The Grand Walking Tournament of 1876 in Chicago

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By Davy Crockett

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The year 1876 was a particularly important year in ultrarunning/pedestrian history and thus several episodes have covered the events held that year. It was the year when the six-day races started to spread across America for the first time.

Lost in ultrarunning history, is the story of the first major six-day race held in America with twelve competitors. It was called “The Grand Walking Tournament for the Championship of the World,” held in May 1876, in the massive Exposition Building in Chicago, Illinois. For the first time, the story of this historic race will be retold. In addition, that year, Daniel O’Leary, took the six-day race to California.

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Daniel O’Leary’s influence upon American Pedestrianism

In America, in 1876, Daniel O’Leary, the true pedestrian champion of America, was the driving force to spark interest in the sport. He competed, trained and encouraged other athletes, and invested his own time and money to make events successful. Early in 1876, he especially supported Chicago’s female pedestrians (see episodes 101 and 102). But with his success, outspoken critics emerged.

Oleary had been criticized by some for his handling of the first women’s six-day race between Bertha Von Hillern and Mary Marshall that ended in controversy. (see episode 101) “Mr. O’Leary may be a splendid walker, and he may have lined his pockets by this last appearance in public, but as a manager he has proved a lamentable failure and has not added to his reputation as a gentleman.”

Challengers to O’Leary’s Title

O’Leary received continual six-day challenges from others. Now that he was the champion over Weston, he was careful not to waste time with pretenders. When Caleb W. Sidnam (1829-1902), age 57, a travel agent from Chicago, publicly challenged him, O’Leary’s response included, “Of course, I am most desirous of preserving my championship medal, as also the reputation already acquired.” But he countered with strict conditions for the contenders to put up or shut up. Put up guaranteed money to show that they were serious. He said, “During the past few months I have been much annoyed by persons requesting me to give them a start of several miles. I will give no odds whatever, being convinced of the necessity of having such persons make a record on strength of their own merits.”

Henry Schmehl (1851-1932), a German-American, and O’Leary’s friend, was one who hoped to be a challenger. He made it clear that he wanted no handicaps or favors, “that I had better establish a record for myself before I presumed to challenge him.” Thus, he first participated in the six-day race against Ellen Wickers and reached an impressive 502 miles, second only to O’Leary (see episode 102).

When Weston was only able to reach 450 miles in six days in England (see episode 99), Chicago called him a “fraud” and wondered why no international attention was being paid to O’Leary or Schmehl who both exceeded Weston’s best. “Verily, if the Englishmen are astonished at Weston, will they not be amazed at O’Leary if he brings his match to England?”

O’Leary heads to California

O’Leary took the Overland Railroad across the country in March 1876 to San Francisco, California. He then published a challenge to any man on the Pacific Coast, to race against him from 100-500 miles for as much as $10,000. If a challenger didn’t come forward, he would do a solo six-day walk for 500 miles and try to beat the world best time of 142:54:00, which was a little more than an hour less than six days.

How would California react to this new sport and O’Leary’s brash challenges? One newspaper wrote, “If O’Leary would devote his leg-ability to some useful employment, say, for instance, carry the route on a morning paper, stock boy for a live broker, hash slinger at a cheap restaurant, or errand boy for a laundry, his life would not be an entire failure. O’Leary, go to work!”

O’Leary’s solo Six-day attempt

On April 3, 1876, at 1 a.m., without a challenger, O’Leary started a solo six-day walk to try to reach 500 miles in 140 hours at the Horticultural Hall in San Francisco. This was California’s first exposure to six-day pedestrianism. He succeeded and reached 500 miles in 139:32:00, crushing the world best for 500 miles. He lost 17 pounds during the walk, was stumbling near the end, and did not continue to break his world six-day record of 503 miles. Within a couple days, Californians were impressed to see him recovered and walking out on the streets of the city.

The Grand Walking Tournament for the Championship of the World

Back in Chicago, in early April 1876, two very influential sporting men in Chicago worked out an agreement with the managers of the Exposition Building in Chicago to stage a six-day race in May 1876 that they called “The Grand Walking Tournament for the Championship of the World.” The organizers were: William Buckingham Curtis (1837-1900), who founded the Chicago Athletic Club and who had refereed the 1875 Weston-O’Leary match (see episode 98) and Thomas Foley (1842-1926) a wealthy Irish-American and Chicago alderman, owner of a grand billiard hall and champion of that sport. They announced that they already had six entries that included O’Leary and Schmehl and predicted that, “the field will probably comprise ten or a dozen of the best pedestrians in the country, and therefore in the world.”

In San Francisco, word of the event and his inclusion came to O’Leary. He was surprised to see that his name was attached to this planned event without his permission. He immediately sent a letter to the Chicago Tribune. He explained that he had never entered the event and had never been approached about it. He requested that his name be withdrawn, that he would not compete in it. He was not coming back from California for it. Besides, he could likely win more money where he was. He wished them well, hoping that it would prove to be “a big bonanza,” producing a champion that he could compete against at another time. He commented that he wished to see “a champion pedestrian badge attached to the breast of every man, woman and child in Chicago on my return.”

This came as a big blow to the organizers. Curtis had been a big O’Leary supporter and friend. This clearly caused a rift between the two. Curtis and Foley understood how important it was financially to have O’Leary associated with the race and were bitterly disappointed. They knew that a championship without O’Leary wouldn’t really be a championship.

They immediately published a letter that essentially called O’Leary a liar, and that his response was “uncalled for.” They claimed that before going to California, O’Leary had agreed to the event, if the Exposition Building could be obtained. They produced evidence that O’Leary’s friends had entered him into the race and had sent multiple telegrams to O’Leary informing him. The organizers scrambled with the devastating news and decided that the show must go on without its biggest draw.

The organizers did their best to entice spectators to attend the event. “The arrangements at the building are all that could be wished, and there is nothing to prevent the venture from being a successful one, and very interesting to lovers of athletics. The interior of the building is prettily decorated for the occasion with the national colors.” The Chicago Tribune was skeptical whether the event would succeed. “The Tribune feels called upon to offer that they should keep the ‘female pedestrian’ element out of the affair. People are sick enough of that.”

The track was put in place with both an outer track and an inner. The city and country surveyor carefully measured both tracks, six and seven laps to a mile. A chronometer was obtained to time the race and a large grandstand was put up that could seat 1,500. A large tally board was put up by a judges’ stand near an elevator. Arrangements were made for the Western Union Telegraph Company to be able to send out results as well as receive baseball scores that would be announced to the crowd.

For more entertainment, a band would play every afternoon and evening. Side-show short races would be conducted with distances up to 10 miles. A big draw would be David Stanton (1844-1907), a champion bicyclist from England, considered to be the greatest cyclist in the world. He would put on exhibitions on his 60-inch “spidery-looking machine” that he rode high off the ground. He had ridden the famous 100-mile Bath Road to England in 8:28, had peddled 650 miles to Paris in 47:10, and performed a solo six-day ride in 1875.

The prize for the winner of the six-day race would be $2,000 (worth $52,500 today) and he would receive a “Field Medal.” A bonus of $500 would be given if anyone beat the 500-mile world record time of 142:54:00. They did not realize that O’Leary already lowered this record by more than three hours in California.

The Starters

Twelve walkers toed the starting line at 12:02 a.m. on May 15, 1876, in the spacious Exposition Building on the Lake Michigan shoreline, in Chicago. They were:

James Smith, originally from York, England, living in Chicago, was a vocal critic of the legitimacy of Weston’s successful 500-mile walk. He was said to have the best-known time for walking 25 miles, doing it in 3:52. In 1873 he finished 100 miles 22:33 at Belle City Hall in Wisconsin. He was famous for walking against an elephant in P.T. Barnum’s New York City Hippodrome in 1874. This would be his first time attempting a walk of more than 100 miles.
William E Harding was a famous pedestrian from New York City. He was the editor of the National Police Gazette and had raced against M’Lee Lola in the first “battle of the sexes” in P.T. Barnum’s Hippodrome in March 1875 (see episode 97).
William Anderson was from Richland, Iowa. He was a local celebrity but had not competed in walking before.
John T. Ennis (1842-1929), a carpenter, of Chicago, was born in Longford, Ireland. He emigrated to America while young and served in the Civil War for Illinois. He had been competing in walking since 1868 when he won a local championship belt. He had beaten O’Leary in a handicapped race, early in October 1875, walking 90-miles, finishing in 18:49:40, four minutes before O’Leary could reach 100-miles. He was married with five children and eventually had eleven children.
Alvin B. Fifield (1849-) of Jackson, Michigan, was a fine pigeon sharpshooter, but not much of a walker. This would be his first event.
George W. Guyon (1854-), of Canada and Milwaukee, was a brakeman for the Milwaukee and St. Paul Railroad. Two weeks before the race he walked 85 miles from Milwaukee to Chicago in 21:35.
Edward Davis was a butcher from Chicago, who had recently walked for six days at the West Side Rink in Chicago, reaching 430 miles.
James Roach was an Irish-America from Chicago. He had experience as a pedestrian and had recently competed against William O’Shaughnessy in a six-day race in Chicago at Halstead Street Opera House. He reached 150 miles in the first two days.
Morris O’Connor was a policeman from Chicago who had walked long-distances before.
Samuel P. Russell (1853-) was from Chicago.
Hy Hill was from Chicago.
W. F. Stowell was from Chicago.

The Start

During the first day, most of the group walked without long stops until the evening. When most stopped to sleep, Guyon and Smith were leading with 91 miles. Ennis and Anderson both dropped out of the race early, before reaching 50 miles. Ennis had been nursing an injury from being kicked by a horse a few days earlier. Who was the favorite? “It is not so easy to pick out the winner as might have been supposed before the men started. Smith was made the prime favorite, but it is evident that Guyon may proved a very formidable rival.”

Guyon had a lead of five miles after day two with 155 miles. Russell was in second place. Five of the walkers had passed 100 miles. The crowds were further entertained by foot races between men and boys that involved wagering.

After three days, Guyon was in the lead with 225 miles. Four had dropped out. On day four Guyon reached 290 miles, with Russell 20 miles behind. Davis and Roach were “in a very shaky condition.” On day five, Guyon was the sure favorite to win with 350 miles. Russell was in second place with 331 miles and was “walking like a Trojan, with steadiness and pluck.” Smith struggled with a leg that entirely gave out and he had to rest for 12 hours. “A fair crowd was there, and several ladies observed with evident interest from the grandstand.” Staton attempted to ride his bike for 18 miles in an hour, thrilling the crowd. He finished in 62:40, wishing that he had a larger track to ride on. He had to dodge the walkers and also spectators who crossed the track.

The Finish

On the final day, there were only three walkers remaining on the track and most of the citizens of Chicago had lost interest in the race. The side shows got more attention. It was reported, “The walking tournament that has been dragging itself along at the Exposition Building for a week past came to an uninteresting end, and according to posters and handbills, the winner can go forth and proclaim himself the champion pedestrian of the world.”

Guyon won with 412 miles, Russell in second with 401, and Fifeld was third with 363. The awards were not presented at the end. but were promised to be awarded the following day, once they could balance the books. “The comparative failure of the tournament cannot be laid to any fault of the managers, who have done everything and made many sacrifices to ensure success for their undertaking. The poor character of the walking in itself, and the absence of any noted pedestrians (O’Leary or Weston), are causes to which the lack of success may be attributed.”

Sadly, the whole affair was a financial bust that barely covered the costs. Guyon was only awarded the “Field Medal” for his victory and did not receive a cent. “The only man that got his money was Mr. Stanton, the bicycle rider, who held onto Mr. Foley’s arm until he was paid, and then left the city promising never to return to the ‘blasted place.’ Others who were hired for side-shows received nothing. The judges and scorer went about penniless, working the entire week for nothing. If the management are not desirous of being characterized by the community as swindlers of the very worst character, they should rise immediately and make the explanation they claim they are capable of making.”

O’Leary vs Schmehl

In San Francisco, it was announced that O’Leary and Schmehl agreed to compete for six days, hoping to reach 500 miles. O’Leary trained on the ocean beach near Cliff House. He originally had plans to do a solo 150-mile walk in 32 hours for a wager but decided to cancel it to prepare for the six-day match because he knew Schmehl was “too tough a customer to fool wish.” Schmehl arrived in California on the Overland Train in a pullman car on April 27^th. A week before the match, the two were putting on short walking exhibitions around the city to generate interest. Pre-race measurements reported that O’Leary had a stride of 38 inches and Schmehl’s was 41 inches. The prize for the race would be $2,000.

The Olympic Club in San Francisco and Mayor A. J. Bryant (1831-1888), made arrangements for the race to be held in San Francisco’s Mechanics’ Pavilion, the first major indoor arena in San Francisco, seating nearly 11,000 people. Judges and timekeepers were appointed and a sawdust track constructed.

The race began shortly after midnight on May 15, 1876. After nine hours, O’Leary reached 46 miles with about a two-mile lead and passed 100 miles in 22:17. After day one, the score was O’Leary 102 miles, Schmehl, 86. Schmehl was having difficulty with one of his legs and many were betting that he would give out. But he had let people know that he always felt worse for the first two or three days.

Paying spectators increased with each day. “The pedestrians were continuing mile after mile and hour after hour with seemingly unabated vigor and activity.” On Day five in the afternoon, O’Leary completed mile 276 and Schmehl was 57 miles behind, quite sick, and walking very slowly. After day five, O’Leary reached mile 372 with Schmehl at only 254 miles, “and could scarcely drag himself along, resting frequently.”

Henry Schmehl and Daniel O’Leary late in life

Some in the city just could not understand what the attraction was for the event. “Exactly what public good is to be gained, or what of that which is useful is to be added to the store of human knowledge? The world is not benefited by knowing that O’Leary can walk 500 miles within six days.”

At 10 a.m. on day six, O’Leary reached 400 miles, but all knew he would not reach 500 miles. The final tally was 431 miles for O’Leary to 282 miles for Schmehl. Both were seen out on the streets a couple days later, Schmehl walking unsteadily with a cane. He blamed his loss on not being in good condition. The press expressed the opinion that they both failed rather than pointing out that they had accomplished something pretty amazing.

O’Leary vs. Four Amateurs

Before leaving California, O’Leary participated in one more six-day race, again at the Mechanic’ Pavillion in San Francisco. His competitors were four true amateurs, all in their 20s, and all rookie long-distance walkers. They would walk a type of relay against him — their total miles against his. They could come and go as they pleased, logging miles whenever they wanted.

The “amateurs”:

William Prescott Frost Jr. (1850-1885) was the city editor for the San Francisco Evening Post. His two-year-old son, Robert Frost (1874-1963) became the famous American poet. “William P. Frost is a humble worker in the journalistic fraternity and is well-liked among the newspaper workers and has a host of friends.”
George Woodbridge Phelps Jr. (1852-1915) was a reporter for the Daily Alta California
James C Nealon later in life

James Callaghan Nealon (1847-1920) was an Irish-American, a clerk in the sheriff’s office, a champion handball player, avid hunter, horseman, dog breeder and later a state senator.
C. Drogee was a California street stockbroker.

They started right after midnight on Jun 19, 1876. O’Leary didn’t feel great and left the track after 17 miles and needed a long rest. He recovered, and by 10 a.m. reached 27 miles. Drogee had logged 26 miles and Phelps had gone ten miles. In the evening O’Leary reached 91 miles, with the amateurs mileage two miles ahead of him. On day two at noon (36 hours), O’Leary was 20 miles behind with 130. On day three at noon, the amateurs had a total of 252 miles to O’Leary’s 184.

On day four, O’Leary’s doctor forced him to stop for the day. He had been bleeding from his nose almost constantly. The amateurs had collectively walked 316 miles and O’Leary was at 248 miles. To keep up the interest during O’Leary’s absence, two members of the Olympic Club started a race of 150 miles for $100 and a gold watch.

The interest of spectators waned terribly. “This evening a gentleman (Frost) came at 8 p.m., found an array of empty benches to welcome him at the entrance and after walking only two miles, retired in disgust.” O’Leary laid on his back at his hotel with his eyes sunken in his head and his feet “looking like a three-week-old corpse.” It was reported, “The amateurs are nursing their blistered feet and wondering where their share of the gate money is coming from after expenses are paid.”

At midnight after day five, the walk ended abruptly because the gas bill could not be paid and there were not even a dozen spectators present. “It is said that O’Leary will probably never walk again as he burst a blood vessel.” The amateurs had done their best on the last day. Phelps walked 26 miles, Drager 21 miles, and Frost just two. Phelps and Frost claimed the winning watch. “All amateurs have plenty of blisters and callosities.”

O’Leary left California two days later with his reputation tarnished, “having repudiated entirely his contract with the amateurs in the late contest as regards the prizes to be awarded them.”

O’Leary Brawl

Back home in Chicago, on July 20, 1876, O’Leary raced against Schmehl again, this time in a three-day race for 250 miles at McCormick’s Hall in Chicago. It is important to mention because of the controversial outcome. The race turned into a “brawl.” As Schmehl was ahead of O’Leary by about a mile in the afternoon, things got ugly.

“O’Leary, in his efforts to catch up, was accused of breaking into a run, the German part of the audience fairly yelling the charge at him.”

Schmehl’s judge, Alderman Jacob Lengacher (1833-1904), “gave O’Leary a right-hander in the region of the nose.” Things later calmed down and the race continued, but the German audience continued yelling that O’Leary was still cheating. Schmehl, with nearly a three-mile lead, left the track in protest, insisting that O’Leary passed him while running at one of the corners. The referee ruled in favor of Schmehl and declared that Schmehl won the race. “O’Leary mounted a chair and swore that he could lick any ‘damned German’ in the country.” Despite this ugly affair, O’Leary and Schmehl remained life-long friends.

O’Leary walks 500 miles in Six Days at New York City

On August 7, 1876, O’Leary started another 500-mile solo six-day walk at the American Institute Building (former Empire Skating Rink) in New York City. This wasn’t a race, but it nearly torpedoed the sport in the court of public opinion.

O’Leary had wanted to exhibit his skills in New York for the first time and took on the challenge without any specific training and in hot weather. At the start, inside the building it was 90 degrees. Several amateur and professional pedestrians (Edward Mullen and Wilson Reid) walked with him at times. He successfully reached 100 miles during the first 24 hours. To combat the heat, he drank bowls of iced beef tea and sherry with egg. He later gave up the alcohol and instead drank chicken soup.

In the end, O’Leary succeeded in front of 8,000 spectators, reached 500 miles in 143:17:35, and then stopped. “As soon as it was known that O’Leary was on his last round, the barriers were broken down, the benches and chairs were thrown aside or broken, and the multitude rushed forward to see the end. It seemed as though O’Leary would be smothered, but by herculean efforts, his friends managed to rescue and carry him to his room.” It took nearly twenty minutes for the huge crowd to leave the building. “Shouting and hurrahing, they surged into the street and clambered into cars until the vehicles could scarcely be moved, and every side street was full of people, all homeward bound.”

O’Leary was the first person in history to successfully reach 500 miles in six days in New York City and it was the third time he reached the 500-mile milestone. He was the only person in the world at that time with multiple 500-mile six-day accomplishments. His friends presented him with a costly medal made of gold, ornamented with a silver wreath enclosing a shoe and garter, studded with diamonds.

Controversy

Frank Clarke, who accompanied O’Leary 20 miles of the walk, and had been hired to take tickets at the door, published a damaging accusation that the entire city had “been duped by O’Leary.” He said that the track was significantly short, that O’Leary had actually only walked 272 miles. Another critic, Edward Plummer, who was a timekeeper during the week, stated the books were often falsified and that O’Leary only walked 297 miles. He produced a slip of paper that he said had been sent to the judges’ table that read, “Do not put up figures on the board for some time. Try and bring record on books to about 70 miles. Put him up as much as possible.” He said he had credited O’Leary extra miles while he was sleeping and that O’Leary cheated everyone out of payment for their work. Plummer was asked why he was party to the alleged deception, and he only laughed and said that the whole thing was a fraud.

O’Leary countered that Plummer was a liar and had attempted to blackmail him. Plummer had been demanding to be paid $20 extra for his timer duties and said he had credited O’Leary with extra laps. If he wasn’t paid, he would expose the truth. Plummer stated that he did not care about his honor, he wanted the money.

O’Leary wrote that he was convinced that Clarke and Plummer had been trying to blackmail him. “Believing the creatures to be unworthy of public notice, I will dismiss them from my mind, feeling assured that the citizens of New York will place little confidence in the assertions of such men.” It was discovered that Plumber was a shady individual who had several aliases. O’Leary had not been very careful about the men who he hired for the event.

The five judges for the event signed a statement that said Clarke’s accusation was false, that a competent surveyor had measured the track. “To our personal knowledge, Mr. O’Leary passed in front of the judges’ stand 4,000 times which with eight circuits to a mile, clearly proves that he accomplished the distance of 500 miles inside six consecutive days.” The statement did minimal help.

The charges were published nationwide, and O’Leary’s reputation was severely damaged in the minds of many. O’Leary was ready to leave the criticism behind, sail to England, and pull away some of the international attention that Edward Payson Weston was getting there.

The parts of this Six-Day Race series:

Sources:

P. S. Marshall, King of the Peds
The Inter Ocean (Chicago, Illinois), Feb 10, May 15-16, 19, 27, Jul 21, 1876
Chicago Tribune (Illinois), Feb 14 15, Apr 2, 16, 25, 29, May 3, 6-7, 14, 16-18, 20-22, Jul 14, Aug 13, 1876
The Lompoc Record (California), Apr 1, 1876
The Sacramento Bee (California), Apr 10, May 16, 20, 22 1876
Los Angeles Herald (California), Apr 25-26, May 7, 12, 19, Jun 14, 22, 1876
Oakland Tribune (California), May 9, 1876
Los Angeles Evening Express (California), May 15, 23, Jun 19-23, 26, 1876
Los Angeles Daily Star (California), May 18-20, 1876
Sacramento Bee (California), May 20, Jun 22, 1876
New York Daily Herald (New York), Aug 8-13, 18, 20, 1876
New York Times (New York), Aug 9, 1876
The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (New York), Aug 11, 1876
Times Union (Brooklyn, New York), Aug 14, 1876
Democrat and Chronicle (Rochester, New York), Aug 21, 1876
Orleans County Monitor (Barton, Vermont), Sep 11, 1876

104: Six Day Race Part 10: Grand Walking Tournament (1876)

By Davy Crockett