CHAPTER THREE.
A VIOLENT INTERRUPTION.
The incident referred to in our last chapter occurred on the afternoonof a calm summer day. Early that morning, shortly after daybreak, MrRudyerd, with his engineers and workmen, put off in the boat to resumeoperations on the rock after a lapse of nearly a week, during whichperiod rough weather had stopped the work. They landed withoutdifficulty, the calm being so complete that there was only a little seacaused by the heavy swell on the south-west side of the Eddystone Rock,the leeside being as quiet as a pond.
"It's not often we have weather like this sir," observed John Potter toMr Rudyerd, as the heavily-laden boat approached the landing place.
"True, John; a few weeks like this would enable us almost to completethe courses," replied the engineer. "Easy, lads, easy! If you run herup so fast you'll stave in the planks. Stand by with the fender,Teddy!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the man, springing up and seizing a stuffed canvasball, which he swung over the gunwale just in time to prevent the boat'sside from grazing the rock. "There now: jump out wi' the painter; manalive!" said Teddy, addressing himself to Isaac Dorkin, who wasnaturally slow in his movements, "you'll go souse between the boat an'the rock av ye don't be smarter nor that."
Dorkin made some grumbling reply as he stepped upon the rock, andfastened the painter to a ring-bolt. His comrades sprang after him, andwhile some began to heave the tools from the boat, others busiedthemselves round the base of the column, which had by that time risen toa considerable height. It looked massive enough to bid defiance to windand waves, however fierce their fury. Some such thought must havepassed through Mr Rudyerd's mind just then, for a satisfied smilelighted up his usually grave features as he directed the men to arrangethe tackle of the crane, by which the stones were to be removed from theboat to their place on the building. They were all quickly at work; forthey knew from experience how suddenly their operations might be cutshort by a gale.
In order that the reader may fully understand the details of the eventwhich occurred that afternoon, it is necessary that he should know thenature of the structure, and the height to which, at that time, it hadproceeded; and while we are on the subject, we may as well state a fewfacts connected with the foundation and superstructure, which cannotfail to interest all who take pleasure in contemplating man's efforts toovercome almost insuperable difficulties.
As we have said, the sloping foundation of the building was cut into aseries of terraces or steps. There were seven of these. The firstoperation was the cutting of thirty-six holes in the solid rock, intowhich iron hold-fasts were securely fixed. The cutting of these holesor sockets was ingeniously managed. First, three small holes weredrilled into the rock; and then these were broken into one large hole,which was afterwards smoothed, enlarged, and _undercut_, so as to be ofdovetail form; the size of each being 7 and a half inches broad and 2and a half inches wide at the top, and an inch broader at the bottom.They were about sixteen inches deep. Thirty-six massive malleable ironhold-fasts were then inserted, and wedged into the places thus preparedfor them, besides being filled up with lead, so that no force of anykind could draw them out. The next proceeding was to place beams ofsolid oak timber, lengthwise, on the first _step_, thus bringing itlevel with the second step. Timbers of the same kind were then placedabove and across these, bringing the level up to the third step. Thenext "course" of timbers was again laid, lengthwise, bringing the levelto the fourth step, and so on to the seventh, above which two completelycircular timber courses were laid, thus making a perfectly flat andsolid foundation on which the remainder of the column might rest. Thebuilding, therefore, had no tendency to slide, even although it had notbeen held in its place by the thirty-six hold-fasts before mentioned.In addition to this, the various courses of timber were fastened to therock and to each other by means of numerous iron cramps and bolts, andwooden trenails.
It was well known to Mr Rudyerd, however, that it was not possible tofit his timbers so perfectly to the rock and to each other as to excludewater altogether; and that if the water should manage to find entrance,it would exert a tremendous lifting power, which, coupled with theweight of the falling billows, would be apt to sweep his foundationaway. He resolved, therefore, to counteract this by means of _weight_;and, in order to do this, he next piled five courses of Cornishmoor-stone above the timber courses. The stones were huge blocks,which, when laid and fastened in one solid stratum, weighed 120 tons.They were not laid in cement; but each block was fastened to its fellowby joints and similar to the first. The whole of this fabric was builtround a strong central mast or pole, which rose from the rock. The twotimber courses above described terminated the "solid" part of thelighthouse. It rose to the height of about fourteen feet from the rock,at the centre of the building.
At this point in the structure; namely, at the top of the "solid," thedoor was begun on the east side; and a central "well-hole" was left,where the stair leading to the rooms above was ultimately built. Thedoor itself was reached by a strong iron stair of open work, outside,through which the sea could easily wash.
After the solid was completed, other five courses of moor-stone werelaid, which weighed about eighty-six tons. It was in these that thedoor-way and well-hole were made. Two more courses of wood followed,covering the door-head; and on these, four more courses of stone,weighing sixty-seven tons; then several courses of timber, with a floorof oak plank, three inches thick, over all, forming the floor of thefirst apartment, which was the store-room. This first floor wasthirty-three feet above the rock.
The upper part of the column, containing its four rooms, was by no meansso strong as the lower part, being composed chiefly of the timberuprights in which the building was encased from top to bottom. Theseuprights, numbering seventy-one, were massive beams; about a foot broadand nine inches thick at the bottom, and diminishing towards the top.Their seams were caulked like those of a ship, and they gave to thelighthouse when finished the appearance of an elegant fluted column.The top of the column, on which rested the lantern, rose, when finished,to about sixty-three feet above the highest part of the rock.
We have thought proper to give these details in this place, but at thetime of which we write, none of the outside timbers had been set up, andthe edifice had only reached that point immediately above the "solid,"where the doorway and the "well-hole" began. Here a large crane hadbeen fixed, and two of the men were up there working the windlass, bywhich the heavy blocks of moor-stone were raised to their places.
The signal had been given to hoist one of these, when Isaac Dorkin, whostood beside the stone, suddenly uttered a loud cry, and shouted, "holdon! Ease off up there! Hold o-o-on! D'ye hear?"
"Arrah! howld yer noise, an' I'll hear better," cried Teddy Maroon,looking over the top edge of the lighthouse.
"My thumb's caught i' the chain!" yelled Dorkin. "Ease it off."
"Och! poor thing," exclaimed Teddy, springing back and casting loose thechain. "Are ye aisy now?" he cried, again looking down at his friend.
"All right: hoist away!" shouted Stobbs, another of the men, who couldscarce refrain from laughing at the rueful countenance of his comrade ashe surveyed his crushed thumb.
Up went the stone, and while it was ascending some of the men broughtforward another to follow it.
"There comes the boat," observed Mr Rudyerd to one of his assistantengineers, as he shut up a pocket telescope with which he had beensurveying the distant shore. "I find it necessary to leave you to-day,Mr Franks, rather earlier than usual; but that matters little, asthings are going smoothly here. See that you keep the men at work aslong as possible. If the swell that is beginning to rise shouldincrease, it may compel you to knock off before dark, but I hope itwon't."
"It would be well, sir, I think," said Franks, "to make John Potteroverseer in place of Williamson; he is a better and steadier man. Ifyou have no objection--"
"None in the least," replied Rudyerd. "I have thought of promotingPot
ter for some time past. Make the change by all means."
"Please, sir," said Williamson, approaching at that moment, "I've justbeen at the top of the building an' observed a French schooner bearingdown from the south-west."
"Well, what of that?" demanded Rudyerd.
"Why, sir," said Williamson with some hesitation in his manner, "p'rapsit's a man-of-war, sir."
"And if it be so, what then?" said Rudyerd with a smile; "you don'tsuppose they'll fire a broadside at an unfinished lighthouse, do you? orare you afraid they'll take the Eddystone Rock in tow, and carry youinto a French port?"
"I don't know, sir," replied Williamson with an offended look; "I onlythought that as we are at war with France just now, it was my duty toreport what I had seen."
"Quite right, quite right," replied Rudyerd, good-humouredly, "I'llrecord the fact in our journal. Meanwhile see that the men don't havetheir attention taken up with it."
By this time the small boat, which the chief engineer had ordered tocome off to take him on shore, was alongside the rock. The swell hadrisen so much that although there was not a breath of wind, the surf wasbeating violently on the south-west side, and even in the shelterednook, which was styled by courtesy the harbour, there was sufficientcommotion to render care in fending off with the boat-hook necessary.Meanwhile the men wrought like tigers, taking no note of their chief'sdeparture--all, except Williamson, being either ignorant of, orindifferent to, the gradual approach of the French schooner, whichdrifted slowly towards them with the tide.
Thus work and time went on quietly. Towards the afternoon, Teddy Maroonwiped the perspiration from his heated brow and looked abroad upon thesea, while the large hook of his crane was descending for another stone.An expression of intense earnestness wrinkled his visage as he turnedsuddenly to Stobbs, his companion at the windlass, and exclaimed:--
"Sure that's a Frenchman over there."
"That's wot it is, Ted, an' no mistake," said Stobbs. "I had a'mostforgot about the war and the Mounseers."
"Ah then, it's not goin' to attack us ye are, is it? Never!" exclaimedTeddy in surprise, observing that two boats had been lowered from theschooner's davits into which men were crowding.
The question was answered in a way that could not be misunderstood. Apuff of white smoke burst from the vessel's side, and a cannon shot wentskipping over the sea close past the lighthouse, at the same time theFrench flag was run up and the two boats, pushing off, made straight forthe rock.
Teddy and his comrade ran down to the foot of the building, where theother men were arming themselves hastily with crowbars and large chipsof stone. Marshalling the men together, the assistant engineer, who wasa fiery little fellow, explained to them how they ought to act.
"My lads," said he, "the surf has become so strong, by good luck, thatit is likely to capsize the enemy's boats before they get here. Inwhich case they'll be comfortably drowned, and we can resume our work;but if they manage to reach the rock, we'll retire behind the lighthouseto keep clear of their musket balls; and, when they attempt to land,rush at 'em, and heave 'em all into the sea. It's like enough thatthey're more numerous than we, but you all know that one Englishman is amatch for three Frenchmen any day."
A general laugh and cheer greeted this address, and then they all tookshelter behind the lighthouse. Meanwhile, the two boats drew near. Thelightest one was well in advance. On it came, careering on the crest ofa large glassy wave. Now was the time for broaching-to and upsetting,but the boat was cleverly handled. It was launched into the "harbour"on a sea of foam.
Most of the Englishmen, on seeing this, ran to oppose the landing.
"Surrender!" shouted an officer with a large moustache, standing up inthe bow of the boat.
"Never!" replied Mr Franks, defiantly.
"Hooray!" yelled Teddy Maroon, flourishing his crowbar.
At this the officer gave an order: the Frenchmen raised their muskets,and the Englishmen scampered back to their place of shelter, laughinglike school-boys engaged in wild play. Teddy Maroon, whose fertilebrain was always devising some novelty or other, ran up to his old postat the windlass, intending to cast a large mass of stone into the boatwhen it neared the rock, hoping thereby to knock a hole through itsbottom; but before he reached his perch, a breaker burst into theharbour and overturned the boat, leaving her crew to struggle towardsthe rock. Some of them were quickly upon it, grappling with theEnglishmen who rushed forward to oppose the landing. Seeing this, Teddyhurled his mass of stone at the head of an unfortunate Frenchman, whomhe narrowly missed, and then, uttering a howl, ran down to join in thefray. The French commander, a powerful man, was met knee-deep in thewater, by Isaac Dorkin, whom he struck down with the hilt of his sword,and poor Isaac's grumbling career would certainly have come to an endthen and there, had not John Potter, who had already hurled twoFrenchmen back into the sea, run to the rescue, and, catching his friendby the hair of the head, dragged him on the rock. At that moment TeddyMaroon dashed at the French officer, caught his uplifted sword-arm bythe wrist, and pushed him back into the sea just as he was in the act ofmaking a savage cut at John Potter. Before the latter had dragged hismate quite out of danger he was grappled with by another Frenchman, andthey fell struggling to the ground, while a third came up behind Teddywith a boat-hook, and almost took him by surprise; but Teddy turned intime, caught the boat-hook in his left hand, and, flattening theFrenchman's nose with his right, tumbled him over and ran to assist inrepelling another party of the invaders who were making good theirlanding at the other side of the rock.
Thus the "skrimmage," as John Potter styled it, became general.Although out-numbered, the Englishmen were getting the best of it, whenthe second boat plunged into the so-called harbour, and in a few secondsthe rock was covered with armed men. Of course the Englishmen wereoverpowered. Their tools were collected and put into the boat. Withsome difficulty the first boat was righted. The Englishmen were putinto it, with a strong guard of marines, and then the whole party werecarried on board the French schooner, which turned out to be aprivateer.
Thus were the builders of the Eddystone lighthouse carried off asprisoners of war to France, and their feelings may be gathered from thelast remark of Teddy Maroon, who, as the white cliffs of England werefading from his view, exclaimed bitterly, "Och hone! I'll never seeowld Ireland no more!"
Note. It may be as well to state, at this point, that the incidentshere related, and indeed all the important incidents of our tale, arefounded on, we believe, well authenticated facts.