THE CLAYS AXD BASHAWS. 329 



In examining the 2:30 list I find a single one of his get, before 

 he left Long Island, with a single heat of even 2:30. And in 

 examining the list of his get during the twenty-odd years of his 

 life in Western New York, I find a single representative, with 

 a single heat in even 2:30, and this one was out of a mare by old 

 Champion, a very noted trotting progenitor. He left three sons 

 that appear as sires: Andy Johnson, with three just inside of the 

 2:30 list, Henry Clay Jr., with a single one to his credit, and 

 Cassius M. Clay, with one very fast one to his credit. This 

 Cassius M. Clay was the sire of the famous George M. Patchen. 

 Three of Henry Clay's daughters produced six 2:30 trotters, and 

 for a time it was held that the dam of the very famous George 

 Wilkes was a daughter of his, but that claim has not been sus- 

 tained by later developments. 



The name and memory of the horse Henry Clay would have 

 been perpetuated in horse history through an attenuated line of 

 descendants, as a fairly good horse, though unsuccessful as a trot- 

 ting progenitor, had his bones been left to rest and rot where 

 they were buried. Unfortunately, about the time of his death, 

 there sprang up a most voluble enthusiast whose special mission 

 on earth seemed to be to extol the superlative greatness of Henry 

 Clay, and the contemptible worthlessness of "Bill Rysdyk's bull," 

 as he designated Hambletonian. He commenced pouring his end- 

 less contributions into the columns of the breeding press and 

 writing interminable letters to as many prominent breeders as 

 would receive them, and all about the Clay blood being the only 

 blood from which the trotter could be bred. These effusions 

 were written with some skill, abounding in great prodigality of 

 fancy and still greater economy of truth. It was astonishing 

 how many men believed what he said and how few understood 

 that the "old man" was in it as a "business." He had gathered up 

 all the cheap sons of the old horse and wanted to sell them at a 

 handsome advance, and for a time the game won. 



To keep the interest from falling off and the Clay blood mov- 

 ing, he secured access to the purses of two wealthy gentlemen 

 who were possessors and admirers of Clay blood, and the bones 

 of the horse were taken up, mounted and set up, and presented 

 to the United States National Museum at Washington, D. C. 

 The bones are still there, and the inscription on the pedestal 

 when last seen was as follows: 



