-Caveat Lector- an excerpt from: Revelations of an International Spy I. T. T. Lincoln Robert M. McBride & Company©1916 New York --[3]-- CHAPTER III HOW I OBTAINED THE SECRETS OF THE FRENCH FOREIGN OFFICE BEFORE I proceed with my narrative I must introduce two interesting persons, both of whom played a very important part as sources of secret diplomatic intelligence in what is to follow: "My Readers-Mademoiselle Celeste." "My Readers-Monsieur Legrange." Mademoiselle, I met at Ostend—the rendezvous of the upper 10,000 in summer, the queen of the watering places, gay, fashionable Ostend. It was in 1906. I often spent my week-ends there, not only to seek recreation and divertisement from the week's work, but principally on the lookout for a female secret agent. I was looking out for one of those demi-mondaines who combine to a remarkable degree intelligence, wit, shrewdness, and spirit of adventure with superb physical beauty. You find in Ostend during July and August (not since 1909 when the gaming laws were rigidly enforced) the leaders of the demi-monde, those who in the late fall are in Paris; in winter, in Nice and Monte Carlo; in the spring, in Algiers; and in the summer, in Ostend or Trouville. I have met several of them; but alas, when I put them through the various tests, they were all found wanting. At last my chance came, for chance it was. One afternoon I went into the superb Kursaal (the finest in the world) of Ostend and straightway I steered towards the club privee, under which pseudonym the gambling rooms have to be understood. This had to be done in order to circumvent the Belgian gaming laws. Nobody except members could gain admission-but everybody could become a member. So this day I went in, always looking out for a suitable medium—for I had important work in hand for which a female spy was indispensable. There was only one roulette table in Ostend and that one without zero. At all the other tables, baccarat a' deux tables was being played. The roulette was merely there to draw the crowd-it was only open three times a day, one hour each time, the rest of the time one had to play baccarat. So this day when I got to the roulette table there was not only no seat to be had, but a crowd three deep was surging right round the table. I took up my position at the near corner behind a lady and a gentleman. "Faites vos jeux, Messieurs, le jeu est fait, rien va plus"—around went the ivory ball. I could not take part in the game, could simply not get anywhere near enough. The lady and gentleman in front of me-whom I thought were together—staked and lost. Again and again. "Rien va plus," sounded the monotonous and mechanical invitation of the croupier. "Mettez votre argent sur le deux," ventured I forth with my advice to the lady in front of me. She turned around—great Scott! what a beauty I and when she plaintively asked, "Croyez vous que je gagnerais," with a melancholy look in her charming blue eyes, I thought I felt an electric shock. She followed my advice and she won! Strange coincidence. Now she turned to me for further advice. "Le neuf!" I said I convincingly. She staked and won again. Many noticing my strange powers of prophecy, now eagerly asked me for a tip! "L'onze," I said as if I had been a real prophet. Truth is stranger than fiction. My third number won. Never in all my gambling experience had I myself spotted three numbers in succession. I now advised my follower to stop and leave the table. I myself felt compelled to leave it—for my renown as a prophet soon spread right around the table and the notoriety thus gained became decidedly embarrassing. I sauntered out, went into the large baccarat room, and did not notice at all that I was followed by Lady Beauty. "Monsieur, je dois vous remercier bien vivement, mais quelle chance." She said this so nicely, accompanied by a bewitching smile and enchanting twinkle in her eyes that I felt amply repaid for my jocular advice. "Vous avez bien fait de discontinuer de jouer— et votre ami?" "Le qui?" "Le Monsieur a' cote de vous." "Lui? It n'est pas mon ami, je ne le connais pas." Oho! that was good information. Right away I invited her to tea, which she accepted. We sat down to a table near the glass door looking out on the light green North Sea and facing the orchestra; there was just then the daily organ recital. She called herself Celeste. Celeste, the Charming. For such was she. Of charming figure, golden blonde, sparkling blue eyes, and the daintiest hands I have ever set my eyes upon. A fluent and entertaining conversationalist, chittering like a happy young bird under a blue sky, full of vivacity, verve and playfulness. She was my guest at dinner; I met her next day and we spent the day together; that was Sunday. I had to return to Brussels but promised to see her next Saturday. As a matter of fact I went out to Ostend on Wednesday afternoon. I was anxious to find out whether she was the much sought agent. I was not in a hurry to make up my mind; a wise selection meant very much to me; a mistake in selecting an unsuitable person might have fatal results. I met her very frequently, and when I could not spend the week-end at Ostend, she came to Brussels to spend the week-end there at my invitation. This went on for about five weeks—when she returned to Paris. Now we leave her to meet her again in Paris. Let us now turn to Monsieur Legrange. M. Legrange hides the real identity of a "fonctionnaire" (permanent official) at the Quai d'Orsay. I have in a preceding chapter pointed out the peculiarities of French ministries and the great influence permanent officials have, who are easy targets for a foreign spy. My frequent visits to several ministries in Paris gave me the necessary clue to the prosecution of my secret investigations. I had selected a fonctionnaire in the political department of the Foreign Office, one of the subordinates of Monsieur Louis, the Director of the Political Department there. M. Louis was some years later appointed French Ambassador in St. Petersburg, being the immediate predecessor of Monsieur Delcasse. M. Legrange was high up on the ladder, but was not one of the highest. But all confidential documents, instructions, reports, despatches, arriving or leaving M. Louis' department, had to pass through his hands. I knew him, he knew me—but only in my capacity as the Mr. Rowntree's secretary, pursuing economic investigations in France. I saw that open direct bribery was out of the question—I devised another plan. M. Legrange was a man who loved the good things of life and would have gone to great length had his means allowed him. My plan now was to foster in him this "aptitude' I and then lead him in my trap from which there was to be no escape. I often invited him to luncheon and dinners. Always in expensive hotels, to make him dissatisfied with his milieu. Once he was my guest at a luncheon with another fonctionnaire from the Ministry of the Interior at the Hotel Ritz in Paris; the lunch for us three having cost over three hundred francs with wines and cigars. In the evenings I used to take him to a box in the Grand Opera, the Opera Comique, or some other theater, to be followed by a supper party at some gay place. On every occasion I took him to a theater I was accompanied by another demi-mondaine, as my friend. I made him fairly envious. I also motored out with him to Eughien-les-Bains to the Casino there, that he should see me gamble. For him I was a gay Lothario,. who seemed to live only for the pleasures of this life and seemed to have had plenty of money for the purpose. Then I would return to Brussels, leaving him to contemplate the inequalities of life. I succeeded thoroughly in making him dissatisfied with his lot. I had gained my first step. I was spreading my net. I want here to remark that "D" knew nothing of my methods; he never asked me how I obtained my information. Autumn again found me in Paris and one of my first visits was upon Celeste B___, my fascinating friend of the gaming table at Ostend, who had a charming apartment not far from the Porte de Vincennes. Celeste expressed surprise and genuine delight in seeing me again. Of course, we dined together. We drove out to Negresco in Enghienles-Bains. I met her every day. At last I thought the time had come to act. I began to talk to her about spies and spying. Of course, she was interested. Who is not? I used to tell her of famous women spies, of their wonderful achievements, fascinating work, extraordinary adventures. Soon the question that I was angling for was uncovered. "How can one like myself become a spy?" "Why do you ask me ? How should I know?" I said with polite indifference, dropping the sub-ject for the moment. Touching lightly upon a different phase of women's skill in espionage at all our little dinner parties and junkets about Paris, I finally one day pulled out with great deliberation a package of documents and gave her a glimpse of British embassy seals and other official letterheads. My preliminary tests had been satisfactory; her eagerness and excitement now made the desirable opening. "Celeste, I have it in my power to make you a secret agent with splendid rewards for good work." "You want to?" She was quite beside herself with joy. I started unfolding to her a scheme. Desdemona could not have listened more rapturously to Othello than Celeste listened to me. I told her of moving behind the scenes of high diplomacy, of watching and analyzing the moves of sovereigns and ministers, of spying upon them, of unraveling hidden and tangled webs of intrigues, of plotting schemes to undo the plots of others, of playing with men like with puppets, to gain the desired information that determined the fate of nations. "Now, Celeste, the first duty of every secret agent is to obey the orders of your superior without question," I said, bringing our conversation to an abrupt close. "My first instructions are these: To-morrow afternoon about 5 P.m. come to the Taverne Royale. If possible bring a gentleman friend with you, but when you leave the place, leave it alone. The gentleman must not go with you. You will see me in the Taverne Royale—on the 'terrace' or inside with a gentleman. Be careful not to show by any sign whatever that you know me or have ever seen me. The gentleman with me is a high official at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. His name is M. Legrange. For the next few weeks, months perhaps, you are to devote yourself to him." "Quelle aventure!" she exclaimed, jumping up and dancing about the room. "You must understand, Celeste, this is serious business. You must forget yourself in this task. And I ask myself, 'Can you do it without losing your heart?' He is a charming man." Her enthusiasm for this ugly commission made me shudder a bit inwardly when I thought of Legrange. She could not fail, she protested vigorously, so I handed her a check for 2,000 francs, the advance in her first month of service, promising more in the successful issue of our plan. She took an affectionate farewell of me—and I went rather in conflict with myself. Secret Service work is often cruel. I had perhaps little reason to doubt Celeste's loyalty—and yet one never knows absolute security in espionage. So, unknown to her, I had arranged with her pretty maid to act as my shadow. Indeed, that very night before I met her and gave her full instructions to watch her mistress closely, to read the letters and notes Celeste received and sent out. When I handed her 250 francs as her first month's pay—she thought she was a millionairess! A simple Breton girl! It was several months before I returned to Paris again, but I had suffered no anxiety about Celeste and the prodigious holes she was making in M. Legrange's bank account. Ninette, the maid, had written that "Monsieur Georges was playing a good deal and plunging always." There was apparently nothing to do but wait for his bankers to deny him the necessary accommodation. One Saturday evening, soon after my return, I drove out to Enghien-les-Bains, to indulge in a little gambling at the Casino there. I find sitting around the green table after a week's work a great relaxation—particularly if you win. Well, this night I have had remarkable luck. In Enghien only baccarat a deux tables or chemins-de-fer are played. The bank belongs to whoever buys it. The Casino provides the rooms, tables, croupiers, etc., and collects of each 100 francs on the table, a progressive tax which is divided between the Town of Enghien (which owns the Casino) and the French Republic. In chemins-de-fer the bank goes round the table in strict order, save if a winning banker—after three rounds—wants to retire. In this case the bank does not go to his next neighbor, but is put up for auction and goes to the highest bidder. A retiring bank was for sale. Having had luck, I bought it for a rather big amount. The table was crowded, as the gambling was very high. The buying of a big bank riveted the attention of all on me. Two or three paces to my left amidst a surging crowd of onlookers and occasional pointeurs stood my friend Legrange. He now noticed me, and disentangling himself from the crowd, came and stood right behind me. We exchanged very cordial greetings. I dealt out—the whole bank was staked by two American ladies. All was in suspense. Without looking at my cards I asked the orthodox question: "Cards?" "No," came back the reply. According to the rules of the game I now turned up my cards and had the seven of spades and the ace of diamonds. I had won. "Faites vos jeux Messieurs, le jeu est fait, rien va plus," shouted mechanically the croupier. The same two American ladies doubled. I dealt out amid great excitement. They asked for another card, which according to the rules of the game I dealt open. It was the four of hearts. Diable! I thought this time they would win. I turned up my two cards—they were the nine of diamonds and the ace of clubs! In other words, I had as yet nothing. I took a third and last card—the eight of spades! I had won again. Gamblers are superstitious! They did not have the courage to play against me. There were six or seven small amounts staked, fortunately, for I lost. This gave me the desired opportunity to retire. I got up straightway and took Legrange by the arm and drew him into a secluded corner in the next room. There was a shocking change in his appearance. His beard was not so carefully clipped and trimmed as formerly, his step was heavy, his eyes unsteady, and his laugh hard and metallic. I noticed during conversation that although he was listening, his thoughts were wandering in far-away regions. Legrange was near a physical, financial, and moral collapse. I invited him to dine with me. He declined with profuse apologies and thanks, but "his amie" was also there I He went to find her—whilst I went out and smoked a cigarette. I was introduced to her, Celeste acting her part with perfect detail. We dined in the Negresco restaurant together, but Legrange was not the alert and graphic conversationalist of a few months ago; the burden upon his mind was not to be thrown off even for an evening's merry mak-ing. Towards the end of January I learned that Legrange was, in the hands of usurers and I gave instructions to Celeste to be in Monte Carlo if possible the second week in February and bring Le-grange with her. >From Toulon I went on to Monte Carlo, "D" arriving from Genoa the next day, having spent a holiday in Egypt. I wanted to see Celeste at Monte Carlo as I was ready for my coup. I expected great events for 1907. I knew of Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace's plots (on behalf of his royal master) in St. Petersburg the year before. I also knew of the negotiations of Mons. Isvolsky in Paris during his first visit to Paris after his appointment as Russia's Foreign Minister (May, 1906). I knew of the contemplated Mediterranean cruise of Edward VII and of the meeting that was arranged to take place between him and the King of Spain and the King of Italy, of the forthcoming visits of the Russian squadron to English naval ports, of the negotiations pending and far advanced towards conclusion of agreement between England and Russia, Russia and Japan, France and Japan. Hence it was imperative that I should quickly be informed on all these matters. Evidently the net was tightening. Schemes of far reaching importance were being discussed and 'decisions reached. Naturally I had all the facilities and opportunities to keep myself informed on all these points—but my methods had to be cautious, circuitous. It might take me weeks or months to get the whole story of all these events, yet it was highly desirable that I should know them as soon as reports reached the French Foreign Office on any of these coming events. I had to force matters with Legrange. I had asked Celeste to be at Monte Carlo with him. I reasoned as follows: Legrange was already heavily in debt—if he should lose and lose heavily at Monte Carlo, he would probably ask me for a temporary loan. This is of everyday occurrence there. People who in other towns or under any other circumstances would on no account approach a friend for a temporary loan, do so without any compunction at Monte Carlo. I once loaned money to a Russian general at Monte Carlo—a chance acquaintance of mine—having only spoken to him two or three times in the Casino. He paid it next day. Now, Mons. Legrange, whom I knew well was a man who was rather proud and who liked to play the Grand Seigneur. We dined together, we had an occasional motor drive to Fontainebleau or in Normandy—we discussed politics, diplomacy, etc., but I was disappointed that-although hard pressed for money by his creditors and although requiring more and more for Celeste's extravagant tastes—he never approached me for money, though by hints and carefully guarded references I conveyed to him that I was open to suggestion. I, therefore, tried the Monte Carlo scheme. Enghien—well there is gambling there, but it is not a real gambling place. An official like Legrange, if he goes there at all, spends an hour or two and goes home. Nothing much can happen. But Monte Carlo is unique. It exists for gambling and gambling alone. Its raison d'etre is gambling. The whole atmosphere, organization of the place, entices you to gambling. I thought he might "bite on" there. Celeste had strict instructions from me not to be friendly with me; indeed, to play her role as if our meeting at Enghien had been our first and only one. When I arrived at Monte Carlo I put up at a small hotel under an assumed name. I knew, of course, at what hotel Legrange and Celeste, were staying, and soon after my arrival I called her up. She was to go to the Casino that evening between 9 and 9.30 P.m., stroll into the small salon on the right (through the trente-et-quarante room); I would be sitting at the roulette table. She was to walk round the table with Legrange until Legrange saw me. So it happened. As soon as Legrange noticed me, he was evidently very pleased. It is a psychological phenomenon that casual acquaintances meeting in Monte Carlo are at once friends, whilst the latter evidence boundless joy at meeting there. ,lie suis enchante de vous voir ici, quel bonheur! Quand Res vous venus? Mais quelle chance!" and so forth. I bowed to "Madame" and made my compliments. Where was I staying, eh? I was really staying at Cannes—I said—and only come over sometimes. I left the table and strolled out with Legrange to the terrace. It was a beautiful evening. Before us lay the moonlit Mediterranean, calm, balmy; we were surrounded by the beautiful Casino gardens. Legrange was melancholic, depressed. From past experiences I knew that this was a favorable opportunity to draw him into a discussion on international politics. With the stage set so auspiciously what more natural than that we should discuss Edward's forthcoming Mediterranean cruise. He was in a bitter frame of mind and went on complainingly: "I cannot understand our foreign policy. In order to gain back Alsace-Lorraine we support Russia's adventures in the Far East and say 'yes' and 'amen' to whatever she does in Europe. For the same reason, we support, nay we concoct with you English an anti-German policy. To my mind we should have gone a long step forward towards solving the Alsace question if after Fashoda we had accepted the advances of Germany and instead of offending her by the Morocco deal, made an honest understanding with her." "I agree with you, such a policy on your part would have compelled France to join and become the friends of both you and Germany." "But, mon cher Monsieur Lincoln, it was impossible, yes, quite impossible. We Frenchmen are brought up with hatred towards everything German. We are taught to see in every move of Germany nothing but brutal aggression. It is instilled into us by our textbooks in school, by our parents, by our newspapers, by our statesmen and politicians. If the present policy of England and France will issue in war—and I cannot see how it can be prevented unless one side gives up the policy hitherto pursued—it will be useless to lay the blame on this thing or that event. It is destiny. We cannot escape it. We do not believe Germany; we distrust her, we hate her. No agreement or facts can counteract the carefully nursed influences of school, home, and public life." This expose greatly impressed me. It hit the nail on its head. It was the truth! I tried to pump him about Edward's contemplated steps in France, Spain, and Italy during his forthcoming visits to these countries, but he knew nothing more than merely the outlines of the steps and the direction of policy. Evidently pourparlers were still going on. We reentered the Casino as Celeste was playing there. The balmy air of the Riviera, the quiet conversation, revived both of us. We sat down at the trente-et-quarante table; Celeste remained at one of the roulette tables. Legrange won and won heavily. Next day—we met in the Casino by appointment—Legrange, lost, and so after a while he discontinued. He was evidently anxious to keep his gains. In the evening he lost bit by bit, and went deeper and deeper into the game. He became flurried and excited—he lost more. And then discontinued. And the next day he lost his all. He asked me for 1,000 francs till next day, having wired for money to Paris. Indeed, he repaid me next day. Within two days he lost all his freshly received money and borrowed from me—until we met in Paris, where, I told him, I expected to be within six or seven days. I remained in Monte Carlo one more day with "D." He impressed upon me the absolute necessity of obtaining precise information on Edward's contemplated steps, so that he might voice an opposition to them in the columns of the Nation, in Parliament, and in the Cabinet. Let Sir Edward Grey now recollect the heated arguments he had with some of the Cabinet Ministers in early summer (or late spring), who even went to the Prime Minister and argued against Edward's policy. But they were fooled, left in the dark. "Who were the lady and the gentleman I saw you almost constantly with?" asked "D." "The lady my agent, the gentleman my victim!" was my laconic reply. "I believe that if half you do to get your information were known, you would be considered a Jekyll and Hyde. "No, sir!" I replied. "I would be considered the very Devil himself." "D," of course, was by no means a child in the game of subterranean diplomacy, but—he will pardon me for saying this-he had the hypocritical attributes of his race—he liked to pretend to be shocked. We both returned to Paris, I remaining there while he continued to London. I met Legrange in Paris and he promptly repaid me, but I knew from Celeste that he was terribly worried by his creditors. The time had arrived for action. I had to return to Brussels on Mr. Rowntree's business. I returned to Paris with a subagent of mine, Heinrich. Heinrich was an interesting fellow. He had a dignified, almost aristocratic appearance, thanks to his height, broad shoulders, faultless dressing, but above all to his dark full beard. It gave him the appearance of a distinguished French diplomat, or a grand seigneur. His speech was deliberate, slow, but he could be bitingly sarcastic, peremptorily cruel. He was a great actor. I got him to buy up some of Legrange's overdue notes. I sent him to Legrange. I told him on no amount to enter into bargaining, but to make a savage assault on him—a frontal attack. The same day I sent Celeste away from Paris. She went to Rome—I having found a spy's position for her with a foreign government, where, as I learned later, she did some excellent work. My man from Brussels went with several bills to Legrange—demanded payment. Legrange asked for delay. "Heinrich" (princes, waiters and Secret Service men use only Christian names) brutally replied: "No delay whatever. On the other hand, I shall hand you these bills and give you a substantial sum if you will reply to some of my questions and do a few other little things for me." "What are they?" he asked. Heinrich bluntly told him. First, what proposals did Edward VII make to Alfonso XIII at Carthagena in April of this year; second, what proposals to Italy's king in the same month at Gaeta; third, reports and plans of joint Anglo-French military and naval commissions. That was all! Legrange was indignant, excited, threatening. Heinrich remained calm. Legrange threatened Heinrich with instant arrest. Indeed, he -reached for his telephone. Heinrich calmly stopped him. "I advise you, before you ring up the police, to ring up your mistress. You may have a surprise." The calmness, the deliberation with which Heinrich spoke made Legrange anxious. He looked bewildered at my agent. He feverishly rang up Celeste. No reply; he rang and rang. He then rang up the concierge. "Oh, yes! Madame left this morning with her maid and all her trunks. She said she will be back in three weeks." Legrange collapsed I He mumbled something hoarsely. Heinrich drove it home mercilessly. "Now have me arrested." Legrange sat there, his head buried in his hands—a wreck, his heart torn with rage, disappointment and betrayal. He begged to be left alone, but Heinrich pursued him remorselessly. "No, you will give me the information desired or I will have you arrested for what you have already disclosed to your mistress." As a matter of fact, Legrange did not disclose anything of importance to Celeste, but who remembers what one has said or done during a year! Besides, his state of mind was such that he really believed it himself. He saw himself the victim of a plot. He was frightened, excited, torn by anguish, shame, and distress; he was like a straw in the hands of Heinrich. "Monsieur Legrange, I now leave you; unless the desired information is in my hands the day after to-morrow at this address in Brussels you will be denounced. Don't try to escape. I shall have you shadowed. If you try to leave France, my agents—who will follow you like a Nemesis—will have you arrested. Bon soir!" I need not add that the desired information reached me in Brussels without delay. pps. 80-101 --[cont]-- Aloha, He'Ping, Om, Shalom, Salaam. Em Hotep, Peace Be, Omnia Bona Bonis, All My Relations. Adieu, Adios, Aloha. Amen. Roads End Kris DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance—not soapboxing! These are sordid matters and 'conspiracy theory', with its many half-truths, misdirections and outright frauds is used politically by different groups with major and minor effects spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought. That being said, CTRL gives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and always suggests to readers; be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no credeence to Holocaust denial and nazi's need not apply. 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