"Staying recently at North Queensferry I made the acquaintance of a young German, who was there, he informed me, for quiet and health reasons. He was a man of rather taciturn and what I put down to eccentric disposition, for he spoke very little, and, from the time he went away in the morning early, he never put in an appearance until dusk. One day, as was my wont, I was sitting in the front garden when I noticed a fair-sized red morocco notebook lying on the grass. I picked it up, and on my opening it up, what was my surprise and amazement to find that it was full to overflowing with sketches and multitudinous information regarding the Firth of Forth. All the small bays, buoys, etc., together with depth of water at the various harbour entrances at high and low tide, were admirably set out. I also found, neatly folded up, a letter addressed to my friend which had contained an enclosure of money from the German Government. I hesitated no longer, for I sent notebook, etc., to the authorities at London. Three days after I had sent the letter off, a stranger called to see my friend the German. They both left together, and I have never heard any more about it since. The German's trunk still lies at North Queensferry awaiting its owner's return."
The following reached me on March 11th:
"I note what you mention regarding Weybourne in Norfolk, and would trespass on your time to relate an occurrence which took place about the autumn of 1908, when I was living at Overstrand. I had walked over to Weybourne and was about to return by train when two men, dressed more or less as tramps, entered the station to take their tickets; they were followed by a tall, handsome man, unmistakably a German officer, who spoke to them, looked at their tickets and walked straight up the platform. The men sat down on a bench to wait for the train, and I took a seat near them with a view to overhearing their conversation. It appeared to be in German dialect and little intelligible. The officer, meanwhile, who had reached the end of the platform, turned round and, quickening his steps, came and placed himself directly in front of us: the men at once were silent, and the officer remained where he was, casting many scowls in my direction. On the following day I met him, on this occasion alone, on the pathway leading from the 'Garden of Sleep' to Overstrand. He recognised me at once, scowled once again, and passed on to the Overstrand Hotel. I mentioned the subject to a gentleman resident in Overstrand, who asked me to write an account of the matter to be placed before the War Office, but I believe that my friend forgot to forward the paper. A retired officer in Cromer informed me that the German officer in question was well known as the head of the German spies in the neighbourhood. Some questions happened to be asked in the House of Commons that very week as to the existence of spies in Norfolk. The Home Secretary, the present Lord Gladstone, I think, replied to these in the manner which might be expected of him.
"From the first I recognised the fact that the men were spies. I imagined that they had been surveying, at Weybourne, but in the light of recent events I think a gun emplacement or a petrol store may have been their 'objective.' The two men were rather undersized, badly dressed, and more or less covered with mud, probably mechanics. One I remember had extraordinary teeth, about the size of the thickness of one's little finger. The officer, as I have said, was a fine man, broad and well-proportioned, from thirty to forty years of age. Oddly enough I thought that I recognised him recently on a cinematograph film depicting the staff of the German Emperor. I left the neighbourhood not long after, otherwise I should certainly have made further investigations, convinced as I was of the shady nature of these individuals. The officer, I am sure, recognised that I was a detective."
Another report is from a steward on a liner, who writes:
"At the Queen's Hotel, at Leith, one day I overheard these words from a man speaking in German. 'What's this! Your Highness's servants—when did they come North?' Now one of these I have met several times. I have travelled with him from Antwerp, and I was in his company between Leith and London. He was of a cheerful disposition, and played the violin well, but would not allow any one to go into his cabin, not even the steward! One day, while he was playing to the passengers on the promenade deck, and the sailors were washing down the poop deck, I had to go into his berth to shut his port-hole; to my surprise I found that he had been working out the draft of a plan, and was marking in the coast defence stations, and all the information he had obtained from the ship's officers and passengers. There were also various other drawings of the Forth and other bridges, and plans of the sea coast from the Firth of Forth to Yarmouth, while in his box were all kinds of mathematical instruments, together with some envelopes addressed to Count von X. [the name is given] of Bremen. He told me that he was going to London for a year's engagement at a music hall, yet, strangely enough, two weeks later I found this same German on the Carron Company's steamer Avon bound for Grangemouth. For some time I lost all trace of him, but last October I met the same German at the new Dock at Kirkcaldy, posing as a photographer. At that time the name on his bag was H. Shindler. We had a drink together, but, on my asking why he had changed his profession, he laughed mysteriously, and admitted that he had made a long tour of England and Wales, taking many interesting pictures. Each time I met him he had considerably altered his appearance, and the last I saw of him was when I saw him into the train on his way to Dunfermline."
Yet another I pick out at haphazard. It is from an actor whose name is well known, and is, as are all the others, at the disposal of any official inquirers. He writes to me:
"I was engaged to play in the 'panto' of 'Sinbad the Sailor.' We were to rehearse and play a week at the 'Prince's Theatre,' Llandudno. I was in the habit of visiting a certain barber's shop, and was always attended to by a German assistant. He seemed a man of about forty years of age, and his name was K—— [the actual name is given]. On the first Saturday of my sojourn in the place I called at the shop, along with another member of our company. When about to leave, my 'pal' and myself were rather startled by the 'attendant' inviting the two of us to come for a drive on the following day, Sunday. Naturally we accepted the invitation, at the same time thinking it rather strange that a man earning say 30s. a week could afford such a luxury as a drive. At noon, next day, my friend and I turned up at the rendezvous, and sure enough our friend was there with a landau and pair. This was certainly doing the 'big thing,' but more was to follow.
"We drove to Conway, stabled there, and then went for a stroll round the picturesque old castle. Our friend then proposed that we adjourn for something to eat, so, as our appetites were a bit keen by this time, we went to the 'White Hart Hotel.' Here another surprise awaited us, for dinner was all set and ready. And what a dinner! My 'pal' and I had visions of a huge bill, but on our friend squaring the amount we sat in open-mouthed surprise.
"By this time we were anxious to know a little about our 'host,' but not until he had had a few brandy-and-sodas did he tell us much. He then said he had some estates in Germany, and ultimately confessed (in strict confidence) that he held an important Government appointment. After a few hours in Conway we drove back to Llandudno, and as our friend of the 'soap and brush' was in a hilarious mood, nothing would do but that we drive to his rooms. And what rooms! Fit for a prince! We had a splendid supper followed by wine and cigars. He then proceeded to show my friend and me a great number of photographs (all taken by himself, he explained) of all the coast mountains and roads for many miles around Llandudno. It was not till we mentioned the affair to some gentlemen in Llandudno that we were informed that our barber friend was, in all probability, a spy in the pay of the German Government!"
Here is another, from a correspondent at Glasgow:
"Down by the shipping, along the Clydeside, are many barbers' shops, etc., owned by foreigners, and in one of these I think I have spotted an individual whose movements and behaviour entitle me to regard him as a spy. The party in question is a German of middle age, a man of remarkably refined appearance—in fact, not the class of man that one would ordinarily associate with a barber's shop. One has but to engage him in conversation to discover that he is no stupid foreigner, but a man very much up to date as regards our methods and things happening in this country. Our language, too, he speaks like a native, and, were it not for his markedly Teutonic features, he might pass for one of ourselves.
"What excited my suspicions first regarding this personage was the fact that he was continually quizzing and putting to me questions regarding my employment of a decidedly delicate nature, and conversing freely on subjects about which I thought few people knew anything. I also noticed, when in his shop, that he was most lavish in his remarks to customers, especially to young engineers and draughtsmen who came to him from the neighbouring shipbuilding yards, leading them on to talk about matters concerning the Navy and shipbuilding; their work in the various engineering shops and drawing offices; and the time likely to be taken to complete this or that gunboat, etc. Indeed, with some of these young engineers and draughtsmen I have not failed to notice that he is particularly 'chummy,' and I also know, for a fact, that on several occasions he has been 'up town' with them, visiting music halls and theatres, and that they have spent many evenings together. On these occasions no doubt, under the influence of liquor, many confidences will have been exchanged, and many 'secrets' regarding work and methods indiscreetly revealed.
"But so much for the above. On surmise alone my conclusions regarding this man might have been entirely wrong, but for the fact that I, one evening, met with a former employee of his, also a German, in another barber's shop in the city. This youngster, evidently nursing a grievance against his late employer for something or other, was quick to unburden himself to me regarding him, and gave me the following particulars. He said that his late master was not what he appeared to be, and that his barbering was all a blind to cover something else; in fact (and this he hinted pretty broadly) that his presence over here in this country was for no good. He further said that he was still a member of the German Army (although in appearance he looks to be long past military service), and that regularly money was sent to him from Berlin; that he was an agent for the bringing in to this country of crowds of young Germans, male and female, who came over here to learn our language and study our methods; that his shop was the rendezvous for certain members of his own nationality, who met there periodically at night for some secret purpose which he had never been able to fathom; that he was often away from the shop for weeks at a time, no one knew where, the business in his absence then being looked after by a brother. In addition to the above, I may say that the walls of his shop are positively crowded with pictures of such celebrities as Lord Roberts, Lord Kitchener, General French, etc., etc., the face of the Kaiser being a noticeable absentee, doubtless on purpose. He likes you, too, to believe in his affection for this country, which he openly parades, although I am told that in private he sneers at us, at our soldiers and people. From the above, I think I have established my case against this wily Teuton, who, while masquerading as a barber, is yet all the time here for a totally different purpose, i.e. to spy upon us."