By every subtle and underhand means in her power Germany has prepared for her supreme effort to conquer us. Armies of her spies have swarmed, and still swarm, over Great Britain, though their presence has been, and is even to-day, officially denied.
The method adopted at the outset was to scatter secret agents broadcast, and to allot to each the collection of certain information. Men, and women too, in all walks of life have made observations, prepared plans, noted the number of horses locally, the fodder supplies, the direction of telegraph-lines, the quickest method of destroying communications, blowing up tunnels, etc.; in fact, any information which might be of use in the event of a raid upon our shores.
Each group of spies has acted under the direction of a secret-agent, termed a "fixed post," and all have been, in turn, visited at periods varying from one month to six weeks by a person not likely to be suspected—usually in the guise of commercial-traveller,[Pg 58] debt-collector, or insurance-agent, who collected the reports and made payments—the usual stipend being ten pounds per month. Some spies in the higher walks of life were, of course, paid well, as much as one thousand pounds a year being given in one case—that of a lady who, until recently, lived in Kensington—and in another to a German who, until a few weeks ago, was highly popular in the diplomatic circle. The chief bureau, to which all reports from England were sent, was an innocent-looking office in the Montagne de la Cour, in Brussels—hence Ostend was so often made a rendezvous between spies and traitors.
It is certainly as well that the authorities have already taken precautions to guard our reservoirs. As far back as five years ago, a large number of the principal water supplies in England were reconnoitred by a band of itinerant musicians, who, though they played mournful airs in the streets, were really a group of very wide-awake German officers. They devoted three months to the metropolis—where they succeeded in making a complete plan of the water-mains supplying East London—and then afterwards visited Manchester, Glasgow, Birmingham, Liverpool, Leeds, and Newcastle. At the latter place they were detected, and being warned by the authorities, fled. They were "warned" because at that time there was no Act to deal with them.
[Pg 59]
Just at this juncture a most fortunate incident occurred, though probably it will be met with an official denial. A young German who had been making observations around Rosyth and beneath the Forth Bridge, was detected, and fled. The police sought him out and he was compelled to again fly without paying his rent, leaving his suit-case behind. After a month the landlady took this bag to the police, who, on opening it, found a quantity of documents, which were sealed up and sent to London. They were soon found to be most instructive, for not only was there a list of names of persons hitherto unsuspected of espionage, but also a little book containing the secret code used by the spies! Needless to say, this has been of the greatest use to those engaged in the work of contra-espionage. Of the good work done by the latter, the public, of course, know nothing, but it may be stated that many a confidential report destined for Berlin was intercepted before it reached the spy's post-office, the shop of the barber Ernst, in London—to which I will later on refer—and many a judicious hint has been given which has caused the suspect to pack his, or her, belongings and return by the Hook of Holland route.
East Anglia has, of course, been the happy hunting ground of spies, and the counties of Lincoln, Norfolk, Suffolk and Essex have, long ago, been very thoroughly surveyed, and[Pg 60] every preparation made for a raid. It was found—as far back as four years ago—that next door, or in the vicinity of most village post-offices near the coast-line of those counties, a foreigner had taken up his residence, that German hairdressers and jewellers were everywhere setting up shops where custom did not warrant it; that Germans took sea-side furnished houses or went as paying guests in the country, even in winter; while, of course, the number of German waiters—usually passing as Austrians—had increased greatly.
When the Kaiser rented Highcliffe Castle, in Hampshire, under the pretext that he was ill, he brought with him no fewer than thirty secretaries. Why? A foreigner who comes here to recuperate does not want thirty secretaries—even though he may be an Emperor! Napoleon never wanted such a crowd of scribblers about him.
But the truth was that these thirty secretaries were engaged with their Imperial master-spy in reorganising and perfecting the various sections of his amazing spy-system in this country—a system that the British Government were with culpable untruthfulness declaring only existed in the imagination of a novelist—myself. I wrote pointing out this, but only execrations again fell upon my unfortunate head. I was laughed at as a "sensationalist," scorned by the Party of Criminal Apathy, and a dead set was made[Pg 61] at me by a certain section of the Press to jeer at, and crush myself and all my works into oblivion.
Let us go a step further. Mr. Anthony Nugent, who writes with considerable authority in the Globe, shall here speak.
"The oddest situation in England," he says, "was just before the outbreak of the war. We had then, not only an Ambassador's cloak in London covering Prince Lichnowsky, but a real Ambassador in Herr Kühlmann, Companion of the Victorian Order. [I wonder if he still wears the honourable insignia?] The Ambassador was an honest man, and believed that he had a free hand in trying to improve our relations with Germany. He was only here to give us 'taffy'—as the Yankees say. All his speeches at Oxford and at City banquets were sincere enough from his point of view, but he knew nothing of what was going on in the Chancelleries at Berlin, or downstairs in the Embassy residence at Carlton House Terrace.
"Those who descend the Duke of York's steps in Pall Mall, will see a common, unpretentious door on the right hand side, part of the way down. That was one of the entrances to the Embassy, and quite a different class of people used it from those gay folk who came boldly in motor-cars to the front door, which sported the decoration of the Imperial eagle. It was by the lower door there passed the principals in the espionage system, and it was in the lower rooms that Herr Kühlmann interviewed his 'friends.' He was a tall, good-looking man, with a specious suggestion of being straightforward and open dealing, but probably there never was so tortuous-minded a person at the Embassy. He was there for many years, and knew all who were worth knowing. He it was[Pg 62] who furnished the reports on which the Emperor and the Crown Prince acted.
"Prince Lichnowsky, for instance, foresaw that in the event of war, the unionists in Ulster would support the Government. Herr Kühlmann had sent over spies who masqueraded as journalists, and they came back from Belfast believing that civil war was inevitable. Herr Kühlmann accepted their view, and thus deceived the Kaiser and the German Chancellor. The same gentleman was much interested in the Indian movement, and I remember discussing with him the causes that led to the murder of a great Anglo-Indian official at the Imperial Institute. He was convinced that India was ripe for revolt. Again he deceived the Emperor on the subject. The German spy system was wide, and it was thorough, but its chief lacked imagination, and took niggling and petty views. In a word it is efficient in signalling, prying into arrangements, spreading false news, and securing minor successes, and that it can still do here, but had it realised how the whole world would be opposed to it, there would have been no war."
The gross licence extended to our alien enemies in peace-time has, surely, been little short of criminal. Fancy there having been a "German Officers' Club" in London, close to Piccadilly Circus! Could anyone imagine an "English Officers' Club" in Berlin—or in any other Continental capital, for the matter of that? In the first place, there would not have been a sufficient number of English officers to run a club, even if it had been allowed by the German authorities, which would have been most unlikely. But, on the other hand, there were enough German[Pg 63] officers in London, not only to support a club, but to give a large and expensive ball not very long ago at a well-known West End hotel!
Germany has a large army, and a considerable navy, but is leave lavished with such prodigality on her officers as to make it worth their while to have a special club of their own in the metropolis? One can hardly imagine this to be the case. Why, then, were there so many German officers in London? We may be sure that they were not here for the benefit of our country. The German Officers' Club was no secret society, and was, therefore, winked at by the sleepy British authorities. The War Office may have argued that it enabled them to keep an eye on them, and there may be something in that plea. But what possible justification could have been found for allowing a considerable number of German officers to assemble near Southborough—between Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells—not so very long ago, and to carry out what practically amounted to a "Staff Ride" in the "Garden of England" over a very important strategic position? Fancy such a piece of espionage being attempted in Germany! It is even known that the German Ambassador dined with the officers in question.
Had the German Officers' Club been under observation, could this have possibly been done without the cognisance of the authorities?[Pg 64] The authorities knew of all that was in progress, but calmly looked on, and, as usual, did nothing. The downfall of England was being plotted, but what did they care, so long as all went smoothly and they enjoyed their own social standing and their own emoluments.
There is an air of refreshing candour and simplicity in the official statement that no alien enemy is permitted to reside in a prohibited area without a special licence granted, after his case has been carefully examined, by the police.
Now, we know that proprietors and managers of hotels and licensed premises, as well as prominent residents, are usually on good terms with the police. It would surely be to their interest to cultivate good relations with them. And as the Lord Chancellor has assured us that the Germans are people of "greater astuteness," it is only reasonable to suppose they would be particularly careful to entrust their spying work in this country to only the smartest and most crafty emissaries.
One can imagine that a really clever German spy "bent on business" has had but very little difficulty in hoodwinking the honest man in blue, and obtaining from him the "permit" required for his signalling, or other work on the coast.
The experiences of the last four months at Liége, Antwerp, Mons, Rheims, Ypres, and[Pg 65] other places, has taught us that it is not always the alien who is the spy. In each of those towns men who had lived for years as highly respectable and law-abiding citizens, and whom everyone believed to be French or Belgian, suddenly revealed themselves as secret agents of the invaders, acting as their guides, and committing all sorts of outrages.
In our own country it is the same. There are to-day many who have lived among us for years, and are highly respected, only waiting for the signal to be given to commence their operations.
It is true that bombs from German air machines have been dropped on English ground—one fell in a garden at Dover and damaged a cabbage, or maybe two—also that Zeppelins flew over Norfolk and dropped bombs, but so far no air fleet from Germany has given the signal for German spies to start their arranged work of destruction in our midst, for the enemy has declared with its usual cynical frankness that their army of spies will only start their dastardly work when all is ready for the raid and the fleet of Zeppelins sail over London and give the signal.