Random Sketches of Fifty, Sixty and More Years Ago
By R. Fry
Freeman's Journal, Cooperstown, NY, November 8, 1877
My Dear Journal: After an absence of nearly half a century, we again find ourselves in the beautiful village of Cooperstown [Otsego Co. NY], where many of the pleasantest years of life were spent. As we look around for the old places of business, stores, shops, offices and hotels, thou alone, The Freeman's Journal greetest us in days of yore. No other sign board but thine reads today as it did then. The metamorphosis is complete. Of the active men of that day, no visible indications remain to point out the places of their trade or calling. We, too, have changed. We left here in the full vigor of early manhood. We return with grizzled locks, wrinkled brow and marks of age deeply fixed upon all our features. In our boyhood we thought this village the finest place in all the land. Our eyes had looked upon few others. Since then, we have seen many. We have wandered thru more than half of the states of the union and still we think Cooperstown the loveliest village of the land. Unlike us, she had not grown old. She shows no marks of decay. She stands today in the full bloom of early summer. Her small and sparse shade trees have been multiplied and assumed forest like dimensions. The sapling elm that we could span with our hands, now requires both arms to encircle, bowing gracefully to the zephyr's kiss, or weaving its long reaching, giant arms in defiance of the winds and storms. Everywhere new, and in many instances elegant residences have been erected, where the hand of a Shenstone has been at work adorning the grounds with walls, lawns, fountains, shrubbery and floral decorating until had we been placed in almost any part of the village, we should not have known where we were.
Stepping on board the Natty Bumppo at the head of the lake, our minds came back to the Dr. Battius of about fifty years ago. We think the boat was built by the firm of Beadle & Perkins -- both men of mind and mechanical skill. It was an ungainly flat one-decked boat, propelled by a two-horsepower. When the horses commenced their work, the paddle wheels were set in motion and the Dr. Battius moved apace upon the waters. It was a success and Cooperstown was blessed with a conveyance by water to any part of her inland sea. Parties of pleasure could be carried to Three or Five Mile Point and Otsego Lake floated a horse boat. We were among the hundred or more passengers of the first voyage. It was a day of general hilarity and rejoicing; speeches, song, story and repartee enlivened the festal occasion.
Our memory goes back to this time when thy predecessor, The Cooperstown Federalist, was battling the old Republican organ, The Otsego Herald. Elihu Phinney, the father of H.&R. Phinney, the old book firm, was the editor of the latter and John H. Prentiss of the former. At a later period and after Col. Prentiss had changed the title of the paper to The Freeman's Journal, we were frequently in the press room and often found him with coat off, sleeves rolled up, either inking the type with two large soft balls, or pulling at the lever of the old Ramage press. He was an industrious energetic man a little inclined to aristocratic bearing, but open, frank and cordial with his friends.
Near the close of Monroe's administration, men rather than parties began to loom up in the political horizon and Prentiss advocated the election of Jackson, and Crandal, of the Watch-Tower, that of Adams, both at this time claiming to belong to the Republican or Democratic party. As the Adams party was finally beaten and fell from power, the Watch-Tower soon went down with it, while you, my dear Journal lived and flourished. Prentiss, as is well known, was afterwards elected to Congress, where few northern members took a fairer stand, especially among the northern members, than he.
Among the notables of sixty years ago was James Hawks, a very popular sheriff, whom we well recollect, who by his forbearance and leniency saved many businessmen from impending ruin. Isaac Williams, also a one time Sheriff, and a member of Congress for three terms, was a very popular man. We were too young to vote at the time, but became intimately acquainted with him in after life.
About the beginning of the present century, Jedediah Peck was the most adroit politician and influential man of that day. He served five terms in the Assembly and one in the Senate and was also a member of the Council of Appointment. We remember, when a small boy, of seeing him in the center of a crowd of listeners, near the old Griffin tavern, a small plainly clad, old, dried up, one-eyed man, still the political Nestor of the time. When a member of the Assembly, his dress was always of simple homemade material, with coarse stoga boots. At one time his fellow members thinking to have some sport at his expense, caused one of his boots to be nicely blacked and placed beside the other. when he came down in the morning, he put on the unblacked boot but could not find its mate. After looking around the room a moment, he discovered by the visibility of the crowd gathered to witness the denouement that some joke was intended. He turned and examined the polished boot; a sudden light flashed upon him; he drew it on unabashed, entered into conversation and when the hour came for meeting at the House, walked into the Assembly chamber and delivered one of his most telling speeches.
Among the early physicians was Dr. Pomeroy, a polished gentleman, held in high repute as a successful practitioner. Through his skill the life of an elder brother of ours was saved. The Doctor soon after removed to Utica [Oneida Co. NY].
The venerable Dr. Thomas Fuller then became the principal practitioner and so continued for many years. He was a man greatly respected and patronized by the better class of society. His daughters led the ton of fashion. The long, broad, high, scoop-shovel bonnets were just coming into use. We recollect seeing two of the girls enter the Presbyterian church after services had commenced, walk down the broad aisle and seat themselves near the altar, wearing bonnets of such huge dimensions that the spirit of devotion was lost, while all eyes gazed at the coming fashion that was to adorn the heads of the fair. How oddly they would look now! Just as oddly would those of today have appeared then. Fashion is omnipotent and woman must obey.
Dr. Peckham followed. His practice was never extensive, and he soon left and established himself in Utica.
At the time we left, and many years before, Drs. Spaford and Curtiss were the principla practitioners. During this period Dr. Z.W. Lay came into the village and by his pleasing address, polished manners and adroit adaptation to the whims and idiosyncrasies of his patrons, walked at once into the parlor graces of the ladies and through their influence came into an almost unlimited practice. The other physicians stood aghast at the inroads he was making, as one by one their patients were employing their rival. His popularity was of short duration. Its ebb was as rapid as its flow, and he remained but a limited season.
Dr. Spafard in whose office we were for a year or more, was never a happy man. His mind was of the first order, clear, logical, quick to perceive and prompt to execute. His pecuniary wants were always pressing. He had constantly to battle against prejudices either true or fancied. He came slowly into practice, at first mainly among the poorer classes, gradually working his way into the higher circle of wealth and fashion. The least error of his own, or complaint of others, worried him. the loss of a patient would so prey upon his sensitive nature as to render him at times distracted and sleepless. Not only were his warm sympathies called into action, but his professional reputation was at stake. If one of his patients left him and employed another physician, it became a living source of discomfort and harassed his mind continually. He would brood over it, talk of it, and imagine a thousand absurd reasons why it should have taken place. He was above the little arts of trickery and deception in his practice, and it grieved him to see it in others. He had ensconced himself in the temple of truth and honor, and it pained him to look out upon the world and see the tracks of duplicity and crime everywhere visible around him. Such was a Dr. Ariel Spafard a true, worthy, clear-minded, but over-sensitive and unhappy man.
Among the more prominent divines was the Rev. John Smith, who occupied the pulpit of the Presbyterian church. He was a very tall, strong-built man, and was accosted by Samuel Cooper, the youngest of the Cooper brothers, who in stature was the extreme reverse of the accosted: "Good morning, Mr. Smith; how is the weather up there? it is very fine down here." Smith was a man of fine erudition, and delivered strong orthodox sermons. His elocution was not attractive, and his voice was thick and a little monotonous. His manner of delivery, though not bad, lacked in these essential elements that keep up the interest or give force to a discourse.
Rev. Frederick T. Tiffany officiated in the Episcopal church. He was a well-formed man, his whole contour marked and commanding. As he stood in the pulpit with his hair brushed back, disclosing a broad and imposing forehead, with a full, clear eye and finely formed face bearing the impress of thought and insight, his audience was ever fully prepared for the feast that was to follow. His gestures were easy and graceful, his voice full, deep and clear, finely toned to give effect to the sentiments expressed. When he spoke, the spirit of the words glowed in every feature. We always loved to hear him read the Episcopal liturgy, or opening service. It was so different from the dull, lifeless formal manner so often heard in those churches. Every word was pronounced with a fervor of devotion that gave the text its full significance and cold must have been that heart that could go through with the responses of the service and not, at least for the time, give itself up to the service of its Maker. He was afterwards Chaplain to Congress.
The Bar at this time was unexcelled in the State, or at least west of the Hudson. Early in the present century there came to Cooperstown two young men, Ambrose L. Jordan and Samuel Starkweather who soon became the leading members of the Bar and retained that position for a great number of years, until they left for other theatres of action. Jordan was a tall, slim, symmetrically built man, having a prepossessing countenance and pleasing address. Starkweather was more strongly proportioned of darkish features, dark eyes and hair, with a massive head set upon broad shoulders, and every feature of his face indicative of strong will and energetic action. In natural eloquence Jordan occupied the first rank. In close logical reasoning Starkweather was fully his equal. The former kept the attention and won upon the jury by figures and tropes; the latter pressed home his argument continually and forced conviction. Jordan often brought his pleadings into play with the imagination; Starkweather kept his pleading ever bearing upon the intellect. Jordan often turned from the jury to indulge in personal allusion to worry his opponent; Starkweather seldom indulged in satire, but when he did, it always, like the bee, left its sting behind. Jordan was often playful and diffuse; Starkweather always clear and methodical. They were both men of mark and would have been marked men before any tribunal. Jordan was terrible in sarcasm. One Asbro Newman a poor, worthless, drunken fellow, ever ready to testify upon either side for a drink of whisky, was brought upon the witness stand. Jordan knew his man. After exhibiting his character in its true light and ringing all the changes of his worthlessness and ridiculing his opponent for bringing him there, he closed by saying, " I do not believe he ever was the son of old Elder Newman, but the legitimate son of Beelzebub, the prince of devils." Poor Asbro never appeared in court as a witness afterwards.
Robert Campbell was a stout build man, with a full face, slightly retiring forehead, a trifle balk, urbane and unassuming in deportment. He was a man of sterling worth and held in the highest estimation. His advice was much sought and implicitly relied upon. As a pleader he was but moderately eloquent, but a Bismarck in council.
George Morell was less rated as an advocate than for his polished manners and faultless diction.
John C. Morris was a lawyer of ability - his character as a man I will not attempt to discuss. He was at one time First Judge of the Court of Common Pleas. It was during this time that he was prosecuted for a verbal libel, against a merchant or manufacturer in his native town of Butternuts [Otsego Co. NY]. The case excited a good deal of interest at the time. His position upon the judicial bench gave the case more than usual prominence. Among the defamatory expressions brought as evidence was another, "I will root him out," which his opposing counsel did not fail to play upon. Of course he had to leave the bench for the time being, but we do not remember who filled his place. The libeled party's attorney was Judge Jonas Platt, one of the oldest Circuit Judge prior to the constitution of 1821. Morris did not deny the allegation but plead justification. Judge Platt had been called a dangerous man before a jury and his pleas at this time was one of the strongest ever delivered before the bar of that Court. He commenced by apologizing for being there, his reluctance to being brought into collision with a younger brother of the bench, but as his client was an old friend, and his assailant had "drawn the sword and thrown away the scabbard, he was obliged to fight it out." The jury we rightly remember brought in a verdict of $1,000 for the plaintiff, which at that day in a country town was looked upon as a rather heavy verdict.
Alvan Stewart of Cherry Valley [Otsego Co. NY] was the clown of the ring, if we may speak thus slightingly of the bar, and had he opened his large moon-like eyes upon the world at a later period and fallen into Barnam's hands while young he would have proved more lucrative to the master showman than all the woolly horses and boy gorillas in Christendom, and formed the no plus ultra of absurd wit and ridicule. He occupied a high position at the bar and the other lawyers disliked to have him follow them. We remember once he and Starkweather were opposing lawyers. The case was an important one. Starkweather made the opening plea to the jury, and Stewart took a position so as to gaze continually into the face of his opponent, evidently with the intent to attract his attention and interfere with his argument. Starkweather, however, went on and made a masterly argument, yet not a little irritated at Stewart's absurd look and position. While grappling with and elucidating the strong points at issue, he kept the closest attention of the jury, producing conviction in the justice of his positions and sat down satisfied that he would have a favorable verdict. Before doing so he, perhaps unwisely, made some allusion to Stewart's eyes, cautioned the jury against being influenced by the well-known absurdities and ridicule he was wont to introduce -- Stewart in the meantime sitting clam and dignified as a turkey-cock beside his brooding mate before awaking the dawn with his matin gobbling. By-the-by, he begins to gather himself up and slowly lengthens out to his full height, about six feet four. His blue frock coat thrown back upon his shoulders sets loosely around him. His arms hang down beside him like useless appendages to a statue; his white vest all open except one or two buttons at the bottom; his white necktie wound carelessly about his neck; his shirt collar wide open; his face, a kind of oblong square with a little of the rectangular corners lacking, drawn down in a grotesque manner than Nast has yet to rival; his eyes large and prominent so turned as to exhibit most of the sclerotic coat or white of the balls, altogether presenting the buffoon in his most burlesque attitude--His first movement is to turn his head and roll his eyes so as to fix the attention of the audience, who were ever ready to laugh when his lips opened, whether wit or folly came from them. Then with an awkward bow, he paid his respects to the Bench, and getting round to the jury, commences, "It appears, gentlemen of the jury, from the remarks of the opposing council," here turning to Starkweather, "that my eyes constitute the principal thing at issue," pausing a moment, then turning again to the jury, "In the cause pending before us. They are the same eyes that my Maker fashioned for me, and I have used them continually ever since I was a boy," drawing the last word out with a deep, guttural voice, "and this is the first time that I have ever heard their legitimacy or wrongdoing questioned." He then goes on to compare them to two full moons resting upon the horizon, which seemed necessary to dispel a little of the darkness that under the pretense of light and justice, has been ingeniously thrown around the cause they were to decide. But it is useless to give his words or their import so long as we cannot present his person, or the manner of their delivery. For a full half hour his rambling burlesque was continued, only now and then touching upon the cause on trial, and then only to throw ridicule upon some of the points previously argued by the plaintiff. During all this time the spectators were shaking with laughter, and the jury and even the Court had to press their lips to retain their gravity and were not always successful. More than once he was interrupted by Starkweather for bringing in things not apropos to the subject under litigation, or making statements not warranted by the facts. Stewart would stand and stare at him till he got through, then turn to the Court and if the decision was against him strike into some other line of buffoonery equally ridiculous. In conclusion he came down to argumentation, bringing his logic to bear upon those points that he had not befogged with his ridicule, and sat down in triumph at least as far as the spectators were concerned. The spectators immediately left the courtroom, we among the rest. We were standing near the steps of the old courthouse when, with a number of others, Starkweather came down the steps, freely expressing his indignation at the course Stewart had taken, in language little suited to the altar, or calculated to bring sinners upon their knees at a prayer meeting.--He remarked in substance that it was too bad and provoking to have the facts which he had presented to the jury in so plain a manner, befogged by such low buffoonery, interlarding his talk with sundry single and double-headed adjective of rather sinister import. Stewart afterward became a somewhat noted lecturer in the abolition contest.
Besides those lawyers we have mentioned were E.B. Morehouse, Samuel S. Bowne, Levi Beardsley, J.D. Hammond, and others. Geo. A. Starkweather was at that time comparatively a young man with his laurels yet to win.
As we turn back to the scenes of the past, a feeling of sadness comes creeping over us. All those, save one, whose names we have mentioned, have seen "the last of earth," and "dust to dust and ashes to ashes" has been echoed over their last resting place. Prentiss and Crandal sleep side by side, and no political bickerings shall awaken animosity or disturb their repose. The Reverends Smith and Tiffany that used to administer to the spiritual wants of the people, have passed into the spirit land and their voices are hushed forever. The scalpel, the lancet and medicine box are no longer handled by Drs. Pomeroy, Fuller, Peckham, Spafard, Lay and Curtiss, while they rest from their labors and with them all cares, strifes and envies are buried. And of all those master minds that were wont to flash their swords of logic, wit and sarcasm in the forensic arenas, George A. Starkweather alone survives [in 1877], like the aged and weather-beaten pine of the valley, who having lived to see all his fellows one by one fallen around him, is still green and vigorous at the top.
Your hand George. Wonderful changes in the arts, society, men and nations have transpired since you and I drew on our first new boots. Often have we had to mourn over the loss of dear ones and breaks in the social circle. Our country has passed successfully through three wars, two foreign and one internal. Our sister continent of South America has been freed from foreign rulers. Europe has been the theatre of mighty conflicts, and empires have struggled to perpetuate their existence or extend their dominion over others, and a million of her sons have sacrificed their lives at the bidding of ambition and legitimate rule, and lights have appeared in the Far East. Our scans are approaching the verge of the horizon, and no hand can prevent their setting. It is well. "It is as natural to die as it is to be born," and just as much of a blessing. what a world this would be if all the wrecks of the human race of the past ages were still here!
