Thursday, May 7, 2015

Lusitania, Litigation, and Insurance -- Part IVA

THE SINKING OF THE R.M.S. LUSITANIA AND INSURANCE, Part IV.A

Michael Sean Quinn, Ph.D., J.D., C.P.C.U. . . .


 The first reported lawsuit flowing out of the Lusitania catastrophe on May 7, 1915, a hundred year ago today, was a simple looking case in which coverage was sought under a life insurance policy. It may say more about the times than it does about the role of insurance in the “small picture,” and it certainly reveals something about the changing bases of legal argument in American courts.

The contract of insurance  in question was a life insurance  policy issued in 1903 on Alfred G. Vanderbilt (“Alfred”), the son of Cornelius,  who was drowned during and as a result of the sinking of the ship. The suit was actually brought by Frederick W. Vanderbilt and some others, who were apparently executors of his vast estate.  Vanderbilt v. Travelers Insurance Company, Supreme Court, New York County, New York, Trial Term, 112 Misc. 248, 184 N.Y.S. 54 (June 1920), affirmed by the Appellate Division, 202 A.D. 732, 194 N.Y.S. 986 (1922) (No opinion and one judge dissenting), that appellate court being affirmed by the New York Court of Appeals,  235 N.Y. 514, 130 N.E. 715 (1923)(Memorandum Opinion with two judges dissenting, but Benjamin Cardozo in the majority, though not the writer of the short memorandum opinion, as its prose makes immediately obvious)[1]

So what do we have?  We have a reported opinion by trial level court, a rarity in almost all states except for New York; we have an appellate affirmation without any opinion at all, and we have an affirmation from the highest court in a memorandum opinion.  (I shall refer to the dissenting opinion presently.)

Remember, this is an ordinary life insurance dispute.  The insured, i.e., the estate of the policyholder, demanded coverage from the life insurer, the insurer refused to pay, i.e., denied the claim, on the basis of the provisions in the contract of insurance, and the suit resulted.  There was no question as to whether was an Alfred was an insured and whether he was dead. There was no issue as to timely notice, and there were no questions about the content of the application for insurance or any questions based upon fraud by the insured.

There was only one question before the court and that pertained to whether the “war risk” exclusion applied.  That exclusion in the policy read this way, in pertinent part:

Nor shall this insurance cover. . . death. . . resulting, directly or indirectly, wholly or in part from . . . war. . . .”

Often these days, exclusions like this one often involve general issues over whether the relevant causation was direct or indirect. Or whether a loss was caused by a particular cause completely (wholly) or in part (i.e., whether there was another cause involved, e.g., wind and hail, or wind and flood, etc.) There were not the issues.

The dispute rested solely upon the concept or idea of war.  Technically, I suppose, one could say that the disputed hinged on the meaning of the word “war.” Obviously, there was a war going on between Great Britain and Germany. Whether there was a war going on was not in dispute. At the same time, it was beyond dispute that the United States was not “in” this war at that time.

The court characterized the Vanderbilt position as this:

[H]owever, execrable may be the act of a belligerent, it is none the less, with respect to private persons, a result of war after a formal declaration thereof, and comes within the conditions which would excuse performance under the policy of payment of the sum for which the decedent was injured.”

I begin by confessing that I am not sure that the Vanderbilt position is.

Maybe it’s this: there was a war, but the attack on a civilian vessel and the killing of non-combatants could not be part of the war, but must be something distinct from the war, since there was international law against doing this sort of thing to a vessel like the Lusitania, while at sea. The Vanderbilt position would be right about the claim that there were at that time international laws forbidding what the German U-Boat did.

Or maybe it is this. There was a war going on between Germany and Great Britain, among others, but the United States was not a belligerent in that war; it was not a party to the war.  Hence, the U-Boat attack was not an act of war upon the United States and therefore not within the war risk exclusion of the Travelers’ policy.

The court would have none of it. For the court, the policy was quite clear: there was no coverage if death resulted from war. According to the court, this means “a war”. . . “any war.” One can wonder, I suppose, whether an initial “act of war” means there is a war or a state of war, and I will return to this is Part V, but in this case, there was a war, there was an event of war, and there was what we would now call “collateral damage” resulting from the war. In other words, the key term in the court’s decision is “resulting  from.”

The court went a long way out of its way to establish its view. It cited and quoted from several classical texts on international law, including Alberico Gentilis (1553-1608) and Sir Robert Phillmore (1810-1885), as well as several early 19th Century cases from the United States Supreme Court, including cases pertaining to the “Indian Wars.”

My favorite of the cites is from the opinion of Justice Marshall in Brown v. United States, 8 Cranch[2] 110, 12 U.S. 110 (1814).[3] The trial court judge in the Vanderbilt case observes that  rules of war regarding civilians are in a sense “nice-ities” and not really part of the definition of “war” or the concept of war  itself. “Usage and custom,” says the judge, “prescribing the restraints imposed for the protection of noncombatants and third person generally is merely” [and here he picks up language from Justice Marshall’s opinion:

a guide which the sovereign follows or abandons at his will. The rule, like other precepts of morality, of humanity, and even of wisdom, is addressed to the judgment of the sovereign; and although it cannot be disregarded by him with obloquy, yet it may be disregarded.

The deciding court of the Appellate Division did not write an opinion, and the majority of the New York Court of Appeals said nothing new.  The ground of the dissenters was sketched ever so briefly,  however:

the word ‘war,’ in the exception of the policy [what would today be called the exclusion in the policy], because of its association, means war in which the insured participates as a belligerent.

I have no idea what the phrase “because of its association” might mean, or what significance it might have. At the same time, I am reasonably certain that this is a way of applying what it is today often called the “Rule [or Doctrine] of Contra Preferentem” which is the legal principle that all ambiguities in a document should be construed unfavorably to the drafter.  The rule is also called the “Ambiguity Rule, or the “Rule Against Ambiguity.” This rule is of special importance to insurance policies, although it applies to all contracts. The reason why this application is of special importance in that insurers are almost always the drafters of the insurance policies and the vast majority of insured can use whatever help they can get.

Perhaps a bit of trivial history about the Vanderbilt who was drowned is appropriate. He was the scion of Cornelius Vanderbilt—not the eldest but perhaps the most responsible from a financial point of view.  He was mostly a sportsman and playboy, who never really grew up, but he was to some degree involved in financial matters.  He sat on the boards of several of his father’s railroads, and he was involved in building the Vanderbilt Hotel in New York City; apparently he lived in the hotel at least some of the time. He was divorced for infidelity, and his mistress and a different girl friend seem to have killed themselves in different and separate occasions.There is a story about his death.  He seems to have taken off the life jacket he got for himself and either put it on an old woman or a young woman holding an infant. There is no disagreement about another piece of the story, however. Alfred had never learned how to swim—odd for an inveterate sportsman. See Greg King and Penny Wilson, LUSITANIA: Triumph, Tragedy, and the End of the Edwardian Age (2015), the mush better though less gossipy book Erik Larson, DEAD WAKE: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania (2015), a best seller in the Sprint of 2015, and, of course, there is Wikipedia.



I have suggested that some of the litigation following the "Great War" was part of the progressive transformation of American legal reasoning. This case does not represent a significant contribution to the changes mores of American jurisprudence following the Great War. However, a strain of it is there. The plaintiff obviously expounds an different definition of "war," attempting to use what would now be called the "Strong Ambiguity Rule" for interpreting standardized insurance policies by means of applying international law. The effort fails, and probably rightly so, but the arguments of the plaintiff are culturally advanced. 




Michael Sean Quinn, Ph.D., J.D., C.P.C.U. . . .
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[1] For those readers not accustomed to reading this sort of thing, “Misc” names an official reporter of the State of New York for trial level courts; “N.Y.S.” names a publication of Westlaw or Westlaw Next. These are the big brown books one seen in law offices or many pictures of law offices, e.g., those on the Internet.  The reader might wish to keep something in mind. In most states, the “Supreme Court” is the highest court in the state. There reverse is true in New York state. Thus, the Supreme Court just cited first, is the trial court level; in many states and in the federal system, this is—or might be--called the “district court” or the “county court at law,” as some of them are called in Texas, or—as it is called elsewhere--the “court of common pleas.” The parallel cite, “N.Y.S.” is “New York Supplement” and it refers to opinions of the Appellate Division. The second piece in the cite is to the Appellate Division of the Supreme Court. The initial “A.D.” means “Appellate Division,” and it is the official report of those courts in the State of New York. The New York Court of Appeals is the highest court in New York state now, just as it was then. The official report is abbreviated “N.Y.,” and it is reported in Westlaw as part of the North East “district,” Westlaw’s name,  or “N.E.,” now “___N.E.3d. ____,” with the volume number in the first blank space and the page number in the second.


in WestLaw as part of the North Eastern “district,” WestLaw’s name,  or “N.E,” now “N.E.3d.”







[2] William Cranch (1769-1855) was a lawyer and federal judge who reported cases of the Supreme Court of the United States during some its early years.  There were several people who did this, one after another, until “U.S.” became the official reported. Judge Cranch did it from 1801 to 1815. He is a mildly interesting character, a real estate lawyer and speculator for a while, a relative of Abigail Adams (and therefore by marriage to John Adams who bailed him out at one point), a relative of John Quincy Adams, one of the “Midnight Judge” appointments between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson but then appointed and made Chief Judge by Jefferson himself. He also swore in two different presidents, John Tyler and Millard Fillmore.
[3] There were a series of “Prize” cases decided by the U.S.Supreme Court in its early days, and Brown was one of them. “Prize” is a term of maritime referring to right one country to capture the ships flying the flag of another during war time. The country that captures a prize gets to keep it.  Often crews received some of the money. Countries at war could appoint privateers to act for them by means of a Letter of Marque and Reprisal. The Brown case involved the cargo of a vessel that was trapped in an American port by the onset of the Was of 1812. The cargo at issue got stuck in the mud, quite literally, and the issue whether it could be counted as a “prize.” British law said “Yes,” but Marshall on behalf of the Court said “No.”

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