Fitted out as a motor schooner under command of Count von Luckner, with a crew of sixty-eight men, half of whom spoke Norwegian, the German commerce raider Seeadler (Sea Eagle) slipped out from Bremerhaven in December, 1916, encountered a British cruiser, passed inspection, and later proceeded, with the aid of two four-inch guns that had been hidden under a cargo of lumber, to capture and destroy thirteen merchant vessels in the Atlantic before rounding the Horn into the Pacific and there sinking three American schooners before meeting a picturesque fate in the South Sea Islands. The narrative of the Seeadler's career as here told by Current History Magazine is believed to be the most complete yet published.

On Christmas Day, 1916, the British patrol vessel Highland Scot met and hailed a sailing vessel which declared itself without ceremony to be the three-masted Norwegian schooner Irma, bound from Christiania to Sydney with a cargo of lumber. As nothing was more natural, the vessel was allowed to pass, and soon disappeared on the horizon.

A few days later, in the Atlantic, running before a northerly gale, this neatlooking, long-distance freighter threw its deck load of planks and beams into the ocean, brought from their hiding places two four-inch guns, six machine guns, two gasoline launches, and a motor powerful enough to propel the vessel without the use of sails on occasion. Then a wireless dispatch sent in cipher from aerials concealed in the rigging announced that the German raider Seeadler was ready for business. On the bow the legend, "Irma, Christiania," and at the masthead the flag of Norway remained to lure the raider's victims to destruction.

The Seeadler had formerly been the American ship Pass of Balmaha, 2,800 tons, belonging to the Boston Lumber Company. In August, 1915, while on its way from New York to Archangel, it was captured by a German submarine and sent to Bremen, where it was fitted out as a raider. Under the name of the Seeadler it left Bremerhaven on Dec. 21, 1916, in company with the MÖwe, ran the British blockade by the ruse indicated above, and began its career of destruction on two oceans. While the MÖwe waylaid its twenty-two victims along the African coast, the Seeadler turned southwest and preyed on South American trade.

One by one the Seeadler sent to the bottom the British ships Gladis Royle, Lady Island, British Yeoman, Pinmore, Perse, Horngarth; the French vessels Dupleix, Antonin, La Rochefoucauld, Charles Gounod, and the Italian ship Buenos Aires. On March 7, 1917, it encountered the French bark Cambronne two-thirds of the way between Rio de Janeiro and the African coast and forced it to take on board 277 men from the crews of the eleven vessels previously captured. The Cambronne was compelled to carry these to Rio de Janeiro, where it landed them on March 20, thus first revealing the work of the Seeadler to the world. On March 22 the German Government announced the safe completion of the second voyage of the MÖwe. (See Current History Magazine for May, 1917, p. 298.)

Having thus ended its operations in the Atlantic, the Seeadler rounded Cape Horn with the intention of scouring the Pacific. In June it sank two American schooners in that ocean, the A. B. Johnson and R. C. Slade, adding another, the Manila, on July 8, and making prisoners of all the crews. Captain Smith of the Slade afterward told the story of his experiences. His ship had been attacked on June 17, and he had at first tried to escape by outsailing the raider; but after the ninth shell dropped near his ship he surrendered. He continued:

They took all our men aboard the raider except the cook. Next morning I went back on board with all my men and packed up. We left the ship with our belongings June 18. We were put on board the raider again. Shortly after I saw from the raider that they cut holes in the masts and placed dynamite bombs in each mast, and put fire to both ends of the ship and left her. I saw the masts go over the side and the ship was burning from end to end, and the raider steamed away.

After six months of hard life at sea the raider was in need of repairs and the crew longed for a rest on solid land. Casting about for an island sufficiently isolated for his purpose, the Captain, Count von Luckner, decided upon the French atoll of Mopeha, 265 miles west of Tahiti; he believed the little island to be uninhabited. The Seeadler dropped anchor near its jagged coral reefs July 31, 1917. On Aug. 1 Captain von Luckner took possession of the islet and raised the German flag over what he called the Kaiser's last colony. But the next day, during a picnic which he had organized "to entertain his crew and prisoners," leaving only a few men on board the Seeadler, a heavy swell dropped the ship across an uncharted blade of the reef, breaking the vessel's back. The Germans were prisoners themselves on their own conquered islet!

Von Luckner had been incorrect in believing the island entirely uninhabited. Three Tahitians lived there to make copra (dried cocoanut) and to raise pigs and chickens for the firm of Grand, Miller & Co. of Papeete; this firm was shortly to send a vessel to take away its employes, a fact which the Germans learned with mixed emotions.

They brought ashore everything they could from their wrecked ship, including planks and beams, of which they constructed barracks; also provisions, machine guns, and wireless apparatus. The heavy guns were put out of commission—likewise the ship's motor. The wireless plant, a very powerful one, was set up between two cocoanut trees. It was equipped with sending and receiving apparatus, and without difficulty its operator could hear Pago-Pago, Tahiti, and Honolulu.

On Aug. 23 Count von Luckner and five men set out in an armed motor sloop for the Cook Islands, which they reached in seven days. There they succeeded in deceiving the local authorities, but a few days later they and their boat were captured in the Fiji Islands by the local constabulary and handed over to the British authorities. Thus ended the Captain's hope of seizing an American ship and returning to Mopeha for his crew.

On Sept. 5 the French schooner Lutece from Papeete arrived at Mopeha to get the three Tahitians and their crops. First Lieutenant Kling took a motor boat and a machine gun and captured the schooner, which had a large cargo of flour, salmon, and beef, with a supply of fresh water. Kling and the rest of the Germans, after dismantling the wireless, left the island that night, abandoning forty-eight prisoners, including the Americans, the crew of the Lutece, and four natives. Before going they destroyed what they could not take with them, cut down many trees to get the cocoanuts more easily, and left to the prisoners very scant provisions, and bad at that. The few cocoanuts that remained were largely destroyed by the great number of rats on the island. There was plenty of fish and turtles.

After the flight of the Germans the French flag was hoisted on the island and the twentieth-century Robinson Crusoes organized themselves under Captain Southard of the Manila and M. Fain, one of the owners of the Lutece. The camp was rebuilt, the supplies rationed out, the catching of fish and turtles arranged, and the question of going in search of help discussed. On Sept. 8 Pedro Miller, one of the owners of the Lutece, set sail in an open boat with Captains Southard and Porutu, a mate, Captain Williams, and three sailors, hoping to reach the Island of Maupiti, eighty-five miles to the east; but after struggling eight days against head winds and a high sea he returned to Mopeha with his exhausted companions. Two days later, Sept. 19, Captain Smith of the Slade, with two mates and a sailor, left the island in a leaky whaleboat dubbed the Deliverer of Mopeha and shaped their course toward the west; in ten days they covered 1,080 miles and landed at Tutuila, one of the Samoan Islands, where the American authorities informed Tahiti by wireless of the serious plight of the men marooned on Mopeha. The British Governor at Apia—Robert Louis Stevenson's last home—also offered to send a relief ship; but the Governor of the French Establishments of Oceania, declining this offer with thanks, dispatched the French schooner Tiare-Taporo from Papeete on Oct. 4.

Two days later the relief expedition sighted Mopeha by means of a column of smoke that rose from the island, for the Robinson Crusoes had organized a permanent signal system to attract the attention of passing vessels. The arrival of the rescuers was greeted with frantic acclamations. By evening the last boatload of refugees was aboard the Tiare-Taporo, and on the morning of Oct. 10 the schooner reached Papeete, where the prisoners at last were free.

The fate of the Lutece with the main body of the Seeadler's crew was indicated, though not fully explained, by a cable dispatch from Valparaiso, Chile, March 5, 1918, stating that the Chilean schooner Falcon had arrived there from the Easter Islands with fifty-eight sailors formerly belonging to the crew of the Seeadler. The sailors were interned by the Chilean Government. Count Felix von Luckner, commander of the Seeadler, who, with five of his men, had been captured by the local constabulary of the Fiji Islands, was interned by the British in a camp near Auckland, New Zealand. In December he and other interned Germans escaped to sea in an open boat and traveled nearly 500 miles, suffering from lack of food and water, but were recaptured after a two weeks' chase.