life and lavish expenditure. Signor C., the husband of my beautiful friend, was one of the most distinguished planters for affluence, magnificent liberality, and beneficence. He was one day dining with a neighbour; the hour of his return arrived, and his volante, drawn by three magnificent horses, drove up to the house; the guests on this rose to the windows to see the horses of Signor C., which were celebrated for their beauty.
“Ah! how happy I should be if I were possessed of such horses,” exclaimed one lady, as the splendid creatures advanced to the door at full trot.
“Madame! Ils sont à vous,” said the polite Spaniard.
Terrified at the consequence of her thoughtless exclamation, the lady wished to refuse. It was of no use. Signor C. ordered the horses to be immediately taken out of the carriage, and borrowing a pair from his friend, returned home. There was nothing for it but that the lady must retain the valuable gift. Such was the luxury and such the spirit which prevailed in the flourishing times of this coffee plantation. The depreciation of coffee as an article of commerce, and two hurricanes in succession, have changed the state of things in this part of the island. In the last which occurred, in the year 1848, the house of Madame C. was levelled to the ground, and books and pictures which have since been dug out, were drenched and destroyed by salt water, which during the hurricane was driven upon the island. It is said that the ground is still sick from this dreadful tempest, and that the trees and plants have not yet recovered their former vigour. Many large trees, and among these a magnificent ceiba, lie still in the pasture meadows, prostrate on the ground. In the garden, however, all is again in the most beautiful luxuriance, and the lovely aviary contains a number of rare birds. The house, which was rebuilt by Sidney S. for his mother, by the help of the negroes alone, is one of the most lovely which I have seen in Cuba; so
