Ultrarunning Stranger Things: Part 3

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By Davy Crockett

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Sadly, some professional walkers and runners from the “pedestrian” era, more than 120 years ago, became afflicted by mental and physical illness during and after six-day runs, likely caused by the powerful drugs and stimulants that were used at the time, and also due to mental stress breakdowns. Enormous pressure was put on them by their financial backers to be successful. Their “trainers” or crew would at times resort to measures that would have long-term effects on the health of their runners to get a short-term financial windfall. Not only would they load their runners full of stimulants, but would use cruel methods to keep them awake, including sticking needles in their skin, whipping them, and waking them up with very loud horns.

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Runners Accused of Becoming Insane

In some cases, runners acted so irrationally that they were declared insane and committed to institutions.

John Gowan

In 1891, John Gowan (real name Robert Sherlock), called “the salvation army walker” participated in a six-day race in Madison Square Garden and had reached 278 miles. Just after midnight, Gowan showed signs of mental trouble. Instead of sleeping during the night he rested while singing gospel hymns.

In the morning he started walking again, but his eyes grew wild and staring, and he let out a wild-west war whoop. “His trainer squeezed a sponge soaked in water and ammonia in his face. Gowan struck his trainer in the face and made a bolt for the Madison Avenue end of the Garden.” He cleared the fence of the track in one leap. “Then the fellow rushed wildly down the paved lobby, cleared the brass railing at the ticket box, and ran out into Madison Square Garden arrayed in all the glory of dirty tights and a bright bule silk jumper. Two policemen gave chase and caught the escaped pedestrian. Bringing him back, the officers lifted him bodily over the rail, and his trainers led him back to his hut and put him to bed. A moment later one of them opened the door to take a peep at the fatigue-crazed pedestrian and Gowan plumped him a singing blow in the face.”

He was then locked in his hut but later broke out, insisting on returning to the track, half naked. A policeman convinced him to change his mind. “The crazed fellow drank nearly a quart of kerosene oil that was in the hut which he had been locked into by the trainers.”

His friends next took him to a room in Putnam House and locked him in. But he escaped through a window and down a fire escape. “Upon reaching the street he sped down 4th Avenue in quicker time than was ever made on the tanbark. At this point he was spied by an officer. When the officer tried to arrest the man, he fought like a tiger and finally assistance had to be called. He was taken to the police precinct and thence in an ambulance to Bellevue hospital.”

It was concluded that his illness was caused by a lack of nourishment. The trainers were accused of giving Gowan so much whisky that it would have knocked out a man. It was believed that he had gone insane. A few days later, he had recovered. “A short rest was all that was needed to restore his mind.” His sister commented that he had not been fit for the severe mental or physical effort demanded by a six-day race. He retired from the sport.

Ultrarunning Fans Committed

Not only would runners be accused of going insane from six-day races, but there was also one case of a spectator acting strangely. In 1888, Julia Finley of New York City had attended a six-day match with great enthusiasm. Afterwards it was said that she was found constantly walking around her apartment, believing that she was beating the world record. “She was committed for examination as to her sanity.”

In 1892, in Reading Pennsylvania, another walking woman was thought to be insane and taken to the state asylums. “She is crazy on walking. For years she read everything she could get about walking matches until she became convinced that she was dominated by the spirits of O’Leary, Rowell, Weston and other great walkers. Whenever she could escape from the house she would go away on a long walk, sometimes not appearing again for days, during which time she would tramp hundreds of miles. Within a year she extended one of her tramps as far as Chicago.”

In 1879, in New York City, strange reports came into the police about a man running down Flatbush Avenue, creating intense fright among some. The man would move out of the way of carriages, but still continue fast. Police officer Hawxhurst took up the chase. Finally, the man was stopped by a night watchman and taken into custody. “He was fairly dripping with perspiration and looked like a man who had just been fished out of the water. His breathing came fast, and he evidently was in a much exhausted condition.” When questioned he pleaded to be allowed to “finish the race.” He was taken to the police station but continued to plunge up and down in an approved pedestrian style. They figured out that “the poor fellow is a hopeless victim of the walking mania, and even when he was put into the cell, he continued to make lap after lap around the narrow circuit.” A doctor suggested they take the prisoner from his cell and be allowed to walk in the yard in the fresh air. The man walked and run for three hours until exhausted then carried back to his cell to sleep for the night. In the morning he awoke and asked to be put on the track. His friends were notified to come and get him.

Former Ultrarunners Never Fully Recover

There were several cases where former pedestrians later experienced some mental illness and their families believed that it had been caused by their ultrarunning. James Noon of Cliffwood, New Jersey, was one such athlete for competed in a six-day race. Several years later in 1903, he was taken to the State Asylum at Trenton, New Jersey, blaming his condition on the effects of that race.

In 1891, in Chicago, John S. Dobler, a former very accomplished professional six-day pedestrian, who had once held the world record for six days limited to 12 hours per day, had been delivering mail for the post office. “Recently he began carrying away everything that attracted his attention in the stores where he left mail. He was declared insane by Judge Scales and was sent to an asylum.” In Dobler’s room were found stolen bottles of cologne, brandy, cigars, and rolls of cloth.

Millie Rose suffered terribly during a race due to taking all sorts of “stimulating fluids including beer and brandy.” She collapsed on the track and during her next match experienced an epileptic seizer while on the track. She was bedridden for the next several months and her abusive husband had her declared insane, left her, and took all her money. Thankfully, she eventually recovered, competed again, and had her husband arrested.

In 1877, people in Princeton, Illinois, believed that walking in a 24-hour match ruined Carrie Parker’s life and drove her to insanity. She had become “a raving maniac” and was brought before a court. “Her father testified that ever since the walking match his daughter had been suffering with great nervous prostration and recently, she suddenly conceived of the idea that her whole body was charged with electricity, and she would not touch her feet to the floor.” She was sent to an asylum.

Health Scares

With the intense emphasis on very lucrative wagers, during this era of ultrarunning, the health of the runner was important, but seemed to be a secondary worry, even with doctors on the scene. Yes, a few deaths even resulted. Doping was not scrutinized. Some runners claimed to not use stimulants, but most did. Some even used powerful drugs to help them keep awake and moving. Doctors would even cut incisions in runner’s thighs to help relieve muscle pressure. The long-term effects resulting in poor health became obvious.

Fainting on the track during a race was common, and something that fascinated spectators. During an 1879 six-day race in San Francisco, William Chenowith, from San Francisco, California, started to act strangely on the track, staggering from side to side as though dizzy. He took a rest, came out again and then fell on the track senseless at about 412 miles. He was carried to his tent and then was seized with a violent vomiting fit. It was rumored that he had been drugged to prevent him from reaching 450 miles. “Another story is the trouble was caused by excessive use of a lotion on his feet, the skin being broken, the poisonous elements in the location getting into his blood, producing effects similar to strychnine. An antidote was administered, reliving him, but his chances were spoiled.” He eventually recovered and competed in other six-day races the following year.

In another race, in 1902, during a six-day race in Philadelphia, Patrick Cavanaugh (1863-1908), of Trenton, New Jersey, also fell on his face on the track. “Without any warning, he suddenly reeled, and fell forward heavily on his face, throwing the spectators in the greatest excitement possible. He was picked up instantly and carried to his dressing room, where he revived in a few minutes.” He was checked out by doctors and was soon back on the track. He went on to win the race with 532 miles.

Sadly, later in the year while working on a building, Cavanaugh fell through an opening between two joists and seriously injured his hips. It was thought that he would be crippled for life, but a few months later he was back to his winning ways. Six years later, while trying to make another comeback in 1908, Cavanaugh became critically ill with peritonitis (likely colon cancer) while training for a race in Erie, Pennsylvania. About a week later he died at the age of 53 during an operation trying to fix his intestinal trouble.

In 1879 during the 5^th Astley Belt Race in Madison Square Garden, William H. Dutcher, (1848-), a railroad fireman from Poughkeepsie, New York, fainted on the track after only 22 miles. He came back but just one mile later staggered and dropped again. “It seemed that he was subject to convulsions. He was laid upon his cot and a physician attended to him. When he recovered consciousness, he begged in the most piteous manner to be allowed to go on the track again. But the doctor said, emphatically, ‘If that man is put on the track again, I will not answer for his life.’” It was said that Dutcher “sobbed like a baby.” He later explained, “I’ve got some trouble with my heart. I chewed a lot of tobacco while training and that brought on the trouble. My heart beats like a trip hammer. If I had gone on, they said it would have killed me.” Dutcher was one of the early ultrarunning frauds, who had cheated during a solo six-day race by bribing timers and judges and skipped out of huge debts. Why he was still allowed to compete is a wonder. After this incident, Dutcher retired from the sport.

During an 1888 six-day race in Madison Square Garden, Joseph Romeo Sullivan, of Bangor, Maine, “the Bangor Ghost” fainted on the track. He received little mercy from his friends. Less than two hours later, his trainers shoved him back on the track. “There is not the ghost of a hope of his covering the 526 miles necessary to entitle him to a share of the boodle, but the poor fellow is pushed on by his friends.” He finished with 383 miles. About ten years later, he died in a poor house.

There were plenty of other heath scares experienced by the runners. Gus Guerrero experienced bleeding from his lungs which scared him. After 400 miles, elite runner Peter Panchot fell on his face from exhaustion and came out with a bruised and cut face. In 1888, John Dillon, a railroad baggage master, of New York City, was running in a six-day race in Madison Square Garden and only needed 20 more miles to earn a lucrative share of the gate money. Several friends had brought the longshoreman a generous supply of “Jersey Lightning” which he drank too freely. Later on, he stopped on the track and refused to go on. Three of his competitors tried to help and took his arms, making him walk with them. But finally, he bolted off the track and refused to go on. He surprisingly withdrew and did not qualify for the huge payday.

Deaths

As professional pedestrianism became more popular, health experts of the era believed that these ultrarunners were severely impacting their life expectancy. “Pedestrian contests have done much harm and any man who makes a practice of six-day walks cannot live to old age, because the strains wasted the nervous and muscular tissues.” Also, “Physicians agree that these protracted strains upon walkers’ system shorten their lives. It is the excess of the exercise that is dangerous.” They of course had no data to back their guesses. In reality, the greats Edward Payson Weston and Daniel O’Leary lived into their 80s and 90s, far longer than the normal life expectancy of that era.

However, premature deaths did occur for assorted reasons. In 1879, William Harris was competing in a six-day event in Louisville, Kentucky, and was running in second place, when he died suddenly from “a congestive chill brought on by his striving to win the prize.” He had reached 300 miles, left the track in exhaustion, and died the next day. Harris had no prior history as an ultrarunner and it was his first attempt to run that distance.

During that same month in 1879, Mr. Lavelle, age 23, was competing in a walking match at Woonsocket, Rhode Island. He soon became ill and died in a few hours. He also was a rookie runner. David L. Hoag (1846-1880), another rookie runner, died in 1880 two days after a match in Glens Falls, New York. According to the coroner inquest, his death was because of the stimulants and morphine that were administered to him during a race. “One of the contestants says that the backers and trainer of the walker repeatedly gave him morphine without the doctor’s knowledge and that one of the accused parties was seen personally kicking Hoag while in the ring in a collapsing condition to rouse him to action to win the race, which he did.”

The trainer, Richard H. Nichols was arrested for manslaughter, although the grand jury would be asked to indict him on first degree murder. “Hoag became so exhausted by over-exertion and improper care and ill treatment on the track and neglect after that race that he expired.”

The New York Tribune thought the charges were ridiculous. “Nichols could have had no felonious desire to kill Hoag. On the contrary, his paramount desire must have been to keep him alive. His judgment may have been bad. He may have been criminally reckless and may have rendered himself liable to some penalty, but most certainly he did not commit murder in the first degree.” No results of the case were found.

In 1879, Benjamin Fowler (1923-1899), a store clerk, age 56, and George Leck competed in a six-day match at Flushing, Long Island, New York. It was a very close race. They were only two miles apart during the last day, but Fowler started to show signs of failing. “He fell three times on the track but would not quit it in spite of the advice of his trainers. Fowler continued to lose time up to the finish, and Leck came in the winner. Fowler made 368 miles and was carried from the track in critical condition. It is feared he will die.” Fowler retired from ultrarunning, continued in poor health, and in 1880 moved to Omaha, Nebraska, for a time, hoping to get better. He lived until 1899, died at the age of 76, and at the time was one of the oldest residents of Flushing.

Two young men of Newburgh, New York died and were said to have walked into their graves. Elijah Van Keuren was very active in walking early matches around New York City. “When he began, he enjoyed excellent health, but after walking awhile he began to fail, and then rapidly fell into hasty consumption (tuberculosis) and died.” James “Hoppy” Crawford, age 23, successfully walked 100 miles in 24 miles. “After completing the task, he was as perfect wreck. Crawford died of consumption after lingering for several months.”

In 1879, Clarence G. Howard (1859-1879), a twenty-year-old young man, a laborer in a brick yard, who had taken part in various long-distance pedestrian matched on Long Island and Brooklyn, New York, died at his home on Long Island, “from prostration caused by excessive exercise.” He is buried in Huntington Rural Cemetery.

In 1903, Tom Cox (1846-1903), age 47, a former six-day pedestrian, who was coaching a track team for Christian Brother’s College at St. Louis, Missouri, was murdered. One evening, he went to visit one of his students and while returning home at midnight, he was stopped by a man who stepped out from behind a billboard. “He commanded Cox to throw up his hands and upon his refusal to do so, repeated the demand. Then Cox hit him over the head with an umbrella and in return was shot in the abdomen.” He was taken to the hospital and had emergency surgery, but sadly, later died. “Cox was one of the best-known long-distance pedestrians in this country and had participated in matches in nearly every important city in it, besides making several trips abroad.”

Suicides

Sadly, a pattern of suicides afflicted many of these ultrarunners of the 1800s. There were likely many reasons, but it was common for successful runners to pile up a fortune of winnings, only to see it gone within a few years due to wild spending, gambling, or from being swindled. Health issues were also a factor.

1880 census

In 1881, Joseph Allen (1846-1881), age 35, a very accomplished six-day pedestrian who once walked 525 miles in Madison Square Garden, but failed in his last race, was found dead on a road near North Adams, Massachusetts. “The physician’s verdict was heart disease, although a man of his description jumped from a railroad train late Monday night at a point where his body was found. Allen participated in the last three six-day go-as-you-please pedestrian contests in New York City. He leaves a wife and several children in Adams, where he made his home since coming from Carlisle, England.”

In 1883, Charles M. Mitchell (1852-1920) of Concord, New Hampshire, a well-known local pedestrian, attempted suicide by cutting his throat with a razor. He had been ill for some weeks and thankfully did not cut deep enough to do serious harm.

In 1888, J. M. White, a bookkeeper and pedestrian from Georgia, attempted suicide by swallowing a number of morphine pills.

In 1895, Albert Wall, of Australia, a professional pedestrian while suffering from “delirium tremens,” (a psychotic condition typical of withdrawl from drugs, involving hallucinations), jumped from a high building. “His head was smashed to pieces on the pavement.”

The Sad Story of Mattie Potts

In 1879, Mattie Potts (1834-1882), a female pedestrian, and actress from New York City, attempted a 2,600-mile walk from Philadelphia to New Orleans and back in five months. She claimed that she recently walked 225 miles in a six-day race, rested a week and then began. She said she was a widow, had four children, but was now childless. She walked, carrying a cane covered with skulls and bones, which was a piece of an old umbrella, and a small satchel that included a revolver inside. She said her efforts were being made in order to win a $10,000 prize, or $5,000 (the number kept changing.)

Potts was described as blonde, tall and bony. “She wears a jaunty white straw hat, trimmed with blue ribbon, a short black walking dress and store shoes. She explains that she thirsts for glory.” She kept notes as she journeyed and hoped to write a book. She generally walked on railroads and sent her luggage ahead down the line. Somehow, she found time and energy to put on paid walking exhibitions in evenings along the way. Curiously, she sometimes arrived in towns on a train. She complained about towns that would charge her for meals.

Potts said in Alabama she had trouble with a train. “A gravel train backed upon her while she was on a bridge and she jumped on an iron bridge support and swung herself over the water and hung there.” Along the way she had eleven proposals for marriage.

Somehow, she completed her promised journey. She was a celebrity but did not receive the money. It was discovered that the $5,000 bet had never been finalized before she started her walk. Building on her perceived fame, she tried to put on walking exhibitions in New York City and Baltimore, in a garden and a saloon, but those were financial failures. Within a month, she attempted suicide “by placing her head on the railroad track. Poverty and failure to find employment led to the act.” Someone noticed her in time and thwarted the attempt.

In her pocket was found a note that included, “I am about to do a rash act, which I hope the world will forgive me doing. It is nearly five weeks since I returned to Philadelphia. I was in debt for one week’s board and I was politely told by the proprietor that I could stay no longer.” She tried to get employment but rejected over and over again. She concluded, “I want my body given to the medical students in Philadelphia. I am perfectly sane, but I have nothing to live on nor nothing to live for. So good-bye to the world.”

She was locked up for the night at the police station because attempting suicide at that time was a crime. “Whenever the long, shrill whistle of the trains speeding by near the police station were heard, the woman started up and begged to be let out that she might go and throw herself under the locomotive.”

The next day, she was given a hearing in front of a magistrate. “She related that she was in an unfortunate marriage, her husband being a dissipated fellow, who died three years ago after the birth of three children. She had employment in a suit store and was thrown into the pedestrian business afterwards as an alternative against starvation.” She also explained that at the exhibitions in New York City and Baltimore, she had been swindled, became disgusted and contemplated suicide. When asked as to who it was that swindled her, she declined to state. She said she felt well physically, but mentally had not improved, and if she did not get employment, she would try again to consummate her suicidal intentions.

The judge was smart and believed that she wasn’t really a suicide threat, that she was just trying to generate sympathy and publicity. A well-known lady took interest in her and started to collect donations for her.

Analyzing her walking pace, destinations, and her story along the way printed in many newspapers, her walk was a fraud and she took railroad rides. She stayed for free at hotels and received many presents along the way. About a year later, she was seen “tramping across the continent” along with other frauds taking advantage of the sympathies of the public. “When last heard from, she was in Nevada. She carries a bundle in which she had clothing and provisions, and tramps along the road making an average from 25-30 miles a day.” It is believed that she died three years later, in 1883.

Ultrarunning Stranger Things Series:

Sources:

Tom Osler and Ed Dodd, Ultra-marathoning: The Next Challenge
P. S. Marshall, King of Peds
The Ottawa Free Trader (Illinois), Jun 23, 1877
The Stark County Democrat (Canton, Ohio), Nov 14, 1878
Chicago Daily Telegraph (Illinois), Mar 4, 1879
Chicago Tribune, Apr 4, May 23, 1879
The Philadelphia Times (Pennsylvania), Apr 15, Sep 23, Nov 1-15. 1879
San Francisco Chronicle (California), Oct 8, 1879
Selma Dollar Times (Alabama), Oct 15, 1879
Richmond Dispatch (Virginia), Nov 14, 1879
Boston Globe (Massachusetts), Mar 1, 1880
Burlington Free Press (Vermont), April 1, 1880
New York Tribune (New York), Apr 15, 1880
The Valley Sentinel (Carlisle, Pennsylvania), Jul 16, 1880
The Boston Globe (Massachusetts), May 28, 1883
The Macon Telegraph (Georgia), Sep 24. 1884
The Evening World (New York, New York), Feb 8, 1888
The Evening Mail (Stockton, California), May 19, 1888
The Kansas City Star (Missouri), Feb 23, 1891
The Evening World (New York, New York), Mar 19, 1891
The Standard Union (Brooklyn, New York), Mar 19, 1891
The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (New York), May 13, 1879, Mar 22, 1880, Mar 20, 1891
Interstate News-Record (Ironwood, Michigan), Apr 18, 1891
St. Louise Globe-Democrat (Missouri), Mar 31, 1892
The Age (Melbourne, Australia), Apr 25, 1895
The Philadelphia Inquirer (Pennsylvania), Nov 14, 1879, Mar 14, 1902
The Indianapolis Star (Indiana), Aug 26, 1903
The Philadelphia Inquirer (Pennsylvania), Nov 10, 1902, Feb 10, 1908
The Journal (Meriden, Connecticut), Mar 19, 1908

113: Ultrarunning Stranger Things – Part 3: Sickness and Death

By Davy Crockett