HOLYHEAD has been rendered a tolerably safe asylum for shipping at a vast
expenditure of money and great exertion of scientific men. It possesses
few natural advantages for a packet station or floating dock, the
convenience of its position with regard to Dublin excepted; and for this
pure reason it must continue an important position, until some other on
the Welsh coast, possessing superior claims, be discovered and adopted by
the legislature. Amongst the auxiliaries which art has contributed to
give interest to Holyhead, the most picturesque and not the least
important is the lighthouse, erected upon the South Stack. This singular
Pharos stands upon a rocky island, the surface of which is elevated one
hundred and twenty feet above the sea. It is separated from the mainland
by a deep chasm, across which a chain suspension foot-bridge is thrown,
from the mural cliff on the land side to the island. The descent from
the top of the cliff to the bridge is effected by many flights of steps,
cut in the front of the rock. The transit of the bridge is rather a
nervous ceremony, and the fine craggs of serpentine rock, which overhang
the gulf, are unequalled in the mineral kingdom, for variety of pattern
and brilliancy of colouring. Beneath the island is a dark cave,
excavated by the waves which dash into the narrow chasm with the utmost
violence, and used in the milder seasons as a boat-house. On the highest
point of the islet stands the lighthouse, a lofty hollow shaft surmounted
by a lantern placed at a height of about two hundred feet above the sea,
and exhibiting a bright revolving light, which bears upon the Skerries
light south-west, half west nearly, eight miles. The light is produced
by Argand lamps placed in the foci of metallic reflectors ground to the
parabolic form. The sea cliffs of Holyhead mountain, presented to the
South Stack Island, are beautifully bold, precipitous, and finely tinted
with a variety of colours. Here innumerable sea birds, trusting to the
dizzy and dangerous position of their dwellings for protection against
human invasion, build their nests. But the ingenuity of man is only to
be equalled by his courage, an assertion very fully substantiated by the
trade of nest hunting pursued along these dangerous cliffs.
Two hardy and adventurous persons set out together on this perilous
occupation. One remains on the top to provide for the secure tenure of a
strong stake driven deep into the ground at a little distance from the
edge of the precipice; the other, fastening round his waist a rope, which
has previously been wound round the stake, with the remainder of the coil
upon his arm, literally throws himself over the edge of the cliff,
setting his feet against its front, to preserve and regulate a free
descent, and lowers himself until he arrives at the habitations of the
objects of his pursuit. In this manner be spoliates all the nests within
his range, carrying the eggs in a basket suspended from his shoulders.
The havoc being completed, he raises himself, by the same system of
machinery, to the verge of the precipice, when his partner, laying
himself flat upon the ground, assists him to double over the edge of the
cliff, the most perilous part of this desperate undertaking, and one
which could not be effected, without aid. The species of birds that
build their aeries in these steep rocks are various,—wild pigeons, gulls,
razor-bills, guillemots, cormorants, and herons. The pregrine falcon was
formerly found lurking here, and the estimation in which its eggs were
held, encouraged the prosecution of this adventurous trade.