Grace Darling, Heroine of the Farne Islands

by Marianne Farningham

"And when the dawn, the dull grey dawn,
Broke on the trembling town,
And men looked south to the harbour mouth,
The lighthouse tower was down!

"Down in the deep where he doth deep
Who made it shine afar,
And then in the night that drowned its light,
Set, with his pilot star.

"Many fair tombs, in the glorious glooms
At Westminster, they show;
The brave and the great lie there in state,
Winstanley lieth low!" [1]

Three years passed by before any other person was found willing to attempt the task of rebuilding the Eddystone lighthouse, and then Captain Lovet got a ninety-nine years lease from Trinity House; and John Rudyard, a silk-mercer of Ludgate-Hill, was engaged as the architect. His design differed very materially from that of Winstanley, and was built of Cornish granite and oak. While it was building England and France were at war with each other, and some of the workmen were carried off as prisoners. The King Louis XIV., however, ordered their immediate release, and giving them substantial presents, sent them back to their good work. This lighthouse was finished in 1709, but, in 1755, it was entirely destroyed, not by winds nor waves, but by fire. Three keepers were there at the time; and when one of them entered to snuff the candles, he found the cupola in flames. They strove to extinguish it, but their efforts were in vain. A fisherman observed the fire, and took the news ashore, when a boat came out to the assistance of the keepers. Nothing could be done, however, to stay the progress of the fire, which destroyed the edifice. One of the keepers immediately fled panic stricken, and was not heard of again, while one met his death in consequence of some melted lead dropping into his open mouth.

The third Eddystone lighthouse still rears its head, as it has done for more than a century. John Smeaton, a clever and practical mathematician, was the man to whose skill as an architect, and courage and perseverance as a man, the world is indebted for the light which still shines upon Eddystone. He was thirty-two years old at the time when this grand work was given him to do; but he had already shown that he possessed inventive genius, pluck, and perseverance, in no ordinary degree. He was quick to see that the two previous structures had not been sufficient in weight and solidity, and he resolved to build that which was committed to his care in such a way that it should be strong enough to resist the force of the winds and waves. He declared that his building should be of stone, and in shape something like the trunk of an oak. In August, 1756, the work was begun, but of course it could not be carried on in the winter. The first stone, weighing two tons and a quarter, was laid on the 12th of the following June; and the next day the first course, consisting of four massive stones, which were dovetailed into the rocks, and formed a compact mass, was completed. The courses followed each other as rapidly as possible, and by the 11th of August the sixth was done, which brought the erection so high as to be out of reach of the ordinary tides. On the 30th of September the ninth course was completed, and then the builders had to leave off work for the winter.

It is easy to conceive of the anxiety which Smeaton suffered during the months which were unusually stormy; but in May, when he and his workmen were again able to reach the rock, they found, to their great joy, that the winter's floods had rather perfected than impaired their work. They gladly commenced operations again, and by September the twenty-fourth course was completed. They had now got as far as the store-room. They worked with a will, and during the next summer the second and third floors were finished. As the building was in progress, Smeaton had inscribed on the walls these words—"Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain who build it." And after it was finished, he had the words, "Laus Deo," engraved upon the top-stone. The erection was finished, and the lantern lighted, on the 16th of October, 1769, and has remained ever since, a monument of the undaunted energy and perseverance of Englishmen.

Another celebrated lighthouse is that of "The Smalls," built on one of the dangerous rocks that lie near the entrance of Milford Haven. It was built by Mr. Phillips, who did it not for gain, but in order to save his fellow-creatures. The architect he employed was a musical instrument maker, named Whiteside. The work was begun in 1772, and persevered with until it was finished. In the beginning of the year 1777, Whiteside and his companions found themselves in great straits, and they wrote a letter and put it inside a barrel, and sent it afloat, hoping it would reach the shore:—

"THE SMALLS, Feb. 1, 1777.

"SIR—Being now in a most dangerous and distressed condition upon the Smalls, I do hereby trust Providence will bring to your hand this, which prayeth for your immediate assistance to fetch us off before next spring, or we fear we shall perish—our water all gone, and our fire quite gone, and our house in a most melancholy manner. I doubt not but you will fetch us from here as fast as possible: we can be got off at some part of the tide almost any weather. I need say no more, but remain your distressed humble servant.
"H. WHITESIDE."

"We were distressed in a gale of wind upon the 13th of January, since which have not been able to keep any light, but we could not have kept any light above sixteen nights longer for want of oil and candles, which makes us murmur, and think we are forgotten.
"EDWARD EDWARDS.
"G. ADAMS.
"J. PRICE.