Thus Mr. Winstanley’s lighthouse was completed in 1700, and though destined to remain but a short time, it was a most important and heroic step accomplished. Mankind were now convinced that the erection of a building upon the Eddystone rocks was not an impracticable thing, though long deemed so; and if experience now proved that the shock of the surges was augmented, by the interposition of the building, to a furious extent, it also led the way to further trials and expedients to counteract that shock.
In November 1703 Mr. Winstanley went down to Plymouth to superintend some repairs that had become necessary to the lighthouse; and when he was about to proceed with his workmen to the spot, some of his friends, convinced from the structure of the lighthouse that it could not last long, ventured to intimate their suspicions to him, and to warn him of danger. His reply was, that he felt so convinced of the strength of his building, that he only wished he might be there in the greatest storm that ever blew under the face of heaven, that he might see what effect it would have upon the structure. It is painful to record this presumptuous wish, and still more so to relate its fulfilment.
Mr. Winstanley with his work-people and light-keepers had taken up their abode at the lighthouse, when a dreadful storm began, and in the night of the 26th of November reached a terrific height. Indeed of all the accounts which history furnishes of storms in Great Britain, none is to be found of a more awful and devastating nature than this. Plymouth itself suffered severely; and when morning came, and the height of the tempest was past, there was an eager look out in the direction of the lighthouse, to see what injury it might have sustained. But the waters rushed on over the Eddystone rocks, no longer impeded by the lofty structure that had been reared with such pains and cost. Winstanley, his work-people, his light-keepers, his boasted structure—all had been swept away by the resistless fury of the winds and waves; and not only this, but a homeward-bound vessel, the ‘Winchelsea,’ deprived of the warning light that might have averted her fate, struck upon these rocks, and lost nearly her whole crew. This lamentable event is detailed in most of the public papers of the day; and the loss to the nation, as it respected Winstanley himself, who was deemed the only person able to reconstruct the edifice, deeply deplored.
Three years elapsed ere the necessary steps were taken fur commencing anew this most useful work. It appears from this that some obstructions to the undertaking were offered, since it was not until the 4th of Queen Anne that an Act of Parliament was obtained for the better enabling the Master, Wardens, and Assistants of Trinity House, Deptford Strand, to rebuild the Lighthouse. The act runs thus: ‘And whereas there now is, and time out of mind has been, a very dangerous rock, called the Edystone lying off of Plymouth, in the county of Devon, upon which divers ships and vessels have been cast away and destroyed: and whereas upon application some time since made to the said Master, Wardens, and Assistants, by great numbers of masters and owners of shipping to have a lighthouse erected upon the said rock, offering and agreeing in consequence of the great charge, difficulty, and hazard of such an undertaking, to pay the said Master, &c. one penny per ton outwards, and the like inwards, for all ships and vessels which should pass such lighthouse, (coasters excepted, which should pay twelve pence only for each voyage,) they, the said Master, &c. having a due regard to the safety and preservation of the shipping and navigation of this kingdom, did in the year 1696 cause a lighthouse to be begun to be erected upon the said rock, and in three years a light was placed therein; and the said lighthouse in the term of five years was with much hazard and difficulty, and at a very great expense, fully built and completed, to the great satisfaction of the flag-officers and commanders of the fleet and ships of war, and of all other concerned in trade and navigation, the same being not only useful for avoiding the dangerous rock upon which it was built, but also as a guide and direction to ships passing through the channel from and to all parts of the world. And whereas the said lighthouse was preserved and kept up for several years, notwithstanding the great force and violence of the wind and sea, (to which it was exposed,) until the late dreadful storm in November 1703, when the same was blown down and destroyed: and whereas it was found by experience that the said lighthouse (during the standing thereof) was of public use and benefit to this kingdom, a means to preserve her Majesty’s ships of war, and the shipping, lives, and estates of her subjects. And forasmuch as the speedy rebuilding the said lighthouse is absolutely necessary for avoiding the dangers attending the trade and navigation of this kingdom, and in regard the same work is of great charge, hazard, and expense, and all due and proper encouragement ought to be given thereto; to the end therefore that the said Master, &c. may be encouraged to new-erect and build, or cause to be new-erected and built, the said lighthouse with all convenient speed, and constantly keep and maintain the same for the benefit of the navigation and trade of this kingdom, be it enacted, &c.’ It then proceeds to enact the payment of the duties above mentioned, and double on foreign vessels, ‘from and after the kindling or placing a light useful for shipping in the said lighthouse.’ In 1706 a lease of ninety-nine years was granted by the corporation of Trinity House to a Captain Lovet, who undertook the management of the affairs connected with the building. The choice Captain Lovet made of an engineer, or architect and surveyor, may seem a strange one. He deputed to that office John Rudyerd, a silk-mercer who kept a shop on Ludgate Hill.
It does not appear that this Rudyerd had been bred to any scientific profession. On the contrary, it is reported that his parents and family were vagrants, and notorious for the badness of their characters; but that from something promising in the aspect of this boy, a gentleman took him into his service, and gave him instruction in reading, writing, accounts, and mathematics, in all which the boy made ready progress; so that his master was enabled to gratify his benevolent intention of advancing him in life, and recommending him to some employment above the rank of a servant. Thus was laid the foundation of his future success.
No doubt Captain Lovet had become well assured of the genius of this man, ere he entrusted him with a work for which no previous experience had qualified him. At any rate, the choice was a wise one. Rudyerd’s designs proved admirable, and his want of personal experience was in a great degree supplied by the help of Messrs. Smith and Norcutt, shipwrights from Woolwich, who worked with him the whole time.
Rudyerd saw the errors in Winstanley’s building, and avoided them: instead of a polygon, he chose a circle for the outline of his building, and carried up the elevation in that form. He studied use and simplicity instead of ornament; therefore he dispensed with the open gallery and other unnecessary appendages of the former building. After the completion of his work, Rudyerd published a print of his lighthouse, entitled ‘A Prospect and Section of the Lighthouse on the Edystone Rock off of Plymouth;’ with the motto, Furit natura coercet ars, dedicated to Thomas Earl of Pembroke, then Lord High Admiral.
Rudyerd did not fail to observe that owing to the very considerable slope of the surface of the Eddystone rock, nothing would stand upon it without artificial means: he therefore concluded, that if the rock were reduced to level bearings, the heavy bodies to be placed upon it would then have no tendency to slide. He therefore intended to have reduced the inclined surface to a set of regular steps, which would have been attended with the same good effect, as if the whole could have been reduced to one level; but in consequence of the hardness of the rock, the shortness and uncertainty of the intervals in which this part of the work was performed, and the great tendency of the laminæ of the rock to rise in spawls, according to the inclined surface when acted upon by tools with sufficient force to make an impression, this part of the work, i. e. the reducing of the rock to steps, was never perfectly carried out. The face of the rock was, however, divided into seven rather unequal ascents: thirty-six holes were cut in the rock, to the depth of from twenty to thirty inches. These holes were six inches square at the top, gradually narrowing to five inches, and then spreading again and flattening to nine inches by three at the bottom. They were all cut smooth within, and with great dispatch, as Rudyerd himself informs us, (though the stone was harder than any marble or stone thereabouts,) with engines for that purpose. Every cramp or bolt was forged exactly to the size of the hole it was designed to fill, weighing from two to five hundred weight, according to its different length and substance. These bolts or branches served to fasten the foundation to the rock.
The method of fixing these branches in the rock was ingenious, and proved quite effectual; so that when Smeaton took out some of these branches more than forty years afterwards, they were perfectly sound, and the iron had not even rusted. When the holes were finished and cleared of water, Rudyerd caused a considerable quantity of melted tallow to be poured into each hole: the iron branch was then heated to a blue heat, and being put down into the tallow, the key was firmly driven in. Thus all the space unfilled by the iron would become full of tallow even to overflowing. While all remained hot, a quantity of melted pewter was poured into the chinks, and drove out the remainder of the tallow, thus effectually filling up every crevice.