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By Davy Crockett
The “around the world on foot” craze of the 1890s was first dominated by Americans, but eventually spread to Europeans. Some very interesting individuals, mostly from Germany and France, appeared in New York City claiming to be making a global journey on foot. Most were usually highly educated and impressive. Why would someone leave their well-respected careers and endure the hardship of being on the road for months and years? But the biggest question is why the public and news press could believe in such a hoax. Well, some figured it out. Here are three stories that were followed in newspapers across America. In a way, this was their way of following a continuing reality show that was often printed on the front pages of newspapers. These three stories are among more than 60 included in my new book, Around the World on Foot: The Early Globetrotters.
Three German Barons
Some young men in New York City had an ingenious scheme to escape depression-induced poverty and get treated like royalty. On June 10, 1896, three men professing to be German officers took the city hall in New York City by surprise, when they came into the building dressed in military uniforms. They handed their cards to a policeman and explained who they were: Baron Otto Von Sarkmitzlaff, Baron Friedrich Ferdinand von Levetzow, and Baron Alexander von Kawezynski. Since they didn’t speak English, an interpreter was promptly summoned. Through the interpreter, a story unfolded that they were German officers on a furlough and were walking around the world on foot for a secret wager.
They wanted their travel book to be signed by Mayor William Lafayette Strong (1827-1900) “As they advanced toward the mayor, they saluted with their right hands.” The mayor signed the book, and the city seal was stamped in it. For an unknown reason, the three individuals were hesitant to sign their names in the city hall visitor’s book. They also would not reveal their around the world route, except to state that they were going to “foot it” to San Francisco. Their next near-term destination was Albany, New York.
The three had their skeptics and after they left the city, some were puzzled. “Friends of the trio are at a loss to account for their action at city hall, as two of the young noblemen have resided in New York for the last three years. What their object could have been in getting the mayor to sign a voucher for an alleged pedestrian trip around the world, no one seemed to be able to explain.”
A week later, two of the “barons,” including a new one, were 180 miles to the west in Sunbury, Pennsylvania instead of going north to Albany. They now spoke English fluently and finally came up with a story. They claimed to have begun their journey from New York City with no money and were required to report to the mayor of New York within two years after going all the way around the world. Instead of being in uniforms, they were now dressed in $5 suits they had acquired from a pawnbroker. They said they could not ride on trains, but oddly could ride in farmer’s wagons. As proof of their identity, they pointed out the New York seal in their book, signed by the mayor. They claimed that a year earlier in Berlin, Germany, they were in a café where some Americans were bragging about the U.S. Army’s superiority. Levetzow then boasted that he could walk around the world, and a wager was established.
After their visit to Sunbury, a man, Burgess Stern, let the city know that the two were frauds. “Stern claims that he has positive proof of the facts, as he saw them riding on the train cars, which they claimed they were not allowed to do and that they are two frauds who make it a business to fake people out of all they can.”
As the men arrived in cities, they would seek out any German immigrant populations, let them know they were barons, and would then be treated like royalty with the best room and board available. In only one month, the German “noblemen” had “walked” about 1,000 miles to Davenport, Iowa. They insisted that they had walked the entire distance, averaging 34 miles per day. The Iowans said, “The young soldiers are fine specimens of physical manhood. They are powerfully built men and have the carriage and true bearing of well-disciplined soldiers. They carry photographs of themselves along with them which they sell when they get a chance.” Levetzow said, “I like this country very much and the people are hospitable, more hospitable the father west we go.” He had heard that some people in Chicago thought they were fakes, but said he had proof that they were not.
In Nebraska, it was observed, “They travel as ordinary tramps without purse or baggage, but because of their high rank, are well provided for wherever they stop. They have two dogs for companions, a Siberian wolf hound who responds to Silver and the other, an American setter answers to Gold. They tell the common tramps they come in contact with that they are kings of tramps by order of the Emperor of Germany and they are not molested.”
By the end of 1896, they were seen in El Paso, Texas. From Denver, Colorado, they rode on horses. Levetzow’s companion kept changing as he traveled. It was now Baron Adda Von Sack. In May 1897, they showed up in San Francisco, California. They were now going around the world on foot and by horseback. The reason for the wager was now a result of a discussion with two British Lords about traveling around the world without the aid of wheeled vehicles, and they were given two years to prove it.
Reporters in Los Angeles revealed that the Barons were fakes. “It will be perfectly safe and expedient to give the Barons a cold shoulder instead of the glad hand, for they are rank imposters.” The reporters had received a telegram from colleagues in San Francisco who figured out the two British Lords mentioned in their story did not exist. It was noted that a few months earlier they had “worked” (scammed) Denver, Colorado. “They were introduced to all the pretty girls and made at home in some of the swell civilian dwellings on Capitol hill. Now they have bobbed serenely up at San Francisco. Their season of dalliance with society there will doubtless be brief.” It was indeed brief. The gig was up, and they stopped their scam. Lincoln, Nebraska, mocked Omaha Nebraska’s paper for being so fooled. “They have been discovered to be nothing less than two mischievous and impecunious young men of German ancestry and American birth, who have hit upon this ingenious scheme for getting away from their home in New York and traveling over the country with all the advantages of a made-to-order social position.”
In February 1899, Levetzow was found frozen to death in Fort Collins, Colorado. He had arrived in the city from California six months earlier and represented himself to be of noble birth, heir to the title and estate of Baron de Levetzow. He left papers behind, including a card with the name “Le Baron Ferdinand de Levetzow, Berlin.” He had been out hunting and was overcome by the severe cold.
Lucien Dufay – Tramping Druggist in a Paper Suit
On January 11, 1897, a French pharmaceutical student and assistant chemist, named Lucien Dufay embarked on a three-year around the world walk, in paper clothing for 100,000 francs to be awarded by Le Journal newspaper, where he was a reporter. In addition to wearing paper clothing, another condition was that he could not shave or get a haircut “so that he will run the risk of being taken for a Nihilist when he walks through Russia.” (A Nihilist was a supporter of an extreme Russian revolutionary party.) He said he hoped to make it around the world in time to attend the Paris Exposition of 1900.
Dufay wouldn’t just start in the paper suit; he would continually wear it, along with sandals and a paper hat. “His object is to prove the weather resisting qualities of paper. A crowd gathered outside of Le Journal offices from which Dufay set out. He was followed along the Boulevards by thousands of persons, one of whom set fire to his coat.” The fire was extinguished rapidly, and he emerged unharmed. The paper clothes, made from issues of Le Journal, soon “chaffed him unmercifully.” He planned first to walk to Le Havre, France, and then sail to America.
Why would a medical student, who appeared to be successful, engage in the around the world fad, using a likely fake wager as motivation? He explained how it came about. At a Paris cafe one evening, he was in the company of a couple of doctors. The topic of their discussion centered on globetrotters, especially an American journalist Nellie Bly (1864-1922), who was planning to travel around the world alone in 1889, like Phileas Fogg. (She would do it in 72 days.) “Dufay made the remark that, that was no task to travel by steam, but if a person did it on foot, it would be worthy of special note. Then he ventured the assertion that he could do it himself.” The doctors offered to put up $10,000 each, in a wager. When the owner of Le Journal heard of the proposed walk around the world, he matched their amount, bringing it up to $40,000 (100,000 francs). The French medical organization gave him permission to write prescriptions for patients along the way. Dufay said he was doing it to enrich his mind. He looked forward to reaching Manchuria, China, where he intended to make scientific explorations.
Dufay’s plan didn’t go well. “He arrived at Le Havre in a pitiful condition. His thick newspaper suit, which he persisted in wearing during the journey, was toned down to the thinness of a shirt, and his feet were sore.” He went to Liverpool, England, intending to sail to America if he could find work on the ship, as he could not afford to spend any money. He ditched the paper suit for a real one.
New York City
Dufay reached New York City by the SS City of New York on March 5, 1897. On the passenger list, his occupation was “journalist” and there was a note, “touring around the world.” Since he had no money, he was held up at Ellis Island for a day as they considered returning him to France because he was a pauper. A New York newspaper helped him get released. Communication was tough because he only spoke French and Latin but could read English. While in the city for three weeks, he used his medical skills to nurse a rich man for several days and earn money. He spent the funds on small items such as souvenirs and did not have much left.
On April 16, 1897, he walked nearly 400 miles to Rochester, New York, on the railroad tracks. They commented, “Dufay is quite tall, fair-haired, has blue eyes and a typical French beard. He has a long stride and appears to be a strong walker.” The letters he carried convinced people that he was well-known in France and was a brilliant man. He used a clever travel and support strategy to win over public sympathies. At each stopping point, he pointed out the few cents he had in his pockets, gaining sympathy. He was given a new pair of boots at Windsor, Canada (across the river from Detroit, Michigan). “He then went on his way rejoicing.”
Midwest
Arriving at Michigan, he looked like “a seedy individual, but evidently a legitimate member of the journalist craft.”
He reached Chicago, Illinois on May 21, 1897, where he rested for a few days. In his seven weeks on the road in America, he had covered approximately 1,100 miles, which was a realistic walking pace in favorable weather conditions, supported by evidence from newspaper articles. “The writers in the Windy City were unanimous in declaring that Lucien needs a shave and a haircut.”
After three months, he reached Omaha, Nebraska and had walked 1,600 miles. He picked up a spaniel dog somewhere in Iowa, but claimed it came with him from England. At Central City, Nebraska, in late July, he spent several days caring for some patients.
Dufay specialized in treating rheumatism (arthritis) and paused eight more days to treat patients at Grand Island, Nebraska, where they considered him “a genuine globetrotter.” His pace during the month slowed significantly across Nebraska because of his doctoring. A salesman, James Henderson (1859-1928), wrote into the town’s newspaper praising Dufay’s remedy for rheumatism that “turned weeps to tears of joy.” Dufay started to be called, “Dr. Dufay.” He made a solid impression on the people scattered across Nebraska. “It takes a big heart and a world of determination to undertake to perform such a feat and there is no estimating the amount of grit and energy necessary to make it a success.”
Mountain West
Dufay reached Salt Lake City, Utah, on December 21, 1897. After eight months, he had covered 2,600 miles. After appearing to walk every step from New York City to Laramie, Wyoming, it is believed that he started using the train at this point. Like many before him attempting to cross the western desert in the winter solo, he probably found it too hard and dangerously impossible. He jumped about 400 miles from Salt Lake City to Battle Mountain, Nevada, in a day.
Pacific West Coast
Dufay arrived in San Francisco, California, on January 24, 1898. He confessed to taking the train from Sacramento. He was probably caught, because he mentioned a plan to go back to Sacramento and walk back to San Francisco “to make his pedestrian trip good.” Next, he planned to take a steamship to Japan. In the city “he presented a picturesque figure on the streets in top boots and corduroy knee breeches, with a deep band of his country’s colors about his arm.”
Dufay headed north and arrived in Seattle, Washington, on April 15, 1898, still claiming that he walked every step across America. “He has a big bundle of testimonials from postmasters and newspaper men of towns where he has visited, and columns of newspapers space have been devoted to his exploits.” Continuing his journey, he arrived in Vancouver, Canada, by ship and expressed his intention to catch a steamer to Japan.
A transformation took place in his dress. “He was clad in garb which vied with a Klondike costume in the matter of lurid colors, his hair hung in unwonted profusion down his shoulders and his baggage consisted of a light cane, which he twirled nonchalantly in his right hand.” Dufay’s around the world trip ended at this point.
Gold Fever
The Pacific Northwest experienced a significant migration north during that time because of the Klondike gold rush in Canada that started in 1896 and the Nome Gold Rush that began in 1899, soon after Dufay arrived in Vancouver. He must have caught gold fever. A year later, in 1900, he worked as a doctor and miner in multiple isolated regions of Alaska near Nome.
Within four years, he moved to Reno, Nevada, where he continued mining in the mountains near Truckee, California. It was reported in 1912 that he struck it rich in the Last Chance District, about 40 miles north of Reno. He found another streak of gold, silver and lead in 1926. In 1934, he died of a heart attack in Reno, Nevada, at the age of 72, leaving behind a wife and son. Was his around the world journey real? Or was it all a ruse for him to travel for free to the gold fields in the Klondike and Alaska?
Eight Globetrotters on Foot
In early October 1898, New York City newspapers announced that a large group of eight educated men would go on an around the world walk for three years. It would be organized by Rudolph Clayton De Zapp (1862-1939), a journalist and experienced traveler from Washington D.C. Their group was named, “Leslie-DeZapp Newspaper Expedition.” Leslie was the name of the magazine that he wrote for, Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper (1855-1922). The stated purpose was to gather content for newspaper and magazine articles. “The others go along for the sake of seeing more of the world.” Newspapers worldwide took notice of the excursion, despite skepticism from past global frauds in recent years.
The group consisted of young men in their twenties, all of whom had a strong travel background. They were a journalist, a reporter, an archaeologist, a linguist, an artist, a music critic, and a geologist. De Zapp carefully chose his team from 150 applicants, and he knew this would be the largest party who ever tried to walk around the world. The other men were Sydney Oilendorf (1873-) of Canada, who “tried successively a commercial and theatrical life, and then started to walk across the Canadian continent, an enthusiast botanist,” Henry Louis Sanguinetti (1862-1931), of New York, “an inveterate traveler, who had spent most years of his life in wandering through the world,” Lelias E. Brown, of Brooklyn, New York, “a commercial man who believes that his health will be benefited, a skillful boxer and fencer, devoted to athletic exercise,” Charles C. Koehler (1873-1922) of New York, “a sturdy young businessman, and will make the tour to finish his education, joined the party in order to escape from the hum-drum life of the city,” Severin A. Jackson (1869-1944) of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, “a skilled geologist, who will gather materials for a series of scientific papers, studied in Copenhagen, Denmark where he received high honor for his papers on his specialty,” Wally Langerfield, an archaeologist, and Roy Edmunds, of New York City, “a photographer who joined the navy and served with distinction in the recent Spanish American War as one of the crew of the battleship Oregon, and has seen much of the war.” Two others were scheduled to join the party later, E. E. Cummings and Carl V. Greatorex (1874-) of England, a travel agent.
De Zapp, who could speak four languages, claimed that he had previously ridden a bicycle in Europe and said he had crossed Asia, riding around the world in 18 months. “He is a man of unconquerable will, and it can be taken for granted that no matter who falls out of the expedition as it travels around the world, De Zapp will keep going and reach the finish post at the office of the Leslie Syndicate in due time.” He thought that his many friends across Europe, ranging from emperors to tramps, would provide help during their journey.
Dr. De Zapp had some experience with tramps. On April 26, 1895, while a law student in Philadelphia, he was attacked by tramps on the way home as he passed by a freight car. “De Zapp, who is quite an athlete, struck out from the shoulder and soon had the two men biting the dust while he made his escape.” He had a checkered past. He was arrested in 1897 for forging names on security bonds and insurance checks from a company he worked for.
As the leader of the group, “he gives evidence of abundant energy and a chested, sturdy man, whose manner gives evidence of the tireless buoyancy necessary in the leader of such an expedition as this.” He explained their east-to-west plan. “We will travel across the American continent by way of the south, working at any temporary employment that is offered to pay current expenses. We intend to lecture and write for the newspapers. From San Francisco we will take a ship to Hawaii and thence to China, where we will strike inland and across Asia to Russia and so through Europe. We shall be armed only with revolvers, but we all know how to use them, and it will go hard with any band of brigands that has the temerity to attack us on our long tramp.”
By first heading south as far as New Orleans, Louisiana, they hoped to stay out of the cold winter weather for most of their trip across America. It was further explained, “They were equipped with a rubber sleeping bag, a change of clothing, a toothbrush, $100 or so apiece, and armed with revolvers. They are under agreement to earn expenses by lecturing and relating experiences. They must walk the entire distance, when walking can be accomplished. They will furnish their respective papers with incidents and stories of their journey.”
Jokes around the country were immediately made about New Yorkers who believe the entire world existed only in their city. The Chicago Record wrote, “It is said that for some time residents of Manhattan Island have been talking of the possibility of something existing west of New Jersey.”
They started on October 3, 1898, to the cheers of a crowd of well-wishers. The young men marched two by two through the streets of Jersey City to cheers and jeers. “Walking around the world is not to everybody’s taste. With De Zapp at the head, the boys tramped along the trolley way, after taking a fond farewell look at the hazy harbor of New York, in the center of which loomed up the figure of Miss Liberty. Then, with faces set toward the West, the marchers hoofed it merrily along.” They reached Newark, New Jersey, as the sun was going down and were greeted by many newspaper reporters who gave them a royal reception and a great dinner.
They reached the rural country on the second day and camped out for the night in a hayloft provided by a good-natured farmer. Blisters on the rookie walker’s feet were treated. Their first major incident occurred on the third day. “Gangs of tramps undertook to put an end to the expedition by slaughtering the members. Being athletes, everyone, they speedily put the pugnacious hobos to fight.”
They went through Princeton, New Jersey, where “a concourse of college boys” came out to cheer them on. Along the way, their conversations centered on the history of the places they were visiting. On one night, they slept in a barn room where they were locked in for safety. They woke up in freezing cold, because they were in a refrigerator room and the cooling machinery had been started. They escaped through a window.
On the October 6th, they spent the night in Trenton, New Jersey, where they visited the state house and procured the state seal. “The young men are well-equipped for their tramp, being dressed in heavy woolen clothes, leggings, and broad-brimmed hats.” De Zapp figured out that they would go much faster if they reduced their numbers, so they split up into two groups. On the 10th, they arrived in Wilmington, Delaware, walking about 130 miles during their first week. On the 19th, five of the group walked into Washington D.C. (250 miles). Four of them took another route and were a day behind. The five had pushed for speed and walked 48 miles in one day. They had a daybook in which they collected signatures and certificates.
Apparently, the walk stopped in Washington D.C., De Zapp’s home, for unknown reasons, disappointing the many readers who were interested in their walk. Perhaps that was the finish destination all along and it was just a publicity stunt for the newspaper. Two years later,, in 1900, De Zapp was back writing for Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper. He later wrote a book on the construction of the Washington Monument and died in 1939.