The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-05-14
Linked With History
Companion of Youth,
Hero of Battles.

was the site of the Governors man
sion, erected about 1910, and used by
the governors as homo IN to the
end of the Civil War, it's last occu-
pant being Vance as war Governor"
When the Yankees came in 1865, the
old mansion was seized for their use,
and since then no Governor of the
/ State has occupied it, Governor
Vance, in his second term living in
the residence later occupied by the
late Mr.. Pulaski Cowper.
During those years, when the old
mansion was the centre of the social
and political activity of the State in
the days of Bragg and Graham,
| Moorehead and Vance. this old tree
was one Of the most attractive fea-
lures of the grounds. Through it's
| associations it stood i'm Il sense for a
great part of the formative period
of the State for it's flood tide of ante
bellum civilization; for the hours Of
its stress in war, for the period of
| reconstruction and its slow revival to
life and health.
And later, when beautifully char
acteristc of the new era and the
realization of the fact that the hope
of the State lay in the people and in
l the boys who must be fashioned into
men, the old Governors mansion, the
scene of receptions and balls and coun-
ellis of State, came to be converted
Unto the first public graded school of
the city, it was the old oak that stood
for the pauses Of work, that gave the
comfort Of it's shade and protected the
playground for hundreds of the men
who have since contributed to the
very life blood of Raleigh and the
State.
And now the old tree is down. prone
upon the earth, the early sun flashing
In Il lV
which it had been wont to lose Itself
in the leaves. The sod in which it had
| SO long struck it's mighty roots is torn
with the struggle of it's up-tearing.
The children Will come to the school
no longer now the old mansion but
new building, and there will be moth
ing to link the new to the old in the
school or the grounds. No more will
the space at it's trunk be whitened
and packed hard with childrens feet;
no more will the marble rings be
drawn in crude circles between it's pro-
truding roots; no longer will the nine
wait its turn at the bat flushed and
tanning beneath its gentle shadow; no
more will the spirit of the oak peer
ing down with the eyes of age, saga
cious and yet understanding in sym
pathy, smile OH young happiness be-
low; no more viii its soft voices of the
breeze lure the dreams of childhood
to long travels into the unknown no
more will its secretive ears listen and
hold and repeat to other generations
in new spring times the old romanCes,
the universal castles in the air, crude
in construction, and still the neceSsi-
ties of a bold and progressive race!
The old tree is down. Oh, the bat
ties it had waged victorious in its GEN.
turtles of life, against wind and storm
and snow and ice and living bolts Of
flame from summers passions! How
| it had bent and lodged as long ago in
the forest, it had pushed UP its slim
body to the sky. How as it's fellows
passed away. 1t grew and brOadened
and spread it's arms abroad, and gave
defiance to the elements. trusting its
strength against the world and the
forces that in it work. Almost it
seemed that the old oak gloried in q
fight. How it braced it's stiff spine
against the blast! How it shook it's
mighty limbs in the face of the storm!
How in the mad Whirling of the winds,
it seemed to join like a living thing,
caught for a moment with the de-
lerium of motion. waving them on and
dallying with them as they passed.
But ne was getting old. this mighty
oak, big as was his trunk, strong Us
were his arms. Too long had he stay
ed in the game. The hour had struck.
the wind and the rain against the beat
ing sun. The clouds massed them
selves in rolling columns of black
passion, green at the heart, torn
amongst themselves. on they came,
blotting out the sun, drawing into the
vortex of their tumult all the breezes
of the land. Lightnings played about
the heart of it testing their swords.
Its thunders shouted their might. A
brooding stiffness fell. Birds tWIttering
flew to the branches of the old oak the
darkness came. Nature awaited the
insane anger Of the storm to break.
In the midst of the hush, the old oak
stood silent, its smallest leaf waiting
still and confident, COntemptuOuS
against the racket approaching with 50
much show of force. And then it
struck. Like old times it was to the
oak ashing, crying aloud amid the
fury of the wind, and the pelting Of
the rain. Leaves Whirled in clouds
around its head, tWigs and small limbs
Uttered the air. The storm screamed
like a mailman, beating Itself t.
pieces on the tree, Gaping it with its
lightning, believing about it with its
thunder, but the oak stood and seem
ed to smile as it writhed in the grasp
OF its enemy-friend, the storm. 1t was
an old game to the oak and it laugh
ed. To think of the impertinence of
THESE young DtOW-iIdEQS porn Ill Il udA
and moistening aCorns before the
night! The storm rested for a mo-
ment and the oak Strengthened itself
and shook the rain drops from It's
leaves, waiting the next assault.
And then, while it's flying cavalry
of shred-like ribbons of cloud swirled
through the branches, the green
hearted centre descended in a last des-
perate attack in force. Calmly the
oak awaited it. but he was getting old
Yelling the twisting winds struck
from above They wrapped their arms
about the middle of the oak They
felt the old tree weld. They plucked
his branches and flung them far away
in wanton JOY, the heavy artillery
Numbered it's accompaniment to tho
assault, the lightning played about in
a hundred bolts, barely missing its
mark. The wind tugged, the oak
creaked to it's centre. Suddenly there
was tearing crack; the green cloud
lowering above called for the final eff
fort: the winds, hugging the trunk
swirled upwards; there was anOthcl
wrenching crash, the top-most branch