We come back, then, to Andrews as Mr. Childers saw him on that day in
the Yard--big, strong, inspiriting, full of enthusiasm and mastery--a
genuine captain of industry there on the scene of his triumphs, yet
revealing himself as modestly, we know, as any of the great army of
workers under his direction.
Before attempting to give some further and completer account of the
relations which existed between him and the Islanders, it may be well to
give a letter written by Andrews in 1905 to a young relative then
beginning work as an engineer:--
"I am sorry I did not get a shake of your fist, old chap,
before leaving, just to wish you good luck at your business and
a good time at ----
"Please accept from me the enclosed small gift to go towards a
little pocket-money.
"You are such a sensible boy I know that you require no advice
from me, but as an old hand who has come through the mill
myself I would just like to say how important it is for you to
endeavour to give your employers full confidence in you from
the start. This can best be gained:
"(1) By punctuality and close attention to your work at all
times--but don't allow your health to suffer through overwork.
"(2) Always carry out instructions given by those above you,
whether you agree with them or not--and try to get instructions
in writing if you are not sure of your man.
"(3) Always treat those above you with respect, no matter
whether they are fools or know less than yourself.
"(4) Never give information unless you are perfectly sure,
better to say you are not sure, but will look the matter up.
"(5) Never be anxious to show how quick you are by being the
first out of the shop when the horn blows. It is better on
these occasions to be a bit slow.
"Now this is a sermon by Thomas, but not one of your
father's--only that of an old cousin who has high expectations
of you and is interested in your welfare.
"Goodbye and good luck."
That little sermon by Thomas, with its admixture of shrewdness, wisdom,
and kind-heartedness, may be taken as embodying the workaday rules of
duty perfected by Andrews through a varied experience of sixteen
years--rules doubtless as faithfully observed by himself as they were
commended for the guidance of others. What may be called its horse
sense, its blunt avowal of how to play the game, helps us towards a
fuller understanding of the man, puts him in the plain light through
which, every day in view of everyone, he passed. It shows us why he
succeeded, why in any circumstances and irrespective almost of his
higher qualities, he was bound to succeed. It explains, to some extent,
what a workman meant in calling him "a born leader of men." It helps us
to understand why some called him a hard man and why he made a few
enemies; helps us also to understand why the Islander who threatened to
drop a bag of rivets on his head was treated with laughing amenity. What
Andrews demanded of others he exacted in greater measure of himself. If
at times he enforced his code of conduct with sternness, in that, as all
who felt the weight of his hand would eventually acknowledge, he was but
doing his plain duty. Did men skulk or scamp their job, they must be
shown decisively that a shipyard was no place for them. Someone
discovered asleep on a nine inch plank spanning an open ventilator must
be taught discretion. But no bullying, no unfairness--above all, no show
of malice.
If in Andrews' nature was no trace of maliciousness, neither did there
lurk in it any meanness. Not once, but a thousand times, during the past
black months, has his character been summed with characteristic
terseness by the Island shipwrights:
"Just as a judge.... Straight as a die.... There wasn't a crooked turn
in him": simple phrases conveying a magnificent tribute. For what better
in anyone can you have than the straightness of a die, whether you
regard him as man or master? And such straightness in a shipbuilder is
not that the supreme quality?
At all events this quality of absolute rectitude, so indispensable in
other respects, was the main quality which, in their personal relations
with him, won for Andrews the admiration and esteem of the Islanders.
They could trust him. He would see fair play. "If he caught you doing
wrong he wasn't afraid to tell you so." "If he found you breaking a rule
he wouldn't fire you straight away, but would give you the rough side of
his tongue and a friendly caution." "So long as one reported a mistake
honestly he had consideration, but try to hide it away and he blazed at
you." "He had a grand eye for good work and a good man, and the man who
did good work, no matter who he was, got a clap on the shoulder." So the
Islanders, this man and that; and then once more comes the crowning
judgment on the tongue of so many, "He was straight as a die."
But not that one quality alone gained for Andrews his great, one might
say his unique, popularity in the Yard. His vast knowledge, his mastery
of detail, his assiduity, his zest: all these merits had their due
effect upon the men: and effective too was the desire he showed always
to get the best possible out of every worker. It was not enough to _do_
your job, he expected you to _think_ about it: and if from your thinking
resulted a suggestion it got his best consideration. It might be
worthless--never mind, better luck next time; if it were worth a cent, he
would make it shine in your eyes like a dollar.
In addition, were those more personal qualities--emanations, so to speak,
of the man's character: his generosity, kindliness, patience, geniality,
humour, humility, courage, that great laugh of his, the winning smile,
the fine breezy presence: of those also the men had constant and
intimate experience. Anyone in trouble might be sure of his sympathy.
After a spell of sickness his handshake and hearty greeting stirred new
life in your blood. Once he found a great fellow ill-treating a small
foreman who, for sufficient reason, had docked his wages; whereupon
Andrews took off his coat and hammered the bully. During labour and
party troubles, he several times, at risk of his life, saved men from
the mob. One day, in a gale, he climbed an eighty foot staging, rescued
the terrified man who had gone up to secure the loose boards, and
himself did the work. Another day, he lent a hand to a shipwright
toiling across the yard under a heavy beam, and as they went Andrews
asked, "How is it, M'Ilwaine, you always like to be beside me?" "Ah,
sir," was the reply, "it is because you carry up well."
These incidents, chosen from so many, enable us to see why, in the words
of the Island poet, "though Andrews was our master we loved him to a
man." He always carried up well, "stood four-square to all the winds
that blow." Too often, those in authority rule as tyrants, using power
like some Juggernaut crushing under the beasts of burden. But Andrews,
following the example of his uncle, preferred to rule beneficently as a
man among his fellows.
"One evening," writes Mrs. Andrews, "my husband and I were in the
vicinity of Queen's Island, and noticing a long file of men going home
from work, he turned to me and said, 'There go my pals, Nellie.' I can
never forget the tone in his voice as he said that, it was as though the
men were as dear to him as his own brothers. Afterwards, on a similar
occasion, I reminded him of the words, and he said, 'Yes, and they are
real pals too.'"
You see now why a colleague, Mr. Saxon Payne, secretary to Lord Pirrie,
could write, "It was not a case of liking him, we all loved him"; and
why during those awful days in April, when hope of good news at last had
gone, the Yard was shrouded in gloom and rough men cried like women.
They had lost a pal. And not they only. On both sides of the Atlantic,
wherever men resort whose business is in the great waters, owners,
commanders, directors, managers, architects, engineers, ships officers,
stewards, sailors, the name Tom Andrews is honoured to-day as that of
one whose remarkable combination of gifts claimed not only their
admiration, but their affection.
"What we are to do without Andrews," said a Belfast ship-owner, "I don't
know. He was probably the best man in the world for his job--knew
everything--was ready for anything--could manage everyone--and what a
friend! It's irreparable. Surely of all men worth saving he ought to
have been saved. Yes, saved by force, for only in that way could it have
been done."
Here, too, it may be mentioned that during his business career Andrews
received many acknowledgements of a gratifying description from those
whom in various ways he had served--amongst others from the White Star
Company, the Hamburg American Company and, what I daresay he valued as
much, from the stewards of the _Olympic_. Following the announcement of
his marriage, a Committee was organised at the Yard for the purpose of
showing him in a tangible way the esteem of the Islanders, but for
business reasons, or perhaps feeling a delicacy in accepting a
compliment without parallel in the history of the Yard, he whilst making
it plain how much the kindly thought had moved him, felt constrained to
ask the Committee to desist.
One may end this imperfect chapter with two more tributes, themselves
without any great literary merit perhaps, yet testifying sincerely, one
thinks, to the love which Andrews inspired in everyone.
[Illustration: THE "TITANIC" AND THE "OLYMPIC" BUILDING IN THE LARGEST
GANTRY IN THE WORLD]
Long ago, poor Doctor O'Loughlin wrote in collaboration with the Purser
of the _Oceanic_ some verses to be sung to the air _Tommy Atkins_.
Doubtless they have been sung at ship's mess on many a voyage, and
perhaps have elsewhere been printed. One verse is given here:
"_Neath a gantry high and mighty she had birth.
And she'd bulk and length and height and mighty beam.
And the world was only larger in its girth
And she seemed to be a living moving dream.
Then she rode so grandly o'er the sea
That she seemed a beauty decked in bright array.
And the whistle sounded loudly
As she sailed along so proudly,
That we all cried out 'She must be quite O.K.'
Oh Tommy Tommy Andrews we are all so proud of you,
And to say we have the finest ship that e'er was built
is true.
May your hand ne'er lose its cunning, we don't care how
winds may roar
For we know we have a frigate that can sail from shore
to shore._"
The second tribute is taken from a _Lament_, written by the Island
poet in the ballad form so popular in Ireland, and circulated widely in
the Yard:
"_A Queen's Island Trojan, he worked to the last;
Very proud we all feel of him here in Belfast;
Our working-men knew him as one of the best--
He stuck to his duty, and God gave him rest._"