316 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 



my relations and the old friends who once loved and 

 still love me tenderly." 



On the day succeeding that on which I took my 

 photographs, some of the tiles above the dormer win- 

 dows were shaken down by an earthquake. Around 

 the house are cocoa and mango trees, sapadillos and 

 avocado pears ; but none are left of the majestic palms 

 that are said to have surrounded the dwelling. The 

 quiet beauty of the place, the gentle manners of Mon- 

 sieur Mareschal, the proprietor, and the historic asso- 

 ciations of the valley, all combined to form an attraction 

 not to be resisted, and I begged permission to stay 

 a while. My new friend readily acceded, but hesi- 

 tated to offer me the only accommodations the estate 

 afforded, a room in the negro barracks ; but I assured 

 him that I had camped in worse places, and before 

 nine o'clock that night I was established. My room 

 was very small, but in it Madame Mareschal had 

 placed an iron camp-bedstead and a chair, and to it 

 my faithful John had removed my effects. It was in 

 the center of a long, low structure, built against the 

 garden wall, once used as quarters for the servants 

 when the estate was in nourishing circumstances. 

 Right and left of me were negro families ; but 

 of their dirt and noise, and kind attentions, I will 

 not speak. For ten days I stayed there, having a 

 seat at my friend's table, and sleeping at night in the 

 barracks. 



Over the hills which surrounded the valley on every 

 side I rambled, with a little negro as guide, and ex- 

 plored many a nook, that, if it could speak, would tell 

 delightful stories of the historic past. Of the many 

 pleasant days passed there, let me give a description 



