ong those who found their way to Otsego Hall was the Marquis de
Talleyrand, who was pleased to write an acrostic on Miss Cooper, then
seventeen. The famous Frenchman's record, in part, of this visit was
"_Otsego n'est pas gai_." Compared to the France of Talleyrand's day
this record was true. The _Otsego Herald's_ motto of that time was

Historic truth our _Herald_ shall proclaim, The Law our guide, the
public good our aim.

In its issue of October 2, 1795, appeared the celebrated diplomat's
Acrostic.

Aimable philosophe au printemps de son age,
Ni les temps, ni les lieus n'alterent son esprit;
Ne cedent qu' a ses gouts simples et son etalage,
Au milieu des deserts, elle lit, pense, ecrit.

Cultivez, belle Anna, votre gout pour l'etude;
On ne saurait ici mieux employer son temps;
Otsego n'est pas gai--mais, tout est habitude;
Paris vous deplairait fort au premier moment;
Et qui jouit de soi dans une solitude,
Rentrant au monde, est sur d'en faire I'ornement.

In affectionate remembrance of Miss Cooper the hill just northwest of
Cooperstown was named for her, and "Hannah's Hill" commands one of the
town's finest views. In the quiet shades of Christ's Church yard "belle
Anna" rests beneath a slab bearing some lines by her father, but not her
name.

The August before this sad event Judge Cooper gave the first of the many
"lake parties" that floated over Otsego--"which no waters can rival." In
the fairness of her youth Miss Hannah was there with her little sister,
later Mrs. Pomeroy; and also, among the gay "five and twenty friends
from Philadelphia," were their brothers. Indian canoes and flat-bottomed
skiffs conveyed them to the eastern shore, where, at Two-Mile Point, a
frightened fawn, startled from its forest home by the dogs of Shipman
the hunter,--who later outlined "Leatherstocking,"--darted from the
leafy thicket and plunged into the lake. At once all were in motion to
rescue the little creature now swimming for life. It was successfully
brought to land and became a great pet with Judge Cooper's children; but
one day, frightened by strange, fierce dogs, it bounded into the forest
depths for refuge, and never returned.

The centennial anniversary of this first picnic was celebrated by the
third and fourth generation of Judge Cooper's descendants, who met at
Point Judith to honor the occasion. Of the verses written by Mr. George
Pomeroy Keese concerning this