Social espionage is too well known the world over, to call for very

much attention. It is one big trade in information of one kind or

another, in return for which the giver expects to receive special

consideration, or achieve some end. The anonymous letter fiend who

transmits real or pretended information about another person to a

third party, the lady's maid who is in the service of other women

besides her mistress, the private secretary to a politician, or banker,

or commercial man, who accepts "presents" from his master's rival,

the tattling flunkey, the money-lender's tout, the race-course and

training-stable "lumberer," the copper's "nark," the parish gossip who

"tells things" to the Vicar, the little 'tweeny maid "wot's got eyes

in her 'ead" and all these—there is no nation on earth, nor any little

hamlet that does not know them, and it would be idle to speculate as

to whether they are less known in England or America than in any other

country. It is sufficient to know that they exist and that they carry

on a trade in special information either for money or its equivalent.

In Paris they are more numerous than in London, while in Berlin, at the

great houses in the official quarter, it is a certainty that nearly

all the men and women employees are paid to spy upon their employers

by outside influences of various kinds—official, military, social,

commercial and clerical, and when the people of Berlin are not spying

on those above or below their own classes, they fall back upon spying

among themselves, as a writer named von der Goltz remarked more than

fifty years ago.

The famous Tausch bureau of private espionage, of which we heard so

much during the Harden trial in 1907, and which was founded by Baron

Tausch for the purposes of spying, just as a private individual in

Britain, or America, or France, might found a news agency—this bureau

had its analogy once in London on a minor scale, and was conducted,

very privately to be sure, by a deceased peer bearing a title of

ancient degree which is now owned by a youth whose relationship to

"Old Inquisition" (as he was once called by a society paper) must

necessarily have been very remote. Nevertheless, and for fear of

hurting anyone's susceptibilities, we propose to speak of the defunct

noble as Lord Pinkerton. It was not necessary to be in Society to

recognise this peer whose business was as well known to London

residents as his face—aquiline as to the nose and eye, somewhat

furtive in his movements, generally silent, but always observant and

mysterious. He flourished in the late mid-Victorian days when nearly

every man and woman in important Society was able to show as many

quarterings of nobility as are required for membership among the

Knights of Malta, or as formerly were essential to every candidate for

inclusion in White's Club. Accordingly, he was an elderly man in the

eighties and early nineties when golden keys began to open the doors

of the most sacrosanct circles. One does not require to be very old to

remember the great social transition that took place between, say, 1887

and 1902, when the first-fruits of the Education Act of 1870, together

with the results of Colonial enterprise had combined to create a new

class of social climber, which altogether upset previously existing

conditions and, indeed, finally ended by flooding them out. In former

generations wealth had, of course, always found a way in; but it was

wealth with some added virtue and by no means that which expressed

itself in mere display and extravagance such as arrived in the

mid-eighties with adventurers of all types and kinds in the hunt for

social distinctions and honours. By the nature of things, the exclusive

peer found he was fighting elemental forces, and as a consequence he

was far from proving the regenerator of Society that he hoped to be.

It is certain, however, that his private correspondents kept him well

informed, for it was well known that by 1890 he had been successful

in hunting down many individuals, mostly foreigners, whose claim to

social recognition had not only not even the merit of being backed by

great wealth or good birth, but whose early careers had been stained by

crimes of the darkest kind and who had made their appearance in London

society under assumed titles and names which were either fictitious,

or to the ownership of which they had no claim whatever. Some of

these men had made their early debut by successful operations on that

dead-leveller the Turf, had been elected to fashionable racing-clubs

and had passed by an easy transition into important social cliques

which were patronised by the first leaders of English society. Nor was

there any doubt about it that the detective-peer had the courage of his

chosen mission, for once in possession of facts sufficient to provide

him with a sure case, it was his practice to call immediately upon the

social masquerader offering him the choice of either retiring from

Society quietly and unobtrusively, or else of running the gauntlet of a

campaign of ostracism which should effectually force his disappearance

both from the Turf and English Society. The victim invariably made a

brave show of indignation and outraged innocence, only, however, to

submit when unequivocal evidence of his past was presented to him in

full.

Pinkerton was instrumental in removing from both Turf and Society a

foreigner of Teutonic origin who was known in his meteoric career as

"the Prince." He had, it was found out after his demise, begun life

as a waiter in Vienna, and possessing a famous gift of tongues as

well as an unusual talent for self-education, passed successively to

Berlin, Paris and London; here as a private secretary he entered the

employment of a wealthy Englishman of profuse and eccentric habits.

It was related of our "Prince," as middle-aged racing-men can tell

to-day, that he obtained his first start in life by backing the Derby

winner Sainfoin in 1890. To effect this _coup_ he had extracted from

his employer's private desk eight bank-notes each of the value of

£1000. Arriving somewhat late at Epsom, he handed the whole amount over

to the bookmaker so well known in those days as "Chippie" Norton, who

laid the market odds—at least 5 to 1 against. Sainfoin won the race,

beating both Le Nord and Surefoot and "the Prince" requested Norton,

as a favour, to let him have his bank-notes back, the balance, some

£32,000, to be paid in the ordinary way. On the same evening the lucky

winner replaced the notes, and on the following Monday received his

bookmaker's cheque, told his employer the story of his good fortune,

receiving from his patron introductions which gave him at once a

social footing among racing men. The man's personality was admittedly

a fascinating one and he quickly made his way among some of the

best-known coteries in London. It may be remembered of him that, being

Austrian, not long from Vienna, he professed as an eye-witness to

have the true story of the tragedy of Meyerling which closed the lives

of the Archduke Rudolf and Marie Vetsera. In a day when all London

had the "correct version," with its attendant mysteries and political

intrigues, the story of our "Prince" differed from others by reason of

its simplicity. The Archduke (he used to tell), when deeply flown with

wine, insulted the Baroness in presence of other guests. The lady left

the room, returned with a revolver and shot her lover dead, turning the

weapon on herself in a frenzy of remorse.

The adventurer's season of prosperity was not long and by the end of

1890 he had lost the bigger portion of what the late Mr Dick Dunn used

to call his "Sanfoinery." He recovered, however, over the Lincoln

which was won by a horse called Lord George and also followed Colonel

North's famous luck with much advantage to himself. At the close of

1891 it was rumoured that "the Prince" was about to marry into a family

whose standing was high in Scotland. It was about this time, however,

that Pinkerton began to make inquiries and the result was in every

way detrimental to the "Prince's" plans for domestication. He was

soon on the run and in 1893 was found trying to beat the Pari Mutuel

at Longchamps, when the exclusion of bookmakers from the enclosures

put a term to his turf activities. This man was by no means the most

important of Lord Pinkerton's victims, for the vigilant peer's system

of espionage was influential enough to close the doors of society

to men whose wealth and influence in Africa was second only to that

of Rhodes himself, but who failed to come up to our peer's ideas of

what was morally fitting for the great London world of those days.

Pinkerton's self-appointed rôle was not looked upon at all times with

favour by the more liberal-minded members of what Thackeray calls the

Best English People and, indeed, when one considers the origin of some

of the so-called noble families of England, Ireland and Scotland,

we think the social purist carried his apostolate just a little too

far. Suicide was, in at least one case, the end of a victim whose

social ostracism Pinkerton had brought about, and when several of his

victims conspired to bring about a situation that publicly showed

up the noble regenerator in a character which was at the very least

embarrassing, and as a result of which much mud continued to adhere

after the disposal of the case in a magistrate's court, very few people

were found to sympathise with the only social spy whom our peerage has

probably ever produced.

We have elsewhere touched upon ecclesiastical espionage which, we may

presume, is not confined to any particular Church. Its operations in

certain bodies may be said from earliest times to have assumed the

importance of an institutional principle. In view of our expression

of opinion that espionage is a necessary condition of any essentially

autocratic polity, we are only consistent in supposing that any Church

which requires from its adherents a total submission of the Will to

its arbitrary authority can only maintain its semblance of doctrinal

and disciplinary freedom by the most guileful arts and methods; and

it is not necessary to enunciate the doctrine of Private Judgment to

show that intellectual or political liberty can flourish only where its

principles fully prevail. It is easy, but altogether supererogatory,

for the once great religious congregations to disclaim—now that they

are shorn of the secular and political influence which was undoubtedly

theirs in the darker ages—all possession of secret systems by which

they once so effectively kept men's minds under their sway. It is only

necessary to read the story of the Inquisition in Venice, in Spain,

in Portugal, to learn how these Church-ruled communities fared under

the iron tutelage of their congregational overlords. There is to be

found, indeed, a strong analogy between the demoralised soul of modern

spy-ridden Prussia and that of Spain in the days of the Inquisition,

when, under the pretence of winning men to salvation, crimes were

committed in the name of the Cross beside which the short but horrific

annals of modern Hunnism stand spectral and anæmic in their comparative

bloodlessness. Napoleon was, as usual, correct in his view that men who

sought the refuge of the cloister were of a kind who neither wanted the

world, nor were wanted by the world; it was unfortunate, however, that

the wish and will to segregate oneself from secular activities, far

from killing those characteristics of intrigue which we associate with

the business of worldly life, had the effect merely of emphasising them

in the chosen narrower sphere and, by a natural reaction, of turning

their currents to baser uses and abuses than would have been possible

in the larger freedom of the world. We speak, of course, of the Dark

Ages.

It is not our intention to go into the question of ecclesiastical

espionage; but inasmuch as the Inquisition's operations in Europe were

based mainly, in respect of its bloody triumphs, on the work of a vast

network of espionage which assured to the Inquisitors their periodical

supply of victims it is only fair, without taking sides, that the story

should be told. Our authority for the following account of espionage

as it was used by the Inquisition—the name itself suggests its spying

character—is Joseph Lavallée, a French Catholic, who has dealt

authoritatively with the whole subject of the Inquisition. Lavallée

writes in effect:

The Inquisition was at Rome known as the Holy Office, all the members

of which were nominated by the Pope. They were bound to do his bidding

without question; they were removable at his pleasure and he could

recall them without any formality, or even without letting them know

the cause of their disgrace. We need no longer wonder, therefore, at

the intrigues and crimes to which these men had recourse in order

to preserve their places. The business of the Roman Inquisition

was to examine the books, the opinions, the doctrines, the public

and private conduct of those who were brought before its tribunals;

in virtue of their office they were bound to make a report of all

their proceedings, and it was almost always upon their statements

that the cardinals formed their judgments and decrees. The number of

subordinate officers was immense and these mainly constituted the

_corps d'espionnage_ proper, forming the _Hermandad_, or Brotherhood,

and the _Cruciata_, or Crusade. When any particular crime was

necessary in order to "establish" a case, no matter how revolting or

iniquitous or sacrilegious, the Office could always find among its

spies men and women both competent and willing to execute its orders.

Whatever crime they might commit, the secular power had no authority

over them; they were amenable only to the Inquisition, and it is not

to be wondered at if the very dross and scum of human kind eagerly

sought out the work of espionage as being most congenial. In Spain

and Portugal, the Holy Office was known as the Inquisition. Its bands

of informers were mostly drawn from the most unmanageable pupils of

the schools; they were sent into the world at maturity, ostensibly to

earn a living, but in reality to carry out the work of the Inquisition

in the capacity of spies, as the historian Infessura tells us.

The supreme council of the Inquisition was composed of the Grand

Inquisitor and five members, one of them a Dominican necessarily.

The number of "familiars," or spies, surpasses belief and was in the

proportion of one to every family in Madrid and Valladolid of that

period. As in Italy, they were placed above the ordinary civil courts

and were amenable only to the Inquisition.

In order to qualify as an Inquisitor, or to hold any office in the

Inquisition, it was necessary for the candidate to be descended, and

to be able to prove his descent, from a line of "perfect Christians."

Having given this proof, he was obliged to take an oath of secrecy and

fidelity to the Inquisition, the violation of which was punishable

with death. The body of informers were bound by the same oaths, and if

it was necessary to procure the "removal" of any person or persons,

these men were employed as _agents provocateurs_, death being the

alternative if ever they disclosed the methods of their Christlike

patrons and employers. As we have seen, both the _Hermandad_ and the

_Cruciata_ were the Inquisition's agents throughout the Peninsula,

and were employed mostly for the purposes of watching and seizing

victims. The smallest hamlets swarmed with these vermin and they

were mainly drawn by the Inquisitors from the worst characters in

the country. They themselves were often victims of the Inquisition,

whose influence had destroyed all kinds of secular industry in order

that the Church should profit by it, and members of both brotherhoods

served for the lowest wage the system which had robbed them of all

chance of procuring an honourable livelihood. In order to possess the

better claim upon their patrons, they had devoted all the faculties of

mind and heart to perfecting the arts of espionage, and no system has

ever produced more crafty, more ruthless, more persevering servants.

When once their attention was fixed upon a victim, it was but of

small importance that he was innocent, for his doom was settled from

that moment. If his reputation, his rank, his riches did not allow

of his immediate seizure, then recourse was had to stratagem. All

means, however vile or base, were allowed; they employed all arts,

they assumed all characters, they made use of every dress, they

adopted every possible method of circumventing and capturing their

prey. Caresses, flattery, entertainments, gold, were all employed

in forwarding their designs; months and years often passed before a

victim was entrapped, but the _Hermandad_ never lost a victim once it

had fixed its eyes upon his belongings. The _Cruciata_ was formed with

the object of watching over members of the Catholic body and seeing

that its members performed their religious duties. It is not difficult

to conceive to what a degree of hypocrisy such an establishment must

have brought a nation, and if "most Catholic Spain" were Catholic at

all in those days, it was rather from fear of the _Cruciata_ than

from love of God. So then the Inquisition had two first-class _corps

d'espionnage_ which formed two active armies, always on the alert and

always moving among the masses, through which both their political

and their spiritual ascendancy remained assured.

That few could escape the attentions of these spies must be evident

when we consider that the Inquisition characterised as Heretics

all who taught, wrote, or spoke against the Church, its teachings,

its hierarchy and priesthood, or even those who wrote in favour of

methods or teachings belonging to non-Catholic bodies, or who simply

criticised the Church. To be a suspect was practically to be a man

who was already dead. To have spoken irreverently of holy things,

or to have failed to inform of those who had so spoken, to have

read forbidden books, or to have lodged or entertained an heretical

friend—these were sufficient to condemn a man, and according to the

principles of the Inquisition, a man was obliged to inform against his

father, his brother, his wife, his children, under pain of himself

being brought within the notice of the Inquisitors. As it happened,

the larger percentage of men and women who became its victims were

such as possessed large means which the ecclesiastical powers desired

to possess. Jews, Moslems, non-Catholics of all sorts were, equally

with Catholics, amenable to the Inquisition for specified "crimes,"

all of which were punishable by death if the accused were unable to

justify themselves. Public report, secret information, discovery by

means of spies and voluntary accusation were the four ways employed

by the Inquisition, in order to bring matters under its jurisdiction.

Flight was impossible in view of the ubiquitous _Hermandad_, and the

summary seizure of an accused person and his immediate incarceration

constituted the usual procedure, once the spies had reported to

headquarters. These spies, or "familiars," as they were called,

were invariably supported by the Inquisitors, even if evidence had

to be fabricated in order to make up a plausible case. What was the

quality of the Justice dispensed may be gathered from the following

facts: first, the names of witnesses deposing against the accused

were never given to these last; secondly, witnesses were not obliged

to prove their depositions; thirdly, all and sundry who cared to

volunteer testimony were accepted, so that men who were notorious for

infamy, for perjury and for the most scandalous vices were welcomed

to bear witness to the "truth"; fourthly, two hearsay witnesses

were equivalent to one ear-witness; fifthly, the spies were always

accounted the most reliable witnesses, notwithstanding that they

were in the pay of the Inquisition. Finally, a son might be witness

against his father, a father against his son, a wife against her

husband, a husband against his wife, a domestic against his master,

or a master against his servant—an inexhaustible source of treachery,

revenge and the worst qualities of the human heart. The tortures to

which the accused were subjected in order to make them confess to

the commission of crimes of which they were guiltless were of three

kinds. In the first place the victim was taken to a vault which

lay sometimes as many as one hundred feet below the surface of the

highway. According to the nature of the charge, he was put through the

torture of dislocation by being fastened as to his extremities, with

cords, then raised by means of a pulley, kept some time in suspension

and suddenly let fall to within a foot of the ground. If on repetition

this means was found insufficient to make the "subject" confess, his

Christian tormentors resorted to the water-trough, laying him on his

back, binding him as to the legs, and having stopped his nostrils,

poured water from a considerable height in such a way that its weight

fell upon the throat. Occasionally the master of ceremonies turned off

the flow, not, however, to give the victim relief, but to prevent his

death by suffocation. Perhaps, even then, he refused to surrender, and

in order to cure his obstinacy a couple of religious smeared his feet

with lard or oil, stretched him on the ground with the soles exposed

to a terrific fire, and after half-an-hour's subjection to this ordeal

invited him to speak. If he refused, he was put through the torture

once more and then removed to a dungeon where he invariably found

some others in apparently as bad a plight as his own, who, as soon as

he was brought in, began to curse the Inquisition and all connected

with it. These were nearly always spies whose evidence constituted

subsequently that on which the unfortunate man was eventually

condemned to death. The executioners of the torture-room were as a

rule monks clothed in cassocks of black buckram, with the head and

face concealed under a cowl of the same colour, with holes for the

eyes, nose and mouth. A Prior was accustomed to supervise the torture,

assisted by a clerk who referred to his spy agents as occasion

required, or summoned them from an adjoining hall, where most of them

wiled the time away at dice, in order to fortify all accusations

against the victim. Sometimes an innocent man, in the vain hope of

saving his life, confessed his guilt. He was then accounted a happy

repentant and, by a special favour, was permitted to be strangled

before being cast into the flames. Those who persisted in their

obstinacy were summarily burned to death.

In modern foreign congregational colleges the divisions of the

school take the form of junior boys, middle grade and seniors, and

as communication of the youths of one grade with those of any other

grade are most strictly forbidden, mainly on the ground of morality,

a considerable system of espionage is from the outset part of the

institution's plans. In foreign schools the spies of any particular

grade are officially known by the other boys, just as monitors are

known in ordinary schools. The functions of the foreign school-spy go,

however, very much farther than those of the monitor, and so busy is he

in the performance of his duties, that espionage enters into the minds

and habits of foreign youths from their earliest years. When the late

Cardinal Vaughan—a typical Englishman if membership of a territorial

family of half-a-score of generations counts for anything—was laying

plans for the founding of a Catholic school in England, he visited many

of the principal colleges in France with the object of obtaining ideas

for his proposed foundation. Everywhere he was depressed at the absence

of individual liberty and the ever-present prevalence of espionage.

Nor was he consoled very much, on once asking the distinguished head

of such an establishment what provision was made for training youths

in the proper use of individual freedom, to hear that the school

authorities saw to it that no freedom whatever was allowed except under

the eyes of the official supervisors. Neither does the system fail

in its application among the members of any governing confraternity

itself in which the lay-brothers are spied upon by the functionaries

in minor orders, and these in their turn by clerics in higher orders,

the superior exercising espionage upon the entire community while the

sport begins again in inverse order, and the chief finds out that

his reports dealing with the subordinate end of the line are fully

supplemented by spies who report with equal completeness on his own end

of the game. Contemplative Orders, as they are called, are not, it may

be said, confined to the Roman Catholic Church, and we presume monastic

espionage is as prevalent among the non-Catholic monks as among the

Catholic.

XVII

AMERICAN SECRET SERVICE

It is customary for Americans to declare that they possess no system

of espionage in their country, and as a rule this is true of American

life under normal conditions. Putting aside the questions of purely

detective work and criminal investigation, and in these spheres of

police activity America is probably served as well as any other country

in the world, we may safely say that there is too much individual or

social freedom in the United States to warrant the permanent existence

of anything like organised espionage. Nevertheless, politics plays a

rôle in every state of the Union, the complexity and strenuousness of

which are not known in any other country in the world, and wherever the

political game is pursued with resoluteness and vigour, we may depend

upon it that all factions possess what Americans themselves very aptly

describe as "inside information" regarding what is taking place in

other opposing camps; all the more so, indeed, as success in political

campaigns in America means possession and employment of a kind of

patronage which is invariably expressed in terms of dollars and cents.

Such information can only come by way of emissaries planted in the

midst of political enemies, and there is attached to every political

organisation a selected body of men who make it their business, for

due consideration, to work in other camps on behalf of particular

factions. This kind of political espionage is, it may be said, quite as

common in England, or Canada, or Australia, or France, or Germany as

in the United States, for as it has been said: "So long as there are

governments so long will there be political spies, and so long as there

are attempts being made to overturn governments by force, so long will

political espionage remain a necessity." As in England, or Scotland

and Ireland, so in America there is little in the way of systematised

espionage, even among the vast community of German-Americans who might

be supposed to revert to type, as the Darwinians put it. Over there,

as in these Islands, espionage is only organised for expediency's sake

and according to the exigencies of any particular scandal, social or

commercial, which may require the intervention of the agent of stealth

and observation.

Yet, how many Americans are themselves aware that Charles the First

sent his agent Randolph to America in order to report on the condition

of the Colonies which were even then discussing the question of

severing themselves from the British bond? Louis the Sixteenth also

sent Baron de Kalb to inquire into the revolutionary spirit which,

as a result of the importation of French encyclopædism, preceded the

Declaration of Independence, and upon the Baron's favourable report,

gave the Revolutionaries that aid which led in the end to their

triumph. Of Hale we have spoken at fuller length, but have yet to tell

how General Washington had his own secret agents within the British

lines, from whom he received constant intelligence as to what was

taking place in Howe's and Clinton's camp. Major Tallmadge, whom we

have mentioned in the story of André, was the agent through whom the

information was transmitted. At first it was written in sympathetic

ink, then a new invention and imported by General Lafayette, which only

disclosed its message when the paper on which it was written had been

dipped in another fluid. Once the invisible ink was made visible by the

application of the chemical reagent which developed it, the manuscript

appeared as if it had been written in the ordinary way. Washington was,

however, a particularly cautious man. He suspected that the British

might very well possess this same sympathetic ink, and conveyed a

message to Tallmadge that the latter's spy "should avoid making use

of the stain (ink) upon a blank sheet of paper which is the usual way

of its coming to me. This circumstance alone is sufficient to excite

suspicion. A much better way is to write a letter in the Tory-style

with some mixture of family matters, and between the lines in the

remaining part of the sheet communicate with the stain the intended

intelligence. Such a letter would pass through the hands of the enemy

unsuspected, and even if the agents should be unfaithful or negligent,

no discovery would be made to his prejudice, as these people are not to

know what is concealed writing in the letter and the intelligent part

of it would be an evidence in his favour."

James Rivington, editor and printer of _The New York Gazette_, was

another agent in the secret service of Washington. By 1781 this man,

realising that the British were unlikely to succeed in quelling

the rebellion, undertook, in the interests of his own person and

property—for earlier he had sided with the British—to furnish the

American commander-in-chief with important information. This he

conveyed to the general, written on tissue-paper and bound in the cover

of school books. Although Rivington was thus aiding the revolutionary

Whigs, he kept up his daily abuse of them in his newspaper, retaining

the confidence and good will of the Tory leaders and residents. When

in the autumn of 1783, the British evacuated New York, Rivington was,

of course, suffered to remain, while other Tories were driven away

and their estates confiscated. Major Tallmadge mentions Rivington as

"a gentleman of business, of education and of honour," a somewhat

stilted way of describing the journalist who, owing to his position,

was able to mix with the loyalist families on a friendly and familiar

footing, the revolutionary authorities paying him at the rate of £100

a month for services rendered. Soon after the Declaration of the War

of Independence the new government of the United States made the then

considerable appropriation of £6000 annually for the purposes of secret

service. This money continues to this day to be appropriated. It is

drawn by the direction of the President in such sums as he may require

for specific services, without any voucher being given beyond the

certificate of the Secretary of the Treasury registering the fact.

In 1812, it is recorded, President Madison communicated to Congress

the commission and correspondence of John Henry, a British agent,

proving that while the two countries were still at peace "a secret

agent of the British Government was being employed in certain States in

fomenting disaffection to the constituted authorities of the nation,

and in intrigues with the disaffected for the purpose of bringing about

resistance to the laws, and eventually, in concert with a British

force, of destroying the Union and forming the eastern part thereof

into a political connexion with Great Britain." This work of an _agent

provocateur_ naturally aroused great excitement throughout the whole of

American Society. No one had really believed that there were persons in

New England capable of any idea of secession, although British gold, it

was well known, had been heavily subsidising the eastern Press in order

to rouse up civil discord. To no avail, however; Henry passed, and the

disquiet of the period gave way to a long period of rest and prosperity.

In the Mexican War large sums of money were spent on secret service,

and in 1849 Congress made an appropriation of £10,000 for the purposes

of enabling a body of spies to be formed who were under the personal

direction of the President. After this war the "hire of interpreters,

spies and guides for the army" was included among the incidental

expenses of the Quartermaster's department, for which an appropriation

has since annually been made by Congress. When the war for the

suppression of the Southern Rebellion broke out in 1861, large sums

were necessarily expended by the officers of the regular army and of

the volunteers, on account of secret service. We note one account sent

in by General Butler for the payment of fifty dollars for a hand-organ

and a monkey. This item was disallowed by the Treasury officers,

until it was explained that both organ and monkey had been bought at

Annapolis to enable a young officer familiar with Italian to go through

the enemy's country to Washington, disguised as an organ-grinder and

notify the President of the great Northern uprising as well as of the

approach of the Union troops for the rescue of the capital. There

was undoubtedly a large number of what Frederick of Prussia termed

"double-spies" in the Civil War, and many secret-service men who

carried intelligence to Washington also carried Union information back

to Richmond.

At this momentous period many of those in the secret service were

convicts who had broken out of jail, and neither side derived much

benefit from their employment. Blackmail, false charges and forgery

were used by them solely with the purpose of obtaining money from their

victims. Prominent merchants in New York and Boston were accused on

false documentary evidence of defrauding their country. Their books

and papers were accordingly seized and their owners paid exorbitant

sums in order to avoid arbitrary arrest and imprisonment. One victim

remonstrated with the President in the following words:—"It is hard

that citizens enjoying a good name who had the misfortune to come into

business relations with the Government, should be exposed to such a

spirit [espionage]; that they should be dragged from their homes and

hurried to a military prison; that they should be obliged to undergo a

protracted trial by court-martial, damaging their good name, destroying

their peace, breaking up their business and subjecting them to untold

expense, when at the slightest touch, the whole case vanishes into thin

air, leaving behind nothing but the incomprehensible spirit in which it

had its origin." The informers continued, despite all remonstrance, to

enrich themselves at the expense of wealthy business men in the North,

and many spies then laid the foundations of fortunes which to-day may

be counted in the tens of millions. The military spies were doing good

work, at the same time, in the South, though it was afterwards admitted

that the secret service of the Confederates was far more efficient than

that of the Union, the reason being, it was said, that in the service

of the South were scores of intelligent women of position who were

successful in obtaining at Washington, New York and elsewhere in the

North, correct information of the plans and intentions of the Union

generals. This was the case in regard to the battle of Bull Run, when

a Mrs Greenhow obtained from a Northern politician information as to

the advance of the Federal troops. Indeed, the operations of wealthy

women-spies in the secret service of the South, during the Civil War,

is one of the most curious features of that event. Nor were they all

Southern women; many of them were Northerners, and at all events

every one of them owed her fortune and position to the principles for

which the Union stood. These women watched and waited at official

doors until chance or the unguardedness of an employee allowed them

to learn the particular secret intelligence they were looking for;

they stole maps and plans and most of them had taken lodgings close by

the War Office, to which they were wont to invite young departmental

secretaries to whom they offered the pleasures of the tea-table and an

enlightened discussion of Federal iniquities. Mr Perley Poore, writing

in the well-known magazine, _The Chautauquan_, in January 1887, says:

"They smuggled the information which they obtained, in the linings

of honest-looking coats and hid the army secrets in the mysteries of

innocent-looking bustles; they burned signal lights from garret-windows

and crossed the Potomac below Alexandria at dead of night and with

muffled oars. At one time the Government had caught and hived over a

dozen of these busy Confederate bees in a house at Washington where,

in a few days, they beguiled the young officers charged with guarding

them and carried on their vocations as before." One of the best known

of these creatures was Belle Boyd, the daughter of a Federal official;

according to report she was sharp-featured, black-eyed, quick-tongued,

of wonderful energy and spirits, twenty-five and—very free. She wore a

revolver in her belt, rode a mettlesome horse and easily attracted the

attentions and interest of the younger officers from whom she extracted

valuable information, though what the officers extracted in return, we

are not told. Boyd organised her own corps of women spies who were very

much of the same type and character, and if not worse than herself,

were apparently no better than they ought to have been.

Many stories are told of the ease with which Confederate secret-service

men obtained first-class information from the departments. A young

Englishman, member of a Washington firm of stationers who executed

contract work for the Government, was once inveigled into giving

away an important piece of military intelligence to a secret-service

sleuth who had shadowed him from the capital to New York. Both took up

lodgings at the Brevoort House, became acquainted and spent several

evenings together. The Englishman casually allowed it to be known that

he was on terms of particular intimacy with departmental officials and

his friend suggested on leaving New York that they should correspond.

A few weeks later, the Briton received a letter, addressed to him at

Washington, asking if it were true that the blockaded port of Galveston

was to be opened—could he find out the facts for a certainty from

his official friends. Suspecting nothing, the stationer inquired at

Washington and was duly informed as to governmental intentions by a

secretary who really knew. He conveyed the news to his friend and was

only reminded of the occurrence a few days afterwards when he was

arrested and sent under guard to New York. Here he found that a noted

blockade-runner had been arrested with the Washington letter in his

pocket. The prisoner proved to be his friend of the Brevoort House

who eventually received a long sentence, the Englishman escaping only

through the intervention of the British Consul. The stationer received,

however, no more favours from his official friends and lost a certain

fortune through his lack of caution.

At the close of the war many spies who had worked for both the North

and the South made their appearance at Washington, where most of

them were taken into the services of the war department, at that

time under the direction of Lafayette Baker in respect of its _corps

d'espionnage_. When, in the course of time, President Johnson was

impeached by the Republican party, Baker, a man of great cunning

and resource, set about impressing the public with the value of his

services to the country. He sought to prove that a Mrs Cobb had given

bribes to members of the Cabinet in order to procure the pardon of

ex-Confederates. The funds employed in the impeachment of Johnson

were contributed by the distillers, and the secret service of the

Treasury Department conceived and organised the "whisky ring," formed

of Government officials and distillery magnates. The whisky taxes

were divided and about one-half was paid into the Treasury, while the

"ring" divided what remained. When the distillers slackened in their

production the officials urged them to greater activity, the result

being that although the ring included almost every revenue official

in the West, many politicians of note and well-known personages in

Washington, the fraudulent gains amounted to millions of dollars and

for years even minor participants in the combine were pocketing some

$500 (£100) a week as their share in the transaction. General Babcock,

one of General Grant's personal staff, who was considered to be a

member of the ring, was subsequently tried at St Louis, but acquitted,

although public opinion always regarded him as guilty and made no

concealment of its view that it was only Grant's influence which had

procured him his acquittal. During the presidency of the victorious

Federal commander, the Secret Service flourished at Washington and was

mainly connected with the wire-pulling activities of politicians who

saw large profits in contracts for municipal improvements, a form of

"political" enterprise which has also become common in Europe since

Baron Haussmann, of Paris, showed how much money there is be made in

the exploitation of "civic patriotism," as it is called. Mr Perley

Poore must be quoted in full in order to demonstrate the method of the

Washington ring and its agents. He writes:

"Among its other operations was the execution of a plot concocted

by General Babcock and District-Attorney Harrington to blacken the

reputation of Mr Columbus Alexander who had made himself obnoxious

to the ring. A certain detective one day informed Mr Alexander that

he could obtain and deliver to him the private account-book of a

contractor which would show the entire rascality going on. These

books had already been delivered by the contractor to District

Attorney Harrington who locked them up in his safe. The next night two

professional burglars were hired to enter the office, blow open the

safe and carry the books to Mr Alexander's house. That day Harrington

had informed the police that he feared a burglary was about to be

attempted and the superintendent, with the whole detective force,

was on hand at the appointed hour. When the burglars had performed

their work, they walked boldly out at the front door of the District

Attorney's office, where they were kindly received by Harrington and

his friend A. B. Williams. The principal burglar, having pocketed his

fee, bade his confederates good-night and walked home. His assistant,

in pursuance of the agreement, started for Mr Alexander's house,

followed by the detectives and representatives of the ring. He lost

his way unfortunately and Williams was obliged to direct him. He rang

the bell for fifteen or twenty minutes, but failed to arouse anybody.

He was then arrested by the detectives and locked up. Subsequently he

signed an affidavit, at the instigation of Harrington, setting forth

that he had been hired by Mr Alexander to blow open the safe in the

District Attorney's office and bring the contractor's books to his

house.

"The affair was immediately investigated. Harrington and the

secret-service officials involved themselves in an inextricable mass

of perjury, and then the detective first employed by Harrington

came forward and revealed the whole conspiracy. The feeling against

the scoundrels who had thus plotted to ruin the character of an

upright and honourable man was very bitter. The masks were torn

from their faces and they stood revealed in their true colours.

The few honest men who had been deceived by their pretences into

defending their acts repudiated them utterly. This exposure of the

wrong-doings of the Secret Service led to the refusal of Congress to

make any appropriations for its pay, with the exception of a small

force attached to the Treasury Department. The old Capitol prison

was converted into dwelling-houses and nearly all the agents were

scattered over the country, many of them becoming connected with

private secret-service organisations. As a general rule, these

fellows are inferior in intellect and ability, if not in honesty, to

the professional rascals whom they occasionally arrest. They often

lay traps for weak men in crimes designed for them, and find vulgar

employment by those seeking divorce from matrimonial bonds. Secret

Service is certainly not a necessity in a Republic in times of peace,

and when their virtues and their weaknesses during the War for the

suppression of the Rebellion are impartially summed up, it will be

difficult to decide whether those who professedly served the Union

were a blessing or a curse to it."

The Customs House of the great City by the Hudson has its own _corps

d'espionnage_, the object of which is to defeat the large number

of tourists returning from summer trips to Europe, who attempt the

next-to-impossible feat of "beating the Customs" by smuggling heavily

excisable goods. Under the Roosevelt and McKinley regimes, when high

tariffs were the ruling order, even rich men and women resorted to all

manner of expedients in order to defeat the excisemen in West Street

landing-stages. In the year 1905 matters had come to such a pass that

a definitely organised system of espionage was adopted with a view to

curtailing the operations of wealthy smugglers who could well have

afforded to pay the heavy duties involved. The services of stewards

and stewardesses on board the liners were not only requisitioned, both

men and women being given pass-keys for the purpose of privately

inspecting the luggage of suspected passengers, but women, apparently

of wealth and standing, were also commissioned to travel to and fro

between European and American ports and use all the means at their

disposal to induce sister American tourists to give up, confidentially

of course, a correct estimate of their purchases in Paris and London,

the same information being duly transmitted to the New York Customs

as soon as vessels berthed, or touched at Sandy Hook. Not only were

the maids and valets of suspected smugglers suborned, but even, in

London and Paris, the counter salesmen connected with fashionable

outfitters and jewellers, as well as invoice clerks, were paid a fixed

rate of reward for all information given to American Consular agents

in Europe which might help the transatlantic port authorities to

discover the delinquents and their private contraband on arrival at

New York. Then there was the trick of the weighing-machine, guaranteed

to take avoirdupois to the smallest fractions—plausible women spies

and officious stewards and stewardesses making it their pleasure to

have each saloon passenger "scaled" in order to show how beneficially

sea-travel affected the health. At the Customs offices at New York

these machines stood ready, in duplicate, to weigh any fair suspect

who might possibly have swathed her form in contraband silks or other

prohibited commodities, and a comparison with weight-lists previously

supplied by obliging stewardesses was sure to decide the question

as to whether or not she was to be made the object of a personal

visitation by the official female searchers of the Port. In the case of

one lady who was weighed off Queenstown, the indicator then recording

10 stone 6 lb., or 146 lb., duly registered by a stewardess, it was

found that the duplicate machine at New York made her turn the scale at

168 lb., the result being that she was found to be carrying dutiable

goods concealed on her person worth many hundreds of dollars excise tax

to the authorities.

Much is told of the alleged system of newspaper spies employed by

English and American "yellow" papers, which are said by the uninitiated

to employ their corps of spy detectives in the same way as an

established secret service employs its special agents. In America it is

quite certain that since the so-called "yellows" depend to the larger

extent on the providing of purely "police" news to their clients, a

certain amount of espionage becomes part of the work of the daily

reporter. During the course of the notorious Thaw trial, in the last

decade, witnesses of all sorts—including the young wife of Thaw—were

subjected to the attentions of reporters who, by following their social

movements, were able to add suggestive tit-bits to the "stories"

appearing daily and nightly in the papers, and much to the surprise and

annoyance of their victims. As far as we know, however, nothing of the

kind has yet entered into the processes of British journalism.

XVIII

NAPOLEON, HIS MISTRESS AND—A SPY

The authorities for the following story are these:—_Correspondence of

Napoleon_, vol. v.; _Memoirs of Bourrienne_, vol. ii.; _Memoirs of

Prince Eugene_, vol. i.; _Memoirs of the Duchesse d'Abrantés_, vol.

iii. Except to very minute students of the Napoleonic legend, it is

not very well known, nor could the episode be said to rise very much

above the commonplace, were it not for the extraordinary personality of

the central figure around whom the incidents play. It is simply with a

view to showing the operations of what has been called "the long arm

of British diplomacy" that we tell the tale of an attempt to put a

term to Bonaparte's ambitions as early as 1798, when the Corsican had

only reached his thirtieth year. It is customary to say that historic

figures, no matter how great or spectacular their enterprises, are

never—or rarely ever—so magnificent, in the classical sense, to the

eyes of their contemporaries as they prove afterwards to succeeding

generations. It took the battle of Austerlitz, for example, to force

Benjamin Constant and Madame de Staël, to say nothing of the Bourbon

Princes, as well as a host of public men of note, into a full and final

realisation that in the person of Napoleon an elemental force had

appeared in Europe whose activities in the world were not to stop till,

to use the great soldier's own memorable phrase, Nature had ceased to

require him as an instrument of its designs. And we all know the story

of how the younger Pitt received the intelligence of that conflict of

a December midday: "Roll up the map of Europe," he is alleged to have

said, "it will not be required these ten years"—which was prophecy

with almost mathematical accuracy, if we may use such a term. The

truth is, however, that seven years previously, British diplomacy had

already gauged the significance of the new world-portent, and by 1800

plans were already laid to fight the coming menace to the principle

of the balance of power. The fact itself holds a lesson for all who

fatuously imagine that the history of the world is enacted in a series

of accidents and that the business of diplomatic agents consists in

meeting and dealing with these accidents as they automatically appear.

The work of all great foreign ministers whom the world has known has,

on the contrary, consisted in providing for contingencies long foreseen

and patiently awaited. What Prussia's unique foreign expert worthy of

that name in the story of its whole diplomacy—Bismarck—achieved in this

way as preparatory to the campaigns of 1864, 1866 and 1870, British

Diplomacy is always and eternally achieving. To the process of its

perennial vigils and deliberate acts we may apply the famous remark:

"There it is, the great engine, it never sleeps," and as the custodian

of the set principle that no single Power shall overrule the rights of

other nations, men are beginning at last to realise what in reality

it represents, and that not only is Great Britain now and for ages

invincible and indestructible, but that in her self-charged world-rôle

of defending the Right there is that which, if need were, shows the

mind of watchful Providence itself.

When, in 1798, Bonaparte set out for his Egyptian campaign, there

were already in active existence two redoubtable forces with which

his ambition was destined to become fatefully engaged—namely, Nelson

and British diplomatic vigilance. Long before his début on the Nile,

British Secret Service had put all its forces in motion in order to

upset his designs against England's Eastern dominions, and not one

of these designs was unknown to Downing Street. Egypt then, as now,

was in respect of its commercial activities almost wholly under the

domination of English political and monetary influences, the result

being that from the moment of his arrival at Cairo, an extraordinary

web of espionage had already been woven round the Corsican. It is

suggestive enough that the means which the secret agents of London

proposed to employ for the undoing of the young conqueror of Italy

were based mainly on the idea that Napoleon was easily susceptible

to feminine influences. His quasi-public heart-affairs with Madame

Colombier, Caroline Bressieux, Madame Saint-Huberti, Desirée Clary

and the woman Turreau, in Paris, had misled the British Cabinet,

strangely enough, with the notion that he could be destroyed through

the agency of ministering angels of the venal variety. At all events,

the system of espionage was conceived upon Bonaparte's supposed foible

and its direction was undertaken by Sir Sidney Smith—whose interminable

after-dinner tales of his exploit at St Jean d'Acre were afterwards

to win him the title of "Long Acre"—assisted by John H. Barnett, a

secret-service agent in British employ.

Bonaparte, it is known, had allowed but very few women to follow

his army to Egypt, among these few being the wives of some of his

principal generals. One of his inferior officers, a certain Fourès,

just lately married, had, however, transgressed the orders of the

Commander-in-Chief, to the extent of taking his bride-wife with him

to Egypt dressed as a man-servant. In this disguise Madame Fourès was

successful in reaching the Nile, where she assumed her regular woman's

attire, took lodgings in Cairo and proceeded to lead an ordinarily

domesticated life with her husband. It was not long, however, before

the story of the lady's deceit came to the ears of Bonaparte through

Junot, a connoisseur in feminine attractions, and the youthful

General was moved by curiosity to see the rare bird that had eluded

his vigilance and transgressed his rigorous orders—all the more so,

perhaps, as Junot declared that this one was a veritable bird of

paradise in respect of her personal charms and other _allèchements_.

Accordingly, he so arranged matters that in the course of a review of

his army all the French ladies in Cairo should be present to witness

the manœuvres of the troops. Among them came the youthful Madame

Fourès, whom Junot pointed out discreetly to his General. Evidently

the latter was satisfied with his cursory inspection, for he turned

to his famous lieutenant, instructing him to issue invitations to

a dinner on the subsequent day to which certain ladies were to be

invited, including Madame Fourès, whose husband was, however, not

among the invited guests. Naturally, the Captain felt slighted. He was

well known to be a man of fire-eating disposition—as John Barnett, who

knew him personally, could fully testify—and his first inclination

was to issue a direct challenge to his superior officer, Junot, whose

propensities, where pretty women loomed large, were known throughout

the army to be what the late Mr Labouchere used to term patriarchal.

Then, on second reflection, he urged his wife to refuse the invitation.

Now Madame Fourès was just in the newly wedded stage of her personal

emotions, and every man of experience is aware that a bride in that

stage is more susceptible to the external symptoms of the love-passion

than at any other time. Indeed, the lady had already divined from

Bonaparte's ardent glance the state of his feelings towards her. And

although she practically, to use an Americanism, already "saw her

finish," the truth would seem that she did not much care where she was

to end. At all events, she declined to obey the Captain, twitting him

with jealousy, and accepted the invitation for herself alone. It had

been prearranged that Bonaparte was not to be of the invited party,

but was to make his appearance during the course of the dinner, which

arrangement was duly carried out, Bonaparte being presented to all the

guests on his arrival.

Was it not Wellington who declared that "Bonaparte was no gentleman"?

In any case, after presentation to Madame Fourès, the young General

took a seat opposite to hers and began to stare the lady out of

countenance, exceedingly to her embarrassment. Then quickly finishing

a cup of coffee and with a curt word of adieu he passed from the room.

Some moments after, Junot, whose place was beside that of Madame

Fourès, in turning his chair, upset the lady's coffee into her lap.

Apologising profusely for his awkwardness, the soldier, assisted by

General Dupuy, sought to remedy the disaster with the aid of sponges

and serviettes, only to find that the stain began to travel all over

the skirt and was, for that day at least, irremovable. General Dupuy

affected to be on the verge of tears. "Junot," said he, "perhaps it

would be better to allow Madame Fourès to arrange her dress in some

adjoining room." And Junot led the Captain's wife to an adjoining room,

in which was—Bonaparte.

At this juncture our mind travels back, anachronistically enough,

perhaps, to the late Artemus Ward, his "morril bares and wax figgers,"

and we feel inclined to ask the honourable printer to "put sum stars

here." We prefer, however, to fall back on the profound observation of

a French historian who deals with this episode. He says: "Madame Fourès

entered that adjoining room with a blot upon her dress which was bad

enough. It was nothing, however, to the blot upon her character when

she came out." The lady was, it appears, wholly complacent, and as

the presence of her husband was now a matter of embarrassment both to

herself and Bonaparte, the latter took immediate steps to assure the

return of Captain Fourès to France—ostensibly as the bearer of sealed

orders to the Directory.

"My dear Fourès," said Berthier to him in accordance with this

decision, "you are luckier than the rest of us, for you are going to

see France once more. The Commander-in-Chief has decided to entrust

you with a mission of the highest importance, knowing as he does your

ability and reliability. Your future lies in your own keeping. The

orders are that you shall leave at once with dispatches."

Fourès saw his chance at once and took it. When, however, he declared

it his intention to take his wife, too, Berthier objected. It would be

impossible, urged the famous Chief of the Staff, to allow Madame Fourès

to run the risk of capture by English naval officers who—Berthier

emphasised the point—were notorious for their taste in Frenchwomen.

Besides, there was the discomfort of confinement on board a battleship,

which would give the British officers every excuse for treating the

lady as quite other than a prisoner of war, whatever they might do

with himself. _Et puis, ce cochon de Sir Seedny Smeet—ah, Fourès, mon

ami, voyons donc!_ And so poor Captain Fourès left Egypt on board the

_Chasseur_, commanded by Captain Laurens, while Bonaparte installed

Madame Fourès near the palace of Elfi Bey, where he himself resided,

and thereafter lived with her as openly as he had lived with the

actress Grassini in Milan.

As mischance would have it, the _Chasseur_ was captured by the British

man-o'-war _Lion_, commanded by Sir Sidney Smith, under whose orders

John H. Barnett was then serving as secret agent. On their meeting for

the second time, the Englishman said to Fourès:

"Well, Captain, you must now be edified at the moral character of the

scoundrel whom the Directory has given you for Commander-in-Chief in

Egypt."

"What do you mean, sir?" asked the Frenchman, with some colour.

"Don't be angry, Captain," replied Barnett. "I understand your heat and

will try to cool it. Listen: as we consider you to be the victim of a

disgraceful intrigue on the part of Bonaparte, we propose to land you

on the Egyptian coast. Once arrived there, you will rejoin your corps

and regain possession of Madame Fourès, your former wife."

"Sir," exclaimed the now indignant Frenchman, "will you be pleased to

explain?"

"That," replied Barnett, "is exactly what I am endeavouring to do, and

if you will have the patience to listen, you may understand."

Thereupon the secret-service man drew from his pocket several newspaper

cuttings which gave full details of the scandal in which the names

of Madame Fourès and Bonaparte were associated. The story showed,

furthermore, the arrangement by which Fourès had been induced to carry

dispatches to the Directory, Bonaparte being well aware at the time he

entrusted the Captain with his mission that only a miracle could enable

him to elude the vigilance of the British cruisers and pass over to

France. Once he became a prisoner of war, Bonaparte would be assured of

the possession and enjoyment of his new mistress.

The Captain's emotion on hearing of his commander's treachery and his

wife's connivance in the trick was painful to witness, and the poor

fellow broke down under the ordeal. His papers, it was proved to him,

were of no importance whatever, and Barnett showed him duplicates which

had been taken of them before the Captain had even left Cairo.

"When you arrive at headquarters," the relentless Barnett proceeded,

"one of our agents will conduct you to the palace of Elfi Bey, where

Madame Fourès has lived with Bonaparte since December 18, the date of

your departure with the dispatches. As for your fellow-officers, they

all know of the affair and you have become the object of the army's

ridicule throughout Egypt. As a man of honour you will doubtless know

how to avenge yourself on both culprits. Life is cheap in Egypt in

these days, Captain."

In due course Captain Fourès reached Cairo and soon realised that

Barnett had told him nothing more than the truth. His wife remained a

willing prisoner with Bonaparte. Accordingly he prepared for action,

meaning to kill his two betrayers. It was pointed out to him that

in view of the existence of martial law and his failure to carry

the dispatches entrusted to him, the Commander-in-Chief would be

justified in having him shot; while his friends urged, knowing the

man's character, that, after all, to risk his career for a worthless

woman, in a quarrel with a man like Bonaparte, was worse than madness.

The Captain determined, however, to see his wife and obtain an avowal

from her own lips as to the facts of the whole intrigue. According to

the records, Fourès found her, still unrisen, at the mansion of Elfi

Bey, learned from her own admission that she was satisfied with her

present lot and, without further parley, flogged the strumpet till she

writhed in agonies on her bedroom floor. Fatality of fatalities, who

should enter and find her in this condition, but Bonaparte himself. He

gazed for one dramatic moment at the shrieking woman and turned with a

raucous laugh on his heel. Fourès, in due course, procured his divorce

and made, as he himself declared, "a sacrifice of his resentment

against Napoleon to France and the Army." As it happened, the luck

was, on this occasion, against the British Secret Service agents. Had

Bonaparte fallen a victim to the jealous rage of Fourès, should we

have had a Trafalgar, an Austerlitz, a Jena, a Waterloo? There are not

wanting those who maintain that all these historic events were in the

inevitable logic of the French Revolution and that with a Bonaparte, or

without him, they must in their due turn have come to pass—a question

which is far too large for present discussion. In any case, it is

certain that Bonaparte's removal in 1799 would have relieved many

European cabinets of much anxiety.

XIX

CONCLUSION—BIBLIOGRAPHY

The bibliography connected with the business of espionage is not,

as may be supposed, a very extensive one. Great spies have all

written their memoirs, but in no case can these works be regarded as

trustworthy records of the actual parts played by their writers in

important historic events or episodes, and it is always necessary to go

to independent chroniclers in order to arrive at the truth. As regards

themselves, they are peculiarly fortunate in that highly placed patrons

and collaborators have rarely, if ever, condescended to criticise or

question their claims or statements, the result being that their most

preposterous pretensions find acceptance at face value. It is well,

too, that not one of them, as far as the writer has discovered, evinces

anything like literary tact in his attempts to conceal the essentially

underhand nature of his professional art. Your Schulmeisters and

Stiebers, on the bare evidence of their own life stories, disclose

their real motives and characters so clearly and intimately as to leave

us with the impression that it is only very poor judges of human nature

who can fail to categorise them accurately.

Our own study of the master spy has left us unimpressed regarding

the qualities of either head or heart which are called for in the

business of espionage, and whatever courage may appear to attach to

the characters of men like Schulmeister, Stieber and even André, we

remain convinced that there was in none of them anything like nobility

of purpose and that a very cheap material ambition underlay all their

respective rôles, dramatic though those rôles may have been. The

characters of the two spies of the War of Independence seem to us to

have been lamentably lacking in that fine spirituality which one looks

for in men who are willing to die for any strong faith that is in them;

the American appears to have been an idealist of a type which is not

easily differentiable from the oriental fanatic who is said to possess

no very settled convictions about his cause; while the Englishman's

motives were based purely upon rapid self-advancement. As to Le Caron,

we admit having approached his case with every predisposition to admire

him, only to find our earlier illusions entirely shattered after a

careful study of his reminiscences; and the printed word must be

allowed to go a long way towards self-revelation. As for Schulmeister,

he threw his lot in with the side which paid him the highest price, and

patriotism or nobility of sentiment in no way coloured his otherwise

important abilities and services, while Stieber—the odious Stieber

was at once a cringing self-seeker, a bragging bully and, shorn of

his protections, an obvious and elemental coward. MacParlan was a

detective pure and simple, and to him there attaches no stigma of

having taken an oath to serve a cause which secretly he meant to

betray. Of all the rôles enacted by the various exponents of espionage

with whom we have dealt, MacParlan's appears to us to have been far and

away the most heroic and, in view of the dread organisation which he

was fighting single-handed, also the most patriotic and utilitarian.

In regard to the sources which we have drawn upon, those which deal

with Schulmeister call for some comment. Napoleon's agent is mentioned

by many of the high functionaries of the Empire who published memoirs

dealing with its glittering legend. Savary, Fouché, Rapp and Marbot

all give him a word, while Thiers, much later, mentions him as

having contributed a share to the glories of the Corsican. With the

exception of the short Life by Diffenbach, and his own very unreliable

_Fragments_, we are aware of no exhaustive biography of the spy,

while magazine and newspaper articles, such as those published in the

_Allgemeine Zeitung_, the _Courrier du Bas-Rhin_ and other periodicals,

differ altogether as to details and chronology in descriptions of him.

The author remembers to have read, when a student in Germany, many

years back, an account of Schulmeister obviously written by an Alsatian

and signed with the name, F. Ott, which gave particulars as to the

spy's first meeting with Napoleon, as well as the story of his social

career in Vienna before joining the army of Mack. These particulars are

not mentioned by any other writers except Savary and a scribe in _The

Royal United Service Magazine_ of December 1897. In view of so many

conflicting accounts, however, we have thought it fair to draw upon

this recollection in our own story of the Alsatian, although at present

we cannot recall the exact source.

Le Caron has, of course, been his own biographer and the popular Press

of the time of the Parnell Commission teems with accounts, correct

or imaginary, of the Anglo-American major. Sir Robert Anderson, in

his reminiscences, speaks of his agent in terms of consideration and

respect. In a letter which Sir Robert was so good as to write to the

author, in this connection, appear the following remarks:—

"My best agents, when I had charge of secret-service work, were

as much entitled to respect as were my officers in the Criminal

Investigation Department when I had charge of that branch of

Police work, or as our military who 'spy' the German trenches from

aeroplanes. Others again take up that sort of work for 'filthy lucre

sake,' and yet others from all sorts of motives, some praiseworthy and

some contemptible. Spies differ as much as parsons or doctors, and

no general rule can be applied to them. Le Caron was in every way a

worthier and more respectable man than were some of the M.P.'s who

abused him in Parliament. Some of my other agents were much in the

same category. Others, again, who gave me information of great value,

were creatures whom it was an ordeal to have to deal with."

MacParlan's career was well known to many of the old stagers of the

New York and Philadelphia newspapers, and from one who knew him, the

writer has taken the version he gives of the admirable detective's

final disappearance from the coal regions of Pennsylvania, according it

preference over the somewhat prosaic departure as told by MacParlan's

excellent biographer, Mr Dewees. While volumes have been written to

the glorification of Major André, it is unfortunate that very little

is known regarding Nathan Hale, and it is certain that no portrait

remains extant of that youthful hero. The Duchess of Portsmouth has

been fully dealt with by many writers; the Chevalier d'Eon has had the

advantage of being portrayed by the late Mr Andrew Lang, while Pingaud

has treated the Count d'Antraigues. The French Divisional Police Chief

Saint-Just has given to the world an account of the French Internal

Spy System as it exists in our own day, and Doctor Fitzpatrick is the

chief among many who have written of the British Secret Service, to

the chapter concerning which we append a Home Office paper, issued in

September 1914, which clearly shows that the British authorities were

by no means uninformed or unmindful of the contemplated operations of

the swarms of German spies who filled London hotels and lodging-houses

at the opening of the War. Official alertness, it may also be said, was

shown during the course of the campaign, as (to cite but one instance)

when the Special Police Constables were mobilised on the night of the

air raid on Sandringham and therearound, a fact which spoke eloquently

for our system of counter-espionage.

With regard to the German System of Espionage, it must be said that

while we do not accept everything that the arrogant Stieber claims for

his organisation and himself, we are inclined to look upon Lanoir as

being too much a hater of all things Prussian either to do justice to

himself or to be fair to Stieber. In any case, we have supplemented the

French writer's views by others emanating from Klembowsky, A. Froment,

Tissot and various publicists well known in France. The work of Mr

Graves we have read, and while admitting that he wins our sympathy

as regards his perennial good humour and cleverness, we confess our

total inability to "negotiate" (as he himself would probably say) his

version of the instructions to the _Panther_ at Agadir, the same having

really been conveyed by the very ordinary process of telegraphing from

Berlin to the gunboat's commander by code to the _Fabra_ news agency

at Madrid, whence the message travelled to Tangier and Agadir. In the

pages of _The New York American_ Mr Graves's diplomatic work would

certainly prove to be "just the goods," if we may judge by the printed

European dispatches of that paper's ineffable correspondents. All his

English countesses and peers have respectively the airs and manners of

Chicago "store-ladies" and Buffalo drummers—exactly as the American

yellow-paper requires them for home consumption.

Following is a short list of the principal publications to which the

writer referred in the course of his work:—

_Allgemeine Zeitung_, old cuttings, dated 1818-1822.

Collier, Price, _Germany and the Germans_. 1913.

_Courrier du Bas Rhin._ 1853.

Crawford, Marion, _Venetian Gleanings_. 1905.

Dewees, F. P., _The Molly Maguires_. 1877.

Diffenbach, L., _Schulmeister_. 1879.

Fitzpatrick, Dr, _Secret Service under Pitt_. 1892.

_Fortnightly Review._ 1898, 1903, 1905.

Fouché, _Memoirs_. 1892.

Froment, A., _L'Espionnage Militaire_. 1897.

_Journal of the Roy. United Ser. Inst._, Dec. 1897.

Klembowsky, M., _L'Espionnage_. 1896.

Lanfrey, _Histoire de Napoleon_. 1826.

Lanoir, Paul, _The German Spy System_. 1910.

Lavallée, I., _Inquisitions_. 1810.

Le Caron, _Twenty-five Years in the Secret Service_. 1892.

Muller, Paul, _L'Espionnage sous Napoleon_. 1909.

Pingaud, _Un Agent Secret_. 1894.

_Quarterly Review._ 1898.

Rapp, General, _Memoirs_. 1825.

Rovigo (Savary), _Memoirs_. 1830.

Schulmeister, _Bruchstuecke_. 1816.

Stieber, _Memoirs_. 1877.

_The Chautauquan Magazine._ January 1887.

Thiers, _Histoire du Consulat_. 1868.

Tissot, V., _La Police Secrète_. 1884.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Frederick was childless.

[2] It has even been stated that the funds which enabled the so-called

Suffragettes to carry on their recent militant propaganda were, for the

greater part, supplied by Berlin, through private persons acting on

behalf of its secret service. The identity of the real donors of very

large sums given for the furtherance of the movement was said not to

have been known even to the Suffragette leaders.

INDEX

A

Absalom, 29

Alexander the Great, 32

Alexander II. of Russia, 181

Alfred the Great, 123

Allen, Lieutenant, 118

Althorp Park, 132

American Civil War, 42, 287

American Secret Service, 283 _et seq._

Anarchist societies, 153

Anderson, Sir Robert, 312

André, Major John, 104 _et seq._

Andrieux, Prefect of Police, 153

Anglo-Russian War, 53

Antraigues, Comte d', 260, 261, 262

Aristagoras, 32

Arnold, Benedict, 100 _et seq._

Arthur, John, 42

Aubigny, Duchesse d', 128

Austerlitz, campaign of, 65, 71

B

Babcock, General, 293

Baden, duchy of, 61

Baker, Lafayette, 291

Balance of Power, 128

Barnett, John, 305

Belfort, town of, 62

Bernhardi, 161

Berthier, Marshal, 226, 304

Bertillon, Professor, 155

Biggar, Jos., 40

Bismarck, von, 175 _et seq._

Black Cardinals, 76

Black Hand Society, 96

Black Country, Westphalia, 134

Black Cabinet, 154

Bluntschli, 19

Boisdeffre, General de, 235

Boulanger, General, 152, 158, 159

Boyd, Belle, 290

Brandon, Captain, 134

Brevoort House, 290

Britain, cost of espionage, 136

British Museum Catalogue, 162

Burleigh, Lord, 126

C

Cæsar, 34

Campeggio, Cardinal, 124

Canning, Foreign Minister, 131

Caro, Elme, 230

Carrier-pigeons, 33, 144

Charles II., 128

Christ and the spies, 29

Churchill, John, 108

Clan-na-gael, 51, 53

Clapton, 105

Clinton, Sir H., 112

Clive, Robert, 59

Collier, Price, 167, 168, 203

Comédie Française, 221

Continental schools, 36, 208

_Courrier du Bas Rhin_, 68

Cromwell, Oliver, 128

_Cruciata_, 274

Customs, New York, 295

D

Darius, 32

Davitt, Mr, 54

Decker, von, 35

Delbena, 126

Delcassé, M., 149

De Piple, 72

Deville, 35

Diderot, 71

_Dossier_, 150, 151

Dreyfus case, 149

Dublin Castle, 133

Dunn, Mr Dick, 270

E

Education of German spy, 238, 244, 245, 246, 247

Egan, Mr Patrick, 52

Emperor Francis, 70

Empress Elizabeth, 257

Empson and Dudley, 123

Enghien, Duc d', 61, 62, 63

England's spies in Germany, 135

Eon, Chevalier d', 255 _et seq._

Erfurt, Congress of, 73, 74

Ernst, spy, 233

Esterhazy, Major, 154

Ettenheim, town of, 62

Ex-priests, German, 225

F

Fanaticism of spy, 25

Fenianism, 43, 44, 45, 48, 49

First Consul, 62

Fitzpatrick, Dr, 133

Ford, Mr A. Brendan, 53

Ford, Mr Patrick, 52

Forth Bridge, 238, 239

Fouché, 58, 59, 73, 124, 150

Fourès, Captain, 301

Fox, Charles James, 131

France, cost of espionage, 136

Franklin, Benjamin, 111

Frederick the Great, 37, 161 _et seq._

French Secret Service, the, 147, _et seq._

Frederick William, King, 171

Frontinus, 30

Fusiliers, Royal, 106

G

Gallifet, General de, 183

Gassicourt, M. de, 67

German Secret Service, 161 _et seq._

Geneva, university of, 105

"Germanising influences," 222

Germany, cost of espionage, 136

Gifford, spy, 127

Goethe, 23, 74

"Good old days," 127

Goven, Franklin, 94

Grant, General, 292

Grant, Mrs Colquhoun, 129

Graves, Mr, 229, 232, 239, 240

_Great Eastern_, 42

Grey, General, 109

H

Habsburgs, 37

Hale, Nathan, 79 _et seq._

_Halifax_, guard-ship, 88

Halifax, town, 83

Hannibal, 33, 34

Harden, Max, 265, 266

Hausmann, Baron, 293

Heath, General, 84

_Heimath_, 221

Helvetius, 71

Henry, Colonel, 149

Henry, John, 286

Herbesthal, 167

_Hermandad_, 274

Hibernians, A.O., of, 95

Hirtius, 33

Histiæus, 33

Holbach, 71

Home Office, 137, 138 _et seq._

Horace, Satires of, 125

Howe, General, 88, 109

Hundred Days, 77

Huntington Bay, 86

I

_Index_, 72

Infessura, 274

Inquisition, Spanish, 272

Intelligencer, the, 125

Invalides, les, 221

Ionia, 33

Ireland and Greece, 91, 92

_Irish World_, 53

J

Jameson, Colonel, 118

"J.B.," 126

Johnson, President, 291

Joseph, 29

Joshua, 29

Junot, General, 301

Justus Lipsius, 33

K

"King's Secret, The," 256

Kluck's cow, 220

Knowlton, Colonel, 84

L

Lachesnaie, 35

Lang, Andrew, 258

Lanoir, Paul, 189, 190, 215

Lassalle, General, 74

Launay, Comte d'Antraigues, 132

Lavallee, Jos., 273

Le Caron, 39 _et seq._, 133

Legion of Honour, 75

Le Meinau, 72

Lever, Charles, 130

Leveson-Gower, Lord G. L., 132

Lichfield, 106

Lockport (Illinois), 45

Long Island, 83

Lorrach, 63

Louis XIV., 38

Louis XV., 256

Louis XVIII., 260

Louise of Prussia, 74

Louise of Saxony, 265

M

Mæcenas, 125

Mack, Field-Marshal, 66

Mackenzie, Colin, 132

MacParlan, J., 90 _et seq._

Madison, President, 286

Manhattan, 83

Maria Edgeworth, 106

Marie Louise, 76

Mary Stuart, 126, 127

_Matinées du Roi de Prusse_, 161

Mazarin, Cardinal, 128

Megalomania of spy, 23

Meinau, M. de, 60

Meline, Monsieur, 149

Mexican War, 287

Meyn, painter, 37

_Mischianza_, 111

Mithridates, 30

"Molly Maguires," 90, 93

Moltke, von, 177

Mommsen, Professor, 193

Montesquieu, 71

Morin, 19

Murat, 75, 124

N

Napoleon, 23, 28, 37, 38, 64, 147, 148, 166, 193, 221, 226, 228, 298

_et seq._

Napoleon III., 77, 152

National Homing Union, 145

"Necklace" manœuvre, 70

Neu-Freistett, 60

New journalists, 57

New Haven (Connecticut), 82

New York, 84

_New York Times_, 250 _et seq._

_New York Gazette_, 285

Nietszche, 161

Norwalk, 86

"Number Seventy, Berlin," 235

O

O'Donovan Rossa, 52

O'Neill, General, 45 _et seq._

Ottawa, 51

P

Parnell Commission, 56

Paulding, Farmer, 117

Pennsylvania coal zones, 90

Peter the Great, will of, 162

_Petit Parisien_, 230

Philadelphia, 48, 108, 109, 110, 111

Phillips, spy, 127

Piggott, Richard, 39

Pingaud, biographer, 260

Pinkerton Agency, 95

Pitt, William, 130

Pius VII., 76

Polyænus, 29

Polybius, 33

Poore, Perley, 289

Portsmouth, Duchess of, 128

"Posen" case, the, 264

Poulet, 127

Pragmatism, 17

Prince of Wales, the, 54

Q

Quakers of Philadelphia, 112

Quebec, 108, 109

Queen Victoria, 54

R

Radet, General, 76

Rapp, General, 75

Red Man's Signals, 227

Reichstag appropriations, 174, 179, 186, 194, 249

"Reptile Press," 186

Rhodes Scholarships, 224

Rivington, James, 285

Robespierre, 130

Roman spies, 18

Roon, von, 184

Rulski, 69

Russia, cost of espionage, 136

Russia, system of espionage, 173

Russo-Irish Alliance, 53

S

Sainfoin, Derby winner, 269

Saint-Just, revolutionary, 130

Saint-Just, police chief, 148

Salaries of German agents, 240

Salic Law, 23

Savary, General, 60

Schulmeister, 58 _et seq._

Scipio Africanus, 18

_Scutula_, 32

_Secrets of German War Office_, 239

Sergeant, W., 110

Sertorius, 31

Seward, Anna, 106

Shenandoah station, 100

_Skutate_, 32

Smith, Sir Sidney, 301

Sneyd, Honoria, 106

Social transitions, 267

"Speak-easies," 96

Spencer, Lady Sarah, 132

Steinhauer, Dr, 229 _et seq._

Stendhal, 17

Stieber, 37, 161 _et seq._

Sudermann, H., 221

T

Tallmadge, Major, 120

Tausch Bureau, 266

_The Chautauquan_, 289

"The Prince," 269, 270

The Trebia, battle of, 33

Tilsit, Treaty of (1807), 131

_Times, The_, 39

Tissot, Victor, 189

Trench, Captain, 134

Turr, H., 238 _et seq._

U

Ulm, 70

V

Vattel, 79

Vaughan, Cardinal, 280

Voice, Napoleon's, 64

Voltaire, 71

W

Washington, General, 83

Wend, spy, 69

West Point, 114

Whigs, American, 113

"White Blouses," 152

William II., 161, 221, 265

William of Prussia, 177

Windell, spy, 232

Wireless Telegraph Act, 142

Wolfe, General, 107

Z

Zeppelin, secret visits, 231

* * * * *

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_