to have been placed at the entrance to
the Hellespont; but of greater notoriety was the large tower on the
island of Pharos, off Alexandria, which was so ingeniously constructed
that it has been a model for many a modern lighthouse. Some incredible
stories are told about this light, which, it is said, could be seen
over the sea for a distance of thirty-four miles! Edrisi thus
describes it:--"This pharos has not its like in the world for skill of
construction and solidity. It is built of excellent stones, of the
kind called Kedan, the layers of which are united by molten lead, and
the joints are so adherent that the whole is indissoluble, though the
waves of the sea from the north incessantly beat against it. This
edifice is singularly remarkable, as much on account of its height as
of its massiveness: it is of exceeding utility, because its fire burns
night and day for the guidance of navigators, and is visible at the
distance of a day's sail. During the night, it shines like a star: by
day, you may distinguish its smoke."
There was a remarkable pharos built at Ostia by the Emperor Claudius,
which was erected on an artificial breakwater. Then there was the
light of Puteoli, which, in the far-away days of Rome, was of service
to the seamen who were seeking to enter the port. Augustus, who
provided the harbour of Ravenna, enriched it with a light. Charybdis
and Scylla had also their warning beacon, and Caprera too lifted its
light to save ancient vessels from destruction. There was also the
Timian Tower, which was erected for navigators, but its design was
frustrated by wreckers, who lighted other fires, in order to mislead
the seamen, and lure them to ruin and death.
There was a very ancient and remarkable light at Boulogne. It was said
to have been first built by the Emperor Caligula, in order to
perpetuate the victories he meant to win. It became, however, of great
service as a lighthouse-tower, and it is thought that, as early as the
year A.D. 191, it flashed a friendly light across the sea. Time,
however, and the repeated assaults of foes, robbed it of its strength
and glory. The men of Boulogne allowed it to perish, and then thought
they were free of all obligation. The case, however, was tried in
court, and they were sentenced either to restore it, or pay two
thousand herrings, delivered fresh and dry every year. Very early,
indeed, there was a light-tower in our own land, on the cliff at Dover,
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