Passing southwards from the Farne, the next lighthouse of which there is anything like ancient mention is Tynemouth; probably the monks at this important northern offshoot from St. Alban’s Abbey had shown a light from their priory, and when we first hear of the lighthouse there in the seventeenth century it was in great ruin. At Flamborough Head we have Camden’s authority for saying that the name was derived from a Roman pharos there; but there is no evidence of a mediaeval lighthouse at this spot, and before coming to one of these we must pass on to the Spurn Point, at the mouth of the Humber. Here a lighthouse was erected in 1427, under circumstances which are in themselves interesting and romantic; so, in accordance with a promise in the first chapter, I will tell the story somewhat in detail. The coast between Flamborough Head and the Wash has undergone very remarkable changes within historic times: the old chroniclers record very frequent inundations of the low-lying lands, and finally the entire washing away of a thriving port-town which sent a couple of members to Parliament. Its destruction—so the chroniclers say—was due to the extreme ungodliness of the inhabitants, who, such as escaped a watery grave, fled higher up the Humber to the then insignificant village of Hull, and soon raised it into a centre of commercial activity. These folk did very well, and, we will hope, lived to repent of their former wickedness; but how about the poor wretches who had been carried into eternity unrepentant? This was the thought that weighed on the pious mind of a monk at Meaux Abbey, and so strongly did it impress him that he determined to leave his brethren and lead a hermit’s life near the submerged town, spending his days in prayer for the perished souls.