ea and land? Shall
the government at Washington be seduced by cajolery, or compelled by
threats, to rob the merchantmen of the poor protection of a single gun
in order that they may fall absolutely helpless into the black hands of
the prowling Potsdam pirates? That would be neutrality with a vengeance!
Yet that is just what the Imperial German Government tried to persuade
or force the United States to do. Thank God the effort was vain.

These were the matters under discussion when I was called to Washington
in February, 1916, for consultation with the President. The long and
wearing controversy had been going on for months. Every month notes were
coming from Berlin, each more evasive and unsatisfactory than the last.
Every week Count Bernstorff and his aides were coming to the State
Department with new excuses, new subterfuges, and the same old lies. The
President and Secretary Lansing, both of whom are excellent
international lawyers, found their patience tried to the uttermost by
the absurdity of the arguments presented to them and by the veiled
contempt in the manner of the presentation. But they kept their tempers
and did their best to keep the peace.

On two points they were firm as adamant. First, the law of nations
should not and could not be changed in the midst of a war to suit the
need of one of the parties. Second, "the use of submarines for the
destruction of commerce is of necessity, because of the very character
of the vessels employed and the very methods of attack which their
employment of course involves, incompatible with the principles of
humanity, the long-established and incontrovertible rights of neutrals,
and the sacred immunities of non-combatants." (President Wilson's
Address to Congress, April 19, 1916.)

It was on my return from this visit to Washington that I had an
opportunity of observing at close range the crooked methods of the
Potsdam gang in regard to the U-boat warfare. Arriving at The Hague on
March 24, 1916, I found Holland aflame with helpless rage over the
recent sinking of the S.S. Tubantia, the newest and best boat of the
Netherlands-Lloyd merchant-fleet. She was torpedoed by an unseen
submarine on March 15.

An explanation was promptly demanded from the German Government, which
denied any knowledge of the affair. Holland, lacking evidence as to the
perpetrator of the crime, would have had to swallow this denial but for
an accident which furnished her with the missing proof.