Again Lody hesitated; then he added quietly that the person was a superior naval officer. "I was summoned to see him," he said; "and I had three or four interviews with him."
Then came a question which provoked a very remarkable reply. "Are you willing," asked counsel, "to tell the court what took place at those interviews with your superior officer?"
"I am willing to tell the court," said Lody. "And I am willing not to conceal anything, but I should like it not to be in public, as I shall certainly refer to very essential and important affairs."
Lody was then asked to give the "principal instruction" that he received, and he did so readily. He was to remain in England until the first engagement had taken place between the two Powers, and send information as regards the actual losses of the British Fleet. Then he was at liberty to go on to New York; he had previously asked for permission to do so. He was also told to get all the information he could with regard to the movements of the Fleet, and what was going on in England, but was specially warned not to go and "spy round," but to see as much as every traveller could see.
Lody added that he was very reluctant to undertake this work, as he felt he was not well fitted for it. He pointed this out, he said. It was put to him that pressure was applied to him to induce him to undertake the mission, to which he replied: "There was no pressure, but there is certainly an understanding. If they make a suggestion you feel obliged to obey. I have never been a coward in my life, and I certainly won't be a shirker."
Let us give credit where credit is due—even in espionage. I think everyone will admit that, whatever view we may take of this spy's offence—and views on the subject of espionage will always vary widely—Lody behaved as a brave man. He was, in the first place, absolutely loyal to his chiefs; there was about him nothing of the craven wretch as willing to sacrifice his own country as any other if he could hope by so doing to win any favour for himself. Nor would he even speak in open Court of matters which, as he thought, might have been prejudicial to us. One cannot but recognise his chivalry. It is not often that the man in the dock deserves all his counsel says about him, but Lody was an exception, and the eloquent plea on his behalf made by Mr. George Elliott, K.C., who defended him, deserves to be remembered, not only for its references to Lody, but as a tribute to British justice, which placed at the service of a dangerous adversary the skill of one of the most brilliant members of the English Bar.
Whatever his fate might be, said Mr. Elliott, he hoped the accused would remember to the last hour of his existence that he had received from the country whose interests he came to betray a trial which, for fairness, was unrivalled in history. He said, quite frankly, that he came to this country in the service of his own—as a German actuated by patriotic German motives. He had told the Court all that he could tell, refusing to speak only where it clashed with his word of honour as an officer and a gentleman. He was not a man who had sold his country for gold, and he had not attempted to corrupt a single British subject or official.
"I plead for him," said Mr. Elliott, admitting that a conviction was unavoidable, but asking the Court whether they could not find some extenuating circumstances, "not as a miserable coward, or as a fear-stricken wretch, but as a man born of a land to which he is true, whose history and traditions he cherishes. His own grandfather was a great soldier who held a fortress against Napoleon, and it is in that spirit he wishes to stand before you here to-day. He was ready to offer himself on the altar of his country. I am not here to cringe for mercy; my client is not ashamed of anything he has done. Many a man would do for England what he did for Germany—may, in fact, be now doing it. Whatever his fate, he will meet it bravely like a man."
The verdict, as usual in the case of a court-martial, was not announced until some days later, when an official statement told us that Lody had been shot. He maintained his courage to the end, and died without a tremor. Before he died he left a letter in which he admitted he had had a fair trial, and expressed appreciation of the fact that he had been treated, not as a spy, but as an officer.