The Pioneers (Cooper)/Introduction by Susan

by James Fenimore Cooper

Contents: THE PIONEERS -- The author's boyhood -- Lake Otsego -- Master Cory -- The organ -- The Beggar's Petition -- School-boy's journey to Albany -- The great turnpike -- A third book planned -- Natty and Shipman -- Mr. Le Quoy -- Hausman -- Father Nash not the original of Mr. Grant -- Indian alarm -- Extract, Pigeon-Shooting

[48] THE earliest years of the author of "The Spy" were passed in the little village on the shores of Lake Otsego. Although born at Burlington, he was carried when an infant a few weeks old, to the hamlet then growing up at the eastern sources of the Susquehanna. His childish recollections were all closely connected with the forests and hills, the fresh clearings, new fields and homes on the banks of the Otsego. It was here his boy's strength was first tried in those sports to which gray-headed men, amid the cares of later life, delight to look hack. From the first bow-and-arrow, kite, and ball, to later feats in fishing, riding, shooting, skating, all were connected with his highland home. It was on the waters of the Otsego that he first learned to handle an oar, to trim a sail. Healthy and active, he delighted in every exercise of the kind -- a brave, blithe-hearted, impetuous, [49] most generous and upright boy, as he is remembered by those who knew him in childhood.

Master Oliver Cory kept the village school in those days, and for many years later. He was a man remarkably well qualified for that honorable post, laborious, upright, firm in discipline, yet patient and kindly by nature. His training of the boys under his care was excellent. Every Saturday was devoted to religious instruction, while morals and manners were the subject of careful, though quiet attention on his part. Among his pupils was the youngest son of Judge Cooper, considered by his master as a very promising and intelligent lad. The school was kept in an ambitious edifice called the Academy, described as "one of those tasteless buildings that afflict all new countries." ^[1] It served many different purposes in its day; political meetings, religious services and the public courts were held under its roof, varied by an occasional ball. Those were not the times of lectures or concerts. Master Cory and his pupils, however, seem to have had a taste for music; Judge Cooper had brought from Philadelphia a large upright barrel-organ, of more than common power and dignity of exterior, altogether the most imposing musical instrument which had yet found its way to the shores of the Otsego; it was put up in the hall of the mansion-house, where for years it went on playing reels, and country dances, almost every evening, to say nothing of its many graver performances. The arrival of this organ in the village, produced a sensation which might be compared to the appearance of some brilliant musical star, some prima donna assoluta in a large town, at the present day; when carefully put in its position, and duly prepared for performance, a sort of rehearsal was held; the weather was warm, the broad doors and ample windows of the house were all open as usual, and as Master Oliver Cory soon learned to his cost. The Academy stood on the street adjoining the grounds of Otsego Hall, and as the first strains of Hail Columbia poured into the school-room, the effect on the children was electrical, never before had they heard such music. Jenny Lind could scarcely have delighted the students of a German university in a higher degree. Astonishment, inattention, confusion, succeeded each other; at length disorder and disorganization threatened the whole school; fortunately Master Cory, equal to the emergency, saw clearly the only course to be taken:

"Boys, that organ is a remarkable instrument. Yon have never heard the like of it before. I give you half an hour's intermission; go into the street, and listen to the music!"

But Master Cory and his pupils were not always content to play audience; they chose to be performers themselves sometimes. Annual exhibitions took place, during which the Academy was thronged, to hear the speeches of Coriolanus [50] and Iago, of Brutus and Cassius, delivered by raw lads from the village and adjoining farms, equipped inn the local militia uniform, hats of the date of 1776, blue coats faced with red, and matross swords, exhibitions which are still a subject for merriment among the few who remember them. The future author of "The Pioneers," then a child some eight years old, was much commended on one of these occasions for his moving recitation of the "Beggars' Petition," in the character of an old man, wrapped in a faded cloak, and bending over his staff; it is to be feared that Master Cory, half a century later still indulged in certain emotions of undue pride when dwelling on the correctness of his little pupil's pathetic performance on that occasion.

Ere long, however, a school Of higher aims, in the way of instruction, was deemed necessary. The youngest son of the house was sent from home. This first eventful journey was made under the care of a worthy farmer of the neighborhood, who was carrying toward the Hudson, a load of wheat, from the new fields of Otsego, then considered a great grain country. The route taken was the turnpike, a great western thoroughfare at that day, running between the valley of the Hudson and the Chenango River. This road had been only recently completed as far as Cherry Valley, and wonders were expected from it; the young traveller had heard this new triumph of civilization so much discussed at his father's table, by the gentlemen visiting at the house, that his curiosity to see it was extreme. Directors and stockholders were endeavoring to solve the difficult question of what should be done with the proceeds of the tolls, a dividend of ten per cent. being all that was allowed by the charter; stone bridges were planned; nay, some visionary spirits even talked of the necessity of lighting the road at night, as a means of disposing of the surplus fund. At length they arrived at the famous turnpike; the school-boy's eyes were gratified with actual observation of its magnificent breadth, its scientific construction, the directness of its course, the excellence of its condition -- merits which to one who reached it by the primitive, irregular, corduroy tracks then the common highways of the region, were very impressive, indeed. As they trotted slowly along, the farmer pointed out among other marvels, the taverns which were springing up within sight of each other, throughout the sixty miles between Albany and Lake Otsego: "A tavern for every mile!" as it was boastfully proclaimed; a fact certainly remarkable, showing clearly as it does the very rapid strides with which civilization moved over new ground at that period. A long train of farm wagons, heavily laden with the precious wheat, then higher than ever in value, owing to the great European wars, were rolling slowly eastward, and the number of emigrant teams, crowded with growing families and household gear, moving in the opposite direc[51]tion toward the lake shores, were all full of interest for the young traveller, and seemed to promise ample prosperity to the new road, and the county. But, alas for the great turnpike; its track is now quiet and all but deserted, its toll-gates have been thrown down, its stone bridges were never built, its lamps were never lighted! Traffic from the quiet shores of the Otsego now moves northward, following the trail of the old Indian portage toward the valley of the Mohawk. In 1798, there was movement enough, however, on the new road to render it no unworthy approach to the capital of the state. Ere long the young traveller reached Albany.

He was set down at the door of St. Peter's Rectory. Here he became a pupil of the Rev. Mr. Ellison, an English clergyman of high scholarship, who received three or four boys into his family. The young lad from Otsego soon became a favorite with his tutor, who took pleasure in instructing him. Had Mr. Ellison lived, his pupil's career might have been different; though it is scarcely probable that one so active in body, as well as in mind, would have been satisfied with the quiet and comparative monotony of a student's life. In 1802, Mr. Ellison died. His pupil soon after entered Yale College, at the early age of thirteen. At the close of three years more he went to sea, his first voyages being made before the mast, to England and to Spain. In 1805, he entered the navy. Some years later his marriage gave him an interest in another part of the country; but in all the wanderings of early life, and still at a later day, the home of his childhood, the highland valley where his father's hearth-stone lay, was never forgotten by him.

And now that a new career was opening before hire, his eyes were again turned toward the forest-clad hills at the sources of the Susquehanna. The Spy was just finished; the glow of success was still fresh upon him when he again resolved to "try one more book!" The new narrative, like that which had preceded it, was to be connected in one sense with the history of the country; it should follow the first steps of civilization in its conquests over the wilderness, and its scenes should be enacted in the valley of the Otsego. Affection for the ground, interest in the people, the pleasing character of the natural scenery, all united to point out the banks of the highland lake as fitting frame-work for his pictures. The new book was immediately commenced, and Natty Bumppo, with his silent footfall, stepped from beneath the shadows of the old pines into the winter sunlight.

There was an old hunter by the name of Shipman living in the Otsego hills during the first years of the little colony, who came frequently to offer his game at Judge Cooper's door, and whose rude equipment, dogs, and rifle, had much [52] attraction for the lads of the house. But even then, at the close of the first ten or fifteen years of clearing, game was no longer as abundant as it had been. The wild creatures were already bounding away before the sound of the axe. Occasionally, it is true, a bear was seen feasting on the wild fruits which usually grew in profusion on the borders of newly-cleared ground, or mayhap he was surprised by the hunters in one of the shallow caves of those hills, where he had lain down for his long winter nap. The peculiar wailing cry of the sharp-toothed panther, so like the voice of woman in distress, was still heard at times by the wanderer on the quiet wood-roads. Now and then the howl of the wolf came across the icy field of the Otsego, in the winter nights. The deer lingered last; they were not unfrequently seen, bounding through the forest, or drinking at familiar springs, during the first three or four years of this century. One autumn day, the future author of "The Pioneers," then a pupil under Master Cory's charge, was at play in his father's garden, when suddenly he was surprised by a deer which came leaping over the fence from the street, almost brushing his face, as it bounded away into the pine-wood in the rear of the house, dogs and men in hot pursuit. The incident was even then so unusual as to make a great impression on the boy In after years, when walking with his children over the same ground, Mr. Cooper repeatedly spoke of it. And this is said to have been one of the last of those beautiful creatures driven in chase through the village, and over ground where so very lately they had roamed at will. They still continued, however, to be hunted among the hills, and in the lake, for several years longer. At length they gradually took flight, retreating to the wilder mountains to the southward, where Shipman and his brother hunters were compelled to follow them, or else exchange the rifle for the axe. A vague recollection of Shipman seems to have lingered in the mind of the writer, and to have suggested the idea of the principal character in "The Pioneers." And yet to call this man the original of Natty Bumppo, would be clearly an error. The assertion is true only just so far as the barest resemblance in outline may go -- in pursuit, something in rude accoutrement, and in the ground over which they both hunted. Here all similarity ceases. In every higher sense of the words, the character of Natty is wholly original; in all that gives worth, and dignity, and poetry, and soul, to the conception, it comes in full freshness and freedom, direct from the mind of the author.

Many of the figures filling the canvas of "The Pioneers" are said to have once lived on the same ground. But there is no one instance in which this assertion is strictly true. There is no character in the book which the writer aimed at copying closely from real life; some vague resemblance may be traced [53] here and there, but in most instances the personages are wholly fictitious. Classes were represented, and not individuals.

Chingachgook, old Indian John, is supposed to have been drawn from life; but this again is an error. The character is imaginary. The head-waters of the Susquehanna were favorite hunting-ground with the neighboring tribes, but they had no permanent village on the ground. Their forts, or "castles," as these were so strangely miscalled by the whites, and their burial-places, lay on either hand, north or south, in the valley of tie Mohawk, or on the southern banks of the Susquehanna, They did not, therefore, linger on the shores of the Otsego, as at some other points; when the white man appeared with his team, his plough, and his axe, they abandoned their canoes on the lake, gave up its choice fish to his steel hook and twine net, and followed the flying game farther toward the setting sun; or, in diminished numbers, they still wandered to and fro, over ground rendered sacred to them by older traditions connected with their lodges, and the graves of their fathers. Occasionally only they came in family groups, or in small parties, to taste the bass, or tap the maples in the forest, during the first years of the village. But it is not known that any one individual remained long enough to fill the position ascribed to Chingachgook in "The Pioneers."

An Indian alarm, however, occurred quite as a matter of course in connection with the early days of most American frontier hamlets. In the annals of the village, the year 1794, or that following the date given in the openings chapter of "The Pioneers," is especially remembered for an incident of this kind. A large party of Indians -- of what tribe, we are not told -- were seen lurking in the woods within a short march of the village. As they did not show themselves openly, but sought or affected concealment, their movements naturally excited suspicion. Their numbers were, of course, exaggerated; the women and chil[54]dren were thrown into great alarm, and some of the good people seem to have actually feared a repetition of the horrors of Cherry Valley, so thoroughly impressed on the household memories of the county.

It was deemed prudent to take steps for defence; weapons were prepared for action, and scouts were sent out into the woods to watch the red men. Meanwhile, with well-barred doors and windows, the women and children were gathered in their homes. Suddenly, in the dead of night, the report of firearms was heard, and the tramp of horse and foot passed along the quiet street. Had the scouts returned! Were the Indians upon them! The whole village was aroused and thrown into strange alarm. The men hurried into the street to face a possible foe; they were met by a party of constables, who had gone out in pursuit of a gang of counterfeiters, and now, returning at midnight with their prisoners, had fired off their pistols on entering the village, thus throwing the little community into great agitation. It was not until the next day that the alarm subsided. The Indians, not long after, passed noiselessly on their way through the forest; the object of their approach was never known. This is said to have been the last occasion on which the red men drew near the village in sufficient numbers to assume in any way the aspect of a war-party, moving over old forest pathways of their own, so long familiar to their race, but now wholly effaced by the plough of the white man. Whatever may have been their object, whatever feeling of secret enmity may have lurked in their hearts, this party could never have actually plotted any work of general violence against the little colony; the day for massacre had wholly passed away. The horrors of Cherry Valley dated nearly twenty years back in time, and a century in facts.

It has been said that the character of Mr. Grant, the missionary, was drawn from life. The assertion is entirely unfounded. The author of "The Pioneers" had much too strong a personal regard for the venerable clergyman supposed to be referred to under the name of Mr. Grant, to have wished to introduce him into a work of fiction. On the contrary, he has filled the position actually occupied by him with a figure purely imaginary, and, in many personal particulars, directly the opposite of Father Nash. The trials and difficulties of missionary life at that day, on frontier ground, were great; and probably not one of his brethren suffered more privations from poverty, and the many hardships of a new country, than the venerable man whose sincere piety, earnest zeal, courage, and perseverance were greatly blessed to the many parishes of that region, springing up under his laborious itinerant ministry. But between Mr. Grant, the missionary of "The Pioneers," and Father Nash, there is absolutely no resemblance whatever to be traced, beyond that of position, and the peculiar trials [55] connected with it. This was precisely what the writer aimed at representing, purposely avoiding any approach to individual portraiture of character or person. a single glance at the household circle of each will show how little the author of "The Pioneers" aimed at presenting his honored friend to the public under a feigned name; instead of being the sad, subdued, bereaved man, with one living child remaining of a large family, which Mr. Grant is represented, Father Nash, at the same period of his missionary labors, full of life and vigor himself, was blessed with a most worthy and diligent wife, and surrounded with a large flock of young children, most of whom survived him.

In one particular, however, the trials of real life were even greater, perhaps, than those of the fictitious narrative. It seems to us, of the present hour, almost incredible that suffering for want of food should have ever been known, by any hut the very improvident, in this land of plenty. Such, however, was not the case. Scarcity was repeatedly felt by all during the first years of settlement, more especially by the families of the farmers, living beyond the village; and it is well known that the poor missionary family suffered severely in this way, on more than one occasion. There were those at hand however, always ready to offer relief, where privation was known. The most severe trial of this kind occurred during the season still remembered as "the starving time," in the traditions of the country, and which fell upon the whole region, for many miles beyond the lake shores. It was at an early day when the green fields were yet very few, when there were no roads through the forest, and no mills to grind the little corn among the stores of the colonists. The hamlet ^[2] was then literally in the heart of a wilderness, and the number of newly arrived emigrants increasing beyond the amount of food within reach, something approaching to actual famine was felt in many a cabin. Families accustomed to abundance, in the homes they had left farther eastward, were now pining for the want of daily bread, the poor hungry children feeding on the scrapings of the iron pots in which their sapaen had been prepared. In this emergency, the leader of the little colony [Judge Cooper] exerted himself to the utmost; grain was purchased at a distance, brought up the Mohawk in boats, thence on pack horses through the forest, from Canajoharie and Fort Plain, out dealt and liberally to the people. Most happily shoals of herring came up the Susquehanna, from the Chesapeake, at the same moment, filling the lake so abundantly, that they were actually dipped out of the water, by the bucketful. Salt was sent for in great quantities, and the fish were cured, and carried into the cabins of the people, scattered through the neighboring woods. The pigeons also came in large flocks, and after a period of great distress for some weeks, plenty was once more restored to the half famished people.

[56] The number of foreigners finding their way to the shores of this quiet inland lake at that early day, was quite remarkable. Among these, were several Frenchmen, driven from their own country by the terrors of the Revolution. A few incidents of border life, connected with their history are given in the words of Mr. Cooper:

"In the course of the winter of 1789-90, during one of the periodical visits of Colonel Frey,^[3] a large lumber-sleigh was fitted out, with four horses, and the whole party sallied out upon the lake, for a morning drive. An ex-officer of the French army, a Monsieur Ebbal, resided by himself, on the western bank of the lake. Perceiving the sleigh, and four horses approaching his house, this gentleman with the courtesy of his nation, went forth upon the ice, to greet the party, of whose character he was not ignorant, by the style in which it appeared. Mr. Cooper invited his French friend to join him, promising him plenty of game, with copious libations of Madeira, by way of inducement. Though a good table companion in general, no persuasion could prevail on the Frenchman to accept the offer that day, while, provoked by his obstinacy, the party laid violent hands on him, and brought him to the village by force.

"Monsieur Ebbal took his captivity in good part, and was soon as buoyant and gay as any of his companions. He habitually wore a long-skirted surtout, which at that time was almost a mark of a Frenchman, and this surtout he pertinaciously refused to lay aside, even when he took his seat at table. On the contrary, he kept it buttoned to the very throat, as it might be in defiance. The Christmas joke, a plentiful board, and abundant potations, however, threw the guest off his guard. Warmed with wine and the blazing fire, he incautiously unbuttoned; when his delighted companions discovered that the accidents of a frontier life, the establishment of a bachelor who kept no servant, and certain irregularities in washing-days, that were attendant on both circumstances, coupled with his empressement to salute his friends, had induced the gallant Frenchman to come abroad without a shirt. He was uncased on the spot, amid the roars of the [57] convives, and incontinently put into linen. 'Cooper was so polite,' added the mirth-loving Hendrick Frey, when he repeated the story for the hundredth time, 'that he supplied a shirt with ruffles at the wristbands, which made Ebbal very happy for the rest of the evening. How his hands did go, after he got the ruffles!'

"These wags told Monsieur Ebbal, that if chased by a bear, the most certain mode of escape was to throw away his hat or his coat, to induce the animal to stop and smell at it, and then to profit by the occasion, and climb a sapling that was too small to enable his enemy to fasten its claw in it, in the way it is known to ascend a tree. The advice was well enough; but the advised having actually an occasion to follow it the succeeding autumn, scrambled up a sapling first, and began to throw away his clothing afterward. The bear, a she one, with cubs, tore to pieces garment after garment, without quitting the spot, keeping poor Ebbal treed throughout a cool autumnal night, almost as naked as when he uncased at the celebrated Christmas banquet. It appears that the real name of this person was L'Abbé de Raffcourt."^[4]

• * * * * * *

"In 1801, a man dressed in a sailor's jacket, without stockings, or neckcloth, but cleanly, and otherwise of respectable appearance, and who seemed of middle age, presented himself to Judge Cooper, with a request to know whether a small piece of low meadow land, that lies between 'Fenimore' and the village, was to be sold. The answer was in the affirmative, but the applicant was informed that on account of its position, the price would be relatively high, amounting to a considerable sum. The stranger requested that a deed might immediately be made of it, and he counted, down the money, in gold, giving his name as Esaias Hausman. Mr. Hausman left the hall the owner of the lot in question, which has ever since been known as the 'Hausman lot.' The habits, attainments and character of this man soon attracted attention. He spoke five or six of the living languages, and had a tolerable knowledge of the classics. He lived entirely alone, in a small house he had caused to be built on his purchase, and in the rudest manner. Occasionally he would disappear, and his absences sometimes extended to months. He frequently spoke of his past life, though it is not known that he ever gave any explicit or connected history of his origin, or of the events that led him to America. According to his own account of his adventures, he had served in the French imperial army, and he was once heard to say that the death of Robespierre alone saved him from the block. Casual remarks of this kind increased curiosity, when Hausman became more reserved, and soon ceased to touch at all on the events of his past life. Some time about the year 1805, he [58] had been absent for several months, when it was discovered that he was teaching Hebrew to the president of one Of the Eastern Colleges. This occupation did not last long, however, for he was soon back again, in his hut on the lake shore. In this manner, this singular man passed many years, apparently undetermined in his purposes, rude, and even coarse in many of his habits, but always courteous and intelligent. He died at Herkimer, in 1812, and without making any revelations concerning himself, or his family. As he died intestate, his property escheated, the lot on the lake shore being sold by the public. It is said that a considerable sum in gold was found in a purse, worn between his shoulder-blades.

"Nothing farther was ever known of Esaias Hausman. He was certainly shrewd and observant, and his acquisitions, which were a little exaggerated, probably, by vulgar report, were of that kind which denote, in Europe, a respectable education. He had not the appearance or manner of a Polish gentleman, though he called himself a Pole, and the most probable conjecture concerning him, a conjecture which we believe is sustained by some of his own remarks, made him a Jew. The name is German, but the people of that persuasion often assume new appellations." ^[5]

• * * * * * *

"M. Le Quoy excited a good deal of interest during his stay in the place, as he was a man altogether superior to his occupation, which was little more than that of a country grocer; an interest that was much increased by the following circumstance.

"Among the early settlers in Otsego county was M. Louis de Villers, a French gentleman of respectable extraction and good manners. M. de Villers was at Cooperstown, about the year 1793, at a moment when a countryman, a M. Renouard, who afterward established himself in the county, had recently reached the place. M. Renouard was a seaman, and had the habit of using tobacco. Inquiring of M. de Villers where he could make a purchase of the weed, M. de Villers directed him to the shop of M. Le Quoy, telling him he could help a countryman by making his purchase there. In a few minutes M. Renouard returned from the shop, agitated and pale. M. de Villers inquired if he were unwell. 'Who is the man who sold me this tobacco?' demanded M. Renouard. 'M. Le Quoy is a countryman of ours.' 'Yes; M. Le Quoy de Mersereau!' 'I know nothing about the de Mersereau; he calls himself Le Quoy. Do you know any thing of him?' 'When I went to Martinique, to be port-captain of St Pierre,' answered M. Renouard, 'this man was the civil governor of the island, and refused to confirm my appointment.'

[59] "Subsequent inquiry confirmed this story, M. Le Quoy explaining that the influence of a lady had stood in the way of M. Renouard's preferment.

"The history of M. Le Quoy has since been ascertained to be as follows: When governor of Martinique, he had it in his power to do a friendly office to Mr. John Murray, of New York, by liberating one of his ships; Mr. Murray being at the head of the old and highly respectable commercial house of John Murray and Sons, then one of the principal firms of the country, this act brought about an exchange of civilities between Mr. Murray and M. Le Quoy, which continued for years. When the French Revolution drove M. Le Quoy from the island, he repaired to New York, and sought his friend Mr. Murray, to whom he stated that he had a small sum of money, which he wished to invest in a country store, until his fortunes might revive. Between Mr. Murray and Judge Cooper there existed an intimacy, and to the latter gentleman M. Le Quoy was referred. Under the advice of Judge Cooper, M. Le Quoy established himself in Cooperstown, where he remained a year or two. At the end of that time he made his peace with the new French government, and quitting his retreat, he was employed for some months in superintending the accounts of the different French consulates in this country. It is said that he soon after returned to Martinique in his old capacity, and died the first season of yellow fever.... The following letter appears to have been written by him soon after he left Cooperstown, and at the moment he commenced his consular duties:

"'PHILADELPHIA, October 10, 1794.

"'DEAR SIR: -- I have experienced too much of your friendship to believe you will not hear of my fate with some degree of concern. I am to go to Charleston, S.C., about some business which will keep me most all the winter. I hope for a more permanent employment than what I have at present; if not, I know where to find peace, good business, good friends. I shall always consider you among the number.

"'I wish you and all your family health and happiness.

'And I remain, dear sir, your most humble servant,

"'F. T. LE QUOY.

"'MONS. W· COOPER, in Cooperstown, Otsego county.'"

^[6]

The singular name of this gentleman, who is said to have died without representatives, was given to the French emigrant of "The Pioneers," the character of the latter, however, was entirely imaginary.

[60] In the chapter selected for this volume from "The Pioneers," the reader will find an allusion to a piece of artillery, very famous in its day among the good people on the lake shores, and to whose report the Otsego hills have a thousand times re-echoed on days of rejoicing. This was the "Cricket," so thoroughly enjoyed by all the lads of the village.

The following account of the "Cricket" is given in Mr. Cooper's words:

"The present site of Cooperstown is connected with an event of some interest, which occurred during the war of the Revolution. An expedition having been commanded to proceed under the orders of General Sullivan, against the Indians who then dwelt in the vicinity of Seneca Lake, a brigade employed in the duty, under Brigadier-General James Clinton, father of the celebrated De Witt Clinton, marched from Albany for that purpose. After ascending the Mohawk as far as Fort Plain, this brigade cut a road through the forest to the head of Lake Otsego, whither it transported its boats. Traces of this road exist, and are still known by the name of the Continental Road. Embarking at the head of the lake, the troops descended to the outlet, where they encamped on the site of the present village. General Clinton's quarters are said to have been in a small building of hewn logs, which then stood in what are now the grounds of Otsego Hall, and which it is thought was erected by Colonel Croghan, as a place in which he might hold his negotiations with the Indians, as well as for a commencement of the settlement.

"This building, which was about fifteen feet square, and intended for a sort of block-house, was undoubtedly the first ever erected on this spot. It was sub[61]sequently used by some of the first settlers as a dwelling, and by Judge Cooper as a smoke-house. There were found the graves of two white men in the same grounds, which were believed to contain the bodies of deserters, who were shot at the time the troops were encamped there. These graves are supposed to have been the first of any civilized men in the township of Otsego. All traces of them have now disappeared.

"As soon as encamped, the troops of General Clinton commenced the construction of a dam at the outlet, and when the water had risen to a sufficient height in the lake, the obstruction was removed, the current clearing the bed of the river of flood-wood. After a short delay for this purpose, the troops embarked and descended the river as far as the junction with the Tioga, where they were met by another brigade commanded by General Sullivan in person. On this occasion the Susquehanna below the dam is said to have been so much reduced that a man could jump over it. Traces of the dam still exist, and for many years they were very obvious.

"At a later day, in digging the cellar of the house first occupied by Judge Cooper, a large iron swivel was discovered, which was said to have been buried by the troops, who found it was useless for their service. This swivel was the only piece of artillery used for the purposes of salutes and merry-makings in the vicinity of Cooperstown for years after the settlement of the country. It is well and affectionately remembered by the name of the "Cricket," and was bursted lately in the same good cause of rejoicing on the fourth of July. At the time of its final disaster, for it met with manly vicissitudes by field and flood, having actually been once thrown into the lake, it is said that there was no very perceptible difference in size between its touch-hole and its muzzle."^[7]

[62] With a few more remarks from Mr. Cooper's pen, these notes to "The Pioneers" must close:

"In order to prevent mistake, it may be well to say that the incidents of this tale are purely a fiction. The literal facts are chiefly connected with the natural and artificial objects, and the customs of the inhabitants. The academy, and court-house, and jail, and inn, and most similar things, are tolerably exact. They have all, long since, given place to buildings of a better character. There is some liberty taken with the truth in the description of the principal dwelling; the real building had no 'firstly' or 'lastly.' It was of bricks, and not of stone; and its roof exhibited none of the beauties of the 'composite order.' It was erected in an age too primitive for that ambitious school of architecture. But the author indulged his recollections freely when he had fairly entered the door. Here all is literal, even to the severed vase of Wolfe, and the urn which held the ashes of Queen Dido."

"The author has elsewhere said that the character of Leather-Stocking is a creation, rendered probable by such auxiliaries as were necessary to produce that effect. Had he drawn still more upon fancy, the lovers of fiction would not have so much cause for their objections to his work. Still the picture would not have been in the least true, without some substitute for most of the other personages. The great proprietor resident on his lands and giving his name to, instead of receiving it from his estates, as in Europe, is common over all New York. The physician with his theory, rather obtained than corrected by experiments on the human constitution; the pious, self-denying, laborious, and ill-paid missionary; the half-educated, litigious, envious, and disreputable lawyer, with his counterpoise, a brother of the profession, of better origin and of better character; the shiftless, bargaining, discontented seller of his "betterments;" the plausible carpenter, and most of the others, are familiar to all who have ever dwelt in a new country."

"It may be well to say here, a little more explicitly, that there was no intention to describe with particular accuracy any real characters in this book. It has been repeatedly said -- and in published statements -- that the heroine of this book was drawn after a sister of the writer, who was killed by a fall from a horse now nearly half a century since. So ingenious is conjecture, that a personal resemblance has been discovered between the fictitious character and the deceased relative. It is scarcely possible to describe two females of the same class in life, who would be less alike, personally, than Elizabeth Temple and the sister of the author, who met with the deplorable fate mentioned. In a word, they were as unlike in this respect as in history, character, and fortunes."

"Circumstances rendered this sister singularly dear to the author. After a lapse of half a century, he is writing this paragraph with a pain that would induce him to cancel it, were it not still more painful to have it believed that one whom he regarded with a reverence that surpassed the love of a brother, was converted by him into the heroine of a work of fiction."

"From circumstances which, after this introduction, will be obvious to all, the author has had more pleasure in writing "The Pioneers" than the book will, probably, ever give any of its readers. He is quite aware of its numerous faults, some of these he has endeavored to repair in this edition; but, as he has, in intention, at least -- done his full share in amusing the world, he trusts to its good nature for overlooking this attempt to please himself."^[8]

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1. James Fenimore Cooper, The Chronicles of Cooperstown (Cooperstown: H. & E. Phinney, 1838), p. 41.
2. Annonation: This refers to Cooperstown
3. Colonel Hendrick Frey, of Frey's Bush, on the Mohawk
4. James Fenimore Cooper, The Chronicles of Cooperstown (Cooperstown: H. & E. Phinney, 1838), pp. 26-28
5. James Fenimore Cooper, The Chronicles of Cooperstown (Cooperstown: H. & E. Phinney, 1838), pp. 59-61
6. James Fenimore Cooper, The Chronicles of Cooperstown (Cooperstown: H. & E. Phinney, 1838), pp. 35-38
7. James Fenimore Cooper, The Chronicles of Cooperstown (Cooperstown: H. & E. Phinney, 1838), pp. 11-13
8. James Fenimore Cooper, 1851 Introduction to The Pioneers (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1980), pp. 9-11