How a German secret agent altered a British military message is told by another of my correspondents, who says:
"The time of the incident was during the visit of the Kaiser to the Earl of Lonsdale at Lowther Castle. I was employed at an hotel in Keswick, and my duties were to look after a billiard-room. Among my customers was a foreign gentleman, who was always rather inquisitive if any military matter was under discussion, and our many chats brought us on very friendly terms. Well, about the last week of the Emperor's visit, the Earl of Lonsdale arranged a drive for the Emperor and the house-party for the purpose of letting them see the English Lake District. The route lay via Patterdale, Windermere, Thirlmere, then on to Keswick, from there by train to Penrith, and again drive the three or four miles back to Lowther Castle.
"It must be remembered that, the Emperor's visit being a private one, military displays would be out of place, but on the day of the above-mentioned drive a telegram was received from the officer in command of the Penrith Volunteers asking if permission could be granted for the volunteers to mount a guard of honour at the station on the arrival of the Emperor's train at Penrith. Now, as I was going up home to the 'Forge' I met my father coming to Keswick, and as he seemed out of wind, I undertook to take his message, which was the reply to the above 'wire.' The text of the answer only contained two words, which were to the point: 'Certainly not,' and signed by the commanding officer at headquarters. When I got within half a mile of Keswick I was overtaken by my foreign acquaintance, who was on a bicycle, and on his asking me why I was hurrying, I told him I had a rather urgent 'wire' to send. He kindly undertook to have it despatched, as he was passing the Post Office, and I unsuspectingly consented. On the arrival of the royal train at Penrith you may judge the surprise and disgust of the officers, some of whom had in private travelled in the royal train to see the volunteers lining the station approach! Inquiries were made—the post office authorities produced the telegram, as handed in, with the word 'not' carefully erased, making the message mean the opposite. I never from that day saw my foreign friend again, but many times have wondered was it one of the Kaiser's wishes to see if his agents could play a trick on the volunteers for his own eyes to see!"
Here is a curious story of a German commercial spy, the writer of which gives me his bona fides. He writes:
"In a glucose factory where I worked, the head of the firm had a bookkeeper who went wrong. If that bookkeeper had never gone wrong, we should never have known of the German who worked hard in England for a whole year for nothing. One day the head—I'll call him Mr. Brown for short—received a letter from a young German saying that he would like to represent the glucose manufacturer among the merchants of this country, whose trade, he said, he could secure. He said he would be willing to postpone the consideration of salary pending the result of his services. Well, Brown turned the German over to the bookkeeper, who found that the German had splendid credentials from his own country. So Brown told the bookkeeper to engage the German, and pay him £40 a month to start. At the end of six months the German's service had proved so satisfactory that Brown told his bookkeeper to pay the German £50 a month till further notice; and three months later the salary was again raised by Brown to £60. Along about the time the German's year was up, he suddenly disappeared. That is, he failed one morning to put in an appearance at the office at the usual time. Brown noticed that morning that his bookkeeper, who was also cashier, was extremely absent-minded and looked altogether unhappy. 'What's the matter with you?' said Brown, addressing the bookkeeper. 'This is the matter,' was the reply, and thereupon the bookkeeping cashier laid before his employer a cheque for hundreds of pounds. It was made payable to the order of the absent German, and was signed with the personal signature of the bookkeeper. 'What's this mean?' asked Brown. 'It means,' said the wild-eyed bookkeeper, 'that I have never paid that German his salary—not one penny in all the time he has been here. He never asked for money, always had plenty, so I pocketed from month to month the money due to him. But it's killing me. I didn't need to do it. I just couldn't resist the temptation. I had money of my own, and knew I could pay him any time. Yesterday when you said that I must again raise his salary I realised for the first time the enormity of the thing I was doing. I resolved to tell the German the whole story this morning, and give him his money in full. This is the cheque for the money I have stolen from him. I have money in the bank to meet it. I want him to have it, I don't care what follows.' Brown, gazing spellbound at his clerk, said: 'But I don't understand. Did the German never ask for his salary?' 'No,' replied the bookkeeper. 'He always had money; he seemed only to want the situation—to be connected with this house; he has some mysterious influence over the German trade in this country.' A weather-beaten man in a sea-jacket an hour or two later unceremoniously shuffled into the office. He handed Brown a note, who read it aloud: 'I am aboard ship by this time,' the letter said, 'bound for my country. Receive my sincere regrets at the abrupt termination of our pleasant relations. Through connection with your firm, I have found out the secret of glucose-making, and am going back to impart it to the firm which I belong to in Germany. You owe me nothing."
These few cases I print here because I think it but right to show that both before the war, and since, the public have not been so utterly blinded to the truth as the authorities had hoped.
Many of the other cases before me are of such a character that I do not propose to reveal them to the public, still hoping against hope that proper inquiry may be instituted by a reliable Board formed to deal with the whole matter. And, for obvious reasons, premature mention of them might defeat the ends of justice by warning the spies that their "game" is known.
I here maintain that there is a peril—a very grave and imminent peril—in attempting to further delude the public, and, by so doing, further influence public opinion.
The seed of distrust in the Government has, alas! been sown in the public mind, and each day, as the alien question is evaded, it takes a firmer and firmer root.