His Majesty’s Ship Royal George of 108 guns, sunk at Spithead 29th August 1782.  This gun, a 32 pounder, part of the armament of the Royal George, was fished up from the wreck of that ship by Mr. Deans, the zealous and enterprising Diver, on the 15th November 1836, and was presented by the Master-General and Board of Ordnance to General Durham of Largo, the elder Brother of Sir Philip Charles Henderson Durham, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honourable Military Order of the Bath, Knight Commander of the Most Ancient Military Order of Merit of France, Admiral of the White Squadron of Her Majesty’s Fleet, and Commander-in-Chief of the Port of Portsmouth, 1836.

Sir Philip was serving as a lieutenant in the Royal George, and was actually on duty as officer of the watch upon deck when the awful catastrophe took place.  He was providentially and miraculously saved, but nearly 900 persons perished, amongst them the brave Admiral Kempenfelt, whose flag went down with the ship.

The wreck of the Royal George was the most awful disaster that had hitherto happened to the Royal Navy.  William Cowper the poet, as soon as the sad news was brought to him, wrote a solemn poem entitled “The Loss of the Royal George,” from which it seems that Admiral Kempenfelt was in his cabin when the great ship suddenly foundered.

His sword was in its sheath,
His fingers held the pen,
When Kempenfelt went down
With twice four hundred men.

* * * * *

Toll for the brave! 
Brave Kempenfelt is gone: 
His last sea-fight is fought,
His work of glory done.

* * * * *

Toll for the brave! 
The brave that are no more. 
All sunk beneath the wave. 
Fast by their native shore!

It was nearly dark when we entered the town of Peebles, where we called at the post office for letters, and experienced some difficulty at first in obtaining lodgings, seeing that it was the night before the Hiring Fair.  We went first to the Temperance Hotel, but all the beds had been taken down to make room for the great company they expected on the morrow; eventually we found good accommodation at the “Cross Keys Inn,” formerly the residence of a country laird.

We had seen notices posted about the town informing the public that, by order of the Magistrates, who saw the evil of intoxicating drinks, refreshments were to be provided the following day at the Town Hall.  The Good Templars had also issued a notice that they were having a tea-party, for which of course we could not stay.