Mr Houlder communicated with the Admiralty instead of with his solicitors, and in the meantime the defendant went to a firm of marine insurance agents and made a similar proposal—this time to the extent of about 13,400 pounds cash benefit to the Hamburg firm. In neither case was any application made to the authorities in England for a licence to break the law regarding trading with the enemy. The total effect of the proposals, had they been carried through, would have been to place the Hamburg company in possession of about 28,000 pounds, with no compensating advantage whatever to the British firms—and the defendant was committed for trial. He received sentence of imprisonment for his treachery on October 14, 1914, after due and proper trial.

The only point worthy of comment in connection with this case is the doubtful morality, in a business sense, of German firms. We may set aside the fact that a contravention of an enemy’s law was attempted, for no country would consider or regard the laws of a country with which it was at war, unless they involved principles of definite conduct and were the laws of civilisation rather than the laws framed for the protection of the said enemy in time of war. The point at issue is that a shipping company of Hamburg, by its offer of valueless titles in exchange for hard British cash, was attempting such a form of sharp practice as would land any British trader in the criminal courts for fraud. One is forced to the conclusion that among many Germans, and even among German firms whose standing ought to guarantee the cleanliness of their hands in business, there is no such thing as honesty, at least where dealing with a foreign firm is concerned. These people asked two London firms to break British law, and to be swindled. By German ethics, evidently, this is fair play and just dealing. It is an effect of the spy system on the moral fibre of the nation, rather than an instance of the working of the spy system itself—though the British subject who passed out from Germany at an acute point of the war between the two countries, without being questioned by German authorities, looks perilously like a spy at work, and the nature of his other missions in England, had he been left at liberty, calls for some speculation.

Much may be learned with regard to the present working of German spies by intelligent perusal of the war reports, especially those coming from France, for the Russian theatre of war is so tremendous and so far off that the small details seldom come through—the details small in themselves, but of far-reaching import. As an instance may be again mentioned the way in which German troops, occupying a town, chalk on certain doors “Spare this house”—there is a world of enlightenment in the three words. Similarly, in advance and retreat the Germans have their agents with them or near them, and often the report makes tacit admission of the fact, in such a way that it is clear to one who reads with the espionage system in mind. The work of these agents is as endless as it is dishonourable and deadly—a poison that works just as efficiently as the legitimate weapons of war—and often more efficiently, since one can guard against an open weapon, but against the treachery that uses naturalisation and all things to further the ends of the monster trampling across the earth, there is no guard that soldiers can use as they use their weapons against troops opposed to them.

The bibliography of espionage—German espionage—is a brief one, so far as books of value are concerned. First and foremost stand Stieber’s Memoirs, which tell all that Stieber chose to tell—and that is a good deal. The work has been translated into French, but not into English. There is the “Indiscretions” of Wollheim, a book which gives some idea of the system, but is mainly concerned with incident. The Memoirs of Busch, Bismarck’s friend, afford further light on the system, but only in a fragmentary way. “Military Espionage in Peace and War,” by W.N. Klembovski, a Russian Staff Officer, is more a manual of what ought to be done by purely military spies than a book descriptive of the German system. “Espionage Militaire,” by Lieutenant Froment of the French Army, is open to the same class of criticism, as is to a certain extent “Espionage,” by N. de Chilly, though the last named is a more informative book. “The German Spy System in France,” an English translation of Paul Lanoir’s book on the subject, is a brief but well-compiled review of what Germany has accomplished in the way of espionage since 1870 in France, and although rather pessimistic in tone as regards French counter-measures, ranks as a work of value.

As a rule “confessions” of spies may be disregarded, though they make good melodramatic reading. The nature of the subject is such that those who would tell the whole cannot, and those who can will not. Bearing in mind the effect of thorough espionage on the German nation as a whole, it is to be hoped that in the near future the whole system will be swept away, together with the form of government that gave it birth and room to grow.


Chapter Thirteen.

Appendix.

Since the preceding pages were written, and as proofs are being passed for press, the following statement has been issued for publication by the Home Office with regard to British counter-espionage measures: