=u The Great

A History in Six Parts: Part IV

American Pedestrian Edward Payson Weston Turns Runner and Defies His Naysayers in the Fourth Astley Belt Race

by Ed Dodd

Here’s a quick summary of Parts I through HI of The Great Six-Day Races, which appeared in the first three issues of Marathon & Beyond. — Editor

In 1788 “pedestrian” Englishman Foster Powell travels 100 miles in 22 hours, while fellow countryman Captain Barclay outdoes him by covering 100 miles in 19 hours in 1806. Pedestrianism catches on in the United States, where the best Americans, Edward Payson Weston and Daniel O’Leary, compete in several six-day events in the 1870s. In 1876, the pair travels to England and continues to record impressive long-distance feats. British Parliament member Sir John Astley inaugurates a series of six-day races called the Astley Belt Races. O’Leary wins the first two races in decisive fashion but loses the Belt to Brit Charles Rowell ina gut-wrenching third race. O’ Leary is ignored when the gate receipts are divided among the competitors.

CHAPTER 6: THE FOURTH ASTLEY BELT RACE

Charles Rowell’s victory marked the end for the walker. Never again would the victor of a six-day, go-as-you-please race be an athlete who walked exclusively. Daniel O’ Leary, convinced that his time was up, was driven into a premature but short-lived retirement.

Rowell was quickly challenged to a rematch by John Ennis. In England, “Blower” Brown issued his own challenge to the new champion. Arrangements

Weston entered his name among the competitors.

© 1997 by Ed Dodd

While we have mentioned little about Weston since his defeat by Daniel O’Leary in April of 1877, Weston was far from inactive during this time. He took part in numerous solo exhibitions throughout 1877 and 1878. He did not, however, engage in any head-to-head competitions for a year anda half. During that time the English pedestrians tried again and again to get Weston onto the track. At least twice a month the sporting press carried letters of challenge. But Weston shrewdly avoided all matches. He spent his time walking throughout the British Isles cultivating the patronage of the leading ladies and gentlemen of society. Weston’s exhibitions were conducted with the utmost civility. He refused to have anything to do with the raucous, tobacco-smoking, beer-guzzling, gambling fraternity.

A Hero for the Upper Class

Whenever Weston performed, he wore a frilled shirt and black leather leggings. Quite often he topped this off with a broad blue sash, and he was never without his small white walking stick. In his shining suit of black and white, Weston looked almost clerical. The Turf, Field, and Farm magazine of January 3, 1879, commented upon Weston’s handling of his exhibitions:

When he pursued his weary way around the track, the best people thronged the immense buildings and applauded him earnestly. From the dainty hand of fashion he received many floral tributes, which he gallantly acknowledged, and during the pauses in his walk the profound, the cultivated, and the beautiful gathered around him. Reclining in his chair, he held his court as if he had been a sprig of royalty. . . . The boisterous classes thoroughly hated him. . .. He was loudly denounced as a humbug, still he never failed to draw. … Weston stimulated a love for walking in the very circles where such was most needed and where the best results followed.

Weston was the complete antithesis of the other pedestrians. He was refined, intelligent, and educated. He gave the upper class a hero with whom they could identify.

Weston was a colossal showman, and the people loved to watch him. In the early part of 1879, from January 18 to February 28, he had attempted to walk 2,000 miles in 1,000 consecutive hours along the country roads of England. Throughout the 42 days, he was constantly mobbed in every town through which he traveled. In Brighton, the crowds were so large that he was forced to take refuge in a shop for two hours. The next night in Winchester, Weston’s attendant William Begley disguised himself in Weston’s cloak and hat to divert the spectators so that the pedestrian could make it to the George Hotel for a temporary rest—a ruse carried out at least two more times during the walk.

Not only was Weston attempting an incredible feat of endurance, but at least once and often two or three times a day he was delivering lectures to large audiences. His talk was a combination of the joys of walking and the benefits of temperance. His delivery was quick and energetic, even after a long day spent slogging through six inches of mud during a winter rainstorm. Whether he was speaking to a group of farmers at a local corn exchange or to a group of undergraduates at Oxford or Cambridge, the response was always the same: unbridled enthusiasm. He left them roaring with laughter from his numerous anecdotes gathered from 12 years of “wobbling” over the dirt roads and sawdust tracks in America and Great Britain.

A combination of a much too arduous lecture schedule and some bad weather left Weston 22.5 miles short of his 2,000 miles when the final hour elapsed. The effort was considered a failure. Weston had had only two competitive races since the O’ Leary match in 1877. Both were six-day affairs. In the first All-England Championship held at the end of October, 1878, he quit on the fifth day with the inglorious total of 365 miles. In this race William “Corkey” Gentleman travelled a nearworld-record of 520 miles, 440 yards. He was followed by “Blower” Brown with 505 miles and Charles Rowell with 467 miles. This was just five months prior to Rowell’s success at Madison Square Garden. In the second All-England Championship, held April 21 to 26, 1879, Weston finished fifth with a= = 2+—______ mediocre 450. In this race three major world records were broken. George Hazael, who had trained exceedingly hard after his embarrassment in the First Astley Belt race, blasted through the first 100 miles in 15:35:31 and covered 133 miles within the first 24 hours. He then faded badly; Brown went on to set a six-day world record: 542 miles, 440 yards.

DIANNA PoRTER Edward Payson Weston combines walking feats with lectures on the joys of walking.

Is Weston’s Career Over?

It was now quite clear to the sporting press that Weston was through. Forty years old, he was the aging ex-champion feebly attempting to win back the glories of days now lost forever. Bell’s Life dubbed him the “game old ped” and

the “weary wobbler.” Turf, Field, and Farm commented, “As Weston is not a runner, his chances of winning the [Astley] belt are not good. Rowell’s most dangerous competitors in the forthcoming contest will be English blood. The Astley Belt is likely to remain in England for some time to come.”

Even Sir John Astley, Weston’s close friend and most vociferous supporter in England, had given up on him. Weston went to Astley requesting a loan of 100 pounds for his entry fee. Astley’s response was, “Why not let well enough alone? No walker can compete with these runners, and I’m not going to let you throw 100 pounds away that way. I’ll lend you 100 pounds for anything else, but not to waste on this walk.”

Undaunted, and even though his best friend thought that his chances were hopeless, Weston wrote to the other entrants in the race asking for a one-week extension in the deadline for the deposit of the entry fee. The other competitors, who recognized Weston’s popularity, granted the extension. Within the week, Weston had talked his wife into giving up $500 of her father’s inheritance for his entry fee.

Weston, ever confident in his ability, began to think more and more about running. In an interview he said, “While I was in country (U.K.) I never believed that running could hold out against walking; but when I saw the easy pace of some of those runners, I changed my mind. Some of them ran a 10-mile gait with less apparent exertion than a man makes walking four miles per hour.” So, one month prior to the fourth Astley Belt race, Weston began to experiment with a new form of locomotion. He ran, and he liked it. “I fell accidentally into an easy running pace, just as I did in walking,” he said some weeks later.

Two weeks before the starting date, Rowell injured his right heel. After much consultation with his medical advisors it was decided that he should not start. He thereby forfeited the Belt, and it was up for grabs.

As the time drew near, it became clear that this would be a four-man race, as it had been for the third Belt Race. With Rowell injured, O’ Leary in retirement, and Harriman having romantic problems back in the United States, John Ennis would be the only survivor from that earlier race.

“Blower” Brown, the present world-record-holder, became the odds-on favorite. Bets on Brown were taken at 6 to 4. Ennis, even though inconsistent, brought odds of 5 to 1. Evenarelative unknown, William Harding of Blackwell, was given 6 to 1. Weston was, in the opinion of all, far outclassed, and hardly a soul laid any money on the “weary wobbler,” even at 10 to 1.

The Fourth Astley Belt Race Begins

On Sunday, June 15, 1879, the eight-lap loam and fine gravel track had been laid. The judges’ stand was stationed midway on the north side of Agricultural Hall, and opposite it was a large scoreboard. By 12:55 a.m. only about 500

—_.] SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Ed Dodd THE GREAT SIX-DAY RACES m 93

people had gathered to witness the start of what appeared to be a foregone conclusion. The only question was whether or not Brown could better his own record.

As the four pedestrians approached the starting line, all eyes turned towards Weston. He had discarded his frilled shirt, his fancy sash, and the other trumperies that had generally distinguished him on the track. He was dressed in red worsted tights, a thin white undershirt, and ordinary trunks. He was dressed to compete and not simply to make a show of himself. His face “was shaved smooth, giving him almost a boyish appearance, and the only indications of advancing age were a few gray hairs that showed themselves about his temples.”

At precisely 1:00 a.m., Sir John Astley gave the signal that sent the four pedestrians on their way. Harding and Brown instantly shot into the lead, running as though it were a six-hour race and not six days. Harding finished the first mile in 6:05. He — -warorns was closely followed by Brown in 6:20. Ennis was Pedestrian turned runner, running, but at a far more reasonable rate, coming Weston competes in the through in 8:05. Weston was where he wasexpected Fourth Astley Belt race. to be: last, in 10:10.

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Things quickly settled down with Brown taking the lead in the third hour. By 50 miles, however, the race had taken an unexpected turn. Brown was still in first place in 7:30:14, but, close behind, to the surprise of all, was Weston in 7:47:15. He had shocked the meager crowd with his ability to run with arelaxed and easy flowing stride.

Brown sailed through 100 miles in 17:13:17 with Weston only an hour behind. Promptly at 101 miles Brown retired for a bit of beef tea and a rest. Weston walked into the lead for a brief time, for when he had finished 102 miles, he also stopped to take a rest. Brown was back on the track as soon as Weston stopped and took over the lead once again.

At midnight Brown led with 125 miles to Weston’s 123. Brown left 10 minutes later for his first extended rest period of the race. Weston ran on until 1:00 A.m., when he had covered 127.4 miles. This was far more than he had ever completed on the first day.

Brown rested only two hours and 45 minutes and again took the lead at 3:00 A.M. Weston’s handlers allowed him to rest only one minute longer than Brown. By 8:00 a.m., Brown had gone through 150 miles, 63 minutes ahead of Weston. Brown now began the favorite “stalking” tactic of the experienced peds. John Ennis described this and Weston’s counter tactic in a postrace interview:

He [Weston] displayed more strategy than he has ever shown before. Brown attempted to break the heart of Weston by following close on his heels. Weston saw his game and was equal to the emergency.

It was a great trick of his to reverse in walking. [The rules allowed for any pedestrian to reverse direction at the conclusion of any lap simply by notifying the lap counter.] Weston practiced this to Brown’s disaster. He knew just when he was going to reverse, but Brown did not. [Weston] would be walking at arapid pace with Brown athis heels, when suddenly he would turn about and go the other way. Brown would get some paces over the line before he realized what Weston had done. In this way he lost several yards each time.

Even though Brown was losing those several yards, he was still moving faster than Weston, and by the end of the second day he had increased his lead to 7 miles, with a total of 225 miles. Bets were now taken on Brown at 2 to 1.

The second night Brown rested three hours to Weston’s two anda half hours. Brown continued to stretch his lead throughout the third day. Bell’s Life reported that Brown “seemed brimful of confidence” at 3:00 p.m. on Wednesday. And indeed he should have been. His only real competition was still losing ground. Brown felt good and had a 13-mile lead. He left the track smiling and happy, ready for a well-deserved but brief rest. Weston remained on the track and cut the lead to 10 miles.

Ennis Retires

At 4:30 p.m. that afternoon, Ennis retired from the race. He had never been in contention and was a complete shambles. One week before the race, while he was training along the Thames near Hampton, he saw a tug boat run down and sink a small boat with two men and two women in it. He dove into the river and saved one of the men and one of the women. But in the process he strained his back. After the rescue, unable to find a carriage to return him to his hotel, he was forced to walk four and a half miles. He caught a severe cold and badly blistered his soaking wet feet. The cold was barely cleared up by the start of the race, and the blisters never did heal completely. He left the race ill, with his feet blistered, infected, and festering. Bad luck had once again struck down Ennis.

Weston Closes In

Midnight Wednesday saw Brown still holding a comfortable 11-mile lead over Weston, 318 miles to 307 miles. Brown was 6 miles ahead of the previous best on record. He had gone to bed at 11:50 p.m. for his longest rest of the competition, and did not return until 3:16 a.m. Weston, sensing that Brown may have been starting to have difficulty, kept going until 1:25 a.m. He was now a mere 5 miles behind and moving easily.

Brown came out of his tent noticeably weaker. Weston charged out of his tent 15 minutes later after a sleep of only two hours. Brown moved stiffly. At 8:30 a.m. he took a 23-minute rest for a massage. Weston closed to within four miles. Brown came back in obvious pain, his legs no better. Weston was now in control. He gained rapidly, often running up to two miles at a time without a walking break. His adrenaline was rushing through his body. He had waited three and a half days for Brown to crack.

A New York Times reporter described the two men at 10 a.m. Thursday: “Weston] seems hearty and strong and is going finely. Brown is not so strong and his supporters are getting anxious.” Brown again left the track at 10:15 a.m. “looking exhausted” with 346 miles and two laps on his scoreboard.

At 11:01 a.m. Weston ran into the lead. “His iron-like legs and indomitable will soon made him the leading figure of the fight,” said Turf, Field, and Farm. Brown was through. By mid-afternoon he was staggering around the track at two miles per hour.

In the 13 hours since taking the lead until midnight Thursday, Weston, with a total of 390 miles, had gained 27 miles on Brown. Weston had taken only occasional brief rests of a few minutes throughout the afternoon and evening and slept only three hours, Friday morning from 1:00 a.m. to 4:00 a.m.

The outcome was now certain. To stimulate interest in the final two days, Sir John Astley wagered Weston $2,500 to $500 that he could not make 550 miles. Weston was more than ready for such a challenge. He ran effortlessly. At 12:20 a.m. Saturday he ran his 500th mile in 7:39. His fastest mile of the entire six days came at 6:00 p.m. when he covered his 526th mile in 7:37. He continued “scoring lap after lap with untiring perseverance.”

The New York Times gave the following description of the last evening:

Alarge number of Americans were present and their shouts of encouragement and the many bouquets and baskets of beautiful flowers showered upon their plucky countryman seemed to infuse him with new life, and with a smiling face he reeled off the laps as though he was walking for the fun of it. Whenever the band played he maintained a dog trot that carried him around the track… .

As his score crept past the greatest ever made, the building fairly shook with the tremendous applause of the multitude who watched the sturdy walker and the changing figures on the blackboard. . . .

As he passed his tent on the final lap he received British and American flags which he carried around the ring, waving them amid deafening cheering and din of music. The band played first “Yankee Doodle” and ended with “Rule Brittannia.”

Weston covered his last two miles in 11:24 and 11:21, respectively. He stopped his six-day excursion at 10:55 p.m. with a new world record of 550 miles. Weston was “blithe and chipper to the last, and left Agricultural Hall anything but a used-up man,” reported Turf, Field, and Farm. Bell’s Life commented after the race that Weston was “by no means the weary wobbler he used to be called.” He had averaged more than 90 miles per day for the six days and finished as though he had just taken a stroll around the block.

On July 4th, in the theatre of the Alexandra Palace, in London, Weston received the formal congratulations of his friends and admirers. He was presented with a handsome gold watch and chain and a silver cup subscribed for by a number of noblemen and friends. The inscription on the watch read, “Presented to E. P. Weston by some fifty of his admirers as a mark of their appreciation of his great powers of endurance, energy of character, and honesty or purpose, July 5, 1879.” In addition, the park where Weston had trained, Alexandra Park, was christened “Weston Park” in honor of his victory.

A week before the testimonial, Sir John Astley wrote the following letter to Sporting Life Newspaper of London:

I venture to think that very many of your readers will agree with me that the feat accomplished by Edward Payson Weston at the Agricultural Hall last week—550 miles in six days and nights, in the ‘go-as-youplease’ style—is a marvelous performance. Weston tells me he has now covered on foot something like 53,000 miles in America and England and I verily believe he is at this moment in no way worse for his exertions, and he certainly looks better than he did on Monday, the 16th, when about to start.

I have read in many newspapers, from time to time, of the fearful sufferings, of the certain ruin of constitution, of the probably mental aberration, and so forth, caused by overexertion on the track, but the present condition of Weston is the best proof of the utter ignorance displayed by these poor scribes, and confirms me in my opinion that many more men die from not taking exercise than from taking too much. I have known Weston about three years, and have always admired his

Ed Dodd THE GREAT SIX-DAY RACES m 97

great powers of endurance and his energy of character. . . . His failure in accomplishing 2,000 miles in 1,000 consecutive hours on the roads of England was to be entirely attributed to the awfully severe weather and the consequent state of the roads, as well as to the enormous crowds that beset him and hindered his progress through the towns on his route. Still, the performance was a most astonishing one, and though Weston did not win, he was far from disgraced.

The expenses attending his walk through England, including the conveyance of his judges and attendants over 2,000 miles for six weeks, were so heavy that his failure cost him over $2,500. This, coupled with serious losses previously, have placed him in pecuniary difficulties from which the poor receipts of the late week’s “wobble” (caused by the breaking down of the three other competitors) are not sufficient to extricate him. It is, therefore, proposed by some of his friends and admirers that we should assist him out of his difficulty by organizing a complimentary testimonial on his behalf, and Messrs. Betram and Roberts have generously put their theatre at the Alexandria Palace at our disposal.

I must wind up my long-winded epistle by asking those who agree with me in the above sentiments to take as many tickets as they can afford, particularly impressing on those who have benefited by Weston’s instruction in the art of long-distance progression to lend a helping hand to one who has striven to teach the world what the powers of man are capable of when governed by pluck, perseverance, and abstinence from overindulgence in the so-called pleasures of dissipation. I shall be glad to supply any one who wishes to assist in the above testimonial with tickets if they will apply to me.—Yours truly, J. D. Astley.

COURTESY OF ED DODD

Edward Payson Weston strikes a royal pose after his victory in the Fourth Astley Belt race.

The day before Astley’s letter appeared, the London News editorialized about the match:

There are some slight grounds for hope that the more than usually disgusting spectacle presented by the “Six Days Pedestrian Contest,” which ended on Saturday, may be the beginning of the end of these senseless exhibitions. If it please anybody to know that rather more than eight miles farther has been walked in the time than has ever been walked before, that knowledge is now open to them.

It is well, however, that they should know something else. The unlucky man, Brown, the winner of the last contest, strained a sinew in his knee or otherwise injured it on Thursday. Notwithstanding this, he continued to hobble painfully along for about 150 miles… . This was not done in a desperate effort to win, that being impossible days ago, nor merely from a gallant desire to do his best. It was simply done because, owing to the rules of the contest, his share of the gate money could only be obtained by traveling the distance. Brown, of course, has to live by his vocation, and his vocation obliges him to go through several days of absolutely useless torture for the amusement of the spectators.

It is here, however, that the gleam of hope we have alluded to comes in. The spectators, greatly to the credit of those who stayed away, were, comparatively speaking, so few that Brown’s gains will amount to nothing. We are sorry for him, but it seems not unreasonable to hope that competitors will scarcely be forthcoming in the future, seeing that there is so much to suffer and so little to get.

Regardless of the sentiments expressed in this editorial, Weston had regained the recognition of the athletic world. He had finally won the symbol of the Champion Pedestrian of the World—the Astley Belt.

Financially, however, as Astley mentioned in his letter, Weston had made just enough to cover his expenses. He won $2,500 in stake money, $2,500 in

THERESA DODD

The original Astley Belt resides in England’s Cambridge Folk Museum.

the bet with Astley, and a paltry $860 in gate money. This was just three months after Charles Rowell had collected $18,000 in gate money at Madison Square Garden during the third Astley Belt Race. In an effort to secure his finances, Weston began a six-week lecture tour throughout the British Isles. He delivered his now famous talk, “What I Know About Walking,” and accompanied this with a demonstration of his walking and running styles.

Rowell Challenges Weston

Charles Rowell challenged Weston almost immediately. The two met at the office of Sporting Life on the afternoon of August 2, 1879, and signed extremely detailed articles of agreement regarding their rematch, scheduled for September 22, 1879, to September 29 at Madison Avenue Garden.

As Weston prepared to leave England, Mr. Atkinson, the editor of Sporting Life, called on him to make the customary $500 deposit on the Astley Belt. Weston, with hardly enough money to get himself, his wife and children, and his valet home, refused. He said that he was a gentleman and they would have to take his word. Atkinson appealed to Astley, and Astley decided that Weston’s word was sufficient.

CHAPTER 7: DISPUTES

After being away for more than three years, Weston returned to the United States on August 27, 1879. C. D. Hess and the managers of Madison Square Garden arranged a gala welcoming home for the champion pedestrian and his family. They hired a steamboat to take a large party of Weston’s admirers to meet the liner Nevada before it docked in the New York harbor. Six kegs of beer, two baskets of wine, and a large basket of sandwiches were also loaded into the steamboat to keep the guests happy until Weston’s arrival.

Atone in the afternoon, after a five-hour wait, the Nevada was sighted. The steamboat pulled alongside, and Weston was saluted with loud cheers and toast after toast as he stood at the railing waving his hat to his friends. The entire party on the steamboat boarded the Nevada and continued the welcoming party until the ship docked.

Weston had received some very bad press during the three years he had been away. Several of the newspapermen who had labeled him as “washed up” and “finished” were now firing questions at him about his most recent victory and the next race that was scheduled to begin in three and a half weeks. Innuendos were made concerning the legitimacy of his performance in England and the chance of invalid record-keeping in the upcoming race.

DIANNA PORTER

A steamboat meets Weston’s liner Nevada, as the champion brings back the Astley Belt to U.S. shores.

Weston’s countenance changed rapidly from smiling and jovial to scowling and stern. The New York Times reporter on board recorded the following outburst:

You want to know whether this walk is going to be square? I have been accused of making unfair walks, but I will give any man $100 for every inch he can prove I claimed without making it. I never made an unfair walk in my life and would not degrade myself by thinking of such a thing.

Actions speak louder than words, but there’s nothing succeeds like success, gentlemen. I have seen the time in this city when I could not borrow $25 to keep the Rink open another day when I was walking. I did not care to bring this belt back to New York. In fact, when I went away Thad made up my mind not to walk any more in this city. While in many quarters I always received the kindest treatment here, in others I did not. There was a time when I would have considered it the proudest event in my life to bring this belt back to America, but I have got over that. Still lam glad to bring it back for the sake of my friends here. If Ihad my way about it, this next walk would not be in New York, but in Australia, but my wife and Sir John Astley overcame my wishes.

One thing you can set down for a certainty. I will not walk in that Garden if smoking is allowed there. It is too hard on the lungs to breathe that foul atmosphere for six days, and Ido not intend to do it, and Rowell will not walk if Ido not….

About the next walk? Well, I have nothing to say about that. I shall do my best, whatever that may be. How many miles will I make? I’ll try to make a good many. I do not care to say anything about the profits of the London walk, as that would not interest the public.

As the ship pulled into dock, several hundred people waited on the pier, and several thousand more stood outside the gates, anxiously watching to catch a glimpse of the returning hero. When Weston appeared, a loud and continuous cheer went up from the people on the pier and was taken up by the thousands outside the gates. He was surrounded by well-wishers, and it was very difficult for Weston and his family to make their way to the waiting carriage.

When Weston stepped ashore, the reception that greeted him picked up his spirits immensely. Turf, Field, and Farm, the only publication to stand by Weston through all his failures, commented on his rapid change of disposition in their August 29 edition: “He is the same Weston of old—all gloom one hour and all brightness the next. As he is nervous and excitable, he frequently says things that his friends never think of treasuring up against him. Something occurred to chill his spirits just after passing Fire Island. After his reception on the pier he gladly would have recalled the petulant remarks down the bay.”

That Friday evening Weston was given a banquet at Madison Square Garden. The opening address, given by a Professor Doremus, discussed walking froma scientific standpoint and showed how the world was indebted to Weston. He called Weston a “living example of the advantages of temperance.” He recounted how Weston had made pedestrianism fashionable and, by so doing, had given many people a new lease on life by encouraging them to get out and walk instead of taking streetcars and carriages. When the professor described Weston as the king of walker, and warmly welcomed him home, the audience gave him a standing ovation.

The next day Weston travelled to his hometown of Providence, Rhode Island. A large crowd was on hand to greet him, and he drove through a “human mass” to the Narragansett Hotel. A reception was held that night at the Park Garden, and 8,000 people demonstrated their pride in Weston. Weston left Providence Sunday night for places unknown to the general public until the start of the race September 22.

Charles Rowell had arrived in New York City, accompanied by his trainer, Charles Barnsley, the day before Weston. His arrived had caused none of the commotion that Weston’s had. He was greeted at the pier by Hamilton Busby, the editor of Turf, Field, and Farm, and Mr. Brockway of the Ashland House Hotel, where he would stay while he was in the city.

When he was interviewed the next day in the lobby of his hotel, Rowell said that at the moment he was tired and not in the best of condition. The voyage over had been very crowded, and he had been unable to do any walking or running. His feet were also giving him trouble of late and had interfered a great deal with his training since his last race back in March. He explained why he had not started the fourth Astley Belt race. “I had blistered one heel by wearing a pair of old shoes, and a day or two before the opening I put on a new pair. Something

in the leather acted like a poison on the blister, and made me so lame that it would have been folly to start against a man like Weston, who was in first-class condition. I shall start this time, though, and I mean to win, feet or no feet.”

Rowell considered Weston to be his chief competition in the next contest and said that he thought this race would be the hardest struggle of his life. While he was very cautious not to commit himself to a certain distance, when he talked about the race, his “eyes flashed with quiet determination,” and he reiterated his intention to win.

Controversy Surrounds Race

Weston and Rowell had more to worry about, however, than just the prospect of racing against each other. Several months before, Daniel O’ Leary had made arrangements to rent Madison Square Garden starting October 6 for a six-day race for the O’Leary Belt Championship of America. O’Leary, concerned that the Astley Belt race would detract from his own competition, solicited the aid of the millionaire Cornelius Vanderbilt.

The Kuntz Brothers had rented the Garden from May 31 to September 30 “as a first-class place of entertainment, amusement and recreation, or religious worship.” It had been a bad season, and when Hess, acting for Weston, approached them with the proposition of staging the Astley Beltrace, they jumped at the chance to recoup some of their losses. They agreed to pay all the expenses and to take one-fourth of the gross receipts.

Vanderbilt used his influence and began, early in September, to apply pressure to have the Astley Belt race postponed. He threatened to get an injunction to stop the race. Hess countered with his own threat to get a “write of prohibition” against any such injunction. Vanderbilt then offered to give the Garden to the pedestrians for nothing but the bar privilege, if they would delay the competition until the beginning of November. He said that he would withhold his liquor license in case they refused and would make them amenable for every violation of the license law if they attempted to go on.

The question of postponing the race was submitted to Sir John Astley. He hired a well-known New York law firm to study the problem and make its recommendations. The lawyers advised that the event go on as planned. The O’Leary group then offered a substantial sum to Weston and Rowell to delay the race. They refused.

After two weeks of threats of suits and countersuits, the matter was finally settled. The Kuntz Brothers met with Kelly and Smith, the owners of the Garden, and paid them an undisclosed sum of money to have them obtain the written promise of Vanderbilt not to interfere with the race. Turf, Field, and Farm gave the reason for such a move. “They took this step because they

wished to avoid a lawsuit. They had right on their side, but might was on the other side. They preferred to make a pecuniary sacrifice to carry out their contract with Mr. Hess, and Mr. Vanderbilt expressed himself as satisfied.”

This was not the only controversy surrounding the race. Ten other American pedestrians, recognizing the opportunity to cash in on the pedestrianism craze, had deposited the $500 entry fee at the office of Turf, Field, and Farm. While they were happy at the chance to be part of a certain money-making venture, they were not pleased at all with the proposed management of the race.

There was so much bitterness that the competitors were split into two camps, the Americans and the English. Weston was considered by the other Americans to be in the English camp. The Americans believed that the Trustees (Astley, Atkinson, Hess, and Busby) and Weston and Rowell had combined with the “avowed purpose of ‘hippodroming’ the match.” They were upset that Weston and Rowell and their backers had gone ahead and made all of the arrangements and contracts for the match and for the distribution of the gate receipts, without even seeking their advice or approval. They simply did not trust Weston or “his English friends.”

A “Pedestrian Congress”

To allow all involved to air their grievances, a “pedestrian congress” was held at the Glenham House Hotel at Third Avenue and Twenty-Fourth Street on the afternoon of September 7. Invitations were sent to all the competitors and their backers.

Several of the backers and trainers for the Americans showed up at the appointed time. After waiting one and a half hours for a representative of either Weston or Rowell to show up, the meeting began. The first to speak, as reported

DIANNA PORTER

Disgruntled American pedestrians meet to air their grievances over the management of the upcoming Fifth Astley Belt race.

in the September 8, 1879, edition of the New York Times, was Thomas Scannell, backer of the Connecticut pedestrian Samuel Merritt.

Iam sorry for it, but it is a fact, nonetheless, that this contest is now in a muddle. We don’t know for sure even whether it is to come off at all or not, although we have paid our $500 entrance fee and the other expenses of training. The English claim to be the grand patrons of sport. Humbug. They seem absolutely incapable of managing a contest of any kind fairly, and there’s no trick in the world they won’t play to beat an American.

This Sir John Astley is a smooth one. … When Rowell took the Belt back and $20,000 besides, it raised a craze among the English pedestrians and showed Astley a new field for making money out of his belt. That’s all he got it up for.

Here’s the situation: Weston has the Belt. He is credited with having made 550 miles. I don’t believe he did. Brown had made 542 miles, and in the last match, Brown being in it, a score better than his had to be put up to allow Weston to win. Astley wanted him to win so that the Belt would come over here, and he could send over some more hired pedestrians and make another rake. You’ ll see. I’ I] bet almost any amount of money that neither Weston or Rowell will make any 525 miles or better.

After Weston won the Belt, Rowell at once challenged him, and the match was made. The Astley rules allow the holder of the Belt and the challenger to make the match, agree upon the date, arrange the division of money, and choose managers. Weston and Rowell are both protégés of Astley, and he can cook up any nice little job that he likes. How have they done? After fixing everything up to suit himself, he allows as many other contestants to enter the match as pleased to, providing they all pay as entrance fees the sum of five hundred dollars at least four weeks before the day set for the match, which the rules require. The Americans, excluding Weston, paid, making $5,000. After they all paid their money, what did they find? Why, that they were likely to be swindled right and left.

Every contestant covering 450 miles in the match was entitled to a share of the receipts and the return of his fee. At least five Americans can make 450 miles. Guyon, Merritt, Krohne, Ennis, and Pauchot have all surpassed that score. These men, and in fact, all who pay the fee, are interested in the management of the match, and have a right to have a voice in the selection of the treasures and ticket-sellers, in order to protect their interests and secure the true total of receipts for division. But the English interest is playing a double game, and will not permit it.

Astley, Weston, and Rowell have made the arrangement without consulting any of the other walkers.

We will insist on one thing: to be represented at the box office and at the doors, in order to save ourselves from being defrauded in the matter of tickets sold and receipts. But every proposition we make to the English interest on that score is quietly ignored.

James Cusick, known worldwide as the trainer for the boxer John Heenan, and now the trainer of John Ennis, voiced his opinion:

Iknow these Englishmen. I’ve been among them. They try every time they can to play us. The English have eaten so much bull beef [they] have become arace of bullies. That’s a fact. I think they want to make all they can by any means out of this contest.

The Americans ought to have a voice in the management of the financial affairs of the match. If they don’t get it, they’ll be cheated. The English interest should consent to a meeting of all the representatives of the contestants. At this meeting each contestant should have an equal vote. And then a treasurer should be elected. The meeting should appoint the ticket-takers and sellers. Watchers should be placed in the ticket office and at the entrances to prevent fraud. At the last Astley Belt contest in this city it was notorious that the ticket-takers used to pass large numbers of tickets to confederates outside to be sold on joint accounts. In this thousands of dollars were made, and that is the reason why the receipts in the box office did not tally with the crowds in the building.

Another thing should be prevented. At the last contest the walkers allowed each of themselves to take out of the receipts $1000, allowed certain members of the management to take a similar amount, and then place away some $2000 as a contingency fund to meet unforeseen or unprovided-for expenses. Such business is all “skin” business, and should not be allowed. The contingent fund had never afterward been heard of. If Weston and Rowell refused to consent to such propositions their conduct would be construed as very singular, to say the least.

On Wednesday evening, September 17, the Americans finally got their wish. Everyone concerned with the race met at the office of Turf, Field, and Farm. George Atkinson, who had arrived from English just the day before, was Astley’s stand-in at the meeting. The Americans presented their case and voiced once more their dissatisfaction at the Hess management of the affair.

Hamilton Busby, speaking on behalf of Weston, said there was absolutely no chance that Hess would be removed. Weston was the champion and had the

right to select the time, place, and manager of the contest. Hess had made the contract with the Garden and had become responsible to the extent of thousands of dollars. He explained that the “complexion of the match” was clearly defined in the articles of agreement signed in London on August 2 by Weston and Rowell. The other contestants were simply to join in the match and were therefore bound by the conditions previously agreed upon.

The Americans, seeing that it was either agree or not compete, yielded to the management by Hess. Their anger was soothed somewhat when it was decided to organize a Board of Managers, composed of a representative of each pedestrian. Hess was made the president of this board and given the power to direct all affairs. A resolution was passed authorizing him to appoint a finance committee, a door committee, and a track committee.

Board of Managers member George Atkinson was appointed head referee and thereby exercised supervisory control over the match. He was also made treasurer. The Kuntz Brothers were to turn over 75 percent of the gate receipts every day to the finance committee, and this committee would deposit the money in the Second National Bank, subject to the order of the treasurer.

Each contestant would be allowed a representative in the box office to see that the tickets were correctly counted. The scorers and time-keepers were to be appointed by Busby and would be picked from the reputable athletic clubs of New York City and the surrounding vicinity. The price of admission to the Garden was set at one dollar to prevent crowding and to make the gathering select.

Finally, just four days before the start, all the disputed details seemed to be worked out. The American contingent, while not completely happy, resigned itself to the state of affairs, and everyone began making final preparations. Reprinted with permission of Ed Dodd. The illustrations on page 92, 94, 101, and 104 were created for this revised edition of The Great Six-Day Races.

The Great Six-Day Races will continue in the next issue with

Chapter 8: The Fifth Astley Belt Race

Ed Dodd THE GREAT SIX-DAY RACES ™ 107