You have all heard of the "Charter Oak" at Hartford, Connecticut; it became famous in 1687, just five years after Penn's treaty with the Indians in Pennsylvania. King James sent a proud, tyrannical man from England as Governor of Connecticut, called Sir Edmund Andros, who on his arrival at Boston immediately demanded the surrender of the charter of Connecticut. Of course he was refused, and nearly a year went by, every day of which proved him to be more masterful, and unworthy the trust and confidence of the people. So at last, in October, 1687, he took a company of soldiers and went to Hartford, where the Assembly met, and again demanded from the people their charter. He was received with great politeness, and calmly listened to until candle-light, when the charter was brought out and laid upon the table around which the Assembly sat. Sir Edmund was just about to seize it, when the lights were suddenly put out, and there was a great tumult and much confusion, and before the candles could be relit, one Captain Wadsworth, of Hartford, seized the charter, and, unseen, carried it off, and put it into the hollow trunk of a large oak-tree near. Of course Sir Edmund was very angry, but no one could or would tell where the charter was, and his lordship had to go back without it. The Hartford people are very proud of their oak, and I am sure some of you have seen the piano made from it after it had been blown down in 1856. The Vice-President's chair in the Senate-Chamber at Washington is also made of the Charter Oak, and many other things, which, perhaps, some of you own.
At the corner of what is now Washington and Essex streets, Boston, there stood a large elm-tree, in 1765, called the "Tree of Liberty." Under its branches a society calling themselves the "Sons of Liberty" held meetings against taxation and oppression of all kinds from the English government. Sir Francis Bernard, the royal Governor at that time, had not interfered with them for fear of serious consequences, and so, early on the morning of August 14, 1765, several of the Sons of Liberty hung two effigies, or pictures, from a limb of Liberty Tree, one of which was a likeness of Andrew Oliver, Secretary of the Colony, and the newly appointed stamp distributer for Massachusetts, and the other represented Lord Bute as the devil peeping out of an enormous boot. Crowds gathered around the tree all day, and at night the effigies were cut down and carried in a great procession through the streets, while the people cried out, "Liberty and prosperity forever! No stamps! No taxation without our consent!" Four months after that, the people made Andrew Oliver go under Liberty Tree and publicly read his resignation. This famous elm of liberty was cut down in 1775 by the British soldiers, exactly ten years to the month after the Sons of Liberty had decorated its branches with the pictures of Andrew Oliver and Lord Bute. The soldiers made fire-wood of Liberty elm, and got fourteen good cords from it.
The same year that the Sons of Liberty were gathering under Liberty Tree in Boston, the Declaration of Independence was read and meetings were held under a splendid live-oak at Charleston, South Carolina, which the people also called Liberty Tree, and decorated in very nearly the same manner as the Boston Liberty Tree. It also was cut down and burned by the British in 1780, five years after the one in Boston. Many canes and a ballot-box were made from what was left of it, but the box was destroyed in the great fire at Charleston in 1838.
An oak brought from the forest and planted in an open field at Norwich was Connecticut's Liberty Tree, and under it meetings were held. On the celebration of the repeal of the Stamp Act, its branches were hung with appropriate devices, and it was crowned with an enormous Phrygian cap. A tent was erected under it, and here the people gathered to hear the news, and to encourage each other in resisting every kind of oppression.
One morning, the 3d of July, 1775, General Washington, accompanied by the officers of his staff, walked under the shadow of a magnificent elm-tree which grew near the entrance of his quarters at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and which is still standing, made a few remarks, drew his sword, and took command of the American army. This elm is famous also as the tree under which the celebrated preacher Whitefield preached to those who had a much harder battle to fight with themselves and the Evil One than Washington and his brave soldiers, who fought for liberty and gained it.
If any of my readers ever visit Fort Mercer, at Red Bank, New Jersey, they may perhaps still see the remains of an old hickory-tree that was used for a flag-staff during the battle of Fort Mercer in 1777.
The only trees left standing on Rhode Island after the British had occupied it in 1779 were two sycamores, which were preserved as long as possible by the owner of the land on which they grew.
When Lafayette visited Yorktown in 1824, the people made a crown of laurel, which they took from a beautiful tree that grew near the place where they received him, and put it upon his head, with many assurances of love and respect; but he took it from his head, and stepping forward, placed it upon the brow of Colonel Nicholas Fish, of the Revolution, who was present, saying as he did it, "No one is better entitled to wear this mark of honor than our friend."
Peter Stuyvesant, the last and most renowned of the Governors of New Amsterdam (now New York) while it belonged to the Dutch, brought from Holland many fruit and flower trees for the garden which surrounded his house of yellow brick that stood near Tenth Street and Second Avenue. One of these, a pear tree, which he planted in 1647, on what is now the corner of Thirteenth Street and Third Avenue was still in existence in 1868, and bore fruit until very near that time. Many of the pears have been preserved in liquor as curiosities, and I have a little friend who has a wreath made of the leaves pulled from the old tree and the one planted after it had been blown down. Both are now dead, and there is nothing left to show where this famous landmark used to be.
At Fort Edward, on the Hudson, there once stood a beautiful balm-of-Gilead-tree, under which a little Indian boy gave to a wounded soldier, during the Revolution, his last crust of bread, saying as he did so, "I am a warrior's son; I want nothing." The soldier adopted him, and took him to England with him, but he came back, married a daughter of the same officer, and it is not long since I saw one of his descendants, who are very proud of their Indian ancestor.