420 THE HORSE OF AMERICA. 



Veech made his trip to Clark County, I might at least express 

 my sympathy with him in having so bad a memory. Mr. Brod- 

 head had nothing to do with either the original construction or 

 utterance of this fraud, for he was not then connected with the 

 management of Woodburn. My readers can employ their own 

 terms in characterizing, as it deserves, the fraudulent act of 

 manufacturing a pedigree out of whole cloth; and they can also 

 exercise their own ethical discrimination in determining whether 

 the man who executes the fraud is any worse than the man who 

 maintains and supports it after he knows it is fraudulent. 



We pass on to Sally Russell, the grandam of Maud S. It is 

 not a pleasant task to review an old controversy, whatever it 

 might bring to light; but a controversy which involves the true 

 lines of descent of so great a family as that of Maud S., Nutwood, 

 Lord Russell, etc., is worth preserving for the enlightenment of 

 future generations. It all turns upon the breeding of Sally 

 Russell and the identity of her .breeder. She was a little chest- 

 nut mare, represented to have been foaled 1850, got by Boston 

 and out of Maria Russell, by Rattler, and so on, claimed to be 

 thoroughbred. She was bought by Mr. Alexander from the fore- 

 man on Captain John W. Russell's farm, with' the pedigree given 

 as above. The name of her breeder was not given to Mr. Alex- 

 ander, I think, but Bruce has it that her dam, Maria Russell, and 

 this mare Sally Russell were both bred by Benjamin Luckett. In 

 1863 this mare was offered, with others, to the highest bidder, at 

 Mr. Alexander's annual sale, being then thirteen years, old ac- 

 cording to the records of the establishment, and the auctioneer 

 was not able to coax a bid of ten dollars on her and she was led 

 out unsold. Five years later 1868 I attended the Woodburn 

 sale, and a little scrubby-looking old mare was brought into the 

 ring, represented to have been stinted to imported Australian, 

 and when this was announced a subdued whisper went round 

 the ring, "She'll never raise another foal." The auctioneer was 

 eloquent upon the value of the Australian blood on the Boston 

 blood, and the possibilities of the coming foal, but all to no pur- 

 pose, as the mare was led out of the ring the second time, with 

 no person willing to bid a dollar. I was astonished that such an 

 animal should have been put up at auction, for she had all the 

 appearance of being twenty-eight instead of eighteen. She died 

 that summer, apparently of old age, and I have no shadow of 

 doubt that she sank under the weight of years. On two separate 



