While the building of the new lighthouse was being thus calmly discussed
on shore, out at the Eddystone the wild waves were lashing themselves
into fierce fury, as if they had got wind of what was being done, and
had hurried from all ends of the sea to interdict proceedings. In
hurrying to the field of battle these wild waves indulged in a little of
their favourite pastime. They caught up two unfortunate vessels--a
large West Indiaman and a man-of-war's tender--and bore them
triumphantly towards the fatal Rock. It seemed as though the waves
regarded these as representative vessels, and meant thus to cast the
royal and the merchant navies on the Eddystone, by way, as it were, of
throwing down the gauntlet to presumptuous Man.
For want of the famous light the vessels bore straight down upon the
Rock, and the wild waves danced and laughed, and displayed their white
teeth and their seething ire, as if in exultation at the thought of the
shattered hulls and mangled corpses, which they hoped ere long to toss
upon their crests.
Fortunately, Man was on the "look out!" The _Buss_ was tugging at her
moorings off the Rock, and some of the seamen and hands were
perambulating the deck, wishing for settled weather, and trying to
pierce the gloom by which they were surrounded. Suddenly the two
vessels were seen approaching. The alarm was given. Those on board the
doomed ships saw their danger when too late, and tried to sheer off the
fatal spot, but their efforts were fruitless. The exulting waves
hurried them irresistibly on. In this extremity the Eddystone men
leaped into their yawl, pushed off, and succeeded in towing both vessels
out of danger; at once demonstrating the courage of English hearts and
the need there was for English hands to complete the work on which they
were then engaged.
Next day Mr Smeaton came off to visit the Rock, and the news of the
rescue served him for a text on which to preach a lay-sermon as to the
need of every man exerting himself to the uttermost in a work which was
so obviously a matter of life and death. It was, however, scarcely
necessary to urge these men, for they were almost all willing. But not
all; in nearly every flock there is a black sheep or so, that requires
weeding out. There were two such sheep among the builders of the
Eddystone. Being good at everything, Smeaton was a good weeder. He
soon had them up by the roots and cast out. A foreman proved to be
disorderly, and tried to make the men promise, "that if he should be
discharged they would all follow him." Smeaton at once assembled the
men and gave orders that such of them as had any dependence on, or
attachment to, the refractory foreman, should take up his tools and
follow him. Only one did so--the rest stood firm.
At this time the weather was very unsettled, and the work progressed
slowly. Once or twice it was still further retarded, by men who should
have known better, in the following manner:
One evening one of the lighthouse boats was boarded by a cutter, the
officer in charge of which proceeded to "impress" several of the men
into the navy.
"It's to be pressed we are," murmured Teddy Maroon to one of his mates,
in a vexed tone, "sure the tater-heads might know we've got an Admiralty
protection."
Whether the officer knew this or not, it was evident that he had
overheard the remark, for, after selecting two of the best men, he
turned, and, pointing to Maroon, said aloud:--
"Let that tater-head also jump on board. He's not worth much, but the
service is in want of powder-monkeys just now. Perhaps he'll do. If
not, I'll send him back."
Thus was the poor Irishman carried off with his two mates to fight the
battles of his country! In a few days, however, they were all sent
back, and the indiscreet officer who had impressed them got a reprimand
for his pains. After the first season they had no further interruptions
from this source.
Large mainsails were given them for their boats, with a lighthouse
painted on each, and every man obtained besides a silver medal of
exemption from impressment.
But this was only the commencement of poor Teddy's "throubles" at that
time. He had scarcely returned to his work when a new one overtook him.
This was, however, in the way of business.
"Teddy, my fine fellow," said Richardson, the foreman, as they stood on
the deck of the _Buss_ holding on to the mizzen shrouds, "it's quite
clear to me that with the wind dead against them like this, the relief
boat with Hill's company won't be able to get off, and as we're short of
provisions, I mean to take the big yawl and go ashore with my gang. As
the best men are always chosen for posts of danger, I shall leave you in
charge of the _Buss_ with two hands--Smart and Bowden;--both stanch
fellows as you know."
"I'm your servant, sir," said Teddy, "only if the best men are wanted
here, hadn't you better stop yourself, an' I'll take the rest ashore?"
Richardson did not see his way to this, though he acknowledged the
compliment, and that evening Teddy found himself in command of the
despised _Buss_, with half a gale blowing, and, as he observed, "more
where that came from."
Teddy was right, "more" did come, and kept him and his mates idle
prisoners for a week. Indeed the whole of that month had been so stormy
that from the 16th to the 30th only twenty hours' work had been done on
the Rock.
During six days the three men stuck to their post, but at the end of
that time Teddy called a council of war.
"Gintlemen," said he, "(for men in our pursition must be purlite to sich
other), it's our dooty to stick by this here tub so long's it's of any
use to do so; but as she seems to be well able to look after herself,
an' our purvisions has come down to the last ounce, it's my opinion--
founded on profound meditations over me last pipe--that we'd better go
ashore."
To this speech John Bowden replied "I'm agreeable, for it's not my dooty
to starve myself."