‘One would think,’ continues Dr. Franklin, with exquisite humour, ‘that it was now time to try some other trick. Ours is recommended, whatever the able French philosopher may say to the contrary, by more than twelve years’ experience, during which, among the great number of houses furnished with iron rods in North America, not one so guarded has been materially hurt by lightning, and many have been evidently preserved by their means; while a number of houses, churches, barns, ships, &c., in different places, unprovided with rods, have been struck and greatly damaged, demolished, or burnt. Probably, the vestries of English churches are not generally well acquainted with these facts; otherwise, since as good Protestants they have no faith in the blessing of bells, they would be less excusable in not providing this other security for their respective churches, and for the good people that may happen to be assembled in them during a tempest, especially as these buildings, from their greater height, are more exposed to the stroke of lightning than our common dwellings.’
While Franklin thus wrote of ‘the great number of houses furnished with iron rods in North America,’ there was not a single public building so protected in England. Several private persons had adopted them for their houses, following the example of Dr. William Watson--subsequently Sir William--vice-president of the Royal Society, who had been the first to set up a lightning conductor in England, erecting one over his cottage at Payneshill, near London, in 1762. But notwithstanding the evident utility of the ‘Franklin rods,’ they were refused where they were most wanted--for larger buildings, and particularly for churches. The ‘unlearned men, such as commonly compose our church vestries,’ openly declared against them, and among the clergy there was a steady, if often silent, antagonism to their introduction. The first movement towards its being upset was given by an occurrence which caused much commotion, and gave rise to a vast amount of discussion. On Sunday, June 18, 1764, a few minutes before three in the afternoon, the splendid steeple of St. Bride’s Church, in the city of London, one of the architectural monuments of Sir Christopher Wren, was struck by lightning, the flash being intensely vivid, blinding several people. The damage done was so serious that about ninety feet of the steeple had to be taken down entirely, while great and expensive repairs were required for the rest. Dr. Watson, as the first introducer, so one of the chief promoters of Franklin’s invention in England, took this opportunity of publishing in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ a detailed account of the effects of lightning upon St. Bride’s steeple, explaining the potency of conductors in the very action of the electric force. He showed how the lightning first struck the metallic weathercock at the top of the steeple, and ran down, without injuring anything, the large iron bars by which it was supported. At the bottom of the bars, the electric force shattered a number of huge stones into fragments, to make its way to some other pieces of iron, inserted into the walls to give them strength. So it went on till there were no more metals, when havoc and destruction became the greatest. Thus, as Dr. Watson conclusively proved, the beautiful steeple of St. Bride was wilfully made over to ruin for want of a few hundred yards of iron, or other metal, which would lead the electric force harmlessly from the weathercock on the summit into the earth. He finished by telling in the plainest terms, to all on whom devolved the duty of taking care of churches, that it was neglectful, even to criminality, not to protect them by conductors against the always imminent danger of being struck by lightning.