The Lighthouse Stevensons - Bella Bathurst [46]
Throughout the winter, Robert busied himself with other lighthouse business, and with his family. Thomas Smith was now living out his retirement at Baxter’s Place, preoccupied with his recreational but time-consuming New Town pursuits. For Robert, as head of the Smith-Stevenson brood, Baxter’s Place was still a satisfying home to return to. Most of his business was conducted from the house, and once the flocks of children had been tidied away, he used it as both office and headquarters. There were also many people keen to meet him. As the reputation of the Bell Rock grew, so Robert’s stature in Edinburgh society increased. Despite his temporary resignation from the Smith & Stevenson lamp-making business, offers of work came in as fast as ever. Robert turned down most projects, but still found time to take an interest in developments elsewhere and to advise the occasional petitioning official.
Robert’s campaign against Rennie had almost certainly been conducted with the aim of raising his public profile. He was beady enough to know that the sea-swept reef eleven miles off the coast would make or break his reputation. If his gamble succeeded, it would transform him from a mere freelance engineer into one of the elite new breed of technological experts. And, with Rennie sulking from a safe distance, it appeared as if Robert’s fondest predictions were all coming true.
The Lighthouse Commissioners, meanwhile, kept Robert as preoccupied as always. Though they expected him to work full-tilt on the Bell Rock, they also saw no reason for him to give up his duties with the other lights. During the winter, he managed a hurried tour round the coast, checking over the details of each lighthouse. Some of the keepers complained of lack of adequate pasturage for their cows, others of the difficulties in getting schooling for their children or work for their wives. Some had to be reprimanded for incompetence, while nev keepers had to be interviewed and appointed. Robert, as usual, also checked sites for new lights and began negotiations with local landowners for buying lighthouse land. Once back in Edinburgh, Robert was expected to justify his Bell Rock expendes and to maintain regular visits to the site throughout the winter. He was also preoccupied with the distractions of the press-gangs, who had discovered the works at Arbroath to be a fertile new source of recruits. Though Robert’s staff were theoretically exempt from impressment, it invariably took a lengthy session in the Admiralty Court to extract them; one workman spent five months in prison before Robert could rescue him.
At the end of March 1808, Robert made a thorough inspection of the rock and was satisfied to note that none of the previous season’s building work had been dislodged through the heavy winter gales. ‘This,’ considered Robert, ‘was a matter of no small importance to the future success of the work.’ It meant both that his calculations and gambles had paid off, and that a solid structure, when correctly designed, could survive the worst that the reef and the sea could hurl at it. Fortified by this knowledge, Robert began full-time work again on the rock at the end of May. The beacon, with its six clawed legs, rose steadily heavenward. In addition to the temporary light, it also now housed a platform on which the smith could work his forge, and a space for the mixing of mortar. Above the platform was to be the workmen’s barracks, with four small rooms for eating, sleeping and washing.
This season, Robert concentrated mainly on completing the foundation-pit. The huge circular hole in the reef was comparatively shallow (around two feet deep), but the diggers still had to contend with uncharitable sandstone and contrary seas. As much time was spent baling the pit out as