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By Root 727 0

a man of parts…from his study of the sea, he will respect its immense power; he will be a handiman of varying proficiency, he will be a useful cook and a good companion. A lightkeeper will not make a fortune but the odds are that he will be at peace with himself and with the world.’ For all its peculiarities, the job certainly had advantages. As the Commissioners put it in 1857, ‘From the day that a Lightkeeper enters the service he possesses a certain income, a free furnished house of a description greatly superior to that occupied by the same class in ordinary life, all repairs and taxes paid, coal, candle, clothing, land for a couple of cows or an equivalent in money. He is provided for in case of age or infirmity; and, lastly, a provision is made for his widow or family in case of death. The only thing that can deprive a Lightkeeper of these secured benefits is his own misconduct.’ Once you were a keeper, that was it; you moved steadily upwards from supernumary to assistant to principal, shifted once every few years and retired contentedly at age sixty with a civil service pension and the sea forever singing in your ear.

It was Robert Stevenson who set the standard for the keepers, and Robert’s ghost who dictated their lives for the next 200 years. He introduced the military habit of mind that characterised the service, and a set of habits and rituals that persisted well into this century. One of the practices he introduced was to spring surprise visits on the keepers. The timetable of the annual inspection voyage was usually well-known, given that Robert and the Commissioners always sailed from Leith anticlockwise round the coast in mid-summer, but the programme of new works usually meant that he made several other journeys during the year. The first the keepers would know of his arrival was the lighthouse ship slipping around the edge of a nearby headland and Robert stamping up the pathway to the tower. Several of the keepers were caught comprised by his visits, either still asleep, or with undusted lanterns and unwashed crockery. When he did find something amiss Robert was a ruthless judge, with a bloodhound’s nose for trouble or dust. After reprimanding the keeper at Kinnaird Head for his idle housekeeping, he confessed, ‘It is the most painful thing that can occur for me to have a correspondence of this kind with any of the keepers, and when I come to the Light House instead of having the satisfaction to meet them with approbation…it is distressing when one is obliged to put on an angry countenance’ and demeanour. But from such culpable negligence as you have shown, particularly of late, there is no avoiding it.’ Slow deliveries, shoddy habits, cheap workmanship and idle practice all goaded Robert into an almost peevish rage. Even the weather, when it delayed or hampered his progress, was rebuked for its intransigence.

All the keepers were expected to be as virtuous in private as they were in public. As a profession, they were instructed to be ‘sober and industrious, cleanly in their persons and linens, and orderly in their families’. Evidently it was no good hiring someone, however dutiful they might appear, if there was a risk of them being drunk, lazy or dishonest while on duty. ‘I hold it as a fixed maxim,’ Robert wrote to one disobedient keeper, ‘which I have often put to the test of experience, that where a man, or a Family put on a slovenly appearance, in their houses, stairs and lanterns, I always find this; Reflectors, Burners, Windows and Light in general ill attended to; and therefore I must insist on cleanliness throughout.’ By the plaintive tone of much of Robert’s questioning – why had he not received reports from each keeper? Why had they not written as instructed? How was the new glass withstanding the weather? Were they keeping the wicks correctly? – it was evident that many of the keepers lay as low as possible to avoid the Stevenson whirlwind. At times, Robert’s attitude took generous forms, such as his lobbying for better staff pensions, but it could also appear meddlesome, since Robert was