Spying during the Napoleonic Wars - by Rosemary Hayes

 

Researching for my second book in the 'Soldier Spy' trilogy, it’s been quite a journey to learn about the extent of spying, on both sides, during the Napoleonic Wars. Not only at a diplomatic level, through overseas embassies and through the Alien Office, in London, and highly placed double agents, but there were networks of ordinary people who passed on maps and documents, letters, money and even arms.  Agents smuggled intelligence sewn into clothing or hidden in hollowed out walking sticks. Both sides employed complex codes and ciphers to protect their communications. Codebooks and cipher wheels were standard kit. One captured French codebook was worth its weight in gold to the British Intelligence Service. A British officer, George Scovell, a gifted linguist, famously cracked the French ‘Great Paris Cipher’ which was pivotal in the Peninsular War.

 

 

In Paris, there were underground networks of those spying for the British. Royalists, Bonapartist defectors and even double agents moved in secret, often under the noses of Joseph Fouché’s secret police (more of him later). Many were caught but a few key figures were never unmasked.

 

Both British and French agents used disguises, posing as merchants, priests, artists or diplomats. Some even used travelling theatre troupes as cover to move behind enemy lines. The more mundane the cover, the more convincing. Fishermen and smugglers took agents and documents to and fro across the Channel. One Jersey fisherman made nearly 200 trips across before he was caught and executed.

 

Women played an important role in Napoleonic espionage. Rachel Charlotte Biggs was an English writer and spy. Between 1802 and 1816, she repeatedly visited France and Napoleon controlled Europe. She corresponded with British politicians and reported her observations about military strength, industry and agriculture and the political state. Her extraordinary story is told in the novel ‘Georgian Heroine’. Another was a countess who allegedly passed secrets to the British via coded embroidery patterns. Femalespies came in many guises and used imaginative ways in which to move intelligence across borders, including hiding micro letters in hatpins! 

Fishermen’s wives and daughters also put themselves in danger by passing on information and giving shelter to royalist spies.

But among the many women spies, the one who really caught my attention was Arabella Williams, originally from Liverpool. Her handler was William Wickham. Wickham was a British diplomat who used his position in Bern as a cover to gather information and coordinate royalist organisations against France. Arabella became known as ‘le petit matelot’ – the little sailor – as she had acted as a courier passing papers between France and England for a number of years disguised as a sailor, without being caught. Arabella had her own property in France where she had lived for some years, which she also used as a safe house for other agents. One of her contacts was Abbé Ratel. Early in the war, Abbé Ratel organised a network of royalists to keep watch around the port of Boulogne and provide early warning of any invasion. Reports were sent to England through fishermen recruited by Ratel – who was reputed to have a very beautiful mistress.

Arabella was described as being petite, very pretty, lively and immensely busy. The group she belonged was extremely successful and despite the gendarmerie’s surveillance they managed to escape detection for many years. Sadly, I can find no portrait of Arabella though we do know that she was an English widow, the daughter of David Mallet, the poet and joint composer of ‘Rule Britannia’!

David Mallet

In France, all those spying for Britain or sympathetic to the royalist cause had to evade the clutches of Napoleon’s Minister of Police, the notorious Joseph Fouché. He was ruthless in his pursuit of British spies or those in France with royalist sympathies, torturing and executing them. He was dubbed ‘the most feared man in France’ and even Napoleon was quoted as saying ‘I fear Fouché more than all the armies of Europe’.

 

Fouché began his career as a maths teacher and evolved into a moderate and then radical legislator. He cultivated every political movement of the day. After preaching clemency for Louis XVI, Fouché voted to send the King to the guillotine. After writing "The first Communist Manifesto of Modern Times" he became a multi-millionaire. He led the brutal repression of an anti-revolutionary movement, earning him the nickname ‘The Butcher of Lyon’. After serving Robespierre, Fouché engineered his overthrow and rose to Minister of Police under the Directory, which he then helped to overthrow before putting his network of informants in Napoleon’s service. After turning against the Emperor, Fouché served the new King Louis XVIII – whose brother he had helped send to the guillotine. Thus, Fouché served the Revolution, the Directory, the First Empire and the Restoration. His face was said to resemble a weasel – and his less flattering portraits bear this out!

 

The threat from spies in France and those with royalist sympathies was very real. There were several attempts to assassinate Napoleon, the most famous being in Paris on the evening of December 24^th 1800. Almost certainly funded by the British, this very nearly succeeded when a cart exploded just after Napoleon’s carriage had passed, killing bystanders.

 

Malmaison, Empress Josephine’s country chateau, was the site of others, including the poisoned snuff put into a replica of Napoleon’s snuff box and placed on his desk there.

 

Although I have changed some of their dates and locations, many of the characters mentioned in my book ‘The King’s Agent’ are based on real people including ‘Le Petit Matelot’, Pipette, the fisherman’s wife, Abbé Ratel (disguised as Father Jacques) and, of course, the infamous Joseph Fouché.

 

‘The King’s Agent’ is the second novella in the ‘Soldier Spy’ trilogy, following the fortunes of the disgraced soldier, Captain Will Fraser and his wounded sergeant, Duncan Armstrong, recruited by the Alien Office to spy for King George’s government.

 

 

 

 

 

Garbo and the Swedish Queen by Elisabeth Storrs

The life of Greta Garbo, the Swedish-American actress, is a rags to riches story. Born in Stockholm in 1905 as Greta Gustafsson, she earned her living as a ‘lather girl’ in a barber shop before becoming a fashion model, and then an accomplished actress who graduated from the Royal Dramatic Training Academy.

‘Discovered’ in Sweden in 1925 by Louis B Maher, the famous chief executive of Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM), Greta came to Hollywood with frizzy hair, crooked teeth and no English. She was transformed into a stunning beauty known for her charisma and magnetism throughout the silent screen era then into the ‘talkies.’ Maher first marketed her as a vamp in a series of steamy movies. Her role in Flesh and the Devil catapulted her to box office stardom with her sizzling on screen chemistry (and off-screen romance) with her co-star, John Gilbert. Garbo later became famous for her melancholic portrayal of tragic characters such as the dying Camille or doomed Anna Karenina. She was praised for her subtle acting style where ‘worlds could turn on the movement of her eyes.’

Unable to speak fluent English during the silent era, she was reluctant to convert to sound films until she mastered the language. Her debut speaking role in Anna Christie, (1930) was billed with the tagline ‘Garbo talks’. Her famous first spoken line was ‘Gimme a whiskey, ginger ale on the side, and don’t be stingy, baby.’ The movie became the highest grossing film of the year and ‘Garbomania’ ensued. When she starred in Mata Hari, crowds were so rowdy that police reserves were called in to control the mob waiting outside the theatre. After appearing in the Oscar winning film Grand Hotel, Garbo was dubbed ‘the greatest moneymaking machine ever put on screen.’

In 1932, her contract with MGM expired and she returned to Sweden. However, she was lured back to Hollywood on the condition she could make a movie about the Swedish Queen Christina. The 1933 film was marketed with great fanfare as ‘Garbo Returns’. She earned a salary of $300,000 which equates to approximately 7 million today.

Queen Christina depicts the life of the unorthodox C17th Swedish queen who ascended to the throne at age 7 (although she wasn’t crowned until she turned 18). She was one of the most erudite women of her time, and has been described as the ‘Minerva of the North’ due to her strong support of arts and academics, the magnificent library she established, and her extensive art collection. Unfortunately, her extravagant lifestyle pushed the state to near bankruptcy and caused public unrest.

Her scandalous conversion to Catholicism, and refusal to marry, led to her abdication and move to Rome at age 29. Pope Alexander VII described Christina as ‘a queen without a realm, a Christian without faith, and a woman without shame.’

Christina’s father educated his daughter in the style of a prince. She wore men’s clothes and participated in fencing, horse-riding and bear hunting. She was said to be hirsute and masculine in features. Biographers vary in classing her as gay, bisexual, asexual or intersex. Christina herself wrote she was ‘neither Male nor Hermaphrodite, as some People in the World have pass'd me for.’ She was said to be romantically involved with women, in particular, Ebba Sparre. She maintained a close friendship with Cardinal Decio Azzolino (whom she made her heir) but it is doubtful theirs was a physical relationship.

Christina died at 62 having lived a life crammed with scandals, high culture and unconventional behaviour. However, the queen portrayed in Garbo’s movie was far removed from reality. The scriptwriters correctly portrayed Christina as being raised as a son who wore male clothes but the reason for her abdication is contrived. Her determination to remain celibate and convert to Catholicism is ignored. Instead, she leaves the throne for the love of a Spanish nobleman (played by John Gilbert). Garbo herself was troubled by the film’s historical inaccuracies and absurdities. She dreaded what her fellow Swedes would think. Nevertheless, the movie is famous for two scenes. The first incurred the ire of the censors as Garbo, dressed as a man, kisses Ebba. The other is the final sequence where Christina sails from Sweden to Spain after her lover has died. She stands stoically at the bow of the boat looking into the middle distance as though a living figurehead on a prow. The film became a box-office triumph and was the highest-grossing film of the year.

Garbo retired at 36 having made 28 films over 16 years. She was nominated three times for a best actress Oscar but never won. However, in 1954, she was awarded an Academy Honorary Award ‘for her luminous and unforgettable screen performances’. She failed to show up at the ceremony, and the statuette was mailed to her. The American Film Institute ranked her fifth on their list of greatest female stars in the classic golden years of cinema. In her personal life she appeared to suffer from depression and led a reclusive life. She also was said to be bisexual. Like Christina, she was an avid art collector. She is forever associated with the quote ‘I want to be alone’ when in fact she later clarified she said ‘I want to be let alone.’ She was denied her wish. To this day people rake over the details of her life, intrigued by one of the most iconic screen goddesses of the 20th century.

Elisabeth Storrs is the author of the A Tale of Ancient Rome series. Her latest release, is Fables & Lies: A World War II Novel about stolen treasure and the Aryan Myth. She is also the founder of the Historical Novel Society Australasia and the ARA Historical Novel Prize. Learn more at www.elisabethstorrs.com

Images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

War and Peace: the French and the Germans this time, by Leslie Wilson

Konrad Adenauer and Charles de Gaulle shake hands
in 1963. Photograph: Bundesarchiv,B 145 Bild-F015892-0010 / Ludwig Wegmann / CC-BY-SA 3.0 

The Regency dandy and Waterloo veteran, Captain Gronow, visiting Paris after the final downfall of Napoleon in 1815, wrote: 'The Duke of Wellington's conduct to the Parisians was kind and considerate…Blücher' (the Prussian general) was not so moderate in his conduct towards the French. His troops were billeted in every house; he obliged the inhabitants to feed and clothe them; and he issued an order.. commanding the authorities to supply each soldier with a bedstead containing a bolster, a woollen mattress, two new blankets, and a pair of linen sheets. The rations per day, for each man, were two pounds of bread of good quality, one pound of butcher's meat, a bottle of wine, a quarter of a pound of butter, ditto rice, a glass of brandy, and some tobacco.' The Prussian horses also received a liberal ration of oats, hay, and straw, all, of course, at the Parisians' expense, and another Prussian General took possession of Marshall Ney's house, together with his plate, carriages and horses. The Russians and Austrians, he noted, were similarly vindictive.

This shocked disapproval, from a francophile English gentleman, shows a marked lack of imagination; Prussians, the Russians, and the Austrians had endured years of occupation and invasion from French troops, which the British had not.

British accounts of recent history often talk as if Germany had only ever invaded France, rather than the other way round. Just going back as far as Louis the Fourteenth's time (though I could have gone back further); the War of Palatine Succession, which began in 1688, and was prosecuted in the interests of Louis's sister-in-law, the Duchess of Orléans, a great-granddaughter of James the First, and daughter of the Palatine Elector Charles (she was horrified by the invasion of her homeland), resulted in widespread destruction. Cities, towns and villages were razed to the ground and their inhabitants driven out to starve, crops destroyed. Destruction was a crucial war aim. Those picturesque ruined castles you can see from the Rhine steamers were knocked down then.

I often hear people say that Napoleon introduced liberal laws to Germany, and indeed, the emancipation of the Jews was clearly a step forward, but this was achieved at the cost of national humiliation. Napoleon put his puppet rulers in place of the German kings, princes and dukes, and introduced conscription. German young men were dragged from the plough and from their jobs and marched off to Russia, slaughtered at Borodino and froze to death alongside French conscripts on the disastrous retreat from Moscow.

Arc de Triomphe, commemorating
the soldiers who fought in the
French Revolutionary and Napoleonic
Wars, by Vassil, Wikimedia Commons.

As for the myth that Napoleon was a civilised conqueror; that may have been true for the upper classes, but in 1812, when the Grande Armée passed through Prussia on its way to Russia, 'Hans Jakob von Auerswald, provincial president of West and East Prussia, reported in April that the farm animals in East and West Prussia were dying of hunger, the roads were strewn with dead animals, and there was no seed corn left…It was said that those who still owned draft animals ploughed and sowed at night, so as not to see their last horse or ox carted off… there were numerous reports of excesses by the troops, especially extortion, plundering and beatings. One report from a senior official spoke of devastation 'even worse than in the Thirty Years' War.'

Taking this into account, the actions of the Prussians in 1815 are more comprehensible, as is also the 'Was für Plunder!' that Blücher is supposed to have exclaimed as he approached Paris as a conqueror. Also the song, 'Die Wacht am Rhein', (Guarding the Rhine) which is often evinced as proof of German expansionism, is about keeping the French aggressor out, he having been there too many times before.

It's a sorry story. France takes Alsace-Lorraine from Germany; Germany takes them back, by which time these provinces feel French, for all the Alsaciens still speak a recognisable (to me, since I visited the Rhineland so much as a little girl) form of Rhineland dialect. The Germans invade France in 1870 to 'settle them once and for all.' But no country ever is settled once and for all. In 1918 the French press for punitive terms in the Treaty of Versailles, and occupy the Rhineland (also with the intention of 'settling them once and for all). Hitler (the man whose territorial ambitions even outstripped Napoleon's) invades France in 1940, to wipe out 'the shame of Versailles', and marches his troops down the Champs-Elysées and under the Arc de Triomphe. Horrific crimes are committed in France (some of them, it must be said, by Pétain and his collaborationists, but it's the presence of the Nazi conquerors that facilitates the worst modern excesses of French antisemitism).

Only then, things change. Post-war - not immediately, the wounds are too raw - but eighteen years later, comes the Franco-German friendship pact. De Gaulle stands in front of City Hall, Bonn, waves his arms in the air and shouts in French and German: 'Long live the great German people!' This is De Gaulle, who has good reason to hate the Germans. 

Brandenburg Gate, a Peace Gate originally.
Napoleon marched his troops through it and
took the Quadriga (bronzes on top) away to Paris.
It was taken back in 1814. Photo: Norbert Aepli,
Wikimedia Commons.

For many reasons, not least the desire to create what is nowadays the European Union, the French and the Germans decide to heal the wounds of the past. German and French statesmen commemorate the victims of Verdun together. The German president, Joachim Gauck, and François Hollande, visit the town of Oradour together, the location of a horrific massacre by the SS in World War Two. Perhaps far more significantly, a Franco-German exchange programme was instituted in 1963, under whose auspices more than eight million young Germans and French people have visited each other's schools, homes, and countries. There are countless other initiatives.

Part of this process, as I said in my February blog, is the Dufours and the Bakers (Mrs Baker having been born German) forging a close and loving friendship, in spite of Marc Dufour having been in the Resistance during the war, and having seen the worst side of Germany. 

Dufours and Bakers having fun in the 60s.

Of course everything in the garden isn't totally rosy. On the other hand, I have never, in fifty-plus years of spending holidays in France (and I speak fluent French) had any unpleasantness from French people who knew I was half German, as opposed to in my own country. French people tend to remark that the war was a long time ago, and that the old enmities have nothing to do with the present generation. I know British people don't always have a positive view of what is sourly called 'The Axis', yet considering the importance of that 'inherited enmity' in the genesis of both World Wars, I am certain that the rapprochement has been a vital force for peace.

I've heard a lot of people, recently, saying that it's not the EU that's kept the peace in Europe since 1945, but NATO. This is the mantra that if you want peace, prepare for war. But the Germans and the French prepared for war for hundreds and years, and itgenerally led to war. The East-West stand-off and buildup of weapons almost led to accidental nuclear war in the '80s (when the Russians thought they saw nuclear-armed Cruise missiles coming over and were on the point of launching the SS20s in response).

I wonder why it should be so far-fetched to suggest that economic cooperation and international peace-making lead to peace? After all, people all over the world live at peace with one another far more often than they fight.

Compare this Franco-German friendship initiative, with Britain, where (sorry, I know I've said this before) too many of my fellow-countryfolk are still fighting World War Two in their heads. It's an important motif for the 'Out' campaign, isn't it? Once again, according to too many people, we have our backs to the wall, fighting a foreign invader who wants to straighten out bananas, take over our sovereignty, impose brutal measures on us (like maternity leave, environmental protection, inoculation of our hens against salmonella so we can safely eat soft-boiled eggs, inspection of pig carcases against roundworm, and waste recycling, so that our country doesn't become one massive landfill site). Behind the EU (according to this rhetoric) stands Nazism.

If only we could have instituted a similar programme, and encouraged Brits to travel to Germany and meet the ordinary people there (still very much a minority pursuit). Maybe there's still time to start?

Waterloo - Celia Rees

 Every History Girl posts on an allotted date. Mine is the 18th. I have to admit to having sometimes suffered from Date Envy. Other days are Special. New Year's Day, Christmas Day, Valentine's, Solstice, Equinoxes, the year is studded with Special Days. The 18th? Not very special at all. Nothing much to say. Except this day in this month of this year. 18th June, 2015 will mark the Bicentenary of the Battle of Waterloo. Commemorations have already started with the unveiling of a plaque at Waterloo Station.

There are plans afoot for a various events to take place on the site of the battlefield itself including, perhaps, a re-enactment of the charge of the Scots Greys immortalised in the painting Scotland Forever! by Lady Elizabeth Butler. I'd like to see that.

Scotland Forever! Lady Elizabeth Butler

The Battle of Waterloo brought to an end a war that had been going on for twenty years, a war begun in furious reaction to events in France. Initially, Austria, Prussia and Great Britain set out to crush the Revolution that so terrified them. They were joined by Russia, the Ottoman Empire, Portugal, the Papal States and sundry other nations but the French refused to be crushed. They defended their new state based on Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité. The Levée en masse, the mobilisation of the population, an army officer corps made up of youthful career soldiers under the ruthless leadership of a brilliant young Corsican enabled them to turn the tables on the formidable forces ranged against them. 

1796 Portrait of Napoleon at the Bridge of the Arcole by Baron Antoine-Jean Gros

Napoleon as a young officer

The French Revolutionary War turned into the Napoleonic Wars with armies ranging back and forth over the map of Europe. Such total war affected all the nations involved. In Britain, every city, every town, every village and hamlet was touched as more and more men were sucked away into the army and the navy. Even Jane Austen, not one for the bigger picture, has plenty of young officers to distract her more impressionable female characters, while the army and navy provided a convenient conduit for younger sons and impecunious brothers. In the first part of Thackeray's novel, Vanity Fair, most of the male characters are in the army and one of the great pivotal scenes is the ball before Waterloo. 

The war affected families from the highest to the lowest. There are many songs and ballads that vividly attest to the deep and far reaching effects of this long running war. The Eighteenth of June graphically describes the carnage of its final battle with generals and common soldiers lying equal in death. 

The valiant Duke of Brunswick fell in the field that day,

And many a gallant officer fell in the awful fray.

And many a British soldier lay wounded in their gore,

Upon the plains of Waterloo where the thundering cannons roar.

The Eighteenth of June

Ballads like The Plains of Waterloo tell piercingly poignant stories of the love and loss suffered by the women, the soldiers' sweethearts and wives, who were left behind.

"Farewell my comrades, likewise my sweetheart."

These were the very words he said and then he did depart.

They dug my love a silent grave, the tears they were not few.

And they laid him in the cold clay on the Plains of Waterloo.

Although he's gone and left me no other will I take.

Through lonesome woods and shady groves I wander for his sake.

Through lonesome woods and shady groves I'll wander through and through,

And I'll mourn for him that's dead upon the Plains of Waterloo.

Plains of Waterloo arr. Kate Rusby

the Field of Waterloo as it appeared the Morning after the Memorable Battle of 18th June, 1815

Waterloo might seem distant to us now but the forthcoming commemorations are a reminder of a war that reached into almost every household, that changed forever the nature of warfare itself, introduced the idea of 'total war' and made possible, if not probable, the kind of European war that had its centenary last year. 

Celia Rees

www.celiarees.com