382 THE HORSE OF AMERICA. 



best judges and experts as probably more perfect than that of 

 any horse of his day. Others have gone faster singly, but no 

 one has done it in greater perfection of motion. In his great 

 nights of speed he was not bounding in the air, but down close 

 to the ground, with a gliding motion that steals from quarter 

 pole to quarter-pole with inconceivable rapidity. He was bred 

 by Joel W. Holcomb, of Ticonderoga, New York, and as the re- 

 sult of a practical joke he played, for the purpose of annoying his 

 uncle, David Hill, the owner of Black Hawk, against whom he 

 had some pique just at that time, many well-meaning and no 

 doubt honest people once believed, and possibly still believe, that 

 Ethan Allen was by Flying Morgan and not by Black Hawk. 

 The fact that Ethan Allen was the same color as Flying Morgan 

 and that there was some resemblance in size and style of action 

 of the two horses, lent a strong suggestion 'to the joke as a truth. 

 I am indebted to Mr. I. V. Baker, Jr., of Comstock's Landing, 

 S. B. Woodward, then of Ticonderoga, and B. H. Baldwin, of 

 Whitehall, New York, for the details of the way the Flying Mor- 

 gan story started, and need only say the narrator was an eye-wit- 

 ness to the whole affair. In the spring of 1852, in the barroom 

 of S. B. Woodward's hotel, at Ticonderoga, quite a number of 

 the villagers being present, Mr. Joel W. Holcomb came in and 

 said he was going to write a letter to R. M. Adams, of Burling- 

 ton, Vermont, the owner of Flying Morgan, and he was going to 

 have some fun with him; and, going to the desk in the room, he 

 wrote, substantially as follows: "I don't know but I have made 

 all the reputation for David Hill and old Black Hawk that I 

 care to. I am willing to have the credit go where it belongs, 

 and desire to let yourself and the public know that my colt Ethan 

 Allen .is got by your horse Flying Morgan." 



"There," he said, "you will see this in all the Vermont papers 

 next week. Won't Uncle David be mad?" 



"What!" exclaimed some of his neighbors, after hearing -it 

 read, "you won't put your name to such a falsehood as that v 

 It's a shame." 



"Well, well," said Holcomb, "I'll add a postscript." And 

 going to the desk he wrote below his signature, leaving a good 

 wide space between his signature and the following words: 



"Flying Morgan never covered the dam of Ethan Allen, never 

 smelt of her and never saw her, consequently Ethan Allen was 



