His nephew set out to bring the good man home in triumph.

He found him dying in a wretched Portuguese inn.

Chacon heard that his honour was cleared at last, and so gave up the ghost.
Thus ended--as Earth's best men have too often ended--the good Don Alonzo Chacon.

His only monument in the island is one, after all, 'aere perennius;' namely, that most beautiful flowering shrub which bears his name; Warsewiczia, some call it; others, Calycophyllum: but the botanists of the island continue loyally the name of Chaconia to those blazing crimson spikes which every Christmas-tide renew throughout the wild forests, of which he would have made a civilised garden, the memory of the last and best of the Spanish Governors.
So Trinidad became English; and Picton ruled it, for a while, with a rod of iron.
I shall not be foolish enough to enter here into the merits or demerits of the Picton case, which once made such a noise in England.

His enemies' side of the story will be found in M'Callum's Travels in Trinidad; his friends' side in Robinson's Life of Picton, two books, each of which will seem, I think, to him who will read them alternately, rather less wise than the other.