The way in which Stieber, as body-servant to Jules Favre, was able to assist in the negotiations for the surrender of Paris in 1870 has already been detailed, and this forms a fair sample of what can be done in the way of diplomatic espionage, as distinctly apart from the gaining of purely military information or details of a definite naval character. But it is only one instance; the spy in the employ of the German Foreign Office is capable of making himself useful in many ways, and into this class of work also the influence of women enters to a very large extent.
The woman spy of fiction, though not absolutely a myth, is very rare indeed. The siren of beauty and wit, mysterious as she is fascinating, makes a very pretty picture for a sensational melodrama; but it must be fairly obvious, on reflection, that she would defeat her own ends by the very mystery that is popularly supposed to surround her. Further, diplomats entrusted with confidential and delicate tasks are hard-headed men of the world, capable of seeing through the wiles of such dames of mystery as the fiction-writer would have us believe in, existing in the highest society and able to subjugate a man by a glance. A story has recently been told to the effect that one of these charming adventuresses was able to spoil the work of no less a person than a Russian Ambassador, the said Ambassador being a man of mature years and such judgment as one would expect in the holder of the power that he represented. The spy alleged that the lady in question was able by her charms to throw the Ambassador entirely off his guard, so that his mission was spoiled and he incurred imperial displeasure and lost his post.
It is a pretty story, and would pass well as an effort of imagination; the only trouble is that the alleged confessions of the spy include this pretty story as truth, which it most distinctly is not. The affairs of nations are not conducted in such a manner as this, for there is sufficient wisdom in the various Courts of Europe to recognise the existence of all dangers, and to impose on their representatives such safeguards as shall neutralise the attempts that may be made at spoiling treaties and sowing discord by means of pretty women and susceptible men. The reason for the telling of such stories lies in their being extremely plausible, extremely attractive, and extremely saleable.
Real diplomatic spying is a much more sordid and much meaner business than the fiction-writer places before his or her readers. It consists in listening at doors, reading and replacing letters, and tricks of the kind which would be perfectly obvious if the person spying were not so thoroughly trustworthy—to outside appearance. The diplomatic spy may be a servant, a military attaché, a courier in the ostensible service of a Government—he may be anything, but always he is a supremely trustworthy person, one who has no need to conceal the fact that he is highly intelligent and well fitted for his post, whatever that may be. His reputation among the people with whom he is brought in contact may be and usually is a matter of years’ standing, for only the absolute assurance of his honesty enables him to carry on his work.
It is the recognised duty of all ambassadors, military and naval attachés, and consuls, to collect information in any possible way, and to pay for it, and it may be guessed that their staff of informers is a large one. Further, under the heading of diplomatic spies must be included the internal espionage of Germany, by means of which all the various members of the Royal Family at Berlin are kept under surveillance and reported on. Potsdam neglects nothing in this way, as the Memoirs of Louise of Saxony prove beyond dispute.
Some time ago the head official of the system of internal espionage in Germany was exposed at the height of his success, and thus an idea of the actual working and extent of the system was rendered obtainable. The person in question, Colonel Baron von Tausch, established on his own account a bureau d’espionage, and carried his investigations to such a point that the Minister of Foreign Affairs, after having made representations to the Kaiser, took action against Von Tausch for libel and conspiracy.
From evidence made public at the trial it appeared that Von Tausch, who wished to obtain information for his master with regard to the nationalist movement in Prussian Poland, had ordered Baron von Luetzow to win the affections of the daughter of a Polish noble who was in the front of the nationalist movement, and, by this means, to gain the confidence of the girl’s father. Luetzow complied, won the heart of the girl and the confidence of her father, and then returned to Berlin, leaving the girl behind. This was one instance of the methods used to obtain information.
Correspondence, produced in court, introduced into the case the name of Count Philip zu Eulenberg, sometime German Ambassador at Vienna. Eulenberg, one of the boy-friends of the Kaiser, developed into a moral degenerate, and the whole of the Berlin Court—at least, all that part of it which had the best interests of the Kaiser and the Empire at heart—deplored the retention of Eulenberg in the imperial favour. In 1907 Eulenberg’s degeneracy was exposed by Maximilian Harden, editor of Die Zukunft, who was prosecuted for his audacity in attacking one of the Emperor’s friends, and forced the prosecution to withdraw by stating that he had enough correspondence in his possession to ruin the reputations of members of the Imperial family and half the officers of the Imperial Guards.
The correspondence produced at Von Tausch’s trial was chiefly noteworthy for a letter addressed by the chief of the secret police to Eulenberg, in which the former claimed that he had successfully accomplished espionage work which, he hoped, would have the effect of mining the Foreign Minister for good. Shortly after, as evidence showed, Eulenberg sent to Von Tausch the ribbon of a high Austrian Order which had been presented by the Austrian Government, evidently as recognition of services performed in connection with the German Foreign Minister.
Numerous scandals were brought to light, all proving that no trick or subterfuge had been too low for Von Tausch’s stooping. It was shown, for instance, that Prince Egon Hohenlohe, as bad a character as Eulenberg, had conceived a dislike for one of the chamberlains employed in the establishment of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. He therefore set Von Tausch to work at ferreting out this man’s humble antecedents, which were then published anonymously in various German papers. The result was a public scandal, and the unfortunate man had to resign his post in consequence.