This is the story of a French young woman who was executed by the
French military authorities in Bellegarde, the little Franco-Swiss
frontier village.... Women have figured prominently as spies in every
war. In this war their rôle has also been conspicuous. Some have
betrayed their country for money, others have betrayed it for the
love of adventure, and still others have betrayed it for the sake
of love--following blindly the men who lead them astray along the
fascinating and dangerous path of crime. This young woman was a victim
of love.
Not a word has been written about her death. Not a sigh, not a tear,
not a prayer from her friends and relatives. For they did not know what
had become of her. The French newspapers did not record the end of this
woman, who paid with her life for her daring, mad desire to help her
Austrian lover, who sought to secure French military secrets.
Her name was Susanna Raynal. She was the wife of Louis Raynal, a
lieutenant in the artillery of the French army. She was twenty-eight
years old when she was put to death. The husband, twelve years her
senior, was at the front when she was shot. Her lover was shot with
her. He broke down, quivering and crying hysterically while she kept
bracing him up, repeating: "Have no fear! Have no fear!"
She begged the officers to have them shot together, not separately.
She declined to be blindfolded, held her lover by the hand and kept
murmuring "Have no fear! Have no fear!"...
Several weeks ago I met in Paris a distinguished French diplomatist
with whom I discussed many incidents of the war. Our conversation
turned to the many varieties of spies and provocateurs and to the
motives that prompted them to betray their country.
Then he told me the story of this young woman who met her end so
bravely at the French-Swiss frontier. There were tears in his voice as
he related the details. For he knew the woman and he knew her husband.
"I was returning from London to Paris a few weeks ago," he said. "Just
as we were reaching Boulogne, on the boat crossing the Channel, while
I was in line in the dining room of the boat where the passports were
being examined by the military officers, I heard behind me a familiar
voice, whispering in German, 'Furchte doch nicht!' (Don't be afraid!)
"I turned and saw the wife of my friend, a French lieutenant who was
at the front. She felt somewhat embarrassed when she noticed me, but
immediately advanced toward me and introduced to me a tall young man of
rather anti-pathetic appearance.
"'This is my husband's friend,' she said to me. 'He was kind enough
to help me arrange my business affairs in London. Louis is at the
front....'
"Upon our arrival in Paris she asked me to visit her soon. She said
she wanted me to advise her in a certain important matter, that she
was alone now, that I could help her with letters of introduction,
for which she would be most grateful. She urged me to visit her the
following evening. I promised to call on her and bade her farewell.
"On the following evening, when I came to her house, her maid met me
at the door and said that madam was expecting me for dinner an hour
later. I asked her to tell Mme. Raynal that I had another engagement
for dinner.
"A few minutes later Mme. Raynal came out. As I mentioned before,
she was a beautiful young woman of about twenty-eight. She was most
charmingly dressed. She greeted me warmly and begged me to stay for
dinner. I told her I had another important engagement. She implored me
to stay. She said she was alone, and that she wished to talk with me
about a matter of great importance, in which she desired to enlist my
aid. I said that I would call on her some other evening.
"Then she told me that she wished to visit friends in Switzerland, that
she had some manuscripts of a literary character she wanted to take to
them, and that she wished me to give her letters of introduction to
several people, among them the Minister of War. I promised to call on
her the following evening.
"As I bade her good night, she kissed me and begged me to break my
other engagement and take dinner with her. I repeated that it was
impossible. Then I left her. As I walked down the stairs, I noticed the
tall young man I had met with her at Boulogne, going up in the elevator
to her apartment. That seemed more than strange to me.
"The next morning I chanced to be lunching in a café where I
occasionally met my friend, the head of the secret police department.
In the course of my conversation I told the peculiar story of the
woman and the young man, without mentioning her name. The police chief
listened intently and then said:
"'I think I know the woman. We are watching her. We are also watching
the man closely. He is an Austrian. They seem to be engaged in a
serious political conspiracy.'
"About two weeks later I met the head of the secret police department
in the same café. He said to me:
"'Do you know what has happened to that woman--Susanna Raynal?'
"'I haven't seen her since then,' I replied.
"'You will never see her again,' he said. 'She has been shot.'
"And then he told me how the police had shadowed her and her lover, how
some one who had made her acquaintance recently gave her a letter of
introduction to the Ministry of War. She wanted to help the Austrian
carry certain documents out of France and wished to get a special
letter from the Minister of War permitting her to take what she called
'manuscripts' to her friends in Switzerland.
"She came to the Ministry of War with her lover. They were taken to a
room, where they met an officer who told her that he would be glad to
arrange the matter for her. Then the police did what is usually done
in such cases. The officer walked out of the room for a short time,
leaving on the table near them a number of important-looking documents.
The man took some of these documents, and after the officer had
returned and had given them the letter they asked for they went away.
"On the following day they reached Bellegarde, the Franco-Swiss
frontier. They were searched, and the papers taken from the War
Department were found on the woman. Within one hour both were shot.
She met her death bravely. She held the man by the hand and tried to
brace him up. He was crying helplessly and hysterically....
"A few days ago I received information that Lieutenant Louis Raynal,
the husband of the woman who was executed in Bellegarde, fell on the
battlefield recently. He passed away without learning of the tragedy
that had befallen his home.
"He died in defense of his fatherland, which his wife, through her
blind love for a spy, had endeavored to betray. Perhaps as he was dying
of his wounds, his last thoughts and prayers were for his home and for
his wife." (Told by Herman Bernstein in the _New York American_.)