Larry Donovan (bridge jumper)

Slightly injured on a couple of occasions and frequently incarcerated following his attempts, he struggled to capitalise on his fame, making money only through bets and brief periods working as an emcee or exhibiting himself in novelty shows.

In August 1888, disillusioned and desperately poor, he accepted a spontaneous two-pound wager (equal to £281 today) to jump from London's Hungerford Bridge late at night, but drowned in the attempt.

[9] He was given a "fair" education but when his father,[3] Michael George Degnan,[10] lost the family savings in an ill-fated venture to publish a book entitled Common Sense Facts, he was deprived of the opportunity to go to college.

[6] In 1882 he began working as a typesetter at the Police Gazette,[3][9] an influential weekly men's magazine featuring gossip, racy illustrations, and sensationalist news, and sponsoring record-setting feats of daring.

A month later, Steve Brodie was said to have successfully dropped from the bottom of the bridge and survived with injuries, but doubts about whether he actually made the jump surfaced years later and the matter remains unsettled.

He underwent medical examinations to ensure his health,[16] and was promised $500 (equal to $16,956 today) by his employer, the Police Gazette, who also provided a wagon as transport for the early morning attempt.

Noting that Brodie and Odlum had had difficulty remaining perfectly vertical during the descent, he wore baseball shoes[17] weighted with five pounds of zinc each.

[18] He tightly bandaged his legs,[16] wore trousers padded with "coarse cotton waste",[4] a red flannel outer shirt, and a brown Derby hat.

At just after 5 AM, he took a carriage to the middle of the bridge, about 500 feet from the New York tower,[16] and without encountering any resistance, clambered over the parapet and jumped, surviving impact without injury other than being "sore about the chest".

Although the magistrate, Judge Duffy, noted that "there is no law to punish a man for jumping from a high place", he also said "this bridge-jumping business has got to be stopped...I supposed now somebody will dive off, or be sewed up in a bag and thrown off and come down with a bigger splash".

[16] Donovan was fined $10 for obstructing traffic, which was paid by the Gazette's proprietor, R. K. Fox,[1] and threatened any future bridge jumpers with six months in prison: "If there is not a law, we will make one for the occasion".

[22] In the company of a ferryman, a few members of the press, and his trainer, J. Haley, Donovan made the leap at 7 AM, wearing the same outfit he used for the Brooklyn Bridge jump.

After the leap, he swore that he wouldn't "degrade [himself] by going into a dime museum", apparently envisaging more sophisticated ways of earning an income from his pursuit, such as a benefit dinner he held at Buffalo's Adelphi Theatre on November 17.

He made the leap at 7 AM on February 18, 1887, inviting a "score of reporters and prominent sporting men" to watch him jump, wearing shoes with lead-lined soles.

[33] After a quiet couple of months, Donovan returned to New York in early April,[34] with the intention of diving headfirst from the Brooklyn Bridge,[3] claiming to have secured a wager of $1,000 for the attempt.

[3] Unable to afford $500 bail, he resigned himself to three months at The Tombs prison, where he was joined on April 28 by another young man, Emmanuel Defreitas, who had made a slightly higher jump from the same bridge.

[36] Defreitas's attempt was made without padded garments, and was nearly fatal, as he was knocked off balance by police as he prepared to jump, and hit his head on the way down.

[41] On that occasion, he refused to take money from the crowd of 500 spectators on the basis that it was a "Jubilee jump", referring to the fiftieth anniversary of Queen Victoria's accession a year earlier.

[42] Calling himself "Champion Aerial Jumper of the World",[11] he began attempting to make a living from the risky occupation, by exhibiting medals he had won[5] and taking bets.

[50] The following evening, at 7 PM, the same toll collector recognised him and alerted police, who argued that allowing him to make the leap would be akin to standing idly by as someone threw themselves in front of a tram-car.

[50][51] Although accompanied by friends willing to pay a bail,[50] this was refused and he remained imprisoned in Horfield Prison until the 30th,[52] then "discharged ... upon furnishing sureties that he would make no further effort to jump from the bridge".

[53] Unable to raise both a £200 bail and two "sureties" of £100,[50] he spent a month in prison[7] and planned to attempt the bridge again after a six-month good behaviour bond expired in December.

[54] After attempting, unsuccessfully, to join Buffalo Bill's show, he began working as the manager of a sporting house,[3] a kind of tavern frequented by gamblers.

[56] In late October, he found employment as an emcee in Canning,[58] then at the Royal Aquarium, introducing local boxing celebrities Charles "Toff" Wall and Tom Smith.

[52] In his account, a Mr Baker deceived police by driving his trap across the bridge at 7:30 PM, indicating that he would shortly be returning, then picked up Donovan, who hid under the seat.

[64] The claim was evidently believed by a local auctioneer named "Mr Kay", who on March 13 presented him with a "massive silver cup, as a mark of appreciation of his pluck".

He had pawned his treasured gold medal given him by the Police Gazette, and was now publicly appealing for donations in order to reclaim it and to purchase passage back home.

[68] The drunken "spree" continued through to the late evening of Monday, August 6, 1888,[68] drinking at "one of the German clubs in the neighbourhood of Leicester Square",[43] apparently bragging about his past exploits.

A stern editorial in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle after his death wrote:[72] Before Donovan became afflicted with the bridge jumping craze he was an active and useful young working-man, equipped with an excellent mechanical trade and capable of caring for himself and those dependent on him.

Tickled by the excitement consequent upon his adventure in the East River, he surrendered to the promptings of vanity and a desire to lead what is termed 'a sporting life' From a worthy and reputable member of society he became transformed into an idle and shiftless fellow, whose ultimate aim appeared to be the exhibition of himself before inquisitive and unthinking people...Those who suffer death or mutilation by persistence in [dangerous activities] are not entitled to sympathy and will receive none from people capable of distinguishing the gasconading harlequinism of the hippodrome from genuine and reputable athletic sport.