The steamer ran into port at Havnegade, which is the landing place for
the vessels crossing the Sound, and I made haste to Hotel Central, on
Raadhuspladsen. At this hotel and at general postal delivery I expected
mail from America and from secret agents I had met at New York and at
various places in Europe. The mailman was liberal and gave me many
letters and packages, small and large, which reminded me of an American
mail order house. Had I been in a country at war, where strangers were
carefully watched, I would have been under no mild suspicion.
The first evening, after a hasty meal, I made a trip to the leading
hotels, including the Bristol, the Cosmopolite, the Dagmar, the Palads,
the Monopol and the Grand Hotel National. By this initial but rapid
tour it was possible to locate the places where strangers gather and to
feel the pulse of commerce and public sentiment. My first impression
was right: "Copenhagen is at present the Babel of travel and the Mecca
of European secret service work."
When I was about to retire for the night, while on my way back to the
hotel, I met a man who wanted to sell me a lead pencil. I purchased,
but at the same time studied the expression of his face, which seemed
to tell a story of a different life than that of the street vendor. He
limped while stepping on his right foot and carried a rather elegant
looking cane.
On Raadhuspladsen I met several men who were taking pictures for
travelers. They were agreeable looking fellows and I engaged them to
take several views of me, including one of the monument known as _Death
and Sorrow_ which is a fine bronze piece near the Hellig Aand Church.
It was not long until I made the discovery that these men were spies.
Indeed, I found spies disguised as street vendors, newspaper sellers,
bootblacks, interpreters, guides and as workers in many other common
callings. At the Bristol Hotel I met several spies to whom Mr. Fenwick
had referred me while I was in New York. They gave spice to my leisure
moments and stimulated interest in the war.
After I had been in Copenhagen several days, late in the afternoon, I
decided to go to the docks and shipping yards to take observations of
the freight which was moving through the city. Here I discovered a man
making notations of cars which were either loading or unloading. These
cars were from the continent and were marked from different places,
such as Bromberg, Dresden, Munich, Bautzen and other cities of Germany.
Here was the clue that Denmark was trading extensively with the Central
Powers. This spy was listing the cars and steamships engaged in this
trade; he was taking the names of the ships and cars and making a
record of the commodities in which trading was done. After observing
his work for some time, I made my presence known and found him to be
the street vendor from whom I had purchased a lead pencil on my first
evening in the city, but he was now posing as a railroad official and
held his cane before him as he walked rapidly away.
It did not require much time for the street vendor, who pretended
to be lame as he leaned upon his cane, to dent the crown of his hat
and assume the more important attitude of a railway and steamboat
inspector. He may have deceived others a long time, but I was on his
trail and discovered his smart delusion much sooner than he expected.
Several times I invited a number of the spies that I met at the Bristol
Hotel to accompany me to entertainments, including a certain John
Denton, a friend of Mr. Fenwick, who went with me to the Scala Theater,
where a comic opera known as _Polsk Blod_ was presented. This gentleman
entertained much and came in contact with many prominent Danes.
I gave him the letter written by Mr. Fenwick at New York, but not
before I made a copy of it, thinking this precaution would serve my
purpose to an advantage elsewhere. Later, when I returned to New York,
I secured stationery and had duplicate copies written on letterheads of
Hotel Belmont.