by The Lost Cyclist: The Epic Tale of an American Adventurer;His Mysterious Disappearance
The minister also bitterly alluded to Sachtleben's relentless and highly public criticism. "All your letters have been forwarded to the State Department as received, with your frequent references to the disgraceful conduct of your Government, your interesting advice to me regarding my duty, and your lengthy arguments on international law and the proper policy of the United States abroad." Terrell also lambasted Sachtleben for his appalling ingratitude. "While hunting for murderers among wild Kurds where even Turks exercise small control, you should remember that your own bones would now be in an unknown grave, were it not for the forethought of the Government, which you have more than once maligned. Frankly, it doesn't become you, sir, to criticize your government for inaction, when you had the assistance of Shakir Pasha, the chief officer in the six provinces. But no doubt you will satisfy yourself that your personal influence secured his services."
The minister also asserted that he could do little to assist the incarcerated Armenians, placing the blame for their predicament squarely on Sachtleben himself. "Before producing Armenian priests and witnesses in the country of the Kurds to prove that Kurds were murderers," he admonished the investigator, "you should have weighed the consequences to those witnesses." He closed with a blunt piece of advice: "If you can get safely out of Turkey and return home, it would be well for you to do so."
Sachtleben conceded to Langhans that the situation in Erzurum had become intolerable. "One of the Armenians has succumbed to the horrors and torment of the Turkish prison, and is now dead and buried beside the 600 odd victims who were massacred in this city not long ago. Another prisoner, I understand, is almost dead and the other three are quite sick. Even Dahar, the Kurd, is sick." Meanwhile, the villagers of Alashgerd "are threatened with destruction unless the one Kurd here is released." Confessed Sachtleben: "I cannot keep this up many days more. I'm sick of the entire business and have lost all hope. I am seriously thinking of letting the Kurd and the Armenians go until all the Kurds can be captured. It is useless keeping them here unless the true murderers of Lenz are brought in."
The plight of the Armenian prisoners was indeed lamentable. Wrote Chambers to Barton at the close of the year:
I am sorry to say that two of the Armenians arrested in the Lenz case have died in prison and the remaining three are in serious danger. These men are absolutely innocent, I am convinced. It was sad that Lenz was murdered, but it increases the sadness greatly to think that these innocent men are sacrificed for the sake of a murdered American. Their families have been robbed and left in most destitute circumstances, and now this sorrow is added. Oh, what infinite sadness hangs like a pall over this land.
In early 1896, the Criminal Court of the First Instance formally accused Moostoe and the surviving Armenians of Lenz's murder. It recommended sentences of fifteen years in prison and ordered them to stand trial in Erzurum for the final verdict. For Sachtleben, the preliminary decision offered little satisfaction. With Moostoe on the lam, his conviction would mean little. Meanwhile, the three incarcerated Armenians, barely clinging to their lives, faced more torment.
Sachtleben determined that the best he could do for the surviving Armenians was to prevail upon Shakir to release them on bail pending the advent of the trial. Meanwhile, he would leave the task of exonerating them to Leo Bergholz, the newly appointed American consul in Erzurum, who had agreed to take up the case. Sachtleben also hoped that Bergholz would eventually force Moostoe's recapture and conviction.
On January 4, 1896, Sachtleben confirmed to Langhans that he had secured the release of the Armenians. "After the death of the two Armenians, we renewed our solicitations to Shakir Pasha to have the others, who were all sick and likely to die, released. At length he consented, but on the peculiar grounds that he thought the two who had died in prison were the men who had murdered Lenz."
In mid-January, Cumberbatch, who was monitoring the case until Bergholz could take over, wrote the British minister Currie to explain the status of Sachtleben's preparations. "When things are in a more satisfactory state, I would suggest that the United States Legation should insist on the arrest and trial of Moostoe. A certain Kiazim Agha and another Kurd named Tahar [Dahar] as well as a priest called Der Arsen, are, I believe, in a position to throw considerable light on the proceedings regarding Moostoe, but they have, so far, preserved a stubborn silence owing to fear of that individual."
Confident that he had done all he could to advance the Lenz case, Sachtleben began to plan his return to the United States. Of course, given the prevailing chaos, he had long ago abandoned the idea of completing Lenz's journey by bicycle. He would be lucky simply to get out of the country alive, especially since he would be smuggling incriminating photos. He wrote his father to explain that he would leave as soon as he could, but that he might have to wait many weeks before conditions improved. Noted Sachtleben: "Brigands and road agents infest the highways. Every step taken by the innocent traveler is full of peril and very liable to end in death."
Even if conditions had permitted a bicycle ride, Sachtleben was through working for Worman. Some months earlier, the editor had written Sachtleben with instructions to return home, but the correspondent had chosen to ignore them. He was determined to wrap up the Lenz matter as best he could, while pursuing his new duties as a correspondent with the Times of London. He was also intent on gathering materials for his upcoming lectures on Armenian massacres. Indeed, his agent, Will Sauvage of Alton, was already in New York booking engagements for the spring.
Finally, on the morning of February 24, Sachtleben judged conditions safe enough to leave Erzurum. He bid a fond farewell to his hosts and began to retrace his way back to Trebizond. Joining him on the journey was a twenty-two-year-old Armenian cigarette maker named Mihran Sieaganiam. The young man had begged Sachtleben to take him to America, offering $30 to cover his travel expenses. He longed to find work there so that he could relocate his relatives, who had barely survived the recent massacres. Despite the heavy snow, the travelers opted to go by horseback rather than by sleigh.
The Alton papers announced that their hometown hero was at last heading home. One reporter stressed the positive:
Mr. Sachtleben's mission, though not entirely successful, has been of such a dangerous and patriotic nature that America has watched every movement he has made. He went into a lawless country and he learned not only that the American had been murdered but also who his murderers were. With a daring and determination characteristic of blue blooded America, he did not pause until he had landed every one of them behind bars. But it was there that he faced insurmountable obstacles. The massacre of Armenians and the state of war into which the country was thrown gave the friends of the prisoners opportunity to liberate them.
Two months later, after brief stops in Vienna, Paris, and London, Sachtleben debarked in New York City. A correspondent with the American Wheelman was "surprised to see to what an extent Mr. Sachtleben had aged, several new wrinkles having made their appearance on his face." Conceded the wheelman: "This trip has added about ten years to my age. When I left New York I felt young. Now I feel like an old man; all my boyishness is gone."
Still, Sachtleben cheerfully asserted, "I am glad to get back here, where I can occasionally see a smile on the face of my fellow men." As for the Lenz matter, he affirmed: "The only thing to be done now is for the United States government to compel the Turkish government to pay an indemnity to Mrs. Lenz. I have done all that could possibly be done under the circumstances."
Sachtleben sent Mihran ahead to St. Louis to assist his partner Homer Canfield in the bicycle store. A local newspaper snidely remarked upon his arrival: "Sachtleben could not bring back Lenz, but he brought a substitute." The investigator, meanwhile, lingered in New York to tend to various business matters. At one point, he met with Worman and offered to write up his recent experiences for Outing, but this time the two failed to reach an accord.
In late April, Sachtleben finally headed west. He made a brief stop in Pittsburgh to
meet once again with Mrs. Lenz and Frank's friends. No sooner had he stepped off the train than a swarm of reporters surrounded him. To the Leader man, he expressed his profound admiration for the lost cyclist:
In my opinion he was the bravest man that ever strode a bicycle. Had he survived another week, chances are he would have lived to tell exactly what it feels like to travel around the world alone on a wheel. His undertaking was an awful one, and it is really surprising that he could have gotten as far as he did. No one can realize the hardships of such a journey unless they try it. When more than one go at a time it is different, but when a man tries it all by his lonesome I tell you it is risky. Allen and I were not bothered much, but Frank had plenty of trouble coming through Asia, and was killed in the worst portion of the whole country.
Sachtleben delivered Frank's abandoned trunk to the grieving mother and told her all he knew about her son's fate. He was gratified to learn that the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York had consigned a check for $3,000 to Mrs. Lenz's lawyer, Arnold Schneider, though the company insisted that it was not obligated to do so in view of the insufficient evidence of Lenz's death. Sachtleben predicted that the Turkish government would eventually be compelled to pay an indemnity, if the American government took the matter in hand. He spent the afternoon with Langhans, touring the Carnegie steel works in nearby Homestead, before resuming his journey.
When Sachtleben dismounted in St. Louis, he reunited with his younger sister Minnie. Once again, his aged appearance became a topic of general conversation. "He was hardly recognized here," affirmed a St. Louis paper, "such a change has been wrought in his countenance by the hardships and dangers he has gone through and the terrible outrages he has been compelled to witness." When he reached Alton later the same day, he strolled down the street toward his father's house, shaking hands with a sea of admirers. They, too, were startled by his haggard look.
Feeling the need for a prolonged rest, Sachtleben canceled his spring lectures and postponed his tour until the fall. The wheelman nonetheless agreed to keep two important impending engagements: one in Pittsburgh at the end of May to discuss the Lenz case, eagerly anticipated by Lenz's friends, and another in Alton a few weeks later to expose the Armenian massacres.
Once he regained his health and vigor, Sachtleben also planned to devote time to his bicycle store, where business was better than ever. Reported a St. Louis paper:
The reputation of Canfield and Sachtleben extends further than any other local firm, thanks to the prominence of its junior member, whose fame is world wide. Its quarters at 421 Seventh Street are being fitted up in lavish style. On the first floor is the display room, on the second floor is the sales room for ladies' wheels, and on the third floor are the storeroom and repair shop. The basement is provided with lockers and baths for the use of wheelmen, quite an acceptable innovation.
Sachtleben had barely settled back in Alton when yet another attractive option came his way. The Times of London wrote to propose sending him to Cuba as a war correspondent. "The offer was entirely unexpected," a local paper reported. "Sachtleben corresponded regularly for the Times from Erzurum during the Armenian massacres, and visited their headquarters at London on his way home. But nothing was said to him at that time about going to Cuba." Affirmed Sachtleben: "The Times makes me a splendid offer and I am more than half tempted. I understand that their present representative in Cuba is not giving entire satisfaction. I presume they want someone who will face personal danger and get right out where the fighting is. But I hardly like to leave home so soon after getting back from Asia. If my departure can be delayed a bit I may accept."
On May 15, just as Pittsburghers were eagerly awaiting Sachtleben's return to their city, they were surprised to hear that the embattled American minister to Turkey himself, Alexander Watkins Terrell, had been spotted in town. "He was decidedly averse to talking or even of saying who he was at first," the Dispatch reported, "and would only indulge in some general observations when he did consent to speak." The diplomat spent most of the interview defending his controversial tenure in Turkey. Affirmed the reporter: "Mr. Terrell acknowledged he had tried to make himself persona grata with the Sultan, but he insisted that he always had the good of the country in mind. He appeared to think the judgment against him was of the snap-shot order."
Naturally, the reporter brought up the subject of Lenz.
Mr. Terrell said the case had given him a great deal of trouble and he had worked hard and long to find the young man and something about his fate. Lenz, he thought, had really acted in a foolhardy manner in insisting upon entering that part of the country. Mr. Terrell was satisfied the young man had met his death for the money he had. Lenz had shown his money too freely, and the Kurds spotted him and made short work of him when he resisted them.
About a week later, Sachtleben arrived in Pittsburgh, where he stayed at Langhans's home. The old city hall, the Press reported, was lavishly decorated with flags and flowers in preparation for his lecture, billed as "The Search for the Missing Wheelman." When he took the stage, the overflowing crowd erupted in cheers. Langhans immediately stepped forward to offer the visibly moved lecturer an enormous bouquet of flowers.
The presentation would effectively mark the end of Sachtleben's mission of mercy. Like so many other aspects of the sad affair, however, the result was largely disappointing. Commented the Press:
Several hundred riders, mostly old friends of the lost wheelman, turned out to hear Sachtleben. The Press had announced the lecture in good faith, believing that it would be an interesting account of his perilous journey to find the remains of the missing Pittsburger, with details of the murderers. But that was not what was given last night. The subject was simply the Armenian massacres. Sachtleben referred briefly to Lenz once or twice, and showed one stereopticon view of Lenz in China. But there was no description of the search, of which Pittsburgers are so deeply interested. The crowd that left the hall about 10 o'clock was sadly disappointed.
In fact, Sachtleben was eager to put the Lenz case, as well as the stigma of failure, behind him. He passionately believed he had a new and vital mission to perform: to inform the American public about Turkish atrocities and the plight of the Armenians and to insist that the United States and the European powers force the sultan to enact at once far-reaching reforms. From that time forward, he intended to address the situation in Armenia, making only tangential references to the lost cyclist.
Sachtleben's lecture at Alton's Temple Theater a few weeks later drew another large and enthusiastic crowd. Projecting his photographs on a canvas, he described the region and its customs. He claimed that Armenian "thrift, abhorrence of bloodshed, and submissiveness" had left them vulnerable to Turkish wrath. The local newspapers gave the lecture rave reviews. Wrote one critic: "His vivid picturing of the recent atrocities almost transferred one to the scenes and the horrors." Echoed another: "Portions of the lecture were thrilling, especially the scenes thrown on the canvas of the dead and the dying." Mihran gave a stirring conclusion as he stood up in native garb and sang a soulful Armenian wail.
Once again, Sachtleben only briefly alluded to Lenz, showing a map of the route he had followed in Turkey in search of the missing wheelman. He projected the photograph he had taken of the barren spot near the Hopuz River where he believed Lenz had been killed. He noted that the body had not been found and suggested that it never would be. He speculated that Lenz's bones were resting at the bottom of the river into which his mutilated body had been thrown.
Though Sachtleben tried valiantly to distance himself from Lenz, the two were by now inextricably linked in the public consciousness. Wherever he went, Sachtleben was pelted with questions about the missing Pittsburgher. In his own serialized accounts of his adventures in Turkey, published in various newspapers, Sachtleben repeatedly eulogized the kindred spirit he had never actually met:
No one will ever realize his terrible sufferings, his narrow escapes, his sensations while he lay ill with fever i
n a strange land among barbarous and hostile people without medicines or doctor. The critical moment of danger, when intense excitement sometimes carries a man through an ordeal despite himself, are as nothing compared to the daily endurance of the menace in stealthy forms.
I sympathized deeply with the mother in her bereavement of her only son, a young man full of promise, just entering upon a career that bade fair to be one of exceptional usefulness, called in the spring of life to his eternal rest. Friends he had many, who mourn with me the loss of a true comrade. It seems the very irony of fate to snatch away at an unexpected moment the fruits of a difficult undertaking, the accomplishment of which would have brought him much honor. Few voluntarily set before themselves so arduous a task, especially when they have an easy pathway to wealth and influence at home. But that is the true American spirit, the spirit of the pioneers of our great republic, and its results have made our nation famous the world over.
Robert Bruce, the man Sachtleben replaced, likewise paid tribute to his erstwhile travel companion. In Bicycling World, he shared a moving vision of Lenz approaching Constantinople, where the two men were supposed to have reunited:
For months now my "other self" has stood morning and evening upon the European shore of the Bosporus, commanding the best attainable view of the highlands of Asia Minor, with eyes ever strained to catch a glimpse of a ghostly rider, mounted upon a wheel of now antiquated pattern, loaded like a pack horse—a phantom cycler whose spirit is as yet unbroken, upon whose face there is no trace of fear or hatred or revenge, but only a look of mingled kindness and determination. Illuminating the whole countenance is a cheerful half-smile, born of the consciousness that each revolution of the faithful old wheel brings him nearer to the misty ocean that alone lies between the old world and his home in the new.