There the great and fashionable world of x\lbany and Kingston, we may suppose, entered into that exhilarating pastime with a zest that belonged to a simpler phase of life. It is a trite reflection that the fathers enjoyed their pleasures more heartily, having fewer to enjoy. There is a story told of a dinner given by Douw to Red Jacket, the Indian chief, at which were present not only a number of his fellow-redskins, but a few prominent white men, with General Schuyler at their head. There was plenty of good cheer, the peace pipe circulated, and it may be that something more exhilarating was not lacking, for after awhile the General and his host became engaged in an eager discussion upon the relative merits of two horses, one the mount upon which Schuyler had ridden from Albany and the other a famous race-horse, Sturgeon, that was the pride of Douw's stable. Of course, the Indian guests pricked up their ears, for an Indian, drunk or sober, loves nothing so well as a horse-race. There seem to have been obstacles enough in the way of a race at that moment. It was night and the sky was overcast, while

432 The Hudson River

from recent rain the ice was in a sloppy condition. But neither white nor red men were incHned to stand at obstacles. At a hint from one of the disputants, redskin and negro servants in a crowd made for the river, where in a short time they marked and cleared a course across and down stream, lighting the way with torches and lanterns. Peter Van Loan, the overseer, was master of ceremonies, and King Charles, a famous jockey in his day, rode Sturgeon. The bets were large, Schuyler having backed his own horse heavily, and the excitement was intense as the contestants went flying down the course between the rows of flaring lights and shouting spectators.