HENRY c. Mcdowell and ashland 



oak. The only time that Chas. Backman joined 

 one of the visiting parties to Kentucky he saw at 

 Woodlake a burr oak of gigantic proportions — the 

 largest tree upon which his eyes had ever rested. It 

 was quite a lively party, and, after dinner in the 

 Capitol Hotel at Frankfort, some of the young 

 members obtained access to a suite of rooms reserved 

 for the Court of Appeals and donned the robes of 

 office and passed severe sentences on their elders 

 who were brought before them for trial. Major Mc- 

 Dowell had dined In the private car with us and 

 had accompanied us to the hotel, and he mildly pro- 

 tested against the Invasion of the judicial suite. For 

 making this protest, he was sentenced to provide a 

 breakfast for the entire party. We were up early 

 and the seven-mile drive to Woodlake sharpened 

 appetites. We found Major McDowell In bed, but 

 he hastily dressed himself, and at ten o'clock the 

 hungry delegation sat down to a breakfast which 

 none of the survivors of the feast have ever forgot- 

 ten. The breakfast wines were a revelation to some 

 of the epicurean palates. Major McDowell took 

 pardonable pride in the quality of his vintages. 

 Woodlake was known as a breeding farm before It 

 passed Into the possession of Major McDowell. It 

 was the home of the famous thoroughbreds. Grey 

 Eagle and Rudolph, prior to the advent of the trot- 

 ters. My last visit to Woodlake was in the latter 

 part of March, 1882, and when I stepped from the 

 carriage with Mr. Robert Bonner, and we looked ou^ 



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