Never judge a spy by his cover
Harriet Waugh
NEVER JUDGE A MAN BY HIS UMBRELLA by Nicholas Elliott Michael Russell, f14.95, pp.201 Never Judge a Man by his Umbrella must be one of the rummest autobiographies ever to have appeared in England. Its author, Nicholas Elliott, is probably the best known spy in the country ever since both Philby and his third wife Eleanor wrote about him extensively in their own autobiographies. Does this most salient fact appear in the book? No. Nicholas Elliott joined something that he calls `government service' in 1939 and there he remained, serving away in Holland, Egypt, Switzer- land, Austria, the Lebanon and London until he left it in 1969. After that he joined Lonrho as a director until he was called 'the Harry Lime of Chcapside' by Tiny Rowland after an attempt to get Tiny thrown out as managing director of the company in 1973.
In consequence, this is a book in need of a decoder and there is no better place to start than its title. The full quotation on the title page is: 'Never judge a man by his umbrella. It may not he his.' (A notice in an Eton master's schoolroom). This could well he interpreted as `Do not judge this book by its contents.' The parallel life of Nicholas Elliott has yet to be told. Given this, there is much to amuse and entertain the reader. Nicholas Elliott starts by describing a major influence on his life, his father, Sir Claude Elliott. Sir Claude was headmaster of Eton while he was there in the early 1930s. Nicholas was an only child and they got on well.
He gives an affectionate picture of a formidable man who suffered fools badly and had robust views of the sort that 'all foreigners are bloody unless they climb mountains'. He was wise and hardy, and despite being comfortably married, had little time for women. By the time I met him as the school friend of Nicholas' daughter he was the Provost and appeared, although kindly, very tall and austere. It was after Nicholas came down from Cambridge and was offered the post of Honorary Attaché to the Minister at the Hague, now a defunct appointment, that his interest in intelligence and spying was awakened. In 1939 he accompanied the Assistant Naval Attaché in Berlin to the port of Hamburg, where they broke in after dark to investigate its pocket submarines. On the same expedition they also went to Berlin and watched a parade from the Military Attaché's house and seriously dis- cussed shooting Hitler, who was within rifle range. Career considerations won over valour, but there is an indication that it was the romance of these experiences that led him shortly afterwards to join `government service'.
During the war he was involved with counter-espionage in Egypt and Turkey and was chiefly responsible for the investi- gation of `Cicero', the British ambassador's valet who, it turned out, had been sending priceless information to Germany through judiciously photographing the ambas- sador's papers. It was also at this time that he met his wife, Elizabeth Holberton. They were married in Istanbul by the future Pope John XXIII, whose sympathy with the allied cause made him a useful contact. Altogether, he gives a fascinating picture of the Hague during the lead up to war, and of Cairo, Istanbul and Ankara throughout it. The last two cities were filled with foreign nationals, plus assorted press, all busily spying on each other and snaffling up the local Mata Haris for bedtime intelli- gence. Post-war, he becomes more discreet. `Government service' took Elliott to Switzerland, Austria and the Lebanon. He gives what must now, sadly, be considered a historic picture of Beirut before it was turned into a battlefield.
Perhaps the most interesting chapter is on Philby as a domestic man. The Elliotts were personal friends of both Philby and his second and third wives, Aileen and Eleanor. Nicholas considers that Philby's marriage to Aileen foundered when he dis- covered she had been living (because of an unhappy psychiatric condition) a bizarrely duplicitous life with him that could he said to rival his own with her. He felt humiliat- ed. What Elliott fails to mention is that he was the man sent out to Beirut to make Philby finally admit to his treachery. Over a number of meetings Philby started talking, at which point Elliott turned him over to the head of station to continue the debrief- ing, as he had to go to Africa. While Elliott was there, Philby did his flit, possibly because he thought that once he had start- ed talking he might not be able to stop.
'Fogel it. He's a Mirror pensioner.' Beneath this bonhomous account of life lived mainly abroad, in which much good wine was drunk and a good many jokes exchanged among a curious fellowship of dubious romantics, there is a more complex story to be told. But for this we shall proba- bly have to await Nicholas Elliott's death, when someone will undoubtedly write his biography.
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