THE BELL ROCK, A.D. 1807-1811.
In the arts of peace a noble rivalry exists between the sister kingdoms
of Great Britain; and as England may boast in her Eddystone tower of
a splendid work of science and philanthropy, and in her Smeaton of
an engineer not less remarkable for genius than resolution, so may
Scotland proudly point to the lighthouse on the Bell Rock as a national
monument, and to her Robert Stevenson as scarcely inferior to Smeaton
in skill and intrepidity.
* * * * *
We have already stated that the charge of lighting the Scottish
coast—which, owing to its exposure to heavy seas and furious winds,
to its numerous rocks and islands and rugged promontories, is one of
the most dangerous in Europe, perhaps in the world—is intrusted to
a body called the “Commissioners of Northern Lights,” incorporated
by Act of Parliament in 1786. At first the erection of only _four_
lights was contemplated: at Kinnaird Head, in Aberdeenshire; on the
Orkney Islands; on the Harris Islands; and at the Mull of Kintyre, in
Argyleshire. But the vast development of the commerce of Scotland soon
called for additional assistance to the navigators of her waters, and
at the present time her shores are surrounded with a ring of warning
lights.
The most ancient public light on the Scottish coast is that situated on
the Isle of May; an island which, like a natural breakwater, lies off
the mouth of the Firth of Forth, and commands, as it were, the great
highway to the Scotch capital and its prosperous port. It seems to have
been erected at a very early period; and over the entrance-door of the
weather-beaten tower is cut the figure of the sun, with the date of
1635.
After the Union, very considerable discontent was expressed by the
English and Irish merchants that, for the maintenance of this beacon,
they were charged exactly double the rate paid by Scottish vessels.
They also complained of the insufficiency of the light, which was
simply a coal-fire exposed in an open chauffer, or brazier. The
Edinburgh Chamber of Commerce taking up the matter, the proprietor
of the light consented to increase its magnitude, and accordingly
enlarged his chauffer to three feet square, doubling the consumption
of coal, which had formerly been about 200 tons per annum. Thenceforth
it became the “most powerful coal-light in the kingdom;” but, owing
to its exposure, was frequently unsteady in foul weather; and,
moreover, was apt to be confused with the lime-kilns and accidental
fires on the neighbouring coast. The Duke of Portland had by this
time become proprietor—through marriage—of the light and the island;
but to repeated applications that he would substitute an oil-light
and reflectors for the wavering and uncertain coal-fire, he turned a
deaf ear. At length, on the 19th of December 1810, two men-of-war were
wrecked near Dunbar, in consequence, it was believed, of a lime-kiln
on the Haddingtonshire coast being mistaken for the Isle of May light.
The Admiralty were thus led to interfere, and, after some negotiations
with the Duke of Portland, an Act of Parliament was passed in 1814
empowering the Commissioners of Northern Lights to purchase the island
and its lighthouse for a sum of £60,000. The tolls were then reduced to
an uniform scale, a new tower was erected, and a light on the catoptric
system was first exhibited on the 1st of February 1816.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, the progress made in lighting other important points of the
Scottish coast had been considerable.
The lighthouse at Grass Island in Harris was completed on the 10th of
October 1789. On the same date was kindled a light at North Ronaldshay,
in Orkney. In 1790, on the 1st of October, a light was exhibited at
Pladda, a small island south-west of Arran, in the Firth of Clyde.
As a guide to the Pentland Firth a lighthouse was erected on the
Pentland Skerries in 1794. The Skerries are a couple of desolate
islands, exposed to the stress of the North Sea and the currents of
the Pentland Firth; and the works here consist of an upper and lower
lighthouse, respectively 100 and 80 feet above the sea-level, and 60
feet apart. They deserve our special notice as the first memorials of
the skill and energy of Robert Stevenson as an engineer. He was on the
spot when the two lights were first exhibited, October 1, 1794; and,
his task completed, sailed from Orkney on the 9th of October in the
sloop _Elizabeth_. On the following day he landed within a few miles
of Kinnaird Head lighthouse, and continued his journey to Edinburgh
by road, reaching the capital in safety. A different fate, however,
awaited his former companions; the sloop having put back to Cromarty
Roads, was afterwards driven to Orkney, and ultimately lost, when all
on board perished.[31]
[31] Robert Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” p. 17
(Edit. 1824).
* * * * *
We have spoken of a lighthouse erected on North Ronaldshay in 1789.
An experience of twelve years showed that its position had been
unfortunately selected, and that it by no means assisted the mariner
in navigating the difficult straits of the Orkney archipelago. Every
winter ships were cast away, and precious lives were lost, on the
islands of Stronsay and Sanday, though the latter is only eight miles
distant from North Ronaldshay. In 1796 three homeward-bound vessels
were lost on this fatal island, and eight more in the next three years.
It was therefore resolved, in 1801, that a beacon, or tower of masonry,
should be erected upon the Start Point, or eastern extremity of the low
shores of the island of Sanday; and erected in such a manner that, if
found necessary, it might be converted into a lighthouse.
In 1802 Mr. Stevenson sailed on his annual voyage of inspection to
the Northern Lighthouses, carrying with him a foreman and sixteen
artificers to commence the works on Start Point. It was the month of
April, but, even at this advanced period of the season, the Orkney
Islands were found covered to the depth of six inches with snow.
Operations were commenced, however, without a day’s delay: a sandstone
quarry was opened on the adjacent island of Edda; and by the middle of
May sufficient materials were collected for the commencement of the
edifice. The foundation-stone was laid, with masonic ceremonies, on the
15th of May, when an address was delivered by Mr. Traill, the minister
of the parish, some portions of which may be preserved in these pages:—
“The moment is auspicious. The foundation-stone is laid of a building
of incalculable value;—a work of use, not of luxury. Pyramids were
erected by the pride of kings to perpetuate the memory of men whose
ambition enslaved and desolated the world. But it is the benevolent
intention of our Government on this spot to erect a tower—not to
exhaust, but—to increase the wealth and protect the commerce of this
happy kingdom....
“Consider the great national objects for which this building will be
erected. To protect commerce, and to guard the lives of those intrepid
men who for us cheerfully brave the fury of the waves and the rage of
the battle. The mariner, when he returns to the embraces of his wife
and children, after ascribing praise to the great Giver of safety,
shall bless the friendly light which guided him over the deep, and
recommend to the protection of Heaven those who urged, who planned, and
who executed the work. This day shall be remembered with gratitude. It
shall be recorded that, at the beginning of a new century, the pious
care of Government was extended to this remote island. These rocks, so
fatal to the most brave and honourable part of the community, shall
lose their terror, and safety and life shall spring from danger and
death.”[32]
[32] Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” p. 23.
* * * * *
By steadily prosecuting the works throughout the summer, they were
brought to a fortunate completion in the month of September. The beacon
rose to a height of 100 feet, and terminated with a massive ball of
masonry, measuring fifteen feet in circumference.
* * * * *
It was found, however, that the construction of this beacon did not
prevent the occurrence of frequent wrecks upon the island. It was
proverbial with its inhabitants to observe, that if wrecks were to
happen, they might as well be sent to the poor island of Sanday as
anywhere else. In fact, the inhabitants of this and the neighbouring
islands lived upon the proceeds of their wreckage, and melancholy
remains of many a “tall ship” met the eye in every direction.
For example, says Mr. Stevenson, although quarries are to be generally
met with in these islands, and the stones are very suitable for
building dykes, yet instances occur of the land being enclosed, even
to a considerable extent, with ship-timbers. A park[33] might be seen
paled round, chiefly with cedar-wood and mahogany from the wreck of a
Honduras-built ship;[34] and in one island, after the loss of a ship
laden with wine, the inhabitants took claret to their barley-meal
porridge, instead of their usual beverage. When Mr. Stevenson
complained to one of the pilots of the badness of his boat’s sails,
he replied, with grim humour, “Had it been God’s will that you came na
here wi’ these lights, we might a’ had better sails to our boats, and
more o’ other things.” A much higher rent was given for the farms than
they were absolutely worth, in consideration of the profits that would
probably accrue from wrecks on their respective shores.
[33] A “park,” _Scottice_ for a “field.”
[34] Is it necessary to remind the reader that Honduras, on the Bay of
Campeachy, is famous for its mahogany?
Under these circumstances it was deemed advisable to convert the North
Ronaldshay lighthouse into a beacon, and the Start Point beacon into
a lighthouse, both transformations being successfully effected in
the course of the year 1805; and the light exhibited on Start Point,
January 1st, 1806.
* * * * *
Continuing our brief chronological resumé, we find that, for the better
navigation of the noble estuary of the Forth, a lighthouse was erected
on the island of Inchkeith—which lies nearly opposite the town of
Portobello on the south shore, and Burntisland on the north—in 1805.
Its base is 175 feet above the sea, and the building itself measures 45
feet in height. The light is a revolving one.
We now come to a description and historical account of the celebrated
lighthouse to which this chapter is more particularly devoted.
Pharos _loquitur_.
“Far in the bosom of the deep
O’er these wild shelves my watch I keep,
A ruddy gem of changeful light,
Bound on the dusky brow of Night:
The seaman bids my lustre hail,
And scorns to strike his timorous sail.”
Sir Walter Scott.[35]
[35] Written by the great novelist in the Album of the Lighthouse, when
he visited it in 1816.
[Illustration: INCHKEITH LIGHTHOUSE.]
The Inch Cape, or Bell Rock, is a “dangerous sunken reef,” situated on
the northern side of the entrance of the Firth of Forth, at a distance
of eleven miles from the promontory of the Red Head, in Forfarshire;
of seventeen miles from the island of May; and of thirty miles from
St. Abb’s Head, in Berwickshire. Its exact position is in lat. 56°
29´ N., and long. 2° 22´ E. Its extreme length is estimated by Mr.
Stevenson at 1427 feet, and its extreme breadth at about 30 feet, but
its configuration or margin is extremely irregular. The geological
formation of the rock is a reddish sandstone, which in some places
contains whitish and greenish spots of circular and oval forms. Its
lower portions are covered with various aquatic plants, such as the
great tangle (_fucus digitatus_), and the badderlock, or hen-ware
(_fucus esculentus_); while the higher parts are clothed with the
smaller fuci, such as _fucus marmillosus_, and _fucus palmatus_, or
common dulse.
The name “Inch Cape” occurs in a chart published in 1583, and refers,
we suppose, to its situation as an “inch,” or island, off the Red
Head promontory. Its better known appellation, “the Bell Rock,” _may_
allude to its bell-like figure, but more probably originated in the
circumstance that a bell with a float was fixed upon it by a former
abbot of Aberbrothock (Arbroath), in such a manner that it was set
in motion by the winds and waves, and by its deep tones afforded a
much-needed warning to navigators of the dangerous character of the
spot.
In connection with this humane device—whose actual existence there
seems no good reason to doubt—an old tradition has long been current,
which Southey embodies with much picturesque effect in his well-known
ballad of “Sir Ralph the Rover”:—
“No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The ship was still as she could be;
Her sails from heaven received no motion,
Her keel was steady in the ocean.
“Without either sign or sound of their shock,
The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
“The Abbot of Aberbrothok
Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;
On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,
And over the waves its warning rung.
“When the rock was hid by the surge’s swell,
The mariners heard the warning bell;
And then they knew the perilous rock,
And blessed the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
“The sun in heaven was shining gay,
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled around,
And there was joyaunce in their sound.
“The buoy of the Inchcape bell was seen,
A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck,
And he fixed his eye on the darker speck.
“He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,
But the Rover’s mirth was wickedness.
“His eye was on the Inchcape float;
Quoth he, ‘My men, put out the boat,
And row me to the Inchcape Rock,
And I’ll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok.’
“The boat is lowered, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,
And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float.
“Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound,
The bubbles rose and burst around;
Quoth Sir Ralph, ‘The next who comes to the rock
Won’t bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.’
“Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away,
He scoured the seas for many a day;
And now grown rich with plundered store,
He steers his course for Scotland’s shore.
“So thick a haze o’erspreads the sky,
They cannot see the sun on high;
And the wind hath blown a gale all day,—
At evening it hath died away.
“On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land:
Quoth Sir Ralph, ‘It will be lighter soon,
For there is the dawn of the rising moon.’
“‘Canst hear,’ said one, ‘the breakers roar?
For methinks we should be near the shore;’
‘Now where we are I cannot tell,
But I wish I could hear the Inchcape bell!’
“They hear no sound, the swell is strong;
Though the wind hath fallen they drift along,
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock,—
‘O Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock.’
“Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.
“But even in his dying fear
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,—
A sound as if with the Inchcape bell
The devil below was ringing his knell.”
It would be difficult to name a position on the Scottish coast where
a lighthouse was more a matter of necessity for the safety of ships
than this long-famous rock. The beacons which, one after another,
had been erected upon it, the furious waves had swept away; and a
structure was needed not less solid and permanent than that of the
Eddystone. To design such a structure, and to plant it solidly amid
the waves, became, in 1806, the task of Mr. Robert Stevenson. As the
rock was frequently under water to the depth of twelve feet, the task
was scarcely less difficult than that whose successful achievement has
helped to perpetuate the name and fame of Smeaton.
On the 7th of August 1807 the work was begun. The first stage was
the erection of a wooden workshop and residence for the artificers,
and this apparently simple operation occupied the whole season, the
supports having to be firmly fixed in holes dug out of the solid
rock. The hardness and compactness of the sandstone, however, soon
blunted their tools, and rendered necessary the constant employment
of a smith with his forge. But it often happened, says Mr. Stevenson,
to our annoyance and disappointment, in the early state of the work,
when the smith was in the middle of “a favourite heat,” and fashioning
some useful article, or sharpening the tools, after the flood-tide had
compelled the men to strike work, a sea would come rolling over the
rocks, dash out the fire, and endanger that indispensable implement,
the bellows; or, if the sea were smooth, while the smith often stood at
work knee-deep in the water, the tide rose imperceptibly, first cooling
the exterior of the fireplace, or hearth, and then quietly blackening
and extinguishing the fire from below. Mr. Stevenson was frequently
amused at the anxiety and perplexity of the unfortunate smith when
coaxing his fire, and endeavouring in vain to contend against the
rising tide. Obviously the work would go on but slowly, until the
workshop (also intended to serve as a beacon) was completed, and the
smith protected against the insidious waters.[36]
[36] Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” p. 125. To
prevent the repetition of useless references, we would here acknowledge
that in the following pages we have closely followed Mr. Stevenson’s
own narrative.
Dangers of a far more serious kind also beset the patient founders of
the Bell Rock Lighthouse.
On the 2nd of September, after the first cargo of stones had been
landed, and while thirty-two artificers were busily occupied in
their various departments of labour, a gale arose, and the attendant
vessel—named the _Smeaton_, after the great English engineer—broke
adrift from her moorings. This unfortunate circumstance, at first,
was known only to Mr. Stevenson and his landing-master, who fully
appreciated the gravity of the situation—thirty-two men on an insulated
rock, which, at flood-tide, lay twelve feet under water, with only two
boats at hand, and these not capable in foul weather of carrying more
than eight men each.
While the artisans were at work, chiefly in sitting and kneeling
postures, excavating the rock, or boring with the tools, and while the
din of their hammers and the clang of the smith’s forge filled the air,
there was sufficient life and motion in the scene to keep Stevenson’s
mind from fully realizing the dangers of his position. But by degrees
the water began to rise, and with slowly-swelling waves it gained upon
those engaged in work on the lower portions of the sites of the beacon
and lighthouse. From the run of the sea upon the rock, the forge-fire
was more quickly extinguished than usual; and the volumes of smoke
having ceased, the men at work could examine every object around.
After having had about three hour‘ work, the majority began to make
towards their respective boats for their jackets and stockings, when,
to their astonishment, instead of three boats, they found only two, the
third being adrift with the _Smeaton_. Not a word was uttered, but all
appeared to be silently calculating their numbers, while they gazed
from one to another with dismay and perplexity plainly painted on their
countenances. The landing-master, conceiving that he might be censured
for allowing the boat to quit the rock, remained at a distance, while
Mr. Stevenson placed himself on the most elevated crag, endeavouring to
track the progress of the _Smeaton_, and surprised that the crew did
not cut her boat adrift, as it greatly retarded her way. The workmen
looked steadfastly upon their engineer, occasionally turning towards
the vessel, which was still far to leeward.
All this took place in the most perfect silence, and the melancholy
solemnity of the scene was such that it produced an ineffaceable
impression on Mr. Stevenson’s mind.
In the meantime the engineer was meditating various schemes which might
be adopted for the general safety of the party. The most feasible
seemed to be, that as soon as the waves should reach the highest
summit of the rock, all should disembarrass themselves of their upper
garments; and while a certain number went on board each boat, the
remainder should hang by the gunwales, and the boats should row gently
towards the _Smeaton_, as the _Pharos_, or floating-light, lay too much
to the windward of the rock. Stevenson wished to propose this plan;
but, on attempting to speak, his mouth was so parched that his tongue
refused utterance, and he now learned by experience that the saliva is
as necessary as the tongue itself for speech. Turning to one of the
rock-pools, he lapped a little water, and obtained immediate relief.
But great was his joy, when, on rising from this unpleasant beverage, a
voice called out, “A boat! a boat!” and, on looking around, at no great
distance a large boat loomed through the deep, and was evidently making
for the rock. She proved to be a pilot-boat from Arbroath, express
with letters; and willingly taking on board Stevenson and his company,
rescued them from their critical position. In return for this service,
the pilot was pensioned by the Lighthouse Commissioners in his old age.
* * * * *
On the 6th of September, the whole company on board of the light-ship,
or _Pharos_, was surprised by a tremendous gale, which prevented them
from approaching the rock for ten days, and exposed them to real danger.
About two o’clock P.M., says Stevenson, a very heavy sea struck the
ship, flooded the deck, and poured into the berths below. Everybody
thought that she had foundered, and that their last moment had come.
Below deck total darkness prevailed; several of the artificers were
at prayer, repeating hymns, or uttering devout ejaculations; others
protested that if they should be fortunately spared to reach land once
more, no one would induce them to tempt the treacherous waves again.
Through the confusion Stevenson made his way upon deck. An astounding
spectacle met his gaze. The billows appeared to be ten or fifteen feet
in height of unbroken water, and each threatened the little vessel
with immediate destruction; but still, with wonderful buoyancy, she
continued to rise upon the waves, and escape their worst violence.
“On deck,” we are told,[37] “there was only one solitary individual
looking out to give the alarm, in the event of the ship breaking from
her moorings. The seamen on watch continued only two hours; he who kept
watch at this time was a tall, slender man of a black complexion; he
had no great-coat nor over-all of any kind, but was simply dressed in
his ordinary jacket and trousers; his hat was tied under his chin with
a napkin, and he stood aft the foremast, to which he had lashed himself
with a gasket, or small rope round his waist, to prevent his falling
upon deck or being washed overboard. When Mr. Stevenson looked up he
appeared to smile, which afforded a further symptom of the confidence
of the crew in their ship.”
[37] Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” p. 157.
About six o’clock in the evening the gale abated, and the sun rose the
next morning in a comparatively serene sky. The waves still rolled very
heavily, and at the Bell Rock they threw up their spray in columns of
from forty to fifty feet in height. When Mr. Stevenson was able to
visit the rock, he found abundant evidence of their force: six large
blocks of granite had been removed from their places and flung over
a rising ledge into a hole some twelve or fifteen paces distant. The
ash-pan of the smith’s forge, with its weighty cast-iron back, had
also been washed from their places of supposed security; the chain of
attachment had been broken, and these ponderous articles were found on
the very opposite side of the rock.
* * * * *
Such incidents as these stimulated Stevenson’s desire to complete the
erection of the beacon, which would serve as a warning to the mariner,
and as an asylum for the artificers on the rock. By dint of persevering
exertions, it was at length completed; and soon afterwards, on the 6th
of October 1807, the works were relinquished for the season. Though
only about one hundred and thirty-three hours had been actually devoted
to them, enough had been effected to afford an example of what may be
accomplished under similar circumstances, when every heart and hand
labour with conscientious zeal; for the artificers had wrought at the
construction of the beacon as if for life, or like men stopping a
breach in a wall to repress the inroads of a destroying flood.[38]
[38] Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” p. 180.
* * * * *
During the winter the men were engaged in quarrying and preparing the
stones, and collecting divers materials. The stones were laid down in
courses in the positions they would occupy in the future lighthouse;
they were then carefully numbered and marked, bored or fixed with
oaken trenails and stone joggles, after the plan adopted by Smeaton
in building the Eddystone lighthouse; and in this state laid aside for
trans-shipment to the rock.
* * * * *
The operations of the second season (1808) were commenced at as early
a date as the weather permitted. A new tender, the _Sir Joseph Banks_,
was provided for the reception of the men when not at work, and as
it lay alongside the rock, protected from the winds, the process of
landing or embarkation was conducted with very great facility.
The mode in which the different artificers were employed is thus
described by Mr. Stevenson[39]:—
“Preparations having been made for a second forge upon the beacon,
the smiths commenced their operations both upon the higher and lower
platforms, where forges had been erected. They were employed in
sharpening the picks and irons for the masons, and in making _bats_,
movable cranes, and other apparatus of various descriptions connected
with the railways. The landing-master’s crew were occupied in assisting
the mill-wrights in laying the railways to land. Sailors, of all
descriptions of men, are the most accommodating in the use of their
hands. They worked freely with the boring irons, and assisted in all
the operations of the railways, acting by turns as boatmen, seamen,
and artificers. We had no such character on the Bell Rock as the
common labourer. All the operations of this department were cheerfully
undertaken by the seamen, who, both on the rock and on shipboard, were
the inseparable companions of every work connected with the erection
of the Bell Rock Lighthouse. It will naturally be supposed, that
about twenty-five masons, occupied with their picks in executing and
preparing the foundation of the lighthouse, in the course of a tide of
about three hours, would make a considerable impression upon an area
even of forty-two feet in diameter. But in proportion as the foundation
was deepened, the rock was found to be much more hard and difficult
to work, while the baling and pumping of water became much more
troublesome. A joiner was kept almost constantly employed in fitting
the picks to their handles, which, as well as the points of the irons,
were very frequently broken. At eight o’clock the water overflowed the
site of the building, and the boats left the rock with all hands for
breakfast.”
[39] Stevenson, “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” pp. 222, 223.
The appearance of the rock at this time was very curious, and with its
effects of light and shade would have pleased the eye of a Rembrandt.
Its surface was thronged with men; the two forges flamed, one above the
other, like Cyclopean furnaces; while the anvils thundered with the
rebounding clash of their wooden supports, in strange contrast with the
noisy clamour of the ocean-surge. During the night, if the men were
at work, the spectacle presented to a passing vessel was of the most
picturesque character. To the artificers themselves, the effect of
extinguishing the torches was sometimes startling, and made terrible
the darkness of the night; while the sea, lit up with a phosphoric
glow, rolled in upon the rock like waves of fire.
As the enterprise proceeded, the smiths were sometimes left on the
beacon throughout the day, and the din of their anvils formed, in
foggy weather, an excellent guide for the boats. This circumstance
confirmed Mr. Stevenson’s opinion as to the propriety of erecting in
the lighthouse large bells to be rung by machinery, and tolled day and
night during the continuance of hazy weather, so as to prevent the
mariner from drawing too near the dangerous rock.
* * * * *
So much progress had been made in the preliminary operations by
the 10th of July, that on that day it was determined to lay the
foundation-stone. The ceremony attending it was very simple. Mr.
Stevenson, attended by his three assistants, applied the square,
the level, and the mallet in due form, and pronounced the following
benediction:—“May the Great Architect of the Universe complete and
bless this building!” Three earnest cheers were then given, and success
to the future operations was drunk with the greatest enthusiasm.
The first course of masonry was now laid down. It was only one foot
in thickness, yet it contained 508 cubic feet of granite in outward
casing; 8076 cubic feet of Mylnefield stone in the hearting; 104 tons
of solid contents; 132 superficial feet of hewing in the face-work;
4519 superficial feet of hewing in the beds, joints, and joggles;
420 lineal feet boring of trenail holes; 378 feet lineal cutting for
wedges; 246 oaken trenails; 378 oak wedges in pairs.
By the end of the season the lighthouse was raised to a level with the
highest part of the margin of the foundation-pit, or about 5½ feet
above the lower bed of the foundation-stone. Work was discontinued on
the 21st of September.
* * * * *
Months rolled away, and the third season in due time came round. The
artificers resumed their building operations, in 1809, on Saturday,
the 27th of May; and in spite of various accidents and delays, and
considerable obstruction from the inclemency of the weather, had so
far progressed by the end of June as to be able to continue their
labours on the masonry while the rock was under water. On the 8th of
July, it was remarked, with no small demonstrations of joy, that the
tide (a neap one) ceased for the first time to overflow the building
at high-water. Flags were accordingly hoisted at every vantage-point,
as well as on board the yacht, the tender, the stone-praams, and the
floating light; a salute of three guns was fired; and, we need hardly
say, the loudest and heartiest cheers pealed through the air and
mingled with the music of the waves.
It is unnecessary to follow, step by step, the operations of Stevenson
and his “undaunted band.” Such details would possess no interest for
the general reader; but he will understand how great must have been the
skill and perseverance of the engineer, how arduous the industry of all
engaged, when we record that by the 25th of August the solid part of
the building had been raised to the height of 31½ feet above the rock,
and of 17 feet above high-water of spring tides.
* * * * *
Having during two seasons landed and built up more than one thousand
four hundred tons of stone, while the work was low down in the water,
and before the beacon had been rendered inhabitable, and as not more
than seven hundred tons were required to complete the masonry, Mr.
Stevenson had good reason to conclude that another season would
consummate his enterprise. But the success of the work absolutely
depending on the stability of the beacon, he paid frequent visits to
the rock in the course of the winter, to see that it braved unhurt the
fury of winds and waves.
[Illustration: THE BUILDING OF THE BELL ROCK LIGHTHOUSE.]
The operations of the fourth and last season were commenced on the 10th
of May. The artificers took permanent possession of the beacon, which
consisted at this time of three floors—one occupied as the cook-house
and provision store; the second divided into two cabins, one for the
engineer and the other for the foreman; and the third provided with
three rows or tiers of beds, capable of accommodating about thirty
men. Below these three floors was a temporary floor, at the height of
twenty-five feet above the rock, used for preparing mortar, and for the
smith’s workshop. The beacon was connected with the lighthouse by a
bridge of timber.
The apartment which Mr. Stevenson himself occupied he has described in
characteristic language.
It measured, he says, not more than four feet three inches in breadth
on the floor; and though, from the oblique direction of the beams of
the building, it widened towards the top, yet it did not admit of
the full extension of his arms when he stood on the floor; while its
length was little more than sufficient for suspending a cot-bed during
the night. This was tied up to the roof during the day, leaving free
room for the admission of occasional visitants. His folding-table
was attached with hinges immediately under the small window of the
apartment, and his boots, barometer, thermometer, portmanteau, and two
or three camp-stools, formed the bulk of his movables. His diet being
plain, the paraphernalia of the table were proportionately simple;
though everything had the appearance of comfort, and even of neatness,
the walls being covered with green cloth, formed into panels with red
tape, and his bed festooned with curtains of yellow cotton-stuff. If,
in speculating upon the abstract wants of man in such a seclusion, one
were reduced to a single book, the Sacred Volume, whether considered
for the striking diversity of its story, the morality of its doctrines,
or the important truths of its gospel, would have proved by far the
greatest treasure.
* * * * *
In the early part of July, a visit was paid to the works by Mrs.
Dickson, the only daughter and surviving relative of Smeaton, the
great engineer. She was conveyed to the rock on board the _Smeaton_
tender, which had been so named by Stevenson from a sense of the deep
obligation he owed to the labours and abilities of his predecessor. It
is unnecessary to say that she was exceedingly gratified by her visit.
* * * * *
Passing over the daily details of the work, we arrive at the 29th of
July, as one of the epoch days of the undertaking. The _last stone_
was landed on the Bell Rock, and you may be sure such an occasion was
duly celebrated. On the 30th, the _last course_ (the 90th) of the
building was laid, finishing the exterior wall, and the engineer then
solemnly pronounced a suitable benediction: “May the Great Architect of
the Universe, under whose blessing this perilous work has prospered,
preserve it as a guide to the mariner!”
[Illustration: BELL ROCK LIGHTHOUSE.]
With the minute particulars recorded by Stevenson of the completion of
the interior of the building, it is needless to weary the reader. Their
technicalities would puzzle him, and in their prolonged detail we can
find nothing to excite his interest. He will understand that Stevenson
neglected nothing which could ensure the safety and efficiency of
his structure, and on the 17th of December 1810, the following
advertisement intimated to the public that his enterprise had been
successful, and that thenceforth the perils of the Bell Rock would
virtually cease to exist:—
“A lighthouse having been erected upon the Inch Cape, or Bell Rock,
situated at the entrance of the Firths of Forth and Tay, in north
latitude 56° 29´ and west longitude 2° 22´,—The Commissioners of the
Northern Lighthouses hereby give notice, that the light will be from
oil, with reflectors, placed at the height of about 108 feet above
the medium level of the sea. The light will be exhibited on the night
of Friday, the 1st day of February 1811, and each night thereafter,
from the going away of daylight in the evening until the return of
daylight in the morning. To distinguish this light from others on the
coast, it is made to revolve horizontally, and to exhibit a bright
light of the natural appearance, and a red-coloured light alternately,
both respectively attaining their greatest strength, or most luminous
effect, in the space of every four minutes; during that period the
bright light will, to a distant observer, appear like a star of the
first magnitude, which after attaining its full strength is gradually
eclipsed to total darkness, and is succeeded by the red-coloured light,
which in like manner increases to full strength, and again diminishes
and disappears. The coloured light, however, being less powerful, may
not be seen for a time after the bright light is first observed. During
the continuance of foggy weather, and showers of snow, a bell will be
tolled by machinery, night and day, at intervals of half a minute.”
It was found that this light could be clearly seen and recognized, in
fair weather, at a distance of seven leagues.
The Bell Rock Lighthouse, thus happily completed, is a circular
building, 42 feet in diameter at the base, and 13 feet at the top.
The masonry is 100 feet high, and the whole structure, including the
light-room, 115 feet. From the entrance door, a circular stair leads to
the first apartment, which is used as a store-room. Wooden steps ascend
to the other apartments, which are appropriated to the light-keepers,
and to the appurtenances of the lighting apparatus. The light-room,
which is formed of cast iron, and glazed with polished glass, is
octagonal in shape, 12 feet in diameter, and 15 feet in height. It is
covered with a dome, and terminates in a ball.
The manner in which this noble structure braves the assault of waters
has been graphically described by Mr. Stevenson. It is during the
winter’s storms, he says, and when viewed from the Forfarshire coast,
that it appears in one of its most interesting aspects, standing
proudly among the waves, while the sea around it is in the wildest
state of agitation. The light-keepers do not seem to be in motion,
but the scene is by no means still, as the clang and clamour, the
motion and fury of the waves, are incessant. The seas rise in the most
surprising fashion to the height of about seventy feet above the rock,
and after expending their force in a perpendicular direction, fall in
foaming masses round the base of the lighthouse, while considerable
portions of the spray seem to adhere, as it were, to the building, and
gather down its sides in the condition of froth as white as snow. Some
of the great waves burst and are expended upon the rock before they
reach the lighthouse; while others strike the base, and embracing the
walls, meet on the western side, where the violent collision churns
the eddying waters into the wildest foam.
* * * * *
The management of the Bell Rock lighthouse is provided for as
follows:—The nearest town is Arbroath, about eleven miles distant,
where a cutter called the _Pharos_ is stationed as the lighthouse
tender. Once a fortnight, or in the course of each set of spring-tides,
she visits the rock, to relieve the light-keepers and replenish their
store of provisions and fuel. The keepers are four in number, three
of whom are always on duty, while one is ashore. If the weather be
favourable, each light-keeper is six weeks on the rock, and a fortnight
on land with his family. The pay is from £50 to £60 per annum, with a
stated allowance of bread, beef, butter, oatmeal, vegetables, and small
beer, and fourpence a day extra for tea. A suit of uniform is also
provided once in three years.
The watches in the light-room are relieved with as much punctuality
as on board a man-of-war, no keeper being allowed to leave until his
successor presents himself, under the penalty of immediate dismissal.
To ensure the strictest regularity in this respect, a timepiece is
placed in each light-room, and bells are hung in the bed-rooms of the
dwelling-houses, which, being connected by mechanical appliances with
the lighthouse, can be rung as necessity requires.
At Arbroath, as at other stations, the light-keeper‘ dwellings are
very neatly built and comfortably arranged, each having its little
garden attached. There are also suitable storehouses provided, a room
for the master and crew of the lighthouse tender, and a signal-tower
fifty feet high, on whose summit a small observatory is erected,
with an excellent achromatic telescope, a flag-staff, and a copper
signal-ball measuring eighteen feet in diameter. A similar ball crowns
the lighthouse dome, and by these means daily signals are exchanged,
to signify that all is well. Should the ball at the top be allowed to
remain down, as is the case when particular supplies are needed, or
either of the light-keepers have been seized with illness, assistance
is immediately dispatched in the tender.
The total cost of the lighthouse, of the buildings at Arbroath, of the
tender, and the first year’s stores, was £61,350.
A curious accident is recorded in connection with the lighthouse as
having occurred on the 9th of February 1832, about ten o’clock P.M.
A large herring-gull flew against one of the south-eastern mullions of
the light-room with so much violence that two of the polished plates of
glass, measuring each about two feet square and a quarter of an inch
thick, were dashed to atoms, and scattered over the floor, to the great
alarm of the keeper on watch, and of his two associates, who rushed
instantly into the light-room. It happened, fortunately, that although
one of the red-shaded sides of the reflector-frame was passing in its
revolution at the moment, the fragments were so minute that no injury
was done to the valuable red glass. The gull was found to measure five
feet from tip to tip of its expanded wings. A large herring was found
in its gullet, and in its throat a piece of plate glass about an inch
in length.[40]
[40] “Smeaton and Lighthouses,” p. 97.
Before quitting the subject of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, it is
desirable we should refer to another of Mr. Stevenson’s achievements,
the Beacon on the Carr rock. The Carr is the seaward extremity of a
sunken reef, visible only at low water, which extends about two miles
from the shore of Fifeness, on the northern side of the mouth of the
Forth estuary. Its position is unusually dangerous, as it lies in the
track of shipping ascending and descending Scotland’s great eastern
river. In the course of nine years it proved fatal to no fewer than
sixteen vessels. As all attempts had failed to mark its position by a
floating buoy, the authorities resolved to erect a beacon of masonry
upon it, and in 1813 the difficult work was commenced under Mr.
Stevenson’s direction. The dimensions of the Carr are only 23 feet in
breadth by 15 feet in length, and it was impossible, therefore, to
obtain a base for a building of greater diameter than 18 feet.
Five seasons were spent in the erection of the beacon, so many were
the obstacles which the workmen had to conquer, especially from the
prevalence of rolling seas and stormy winds. In the fifth year, when
the whole of the masonry had been completed, a November hurricane swept
away the upper part of the structure. A modification of the original
design was then adopted; and on the courses of masonry left intact by
wind and waves six columns of cast iron were planted, terminating in a
cast iron ball of three feet in diameter, which rose about twenty-five
feet above the average sea-level. The whole was completed in the sixth
season (September 1821).[41]
[41] Stevenson’s “Account of the Bell Rock Lighthouse,” pp. 52-57.
The Carr rock is about six miles north-north-east of the Isle of May
lighthouse, and twelve miles south-west of the Bell Rock.
In a recent pamphlet,[42] Mr. Thomas Stevenson, the engineer to the
Board of Northern Lights—who has an hereditary as well as an individual
claim to be heard on all matters of this kind—has suggested various
modes of lighting beacons and buoys. As he observes, the importance of
raising them to the rank of illuminated night-marks must be apparent
to all who know anything of coast navigation; and he is certainly
justified in thinking that the subject is worthy of more attention than
has hitherto been given to it.
[42] Stevenson, “Proposals for the Illumination of Beacons and Buoys”
(ed. 1870).
He speaks, in the first place, of _apparent_ or _borrowed lights_,
where a ray is thrown on a buoy or beacon—as in the case of the Arnish
Rock, referred to on page 274,—from a neighbouring lighthouse. The
only other existing example of an apparent light is to be found at the
harbour of Odessa, in the Black Sea. It was constructed in 1866, and is
situated three hundred feet from the shore.
Mr. Stevenson’s next suggestion applies to _dipping lights for sunk
rocks_, where it would be difficult or impossible to erect a beacon for
containing the necessary optical apparatus. Here he would so arrange
the lamp and reflectors of the lighthouse as to dip vertically, and
thus project a cone of rays upon the sea for a considerable area round
the secret danger. On seeing the illuminated wave-space the mariner
would alter his course, and give the sunken rock a “wide berth.”
The other methods proposed by Mr. Stevenson are:—
The conduction either of voltaic, magnetic, or frictional electricity,
singly or combined, to the buoy or beacon, through wires, submarine,
or, where practicable, suspended in the air, so as to produce a spark
either with or without vacuum tubes, or by means of an electro-magnet
and the deflagration of mercury.
The conduction of gas from the shore in submarine pipes.
Self-acting electrical apparatus, produced by the action of sea-water
or otherwise at the beacon itself, so as to require no connection with
the shore.
And, finally, Mr. Stevenson recommends different applications of sound,
so as to produce distinct and powerfully audible warnings during the
prevalence of a thick fog or mist:—
The propagation of sound during fogs through pipes communicating with
the shore,[43] or the origination of sound at the beacon or buoy
itself, by condensing the column of air, or by acting on a column of
water contained in the pipe.
[43] In one of the Paris water-pipes, 3120 feet long, M. Biot was able
to keep up a conversation, in a very low tone, with a person at the
other end.
Bells rung by electricity. Mr. Wilde, of Manchester, states that bells
twelve or eighteen inches in diameter, placed on different beacons, and
as far off as ten miles from the shore, could be tolled a hundred times
a-minute by means of a three and a half or four inch electro-magnetic
machine worked by an engine of about two-horse power.
And, finally, bells may be rung by the simple pressure of the waves
through the agency of a float, which would sink or rise according as
the tide sunk or rose. This was proposed for the beacon at the Carr
Rock by the late Mr. Stevenson in 1810.
By the adoption of one or other of these suggestions, according to the
conditions of the locality, there can be no doubt that the subsidiary
illumination of our shores and their contiguous waters would be very
considerably improved.
[Illustration]