suspicion, to march boldly into the headquarters of the enemy and
volunteer for service in _their_ interests. So completely was this plan
worked out that the agents were actually furnished with suitable
information for their reports should they be engaged. This information
was usually of the most terrible nature imaginable. The Germans were
able to expose people whom they desired to see punished, some for quite
harmless reasons, others for spite, and in not a few cases so that
superior agents might be spared the necessity of paying for services
which had become unavailable or undesirable.
At first blush it would seem that such an audacious thing as offering to
serve as a spy would allay suspicion but, on the contrary, it had the
very opposite effect. The German espionage is probably unique in this
respect of employing volunteer spies. Not only does it account for the
ease by which other nations have “planted” their own agents in that
service, but it makes compulsory the employment of a large number of
other agents to keep a watchful eye on these volunteers whose loyalty
has been submitted to no severe test. No other nation readily recruits
its agents in this way. The work is too confidential, demands such
unquestioned trust and imposes such heavy responsibilities, that the
agents are most often selected with great care from among men whose
loyalty and faithfulness are beyond question. In not a few cases a man’s
patriotism is the only thing which can be appealed to in order to induce
him to overcome a natural prejudice for a profession which so often
implies the betrayal of people whose trust he has deliberately sought.
Thus, when the agent has already been subjected to test before
employment and has been found to possess the necessary qualifications,
it is not so necessary to subject him to a perpetual supervision as was
the case in the German system, where many notorious wrongdoers were
employed and where enemy deserters were greedily encouraged. Certainly
these types proved easy to discipline because they were in constant fear
of exposure by their paymasters should their services become either
undesirable or unsatisfactory. On the other hand, the police force
necessary to control their doubtful agents had to be elaborate and it
proved to be one of the most efficient departments of the service and
many of their best agents were so employed. For the most part they were
entirely devoid of scruples; they had no compunction in denouncing the
men they watched, and denunciation frequently followed some harmless
deviation from the strict path of duty.
To volunteer for secret-service work on behalf of a nation that recruits
its agents with some degree of care is to incur the immediate suspicion
that some ulterior motive inspires the action. In spite of this
doctrine, which was so generally accepted by the Intelligence services
outside of Germany, that the Germans themselves could hardly have been
wholly unacquainted with it, they continued to instruct their agents to
volunteer for enrollment in the enemy secret service should they ever
have reason to believe that they were under suspicion.
Naturally, the agent was placed in a very difficult situation. First,
the counter-espionage agent of his own service, charged with supervising
him, might imagine that the agent was acting falsely and take drastic
measures for disciplining him. Second, the agent had to accept whatever
mission was allotted to him by his new employers, and after making
pretence of performing it had to present a report which must bear the
scrutiny of experts. He was, therefore, running a double risk. The work
had one very useful purpose, however, in revealing those points on which
the enemy were most interested, and for this reason served its purpose.
The agent, having volunteered for service, usually reported this fact
immediately to his superior, to whom he also communicated the nature of
the information he was required to provide. If the German headquarters
approved of his action they supplied the man with the necessary replies
to meet his requirements, and thus deceived the enemy. But spies working
in two camps are never trusted until they have given unmistakable proof
of their loyalty and, on the Allied side at least, an offer of
enlistment was usually enough to bring a person under grave suspicion of
having been sent by the other side. If the volunteer was known to be in
the employ of the German service, the action taken greatly depended upon
what purpose he could be made to serve.
How terribly dangerous the course of volunteering for this service
sometimes proved to be is illustrated by the case of Princess
Wisnievsky. Although entitled to the rank of princess, she was not born
to the purple; it was an acquisition by marriage. Her beginnings were so
humble that she began at the very opposite end of the social ladder, for
she was deserted by her unknown parents in the streets of Paris and was
educated at public expense until she was in a position to look after
herself. Being of an enterprising nature, the future princess came to an
early decision that a life of independence was preferable to the irksome
restraint of a state orphanage. She took the first opportunity to embark
on a career. After many vicissitudes she became a rival to Mata Hari in
her profession. At the age of thirty-three she resembled a miniature
League of Nations, having taken as lovers an Egyptian, an Argentine, a
Serbian, an Italian, an Englishman, and a German, before marrying an
indisputable Polish prince who was a naturalized Italian. To complete
this lady’s amazing international complications, it is worth mentioning
that she finally was lost to view in a Spanish prison, charged with the
murder of a Canadian.
The German lover was a member of his country’s secret service and,
having found that the countess (it was before her marriage and she had
elevated herself to the nobility with a title of her own choice) could
be of use to him in his work, he induced the feather-brained lady to
enroll as a member of the same service. Her romantic mind promptly
responded to the lure of adventure and she considered herself
particularly fitted for the execution of confidential missions among the
diplomats of Europe. But it was not long before the indiscretions in
which she indulged brought her under the unfavourable notice of the
French secret police. She was at the time editing a magazine which
specialized in foreign politics, a labour which was found to cloak her
spying under the guise of diplomacy. Her work was done so clumsily that
it was felt most advantageous to allow her to continue in spreading
misinformation through her review. For some time the princess was a joke
among the men of the French secret service, until one day one of them
frightened her into volunteering for the work of a spy in French
interests. She was employed because the French were anxious to learn
what the enemy wished them to believe upon certain subjects. They
surmised that the lady would apply to her German employers for the
correct form of the information she was asked to furnish, and by
following her it was hoped to learn who was the head of her group. There
was nothing to learn until the lady herself suggested how she should be
employed. On being granted permission to act independently, she went
direct to San Sebastián, where she was given a very complete report upon
the situation in Spain, precisely as the German authorities wished that
situation to be understood by France. At that time Spain was in the
predicament of not knowing which of the belligerents to support, but the
San Sebastián propagandists were giving to the voice of the Spanish
people a strong German accent, and it was hoped that the French might be
deceived by sending back the double spy with a false account of the
situation which pretended to come from some of the diplomats who
contributed to the princess’ review. Knowing its origin, the French were
able to understand a difficult situation much better with the aid of the
comments which the princess furnished.
Between Mata Hari and the Princess Wisnievsky there was a vast
difference in spite of the few points of similarity in their lives. The
titled lady was never dangerous, but Mata Hari was an artist, and that
profession demands intelligence of a very high order. Had she been left
to obtain information on the spy system in Belgium, it is probable that
she would have tried another method than this, employing a greater
finesse. Instead, it bears the unmistakable mark of the German secret
service and its inability to discard outworn methods.
One morning Mata Hari called at the office of the Second Bureau and
asked to interview a responsible officer. It is doubtful whether any
visitor ever reached the inner sanctum of this almost impenetrable
department with less delay. Not one, but a whole group of responsible
officers awaited her pleasure. Each member of the group knew of Mata’s
employment as a spy and the deadly measure of her achievement, and all
hoped that sooner or later she would commit some indiscretion which
would enable them to penetrate the intricate defences she had erected
about herself and so grasp the tangible proof of her guilt. But for the
moment there was only one fear that was common to them all, and that was
the fear that some overzealous agent in pressing his enquiries had
caused her to suspect that the Second Bureau were interested in what she
was doing, and that the visit was merely the spy’s customary method of
self-protection, which would be followed by an increase of precaution
that would remove from their possession the means of supervising her
correspondence. If Mata Hari changed her channel of conveying
information, the Second Bureau would have to begin again at the
beginning. However, their interest in her arrival was interpreted by the
visitor as a tribute to her personal popularity and aroused no
suspicion. No woman is proof against her own vanity.
Mata Hari explained that she wished to accept employment in the French
secret service and recited her qualifications for the work, mentioning
her numerous acquaintances in influential positions in Berlin and other
places.
“But,” asked Captain Ledoux, “you will pardon us if we approach this
question carefully. What is your motive, madame, in volunteering for
this work? You are a Dutch subject. It cannot be patriotism which urges
you to undertake the task, and obviously there must be some strong
motive which inspires you to perform work that might end in your death.”
“There is no question of my patriotism, _mon capitaine_. Nor is there
any question of treachery, for Germany is not my country. My sympathies
are with France and I am willing to work for her provided you will pay
for my services. I am in desperate need of money.”
This was certainly a strange answer, because Mata Hari had just made
some fresh dancing engagements for which she was well paid and she had
not spent all the money obtained for the sale of her furniture. Besides,
she had other means of restoring her finances that were less hazardous
than engaging in the task of spying against Germany.
“Since you suspect that, because I am only a neutral, I may not be
animated by motives of loyalty to France,” she continued, “I will give
you proofs of my sincere attachment to your country. Yes, I will give
you those proofs before asking to be assigned any work in your service.”
After a little questioning the officers found that there was little
information they could gather on points which they supposed she might
have been instructed to inform them. But they did not know the
tremendous extent of her secret knowledge.
“Do you know, messieurs, how the Moors are being supplied with arms?”
she asked when their questions had ceased.
“Yes, we know that.”
“You know that they are being landed from submarines, but do you know
where and when? Naturally you do not or you would have stopped it. Then
I will tell you if you think that it would be of interest.”
Interest!
Since the beginning of the war the German propagandists had been
stirring up trouble in Morocco and Algeria among the native population,
who, as recently as 1912, had shown their willingness to revolt by
brutally murdering the Europeans as a protest against the French
protectorate. In order to encourage them to take further steps of open
antagonism which would detain troops for the maintenance of order, the
German authorities were providing a supply of modern rifles for the most
intransigeant. This was regarded as such a severe threat to the French
colony, in view of the fact that every available soldier was to be
withdrawn from Morocco for service on the French front, that espionage
agents had worked laboriously but unsuccessfully to discover how the
weapons were admitted to the country. That Mata Hari should offer to
furnish this information filled them with blank amazement. However, one
of the officers assured her that if she could offer enlightenment on the
problem there could be no further reason to doubt her loyalty.
“Then, messieurs, if you will watch the harbour of Mehediya during the
early days of March you will be rewarded. Submarines run their cargoes
of rifles into that harbour before taking their station at the entrance
to the Mediterranean sea.”
“That is exceedingly interesting, madame, if true. Suppose you allow us
a little time to ascertain the truth of the statement. If we find that
what you say is correct you will be given a mission in our service.
Would you also mind telling us how you, living here in Paris, should
have come into possession of such very confidential information?”
“I am frequently required to visit the homes of diplomats to provide
entertainment to their guests and with some of them I have an intimacy
which enables me to hear the conversations at their dinner tables. Those
diplomats are not always as discreet as they should be, messieurs. It
was at a recent dinner that I heard this conversation about the
submarines and I thought it might be of value to you.”
After the lapse of only a few days Mata Hari was summoned to appear at
the office of the Second Bureau, but this time she was not admitted with
quite so much ease as on her first visit. The French were surer of her
now. When at last she was admitted to see Captain Ledoux and his
colonel, she was informed that the information concerning the German
submarines had been proved correct. The previous night two of these
craft had been sunk in an attempt to land rifles at Mehediya.
“We have had sufficient proof of your integrity,” said the chief of the
Second Bureau, “and if you continue as you have begun you will be of the
greatest value to us. All that now remains is to utilize your services
to the best advantage. Have you any suggestion to make?”
“Well, _mon colonel_, I have recently signed a contract to dance in
Brussels. You know that as a Dutch subject I am privileged to move about
in the territories of the countries at war. It is easy for me to get to
Brussels from my own country, especially as I have influential friends
who will help me. What could I do in Brussels? Do you have difficulty in
conveying instructions to your agents there? One of my diplomat friends
told me that it was exceedingly difficult to get the required kind of
information from the agents in occupied territory, because it was so
hard to tell them what was required. I suggest, therefore, _mon
colonel_, that you employ me in carrying instructions to the agents whom
you have already there. Being a woman, I might not know just what to
look for if I were left to myself, but if there are others to do the
work I would gladly get in touch with them to carry out your
instructions.”
“That is a good idea. Prepare yourself for the journey then, and when
you are ready to depart we will give you a list of our agents in Belgium
with whom we wish to communicate, and a copy of the instructions we
would like to have conveyed to them.”
In such simple fashion did Mata Hari carry out the instructions of her
employers and obtain for them the invaluable documents which meant so
much to the weary espionage agents confronted with the growing audacity
of the spies whose actions were invariably obscured by the willing help
of countless civilians. When the precious list of twelve spies was
handed to Mata Hari, the officer of the Second Bureau conducting the
business impressed upon her the necessity of guarding it with her life,
should such an extreme penalty be exacted in its defence. The value of
that piece of paper to the Germans, he said, was incalculable, and if
they knew it was in her possession there was not the slightest doubt
that they would make strenuous efforts to relieve her of it. The
instructions were not less valuable because they would convey to the
enemy knowledge of those points upon which the French most required
information and naturally those particular things would be guarded with
redoubled care. The officer then wished her good fortune on her first
mission for the French.
Of course Mata Hari did not take any special precautions to conceal
those valuable documents about her person. It was simpler and much
quicker for the purpose for which they were intended to put them into a
letter sent by prearranged channels directly to the espionage leaders in
Holland. Her own journey must, of necessity, be delayed because it was
inevitable in those war days that she must travel through England, where
she would take passage on the _Hook of Holland_ steamer. There was no
alternative to that journey when one was in France. The risk of exposing
herself to the London police was enormously reduced by the mission she
was sent on, because the officer at the Second Bureau had already told
her that she would be “signalled” to them, whose duty it would then be
to facilitate her passage, but by sending the letter containing the
required information through her secret and safe private channels it
would arrive before she did.
What the English police thought about their visitor has not been said.
It is not to be supposed that the presence of a spy in their midst
causes any consternation to the police, more especially when that spy’s
arrival has been “signalled” by other police. To know that a suspected
or known spy is arriving at Victoria gives the long-suffering London
“Bobbie” a feeling of joy. It saves him a vast amount of labour in
tracking him down when the job is reduced to one of mere watching, an
art in which the men of Scotland Yard excel. Once they have located
their man they stick to him with the tenacity of the bulldog which is
the symbol of their breed, and they miss nothing of the other people
whom he meets. They could appreciate the situation in which Mata Hari
was placed because they made such good use of the double spy themselves,
always, or nearly always, to their own advantage. But Mata Hari was a
problem. They did not like her, they knew too much of her history to
ever develope any fondness for her and, to be quite frank, they did not
believe that her sudden conversion was sincere. However, they were
prepared to accommodate their French colleagues.
When Mata Hari arrived in England it is quite probable that she made
careful note of the war material collected in the harbour at Dover,
where she landed. She had an unexpected stroke of good luck in being
detained a few days in London, where she was able to observe the effects
of the air raids and to note some of the measures taken to combat them.
This was information which she had been instructed by the Germans to
gather in Paris, so that it must be of equal value if applied to London.
Her detention in the English capital was not altogether unavoidable, but
since the English police just wanted to make quite certain that there
was no one in London to whom she might apply in case of necessity, they
got the clerk at the travel bureau to inform her that there were so many
applicants for berths on the _Hook of Holland_ steamer that she would
have to wait some days before one could be allotted to her. When it was
certain that she had nothing to reveal, the London police had no further
motive in delaying her, so Mata Hari was informed that another boat was
available for her journey and that the police would make the necessary
arrangements for her. The obliging men went further; they escorted her
to the boat and saw that everything was made comfortable and convenient
for her.
This obstacle happily surmounted, Mata Hari was able to retire to her
berth before the ship pulled out of the Medway under its escort, with
the satisfied feeling that she had outwitted her oldest enemies, had
completely deceived the French, and had performed another of those
surprisingly brilliant feats of espionage which are associated with her
name and which read like romances. A safe haven lay ahead. In Holland
she would be received gratefully by her employers, there would no longer
be the strain of living under constant fear of danger, especially that
danger that creeps up from behind. Instead there would be reunion with
her lover from whom she had been so long separated and for whom she had
worked in exile with unfailing success in a series of the boldest
exploits; there were innumerable old friends of that officer class she
had learned to adore; and, besides, she was weary of Paris; she needed a
change of pleasures and a variety in dissipation. Of course, there could
now be no return to Paris until she went in the wake of the victorious
German troops to enjoy a truly Roman triumph, with her former French
lovers as her trophies. It was a pleasant prospect.
_Chapter Eleven_
The officers of the Second Bureau were not really quite such easy dupes
as Mata Hari had supposed them to be. True, her first visit to their
departmental offices had produced a momentary pang of disappointment
which was speedily dispelled. The reason the spy had given for
approaching them was her urgent need for money, a very plausible excuse
for one with her extravagant tastes, but it was learned on enquiry that
her bank account enjoyed an unaccustomed balance. Thus relieved of their
first anxiety, that their zeal had alarmed the spy and that she would
become more cautious than ever, and persuaded that there was a dangerous
underlying motive for her extraordinary conduct, they decided to allow
the affair to follow a natural course in the expectation that something
more might be learned.
The news of the German submarines increased their perplexity. To anyone
unaware of the tortuous methods of secret services this piece of
information and the use made of it presents special interest. The
betrayal seems inexplicable. Here was a woman who pretended to have been
working in the comparative isolation of a field ambulance in the forward
area, and had been performing in Spanish theatres, volunteering
knowledge which had eluded the search of the cleverest agents in the
French service working with infinitely greater resources. If the
information was false no good purpose could be served in surrendering
it. If it was true, how could she have obtained knowledge of it?
Certainly none of the neutral diplomats in Paris was in any position to
become acquainted with such a treasured secret as the submarine cruises,
but even if she had obtained the knowledge from an outside source Mata
Hari had been a spy too long to be unconscious of the risks she ran by
committing such a breach of confidence. It was suicide if unauthorized.
Information of this nature was so jealously guarded that only those
immediately concerned with the allocation of the duties could ever have
possession of it (often the submarine commanders received sealed
orders), and to share such secrets was equivalent to an admission that
she was in the innermost counsels of the enemy. We have already said
that it is futile to apply the ordinary standards of conduct to the
secret-service agent. Here is further proof. The revelation of such
information to gain the confidence of the enemy is a method advocated in
the German manual of military Intelligence.