky faces — with glit- tering teeth and bright eye — all kindly — all helping to make life attractive: there was "Joe," old Joe Tom's daughter, and Charlie Burhans. Charlie never was young so far as I can remember. He was the great Nimrod of his people. He resembled a huge bundle of rags. Apparently he never discarded any clothing, but merely added anything he acquired from time to time. He had an enormous muzzle-loading gun, and the most wonderful and indescribable stutter. When he tried to speak his whole face shook and his jaw fairly danced. Charlie's favorite game was ground hogs, of

, JSlacb, anil UHljitc jtflan 101

which he was very fond. Unhappy was the woodchuck which Charlie located. He always got him in the end. One would see, in a field, a motionless drab object, which might be a stone or a pile of old cloth or bags, but which was Charlie. It moved slowly and at long intervals — for the woodchuck it was death, certain and relentless.

Henry Williams was an aristocrat among his people — tall, straight, and handsome ; he hunted with the white sportsmen of the village, particularly with old Dan Boden. Many are the partridges which I have seen them flush in Bowers' woods along the river and lake ; Hen, with the dog, would follow the woods while Boden poled a boat and shot over the water. They were a striking pair; Boden with his white hair, tall and slender, and as good-looking for one race as was Williams for the other.

In those times democracy reigned, at least among the whites. There played with us a little black boy, Johnnie Jackson, who felt his color so much that he used to say that, if it would make him white, he would willingly be skinned alive. What became of Johnnie and Hen Williams I don't know — they just faded out of life.

Another character of the colored people was Black Dick. He looked after old William Averell and drove his team of black^coach horses and great coach, so large that it was familiarly known as "the Ark."

102 Hegenb* of a J^ortftern Count?

Dick was the last of the old colored body servants who made life easy and pleasant for their masters. When years ago "Marse Averell" died and was buried by old "Joe Tom" in Christ churchyard, Dick was inconsolable. Soon stories were being whispered about town of a ghostly figure seen in the churchyard, which seemed to rise from the ground and move slowly about. Many townspeople claimed to have seen it, and the timid avoided the streets about the graveyard after dark.

Those were the days of real darkness too ; the streets were only lighted, here and there, by a kerosene lamp, and the wayfarer after dark carried a lantern, generally with a candle in it. The writer well remembers the blackness of those nights, an impenetrable blackness which seemed to rise before one like a wall ; this gave a ghost a great advantage.

The stories of the "hant," seen moving in the depth of the graveyard, were so persistent, that finally a com- mittee of the braver spirits of the town decided to spend a night among the graves watching. In due time they were rewarded; a shadowy form was seen to rise and move about old Averell's grave. After the first shock was over, they closed in on the ghostly visitant and found old Black Dick; faithful even after death, he crept nightly to his master's grave, and watched and mourned over it. His grief had unsettled his mind, and he lived but a short time.

, anb ZJUntc jftlan 103

These Red Men and Black Men were — many of them —white in heart and soul, more so perhaps than some of the dominant race, which gradually crowded them out of our countryside.

The books of Judge Cooper and of the Settlement Shop teem with intimate details of the early life of the village and county. In one is an agreement of employ- ment, which is a bit of a shock to us in its recognition of the personal liberty of the employed in allowing him "the last day in each month in which to get drunk." An honest recognition of human frailty and of one of the very common pleasures of frontier life in those days.

Judge Cooper, when he rented his house for the winter of 1798, paid two dollars a week board for any members of his family who remained in it and three shillings extra per person when he "makes a dinner for his friends " and "on all occasions finds his own liquors."

In one is written the contract for all the carpenter work on the Old Stone House. It is worth repeating as showing the informality of such transactions in those days. The house is here to speak for the honesty of the contractor.

Articles of Agreement made this fifth day of November, 1803, Between William Cooper and Cyrenus Clark — viz: the said Cyrenus Clark agrees to do all the Carpenter and Joiner work that is and ought to be done of in and to a cer- tain Stone House that the said William is now about erecting

104 Uegenbs of a Jfrortfjent Count?

on the corner of Water and Second Streets in length forty two feet and in Breadth Thirty six feet to be finished in a masterly and workmanlike manner from the bottom of the Seller to the turning of the Key of the Front Door. The work to be done in the following manner — good and work- manlike stairs from the Seller to the Trap Door on the Roof — to have four Rooms on the first Floor a hall and China Room to be wainscotted with Pine Work and every other way finished as a House wherein the said William now lives. The second story to be laid off with a Hall and five Rooms and finished in like manner as the house wherein the said William now lives. There are to be nine windows in front, four windows in the Gable and East besides the Garret Windows and two in the Garret in the West End, five windows in the rear. The said William Cooper to find all the materials for said House of every kind and the said Cyrenus Clark to find himself and hew all Timber for said House. The Front Door to have a handsome Portico with seats. Two outside Seller Doors and the said Cyrenus is to receive for all said work five hundred Dollars.

WILLIAM COOPER CYRENUS CLARK

The miscellaneous character of the currency in cir- culation in Cooperstown, in 1796, is shown by a deposit sent to an Albany Bank by Judge Cooper :

2560 Dolls, in Silver 935>^ " " Paper 540 Crowns 36 E. Guineas 7 Half "

, JSlacfe, anb Wjite jfttan 105

Half Joes £i734-i2

15 French Guineas 6^ Pistoles i Moidore The cash taken at the Bank 4,461 Dolls, and 50 cts.

A cosmopolitan settlement: I doubt if New York could do much better to-day. There should be added to this list, Pork, Ashes, Maple Sugar, and Wheat, all of which passed as currency — but not at the Bank.

Here are some things told by the account book of the Settlement store :

Charity Graves bought four pair of stockings for £i. II sh. in 1807; Ralph Worthington bought a quart of rum for himself on June 27, 1807, for 2 s & 2 d and a piece of ribbon for his wife at 6d; On June 29, Abner Graves had a pint of rum for i sh ; Abner had rum and brandy and sugar every few days. Trinity Church had an account and once, at least, bought rum, but most of its purchases were for Christ Church building. Recompense Graves was a great buyer of rum and sugar and tea. A quart of rum lasted about two days. He or she, I know not which, was fond of fine clothes, as the account opens with eighteen yards of muslin at 2 sh. a yard and closes with three and one half yards of velvet at 9 sh. a yard.

The account books of those days were quite gossipy and went much into detail. We know from them for

io6 ILegenbi of a Jlortfjern Count?

whom the purchases were made, and what the debtor did and where he lived :

Herman Pier of Pierstown bought an Umbrella for 19 sh. John M. Bowers bought "3^ yds. of 'Velvet' Ribbon for Mrs. B." in Feby. 1807; "i Ib. Hyson Tea for Felix 12 sh." and on May 7 "i Umbrella for self 19 sh." "Mrs. Ann Carey of Springfield" and Miss Carey bought great quantities of gloves and household supplies. Ziba Roberson bought silk for his wife. Judge Cooper bought many things for " Betty" and "Sarah" and Mrs. Ransom and some things for Allen and gave a pair of blankets to Walker; all in 1807.

The "Waste Book" kept by R. R. Smith when he ran the Settlement store and dated 1790-2 is less in- timate in its entries but curious as showing frontier prices:

John Rooseboom paid 8 sh. for a shovel and Jacob Morris 10 sh. I d for a pair of shoes. Rum in those years cost 5 sh & 6d. a gallon, and there was an immense quantity sold. Tea was 3 sh 6d a pound and stockings 5 sh & lod a pair. Calico was 5 sh. a yard and thimbles 3d. A spelling book cost I sh. 8d (which may explain some bad spelling) and Blankets £i 12 sh. a pair.

Other things than books tell tales of those times: two little silver spoons — tied with a pink ribbon and marked "H. D.," small, light, very thin, and showing the marks of teeth in the bowls — vividly suggest their

, JBlacfe, anb Hfflfjite iWan 107

one-time owner, Helen Dunbar. When she lived and died the spoons unfortunately cannot tell us, but we know where — in Colonel Dunbar 's old house, part brick and part wood, now abandoned; the brick part standing with open doors and windows; surrounded by its over- grown gardens and lawns; its ornamental trees cut down ; its wooden additions vanished and its great out- buildings flattened to the ground. Somehow these spoons have the magic touch to restore the great house and its surroundings, and we see it again teeming with life. Among the phantoms, Helen Dunbar, small, dainty, attractive, surrounded by friends and admirers, without a thought of the dismal fate the future held for the old house.

Then there are six great silver forks which tell an- other story. They are marked " M " f or ' ' Morehouse ' ' and belonged to the builder of Woodside. They nearly cost their owner his election years ago. In those days two -pronged forks, of base metal, were good enough for anyone, and four-pronged silver forks were the badge of intolerable aristocratic tendencies.

In the heat of the campaign, Judge Morehouse's opponent made against him the terrible charge of being at heart an aristocrat, and, in proof of it pointed to these heavy four-pronged silver forks which he accused the Judge of actually using at his daily meals.

The battle waged fiercely, but Judge Morehouse won.

io8 Hegenbg of a JBtortljent Count?

After his victory he gave a great reception to his friends and opponents. It was doubtless one of those old- fashioned country parties, where the first guest arrives about noon and ties his team to a tree, and the last leaves about two A.M. In the center of the dining- room, in open and jeering defiance, hung from the ceil- ing, a dozen of those heavy four-pronged silver forks.

It was Judge Morehouse who gambled away Wood- side at Hyde Hall, and who after moving out never looked at it until he was able to buy it back again. It is said that when daily he crossed Main Street he always turned his face to the west so as not to see his old home.

The village of Cooperstown was favored, beyond most towns of its size, in the character of its residents and visitors. Among the former was a long list of very able and well-known men and the latter included some of the best known men of their times, here and abroad. Its hospitality was most lavish, its society delightful and cultured, and the struggle for life and money, if it ex- isted, kept well in the background. The churches were numerous and prosperous; the former due to Judge Cooper's announcement that he would give a lot to any religious society which would put up a building. One of the treats of my youth was to see the Baptists dipped in the Susquehanna at the outlet of the lake. We always went hoping that one at least would slip from the parson's grasp and drift off down the river;

, JBlacfe, anb JUfnte dfWan 109

but I don't remember that any ever were lost in this way.

The town in those days was relatively and actually a much more important place than it is now. All of the big houses, now closed for most of the year, then were the homes of their owners and open and occupied all the time except for an occasional trip away by some of the family. There were no factories in the village, but it was the market town of a very rich and prosper- ous farming community. The Main Street, from the Cooper grounds west, was lined with hitching posts, and, on Saturday afternoons, every one had a team tied to it while the farmer and his wife, and often his children, did their shopping.

For years hops made this country rich, and built many of the great farmhouses still standing. The Otsego County hop was considered the best grown in the world. Every one grew hops and it was thought that they couldn't be grown anywhere in this country except in our neighborhood. Extraordinary profits were made and it was not unusual for a hop grower to make the value of his farm out of one crop. Prices once reached one dollar and sixty cents a pound and the cost of production was about twelve cents. The crop was a very speculative one, which added to its interest. Buyers came from everywhere and thou- sands of " pickers" from the neighboring cities.

1 10 Hegente of a Jlorrtjent Count?

This hop-picking time was not without its suppressed excitements. Much hard liquor was absorbed and the usual number of free rights resulted. Before and after the actual picking began and finished, great crowds of tramps and city toughs gathered in camps in the woods and rumors of intended raids on the town were frequent. The law-abiding citizen got out and oiled his revolver and became an actual menace to his neighbor.

The police force showed unwonted activity and the oil lamps were allowed to burn all night, instead of only until eleven P.M., the normal retiring hour.

The police force of those days was unique. It com- bined inefficiency with charity. There were two mem- bers, both cripples, who patrolled the town together, during the perilous days of "hop picking." One of them had one leg and two arms, and carried a lantern — the other had two legs and one arm and carried a club. However, they proved ample protection against the raids which never came off. Many a time has the writer, with his companions, listened to the tales of ad- venture of this patrol, told on a street corner by the dim light of their lantern.

Hop City vanished with the passing of the hop. Its buildings lined the river road from the Fly Creek road to that to Phoenix. It was on the land of "Jimmy" Clark — perhaps the largest hop grower in the neighbor- hood. He had well over a hundred acres in his yards

&eb, JSlacfe, anb TOtte jKIan 1 1 1

and employed between six and seven hundred city pickers. They had to be housed and fed and taken care of. To meet this demand, Hop City grew up. It had its jail, its court room, its restaurants and, of course, its dwellings. Jimmy organized a rough and ready municipal government. Justice was adminis- tered and order maintained by selected members of as tough a community as ever collected anywhere.

The great weapon of government was the retention of the pickers' pay until the season was over, and they themselves actually on the special train for home. Then when the train started the pay was distributed. The pickers were more attracted by the life in the country and the gayeties of the season than by the money earned. Everything was furnished them — transportation, food, housing, and amusements. Those were dark days for the housewives of Cooperstown as all the "help" insisted on the privilege of going "hop- picking."

Then the change came; it was found that inferior hops could be grown on the Pacific Coast and elsewhere. Our Otsego growers were undersold and gradually the hop industry shrank; the growers failed and the yards were plowed up. Farms, which in the writer's youth changed hands readily at twenty-five thousand dollars, now fail of a buyer at five. Notwithstanding its specu- lative character, the days when "Hops were King"

1 12 Hegente of a Jfrortfjern Count?

were the Golden Age of Otsego County and Coopers- town. With the collapse came poverty to many — farms were abandoned and money loaned on them was lost.

Cooperstown had its land boom in the seventies, when it was really a great summer resort; prices soared and the tale ran that "Josh" Storey went up one side of a street and Frederick Phinney up the other buying every- thing at the seller's price.

The town was crowded with summer guests, and the lake with boats. All the desirable spots along the river bank were labeled: "Lovers' Retreat," "Calypso's Bower," "Shady Nook," and similar signs attracted the idle pleasure seeker.

One case of typhoid fever following a stay at the principal hotel punctured this bubble. More money was lost. Then began the gradual development of the town and country along the lines which have brought them the prosperity they now enjoy.

The various histories of the town are filled with anecdotes of its more distinguished visitors and resi- dents, and to them the reader is referred with the hope that these sketches may have excited sufficient interest to induce him to delve farther into our local history and traditions, and perhaps even search for himself among the musty and yellowed documents and letters, now laid aside, but once such a real part of someone's life.

A GREAT HIGHWAY

THE earliest highways followed the important streams; partly because of the easy grade, but prin- cipally because the first settlements were on the rivers. When the land lying away from the streams began to be settled, the new towns were reached by short roads running back to them from the nearest river. In this way the settlements on Otsego Lake first were reached by a road from the Mohawk to the head of the lake, near Hyde Hall, and then by boat down the lake. In 1790 the road from East Springfield to Cooperstown was built down the east side of the lake and at about the same time, or a little later, the road to Cherry Valley was made. It is likely that there were very rough wood roads in use on the line of many of the present routes before real roads were opened.

When traffic justified it, about 1798, the Second Great Western Turnpike, so called, was built. It ran west from Albany, paralleling the Mohawk Highway, and linking together by one great road the various settlements along the ridge between the Mohawk and the Catskills; among them Duanesburg, Esperance, s 113

1 14 Hegento of a JBtortftern Count?

Sloansville, Carlisle, Sharon, Sharon Springs, Cherry Valley, the Springfields, Richfield, and so on to Syracuse.

The route is a beautiful one ; following the top of the ridge until it sinks into the sand plains west of Albany. The views are wonderful in places ; the most celebrated is between Cherry Valley and Sharon where the whole Mohawk Valley lies spread out under the eyes of the traveler, hemmed in by the distant Adirondacks.

It is hard for us to realize that the building and open- ing of a great highway, a century and a quarter ago, was as important an event as the building of a railroad or great canal is to-day, perhaps even more so, as roads were few then.

As first planned, it was to run "westward from the house where John Weaver now lives in the town of Watervliet to the house where John Walton now lives in the town of Cherry Valley" ; the toll gates were to be at intervals of ten miles and everything that moved was to pay toll, except churchgoers on their way to and from public worship and persons going to or from any mill; those in search of spiritual or physical food were not taxed. The immediate purpose of the incorpora- tion of the highway was to raise funds for the rebuild- ing of the bridge over the Schoharie-kill at Esperance which had been carried away by the ice in the Spring of 1798. Later the road came east to Snipe Street in Albany and west to Syracuse.

£1 <!5reat ^igfttoap 115

This road was built by the corporation and a good deal of the stock went to pay the builders. Judge Cooper built six miles and was paid in stock. I do not know its value then, but in 1802, Jeremiah Van Rensselaer paid $1250 cash for fifty shares. Its par value was forty dollars in 1799, and was later increased to seventy and then to ninety. When the tolls collected amounted to sufficient to repay the cost of the road the corpora- tion was to be dissolved and the road itself revert to the people of the State. This day never arrived, but some years ago the road was abandoned by the Com- pany and thus returned to the State.

When the road was finally finished and opened to travel, the enthusiasm of its owners was great; they had visions of tremendous earnings and began to make plans for spending them; the bridges were all to be of stone, and one enthusiast planned lighting the highway. His optimism can be appreciated when we remember that light in those days was supplied by whale oil lamps and tallow dips. It makes one's head swim to calcu- late the number of either required per mile. Just east of the Fort Plain road crossing there is still a stone arch over a stream; the only stone bridge between Albany and Richfield Springs.

Wild as these dreams were, traffic seemed to justify them for a time; wagons poured into Albany, with all the products of the western land, in a continuous stream,

1 1 6 ILtQtrib* of a JHorfljern Count?

and returned loaded with the requirements of the settlers which their own neighborhood did not supply. Great droves of cattle and sheep followed one another into the city; some of them containing over five hundred head.

It was the boast of the stockholders that there was a tavern for every mile of the road. This boast at least was true, for a few years ago, I was told by the aged daughter of the keeper of the last of the taverns at Carlisle, that between that town and Albany, a distance of thirty- six miles, there had been thirty-seven taverns.

Her account of the travel over the road when at the height of its glory, as told to her by her father, was most interesting; twenty stages with six horses each passed the tavern daily; ten each way; the loaded wagons traveled in fleets often as many as twenty-five or thirty in company. In the little town of Carlisle there were then four hotels, of which but one remains. When I last passed it there was plainly visible in the colored glass window over the main door, a clean-cut hole about as big as a quarter ; this my informant called my atten- tion to and explained as follows :

In the old stage coach days, one morning, an old and expert driver drew up in front of the door with his six horses, and while waiting for his passengers, he had a whip with a long lash with a knot on the end of it, he gave it a couple of twirls above his head, and then a crack, and the

a (Srcat ^igfjtoap 117

knot on the end of the lash cut that hole in the glass, as keen as a bullet and never cracked the glass at all.

I have the account kept by Judge Cooper with one of the wagons and teams which passed wearily back and forth over this crowded highway. The wagons, like the stages, had names. This one was called "Colum- bus" and the account is headed "Collumbus the wagon in account with Wm. Cooper"; it cost $800.00 on Oct. 28, 1801; it was driven by Michael, whose great coat and stockings cost $5.00 ; then follows a detailed account of its loads, earnings, and expenses. On November 5th it brought a load weighing "37 hundred" at 6/ a hundred, $25.25; on November 14 it brought a "cask of wine, Pipe of Brandy & Hogshead of rum for 27.75." Sometimes the Columbus carried a small load and some- times "Returned empty," but generally a load averaged about twenty-five dollars, and the trip seems to have taken three or four days each way. On Aug. 31, 1802, is entered: "Return load a Tomb Stone," and as no charge is made, it is probable that this was the stone which still marks the spot by the road side where Hannah Cooper was killed, on its way from Phila- delphia to Morris.

Occasionally another wagon described as the "Old Smashpipe" is mentioned. Perhaps it was such a rough rider that the driver's pipe was smashed between his teeth.

1 1 8 Eegenbg of a Jlortfjern Count?

The heyday of the turnpike's prosperity as a great broad highway ended with the opening of the canal and the building of the Mohawk and Hudson railroad from Albany to Schenectady ; the former diverted much freight and some passenger travel and the latter a great many of the passengers of the coaches; but for some years travel continued by stage and private conveyance to the then popular resorts of Sharon and Richfield Springs; however, the road was neglected; the popu- larity of Sharon faded ; the farms and taverns along the wayside were abandoned, and the old road became al- most impassable between Sharon Springs and Albany. Little is left to indicate its past glory to the traveler who takes his springs, if not his life, in his hands and drives over it to-day. The busy throngs of men, wagons, and beasts have disappeared, and with them nearly all the taverns; at Carlisle, Sloansville, and Esperance still are interesting old inns standing and open, and at Springfield is one long closed. Here and there along the right of way is a beautiful house, occupied, and more frequently an abandoned one, or the cellar which marks the site of some old building.

For miles the broad overgrown right of way runs through deserted lands, lined by falling walls, and un- marked by even a telegraph pole. Everywhere, how- ever, is beauty, and from the time that the road rises from the sand plains of Albany, a lover of nature, and of

3 <@reat Jfrtgljtoap 1 19

history, can find few more unusual and interesting trips ; straight as an arrow it runs to the west ; only at Esperance it turns sharply to the right to cross the Schoharie Creek on a wonderful old enclosed bridge, which must have many years over a century to its credit.

Esperance itself is beautiful: its Common; its old inn; its interesting buildings, stone church, and great overhanging elms distinguish it from the run of villages. Sloansville and Carlisle with their taverns and colonial houses well repay a visit, as do many of the small hamlets.

At Sharon Springs is the great Pavilion Hotel, nearly a century old, with its long colonnade overlooking the Mohawk Valley; it is a dignified survivor of other days and other manners. For many years it was, perhaps, the best known resort in the State of New York and one of the most celebrated in the country. Its "gal- lery" was crowded with politicians and prominent men and women ; the former in white duck trousers and black coats and the latter in hoop skirts. At evening the rows of chairs, four in number, ran from end to end of the piazza,, and while the occupants discussed politics, news, horses, and wine, they looked out over a wonderful expanse of hill and valley ; the parlors, brilliantly lighted by kerosene lamps and candles, were filled with dancers. During the day they drove, rode, flirted, bathed, and

120 Hegenb* of a JBtortfjern Count?

drank — mineral and fire water. It is hard to realize that there was no golf or tennis, and only the begin- nings even of croquet, in those days to make summer life interesting and wholesome.

Parts of the old road have been rebuilt recently, and in time it may be restored its entire length. If it can be saved from the vandalism of the State road contrac- tor and turned into a stone and gravel way it will again become popular as the most beautiful route west from Albany, and, as it always has been, the shortest to many of our interior towns. When the time comes that the motorist thinks of something more than speed and dis- tance the remaining old taverns may once more be filled with guests and the "Ford" and its kindred take the place of the "coaches and six," "Collumbus, the wagon," "Old Smashpipe, " and their long forgotten companions.

Beyond Sharon is Cherry Valley with its memo- ries of Brant and Butler and the victims of the massacre ; then come all the Springfields: East, Middle Village, Center, and Springfield proper. The latter, too, was raided and burned by the Indians, and has all the appearance of never having recovered from the shock.

Here we turn south for our own village, and the Second Great Western Turnpike goes on its way west — out of our story.

A LOST ATMOSPHERE

ELECTRIC lights, concrete pavements, and new women are destructive of that indescribable some- thing called atmosphere; and probably also it is too intangible to appeal to our modern ideas and tastes.

Whatever the cause may be, it has gone from our village, except where it lingers in certain neighbor- hoods: the old Presbyterian and Episcopal churches with their graveyards ; along River Street and about the corners of the town, where modern improvements and new ideas have failed to dislodge it. In my youth when the streets were lined with great overhanging trees; paved with boards; lighted by oil lamps, or not at all, and filled with a friendly and leisurely popula- tion, times were different and, in some ways, more livable.

We still have our churchyards, with the narrow way leading from Pioneer Street to River Street, along the Presbyterian and Episcopal churches and through their burying grounds. Even they, however, have felt the touch of the vandal, for years ago the heavy hand

121

122 Hesenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

of the improver was laid on Christ Churchyard when, to the horror of many, the leaning and irregular grave stones were set up in straight and erect lines without reference to the location of the dead, whose virtues they proclaim, and without distinction of sex or degree. It is to be hoped that when the last trump sounds the resurrected will not have to rely on their grave stones for identification.

The people, against the background of beauty and quiet, were the real creators of the wonderful old-time atmosphere of the place ; they were kindly, individual, and interesting. Down near Frog Hollow lived in a little house two maidens of doubtful age, always known

as the "P girls." They were helped in their daily

tasks by a devoted maid, who was more like a member of the family than a servant; they kept their pets; canaries and white fan-tailed pigeons, and cats; but nothing as aggressive as dogs. Deeply religious and interested in all church work they had a lurking love of the occult and more than half believed in the card fortunes which they told for the youth of the town, in darkened room and with lowered voice. The pigeons seemed to them sacred and typi- cal of purity. When one of the canaries escaped they posted the following notice on the bulletin board in the post office where lost and found articles were recorded :

S ILost 3tttto£p!jerc 123

LOST

A yellow Canary — Flew towards Roman Catholic Church — Please return to (A Great Pet) Miss H. P.

92 Pioneer St.

The event of the year for them, next to Christmas and Easter, was a ten-day trip to visit relatives near a large city. This was the only break in the peaceful monotony of their lives and was the treat of well-to-do relatives.

Their means were most limited, but they never com- plained and always had enough to help the poor and the less fortunate and to send some delicacy to the ill and suffering. Life for them seemed hard and difficult, to hold little of pleasure and much of hardship, but they were always cheerful, hopeful, and interested.

On Main Street, at the same time, were three cabinet makers, all old, all masters of their trade and devoted to one another. The shop was old, as was much of the contents. Unfinished work accumulated; cobwebs softened every corner and angle ; shavings and sawdust covered the floor. In all this litter of disorder, they worked on and did the best of cabinet making. They were of quick movement and silent tongue, but of slow accomplishment. With years they grew to look alike ; their backs developed the same stoop ; their

124 Hegenbg of a JBtortfjern Count?

voices the same tones and they knew one another's thoughts without speaking. Each year the mountain of unfinished work grew before them, but no one was discouraged by it, except the owners. In appearance they seemed about the age of Methuselah, with the exception of the youngest, the son of one of them, who was in his sixties, and who always was spoken of affec- tionately as "The boy." One by one death claimed them, but even he didn't hurry about his task, and when the last went and the great pile of unfinished work was looked over and claimants sought for it, many a long- forgotten piece of furniture was found by its owner, and many an owner was found to have been long in the graveyard.

In those days the doctors and the lawyers were marked men, and went about their tasks deliberately, in long black coats and black silk stocks wound about long necks, for they were all tall and thin except one lawyer who violated custom by being very tall and very fat. They never hurried and never forgot the dignity of their occupation. In fact no one hurried. In the evening when the mail arrived, every one sauntered to the post office to await its distribution. Old and young were there; the news was discussed and plans made for the next day. Joy and sorrow came generally by mail.

The only event which could arouse the town was a fire; then it went mad. The firemen fought one an-

3 ICotft &tmo$pfjere 125

other rather than the fire and the townspeople in their misdirected zeal destroyed what the fire spared. I have often admired the foresight of my great grand- mother who once, when the Hall caught fire, ordered all the doors and windows locked and bolted, told the servants to put out the fire, while she would take care of the fire department; this she did by pouring boiling water on those who tried to enter the house.

When the cry of fire was heard every one dropped his task or occupation and " hooked on" to the passing hand-drawn, hand-pumped engines or ran regularly with "The Phinney Hose" or "Deluge No. i" or "Niagara No. 2." I remember one joyous occasion when we, being young and sound of wind, ran away with "Deluge No. i" and arrived at the fire with the engine and no firemen. Pumping did not appeal to the young, as running did, and was incomparably less in- teresting than saving furniture from fire by breaking it. When the Central Hotel burned, one night years ago, the vantage post at the top of a ladder was seized by a "Deluge" man, which of course, was intolerable to the other firemen and "Niagara" and "Phinney Hose" were turned on him until he was drowned from his position — while the hotel burned. Next to the small boy the pugnacious and jealous fireman was the fire's best friend.

There were other red-letter days than those marked

126 JLtswto* of a ^tortftetn Count?

by fire; real holidays, when no one worked. Among these was the day of the "Scottish Games." There were three enthusiastic Scots in the village and one full highland suit; this was worn by a very dearly beloved doctor of distinguished Scotch descent, while the other two wore "pants" made of Scotch plaid, and wonder- ful to look upon. I recall another pair of holiday "pants" made for a boy friend out of two American flags with the Unions forming the seat. On this day all the youth of the town were Scotch, and most of their elders discovered a latent Caledonian strain. Always a piper was imported and generally an athlete or two. The taber was tossed, races run, and all kinds of games indulged in at the fair grounds; while the piper marched back and forth, blowing the pipes for dear life, with that faraway look in his eye which a piper always has, and which suggests that his "Heart is in the Highlands" — and he looking for it.

The Sunday School picnics were great occasions too, and there were always a few picnics at Three Mile Point, for old and young, when the latter danced to the music of old Joe Tom.

The elderly residents had their literary and debating societies where papers were read and the merits of Shakespeare and others discussed.

The town had its mysteries which lost nothing by discussion. For one whole summer, at sunset, a cornet

a Host atmotfpfjere 127

was heard, played beautifully from the woods on the east side of the lake. The secret of the musician's identity was so well kept that to this day it is unknown. All the town gathered to hear the notes, sweetened by distance and the lake.

Years ago an English gentleman suddenly appeared and either bought or rented Brookwood Point, fur- nished it, and disappeared for a time to return with a beautiful woman. He called her his wife. They discouraged all intimacy with the townspeople and lived much alone, until one day they were gone. The furniture was sold at auction and from the sale came the beautiful flat tea pot which belonged to my mother, which is still in the family. The name the man went by was Captain Daniels and the tea pot bears a much worn crest. Rumor had it that he was an English army officer who had run away with another man's wife. Whence they came and where they went are alike unknown.

When I was a boy, a deformed deaf mute appeared, with a heavy chest, which he put in one of the bank vaults, declaring it to contain gold. When the lid was lifted, surely enough, it seemed full of gold coin. He carried a tablet upon which all conversation was writ- ten, and pretended to be looking for a country place. He almost bought Brookwood Point from Elihu Phinney, whose country home it was, for seventy-five

128 Hegenb* of a J^ortfjern Countp

thousand dollars. Then, suddenly, he vanished. He turned out to be neither deaf nor dumb, but a fugitive from justice, and when his chest was examined by the authorities, a layer of gold, or imitation gold, coins was found on the top and the bottom rilled with old iron. We never knew what he wanted or where he went. It was shrewdly suspected that he had planned robbing one of the banks.

The air of the town has suffered sadly from the some- what indiscriminate pulling down of old colonial build- ings, and the advent of the scroll saw Victorian product. Between the old stone bank on Main Street and the Adam house of the Worthingtons was a row of low and interesting dwellings, worthy of preservation; opposite the grave of the Indian Chief on River Street was a Colonial house, with a broad flight of steps to the front door, surmounted by the usual portico ; on the lot near Otsego Rock was a Gothic Cottage, which was burned. The old Rectory, too, was an attractive white Colonial building and along River Street were several others now, like their inmates, gone.

The auction was a great function in those days; there were not many of them, but when they came they were real social events; the town went. The sales were held on the lawns and Cooperstown society sat about and bid languidly on the belongings of their dead or unfortunate friends. An adjournment was had for

& Hosrt gtmospljcre 129

dinner. It was the time of bargains, and I remember a perfect and beautiful Colonial looking-glass with a picture across the top being knocked down for twenty- five cents. There were heart burnings over bargains lost but, on the whole, the auction was quite as success- ful a social event as a party or a picnic and from the boy's point of view more fun than either. Many a piece of furniture now in the older houses of the village has a record of numerous auctions, and to the old resi- dent its history would be well known, and perhaps its appearance at another auction eagerly awaited.

Sunday was strictly observed; no one sailed or rowed on the lake, and all games were forbidden; it was a sacred but terrible day, as long as all the rest of the week, and to make it worse a cold lunch took the place of dinner. Church and Sunday School over, and a cold and inadequate lunch eaten at one o'clock, the entire town spent a cheerful afternoon walking to the ceme- tery and back. A hurried and cold supper followed and then evening service. I remember how heartily I sympathized with the little boy who burst into tears when told that if he was very good, when he died he would go to heaven, where it always was Sunday.

The very hotels were different: where the Fenimore is now was the St. James, a dignified white frame build- ing with a classical portico and high steps leading to it. Nearly opposite was the Central Hotel, also with a

130 Hegenb* of a Jfrortfjent Count?

classical portico covering the entire front and reaching from the ground to the roof. When I was a boy of less than seven I always got up in the morning by the gong of a hotel which stood where the library does now and which was called, I think, the Red Lion. It burned down and was succeeded by an immense brick hotel which never was finished, and which for years was called the Skeleton Hotel. Finally it was pulled down as unsafe. It was a terrible place to pass after dark — as it was full of ghosts.

There were no steamboats on the lake, only sail boats, row boats, and large scows. The chug-chug of the restless motor boat was of course undreamed of; all was serenity and beauty. The lake front was not disfigured by the present row of boat houses and work shops. Great rafts of pine logs were floated down the lake and river to the dam where they supplied the saw- mill. The gristmill stood about where the water- works building is now; the sawmill just west of the east bridge, and between them the cider mill and a small one for planing. This was the manufacturing suburb of the town and a great playground. The mills were full of interest; but the greatest pleasure was run- ning on the logs which filled the mill pond from bank to bank and ran far up the river. It had just that spice of danger which appeals to boys; one had to keep mov- ing or the logs rolled over and a ducking followed ; many

Si Host gltmotfpfjere 131

is the time I have slipped through into the river and dried out in the sun.

Perhaps the "Cooper girls" for years contributed as much to the atmosphere of the place as any single household; they were the "Cooper girls" in the early part of the nineteenth century, and the "Cooper girls" they were affectionately called until the end, which came for them well on toward the latter part of that century. As children some of them left here about 1817; as young women they returned about 1833, to fill out their allotted years. They were my four aunts; two of them married and one lived for a time in another village but returned here as a widow to join her two maiden sisters and her third, already a widow. During the most formative period of their lives they lived in New York and Europe; they saw the most dis- tinguished social life of many of the great European cities and were educated there with all the care and thoroughness of that day, and in all its small accom- plishments; and then returned to the somewhat pro- vincial life of this little village in central New York. The contrast, great now, was greater then, but they found no fault with their lot, and if they had longings for greater things and heart burnings for the glories which they had known, they never spoke of them. One of them, Susan, wrote a number of books; another, Charlotte, consoled herself with her music and her

132 Hegenb* of a J^ortljent Count?

garden, and the other two had their children to educate and care for. They were far from rich, hardly well-to- do, and after the Hall was sold, they lived in a little Gothic cottage, built for them on the banks of the Sus- quehanna out of brick from their old home which had burned. Good works took much of their time and the eldest, Susan, who founded the hospital and named it "Thanksgiving," in gratitude for the end of the Civil War, was looked upon almost as a saint ; she started the Orphanage and numerous other charitable institutions.

They never gossiped, they never spoke unkindly of, or crossly to, anyone; they looked for and found the humorous and beautiful in life, 'and in their surround- ings; no doubt they lived much in the memory of the past and in the interests acquired by travel in those early years. Aunt Charlotte loved flowers and had a garden which she tended with devoted care; as she grew older and feebler the garden shrank until when the end came there were but two sparsely covered beds close to the house. Her death was tragic; when her beloved sister, Susan, had a stroke of paralysis and was lying unconscious, the shock to her was terrible, and she crept quietly off to her room, lay down on her bed, and died unattended.

They entertained in a small but most delightful way, always having the best of food. I spent many summers under their roof, and must have been a trying guest — a

3 ICotft &tmo*pfjere 133

small boy in such a household ; but I never was spoken to unkindly, although I remember deserving it many a time. Meals were served with great formality and always began with ''Grace "and ended with "Thanks returned . ' ' This seemed superfluous to my young eager- ness to be off and at play; as did the formal sitting about the table for some time after dessert had been eaten. This monotony often was relieved, however, by an amusing incident; they were all deaf, some of them very much so, and it occasionally happened that one would return thanks, not to be heard by the others, and after a little another would perform the same cere- mony, much to my irreverent joy. Theirs was not the only household of its kind in the village in those days; it was typical merely and perhaps the most pronounced in its peculiarities, its history, and its habits.

There was another delightful household of which a one-time village wit said, not unkindly, that they had "mice blood" in them; they were afraid of cats and loved to sit close up in corners.

The world is small and strange things happen. My first lawsuit, just before I was admitted to the Bar, was over some bank books which had been stolen from one of two very old women, living down town in Albany. I won the case and one of my old clients told me that when she was a little girl she lived in Coopers town, where one day in playing she fell into the mill

i34 Hejjenb* of a Jfrortfjern County

pond; she was alone and would have been drowned if it had not been for a man passing on horseback who dismounted and rescued her; that man, she said, was Judge Cooper. It all must have happened before 1809, the year Judge Cooper died. The reward for his act was long deferred as I, his great-grandson, got eighty dollars for trying the case in the year 1880. It always suggested to my mind casting one's bread upon the waters and having it return after many days. Four generations is some time to wait for the return.

But to go back to the people ; there was one little old lady who deserved a Thackeray to immortalize her. In her youth she had been a great beauty, and in fact never lost her looks. She lived near Cooperstown when first married, and although for years a wanderer over the earth, she finally returned each summer to her old home. She had all the charm of the woman of the world that she was; a charm which never grew old; a manner which always was gracious ; a wit and conversa- tional ability which were vouchsafed to few favored mortals. She never lost her interest in life and people, or her love of gay clothes and bright colors ; in appear- ance she was a typical fairy godmother of the early Victorian age; she was always a welcome guest, and was as much sought by the young as by the middle aged and by her few contemporaries.

When she came to town, attired in the style and

a lost Stmotfpfjcre 135

colors which prevailed in her early twenties, it was in a Victoria, of about her own age, drawn by horses which must have been colts when she was young, and driven by a coachman who personified all that was fat, red- faced, and dignified of his occupation ; his livery was of the kind which "fitted too soon" and was drawn in deep creases about him. He never failed to properly celebrate a visit to the village; so when the home journey began, he drove his mistress into the shadows of the lake road with an unsteady hand and a most beatific smile.

SOME OLD LETTERS

I HAVE selected from a great mass of letters the fol- lowing, as throwing some light on life at Cooperstown in the early days of the settlement; there was a con- stantly changing and most interesting social life, quite remarkable when we remember the remoteness of the village and its inaccessibility. The family life at Judge Cooper's home seems to have been most de- lightful, and the strangers within the village gates evidently grew to love the place and the people residing there.

William Cooper to Stephen Van Rensselaer:

Cooperstown May the 2, 1792. MY MUCH ESTMD AND

HIGHLY PRISD FRIEND

After giving detailed reports of an election this letter goes on.

I am preparing to Illuminate as well the town as the lake on which we shall raise Bonfires on Platforms, cannonading, musick, Horns & Conche Shells; turn out all the wine in my cellar &c. on Jays Election. Huza for our side at last — but if Clinton succeeds, I must hang up my fiddle. You alarm me about McComb, Morris & Bingham. I hope Constable

136

feome ©to Eettera 137

is not in the scrape, nor Carlisle Pollock. I, like the rest of the Human Race, hope that they will hold out until I shall not be so deeply interested for their welfare. Adieu, my dear friend, Adieu, with all Possible Cordiality and Friend- ship, once more Adieu.

WILLIAM COOPER. Honorable S. V. Rensselaer, Esq., Albany.

Judge Cooper seems to have been very fond of S. V. Rensselaer; in closing a letter dated October 7, 1792, he says,

Remember that I profess to be a man of business and expect to have my letters answered. I know that you are taking up with objects more interesting than that of writing to me, but my good Friend, there is nothing that makes one man feel so bold in calling the attention of another as that of knowing that he has an honest and sincere friendship for him, in which business you will do me the justice to believe that there is none that holds your welfare in higher estima- tion than myself, this is the first declaration that I have made on that subject, and shall in future desist from Pro- testations, supposing you always take it for granted — friendship being a chain that never wants rubing in direct terms to keep it bright.

Adieu,

WILLIAM COOPER.

Jacob Le Ray

New York, Dec. 7, 1793. MY DEAR SIR :

You will find enclosed two Bank notes of ten Dollars each, which you will be good enough to keep until called for

138 3Legente of a ^tottfjent Count?

by a stranger. They are not a gift of my own, but were handed me for this purpose, and intended to relieve the wants of an elderly French Gentleman of consequence, whose name I dare not reveal at present and who perhaps will call on you to receive them in which case you will shew him every civility in your power.

Sincerely yours

JACOB LE RAY. Endorsed

1 3th Dec. delivered to Mr. P. the 20 dollars on his producing a letter from the Gentleman who sent them. Mr. P. promised to forward them to the unknown person intended.

I have no idea who the mysterious Frenchman could have been; undoubtedly a refugee and one in very straightened circumstances if twenty dollars could be of such importance. The country was full of exiled Frenchmen at the time, among them Talleyrand who visited Judge Cooper and wrote his daughter Hannah the following acrostic :

Aimable philosophe an printemps de son age, Ni les temps, ni les lieus n'alterent son esprit ;

Ne cedent qu' a ses gouts simples et same 6talage, Au milieu des deserts, elle lit, pense, e*crit.

Cultivez, bella Anna, votre gout pour l'e*tude;

On ne saurait ici mieux employer son temps; Otsego n'est pas gai-mais, tout est habitude;

Paris vous de*plairait fort au premier moment; Et qui jouit de soi dans une solitude,

Rentrant au monde, est sur d'en faire 1'ornement.

g>ome ©Ib Hettertf 139

Arthur Noble, who wrote the next letter, was an English gentleman and was largely interested in frontier lands. He owned two patents north of us, known as Arthurboro and Nobleboro, each of thirty thousand acres. Fort Noble was his town. It never prospered and its site now is marked only by a building or two.

Great expectations were built on "sugar and rum from the maple tree" in those days. They too, were unfulfilled, but every effort was made to develop this business. Among the old papers of Judge Cooper's is an agreement signed by a long list of public-spirited citizens by which each agrees to purchase and consume a stated amount of maple sugar annually for a term of years; nothing is said of the "rum." Perhaps an agreement was not necessary as to this.

Conajohary, May 7th, 1791.

DEAR COOPER,

I left the sugar and Spirits in Charge with our Friend Dr Rush to be delivered to the President on his return from the Southward, which they expect will be in the Middle of June. Dr Rush thinks the properest way to address him will be thus — Mr Cooper and Mr Noble present their re- spects to the President of the United States, and request his Acceptance of Samples of Sugar and Spirits produced from the Maple tree with their Observation etc. — I am sure he will word it so as to give you Satisfaction, I am on my road to Fort Noble, where I shall expect to see your Honor about the 2oth. Inst. — , and request you will bring Hargrove with you. I spent two days very agreably in

140 ICegenb* of a Jlortfjern Count?

Albany, one with the Patroon the other with Gansy we did not forget you. Danby swears like a trooper if you forget to send her the Maple Sugar she will torment you all the days of your life Dr Rush sent his Son to Penningtons for the four Loaves of White Maple Sugar, but he had Dis- posed of every Ounce of it. I have been bragging what a Quantity you would bring to Market this year. I hope you will not be disappointed by your Yankees, the Chan- cellor has quite failed in his Experiments he says he will lose 100 Pounds by it, his People told him it was a very bad year and the trees would not run. Rush brought me to Mr Jefferson the Secretary of State, he is as Sanguine as you or I about the Maple Sugar, he thinks in a few years we shall be able to Supply half the World, he read me a Paragraph out of a letter from France, to tell him there is a house in Amsterdam going to Send to this Country to set up works for the Manufacturing of Maple Sugar.

With best wishes for your Family and Mr Smith Believe Me Dear Cooper

Your truly Sincere Friend

ARTHUR NOBLE.

The following letter is interesting as showing the method of sale and settlement of land adopted by Judge Cooper. He followed it consistently and it may have been the reason of his success as a maker of settlements, in part at least.

The other method, adopted by many land owners at the time, was to lease the land in fee, requiring the tenant to pay perpetually an annual rental. It was

feome ©ft better* 141

this latter form of conveyance which led to the anti- rent agitation and the so-called war.

Cooperstown, 7 Mo 3rd 1790. Esteemed Friend Charles J. Evans.

Thy letter of the I3th