“Died leaving a memory respected”

In the fall of 1845, as I described yesterday, New Hampshire newspapers published a pair of articles printing Cochran family lore, particularly the story of young James Cochran’s brief and bloody captivity by Natives.

Neither article named its source, but both contained clues.

The first, published in the Exeter News-Letter, described a daughter of James Cochran this way:

well remembered by many of the surviving inhabitants of Derry and Londonderry. She is particularly recollected as a “maiden lady,” highly celebrated as a beauty and a wit, when at an age she was not averse to own, and even delicate and shrewd when far advanced in the “sear and yellow leaf.” Her tongue was a two edged sword, and woe to him who recklessly called forth its exercise. She was for many years a distinguished Mistress of the rod and ferule and died leaving a memory respected, and was gathered to her fathers—for, husband, ”she ne’er had ony.”

I take that as a hint that the writer “G.” had personally known this woman as a schoolteacher (“Mistress of the rod and ferule”). He may well have heard the family stories from her but didn’t write them down until after her death and thus had no way of assaying this ”tradition.”

In contrast, the editors of the Portsmouth Journal of Literature and Politics dropped that character sketch entirely from their version. Perhaps it didn’t sit right with their new source: a living granddaughter of James Cochran through his son John, and thus a niece of the teacher.

That granddaughter said she had known her grandfather in his old age:

Capt. James Cochran removed to St. Johns, New-Brunswick, where he closed his life in 1795, at 84 years of age. This lady was with him several years, watched over him in his declining years, and attended his dying bed. She says, he never used to speak of the Indian adventure with exultation. The anniversary of that day he ever observed with a melancholy, grateful feeling—regarding it as a merciful providence, than as an achievement of personal heroism.

Thus, she might have heard James Cochran’s story of captivity and escape from the man himself, decades later.

However, instead of getting that granddaughter to tell the story as she had heard it, the Portsmouth Journal mostly reprinted the earlier article, now with her endorsement. The second version includes a little more detail about James getting out of his bonds and his canoe sinking, but that’s it. Otherwise, the second account is a word-for-word replication of the first.

We’re thus presented with a story that appears to be one remove from James Cochran (James —> granddaughter), but was actually in some respects multiple steps away (James —> daughter —> “G.” —> granddaughter?).

The Portsmouth Journal also ran an expanded version of the Exeter News-Letter’s anecdote about James Cochran’s son at Fort William and Mary. It offered important corrections like:

• That man was John Cochran, not a second James.
• He “was a cousin and not the father, as has been stated, of Lord Admiral Cochran.”

(That had to be a distant cousinage at best.)

Nonetheless, the second telling once again adopted some sentences word for word from the first. John Cochran’s daughter told her own story in part through the voice of “G.,” whom she had apparently never met.

TOMORROW: Those anecdotes from the fort.

(The picture above, courtesy of Find a Grave, shows a stone in East Derry, New Hampshire, carved “In Memory of James Cochran…,” who died in 1795 “in ye. 85th. year.” Given the granddaughter’s description of his death in St. John, this would be a cenotaph, not a gravestone.)