whittles down Nelson's share of the responsibility by putting the
whole blame on them. But who can read the gruesome story of the trial
and hanging of the aged Prince Carraciolli without feeling ashamed
that a fellow-countryman in Nelson's position should have stamped his
career with so dark a crime? At the capitulation of St. Elmo,
Carraciolli made his escape. He commanded a Neapolitan warship called
the _Tancredi_, and had fought in Admiral Hotham's action on the 14th
March, 1795, and gained distinction, accompanying the Royal Family to
Palermo. He was given permission by the King to return for the purpose
of protecting his large property. The French had entered Neapolitan
territory and seized his estates, on the ground that he was a
Royalist, and the only way he could recover them was by agreeing to
take command of the Neapolitan fleet. The French were obliged to
evacuate the country, and left their friends to settle matters for
themselves as best they could. Carraciolli concealed himself, but was
discovered in disguise and put on board the _Foudroyant_ with his
hands tied behind his back. Captain Hardy, who was a man with a heart,
was indignant when he saw the old man subjected to such gross
indignity, and immediately ordered his hands to be liberated.

Nelson committed him for trial, which commenced at ten o'clock, and at
twelve he was declared guilty. At five o'clock he was hanged at the
yardarm of the Neapolitan frigate _Minerva_. This poor old man was
tried solely by his enemies without being allowed to have counsel or
call witnesses. A miscreant called Count Thurn, a worse enemy than
all, presided over the court. Carraciolli asked Lieutenant Parkinson
to obtain for him a new trial. Nelson, who had ordered the first,
could not or would not grant a second. Carraciolli asked to be shot,
and this also was refused. On the grounds of former association, he
sought the aid of Lady Hamilton, but she, being an approving party to