“How I wish that I possessed the power of a despot,” Jefferson said one day, surprising his guests.12 “Yes,” he went on, “I wish I was a despot that I might save the noble, the beautiful trees that are daily falling sacrifices to the cupidity of their owners, or the necessity of the poor.” A guest asked, “And have you not authority to save those on the public grounds?” “No,” said Jefferson, “only an armed guard could save them.13,14 The unnecessary felling of a tree, perhaps the growth of centuries, seems to me a crime little short of murder, [and] it pains me to an unspeakable degree.”
