London, which has witnessed many strange doings in its day, was lately the scene of the most wonderful feats of pedestrianism ever accomplished within a given period.
Every hour, day and night, for six weary weeks a man plodded on his way round a measured track, until the grand total of fifteen hundred miles in one thousand hours had been made up, finishing his self-imposed task with his physical and mental faculties apparently unimpaired.
The task of walking fifteen hundred miles in a thousand hours had never before been attempted, and henceforth the new achievement will throw into the cold shade of obscurity even the marvellous act of walking a thousand miles in as many hours, which was once accomplished in 1809 by Captain Robert Barclay of Ury, a Scotchman, who proposed to perform the then incredible task of walking a thousand miles in a thousand consecutive hours. The proposition was received with every sign of incredulity, though, when the affair was finally arranged to take place, many thousands of pounds were staked on the event. Newmarket Heath was selected as the scene of the exploit, and the famous walk began on the 1st of June 1809, at midnight. It is unnecessary to repeat the details of this feat; it will suffice to mention that the enterprising captain completed his task on the 12th July, at four o'clock in the afternoon.
Since then, an attempt has, we believe, been made to walk the same distance backwards; and within the past twelve months, Weston, the American pedestrian, has performed some remarkable exploits of the kind; being however at last beaten by an Irishman named Kelly.
The hero of the lately completed task (fifteen hundred miles in a thousand hours) is a little Welshman of not more than five feet three and a half inches in height, and about forty-two years of age; while in personal appearance and general physique he presents anything but what is usually supposed to be the characteristic of a good pedestrian. His name is William Gale, and he is a bookbinder by trade, living at Clerkenwell.
At the commencement of his task on Sunday the 26th of August, he weighed no more than eight stone four pounds (8 st. 4 lbs.); and from that day until Saturday the 6th October, during a portion of every hour day and night, he pursued his monotonous way around the inclosure at Lillie Bridge grounds, Brompton. When the attempt was first announced, even those most acquainted with pedestrian feats where great endurance was required, expressed themselves dubious as to the result; and in order to have a reliable record of his proceedings, Gale requested the different sporting papers to appoint competent men as judges—a request which was at once generously complied with.
Thus we have an official report of his great exploit, and the public are enabled to judge for themselves on the nature of the feat performed. Gale's average pace appears to have been about four miles an hour; but when he had reached his thousandth mile he assumed a brave spurt, and footed it in ten minutes, or at the rate of six miles an hour. During the last few days of his walking he started rather stiffly at first, owing to the pain caused by the swelling of some varicose veins in his left leg; but undaunted by so great and manifest a disadvantage, and other disadvantages which we shall presently refer to, the gallant little Welshman 'plodded his weary way' with a determined pluck that won the admiration and applause of every one present.
On Friday the 5th October, the day before the finish of the tramp, Dr Gant of the Royal Free Hospital was called in to see this extraordinary walker, and after examining his legs, he pronounced Gale to be in excellent condition so far as his physical powers were concerned; there being no fever, the pulse only seventy, no murmur at the heart; and the varicose veins which had been the cause of so much pain to him, were rather better than worse, having considerably decreased in size. Perhaps the most remarkable part of the performance is, that it has been accomplished on a system of training which entirely sets at variance all athletic rules, for Gale partook of no fixed refreshment, neither did he have his meals at stated hours. His chief food was plain mutton-chops; and as an instance of how he varied his dishes, his afternoon meal on Friday the 5th October, which might have been either breakfast, dinner, or supper (so irregular had he been in this respect), consisted of a lobster and bread and butter, followed by a fried sole, and one or two cups of ordinarily strong tea. During the walk he also drank a good deal of beer—not strong beer, but the ale which is usually sold at fourpence per quart, which he seemed to prefer to any other kind, probably on account of its freedom from that tendency to increase rather than assuage thirst, so remarkably apparent in the stronger beers.
Many strange incidents occurred in the course of the six weeks, which were calculated to while away the time, and occasionally to bring a smile to the pedestrian's lips. For instance, a certain illustrated sheet, notorious for its very sensational cartoons, published a picture of Gale on the track followed by Old Time with the conventional scythe on his shoulder; and many people it would seem actually paid their money with the idea that they were going to see the two figures as thus represented. One man, who had evidently gone to the grounds for this purpose, had watched Gale go round the track several times, when he could no longer control his disappointment. He shouted aloud, angrily demanding his money back, because, as he said with the greatest naïveté possible, 'the beggar with the scythe hadn't turned up!'
As the last week of the great walking match wore on, signs of weariness in the indomitable pedestrian became painfully apparent, and many persons began to fear that the task he had set himself would after all remain unaccomplished. On several of the rounds he fell asleep whilst walking, and dropped to the ground; but this contact with mother earth seemed to revive him instantly, and he plodded on as pluckily as before.