cendingly stands
looking at them through a spyglass. There are two frigates, one on
each side of us, the Eurotas and Liffey, and their boats are
constantly rowing about the ship to keep off the boats. We prisoners
have no other amusement than to look at them contending for places. I
hope we will soon be allowed to go ashore, as I want to see Captain
Sandys. You must be tired reading this long epistle. We took some
prizes, one ship laden with Buonaparte's soldiers, one chasse maree
laden with resin, and the Cephulus man-of-war brig sent in a West
Indiaman laden with sugar, coffee, &c. from Martinique bound to
France, and for which we will share by mutual agreements. Give my
affectionate love to Ally, Anne, Wilhelmina, Sophia and Jane. I know
the want of not being near them as my shirts are going to pieces, as
soon as I can afford the sum I will get some new ones. I have the old
number the same as when I left you and bought none since.... I remain,
my dear mother, your affectionate son,

EPHRAIM GRAEBKE.

_P.S._--I think myself very lucky to belong to the old Bellerophon at
this important time. Lose no time in answering this letter.

Mrs GRAEBKE,
MIDLETON, CO. CORK.

III.

Extracts from _Memoirs of an Aristocrat, and Reminiscences of the
Emperor Napoleon, by a Midshipman of the Bellerophon_ [George Home].
London, Whittaker & Co., and Bell & Bradfute, Edinburgh, 1838.

About six in the morning, the look-out man at the mast-head announced
a large ship of war standing direct in for the roadstead, which
Captain Maitland, suspecting to be the Superb, bearing the flag of
Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, he gave immediate orders to hoist out the
barge, and dispatched her, under the command of the first lieutenant,
to the French brig, being apprehensive that if the Admiral arrived
before the brig got out, that Napoleon would deliver himself up to the
Admiral instead of us, and thus have lost us so much honour.

As our barge approached, the brig hove to, and from the moment she
came alongside, we watched every motion with deep anxiety. Like all
Napoleon's movements, he was not slow even in this, his last free act.
The barge had not remained ten minutes alongside, before we saw the
rigging of the brig crowded with men, persons stepping down the side
into the boat, and the next moment she shoved off, and gave way for
the ship; while the waving of the men's hats in the r