Chapter Four.

Chapter Four.Military Spies.The German system of military espionage can best be studied by an analysis of the working of the system in France from the year 1870 onwards. So far as the outside world is concerned, the military invasion of France by Germany began at the end of July 1870, but in reality the invasion began in the latter half of 1867, when Stieber, chief of the German secret police, began the placing of his fixed posts throughout the country. No less than 30,000 spies were placed in the departments of Northern and Eastern France, and the feats of this army made possible the work accomplished by Von Moltke.In his Memoirs Stieber relates how Bismarck, when informed that Jules Favre wished to negotiate for the surrender of Paris in 1871, sent for Stieber and instructed him that Favre was to be kept under observation while negotiations were in progress. Bismarck and Favre met at Versailles, where, on Favre’s arrival, he was escorted to a carriage driven by one of Stieber’s men, and was driven to an establishment on the Boulevard du Roi. This, though Favre was ignorant of the fact, was the headquarters of the German active service police. Favre was courteously received, and presented with a body-servant to whom the highest accomplishments were accredited. The body-servant was none other than Stieber himself.Favre lodged in this house throughout all the negotiations for the surrender of Paris. So far as Favre knew, the owner of the house was a good Parisian and a resident of Versailles; in reality the place was the headquarters of the German secret-service system, and its owner was one of the fixed spies placed by Stieber before the war began, and thus ready to afford all information with regard to his own district to the German forces on their arrival. For the period of Favre’s stay, Stieber waited on him hand and foot, attending to his meals, to his bedroom and clothing, and performing all the duties of a valet. Under this pretext it was perfectly easy for Stieber to ransack all Favre’s clothing luggage, and personal equipment, and the arch-spy claims in his Memoirs that much of the information he obtained in this way was extremely useful to Bismarck during the negotiations on which the conclusion of peace was based.Certain proposals made by the Minister of the Interior during this period in which Stieber was at the head of the secret police are worth quoting with regard to the establishment of spies throughout France, subsequent to the war of 1870, in order that strict watch might be kept on the conquered country. The proposals were as follows:“All the fixed agents must hold not merely salaried positions (that is, in offices, workshops, etc), for they might at any time be dismissed from their posts, and in that case would no longer have any plausible reason for remaining at their points of observation. Such positions, too, possess considerable disadvantage for our agents, in that they restrict their actions and hamper their freedom of going and coming, and bring them too much under notice.“For these reasons, it must be laid down as a condition of the employment of a spy that he shall be obliged to keep some kind of an establishment, which he may select so long as it is, at least externally, thoroughly in keeping with the commercial or other requirements of the country in which he is engaged. Whatever establishment it be, whether an office for the settlement of disputed claims, or a property register, or a business of a purely commercial land, such as groceries, cafés, restaurants, hotels, etc, it must be soundly established and possess a substantial good-will.“It must be borne in mind that it is necessary for our agents to inspire confidence in circles where they have their centre of action, and to inspire that confidence by outward indications of a commonplace bourgeois existence; by tactful charity and by making themselves useful in societies, associations, communities, and so forth; and by acquiring strong social positions, so that they may be well received and regarded in all quarters.“While we must limit the expenditure which our agents are permitted to incur, it is necessary that we should give them absolute assurance that any deficit of the undertaking which they carry on would be made good by the service under the head of general expenses.”Since the annual expenditure of Germany for work of this kind is admitted to amount to 780,000 pounds a year, it may be gathered that the espionage service is a complete one. The sum stated is admittedly spent; how much more is spent it is impossible to conjecture. The spies placed at fixed posts are given salaries varying between two and four pounds a week according to the importance of the post and the duties which the spy is expected to perform. To this is added any out-of-pocket expenses to which the spy may be put in the maintenance of his business or position. These spies at fixed posts are under the control of headquarters at Brussels, Lausanne, and Geneva, whence their salaries are paid monthly under the form of business remittances. There is also a system of inspectorship by means of which each fixed post is visited at regular intervals, either by women or by professed commercial travellers, who collect the written reports in order to avoid possible inspection of these reports by the French postal authorities. Further, this system admits of instructions being given verbally by the travelling inspector to the spy at each fixed post. At the outbreak of the present war the number of fixed spies known to exist in France was over 15,000.The recruiting of this army of spies was begun by Stieber in 1870, when he requested that there should be sent, to the fourteen departments of France in which occupation was essential to the success of a German attack, about 4,000 farmers, agricultural labourers, and others who should be permanently employed in the several districts, together with an even larger number of women servants to be placed among the various classes of the French population. These, however, were to receive pay from ordinary French commercial sources, and were to be under the control of the higher grade of spies established in businesses or otherwise independently employed at the fixed posts. The latter were specially chosen from among people of Teutonic origin, not only in Germany, but also in Switzerland and Belgium, whence they were sent to take up their posts after receiving the necessary preliminary training to fit them for their work. The occupant of a fixed post at the present time, whether in France or any other country, is nearly always a German, and has at his beck and call a host of other emigrants from Germany, who are legitimately employed in various capacities, have had no government training, and expect no fixed salary for their work. They are the small fry of the business, and do not come into contact with any higher officials than the fixed agent, who enables them to supplement their legitimate salaries by retailing bits of slander and gossip. The absence of one or more of them would make no difference to the system; as a matter of patriotism, they simply retail what they hear to a fellow-countryman, and, in this sense, every German in a foreign country may be reckoned as a spy, though for official purposes only a certain number of secret-service agents exist.The recognised agent is placed at some point at which he is able to maintain espionage over a garrison, a military post, or something connected with the defensive or offensive organisation of the country concerned. His business at the outset is to be thoroughly agreeable and make himself well liked in the circle in which he moves. Assuming that he is located in a small garrison town, he sets up a business of some kind which will give him admittance to military circles, and, no matter how bad times may be, his business goes on. In the meantime he contributes unostentatiously to charities, attends all entertainments, and does his best to make himself and his business known in the community of which he is a member. Sooner or later, he makes friends out of one or two of his acquaintances; so far as can be seen he leads a benevolent, open, harmless sort of existence, and is a thoroughly good fellow, and eventually he gains close contact with some member of the garrison, either officer or non-commissioned officer. In the latter case, the spy will take care that the non-commissioned officer is in some position of trust where he is able to obtain useful information.So far as his friends are concerned, the spy proves to be not entirely ignorant of matters military. He manifests a mild interest in drill, formation of troops, fortifications, guns, etc, but he is not in any way keen over these matters. Like any other inhabitant of the country in which he resides, he is willing to discuss the “shop” matters of his associates, and will even indulge in mild arguments, making mistakes and submitting to correction from those more experienced. Gradually he gets more and more into the confidence of his friends, who, while they reveal nothing of importance, let fall a word here and a word there in his hearing, knowing him to be thoroughly trustworthy; out of these various words a fairly detailed report can be compiled. In the meantime, the small fry of the business are constantly bringing gossip. If a new gun is to be mounted, the spy hears about it; if the strength of the garrison is to be altered, the spy is cognisant of the fact; sooner or later, he gets to know domestic details with regard to the officers of the garrison. A certain lieutenant drinks too much, or a captain is very fond of a hand at cards; in the former case the spy is quite willing to drink level with the lieutenant, and in the latter he is willing to lose money to the captain, such money being put down to special expenses, and accounted for in his monthly statement.It will be seen that in such simple ways these the fixed agent is able to obtain an immense amount of personal and other information by perfectly simple methods. It may be urged that the greater part of this information could be obtained in legitimate ways and with no expense to the German Government; but the system which Stieber inaugurated is above all things thorough, and there is a system at Berlin of tabulating and card-indexing all information received from fixed posts; of analysing, checking, and comparing, until absolute certainty is reached with regard to the accuracy of detail. For instance, a certain newspaper may announce that the armament of certain fortifications has been increased by a new four-inch gun. A fixed agent will add to this information the position of gun, weight of shell, rate of fire per minute, name of officer in control, and the fact that it is mounted on a disappearing platform—details which are noted and checked with a view to their possible usefulness in the future. The extent of this usefulness may be estimated when the fall of Namur or Maubeuge is recalled. The officers in control of the attacking German batteries knew exactly how many guns they had to silence, the position, bore, and rate of fire of these guns, and the points at which their own batteries could best be placed, with a view to fire effect and invisibility. In the case of Maubeuge they knew more: they knew where to find the necessary concrete platforms on which to place their own heavy artillery, in order to silence the French guns—and this must be attributed to the development of the system of fixed posts.Not only does the Great German General Staff know details of fortifications and technical matters, but it is also kept posted up in the character and abilities of officers who come under the observation of the fixed agent. Reports sent in to headquarters are concerned with personal peculiarities and scandals to an extent undreamed of by the persons concerned. If any officer is open to bribery, the fact is ascertained; if any officer’s wife is open to blackmail, the blackmail is instituted, and the price of silence in every case is information with regard to matters of which the husband is cognisant. Further, the topographical information supplied includes details of the nature and state of roads, telegraphs, bridges, depths of rivers and streams, positions of fords, nature and condition of every building and farm, supplies of forage and food, horses available, and every detail which is likely to be of service. The ordnance-maps supplied to German officers are marvels of map-making; every insignificant cottage, stile, clump of trees, and peculiarity of the landscape is indicated, and, by the use of maps of this kind, the march on Paris in 1870 was carried through without a hitch.In like manner, all preparations for the Prussian advance through Belgium, and the projected victorious march on Paris, were made and completed years ago, with the assistance of the fixed agents. The German entry into Brussels, when 700,000 men marched through a strange city without the slightest confusion, has been described as a triumph of organisation. This it undoubtedly was; but the credit did not lie with the military commander, for the agents who had been busy through many months preparing the way of the army were responsible for that army’s successful advance. Officers had only to follow detailed instructions presented to them by headquarters.With equal care the entry to Paris was planned: quarters were assigned to each regiment of the invading army; each officer knew exactly the part that would be his in the spectacle, and every step of the entry to the French capital had been arranged in detail by German fixed agents, who had resided for many years in Northern France, and in Paris itself, as peaceful citizens. Reports of German occupation of French towns and even photographs from the theatre of war draw attention to various houses on which has been chalked—“Spare this house.” In many cases, doubtless, this is intended as a return for unexpectedly hospitable reception, but in many other cases it indicates that the house in question was the residence of a fixed agent, to whom German officers came on their entry to the place in order to learn all that was possible with regard to resources of the town or village, and all that could be told of the movements of the enemy.It has been urged, and with apparent reason, that the value of espionage ceases as soon as armies take the field, since the work of the spy can only concern preparations for hostilities, and, when war has begun, actual strength decides the issue. This, however, is not the case when German military espionage is in question; in many cases the fixed agents have been so long established at their posts that they rank in the eyes of normal inhabitants as a part of the life of the place, and, by maintaining their positions, they are able to ascertain for the benefit of their own commanders particulars of the dispositions of hostile forces. Elaborate systems of signalling are in use; carrier pigeons are used, but only to a limited extent; the ways of the Red Indians, who made the most perfect spies ever known, are copied in indicating events by the movement of stones, chipping of bark on trees, breaking branches, and other ways little likely to be detected, while the more civilised method of lamp-signalling is also practised. Altogether, the German military spy forms a very efficient and formidable part of the German military force, both before and after the opening of hostilities. His value decreases to a certain extent when action has been entered on, and, in a definite battle like those along the line of the Meuse and the line of the Aisne, he is practically useless, but in case of an advance on the part of the German forces he is invaluable, by reason of the information he can give with regard to the nature of the country and the dispositions of the retreating army.

The German system of military espionage can best be studied by an analysis of the working of the system in France from the year 1870 onwards. So far as the outside world is concerned, the military invasion of France by Germany began at the end of July 1870, but in reality the invasion began in the latter half of 1867, when Stieber, chief of the German secret police, began the placing of his fixed posts throughout the country. No less than 30,000 spies were placed in the departments of Northern and Eastern France, and the feats of this army made possible the work accomplished by Von Moltke.

In his Memoirs Stieber relates how Bismarck, when informed that Jules Favre wished to negotiate for the surrender of Paris in 1871, sent for Stieber and instructed him that Favre was to be kept under observation while negotiations were in progress. Bismarck and Favre met at Versailles, where, on Favre’s arrival, he was escorted to a carriage driven by one of Stieber’s men, and was driven to an establishment on the Boulevard du Roi. This, though Favre was ignorant of the fact, was the headquarters of the German active service police. Favre was courteously received, and presented with a body-servant to whom the highest accomplishments were accredited. The body-servant was none other than Stieber himself.

Favre lodged in this house throughout all the negotiations for the surrender of Paris. So far as Favre knew, the owner of the house was a good Parisian and a resident of Versailles; in reality the place was the headquarters of the German secret-service system, and its owner was one of the fixed spies placed by Stieber before the war began, and thus ready to afford all information with regard to his own district to the German forces on their arrival. For the period of Favre’s stay, Stieber waited on him hand and foot, attending to his meals, to his bedroom and clothing, and performing all the duties of a valet. Under this pretext it was perfectly easy for Stieber to ransack all Favre’s clothing luggage, and personal equipment, and the arch-spy claims in his Memoirs that much of the information he obtained in this way was extremely useful to Bismarck during the negotiations on which the conclusion of peace was based.

Certain proposals made by the Minister of the Interior during this period in which Stieber was at the head of the secret police are worth quoting with regard to the establishment of spies throughout France, subsequent to the war of 1870, in order that strict watch might be kept on the conquered country. The proposals were as follows:

“All the fixed agents must hold not merely salaried positions (that is, in offices, workshops, etc), for they might at any time be dismissed from their posts, and in that case would no longer have any plausible reason for remaining at their points of observation. Such positions, too, possess considerable disadvantage for our agents, in that they restrict their actions and hamper their freedom of going and coming, and bring them too much under notice.

“For these reasons, it must be laid down as a condition of the employment of a spy that he shall be obliged to keep some kind of an establishment, which he may select so long as it is, at least externally, thoroughly in keeping with the commercial or other requirements of the country in which he is engaged. Whatever establishment it be, whether an office for the settlement of disputed claims, or a property register, or a business of a purely commercial land, such as groceries, cafés, restaurants, hotels, etc, it must be soundly established and possess a substantial good-will.

“It must be borne in mind that it is necessary for our agents to inspire confidence in circles where they have their centre of action, and to inspire that confidence by outward indications of a commonplace bourgeois existence; by tactful charity and by making themselves useful in societies, associations, communities, and so forth; and by acquiring strong social positions, so that they may be well received and regarded in all quarters.

“While we must limit the expenditure which our agents are permitted to incur, it is necessary that we should give them absolute assurance that any deficit of the undertaking which they carry on would be made good by the service under the head of general expenses.”

Since the annual expenditure of Germany for work of this kind is admitted to amount to 780,000 pounds a year, it may be gathered that the espionage service is a complete one. The sum stated is admittedly spent; how much more is spent it is impossible to conjecture. The spies placed at fixed posts are given salaries varying between two and four pounds a week according to the importance of the post and the duties which the spy is expected to perform. To this is added any out-of-pocket expenses to which the spy may be put in the maintenance of his business or position. These spies at fixed posts are under the control of headquarters at Brussels, Lausanne, and Geneva, whence their salaries are paid monthly under the form of business remittances. There is also a system of inspectorship by means of which each fixed post is visited at regular intervals, either by women or by professed commercial travellers, who collect the written reports in order to avoid possible inspection of these reports by the French postal authorities. Further, this system admits of instructions being given verbally by the travelling inspector to the spy at each fixed post. At the outbreak of the present war the number of fixed spies known to exist in France was over 15,000.

The recruiting of this army of spies was begun by Stieber in 1870, when he requested that there should be sent, to the fourteen departments of France in which occupation was essential to the success of a German attack, about 4,000 farmers, agricultural labourers, and others who should be permanently employed in the several districts, together with an even larger number of women servants to be placed among the various classes of the French population. These, however, were to receive pay from ordinary French commercial sources, and were to be under the control of the higher grade of spies established in businesses or otherwise independently employed at the fixed posts. The latter were specially chosen from among people of Teutonic origin, not only in Germany, but also in Switzerland and Belgium, whence they were sent to take up their posts after receiving the necessary preliminary training to fit them for their work. The occupant of a fixed post at the present time, whether in France or any other country, is nearly always a German, and has at his beck and call a host of other emigrants from Germany, who are legitimately employed in various capacities, have had no government training, and expect no fixed salary for their work. They are the small fry of the business, and do not come into contact with any higher officials than the fixed agent, who enables them to supplement their legitimate salaries by retailing bits of slander and gossip. The absence of one or more of them would make no difference to the system; as a matter of patriotism, they simply retail what they hear to a fellow-countryman, and, in this sense, every German in a foreign country may be reckoned as a spy, though for official purposes only a certain number of secret-service agents exist.

The recognised agent is placed at some point at which he is able to maintain espionage over a garrison, a military post, or something connected with the defensive or offensive organisation of the country concerned. His business at the outset is to be thoroughly agreeable and make himself well liked in the circle in which he moves. Assuming that he is located in a small garrison town, he sets up a business of some kind which will give him admittance to military circles, and, no matter how bad times may be, his business goes on. In the meantime he contributes unostentatiously to charities, attends all entertainments, and does his best to make himself and his business known in the community of which he is a member. Sooner or later, he makes friends out of one or two of his acquaintances; so far as can be seen he leads a benevolent, open, harmless sort of existence, and is a thoroughly good fellow, and eventually he gains close contact with some member of the garrison, either officer or non-commissioned officer. In the latter case, the spy will take care that the non-commissioned officer is in some position of trust where he is able to obtain useful information.

So far as his friends are concerned, the spy proves to be not entirely ignorant of matters military. He manifests a mild interest in drill, formation of troops, fortifications, guns, etc, but he is not in any way keen over these matters. Like any other inhabitant of the country in which he resides, he is willing to discuss the “shop” matters of his associates, and will even indulge in mild arguments, making mistakes and submitting to correction from those more experienced. Gradually he gets more and more into the confidence of his friends, who, while they reveal nothing of importance, let fall a word here and a word there in his hearing, knowing him to be thoroughly trustworthy; out of these various words a fairly detailed report can be compiled. In the meantime, the small fry of the business are constantly bringing gossip. If a new gun is to be mounted, the spy hears about it; if the strength of the garrison is to be altered, the spy is cognisant of the fact; sooner or later, he gets to know domestic details with regard to the officers of the garrison. A certain lieutenant drinks too much, or a captain is very fond of a hand at cards; in the former case the spy is quite willing to drink level with the lieutenant, and in the latter he is willing to lose money to the captain, such money being put down to special expenses, and accounted for in his monthly statement.

It will be seen that in such simple ways these the fixed agent is able to obtain an immense amount of personal and other information by perfectly simple methods. It may be urged that the greater part of this information could be obtained in legitimate ways and with no expense to the German Government; but the system which Stieber inaugurated is above all things thorough, and there is a system at Berlin of tabulating and card-indexing all information received from fixed posts; of analysing, checking, and comparing, until absolute certainty is reached with regard to the accuracy of detail. For instance, a certain newspaper may announce that the armament of certain fortifications has been increased by a new four-inch gun. A fixed agent will add to this information the position of gun, weight of shell, rate of fire per minute, name of officer in control, and the fact that it is mounted on a disappearing platform—details which are noted and checked with a view to their possible usefulness in the future. The extent of this usefulness may be estimated when the fall of Namur or Maubeuge is recalled. The officers in control of the attacking German batteries knew exactly how many guns they had to silence, the position, bore, and rate of fire of these guns, and the points at which their own batteries could best be placed, with a view to fire effect and invisibility. In the case of Maubeuge they knew more: they knew where to find the necessary concrete platforms on which to place their own heavy artillery, in order to silence the French guns—and this must be attributed to the development of the system of fixed posts.

Not only does the Great German General Staff know details of fortifications and technical matters, but it is also kept posted up in the character and abilities of officers who come under the observation of the fixed agent. Reports sent in to headquarters are concerned with personal peculiarities and scandals to an extent undreamed of by the persons concerned. If any officer is open to bribery, the fact is ascertained; if any officer’s wife is open to blackmail, the blackmail is instituted, and the price of silence in every case is information with regard to matters of which the husband is cognisant. Further, the topographical information supplied includes details of the nature and state of roads, telegraphs, bridges, depths of rivers and streams, positions of fords, nature and condition of every building and farm, supplies of forage and food, horses available, and every detail which is likely to be of service. The ordnance-maps supplied to German officers are marvels of map-making; every insignificant cottage, stile, clump of trees, and peculiarity of the landscape is indicated, and, by the use of maps of this kind, the march on Paris in 1870 was carried through without a hitch.

In like manner, all preparations for the Prussian advance through Belgium, and the projected victorious march on Paris, were made and completed years ago, with the assistance of the fixed agents. The German entry into Brussels, when 700,000 men marched through a strange city without the slightest confusion, has been described as a triumph of organisation. This it undoubtedly was; but the credit did not lie with the military commander, for the agents who had been busy through many months preparing the way of the army were responsible for that army’s successful advance. Officers had only to follow detailed instructions presented to them by headquarters.

With equal care the entry to Paris was planned: quarters were assigned to each regiment of the invading army; each officer knew exactly the part that would be his in the spectacle, and every step of the entry to the French capital had been arranged in detail by German fixed agents, who had resided for many years in Northern France, and in Paris itself, as peaceful citizens. Reports of German occupation of French towns and even photographs from the theatre of war draw attention to various houses on which has been chalked—“Spare this house.” In many cases, doubtless, this is intended as a return for unexpectedly hospitable reception, but in many other cases it indicates that the house in question was the residence of a fixed agent, to whom German officers came on their entry to the place in order to learn all that was possible with regard to resources of the town or village, and all that could be told of the movements of the enemy.

It has been urged, and with apparent reason, that the value of espionage ceases as soon as armies take the field, since the work of the spy can only concern preparations for hostilities, and, when war has begun, actual strength decides the issue. This, however, is not the case when German military espionage is in question; in many cases the fixed agents have been so long established at their posts that they rank in the eyes of normal inhabitants as a part of the life of the place, and, by maintaining their positions, they are able to ascertain for the benefit of their own commanders particulars of the dispositions of hostile forces. Elaborate systems of signalling are in use; carrier pigeons are used, but only to a limited extent; the ways of the Red Indians, who made the most perfect spies ever known, are copied in indicating events by the movement of stones, chipping of bark on trees, breaking branches, and other ways little likely to be detected, while the more civilised method of lamp-signalling is also practised. Altogether, the German military spy forms a very efficient and formidable part of the German military force, both before and after the opening of hostilities. His value decreases to a certain extent when action has been entered on, and, in a definite battle like those along the line of the Meuse and the line of the Aisne, he is practically useless, but in case of an advance on the part of the German forces he is invaluable, by reason of the information he can give with regard to the nature of the country and the dispositions of the retreating army.

Chapter Five.Naval Espionage.The routine of naval espionage is very similar in character to that followed by military spies. The naval spy, however, must be a rather more intelligent and highly trained man than his military confrère, and cases that have come to light prove that his position is one of more responsibility, and that he is entrusted with more funds for the carrying out of his work. It is an interesting fact that, for many years past, officers and men of the German naval service have been employed along the East coast of England in compiling extremely detailed plans of places and fortifications. The accuracy of these plans is ascertained by persistent redrawing done by new members of the naval espionage staff, and all changes in building, roadmaking, bridge-construction, and as far as possible the interior work of fortifications, are duly recorded on the Berlin maps. Not that this information is of definite working value at the present time, but the principle of secret-service headquarters is that no item is too trivial for record, and information is acquired without regard to its direct uses, but in view of the fact that it may possibly be of some use at a future date. The adoption of such a principle involves an immense amount of work in checking and sorting the masses of information obtained, but beyond doubt the principle itself has gone far to assure such successes as German arms have obtained, either on land or at sea.In addition to the work of fixed naval posts, stationed at dockyards and harbours, the work of spies at sea must not be overlooked, either in time of peace or in war. In the former case an innocent-looking trawler or private yacht is useful for taking soundings, ascertaining channels, and even locating naval mines used for purposes of harbour defence and fired by land contact. In time of war the services which may be performed by such vessels are even more valuable; the reports of the sinking of three British cruisers by German submarine attack are fairly unanimous with regard to the presence of a trawler in the vicinity of the spot at which the engagement took place. All that can be definitely learned with regard to this trawler is that she was not a British boat, and it is reasonable to assume that her business consisted in signalling to the submarines particulars which they may have been unable to obtain themselves, or in shielding them from sight during their approach towards the cruisers. Although there are no substantial proofs of this assumption, it is hardly likely that the vessel was a trawler engaged in usual and legitimate business.The work of the naval spy in time of peace is best illustrated by the record of cases which have actually come to light through actions taken in the courts. One noteworthy case is that of Sub-Lieutenant Ullmo, a gifted naval officer of the French service, serving in the Republican warshipCarabine. Ullmo was an officer of undoubted ability, but he came under the influence of a female spy, known to him and his fellows as Lison, who persuaded him to set up an establishment for her and managed to secure his assent to a plan by which this establishment, maintained at his expense, was to be converted into an opium-den. So great an ascendancy did Lison gain over her victim that in a period of two years he had spent 3,000 pounds, which was all that was his in the way of capital and income apart from his pay. His position in the service rendered money a necessity, and, once his private fortune was gone, Lison pointed out to him that more money could be obtained. As soon as she spoke of the means by which he could obtain money he repudiated the suggestion, but, by working on his jealousy with regard to her acquaintance with a brother officer, she secured his consent to a bargain by which he was to give up the secret documents kept in a safe on board his ship, in return for a price which was fixed at more than ten times his previous competence. The bargain was to be arranged by the medium of advertisements, and it was through the wording of these advertisements that the plot was detected by the French secret service. Ullmo’s reward for his treachery was degradation from his rank and imprisonment for life, and Lison put in an appearance at his trial in order to watch the proceedings as an uninterested spectator.The system of counter-espionage thus evidenced on the part of a foreign Government has its counterpart in the British service. Since Britain is the most powerful enemy Germany has to fear in a naval sense, it follows that German naval espionage is principally directed against Britain, and that the establishment of naval spies is greater in this country than in any other. It is safe to say, however, that the majority of the fixed posts of the German naval service in Britain are known to the police, and that, as soon as information which, in the opinion of the British naval authorities, is of value, is in danger of being communicated to Germany, action is taken to prevent the transmission of the spies’ reports to headquarters. A case in point is that of Doctor Max Schulz, who, charged with espionage at Devon Assizes, was sentenced to a year and nine months’ imprisonment for acts attempted rather than acts committed.According to his own account, Schulz became implicated in the work of the military branch of the German secret service in 1910, when he was engaged to obtain reports about British military and naval affairs for statistical purposes. Although no more was said, there can be no doubt that Schulz realised quite well the nature of the work he was undertaking, especially as, on the evidence of Sir Rufus Isaacs, who prosecuted at the trial, he was able to offer 500 pounds a year to a British subject for continuous information of a confidential character. He began his career as a spy by ineffectual work in Ireland, following up this by a visit to Toulon, still in search of information. After various adventures, he returned in 1911 to Plymouth, and thence went for a trip up the River Yealm on a yacht called theEgret; here, according to the evidence of Crown witnesses for the prosecution, he was visited by a Mr Duff and a Mr Tarrant, to whom he made overtures with regard to the obtaining of information concerning naval matters.The charges against Schulz, as outlined by the Attorney-General in opening the case, were four in number. The first charge was that, in the summer of 1911: “He, at the borough of Plymouth, having possession or control over knowledge which had been obtained by means of an act which constituted an offence against the Official Secrets Act, communicated or attempted to communicate the same to a person to whom the same ought not in the interest of the State to be communicated at the time.” The second charge amplified the first in that Schulz was accused of having intended to communicate his illegally gained knowledge to the Government of a foreign State. The third and fourth counts against him were that he had “endeavoured to procure Samuel Hugh Duff and Edward Charles Tarrant respectively to communicate to him information relating to the naval affairs of His Majesty which ought not in the interests of the State to be communicated to any person.”Sir Rufus Isaacs stated, in his outline of the case for the prosecution, that Schulz had offered Duff a salary of 500 pounds a year, with a possibility of this sum being doubled, for confidential information. Schulz alleged that the confidential information in question would be published in a German newspaper, but, at the time of Schulz’s arrest, there had been found in his possession a letter which proved the purpose for which the information was required. One passage of the letter which was read in court is enlightening as regards the detailed information required of German naval spies. The passage is as follows:“How do matters stand with the commander and lieutenant respectively? Can nothing at all be expected from them? Reserve officers are no use. They do not procure any valuable secrets because they do not have access to them. Confidential books and reports are what is wanted, and what you must procure at all costs if our relations are to continue.”Sir Rufus Isaacs stated, and the evidence proved, that a man named Tobler, who did not visit England, kept Schulz supplied with money. A number of telegrams were produced, written in code, of which the prosecution had found the key. The deciphered telegrams read: “In greatest danger. Wire immediately 50 pounds.”“In greater trouble and danger. All prepared for departure. Wire immediately 50 pounds and date of meeting.” Instructions from Tobler to Schulz included a list of questions which Schulz was to put to Mr Duff, and the list included the following:I. Are officers or men granted leave, or have those on leave possibly been recalled?II. Is there any sign of coals, stores, ammunition, etc, being accumulated?III. What is the feeling in naval circles?IV. How do officers and men discuss the situation?V. Are crews being increased, are ships being prepared, or has commissioning of ships suddenly taken place?These questions, the Attorney-General pointed out, were intended as tests for Mr Duff. Other questions, put apparently with more serious intent, included the following:I. What is the opinion of officers of the British Navy as to the result of war between England and France, on the one hand, and Germany on the other, and the likelihood of the same over the Morocco question?II. What ships of the Third Division were put out of service on July 23, or about the end of July, or have reduced their crews, and the reasons for so doing?III. How many officers and men are still on board, and why was the programme altered after it was stated that the Third Division should be full up?Before answering these questions Mr Duff communicated with the police, and it was stated in the initial proceedings against Schulz that, if British people usually acted in the way that Mr Duff and Mr Tarrant had done, and in the way that Detective-Sergeant Martin, whom they consulted, had acted, England would have nothing to fear from any system of espionage.The evidence given by Mr Tarrant went to show that Schulz had offered him a salary of 50 pounds a month for acting as “Military and Naval Correspondent” to a German paper, for which Schulz was to act as agent and intermediary. The only defence set up was to the effect that Schulz was abona-fidejournalist, and had no ulterior motive in attempting to obtain information. The Tobler correspondence was too strong evidence to the contrary, and the well-merited sentence of a year and nine months’ imprisonment in the second division was imposed. It is characteristic of the German spy system that, after his release from jail, Schulz was disowned by his previous employers.Later cases, like that of Ernst, to which reference will be made later, go to prove that both in England and France a system of counter-espionage has been organised, which goes far to neutralise such efforts as that detailed above. So persistent is the German thirst for information that one man who came into the British courts as defendant had actually received payment from German sources for information which he was virtually proved to have obtained from Whittaker’s almanac and like sources. This, however, only goes to show that the object of the German secret service is to check such information as it may receive, by means of duplicate and triplicate reports.There is little likelihood of the system of German naval espionage having any definite effect in England until an invasion has been successfully accomplished, for there is a wide difference between learning the strength of a coast defence and overcoming that defence. Both in naval and military matters, also, the plan has long since been adopted of changing orders at irregular intervals, so that, in case of active service requirements, the strength and dispositions of the forces vary from month to month and even from week to week. Signal and telegraphic codes are changed, routine is altered, and, altogether, such differences are effected in various ways that information supplied by spies one week may be quite valueless the next. Not that it is advisable to underrate the spy peril or the value of the German system, but at the same time it is equally unwise to overrate the possibilities of the system. Were another Stieber forthcoming, Germany might yet accomplish all that it set out to do with the assistance of its secret service; but, under present conditions, such success is extremely unlikely.

The routine of naval espionage is very similar in character to that followed by military spies. The naval spy, however, must be a rather more intelligent and highly trained man than his military confrère, and cases that have come to light prove that his position is one of more responsibility, and that he is entrusted with more funds for the carrying out of his work. It is an interesting fact that, for many years past, officers and men of the German naval service have been employed along the East coast of England in compiling extremely detailed plans of places and fortifications. The accuracy of these plans is ascertained by persistent redrawing done by new members of the naval espionage staff, and all changes in building, roadmaking, bridge-construction, and as far as possible the interior work of fortifications, are duly recorded on the Berlin maps. Not that this information is of definite working value at the present time, but the principle of secret-service headquarters is that no item is too trivial for record, and information is acquired without regard to its direct uses, but in view of the fact that it may possibly be of some use at a future date. The adoption of such a principle involves an immense amount of work in checking and sorting the masses of information obtained, but beyond doubt the principle itself has gone far to assure such successes as German arms have obtained, either on land or at sea.

In addition to the work of fixed naval posts, stationed at dockyards and harbours, the work of spies at sea must not be overlooked, either in time of peace or in war. In the former case an innocent-looking trawler or private yacht is useful for taking soundings, ascertaining channels, and even locating naval mines used for purposes of harbour defence and fired by land contact. In time of war the services which may be performed by such vessels are even more valuable; the reports of the sinking of three British cruisers by German submarine attack are fairly unanimous with regard to the presence of a trawler in the vicinity of the spot at which the engagement took place. All that can be definitely learned with regard to this trawler is that she was not a British boat, and it is reasonable to assume that her business consisted in signalling to the submarines particulars which they may have been unable to obtain themselves, or in shielding them from sight during their approach towards the cruisers. Although there are no substantial proofs of this assumption, it is hardly likely that the vessel was a trawler engaged in usual and legitimate business.

The work of the naval spy in time of peace is best illustrated by the record of cases which have actually come to light through actions taken in the courts. One noteworthy case is that of Sub-Lieutenant Ullmo, a gifted naval officer of the French service, serving in the Republican warshipCarabine. Ullmo was an officer of undoubted ability, but he came under the influence of a female spy, known to him and his fellows as Lison, who persuaded him to set up an establishment for her and managed to secure his assent to a plan by which this establishment, maintained at his expense, was to be converted into an opium-den. So great an ascendancy did Lison gain over her victim that in a period of two years he had spent 3,000 pounds, which was all that was his in the way of capital and income apart from his pay. His position in the service rendered money a necessity, and, once his private fortune was gone, Lison pointed out to him that more money could be obtained. As soon as she spoke of the means by which he could obtain money he repudiated the suggestion, but, by working on his jealousy with regard to her acquaintance with a brother officer, she secured his consent to a bargain by which he was to give up the secret documents kept in a safe on board his ship, in return for a price which was fixed at more than ten times his previous competence. The bargain was to be arranged by the medium of advertisements, and it was through the wording of these advertisements that the plot was detected by the French secret service. Ullmo’s reward for his treachery was degradation from his rank and imprisonment for life, and Lison put in an appearance at his trial in order to watch the proceedings as an uninterested spectator.

The system of counter-espionage thus evidenced on the part of a foreign Government has its counterpart in the British service. Since Britain is the most powerful enemy Germany has to fear in a naval sense, it follows that German naval espionage is principally directed against Britain, and that the establishment of naval spies is greater in this country than in any other. It is safe to say, however, that the majority of the fixed posts of the German naval service in Britain are known to the police, and that, as soon as information which, in the opinion of the British naval authorities, is of value, is in danger of being communicated to Germany, action is taken to prevent the transmission of the spies’ reports to headquarters. A case in point is that of Doctor Max Schulz, who, charged with espionage at Devon Assizes, was sentenced to a year and nine months’ imprisonment for acts attempted rather than acts committed.

According to his own account, Schulz became implicated in the work of the military branch of the German secret service in 1910, when he was engaged to obtain reports about British military and naval affairs for statistical purposes. Although no more was said, there can be no doubt that Schulz realised quite well the nature of the work he was undertaking, especially as, on the evidence of Sir Rufus Isaacs, who prosecuted at the trial, he was able to offer 500 pounds a year to a British subject for continuous information of a confidential character. He began his career as a spy by ineffectual work in Ireland, following up this by a visit to Toulon, still in search of information. After various adventures, he returned in 1911 to Plymouth, and thence went for a trip up the River Yealm on a yacht called theEgret; here, according to the evidence of Crown witnesses for the prosecution, he was visited by a Mr Duff and a Mr Tarrant, to whom he made overtures with regard to the obtaining of information concerning naval matters.

The charges against Schulz, as outlined by the Attorney-General in opening the case, were four in number. The first charge was that, in the summer of 1911: “He, at the borough of Plymouth, having possession or control over knowledge which had been obtained by means of an act which constituted an offence against the Official Secrets Act, communicated or attempted to communicate the same to a person to whom the same ought not in the interest of the State to be communicated at the time.” The second charge amplified the first in that Schulz was accused of having intended to communicate his illegally gained knowledge to the Government of a foreign State. The third and fourth counts against him were that he had “endeavoured to procure Samuel Hugh Duff and Edward Charles Tarrant respectively to communicate to him information relating to the naval affairs of His Majesty which ought not in the interests of the State to be communicated to any person.”

Sir Rufus Isaacs stated, in his outline of the case for the prosecution, that Schulz had offered Duff a salary of 500 pounds a year, with a possibility of this sum being doubled, for confidential information. Schulz alleged that the confidential information in question would be published in a German newspaper, but, at the time of Schulz’s arrest, there had been found in his possession a letter which proved the purpose for which the information was required. One passage of the letter which was read in court is enlightening as regards the detailed information required of German naval spies. The passage is as follows:

“How do matters stand with the commander and lieutenant respectively? Can nothing at all be expected from them? Reserve officers are no use. They do not procure any valuable secrets because they do not have access to them. Confidential books and reports are what is wanted, and what you must procure at all costs if our relations are to continue.”

Sir Rufus Isaacs stated, and the evidence proved, that a man named Tobler, who did not visit England, kept Schulz supplied with money. A number of telegrams were produced, written in code, of which the prosecution had found the key. The deciphered telegrams read: “In greatest danger. Wire immediately 50 pounds.”

“In greater trouble and danger. All prepared for departure. Wire immediately 50 pounds and date of meeting.” Instructions from Tobler to Schulz included a list of questions which Schulz was to put to Mr Duff, and the list included the following:

I. Are officers or men granted leave, or have those on leave possibly been recalled?

II. Is there any sign of coals, stores, ammunition, etc, being accumulated?

III. What is the feeling in naval circles?

IV. How do officers and men discuss the situation?

V. Are crews being increased, are ships being prepared, or has commissioning of ships suddenly taken place?

These questions, the Attorney-General pointed out, were intended as tests for Mr Duff. Other questions, put apparently with more serious intent, included the following:

I. What is the opinion of officers of the British Navy as to the result of war between England and France, on the one hand, and Germany on the other, and the likelihood of the same over the Morocco question?

II. What ships of the Third Division were put out of service on July 23, or about the end of July, or have reduced their crews, and the reasons for so doing?

III. How many officers and men are still on board, and why was the programme altered after it was stated that the Third Division should be full up?

Before answering these questions Mr Duff communicated with the police, and it was stated in the initial proceedings against Schulz that, if British people usually acted in the way that Mr Duff and Mr Tarrant had done, and in the way that Detective-Sergeant Martin, whom they consulted, had acted, England would have nothing to fear from any system of espionage.

The evidence given by Mr Tarrant went to show that Schulz had offered him a salary of 50 pounds a month for acting as “Military and Naval Correspondent” to a German paper, for which Schulz was to act as agent and intermediary. The only defence set up was to the effect that Schulz was abona-fidejournalist, and had no ulterior motive in attempting to obtain information. The Tobler correspondence was too strong evidence to the contrary, and the well-merited sentence of a year and nine months’ imprisonment in the second division was imposed. It is characteristic of the German spy system that, after his release from jail, Schulz was disowned by his previous employers.

Later cases, like that of Ernst, to which reference will be made later, go to prove that both in England and France a system of counter-espionage has been organised, which goes far to neutralise such efforts as that detailed above. So persistent is the German thirst for information that one man who came into the British courts as defendant had actually received payment from German sources for information which he was virtually proved to have obtained from Whittaker’s almanac and like sources. This, however, only goes to show that the object of the German secret service is to check such information as it may receive, by means of duplicate and triplicate reports.

There is little likelihood of the system of German naval espionage having any definite effect in England until an invasion has been successfully accomplished, for there is a wide difference between learning the strength of a coast defence and overcoming that defence. Both in naval and military matters, also, the plan has long since been adopted of changing orders at irregular intervals, so that, in case of active service requirements, the strength and dispositions of the forces vary from month to month and even from week to week. Signal and telegraphic codes are changed, routine is altered, and, altogether, such differences are effected in various ways that information supplied by spies one week may be quite valueless the next. Not that it is advisable to underrate the spy peril or the value of the German system, but at the same time it is equally unwise to overrate the possibilities of the system. Were another Stieber forthcoming, Germany might yet accomplish all that it set out to do with the assistance of its secret service; but, under present conditions, such success is extremely unlikely.

Chapter Six.Diplomatic Espionage.The way in which Stieber, as body-servant to Jules Favre, was able to assist in the negotiations for the surrender of Paris in 1870 has already been detailed, and this forms a fair sample of what can be done in the way of diplomatic espionage, as distinctly apart from the gaining of purely military information or details of a definite naval character. But it is only one instance; the spy in the employ of the German Foreign Office is capable of making himself useful in many ways, and into this class of work also the influence of women enters to a very large extent.The woman spy of fiction, though not absolutely a myth, is very rare indeed. The siren of beauty and wit, mysterious as she is fascinating, makes a very pretty picture for a sensational melodrama; but it must be fairly obvious, on reflection, that she would defeat her own ends by the very mystery that is popularly supposed to surround her. Further, diplomats entrusted with confidential and delicate tasks are hard-headed men of the world, capable of seeing through the wiles of such dames of mystery as the fiction-writer would have us believe in, existing in the highest society and able to subjugate a man by a glance. A story has recently been told to the effect that one of these charming adventuresses was able to spoil the work of no less a person than a Russian Ambassador, the said Ambassador being a man of mature years and such judgment as one would expect in the holder of the power that he represented. The spy alleged that the lady in question was able by her charms to throw the Ambassador entirely off his guard, so that his mission was spoiled and he incurred imperial displeasure and lost his post.It is a pretty story, and would pass well as an effort of imagination; the only trouble is that the alleged confessions of the spy include this pretty story as truth, which it most distinctly is not. The affairs of nations are not conducted in such a manner as this, for there is sufficient wisdom in the various Courts of Europe to recognise the existence of all dangers, and to impose on their representatives such safeguards as shall neutralise the attempts that may be made at spoiling treaties and sowing discord by means of pretty women and susceptible men. The reason for the telling of such stories lies in their being extremely plausible, extremely attractive, and extremely saleable.Real diplomatic spying is a much more sordid and much meaner business than the fiction-writer places before his or her readers. It consists in listening at doors, reading and replacing letters, and tricks of the kind which would be perfectly obvious if the person spying were not so thoroughly trustworthy—to outside appearance. The diplomatic spy may be a servant, a military attaché, a courier in the ostensible service of a Government—he may be anything, but always he is a supremely trustworthy person, one who has no need to conceal the fact that he is highly intelligent and well fitted for his post, whatever that may be. His reputation among the people with whom he is brought in contact may be and usually is a matter of years’ standing, for only the absolute assurance of his honesty enables him to carry on his work.It is the recognised duty of all ambassadors, military and naval attachés, and consuls, to collect information in any possible way, and to pay for it, and it may be guessed that their staff of informers is a large one. Further, under the heading of diplomatic spies must be included the internal espionage of Germany, by means of which all the various members of the Royal Family at Berlin are kept under surveillance and reported on. Potsdam neglects nothing in this way, as the Memoirs of Louise of Saxony prove beyond dispute.Some time ago the head official of the system of internal espionage in Germany was exposed at the height of his success, and thus an idea of the actual working and extent of the system was rendered obtainable. The person in question, Colonel Baron von Tausch, established on his own account abureau d’espionage, and carried his investigations to such a point that the Minister of Foreign Affairs, after having made representations to the Kaiser, took action against Von Tausch for libel and conspiracy.From evidence made public at the trial it appeared that Von Tausch, who wished to obtain information for his master with regard to the nationalist movement in Prussian Poland, had ordered Baron von Luetzow to win the affections of the daughter of a Polish noble who was in the front of the nationalist movement, and, by this means, to gain the confidence of the girl’s father. Luetzow complied, won the heart of the girl and the confidence of her father, and then returned to Berlin, leaving the girl behind. This was one instance of the methods used to obtain information.Correspondence, produced in court, introduced into the case the name of Count Philip zu Eulenberg, sometime German Ambassador at Vienna. Eulenberg, one of the boy-friends of the Kaiser, developed into a moral degenerate, and the whole of the Berlin Court—at least, all that part of it which had the best interests of the Kaiser and the Empire at heart—deplored the retention of Eulenberg in the imperial favour. In 1907 Eulenberg’s degeneracy was exposed by Maximilian Harden, editor ofDie Zukunft, who was prosecuted for his audacity in attacking one of the Emperor’s friends, and forced the prosecution to withdraw by stating that he had enough correspondence in his possession to ruin the reputations of members of the Imperial family and half the officers of the Imperial Guards.The correspondence produced at Von Tausch’s trial was chiefly noteworthy for a letter addressed by the chief of the secret police to Eulenberg, in which the former claimed that he had successfully accomplished espionage work which, he hoped, would have the effect of mining the Foreign Minister for good. Shortly after, as evidence showed, Eulenberg sent to Von Tausch the ribbon of a high Austrian Order which had been presented by the Austrian Government, evidently as recognition of services performed in connection with the German Foreign Minister.Numerous scandals were brought to light, all proving that no trick or subterfuge had been too low for Von Tausch’s stooping. It was shown, for instance, that Prince Egon Hohenlohe, as bad a character as Eulenberg, had conceived a dislike for one of the chamberlains employed in the establishment of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. He therefore set Von Tausch to work at ferreting out this man’s humble antecedents, which were then published anonymously in various German papers. The result was a public scandal, and the unfortunate man had to resign his post in consequence.Various other people had discovered that Von Tausch was equal to practically any task of spying with which they cared to entrust him, and, as each one rewarded his efforts with some kind of decoration in addition to more substantial payment, he appeared in court loaded with insignia of various Orders. Naturally, his appearance as defendant in a libel case caused consternation in Berlin, for there was no telling where the revelations concerning his doings would end. Eventually the matter was brought to the notice of the Kaiser himself, and, when the intolerable pride of Wilhelm is taken into account, it is easy to understand that he took all possible steps to prevent further revelations concerning the internal espionage maintained on his Court and relatives from coming to light. Von Tausch was, in the first place, under the orders of the Kaiser himself, and, were more revelations to be made, there was no telling how much of the servant’s doings would be attributed to orders from the master. Conviction was impossible, for Von Tausch knew too much to permit of his being made the enemy of the Imperial Court by imprisonment, or in fact by any punishment. Still, after dismissal from the bar of the ordinary tribunal, he was tried as a Bavarian before a court of honour, and was adjudged to have been guilty of conduct so unbecoming to one in his position as to render him unfit for further service. As a man unfit to associate with gentlemen, he was expelled from the service in disgrace.But Wilhelm remembered his faithful servant after the court of honour had finished with him. Von Tausch was retired into private life with the honours of a diplomatic servant on the retired list; that is to say, he was at liberty to enjoy his very adequate pension, together with such fortune as he had contrived to amass during his term of service as chief of the secret police.Von Tausch is typical of the German service of internal espionage; there is nothing romantic about his work, nothing that is worthy of memory or that shows him in other than a detestable light—and yet the German Courts are constantly under such supervision as he maintained, and with the full concurrence and encouragement of Wilhelm, who believes in vigilance at the cost of honour and of everything that normal men hold as compatible with honour. The private diary of Louise of Saxony has details of the pettiness and meanness of these agents of discord and destroyers of confidence among the highest personages of German Courts.“The King’s spy,” says the diary, “constituted herself post office of Villa Foschwitz—a duty appertaining to her rank, and I wager that she works the black cabinet to perfection. (Cabinet noir. The secret-service headquarters of the German post office.) Of course, I am now careful in all that I write, and advise my friends to be. The spy planted in my household has been permitted to see much of the innocent correspondence passing between me and Leopold. She has reported that I have turned over a new leaf. Result: my debts have been paid. Further result: a gracious letter from the King’s House Marshal praising me for the good influence I am exercising over Leopold. Truly, the world wants to be deceived.”Another extract states: “Caught the Tisch stealing one of my letters. Happily there was nothing incriminating in it, though addressed to Ferdinand—just the letter the Crown Princess would write to a Privy Councillor. But the petty theft indicates that she suspects. Prince George, I am told, receives a report from her every day.”The note of the diary emphasises the littleness of life that permits of the existence of such a system as this, a perpetual sowing of discord by means of the repetition of tittle-tattle which can have no real bearing on affairs of moment. The lady designated “Tisch,” by the way, was but a clumsy exponent of her art, for, discovering that her royal mistress kept a diary, she reported the fact to Frederick, Louise’s husband, who taxed his wife with the existence of the diary and its indiscretions. Thereupon Louise turned upon the Tisch, and informed her that, since she was planted in the royal household for the purpose of playing the serpent, she must confine her work to reporting on comings and goings, on external conduct, so far as Louise herself was concerned.In every royal household of the Empire similar spies are placed, and in every government office as well. Every government office is kept open in Berlin at all hours of the day and night, and, when the Emperor wishes to assure himself that all is working as he would have it, he rings up the particular office from which he requires assurances of efficiency. Or, by means of one of the many telephones that are at the disposal of the War Lord at all hours, he turns out a garrison at the dead of night, in order to be certain that there is full watchfulness and efficiency there. The idea of being always on the alert, always prepared, is at the root of these tricks, and the secret service for internal espionage is maintained for the same purpose—that the people of the Empire and their rulers may be always ready against “the day.”An instance of indirect diplomatic espionage is afforded by the publication of one of the plans for the invasion of England, drawn up by Baron von Edelsheim, a few years ago. Edelsheim proposed to turn into England a force of about two hundred to three hundred thousand men, commanded by officers who havea perfect knowledge of the country. He says: “The preparation for landing operations must be furthered in time of peace to such an extent that in time of war we may feel sure of having the advantage of surprising the enemy by our celerity in mobilising and transporting our troops. The troops which are to be mobilised must be determined in time of peace, their transport by railway, their harbours of embarkation, and the preparations for embarkation, must be prepared in order to ensure the greatest possible celerity. The aim of our operations must be kept entirely secret, and attempts should be made to deceive the enemy, at least with regard to the purpose for which the first operations are undertaken.”Now, the publication of such a paragraph as this, with the certainty of its being translated and republished in English, could serve no useful German purpose on the face of it. Edelsheim was no theoriser speaking without Imperial sanction, or devising a plan apart from the plans of the Junker party. He stated the obvious, and moreover stated an obvious thing which on the face of it was not a wise one for the Junker party to confess, for, if absolute secrecy were an essential, then the very declaration that such a thing as invasion of England was remotely contemplated was against the spirit of the plan. The publication of the paragraph, we may rest assured, was not decided on without good reason, and Edelsheim must rank as a diplomat rather than as a diplomatic spy, for the act comes scarcely under the heading of espionage, widely as that term must be interpreted in the case of the German secret service.As for the diplomatic spy abroad, he is to be found—but not to be recognised—in official circles. It is extremely doubtful whether his pay comes out of the 780,000 pounds set apart annually by Germany for secret-service purposes, for the pay of such men as are employed in hunting out the secrets of foreign diplomatic circles is necessarily extremely high. With regard to the work itself, very little is known. In the other branches of the German secret-service failures are usually conspicuous by their appearances in police-courts and criminal trials; but this disability seldom enters into the life of the diplomatic spy. In the first place, being a man specially selected from among the ranks of naval and military spies, the diplomatic spy seldom makes mistakes—seldom, that is, in comparison with members of the other two branches, who also are remarkably careful to avoid errors of judgment; consequently, there are very few chances of detecting diplomatic spies through their failures. In the second place, diplomatic spies, by reason of the nature of their work, do not come into the criminal courts when they make mistakes and get caught—the nature of their work precludes this possibility, for usually their tasks do not involve any infringement of the penal code as this refers to the spy and his work. Again, diplomatic spies are so highly placed, and so thoroughly trusted, that to bring on them the punishment of normal criminals would cause too much outcry and scandal; their work is neutralised as far as possible by systems of counter-espionage, and in case of one being detected he simply ceases to be employed by his own Government, which disowns all responsibility for his acts.These things render details of the work of diplomatic spies almost impossible to obtain. Several books have been published, purporting to detail the work of diplomatic agents, but their contents may be discounted as far as accuracy goes; they make good reading as fiction, and that is all they are, for the most part. If in any stories detailed in them the writers have told the truth, it may be considered a matter of accident. One case, which may be regarded as authentic, is narrated by Von Blowitz, but it is dated so far back that all the participators in the incident are dead, and it may be said as a whole that the world grows wiser as it grows older, so that the case of which Von Blowitz speaks is no guide to the doings of to-day. Further, that particular case concerns a woman spy, of which class more anon.

The way in which Stieber, as body-servant to Jules Favre, was able to assist in the negotiations for the surrender of Paris in 1870 has already been detailed, and this forms a fair sample of what can be done in the way of diplomatic espionage, as distinctly apart from the gaining of purely military information or details of a definite naval character. But it is only one instance; the spy in the employ of the German Foreign Office is capable of making himself useful in many ways, and into this class of work also the influence of women enters to a very large extent.

The woman spy of fiction, though not absolutely a myth, is very rare indeed. The siren of beauty and wit, mysterious as she is fascinating, makes a very pretty picture for a sensational melodrama; but it must be fairly obvious, on reflection, that she would defeat her own ends by the very mystery that is popularly supposed to surround her. Further, diplomats entrusted with confidential and delicate tasks are hard-headed men of the world, capable of seeing through the wiles of such dames of mystery as the fiction-writer would have us believe in, existing in the highest society and able to subjugate a man by a glance. A story has recently been told to the effect that one of these charming adventuresses was able to spoil the work of no less a person than a Russian Ambassador, the said Ambassador being a man of mature years and such judgment as one would expect in the holder of the power that he represented. The spy alleged that the lady in question was able by her charms to throw the Ambassador entirely off his guard, so that his mission was spoiled and he incurred imperial displeasure and lost his post.

It is a pretty story, and would pass well as an effort of imagination; the only trouble is that the alleged confessions of the spy include this pretty story as truth, which it most distinctly is not. The affairs of nations are not conducted in such a manner as this, for there is sufficient wisdom in the various Courts of Europe to recognise the existence of all dangers, and to impose on their representatives such safeguards as shall neutralise the attempts that may be made at spoiling treaties and sowing discord by means of pretty women and susceptible men. The reason for the telling of such stories lies in their being extremely plausible, extremely attractive, and extremely saleable.

Real diplomatic spying is a much more sordid and much meaner business than the fiction-writer places before his or her readers. It consists in listening at doors, reading and replacing letters, and tricks of the kind which would be perfectly obvious if the person spying were not so thoroughly trustworthy—to outside appearance. The diplomatic spy may be a servant, a military attaché, a courier in the ostensible service of a Government—he may be anything, but always he is a supremely trustworthy person, one who has no need to conceal the fact that he is highly intelligent and well fitted for his post, whatever that may be. His reputation among the people with whom he is brought in contact may be and usually is a matter of years’ standing, for only the absolute assurance of his honesty enables him to carry on his work.

It is the recognised duty of all ambassadors, military and naval attachés, and consuls, to collect information in any possible way, and to pay for it, and it may be guessed that their staff of informers is a large one. Further, under the heading of diplomatic spies must be included the internal espionage of Germany, by means of which all the various members of the Royal Family at Berlin are kept under surveillance and reported on. Potsdam neglects nothing in this way, as the Memoirs of Louise of Saxony prove beyond dispute.

Some time ago the head official of the system of internal espionage in Germany was exposed at the height of his success, and thus an idea of the actual working and extent of the system was rendered obtainable. The person in question, Colonel Baron von Tausch, established on his own account abureau d’espionage, and carried his investigations to such a point that the Minister of Foreign Affairs, after having made representations to the Kaiser, took action against Von Tausch for libel and conspiracy.

From evidence made public at the trial it appeared that Von Tausch, who wished to obtain information for his master with regard to the nationalist movement in Prussian Poland, had ordered Baron von Luetzow to win the affections of the daughter of a Polish noble who was in the front of the nationalist movement, and, by this means, to gain the confidence of the girl’s father. Luetzow complied, won the heart of the girl and the confidence of her father, and then returned to Berlin, leaving the girl behind. This was one instance of the methods used to obtain information.

Correspondence, produced in court, introduced into the case the name of Count Philip zu Eulenberg, sometime German Ambassador at Vienna. Eulenberg, one of the boy-friends of the Kaiser, developed into a moral degenerate, and the whole of the Berlin Court—at least, all that part of it which had the best interests of the Kaiser and the Empire at heart—deplored the retention of Eulenberg in the imperial favour. In 1907 Eulenberg’s degeneracy was exposed by Maximilian Harden, editor ofDie Zukunft, who was prosecuted for his audacity in attacking one of the Emperor’s friends, and forced the prosecution to withdraw by stating that he had enough correspondence in his possession to ruin the reputations of members of the Imperial family and half the officers of the Imperial Guards.

The correspondence produced at Von Tausch’s trial was chiefly noteworthy for a letter addressed by the chief of the secret police to Eulenberg, in which the former claimed that he had successfully accomplished espionage work which, he hoped, would have the effect of mining the Foreign Minister for good. Shortly after, as evidence showed, Eulenberg sent to Von Tausch the ribbon of a high Austrian Order which had been presented by the Austrian Government, evidently as recognition of services performed in connection with the German Foreign Minister.

Numerous scandals were brought to light, all proving that no trick or subterfuge had been too low for Von Tausch’s stooping. It was shown, for instance, that Prince Egon Hohenlohe, as bad a character as Eulenberg, had conceived a dislike for one of the chamberlains employed in the establishment of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. He therefore set Von Tausch to work at ferreting out this man’s humble antecedents, which were then published anonymously in various German papers. The result was a public scandal, and the unfortunate man had to resign his post in consequence.

Various other people had discovered that Von Tausch was equal to practically any task of spying with which they cared to entrust him, and, as each one rewarded his efforts with some kind of decoration in addition to more substantial payment, he appeared in court loaded with insignia of various Orders. Naturally, his appearance as defendant in a libel case caused consternation in Berlin, for there was no telling where the revelations concerning his doings would end. Eventually the matter was brought to the notice of the Kaiser himself, and, when the intolerable pride of Wilhelm is taken into account, it is easy to understand that he took all possible steps to prevent further revelations concerning the internal espionage maintained on his Court and relatives from coming to light. Von Tausch was, in the first place, under the orders of the Kaiser himself, and, were more revelations to be made, there was no telling how much of the servant’s doings would be attributed to orders from the master. Conviction was impossible, for Von Tausch knew too much to permit of his being made the enemy of the Imperial Court by imprisonment, or in fact by any punishment. Still, after dismissal from the bar of the ordinary tribunal, he was tried as a Bavarian before a court of honour, and was adjudged to have been guilty of conduct so unbecoming to one in his position as to render him unfit for further service. As a man unfit to associate with gentlemen, he was expelled from the service in disgrace.

But Wilhelm remembered his faithful servant after the court of honour had finished with him. Von Tausch was retired into private life with the honours of a diplomatic servant on the retired list; that is to say, he was at liberty to enjoy his very adequate pension, together with such fortune as he had contrived to amass during his term of service as chief of the secret police.

Von Tausch is typical of the German service of internal espionage; there is nothing romantic about his work, nothing that is worthy of memory or that shows him in other than a detestable light—and yet the German Courts are constantly under such supervision as he maintained, and with the full concurrence and encouragement of Wilhelm, who believes in vigilance at the cost of honour and of everything that normal men hold as compatible with honour. The private diary of Louise of Saxony has details of the pettiness and meanness of these agents of discord and destroyers of confidence among the highest personages of German Courts.

“The King’s spy,” says the diary, “constituted herself post office of Villa Foschwitz—a duty appertaining to her rank, and I wager that she works the black cabinet to perfection. (Cabinet noir. The secret-service headquarters of the German post office.) Of course, I am now careful in all that I write, and advise my friends to be. The spy planted in my household has been permitted to see much of the innocent correspondence passing between me and Leopold. She has reported that I have turned over a new leaf. Result: my debts have been paid. Further result: a gracious letter from the King’s House Marshal praising me for the good influence I am exercising over Leopold. Truly, the world wants to be deceived.”

Another extract states: “Caught the Tisch stealing one of my letters. Happily there was nothing incriminating in it, though addressed to Ferdinand—just the letter the Crown Princess would write to a Privy Councillor. But the petty theft indicates that she suspects. Prince George, I am told, receives a report from her every day.”

The note of the diary emphasises the littleness of life that permits of the existence of such a system as this, a perpetual sowing of discord by means of the repetition of tittle-tattle which can have no real bearing on affairs of moment. The lady designated “Tisch,” by the way, was but a clumsy exponent of her art, for, discovering that her royal mistress kept a diary, she reported the fact to Frederick, Louise’s husband, who taxed his wife with the existence of the diary and its indiscretions. Thereupon Louise turned upon the Tisch, and informed her that, since she was planted in the royal household for the purpose of playing the serpent, she must confine her work to reporting on comings and goings, on external conduct, so far as Louise herself was concerned.

In every royal household of the Empire similar spies are placed, and in every government office as well. Every government office is kept open in Berlin at all hours of the day and night, and, when the Emperor wishes to assure himself that all is working as he would have it, he rings up the particular office from which he requires assurances of efficiency. Or, by means of one of the many telephones that are at the disposal of the War Lord at all hours, he turns out a garrison at the dead of night, in order to be certain that there is full watchfulness and efficiency there. The idea of being always on the alert, always prepared, is at the root of these tricks, and the secret service for internal espionage is maintained for the same purpose—that the people of the Empire and their rulers may be always ready against “the day.”

An instance of indirect diplomatic espionage is afforded by the publication of one of the plans for the invasion of England, drawn up by Baron von Edelsheim, a few years ago. Edelsheim proposed to turn into England a force of about two hundred to three hundred thousand men, commanded by officers who havea perfect knowledge of the country. He says: “The preparation for landing operations must be furthered in time of peace to such an extent that in time of war we may feel sure of having the advantage of surprising the enemy by our celerity in mobilising and transporting our troops. The troops which are to be mobilised must be determined in time of peace, their transport by railway, their harbours of embarkation, and the preparations for embarkation, must be prepared in order to ensure the greatest possible celerity. The aim of our operations must be kept entirely secret, and attempts should be made to deceive the enemy, at least with regard to the purpose for which the first operations are undertaken.”

Now, the publication of such a paragraph as this, with the certainty of its being translated and republished in English, could serve no useful German purpose on the face of it. Edelsheim was no theoriser speaking without Imperial sanction, or devising a plan apart from the plans of the Junker party. He stated the obvious, and moreover stated an obvious thing which on the face of it was not a wise one for the Junker party to confess, for, if absolute secrecy were an essential, then the very declaration that such a thing as invasion of England was remotely contemplated was against the spirit of the plan. The publication of the paragraph, we may rest assured, was not decided on without good reason, and Edelsheim must rank as a diplomat rather than as a diplomatic spy, for the act comes scarcely under the heading of espionage, widely as that term must be interpreted in the case of the German secret service.

As for the diplomatic spy abroad, he is to be found—but not to be recognised—in official circles. It is extremely doubtful whether his pay comes out of the 780,000 pounds set apart annually by Germany for secret-service purposes, for the pay of such men as are employed in hunting out the secrets of foreign diplomatic circles is necessarily extremely high. With regard to the work itself, very little is known. In the other branches of the German secret-service failures are usually conspicuous by their appearances in police-courts and criminal trials; but this disability seldom enters into the life of the diplomatic spy. In the first place, being a man specially selected from among the ranks of naval and military spies, the diplomatic spy seldom makes mistakes—seldom, that is, in comparison with members of the other two branches, who also are remarkably careful to avoid errors of judgment; consequently, there are very few chances of detecting diplomatic spies through their failures. In the second place, diplomatic spies, by reason of the nature of their work, do not come into the criminal courts when they make mistakes and get caught—the nature of their work precludes this possibility, for usually their tasks do not involve any infringement of the penal code as this refers to the spy and his work. Again, diplomatic spies are so highly placed, and so thoroughly trusted, that to bring on them the punishment of normal criminals would cause too much outcry and scandal; their work is neutralised as far as possible by systems of counter-espionage, and in case of one being detected he simply ceases to be employed by his own Government, which disowns all responsibility for his acts.

These things render details of the work of diplomatic spies almost impossible to obtain. Several books have been published, purporting to detail the work of diplomatic agents, but their contents may be discounted as far as accuracy goes; they make good reading as fiction, and that is all they are, for the most part. If in any stories detailed in them the writers have told the truth, it may be considered a matter of accident. One case, which may be regarded as authentic, is narrated by Von Blowitz, but it is dated so far back that all the participators in the incident are dead, and it may be said as a whole that the world grows wiser as it grows older, so that the case of which Von Blowitz speaks is no guide to the doings of to-day. Further, that particular case concerns a woman spy, of which class more anon.

Chapter Seven.Communications.Such reports as the German agents at fixed posts have to make to their employers are communicated, whenever possible, by means of the travelling inspectors, for the postal service is not to be trusted where espionage is concerned. During the French Revolution there was originated what was known as the “Cabinet Noir,” or secret service of the post office in France, of which the duties were to intercept, open, and where desirable destroy or replace, such letters as were deemed unfit to reach their senders, in the best interests of the State. Berlin, with its genius for developing other people’s inventions, adopted this idea, and made of it one of the regular weapons of the secret service. It operates not only internally, but also internationally, and any suspected letters are freely opened and read; sometimes they are suppressed altogether from their recipients; sometimes false letters, giving contrary instructions, are substituted, and suspected spies of other Powers are caught by this means.The idea has been generally adopted by most countries; but, in practically any country but Germany, the idea of personal and national honour is sufficiently strong to keep absolutely secret the doings behind official doors. For instance, at the trial of the spy Ernst at Bow Street, it came as a surprise to many people to learn that the British postal authorities possessed powers under which they might open any suspected missives, with a view to ascertaining their contents when deemed essential for the safety and well-being of the State. It is common knowledge in Germany that no letter is safe from being opened, and the powers which the British post offices exercise only in case of genuine suspicion are utilised in Germany to a far greater extent. Further, the officials at the Berlin post office “Cabinet Noir” do not always maintain the absolute secrecy that their work demands, and sometimes there creep out details of other things as well as espionage. Apparently, every German official has his price in his own country, and the habit of spying is so ingrained in the race that commercial secrets are bought and sold not only in the interests of German firms as a whole, but in the interests of one rival German firm which desires to steal a market from another firm of Teutonic name and standing. It appears that Stieber, by organising his colossal system of espionage, laid the foundations of national pettiness and deceit—the German character as a whole has been undermined by the knowledge that nobody is safe from espionage, and all acts are liable to be reported, while blackmail is a flourishing industry.In the event of active service, the German system of communication between spies and the army in the field is very largely on the lines laid down by Klembovski, whose “Military Espionage in Peace and War” is one of the recognised textbooks on espionage. So clearly and well does Klembovski indicate the methods to be followed, that certain passages of his work with regard to this matter of communications are worthy of reproduction as they stand in his original work, in order to assist in a conception of the means employed.It is not always possible, he says, for the spies to report personally to their chief about the results of their investigations; therefore it is of interest to consider the methods of communication by means of which they can forward the required information to the stipulated place. These methods of communication are to be grouped in three divisions, according to their nature: 1. Optical signals; 2. Agreed communications by writing; 3. Despatches in cipher.1.Optical signals.—In operations in heavily wooded districts which obstruct reconnoitring by cavalry, or in the operations of detachments which consist only of infantry, the assurance of guarding against danger which is obtained by means of the despatch of patrols in the direction of the enemy embraces no especially broad stretch in the front of the troops. In such cases the duty of reconnaissance can be allotted to spies, who should collect the simplest and fullest possible information about the enemy. For example: presence or absence of the enemy in certain directions and at certain distances; the approximate strength of his troops; whether the enemy is on the march, at rest, or occupying a position. Such information is especially of importance to such detachments as possess cavalry, for the commander of the detachment can, if he has fresh knowledge of the presence and dispositions of the enemy, execute cavalry reconnaissances far better than he could without the knowledge to be obtained by spies. He can estimate the number and strength of the patrols which he intends to send out, and can give them the correct direction of marching to achieve their purpose, etc.For communicating such information the simplest signals are desirable. Signals should be employed which on the one hand will not arouse the suspicions of the enemy, and on the other hand will not require special instructions and explanations, and will not occupy too much time either in preparation or sending.If the country to the front of the troops offers a wide view, a spy sent on in advance can make fires, whose number and arrangement has a previously agreed meaning. Among the enemy’s outposts the making of fires will seldom be practicable, since it would at once arouse suspicion. In these cases the spy can make use of houses which can be seen from a distance on all sides, since the appearance and disappearance of a light in the windows, or the opening and shutting of the shutters, can have a recognised sense and meaning for the troops from whom the spy is sent.Optical communication of news is seldom possible in wooded country, or at any rate only if the troops advance, and not if they retreat or remain stationary. In these cases the spy sent in advance can inform the troops by various agreed signs, such as breaking or tying together small trees and branches, moving turf, writing agreed-on signs with chalk on bark of trees, fences, houses, and big stones or rocks. Smugglers in some Russian districts use little stones, which they put down by the way on single big stones, heaps of earth, and leaves; as the number and position of the stones with regard to one another varies, so the smugglers mutually impart valuable information to each other. This method should be borne in mind for adoption by an army in the field.2.Agreed communications by writing.—In many cases secret communication by writing can be carried on in the guise of quite ordinary correspondence, in which the speech is of trade and family matters, etc, so that a stranger, who was not initiated into the secret meanings of the special words, would attribute no special meaning to them. Such letters would be addressed to persons who are prominent through their business in official positions—lesser state officials and merchants, for instance.In July 1887, at the Imperial Court of Justice at Leipzig, the trial took place of the Alsatians—Klein and Greber for espionage. In the indictment of the public prosecutor it was said, among other things, that the defendant Klein had never been directly in correspondence with the Bureau at whose head was Colonel Vincent, but he knew that his despatches had been communicated to the War Office from which Colonel Vincent took his orders. In order to arouse no suspicion, the correspondence was given the appearance of letters which passed between relatives; herein lay the reason for the constant repetition of Christian names, and the good wishes for Uncle, Aunt, and other persons who certainly did not exist, or under whose names personalities would be understood that were very well-known to the French secret service.Usually the sender of such correspondence agrees with the recipient as to the way in which the communications shall be read. For example, in 1650 Prince Condé, who lay in prison on account of participation in the plot against the Guises and Catherine de Medici, received a letter which, perused in the ordinary way, could arouse no suspicion. But, in reading it, Condé missed out every other line, obtaining by this means a perfect meaning to fit the situation in which he was placed.There is also a mechanical method of conducting a secret correspondence, for the deciphering of which both sender and recipient must have “castings,” or small metal plates exactly similar, which are divided by lines into squares. Some of the squares are cut out, the two plates being kept exactly similar and then the sender lays the square plate on the paper and writes his message in his usual writing on the cut-out squares; then he takes the plate from the paper and fills in the empty squares with casually chosen words, taking care, however, that some meaning is made from the double writing, so as to replace the real meaning when the plate is applied. On receipt of the letter the addressee lays his square on it, and comfortably reads everything that interests him, since the superfluous words which the sender wrote later are covered by the squares in the plate which have been left by the cutting-out.All complex codes and similar means of communication occupy much time, so they are not for spies to use in time of war, though one can employ them in peace time. Certain solutions can be employed as inks, so that, when dry, they leave no trace on the paper; then one has only to warm the paper over a lamp, and the writing stands out clearly. This method, however, has been very largely used, and a blank sheet of paper is always an object of suspicion. And, in view of the meaning which an apparently simple letter may bear to eyes that can decipher the hidden meaning, it should be a rule in war to destroy all captured correspondence of the enemy. This rule should also be observed on the arrest of any suspected person.3.Cipher correspondence.—There are a great number of systems of cipher-writing; one of the simplest is described in the following letter of Marshal Soult to General Neil, dated September 26, 1806, in which Soult writes: “His Majesty advises me to agree upon a cipher with you, which you will have to use in future in your correspondence with the Chief of Staff of the Army. In the execution of this you can, in my opinion, best make use of a pamphlet (of which the title is given in the letter). The first figure will give the number of the page; the second figure the line, reckoned from above, not counting the heading. The third number will serve as indication of the required word or letter, and give its position in the line indicated by the second figure: if the figure means a whole word, you will underline it; if it only means a letter, you will not do so. Commas must be put between the indicating figures.”The disadvantages of this system consisted in the slowness of construction and deciphering of the message, since it would almost always be necessary to indicate not whole words, but each letter separately, for which three figures are necessary each time. To avoid the latter disadvantage a dictionary can be employed for the execution of the cipher, whereby in most cases one could succeed in giving the whole word with two figures.A certain officer proposed to set up for this purpose a special military dictionary, similar to the marine signal-books existing in all countries. In this dictionary one could enter in alphabetical order all figures, letters, constantly occurring syllables, and complete military expressions. The officer in question was of the opinion that 3,000 ciphers would be quite enough to form a complete code. Thus all figures, letters, words, etc, would be numbered in the book in succession from beginning to end. In the preparation of reports one could then indicate by one cipher a figure, a letter, a syllable, and sometimes a whole word or even a whole phrase.The disadvantage of such a system consists in that its foundation is always the same, and that the printed dictionary could easily be secretly obtained from all neighbouring States. In order to obviate this, a few alterations were subsequently proposed. One alteration was to the effect that one could take a given number to serve as a key; in preparing reports the key-number would always be added to the number under which is designated the required word in the dictionary. It may be assumed that the word “regiment” is required to be coded, and this word is number 500 in the dictionary; the key-number is 25; so in the report the word is indicated by 525. It is of course obvious that one could subtract, instead of adding, the key-number.Another alternative consists in having two different key-numbers. In the report the words are indicated by figures always changing, first in the case of the one, and then of the other key-number. In this way one and the same word, indicated twice in the report, may each time be indicated differently. For instance, the word “division” is number 765 in the word-book; the key-numbers are 5,000 and 6,125. The first time the word “division” is indicated by the number 4,235 (that is, 5,000—765) and the second time by 5,360 (that is, 6,125—765).The main disadvantage of all these various means of communication lies in that a book is essential, from which the deciphering will have to be done. The book in question is easily lost, or is not at hand at the required moment, and then the cipher is not only useless, but the work caused in obtaining the message is wasted.An instance of this occurred in 1870, when one of the German generals received a message which he could not decipher at once, since the dictionary which the headquarter staff had arranged with him as a code-book was in a wagon which had been left behind. The same misfortune befell the commander of a French territorial division at Châlons-sur-Marne, who could not decipher a telegram, since by an oversight he had sent his cipher with the archives to Château Thierry.For the ciphering of messages by spies the above systems are also disadvantageous because most spies can carry no books with them on their missions.Thus writes Klembovski, who made a study of espionage on active service, but was unable to arrive at any method of transmitting messages which should be free of marked disadvantages. As to his contentions regarding the use of ciphers, it has been stated—though on what authority is hard to ascertain—that the German secret service will decipher any message in any language in a given space of time, no matter what code may be used. In one of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories there is a means shown of deciphering practically any code in which the characters are constant—that is, in which the same sign represents the same letter each time it is used—and it is quite probable that one used to the deciphering of code-messages could work out any code. For a code must be built up on some system, and therefore some reversal of the system must exist by means of which the message can be deciphered without the aid of a key.Berlin recognises the uses of pseudo-clergy in time of war, for quite a number of German village clergy are impecunious and of a distinctly low class, and thus the army is not averse to their imposture. Men of this kind are selected for service in the field, where it is anticipated they can make themselves useful, under the pretext of ministering to the wounded, by extracting information about the movements of troops, etc. It is arranged that, in the event of a retreat, the clerical spy shall convey to the pursuing force detailed information regarding the losses in men and guns of those retreating, the numbers of men still unwounded, and themoralof the troops, by means of signals as detailed above—broken branches of trees, specially placed stones, and other things.One favourite system of espionage on active service, from the German point of view, consists in the use of the Red Cross van. Under the rules governing international war, the Red Cross van may go anywhere, even into the enemy’s lines, to pick up wounded, and the German forces, “making war by all the violent means at their command,” have not scrupled to make use of Red Cross vans both for espionage work and as shelter for machine-guns—authentic cases are reported in which treacherous fire has been opened on the troops of the Allies in this way. Another method of obtaining information consists in sending two scouts out with a coil of wire, when in the presence of the enemy. The scouts, bearing one end of the wire, are instructed to approach the enemy’s lines, at night, and of course, when they have approached within sight, they are shot. The wire no longer “pays out” from the end kept in the lines, and the length unrolled, when hauled back and measured, gives the artillery-range almost to a nicety.Communications in times of peace are never made direct to headquarters. The fixed spies, as already remarked, employ such agents as they may choose and their rate of pay allows. Their reports are collected by the travelling spies, who are under the control of agents of sections, stationed in Belgium and Switzerland (up to the outbreak of war) but not in Germany. From the agents of sections reports go to the Central Bureau of the secret service at Berlin, where sorting and classification of news supplied is pursued, and all that part of the world which could possibly be inimical to Germany is card-indexed. It is a sordid, sorry, mean business, utterly devoid of the romance and glamour with which the spy of fiction has invested it, and, whatever the fate of German armies in the field may be, the secret service of Germany has done more than anything else to pervert the moral sense of the nation.

Such reports as the German agents at fixed posts have to make to their employers are communicated, whenever possible, by means of the travelling inspectors, for the postal service is not to be trusted where espionage is concerned. During the French Revolution there was originated what was known as the “Cabinet Noir,” or secret service of the post office in France, of which the duties were to intercept, open, and where desirable destroy or replace, such letters as were deemed unfit to reach their senders, in the best interests of the State. Berlin, with its genius for developing other people’s inventions, adopted this idea, and made of it one of the regular weapons of the secret service. It operates not only internally, but also internationally, and any suspected letters are freely opened and read; sometimes they are suppressed altogether from their recipients; sometimes false letters, giving contrary instructions, are substituted, and suspected spies of other Powers are caught by this means.

The idea has been generally adopted by most countries; but, in practically any country but Germany, the idea of personal and national honour is sufficiently strong to keep absolutely secret the doings behind official doors. For instance, at the trial of the spy Ernst at Bow Street, it came as a surprise to many people to learn that the British postal authorities possessed powers under which they might open any suspected missives, with a view to ascertaining their contents when deemed essential for the safety and well-being of the State. It is common knowledge in Germany that no letter is safe from being opened, and the powers which the British post offices exercise only in case of genuine suspicion are utilised in Germany to a far greater extent. Further, the officials at the Berlin post office “Cabinet Noir” do not always maintain the absolute secrecy that their work demands, and sometimes there creep out details of other things as well as espionage. Apparently, every German official has his price in his own country, and the habit of spying is so ingrained in the race that commercial secrets are bought and sold not only in the interests of German firms as a whole, but in the interests of one rival German firm which desires to steal a market from another firm of Teutonic name and standing. It appears that Stieber, by organising his colossal system of espionage, laid the foundations of national pettiness and deceit—the German character as a whole has been undermined by the knowledge that nobody is safe from espionage, and all acts are liable to be reported, while blackmail is a flourishing industry.

In the event of active service, the German system of communication between spies and the army in the field is very largely on the lines laid down by Klembovski, whose “Military Espionage in Peace and War” is one of the recognised textbooks on espionage. So clearly and well does Klembovski indicate the methods to be followed, that certain passages of his work with regard to this matter of communications are worthy of reproduction as they stand in his original work, in order to assist in a conception of the means employed.

It is not always possible, he says, for the spies to report personally to their chief about the results of their investigations; therefore it is of interest to consider the methods of communication by means of which they can forward the required information to the stipulated place. These methods of communication are to be grouped in three divisions, according to their nature: 1. Optical signals; 2. Agreed communications by writing; 3. Despatches in cipher.

1.Optical signals.—In operations in heavily wooded districts which obstruct reconnoitring by cavalry, or in the operations of detachments which consist only of infantry, the assurance of guarding against danger which is obtained by means of the despatch of patrols in the direction of the enemy embraces no especially broad stretch in the front of the troops. In such cases the duty of reconnaissance can be allotted to spies, who should collect the simplest and fullest possible information about the enemy. For example: presence or absence of the enemy in certain directions and at certain distances; the approximate strength of his troops; whether the enemy is on the march, at rest, or occupying a position. Such information is especially of importance to such detachments as possess cavalry, for the commander of the detachment can, if he has fresh knowledge of the presence and dispositions of the enemy, execute cavalry reconnaissances far better than he could without the knowledge to be obtained by spies. He can estimate the number and strength of the patrols which he intends to send out, and can give them the correct direction of marching to achieve their purpose, etc.

For communicating such information the simplest signals are desirable. Signals should be employed which on the one hand will not arouse the suspicions of the enemy, and on the other hand will not require special instructions and explanations, and will not occupy too much time either in preparation or sending.

If the country to the front of the troops offers a wide view, a spy sent on in advance can make fires, whose number and arrangement has a previously agreed meaning. Among the enemy’s outposts the making of fires will seldom be practicable, since it would at once arouse suspicion. In these cases the spy can make use of houses which can be seen from a distance on all sides, since the appearance and disappearance of a light in the windows, or the opening and shutting of the shutters, can have a recognised sense and meaning for the troops from whom the spy is sent.

Optical communication of news is seldom possible in wooded country, or at any rate only if the troops advance, and not if they retreat or remain stationary. In these cases the spy sent in advance can inform the troops by various agreed signs, such as breaking or tying together small trees and branches, moving turf, writing agreed-on signs with chalk on bark of trees, fences, houses, and big stones or rocks. Smugglers in some Russian districts use little stones, which they put down by the way on single big stones, heaps of earth, and leaves; as the number and position of the stones with regard to one another varies, so the smugglers mutually impart valuable information to each other. This method should be borne in mind for adoption by an army in the field.

2.Agreed communications by writing.—In many cases secret communication by writing can be carried on in the guise of quite ordinary correspondence, in which the speech is of trade and family matters, etc, so that a stranger, who was not initiated into the secret meanings of the special words, would attribute no special meaning to them. Such letters would be addressed to persons who are prominent through their business in official positions—lesser state officials and merchants, for instance.

In July 1887, at the Imperial Court of Justice at Leipzig, the trial took place of the Alsatians—Klein and Greber for espionage. In the indictment of the public prosecutor it was said, among other things, that the defendant Klein had never been directly in correspondence with the Bureau at whose head was Colonel Vincent, but he knew that his despatches had been communicated to the War Office from which Colonel Vincent took his orders. In order to arouse no suspicion, the correspondence was given the appearance of letters which passed between relatives; herein lay the reason for the constant repetition of Christian names, and the good wishes for Uncle, Aunt, and other persons who certainly did not exist, or under whose names personalities would be understood that were very well-known to the French secret service.

Usually the sender of such correspondence agrees with the recipient as to the way in which the communications shall be read. For example, in 1650 Prince Condé, who lay in prison on account of participation in the plot against the Guises and Catherine de Medici, received a letter which, perused in the ordinary way, could arouse no suspicion. But, in reading it, Condé missed out every other line, obtaining by this means a perfect meaning to fit the situation in which he was placed.

There is also a mechanical method of conducting a secret correspondence, for the deciphering of which both sender and recipient must have “castings,” or small metal plates exactly similar, which are divided by lines into squares. Some of the squares are cut out, the two plates being kept exactly similar and then the sender lays the square plate on the paper and writes his message in his usual writing on the cut-out squares; then he takes the plate from the paper and fills in the empty squares with casually chosen words, taking care, however, that some meaning is made from the double writing, so as to replace the real meaning when the plate is applied. On receipt of the letter the addressee lays his square on it, and comfortably reads everything that interests him, since the superfluous words which the sender wrote later are covered by the squares in the plate which have been left by the cutting-out.

All complex codes and similar means of communication occupy much time, so they are not for spies to use in time of war, though one can employ them in peace time. Certain solutions can be employed as inks, so that, when dry, they leave no trace on the paper; then one has only to warm the paper over a lamp, and the writing stands out clearly. This method, however, has been very largely used, and a blank sheet of paper is always an object of suspicion. And, in view of the meaning which an apparently simple letter may bear to eyes that can decipher the hidden meaning, it should be a rule in war to destroy all captured correspondence of the enemy. This rule should also be observed on the arrest of any suspected person.

3.Cipher correspondence.—There are a great number of systems of cipher-writing; one of the simplest is described in the following letter of Marshal Soult to General Neil, dated September 26, 1806, in which Soult writes: “His Majesty advises me to agree upon a cipher with you, which you will have to use in future in your correspondence with the Chief of Staff of the Army. In the execution of this you can, in my opinion, best make use of a pamphlet (of which the title is given in the letter). The first figure will give the number of the page; the second figure the line, reckoned from above, not counting the heading. The third number will serve as indication of the required word or letter, and give its position in the line indicated by the second figure: if the figure means a whole word, you will underline it; if it only means a letter, you will not do so. Commas must be put between the indicating figures.”

The disadvantages of this system consisted in the slowness of construction and deciphering of the message, since it would almost always be necessary to indicate not whole words, but each letter separately, for which three figures are necessary each time. To avoid the latter disadvantage a dictionary can be employed for the execution of the cipher, whereby in most cases one could succeed in giving the whole word with two figures.

A certain officer proposed to set up for this purpose a special military dictionary, similar to the marine signal-books existing in all countries. In this dictionary one could enter in alphabetical order all figures, letters, constantly occurring syllables, and complete military expressions. The officer in question was of the opinion that 3,000 ciphers would be quite enough to form a complete code. Thus all figures, letters, words, etc, would be numbered in the book in succession from beginning to end. In the preparation of reports one could then indicate by one cipher a figure, a letter, a syllable, and sometimes a whole word or even a whole phrase.

The disadvantage of such a system consists in that its foundation is always the same, and that the printed dictionary could easily be secretly obtained from all neighbouring States. In order to obviate this, a few alterations were subsequently proposed. One alteration was to the effect that one could take a given number to serve as a key; in preparing reports the key-number would always be added to the number under which is designated the required word in the dictionary. It may be assumed that the word “regiment” is required to be coded, and this word is number 500 in the dictionary; the key-number is 25; so in the report the word is indicated by 525. It is of course obvious that one could subtract, instead of adding, the key-number.

Another alternative consists in having two different key-numbers. In the report the words are indicated by figures always changing, first in the case of the one, and then of the other key-number. In this way one and the same word, indicated twice in the report, may each time be indicated differently. For instance, the word “division” is number 765 in the word-book; the key-numbers are 5,000 and 6,125. The first time the word “division” is indicated by the number 4,235 (that is, 5,000—765) and the second time by 5,360 (that is, 6,125—765).

The main disadvantage of all these various means of communication lies in that a book is essential, from which the deciphering will have to be done. The book in question is easily lost, or is not at hand at the required moment, and then the cipher is not only useless, but the work caused in obtaining the message is wasted.

An instance of this occurred in 1870, when one of the German generals received a message which he could not decipher at once, since the dictionary which the headquarter staff had arranged with him as a code-book was in a wagon which had been left behind. The same misfortune befell the commander of a French territorial division at Châlons-sur-Marne, who could not decipher a telegram, since by an oversight he had sent his cipher with the archives to Château Thierry.

For the ciphering of messages by spies the above systems are also disadvantageous because most spies can carry no books with them on their missions.

Thus writes Klembovski, who made a study of espionage on active service, but was unable to arrive at any method of transmitting messages which should be free of marked disadvantages. As to his contentions regarding the use of ciphers, it has been stated—though on what authority is hard to ascertain—that the German secret service will decipher any message in any language in a given space of time, no matter what code may be used. In one of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories there is a means shown of deciphering practically any code in which the characters are constant—that is, in which the same sign represents the same letter each time it is used—and it is quite probable that one used to the deciphering of code-messages could work out any code. For a code must be built up on some system, and therefore some reversal of the system must exist by means of which the message can be deciphered without the aid of a key.

Berlin recognises the uses of pseudo-clergy in time of war, for quite a number of German village clergy are impecunious and of a distinctly low class, and thus the army is not averse to their imposture. Men of this kind are selected for service in the field, where it is anticipated they can make themselves useful, under the pretext of ministering to the wounded, by extracting information about the movements of troops, etc. It is arranged that, in the event of a retreat, the clerical spy shall convey to the pursuing force detailed information regarding the losses in men and guns of those retreating, the numbers of men still unwounded, and themoralof the troops, by means of signals as detailed above—broken branches of trees, specially placed stones, and other things.

One favourite system of espionage on active service, from the German point of view, consists in the use of the Red Cross van. Under the rules governing international war, the Red Cross van may go anywhere, even into the enemy’s lines, to pick up wounded, and the German forces, “making war by all the violent means at their command,” have not scrupled to make use of Red Cross vans both for espionage work and as shelter for machine-guns—authentic cases are reported in which treacherous fire has been opened on the troops of the Allies in this way. Another method of obtaining information consists in sending two scouts out with a coil of wire, when in the presence of the enemy. The scouts, bearing one end of the wire, are instructed to approach the enemy’s lines, at night, and of course, when they have approached within sight, they are shot. The wire no longer “pays out” from the end kept in the lines, and the length unrolled, when hauled back and measured, gives the artillery-range almost to a nicety.

Communications in times of peace are never made direct to headquarters. The fixed spies, as already remarked, employ such agents as they may choose and their rate of pay allows. Their reports are collected by the travelling spies, who are under the control of agents of sections, stationed in Belgium and Switzerland (up to the outbreak of war) but not in Germany. From the agents of sections reports go to the Central Bureau of the secret service at Berlin, where sorting and classification of news supplied is pursued, and all that part of the world which could possibly be inimical to Germany is card-indexed. It is a sordid, sorry, mean business, utterly devoid of the romance and glamour with which the spy of fiction has invested it, and, whatever the fate of German armies in the field may be, the secret service of Germany has done more than anything else to pervert the moral sense of the nation.

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