DEATH OF JAMES H. GOLDSMITH. 231 



DEATH OF JAMES H. GOLDSMITH. 



They have laid away the cherry and black, 

 Its owner is under the sod; 

 His doings are stretched on memory's rack, 

 And his spirit flown to his God. 



After the Buffalo meeting, James H. Goldsmith 

 was taken back to his Orange County home, where he 

 died on Thursday, August 27. When he left the Iro- 

 quois he looked thin, careworn and gray, sickness hav- 

 ing made him prematurely old, but few of those 

 who waved him off as the carriage turned the corner 

 thought that the parting was the last on this side of 

 the grave. His physician vetoed any more work in 

 the sulky, after he insisted on driving Leicester in the 

 deciding heat of the race won by Sprague Golddust, 

 and as it proved that occasion was the last on which 

 he donned the cherry and black cap and jacket. 



Death found him at the house in which he was 

 born, on June I5,i849;the most momentous year in the 

 history of the trotting turf; at the home where he spent 

 his childhood among the Volunteer colts which he 

 afterwards helped to make famous. It found him 

 where he grew to man's estate, where he brought 

 home his bride, and saw fortune smile in on him with 

 passing years. Far away from the scenes where he 

 played so prominent a part, a modest stone marks his 

 resting place in the family plot at Washingtonville, N. 

 Y., and as the companions of his youth point out the 

 mound to a stranger, can other than Gray's memor- 

 able line come to mind : 



"The paths to glory lead but to the grave.'' 



In his particular field Goldsmith had all that fame 

 could give. His skill as a reinsman and a conditioner 



