[Illustration:  THE U.S.S.  “HUDSON.”]

May 1 the town house was given up for a month of hotel life, and on June 1, at eleven o’clock, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper and their children boarded the Hudson at Whitehall Wharf for Europe.  They left a land-squall—­their maid Abigail—­ashore and found some rough weather ahead before June 30.  “A fine clear day brought in plain sight ninety-seven sail, which had come into the Channel, like ourselves, during the thick weather.  The blue waters were glittering with canvas.”  A little later Cooper wrote:  “There is a cry of ‘Land!’ and I must hasten on deck to revel in the cheerful sight.”  The Hudson brought up at Cowes, Isle of Wight, July 2, 1826; “after a passage of thirty-one days we first put foot in Europe,” wrote Cooper.  In this “toy-town” they found rooms at the “Fountain,” where the windows gave them pretty vistas, and evening brought the first old-country meal, also the first taste of the famous Isle-of-Wight butter, which, however, without salt they thought “tasteless.”  As eager newcomers to strange lands, they made several sight-seeing ventures, among which was enjoyed the ivy-clad ruin of Carisbrook, the one-time prison of Charles I. A few days later they landed on the pier at Southampton, which town is recorded as being “noted for long passages, bow-windows, and old maids.”  Here they found pleasant lodgings, friends, and a sister of Mrs. Cooper’s whereby time was pleasantly passed by the family while Cooper went up to London to see his publishers.  On his return they were soon aboard the Camilla, “shorn of one wing” (one of her two boilers was out of order), and on their way to France.  At midnight they were on deck for their first sight of France; “Land!—­of ghostly hue in the bright moonlight, and other lights glittering from the two towers on the headlands near by.”  Landing at the small port of Havre, they had some weary hours of search before finding shelter in Hotel d’Angleterre.  By a “skirted wonder” of the port their luggage soon passed the customs next morning and they were started for Paris.  They were charmed with the dark old sombre, mysterious towers and fantastic roofs of Rouen, where Cooper bought a large traveling carriage, in which they safely passed the “ugly dragons” that “thrust out their grinning heads from the Normandy towns” on the way to the heart of France.  From the windmills of Montmartre they took in the whole vast capital at a glance.  A short stay was made at a small hotel, where soon after their arrival they engaged “a governess for the girls.”  She proved to be “a furious royalist,” teaching the children that “Washington was a rebel, Lafayette a monster, and Louis XVI a martyr.”  Under the rule of returned royalists was attempted the exclusion of even the name of Bonaparte from French history.  “My girls,” Cooper wrote, “have shown me the history of France—­officially prepared for schools, in which there is no sort of