De Lancey of New York, specified the consideration on each side as a half bushel of silver Mexican dollars, and the Marylander had the satisfaction of carrying home a bushel of silver dollars. The great struggle, in New York, for supremacy on the turf was between the De Lancey family and the Morris family. These two families had been bitter political rivals for years, and when they met on the turf it was for “blood.” The De Lanceys were Tories and the Morrises were Whigs, and this intensified the feeling that had so long existed between them. When the Continental Congress adopted that remarkable resolution, advising the people to abstain from horse racing, cock fighting, gambling and some other more slight offenses, on the grounds of “economy,” in view of the approaching conflict with the mother country, the effect was thrilling and electrical. Every man who loved his home and his country obeyed it. True, as I have said, it was drawn in the form of advice and in the interests of “economy,” but there was but one great evil, one great prodigality at which it was aimed, and that was the gambling connected with horse racing. It was well aimed and struck the bull’s eye. It came in the midst of preparations for the greatest race meetings ever then projected, but everything was dropped and there it lay through all the years of the bloody struggle and until peace again smiled upon a land of free men. Before avowed hostilities commenced, Mr. James De Lancey, one of the first and largest importers and breeders of his day, sold out every animal of the horse kind that he possessed and retired to England. Thus, as the colonial period drew to its close, the brave little colonial horse that had weathered the storms of a hundred winters and carried his master in safety and comfort through all that time, is superseded by another race, and no one has ever attempted to write even so much as his epitaph.