Commonwealth Network
Pythagoras Pod, in full costume, 1,000 miles into his journey |
While enjoying a quaff at a New York City pub, one hundred years ago, in 1896, a young journalist reporting for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle entered into a wager with a publisher, Mr. Benjamin Lillard, on the outcome of the upcoming presidential election. The race was a contest between Democratic nominee William Jennings Bryan and the Republican candidate William McKinley.
The journalist was thirty-year old Robertson Pitcher Woodward, who, while knowing he would probably lose, took the side of William Jennings Bryan -- the populist candidate from Nebraska, noted in the day for his famous "Cross of Gold" speech. You may recollect from your American History studies that McKinley emerged victorious with an electoral vote of 271 to 176.
For settlement of the wager, Woodward was required to cross the American continent on the back of a burro, leaving New York City without a dollar in his pocket and honestly earning his way to San Francisco.
Furthermore, Woodward must leave within a month of the election and arrive in San Francisco before its anniversary. To add some comic insult to injury, he must embark on his journey by parading through the thoroughfares of Manhatten, with both he and burro donning spectacles, and himself a top-hat and frock-coat.
Woodward left November 27, 1896, 4 days before winter, and traversed the four-thousand and ninety-six miles in 340 days and 2 hours - arriving in San Francisco with only 22 hours to spare him from breaching his agreed settlement.
During his trip, Woodward kept a diary and regularly submitted to his newspaper humorous stories from his travels. The column, titled "The Picturesque Pilgrimage of Pythagoras Pod", was picked up by more and more papers as he and his reputation made their way cross-country. The text and illustrations comprising these articles will be republished here beginning in Noivember, 1996 - in centennial synchronicity with their original publishing. A summary account of his journey was later published in the The Strand Magazine, an illustrated monthly famous for first publishing Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes adventures.
Woodward later compiled these articles and published a condensed account in the book "On a Donkey's Hurricane Deck". No copies are available at present; however, if interest warrants, the book may be republished. Quoting from the final paragraph in the book's prologue, the reader can sense a hint of the wry humor that flourishes within:
If ever you are tempted to ride a donkey overland, refrain. Rather creep across backwards on your hands and knees, or circumnavigate the globe in a washtub. If you still persist, why, ride a donkey twenty miles in a pouring rain, then follow your own judgment. If you wish my donkey's advice, I will introduce him. His head is longer than his ears, which was not the case when he set out with me.
