Ultrarunning Stranger Things – Part 13: The Strange and Tragic

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By Davy Crockett

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In 1882 it was declared, “The six-day walking matches are the sickest swindles gamblers have yet invented for defrauding a virtuous public.” Well, many of both the public and the running participants were not the most virtuous people on the planet at that time, contributing to the wild strange stories that continually occurred related to the sport of ultrarunning/pedestrianism.

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Also, this opinion expressed in the New York Herald was common, “A six-day walking match is a more brutal exhibition than a prize fight or a gladiatorial contest. In the last half of a six-day walk, nearly every contestant is vacant minded or literally crazy, he becomes an unreasoning animal, whom his keepers find sometimes sullen, sometimes savage, but never sensible.” During this era from 1875-1909, at least 400 six-day races were competed worldwide with millions of paid spectators. The stranger things that occurred related to the sport of that age were a collection of surprises and tragedies.

John Dermody Joins a Women’s Six-day Race

In December 1879, John Dermody, age 45, was a homeless lemon peddler in Brooklyn, New York. The six-day race ultrarunning/pedestrian fever was raging in America. He believed that his business had hardened his leg muscles with great strength and that he would make an excellent professional pedestrian, and he longed to compete in one of the dozens of races that were being held in the New York City area that year.

Dermody could not find anyone to back him financially and help him pay an entrance fee to a race. A Women’s International Six-Day Tournament was scheduled for December 15-20, 1879, in Madison Square Garden with 26 entrants. As it approached, Dermody became so interested in it that he had been unable to think or talk of anything else.

On the Sunday afternoon before the start, Dermody entered the Darwin & Kindelon saloon at 507 Third Avenue, drinking perhaps too much and jabbering about the sport of walking, wishing that he could see the start of the women’s tournament. Darwin, a known practical joker, asked Dermody how he would like to enter this contest. “Dermody seemed perfectly delighted. His acceptance of the proposition was hailed by some practical jokers as a good chance for amusement, and they at once began to improvise a female wardrobe which would conceal his sex. His flowing reddish beard was shaved off in a neighboring barber shop, and he was dressed in a calico skirt and spotted jacket.”

They added a pair of long stockings, a handkerchief around his head, a blue veil around his neck, and three yards of white gauze to make a sash to hide his face. They made a bib number with “32” to be suspended from his neck. Ready to go, his new backers took him to Madison Square Garden where the race was about to start.

Out on the Track

“The party hid his raiment under an overcoat as they entered and unshrouding him in a sequestered part of the place. That done, they slipped him under the railing out on the track and away he sped, with his arms going like windmills and his raiment flying out behind him like a comet. A batch of the authentic contestants had just passed, and the counterfeit put on a spurt to overhaul them.”

A roar of laughter arose as the audience began to discover what was going on. Around the track he went in a happy-go-lucky style, trying to catch up to the leader. Just as he was finishing the first lap, Sergeant Keating of the 29^th precinct, observant that the bib number 32 didn’t make sense because there were only 26 starters, stepped on the track to arrest Dermody.

Arrest

“It was no easy matter catching up with the phenomenal contestant, but the Sergeant at length brought Dermody’s pace down to a walk and made a circuit of the track in his captor’s custody.” He locked him up for the night at the precinct.

The next day he was arraigned at the Jefferson Market Police Court with the charge of being intoxicated. He was still wearing his costume from the previous evening. “When Sergeant Keating told his story, the stranger’s real character was afforded by a person in the court, who, it appears, was responsible for the masquerade in pursuance of a practical joke.”

Justice Bixby, probably laughing, decided that Dermody had been sufficiently punished and set him free. He went off “at an orthodox pedestrian pace,” probably still happy that he had been able to participate in a pedestrian race.

George Cartwright – Scoundrel

Too often, nineteen century ultrarunners put the sport ahead of their families and some could be referred to as scoundrels or cads. George Cartwright (1848-1925+) was a laborer of Caxton, near Walsall, England and became one of the most famous and accomplished British long-distance runners of the time. He entered the sport in the early 1880s competing successfully at the shorter distance ultras, such as the six-hour race. He was a true runner, with great speed and started to be referred to as “the champion of England.”

In February 1880, at the age of 32, Cartwright ran in his first multi-day race, a seven-day contest in Nottingham, England, six hours per day and won with 270 miles. Seven months later, in September 1880, he competed in a major six-day, 12-hours per day race in London, at the massive Agricultural Hall. There were 29 starters, and he went out fast with the more experienced front-runners, reaching 76 miles in the first 12 hours. But after day two, he quit the race after reaching 138 miles with a foot injury. He healed up and continued to compete in six-day, six hours per day races for the next couple of years.

Arrested for Deserting his Family

But then Cartwright got into legal trouble. On April 24, 1882, he started in a six-day race for the Astley Championship Belt held at Drill Hall in Sheffield, England with 25 starters. As usual, he went out very fast, cheered by 2,000 spectators. He finished the first 12-hour day in the lead with 76 miles.

On the third day, he fell well behind the leaders, and he decided to quit the race. As he started his journey to his room at midnight, an officer arrested him. The warrant charged him for deserting his wife and five children who became wards of the Lichfield Guardians. News reports of the race helped authorities locate him. “He was taken to a police cell instead of to the comfortable training quarters to which he had been no doubt looking forward after his pedestrian exertions.”

Instead of showing concern and going to help his family, when he was brought before the court, he instead wanted to pay the costs incurred by the Guardians, so that he could stay in Sheffield. The court stated that they had no authority to accept his payoff money, and assigned an officer to take him to Lichfield, Staffordshire, England. 70 miles away, to be dealt with. Evidently, he settled the complaint and just two weeks later was again racing in Dundee, Scotland, far from his family, in a 26-hour race which he quit after 71 miles due to a sore ankle.

Cartwright Attacked During Race

In October 1882, while competing for the Astley Champion Long Distance Belt at Bingley, Hall in Birmingham, England, a strange incident occurred. He was leading the 12-hours per day six-day race, which had large wagers bet on the results. “Cartwright was attacked upon the course by one of the spectators who dealt him a violent blow across the head, with a heavy bludgeon, causing the blood to flow copiously for several minutes.

It was thought that the injury would necessitate the removal of the competitor from the course, but encouraged by his friends, Cartwright resumed his journey soon after, wiping the blood from his face as he went along. The police arrested one man, but it is considered doubtful whether he was the actual assailant.”

Over the next few years, Cartwright established himself as one of the best six-day pedestrians in the world, achieving a personal best of 570 miles at Sharonen, England. During that race he reached an astonishing 152 miles on the first day. If true, it was a world record for 24-hours. On February 23, 1887, he broke the 50-mile world record at Westminster Aquarium in London with an amazing time of 5:55:04. That mark would stand for decades.

To America

With all his success in Great Britain, it was time for Cartwright to take his talents to America. He sailed for America on January 4, 1888, on the steamship Ohio to compete in the Six Day’s International Go-as-you-please Race at Madison Square Garden on February 6-11, 1888. After a two-week ocean voyage, he arrived in New York City. He was brash in his predictions. “Records don’t frighten me. Anybody who beats me in this race will have to beat 625 miles.” The current world record for six days was 610 miles, held by Patrick Fitzgerald of Long Island City, New York.

The big race started with 47 runners. Unfortunately, Cartwright had caught a cold while training on Coney Island, and during the race was seized with “inflammation of the lungs.” He quit after reaching only 105 miles. Later that night outside his hut, several of the trainers got in a wild fight, smashing sticks and chairs over each other’s heads. Yes, these six-day race side-shows were always unpredictable. James Albert of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, went on to break the world record with 621 miles.

After competing in a couple more races, he returned to England to take care of some business but then quickly returned to America for an extended stay on the steamship Servia. “On the journey, he took practice runs three times a day on the deck of the steamer. An eight-lap to a mile track was measured off and some days he covered as much as 45 miles. His work was watched with interest by other passengers.” He was anxious to establish himself firmly as the champion of England, hoping to beat the new sensation, young George Littlewood. Cartwright went into training on Staten Island for another six-day race at Madison Square Garden.

The race began on May 7, 1888, with 42 starters, including most of the world’s best six-day ultrarunners. The start was viewed by 5,000 people, including 100 police officers who kept the peace. Cartwright for some reason despised his fellow countryman George Littlewood and wanted to see him defeated. Well, Cartwright’s race was another bust. Once Littlewood seemed to break down, Cartwright’s motivation went away, and he quit on the third day with 202 miles. “He lacked the grit to stand punishment. He had satisfied himself and everybody else that he was not a six-day pedestrian.” With his speed, everyone thought he was better suited for lower distances of 50 or 100 miles. Littlewood recovered and won with 611 miles, just ten miles short of the world record.

Cartwright in Trouble Again

Cartwright continued to compete in American races throughout 1888 and did win at times. But his secret scoundrel ways surfaced. In September 1888, at Saratoga Springs, New York, he won a six-day, four hours per day race with a world best of 185 miles. He then made Saratoga his training headquarters. It was soon revealed why he enjoyed being in this remote resort town in Upstate New York, home of horse racing, gambling, and luxury hotels.

In late 1888, Cartwright, age 40, proposed marriage to Mary Hawkins, age 26, of Staffords Bridge, New York. The marriage was going to take place in Saratoga. But Cartwright still had a wife and children back in England who he certainly was still neglecting. Word got out a few days before the wedding that he was entering a bigamist marriage. He denied being married and even made arrangements for an apartment to live in with his new young bride.

When the marriage ceremony was to take place on December 6, 1888, Cartwright was a no-show. He left his bride at the altar and was going to flee back to England. This infuriated her brother who vowed to wreak vengeance if he found him anywhere in America. A reporter searched Saratoga unsuccessfully trying to find him. Even his sporting friends did not know where he was.

Billy O’Brien, the manager of the recently concluded Fox Diamond Belt six-day race at Madison Square Garden said, “He acted very shabbily towards the management of the race. I paid his entrance fee, his training expenses, other bills during the race, and also advance him some money in cash. He promised to settle everything but has not kept his promise.” Cartwright finished sixth in this race with 546 miles. This was the race where his nemesis, George Littlewood broke the six-day world record with 623 miles, a record that would stand for nearly a century.

The day after the jilted wedding, it was reported that he was at Putnum House in New York City, but left early in the morning with his baggage, and went to board steamer Umbria for England. No one saw him off, so it appeared to be a secret rushed departure. Someone found him before he left, and he denied ever proposing marriage to Miss Hawkins.

Once the heat was off, Cartwright returned to America about a month later, apparently with his wife, with plans to stay. He claimed that he was looking for the man who originated what he said was the false story about his attempted marriage. But he quickly resumed racing in California, far away from Saratoga, New York. In June 1889, it was reported that he was suffering from malaria, staying with his wife in New York City.

As six-day races became fewer in the mid-1890s, Cartwright took up long-distance bicycle racing in 1894 and competed in his first six-day riding race in Chicago’s Tattersall’s in February 1897. At age 48, he was over-the-top confident with his experience running six-day races and his ability to stay out on the track without sleep. “I do not like to boast, but I am going to beat the record.” For some reason he falsely stated that he was 42 years old. He only lasted one day and about 300 miles. The winner rode 1,788 miles in six days. In 1898 he claimed that he had been testing bikes for a manufacturer in Syracuse, New York, and covered 25,000 miles which is highly unlikely. In 1899 he returned to six-day running races competing during the waning years through 1908.

1925 Census Record

On June 29, 1901, at the age of 52, Cartwright became a U.S. citizen at Syracuse, New York and lived out his years there. He died sometime after 1925.

Weary Pedestrian Shot his Wife

Way back in November 1850, Robert Harriett “Mickey Free” (1813-) of Liverpool, England finished a walk of 1,100 miles in 1,100 consecutive hours, one mile each hour, which is a variation of the standard 1,000×1,000 Barclay Match that was rage for years. He was a noted British runner of that era, who had success winning races of distances of a mile or more. His every-hour walk lasted for 44 days and was accomplished outdoors at Strawberry Gardens in Everson, England despite some severe weather along the way.

On November 20, 1850, a week after completing his walking task, he and his wife, Mary, a seamstress, went into the pub Jamaica Vaults. He ordered a beer for himself and some whiskey for his wife. “In his hand, he held a pistol, with which he said he would blow someone’s brains out before he slept that night. The boy who served the liquor asked him for payment, upon which Harriett said he would shoot the boy if he said another word.”

He then placed the pistol on the counter, left the pub, went to a store and purchased ignition caps for his gun. He told the store clerk that he was going out to shoot. Returning to the pub, he called for another beer. His wife came back in and asked him to go home with her. “He replied, ‘Go from my presence, or I’ll shoot you.’ He then took aim with the pistol at his wife, upon which she rushed forward, but he pulled the trigger, and shot her through the right hand. After making an inquiry as to whether he had killed his wife, he gave up the pistol, and was taken into custody.”

His poor wife was rushed to the hospital, and it was necessary to amputate two of her fingers. She was in serious condition. When police interrogated Harriett, he told them about his weary 1,100 miles that he had recently walked. He had bought the pistol from the landlord of Strawberry Gardens that was used to shoot off during the night to wake him up each hour. “Since completing his pedestrian feat, whenever he got any drink, he did not know what he was doing, and as to his wife and children, he loved them most dearly. He then wept bitterly and was committed for trial.” His wife remained in the hospital for many days.

At the trial, he defended himself and couldn’t understand how it happened, that he could not remember that night. The jury returned a verdict of guilt, but strongly recommended mercy for him. The judge said he wasn’t surprised that the great exertion of his walk, and the lack of rest caused Harriett to experience “considerable nervous excitement and irritability.” Combined with the vice of intoxication, it produced a most brutalizing effect on him. But that didn’t excuse him for his actions. He was sentenced to prison with hard labor for nine months.

Race with a Wooden Leg

During that same month in 1850, another pedestrian event grabbed the attention of London newspaper readers. Two men engaged in a 13-mile walking match from Plymouth to Ivybridge, England. One man was a tailor who had a wooden leg and the other was known as “Giant Grumbo.” The race started at midnight. “They left at that hour and the tailor kept well up ‘till within two miles of Ivybridge, when his stump broke in two and his competitor came off victorious.

Pedestrian’s Wife Burned to Death

Tragedies that came into the lives of these famous pedestrians were often noted in the newspapers.

Thomas Howarth (1860-1932) was from Lancashire, England. He started running at the age of 12 when he ran a mile in less than six minutes. A few years later he emigrated to America to Atlantic City, New Jersey, and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He was a runner, not a walker. He set an American record for 25 miles, with 2:41 and clocked 50 miles in 6:21. He started participating in six-day races in 1887 and quickly progressed to be one of the top pedestrians in America and was thought to be the youngest runner to reach over 500 miles. During the later 1800s, he competed in at least 23 six-day races and regularly won them. In 1891 he retired and raised some of the finest game cocks in the country and was involved in cock fighting.

1900 census

Howarth had married Sarah in 1889 and they had a daughter Gertrude. But in 1903, the Howarths became separated. On September 7, 1903, tragedy struck. “About 4:00 in the afternoon, Sarah retired to her room. Fifteen minutes later Policemen Wright and Lint, who were watching a ball game on a lot close by, saw smoke issuing from the second story windows of the Elser Street dwelling. Hurrying to investigate, they learned that the smoke was coming from the room occupied by Mrs. Howarth. The door of the apartment was quickly forced and the woman was found lying on the bed dead.”

“She had been burned to death. The stump of a cigarette was found beside the bed. The police believe that the woman fell asleep with the lighted cigarette in her hand and that the sparks set fire to the bed clothing.”

Howarth went on to marry again to Mary and worked as a groundskeeper at an athletic field. He later was employed at the Electric Storage Battery Company. He died on March 1, 1932, at the age of 71 in Philadelphia, from Bronchial Pneumonia contributed by alcoholism.

A Mother’s Tragedy

At a six-day race in Baltimore, at Kernan’s Summer Garden, in August 1879, a Mrs. Power left a sick child at home to try hard to obtain a share of the winnings to provide for her family. “Although the child was failing daily, she was deceived in regard to its condition in order not to interfere with her chance of winning. On the fifth day, it died, when the heartless friends dared no longer conceal the truth, and the wretched mother was overwhelmed by the intelligence and immediately went to mourn over the remains of her darling.” The mother had reached 238 miles and likely would have finished in second place. The race management did have a heart and generously gave her $250.

Mother Tries to get Daughter to Stop

Finishing this episode on a lighter note, a young woman, Hattie Williams, age 16, was competing in a six-day, four hours per day race in 1893 in Rochester, New York. On the second day, her mother showed up and “raised a row” demanding that her daughter be stopped. The girl wanted to continue, and the race manager was fine to allow her to go on. The next night the mother, with a friend, succeeded in pulling her away from the race and took her to the police station to have them talk some sense into her. But Williams was very rude to the police and declared that she would not go home if she was not allowed to continue in the walking match.

The Brooklyn Citizen wrote, “It is difficult to see what great magnet of attraction a woman can see in such a line of amusement, but there remains still a possibility that ere the six days are over, the obstreperous miss may be only too glad to seek the shelter of her home and there rest her weary body and aching joints, probably with a full sense of her own folly impressed on her weakened intellect.”

Ultrarunning Stranger Things Series:

Sources:

Liverpool Mercury (England), Nov 1, 8, 1850
The Guardian (London, England), Nov 9, 1850
Liverpool Mercury (England), Nov 22, 1850
The Morning Chronicle (London, England), Dec 16, 1850
The North Alabamian (Tuscumbia, Alabama), Sep 5, 1879.
The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (New York), Dec 15, 1879
The New York Times (New York), Dec 15, 1879
New York Daily Herald (New York), Dec 16, 1879
Sheffield Independent (England), Apr 25, 1882
Manchester Evening News (England), Apr 27, 1882
Sheffield Independent (England), Apr 28, 1882
Dundee Advertiser (Scotland), May 15, 1882
Illustrated Police News (London, England), Oct 7, 1882
The Leavenworth Standard (Kansas), May 1, 1884
York Herald (England), Jan 7, 1888
The Boston Globe (Massachusetts), Mar 11, Dec 8, 1888
The Evening Bulletin (Maysville, Kentucky), Apr 16, 1888
The New York Times (New York), Apr 17, 1888
Chicago Tribune, (Illinois) May 7, 1888
The Post-Star, (Glens Falls, New York), Sep 25, 1888
Fall River Daily Evening News (Massachusetts), Dec 7, 1888
The Evening World (New York, New York), Dec 7, 1888, Jun 29, 1889
The Times Leader (Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania), Dec 10, 1888
The Record-Union (Sacramento, California), Dec 7, 1888, Mar 29, 1889
Toronto Daily Mail (Ontario, Canada), Jan 18, 1889
The Brooklyn Citizen (New York), May 11, 1893
Louis Globe-Democrat (Missouri), Feb 9, 1897
The Philadelphia Inquirer (Pennsylvania), Sep 8, 1903

125: Ultrarunning Stranger Things – Part 13: The Strange and Tragic

By Davy Crockett