The Six-Day Race Part 3: P.T. Barnum – Ultrarunning Promoter

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By Davy Crockett

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The ultimate showman, P.T. Barnum of circus fame, was surprisingly the first serious ultrarunning promoter and established the first six-day race in America. He was famous for the saying “There’s a sucker is born every minute,” and figured out how to get America to come out by the thousands to watch skinny guys walk, run and suffer around a small indoor track for hours and days as part of his “Greatest Show on Earth” presented in the heart of New York City. In this episode, details of Barnum’s connection to ultrarunning history are told for the first time.

In part one of this six-day series, Foster Powell started it all in 1773 in England, seeking to reach 400 miles in less than six days. In part two, nearly a century later, the challenge was restored in America with the famous walker Edward Payson Weston, who was both cheered and ridiculed. As this third part opens, Weston seeks more than anything to reach 500 miles in six days, which had never been accomplished before. He had failed in his first serious attempt, reaching “only” 430 miles and was called by some, “The Great American Fizzler.” P.T. Barnum soon enters the story to lend support.

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Edward Mullen Seeks 500 Miles in Six Days

Weston’s failure to reach 500 miles spurred others to give it try, even those with little experience, in an attempt to cash in on wagers. A key figure in this history, Edward Mullen, of Boston, Massachusetts, came on the stage in 1874 to try to steal the spotlight from Weston. Mullen was a talented ten-mile walker, but unproven at ultra-distances. His “500 miles in six days” attempt came at the Washington Riding Academy at 26th Street and 6th Ave in New York City.

It was reported, “Mullen has never, previous to the present time, engaged in any walking match for any long distance, the longest race hitherto being twelve miles.” Mullen began his pedestrian career only a year earlier in July 1873 at Beacon Trotting Park, Boston, when he won a short-distance walking race. That was the first of many impressive wins up to ten miles. But it seemed rather bold for him to go after the 500-mile six-day barrier.

The track for his attempt was said to be 17.3 laps to a mile (305 feet). He began his quest at 12:24 a.m. on June 15, 1874. “Mullen was dressed in full walking costume, consisting of white Guernsey, blue silk trunks and white hose, with Oxford shoes. He is somewhat slimly built, is about five feet ten inches high and weighs 130 pounds. As he turned to commence his journey, he started off somewhat slowly, his step, however, being elastic and springy.”

He finished his first mile, in a very surprisingly fast time of 7:22. On day one, he accomplished the 115-mile 24-hours task, beating Weston’s 115-mile time by five minutes. At that point he collapsed and had to be carried off the track by his backers. By day three, the determined Mullen had reached 233 miles on very swollen legs, one mile ahead of Weston’s failed pace.

Fraud Detected

On day four, an observant New York Daily Herald reporter suspected that a “trick” was taking place as he counted Mullen’s paces per lap. “The Herald reporter watched for some hours and finally concluded that the pace at which Mullen was walking did not agree with the time announced. This aroused a suspicion that there was something wrong with the track and that the walk was not an honest one.” He also noticed that Mullen was taking rests more than twice as long as Weston had during his walk, and yet Mullen kept pace somehow. Also odd, Mullen’s respiration was very labored after walking a stretch of only a few miles. This all didn’t add up right.

The reporter paced off the track and knew it was short. Others got involved and finally the reporter obtained a surveyor’s tape, and the track was measured to be 65 feet short. Instead of the published 305 feet per lap, it was 240 feet. This was significant, the track was actually 22 laps to a mile, not the advertised 17.3. Instead of covering 115 miles the first day, Mullen had only covered 90 miles, if indeed the lap count was faithful. After day three he wasn’t at mile 233, he was at mile 183.

Mullen claimed innocence, that he was unaware of the mismeasurement and continued walking. He wrote a letter to the Herald complaining bitterly about the accusations against him and the letter was posted in the hall for all the spectators to read. Even with this discovery, his timekeepers did not correct the mileage in their books. He claimed to reach 365 miles after day four. With poor math skills, Mullen walked an extra 30 laps (1.4 miles) in 17 minutes, thinking that would make up for what he thought was a minor track measurement error.

After six days, he finished in front of only 250 people, and claimed that he reached 434 miles. In reality, he did not come even close to 400 miles, at most 343 miles, and the entire event was fraudulent. If it were more widely known, it could have torpedoed the future glory days if Pedestrianism before it even started. Mullen vowed to try again on a properly measured track.

P. T. Barnum Promotes the Six-Day Challenge in America

P.T. Barnum (1810-1891) began his career as a showman in 1841 when he created “Barnum’s American Museum” on Broadway at New York City. His fame and fortune grew, and in 1870 he established a traveling circus, menagerie, and museum of “freaks” called, “P. T. Barnum’s Travelling World’s Fair, Great Roman Hippodrome and Greatest Show on Earth.”

The Hippodrome

New York City was starved for diversion from harsh everyday life. In 1874 Barnum established his travelling circus on an entire New York City block between 4^th and Madison Avenue, between 26^th and 27^th Street. Today, the New York Life Building stands on this spot on Manhattan, which was the scene for a decade of the earliest American six-day races.

New York Life Building, where the Hippodrome once stood.

William Henry Vanderbilt (1821-1885) owned the property and leased it to Barnum. The site had been used by an old Harlem and New Haven railroad depot. Barnum rented the train sheds there, opened a museum, and constructed a “Hippodrome.” This was initially an open-are venue with a removable light canvas roof, giving it a “big-top” feeling, the first stadium with a retractable roof in the United States. It was a rather simple structure consisting of an elongated dirt oval surrounded by wooden bleachers. Balconies that hung low over the main floor were later installed, bringing the venue’s capacity to ten thousand. It was enclosed by a three-story brick wall. The buildings constructed cost Barnum $200,000 (4.8 million in today’s value).

The performance area was a massive 400 feet by 200 feet, larger than a football field. It included performance rings and a track to host chariot races. Barnum’s new creation was opened on April 27, 1874. It was soon reported, “Barnum’s Hippodrome with its rich pageants, displays of strange animals and exciting races, continues to attract mammoth audiences.”

Barnum officially named the new arena the “Grand Roman Hippodrome” and declared it the “largest amusement building ever constructed.” Indeed, the Hippodrome housed the largest indoor gathering of people ever assembled together in New York City up to that point.

A mobile Hippodrome was also created, a series of tents that could be moved from city to city that could accommodate 10,000 spectators. The traveling tent Hippodrome would go to Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. But it was at New York City, where he created a Hippodrome using a building, and it stayed there for about a year.

Barnum’s First Short Pedestrian events

Barnum looked for ways to boost attendance during the final weeks of the summer Hippodrome season. During late June 1874, he held an “Amateur Athletic Week” where various athletic competitions were held, including pole vaulting, rope climbing, standing long jump, and a one-mile running race conducted on Jun 26, 1874. “The mile race had but two entries, won by Thomas Harriss. The other competitor, Kiernan, having the misfortune to lose one of his shoes before that race was half over.”

For the next evening, the race was expanded to ten entries. But only five finished. J. Downie of the New York Caledonian Club won the race by six inches, in 5:13. That night a half-mile walking race was also held with fourteen walkers. Prizes included medals, diamond and gold lockets, and silver goblets.

Postman Races

Barnum smartly saw the financial attraction of including Pedestrians in his show. He next included amusing one-mile walking matches between letter carriers from New York City, walking on a soft dirt track. The entertainment, stating on July 5, 1874, was an immediate success, proving that spectators would respond well to this type of entertainment.

“Mr. Ed McIntyre, carried off the prize amid outbursts of enthusiasm from his fellow carriers. The attendance last night was good, but owing to eager efforts of the contestants, the first two laps were walked by more than half the entries in anything but heel and toe style. After one or two of the carriers had been taken off, the rest fell into a better step and the walk was finished in an unexceptional manner.” These races continued for a week and the best time was 9:03.

Barnum promotes the Six-Day Event

Finally, Barnum decided to sign up a more serious pedestrian. Edward Mullen agreed to again attempt his 500-mile six-day walk, this time on a properly measured track. The Hippodrome would welcome paying spectators day and night for 50 cents each. It was a pretty brilliant idea, but did Barnum sign up the right pedestrian? Mullen was billed as “the champion walker of the world,” but, had not won any ultra-distance championships. Nevertheless, Barnum had confidence in Mullen and accepted a $5,000 bet from a gentleman from the West who was sure Mullen would fail.

An oval track was positioned in the inner ring of the Hippodrome for Mullen to walk on, measured at 600 feet in length, or 8.8 laps to a mile. The location for the track would allow him to continue walking while other programs were going on. Judges were put into place to make sure the effort was legitimate this time, “to not encounter any of the difficulties which, as alleged, prevented the success of his previous attempt. The track is a fine one. The pedestrian is in tip-top condition and confident of success. His friends feel confident that he will accomplish this feat which has never yet been accomplished.”

Mullen was described as being a small, think man, “with more activity and tenacity of purpose than physical strength.” His walk began at 12:05 a.m. on July 20, 1874. He reached 40 miles in eight hours and then stopped for breakfast and a rest for 45 minutes. His mile times were degrading toward 15-minute miles

Mullen reached 51 miles in the afternoon and then rested as the “Grand Congress of Nations” was presented in the Hippodrome with hundreds of performers. He then continued going at a stronger pace. “The pedestrian does not propose attempting any extraordinary bursts of speed, but simply intends to keep up to his average of a little more than 83 miles a day.” It was surprising to see that so many spectators stayed between the major performances to watch Mullen walk.

As Mullen walked in the afternoon and evening, amateur athletic contests took place at the same time including pole-vaulting, rope-climbing, standing long jump, weightlifting, pole-climbing, shot put, wrestling, high jump, foot boxing, and various footraces. It was a rough first day for Mullen. Rain fell for three hours and penetrated through the canvas tent cover, making the track heavy with mud. By the end of the first day, Mullen only reached 66 miles. “He is walking rather slow but appears to look well.” But another account wrote, “His left knee is much swollen and it is believed he will fail.” It was rumored that he would be replaced by another pedestrian.

On day two, Mullen struggled, but during the morning clocked an 8:20 mile that encouraged his backers. But he only completed another 33 miles on day two, for 100 miles total and complained about his sore knee. His condition improved on the next day, but his miles were still slow with a total of only 140 miles in three days. “Mullen continues to drag along without the least possibility of completing 500 miles within six days. His knee is still swollen, and his rest are very frequent.” After walking only 18 miles the fourth day, he gave up (or was fired) at 10:30 p.m. for a total of 158 miles in four days.

It was reported, “He fell so disgracefully short of the mark, last night, that the manager of the hippodrome at the conclusions of the performance put a stop to the affair.” Mullen would never accomplish much in the future at long-distance walking.

Sadly, on the next evening, a lady riding in a hurdle race became fatally injured when her horse hit a hurdle, did a complete somersault and she crashed into the hurdle too. She died a couple days later. It had been the fourth death from accident in the Hippodrome during the past month. Safety for performers obviously was a serious problem.

Cornelius Payn walks in the Hippodrome

Despite Mullen’s failure, the pedestrian event was a success and Barnum immediately signed up Edward Payson Weston’s rival, Cornelius Noble Payn (1847-1914) of Albany New York, to walk during the final week of the Hippodrome’s season. Payn started competing in 100-milers in 1868. He was about 5 feet 8 inches, 123 pounds, and described as “a lithe, wiry, well-formed unassuming, intelligent young man.” He had quickly become a very prolific 100-mile walker, sometimes competing at the distance multiple times within just a few weeks. He had beaten Weston twice in head-to-head 100-mile races, in 1868 and 1869.

In the Hippodrome, Payn attempted to walk 115 miles in less than 24 hours, a feat that Weston had already accomplished. He started at 9:04 p.m. on July 29, 1874, and walked his first mile in 10:20. “He was dressed in a gauze shirt, black velvet knee breeches, red stockings, and low walking shoes. He began walking with a light, springing stride.” But in the end, Payn’s effort was a bust too. He only reached 67.5 miles in 24 hours.

The Hippodrome Closes for the Summer

After August 1, 1874, the Hippodrome closed for the season. It had been a successful enterprise that had employed more than 1,150 people, averaged 12,000-15,000 spectators daily, with expenses of nearly $4,000 per day. Late at night, the animals were rounded up, costumes packed away, and the spectacles were loaded on multiple trains of up to fourteen cars to head for Boston. “The street presented a weird appearance, the numerous torches casting fantastic shadows on the unusual spectacle. The first car was loaded with the cage containing the rhinoceros. Then followed the cages containing the performing lions.” Sadly, the brakeman on a circus train was tragically killed on the way while standing on top of a car. His head hit a bridge at West Haven, New York. Barnum’s mobile Hippodrome opened under tents just three days later.

While the circus was away, it was planned to transform the immense New York Hippodrome into a winter theater for the exhibition of “monster equine dramatic performances.” This required Barnum to replace the canvas roof for a light iron roof, about eight feed higher, that would support the weight of snow and include three rows of movable glass skylights that could still allow building ventilation. The interior of the building would receive no changes except for the installation of seventeen huge furnaces. They hoped to reopen in six weeks, by September 20, 1874.

Even with this planned work going on, a fall season was scheduled to allow a portion of the arena to be used for events such as plays, tournaments, and yes pedestrian exhibitions.

George Avery Attempts 500 miles in the Boston Hippodrome

Continuing with the Pedestrian successes, Barnum signed up George F. Avery (1854-1885), age 20, of Boston, originally from Maine, to attempt to reach 500 miles in six days under his Boston tent Hippodrome. “The Pedestrian will at all times be in full view of the audience, and entirely independent of the Grand Course, upon which brilliant races will be exhibited as usual.”

Avery had some pedestrian experience. He started his walking career at the early age of eighteen in Boston, competing at 25 miles and then stepped up to 100-milers. In June 1874, he walked 100 miles in Manchester, New Hampshire at a riding park in 21:40.

At the Boston Hippodrome, Avery started his 500-mile quest on August 10, 1874, at 12:05 a.m., but became quite ill during the day. It was observed, “It has been evident from the start that he was in very poor condition to perform his allotted task.”

On day two, he reached 78 miles by breakfast at 7 a.m. But during the afternoon, he “broke down” at the entrance of “the Congress of Nations” after reaching 101 miles in a very slow 39:18. “He had an attack of vomiting and his attendants from his condition were at once satisfied that he could not safely continue the attempt. His condition did not improve, and the attempt was given up.”

With yet another 500-mile failure, other pedestrians declared that no man living could walk the 500-mile distance in six days. The press was kind and wrote, “The attempt was squarely made, and if he had been in good condition, the result would have been far different if not entirely successful.” Avery declared that he would try again in two months, and he hired the English pedestrian, John Haydock to handle him. But Avery later gave up his attempts at six-days, continued his pedestrian career at shorter distances, and called himself, “P.T. Barnam’s Great Pedestrian.”

Barnum promotes Weston’s Second Six Day Attempt

With the circus away from New York City, a pedestrian event could still be held to bring in thousands into the Hippodrome. Barnum signed up Edward Payson Weston (1839-1929) to bring his next “500-miles in six days” attempt into the Hippodrome during September 1874. Barnam understood the big money the event would bring in from spectators 24 hours a day. He promised that he would pay Weston’s wife a prize of $5,000 if Weston succeeded and $1,000 if he failed.

In preparation, the Hippodrome was repainted and refurnished. A surveyed track was laid for Weston to walk on. It measured seven laps to a mile. The place was thoroughly cleaned from the completed roof construction. Judges were selected. Weston slept during the afternoon and evening before his start at the home of Professor Doremus who had assisted him on previous six-day efforts. Weston was shaved and put in his running outfit by his black servant, Thomas B. Ockerme (1845-1920) of Brooklyn, a civil war veteran. Weston then made his appearance at the Hippodrome. “On his arrival, he received a Russian leather cap, studded with flowers in red, white, and green from famous English actor Edward Askew Sothern.

Could Weston really do it this time? He started his six-day walk on September 14^,1874, right after midnight at 12:03 a.m. in front of only 200 people. When the word “Go” was yelled, he said, “Don’t expect too much as first, but I’ll accomplish it, sure.” He received applause, gave a bow, and then started his walk. His first mile was timed at 12:44. He reached mile 19 at 3:54:11. He made some stops during the first night but struggled to sleep.

Barnum arrived in the city coming from Baltimore, Maryland, where his circus was performing. He planned to be present at the walk every day. From early morning until late at night the people kept flocking into the building. Weston struggled during the early miles feeling “heavy and oppressed.” At only 32 miles, he had stomach issues. He laid on his cot and was fed with chicken broth and coffee. But for the rest of the day, he felt “squeamish and out of sorts.” Eventually he was taken off the track to his room where a doctor gave him a sedative and laxative. But rest did not come when he needed it. He went back out and received loud cheers when he reached 50 miles. This gave him renewed vigor and he reached 65 miles during his first 24 hours.

On day two, after six hours of sleep during the night, he went another 70 miles despite contending with a large blister. To get back on schedule, he was determined to walk 90 miles on the third day. But he only reached 70 more miles, for a total of 205 miles. Barnum came down into the ring and walked the track several laps with Weston, thrilling the crowd.

In the morning Weston “staggered round the track and gesticulated alarmingly.” He was put to bed in the afternoon with a heart rate of 140 and diagnosed with “congestion of the brain.” After resting, he still would not give up and reached 224 miles after day four and 278 after day five. He proclaimed that he would walk 100 miles on the last day, but his doctor would not allow him to try. He added 48 more miles, reaching a total of 326 miles, including walking a half mile backward near the end. “He then mounted the judges’ stand and thanked the spectators for their attendance. Three cheers were given for him.”

Reaction to Weston’s Failure

The public criticism across the country to Weston’s second “failure” at reaching 500 miles in six days was brutal: “As a failist, Weston is a success.” In Chicago, the headline was, “Another Weston Fizzle.” In Detroit, it was simply: “As Usual.” In Rutland, Vermont he was called “The Great Failist.” In Pittsburgh: “Weston, the walkist, doesn’t amount to much when footed up.” In San Francisco: “This effort has been the worst failure he ever made.” Boston agreed, “the failure is his worst. Now let him rest a few centuries or so.” At Rochester, New York: “With every failure, this remarkable man becomes more cheerful and exasperating.” Harrisburg Pennsylvania wanted him to stop, “What an egregious humbug the man is, and what enormous fools are those who encourage him.”

A Dr. John B. Rich (1810-1910), who would live to be 100 years old, a perceived expert in physical fitness, published reasons why Weston failed again. He said that Weston violated every known physical law of walking, with the way he carried his head over his chest and because he would swing his arms in a way that twisted his body side to side with each step. He also criticized Weston’s diet of chicken which he said was the most indigestible of meats with little nutrition. Beef or mutton was the best for men engaged in protracted exertions. “The man will always fail as long as he has his own way. He should be a machine with no will of his own. He will always fail unless he allows himself to be trained by men of sense.”

Weston’s Third Six-Day Attempt

If you fail, try, try again. Barnum wasn’t disappointed by Weston’s performance and the money it brought in. He immediately responded positively to a request to allow Weston to come back and try for the third time, again offering $5,000 (worth about $120,000 in 2021 value) if he reached 500 miles. More in the press were critical. “If he fails, it will, the truth must be told, it will disappoint nobody in particular.”

Just two weeks after his last failed attempt, on October 5, 1874, Weston started his third 500-mile six-day attempt, again in Barnum’s Hippodrome. He said, “This time I will surely make it.” He started impressively, got rid of his velvet suit after three miles, reached 25 miles in 4:54 and 50 miles in 10:35. Between miles 85-95, he was attacked by waves of drowsiness. The solution? Being rubbed with whisky and strong liniment. He called it a day after reaching 101 miles, then laid down on a cot, was examined by a doctor, and then carried to his room for six hours of sleep.

Weston’s attempt crumbled again. On day four, he only walked sixteen miles with a total of 245 up to that point. A severe blood blister on a toe was big problem for him. An observer wrote, “This little patch of extravagated blood had set itself against the pluck, and resolution and endurance of the grittiest man alive and beaten him.” His attendants tried everything to solve the problem with lotions and cotton. “In the seats above, scores of men and women sat with their necks craned eagerly forward, their whole attention absorbed in the contemplation of two swollen feet and ten inflamed toes.” Some expressed no sympathy, just viewing Weston as one of the “properties” in Barnum’s show. It makes you wonder what he could have done with modern shoes.

Even though Weston’s 500-mile goal was out of reach again, he still got up and continued. “After one or two efforts, the lines about his mouth deepen into an expression of intense pain. He cannot stand still, but staggers, and rolls and tumbles against his attendants who are pulling to pieces his stretcher and removing the debris of bandages scattered about. He is what is called ‘groggy.’ After a few moments more of shuffling about, he catches the eye of the timekeeper, throws the butt of his whip into the air, and starts off down the track amid a shout from the crowd. His walk is a strange, shambling, and shuffling gain that suggest a drunken camel walking on hot plates.”

He revived again, and as the band played was bouncing along at a lively pace, but whenever the band would stop, his rhythm of stride was slow. “After a time, his legs began to grow numb with exertion and then he resorted to whipping them with the little riding switch he carried.” On day four he reached only 286 miles and, in the end, finished with 345 miles. His doctors said he had a severe infection in his left foot.

Strike Three – Weston is Out?

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle wrote critically, “Edward Payson Weston has achieved another successful failure. He has not walked 500 miles in six days, and we doubt that he has ever felt himself able to do so. We had no hard feelings toward him, but we challenge his right to occupy so much attention. The world is too busy with politics to care about phenomenal pedestrianism, especially such as invariably falls below the expectations it bids for. We advise Mr. Weston in all seriousness to walk off on his ear. The habit of walking is a bad habit. Exercise is just what people ought not to take. What this country needs is rest, not rush.”

The Times Union in Brooklyn agreed, “The public has had quite enough of this sort of thing. The truth is this walking business is fast degenerating into humbug.” The paper was convinced that Weston was unequal to the task of walking 500 miles in six days. “Let us have more walking, but less Westonism.” The Brooklyn Union accused Weston of having “an insane delusion” that he could accomplish the feat. The Brooklyn Argus thought Weston could have a bright future but would not experience it until “somebody saws off his legs.”

The New York Herald wanted Weston to go away, wishing that his next 500-mile attempt would be a point-to-point walk away from New York City. “If he will go away as far and as fast as his legs can carry him and stay away, we shall never call him a humbug or a nuisance anymore, but calmly forgive and forget him.” In Buffalo, New York, they called him, “the greatest and most offensive of American humbugs.” It was suggested that Weston next try to walk around the globe, starting from New York City, “and go halfway around, and there stop till sent for.”

Would Weston ever succeed in walking 500 miles in six days? Stay tuned for the next part in the six-day history.

The parts of this Six-Day Race series:

Sources

Andy Milroy, The History of the 6 Day Race
P. S. Marshall, King of the Peds
P. S. Marshall, Weston, Weston, Rah-Rah-Rah!
William L. Slout, Rags to Ricketts and Other Essays on Circus History
T. Barnum, Barnum’s Own Story: The Autobiography of P.T. Barnum
Times Union (Brooklyn, New York), Jul 9, 1874
New York Times (New York), Jun 28, Jul 17, Aug 14, Oct 9-10, 1874
New York Tribune (New York), Jun 16-20, Jul 30, Sep 16, 1874
New York Daily Herald (New York), Jun 15, 19, 1874
The Vermont Record and Farmer (Brattleboro, Vermont), Jun 26, 1874
The Brooklyn Sunday Sun (New York), Jul 19, 1874
The Omaha Evening Bee (Nebraska), Jul 21, 1874
The Tribune (Scranton, Pennsylvania), Jul 21, 1874
The Meriden Daily Republican (Connecticut), Jul 21, 1874
The Yonkers Gazette (New York), Jul 18, 1874
Boston Evening Transcript (Boston, Massachusetts), Jul 21-23, Aug 3, 12, 1874
The Meriden Daily Republican (Connecticut), Jul 22, 1874
The Boston Globe (Massachusetts), Jul 24, 1874
The Muscatine Journal (Iowa), Jul 24, 1874
The Herald and Torch Light (Hagerstown, Maryland), Jul 29, 1874
Boston Post (Massachusetts), Jun 22, Aug 3, 6, 27 1874
The Rutland Daily Globe (Aug 1, 1874)
The Brooklyn Union (New York), Sep 14, Oct 9, 12, 15, 1874
The Brooklyn Sunday Sun (New York), Oct 11, 1874
The Luzerne Union (Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania), Sep 23, 1874
The Sun (New York, New York), Jul 21, Sep 14-25, Oct 9, 1874
The United Opinion (Bradford, Vermont), Oct 3, 1874
The Pall Mall Gazette (London, England), Jun 4, 1874
The Daily Milwaukee News (Wisconsin), Sep 20, 1874
Reading Times (Pennsylvania), Oct 5, 1874
The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (New York), Oct 10, 1874
Chicago Tribune (Illinois), Oct 8, 1874
Kings County Rural Gazette (Brooklyn, New York), Jan 24, 1874
The Buffalo Commercial (New York), Oct 14, 1874

94: Six-Day Race Part 3: P.T. Barnum – Ultrarunning Promoter (1874)

By Davy Crockett