German Spies in England: An Exposure

by William Le Queux

Then Parrott described how he got a letter from the lady asking him to go to Rotterdam to see her. This he did, hoping, as he said, "to induce her to come to England, as he wished to raise the question why he was dismissed from the Service." Not unnaturally the lady declined to come, but Parrott admitted that she told a man who was with her to pay his expenses, and then gave him 100 francs.

"I have little doubt but that you were entrapped by a woman," said Mr. Justice Darling, in sending Parrott to four years' penal servitude. "You have been long under suspicion," his Lordship added; "I do not believe for a moment it was a first offence."

Even the Liberal journals which had long insisted that there were no German spies in England thought this sentence was inadequate. "It will strike most people," said the Daily Chronicle, "as not erring on the side of over-severity." The case was a flagrant abuse of a most sacred trust, and deserved all the punishment the law allowed; as a matter of fact, it deserved a good deal more, and Parrott was more than lucky that he was on trial, not in Germany, but in England.

The case of Karl Gustav Ernst is of very great interest, not only as revealing some of the methods of the Kaiser's "master-spy," the man Steinhauer, but also as showing the utter futility of relying on "naturalisation" of Germans to protect us against spying.

We are constantly told that it is impossible for us to take steps against "naturalised" Germans, as we have solemnly undertaken to treat them in all respects as Englishmen, and we have even "naturalised" many Germans since the outbreak of war. The Ernst case ought to have been sufficient warning of the danger arising from the naturalised alien, but apparently there is no limit to the innocent trustfulness of our sleepy Home Office. How long it will be before we learn that a German no more changes his nature by adopting naturalisation than an ass does if he clothes himself in a lion's skin I cannot say; I only hope it will not be brought home to us by some terrible catastrophe which will seriously affect our fighting power. Ernst, be it remembered, was not even naturalised; he claimed to have been born in England, and posed as an Englishman. Yet he was a spy; how much more, then, have we reason to suspect the recently "naturalised alien" whose national sympathies have not been blunted by birth and long residence in this country? The leopard cannot change his spots, and "once a German, always a German," is the only safe rule for us in the present crisis.

Ernst, who was a hairdresser in the Caledonian Road, London, had been for sixteen years in business there. His function was to act as a sort of "post-office" for Steinhauer of Potsdam, by whom letters were sent to him for distribution throughout England. In order to minimise risks of detection, these letters were posted in various parts of London. Ernst, of course, besides acting as "post-office," made inquiries on his own account, and did some of the work of getting into touch with other agents. He was paid all out-of-pocket expenses and a kind of retaining fee, first of £1 a month, and then, when he pointed out that the business was both risky and important, £1 10s. a month.

Ernst first came under suspicion of the Nameless Department as long ago as October, 1911, and we ought to admit with cheerful gratitude that he was a very valuable ally to us! From the very commencement the authorities were, I happen to know, alive to what was going on, and the closest observation was kept on the hairdresser's shop. All letters were opened by the postal authorities, their contents were carefully copied, and a most useful accumulation of information thus came into the hands of the astute director of the Department. It was not specifically stated that Parrott was detected in this way, but as letters were sent to him by Ernst we may well assume that by such means the authorities were put on his track.

One of the most useful pieces of information picked up was a list of names and addresses of persons to whom letters from Germany were sent for distribution, and who were spies at Chatham, Sheerness, Portsmouth, Rosyth, and other places. An amusing feature of the case was that after all these letters had been carefully examined and copied by the Post Office they were delivered in the ordinary course with only a very slight delay, and thus the suspicions of the spies, if indeed they entertained any, were most effectually put to sleep. The Nameless Department was not quite the fool the Germans had some excuse for thinking it!

An important discovery made early in the case was the nom de guerre of Steinhauer of Potsdam. He had at that time become "Mrs. Reimers." "Mr. J. Walters, c/o K.G. Ernst" was soon found to be Ernst himself, who had long before suggested the adoption of that name to avoid suspicion.