CHAPTER SIX.
THE END OF RUDYERD'S LIGHTHOUSE.
Thirty-Four years passed away, and still Rudyerd's lighthouse stood firmas the rock on which it was founded. True, during that period it had toundergo occasional repairs, because the timber uprights at the base,where exposed to the full violence of the waves, had becomeweather-worn, and required renewing in part; but this was onlyequivalent to a ship being overhauled and having some of her planksrenewed. The main fabric of the lighthouse remained as sound andsteadfast at the end of that long period as it was at the beginning, andit would in all probability have remained on the Eddystone Rock till thepresent day, had not a foe assailed it, whose nature was very differentindeed from that with which it had been built to contend.
The lighthouse was at this time in charge of Teddy Maroon: not the Teddywho had bewailed his fate so disconsolately in the French prison in daysgone by, but his youngest son, who was now getting to be an elderly man.We may, however, relieve the mind of the sympathetic reader, by sayingthat Teddy, senior, was not dead. He was still alive and hearty; thoughbent nearly double with extreme age; and dwelt on the borders of one ofthe Irish bogs, at the head of an extensive colony of Maroons.
One night Teddy the younger ascended to the lantern to trim the candles;he snuffed them all round and returned to the kitchen to have a pipe,his two mates being a-bed at the time. No one now knows how the thinghappened, but certain it is that Teddy either dropped some of theburning snuff on the floor, or in some other way introduced more lightinto his lantern that night than it had ever been meant to contain, sothat while he and his mates were smoking comfortably below, thelighthouse was smoking quietly, but ominously, above.
On shore, late that night, an elderly gentleman stood looking out of thewindow of a charmingly situated cottage in the village of Cawsand Bay,near Plymouth, which commanded a magnificent prospect of the channel.
"Father," he said, turning to a very old man seated beside the fire,who, although shrunken and wrinkled and bald, was ruddy in complexion,and evidently in the enjoyment of a green old age, "Father, thelighthouse is beautifully bright to-night; shall I help you to thewindow to look at it?"
"Yes, Tommy: I'm fond o' the old light. It minds me of days gone by,when you and I were young, Martha."
The old man gave a chuckle as he looked across the hearthstone, where,in a chair similar to his own, sat a very stout and very deaf and veryold lady, smoothing the head of her grandchild, a little girl, who wasthe youngest of a family of ten.
Old Martha did not hear John Potter's remark, but she saw his kindlysmile, and nodded her head with much gravity in reply. Martha had grownintellectually slow when she partially lost her hearing, and althoughshe was not sad she had evidently become solemn. An English Dictionaryand the Bible were the only books that Martha would look at now. Shedid not use the former as a help to the understanding of the latter. Noone knew why she was so partial to the dictionary; but as she notunfrequently had it on her knee upside down while poring over it, hergrandchild, little Nora, took up the idea that she had resolved todevote the latter days of her life to learning to read backwards!Perhaps the fact that the dictionary had once belonged to her son Jameswho was wrecked and drowned on the Norfolk coast, may have had somethingto do with it.
With the aid of his son's arm and a stick old John managed to hobble tothe window.
"It is very bright. Why, Tommy," he exclaimed, with a start, "it's toobright: the lighthouse must be on fire!"
At that moment, "Tommy's" wife, now "fat, fair, and _fifty_" (orthereabouts), entered the room hurriedly, exclaiming, "Oh, Tom, what_can_ be the matter with the lighthouse, I never saw it so brightbefore?"
Tom, who had hastily placed his father in a chair, so that he could seethe Eddystone, seized his hat, and exclaiming, "I'll go and see, mydear," ran out and proceeded to the shore.
"What's the matter?" cried Mrs Potter in a querulous voice, when littleNora rushed from her side.
Nora, senior, went to her at once, and, bending down, said, in a musicalvoice that retained much of its clearness and all its former sweetness:"I fear that the lighthouse is on fire, grandma!"
Mrs Potter gazed straight before her with vacant solemnity, and Nora,supposing that she had not heard, repeated the information.
Still Mrs Potter made no reply; but, after a few moments, she turnedher eyes on her daughter-in-law with owlish gravity, and said; "I knewit! I said long ago to your father, my dear, I had a settled convictionthat that lighthouse would come to a bad end."
It did indeed appear as though old Martha's prophecy were about to cometrue!
Out at the lighthouse Teddy Maroon, having finished his pipe, went up tothe lantern to trim the candles again. He had no sooner opened thehatch of the lantern than a dense cloud of smoke burst out. He shoutedto his comrades, one of whom, Henry Hall, was old and not fit for muchviolent exertion; the other, James Wilkie, was a young man, but a heavysleeper. They could not be roused as quickly as the occasion demanded.Teddy ran to the store-room for a leathern bucket, but before he coulddescend to the rock, fill it and re-ascend, the flames had got a firmhold of the cupola. He dashed the water into the lantern just as hishorrified comrades appeared.
"Fetch bucketfulls as fast as ye can. Och, be smart, boys, if iver yewas," he shouted, while perspiration streamed down his face. Pullingoff his coat, while his mates ran down for water, Teddy dashed wildlyinto the lantern, and, holding the coat by its arms, laid about himviolently, but smoke and fire drove him but almost immediately. Thebuckets were long of coming, and when they did arrive, their contentswere as nothing on the glowing cupola. Then Teddy went out on thebalcony and endeavoured to throw the water up, but the height was toogreat. While he was doing this, Wilkie ran down for more water, butHall stood gazing upwards, open-mouthed with horror, at the ragingflames. At that moment the leaden covering of the roof melted, andrushed down on Hall's head and shoulders. He fell, with a loud shriek.While Teddy tried to drag him down to the room below, he exclaimed thatsome of the melted lead had gone down his throat! He was terriblyburned about the neck, but his comrades had to leave him in his bedwhile they strove wildly to check the flames. It was all in vain. Thewood-work around the lantern, from years of exposure to the heat oftwenty-four large candles burning at once, had become like tinder, andthe fire became so fierce that the timber courses composing the top ofthe column soon caught. Then the keepers saw that any further effortswould be useless. The great exertions made to carry up even a fewbucketsfull of water soon exhausted their strength, and they were drivenfrom room to room as the fire descended. At last the heat and smokebecame so intense that they were driven out of the lighthousealtogether, and sought shelter in a cavern or hollow under the ladder,on the east side of the rock. Fortunately it was low water at the time,and the weather was calm. Had it been otherwise, the rock would havebeen no place of refuge.
Meanwhile Mr Thomas Potter (our old friend Tommy--now, as we have saidan elderly gentleman) went off in a large boat with a crew of stoutfishermen from Cawsand Bay, having a smaller boat in tow. When theyreached the rock, a terrific spectacle was witnessed. The lighthousewas enveloped in flames nearly to the bottom, for the outside planking,being caulked and covered with pitch, was very inflammable. The topglowed against the dark sky and looked in the midst of the smoke like afiery meteor. The Eddystone Rock was suffused with a dull red light, asif it were becoming red hot, and the surf round it appeared to hissagainst the fire, while in the dark shadow of the cave the threelighthouse keepers were seen cowering in terror,--as they well might,seeing that melted lead and flaming masses of wood and other substanceswere falling thickly round them.
To get them out of their dangerous position was a matter of extremedifficulty, because, although there was little or no wind, the swellcaused a surf on the rock which absolutely forbade the attempt to land.In this emergency they fell upon a plan which seemed to afford some hopeof success. They anchored the large boat to the wes
tward, and veereddown towards the rock as far as they dared venture. Then three men wentinto the small boat, which was eased off and sent farther in by means ofa rope. When as near as it was possible to approach, a coil of rope wasthrown to the rock. It was caught by Teddy Maroon, and although inextreme danger and anxiety, the men in the boat could not help givingvent to a ringing cheer. Teddy at once tied the end of the rope roundthe waist of old Henry Hall, and half persuaded, half forced him intothe surf, through which he was hauled into the boat in safety. Wilkiewent next, and Teddy followed. Thus they were rescued, put on board thelarge boat, and carried on shore; but no sooner did the keel grate onthe sand, than Wilkie, who had never spoken a word, and who appearedhalf stupefied, bounded on shore and ran off at full speed. It is acurious fact, which no one has ever been able to account for, that thisman was never more heard of! As it is quite certain that he did notcause the fire, and also that he did his utmost to subdue it, the onlyconclusion that could be come to was, that the excitement and terror haddriven him mad. At all events that was the last of him.
Another curious fact connected with the fire is, that Henry Hallactually did swallow a quantity of melted lead. He lingered for twelvedays after the accident, and then died. Afterwards his body was opened,and an oval lump of lead, which weighed upwards of seven ounces, wasfound in his stomach. This extraordinary fact is authenticated by thecredible testimony of a respectable medical man and severaleye-witnesses.
Meanwhile, the lighthouse continued to burn, despite the most strenuousefforts made to save it. Had a storm arisen, the seas would speedilyhave quenched the fire, but unfortunately the weather continued fine andcomparatively calm for several days, while the wind was just strongenough to fan the fury of the flames, and at the same time to cause asurf sufficiently high to render a landing on the rock impossible. But,indeed, even if this had been effected, the efforts that could have beenmade with the small fire-engines at that time in use, would have beenutterly useless. The fire gradually descended to the different coursesof solid timber, the well-hole of the staircase assisting the draught,and the outside timbers and inside mast, or wooden core, forming adouble connecting link whereby the devouring element was carried to thevery bottom of the building, with a heat so intense that the courses ofCornish moor-stone were made red hot.
Admiral West, with part of the fleet, happened to be at that time inPlymouth Sound. He at once sent a sloop with a fire-engine to the rock.They attempted to land in a boat, but could not. So violent was thesurf, that the boat was at one time thrown bodily upon the rock by onewave and swept off again by the next. The escape on this occasion wasalmost miraculous, the men therefore did not venture to make anotherattempt, but contented themselves with endeavouring to work the enginefrom the boat, in doing which they broke it, and thus all hope of doinganything further was gone. But indeed the engine they had would haveavailed nothing, even though it had been twice as powerful, against sucha mighty conflagration. As well might they have tried to extinguishVesuvius with a tea-kettle!
For four days and nights did that massive pillar of fire burn. At lastit fell in ruins before the most irresistible element with which man ormatter has to contend, after having braved the fury of the winds andwaves for nearly half a century.
Thus perished the second lighthouse that was built on the EddystoneRock, in December of the year 1755, and thus, once again, were thoseblack reefs left unguarded. Once more that dread of mariners, ancientand modern, became a trap on the south coast of England--a trap nowrendered doubly dangerous by the fact that, for so long a period, shipshad been accustomed to make for it instead of avoiding it, in the fullexpectation of receiving timely warning from its friendly light.