Saints and Angels
The First Bell Rock Keepers

I hail from the town of Dalkeith and cutler was my trade
Till one night when much the worse for drink an error I had made
That robbed me of my freedom and my masters of their lad.
Unworn was my glove that carried my indenture seal
To prevent the pressgang in their over zeal
To place the Kings shilling firmly in my hand
And drag me from my revelry and from my native land

It was Navy swords and cutlasses that I was put to task
Amongst other shipboard duties on the frigate “Ravenglass”
We sailed what seemed the seven seas looking for our foe
For months on end and no sight of land to rectify my tale of woe
Then one day we encountered her; a Frenchman twice our size
Our Captain’s foolish bravery sought to take her for a prize.
With twice our crew it soon was us that met with their demise

We would languish in some Marseille gaol
Till an exchange could be arranged
Afore disease should shake from us our mortal coil
Nelson and Trafalgar had made prisoners a plenty
On “Resolute” we could recoup and homeward bound for bounty
Freedom came at such a price for I had lost my favour
My apprenticeship had lapsed with time the masters would not honour

So work was hard to come by without the right credentials
Another source for income was becoming quite essential
I might have to sign on a merchantman and return unto the sea
and several in the Port of Leith do vie
I read on Public notice they are looking for a crew
To man a lighthouse off Arbroath, “Now there is something new!”
I’ll chance my hand and go and take a view

I’m not a salty sailor and like to stand up steady
And given what their looking for, I think that I am ready
So following up instructions I find I’m in a queue
Old salts and landlubbers alike who want to join the crew.
I am on a short list, getting shorter by the day
As one by one the candidates fall along the way
Leaving two with letters of appointment to take away

Now that I’m selected to the “Pharos” I must go
To meet with Captain Reid who will show us what to do
He is Captain of the Pharos and Principal of the Light
That is now called the Bell Rock and he will take us to the site
It is all but finished and soon we’ll be on right
Taking months to learn our trade as Keepers of the light.
Then on our own to face the tempests of North Sea’s might

I have no fear inside it though battered she may be
For sturdy is she crafted to face the heavy sea
Even in depth of winter when met by howling gales
The wind and waves may thunder like the sound of massive drums
Crashing in to her skirts then swelling once again
With cascades of water washing over her in our shelter from the storm
We find more than comfortable in the dry and in the warm

Each night in turn we light the light and keep the mechanics turning
A constant vigil we must take to ensue the light is burning
By day the reflectors must be cleaned and wicks trimmed neat and tidy
The stairwells swept and all the rooms till they are bright and shiny
But if the fog that haunts these parts ventures too close to the Bell
Then the machinery that turns the reflector will sound a bell as well.
Thank the Lord its on the outside or we’d be deafened by the pall.

The bunk-beds come in tiers of three and arch to follow wall
But better than a hammocks rest as it swings from fall to fall
Our Principal sleeps in another room with beds enough to spare
For engineering visitors the machinery for to care
I share a room with Assistant number one
He sleeps in the top bunk with the empty in between
The watches that we keep at night means seldom is he seen

So I do not hear his snores while our watch keeps us apart
But summer days grow longer while our watches get so short
With less than eight of darkness his grunts keep me awake
So in the comfort of the galley, I prepare our bread to bake
skills in the art of cooking from naval service have been honed
and I would rather cook our food than the reflectors go and clean
Both Captain and our Number one prefer my fare to theirs


The Nation is still at war with France so protection we must take
Just in case some mischief on this lighthouse they undertake
They would hardly try and sink her with a broadside from their guns
The noise would alert the neighbours and then they’d have to run
Tis more likely that they’d board us and take away our light
Leaving unsuspecting mariners once more to face their plight
they would send boarding party in the darkness of the night

My cutlers skills were not in vain as cutlass blades prove true
With a brace of loaded pistols and all are in plain view
Ready to repel boarders that break the iron door
After climbing thirty feet of ladder just to reach the platform floor
We will fight them on the stairwell till their bodies block the path
While one reloads the pistols the other will make the mass
No Frenchmen ever came to put us to the test

We take a few days respite but taken when we can
More often in the summer when the mail boat it can land
But I have grown to love the place and there is nothing at all ashore
So I give my leave to Captain Reid so his wife he can see more
Leaving number one in charge in that I do not mind
For he’s another gentleman and one that’s hard to find
Even if his snores are loud I am the forgiving kind

As years go by and the service grows by lighthouse and by crews
It has been decided that our manning should change too
We should all have fair relief, both married and those single
So we can live a normal life like our shore bound compatriots do
In that event I must take my leave though I’ve no wish to mingle
I’m a stranger in my hometown and have nowhere I can go
My home is on the Bell Rock my only family is there too

I have saved a pretty penny and I’m told I must retire
While I retain my health there is simply no desire
But a letter comes that bids me well and thanks me for my time
For devotion in their service I am thwarted in my prime
My bags are packed and ready for the mail boat to arrive
I’m a broken hearted Keeper without the will to stay alive
I stride into oblivion … … …