HUGH MORRICE

Hugh Morrice is an agent for the British Secret Service.

Numerous times in the pages of this man's adventure, the organization for which he works is called just that, the Secret Service. [Note: A few times, though, a related name is used, one first used by another author a decade earlier, that of the Secret Service Fund. In Morrice's case, however, the latter title is more specifically used to describe the "bank" from which expense and bribe money is routinely drawn.]

Heading this powerful but highly clandestine organization is Sir Charles Houghton, a man for whom his agents have tremendous respect and admiration for it is said that Houghton had in his younger years been one of the first and best agents HMG had working for it. Morrice routinely calls his employer "the Chief".

Morrice is not, apparently, the real name of the agent but one chosen by him to disguise who he really is. Whether this alias is used just inside the pages of his records or the one he used in all his dealings is not revealed and truly is not important. Morrice is how we, the readers, know him.

He is described rather glowingly by the author, his friend, as "an accomplished linguist, a brilliant raconteur, a good all round sportsman, a polished diplomat, a born adventurer, a cosmopolitan of cosmopolitans, still under forty, and a friend of half a dozen reigning sovereigns, it was declared of him by the German Imperial Chancellor not long ago that he knew more of the Continent, and of the undercurrents of international politics, than any other living man. Many a time has secret information, supplied by him, turned the tide of political events in Great Britain's favour." Rather impressive praise all around.

Intrepid is a splendid word to also describe Morrice for he is willing to walk into any lion's den at a moment's notice but to give the man credit, he does not do so blindly or without a care. He honestly mentions more than once a chill down his spine or an uneasy feeling that draws fear into him but he steadfastly overcomes it to take on whatever adversary shows up.

Morrice is very much appreciative of the beauty of the opposite sex and he is definitely one who would never pat one on the head and tell her to leave this work to the men-folk. In far too many adventures of that era, a woman was either a dolt or a soon-to-be damsel-in-distress. In the missions of Morrice, far more women are as stalwart as he and even more dangerous. He has his life saved by at least one and has it put into dire danger by a couple. For all his attraction to women, though, we do not find any significant other in his life, though considering the fact that the man is constantly on the go, that is hardly surprising.

I have read several incredibly scathing reviews of the work of William Le Queux and, to be honest, I just do not get the vitriol.

Yes, the books are a tad over the top when it comes to the aggrandisement of the main character but then so many of the more modern books do pretty much the same thing. The key complaint I have heard, though, is that he was extremely bellicose in his screeching about the dangers from Germany. A couple of critics have shackled him with the "blame" for the existence of both MI5 and MI6 due to his sensational claims of authenticity for some of his books.

"Watch out for Germany!" he would cry in many, many of his publications. "Beware Austria-Hungary and their evil cousin, the Kaiser." A hundred years later and people still seem to exoriate him for his rabid conspiracy theories. And yet, reading these stories herein, I am conscious of the fact that the adventures that Morrice took part in, most of which were to try to keep the Kaiser's forces at bay, were published THREE YEARS before the start of World War I!!!

It is said that no man is a prophet in his own land. I would think, though, that after a century has passed and history proved him more right than wrong, critics might cut him a bit more slack.

By the way, the stories are a hoot to read. Just thought I would throw that in after my lengthy sermon.