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." 



The 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." 



Hamilton'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. 



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