During this period, our friend John Potter, being a steady, able man, found plenty of work at the docks of Plymouth; but he often cast a wistful glance in the direction of the Rock and sighed to think of the tower that had perished, and the numerous wrecks that had occurred in consequence; for, not only had some vessels struck on the Rock itself, but others, keeping too far off its dreaded locality, were wrecked on the coast of France. John Potters sigh, it must be confessed, was also prompted, in part, by the thought that his dreams of a retired and peaceful life as a light-keeper were now destined never to be realised.
Returning home one evening, somewhat wearied, he flung his huge frame into a stout arm chair by the fireside, and exclaimed, Heigho!
Deary me, John, what ails you to-night? asked the faithful Martha, who was, as of yore, busy with the supper.
Nothin partikler, Martha; only Ive had a hard day of it, an Im glad to sit down. Was Isaac Dorkin here to-day?
No, e wasnt. I wonder you keep company with that man, replied Mrs Potter, testily; hes for ever quarrelling with ee, John.
No doubt he is, Martha; but we always make it up again; an it dont do for a man to give up his comrades just because they have sharp words now and then. Why, old girl, you and I are always havin a spurt o that sort off and on; yet I dont ever talk of leavin ye on that account.
To this Martha replied, Fiddlesticks; and said that she didnt believe in the friendship of people who were always fighting and making it up again; that for her part she would rather have no friends at all, she wouldnt; and that she had a settled conviction, she had, that Isaac Dorkin would come to a bad end at last.
I hope not, Martha; but in the meantime he has bin the means of gettin me some work to do that is quite to my liking.
What may that be, John? asked Mrs Potter in surprise.
Ill tell you when were at supper, said John with a smile; for he knew from experience that his better half was in a fitter state to swallow unpleasant news when engaged in swallowing her meals than at any other time.
Where is Tommy? he added, looking round at the quantity of chips which littered the floor.
Where is e? repeated Mrs Potter, in a tone of indignation. Where would you expect im to be but after mischief? Es at the modl, of course; always at it; never at hanythingk else amost.
No! exclaimed John, in affected surprise. Wasnt he at school to-day?
O yes, of course e was at school.
An did he git his lessons for to-morrow after comin ome?
I suppose e did.
Ah then, he does something else sometimes, eh?
Mrs Potters reply was interrupted by Tommy himself emerging from a closet, which formed his workshop and in which he was at that time busy with a model of Winstanleys lighthouse, executed from the drawings and descriptions by his father, improved by his own brilliant fancy.
Four years make a marked difference on a boy in the early stage of life. He was now nearly ten, and well grown, both intellectually and physically, for his age.
Well, Tommy, how dee git on wi the light-ouse? asked his father.
Pretty well, faither: but it seems to me that Mr Winstanley had too many stickin-out poles, an curlywurleys, an things o that sort about it.
Listen to that now, said Mrs Potter, with a look of contempt, as they all sat down to supper: what ever does the boy mean by curlywurleys?
Youve seed Isaac Dorkins nose, mother?
Of course I ave: what then?
Well, it goes in at the top and out at the middle and curls up at the end: thats curlywurley, said Tommy, with a grin, as he helped himself to a large potato.
The boy is right, Martha, said John, laughing, for a lighthouse should be as round an as smooth as a ships bow, with nothin for wind or water to lay hold on. But now Ill tell ee of this noo situation.
Both mother and son looked inquiringly up, but did not speak, being too busy and hungry.
Well, this is how it came about. I met Isaac Dorkin on my way to the docks this mornin, an he says to me, says he, John, I met a gentleman who is makin very partikler inquiries about the Eddystone Rock: his name he says is Rudyerd, and he wants to hire a lot o first-rate men to begin a new
A noo lightouse! exclaimed Mrs Potter, with sudden energy, bringing her fist down on the table with such force that the dishes rattled again. I knowd it: I did. Ive ad a settled conviction that if ever they begun to put up another ouse on that there rock, you would ave your finger in it! And now itll be the old story over again: out in all weathers, gettin yer limbs bruised, if yer neck aint broke; comin ome like a drownded rat, no regular hours or meals! Oh John, John!
Mrs Potter stopped at this point to recover breath and make up her mind whether to storm or weep. Heaving a deep sigh she did neither, but went on with her supper in sad silence.
Dont take on like that, duckey, said John, stretching his long arm across the table and patting his wifes shoulder. It wont be so bad as that comes to, and it will bring steady work, besides lots o money.
Go on with the story, faither, said Tommy, through a potato, while his eyes glittered with excitement.
It aint a story, lad. However, to make it short I may come to the pint at once. Isaac got engaged himself and mentioned my name to Mr Rudyerd, who took the trouble to ferret me out in the docks andand in fact engaged me for the work, which is to begin next week.
Capital! exclaimed Tommy. Oh, how I wish I was old enough to go too!
Time enough, lad: every dog shall have his day, as the proverb says.
Mrs Potter said nothing, but sighed, and sought comfort in another cup of tea.
Meanwhile John continued his talk in an easy, off hand sort of way, between bite.
This Mr Rudyerd, you must know (pass the loaf, Tommy: thank ee), is a Cornish manand fine, straightforward, go-ahead fellows them Cornish men are, though Im not one myself. Ah, you neednt turn up your pretty nose, Mrs Potter; I would rather have bin born in Cornwall than any other county in England, if Id had my choice. Howsever, that aint possible now. Well, it seems that Mr Rudyerd is a remarkable sort of man. He came of poor an dishonest parents, from whom he runned away in his young days, an got employed by a Plymouth gentleman, who became a true father to him, and got him a good edication in readin, writin, an mathematics. Ah, Tommy, my son, many a time have I had cause for to regret that nobody gave me a good edication!
Fiddlesticks! exclaimed Mrs Potter, rousing up at this. Youve got edication enough for your station in life, and a deal more than most men in the same trade. You oughtnt for to undervally yourself, John. Id back you against all your acquaintance in the matter of edication, I would, so dont talk any more nonsense like that.
Mrs Potter concluded by emphatically stabbing a potato with her fork, and beginning to peel it.
John smiled sadly and shook his head, but he was too wise a man to oppose his wife on such a point.
However, Tommy, he continued, Ill not let you have the same regrets in after life, my son: God helping me, you shall have a good; edication. Well, as I was sayin, John Rudyerd the runaway boy became Mister Rudyerd the silk-mercer on Ludgate Hill, London, and now hes goin to build a noo lightouse on the Eddystun.
Hed do better to mind his shop, said Mrs Potter.
He must be a strange man, observed Tommy, to be both a silk-mercer and an engineer.
Tommy was right: Mr Rudyerd was indeed a strange man, for the lighthouse which he ultimately erected on the Eddystone Rock proved that, although not a professional engineer, and although he never attempted any other great work of the kind, he nevertheless possessed engineering talent of the highest order: a fact which must of course have been known to Captain Lovet, the gentleman who selected him for the arduous undertaking.
The corporation of the Trinity House, who managed the lighthouses on the English coast, had let the right to build on the Eddystone, for a period of 99 years, to this Captain Lovet, who appointed Mr Rudyerd to do the work.
It was a clear calm morning in July 1706 when the boat put off for the first time to the Rock, with the men and materials for commencing the lighthouse. Our friend John Potter sat at the helm. Opposite to him sat his testy friend, Isaac Dorkin, pulling the stroke oar. Mr Rudyerd and his two assistant engineers sat on either hand, conversing on the subject that filled the thoughts of all. It was a long hard pull, even on a calm day, but stout oars and strong arms soon carried them out to the rock. Being low water at the time, a good deal of it was visible, besides several jagged peaks of the black forbidding ridge of which the Eddystone forms a part.
But calm though it was, the party could plainly see that the work before them would be both difficult and dangerous. A slight swell from the open sea caused a long smooth glassy wave to roll solemnly forward every minute or two, and launch itself in thunder on the weather side, sending its spray right over the rock at times, so that a landing on that side would have been impossible. On the lee side, however, the boat found a sort of temporary harbour. Here they landed, but not altogether without mishap. Isaac Dorkin, who had made himself conspicuous, during the row out, for caustic remarks, and a tendency to contradict, slipped his foot on a piece of seaweed and fell into the water, to the great glee of most of his comrades.
Ah, then, sarves you right, cried Teddy Maroon, a little Irishman, one of the joiners.
The others laughed, and so did John Potter; but he also stretched out a helping hand and pulled Dorkin out of the sea.
This little incident tended to increase the spirits of the party as they commenced preliminary operations.
The form of the little mass of rock on which they had to build was very unfavourable. Not only was it smallso small that the largest circle which it was possible to draw on it was only twenty-five feet six inches in diameter, but its surface sloped so much as to afford a very insecure foundation for any sort of building, even if the situation had been an unexposed one.
The former builder, Winstanley, had overcome this difficulty by fastening a circle of strong iron posts into the solid rock, but the weight of his building, coupled with the force of the sea, had snapped these, and thus left the structure literally to slide off its foundation. The ends of these iron posts, and a bit of chain firmly imbedded in a cleft of the rock, were all that the new party of builders found remaining of the old lighthouse. Rudyerd determined to guard against a similar catastrophe, by cutting the rock into a succession of flat steps or terraces, so that the weight of his structure should rest perpendicularly on its foundation.
Stormy weather interrupted and delayed him, but he returned with his men again and again to the work, and succeeded in advancing it very considerably during the first yearthat is to say, during the few weeks of the summer of that year, in which winds and waves permitted the work to go on.
Many adventures, both ludicrous and thrilling, had these enterprising men while they toiled, by snatches as it were, sometimes almost under water, and always under difficulties; but we are constrained to pass these by, in silence, in order to devote our space to the more important and stirring incidents in the history of this the second lighthouse on the Eddystone,one of which incidents bade fair to check the progress of the building for an indefinite period of time, and well-nigh brought the career of our hero, John Potter, and his mates to an abrupt close.
Chapter Three.
A Violent Interruption
The incident referred to in our last chapter occurred on the afternoon of a calm summer day. Early that morning, shortly after daybreak, Mr Rudyerd, with his engineers and workmen, put off in the boat to resume operations on the rock after a lapse of nearly a week, during which period rough weather had stopped the work. They landed without difficulty, the calm being so complete that there was only a little sea caused by the heavy swell on the south-west side of the Eddystone Rock, the leeside being as quiet as a pond.
Its not often we have weather like this sir, observed John Potter to Mr Rudyerd, as the heavily-laden boat approached the landing place.
True, John; a few weeks like this would enable us almost to complete the courses, replied the engineer. Easy, lads, easy! If you run her up so fast youll stave in the planks. Stand by with the fender, Teddy!
Ay, ay, sir! cried the man, springing up and seizing a stuffed canvas ball, which he swung over the gunwale just in time to prevent the boats side from grazing the rock. There now: jump out wi the painter; man alive! said Teddy, addressing himself to Isaac Dorkin, who was naturally slow in his movements, youll go souse between the boat an the rock av ye dont be smarter nor that.
Dorkin made some grumbling reply as he stepped upon the rock, and fastened the painter to a ring-bolt. His comrades sprang after him, and while some began to heave the tools from the boat, others busied themselves round the base of the column, which had by that time risen to a considerable height. It looked massive enough to bid defiance to wind and waves, however fierce their fury. Some such thought must have passed through Mr Rudyerds mind just then, for a satisfied smile lighted up his usually grave features as he directed the men to arrange the tackle of the crane, by which the stones were to be removed from the boat to their place on the building. They were all quickly at work; for they knew from experience how suddenly their operations might be cut short by a gale.
In order that the reader may fully understand the details of the event which occurred that afternoon, it is necessary that he should know the nature of the structure, and the height to which, at that time, it had proceeded; and while we are on the subject, we may as well state a few facts connected with the foundation and superstructure, which cannot fail to interest all who take pleasure in contemplating mans efforts to overcome almost insuperable difficulties.
As we have said, the sloping foundation of the building was cut into a series of terraces or steps. There were seven of these. The first operation was the cutting of thirty-six holes in the solid rock, into which iron hold-fasts were securely fixed. The cutting of these holes or sockets was ingeniously managed. First, three small holes were drilled into the rock; and then these were broken into one large hole, which was afterwards smoothed, enlarged, and undercut, so as to be of dovetail form; the size of each being 7 and a half inches broad and 2 and a half inches wide at the top, and an inch broader at the bottom. They were about sixteen inches deep. Thirty-six massive malleable iron hold-fasts were then inserted, and wedged into the places thus prepared for them, besides being filled up with lead, so that no force of any kind could draw them out. The next proceeding was to place beams of solid oak timber, lengthwise, on the first step, thus bringing it level with the second step. Timbers of the same kind were then placed above and across these, bringing the level up to the third step. The next course of timbers was again laid, lengthwise, bringing the level to the fourth step, and so on to the seventh, above which two completely circular timber courses were laid, thus making a perfectly flat and solid foundation on which the remainder of the column might rest. The building, therefore, had no tendency to slide, even although it had not been held in its place by the thirty-six hold-fasts before mentioned. In addition to this, the various courses of timber were fastened to the rock and to each other by means of numerous iron cramps and bolts, and wooden trenails.