The “Saxonia,” camouflaged, leaving New York with American troops for Europe
Such is the story of the greatest maritime crime in history and, now that the war is over, it is well that it should not be forgotten, with its record of heroism and self-sacrifice, of competent seamanship and resourceful initiative, of suffering and death. Lord Mersey’s report on the disaster, after he had heard a mass of evidence from officers and men, as well as from surviving passengers, is a document which after generations will read with pride. It contains not the personal opinion merely of a former President of the Probate, Divorce and Admiralty Division of the High Court of Justice, but is a considered judgment in which Admiral Sir F. S. Inglefield and Lieutenant Commander Hearn, both officers of the Royal Navy, and Captain D. Davies and Captain J. Spedding, of the Merchant Service, acting as the four assessors, concurred. The report contained a short, but consolatory statement of the competency with which the sudden emergency was confronted when the ship was attacked. “The Captain was on the bridge at the time his ship was struck,” Lord Mersey recorded, “and he remained there giving orders until the ship foundered. His first order was to lower all the boats to the rail. This order was obeyed as far as it possibly could be. He then called out ‘Women and children first.’ The order was then given to hard-a-starboard the helm with a view to heading towards the land, and orders were telegraphed to the engine-room. The orders given to the engine-room are difficult to follow and there is obvious confusion about them. It is not, however, important to consider them, for the engines were put out of commission almost at once by the inrush of water and ceased working, and the lights in the engine-room were blown out. Leith, the Marconi operator, immediately sent out an S.O.S. signal, and, later on, another message, ‘Come at once, big list, 10 miles south Head Old Kinsale.’ These messages were repeated continually and were acknowledged. At first, the messages were sent out by the power supplied from the ship’s dynamo; but in three or four minutes this power gave out and the messages were sent out by means of the emergency apparatus in the wireless cabin.”
Welcoming the first contingent of returning American troops, New York, December, 1918
The “Mauretania” arriving at New York, December, 1918
Was the Lusitania well found? Did she comply with the requirements of the Merchant Shipping Acts? Was she armed? Did she carry war material? Was the conduct of the Captains, officers and men consistent with the high traditions of the Merchant Service? To all these questions the report furnished satisfactory answers. The ship was well provided with boats, which were in good order at the moment of the explosion, and “the launching was carried out as well as the short time, the moving ship, and the serious list would allow.” Lord Mersey added that he found that the conduct of the masters—for as already stated there were two—the officers and the crew was satisfactory. “They did their best in difficult and perilous circumstances, and their best was good.”
And what of Captain Turner, upon whom the chief responsibility for the safety of the ship and the lives of passengers and crew mainly rested? He remained upon the bridge until the very last. He went down with the unhappy vessel and was only rescued by chance after having been in the water for three long hours. The Wreck Commissioner and the Assessors examined his every act from the moment when the Lusitania entered the so-called “war zone” until this devoted officer found himself in the water confronted with death. In the opinion of Lord Mersey, Captain Turner “exercised his judgment for the best,” and the report added that “it was the judgment of a skilled and experienced man.” Captain Anderson, whose duty it was to assist in the care and navigation of the ship was, unfortunately, one of the victims of this German crime, but in Lord Mersey’s own words, “the two captains and the officers were competent men and they did their duty”—and higher praise than that there could not be.
“The whole blame for the cruel destruction of life in this catastrophe must rest solely with those who plotted and with those who committed the crime.” The disaster was regarded in all civilised countries with horror. As Mr. Roosevelt said at the time, it represented “not merely piracy, but piracy on a vaster scale of murder than any old-time pirate ever practised,” and a Danish paper, in recording this terrible incident in the war, declared that “whenever in future the Germans venture to speak of their culture the answer will be ‘It does not exist: it committed suicide on May 7th, 1915.’” A Norwegian paper in denouncing the crime remarked that “the whole world looks with horror and detestation on the event.” In fact, throughout the whole civilised world the sinking of the Lusitania with merciless disregard for the lives of those on board, was condemned as an act of wholesale murder which, as the New York American added “violates all laws of common humanity.”