December 10, 193 6 



HARDWOOD RECORD 



23 



bition was realized and he received his commission as a lieutenant 

 in the regular army. A man older than his years, reticent — a man 

 of action rather than words — he left the spring and the Walnut 

 tree, left with them his dreams, to carve for himself a name among 

 soldiers and leaders. 



For nearly fifty years his home was in the saddle, at the camp- 

 fire. One campaign led to another — the War of 1812, the long 

 campaign against the Seminoles of Florida, the pursuit of Black 

 Hawk, the War with Mexico. The old homestead saw little of him, 

 yet here he came between campaigns, and here he installed his 

 bride. As the years went by sturdier did his character become, 

 stronger and more unflinching his spirit, more dauntless his cour- 

 age. There developed a sterling honesty, a fairness to every man, 

 a desire to do his full duty — qualities that will live side by side 

 with his deeds of valor. As each storm twisted and strengthened 

 and beautified the Walnut he had left to guard the spring, so 

 each campaign seemed to toughen Zachary Taylor's spirit, while 

 s.t the same time it refined it. 



For nearly fifty 

 years he served his 

 country, and for 

 nearly all of that 

 time he was scarce- 

 ly known to the 

 vast majority of 

 the people. The in- 

 dividual who would 

 stand alone has lit- 

 tle time to seek 

 popular favor. He 

 must be doing, not 

 seeking. But at 

 last there came the 

 Mexican War and 

 with it Santa Anna. 

 He had weathered 

 the big storm, he 

 had come through 

 clean, and the 

 people, recognizing 

 the fiber and grain 

 of the man, insisted 

 that he take as his 

 just reward their 

 highest office. It 

 was not his seek- 

 ing. He fain would 

 have returned to 

 Springfield and 



there spent the remainder of his days; to walk down the old path 

 to the spring, to sit daily beneath the Walnut, now grown strong 

 and rugged. But the people would not be denied, and General 

 Taylor became President Taylor. 



The soldier was not a statesman. He was used to dealing man 

 to man, fighting in the open and then making of his enemy his 

 friend. He could not understand the bickerings of politicians, the 

 wire pulling, the Star Chamber diplomacy. He had already given 

 his best to his country, and it was less than a year after he went 

 to Washington that the Walnut tree saw him come home again. 

 But this time it was a different coming, a coming marked by muf- 

 fled drums and solemn tread. He died as he had lived — a soldier, 

 wishing only that he might have rendered his country greater 

 service. 



Zachary Taylor was laid at rest almo t in the shadow of the 

 Walnut. For nearly three generations it watched that resting 

 place. For nearly three generations it kept silent vigil, drinking in 

 the sunshine, buffeting the storm, keeping the faith. It had grown 

 as he had grown, developed as he had developed. As he had 

 strengthened the inner man through turning disaster into triumph, 

 rout into victory, so it, through breasting the storms, overcoming 



PARLOR IN THE TAYLOR HOMESTEAD AT "SPRINGFIELD" WHERE JEFFERSON DAVIS 

 AND ZACHARr TAYLOR'S DAUGHTER WERE MARRIED 



the enemies that would sap its life, grew strong with him. Each 

 year since his going the old Walnut had remained true to its ideal. 

 Each year it had compressed and tempered its fibers; each year it 

 had transformed sapwood into heartwood, writing thereon another 

 chapter of achievement. 



All things must end. To each is given his skein of years, on the 

 last strand of which is written "Finis." Even trees have their 

 "threescore and ten" — Kature plays no favorites. As the call came 

 to Zachary Taylor, so it came to his Walnut under which he had 

 dreamed — the tree that had watched over him for so long. Yester- 

 day it was a Walnut tree that stood by a spring, that brought forth 

 its buds in the late winter, that dropped its fruit and its leaves 

 in the autumn. Today the tree is no more. Yet by the art of man 

 it has been transformed into a series of wonder pictures done by 

 that great artist. Nature — pictures worthy of panelling baronial 

 halls. 



A few weeks ago the present owner of ' ' Springfield, ' ' Dr. John 

 A. Brady, placed the old Walnut in the hands of the C. C. Mengel & 



Bro. Company of 

 Louisville. This 

 firm, specialist in 

 fine woods, has 

 worked it into 

 veneers that ex- 

 p e r t s pronounce 

 among the finest 

 and most beautiful 

 ever cut in this 

 country. 



As the old tree 

 was cut and the 

 heart scroll unrolled 

 it was seen that the 

 Walnut had re- 

 corded there its 

 ■very triumph. In 

 twisted grain, in 

 ' url and burl, in 

 liigh-light and 

 shadow was written 

 its life history. As 

 the true character 

 of a man lies deep 

 in his heart, so here 

 on the heart of the 

 Walnut is spread, 

 not only a diary of 

 achievement, but 

 the beauty and re- 

 escutcheon without a 



finement resulting from that attainment — an 

 blemish. 



Is it possible that man can be reflected in nature? In many an 

 old wife and husband, who reach the end of the road together, we 

 find a likeness in looks and character. Hawthorne, in one of his 

 stories, tells of the boy who, living in the valley, each day gazed 

 on the gentle, kindly face of the old man, which, softened by dis- 

 tance, was outlined in the rugged side of the mountain. The boy 

 grew to be a man, the man became an old man, yet each morning 

 he looked to the face, each evening watched it fade with the sunset. 

 And when at last death claimed him, those who saw his face in 

 repose saw there the kindly face of the Old Man of the Mountain. 



The ancients believed all nature animate — each tree and way- 

 side flower had its spirit — the Oracles lived in trees — the Druids 

 had their temples in the oak groves. It may be foolish imagery, 

 yet what more happy than the thought that the Walnut that grew 

 by the spring had its spirit — a spirit that watched over and emu- 

 lated Zachary Taylor, who had talked to it, loved it as a boy. The 

 Walnut had watched him grow from green Lieutenant to tried Gen- 

 eral, from laughing child to twelfth President. Perhaps its spirit had 

 suffered when he had suffered, endured when he endured, developed 



