Lofthouse Park Camp: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor…and possibly a few gentlemen spies?

Lofthouse Park Camp: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor…and possibly a few gentlemen spies?

 by David Stowe


Pleasure, Privilege, Privations. Lofthouse Park Near Wakefield, 1908-1922 was published in April 2018. It comprises 25 chapters, written by 15 authors drawn from British and German academics, independent scholars, and social and family historians. Some of the themes dealt with include the origins of Lofthouse Park as a theme or amusement park, an overview of its role as a civilian internment camp from 1914 to 1918, and the transition from civilian to military prisoner of war camp which took place in October 1918. The book also includes a number of appendices, with several lists amounting to around five hundred civilian and military prisoners who had been interned at Lofthouse Park between October 1914 and 1920.

This article is based on new research which could not be included in the book at the time of publication. In addition to this, the article draws on a number of sources which includes the identification of more than two hundred civilian and military personnel who had been interned at the camp between October 1914 and 1920 – bringing the total number of civilian and military prisoners now known by name to have been interned at Lofthouse Park to around 750. Among these numbers were some who were suspected of posing a threat to the nation if released. Some of the sources used in researching this article may be found in the International Committee for the Red Cross (ICRC) database, the Manx National Heritage iMuseum website, and official correspondence relating to German civilian prisoners and their fitness for release.

The three main themes dealt with in this article are thus: civilian internees, military prisoners of war, and suspected enemy agents. A list of the names from which much of the following analysis is taken will be published at a later date.

Civilian Internees

There are more than one hundred names listed on the Manx iMuseum website of men interned at Knockaloe Camp on 11 October 1918. Among the civilians transferred to the Isle of Man when Lofthouse Park closed in October 1918 were Simon Broders (Brod), Hans Georg von Chorus, Karl Johann Dyckerhoff, Johann Georg Griese, Adolf Karl Alexander Korner, and Franciscus Antonius Swinkels.2 According to additional material found in the ICRC database, Johann Griese was interned at Lofthouse Park in May 1915, and Adolf Korner had spent some time at Queensferry, Scotland, before being transferred to Lofthouse Park the same year. The registration details for Hans von Chorus show that he moved between Germany and the United States before the war, with his address given as Berlin and 634 Fifth Avenue, New York.3

Military Prisoners

The ICRC database has proved especially useful where a further two hundred names of the German armed forces have been found which might be linked to Lofthouse Park. The information contained in the documents includes name, rank, unit, place of capture, pre-war occupation and profession in many cases, and in the case of captured naval forces, the name and class of vessel or ship. Among those who had surrendered or found themselves captured on battlefields such as Cambrai, Le Cateau and Montbrehain were Hauptmann Hans Schmidt of 401 Infantry Regiment, who was a Professor of Theology in civilian life, Hans Peter von Briessen whose profession was Magistrats-Sekretär, and Rafael Urban, a student of philosophy, born in 1893.4 Many of the men listed in the documents were officers who were captured in the last stages of the war and would have been among the first of the military prisoners to arrive at Lofthouse Park after the camp had been cleared of civilian internees in October 1918.5

A summary of the places of capture, occupations and professions, and pennant numbers or ships based on the additional list of military prisoners held at Lofthouse Park in 1918 may be found below.

German Military: Place of Capture



La Cateau














Source: ICRC Database. ANGL 27121-27125, 27220-27223, 28370-28372, 29431-29432, 29616.

German Military: Occupations and Professions


Bank Clerk



Archaeology Student



Theology Student


Chemistry Student

Medical Student

University Assistant



Trainee Lawyer

Customs Officer

Source: ICRC Database. ANGL 27121-27125, 27220-27223, 28370-28372, 29431-29432, 29616.

German Navy

T-Boot ‘G-38’

T-Boot ‘G-39’

T-Boot ‘G-91’

T-Boot ‘G-92’





T-Boot ‘S-32’

T-Boot ‘S-36’

T-Boot ‘S-49’

T-Boot ‘S-53’

T-Boot ‘S-60’

T-Boot ‘S-131’

T-Boot ‘S-132’

T-Boot ‘S-137’

T-Boot ‘V-43’

T-Boot ‘V-46’

T-Boot ‘V-70’

T-Boot ‘V-82’

T-Boot ‘V-83’

T-Boot ‘V-126’

T-Boot ‘V-127’

T-Boot ‘V-129’

Source: ICRC Database. ANGL 40048-40049. See also Kreuzer ‘Brummer’ and T-Boot ‘S-138’.

German and Austrian Agents

Although stories of enemy agents and ‘spy fever’ were pretty much prevalent before the war, it was not uncommon to read reports in the local and national press of those who had been arrested and charged with espionage shortly after the war started. Karl Stubenvoll, who was in fact an Austrian, was a naval architect who had been recently employed by Messrs Swan Hunter and Wigham, Richardson and Company at Wallsend when he was charged at Newcastle in August 1914 with ‘unlawfully, for purposes prejudicial to the safety and interests of the State, obtained certain plans, notes, and other documents which were calculated, and might be directly or indirectly useful to the enemy.’6 Stubenvoll was charged under the Official Secrets Act. He was 27 years of age at the time of his arrest. After several court appearances and being further remanded in custody he was eventually sent to Lofthouse Park in May 1915.7 In January 1916 representation had been made by the American Embassy on behalf of the Austrian Government for the release of Stubenvoll on the grounds that his relatives had claimed he had a defective heart and was not fit for military service.8 The request was denied.

Stubenvoll’s age is important as it meant that he was still considered eligible for military service. This applied to men up to the age of 45. It also allowed for the continued detention of some civilians over the age of 45 whose services might be of special value to the enemy if released. The desirability or otherwise of exchanging certain categories of civilian internees was outlined in a document which was sent from the Director of Special Intelligence to the Under-Secretary of State for War in December 1917.9 The emphasis in this instance was the potential threat posed by a number of German-born internees if released or exchanged and returned to Germany. Thirty-two names are included in the document, covering five different groups or categories under the heading ‘1. Exchange with Germany of Civilian Prisoners over 45’.

Group I. Germans Specially Qualified For Consideration For The First Twenty

Group II. Germans Next Qualified For Consideration If The Number Is Increased To 24

Group III. Germans Also Qualified For Consideration10

Group IV. Germans In Dominions And Colonies

Group V. Germans Qualified But Not Retained

The conditions governing the detention of the civilian internees in Group I were laid down in Clause (iii) in which ‘both parties shall be free on military grounds, up to the number of 20 persons who would otherwise be repatriated.’11 Copies were forwarded to the Admiralty, Colonial Office, Foreign Office, Home Office, Ministry of Munitions, and War Office.

 There are at least six men mentioned in the documents with links to Lofthouse Park, with four government agencies involved in the recommendation that each of the men be detained rather than released or exchanged. The detention in the cases of Charles Rudolf Altenheim (46), Baron Louis Anton von Horst (54), and Quirin Hubert August Maria Wirtz (54), of Great Ormond Street, London, was recommended by M.I.5 in so far that each man had expertise in areas of research which might be valuable to Germany. Charles Altenheim was a colliery engineer and Managing Director of Kopper’s Coke Oven and By-Product Company in Sheffield. He was also said to be a chemist. Quirin Wirtz was a chemist and thought to have been an authority on explosives, dyes and paper. Edwin Cuno Kayser (53), Carl Koettgen (45), and Erich von Wedel (51), whose address is given as Bournemouth, are also mentioned in the document, with recommendations that each man be detained. 12   

Perhaps the man considered the most dangerous of the six was Baron Louis Anton von Horst, whom M.I.5 suspected of trying to stir up trouble in Ireland and strongly believed to be a German agent of high importance. Von Horst had been trading as Horst Company, at 26 Denman Street, London, before the war and was undergoing treatment in the German Hospital at Dalston at the time the report was compiled in 1917.13 He seems to have been there some time, having been transferred to Dalston from Lofthouse Park in April 1915, where he had spent two days before being admitted to hospital after first exhibiting symptoms of a ‘nervous breakdown’ when he was interned on the Royal Edward.14 Horst also had connections to Lillian Scott Troy, who was under surveillance by Special Branch for her involvement in Irish nationalism and women’s suffrage. Both von Horst and Troy were deported after the war.15


Lofthouse Park closed its gates in March 1920. Its fixtures and fittings were sold under public auction shortly after. The only building which remained was the Pavilion, which had been a familiar landmark since Lofthouse Park’s former glory days as an amusement park before the war. Its grounds lay desolate for a couple of years until consumed by fire in April 1922. During its time as an internment camp more than 1,500 civilians had passed through its large wooden gate on the main Leeds to Wakefield road. Many of the civilians would spend their war in one of the three compounds on the 12.5 acre site. Some would die or end their lives there. The changes which took place in October 1918 – and what was essentially the change from one form of incarceration to another – is also a timely reminder that detainment is still an all too often grim reality for those who find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time a century later.


  1. Claudia Sternberg and David Stowe (eds.). Pleasure, Privilege, Privations: Lofthouse Park near Wakefield, 1908-1922. Leeds: In the Wrong Place at The Wrong Time, 2018.
  2. Manx National Heritage iMuseum. Knockaloe Camp. 11 October 1918. See Sternberg and Stowe (eds.), Appendix 1, pp. 278-280, for the order issued to evacuate Lofthouse Park Camp in October 1918. This is also covered in Oliver Wilkinson’s chapter at Ref. 5 below.
  3. ICRC Database. Hans Georg von Chorus. D-LXXVII-1. The date of internment on his index card is given as 4 March 1916.
  4. See ICRC Database – with thanks also to Claudia Sternberg for translation of German professions and occupations.
  5. Oliver Wilkinson, ‘Lofthouse Park Prisoner of War Camp, 1918-1919,’ in Sternberg and Stowe (eds.), Pleasure, Privilege, Privations, pp. 182-188.
  6. Shields Daily News, 21 August 1914, p. 3; Yorkshire Post, 29 August 1914, p. 9.
  7. ICRC index card. Karl Stubenvoll.
  8. The National Archives FO 383/114 (1916) ‘Karl Stubenvoll, detained at Wakefield’.
  9. ‘Exchange with Germany of Civilian Prisoners over 45.’ Prisoners of War Dominions (1917). Vol. 5. pp. 445-451. This document has been digitised and can be found on Find My Past. I would like to thank Dr Anne C. Brook for her generosity and drawing my attention to this document (Ref. CO 693/5). Thanks also for additional information recently received on Erich von Wedel. Please see below.
  10. Ibid. Group III. Wedel, Erich von, aged 51. ‘Possibly a Reserve Officer. If so, can be retained as a military prisoner. If he is not, there is no reason to detain him.’
  11. See ‘Exchange with Germany of Civilian Prisoners over 45’.
  12. Ibid. Koettgen, of Bromley, was a Manager at the Siemens Works.
  13. Ibid.
  14. Ruth Allison, ‘Gregory Sinclair Haines: Prison Reformer and Commandant of Lofthouse Park’, In. Claudia Sternberg and David Stowe (eds), Pleasure, Privilege, Privations, p. 177.
  15. Ibid. See Allison, pp. 176-77, on the relationship between von Horst, Troy and Commandant Gregory Sinclair Haines, and accusations of blackmail against Haines and his business partner by Lillian Scott Troy.

Detective Ernest Edgar Dalton: Leeds Alien Registration

Wakefield - Dalton

Detective Ernest Edgar Dalton was one of the main officers in charge of alien registration at Leeds in 1914. His career with the Leeds City Police Force spanned more than twenty-five years. Dalton had joined as a constable in 1901, attaining the rank of Superintendent before retiring in 1927.1

During his time as a police officer Ernest Dalton had spent seven years as a Court Officer, having previously served in the Chief Clerk’s Office and on street duty. He was promoted to Detective Sergeant in 1907.2 He had stood for the prospective parliamentary candidate for the Park Division of Sheffield after his retirement, and had unsuccessfully contested the seat at Hull South-West as a Liberal candidate in the 1945-46 elections.3 Dalton had been also active as a business manager of the Leeds Art Theatre in the late 1920s.

The son of a former Deputy Chief Constable, Ernest Edgar Dalton had served in the Army Medical Corps during the South African War. He was living at Woodbine Cottage, Leeds, at the time of his death in 1947. Dalton had collapsed while waiting for a train to Manchester at Leeds Station. He was 68 years of age. He was survived by a daughter. His son had served as a Flight Lieutenant in the Royal Air Force during the Second World War.4

  1. Yorkshire Post, 25 June 1927, p. 15.
  2. Ibid; Yorkshire Evening Post, 16 August 1907, p. 6.
  3. Yorkshire Evening Post, 3 November 1947, p. 5.
  4. Ibid.

Image: Yorkshire Evening Post, 3 November 1947, p. 5

David Stowe, May 2018


Detective Ernest Edgar Dalton: Leeds Alien Registration

1914: Das Ende deutsch-britischer Freizügigkeit und die Folgen

by Claudia Sternberg

Based on an article first published in Gemeindebrief of Deutsche Kirche in Nordengland & East Midlands (March-May 2018).

Image 1_LofthousePark_MaxSchnoes

Water colour drawing of  WWI internment camp Lofthouse Park near Wakefield by internee and Franconian painter Max Schnös, 1915 (Bechtel Family Archive).

Offene Grenzen und Mobilität, Unternehmens- und Geschäftsbeziehungen, Bildungs- und Kulturaustausch, gemischte Familien und Mehrsprachigkeit – all dies sind keine Phänomene der Integration Europas nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg und der Öffnung des Eisernen Vorhangs. Bereits im 19. und frühen 20. Jahrhundert kamen viele Deutsche nach Großbritannien, wobei nicht nur die Metropole London, sondern auch der wirtschaftlich florierende Norden Englands für die Migranten attraktiv war. Professoren und Schweinemetzger, Friseure und Musiker, Ingenieure und Kellner, Hauspersonal und Händler ließen sich mit ihren Familien nieder oder gründeten einen neuen Hausstand; nachfolgende Generationen wuchsen heran.

Es war der Erste Weltkrieg, der diese Normalität beendete. Eingebürgerte Einwanderer und ihre Nachfahren bekamen das deutschfeindliche Klima im Alltag zu spüren. Einige zogen sich zurück oder beteuerten öffentlich ihre Loyalität; andere erlebten Übergriffe auf ihr Hab und Gut. Für nicht Naturalisierte war die Situation noch schwieriger: Männer wehrpflichtigen Alters wurden als sogenannte enemy aliens (Feindstaatenausländer) registriert und unterlagen Mobilitäts­beschrän­kungen. Es folgte schließlich die Internierung und in einigen Fällen die Repatriierung von Familienangehörigen. Von den Kriegsregelungen betroffen waren auch britische Frauen deutscher Internierter, die nach geltendem Recht die Nationalität der Ehemanns angenommen hatten. Zu den Lagern für deutsche, österreichisch-ungarische und türkische Zivilisten gehörten u.a. Knockaloe und Douglas auf der Isle of Man, Stobs in Schottland, Handforth in Cheshire, Stratford und Alexandra Palace in London, aber auch Ahmednagar in Indien oder Fort Napier in Südafrika. Nach Kriegsende wurden die in Großbritannien internierten Deutschen in großer Zahl ausgewiesen, wobei jedoch einige der Männer im Laufe der 1920er Jahre wieder zurückkehrten.Obwohl damals – wie heute – mehr Deutsche in Großbritannien ansässig waren als umgekehrt, hatte auch das deutsche Kaiserreich angesichts des Kriegsgeschehens und zunehmender Ressentiments angeordnet, potentiell kriegstaugliche ‚feindliche Ausländer‘ dauerhaft festzusetzen. Für sich in Deutschland befindliche Männer mit britischer Staatsangehörigkeit – ob ‘deutschgesinnt’, freundschaftlich, familiär oder geschäftlich verbunden oder nur auf der Durchreise – wurde die Trabrennbahn Ruhleben bei Spandau zum zentralen Internierungslager umfunktioniert.

Die Ereignisse verdeutlichen, wie in Kriegs- und Konfliktzeiten ein gesellschaftliches Miteinander durch Wort und Tat in ‘Eigenes’ und ‘Fremdes’ auseinanderdividiert wurde und welche Folgen dies hatte. Öffentlicher, rechtlicher und politischer Wille verhindern im Europa von heute derartige Zuspitzungen. Dennoch geben in der Debatte um Brexit der beiläufige Umgang mit Begriffen wie war und enemy und die Rückkehr von Vokabeln wie registration oder deportation Anlass, sich dieser gemeinsamen Vergangenheit zu erinnern.

In dem von der University of Leeds initiierten deutsch-britischen Gemeinschaftsprojekt Am falschen Ort zur falschen Zeit wurde die Geschichte eines vergessenen Internierungslagers in Yorkshire aufgearbeitet. Hierzu wird am 28. April 2018 um 11 Uhr in der Wakefield Library die Ausstellung Pleasure, Privilege, Privations: Lofthouse Park near Wakefield, 1908-1922 eröffnet (Wakefield One, Burton Street, Wakefield, WF1 2DD). Teil des Programms ist zudem eine Visualisierung von Family Narratives of Being German in Yorkshire, die auf Gesprächen mit Familien von heute und Nachkommen deutscher Einwanderer basiert. Das Engländerlager Ruhleben steht im Mittelpunkt der Ausstellung Nachbarn hinter Stacheldraht, die ab dem 3. Mai 2018 im Stadtgeschichtlichen Museum Spandau in der Spandauer Zitadelle zu sehen sein wird.


Collage ‘Family Narrative of Being German in Yorkshire’ by Louise Atkinson, 2018.

Searching for Paul Cohen-Portheim’s Grave

A guest post by Beth Arscott and Alix Nicolas

The year: 1932, the place: Paris. A well-known German author dies in a little-known corner of the city, Rue Rémy de Gourmont. 70 years later, and Paul Cohen-Portheim has faded into such obscurity that the circumstances of his death and even his final resting place are shrouded in mystery.

Although little is known about his death, he was well documented in life. Born in Germany to Jewish parents, Cohen-Portheim spent his life travelling for artistic and literary inspiration, and was described as ‘the first citizen of Western Europe’ in the obituary in the Observer of 16 October 1932.

His writings included an autobiographical memoir about his internment in British camps during the First World War and travel books about some of his most loved haunts, London and Paris. Fittingly, the cosmopolitan Cohen-Portheim died in Paris while away from a registered home in England after falling ill during his travels in Spain and Portugal. He died on the 6 October 1932 at the age of 53.

Paul Cohen-Portheim

Paul Heinrich Cohen, who would later go by Paul Cohen-Portheim, was born in Berlin on 22 March 1879 to Jewish parents, Ernst and Jenny Cohen (née Porges von Portheim). Little is known of Ernst Cohen, but Jenny was a descendent of a large German manufacturing family, of minor noble status. Paul had an older sister, Helene Henriette (*1876), and a younger brother, Otto Heinrich (*1883).

The young Cohen-Portheim worked as a painter and travelled through Europe for inspiration, including to England. It was during one of his stays in the country that the First World War broke out, and he was arrested and imprisoned as an “enemy alien” at Knockaloe on the Isle of Man and in Lofthouse Park internment camp.

Following his release in 1918, Cohen-Portheim began his career as a published writer. Among others, he wrote a book about his experiences as an internee during the war, entitled Time Stood Still: My Internment in England 1914-1918 (1931). His years of confinement did not dampen his enthusiasm for the country; he was familiar with England and the English way of life and wrote two books on the subject in German which were subsequently translated: England: The Unknown Isle (1930) and The Spirit of London (1935). Indeed, Cohen-Portheim’s Anglophile interests were reflected in his personal life; at the time of his death, 19 Guilford Street in London was listed as his residence on the death certificate.

Finding Paul

With the help of Corinna Meiß of Woerteragentur we could start our research with basic family information about Paul Cohen-Portheim: the names of his parents and siblings and the date of his birth.

Using the genealogy website Ancestry, we found Cohen-Portheim’s death certificate. As he died in Paris, this was written in French and certified by the local mayor’s office. The death certificate contained the following information:

Name: Paul Cohen
Date of Death: 4th October 1932, 11pm
Place of Death: 18 Rue Rémy de Gourmont, 19th Arrondissement
Address: 19 Guilford Street London, England
Date of Birth: 22nd March 1879
Place of Birth: Berlin, Germany
Parents: Ernest Cohen and Jennie Cohen, both deceased
Marital Status: Single
Written: 6th October 1932

On this death certificate, he was listed as Paul Cohen, but we were confident that it was the correct document due to the matching names of his parents and date of his birth. Oddly, however, the certificate describes him as a voyageur de commerce (travelling salesman), which does not fit with what we know of his professional life as an author and translator. This led us to speculate that Cohen-Portheim might have died surrounded by unfamiliar people who had to make certain assumptions about his life.

Obituaries for Cohen-Portheim were published in several British newspapers. The Observer detailed the circumstances of his death, stating that he

‘fell desperately ill, with fever and complications, in Portugal. For some days he lay in a Portuguese hospital unable to move and surrounded by people who, as he wrote later, either couldn’t or wouldn’t understand a word he said. He was moved to Paris, a journey of two days and two nights, with a peasant to lift him in and out of trains at the five changes. It soon became clear to his doctors that there was no hope of his recovery and death came to him mercifully.’

The extent to which this information was reliable is questionable. And neither this obituary, nor others found in the Yorkshire Post or Evening Telegraph, gave details of his funeral arrangements or burial. This meant that there remained several places where Cohen-Portheim could have been buried.

At the time of his death he had a residence in London, but before his internment in 1914, he had had an apartment in Paris, and it was to that city which he returned as his health failed during his Iberian travels. In the inter-war years he spent time in Berlin, where he had family and where his German publishers were located. Furthermore, members of his family are buried as far afield as Vienna and Prague.

As Cohen-Portheim was unmarried, we thought it possible that he could have been buried with his parents. As a result, we searched civic death registers, city archives and Jewish memorials for traces of both him and his parents. We were unsuccessful at first, but by chance we came across a family history website dedicated to the Porges von Portheim family, through which we discovered the sisters of Paul Cohen-Portheim’s mother. One of her sisters, Clara, married Philip Goldschmidt, and the two are buried together in the Jewish part of the Central Cemetery in Vienna. More family members are buried in Prague. This opens up two further possibilities for Paul Cohen-Portheim’s burial place.

Join us in our search!

We are trying to locate Paul Cohen-Portheim’s grave or records of his burial. The most likely location would be Paris, but London, Berlin and Vienna are further possibilities. Both Jewish and secular cemeteries could be considered.

Cohen-Portheim died in 1932, mere months before Adolf Hitler rose to power in Germany. During Nazism and the Holocaust, members of Cohen-Portheim’s family were persecuted and murdered. This may have resulted in the destruction of family records and documents.

Things to remember:
Paul Cohen-Portheim may be listed simply as Paul Cohen on official documents.

Questions that remain unanswered:
Where was Paul Cohen-Portheim buried?
Was he buried under the name Paul Cohen or Paul Cohen-Portheim?
What did he die of and what were the circumstances of his death?
Have any personal documents or family archives survived?

We would like to hear from if you have any further information.

Study visit to Yorkshire: Berlin pupils on Ruhleben (Part I)


Project partner school in Berlin

For English text scroll down.

Schüler des Carl-Friedrich-von-Siemens-Gymnasiums in Berlin beschäftigen sich in einem Seminarkurs mit dem Thema Erster Weltkrieg und der Internierung von Zivilisten im ehemaligen Engländerlager Ruhleben. Das Lager lag nicht weit von der Schule entfernt und bildet daher einen Schwerpunkt der lokalgeschichtlichen Forschung. Continue reading

Heritage Open Day in Lofthouse, 11 September 2016

Ein Blog-Beitrag von Eva Göbel (17 September 2016)


Vergessene Geschichte(n): Heritage Open Day in Lofthouse (Foto: Eva Göbel)

Vor Ort erinnert nichts mehr an die wechselhafte Geschichte von Lofthouse Park vor einhundert Jahren: weder an den Freizeitpark, der zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhunderts zur Belebung des Straßenbahngeschäftes angelegt wurde, noch an das Internierungslager für feindliche Ausländer im Ersten Weltkrieg. Lediglich einige Straßennamen knüpfen an die Vergangenheit an.

Vielleicht kamen gerade deshalb so viele Menschen am 11. September 2016 in den Lofthouse Gate Working Men’s Club im Norden Wakefields Continue reading

Lofthouse Park Case Study 2: Otto Froitzheim and Oscar Kreuzer, Tennis Champions

Otto Froitzheim and Oscar Kreuzer were two championship tennis players who had represented the German team against the Australians in the Davis Cup just before the war. They had been playing in the United States at the time, having been beaten by Anthony Wilding and Norman Brookes in one of the preliminary stages of the Davis Cup. News of their internment was reported in January 1916, when a letter sent to Miss Clare Cassell from Otto Froitzheim was published in The Pittsburg Press telling readers of the circumstances surrounding Froitzheim and Kreuzer’s detention in 1914. Continue reading