him two lieutenants, Zernicki and Kalten. Their work lay in the
military line. They visited fortifications in all parts of France; they
carried cameras with them, and in spite of the regulations forbidding
such things, they made photographs of the defenses and even of the
cannon in the forts. Disguised as peddlers they made their way into
the various garrisons and studied the methods of the drill, discovered
the number of men attached to each of the regiments, and altogether
obtained a mass of information that could not possibly have been
gleaned from blue books or official publications.
In the same manner men were sent to the different navy yards. They
explored the warships and cruisers and obtained data which was promptly
forwarded to the Foreign Office in Berlin. Napoleon III reigned over
France at this time, and while he must have known the danger that
threatened his country by reason of German aggression, he apparently
made no effort to avert it. Spies ran about almost under his nose and
he could not see them. Some years before this, when it was reported
that the people of Paris were discontented, he said:
“Well, gild the dome of Les Invalides—that will give them something to
look at.”
And, indeed, he gave the people a great deal to distract them from the
fear of both poverty and war. He was largely responsible for making
Paris the most beautiful city in the world. He laid out the magnificent
boulevards, built the great sewers and in other ways made the city the
joy and pride of the inhabitants.
There had long been ill feeling smoldering between France and Germany
and the two countries were on the verge of war in 1866. But this
significant fact was lost on Napoleon III, and the German spies, when
they came into France, found a fertile soil to cultivate.
Steiber did not stop at learning the secrets of the army and navy.
His spies even went to Versailles and were to be found in public and
semi-public institutions everywhere. They consisted of both men and
women. If one went into a restaurant the waiter who attended to his
wants was likely to be a German spy. If a Frenchwoman—possibly the wife
of an army or naval officer—went to her dressmaker’s she was fitted
by a female who probably was on the payroll of Doctor Steiber. At one
time, it is hinted, there were five thousand Prussian spies working on
French territory. Never was a country so overrun by the secret agents
of a foreign power.
Finally, in the latter part of 1869, Steiber completed his work and
started back to Berlin. And all this time the complacent French Emperor
and the credulous French people, were in ignorance of how they had
been betrayed by the thousands of foreign visitors. Steiber, Zernicki
and Kalten carried several large trunks with them—trunks that were
zealously guarded by day and by night. These trunks contained plans of
all sorts and reports that had been returned by the myriads of spies
under the Chief of the Prussian Secret Service. Suppose these trunks
had been captured and confiscated by the French police? Suppose Steiber
and his emissaries had been arrested while they were still on French
territory? Is it too much to say that it would have changed the course
of history?
Steiber on his return to Berlin went direct to the home of the
Chancellor. He found him, as before, resting after one of those meals
for which he was famous. It seemed very familiar, the broad shoulders,
thick neck, grisly mustache, bushy eyebrows and grim, determined look.
He greeted his agent with a playful manner and bade him tell all he
knew. That consumed some time, for it must be remembered that Steiber
and his corps of assistants had spent more than two years in France. It
is true that much of the information had been sent as fast as it was
collected, but Bismarck wanted direct, first-hand news from his trusted
servant.
And while he talked the Chancellor smoked one cigar after another and
occasionally tossed bits of meat to the dogs that were constantly by
his side. After the interview Steiber received another medal to add to
the collection he had already acquired. And then Berlin, so to speak,
having set the stage, calmly awaited the course of events.
The climax came quicker than was anticipated. Napoleon demanded that
the King of Prussia should bind himself by an autograph letter never to
support Prince Leopold as a candidate for the Spanish crown. Bismarck,
confident in his power, and fortified by the knowledge that he had of
the French unpreparedness, calmly refused to lay the request before the
monarch.
This was an intolerable slight from one who was regarded as a
subordinate. A few days after this the French Ambassador chanced to
meet the King in a public walk at Ems, and there and then asked him
to give the desired promise. King William refused, with indignation,
to transact business under such circumstances and later notified the
Ambassador that he would not be given an audience at the royal palace.
Napoleon regarded this as the insult direct, and as a consequence of
the incident war was declared between the two countries. The people, of
course, were unfamiliar with real conditions. They did not know that
their country had been infested with foreign spies and that they were
utterly unprepared for war. They were angered at the apparent slight
that had been put upon the French nation and they were filled with a
burning patriotism. In no time the streets of Paris were filled with
but one cry:
“On to Berlin!”
Napoleon, heading a hastily mobilized army, marched north and camped
at Metz, whence he proposed crossing the Rhine into Germany. But the
Germans, instead of waiting for this, invaded France, hurrying directly
toward Paris. The scorn and indignation of the people was intense.
Marshal McMahon fought bravely, but was driven back, and Marshal
Bazaine, after a struggle, was driven within the fortifications at
Metz. Everything had come about as the Germans anticipated. A large
part of the French army was shut up in a trap, while the remainder
struggled for existence.
On the eve of the first of September, 1870, the King of Prussia arrived
at Versailles and took up his lodgings in the palace belonging to
the Duc de Persigny. And with him was Doctor Steiber, gloating and
continually washing his hands in invisible water. Was not all of this
his work? Had he not spied out the land? Had he not invaded France
before the army arrived? In a word, was not this conquest of the army
but a confirmation of his victory of espionage? He was more boastful
than ever and his big ears and big nose were everywhere in evidence.
While the King of Prussia ruled like a conqueror, Steiber played the
tyrant in his own way. He had large powers and he did not hesitate
to use them. One incident will show the character of the man. A
wealthy and popular young Frenchman, Monsieur de Raynal, had returned
to Versailles from his honeymoon, arriving just in time to meet the
German invaders. He kept a diary of the happenings of the invasion.
It was not much—merely a colorful account, day by day, of the doings
of the invaders. Perhaps he did not draw a flattering picture of the
Prussians. How could he? The confiscation of the offending document and
maybe the temporary imprisonment of the writer would have been ample
punishment, if indeed, any were necessary. But the beggar on horseback
did not think so.
He decreed that the gallant Frenchman should be executed. Friends of
the gentleman interceded and asked clemency on the ground that he
was but newly married and on his honeymoon. Steiber spread out his
big hands, shrugged his ugly shoulders and said, “Ah, but that only
makes my task the more painful.” Even the German soldiers entered
their protest. But in spite of it Monsieur de Raynal was executed. And
Steiber rubbed his hands, washing them, as ever, in invisible water.
But all the water in creation would not wash the blood of innocent
victims from those dirty hands!
While this was going on in Versailles the brave McMahon was pressing
forward to the relief of Bazaine. Presently he reached Sedan, where
a great battle was fought, resulting in the decisive defeat of the
French. On the evening of the following day Napoleon—Napoleon the
Little—as he was derisively called by Victor Hugo—sent a letter to the
King of Prussia in which he said:
“Not being able to die at the head of my troops, I can only resign my
sword into the hands of Your Majesty.”
Following this, Napoleon, with McMahon and 80,000 prisoners of war,
surrendered to the enemy. Three days later the Emperor was deposed
and France made a Republic. So rapidly did one event follow another.
Bazaine held out until October when he, with 6,000 officers and 170,000
men, laid down their arms. Bazaine was afterwards tried and sentenced
to degradation and death for having failed in his duty to France. The
sentence was commuted to twenty years’ imprisonment, from which he
effected his escape.
Then came the Third Republic, the siege of Paris and the treaty
of peace in February, 1871; France agreed to give up all of
German-speaking Lorraine and the whole of Alsace and to pay
5,000,000,000 francs to Germany. The story of how the inhabitants of
Alsace were compelled to choose between becoming German citizens or
leaving the province is a sad one. The melancholy procession, when
fifty thousand of them left their homes and their all and marched into
France on the 30th of September, 1872, will never be forgotten.
The great statue in the Place de la Concorde in Paris, with one of its
marble figures draped in mourning on national holidays, has been a
constant reminder to posterity.
When the victorious Germans returned to Berlin Doctor Steiber was
with them—proud and boastful as ever. The order of the Red Eagle was
added to his numerous decorations, and it was reputed that he became a
millionaire in addition.
The Franco-Prussian War—or at least the result of that war—has ever
been a mystery to patriotic Frenchmen. But the solution of it may
be found in that secret invasion of spies led by Steiber and his
unscrupulous lieutenants.
X
THE ADVENTURE OF PRIVATE MORGAN IN THE CAMP OF CORNWALLIS
This is the story of how a private soldier in the New Jersey
Brigade displayed remarkable shrewdness and unusual courage, and
participated in the glory of one of the most successful campaigns of
the Revolutionary War by acting as the agent of General Lafayette
in entering the British lines, and obtaining valuable information
concerning the movements of Cornwallis.
It is quite possible that other private soldiers of the Continental
army may have performed exploits just as thrilling in their nature, but
Charles Morgan had the good fortune to be the man of the hour, and the
fact that he secured precisely the information that was desired at one
of the critical stages of the Revolution stamps him as a man of more
than ordinary intelligence and resourcefulness. Nothing succeeds like
success, and Morgan succeeded far beyond his most sanguine expectations.
General Lafayette had reached a point in his campaign where he desired
to obtain accurate information regarding the resources and intentions
of the enemy. He had been worrying Cornwallis for several weeks and in
the summer of 1781 the British commander reached Virginia after vainly
pursuing the French general and destroying millions of dollars’ worth
of property. Eventually he reached Yorktown, on a narrow peninsula at
the mouth of the York River. He had no desire to go to this place, but
did so because there was nothing else to do under the circumstances.
During his chase of Lafayette he boastingly said: “The boy cannot
escape me,” but to his amazement the youngster with a larger army had
turned around and begun to chase him. It was then that Cornwallis had
retreated to Yorktown in order to get help by sea from New York. There
he began the work of fortifying himself, little dreaming that he was
placing himself in a trap from which it would be almost impossible to
escape. While he was waiting for the soldiers to arrive from New York
a French fleet of warships under Count de Grasse was coming to block
him. This was the great opportunity of the Continental army to strike
a blow that might be heard around the world. Washington’s plan, and
it was concurred in by Lafayette, was to march rapidly south from the
Hudson to Yorktown, and, with the help of the French fleet on one side
and Lafayette and his army on the other, to capture Cornwallis with his
whole force. Needless to say, a movement of this character required an
immense sum of money for provisions, pay and powder. In this crisis
Robert Morris, patriot and Philadelphia financier, came to the rescue
and furnished nearly $1,500,000 for the work of putting the patriot
army in the proper condition.
Lafayette disposed his forces with great military ability, but there
were some points in the proposed plan of campaign which were not
quite clear to his mind. He was anxious to procure exact information
of the strength of the forces under Cornwallis, and if possible to
learn the exact nature of that general’s plan of campaign. He looked
about him for some courageous and intelligent man who could obtain the
information he desired. His choice fell upon Charles Morgan, a member
of the New Jersey Brigade, who had attracted his attention by bravery
in battle. He sent for Morgan and told him that he considered him a
proper agent for the accomplishment of his purpose and proposed that he
should enter the British camp in the character of a deserter, but in
reality a spy.
The soldier was delighted at the thought of being selected for such a
hazardous enterprise. Lafayette at that time was in all the glory of
his young manhood. To Morgan he was the very embodiment of romance.
He had looked upon him for months with wonder and delight. He was to
him the bright particular hero of the Revolution. That a man should
give up family, friends and fortune, and all of the prospects of a
great career, should leave his own country to go to a foreign shore
for the purpose of casting his lot with the struggling colonists, made
him sublimely heroic. The courtly airs of the young nobleman also
captivated the imagination of the New Jersey soldier. Morgan, before
entering the army, had been a farmer. He was sturdy and wholesome,
yet without the benefits of an education, and the French general
dazzled him with his simplicity of manner no less than by his natural
assumption of authority. He could scarcely believe his ears when he was
told that he was to act as the confidential agent of the General in
such an important enterprise.
[Illustration: GENERAL LAFAYETTE]
“This mission,” said Lafayette, “is a dangerous one. It may cost you
your life. Under the circumstances I am not willing to order you to
do what I desire. If you go to the camp of Cornwallis it must be
a voluntary act, and with the full understanding of its possible
consequences.”
“I am perfectly willing,” was the prompt reply, “and am glad to serve
you and my country.”
The Marquis beamed upon him with satisfaction in his countenance. He
spoke to him in a fatherly manner and added:
“Now, if there is any assistance you require from me, either with money
or men, do not hesitate to ask for it.”
Morgan shook his head.
“None at all. I am glad to take the risk, but I would not like to do
this work unless my motives are perfectly understood. I only ask one
thing and that is that if I should be detected and executed you will
cause a notice to be inserted in the New Jersey papers saying that I
was acting under the orders of my commanding officer.”
The required condition was readily accepted by the General, who then
proceeded to explain just what he wished to ascertain.
That night Morgan entered the British lines in the guise of a deserter,
and was warmly welcomed by the English soldiers. The officer who
first met him looked at Morgan with some curiosity, and said:
“Why did you leave the rebels? Were you afraid that they were about to
be defeated?”
Morgan protested warmly that he had no such thought in his mind.
“I have been with the American army from the beginning of the war,” he
said, “and I went into the contest with all my heart and soul. While I
served with General Washington I was perfectly satisfied and I would
have gone until the end, but when they put me under the charge of a
Frenchman I felt that it was time to call a halt. I was unwilling to
fight under a foreigner. I did not like it, I chafed under it, and
finally I made up my mind to desert, and here I am.”
With this story, which was given with an air of the greatest
plausibility, the British were satisfied. They received the supposed
deserter without suspicion and assigned him to duty as a soldier in one
of the English regiments. But before going on actual duty the young man
was taken to Cornwallis and his story repeated. The British general
was attired in all the glory of his high office and the members of his
staff presented a glittering array of gold lace. Morgan could not help
but contrast their prosperous appearance with the shabby and threadbare
condition of the American army. Cornwallis was an imposing looking man
who evidently was filled with the importance of his rank. He spoke
harshly enough to his officers, but assumed a kindly manner with the
deserter from the American ranks.
“How many men has Lafayette under his command?” he asked.
Morgan gave a quick reply, giving the number at much less than the
actual force under the French general.
“How long will it take the Marquis to cross the James River?” asked
Cornwallis.
“Three hours, my lord,” was the answer.
“Three hours,” exclaimed Cornwallis. “Don’t you think it is more likely
to take three days?”
“Not at all, my lord,” was the response. “The Marquis has a certain
number of boats, and each boat will carry a certain number of men, and
if your Lordship will take the trouble of calculating you can find that
he can cross the stream in about three hours.”
Cornwallis turned to his officers and began speaking in an undertone to
them. There was much discussion and a great deal of shaking of heads,
and finally the Earl said in the hearing of Morgan:
“The scheme will not do. We will have to change some of the lines.”
After that Morgan was assigned to his position with one of the English
regiments. He was a hale fellow well met, and it did not take him long
to win their confidence. The circumstances under which he had come to
the British army gave him considerable latitude and he was able to go
and come pretty much as he pleased. He talked freely with the officers
and they, in turn, regarding him as a zealous convert to their cause,
did not hesitate to furnish him with the kind of information which he
most desired. Once or twice after that he was called before Cornwallis
and cross-questioned concerning the plans of the American army. He
stood this ordeal with amazing self-possession, and by his native
shrewdness managed to obtain much more information than he gave, the
difference being that his news was the product of his imagination,
while the information he obtained was accurate and clearly outlined the
movement of the forces under Cornwallis.
Morgan became the special friend of four of the men in his regiment.
After some weeks they began to tell him of their troubles. They looked
upon him as a superior and indicated by their manner a desire to follow
his advice. Each soldier was allowed a certain amount of grog each
day, and he further increased their regard for him by dividing his
liquor with them. Presently they began to complain of the privations
to which they had been subjected in the British camp. He listened with
ready sympathy and when he felt that the time was ripe assured them
privately that the American army was at the present time enjoying a
plentiful supply of provisions. He also assured them that the victory
of the American cause was as certain as that the sun would rise in the
morning. Finally, he proposed that they should all desert and go over
to the American army. The Englishmen were familiar with the passwords
and numbered the sentries among their personal friends. This helped to
make Morgan’s return to his own army comparatively easy.
Their plans were carefully made and shortly before midnight the five
men, headed by Morgan, left the British camp. They were halted by a
sentinel, who told them that they would not be permitted to leave the
British lines without a passport.
“We are only on a lark,” Morgan assured him, “and if you will let us go
by we will promise to return before daylight.”
“But if I do, it will get me into trouble,” insisted the man.
“Not at all,” was the ready retort. “You let us go and we will see that
no harm comes to you.”
As a further proof of friendship the American produced the canteen
which he had brought with him and gave the sentinel a liberal draught
of the rum. They remained talking with him for a few minutes and then
treated him to a second drink. After that he was in the humor to pass
the entire regiment without either explanations or passports.
The experience which they had with this first man was repeated with two
other sentinels, and eventually they found themselves outside of the
British lines and headed toward the American camp.
It was an unpleasant journey. They had to make their way through swampy
ground and several times found themselves up to their ankles in mud
and water. The British deserters were very much depressed and at one
stage of the trip would have gladly returned to their own camp, but
Morgan had gone too far to permit anything of that kind. He continued
to furnish them with liquor and in this way kept their courage buoyed
up to the sticking point. Finally, just before daylight, they found
themselves within sight of the American lines. The sun was shining
when Morgan reached the American camp with the four British deserters
trailing at his heels. He was received with great delight by his fellow
patriots and almost immediately escorted to the headquarters of General
Lafayette. The Marquis hastened to meet him and eagerly clapped him on
the back.
“My friend,” he said, “I am delighted to see you again—to see you in
the flesh.”
“I have carried out your instructions,” said Morgan, modestly.
“So I presume. But who is it you have with you?”
“These are four British soldiers who have decided to give themselves to
the cause of liberty.”
The General directed that the recruits be fed and clothed and enlisted
in the regiment to which Morgan was attached. After that he made Morgan
sit down and tell the story of his stay in the camp of Cornwallis. This
he was able to do with intelligence and in great detail. Lafayette thus
obtained the information which he desired. He praised his messenger
highly and told him that he would commend him to the good offices of
General Washington. In the meantime he proposed to promote him to the
rank of corporal, with the promise of still further promotion in the
near future. But the volunteer spy shook his head.
“I thank you for your goodness. I appreciate it greatly, but I do not
desire to go above the rank of an ordinary private. I have ability for
a common soldier, but should I be promoted, my ability may not be equal
to the occasion, and I would thus lose my character.”
General Lafayette laughed heartily at this unusual display of modesty,
but assured Morgan that his services would not be forgotten and that at
the proper time he would be rewarded for his sacrifice and his heroism.