Around the World on Foot: The Paper Suit

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By Davy Crockett

My new book, Around the World on Foot: The Early Globetrotters is available on Amazon. After an introduction to help you understand what in the world was going on, I will share a chapter about the strange tradition of starting in a paper suit.

I am pretty proud of this book. I wanted to share some details about what my research found. Years ago, as I was doing some research into transcontinental walks and runs, I came across some newspaper articles about two German men, in 1893, who were trying to walk all the way around the world, taking steamers between continents. I had never heard of something like that before, so I did some further research that resulted in episodes 38-45. But I still didn’t understand just how many people took part in the frenzy on foot.

In recent months, I researched the topic much deeper, which resulted in my new book, Around the World on Foot: The Early Globetrotters. The reason I’m proud of this book is that no one else has ever researched deeply the amazing event before. No one had ever before lined up side-by-side the hundreds of walker stories to answer many questions of why.

Why were there so many walkers? Some towns got tired of globetrotters continually coming into their towns.
Did any of them truly succeed circling the globe on foot?
How many of them were frauds?
Why did it take so long for the public, including newspaper reporters, to catch on to some schemes?
How many years did this fad last?
Why did many of these globetrotters start in paper suits?
Who originated that wild idea?
Were there really some around the world races as several of these globetrotters claimed?

I found the answers to many of these questions. My book will share more than 60 stories of men and women who attempted to walk around the world or were conning people into thinking they were. I don’t just tell the stories; I analyzed them for truthfulness and validity. If a walk was legitimate, it was covered in dozens or even hundreds of newspapers as they made progress across America, Canada, or Great Britain. If they went to Australia, they received news coverage there too. For a given walker, I collected all those articles together, plotted their progress and dates from town to town, to validate or invalidated their pace.

It was a fascinating exercise. For example, one walker was in Salt Lake City, Utah, and the very next day was 400 miles further west on the railroad line at Battle Mountain, Nevada. When he arrived in San Francisco, he proclaimed he walked every mile by foot across America. In my book, I point out these amusing claims and inconsistencies. Some fakers would appear in towns but have no one witnessing them going in or out of the town on foot. They would simply march into a newspaper office, give them a press release, try to set up a lecture, and free room and board.

The resulting book is hopefully entertaining, a bit mind-blowing, and at times amusing. I had to pull it all together to make sure this history was told. Now, to some details.

Introduction

In 1872, the French author, Jules Verne (1828-1905), released his renowned adventure book, Around the World in 80 Days. This novel fascinated readers with the idea of circumnavigating the world within a specific timeframe and encountering incredible sights.

Also, starting about that time, “pedestrianism,” competitive walking and running indoors in arenas and town halls, entered its heyday. Beginning in 1875, people began talking about the idea of walking around the world. Wagers were made, and some isolated attempts began. They had no true idea how far it was around the world, what roads and trails existed, how many miles could be walked each day, and how long it would take. It took over 100 years more for guidelines to be established for those who truly wanted to walk around the world.

How far is it to walk around the world? Today, the World Runners Association has set a standard that it must be at least 16,308 miles. Early pedestrians estimated it would be between 14,000 to 18,000 miles. As of 2023, the fastest known recognized time is 434 days, returning to the point of origin, although verification is nearly impossible on these journeys.

The Panic of 1893

In 1893, a severe depression hit America, called “the panic of 1893,” that created massive unemployment. From 1894 to 1897, at least 300 walkers took part in the “around the world on foot” fad that became a frenzy. For some, it was a legitimate ultrawalking attempt, but for most, it was just a scam to travel on other people’s generous contributions.

The Scam

The typical scam went like this: They claimed they were trying to walk around the world to win thousands of dollars on a wager (like Phileas Fogg), but they had to do it without spending their own money. They needed to be funded through the generosity of others, to get free room and board, and free travel on ships. Walkers came out of the woodwork and the newspapers reporters were fascinated by these attempts. Frauds copied ideas for their fictional stories from other pretenders, such as starting their around the world walk in a paper suit. Others pretended that they were in a multi-year race against others.

Sprinkled in with these self-promoting frauds were also those who were legitimately striving to circle the globe on foot. Their efforts were genuine and very hard. They underestimated the difficulty involved yet had amazing experiences.

Ultrarunning historian, Andy Milroy, commented, “The walkers depended a lot on the very believing nature of an often isolated people, who had little knowledge and understanding of what was involved in such a walk. Likewise, credulous reporters with limited knowledge had no true way to validate what they were being told. They needed a story and had deadlines to meet. The walkers started off with unrealistic, naïve expectations. The participants gradually compromised, took short cuts and rides, which were edited from their accounts and possibly from their memories. They often believed what they were saying. They became part of their fictionalized narrative. The whole point was attention seeking and gaining status, that is fundamental to any society. They invested their lives in this type of activity because it gave them notoriety, a touch of fame.”

Some Figure it Out

Eventually, some in the press got wise regarding the pretenders. These walkers started to be referred derisively as tramps, globetrotters, cranks, fools, or “around the world freaks.” One reporter wrote, “A great majority of these wanderers upon the face of the earth are men who would rather do anything than work.” Another astute reporter identified many of these walkers as “frauds, traveling over the country practicing a smooth game in order to be wined and dined.” A city in New Jersey was so tired of them that they wished the world was flat so that the tramps could walk off of the end of it.

The frauds and fakers thought no one could prove their activity as a scam. Most of them tried hard to get their tales printed in newspapers for every town they visited. They had no vision that someday it would be possible to collect all their articles together online, piece their travels together and prove that they were traveling impossible distances too fast, obviously aided by trains. Others, like the Romanian embellisher, Dumitru Dan (1890-1979), never foresaw that his 1910-1915 fictional around the world tale told in the 1960s could be proved false because of his own words in news articles that proved where he actually was. He even made it into the Guinness Book of World Records for a time.

Hundreds of Globetrotters

During the “around the world craze” hey-days of 1894-1897, there were several hundred globetrotters by foot who were mentioned in the newspapers. By 1898, the activity had diminished due to the end of the depression in 1897, and the enlistment of men in the Spanish American War. Also contributing to the decline was the realization by newspaper reporters that most of these walkers were frauds, deceiving people for money, and many of their stories were made up. Without newspapers covering the activity, walkers lost interest. However, this astonishing global walking activity continued with about 100 more global walkers each decade for another forty years, until World War II shut down the fad for good.

There were too many of these “globetrotters” to even list. My book recounts incredible and strange stories about 60 of the most widely covered walkers in the news, including the inexperienced, the successful few, the failures, the deceivers, and the impostors. Many walkers were well-educated and certainly not the typical tramp fakers. Some of the globetrotters became famous as explorers and were given credit for conducting valid walks around the world. But did they actually do it? What was their motivation for spending months and years of their lives in this activity, away from family and friends? What did they do with their lives after their walk? As you read the book, brace yourself for thrilling stories about globetrotters of long ago, who walked (or maybe rode) around the world, that have been collected for the first time together to be preserved.

I really wanted to solve the mystery of the paper suit. Who started it and why? I solved the mystery by finding the story of Paul Jones.

Paul Jones – The Tramp in the Paper Suit

In January 1894, a startling announcement was made in the Boston Globe by a member of the Boston Athletic Club. A man, who kept his true identity secret, going by Paul Jones, had accepted a $5,000 wager to walk around the world in only one year. But there was a huge twist to his challenge. He had to start naked. “Jones must present himself at the clubhouse, enter a room, and strip to the skin. He shall neither ask for, nor receive money except for services rendered.”

Jones was actually, Emil Charles Pfeiffer (1866-1935), from Cambridge, Massachusetts, originally from New Hampshire. His first job was as a Western Union telegram messenger at age thirteen, and he later found work on a farm. He went to Harvard, where he was on their 1889 rowing team. He worked as a teacher, a summer hotel cashier, and a skilled newspaper advertisement writer. He claimed that he could speak four languages.

Jones recounted how this strange journey was conceived during a conversation on New Year’s Eve with two affluent individuals in San Francisco. They were discussing how two Americans had traveled the globe with expenses totaling $8,000 (equivalent to $300,000 today). “I expressed the belief that a man with his wits about him could start out with nothing, go around the globe and come home again in a year having made $5,000. I said I was willing to wager $5,000 on it. I really didn’t have any plans when I started out.”

A man that knew Jones said, “He was always an adventurous sort of daredevil, and he had a way of accomplishing whatever he undertook.” Jones explained his background. “I’ve been most everything from a book agent to a prima donna, and I don’t feel offended to be called a ‘Jack-of-all-trades.’ I hold that the man who can do the most things and crowd the most interests into his life is the happiest man.”

Now he was going to be a “globetrotter.” He planned to walk from San Francisco to New York City, earn money to steam to London, England, and then head east across Europe. He joked about starting naked. “One of my friends suggests that as soon as I strip, I make a beeline for a Turkish bath and hire out as a masseur, but I’m not going to take chances of pneumonia.” He did share a few plans. “Once on the street, Mr. Jones proposes to teach the unemployed a profitable lesson in wage-earning by selling papers, running errands, or doing anything that comes in his way.”

The Paper Suit

Jones joined in on the around the world craze on February 12, 1894, even though there was a blizzard outside of the Press Club rooms in Boston, Massachusetts. Before going outdoors, he used some strange ways to earn money. “When the proper time came, Mr. Jomes announced to those present that all who cared to see him make the first move in the great around the world journey could do so by paying a small admission to another room.” On the door of the room given for him to take off his clothes, he put up a sign that read, “Paul Jones starts around the world from this room. Admission one cent.” Six reporters paid the admission to watch the naked man go to work. Stripping to the skin, he next paid a messenger to buy him newspapers and pins. He then constructed a paper costume “in fig-leaf fashion.”

“He next hired the parlor of the club for the evening and made the announcement that he would present some startling feats of personal magnetism, and by this power he would cause a chair to which he was bound hand and foot, to rock violently. His teeth were clenched and every muscle tense. In about fifteen seconds, the chair began to rock violently, and the onlookers made a second payment, but it was in applause this time. He raised $2.50 from the eager spectators. It was a case of bunco, and the feat was accomplished by simply bobbing his head to and fro, the chair swinging with motion.” He then charged the group to sing a song for them.

After that fund raising, he went back to his start room and started to make a suit of clothes that cost him four cents, made out of two newspapers, manilla paper, pins and glue. “One was wrapped about his waist and the other made into short trousers.” He then made a more substantial suit out of brown wrapping paper that cost him eleven cents. It took him around three hours to create it while he dined on a 45-cent supper. Dressed in more style, ready at 11:30 p.m., he again entertained guests in the parlor by performing more tricks.

The Walk Starts

Jones had taken in $5.71 for the day, spent $2.15 on some other articles and 40 cents for two pieces of leather that he made into sandals. At 1:45 a.m., he left the warm rooms of the Press Club dressed in his paper suit, covered by a horse blanket, and headed first to the Boston Tavern. “The storm had no terror for the man who will attempt to tour the world and make $5,000 while doing it.”

Within a couple days, he had made 35 miles to Attleboro, Massachusetts. By working at a clothing store, waiting tables, and shoveling snow, he had already raised $100. He exchanged his paper suit for something more substantial and stylish. Selling the paper suit brought him a significant profit, so he made another one from a horse blanket. He had pictures of himself taken and began selling them with his autograph. He was seen charging five cents for a handshake, a quarter for his autograph, and a dollar to run a 50-yard race. He became sponsored by The Continental Clothing House and a photography company. At Pawtucket, Rhode Island, he made the mistake of borrowing $50, from a professional mind reader acting as his local manager. This broke the terms of his alleged wager. Things started to unravel as Jone’s secret identity became known.

Jones Arrested

Jones’ walk around the globe came to an apparent abrupt end after about 50 miles at Providence, Rhode Island. He was arrested, taken to Springfield, Massachusetts, and thrown in jail for non-payment of debts. “It was the late and only Phineas T. Barnum who said, ‘The American public like to be humbugged.’ His deception was extensive, and he led everybody who came in contact with him into the belief that the wager was a reality, when in fact, it was a fake, which he has admitted. His whole conduct has been that of a game of bluff, which he has succeeded in working with some success, for he is a man of oily tongue.” It turned out that he wasn’t even associated with The Boston Athletic Association. He confessed to devising the scam for financial gain and fame.

Several individuals who were acquainted with him spoke up, testifying to his perpetually strange ideas and eccentric tendencies. He had run up debts and embezzled money from a school and was later fired. When he worked at another school in East Boston, his cruel behavior caused the students to retaliate by throwing mud and tin cans at him. He had to be rescued by six policemen. Yes, Paul Jones appeared to be quite a rogue character.

The Walk Continues

Jones wouldn’t be stopped. He got out of jail and continued his walk. He denied he was “a faker” and showed signed and notarized articles of agreement that had been put together for his start. However, it turned out to be only a document outlining the wager conditions he devised. It was signed by some witnesses confirming that he started naked. He still had many supporters and had a large amount of mail waiting for him when he was released. Some contained offers for him to appear in several towns and cities.

On March 5^th, he showed up in Hartford, Connecticut. He earned $3 selling photographs and autographs. Clearly, not all of the public knew about his arrest and confession, so his scam could be continued. Still, people made fun of him. “All the students of Yale propose to have him shine their shoes at least once, paying him 25 cents. As there are about 2,000 students, the job will last about six months, if he undertakes it.” At Yale, he started singing, and some students paid him to stop singing.

New York City

He arrived in New York City on March 9, 1894. The news characterized him as being a polished, but shady, businessman. He again insisted his wager was real, gave many lectures in the city, and was in no hurry to go to Europe to continue his global walk. In Brooklyn, he was hired by a drugstore to sell umbrellas at the bargain counter, dressed in a paper suit. The following week, he drew large crowds while working as a salesman at a clothing store, showcasing his suits made of paper and blankets. “He says he is one of those great American cranks who can do anything except earn his living by work.” Jones detailed one of his innovative marketing strategies. “I can sketch a little and I’d sit in a shop window and sketch those who stood in front of it. When I finished a sketch, I would point to the man, and he’d look at a sign which said, ‘Come in and get your sketch.’ When he got inside, they would try to sell him goods in order to get their money back.”

Copycat Nudists

On March 21, 1894, copycats came out at St. John, New Brunswick, Canada. An American man who gave his name as “Paul Revere” (a.k.a. Arthur A. Chesley (1867-1947)) and his bigamist new wife (Mrs. Munz) announced that they were starting a tour around the world. “Man and woman disrobed in a private room, and the latter made suits for both out of canvas, and all their clothing, even to the underclothing, was then sold to parties for about $11.” However, their love didn’t endure, and they broke up within a few weeks, leading many to believe their global journey had come to an end. But scams are hard to give up. Within a month, they were in Buffalo, New York, selling pictures together. A Buffalo newspaper commented, “Globe girdling on nerve (boldness) is becoming such a common occurrence that it has lost its novelty. People are not much interested now in a person who, starting naked, works his way around the world in a year.”

Thrown in Jail Again

Jones had announced plans that he would be sailing to Europe on May 19^th, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he was arrested again, this time in Jersey City for skipping out on a hotel bill. He was thrown in the city jail.

Heading in the Wrong Direction

In July 1894, two months later, he was in western New York at Rochester, searching for a store that would hire him to showcase his paper suit. “Judging from his appearance, Mr. Jones seems to be doing quite well.” He was hired by a dry goods store to sell autographed books and candy. It was obvious that he was no longer walking between places, but for the curious, his tale is continued.

A few weeks later, with his year half over, he was still going west, and was in Erie, Pennsylvania, selling handkerchiefs in a store. He claimed that he had earned $2,000 so far. He was now traveling with a 15-year-old newsboy from Rochester, James Anthony Murphy (1879-) who was serving as his secretary to help him find jobs. His new plan was to tour the Midwest and return to New York with enough money to sail to Europe. But plans during bogus wagers were easy to change. In September 1894, he said he was heading to San Francisco, California, and would then sail to Australia, heading around the world east to west.

Kansas City, Missouri

At the end of September, Jones arrived in Kansas City, Missouri. When asked about his motivation for his journey, he said, “A man can’t see a country by staying in his hotel. He’s got to get out and mix with people, engage in their pursuits, and put himself in their situations. I wanted to show what an American can do by hard work and scheming. I decided to become a freak for a year. I figured on people’s curiosity and credulity and readily went into the wager.” He said he had earned between $3.50 to $115.00 per day for a total of $3,500. “Jones is kept occupied devising schemes to secure transportation on the railways and board at the hotels, and they are usually successful. He has been twice arrested and easily cleared himself in both cases. Jones is earning his board at the Coates by playing pool in the barroom and drawing a crowd.”

Shamefully, at the end of October 1894, Jones deserted his boy, Murphy, leaving him in Kansas City without any funds. Murphy said that he was tired of the “freak business” anyway. Jones left a letter for him, asking to meet in Denver, only to go east and abandon Murphy. The boy obtained employment from a famous boxer, James J. Corbett (1866-1933), the heavyweight champion of the world, carrying his bags on a trip to the west. Murphy said of Jones, “He is a frost certain. He did me dirty and I’ll bob around a while and make him some trouble when he returns to Boston next spring.”

London, England

Jones rode the train to New York City, reversing his around the world trip again, and immediately applied for a passport. It was quickly processed. On the application, he stated that he intended to be out of the country until about February 1, 1895, which matched up with his “wager.” With his passport, Jones soon took a steamship to Liverpool, England, arriving in about mid November 1894, on the Umbria, selling photographs to the 332 passengers. He wasn’t on the passenger list, so he may have worked with the crew.

Jones was hosted at The London Concentric Club on November 21st. He entertained them by singing and then told the familiar tale of how his journey started. He added, “The newspapers wrote me up, and I soon found that I could make money. I was hired by proprietors of various kinds of businesses to work for them. Some paid me $25 a day for three days. I have got as much as $200 for a week. I traveled over a great part of the United States. I exhibited my paper suit everywhere. In this way, since last February, I have made $3,800 and then I thought it was time to come to Europe.” He had thought of going about the streets of England in his paper suit and wearing advertisements on the collar and across the chest and back. But the damp climate wouldn’t make that possible. A hat was passed around and he received five pounds, 16 shillings. He told them he was heading to Germany, France, Egypt, India, China, Japan, Canada, and then back to Boston. He said, “I have until next February so that I have plenty of time, and I’ve made most of the money, and am easy on the score.”

While in London, he claimed to make a wager that he could walk on Piccadilly Square, selling newspapers in his paper suit. “The bobbies (policemen) were so struck with consternation at his effrontery that his time was up before they could gather themselves together.”

By Ship to Japan

For the remaining seven weeks of his trip, Jones needed to travel about 2,000 miles by boat and train to Brussels, Berlin, Rome and Naples, Italy, and then about 15,000 miles by steamer via the Suez Canal, to Hong Kong (Christmas Day), to Japan, and finally to Vancouver, Canada. He later gave a detailed trip report that mentioned some extended layovers in cities, including an entire week in Berlin. This account did not match up with timelines and thus included plenty of fiction about stopping for days in places he would not have had time to stay. “On the way along the Indian ports, he picked up many curios and these with what he picked up in Japan fill two immense cases.” At Hong Kong, he sold his autographs and lectured at an English Club.

Back to America

He lastly went to Japan and sailed on the Empress of Japan in steerage to Vancouver, Canada, arriving on January 15, 1895. He next headed to Seattle, Washington, and on to Portland, Oregon on January 29, 1895. After riding the train to Spokane, Washington, he boarded the Northern Pacific Express to head east and passed through Montana the next day. He unexpectedly left the train and stayed at a hotel in Minneapolis on February 2nd. He worked for several days in a dry goods store and left the city on February 5^th.

Finish?

From that point, Jones disappeared. You might have been expecting a large-scale event to be organized and advertised on February 12th, to celebrate the culmination of his around the world expedition. Instead, there was silence. There was no mention in the newspapers at all. Why? Because the Boston newspapers, The Boston Athletic Association, and Jones, all knew the wager was a huge hoax. Additionally, there were likely creditors eager to pursue him once more on his return.

Jones quietly returned to Cambridge and resumed his true identity of Emil Pfeiffer. With no solid proof that he arrived in Boston by February 12^,1895, the San Francisco Examiner speculated that he had been committed to an asylum. Others believed that the original Paul Jones was still in a Rhode Island penitentiary, serving a five-year term, that an impersonator had been the globetrotter. More than two months later, the Boston Globe reported that Jones was claiming that he won his wager. They didn’t believe it. What really happened remains a globetrotter tramp mystery.

Following Years

This we know: In 1898, Pheiffer said he would ride through the eastern states “and in each town he visits he will print a paper without dismounting from his wheel. The paper is to be called On the Go and will consist of four pages with items of local interest and will run off in view of everyone on a small press carried on the front of his machine.”

Instead, he got married that year in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Mollie Frances Holbrook (1870-1954). They then moved to Seattle, Washington, near her family, where he continued in the newspaper business, and had a daughter. While in Boston in 1901, he was arrested once more, this time for petty theft and fraudulent acquisition of funds, which The Boston Globe considered a concise summary of his existence. He later moved to California, where he died on November 25, 1934, in Los Angeles.

If nothing else, Paul Jones, a.k.a. Emil Pfeiffer invented the story of the paper suit which was copied by at least twenty globetrotters in the years following him.

150: Around the World on Foot: The Paper Suits