THE PERIL OF DELUDING THE PUBLIC
As showing the trend of public opinion regarding the spy-peril, I may perhaps be permitted to here give a few examples taken haphazard from the huge mass of correspondence with which I have been daily flooded since the publication of my exposure on that subject.
Many of my correspondents have, no doubt, made discoveries of serious cases of espionage. Yet, as spies are nobody's business, the authorities, in the majority of cases, have not even troubled to inquire into the allegations made by responsible persons. I freely admit that many wild reports have been written and circulated by hysterical persons who believe that every twinkling light they see is the flashing of signals, and that spies lurk in houses in every quiet and lonely spot. It is so very easy to become affected with spy-mania, especially when one recollects that every German abroad is patriotic, and his first object is to become a secret agent of the Fatherland. In this connection I have no more trust in the so-called "naturalised" German than in the full-blooded and openly avowed Prussian. Once a man is born a German he is always a German, and in taking out naturalisation papers he is only deliberately cheating the country which grants them, because, according to the Imperial law of his own land, he cannot change his own nationality. So let us, once and for all, dismiss for ever the hollow farce of naturalisation, for its very act is one of fraud, and only attempted with some ulterior motive.
As regards "unnaturalised" Germans the inquirer may perhaps be permitted to ask why Baron von Ow-Wachendorf, a lieutenant in the Yellow Uhlans of Stuttgart, just under thirty years of age, was permitted to practise running in Hyde Park so as to fit himself for his military duties, and why was he on March 1st allowed to leave Tilbury for Holland to fight against us? Again, has not Mr. Ronald McNeill put rather a delicate problem before the Under-Secretary for War in asking, in the House, whether Count Ergon von Bassewitz and his brother, Count Adalbert von Bassewitz, were brought to England as prisoners of war; whether either was formerly on the Staff of the Germany Embassy in London, and well known in London Society; whether one, and which, of the two brothers was recently set at liberty, and is now at large in London; whether he was released on any and what conditions; and for what reason this German officer, possessing exceptional opportunities for obtaining information likely to be useful to the enemy, is allowed freedom in England at the present time.
The man-in-the-street who has, in the past, laughed at the very idea of spies—and quite justly, because he has been so cleverly misled and bamboozled by official assurances—has now begun to see that they do exist. He has read of a hundred cases abroad where spies have formed a vanguard of the invading German armies, and how no fewer than fifty-seven German spies were arrested and convicted in Switzerland during the month of August, therefore he cannot disguise from himself that the same dastardly vanguard is already here among us. Then he at once asks, and very naturally too, why do the authorities officially protect them? What pro-German influence in high quarters can be at work to connive at our undoing? It is that which is to-day undermining public confidence. Compare our own methods with those of methodical matter-of-fact Germany? Are we methodical; are we thorough? The man-in-the-street who daily reads his newspaper—if he pauses or reflects—sees quite plainly that instead of facing the alien peril, those in authority prefer to allow us to sit upon the edge of the volcano, and have, indeed, already actually prepared public opinion to accept a disclaimer of responsibility if disaster happens. The whole situation is truly appalling. Little wonder is it that, because I should have dared to lay bare the canker in Britain's heart, I should be written to by despairing hundreds who have lost all confidence in certain of our rulers.
Some of these letters the reader may find of interest.
From one, written by a well-known gentleman living in Devonshire, I take the following, which arouses a new reflection. He says:
"I may be wrong, but one important point seems to have been overlooked, viz. the daily publication of somewhat cryptic messages and advertisements appearing in the Personal Columns of the British Press. For instance:
"'M.—Darling. Meet as arranged. Letter perfect. Should I also write? To "the Day, and Kismet."—Vilpar.'
"Such a message may be, as doubtless it is, perfectly innocent; but what is to prevent spies in our midst utilising this method of communicating information to the enemy. The leading British newspapers are received in Germany, and even the enclosed pseudo-medical advertisement may be the message of a traitor. It seems to me that the advertisement columns of our Press constitute the safest medium for the transmission of information.
"Pray do not think I am suggesting that the British Press would willingly lend their papers to such an infernal use, but unless they are exercising the strictest precautions the loophole is there. I am somewhat impressed by the number of refugees to be found in these parts—Ilfracombe, Combe Martin, Lynton, etc., coast towns and villages of perhaps minor strategic importance, but situated on the Bristol Channel and facing important towns like Swansea, Cardiff, etc. I notice particularly that their daily walks abroad are usually taken along the coastal roads. I've never met them inland. Apologising for the length of this letter and trusting that your splendid efforts will in due time receive their well-deserved reward."
Here my correspondent has certainly touched upon a point which should be investigated. We know that secret information is daily sent from Great Britain to Berlin, and we also know some of the many methods adopted.
Indeed, I have before me, as I write, a spy's letter sent from Watford to Amsterdam, to be collected by a German agent and reforwarded to Berlin. It is written upon a column of a London daily newspaper, various letters of which are ticked in red ink in several ways, some being underlined, some crossed, some dotted underneath—a very ingenious code indeed—but one which has, happily, been decoded by an expert. This newspaper, after the message had been written upon it, had been placed in a newspaper-wrapper and addressed to an English name in Amsterdam. This is but one of the methods. Another is the use of invisible ink with which spies write their messages upon the pages of newspapers and magazines. A third is, no doubt, the publication of cryptic advertisements, as suggested by my correspondent.