Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 62, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 March 1912 — SPY’S DARING ESCAPE from GERMAN PRISON [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

SPY’S DARING ESCAPE from GERMAN PRISON

UTRANKING the real adventures of Latude, the famous prisoner of the Bastile, or the fictitious escapade of the count of Monte Cristo, was the sensational escape from the German citadel at Glatz of Captain Lux, a French officer who was serving a term of six years imprisonment on a charge of espionage. How Captain Lux outdid these two heroes of fact and fiction Is best seen from his own simple account of his flight "In all the six months 1 was at Glatz," he said, "1 never got a glimpse of my

prison from the outside. I was constantly and closely guarded. All day long I was rigorously constrained to keep my room save that from 10 a. m. till noon and from 2:15 till 4:15 I was suffered to. walk about the Interior of the fortress and talk to my fellow-prisoners, while for an hour morning and evening an officer took me for a walk on the rampart to enjoy the fresh air blowing on the height “Well, I was bored, and I wrote to this effect to my people who communicated with my excellent friends. Never shall I forget the warm thrill I, had when I got the first communication telling me that my friends were busy on my behalf. “The surveillance was very strict AH my letters were opened and read, those I received as well as those f wrote. My books and newspapers were likewiseopened and anything of a seditious nature was taken away. Often when my luncheon or dinner arrived t found the rolls had been cut into slices In case they might contain a file, and on some occasions even the fruit was sectioned by way of precaution. "My friends had therefore to communicate with me in secret, and this they accomplished by the old trick of Invisible ink. I used to have my letters handed to me with the seal of the envelope open, and the letters themselves contained nothing calculated to arouse alarm. “But as soon as my warden had left me I used to ungum carefully the flaps of the envelope and hold the inner side to the bars of z the great white-tiled stove standing in the room. Then as the paper crackled and contracted a line or two of writing would appear telling me how the plan progressed and what my part was to be. “I, too, was able to communicate with my friends In this way, but how I managed it is still a secret. I let them know that what I must have above all things else was money and some tools for removing certain obstacles I had noted as being likely to Impede my progress when the moment of my escape arrived Once out of my cell, I should have to open two locked doors and then get through a windowprotected by a stout iron bar solidly wedged In masonry. “From the window there was a drop which was not too dangerous to jump, perhaps, but the noise I should have made in alighting on the flagged courtyard beneath would certainly have been heard by the. sentries, so I had to have, material to. “take a rope “All these observations I passed on to my devoted friends, very discreetly and at rare intervals. "Every day I received from Paris a large parcel of newspapers and magazines. These were opened in the governor’s quarters and then sent’ in to me after they had been roughly tied up again with the cord fastening them. It was this cord which attracted my attention. It was not the ordinary scrap or end of string with which such rolls of newspapers are generally fastened, but nice, new string, evidently taken off a fresh ball. I examined it carefully and my heart gave a great leap. The cord was waxed! , “Every day brought Its packet of papers or reviews wound up with the same strong twine, and one day I found under the flap of an envelope a bill just a line to this effect, ‘Gardez ficelle!’ (Keep string.) "The next indication I had was the word •Rellure,’ (binding) which had been written In Invisible Ink In the envelope of a letter from home. Ever since my arrival at Glatz I had received parcels of books from Paris once or twice a week, and this single word at once suggested to me what was meant My books were to bring me something, too. "One, two, three days passed, and on the fourth my warder brought me a box of books. There were several mathematical treatises, for being in the engineers, mathematics have always been a strong point with me, some yellow paper-bound novels.and two or three ponderous tomes of history. “They were Frederic Masson’s works on the great Napoleqn, a favorite hobby of mine. There was ‘Josephine Imperative et Heine’ and ‘Josephine Repudlee* and one or two others. With my penknife ! slit open the hacks of the paper-bound novels—nothing! Then the mathematical books —same result! Mas-

son on the Empress Josephine—also nothing! What did It mean? “Then as I put ‘Josephine Pepudlee’ disconsolatetly back on the table something jingled on the floor. I stooped and picked it up. It was a German mark. I seized the book again my penknife had made Its first Incision I saw the edge of another silver piece protruding. "Frantically I tore the cover off and behold, betwen the outer and Inner covering were twenty marks In silver. Looking again at the other Masson volume I found gummed between two sheets of cardboard two exquisitely finished files, 'made of the finest steel and shaped flat so as to fit exactly In the space between the coverings of the book. "After that my reputation as a’ student was established in the citadel of Glats. Every moment I could spare from my reconnoitering walks I spent at my table, poring over thei books which now arrived regularly every five or six days. "In order to allay suspicion I applied for gum and brushes and amused myself by binding nearly all the paper books In my little prison library in clean blue paper so that my operations with the penknife on the weekly consignments of books might give the Impression that I was merely preparing thefli for rebinding. "The authorities were quite touched by the solicitude of my family. * *What a good friend your brother is to you,’ a German prisoner said to me one day on hearing I had received a present of a splendid box of chalks. He little knew that these colored pencils contained not chalk, but each a precious impfement to help me in my escape. I had a Sandow exerciser sent me one day. One of the grips was destined, I knew, to form the handle of a saw which was contained In one of my chalks, the saw Itself fitting Into a harmless-looking ruler which my thoughtful brother had sent to me

to assist me in my mathematical calculations. "Then there was the beautiful bath towel, a great big one, made of the solldeSt linen fibre. The authorities thought this was for use after my dally tub. In reality I had to warn my friends that the parcel cord was hardly enough for my purpose and I might have to supplementit “Just before Christmas I received a reasonable present from an old schoolfellow of mine in the shape of a calendar. How I longed for its arrival, for I had been warned that it would contain a German general staff map' of the environs of Glatz showing the way to the Austrian frontier, which was oply twelve miles distant “We had determined that the best time for the attempt would be Christmas, when discipline, was rather relaxed at the citadel and many of the prisoners away on parole. “But I was not certain what day I could best slip away, so, in the event of not being able to depend on the friendly automobile, I had supplied myself with a complete disguise. Pleading the wet weather, I had obtained permission for a mackintosh to be sent up to the citadel from the town on the grounds that whether it rained or not I could not forego my daily walk on the ramparts. I also got a gray alpaca cap of the kind that German men are in toe habit of donning when in railroad cars. With a pair of gold-rlmmed spectacles, which I had already, my disguise was complete. “On the morning of Christmas eve I knew that everything was ready. I had learned that the fortress authorities were giving a Christmas tree to the military warders ip the afternoon, and this wls the moment I had chosen for my attempt . "I came in from my walk at 4:15, and presently I heard the distant echo of foodsteps as the prison staff trooped along the passages to the room where the Christmas party was being held. "With my mackintosh over my arm concealing my rope ladder, niy saw and flies in my pocket, and my money in my purse, I gently opened the door of my cell.'' Not a sound. The time had come. “I came to the door at the end of the pas-

sage and picked the lock 'in a hand’s shake. I knew that yet another door was before me before I got to my window and that the lock might give me more trouble. It did, and I had to work hard to get that door open, I was perspiring freely as I passed through it and came beneath the window giving access to the fortress garden, which had yet to be traversed. “One’s troubles only begin with a file, and more than once while engaged on that solid iron bar I despaired of overcoming this obstacle. For four mortal hours I sawed away, the perspiration pouring down my face. I had to stop every minute to listen if any one were coming, but all remained still. ~ “When I look back on those four hours behind that grated window I don’t know how I held out, and I can hardly recall how I got through and let myself down the sixteen feet separating me from the ground. All I know is that I left a stump of bar on which I had fixed my ladder, and a minute later I sprang noiselessly to earth. "Here I found myself in some gardens which I crossed stealthily. I knew what was to come. My objective was a high iron gate surmounted by a gas lamp, where I knew a sentry would be posted. Once past this danger point and I was free—of the citadel at least For the gate gave on to the roadway. "Stealing cautiously over the ground and picking my way I came to the high fortress wall. Step by step I sidled along that wall until I reached the .gate. I scaled it and looking over the top saw in the road immediately beneath me the spike of the sentry’s helmet flashing in the rays of the gas lamp. "If the man had been prompted to look up he would have seen me in that Instant and I should have been But he was just on the turn. With his great-coat collar turned up to his ears and his rifle firmly grasped in his mlttened hand he turned and tramped, stamping, back to his sentry box, which he passed and then returned in my direction. "I ducked my head. When he turned his back on me again I would make a dash for it. From behind the gate I heard the heavy tramp cease an instant and then recommence. Then I raised my head. I was full tn the glare of the lamp. Jt was now-or never, so getting both legs over the top of the gate I let myself fall lightly to earth. "I found myself within a few yards of the sentry and opposite a kind of timber shelter on the other side of the road. In a moment the sentry would turn again, so I leaped on tiptoe like a flash for the shelter. After waiting a few seconds I walked boldly out, disregarding the sentry, down the road to the station.” This is where Captain Lux’s story ends. He will say no more for fear of causing unpleasantness to any one of those who helped him in his marvelous escape. • This extraordinary Monte Cristo up to date just walked into the station of Glatz and boarded the Austrian express. When the conductor came for the tickets the muffied-up German gentleman with the gold-rimmed glasses and the green overcoat explained he had run a little short of money, but would pay his ticket to the frontier station of Mittelwalde in Austria. Here he was handed over to the stationmaster, to whom he frankly explained his case, revealing his idenity with a calmness which stupefied that gold-laced functionary. Very politely the captain asked for permission to use the station telegraph to wire his friends in Budapest for money. Permission was granted, for, as a political prisoner, the captain was immune from extradition proceedings, and in a few hours the money was forthcoming for the captain by telegraph. And then, a free man once more, he took train for Paris, having wired his friends the news of his successful escape by means of a telegram signed “Karl Noel.”