| Title: | W K Harshaw, Paterson NJ, to Robert Harshaw, Co Down. |
|---|---|
| ID | 1340 |
| Collection | Irish Emigration Database |
| File | Harshaw, W. K/11 |
| Year | 1896 |
| Sender | Harshaw, W.K. |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | unknown |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Paterson, New Jersey, USA |
| Destination | Co. Down, N.Ireland |
| Recipient | Harshaw, Robert |
| Recipient Gender | male |
| Relationship | brothers |
| Source | T 1505/4: Copied by Permission of Ulster Folk Museum, Cultra Manor, County Down. #TYPE EMG W.K.H [Harshaw?], Paterson, New Jersey, to "Master Robert" [Harshaw?], [Ringclare, County Down?], 11 March 1896. |
| Archive | Public Record Office, Northern Ireland |
| Doc. No. | 9005216 |
| Date | 11/03/1896 |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | EMG |
| Log | 22:05:1990 JMR created 21:08:1991 SE input 23:08:1 |
| Word Count | 1393 |
| Genre | |
| Note | |
| Transcript | To: "Master Robert," [Ringclare, County Down?] From: [W.K. Harshaw?] Paterson N.J. [New Jersey?] March 11th 1896 Master Robert The Saturday's steamers mails are usually delivered here on Monday mornings. On Monday morning the 2nd I was nervous and expectant as yours of the week before had announced that John was rapidly approaching his end, and then was evidently very near it. I looked, therefore, for a black-winged messenger from you on Monday. I hurried to the door as soon as the bell rang. The postman had shoved your card under the door, and it was with a dash of satisfaction that I saw it was only a card, and not a black-bordered herald, and I explained to myself: "Not yet, not yet! John still lives!" I picked up the card and read "John became unconscious on Sunday and died" - I got no farther, and have not read any more. Enough to know that all is over and John Harshaw is no more! I placed the card on the table before the wife and retired from sight or sound, or light of day for a time. John Harshaw no more! And the Milltown fields and streets and roads, and the pleasant places of Loughorne, and Donaghmore, Ringclare and the meetinghouse, with all their familiar associations, will see and know him no more for ever! No other personality from that region could take away so much that was identified with it, that so much embodied and preserved the memories of the better times thereabouts, and the characteristics of the better race that once dwelt there. To-day I cannot think of John as belonging to his surroundings of late years. He seems, somehow, as having been apart and above them, as if belonging to a different and a higher order. He was hedged and hampered with unfavorable conditions, but the pure gold of his character, his qualities and his sentiments, stood out clear and distinct and pervading, as if his personality was superior to conditions and circumstances. He was a strong tower and rock of defence to us all his relatives and to all that sought his advice; and all of you seem to be weaker and more helpless and more defenceless in his departure. A clear mind, a well regulated judgement, a broad intelligence, a discriminating wisdom, all have gone out - out into the night, apparently - with the going of this brother our love - our own Prince John! Your letter with the fatal bordering reached me three days after your card. I have not yet had the courage to open it, although I would have blamed you if you had not sent it as you have. I do not expect to read it before next week. It is enough to know in the meantime, what its purpose and significance I read the obituary notice in the Telegraph three days ago and that has introduced me to some of the features of the sad reality. My next week I will likely have become so familiarized with the thought - the shadow of the great disaster that has come upon us, that I will be able to read the particulars of its happenings. And yet I fear to enter on the reading of these. John as I saw him last and as I think of him, was so strong and rigorous [vigorous?], the very picture and embodiment of healthy, manly development, and I would not like to read the account of the successive steps of his falling away from this condition, and his gradual decline from strength to weakness - the strong man reaching decrepitude, and the golden bowl of his existence becoming broken. Not this picture of John do I want to receive or retain, but the other as I saw him 17 years ago in the flush and energy of health. Decay is never pleasant to contemplate, and nothing is so replete with suggestions if ruin and desolation as the strong man fading into helplessness, and the king- ly qualities of activity, authority and direction passing into eclipse. And then when all this is exemplified in such as John-one so near and dear to us, enabled by all the graces of head and heart that made him loved and honored [honoured?] and approved by all who knew him, the loss- the ruin is intensifed. I do not willingly want to mark the reality or the inevitable culmination in such a case, nor do I like to risk the admission of such knowledge into my thoughts.- But I must read your letter. How much John's going takes away out of my life! He was the great connecting link between all my early days and the friends and associated of these, were all personified in him. He was of those times and a part of them, and in his presence and in his memory preserved a record and a halo of them. And even down to the end how much of the central figure he was in all the relations of home life. Guide, philosopher and friend he was to all of us - to all within the circle of his influence - and all looked to him and relied on him as if his knowledge and direction were supreme and unquestioned. Whatever he sanctioned, there was solid ground: whatever he disapproved or opposed, there were the halting places and the danger signals. Always when thinking of the Milltown and Donaghmore matters and the difficulties thereabouts the thought has always been present with me: "Well, all is safe with you there under the shadow of John's wing". Now this safeguard - this protecting care is withdrawn and you - all of us are in the position of "Sheep without a Shepherd when the clouds shut out the sun". John was our mother in that he carried the amenities and loving kindnesses of the old Milltown home-life into all his relations with the members of that home-life. Tolerant, solicitous, and attentive as my mother, it was in the same spirit that all of us could turn to him and rely upon him with the confidence as of a mother's partiality. On the other hand John was as our father - the superior intelligence, the strong and sure and venerated personality that all of us looked up to, and all regarded as a head and shoulders, not only above ourselves, but above all other men, in all the proficiencies of a Christian manhood. Ah, who shall I look to now for recalling and representing my father to me, or who among all the relatives can I ever meet again on the same plane of mental and characteristic accomplishment? You, Master Robert, will, of course, now be the first in the line of sucession to the headship of the family. That position you will, as you largely have already fill most creditably - most admirably, as far as the requirements appeal to you. But your sphere in this regard has been different to John's. His was among the practical affairs of every day circumstances where business experience and arithmetic were important requisities. Besides he was in contact with those who needed his services and advice most, and he was familiar with every thing in that relation. Your position towards the same parties is necessarily less intimate and consequently will be less effective. But I know you will not be wanting in anything where prudence and kindness and attentiveness are needed. I would like - dearly like - to see all the friends in and about Donaghmore again and often, but yet my feelings in that respect have undoubtedly been weakened by John's departure. It will not be quite with the same intense desire that I will henceforth long for such a renewed visit. Nothing there is the same or seems to have the same attractiveness since this event. John's going seem to have taken the spirit out of every thing there. I suppose you experience some of the same feelings yourself. How bitterly I regret not having seen you all last year, or recently. It could not have been helped on my part. I simply could not go, so I have nothing to blame myself for on that head. Only when it comes to pass, as in this instance that the opportunity of seeing some of you is taken away from one forever then I bitterly, bitterly regret the inability. W.K.H. [Harshaw?] |
