Records of a Family of Engineers, by Robert Louis Stevenson

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Transcribed from the 1912 Chatto & Windus edition by DavidPrice,best screen free coding toys for 7 year olds under 100 dollars email [email protected].  Additional proofing by PeterBarnes.

RECORDS OF A
FAMILY OF ENGINEERS

by

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

LONDON

CHATTO & WINDUS

1912

All rights reserved

INTRODUCTION: THE SURNAME OF STEVENSON

From the thirteenth century onwards, the name, under thevarious disguises of Stevinstoun, Stevensoun, Stevensonne,Stenesone, and Stewinsoune, spread across Scotland from the mouthof the Firth of Forth to the mouth of the Firth of Clyde. Four times at least it occurs as a place-name.  There is aparish of Stevenston in Cunningham; a second place of the name inthe Barony of Bothwell in Lanark; a third on Lyne, above DrochilCastle; the fourth on the Tyne, near Traprain Law. Stevenson of Stevenson (co. Lanark) swore fealty to Edward I in1296, and the last of that family died after theRestoration.  Stevensons of Hirdmanshiels, in Midlothian,rode in the Bishops’ Raid of Aberlady, served as jurors,stood bail for neighbours—Hunter of Polwood, forinstance—and became extinct about the same period, orpossibly earlier.  A Stevenson of Luthrie and another ofPitroddie make their bows, give their names, and vanish. And by the year 1700 it does not appear that any acre of Scotsland was vested in any Stevenson. [2a]

Here is, so far, a melancholy picture of backward progress,and a family posting towards extinction.  But the law(however administered, and I am bound to aver that, in Scotland,‘it couldna weel be waur’) acts as a kind of dredge,and with dispassionate impartiality brings up into the light ofday, and shows us for a moment, in the jury-box or on thegallows, the creeping things of the past.  By these brokenglimpses we are able to trace the existence of many other andmore inglorious Stevensons, picking a private way through thebrawl that makes Scots history.  They were members ofParliament for Peebles, Stirling, Pittenweem, Kilrenny, andInverurie.  We find them burgesses of Edinburgh; indwellersin Biggar, Perth, and Dalkeith.  Thomas was the forester ofNewbattle Park, Gavin was a baker, John a maltman, Francis achirurgeon, and ‘Schir William’ a priest.  Inthe feuds of Humes and Heatleys, Cunninghams, Montgomeries,Mures, Ogilvies, and Turnbulls, we find them inconspicuouslyinvolved, and apparently getting rather better than theygave.  Schir William (reverend gentleman) was cruellieslaughtered on the Links of Kincraig in 1582; James (‘inthe mill-town of Roberton’), murdered in 1590; Archibald(‘in Gallowfarren’), killed with shots of pistols andhagbuts in 1608.  Three violent deaths in about seventyyears, against which we can only put the case of Thomas, servantto Hume of Cowden Knowes, who was arraigned with his two youngmasters for the death of the Bastard of Mellerstanes in1569.  John (‘in Dalkeith’) stood sentry withoutHolyrood while the banded lords were despatching Rizziowithin.  William, at the ringing of Perth bell, ran beforeGowrie House ‘with ane sword, and, entering to the yearde,saw George Craiggingilt with ane twa-handit sword and utherisnychtbouris; at quilk time James Boig cryit ower ane wynds,“Awa hame! ye will all be hangit”’—apiece of advice which William took, and immediately‘depairtit.’  John got a maid with child to himin Biggar, and seemingly deserted her; she was hanged on theCastle Hill for infanticide, June 1614; and Martin, elder inDalkeith, eternally disgraced the name by signing witness in awitch trial, 1661.  These are two of our black sheep. [3a]  Under the Restoration, oneStevenson was a bailie in Edinburgh, and another the lessee ofthe Canonmills.  There were at the same period twophysicians of the name in Edinburgh, one of whom, Dr. Archibald,appears to have been a famous man in his day andgeneration.  The Court had continual need of him; it was hewho reported, for instance, on the state of Rumbold; and he wasfor some time in the enjoyment of a pension of a thousand poundsScots (about eighty pounds sterling) at a time when five hundredpounds is described as ‘an opulent future.’  Ido not know if I should be glad or sorry that he failed to keepfavour; but on 6th January 1682 (rather a cheerless NewYear’s present) his pension was expunged. [4a]  There need be no doubt, at least,of my exultation at the fact that he was knighted and recordedarms.  Not quite so genteel, but still in public life, Hughwas Under-Clerk to the Privy Council, and liked being soextremely.  I gather this from his conduct in September1681, when, with all the lords and their servants, he took thewoful and soul-destroying Test, swearing it ‘word by wordupon his knees.’  And, behold! it was in vain, forHugh was turned out of his small post in 1684. [4b]  Sir Archibald and Hugh were bothplainly inclined to be trimmers; but there was one witness of thename of Stevenson who held high the banner of theCovenant—John, ‘Land-Labourer, [4c] in the parish of Daily, inCarrick,’ that ‘eminently pious man.’  Heseems to have been a poor sickly soul, and shows himself disabledwith scrofula, and prostrate and groaning aloud with fever; butthe enthusiasm of the martyr burned high within him.

‘I was made to take joyfully the spoiling of my goods,and with pleasure for His name’s sake wandered in desertsand in mountains, in dens and caves of the earth.  I layfour months in the coldest season of the year in a haystack in myfather’s garden, and a whole February in the open fieldsnot far from Camragen, and this I did without the least prejudicefrom the night air; one night, when lying in the fields near tothe Carrick-Miln, I was all covered with snow in themorning.  Many nights have I lain with pleasure in thechurchyard of Old Daily, and made a grave my pillow; frequentlyhave I resorted to the old walls about the glen, near toCamragen, and there sweetly rested.’  The visible bandof God protected and directed him.  Dragoons were turnedaside from the bramble-bush where he lay hidden.  Miracleswere performed for his behoof.  ‘I got a horse and awoman to carry the child, and came to the same mountain, where Iwandered by the mist before; it is commonly known by the name ofKellsrhins: when we came to go up the mountain, there came on agreat rain, which we thought was the occasion of thechild’s weeping, and she wept so bitterly, that all wecould do could not divert her from it, so that she was ready toburst.  When we got to the top of the mountain, where theLord had been formerly kind to my soul in prayer, I looked roundme for a stone, and espying one, I went and brought it. When the woman with me saw me set down the stone, she smiled, andasked what I was going to do with it.  I told her I wasgoing to set it up as my Ebenezer, because hitherto, and in thatplace, the Lord had formerly helped, and I hoped would yethelp.  The rain still continuing, the child weepingbitterly, I went to prayer, and no sooner did I cry to God, butthe child gave over weeping, and when we got up from prayer, therain was pouring down on every side, but in the way where we wereto go there fell not one drop; the place not rained on was as bigas an ordinary avenue.’  And so great a saint was thenatural butt of Satan’s persecutions.  ‘Iretired to the fields for secret prayer about mid-night. When I went to pray I was much straitened, and could not get onerequest, but “Lord pity,” “Lord help”;this I came over frequently; at length the terror of Satan fellon me in a high degree, and all I could say even thenwas—“Lord help.”  I continued in the dutyfor some time, notwithstanding of this terror.  At length Igot up to my feet, and the terror still increased; then the enemytook me by the arm-pits, and seemed to lift me up by myarms.  I saw a loch just before me, and I concluded hedesigned to throw me there by force; and had he got leave to doso, it might have brought a great reproach upon religion. [7a]  But it was otherwise ordered, andthe cause of piety escaped that danger. [7b]

On the whole, the Stevensons may be described as decent,reputable folk, following honest trades—millers, maltsters,and doctors, playing the character parts in the Waverley Novelswith propriety, if without distinction; and to an orphan lookingabout him in the world for a potential ancestry, offering a plainand quite unadorned refuge, equally free from shame andglory.  John, the land-labourer, is the one living andmemorable figure, and he, alas! cannot possibly be more near thana collateral.  It was on August 12, 1678, that he heard Mr.John Welsh on the Craigdowhill, and ‘took the heavens,earth, and sun in the firmament that was shining on us, as alsothe ambassador who made the offer, and the clerk who raisedthe psalms, to witness that I did give myself away to theLord in a personal and perpetual covenant never to beforgotten’; and already, in 1675, the birth of my directascendant was registered in Glasgow.  So that I have beenpursuing ancestors too far down; and John the land-labourer isdebarred me, and I must relinquish from the trophies of my househis rare soul-strengthening and comforting cordial. It is the same case with the Edinburgh bailie and the miller ofthe Canonmills, worthy man! and with that public character, Hughthe Under-Clerk, and, more than all, with Sir Archibald, thephysician, who recorded arms.  And I am reduced to a familyof inconspicuous maltsters in what was then the clean andhandsome little city on the Clyde.

The name has a certain air of being Norse.  But the storyof Scottish nomenclature is confounded by a continual process oftranslation and half-translation from the Gaelic which in oldendays may have been sometimes reversed.  Roy becomes Reid;Gow, Smith.  A great Highland clan uses the name ofRobertson; a sept in Appin that of Livingstone; Maclean inGlencoe answers to Johnstone at Lockerby.  And we find suchhybrids as Macalexander for Macallister.  There is but onerule to be deduced: that however uncompromisingly Saxon a namemay appear, you can never be sure it does not designate aCelt.  My great-grandfather wrote the name Stevensonbut pronounced it Steenson, after the fashion of theimmortal minstrel in Redgauntlet; and this elision of amedial consonant appears a Gaelic process; and, curiously enough,I have come across no less than two Gaelic forms: JohnMacstophane cordinerius in Crossraguel, 1573, and WilliamM’Steenin Dunskeith (co. Ross), 1605.  Stevenson,Steenson, Macstophane, M’Steen: which is the original?which the translation?  Or were these separate creations ofthe patronymic, some English, some Gaelic?  The curiouslycompact territory in which we find them seated—Ayr, Lanark,Peebles, Stirling, Perth, Fife, and the Lothians—would seemto forbid the supposition. [9a]

‘Stevenson—or accordingto tradition of one of the proscribed of the clan MacGregor, whowas born among the willows or in a hill-sidesheep-pen—“Son of my love,” a heraldic barsinister, but history reveals a reason for the birth among thewillows far other than the sinister aspect of the name’:these are the dark words of Mr. Cosmo Innes; but history ortradition, being interrogated, tells a somewhat tangledtale.  The heir of Macgregor of Glenorchy, murdered about1858 by the Argyll Campbells, appears to have been the original‘Son of my love’; and his more loyal clansmen tookthe name to fight under.  It may be supposed the story oftheir resistance became popular, and the name in some sortidentified with the idea of opposition to the Campbells. Twice afterwards, on some renewed aggression, in 1502 and 1552,we find the Macgregors again banding themselves into a sept of‘Sons of my love’; and when the great disaster fellon them in 1603, the whole original legend reappears, and we havethe heir of Alaster of Glenstrae born ‘among thewillows’ of a fugitive mother, and the more loyal clansmenagain rallying under the name of Stevenson.  A story wouldnot be told so often unless it had some base in fact; nor (ifthere were no bond at all between the Red Macgregors and theStevensons) would that extraneous and somewhat uncouth name be somuch repeated in the legends of the Children of the Mist.

But I am enabled, by my very lively and obligingcorrespondent, Mr. George A. Macgregor Stevenson of New York, togive an actual instance.  His grandfather,great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, andgreat-great-great-grandfather, all used the names of Macgregorand Stevenson as occasion served; being perhaps Macgregor bynight and Stevenson by day.  Thegreat-great-great-grandfather was a mighty man of his hands,marched with the clan in the ‘Forty-five, and returned withspolia opimain the shape of a sword, which he had wrestedfrom an officer in the retreat, and which is in the possession ofmy correspondent to this day.  His great-grandson (thegrandfather of my correspondent), being converted to Methodism bysome wayside preacher, discarded in a moment his name, his oldnature, and his political principles, and with the zeal of aproselyte sealed his adherence to the Protestant Succession bybaptising his next son George.  This George became thepublisher and editor of the Wesleyan Times.  Hischildren were brought up in ignorance of their Highland pedigree;and my correspondent was puzzled to overhear his father speak ofhim as a true Macgregor, and amazed to find, in rummaging aboutthat peaceful and pious house, the sword of the Hanoverianofficer.  After he was grown up and was better informed ofhis descent, ‘I frequently asked my father,’ hewrites, ‘why he did not use the name of Macgregor; hisreplies were significant, and give a picture of the man:“It isn’t a good Methodistname.  You canuse it, but it will do you no good.”  Yet theold gentleman, by way of pleasantry, used to announce himself tofriends as “Colonel Macgregor.”’

Here, then, are certain Macgregors habitually using the nameof Stevenson, and at last, under the influence of Methodism,adopting it entirely.  Doubtless a proscribed clan could notbe particular; they took a name as a man takes an umbrellaagainst a shower; as Rob Roy took Campbell, and his son tookDrummond.  But this case is different; Stevenson was nottaken and left—it was consistently adhered to.  Itdoes not in the least follow that all Stevensons are of the clanAlpin; but it does follow that some may be.  And I cannotconceal from myself the possibility that James Stevenson inGlasgow, my first authentic ancestor, may have had a Highlandaliasupon his conscience and a claymore in his backparlour.

To one more tradition I may allude, that we are somehowdescended from a French barber-surgeon who came to St. Andrews inthe service of one of the Cardinal Beatons.  No details wereadded.  But the very name of France was so detested in myfamily for three generations, that I am tempted to suppose theremay be something in it. [12a]

CHAPTER I: DOMESTIC ANNALS

It is believed that in 1665, James Stevenson in NetherCarsewell, parish of Neilston, county of Renfrew, and presumablya tenant farmer, married one Jean Keir; and in 1675, withoutdoubt, there was born to these two a son Robert, possibly amaltster in Glasgow.  In 1710, Robert married, for a secondtime, Elizabeth Cumming, and there was born to them, in 1720,another Robert, certainly a maltster in Glasgow.  In 1742,Robert the second married Margaret Fulton (Margret, she calledherself), by whom he had ten children, among whom were Hugh, bornFebruary 1749, and Alan, born June 1752.

With these two brothers my story begins.  Their deathswere simultaneous; their lives unusually brief and full. Tradition whispered me in childhood they were the owners of anislet near St. Kitts; and it is certain they had risen to be atthe head of considerable interests in the West Indies, which Hughmanaged abroad and Alan at home, at an age when others are stillcurveting a clerk’s stool.  My kinsman, Mr. Stevensonof Stirling, has heard his father mention that there had been‘something romantic’ about Alan’s marriage:and, alas! he has forgotten what.  It was early atleast.  His wife was Jean, daughter of David Lillie, abuilder in Glasgow, and several times ‘Deacon of theWrights’: the date of the marriage has not reached me; buton 8th June 1772, when Robert, the only child of the union, wasborn, the husband and father had scarce passed, or had not yetattained, his twentieth year.  Here was a youth making hasteto give hostages to fortune.  But this early scene ofprosperity in love and business was on the point of closing.

There hung in the house of this young family, and successivelyin those of my grandfather and father, an oil painting of a shipof many tons burthen.  Doubtless the brothers had aninterest in the vessel; I was told she had belonged to themoutright; and the picture was preserved through years ofhardship, and remains to this day in the possession of thefamily, the only memorial of my great-grandsire Alan.  Itwas on this ship that he sailed on his last adventure, summonedto the West Indies by Hugh.  An agent had proved unfaithfulon a serious scale; and it used to be told me in my childhood howthe brothers pursued him from one island to another in an openboat, were exposed to the pernicious dews of the tropics, andsimultaneously struck down.  The dates and places of theirdeaths (now before me) would seem to indicate a more scatteredand prolonged pursuit: Hugh, on the 16th April 1774, in Tobago,within sight of Trinidad; Alan, so late as 26th May, and so faraway as ‘Santt Kittes,’ in the LeewardIslands—both, says the family Bible, ‘of afiver’(!).  The death of Hugh was probably announcedby Alan in a letter, to which we may refer the details of theopen boat and the dew.  Thus, at least, in something likethe course of post, both were called away, the one twenty-five,the other twenty-two; their brief generation became extinct,their short-lived house fell with them; and ‘in theselawless parts and lawless times’—the words are mygrandfather’s—their property was stolen or becameinvolved.  Many years later, I understand some smallrecovery to have been made; but at the moment almost the wholemeans of the family seem to have perished with the youngmerchants.  On the 27th April, eleven days after HughStevenson, twenty-nine before Alan, died David Lillie, the Deaconof the Wrights; so that mother and son were orphaned in onemonth.  Thus, from a few scraps of paper bearing littlebeyond dates, we construct the outlines of the tragedy thatshadowed the cradle of Robert Stevenson.

Jean Lillie was a young woman of strong sense, well fitted tocontend with poverty, and of a pious disposition, which it islike that these misfortunes heated.  Like so many otherwidowed Scots-women, she vowed her son should wag his head in apulpit; but her means were inadequate to her ambition.  Acharity school, and some time under a Mr. M’Intyre,‘a famous linguist,’ were all she could afford in theway of education to the would-be minister.  He learned noGreek; in one place he mentions that the Orations of Cicero werehis highest book in Latin; in another that he had‘delighted’ in Virgil and Horace; but his delightcould never have been scholarly.  This appears to have beenthe whole of his training previous to an event which changed hisown destiny and moulded that of his descendants—the secondmarriage of his mother.

There was a Merchant-Burgess of Edinburgh of the name ofThomas Smith.  The Smith pedigree has been traced a littlemore particularly than the Stevensons’, with a similardearth of illustrious names.  One character seems to haveappeared, indeed, for a moment at the wings of history: a skipperof Dundee who smuggled over some Jacobite big-wig at the time ofthe ‘Fifteen, and was afterwards drowned in Dundee harbourwhile going on board his ship.  With this exception, thegenerations of the Smiths present no conceivable interest even toa descendant; and Thomas, of Edinburgh, was the first to issuefrom respectable obscurity.  His father, a skipper out ofBroughty Ferry, was drowned at sea while Thomas was stillyoung.  He seems to have owned a ship or two—whalers,I suppose, or coasters—and to have been a member of theDundee Trinity House, whatever that implies.  On his deaththe widow remained in Broughty, and the son came to push hisfuture in Edinburgh.  There is a story told of him in thefamily which I repeat here because I shall have to tell later ona similar, but more perfectly authenticated, experience of hisstepson, Robert Stevenson.  Word reached Thomas that hismother was unwell, and he prepared to leave for Broughty on themorrow.  It was between two and three in the morning, andthe early northern daylight was already clear, when he awoke andbeheld the curtains at the bed-foot drawn aside and his motherappear in the interval, smile upon him for a moment, and thenvanish.  The sequel is stereo-type; he took the time by hiswatch, and arrived at Broughty to learn it was the very moment ofher death.  The incident is at least curious in havinghappened to such a person—as the tale is being told ofhim.  In all else, he appears as a man ardent, passionate,practical, designed for affairs and prospering in them far beyondthe average.  He founded a solid business in lamps and oils,and was the sole proprietor of a concern called the GreensideCompany’s Works—‘a multifarious concern itwas,’ writes my cousin, Professor Swan, ‘oftinsmiths, coppersmiths, brass-founders, blacksmiths, andjapanners.’  He was also, it seems, a shipowner andunderwriter.  He built himself ‘aland’—Nos. 1 and 2 Baxter’s Place, then no suchunfashionable neighbourhood—and died, leaving his only sonin easy circumstances, and giving to his three survivingdaughters portions of five thousand pounds and upwards. There is no standard of success in life; but in one of itsmeanings, this is to succeed.

In what we know of his opinions, he makes a figure highlycharacteristic of the time.  A high Tory and patriot, acaptain—so I find it in my notes—of EdinburghSpearmen, and on duty in the Castle during the Muir and Palmertroubles, he bequeathed to his descendants a bloodless sword anda somewhat violent tradition, both long preserved.  Thejudge who sat on Muir and Palmer, the famous Braxfield, let fallfrom the bench the obiter dictum—‘I neverliked the French all my days, but now I hate them.’ If Thomas Smith, the Edinburgh Spearman, were in court, he musthave been tempted to applaud.  The people of that land werehis abhorrence; he loathed Buonaparte like Antichrist. Towards the end he fell into a kind of dotage; his family mustentertain him with games of tin soldiers, which he took achildish pleasure to array and overset; but those who played withhim must be upon their guard, for if his side, which was alwaysthat of the English against the French, should chance to bedefeated, there would be trouble in Baxter’s Place. For these opinions he may almost be said to have suffered. Baptised and brought up in the Church of Scotland, he had, uponsome conscientious scruple, joined the communion of theBaptists.  Like other Nonconformists, these were inclined tothe Liberal side in politics, and, at least in the beginning,regarded Buonaparte as a deliverer.  From the time of hisjoining the Spearmen, Thomas Smith became in consequence abugbear to his brethren in the faith.   ‘Theythat take the sword shall perish with the sword,’ they toldhim; they gave him ‘no rest’; ‘his positionbecame intolerable’; it was plain he must choose betweenhis political and his religious tenets; and in the last years ofhis life, about 1812, he returned to the Church of hisfathers.

August 1786 was the date of his chief advancement, when,having designed a system of oil lights to take the place of theprimitive coal fires before in use, he was dubbed engineer to thenewly-formed Board of Northern Lighthouses.  Not only werehis fortunes bettered by the appointment, but he was introducedto a new and wider field for the exercise of his abilities, and anew way of life highly agreeable to his activeconstitution.  He seems to have rejoiced in the longjourneys, and to have combined them with the practice of fieldsports.  ‘A tall, stout man coming ashore with his gunover his arm’—so he was described to myfather—the only description that has come down to me by alight-keeper old in the service.  Nor did this change comealone.  On the 9th July of the same year, Thomas Smith hadbeen left for the second time a widower.  As he was stillbut thirty-three years old, prospering in his affairs, newlyadvanced in the world, and encumbered at the time with a familyof children, five in number, it was natural that he shouldentertain the notion of another wife.  Expeditious inbusiness, he was no less so in his choice; and it was not laterthan June 1787—for my grandfather is described as still inhis fifteenth year—that he married the widow of AlanStevenson.

The perilous experiment of bringing together two families foronce succeeded.  Mr. Smith’s two eldest daughters,Jean and Janet, fervent in piety, unwearied in kind deeds, werewell qualified both to appreciate and to attract the stepmother;and her son, on the other hand, seems to have found immediatefavour in the eyes of Mr. Smith.  It is, perhaps, easy toexaggerate the ready-made resemblances; the tired woman must havedone much to fashion girls who were under ten; the man, lusty andopinionated, must have stamped a strong impression on the boy offifteen.  But the cleavage of the family was too marked, theidentity of character and interest produced between the two menon the one hand, and the three women on the other, was toocomplete to have been the result of influence alone. Particular bonds of union must have pre-existed on eachside.  And there is no doubt that the man and the boy metwith common ambitions, and a common bent, to the practice of thatwhich had not so long before acquired the name of civilengineering.

For the profession which is now so thronged, famous, andinfluential, was then a thing of yesterday.  My grandfatherhad an anecdote of Smeaton, probably learned from John Clerk ofEldin, their common friend.  Smeaton was asked by the Dukeof Argyll to visit the West Highland coast for a professionalpurpose.  He refused, appalled, it seems, by the roughtravelling.  ‘You can recommend some other fitperson?’ asked the Duke.  ‘No,’ saidSmeaton, ‘I’m sorry I can’t.’ ‘What!’ cried the Duke, ‘a profession with onlyone man in it!  Pray, who taught you?’ ‘Why,’ said Smeaton, ‘I believe I may say I wasself-taught, an’t please your grace.’  Smeaton,at the date of Thomas Smith’s third marriage, was yetliving; and as the one had grown to the new profession from hisplace at the instrument-maker’s, the other was beginning toenter it by the way of his trade.  The engineer of to-day isconfronted with a library of acquired results; tables andformulae to the value of folios full have been calculated andrecorded; and the student finds everywhere in front of him thefootprints of the pioneers.  In the eighteenth century thefield was largely unexplored; the engineer must read with his owneyes the face of nature; he arose a volunteer, from the workshopor the mill, to undertake works which were at once inventions andadventures.  It was not a science then—it was a livingart; and it visibly grew under the eyes and between the hands ofits practitioners.

The charm of such an occupation was strongly felt bystepfather and stepson.  It chanced that Thomas Smith was areformer; the superiority of his proposed lamp and reflectorsover open fires of coal secured his appointment; and no soonerhad he set his hand to the task than the interest of thatemployment mastered him.  The vacant stage on which he wasto act, and where all had yet to be created—the greatnessof the difficulties, the smallness of the means intrustedhim—would rouse a man of his disposition like a call tobattle.  The lad introduced by marriage under his roof wasof a character to sympathise; the public usefulness of theservice would appeal to his judgment, the perpetual need forfresh expedients stimulate his ingenuity.  And there wasanother attraction which, in the younger man at least, appealedto, and perhaps first aroused, a profound and enduring sentimentof romance: I mean the attraction of the life.  The seasinto which his labours carried the new engineer were still scarcecharted, the coasts still dark; his way on shore was often farbeyond the convenience of any road; the isles in which he mustsojourn were still partly savage.  He must toss much inboats; he must often adventure on horseback by the dubiousbridle-track through unfrequented wildernesses; he must sometimesplant his lighthouse in the very camp of wreckers; and he wascontinually enforced to the vicissitudes of outdoor life. The joy of my grandfather in this career was strong as the loveof woman.  It lasted him through youth and manhood, itburned strong in age, and at the approach of death his lastyearning was to renew these loved experiences.  What he felthimself he continued to attribute to all around him.  And tothis supposed sentiment in others I find him continually, almostpathetically, appealing; often in vain.

Snared by these interests, the boy seems to have become almostat once the eager confidant and adviser of his new connection;the Church, if he had ever entertained the prospect very warmly,faded from his view; and at the age of nineteen I find himalready in a post of some authority, superintending theconstruction of the lighthouse on the isle of Little Cumbrae, inthe Firth of Clyde.  The change of aim seems to have causedor been accompanied by a change of character.  It soundsabsurd to couple the name of my grandfather with the wordindolence; but the lad who had been destined from the cradle tothe Church, and who had attained the age of fifteen withoutacquiring more than a moderate knowledge of Latin, was at leastno unusual student.  And from the day of his charge atLittle Cumbrae he steps before us what he remained until the end,a man of the most zealous industry, greedy of occupation, greedyof knowledge, a stern husband of time, a reader, a writer,unflagging in his task of self-improvement.  Thenceforwardhis summers were spent directing works and ruling workmen, now inuninhabited, now in half-savage islands; his winters were setapart, first at the Andersonian Institution, then at theUniversity of Edinburgh to improve himself in mathematics,chemistry, natural history, agriculture, moral philosophy, andlogic; a bearded student—although no doubt scrupulouslyshaved.  I find one reference to his years in class whichwill have a meaning for all who have studied in ScottishUniversities.  He mentions a recommendation made by theprofessor of logic.  ‘The high-school men,’ hewrites, ‘and bearded men like myself, were allattention.’  If my grandfather were throughout life athought too studious of the art of getting on, much must beforgiven to the bearded and belated student who looked across,with a sense of difference, at ‘the high-schoolmen.’  Here was a gulf to be crossed; but already hecould feel that he had made a beginning, and that must have beena proud hour when he devoted his earliest earnings to therepayment of the charitable foundation in which he had receivedthe rudiments of knowledge.

In yet another way he followed the example of hisfather-in-law, and from 1794 to 1807, when the affairs of theBell Rock made it necessary for him to resign, he served indifferent corps of volunteers.  In the last of these he roseto a position of distinction, no less than captain of theGrenadier Company, and his colonel, in accepting his resignation,entreated he would do them ‘the favour of continuing as anhonorary member of a corps which has been so much indebted foryour zeal and exertions.’

To very pious women the men of the house are apt to appearworldly.  The wife, as she puts on her new bonnet beforechurch, is apt to sigh over that assiduity which enabled herhusband to pay the milliner’s bill.  And in thehousehold of the Smiths and Stevensons the women were not onlyextremely pious, but the men were in reality a trifleworldly.  Religious they both were; conscious, like allScots, of the fragility and unreality of that scene in which weplay our uncomprehended parts; like all Scots, realising dailyand hourly the sense of another will than ours and a perpetualdirection in the affairs of life.  But the current of theirendeavours flowed in a more obvious channel.  They had goton so far; to get on further was their next ambition—togather wealth, to rise in society, to leave their descendantshigher than themselves, to be (in some sense) among the foundersof families.  Scott was in the same town nourishing similardreams.  But in the eyes of the women these dreams would befoolish and idolatrous.

I have before me some volumes of old letters addressed to Mrs.Smith and the two girls, her favourites, which depict in a stronglight their characters and the society in which they moved.

‘My very dear and much esteemedFriend,’ writes one correspondent, ‘this day beingthe anniversary of our acquaintance, I feel inclined to addressyou; but where shall I find words to express the fealings of agraitful Heart, first to the Lord who graiciously inclinedyou on this day last year to notice an afflicted Straingerprovidentially cast in your way far from any Earthly friend? . ..  Methinks I shall hear him say unto you, “Inasmuchas ye shewed kindness to my afflicted handmaiden, ye did it untome.”’

This is to Jean; but the same afflicted lady wroteindifferently to Jean, to Janet, and to Ms. Smith, whom she calls‘my Edinburgh mother.’  It is plain the threewere as one person, moving to acts of kindness, like the Graces,inarmed.  Too much stress must not be laid on the style ofthis correspondence; Clarinda survived, not far away, and mayhave met the ladies on the Calton Hill; and many of the writersappear, underneath the conventions of the period, to be genuinelymoved.  But what unpleasantly strikes a reader is, thatthese devout unfortunates found a revenue in theirdevotion.  It is everywhere the same tale; on the side ofthe soft-hearted ladies, substantial acts of help; on the side ofthe correspondents, affection, italics, texts, ecstasies, andimperfect spelling.  When a midwife is recommended, not atall for proficiency in her important art, but because she has‘a sister whom I [the correspondent] esteem and respect,and [who] is a spiritual daughter of my Hond Father in theGosple,’ the mask seems to be torn off, and the wages ofgodliness appear too openly.  Capacity is a secondary matterin a midwife, temper in a servant, affection in a daughter, andthe repetition of a shibboleth fulfils the law.  Commondecency is at times forgot in the same page with the mostsanctified advice and aspiration.  Thus I am introduced to acorrespondent who appears to have been at the time thehousekeeper at Invermay, and who writes to condole with mygrandmother in a season of distress.  For nearly half asheet she keeps to the point with an excellent discretion inlanguage then suddenly breaks out:

‘It was fully my intention to have left thisat Martinmass, but the Lord fixes the bounds of ourhabitation.  I have had more need of patience in mysituation here than in any other, partly from the very violent,unsteady, deceitful temper of the Mistress of the Family, andalso from the state of the house.  It was in a train ofrepair when I came here two years ago, and is still inConfusion.  There is above six Thousand Pounds’ worthof Furniture come from London to be put up when the rooms arecompletely finished; and then, woe be to the Person who isHousekeeper at Invermay!’

And by the tail of the document, which is torn, I see she goeson to ask the bereaved family to seek her a new place.  Itis extraordinary that people should have been so deceived in socareless an impostor; that a few sprinkled ‘Godwillings’ should have blinded them to the essence of thisvenomous letter; and that they should have been at the pains tobind it in with others (many of them highly touching) in theirmemorial of harrowing days.  But the good ladies werewithout guile and without suspicion; they were victims marked forthe axe, and the religious impostors snuffed up the wind as theydrew near.

I have referred above to my grandmother; it was no slip of thepen: for by an extraordinary arrangement, in which it is hard notto suspect the managing hand of a mother, Jean Smith became thewife of Robert Stevenson.  Mrs. Smith had failed in herdesign to make her son a minister, and she saw him daily moreimmersed in business and worldly ambition.  One thingremained that she might do: she might secure for him a godlywife, that great means of sanctification; and she had two underher hand, trained by herself, her dear friends and daughters bothin law and love—Jean and Janet.  Jean’scomplexion was extremely pale, Janet’s was florid; mygrandmother’s nose was straight, my great-aunt’saquiline; but by the sound of the voice, not even a son was ableto distinguish one from other.  The marriage of a man oftwenty-seven and a girl of twenty who have lived for twelve yearsas brother and sister, is difficult to conceive.  It tookplace, however, and thus in 1799 the family was still furthercemented by the union of a representative of the male or worldlyelement with one of the female and devout.

This essential difference remained unbridged, yet neverdiminished the strength of their relation.  My grandfatherpursued his design of advancing in the world with some measure ofsuccess; rose to distinction in his calling, grew to be thefamiliar of members of Parliament, judges of the Court ofSession, and ‘landed gentlemen’; learned a readyaddress, had a flow of interesting conversation, and when he wasreferred to as ‘a highly respectablebourgeois,’ resented the description.  Mygrandmother remained to the end devout and unambitious, occupiedwith her Bible, her children, and her house; easily shocked, andassociating largely with a clique of godly parasites.  I donot know if she called in the midwife already referred to; butthe principle on which that lady was recommended, she acceptedfully.  The cook was a godly woman, the butcher a Christianman, and the table suffered.  The scene has been oftendescribed to me of my grandfather sawing with darkenedcountenance at some indissoluble joint—‘Preserve me,my dear, what kind of a reedy, stringy beast isthis?’—of the joint removed, the pudding substitutedand uncovered; and of my grandmother’s anxious glance andhasty, deprecatory comment, ‘Just mismanaged!’ Yet with the invincible obstinacy of soft natures, she wouldadhere to the godly woman and the Christian man, or find othersof the same kidney to replace them.  One of her confidantshad once a narrow escape; an unwieldy old woman, she had fallenfrom an outside stair in a close of the Old Town; and mygrandmother rejoiced to communicate the providential circumstancethat a baker had been passing underneath with his bread upon hishead.  ‘I would like to know what kind of providencethe baker thought it!’ cried my grandfather.

But the sally must have been unique.  In all else that Ihave heard or read of him, so far from criticising, he was doinghis utmost to honour and even to emulate his wife’spronounced opinions.  In the only letter which has come tomy hand of Thomas Smith’s, I find him informing his wifethat he was ‘in time for afternoon church’; similarassurances or cognate excuses abound in the correspondence ofRobert Stevenson; and it is comical and pretty to see the twogenerations paying the same court to a female piety more highlystrung: Thomas Smith to the mother of RobertStevenson—Robert Stevenson to the daughter of ThomasSmith.  And if for once my grandfather suffered himself tobe hurried, by his sense of humour and justice, into that remarkabout the case of Providence and the Baker, I should be sorry forany of his children who should have stumbled into the sameattitude of criticism.  In the apocalyptic style of thehousekeeper of Invermay, woe be to that person!  But therewas no fear; husband and sons all entertained for the pious,tender soul the same chivalrous and moved affection.  I havespoken with one who remembered her, and who had been the intimateand equal of her sons, and I found this witness had been struck,as I had been, with a sense of disproportion between the warmthof the adoration felt and the nature of the woman, whether asdescribed or observed.  She diligently read and marked herBible; she was a tender nurse; she had a sense of humour understrong control; she talked and found some amusement at her (orrather at her husband’s) dinner-parties.  It isconceivable that even my grandmother was amenable to theseductions of dress; at least, I find her husband inquiringanxiously about ‘the gowns from Glasgow,’ and verycareful to describe the toilet of the Princess Charlotte, whom hehad seen in church ‘in a Pelisse and Bonnet of the samecolour of cloth as the Boys’ Dress jackets, trimmed withblue satin ribbons; the hat or Bonnet, Mr. Spittal said, was aParisian slouch, and had a plume of three whitefeathers.’  But all this leaves a blank impression,and it is rather by reading backward in these old musty letters,which have moved me now to laughter and now to impatience, that Iglean occasional glimpses of how she seemed to hercontemporaries, and trace (at work in her queer world of godlyand grateful parasites) a mobile and responsive nature. Fashion moulds us, and particularly women, deeper than wesometimes think; but a little while ago, and, in some circles,women stood or fell by the degree of their appreciation of oldpictures; in the early years of the century (and surely with morereason) a character like that of my grandmother warmed, charmed,and subdued, like a strain of music, the hearts of the men of herown household.  And there is little doubt that Mrs. Smith,as she looked on at the domestic life of her son and herstepdaughter, and numbered the heads in their increasing nursery,must have breathed fervent thanks to her Creator.

Yet this was to be a family unusually tried; it was not fornothing that one of the godly women saluted Miss Janet Smith as‘a veteran in affliction’; and they were all beforemiddle life experienced in that form of service.  By the 1stof January 1808, besides a pair of still-born twins, children hadbeen born and still survived to the young couple.  By the11th two were gone; by the 28th a third had followed, and the twoothers were still in danger.  In the letters of a formernurserymaid—I give her name, Jean Mitchell, honoriscausa—we are enabled to feel, even at this distance oftime, some of the bitterness of that month of bereavement.

‘I have this day received,’ she writesto Miss Janet, ‘the melancholy news of my dear babys’deaths.  My heart is like to break for my dear Mrs.Stevenson.  O may she be supported on this tryingoccasion!  I hope her other three babys will be spared toher.  O, Miss Smith, did I think when I parted from my sweetbabys that I never was to see them more?’  ‘Ireceived,’ she begins her next, ‘the mournful news ofmy dear Jessie’s death.  I also received the hair ofmy three sweet babys, which I will preserve as dear to theirmemorys and as a token of Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson’sfriendship and esteem.  At my leisure hours, when thechildren are in bed, they occupy all my thoughts, I dream ofthem.  About two weeks ago I dreamed that my sweet littleJessie came running to me in her usual way, and I took her in myarms.  O my dear babys, were mortal eyes permitted to seethem in heaven, we would not repine nor grieve for theirloss.’

By the 29th of February, the Reverend John Campbell, a man ofobvious sense and human value, but hateful to the presentbiographer, because he wrote so many letters and conveyed solittle information, summed up this first period of affliction ina letter to Miss Smith: ‘Your dear sister but a littlewhile ago had a full nursery, and the dear blooming creaturessitting around her table filled her breast with hope that one daythey should fill active stations in society and become anornament in the Church below.  But ah!’

Near a hundred years ago these little creatures ceased to be,and for not much less a period the tears have been dried. And to this day, looking in these stitched sheaves of letters, wehear the sound of many soft-hearted women sobbing for thelost.  Never was such a massacre of the innocents; teethingand chincough and scarlet fever and smallpox ran the round; andlittle Lillies, and Smiths, and Stevensons fell like moths abouta candle; and nearly all the sympathetic correspondents deploreand recall the little losses of their own.  ‘It isimpossible to describe the Heavnly looks of the Dear Babe thethree last days of his life,’ writes Mrs. Laurie to Mrs.Smith.  ‘Never—never, my dear aunt, could I wishto eface the rememberance of this Dear Child.  Never, never,my dear aunt!’  And so soon the memory of the dead andthe dust of the survivors are buried in one grave.

There was another death in 1812; it passes almost unremarked;a single funeral seemed but a small event to these‘veterans in affliction’; and by 1816 the nursery wasfull again.  Seven little hopefuls enlivened the house; somewere growing up; to the elder girl my grandfather already wrotenotes in current hand at the tail of his letters to his wife: andto the elder boys he had begun to print, with laborious care,sheets of childish gossip and pedantic applications.  Here,for instance, under date of 26th May 1816, is part of amythological account of London, with a moral for the threegentlemen, ‘Messieurs Alan, Robert, and JamesStevenson,’ to whom the document is addressed:

‘There are many prisons here like Bridewell,for, like other large towns, there are many bad men here as wellas many good men.  The natives of London are in general notso tall and strong as the people of Edinburgh, because they havenot so much pure air, and instead of taking porridge they eatcakes made with sugar and plums.  Here you have thousands ofcarts to draw timber, thousands of coaches to take you to allparts of the town, and thousands of boats to sail on the riverThames.  But you must have money to pay, otherwise you canget nothing.  Now the way to get money is, become clever menand men of education, by being good scholars.’

From the same absence, he writes to his wife on a Sunday:

‘It is now about eight o’clock withme, and I imagine you to be busy with the young folks, hearingthe questions [Anglicé, catechism], and indulgingthe boys with a chapter from the large Bible, with theirinterrogations and your answers in the soundest doctrine.  Ihope James is getting his verse as usual, and that Mary is notforgetting her little hymn.  While Jeannie will bereading Wotherspoon, or some other suitable and instructive book,I presume our friend, Aunt Mary, will have just arrived with thenews of a throng kirk[a crowded church] and a greatsermon.  You may mention, with my compliments to my mother,that I was at St. Paul’s to-day, and attended a veryexcellent service with Mr. James Lawrie.  The text was“Examine and see that ye be in the faith.”’

A twinkle of humour lights up this evocation of the distantscene—the humour of happy men and happy homes.  Yet itis penned upon the threshold of fresh sorrow.  James andMary—he of the verse and she of the hymn—did not muchmore than survive to welcome their returning father.  On the25th, one of the godly women writes to Janet:

‘My dearest beloved madam, when I lastparted from you, you was so affected with your affliction [you?or I?] could think of nothing else.  But on Saturday, when Iwent to inquire after your health, how was I startled to hearthat dear James was gone!  Ah, what is this?  My dearbenefactors, doing so much good to many, to the Lord, suddenly tobe deprived of their most valued comforts!  I was throwninto great perplexity, could do nothing but murmur, why thesethings were done to such a family.  I could not rest, but atmidnight, whether spoken [or not] it was presented to mymind—“Those whom ye deplore are walking with me inwhite.”  I conclude from this the Lord saying to sweetMrs. Stevenson: “I gave them to be brought up for me: welldone, good and faithful! they are fully prepared, and now I mustpresent them to my father and your father, to my God and yourGod.”’

It would be hard to lay on flattery with a more sure anddaring hand.  I quote it as a model of a letter ofcondolence; be sure it would console.  Very different,perhaps quite as welcome, is this from a lighthouse inspector tomy grandfather:

‘In reading your letter the trickling tearran down ray cheeks in silent sorrow for your departed dear ones,my sweet little friends.  Well do I remember, and you willcall to mind, their little innocent and interestingstories.  Often have they come round me and taken me by thehand, but alas!  I am no more destined to beholdthem.’

The child who is taken becomes canonised, and the looks of thehomeliest babe seem in the retrospect ‘heavenly the threelast days of his life.’  But it appears that James andMary had indeed been children more than usually engaging; arecord was preserved a long while in the family of their remarksand ‘little innocent and interesting stories,’ andthe blow and the blank were the more sensible.

Early the next month Robert Stevenson must proceed upon hisvoyage of inspection, part by land, part by sea.  He lefthis wife plunged in low spirits; the thought of his loss, andstill more of her concern, was continually present in his mind,and he draws in his letters home an interesting picture of hisfamily relations:

‘WindygatesInn, Monday(Postmark July16th)

‘My dearestJeannie,—While the people of the inn are getting mea little bit of something to eat, I sit down to tell you that Ihad a most excellent passage across the water, and got to Wemyssat mid-day.  I hope the children will be very good, and thatRobert will take a course with you to learn his Latin lessonsdaily; he may, however, read English in company.  Let themhave strawberries on Saturdays.’

‘Westhaven, 17thJuly.

‘I have been occupied to-day at the harbour of Newport,opposite Dundee, and am this far on my way to Arbroath.  Youmay tell the boys that I slept last night in Mr. Steadman’stent.  I found my bed rather hard, but the lodgings wereotherwise extremely comfortable.  The encampment is on theFife side of the Tay, immediately opposite to Dundee.  Fromthe door of the tent you command the most beautiful view of theFirth, both up and down, to a great extent.  At night allwas serene and still, the sky presented the most beautifulappearance of bright stars, and the morning was ushered in withthe song of many little birds.’

‘Aberdeen, July19th.

‘I hope, my dear, that you are going out of doorsregularly and taking much exercise.  I would have you tomake the markets daily—and by all means to take aseat in the coach once or twice in the week and see what is goingon in town.  [The family were at the sea-side.]  Itwill be good not to be too great a stranger to the house. It will be rather painful at first, but as it is to be done, Iwould have you not to be too strange to the house in town.

‘Tell the boys that I fell in with a soldier—hisname is Henderson—who was twelve years with Lord Wellingtonand other commanders.  He returned very lately with onlyeightpence-halfpenny in his pocket, and found his father andmother both in life, though they had never heard from him, nor hefrom them.  He carried my great-coat and umbrella a fewmiles.’

‘Fraserburgh,July20th.

‘Fraserburgh is the same dull place which [Auntie] Maryand Jeannie found it.  As I am travelling along the coastwhich they are acquainted with, you had better cause Robert bringdown the map from Edinburgh; and it will be a good exercise ingeography for the young folks to trace my course.  I hopethey have entered upon the writing.  The library will affordabundance of excellent books, which I wish you would employ alittle.  I hope you are doing me the favour to go much outwith the boys, which will do you much good and prevent them fromgetting so very much overheated.’

[To theBoys—Printed.]

‘When I had last the pleasure of writing toyou, your dear little brother James and your sweet little sisterMary were still with us.  But it has pleased God to removethem to another and a better world, and we must submit to thewill of Providence.  I must, however, request of you tothink sometimes upon them, and to be very careful not to doanything that will displease or vex your mother.  It istherefore proper that you do not roamp [Scottish indeed] too muchabout, and that you learn your lessons.’

‘I went to Fraserburgh and visited Kinnaird HeadLighthouse, which I found in good order.  All this time Itravelled upon good roads, and paid many a toll-man by the way;but from Fraserburgh to Banff there is no toll-bars, and the roadis so bad that I had to walk up and down many a hill, and forwant of bridges the horses had to drag the chaise up to themiddle of the wheels in water.  At Banff I saw a large shipof 300 tons lying on the sands upon her beam-ends, and a wreckfor want of a good harbour.  Captain Wilson—to whom Ibeg my compliments—will show you a ship of 300 tons. At the towns of Macduff, Banff, and Portsoy, many of the housesare built of marble, and the rocks on this part of the coast orsea-side are marble.  But, my dear Boys, unless marble bepolished and dressed, it is a very coarse-looking stone, and hasno more beauty than common rock.  As a proof of this, askthe favour of your mother to take you to Thomson’s MarbleWorks in South Leith, and you will see marble in all its stages,and perhaps you may there find Portsoy marble!  The use Iwish to make of this is to tell you that, without education, aman is just like a block of rough, unpolished marble. Notice, in proof of this, how much Mr. Neill and Mr.M’Gregor [the tutor] know, and observe how little a manknows who is not a good scholar.  On my way to Fochabers Ipassed through many thousand acres of Fir timber, and saw manydeer running in these woods.’

[To Mrs. Stevenson.]

‘Inverness, July21st.

‘I propose going to church in the afternoon, and as Ihave breakfasted late, I shall afterwards take a walk, and dineabout six o’clock.  I do not know who is the clergymanhere, but I shall think of you all.  I travelled in themail-coach [from Banff] almost alone.  While it was daylightI kept the top, and the passing along a country I had neverbefore seen was a considerable amusement.  But, my dear, youare all much in my thoughts, and many are the objects whichrecall the recollection of our tender and engaging children wehave so recently lost.  We must not, however, repine. I could not for a moment wish any change of circumstances intheir case; and in every comparative view of their state, I seethe Lord’s goodness in removing them from an evil world toan abode of bliss; and I must earnestly hope that you may beenabled to take such a view of this affliction as to live in thehappy prospect of our all meeting again to part no more—andthat under such considerations you are getting up yourspirits.  I wish you would walk about, and by all means goto town, and do not sit much at home.’

‘Inverness, July23rd.

‘I am duly favoured with your much-valued letter, and Iam happy to find that you are so much with my mother, becausethat sort of variety has a tendency to occupy the mind, and tokeep it from brooding too much upon one subject. Sensibility and tenderness are certainly two of the mostinteresting and pleasing qualities of the mind.  Thesequalities are also none of the least of the many endearingmentsof the female character.  But if that kind of sympathy andpleasing melancholy, which is familiar to us under distress, bemuch indulged, it becomes habitual, and takes such a hold of themind as to absorb all the other affections, and unfit us for theduties and proper enjoyments of life.  Resignation sinksinto a kind of peevish discontent.  I am far, however, fromthinking there is the least danger of this in your case, my dear;for you have been on all occasions enabled to look upon thefortunes of this life as under the direction of a higher power,and have always preserved that propriety and consistency ofconduct in all circumstances which endears your example to yourfamily in particular, and to your friends.  I am therefore,my dear, for you to go out much, and to go to the house up-stairs[he means to go up-stairs in the house, to visit the place of thedead children], and to put yourself in the way of the visits ofyour friends.  I wish you would call on the Miss Grays, andit would be a good thing upon a Saturday to dine with my mother,and take Meggy and all the family with you, and let them havetheir strawberries in town.  The tickets of one of theold-fashioned coacheswould take you all up, and if theevening were good, they could all walk down, excepting Meggy andlittle David.’

‘Inverness, July25th, 11 p.m.

‘Captain Wemyss, of Wemyss, has come to Inverness to gothe voyage with me, and as we are sleeping in a double-beddedroom, I must no longer transgress.  You must remember me thebest way you can to the children.’

‘On board of the LighthouseYacht, July29th.

‘I got to Cromarty yesterday about mid-day, and went tochurch.  It happened to be the sacrament there, and I hearda Mr. Smith at that place conclude the service with a verysuitable exhortation.  There seemed a great concourse ofpeople, but they had rather an unfortunate day for them at thetent, as it rained a good deal.  After drinking tea at theinn, Captain Wemyss accompanied me on board, and we sailed abouteight last night.  The wind at present being rather abeating one, I think I shall have an opportunity of standing intothe bay of Wick, and leaving this letter to let you know myprogress and that I am well.’

‘Lighthouse Yacht,Stornoway, August4th.

‘To-day we had prayers on deck as usual when atsea.  I read the 14th chapter, I think, of Job. Captain Wemyss has been in the habit of doing this on board hisown ship, agreeably to the Articles of War.  Our passageround the Cape [Cape Wrath] was rather a cross one, and as thewind was northerly, we had a pretty heavy sea, but upon the wholehave made a good passage, leaving many vessels behind us inOrkney.  I am quite well, my dear; and Captain Wemyss, whohas much spirit, and who is much given to observation, and aperfect enthusiast in his profession, enlivens the voyagegreatly.  Let me entreat you to move about much, and take awalk with the boys to Leith.  I think they have still manyplaces to see there, and I wish you would indulge them in thisrespect.  Mr. Scales is the best person I know for showingthem the sailcloth-weaving, etc., and he would have greatpleasure in undertaking this.  My dear, I trust soon to bewith you, and that through the goodness of God we shall meet allwell.’

‘There are two vessels lying here with emigrants forAmerica, each with eighty people on board, at all ages, from afew days to upwards of sixty!  Their prospects must be veryforlorn to go with a slender purse for distant and unknowncountries.’

‘Lighthouse Yacht,off Greenock, Aug.18th.

‘It was after church-timebefore we got here, butwe had prayers upon deck on the way up the Clyde.  This has,upon the whole, been a very good voyage, and Captain Wemyss, whoenjoys it much, has been an excellent companion; we met withpleasure, and shall part with regret.’

Strange that, after his long experience, my grandfather shouldhave learned so little of the attitude and even the dialect ofthe spiritually-minded; that after forty-four years in a mostreligious circle, he could drop without sense of incongruity froma period of accepted phrases to ‘trust his wife wasgetting up her spirits,’ or think to reassure her asto the character of Captain Wemyss by mentioning that he had readprayers on the deck of his frigate ‘agreeably to theArticles of War’!  Yet there is no doubt—andit is one of the most agreeable features of the kindlyseries—that he was doing his best to please, and there islittle doubt that he succeeded.  Almost all mygrandfather’s private letters have been destroyed. This correspondence has not only been preserved entire, butstitched up in the same covers with the works of the godly women,the Reverend John Campbell, and the painful Mrs. Ogle.  Idid not think to mention the good dame, but she comes in usefullyas an example.  Amongst the treasures of the ladies of myfamily, her letters have been honoured with a volume tothemselves.  I read about a half of them myself; then handedover the task to one of stauncher resolution, with orders tocommunicate any fact that should be found to illuminate thesepages.  Not one was found; it was her only art tocommunicate by post second-rate sermons at second-hand; and such,I take it, was the correspondence in which my grandmotherdelighted.  If I am right, that of Robert Stevenson, withhis quaint smack of the contemporary ‘Sandford andMerton,’ his interest in the whole page of experience, hisperpetual quest, and fine scent of all that seems romantic to aboy, his needless pomp of language, his excellent good sense, hisunfeigned, unstained, unwearied human kindliness, would seem toher, in a comparison, dry and trivial and worldly.  And ifthese letters were by an exception cherished and preserved, itwould be for one or both of two reasons—because they dealtwith and were bitter-sweet reminders of a time of sorrow; orbecause she was pleased, perhaps touched, by the writer’sguileless efforts to seem spiritually-minded.

After this date there were two more births and two moredeaths, so that the number of the family remained unchanged; inall five children survived to reach maturity and to outlive theirparents.

CHAPTER II: THE SERVICE OF THE NORTHERN LIGHTS

I

It were hard to imagine a contrast more sharply defined thanthat between the lives of the men and women of this family: theone so chambered, so centred in the affections and thesensibilities; the other so active, healthy, andexpeditious.  From May to November, Thomas Smith and RobertStevenson were on the mail, in the saddle, or at sea; and mygrandfather, in particular, seems to have been possessed with ademon of activity in travel.  In 1802, by direction of theNorthern Lighthouse Board, he had visited the coast of Englandfrom St. Bees, in Cumberland, and round by the Scilly Islands tosome place undecipherable by me; in all a distance of 2500miles.  In 1806 I find him starting ‘on a tour roundthe south coast of England, from the Humber to theSevern.’  Peace was not long declared ere he foundmeans to visit Holland, where he was in time to see, in thenavy-yard at Helvoetsluys, ‘about twenty ofBonaparte’s English flotillalying in a state ofdecay, the object of curiosity to Englishmen.’  By1834 he seems to have been acquainted with the coast of Francefrom Dieppe to Bordeaux; and a main part of his duty as Engineerto the Board of Northern Lights was one round of dangerous andlaborious travel.

In 1786, when Thomas Smith first received the appointment, theextended and formidable coast of Scotland was lighted at a singlepoint—the Isle of May, in the jaws of the Firth of Forth,where, on a tower already a hundred and fifty years old, an opencoal-fire blazed in an iron chauffer.  The wholearchipelago, thus nightly plunged in darkness, was shunned bysea-going vessels, and the favourite courses were north aboutShetland and west about St. Kilda.  When the Board met, fournew lights formed the extent of their intentions—KinnairdHead, in Aberdeenshire, at the eastern elbow of the coast; NorthRonaldsay, in Orkney, to keep the north and guide ships passingto the south’ard of Shetland; Island Glass, on Harris, tomark the inner shore of the Hebrides and illuminate thenavigation of the Minch; and the Mull of Kintyre.  Theseworks were to be attempted against obstacles, material andfinancial, that might have staggered the most bold.  Smithhad no ship at his command till 1791; the roads in thoseoutlandish quarters where his business lay were scarce passablewhen they existed, and the tower on the Mull of Kintyre stoodeleven months unlighted while the apparatus toiled and founderedby the way among rocks and mosses.  Not only had towers tobe built and apparatus transplanted; the supply of oil must bemaintained, and the men fed, in the same inaccessible and distantscenes; a whole service, with its routine and hierarchy, had tobe called out of nothing; and a new trade (that of lightkeeper)to be taught, recruited, and organised.  The funds of theBoard were at the first laughably inadequate.  They embarkedon their career on a loan of twelve hundred pounds, and theirincome in 1789, after relief by a fresh Act of Parliament,amounted to less than three hundred.  It must be supposedthat the thoughts of Thomas Smith, in these early years, weresometimes coloured with despair; and since he built and lightedone tower after another, and created and bequeathed to hissuccessors the elements of an excellent administration, it may beconceded that he was not after all an unfortunate choice for afirst engineer.

War added fresh complications.  In 1794 Smith came‘very near to be taken’ by a French squadron. In 1813 Robert Stevenson was cruising about the neighbourhood ofCape Wrath in the immediate fear of Commodore Rogers.  Themen, and especially the sailors, of the lighthouse service mustbe protected by a medal and ticket from the brutal activity ofthe press-gang.  And the zeal of volunteer patriots was attimes embarrassing.

‘I set off on foot,’ writes mygrandfather, ‘for Marazion, a town at the head ofMount’s Bay, where I was in hopes of getting a boat tofreight.  I had just got that length, and was making thenecessary inquiry, when a young man, accompanied by severalidle-looking fellows, came up to me, and in a hasty tone said,“Sir, in the king’s name I seize your person andpapers.”  To which I replied that I should be glad tosee his authority, and know the reason of an address soabrupt.  He told me the want of time prevented his takingregular steps, but that it would be necessary for me to return toPenzance, as I was suspected of being a French spy.  Iproposed to submit my papers to the nearest Justice of Peace, whowas immediately applied to, and came to the inn where Iwas.  He seemed to be greatly agitated, and quite at a losshow to proceed.  The complaint preferred against me was“that I had examined the Longships Lighthouse with the mostminute attention, and was no less particular in my inquiries atthe keepers of the lighthouse regarding the sunk rocks lying offthe Land’s End, with the sets of the currents and tidesalong the coast: that I seemed particularly to regret thesituation of the rocks called the Seven Stones, and the loss of abeacon which the Trinity Board had caused to be fixed on the WolfRock; that I had taken notes of the bearings of several sunkrocks, and a drawing of the lighthouse, and of CapeCornwall.  Further, that I had refused the honour of LordEdgecombe’s invitation to dinner, offering as an apologythat I had some particular business on hand.”’

My grandfather produced in answer his credentials and letterof credit; but the justice, after perusing them, ‘verygravely observed that they were “musty bits ofpaper,”’ and proposed to maintain the arrest. Some more enlightened magistrates at Penzance relieved him ofsuspicion and left him at liberty to pursue hisjourney,—‘which I did with so much eagerness,’he adds, ‘that I gave the two coal lights on the Lizardonly a very transient look.’

Lighthouse operations in Scotland differed essentially incharacter from those in England.  The English coast is incomparison a habitable, homely place, well supplied with towns;the Scottish presents hundreds of miles of savage islands anddesolate moors.  The Parliamentary committee of 1834,profoundly ignorant of this distinction, insisted with mygrandfather that the work at the various stations should be letout on contract ‘in the neighbourhood,’ where sheepand deer, and gulls and cormorants, and a few ragged gillies,perhaps crouching in a bee-hive house, made up the onlyneighbours.  In such situations repairs and improvementscould only be overtaken by collecting (as my grandfatherexpressed it) a few ‘lads,’ placing them under chargeof a foreman, and despatching them about the coast as occasionserved.  The particular danger of these seas increased thedifficulty.  The course of the lighthouse tender lies amidiron-bound coasts, among tide-races, the whirlpools of thePentland Firth, flocks of islands, flocks of reefs, many of themuncharted.  The aid of steam was not yet.  At first inrandom coasting sloop, and afterwards in the cutter belonging tothe service, the engineer must ply and run amongst thesemultiplied dangers, and sometimes late into the stormyautumn.  For pages together my grandfather’s diarypreserves a record of these rude experiences; of hard winds andrough seas; and of ‘the try-sail and storm-jib, those oldfriends which I never like to see.’  They do not temptto quotation, but it was the man’s element, in which helived, and delighted to live, and some specimen must bepresented.  On Friday, September 10th, 1830, theRegentlying in Lerwick Bay, we have this entry:‘The gale increases, with continued rain.’  Onthe morrow, Saturday, 11th, the weather appeared to moderate, andthey put to sea, only to be driven by evening intoLevenswick.  There they lay, ‘rolling much,’with both anchors ahead and the square yard on deck, till themorning of Saturday, 18th.  Saturday and Sunday they wereplying to the southward with a ‘strong breeze and a heavysea,’ and on Sunday evening anchored in Otterswick. ‘Monday, 20th, it blows so fresh that we have nocommunication with the shore.  We see Mr. Rome on the beach,but we cannot communicate with him.  It blows “merefire,” as the sailors express it.’  And forthree days more the diary goes on with tales of davits unshipped,high seas, strong gales from the southward, and the ship drivento refuge in Kirkwall or Deer Sound.  I have many a passagebefore me to transcribe, in which my grandfather draws himself asa man of minute and anxious exactitude about details.  Itmust not be forgotten that these voyages in the tender were theparticular pleasure and reward of his existence; that he had inhim a reserve of romance which carried him delightedly over thesehardships and perils; that to him it was ‘great gain’to be eight nights and seven days in the savage bay ofLevenswick—to read a book in the much agitatedcabin—to go on deck and hear the gale scream in his ears,and see the landscape dark with rain and the ship plunge at hertwo anchors—and to turn in at night and wake again atmorning, in his narrow berth, to the glamorous and continuedvoices of the gale.

His perils and escapes were beyond counting.  I shallonly refer to two: the first, because of the impression made uponhimself; the second, from the incidental picture it presents ofthe north islanders.  On the 9th October 1794 he tookpassage from Orkney in the sloop ElizabethofStromness.  She made a fair passage till within view ofKinnaird Head, where, as she was becalmed some three miles in theoffing, and wind seemed to threaten from the south-east, thecaptain landed him, to continue his journey more expeditiouslyashore.  A gale immediately followed, and theElizabethwas driven back to Orkney and lost with allhands.  The second escape I have been in the habit ofhearing related by an eye-witness, my own father, from theearliest days of childhood.  On a September night, theRegentlay in the Pentland Firth in a fog and a violentand windless swell.  It was still dark, when they werealarmed by the sound of breakers, and an anchor was immediatelylet go.  The peep of dawn discovered them swinging indesperate proximity to the Isle of Swona [54a] and the surf bursting close undertheir stern.  There was in this place a hamlet of theinhabitants, fisher-folk and wreckers; their huts stood closeabout the head of the beach.  All slept; the doors wereclosed, and there was no smoke, and the anxious watchers on boardship seemed to contemplate a village of the dead.  It wasthought possible to launch a boat and tow the Regentfromher place of danger; and with this view a signal of distress wasmade and a gun fired with a red-hot poker from the galley. Its detonation awoke the sleepers.  Door after door wasopened, and in the grey light of the morning fisher after fisherwas seen to come forth, yawning and stretching himself, nightcapon head.  Fisher after fisher, I wrote, and my pen tripped;for it should rather stand wrecker after wrecker.  There wasno emotion, no animation, it scarce seemed any interest; not ahand was raised; but all callously awaited the harvest of thesea, and their children stood by their side and waitedalso.  To the end of his life, my father remembered thatamphitheatre of placid spectators on the beach; and with aspecial and natural animosity, the boys of his own age.  Butpresently a light air sprang up, and filled the sails, andfainted, and filled them again; and little by little theRegentfetched way against the swell, and clawed off shoreinto the turbulent firth.

The purpose of these voyages was to effect a landing on openbeaches or among shelving rocks, not for persons only, but forcoals and food, and the fragile furniture of light-rooms. It was often impossible.  In 1831 I find my grandfather‘hovering for a week’ about the Pentland Skerries fora chance to land; and it was almost always difficult.  Muchknack and enterprise were early developed among the seamen of theservice; their management of boats is to this day a matter ofadmiration; and I find my grandfather in his diary depicting thenature of their excellence in one happily descriptive phrase,when he remarks that Captain Soutar had landed ‘the smallstores and nine casks of oil with all the activity of asmuggler.’  And it was one thing to land, anotherto get on board again.  I have here a passage from thediary, where it seems to have been touch-and-go.  ‘Ilanded at Tarbetness, on the eastern side of the point, in amere gale or blast of windfrom west-south-west, at 2p.m.  It blew so fresh that the captain, in a kind ofdespair, went off to the ship, leaving myself and the stewardashore.  While I was in the light-room, I felt it shakingand waving, not with the tremor of the Bell Rock, but with thewaving of a tree!  This the light-keepers seemed tobe quite familiar to, the principal keeper remarking that“it was very pleasant,” perhaps meaning interestingor curious.  The captain worked the vessel into smooth waterwith admirable dexterity, and I got on board again about 6 p.m.from the other side of the point.’  But not even thedexterity of Soutar could prevail always; and my grandfather mustat times have been left in strange berths and with but rudeprovision.  I may instance the case of my father, who wasstorm-bound three days upon an islet, sleeping in the uncementedand unchimneyed houses of the islanders, and subsisting on a dietof nettle-soup and lobsters.

The name of Soutar has twice escaped my pen, and I feel I owehim a vignette.  Soutar first attracted notice as mate of apraam at the Bell Rock, and rose gradually to be captain of theRegent.  He was active, admirably skilled in histrade, and a man incapable of fear.  Once, in London, hefell among a gang of confidence-men, naturally deceived by hisrusticity and his prodigious accent.  They plied him withdrink—a hopeless enterprise, for Soutar could not be madedrunk; they proposed cards, and Soutar would not play.  Atlast, one of them, regarding him with a formidable countenance,inquired if he were not frightened?  ‘I’mno’ very easy fleyed,’ replied the captain.  Andthe rooks withdrew after some easier pigeon.  So many perilsshared, and the partial familiarity of so many voyages, had giventhis man a stronghold in my grandfather’s estimation; andthere is no doubt but he had the art to court and please him withmuch hypocritical skill.  He usually dined on Sundays in thecabin.  He used to come down daily after dinner for a glassof port or whisky, often in his full rig of sou’-wester,oilskins, and long boots; and I have often heard it described howinsinuatingly he carried himself on these appearances, artfullycombining the extreme of deference with a blunt and seamanlikedemeanour.  My father and uncles, with the devilishpenetration of the boy, were far from being deceived; and myfather, indeed, was favoured with an object-lesson not to bemistaken.  He had crept one rainy night into an apple-barrelon deck, and from this place of ambush overheard Soutar and acomrade conversing in their oilskins.  The smooth sycophantof the cabin had wholly disappeared, and the boy listened withwonder to a vulgar and truculent ruffian.  Of Soutar, I maysay tantum vidi, having met him in the Leith docks nowmore than thirty years ago, when he abounded in the praises of mygrandfather, encouraged me (in the most admirable manner) topursue his footprints, and left impressed for ever on my memorythe image of his own Bardolphian nose.  He died not longafter.

The engineer was not only exposed to the hazards of the sea;he must often ford his way by land to remote and scarceaccessible places, beyond reach of the mail or the post-chaise,beyond even the tracery of the bridle-path, and guided by nativesacross bog and heather.  Up to 1807 my grand-father seems tohave travelled much on horseback; but he then gave up theidea—‘such,’ he writes with characteristicemphasis and capital letters, ‘is the Plague ofBaiting.’  He was a good pedestrian; at the age offifty-eight I find him covering seventeen miles over the moors ofthe Mackay country in less than seven hours, and that is not badtravelling for a scramble.  The piece of country traversedwas already a familiar track, being that between Loch Eriboll andCape Wrath; and I think I can scarce do better than reproducefrom the diary some traits of his first visit.  The tenderlay in Loch Eriboll; by five in the morning they sat down tobreakfast on board; by six they were ashore—my grandfather,Mr. Slight an assistant, and Soutar of the jolly nose, and hadbeen taken in charge by two young gentlemen of the neighbourhoodand a pair of gillies.  About noon they reached the Kyle ofDurness and passed the ferry.  By half-past three they wereat Cape Wrath—not yet known by the emphatic abbreviation of‘The Cape’—and beheld upon all sides of themunfrequented shores, an expanse of desert moor, and thehigh-piled Western Ocean.  The site of the tower waschosen.  Perhaps it is by inheritance of blood, but I knowfew things more inspiriting than this location of a lighthouse ina designated space of heather and air, through which thesea-birds are still flying.  By 9 p.m. the return journeyhad brought them again to the shores of the Kyle.  The nightwas dirty, and as the sea was high and the ferry-boat small,Soutar and Mr. Stevenson were left on the far side, while therest of the party embarked and were received into thedarkness.  They made, in fact, a safe though an alarmingpassage; but the ferryman refused to repeat the adventure; and mygrand-father and the captain long paced the beach, impatient fortheir turn to pass, and tormented with rising anxiety as to thefate of their companions.  At length they sought the shelterof a shepherd’s house.  ‘We had miserableup-putting,’ the diary continues, ‘and on both sidesof the ferry much anxiety of mind.  Our beds were cleanstraw, and but for the circumstance of the boat, I should haveslept as soundly as ever I did after a walk through moss and mireof sixteen hours.’

To go round the lights, even to-day, is to visit pastcenturies.  The tide of tourists that flows yearly inScotland, vulgarising all where it approaches, is still definedby certain barriers.  It will be long ere there is a hotelat Sumburgh or a hydropathic at Cape Wrath; it will be long ereany char-à-banc, laden with tourists, shall driveup to Barra Head or Monach, the Island of the Monks.  Theyare farther from London than St. Petersburg, and except for thetowers, sounding and shining all night with fog-bells and theradiance of the light-room, glittering by day with the trivialbrightness of white paint, these island and moorland stationsseem inaccessible to the civilisation of to-day, and even to theend of my grandfather’s career the isolation was fargreater.  There ran no post at all in the Long Island; fromthe light-house on Barra Head a boat must be sent for letters asfar as Tobermory, between sixty and seventy miles of open sea;and the posts of Shetland, which had surprised Sir Walter Scottin 1814, were still unimproved in 1833, when my grandfatherreported on the subject.  The group contained at the time apopulation of 30,000 souls, and enjoyed a trade which hadincreased in twenty years seven-fold, to between three and fourthousand tons.  Yet the mails were despatched and receivedby chance coasting vessels at the rate of a penny a letter; sixand eight weeks often elapsed between opportunities, and when amail was to be made up, sometimes at a moment’s notice, thebellman was sent hastily through the streets of Lerwick. Between Shetland and Orkney, only seventy miles apart, there was‘no trade communication whatever.’

Such was the state of affairs, only sixty years ago, with thethree largest clusters of the Scottish Archipelago; andforty-seven years earlier, when Thomas Smith began his rounds, orforty-two, when Robert Stevenson became conjoined with him inthese excursions, the barbarism was deep, the people sunk insuperstition, the circumstances of their life perhaps unique inhistory.  Lerwick and Kirkwall, like Guam or the Bay ofIslands, were but barbarous ports where whalers called to take upand to return experienced seamen.  On the outlying islandsthe clergy lived isolated, thinking other thoughts, dwelling in adifferent country from their parishioners, like missionaries inthe South Seas.  My grandfather’s unrivalled treasuryof anecdote was never written down; it embellished his talk whilehe yet was, and died with him when he died; and such as have beenpreserved relate principally to the islands of Ronaldsay andSanday, two of the Orkney group.  These bordered on one ofthe water-highways of civilisation; a great fleet passed annuallyin their view, and of the shipwrecks of the world they were thescene and cause of a proportion wholly incommensurable to theirsize.  In one year, 1798, my grandfather found the remainsof no fewer than five vessels on the isle of Sanday, which isscarcely twelve miles long.

‘Hardly a year passed,’ he writes,‘without instances of this kind; for, owing to theprojecting points of this strangely formed island, the lownessand whiteness of its eastern shores, and the wonderful manner inwhich the scanty patches of land are intersected with lakes andpools of water, it becomes, even in daylight, a deception, andhas often been fatally mistaken for an open sea.  It hadeven become proverbial with some of the inhabitants to observethat “if wrecks were to happen, they might as well be sentto the poor isle of Sanday as anywhere else.”  On thisand the neighbouring islands the inhabitants had certainly hadtheir share of wrecked goods, for the eye is presented with thesemelancholy remains in almost every form.  For example,although quarries are to be met with generally in these islands,and the stones are very suitable for building dykes(Anglicé, walls), yet instances occur of the landbeing enclosed, even to a considerable extent, withship-timbers.  The author has actually seen a park(Anglicé, meadow) paled round chiefly withcedar-wood and mahogany from the wreck of a Honduras-built ship;and in one island, after the wreck of a ship laden with wine, theinhabitants have been known to take claret to their barley-mealporridge.  On complaining to one of the pilots of thebadness of his boat’s sails, he replied to the author withsome degree of pleasantry, “Had it been His will that youcame na’ here wi’ your lights, we might‘a’ had better sails to our boats, and more o’other things.”  It may further be mentioned that whensome of Lord Dundas’s farms are to be let in these islandsa competition takes place for the lease, and it is bonafideunderstood that a much higher rent is paid than thelands would otherwise give were it not for the chance of makingconsiderably by the agency and advantages attending shipwrecks onthe shores of the respective farms.’

The people of North Ronaldsay still spoke Norse, or, rather,mixed it with their English.  The walls of their huts werebuilt to a great thickness of rounded stones from the sea-beach;the roof flagged, loaded with earth, and perforated by a singlehole for the escape of smoke.  The grass grew beautifullygreen on the flat house-top, where the family would assemble withtheir dogs and cats, as on a pastoral lawn; there were nowindows, and in my grandfather’s expression, ‘therewas really no demonstration of a house unless it were thediminutive door.’  He once landed on Ronaldsay withtwo friends.  The inhabitants crowded and pressed so muchupon the strangers that the bailiff, or resident factor of theisland, blew with his ox-horn, calling out to the natives tostand off and let the gentlemen come forward to the laird; uponwhich one of the islanders, as spokesman, called out, “Godha’e us, man! thou needsna mak’ sic a noise. It’s no’ every day we ha’e three hattedmenon our isle.”’  When the Surveyor ofTaxes came (for the first time, perhaps) to Sanday, and began inthe King’s name to complain of the unconscionable swarms ofdogs, and to menace the inhabitants with taxation, it chancedthat my grandfather and his friend, Dr. Patrick Neill, werereceived by an old lady in a Ronaldsay hut.  Her hut, whichwas similar to the model described, stood on a Ness, or point ofland jutting into the sea.  They were made welcome in thefirelit cellar, placed ‘in caseyor straw-workedchairs, after the Norwegian fashion, with arms, and a canopyoverhead,’ and given milk in a wooden dish.  Thesehospitalities attended to, the old lady turned at once to Dr.Neill, whom she took for the Surveyor of Taxes. ‘Sir,’ said she, ‘gin ye’ll tell the Kingthat I canna keep the Ness free o’ the Bangers (sheep)without twa hun’s, and twa guid hun’s too,he’ll pass me threa the tax on dugs.’

This familiar confidence, these traits of engaging simplicity,are characters of a secluded people.  Mankind—and,above all, islanders—come very swiftly to a bearing, andfind very readily, upon one convention or another, a tolerablecorporate life.  The danger is to those from without, whohave not grown up from childhood in the islands, but appearsuddenly in that narrow horizon, life-sized apparitions. For these no bond of humanity exists, no feeling of kinship isawakened by their peril; they will assist at a shipwreck, likethe fisher-folk of Lunga, as spectators, and when the fatal sceneis over, and the beach strewn with dead bodies, they will fencetheir fields with mahogany, and, after a decent grace, sup claretto their porridge.  It is not wickedness: it is scarce evil;it is only, in its highest power, the sense of isolation and thewise disinterestedness of feeble and poor races.  Think howmany viking ships had sailed by these islands in the past, howmany vikings had landed, and raised turmoil, and broken up thebarrows of the dead, and carried off the wines of the living; andblame them, if you are able, for that belief (which may be calledone of the parables of the devil’s gospel) that a manrescued from the sea will prove the bane of his deliverer. It might be thought that my grandfather, coming there unknown,and upon an employment so hateful to the inhabitants, must haverun the hazard of his life.  But this were tomisunderstand.  He came franked by the laird and theclergyman; he was the King’s officer; the work was‘opened with prayer by the Rev. Walter Trail, minister ofthe parish’; God and the King had decided it, and thepeople of these pious islands bowed their heads.  Therelanded, indeed, in North Ronaldsay, during the last decade of theeighteenth century, a traveller whose life seems really to havebeen imperilled.  A very little man of a swarthy complexion,he came ashore, exhausted and unshaved, from a long boat passage,and lay down to sleep in the home of the parishschoolmaster.  But he had been seen landing.  Theinhabitants had identified him for a Pict, as, by some singularconfusion of name, they called the dark and dwarfish aboriginalpeople of the land.  Immediately the obscure ferment of arace-hatred, grown into a superstition, began to work in theirbosoms, and they crowded about the house and the room-door withfearful whisperings.  For some time the schoolmaster heldthem at bay, and at last despatched a messenger to call mygrand-father.  He came: he found the islanders besidethemselves at this unwelcome resurrection of the dead and thedetested; he was shown, as adminicular of testimony, thetraveller’s uncouth and thick-soled boots; he argued, andfinding argument unavailing, consented to enter the room andexamine with his own eyes the sleeping Pict.  One glance wassufficient: the man was now a missionary, but he had been beforethat an Edinburgh shopkeeper with whom my grandfather haddealt.  He came forth again with this report, and the folkof the island, wholly relieved, dispersed to their ownhouses.  They were timid as sheep and ignorant as limpets;that was all.  But the Lord deliver us from the tendermercies of a frightened flock!

I will give two more instances of their superstition. When Sir Walter Scott visited the Stones of Stennis, mygrandfather put in his pocket a hundred-foot line, which heunfortunately lost.

‘Some years afterwards,’ he writes,‘one of my assistants on a visit to the Stones of Stennistook shelter from a storm in a cottage close by the lake; andseeing a box-measuring-line in the bole or sole of the cottagewindow, he asked the woman where she got this well-knownprofessional appendage.  She said: “O sir, ane of thebairns fand it lang syne at the Stanes; and when drawing it outwe took fright, and thinking it had belanged to the fairies, wethrew it into the bole, and it has layen there eversince.”’

This is for the one; the last shall be a sketch by the masterhand of Scott himself:

‘At the village of Stromness, on the Orkneymain island, called Pomona, lived, in 1814, an aged dame calledBessie Millie, who helped out her subsistence by sellingfavourable winds to mariners.  He was a venturous master ofa vessel who left the roadstead of Stromness without paying hisoffering to propitiate Bessie Millie!  Her fee was extremelymoderate, being exactly sixpence, for which she boiled her kettleand gave the bark the advantage of her prayers, for shedisclaimed all unlawful acts.  The wind thus petitioned forwas sure, she said, to arrive, though occasionally the marinershad to wait some time for it.  The woman’s dwellingand appearance were not unbecoming her pretensions.  Herhouse, which was on the brow of the steep hill on which Stromnessis founded, was only accessible by a series of dirty andprecipitous lanes, and for exposure might have been the abode ofEolus himself, in whose commodities the inhabitant dealt. She herself was, as she told us, nearly one hundred years old,withered and dried up like a mummy.  A clay-colouredkerchief, folded round her neck, corresponded in colour to hercorpse-like complexion.  Two light blue eyes that gleamedwith a lustre like that of insanity, an utterance of astonishingrapidity, a nose and chin that almost met together, and a ghastlyexpression of cunning, gave her the effect of Hecate.  Suchwas Bessie Millie, to whom the mariners paid a sort of tributewith a feeling between jest and earnest.’

II

From about the beginning of the century up to 1807 RobertStevenson was in partnership with Thomas Smith.  In thelast-named year the partnership was dissolved; Thomas Smithreturning to his business, and my grandfather becoming soleengineer to the Board of Northern Lights.

I must try, by excerpts from his diary and correspondence, toconvey to the reader some idea of the ardency and thoroughnesswith which he threw himself into the largest and least of hismultifarious engagements in this service.  But first I mustsay a word or two upon the life of lightkeepers, and thetemptations to which they are more particularly exposed. The lightkeeper occupies a position apart among men.  Insea-towers the complement has always been three since thedeplorable business in the Eddystone, when one keeper died, andthe survivor, signalling in vain for relief, was compelled tolive for days with the dead body.  These usually pass theirtime by the pleasant human expedient of quarrelling; andsometimes, I am assured, not one of the three is on speakingterms with any other.  On shore stations, which on theScottish coast are sometimes hardly less isolated, the usualnumber is two, a principal and an assistant.  The principalis dissatisfied with the assistant, or perhaps the assistantkeeps pigeons, and the principal wants the water from theroof.  Their wives and families are with them, living cheekby jowl.  The children quarrel; Jockie hits Jimsie in theeye, and the mothers make haste to mingle in thedissension.  Perhaps there is trouble about a broken dish;perhaps Mrs. Assistant is more highly born than Mrs. Principaland gives herself airs; and the men are drawn in and the servantspresently follow.  ‘Church privileges have been deniedthe keeper’s and the assistant’s servants,’ Iread in one case, and the eminently Scots periphrasis meansneither more nor less than excommunication, ‘on account ofthe discordant and quarrelsome state of the families.  Thecause, when inquired into, proves to betittle-tattleon both sides.’  Thetender comes round; the foremen and artificers go from station tostation; the gossip flies through the whole system of theservice, and the stories, disfigured and exaggerated, return totheir own birthplace with the returning tender.  The EnglishBoard was apparently shocked by the picture of thesedissensions.  ‘When the Trinity House can,’ Ifind my grandfather writing at Beachy Head, in 1834, ‘theydo not appoint two keepers, they disagree so ill.  A man whohas a family is assisted by his family; and in this way, to myexperience and present observation, the business is very muchneglected.  One keeper is, in my view, a bad system. This day’s visit to an English lighthouse convinces me ofthis, as the lightkeeper was walking on a staff with the gout,and the business performed by one of his daughters, a girl ofthirteen or fourteen years of age.’  This man receiveda hundred a year!  It shows a different reading of humannature, perhaps typical of Scotland and England, that I find inmy grandfather’s diary the following pregnant entry:‘The lightkeepers, agreeing ill, keep oneanother to their duty.’  But the Scottish systemwas not alone founded on this cynical opinion.  The dignityand the comfort of the northern lightkeeper were both attendedto.  He had a uniform to ‘raise him in his ownestimation, and in that of his neighbour, which is of consequenceto a person of trust.  The keepers,’ my grandfathergoes on, in another place, ‘are attended to in all thedetail of accommodation in the best style as shipmasters; andthis is believed to have a sensible effect upon their conduct,and to regulate their general habits as members ofsociety.’  He notes, with the same dip of ink, that‘the brasses were not clean, and the persons of the keepersnot trig’; and thus we find him writing to aculprit: ‘I have to complain that you are not cleanly inyour person, and that your manner of speech is ungentle, andrather inclines to rudeness.  You must therefore take adifferent view of your duties as a lightkeeper.’  Ahigh ideal for the service appears in these expressions, and willbe more amply illustrated further on.  But even the Scottishlightkeeper was frail.  During the unbroken solitude of thewinter months, when inspection is scarce possible, it must seem avain toil to polish the brass hand-rail of the stair, or to keepan unrewarded vigil in the light-room; and the keepers arehabitually tempted to the beginnings of sloth, and mustunremittingly resist.  He who temporises with his conscienceis already lost.  I must tell here an anecdote thatillustrates the difficulties of inspection.  In the days ofmy uncle David and my father there was a station which theyregarded with jealousy.  The two engineers compared notesand were agreed.  The tower was always clean, but seemedalways to bear traces of a hasty cleansing, as though the keepershad been suddenly forewarned.  On inquiry, it proved thatsuch was the case, and that a wandering fiddler was the unfailingharbinger of the engineer.  At last my father wasstorm-stayed one Sunday in a port at the other side of theisland.  The visit was quite overdue, and as he walkedacross upon the Monday morning he promised himself that he shouldat last take the keepers unprepared.  They were both waitingfor him in uniform at the gate; the fiddler had been there onSaturday!

My grandfather, as will appear from the following extracts,was much a martinet, and had a habit of expressing himself onpaper with an almost startling emphasis.  Personally, withhis powerful voice, sanguine countenance, and eccentric andoriginal locutions, he was well qualified to inspire a salutaryterror in the service.

‘I find that the keepers have, by some meansor another, got into the way of cleaning too much withrotten-stone and oil.  I take the principal keeper totaskon this subject, and make him bring a clean towel andclean one of the brazen frames, which leaves the towel in anodious state.  This towel I put up in a sheet of paper,seal, and take with me to confront Mr. Murdoch, who has just leftthe station.’  ‘This letter’—a sternenumeration of complaints—‘to lie a week on thelight-room book-place, and to be put in the Inspector’shands when he comes round.’  ‘It is the mostpainful thing that can occur for me to have a correspondence ofthis kind with any of the keepers; and when I come to theLighthouse, instead of having the satisfaction to meet them withapprobation, it is distressing when one is obliged to put on amost angry countenance and demeanour; but from such culpablenegligence as you have shown there is no avoiding it.  Ihold it as a fixed maxim that, when a man or a family put on aslovenly appearance in their houses, stairs, and lanterns, Ialways find their reflectors, burners, windows, and light ingeneral, ill attended to; and, therefore, I must insist oncleanliness throughout.’  ‘I find you verydeficient in the duty of the high tower.  You thus placeyour appointment as Principal Keeper in jeopardy; and I think itnecessary, as an old servant of the Board, to put you upon yourguard once for all at this time.  I call upon you torecollect what was formerly and is now said to you.  Thestate of the backs of the reflectors at the high tower wasdisgraceful, as I pointed out to you on the spot.  They wereas if spitten upon, and greasy finger-marks upon the backstraps.  I demand an explanation of this state ofthings.’  ‘The cause of the Commissionersdismissing you is expressed in the minute; and it must be amatter of regret to you that you have been so much engaged insmuggling, and also that the Reports relative to the cleanlinessof the Lighthouse, upon being referred to, rather added to theirunfavourable opinion.’  ‘I do not go into thedwelling-house, but severely chide the lightkeepers for thedisagreement that seems to subsist among them.’ ‘The families of the two lightkeepers here agree veryill.  I have effected a reconciliation for thepresent.’  ‘Things are in a very humdrumstate here.  There is no painting, and in and out of doorsno taste or tidiness displayed.  Robert’s wifegreetsand M’Gregor’s scolds; and Robert is sodown-hearted that he says he is unfit for duty.  I told himthat if he was to mind wives’ quarrels, and to take themup, the only way was for him and M’Gregor to go down to thepoint like Sir G. Grant and Lord Somerset.’  ‘Icannot say that I have experienced a more unpleasant meeting thanthat of the lighthouse folks this morning, or ever saw a strongerexample of unfeeling barbarity than the conduct which the ---sexhibited.  These two cold-hearted persons, not contentedwith having driven the daughter of the poor nervous woman fromher father’s house, bothkept pouncingather, lest she should forget her great misfortune.  Write meof their conduct.  Do not make any communication of thestate of these families at Kinnaird Head, as this would be likeTale-bearing.’

There is the great word out.  Tales and Tale-bearing,always with the emphatic capitals, run continually in hiscorrespondence.  I will give but two instances:—

‘Write to David [one of the lightkeepers]and caution him to be more prudent how he expresseshimself.  Let him attend his duty to the Lighthouse and hisfamily concerns, and give less heed to Tale-bearers.’ ‘I have not your last letter at hand to quote its date;but, if I recollect, it contains some kind of tales, whichnonsense I wish you would lay aside, and notice only the concernsof your family and the important charge committed toyou.’

Apparently, however, my grandfather was not himselfinaccessible to the Tale-bearer, as the following indicates:

‘In walking along with Mr. --- , I explainto him that I should be under the necessity of looking moreclosely into the business here from his conduct at Buddonness,which had given an instance of weakness in the Moral principlewhich had staggered my opinion of him.  His answer was,“That will be with regard to the lass?”  I toldhim I was to enter no farther with him upon thesubject.’  ‘Mr. Miller appears to be master andman.  I am sorry about this foolish fellow.  Had Iknown his train, I should not, as I did, have rather forced himinto the service.  Upon finding the windows in the statethey were, I turned upon Mr. Watt, and especially upon Mr.Stewart.  The latter did not appear for a length of time tohave visited the light-room.  On asking the cause—didMr. Watt and him (sic) disagree; he said no; but he hadgot very bad usage from the assistant, “who was a veryobstreperous man.”  I could not bring Mr. Watt to putin language his objections to Miller; all I could get was that,he being your friend, and saying he was unwell, he did not liketo complain or to push the man; that the man seemed to have noliking to anything like work; that he was unruly; that, being aneducated man, he despised them.  I was, however, determinedto have out of these unwillingwitnesses the languagealluded to.  I fixed upon Mr. Stewart as chief; hehedged.  My curiosity increased, and I urged.  Then hesaid, “What would I think, just exactly, of Mr. Watt beingcalled an Old B-?”  You may judge of mysurprise.  There was not another word uttered.  Thiswas quite enough, as coming from a person I should havecalculated upon quite different behaviour from.  It spoke avolume of the man’s mind and want ofprinciple.’  ‘Object to the keeper keeping aBull-Terrier dog of ferocious appearance.  It is dangerous,as we land at all times of the night.’  ‘Haveonly to complain of the storehouse floor being spotted withoil.  Give orders for this being instantly rectified, sothat on my return to-morrow I may see things in goodorder.’  ‘The furniture of both houses wantsmuch rubbing.  Mrs. ---’s carpets are absurd beyondanything I have seen.  I want her to turn the fenders upwith the bottom to the fireplace: the carpets, when not likely tobe in use, folded up and laid as a hearthrug partly under thefender.’

My grandfather was king in the service to hisfinger-tips.  All should go in his way, from the principallightkeeper’s coat to the assistant’s fender, fromthe gravel in the garden-walks to the bad smell in the kitchen,or the oil-spots on the store-room floor.  It might bethought there was nothing more calculated to awake men’sresentment, and yet his rule was not more thorough than it wasbeneficent.  His thought for the keepers was continual, andit did not end with their lives.  He tried to manage theirsuccessions; he thought no pains too great to arrange between awidow and a son who had succeeded his father; he was oftenharassed and perplexed by tales of hardship; and I find himwriting, almost in despair, of their improvident habits and thedestitution that awaited their families upon a death. ‘The house being completely furnished, they come intopossession without necessaries, and they go out naked.  The insurance seems to havefailed, and what next is to be tried?’  While theylived he wrote behind their backs to arrange for the education oftheir children, or to get them other situations if they seemedunsuitable for the Northern Lights.  When he was at alighthouse on a Sunday he held prayers and heard the childrenread.  When a keeper was sick, he lent him his horse andsent him mutton and brandy from the ship.  ‘Theassistant’s wife having been this morning confined, therewas sent ashore a bottle of sherry and a few rusks—apractice which I have always observed in this service,’ hewrites.  They dwelt, many of them, in uninhabited isles ordesert forelands, totally cut off from shops.  Many of themwere, besides, fallen into a rustic dishabitude of life, so thateven when they visited a city they could scarce be trusted withtheir own affairs, as (for example) he who carried home to hischildren, thinking they were oranges, a bag of lemons.  Andmy grandfather seems to have acted, at least in his early years,as a kind of gratuitous agent for the service.  Thus I findhim writing to a keeper in 1806, when his mind was alreadypreoccupied with arrangements for the Bell Rock: ‘I am muchafraid I stand very unfavourably with you as a man of promise, asI was to send several things of which I believe I have more thanonce got the memorandum.  All I can say is that in thisrespect you are not singular.  This makes me no better; butreally I have been driven about beyond all example in my pastexperience, and have been essentially obliged to neglect my ownurgent affairs.’  No servant of the Northern Lightscame to Edinburgh but he was entertained at Baxter’s Placeto breakfast.  There, at his own table, my grandfather satdown delightedly with his broad-spoken, homespun officers. His whole relation to the service was, in fact, patriarchal; andI believe I may say that throughout its ranks he wasadored.  I have spoken with many who knew him; I was hisgrandson, and their words may have very well been words offlattery; but there was one thing that could not be affected, andthat was the look and light that came into their faces at thename of Robert Stevenson.

In the early part of the century the foreman builder was ayoung man of the name of George Peebles, a native ofAnstruther.  My grandfather had placed in him a very highdegree of confidence, and he was already designated to be foremanat the Bell Rock, when, on Christmas-day 1806, on his way homefrom Orkney, he was lost in the schooner Traveller. The tale of the loss of the Travelleris almost a replicaof that of the Elizabethof Stromness; like theElizabethshe came as far as Kinnaird Head, was thensurprised by a storm, driven back to Orkney, and bilged and sankon the island of Flotta.  It seems it was about the dusk ofthe day when the ship struck, and many of the crew and passengerswere drowned.  About the same hour, my grandfather was inhis office at the writing-table; and the room beginning todarken, he laid down his pen and fell asleep.  In a dream hesaw the door open and George Peebles come in, ‘reeling toand fro, and staggering like a drunken man,’ with waterstreaming from his head and body to the floor.  There itgathered into a wave which, sweeping forward, submerged mygrandfather.  Well, no matter how deep; versions vary; andat last he awoke, and behold it was a dream!  But it may beconceived how profoundly the impression was written even on themind of a man averse from such ideas, when the news came of thewreck on Flotta and the death of George.

George’s vouchers and accounts had perished withhimself; and it appeared he was in debt to theCommissioners.  But my grandfather wrote to Orkney twice,collected evidence of his disbursements, and proved him to beseventy pounds ahead.  With this sum, he applied toGeorge’s brothers, and had it apportioned between theirmother and themselves.  He approached the Board and got anannuity of £5 bestowed on the widow Peebles; and we findhim writing her a long letter of explanation and advice, andpressing on her the duty of making a will.  That he shouldthus act executor was no singular instance.  But besidesthis we are able to assist at some of the stages of a rathertouching experiment; no less than an attempt to secure CharlesPeebles heir to George’s favour.  He is despatched,under the character of ‘a fine young man’;recommended to gentlemen for ‘advice, as he’s astranger in your place, and indeed to this kind of charge, thisbeing his first outset as Foreman’; and for a long whileafter, the letter-book, in the midst of that thrilling first yearof the Bell Rock, is encumbered with pages of instruction andencouragement.  The nature of a bill, and the precautionsthat are to be observed about discounting it, are expounded atlength and with clearness.  ‘You are not, I hope,neglecting, Charles, to work the harbour at spring-tides; and seethat you pay the greatest attention to get the well so as tosupply the keeper with water, for he is a very helpless fellow,and so unfond of hard work that I fear he could do ill to keephimself in water by going to the other side forit.’—‘With regard to spirits, Charles, I seevery little occasion for it.’  These abruptapostrophes sound to me like the voice of an awakened conscience;but they would seem to have reverberated in vain in the ears ofCharles.  There was trouble in Pladda, his scene ofoperations; his men ran away from him, there was at least a talkof calling in the Sheriff.  ‘I fear,’ writes mygrandfather, ‘you have been too indulgent, and I am sorryto add that men do not answer to be too well treated, acircumstance which I have experienced, and which you will learnas you go on in business.’  I wonder, was not CharlesPeebles himself a case in point?  Either death, at least, ordisappointment and discharge, must have ended his service in theNorthern Lights; and in later correspondence I look in vain forany mention of his name—Charles, I mean, not Peebles: foras late as 1839 my grandfather is patiently writing to another ofthe family: ‘I am sorry you took the trouble of applying tome about your son, as it lies quite out of my way to forward hisviews in the line of his profession as a Draper.’

III

A professional life of Robert Stevenson has been already givento the world by his son David, and to that I would refer thoseinterested in such matters.  But my own design, which is torepresent the man, would be very ill carried out if I sufferedmyself or my reader to forget that he was, first of all and lastof all, an engineer.  His chief claim to the style of amechanical inventor is on account of the Jib or Balance Crane ofthe Bell Rock, which are beautiful contrivances.  But thegreat merit of this engineer was not in the field ofengines.  He was above all things a projector of works inthe face of nature, and a modifier of nature itself.  A roadto be made, a tower to be built, a harbour to be constructed, ariver to be trained and guided in its channel—these werethe problems with which his mind was continually occupied; andfor these and similar ends he travelled the world for more thanhalf a century, like an artist, note-book in hand.

He once stood and looked on at the emptying of a certainoil-tube; he did so watch in hand, and accurately timed theoperation; and in so doing offered the perfect type of hisprofession.  The fact acquired might never be of use: it wasacquired: another link in the world’s huge chain ofprocesses was brought down to figures and placed at the serviceof the engineer.  ‘The very term mensuration soundsengineer-like,’ I find him writing; and in truthwhat the engineer most properly deals with is that which can bemeasured, weighed, and numbered.  The time of any operationin hours and minutes, its cost in pounds, shillings, and pence,the strain upon a given point in foot-pounds—these are hisconquests, with which he must continually furnish his mind, andwhich, after he has acquired them, he must continually apply andexercise.  They must be not only entries in note-books, tobe hurriedly consulted; in the actor’s phrase, he must bestalein them; in a word of my grandfather’s, theymust be ‘fixed in the mind like the ten fingers and tentoes.’

These are the certainties of the engineer; so far he finds asolid footing and clear views.  But the province of formulasand constants is restricted.  Even the mechanical engineercomes at last to an end of his figures, and must stand up, apractical man, face to face with the discrepancies of nature andthe hiatuses of theory.  After the machine is finished, andthe steam turned on, the next is to drive it; and experience andan exquisite sympathy must teach him where a weight should beapplied or a nut loosened.  With the civil engineer, moreproperly so called (if anything can be proper with this awkwardcoinage), the obligation starts with the beginning.  He isalways the practical man.  The rains, the winds and thewaves, the complexity and the fitfulness of nature, are alwaysbefore him.  He has to deal with the unpredictable, withthose forces (in Smeaton’s phrase) that ‘are subjectto no calculation’; and still he must predict, stillcalculate them, at his peril.  His work is not yet in being,and he must foresee its influence: how it shall deflect the tide,exaggerate the waves, dam back the rain-water, or attract thethunderbolt.  He visits a piece of sea-board; and from theinclination and soil of the beach, from the weeds and shell-fish,from the configuration of the coast and the depth of soundingsoutside, he must deduce what magnitude of waves is to be lookedfor.  He visits a river, its summer water babbling onshallows; and he must not only read, in a thousand indications,the measure of winter freshets, but be able to predict theviolence of occasional great floods.  Nay, and more; he mustnot only consider that which is, but that which may be. Thus I find my grandfather writing, in a report on the North EskBridge: ‘A less waterway might have sufficed, but thevalleys may come to be meliorated bydrainage.’  One field drained after anotherthrough all that confluence of vales, and we come to a time whenthey shall precipitate by so much a more copious and transientflood, as the gush of the flowing drain-pipe is superior to theleakage of a peat.

It is plain there is here but a restricted use forformulas.  In this sort of practice, the engineer has needof some transcendental sense.  Smeaton, the pioneer, badehim obey his ‘feelings’; my father, that ‘powerof estimating obscure forces which supplies a coefficient of itsown to every rule.’  The rules must be everywhereindeed; but they must everywhere be modified by thistranscendental coefficient, everywhere bent to the impression ofthe trained eye and the feelingsof the engineer.  Asentiment of physical laws and of the scale of nature, whichshall have been strong in the beginning and progressivelyfortified by observation, must be his guide in the lastrecourse.  I had the most opportunity to observe myfather.  He would pass hours on the beach, brooding over thewaves, counting them, noting their least deflection, noting whenthey broke.  On Tweedside, or by Lyne or Manor, we havespent together whole afternoons; to me, at the time, extremelywearisome; to him, as I am now sorry to think, bitterlymortifying.  The river was to me a pretty and variousspectacle; I could not see—I could not be made tosee—it otherwise.  To my father it was a chequer-boardof lively forces, which he traced from pool to shallow withminute appreciation and enduring interest.  ‘That bankwas being under-cut,’ he might say.  ‘Why? Suppose you were to put a groin out here, would not the filumfluminisbe cast abruptly off across the channel? and wherewould it impinge upon the other shore? and what would be theresult?  Or suppose you were to blast that boulder, whatwould happen?  Follow it—use the eyes God has givenyou—can you not see that a great deal of land would bereclaimed upon this side?’  It was to me like schoolin holidays; but to him, until I had worn him out with myinvincible triviality, a delight.  Thus he pored over theengineer’s voluminous handy-book of nature; thus must, too,have pored my grand-father and uncles.

But it is of the essence of this knowledge, or this knack ofmind, to be largely incommunicable.  ‘It cannot beimparted to another,’ says my father.  The verbalcasting-net is thrown in vain over these evanescent, inferentialrelations. Hence the insignificance of much engineeringliterature.  So far as the science can be reduced toformulas or diagrams, the book is to the point; so far as the artdepends on intimate study of the ways of nature, theauthor’s words will too often be found vapid.  Thisfact—that engineering looks one way, and literatureanother—was what my grand-father overlooked.  All hislife long, his pen was in his hand, piling up a treasury ofknowledge, preparing himself against all possiblecontingencies.  Scarce anything fell under his notice but heperceived in it some relation to his work, and chronicled it inthe pages of his journal in his always lucid, but sometimesinexact and wordy, style.  The Travelling Diary (so hecalled it) was kept in fascicles of ruled paper, which were atlast bound up, rudely indexed, and put by for futurereference.  Such volumes as have reached me contain asurprising medley: the whole details of his employment in theNorthern Lights and his general practice; the whole biography ofan enthusiastic engineer.  Much of it is useful and curious;much merely otiose; and much can only be described as an attemptto impart that which cannot be imparted in words.  Of suchare his repeated and heroic descriptions of reefs; monuments ofmisdirected literary energy, which leave upon the mind of thereader no effect but that of a multiplicity of words and thesuggested vignette of a lusty old gentleman scrambling amongtangle.  It is to be remembered that he came to engineeringwhile yet it was in the egg and without a library, and that hesaw the bounds of that profession widen daily.  He saw ironships, steamers, and the locomotive engine, introduced.  Helived to travel from Glasgow to Edinburgh in the inside of aforenoon, and to remember that he himself had ‘often beentwelve hours upon the journey, and his grand-father (Lillie) twodays’!  The profession was still but in its secondgeneration, and had already broken down the barriers of time andspace.  Who should set a limit to its futureencroachments?  And hence, with a kind of sanguine pedantry,he pursued his design of ‘keeping up with the day’and posting himself and his family on every mortal subject. Of this unpractical idealism we shall meet with many instances;there was not a trade, and scarce an accomplishment, but hethought it should form part of the outfit of an engineer; and notcontent with keeping an encyclopaedic diary himself, he wouldfain have set all his sons to work continuing and extendingit.  They were more happily inspired.  Myfather’s engineering pocket-book was not a bulky volume;with its store of pregnant notes and vital formulas, it servedhim through life, and was not yet filled when he came todie.  As for Robert Stevenson and the Travelling Diary, Ishould be ungrateful to complain, for it has supplied me withmany lively traits for this and subsequent chapters; but I muststill remember much of the period of my study there as a sojournin the Valley of the Shadow.

The duty of the engineer is twofold—to design the work,and to see the work done.  We have seen already something ofthe vociferous thoroughness of the man, upon the cleaning oflamps and the polishing of reflectors.  In building, inroad-making, in the construction of bridges, in every detail andbyway of his employments, he pursued the same ideal. Perfection (with a capital P and violently under-scored) was hisdesign.  A crack for a penknife, the waste of‘six-and-thirty shillings,’ ‘the loss of a dayor a tide,’ in each of these he saw and was revolted by thefinger of the sloven; and to spirits intense as his, and immersedin vital undertakings, the slovenly is the dishonest, and wastedtime is instantly translated into lives endangered.  On thisconsistent idealism there is but one thing that now and thentrenches with a touch of incongruity, and that is his love of thepicturesque.  As when he laid out a road on Hogarth’sline of beauty; bade a foreman be careful, in quarrying, not‘to disfigure the island’; or regretted in a reportthat ‘the great stone, called the Devil in the Hole,was blasted or broken down to make road-metal, and for otherpurposes of the work.’

CHAPTER III: THE BUILDING OF THE BELL ROCK

Off the mouths of the Tay and the Forth, thirteen miles fromFifeness, eleven from Arbroath, and fourteen from the Red Head ofAngus, lies the Inchcape or Bell Rock.  It extends to alength of about fourteen hundred feet, but the part of itdiscovered at low water to not more than four hundred andtwenty-seven.  At a little more than half-flood in fineweather the seamless ocean joins over the reef, and at high-watersprings it is buried sixteen feet.  As the tide goes down,the higher reaches of the rock are seen to be clothed byConferva rupestrisas by a sward of grass; upon the moreexposed edges, where the currents are most swift and the breachof the sea heaviest, Baderlock or Henware flourishes; and thegreat Tangle grows at the depth of several fathoms withluxuriance.  Before man arrived, and introduced into thesilence of the sea the smoke and clangour of a blacksmith’sshop, it was a favourite resting-place of seals.  The craband lobster haunt in the crevices; and limpets, mussels, and thewhite buckie abound.

According to a tradition, a bell had been once hung upon thisrock by an abbot of Arbroath, [91a] ‘and beingtaken down by a sea-pirate, a year thereafter he perished uponthe same rock, with ship and goods, in the righteous judgment ofGod.’  From the days of the abbot and the sea-pirateno man had set foot upon the Inchcape, save fishers from theneighbouring coast, or perhaps—for a moment, before thesurges swallowed them—the unfortunate victims ofshipwreck.  The fishers approached the rock with an extremetimidity; but their harvest appears to have been great, and theadventure no more perilous than lucrative.  In 1800, on theoccasion of my grandfather’s first landing, and during thetwo or three hours which the ebb-tide and the smooth waterallowed them to pass upon its shelves, his crew collected upwardsof two hundredweight of old metal: pieces of a kedge anchor and acabin stove, crowbars, a hinge and lock of a door, a ship’smarking-iron, a piece of a ship’s caboose, asoldier’s bayonet, a cannon ball, several pieces of money,a shoe-buckle, and the like.  Such were the spoils of theBell Rock.

From 1794 onward, the mind of my grandfather had beenexercised with the idea of a light upon this formidabledanger.  To build a tower on a sea rock, eleven miles fromshore, and barely uncovered at low water of neaps, appeared afascinating enterprise.  It was something yet unattempted,unessayed; and even now, after it has been lighted for more thaneighty years, it is still an exploit that has never beenrepeated. [92a]  My grandfather was, besides, buta young man, of an experience comparatively restricted, and areputation confined to Scotland; and when he prepared his firstmodels, and exhibited them in Merchants’ Hall, he canhardly be acquitted of audacity.  John Clerk of Eldin stoodhis friend from the beginning, kept the key of the model room, towhich he carried ‘eminent strangers,’ and found wordsof counsel and encouragement beyond price.  ‘Mr. Clerkhad been personally known to Smeaton, and used occasionally tospeak of him to me,’ says my grandfather; and again:‘I felt regret that I had not the opportunity of a greaterrange of practice to fit me for such an undertaking; but I wasfortified by an expression of my friend Mr. Clerk in one of ourconversations. “This work,” said he, “isunique, and can be little forwarded by experience of ordinarymasonic operations.  In this case Smeaton’s‘Narrative’ must be the text-book, and energy andperseverance the pratique.”’

A Bill for the work was introduced into Parliament and lost inthe Lords in 1802–3.  John Rennie was afterwards, atmy grandfather’s suggestion, called in council, with thestyle of chief engineer.  The precise meaning attached tothese words by any of the parties appears irrecoverable. Chief engineer should have full authority, full responsibility,and a proper share of the emoluments; and there were none ofthese for Rennie.  I find in an appendix a paper whichresumes the controversy on this subject; and it will be enough tosay here that Rennie did not design the Bell Rock, that he didnot execute it, and that he was not paid for it. [94a]  From so much of thecorrespondence as has come down to me, the acquaintance of thisman, eleven years his senior, and already famous, appears to havebeen both useful and agreeable to Robert Stevenson.  It isamusing to find my grandfather seeking high and low for a braceof pistols which his colleague had lost by the way betweenAberdeen and Edinburgh; and writing to Messrs. Dollond, ‘Ihave not thought it necessary to trouble Mr. Rennie with thisorder, but I beg you will see to get two minutes of him as hepasses your door’—a proposal calculated ratherfrom the latitude of Edinburgh than from London, even in1807.  It is pretty, too, to observe with what affectionateregard Smeaton was held in mind by his immediatesuccessors.  ‘Poor old fellow,’ writes Rennie toStevenson, ‘I hope he will now and then take a peep at us,and inspire you with fortitude and courage to brave alldifficulties and dangers to accomplish a work which will, ifsuccessful, immortalise you in the annals of fame.’ The style might be bettered, but the sentiment is charming.

Smeaton was, indeed, the patron saint of the Bell Rock. Undeterred by the sinister fate of Winstanley, he had tackled andsolved the problem of the Eddystone; but his solution had notbeen in all respects perfect.  It remained for mygrand-father to outdo him in daring, by applying to a tidal rockthose principles which had been already justified by the successof the Eddystone, and to perfect the model by more than oneexemplary departure.  Smeaton had adopted in his floors theprinciple of the arch; each therefore exercised an outward thrustupon the walls, which must be met and combated by embeddedchains.  My grandfather’s flooring-stones, on theother hand, were flat, made part of the outer wall, and werekeyed and dovetailed into a central stone, so as to bind the worktogether and be positive elements of strength.  In 1703Winstanley still thought it possible to erect his strange pagoda,with its open gallery, its florid scrolls and candlesticks: likea rich man’s folly for an ornamental water in a park. Smeaton followed; then Stevenson in his turn corrected such flawsas were left in Smeaton’s design; and with hisimprovements, it is not too much to say the model was madeperfect.  Smeaton and Stevenson had between them evolved andfinished the sea-tower.  No subsequent builder has departedin anything essential from the principles of their design. It remains, and it seems to us as though it must remain for ever,an ideal attained.  Every stone in the building, it mayinterest the reader to know, my grandfather had himself cut outin the model; and the manner in which the courses were fitted,joggled, trenailed, wedged, and the bond broken, is intricate asa puzzle and beautiful by ingenuity.

In 1806 a second Bill passed both Houses, and the preliminaryworks were at once begun.  The same year the Navy had takena great harvest of prizes in the North Sea, one of which, aPrussian fishing dogger, flat-bottomed and rounded at the stemand stern, was purchased to be a floating lightship, and re-namedthe Pharos.  By July 1807 she was overhauled, riggedfor her new purpose, and turned into the lee of the Isle ofMay.  ‘It was proposed that the whole party shouldmeet in her and pass the night; but she rolled from side to sidein so extraordinary a manner, that even the most seahardyfled.  It was humorously observed of this vessel that shewas in danger of making a round turn and appearing with her keeluppermost; and that she would even turn a half-penny if laid upondeck.’  By two o’clock on the morning of the15th July this purgatorial vessel was moored by the BellRock.

A sloop of forty tons had been in the meantime built at Leith,and named the Smeaton; by the 7th of August my grandfatherset sail in her—

‘carrying with him Mr. Peter Logan, foremanbuilder, and five artificers selected from their having beensomewhat accustomed to the sea, the writer being aware of thedistressing trial which the floating light would necessarilyinflict upon landsmen from her rolling motion.  Here heremained till the 10th, and, as the weather was favourable, alanding was effected daily, when the workmen were employed incutting the large seaweed from the sites of the lighthouse andbeacon, which were respectively traced with pickaxes upon therock.  In the meantime the crew of the Smeatonwasemployed in laying down the several sets of moorings within abouthalf a mile of the rock for the convenience of vessels.  Theartificers, having, fortunately, experienced moderate weather,returned to the workyard of Arbroath with a good report of theirtreatment afloat; when their comrades ashore began to feel someanxiety to see a place of which they had heard so much, and tochange the constant operations with the iron and mallet in theprocess of hewing for an occasional tide’s work on therock, which they figured to themselves as a state of comparativeease and comfort.’

I am now for many pages to let my grandfather speak forhimself, and tell in his own words the story of his capitalachievement.  The tall quarto of 533 pages from which thefollowing narrative has been dug out is practically unknown tothe general reader, yet good judges have perceived its merit, andit has been named (with flattering wit) ‘The Romance ofStone and Lime’ and ‘The Robinson Crusoe of CivilEngineering.’  The tower was but four years in thebuilding; it took Robert Stevenson, in the midst of his manyavocations, no less than fourteen to prepare theAccount.  The title-page is a solid piece ofliterature of upwards of a hundred words; the table of contentsruns to thirteen pages; and the dedication (to that reveredmonarch, George iv) must have cost himno little study and correspondence.  Walter Scott was calledin council, and offered one miscorrection which still blots thepage.  In spite of all this pondering and filing, thereremain pages not easy to construe, and inconsistencies not easyto explain away.  I have sought to make these disappear, andto lighten a little the baggage with which my grandfathermarches; here and there I have rejointed and rearranged asentence, always with his own words, and all with a reverent andfaithful hand; and I offer here to the reader the true Monumentof Robert Stevenson with a little of the moss removed from theinscription, and the Portrait of the artist with some superfluouscanvas cut away.

I—OPERATIONS OF 1807

[Sunday, 16th Aug.]

Everything being arranged for sailing to the rock on Saturdaythe 15th, the vessel might have proceeded on the Sunday; butunderstanding that this would not be so agreeable to theartificers it was deferred until Monday.  Here we cannothelp observing that the men allotted for the operations at therock seemed to enter upon the undertaking with a degree ofconsideration which fully marked their opinion as to thehazardous nature of the undertaking on which they were about toenter.  They went in a body to church on Sunday, and whetherit was in the ordinary course, or designed for the occasion, thewriter is not certain, but the service was, in many respects,suitable to their circumstances.

[Monday, 17th Aug.]

The tide happening to fall late in the evening of Monday the17th, the party, counting twenty-four in number, embarked onboard of the Smeatonabout ten o’clock p.m., andsailed from Arbroath with a gentle breeze at west.  Ourship’s colours having been flying all day in compliment tothe commencement of the work, the other vessels in the harbouralso saluted, which made a very gay appearance.  A number ofthe friends and acquaintances of those on board having been thuscollected, the piers, though at a late hour, were perfectlycrowded, and just as the Smeatoncleared the harbour, allon board united in giving three hearty cheers, which werereturned by those on shore in such good earnest, that, in thestill of the evening, the sound must have been heard in all partsof the town, re-echoing from the walls and lofty turrets of thevenerable Abbey of Aberbrothwick.  The writer felt muchsatisfaction at the manner of this parting scene, though he mustown that the present rejoicing was, on his part, mingled withoccasional reflections upon the responsibility of his situation,which extended to the safety of all who should be engaged in thisperilous work.  With such sensations he retired to hiscabin; but as the artificers were rather inclined to move aboutthe deck than to remain in their confined berths below, hisrepose was transient, and the vessel being small every motion wasnecessarily heard.  Some who were musically inclinedoccasionally sung; but he listened with peculiar pleasure to thesailor at the helm, who hummed over Dibdin’s characteristicair:—

‘They say there’s a Providence sits upaloft,
To keep watch for the life of poor Jack.’

[Tuesday, 18th Aug.]

The weather had been very gentle all night, and, about four inthe morning of the 18th, the Smeatonanchored. Agreeably to an arranged plan of operations, all hands werecalled at five o’clock a.m., just as the highest part ofthe Bell Rock began to show its sable head among the lightbreakers, which occasionally whitened with the foaming sea. The two boats belonging to the floating light attended theSmeaton, to carry the artificers to the rock, as her boatcould only accommodate about six or eight sitters.  Everyone was more eager than his neighbour to leap into the boats andit required a good deal of management on the part of thecoxswains to get men unaccustomed to a boat to take their placesfor rowing and at the same time trimming her properly.  Thelanding-master and foreman went into one boat, while the writertook charge of another, and steered it to and from therock.  This became the more necessary in the early stages ofthe work, as places could not be spared for more than two, or atmost three seamen to each boat, who were always stationed, one atthe bow, to use the boat-hook in fending or pushing off, and theother at the aftermost oar, to give the proper time in rowing,while the middle oars were double-banked, and rowed by theartificers.

As the weather was extremely fine, with light airs of windfrom the east, we landed without difficulty upon the central partof the rock at half-past five, but the water had not yetsufficiently left it for commencing the work.  Thisinterval, however, did not pass unoccupied.  The first andlast of all the principal operations at the Bell Rock wereaccompanied by three hearty cheers from all hands, and, onoccasions like the present, the steward of the ship attended,when each man was regaled with a glass of rum.  As the waterleft the rock about six, some began to bore the holes for thegreat bats or holdfasts, for fixing the beams of theBeacon-house, while the smith was fully attended in laying outthe site of his forge, upon a somewhat sheltered spot of therock, which also recommended itself from the vicinity of a poolof water for tempering his irons.  These preliminary stepsoccupied about an hour, and as nothing further could be doneduring this tide towards fixing the forge, the workmen gratifiedtheir curiosity by roaming about the rock, which theyinvestigated with great eagerness till the tide overflowedit.  Those who had been sick picked dulse (Fucuspalmatus), which they ate with much seeming appetite; otherswere more intent upon collecting limpets for bait, to enjoy theamusement of fishing when they returned on board of thevessel.  Indeed, none came away empty-handed, as everythingfound upon the Bell Rock was considered valuable, being connectedwith some interesting association.  Several coins, andnumerous bits of shipwrecked iron, were picked up, of almostevery description; and, in particular, a marking-iron letteredJames—a circumstance of which itwas thought proper to give notice to the public, as it might leadto the knowledge of some unfortunate shipwreck, perhaps unheardof till this simple occurrence led to the discovery.  Whenthe rock began to be overflowed, the landing-master arranged thecrews of the respective boats, appointing twelve persons toeach.  According to a rule which the writer had laid down tohimself, he was always the last person who left the rock.

In a short time the Bell Rock was laid completely under water,and the weather being extremely fine, the sea was so smooth thatits place could not be pointed out from the appearance of thesurface—a circumstance which sufficiently demonstrates thedangerous nature of this rock, even during the day, and in thesmoothest and calmest state of the sea.  During the intervalbetween the morning and the evening tides, the artificers werevariously employed in fishing and reading; others were busy indrying and adjusting their wet clothes, and one or two amusedtheir companions with the violin and German flute.

About seven in the evening the signal bell for landing on therock was again rung, when every man was at his quarters.  Inthis service it was thought more appropriate to use the bell thanto pipeto quarters, as the use of this instrument is lessknown to the mechanic than the sound of the bell.  Thelanding, as in the morning, was at the eastern harbour. During this tide the seaweed was pretty well cleared from thesite of the operations, and also from the tracks leading to thedifferent landing-places; for walking upon the rugged surface ofthe Bell Rock, when covered with seaweed, was found to beextremely difficult and even dangerous.  Every hand thatcould possibly be occupied now employed in assisting the smith tofit up the apparatus for his forge.  At 9 p.m. the boatsreturned to the tender, after other two hours’ work, in thesame order as formerly—perhaps as much gratified with thesuccess that attended the work of this day as with any other inthe whole course of the operations.  Although it could nothe said that the fatigues of this day had been great, yet all onboard retired early to rest.  The sea being calm, and nomovement on deck, it was pretty generally remarked in the morningthat the bell awakened the greater number on board from theirfirst sleep; and though this observation was not altogetherapplicable to the writer himself, yet he was not a little pleasedto find that thirty people could all at once become so reconciledto a night’s quarters within a few hundred paces of theBell Rock.

[Wednesday, 19th Aug.]

Being extremely anxious at this time to get forward withfixing the smith’s forge, on which the progress of the workat present depended, the writer requested that he might be calledat daybreak to learn the landing-master’s opinion of theweather from the appearance of the rising sun, a criterion bywhich experienced seamen can generally judge pretty accurately ofthe state of the weather for the following day.  About fiveo’clock, on coming upon deck, the sun’s upper limb ordisc had just begun to appear as if rising from the ocean, and inless than a minute he was seen in the fullest splendour; butafter a short interval he was enveloped in a soft cloudy sky,which was considered emblematical of fine weather.  His rayshad not yet sufficiently dispelled the clouds which hid the landfrom view, and the Bell Rock being still overflowed, the wholewas one expanse of water.  This scene in itself was highlygratifying; and, when the morning bell was tolled, we weregratified with the happy forebodings of good weather and theexpectation of having both a morning and an evening tide’swork on the rock.

The boat which the writer steered happened to be the lastwhich approached the rock at this tide; and, in standing up inthe stern, while at some distance, to see how the leading boatentered the creek, he was astonished to observe something in theform of a human figure, in a reclining posture, upon one of theledges of the rock.  He immediately steered the boat througha narrow entrance to the eastern harbour, with a thousandunpleasant sensations in his mind.  He thought a vessel orboat must have been wrecked upon the rock during the night; andit seemed probable that the rock might be strewed with deadbodies, a spectacle which could not fail to deter the artificersfrom returning so freely to their work.  In the midst ofthese reveries the boat took the ground at an improperlanding-place; but, without waiting to push her off, he leaptupon the rock, and making his way hastily to the spot which hadprivately given him alarm, he had the satisfaction to ascertainthat he had only been deceived by the peculiar situation andaspect of the smith’s anvil and block, which verycompletely represented the appearance of a lifeless body upon therock.  The writer carefully suppressed his feelings, thesimple mention of which might have had a bad effect upon theartificers, and his haste passed for an anxiety to examine theapparatus of the smith’s forge, left in an unfinished stateat evening tide.

In the course of this morning’s work two or threeapparently distant peals of thunder were heard, and theatmosphere suddenly became thick and foggy.  But as theSmeaton, our present tender, was moored at no greatdistance from the rock, the crew on board continued blowing witha horn, and occasionally fired a musket, so that the boats got tothe ship without difficulty.

[Thursday, 20th Aug.]

The wind this morning inclined from the north-east, and thesky had a heavy and cloudy appearance, but the sea was smooth,though there was an undulating motion on, the surface, whichindicated easterly winds, and occasioned a slight surf upon therock.  But the boats found no difficulty in landing at thewestern creek at half-past seven, and, after a good tide’swork, left it again about a quarter from eleven.  In theevening the artificers landed at half-past seven, and continuedtill half-past eight, having completed the fixing of thesmith’s forge, his vice, and a wooden board or bench, whichwere also batted to a ledge of the rock, to the great joy of all,under a salute of three hearty cheers.  From an oversight onthe part of the smith, who had neglected to bring his tinder-boxand matches from the vessel, the work was prevented from beingcontinued for at least an hour longer.

The smith’s shop was, of course, in open space:the large bellows were carried to and from the rock every tide,for the serviceable condition of which, together with thetinder-box, fuel, and embers of the former fire, the smith washeld responsible.  Those who have been placed in situationsto feel the inconveniency and want of this useful artisan, willbe able to appreciate his value in a case like the present. It often happened, to our annoyance and disappointment, in theearly state of the work, when the smith was in the middle of afavourite heatin making some useful article, or insharpening the tools, after the flood-tide had obliged thepickmen to strike work, a sea would come rolling over the rocks,dash out the fire, and endanger his indispensable implement, thebellows.  If the sea was smooth, while the smith often stoodat work knee-deep in water, the tide rose by imperceptibledegrees, first cooling the exterior of the fireplace, or hearth,and then quietly blackening and extinguishing the fire frombelow.  The writer has frequently been amused at theperplexing anxiety of the blacksmith when coaxing his fire andendeavouring to avert the effects of the rising tide.

[Friday, 21st Aug.]

Everything connected with the forge being now completed, theartificers found no want of sharp tools, and the work wentforward with great alacrity and spirit.  It was also allegedthat the rock had a more habitable appearance from the volumes ofsmoke which ascended from the smith’s shop and the busynoise of his anvil, the operations of the masons, the movementsof the boats, and shipping at a distance—all contributed togive life and activity to the scene.  This noise and traffichad, however, the effect of almost completely banishing the herdof seals which had hitherto frequented the rock as aresting-place during the period of low water.  The rockseemed to be peculiarly adapted to their habits, for, exceptingtwo or three days at neap-tides, a part of it always dries at lowwater—at least, during the summer season—and as therewas good fishing-ground in the neighbourhood, without a humanbeing to disturb or molest them, it had become a very favouriteresidence of these amphibious animals, the writer havingoccasionally counted from fifty to sixty playing about the rockat a time.  But when they came to be disturbed every tide,and their seclusion was broken in upon by the kindling of greatfires, together with the beating of hammers and picks during lowwater, after hovering about for a time, they changed their place,and seldom more than one or two were to be seen about the rockupon the more detached outlayers which dry partially, whence theyseemed to look with that sort of curiosity which is observable inthese animals when following a boat.

[Saturday, 22nd Aug.]

Hitherto the artificers had remained on board theSmeaton, which was made fast to one of the mooring buoysat a distance only of about a quarter of a mile from the rock,and, of course, a very great conveniency to the work.  Beingso near, the seamen could never be mistaken as to the progress ofthe tide, or state of the sea upon the rock, nor could the boatsbe much at a loss to pull on board of the vessel during fog, oreven in very rough weather; as she could be cast loose from hermoorings at pleasure, and brought to the lee side of therock.  But the Smeatonbeing only about fortyregister tons, her accommodations were extremely limited. It may, therefore, be easily imagined that an addition oftwenty-four persons to her own crew must have rendered thesituation of those on board rather uncomfortable.  The onlyplace for the men’s hammocks on board being in the hold,they were unavoidably much crowded: and if the weather hadrequired the hatches to be fastened down, so great a number ofmen could not possibly have been accommodated.  To add tothis evil, the co-booseor cooking-place being upon deck,it would not have been possible to have cooked for so large acompany in the event of bad weather.

The stock of water was now getting short, and some necessariesbeing also wanted for the floating light, the Smeatonwasdespatched for Arbroath; and the writer, with the artificers atthe same time shifted their quarters from her to the floatinglight.

Although the rock barely made its appearance at this period ofthe tides till eight o’clock, yet, having now a full mileto row from the floating light to the rock, instead of about aquarter of a mile from the moorings of the Smeaton, it wasnecessary to be earlier astir, and to form differentarrangements; breakfast was accordingly served up at seveno’clock this morning.  From the excessive motion ofthe floating light, the writer had looked forward rather withanxiety to the removal of the workmen to this ship.  Someamong them, who had been congratulating themselves upon havingbecome sea-hardy while on board the Smeaton, had acomplete relapse upon returning to the floating light.  Thiswas the case with the writer.  From the spacious andconvenient berthage of the floating light, the exchange to theartificers was, in this respect, much for the better.  Theboats were also commodious, measuring sixteen feet in length onthe keel, so that, in fine weather, their complement of sitterswas sixteen persons for each, with which, however, they wererather crowded, but she could not stow two boats of largerdimensions.  When there was what is called a breeze of wind,and a swell in the sea, the proper number for each boat couldnot, with propriety, be rated at more than twelve persons.

When the tide-bell rung the boats were hoisted out, and twoactive seamen were employed to keep them from receiving damagealongside.  The floating light being very buoyant, was soquick in her motions that when those who were about to step fromher gunwale into a boat, placed themselves upon a cleat or stepon the ship’s side, with the man or rail ropes in theirhands, they had often to wait for some time till a favourableopportunity occurred for stepping into the boat.  While inthis situation, with the vessel rolling from side to side,watching the proper time for letting go the man-ropes, itrequired the greatest dexterity and presence of mind to leap intothe boats.  One who was rather awkward would often wait aconsiderable period in this position: at one time his side of theship would be so depressed that he would touch the boat to whichhe belonged, while the next sea would elevate him so much that hewould see his comrades in the boat on the opposite side of theship, his friends in the one boat calling to him to‘Jump,’ while those in the boat on the other side, ashe came again and again into their view, would jocosely say,‘Are you there yet?  You seem to enjoy aswing.’  In this situation it was common to see aperson upon each side of the ship for a length of time, waitingto quit his hold.

On leaving the rock to-day a trial of seamanship was proposedamongst the rowers, for by this time the artificers had becometolerably expert in this exercise.  By inadvertency some ofthe oars provided had been made of fir instead of ash, andalthough a considerable stock had been laid in, the workmen,being at first awkward in the art, were constantly breaking theiroars; indeed it was no uncommon thing to see the broken blades ofa pair of oars floating astern, in the course of a passage fromthe rock to the vessel.  The men, upon the whole, had butlittle work to perform in the course of a day; for though theyexerted themselves extremely hard while on the rock, yet, in theearly state of the operations, this could not be continued formore than three or four hours at a time, and as their rationswere large—consisting of one pound and a half of beef, onepound of ship biscuit, eight ounces oatmeal, two ounces barley,two ounces butter, three quarts of small beer, with vegetablesand salt—they got into excellent spirits when free ofsea-sickness.  The rowing of the boats against each otherbecame a favourite amusement, which was rather a fortunatecircumstance, as it must have been attended with muchinconvenience had it been found necessary to employ a sufficientnumber of sailors for this purpose.  The writer, therefore,encouraged the spirit of emulation, and the speed of theirrespective boats became a favourite topic.  Premiums forboat-races were instituted, which were contended for with greateagerness, and the respective crews kept their stations in theboats with as much precision as they kept their beds on board ofthe ship.  With these and other pastimes, when the weatherwas favourable, the time passed away among the inmates of theforecastle and waist of the ship.  The writer looks backwith interest upon the hours of solitude which he spent in thislonely ship with his small library.

This being the first Saturday that the artificers were afloat,all hands were served with a glass of rum and water at night, todrink the sailors’ favourite toast of ‘Wives andSweethearts.’  It was customary, upon these occasions,for the seamen and artificers to collect in the galley, when themusical instruments were put in requisition: for, according toinvariable practice, every man must play a tune, sing a song, ortell a story.

[Sunday, 23rd Aug.]

Having, on the previous evening, arranged matters with thelanding-master as to the business of the day, the signal was rungfor all hands at half-past seven this morning.  In the earlystate of the spring-tides the artificers went to the rock beforebreakfast, but as the tides fell later in the day, it becamenecessary to take this meal before leaving the ship.  Ateight o’clock all hands were assembled on the quarter-deckfor prayers, a solemnity which was gone through in as orderly amanner as circumstances would admit.  When the weatherpermitted, the flags of the ship were hung up as an awning orscreen, forming the quarter-deck into a distinct compartment; thependant was also hoisted at the mainmast, and a large ensign flagwas displayed over the stern; and lastly, the ship’scompanion, or top of the staircase, was covered with the flagproperof the Lighthouse Service, on which the Bible waslaid.  A particular toll of the bell called all hands to thequarter-deck, when the writer read a chapter of the Bible, and,the whole ship’s company being uncovered, he also read theimpressive prayer composed by the Reverend Dr. Brunton, one ofthe ministers of Edinburgh.

Upon concluding this service, which was attended with becomingreverence and attention, all on board retired to their respectiveberths to breakfast, and, at half-past nine, the bell again rungfor the artificers to take their stations in their respectiveboats.  Some demur having been evinced on board about thepropriety of working on Sunday, which had hitherto been touchedupon as delicately as possible, all hands being called aft, thewriter, from the quarter-deck, stated generally the nature of theservice, expressing his hopes that every man would feel himselfcalled upon to consider the erection of a lighthouse on the BellRock, in every point of view, as a work of necessity andmercy.  He knew that scruples had existed with some, andthese had, indeed, been fairly and candidly urged before leavingthe shore; but it was expected that, after having seen thecritical nature of the rock, and the necessity of the measure,every man would now be satisfied of the propriety of embracingall opportunities of landing on the rock when the state of theweather would permit.  The writer further took them towitness that it did not proceed from want of respect for theappointments and established forms of religion that he hadhimself adopted the resolution of attending the Bell Rock workson the Sunday; but, as he hoped, from a conviction that it washis bounden duty, on the strictest principles of morality. At the same time it was intimated that, if any were of adifferent opinion, they should be perfectly at liberty to holdtheir sentiments without the imputation of contumacy ordisobedience; the only difference would be in regard to thepay.

Upon stating this much, he stepped into his boat, requestingall who were so disposed to follow him.  The sailors, fromtheir habits, found no scruple on this subject, and all of theartificers, though a little tardy, also embarked, excepting fourof the masons, who, from the beginning, mentioned that they woulddecline working on Sundays.  It may here be noticed thatthroughout the whole of the operations it was observable that themen wrought, if possible, with more keenness upon the Sundaysthan at other times from an impression that they were engaged ina work of imperious necessity, which required every possibleexertion.  On returning to the floating light, afterfinishing the tide’s work, the boats were received by thepart of the ship’s crew left on board with the usualattention of handing ropes to the boats and helping theartificers on board; but the four masons who had absentedthemselves from the work did not appear upon deck.

[Monday, 24th Aug.]

The boats left the floating light at a quarter-past nineo’clock this morning, and the work began at three-quarterspast nine; but as the neap-tides were approaching the workingtime at the rock became gradually shorter, and it was now withdifficulty that two and a half hours’ work could begot.  But so keenly had the workmen entered into the spiritof the beacon-house operations, that they continued to bore theholes in the rock till some of them were knee-deep in water.

The operations at this time were entirely directed to theerection of the beacon, in which every man felt an equalinterest, as at this critical period the slightest casualty toany of the boats at the rock might have been fatal to himselfindividually, while it was perhaps peculiar to the writer moreimmediately to feel for the safety of the whole.  Each logor upright beam of the beacon was to be fixed to the rock by twostrong and massive bats or stanchions of iron.  These bats,for the fixture of the principal and diagonal beams and bracingchains, required fifty-four holes, each measuring two inches indiameter and eighteen inches in depth.  There had alreadybeen so considerable a progress made in boring and excavating theholes that the writer’s hopes of getting the beacon erectedthis year began to be more and more confirmed, although it wasnow advancing towards what was considered the latter end of theproper working season at the Bell Rock.  The foreman joiner,Mr. Francis Watt, was accordingly appointed to attend at the rockto-day, when the necessary levels were taken for the step or seatof each particular beam of the beacon, that they might be cut totheir respective lengths, to suit the inequalities of the rock;several of the stanchions were also tried into their places, andother necessary observations made, to prevent mistakes on theapplication of the apparatus, and to facilitate the operationswhen the beams came to be set up, which would require to be donein the course of a single tide.

[Tuesday, 25th Aug.]

We had now experienced an almost unvaried tract of light airsof easterly wind, with clear weather in the fore-part of the dayand fog in the evenings.  To-day, however, it sensiblychanged; when the wind came to the south-west, and blew a freshbreeze.  At nine a.m. the bell rung, and the boats werehoisted out, and though the artificers were now pretty wellaccustomed to tripping up and down the sides of the floatinglight, yet it required more seamanship this morning thanusual.  It therefore afforded some merriment to those whohad got fairly seated in their respective boats to see thedifficulties which attended their companions, and the hesitatingmanner in which they quitted hold of the man-ropes in leaving theship.  The passage to the rock was tedious, and the boatsdid not reach it till half-past ten.

It being now the period of neap-tides, the water onlypartially left the rock, and some of the men who were boring onthe lower ledges of the site of the beacon stood knee-deep inwater.  The situation of the smith to-day was particularlydisagreeable, but his services were at all timesindispensable.  As the tide did not leave the site of theforge, he stood in the water, and as there was some roughness onthe surface it was with considerable difficulty that, with theassistance of the sailors, he was enabled to preserve alive hisfire; and, while his feet were immersed in water, his face wasnot only scorched but continually exposed to volumes of smoke,accompanied with sparks from the fire, which were occasionallyset up owing to the strength and direction of the wind.

[Wednesday, 26th Aug.]

The wind had shifted this morning to N.N.W., with rain, andwas blowing what sailors call a fresh breeze.  To speak,perhaps, somewhat more intelligibly to the general reader, thewind was such that a fishing-boat could just carry fullsail.  But as it was of importance, specially in the outsetof the business, to keep up the spirit of enterprise for landingon all practicable occasions, the writer, after consulting withthe landing-master, ordered the bell to be rung for embarking,and at half-past eleven the boats reached the rock, and left itagain at a quarter-past twelve, without, however, being able todo much work, as the smith could not be set to work from thesmallness of the ebb and the strong breach of sea, which lashedwith great force among the bars of the forge.

Just as we were about to leave the rock the wind shifted tothe S.W., and, from a fresh gale, it became what seamen term ahard gale, or such as would have required the fisherman to takein two or three reefs in his sail.  It is a curious factthat the respective tides of ebb and flood are apparent upon theshore about an hour and a half sooner than at the distance ofthree or four miles in the offing.  But what seems chieflyinteresting here is that the tides around this small sunken rockshould follow exactly the same laws as on the extensive shores ofthe mainland.  When the boats left the Bell Rock to-day itwas overflowed by the flood-tide, but the floating light did notswing round to the flood-tide for more than an hourafterwards.  Under this disadvantage the boats had tostruggle with the ebb-tide and a hard gale of wind, so that itwas with the greatest difficulty that they reached the floatinglight.  Had this gale happened in spring-tides when thecurrent was strong we must have been driven to sea in a veryhelpless condition.

The boat which the writer steered was considerably behind theother, one of the masons having unluckily broken his oar. Our prospect of getting on board, of course, became doubtful, andour situation was rather perilous, as the boat shipped so muchsea that it occupied two of the artificers to bale and clear herof water.  When the oar gave way we were about half a milefrom the ship, but, being fortunately to windward, we got intothe wake of the floating light, at about 250 fathoms astern, justas the landing-master’s boat reached the vessel.  Heimmediately streamed or floated a life-buoy astern, with a linewhich was always in readiness, and by means of this usefulimplement the boat was towed alongside of the floating light,where, from her rolling motion, it required no small managementto get safely on board, as the men were much worn out with theirexertions in pulling from the rock.  On the present occasionthe crews of both boats were completely drenched with spray, andthose who sat upon the bottom of the boats to bale them weresometimes pretty deep in the water before it could be clearedout.  After getting on board, all hands were allowed anextra dram, and, having shifted and got a warm and comfortabledinner, the affair, it is believed, was little more thoughtof.

[Thursday, 27th Aug.]

The tides were now in that state which sailors term the deadof the neap, and it was not expected that any part of the rockwould be seen above water to-day; at any rate, it was obvious,from the experience of yesterday, that no work could be done uponit, and therefore the artificers were not required to land. The wind was at west, with light breezes, and fine clear weather;and as it was an object with the writer to know the actual stateof the Bell Rock at neap-tides, he got one of the boats manned,and, being accompanied by the landing-master, went to it at aquarter-past twelve.  The parts of the rock that appearedabove water being very trifling, were covered by every wave, sothat no landing was made.  Upon trying the depth of waterwith a boathook, particularly on the sites of the lighthouse andbeacon, on the former, at low water, the depth was found to bethree feet, and on the central parts of the latter it wasascertained to be two feet eight inches.  Having made theseremarks, the boat returned to the ship at two p.m., and theweather being good, the artificers were found amusing themselveswith fishing.  The Smeatoncame from Arbroath thisafternoon, and made fast to her moorings, having brought lettersand newspapers, with parcels of clean linen, etc., for theworkmen, who were also made happy by the arrival of three oftheir comrades from the workyard ashore.  From these menthey not only received all the news of the workyard, but seemedthemselves to enjoy great pleasure in communicating whatever theyconsidered to be interesting with regard to the rock.  Somealso got letters from their friends at a distance, the postage ofwhich for the men afloat was always free, so that theycorresponded the more readily.

The site of the building having already been carefully tracedout with the pick-axe, the artificers this day commenced theexcavation of the rock for the foundation or first course of thelighthouse.  Four men only were employed at this work, whiletwelve continued at the site of the beacon-house, at which everypossible opportunity was embraced, till this essential art of theoperations should be completed.

[Wednesday, 2nd Sept.]

The floating light’s bell rung this morning at half-pastfour o’clock, as a signal for the boats to be got ready,and the landing took place at half-past five.  In passingthe Smeatonat her moorings near the rock, her boatfollowed with eight additional artificers who had come fromArbroath with her at last trip, but there being no room for themin the floating light’s boats, they had continued onboard.  The weather did not look very promising in themorning, the wind blowing pretty fresh from W.S.W.: and had itnot been that the writer calculated upon having a vessel so muchat command, in all probability he would not have ventured toland.  The Smeatonrode at what sailors call asalvagee, with a cross-head made fast to the floatingbuoy.  This kind of attachment was found to be moreconvenient than the mode of passing the hawser through the ringof the buoy when the vessel was to be made fast.  She hadthen only to be steered very close to the buoy, when the salvageewas laid hold of with a boat-hook, and the biteof thehawser thrown over the cross-head.  But the salvagee, bythis method, was always left at the buoy, and was, of course,more liable to chafe and wear than a hawser passed through thering, which could be wattled with canvas, and shifted atpleasure.  The salvagee and cross method is, however, muchpractised; but the experience of this morning showed it to bevery unsuitable for vessels riding in an exposed situation forany length of time.

Soon after the artificers landed they commenced work; but thewind coming to blow hard, the Smeaton’sboat andcrew, who had brought their complement of eight men to the rock,went off to examine her riding ropes, and see that they were inproper order.  The boat had no sooner reached the vesselthan she went adrift, carrying the boat along with her.  Bythe time that she was got round to make a tack towards the rock,she had drifted at least three miles to leeward, with thepraam-boat astern; and, having both the wind and a tide againsther, the writer perceived, with no little anxiety, that she couldnot possibly return to the rock till long after its beingoverflowed; for, owing to the anomaly of the tides formerlynoticed, the Bell Rock is completely under water when the ebbabates to the offing.

In this perilous predicament, indeed, he found himself placedbetween hope and despair—but certainly the latter was bymuch the most predominant feeling of his mind—situate upona sunken rock in the middle of the ocean, which, in the progressof the flood-tide, was to be laid under water to the depth of atleast twelve feet in a stormy sea.  There were this morningthirty-two persons in all upon the rock, with only two boats,whose complement, even in good weather, did not exceedtwenty-four sitters; but to row to the floating light with somuch wind, and in so heavy a sea, a complement of eight men foreach boat was as much as could, with propriety, be attempted, sothat, in this way, about one-half of our number was unprovidedfor.  Under these circumstances, had the writer ventured todespatch one of the boats in expectation of either working theSmeatonsooner up towards the rock, or in hopes of gettingher boat brought to our assistance, this must have given animmediate alarm to the artificers, each of whom would haveinsisted upon taking to his own boat, and leaving the eightartificers belonging to the Smeatonto their chance. Of course a scuffle might have ensued, and it is hard to say, inthe ardour of men contending for life, where it might haveended.  It has even been hinted to the writer that a partyof the pickmenwere determined to keep exclusively totheir own boat against all hazards.

The unfortunate circumstance of the Smeatonand herboat having drifted was, for a considerable time, only known tothe writer and to the landing-master, who removed to the fartherpoint of the rock, where he kept his eye steadily upon theprogress of the vessel.  While the artificers were at work,chiefly in sitting or kneeling postures, excavating the rock, orboring with the jumpers, and while their numerous hammers, withthe sound of the smith’s anvil, continued, the situation ofthings did not appear so awful.  In this state of suspense,with almost certain destruction at hand, the water began to riseupon those who were at work on the lower parts of the sites ofthe beacon and lighthouse.  From the run of sea upon therock, the forge fire was also sooner extinguished this morningthan usual, and the volumes of smoke having ceased, objects inevery direction became visible from all parts of the rock. After having had about three ‘hours’ work, the menbegan, pretty generally, to make towards their respective boatsfor their jackets and stockings, when, to their astonishment,instead of three, they found only two boats, the third beingadrift with the Smeaton.  Not a word was uttered byany one, but all appeared to be silently calculating theirnumbers, and looking to each other with evident marks ofperplexity depicted in their countenances.  Thelanding-master, conceiving that blame might be attached to himfor allowing the boat to leave the rock, still kept at adistance.  At this critical moment the author was standingupon an elevated part of Smith’s Ledge, where heendeavoured to mark the progress of the Smeaton, not alittle surprised that her crew did not cut the praam adrift,which greatly retarded her way, and amazed that some effort wasnot making to bring at least the boat, and attempt ourrelief.  The workmen looked steadfastly upon the writer, andturned occasionally towards the vessel, still far to leeward. [122a]  All this passed in the mostperfect silence, and the melancholy solemnity of the group madean impression never to be effaced from his mind.

The writer had all along been considering of variousschemes—providing the men could be kept undercommand—which might be put in practice for the generalsafety, in hopes that the Smeatonmight be able to pick upthe boats to leeward, when they were obliged to leave therock.  He was, accordingly, about to address the artificerson the perilous nature of their circumstances, and to proposethat all hands should unstrip their upper clothing when thehigher parts of the rock were laid under water; that the seamenshould remove every unnecessary weight and encumbrance from theboats; that a specified number of men should go into each boat,and that the remainder should hang by the gunwales, while theboats were to be rowed gently towards the Smeaton, as thecourse to the Pharos, or floating light, lay rather towindward of the rock.  But when he attempted to speak hismouth was so parched that his tongue refused utterance, and henow learned by experience that the saliva is as necessary as thetongue itself for speech.  He turned to one of the pools onthe rock and lapped a little water, which produced immediaterelief.  But what was his happiness, when on rising fromthis unpleasant beverage, some one called out, ‘A boat! aboat!’ and, on looking around, at no great distance, alarge boat was seen through the haze making towards therock.  This at once enlivened and rejoiced everyheart.  The timeous visitor proved to be James Spink, theBell Rock pilot, who had come express from Arbroath withletters.  Spink had for some time seen the Smeaton,and had even supposed, from the state of the weather, that allhands were on board of her till he approached more nearly andobserved people upon the rock; but not supposing that theassistance of his boat was necessary to carry the artificers offthe rock, he anchored on the lee-side and began to fish, waiting,as usual, till the letters were sent for, as the pilot-boat wastoo large and unwieldy for approaching the rock when there wasany roughness or run of the sea at the entrance of the landingcreeks.

Upon this fortunate change of circumstances, sixteen of theartificers were sent, at two trips, in one of the boats, withinstructions for Spink to proceed with them to the floatinglight.  This being accomplished, the remaining sixteenfollowed in the two boats belonging to the service of therock.  Every one felt the most perfect happiness at leavingthe Bell Rock this morning, though a very hard and even dangerouspassage to the floating light still awaited us, as the wind bythis time had increased to a pretty hard gale, accompanied with aconsiderable swell of sea.  Every one was as completelydrenched in water as if he had been dragged astern of theboats.  The writer, in particular, being at the helm, found,on getting on board, that his face and ears were completelycoated with a thin film of salt from the sea spray, which brokeconstantly over the bows of the boat.  After much baling ofwater and severe work at the oars, the three boats reached thefloating light, where some new difficulties occurred in gettingon board in safety, owing partly to the exhausted state of themen, and partly to the violent rolling of the vessel.

As the tide flowed, it was expected that the Smeatonwould have got to windward; but, seeing that all was safe, aftertacking for several hours and making little progress, she boreaway for Arbroath, with the praam-boat.  As there was nowtoo much wind for the pilot-boat to return to Arbroath, she wasmade fast astern of the floating light, and the crew remained onboard till next day, when the weather moderated.  There canbe very little doubt that the appearance of James Spink with hisboat on this critical occasion was the means of preventing theloss of lives at the rock this morning.  When thesecircumstances, some years afterwards, came to the knowledge ofthe Board, a small pension was ordered to our faithful pilot,then in his seventieth year; and he still continues to wear theuniform clothes and badge of the Lighthouse service.  Spinkis a remarkably strong man, whose tout ensembleis highlycharacteristic of a North-country fisherman.  He usuallydresses in a pé-jacket, cut after a particularfashion, and wears a large, flat, blue bonnet.  A strikinglikeness of Spink in his pilot-dress, with the badge or insigniaon his left arm which is characteristic of the boatmen in theservice of the Northern Lights, has been taken by Howe, and is inthe writer’s possession.

[Thursday, 3rd Sept.]

The bell rung this morning at five o’clock, but thewriter must acknowledge, from the circumstances of yesterday,that its sound was extremely unwelcome.  This appears alsoto have been the feelings of the artificers, for when they cameto be mustered, out of twenty-six, only eight, besides theforeman and seamen, appeared upon deck to accompany the writer tothe rock.  Such are the baneful effects of anything likemisfortune or accident connected with a work of thisdescription.  The use of argument to persuade the men toembark in cases of this kind would have been out of place, as itis not only discomfort, or even the risk of the loss of a limb,but life itself that becomes the question.  The boats,notwithstanding the thinness of our ranks, left the vessel athalf-past five.  The rough weather of yesterday havingproved but a summer’s gale, the wind came to-day in gentlebreezes; yet, the atmosphere being cloudy, it a not a veryfavourable appearance.  The boats reached the rock at sixa.m., and the eight artificers who landed were employed inclearing out the bat-holes for the beacon-house, and had a veryprosperous tide of four hours’ work, being the longest yetexperienced by half an hour.

The boats left the rock again at ten o’clock, and theweather having cleared up as we drew near the vessel, theeighteen artificers who had remained on board were observed upondeck, but as the boats approached they sought their way below,being quite ashamed of their conduct.  This was the onlyinstance of refusal to go to the rock which occurred during thewhole progress of the work, excepting that of the four men whodeclined working upon Sunday, a case which the writer did notconceive to be at all analogous to the present.  It may herebe mentioned, much to the credit of these four men, that theystood foremost in embarking for the rock this morning.

[Saturday, 5th Sept.]

It was fortunate that a landing was not attempted thisevening, for at eight o’clock the wind shifted to E.S.E.,and at ten it had become a hard gale, when fifty fathoms of thefloating light’s hempen cable were veered out.  Thegale still increasing, the ship rolled and laboured excessively,and at midnight eighty fathoms of cable were veered out; whilethe sea continued to strike the vessel with a degree of forcewhich had not before been experienced.

[Sunday, 6th Sept.]

During the last night there was little rest on board of thePharos, and daylight, though anxiously wished for, broughtno relief, as the gale continued with unabated violence. The sea struck so hard upon the vessel’s bows that it rosein great quantities, or in ‘green seas,’ as thesailors termed it, which were carried by the wind as far aft asthe quarter-deck, and not infrequently over the stern of the shipaltogether.  It fell occasionally so heavily on the skylightof the writer’s cabin, though so far aft as to be withinfive feet of the helm, that the glass was broken to pieces beforethe dead-light could be got into its place, so that the waterpoured down in great quantities.  In shutting out the water,the admission of light was prevented, and in the morning allcontinued in the most comfortless state of darkness.  Aboutten o’clock a.m. the wind shifted to N.E., and blew, ifpossible, harder than before, and it was accompanied by a muchheavier swell of sea.  In the course of the gale, the partof the cable in the hause-hole had been so often shifted thatnearly the whole length of one of her hempen cables, of 120fathoms, had been veered out, besides the chain-moorings. The cable, for its preservation, was also carefully served orwattled with pieces of canvas round the windlass, and withleather well greased in the hause-hole.  In this statethings remained during the whole day, every sea which struck thevessel—and the seas followed each other in closesuccession—causing her to shake, and all on boardoccasionally to tremble.  At each of these strokes of thesea the rolling and pitching of the vessel ceased for a time, andher motion was felt as if she had either broke adrift before thewind or were in the act of sinking; but, when another sea came,she ranged up against it with great force, and this became theregular intimation of our being still riding at anchor.

About eleven o’clock, the writer with some difficultygot out of bed, but, in attempting to dress, he was thrown twiceupon the floor at the opposite end of the cabin.  In anundressed state he made shift to get about half-way up thecompanion-stairs, with an intention to observe the state of thesea and of the ship upon deck; but he no sooner looked over thecompanion than a heavy sea struck the vessel, which fell on thequarter-deck, and rushed downstairs in the officers’ cabinin so considerable a quantity that it was found necessary to liftone of the scuttles in the floor, to let the water into thelimbers of the ship, as it dashed from side to side in such amanner as to run into the lower tier of beds.  Having beenfoiled in this attempt, and being completely wetted, he again gotbelow and went to bed.  In this state of the weather theseamen had to move about the necessary or indispensable duties ofthe ship with the most cautious use both of hands and feet, whileit required all the art of the landsman to keep within theprecincts of his bed.  The writer even found himself so muchtossed about that it became necessary, in some measure, to shuthimself in bed, in order to avoid being thrown upon thefloor.  Indeed, such was the motion of the ship that itseemed wholly impracticable to remain in any other than a lyingposture.  On deck the most stormy aspect presented itself,while below all was wet and comfortless.

 About two o’clock p.m. a great alarm was giventhroughout the ship from the effects of a very heavy sea whichstruck her, and almost filled the waist, pouring down into theberths below, through every chink and crevice of the hatches andskylights.  From the motion of the vessel being thussuddenly deadened or checked, and from the flowing in of thewater above, it is believed there was not an individual on boardwho did not think, at the moment, that the vessel had foundered,and was in the act of sinking.  The writer could withstandthis no longer, and as soon as she again began to range to thesea he determined to make another effort to get upon deck. In the first instance, however, he groped his way in darknessfrom his own cabin through the berths of the officers, where allwas quietness.  He next entered the galley and othercompartments occupied by the artificers.  Here also all wasshut up in darkness, the fire having been drowned out in theearly part of the gale.  Several of the artificers wereemployed in prayer, repeating psalms and other devotionalexercises in a full tone of voice; others protesting that, ifthey should fortunately get once more on shore, no one shouldever see them afloat again.  With the assistance of thelanding-master, the writer made his way, holding on step by step,among the numerous impediments which lay in the way.  Suchwas the creaking noise of the bulk-heads or partitions, thedashing of the water, and the whistling noise of the winds, thatit was hardly possible to break in upon such a confusion ofsounds.  In one or two instances, anxious and repeatedinquiries were made by the artificers as to the state of thingsupon deck, to which the captain made the usual answer, that itcould not blow long in this way, and that we must soon havebetter weather.  The next berth in succession, movingforward in the ship, was that allotted for the seamen.  Herethe scene was considerably different.  Having reached themiddle of this darksome berth without its inmates being aware ofany intrusion, the writer had the consolation of remarking that,although they talked of bad weather and the cross accidents ofthe sea, yet the conversation was carried on in that sort of toneand manner which bespoke an ease and composure of mind highlycreditable to them and pleasing to him.  The writerimmediately accosted the seamen about the state of theship.  To these inquiries they replied that the vessel beinglight, and having but little hold of the water, no top-rigging,with excellent ground-tackle, and everything being fresh and new,they felt perfect confidence in their situation.

It being impossible to open any of the hatches in the forepart of the ship in communicating with the deck, the watch waschanged by passing through the several berths to thecompanion-stair leading to the quarter-deck.  The writer,therefore, made the best of his way aft, and, on a second attemptto look out, he succeeded, and saw indeed an astonishingsight.  The sea or waves appeared to be ten or fifteen feetin height of unbroken water, and every approaching billow seemedas if it would overwhelm our vessel, but she continued to riseupon the waves and to fall between the seas in a very wonderfulmanner.  It seemed to be only those seas which caught her inthe act of rising which struck her with so much violence andthrew such quantities of water aft.  On deck there was onlyone solitary individual looking out, to give the alarm in theevent of the ship breaking from her moorings.  The seaman onwatch continued only two hours; he who kept watch at this timewas a tall, slender man of a black complexion; he had nogreatcoat nor over-all of any kind, but was simply dressed in hisordinary jacket and trousers; his hat was tied under his chinwith a napkin, and he stood aft the foremast, to which he hadlashed himself with a gasket or small rope round his waist, toprevent his falling upon deck or being washed overboard. When the writer looked up, he appeared to smile, which afforded afurther symptom of the confidence of the crew in theirship.  This person on watch was as completely wetted as ifhe had been drawn through the sea, which was given as a reasonfor his not putting on a greatcoat, that he might wet as few ofhis clothes as possible, and have a dry shift when he wentbelow.  Upon deck everything that was movable was out ofsight, having either been stowed below, previous to the gale, orbeen washed overboard.  Some trifling parts of the quarterboards were damaged by the breach of the sea; and one of theboats upon deck was about one-third full of water, the oyle-holeor drain having been accidently stopped up, and part of hergunwale had received considerable injury.  Theseobservations were hastily made, and not without occasionallyshutting the companion, to avoid being wetted by the successiveseas which broke over the bows and fell upon different parts ofthe deck according to the impetus with which the waves struck thevessel.  By this time it was about three o’clock inthe afternoon, and the gale, which had now continued withunabated force for twenty-seven hours, had not the leastappearance of going off.

In the dismal prospect of undergoing another night like thelast, and being in imminent hazard of parting from our cable, thewriter thought it necessary to advise with the master andofficers of the ship as to the probable event of thevessel’s drifting from her moorings.  They severallygave it as their opinion that we had now every chance of ridingout the gale, which, in all probability, could not continue withthe same fury many hours longer; and that even if she should partfrom her anchor, the storm-sails had been laid to hand, and couldbe bent in a very short time.  They further stated that fromthe direction of the wind being N.E., she would sail up the Firthof Forth to Leith Roads.  But if this should appeardoubtful, after passing the Island and Light of May, it might beadvisable at once to steer for Tyningham Sands, on the westernside of Dunbar, and there run the vessel ashore.  If thisshould happen at the time of high-water, or during the ebbing ofthe tide, they were of opinion, from the flatness and strength ofthe floating light, that no danger would attend her taking theground, even with a very heavy sea.  The writer, seeing theconfidence which these gentlemen possessed with regard to thesituation of things, found himself as much relieved with thisconversation as he had previously been with the seemingindifference of the forecastle men, and the smile of the watchupon deck, though literally lashed to the foremast.  Fromthis time he felt himself almost perfectly at ease; at any rate,he was entirely resigned to the ultimate result.

About six o’clock in the evening the ship’scompany was heard moving upon deck, which on the present occasionwas rather the cause of alarm.  The writer accordingly ranghis bell to know what was the matter, when he was informed by thesteward that the weather looked considerably better, and that themen upon deck were endeavouring to ship the smoke-funnel of thegalley that the people might get some meat.  This was a morefavourable account than had been anticipated.  During thelast twenty-one hours he himself had not only had nothing to eat,but he had almost never passed a thought on the subject. Upon the mention of a change of weather, he sent the steward tolearn how the artificers felt, and on his return he stated thatthey now seemed to be all very happy, since the cook had begun tolight the galley-fire and make preparations for the suet-puddingof Sunday, which was the only dish to be attempted for the mess,from the ease with which it could both be cooked and servedup.

The principal change felt upon the ship as the wind abated washer increased rolling motion, but the pitching was muchdiminished, and now hardly any sea came farther aft than theforemast: but she rolled so extremely hard as frequently to dipand take in water over the gunwales and rails in the waist. By nine o’clock all hands had been refreshed by theexertions of the cook and steward, and were happy in the prospectof the worst of the gale being over.  The usual complementof men was also now set on watch, and more quietness wasexperienced throughout the ship.  Although the previousnight had been a very restless one, it had not the effect ofinducing repose in the writer’s berth on the succeedingnight; for having been so much tossed about in bed during thelast thirty hours, he found no easy spot to turn to, and his bodywas all sore to the touch, which ill accorded with the unyieldingmaterials with which his bed-place was surrounded.

[Monday, 7th Sept.]

This morning, about eight o’clock, the writer wasagreeably surprised to see the scuttle of his cabin sky-lightremoved, and the bright rays of the sun admitted.  Althoughthe ship continued to roll excessively, and the sea was stillrunning very high, yet the ordinary business on board seemed tobe going forward on deck.  It was impossible to steady atelescope, so as to look minutely at the progress of the wavesand trace their breach upon the Bell Rock; but the height towhich the cross-running waves rose in sprays when they met eachother was truly grand, and the continued roar and noise of thesea was very perceptible to the ear.  To estimate the heightof the sprays at forty or fifty feet would surely be within themark.  Those of the workmen who were not much afflicted withsea-sickness, came upon deck, and the wetness below being driedup, the cabins were again brought into a habitable state. Every one seemed to meet as if after a long absence,congratulating his neighbour upon the return of goodweather.  Little could be said as to the comfort of thevessel, but after riding out such a gale, no one felt the leastdoubt or hesitation as to the safety and good condition of hermoorings.  The master and mate were extremely anxious,however, to heave in the hempen cable, and see the state of theclinch or iron ring of the chain-cable.  But the vesselrolled at such a rate that the seamen could not possibly keeptheir feet at the windlass nor work the hand-spikes, though ithad been several times attempted since the gale took off.

About twelve noon, however, the vessel’s motion wasobserved to be considerably less, and the sailors were enabled towalk upon deck with some degree of freedom.  But, to theastonishment of every one, it was soon discovered that thefloating light was adrift!  The windlass was instantlymanned, and the men soon gave out that there was no strain uponthe cable.  The mizzen sail, which was bent for theoccasional purpose of making the vessel ride more easily to thetide, was immediately set, and the other sails were also hoistedin a short time, when, in no small consternation, we bore awayabout one mile to the south-westward of the former station, andthere let go the best bower anchor and cable in twenty fathomswater, to ride until the swell of the sea should fall, when itmight be practicable to grapple for the moorings, and find abetter anchorage for the ship.

[Tuesday, 15th Sept.]

This morning, at five a.m., the bell rung as a signal forlanding upon the rock, a sound which, after a lapse of ten days,it is believed was welcomed by every one on board.  Therebeing a heavy breach of sea at the eastern creek, we landed,though not without difficulty, on the western side, every oneseeming more eager than another to get upon the rock; and neverdid hungry men sit down to a hearty meal with more appetite thanthe artificers began to pick the dulse from the rocks.  Thismarine plant had the effect of reviving the sickly, and seemed tobe no less relished by those who were more hardy.

While the water was ebbing, and the men were roaming in questof their favourite morsel, the writer was examining the effectsof the storm upon the forge and loose apparatus left upon therock.  Six large blocks of granite which had been landed, byway of experiment, on the 1st instant, were now removed fromtheir places and, by the force of the sea, thrown over a risingledge into a hole at the distance of twelve or fifteen paces fromthe place on which they had been landed.  This was a prettygood evidence both of the violence of the storm and the agitationof the sea upon the rock.  The safety of the smith’sforge was always an object of essential regard.  The ash-panof the hearth or fireplace, with its weighty cast-iron back, hadbeen washed from their places of supposed security; the chains ofattachment had been broken, and these ponderous articles werefound at a very considerable distance in a hole on the westernside of the rock; while the tools and picks of the Aberdeenmasons were scattered about in every direction.  It is,however, remarkable that not a single article was ultimatelylost.

This being the night on which the floating light wasadvertised to be lighted, it was accordingly exhibited, to thegreat joy of every one.

[Wednesday, 16th Sept.]

The writer was made happy to-day by the return of theLighthouse yacht from a voyage to the Northern Lighthouses. Having immediately removed on board of this fine vessel ofeighty-one tons register, the artificers gladly followed; for,though they found themselves more pinched for accommodation onboard of the yacht, and still more so in the Smeaton, yetthey greatly preferred either of these to the Pharos, orfloating light, on account of her rolling motion, though in allrespects fitted up for their conveniency.

The writer called them to the quarter-deck and informed themthat, having been one mouth afloat, in terms of their agreementthey were now at liberty to return to the workyard at Arbroath ifthey preferred this to continuing at the Bell Rock.  Butthey replied that, in the prospect of soon getting the beaconerected upon the rock, and having made a change from the floatinglight, they were now perfectly reconciled to their situation, andwould remain afloat till the end of the working season.

[Thursday, 17th Sept.]

The wind was at N.E. this morning, and though they were onlylight airs, yet there was a pretty heavy swell coming ashore uponthe rock.  The boats landed at half-past seven o’clocka.m., at the creek on the southern side of the rock, marked PortHamilton.  But as one of the boats was in the act ofentering this creek, the seaman at the bow-oar, who had justentered the service, having inadvertently expressed some fearfrom a heavy sea which came rolling towards the boat, and one ofthe artificers having at the same time looked round and missed astroke with his oar, such a preponderance was thus given to therowers upon the opposite side that when the wave struck the boatit threw her upon a ledge of shelving rocks, where the water lefther, and she having kantedto seaward, the next wavecompletely filled her with water.  After making considerableefforts the boat was again got afloat in the proper track of thecreek, so that we landed without any other accident than acomplete ducking.  There being no possibility of getting ashift of clothes, the artificers began with all speed to work, soas to bring themselves into heat, while the writer and hisassistants kept as much as possible in motion.  Havingremained more than an hour upon the rock, the boats left it athalf-past nine; and, after getting on board, the writerrecommended to the artificers, as the best mode of getting into astate of comfort, to strip off their wet clothes and go to bedfor an hour or two.  No further inconveniency was felt, andno one seemed to complain of the affection called ‘catchingcold.’

[Friday, 18th Sept.]

An important occurrence connected with the operations of thisseason was the arrival of the Smeatonat four p.m., havingin tow the six principal beams of the beacon-house, together withall the stanchions and other work on board for fixing it on therock.  The mooring of the floating light was a great pointgained, but in the erection of the beacon at this late period ofthe season new difficulties presented themselves.  Thesuccess of such an undertaking at any season was precarious,because a single day of bad weather occurring before thenecessary fixtures could be made might sweep the whole apparatusfrom the rock.  Notwithstanding these difficulties, thewriter had determined to make the trial, although he could almosthave wished, upon looking at the state of the clouds and thedirection of the wind, that the apparatus for the beacon had beenstill in the workyard.

[Saturday, 19th Sept.]

The main beams of the beacon were made up in two separaterafts, fixed with bars and bolts of iron.  One of theserafts, not being immediately wanted, was left astern of thefloating light, and the other was kept in tow by theSmeaton, at the buoy nearest to the rock.  TheLighthouse yacht rode at another buoy with all hands on boardthat could possibly be spared out of the floating light. The party of artificers and seamen which landed on the rockcounted altogether forty in number.  At half-past eighto’clock a derrick, or mast of thirty feet in height, waserected and properly supported with guy-ropes, for suspending theblock for raising the first principal beam of the beacon; and awinch machine was also bolted down to the rock for working thepurchase-tackle.

Upon raising the derrick, all hands on the rock spontaneouslygave three hearty cheers, as a favourable omen of our futureexertions in pointing out more permanently the position of therock.  Even to this single spar of timber, could it bepreserved, a drowning man might lay hold.  When theSmeatondrifted on the 2nd of this month such a spar wouldhave been sufficient to save us till she could have come to ourrelief.

[Sunday, 20th Sept.]

The wind this morning was variable, but the weather continuedextremely favourable for the operations throughout the wholeday.  At six a.m. the boats were in motion, and the raft,consisting of four of the six principal beams of thebeacon-house, each measuring about sixteen inches square, andfifty feet in length, was towed to the rock, where it wasanchored, that it might ground upon it as the water ebbed. The sailors and artificers, including all hands, to-day countedno fewer than fifty-two, being perhaps the greatest number ofpersons ever collected upon the Bell Rock.  It was early inthe tide when the boats reached the rock, and the men worked aconsiderable time up to their middle in water, every one beingmore eager than his neighbour to be useful.  Even the fourartificers who had hitherto declined working on Sunday wereto-day most zealous in their exertions.  They had indeedbecome so convinced of the precarious nature and necessity of thework that they never afterwards absented themselves from the rockon Sunday when a landing was practicable.

Having made fast a piece of very good new line, at abouttwo-thirds from the lower end of one of the beams, thepurchase-tackle of the derrick was hooked into the turns of theline, and it was speedily raised by the number of men on the rockand the power of the winch tackle.  When this log was liftedto a sufficient height, its foot, or lower end, wassteppedinto the spot which had been previously preparedfor it.  Two of the great iron stanchions were then set intheir respective holes on each side of the beam, when a rope waspassed round them and the beam, to prevent it from slipping tillit could be more permanently fixed.  The derrick, or uprightspar used for carrying the tackle to raise the first beam, wasplaced in such a position as to become useful for supporting theupper end of it, which now became, in its turn, the prop of thetackle for raising the second beam.  The whole difficulty ofthis operation was in the raising and propping of the first beam,which became a convenient derrick for raising the second, theseagain a pair of shears for lifting the third, and the shears atriangle for raising the fourth.  Having thus got four ofthe six principal beams set on end, it required a considerabledegree of trouble to get their upper ends to fit.  Here theyformed the apex of a cone, and were all together mortised into alarge piece of beechwood, and secured, for the present, withropes, in a temporary manner.  During the short period ofone tide all that could further be done for their security was toput a single screw-bolt through the great kneed bats orstanchions on each side of the beams, and screw the nut home.

In this manner these four principal beams were erected, andleft in a pretty secure state.  The men had commenced whilethere was about two or three feet of water upon the side of thebeacon, and as the sea was smooth they continued the work equallylong during flood-tide.  Two of the boats being left at therock to take off the joiners, who were busily employed on theupper parts till two o’clock p.m., this tide’s workmay be said to have continued for about seven hours, which wasthe longest that had hitherto been got upon the rock by at leastthree hours.

When the first boats left the rock with the artificersemployed on the lower part of the work during the flood-tide, thebeacon had quite a novel appearance.  The beams erectedformed a common base of about thirty-three feet, meeting at thetop, which was about forty-five feet above the rock, and herehalf a dozen of the artificers were still at work.  Afterclearing the rock the boats made a stop, when three hearty cheerswere given, which were returned with equal goodwill by those uponthe beacon, from the personal interest which every one felt inthe prosperity of this work, so intimately connected with hissafety.

All hands having returned to their respective ships, they gota shift of dry clothes and some refreshment.  Being Sunday,they were afterwards convened by signal on board of theLighthouse yacht, when prayers were read; for every heart uponthis occasion felt gladness, and every mind was disposed to bethankful for the happy and successful termination of theoperations of this day.

[Monday, 21st Sept.]

The remaining two principal beams were erected in the courseof this tide, which, with the assistance of those set upyesterday, was found to be a very simple operation.

The six principal beams of the beacon were thus secured, atleast in a temporary manner, in the course of two tides, or inthe short space of about eleven hours and a half.  Such isthe progress that may be made when active hands and willing mindsset properly to work in operations of this kind.

[Tuesday 22nd, Sept.]

Having now got the weighty part of this work over, and beingthereby relieved of the difficulty both of landing andvictualling such a number of men, the Smeatoncould now bespared, and she was accordingly despatched to Arbroath for asupply of water and provisions, and carried with her six of theartificers who could best be spared.

[Wednesday, 23rd Sept.]

In going out of the eastern harbour, the boat which the writersteered shipped a sea, that filled her about one-third withwater.  She had also been hid for a short time, by the wavesbreaking upon the rock, from the sight of the crew of thepreceding boat, who were much alarmed for our safety, imaginingfor a time that she had gone down.

The Smeatonreturned from Arbroath this afternoon, butthere was so much sea that she could not be made fast to hermoorings, and the vessel was obliged to return to Arbroathwithout being able either to deliver the provisions or take theartificers on board.  The Lighthouse yacht was also soonobliged to follow her example, as the sea was breaking heavilyover her bows.  After getting two reefs in the mainsail, andthe third or storm-jib set, the wind being S.W., she bent towindward, though blowing a hard gale, and got into St. AndrewsBay, where we passed the night under the lee of Fifeness.

[Thursday, 24th Sept.]

At two o’clock this morning we were in St. Andrews Bay,standing off and on shore, with strong gales of wind at S.W.; atseven we were off the entrance of the Tay; at eight stood towardsthe rock, and at ten passed to leeward of it, but could notattempt a landing.  The beacon, however, appeared to remainin good order, and by six p.m. the vessel had again beaten up toSt. Andrews Bay, and got into somewhat smoother water for thenight.

[Friday, 25th Sept.]

At seven o’clock bore away for the Bell Rock, butfinding a heavy sea running on it were unable to land.  Thewriter, however, had the satisfaction to observe, with histelescope, that everything about the beacon appeared entire: andalthough the sea had a most frightful appearance, yet it was theopinion of every one that, since the erection of the beacon, theBell Rock was divested of many of its terrors, and had it beenpossible to have got the boats hoisted out and manned, it mighthave even been found practicable to land.  At six it blew sohard that it was found necessary to strike the topmast and takein a third reef of the mainsail, and under this low canvas wesoon reached St. Andrews Bay, and got again under the lee of theland for the night.  The artificers, being sea-hardy, werequite reconciled to their quarters on board of the Lighthouseyacht; but it is believed that hardly any consideration wouldhave induced them again to take up their abode in the floatinglight.

[Saturday, 26th Sept.]

At daylight the yacht steered towards the Bell Rock, and ateight a.m. made fast to her moorings; at ten, all hands, to theamount of thirty, landed, when the writer had the happiness tofind that the beacon had withstood the violence of the gale andthe heavy breach of sea, everything being found in the same statein which it had been left on the 21st.  The artificers werenow enabled to work upon the rock throughout the whole day, bothat low and high water, but it required the strictest attention tothe state of the weather, in case of their being overtaken with agale, which might prevent the possibility of getting them off therock.

Two somewhat memorable circumstances in the annals of the BellRock attended the operations of this day: one was the removal ofMr. James Dove, the foreman smith, with his apparatus, from therock to the upper part of the beacon, where the forge was nowerected on a temporary platform, laid on the cross beams or upperframing.  The other was the artificers having dined for thefirst time upon the rock, their dinner being cooked on board ofthe yacht, and sent to them by one of the boats.  But whatafforded the greatest happiness and relief was the removal of thelarge bellows, which had all along been a source of much troubleand perplexity, by their hampering and incommoding the boat whichcarried the smiths and their apparatus.

[Saturday, 3rd Oct.]

The wind being west to-day, the weather was very favourablefor operations at the rock, and during the morning and eveningtides, with the aid of torchlight, the masons had sevenhours’ work upon the site of the building.  The smithsand joiners, who landed at half-past six a.m., did not leave therock till a quarter-past eleven p.m., having been at work, withlittle intermission, for sixteen hours and three-quarters. When the water left the rock, they were employed at the lowerparts of the beacon, and as the tide rose or fell, they shiftedthe place of their operations.  From these exertions, thefixing and securing of the beacon made rapid advancement, as themen were now landed in the morning and remained throughout theday.  But, as a sudden change of weather might haveprevented their being taken off at the proper time of tide, aquantity of bread and water was always kept on the beacon.

During this period of working at the beacon all the day, andoften a great part of the night, the writer was much on board ofthe tender; but, while the masons could work on the rock, andfrequently also while it was covered by the tide, he remained onthe beacon; especially during the night, as he made a point ofbeing on the rock to the latest hour, and was generally the lastperson who stepped into the boat.  He had laid this down aspart of his plan of procedure; and in this way had acquired, inthe course of the first season, a pretty complete knowledge andexperience of what could actually be done at the Bell Rock, underall circumstances of the weather.  By this means also hisassistants, and the artificers and mariners, got into asystematic habit of proceeding at the commencement of the work,which, it is believed, continued throughout the whole of theoperations.

[Sunday, 4th Oct.]

The external part of the beacon was now finished, with itssupports and bracing-chains, and whatever else was considerednecessary for its stability in so far as the season would permit;and although much was still wanting to complete this fabric, yetit was in such a state that it could be left without much fear ofthe consequences of a storm.  The painting of the upper partwas nearly finished this afternoon; and the Smeatonhadbrought off a quantity of brushwood and other articles, for thepurpose of heating or charring the lower part of the principalbeams, before being laid over with successive coats of boilingpitch, to the height of from eight to twelve feet, or as high asthe rise of spring-tides.  A small flagstaff having alsobeen erected to-day, a flag was displayed for the first time fromthe beacon, by which its perspective effect was greatlyimproved.  On this, as on all like occasions at the BellRock, three hearty cheers were given; and the steward served outa dram of rum to all hands, while the Lighthouse yacht,Smeaton, and floating light, hoisted their colours incompliment to the erection.

[Monday, 5th Oct.]

In the afternoon, and just as the tide’s work was over,Mr. John Rennie, engineer, accompanied by his son Mr. George, ontheir way to the harbour works of Fraserburgh, in Aberdeenshire,paid a visit to the Bell Rock, in a boat from Arbroath.  Itbeing then too late in the tide for landing, they remained onboard of the Lighthouse yacht all night, when the writer, who hadnow been secluded from society for several weeks, enjoyed much ofMr. Rennie’s interesting conversation, both on generaltopics, and professionally upon the progress of the Bell Rockworks, on which he was consulted as chief engineer.

[Tuesday, 6th Oct.]

The artificers landed this morning at nine, after which one ofthe boats returned to the ship for the writer and Messrs. Rennie,who, upon landing, were saluted with a display of the coloursfrom the beacon and by three cheers from the workmen. Everything was now in a prepared state for leaving the rock, andgiving up the works afloat for this season, excepting some smallarticles, which would still occupy the smiths and joiners for afew days longer.  They accordingly shifted on board of theSmeaton, while the yacht left the rock for Arbroath, withMessrs. Rennie, the writer, and the remainder of theartificers.  But, before taking leave, the steward servedout a farewell glass, when three hearty cheers were given, and anearnest wish expressed that everything, in the spring of 1808,might be found in the same state of good order as it was nowabout to be left.

II—OPERATIONS OF 1808

[Monday, 29th Feb.]

The writer sailed from Arbroath at one a.m. in the Lighthouseyacht.  At seven the floating light was hailed, and all onboard found to be well.  The crew were observed to have avery healthy-like appearance, and looked better than at the closeof the works upon the rock.  They seemed only to regret onething, which was the secession of their cook, ThomasElliot—not on account of his professional skill, but forhis facetious and curious manner.  Elliot had somethingpeculiar in his history, and was reported by his comrades to haveseen better days.  He was, however, happy with his situationon board of the floating light, and, having a taste for music,dancing, and acting plays, he contributed much to the amusementof the ship’s company in their dreary abode during thewinter months.  He had also recommended himself to theirnotice as a good shipkeeper, for as it did not answer Elliot togo often ashore, he had always given up his turn of leave to hisneighbours.  At his own desire he was at length paid off,when he had a considerable balance of wages to receive, which hesaid would be sufficient to carry him to the West Indies, and heaccordingly took leave of the Lighthouse service.

[Tuesday, 1st March]

At daybreak the Lighthouse yacht, attended by a boat from thefloating light, again stood towards the Bell Rock.  Theweather felt extremely cold this morning, the thermometer beingat 34 degrees, with the wind at east, accompanied by occasionalshowers of snow, and the marine barometer indicated 29.80. At half-past seven the sea ran with such force upon the rock thatit seemed doubtful if a landing could be effected.  Athalf-past eight, when it was fairly above water, the writer tookhis place in the floating light’s boat with the artificers,while the yacht’s boat followed, according to the generalrule of having two boats afloat in landing expeditions of thiskind, that, in case of accident to one boat, the other mightassist.  In several unsuccessful attempts the boats werebeat back by the breach of the sea upon the rock.  On theeastern side it separated into two distinct waves, which camewith a sweep round to the western side, where they met; and atthe instance of their confluence the water rose in spray to aconsiderable height.  Watching what the sailors term asmooth, we caught a favourable opportunity, and in a verydexterous manner the boats were rowed between the two seas, andmade a favourable landing at the western creek.

At the latter end of last season, as was formerly noticed, thebeacon was painted white, and from the bleaching of the weatherand the sprays of the sea the upper parts were kept clean; butwithin the range of the tide the principal beams were observed tobe thickly coated with a green stuff, the confervaofbotanists.  Notwithstanding the intrusion of these works,which had formerly banished the numerous seals that played aboutthe rock, they were now seen in great numbers, having been in analmost undisturbed state for six months.  It had now also,for the first time, got some inhabitants of the feathered tribe:in particular the scarth or cormorant, and the largeherring-gull, had made the beacon a resting-place, from itsvicinity to their fishing-grounds.  About a dozen of thesebirds had rested upon the cross-beams, which, in some places,were coated with their dung; and their flight, as the boatsapproached, was a very unlooked-for indication of life andhabitation on the Bell Rock, conveying the momentary idea of theconversion of this fatal rock, from being a terror to themariner, into a residence of man and a safeguard to shipping.

Upon narrowly examining the great iron stanchions with whichthe beams were fixed to the rock, the writer had the satisfactionof finding that there was not the least appearance of working orshifting at any of the joints or places of connection; and,excepting the loosening of the bracing-chains, everything wasfound in the same entire state in which it had been left in themonth of October.  This, in the estimation of the writer,was a matter of no small importance to the future success of thework.  He from that moment saw the practicability andpropriety of fitting up the beacon, not only as a place of refugein case of accident to the boats in landing, but as a residencefor the artificers during the working months.

While upon the top of the beacon the writer was reminded bythe landing-master that the sea was running high, and that itwould be necessary to set off while the rock afforded anythinglike shelter to the boats, which by this time had been made fastby a long line to the beacon, and rode with much agitation, eachrequiring two men with boat-hooks to keep them from striking eachother, or from ranging up against the beacon.  But evenunder these circumstances the greatest confidence was felt byevery one, from the security afforded by this temporaryerection.  For, supposing the wind had suddenly increased toa gale, and that it had been found unadvisable to go into theboats; or, supposing they had drifted or sprung a leak fromstriking upon the rocks; in any of these possible and not at allimprobable cases, those who might thus have been left upon therock had now something to lay hold of, and, though occupying thisdreary habitation of the sea-gull and the cormorant, affordingonly bread and water, yet life, would be preserved, andthe mind would still be supported by the hope of being ultimatelyrelieved.

[Wednesday, 25th May]

On the 25th of May the writer embarked at Arbroath, on boardof the Sir Joseph Banks, for the Bell Rock, accompanied byMr. Logan senior, foreman builder, with twelve masons and twosmiths, together with thirteen seamen, including the master,mate, and steward.

[Thursday, 26th May]

Mr. James Wilson, now commander of the Pharos, floatinglight, and landing-master, in the room of Mr. Sinclair, who hadleft the service, came into the writer’s cabin this morningat six o’clock, and intimated that there was a goodappearance of landing on the rock.  Everything beingarranged, both boats proceeded in company, and at eight a.m. theyreached the rock.  The lighthouse colours were immediatelyhoisted upon the flagstaff of the beacon, a compliment which wasduly returned by the tender and floating light, when three heartycheers were given, and a glass of rum was served out to all handsto drink success to the operations of 1808.

[Friday, 27th May]

This morning the wind was at east, blowing a fresh gale, theweather being hazy, with a considerable breach of sea setting inupon the rock.  The morning bell was therefore rung, in somedoubt as to the practicability of making a landing.  Afterallowing the rock to get fully up, or to be sufficiently left bythe tide, that the boats might have some shelter from the rangeof the sea, they proceeded at 8 a.m., and upon the whole made apretty good landing; and after two hours andthree-quarters’ work returned to the ship in safety.

In the afternoon the wind considerably increased, and, as apretty heavy sea was still running, the tender rode very hard,when Mr. Taylor, the commander, found it necessary to take in thebowsprit, and strike the fore and main topmasts, that she mightride more easily.  After consulting about the state of theweather, it was resolved to leave the artificers on board thisevening, and carry only the smiths to the rock, as the sharpeningof the irons was rather behind, from their being so much brokenand blunted by the hard and tough nature of the rock, whichbecame much more compact and hard as the depth of excavation wasincreased.  Besides avoiding the risk of encumbering theboats with a number of men who had not yet got the full commandof the oar in a breach of sea, the writer had another motive forleaving them behind.  He wanted to examine the site of thebuilding without interruption, and to take the comparative levelsof the different inequalities of its area; and as it would havebeen painful to have seen men standing idle upon the Bell Rock,where all moved with activity, it was judged better to leave themon board.  The boats landed at half-past seven p.m., and thelanding-master, with the seamen, was employed during this tide incutting the seaweeds from the several paths leading to thelanding-places, to render walking more safe, for, from theslippery state of the surface of the rock, many severe tumbleshad taken place.  In the meantime the writer took thenecessary levels, and having carefully examined the site of thebuilding and considered all its parts, it still appeared to benecessary to excavate to the average depth of fourteen inchesover the whole area of the foundation.

[Saturday, 28th May]

The wind still continued from the eastward with a heavy swell;and to-day it was accompanied with foggy weather and occasionalshowers of rain.  Notwithstanding this, such was theconfidence which the erection of the beacon had inspired that theboats landed the artificers on the rock under very unpromisingcircumstances, at half-past eight, and they continued at worktill half-past eleven, being a period of three hours, which wasconsidered a great tide’s work in the present low state ofthe foundation.  Three of the masons on board were soafflicted with sea-sickness that they had not been able to takeany food for almost three days, and they were literally assistedinto the boats this morning by their companions.  It was,however, not a little surprising to see how speedily these menrevived upon landing on the rock and eating a little dulse. Two of them afterwards assisted the sailors in collecting thechips of stone and carrying them out of the way of the pickmen;but the third complained of a pain in his head, and was stillunable to do anything.  Instead of returning to the tenderwith the boats, these three men remained on the beacon all day,and had their victuals sent to them along with thesmiths’.  From Mr. Dove, the foreman smith, they hadmuch sympathy, for he preferred remaining on the beacon at allhazards, to be himself relieved from the malady ofsea-sickness.  The wind continuing high, with a heavy sea,and the tide falling late, it was not judged proper to land theartificers this evening, but in the twilight the boats were sentto fetch the people on board who had been left on the rock.

[Sunday, 29th May]

The wind was from the S.W. to-day, and the signal-bell rung,as usual, about an hour before the period for landing on therock.  The writer was rather surprised, however, to hear thelanding-master repeatedly call, ‘All hands for therock!’ and, coming on deck, he was disappointed to find theseamen only in the boats.  Upon inquiry, it appeared thatsome misunderstanding had taken place about the wages of theartificers for Sundays.  They had preferred wages for sevendays statedly to the former mode of allowing a day for eachtide’s work on Sunday, as they did not like the appearanceof working for double or even treble wages on Sunday, and wouldrather have it understood that their work on that day arose morefrom the urgency of the case than with a view to emolument. This having been judged creditable to their religious feelings,and readily adjusted to their wish, the boats proceeded to therock, and the work commenced at nine a.m.

[Monday, 30th May]

Mr. Francis Watt commenced, with five joiners, to fit up atemporary platform upon the beacon, about twenty-five feet abovethe highest part of the rock.  This platform was to be usedas the site of the smith’s forge, after the beacon shouldbe fitted up as a barrack; and here also the mortar was to bemixed and prepared for the building, and it was accordinglytermed the Mortar Gallery.

The landing-master’s crew completed the discharging fromthe Smeatonof her cargo of the cast-iron rails andtimber.  It must not here be omitted to notice that theSmeatontook in ballast from the Bell Rock, consisting ofthe shivers or chips of stone produced by the workmen inpreparing the site of the building, which were now accumulatingin great quantities on the rock.  These the boats loaded,after discharging the iron.  The object in carrying offthese chips, besides ballasting the vessel, was to get thempermanently out of the way, as they were apt to shift about fromplace to place with every gale of wind; and it often required aconsiderable time to clear the foundation a second time of thisrubbish.  The circumstance of ballasting a ship at the BellRock afforded great entertainment, especially to the sailors; andit was perhaps with truth remarked that the Smeatonwasthe first vessel that had ever taken on board ballast at the BellRock.  Mr. Pool, the commander of this vessel, afterwardsacquainted the writer that, when the ballast was landed upon thequay at Leith, many persons carried away specimens of it, as partof a cargo from the Bell Rock; when he added, that such was theinterest excited, from the number of specimens carried away, thatsome of his friends suggested that he should have sent the wholeto the Cross of Edinburgh, where each piece might have sold for apenny.

[Tuesday, 31st May]

In the evening the boats went to the rock, and brought thejoiners and smiths, and their sickly companions, on board of thetender.  These also brought with them two baskets full offish, which they had caught at high-water from the beacon,reporting, at the same time, to their comrades, that the fishwere swimming in such numbers over the rock at high-water that itwas completely hid from their sight, and nothing seen but themovement of thousands of fish.  They were almost exclusivelyof the species called the podlie, or young coal-fish.  Thisdiscovery, made for the first time to-day by the workmen, wasconsidered fortunate, as an additional circumstance likely toproduce an inclination among the artificers to take up theirresidence in the beacon, when it came to be fitted up as abarrack.

[Tuesday, 7th June]

At three o’clock in the morning the ship’s bellwas rung as the signal for landing at the rock.  When thelanding was to be made before breakfast, it was customary to giveeach of the artificers and seamen a dram and a biscuit, andcoffee was prepared by the steward for the cabins.  Exactlyat four o’clock the whole party landed from three boats,including one of those belonging to the floating light, with apart of that ship’s crew, which always attended the worksin moderate weather.  The landing-master’s boat,called the Seaman, but more commonly called theLifeboat, took the lead.  The next boat, called theMason, was generally steered by the writer; while thefloating light’s boat, Pharos, was under themanagement of the boatswain of that ship.

Having now so considerable a party of workmen and sailors onthe rock, it may be proper here to notice how their labours weredirected.  Preparations having been made last month for theerection of a second forge upon the beacon, the smiths commencedtheir operations both upon the lower and higher platforms. They were employed in sharpening the picks and irons for themasons, and in making bats and other apparatus of variousdescriptions connected with the fitting of the railways. The landing-master’s crew were occupied in assisting themillwrights in laying the railways to hand.  Sailors, of allother descriptions of men, are the most accommodating in the useof their hands.  They worked freely with the boring-irons,and assisted in all the operations of the railways, acting byturns as boatmen, seamen, and artificers.  We had no suchcharacter on the Bell Rock as the common labourer.  All theoperations of this department were cheerfully undertaken by theseamen, who, both on the rock and on shipboard, were theinseparable companions of every work connected with the erectionof the Bell Rock Lighthouse.  It will naturally be supposedthat about twenty-five masons, occupied with their picks inexecuting and preparing the foundation of the lighthouse, in thecourse of a tide of about three hours, would make a considerableimpression upon an area even of forty-two feet in diameter. But in proportion as the foundation was deepened, the rock wasfound to be much more hard and difficult to work, while thebaling and pumping of water became much more troublesome.  Ajoiner was kept almost constantly employed in fitting the picksto their handles, which, as well as the points to the irons, werevery frequently broken.

The Bell Rock this morning presented by far the most busy andactive appearance it had exhibited since the erection of theprincipal beams of the beacon.  The surface of the rock wascrowded with men, the two forges flaming, the one above theother, upon the beacon, while the anvils thundered with therebounding noise of their wooden supports, and formed a curiouscontrast with the occasional clamour of the surges.  Thewind was westerly, and the weather being extremely agreeable, assoon after breakfast as the tide had sufficiently overflowed therock to float the boats over it, the smiths, with a number of theartificers, returned to the beacon, carrying their fishing-tacklealong with them.  In the course of the forenoon, the beaconexhibited a still more extraordinary appearance than the rock haddone in the morning.  The sea being smooth, it seemed to beafloat upon the water, with a number of men supporting themselvesin all the variety of attitude and position: while, from theupper part of this wooden house, the volumes of smoke whichascended from the forges gave the whole a very curious andfanciful appearance.

In the course of this tide it was observed that a heavy swellwas setting in from the eastward, and the appearance of the skyindicated a change of weather, while the wind was shiftingabout.  The barometer also had fallen from 30 in. to29.6.  It was, therefore, judged prudent to shift the vesselto the S.W. or more distant buoy.  Her bowsprit was alsosoon afterwards taken in, the topmasts struck, and everythingmade snug, as seamen term it, for a gale.  During thecourse of the night the wind increased and shifted to theeastward, when the vessel rolled very hard, and the sea oftenbroke over her bows with great force.

[Wednesday, 8th June]

Although the motion of the tender was much less than that ofthe floating light—at least, in regard to the rollingmotion—yet she sended, or pitched, much.  Beingalso of a very handsome build, and what seamen term very cleanaft, the sea often struck the counter with such force thatthe writer, who possessed the aftermost cabin, being unaccustomedto this new vessel, could not divest himself of uneasiness; forwhen her stern fell into the sea, it struck with so much violenceas to be more like the resistance of a rock than the sea. The water, at the same time, often rushed with great force up therudder-case, and, forcing up the valve of the water-closet, thefloor of his cabin was at times laid under water.  The galecontinued to increase, and the vessel rolled and pitched in sucha manner that the hawser by which the tender was made fast to thebuoy snapped, and she went adrift.  In the act of swinginground to the wind she shipped a very heavy sea, which greatlyalarmed the artificers, who imagined that we had got upon therock; but this, from the direction of the wind, wasimpossible.  The writer, however, sprung upon deck, where hefound the sailors busily employed in rigging out the bowsprit andin setting sail.  From the easterly direction of the wind,it was considered most advisable to steer for the Firth of Forth,and there wait a change of weather.  At two p.m. weaccordingly passed the Isle of May, at six anchored in LeithRoads, and at eight the writer landed, when he came in upon hisfriends, who were not a little surprised at his unexpectedappearance, which gave an instantaneous alarm for the safety ofthings at the Bell Rock.

[Thursday, 9th June]

The wind still continued to blow very hard at E. by N., andthe Sir Joseph Banksrode heavily, and even drifted withboth anchors ahead, in Leith Roads.  The artificers did notattempt to leave the ship last night; but there being upwards offifty people on board, and the decks greatly lumbered with thetwo large boats, they were in a very crowded and impatient stateon board.  But to-day they got ashore, and amused themselvesby walking about the streets of Edinburgh, some in very humbleapparel, from having only the worst of their jackets with them,which, though quite suitable for their work, were hardly fit forpublic inspection, being not only tattered, but greatly stainedwith the red colour of the rock.

[Friday, 10th June]

To-day the wind was at S.E., with light breezes and foggyweather.  At six a.m. the writer again embarked for the BellRock, when the vessel immediately sailed.  At eleven p.m.,there being no wind, the kedge-anchor was let gooffAnstruther, one of the numerous towns on the coast of Fife, wherewe waited the return of the tide.

[Saturday, 11th June]

At six a.m. the Sir Josephgot under weigh, and ateleven was again made fast to the southern buoy at the BellRock.  Though it was now late in the tide, the writer, beinganxious to ascertain the state of things after the gale, landedwith the artificers to the number of forty-four.  Everythingwas found in an entire state; but, as the tide was nearly gone,only half an hour’s work had been got when the site of thebuilding was overflowed.  In the evening the boats againlanded at nine, and after a good tide’s work of three hourswith torchlight, the work was left off at midnight.  To thedistant shipping the appearance of things under night on the BellRock, when the work was going forward, must have been veryremarkable, especially to those who were strangers to theoperations.  Mr. John Reid, principal lightkeeper, who alsoacted as master of the floating light during the working monthsat the rock, described the appearance of numerous lights situatedso low in the water, when seen at the distance of two or threemiles, as putting him in mind of Milton’s description ofthe fiends in the lower regions, adding, ‘for it seemsgreatly to surpass Will-o’-the-Wisp, or any of thoseearthly spectres of which we have so often heard.’

[Monday, 13th June]

From the difficulties attending the landing on the rock, owingto the breach of sea which had for days past been around it, theartificers showed some backwardness at getting into the boatsthis morning; but after a little explanation this was gotover.  It was always observable that for some time afteranything like danger had occurred at the rock, the workmen becamemuch more cautious, and on some occasions their timidity wasrather troublesome.  It fortunately happened, however, thatalong with the writer’s assistants and the sailors therewere also some of the artificers themselves who felt no suchscruples, and in this way these difficulties were the more easilysurmounted.  In matters where life is in danger it becomesnecessary to treat even unfounded prejudices with tenderness, asan accident, under certain circumstances, would not only havebeen particularly painful to those giving directions, but haveproved highly detrimental to the work, especially in the earlystages of its advancement.

At four o’clock fifty-eight persons landed; but thetides being extremely languid, the water only left the higherparts of the rock, and no work could be done at the site of thebuilding.  A third forge was, however, put in operationduring a short time, for the greater conveniency of sharpeningthe picks and irons, and for purposes connected with thepreparations for fixing the railways on the rock.  Theweather towards the evening became thick and foggy, and there washardly a breath of wind to ruffle the surface of the water. Had it not, therefore, been for the noise from the anvils of thesmiths who had been left on the beacon throughout the day, whichafforded a guide for the boats, a landing could not have beenattempted this evening, especially with such a company ofartificers.  This circumstance confirmed the writer’sopinion with regard to the propriety of connecting large bells tobe rung with machinery in the lighthouse, to be tolled day andnight during the continuance of foggy weather.

[Thursday, 23rd June]

The boats landed this evening, when the artificers had againtwo hours’ work.  The weather still continuing verythick and foggy, more difficulty was experienced in getting onboard of the vessels to-night than had occurred on any previousoccasion, owing to a light breeze of wind which carried the soundof the bell, and the other signals made on board of the vessels,away from the rock.  Having fortunately made out theposition of the sloop Smeatonat the N.E. buoy—towhich we were much assisted by the barking of the ship’sdog,—we parted with the Smeaton’sboat, whenthe boats of the tender took a fresh departure for that vessel,which lay about half a mile to the south-westward.  Yet suchis the very deceiving state of the tides, that, although therewas a small binnacle and compass in the landing-master’sboat, we had, nevertheless, passed the Sir Josepha goodway, when, fortunately, one of the sailors catched the sound of ablowing-horn.  The only fire-arms on board were a pair ofswivels of one-inch calibre; but it is quite surprising how muchthe sound is lost in foggy weather, as the report was heard butat a very short distance.  The sound from the explosion ofgunpowder is so instantaneous that the effect of the small gunswas not so good as either the blowing of a horn or the tolling ofa bell, which afforded a more constant and steady direction forthe pilot.

[Wednesday, 6th July]

Landed on the rock with the three boats belonging to thetender at five p.m., and began immediately to bale the water outof the foundation-pit with a number of buckets, while the pumpswere also kept in action with relays of artificers andseamen.  The work commenced upon the higher parts of thefoundation as the water left them, but it was now prettygenerally reduced to a level.  About twenty men could beconveniently employed at each pump, and it is quite astonishingin how short a time so great a body of water could be drawnoff.  The water in the foundation-pit at this time measuredabout two feet in depth, on an area of forty-two feet indiameter, and yet it was drawn off in the course of about half anhour.  After this the artificers commenced with their picksand continued at work for two hours and a half, some of thesailors being at the same time busily employed in clearing thefoundation of chips and in conveying the irons to and from thesmiths on the beacon, where they were sharped.  At eighto’clock the sea broke in upon us and overflowed thefoundation-pit, when the boats returned to the tender.

[Thursday, 7th July]

The landing-master’s bell rung this morning about fouro’clock, and at half-past five, the foundation beingcleared, the work commenced on the site of the building. But from the moment of landing, the squad of joiners andmillwrights was at work upon the higher parts of the rock inlaying the railways, while the anvils of the smith resounded onthe beacon, and such columns of smoke ascended from the forgesthat they were often mistaken by strangers at a distance for aship on fire.  After continuing three hours at work thefoundation of the building was again overflowed, and the boatsreturned to the ship at half-past eight o’clock. the masonsand pickmen had, at this period, a pretty long day on board ofthe tender, but the smiths and joiners were kept constantly atwork upon the beacon, the stability and great conveniency ofwhich had now been so fully shown that no doubt remained as tothe propriety of fitting it up as a barrack.  The workmenwere accordingly employed, during the period of high-water, inmaking preparations for this purpose.

The foundation-pit now assumed the appearance of a greatplatform, and the late tides had been so favourable that itbecame apparent that the first course, consisting of a fewirregular and detached stones for making up certain inequalitiesin the interior parts of the site of the building, might be laidin the course of the present spring-tides.  Having beenenabled to-day to get the dimensions of the foundation, or firststone, accurately taken, a mould was made of its figure, when thewriter left the rock, after the tide’s work of thismorning, in a fast rowing-boat for Arbroath; and, upon landing,two men were immediately set to work upon one of the blocks fromMylnefield quarry, which was prepared in the course of thefollowing day, as the stone-cutters relieved each other, andworked both night and day, so that it was sent off in one of thestone-lighters without delay.

[Saturday, 9th July]

The site of the foundation-stone was very difficult to work,from its depth in the rock; but being now nearly prepared, itformed a very agreeable kind of pastime at high-water for allhands to land the stone itself upon the rock.  Thelanding-master’s crew and artificers accordingly enteredwith great spirit into this operation.  The stone was placedupon the deck of the Hedderwickpraam-boat, which had justbeen brought from Leith, and was decorated with colours for theoccasion.  Flags were also displayed from the shipping inthe offing, and upon the beacon.  Here the writer took hisstation with the greater part of the artificers, who supportedthemselves in every possible position while the boats towed thepraam from her moorings and brought her immediately over the siteof the building, where her grappling anchors were let go. The stone was then lifted off the deck by a tackle hooked into aLewis bat inserted into it, when it was gently lowered into thewater and grounded on the site of the building, amidst thecheering acclamations of about sixty persons.

[Sunday, 10th July]

At eleven o’clock the foundation-stone was laid tohand.  It was of a square form, containing about twentycubic feet, and had the figures, or date, of 1808 simply cut uponit with a chisel.  A derrick, or spar of timber, having beenerected at the edge of the hole and guyed with ropes, the stonewas then hooked to the tackle and lowered into its place, whenthe writer, attended by his assistants—Mr. Peter Logan, Mr.Francis Watt, and Mr. James Wilson,—applied the square, thelevel, and the mallet, and pronounced the following benediction:‘May the great Architect of the Universe complete and blessthis building,’ on which three hearty cheers were given,and success to the future operations was drunk with the greatestenthusiasm.

[Tuesday, 26th July]

The wind being at S.E. this evening, we had a pretty heavyswell of sea upon the rock, and some difficulty attended ourgetting off in safety, as the boats got aground in the creek andwere in danger of being upset.  Upon extinguishing thetorchlights, about twelve in number, the darkness of the nightseemed quite horrible; the water being also much charged with thephosphorescent appearance which is familiar to every one onshipboard, the waves, as they dashed upon the rock, were in somedegree like so much liquid flame.  The scene, upon thewhole, was truly awful!

[Wednesday, 27th July]

In leaving the rock this evening everything, after the torcheswere extinguished, had the same dismal appearance as last night,but so perfectly acquainted were the landing-master and his crewwith the position of things at the rock, that comparativelylittle inconveniency was experienced on these occasions when theweather was moderate; such is the effect of habit, even in themost unpleasant situations.  If, for example, it had beenproposed to a person accustomed to a city life, at once to takeup his quarters off a sunken reef and land upon it in boats atall hours of the night, the proposition must have appeared quiteimpracticable and extravagant; but this practice comingprogressively upon the artificers, it was ultimately undertakenwith the greatest alacrity.  Notwithstanding this, however,it must be acknowledged that it was not till after much labourand peril, and many an anxious hour, that the writer is enabledto state that the site of the Bell Rock Lighthouse is fullyprepared for the first entire course of the building.

[Friday, 12th Aug.]

The artificers landed this morning at half-past ten, and afteran hour and a half’s work eight stones were laid, whichcompleted the first entire course of the building, consisting of123 blocks, the last of which was laid with three heartycheers.

[Saturday, 10th Sept.]

Landed at nine a.m., and by a quarter-past twelve noontwenty-three stones had been laid.  The works being nowsomewhat elevated by the lower courses, we got quit of the veryserious inconvenience of pumping water to clear thefoundation-pit.  This gave much facility to the operations,and was noticed with expressions of as much happiness by theartificers as the seamen had shown when relieved of the continualtrouble of carrying the smith’s bellows off the rock priorto the erection of the beacon.

[Wednesday, 21st Sept.]

Mr. Thomas Macurich, mate of the Smeaton, and JamesScott, one of the crew, a young man about eighteen years of age,immediately went into their boat to make fast a hawser to thering in the top of the floating buoy of the moorings, and wereforthwith to proceed to land their cargo, so much wanted, at therock.  The tides at this period were very strong, and themooring-chain, when sweeping the ground, had caught hold of arock or piece of wreck by which the chain was so shortened thatwhen the tide flowed the buoy got almost under water, and littlemore than the ring appeared at the surface.  When Macurichand Scott were in the act of making the hawser fast to the ring,the chain got suddenly disentangled at the bottom, and this largebuoy, measuring about seven feet in height and three feet indiameter at the middle, tapering to both ends, being what seamenterm a Nun-buoy, vaulted or sprung up with such force thatit upset the boat, which instantly filled with water.  Mr.Macurich, with much exertion, succeeded in getting hold of theboat’s gunwale, still above the surface of the water, andby this means was saved; but the young man Scott wasunfortunately drowned.  He had in all probability beenstruck about the head by the ring of the buoy, for althoughsurrounded with the oars and the thwarts of the boat whichfloated near him, yet he seemed entirely to want the power ofavailing himself of such assistance, and appeared to be quiteinsensible, while Pool, the master of the Smeaton, calledloudly to him; and before assistance could be got from thetender, he was carried away by the strength of the current anddisappeared.

The young man Scott was a great favourite in the service,having had something uncommonly mild and complaisant in hismanner; and his loss was therefore universally regretted. The circumstances of his case were also peculiarly distressing tohis mother, as her husband, who was a seaman, had for three yearspast been confined to a French prison, and the deceased was thechief support of the family.  In order in some measure tomake up the loss to the poor woman for the monthly alimentregularly allowed her by her late son, it was suggested that ayounger boy, a brother of the deceased, might be taken into theservice.  This appeared to be rather a delicate proposition,but it was left to the landing-master to arrange according tocircumstances; such was the resignation, and at the same time thespirit, of the poor woman, that she readily accepted theproposal, and in a few days the younger Scott was actually afloatin the place of his brother.  On representing thisdistressing case to the Board, the Commissioners were pleased togrant an annuity of £5 to Scott’s mother.

The Smeaton, not having been made fast to the buoy,had, with the ebb-tide, drifted to leeward a considerable wayeastward of the rock, and could not, till the return of theflood-tide, be worked up to her moorings, so that the presenttide was lost, notwithstanding all exertions which had been madeboth ashore and afloat with this cargo.  The artificerslanded at six a.m.; but, as no materials could be got upon therock this morning, they were employed in boring trenail holes andin various other operations, and after four hours’ workthey returned on board the tender.  When the Smeatongot up to her moorings, the landing-master’s crewimmediately began to unload her.  There being too much windfor towing the praams in the usual way, they were warped to therock in the most laborious manner by their windlasses, withsuccessive grapplings and hawsers laid out for thispurpose.  At six p.m. the artificers landed, and continuedat work till half-past ten, when the remaining seventeen stoneswere laid which completed the third entire course, or fourth ofthe lighthouse, with which the building operations were closedfor the season.

III—OPERATIONS OF 1809

[Wednesday, 24th May]

The last night was the first that the writer, had passed inhis old quarters on board of the floating light for about twelvemonths, when the weather was so fine and the sea so smooth thateven here he felt but little or no motion, excepting at the turnof the tide, when the vessel gets into what the seamen term thetrough of the sea.  At six a.m. Mr. Watt, whoconducted the operations of the railways and beacon-house, hadlanded with nine artificers.  At half-past one p.m. Mr.Peter Logan had also landed with fifteen masons, and immediatelyproceeded to set up the crane.  The sheer-crane or apparatusfor lifting the stones out of the praam-boats at the easterncreek had been already erected, and the railways now formed abouttwo-thirds of an entire circle round the building: some progresshad likewise been made with the reach towards the westernlanding-place.  The floors being laid, the beacon nowassumed the appearance of a habitation.  The Smeatonwas at her moorings, with the Ferniepraam-boat astern,for which she was laying down moorings, and the tender being alsoat her station, the Bell Rock had again put on its former busyaspect.

[Wednesday, 31st May]

The landing-master’s bell, often no very favouritesound, rung at six this morning; but on this occasion, it isbelieved, it was gladly received by all on board, as the welcomesignal of the return of better weather.  The masons laidthirteen stones to-day, which the seamen had landed, togetherwith other building materials.  During these twenty-fourhours the wind was from the south, blowing fresh breezes,accompanied with showers of snow.  In the morning the snowshowers were so thick that it was with difficulty thelanding-master, who always steered the leading boat, could makehis way to the rock through the drift.  But at the Bell Rockneither snow nor rain, nor fog nor wind, retarded the progress ofthe work, if unaccompanied by a heavy swell or breach of thesea.

The weather during the months of April and May had beenuncommonly boisterous, and so cold that the thermometer seldomexceeded 40°, while the barometer was generally about29.50.  We had not only hail and sleet, but the snow on thelast day of May lay on the decks and rigging of the ship to thedepth of about three inches; and, although now entering upon themonth of June, the length of the day was the chief indication ofsummer.  Yet such is the effect of habit, and such was theexpertness of the landing-master’s crew, that, even in thisdescription of weather, seldom a tide’s work waslost.  Such was the ardour and zeal of the heads of theseveral departments at the rock, including Mr. Peter Logan,foreman builder, Mr. Francis Watt, foreman millwright, andCaptain Wilson, landing-master, that it was on no occasionnecessary to address them, excepting in the way of precaution orrestraint.  Under these circumstances, however, the writernot unfrequently felt considerable anxiety, of which thisday’s experience will afford an example.

[Thursday, 1st June]

This morning, at a quarter-past eight, the artificers werelanded as usual, and, after three hours and three-quarters’work, five stones were laid, the greater part of this tide havingbeen taken up in completing the boring and trenailing of thestones formerly laid.  At noon the writer, with the seamenand artificers, proceeded to the tender, leaving on the beaconthe joiners, and several of those who were troubled withsea-sickness—among whom was Mr. Logan, who remained withMr. Watt—counting altogether eleven persons.  Duringthe first and middle parts of these twenty-four hours the windwas from the east, blowing what the seamen term ‘freshbreezes’; but in the afternoon it shifted to E.N.E.,accompanied with so heavy a swell of sea that the Smeatonand tender struck their topmasts, launched in their bolt-sprits,and ‘made all snug’ for a gale.  At four p.m.the Smeatonwas obliged to slip her moorings, and passedthe tender, drifting before the wind, with only the foresailset.  In passing, Mr. Pool hailed that he must run for theFirth of Forth to prevent the vessel from ‘ridingunder.’

On board of the tender the writer’s chief concern wasabout the eleven men left upon the beacon.  Directions wereaccordingly given that everything about the vessel should be putin the best possible state, to present as little resistance tothe wind as possible, that she might have the better chance ofriding out the gale.  Among these preparations the bestbower cable was bent, so as to have a second anchor in readinessin case the mooring-hawser should give way, that every meansmight be used for keeping the vessel within sight of theprisoners on the beacon, and thereby keep them in as good spiritsas possible.  From the same motive the boats were keptafloat that they might be less in fear of the vessel leaving herstation.  The landing-master had, however, repeatedlyexpressed his anxiety for the safety of the boats, and wishedmuch to have them hoisted on board.  At seven p.m. one ofthe boats, as he feared, was unluckily filled with sea from awave breaking into her, and it was with great difficulty that shecould be baled out and got on board, with the loss of her oars,rudder, and loose thwarts.  Such was the motion of the shipthat in taking this boat on board her gunwale was stove in, andshe otherwise received considerable damage.  Nightapproached, but it was still found quite impossible to go nearthe rock.  Consulting, therefore, the safety of the secondboat, she also was hoisted on board of the tender.

At this time the cabins of the beacon were only partiallycovered, and had neither been provided with bedding nor a properfireplace, while the stock of provisions was but slender. In these uncomfortable circumstances the people on the beaconwere left for the night, nor was the situation of those on boardof the tender much better.  The rolling and pitching motionof the ship was excessive; and, excepting to those who had beenaccustomed to a residence in the floating light, it seemed quiteintolerable.  Nothing was heard but the hissing of the windsand the creaking of the bulkheads or partitions of the ship; thenight was, therefore, spent in the most unpleasant reflectionsupon the condition of the people on the beacon, especially in theprospect of the tender being driven from her moorings.  But,even in such a case, it afforded some consolation that thestability of the fabric was never doubted, and that the boats ofthe floating light were at no great distance, and ready to renderthe people on the rock the earliest assistance which the weatherwould permit.  The writer’s cabin being in thesternmost part of the ship, which had what sailors term a goodentry, or was sharp built, the sea, as before noticed, struck hercounter with so much violence that the water, with a rushingnoise, continually forced its way up the rudder-case, lifted thevalve of the water-closet, and overran the cabin floor.  Inthese circumstances daylight was eagerly looked for, and hailedwith delight, as well by those afloat as by the artificers uponthe rock.

[Friday, 2nd June]

In the course of the night the writer held repeatedconversations with the officer on watch, who reported that theweather continued much in the same state, and that the barometerstill indicated 29.20 inches.  At six a.m. thelanding-master considered the weather to have somewhat moderated;and, from certain appearances of the sky, he was of opinion thata change for the better would soon take place.  Heaccordingly proposed to attempt a landing at low-water, andeither get the people off the rock, or at least ascertain whatstate they were in.  At nine a.m. he left the vessel with aboat well manned, carrying with him a supply of cooked provisionsand a tea-kettle full of mulled port wine for the people on thebeacon, who had not had any regular diet for about thirty hours,while they were exposed during that period, in a great measure,both to the winds and the sprays of the sea.  The boathaving succeeded in landing, she returned at eleven a.m. with theartificers, who had got off with considerable difficulty, and whowere heartily welcomed by all on board.

Upon inquiry it appeared that three of the stones last laidupon the building had been partially lifted from their beds bythe force of the sea, and were now held only by the trenails, andthat the cast-iron sheer-crane had again been thrown down andcompletely broken.  With regard to the beacon, the sea athigh-water had lifted part of the mortar gallery or lowest floor,and washed away all the lime-casks and other movable articlesfrom it; but the principal parts of this fabric had sustained nodamage.  On pressing Messrs. Logan and Watt on the situationof things in the course of the night, Mr. Logan emphaticallysaid: ‘That the beacon had an ill-faured[171a] twistwhen the sea broke uponit at high-water, but that they were not very apprehensive ofdanger.’  On inquiring as to how they spent the night,it appeared that they had made shift to keep a small fireburning, and by means of some old sails defended themselvespretty well from the sea sprays.

It was particularly mentioned that by the exertions of JamesGlen, one of the joiners, a number of articles were saved frombeing washed off the mortar gallery.  Glen was also veryuseful in keeping up the spirits of the forlorn party.  Inthe early part of life he had undergone many curious adventuresat sea, which he now recounted somewhat after the manner of thetales of the Arabian Nights.  When one observed thatthe beacon was a most comfortless lodging, Glen would presentlyintroduce some of his exploits and hardships, in comparison withwhich the state of things at the beacon bore an aspect of comfortand happiness.  Looking to their slender stock ofprovisions, and their perilous and uncertain chance of speedyrelief, he would launch out into an account of one of hisexpeditions in the North Sea, when the vessel, being muchdisabled in a storm, was driven before the wind with the loss ofalmost all their provisions; and the ship being much infestedwith rats, the crew hunted these vermin with great eagerness tohelp their scanty allowance.  By such means Glen had theaddress to make his companions, in some measure, satisfied, or atleast passive, with regard to their miserable prospects upon thishalf-tide rock in the middle of the ocean.  This incident isnoticed, more particularly, to show the effects of such a happyturn of mind, even under the most distressing and ill-fatedcircumstances.

[Saturday, 17th June]

At eight a.m. the artificers and sailors, forty-five innumber, landed on the rock, and after four hours’ workseven stones were laid.  The remainder of this tide, fromthe threatening appearance of the weather, was occupied intrenailing and making all things as secure as possible.  Attwelve noon the rock and building were again overflowed, when themasons and seamen went on board of the tender, but Mr. Watt, withhis squad of ten men, remained on the beacon throughout theday.  As it blew fresh from the N.W. in the evening, it wasfound impracticable either to land the building artificers or totake the artificers off the beacon, and they were accordinglyleft there all night, but in circumstances very different fromthose of the 1st of this month.  The house, being now in amore complete state, was provided with bedding, and they spentthe night pretty well, though they complained of having been muchdisturbed at the time of high-water by the shaking and tremulousmotion of their house and by the plashing noise of the sea uponmortar gallery.  Here James Glen’s versatile powerswere again at work in cheering up those who seemed to be alarmed,and in securing everything as far as possible.  On thisoccasion he had only to recall to the recollections of some ofthem the former night which they had spent on the beacon, thewind and sea being then much higher, and their habitation in afar less comfortable state.

The wind still continuing to blow fresh from the N.W., at fivep.m. the writer caused a signal to be made from the tender forthe Smeaton and Patriotto slip their moorings, when theyran for Lunan Bay, an anchorage on the east side of theRedhead.  Those on board of the tender spent but a veryrough night, and perhaps slept less soundly than their companionson the beacon, especially as the wind was at N.W., which causedthe vessel to ride with her stern towards the Bell Rock; so that,in the event of anything giving way, she could hardly haveescaped being stranded upon it.

[Sunday, 18th June]

The weather having moderated to-day, the wind shifted to thewestward.  At a quarter-past nine a.m. the artificers landedfrom the tender and had the pleasure to find their friends whohad been left on the rock quite hearty, alleging that the beaconwas the preferable quarters of the two.

[Saturday, 24th June]

Mr. Peter Logan, the foreman builder, and his squad,twenty-one in number, landed this morning at three o’clock,and continued at work four hours and a quarter, and after layingseventeen stones returned to the tender.  At six a.m. Mr.Francis Watt and his squad of twelve men landed, and proceededwith their respective operations at the beacon and railways, andwere left on the rock during the whole day without the necessityof having any communication with the tender, the kitchen of thebeacon-house being now fitted up.  It was to-day, also, thatPeter Fortune—a most obliging and well-known character inthe Lighthouse service—was removed from the tender to thebeacon as cook and steward, with a stock of provisions as ampleas his limited store-room would admit.

When as many stones were built as comprised this day’swork, the demand for mortar was proportionally increased, and thetask of the mortar-makers on these occasions was both laboriousand severe.  This operation was chiefly performed by JohnWatt—a strong, active quarrier by profession,—who wasa perfect character in his way, and extremely zealous in hisdepartment.  While the operations of the mortar-makerscontinued, the forge upon the gallery was not generally in use;but, as the working hours of the builders extended with theheight of the building, the forge could not be so long wanted,and then a sad confusion often ensued upon the circumscribedfloor of the mortar gallery, as the operations of Watt and hisassistants trenched greatly upon those of the smiths.  Underthese circumstances the boundary of the smiths was muchcircumscribed, and they were personally annoyed, especially inblowy weather, with the dust of the lime in its powderedstate.  The mortar-makers, on the other hand, were often nota little distressed with the heat of the fire and the sparkselicited on the anvil, and not unaptly complained that they wereplaced between the ‘devil and the deep sea.’

[Sunday, 25th June]

The work being now about ten feet in height, admitted of arope-ladder being distended [174a] between thebeacon and the building.  By this ‘Jacob’sLadder,’ as the seamen termed it, a communication was keptup with the beacon while the rock was considerably underwater.  One end of it being furnished with tackle-blocks,was fixed to the beams of the beacon, at the level of the mortargallery, while the further end was connected with the uppercourse of the building by means of two Lewis bats which werelifted from course to course as the work advanced.  In thesame manner a rope furnished with a travelling pulley wasdistended for the purpose of transporting the mortar-buckets, andother light articles between the beacon and the building, whichalso proved a great conveniency to the work.  At this periodthe rope-ladder and tackle for the mortar had a descent from thebeacon to the building; by and by they were on a level, andtowards the end of the season, when the solid part had attainedits full height, the ascent was from the mortar gallery to thebuilding.

[Friday, 30th June]

The artificers landed on the rock this morning at aquarter-past six, and remained at work five hours.  Thecooking apparatus being now in full operation, all hands hadbreakfast on the beacon at the usual hour, and remained therethroughout the day.  The crane upon the building had to beraised to-day from the eighth to the ninth course, an operationwhich now required all the strength that could be mustered forworking the guy-tackles; for as the top of the crane was at thistime about thirty-five feet above the rock, it became much moreunmanageable.  While the beam was in the act of swinginground from one guy to another, a great strain was suddenlybrought upon the opposite tackle, with the end of which theartificers had very improperly neglected to take a turn roundsome stationary object, which would have given them the completecommand of the tackle.  Owing to this simple omission, thecrane got a preponderancy to one side, and fell upon the buildingwith a terrible crash.  The surrounding artificersimmediately flew in every direction to get out of its way; butMichael Wishart, the principal builder, having unluckily stumbledupon one of the uncut trenails, fell upon his back.  Hisbody fortunately got between the movable beam and the uprightshaft of the crane, and was thus saved; but his feet gotentangled with the wheels of the crane and were severelyinjured.  Wishart, being a robust young man, endured hismisfortune with wonderful firmness; he was laid upon one of thenarrow framed beds of the beacon and despatched in a boat to thetender, where the writer was when this accident happened, not alittle alarmed on missing the crane from the top of the building,and at the same time seeing a boat rowing towards the vessel withgreat speed.  When the boat came alongside with poorWishart, stretched upon a bed covered with blankets, a moment ofgreat anxiety followed, which was, however, much relieved when,on stepping into the boat, he was accosted by Wishart, though ina feeble voice, and with an aspect pale as death from excessivebleeding.  Directions having been immediately given to thecoxswain to apply to Mr. Kennedy at the workyard to procure thebest surgical aid, the boat was sent off without delay toArbroath.  The writer then landed at the rock, when thecrane was in a very short time got into its place and again putin a working state.

[Monday, 3rd July]

The writer having come to Arbroath with the yacht, had anopportunity of visiting Michael Wishart, the artificer who hadmet with so severe an accident at the rock on the 30th ult., andhad the pleasure to find him in a state of recovery.  FromDr. Stevenson’s account, under whose charge he had beenplaced, hopes were entertained that amputation would not benecessary, as his patient still kept free of fever or anyappearance of mortification; and Wishart expressed a hope that hemight, at least, be ultimately capable of keeping the light atthe Bell Rock, as it was not now likely that he would assistfurther in building the house.

[Saturday, 8th July]

It was remarked to-day, with no small demonstration of joy,that the tide, being neap, did not, for the first time, overflowthe building at high-water.  Flags were accordingly hoistedon the beacon-house, and crane on the top of the building, whichwere repeated from the floating light, Lighthouse yacht, tender,Smeaton, Patriot, and the two praams.  Asalute of three guns was also fired from the yacht at high-water,when, all the artificers being collected on the top of thebuilding, three cheers were given in testimony of this importantcircumstance.  A glass of rum was then served out to allhands on the rock and on board of the respective ships.

[Sunday, 16th July]

Besides laying, boring, trenailing, wedging, and groutingthirty-two stones, several other operations were proceeded withon the rock at low-water, when some of the artificers wereemployed at the railways, and at high-water at thebeacon-house.  The seamen having prepared a quantity oftarpaulin, or cloth laid over with successive coats of hot tar,the joiners had just completed the covering of the roof withit.  This sort of covering was lighter and more easilymanaged than sheet-lead in such a situation.  As a furtherdefence against the weather the whole exterior of this temporaryresidence was painted with three coats of white-lead paint. Between the timber framing of the habitable part of the beaconthe interstices were to be stuffed with moss, as a lightsubstance that would resist dampness and check sifting winds; thewhole interior was then to be lined with green baize cloth, sothat both without and within the cabins were to have a verycomfortable appearance.

Although the building artificers generally remained on therock throughout the day, and the millwrights, joiners, andsmiths, while their number was considerable, remained also duringthe night, yet the tender had hitherto been considered as theirnight quarters.  But the wind having in the course of theday shifted to the N.W., and as the passage to the tender, in theboats, was likely to be attended with difficulty, the whole ofthe artificers, with Mr. Logan, the foreman, preferred remainingall night on the beacon, which had of late become the solitaryabode of George-Forsyth, a jobbing upholsterer, who had beenemployed in lining the beacon-house with cloth and in fitting upthe bedding.  Forsyth was a tall, thin, and ratherloose-made man, who had an utter aversion at climbing upon thetrap-ladders of the beacon, but especially at the process ofboating, and the motion of the ship, which he said ‘wasdeath itself.’  He therefore pertinaciously insistedwith the landing-master in being left upon the beacon, with asmall black dog as his only companion.  The writer, however,felt some delicacy in leaving a single individual upon the rock,who must have been so very helpless in case of accident. This fabric had, from the beginning, been rather intended by thewriter to guard against accident from the loss or damage of aboat, and as a place for making mortar, a smith’s shop, anda store for tools during the working months, than as permanentquarters; nor was it at all meant to be possessed until tilejoiner-work was completely finished, and his own cabin, and thatfor the foreman, in readiness, when it was still to be left tothe choice of the artificers to occupy the tender or thebeacon.  He, however, considered Forsyth’s partialityand confidence in the latter as rather a fortunateoccurrence.

[Wednesday, 19th July]

The whole of the artificers, twenty-three in number, nowremoved of their own accord from the tender, to lodge in thebeacon, together with Peter Fortune, a person singularly adaptedfor a residence of this kind, both from the urbanity of hismanners and the versatility of his talents.  Fortune, in hisperson, was of small stature, and rather corpulent.  Besidesbeing a good Scots cook, he had acted both as groom andhouse-servant; he had been a soldier, a sutler, a writer’sclerk, and an apothecary, from which he possessed the art ofwriting and suggesting recipes, and had hence, also, perhaps,acquired a turn for making collections in natural history. But in his practice in surgery on the Bell Rock, for which hereceived an annual fee of three guineas, he is supposed to havebeen rather partial to the use of the lancet.  In short,Peter was the factotumof the beacon-house, where heostensibly acted in the several capacities of cook, steward,surgeon, and barber, and kept a statement of the rations orexpenditure of the provisions with the strictest integrity.

In the present important state of the building, when it hadjust attained the height of sixteen feet, and the upper courses,and especially the imperfect one, were in the wash of theheaviest seas, an express boat arrived at the rock with a letterfrom Mr. Kennedy, of the workyard, stating that in consequence ofthe intended expedition to Walcheren, an embargo had been laid onshipping at all the ports of Great Britain: that both theSmeatonand Patriotwere detained at Arbroath, andthat but for the proper view which Mr. Ramsey, the port officer,had taken of his orders, neither the express boat nor one whichhad been sent with provisions and necessaries for the floatinglight would have been permitted to leave the harbour.  Thewriter set off without delay for Arbroath, and on landing usedevery possible means with the official people, but their orderswere deemed so peremptory that even boats were not permitted tosail from any port upon the coast.  In the meantime, thecollector of the Customs at Montrose applied to the Board atEdinburgh, but could, of himself, grant no relief to the BellRock shipping.

At this critical period Mr. Adam Duff, then Sheriff ofForfarshire, now of the county of Edinburgh, and exofficioone of the Commissioners of the Northern Lighthouses,happened to be at Arbroath.  Mr. Duff took an immediateinterest in representing the circumstances of the case to theBoard of Customs at Edinburgh.  But such were the doubtsentertained on the subject that, on having previously receivedthe appeal from the collector at Montrose, the case had beensubmitted to the consideration of the Lords of the Treasury,whose decision was now waited for.

In this state of things the writer felt particularly desirousto get the thirteenth course finished, that the building might bein a more secure state in the event of bad weather.  Anopportunity was therefore embraced on the 25th, in sailing withprovisions for the floating light, to carry the necessary stonesto the rock for this purpose, which were landed and built on the26th and 27th.  But so closely was the watch kept up that aCustom-house officer was always placed on board of theSmeatonand Patriotwhile they were afloat, tillthe embargo was especially removed from the lighthousevessels.  The artificers at the Bell Rock had been reducedto fifteen, who were regularly supplied with provisions, alongwith the crew of the floating light, mainly through the portofficer’s liberal interpretation of his orders.

[Tuesday, 1st Aug.]

There being a considerable swell and breach of sea upon therock yesterday, the stones could not be got landed till the dayfollowing, when the wind shifted to the southward and the weatherimproved.  But to-day no less than seventy-eight blocks ofstone were landed, of which forty were built, which completed thefourteenth and part of the fifteenth courses.  The number ofworkmen now resident in the beacon-house was augmented totwenty-four, including the landing-master’s crew from thetender and the boat’s crew from the floating light, whoassisted at landing the stones.  Those daily at work uponthe rock at this period amounted to forty-six.  A cabin hadbeen laid out for the writer on the beacon, but his apartment hadbeen the last which was finished, and he had not yet takenpossession of it; for though he generally spent the greater partof the day, at this time, upon the rock, yet he always slept onboard of the tender.

[Friday, 11th Aug.]

The wind was at S. E. on the 11th, and there was so very heavya swell of sea upon the rock that no boat could approach it.

[Saturday, 12th Aug.]

The gale still continuing from the S.E., the sea broke withgreat violence both upon the building and the beacon.  Theformer being twenty-three feet in height, the upper part of thecrane erected on it having been lifted from course to course asthe building advanced, was now about thirty-six feet above therock.  From observations made on the rise of the sea by thiscrane, the artificers were enabled to estimate its height to beabout fifty feet above the rock, while the sprays fell with amost alarming noise upon their cabins.  At low-water, in theevening, a signal was made from the beacon, at the earnest desireof some of the artificers, for the boats to come to the rock; andalthough this could not be effected without considerable hazard,it was, however, accomplished, when twelve of their number, beingmuch afraid, applied to the foreman to be relieved, and went onboard of the tender.  But the remaining fourteen continuedon the rock, with Mr. Peter Logan, the foreman builder. Although this rule of allowing an option to every man either toremain on the rock or return to the tender was strictly adheredto, yet, as it would have been extremely inconvenient to have themen parcelled out in this manner, it became necessary to embracethe first opportunity of sending those who had left the beacon tothe workyard, with as little appearance of intention as possible,lest it should hurt their feelings, or prevent others from actingaccording to their wishes, either in landing on the rock orremaining on the beacon.

[Tuesday, 15th Aug.]

The wind had fortunately shifted to the S.W. this morning, andthough a considerable breach was still upon the rock, yet thelanding-master’s crew were enabled to get one praam-boat,lightly loaded with five stones, brought in safety to the westerncreek; these stones were immediately laid by the artificers, whogladly embraced the return of good weather to proceed with theiroperations.  The writer had this day taken possession of hiscabin in the beacon-house.  It was small, but commodious,and was found particularly convenient in coarse and blowingweather, instead of being obliged to make a passage to the tenderin an open boat at all times, both during the day and the night,which was often attended with much difficulty and danger.

[Saturday, 19th Aug.]

For some days past the weather had been occasionally so thickand foggy that no small difficulty was experienced in going evenbetween the rock and the tender, though quite at hand.  Butthe floating light’s boat lost her way so far in returningon board that the first land she made, after rowing all night,was Fifeness, a distance of about fourteen miles.  Theweather having cleared in the morning, the crew stood off againfor the floating light, and got on board in a half-famished andmuch exhausted state, having been constantly rowing for aboutsixteen hours.

[Sunday, 20th Aug.]

The weather being very favourable to-day, fifty-three stoneswere landed, and the builders were not a little gratified inhaving built the twenty-second course, consisting of fifty-onestones, being the first course which had been completed in oneday.  This, as a matter of course, produced three heartycheers.  At twelve noon prayers were read for the first timeon the Bell Rock; those present, counting thirty, were crowdedinto the upper apartment of the beacon, where the writer took acentral position, while two of the artificers, joining hands,supported the Bible.

[Friday, 25th Aug.]

To-day the artificers laid forty-five stones, which completedthe twenty-fourth course, reckoning above the first entire one,and the twenty-sixth above the rock.  This finished thesolid part of the building, and terminated the height of theoutward casing of granite, which is thirty-one feet six inchesabove the rock or site of the foundation-stone, and aboutseventeen feet above high-water of spring-tides.  Being aparticular crisis in the progress of the lighthouse, the landingand laying of the last stone for the season was observed with theusual ceremonies.

From observations often made by the writer, in so far as suchcan be ascertained, it appears that no wave in the open seas, inan unbroken state, rises more than from seven to nine feet abovethe general surface of the ocean.  The Bell Rock Lighthousemay therefore now be considered at from eight to ten feet abovethe height of the waves; and, although the sprays and heavy seashave often been observed, in the present state of the building,to rise to the height of fifty feet, and fall with a tremendousnoise on the beacon-house, yet such seas were not likely to makeany impression on a mass of solid masonry, containing about 1400tons,

[Wednesday, 30th Aug.]

The whole of the artificers left the rock at mid-day, when thetender made sail for Arbroath, which she reached about sixp.m.  The vessel being decorated with colours, and havingfired a salute of three guns on approaching the harbour, theworkyard artificers, with a multitude of people, assembled at theharbour, when mutual cheering and congratulations took placebetween those afloat and those on the quays.  The tender hadnow, with little exception, been six months on the station at theBell Rock, and during the last four months few of the squad ofbuilders had been ashore.  In particular, Mr. Peter Logan,the foreman, and Mr. Robert Selkirk, principal builder, had neveronce left the rock.  The artificers, having made good wagesduring their stay, like seamen upon a return voyage, wereextremely happy, and spent the evening with much innocent mirthand jollity.

In reflecting upon the state of the matters at the Bell Rockduring the working months, when the writer was much with theartificers, nothing can equal the happy manner in which theseexcellent workmen spent their time.  They always went fromArbroath to their arduous task cheering and they generallyreturned in the same hearty state.  While at the rock,between the tides, they amused themselves in reading, fishing,music, playing cards, draughts, etc., or in sporting with oneanother.  In the workyard at Arbroath the young men werealmost, without exception, employed in the evening at school, inwriting and arithmetic, and not a few were learning architecturaldrawing, for which they had every convenience and facility, andwere, in a very obliging manner, assisted in their studies by Mr.David Logan, clerk of the works.  It therefore affords themost pleasing reflections to look back upon the pursuits of aboutsixty individuals who for years conducted themselves, on alloccasions, in a sober and rational manner.

IV—OPERATIONS OF 1810

[Thursday, 10th May]

The wind had shifted to-day to W.N.W., when the writer, withconsiderable difficulty, was enabled to land upon the rock forthe first time this season, at ten a.m.  Upon examining thestate of the building, and apparatus in general, he had thesatisfaction to find everything in good order.  The mortarin all the joints was perfectly entire.  The building, nowthirty feet in height, was thickly coated with fucito theheight of about fifteen feet, calculating from the rock: on theeastern side, indeed, the growth of seaweed was observable to thefull height of thirty feet, and even on the top or upper bed ofthe last-laid course, especially towards the eastern side, it hadgerminated, so as to render walking upon it somewhatdifficult.

The beacon-house was in a perfectly sound state, andapparently just as it had been left in the month ofNovember.  But the tides being neap, the lower parts,particularly where the beams rested on the rock, could not now beseen.  The floor of the mortar gallery having been alreadylaid down by Mr. Watt and his men on a former visit, was merelysoaked with the sprays; but the joisting-beams which supported ithad, in the course of the winter, been covered with a fine downyconferva produced by the range of the sea.  They were also agood deal whitened with the mute of the cormorant and othersea-fowls, which had roosted upon the beacon in winter. Upon ascending to the apartments, it was found that the motion ofthe sea had thrown open the door of the cook-house: this was onlyshut with a single latch, that in case of shipwreck at the BellRock the mariner might find ready access to the shelter of thisforlorn habitation, where a supply of provisions was kept; andbeing within two miles and a half of the floating light, a signalcould readily be observed, when a boat might be sent to hisrelief as the weather permitted.  An arrangement for thispurpose formed one of the instructions on board of the floatinglight, but happily no instance occurred for putting it inpractice.  The hearth or fireplace of the cook-house wasbuilt of brick in as secure a manner as possible, to preventaccident from fire; but some of the plaster-work had shakenloose, from its damp state and the tremulous motion of the beaconin stormy weather.  The writer next ascended to the floorwhich was occupied by the cabins of himself and his assistants,which were in tolerably good order, having only a damp and mustysmell.  The barrack for the artificers, over all, was nextvisited; it had now a very dreary and deserted appearance whenits former thronged state was recollected.  In some partsthe water had come through the boarding, and had discoloured thelining of green cloth, but it was, nevertheless, in a goodhabitable condition.  While the seamen were employed inlanding a stock of provisions, a few of the artificers set towork with great eagerness to sweep and clean the severalapartments.  The exterior of the beacon was, in themeantime, examined, and found in perfect order.  Thepainting, though it had a somewhat blanched appearance, adheredfirmly both on the sides and roof, and only two or three panes ofglass were broken in the cupola, which had either been blown outby the force of the wind, or perhaps broken by sea-fowl.

Having on this occasion continued upon the building and beacona considerable time after the tide had begun to flow, theartificers were occupied in removing the forge from the top ofthe building, to which the gangway or wooden bridge gave greatfacility; and, although it stretched or had a span of forty-twofeet, its construction was extremely simple, while the road-waywas perfectly firm and steady.  In returning from this visitto the rock every one was pretty well soused in spray beforereaching the tender at two o’clock p.m., where thingsawaited the landing party in as comfortable a way as such asituation would admit.

[Friday, 11th May]

The wind was still easterly, accompanied with rather a heavyswell of sea for the operations in hand.  A landing was,however, made this morning, when the artificers were immediatelyemployed in scraping the seaweed off the upper course of thebuilding, in order to apply the moulds of the first course of thestaircase, that the joggle-holes might be marked off in the uppercourse of the solid.  This was also necessary previously tothe writer’s fixing the position of the entrance door,which was regulated chiefly by the appearance of the growth ofthe seaweed on the building, indicating the direction of theheaviest seas, on the opposite side of which the door wasplaced.  The landing-master’s crew succeeded in towinginto the creek on the western side of the rock the praam-boatwith the balance-crane, which had now been on board of the praamfor five days.  The several pieces of this machine, havingbeen conveyed along the railways upon the waggons to a positionimmediately under the bridge, were elevated to its level, orthirty feet above the rock, in the following manner.  Achain-tackle was suspended over a pulley from the cross-beamconnecting the tops of the kingposts of the bridge, which wasworked by a winch-machine with wheel, pinion, and barrel, roundwhich last the chain was wound.  This apparatus was placedon the beacon side of the bridge, at the distance of about twelvefeet from the cross-beam and pulley in the middle of thebridge.  Immediately under the cross-beam a hatch was formedin the roadway of the bridge, measuring seven feet in length andfive feet in breadth, made to shut with folding boards like adouble door, through which stones and other articles were raised;the folding doors were then let down, and the stone or load wasgently lowered upon a waggon which was wheeled on railway truckstowards the lighthouse.  In this manner the several castingsof the balance-crane were got up to the top of the solid of thebuilding.

The several apartments of the beacon-house having been cleanedout and supplied with bedding, a sufficient stock of provisionswas put into the store, when Peter Fortune, formerly noticed,lighted his fire in the beacon for the first time thisseason.  Sixteen artificers at the same time mounted totheir barrack-room, and all the foremen of the works also tookpossession of their cabin, all heartily rejoiced at getting ridof the trouble of boating and the sickly motion of thetender.

[Saturday, 12th May]

The wind was at E.N.E., blowing so fresh, and accompanied withso much sea, that no stones could be landed to-day.  Thepeople on the rock, however, were busily employed in screwingtogether the balance-crane, cutting out the joggle-holes in theupper course, and preparing all things for commencing thebuilding operations.

[Sunday, 13th May]

The weather still continues boisterous, although the barometerhas all the while stood at about 30 inches.  Towards eveningthe wind blew so fresh at E. by S. that the boats both of theSmeatonand tender were obliged to be hoisted in, and itwas feared that the Smeatonwould have to slip hermoorings.  The people on the rock were seen busily employed,and had the balance-crane apparently ready for use, but nocommunication could be had with them to-day.

[Monday, 14th May]

The wind continued to blow so fresh, and the Smeatonrode so heavily with her cargo, that at noon a signal was madefor her getting under weigh, when she stood towards Arbroath; andon board of the tender we are still without any communicationwith the people on the rock, where the sea was seen breaking overthe top of the building in great sprays, and raging with muchagitation among the beams of the beacon.

[Thursday, 17th May]

The wind, in the course of the day, had shifted from north towest; the sea being also considerably less, a boat landed on therock at six p.m., for the first time since the 11th, with theprovisions and water brought off by the Patriot.  Theinhabitants of the beacon were all well, but tired above measurefor want of employment, as the balance-crane and apparatus wasall in readiness.  Under these circumstances they felt noless desirous of the return of good weather than those afloat,who were continually tossed with the agitation of the sea. The writer, in particular, felt himself almost as much fatiguedand worn-out as he had been at any period since the commencementof the work.  The very backward state of the weather at soadvanced a period of the season unavoidably created some alarm,lest he should be overtaken with bad weather at a late period ofthe season, with the building operations in an unfinishedstate.  These apprehensions were, no doubt, rather increasedby the inconveniences of his situation afloat, as the tenderrolled and pitched excessively at times.  This being alsohis first off-set for the season, every bone of his body feltsore with preserving a sitting posture while he endeavoured topass away the time in reading; as for writing, it was whollyimpracticable.  He had several times entertained thoughts ofleaving the station for a few days and going into Arbroath withthe tender till the weather should improve; but as the artificershad been landed on the rock he was averse to this at thecommencement of the season, knowing also that he would be equallyuneasy in every situation till the first cargo was landed: and hetherefore resolved to continue at his post until this should beeffected.

[Friday, 18th May]

The wind being now N.W., the sea was considerably run down,and this morning at five o’clock the landing-master’screw, thirteen in number, left the tender; and having now nodetention with the landing of artificers, they proceeded tounmoor the Hedderwickpraam-boat, and towed her alongsideof the Smeaton: and in the course of the day twenty-threeblocks of stone, three casks of pozzolano, three of sand, threeof lime, and one of Roman cement, together with three bundles oftrenails and three of wedges, were all landed on the rock andraised the top of the building by means of the tackle suspendedfrom the cross-beam on the middle of the bridge.  The stoneswere then moved along the bridge on the waggon to the buildingwithin reach of the balance-crane, with which they were laid intheir respective places on the building.  The masonsimmediately thereafter proceeded to bore the trenail-holes intothe course below, and otherwise to complete the one inhand.  When the first stone was to be suspended by thebalance-crane, the bell on the beacon was rung, and all theartificers and seamen were collected on the building.  Threehearty cheers were given while it was lowered into its place, andthe steward served round a glass of rum, when success was drunkto the further progress of the building.

[Sunday, 20th May]

The wind was southerly to-day, but there was much less seathan yesterday, and the landing-master’s crew were enabledto discharge and land twenty-three pieces of stone and otherarticles for the work.  The artificers had completed thelaying of the twenty-seventh or first course of the staircasethis morning, and in the evening they finished the boring,trenailing, wedging, and grouting it with mortar.  At twelveo’clock noon the beacon-house bell was rung, and all handswere collected on the top of the building, where prayers wereread for the first time on the lighthouse, which forcibly struckevery one, and had, upon the whole, a very impressive effect.

From the hazardous situation of the beacon-house with regardto fire, being composed wholly of timber, there was no small riskfrom accident: and on this account one of the most steady of theartificers was appointed to see that the fire of thecooking-house, and the lights in general, were carefullyextinguished at stated hours.

[Monday, 4th June]

This being the birthday of our much-revered Sovereign KingGeorge iii, now in the fiftieth yearof his reign, the shipping of the Lighthouse service were thismorning decorated with colours according to the taste of theirrespective captains.  Flags were also hoisted upon thebeacon-house and balance-crane on the top of the building. At twelve noon a salute was fired from the tender, when theKing’s health was drunk, with all the honours, both on therock and on board of the shipping.

[Tuesday, 5th June]

As the lighthouse advanced in height, the cubical contents ofthe stones were less, but they had to be raised to a greaterheight; and the walls, being thinner, were less commodious forthe necessary machinery and the artificers employed, whichconsiderably retarded the work.  Inconvenience was alsooccasionally experienced from the men dropping their coats, hats,mallets, and other tools, at high-water, which were carried awayby the tide; and the danger to the people themselves was nowgreatly increased.  Had any of them fallen from the beaconor building at high-water, while the landing-master’s crewwere generally engaged with the craft at a distance, it must haverendered the accident doubly painful to those on the rock, who atthis time had no boat, and consequently no means of renderingimmediate and prompt assistance.  In such cases it wouldhave been too late to have got a boat by signal from thetender.  A small boat, which could be lowered at pleasure,was therefore suspended by a pair of davits projected from thecook-house, the keel being about thirty feet from the rock. This boat, with its tackle was put under the charge of JamesGlen, of whose exertions on the beacon mention has already beenmade, and who, having in early life been a seaman, was also veryexpert in the management of a boat.  A life-buoy waslikewise suspended from the bridge, to which a coil of line twohundred fathoms in length was attached, which could be let out toa person falling into the water, or to the people in the boat,should they not be able to work her with the oars.

[Tuesday, 7th June]

To-day twelve stones were landed on the rock, being theremainder of the Patriot’scargo; and the artificersbuilt the thirty-ninth course, consisting of fourteenstones.  The Bell Rock works had now a very busy appearance,as the lighthouse was daily getting more into form.  Besidesthe artificers and their cook, the writer and his servant werealso lodged on the beacon, counting in all twenty-nine; and atlow-water the landing-master’s crew, consisting of fromtwelve to fifteen seamen, were employed in transporting thebuilding materials, working the landing apparatus on the rock,and dragging the stone waggons along the railways.

[Friday, 8th June]

In the course of this day the weather varied much.  Inthe morning it was calm, in the middle part of the day there werelight airs of wind from the south, and in the evening freshbreezes from the east.  The barometer in the writer’scabin in the beacon-house oscillated from 30 inches to 30.42, andthe weather was extremely pleasant.  This, in any situation,forms one of the chief comforts of life; but, as may easily beconceived, it was doubly so to people stuck, as it were, upon apinnacle in the middle of the ocean.

[Sunday, 10th June]

One of the praam-boats had been brought to the rock witheleven stones, notwithstanding the perplexity which attended thegetting of those formerly landed taken up to the building. Mr. Peter Logan, the foreman builder, interposed, and preventedthis cargo from being delivered; but the landing-master’screw were exceedingly averse to this arrangement, from an ideathat “ill luck” would in future attend the praam, hercargo, and those who navigated her, from thus reversing hervoyage.  It may be noticed that this was the first instanceof a praam-boat having been sent from the Bell Rock with any partof her cargo on board, and was considered so uncommon anoccurrence that it became a topic of conversation among theseamen and artificers.

[Tuesday, 12th June]

To-day the stones formerly sent from the rock were safelylanded, notwithstanding the augury of the seamen in consequenceof their being sent away two days before.

[Thursday, 14th June]

To-day twenty-seven stones and eleven joggle-pieces werelanded, part of which consisted of the forty-seventh course,forming the storeroom floor.  The builders were at work thismorning by four o’clock, in the hopes of being able toaccomplish the laying of the eighteen stones of thiscourse.  But at eight o’clock in the evening they hadstill two to lay, and as the stones of this course were veryunwieldy, being six feet in length, they required much precautionand care both in lifting and laying them.  It was only onthe writer’s suggestion to Mr. Logan that the artificerswere induced to leave off, as they had intended to complete thisfloor before going to bed.  The two remaining stones were,however, laid in their places without mortar when the bell on thebeacon was rung, and, all hands being collected on the top of thebuilding, three hearty cheers were given on covering the firstapartment.  The steward then served out a dram to each, whenthe whole retired to their barrack much fatigued, but with theanticipation of the most perfect repose even in the“hurricane-house,” amidst the dashing seas on theBell Rock.

While the workmen were at breakfast and dinner it was thewriter’s usual practice to spend his time on the walls ofthe building, which, notwithstanding the narrowness of the track,nevertheless formed his principal walk when the rock was underwater.  But this afternoon he had his writing-desk set uponthe storeroom floor, when he wrote to Mrs.Stevenson—certainly the first letter dated from the BellRock Lighthouse—giving a detail of the fortunateprogress of the work with an assurance that the lighthouse wouldsoon be completed at the rate at which it now proceeded; and, thePatriothaving sailed for Arbroath in the evening, he feltno small degree of pleasure in despatching this communication tohis family.

The weather still continuing favourable for the operations atthe rock, the work proceeded with much energy, through theexertions both of the seamen and artificers.  For the morespeedy and effectual working of the several tackles in raisingthe materials as the building advanced in height, and there beinga great extent of railway to attend to, which required constantrepairs, two additional millwrights were added to the complementon the rock, which, including the writer, now counted thirty-onein all.  So crowded was the men’s barrack that thebeds were ranged five tier in height, allowing only about onefoot eight inches for each bed.  The artificers commencedthis morning at five o’clock, and, in the course of theday, they laid the forty-eighth and forty-ninth courses,consisting each of sixteen blocks.  From the favourablestate of the weather, and the regular manner in which the worknow proceeded, the artificers had generally from four to sevenextra hours’ work, which, including their stated wages of3s. 4d., yielded them from 5s. 4d. to about 6s. 10d. per daybesides their board; even the postage of their letters was paidwhile they were at the Bell Rock.  In these advantages theforemen also shared, having about double the pay and amount ofpremiums of the artificers.  The seamen being less out oftheir element in the Bell Rock operations than the landsmen,their premiums consisted in a slump sum payable at the end of theseason, which extended from three to ten guineas.

As the laying of the floors was somewhat tedious, thelanding-master and his crew had got considerably beforehand withthe building artificers in bringing materials faster to the rockthan they could be built.  The seamen having, therefore,some spare time, were occasionally employed during fine weatherin dredging or grappling for the several mushroom anchors andmooring-chains which had been lost in the vicinity of the BellRock during the progress of the work by the breaking loose anddrifting of the floating buoys.  To encourage theirexertions in this search, five guineas were offered as a premiumfor each set they should find; and, after much patientapplication, they succeeded to-day in hooking one of these lostanchors with its chain.

It was a general remark at the Bell Rock, as before noticed,that fish were never plenty in its neighbourhood excepting ingood weather.  Indeed, the seamen used to speculate aboutthe state of the weather from their success in fishing. When the fish disappeared at the rock, it was considered a sureindication that a gale was not far off, as the fish seemed toseek shelter in deeper water from the roughness of the sea duringthese changes in the weather.  At this time the rock, athigh-water, was completely covered with podlies, or the fry ofthe coal-fish, about six or eight inches in length.  Theartificers sometimes occupied half an hour after breakfast anddinner in catching these little fishes, but were more frequentlysupplied from the boats of the tender.

[Saturday, 16th June]

The landing-master having this day discharged theSmeatonand loaded the Hedderwick and Dickiepraam-boats with nineteen stones, they were towed to theirrespective moorings, when Captain Wilson, in consequence of theheavy swell of sea, came in his boat to the beacon-house toconsult with the writer as to the propriety of venturing theloaded praam-boats with their cargoes to the rock while so muchsea was running.  After some dubiety expressed on thesubject, in which the ardent mind of the landing-master suggestedmany arguments in favour of his being able to convey the praamsin perfect safety, it was acceded to.  In bad weather, andespecially on occasions of difficulty like the present, Mr.Wilson, who was an extremely active seaman, measuring about fivefeet three inches in height, of a robust habit, generally dressedhimself in what he called a monkey jacket, made of thickduffle cloth, with a pair of Dutchman’s petticoat trousers,reaching only to his knees, where they were met with a pair oflong water-tight boots; with this dress, his glazed hat, and hissmall brass speaking trumpet in his hand, he bade defiance to theweather.  When he made his appearance in this most suitableattire for the service his crew seemed to possess additionallife, never failing to use their utmost exertions when thecaptain put on his storm rigging.  They had thismorning commenced loading the praam-boats at four o’clock,and proceeded to tow them into the eastern landing-place, whichwas accomplished with much dexterity, though not without the riskof being thrown, by the force of the sea, on certain projectingledges of the rock.  In such a case the loss even of asingle stone would have greatly retarded the work.  For thegreater safety in entering the creek it was necessary to put outseveral warps and guy-ropes to guide the boats into its narrowand intricate entrance; and it frequently happened that the seamade a clean breach over the praams, which not only washed theirdecks, but completely drenched the crew in water.

[Sunday, 17th June]

It was fortunate, in the present state of the weather, thatthe fiftieth course was in a sheltered spot, within the reach ofthe tackle of the winch-machine upon the bridge; a few stoneswere stowed upon the bridge itself, and the remainder upon thebuilding, which kept the artificers at work.  The stowing ofthe materials upon the rock was the department of AlexanderBrebner, mason, who spared no pains in attending to the safety ofthe stones, and who, in the present state of the work, when thestones were landed faster than could be built, generally workedtill the water rose to his middle.  At one o’clockto-day the bell rung for prayers, and all hands were collectedinto the upper barrack-room of the beacon-house, when the usualservice was performed.

The wind blew very hard in the course of last night from N.E.,and to-day the sea ran so high that no boat could approach therock.  During the dinner-hour, when the writer was going tothe top of the building as usual, but just as he had entered thedoor and was about to ascend the ladder, a great noise was heardoverhead, and in an instant he was soused in water from a seawhich had most unexpectedly come over the walls, though now aboutfifty-eight feet in height.  On making his retreat he foundhimself completely whitened by the lime, which had mixed with thewater while dashing down through the different floors; and, asnearly as he could guess, a quantity equal to about a hogsheadhad come over the walls, and now streamed out at the door. After having shifted himself, he again sat down in his cabin, thesea continuing to run so high that the builders did not resumetheir operations on the walls this afternoon.  The incidentjust noticed did not create more surprise in the mind of thewriter than the sublime appearance of the waves as they rolledmajestically over the rock.  This scene he greatly enjoyedwhile sitting at his cabin window; each wave approached thebeacon like a vast scroll unfolding; and in passing discharged aquantity of air, which he not only distinctly felt, but was evensufficient to lift the leaves of a book which lay beforehim.  These waves might be ten or twelve feet in height, andabout 250 feet in length, their smaller end being towards thenorth, where the water was deep, and they were opened or cutthrough by the interposition of the building and beacon. The gradual manner in which the sea, upon these occasions, isobserved to become calm or to subside, is a very remarkablefeature of this phenomenon.  For example, when a gale issucceeded by a calm, every third or fourth wave forms one ofthese great seas, which occur in spaces of from three to fiveminutes, as noted by the writer’s watch; but in the courseof the next tide they become less frequent, and take off so as tooccur only in ten or fifteen minutes; and, singular enough, atthe third tide after such gales, the writer has remarked thatonly one or two of these great waves appear in the course of thewhole tide.

[Tuesday, 19th June]

The 19th was a very unpleasant and disagreeable day, both forthe seamen and artificers, as it rained throughout with littleintermission from four a.m. till eleven p.m., accompanied withthunder and lightning, during which period the work neverthelesscontinued unremittingly, and the builders laid the fifty-firstand fifty-second courses.  This state of weather was no lesssevere upon the mortar-makers, who required to temper or preparethe mortar of a thicker or thinner consistency, in some measure,according to the state of the weather.  From the elevatedposition of the building, the mortar gallery on the beacon wasnow much lower, and the lime-buckets were made to traverse upon arope distended between it and the building.  On occasionslike the present, however, there was often a difference ofopinion between the builders and the mortar-makers.  JohnWatt, who had the principal charge of the mortar, was a mostactive worker, but, being somewhat of an irascible temper, thebuilders occasionally amused themselves at his expense; for whilehe was eagerly at work with his large iron-shod pestle in themortar-tub, they often sent down contradictory orders, somecrying, ‘Make it a little stiffer, or thicker, John,’while others called out to make it ‘thinner,’ towhich he generally returned very speedy and sharp replies, sothat these conversations at times were rather amusing.

During wet weather the situation of the artificers on the topof the building was extremely disagreeable; for although theirwork did not require great exertion, yet, as each man had hisparticular part to perform, either in working the crane or inlaying the stones, it required the closest application andattention, not only on the part of Mr. Peter Logan, the foreman,who was constantly on the walls, but also of the chiefworkmen.  Robert Selkirk, the principal builder, forexample, had every stone to lay in its place.  DavidCumming, a mason, had the charge of working the tackle of thebalance-weight, and James Scott, also a mason, took charge of thepurchase with which the stones were laid; while the pointing thejoints of the walls with cement was intrusted to William Reid andWilliam Kennedy, who stood upon a scaffold suspended over thewalls in rather a frightful manner.  The least act ofcarelessness or inattention on the part of any of these men mighthave been fatal, not only to themselves, but also to thesurrounding workmen, especially if any accident had happened tothe crane itself, while the material damage or loss of a singlestone would have put an entire stop to the operations untilanother could have been brought from Arbroath.  Theartificers, having wrought seven and a half hours of extra timeto-day, had 3s. 9d. of extra pay, while the foremen had 7s. 6d.over and above their stated pay and board.  Although,therefore, the work was both hazardous and fatiguing, yet, theencouragement being considerable, they were always very cheerful,and perfectly reconciled to the confinement and otherdisadvantages of the place.

During fine weather, and while the nights were short, the dutyon board of the floating light was literally nothing but awaiting on, and therefore one of her boats, with a crew of fivemen, daily attended the rock, but always returned to the vesselat night.  The carpenter, however, was one of those who wasleft on board of the ship, as he also acted in the capacity ofassistant lightkeeper, being, besides, a person who was apt tofeel discontent and to be averse to changing his quarters,especially to work with the millwrights and joiners at the rock,who often, for hours together, wrought knee-deep, and notunfrequently up to the middle, in water.  Mr. Watt havingabout this time made a requisition for another hand, thecarpenter was ordered to attend the rock in the floatinglight’s boat.  This he did with great reluctance, andfound so much fault that he soon got into discredit with hismessmates.  On this occasion he left the Lighthouse service,and went as a sailor in a vessel bound for America—a stepwhich, it is believed, he soon regretted, as, in the course ofthings, he would, in all probability, have accompanied Mr. JohnReid, the principal lightkeeper of the floating light, to theBell Rock Lighthouse as his principal assistant.  The writerhad a wish to be of service to this man, as he was one of thosewho came off to the floating light in the month of September1807, while she was riding at single anchor after the severe galeof the 7th, at a time when it was hardly possible to make up thisvessel’s crew; but the crossness of his manner preventedhis reaping the benefit of such intentions.

[Friday, 22nd June]

The building operations had for some time proceeded moreslowly, from the higher parts of the lighthouse requiring muchlonger time than an equal tonnage of the lower courses.  Theduty of the landing-master’s crew had, upon the whole, beeneasy of late; for though the work was occasionally irregular, yetthe stones being lighter, they were more speedily lifted from thehold of the stone vessel to the deck of the praam-boat, and againto the waggons on the railway, after which they came properlyunder the charge of the foreman builder.  It is, however, astrange, though not an uncommon, feature in the human character,that, when people have least to complain of, they are most apt tobecome dissatisfied, as was now the case with the seamen employedin the Bell Rock service about their rations of beer. Indeed, ever since the carpenter of the floating light, formerlynoticed, had been brought to the rock, expressions of discontenthad been manifested upon various occasions.  This beingrepresented to the writer, he sent for Captain Wilson, thelanding-master, and Mr. Taylor, commander of the tender, withwhom he talked over the subject.  They stated that theyconsidered the daily allowance of the seamen in every respectample, and that, the work being now much lighter than formerly,they had no just ground for complaint; Mr. Taylor adding that, ifthose who now complained ‘were even to be fed upon softbread and turkeys, they would not think themselvesright.’  At twelve noon the work of thelanding-master’s crew was completed for the day; but atfour o’clock, while the rock was under water, those on thebeacon were surprised by the arrival of a boat from the tenderwithout any signal having been made from the beacon.  Itbrought the following note to the writer from thelanding-master’s crew:—

‘Sir JosephBanks Tender.

‘Sir,—We are informedby our masters that our allowance is to be as before, and it isnot sufficient to serve us, for we have been at work since fouro’clock this morning, and we have come on board to dinner,and there is no beer for us before to-morrow morning, to which asufficient answer is required before we go from the beacon; andwe are, Sir, your most obedient servants.’

On reading this, the writer returned a verbal message,intimating that an answer would be sent on board of the tender,at the same time ordering the boat instantly to quit thebeacon.  He then addressed the following note to thelanding-master:—

‘Beacon-house, 22ndJune1810,
Five o’clock p.m.

‘Sir,—I have just nowreceived a letter purporting to be from thelanding-master’s crew and seamen on board of the SirJoseph Banks, though without either date or signature; inanswer to which I enclose a statement of the daily allowance ofprovisions for the seamen in this service, which you will post upin the ship’s galley, and at seven o’clock thisevening I will come on board to inquire into this unexpected andmost unnecessary demand for an additional allowance ofbeer.  In the enclosed you will not find any alteration fromthe original statement, fixed in the galley at the beginning ofthe season.  I have, however, judged this mode of givingyour people an answer preferable to that of conversing with themon the beacon. —I am, Sir, your most obedient servant,

RobertStevenson.

‘To CaptainWilson.’

‘Beacon House, 22ndJune1810.—Schedule of the daily allowance of provisions to beserved out on board of the Sir Joseph Bankstender:“1½ lb. beef; 1 lb. bread; 8 oz. oatmeal; 2 oz.barley; 2 oz. butter; 3 quarts beer; vegetables and salt nostated allowance.  When the seamen are employed in unloadingthe Smeatonand Patriot, a draught of beer is, asformerly, to be allowed from the stock of these vessels. Further, in wet and stormy weather, or when the work commencesvery early in the morning, or continues till a late hour atnight, a glass of spirits will also be served out to the crew asheretofore, on the requisition of the landing-master.”

RobertStevenson.’

On writing this letter and schedule, a signal was made on thebeacon for the landing-master’s boat, which immediatelycame to the rock, and the schedule was afterwards stuck up in thetender’s galley.  When sufficient time had beenallowed to the crew to consider of their conduct, a second signalwas made for a boat, and at seven o’clock the writer leftthe Bell Rock, after a residence of four successive weeks in thebeacon-house.  The first thing which occupied his attentionon board of the tender was to look round upon the lighthouse,which he saw, with some degree of emotion and surprise, now vyingin height with the beacon-house; for although he had often viewedit from the extremity of the western railway on the rock, yet thescene, upon the whole, seemed far more interesting from thetender’s moorings at the distance of about half a mile.

The Smeatonhaving just arrived at her moorings with acargo, a signal was made for Captain Pool to come on board of thetender, that he might be at hand to remove from the service anyof those who might persist in their discontented conduct. One of the two principal leaders in this affair, the master ofone of the praam-boats, who had also steered the boat whichbrought the letter to the beacon, was first called upon deck, andasked if he had read the statement fixed up in the galley thisafternoon, and whether he was satisfied with it.  He repliedthat he had read the paper, but was not satisfied, as it held outno alteration in the allowance, on which he was immediatelyordered into the Smeaton’sboat.  The next mancalled had but lately entered the service, and, being alsointerrogated as to his resolution, he declared himself to be ofthe same mind with the praam-master, and was also forthwithordered into the boat.  The writer, without calling any moreof the seamen, went forward to the gangway, where they werecollected and listening to what was passing upon deck.  Headdressed them at the hatchway, and stated that two of theircompanions had just been dismissed the service and sent on boardof the Smeatonto be conveyed to Arbroath.  Hetherefore wished each man to consider for himself how far itwould be proper, by any unreasonableness of conduct, to placethemselves in a similar situation, especially as they were awarethat it was optional in him either to dismiss them or send themon board a man-of-war.  It might appear that muchinconveniency would be felt at the rock by a change of hands atthis critical period, by checking for a time the progress of abuilding so intimately connected with the best interests ofnavigation; yet this would be but of a temporary nature, whilethe injury to themselves might be irreparable.  It was nowtherefore, required of any man who, in this disgraceful manner,chose to leave the service, that he should instantly make hisappearance on deck while the Smeaton’sboat wasalongside.  But those below having expressed themselvessatisfied with their situation-viz., William Brown, George Gibb,Alexander Scott, John Dick, Robert Couper, Alexander Shephard,James Grieve, David Carey, William Pearson, Stuart Eaton,Alexander Lawrence, and John Spink—were accordinglyconsidered as having returned to their duty.  Thisdisposition to mutiny, which had so strongly manifested itself,being now happily suppressed, Captain Pool got orders to proceedfor Arbroath Bay, and land the two men he had on board, and todeliver the following letter at the office of theworkyard:—

‘On board ofthe Tender off the Bell Rock,
22ndJune1810, eight o’clock p.m.

‘Dear Sir,—Adiscontented and mutinous spirit having manifested itself of lateamong the landing-master’s crew, they struck work to-dayand demanded an additional allowance of beer, and I have found itnecessary to dismiss D---d and M---e, who are now sent on shorewith the Smeaton.  You will therefore be so good asto pay them their wages, including this day only.  Nothingcan be more unreasonable than the conduct of the seamen on thisoccasion, as the landing-master’s crew not only had theirallowance on board of the tender, but, in the course of this day,they had drawn no fewer than twenty-four quart pots of beer fromthe stock of the Patriotwhile unloading her. —Iremain, yours truly,

RobertStevenson.

‘To Mr. Lachlan Kennedy,
      Bell Rock Office,Arbroath.’

On despatching this letter to Mr. Kennedy, the writer returnedto the beacon about nine o’clock, where thisafternoon’s business had produced many conjectures,especially when the Smeatongot under weigh, instead ofproceeding to land her cargo.  The bell on the beacon beingrung, the artificers were assembled on the bridge, when theaffair was explained to them.  He, at the same time,congratulated them upon the first appearance of mutiny beinghappily set at rest by the dismissal of its two principalabettors.

[Sunday, 24th June]

At the rock the landing of the materials and the buildingoperations of the light-room store went on successfully, and in away similar to those of the provision store.  To-day it blewfresh breezes; but the seamen nevertheless landed twenty-eightstones, and the artificers built the fifty-eighth and fifty-ninthcourses.  The works were visited by Mr. Murdoch, junior,from Messrs. Boulton and Watt’s works of Soho.  Helanded just as the bell rung for prayers, after which the writerenjoyed much pleasure from his very intelligent conversation;and, having been almost the only stranger he had seen for someweeks, he parted with him, after a short interview, with muchregret.

[Thursday, 28th June]

Last night the wind had shifted to north-east, and, blowingfresh, was accompanied with a heavy surf upon the rock. Towards high-water it had a very grand and wonderfulappearance.  Waves of considerable magnitude rose as high asthe solid or level of the entrance-door, which, being open to thesouth-west, was fortunately to the leeward; but on the windwardside the sprays flew like lightning up the sloping sides of thebuilding; and although the walls were now elevated sixty-fourfeet above the rock, and about fifty-two feet from high-watermark, yet the artificers were nevertheless wetted, andoccasionally interrupted, in their operations on the top of thewalls.  These appearances were, in a great measure, new atthe Bell Rock, there having till of late been no building toconduct the seas, or object to compare with them.  Although,from the description of the Eddystone Lighthouse, the mind wasprepared for such effects, yet they were not expected to thepresent extent in the summer season; the sea being most awfulto-day, whether observed from the beacon or the building. To windward, the sprays fell from the height above noticed in themost wonderful cascades, and streamed down the walls of thebuilding in froth as white as snow.  To leeward of thelighthouse the collision or meeting of the waves produced a purewhite kind of drift; it rose about thirty feet in height,like a fine downy mist, which, in its fall, fell upon the faceand hands more like a dry powder than a liquid substance. The effect of these seas, as they raged among the beams anddashed upon the higher parts of the beacon, produced a temporarytremulous motion throughout the whole fabric, which to a strangermust have been frightful.

[Sunday, 1st July]

The writer had now been at the Bell Rock since the latter endof May, or about six weeks, during four of which he had been aconstant inhabitant of the beacon without having been once offthe rock.  After witnessing the laying of the sixty-seventhor second course of the bedroom apartment, he left the rock withthe tender and went ashore, as some arrangements were to be madefor the future conduct of the works at Arbroath, which were soonto be brought to a close; the landing-master’s crew having,in the meantime, shifted on board of the Patriot.  Inleaving the rock, the writer kept his eyes fixed upon thelighthouse, which had recently got into the form of a house,having several tiers or stories of windows.  Nor was heunmindful of his habitation in the beacon—now farovertopped by the masonry,—where he had spent several weeksin a kind of active retirement, making practical experiment ofthe fewness of the positive wants of man.  His cabinmeasured not more than four feet three inches in breadth on thefloor; and though, from the oblique direction of the beams of thebeacon, it widened towards the top, yet it did not admit of thefull extension of his arms when he stood on the floor; while itslength was little more than sufficient for suspending a cot-bedduring the night, calculated for being triced up to the roofthrough the day, which left free room for the admission ofoccasional visitants.  His folding table was attached withhinges, immediately under the small window of the apartment, andhis books, barometer, thermometer, portmanteau, and two or threecamp-stools, formed the bulk of his movables.  His dietbeing plain, the paraphernalia of the table were proportionallysimple; though everything had the appearance of comfort, and evenof neatness, the walls being covered with green cloth formed intopanels with red tape, and his bed festooned with curtains ofyellow cotton-stuff.  If, in speculating upon the abstractwants of man in such a state of exclusion, one were reduced to asingle book, the Sacred Volume—whether considered for thestriking diversity of its story, the morality of its doctrine, orthe important truths of its gospel—would have proved by farthe greatest treasure.

[Monday, 2nd July]

In walking over the workyard at Arbroath this morning, thewriter found that the stones of the course immediately under thecornice were all in hand, and that a week’s work would nowfinish the whole, while the intermediate courses lay readynumbered and marked for shipping to the rock.  Among othersubjects which had occupied his attention to-day was a visit fromsome of the relations of George Dall, a young man who had beenimpressed near Dundee in the month of February last; a disputehad arisen between the magistrates of that burgh and theRegulating Officer as to his right of impressing Dall, who wasbonâ fideone of the protected seamen in the BellRock service.  In the meantime, the poor lad was detained,and ultimately committed to the prison of Dundee, to remain untilthe question should be tried before the Court of Session. His friends were naturally very desirous to have him relievedupon bail.  But, as this was only to be done by the judgmentof the Court, all that could be said was that his pay andallowances should be continued in the same manner as if he hadbeen upon the sick-list.  The circumstances of Dall’scase were briefly these:—He had gone to see some of hisfriends in the neighbourhood of Dundee, in winter, while theworks were suspended, having got leave of absence from Mr.Taylor, who commanded the Bell Rock tender, and had in hispossession one of the Protection Medals.  Unfortunately,however, for Dall, the Regulating Officer thought proper todisregard these documents, as, according to the strict andliteral interpretation of the Admiralty regulations, a seamandoes not stand protected unless he is actually on board of hisship, or in a boat belonging to her, or has the Admiraltyprotection in his possession.  This order of the Board,however, cannot be rigidly followed in practice; and therefore,when the matter is satisfactorily stated to the RegulatingOfficer, the impressed man is generally liberated.  But inDall’s case this was peremptorily refused, and he wasretained at the instance of the magistrates.  The writerhaving brought the matter under the consideration of theCommissioners of the Northern Lighthouses, they authorised it tobe tried on the part of the Lighthouse Board, as one of extremehardship.  The Court, upon the first hearing, ordered Dallto be liberated from prison; and the proceedings never wentfurther.

[Wednesday, 4th July]

Being now within twelve courses of being ready for buildingthe cornice, measures were taken for getting the stones of it andthe parapet-wall of the light-room brought from Edinburgh, where,as before noticed, they had been prepared and were in readinessfor shipping.  The honour of conveying the upper part of thelighthouse, and of landing the last stone of the building on therock, was considered to belong to Captain Pool of theSmeaton, who had been longer in the service than themaster of the Patriot.  The Smeatonwas,therefore, now partly loaded with old iron, consisting of brokenrailways and other lumber which had been lying about therock.  After landing these at Arbroath, she took on boardJames Craw, with his horse and cart, which could now be spared atthe workyard, to be employed in carting the stones from Edinburghto Leith.  Alexander Davidson and William Kennedy, twocareful masons, were also sent to take charge of the loading ofthe stones at Greenside, and stowing them on board of the vesselat Leith.  The writer also went on board, with a view tocall at the Bell Rock and to take his passage up the Firth ofForth.  The wind, however, coming to blow very fresh fromthe eastward, with thick and foggy weather, it became necessaryto reef the mainsail and set the second jib.  When in theact of making a tack towards the tender, the sailors who workedthe head-sheets were, all of a sudden, alarmed with the sound ofthe smith’s hammer and anvil on the beacon, and had justtime to put the ship about to save her from running ashore on thenorthwestern point of the rock, marked ‘James Craw’sHorse.’  On looking towards the direction from whencethe sound came, the building and beacon-house were seen, withconsternation, while the ship was hailed by those on the rock,who were no less confounded at seeing the near approach of theSmeaton; and, just as the vessel cleared the danger, thesmith and those in the mortar gallery made signs in token oftheir happiness at our fortunate escape.  From thisoccurrence the writer had an experimental proof of the utility ofthe large bells which were in preparation to be rung by themachinery of the revolving light; for, had it not been the soundof the smith’s anvil, the Smeaton, in allprobability, would have been wrecked upon the rock.  In casethe vessel had struck, those on board might have been safe,having now the beacon-house, as a place of refuge; but thevessel, which was going at a great velocity, must have sufferedseverely, and it was more than probable that the horse would havebeen drowned, there being no means of getting him out of thevessel.  Of this valuable animal and his master we shalltake an opportunity of saying more in another place.

[Thursday, 5th July]

The weather cleared up in the course of the night, but thewind shifted to the N.E. and blew very fresh.  From theforce of the wind, being now the period of spring-tides, a veryheavy swell was experienced at the rock.  At twoo’clock on the following morning the people on the beaconwere in a state of great alarm about their safety, as the sea hadbroke up part of the floor of the mortar gallery!, which was thuscleared of the lime-casks and other buoyant articles; and, thealarm-bell being rung, all hands were called to render whatassistance was in their power for the safety of themselves andthe materials.  At this time some would willingly have leftthe beacon and gone into the building: the sea, however, ran sohigh that there was no passage along the bridge of communication,and, when the interior of the lighthouse came to be examined inthe morning, it appeared that great quantities of water had comeover the walls—now eighty feet in height—and had rundown through the several apartments and out at the entrancedoor.

The upper course of the lighthouse at the workyard of Arbroathwas completed on the 6th, and the whole of the stones were,therefore, now ready for being shipped to the rock.  Fromthe present state of the works it was impossible that the twosquads of artificers at Arbroath and the Bell Rock could meettogether at this period; and as in public works of this kind,which had continued for a series of years, it is not customary toallow the men to separate without what is termed a“finishing-pint,” five guineas were for this purposeplaced at the disposal of Mr. David Logan, clerk of works. With this sum the stone-cutters at Arbroath had a merry meetingin their barrack, collected their sweethearts and friends, andconcluded their labours with a dance.  It was remarked,however, that their happiness on this occasion was not withoutalloy.  The consideration of parting and leaving a steadyand regular employment, to go in quest of work and mix with othersociety, after having been harmoniously lodged for years togetherin one large “guildhall or barrack,” was ratherpainful.

[Friday, 6th July]

While the writer was at Edinburgh he was fortunate enough tomeet with Mrs. Dickson, only daughter of the late celebrated Mr.Smeaton, whose works at the Eddystone Lighthouse had been of suchessential consequence to the operations at the Bell Rock. Even her own elegant accomplishments are identified with herfather’s work, she having herself made the drawing of thevignette on the title-page of the Narrative of the EddystoneLighthouse.  Every admirer of the works of thatsingularly eminent man must also feel an obligation to her forthe very comprehensive and distinct account given of his life,which is attached to his reports, published, in three volumesquarto, by the Society of Civil Engineers.  Mrs. Dickson,being at this time returning from a tour to the Hebrides andWestern Highlands of Scotland, had heard of the Bell Rock works,and from their similarity to those of the Eddystone was stronglyimpressed with a desire of visiting the spot.  But oninquiring for the writer at Edinburgh, and finding from him thatthe upper part of the lighthouse, consisting of nine courses,might be seen in the immediate vicinity, and also that one of thevessels which, in compliment to her father’s memory, hadbeen named the Smeaton, might also now be seen in Leith,she considered herself extremely fortunate; and having firstvisited the works at Greenside, she afterwards went to Leith tosee the Smeaton, then loading for the Bell Rock.  Onstepping on board, Mrs. Dickson seemed to be quite overcome withso many concurrent circumstances, tending in a peculiar manner torevive and enliven the memory of her departed father, and, onleaving the vessel, she would not be restrained from presentingthe crew with a piece of money.  The Smeatonhad beennamed spontaneously, from a sense of the obligation which apublic work of the description of the Bell Rock owed to thelabours and abilities of Mr. Smeaton.  The writer certainlynever could have anticipated the satisfaction which he this dayfelt in witnessing the pleasure it afforded to the onlyrepresentative of this great man’s family.

[Friday, 20th July]

The gale from the N.E. still continued so strong, accompaniedwith a heavy sea, that the Patriotcould not approach hermoorings; and although the tender still kept her station, nolanding was made to-day at the rock.  At high-water it wasremarked that the spray rose to the height of about sixty feetupon the building.  The Smeatonnow lay in Leithloaded, but, the wind and weather being so unfavourable for hergetting down the Firth, she did not sail till thisafternoon.  It may be here proper to notice that the loadingof the centre of the light-room floor, or last principal stone ofthe building, did not fail, when put on board, to excite aninterest among those connected with the work.  When thestone was laid upon the cart to be conveyed to Leith, the seamenfixed an ensign-staff and flag into the circular hole in thecentre of the stone, and decorated their own hats, and that ofJames Craw, the Bell Rock carter, with ribbons; even his faithfuland trusty horse Brassey was ornamented with bows and streamersof various colours.  The masons also provided themselveswith new aprons, and in this manner the cart was attended in itsprogress to the ship.  When the cart came opposite theTrinity House of Leith, the officer of that corporation made hisappearance dressed in his uniform, with his staff of office; andwhen it reached the harbour, the shipping in the different tierswhere the Smeatonlay hoisted their colours, manifestingby these trifling ceremonies the interest with which the progressof this work was regarded by the public, as ultimately tending toafford safety and protection to the mariner.  The wind hadfortunately shifted to the S.W., and about five o’clockthis afternoon the Smeatonreached the Bell Rock.

[Friday, 27th July]

The artificers had finished the laying of the balcony course,excepting the centre-stone of the light-room floor, which, likethe centres of the other floors, could not be laid in its placetill after the removal of the foot and shaft of thebalance-crane.  During the dinner-hour, when the men wereoff work the writer generally took some exercise by walking roundthe walls when the rock was under water; but to-day his boundarywas greatly enlarged, for, instead of the narrow wall as a path,he felt no small degree of pleasure in walking round the balconyand passing out and in at the space allotted for the light-roomdoor.  In the labours of this day both the artificers andseamen felt their work to be extremely easy compared with what ithad been for some days past.

[Sunday, 29th July]

Captain Wilson and his crew had made preparations for landingthe last stone, and, as may well be supposed, this was a day ofgreat interest at the Bell Rock.  ‘That it might losenone of its honours,’ as he expressed himself, theHedderwickpraam-boat, with which the first stone of thebuilding had been landed, was appointed also to carry thelast.  At seven o’clock this evening the seamenhoisted three flags upon the Hedderwick, when the coloursof the Dickiepraam-boat, tender, Smeaton, floatinglight, beacon-house, and lighthouse were also displayed; and, theweather being remarkably fine, the whole presented a very gayappearance, and, in connection with the associations excited, theeffect was very pleasing.  The praam which carried the stonewas towed by the seamen in gallant style to the rock, and, on itsarrival, cheers were given as a finale to the landingdepartment.

[Monday, 30th July]

The ninetieth or last course of the building having been laidto-day, which brought the masonry to the height of one hundredand two feet six inches, the lintel of the light-room door, beingthe finishing-stone of the exterior walls, was laid with dueformality by the writer, who, at the same time, pronounced thefollowing benediction: “May the Great Architect of theUniverse, under whose blessing this perilous work has prospered,preserve it as a guide to the mariner.”

[Friday, 3rd Aug.]

At three p.m., the necessary preparations having been made,the artificers commenced the completing of the floors of theseveral apartments, and at seven o’clock the centre-stoneof the light-room floor was laid, which may be held as finishingthe masonry of this important national edifice.  After goingthrough the usual ceremonies observed by the brotherhood onoccasions of this kind, the writer, addressing himself to theartificers and seamen who were present, briefly alluded to theutility of the undertaking as a monument of the wealth of Britishcommerce, erected through the spirited measures of theCommissioners of the Northern Lighthouses by means of the ableassistance of those who now surrounded him.  He then took anopportunity of stating that toward those connected with thisarduous work he would ever retain the most heartfelt regard inall their interests.

[Saturday, 4th Aug.]

When the bell was rung as usual on the beacon this morning,every one seemed as if he were at a loss what to make ofhimself.  At this period the artificers at the rockconsisted of eighteen masons, two joiners, one millwright, onesmith, and one mortar-maker, besides Messrs. Peter Logan andFrancis Watt, foremen, counting in all twenty-five; and matterswere arranged for proceeding to Arbroath this afternoon with allhands.  The Sir Joseph Bankstender had by this timebeen afloat, with little intermission, for six months, duringgreater part of which the artificers had been almost constantlyoff at the rock, and were now much in want of necessaries ofalmost every description.  Not a few had lost differentarticles of clothing, which had dropped into the sea from thebeacon and building.  Some wanted jackets; others, from wantof hats, wore nightcaps; each was, in fact, more or lesscurtailed in his wardrobe, and it must be confessed that at bestthe party were but in a very tattered condition.  Thismorning was occupied in removing the artificers and their beddingon board of the tender; and although their personal luggage waseasily shifted, the boats had, nevertheless, many articles toremove from the beacon-house, and were consequently employed inthis service till eleven a.m.  All hands being collected andjust ready to embark, as the water had nearly overflowed therock, the writer, in taking leave, after alluding to the harmonywhich had ever marked the conduct of those employed on the BellRock, took occasion to compliment the great zeal, attention, andabilities of Mr. Peter Logan and Mr. Francis Watt, foremen;Captain James Wilson, landing-master; and Captain David Taylor,commander of the tender, who, in their several departments, hadso faithfully discharged the duties assigned to them, often undercircumstances the most difficult and trying.  The health ofthese gentlemen was drunk with much warmth of feeling by theartificers and seamen, who severally expressed the satisfactionthey had experienced in acting under them; after which the wholeparty left the rock.

In sailing past the floating light mutual compliments weremade by a display of flags between that vessel and the tender;and at five p.m. the latter vessel entered the harbour ofArbroath, where the party were heartily welcomed by a numerouscompany of spectators, who had collected to see the artificersarrive after so long an absence from the port.  In theevening the writer invited the foremen and captains of theservice, together with Mr. David Logan, clerk of works atArbroath, and Mr. Lachlan Kennedy, engineer’s clerk andbook-keeper, and some of their friends, to the principal inn,where the evening was spent very happily; and after ‘HisMajesty’s Health’ and ‘The Commissioners of theNorthern Lighthouses’ had been given, ‘Stability tothe Bell Rock Lighthouse’ was hailed as a standing toast inthe Lighthouse service.

[Sunday, 5th Aug.]

The author has formerly noticed the uniformly decent andorderly deportment of the artificers who were employed at theBell Rock Lighthouse, and to-day, it is believed, they verygenerally attended church, no doubt with grateful hearts for thenarrow escapes from personal danger which all of them had more orless experienced during their residence at the rock.

[Tuesday, 14th Aug.]

The Smeatonsailed to-day at one p.m., having on boardsixteen artificers, with Mr. Peter Logan, together with a supplyof provisions and necessaries, who left the harbour pleased andhappy to find themselves once more afloat in the Bell Rockservice.  At seven o’clock the tender was made fast toher moorings, when the artificers landed on the rock and tookpossession of their old quarters in the beacon-house, withfeelings very different from those of 1807, when the workscommenced.

The barometer for some days past had been falling from 29.90,and to-day it was 29.50, with the wind at N.E., which, in thecourse of this day, increased to a strong gale accompanied with asea which broke with great violence upon the rock.  Attwelve noon the tender rode very heavily at her moorings, whenher chain broke at about ten fathoms from the ships bows. Thekedge-anchor was immediately let go, to hold her till thefloating buoy and broken chain should be got on board.  Butwhile this was in operation the hawser of the kedge was chafedthrough on the rocky bottom and parted, when the vessel was againadrift.  Most fortunately, however, she cast off with herhead from the rock, and narrowly cleared it, when she sailed upthe Firth of Forth to wait the return of better weather. The artificers were thus left upon the rock with so heavy a searunning that it was ascertained to have risen to a height ofeighty feet on the building.  Under such perilouscircumstances it would be difficult to describe the feelings ofthose who, at this time, were cooped up in the beacon in soforlorn a situation, with the sea not only raging under them, butoccasionally falling from a great height upon the roof of theirtemporary lodging, without even the attending vessel in view toafford the least gleam of hope in the event of anyaccident.  It is true that they now had the masonry of thelighthouse to resort to, which, no doubt, lessened the actualdanger of their situation; but the building was still without aroof, and the deadlights, or storm-shutters, not being yetfitted, the windows of the lower story were stove in and broken,and at high-water the sea ran in considerable quantities out atthe entrance door.

[Thursday, 16th Aug.]

The gale continues with unabated violence to-day, and thesprays rise to a still greater height, having been carried overthe masonry of the building, or about ninety feet above the levelof the sea.  At four o’clock this morning it wasbreaking into the cook’s berth, when he rang thealarm-bell, and all hands turned out to attend to their personalsafety.  The floor of the smith’s, or mortar gallery,was now completely burst up by the force of the sea, when thewhole of the deals and the remaining articles upon the floor wereswept away, such as the cast-iron mortar-tubs, the iron hearth ofthe forge, the smith’s bellows, and even his anvil werethrown down upon the rock.  Before the tide rose to its fullheight to-day some of the artificers passed along the bridge intothe lighthouse, to observe the effects of the sea upon it, andthey reported that they had felt a slight tremulous motion in thebuilding when great seas struck it in a certain direction, abouthigh-water mark.  On this occasion the sprays were againobserved to wet the balcony, and even to come over the parapetwall into the interior of the light-room.

[Thursday, 23rd Aug.]

The wind being at W.S.W., and the weather more moderate, boththe tender and the Smeatongot to their moorings on the23rd, when all hands were employed in transporting thesash-frames from on board of the Smeatonto therock.  In the act of setting up one of these frames upon thebridge, it was unguardedly suffered to lose its balance, and insaving it from damage Captain Wilson met with a severe bruise inthe groin, on the seat of a gun-shot wound received in the earlypart of his life.  This accident laid him aside for severaldays.

[Monday, 27th Aug.]

The sash-frames of the light-room, eight in number, andweighing each 254 pounds, having been got safely up to the top ofthe building, were ranged on the balcony in the order in whichthey were numbered for their places on the top of theparapet-wall; and the balance-crane, that useful machine havingnow lifted all the heavier articles, was unscrewed and lowered,to use the landing-master’s phrase, ‘in mournfulsilence.’

[Sunday, 2nd Sept.]

The steps of the stair being landed, and all the weightierarticles of the light-room got up to the balcony, the woodenbridge was now to be removed, as it had a very powerful effectupon the beacon when a heavy sea struck it, and could notpossibly have withstood the storms of a winter.  Everythinghaving been cleared from the bridge, and nothing left but the twoprincipal beams with their horizontal braces, James Glen, athigh-water, proceeded with a saw to cut through the beams at theend next the beacon, which likewise disengaged their oppositeextremity, inserted a few inches into the building.  Theframe was then gently lowered into the water, and floated off tothe Smeatonto be towed to Arbroath, to be applied as partof the materials in the erection of the lightkeepers’houses.  After the removal of the bridge, the aspect ofthings at the rock was much altered.  The beacon-house andbuilding had both a naked look to those accustomed to theirformer appearance; a curious optical deception was also remarked,by which the lighthouse seemed to incline from the perpendiculartowards the beacon.  The horizontal rope-ladder beforenoticed was again stretched to preserve the communication, andthe artificers were once more obliged to practise the awkward andstraddling manner of their passage between them during 1809.

At twelve noon the bell rung for prayers, after which theartificers went to dinner, when the writer passed along therope-ladder to the lighthouse, and went through the severalapartments, which were now cleared of lumber.  In theafternoon all hands were summoned to the interior of the house,when he had the satisfaction of laying the upper step of thestair, or last stone of the building.  This ceremonyconcluded with three cheers, the sound of which had a very loudand strange effect within the walls of the lighthouse.  Atsix o’clock Mr. Peter Logan and eleven of the artificersembarked with the writer for Arbroath, leaving Mr. James Glenwith the special charge of the beacon and railways, Mr. RobertSelkirk with the building, with a few artificers to fit thetemporary windows to render the house habitable.

[Sunday, 14th Oct.]

On returning from his voyage to the Northern Lighthouses, thewriter landed at the Bell Rock on Sunday, the 14th of October,and had the pleasure to find, from the very favourable state ofthe weather, that the artificers had been enabled to make greatprogress with the fitting-up of the light-room.

[Friday, 19th Oct.]

The light-room work had proceeded, as usual, to-day under thedirection of Mr. Dove, assisted in the plumber-work by Mr. JohnGibson, and in the brazier-work by Mr. Joseph Fraser; while Mr.James Slight, with the joiners, were fitting up thestorm-shuttters of the windows.  In these severaldepartments the artificers were at work till seven o’clockp.m., and it being then dark, Mr. Dove gave orders to drop workin the light-room; and all hands proceeded from thence to thebeacon-house, when Charles Henderson, smith, and Henry Dickson,brazier, left the work together.  Being both young men, whohad been for several weeks upon the rock, they had becomefamiliar, and even playful, on the most difficult parts about thebeacon and building.  This evening they were trying tooutrun each other in descending from the light-room, whenHenderson led the way; but they were in conversation with eachother till they came to the rope-ladder distended between theentrance-door of the lighthouse and the beacon.  Dickson, onreaching the cook-room, was surprised at not seeing hiscompanion, and inquired hastily for Henderson.  Upon whichthe cook replied, ‘Was he before you upon therope-ladder?’  Dickson answered, ‘Yes; and Ithought I heard something fall.’  Upon this the alarmwas given, and links were immediately lighted, with which theartificers descended on the legs of the beacon, as near thesurface of the water as possible, it being then about full tide,and the sea breaking to a considerable height upon the building,with the wind at S.S.E.  But, after watching till low-water,and searching in every direction upon the rock, it appeared thatpoor Henderson must have unfortunately fallen through therope-ladder, and been washed into the deep water.

The deceased had passed along this rope-ladder many hundredtimes, both by day and night, and the operations in which he wasemployed being nearly finished, he was about to leave the rockwhen this melancholy catastrophe took place.  Theunfortunate loss of Henderson cast a deep gloom upon the minds ofall who were at the rock, and it required some management on thepart of those who had charge to induce the people to remainpatiently at their work; as the weather now became moreboisterous, and the nights long, they found their habitationextremely cheerless, while the winds were howling about theirears, and the waves lashing with fury against the beams of theirinsulated habitation.

[Tuesday, 23rd Oct.]

The wind had shifted in the night to N.W., and blew a freshgale, while the sea broke with violence upon the rock.  Itwas found impossible to land, but the writer, from the boat,hailed Mr. Dove, and directed the ball to be immediatelyfixed.  The necessary preparations were accordingly made,while the vessel made short tacks on the southern side of therock, in comparatively smooth water.  At noon Mr. Dove,assisted by Mr. James Slight, Mr. Robert Selkirk, Mr. James Glen,and Mr. John Gibson, plumber, with considerable difficulty, fromthe boisterous state of the weather, got the gilded ball screwedon, measuring two feet in diameter, and forming the principalventilator at the upper extremity of the cupola of thelight-room.  At Mr. Hamilton’s desire, a salute ofseven guns was fired on this occasion, and, all hands beingcalled to the quarter-deck, ‘Stability to the Bell RockLighthouse’ was not forgotten.

[Tuesday, 30th Oct.]

On reaching the rock it was found that a very heavy sea stillran upon it; but the writer having been disappointed on twoformer occasions, and, as the erection of the house might now beconsidered complete, there being nothing wanted externally,excepting some of the storm-shutters for the defence of thewindows, he was the more anxious at this time to inspectit.  Two well-manned boats were therefore ordered to be inattendance; and, after some difficulty, the wind being at N.N.E.,they got safely into the western creek, though not withoutencountering plentiful sprays.  It would have beenimpossible to have attempted a landing to-day, under any othercircumstances than with boats perfectly adapted to the purpose,and with seamen who knew every ledge of the rock, and even thelength of the sea-weeds at each particular spot, so as to diptheir oars into the water accordingly, and thereby prevent themfrom getting entangled.  But what was of no less consequenceto the safety of the party, Captain Wilson, who always steeredthe boat, had a perfect knowledge of the set of the differentwaves, while the crew never shifted their eyes from observing hismotions, and the strictest silence was preserved by everyindividual except himself.

On entering the house, the writer had the pleasure to find itin a somewhat habitable condition, the lower apartments beingclosed in with temporary windows, and fitted with properstorm-shutters.  The lowest apartment at the head of thestaircase was occupied with water, fuel, and provisions, put upin a temporary way until the house could be furnished with properutensils.  The second, or light-room store, was at presentmuch encumbered with various tools and apparatus for the use ofthe workmen.  The kitchen immediately over this had, as yet,been supplied only with a common ship’s caboose andplate-iron funnel, while the necessary cooking utensils had beentaken from the beacon.  The bedroom was for the present usedas the joiners’ workshop, and the strangers’ room,immediately under the light-room, was occupied by the artificers,the beds being ranged in tiers, as was done in the barrack of thebeacon.  The light-room, though unprovided with itsmachinery, being now covered over with the cupola, glazed andpainted, had a very complete and cleanly appearance.  Thebalcony was only as yet fitted with a temporary rail, consistingof a few iron stanchions, connected with ropes; and in this stateit was necessary to leave it during the winter.

Having gone over the whole of the low-water works on the rock,the beacon, and lighthouse, and being satisfied that only themost untoward accident in the landing of the machinery couldprevent the exhibition of the light in the course of the winter,Mr. John Reid, formerly of the floating light, was now put incharge of the lighthouse as principal keeper; Mr. James Slighthad charge of the operations of the artificers, while Mr. JamesDove and the smiths, having finished the frame of the light-room,left the rock for the present.  With these arrangements thewriter bade adieu to the works for the season.  At elevena.m. the tide was far advanced; and there being now little or noshelter for the boats at the rock, they had to be pulled throughthe breach of sea, which came on board in great quantities, andit was with extreme difficulty that they could be kept in theproper direction of the landing-creek.  On this occasion hemay be permitted to look back with gratitude on the many escapesmade in the course of this arduous undertaking, now brought sonear to a successful conclusion.

[Monday, 5th Nov.]

On Monday, the 5th, the yacht again visited the rock, when Mr.Slight and the artificers returned with her to the workyard,where a number of things were still to prepare connected with thetemporary fitting up of the accommodation for thelightkeepers.  Mr. John Reid and Peter Fortune were now theonly inmates of the house.  This was the smallest number ofpersons hitherto left in the lighthouse.  As fourlightkeepers were to be the complement, it was intended thatthree should always be at the rock.  Its present inmates,however, could hardly have been better selected for such asituation; Mr. Reid being a person possessed of the strictestnotions of duty and habits of regularity from long service onboard of a man-of-war, while Mr. Fortune had one of the mosthappy and contented dispositions imaginable.

[Tuesday, 13th Nov.]

From Saturday the 10th till Tuesday the 13th, the wind hadbeen from N.E. blowing a heavy gale; but to-day, the weatherhaving greatly moderated, Captain Taylor, who now commanded theSmeaton, sailed at two o’clock a.m. for the BellRock.  At five the floating light was hailed and found to beall well.  Being a fine moonlight morning, the seamen werechanged from the one ship to the other.  At eight, theSmeatonbeing off the rock, the boats were manned, andtaking a supply of water, fuel, and other necessaries, landed atthe western side, when Mr. Reid and Mr. Fortune were found ingood health and spirits.

Mr. Reid stated that during the late gales, particularly onFriday, the 30th, the wind veering from S.E. to N.E., both he andMr. Fortune sensibly felt the house tremble when particular seasstruck, about the time of high-water; the former observing thatit was a tremor of that sort which rather tended to convince himthat everything about the building was sound, and reminded him ofthe effect produced when a good log of timber is struck sharplywith a mallet; but, with every confidence in the stability of thebuilding, he nevertheless confessed that, in so forlorn asituation, they were not insensible to those emotions which, heemphatically observed, ‘made a man look back upon hisformer life.’

[1881 Friday, 1st Feb.]

The day, long wished for, on which the mariner was to see alight exhibited on the Bell Rock at length arrived.  CaptainWilson, as usual, hoisted the float’s lanterns to thetopmast on the evening of the 1st of February; but the momentthat the light appeared on the rock, the crew, giving threecheers, lowered them, and finally extinguished the lights.

Printed by T. and A.Constable, Printers to His Majesty
at the Edinburgh University Press.

Footnotes:

[2a]  An error: Stevensons owned atthis date the barony of Dolphingston in Haddingtonshire,Montgrennan in Ayrshire, and several other lesser places.

[3a]  Pitcairn’s CriminalTrials, at large.—[R. L. S.]

[4a]  Fountainhall’sDecisions, vol. i. pp. 56, 132, 186, 204, 368.—[R.L. S.]

[4b]  Ibid.pp. 158,299.—[R. L. S.]

[4c]  Working farmer:  Fr.laboureur.

[7a]  This John Stevenson was not theonly ‘witness’ of the name; other Stevensons wereactually killed during the persecutions, in the Glen of Trool, onPentland, etc.; and it is very possible that the author’sown ancestor was one of the mounted party embodied by Muir ofCaldwell, only a day too late for Pentland.

[7b]  Wodrow Society’s SelectBiographies, vol. ii.—[R. L. S.]

[9a]  Though the districts here namedare those in which the name of Stevenson is most common, it is inpoint of fact far more wide-spread than the text indicates, andoccurs from Dumfries and Berwickshire to Aberdeen and Orkney.

[12a]  Mr. J. H. Stevenson is satisfiedthat these speculations as to a possible Norse, Highland, orFrench origin are vain.  All we know about the engineerfamily is that it was sprung from a stock of Westland Whigssettled in the latter part of the seventeenth century in theparish of Neilston, as mentioned at the beginning of the nextchapter.  It may be noted that the Ayrshire parish ofStevenston, the lands of which are said to have received the namein the twelfth century, lies within thirteen miles south-west ofthis place.  The lands of Stevenson in Lanarkshire firstmentioned in the next century, in the Ragman Roll, lie withintwenty miles east.

[54a]  This is only a probablehypothesis; I have tried to identify my father’s anecdotein my grandfather’s diary, and may very well have beendeceived.—[R. L. S.]

[91a]  This is, of course, thetradition commemorated by Southey in his ballad of ‘TheInchcape Bell.’  Whether true or not, it points to thefact that from the infancy of Scottish navigation, the seafaringmind had been fully alive to the perils of this reef. Repeated attempts had been made to mark the place with beacons,but all efforts were unavailing (one such beacon having beencarried away within eight days of its erection) until RobertStevenson conceived and carried out the idea of the stonetower.  But the number of vessels actually lost upon thereef was as nothing to those that were cast away in fruitlessefforts to avoid it.  Placed right in the fairway of twonavigations, and one of these the entrance to the only harbour ofrefuge between the Downs and the Moray Firth, it breathed abroadalong the whole coast an atmosphere of terror and perplexity; andno ship sailed that part of the North Sea at night, but what theears of those on board would be strained to catch the roaring ofthe seas on the Bell Rock.

[92a]  The particular event whichconcentrated Mr. Stevenson’s attention on the problem ofthe Bell Rock was the memorable gale of December 1799, when,among many other vessels, H.M.S. York, a seventy-four-gunship, went down with all hands on board.  Shortly after thisdisaster Mr. Stevenson made a careful survey, and prepared hismodels for a stone tower, the idea of which was at first receivedwith pretty general scepticism, Smeaton’s Eddystone towercould not be cited as affording a parallel, for there the rock isnot submerged even at high-water, while the problem of the BellRock was to build a tower of masonry on a sunken reef far distantfrom land, covered at every tide to a depth of twelve feet ormore, and having thirty-two fathoms’ depth of water withina mile of its eastern edge.

[94a]  The grounds for the rejection ofthe Bill by the House of Lords in 1802–3 had been that theextent of coast over which dues were proposed to be levied wouldbe too great.  Before going to Parliament again, the Boardof Northern Lights, desiring to obtain support and corroborationfor Mr. Stevenson’s views, consulted first Telford, who wasunable to give the matter his attention, and then (onStevenson’s suggestion) Rennie, who concurred in affirmingthe practicability of a stone tower, and supported the Bill whenit came again before Parliament in 1806.  Rennie wasafterwards appointed by the Commissioners as advising engineer,whom Stevenson might consult in cases of emergency.  Itseems certain that the title of chief engineer had in thisinstance no more meaning than the above.  Rennie, in pointof fact, proposed certain modifications in Stevenson’splans, which the latter did not accept; nevertheless Renniecontinued to take a kindly interest in the work, and the twoengineers remained in friendly correspondence during itsprogress.  The official view taken by the Board as to thequarter in which lay both the merit and the responsibility of thework may be gathered from a minute of the Commissioners at theirfirst meeting held after Stevenson died; in which they recordtheir regret ‘at the death of this zealous, faithful, andable officer, to whom is due the honour of conceiving andexecuting the Bell Rock Lighthouse.’  The matteris briefly summed up in the Lifeof Robert Stevenson byhis son David Stevenson (A. & C. Black, 1878), and fullydiscussed, on the basis of official facts and figures, by thesame writer in a letter to the Civil Engineers’ andArchitects’ Journal, 1862.

[122a]  ‘Nothing was said, but Iwas looked out of countenance,’ he says in aletter.

[171a] Ill-formed—ugly.—[R. L. S.]

[174a]  This is an incurable illusionof my grandfather’s; he always writes‘distended’ for ‘extended.’—[R. L.S.]

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