e portraits of his children drawn about this time by his daughter
Susan, as shown on the opposite page.

[Illustration: MRS. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER AND HER SON PAUL.]

[Illustration: THE CHILDREN OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.]

During the dreadful siege of cholera in Paris, Cooper and his family
remained in the stricken city, fearing to fare worse with country
discomforts. In contrast to many instances of heroic devotion were
artists' funny pictures of the scourge. The Tuileries gardens were
deserted, and Paul missed his apple-women friends of the corners between
rue St. Dominique and Pont Royal; and the flight through the city of Mr.
Van Buren and other friends were a few personal incidents of this
awesome time.

July 18 Cooper and his family left Paris for the Rhine country. They
enjoyed Brussels, and old Antwerp's Dutch art and its beautiful
cathedral-tower that Napoleon thought should be kept under glass. They
found Liege "alive with people" to greet their arrival at the _Golden
Sun_, where they were mistaken for the expected and almost new king,
Leopold, and his fine-looking brother. Sad truth brought cold looks and
back views among other shadows of neglect. Cooper noted: The "_Golden
Sun_ veiled its face from us; we quit the great square to seek more
humble lodgings at the _Black Eagle_, a clean, good house." In Liege
were seen the venerable, interesting churches, which caused Cooper to
think, "I sometimes wish I had been educated a Catholic in order to
unite the poetry of religion with its higher principles." He called _The
Angelus_ "the open prayer of the fields," and wrote of it: "I remember
with pleasure the effect produced by the bell of the village church as
it sent its warning voice on such occasions across the plains and over
the hills, while we were dwellers in French or Italian hamlets."

[Illustration: THE ANGELUS.]

In the "Life of Samuel F.B. Morse" by Samuel Irenaeus Prime appears
Cooper's letter from "Spa, July 31, 1832," to

My Dear Morse: I have had a great compliment paid me, Master
Samuel,--You must know there is a great painter in Bruxelles of the
name of Verboeckhoven, (which means a _bull and a book baked in an
oven!_) who is another Paul Potter. He out does all other men in
drawing cattle,--Well, sir, this artist did me the favor to call at
Bruxelles with the request that I would let him sketch my face. He
came after the horses were ordered,