GERMAN SPIES IN ENGLAND
GERMAN SPIES
IN ENGLAND
AN EXPOSURE
BY
WILLIAM LE QUEUX
AUTHOR OF
"LYING LIPS," "FATAL THIRTEEN,"
"THE FOUR FACES," ETC.
TORONTO
THOMAS LANGTON
1915
Printed in Great Britain
CONTENTS
From the outbreak of war until to-day I have hesitated to write this book. But I now feel impelled to do so by a sense of duty.
The truth must be told. The peril must be faced.
Few men, I venture to think, have been more closely associated with, or know more of the astounding inner machinery of German espionage in this country, and in France, than myself.
Though the personnel of the Confidential Department established at Whitehall to deal with these gentry have, during the past six years, come and gone, I have, I believe, been the one voluntary assistant who has remained to watch and note, both here and in Belgium—where the German headquarters were established—the birth and rapid growth of this ever-spreading canker-worm in the nation's heart.
I am no alarmist. This is no work of fiction, but of solid and serious fact. I write here of what I know; and, further, I write with the true spirit of loyalty. Though sorely tempted, at this crisis, to publish certain documents, and make statements which would, I know, add greatly to the weight of this book, I refrain, because such statements might reveal certain things to the enemy, including the identity of those keen and capable officials who have performed so nobly their work of contra-espionage.
Yet to-day, with the fiercest war in history in progress, with our bitterest enemy threatening us with invasion, and while we are compelled to defend our very existence as a nation, yet Spies are nobody's business!
It is because the British public have so long been officially deluded, reassured and lulled to sleep, that I feel it my duty to now speak out boldly, and write the truth after a silence of six years.
Much contained within these covers will probably come as a complete revelation to many readers who have hitherto, and perhaps not unjustly, regarded spies as the mere picturesque creation of writers of fiction. At the outset, however, I wish to give them an assurance that, if certain reports of mine—which now repose in the archives of the Confidential Department—were published, they would create a very considerable sensation, and entirely prove the truth of what I have ventured to write within these covers.
I desire, further, to assure the reader that, since 1905, when I first endeavoured to perform what I considered to be my duty as an Englishman, I have only acted from the purest patriotic motives, while, from a pecuniary point of view, I have lost much by my endeavour.
The knowledge that in the past, as now, I did what I conceived to be but my duty to my country, was, in itself, an all-sufficient reward; and if, after perusal of this book, the reader will only pause for a moment and reflect upon the very serious truths it contains, then I shall have accomplished all I have attempted.
We have, since the war, had a rude awakening from the lethargy induced by false official assurances concerning the enemy in our midst.
It is for the nation to now give its answer, and to demand immediate and complete satisfaction from those who were directly responsible for the present national peril, which, if unchecked, must inevitably result in grave disaster.
WILLIAM LE QUEUX.
Hawson Court,
Buckfastleigh, Devon.
February, 1915.
GERMAN SPIES IN ENGLAND
HOW THE TRUTH WAS HIDDEN
The actual truth regarding Germany's secret and elaborate preparations for a raid upon our shores has not yet been told. It will, however, I venture to think, cause considerable surprise.
A few curious facts have, it is true, leaked out from time to time through the columns of the newspapers, but the authorities—and more especially the Home Office, under Mr. McKenna—have been most careful to hide the true state of affairs from the public, and even to lull them into a false sense of security, for obvious reasons. The serious truth is that German espionage and treasonable propaganda have, during past years, been allowed by a slothful military administration to take root so deeply, that the authorities to-day find themselves powerless to eradicate its pernicious growth.
Unfortunately for myself—for by facing the British public and daring to tell them the truth, I suffered considerable pecuniary loss—I was in 1905 the first person to venture to suggest to the authorities, by writing my forecast "The Invasion of England," the most amazing truth, that Germany was secretly harbouring serious hostile intentions towards Great Britain.
The reader, I trust, will forgive me for referring to my own personal experiences, for I do so merely in order to show that to the grievous, apathetic attitude of the Government of the time the present scandalous state of affairs is entirely due.
I had lived in Germany for a considerable period. I had travelled up and down the country; I had lived their "home life"; I had lounged in their officers' clubs; and I had indulged in the night-life of Berlin; and, further, I had kept my eyes and ears open. By this, I had gained certain knowledge. Therefore I resolved to write the truth, which seemed to me so startling.
My daring, alas! cost me dearly. On the day prior to the publication of the book in question, Sir Henry Campbell Bannerman, then Premier, rose in the House of Commons and—though he had never had an opportunity of seeing my work—deliberately condemned it, declaring that it "should never have been written" because it was calculated to create alarm. Who, among the readers of this book, would condemn anything he had not even seen? Now the last thing the Government desired was that public attention should be drawn to the necessity of preparing against German aggression.
Once the real fear of the German peril had taken root in our islands, there would instantly have been an irresistible demand that no money should be spared to equip and prepare our fighting forces for a very possible war—and then good-bye to the four-hundred-a-year payments to Members, and those vast sums which were required to bribe the electors with Social Reform.
In the columns of the Times I demanded by what right the Prime Minister had criticised a book which he had never even seen, and in justice to the late Sir Henry Campbell Bannerman I must here record that he apologised to me, privately, for committing what he termed a "political error."
Political error! If there had been no further "political errors" in this dear old country of ours, we should have no war to-day.
The Government was bent upon suppressing the truth of my earnest appeal; hence I was held up to derision, and, in addition, denounced on all hands as a "scaremonger."
Now, at the outset, I wish to say that I am no party politician. My worst enemy could never call me that. I have never voted for a candidate in my life, for my motto has ever been "Britain for the British." My appeal to the nation was made in all honesty of purpose, and in the true sense of the patriotism of one who probably has the ear of a wide public. The late Lord Roberts realised this. Our national hero, who, like myself, was uttering words of solemn warning, knew what pressure the Government were endeavouring to place upon me, and how they meant to crush me; therefore on November 29th, 1905, he wrote the following:—
"Speaking in the House of Lords on the 10th July, 1905, I said:—'It is to the people of the country I appeal to take up the question of the Army in a sensible practical manner. For the sake of all they hold dear, let them bring home to themselves what would be the condition of Great Britain if it were to lose its wealth, its power, its position.' The catastrophe that may happen if we still remain in our present state of unpreparedness is vividly and forcibly illustrated in Mr. Le Queux's new book, which I recommend to the perusal of every one who has the welfare of the British Empire at heart."
But alas! if the public disregarded the earnest warnings of "Bobs," it was scarcely surprising that it should disregard mine—especially after the Prime Minister had condemned me. My earnest appeal to the nation met only with jeers and derision, I was caricatured at the music halls, and somebody wrote a popular song which asked, "Are we Downhearted?"
Neither the British public, nor the authorities, desired the truth, and, ostrich-like, buried their heads in the sand. Germany would never dare to go to war, we were told, many wiseacres adding, "Not in our time."
The violent storm of indignation sweeping upon my unfortunate head, I confess, staggered me. The book, which had cost me eighteen months of hard work, and a journey of ten thousand miles in a motor-car, was declared to be the exaggerated writing of a Jingo, a sensationalist, and one who desired to stir up strife between nations. I was both puzzled and pained.
Shortly afterwards, I met Mr. (now Lord) Haldane—then War Minister—at dinner at a country house in Perthshire, when, in his breezy way, he assured me over the dinner-table that he knew Germany and German intentions better than myself, and that there would never be war. And he waxed humorous at my expense, and scorned Lord Roberts's warnings.
The Kaiser's cleverness in ingratiating himself with certain English Statesmen, officers, and writers is really amazing, yet it was—though at that time unsuspected—part of the great German plot formed against us.
As an instance how the Emperor was cleverly misleading the British Cabinet, Lord Haldane, speaking on June 29th, 1912, at a public dinner, at which Baron Marschall von Bieberstein, the German Ambassador, was present, said:—
"I speak of one whom we admire in this country and regard as one of ourselves.
"He (the Kaiser) knows our language and our institutions as we do, and he speaks as we do.
"The German Emperor is something more than an Emperor—he is a man, and a great man. He is gifted by the gods with the highest gift that they can give—I use a German word to express it—Geist (spirit). He has got Geist in the highest degree. He has been a true leader of his people—a leader in spirit as well as in deed. He has guided them through nearly a quarter of a century, and preserved unbroken peace. I know no record of which a monarch has better cause to be proud. In every direction his activities have been remarkable.
"He has given his country that splendid fleet that we who know about fleets admire; he has preserved the tradition of the greatest army the world has ever seen; but it is in the arts of peace that he has been equally great. He has been the leader of his people in education, and in the solution of great social questions.
"That is a great record, and it makes one feel a sense of rejoicing that the man who is associated with these things should be half an Englishman. I have the feeling very strongly that in the last few years Germany and England have become much more like each other than they used to be. It is because we have got so much like each other that a certain element of rivalry comes in.
"We two nations have a great common task in the world—to make the world better. It is because the German Emperor, I know, shares that conviction profoundly that it gives me the greatest pleasure to give you the toast of his name."
The Government, having sought to point the finger of ridicule at my first warning, must have been somewhat surprised at the phenomenal success which the book in question attained, for not only were over a million copies sold in different editions in English, but it was translated into no fewer than twenty-six languages—including Japanese—and, further, was adopted as a text-book in the German Army—though I may add that the details I gave of various vulnerable points around our coasts were so disguised as to be of little use to the enemy.
I had had a disheartening experience. Yet worse was to come.
A couple of years later, while making certain inquiries in Germany with a view to continuing my campaign, and my endeavour to disclose the real truth to the British public, I discovered, to my surprise, the existence of a wide-spread system of German espionage in England.
Just about that time Colonel Mark Lockwood, the Member for Epping, asked a question in the House of Commons regarding the reported presence of spies in Essex. For his pains he was, of course, like myself, promptly snubbed.
A week later, I ventured to declare, at a meeting in Perth, that in our midst we were harbouring a new, most dangerous, and well-organised enemy—a horde of German spies.
German spies in England! Who ever heard such wild rubbish! This completed the bitterness of public opinion against me. The Press unanimously declared that I had spoken wilful untruths; my statements were refuted in leading articles, and in consequence of my endeavour to indicate a grave national peril, a certain section of the Press even went so far as to boycott my writings altogether! Indeed, more than one first-class London newspaper which had regularly published my novels—I could name them, but I will not—refused to print any more of my work!
I was, at the same time, inundated with letters from persons who openly abused me and called me a liar, and more than one anonymous communication, which I have still kept, written in red ink and probably from spies themselves, for the caligraphy is distinctly foreign, threatened me with death.
Such was my reward for daring to awaken the country to a sense of danger. It caused me some amusement, I must confess, yet it also taught me a severe lesson—the same bitter lesson which the British public, alas! taught Lord Roberts, who was so strenuously endeavouring to indicate the danger of our unpreparedness. It told me one plain truth, a truth spoken in the words of the noble General himself, who, with a sigh, one day said to me, "Nothing, I fear, will arouse the public to a sense of danger until they one day awaken and find war declared."
On the day following my speech, the German Press, which published reports of it, called me "the German-hater," by which epithet I am still known in the Fatherland. The editor of a certain London daily newspaper told me to my face: "There are no spies in England"; adding, "You are a fool to alarm the public by such a statement. Nobody believes you."
I, however, held my own views, and felt that it was my duty to act in one of two ways. Either I should place the confidential information and documents which I had gathered, mostly from German sources, in the hands of the Press, and thus vindicate myself; or give them over to the Government, and allow them to deal with them in a befitting and confidential manner. The latter attitude I deemed to be the correct one, as an Englishman—even though I have a foreign name. At the War Office the officials at first sniffed, and then, having carefully examined the documents, saw at once that I had discovered a great and serious truth.
For this reason I have never sought, until now, to vindicate myself in the public eye; yet I have the satisfaction of knowing that from that moment, until this hour of writing, a certain nameless department, known only by a code-number,—I will refer to it as the Confidential Department,—has been unremitting in its efforts to track down German secret agents and their deadly work.
Through six years I have been intimate with its workings. I know its splendid staff, its untiring and painstaking efforts, its thoroughness, its patriotism, and the astuteness of its head director, who is one of the finest Englishmen of my acquaintance.
There are men who, like myself, have since done work for it both at home and abroad, and at a considerable expenditure—patriotic men who have never asked for a single penny to cover even their expenses—men who have presented reports which have cost them long journeys abroad, many a watchful night, much personal danger, and considerable outlay. Yet all the time the Home Office ridiculed the idea of spies, and thus misled the public.
The archives of the secret department in question, which commenced its activity after the presentation of my array of facts, would be an amazing revelation to the public, but, alas! would, if published, bring ignominy, disaster, and undying shame to certain persons among us towards whom the Kaiser, the Master-Spy, has, in the past decade, been unduly gracious.
I could name British spies. I could write things here, shameful facts, which would, like my first allegations, be scouted with disbelief, although I could prove them in these pages. But, as a Briton, I will not reveal facts which repose in those secret files, records of traitorous shame, of high-placed men in England who have lived for years in the enjoyment of generous allowances from a mysterious source. To write here the truth I feel sorely tempted, in spite of the law of libel.
But enough! We are Englishmen. Let us wipe off the past, in the hope that such traitorous acts will never be repeated, and that at last our eyes are open to the grave dangers that beset us.
To-day we have awakened, and the plain truth of all for which I have contended is surely obvious to the world.
THE KAISER'S SECRET REVEALED
Before proceeding further with this exposure of the clever and dastardly German plot against England, the reader will probably be interested in a confidential report which, in the course of my investigations, travelling hither and thither on the Continent, I was able to secure, and to hand over to the British Government for their consideration.
It was placed, in confidence, before certain members of the Cabinet, and is still in the archives of the Confidential Department.
The report in question, I obtained—more fully than I can here reproduce it—from an intimate personal friend, who happened to be a high functionary in Germany, and closely associated with the Kaiser. Germany has spies in England; we, too, have our friends in Germany.
Shortly after the Zeppelin airship had been tested and proved successful, a secret Council was held at Potsdam, in June, 1908, at which the Emperor presided, Prince Henry of Prussia—a clever man whom I know personally—the representatives of the leading Federal States, and the chiefs of the army and navy—including my informant—being present.
I regret that I am not at liberty to give the name of my informant, for various reasons. One is that, though a German of high position, he holds pro-British views, and has, in consequence, more than once furnished me with secret information from Berlin which has been of the greatest use to our Intelligence Department. Suffice it to say that his identity is well known at Whitehall, and that, although his report was at first regarded with suspicion, the searching investigation at once made resulted in its authenticity being fully established.
That the Kaiser had decided to make war, the British Government first knew by the report in question—notwithstanding all the diplomatic juggling, and the publication of Blue Books and White Books. The French Yellow Book published in the first week of December, 1914, indeed, came as confirmation—if any confirmation were necessary—from the lips of King Albert of Belgium himself.
Now at this secret Council the Kaiser appeared, dressed in naval uniform, pale, determined, and somewhat nervous and unstrung. For more than two hours he spoke of the danger confronting the German Empire from within and without, illustrating his speech by many maps and diagrams, as well as some well-executed models of air-craft, designed for the war now proceeding.
At first, the Emperor's voice was almost inaudible, and he looked haggard and worn.
[1]"Gentlemen," the Emperor, in a low, hoarse voice, commenced, "in calling this Council this evening, I have followed the Divine command. Almighty God has always been a great and true ally of the House of Hohenzollern, and it is to Him that I—just as my august ancestors did—look for inspiration and guidance in the hour of need. After long hours of fervent prayer light has, at last, come to me. You, my trusted councillors and my friends, before whom I have no secrets, can testify that it has been, ever since I ascended the throne, my most ardent desire to maintain the peace of the world and to cultivate, on a basis of mutual respect and esteem, friendship and goodwill with all the nations on the globe. I am aware that the course followed by me did not always meet with your approval, and that on many an occasion you would have been glad to see me use the mailed fist, rather than the silken glove chosen by me in my dealings with certain foreign nations. It was a source of profound grief to me to see my best intentions misunderstood, but bulletproof against public censure and criticism, and responsible only to the Lord above us for my acts, I calmly continued to do what I considered to be my holy duty to the Fatherland. True to the great traditions of Prussia, and the House of Hohenzollern, I believed in the necessity of maintaining a great army and an adequate navy as the best guarantee of peace. In our zeal for the preservation of peace we were compelled to keep pace with the ever-increasing armaments of our neighbours, until the limit seems now to have been reached.
"We find ourselves now face to face with the most serious crisis in the history of our new German Empire. Owing to the heavy taxation, and the enormous increase in the cost of living, the discontent of the masses is assuming alarming proportions, and even infecting the middle and upper classes, which have, up to the present time, been the strongest pillar of the monarchy. But worst of all, there are unmistakable signs that the discontent is spreading even among the troops, and that a secret well-organised anti-military movement is afoot, calculated to destroy all discipline, and to incite both my soldiers and sailors to open disobedience and rebellion. As, according to the reports of my Secret Service, a similar movement is making itself felt in nearly all the states of Europe; all indications point to the fact, which admits, indeed, no longer of any doubt, that we have to deal with an international revolutionary organisation whose voiced object is the overthrowing of throne and altar, and the establishment of a Republican government.
"The gravity of the situation can, in no way, be underrated. In the last session of the Reichstag it was openly admitted that never before had there been among the German population so many friends of a republican form of government as at the present time, and the idea is rather gaining ground, not only among the masses, but also the classes, though I have given the strictest orders to my Government for its suppression. The fact, however, remains, and I cannot afford to ignore it.
"'Breakers ahead!' is the call of the helmsman at the Imperial ship of state, and I am ready to heed it. How to find an honourable and satisfactory solution of the problem is a question to which I have devoted the closest attention during these last months. The outlook is, I admit, dark, but we need not despair, for God, our great ally, has given into our hands the means of saving our Empire from the dangers which are threatening its happiness and welfare. You know what I mean. It is that wonderful invention which His Excellency Count Zeppelin was enabled, through the grace of the Lord, to make for the safeguarding and glory of our beloved Fatherland. In this invention God has placed the means at my disposal to lead Germany triumphantly out of her present difficulties and to make, once and for all, good the words of our poet, 'Deutschland, Deutschland über alles!' Yes, gentlemen, Germany over everything in the world, the first power on earth, both in peace and war; that is the place which I have been ordered by God to conquer for her, and which I will conquer for her, with the help of the Almighty.
"This is my irrevocable decision. At present we are, thanks to our airships, invincible, and can carry at will war into the enemy's own country. It goes without saying that if we want to maintain our superiority and to use it to the best advantage, we cannot postpone the necessary action much longer. In a few years our good friend, the enemy, may have a fleet of airships equal—if not superior—to our own, and where should I be then? Great Britain has thrown down the gauntlet by declaring that she will build to each German, two English Dreadnoughts, and I will take up the challenge. Now is our time. The attack has always been the best defence, and he who strikes the first blow generally comes triumphant out of the fray. To find an outlet for the discontent of the nation; to nip the growing republican sentiment in the bud; to fill our treasury; to reduce the burden of taxation; to gain new colonies and markets for our industries across the seas; to accomplish all this and still more, we simply have to invade England.
"You do not look at all surprised, gentlemen, and I see from the joy on your faces that my words have found an echo in your hearts. At last this idea, which is so popular with the greater part of my people, and to the propagation of which I am so much indebted to the untiring efforts of my professors, teachers, and other loyal patriots, is to become a fact—a fact certainly not anticipated by the English panic-mongers when first creating the scare of a German invasion. Our plans have been most carefully laid and prepared by our General Staff.
"Another von Moltke will, true to his great name, demonstrate to the world at large that we have not been resting on our laurels of 1870 and 1871, and that, as the first condition of peace, we have been preparing all the time for war. The glorious deeds of our victorious armies will, I fear me not, be again repeated if not surpassed on the battlefields of Great Britain and France, assuring in their ultimate consequences to Germany the place due to her at the head of nations. I need not go into details at the present moment. Suffice it to say that preparations have been made to convey, at a word, a German army of invasion of a strength able to cope with any and all troops that Great Britain can muster against us. For the safe transport of the army of invasion we shall, to a considerable degree, rely on the fleets of fast steamers belonging to the Hamburg-Amerika Line and the North-German Lloyd, two patriotic companies, whose officials, employees, and agents have—throughout the world—proven their zeal and devotion to the cause of the Empire, and whose tact and discretion have already helped my government in many an embarrassing position. Herr Ballin, Director-General of the Hamburg-Amerika Line, whom I received but a few days since on board my yacht 'Hohenzollern' at Swinemünde, is truly a great man and verily deserves something better than to be nicknamed 'the Napoleon of German Shipping'—as his enthusiastic compatriots call him. His activity, his energy, and his brains accomplish the most difficult things, and when the day of invasion arrives, he will reveal his plans.
"Of course it is too early yet to fix the exact date when the blow shall be struck. But I will say this, that we shall strike as soon as I have a sufficiently large fleet of Zeppelins at my disposal. I have given orders for the hurried construction of more airships of the improved Zeppelin type, and when these are ready we shall destroy England's North Sea, Channel, and Atlantic fleets, after which nothing on earth can prevent the landing of our army on British soil, and its triumphant march to London. Do you remember, my Generals, what our never-to-be-forgotten Field-Marshal Gebhard Lebrecht von Blücher exclaimed, when looking from the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral upon the vast metropolis at his feet. It was short, and to the point. 'What a splendid city to sack!'
"You will desire to know how the outbreak of hostilities will be brought about. I can assure you on this point. Certainly we shall not have to go far to find a just cause for war. My army of spies scattered over Great Britain and France, as it is over North and South America, as well as all the other parts of the world, where German interests may come to a clash with a foreign power, will take good care of that. I have issued already some time since secret orders that will, at the proper moment, accomplish what we desire. There is even now, as you are all aware, a state of private war existing between our country on the one side, and Great Britain and France on the other, which will assume an official character as soon as I give the word. It will become the starting point of a new era in the history of the world, known to all generations as the Pan-German era. I once pledged my word that every German outside of the Fatherland, in whatever part of the globe he might live, had a just claim to my Imperial protection. At this solemn hour I repeat this pledge before you, with the addition, however, that I shall not rest and be satisfied until all the countries and territories that once were German, or where greater numbers of my former subjects now live, have become a part of the great Mother-country, acknowledging me as their supreme lord in war and peace.
"Even now I rule supreme in the United States, where almost one half of the population is either of German birth, or of German descent, and where three million German voters do my bidding at the Presidential elections. No American administration could remain in power against the will of the German voters, who through that admirable organisation, the German-American National League of the United States of America, control the destinies of the vast Republic beyond the sea. If man ever was worthy of a high decoration at my hands it was Herr Dr. Hexamer, the president of the League, who may justly be termed to be, by my grace, the acting ruler of all the Germans in the United States.
"Who said that Germany did ever acknowledge the Monroe doctrine? The answer to this question was given by the roar of German guns at the bombardment of the Venezuelan fort, San Carlos, by our ships. The day is not far distant when my Germans in the Southern States of Brazil will cut the bonds now tying them to the Republic, and renew their allegiance to their former master. In the Argentine, as well as in the other South American republics, a German-Bund movement is spreading, as is the case in South Africa, where, thanks to the neighbourhood of our colonies, events are shaping themselves in accordance with the ultimate aims of my Imperial policy. Through my ally, the Emperor-King of Austria-Hungary, I have secured a strong foothold for Germany in the Near East, and, mark my word!—when the Turkish 'pilaf'-pie will be partitioned, Asia Minor, Syria and Palestine—in short, the overland route to India—will become our property, and the German flag will wave over the holy shrines of Jerusalem.
"But to obtain this we must first crush England and France. The war will be short, sharp and decisive. After the destruction of the English fleets through our Zeppelins, we shall meet with no serious resistance on the British Isles, and can, therefore, march with nearly our whole strength into France. Shall we respect the neutrality of Holland? Under the glorious Emperor, Charles V., both Holland and Belgium formed part of the German Empire, and this they are this time to become again. We shall have two or three battles in France, when the French Government, recognising the impossibility of prevailing with their disorganised, mutinous regiments against my German 'beasts,' will accede to my terms of peace. After that, the map of Europe will look somewhat different from what it does now. While our operations are going on in England and France, Russia will be held in check by Austria-Hungary.
"The Empire of the Tsar is still suffering from the effects of its unfortunate war with Japan, and is, therefore, not likely to burn its fingers again, the more so as it is conscious of the fact that any warlike measures against Germany would at once lead to a new outbreak of the revolutionary movement—the end of which no man could possibly foresee. Thus, you will agree with me, we have no real cause to fear Russia. After the war, it will be time to set things right in America, and to teach my friends over there that I have not forgotten the object-lesson which Admiral Dewey saw fit to give me some years since, when we had the little altercation with Castro.
"If God will help us, as I am convinced He will, I trust that at the end of the coming year the Imperial treasury will be filled to overflowing with the gold of the British and French war indemnities, that the discontent of our people will have ceased, that, thanks to our new colonies in all parts of the world, industry and trade will be flourishing as they never were before, and that the republican movement among my subjects, so abhorrent to my mind, will have vanished.
"Then—but not before—the moment will have come to talk of disarmament and arbitration. With Great Britain and France in the dust, with Russia and the United States at my mercy, I shall set a new course to the destinies of the world—a course that will ensure to Germany for all time to come the leading part among the nations of the globe. That accomplished, I shall unite all the people of the white race in a powerful alliance for the purpose of coping, under German guidance, with the yellow peril which is becoming more formidable with every year. Then—as now—it must be 'Germans to the front!'"
The notes before me describe, in vivid language, the effect which this speech of the Emperor had upon his devoted hearers.
The old white-headed General von K—— even knelt before his Majesty to kiss the hand which was gracefully extended to him.
"It is truly the voice of God that has spoken out of your Majesty," he cried in deep emotion. "God has chosen your Imperial Majesty as His worthy instrument to destroy this nightmare of British supremacy at sea, from which Germany has suffered all these many years—and God's will be done!"
The blasphemy of it all! In the subsequent Council, which lasted nearly five hours through the night, the Kaiser arrived with his advisers at a perfect understanding regarding the best ways and means to be adopted for a successful carrying out of his Majesty's secret campaign for war.
And Prince Henry of Prussia soon afterwards organised a British motor-tour in Germany and throughout England. And he became the idol of the Royal Automobile Club!
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The German Government, by some means, learnt that I was in possession of a report of this secret speech of the Kaiser's, and a curious incident resulted. It was my intention, in September, 1908, to write a book pointing out that Germany meant war. With that object I gave to my friend Mr. Eveleigh Nash, the publisher, of Fawside House, Covent Garden, the opening chapters of the manuscript, together with the speech in question. He locked them, in my presence, in a drawer in his writing-table in his private room. Two days later, when Mr. Nash opened that drawer he found they had been stolen! German Secret Agents undoubtedly committed the theft—which was reported in certain newspapers at the time—for I have since learnt that my manuscript is now in the archives of the Secret Service in Berlin! This, in itself, is sufficient proof as showing how eager the Kaiser was to suppress his declaration of war. It was fortunate that I had kept a copy of the Emperor's speech.
HOW THE PUBLIC WERE BAMBOOZLED
Though the foregoing has been known to the British Cabinet for over six years, and through it, no doubt, to the various Chancelleries of Europe, not a word was allowed to leak out to the world until December 2nd, 1914—after we had been at war four months.
The determination of the War Lord of Germany—whose preparations against Great Britain had been so slyly and so cunningly made—was at last revealed by the publication of the French Yellow Book, which disclosed that in a dispatch dated November 22nd, 1913, M. Jules Cambon, the French Ambassador in Berlin, reported a conversation between the Emperor and the King of the Belgians in the presence of General von Moltke, the chief of the General Staff. King Albert had till then believed, as most people in Great Britain had believed, that the Emperor was a friend of peace.
But at this interview King Albert, according to an excellent summary of the dispatches published in the Star, found the Emperor completely changed. He revealed himself as the champion of the war party which he had hitherto held in check. King Albert learned that the Emperor had "come to think that war with France was inevitable, and that things must come to that sooner or later." General von Moltke spoke to King Albert "exactly as his Sovereign." He, too, declared that "war was necessary and inevitable." He said to King Albert: "This time we must settle the business once and for all, and your Majesty can have no idea of the irresistible enthusiasm which on that day will sweep over the whole German people."
King Albert vainly protested that it was a travesty of the intentions of the French Government to interpret them in this fashion. He found the Emperor "over-wrought and irritable."
M. Cambon suggested that the change in the Emperor's attitude was due to jealousy of the popularity of the Crown Prince, "who flatters the passions of the Pan-Germans." He also suggested that the motive of the conversation was to induce King Albert to oppose no resistance in the event of war. The French Ambassador warned his Government that the Emperor was familiarising himself with an order of ideas once repugnant to him. In other words, as long ago as 1913 the Kaiser was no longer working for the peace of Europe, but was already in the hands of the Prussian gang of militarists, who were working for war.
The French Yellow Book proves up to the hilt the guilt of Germany, in shattering the last hopes of peace at the end of July, 1914. Russia had proposed a formula for a direct agreement with Austria, but on July 30th Herr von Jagow, without consulting Austria, declared that this proposal was not acceptable. When Germany discovered that Austria was wavering and becoming more conciliatory, she threw off the mask, and suddenly hurled her ultimatum at Russia. M. Cambon reminded Herr von Jagow of his declaration that Germany would not mobilise if Russia only mobilised on the Galician frontier. What was the German Minister's reply? It was a subterfuge. He said: "It was not a definite undertaking." The German Government, in its White Paper, suppressed its despatches during the crucial period to Vienna. It did not publish them because, we now know, it did not dare to reveal the truth.
Germany, as I have shown, had for a long time planned the attack on France through Belgium. So long ago, indeed, as May 6th, 1913, von Moltke said: "We must begin war without waiting, in order to brutally crush all resistance." The evidence of the Yellow Book proves that the Emperor and his entourage had irrevocably resolved to frustrate all efforts of the Allies to preserve the peace of Europe. It confirms the Kaiser's secret intentions revealed in the previous chapter, and it establishes—fully and finally—the guilt of the Kaiser and of the German Government.
Those British newspapers which were most active and resolute in keeping the country unprepared for the war that has come upon us, and which, if they had had their way, would have left us to-day almost naked to our enemies, are now suddenly rubbing their eyes, and discovering that Germany had premeditated war for quite a long time. And this is up-to-date journalism! The public, alas! reposed confidence in such journals. Happily, they do not now. What the country will never forget, if it consents to forgive, is the perversity with which they so long refused to look facts in the face.
It is surely a damning coincidence that when the Kaiser and von Moltke were telling King Albert that war was inevitable, was the very time chosen by the National Liberal Federation to demand the reduction of our Navy Estimates, and to threaten the Government with a dangerous division in the party unless the demand were complied with!
Reduction in armaments, forsooth!
The Government knew the facts, and did indeed resist the demand; but for weeks there was a crisis in the Cabinet, and even in January, 1914, as the Globe pointed out, a Minister took the occasion to declare that a unique opportunity had arrived for revising the scale of our expenditure on Armaments!
While Mr. McKenna was, as late as last November, endeavouring in an outrageous manner to gag the Globe, and to prevent that newspaper from telling the public the truth of the spy-peril, Lord Haldane—the scales from whose eyes regarding his friend the Kaiser appear now to have fallen—made a speech on November 25th, 1914, in the House of Lords in which he, at last, admitted the existence of spies. The following are extracts from this speech:—
"With the extraordinary intelligence system which Germany organised in this country long before the war, no doubt they had certain advantages which they ought not to have even of this kind.... If he were to harbour a suspicion it would be that the most formidable people were not aliens, but probably people of British nationality who had been suborned.... He wishes he were sure that when really valuable and dangerous pieces of information were given they were not given by people of our own nationality, but some of the information which had been given, could only have been given by people who had access to it because they were British. His belief was that we had had very little of this kind of thing, but that we had some, and that it was formidable he could not doubt. In seeking these sources of communication with the enemy it was desirable to go about the search in a scientific way, and to cast suspicion where it was most likely to be founded."
Such a contribution to the spy question was really very characteristic. It, however, came ill from one whose legal confrère was, at that moment, being referred to in the House of Commons as having a German chauffeur who had been naturalised after the war broke out, and had gone for a holiday into Switzerland! Switzerland is a country not in the Antarctic Ocean, but right on the border of the land of the Huns in Europe, and the Lord Chief Justice, according to Mr. Asquith at the Guildhall, is in close association with Cabinet Ministers in these days of crises.
Perhaps, as a correspondent pointed out, it never struck our Lord Chancellor that the Lord Chief Justice's "now-British" chauffeur might—though I hope not—have gone through Switzerland into Germany, and might, if so disposed, quite innocently have related there information to which he had access, not only because he was British, but because he was in the service of a highly-placed person. Or, perhaps, he did realise it, and his reference to information given by persons of British nationality was a veiled protest against the action of some of his colleagues—against that other who also has a "now-British" chauffeur, or to a third, whose German governess, married to a German officer, left her position early in November, but has left her German maid behind her. Perhaps he did not know these things, or he would also have known that other people may have access to information, not because they are British, but because they are in the employ of British Cabinet Ministers.
Hitherto, the security of our beloved Empire had been disregarded by party politicians, and their attendant sycophants, in their frantic efforts to "get-on" socially, and to pile up dividends. What did "The City" care in the past for the nation's peril, so long as money was being made?
In the many chats I had with the late Lord Roberts we deplored the apathy with which Great Britain regarded what was a serious and most perilous situation.
But, after all, were the British public really to blame? They are discerning and intelligent, and above all, patriotic. Had they been told the hideous truth, they would have risen in their masses, and men would have willingly come forward to serve and defend their country from the dastardly intentions of our hypocritical "friends" across the North Sea, and their crafty Emperor of the volte-face.
It is not the fault of the British public themselves. The blame rests as an indelible blot upon certain members of the British Government, who now stand in the pillory exposed, naked and ashamed. The apologetic speeches of certain members of the Cabinet, and the subdued and altered tone of certain influential organs of the Press, are, to the thinker, all-sufficient proof.
In the insidious form of fiction—not daring to write fact after my bitter experiences and the seal of silence set upon my lips—I endeavoured, in my novel "Spies of the Kaiser" and other books, time after time, to warn the public of the true state of affairs which was being so carefully and so foolishly hidden. I knew the truth, but, in face of public opinion, I dared not write it in other fashion.
Naturally, if the Government jeered at me, the public would do likewise. Yet I confess that very often I was filled with the deepest regret, and on the Continent I discussed with foreign statesmen, and with the Kings of Italy, Servia, Roumania and Montenegro in private audiences I was granted by them, what I dared not discuss in London.
Our national existence was certainly at stake. Lord Roberts knew it. He—with members of the Cabinet—had read the Kaiser's fateful words which I have here printed in the foregoing pages, and it was this knowledge which prompted him to so strenuously urge the peril of our unpreparedness until the outbreak of war.
The hypocrisy of the Kaiser is sufficiently revealed by the fact that two months after his declaration at the Secret Council at Potsdam he made a public speech at Strasburg on August 30th in which he assured the world that the peace of Europe was not in danger.
In the same month, however, that the German Emperor disclosed his secret intentions towards Great Britain, some important military manœuvres took place in Essex and were watched most closely by the German authorities. The spy-peril had then commenced. It would seem that the Kaiser took the keenest interest in the matter. Despite the fact that there was an officially accredited German military attaché, a number of German agents were also present, and among the number was Count Eulenburg, a Secretary of the German Embassy in London. A military correspondent of the Daily Mail wrote that the Count's taking of notes and making of sketches had excited a good deal of adverse criticism among the British officers who were familiar with the fact. The reports of all these secret agents were apparently to be laid before the Kaiser, who was well aware of the significance of the operations in Essex to both the German Army and Navy.
The only organ of the Press which recognised the spy-peril in its earliest stages was the Daily Mail, which never ceased to point out the imminent and serious danger, and to warn the public that Germany meant us harm. Because of this open policy, it was from time to time denounced by the deluded public—deluded because of official lies—for what was termed its "scaremongerings." But recent events have surely shown the world that that journal spoke the open truth, while all others, and more especially a certain dear old delightful London daily paper, so glibly told us that "there will be no war with Germany," while even three days before the outbreak of war this same journal actually made a plea for "German Culture."
Culture indeed! Have not the modern Huns now revealed themselves? What must readers of that paper now think? It has truly been said that the influence of the half-naked barbarians who swept over the Thuringian forests soon after the birth of Christianity has never been totally eradicated. There is, au fond, an inherent brutality in the German character which the saving grace of the art of music has never destroyed, the brutality which caused the destruction of Louvain, of Rheims, of Ypres, of Termonde, of Malines, the wreck of cathedrals and churches, and the wholesale savage butchery of innocent men, women, and even tiny children.
And this is the gallant and "cultured" nation which has been so admired and eulogised by certain well-known papers: the nation which has so cleverly spread its spies through every phase of our national life, and made such elaborate plans for her conquest that, in her arrogance, she has now risen to defy civilisation.
Here is one of many equally ridiculous extracts from that same journal which pleaded for "German culture." It was published after a Zeppelin had flown 610 miles, on January 1st, 1909:
" ... as far as national danger goes, the thing is not yet within sight. 'Dirigibles' may, in the future, be useful for scouting and collecting intelligence when war has once begun, ... but talk about invasion by airship, or bombardment from the sky, need not, for a long time, be considered by ourselves or any other nation."
Again, a few days later, this same pro-German journal wrote:—
"It is maintained by some of our contemporaries that Germany is struggling to regain her position of predominance in Europe, such as she held more than thirty years ago. That is not our reading of the situation."
I will not quote more. There are dozens of such expressions of opinions in the files of that unreliable organ of "public opinion."
Where should we have been to-day, I ask, had we suffered ourselves to be led by the nose by this "patriotic" organ of the Press, which, with its sinister commercialism on the declaration of war, urged upon us to keep out of the fighting, and to capture the trade of our friends the Belgians, French, and Russians?
This self-proclaimed organ of "humanitarianism" actually urged us to stand aside and make capital out of the agonies of those countries at war. I will quote the following from the article in its actual words on August the 4th—the day upon which war was declared:—
"If we remained neutral we should be, from the commercial point of view, in precisely the same position as the United States. We should be able to trade with all the belligerents (so far as the war allows of trade with them); we should be able to capture the bulk of their trade in neutral markets; we should keep our expenditure down; we should keep out of debt; we should have healthy finances."
And this same organ of humanitarianism has assured us, for years, that no spies of Germany existed in England, and that war was utterly out of the question. And the British public have paid their half-pennies for such bamboozle! One sighs to think of it!
Times without number—even to-day as I write—this journal has sought to ridicule those who attempt to tell the nation the truth concerning the underground peril existing in every part of our islands. Its motive for so doing may be left to the inquisitive.
Probably few men have travelled so constantly up and down Europe as I have done, in search of material for my books. In the course of my wanderings, and perhaps a somewhat erratic life on the Continent, I have—ever since I recognised the spy-peril—made it my practice to seek out the spies of Germany, and I know a good many of them.
An incident which may interest the reader occurred on October 29th, 1914:
I was on the platform of Waterloo Station buying a paper, and chatting with the bookstall clerk, when I noticed a group of men, mostly in shabby overcoats and presenting a woebegone appearance, surrounded by a cordon of police in silver-trimmed helmets—county constabulary from the North. An excited crowd had surrounded them, and as I glanced across my attention was attracted by a man slightly better dressed than the others, though his well-cut grey overcoat was somewhat shabby. As his dark, narrow-set eyes met mine, he lifted his grey plush hat to me, and smiled across in recognition.
For a moment I halted, puzzled. I had not realised that the group of men were prisoners. The fellow's face was familiar, and the next instant I recognised him. We had met a dozen times in various places in Europe—the last time at Salvini's, in Milan, early in the previous year. He was a well-known agent of the German General Staff, though I had never met him before on British soil.
I crossed over to him, arousing the distinct suspicion of the constables and the curiosity of the crowd of onlookers.
"You recollect me, Mr. Le Queux—eh?" he asked in good English, with a laugh.
"Of course," I said, for I could not help a grain of sympathy with him, for, usually a resident of the best hotels, he was now herded with the scum of his compatriots. "Well, what's the matter?"
"Matter!" he echoed. "You see! They've got me at last!"
"Speak French," I said in that language. "The police won't understand"; for the constable near him looked at me very suspiciously, and I had no desire to be arrested on Waterloo platform.
"Bien!" said my friend, whom I will call by his assumed name, von Sybertz, "I am arrested. It is the fortune of war! I am simply detained as an alien, and we are going to Frimley, I hear. Do not say anything; do not make it worse for me. That is all I ask, M'sieur Le Queux. You know me—too well—eh?" and he grinned.
"I shall say nothing," was my reply. "But, in return, tell me what you know. Tell me quickly," I urged, for I saw that the constables were preparing to move the prisoners towards the train. "What is the position?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Bad. My friends are frantic," he replied. "All their plans have gone wrong. It is, I fear, our downfall. The Kaiser is mad. I have no money. I came to England in the middle of August. I have been to Portsmouth, to Rosyth, Hull, and Liverpool; now I am deserted. I was arrested yesterday near Manchester, though I had registered as German and thought myself safe. I was, as I have always been when in England, a teacher of languages. It covers so much," and he smiled. "Is not this meeting strange, eh? We have chatted together—and laughed together, too—in Nice, Florence, Rome—in many places. And now, monsieur, you have the laugh of me—eh? We must be beaten. Germany begins to know the truth."
"No, not the laugh," I protested. "It is, as you say, the fortune of war that you have been taken."
"Pass on, please," commanded the big constable gruffly at my elbow.
"And you?—you will say nothing? Promise me, M'sieur Le Queux," von Sybertz urged again in French.
"I have promised," was my reply. "You are arrested—for me, that is sufficient. I wish you no ill-will, though you are my enemy," I added.
"Ah, yes, you are English!" exclaimed the spy. "I knew—I have known always that the English are gentlemen. Au revoir—and a thousand thanks for your promise."
And my friend the spy—a man who, on account of his refined and gentlemanly bearing, and the money which had, for years, been at his command, was a particularly dangerous secret-agent of the Kaiser—lifted his shabby grey hat politely, and then passed dolefully on, with the big constable at his elbow, to the train which stood waiting to convey him to that barbed-wire enclosure high upon Frith Hill.
I watched him pass out of my sight, while the crowd, on their part, watched me in wonder. I knew I had aroused the suspicions of the police by speaking in a foreign tongue. That meeting had been a strangely dramatic one. In those moments there came up before me visions of past meetings. Five years before, I had first known him living in a pretty white villa, with palms in front, on Mont Boron, outside Nice, and taking his lunch daily at the Reserve, at Beaulieu, one of the most expensive luncheon-places in Europe. I had met him in the Russie in Rome, in Doney's in Florence, and in the Pera Palace in Constantinople. He was a gay, merry companion, and half a dozen times I had been to variety theatres with him and to garish night-cafés afterwards. Yet I knew him to be a German international spy, and so intimate had we become that he had scarcely taken the trouble to conceal the fact from me.
In those few brief moments there had been enacted before me, at that busy London terminus, the dénouement of a great life-drama, and, as the spy disappeared, there arose before me recollections of the gay places of Europe where we had before met—the Rooms at Monte Carlo, the Casino at Trouville, and other places where he had been such a well-known figure, always exquisitely dressed, always the acme of correctness, and always a great favourite with the fair sex. What would the latter think could they see him now?
In silence and in sorrow I have watched the proceedings of many a German spy in this country—watched while the public have been lulled to slumber by those who rule. Ah! it has all been a fearful comedy, which has, alas! now ended in tragedy—the tragedy of our dead sons, brothers and husbands who lie in unnumbered graves in France and in Belgium.
My thoughts revert to individual cases which I have investigated during recent years.
At Rosyth, I lived in an obscure hotel in Queensferry under the name of William Kelly, enduring three weeks of wearisome idleness, boating up and down the Firth of Forth, and watching, with interest, the movements of two Germans. They had arrived in Edinburgh from a tourist-ship which had touched at Leith. The first suspicion of them had been conveyed to me by my friend Mr. D. Thomson, proprietor of the Dundee Courier, and I sped north to investigate. In passing I may say that this journal was one of the first—with the Daily Mail—to point out the danger of German spies. My journey was not without result, for I waited, I watched, and I returned to the Intelligence Department with certain important details which proved to be the beginning of a long campaign. Those two Germans, unsuspicious-looking professors with gold-rimmed spectacles, were making elaborate maps. But these maps were not ordnance maps, but maps of our weaknesses. Our secret agents followed them to Plymouth, to Milford Haven, to Cromarty, and afterwards on a tour through Ireland.
Surely it is betraying no confidence to say that one of our secret agents—a man whose remarkable career I hope to some day record in the guise of fiction—acted as their guide on that curious tour!
I know I have written times without number of spies in the form of fiction. Many people have asked me, "Is it true?" To such I will say that the dramas I have written, short and long, have been penned solely with one single purpose—in order to call public attention to our peril.
Many of the stories I have written have been based upon actual fact. Half a life spent in travelling up and down Europe has shown me most conclusively how cleverly Germany has, with the aid of her spies, made elaborate preparations to invade us.
So intimate have I been with Germany's secret agents that, during this last Christmas, I had the displeasure of sending Compliments of the Season to two of them!
I have dined at the Ritz in Paris on more than one occasion with the yellow-toothed old Baroness X——, an Austrian, high-born, smart, and covered with jewellery. With her she has usually one and sometimes two pretty "nieces," who speak French, and pose as French. Perhaps they are, but one may be forgiven if one is suspicious. The Baroness X—— always has on hand a goodly supply of these "nieces." I have met them at Doney's in Florence, at Ciro's at Monte Carlo, at Maxim's in Paris, at Shepheard's at Cairo. I have chatted with these young ladies at the Hotel Hungaria in Budapest, at the Royal at Dinard, at the Grand in Rome, and in the aviary at the Métropole at Brighton. But these merry little "nieces" are always different! Baroness X—— and myself are in entire agreement. She knows what I know, and she sent me a Christmas card this season and dated from The Hague! She is certainly the ugliest old lady I have ever met, a figure well known in every European capital. Her speech is like the filing of brass. As a linguist, however, she is really wonderful. I believe she speaks every European language perfectly, and Arabic too, for she once told me, while we were together on a steamer going down the Mediterranean, that she was born in Smyrna, of Austrian parents.
As a spy of Germany she is unique, and I give her her due. She is amazingly clever. To my certain knowledge, she and her nieces, two years ago, while living in Nice beneath the same roof as myself, obtained through a young artillery officer a remarkable set of plans of the defences of the Franco-Italian frontier near the Col di Tenda. Again, I know how she and her attendant couple of "nieces" were in Ireland "on a tour" during the troubles of last year. And, further, I also know how many a military secret of our own War Office has been "collected" by one or other of those pretty cigarette-smoking flapper "nieces," with whom I, too, have smoked cigarettes and chatted in French or Italian.
How often have I seen one or other of these sirens—daughters of a foreign countess as their dupes have believed them to be—driving about London in private cars or in taxis, or supping at restaurants.
On a day in last November I found one of these interesting young ladies, dark-haired and chic—Parisienne, of course—enjoying a tête-à-tête luncheon at the Hut at Wisley, on the Ripley road, her cavalier being a man in khaki. I wondered what information she was trying to obtain. Yet what could I do? How could I act, and interrupt such a perfectly innocent déjeuner à deux?
Yes, to the onlooker who knows, the manœuvres are all very intensely interesting, and would be most amusing, if they were not all so grimly and terribly tragic.
And who is to blame for all this? Would it be suffered in Germany?
The law of libel, and a dozen other different Acts, are suspended over the head of the unfortunate man who dares to risk ridicule and speak the truth. Therefore, with my own personal experience of the utter incapability of the Commissioner of Metropolitan Police to deal with spies, or even to reply to correspondence I have addressed to his hopeless department, and to the still greater discourtesy and amazing chaos existing in his ruling department, the Home Office, I ask myself whether it is of any use whatever to trouble, or even exert oneself further in the matter? It is for my readers, the public themselves, to demand the truth. The public are assuredly not blind to the fact that air raids have been made upon us directed by spies.
I can only address these serious words to my circle of readers throughout the Kingdom, and to make my bow, assuring them that while they were being gulled and bamboozled by those whom they have so foolishly trusted, I have, at personal loss to myself—which need not be counted—done my level best to counteract the evil which Germany has spread in our midst.
And my only request is that, by my works, constant and earnest as they have been, I may be judged.
UNDER THE KAISER'S THUMB
By every subtle and underhand means in her power Germany has prepared for her supreme effort to conquer us.
Armies of her spies have swarmed, and still swarm, over Great Britain, though their presence has been, and is even to-day, officially denied.
The method adopted at the outset was to scatter secret agents broadcast, and to allot to each the collection of certain information. Men, and women too, in all walks of life have made observations, prepared plans, noted the number of horses locally, the fodder supplies, the direction of telegraph-lines, the quickest method of destroying communications, blowing up tunnels, etc.; in fact, any information which might be of use in the event of a raid upon our shores.
Each group of spies has acted under the direction of a secret-agent, termed a "fixed post," and all have been, in turn, visited at periods varying from one month to six weeks by a person not likely to be suspected—usually in the guise of commercial-traveller, debt-collector, or insurance-agent, who collected the reports and made payments—the usual stipend being ten pounds per month. Some spies in the higher walks of life were, of course, paid well, as much as one thousand pounds a year being given in one case—that of a lady who, until recently, lived in Kensington—and in another to a German who, until a few weeks ago, was highly popular in the diplomatic circle. The chief bureau, to which all reports from England were sent, was an innocent-looking office in the Montagne de la Cour, in Brussels—hence Ostend was so often made a rendezvous between spies and traitors.
It is certainly as well that the authorities have already taken precautions to guard our reservoirs. As far back as five years ago, a large number of the principal water supplies in England were reconnoitred by a band of itinerant musicians, who, though they played mournful airs in the streets, were really a group of very wide-awake German officers. They devoted three months to the metropolis—where they succeeded in making a complete plan of the water-mains supplying East London—and then afterwards visited Manchester, Glasgow, Birmingham, Liverpool, Leeds, and Newcastle. At the latter place they were detected, and being warned by the authorities, fled. They were "warned" because at that time there was no Act to deal with them.
Just at this juncture a most fortunate incident occurred, though probably it will be met with an official denial. A young German who had been making observations around Rosyth and beneath the Forth Bridge, was detected, and fled. The police sought him out and he was compelled to again fly without paying his rent, leaving his suit-case behind. After a month the landlady took this bag to the police, who, on opening it, found a quantity of documents, which were sealed up and sent to London. They were soon found to be most instructive, for not only was there a list of names of persons hitherto unsuspected of espionage, but also a little book containing the secret code used by the spies! Needless to say, this has been of the greatest use to those engaged in the work of contra-espionage. Of the good work done by the latter, the public, of course, know nothing, but it may be stated that many a confidential report destined for Berlin was intercepted before it reached the spy's post-office, the shop of the barber Ernst, in London—to which I will later on refer—and many a judicious hint has been given which has caused the suspect to pack his, or her, belongings and return by the Hook of Holland route.
East Anglia has, of course, been the happy hunting ground of spies, and the counties of Lincoln, Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex have, long ago, been very thoroughly surveyed, and every preparation made for a raid. It was found—as far back as four years ago—that next door, or in the vicinity of most village post-offices near the coast-line of those counties, a foreigner had taken up his residence, that German hairdressers and jewellers were everywhere setting up shops where custom did not warrant it; that Germans took sea-side furnished houses or went as paying guests in the country, even in winter; while, of course, the number of German waiters—usually passing as Austrians—had increased greatly.
When the Kaiser rented Highcliffe Castle, in Hampshire, under the pretext that he was ill, he brought with him no fewer than thirty secretaries. Why? A foreigner who comes here to recuperate does not want thirty secretaries—even though he may be an Emperor! Napoleon never wanted such a crowd of scribblers about him.
But the truth was that these thirty secretaries were engaged with their Imperial master-spy in reorganising and perfecting the various sections of his amazing spy-system in this country—a system that the British Government were with culpable untruthfulness declaring only existed in the imagination of a novelist—myself. I wrote pointing out this, but only execrations again fell upon my unfortunate head. I was laughed at as a "sensationalist," scorned by the Party of Criminal Apathy, and a dead set was made at me by a certain section of the Press to jeer at, and crush myself and all my works into oblivion.
Let us go a step further. Mr. Anthony Nugent, who writes with considerable authority in the Globe, shall here speak.
"The oddest situation in England," he says, "was just before the outbreak of the war. We had then, not only an Ambassador's cloak in London covering Prince Lichnowsky, but a real Ambassador in Herr Kühlmann, Companion of the Victorian Order. [I wonder if he still wears the honourable insignia?] The Ambassador was an honest man, and believed that he had a free hand in trying to improve our relations with Germany. He was only here to give us 'taffy'—as the Yankees say. All his speeches at Oxford and at City banquets were sincere enough from his point of view, but he knew nothing of what was going on in the Chancelleries at Berlin, or downstairs in the Embassy residence at Carlton House Terrace.
"Those who descend the Duke of York's steps in Pall Mall, will see a common, unpretentious door on the right hand side, part of the way down. That was one of the entrances to the Embassy, and quite a different class of people used it from those gay folk who came boldly in motor-cars to the front door, which sported the decoration of the Imperial eagle. It was by the lower door there passed the principals in the espionage system, and it was in the lower rooms that Herr Kühlmann interviewed his 'friends.' He was a tall, good-looking man, with a specious suggestion of being straightforward and open dealing, but probably there never was so tortuous-minded a person at the Embassy. He was there for many years, and knew all who were worth knowing. He it was who furnished the reports on which the Emperor and the Crown Prince acted.
"Prince Lichnowsky, for instance, foresaw that in the event of war, the Unionists in Ulster would support the Government. Herr Kühlmann had sent over spies who masqueraded as journalists, and they came back from Belfast believing that civil war was inevitable. Herr Kühlmann accepted their view, and thus deceived the Kaiser and the German Chancellor. The same gentleman was much interested in the Indian movement, and I remember discussing with him the causes that led to the murder of a great Anglo-Indian official at the Imperial Institute. He was convinced that India was ripe for revolt. Again he deceived the Emperor on the subject. The German spy system was wide, and it was thorough, but its chief lacked imagination, and took niggling and petty views. In a word it is efficient in signalling, prying into arrangements, spreading false news, and securing minor successes, and that it can still do here, but had it realised how the whole world would be opposed to it, there would have been no war."
The gross licence extended to our alien enemies in peace-time has, surely, been little short of criminal. Fancy there having been a "German Officers' Club" in London, close to Piccadilly Circus! Could anyone imagine an "English Officers' Club" in Berlin—or in any other Continental capital, for the matter of that? In the first place, there would not have been a sufficient number of English officers to run a club, even if it had been allowed by the German authorities, which would have been most unlikely. But, on the other hand, there were enough German officers in London, not only to support a club, but to give a large and expensive ball not very long ago at a well-known West End hotel!
Germany has a large army, and a considerable navy, but is leave lavished with such prodigality on her officers as to make it worth their while to have a special club of their own in the metropolis? One can hardly imagine this to be the case. Why, then, were there so many German officers in London? We may be sure that they were not here for the benefit of our country. The German Officers' Club was no secret society, and was, therefore, winked at by the sleepy British authorities. The War Office may have argued that it enabled them to keep an eye on them, and there may be something in that plea. But what possible justification could have been found for allowing a considerable number of German officers to assemble near Southborough—between Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells—not so very long ago, and to carry out what practically amounted to a "Staff Ride" in the "Garden of England" over a very important strategic position? Fancy such a piece of espionage being attempted in Germany! It is even known that the German Ambassador dined with the officers in question.
Had the German Officers' Club been under observation, could this have possibly been done without the cognisance of the authorities? The authorities knew of all that was in progress, but calmly looked on, and, as usual, did nothing. The downfall of England was being plotted, but what did they care, so long as all went smoothly and they enjoyed their own social standing and their own emoluments.
There is an air of refreshing candour and simplicity in the official statement that no alien enemy is permitted to reside in a prohibited area without a special licence granted, after his case has been carefully examined, by the police.
Now, we know that proprietors and managers of hotels and licensed premises, as well as prominent residents, are usually on good terms with the police. It would surely be to their interest to cultivate good relations with them. And as the Lord Chancellor has assured us that the Germans are people of "greater astuteness," it is only reasonable to suppose they would be particularly careful to entrust their spying work in this country to only the smartest and most crafty emissaries.
One can imagine that a really clever German spy "bent on business" has had but very little difficulty in hoodwinking the honest man in blue, and obtaining from him the "permit" required for his signalling, or other work on the coast.
The experiences of the last four months at Liége, Antwerp, Mons, Rheims, Ypres, and other places, has taught us that it is not always the alien who is the spy. In each of those towns men who had lived for years as highly respectable and law-abiding citizens, and whom everyone believed to be French or Belgian, suddenly revealed themselves as secret agents of the invaders, acting as their guides, and committing all sorts of outrages.
In our own country it is the same. There are to-day many who have lived among us for years, and are highly respected, only waiting for the signal to be given to commence their operations.
It is true that bombs from German air machines have been dropped on English ground—one fell in a garden at Dover and damaged a cabbage, or maybe two—also that Zeppelins flew over Norfolk and dropped bombs, but so far no air fleet from Germany has given the signal for German spies to start their arranged work of destruction in our midst, for the enemy has declared with its usual cynical frankness that their army of spies will only start their dastardly work when all is ready for the raid and the fleet of Zeppelins sail over London and give the signal.
HOW SPIES WORK
The German spy system, as established in England, may be classified under various heads—military, naval, diplomatic, and also the agents provocateurs, those hirelings of Germany who have, of late, been so diligent in stirring up sedition in Ireland, and who, since the war began, have endeavoured, though not successfully, to engineer a strike of seamen at Liverpool and a coal strike.
First, every German resident in this country may be classed as a spy, for he is, at all times, ready to assist in the work of the official secret-agents of the Fatherland.
The military spy is usually a man who has received thorough instruction in sketching, photography, and in the drafting of reports, and on arrival here, has probably set up in business in a small garrison town. The trade of jeweller and watchmaker is one of the most favoured disguises, for the spy can rent a small shop, and though he cannot repair watches himself, he can engage an unsuspecting assistant to do so. Therefore, to all intents and purposes, his business is a legitimate one. If he is a devout church or chapel-goer, and subscribes modestly to the local charities, he will soon become known, and will quickly number among his friends some military men from whom he can obtain information regarding movements of troops, and a-thousand-and-one military details, all of which he notes carefully in his reports, the latter being collected by a "traveller in jewellery," who visits him at regular intervals, and who makes payment in exchange.
Every report going out of Great Britain is carefully tabulated and indexed by a marvellous system in Berlin. These, in turn, are compared, analysed and checked by experts, so that, at last, the information received is passed as accurate, and is then indexed for reference.
Now the military spy also keeps his eyes and ears open regarding the officers of the garrison. If an officer is in financial difficulties, the fact is sent forward, and some money-lender in London will most certainly come to his assistance and thus ingratiate himself as his "friend." Again, there are wives of officers who are sometimes a little indiscreet, and in more than one known case blackmail has been levied upon the unfortunate woman, and then, suddenly, an easy way out of it all has been craftily revealed to her by a blackguard in German pay.
From the wide-spread secret-service of Germany, nothing is sacred. The German General Staff laughs at our apathy, and boasts that it knows all about us, the military and civil population alike. In the archives of its Intelligence Department there are thousands upon thousands of detailed reports—furnished constantly throughout the past ten years—regarding the lives and means of prominent persons in England, with descriptions of their homes wherein, one day, the enemy hope to billet their troops.
These unscrupulous men who act as "fixed-posts"—and it is no exaggeration to say that there are still hundreds in England alone, notwithstanding all official assurances to the contrary—have all gone through an elaborate system of training in signalling, in reducing messages to code, and in decoding them, in map-making, in the use of carrier-pigeons, and, in some cases, in the use of secret wireless.
The naval spy works in a somewhat similar manner to his military colleague. At every naval port in Great Britain it is quite safe to assume that there are spies actively carrying on their work, though it is quite true that one or two, who have long been under suspicion, have now found it wise to disappear into oblivion. A favourite guise of the spy in a naval port is, it seems, to pose as a hairdresser, for in pursuance of that humble and most honourable calling, the secret agent has many opportunities to chat with his customers, and thus learn a good deal of what is in progress in both port and dockyard: what ships are putting to sea, and the strength and dispositions of various divisions of our navy. Cases in recent years of spies at Portsmouth, Chatham, and Plymouth have revealed how active Germany has been in this direction.
In one case, at Plymouth, a salary of £500 a year was offered to a Mr. Duff for information regarding naval matters, on the pretext that this information was required by a Naval and Military journal in Germany. Mr. Duff, however, communicated with the authorities, who promptly arrested the spy—a man named Schulz, who lived on a yacht on the river Yealm. He was tried at the Devon Assizes and, certain documents being found upon him, he was sentenced to a year and nine months' imprisonment. What, we wonder, would have been his fate if he had been British, and had been arrested in Germany?
Of diplomatic espionage little need be said in these pages. Every nation has its secret service in diplomacy, a service rendered necessary perhaps by the diplomatic juggling of unscrupulous representatives of various nations. Many diplomatic spies are women moving in the best society, and such persons abound in every capital in the world.
The means of communication between the spy and his employers are several. Innocent sketches may be made of woodland scenery, with a picturesque windmill and cottage in the foreground, and woods in the distance. Yet this, when decoded in Berlin—the old windmill representing a lighthouse, the trees a distant town, and so forth—will be found to be an elaborate plan of a harbour showing the disposition of the mines in its channel!
Again, there are codes in dozens of different forms of letters or figures with various combinations, key-numbers, cross-readings, etc. There is the three-figure code, the five-figure code, and so on, all of which, though difficult, can, if sufficient time be spent upon them, be eventually deciphered by those accustomed to dealing with such problems.
Far more difficult to decipher, however, are communications written as perfectly innocent ordinary correspondence upon trade or other matters, yet, by certain expressions, and by mentioning certain names, objects, or prices, they can be rightly read only by the person with whom those meanings have been prearranged.
From the daring movements of the German Fleet in the North Sea it would appear that, through spies, the enemy are well aware of the limit and position of our mine-fields, while the position of every buoy is certainly known. When the first attack was made upon Yarmouth, the enemy took his range from certain buoys, and the reason the shells fell short was that only the day before those buoys had been moved a mile further out to sea.
Again, for many years—indeed, until I called public attention to the matter—foreign pilots were allowed to ply their profession in the Humber, and by that means we may rest assured that Germany made many surveys of our East Coast.
The spies of Germany are to be found everywhere, yet the Home Office and the police have shown themselves quite incapable of dealing effectively with them. The War Office, under the excellent administration of Lord Kitchener, has surely been busy enough with military matters, and has had no time to deal with the enemy in our midst. Neither has the Admiralty. Therefore the blame must rest upon the Home Office, who, instead of dealing with the question with a firm and drastic hand, actually issued a communiqué declaring that the spy peril no longer existed!
As an illustration of Germany's subtle preparations in the countries she intends to conquer, and as a warning to us here in Great Britain, surely nothing can be more illuminating than the following, written by a special correspondent of the Times with the French Army near Rheims. That journal—with the Daily Mail—has always been keenly alive to the alien peril in England, and its correspondent wrote:—
"Nowhere else in France have the Germans so thoroughly prepared their invasion as they did in Champagne, which they hoped to make theirs. In the opinion of the inhabitants of Épernay, the saving of the town from violent pillage is only due to the desire of the Germans not to ravage a country which they regarded as being already German soil. The wanton bombardment of Rheims is accepted almost with delight, as being a clear indication that the enemy has been awakened by the battle of the Marne from those pleasant dreams of conquest which inflamed the whole German nation with enthusiasm at the outset of the war.
"The spy system thought out in time of peace in preparation for what is happening to-day has served Germany well, and every day the accuracy of German gunfire pays a tribute to the zeal and efficiency with which these loathsome individuals accomplish a task for which they have sold their honour as Frenchmen. Hardly a week passes without some fresh discovery being made. At the headquarters of the different army corps along this section of the front, hardly a day passes without the arrest and examination of suspect peasants or strangers from other provinces. Elaborate underground telephone installations have been discovered and destroyed.
"One day a gendarme who wished to water his horse approached a well in the garden of an abandoned house. At the bottom of the well there was not truth but treason. Comfortably installed in this disused shaft a German spy was engaged in making his report by telephone to the German Intelligence Department.
"The mentality of the spy can never be explained, for how can one account for the mixture of the fine quality of bravery and the despicable greed of money which will keep a man in a city like Rheims, exposed every hour of the day and night to death from the splinter of a shell fired at the town by his own paymasters? I do not suggest for a moment that of the 20,000 people who still inhabit the town of Rheims and its cellars there is any large proportion of traitorous spies, but to the French Intelligence Department there is no question whatsoever that there is still a very efficient spying organisation at work in the city."
Among us here in Great Britain, I repeat, are men—hundreds of them—who are daily, nay hourly, plotting our downfall, and are awaiting the signal to act as the German General Staff has arranged that they shall act. To attempt to disguise the fact longer is useless. We have lived in the fool's paradise which the Government prepared for us long enough. We were assured that there would be no war. But war has come, and thousands of the precious lives of our gallant lads have been lost—and thousands more will yet be lost.
We cannot trust the German tradesman who has even lived long among us apparently honourable and highly respected. A case in point is that of a man who, for the past twenty-six years, has carried on a prosperous business in the North of London. At the outbreak of war he registered himself as an alien, and one day asked the police for a permit to travel beyond the regulation five miles in order to attend a concert. He was watched, and it was found that, instead of going to the concert, he had travelled in an opposite direction, where he had met and conferred with a number of his compatriots who were evidently secret agents. This is but one illustration of many known cases in the Metropolis.
Can we still close our eyes to what Germany intends to do? The Government knew the enemy's intentions when, in 1908, there was placed before them the Emperor's speech, which I have already reproduced.
Perhaps it may not be uninteresting if I recount how I myself was approached by the German General Staff—and I believe others must have been approached in a like manner. The incident only serves to show the "astuteness"—as Lord Haldane has so well put it—of our enemies.
One day, in September, 1910, I received through a mutual friend, a lady, an invitation to dine at the house of a prominent official at the War Office, who, in his note to me, declared that he had greatly admired my patriotism, and asked me to dine en famille one Sunday evening. I accepted the invitation, and went. The official's name, I may here say, figures often in your daily newspapers to-day. To my great surprise, I found among the guests the German Ambassador, the Chancellor of the Embassy, the Military and Naval Attachés with their ladies, and several popular actors and actresses.
In a corner of the drawing-room after dinner, I found myself chatting with a German Attaché, who turned the conversation upon my anti-German writings. By his invitation, I met him at his club next day. He entertained me to an expensive luncheon, and then suddenly laughed at me for what he termed my misguided propaganda.
"There will be no war between your country and mine," he assured me. "You are so very foolish, my dear Mr. Le Queux. You will ruin your reputation by these fixed ideas of yours. Why not change them? We desire no quarrel with Great Britain, but we, of course, realise that you are doing what you consider to be your duty."
"It is my duty," I responded.
My diplomatic friend sucked at his cigar, and laughed.
"As a literary man you, of course, write to interest the public. But you would interest your public just as easily by writing in favour of Germany—and, I tell you that we should quickly recognise the favour you do us—and recompense you for it."
I rose from my chair.
I confess that I grew angry, and I told him what was in my mind.
I gave him a message to his own Secret Service, in Berlin, which was very terse and to the point, and then I left the room.
But that was not all. I instituted inquiries regarding the official at the War Office who had been the means of introducing us, and within a fortnight that official—whose dealings with the enemy were proved to be suspicious—was relieved of his post.
I give this as one single instance of the cunning manner in which the German Secret Service have endeavoured to nobble and bribe me, so as to close my mouth and thus combat my activity.
Another instance was when the Norddeutscher Lloyd Line, of Bremen, kindly invited me to take a voyage round the world, free of expense, so that I might visit the various German colonies and write some descriptions of them. And, on a third occasion, German diplomats were amazingly kind to me, both in Constantinople and in Belgrade, and again broadly hinted at their readiness to win me over to their side.
How pitiable, how absolutely criminal our apathy has been!
Do not the souls of a million dead upon the battlefields of France and Belgium rise against the plotters to-day? Does not the onus of the frightful loss of the flower of our dear lads lie, not upon our four-hundred-a-year legislators, but upon some of the golfing, dividend-seeking, pushful men who have ruled our country through the past ten years?
Without politics, as I am, I here wish to pay a tribute—the tribute which the whole nation should pay—to Mr. Lloyd George and his advisers, who came in for so much adverse criticism before the war. I declare as my opinion—an opinion which millions share—that the manner in which the Chancellor of the Exchequer faced and grappled with the financial situation at the outbreak of war, was an illustration of British pluck, of coolness and of readiness that is unequalled in our history. The poor suffered nothing, and to-day—even though we are struggling for our very existence—we hear not a word of that winter-cry "The Unemployed."
I trust, therefore, that the reader will find my outspoken criticisms just, and perfectly without prejudice, for, as I have already stated, my only feeling is one of pure patriotism towards my King and the country that gave me birth.
Though I am beyond the age-limit to serve in the Army, it is in defence of my King and country, and in order to reveal the naked truth to a public which has so long been pitiably bamboozled and reassured, that I have ventured to pen this plain, serious, and straightforward indictment, which no amount of official juggling can ever disprove.
SOME METHODS OF SECRET AGENTS
Some of the cases of espionage within my own knowledge—and into many of them I have myself made discreet inquiry—may not prove uninteresting. Foreign governesses, usually a hard-worked and poorly-paid class, are often in a position to furnish important information, and very serious cases have recently been proved against them. These young women have lived in the intimacy of the homes of men of every grade, Cabinet Ministers, Members of Parliament, financiers, officers of both Services, and officials of every class. By the very nature of their duties, and their extreme intimacy with their employers, they are, naturally, in a position to gather much valuable information, and often even to get sight of their employers' correspondence, which can easily be noted and handed over to the proper quarter for transmission to Berlin.
Here is a case already reported by me. Not very long ago, in the service of a very well-known Member of Parliament living in Essex, lived a clever, good-looking, and intensely musical young German governess, who was regarded by the Member's wife as "a perfect treasure," and who took the greatest interest in her two little charges. For over two years Fräulein had been in the service of this pleasant household, being, of course, regarded as "one of the family."
In the grounds of the big country house in question was a secluded summer-house, and here Fräulein was in the habit of reading alone, and writing her letters. One hot summer's afternoon she had gone there as usual, when about an hour later one of the under-gardeners, in passing, saw her lying back in her chair unconscious. She had been seized with a fit. He raised the alarm, she was carried back to the house, and the doctor was at once telephoned for.
Meanwhile her mistress, greatly alarmed, went out to the summer-house in order to see whether her unconsciousness could be accounted for. Upon the table she noticed a number of documents which did not appear to be letters which a governess might receive, and, on examination, she found to her dismay that, not only were they carefully-written reports of conversations between her husband and a certain Cabinet Minister who had been their guest during the previous week-end, but there were also copies of several confidential letters from one of the Government departments to her husband. That the girl was a clever and most dangerous spy was at once proved, yet, rather than there should be any unpleasant publicity, the girl was, that same night, packed off unceremoniously across to the Hook of Holland.
In another instance a German governess in the employ of an officer's wife at Chatham was discovered endeavouring to obtain confidential information; and in a third, at Plymouth, a charming young lady was caught red-handed.
These three glaring cases are within my own knowledge; therefore, there probably have been many others where, after detection, the girls have been summarily dismissed by their employers, who, naturally, have hesitated to court publicity by prosecution.
It therefore behoves everyone employing a foreign governess—and more especially anyone occupying an official position—to be alert and wary. Many of these young ladies are known to have been trained for the dastardly work which they have been so successfully carrying out, and, while posing as loyal and dutiful servants of their employers, and eating at their tables, they have been listening attentively to their secrets.
We have, of late, been told a good deal of the danger of secret agents among the alien staffs of hotels, and, in deference to public opinion, the authorities have cleared our hotels of all Germans and Austrians. Though holding no brief for the alien servant, I must say, at once, that I have never known one single instance of a hotel servant of lower grade being actually proved to be a secret agent. It is a fact, however, that among the hall-porters of some of the principal hotels were, until the outbreak of war, several well-known spies. The class of person who is much more dangerous is the so-called "naturalised" alien. Among these are, no doubt, spies, men who have long ago taken out naturalisation papers for the sole purpose of blinding us, and of being afforded opportunities to pursue their nefarious calling. To-day, while thousands of men who have for years worked hard for a living are in idleness in detention camps, these gentry are free to move about where they will because they are so-called British subjects.
Surely the heart of a German is always German, just as the heart of a true-born Briton is always British, whatever papers he may sign. I contend that every German who has been "naturalised" during the last seven years should be treated as other aliens are treated, and we should then be nearer the end of the spy-peril.
"Naturalised" foreign baronets, financiers, merchants, ship-owners, and persons of both sexes of high social standing, constitute a very grave peril in our midst, though Mr. McKenna has not yet appeared to have awakened to it, even though the Press and the public are, happily, no longer blind to the German preparations. In the month of November, while spies were being reported in hundreds by the public themselves, the Home Office was actually engaged in holding an inquiry into whether there had really been any atrocities committed by the German soldiery in Belgium! And I was officially asked to assist in this!
As far as can be gathered from Mr. McKenna's reply in November to the Parliamentary attack on the methods of dealing with the spy peril, the position was still a most unsatisfactory one. Though he admitted that we still have 27,000 enemy aliens at large among us, nobody is assumed to be a spy unless he is an unnaturalised German. Even if he fulfils this condition, he is then to be caught "in the act" of spying, or if really strong suspicion be aroused, some evidence against him may be "looked for." But until this is "found," and so long as he complies with the posted-up registration orders, etc., he may continue unmolested. In short, after the steed is stolen, our stable door may be shut.
One sighs in despair. Could anything be more hopeless? If the matter were not so very serious, the position would be Gilbertian in its comedy.
Though we are at war, our sons being shot down and our national existence threatened, yet there is yet another very strong factor in favour of the German spy. According to Mr. McKenna, he himself is only responsible for the London district, while elsewhere the County Constabulary, under the Chief Constables of Counties, are "to pay every attention to representations of the naval and military authorities," in the matter of hostile espionage.[2]
This strikes me as one of the finest examples of "how not to do it" that we have heard of for some time, and it must indeed be a source of delight to the secret "enemy within our gates." Fancy such a ridiculous regulation in Germany!
Of some of the hundreds of cases of undoubted espionage which have been brought to my notice since the outbreak of war, I will enumerate a few.
One was that of two Germans who—posing as Poles—rented a large country house at £150 a year, bought a quantity of furniture, and settled down to a quiet life. The house in question was situated at a very important point on the main London and North Western Railway, and the grounds ran down to a viaduct which, if destroyed, would cut off a most important line of communication. The suspicion of a neighbour was aroused. He informed the police, and a constable in full uniform began to make inquiries of the neighbours, the result being that the interesting pair left the house one night, and have not since been seen.
Outside London, the county constabulary are making praiseworthy efforts to find spies, but when men in uniform set out to make inquiries—as they unfortunately do in so many cases—then the system becomes hopeless.
The same thing happened in a small coast town in Norfolk where signalling at night had been noticed. Indeed, in two instances in the same town, and again in Dunbar, the appearance of the police inspector caused the flight of the spies—as undoubtedly they were.
As regards the county of Norfolk, it has long received the most careful attention of German secret agents. At the outbreak of war the Chief Constable, Major Egbert Napier, with commendable patriotism, devoted all his energies to the ferreting out of suspicious characters, spies who were no doubt settled near and on the coast in readiness to assist the enemy in case of an attempted landing. By Major Napier's untiring efforts a very large area has been cleared, more especially from Cromer along by Sheringham, Weybourne—a particularly vulnerable point—and from Cley-next-the-Sea to Wells and King's Lynn.
Major Napier engaged, at my instigation, a well-known detective-officer who, for some years, had been engaged at the Criminal Investigation Department at New Scotland Yard, specially attached to deal with German criminals for extradition back to Germany. He was a Russian, naturalised English, and spoke German perfectly, being born in Riga—and an ideal officer to inquire into the whole German spy system in Norfolk.
Well, after Major Napier had asked him to go forth on his mission, I saw him and wished him all success. Within a fortnight this shrewd officer returned to me with a hopeless story. Wherever he went the Coastguard refused to tell him anything, or any of their suspicions, as they said they were sworn to secrecy, while the superintendents and inspectors of the Norfolk Constabulary—with few exceptions—even though he bore proper credentials signed by the Chief Constable himself, actually refused to give him any assistance or information whatsoever!
This keen and clever detective-officer returned to the Chief Constable of Norfolk and told him that he was certain spies still existed along the coast, but expressed regret at the hopeless state of affairs.
If any Government authority would like to question the officer upon his experiences, I shall be pleased to furnish that department with his private address.
I had a curious experience myself in Norfolk.
In a field, high upon the cliff between Cromer and Runton, I last year established a high-power wireless installation. When in working order—with a receiving range of 1,500 miles or more, according to atmospheric conditions—I allowed visitors to inspect it. There came along certain inquisitive persons with a slight accent in their speech, and of these I believe no fewer than eight are now interned. It formed quite an interesting trap for spies!
From the great mass of authentic reports of German spies lying before me as I write, it is difficult to single out one case more illuminating than another.
It may perhaps be of interest, however, to know that I was the first to report to the authorities a secret store of German arms and ammunition in London, afterwards removed, and subsequently seized after the outbreak of war. Other stores have, it is said, been found in various parts of the country, the secrets of which, of course, have never been allowed to leak out to the public, for fear of creating alarm.
That secret stores of petrol, in readiness for that raid upon us by Zeppelins which Germany has so long promised, have been thought to exist in Scotland, is shown by the reward of £100, offered by the Commander-in-Chief in Scotland for any information leading to the discovery of any such bases.
But in connection with this, the situation is really most ludicrous. Though, on November 8th, 1914, a London newspaper reproduced a copy of the poster offering the reward—a poster exhibited upon hoardings all over Scotland—yet the Press Censor actually issued to the London Press orders to suppress all fact or comment concerning it! We may surely ask why? If Scotland is told the truth, why may not England know it?
Between Rye and Winchelsea of late, on four occasions, people have been detected flashing lights from the most seaward point between those places to German submarines. In fact, two of the spies actually had the audacity to build a shanty from which they signalled! This matter was promptly reported by certain residents in the locality to the Dover military authorities, but they replied that it was "out of their division." Then they reported to the Admiralty, but only received the usual typewritten "thanks" in these terms:—
"The Director of the Intelligence Division presents to Mr. —— his compliments, and begs to acknowledge with thanks the receipt of his letter of ——.
"Admiralty War Staff: Intelligence Division."
Now what happened?
Early in the morning of December 10th, in the midst of a thick hazy rain, half-a-dozen German submarines are reported to have made a daring dash for the western entrance of Dover Harbour, where several of our warships were lying at anchor. Fortunately they were discovered by men working the searchlights, heavy guns were turned upon them, and one submarine, if not more, was sunk. We have to thank spies in the vicinity for this attempt, in which we so narrowly escaped disaster. If not through spies, how could the enemy have known that, just at the time the attack was made, Dover was without its boom-defence? And the question arises whether the spies were those detected near Rye?
In all probability there exists somewhere in the neighbourhood a secret wireless station sufficiently powerful to send intelligence say five miles to sea by day, and double that distance at night. By this means the enemy's submarines could easily learn the truth. Therefore the authorities should lose no time in making domiciliary visits to any house where a suspect may be living.
And if secret wireless exists near Dover, then there may be—as there probably are, since small wireless stations are not costly to fit up, and could, till the outbreak of war, be purchased without arousing the least suspicion—other stations in the vicinity of other of our naval bases, the peril of which will easily be recognised.
The replies by the Admiralty to persons who give information are curt and unsatisfactory enough, yet if a resident in the Metropolitan area writes to the Chief Commissioner of Police upon a serious matter concerning espionage—he will not even receive the courtesy of a reply! At least, that has been my own experience. It is appalling to think that the authorities are so utterly incapable of dealing with the situation to-day, even though our men are laying down their lives for us, and fighting as only Britons can fight.
Existence of carefully-prepared concrete emplacements, in readiness for the huge German Krupp guns, has been reported to me from a dozen different quarters—sometimes they are concealed in the form of a concrete carriage-drive, in others as a tennis-court, or a yard enclosed by stables. Workmen who have actually been employed in laying them down, and have given me the enormous thicknesses of the concrete used, have communicated with me, and indicated where these long-considered preparations of the enemy are to-day to be found.
But as it is nobody's business, and as Mr. McKenna has assured us that we are quite safe, and that the spy-peril has been snuffed-out, the position is here again hopeless, and we are compelled to live daily upon the edge of a volcano.
Oh! when will England rub her eyes and awaken?
As events have proved in Belgium and France, so here, in our own dear country, I fear we have spies in every department of the public service. I say boldly, without fear of contradiction—that if our apathetic Home Department continues to close its eyes as it is now doing, we shall be very rudely stirred up one day when the Zeppelins come in force—as the authorities fear by the darkening of London. From the lessons taught us in France, I fear that in every department of our public services, the post-office, the railways, the docks, the electric generating-stations, in our arsenals, in our government factories, and among those executing certain government contracts—everywhere, from Wick to Walmer—the spy still exists, and he is merely awaiting the signal of his masters to strike: to blow up bridges and tunnels, to destroy water-supplies, docks, power-stations and wireless-stations: to cut telegraphs and telephones, and to create panic—a sudden and fearful panic—which it would be to the interest of the invaders to create.
At my suggestion the Postmaster-General, at the outbreak of war, ordered each letter-carrier in the Kingdom to prepare lists of foreigners on their "walk," and upon those lists hundreds of arrests of aliens took place. No doubt many spies were "rounded-up" by this process, but alas! many still remain, sufficient of the "naturalised,"—even those "naturalised" after the war,—to form a very efficient advance-guard to our invading enemy, who hate us with such a deadly, undying hatred.
If Zeppelins are to raid us successfully they must have secret bases for the supply of petrol for their return journey. Such bases can only be established in out-of-the-way places where, on descending, air-craft would not be fired upon. The moors, those of Yorkshire, Dartmoor, and certain districts of Scotland and the Lake Country, are admirably adapted for this purpose, for there are spots which could easily be recognised from the air—by the direction of the roads, running like ribbons across the heather—where considerable stores could easily be secreted without anyone being the wiser.
This is a petrol war, and if any raid is attempted upon the country, petrol will be wanted in great quantities by the enemy. Is it not, therefore, with our knowledge of Germany's long-completed preparations at Maubeuge, Antwerp, along the heights of the Aisne, and in other places, quite safe to assume that considerable—even greater—preparations have already been made in our own country—made in the days when the British public were lulled to sleep by the Judas-like assurances of the Kaiser and his friendly visits to our King, and when any honest attempt to lift the veil was met with abuse and derision. If we assume that preparations have been made, it is, surely, our duty to now discover them.
Petrol and ammunition are the two things which the enemy will want if they dare to attempt a dash upon our coast. Therefore it would be very wise for the authorities to make a house-to-house visitation, and search from garret to cellar all premises until lately occupied by aliens in the Eastern Counties, and all houses still occupied by "naturalised" foreigners, who, if they were honestly "British subjects" as they declare, could not possibly object.
There are many licensed premises, too, held by the "naturalised," and the cellars of these should certainly be searched. Hundreds of "naturalised" Germans and Austrians are living—immune from even suspicion. They are of all grades, from watchmakers and hotel-keepers to wealthy financiers.
If only the Government would deal with the "naturalised," as any sane system of Government would in these unparalleled circumstances, then it would give a free hand to the Chief Constables of Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, and Kent to clear out, once and for ever, the canker-worm of espionage which has, alas! been allowed to eat so very nearly into Britain's heart.
I am not affected by that disease known as spy-mania. I write only of what I know, of what I have witnessed with my own eyes and have heard with my own ears.
I therefore appeal most strongly, with all my patriotism, to the reader, man or woman, to pause, to reflect, to think, and to demand that justice shall, at this crisis of our national life, be done.
We want no more attempts to gag the Press, no evasive speeches in the House—no more pandering to the foreign financier or bestowing upon him Birthday Honours: no more kid-gloved legislation for our monied enemies whose sons, in some cases, are fighting against us, but sturdy, honest and deliberate action—the action with the iron-hand of justice in the interests of our own beloved Empire.