The 'Spy Nozy' Affair

Alfoxton House.

In early August 1797, a concerned resident wrote to the Home Office to report his fears about the new tenants at Alfoxton (Alfoxden) House, near the little village of Holford, Somerset. He believed that these incomers were actually French spies (especially as there had recently been an attempted invasion at Fishguard in Wales).

The new tenants were actually William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy. A couple of years earlier, they had set up their first real home together (a long-held dream) at Racedown Lodge, in Dorset. Then 1795, Wordsworth met Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and a famous literary friendship blossomed. The Wordsworths moved to Alfoxton House, not far from Coleridge’scottage at Nether Stowey. The two men, accompanied by Dorothy, went on long walks together over hill and dale, discussing poetry and philosophy long into the night. 

The Home Office spent special agent James Walsh to investigate. From his base at Nether Stowey, he discovered that one of the guests at Alfoxton was ‘Citizen’ John Thelwall, a noted Radical and Jacobin sympathiser he had been investigating for years.

William Wordsworth.

Next, he turned his attention to Coleridge, who was said to have his own printing press – perfect for publishing seditious literature. Coleridge and Wordsworth often rested and chatted on their favourite seat by the seashore at Kilve, discussing poetry and philosophy. The agent hid for hours, listening to their conversation. He was alarmed; the spies seem to know of his presence – they repeatedly talk about ‘Spy Nozy’. At last Walsh was convinced that Spy Nozy was ‘the name of a man (Spinoza) who had made a book, and lived a long time ago’. The Home Office had nothing to worry about.

Coleridge Cottage.

Were the Romantic poets really in danger of being imprisoned, maybe even executed? Coleridge, apprised of the tale from the pub landlord, had a wonderful after-dinner story to entertain his guests. Wordsworth treated the whole affair as a storm in a teacup, but the owner of Alfoxton, angered by rumours of Jacobins, gave him notice to quit soon after. Writer Thomas de Quincey later dismissed the ‘Spy Nozy’ story as a fable, and insisted Coleridge had been duped. 

But the Home Office files clearly show that the story was true – and that for a time at least, someone in the Government took the matter very seriously indeed…

 Images:

Alfoxden (Alfoxton) House, Somerset.  Dorothy and William lived here in 1797-8.  © Sue Wilkes.

Coleridge’s cottage at Nether Stowey. © Sue Wilkes.

Wordsworth. Engraving by the Brothers Dalziel for Poets of the Nineteenth Century, (Frederick Warne & Co., c.1870).

The Spymasters I

Sir Francis Walsingham

To understand how the spy system worked during the era of Regency Spies, we must look at the machinery of government.  Official government departments dealing with domestic and foreign affairs had existed for centuries; for example, Sir Francis Walsingham was famous for his role as chief spymaster in Elizabeth I's reign. 

However, in 1782 the Home Department (Home Office) and the Foreign Department (Foreign Office) were established in a form roughly equivalent to those existing today. George III had two principal secretaries in charge of government affairs: one for the Home Department, and one for the Foreign Department.

George III

The Home Secretary (as we would call him today) was responsible for maintaining law and order. Henry Dundas was Home Secretary in the early 1790s, followed by the 3rd Duke of Portland, who served under Prime Minister Pitt the Younger. 

Initially, the Home Department’s staff consisted of a principal secretary, two under-secretaries, eleven clerks, two chamber-keepers’ and one ‘necessary woman’ (maid or housekeeper).

After France declared war on Britain in 1793, and fears of an invasion grew, the British government adopted a more professional, centralized approach to intelligence-gathering. The Home Office initially took charge of the war effort. The following year, a War Department was founded and an additional Secretary of State appointed.

The Home Office also set up the Alien Office, which kept tabs on foreign visitors (especially suspected French spies) to Britain, and deported them if necessary. Formerly, secret service work was undertaken when needed by an obscure body known as the Foreign Letter Office.

Under the leadership of the redoubtable William Wickham and Charles William Flint, the Alien Office became the unofficial headquarters of the secret service and a central clearing house for intelligence on foreigners. Its premises were near the prime minister’s official residence in Downing Street, and its officials were primarily Oxford graduates. By 1816 the under-secretary of state at the Home Office had taken over the Alien Office’s duties.

Westminster from the roof of Whitehall, c.1807.

War with France increased the Home Office’s workload and it took on extra staff. The Home and Foreign Offices also shared staff such as messengers, translators, and two ‘decipherers’ or decoders. They had a very important task. Since the early eighteenth century, Secretaries of State had had powers to issue warrants to post-masters and post-office clerks to intercept, open and decipher the letters of suspect personages. In Ireland, the Lord Lieutenant issued warrants to detain the mail if necessary.

A warrant to open mail did not necessarily relate to just one person; several individuals could be named as persons of interest. Warrant could also be issued for all letters potentially relating to a particular offence, such as treason or sedition. This gave the authorities great scope for surveillance. 

All images from the author's collection.