1884: The Goats that Bucked a Swimming Race in East Harlem | Italian Harlem

In my last post about old New York, I wrote about a Newfoundland who almost lost his life while taking part in a swimming race from Randall’s Island to the Harlem Beach Bathing Pavilion in July 1884. Apparently, the manager of the Harlem beach, Frederick Kenyon, wasn’t fazed by this close call on the East River.

Three weeks later, he invited people to let their goats compete in a similar swimming race. The prizes included a mammoth cabbage, large turnip, a double-sheet circus poster, and a tomato can.

On August 10, 1884, 11 goat owners led their goats to a float on the East River at 116th Street, where they were to be thrown into the water. The owners struggled quite a bit as the goats butted and kicked and flat-out refused to get into the water.

During all this commotion, a man came rushing out to the float, brandishing a large silver shield. He told the goat owners to desist in the name of Henry Bergh and the law. He then threatened to arrest the first person who tried to throw a goat into the water.

The goat owners just laughed at him. But then four more men arrived on the scene and the goats were taken away from the water.

The man who came to the goats’ rescue was Henry Bergh, founder of the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and the other men were some of the first officers of the ASPCA.

Henry Bergh ASPCA
Henry Bergh’s impassioned accounts of the horrors inflicted on animals convinced the state legislature to pass the charter incorporating the ASPCA on April 10, 1866.

One of the goat owners, a Mr. James Gordon, was not happy that the swimming race was canceled. “By thunder, I’ll sue Henry Bergh for damages,” he told a New York Times reporter.

“I bought my goat last week and paid 50 cents for it – a good price, too. I put it in my garden, and it ate up all my flowers and plants and paint and oyster shells and the nails out of my house, besides all the corn I gave it. Now, when I come here to get the benefit of my outlay, Mr. Henry Bergh steps in and says he shan’t go in the water. What the devil does the goat care? He can’t think or do anything but eat and butt, and would just as soon swim as not.”

After the main attractions were led away, some of the crowd that had gathered stayed to watch a race for “fat men” and a tub race. You can’t make this stuff up.