Upon the arrival of despatches from London the ‘Bellerophon’ got under weigh for Plymouth Sound on the 26th of July.  This movement tended still further to disconcert the ex-Emperor and his followers.  In passing the breakwater Bonaparte could not withhold his admiration of that work, which he considered highly honourable to the public spirit of the nation, and, alluding to his own improvements at Cherbourg, expressed his apprehensions that they would now be suffered to fall into decay.

Captain Maitland was directed by Lord Keith to observe the utmost vigilance to prevent the escape of his prisoners, and with this view no boat was permitted to approach the Bellerophon; the ‘Liffey’ and ‘Eurotas’ were ordered to take up an anchorage on each side of the ship, and further precautions were adopted at night.

On the 27th of July Captain Maitland proceeded to Lord Keith, taking with him Bonaparte’s original letter to the Prince Regent, which, as General Gourgaud had not been permitted to deliver it personally, Napoleon now desired to be transmitted through the hands of the Admiral.  As Lord Keith had now received instructions from his Government as to the manner in which Napoleon was to be treated, he lost no time in paying his respects to the fallen chief.

On the 31st of July the anxiously-expected order of the English Government arrived.  In this document, wherein the ex-Emperor was styled “General Bonaparte,” it was notified that he was to be exiled to St. Helena, the place of all others most dreaded by him and his devoted adherents.  It was, moreover, specified that he might be allowed to take with him three officers, and his surgeon, and twelve servants.  To his own selection was conceded the choice of these followers, with the exclusion, however, of Savary and Lallemand, who were on no account to be permitted any further to share his fortunes.  This prohibition gave considerable alarm to those individuals, who became excessively anxious as to their future disposal, and declared that to deliver them up to the vengeance of the Bourbons would be a violation of faith and honour.

Napoleon himself complained bitterly on the subject of his destination, and said, “The idea, of it is horrible to me.  To be placed for life on an island within the tropics, at an immense distance from any land, cut off from all communication with the world, and everything that I hold dear in it!—­c’est pis que la cage de fer de Tamerlan.  I would prefer being delivered up to the Bourbons.  Among other insults,” said he,—­“but that is a mere bagatelle, a very secondary consideration—­they style me General!  They can have no right to call me General; they may as well call me `Archbishop,’ for I was Head of the Church as well as of the Army.  If they do not acknowledge me as Emperor they ought as First Counsul; they have sent ambassadors to me as such; and your King, in his letters, styled me ‘Brother.’  Had they confined me in the Tower of London, or one of the fortresses in England (though not what I had hoped from the generosity of the English people), I should not have so much cause of complaint; but to banish me to an island within the tropics!  They might as well have signed my death-warrant at once, for it is impossible a man of my habit of body can live long in such a climate.”