THE LIGHTHOUSE COMPLETED--RUBY'S ESCAPE FROM TROUBLE BY A DESPERATE
VENTURE.
There came a time at last when the great work of building the Bell Rock
Lighthouse drew to a close. Four years after its commencement it was
completed, and on the night of the 1st of February, 1811, its bright
beams were shed for the first time far and wide over the sea.
It must not be supposed, however, that this lighthouse required four
years to build it. On the contrary, the seasons in which work could be
done were very short. During the whole of the first season of 1807, the
aggregate time of low-water work, caught by snatches of an hour or two
at a tide, did not amount to fourteen days of ten hours! while in 1808
it fell short of four weeks.
A great event is worthy of very special notice. We should fail in our
duty to our readers if we were to make only passing reference to this
important event in the history of our country.
That 1st of February, 1811, was the birthday of a new era, for the
influence of the Bell Rock Light on the shipping interests of the
kingdom (not merely of Scotland, by any means), was far greater than
people generally suppose.
Here is a _fact_ that may well be weighed with attention; that might be
not inappropriately inscribed in diamond letters over the lintel of the
lighthouse door. Up to the period of the building of the lighthouse,
the known history of the Bell Rock was a black record of wreck, ruin,
and death. Its unknown history, in remote ages, who shall conceive,
much less tell? _Up_ to that period, seamen dreaded the rock and
shunned it--ay, so earnestly as to meet destruction too often in their
anxious efforts to avoid it. _From_ that period the Bell Rock has been
a friendly point, a guiding star--hailed as such by storm-tossed
mariners--marked as such on the charts of all nations. _From_ that date
not a single night for more than half a century has passed, without its
wakeful eye beaming on the waters, or its fog-bells sounding on the air;
and, best of all, _not a single wreck has occurred on that rock from
that period down to the present day_!
Say not, good reader, that much the same may be said of all lighthouses.
In the first place, the history of many lighthouses is by no means so
happy as that of this one. In the second place, all lighthouses are not
of equal importance. Few stand on an equal footing with the Bell Rock,
either in regard to its national importance or its actual pedestal. In
the last place, it is our subject of consideration at present, and we
object to odious comparisons while we sing its praises!
Whatever may be said of the other lights that guard our shores, special
gratitude is due to the Bell Rock--to those who projected it--to the
engineer who planned and built it--to God, who inspired the will to
dare, and bestowed the skill to accomplish, a work so difficult, so
noble, so prolific of good to man!
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The nature of our story requires that we should occasionally annihilate
time and space.
Let us then leap over both, and return to our hero, Ruby Brand.
His period of service in the Navy was comparatively brief, much more so
than either he or his friends anticipated. Nevertheless, he spent a
considerable time in his new profession, and, having been sent to
foreign stations, he saw a good deal of what is called "service", in
which he distinguished himself, as might have been expected, for
coolness and courage.
But we must omit all mention of his warlike deeds, and resume the record
of his history at that point which bears more immediately on the subject
of our tale.
It was a wild, stormy night in November. Ruby's ship had captured a
French privateer in the German Ocean, and, a prize crew having been put
aboard, she was sent away to the nearest port, which happened to be the
harbour of Leith, in the Firth of Forth. Ruby had not been appointed
one of the prize crew; but he resolved not to miss the chance of again
seeing his native town, if it should only be a distant view through a
telescope. Being a favourite with his commander, his plea was received
favourably, and he was sent on board the Frenchman.
Those who know what it is to meet with an unexpected piece of great good
fortune, can imagine the delight with which Ruby stood at the helm on
the night in question, and steered for _home_! He was known by all on
board to be the man who understood best the navigation of the Forth, so
that implicit trust was placed in him by the young officer who had
charge of the prize.
The man-of-war happened to be short-handed at the time the privateer was
captured, owing to her boats having been sent in chase of a suspicious
craft during a calm. Some of the French crew were therefore left on
board to assist in navigating the vessel.
This was unfortunate, for the officer sent in charge turned out to be a
careless man, and treated the Frenchmen with contempt. He did not keep
strict watch over them, and the result was, that, shortly after the
storm began, they took the English crew by surprise, and overpowered
them.
Ruby was the first to fall. As he stood at the wheel, indulging in
pleasant dreams, a Frenchman stole up behind him, and felled him with a
handspike. When he recovered he found that he was firmly bound, along
with his comrades, and that the vessel was lying-to. One of the
Frenchmen came forward at that moment, and addressed the prisoners in
broken English.
"Now, me boys," said he, "you was see we have konker you again. You
behold the sea?" pointing over the side; "well, that bees your bed
to-night if you no behave. Now, I wants to know, who is best man of you
as onderstand die cost? Speak de trut', else you die."
The English lieutenant at once turned to Ruby.
"Well, cast him loose; de rest of you go b'low--good day, ver' moch
indeed."
Here the Frenchman made a low bow to the English, who were led below,
with the exception of Ruby.
"Now, my goot mans, you onderstand dis cost?"
"Yes. I know it well."
"It is dangereoux?"
"It is--very; but not so much so as it used to be before the Bell Rock
Light was shown."
"Have you see dat light?"
"No; never. It was first lighted when I was at sea; but I have seen a
description of it in the newspapers, and should know it well."
"Ver goot; you will try to come to dat light an' den you will steer out
from dis place to de open sea. Afterwards we will show you to France.
If you try mischief--voila!"
The Frenchman pointed to two of his comrades who stood, one on each side
of the wheel, with pistols in their hands, ready to keep Ruby in order.
"Now, cut him free. Go, sare; do your dooty."
Ruby stepped to the wheel at once, and, glancing at the compass,
directed the vessel's head in the direction of the Bell Rock.
The gale was rapidly increasing, and the management of the helm required
his undivided attention; nevertheless his mind was busy with anxious
thoughts and plans of escape. He thought with horror of a French
prison, for there were old shipmates of his who had been captured years
before, and who were pining in exile still. The bare idea of being
separated indefinitely, perhaps for ever, from Minnie, was so terrible,
that for a moment he meditated an attack, single-handed, on the crew;
but the muzzle of a pistol on each side of him induced him to pause and
reflect! Reflection, however, only brought him again to the verge of
despair. Then he thought of running up to Leith, and so take the
Frenchmen prisoners; but this idea was at once discarded, for it was
impossible to pass up to Leith Roads without seeing the Bell Rock light,
and the Frenchmen kept a sharp lookout. Then he resolved to run the
vessel ashore and wreck her, but the thought of his comrades down below
induced him to give that plan up.
Under the influence of these thoughts he became inattentive, and steered
rather wildly once or twice.
"Stiddy. Ha! you tink of how you escape?"
"Yes, I do," said Ruby, doggedly.
"Good, and have you see how?"
"No," replied Ruby, "I tell you candidly that I can see no way of
escape."
"Ver good, sare; mind your helm."
At that moment a bright star of the first magnitude rose on the horizon,
right ahead of them.
"Ha! dat is a star," said the Frenchman, after a few moments'
observation of it.
"Stars don't go out," replied Ruby, as the light in question
disappeared.
"It is de light'ouse den?"
"I don't know," said Ruby, "but we shall soon see."
Just then a thought flashed into Ruby's mind. His heart beat quick, his
eye dilated, and his lip was tightly compressed as it came and went.
Almost at the same moment another star rose right ahead of them. It was
of a deep red colour; and Ruby's heart beat high again, for he was now
certain that it was the revolving light of the Bell Rock, which shows a
white and red light alternately every two minutes.
"_Voila_! that must be him now," exclaimed the Frenchman, pointing to
the light, and looking enquiringly at Ruby.
"I have told you," said the latter, "that I never saw the light before.
I believe it to be the Bell Rock Light; but it would be as well to run
close and see. I think I could tell the very stones of the tower, even
in a dark night. Anyhow, I know the rock itself too well to mistake
it."
"Be there plenty watter?"
"Ay; on the east side, close to the rock, there is enough water to float
the biggest ship in your navy."
"Good; we shall go close."
There was a slight lull in the gale at this time, and the clouds broke a
little, allowing occasional glimpses of moonlight to break through and
tinge the foaming crests of the waves. At last the light, that had at
first looked like a bright star, soon increased, and appeared like a
glorious sun in the stormy sky. For a few seconds it shone intensely
white and strong, then it slowly died away and disappeared; but almost
before one could have time to wonder what had become of it, it returned
in the form of a brilliant red sun, which also shone for a few seconds,
steadily, and then, like the former, slowly died out. Thus,
alternating, the red and white suns went round.
In a few minutes the tall and graceful column itself became visible,
looking pale and spectral against the black sky. At the same time the
roar of the surf broke familiarly on Ruby's ears. He steered close past
the north end of the rock, so close that he could see the rocks, and
knew that it was low water. A gleam of moonlight broke out at the time,
as if to encourage him.
"Now," said Ruby, "you had better go about, for if we carry on at this
rate, in the course we are going, in about an hour you will either be a
dead man on the rocks of Forfar, or enjoying yourself in a Scotch
prison!"
"Ha! ha!" laughed the Frenchman, who immediately gave the order to put
the vessel about; "good, ver good; bot I was not wish to see the
Scottish prison, though I am told the mountains be ver superb."
While he was speaking, the little vessel lay over on her new course, and
Ruby steered again past the north side of the rock. He shaved it so
close that the Frenchman shouted, "_Prenez garde_," and put a pistol to
Ruby's ear.
"Do you think I wish to die?" asked Ruby, with a quiet smile. "Now,
captain, I want to point out the course, so as to make you sure of it.
Bid one of your men take the wheel, and step up on the bulwarks with me,
and I will show you."
This was such a natural remark in the circumstances, and moreover so
naturally expressed, that the Frenchman at once agreed. He ordered a
seaman to take the wheel, and then stepped with Ruby upon the bulwarks
at the stern of the vessel.
"Now, you see the position of the lighthouse," said Ruby, "well, you
must keep your course due east after passing it. If you steer to the
nor'ard o' that, you'll run on the Scotch coast; if you bear away to the
south'ard of it, you'll run a chance, in this state o' the tide, of
getting wrecked among the Farne Islands; so keep her head _due east_."
Ruby said this very impressively; so much so, that the Frenchman looked
at him in surprise.
"Why you so particulare?" he enquired, with a look of suspicion.
"Because I am going to leave you," said Ruby, pointing to the Bell Rock,
which at that moment was not much more than a hundred yards to leeward.
Indeed, it was scarcely so much, for the outlying rock at the northern
end named _Johnny Gray_, lay close under their lee as the vessel passed.
Just then a great wave burst upon it, and, roaring in wild foam over
the ledges, poured into the channels and pools on the other side. For
one instant Ruby's courage wavered, as he gazed at the flood of boiling
foam.
"What you say?" exclaimed the Frenchman, laying his hand on the collar
of Ruby's jacket.
The young sailor started, struck the Frenchman a backhanded blow on the
chest, which hurled him violently against the man at the wheel, and,
bending down, sprang with a wild shout into the sea.
So close had he steered to the rock, in order to lessen the danger of
his reckless venture, that the privateer just weathered it. There was
not, of course, the smallest chance of recapturing Ruby. No ordinary
boat could have lived in the sea that was running at the time, even in
open water, much less among the breakers of the Bell Rock. Indeed, the
crew felt certain that the English sailor had allowed despair to
overcome his judgment, and that he must infallibly be dashed to pieces
on the rocks, so they did not check their onward course, being too glad
to escape from the immediate neighbourhood of such a dangerous spot.
Meanwhile Ruby buffeted the billows manfully. He was fully alive to the
extreme danger of the attempt, but he knew exactly what he meant to do.
He trusted to his intimate knowledge of every ledge and channel and
current, and had calculated his motions to a nicety.
He knew that at the particular state of the tide at the time, and with
the wind blowing as it then did, there was a slight eddy at the point of
_Cunningham's Ledge_. His life, he felt, depended on his gaining that
eddy. If he should miss it, he would be dashed against _Johnny Gray's_
rock, or be carried beyond it and cast upon _Strachan's Ledge_ or
_Scoreby's Point_, and no man, however powerful he might be, could have
survived the shock of being launched on any of these rocks. On the
other hand, if, in order to avoid these dangers, he should swim too much
to windward, there was danger of his being carried on the crest of a
billow and hurled upon the weather-side of _Cunningham's Ledge_, instead
of getting into the eddy under its lee.
All this Ruby had seen and calculated when he passed the north end of
the rock the first time, and he had fixed the exact spot where he should
take the plunge on repassing it. He acted so promptly that a few
minutes sufficed to carry him towards the eddy, the tide being in his
favour. But when he was about to swim into it, a wave burst completely
over the ledge, and, pouring down on his head, thrust him back. He was
almost stunned by the shock, but retained sufficient presence of mind to
struggle on. For a few seconds he managed to bear up against wind and
tide, for he put forth his giant strength with the energy of a desperate
man, but gradually he was carried away from the rock, and for the first
time his heart sank within him.
Just then one of those rushes or swirls of water, which are common among
rocks in such a position, swept him again forward, right into the eddy
which he had struggled in vain to reach, and thrust him violently
against the rock. This back current was the precursor of a tremendous
billow, which came towering on like a black moving wall. Ruby saw it,
and, twining his arm amongst the seaweed, held his breath.
The billow fell! Only those who have seen the Bell Rock in a storm can
properly estimate the roar that followed. None but Ruby himself could
tell what it was to feel that world of water rushing overhead. Had it
fallen directly upon him, it would have torn him from his grasp and
killed him, but its full force had been previously spent on
_Cunningham's Ledge_. In another moment it passed, and Ruby, quitting
his hold, struck out wildly through the foam. A few strokes carried him
through _Sinclair's_ and _Wilson's_ tracks into the little pool formerly
mentioned as _Port Stevenson_.
[The author has himself bathed in Port Stevenson, so that the reader may
rely on the fidelity of this description of it and the surrounding
ledges.]
Here he was in comparative safety. True, the sprays burst over the
ledge called _The Last Hope_ in heavy masses, but these could do him no
serious harm, and it would take a quarter of an hour at least for the
tide to sweep into the pool. Ruby therefore swam quietly to _Trinity
Ledge_, where he landed, and, stepping over it, sat down to rest, with a
thankful heart, on _Smith's Ledge_, the old familiar spot where he and
Jamie Dove had wrought so often and so hard at the forge in former days.
He was now under the shadow of the Bell Rock Lighthouse, which towered
high above his head; and the impression of immovable solidity which its
cold, grey, stately column conveyed to his mind, contrasted powerfully
with the howling wind and the raging sea around. It seemed to him, as
he sat there within three yards of its granite base, like the
impersonation of repose in the midst of turmoil; of peace surrounded by
war; of calm and solid self-possession in the midst of fretful and
raging instability.
No one was there to welcome Ruby. The lightkeepers, high up in the
apartments in their wild home, knew nothing and heard nothing of all
that had passed so near them. The darkness of the night and the roaring
of the storm was all they saw or heard of the world without, as they sat
in their watch tower reading or trimming their lamps.
But Ruby was not sorry for this; he felt glad to be alone with God, to
thank Him for his recent deliverance.
Exhausting though the struggle had been, its duration was short, so that
he soon recovered his wonted strength. Then, rising, he got upon the
iron railway, or "rails", as the men used to call it, and a few steps
brought him to the foot of the metal ladder conducting to the
entrance-door.
Climbing up, he stood at last in a place of safety, and disappeared
within the doorway of the lighthouse.