“About a fortnight after this, a pleasure party was made up by the royal family and nobility for an excursion on the water, and the barge, with Nelson and the lady, took the lead. It was a beautiful sight to see the gilded galleys with their silken canopies and bright pennons flashing in the sun, and reflecting their glittering beauties on the smooth surface of the clear blue waters, whilst the measured sweep of the oars kept time with the sweet sounds of music. Not a cloud veiled the sky, scarcely a breath curled the transparent crest of the gentle billow; all was gayety, and mirth, and laughter. “After pulling for several miles about the bay, we were returning towards the shore, when a curious-looking dark object,--something like a ship’s buoy, appeared floating a-head of the barge. The bowmen were ordered to lay-in their oars, and see what it was; so the oars were laid in, and they stood ready with their boat-hooks, the coxswain steering direct on to it. As soon as the barge was near enough, the bowmen grappled it with their boat-hooks, but in an instant their hold was loosened again, and ‘A dead body! a dead body!’ was uttered in a suppressed tone by both. The boat held on her way, and as the corpse passed astern, the face turned towards the lady and showed the well-remembered countenance of poor Caraccioli. Yes, as the officer had said, ‘the ocean had been his grave;’ but that grave had given up its dead, and the lady seldom smiled afterwards. “Nelson hailed one of the cutters that were in attendance, and directed that the body should be taken on board and receive the funeral ceremonies suitable to the rank which the unfortunate prince had held whilst living. The music ceased its joyous sounds for notes of melancholy wailing, and the voice of mirth was changed to lamentation and sadness. “Years passed away, and Nelson fell in the hour of victory; but the lady, ah! her end was terrible. The murdered prince was ever present to her mind; and as she lay upon her death-bed, like a stranded wreck that would never more spread canvass to the breeze, her groans, her shrieks were still on Caraccioli. ‘I see him!’ she would cry, ‘there, there!--look at his white locks and his straining eye-balls! England,--England is ungrateful, or this would have been prevented! But I follow--I follow!’--and then she would shriek with dismay and hide herself from sight. But she is gone, your honour, to give in her dead-reckoning to the Judge of all. She died in a foreign land, without one real friend to close her eyes; and she was buried in a stranger’s grave, without one mourner to weep upon the turf which covered her remains.”