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LIBERTY TREE OF ANNAPOLIS
Photo by K. S. Nicholson

HISTORIC
AMERICAN TREES

By
KATHARINE STANLEY NICHOLSON

Photographs by the Author and Others

NEW YORK
FRYE PUBLISHING COMPANY

15 WEST 107th STREET

y

AS20\'70

Copyright, 1922, by
KATHARINE STANLEY NICHOLSON

DEDICATED
by permission
to

Honorable William C. Sproul

Governor of Pennsylvania
As A Slight Token of Appreciation of
His Splendid Service

In Forest Conservation

COPY

THE GOVERNOR’S LETTER

EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT
HARRISBURG

The Gobernor December 16, 1920

MISS KATHARINE STANLEY NICHOLSON
22 South Eighteenth Street
Philadelphia, Pa,

Dear Friend:

Your gracious note of the 13th is at hand. Of course, 1 should greatly appreciate
such an honor as the dedication of your book to me, and I only wish that I might have
the satisfaction of feeling that I really deserved such a distinction.

I am greatly interested in what you are planning and I trust that your work will
be eminently successful.

With appreciation and kind regards, I am,

Sincerely yours,

(Signed) WM. C. SPROUL

Indian Trail Tree ..... uekaes
Liberty Tree of Annapolis - ee

Salem Oak .

Largest Oak in n Pennsylvania Bde

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Onis onset ilseesn ae ea pos Se See se ese eee
Oaks .... Ethiugicee gus gusc cage a enew Gmaty
OAS eho SRS SOO ren ee a Ee eS ew ie St ea
Poplars 2.0.0.0 c eck estas

Poplars—Syeamores ee en Tre Tre re
The Penn Treaty Elm ... 2.0.0... eee ce ee ee eee
FAQS: oh say een wre ees

Sugar Maples eres

Memorial Trees .......

Willows—Inwood Tulip Tree—Stockton Coialpas
—Hamilton’s Trees—Treaty Tree of Gross

He as4 se caveaces «
Cypress—Yews .........
Pines 2 25.cceweies sae en
Pines Sequois Loans
Nut Trees .

“Nut ‘trees — Fadia "Trail Pee an taasah pi iealare

Mulberries ....... het patice
Pears—The Traveling ‘Novsery «
APPles: 56 se nie Oot oeew Bees

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

« -FACING PAGE

Sycamore and Lafayette’s Hleadquarters oer
Pringle Sycamore ....... ere

Penn Treaty Elm ....

Frye Elia. css uses Satis Seta a eer eee
Roosevelt Sugar Maple . Dee acts aoe

Napoleon Willows .....

Whittier Pines .

Sequoia .....

Daniel Boone’s Bar Tree . ee

Black Walnut of Stony Point .

Mulberry Walk ........ 5 wate owes ek

Box Hedge of Count Du Barry eames

4

101

.. Front Cover
. .Frontispiece

Il
21
31
35
38
47

FOREWORD

“Old Trees in their living state, are treasures that money cannot
buy,” wrote Walter Savage Landor.

Treasures, indeed, though too seldom appreciated! Intimately
associated as they are in many instances with our National life as well
as with local events, much of the history of America is written in the
story of her trees, living or otherwise, and can be traced through a
study of the part they have played in connection with its development.
Living Links in the chain of human interests that spans the centuries,
such trees possess a unique historic value, and should be carefully
preserved.

During the preparation of this volume, gratifying proof of the
widespread interest in our subject has been received by the writer.
From many quarters have come helpful suggestions and valuable
material, and for this kind assistance she wishes here, to make grate-
ful acknowledgment to the various historical societies throughout the
country, also to the following individuals and books:

Mr. James F. Sullivan, Mrs. Margaret M. Halvey, Managing
Editor of The Starry Cross; Mrs. Frederick Winslow Taylor, Mr.
Fred Shelton, Philadelphia; Dr. John W. Harshberger, University
of Pennsylvania; Mrs. M. E. T. Chapin, Miss Sophia K. Seabury,
Miss Alma Dunbar, Mrs. E. P. Gardner, Miss E. Frye Barker, Miss
Nettie Hustis, Mr. Stewart H. Burnham, Mr. William Markham,
New York State; Mr. Harold Rugg, Dartmouth College, New
Hampshire; Mr. Carl Bannwart, Supt. Shade Tree Commission,
Newark, N. J.; Mr. Ransom Kennicott, Forester, Cook County For-
est Preserve, Ill.; Miss Delia Harris Maddox, Baltimore, Maryland;
Mr. Lucien Lamar Knight, State Historian of Georgia; Mr. J. C.
McWhorter, of West Virginia; Dr. John H. Schaffner, Ohio State
University; Mr. A. C. Dart, of North Carolina; Senator George P.
Morehouse, of Kansas; Mr. Robert G. Sproul, Secretary, Save the
Redwoods League, California; Mr. George Himes, of Oregon; Mr.
William E. Foster of Rhode Island, and others who have generously
contributed information that has proved most useful in the prepara-
tion of this book.

American Scenic and Historic Preservation Society, Annual
Reports.

American Forestry Magazine, 1918-1921.

“Annals of Philadelphia,” by John F..Watson.

“Border Settlers of Northwestern Virginia,” by L. V.
McWhorter.

5

Bureau of American Ethnology, Smithsonian Institute, Bulle-
tin 30.

“Brief History of South Dakota,” by Doane Robinson, Secre-
tary, State Historical Society of South Dakota.

“Centennial Biographical History of Riehland and Ashland
Counties, Ohio,” by A. J. Baughman.

“Chronicles of Colonial Maryland,” by James Walter Thomas.
“Daniel Boone,” by John S. C Abbott.
“Daniel Boone,” by Lucille Gulliver.
“First Founders in America,” by William Howard Fitch, M.D.

“Georgia’s Landmarks, Memorials and Legends,” by Lucian
Lamar Knight.

“Guide to Annapolis,” by William O. Stevens and Carroll S.
Alden.
“Historic Highway of America,” by Archer Butler Hulbert.

“History of Dutchess County, New York,” edited by Frank
Hasbrouck.

“History of the Great Republic,” by H. A. Guerber.
“History of Detroit and Michigan,” by Silas Farmer.
“History of Indiana,” by Wm. Henry Smith.
“History and Stories of Nebraska,” by A. E. Sheldon.

_ “Historic Trees of Massachusetts,” by James Raymond
Simmons.

“Hoosac Valley, (The),” by Grace Greylock Niles.
Indiana Arbor and Bird Day Annual.

Journal of the New York Botanic Garden.

“Legends of Trees and Flowers,” by Charles Skinner.
“Lives of Famous Indian Chiefs,” by Norman B. Wood.
“Marking the Santa Fé Trail,” by Mrs. T. A. Cordry.
Memoirs of the Pennsylvania Historical Society.

“Memorials of John Bartram and Humphrey Marshall,” by Wil-
liam Darlington, M.D., L.L.D.

“Memorials of a Half Century,” by Bela Hubbard.
Minnesota Historical Society Historical Collections.

Michigan Pioneer and Historical Society, Vols. XIV and XXII.
National Geographical Magazine.

Ohio Archeological and Historical Publications, Vol. XXII.
Ohio Archeological and Historical Quarterly.

Proceedings of the Delaware County Institute of Science.

“Reminiscences of Famous Georgians,” by Lucien Lamar
Knight..

6

“Review of Facts and Observations Made by Naturalists, Botan-
ists, Historians and Travelers, on the Properties and Productions of
the Sugar Maple Tree,” by E. Jones, published in London, in 1832.

“Roger Williams,” by Oscar S. Strauss.

“Secret of the Big Trees, The” by Ellsworth Huntington, Ph.D.,
F.R.G.S., Harpers’ Magazine.

“Storming of Stony Point,” by Henry P. Johnston, M.A.
“Story of Tennessee,” by James Phelan.

“White Doe (The) ; the Fate of Virginia Dare,” by Sallie South-
hall Cotten.

Wisconsin Archeologist, Vol. XV.

“With the Flowers and Trees in California,” by Charles Francis
Saunders.

Zoological Society Bulletin, September, 1919.
THE AUTHOR

HISTORIC
AMERICAN TREES

Gapog [eoHoysipY wreyes &q peystuint o30U
MVO WaTVS FHL

_ CHAPTER I

The Wi-ten-a-ge-mot Oak—The Charter Oak—The Pelham Oak—
The Fox Oaks—The Salem Oak—The Wadsworth Oak—The
Rappite Oak.

Tue W1-Ten-A-Ge-Mort Oak

This veteran oak is still standing on the ancient Indian Council
Ground at Schagticoke, N. Y. It is in the rear of the old Knicker-
bocker Mansion where Washington Irving was a frequent visitor and
where he discovered the original of his famous character, Dietrich
Knickerbocker.

Nearly two hundred and fifty years ago, at the close of King
Philip’s War, Governor Andros, of New York, planted the oak, the
only Tree of Welfare ever dedicated to the Indians.

In 1676, Governor Andros formed a Board of Indian Commis-
sioners, at Albany, and, able diplomat that he was, set about prevent-
ing the exodus to Canada of discontented Indians from the Hudson
River and Hoosac Valley and influencing them to stay in their own
country. It was during this visit to Albany that he planted the Tree
of Peace at Schagticoke, for the purpose of strengthening the friend-
ship between the Hoosac and Mohawk Indians, and between the
Militia at Fort Albany and the River Indian scouts; and in honor of
the occasion, called a meeting of the conference known as The Wi-ten-
a-ge-mot or Assemblage of the Wise, named after the National
Assembly of early Saxon times prior to the Norman Conquest. About
one thousand warriors, representatives of the Iroquois, Hoosacs,
Pequots, Narragansetts, Pennacooks, Delawares, Mohawks and other
nations obeyed the summons to the conference.

Governor Andros and his staff, the royal militia in their brilliant
uniforms, the Board of Indian Commissioners, judges and clergymen
completed the gathering. Two Dutch pastors of Albany and two
Jesuit Priests of the Mohawk Missions offered prayer while the
Calumet or pipe of peace was selemnly passed around, whites as well
as red men smoking it in turn, to seal their compact of good will.

Belts of wampum embroidered with the Swastika were given by
the Indians to their white friends, and the Governor presented the
River Indian Scouts with tobacco, pipes and uniforms. Three of the
Chiefs broke their bow-strings and buried the hatchet at the foot of the
newly planted oak. Soquon, the orator of the Hoosacs, announced
that the blood had been cleansed from the blade of the hatchet just
buried, and that the warriors would henceforth dance in peace beneath
the Tree of Welfare.

The ceremony and the compact of friendship, symbolized by the
planting of the tiny oak, were long and lovingly remembered by the

11

dian nations, and they held the Tree of Peace in deep regard. Those
Indians living on the oe shore of the Hudson told Governor Belle-
mont, of New York, about the event as follows: It is now six and
twenty years since we were almost dead when we left New England
and were first received into this government; then it was that a tree
was planted at Shakkook, whose branches is spread so that there is a
comfortable shade under the leaves of it; we are unanimously resolved
to live and die under the shadow of that Tree, and pray our Father to
nourish and have a favorable aspect towards that Tree, for you need
not apprehend that tho‘ any of our people go out a hunting, they
will look out for another country, since they like that place called
Shakkook so well.”

Having promised a Council Tree to the Mohawk Scouts also,
Governor Andros planted it, probably in 1676, on the shore of the
Tomhamac River, but it did not fare as well as the Wi-ten-a-ge-mot
Oak, being injured by lightning. “Our neighbors, the Mohawks,
have not been so fortunate,” said Soquon to the Governor, “for their
tree burnt. We have been so happy and fortunate that our number
is increased to that degree that we cannot all be shaded by one tree,
and, therefore, desire that another tree besides that at Schagticoke
may be planted for us.”

The Wi-ten-a-ge-mot Oak is now in its third century of life, its
circumference measures twenty-two feet, and its shade covers an acre.
But it shows unmistakable signs of decay, and unless this can be
arrested, it will not be many years before one of the most historic
trees of the continent will have vanished.

THe CHARTER OAK

The first settlers at Hartford, Conn., found there a white oak, tall
and spreading, already full of years—its age even then being esti-
mated at several centuries—that was a valued land mark of the
Indians. They begged the pioneers to spare the ancient oak while
clearing the forest growth, saying, “It has been the guide nf our an-
cestors for hundreds of years, as to the time of planting our corn,
when the leaves are the size of a mouse’s ears, then is the time to put
the seed into the ground.” Granting the Indians’ request to leave
the ancient oak untouched, the white men builded better than they
knew, for in a few years it had rendered them a service of great worth.

In 1687, Governor Andros, whom King James had appointed
Governor of all New England, attended a session of the Colonial
Assembly at Hartford, and demanded its charter. In an instant, the
lights in the hall were extinguished, and relit, but the historic docu-
ment had vanished from the table where it lay. Captain Wadsworth
had carried it away and concealed it in the old oak’s hollow trunk.

Strangely enough, King Charles II, who had granted the charter,
had himself been obliged to take refuge in the trunk of an oak, eleven
years previous, after the battle of Worcester, England. Later, his

12

friend, Dr. Halley, the astronomer, christened a constellation in the
heavens, “Robur Caroli” (Charles’ Oak), in memory of the event.

Shortly after his demand for the charter, Governor Andros was
recalled, and English courts having decided that, as Hartford had
never relinquished its charter, it was still in force, the precious parch-
ment was brought to light again, and the colonial government was
continued under its provisions. ;

Through another century and a half the Charter Oak remained,
loved and venerated by many admirers, and when in 1856, a heavy
storm laid it low, “the bells of the city were tolled, and a band of
music played funeral dirges over its ruins.”

Tue PELHAM Oak

In 1654, Thomas Pell, of Fairfield, Conn., bought property north
of the Harlem River, “embracing all that tract of land called West-
chester,” in what is now New York State. Beneath the shade of a
large white oak, which has ever since been called by his name, the deed
was signed by the Indian Chiefs Manninepol, Annhook, and five other
Sachems from whom he purchased the land for “two guns, two kettles,
two coats, two adzes, 2 shirts, one barrel of cider and 6 bits of money”’;
the value of the payment is estimated to have amounted to eight
pounds, four shillings and six pence.

Nine days before the transaction, a meeting of the Director Gen-
eral and Council of New Netherlands had taken place, and it had
been resolved to forbid the English settling on any soil which, the
Government claimed had been “long before bought and paid for,”
and to order them “to proceed no farther, but to abandon that spot.”

Pell, being one of the chief offenders, it was reported by the
attorney of the New Netherlands, that he had “dared against the
rights and usages of Christian countries to pretend that he bought
these lands of the natives,” and that he was making a settlement there.
He continued to hold the land, however, ignoring all objections, and
when at length the Dutch surrendered, in .1664, became its undis-
puted owner. In 1666, Governor Nicholls, of New York, confirmed a
large part of Pell’s grant, and “erected a township or manor; the
proprietor rendering and paying in fealty therefor yearly, unto his
Royal Highness, James, Duke of York, or to such governor as should,
from time to time be by him appointed, as an acknowledgment, one
lamb upon the first day of May, (the feast of S. S. Philip and
James) .”

For more than two hundred and fifty years, the old oak had been
famed as the landmark where the beginnings of historic Pelham
Manor were made. It is said to have stood on the Post Road, between
Pelham Bridge and the entrance to the Bartow place. About one
hundred and seventy-five feet south of the bridge, is an oak stump,
surrounded by an iron railing, believed by many to be the remains
of the treaty tree. According to the report of the American Scienic

13

and Historic Preservation Society. however, this is incorrect, and
nothing now is left of the fine old oak but the record of its fame.

Tue Fox Oaks

In 1661, John Bowne, a noted man of his time, built his house in
Flushing, N. Y. He was “so zealous a Quaker that he was exiled
to Holland by Governor Stuyvesant, for his adherence to the sect, and

-did not return home for two years.”

Opposite his home stood two immense oaks, under whose shade
George Fox, Founder of: the Society of Friends, preached to the
Indians in 1672. Under the same trees, Friends were accustomed to
hold their meetings, when the crowds became too large to be accom-
modated in Mr. Bowne’s house. One of the Fox Oaks, as the old
trees were named in honor of the distinguished preachers, lived till
1841, the other surviving a few years longer. They were estimated
to be about five hundred years of age.

Tue SALEM Oak

Another tree long associated with the Society of Friends is the
fine old oak at Salem, N. J. When the land on which it stands came
into the possession of the Society, in 1680, the tree was comparatively
young and slender though perhaps not even then in its first youth.
It is believed to be between three and four hundred years of age,
possibly much older; one of. its largest branches fell in a severe storm
in the autumn of 1920, and showed two hundred and seventy-five
rings of annual growth. ‘The old oak shades one hundred and seven-
teen feet of ground in the Friends Cemetery, and looks the part of a
noble monarch of the primeval forest. One can fancy it rich in
memories of long-past but stirring times, for it has watched over the
development of the town of Salem from its birth, as from time to
time the little community has borne its part in the storm and stress
of history.

The old oak bids fair to be one of the longest-lived of American
trees, for when signs of decay become evident, the aid of tree surgeons
has been promptly enlisted to strengthen and preserve it intact.

Tue WapswortH Oak

Th Wadsworth Oak, or Big Tree, on the Genesee River, at
Genesee, N. Y., was long a tree of note. It was a swamp white oak,
its leaves turning a dull yellow in autumn, instead of the rich red
tint of those of the white oak. Measuring twenty-seven feet in cir-
cumference, it was venerated on account of its size, and the Seneca
Indians named the surrounding country Big Tree, in its honor. Near
it, in 1797, a treaty was made between Robert Morris and the Senecas,
by which they conveyed to him the greater part of their territory.

14

In 1851, the Big Tree came to its end in a heavy freshet which
washed away the river bank. A piece of its trunk was placed on
the Letchworth estate, in the neighborhood, near an old Indian Coun-
cil House, which had been moved there to be kept as a valuable relic,
after it had been abandoned by its former owners of the Senecas
tribe.

Tue Raprire Oak

In 1815, George Rapp, a native of Wurtemburg, Germany, pur-
chased 30,000 acres in Posey Co., Ind., near the confluence of the
Wabash and Ohio Rivers, and founded the community of New Har-
mony. The little settlement was governed by the principles of the
New Testament as he understood them, and was modelled after his
former one in Pennsylvania.

On the night of their arrival at their new home, the colonists slept
under the shade of a large tree, which became known as the Rappite
Oak. Near it, their leader built his house, connecting it by an under-
ground passage with the fort. Traces of the quaint old settlement
still remain, in the odd little houses, none of which boasted a front
door, and one wing of the large church built in the form of a Greek
cross.

During long years the historic rights of the old oak were
respected by later residents in the old home, and though showing the
approach of age, it was left standing. In 1900, a summer storm laid
it low, “after about ninety years of experience in song and story.”

15

CHAPTER II

The De Soto Oak—The Catholic Oak—The Wesley Oak—Teach’s Oak—Two
Royal Oaks—Whipping Tree at Peekskill—Two Oaks that Own Them-

selves—Indian Oak.

Tue Der Soto Oak

Both history and legend have given fame to the handsome,
spreading oak upon the grounds of the Tampa Bay Hotel, Fla.,
whose branches shade an area of one hundred and twenty feet.

In 1539, Ferdinand De Soto, whose name the tree bears, became
Governor of Florida. He was very fond of resting beneath the oak,
and is believed to have made a treaty with the Indians under its shade.
More than three hundred and fifty years later, during the Spanish-
American War, General Nelson A. Miles made his headquarters
beneath the venerable tree.

Tue CaTHoLic OAK

In 1635, the Rev. William Blackstone, a clergyman of the
Church of England, moved from Boston to what is now the village
of Lonsdale, R. I., and is remembered as the first white man to settle
in that State. Close by his grave, near the corner of Broad and Mill
Streets, Lonsdale, stands the immense oak, its trunk measurmg
twenty-seven feet at the ground-level, which he mentions in his writ-
ings as being in its prime in his day.

The old oak has a singular history. In 1843, the Rev. James
Cook Richmond, a missionary of the Episcopal Church, passing on
his way to preach at a neighboring town, paused under its branches,
exclaiming, “What a beautiful tree that is! I think I will hold services
here next Sunday.” As if to form a natural pulpit, two large roots
on one side of the tree enclosed a hollow, where he stood while con-
ducting the services that soon became immensely popular. The first
one was held on Whit Sunday, June 4, 1843, when Mr. Richmond
christened the tree the “Catholic Oak,” evidently using the adjective
in its broadest sense as signifying “universal,” since the services were
intended for all, irrespective of creed.

Crowds attended his first open air service of the Episcopal
Church in this country, it having been estimated that there were more
than six hundred persons present, many of whom never attended
church, but were doubtless attracted by the novelty of the proceeding.

After preaching beneath the oak for several months, Mr. Rich-
mond was sent to another field, but returned every year, to hold
service under the tree on Whitsunday. About the year 1847, he went
again to Europe, taking with him an acorn from his beloved oak, and
planting it in England where it has grown and flourished.

16

An iron railing has been placed around the Catholic Oak, at
Lonsdale, with a tablet commemorating the history of the famous land-
mark which may yet remain through another generation.

Tue WESLEY Oak

On St. Simon’s Island, Ga., less than half a mile from the ruins
of Fort Frederica, stands a gnarled and ancient live oak, under whose
wide-spread branches tradition says that the Wesleys preached, the
pioneers of Methodism in this country.

The old tree is a memento of events enacted near it, of far more
stirring character. Numbering its years at not less than two hundred,
probably many more, its growth was contemporary with the earliest
history of English colonists in Georgia; with the landing on her coast
of the good ship Anne, which brought General James Edward Ogle-
thorpe, “the most illustrious Englishman to cross the sea during the
period of American colonization,” when he came with his followers to
establish in the New World a refuge for the debtors of England; and
with his valiant conquest of the French and Spanish invaders who
threatened the rights and liberties of English settlers in America.

“From the outstretched limbs of the old oak,” says Mr. Lucien
Lamar Knight, the historian, “trail the pendant mosses, giving it an
appearance of great solemnity and beauty, and making it the pictur-
esque embodiment of the austere memories which cluster about the
sacred spot.” Two hundred feet in height, it stands at the gate of the
churchyard of Christ Church, on whose parish-register are the names
of some of the earliest settlers on the island, and under its broad shade
sleep many generations.

The tree is on the direct road to Fort Frederica, built in 1735,
by General Oglethorpe, as a defence against Spanish power, and
named for Frederic, Prince of Wales.

Tracu’s OAK

The old tree, which stands on a little peninsula in a creek tribu-
tary to the Neuse River, at Oriental, N. C., was a prominent figure in
the early history of the State. Long before civilization had placed
a lighthouse or other means of guidance on those shores, the big oak
served to point the way for many a mariner.

It is associated with the pirate Edward Teach, a daring and
troublesome character of those early days. Because of his thick, black
whiskers, he went by the name of Blackbeard. He was an English-
man, and in his youth a sailor under a pirate captain named Korna-
gold, and proved himself an apt pupil. In 1718, he was given
command of a ship captured by his master, and set sail for American
waters.

The coasts of North Carolina and Virginia were Teach’s special
hunting-ground. It is said that when pursued by larger vessels which

17

could not follow him into shallow water, he took refuge in Albemarle
and Pamlico sounds., The old oak was the favorite rendezvous of him-
self and his crew, and large holes were later dug around its foot, in
fruitless efforts to discover the treasure he was known to have amassed
and supposed to have concealed there. ;

When the English king, hopeless of controlling the lawless rovers
who terrorized sailors far and near, offered a pardon to all of them
who would surrender and live as peaceable citizens, Teach availed
himself of the opportunity. He soon tired of the monotony, however,
and started out again, a menace to all he met. At length, Governor
Spottswood, of Virginia, brought matters to a head by dispatching
Lieutenant Maynard in search of him. After a sharp fight, Teach
was killed, and his head was fastened to the bowsprit of Maynard’s
ship, as a trophy. Tradition has it that the headless body swam
round Ocracoke Island nearby, in quest of the pirate crew and their
vessel.

Two Royvazt Oaxs

Two American trees have each borne the title of Royal Oak. One
of them, whose fame is perpetuated in the village of that name, near
the spot where it stood, in the vicinity of Easton, Md., had grown to
such a size that it was supposed to have been standing before the dis-
covery of the New World. Soldiers who fought in the Revolution
were drilled under its branches, but its name originated in an occur-
rence of the War of 1812.

During that struggle, a British ship came to anchor opposite the.
town of St. Michaels, Talbot County, Md., a few miles from the
veteran oak, and opened fire.

The inhabitants, who were unprotected, resorted to a bit of
strategy that proved highly effective. Hanging lighted lanterns in
the tops of the high trees, they deceived the enemy into mistaking them
for the lights of the town, with the satisfactory result that their shots
passed harmlessly overhead.

For a long time, two cannon balls said to be of “local fame”
were suspended from the limbs of the Royal Oak, and after its fall
in 1864, they were placed on a locust post nearby.

A white oak bearing the same distinguished name, stood on a
plain northeast of the Indian trail leading from Detroit to the village
of Pontiac, Mich., and the township of Royal Oak of that neighbor-
hood is named in its honor. The reason for its august title seems,
however, decidedly obscure, as its associations are chiefly with doings
of the red men. There is a tradition that, beneath it, an unfriendly
meeting occurred, Chief Pontiac and representatives of another tribe
being the interested parties. As late as 1825, the scars of arrows,
tomahawks and bullets were said to be visible in its wood. It figured,
also, as a boundary tree, when, in 1819 Governor Case laid out a road

from Woodward Avenue, Detroit, to the end of the road built by

18

the United States troops, then west to a large oak marked H, near
Indian trail, then west to Main Street in Pontiac Village, then to the
end of Main Street.”

Wuirrine TREE AT PEEKSKILL

An oak of old-time associations, that is still flourishing, is the
“Whipping Tree” at Peekskill, N. Y. Beneath it, strenuous correc-
tion was administered in Revoluntionary times to deserters from the
American cause. The tree is situated in a wide field adjoining the
grounds of the Van Cortland Manor-House, Washington’s headquar-
ters when he was in Peekskill. Here Lafayette, Rochambeau, Baron
Von Steuben and other famous soldiers were entertained. Pierre
Van Cortland, thg owner, was Lieutenant-Governor from 1777 to
1795, and acting-Marshal of the Equestrian Provincial’ Congress,
which Congress was more than once obliged to hold its sessions on
horseback, and legislate to meet emergencies. He also served as
President of the Convention that was responsible for the new Federal
constitution of 1781.

Two Oaxs THatT Own THEMSELVES

A fine old oak, near the town of Athens, Ga., fell heir, about a
century ago, to sufficient land to protect it from invasion as long as
Nature shall permit it to stand. In the Town Clerk’s office is recorded
the deed dated in 1820, by which its owner, the Hon. W. H. Jackson,
“for and in consideration of the great affection which he bears said
tree, and his desire to see it protected, has conveyed and by these
presents does convey unto the said tree entire possession of itself, and
the land within eight feet of it on all sides.” Thus insured against any
encroachment upon its rights, the old oak flourishes, today, its age
exceeding three hundred and fifty years, and is a tree of noble propor-
tions. On a tablet under its branches is inscribed a quotation from the
deed. By virtue of being the first tree distinguished as a landowner it
seems fully entitled to rank as historic.

An oak of California, that is claimed to rival in size the Sir
Joseph Hooker oak at Chico in the same State, is fortunate in having
been liberally provided for by Mr. A. E. Wiltse, of New York City,
who has set apart forty acres surrounding the tree, in order that it may
be preserved for generations. The oak has a circumference of thirty-
one feet, and shades a radius of one hundred and thirty feet. Its age
is estimated at from six hundred to seven hundred years.

InpIAN OAK

Maple Hill, Geneva, N. Y., the beautiful estate where Lafayette
was entertained in 1825, possesses seven acres of ancient forest trees
known as Sylvan Grove. One of these trees, called Indian Oak, was a
favorite meeting place of Chief Red Jacket and his companions.

‘

19

This noted chief, “the Indian Demosthenes,” was of the Seneca
tribe, and was the greatest orator of the Six Nations.

He was a young man at the time of the Revolution, and was
often employed by the British officers as a messenger or “runner.”
Both on account of his great physical endurance and his eloquence,
he was able to be of great service to them. In return, the officers pre-
sented him with a handsomely embroidered scarlet jacket which he
wore with great pride; and during the war they kept him supplied with
similar coats. This costume earned for him the title which clung to
him through life. After the close of the war, the Americans were
accustomed to present him with a red jacket whenever they wished
to please him.

The Indian Oak is no longer standing, but a granite rock has
been placed on the site where it grew, a temporary stone of remem-
brance, until a permanent monument shall mark the historic spot.

20

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VINVATASNN4Gd NI YWO LSADYVT FH.L

way Cah
Se, Sy

PKS an

CHAPTER III

: The Bartram Oaks—Corner Oaks—Struck-by-the-Ree’s Tree”—
Washington Oak—Red Oak at Chesterfield—Council Oak of the
Santa Fé Trail.

Tuer Bartram Oaks

In the southwestern section of Philadelphia, Penn., on the bank
of the Schuylkill, stands a quaint old house, built in 1731, by John
Bartram, “The Father of American Botany.” Surrounding it, and
covering from six to seven acres, lies the famous garden which he
cultivated through half a century; a garden which, during his lifetime
was a favorite resort of Washington, Franklin and other men of note,
and which has survived to our own days as a city park and a centre of
interest to nature-lovers.

Many unusual and interesting trees and shrubs collected by
Bartram during his travels through the then unknown region of the
eastern and southern portions of the United States, or sent to him by
friends at home and abroad, found their way into the garden and a
number have survived to our own day. One of the most noticeable
of these trees, the heterophyllus oak, so-called because bearing leaves
of various shapes, still stands guard just south of the old house.

An oak of this description, one whose leaves did not all follow
the same pattern, was of course a novelty, and Peter Collinson, a dis-
tingushed naturalist of London, to whom Bartram was in the habit
of sending boxes of botanical specimens, evidently felt somewhat
slighted at receiving no seeds of such an unusual tree. On March 5,
1770, he wrote to Bartram about it as follows: “Pray what is the
reason I have no acorns from that particular species of oak that
Doctor Mitchell found in thy meadow”? Adding the Latin name,
“Quercus heterophyllus,” so that there would be no doubt to what
he referred.

He also had requested, many years previous, acorns of the Wil-
low-leaved Oak and of the White and Swamp Spanish Oak, all of
them familiar to John Bartram in his travels in American wilds. Per-
haps Collinson voiced his impatience at the length of time that elapsed
before these treasures reached him, for there is a letter of Bartram’s
in reply, written in May, 1738, which says:

“Indeed, I was more than two weeks time in gathering the small
acrons of the Willow-leaved Oak, which are very scarce, and falling
with the leaves,—so that daily I had to rake up the leaves and
shake the acorns out, before they were devoured by the squirrels and
hogs; and I reckoned it good luck if I could gather twenty under one
tree—and hardly one in twenty bore any.”

21

A few miles distant from Bartram’s Garden, in the old village of
Darby, now within the boundaries of Philadelphia, lies the Bartram
farm where in 1699, the future botanist was born, the son of an
English Quaker who had followed the fortunes of William Penn to
the New World. Near the spot was a great oak, in later days rated
as the largest oak in the State, and estimated at the time of its down-
fall in 1910, to be seven hundred years old. It was reported as an
unusual tree by the University of Pennsylvania and various Forestry
Associations. After the old oak had fallen, it was found to be made
up of two trees grown together. =

Its historic value lies in the appropriate association “of the first
oak of Pennsylvania with the first botanist of that State and of
America.”

Corner Oaks

At the foot of Marlin’s Mountain, Marlinton, W. Va., a cluster
of old trees known as “Corner Oaks” have long been associated with
the memory of General Andrew Lewis, the hero of Point Pleasant.
General Lewis volunteered his services in the expedition to take
possession of the Ohio country in 1754.

At the battle of Point Pleasant, at the mouth of the Great
Kanawha River, he acted as Commander in Chief of the American
troops, and gained a signal victory over the Indians of the Shawnee
Confederacy under the celebrated Chief Cornstalk. This battle was
noted as being the most severe conflict with the red men up to that
time. General Lewis was also Washington’s military trainer, and the
latter endeavored to have him appointed Commander-in-Chief of
the Armies of the Revolution.

Corner Oaks bear the following inscription:

“General Andrew Lewis, Oct. 6, 1751.

“STRUCK-BY-THE-REE’s TREE

At Yankton, S. D., stood until a few years ago, an oak known to
the first settlers there as “Struck-by-the-Ree’s Tree.” Beside com-
memorating a savage encounter between the Sioux and the Ree
Indians, it had also been used by the former tribe as a burial tree.

The Sioux Chief who bore the title ‘“Struck-by-the-Ree,” was
born in the late summer of 1804, at the time when Lewis and Clark,
captains of the famous expedition to explore the far west, were en-
camped on Green Island, in the Missouri River, near the present
site of Yankton. The Yankton tribe of the Sioux Indians met with
them there, and together they held “a grand council, powwow and
carousal.”

One day, Captain Lewis heard that a papoose had just been born
in one of the Indian lodges. Sending for the child he wrapped him
in the American flag, prophesying that the boy would become a leader
of his people, and a good friend of the white men. His prediction was
fulfilled, for Struck-by-the-Ree not only became a chief of his tribe,

22

but proud of having been wrapped in the flag at birth, always ranked
himself as a partisan of the white men, and saved many of them from
torture or death in the Yankton massacre of 1863.
Struck-by-the-Ree, grown to young manhood, fell deeply in love
with a beautiful Indian girl. Together they often sat beneath the
oak, talking happily of their future, when one day the terrible war-
whoop of the Rees was heard, and a fierce battle followed. It was
during this encounter that the young warrior received the wound that
earned for him his odd title, though not until after he had suffered a

greater misfortune. »

“A youthful form was seen

To hover at his side

Wherever in the dawn

The Chief could be descried.
Our warrior’s horse was killed
At breaking of the day.

On foot he fought, the youth
But one arm’s length away.

When from a thicket near

An arrow—fiendish dart—

Was sent from sinew string
Straight at my lover’s heart.
The youth like lightning sprang
From beneath a bending free,
Receiving deep in the breast
The arrow of the Ree.

Thou hast saved my life, brave youth
Thy breast hath been my shield;
The Sioux are saved a Chief

Upon this bloody field. ‘

Thy name!—Speak quickly!—Alas!
My Love! O maiden mine!

The arrow for my heart

Hath entered into thine!”

There was only time to carry the dying girl away from the field,
and return, himself, to the battle where he was soon severely wounded
by another dart from the Rees. But summoning all his strength
he led the charge again, while the word passed from one to another
that he was risen from the dead. An overwhelming victory for the
Sioux was the result.

Struck-by-the-Ree recovered from his wound, and lived for a
number of years, returning often to the old oak, to sit under its shade

and mourn his lost love.
WASHINGTON OAK

During the summer of 1791, Washington traveled extensively
through the south, and was one morning entertained at breakfast by
a lady, who lived in the suburbs of Charleston, S.C. Chancing to
hear her order the gardener to cut down a splendid oak because
it obstructed the view from the new portico, he interceded for the
tree, which was spared at his request and which has ever since borne

his name.

From poem “The Old Oak Tree,” by Benjamin Wade Borleigh.
23

Rep Oak AT CHESTERFIELD

A stalwart oak at Chesterfield, 'S. C., described as unchanged
since 1852, bore its part in the Civil War. To its branches was fast-
ened the first flag bearing the words “Immediate Separate State
Action.” There the flag fluttered in the breeze until General Sher-
man arrived on the scene, and burned the jail and courthouse. The
tree had long been a favorite resting place for Indians, whose pipes
and arrowheads were found beneath it.

Councit OAK OF THE SANTA FE TRAIL

This old tree is one of the few that remain, of the original Council
Grove, on the Neosho River, Kan., which was “the largest body of
timber between the Missouri River and the Rocky Mountains, and
the most noted camping and gathering place on the old Santa Fé
trail.”

This famous trail was the “early highway over which the com-
merce of the Plains was carried on for more than a generation before
the whistle of a locomotive had broken the stillness of the prairies.”
It was first used by white traders in 1822, when a caravan started
from Boonville, Mo., and passing through Lexington, Independence
and Westport (now Kansas City), traveled south across the State of
Kansas and on to Santa Fé, N. M., over seven hundred and seventy-
five miles of forest and prairies infested by Indians.

Two years later, in 1824, trade with Santa Fé had increased to
such an extent that the United States Government began to show
an active interest in carrying it forward. The regular route along the
Trail began at Franklin, Mo., and entered Kansas through Johnson
County. This portion of it terminated at Council Grove, where it
was the custom to halt and reorganize the caravans so that several
might proceed together, finding safety in numbers. From the Grove,
the Trail continued southwest, reaching the Arkansas River at the
Great Bend, following the river to Cimarron, and crossing near old
Fort Dodge and the present site of Dodge City, Kan. Here it
divided, one branch leading to New Mexico, and the other joining it
after following a different road. The Atchison, Topeka and Santa
Fé Railway follows the Trail over part of its route.

“There is a wonderful amount of history and romance all along
the Old Santa Fé Trail,” says J. R. Mead, a member of the Trail
Marking Commission for the State Historical Society of Kansas.
“Enough to make volumes of absorbing interest. The trail is lined
with unknown, unmarked graves. From Cow Creek, west to the
State line, every mile has its history of battle attack, ambush, stam-
pede, burned wagons, murdered or captured emigrants, all kinds of
killings and escapes. Nearly every General of note in our Civil War,
sometime in his career passed over the Trail—Sherman, Sheridan,
Harvey, Hancock, Kearney, Miles, Crook, Sumner, Col. Leaven-

24

worth, Kit Carson, and Col. Bent. General Fremont traveled the
Trail from the Great Bend to the mountains.”

In early days, the Trail was the connecting link between east
and west. The only teams seen on it were the six yoke of oxen,
attached to a wagon carrying from six thousand to seven thousand
pounds of freight, and the four or five span of mules drawing a similar
wagon, the number of mules varying according to their size.

On August 10, 1825, representatives of the United States Gov-
ernment met with Chiefs of the Great and Little Osage Indians, in
the old oak grove, near the Neosho River, to arrange for right of way
across the Plains on the Santa Fé Trail. About $800.00 in gold was
paid to the Indians for this privilege. A week later, a similar treaty
was made with the Kansa Indians, near the present town of McPher-
son, Kan. On the 82nd Anniversary of the treaty made in Council
Grove, (Aug. 10, 1907), a granite marker commemorating the event,
was dedicated. It was placed in the Grove, about forty feet distant
from the famous Council Oak, and is one of the finest of the many
monuments on the Trail.

The following verses are quoted from Senator George P. More-
house’s poem entitled “The Council Oak.”

“Yes, eight hundred in gold was the price that it cost,
Yet how small such a sum seems today;

For the tribe by that act such a rich region lost,

When it passed under whites’ ruling sway.

But the chiefs of thé Great and the Little Osage,

When they counted the gold on that day,

Were so filled with delight, that ’twould take quite a page
To relate what they all had to say.

Let us never forget, to the praise of this tribe,
That they never had war with the whites;

But were loyal and true and would scorn ev’ry bribe,
Yet they stood for their just bargained rights.

And they never forgot the ‘Old Council Oak”

Or the treaty they made on that day;

For, to them, it was law and no wise a shrewd joke,
This great Trail to the far Santa Fé.

What a noble old tree is this sturdy tall oak,

What a tale to relate could it speak!

Of the camps and the fires, with their blue curling smoke,
Which ascend from the wigwam’s peak,

Of the storms and the blasts, of the heat and the cold,

Of the going and coming of men;

Let it stand for a record of days that are old

And much plainer than words from my pen.”

25

CHAPTER IV

A Poplar and the Kensington Rune Stone—The Liberty Tree of
Annapolis—The Balmville Tree—Lone Tree.

A Pop.taR AND THE KENSINGTON RUNE STONE

A poplar tree on Mr. Olaf Ohman’s farm near Kensington,
Minn., has become known to fame by reason of the long hidden treas-
ure discovered beneath it.

On November 8, 1898, Mr. Ohman was clearing a piece of land
for ploughing, when his men unearthed from the foot of the poplar
a heavy slab of stone weighing about two hundred and thirty pounds.
On it was an inscription in runes or character used in secret writing
so much in vogue in early times.

Being translated it reads as follows: “Eight Goths (Swedes)
and twenty-two Norwegians upon a journey of discovery from Vin-
land westward. We had a camp by two skerries one days journey
north from this stone. We were out fishing one day. When we
returned home we found ten men red with blood and dead. A. V. M.
(Ave, Virgo Maria) save us from evil. (We) have ten men by the
sea to look after our vessel fourteen (doubtfully forty-one) days’
journey from this island. Year 1362.”

The stone was exhibited, for a while in a drug-store in Kensing-
ton, Minn., and was also submitted to two college professors, both of
whom pronounced the inscription fraudulent. Then it was returned
to its owner, in 1899 and lay in his yard where it was carelessly used as
a stepping-stone near his granary for eight years.

In 1907, Mr. Hjalmar Rued Holand obtained the stone and
exhibited it in the Middle West, and also at the Norman Millennial
Celebration at Ruen, France, in 1911. He brought it to the attention
of the Minnesota Historical Society which directed the Museum Com-
mittee to make an exhaustive investigation of the authenticity of the
inscription. Their researches are published in full, in the Minnesota
Historical Society Collections, Volume 15. They are in part as
follows:

“The party started from Vinland, a very remarkable statement,
in the light of the fact that it is not know, even at this day that a
permanent or even temporary colony was established in Vinland. . . .
In the light of the results of Professor Fernald’s studies on the ‘Plants
of Wineland the Good,’ it is remarkable, if the stone is fraudulent,
that the location of Vinland by the statements of the record, should
agree with the location of that country by Fernald, since all modern
(and even earlier) descriptions of Vinland have placed Vinland either
in Nova Scotia or Massachusetts. Could it have been a random and
accidental coincidence that a fraudulent record should correct the

26

current historical belief of the times? How could an impostor come
to the knowledge that Vinland was nowhere except in Labrador, or
at least in the region about the entrance to Hudson Strait? . .,. .
This agreement with the latest research as to the location of Vinland
is a very suggestive fact.”

Fourteen days journey from “the sea,” if the region of Hudson
Bay is indicated, would have brought the foreigners, with the means of
travel at their command, to the neighborhood where the stone was
discovered and the Bay would have been the nearest port. It is
stated that their most probable route would have been from Vinland
to Hudson Bay, and to Lake Winnipeg via Nelson River, and up the
Red River of the North to the region where the stone was found
buried. :

Professor Fossom and Mr. Holand searched around Lake Chris-
tina and Pelican, as well as other lakes twenty miles north of the stone
trying to locate the “two skerries” or rocks surrounded by water.
Finally, they found two immense boulders, one of granite, the other
gneiss; though not in water now, they are on a point exposed to
destruction by ice and waves, and as the lake level is known to have
been higher five or six hundred years ago, the rocks answer the descrip-
tion perfectly. The gradual drying up of the region through the
intervening centuries, is an established fact. The stone is described
as being on an island, though the ground where it was found is not
one today. As the historian remarks, it is a remarkable fact that
these two skerries exist, and at the right distance from the site of the
stone, and that there are no others. In modern times, they could not
be called skerries, there being no water around them.

The exact description of the location of the camp is no doubt due
to the wish for accuracy as to the burial place of the victims of the
massacre, which was probably the work of native savages. And as
the practice of scalping was unquestionable strange to the Scandina-
vians, they were all the more impressed by the horrible sight, speaking
of their comrades as “red with blood and dead.”

“A. V. M.” stands, of course, for a Roman Catholic expression,
which according to Archboship Ireland, no modern Scandinavian
would use, that nation now being Lutheran. But as it was constantly
employed in the 14th century, in time of the plague or “black death”
its use in the inscription, when danger seemed to threaten, is another
point in favor of antiquity.

It was objected, by some scholars, that certain words used in the
record are too modern; others, however, differed from this opinion.
At length, finding the mass of evidence to point strongly to the
genuineness of the contested statement, the Minnesota Historical
Society made the following announcement: “After carefully con-
sidering all the opposing arguments, the Museum Committee of this
Society, and Mr. Holand, owner of the stone, believe its inscription
is a true historic record.”

27

Which conclusion exonerated Mr. Ohman from the accusation
made against him of having cut the inscription; and further proof of
his-innocence was furnished by the sentinel poplar itself, its roots being
wrapped securely about the stone till they were flattened by contact
with it. Investigation showed that they had been in this condition
without interference, during the tree’s entire lifetime—from thirty to
fifty years—or before his ownership of the farm.

Tue Linerty TRee oF ANNAPOLIS

On the campus of St. John’s College, in the quaint town of
Annapolis, Md., stands a huge poplar long known as the Liberty
Tree, and entitled to fame both on account of its great age and size,
and because of the historic ground on which it grows.

Two feet above ground level, it measures twenty-nine feet, four
inches in circumference, and its height is one hundred and fifty feet.

Tradition tells us that in 1652, a treaty was made under the
Liberty Tree, between the whites and the Susquehannock Indians.
A century later, when problems caused by conditions leading up to the
war of the Revolution were under discussion, patriotic meetings were
held in its shade, probably earning for the old tree its honorable title.
Later still, General Lafayette was entertained beneath its shade, when
he visited Annapolis, in 1824.

The College in front of which the Liberty Tree stands, was
formerly King William’s School, founded in 1694, “for the propaga-
tion of the Gospel, and the education of youth in letters and good
manners.” In 1784, the school was merged into St. John’s College,
whose central and oldest building, McDowell Hall, was begun in 1745.

In the rear, Rochambeau’s army camped, en route to Yorktown
to reinforce Washington’s troops.

Not only does the Liberty Tree commemorate the time honored
events of its vicinity, but its personal history is worth recording. As
years passed, it began to show signs of decay, and was supposed to be
dying. In 1840, some mischievous boys, playing with gunpowder,
placed two pounds in the hollow trunk, and set fire to them. The
tree caught easily, and was soon in flames which were extinguished by
the citizens who, no doubt, supposed it fatally injured!

The prank, however, proved a blessing in disguise, for the blaze
destroyed the worms which were feeding upon its tissues, and the
following year it burst into leaf, hale and hearty, none the worse for
its adventure.

But in 1907, the aged poplar again required attention, having
become so hollowed by decay that eight or ten persons could stand in
the interior. The cavity was filled with over fifty tons of concrete and
the branches were strengthened with iron rods, and thus a much
loved and venerated landmark has been preserved for a long and
prosperous future. So successful has the treatment proved that the

28

tree has withstood a number of severe storms, and every spring it
breaks into leaf with renewed vigor.

It bears the following inscription: “This tablet placed upon the
Liberty Tree by the Peggy Stewart Tea Party Chapter Daughters of
the American Revolution, of Annapolis, Maryland, October 19, 1907,
to commemorate the first treaty made here with the Susquehannocks
in 1652, and that George Washington in 1791, and General Lafayette
in 1824, visited St. John’s College. Through the munificence of
James T. Woodward, of New York City, this tree, estimated to be
over six hundred years old, has been preserved from decay.”

Tuer BaLMVILLE TREE

A short trolley-ride northward from Newburgh-on-the-Hudson,
N. Y., carries one to the village of Balmville, named after the old
balsam poplar, of immense size, that stands in the centre of the
little town. The surrounding country is as full of historic associations
as of natural beauty.

During the Revolution, the town of Newburgh, where Wash-
ington occupied headquarters, and Balmville, situated on a much
traveled route known as the King’s Highway, were frequented by the
American troops. The huge poplar or Balm of Gilead Tree,—so-called
on account of the gum secreted by the leaf-buds and young shoots,
and supposed to possess healing properties—stood on the Highway.
John Cosman, who before the Revolution was apprenticed to a black-
smith in the neighborhood, is quoted as stating that he often shod
horses under the tree which even then was good sized.

But little is known of its early history. According to one account
it grew from a riding-switch that was stuck in the ground; it is also
said to have been brought as a small branch, broken from a tree in the
mountains of New Jersey. Another tradition says that it sprang up,
naturally, in the place where it now stands.

Whatever may be the truth concerning the origin of the huge
tree, however, it is noteworthy both by reason of its probable useful-
ness to the travelers of early*days, and also its remarkable proportions,
the diameter of a poplar ordinarily averaging about seven feet. The
Balmville Tree has been measured several times, and the results
recorded. In Rutenber’s History of Orange County and Newburgh,
it is said that a Mr. James Donnelly who first saw the tree about 1782,
stated that it was then six or eight inches around, with a spreading
top. In 1832, the trunk was measured by a Mr. Williams, who found
that at two feet above the ground, its diameter was fifteen feet, two
inches; in 1868, it had increased to nineteen feet, five inches. Today
it has reached a circumference of twenty-one feet, eight inches, at two
feet above ground level, indicating that it may be much older than is
estimated.

29

Lone TREE

On the north bank of the Platte River, about three miles south-
west of the site of Central City, Neb., stood for many years a solitary
cottonwood known as Lone Tree. Named by the Indians, their chiefs
are said to have held their councils beneath its spreading shade, long
before the first white settler had reached the spot.

Fifty feet tall, Lone Tree could be seen for twenty miles across
the Platte valley, and standing only a few yards from the overland
trail north of the Platte River, it was a favorite rendezvous for the
many travelers who camped nearby in early days, and cut their names
on its bark, until its massive trunk was covered with these hierogly-
phics to the height of thirty feet.

Lone Tree ranch, established in the neighborhood, in 1858, was
christened in honor of the old tree, and so were the postoffice and rail-
way station three miles distant from it.

In 1865, the big cottonwood fell victim to the violence of a heavy
storm, and a portion of its trunk was preserved at Lone Tree station,
(now Central City) as a souvenir of the historic tree that had been
loved by thousands of pioneers in the West. It stood on the station
platform until all the wood had been chipped off and carried away by
tourists.

In 1911, a stone monument in the form of a cottonwood stump
was erected on the spot where Lone Tree grew. “There it stands to-
day,” says A. KE. Sheldon, author of “History and Stories of
Nebraska,” “in perpetual witness to the worth of a tree.”

30

u0jyUS peay a fo &sayino7)
SULLUVNOAVIH SALLIAVAVT UNV JUONVOAS :

CHAPTER V

The Treaty Tree of Indian Springs—The Geneva Century Tree—The
Pueblo Cottonwood—The V aulting-Pole Cottonwood—The Rhode
Island Sycamore—The Charlemont Buttonwood—The Pringle
Sycamore—Lafayette Sycamore—Princeton Sycamores—Syca-
mores of Camp Frelinghuysen—John Goodway Sycamore—A
Sycamore That Owns Itself.

Tur Treaty TREE oF INDIAN SPRINGS

Near Indian Springs, Ga., stands a poplar said to be the largest
tree of its kind in the State, its trunk measuring twelve feet in circum-
ference nearly one hundred feet upward from the ground level. It is
known as the Treaty Tree of Indian Springs, and is a fitting monu-
ment to two famous treaties made in its immediate neighborhood be-
tween the United States and the red men. .

Troubles between the whites and the Indians had marred the
closing years of the 18th century, perhaps due to the increasing
demands for lands owned by the latter. In 1802, Georgia ceded to
the Federal Government all of her territory west of the Chattahoo-
chee, for the sum of $1,250,000.00, with the agreement that all Indian
titles within her borders were to be peaceably obliterated.

This promise was not kept, however, and in 1823, two prominent
men, Campbell and Meriwether, for both of whom counties were after-
ward named, were sent to treat with the Creek Nation, which held a
large tract between the Flint and Chattahoochee. The Upper Creeks,
as they were called, lived in Alabama; the Lower Creeks in Georgia,
headed by General William McIntosh, whose father was a Scotchman,
and his mother an Indian woman.

The conference was not a peaceful one; the Upper Creeks refused
any cession of land to the whites, but the lower Creeks, consenting,
met them at Indian Springs, on February 12, 1825, and signed a
treaty, promising to move west, not later than September 1, 1826.
They were to be paid $4,000.00, and acres of land equal to what they
relinquished.

Angry at the loss of their lands, however, the hostile Creeks
planned and executed one of the most tragic reprisals in the history
of our country.

General McIntosh was the victim, on account of his having
played such a prominent part in the transaction. One hundred and
seventy Indians concealed themselves in the woods close by his house
on the bank of the Chattahooche River, near the modern town of
Carrollton.

Just before daybreak, on May 1, 1825, they set fire to the build-
ing. McIntosh and the friend who was with him, treated the savages

31

to a volley of shots from behind their barricade, but the door was
quickly battered in, and the brave chief who had more than once served
his country well, died a fearful death at the hands of his enemies.

Later, the treaty of 1825 was repudiated by Congress, and a new
one drawn up, altering the boundaries of Georgia. The State’s survey
of the newly acquired land was ordered stopped, by President Adams,
doubtless at the instigation of the discontented chiefs, who had gone
unpunished for the murder of McIntosh and their white friends.

But Governor Troup, of Georgia, General McIntosh’s cousin,
and a vigorous upholder of State sovereignty, stoutly refused to
recognize the changes, and continued the survey of the land which he
had begun by order of the State. He sent the following message to
Congress: “We might constitutionally have appealed to you for
defense against invasion, but you yourselves are the invaders; and,
what is more, the unblushing allies of savages whose cause you have
adopted.” Finally, due to his firm stand, the matter was adjusted
peaceably.

The old Treaty Tree recalls a stirring chapter, indeed, in Ameri-
can history, and has been commemorated in verse by Lucien Lamar
Knight, State Historian of Georgia.

“By the water’s crystal margin,
On whose bosom, dreamily,
Falls the shadow of the forest,
Stands a proud, imperial tree.
No companion rises near it;
No congenial shade is nigh;
Rivaled only by the mountains,
Piled against the purple sky.

“Fit memorial of the Red Man—
Its majestic silence speaks,
Of a time when all these valleys
Held the wigwams of the Creeks.
Ere their fair domain was ceded,
At the white man’s stern behest,
Or the sunset’s beckoning splendors,
Wooed them to the Golden West.

“Like a tall Corinthian column,
Reared beneath a summer cloud,
Part of God’s own grand pavilon,
Verdue-paved and azure-browed;
Reaching from the world below it,
From its sorrow-stricken sod,
To the golden lamps above it—
To the sweeter airs of God.”

Tue LAFAYETTE on GENEVA CENTURY TREE

On June 8, 1825, General Lafayette was entertained at Geneva,
N. Y., while touring that State, and was received by an enthusiastic
gathering, under the tree which still bears his name. The Lafayette or
Geneva Century Tree, as it has also been called, is an immense balsam
poplar, standing on Maple Hill, on the corner of the Albany and
Buffalo turnpike and the old Pre-emption Road. This highway was
once an Indian trail, but became a State road in 1794.

32

The branches of the south half of the tree shade the whole width
of the street, and religious services have been held under them, accom-
modating quite a congregation. One hundred and twenty feet in
height, it boasts a circumference of twenty-four feet, and the diameter
of its foliage measures one hundred and fifteen feet.

The great poplar claims an interesting history. Over a century
ago, when Geneva was a tiny settlement, Ephraim Lee, a free trader,
traveled from Albany to Buffalo by this road. He cut a sapling for
a walking-stick, but overcome with weariness, lay down for a nap
under the maple trees on the hill, sticking his cane in the ground for
safe-keeping. When he awoke and found the lateness of the hour, he
hurried forward on his journey, forgetting the sapling. Passing it on
his trip, the year following, he was surprised to see that it was growing
and in leaf. eo

There it continued to flourish, being spared because of its odd
history, after the maples were cut down. In 1843, the roadmaster
insisted that the tree must be destroyed. The resourceful owner, how-
ever, wasted no time in parleying, but hammered spikes into its trunk
from the ground upward, encasing it in a coat of mail which no axe
could penetrate. Tree experts have been reported as believing that
the iron has been a great factor in the poplar’s age and vigor.

Tue Pursito Corronwoop

A huge poplar or cottonwood at Pueblo, Colo., shaded the burial
spot of the first white woman who died within the boundaries of that
State. Beneath its branches, thirty-six white persons were massacred
by savages and fourteen men were hung from the old tree’s branches.
When the cottonwood was felled in 1883, its age was considered to be
three hundred and eighty years. A cross section of its trunk was
placed on exhibition in Mineral Palace, Pueblo.

VAULTING-PoLE Corronwoop

In the spring of 1815, two boys, Hosea Pierce and a companion,
returned to their homes near Norris City, Ill., after serving in the
War of 1912. Both boys had helped General Jackson to rout the
British at the Battle of New Orleans. During the spring, both
attended a log-rolling on the Pierce farm, and on their way home,
used their cottonwood handspikes as vaulting-poles, making a wager
which could vault the further. They left the handspikes sticking in
the earth, and both poles took root, and developed into fine trees. One
lived till about 1910, the other is still standing at one hundred and
five years of age. It is an immense tree, thirty feet in circumference,
and one hundred and seventy-five feet high. The hollow base of its
trunk is used to shelter setting hens, or as a kennel. It is to be
regretted that no effort is made to preserve this interesting old poplar.

33

Tue Ruopve Istanp SYCAMORE

One disastrous result of the British occupation of Rhode Island
from 1776 to 1779, was the ruthless destruction of its forests, specially
along the coast region. During the severe winter of 1780, when many
refugees from the State returned to their homes, wood was so scarce
that in Newport it sold at $20.00 a cord.

One ancient sycamore remained, however, mysteriously spared to
mourn its departed comrades. It stood on the estate of Thomas R.
Hazard, between the house and the Seaconnet or Eastern Channel. A
few years before the old tree fell in 1869, its trunk measured thirty-
two feet in circumference at twelve inches from the ground. Its upper
portion destroyed by wind and storm, it has been described as “‘the pic-
ture of a desolated Anak of the woods.”

Probably numbering its years at several centuries, the Rhode
Island Sycamore may have witnessed stirring events unrecorded in
American history, as well as the tragic days of the Revolution. One
daring episode that transpired nearby, just below Vaucluse, was the
capture of Pigot, the floating battery, equipped with twelve eight-
pounders and ten swivels, which the British were using to block the
Channel. Captain Silas Talbot undertook its removal; arming the
Hawk, a coasting schooner, with sixty-eight men he sailed down under
cover of a dark night, secured his prisoners by fastening cables over
the hatchway, and carried his prize off to Stonington.

Tur CuarLEMonT Burronwoop

Another historic sycamore or buttonwood stands in the town of
Charlemont, Mass., near the Deerfield River. It is a noble shade tree,
ninety-eight feet in height, while its branches cast their shadow over a
radius of eighty-five feet. Under them passes one of the ancient
highways of the Indians, the “Mohawk Trail.”

Captain Moses Rice, the first pioneer settler of the place, has
left the record, handed down from one member of his family to an-
other, that “he had slept under the Buttonwood tree when there was
not another white person in town.”

He had come to a region that was hostile to strangers, though
for a while the household was unmolested, and was a centre of hospi-
tality for travelers. But in 1746, Captain Rice and his family were
forced to escape to Rutland in order to save their scalps from the
savages. Three years later he returned to find the house destroyed,
and unluckily for himself, rebuilt it.

He was ploughing, in company with his son, grandson, and two
friends on the morning of June 11, 1755, when a party of six Indians,
who were hidden among the trees, waiting the moment most favor-
able to an attack, fired and surrounded them. Captain Rice was
badly wounded, and after a sharp struggle, was scalped and left bleed-
ing, while his companions were either killed or made prisoners. A few
hours later he died at his son’s house.

34

THE PRINGLE SYCAMORE’S DESCENDANT
Courtesy of Mr. J. C. Mc Whorter

On the hillside, in sight of the old Buttonwood, venerable head-
stones, on some of which the inscriptions are nearly obliterated, mark
the graves of himself and his family, and Phineas Arms, another vic-
tim of the same massacre.

THE PRINGLE SYCAMORE

A tree that for many years recalled to memory the earliest white
settlers of West Virginia, was the famous Pringle Sycamore, which
stood about three miles north of the present city of Buckhannon in
that State, at the mouth of a stream known as Turkey Run.

The two brothers, Samuel and John Pringle, deserted from the
British forces at Fort Pitt, in 1761. Their chief concern being how
to escape arrest, they camped with two comrades, first in the wild
country about the Monongahela River, then near the borders of the
Youghioghney. In 1762, they arrived at a settlement in Looney
Creek, but there two of the party were arrested. The Pringles, fortu-
nate enough to get away, continued their travels, finally reaching the
Buckhannon River, and finding, on its bank the old sycamore in whose
hollow trunk they proceeded to make their home. ‘The cavity meas-
ured eleven feet, inside, and in this palatial retreat the fugitives lived
for over two years until the late of autumn of 1767.

Then they faced starvation, only two charges of powder remain-
ing. John journeyed back, across the mountains in search of more
ammunition, and learned that peace had been made with the French
and Indians. No longer fearing arrest, the two brothers left the
old tree which had sheltered them in such friendly fashion, and
returned to their former haunts on the Wappatomaka River, the south
branch of the Potomac. ‘

In the fall of 1768, Samuel led a party of colonists back to the
banks of the Buckhannon, where, the next spring they cleared land,
planted and built their cabins. The first crops were destroyed by
buffalos, and it was not till 1770 that the pioneer settlement was
really established. One of their number was Jesse Hughes, who
became a renowned scout and Indian fighter.

It is an interesting fact that a man named William Pringle, living
in Philadelphia, was the father of two sons named John and Samuel,
born in 1728 and 1731. It is quite possible that the two boys were the
future tenants of the hollow sycamore.

The old tree fell about a century ago, but the stump remained as
late as 1848. It disappeared, but a second tree sprang up from its
roots, and flourished till a flood carried it away in 1880.

But there was still life and enterprise in the roots of the Pringle
Sycamore. “As if reluctant to fail to mark the site of the first primi-
tive home of the white man in that 'region,” says L. V. McWhorter,
the historian, “the roots shot forth a second sprout and this grew
into a bushy tree.” And by a singular coincidence—“It has a cavity

35

in its trunk that will shelter two or three men from an ordinary
storm.”

Mr. Webster Dix, the owner of the sycamore, has promised that
it shall be carefully preserved.

Tur LAFAYETTE SYCAMORE

Among the historic landmarks connected with the Battle of the
Brandywine, visitors to the region are shown the house, on Baltimore
Pike, in Birmingham township, Delaware County, Penn., which Gen-
eral Lafayette occupied as his headquarters, just before the battle, or
early in September, 1777.

Close by the house stands a fine old sycamore, measuring twenty-
two feet in circumference at a short distance above ground level, still
healthy and vigorous, a living memorial of the brave but unequal
struggle, when Washington with 11,000 men attempted to check
Howe’s advance to Philadelphia with nearly double that number.

At the close of the day, Washington retired to Chester, and (so
the story runs), Lafayette, badly wounded in the leg, stood at the
old Third Street bridge in that town, endeavoring to rally the retreat-
ing troops. It is said that he was carried back to headquarters, and
laid under the old sycamore; but it is also stated and probably on good
authority, that he never returned there, but was cared for in Chester.
And in that town three places contend for the honor of having been
the spot where his wounds were treated!

Tue PRINCETON SYCAMORES

In 1765, the year preceding the Stamp Act Repeal, an order was
given to plant a number of sycamores in front of the residence of the
President of the College at Princeton, N. J. It is possible that the
order was not carried out till the following year, and perhaps for this
reason these trees have always been associated with the Stamp Act.
Two of them are still standing, on Nassau Street, the old house being
now occupied by the Dean. They are splendid specimens, about
ninety feet tall, and three feet in diameter at six feet above the ground.

SYCAMORES OF CAMP F‘RELINGHUYSEN

Other sycamores, in Newark, N. J., lay claim to historic interest
as belonging to “Camp Frelinghuysen,” the drill ground for New
Jersey Volunteers, 1862-1865. Men who trained here gave their lives
on every battlefield from Antietam to Appomattox. “One of the trees
is known as the Colonial Plane, and is honored as a tree under which
Washington and his army passed, in 1776. Another, the Academy
Plane, witnessed the burning of the First Academy, in 1780, when a
party of British soldiers crossed the frozen river from New York, and
took the town by surprise.

36

Tur JoHN GooDWAY SYCAMORE

Just outside of Linglestown, Dauphin County, Penn., stands a
sycamore pronounced by the Department of Forestry to be the largest
in the State. The tree is associated with John Goodway; the last of
the friendly Indians in the region about Harrisburg and has been left
standing as a memorial to him. Its circumference is twenty-five feet
and its diameter is over seven feet.

A Sycamore THat Owns ITsELF

Through the kindness of admiring friends, a large sycamore of
Pippapass, Knott County, Ky., has received a gift of land sufficient
to protect it from interference as long as it shall live. While the
tree’s exact age is not known, it must be estimated at many years, the
trunk measuring nine feet in circumference at a height of four feet
from the ground. It shades a home known as “the house of the
sycamore tree,” in the Caney Creek Community Centre, and has been
christened the “Freed-Budd Tree,” probably in compliment to two of
its well wishers.

The deed of conveyance filed in Knott County, on August 20,
1918, reads as follows:

“For, and in consideration of its shade, coolness and inspiration,
and in value of itself as an esthetic asset, the parties of the first part
hereby convey to the party of the second part in trust for the use and
benefit of the said sycamore tree, and to ITSELF as absolute owner,
the said tree, and the said terra-firma, the ground upon which it stands,
is to belong to ITSELF, and is hereby conveyed in the same manner
as the said tree is conveyed, in consideration of the value of itself, as
a resting place for the weary under the shade of said tree, and the
said tree and the said terra-firma are to belong to themselves absolutely
and to each other for all the purposes which Nature and God intended
them, among which is the purpose of the soil to nurture and feed the
tree, and that of the tree to shade, grace and beautify the said terra-
firma.” Thirty-six square feet is the extent of the land owned by the
sycamore.

Herein is contained a happy suggestion for all tree-lovers.

37

CHAPTER VI

The Penn Treaty Elm—Descendants of the Penn Treaty Elm.
Tue Penn Treaty ELM

The Penn Treaty Elm stood at Shackamaxon, on the Delaware,
a few miles north of Philadelphia, Penn., and was a tree of noble pro-
portions, measuring twenty-four feet in circumference at its base, and
noted as having a branch one hundred and fifty feet long. Under its
spreading shade many a council had been held among the chiefs of
the various Indian nations, who either lived in the vicinity, or came as
guests, and to this custom the place owed its name of Shachamaxon.
Originally, as appears in old records, the spelling was Sachamexing
or Sachemexing, derived from the word Sakima, a king or chief,
(whence our familiar word Sachem), and the Indian termination
“ing’’ which signified “locality or place where,” therefore “place where
chiefs resort.”

Naturally enough, it has been thought that the old elm was also
the meeting-place of the chiefs and Mr. Markham, William Penn’s
cousin, who preceded him to the New World, as his representative;
and also the three commissioners, sent by the Proprietor to assist in
looking after his affairs. They brought with them the following
instructions:

“Be tender of offending the Indians. Let them know that you
are come to sit lovingly among them. Let my letter and conditions
with my purchasers about just dealing with them be read in their own
tongue, that they may see we have their good in our eye, equal with
our own interest; and after reading my letter and the said conditions,
then present their kings with what I send them, and make a friend-
ship and league with them according to those conditions, which care-
fully observe, and get them to comply with you; be grave, they love
not to be smiled on.”

The letter referred to.— William Penn’s celebrated letter to the
Indians,—is dated October 18, 1681. “TI shall shortly come to see you,
myself,” he writes, “at which time we may more freely and largely
confer and discourse on these matters. In the meantime, I have sent
my commissioners to treat with you about land and a firm league of
peace.”

It was to confirm this “league of peace” that William Penn met
the chiefs under the treaty tree, in 1682; perhaps also to endorse the
protection promised by his commissioners to the Susquehannas, who
were annoyed by troubles in their territory. The belief that there was,
on this occasion, any transaction concerning the purchase of land by
him, is unfounded, as the earliest authentic record of such a purchase
by himself is dated June 23, 1683. So deeply rooted was this idea,

38

PENN TREATY ELM AND FAIRMAN’S MANSION
Courtesy of Historical Society of Penn.

however, that the Historical Society of Pennsylvania commissioned
Peter du Ponceau and J. Francis Fisher to investigate the truth con-
cerning the famous treaty, and their report published in 1834, but as
too often happens, lying unread in the archives of the Society, sheds
much light upon a story which must always be of interest to lovers of
history.

it clearly shows that the treaty was simply a guarantee of friend-
ship and good-will, in order that the tribes might be assured of the
white mens’ desire for peace and fair dealing. Penn’s fame should rest
not upon the fact of having entered into such an agreement, various
other treaties of similar character having previously been made be-
tween the whites and Indians, but upon the manner in which he lived
up to the spirit of it.

His personal friend, Mr. Oldmixon, who, in 1708, published a
book entitled “The British Empire in America,” records that the
Indians “have been very civil and friendly to the English, who never
lost man, woman or child by them, which neither the colony of Mary-
land nor that of Virginia can say, no more than the great colony of
New England. This friendship and civility of the Pennsylvania
Indians are imputed to Mr. Penn, the Proprietary’s extreme
humanity and bounty to them, he having laid out some thousands of
pounds to instruct, support and oblige them.

Heckewelder, who wrote a history of the Indians of Pennsylvania
and nearby States, says, that the tribes “frequently assembled in the
woods, in some spot, as nearly as possible similar to those where they
used to meet their brother Miquon,” (the Delawares’ name for Penn),
“and there lay his words or speeches, with those of his successors, on
a blanket or clean piece of bark, and with great satisfaction go succes-
sively over the whole. This practice, which I have repeatedly wit-
nessed, continued until the year 1780, when the disturbances which
then took place put an end to it, probably forever.”

Unfortunately, the text of the “Great Treaty” has not been pre-
served. Governor Gordon, of Pennsylvania, (the same who styled
William Penn, “The Father of this Country”) referred to it as having
been recorded in writing, but as no such record could be found in
possession of the Provincial Council at Harrisburg, one or another of
the Provincial governors was accused of having carried it away,
though there seems to have been no good reason for any such rumor.
Our fullest authentic version of its stipulations is contained in Gov-
ernor Gordon’s speech to “Civility” and other Indian Chiefs with
whom he met, at Conestogo, in 1728, on the occasion of another treaty.
He then referred to the “chief heads” of the Penn Treaty as in sub-
stance as follows: that all William Penn’s people and the Indians
should be brethren, showing each other hospitality; that they should
believe no false rumors about each other without ascertaining the
truth, but should ‘bury them as in a bottomless pit’; that they should
promptly acquaint each other of any tidings of danger; that neither

39

should harm the other nor his creatures; that where either injured the
other, satisfaction should be made and the wrong forgotten; and that
both Christians and Indians should acquaint their children with this
“league and firm chain of friendship made between them, and that it
should always be made stronger and stronger, and be kept bright and
clean, without rust or spot, between our children and our children’s
children, while the creeks and rivers run, and while the sun, moon and
stars endure.”

Benjamin West, whose painting of the Great Treaty is famous,
has left us an interesting account of the loving care with which the
old elm was guarded, long years after that occasion.

“This tree,” he writes, ‘to which I well remember, about the year
1755, when a boy, often resorting with my school-fellows, was in some
danger during the American War, when the British possessed the
country, from parties sent out in search for wood for firing, but the
Jate General Simcoe ordered a guard of British soldiers to protect it
from the axe.”

It spite of precautions, however, the grand old tree did not remain
many years longer to serve as a shrine for patriots, but was blown
down in 1810, though one cannot help regretting that it did not sur-
vive another century.

Judge Peters, a friend of Washington, wrote the following lines
in honor of the old elm:

“Let each take a relic from that hallowed tree,
Which like Penn, whom it shaded, immortal shall be;
As the pride of our forests, let elms be renowned,

For the justly-prized virtues with which they abound.
Though time has devoted our tree to decay,

The sage lessons it witnessed survive to our day;

May our trustworthy statesmen, when called to the helm,
Ne’er forget the wise treaty held under the elm.”

DESCENDANTS OF THE PENN Treaty ELM
GENERAL OLIVER’S TREE

When the land where the Treaty Elm had stood, came into the
possession of General Paul A. Oliver’s ancestors, a shoot was dis-
covered springing up from the old tree’s roots. This was transplanted
to Bay Ridge, N. Y., where it flourished until after fifty years it had
almost reached the size of the parent tree. Then the General removed
it to his home at Wilkes-Barre, Penn., where it has continued to
thrive.

On Arbor Day, April 10, 1896, a shoot from General Oliver’s
tree was planted on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania,
Philadelphia, by Governor Hastings of that State, in honor of Wil-
liam Penn, first Governor of the Commonwealth. The tiny sapling
grew into a healthy tree which has rounded out its first quarter
century. It is one of the youngest of the Great Elm’s descendants.

Another scion of the old tree stands on the grounds of the Penn-
sylvania Hospital, Philadelphia, and yet another in the yard of the

40

Friends’ Meeting, in Twelfth Street, in the same city, silent witnesses
to the memory of the Great Treaty, which Voltaire described as the

only agreement “between the Christians and the Indians that was
never sworn to and never broken.”

41

CHAPTER VII

The Markham Elm-—The Wethersfield Elm—A “Great Elm” of West
Virginia—The Neenah Council Tree—The Seneca Council Tree—
The Elm of Italy Hollow—The Fort Howard Elm—The Franklin
Elm—The Kingsport Elm—The Oberlin Elm—The Washington
Elm.

THe Marxkuam ELM

This great tree, believed to have lived through six centuries,
stands on the Markham estate two miles north of Avon, N. Y. It is
an elm of the variety known as weeping; that is, its long, graceful
branches, used as swings by the boys and girls of pioneer times, once
hung in graceful festoons to the ground.

Its trunk measured forty feet around, its height was in propor-
tion, and as its shade covered an acre, the immense elm possessed great
beauty. The Indians of Western New York held it in great venera-
tion and made the spot a favorite camping-ground. It also served
as a resting-place for the early missionaries, scouts and traders.

William Markham, great-grandfather of the present owner of
the estate, is said to have first seen the old elm in 1764, while on a
mission to the Seneca Indians. In 1794, his son purchased the farm,
which has remained in the possession of the family ever smce. More
than half a century ago, the old tree was accidentally set on fire,
according to one story, by a party of sportsmen; this is related to
have occurred during a January thaw, so that the high water sur-
rounding the elm prevented anyone going near enough to extinguish
the blaze, which consequently injured the trunk fatally.

Decay set in, and progressed, so that when the Chief of the Divi-
sion of Forestry, of the Department of Agriculture, at Washington,
wished a cross-section of the trunk for exhibition at the World’s Fair
in Chicago, it was impossible to comply with his request. About this
time, part of the trunk caved in, leaving a space through which a span
of horses could be driven. In 1898, the north side of the huge tree
blew down; this portion was sawed across, and three hundred and
seventy-five rings of annual growth were counted. An estimate of
the age of the part that had decayed near the centre of the tree, placed
its years at six hundred.

Still, the veteran elm had not lost its vitality; in the spring of
1920, after bursting into leaf, and then losing every one through an
onslaught of canker worms, it rallied bravely and in a few weeks was
once more in full foliage.

What tales, if its old trunk could talk,
Would fall upon the listening ear,

Of the wild wolf upon his walk,
The red-man with his spear.

42

It towered the giant of the wood,
In a rich robe of emerald drest,
When launched upon the ocean flood,
Columbus sought the west.

It braved old winter’s rudest shock
When the storm-fiends their trumpets blew,
When on stern Plymouth’s hallowed rock
Landed the May-Flower’s crew.

It was the forest’s pride, when came
The Norsemen, borne grey ocean o’er,
And the Round Tower, long known to fame,
Built on New England’s shore,

Within its hollow trunk are seen

The smoky, blackened marks of fire,
Though in its top of loving green

The wind still tunes its lyre.

THe WETHERSEIELD KLM

A fine old elm in the town of Wethersfield, Conn., is noted both
for its great size and its historic associations. It is the only surviving
member of a group of elms which figured in the early history of the
locality, and were, therefore, landmarks of special interest.

The “wave of enthusiasm for civic beautification” which swept
through the towns and villages of Connecticut during the 17th cen-
tury, is thought to have resulted in the placing of a row of these
splendid shade trees down the centre of many a village street, and it is
believed that the “Great Elm” as it is called, was planted at that
time.

Rising to a height of one hundred and ten feet, its branches
spreading one hundred and seventy-five feet, it is considered by many
to be the largest tree east of Yellowstone Park. Measurements taken
around its roots show a circumference of forty-one feet.

During his tour of the colonies, Charles Wesley preached under
the old elm in 1750, making the spot a memorable one in the religious
history of the country.

This tree has been more fortunate than many of its contempories
in receiving the watchful care necessary to preserve it to attain a
great age.

A “GREAT ELM” oF WEstT VIRGINIA

About sixteen miles north of Clarksburg, W. Va., the birthplace
of General Stonewall Jackson, stood, until 1910, another tree bearing
the title of “Great Elm.” Also famed for its size, it was awarded a
prize as the largest of its kind in the United States. At the ground
level, including the spread of its roots, it measured forty-two feet in
circumference, three feet above the ground, its trunk was twenty-
seven feet around; one hundred and twenty feet high, its branches
reached over a circle of one hundred and forty feet. This tree is
commemorated in Mr. Granville Davissen Hall’s stirring novel, “The

From poem by W. H. C. Hosmer.
43

Daughter of the Elm.” This story deals with events that occurred
just prior to the Civil War, and relates the doings of a band of
robbers that terrorized the surrounding country, using the Great Elm
as their rendezvous.

Tur NEENAH CoUNCIL TREE

A noted Council Tree or Treaty Elm of immense size, stood until
1890, on the point of land that juts out into Lake Winnebago from
the inlet of Fox River, at Neenah, Wis. Large enough to be seen
at a long distance, it served as a guide-post to pilots on the lake.
Beneath its branches, the conversation well known in the history of
the State, is believed to have occurred, between Four Legs, a Winne-
bago Chief, and General Henry Leavenworth.

“When General Leavenworth, some years previous to 1827, was
ascending the Fox River with troops, on his way to the Mississippi,
on arriving at this pass Four Legs came out, dressed in all his gew-
gaws and feathers, and painted after the most approved fashion, and
announced to the General that he could not go through; “the Lake,”
said he, “is locked.”

“Tell him,” said the General, rising in his batteau, with a rifle in
his hand, “that THIS IS THE KEY, and I shall unlock it and
go on.”

The chief had a good deal of the better part of valor in his com-
position, and so he replied, “Very well, tell him he can go.”

The site where the old elm stood for so long, like a watchful
sentinel guarding its domain, is now part of Riverside Park, at
Neenah. A slab of its wood, forming the top of a large table in the
historic log cabin of Governor Doty, in the vicinity, is a treasured
souvenir of olden times.

Tur SENECA COUNCIL TREE

The Seneca Indians possessed a noted Council Tree, a great elm,
near their village of Kanandesaga, N. Y., the last capital of their
nation.

Besides sheltering their conclaves, the old elm marked other-
wise historic ground, for Kanandesaga figured in the French and
Indian War and the Revolution, and during the former war the
English established a fort here, thus securing the friendship and
assistance of the warriors. This relationship continued through the
Revolution, even though the Seneca Chief, “Big Tree,” vowed friend-
ship for Washington and went to visit him.

Later, Kanandesaga was rechristened Geneva, and became the
present city of that name in New York State.

Tue Ei.m or Itaty HoLitow

As a result of the State College of Agriculture’s inquiry con-
ducted during 1920, for the purpose of determining which was the

44

largest tree in New York State, the “Big Elm” of Italy Hollow, near
the border of the towns of Potter and Middlesex, N. Y., carried off
the prize.

Old tradition marks this as a favorite Indian Council Tree, and
the only member of the primeval forest that escaped the pioneer’s
axe, in that locality. As its trunk measures thirty-two feet in girth,
while it shades an area of eight thousand six hundred and fifty square
feet, the splendid old tree is fully entitled to the honor accorded it.
Standing at the junction of several Indian trails, it furnished an
accessible meeting-place for the various tribes. While the council
fires burned, near the Big Elm, scouts stood on vigilant guard against
wolves, bears and panthers that frequented the neighborhood.

Tue Fort Howarp E_mu

This elm occupies the site of the first permanent fortification in
Wisconsin, and represents two hundred years of the history of the
region under the rule, in turn, of France, Great Britain and the
United States. The date of the building of the first fort is unknown,
but was probably about 1718.

The history of this post was practically the history of the State
during the French regime. Around the fort were waged the Fox
Indian Wars. It was also a popular trading post, and was a centre
for the dishonest dealirig that led to the overthrow of French rule in
America.

The British, in 1761, occupied and rebuilt the post, christening
it Fort Edward Augustus. After Pontiac’s conspiracy in 1763, the
garrison was permanently withdrawn and not replaced until after the
War of 1812. In August, 1816, the United States occupied this
place with a strong garrison, and built the military post named Fort
Howard. This was almost continually garrisoned until 1852, when
the need for martial protection ceased. The garrison was at that time
removed, the land and buildings were sold, and but few reminders
are left of the historic importance of Fort Howard, save the old elm
tree. This stands just south of where stood the commanding officer's
quarters, which were occupied by several men noted in American
history. Probably the best known of the American commandants
was Major Zachary Taylor, who afterwards became President of the
United States.

Tue FRANKLIN ELM

New Haven, Conn., known as the “City of Elms,” possessed for
many years a fine specimen known as the Franklin Elm because it
chanced to be set out on April 17, 1790, the day that the great man
died. The story of the tree’s entry into the town where it has so long
been a famous landmark, is rather an unusual one.

Long before the days of Prohibition, Jerry Allen, whose home
was at Hamden, a few miles from New Haven, arrived in the latter

45

town, carrying the elm on his back. Having no money, with which
to purchase his favorite beverage, rum, he traded the young tree in
exchange for a pint, to Thaddeus Beecher, who kept a tavern where
the Exchange Building of New Haven now stands.

Beecher at once planted the tree on the village green or public
square, which had been allowed to remain exactly as it was laid out
in 1689. Serving in its early days, and at the time the elm was
planted, as a market, public pig-pen, and place for watering cattle,
the historic green is, today, in the centre of the busy city, with which
the tall, spreading elm has so long been identified.

Tue Kinesrort ELM

On Kingsport Farms, at Kingsport, Sullivan County, Tenn., is
a splendid old elm, with a spring issuing from its roots, in all proba-
bility the tree described by a party of Frenchmen who camped in the
neighborhood in 1790. It answers their description well, even to the
spring that bubbles up beneath it.

Its circumference, which is mentioned as being twenty-two feet,
has increased to twenty-five and one-half feet, and its age is estimated
at more than 400 years. Directly back of the old elm is the remains
of one of the first silk mills in the south, perhaps in the whole country.

THE OBERLIN ELM

The elm on the college campus at Oberlin, O., which has been
fenced about and marked with a bronze tablet, shaded the first log
house built in Oberlin. This was erected in 1833, and was the begin-
ning of Oberlin College, the first educational institution in the world
to admit women on an equal footing with men. Lucy Stone, one of
the pioneer suffragists, was a graduate of Oberlin.

THE WASHINGTON

One of the most famous trees in the whole country is this elm at
Cambridge, Mass., under whose “branches Washington took com-
mand of the Continental Army on July 8, 1875. It is thought to be
a survivor of the primeval forest that once covered the region, and
in its youth was nearly 100 feet in height, while the spread of its
branches measured 90 feet.

On Nov. 80, 1864, the City Council decreed that “the committee
on Public Property cause a suitable tablet of durable material, either
granite, marble or iron to be placed on the Washington Elm in Ward
1, said tablet to commemorate in conspicuous letters the Revolutionary
event which rendered said tree historical.”

A large branch fell from the elm in 1872, and was used to make
a pulpit in a chapel nearby. Since that time, the old tree has gradually
succumbed to the attacks of insects and though still standing, has lost
much of its original beauty.

46

THE FRYE ELM, 1725-1876

Courtesy of Miss E. Frye Barker

CHAPTER VIII

The Frye Elm—The Logan Elm—Old Elm Tree Corner—Elm of the
Colony of Transylvania—Daniel Boone’s Judgment Tree—Con-
stitutional Elm of Indiana—The Morse Elm—The Tappan Elm.

Tue Frye E_m

In 1725, Jonathan Frye, who had graduated from Harvard two
years before, left his home in North Andover, Mass., to serve under
Captain Lovewell, the famous Indian fighter. The party was bound
for the wilds of New Hampshire and Maine, and young Frye went
along as chaplain. Before going away, he planted an elm in front
of his uncle, Col. James Frye’s house at North Andover, charging
the family to take good care of it during his absence.

The tree lived to bear, for over one hundred and fifty years, a
family name of note, Jonathan being a connection of Elizabeth Frye
of England, the great prison reformer. He never returned to see his
elm, and his fate was never known, though easily surmised. He
received honorable mention in the story of the much famed battle with
the Indians at Pequawket, where, with other unfortunates, he was
left in the woods, badly wounded. The elm of his planting flourished,
and descendants of the Frye family have come from far to visit it.

The only pieces of the old elm known to be still in existence, are
a frame containing the original copy of the Frye Coat of Arms, owned
by Miss E. Frye Barker, of New York, historian of the family; and
the frame of the steel engraving from which the accompanying cut was
made. This engraving has been presented by Miss Barker to the
New England Historic Genealogical Society.

Tue Locan ELM

One of the valued landmarks of Pickaway County, O., is the
fine old tree about seven miles from Circleville, known as the Logan
Elm. Under its branches the Mingo Chief, whose name it bears,
made his famous speech which Thomas Jefferson later incorporated
in his “Notes On Virginia,” pronouncing it equal to any passage in
the writings of Demosthenes or Cicero.

Logan, one of whose names was Tah-gah-jute, meaning “short
dress,” was also christened in honor of James Logan, Penn’s Secre-
tary, who was a great friend of the Indian boy’s father, Skikellimus.
This chief was always friendly to the white men, entertaining the first
Moravian missionaries in the section of Pennsylvania about his home,
and conducting many negotiations between James Logan and the
native tribes.

Brought up in this peaceable atmosphere, his son followed in his
footsteps, earning the title of “Friend of the White Man”; it was

47

not till the last years of his life that he became hostile, and then only
in revenge for sorrow caused by the murder of his relatives.

He was living in Ohio at the time of “that bloody perlude to the
Revolution,” the Dunmore War, the purpose of which was to exterm-
inate the Indians of that region. The noted Chief, Cornstalk, aware
that hostilities had advanced too far to remain unnoticed, requested
that a council should be called, and as Lord Dunmore’s troops ap-
proached, a white man named Elliott was sent to meet them, carrying
a flag of truce. He asked for someone who could understand the
Indian language.

Colonel . J a Gibson returned with him to Camp Charlotte, on
Scippo Creek, and found Cornstalk waiting, in company with eight
other chiefs and five hundred warriors. Though probably desiring
peace, they had painted their faces half black and half red, to show
their indifference.

In spite of all persuasion, Logan, embittered by his losses, refused
to attend the council. According to Colonel Gibson’s sworn state-
ment, however, the chief met him, and they walked together into the
woods, and sat on a log under the old elm. Captain Williamson, one
of Dunmore’s soldiers, identified the tree as the exact spot where the
words were spoken which have become celebrated as “Logan’s
Speech.”

“I appeal to any white man to say if he ever entered Logan’s
cabin, hungry, and he gave them not meat; if he ever came cold and
naked, and he clothed him not? During the course of the last long
and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his camp, an advocate for
peace. Such was my love for the whites that my countrymen pointed
as I passed, and said, ‘Logan is the friend of the white man,’ I had
ever thought to have lived with you but for the injuries of one man.
Colonel Cresap, the last spring, in cold blood and unprovoked, mur-
dered all the relations of Logan, not even sparing my women and
children. There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any
living creature. This called on me for vengeance. I have sought it.
I have killed many. I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my
country I rejoice at the beams of peace; but don’t harbor a thought
that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear.

“He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Who is there to
mourn for Logan? Not one.”

On October 2, 1912, the old elm was presented by residents of
Pickaway County to the State of Ohio, to be cared for and preserved
as an historic relic.

_ The tree measures seven feet in circumference, and the spread
of its branches is one hundred and fifty feet. Specialists have put it
in fine condition, and it is protected by an iron railing, and bids fair
to remain for many a year to come, as a monument to the memory
of the Indian Chief, Logan, of whom it was said by his friend, Judge
Brown, “He was the best specimen of humanity, white or red, I have
ever encountered.”

48

Oup Erm Tree Corner

A tablet at the northwest corner of State and Pearl Streets,
Albany, N. Y., bears this inscription:

“Old Elm Tree Corner. So named from a tree planted here by
Philip Livingston about 1785. Removed 1877. Also the site upon
which were published Webster’s famous reading, spelling book and
almanac, and the first Albany newspaper, the Albany Gazette, 1771.”

A picture of the Old Elm hangs in the Albany Institute, Histor-
ical and Art Society Building.

The spot has also been. celebrated by W. D. Morange, in the

following lines:

“It don’t appear that the Old Elm Tree
Was a slippery elm, you know;

But nevertheless it will doubtless be
Set down in the records so.

When the snow congeals on the slanting grade,
Where the Elm Tree went to rot,

And scores of broken heads have made
Their mark on the sacred spot,

That place of broken skulis will be
By many a frantic mourner,

Set down in the town geography,
As the ‘Slippery Elm Tree Corner’.”

ELM oF THE COLONY OF TRANSYLVANIA

In the middle of the 18th century, Kentucky was an unknown
land to the white men. In 1760, John Finley and a few acquaint-
ances made their way into the unexplored territory, and brought back
with them glowing accounts of the beauties and fertility of the lands
there. Daniel Boone accompanied him on a second expedition, and on
returning, interested Colonel Richard Henderson, a young lawyer of
North Carolina, in the wonderful region beyond the mountains. Much
pleased with what he heard, Henderson conceived the idea of forming
the Transylvania Company, to purchase a large tract of the land, and
plant a colony of which he should be proprietor, selling titles to the
settlers.

Daniel Boone had been selected to cut through the wilderness a
highway over which emigration could pass to Transylvania, and on
March 10,1775, set out with about thirty men toward Cumberland
Gap, blazing the way on “mile-trees,” and following the course of the
“Warriors’ Path,” a famous Indian Trail between Virginia and Ken-
tucky, which near the Gap, formed a link in the great war path from
north to south.

On March 25, the little band camped at Silver Creek, where they
were attacked by Indians, who killed one of their number; but fifteen
miles further on, they reached the place previously selected by Boone
and Henderson for their new home. Here they camped, on a plain,
beautiful with white clover and Kentucky “blue grass.” Two springs

49

were nearby, and also four huge trees, three sycamores, and a great
elm with which Colonel Henderson was much impressed: He said,
“The diameter of its branches from the extreme ends is one hundred
feet, and every fair day it describes a semicircle on the heavenly green
around it, of upward of four hundred feet, and any time between the
hours of ten and two, one hundred persons may commodiously seat
themselves under its branches. This divine tree is to be our Church,
State House and Council Chamber.”

The convention of the “House of Delegates of the Colony of
Transylvania” did meet under the elm on the 23rd of May, 1775. It
was in session for three days, passing nine bills. “Henderson received
full possession of the land from the Cherokees,” as Boone’s bio-
grapher, Lucile Gulliver, tells us, “according to a pretty, ancient
custom. The lawyer representing the Indians, handed Henderson a
piece of Kentucky turf, and together they held it while the lawyer
declared the transaction completed.”

While in all probability, the old elm might well have survived up
to the present time, no historical association is on record as having
preserved it, or marked its site. It would have been a picturesque and
valued memorial of one of the most interesting sites of pioneer days.

DANIEL Boone’s JUDGMENT TREE

On June 11, 1800, Colonel Boone was appointed commandant
of the Femme Osage (Missouri) District.

* “Tt was about this time, or perhaps a little earlier, that he built
the cabin near the spring in the Femme Osage Valley and removed
his family there. The duties of his office were both civil and military,
and his decision in all cases was final, excepting those involving land
titles, which were referred to the crown or its immediate representa-
tive. Punishment for crime or misdemeanor was of the most summary
character. The accused, if proven guilty, was tied up and whipped,
the number of lashes being proportioned to the nature of his offense.
A hickory sapling that stood in the yard near the spring served as a
whipping post. That kind of punishment met the requirement of the
age, and no thief or breaker of the law was ever known to resent a
judgment rendered by Daniel Boone. He held his court under the
spreading branches of a large elm tree, which still stands on the bank
a few feet above the spring and is known as “Daniel Boone’s Judg-
ment Tree.”

CONSTITUTIONAL ELM oF INDIANA

Under the spreading boughs of an elm at Corydon, first capital
of Indiana, the Constitution of that State was adopted, nearly a
century ago.

* Extract from article by William 8. Bryan in the Missouri Historical Review.
50

“When Benjamin Douglass was the State Entomologist in
1910,” says EK. M. Herschell, “he sent men from his office to Corydon,
and the cavities in the historic tree were cleaned and then filled with
concrete, much as a dentist fills a decayed tooth. The result of this
treatment has been that the constitutional elm has taken on new vigor
and prohably will live through generations to tell its story of the
pioneer upbuilding of a great state. Corydon’s other historic treas-
ure, Indiana’s first capitol, still is in a good state of preservation.

An effort has been made to give the Statehouse Grounds in Indi-
anapolis historic setting with trees, but the plan has not proved
successful because of the apparent refusal of trees to grow in the
Statehouse Yard. Shortly after the present state capitol was occupied
it became a custom of the Governors to plant a tree representative of
their administration. These trees, mostly maples, have been scattered
over the grounds, but it is a sad fact that only a few have survived.”

Tuer Morse Ei_m

One of the first trees to be given a place in the Hall of Fame for
Trees of the American Forestry Association, was the famous Morse
Elm of Washington, D. C. Standing at the corner of Pennsylvania
Avenue and Fourteenth Street, it has looked down upon every inaug-
ural parade held in the national capital, and was one of the city’s
oldest landmarks, though owing to decay, it has been removed.

The tree was named for Samuel F. B. Morse, who often sat
beneath it, talking to interested listeners of his wonderful invention,
the telegraph. Groups of politicians were also to be seen discussing
affairs of State in its shade.

When the Morse Elm was felled, its trunk was presented to the
American Forestry Association.

Tur Tappan Exim

At Tappan, N. Y., near the quaint little house that served as
Washington’s headquarters, stands an elm that is associated with
Revolutionary days. When, in 1783, arrangements were made for
the evacuation of New York by the British, and the exchange of
prisoners, a small tar barrel was hoisted up on a limb of the tree and
set on fire, as a signal that the much desired end had been accomp-
lished. It is said that the flames were visible on Manhattan Island,
about twenty miles away. The De Wint house, a residence close by
the elm, is believed to have been the meeting-place, where the papers
necessary to the transaction were drawn up.

Only a few blocks north of the old tree stands the “ ’76 House,”
where Major André was imprisoned just before his execution, and
the old Dutch Reformed Church where his trial took place. The
monument erected to his memory is in the town of Tappan.

51

CHAPTER IX

The Roosevelt Sugar Maple—The Sugar Maple and the Indians—
Early Mention of the Sugar Maple—The Sugar Maple and the
Abolitionists.

Tre RoosEvELT SuGAR MAPLE

A splendid sugar maple, in the Glenview Forest Reserve, five
miles due west of Evanston, Illinois, was during the year 1820 chris-
tened in honor of Theodore Roosevelt.

It stands in a region of “virgin timber,” forest land on which
no living tree has ever been felled, and is the senior, by several hundred
years, of its comrades, though all around it stand maples and oaks
that are in the neighborhood of five hundred years old. According
to prominent botanists, the age of the Roosevelt Tree may be safely
estimated at one thousand years. Other tree experts say that it is at
least not younger than seven hundred years. Its trunk measures nine
feet, at breast height, and shows a clean bole up to fifty feet above
the ground. Growing in dense timber, it is, of course, slim for its
height. This tree, which will doubtless live to acquire fame, both on
account of its title and its great age, is a worthy representative of the
sugar maples of America, trees that are distinctively characteristic
of this country, and that have played an important part in the every-
day life of its early settlements.

Tur SuGAR MAPLE AND THE INDIANS

It has been said that “If trees had human characteristics, the
sugar maple would be the banker of the forest community because of
its store of wealth. It is a conservative, dignified, well-dressed tree,
conscientious, hardworking and dependable.” The Indians appre-
ciated its usefulness, and taught the earliest white pioneers on the
shores of the Hudson, and in New England and the Middle States,
to extract the sugar. They probably relied upon it for their entire
supply of sweetening. It was also found possible to produce the flow
by applying heat, and so procure sugar needed in case of sickness.

According to Baron de la Hontan, who traveled in America from
1684 to 1695, the “liquor is drawn by cutting the tree two inches deep
in the wood, the cut being run sloping to the length of ten or twelve
inches . . . . a knife is run into the tree slopingly, so that the water
running along the cut or gash as through a gutter, and falling upon
the knife that lies across the channel, runs out upon the knife which
has vessels plac’d underneath to receive it. The gash do’s no harm
to the tree. Of this sap they make sugar and syrup which is so
valuable that there can’t be a better remedy for fortifying the

52

stomach.” The Baron also considered that the maple sap possessed
“a much pleasanter taste than the best lemonade or cherry-water.”

The sap was collected into troughs, by the squaws, and hot stones
were plunged into it, and this process was continued until the sugar
had boiled down to the desired consistency. The Baron saw two
kinds of maples tapped; the black or hard, and the white or soft
maple; “the former makes infinitely the best grained and flavored
sugar, and fully equal in quality to the best Muscovado.”

The Indians mixed maple sugar with melted bear’s fat and made
sauce for their roast venison; they used it to sweeten boiled corn, and
the parched corn which they carried with them on journeys. The
Iroquois Indians called the Algonkians “ratirontaks,” “tree-eaters,”
on account of their fondness for sugar. There is an Algonkian legend
that explains why maple sap runs so thin instead of being thick like
syrup as it was originally.

One day, Nokomis, the grandmother of Manabush, was roaming
through the forest, and by accident cut the bark of a tree. Seeing
a rich syrup flow slowly from the wound, she tasted it, and delighted
at finding it so delicious, gave some to Manabush. He also was much
pleased with the new sweet-meat, but felt afraid that if the women of
the tribe found the syrup could be obtained so easily, all ready-made
as it were, they would become idle. So, in order to keep his aunts
busy, he diluted the sap, making it thin, as we know it, by pouring
water over the tops of the trees. This is why the women must boil
down the sap to make syrup.

Harty MENTION OF THE SuGAR MAPLE

One of the earliest references to maple sugar appears in an issue
of the “Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society,” (England),
published in 1684, “‘an account of a sort of sugar made of the juice of
the maple in Canada.” ‘The writer tells us that “The savages of
Canada, in the time that the sap rises in the maple, make an incision
in the tree by which it runs out; and after they have evaporated eight
pounds of the liquor there remains one pound as sweet and as much
sugar as that which is got out of the canes. The savages here have
practised this art longer than any now living among them can
remember.”

Lambert’s “Travels Through Canada. and the United States,”
published in 1818, mentions maple sugar (evidently one of the novel-
ties of the New World), as being very hard and requiring to be
“scraped with a knife when used for tea, otherwise the lump would
be a considerable time in dissolving.” Its flavor reminded the author
of the candied horehound sold in England, and he added that the
Canadians ate large lumps of the sugar believing it to act medicinally.
“It very likely acts as a corrective to the vast quantity of fat pork
which they consume, as it possesses a greater degree of acidity than
the West India sugar. Before salt was in use, sugar was eaten with

53

meat in order to correct its putrescencey ; hence, probably, the custom
of eating sweet apple sauce with pork and goose, and currant jelly
with hare and venison.”

Among the many plant specimens sent from the New World by
the famous botanist, John Bartram, to Peter Collinson, of London,
England, were seeds of the sugar maple, which occasioned much com-
ment, the tree being practically unknown in England. Collinson had
already written to his “Kind Friend John Bartram,” (in 1735):

“I am mightily pleased with thy account of the Sugar Tree.
Pray send me a little sprig, with two or three leaves dried between
a sheet of paper, and if thee canst, the blossom. We imagine, here it
is a poplar or maple, but when we see the flowers or seed-vessel, we
shall soon determine.” Six months later, having received the speci-
mens he wanted, he wrote to Bartram again:

“The leaves of the Sugar Tree are very informing, and are a
great curiosity; but we wish thee had gathered little branches with
the flowers on them and some little branches with the keys on them.
The seeds of this tree (which, by the leaves and keys is a real Maple),
I cracked a many of them, and not one has a kernel in them, which
I am surprised at. We must desire thee, next year, to make another
attempt and send us some specimens. Its bearing white blossoms is
an elegance above any other of this tribe that I know of.”

THE Sucar Maple AND THE ABOLITIONISTS

One does not naturally associate the sugar maple with anti-
slavery agitation, and yet the hopes of earnest abolitionists, one hun-
dred and twenty-five or more years ago, were centered in this tree.
As it would yield so easily and naturally such quantities of sugar, there
seemed no further need for importing this necessary article from the
West Indies, where it was produced from cane by the hard labor of
Tai nor for allowing such a condition to continue in the United

tates.

Monsieur J. P. Brissot, who published in 1788, an account of his
travels in America, was evidently much impressed with the idea. He
writes as follows: “Providence, my friend, seems to have placed in
the bosom of the continent that slavery has sullied and tormented most
cruelly, two great means which ought, inevitably, to work its destruc-
tion, that, is the society of which I have spoken to you, and the Sugar
Maple. ... The settlers established in the middle of forests in
America, limit themselves, hitherto, to a very slight manipulation to
get this sugar . . . but since the quakers have perceived in this tree a
means of destroying the slave trade, since to replace the cane sugar
they have felt the necessity of perfectioning the Sugar Maple, more
attention has been given to the manipulation, and success has crowned
their efforts. You know, my friend, all the conditions that are neces-
sary to be united for the cultivation of the sugar cane . . . the enemies
and accidents that that plant fears (is subject to), the labor, its culti-

54

vation, its preparation, and its fabric costs to the unfortunate Afri-
cans. Well! Compare these inconveniences with the advantages that
the Sugar Maple presents, and you will again, once more, be con-
vinced what great pains we often take to be uselessly criminal... .
I wish there were formed from north to south a holy coalition to
accumulate the produce of that Divine Tree, if above all, it were
looked upon as an impiety to destroy so useful a tree, either for burn-
ing or clearing lands; America might not only furnish for its own
use, but might also inundate the markets of Europe with a sugar,
whose cheapness would, in time, annihilate that sugar which is
sprinkled with the tears and blood of slaves, for the Maple Sugar
does not cost but three-pence the pound.”

The trees were abundant; the celebrated Dr. Rush, of Philadel-
phia, writing as late as 1798, to Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of the
United States, (who permitted only maple sugar used in his house-
hold, and planted maples on his estate in Virginia, for the purpose of
producing it), describes them as covering “five or six acres in a body,
more often mixed with other trees.” Generally, there averaged from
thirty to fifty sugar maples on an acre, and residents of Pennsylvania
are recorded, as making from two hundred to four hundred pounds
of sugar per year.

Dr. Rush considered maple sugar an extremely healthy article of
diet, and thought that its use might lessen malignant fevers. He
quotes Sir John Pringle as remarking that the plague had never been
known in any country where sugar was eaten in considerable quanti-
ties. However, there had hitherto been the insuperable difficulty—
ey persons refuse to be benefited, even indirectly, by the labour of
slaves.”

“TI cannot help contemplating a Sugar Maple with a species of
affection and even veneration, for I have persuaded myself to behold
in it the happy means of rendering the commerce and slavery of our
African brethren in the sugar islands, as unnecessary as it has always
been inhuman and unjust.”

Tench Coxe, of Philadelphia, Penn., author of “A View of the
United States” (published in 1794), says that the total consumption
of sugar and molasses in this country at that time amounted to twenty-
six million pounds, and that “every farmer having one hundred acres
of maple sugar land in a state of ordinary American improvement

. can make one thousand pounds weight of sugar with only his
necessary farming and kitchen utensils.”

55

CHAPTER X

Memorial Trees of Spiegel Grove—Lincoln Memorial Tree—Gingko
Tree at Grant’s Tomb—Elms Planted by Royalty—Plantings by
President and Mrs. Harding—Lincoin Memorial Grounds—Bur-
roughs Memorial Forest—Tree to Theodore Roosevelt—Tree to
Quentin Roosevelt-—Unusual Alumnae Avenue—National Farm
School—Memorial Trees of Philadelphia—Tree to “Humanity
Martin”—New York State Memorial Highway.

Historic TREES IN THE MAKING

The idea of the tree as one of the most acceptable memorials has
developed into the widespread custom of commemorative tree plant-
ing. Such memorials may be appropriately described as historic trees
in the making. Those planted today, to quote from American For-
estry, “will be famous fifty years from now and even more famous

in a hundred years.”
MemoriAL TREES OF SPIEGEL GROVE

Spiegel Grove, Fremont, O., the home of President Rutherford
B. Hayes, contains a rare. collection of memorial trees, and is, itself,
historic ground. It is situated in the old Indian reservation which,
long before the Revolution, was established at the lower rapids of
the Sandusky River. The Harrison Military Trail of the War of
1812, the old French and Indian route from Lake Erie to the Ohio,
runs through the grove for half a mile, and the deep ruts made by
General Harrison’s wagon wheels are said to be still visible.

The grove occupies part of the site of the free city of the Indian
tribe of the Eries, who, three hundred years ago, erected two fortified
towns opposite each other, at this point, on the Sandusky. During
Revolutionary days, Daniel Boone and Simon Kenton were led pris-
oners through the grove, along the old trail, which long before their
day, had been trodden by French explorers and missionaries, and
which is said to have been the route traveled by more Indian captives
than any other trail.

A number of the trees growing in this historic grove bear the
names of Mr. Hayes’ distinguished guests. Five immense oaks, under
whose shade a table was spread on the occasion of the annual reunion
of the 23rd regiment, September 14, 1877, were christened in honor
of General Sheridan and four colonels of the regiment, who sat at
the table. Other speakers of the day returned in later years, and
their memory is similarly perpetuated, as shown by the naming of
the McKinley oaks, the Chief Justice White oak, and the Garfield
maple. On General Sherman’s return from escorting Mr. Hayes and
his party to the Pacific Coast, a particularly fine elm was given his
name. ,

56

ROOSEVELT TREE

, Near Chicago, thought to be Zoo Years old.
f the Chicago American.

Courtesy o

Immense Sugar Maple

Other trees of interest in the grove are two oaks that have sprung
from acorns of the famous Charter Oak of Connecticut, also tulip
trees from James Madison’s home in Virginia and the Cleveland
hickory. It is related that Chief Justice of the United States
Supreme Court William H. Taft was a guest at the grove when about
to begin his campaign of 1908; he was requested to select his tree;
laying his hand upon one of the finest oaks on the place, he remarked
“This is about my size.”

“Grandfather’s Oak,” standing close by the trail, where the
ground bore, for many years, the deep print of “tramping moccasins,”
earned its fame through the incident of Mrs. Hayes’ grandfather hay-
ing camped beneath it during the War of 1812. Scars made by his
camp-fire are still visible on its trunk.

The Lucy Hayes Chapel, named in her honor, was outlined in
young walnut trees by Mr. Hayes, in a field bordering the Grove.
It possessed “nave, transept and tower,” and as he was accustomed
to say, it was a chapel that “would be worth looking at two hundred
years hence.”

Linconn MEemoriAL TREE

On April 27, 1865, the day appointed by Governor Stone, of
Iowa, as a day of mourning for President Lincoln, John Fine, of
Decorah, Ia., dug up a hackberry shoot and transplanted it to the
ground in front of his house. It has developed into one of the finest
trees in the State, and is nearly one hundred and ten feet high and
twelve feet in circumference. It is one of the few hackberries that
has attained to any measure of note.

GincKo TREE AT GRANT’s TOMB

In 1897, a gingko, or Chinese Maiden-hair tree, sent by Li Hung
Chang, was planted at Grant’s tomb, on Riverside Drive, New York
City. It is marked by a bronze tablet, bearing the following in-
scription:

“This tree is planted by the side of the tomb of General U. S.
Grant, ex-President of the United States of America, for the pur-
pose of commemorating his greatness, by Li Hung Chang, Guardian
of the Prince, Grand Secretary of State, Earl of the First Order
Yong Hu, Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of
China, Vice-President of the Board of Censors. Kwang Hsu, 28rd
year, 4th moon, May, 1897.”

Exims PLANTED By Roya.ty

The visit of the Prince of Wales to America in 1920, is commem-
orated by an English Elm which he planted in Central Park, New
York City, one hundred feet from the spot where his grandfather,
Edward VII of England, planted an American Elm, half a century
earlier. The Prince was welcomed on this recent occasion by Charles

57

Lathrop Peck, President of the American Forestry Association, and
Dr. George F. Kunz, President of the American Scenic and Historic

Preservation Society.
PLANTINGS BY PRESIDENT AND Mrs. Harpine

In memory of all the animals who Jost their lives in the World
War, an elm was planted by President and Mrs. Harding, on October
17, 1821, on the White House grounds just south of the east entrance
to the house. This elm bears the distinction of being the first tree
planted as a memorial to our animal friends. It is five years of age, and
fifteen feet in height, and will be marked with a copper star, the
marker used by the American Animal Red Star Relief Association.
The ceremony took place in the presence of about one hundred spec-
tators, among whom were Mrs. Wilson Groshans, of Illinois, who
originated the idea of such a Memorial, and Mr. James P. Briggs,
President of the Humane E:\ducation Society of Washington, D. C.

Lincoun MEemoriAL GROUNDS

The opening of Armistice Week was marked by the planting, on
November 7, 1821, of two American Elms on the Lincoln Memorial
Grounds at Washington, D.C. The trees, one of which was planted
for the allied armies, the other for the allied navies, were dedicated
by Charles Lathrop Peck, President of the American Forestry Asso-
ciation. They were placed at the head of the prospective avenue of
memorial trees to be planted by various governments.

Mrs. Harding presented her tree planting trowel to members of
the American Legion, who planned to use it in Chicago on Armistice
Day at the opening of a Road of Remembrance, which will be several
miles in length.

Burroucus Mremoriau Forest

The boys of the Raymond Riordon School Conservation Unit,
under the Conservation Commission of the State of New York, have
finished planting the first section of the Burroughs State Memorial
Forest on Rose Mountain, New York. In memory of the famous
naturalist, the hill is to be rechristened Burroughs Mountain, and the
forest, largely composed of evergreens, is to be planted and cared
for by the boys of the State.

TREE TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT

On Theodore Roosevelt’s sixty-second birthday, a white oak was
planted in memory of him, near his grave at Oyster Bay. The cere-
mony was arranged by the New York Bird and Tree Club, of which
club the Colonel was a member, and the first shovelful of earth was
thrown upon the roots of the tree by Mrs. Thomas Edison in behalf
of her husband. This planting is thought to have launched the move-
ment for commemorating Col. Roosevelt in this way all over the
country.

58

TREE TO QUENTIN ROOSEVELT

At the Force School, Washington, D. C., a tree perpetuating
the memory of Lieutenant Quentin Roosevelt, a former pupil there,
is looked after by the children. A committee has been formed, consist-
ing of one child from each class, whose duty it is to care for the tree.
Each member has the privilege of choosing his successor, when passing
to a higher class. This plan has found favor in a number of other
schools, and should be facies developed by making systematic pro-
vision for the protection of trees wherever situated.

An UnusuaL ALUMNAE AVENUE

Mt. St. Joseph College of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, Penn.,
has instituted a new departure in alumnz memorial planting. In
November, 1921, an avenue of oaks was dedicated, leading from the
bank of the romantic. Wissahickon Creek, which forms the boundary
of the convent grounds, to the door of the new college. About four-
teen of the trees have been planted, the beginning of the stately avenue,
which in time to come will develop into a walk of rare beauty.
Memories of interest to friends and pupils of the college will cluster
about it, as each oak will be marked with the name of one of the
alumne.

Nationat F'arm ScHOOL

The National Farm School, also near Philadelphia, Penn.,
possesses a grove of trees commemorating war heroes and friends of
the school.

A novel feature has been added to the grove in the naming of
Festive Trees in honor of birthdays, confirmations, betrothals and
wedding anniversaries of those associated with the institution.

Memoria Trees oF PHILADELPHIA

Humanitarians of Philadelphia, Penn., have on several occasions
celebrated Arbor Day by unique tree-plantings to commemorate
events of national or local interest.

In 1916, a horse-chestnut was planted in Washington Square, in
honor of the first general observance of Humane Week in Pennsyl-
vania. 1917 saw the planting of three oriental planes, in the yard of
the Wharton Public School, in honor of three citizens, women who
were co-workers with Henry Bergh, and with him pioneers in the
Anti-Cruelty Movement. The women thus commemorated were Mrs.
Caroline Earle White, Miss Adele Biddle and Mrs. Annie L. Lowry.

On Arbor Day in the spring of 1918, a sycamore was planted on
the new parkway, by the American Anti-Vivisection Society and the
Animal Rescue League, of Philadelphia, in honor of the Third
Liberty Loan. This occasion is memorable as the first tree-
planting in the commonwealth attended by the United States troops

59

in uniform. Governor Brumbaugh, of Pennsylvania, cast the first
shovelful of earth, and Miss Leta Sullivan, a member of one of Phil-
adelphia’s most prominent families, selected on this occasion as being
a member of both the societies in charge, raised the flag in signal for
the military salute.

One year later, an elm, his favorite tree, was planted by the same
Societies, in memory of Joyce Kilmer, the soldier-poet, whose ex-
quisite verses entitled “Trees” should be familiar to every lover of
nature. The ceremony took place in historic Logan Square, where
the Sanitary Commission Fair was held during the Civil War.

TREES
By Joyce Kilmer.

“JT think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.

“A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.”

On the fall Arbor Day of 1920, (it being the custom in Pennsyl-
vania to observe this day twice a year, in spring and autumn), Ritten-
house Square was the scene of a triple planting in honor of humane
workers well known and well beloved throughout the city, Miss
Katharine C. Biddle, First President of the Animal Rescue League; .
Mrs. Albert Hoffman, (formerly Miss Leta Sullivan), and Mrs.
Emeline Reed Bedell. To each was assigned the tree known to have
been her favorite. To Miss Biddle, a horse-chestnut; to Mrs. Hoff-
man, a black walnut; and to Mrs. Bedell, a hickory.

TreEs To “Humanity” Martin AND JACK LONDON

The year 1922 marks the centennary of the first law passed in
any country for the protection of animals. It was placed upon the
statute books of England, (after a decade of opposition) thanks to
the efforts of Richard Martin, an Irish member of the House of
Commons.

The Centennial Anniversary of this epoch marking piece of
legislation was fittingly commemorated on April 28th in Philadel-
phia, Pa., when humanitarians from all parts of the city gathered in
the Muncipal Court Gardens to witness the planting of twin oaks
presented by Judge Brown of that court.

60

Noted for rugged strength and enduring usefulness, oak trees
form the most appropriate memorials of the two reformers thus hon-
ored, Richard Martin and Jack London, whose splendid crusade
against the exhibition of performing animals is well known.

Martin succeeded where his predecessors had failed, in a fashion
peculiarly his own. In that memorable session of Parliament of 1822,
he proved himself a man who could stand his ground in the midst of
ridicule, and handle a difficult situation with ease.

To quote from Margaret M. Halvey, “Richard Martin knew and
acted upon the knowledge that those who are cruel are always
cowards; and so when his hearers . . . greeted the “Anti-Cruelty
Bill” with cat-calls and howls of derision, Martin held his peace
throughout the uproar and then announced that he would personally
chastise every man who had insulted him on the floor of the House
and who wished now to give his name as willing to repeat the insult!

It is significant that not a single voice was raised in reply and the
bill passed its second reading in absolute quiet! Following this occur-
rence, King George IV of England, who knew Martin personally,
named him “Humanity” Martin, as he is still called in the annals of
the day.”

Certificates have been issued by the American Forestry Associa~
tion to the Societies which inaugurated this beautiful custom in the
City of Brotherly Love.

New York State MemoriaL Highway

The Memorial Highway extending from New York City to
Buftalo, N. Y., will be planted with two thousand elm trees, during
the spring of 1922, in honor of soldiers of the State who gave their
lives in the World War. The College of Forestry of Syracuse Uni-
versity, New York, will furnish the trees for the first ten miles of
the avenue.

“This is a move in the right direction,” writes the Editor of the
New York Evening Sun. “There is an urgent need in this country
for the beautifying of the roads. Americans who visit France and
other European nations are invariably struck by the splendid high-
ways, to which the unending rows of splendid trees add such distine-
tion and charm. On the other hand, European travelers in the United
States can hardly avoid a feeling that our roads too often are designed
only to facilitate transportation and add nothing to the beauty of the
landscape.”

61

CHAPTER XI

White Willows in Pennsylvania—Pope’s Willow—Napoleon Willows—
The Inwood Tulip Tree—The Stockton Catalpas—Hamilton’s
Trees—The Treaty Tree of Grosse Ile—The Osage Orange.

Wuitre WILLOWS IN PENNSYLVANIA

Benjamin Franklin has left us an interesting account of the
introduction into Pennsylvania of the white willow, a handsome
foreign tree which has now become naturalized.

Noticing a sprout on a willow basket that had been taken from
a ship docking at a wharf on the Delaware, at Philadelphia, he gave
the twig to Debby Norris, who planted it on her father’s estate, Fair-
hill, near the city. It took kindly to the new environment, and became
the progenitor of the white willows which are now so numerous.

Porr’s WILLOW

The introduction of the weeping willow, originally an oriental
tree, first into England and thence into America, forms an interesting
bit of history.

A box of figs from Smyrna was sent to Lady Suffolk, of London,
and her friend, Alexander Pope, who happened to be present, noticed
an unfamiliar, green twig bound about the package. “This is some-
thing we are not accustomed to here,” he said. “I will plant it in the
garden of my home on the Thames and see what it.produces.” So the
twig found its way to the grounds of his villa at Twickenham, Eng-
land, and a graceful weeping willow was the result.

Long afterward, a British officer, starting for America during
the Revolutionary War, took a shoot from the tree, intending to
transplant it to the estate he expected to receive there when the Royal
Arms should have won success. When the war terminated differently
from his expectation, he presented the twig to John Park Custis,
Washington’s step-son, who planted it on his estate, in Virginia.

In 1790, General Gates transferred a shoot from it to his farm
on Manhattan Island, N. Y., where it flourished and became known
as “Gates’ weeping willow tree.” As New York City spread and
business crept up to the site of his farm at Third Avenue and 22nd
Street, the tree, well advanced in years, was felled in 1860.

A similar fate overtook the parent tree, Pope’s willow, at Twicken-
ham, which was cut down by a subsequent owner of the property
because he was annoyed by the number of visitors, who came to admire
it and carry away bits of wood as souvenirs.

62

WILLOWS ON LAKE MENDOTA, MADISON, WIS.

Grown from cuttings of willows at Napoleon’s grave, St. Helena.
Photo by L. W. Brown, Madison, Wis.

NAPOLEON WILLOWS

Other weeping willows have been grown in America from cut-
tings taken from a tree of that species which shaded Napoleon’s grave
on St. Helena. It was his custom to sit beneath a weeping willow
there, perhaps brooding over his misfortunes, and oddly enough, the
tree was destroyed by a storm, about the time of his death. Madame
Bertrand, a close friend, planted several cuttings from the willow
beside the railing surrounding his tomb, and slips from these trees
have been brought from time to time, to this country.

One of the descendants of the Napoleon willows which, for nearly
half a century has beautified the Phillips estate in Newark, N. J., has
been described by Mr. Carl Bannwart as “the archbishop of this green
diocese of Phillips Park.” The tree was brought to John Morris
Phillips, owner of the estate, which he has presented to Newark as
a city park, by a friend, who cut it from one of the original trees on
St. Helena, knowing Mr. Phillips’ fondness both for trees and for
any relics associated with Napoleon. Unfortunately, the historic
willow shows signs of decay, and has so far failed to respond to the
efforts of tree surgeons.

Another Napoleon willow was brought from St. Helena, about
seventy years ago, by the late John T. Brown, of Providence, R. I.
When the tree was well grown, he gave a slip from it to a relative in
Wisconsin, and later transplanted back to Providence a slip from the
Wisconsin tree, which had become strong and sturdy. This great-
grandchild of the willow on St. Helena is now flourishing in Provi-
dence, and a cutting from it has been planted in Swan Point cemetery
there.

On the shore of Lake Mendota, Madison, Wis., near the foot of
North Livingston Street, is a row of handsome willows grown from
cuttings that were brought by a sea captain from the grave of
Napoleon on St. Helena.

Tue Inwoop Tuip TREE

The fine old tulip tree at the eastern base of Inwood Hill, on the
northern end of Manhattan Island, is considered Manhattan’s oldest
tree. As its age is estimated to be two hundred and twenty-five years,
it was in its youth when Henry Hudson made his memorable voyage
of discovery on the river, and during the eventful years that followed,
the tree was a silent witness of many interesting developments.

Standing on the shore of Spuyten Duyvil Creek, it recalls, among
other incidents, the lively career of Anthony Van Corlaer, the trump-
eter, a noted character of the days of Dutch occupation, when his
friend, Peter Stuyvesant, was Governor of New Netherlands before
the English had changed the name of the province to New York. It
was owing to Van Corlaer’s escapades, according to the old legends
of the region, that both Anthony’s Nose, a bluff in the Highlands of
the Hudson, and also Spuyten Duyvil Creek received their names. As

63

he was attempting to cross the creek one stormy night, when on a
political mission, friends tried to dissuade him from the dangerous
undertaking, but nothing daunted, Anthony insisted as he waded into
the turbulent waters, that cross he would, ‘en spuyt den duyvil”
Promptly, the “duyvil” appeared, in the form of a huge monster, and
disappeared with the luckless trumpeter beneath the waves. But it is
said that blasts from the latter’s trumpet can still be heard arising
from the creek on stormy nights.

The city’s Park Department has preserved the ancient tree, filling
its cavities with cement, and protecting it with an iron railing. On the
surface of one of the cement fillings is the following inscription in
gold letters: “Tulip Tree, Liriodendron tulipifera. Circumference
19 feet. Age 225 years. Henry Hudson entered this inlet in 1609
and may have met the Indians here who used the place for a camp, as
shown by the quantity of old broken oyster shells around this tree and
near by.”

Tre STOCKTON CATALPAS

The fine avenue of catalpas shading the lawn of the Inn at
Princeton, N. J., are a memorial to Richard Stockton, the well known
“signer” of the Declaration of Independence, who is thought to have
brought the trees from England in 1762. The grounds were a part
of Stockton’s estate, Morven. His old house, still standing, was a
favorite meeting-place for the patriots of those days.

“For more than one hundred years,” says John Frelinghuysen
Hageman, in his “History of Princeton and Its Institutions,” ”’These
ancient witnesses have borne testimony to the taste and unselfish
instincts of this noble man. This long row of catalpas in front of
Morven can only be viewed as a sacred memorial to the signer of the
Declaration. The fourth day of July is the great day in Mr. Stock-
ton’s calendar, as it is in that of our country, and these catalpas, with
the undeviating certainty of the seasons, put on their pure white
blooming costume every Fourth of July. And for this reason they
have been called, very fitly, in this country the “Independence Tree.”

HaMItton’s TREES

Following the Constitutional Convention, which met in Philadel-
phia, Penn., in 1787, the first Secretary of the Treasury planted
thirteen sweet gum trees on the grounds of his home, Hamilton
Grange, in New York City, to commemorate the entrance of the
thirteen original States into the new Federal Union.

For many years the trees survived him, and a few remained as
late as 1911, but then were removed to make way for building opera-
tions. ‘The same fate befell the three tall sycamores at 140th Street
and Hamilton Place, said to be the trees under which the seconds
met, just before the duel between Hamilton and Burr, which resulted -
so disastrously for the former.

64

One cannot help echoing, regretfully the words of Mrs. J. J.
Wilder, President of the Georgia Society of the Colonial Dames of
America, “If our patriotic societies had been founded earlier, how
much might have been saved. .. .”

The late Professor Lucien M. Underwood, a director of the New
York Botanical Garden, in a lecture delivered in 1902, told of the
amusing misstatements made about the sweet gum trees by a number
of newspapers and magazines, which described them variously, as
oaks, maples and elms; one of Hamilton’s grandsons insisting that
they were lime trees, brought from Washington’s home at Mt.
Vernon.

As Professor Underwood’ states, however, the trees were “not
oaks and not maples and not elms and not limes (or lindens) but plain
straightforward examples of sweet gum (Liquid Amber) a tree not
uncommon in the native forests about New York, and yet one whose
corky-winged twigs are sometimes sold on the city streets as ‘rare

2? 99

alligator-wood from the tropics’.

Tue Treaty Tree or Grosst ILE

The magnificient old basswood or linden tree of Grosse Lle,
Mich., the largest of the group of islands at the mouth of the Detroit
River, was witness of an important transaction, two days after the
signing of the Declaration of Independence.

The island had long been a place of historic note. It was the
home of the Potawatamie nation, and while Chief Pontiac besieged
Detroit, afforded a camping ground for the Hurons. Other Indians,
also made it their headquarters when attacking the boats that came
from Niagara to relieve the garrison in a state of siege nearby. Grosse
le was situated on the trade route connecting Albany, Detriot and
Macinac and frequented by white fur-traders and Indians. Cadillac
considered it as the site of the city of Detroit, Mich., but abandoned
the idea, fearing there was not sufficient timber. In1707, he deeded
the island to his daughter.

The old linden had flung its shade over many a negotiation be-
tween the whites and the red men. Under its branches, on July 6,
1776, a treaty was signed, conveying the island to two merchants of
Detroit, Alexander and William Macomb, who purchased it for a
little money, blankets and tobacco. It was of great importance that
the island should pass into American ownership, otherwise, “division
of the waters of the great Detroit River might have been changed.”

Several Indian tribes were represented on this solemn occasion,
the Fox and Saes tribes, the Kikapoos and Potawatamies all being
mentioned. The chiefs signed the agreement by drawing their totems
on the deed, a fish, bear, wild cat, doe, deer, fawn with one leg, etc.
One of these totems is the first sketch of the American eagle known to
exist anywhere. The chief’s eldest sons, not yet warriors, signed by
making their thumb-prints. Tecumseh, “the torch of the North
West” was one of the chiefs who signed the document.

65

On June 1, 1811, the United States Government ratified the
treaty, President James Madison granting by patent the land to John
W., William and David Macomb, heirs of William. On July 3, 1901,
the old Treaty Tree fell, the victim of a severe storm. Like many
another veteran, it is represented by a younger generation, a sapling
having sprung from its roots.

In 1906, on the 180th anniversary of the purchase of the island,
the Woman’s Improvement Association of Grosse Ile, marked the
site of the old tree with a bronze tablet placed upon a large boulder.
During the ceremony, the tablet was unveiled by a direct descendant
of the Macombs. The inscription reads as follows:

“This stone marks the location of the Treaty Tree and com-
memorates the conveyance by treaty of Grosse Ile (known to the
Indians as Kitche-Minishon) and the adjacent islands to William
and Alexander Macomb by the Potawatamie Indians. The treaty
was signed by eighteen of the chiefs of the Potawatamie nation of
Indians.

The events of the past shape the pathway of the future.

Erected by the Woman’s Improvement Association of Grosse
Tle, 1906. The dee is recorded in the register of Detroit, No. 2,
Vol 6. p. 19.”

-

TuE OsaGE ORANGE OF NEw Harmony

In 1824, the Rappite community of New Harmony, Ind., was
purchased by Robert Owen, a believer in the community system, and
William Machen of Philadelphia, Pa., a noted geologist. Under their
leadership, New Harmony “soon became the mecca of scientists, a
settlement which indeed, failed to realize the hopes of its founder,
yet which served to awaken that scientific spirit which has never died
out in Indiana.”

A tree which still flourishes, commemorating the palmy days of
the community, is the Osage Orange, planted there in 1826, by
Thomas Say, the naturalist. Nuthall, the botanist, named it “Maclura
aurantiaca” in honor of Maclure.

Today, its trunk measures eleven and one-half feet around,
branching six feet from the ground.

66

CHAPTER XII

Bartram’s Cypress—The Cypress of New Bern—The Cypress of
Painters’ Arboretum—The Elgin Yews—The Haddon Yews.

Bartram’ Cypress

Until the early summer of 1920, when a severe storm laid it low,
one of the chief objects of interest in Bartram’s Garden, Philadelphia,
Penn., was his famous cypress, which he brought as a sapling from
Delaware, more than a century and a half ago. Looking about to
find a‘switch for his horse, it is said, he pulled up the tiny cypress, but
instead of using it for that purpose, carried it home and planted it,
prophesying that it would “grow to a great height.” The prediction
was fulfilled, as it attained to more than one hundred and fifty feet,
with a girth of seven feet. Long a noted tree, it had been protected
by an iron railing from the depredations of relic hunters.

Tue Cypress oF NEw BERn

A short distance from the edge of the Neuse River, at New Bern,
N. C., is a fine old cypress formerly owned by Governor Spaight of
that State.

The tree’s age is uncertain, but it was probably well grown before
the first Swiss settlers arrived from Berne. There is a tradition that
the first boat ever built in those waters was fashioned beneath its
shade, and then launched into the river. It was in Revolutionary
days, as one of its admirers observes, that “the tree became a
personality.” “4

In 1781, following the defeat of General Gates by Cornwallis
General Nathaniel Greene, who saved the American army at the
Brandywine, came to New Bern to consult with Governor Spaight.
The Army of the South was a wreck, and without funds nothing could
be done to rescue it. General Greene and the Governor met under
the cypress to discuss the matter, and there the latter pledged the
resources of the State, as well as his own private means to meet the
emergency.

Success quickly followed the reorganization of the army, and the
British were defeated at Kutaw Springs.

After becoming President, Washington made a visit to New
Bern, and on being told the story of the cypress, walked over to the
spot and rested under its shade, his intimate friendship with General
Green probably serving to emphasize his interest in that memorable
conference.

67

Tue Cypress OF Painters’ ARBORETUM

A cypress tree, worthy of note, stands in the old botanic garden
near Media, Penn., known as Painters’ Arboretum. In 1825, the two
botanists, Jacob and Minshall Painter, began planting their collec-
tion of rare shrubs and trees on their home farm, a tract of land taken
up by patents from William Penn, and settled by Jacob Minshall in
1701. The old place bears the distinction of never having been sold,
but always descending from one member of the family to another.

One of the most interesting features of the garden today, is the
old cypress, which illustrates in a striking manner the influence of
environment upon growth. This tree, which bears flat narrow leaves
like an evergreen, sheds them in the autumn and further surprises us
by altering its appearance according to the moisture of the soil in
which it grows. When standing near water or in swampy ground,
its branches are low and spreading, and all about its base, as in the
case of the Painters’ cypress, curious knobby growths, called knees,
push up through the grass.

They are evidently extensions of the roots and are for the pur-
pose of conveying air to them, for when the water is drained off, the
knees disappear as though their mission had been accomplished. They
are not to be found around a cypress standing in dry ground, and in
such surroundings the tree changes its appearance still more, rising
tall and slim, and bearing its branches chiefly on the upper part of.
the trunk.

Tue Exiein YEws

The ancient spreading yew trees of the South Court of Columbia
University, New York City, were for long years familiar features
of the college grounds, forming as they did a cherished link between
the University of the present day and that of one hundred years ago.
They were survivors of the Elgin Botanic Garden founded by Dr.
David Hosack, Professor of Botany and Materia Medica in the col-
lege from 1795 to 1811.

Having long wished for a botanic garden, the doctor, in 1797,
began urging the trustees to have one planted. Failing to accomplish
this, on account of lack of funds, he petitioned the Legislature, but
again no success. At length, in 1801, he purchased with his own
money, twenty acres on the Middle Road between Bloomingdale and
King’s Bridge, about three miles and a half distant from the city,
and named the little park the Elgin Botanic Garden.

Here he built a conservatory and two hot houses, surrounding
them with a “belt of forest trees and shrubs, both native and exotic.”
A large oil painting of the garden at that time, hangs in the Adminis-
tration Building, Bronx Park.

In 1811, the State purchased the garden from him, but three years
later ordered it broken up, probably because the expense of maintain-
ing It was too heavy, and directed “a list of the different kinds of

68

plants, flowers and shrubs in said garden be sent to each of the other
colleges in the State.” Within one year, the trustees of Columbia
College were required to deliver at least one healthy plant of each kind
to each college that applied for it. None appear to have applied,
however, and in 1819, or soon afterward, the trees and other plants
of the garden were presented to the New York Hospital, which had
purchased large property at Bloomingdale, now Morningside
Heights. The acceptance of the gift appears in the Hospital Report
for 1821.

Long before Columbia University bought the site, the fine old
English yews were conspicuous on the front lawn of the hospital
grounds. When the estate passed into its new ownership, they seemed
even more appropriately placed in academic surroundings. They
have been described as “monuments to the past and a memorial of a
man whose efforts have borne greater fruition in the Botanic Garden
which the city now possesses than even he could have hoped.”

Tuer Happon YEews

Longfellow’s beautiful poem “Elizabeth,” has immortalized one
of the earliest and most unique romances of the New World. A
modern house was long ago erected upon the site of the old Haddon
Homestead, at Haddonfield, N. J., the scene of the story, but today,
if fortunate enough to have the permission of its owner, one may visit
the old place with its historic setting, associated with the days of some
of the first Quaker settlers.

Elizabeth Haddon was the daughter of a wealthy Englishman, a.
member of the Society of Friends, and the holder of property in New
Jersey, on the site of the future town of Haddonfield. Firmly con-
vinced that she was called by the ‘Inner Light,” to leave her English
home and friends and cast in her lot in the New World, she obtained
her father’s consent to cross the seas to America and settle on his land
there. One stands aghast at the courage and determination of the
quiet Quaker maiden of nineteen, but the Divine call was to be obeyed,
and in 1701 she carried out her purpose, bringing with her, among
other cherished possessions, a bucket of slips from yew trees in the
home garden.

These she planted in front of her dwelling in the wilds of “the
Jerseys,” and taking kindly to their new quarters, they grew, and
flourished for many a year, their fame increasing with time and with
growth of popular interest in historic landmarks. Two of the yews
still ornament the old garden. Many a tale they might tell, to an
ear that could hear, of the coming and going of men and women of
note in the colonies, for the Haddon Homestead became a centre of
hospitality. And there were many guests of humbler origin, for at
the back of the dwelling-house still stands the little building where
the mistress of the home made and distributed medicines and cordials
to the Indians.

69

Busy as she was, in her new life, there was one face which Eliza-
beth had never forgotten, that of the young Quaker, John Estaugh,
whom she had heard speak “‘as if he were John, the Apostle,” at “the
great May-Meeting in London.” His stirring address had sunk into
the heart of the young girl, making a deep impression, and their meet-
ing was unto her a constant memory during the changing years that
followed.

And now, on some errand of business or mercy, Estaugh, too,
had come to the colony. The poet tells us how, journeying through
the winter night, he met another lone traveler, who, as they went on
together, told him of Elizabeth and her comfortable home and her
many good deeds. Perhaps the urge of old memories was even
stronger than the need of a night’s shelter. At all events, he lost no
time in seeking the latter, and was made welcome.

“Youthful he was and tall, and his cheeks aglow with the night-air;
And as he entered, Hlizabeth rose, and going to meet him,
As if an unseen power had announced and preceded his presence,
And he had come as one whose coming had long been expected,
Quietly gave him her hand, and said, ‘Thou art welcome, John Estaugh.’
And the stranger replied, With staid and quiet behavior,
‘Dost thou remember me still, Elizabeth? After so many
Years have passed, it seemeth a wonderful thing that I find thee.
Surely the hand of the Lord conducted me here to thy threshold’.”
And Elizabeth answered demurely:
“Surely the hand of the Lord is in it; his Spirit hath led thee
Out of the darkness and storm to the light and peace of my fireside!”

When the guest took his departure, next morning, in the glory of
the winter sunshine, it was with the promise to return at the meeting
to be held in May. Long and cold were the months that intervened;
full of cheerful labor, full, too, of quiet meditation, and when spring
came with its “rush of blossoms and music,” the inner voice once more
insistently called, and again Elizabeth obeyed.

Quarterly meeting was about to open, and John Estaugh, with
a party of Friends on their way to attend it, stopped at the Haddon
Homestead, for refreshment. As they were leaving, the young mis-
tress of the house called him aside, and telling him she had somewhat
to say in private, asked him to wait. Together, they rode through the
leafy woods, and then, faithful to her call, she unburdened her mind:

“Then Elizabeth said, though still with a certain reluctance,
As if impelled to reveal a secret she fain would have guarded:

I will no longer conceal what is laid upon me to tell thee;
I have received from the Lord a charge to love thee, John Estaugh.”

The poet has told us how John Estaugh, “surprised by the words
she had spoken,” urged that his business must be finished before he
could consider them; how he returned to England for a time, and then
“came back o’er the sea for the gift that was offered.”

In the old garden, where tradition tells us the lovers spent many
happy hours, the yews kept silent watch through the years that fol-
lowed. Long since, those first owners have passed away, but the old
trees survive. “They are waiting for you,” says Wilhelm Miller,

70

“just where you would expect to find them, at the old trysting place.
They brood over the centre of the garden like Philemon and Baucis,
and are stationed on either side of tht main walk. Unfortunately,
both trees were badly hurt by the continental ice storm a few years
ago, and it is doubtful whether they will survive another century.”

71

CHAPTER XIII

The Pines of Roanoke Island—The Pines of Canastota—Coaquannock
—The Delancey Pine—The Old Pine of Dartmouth College.

Tue Pines oF ROANOKE ISLAND

Roanoke Island, N. C., is distinguished as the spot where Sir
Walter Raleigh founded the first English colony in America. This
historic ground is still marked by old Fort Raleigh, where on August
18, 1587, occurred the birth of Virginia Dare, the first white child born
on the American continent.

Close by the fort stood two ancient pines, both trees of note and
witnesses of the early days of the Lost Colony, as the little band of
settlers has been christened. One of the oldest and most picturesque
of Indian legends is that concerning the fate of Virginia Dare, after
the colony had removed to the mainland where she was believed to
have grown to young girlhood.

The friendly Croatoan Indians among whom the colonists had
settled when forced to flee from the savages of Roanoke, reverenced
the white maiden and called her Wi-no-na Ska, First-born White
Daughter. O-kis-ko, one of the finest of the young braves, was
madly in love with her. But he had a rival in Chico, the Sorcerer,
who, though old enough to be the girl’s father, was ‘determined to
wed her or to allow no one else to do so. Virginia did not fancy Chico,
of that the crafty old man was aware, but the kind-hearted maiden
would not offend him and was always gracious to her ancient suitor,
though O-kis-ko was her choice.

As the earliest settlers had found, the rivers of the region
abounded in “great store of mussels in which there are pearls,” and
Chico, versed in the secrets of Indian magic, set about utilizing them

for his purpose.
“Such pearls are the souls of Naiads,
Who have disobeyed the Sea-King,
And in mussel-shells are prisoned
For this taint of human frailty.
When by man released from durance
These souls, grateful for their freedom,
Are his slaves, and ever render
Good or evil at his bidding.

Chico steeped each one he gathered
In a bath of mystic brewing;

Told each purple, pieded pearl-drop
What the evil was he plotted.
Never once his purpose wavered,
Never once his fury lessened:
Nursing vengeance as a guerdon
While the mussel-pearls he polished.”

Then, having built a canoe for the occasion, and invited Virginia
to paddle across to Roanoke with him, in search of grapes, he pre-

72

sented her with the necklace he had made. The pearls, lying close
about her white throat, could do her no harm while on the water, for
there the Sea-King held sway, but when. the canoe grated on the
pebbles of the island, and she stepped ashore, the maiden vanishd, and
in her place a white doe sprang gracefully forward and disappeared
in the thicket.
As Chico floated swiftly away, his song was borne over the water:

“Go, white doe, hide in the forest,

Feed upon the sweet wild grasses;

No winged arrow e’er shall harm you,

No red hunter e’er shall win you;

Roam forever, fleet and fearless,
Living free, and yet in fetters.”

Far and wide Virginia’s friends searched for her, but without
success. Then O-kis-ko overheard the old women sagely whispering
to one another of Chico’s wiles, saying that he had bewitched the girl,
and changed her into a white doe. Believing them, O-kis-ko tried, in
vain, to capture the animal. At length, despairing, he sought We-
nau-don, the magician of Po-mou-ik, who had long cherished a grudge
against Chico. We-nau-don had bathed in the Naiad’s magic spring,
whose powerful waters held the secret of perpeutal youth and brought
success in love. He instructed O-kis-ko to make an arrow of witch
hazel and fasten it to a triangle of three purple mussel-pearls, and a
heron’s wing, and taught him to repeat the charm,

“Mussel-pearl arrow, to her heart go;

Loosen the fetters which bind the white doe;
Bring the lost maiden back to O-kis-ko.”

Wingina, a neighboring chief, becoming annoyed at the tales he
heard of the white doe that none could take prisoner, made a feast
and invited the tribes to join in a hunt for her. The Croatoans did
not reply to the invitation, for they believed the doe to be Virginia’s
spirit, and fearful of harming her, would take no part in the chase.
O-kis-ko, thinking to set the maiden free, offered to try his arrow and
so did a boastful hunter named Wau-che-se.

On Roanoke Island, Wau-che-se stationed himself beneath a pine
tree, while O-kis-ko was concealed in the shrubbery nearby. In a few
moments, the white doe appeared, stepping cautiously, at the head of
the herd. O-kis-ko bent his bow and softly repeating the charm three
times, sent the dart of witch hazel straight to her breast. The deer
vanished and before him stood the lost maiden. But scarcely had he
beheld her before she fell at his feet, slain by Wau-che-se’s silver
arrow, begging O-kis-ko, with her last breath, to remember her
forever.

As Virginia’s blood mingled with the water of the magic spring
by which she had fallen, it became dry, and O-kis-ko, bending eagerly
forward, saw a little green shoot springing up from the bed of the
spring, toward the sunlight. Sorrowfully he buried the silver arrow
under the twigs and leaves, and inconsolable at his loss, visited the spot

73

again and again. The tiny shoot that he had seen grew swiftly till
it formed a leafy bower where the spring had been.

O-kis-ko, sitting often beneath its shade, noticed that clusters
of rich purple grapes hung from the branches and yielded red juice
instead of the white wine to which he had been accustomed. Tradition
says that this was the origin of the purple Scuppernong grape, a vine
that was abundant in the vicinity, but had formerly borne only white
fruit. Believing the red juice to be the lost maiden’s blood, O-kis-ko
came frequently to drink it, praying that it would nourish him and
lead him to her hereafter.

The legend of the white doe is found, at least in part, “wherever
in our land forests abound and deer abide.” A white doe is considered
an evil omen, and it is believed that only a silver arrow is fatal to her.

Though the members of Raleigh’s settlement on Roanoke were
tong known as the Lost Colony, on account of their complete dis-
appearance from the island, the title is a misnomer. There is little
doubt that they found a home among the friendly Indians of the
mainland, and that their descendants are living in North Carolina
today.

Sir Francis Nelson, who visited the region about 1608, recorded
that he was told of people living inland “who wore clothes and lived
in houses built with stone walls, and one story above another, so
taught them by the Englishmen who escaped the slaughter of
Roanoke.” Lawson, the first historian of the Carolinas, says he
learned from the Hatterask Indians that several of their ancestors
were white people and could “talk in a book.” A tribe of Indians
living in Harnet and Robeson Counties, N. C., believe themselves to
be descended from Raleigh’s colonists and the Cherokee Indians, who
lived together along the Neuse River. The Croatoans show evidences
of white blood, being good builders, and having to their credit some of
the best roads in the State, over one of which, the Lowrie Road, a
messenger carried the news of the Treaty of Ghent to General Jack-
son, in 1815. This tribe is also remarkable as speaking more correct
English than many of their white neighbors.

In 1906, the younger of the two pines at Fort Raleigh was cut
down, as it had for some time showed signs of decay. Close to the
centre of its trunk an arrow-head was found inbedded, probably shot
there by an Indian when the tree was a sapling, nearly four centuries
ago. Its companion, known as the Eagle Pine, had a wide-spreading
top used by eagles for a nesting-place for uncounted years, until in
1876 a storm laid the great tree low.

THE PINEs oF CANASTOTA

_ Canastota, N. Y., was originally an Indian village and derived
its name from an Indian word Kaniste, “cluster of pines”’; the suffix,
sota meaning “still silent, motionless.” The three tall pines, from
which it took its name, grew on the bank of Canastota Creek, and

74

one which had partly fallen, lodged in the branches of the other two,
forming a bower that became a favorite resting-place for the red men.
The trees were appreciated and preserved by Captain Reuben Per-
kins, first white settler of the region. When he obtained the patent
for the site in March, 1810, he built his home beside the cluster of
pines.

CoaQuaNNOCK

When William Penn founded his City of Philadelphia, on the
bank of the Delaware, he chanced upon a place already noted for its
trees.

Before the coming of the white men, perhaps centuries earlier,
the Indians had called the spot Coaquannock, “The place of tall
pines,” distinguishing it by the beauty of these rugged evergreens in
a region thickly grown with forest trees of various sorts. “The woods
of oak, hickory and firs covering both shores made a fine appearance,”
wrote Peter Kalm, the Swedish botanist, more than half a century
later, describing his voyage up the Delaware, even long after its rich
woodland had been thinned by the settler’s axe.

John Watson, the city’s chronicler, tells us that in 1682, the year
of Penn’s treaty with the Indians, Philadelphia had “a high and dry
bank, next to the water, with a shore ornamented with a fine view of
pine trees growing upon it.” He adds that, as the ship “Shields from
Hull” sailed up the river, a few years earlier, its masts became en-
tangled with the branches of overhanging trees, and one of the
passengers exclaimed, “What a fine place for a town!”

Tue DELANCEY PINE

The Delancey Pine, one hundred and fifty feet in height, which
stood within the boundaries of New York City’s Zoological Park,
numbered its years at three hundred and sixty, when it was felled in
1912. More than a century previous it had shaded the home of the
Royalist, Colonel James Delancey, of the Westchester Light Horse,
High Sheriff from 1770 to 1777.

Tue Op PINE oF DagtTMoUTH COLLEGE

The “Old Pine” of Dartmouth College at Hanover, N. H.,
dated back at least as far as 1783. It has been endeared to the alumni
as the centre of class-day exercises and other celebrations (one of
which was the tarring and feathering of a man who was charged
with crime,) during the greater part of a century. General Scott’s
nomination was marked by a cannon salute from under its branches,
but as Professor Hubbard’s house was struck by a stone, mischiev-
ously smuggled into the cannon, festivities ended abruptly.

There was a tradition, which proved to be unfounded, however,
that in the early days, three Indian students stood around the old tree,
singing in farewell to one another, “When shall we three meet again?”

75

The legend was a singularly appropriate one, as Dartmouth College
was founded for the education of the Indians, funds for it having
been collected by Samson Occum, the Mohican who accompanied
Whitefield to England, and there stated the claims of his people. He
received contribution to the amount of $6,000 (some of it from the
King) which he devoted to the needs of the College.

In 1892, the news spread among the alumni, “The Old Pine is
dying;” efforts were made to preserve it, but to no avail, and in
1895 it was cut down, the last class-day having been celebrated be-
neath its branches. The tree was seventy-one feet high, and a shot
was found imbedded in the seventy-ninth ring from the outside. The
stump, four feet in height, is all that remains to tell the tale of former
Stans It has been treated with a preservative, and is a valued
relic.

76

uoyed “T eHeyl &q OU uosfoLPINE “SY &q o,0U
dqYL ANId S.YaLLLIA A ‘Wd ‘ALNNOD JUVAVTEAd ‘VIONOIS ONNOL

CHAPTER XIV

The Jane McCrea Pine—Abolition Grove—Holmes and Whittier
Pines—The Kit Carson Tree—The McKinley Tree—The
Sequoias, Big Trees and Redwoods..

Tue JANE McCrea PINE

A pine tree, that witnessed the tragic death of Jane McCrea,
stood at Sandy Hill, in New York State. The young girl, who was
engaged to marry David Jones, an officer in Peters’ Regiment of
Loyalists, set out to meet her lover at his brother’s home, in the neigh-
borhood of General Frazer’s camp, escorted by two Indians, one of
whom was the Huron Chief, Wyandotte Panther.

A keg of rum had been promised the two savages if she were
delivered in safety at her destination, but on the way, they began
quarreling over the reward, and in order to prevent his companion
from enjoying any of it, Wyandotte Panther scalped the maiden
under the pine tree. The crime was committed on June 27th, the day
before Burgoyne broke camp at Fort Edward. The massacre filled
the countryside with horror.

ABOLITION GROVE

The white pine, with its smooth bark and soft, bluish-green tas-
sels, is the most beautiful of its family, and also invested with much
historic interest. The splendid group of white pines at Abington,
Mass., known as Island Grove, or more frequently as Abolition Grove,
has been called “‘the place where the Civil War began.” Here, noted
men and women frequently made eloquent speeches advocating the
abolition of slavery. Webster and Garrison were both among the
many speakers, adding their efforts to prove “that slavery can only
be overthrown by adherence to principle.” Meetings of the aboli-
tionists were held in the grove, annually, from 1846 to 1865. A great
boulder, bearing a copper plate with a long inscription, designates the
spot where the speakers stood.

Houtmes AND WHITTIER PINES

Two white pines, one in Massachusetts, the other in New Hamp-
shire, were ardently venerated and loved by two of our best known
American poets. The splendid specimen at Pittsfield, Mass., noted as
the Oliver Wendell Holmes Pines, is ninety-seven feet in height, and
its branches cast their shade over an area of almost ninety feet.

“Whittier’s Pine Tree,” which the Quaker poet dedicated in
1886, as the “Wood Giant,” stands on the Sturtevant Farm, near
Sunset Hill, Centre Harbor, N. H.

17

“Among the scattered groups of pines,” says Agnes L. Scott,
describing the venerable tree, “Whittier’s tree stands compact, like
a silent patriarch, with a splendor all its own. Its chief characteristic
is its magnificent strength, enormous trunk and powerful boughs that
give it the appearance ofa giant.” Every day, it was the poet’s
custom to walk to the great pine and watch the sunrise from beneath
its branches.

“Here he saw to the East the Cardigan Mountains; to the North,
the Sandwich Range; to the West, the Ossipie Range; and here he
saw the beautiful broad view of Squaw Lake with its green wooded
islands.”

Tue Kir Carson 'TREE

The Native Sons of California have erected a monument mark-
ing the site of the pine on which Kit Carson carved his name, in 1844,
when acting as a guide to Colonel Fremont. It was on this trip that
the Colonel discovered Lake Tahoe. ‘The pine, which stood in a pass
in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, was cut down in 1888. A full
account of its history has been placed in the monument.

Tue McKIntey TREE

The tall, spreading pine on the Hotel Champlain Golf Course
gained its fame as the favorite resting-place of the late President
William McKinley, during a summer visit to the hotel at Bluff Point,
when he made the Hotel Champlain the “summer capitol.” A re-
markable coincidence, which further distinguished the tree, was that
on the very day on which the President was assassinated, the pine
was struck by lightning and its upper part broken off.

THE SEquoia4s, Bic TREES AND REDWoops

Once abundant over the whole of the northern hemisphere, in
Europe, Siberia, Alaska, Greenland and Canada, as well as in
America, the Sequoias are now represented by only two species, both
natives of California; S. gigantea, the Big Tree, and S. sempervirens,
the Redwood of the Coast Range. They are universally conceded to
be the oldest living things on earth, the age of those which have been
cut, averaging from eleven hundred to three thousand, two hundred
and fifty years, while the two known as the Grizzly Giant and the
General Sherman Tree are estimated to be of far greater age. In
height the Big Trees vary from one hundred and fifty to two hundred
and twenty-five feet, and naturalists have calculated, that, judging
from the tapering of the trunk, they would normally have reached
six hundred feet, if left unmolested by wind and fire. In circumfer-
ence they average from five to twenty-five feet at shoulder height
above ground. Many attain a much greater size, and the famous
General Sherman Tree measures one hundred and three feet around
the trunk.

“How old the oldest trees may be is not yet certain,” says Dr.
Ellsworth Huntington, of the Department of Geography, Yale Uni-

78

versity. “But I have counted the rings of forty that were over two
thousand years of age, of three that were over three thousand and of
one that was three thousand one hundred and fifty.”

The first white man to have a glimpse of these forest giants was
probably General John Bidwell of California, who arrived in 1841,
with a party of emigrants. Reporting the marvelous trees to General
Fremont, he found his story scorned. A similar reception awaited
Mr. Dowd, a hunter who is said to have found himself in the Calaveras
Grove, and was, naturally, lost in wonder at what he saw. Returning
to his companions, at. their camp, his story was ridiculed. Shortly
afterward, while hunting, he succeeded in guiding them into the grove,
and letting them see for themselves.

The Big Trees now became known far and wide. Cones and
leaves were shipped to Gary and Torrey, the botanists, but were lost
on the voyage. It remained for a British naturalist, William Lobb,
to transplant specimens to England, and for Dr. Lindley of London
to record the tree as a new genus and name it after the Iron Duke,
Wellingtonia Gigantea. The Redwoods had already been known to
scientists for many years, however, and had been classified under the
name of Sequoia. Decaisne, a French botanist, decided that the Big
Tree was unquestionably another member of the same genus, and
christened it Sequoia Gigantea, by which name we know it today.

An American, Dr. C. E.. Winslow, becoming jealous for the fame
of his own country, soon afterward published a letter, dated August
8, 1854, in the “California Farmer,” urging that the Big Trees should
logically be named for Washington, Washingtonia Californica. But
though some writers have adhered to this name, it was never adopted
by botanists. The name Sequoia, it may be added, which had already
been bestowed upon the Redwoods, was given in honors of the noted
Cherokee, Sequoyah, who invented the first alphabet ever used by
the Indians. The perpetuation of his name in this way was considered
an act of poetic justice on the part of the United States Government.

The Redwoods of the Coast Range live only about half as long
as the average Big Tree, generally from five hundred to one thousand
three hundred years, probably somewhat longer. Their circumference
is usually sixteen feet, though the largest known measures thirty-
three feet, and their height varies from one hundred to three hundred
and forty feet. As the Redwood is an evergreen its name, sempervir-
ens, is well given. It has been described as a “beautiful, cheerful and
very brave tree. Burned and hacked and butchered, it sprouts up
again with a vitality truly amazing. It is the marvelous capacity for
new growth from trunk or from root saplings, which is perhaps the
most interesting character of the Redwood in contrast with the Big
Tree, which has no such means of regeneration and must depend on
its cones for reproduction.”

It was in October, 1769, that the Redwoods were first seen by
white men. An entry of that date in the diary of Padré Crespi, a

79

Spanish missionary, mentions seeing them, near where the town of
Santa Cruz, Cal., now stands. As such trees were entirely new to
him and his party, they received a Spanish name meaning red, from
the color of the wood.

Unfortunately, redwood timber has been found to be of excellent
quality. A forest of these trees will yield from one hundred thousand
to one million feet of timber. Incredible as it seems it has been found
necessary to protect these giant forests, both of Redwoods and Big
Trees from the lumberman’s axe. “It is scarcely necessary to dwell
on the crime involved in the destruction of the oldest and tallest trees
on earth,” says Madison Grant.

“The cutting of a Sequoia for grape-stakes or railroad ties . . .
is like breaking up one’s grandfather’s clock for kindling to save the
trouble of splitting logs at the wood pile, or lighting one’s pipe with
a Greek manuscript to save the trouble of reaching for matches.”

Thanks to the efforts of the “Save the Redwoods League,” which
began its work in 1917, much has been done to rouse public sentiment
on the question, and to pave the way for establishing a Redwood Park.
America is greatly indebted to the National Geographical Society
for its co-operation with the Government in presenting to the people
for a park the Giant Forest of Big Trees which is the largest body of
trees of this kind in existence, and one of Nature’s greatest marvels.

One of the few Sequoias east of the Rocky Mountains, and prob-
ably the only one of its age in the east, grows by the roadside in a field
in Delaware County, Penn., about twenty miles from Philadelphia.

The tree is a true Sequoia Gigantea, but it is a mere infant of
its species, being probably between seventy-five and eighty years of
age, and was brought from California to one of the early botanists of
Pennsylvania, about the year 1850. Thirty-five feet in height and
with a circumference of two feet, it has a long life in prospect, pro-
vided it can withstand the occasional severity of eastern winters.
About half a mile distant, in the historic old botanic garden known as
Painters’ Arboretum and formerly owned by the brothers Jacob and
Minshall Painter, is another Sequoia, S. sempervirens. This is a
Redwood, said to be the only survivor of six of its kind, which were
also brought from the Pacific coast, two of them for the Painters, and
the remainder for two other botanists, Evans and Meehan.

80

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CHAPTER XV

Daniel Boone’s “Bar Tree”—Beech of Great Cloud Island—A Beech
of Milwaukee—Beeches of Camp Robinson—Origin of Weeping
Beeches—Black Walnut of Stony Point—Whipping Tree of Fish-
kill—Black Walnut of Maplewood—Walnut Beside Washington’s
Tomb—The Treaty Tree of Philipse Manor.

DanlieEL Boone’s “Bar TREE”

At Cumberland Gap, the famous mountain pass near the borders
of Tennessee and Kentucky, is a tablet, placed there by the Tennessee
Daughters of the Revolution, and bearing these words: “Daniel
Boone’s Trail from North Carolina to Kentucky, 1769.”

Nearby, on the bank of Carroll Creek which flows into the Wat-
auga River, is an immense beech known as “Daniel Boone’s Bar
Tree,” from the inscription cut in the bark, “D Boone cill EK D A
B A R On tree in the Y E A R 1760.” The trunk of the beech
measures twenty-eight and one-half feet around, at a distance of four
and one-half feet from the ground, and its height would equal eighty-
five feet if it stood erect; it leans south, however, at an angle of thirty
degrees. The United States Forest Service has estimated its age at
from three hundred and forty to three hundred and sixty years.

The Forest Examiner, Mr. Wilbur R. Mattoon, describes the
tree as “a living record of an event in the life of probably the first
white man to venture into the heavy forests formerly covering the
western slopes of the middle Appalachians.” Inhabitants of the
region told Mr. Mattoon that the original inscreption was legible as
late as from 1875 to 1885, a surprisingly long period for it to endure.
The figures 1815 carved also on the trunk can still be clearly read,
but we have no record of the event to which they refer.

Beecu or Great Ciroup Istanp

The only beech tree ever known to grow within the borders of
Minnesota, stood on Great Cloud Island, in the Mississippi River,
between St. Paul and Hastings. It is mentioned in the journal kept
by Major Thomas Forsythe, a member of Colonel Leavenworth’s
expedition of 1819, which was sent out for the purpose of establishing
Fort Snelling. The Indians called the tree “Medicine Wood,” sig-
nifying “simply miraculous or wonderful tree.”

Forsythe comments on it was follows: “Medicine Wood takes
its name from a large beech tree, which kind of wood the Sioux are
not acquainted with, and supposing that the Great Spirit has placed
it there as a genii to protect or punish them according to their merits
or demerits.”

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A BrecHu oF MILWAUKEE

Another historic beech stood, some years ago, near the corner of
13th and Wells Streets, Milwaukee, Wis., and was evidently a relic
of very early times. Upon its trunk was carved the figure of an
Indian holding in one hand an arrow pointing toward the Menominee
River, in the other hand a bow pointing toward the Milwaukee. The
tree is no longer standing, and its loss is much to be regretted.

BEEcHESs oF Camp ROBINSON

Standing in Riverside Park, Indianapolis, Ind., a handsome
grove of beech trees recalls the days of the Civil War. Nearly sixty
years ago, the grove was known as Camp Robinson, the spot selected
by General Wallace, (widely known as the author of “Ben-Hur”), as
the rendezvous of the Eleventh Indian regiment while it was being
fitted for service. :

The trees occupy an elevation above White River, and when the
camp was established there, the surrounding country was heavily
wooded, an ideal place for concentration upon the task in hand. Some
of the spare time of the soldiers was spent in carving names and
initials on the beech trunks, and during the long years that have
followed, the bark has grown over the letters in such a way that they
stand out as if embossed, and are more clearly legible today than
when they were cut.

OrIGIN OF WEEPING BEECHES

On the Jackson Place at Flushing, N. Y., is a magnificent weep-
ing beech to which is attached an interesting bit of history. Over a
century ago, Baron De Mar, a Belgian noble, was watching the
transplanting, on his estate in Belgium, of several European beech
trees. Noticing one whose branches were hanging so that it appeared
almost deformed, he directed the gardener to throw it out. The latter,
however, considered the odd looking specimen worth attention, and
proceeded to care for it until it repaid his efforts by developing into
the graceful tree, that is now known as the drooping or weeping beech.
When Baron De Mar saw the novel specimen he was delighted, and
shoots from it were sent to his friends in France.

In 1847, Samuel B. Parsons, a nurseryman of Flushing, while
traveling in Europe in search of unusual plants, purchased a descen-
dant of the De Mar beech. He planted it in a flower pot and brought
it back to Flushing as part of his personal luggage. There it grew
and matured into the beautiful tree that stands at present on the
Jackson Place, in all probability the first weeping beech of America.

Brack WALNUT oF Stony Point

Occupying literally, “the centre of the stage,” with no companion
near, to bear an equal share in dignity of years or of historic associa-

82

tions, an ancient black walnut near the town of Stony Point, N. Y.., is
the sole surviving witness of events connected with the memorable
battle of Stony Point.

On the bank of the Hudson River, rises the Point, a “defiant
promontory with rocky and wooded faces . . . fittingly described as
a natural sentinel guarding the gateway of the far-famed Highlands
of the Hudson.” About one hundred and fifty feet at its highest
point, it juts out into the river half a mile from shore; on the inland
side is marshy ground, which at the time of the Revolution was deep
and treacherous. No wonder that such a natural fortress was called
“little Gibraltar.” And no wonder the British troops felt secure in
such a stronghold.

The belief has been handed down among the residents of Stony
Point, that under the old walnut tree Washington paid the men after
the battle. ‘There seems no reason to doubt the statement; certainly
not on the question of age, for the tree was undeniably there at the
time, and when intact, its branches must have cast a breadth of shade
that would have rendered the spot most fitting for the occasion. For
the assault took place during July, and no doubt the sun of midsum-
mer beat down as relentlessly in 1780, as at present.

Four feet above the ground, the massive trunk measures twenty-
one feet in circumference, and four feet further up, it divides into two
parts, rising to a height of approximately eighty feet. Subject by its
exposed position to a severe sweep of the wind, the southern fork has
been torn away, and this veritable monarch of the countryside stands
pathetically shorn of its former glory.

It is much to be regretted that no adequate attempt has been
made to preserve this natural monument of a stirring page in our
country’s history.

Wuiprinec TREE OF FISHKILL

On the east side of the Hudson, on the old Albany Post Road,
two miles south of the village of Fishkill, N. Y., stood, until about
a dozen years ago, a black walnut, used during the Revolution as a
whipping tree. It was the custom, when punishing offenders beneath
such trees, to fasten them by their thumbs to iron spikes or nails
driven into the trunk. It was, of course, a foregone conclusion that
this must have been done in the case of this black walnut, but in
later years no traces of the metal were visible. When, however, the
old tree finally lay prone on the ground, and was chopped into fire-
wood, the axe met an obstruction, and investigation brought to light
the iron collar, driven full of huge nails, that had partly encircled
the trunk, and over which, in the course of time, the bark had grown,
entirely covering it.

The field in which the whipping tree stood was a camping ground
of the American troops. while almost opposite, across the road, is the
old Wharton homestead, used as headquarters by their officers, and

83

also famous as the scene of many episodes in Cooper’s novel, “The

”»
Spy.
Briack WALNUT oF MAPLEWOOD

The large, spreading black walnut still standing in front of
Timothy Ball’s house at Maplewood, N. J., was planted in 1743, the
year that the house was built. A magnificent shade tree, and still
bearing a plentiful crop of nuts, it is rich in historic association. The
Balls were Washington’s cousins, and the General often visited them,
and tied his horse to an iron ring in the trunk of the walnut. Old
people, still living, remember when the ring was visible, though now
it is doubtless hidden by the growth of the trunk around it.

The old tree also served another purpose; it stood about half-way
between two Presbyterian churches, and was considered to mark the
dividing line between them. Residents to the north of it were ex-
pected to attend the Orange church, those living south the Springfield
church.

WaALNut BEsIpE WASHINGTON’s TOMB

This tree, planted by George Washington’s father, and in the
shade of which the first President of the United States was buried,
became conspicuous on account of a large burl or knot on its trunk,
measuring five feet through, and probably one hundred years old,
when removed and sent to the National Museum at Washington, D. C.

Tue Treaty TREE oF Puitips—E Manor

Many historical and literary associations cluster about the beauti-
ful tract of country on the east bank of the Hudson, once known as
Philipse Manor, N. Y.

At least a portion of it is said to be one of the last grants of land
in America signed by William and Mary of England. In 1672,
Frederick Philipse purchased a large share of it, originally in the
possession of de Jonkheer Adrian Van der Donck, the future site of
the town of Yonkers, N. Y., and then proceeded to add to his pro-
perty until it included thousands of acres of forest, field and hill.
His fine estate has been described as “virtually a barony under the
management and sway of the masterful proprietor.”

In 1682, “the Dutch Millionaire” as he was dubbed, built his
manor-house near New York City, and later erected “Castle Philipse,”
at Sleepy Hollow in Tarrytown, N. Y. Both residences were hand-
somely furnished, and the grounds surrounding them were beautified
with imported shrubbery and flowers. Near the “castle” stands a
memento of those early days, of equal, if not greater interest than even
the homestead.

This is the well known “Treaty Tree,” a huge chestnut, measur-
ing over twenty feet in circumference. Though the last sign of life
has departed from its leafless branches, the ancient tree has not been

84

felled, but is carefully preserved by the Philipse Manor Company,
vines having been planted at its base, and having grown and twined
themselves pityingly around the gaunt trunk and limbs until they
have rendered the former monarch of the forest once more a thing of
beauty. Under the old chestnut, it is believed, was signed the last
treaty made between the whites and the Wequadequeek Indians who
lived in that region.

It is told (and is quite possible) that under its shade, also, Wash-
ington Irving wrote his tale of the “(Headless Horseman,” whose
favorite resort, it will be remembered, was the neighborhood of Old
Sleepy Hollow Bridge. A short distance away, Irving’s former resi-
dence “Sunnyside” is situated, only a ten or fifteen minutes trip
from the tree, if one happens to be motoring.

The ancient chestnut stands on the Philipse Manor property and
is in plain sight from Broadway, the Albany Post Road.

85

CHAPTER XVI

The “Old Washington Tree”—The “Big Chestnut Tree” of Valley
Cottage—The Cedarcroft Chestnut—Indian Trails and Trait

Trees.
Tre “OLp WASHINGTON TREE”

The spreading chestnut tree at New Hope, Penn., long known
as the “Old Washington Tree,” was not only directly associated with
the Father of his Country, but also marked a spot of great strategic
importance in the struggle for American Independence.

Coryell’s Ferry at New Hope, was the best ferry on the Dela-
ware River north of Trenton, N. J., and both the British and
American armies were desirous of controlling it, the former failing
more than once to effect a crossing from New Jersey to the Pennsy]-
vania shore.

During December, 1776, a large part of the Continental Army
was encamped at New Hope. A month previous, Washington had
evacuated Fort Lee on the Hudson, opposite New York City, and
retreated across New Jersey to Trenton, where, there is little doubt
Cornwallis confidently expected to find the Americans an easy prey
on account of the difficulty of escaping across the Delaware.

Thanks, however, to the patriotic efforts of two young men, Jerry
Black and Daniel Bray (later known as General Bray), who were
acquainted with every boatman on the river, a large enough fleet was
secured to carry the Continental troops safely across, at the historic
point just above the present town of Taylorsville, N. J., known to
history as “Washington’s Crossing.”

“Coryell’s Ferry” on the Pennsylvania shore, now became a busy
military centre.

“Within the limits of this ancient borough,” says Richard Ran-
dolph Parry, “the eye rested everywhere upon the valley, hillside and
fields dotted with the tents of the Continental soldiers. At the Neeley
(Thompson) farmhouse were quartered Lieut. James Monroe, after-
ward President of the United States, and other officers. Nearby at
‘Chapman’s’ were General Knox and Captain Alexander Hamilton.”
General Greene was at a neighboring farmhouse, and General Sulli-
van only a short distance away. General Washington’s headquarters
were at the Keith farm.

The “Old Washington Tree” stood in a field opposite General
De Fernoy’s and Lord | Stirling’s headquarters, and under its
branches, Washington and his Generals, Knox, Sullivan, Greene and
Stirling, first discussed plans for the Battle of Trenton which was so
soon to occur.

86

Again, in 1778, when Coryell’s Ferry, as well as the other cross-
ings of the Delaware, were held in security by American troops,
Washington and his staff rested at noonday in the shade of the big
chestnut, when on their way to attack General Clinton’s army at
Monmouth, N. J.

On November 28, 1893, the old tree was cut down, to make room
for improvements. Near the spot which it graced there is an old
stone house once owned by Captain Edward F. Randolph, a “patriot
of 1776,” who gave his services to his country, refusing to accept any
remuneration for his distinguished military service.

Tue “Bic CHestnut Tree” oF VALLEY CorTracEe

Valley Cottage, N. Y., possesses an interesting relic of Revolu-
tionary times, in the shape of an old chestnut stump which stands
thirty feet high. In its prime, the tree reached a height of about
fifty-five feet. At its base, the stump measures nineteen feet, eight
inches in circumference, an important item considering its part in
history.

The chestnut was owned by a Tory who was known to be bitterly
opposed to the American cause. The Whigs, coming to arrest him,
one day, were unable to find any trace of his whereabouts, when sud-
denly their search was rewarded in a most unexpected fashion. His
pet calf, who was noted for following its master everywhere, was
seen to station itself beneath the tree, and began bleating loudly. Its
master, hidden in the hollow trunk, was quickly seized and made
prisoner. What became of his pet, the innocent cause of his capture,
has not been recorded.

Tuer CEDARCROFT CHESTNUT

“When I build a house,” Bayard Taylor, the well known author,
said in his youth, “TI shall build it upon the ridge, with a high steeple
from the top of which I can see far and wide.” Cedarcroft, the home
that he did construct, later in life, at Kennet Square, Penn., not only
fulfilled this requirement, but was also happy in a wealth of fine
old trees, both cedars and mighty forest trees of various sorts. Taylor
used to say that not even the oaks of Charlecote Park, where young
Shakespeare occasionally trespassed, could equal the trees of
Cedarcroft.

One in particular, a splendid old chestnut, was a favorite rendez-
vous for himself and his literary friends. Sidney Lanier, the poet, a
welcome visitor at Taylor’s home, and an evident lover of nature, was
much attached to the ancient tree, and immortalized it as a valued
companion, in-his graceful poem, “Under the Cedarcroft Chestnut.”

“A Presence large, a grave and steadfast form
Amid the leaves’ light play and fantasy,
A calmness conquered cut of many a storm,
A Manhood mastered by a chestnut tree!

87

Then, while his monarch fingers downward held
Then rugged burrs wherewith his state was rife,
A voice of large, authoritative Eld

Seemed uttering quickly parables of life:

How Life in truth was sharply set with ills;

‘A kernel cased in quarrels yea, a sphere

Of stings, and hedge-hog-round of mortal quills.
How most men itched to eat too soon i’ the year,

And took but wounds and worries for their pains,
Whereas the wise withheld their patient hands, ;
Nor plucked green pleasures till the suns and rains
And seasonable ripenings burst all bands.

And opened wide the liberal burrs of life,

There, O my Friend, beneath the chestnut bough,
Gazing on thee immerged in modern strife,

I framed a prayer of fervency that thou,

In soul and stature larger than thy kind,
Still more to this strong form might’st liken thee

Till thy whole Self in every fibre find
The tranquil lordship of thy chestnut tree.”

InpDIAN TRAILS AND TRAIL TREES

Long before the first white settlers had found their way to North
America, the native Indians had covered the continent with a network
of highways or trails over which they traveled great distances with
incredible swiftness.

The Santa Fe and Oregon trails were much used routes, both
starting at Independence, Mo., and terminating, one in New Mexico,
the other near the Willamette River, Ore. Another trail led from
Montreal, Canada, down the Ottawa River to Lake Huron and
Green Bay, Wis., and still another ran in a different direction from
Montreal through Lake Champlain into Lake George, and connected
by a portage with the Hudson River in New York State.

Albany on the Hudson was connected by a trail with Rochester
and Buffalo, N. Y., on the Great Lakes. A trail known as the
“trading path” began at Richmond, Va., and the famous “Warriors’
Path” linked Cumberland Gap, on the borders of Tennessee and
Kentucky with the mouth of the Scioto River, in Ohio. Another
trail running from Philadelphia to Kentucky by Cumberland Gap
extended nearly eight hundred miles.

As the Indians were accustomed to marching in single file, their
roads were narrow, those in the eastern part of the country rarely
exceeding eighteen inches in width. After the coming of the white
men, the trails were constantly traveled by them as well as by the
Indian traders, hunters and war-parties, since it was easier to follow
already beaten tracks than to blaze their own. It is an interesting fact
that most of the railroads in New York State, as probably elsewhere,
follow pretty nearly the route of the old trails.

__ The Indians are said to have marked their trails by certain signs
either natural or artificial for the sake of convenience.

88

There is a tradition in the Alleghenies of Pennsylvania, that slabs
of rock which have been found in an upright position, were used to
mark trails there. In other localities, it is thought that the various
trees whose limbs appear to have been forced into abnormal positions
in such a way as to attract attention, were intended by the red men to
serve as guide posts along their narrow and often tortuous ways.

A good example of these “Indian Trail Trees” as they are called,
is the tall hickory at Madison, Wis., (on Cover) on the route of an old
trail, one of whose branches is conspicuously bent into a horizontal
position as if to indicate a certain direction. Another trail tree at
County Line, Glencoe, Ill., by the side of the railroad, has an odd
appearance; perhaps fifteen feet above ground level its trunk is bent
downward to the earth and then upward again, forming a sharp elbow,
a few feet above which it forks and then continues up, its leafy
branches rising to a good height. Whether intentionally bent into this
position or owing it to a freak of nature, such a tree would of course
constitute a guide-post not easily overlooked or forgotten.

“There are at various places along the North Shore (of Lake
Michigan) and following closely the line of several of the old Indian
trails some curious trees that apparently have been broken, or rather
bent and tied down with saplings by Indians to mark these trails,”
says Frank E. Grover of the Chicago Historical Society. “That cus-
tom has been followed in other localities, among which, it is said, is
the Braddock Trail, several localities near Fox Lake, Ill., also in the
vicinity of Mackinac, Mich., and it is entirely probably here. The
trees are invariably large and, if this convenient and plausible theory
is correct, some of this work of so marking the trails must have been
done a century and more ago, for many of the trees are white oaks of
considerable size. These trees and this theory present also a most
interesting field for inquiry and speculation.

“But some six years ago, there were eleven of these trees in per-
fect alignment, leading from the site of the old Indian village at High-
land Park, IIl., in a northwesterly direction for several miles, most of
them are still standing and can be easily identified, and what is partic-
ularly of interest is the fact that all of these trees are white oaks, while
another line of similar trees supposed to mark another old trail farther
to the south, near Willamette, Ill., are without exception, white elms,
indicating system in the selection. These in the City of Evanston, IIl.,
were oaks and supposed by the supporters of this theory to lead to the
chipping stations or shops on the lake shore. ‘Two or three of these
trees were also located on the North branch of the Chicago River, IIL,
_near the Glen View Golf Club, probably marking the trail to one of

the nearby villages. Another circumstance that gives color to this
contention is that where those trees were found was once a dense and
heavy forest, where it is probable that an Indian trail would be
marked, if marked at all.”

89

CHAPTER XVII

The old Mulberry of St. Mary’s—The Harris Mulberry—Some Early
Attempts at Silk Culture—Mulberries of Mt. Vernon—Mulberry

Farm—Mulberries of McSherrystown.

Tur OLD MULBERRY OF ST. Mary’s

In February, 1634, two ships, the Ark and the Dove, carrying
English colonists, anchored in the Potomac River at an island about
half a mile from the Maryland shore.

Delighted at the wooded bluffs and green islands they had passed,
the passengers had amused themselves by giving names to the various
points as it pleased their fancy, and called the island where they now
landed, St. Clement’s. It is known today as Blakiston’s Island.

Leonard Calvert, leader of the expedition, continued his journey
farther up the beautiful river, in order to interview the chiefs of the
various tribes and satisfy them that his intentions were friendly.
Happily for all concerned, he met a fur-trader, Captain Henry Fleet,
whose intimate knowledge of the surrounding country served the
strangers well. As they objected to settling far from the sea, he
guided them to a smaller river flowing into the Potomac, to which they
gave the name of St. George’s, calling one of the two harbors formed
at its mouth, Saint Mary’s, by which name the little river became
known later.

Following the smaller stream, they landed at a bluff, and half a
mile farther inland, Captain Fleet introduced them to his friends of the
Indian village of Yaocomico.

On the bluff, overlooking the water, its great size causing it to be
visible for a considerable distance up and down the river, was the
immense tree afterward known as the Old Mulberry, a landmark in-
timately associated with the history of the colonists of the little town
of St. Mary’s, the first capital of Maryland.

“Well authenticated tradition,’—which is closely akin to actual
history—tells us that under the mulberry’s shade, Calvert made a
treaty with the Yaocomicos, exchanging with them “mutual promises
to each other to live friendly and peacably together, and if any injury
should happen to be done on either part, that satisfaction should be
made for the same.” And the compact was faithfully kept, all work-
ing happily together, busily planting and building, the whites sharing
the redmen’s village, and eventually purchasing the land from them.
As raids by the powerful Susquehannocks were becoming very trou-
blesome, the Indians consented readily to this arrangement, and
willingly noved to other quarters. Almost immediately, the political
history of the little State began. The First General Assembly of

90

MULRERRY WALK
Planted by Count Du Barry. Courtesy of Mrs. Frederick Winslow Taylor.

Sections of box planted by Count Du Barry, and buildings erected by him
for boiling cocoons. Courtesy of Mrs. Frederick W. Taylor.

Maryland was convened at Saint Mary’s on February 26, 1635, meet-
ing, it is said, under the Old Mulberry. Under its branches, also,:the
first Mass is believed to have been celebrated by the little community.
The historic tree became a centre of popular interest in the village;
on its trunk were nailed Governor Calvert’s proclamations and those
of his successors; as well as “notices of punishment and fines, the
inventories of debtors whose goods were to be sold and all notices
calling for the public attention.” In comparatively recent years, the
“rude nails” which had fastened these documents to the tree, were
still to be seen in the wood.

About seventy feet distant from the tree, the State House was
built, and for sixty-one years the little capital flourished. Not all
was harmony, for Lord Baltimore refused, at first, to approve the
Acts of the Assembly, holding that under the charter of Maryland
he alone had power to make laws. In return, at their next session,
the colonists rejected all his bills and passed their own. After this,
their rights were not again questioned, and in 1637, they became in
reality a self-governing body. °

Political freedom having been established, religious liberty was
also guaranteed in the famous “Toleration Act” passed in 1649, which
has been styled the “proudest memorial by colonial Maryland.”
Within the old State House, says Dr. James Walter Thomas, the
historian, were laid “to a great extent the foundations and outlines
of the present legal, civil and social structure of Maryland, and of
some of its most cherished institutions.”

In 1691, Saint Mary’s was placed under Royal Government and
the Church of England established there. In 1694, Anne-Arundel-
town or Annapolis was proclaimed State Capital, partly on the plea
that Saint Mary’s was not sufficiently accessible.

In vain, did the inhabitants offer to maintain a coach and six
horses for “riding post,” between Saint Mary’s and Pawtunxet, during
the sessions of the Legislature. The history of the town was virtually
finished, and gradually the place became, indeed, a deserted village.

It is interesting to note, in passing, that the Pawtunxet road,
leading to Annapois, is still known as the “Three Notched Road,”
due to the fact that by order-of the Assembly of 1704, it as well as
other highways, were distinguished by notches cut in the trees, and
the Pawtunxet main road was marked by three such cuts, some of
which are still visible.

The usefulness of the Old Mulberry did not all vanish with the
fall of its little city. It yielded some of its wood for furniture to be
used in the Episcopal Church later built there, and some for the mak-
ing of souvenirs sold for the benefit of the same Church. Living
through parts of at least three centuries, and witnessing some of the
most interesting scenes of colonial history and much that was of vast
importance to future generations in its own State, the veteran Mul-
berry fell in 1876, sincerely mourned by many who had learned to

91

love and reverence the ancient tree. On the spot where it cast its
dense shade for so long a period, stands a handsome monument bear-

ing the following inscription:
“To the Memory of Leonard Calvert
First Governor of Maryland,
This Monument is
Erected by

THE STATE OF MARYLAND.
ERECTED ON THE SITE OF THE
OLD MULBERRY TREE

Under which the First Colonists of Maryland assembled
To Establish a Government where the persecuted and
oppressed of every creed and every clime might repose in
peace and security, adore their common God, and enjoy
the priceless blessings of civil and religious liberty.

Leonard Calvert
Second Son of George Calvert
and Anne, His Wife,
Led the First Colonists to Maryland
November 22, 1633-March 3, 1634—Founded Saint Mary’s

March 27, 1634.”

Tur Harris MULBERRY

Until 1884, when it was uprooted by a flood, a mulberry tree
sacred to the memory of John Harris, founder of Harrisburg, Penn.,
stood at the foot of Washington Street, in that city.

Harris was one of the emigrants who came to this country with
William Penn, possessing at that time sixteen guineas as his entire
capital. Settling in Philadelphia, he began work as a contractor,
cleaning the streets of stumps and opening new thoroughfares.

Opening trade with the Indians, he traveled as far as the present
site of Harrisburg, and began a settlement there about 1719.

It happened, one day, that a number of Indians stopped at
the Harris home, most of the party being under the influence of liquor,
and demanded more rum. Upon Mr. Harris’ refusal, they bound him
to the mulberry tree and warned him to prepare for death. Piling dry
wood at his feet, they were about to apply a torch, when Hercules, his
negro slave, summoned a band of friendly Indians to the rescue.
Harris’ life was saved, and as an expression of gratitude he gave
Hercules his freedom.

In later years, an inscription commemorating Harris’ narrow
escape was placed upon the tree.

92

SomE Fiarty ATremMpts at SitK CULTURE

The establishment of the silk industry in America was urged
early in the history of the colonies, mulberry trees being plentiful and
furnishing a ready supply of food for silk worms.

In 1725, James Logan, William Penn’s secretary, wrote to the
Penn family, speaking of the culture of silk in America “as extremely
beneficial and promising.” In 1734, Governor Gordon, of Pennsyl-
vania, addressing the Lords Commissioners of Trade, on various sub-
jects, spoke of the good returns that might be expected from silk
culture, mulberry trees being native to American soil.

The year 1770 saw the subject taken up in Philadelphia, Penn.,
and the surrounding country, with great interest. For this the
American Philosophical Society (Philadelphia) was largely respons-
ible, influenced, of course, by letters from Dr. Benjamin Franklin
who was at that time abroad.

Application was made to the Colonial Assembly for the estab-
lishment of a “public filature at Philadelphia for winding cocoons,
and the managers to have power to grant premiums, etc., equal to
about £500 per annum for five years.” Necessary funds were raised
by private subscription, Governor John Penn being one of the donors.
In June, 1770, the factory was opened at a house in 7th Street,
between Arch and High. The following year, about twenty-three
hundred pounds of silk was brought there to reel.

Many mulberry trees were now planted in New Jersey and
around Philadelphia. Women devoted much of their time to the
industry, as the war had cut off the usual importation of silks.

In 1770, “the celebrated Susanna Wright,” of Columbia, Lan-
caster County, Penn., made a piece of silk from her own cocoons,
sixty yards long, and also much sewing silk. Two years later, Robert
Proud, the historian, visiting her home, saw fifteen hundred silk-
worms at work, under her charge. She thought it quite possible to
+ raise a million worms in one season.

MULBERRIES OF Mt. VERNON

Probably with the intention of furnishing food for silk-worms,
and producing silk, George Washington in March, 1765, grafted
“fifteen English Mulberries on wild mulberry stocks” on the grounds
of his home at Mt. Vernon, Va. As Professor Sargent observes,
“there is no English Mulberry, and his scions may have been from a
Black or a White Mulberry, the Chinese tree which furnishes the
principal food for silk-worms.”

In 1785, Washington “planted all the Mulberry trees, Maple
trees and Black Gums in Serpentine Walk.” A White Mulberry,
sixty feet tall, with a circumference of three feet, three inches, is the
only one remaining in this area. In all likelihood, it is one of those
planted by the Father of his Country.

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MULBERRY F'AaRM

“Boxly,” the beautiful estate owned by Frederick Winslow
Taylor, at Highland Station, Philadelphia, Penn., was known, over
a century ago, as Mulberry Farm.

In 1803, the Count Du Barry, a friend of Joseph Bonaparte,
(brother of Napoleon), purchased the property, which even then
possessed historic interest, having been given by William Penn, in
1868, to Francis Daniel Pastorius, the founder of Germantown, Penn.
Du Barry was an enthusiast both in landscape gardening and silk
culture. He laid out the grounds of Mulberry Farm in imitation of
the gardens at Versailles, France, with statuary, arbors, rare shrubs
and flowers. The wonderful rows of boxwood, covering an area of six
hundred feet, and still in a flourishing condition, are of his planting.
The apple trees, French russets, brought from his own country, are
standing today; and as their lack of vitality is becoming apparent,
they are to be grafted upon young trees.

Hopeful for the success of the silk industry on his premises, Du
Barry planted the necessary trees, his Mulberry Walk surviving to
our own time as one of the features of the place. Two of the tiny
houses erected by him for the purpose of boiling the cocoons, still
remain, and between them is the old greenhouse, the front of which
he covered with French roses. But like other efforts at silk-raising
in the New World, his venture was doomed to failure, possibly on
account of unfavorable conditions of climate.

MULBERRIES OF McSHERRYSTOWN

About the middle of the last century, interest in silk-culture in
America had a brief revival. In Connecticut, several communities
engaged in this business, and on Frankford Road, near Philadelphia,
Penn., a Dutch family conducted it on a large scale.

A handsome avenue of mulberry trees leading to St. Joseph’s
Academy at McSherrystown, Penn., remains to tell the tale of similar
endeavor. About 1850, they were planted there, by the Ladies of
the Sacred Heart, the Sisterhood in charge. The trees flourished, but
as often happens in the case of experiments, “the patients died,” the
ae an that had been imported to feed upon their foliage, refusing
to thrive.

But though failing to fulfill their intended mission, the mulberries
with their grateful shade, have for many a year added beauty and
charm to the old convent garden. And in their early youth, these
trees witnessed stirring scenes. McSherrystown is practically on the
boundry between the North and South, and during the days of the
Civil War, soldiers passed through the little town on their way to
Gettysburg, Penn.

Pupils at the convent watched them straggling by, ragged and
footsore, and offered the men their own supper, eagerly handing it

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over the wooden paling. Next day, the Sisters’ only horse was com-
mandeered. At the protest of a neighbor’s boy, an officier ordered the
animal returned to them, and for safe keeping, the horse was stabled
in the convent kitchen. A few days later, he was the only horse avail-

able in the whole town to carry water to the wounded and dying on
the field of Gettysburg.

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CHAPTER XVIII

The Stuyvesant Pear—The Endicott Pear—The Old French Pear
Trees of Detroit—The Petre Pear—The Seckel Pear—Gavel
Made From Historic Trees—The Traveling Nursery.

Tuer STUYVESANT PEAR

In 1644, Governor Peter Stuyesant, of New York, planted a
pear tree upon the grounds of his country home, as a token “by which
his name might still be remembered”; the first instance on record in
American history, of the planting of a memorial tree.

The Governor’s desire has been fulfilled, for his pear tree, as well
as his name, has become immortal in the chronicles of both the city and
State of New York. The spot where the tree stood, (the northeast
corner of Third Avenue and 18th Street, New York) was rapidly
included in the growing city, and for two hundred years the old pear
- tree was a well known landmark. <A section of its trunk is on exhibi-
tion at the rooms of the New York Historical Society, and a part of
one of its limbs is preserved at City Hall. A shoot from the old pear
was grafted upon a tree at the Ryder Farm at Ossining, N. Y.

Tue Enpicort PEAR

Still bearing plentifully “more fruit than the whole town can
eat,” the Endicott Pear tree at Danversport, Mass., is nearing the
completion of its third century.

Authorities differ as to the exact time of its planting, which
however, probably occurred about 1630, during the period when Gov-
ernor Endicott, one.of the earliest settlers of the Bay State, was
importing a large number of trees to beautify his home grounds.
James Raymond Simmons tells us that “there is not much left of
beauty . . . about the venerable tree which still maintains its layer
of living bark from year to year, around a hollow trunk, and still drops
down its golden fruit into the laps of Endicott’s grateful descendants
and admirers. . . . Soil has gradually collected about the trunk until
the two main branches appear to rise from the ground as separate
trees. They evidently join under a heavy covering of sod . . . it is
one of the most quaint and strangely impressive of all the historic
trees.”

Tue Oxvp Frencu Pear TREES oF DETROIT

In Water Works Park, Detroit, Mich., stands an ancient pear
tree, whose age is estimated to be at least two hundred years. It is
the sole survivor of a farm, owned by a Frenchman who named the
twelve “mission pears” on his land after the twelve apostles.

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Not ordinary pear trees, these, or the others of the neighborhood,
or their descendants, in any sense of the word; whether in point of
size, quality of fruit produced, or reputed origin. Supposed to have been
brought there by the early settlers, from Montreal, whether they had
been imported from Normandy or Provence, they have been described
as “the crowning glory” of the French-American orchard which was
justly famed for more than one kind of superior fruit. Nearly every
home possessed a pear tree. “Such was its size and productiveness
that one specimen usually amply supplied the wants of a family.”
Strangely enough, the pears refused to grow, it is said, anywhere but
in the region of Detroit and one other locality. In 1786, Colonel
Francis Navarre, of Monroe, planted half a dozen or more on his farm
on the Raisin River, where they flourished. One was noted for attain-
ing a circumference of nine feet, two inches, and at four feet above
the ground its trunk forked, one branch growing to a circumference
of seven feet. four inches, and the other, five feet.

The old French pear trees were still conspicuous on the bank of
the Detroit River, in 1887, when Bela Hubbard described some of
them as eight or nine feet in girth, and eighty feet tall, prophesying,
however, that their time was short, and that they would perish along
with their old homesteads “which are so fast disappearing. Another
half century will see the last of those magnificent trees—the pride of
the French orchard; the mammoth of fruits, of which the world does
not afford its equal.”

The veteran tree in Water Works Park still yields thirty to fifty
bushels of fine pears annually. It is one hundred and thirty feet high,
and measures four feet around the trunk. Seedlings from it refuse
to grow, and this “gnarled remnant” of a proud race bids fair to
leave no successor to its former glory.

There is a quaint legend concerning the origin of the trees, which
tells how their career began in the garden of an early Jesuit Mission,
near the site of Detroit. The old priest sat looking out over the blue
waters of the river, wondering why assistance was not sent to him in
his arduous labors, in response to his earnest request. Lifting his
eyes, he saw a young stranger approaching, a Frenchman, bringing
with him a letter from the Superior of the Order. It contained a
brief history of the young foreigner, who had fallen hopelessly in love
with one of his countrywomen. She was unhappily married, and in
retaliation for her lover’s attentions, was murdered by her husband.
Heart-broken, the former was seeking some means of forgetting his
grief. “Put him to work,” urged the letter, “and work him as hard
as you will, or his life will be wasted.”

The Father complied, and found the newcomer a valuable assis-
tant, eager to fulfill all his duties. Often, however, at sunset, he would
stand alone, looking wistfully over the river, and fondling a withered
pear-blossom which he had brought from his home-land.

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Watching him long and thoughtfully, the old priest sought for
the right word to speak, and at length suggested that he should plant
the seeds hidden in the faded flower, and let them bring forth rich
fruit for the good of the community, and thus do what was in his
power to atone for his “unblest affection.”

*“In thy withered pear lies dormant
Nature’s power to bloom and bless
This unfruitful wilderness.

Here is healing for thy torment!
Many and many a voice of prayer
Long may bless thy withered pear.

Thus, like souls redeemed from sin,
Did the mission pears begin

In the ancient Jesuit garden;

And the shoots, as they ascended,
Prayerfully were watched and tended
Till the wood could grow and harden,
Often, in their early years,

Watered by repentant tears.”

Tut Petre PEAR

In Bartram’s Garden, Philadelphia, Penn., a small, gnarled pear
tree perpetuates the memory of Lady Petre, of England, who, in
1760, sent it across seas to the famous botanist. It was planted close
by the quaint old house on the Schuylkill, that during his life-time was
a centre of hospitality, and where noted men were often entertained.
Owing to the generosity of Lord Peter, the Duke of Richmond and
Peter Collinson, who justly subscribed a fund for the purpose, Bartram
was able to continue the expeditions which he had begun in order to
collect and classify the plants of the New World, returning to the
donors the equivalent in roots and seeds.

Tue SECKEL PEAR

The original Seckel pear tree grew on a strip of land called The
Neck, five miles south of Philadelphia, Penn., on the property of
Lawrence Seckel, a prominent wine merchant of the city. The place,
which was his country seat, was later owned by the well known citizen,
Stephen Girard. It was near Wilton, a famous watering-place prior
to the Revolution.

In 1819, Dr. Hosack sent some of the small “spicy and honeyed”
fruit to the London Horticultural Society, which rated them as
“exceeding in flavor the richest of the autumn pears.” The doctor
stated that this unique tree had first become known in Philadelphia
about seventy years before.

Where the tree came from, no one knew, not even Mr. Secket
himself. About the middle of the 18th Century the Swedes, Dutch
and Germans imported a great number of trees, shrubs and flowers
from the Old World, and it was supposed that the far-famed Seckel
pear had found its entrance into the country in this way.

*From poem by J. L. Bates.
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The site where the Seckel home once stood is now “a region given
over to the growth of plethoric cabbages, endless tomatoes, and onions
infinite.” Near the old farm-house is a white post which marks the
location of the Seckel pear, the tree itself having succumbed to a
wind-storm in 1905. A shoot from it was grafted upon a tree nearer
the house.

GAVEL Mave From Historic TREES

The fashioning from historic wood, of a gavel, presented to the
Fifth Pacific Coast Congress of Congregational Churches, held in
Portland, Ore., in 1911, has brought to light some interesting facts in
connection with the material used. Each piece of wood in the gavel
was numbered to correspond with a printed list of descriptions. Two
of the sections were taken from fruit trees, an apple and a cherry,
representing events in the history of the early settlements of the great
North West.

One of these was from a seedling apple, a tree which grew neai
the Hudson Bay Company’s Fort, Vancouver, now Vancouver,
Wash., from seed brought from London to that place in 1825. Mrs,
Narcissa Prentiss Whitman, one of the two first American women to
cross the plains to Oregon, arrived at Fort Vancouver on September
12, 1836, and her husband, Dr. Marcus Whitman, and her traveling
companions—Rev. Henry H. Spalding, Mrs. Eliza Hart Spalding
and William H. Gray—were entertained by Dr. John McLoughlin,
Chief Factor of the Hudson Bay Company. Mrs. Whitman, in her
diary under the date above mentioned, made the following entry:

“What a delightful place this is; what a contrast to the rough,
barren sand plains through which we have so recently passed. Here
we find fruit of every description—apples, peaches, grapes, pears,
plums and fig trees in abundance; also cucumbers, melons, beans, peas,
beets, cabbage, tomatoes, and every kind of vegetable, too numerous
to be mentioned. Eivery part is very neat and tastefully arranged,
with fine walks, lined on each side with strawberry vines. At the
opposite end of the garden is a good summer house covered with grape
vines. Here I must mention the origin of these grapes and apples.
A gentleman, twelve years ago, while at a party in London, put seeds
of the grapes and apples which he ate into his vest pocket; soon after-
wards he took a voyage to this country and left them here, and now
they are greatly multiplied.”

Tue TRAvELING NURSERY

The piece of cherry wood used in the gavel is of the variety known
as the Royal Ann, and acquaintance with it opens up a little known
page in the development of the western fruit industry. The Royal
Ann, in company with seven hundred other fruit trees, belonged to
the Traveling Nursery, which was brought across the plains in 1847,
by Henderson Lewelling, of Salem, Henry County, Iowa,

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Though repeatedly warned that his undertaking was hopeless,
Lewelling persisted in his cherished scheme of establishing a nursery
in the “densely wooded North West,” many leading varieties of apples
and pears, some plums and cherries, one Isabella grape vine and one
gooseberry plant were among the trees and shrubs, which packed in
carefully prepared soil, were loaded upon his wagon and ox-teams.

Journeying through “dry, thirsty land and over lofty mountain
ranges,” he reached Milwaukee, Wis., about October 1, 1847, with
most of the trees alive. There he established his first nursery, and
continued his way to the Pacific Coast.

Ralph Geer, another pioneer of that same year, says, “That load
of trees contained health, wealth and comfort for the old pioneers of
Oregon. It was the mother of all the orchards west of the Rocky
Mountains, and gave Oregon a name and fame that she never would
have had without it. ‘That load of living trees brought more wealth
to Oregon than any ship that ever entered the Columbia River.”

Incidentally, Lewelling founded. during his travels, four towns
by the name of Salem, in memory of his birthplace; Salem, N. C.,
Salem, O., Salem, Ind., Salem, Iowa, and Salem, Ore., all owe their
origin to him.

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CHAPTER XIX
Johnny Appleseed and His Trees—Roger Williams’ Apple Tree.

JOHNNY APPLESEED AND His TREES

During the years from 1806 to 1830, John Chapman, familiarly
known as “Johnny Appleseed,” one of the most unique philan-
thropists known to history, was engaged in his self-imposed mission of
planting apple trees for the benefit of the earliest settlers in Ohio.
Going in advance of civilization, unarmed and unafraid, amidst the
perils of the wilderness, it was his ambition to have the fruit-trees
flourishing to greet the influx of pioneers, who, but for his unselfish
thought and work, would sadly have missed the accustomed orchards
of their homeland.

“He began his apple mission in Pennsylvania in 1802 or 18038,”
says A. J. Baughman, one of his historians, “but soon transferred his
field to Ohio. He made frequent visits to the Keystone State for
apple seeds, and on his return selected favorable spots for his pioneer
nurseries. He sought fertile soil and sheltered places, and often made
clearings to give his tender shoots protection from wind and blizzard.
As one section of the State became supplied with trees, he moved to
another.

“The early settlers were too busy in wresting a livelihood from
nature and in fighting Indians, to engage in the slow process of rais-
ing apple trees from seed, and Chapman, full of faith in the virtue of
the fruit, took upon himself the duty of supplying the need. Usually
aman of few words, he became eloquent when speaking of apples, and
his fine flow of language gave the impression that he had been well
educated.”

He planted his first nursery ‘at Lagrange, O., opposite Wells-
burg, W. V. After planting others along the Ohio River, he con-
tinued into Richland County, where he made his home in a little cabin
for several years. “Johnny Appleseed,” as he had been affectionately
christened by the inhabitants, now had his hands full.

Planting orchards in a number of counties, he made the rounds,
yearly, traveling hundreds of miles to prune and care for his trees,
which were generally planted on or near streams, and protected with a
brush fence. An inestimable blessing they must have been to the
pioneers, a pleasant welcome in the midst of unfriendly surround-
ings. Johnny’s price for a tree was usually, “fip penny-bit,” or he
would give credit or accept clothes in exchange.

The Ohio Archaeological and Historical Quarterly has repro-
duced an autograph order of Chapman’s which reads as follows:

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“Due John Cheever one hundred and fifty trees
when he goes for them to some of my nurseries
on Mohecan waters.”

“JoHN CHAPMAN.”

It is doubtful that any of “Johnny’s” trees have survived to
the present day, but to quote from General Roeliff Brinkerhoff’s
Mansfield, O., “Within the sound of my voice, where I now stand
there are a dozen or more trees that we believe are the lineal
descendants of Johnny Appleseed’s nurseries. In fact, this monu-
ment is almost within the shadow of three or four of them.” Rich-
land County owned all of its early orchards to the nurseries of the
“Apostle of Apples” as he has been called. In the woods, he sowed
various medical plants.

Johnny was a welcome guest in many homes, but much of his
time was, necessarily spent in journeys through the forest, from the
site of one orchard to another. His dress was peculiar. He went
barefoot, and often wore a coffee sack, with hole cut for his head and
arms, instead of a coat. He took with him a bundle of cooking
utensils, often wearing his mush-pan for a hat. Occasionally, how-
ever, he wore one made of cardboard, with a broad brim. But no
weapon of any description was among his effects. Neither savage nor
animal would harm the gentle horticulturist, the former looking upon
him as a great “Medicine Man.”

He loved and reverenced life in its lowest forms as well as in
its higher manifestations, and it has been said that he “deserved to
be the patron saint of the Humane Society, of which he was cer-
tainly the earliest forerunner.” He purchased any animal that he
saw ill-treated, any worn out horses, turned away to starve, and
found for them homes where they were kindly cared for. “It is
further recorded,” says Mr. E. O. Randall, “that he would never sell
these poor and despised animals, but if any of them recovered their
strength so as to be valuable, he would lend them or give them away,
exacting a promise from the recipient that the dumb beast should ever
receive kind treatment.”

The friend of every living creature, he was willing to journey
thirty miles through the forest to obtain help for his fellow men when
Mansfield, O., was threatened with an Indian raid, or to relinquish a
night’s shelter in a hollow log rather than disturb the frightened
squirrel who had housed her family inside.

In his later years, Chapman found a new field for his planting
in Indiana, where he died, in 1847, at the age of seventy-two. It has
been said “that although years have come and gone since his death, the
memory of his good deeds lives anew every springtime in the beauty
and fragrance of the blossoms of the apple trees he loved so well.

Rocer WituiaAMs’ APPLE TREE
There are tall and stately trees in Rhode Island, still casting
102

their welcome shade, that were saplings in the days of Roger
Williams, nearly three hundred years ago; and tradition credits him
with planting the Congdon Street American elm, one of the best
known trees of Providence, though the story is not considered
authentic. Strangely enough, it is an old apple tree with which he
had no association in life, that remains inseparably linked with his
memory.

In 1636, Roger Williams, one of the most famous of the pioneers
who came from England to the New World in quest of civil and
religious freedom, settled in Rhode Island. Boston, where he had
lived for a few years, proved a dangerous place for a man of his
liberal views, which were little to the liking of the Puritans. Chief
among his offenses was his refusal to acknowledge the right of the
Commonwealth either to punish for spiritual delinquencies or to bar
everyone except church members from voting on civil affairs, while
at the same time, all, irrespective of creed, were taxed to support the
church.

He had already left Boston for Salem, Mass., when the au-
thorities pronounced a sentence of banishment upon him and sent a
sloop to take him back to England.

Aware of the fate that was planned for him, however, Williams
escaped from Salem to Narragansett Bay, wisely selecting a place
free “from any English claims or patents.” There is a tradition to
the effect that, as he and his little party sailed down Seekonk River
and rounded “Slate Rock,” some friendly Indians called out, “What
cheer, Netop?”

Near the Mooshausick River, he and his companions founded
Providence, the first settlement in Rhode Island. As he stated in the
deed drawn in 1661, he “desired it might be for a shelter for persons
distressed in conscience.” Everyone who settled there was required
to sign a statement that he pledged himself to submit to its govern-
ment “only in civil things.”

When Roger Williams’ noble life-work ended, in 1684, he was
buried in a spot selected by himself, on the hill-side near his first
landing.

In after years, when the growth of the town rendered it neces-
sary to remove the bodies of the early settlers interred there, it was
found that an apple tree had sent its roots into his grave, and that
they had followed the outline of the human form. This curious
occurrence has been twice commemorated in verse.

M. E. Buhler speaks of the great pioneer’s character as follows:

“All that he bad he used, to give

That others might more freely live—
In life and death he gave;

For when his valiant soul went free

Whose passion was for liberty,

His dust became an apple tree
Above his empty grave.

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Its roots so quaintly human form
Had grown thro’ sunshine and thro’ storm,
Beside the grassy spring,
And its great boughs bent down to shield
The wayworn pilgrim and to yield
Sweet fruit and comforting.”

It has been often and truly said that there is only a step between
the sublime and the ridiculous, and the familiar words are well illus-
trated.in the “skit” by Charles T. Miller, published in 1874, humor-
ously tracing the influence of Williams’ indomitable spirit, down
through the historic Dorr Rebellion into modern times.

“Did you ever hear the story told

Of Roger Williams, the preacher bold,

Who settled this State in the days of old,
This little State of Rhode Island?

In sixteen hundred and thirty-six,

Roger Williams got into a fix,

By saucing the Governor of Massachusetts,
And skedaddled away to Rhode Island.

He crossed, as everybody knew,
Seekonk River in a birch canoe;
Just to save the tolls that were dus
On the bridges above and below him.

The college boats are always out,

They’d have taken him over, I haven’t a doubt;
But Roger was mad and stuffed it out

And “paddled his own canoe.”

When on Slate Rock a footing was found,
The Abby Origenes were sitting around;
And Roger, thinking he’d like to sit down,
He quietly asked, “What cheer?”

The Indians thought it exceedingly cool,

And said, “We have neither chairs nor stool;
So sit down on the rock, you fussy old fool,
As all the rest of us do.”

By the sweat of his brow, I’ve heard it said,
He paid his way and earned his bread;
And when he gets sufficiently dead,

They'll put a monument over him.

They buried him carefully, away from harm,
In a quiet old orchard on his own farm,
’Twas right in back of Governor Dorr’s barn,—
And supposed that he’d keep quiet.

But a jolly old apple tree rooting around,
Seeking for phosphates under the ground,
Followed his back-bone all the way down,
And old Mother William’s too.

What’s bred in the bone, in the flesh will show,
What’s bred in the root, the fruit will know;
For two hundred years this fruit did grow
"Till posterity ate him up.

In ‘forty-two he got up a war

By having got into Governor Door,

By eating the apples, just as you saw;

So there was another row.

*Tis Williams’ fault, as we all know now,
Apples have always caused a row

From Adam’s time, way down to now;

So they dug Mr. Williams up.

So they dug up the roots and the coffin nails,
To be planted again in boxes or pails;

And unless a big stone monument fails,

This time they’ll keep him down.”

104