We know, from official sources, that in spite of all the foolish self-congratulation of Mr. McKenna and his friends—who are "getting on" towards Birthday Honours,—and his attempt to gag the Globe, there are some 27,000 alien enemies still at large in Great Britain, and upon their activities on their country's behalf, until recently our only check was the shadowy form of "registration" that we have adopted. Even many of those interned are now being released upon bonds being given by responsible citizens. Unfortunately, anyone who ventures to suggest that these people—whose bonds may be signed by persons in German pay—may constitute a very serious danger, is at once branded, officially, as an alarmist, and accused of attempting to manufacture a "spy scare," whatever official optimists may mean by that term.
I am no alarmist, and the last thing I should wish to see in our country would be a scare of any description. But as I have, for so many years, made a special study of the spy question, as the evidence I was able to[Pg 172] lay before the Government caused the establishment of our anti-espionage precautions, I think, without undue egotism, I may claim to know something about the matter. I should have remained silent unless I had been absolutely convinced that there is still a very real and very grave peril of espionage owing to our supineness in this matter of aliens living here practically uncontrolled, and certainly owing to their great numbers not being under anything like effective supervision.
The popular idea of the spy still seems to be that he is, invariably, an individual sent specially from Germany to wander about this country picking up such scraps of information as he can. There could be no more dangerous delusion. The Germans are far too acute to trust to such methods; they know a great deal too much about the science of espionage to dream of thinking that foreigners sent hap-hazard into this country—obviously strangers and, therefore, most likely to invite attention—are likely to be able to carry out safely the difficult and dangerous work of espionage. Their secret agents are chosen, invariably, with the utmost care and method.
The "foreign" spy is not the worst peril; the real danger comes from those who, for years, have made their homes among us, who have married Englishwomen, and have become so familiar to their neighbours that they are in little or no danger of being under[Pg 173] the slightest suspicion. This has been proved over and over again, both here and in France, during the present war.
The case of the barber Ernst was a good instance. This man had carried on business at the same shop for sixteen years, and we can be quite sure that the last thing his neighbours thought of him was that he was a spy in German pay! No. He was a good Englishman like the rest of us. Yet, it was shown that he was a secret agent of the most dangerous character, and even worthy of a personal visit from the great and distinguished Steinhauer himself!
Now I hope that the many who have read my books over the last twenty years will at least believe that I am one of the last men to be suspected of any desire to belittle my own countrymen. I am simply an Englishman who has tried to interest them. To-day I point a peril to each and all of my million readers. But I wish to make it quite clear that nothing I say in this connection should be taken as reflecting on the work of our Confidential Department—a department which has done magnificently and which in every way I respect. They have matched brains against brains, and cunning against cunning, and the balance of the account is decidedly in their favour. They have, indeed, fooled Steinhauer's agents all through—examined their correspondence and their reports, tracked the agents down by the information thus gained, arrested a large[Pg 174] number of them, and to a very great extent smashed the organisation in its original form. So much I cheerfully admit, and congratulate them heartily upon their success. My point is that the work has not gone far enough, that what they have done has not been adequately supplemented, that much yet remains to be done before we can assume that a reasonable degree of security has been attained.
On October 8th last, a very important statement was issued by the Home Secretary, describing the steps that had been taken "to deal with the system of espionage on which Germany has placed so much reliance." I have shown elsewhere how the Confidential Department came into being, and how it was able to "discover the ramifications of the German Secret Service in England." In this statement Mr. McKenna says:—
The agents ... were watched and shadowed without in general taking any hostile action or allowing them to know that their movements were watched. When, however, any actual step was taken to convey documents or plans of importance from this country to Germany, the spy was arrested, and in such cases evidence sufficient to secure his conviction was usually found in his possession.
Proceedings under the Official Secrets Act were taken by the Director of Public Prosecutions, and in six cases sentences were passed varying from eighteen months to six years' penal servitude. At the same time steps were taken to mark down and keep under observation all the agents known to have been engaged in this traffic, so that when any necessity arose the police might lay hands[Pg 175] upon them at once; and accordingly on August 4th, before the declaration of war, instructions were given by the Home Secretary for the arrest of twenty known spies, and all were arrested.
This figure, it is added, does not cover over two hundred who were under suspicion or noted to be kept under special observation, the great majority of whom were interned at, or soon after, the declaration of war.
Now, although the spy organisation which had been established before the war may have been partially broken up, Mr. McKenna admits that "it is still necessary to take the most rigorous measures to prevent the establishment of any fresh organisation, and to deal with individual spies who might previously have been working in this country outside the organisation, or who might be sent here under the guise of neutrals after the declaration of war."
Here really we have the crux of the whole matter. It is easy enough to deal with the known spy; it is easy enough in time of war for the Post Office to watch very closely correspondence not only with Germany, but also with neutral countries, from which letters can so easily be sent into Germany—as I have sent them—and it is easy enough to censor cables. Mr. McKenna says:—
This censorship has been extremely effective in stopping secret communications by cable or letter with the enemy, but as its existence was necessarily known to them, it has not, except in a few instances, produced materials for the detection of espionage.
[Pg 176]
I should think not, indeed! Would any sane person suspect the German Secret Service of such imbecility as endeavouring to send important reports by post or cable from this country in time of war, except as a last desperate resort to deal with some unexpected situation in an apparently harmless message? It was this very thing that brought about the downfall of Lody, and the fact that he attempted to send a cable-message shows how urgent he thought it was that his message should reach its destination as soon as possible. He trusted to luck, but luck failed him. If I thought our Confidential Department regarded such a proceeding as normal, I should indeed be in despair.
Remember one highly important fact. It is perfectly easy to-day to travel from Holland or Denmark to Berlin, and there is no difficulty in anyone with a British or American passport travelling from this country to Holland. Some two hundred British and American passports have been "mislaid"—in plainer language, stolen—by the German authorities. Can we think for a moment that it would be impossible for the Germans to find agents quite willing to run, as commercial travellers or what not, the trivial risk of making the journey from England to Holland, where their information could be handed over for conveyance to Berlin?
Lody came to England as an American; I have no doubt he could have gone back to Berlin in the same guise if he had wanted to.[Pg 177] We know perfectly well that every scrap of official news published here finds its way to Berlin in a very short time—a distinguished British General a few days ago stated that the German commanders had copies of the London papers within a few hours of publication. Where, then, assuming a spy in England has secured some useful information, lies the difficulty of transmitting it to those who are ready and anxious to receive it?
Suspected passengers on the steamers, it may be said, can be searched, and letters found upon them examined. Is it to be imagined that a spy's reports would be written in copperplate on a large sheet of paper for all and sundry to read? Need they even be written at all?
Censorship on mails and on cables, and the close examination of cross-Channel passengers are excellent precautions, but, after all, we are only locking the door after the horse has been stolen. Admit that the spy is here, grant that he has got hold of a piece of important information, and I will wager that he finds means of transmitting it to his Government, if he possesses an ounce of sense.
The man Louis Trabbaut, sentenced at Marlborough Street, had passed through the German lines nine times between London and Brussels. More than this, it has been shown that the Kaiser, since the war began, has been using a courier to send letters to London! On October 8th, Mr. H.L. Reiach, editor of the Yachting Monthly, received a card from Vice-[Pg 178]Admiral K. von Eisendecher, who is attached to the Kaiser's suite, stating that he would no longer subscribe for that journal. There is no reason, as the Daily Mail pointed out, why this particular communication should not have been sent by open post in the ordinary way, but for some reason the Kaiser's Admiral preferred to use the secret courier service. The letter, written at Karlsruhe, was evidently brought over by a courier, stamped with an English penny stamp, and posted in the South-West district of London.
I wonder what else came over by that courier, and, still more, what went back!
"It is practically impossible," said a high police official discussing this incident, "to prevent this smuggling of letters." The only certain way to prevent it would be to detain and strip every passenger arriving at our South and East Coast ports, and minutely examine every article of their clothing. The authorities have power to detain and search any suspected person, but that is very different from searching every passenger—man, woman and child. The real remedy lies not in these palliatives; the disease is desperate enough to call for drastic remedies. We must stop so far as is humanly possible—and no one asks more—the collection of information here. And there is only one really effective way of doing this—intern or deport every individual of enemy birth, naturalised or not, until the end of the war.
[Pg 179]
Now I am not alone in holding this opinion; it has been expressed by our judges, and by much more exalted individuals than my humble self. So recently as October 27th, the Recorder of Pontefract said:—
All those who have not been naturalised at all should be deported until the end of the war. Those who had been naturalised during the past ten years, since when Germany has been competing navally with England, should be interned under supervision but allowed to conduct their business; men naturalised over ten years ago should be allowed to live on their own premises under substantial bond for their good behaviour under police supervision.
This is the opinion, not of a layman, but of a judge, speaking with all the authority and responsibility which must attach to his high office. Must we write him down as a spy-maniac or an alarmist?
Lord Leith of Fyvie is a nobleman who has been giving special attention to the spy-peril, more particularly along the East Coast. Here is his view, expressed at Torquay as recently as October 23rd:—
At last the chief spy has been removed from the neighbourhood of Rosyth (it was late enough, I might remark!), and the Government has recognised the necessity of making a wholesale sweep of aliens. There cannot be any distinction between classes. The only exception ought to be in favour of English women who have married aliens. All others ought to be transported to a neutral country; out of Great Britain they must go. Such a course would certainly be the most humane course that could be taken. Originally the East Coast was the most[Pg 180] dangerous zone, but in view of the desire of the "Head spy and devil Emperor William" to seize Calais, it was necessary to deal with the whole coast.
The Government recently decided to arrest all enemy aliens between the ages of 17 and 45. This, of course, meant that all men of military age were to be arrested, and it was a welcome step. No doubt this decision, which was announced on October 22nd, considerably reduced the danger of espionage arrangements that had previously been made, by removing many of the agents. But are we to assume that the Home Secretary considers that no German over 45 is capable of acting the part of a spy? Or is he under the impression that 45 is the utmost age attained by Germans in this country?
"After this war," said Mr. Justice Ridley at Worcester Assizes on October 22nd, "we must make an end of spies. The German nation appears to think that it can conquer Europe by a system of espionage. We will have no more of that." Most people will concur with the learned judge's view, but will regard it as rather belated to wait till "the end of the war" to make an end of the German espionage which is rampant now!
It is often represented by well-meaning people that it would be unjust, and not in accordance with British fair-play, to take steps against aliens who have become naturalised. We are told that these people have[Pg 181] been promised the full liberty accorded to British-born subjects, and that to treat them in a manner different from other Englishmen would be to go back upon our solemn undertaking.
I confess this argument leaves me unmoved. We have no use for the unpatriotic get-rich-at-the-expense-of-your-neighbour arguments. We are Britons, and Britons we will remain in spite of the puny leading articles in unimportant papers. Naturalisation, in the great majority of cases, means absolutely nothing; it is, indeed, usually adopted purely for business reasons. Seldom does a German become so imbued with profound veneration for our institutions and customs that nothing short of citizenship of our Empire will satisfy his sacred feelings of patriotism. Moreover, naturalisation is one of the spy's favourite devices, and surely one of his best methods of disarming any possible suspicion.
But these are not ordinary times, and the requirements of the situation as we see it cannot surely be met by ordinary methods. Nothing is more jealously guarded in this country than the right to be protected from arbitrary imprisonment. No one in England can be arrested and kept in custody for more than a few hours without being fully informed of the nature of the charge against him, and brought before a magistrate, whose duty it is to decide whether there is a prima facie case against him, upon which he should be sent for trial. That, in ordinary times, is[Pg 182] the British practice. Yet, only a few days before I write, the High Court refused an order, under the Habeas Corpus Act, that an Englishman, who had been imprisoned for over a week without any charge having been made against him, should be brought up for trial.
The case was a remarkable one. A collision had occurred between a submarine and a British steamer, and the captain of the steamer was arrested. No charge being preferred against him, application was made to the High Court. It was stated in Court that a charge might be made, but that it was against the interests of the nation that it should be stated. The application was therefore refused.
Looking at the absolute stringency of English law on this subject at ordinary times, that was a very remarkable decision, but I venture to think it was absolutely correct, since the interests of the State must at all times over-ride the rights of the individual. The question of the guilt or innocence of the captain, it should be remembered, was not before the Court, and was not even discussed.
The same rule, I contend, should be applied to the naturalised alien. It was Burke who said that it was not possible to frame an indictment against a nation, but we can say with tolerable certainty that no German loses his German sympathies simply because he takes out naturalisation papers at the British Home Office.
[Pg 183]
Undoubtedly, if it were determined to intern or deport all of alien birth, whether naturalised or not, there would be many cases of hardship, and many people who are good citizens and perfectly loyal to the country of their adoption would suffer. Many such are suffering to-day. I am not going to suggest for a moment that every one of the thousands of aliens we have interned in the concentration camps is dangerous, either as a spy or as a combatant. I do insist, however, that many of them are, and to catch all the guilty we must necessarily, though with regret, inflict hardship on some who are innocent. Exactly the same conditions apply to the naturalised alien; in many cases they apply with even greater force............