Third Astley Belt Six-day Race in 1879

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By Davy Crockett

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As this concluding part of the Third Asley Belt Race opens, four elite ultrarunners were competing to be the Champion of the World in New York City in 1879, seeking to become the holder of the Astley Belt. The current world champion, Daniel O’Leary had apparently dropped out because of health reasons after 215 miles on day three. Great Britain’s best hope, Charles Rowell was in lead with 250 miles. Two others were still in the race, John Ennis of Chicago, and Charles Harriman of Massachusetts. Who would win? Don’t miss part one, which included a violent riot at the start of the race. The shocking details are covered in Part one. (Read/Listen/Watch first).

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On day three, the race continued in Gilmore’s Garden which would be renamed in a couple months to Madison Square Garden. The biggest story about this historic race wasn’t about the competition taking place on the track, it was about what occurred among the crowds of tens of thousands of spectators and the impact of the race on the entire city. Ultrarunning would emerge as the greatest spectator sport of its era in America.

The New York Sun prophesied truly, “When the historian, a hundred years hence, looks over the files of this week’s newspapers, he will not believe all that he finds on the subject is sober history. He will take it for a poor joke or a big humbug. And what is there to show for the week’s excitement? Several heads clubbed, thousands of poor wretches encouraged in their betting and gambling proclivities, and four men worn out. This is a great country!”

Tragic Accident

At about 8:15 p.m., on day three, a tragic accident occurred among the spectators causing “such a scene of wild and indescribable confusion and alarm that has rarely been witnessed inside a public building.” Certainly, it was the greatest accident among spectators in ultrarunning history.

A temporary upper gallery had been constructed that was divided into boxes. It was an ideal location to view the entire track and was very overcrowded with ten times the number of people intended. “A throng of ladies and gentlemen crowded every available inch of the place, some seated and many perched upon chairs and tables.”

Suddenly, a portion of the gallery collapsed down upon the roof of a pavilion below. “The first intimation of the danger was the gradual settling of the flooring, then a loud, creaking noise, and away went a section of fifteen yards of the gallery, carrying with it over one hundred people.” Many, including ladies, were hurled 18 feet below. Thankfully, the structure did not collapse all at once, giving many below some time to escape, including those tending glass blower and flower bouquet stands. A few others below were less fortunate.

“The frail structure broke into small pieces in the descent, and the unfortunate people who were precipitated with it were jammed between the debris, several of them being seriously injured.” The most serious injuries involved a broken leg, broken hand, broken collar bone, a spine injury, and a concussion. “A wall of struggling, groaning, maimed and terrified persons was piled up. A gashed face peeped through the broken timbers, an outstretched arm there. Panic ensued as people started stepping on injured people trying to get away.” A cloud of dust spread, seen by all in the building.

It didn’t stop there. Panic spread throughout the building as some spectators thought that the entire building was collapsing. The runners stopped and left the track. A surge of people pressed forward to exit the building near the collapsed area. The police started rescue efforts among the rubble. “Women and children went rushing about almost delirious with terror looking for their absent friends and relatives. To add to the general alarm, a number of stones were thrown by some ruffians outside, and as they crashed through the windowpanes, the sounds were such as firemen make when entering a burning building.”

It was a miracle that hundreds of people were not crushed in the panic. A policeman rushed to the band and yelled for them to play. “At the very moment when there was the greatest danger of a fatal crush, the band struck up a lively air, the police cleared the track and Ennis marched through the passage they cleared for him. The fear of the multitude was still great but lessening by degrees until a cheer and clapping of hands brought reassurance.” About 1,000 people left the building. “How many were injured altogether was impossible to state, for men with crushed hats in their hands and coats covered with dust, bleeding from slight cuts on their heads and hands, left the place in haste.”

Outside the building, people on the streets were surprised to see men coming out windows, jumping to the ground, risking injury. Rumors spread quickly. Someone yelled, “It’s on fire!” Another, “The roof is falling in!” This caused panic outside too. Ambulances with clanging bells arrived, attracting many city people with a morbid curiosity. The police brought things into order, at times brandishing clubs.

At the accident site, a tangled mass of woodwork remained with sprinkled drops of blood, broken bottles, strips of cloth, and bouquets of flowers that had been prepared for the runners. The rubble was cleared out within an hour. “The excitement of the match soon swept away all memory of the accident.”

By late evening, with a crowd of 8,000 people, there seemed to be no worry that other heavily laden balconies might fall. “The continual great mass of humanity, the shouts, clapping, and the blaring of the band kept the structure pulsating like an enormous heart. The scene was not only wonderful, sublime and magnetic, it was terrible. One could not help pondering on the latent power in this vast throng and the possible passions that could be aroused by a sudden impulse. The applause was incessant.”

The effect that the runners had on the crowd was amazing to behold. “Whenever one of the pedestrians began a spurt, hundreds of men would precipitate themselves in the direction in which he was going and would rush around the inner edge of the ring like a cyclone. Everything and everybody that stood in their way was swept before them as the sand of the desert. The thunder of their feet upon the floor was like the tread of a myriad of buffaloes on the hard baked surface of the prairie when they are fleeing before a cougar.”

At the end of this eventful day, the score was: Rowell 283 miles, Harriman 270, Ennis 250, and O’Leary retired with 215.7 miles. Dr. Robert Taylor, who had been treating the runners gave his opinion that he thought Ennis would win because he was still in the best physical condition. Rowell had been running on his heels instead of a mid-foot strike. The doctor said, “I think the change of climate has affected him. His face is drawn, and his lips are becoming purple.” When Rowell retired for the day, his trainers would bathe his feet in salt water and then he would be rubbed down with whiskey. Ennis and Harriman would sometimes be sponged with milk.

Day Four

Rowell would sleep with cotton in his ears to block out any noise. After about four hours of sleep, the three remaining runners went back to work on the fourth day. Even with O’Leary out of the race, spectators again filled the building during the morning with large numbers in the streets hoping to get in. The price of admission was raised to one dollar ($28 value today) and kept some away. It weeded out those who weren’t really interested in the race that just came for food, drink, and making merry. In general, it was much easier to get around the building without it being overcrowded. The building management finally evicted the homeless “tramps” from the building who had been there for four days.

Some men were angry about losing money on O’Leary’s failure and believed that he was bribed to quit. Ennis became the crowd favorite and received the loudest cheers. Peddlers circulated the hall selling Ennis badges for fans to wear on their chests. Others sold trading cards of each runner.

For the first three days the track had been heavy, too soft, with too much sawdust. It was rumored that it was fixed up that way to suit O’Leary. By day four it had become better packed down.

The crowd loved watching one incident. A little girl wanted to take a bouquet of flowers to Harriman but was very afraid to do so. A man kindly led her down on the track and she stood there waiting petrified and trembling “until the tall pedestrian strode up to her and with a smile took the large bouquet of red and white roses which the little girl held and carried it around the track.” The audience erupted into applause.

Rowell concluded that Harriman couldn’t win the race and changed to play mind games on Ennis and sprinted past him, causing Ennis to give chase. “Round the track they spun, Rowell leading at first, but soon Ennis passed the Englishman.” They continued the sprint for a mile as the spectators roared with approval as Ennis won the short event. Rowell had been bothered by blisters below each ankle due to sawdust getting into his shoes.

Outside on the streets presented chaos at times. Each day, workers would eat their lunches in front of bulletin boards waiting for the latest news. Everyone seemed to be keeping score, men of all races and nationalities. Even street vendors were affected by the mania. “As soon as the six o’clock score was made known, the crowd that had swelled to immense proportions separated and boarded the street cars for home.”

A fight between two spectators occurred. John Clute had been the most dedicated fan who had been there every day and night, never leaving. He ate at the in-house restaurant and slept for a while each night in the back chairs. On Wednesday night, someone stole his pocket watch while he was sleeping. On this day he recognized a man, Charles H. Thompson, who had been sitting close to him on the night of the theft. “He immediately accused him of having taken the watch. Hard words followed, resulting in blows. Clute proved too much for the man, and finally the stranger admitted that he had taken the watch, but it was then beyond recovery. Clute had him arrested at the station house.” The watch was eventually returned to Clute.

At 6 p.m. Ennis passed Harriman into second place. Harriman complained that fans of Ennis would purposefully puffed smoke into his face as he passed from their dirty black pipes.

Rowell now dogged behind Ennis who was 25 miles behind. Ennis would press occasional sprinting duels. Two pickpockets were noticed by the police. “The two men dashed across the track, right in front of Rowell, who was somewhat frightened, thinking they were about to assault him. The men were caught just as they were about to rush up the stairs.” At the same time some commotion was caused by three boys who climbed up the water pipes outside the building to sneak in the building through a high window, causing a lot of laughter. The police caught them and “their exit was more painful than their entrance.” At the end of the day the score was: Rowell 360 miles, Ennis 335, and Harriman 325.

Day Five

During the wee hours of the morning on day five, the action was very boring with the runners away from the track most of the time. “In the long rows of red-leather cover seats, lining two sides of the building, hundreds of persons slept peacefully, and in the dark recesses of the artificial rockwork at the lower end of the Garden were many more sleepers, most of whom were boys huddled together in ragged heaps who had smuggled themselves in through the window.”

What did the runner’s huts look like? A description was given of Rowell’s. It had a window, a door with a white curtain, and a skylight. “A gas pipe hastily constructed along the front is strung with fragrant flowers, a wreath and basket adorn the roof with a building roof pillar close by, also covered with flowers. Three horseshoes of flowers are strung along the door. The tea things inside stand ever ready and on duty. Blouses and undershirts, cardigans and all the paraphernalia of the pedestrian are scattered here and there.”

All day, Harriman struggled. “Poor Harriman tottered around the track like a dead man all day. It seemed impossible for him to go on, but four electric shocks, given at intervals, and numerous doses of milk-punch, champagne, brandy, and other stimulants poured into him in rapid succession, kept him going until far into the night.” He was described as looking like a horse with a nail in its foot.

The frequent gifts of bouquets of flowers perked Harriman up. “Someone stepped forward with a magnificent stand of flowers and Harriman’s face lit up as he received the beautiful token. His trainer stepped promptly forward to his relief and bore the trophy gracefully round and round the track side by side with the tall walker.”

Women spectators were numerous on the 27th Street side of the building. “They wore all kinds of headgear and every imaginable pattern of outside dress. Hats, fur caps, bonnets with plumes, derby tiles, fur-lined cloaks, woolen jackets, blanket shawls, camel’s hair shawls, old women, young girls, fashionably attired ladies, women with opera glasses, women who drank champagne, women who gulped beer, all sorts of women sat and laughed and chatted and now and then waved encouragement. Fair ladies from the boxes beam on their favorite racer with their best and brightest smiles.”

Ennis worked hard to keep the belt in America. But if not, was focused on reaching 450 miles in order to earn a share of the massive gate money. He and Rowell had sprint races now and then. “Away they went for 10 laps, the crowd rushing madly around after them and cheering like lunatics.” Adoring spectators would often deliver bouquets of flowers to their favorite runner, and he would parade them around the track.

Rumors of plotted threats against Rowell to prevent him from winning reached the police and they ordered an extra force to the building.

In the evening when Ennis passed Rowell to unlap himself once, it bugged Rowell and another race took place as Ennis tried to get away from him. “The spectators became a mob of howling lunatics. Wave after wave of applause rolled around and around the vast hall, making the timbers shake. For three laps the race continued, and then Rowell, with a laugh, gave up amid wild cheers and derisive yells.”

Later, a huge cheer went up, so loud that you couldn’t hear yourself speak. “What is it they’re cheering? All eyes are facing east and inspecting the tally board. ‘Ennis 400.’ Before the thunders of applause die away, a new thing happened. Walking side-by-side, suddenly Ennis puts his arm around little Rowell’s neck and for nearly half a lap the two went on together down the path they’ll never forget so long as they live. Next, the two reached Ennis’ cottage and Rowell shook his head heartily, going on to his own quarters.”

At the end of day five, the score was Rowell 430, Ennis 408, and Harriman 390.

Day Six

Ennis put on an impressive last day performance, but it was very apparent that Rowell would win. The building was surprisingly full at 2:24 a.m. when Ennis came out. This caused a commotion at the 400-foot bar. “At least 2,000 men dropped their glasses, spilled their beer, forgot to pay and rushed for the narrow places of exit. Tables were overturned, chairs were smashed, waiters were pushed here and tumbled there, and more men were jammed against the entrances than ever before to watch Ennis on the track.” The band played “Yankee Doodle,” as the crowd of 10,000 sleepless people whistled along in unison and kept time with their feet.

“Harriman continued on his weary course around the track. His eyes were sunken, his legs trembled, and the whole appearance of the man showed that he was nearly exhausted. There was no life in him. He simply knew that if he made 450 miles, he would get his share of the gate money.” There was great doubt that he would reach his goal. He needed to run 58 miles in the last 20.5 hours on his tired and sore legs. “Thin as he was when he began his toilsome progress, his frame now seemed frightfully wasted, and as his legs and arms slowly oscillated, one almost expected to hear the bones rattling in their sockets.” At times, the band would strike up “Yankee Doodle” in honor of Harriman, giving him so renewed energy.

Rowell was generally treated with respect by the New York crowd, but during the last early morning when there were few police watching, a “low-browed, hooked nosed individual” started to heap abuse on Rowell. He called him foul names and riled up the sleepy crowd who remained to shake their fists and shout war whoops.” The ringleader would rush up to the rail when Rowell passed, shaking his fist in his face yelling things full of obscenities that included, “You English $%#! If you win this race, I’ll cut your heart out. Boys, go for him, let’s kill this $%#% Briton.”

“Then the mob would yell and screech like famished harpies and rush in a body to an opposite side of the ring so as to be ready for him when he came around the turn.” The man finally rushed on the track and pursued Rowell for a quarter of a lap with nearly 500 unruly men running around the inner rail of the track following their ringleader. “Some gentlemen urged the police officers to do their duty. The scoundrel was seized and dragged off the track.” Then two police were ordered onto the track to walk beside Rowell for protection.

Later, an Irishman ran out on the track and tried to assault Rowell but was caught by police. Ennis, an Irish-American, spoke to the crowd and told them if Rowell gets injured by them, he would leave the track. With great sportsmanship, hand in hand, the two ran the next lap together as Ennis was 23 miles behind.

Food for the crowd was running short. “The lunch counters did a thriving business, selling a compound called clam chowder by the gallon, whose principal components were water and pepper. The clams had all disappeared long before. The waiters could not make sandwiches fast enough to satisfy the hungry crowd of 5,000 who intended to see the conclusion of the match.” It was estimated that 52,000 sandwiches were sold during the event.

One of the greatest problems for the runners was the tobacco smoke in the air. “The walls were packed with men, everyone smoking. Cigars adorned the facial features of a majority, but cigarettes in the teeth of hundreds poisoned the air and odorized the entire Garden.” Conflicting cries around the hall were heard, “Gentlemen, please don’t smoke” and “Cigars, five cents apiece.” The smokers ignored the pleas to stop. “Great clouds of dense blue smoke curled gracefully over the vast congregation and floated away toward the illuminated rafters and far off into the recesses of the galleries, already suffocated with a plethora of humanity.”

Not only were the runners exhausted, but all the handlers, scorers and other race staff were dragging. “The young man who had for six days climbed a ladder to the blackboard and stood on a narrow platform to post the number of miles walked, looked pale and thin. The judges were tired and cross.”

At 4:30 p.m., a platoon of 110 Broadway police marched into the building and walked around the track near Rowell’s cottage. They then spread themselves in a line from there to the scorer’s booth. “This was generally regarded as a precaution against a riot and someone in the crowd proposed three cheers for the Broadway squad. However, there was no response.”

One of the greatest ultrarunning displays of sportsmanship was witnessed. As Harriman was limping along on the track, Rowell caught up to him at the scorer’s table, shook hands with him and then walked by his side, encouraging him along. “Putting his arm within Harriman’s, they trod the track side-by-side. Men rose from their seats, ladies stood on chairs waving their handkerchiefs, and every man in the neighborhood of the two pedestrians was cheering himself hoarse.” Ennis soon joined them, and all three locked arms. Such sportsmanship dashed away any fears of a riot once Rowell won. “Strong men with tears in their eyes said one to the other, ‘I would not have missed this for a thousand dollars.” Another said, ‘Talk about a riot, this is a love feast.'” Police commented that they were not needed there.

The Finish

During the final hours, the attendance was the largest seen during the race, bursting with people, making it very difficult to even move. Only the track was clear and that was lined with a double row of policemen. There was a total of nearly 500 officers in the building, some in plain clothes. “Never before was an assemblage so madly and persistently enthusiastic. The cheers rolled in successive swells around and around the vast amphitheater, wave following wave.”

In another show of sportsmanship, when Rowell was on his 497th mile, he caught up with Harriman, who had paused to adjust his neckerchief. Rowell held back and didn’t pass him. “At once there was a cry of ‘Three cheers for the little Briton’ and a unified cheer from the north side of the house answered back grandly. Rowell smiled, pleased, and the pair continued their journey.”

At 8:45 p.m., when Harriman was on his 450^th mile, all three walked together in honor of the third-place Harriman reaching the critical milestone. Rowell kindly took on pacing duties. “The crowd recognized the generous intentions of the two rival athletes, and the rafters rang with such a hearty, spontaneous, and continued outburst of applause as has seldom awakened the echoes on any occasion.” Harrison walked the homestretch of his last lap carrying a pillow with the American shield and the crowd grew frantic. “Everybody sprang to their feet and shrieked, yelled, and shouted, waving hats and fluttering handkerchiefs.” A man leaped onto the track and gave Harriman a magnificent basket of flowers and the crowd cheered again with delight. The band played “Yankee Doodle” as men shouted, screamed, danced, and shook each other’s hand with excitement that Harriman had reached the needed 450 miles to receive a share of the gate money, about $100,000 in today’s value. He then went into his cottage, waving his flag, thanking the crowd.

Rowell and Ennis continued together for two more laps as Rowell reached his 500^th mile for the win in about 140 hours and then he stopped. He went to his cottage and came out waving an American flag showing his appreciation to the audience. Reporters were stunned witnessing this largest historic crowd in the Garden. “All manner of men conducted themselves like lunatics. Every throat was exerted to its utmost capacity. Not a man was silent, certainly no woman was. Flags waved, handkerchiefs flourished, hats were high in the air.”

Ennis continued plodding along strongly and received the cheers of the adoring audience until he finished his 475^th mile. “Clad in an overcoat and fur cap, Ennis then made another tour of the track, shaking hands with everybody and prolonging the crazy enthusiasm for some moments longer.” He retired to his cottage and the crowd emptied the building to the tune of “Home Sweet Home”. On the streets they discussed the match until nearly midnight. The final score was: Rowell 500 miles, Ennis 475 miles, Harriman 450 miles, and O’Leary 215 miles.

It took a while for the riled-up spectators to return to their homes. Reverend W. C. Steel condemned the late-night behavior that spilled onto the Sabbath. “Madison Avenue was filled with a drunken mob that made the night hideous with their noise and obscenity.” Certainly, the event impacted the number of people who attended churches the next morning producing meager donation baskets. This minister proclaimed that the activity was “barbarous and never ought to have a place among civilized amusements.”

Race Followup

Charles Rowell was the winner of the Astley Belt and the new long-distance champion of the world. Rowell was taken to his hotel room, stripped, rubbed down, and put to bed. He slept on and off for the next eight hours and then got up for breakfast. He was handed a telegram from Edward Payson Weston in England issuing a challenge for the Belt. Many visitors, including young lady admirers, had to be turned away to let Rowell recover.

Rowell knew that his 500 miles was not terribly impressive. He said, “The real truth is that I was not pushed. I can do better than that. The smoke sometimes made me feel miserable. Often I felt like going into my cabin for a little while just to get out of that miserable cloud of cigar smoke.”

Ennis also recovered fast. The next day he said, “I think Rowell is the best man they (the British) have over there, but he is not the best man in the world. Under better circumstances, I think I can beat him.” He also had already issued a new challenge for the belt. When asked about the treatment of the crowd toward Rowell, Ennis explained, “They used insulting language toward me as well, but I did not mind the loafers. They only constitute a small part of the world. I kept an even temper all through, was not over excited, and neither was Rowell.”

After finishing his race, Harriman had to be carried to a carriage and into his hotel. A day after, his eyes were still bloodshot, but he looked well and was clearly being well cared for, especially by a certain woman married to the hotel steward. He thought that Rowell, as a runner, could beat any walker. He complained bitterly about the conditions inside Gilmore’s Garden during the race. “For Harriman, it was like walking through an everlasting spittoon as the people would throw their cigar stumps right on the track in addition to the volume of smoke that constantly arose from the dense crowd.”

Reaction

The Astley Belt was reclaimed by the British and Rowell was the new champion pedestrian of the world.

The New York Times had devoted nearly a full page of news print each day to the race. “Now that the contest is ended, a general feeling of relief pervades the city, and though the feeling of regret at the loss of the belt is universal, people are glad of a breathing spell and a chance to recover from their temporary attack of the walking mania.”

The event was a massive financial success, bringing in $54,314 in gate money and other revenue valued at $1.5 million today. Rowell went home with $20,398 ($586,000 today), “a pretty good haul for a man who had seldom had two sovereigns to rub against each other.” Ennis received $11,038 ($317,000 today). For Harriman’s determined success reaching 450 miles, he took home $3,679 ($105,000 today) and a year when the average year’s salary for a man was about $500.

Reverend John Philip Newman (1826-1899) of lower Manhattan, one of the most influential Protestant ministers in the country, delivered a highly critical sermon that week against pedestrianism entitled “The Brutal Contest.” He proclaimed, “New York has been shamefully disgraced. This commercial emporium is in dishonor in the sight of God and in the eyes of the civilized world.” He railed against the pedestrian “intoxication” that was felt by all who attended watching “animals in human form” pitted against each other on a sawdust track. He proclaimed that it was a sinful waste and that the men inflicted upon themselves “the pains of a whole life in a week.” Reverend N. B. Thompson of Brooklyn added, “There was more rejoicing in England today over Rowell’s victory than there was over the proclamations of the Bible. The pedestrians have broken the laws of health and nature. Walking fever was spreading like an epidemic and no good would come of it.”

Many of the British who hoped that pedestrianism would fade away were stunned at the news of the enormous financial success of the event. “We very much regret the circumstance, for we had hoped that there were to be no more of these brutalizing exhibitions in this country. It is evident that the thing pays infinitely better in America, and we hope that pedestrians will confine their degrading shows to the other side of the Atlantic.” It was estimated that one million dollars (27.7 million in today’s value) changed hands in bets during the event.

British sportsmen were happy to reclaim the belt from America but were lukewarm about their new champion since he didn’t exceed Corkey’s world record of 521 miles. “Rowell is a brave and generous Englishmen, one of the most plucky of little British sportsmen that ever crossed the Atlantic. As a walker Rowell is both bad and ugly, but as a trotter and runner he is wonderful, in fact his power of endurance is really marvelous.”

Harriman Scandal

A few months later it was revealed that Harriman had run off with Katie Stackhouse, the wife of George W. Stackhouse, the steward of St. James Hotel. They had been attracted to each other as Harriman had trained for the race. Mrs. Stackhouse had given him baskets of flowers during the race and cared for him during his recovery in the hotel. In later weeks they were seen together around the city. In July, Katie ran off to join Harriman in Virginia and her husband hired a private detective to track her down. When he couldn’t find her, he filed for divorce and also filed a suit against Harriman for $10,000. Once Katie learned that the scandal went public, she returned home and begged to be forgiven and taken back. Stackhouse refused to accept her back and sold all her belongings. Harriman was arrested and posted a bail of $5,000. Eventually, three months later, a settlement was reached, and Stackhouse withdrew the suit and was likely much richer.

O’Leary – Walking vs. Running

What was O’Leary’s reaction to his failure in the race? He said, “I was unfortunately in poor condition and unable to do myself justice.” But he admitted, even if he was in top condition, Rowell would probably have still beaten him because he was a talented runner. “I believe that runners can go more than 550 miles in six days, and that no walker will ever again win a six-day race from good runners. My present physical condition compels me to retire from pedestrianism for a time, possibly forever, but if I should regain my former health and strength, and again enter the arena, my races would be confined to walking, and I would never compete against runners, because I think the task helpless. If we can outwalk Englishmen, we can also outrun them, and there are in America as good men as in any country under the sun. All that we need is time to learn the game and practice to make use perfect.” O’Leary immediately became a race director and announced that the “Oleary Belt Six-Day Race” would be held later in the year to promote running.

Yes, runners were poised to take over ultrarunning/pedestrianism.

The parts of this Six-Day Race series:

Sources:

Matthew Algeo, Pedestrianism: When Watching People Walk Was America’s Favorite Spectator Sport
Tom Osler and Ed Dodd, Ultra-marathoning: The Next Challenge
P. S. Marshall, King of Peds
New York Daily Herald (New York), 12-17, 1879
The New York Times (New York), Mar 14-16, 1879
New York Tribune (New York), Mar 14-16, 1879
The Graphic (London, England), Mar 22, 1879
Sheffield Independent (Yorkshire, England), Apr 3, 1879
Aberdeen Evening Express (Scotland), Apr 4, 1879
The Cincinnati Enquirer (Ohio), Apr 4, 1879
Boston Post (Massachusetts), Jul 15, 1879
Evening Star (Washington D.C.), Oct 20, 1879

109: Six-day Race Part 15: Third Astley Belt Race – Finish (1879)

By Davy Crockett