Stuart monarchs were repeatedly challenged by dangerous threats – a gunpowder plot, a civil war and political revolution. As a result, by the restoration of Charles II in 1660, the English government had come to rely on a shadowy trade of secrets for gathering domestic and international intelligence.
But with secrecy their modus operandi, how can modern-day historians identify these Stuart sleuths? A glance at the enormous record of archived correspondence of the British state reveals a good starting point for investigating the espionage trade. Hidden among these papers are small, but invaluable traces of agents, informants and spies.
By investigating the state papers, myself and other researchers have begun to slowly piece together evidence of a proactive network of spies whose task it was to assist in the gathering of intelligence.
Here are four networks of Stuart people who were involved in espionage – and what we know about them from these archives.
Nowhere else in Stuart England was there a better place for the business of espionage than the office of the secretary of state. “Secret” was literally in their title and these people managed countless tangled webs of decentralised intelligence networks.
The office emerged from informal councillor roles of the Elizabethan government. The Stuart monarchs usually appointed two secretaries of state for England, and after the Glorious Revolution of 1688, two for Scotland.
How the secretaries managed their spies was down to their own discretion. For instance, Sir William Trumbull (northern department, England, 1694-97) lazily preferred to consult his intelligence through one source – Richard Kingston, who playfully referred to himself in code as “Rich: Ville Roy”.
Meanwhile, James Johnston (west Scotland, 1692–96) preferred to consult several informants neatly embedded within the camps of his own rivals and in far-flung locations such as Flanders and Rome. He noted his preference “to trust not whoever there is no reason of distrust but wherever upon particular occasions trusting is of use”.
Johnston’s approach uncovered a French invasion fleet at the Hague in 1692. The subsequent battle prevented any further attempt to land on British soil.
Secretaries of state relied on the impetus of their overseas diplomats to provide accurate intelligence of foreign affairs and be proactive in curbing efforts to undermine the monarch in faraway lands.
In 1691, Sir Paul Rycaut (Hamburg, 1689–1700) reported the exciting capture of two spies, one French and one Swedish in Hamburg. He revealed that the two men were collaborating against England, but the civil senate were hesitant to “examine” or hand over the individuals into English custody, for fear of a public backlash.
It was not uncommon for diplomats to keep informal networks of informants and use professional agents to smuggle out secret reports. For its part, the English state diligently watched over foreign representatives on their shores. As the Dutch ambassador fearfully reported: “All our actions are spied … We cannot be certain of anything that we do, that it shall not either be known or miscarry.”
In the mind of the Stuart secretaries of state, the national post system which opened for public use in 1637, became one of the most reliable ways for catching the scent of deadly plots and duplicitous spies.
Under Oliver Cromwell, the Post Office was reinvented in 1657. It became the first British organisation to centrally assess letter post for useful intelligence. The leading minds of the restoration Samuel Morland, Issac Dorislaus and John Wallis rigorously copied, decoded and resealed mail in search of dissent.
Good spies were well aware of the danger associated with using the post. Even Johnston, as a Dutch spy, preferred the discretion of his reliable smuggler, Robert “little Robin” Murray to deliver secret intelligence of James II’s government to The Hague during the 1680s. So anxious was Johnston that Murray might get caught that he urged him to carry pistols for protection.
Embedded deep within the intelligence network of the secretary and diplomat lay the spy. These men and women who worked tirelessly, eavesdropping in taverns and coffeehouses and spying at great personal risk for and against the government. One spy for the Dutch, William Carstares, was caught in London several times and in 1683 was tortured to reveal his conspirators.
The lifespan of a spy’s career depended on how well they could convince their employer that their intelligence was the most authoritative. Most only lasted for a short time, some long enough to secure some profit, but very few made a successful career of it.
This was how Johnston made his name. In 1687 he discreetly passed on information about James II’s government to the Dutch. This service, as well as his ability to sound authoritative, quickly earned him promotion in the new government of William and Mary.
Stuart spies operated in a world of amateur surveillance. Today, centuries later, through small material traces of information exchange we are starting to piece together who these spies were.
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Joey Crozier does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
