Chapter 3

FOOTNOTES:[2]Even at this moment of our peril, it is doubtful if the public will find at New Scotland Yard a single detective able to pass himself off as a German and thus be in a position to make close investigation. There are, certainly, several who speak German, but in a dozen words they betray their British nationality. Surely the police cannot hope for good results without possessing agents competent to carry out what is a difficult and delicate task. The Extradition Department is no longer what it was under Chief-Inspector Greenham.

FOOTNOTES:

[2]Even at this moment of our peril, it is doubtful if the public will find at New Scotland Yard a single detective able to pass himself off as a German and thus be in a position to make close investigation. There are, certainly, several who speak German, but in a dozen words they betray their British nationality. Surely the police cannot hope for good results without possessing agents competent to carry out what is a difficult and delicate task. The Extradition Department is no longer what it was under Chief-Inspector Greenham.

CHAPTER VII

MASTER-SPIES AND THEIR CUNNING

Weshall probably never be able to realise a hundredth part of what Germany has done by her spy system, but we know enough to realise that, for years, no country and no walks of life—from the highest to the lowest—have been free from the presence of her ubiquitous and unscrupulous secret agents. Nothing in the way of espionage has been too large, or too small, for attention.

Her spies have swarmed in all cities, and in every village; her agents have ranked among the leaders of social and commercial life, and among the sweepings and outcasts of great communities. The wealthiest of commercial men have not shrunk from acting as her secret agents. She has not been above employing beside them the very dregs of the community. No such a system has ever been seen in the world; I hope it is safe to say that no such system will ever be seen again. Indeed, so despicable is this German spy system that even the leader of the Opposition in the Reichstag, Herr Richter, one day rose from his seat and protestedagainst "the more than doubtful morality of the individuals employed." This protest was made because it was known that the Secret Service of Germany countenanced rank immorality and vice, the suborning of high officials, and the shameless engagement of women of ill-fame in the search for information. The official feeling in Germany concerning such debased methods was well illustrated by the reply of Herr Von Puttkamer, the Minister for the Interior, who said:—

"It is the right and duty of the State to employ special and extraordinary methods, and even if that honest and estimable functionary, Police-Councillor Rumpff, has employed the methods of which he is accused, in order to secure for the State the benefits of useful intelligence, I here publicly express to him my satisfaction and thanks."

That statement is certainly informing. It reveals to us the low, vile methods of our enemies.

The German spy system, as we know it to-day, is the creation of one Carl Stieber, and it dates back to about the year 1850.

Stieber, who was an obscure Saxon, began his career of espionage by betraying the revolutionary Socialists, with whom he pretended to sympathise, and so successful was he in this respect that he very soon obtained employment among the regular police, and was afterwards created head of a departmentwhich finally worked quite independently, and was beyond police control.

Stieber could never have achieved the success he did but for the luck or good management which, during his work among the revolutionaries, brought him to the notice of Frederick William, the King of Prussia. Under the royal patronage he was secure against counter-plotters among the military and the police, both of whom hated him beyond measure as an interloper who was seen to be dangerous to their interests. Up to this time, it should be remembered, the game of espionage, so far as military matters were concerned, had been a matter solely for the military authorities, and they did not fail to resent the new influence, which very speedily threatened to make itself all-powerful—as, indeed, it ultimately did—in this particular field of Prussian activity.

It must not be supposed that Stieber—upon whose model the Russian Secret Police was afterwards established—confined his activities to either the enemies or the criminals of Prussia. He established a close watch on persons even of high rank, and many a tit-bit of information went to regale the mind of his royal master. In a sense, Frederick William was, like the modern Kaiser, the master-spy, for without his confidence Stieber could never have achieved the success he did, against both the military and the police, influences which, even in those days, werealmost, but not quite, all-powerful in Germany.

Stieber's greatest achievement in the field of actual spying was his work which led to the crushing of Austria at Sadowa in 1866. At this he laboured for years, and it is not too much to say that his work assured the success of the campaign. By the time the Prussian armies were on the move, Stieber had established such an army of spies and agents throughout Bohemia, that it was a matter of absolute impossibility for the unfortunate Austrians to make a single move without information being promptly carried to their enemies.

So successful was Stieber's method found, that it was only natural that it should be tried in other countries. France was the next victim, and the campaign of 1870-71 is so recent that it is hardly necessary to do more than remind the reader how thoroughly the Germans were served by their spy system.

As in the present war, the advancing Germans found, in every town and village, swarms of agents who were ready to provide them with information and guidance, and it was even said that the German invaders were better acquainted with the country they were attacking than were the officers entrusted with its defence. We have seen the same thing in the present war, when time after time the Germans have been led into towns and districts by men who have lived therefor years and, in many cases, had even become naturalised Frenchmen the better to carry on their work. It speaks volumes for the perfection of the German military machine that, on the outbreak of hostilities, these men should have been able, without the slightest difficulty, to join the corps operating in the districts with which they had become perfectly familiar by years of residence.

And they were able, not merely to give topographical information, but even to indicate where stores of food and petrol could be found, and to point out to their comrades where the best prospects of loot and plunder existed.

All this was merely a natural development of the system which Carl Stieber established, and which his successors have developed to the highest pitch of unscrupulous perfection.

After the war of 1870-71, the system which Stieber invented found its place in German administration, and it has continued ever since as a separate and highly-organised department, spending vast sums of money—about £720,000 a year—and extending its ramifications to an incredible extent. It may be mentioned, incidentally, that its workings and methods have been copied by the German commercial world, and many a British employer has, during the past few years, paid dearly through his closest commercial secrets being given away to his keenest German rivals by the patient, diligentand hard-working German clerk, who was willing to work for a mere pittance for the advantage of "learning English" and studying British methods.

There cannot now be the slightest doubt that thousands of these German employees were, before the war, really in the pay of German firms, and were busily engaged in sending to Germany all the information they could possibly pick up which would tend to help the German and injure the British merchant and manufacturer.

I hope they have over-reached themselves, and that when the war is over we shall see a great deal less of the English worker being supplanted by spying Germans, whose apparent cheapness has been the costliest labour Englishmen have ever employed.

"Never trust or employ a German, and always make him pay cash" ought to be the British commercial motto for the future.

Stieber died in the early nineties, but he was succeeded by others quite as clever, and even more unscrupulous than himself, some of whom—though by no means all—have become faintly known to us through the revelations made in the too few cases of espionage where prosecution has been undertaken by our sleepy authorities. I say "very few," of course, in the comparative meaning of the phrase. Actually, there have been a fair number of cases, but when we consider the slyness of German methods we must cometo the conclusion that not a fraction of the whole have been dealt with, in spite of the amusing claim of Mr. McKenna that he has succeeded in smashing the German spy organisation in this country. Our leniency in this respect is a matter of amazement to people in France, and other countries where, from bitter experience, the German spy-peril is better understood, and it is also a matter of some resentment. Every blow at England, it is argued, injures the cause of the Allies as a whole, and the worst blows are likely enough to be struck by the undetected and unpunished spy.

In almost every case of espionage in England in recent years, the name of Steinhauer, "of Potsdam," has figured prominently. He is, at the moment, the chief of the Kaiser's spy-system, and there is no doubt that he fully enjoys the confidence and friendship of his royal master.

Steinhauer—as he is known to our Secret Service—is an officer in the Prussian Guard, and is about forty years of age. Personally, he is a man of charming manners, of splendid education, and of excellent presence, capable of taking his place—as he has frequently done—in the very best society. Steinhauer—the man of a hundred aliases—acting under the direct instructions of the Kaiser, and with the closest support and co-operation of the German military authorities, established in England such a network of naval andmilitary spies as, when it was tardily discovered, fairly made our authorities aghast.

The allegations I have made in these pages are borne out by Mr. McKenna's own admission, that hardly anything was done in the matter until about the year 1911; yet, as I have indicated, long before this the Germans were actually plotting war against England, and were preparing for it and looking forward to the day when they might hope to wage it with every prospect of success.

The following extract from a public statement by the Home Secretary is worth quoting. It will be noticed that Steinhauer's name is not mentioned, but there is no doubt that he was the head of the organisation of which the Home Secretary speaks.

Mr. McKenna stated in his remarkable and somewhat ludicrous communiqué of October 9th, 1914:—

"The Special Intelligence Department ... was able in three years, from 1911 to 1913, to discover the ramifications of the German Secret Service in England. In spite of enormous effort and lavish expenditure by the enemy, little valuable information fell into their hands.... There is good reason to believe that the spy organisation, crushed at the outbreak of the war, has not been re-established.... How completely that system had been suppressed in the early days of the war is clear from the fact disclosed in a German Army Order—that on 21st August the German military commanders were ignorant of the dispatch and movements of the British Expeditionary Force, although these had been known for many days to a large number of people in this country."

Such an attempt as this to lull us into a false sense of security was little short of criminal.

If not from spies, asked a correspondent of theGlobe, from whom did Germany obtain, in 1912, the very valuable information that oil was to be the sole source of motive power for the "Queen Elizabeth" (v.Taschenbuch der Kriegsflotten, January, 1913)? Certainly not from any English official source; for we were kept entirely in the dark as to this momentous change until theMorning Postannounced in July, 1913, that the battleship in question would consume liquid fuel only. Even minor details did not escape the notice of German spies during the period specified by Mr. McKenna. For instance, theTaschenbuchfor 1914 contains this statement:—

"'Hermes,' at present tender to air-craft, and as such only carries eight 6in. guns."

Yet it was not until the "Hermes" had been sunk in the Channel by a German submarine, that any official statement was made as to how she had been employed and her armament reduced!

Again, there is irrefutable evidence to show that German agents were ready waiting in France for the disembarkation of at least some details of the British Expeditionary Force, and the whole world knows that the German Emperor's insolent reference to Sir John French's Army was madebefore August 21st.

Further evidence of the activity of German spies before and since the outbreak of the war is to be found in the following extract from a letter written by an English naval officer, and published in theTimesof November 20th under the heading, "In the North Sea":—

"Their (i.e., the Germans') submarines are outside even now, and it seems funny where they get their information. But, at any rate, they are well served, as they knew where the Fleet was when we were at Devonport, and we did not know ourselves."

Taking all these facts into consideration, it is evident that the German spy system is more than a match for the Intelligence Division of the Admiralty War Staff.

Steinhauer—the chief of German Espionage—was the author and inspiration of these "enormous efforts," and of the lavish expenditure of money.

With unlimited means at his disposal from the German Secret Service funds, a close personal friend of the Kaiser, a man of undoubted ability, great charm of manner and unquestionable daring, the man known as Steinhauer must be ranked as one of the most dangerous of our enemies. I have met him more than once. He speaks English practically like an Englishman, and, out of uniform, might well pass for an Englishman in any cosmopolitan gathering. About eight years ago he was appointed to look after the German Secret Service, with specialinstructions from the Emperor to particularly devote himself to England.

He made frequent visits to this country; he got to know many German residents here of the better class, whose efforts might be of value to him, and within twelve months—while our red-tape-tangled Government Departments closed their eyes and dreamed—had actively at work a swarm of agents in every dockyard town and garrison where the picking up of information of value would be possible or likely. How he must have smiled! Every important town and city, many villages on the coast, every naval base had its agent or agents, and there can be no doubt that it was the result of Steinhauer's wonderful activities that at last aroused even the supine British Home Office, which for years had jeered at me and reassured the public with official denials that there were no spies in England, and had laughed at the numerous warnings to them to "sit up and take notice."

And all this in face of a great and terrible national peril!

I would here like to pay a tribute to the thoroughness with which the Confidential Department have all along done their work. Up to the limits to which the staff were allowed to go, they did magnificently. There can be no doubt that a good many of the most active German spies were detected and accounted for. The trouble is that theIntelligence officers were not allowed to go far enough—indeed, since the war the director, who knew many of the spies personally, has actually been relieved of his post. Why, we may well ask. Do not let us inquire, however, but let us realise that after six months at war we still have at large amongst us some 27,000 alien enemies who would, in any other country, be safely under lock and key. This spy peril means the loss of our sons and our loved ones, and a blow at our Empire. Even the Department is subject to ordinary human limitations, and we shall never be free from the spy-peril until we recognise with Sherman that during war the military authority is superior to the civil; until we insist with Sir Oliver Lodge that all foreign spies must be shot, and all native ones hanged.

This Steinhauer's crowning act of daring and cool "cheek" came in 1911, when it is stated upon the best authority that he actually paid a visit to King George at Buckingham Palace, as a member of the German Emperor's personal suite! In that year I met him. The Kaiser visited London to attend the unveiling by the King of the Queen Victoria Memorial. Steinhauer, the spy, was actually a member of his suite!

Of the action of our false friend the Kaiser in this matter it is difficult to speak with patience. At this time, it should be remembered, he was professing the firmest friendshipfor England, and more than one Cabinet Minister was full of his praise; yet this pinchbeck Napoleon could find it within his notions of honour to introduce to England the one man of all others who was most active in the perfidious campaign against her. Can it be wondered that with such an example of treachery to lead them, German diplomatists made small ado about tearing up the solemn treaty which guaranteed the neutrality of Belgium!

At this time, of course, Steinhauer's real mission was unknown to our Home Office, and, of course, Steinhauer is not his real name. It was not until later in the year that the Confidential Department fixed his identity and ascertained his true character. One sighs to realise the farce of it all.

Then began a campaign in which the Germans were badly outwitted. Without giving the slightest indication that anything unusual was on foot, or had been discovered, the Special Department—under the director who is, alas! no longer there—set to work.

One branch of their activities was revealed in a recent case, when they calmly produced, in court, tracings of letters posted in London by Steinhauer's agents. For once the spy had been met and beaten at his own game. In the meantime, some of Steinhauer's chief agents had been identified, and were kept under the closest but most unostentatious surveillance.

Arrests were made in a number of cases, and in many others information was secured which bore prompt fruit when war was declared, and over two hundred of the "master-spy's" tools were captured in different parts of the country and interned.

It is, however, beyond doubt that many of this man's agents, of greater or less influence or ability, are to-day still at liberty, and there is no doubt either that many have come over in the guise of Belgian refugees; that, indeed, has been officially admitted. Of course, they are now working under enormously greater difficulties in getting information, owing to the increased severity of the watch kept at all places of importance. And even to send it away when they have got it is not easy, though no doubt it is arranged, through Italy, Denmark, or Scandinavia.

Here is an instance reported by me to the authorities, as I considered it full of suspicion. Among the thousands of Belgian refugees arriving in England just before the fall of Antwerp—a city infested by German spies—there came among us a certain priest, with four other male companions. The priest explained to the Relief Committee which received him, that he was head of a certain college in Belgium. He and his companions were, at their own request, passed on to a provincial Relief Committee. There the priest's penurious position naturally aroused much sympathy, and he and his companionswere put into a good-sized house, given money for their maintenance, and petted by many charitable persons.

The five were free to take observations in and around the place where they were domiciled. That our enemy would be glad of any details regarding it there can be no doubt. Then, of a sudden—in the first days of January—the priest, to the surprise of the Committee, announced the fact that as he had received a letter from the Cardinal Archbishop of his diocese, stating that many of his old pupils had returned, he must leave at once for home with two of his companions. One of the latter declared that he had to go to "look after his cows"—as though the Germans would have left him any cows! When questioned, the priest admitted that he held monies of the college which he must hand over. To say the least, their behaviour was highly suspicious.

By some persons who became acquainted with this curious request the matter was viewed with considerable suspicion. There seemed no urgent reason why the refugees in question should return, for their excuses, when challenged, were of the flimsiest character. However, they were able to obtain a sum of money, which went towards their travelling expenses.

I at once went to the proper authorities—with the usual result. Officials "got busy" scribbling reports and writing polite "acknowledgments," but nothing was done, and thepriest and his friends were allowed to cross to Flushing unmolested on January 5th.

But while it may be true that the main spy organisation has been partially broken up—as Mr. McKenna would have us believe—it should not be supposed, by any means, that the peril is at an end. Letters can still be smuggled out of the country. To test this, I myself have communicated with friends in Germany since the war by sending my letters to Italy, where they were re-addressed, and replies have come by the same means. Signals can, and are still, undoubtedly being made to German submarines lying within easy distance of our East Coast. And there can be no doubt that the stream of secret German gold, part of the £720,000 a year, has, alas! done its work all too well in inducing at least a few renegade Englishmen to betray their country. This thought leaves a nasty taste in one's mouth, but there are black sheep in all nations, and the black sheep of this kind are the master-spy's most precious instruments. Very few of them, fortunately or unfortunately, as we may choose to think, have been discovered; but an example was made of one—the ex-naval gunner, Parrott—who, perhaps, was one of the worst examples.

Much organising of the actual work of espionage in England is believed to have been carried on by Count von der Schulenberg, who was recently appointed Governor of Liége. A very interesting account of hisclever methods was published by theDaily Mailsoon after his appointment was announced. Von der Schulenberg belongs to what is, unquestionably, the most dangerous type of spy—the monied man of good family, of a certain culture, enjoying the friendship of people in the better ranks of life, and above all, able to plead many hobbies to account for his presence in this country. We have many of a similar sort in our midst, posing as naturalised persons.

It was in 1909 that Schulenberg—whom I met at the Hotel Cecil, where I was living—first settled in England. He took a flat in Jermyn Street, where he spent a considerable time, probably in the work of familiarising himself with the ramifications of the German spy system in this country. He became well known among the German colony in the West End, and he was in the habit of spending considerable periods on some mysterious errands; at any rate he often disappeared for days from his favourite haunts.

About two years ago this Schulenberg left Jermyn Street—and the Hotel Cecil, where he often came in to see his friends—and went to live in Borough Green, Kent, a quiet village within easy reach of Chatham Dockyard. Here he posed, of all things in the world, as a poultry fancier! Here he spent a good deal of time, sparing no pains to ingratiate himself with everybody in the district, and, to a great extent, succeeding.

We next hear of him as a "breeder of bulldogs" in the little village of Hemley-on-Deben, in Suffolk, not far from Harwich. This was about the middle of 1913. The amusing part of his pose here is that it was quite obvious to everyone that he knew nothing whatever about the subject which he made his hobby! He was utterly ignorant of bulldogs, and everything pertaining to them. However, they served as the excuse he wanted to cover his real operations.

It is not thought that this Schulenberg did any actual spying; it is more probable that he was merely an agent and a "cover" for the work of others. That he may have been an organiser under Steinhauer is probable enough, and it is known that he received visits from mysterious Germans, to one of whom, in particular, he paid considerable deference. After his departure, a very significant statement is said to have been made by a young man who is now serving in our army at the front. This man asserted that if he had been willing to do what von Schulenberg asked him, he would, by this time, "have been a rich man, able to drive his own motor-car." We can make a pretty good guess as to the class of service that was sought.

Many other cases of a similar nature that have come to light make it plain that Great Britain was systematically divided out into territories, for the purpose of espionage, eachterritory having a head spy, or agent, to whom all others under him were responsible, and to whom they gave their reports for transmission to the headquarters of the German spy system in Brussels. These cases are too numerous to mention individually, and it will be sufficient to quote one as an example, that of Captain X——, of Manchester.

The captain was originally arrested for having—needless to say he was a German—travelled more than five miles from the city without permission. When the case came on the magistrates took the view that the offence was a mere oversight, and inflicted a small fine. Later, however, certain facts came to light, and the captain was re-arrested at the instance of the military authorities. Great importance was attached to the case, as the authorities believed that through it they would be able to lay their hands upon centres, not only in the North of England, but also in London, through which the Germans were in receipt of important information.

Captain X—— was a man of the type who have done excellent service for Germany among the too trustful English. Of charming manners, apparently a rich man, and very "English" in his ways, he was able to move in good society, and numbered among his friends many prominent Manchester people. But there was another side to his character of which his Manchester friends were not aware.

One of his favourite haunts was a certain German club in the city. Here he was seen almost nightly, and it was noticed that he seemed to have a great friendship for certain hotel-waiters of German nationality, who, like himself, were members. These club waiters, who evidently possessed an amount of cash which is not common among men participating in the "tronc," were constantly occupied with the captain in a private room. They "did themselves well," and in course of time they attracted the attention of certain Englishmen who were also members of the club. It could not escape notice that German waiters were rather curious friends for an apparently wealthy man moving in the best society in Manchester, and there is only one explanation of their common activities. Of the captain's ultimate fate I am ignorant, but we may assume that by this time he is beyond the capacity of doing us further harm, at any rate for a considerable time.

"Place aux dames!" Among the "master spies" of the Kaiser we must certainly include a proportion of the fair sex—those women of lax morals discussed in the Reichstag. And of all the perplexing problems with which our authorities have had to deal of late, there is none more difficult than that of women who have been acting as agents of German espionage.

It is a popular jibe that a woman cannot keep a secret. Never was a popular opinionworse founded. To the spy no quality is more essential than the ability to hold his tongue—a casual word may be enough to betray him under circumstances in which he might think himself absolutely safe. And if some women, at any rate, could not be trusted to set a very rigid seal on their lips, the Kaiser and other spy-masters would be robbed of some of their most able and desperate agents.

History has shown us that the woman-spy is, if anything, far more dangerous than the man, once she gives herself heart and soul to the business. And the reason is obvious: she brings to bear subtle influences—especially if she is of the half-world—which are far beyond the capacity of the male spy. More often than not, she simply works on a man's passions, and there are endless cases of men who have given away important secrets not for mere sordid motives, but through the wiles of a pretty little woman by whom they have been temporarily enslaved. The woman-spy, as a rule, must be possessed of great personal charm of manner, and more than a share of good looks—often they are minor actresses or ladies of no profession. They are, indeed, the aristocrats of the spy profession, for they can work with good prospects of success in cases where the ordinary lure of money would be rejected with scorn, and, probably, personal violence if it were proffered.

Now, it is absolutely foreign to the British character to take any steps against women of whatever class unless there are very clear grounds upon which to act. We may be quite sure that this fact is fully recognised by the authorities at Potsdam. There are to-day, in London—many around Piccadilly Circus, and practically uncontrolled—hundreds of German women, clever and capable, who are an unmistakable danger to our country. What to do with them is, admittedly, not a problem easy of solution. We, as Britons, do not want to inflict on women the unavoidable hardships of the concentration camps if it can be avoided, but we certainly do want to protect ourselves. The suggestion has been made that these women should be compulsorily repatriated, and it seems as good a way of dealing with the difficulty as any.

One of the most notorious of the German woman agents is believed to have come over to this country immediately after the fall of Brussels. She is said to be an exceedingly accomplished woman, very good-looking, and widely travelled, and speaking seven languages. The Confidential Department are to-day keeping her under observation. A woman of this kind is especially dangerous owing to her ability to pass in any class of society, and it is to be hoped that the Department has been able to curtail her opportunities for mischief.

As I have, over and over again, stated in the course of these past few years of Britain's slumber, the tremendous extent of the German spy system cannot be over-estimated, nor can it be too strongly impressed upon the public. Nothing is too large, or too small, for the net of German espionage; no agent can be too highly, or too lowly, placed. From the few chiefs who really control the dastardly work, designed for our undoing, radiate channels which stretch into every department of life, pouring in a constant stream of facts of greater or less importance, but all having their proper place when correlated and arranged by the keen brains in Berlin devoted to the work.

Never let it be forgotten that an apparently trivial incident may be the key for which the spy is patiently seeking, and that even a seemingly baseless rumour transmitted by the humble German, as the result of eavesdropping during his employment, may set the master-brain at work upon some matter of overwhelming importance.

CHAPTER VIII

THE SPY AND THE LAW

Thereis a vast amount of misconception in the public mind on the subject of spying, and an almost complete ignorance of the law of dealing with spies, military and civil, in time of peace and in time of war.

The subject is one which absolutely bristles with anomalies and incongruities. In all times and in all countries, and by the great majority of people, spying has been condemned as something essentially dishonourable—to call a man a spy has always been regarded as one of the deadliest insults. Yet here we have at once the first, and perhaps the most striking, anomaly of the spy business—the men of unblemished personal honour, who, unquestionably, would not descend to any act which, in their views, was even tainted with meanness, have acted as spies. I will mention a few of these cases presently; in the meantime, it will be well to consider what international law has to say on the subject.

Naturally enough, the subject of spying met with a good deal of consideration on thepart of the members of the Hague Convention, and, so far as there can be said to be international law in the matter, it is expressed in the conventional laws of war drawn up by the assemblage. The following Articles of the Convention dealing with the subject may be usefully quoted:—

ARTICLE XXIX.A person can only be considered a spy when, acting clandestinely, or on false pretences, he obtains or endeavours to obtain information in the zone of operations of a belligerent with the intention of communicating it to the hostile party.Thus, soldiers not wearing a disguise who have penetrated into the zone of operations of the hostile army for the purpose of obtaining information are not considered spies. Similarly, the following are not considered spies: Soldiers and civilians, carrying out their mission openly, entrusted with the delivery of despatches intended either for their own army or for the enemy's army. To this class belong likewise persons sent in balloons for the purpose of carrying despatches, and generally of maintaining communications between the different parts of an army or a territory.ARTICLE XXX.A spy taken in the act shall not be punished without previous trial.ARTICLE XXXI.A spy who after rejoining the army to which he belongs is subsequently captured by the enemy, is treated as a prisoner of war, and incurs no responsibility for his previous acts of espionage.

ARTICLE XXIX.

A person can only be considered a spy when, acting clandestinely, or on false pretences, he obtains or endeavours to obtain information in the zone of operations of a belligerent with the intention of communicating it to the hostile party.

Thus, soldiers not wearing a disguise who have penetrated into the zone of operations of the hostile army for the purpose of obtaining information are not considered spies. Similarly, the following are not considered spies: Soldiers and civilians, carrying out their mission openly, entrusted with the delivery of despatches intended either for their own army or for the enemy's army. To this class belong likewise persons sent in balloons for the purpose of carrying despatches, and generally of maintaining communications between the different parts of an army or a territory.

ARTICLE XXX.

A spy taken in the act shall not be punished without previous trial.

ARTICLE XXXI.

A spy who after rejoining the army to which he belongs is subsequently captured by the enemy, is treated as a prisoner of war, and incurs no responsibility for his previous acts of espionage.

A very detailed and lucid exposition ofthe law dealing with spies is given in Mr. J.M. Spaight's "War Rights on Land," perhaps the fullest and most authoritative source of information on the work of the Hague Convention in respect to war on land.

Now, in the conduct of war early and accurate information is of supreme importance. One of the best instances of this on record was the capture of Marshal Macmahon's army by the Germans in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71. This, of course, was not the work of a spy, but it was the result of information which a spy might very well have obtained.

A Paris paper published a statement indicating that Macmahon's army had changed the direction of its march. This statement was telegraphed to London and appeared in the papers here. It caught the attention of the then German Ambassador, who, realising its value, promptly telegraphed it to Berlin. For Moltke, of course, this was a heaven-sent opportunity of which his military genius made the fullest use. A new movement was at once set on foot, and the result was the surrender of Macmahon with his entire force.

Granting that information of equal value may at any moment be obtained by a clever spy, it is obvious that commanders in the field are not only entitled, but bound to take the most drastic measures to defend themselves against spies. The work of a single spy may wreck a campaign and settlethe fate of a nation, and here we have the real reason why the spy caught in the act is punished with relentless severity. "Kill that spy" is, and should be, the rule of every commander in the field.

Then arises another consideration of equal importance: every commander is entitled and bound to do his utmost to secure the best possible information as to the enemy's forces, their disposition, their size, and, above all, their intentions. It is of even more importance to understand what your enemy intends to do than to know the forces which he has available to carry out his plans. How, then, are we to draw a distinction between perfectly legitimate scouting and reconnaissance work, which can involve no reprobation and no punishment, and the "spying" properly so called, which justifies the infliction of the death penalty?

The answer lies in a couple of words—the spy acts under false pretences, while the soldier or scout acts quite openly; though, of course, concealing himself from observation and detection, he does not adopt any disguise or discard his uniform. The result is, that under no circumstances can a soldier wearing his uniform be treated as a spy. He may dare and do anything; if he is caught his sole punishment is that he is treated as a prisoner of war. So far as the soldier is concerned (the case of the civilian spy will be dealt with presently) disguise is the essenceof spying. This point is clear beyond the possibility of misconception, and the commander who shot a soldier in uniform on the plea that he was acting as a spy would simply be committing a murder.

Usually, a military spy is a soldier who has laid aside his own uniform, and either adopted civilian dress, or clothed himself in the uniform of the enemy, or a neutral, the better to escape detection. For such, there is no mercy; the penalty of detection is death. The reason is obvious: the soldier in disguise is a far more dangerous enemy than the one who openly carries out his hostile acts. In war, as in peace, the enemy in disguise is most dangerous; the false friend is the soldier's as well as the civilian's worst peril.

Here we come to another anomaly: spying in itself is not a criminal act. That is clearly recognised by Article XXXI. of the Hague Convention already quoted. Consequently, unless he is taken in the act the spy is immune; once he has regained his own lines, and discarded his disguise, he is exempt from the consequences of his espionage, even though he were captured and identified ten minutes later.

To constitute "spying" in the strict sense of the word, the offence must be carried out clandestinely, andin the war area. As we all know now, and as I and others pointed out years ago, the United Kingdom for manyyears has been flooded with German agents busily engaged in picking up information on naval and military subjects which would be of value to Germany. It is important to recognise that these agentsare not "spies" in the strict sense of the word, since the United Kingdom is, happily, not within the war zone. In time of peace they could not be shot. When war began, however, they were guilty of "war treason" and liable to the death penalty. The case of Carl Lody, with which I deal fully elsewhere, is a case in point. Lody was not accused of "spying," but of "war treason." The word "spy," however, is convenient, and no doubt it will continue to be used without undue regard to the technicalities.

It is necessary, I think, to make it clear how eminent soldiers have found it not beneath their dignity and honour to act as spies, even in the face of the general opprobrium which attaches to the spy. In the first place, the obtaining of information is essential to the successful conduct of war. Secondly, it is recognised that no moral guilt attaches to the spy, as is shown by the fact that he can only be punished if he is taken in the act, and as a preventive measure. Thirdly, we must remember that only a very brave man, ready to lay down his life for his country, could bring himself to act as a spy in war time. The spy, let it not be forgotten, is under no illusions; he takes his life in hishands, and he knows it. If he is caught there is no help for him; his doom is as certain as the rising of the sun. Only a man to whom his life was as nothing if risking it would serve his country's cause, would dare to undertake the perilous work of spying in time of war. Whatever other attributes the spy may possess, and many of them undoubtedly are individuals of a very undesirable kind, the possession of courage must be granted to them.

Naturally, it will be asked why the spy is so generally held in contempt, and, indeed, in abhorrence. That this should be so is, in all probability, due to a certain confusion of ideas between the soldier spy who, risking his life in war, may be playing a truly heroic part, and those miserable secret agents who, in time of peace and without risk, abuse for gold a nation's hospitality with the deliberate intention of working her ruin when war comes, or, still worse, the traitor who is ready to sell the interests of his own country. And it is one of the anomalies of the whole subject that the traitor who is ready to sell his country's interests to a possible enemy should, in time of peace, be punishable only by penal servitude, while the truly brave and often heroic soldier who in time of war risks his life in his country's cause, should meet certain death if he is detected.

Let us assume for a moment that a man of the former class, the day before the war brokeout, had sold to Germany information of some secret upon which the safety of the British Empire depended. There is no such secret, but I assume it for the sake of argument. His maximum punishment would have been penal servitude. Take next the case of a German soldier who, the day after war was declared, crept disguised into our lines and obtained information which might have enabled his commander to capture fifty British soldiers. We should have shot him without delay. Yet will anyone contend that there is anything comparable in the moral turpitude of the two acts? It must not be understood, of course, that I am pleading for clemency for the spy; my plea is for greater severity for the traitor!

We are now faced with another problem. If it is dishonourable to spy—and many eminent authorities, as well as public opinion, generally hold this to be the case—it is unquestionably dishonourable to employ spies. Yet all commanders of all nations employ spies, and if any nation failed to do so, it might as well—as Lord Wolseley said—sheathe its sword for ever. We can take it for granted that, in his many campaigns, Lord Wolseley made the fullest use possible of spies, and yet his personal honour need not be questioned. We certainly cannot say that he was dishonoured by the use of means often regarded as dishonourable.

Moreover, great soldiers themselves havenot hesitated to act as spies. The history of war is full of such cases. Catinat spied in the disguise of a coal-heaver. Montluc disguised himself as a cook. Ashby, in the American Civil War, visited the Federal lines as a horse-doctor, while General Nathaniel Lyon visited the Confederate camp at St. Louis in disguise before he attacked and captured it. Against the personal honour of such men as these no word can be said, and, as Mr. Spaight points out, it is surprising to find a military historian like Sir Henry Hozier declaring that "spies have a dangerous task and not an honourable one."

The truth seems to be that as regards the military spy in time of war, popular opinion stands in need of revision. In the face of the instances quoted, it cannot be fairly said that the military spy is necessarily a man of dishonour. The spy and the revolutionary, in some respects, fall under the same category. If they succeed, well and good; if they fail, they pay the inevitable penalty, and no mercy is shown them. Yet the revolutionary as well as the spy may be a person of blameless honour.

As a matter of fact, the Germans themselves—whose sense of honour no one will regard as being excessively nice—seem to recognise the distinction between the military spy and the wretched agents of espionage, of whom they have made abundant use, who in times of peace, work, and can only work,by abusing the hospitality of the nation among whom they live, and by tempting men to betray their honour and their country's secrets. The Japanese, too, one of the proudest of nations, and with a code of honour as strict as any in the world, have recognised that there is nothing essentially dishonourable about the military spy. During the war with Russia, Mr. Douglas Story relates, they captured a Russian who was spying disguised as a Chinaman. They shot him, of course, but they afterwards sent into the Russian lines a message in which they hailed the spy as a brave man, and expressed the hope that the Russian army held many others equally brave.

Perhaps the most remarkable spy case on record is that of Major André, which aroused the fiercest indignation during the American War of Independence. André, who was born in London in 1751, joined the British Army in Canada, and became aide-de-camp to General Clinton. Benedict Arnold, an American commandant, had undertaken to surrender to the British forces a fortress on the Hudson River, and André was sent by Clinton to make the necessary arrangements.

On the night of September 20th, 1780, Arnold and André met at a place called Haverstraw, on the Hudson River. Then André changed his uniform for plain clothes, and attempted to pass through the American lines by means of a passport given him byArnold in the name of John Anderson. As he was approaching the British lines, however, he was captured by a patrol of the enemy, who handed him over to the American military authorities.

Washington at once convened a board of officers, who found André guilty of espionage, and declared that he ought to be put to death. Curiously enough, André himself did not protest against this sentence; all that he asked was that he should be shot instead of suffering the ignominious death of hanging. This request, however, was refused, and, accordingly, he was hanged on October 2nd, 1780.

The case created an uproar in England. The essence of spying is that the spy shall be caught while seeking information, and André was not thus caught. The Americans contended that so long as he was captured before he had returned to his own lines he was to be regarded as a spy, and, therefore, liable to condemnation. Many people in England, and elsewhere, regarded André as a martyr. George III. granted a pension to his mother, a baronetcy was conferred on his brother, and, in 1821, his remains were allowed to be exhumed, and were brought to England and buried in Westminster Abbey!

It is most important to recognise the distinction between spying, properly so called, and "war treason." The inhabitants of an occupied territory do not owe any allegianceto an invader, but they do owe him the duty of remaining quiet and abstaining from acts which might endanger his safety or success. They are subject to his martial law regulations, and, under certain circumstances, they may be guilty of war treason. War treason has been defined by the Germans as:—

"The act of damaging or imperilling the enemy's power by deceit, or by the transmission of messages to the national army on the subject of the position, movements, plans, etc., of the occupant, irrespective of whether the means by which the sender has come into the possession of the information be legitimate or illegitimate (e.g., by espionage)."

It is, of course, regarded as an act of perfidy when a person whose rights as a non-combatant have been regarded abuses his position to render aid to the national army. Non-combatants, save when the "levy in mass" has been put in force, have no right, it is considered, to meddle in any way with the operations of the contending armies.

Bearers of despatches, whether military or civilian, are not spies so long as they work openly. During the Franco-Prussian War, Bismarck contended that all who attempted to pass out of Paris by balloon were spies, and should be treated as such, and though those who were caught were not put to death, they were very harshly treated. He was, undoubtedly, wrong under international law as recognised at the present day.

Since those times, the aeroplane has placedin the hands of military commanders a powerful weapon, not only of espionage or scouting, but also of communicating information, and probably not even Bismarck, were he still alive, could contend that the use of aeroplanes could be regarded as bringing the airman within the laws of espionage. And there is no difference in principle between the aeroplane and the balloon. Obviously, there can be none of the concealment which is necessary to establish spying.

The invention of wireless telegraphy brought about a curious problem in espionage during the Russo-Japanese War. A steamer, fitted with a wireless installation, followed the movements of the rival fleets in the interests of one of the London papers. She was boarded by a Russian cruiser, and, as result, the Russian Government informed the neutral Powers that should any neutral vessel be found within the Russian maritime zone, having on board correspondents with apparatus of this kind—which, obviously, was not foreseen in the then existing Conventions—used for the purpose of transmitting information to the enemy, the correspondents would be treated as spies, and the vessels made prizes of war. That position is now untenable.

Owing to the improvements made in wireless telegraphy, a very similar situation might arise in a land war. It is possible, to-day, to carry in an ordinary motor-car awireless outfit capable of sending messages a very considerable distance; indeed, there is good reason for believing that such an apparatus is actually being used by German agents for transmitting information from the east and north-east districts of England, to enemy submarines lurking in the North Sea. A rigorous search has been made for this mysterious car, which has been reported in various districts. Naturally, when the apparatus is not in use it is concealed within the body of the car, which would then become, apparently, an ordinary touring vehicle, with nothing to distinguish it from hundreds of others passing freely along the roads.

In this case there would be little doubt about the fate of the occupants of the car if they were caught. They would not be "spies" in the strict sense of the word, as their offence was not committed within the zone of the operations, but they would be guilty of "war treason," and liable to the death penalty.

This is a very real danger, and the offence is one that it would be extremely difficult to detect. The popular idea of a wireless plant, gained no doubt from the enormous "aerials" of the high-power stations sending messages thousands of miles, is that wireless telegraphy is something that cannot be carried on without employing huge plant that it would be impossible to conceal.

Now I can claim to know something ofwireless telegraphy—I have experimented for some years—and I can say, at once, that this is an exceedingly dangerous fallacy. In recent years very great improvements have been made in both transmitters and receivers, and to-day it is quite possible to establish in almost any house, a small, but powerful wireless plant, which would be utterly invisible from outside, but quite capable of sending messages from any spot near the coast to enemy vessels, such as submarines, lying a few miles away.

Of secret installations there are, no doubt, to-day, many in various parts of the country. Several stations have, indeed, been discovered. The reason aliens were not allowed to possess a telephone was regarded as curious by some people. But it was because telephone-wires, when properly insulated and arranged, make quite a good "aerial." Further, in any barn or long attic, aerial wires can be strung across, and give excellent results. The spy does not need spidery wires upon masts high above his house-top, or in his garden. If his instruments are sufficiently delicate, and are connected with the underground gas-pipe, or even to an ordinary wire-mattress, he will be able to receive messages from any of the high-power stations within a radius of, say, five hundred miles, while from a wire strung inside a disused factory-chimney, and thereby hidden, a wireless message can be despatched a couple of hundred miles. Therefore theperil of all this will at once be realised, for any spy who knows sufficient to fit up a wireless station inside his own house, and is acquainted with the latest developments of the science, need not use lamp-signalling at night, or pigeons, or any other antiquated modes of communication. Indeed, he can flash at night a code-message direct to Norddeich or any other place on the German coast, and receive back his answer in a few moments, no one being able to detect, until after long search and inquiry, whence the mysterious buzz has emanated.

It ought to be said, however, that it is problematical how long such a fixed station, established say in Yorkshire, could be worked without detection, because its messages must—sooner or later—be picked up by some of our own Post Office or naval operators. The messages would be in cipher, of course, but the important thing would be to know that such a plant was being used. An expert wireless-operator, with a newly-invented instrument called a "direction-finder," can make a very good guess at the distance of the point of origin of any message he receives, and once the proper authorities were on the track of a secret wireless station, the work of hunting it down would be only a matter of time and trouble. Such a case was reported a few weeks ago from the Pacific coast, where a wireless station established in the centre of a remote district wasgiving the Germans valuable help. It was tracked down and located, and it is said that a similar station was found in the centre of Rome, and others in Paris and Antwerp. We might be equally successful here, but, in the meantime, it is more than likely that a good deal of damage might have been done.

The case of a wireless installation used for a motor-car, however, presents much more difficulty of detection. We might know perfectly well that it was being used, and yet be unable to locate it on account of its mobility. It is practically certain that it would never be used twice from the same spot; indeed, it might operate along a line running a couple of hundred miles north and south, and still convey its messages to the enemy vessels. In such a case as this, we can only rely upon vigilance and good luck to turn the trick in our favour.

In my view, the Admiralty took an extremely unwise step when, at the beginning of the war, they closed all the private wireless stations in England. There are a great many of these stations—far more than the general public realises—and the majority of them were being worked by men whose loyalty and discretion stood absolutely above suspicion. These installations—free from the heavy load of business thrown upon the Government coast stations—are quite capable of doing excellent work in constantly "listening" for illicit stations which might be in thehands of German spies for the purpose of giving information respecting our naval movements. The value of these small stations as a means of detecting hostile messages has been entirely under-estimated by the Admiralty, who seem to consider the risk of Englishmen being either traitors or fools more than outweighs the possibility of detecting secret wireless in the hands of our enemies.

I have dwelt upon this matter at some length, because I am absolutely convinced of the very serious danger to which we are exposed from the use of wireless installations, small, but capable of working over any distance up to, say, one hundred miles—and even less would be amply sufficient—by German spies in Great Britain at the present moment.

We now know quite enough of German methods to be aware that our enemy's spies are not only singularly daring, but singularly resourceful. I know what a small, compact, portable station can do in skilled hands, and I am strongly of opinion that the risks we are running in this respect are not sufficiently appreciated—perhaps are not understood—by the authorities. Even to-day, in spite of the evidence that I and others have been able to bring forward for some years, and in spite even of numerous convictions during the past few months, there is too much of a tendency on the part of the Government to try to "save its face" by declaringthat the spy peril is enormously exaggerated. No doubt they will endeavour to refute my arguments in these pages. They declared, for so long, that there were no German spies in England, that even to-day they are reluctant to take the drastic steps which the situation urgently demands. On no other supposition can we explain the unparalleled liberty accorded to thousands of Germans, whether naturalised or not, who are still permitted to live and move so freely among us. Some, indeed, have been interned, and afterwards released.

Returning to the legal position of spies (after a digression perhaps not without its uses), it should be noted that the Hague regulations distinguish between a member of the armed forces and a private citizen. The soldier spy who has rejoined the army cannot, afterwards, be punished for his act of espionage. The civilian who acts as a spy enjoys, however, no such privilege. He has no business to meddle with military affairs, and, should he be captured at any time, he is liable to pay the penalty of his former deeds. Similarly, to harbour a spy is also a criminal offence.

A person found guilty of espionage may either be hanged or shot; nowadays, the usual punishment is shooting, though the American code still prescribes hanging. In earlier times, also, he was liable to be executed on the spot, without formality of any kind.To-day, he must first be tried by court-martial in accordance with the established rules of martial law in the country in which the offence was committed.

The position of civilians in an invaded territory who give or transmit to their own side information respecting the enemy's movements is not without interest to us now that threats of a German invasion are so freely indulged in by the Press of Germany, and preparations to defeat such an attack are being actively made by our own military authorities.

There can be no doubt that if a resident of an occupied territory gives such information, he is guilty either of spying, or of a hostile act against the invader, amounting to war treason, and equally punishable by death. The "American Instructions" are very emphatic on this point. They say:—

"If a citizen or subject of a country or place invaded or conquered gives information to his own Government from which he is separated by the hostile army or to the army of his Government he is awar traitorand death is the penalty of his offence."

Thus, a Belgian resident in Brussels, during the German occupation, found sending information to the Belgian authorities in France, would be shot out of hand by the Germans, and they would be within their clear rights in shooting him.

A more doubtful case would be that of an inhabitant of a district not yet occupied, who entered the war zone, obtained information, and, having sent it to his Government, returned home, only to be captured later when the enemy occupied the district. The view is generally held, though the Convention came to no very clear decision, that in such a case he could not be punished, as he was not supposed to belong to an occupied territory. Such a man owes no duty to the enemy, as in the case of an occupied territory, and once he has completed his mission, he is free.

It should be noted that the nationality of a spy is not material; neutrals found guilty may be punished as though they were the enemy subjects. Many Chinese who spied for the Russians during the Russo-Japanese War were executed by the Japanese. One of them was a Chinese officer, and the Government of China demanded an explanation. The Japanese reply was quite unequivocal, and insisted on the right to punish spies, no matter of what nationality.

As I have said, all nations spy in the interests of national self-preservation. It is not thefactof German espionage that has roused the indignation of the civilised world against her. We have no feelings even of resentment against such men as Carl Lody, though, of course, we are entitled to protect ourselves against them. They owe us nothing,and they are clearly doing their duty in trying to help their country. What has aroused anti-German feelings—which are not likely to die out for many years—is the baseness of the Germanmethod: systematic "planting" of agents who, for years, have posed as the friends of those among whom they lived, yet have not hesitated to betray them in the first shock of war. Thousands of paid German spies have deliberately become naturalised Frenchmen, Englishmen, and Belgians, as a mere cloak for their efforts to betray the country of their adoption. Hundreds of thousands of Germans accepted for years as friends in this country, bearers even of British honours, have abused our hospitality, and added the vilest treachery to the blackest ingratitude. While posing as our friends, they have worked their best for our undoing, and—worse still—they have suborned and made traitors of poor men, to whom the lure of gold of this kind is simply that it is "not cricket," and for the false friend, not for the open enemy, the British people reserve their bitterest scorn and contempt.

CHAPTER IX

A REMARKABLE SPY

Ofthe many cases of espionage which have come before the British public recently, surely none exceeds in interest and importance that of Carl Hans Lody, who, after trial by court-martial, was shot in the Tower of London early in November. Lody was the first secret-service agent shot in England after the outbreak of war, and the first person executed in the Tower since the middle of the eighteenth century.

Lody, beyond all question, was a very remarkable man. Before going into the details of the charge against him, it is well worth while to recall some of the leading features of his career.

Born in Berlin, he was only thirty-five, yet he had seen enough of life and the world to have satisfied many men of double his age. There is hardly a corner of the civilised world into which he had not travelled. He had been much in America, and it was a considerable help to him, in his work as a secret-service agent, that he spoke English with a decidedly American accent. This, no doubt, explains the fact—of which more presently—that he posed as an American, and used an American passport, which really belonged to a certain Mr. Charles A. Inglis.

It was as Mr. Charles A. Inglis that Lody arrived in England early in August. He knew England and Scotland well, and he is believed to have been in this country once or twice earlier in the year. Originally, he served in the German Navy; after he left he became a steward on the liner "Hamburg." In the meantime he married a very handsome American woman, to whom, apparently, though the marriage did not turn out very happily, he was very deeply attached.

When the Hamburg-Amerika Line established a series of personally conducted tours from Berlin, Lody secured an appointment to take charge of a party of rich Americans who were going round the world. He made a similar tour in 1913 and in the summer of 1914, and when the American medical societies held an International Conference in London, Lody was one of the guides who helped to show them round England. None of the Americans, it may be mentioned, ever doubted that he belonged to their country.

It was in August, as I have said, that Lody came to England on the mission that led him to his death. He travelled as Mr. Inglis, though to an American acquaintance who chanced to meet him he was still Lody. It was some weeks before the attention of the Confidential Department was drawn to him, and then began a game of hide-and-seek, which was not without a humorous side.

From August till the middle of September, Lody was in Edinburgh, a district prohibited to enemy aliens, though not, of course, to an American. Thence he sent, to Stockholm, a telegram which aroused suspicion. On September 7th he was followed from the neighbourhood of Rosyth, and with magnificent "bluff" he went direct to the police and complained. So well did he play the part of an injured and innocent American citizen, that the police actually apologised to him. He slipped away and, for a time, all trace of him was lost.

Then he went to London and began an examination of the steps that had been taken for the protection of the principal buildings. Again the Intelligence Department got on his track, and from that moment his doom was sealed. No doubt he thought he had shaken off all suspicion, but he was soon to be undeceived.

After a visit to Scotland about the end of September, Lody went to Liverpool, no doubt to pick up all he could about the Mersey defences, and then over to Ireland in the guise of an American tourist on a visit to Killarney. But the police had their eye on him all the time, and he was arrested and detained until the arrival of Inspector Ward of Scotland Yard. His trial and conviction followed.

The public will never know the full extentof Lody's doings as a spy, but it is beyond question that he was a most daring and dangerous man. The reports he made have not yet been published, but they were of such a character that, in the interests of the State, much of the evidence was taken in camera, and those who have been privileged to read them declare that, in their keen observation and clear expression, they are among the most remarkable documents that have ever come into the possession of the War Office. The Confidential Department did its work well, and it is worth noting here that after grave suspicion fell upon Lody, he was so closely shadowed that none of his reports left the country, and they were produced in evidence at the trial.

Lody's task was to travel about England and to send to Germany news about our naval movements, about our losses and the steps that were being taken to repair them. One message he tried to send from Edinburgh read:—"Must cancel. Johnson very ill last four days. Shall leave shortly." Innocent enough! But to Berlin, as Lody admitted at his trial, it meant that the British Fleet, in four days, would be leaving the Firth of Forth.

What, we may well wonder, was to be cancelled!

There was a dramatic scene in the ancient Guildhall when the court-martial assembled to try Lody for his life—a scene strangely unfamiliar in a country which, for a generation, has had little experience of military trials. The court was composed of Major-General Lord Cheylesmore as President, and eight officers in uniform. In the dock stood Lody, guarded by two khaki-clad soldiers with bayonets fixed.

The following were the charges on which Lody was accused:—

The accused, Carl Hans Lody, alias Charles A. Inglis, an enemy civilian, is charged—first charge—with committing a war crime, that is to say, war treason, against Great Britain, in that he at Edinburgh, on or about September 27, 1914, attempted to convey to a belligerent enemy of Great Britain—namely to Germany—information calculated to be useful to that enemy by sending a letter headed Edinburgh 27/9/14, and signed Nazi, addressed to one Karl J. Stammer, Berlin, which contained information with regard to the defence and preparations for war of Great Britain. The second charge is that of committing a war crime in that he on or about the 30th of September attempted to convey to a belligerent enemy of Great Britain—namely to Germany—information calculated to be useful to that enemy, by sending a letter, headed Dublin and signed Nazi, and addressed to Karl J. Stammer, which contained information with regard to the defences and preparations for war of Great Britain.

Lody's movements were very clearly traced at the trial by Mr. Bodkin, who prosecuted for the Crown. It was shown, by the visé on the American passport he was using, that he had been in Berlin as recently as August 4th. Another document found on him proved that he was in Bergen, in Norway, on August 20th. In all his movements he passed asCharles A. Inglis. It is not necessary to follow him in detail, but it may be mentioned that apparently he reported both to a man named Burchard, at Stockholm, and also to Stammer at Berlin. There were found in his notebook not only a copy of the "Johnson" telegram, but also particulars of British losses in battle and in the naval fight in the North Sea, a list of German cruisers and German ships sunk up to date, and also copies of four other communications to Burchard.

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