F or originally suggesting the study of British intelligence in the scramble for Africa I am grateful to Dr Colin Newbury of Linacre College, Oxford. The subject grew in many different directions and the number of people to which I am indebted is correspondingly large, indeed, more than I can name. My debt to them all is real and deep. I am particularly grateful to those whom I have dedicated this work. Likewise the staff of the then Public Record Office (now National Archives), especially Mr M. D. Lea, Ms Veronica Graham-Green and the redoubtable ladies who patiently provided me with an endless stream of dusty tomes from their subterranean mine and rejoiced, no doubt with relief, when we eventually stumbled upon the right seam. In my gratitude I gladly include the helpful staffs of the National Army Museum, Royal Commonwealth Library, English Heritage, the London Metropolitan Archives, Rhodes House of the Bodleian Library, the Royal United Services Institution, and the British Museum.
Justly deserving of inadequate thanks, too, are Dr D. W. King, OBE, FLA and Mr C. A. Potts, ALA and the hard-pressed staff of the Ministry of Defence Library (Central and Army). Despite severe organisational pressures at the time, of which I was then only dimly aware, they welcomed me, lent me an office overlooking Horse Guards and gave me free rein of what was then a most remarkable collection.
Likewise, my thanks go to Ms L. E. Forbes, ALA and Ms Clarice Bates of the Oriental Library, University of Durham, who cheerfully gave me every possible assistance with the Sudan Archive as did the Duchess of Devonshire, Major T. S. Wragg, MBE, TD and Mr Peter Day with the Hartington Collection at Chatsworth House. In Oxford, Mr J. Wing and the staff of Christ Church Library opened the Salisbury Collection to me without let or hindrance and in an act of remarkable generosity Mr J. Browning of Maggs Bros withdrew a collection of diaries from sale until I could examine them.
So, too, the early historians of the Intelligence Corps of the British Army deserve my gratitude: Colonel Brian Parritt, MBE, Lieutenant Colonel W. W. Leary, BEM, Major Jock Haswell and Mr H. A. Hunter who greeted me as a colleague and guest on several occasions. Colonels J. E. South and E. E. Peel, RE and the staff of the Royal Engineer Library kindly admitted me to their mess and most important library as did Major R. G. StG Bartelot, RA and the Royal Artillery Museum.
Without the material assistance of the trustees of the Beit Foundation through the award of the Beit Senior Scholarship in the university, progress on this work would have been much affected. I am grateful to them and for the very real help from the Sudanese scholar Professor Richard Hill, General Sir James Marshall-Cornwall, CBE, DSO, Kenneth and Lynn Cunningham, David and Grizelda Vermont, Richard and Tam Frost, Sir Ronald Wingate, CB, CMG, CIE, OBE and the many descendants of the men I studied whom I plagued for papers or information about their forebears.
In bringing this work to publication I am grateful for the encouragement of Lord Hennessy of Nympsfield, FBA; and of Michael Smith, the acknowledged doyen of later British intelligence history, and Sean Magee of Biteback Publishing, who from the first has given the author the most wise and valued encouragement. He and the dynamic Biteback team have been a delight to work with. My long-suffering family I also mention with thanks and end with the standard yet heart-felt declaration that whilst praise belongs to the named and unnamed above, any opprobrium for the inevitable errors and omissions I reserve for myself alone.
William Beaver
Wolfson College, Oxford
I n the mid-nineteenth century, the world was ripe to be possessed by the powerful. Russias steady subversion of Bulgar and Afghan alike, and her mysterious successes in the south, masked by distance and played over little-known lands, caused disquiet in London and blind worry in Calcutta. Later the threat would come from France, Germany, Portugal and even Italy, all passionate in their desire to expand into Africa. Behind every move was the threat of armed force against the most successful of colonial powers: Great Britain.
Yet Britain desired to live in a parallel universe of progress, freedom and peace. And, on the whole, this is the grand story of the second half of Victorias reign. But it could only exist in the world it wanted to live in if it listened for, absorbed and used to advantage intelligence about potential foes and their tricks, knavish or otherwise. Britain could never win at shadow boxing and its magnificent navy was, when all was said and done, of little use away from the waters edge. In more subtle ways, however, Britain could combat that which she could detect and the result was that for well over half a century Britain was not involved in nor suffered from either a great European or a great Asian war. Britain played her cards well because she sat facing the mirror.
But who sat facing the mirror? Britains diplomatic machinery was almost powerless to collect the right information, analyse it enough to turn it into intelligence or propose courses of action based on what it found in an increasingly complex world. To fill the vacuum, the governments of the day drew heavily on the experience and technical expertise of the little-known Intelligence Department (from 1888 the Intelligence Division) or ID of the War Office. In short, the ID was useful to the politicians and great offices of state because it replaced conjecture with studied analysis.
Initially, ministers and their officials came to rely on the Division because it was convenient. If they did not agree, they could dismiss the IDs opinions with a polite Read and noted. After all, it was but a separate, innocuous subunit which printed maps and dealt with strange places and even stranger people. From the beginning it was estranged from its notional overlords, the generals at Horse Guards, and on the surface carried no organisational clout. So, if they chose, the government could ignore the Division and its advice. But just the opposite happened and the young captains and majors with experience and expertise beyond their years wrote far-reaching memoranda which affected policy and the lives of millions. As the century drew to a close, an increasing number of Foreign, Colonial and Indian Office minutes ended with: Presume you have asked the ID? And back would come the answer: Done.