THE MEADOW PARK AT GENESEO. 



165 



eye — say a thousand acres — is a yark^ full 

 of the finest oaks, — and such oaks as you 

 may have dreamed of, (if you love trees,) or, 

 perhaps, have seen in pictures by Claude 

 Lorraine, or our own Durand ; but not in 

 the least like those which you meet every 

 day in your woodland walks through the 

 country at large. Or rather, there are thou- 

 sands of such as you may have seen half a 

 dozen examples of in your own county. 



And they are not only grand, majestic, 

 magnificent, noble trees — these oaks, — but 

 they are grouped and arranged just as you, 

 a lover of the beautiful, and we, a land- 

 scape-gardener, would have had them ar- 

 ranged, if we had had the taste of Sir Hum- 

 phrey Repton and the wand of an en- 

 chanter, and had attempted to make a bit 

 of country after our own heart. 



No underwood, no bushes, no thickets; 

 nothing but single specimens or groups of 

 giant old oaks, (mingled with, here and 

 there, an elm,) with level glades of broad 

 meadow beneath them ! An Englishman 

 will hardly be convinced that it is not a 

 park, planted by the skilful hand of man 

 hundreds of years ago. 



This great meadow park is filled with 

 herds of the finest cattle — the pride of the 

 home-farm. The guest at Geneseo takes 

 his seat in the carriage, or forms one of a 

 party on horseback, for the afternoon drive 

 over the ^^ flats," as the Genesee valley is 

 called. 



Thus in readiness, you follow no roads, — 

 none are needed, indeed ; for the surface 

 of the great meadow park, for the most 

 part, is so smooth and level that you drive 

 here and there, to any point of interest, as 

 you please. To us, first of all, the trees 

 themselves, — many, beautiful in their rich 

 masses of foliage ; many, grand in their 

 wonderful breadth of head and branches ; 

 and some, majestic and venerable in their 



great size and hoary old age. Near the 

 bank of the river still stands the great oak 

 " Big Tree,"* under which the first treaty 

 was signed between the Indians and the 

 first settlers of Geneseo. Its enormous 

 trunk measures 65 feet in circumference. 

 It still wears a healthy crown of leaves, and 

 is preserved with all the venerati n which 

 an object that awakens the sentiment of 

 antiquity inspires in a new country. Not 

 far from it stands the stump of a contempo- 

 rary, destroyed a few seasons before by the 

 elements. The annual rings of its trunk 

 tell the story of nine hundred years growlh ! 



You hear a loud shout from one of 

 the party on horseback. Immediately the 

 groups of cattle, quietly grazing in the 

 park, raise their heads and rush from all 

 quarters like a herd of mad buffaloes to- 

 wards your party! Do not be alarmed; 

 for, strange as it may seem to you, they are 

 most peaceably inclined, and are only gal- 

 loping round you at the well known call of 

 their master, who has accustomed them to 

 this little exhibition. You are now invited 

 to alight, if you are fond of fine stock, and 

 look at the good points of the cattle. And 

 there is, among the many fine specimens 

 around you, quite enough to drive all 

 thoughts of an afternoon's nap from the 

 head of the most indifferent breeder in the 

 country. 



What is the solution, you ask, as you 

 resume your drive again, of the mystery of 

 this peculiar growth of the trees in this 

 great natural park ? Has Nature, who usu- 

 ally sows bushes and briars in thicket 

 and underwood amid the forest, taken it 

 into her head to set an example here to 

 planters of parks, and allowed only gigan- 



* " Big Tree," was the name of the Indian chief, of the 

 tribe which originally lived in ih's part of the Genesee country. 

 The old chieftain has long since gone to the eternal "hunt- 

 ing- ground" of his fathers; but the tree; which was venera, 

 ble in his earliest youth, still survives him, and preserves liis 

 memory. 



