The Skerries, as seen from an approaching Trinity House helicopter. The helipad was built on part of a walled garden in which the keepers grew vegetables. The part that survives is still under cultivation in this shot.
(C.J. Foulds)

THE DAY Henry Winstanley first put a taper to the tallow candles in his beacon on the Eddystone, a new era of lighthouse construction was about to unfold. He had proved that it was by no means impossible to place a lighthouse on an isolated, sea-swept rock. On the contrary, there was just such a structure for all to see, a tower whose existence large numbers of people were certainly aware of, even if they had not actually set eyes upon it.

Trinity House were doubtless grateful to Winstanley for erecting his structure and for the financial saving it meant to them. They would, however, have been less grateful for the deluge of requests that now followed, in the wake of Winstanley’s triumph, for similar beacons to be put up on various equally exposed sites around the coasts of England and Wales. If it could be done on the Eddystone then surely it was possible anywhere. Demands and petitions from various quarters were renewed and presented to Trinity House, who, under the Charter of 1566, had been granted the sole right to supervise the erection of lighthouses and beacons.

In particular, several of these petitions were for the lighting of a notorious group of low-lying, grass-topped rocks 4 miles off the northern coast of Anglesey and 7 miles north-east from the port of Holyhead. They took their name from the Gaelic word sgeir meaning reef or rocky islet, and subsequently became known as the Skerries. Their Welsh name is a little more descriptive – Ynysoedd y Moelrhoniaid, means ‘the Islands of Bald-headed grey seals’. What is interesting about the lighthouse on this site is not so much the tale of its construction, but more the history of how it came into existence and also the curious events which took place before it was finally acquired by Trinity House from private ownership.

The Skerries reef and its lighthouse.
(Air Images Ltd.)

As long ago as 1658 there were rumblings of discontent about the Skerries from merchants trading between Great Britain and Ireland. Chief amongst the protesters was one Henry Hascard, a private speculator, who highlighted the need for some kind of beacon on these rocks, particularly as they were in the direct path of vessels plying between Liverpool and Dublin. He appealed to Oliver Cromwell’s Council of State and further offered personally to erect a beacon there. Trinity House, jealously guarding their rights, opposed Hascard vehemently and the matter lapsed, even though in April 1662 they agreed in principle that the construction of a beacon on the Skerries was desirable.

A particularly high-profile casualty of the Skerries at this time was the first British ‘Royal Yacht’ Maria – an eight gun ship that was a gift to Charles II in 1660 from the people of Holland. On 25th May 1675 she was en-route from Dublin to Chester with 46 passengers and 28 crew when she struck the Skerries in full sail and dense fog at 9.30pm. She came to rest on her side against one of the smaller rocks with her mast touching land, enabling just over half the passengers to escape to safety along the mast-bridge. The ship’s Master, his bosun and another thirty or so souls perished.

With the dawn of the 18th century came renewed attempts to get this cluster of rocks lit. Over 140 merchantmen signed a petition to this end in 1705. It had been drawn up by Captain John Davison who duly presented his signatures to the Attorney General in 1709, pointing out that it was only because, “...many ships were cast away...chiefly for want of a light in the night on the Welsh Coast” that his petition was necessary. The Attorney General at that time was Sir Edward Northey who, out of courtesy in 1711, invited the views of the Elder Brethren of Trinity House on this matter. Again they trotted out the argument that Queen Elizabeth I had granted to them the sole right in these matters, and under no circumstances were they prepared to put the undertaking into the hands of private individuals. Also, they now saw no pressing need for a light on this site. However, if those involved were still concerned about the Skerries and were prepared to meet some of the cost, then Trinity House would build a lighthouse there.

Two of the original hand-painted Trinity House plans for their new lighthouse on the Skerries.
(Trinity House)

This was indeed a curious statement to make, particularly as in 1662 they were in agreement with the principle but the construction, they said, was out of the question owing to the isolated and exposed position of the rocks. Yet now, just 49 years later, the Elder Brethren were actually offering to do the building themselves. Could it be that the successful placing of two lighthouses on the notorious Eddystone had altered the perspective with which they viewed isolated sea rocks, and that sites previously considered impossible were now being regarded as a more feasible proposition? If this is so then Rudyerd and Winstanley had certainly achieved far more than simply illuminating the Eddystone.

What is probably the most significant decision in the whole history of the Skerries and their lighthouse was now taken by Northey and his Law Officers. They disagreed with Trinity House about their sole rights, and recommended to the Crown that Captain Davison’s petition and offer of construction be granted in 1710. Legal difficulties encountered when trying to negotiate a lease of the Skerries from their owner, one John Robinson, meant that Davison and his fellow petitioners never availed themselves of this historic decision and their interest waned in 1712.

Shortly afterwards, in June 1713, the Skerries had been acquired from John Robinson by a wealthy merchant, William Trench, with a 99-year lease on payment of £10 rent for the first year and £20 for subsequent years. By 13th July of the following year he had added to this a patent for the erection of a lighthouse, financed from his own pocket, at an additional annual rent of £5, but with a provision to collect dues of 1d and 2d a ton from shipping for the 60 years after its completion.

Trench could not have had a more disastrous start. In 1714 he supervised the loading of the first boat with men and materials and watched its departure for the Skerries. In this boat was his son and six workmen. William Trench was never to see his son again; before the party could reach the rocks their boat was wrecked in a freak storm which swamped the heavily loaded boat and snapped its mast. It was driven on to Platters Rock with the loss of all seven men. As might be imagined, such events were a hammer blow to his enthusiasm and it was not until 1717 that he finished his lighthouse. It had cost him the life of his son and in excess of £3,000. He had produced a tower, “about 150 foot higher than ye sea about it and on ye 4th November a fire was kindled therein and ever since supported.” It was a landmark in more ways than one, for apart from the warning it gave of the Skerries it was also the first permanent light along the entire west coast of England.

Rather than relying on candles for illumination Trench had installed a coal-burning grate in the lantern. His reasoning was not quite as absurd as it might first appear. The northern coast of Anglesey was frequently engulfed by notorious sea fogs which can form in a matter of minutes and last for several days. These swirling mists were the cause of many fine vessels prematurely ending their days on these rocky outcrops. It is unlikely that any source of illumination could pierce far into these clinging fogs, but of the choices of illuminant Trench could reasonably have made, a cast-iron grate 3 ft across piled high with burning coals was perhaps the most satisfactory compromise. Its intensity, although completely inadequate by later standards, would certainly have been an improvement on a handful of tallow candles.

The gulls are circling the Skerries lighthouse as a heavy squall, complete with rainbow, moves past in the background. On the left of the picture is one of the stepped gable ends of the original keepers cottage.
(C.J. Foulds)

According to contemporary documents, the circular stone tower was about 36ft high with the grate set at 78ft above the high water mark. At a later date, but on the same islet, a lightkeeper’s cottage was built from the local stone with the characteristic Anglesey feature of stepped gable ends. This structure still exists today and has recently been renovated. Although it had ceased to be inhabited since the middle of the 19th century, it is probably the earliest remaining purpose-built offshore lighthouse keeper’s accommodation structure anywhere in the world.

Large amounts of fuel were required to keep the light in service, 80 tons for an average year, and upwards of 100 tons during years with severe winters. It was stockpiled on Carmel Head and brought across to the Skerries by boat. The smoke from the smouldering coals soon became a serious problem, particularly when the air was still with no breeze to remove these vapours from obscuring the glow. So frequent was this occurrence that it was not long before the Skerries’ coal grate earned for itself the reputation of being one of the worst lights in the United Kingdom.

An dramatic shot of the Skerries at night, showing not only the intensity of the main beam, but also the fixed red sector light to the left of the main tower.
(C.J. Foulds)

On 21st June 1725, 8 years after its completion, William Trench died. The ownership of the Skerries was passed to his wife Ruth, while the lease of the lighthouse passed to his daughter Anne and her husband Sutton Morgan who was subsequently to sell it for a nominal sum. The reason for this unhappy occurrence lay in the fact that the Trench family experienced difficulty with the enforcement of light dues, particularly in the port of Liverpool where the majority of traffic passing the Skerries was bound to or from. Losses were estimated at over £100 a year during the infancy of the light, which coupled with the £3,000 spent on construction, meant that for most of the 12 years preceding his death Trench was an impoverished and broken man.

Whether it was out of sympathy for his descendants or for some other reason, Trench’s family, upon presentation of the accounts for the lighthouse, were fortunate in being granted the lease of the light, together with the right to keep all the dues, in perpetuity, by an Act of Parliament of 24th June 1730. This was an exceptional act of generosity and a precedent they were later to regret, one that was to give the Skerries a unique place in lighthouse history.

It was during the coal-burning years on the Skerries that an amusing incident is related about this light. In the late 1730s the brazier was attended by a married couple who received £15 annually for their labours. One night in 1739 the keeper and his wife were busying themselves with their duties when they were interrupted by a knock at the door of their cottage. Knowing themselves to be the only inhabitants of the island they put their experience down to a trick of the wind. Upon hearing a second knock they were somewhat perturbed. The worried discussions that followed were interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal a naked negro. The wife was immediately seized by hysteria, swearing they had been visited by the devil, whereas when the truth became known, they were actually face to face with a luckless survivor of a recent shipwreck on the rocks, about which the keeper was oblivious owing to the heavy mists.

In 1759 Trench’s original tower was demolished by Sutton Morgan’s son and replaced by a new stone tower 28ft high and 22ft in diameter, together with a new jetty for landing coal. It had a new iron grate which increased its range to 15 miles. In 1778 the Skerries lighthouse became the property of Morgan Jones Snr, the High Sheriff of Cardiganshire who managed his property with particular diligence. By 1803, however, the Skerries coal fired grate was beginning to look distinctly dated compared to recent innovations in lighthouse construction and illumination. Trinity House ‘advised’ Morgan Jones – because that was all they could do – that extensive repairs and upgrades were required. Wisely, he listened to their advice.

Repainting a lighthouse on an exposed site isn’t just a case of adding an extra top coat! This rare shot shows the Skerries being repainted prior to automation which involves removing every layer of paint down to the stonework, and then repainting from scratch.
(C.J. Foulds)

The Skerries patent was amended to substitute all references to a coal fired grate with oil lamps. Samuel Wyatt was the Trinity House consulting engineer and he produced plans to raise the tower by a further 22 ft, complete with battlements along the top. Above this a proper iron-framed and glazed lantern, 12ft high, was installed, complete with 16 Argand lamps and reflectors. They gave a range of approximately 18 miles for the light and were lit for the first time on 20th February 1804.

It was also in the 19th century, particularly the early half, that trade between England and the Americas expanded considerably. So much so that, in 1834, it was calculated that the profit alone for the Skerries lighthouse, after expenses and maintenance costs had been deducted, was well over £12,500. This was due in no small part to much of this trade being conducted through the thriving port of Liverpool, causing all such vessels to pass the Skerries and therefore render themselves liable to light dues. In less than a century the coal-burning, smoke-enshrouded light which had bankrupted its builder was transformed into a highly profitable, oil-burning lantern, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Parliament.

Exactly how profitable they were not entirely sure to begin with. By 1834 the light was in the hands of another Morgan Jones who had inherited it from his father of the same name. He was reluctant to produce accounts for the light, as demanded by a Parliamentary Committee of Enquiry in that year, claiming immunity from so doing by an earlier Act passed in the days of George II. When the figures were eventually extracted from Jones, the government were staggered to find that in addition to his annual profit of over £12,000, the owner was also receiving £1,700 from them under a reciprocal agreement made during the earlier history of the light when it was incapable of recovering its own costs. Such an absurd state of affairs would not exist, Parliament said, if all lighthouses around our coasts were managed and administered by one responsible body, whose job it would be to levy a standard rate of light dues for all lighthouses. This would do away with private lighthouses whose owners were at liberty to charge whatever they thought appropriate in the circumstances, which had led to unscrupulous profiteering by the majority of these fortunate owners.

As a result of this proposal the Act of 1836 was passed, An Act for vesting lighthouses, lights and seamarks in England in the Corporation of Trinity House, which gave Trinity House the authority to purchase any remaining private lights – by compulsory purchase if necessary – and bring them under their jurisdiction. This legislation was the start of lengthy legal wranglings over the Skerries which were to further guarantee for this beacon a special place in the annals of lighthouse history.

Trinity House was naturally keen to acquire the ownership of this lucrative source of income as soon as possible, yet Morgan Jones was a resolute man who was equally determined not to part with his property without a fight, particularly as it was now earning him over £20,000 a year. He rejected offers of first £260,000, then £350,000, and lastly £399,500 for his lease. For five years Jones resisted the pressure of the Elder Brethren, taking the line that his family had been granted the right to all the light dues from the Skerries “in perpetuity” and therefore the Act of 1836 did not apply to him. He would doubtless have done so for a good deal longer had it not been for his untimely death in 1841.

Principal Keeper W.J.Hast going ashore from the Skerries lighthouse on board a Trinity House vessel.
(Caxton Press, courtesy of ALK archives)

Here was the ideal opportunity for Trinity House to take control of the light they had fought over for so long, yet the battle was not quite over. The executors of Morgan Jones, the same solicitors who had been fighting for him against Trinity House, insisted on the final settlement being decided by a jury. This was a shrewd legal move which was to reap the intended rewards. It led to a jury sitting before the High Sheriff at Beaumaris, Anglesey, on 26th July 1841, a jury who awarded to Morgan Jones’ estate the phenomenal sum of £444,984.

The fate of the Skerries lighthouse was finally sealed. From that day forward the light was maintained by Trinity House who for the privilege had to pay a vast sum, sizeable even by today’s inflated standards, yet undreamt of in 1841. The Skerries was the final private lighthouse to pass into public control and fetched a King’s ransom for doing so. The beacon which had previously gained fame in 1777 for being one of the worst lights in the United Kingdom and leaving its builder a destitute bankrupt had now sprung to prominence for the second time in its history. How Parliament must have bitterly regretted their generous decision in favour of the Trench family over a century earlier.

After automation the light flashes continuously, 24 hours a day.
(C.J. Foulds)

Within three years of their purchase Trinity House and James Walker, their consulting engineer, had started planning further improvements and modifications. In the middle of 1845 a start was made on another new tower 75ft high with a ring of even more impressive castellations around the top. A new iron lantern, 14ft in diameter and 16ft high, contained 16 Argand lamps with mirrored reflectors that were revolved by clockwork. Its light was set at 119ft above high tides, had a range of 18 miles, and was first seen on 23rd September 1846.

Apart from a continuous process of modifications and improvements in line with the technology of the day, this is the structure that is found on the Skerries today. A huge first order Fresnel lens from Chance Brothers that revolved around a new Fresnel oil lamp on a clockwork pedestal arrived in 1851, increasing its range to 21 miles. A fog horn was added in September 1876, and a new semi-circular lantern 10ft in diameter and 21ft high was attached to the south west of the existing tower in 1903. The light it contained shone a fixed red beam, visible for 14 miles over a cluster of dangerous outliers to the Skerries, although this light was discontinued in the 1980s. Electricity arrived in 1927 and automation in 1987 ending a period of 270 years of continuous manned service at the same lighthouse.

These 270 years have not been without incident, indeed ‘troubled’ might be a fair description of the history of the Skerries lighthouses. However, throughout the embittered legal complexities and the stubborn resistance of all the various parties concerned, one fact mustn’t be overlooked. The disputes surrounding its acquisition from private hands were over a lighthouse – tangible evidence of one of mankind’s more humane instincts, and a building whose sole purpose was to save lives. As such its purchase would have been justified at twice the price, for no value can be placed on the lives which have been spared because of its existence.