When Henry Hall Looked Up

Stairs, Cape Spear, o/p, 35" x 24", Steven Rhude

Early one morning the sun was late
Henry Hall looked out to sea
a forerunner of fate.
The rise was a flame
the sea it was dark,
later he would discover
it took just one tiny spark.
For a keeper who is old
tired and worn,
he raised his arms
he raised his head 
 to the next one born.

The Halls were a family
keepers of light.
South of Rame Head
the  rocks were a fright.
A reef just off Plymouth,
a mariner's gate
a place for destruction 
damnation and hate.
The wars were a plenty
between England and France
The first tower rose
nothing left to chance.
By surprise one morning
a privateer did show
off with the architect
off they did go.
Now Louis XIV was angry
tired and worn.
He raised his arms
he raised his head
to the next one born

Rudyerd's was built 
in 1709
The shape of a cone
They said it looked fine.
A roof made of lead
between the light,
the years kept on passing
until winter was right.
So on December the second, 
1755
Henry Hall looked up
to see fire was alive.
How it got started
would have to wait
water was needed
before it was to late.
But he paused for a moment
because he was old,
tired and worn,
he raised his arms
he raised his head
to the next one born.

Now water's a liquid 
that runs on down hill.
when tension runs high
it's to precious to spill.
Every drop it is needed
when fury's at hand,
to throw it on upwards
was to much for the man. 
His breath it was taken 
he  gasped for clean air
the lead roof was melting
it pelted his hair.
In one tragic moment it spattered his mouth,
rained down like a gale
come out of the south.
He wished he were drifting 
alone in a boat,
as the molten lead trickled
right down his throat.
He swallowed hard 
though he was tired and worn,
he raised his arms
he raised his head
to the next one born.

Back down the stairway
pushed out by the fire 
Henry retreated
from a funeral pyre.
The waves they were pounding
the water was cold,
caught between elements
to much to behold.
To go down would be freezing
to go up was to hot,
from real to surreal
it was time he took stock.
But voices were shouting
far off in a boat,
through the darkness he stumbled
he crawled  and he hoped.
The voice became clearer
"Henry we can't get to close",

how could this have happened...

to be so near yet so far.
Several ropes they were thrown
 up to the stars,
one landed beside Henry
the captain did boast.
Dragged through the cold water
back to the coast. 
too much when so old
tired and worn
he raised his arms
he raised his head
to the next one born.

Henry hung on then
 for twelve days he did drift,
it can't be explained by science
or myth.
His dreams they were frenzied, 
frantic and fast,
so much came back to him 
his loves, the lights of his past.
Secrets he'll take
 from the cradle to the grave,
no one will know 
the mariners he saved.
The last one to see to him,
to stand by his bed,
was a doctor of postmortem,
who found seven ounces of lead.
They didn't believe him
no way was he alive,
so long weighed down
he shouldn't have survived.
And how could this be 
the doctor was told
that his last words were symbolic,
a forerunner  retold.
You don't have to believe it
but Henry said this to me.
On the morning of the fire 
he looked out to sea.


"It didn't seem like a normal day
 the sun was late
I looked out to sea
a forerunner of fate.
The rise was a flame
the sea it was dark,
later I would discover
it took just one tiny spark.
For a keeper who is old
tired and worn,
I raised my arms
I raised my head 
 to the next one born."



Henry Hall was the Light keeper at Rudyerd's Light which lasted 47 years until the tragic fire which took Henry's life in 1755. Eddystone Rock is located 13 miles south west of Plymouth, England.

Steven Rhude, Wolfville