There’s a lot going on at the Lizard Peninsula.  Three main landowners (National Trust, Cornwall Wildlife Trust, Natural England) and an absence of fences, enhance the feeling of a windblown wilderness.  It’s host to a large, if somewhat fragmented National Nature Reserve, forms an important part of the equally fragmented Cornwall Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and is fringed with crashing seas, rocks, cliffs and, for those with a head for heights, the South West Coast Path.  Lizard Point is also the southern-most tip of Britain and home to our southern-most lighthouse - and self-catering holiday let. 

 The first Lizard lighthouse was completed in 1619 (https://www.trinityhouse.co.uk/lighthouses-and-lightvessels/lizard-lighthouse), over a decade before warning braziers were constructed on the South Foreland in Kent, overlooking the Goodwin Sands (https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/south-foreland-lighthouse/features/the-history-of-the-lighthouse-) and many years before the first Eddystone light was operative in 1699 (https://www.britannica.com/topic/Eddystone-Lighthouse-Eddystone-Rocks-English-Channel).

This early lighthouse was built by one John Killigrew who, despite opposition from local villagers (who foresaw a steep decline in income from shipwrecks), was granted a patent to construct a warning of hazardous waters, provided that the light was extinguished at the approach of ‘the enemy’.  It was described as being, ‘a great benefit to mariners’, but as the ship owners refused to contribute to its upkeep, the bankrupt Killigrew was forced to demolish his philanthropic venture some 20 years later.

Peter Stanier’s ‘Cornwall’s Industrial Heritage’ notes that it was a “private lighthouse … opposed by Trinity House and local wreckers.”   Trinity House says, “Many stories are told of the activities of wreckers around our coasts, most of which are grossly exaggerated, but small communities occasionally and sometimes officially benefited from the spoils of shipwrecks, and petitions for lighthouses were, in certain cases, rejected on the strength of local opinion; this was particularly true in the South West of England”.  How tactful (Terroir’s highlighting).  On this subject, we can also recommend a ‘Stories in Stone’ video at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BdKHi4JYrag.

Whatever the reason, subsequent lighthouse applications failed until, in 1748, Trinity House supported local landowner Thomas Fonnereau, in a successful lighthouse bid.  The building (in operation by 1752) consisted of two towers with a cottage between them, which had a window facing each tower.  Coal fires were lit on the towers, and required bellows-blowers to keep the fires burning brightly; if the fires dimmed, an overseer in the cottage would encourage their endeavours with a blast from a cow horn. 

Trinity House took over responsibility for the lights in 1771, and, in 1811, replaced the coal fires with oil lights.  Three additional cottages were also constructed in 1845.  But the biggest change occurred with the construction of an engine room, in 1874, using “caloric engines and dynamos” to power the light and a new fog horn.  Even more staff were required so more cottages followed.  In 1903, a high powered rotating carbon arc light was installed on the east tower, thus eliminating the need for any light on the west tower.   The arc light was replaced with an electric filament lamp in 1936.  LEDs will follow soon.  Automation arrived in 1998, and the resident lighthouse keepers worked their final shift. 

The engine room is now a Heritage Centre, thanks to the Heritage Lottery Fund.  Exhibits range from, unsurprisingly, engineering and lamps (see below), to communications, living and working conditions and a soft play area for trial constructions of your own lighthouse tower. 

The lighting system currently consists of the most magnificent four panel rotating optic which was installed in 1903.  These magnificent panels, framed in Cornish granite, and, according to Wonder-Woman-Guide, resting in a tank of mercury, rotate continuously.  To non-physicists like Terroir, the optics seem to represent some of the best and simplest of art nouveau, but presumably this is merely an illusion based on association with the date they were installed.  We were also captivated by our guide’s allusion to the history which these lenses would have illuminated, including the passage of the Titanic on her way to meet her iceberg fate. 

Such was the intensity of the light, that the rotating beam provided night long illumination, upsetting both the local ecology and the local inhabitants. As a result, a blackout was provided for the lantern room window closest to the village.

Since automation, the back up lamp can be raised into position remotely, by the Trinity House depot in Harwich. A further back up is also available for the ultimate unexpected event. A couple of other items, no longer required but still in situ, are illustrated below.

And why does the optic rotate continuously? We have heard at least two convincing explanations: due to the structure of the lenses, a static optic, bathed in sunlight, could cause a pretty nasty fire. In addition, an optic system which has been in operation continuously since 1903, just might fail to start again.