“As the good relations of the two countries must rest upon a common regard for law and humanity, the government of the United States cannot be expected to do otherwise than to denounce the sinking of the Ancona as an illegal and indefensible act, and to demand that the officer who perpetrated the deed be punished, and that reparation by the payment of an indemnity be made for the citizens of the United States who were killed or injured by the attack on the vessel.”
This undiplomatic language caused no little resentment in Vienna. But after a restatement of the Austrian case, and a much milder rejoinder from Washington, the American demands were apparently acceded to. In the second Austro-Hungarian note, which was published in America on January 1st, 1915, the government of the Dual-Monarchy disavowed the act of its submarine commander, declared that he had acted in violation of his orders and would be punished therefore, and agreed to pay an indemnity for the American citizens who had been killed or injured.
“The Imperial and Royal Government,” the note continued, “agrees thoroughly with the American Cabinet that the sacred commandments of humanity must be observed also in war.... The Imperial and Royal Government can also substantially concur in the principle expressed ... that private ships, in so far as they do not attempt to escape or offer resistance, may not be destroyed without the persons aboard being brought into safety.”
Like the settlement of the Arabic case, this was hailed as a great diplomatic victory for the United States. Unlike it, there was no question of sharing the credit with the anti-submarine activities of the Allies, whose merchant ships in the Mediterranean were being torpedoed with startling frequency. On December 21st, the new 12,000 ton Japanese liner Yasaka Maru was sunk without warning, near Port Said. Thanks to the splendid discipline of her crew, no lives were lost. There was an alleged American on board, but there was some irregularity about his citizenship papers. Nor were there any Americans aboard the French passenger ship Ville de la Ciotat, torpedoed on Christmas Eve, with the loss of seventy lives. There was nothing to mar the smug satisfaction of the American people on New Year’s Day.
Then came the news of the sinking of the Peninsular and Oriental liner Persia, on December 30th, off the Island of Crete.
“I was in the dining room of the Persia at 1.05 P.M.,” declares Mr. Charles Grant of Boston, who was one of the two Americans on board. “I had just finished my soup, and the steward was asking me what I would take for my second course, when a terrific explosion occurred.
“The saloon became filled with smoke, broken glass and steam from the boiler, which appeared to have burst. There was no panic on board. We went on deck as though we were at drill, and reported at the lifeboats on the starboard side, as the vessel had listed to port....
“The last I saw of the Persia, she had her bow in the air, five minutes after the explosion....
“Robert McNeely, American Consul at Aden, sat at the same table with me on the voyage. He was not seen, probably because his cabin was on the port side.
“It was a horrible scene. The water was black as ink. Some passengers were screaming, others were calling out good-by. Those in one boat sang hymns.”