Everyone recalls the Count von Luxburg, German Minister to Argentina, and his famous "spurlos versenkt" dispatch advising his Government that Argentine steamers, if not spared by the U-boats, be sunk without leaving a trace. But there is one incident in connection with that worthy which may, even yet, be news to the Teutons.
One of the speakers at the last big banquet by the Germans in Buenos Aires, over which Luxburg presided—one of the orators they applauded vociferously and patted on the back as the cries of "Hoch der Kaiser!" rang round the festive board, was an agent of the United States Government. And thereby hangs a tale.
When this country broke relations with Germany, German activities in South America were redoubled. The large German population in Brazil not only planned to keep that country from joining the Allies, but talked boldly of "uprisings," and joining in action with the Germans in neighbor countries. We needed to find out more about Teuton activities in that region. An American of varied accomplishments, who spoke Portuguese and Spanish, as well as German, offered his services to the Navy. He had spent years in Germany, and though of a Colonial American family, was a doctor of philosophy of Leipzig University, and intimately acquainted with German conditions and German character. He had volunteered to act as a secret agent, in which capacity he had served the Navy in Spain itself during the Spanish War.
In February, 1917, he was accepted by Naval Intelligence, and on March 3, a month before we declared war, sailed for Brazil. He was no amateur in securing information, and he welcomed the chance of going to Brazil and Argentina, the danger to him rather adding zest to the task.
When he reached southern Brazil as a German emissary coming from Switzerland, he was taken into their clubs and councils, and told what they planned and plotted. He was with the optimistic Teuton singers as they roared out "Die Wacht am Rhein" and "Deutschland über Alles," and toasted "Der Tag"—the day when Germany would gather in its spoils in South America. He attended the secret meetings of German intriguers and learned their secrets. But, suspected at last, he was attacked by burly Teutons and emerged with a broken head and a badly hurt arm.
Departing for Argentina, he appeared there as "Dr. Ernst Brecht," bearing tidings from the Germans in Brazil, which had just declared war. He was taken into their inner circles, their plots and purposes were poured into his ears. Not once did they have the faintest suspicion that he was an American, much less a Government agent.
Members of the German legation staff conferred with him. Plotting and intriguing there, as they did in the United States, they were pretending the greatest friendship for Argentina, giving officials and people to understand that, while the U-boats might be sinking vessels of other nations without warning, Argentinian shipping was exempt. If any of its ships were sunk, it was only a regrettable mistake. And at the very time Luxburg was talking this dear friendliness, he was sending "spurlos versenkt" messages to the German Government.
"Doctor Brecht" had many adventures, but the most picturesque was the role he played in Buenos Aires. Joining at once the German "Bund," which had branches all over the Argentine, the "Doctor" formed one of the group of well-known Austrians and Germans which gathered at the famous round-table in the Bismarck restaurant.
At the annual banquet of the Deutscher Bund, the German event of the year, Count von Luxburg presided. "Herr Doctor Ernst Brecht" was called upon to speak on behalf of the Germans of Brazil. Giving a touching account of the situation of the Brazilian Teutons and their determination and devotion to the cause of the "Vaterland," he ended by quoting a bellicose poem written by a well-known German poetess who lived at Blumenau, the hotbed of Teutonism in Brazil.
He was cheered and applauded enthusiastically, and Count von Luxburg himself unbent far enough to thank the speaker for his inspiring words and express the hope that his sojourn in the hospitable Argentine would prove pleasant and profitable. It certainly did—but in a way that the Count never suspected.