defeated, if not lost sight of, when the ownership of the bridge was acquired by another company. For seven years past the river at Poughkeepsie has been the scene of one of the gayest and most popular of all the great annual features of college athletics. There the regatta of the Intercollegiate Rowing Asso- ciation is held every June, and over one of the finest straightaway courses in the world the eager crews from six great universities contend for the champion- ship. The crowds of spectators generally cross the river to Highland Station, where observation trains on the West Shore Road are in waiting to receive them. Digitized by Microsoft® Chapter XXVI Sports and Industries A BRIEF commentary on riparian pastimes and industries seems to be necessary to complete the story of the river. A reference, at least, to these matters will be permitted, if not demanded, by the reader. One recalls in this connection the fam- ous delivery of a well-known critic concerning a popu- lar book: " If you like this sort of a book, this is the sort of a book you like." If one cares for ice-boating, fishing, and kindred occupations, this is the sort of a subject that he cares for; but, realising that the con- verse is also true, we frankly re-echo the advice given by Mrs. Stowe, in the preface to a chapter on New England theology, " If the reader is not interested in the subject of this chapter, he is invited to skip it." We have already spoken of the intercollegiate races that for nearly a decade have enlivened the waters about Poughkeepsie and have drawn each year a mul- titude of enthusiastic spectators. But it is not only at summer time that the waters offer a field for exciting contests of strength or skill. The upper reaches of the river become in winter the theatre of sports that recall 430 Digitized by Microsoft® Sports and Industries 431 the tales that are told of the vigorous generation in- habiting that region in old colonial days. We have read how, in the time of Volckert Douw — recorder, mayor, vice-president of the first Provincial Congress, judge, Indian commissioner, and what not — ■ the ice on the rr^er in front of his house at Wolven-' hoek was the race- course upon which the speed of rival horses was matched in many an exciting contest. There the great and fashionable world of Albany and Kingston, we may suppose, entered into that exhilarat- ing pastime with a zest that belonged to a simpler phase of life. It is a trite reflection that the fathers enjoyed their pleasures more heartily, having fewer to enjoy. There is a story told of a dinner given by Douw to Red Jacket, the Indian chief, at which were present not only a number of his fellow-redskins, but a few prominent white men, with General Schuyler at their head. There was plenty of good cheer, the peace pipe circulated, and it may be that something more ex- hilarating was not lacking, for after awhile the Gen- eral and his host became engaged in an eager discussion upon the relative merits of two horses, one the mount upon which Schuyler had ridden from Albany and the other a famous ra ;e -horse. Sturgeon, that was the pride of Douw's stable. Of course, the Indian guests pricked up their ears, for an Indian, drunk or sober, loves nothing so well as a horse-race. There seem to have been obstacles enough in the way of a race at that moment. It was night and the sky was overcast, while Digitized by Microsoft® 432 The Hudson River from recent rain the ice was in a sloppy condition. But neither white nor red men were incHned to stand at obstacles. At a hint from one of the disputants, red- skin and negro servants in a crowd made for the river, where in a short time they marked and cleared a course across and down stream, lighting the way with torches and lanterns. Peter Van Loan, the overseer, was master of ceremonies, and King Charles, a famous jockey in his day, rode Sturgeon. The bets were large, Schuyler having backed his own horse heavily, and the excitement was intense as the contestants went flying down the course between the rows of flaring lights and shouting spectators. When old Sturgeon came in first, we may hope that Douw concealed his satisfaction and Schuyler his chagrin, since both were true-blue sportsmen of the old school, who could take good or ill fortune and give no sign. After a century and a half we find that the old spirit has not died out. Still the ice-decked river is the scene of many a winter carnival. Horses of famous pedigrees,