No act of friendship is so difficult as the letter of
condolence upon the loss of one who is near and dear. Strive
as we may to avoid vapid conventionality, we find ourselves
drifting into reflections upon the course of nature, the
cessation of suffering, the worse that might have been, and
such offers of comfort to others which we are conscious would
be of little help to ourselves. In writing to you and your
wife on the sorrow of two worlds, which has fallen so heavily
upon your home and family, I feel no such difficulty. There is
no temptation to be conventional, but it is hard to express in
words the very real consolation which will long be cherished
by the wide circle of those now bitterly deploring the early
death of one who was clearly marked out for a great career in
the chief _doing_ part of Irish life.
Of the worth of your son I need not speak to you--nothing I
could say of his character or capacity could add to your pride
in him. But you ought to know that we all feel how entirely to
his own merits was due the extraordinary rapidity of his rise
and the acknowledged certainty of his leadership in what
Ulster stands for before the world. When I first saw him in
the shipyard he was in a humble position, enjoying no
advantage on account of your relationship to one of his
employers. Even then, as on many subsequent occasions, I
learned, or heard from my Irish fellow-workers, that this
splendid son of yours had the best kind of public spirit--that
which made you and Sinclair save the Recess Committee at its
crisis.
It may be that the story of your poor boy's death will never
be told, but I seem to see it all. I have just come off the
sister ship, whose captain was a personal friend, as was the
old doctor who went with him to the _Titanic_. I have been
often in the fog among the icebergs. I have heard, in over
sixty voyages, many of those awful tales of the sea. I know
enough to be aware that your son might easily have saved
himself on grounds of public duty none could gainsay. What
better witness could be found to tell the millions who would
want and had a right to know why the great ship failed, and
how her successors could be made, as she was believed to be,
unsinkable? None of his breed could listen to such promptings
of the lower self when the call came to show to what height
the real man in him could rise. I think of him displaying the
very highest quality of courage--the true heroism--without any
of the stimulants which the glamour and prizes of battle
supply--doing all he could for the women and children--and then
going grimly and silently to his glorious grave.
So there is a bright side to the picture which you of his
blood and his widow must try to share with his and your
friends--with the thousands who will treasure his memory. It
will help you in your bereavement, and that is why I intrude
upon your sorrow with a longer letter than would suffice to
tender to you and Mrs. Andrews and to all your family circle a
tribute of heartfelt sympathy.
Pray accept this as coming not only from myself but also from
those intimately associated with me in the Irish work which
brought me, among other blessings, the friendship of men like
yourself.
Believe me,
Yours always,
HORACE PLUNKETT.