Cooper and Wyandotté: Merciful Providence!

With the last of his Leatherstocking novels two years behind him, James Fenimore Cooper turned to another historical period for his novel Wyandotté, or, The Hutted Knoll: the American Revolution. Published on September 5, 1843, Wyandotté was not the first of Cooper's books set in that era, though it had been some twenty years since his previous books The Spy (1821) and Lionel Lincoln (1825)

The action of Cooper's book takes place in a remote valley in Otsego County (where Cooper lived much of his life), a bit removed from the main events of the period. Despite not focusing on famous real events, the author couched his story in reality; as he noted in his preface, the stories he told in this book were "distinctive in many of their leading facts, if not rigidly true in the details." He noted his concern about the proliferation of American Revolution related stories which were quickly becoming more legend than truth because of "pseudo-patriotism." Cooper warned, "Nothing is really patriotic, however, that is not strictly true and just." He was particularly concerned about the hard-line distinction between "good guy" Revolutionaries and "bad guy" Tories, which he intended to complicate. Here is how one Tory breaks the news of the rebellion to his family in the novel:

"Merciful Providence!" exclaimed Mrs. Willoughby—"What can you mean, my son?"

"I mean, mother, that civil war has actually commenced in the colonies, and that the people of your blood and race are, in open arms, against the people of my father's native country—in a word, against me."

"How can that be, Robert? Who would dare to strike a blow against the king?"

"When men get excited, and their passions are once inflamed, they will do much, my mother, that they might not dream of, else."

"This must be a mistake! Some evil-disposed person has told you this, Robert, knowing your attachment to the crown."

"I wish it were so, dear madam; but my own eyes have seen—I may say my own flesh has felt, the contrary."

In fact, the Willoughbys are somewhat torn in deciding their allegiance in the novel. Part of Cooper's sympathy for Tories and those who were loyal to England during the Revolution may have been personal: some of his ancestors were counted among that group. Several reviews of Wyandotté focused on whether or not the history in the book was accurate.

Cooper: exceedingly anxious to go abroad

James Cooper (he had not yet added the "Fenimore" to his name) was not happy with his financial situation in the United States. He had met with some success and substantial fame from his novels like Precaution, The Pioneer and The Last of the Mohicans but he felt that a job in Europe would be more suitable to him. More importantly, he anticipated that the Europeans had better taste than his fellow Americans.

Accordingly, on March 9, 1826, he wrote to New York Governor De Witt Clinton for help. Though he apologized for the unimportant request compared to his other duties, Cooper hoped Clinton would put in a good word for him for a federal appointment:

I am exceedingly anxious to go abroad with my family, for three or four years, and am induced both by prudence and feeling, to wish to do so, in some situation connected with the Government. My views are far from being very exalted, however, on this subject. I should prefer being on the waters of the Mediterranean, or near them, and would be exceedingly happy to find myself invested with any consulate that would yield me a moderate sum. I confess I know of no particular situation, and after waiting several years with the same desire, I do not find myself more likely to obtain the requisite information in time to apply.

Cooper noted frankly his embarrassment for requesting such a favor, also admitting he was unaware of "the propriety or impropriety" of such a request. He was living on Greenwich Street in New York with his family that winter and, it is said, he once bumped into his neighbor William Cullen Bryant. Cooper invited the poet to join him for dinner at his home at 345 Greenwich Street but Bryant asked him to write the address down lest he forget. The rather gruff Cooper responded, "Can't you remember three-four-five?"

Cooper traveled to Washington D.C. under the advisement of Governor Clinton (and, possibly, from Bryant too). There, Secretary of State Henry Clay offered him a position as Minister to Sweden and Norway; Cooper declined and was instead granted a consulship to Lyons (France). There, he continued to write, particularly stories at sea, including The Red Rover and The Water Witch. The Coopers returned to the United States in 1833.

James Fenimore Cooper: Upside Down

By the end of his life, James Fenimore Cooper was securely established as one of the most important writers in American history to date. His novels were international best-sellers, and his transition to historical works left him equally respected. Perhaps his greatest literary experiment, however, came in the year before his death when he wrote and staged a play.

Upside Down; or, Philosophy in Petticoats premiered on June 18, 1850 at the New York theater owned by sometime actor/magazine editor William Evans Burton. The play was staged for three nights before it closed; it was not published or staged again during Cooper's lifetime — or in the century. The three-act comedy, according to Cooper, was meant in "ridicule of new notions." In fact, it was a farcical critique of socialism ("Horace Greeley of course will not like it," predicted one review).

Though many members of the public knew the play was Cooper's, it was never officially announced as such — per Cooper's request. Perhaps this was the reason it was not successful: the theater's seats were mostly empty, even on opening night. Burton, who also played a role in the play, closed the show after its third performance, saying that it drew less than $100 a night.

No complete script of the play remains extant. One acquaintance of Cooper who attended on opening night admitted that the second and third acts dragged, though the audience seemed to like the ending judging by their "warm applause." One reviewer criticized that the play was "upon the whole a little too conventional or clossetty." This fault, it continued, would be corrected by the "judicious curtailment" of the performance: "and then the comedy of Upside Down will be right side up."

A bad manuscript and worse proof-reading

The novel Precaution was published on November 10, 1820, priced at $2 for both volumes. Its author, James Fenimore Cooper, wrote the book as a challenge to himself. His publisher (A. T. Goodrich & Co.), however, soon learned he was himself a challenge to work with.

Cooper was highly concerned with its marketing (he denied it should be referred to as an "original" American work, and hoped people would infer it was a republication of a British work along the lines of Walter Scott) and asked his name not be included. Another reason for this was that he was already working on a new book, The Spy, which he recognized as a superior work. As he told his publisher, "I can make a much better one — am making a much better one."

Still, Cooper hoped Precaution would be successful, and certainly hoped for a respectable financial return. He was concerned, nonetheless, that British publishers would pirate his book. About three months before its American publication, Cooper asked his publisher, "What do you mean to do about England?" He was not impressed by the slow response and took matters into his own hands — but was fairly limited because of his desire for anonymity. His plan was to take a pseudonym, Edward Jones.  Instead, his publisher found a lawyer friend who would negotiate on his behalf.

All this was ironic for a book Cooper never intended to publish at all. Further, Cooper was so disappointed in the poor quality of the first American edition (the fault of his own poorly-written manuscript) that the British edition had scores of corrections. As a later preface noted:

[There] were many defects in plot, style, and arrangement, that were entirely owing to precipitation and inexperience, and quite as many faults, of another nature, that are to be traced solely to a bad manuscript and worse proof-reading. Perhaps no novel of our times was worse printed than the first edition of this work. More than a hundred periods were placed in the middle of sentences, and perhaps five times that number were omitted, in places where they ought to have been inserted. It is scarcely necessary to add, that passages were rendered obscure, and that entire paragraphs were unintelligible.

*For much of this information, I am indebted to the biography James Fenimore Cooper: The Early Years by Wayne Franklin.

Birth of James (Fenimore) Cooper

Though he is most associated with Cooperstown, New York, James Cooper was born in Burlington, New Jersey on September 15, 1789. His family brought him to Cooperstown a year later after they built the first home in the town. It was not until 1826 that he officially expanded his name to James Fenimore Cooper, using his mother's maiden name as a middle name.

He was only 13 years old when he enrolled at Yale University, though he was expelled in his junior year. One legend claims he spent too much time "frolicking" in the woods nearby rather than studying. It was then that he had a desire to go to sea, an experience which inspired much of his writing. Young Cooper joined the crew of a merchant vessel at age 16 and sailed to England (family tradition suggested it was at the insistence of the teenager's father). On September 15, 1807, his 18th birthday, Cooper returned to the United States aboard the Stirling. Soon, he joined the U.S. Navy and ultimately earned the rank of Midshipman before resigning. Ten years later, on his 28th birthday, his mother Elizabeth Fenimore Cooper was buried; she died at the age of 66.

Only three years after the death of his mother, Cooper almost arbitrarily chose to become a writer. Novels like The Last of the Mohicans made him among the first American novelists. He also wrote a substantial History of the United States Navy (dedicated to those who served as officers in that organization). He admitted it was an "imperfect" record. His introduction to the book begins:

As in a single life, man passes through the several stages of his physical and moral existence, from infancy to age, so will the American of the present generation, witness the advance of his country, from the feebleness, doubts and caution of a state of conscious weakness, to the healthfulness and vigour of strength. So rapid, however, have been the transitions, that opinion has not kept pace with the facts of the country. Thus it is, that we so often find even statesmen reasoning on the policy of the republic, after the manner of their youth, in apparent ignorance of all the important changes that have occurred within the last forty years; for, to adapt the argument to the level of circumstances, in a country like this, requires a mind of incessant activity, and one accustomed to reason in advance, rather than in the rear of events.

Cooper's own life witnessed several stages in the existence of American literature from its "feeble" beginnings. When he died in 1851, one day shy of his 62nd birthday, he had become an icon and a legend, and editors and writers came forward to honor him shortly after his death.

Cooper: satisfied that more will sell

"From the present state of orders we are satisfied that more will sell," wrote the editors at Carey, Lea, and Blanchard on August 18, 1838. Though 250 copies of Homeward Bound were yet unsold, they assured its author James Fenimore Cooper that all was well, and even suggested it was time to stereotype the book (implying that it would continue to be printed in several future editions and, therefore, worth the cost of plates). Cooper would be charged the cost of stereotyping, deducted from his $1,000 payment.

Cooper responded a week later, "Your proposition about stereotyping I can not accept." Their original agreement, he reminded his publishers, was for $1,550; his counter-offer was $2,250 to purchase the rights to publish the book for the next three years. As always, Cooper also acerbically noted a small typo ("marine" instead of "mariner"), which he cheerlessly called "a damnable error."

But Carey, Lea, and Blanchard pressed Cooper — who was already hugely popular from works like The Last of the Mohicans — until he finally agreed to stereotyping the plates (at the cost of $200). The plates, however, were left in his ownership but the publishers could use them without charge for another two years. In payment, whatever number of copies they printed, Cooper would be paid outright 50 cents per copy. They also agreed to print Cooper's next book, Home as Found, with an impressive initial print run (via stereotype) of 4,000 copies. From Homeward Bound:

The manner in which this gentleman, whose temples were sprinkled with grey hairs, regarded the scene, denoted more of the thoughtfulness of experience, and of tastes improved by observation, than it is usual to meet amid the bustling and commonplace characters that compose the majority in almost every situation of life... The fair-haired, lovely, blue-eyed girl at his side, too, seemed a softened reflection of all his sentiments, intelligence, knowledge, tastes, and cultivation, united to the artlessness and simplicity that became her sex and years.

"We have seen nobler coasts, Eve," said the gentleman, pressing the arm that leaned on his own; "but, after all, England will always be fair to American eyes."

"More particularly so if those eyes first opened to the light in the eighteenth century, father."

Cooper is in town, in ill health

 On April 8, 1851, the poet and critic Richard Henry Dana Sr. wrote a letter to fellow writer William Cullen Bryant. "Cooper is in town, in ill health," he wrote. "When I saw him last he was in high health and excellent spirits. He has grown thin, and has an ashy instead of a florid complexion." Dana met with Cooper on what was the last trip to New York City ever made by the author of The Last of the Mohicans; Cooper died one day shy of his 62nd birthday that fall.

Dana began his correspondence with Cooper just over a decade earlier, initiating a somewhat cold relationship, yet one of mutual respect. As Dana recounted, "I was telling Mr. [Washington] Allston not long ago, how very highly I tho't of the Pioneers. 'Why don't you write Mr. Cooper?' asked he." So he did.

Shortly after this initial contact, Dana sent Cooper a copy of his son's "journal," as he called it. The work is more generally known as Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana, Jr.

Much earlier, Cooper had served before the mast as a midshipman himself. In fact, in the decade or so after Dana Jr.'s book, Cooper wrote more and more about life at sea — both in fiction and nonfiction. Up to his death, he had been working on a continuation of his 1839 book on Naval history. The second part of History of the Navy of the United States of America was published posthumously in incomplete form.

Death of James Fenimore Cooper

James Fenimore Cooper was only one day shy of his 62nd birthday when he died on September 14, 1851, likely due to liver disease. As early as April, he already knew his health was failing; friends could see it as well. After seeking medical advice in New York City, he returned to his home, Otsego Hall, in Cooperstown. He never left that home again. He died on a Sunday, at 1:30 in the afternoon.

Today, Cooper is considered one of the first major novelists in American literature, particularly his masterpiece The Last of the Mohicans (1825). Cooper was revered in his lifetime as the first man of letters in the United States — somewhat ironic for a man who started writing because of a challenge.

As an early biographer noted, Cooper died at a time when many of his friendships were strained. He also had a surprisingly small fortune. His estate, Otsego Hall, was sold and turned into a hotel - leaving the family for the first time since it was constructed (1796-1799). Soon after, it burned down and its remains were demolished.

A group of literary admirers led by anthologist Rufus Wilmot Griswold along with Fitz-Greene Halleck, Washington Irving, and William Cullen Bryant organized a memorial celebration for Cooper. The intent was to raise enough money for a substantial monument at Cooper's grave; it didn't quite work out.

Cooper's most famous character, Natty Bumppo (or Hawkeye) starred in several novels, his life featured from birth to death. In The Prairie, an elderly Hawkeye met his end. After not moving for about an hour, he suddenly springs to his feet. He looked around before uttering his final word, "Here!"

When Middleton and Hart-Heart, who had each involuntarily extended a hand to support the form of the old man, turned to him again, they found, that the subject of their interest was removed forever beyond the necessity of their care... The grave was made beneath the shade of some noble oaks... In due time the stone was placed at its head, with the simple inscription the trapper had himself requested. The only liberty, taken by Middleton, was to add, — "May no wanton hand ever disturb his remains!"

Cooper's Precaution manuscript

"I could write you a better book than that myself!" shouted James Fenimore Cooper, throwing aside a now-forgotten book — or, so legend has it. Family members laughed; Cooper didn't even like writing letters, let alone entire books. He set about doing so nonetheless. Family members were surprised and impressed — and encouraging, even suggesting it could be published. So he did.

In fact, Cooper was very controlling of the publishing details of what became his first book, Precaution. He insisted on a larger 10-point type (rather than the usual 8), for example, partly to make the relatively-short book appear longer. "I have written freely," he explained, "the same as I would talk — have aim'd at nothing but simplicity and clearness." However, clearness was Cooper's problem: the poor legibility in the manuscript he submitted to the typesetter (Cornelius S. Van Winkle, who also worked with Washington Irving). He didn't even break paragraphs (an attempt to save paper) and had to insert asterisks into his manuscript to mark them. The first handful of proof-sheets proved disastrous.

On July 17, 1820, after receiving the bulk of his proofs, Cooper concluded the typesetter had made "tremendous mistakes." He wrote two letters that day in response, showing an iron-hard grip in controlling the printing of his book, but disassociating himself for creating problems because of a sloppy manuscript.

Dialogue, for example, was not set apart, but flowed as normal prose. Cooper scolded the printer for typesetting exactly as he wrote it: "do not... be at all guided by my arrangements in the dialogue." The manuscript was also riddled with an overuse of dashes. "I like the frequent use of the dash — and believe they have ommitted it in one or two cases where I was at pains to insert it." Even so, however, Cooper arbitrarily skipped from dashes to commas — sometimes even in the same sentence: "The evening passed off as such evenings generally do—in gayety—listlessness—dancing—gaping, and heart-burnings." In fact, Cooper often ended sentences with dashes, and noted the typesetter should know which dashes should be replaced with periods.

The same day, July 17, Cooper sailed aboard a whaling vessel, where he would be out of touch for a month. When he returned, he was furious to learn that work on his book had stalled. The proofing process would be a long and hard one before Precaution finally saw print — and failed to garner much attention. His subject matter was British (and the book was published in England) because the author believed an American subject was of no interest.

*Much of the information in this post comes from the highly-detailed biography James Fenimore Cooper: The Early Years by Wayne Franklin.

Memorializing James Fenimore Cooper

James Fenimore Cooper died in September 1851. Despite a slightly abrasive personality, Cooper was immediately recognized as an American literary icon. So, about four weeks later, the editor Rufus Wilmot Griswold presented a resolution to the New York Historical Society to honor Cooper.

Calling him "an illustrious associate and countryman," "a masterly illustrator of our history," someone with "imminent genius" who was "honorable, brave, sincere, generous," Griswold helped organize a committee that became a veritable who's who of "Who are they??" — mostly-forgotten literary critics and writers: Parke Godwin, Fitz-Greene Halleck, George Pope Morris, James Kirke Paulding, Epes Sargent, Gulian Verplanck and, of course, the ubiquitous Nathaniel Parker Willis.

After a couple delays, the major ceremony was held on February 25, 1852 at Metropolitan Hall on Broadway (it was two years old at the time and would burn down two years later). The main address was given by Daniel Webster, then Secretary of State. Griswold himself held the role of co-secretary in organizing the event, though he may have served as Master of Ceremonies (I haven't seen evidence for this yet).

Remembrance letters were sent by Richard Henry Dana, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Samuel F. B. Morse, and Francis Parkman (and a whole bunch of obscure folks). Also speaking was Washington Irving, a somewhat controversial selection. Cooper and Irving were recognized early on for being progenitors of American writing, but they were not good friends. Cooper had antagonized Irving, once calling him a "double dealer" with low moral qualities, though Irving himself showed no animosity in return.

Irving later admitted his speech at Cooper's memorial was poorly-delivered. After him spoke William Cullen Bryant, who mentioned "an unhappy coolness" between Irving and Cooper; Irving was hoping that coolness would not come up. Even so, the event was recorded as a success; Elizabeth Oakes Smith was in the audience and, allegedly, was brought to tears. "The whole affair succeeded quite well," recorded Griswold.

Not quite so well, Dr. Griswold.

The committee hoped the event would raise enough money to honor Cooper with a large public statue. They fell short of their goal, raising less than $700. They gave the proceeds to another effort which led to a Cooper monument in Lakewood Cemetery — a marble pillar over 20-feet tall, surmounted by a statue of the author's most famous character, Leather-Stocking (a.k.a. Natty Bumpo).

 

*The image is from the James Fenimore Cooper Society.

Cooper and his last Mohican

According to a letter by James Fenimore Cooper, The Last of the Mohicans was published by the publishing house of Carey on February 6, 1826. Cooper admits he was a bit surprised, noting it came out "about 10 days earlier than I anticipated."

Cooper was already at work trying to find an overseas publisher in England, and even offering that publisher the opportunity to sell it to translators for publication in continental Europe. Cooper, like his contemporary (and sometime rival) Washington Irving, was concerned about book piracy thanks to the lack of international copyright. In the same letter to his potential British publisher, he notes that his earlier novel The Pilot: A Tale of the Sea "has been printed by some adventurer or other." He pleadingly asks, "Is there no way of stopping this?"

For Cooper, concern over European editions was important. The American publishing industry was in its infancy and offered little to no financial return for authors. Worse, the critical world was hard to break into; like many other American authors of the time, American audiences did not fully embrace Cooper until European audiences did so first. In fact, in this same 1826 letter, Cooper announces his plan to move to Europe, partly to take advantage of the presumed higher tastes of Europeans. He stayed for several years. Cooper's star lost some of its brilliance in later years as the author became extremely bitter, and somewhat litigious.

The enduring legacy of Cooper in general and The Last of the Mohicans specifically remains tenuous. The author has been heavily criticized by many, including James Russell Lowell. Lowell said Cooper was capable of writing only one character — Natty Bumppo, the star of many of Cooper's novels — and "all his other men-figures are clothes upon sticks." As for the women characters, Lowell calls them "sappy as maples and flat as a prairie." Edgar Poe had similar views. In his criticism veiled as handwriting analysis (the so-called "Chapter on Autography") he notes there is no distinct character to Cooper's writing and the lines he produces are crooked.

Perhaps Cooper's most well-known criticism came from Mark Twain, who referred to Cooper's various "literary offenses" in essay form. He wrote of The Deerslayer (a sequel to The Last of the Mohicans), "in the restricted space of two-thirds of a page, Cooper has scored 114 offences against literary art out of a possible 115. It breaks the record."