Chapter Eleven.

The Ancient Corporation of Trinity House of Deptford Strond.

As landmarks—because of their affording variety, among other reasons—are pleasant objects of contemplation to the weary traveller on a long and dusty road, so landmarks in a tale are useful as resting-places. We purpose, therefore, to relieve the reader, for a very brief period, from the strain of mingled fact and fiction in which we have hitherto indulged—turn into a siding, as it were—and, before getting on the main line again, devote a short chapter to pure and unmitigated fact.

So much has been said in previous chapters, and so much has yet to be said, about the lights, and buoys, and beacons which guard the shores of Old England, that it would be unpardonable as well as ungracious were we to omit making special reference to the ancient Corporation of Trinity House of Deptford Strond, under the able management of which the whole of the important work has been devised and carried into operation, and is now most efficiently maintained.

It cannot be too urgently pressed upon un-nautical—especially young—readers, that the work which this Corporation does, and the duties which it performs, constitute what we may term vital service.

It would be too much, perhaps, to say that the life of the nation depends on the faithful and wise conduct of that service, but assuredly our national prosperity is intimately bound up with it. The annual list of ships wrecked and lives lost on the shores of the kingdom is appalling enough already, as every observant reader of the newspapers must know, but if the work of the Trinity House—the labours of the Elder Brethren—were suspended for a single year—if the lights, fixed and floating, were extinguished, and the buoys and beacons removed, the writer could not express, nor could the reader conceive, the awful crash of ruin, and the terrific cry of anguish that would sweep over the land from end to end, like the besom of destruction.

We leave to hard-headed politicians to say what, or whether, improvements of any kind might be made in connection with the Trinity Corporation. We do not pretend to be competent to judge whether or not that work might be better done. All that we pretend to is a certain amount of competency to judge, and right to assert, that it is well done, and one of the easiest ways to assure one’s-self of that fact is, to go visit the lighthouses and light-vessels on the coast, and note their perfect management; the splendid adaptation of scientific discoveries to the ends they are designed to serve; the thoroughness, the cleanliness, the beauty of everything connected with the matériel employed; the massive solidity and apparent indestructibility of the various structures erected and afloat; the method everywhere observable; the perfect organisation and the steady respectability of the light-keepers—observe and note all these things, we say, and it will be impossible to return from the investigation without a feeling that the management of this department of our coast service is in pre-eminently able hands.

Nor is this to be wondered at, when we reflect that the Corporation of Trinity House is composed chiefly (the acting part of it entirely) of nautical men—men who have spent their youth and manhood on the sea, and have had constantly to watch and guard against those very rocks and shoals, and traverse those channels which it is now their duty to light and buoy. (See note 1.)

It has been sagely remarked by some philosopher, we believe—at least it might have been if it has not—that everything must have a beginning. We agree with the proposition, and therefore conclude that the Corporation of Trinity House must have had a beginning, but that beginning would appear to be involved in those celebrated “mists of antiquity” which unhappily obscure so much that men would give their ears to know now-a-days.