In a letter addressed to him from his aunt Amelia, many years later, it was observed that Charles labored at breathing when he was a child, suffered a lifelong heart murmur and was missing the "pinkie toe" on one of his feet – this latter physical feature responsible for keeping him out of the service during the Civil War.
Several small sketches from his childhood survive in Hopkins family files at the University of Vermont's Bailey Howe Library in the Special Collections room.
From the age of ten, barely able to reach the stops, Charlie played pipe organ at St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral (Burlington, Vermont).
[1][4] At the age of 16, Charles Jerome Hopkins arrived at Cooper Union and applied for a music teaching position, without credentials or experience.
[8] Becoming an organist at several New York City churches (including the illustrious and historical Trinity Cathedral),[1][3][7] he built up his experience but also set into place the pattern of animosity with those in authority that would plague him his entire life and ruin, in many instances, the successes he could have had.
[1][3] It would seem that there was no professional relationship in his life that did not sour due to Hopkins' general tendency to insist on his righteous and stubborn belief that he was correct in all matters musical and that his opinions must be recognized as valid or someone would suffer the consequences.
[3][5] One of the more volatile and public events precipitated by Hopkins' tendency to offend came after he had given a young lady living in Vermont, with whom he was acquainted in his youth, with a book of poetry.
[7] The young man confronted Jerome at his home and attacked him with a leather strap, leaving marks across his face and injuring one of his hands.
Having already become a figure of some public notice due to his outspoken nature and rather unusual methods of persuasion, much was written by Hopkins supporters and detractors alike about the case and about the farce he had made of the events.
Taking out a quarter page ad in The New York Times, he humiliated his attacker and called him an "... immature, undeveloped ape of a clerk, barely able to appreciate the spoken word... much less fine poetry..."[7] Among his contemporaries, Hopkins could count such a figure as Louis Morreau Gottschalk as his friend and colleague.
Eventually, the American Music Association would vanish before the success of the New York Philharmonic and its wealthy benefactors but for a time it was the champion of musicians and performers struggling to be heard (and paid).
[1][4] Jerome firmly held the belief that crime, drunkenness, idleness and violence would lessen considerably should more citizens take up the demanding and satisfying study of music.
On June 15, 1869, Charles Jerome Hopkins married Sarah Lucinda Lee (nicknamed "Cicily"), at St. Paul's Cathedral in Albany, New York.
In the 1877 Alumnae Edition of the Academy's yearbook, a lovely paragraph is written in memory of "... the dear and delightful Miss Lee", who had graduated in 1860.
She contracted the bronchial consumption that would eventually lead to her death while caring for desperately ill children in hospital, in her line of work with the Guild.
[7] It is well worth reading them to gather a sense of Jerome's biting wit and often hyper-critical observations of his musical peers, written under the names "Timothy Trill" and "Jonathan Swift.
Theodore and the eldest brother, John, came to his rescue, paying his debts so that he would not have to sell or have seized the lovely property of Clover Hill.
It is unknown how much of this kind of cognitive and creative theory originated with Hopkins himself and how much of it came from readings or professional associations with scientists or theorists of the day.
Newspaper articles covered them with intense interest and vast support, the leading opinion being that Hopkins should do more of his "...theoretical work as regards music and engage less in harassing the public with his endless crusades..."[3] The connection between the lectures and Jerome's ongoing battle with society and various personal rivals was apparently lost on those who commented thus.
However, aside from managing to get himself sued for some aggravation caused to his host in England,[4][5] Hopkins experienced success there and came home a little bit wealthier and somewhat restored of his inspiration.
While in Europe, Hopkins visited Franz Liszt, with whom he had had an ongoing correspondence ever since age sixteen,[1] when he had sent the great maestro a musical score for examination.
Hopkins lived to see the first seeds planted for the public support of Arts Education when the New York City Municipal fund was modified early in 1898 to allow schools to set monies aside for musical instruments and teaching staff.
Upon her death and that of Fay's daughter, those documents were donated to Harvard University's Houghton Library as a part of the Sylvia Mitarachi Wright Collection,[4] where they can still be accessed.