NOTICE
Travelers intending to embark on the Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and her Allies and Great Britain and her Allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles; that in accordance with formal notice given by the German Imperial Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain or any of her Allies are liable to destruction in these waters and that travelers sailing in the war zone on ships of Great Britain or her Allies do so at their own risk.
Imperial German Embassy.
Washington, D. C., April 22d, 1915.
The newspaper advertisement inserted among
"ocean travel" advertising by the Im-
perial German Embassy prior to
the Lusitania's departure on
what proved to be her
last voyage
Germans in New York who knew of the plot dropped hints to their friends; anonymous warnings were received by several passengers who had booked their accommodations; Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt received such a message, signed "Morte." But such whispers were common, the Lusitania had outrun the submarines before and could presumably do it again; further, most Americans at that moment had some confidence left in civilization.
The plot was substantially this: when Captain Turner, on the last day of the voyage, should send his wireless query to the Admiralty, inquiring for his convoy of destroyers, a wireless reply in the British code directing his course must be sent to him from Sayville. His query would be heard and answered by the Admiralty, of course, but the genuine reply must not reach him.
Berlin assigned two submarines to a point ten miles south by west of the Old Head of Kinsale, near the entrance to St. George's Channel. She selected an experienced commander for the especial duty, and with him went a secret agent to shadow him as he opened his sealed instructions, and shoot him if he balked. And about the time when the U-boats slipped out of the Kiel Canal, and threaded their way through the mine-fields into the North Sea, submerging as they picked up the smoke of British ships on the western horizon, the Lusitania warped out of her pier in the Hudson River and set her prow for Sandy Hook, the Grand Banks, and Ireland.
She carried 1,254 passengers and a crew of eight hundred, a total of more than 2,000 souls, of whom 1,214 were sailing to their death. Germany had selected their graves; von Rintelen had two friends aboard who were detailed to flash lights from the portholes in case the ship made the submarine rendezvous at night. The Lusitania carried bombs which Dr. Karl Schimmel placed on board; she carried bombs which wretched little Klein placed on board; she carried, too, the creature who was to betray her. Her company was gay enough, and interesting; besides Mr. Vanderbilt her passenger list included Charles Frohman, the most important of theatrical managers; Elbert Hubbard, a quaint and lovable writer-artisan; Charles Klein, a playwright; Justus Miles Forman, a novelist; and numerous others of more or less celebrity, among them an actress who lived to reënact her part in the tragedy for the benefit of herself and a motion picture company. Ruthless as it was, the Lusitania also carried Lindon W. Bates, Jr., a youth whose family had befriended von Rintelen. And there were the women and children.