The strains of 'God save the King' from the flagship woke me to the day, and an hour later we were riding along the gum-tree avenue into the town. The quaint little town was named after Governor Simon Van der Stel; before that it was called False Bay, or the Bay of Falso. Here for five months, beginning with March, the ships from Table Bay would anchor, while for five months Table Bay was given over to intolerable gales. A traveller of the eighteenth century describes the town: 'Close to the shore of the Bay there are a number of warehouses, in which the provisions are deposited for the use of the East India Company's ships. A very beautiful hospital has been erected here for the crews, and a commodious house for the Governor, who usually comes hither and spends a few days while the ships are lying in the Bay. Commerce draws hither also a great number of individuals from the Cape, who furnish the officers with lodgings. While the latter are here the Bay is exceedingly lively, but as soon as the season permits them to heave up their anchors, it becomes a desert; everyone decamps, and the only inhabitants are a company of the garrison, who are relieved every two months. The vessels which arrive then and have need of provisions are in a dismal situation, for it often happens that the warehouse has been so much drained that it is necessary to bring from Cape Town in carts whatever these new-comers are in want of, and the carriage usually costs an exorbitant price. The hire of a paltry cart is from twenty to thirty dollars a day; I have known of fifty paid for one, and it is to be observed that they can only make one journey in the twenty-four hours.' [Illustration: SIMONSTOWN MOUNTAINS, WITH CAPE POINT AND ROMAN ROCK LIGHTHOUSES] We can nowadays, for the exorbitant price of something more than a dollar, run up to Cape Town in less than an hour; but I have heard from not too ancient inhabitants wonderful stories of not too long ago of how, packed like sardines, parties would drive from Town to Simonstown to dance on a gunboat and home again in the dawn, with some danger of the wrong tide over the Fish Hoek beach, or of the bad road to Wynberg. In an old book of travels I find the _raison d'être_ for the name given to the 'Roman' Rock: 'The finest fish are caught here, and particularly the Rooman (or Rooiman), that gives its name to the Roman Rock, in the neighbourhood of which it is found in great abundance.' The Commander of old Simonstown died a millionaire, and his illegal dealings seem to have been well known and discussed, as all the writers of this time and later speak of it. He had the rank of 'under merchant,' and carried on a trade with the foreign vessels, reselling necessaries at enormous profit.... 'Mr. Trail (a great rogue),' writes Anne Barnard to Melville.