... AND ME.
When the curtain goes down it is customary to call for the author. This we cannot do, but without apology we reprint an editorial written about Mr. Plummer by Zeph Pease, editor of the old Mercury, who in the words of William Taylor, “... was a great editor of a great paper.” We feel that this glowing tribute by a close friend is a fitting conclusion to a great story.
“The chain rattled, the blocks sung their song and with a shake of the hand, the cruise was done.” This was the ending to the story of the adventurous expedition recorded by Henry M. Plummer in a delightful book that described the voyage of the author from Potomska to Florida made in 1912-13. A longer voyage is ended. The cruise is done. And it is our wish to give tribute to a gallant gentleman by the sea, whose business interests were on the sea, with a race of men that held a bit of hazard, and who accepted the slings and arrows of fortune in a sportsman’s way.
He had just written for the Mercury a series of articles on the life of a boy in New Bedford in the 70’s and 80’s, autobiographical, which was of historic value, touching lovingly upon the small town life of a village by the sea, whose business interests were on the sea with a race of men that had accepted chances, often disastrous, in conflict with the elements, as a part of the day’s work. There was an atmosphere of bravery about the town and it infected the youth of that day who found pleasure in sports in the open air, in gunning in the woods, and above all in boating. The aspiration of every boy was to “go to sea.” That was the vernacular of the town for engaging in the industry that had been so long the head and front of business undertaking. The boys of that period, notwithstanding whaling had waned, looked up to the masters of ships who had taken their vessels into uncharted seas, the Arctic, the south seas where they discovered new islands and new people, as heroes. The legends of long voyages and strange experiences, permeated the town and the boys that were worth while, scorned the soft side of life and sought out hazards.
The boyhood experiences of Mr. Plummer are so fresh to the readers of the Mercury, that we need not dwell upon them to impress how different were the boys of Mr. Plummer’s day from those of the present. It is not strange that he looked back upon the older day so pleasantly and that finding himself with a winter of leisure which he proposed to spend in a warmer climate to rehabilitate his broken health, he suggested writing the series of articles, which we accepted with enthusiasm. The reception was extraordinary. Readers wrote to the Mercury of the pleasure the articles gave and Mr. Plummer himself received a multitude of letters including many from strangers, who were moved to tell him of the joy he had given them. The fact was, Mr. Plummer had literary style, which he persisted in disavowing, declaring anybody could do the thing as well. Those who read the articles knew this was not true, and we have always felt Mr. Plummer missed an opportunity in not devoting himself to literature.
We have referred to the volume by Mr. Plummer, which was an original venture in publishing. Mr. Plummer sailed from this port on September 15, 1912, for a voyage to Florida, in a 23-foot Cape Cod catboat, 30 years old, accompanied by his son, Henry M. Plummer, Jr., and a cat. “The Boy, Me and The Cat,” was the title. The expedition was cast on the shore, with the catboat bilged and the tender smashed, near Cape Fear, and for ten days father and son, marooned on the lonely, lugubrious beach, stretching a thousand miles on either side, repairing their craft. Mr. Plummer on his return, prepared a typewritten story of a hundred or more large pages, illustrated with crude processes, which he mimeographed personally, turning out as unique a volume as was ever circulated.
There is such lure to the story that as we reread it we can hardly refrain from quoting: One vagrant sentence hit the eye. It was the following definition: “Sport. The pursuit of pleasurable occupation which requires exposure to weather, exercise of all bodily muscles, judgment, skill of hand, foot and eye, never to be followed without a degree of personal risk. Under such classification I put Sailing of boats, Handling of horses, Hunting and canoeing, Mountain climbing. I know of no other purely sporting propositions.”
But we think of another sporting proposition that involved Mr. Plummer. In 1924 a Cape Verdean boy came here on a schooner to join his parents and the immigration authorities refused him leave to land because of an eye infection, although the parents were able to keep him from being a burden upon the community. The little fellow was but ten years old. He was kept aboard the schooner all summer. Then the majesty of the law ordered his deportation, and the child was to be separated from his parents forever. This was not good sportsmanship to Mr. Plummer’s mind. Some people, we include ourselves in this instance were content to protest by writing about it. Mr. Plummer discerned that somebody must do something. He started for Washington and for days he went from pillar to post in behalf of that boy, protesting the injustice and humanity of the thing. As a sportsman Mr. Plummer fought for the underdog, the child from the Cape Verdes, and officialdom and the statutes of the United States dooming him to exile. Mr. Plummer won and the boy was allowed to join his family.