RMS Lusitania was a British-registered ocean liner that was torpedoed by an Imperial German Navy U-boat during the First World War on 7 May 1915, about 11 nautical miles (20 kilometres; 13 miles) off the Old Head of Kinsale, Ireland (then part of the United Kingdom). The attack took place in the declared maritime war-zone around the United Kingdom, three months after unrestricted submarine warfare against the ships of the United Kingdom had been announced by Germany following the Allied powers' implementation of a naval blockade against it and the other Central Powers. The passengers had been notified before departing New York of the general danger of voyaging into the area in a British ship, but the attack itself came without warning. From a submerged position 700 metres (2,300 ft) to starboard, U-20 commanded by Kapitänleutnant Walther Schwieger launched a single torpedo at the Cunard liner. After the torpedo struck, a second explosion occurred inside the ship, which then sank in only 18 minutes. U-20's mission was to torpedo warships and liners in Lusitania's area of operation. In the end, there were only 763 survivors (39%) out of the 1,960 passengers, crew and stowaways aboard, and about 128 of the dead were American citizens. The sinking turned public opinion in many countries against Germany. It also contributed to the American entry into the war almost two years later, on 6 April 1917; images of the stricken liner were used heavily in US propaganda and military recruiting campaigns. The contemporary investigations in both the United Kingdom, including a wreck commission called by the Board of Trade, and the United States into the precise causes of the ship's loss were obstructed by the needs of wartime secrecy and a propaganda campaign to ensure all blame fell upon Germany. At the time of her sinking, the primarily passenger-carrying vessel had in her hold around 173 tons of war supplies, comprising 4.2 million rounds of rifle ammunition, almost 5,000 shrapnel-filled artillery shell casings and 3,240 brass percussion fuses. Debates on the legitimacy of the way she was sunk raged back and forth throughout the war and beyond. Some writers argue that the British government, with Winston Churchill's involvement, deliberately put the Lusitania at risk to provoke a German attack and draw the United States into the war. This theory is generally rejected by mainstream historians, who characterise the sinking as mainly a combination of British mistakes and misfortune, with claims to the contrary characterized by implausible theories, lack of evidence, and in some cases fabricated sources.
Background
When Lusitania was built, her construction and operating expenses were subsidized by the British government, with the provision that she could be converted to an armed merchant cruiser (AMC) if need be. Pillars and supports were included in her design to allow the emplacement of 12 6-inch guns, and she was listed as a "Royal Naval Reserve Merchant Vessel". In the 1914 edition of Jane's All the World's Fighting Ships, its silhouette was listed for identification reasons as a civilian liner, together with Mauretania and all liners of all nations capable of over 18 knots. Brassey's 1914 The Naval Annual categorised her as a "Royal Naval Reserved Merchant Cruiser". At the outbreak of the First World War, the British Admiralty considered her for requisition as an AMC. However the Admiralty then cancelled their decision and decided not to use her as an AMC after all; large liners such as Lusitania consumed enormous quantities of coal (910 tons/day, or 37.6 tons/hour) and became a serious drain on the Admiralty's fuel reserves, so express liners were deemed inappropriate for the role when smaller cruisers would do. They were also very distinctive, so smaller liners were used as transports instead. At the outbreak of hostilities, fears for the safety of Lusitania and other great liners ran high. During the ship's first wartime eastbound crossing, she was painted a flat grey to mask her identity and make her more difficult to detect visually. When it turned out that the German Navy was kept in check by the Royal Navy, and their commerce threat almost entirely evaporated, it very soon appeared that the Atlantic was safe for large passenger liners like Lusitania, if the bookings justified the expense of keeping them in service. Many of the large liners were laid up over the autumn and winter of 1914–1915, in part due to falling demand for passenger travel across the Atlantic, and in part to protect them from naval mines or other dangers. Among the most recognizable of these liners, some were eventually used as troop transports or hospital ships. Although bookings were by no means strong during that autumn and winter of 1914–15, demand was sufficient to keep her in civilian service. Economizing measures were taken, however. One of these was the shutting down of her No. 4 boiler room to conserve coal and crew costs; this reduced her maximum speed from over 25 to 21 knots (46 to 39 km/h; 29 to 24 mph). Even so, she was the fastest first-class passenger liner left in commercial service. With apparent dangers evaporating, the ship's disguised paint scheme was also dropped and she was returned to her civilian colours. Her name was picked out in gilt, her funnels repainted in their usual Cunard livery, and her superstructure painted white again. One alteration was the addition of a bronze/gold coloured band around the base of the superstructure just above the black paint.
1915
The British established a naval blockade of Germany on the outbreak of war in August 1914, issuing a comprehensive list of contraband that grew to include even foodstuffs. In early November 1914 Britain declared the North Sea to be a "military area", with any ships entering the North Sea doing so at their own risk unless they obeyed specific Royal Navy instructions.
By early 1915, a new threat to British shipping began to materialise: U-boats (submarines). At first, the Germans used them only to attack naval vessels, achieving only occasional—but sometimes spectacular—success. U-boats then began to attack merchant vessels at times, although almost always in accordance with the old cruiser rules. Desperate to gain an advantage on the Atlantic and define a role for the Navy, and heavily overestimating the effectiveness of the new weapon, the Admiralty under Hugo von Pohl decided to step up its submarine campaign. On 4 February 1915, he declared the seas around the British Isles a war zone: from 18 February, Allied ships in the area could be sunk without warning. This was not wholly unrestricted submarine warfare, since efforts would be taken to avoid sinking neutral ships. However, the German Imperial Admiralty Staff secretly directed captains to target passenger craft, as it was thought that this would deter other shipping. As Germany started the campaign with only 21 submarines, many of which were not operational, many did not take the threat seriously. The US government warned the Germans that they would face "strict accountability" for any American deaths as a result of the campaign. The reaction to the announcement by those on the Lusitania was characterised by confusion. At sea en route to Liverpool at the time of the announcement, American passengers urged Captain Daniel Dow to fly the US flag to dissuade attack. This led to a storm of controversy from the American authorities and Germany. On her next voyage, Lusitania was scheduled to arrive in Liverpool on 6 March 1915. The Admiralty issued her specific instructions on how to avoid submarines. Despite a severe shortage of destroyers, Admiral Henry Oliver ordered HMS Louis and Laverock to escort Lusitania, and took the further precaution of sending the Q ship Lyons to patrol Liverpool Bay. One of the destroyers' commanders attempted to discover the whereabouts of Lusitania by telephoning Cunard, who refused to give out any information and referred him to the Admiralty. At sea, the ships contacted Lusitania by radio, but did not have the codes used to communicate with merchant ships and thus communicated in the clear; as doing this would put his ship under substantial risk, Captain Dow gave a false position, significantly far away from his actual position, leaving the warships unable to locate him. The Lusitania continued to Liverpool unescorted. Some alterations were made to Lusitania and her operation in view of the threat. She was ordered not to fly any flags in the war zone; a number of warnings, plus advice, were sent to the ship's commander to help him decide how to best protect his ship against the new threat and it also seems that her funnels were most likely painted a dark grey to help make her less visible to enemy submarines. There was no hope of disguising her actual identity, since her profile was so well known, and no attempt was made to paint out the ship's name at the prow. Unknown to all, the submarine war was about to get more dangerous. On 28 March, during the Thrasher incident, a German submarine stopped the British passenger ship Falaba on the surface. Eyewitnesses reported the submarine gave the ship only around ten minutes to evacuate before torpedoing the vessel, resulting in the first American death of the war. On 1 April, Admiral Gustav Bachmann, head of the German Admiralty Staff, sent a memo to Kaiser Wilhelm II. This detailed the woefully small number of ships sunk so far, and Bachmann argued this showed that the submarine war could only really be effective if U-boats were completely unrestricted, and so could attack without determining the identity and nationality of ships. With the encouragement of Tirpitz, the Kaiser sent out secret instructions on 2 April to discourage the common tactic of surfacing to attack vessels and emphasized the danger of doing so. This created what historian Arthur Link terms "an operational twilight zone" in which mistakes would be more easily made. There was no improvement in the number of ships sunk following this instruction, but 6 out of the 17 vessels sunk in April were neutral. The Germans convinced themselves that Americans were toothless. "The policy of the American Government is dominated by the one thought of not becoming involved in any complications whatsoever. 'We want to stay out of everything' is the single rule." In late April/early May there were German attacks on two additional American vessels, Cushing and Gulflight, the former (29 April) an air attack that caused no loss of life, and the latter (1 May) a submarine attack on a tanker where three died. President Woodrow Wilson had not made a formal response to any of these incidents before events overtook him. Captain Dow, apparently stressed by operating in the war zone, left the ship; Cunard later explained that he was "tired and really ill." He was replaced with a new commander, Captain William Thomas Turner, who had commanded Lusitania, Mauretania, and Aquitania before the war. On 17 April 1915, Lusitania left Liverpool on her 201st transatlantic voyage, arriving at New York on 24 April.
In mid-April, German ambassador Johann Heinrich von Bernstorff, who had long had concerns about the legality of the February submarine campaign, and believing the Americans to be underestimating the dangers, consulted a group of representatives of other German administrative departments. He decided to issue a general warning to the American press. This notice was to appear in 50 American newspapers, including those in New York:
Notice! Travellers 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 Imperial German Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain, or any of her allies, are liable to destruction in those waters and that travellers sailing in the war zone on the ships of Great Britain or her allies do so at their own risk. Imperial German Embassy Washington, D.C. 22 April 1915
The notice was intended to appear on the Saturdays of 24 April, 1 May, and 8 May, but due to technical difficulties did not appear until 30 April, the day before Lusitania sailed, appearing in some cases adjacent to an advertisement for the return voyage. The juxtaposition was a coincidence, but the warning led to some agitation in the press, annoyance from the American government, and worried the ship's passengers and crew.
Final voyage
Departure
While many British passenger ships had been called into duty for the war effort, Lusitania remained on her regular route between Liverpool and New York City. Captain Turner, known as "Bowler Bill" for his favourite shoreside headgear, tried to calm the passengers by explaining that the ship's speed made her safe from attack by submarine. Even at her reduced speed, the ship far exceeded the speed of a U-boat (16 knots, 30 km/h, 18 mph on the surface, 9 knots, 17 km/h, 10 mph submerged), requiring the ship to pass extremely near a waiting submarine to be attacked.
Departure out of New York on the return voyage to Liverpool was at noon on 1 May, two hours behind schedule, because of a last-minute transfer of forty-one passengers and crew from the recently requisitioned Cameronia. Shortly after departure three German-speaking men were found on board hiding in a steward's pantry. Detective Inspector William Pierpoint of the Liverpool police, who was travelling in the guise of a first-class passenger, interrogated them before locking them in the cells for further questioning when the ship reached Liverpool. Also among the crew was an Englishman, Neal Leach, who had been working as a tutor in Germany before the war. Leach had been interned but later released by Germany. The German embassy in Washington was notified about Leach's arrival in the United States, where he met known German agents. Leach and the three German stowaways went down with the ship. They were found with photographic equipment and thus probably had been tasked with spying on the ship. Most probably, Pierpoint, who survived the sinking, would already have been informed about Leach. Thus, when Lusitania left Pier 54, she had 1,960 people aboard. In addition to her crew of 693 and 3 stowaways, she carried 1,264 passengers, mostly British nationals as well as a large number of Canadians, along with 159 Americans. 124 of the passengers were children. Her First Class accommodations, for which she was well regarded on the North Atlantic run, were booked at just over half capacity at 290. Second Class was severely overbooked with 601 passengers, far exceeding the maximum capacity of 460. While a large number of small children and infants helped reduce the squeeze into the limited number of two- and four-berth cabins, the situation was rectified by allowing some Second Class passengers to occupy empty First Class cabins. In Third Class, the situation was considered to be the norm for an eastbound crossing, with only 370 travelling in accommodations designed for 1,186.
Submarine activity
As the liner steamed across the ocean, the British Admiralty had been tracking the movements of U-20, commanded by Kapitänleutnant Walther Schwieger, through wireless intercepts and radio direction finding. The submarine left Borkum on 30 April, heading north-west across the North Sea. On 2 May, she had reached Peterhead and proceeded around the north of Scotland and Ireland, and then along the western and southern coasts of Ireland, to enter the Irish Sea from the south. Although the submarine's departure, destination, and expected arrival time were known to Room 40 in the Admiralty, the activities of the decoding department were considered so secret that they were unknown even to the normal intelligence division which tracked enemy ships or to the trade division responsible for warning merchant vessels. Only the very highest officers in the Admiralty saw the information and passed on warnings only when they felt it essential. On 27 March, Room 40 had intercepted a message which clearly demonstrated that the Germans had broken the code used to pass messages to British merchant ships. Cruisers protecting merchant ships were warned not to use the code to give directions to shipping because it could just as easily attract enemy submarines as steering ships away from them. However, Queenstown was not given this warning and continued to give directions in the compromised code, which was not changed until after Lusitania's sinking. At this time, the Royal Navy was significantly involved with operations leading up to the landings at Gallipoli, and the intelligence department had been undertaking a programme of misinformation to convince Germany to expect an attack on her northern coast. As part of this, ordinary cross-channel traffic to the Netherlands was halted from 19 April and false reports were leaked about troopship movements from ports on Britain's western and southern coasts. This led to a demand from the German Army for offensive action against the expected troop movements and consequently, a surge in German submarine activity on the British west coast. The fleet was warned to expect additional submarines, but this warning was not passed on to those sections of the navy dealing with merchant vessels. The return of the battleship Orion from HMNB Devonport to Scotland was delayed until 4 May and she was given orders to stay 100 nautical miles (190 km; 120 mi) from the Irish coast. On 5 May, U-20 stopped a merchant schooner, Earl of Lathom, off the Old Head of Kinsale, examined her papers, then ordered her crew to leave before sinking the schooner with gunfire. On 6 May, U-20 fired a torpedo at Cayo Romano, a British steamer originating from Cuba flying a neutral flag, off Fastnet Rock, narrowly missing by a few feet. At 22:30 on 5 May, the Royal Navy sent an uncoded warning to all ships – "Submarines active off the south coast of Ireland" – and at midnight an addition was made to the regular nightly warnings, "submarine off Fastnet". On 6 May U-20 sank the 6,000-ton steamer Candidate. It then failed to get off a shot at the 16,000-ton liner Arabic, because although she kept a straight course the liner was too fast, but then sank another 6,000-ton British cargo ship flying no flag, Centurion, all in the region of the Coningbeg light ship, around 61 nautical miles (113 km; 70 mi) east of the eventual attack. According to Room 40 archives, the sinking of Centurion in the early afternoon of the 6th would be the last reported position of the submarine until the attack on Lusitania. The specific mention of a submarine was dropped from the midnight broadcast on 6–7 May as news of the new sinkings had not yet reached the navy at Queenstown, and it was correctly assumed that there was no longer a submarine at Fastnet. On the morning of 6 May, Lusitania was still 750 nautical miles (1,390 km; 860 mi) west of southern Ireland. However, Captain Turner was given two warning messages that evening. One at 7:52 pm repeated the information that submarines were active off the south coast of Ireland (in the mistaken belief that multiple submarines were in the area). The other, sent out at noon but only received at 8:05 pm gave instructions: "... Avoid headlands; pass harbours at full speed; steer mid-channel course. Submarines off Fastnet." Lusitania was now 370 miles west of Fastnet. Turner would subsequently be accused of disregarding these instructions. That evening a Seamen's Charities fund concert took place throughout the ship and the captain was obliged to attend the event in the first-class lounge.
By 05:00 on 7 May, Lusitania reached a point 120 nautical miles (220 km; 140 mi) west-southwest of Fastnet Rock (off the southern tip of Ireland), where she met the patrolling boarding vessel Partridge. By 06:00, heavy fog had arrived and extra lookouts were posted. Upon entering the war zone, Captain Turner had 22 lifeboats swung out as a precaution so they could be launched more quickly if needed. As the ship came closer to Ireland, Captain Turner ordered depth soundings to be made and at 08:00 for speed to be reduced to 18 knots (33 km/h; 21 mph), then to 15 knots (28 km/h; 17 mph) and for the foghorn to be sounded. Some of the passengers were disturbed that the ship appeared to be advertising her presence. By 10:00, the fog began to lift, by noon it had been replaced by bright sunshine over a clear smooth sea and speed increased again to 18 knots.
At 11:02 Lusitania was given the message "Questor", which she replied "Westrona". This exchange has been interpreted by some theorists to be a coded message to divert to Queenstown. However, according to the Merchant Vessel codebook, this was a simply a query to confirm that Lusitania had the correct edition of the codebook. Turner subsequently stated he had no such intention for a diversion. At about 11:52 on 7 May, the ship received another warning from the Admiralty, probably as a result of a request by Alfred Booth, who was concerned about Lusitania: "U-boats active in southern part of Irish Channel. Last heard of twenty miles south of Coningbeg Light Vessel." Booth and all of Liverpool had received news of the sinkings, which the Admiralty had known about by at least 3:00 that morning. Turner adjusted his heading northeast, not knowing that this report related to events of the previous day and apparently thinking submarines would be more likely to keep to the open sea, or that a sinking would be safer in shallower water. At 13:00 another message was received, "Submarine five miles south of Cape Clear proceeding west when sighted at 10:00 am". This report was inaccurate as no submarine had been at that location, but gave the impression that at least one submarine had been safely passed. Believing he was in a "safe zone", Turner focused on planning a course to Liverpool through what he understood to be dangerous waters further ahead. Shortly before the attack, John Crank, the baggage master, was specifically ordered to move luggage from the holds to the deck. Some have theorised this meant the ship was ordered to Queenstown, but there is no evidence to confirm this, and Crank's behaviour is consistent with other explanations, especially as Turner also ordered the ship's clocks be adjusted to GMT, not Irish time. U-20 was low on fuel and had only three torpedoes left. That morning, visibility was poor and Schwieger decided to head for home. He submerged at 11:00 after sighting a fishing boat which he believed might be a British patrol and shortly after was passed while still submerged by a ship at high speed. This was the cruiser HMS Juno returning to Queenstown, zig-zagging at her fastest sustainable speed of 16 knots having received warning of submarine activity off Queenstown at 07:45. The Admiralty considered these old cruisers highly vulnerable to submarines, and indeed Schwieger attempted to target the ship.
Sinking
U-20 surfaced again at 12:45 as visibility was now excellent. At 13:20, something was sighted and Schwieger was summoned to the conning tower: at first it appeared to be several ships because of the number of funnels and masts, but this resolved into one large steamer appearing over the horizon. At 13:25, the submarine submerged to periscope depth of 6 fathoms (11 m; 36 ft) and set a course to intercept the liner at her maximum submerged speed of 9 knots. When the ships had closed to two nautical miles (3.7 km; 2.3 mi) Lusitania turned away, Schwieger feared he had lost his target, but she turned again, this time onto a near ideal course to bring her into position for an attack. At 14:10, with the target at a 700-metre (2,300 ft) range, he ordered one gyroscopic torpedo to be fired, set to run at a depth of two fathoms (4 m; 10 ft). According to Schwieger, he did not know the identity of the ship before he attacked, only that it was a large passenger ship. In his career, he launched several attacks without identifying his target, including a later attack on RMS Hesperian where he broke orders prohibiting attacking passenger vessels. Schwieger also misjudged the ship's speed to be 20 knots, but unfortunately for Lusitania, this offset another error he had made in the angle of attack. The torpedo was now on course to strike the ship in around a minute. On board Lusitania, Leslie Morton, an eighteen-year-old lookout at the bow, who survived the sinking, had spotted thin lines of foam racing toward the ship. He shouted, "Torpedoes coming on the starboard side!" through a megaphone, thinking the bubbles came from two projectiles, not one. Upon impact, he describes: "I saw the torpedo coming, a white streak about two feet below the surface. It struck just below the bridge. There was a muffled explosion, and a cloud of coal dust and steam shot up. Then, almost instantly, there came a second explosion—far greater, more shattering. The ship trembled like a living thing." Schwieger's log entries attest that he launched only one torpedo. Some doubt the validity of this claim, contending that the German government subsequently altered the published fair copy of Schwieger's log, but accounts from other U-20 crew members corroborate it. The entries were also consistent with intercepted radio reports sent to Germany by U-20 once she had returned to the North Sea, before any possibility of an official cover-up. Next, in Schwieger's own words, recorded in the log of U-20:
Torpedo hits starboard side right behind the bridge. An unusually heavy detonation takes place with a very strong explosive cloud. The explosion of the torpedo must have been followed by a second one [boiler or coal or powder?]... The ship stops immediately and heels over to starboard very quickly, immersing simultaneously at the bow... the name Lusitania becomes visible in golden letters. Though Schwieger states the torpedo hit behind the bridge, and thus in the vicinity of the first funnel, survivor testimony, including that of Captain Turner, gave a number of different locations: some stated it was between the first and second funnels, others between the third and fourth. Most were in approximate agreement, as witnesses reported a plume of water which knocked Lifeboat No. 5 off its davits and a geyser of steel plating, coal smoke, cinders, and debris high above the deck, and crew working in the boilers claimed they were inundated immediately. This would accord with Schwieger's description. "It sounded like a million-ton hammer hitting a steam boiler a hundred feet high", one passenger said. In many accounts, a second explosion followed, ringing throughout the ship, and thick grey smoke began to pour out of the funnels and ventilator cowls that led deep into the boiler rooms. U-20's torpedo officer, Raimund Weisbach, viewed the destruction through the vessel's periscope and would recall only that the explosion of the torpedo was unusually severe.
At 14:12, Captain Turner had Quartermaster Johnston stationed at the ship's wheel to steer "hard-a-starboard" towards the Irish coast, which Johnston confirmed, but the ship could not be steadied and rapidly ceased to respond to the wheel. Turner signalled for the engines to be reversed to halt the ship, but although the signal was received in the engine room, nothing could be done. Steam pressure had collapsed from 195 psi before the explosion, to 50 psi and falling afterwards, meaning Lusitania could not be steered or stopped to counteract the list or to beach herself. Lusitania's wireless operator sent out an immediate SOS, which was acknowledged by a coastal wireless station. Shortly afterward he transmitted the ship's position, ten nautical miles (19 km; 12 mi) south of the Old Head of Kinsale. At 14:14, the ship's electrical power failed, plunging the cavernous interior of the ship into darkness. Radio signals continued on emergency batteries, but electric lifts failed, trapping crew members in the forward cargo hold who had been preparing luggage to go ashore at Liverpool later that evening; it was these seamen precisely who were to report to muster stations to launch lifeboats in the event of a sinking; bulkhead doors, that were closed as a precaution before the attack, could not be reopened to release trapped men. Few testimonies report passengers trapped in the two central elevators, though one saloon passenger claimed to have seen the lifts stuck between the boat deck and the deck below while passing through the First Class entrance. About one minute after the electrical power failed, Captain Turner gave the order to abandon ship. Water had flooded the ship's starboard longitudinal compartments, causing a 15-degree list to starboard. Within six minutes of the attack, Lusitania's forecastle had begun to submerge. Lusitania's severe starboard list complicated the launch of her lifeboats. Ten minutes after the torpedo struck, when she had slowed enough to start putting boats in the water, the lifeboats on the starboard side swung out too far to step aboard safely. While it was still possible to board the lifeboats on the port side, lowering them presented a different problem. As was typical for the period, the hull plates of Lusitania were riveted, and as the lifeboats were lowered they dragged on the inch-high rivets, which threatened to seriously damage or capsize the boats before they landed in the water.
Many lifeboats overturned while loading or lowering, spilling passengers into the sea; others were overturned by the ship's motion when they hit the water. It has been claimed that some boats, because of the negligence of some officers, crashed down onto the deck, crushing passengers and sliding down towards the bridge. This has been disputed by passenger and crew testimony. Some untrained crewmen lost their grip on handheld ropes used to lower the lifeboats into the ocean, spilling the occupants into the sea. Other lifeboats tipped on launch as panicked passengers jumped into them. Lusitania had 48 lifeboats, more than enough for the crew and passengers, but only six were successfully lowered, all from the starboard side. Lifeboat 1 overturned as it was being lowered, spilling its original occupants into the sea, but righted itself shortly afterwards and was later filled with people from in the water. Lifeboats 9 (5 people on board) and 11 (7 people on board) managed to reach the water safely with a few people, but both later picked up many swimmers. Lifeboats 13 and 15 also safely reached the water, overloaded with around 150 people. Finally, Lifeboat 21 (52 people on board) reached the water safely and cleared the ship moments before her final plunge. A few collapsible lifeboats washed off her decks as she sank, providing flotation for some survivors. Two lifeboats on the port side cleared the ship as well. Lifeboat 14 (11 people on board) was lowered and launched safely, but because the boat plug was not in place, filled with seawater and sank almost immediately. Later, Lifeboat 2 floated away from the ship with new occupants (its previous ones having been spilled into the sea when they upset the boat) after they removed a rope and one of the ship's "tentacle-like" funnel stays. They rowed away shortly before the ship sank. According to Schwieger, he observed panic and disorder on the starboard side of the deck through U-20's periscope, and by 14:25 dropped the periscope and headed out to sea. Later that day, he fired a torpedo at American tanker Narragansett, but missed. Subsequently, the submarine traveled north up the west coast of Ireland, and proceeded to Wilhelmshaven. Surviving passengers on the port side of the deck, however, paint a calmer picture. Many, including author Charles Lauriat, who published his account of the disaster, stated that a few passengers climbed into the early portside lifeboats before being ordered out by Staff Captain James Anderson, who proclaimed, "This ship will not sink" and reassured those nearby that the liner had "touched bottom" and would stay afloat. In reality, he had ordered the crew to wait and fill Lusitania's portside ballast tanks with seawater to even the ship's trim so the lifeboats could be lowered safely. As a result, few boats on the port side were launched, none under Anderson's supervision.
Captain Turner was on the deck near the bridge clutching the ship's logbook and charts when a wave swept upward towards the bridge and the rest of the ship's forward superstructure, knocking him overboard into the sea. He managed to swim and find a chair floating in the water which he clung to. He survived, having been pulled unconscious from the water after spending three hours there. Lusitania's bow slammed into the bottom about 55 fathoms (330 ft; 101 m) below at a shallow angle because of her forward momentum as she sank. Along the way, some boilers exploded and the ship returned briefly to an even keel. Turner's last navigational fix had been only two minutes before the torpedoing, and he was able to remember the ship's speed and bearing at the moment of the sinking. This was accurate enough to locate the wreck after the war. The ship travelled about two nautical miles (4 km; 2 mi) from the time of the torpedoing to her final resting place, leaving a trail of debris and people behind. After her bow sank completely, Lusitania's stern rose out of the water, enough for her propellers to be seen, and went under. As the tips of Lusitania's four, 70-foot (21 m)-tall funnels dipped beneath the surface, they formed whirlpools which dragged nearby swimmers down with the ship. Her masts and rigging were the last to disappear. Lusitania sank in only 18 minutes, at a distance of 11.5 nautical miles (21 km; 13 mi) off the Old Head of Kinsale. Despite being relatively close to shore, it took several hours for help to arrive from the Irish coast. By the time help arrived, however, many in the 52 °F (11 °C) water had succumbed to the cold. By the days' end, 767 passengers and crew from Lusitania had been rescued and landed at Queenstown, though 4 died shortly after. The final death toll for the disaster came to a catastrophic number. Of the 1,960 aboard Lusitania at the time of her sinking, 1,197 (61%) had been lost, including 94 children and about 128 Americans (though the official toll at the time gave slightly different numbers). In the days following the disaster, the Cunard line offered local fishermen and sea merchants a cash reward for the bodies floating all throughout the Irish Sea, some floating as far away as the Welsh coast. Only 289 bodies were recovered, 65 of which were never identified. The bodies of many of the victims were buried at either Queenstown, where 148 bodies were interred in the Old Church Cemetery, or the Church of St Multose in Kinsale, but the bodies of the remaining 885 victims were never recovered. One story—an urban legend—states that when Lieutenant Schwieger of U-20 gave the order to fire, his quartermaster, Charles Voegele, would not take part in an attack on women and children, and refused to pass on the order to the torpedo room – a decision for which he was court-martialed and imprisoned at Kiel until the end of the war. This rumour persisted from 1972, when the French daily paper Le Monde published a letter to the editor. However, Voegele was the U-20's electrician at the time of the torpedoing, not the quartermaster. Despite seemingly putting an end to this rumour, Voegele's alleged hesitation was depicted in the torpedoing scene of the 2007 docudrama Sinking of the Lusitania: Terror at Sea.
Notable passengers
Survived
Oliver Percy Bernard, 34. Scenic designer whose sketches of the sinking were published in The Illustrated London News. Josephine Brandell, 27. Musical actress and singer. Avis Dolphin, 12. A friend of Ian Holbourn, who inspired his bestselling children's book, The Child of the Moat, A Story for Girls, 1557 A.D. (1916). Ogden H. Hammond, 45. Politician and future United States Ambassador to Spain. Ian Holbourn, 42. Oxford professor and writer. Charles T. Jeffery, 38. Automobile manufacturer. Head of the Thomas B. Jeffery Company following his father's death in 1910. Rita Jolivet, 30. French-American stage and screen actress. Kathleen Kaye, 16. Returning alone to England from New York. Assumed charge of a lifeboat following the sinking. Margaret Mackworth (Lady Humphrey Mackworth), 31. British suffragist and daughter of D. A. Thomas. Later 2nd Viscountess Rhondda Sir Frederick Orr-Lewis, 55. 1st Baronet and Canadian businessman. Theodate Pope Riddle, 48. American architect and philanthropist. D. A. Thomas, 59. British former MP (later Viscount Rhondda). Scott Turner, 34. Mining engineer. Gwynn Parry Jones, 24. World-famous Welsh tenor, one of the 16 soloists of Vaughan Williams' Serenade to Music. Marguerite, Lady Allan, 42. Montreal socialite, philanthropist and patron of the arts, wife of Sir H. Montagu Allan
==== Died ==== Lindon Bates Jr., 31. American engineer and politician. Thomas O'Brien Butler, 53. Irish composer and conductor. William Broderick Cloete, 62. Mining entrepreneur who was returning to London from Mexico. His body was never found. Marie Depage, 42. Belgian nurse and wife of surgeon Antoine Depage. Justus Miles Forman, 39. American novelist and playwright. Charles Frohman, 58. American theatre impresario and one of four American "men of world wide prominence" named in the film The Sinking of the Lusitania (1918). Mary Picton Stevens Hammond, 26. Granddaughter of Edwin Augustus Stevens, wife of Ogden H. Hammond, and mother of Millicent Fenwick. Albert L. Hopkins, 44. President of Newport News Shipbuilding. Elbert Hubbard, 58. American philosopher, writer and Roycroft founder, and one of four American "men of world wide prominence" named in the film The Sinking of the Lusitania (1918). Alice Moore Hubbard, 53. Author and woman's rights activist, wife of Elbert Hubbard.
Charles Klein, 48. Playwright and one of four American "men of world wide prominence" named in film The Sinking of the Lusitania (1918) Sir Hugh Lane, 39. Renowned Irish art collector and founder of the Hugh Lane Municipal Gallery in Dublin. Rev. Dr. Basil W. Maturin, 68. British theologian, author, and convert to Catholicism Theodore Naish, 59, British-American engineer, namesake of the Theodore Naish Scout Reservation near Edwardsville, Kansas. Frederick Stark Pearson, 53. American engineer and entrepreneur. His wife, Mabel Ward Pearson, also perished in the sinking. Frances McIntosh Stephens, 64. Montreal socialite and wife of politician George Washington Stephens; with her perished her infant grandson. Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, 37. Sportsman, millionaire, member of the Vanderbilt family, and one of four American "men of world wide prominence" named in the 1918 film The Sinking of the Lusitania – last seen fastening a life vest onto a woman holding a baby. Lothrop Withington, 59. American genealogist, historian and book editor, and famous singer.
Crew members
==== Survived ==== William Thomas Turner, 59, Captain of RMS Lusitania. Arthur Rowland Jones, 35, First Officer John Idwal Lewis, 29, Senior Third Officer Albert Arthur Bestic, 24, Junior Third Officer
==== Died ==== James Clarke Anderson, 48, Staff Captain John Teather Piper, 41, Chief Officer John Stevens, 62, Extra Chief Officer Percy Hefford, 34, Second Officer
Official inquiries
=== Cork county coroner === On 8 May, the local county coroner John Hogan opened an inquest in Kinsale into the deaths of two males and three females whose bodies had been brought ashore by a local boat, Heron. Most of the survivors (and dead) had been taken to Queenstown instead of Kinsale, which was closer. On 10 May Captain Turner gave evidence as to the events of the sinking where he described that the ship had been struck by one torpedo between the third and fourth funnels. This had been followed immediately by a second explosion. He acknowledged receiving general warnings about submarines, but had not been informed of the sinking of Earl of Lathom. He stated that he had received other instructions from the Admiralty which he had carried out but was not permitted to discuss. The coroner brought in a verdict that the deceased had drowned following an attack on an unarmed non-combatant vessel contrary to international law. Half an hour after the inquest had concluded and its results given to the press, the Crown Solicitor for Cork, Henry Wynne, arrived with instructions to halt it. Captain Turner was not to give evidence and no statements should be made about any instructions given to shipping about avoiding submarines.
Board of Trade investigation
The formal Board of Trade investigation into the sinking was presided over by Wreck Commissioner Lord Mersey and took place in the Westminster Central Hall from 15 to 18 June 1915 with further sessions at the Westminster Palace Hotel on 1 July and Caxton Hall on 17 July. Lord Mersey had a background in commercial rather than maritime law but had presided over a number of important maritime investigations, including that into the loss of Titanic. He was assisted by four assessors, as well as Attorney General Sir Edward Carson, Solicitor General F. E. Smith, representing the Board of Trade, and Butler Aspinall, who represented Cunard. A total of 36 witnesses were called, Lord Mersey querying why more of the survivors would not be giving evidence. Most of the sessions were public but two on 15 and 18 June were held in camera when evidence regarding navigation of the ship was presented.
During the closed hearings, the Admiralty tried to lay the blame on Captain Turner, their intended line being that Turner had been negligent. First Sea Lord Fisher noted on one document submitted by Webb for review: "As the Cunard company would not have employed an incompetent man its a certainty that Captain Turner is not a fool but a knave. I hope that Turner will be arrested immediately after the enquiry whatever the verdict". First Lord Winston Churchill noted: "I consider the Admiralty's case against Turner should be pressed by a skilful counsel and that Captain Webb should attend as a witness, if not employed as an assessor. We will pursue the captain without check". In the event, both Churchill and Fisher were replaced in their positions before the enquiry because of the failures of the Gallipoli campaign.
An additional hearing took place on 1 July, at the insistence of Joseph Marichal, who was threatening to sue Cunard for their poor handling of the disaster. He testified that the second explosion had sounded to him like the rattling of machine gun fire and appeared to be below the second class dining room at the rear of the ship where he had been seated. The rifle cartridges Marichal alluded to were mentioned during the case, with Lord Mersey stating that "the 5,000 cases of ammunition on board were 50 yards away from where the torpedo struck the ship, there were no other explosives on board." All had agreed they could not have caused the second explosion. In the end, however, Captain Turner, the Cunard Line, and the Royal Navy were absolved of any negligence, and all blame was placed on the German government. Lord Mersey found that Turner did deviate from Admiralty instructions which may have saved the ship, but such instructions were suggestions more than orders. Thus, the captain had "exercised his judgment for the best" and that the blame for the disaster "must rest solely with those who plotted and with those who committed the crime".
American court proceedings
In the United States, 67 claims for compensation were lodged against Cunard, which were all heard together in 1918 before the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York. Judge Julius Mayer, presided over the case: he had previously presided over the case brought following the loss of Titanic, where he had ruled in favour of the shipping company. Mayer was a conservative who was considered a safe pair of hands with matters of national interest, and whose favourite remark to lawyers was to "come to the point". The case was to be heard without a jury. The two sides agreed beforehand that no question would be raised regarding whether Lusitania had been armed or carrying troops or ammunition. Thirty-three witnesses who could not travel to the US gave statements in England to Commissioner R. V. Wynne. Evidence produced in open court for the Mersey investigation was considered, but evidence from the British closed sessions was not. The Defence of the Realm Act was invoked so that British witnesses could not give evidence on any subject it covered. Statements had been collected in Queenstown after the sinking by the American Consul, Wesley Frost, but these were not produced. Captain Turner gave evidence in Britain and now gave a more spirited defence of his actions. He argued that up until the time of the sinking he had no reason to think that zig-zagging in a fast ship would help. Indeed, that he had since commanded another ship which was sunk while zig-zagging. His position was supported by evidence from other captains, who said that prior to the sinking of Lusitania no merchant ships zig-zagged. Turner had argued that maintaining a steady course for 30 minutes was necessary to take a four-point bearing and precisely confirm the ship's position, but on this point he received less support, with other captains arguing a two-point bearing could have been taken in five minutes and would have been sufficiently accurate. Many witnesses testified that portholes across the ship had been open at the time of the sinking, and an expert witness confirmed that such a porthole three feet under water would let in four tons of water per minute. Testimony varied on how many torpedoes there had been, and whether the strike occurred between the first and second funnel, or third and fourth. The nature of the official cargo was considered, but experts considered that under no conditions could the cargo have exploded. A record exists that Crewman Jack Roper wrote to Cunard in 1919 requesting expenses for his testimony in accord with the line indicated by Cunard. The decision was rendered on 23 August 1918. Mayer's judgement was that "the cause of the sinking was the illegal act of the Imperial German Government", that two torpedoes had been involved, that the captain had acted properly and emergency procedures had been up to the standard then expected. He ruled that further claims for compensation should be addressed to the German government (which eventually paid $2.5 million in 1925).
