Who is not familiar with the red and white striped Smeaton’s Tower on Plymouth Hoe? An icon that defines Plymouth, a subliminal half second blink and we recognise it... But how did it come about?
Let there be light
Winstanley’s lighthouse had been swept away after five years by the Great Storm of 1703; Rudyerd’s replacement burnt down after fifty years’ service. This time, a proper engineer was to be employed; John Smeaton.
With no lighthouse on the Eddystone, there was both a danger to mariners and no income from light dues for John Weston and his partners, who had the lease of the rocks from Trinity House. Weston met in London with folk from Trinity House and the Royal Society, seeking advice on a rebuild. John Smeaton was immediately recommended. This young Yorkshireman was working on various ingenious mechanical devices in London and had just been awarded the Gold Medal of the Royal Society for one of his projects.
Problem solving
Smeaton came straight down to Plymouth. He worked with Josiah Jessop, the boatman who had sailed many times to the previous lighthouse to transport keepers and supplies; he knew the rocks and their problems in all weathers.
Smeaton threw himself into finding a solution, working with models and bouncing ideas off Jessop. His proposed design was revolutionary both in material and method of construction. He made models and drawings, got his base at Millbay organised and employed reliable workmen – a task largely delegated to Jessop. He travelled around quarries to find suitable stone, selecting granite from Lanlivery Quarry near Fowey for the base and outsides, with more easily worked Portland stone for inside the tower.
Innovation
The idea was to build entirely in stone, using the weight to hold the lighthouse in place against wind and waves rather than bolting wood to the rock. The shape too was unique, broader at the base and curving in to a narrower top section; all lighthouses built on offshore rocks since have used this design.
Each stone block was carefully and accurately carved into shape on shore, ready to be dovetailed securely into the others on the same level. A mock-up of one such layer is on the pavement between Salumi and The Duke of Cornwall hotel. As layers were added, the solidity of the structure was ensured. Note that the first job was in some ways the most awkward – to carve the rock into steps ready to receive the first layers. This was the work of one whole summer season.
Management
There was no way men working on the rock could sail back to Plymouth each night. Smeaton obtained a large vessel that could be moored by the rock. Unless conditions were totally unsuitable, men could sleep on board and then move to the rock to continue work. His first attempt to place this vessel was close to disastrous. Before it could be properly moored, an easterly gale drove it off position. It was unable to sail back to Plymouth; for safety it had to stay well offshore and allow itself to be driven westward. Eventually, the wind changed and allowed Smeaton and his crew to get back to Plymouth, having used up all of their provisions.
Another problem was the naval press gangs, who would arguably be entitled to take Smeaton’s skilled workers for the Navy as we were at war again with France. He negotiated an agreement with the Admiralty that his men should have a special medallion to show the press gangs, exempting them from being taken off. A specimen is to be seen in the Box.
Over a century of service
Layer by carefully cut layer the stones were placed and the tower rose to its final height. Finally, the newly appointed keepers could light the 24 large candles on 16 October 1759, just less than four years since there had last been a light there. This innovative lighthouse lasted well over a hundred years, seeing advances in lighting technology and only eventually having to be replaced because of erosion of the rock it was built on.
Ron Smith
