had two
wings and a back building added in 1791. It first stood facing Main St.
and Otsego Lake and directly in front of the later Otsego Hall, now
marked by the Indian Hunter. In 1799 it was moved down the street, and
was burned down in 1812. In its time it was the most stately private
house for miles around. The second home, Otsego Hall, built in 1798, was
of bricks which were made at the outlet of the lake. It had seventy feet
of frontage by fifty-six of depth, and had two stories with attic and
basement. The main hall measured twenty-four by forty-eight feet and the
rooms on either side were twenty feet wide. Otsego Hall is said to have
been of the exact, generous proportions of the Van Rensselaer Manor
House at Albany, New York, where Judge Cooper was a frequent visitor.
His own Hall home on Otsego's southern shore ever had "the air and
capacity of a mansion and a history of hospitality well deserved."

[Illustration: THE MANOR.]

[Illustration: ORIGINAL OTSEGO HALL.]

[Illustration: JUDGE WILLIAM COOPER.]

To a friend William Cooper wrote: "I began life with a small capital
and a large family, and yet I have already settled more acres than any
man in America; and I trust no one can justly impute to me any act of
oppression. Your good sense and knowledge will excuse this seeming
boast." He elsewhere said that he owed his success to "a steady mind, a
sober judgment, fortitude, perseverance, and above all, common sense."
And here he lived as a wise and kind landlord among his people. For nine
years he was First Judge of the County Court of Common Pleas, and he
served two terms in Congress. Of Judge William Cooper there are three
portraits,--Gilbert Stuart's of 1797-98, Trumbull's of 1806, and one by
an unknown artist. His kindly gray eye, robust figure, and firm
expression bear out the story of his life as told by these portraits.

James Fenimore Cooper, in a letter to his wife, dated Canajoharie, 1834,
wrote of his father: "I have been up to the ravine to the old Frey
house. It recalled my noble-looking, warmhearted, witty father, with his
deep laugh, sweet voice, and fine, rich eye, as he used to light 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
background. I went to the very spot where one of the old man's slaves
amused Sam and myself with an imitation of a turkey that no artist has
ever yet been able to supplant