The revolutionary period of 1848 did not, as may well be imagined, pass without leaving its mark on the island. Strange as it may seem, the starting point of the fresh series of rebellions was the pretty Filarmonia Theatre, at Santiago de Cuba, where, some forty years ago, the fascinating Adelina Patti made her début. In the winter of 1850 General Lopez led a filibustering expedition from the United States, with the object of seizing Cuba, and proclaiming her independence. That his attempt was favoured, and even financially assisted, by many Americans, is an undoubted fact; but, unfortunately for its promoters, it was a signal failure. A number of hot-headed young men,--some of them belonging to the best families in the island--suspected of favouring Lopez and his companions, were arrested, and several were shot, without form of trial. As may well be imagined, the impression produced in the ancient capital of the Eastern Province, and indeed throughout the island, by this violent action on the part of the Spanish authorities, was profound, and the feeling soon reached such a pitch that no native-born Cuban would be seen speaking to a Spaniard. The Carnival gaieties were suspended, and the city was thrown into deep mourning. The Spaniards, resolved to mark their contempt for the islanders, gave a ball at the Filarmonia. Groups of young Cubans forced their way through the terrified dancers, and proceeded to insult and disfigure a portrait of Queen Isabella II. The confusion was terrible, and many ladies were severely hurt. Yet the incident was allowed to pass without any attempt being made to discover and punish the offenders, who, by-the-way, were masked. A few weeks afterwards, a Cuban lady of high rank and great wealth, hoping to cast oil on troubled waters, hired the same hall, and sent out invitations for a _tertullia_, to which she bade representatives of both the belligerent parties. The consequences were ghastly. The Spanish officers and the Cuban _jeunesse dorée_ found themselves, suddenly and unexpectedly, face to face. An unlucky jest, at the expense of an old Spanish officer, fired the mine, and in a moment the ball-room was in an uproar, and the scene of gaiety changed to one of combat. Ladies fainted, and were trampled under foot, chandeliers fell smashing to the ground, and the most awful and horrible confusion ensued. Five or six people were killed--amongst them a Spanish lady of distinction--and nearly a hundred persons were seriously hurt. As to the luckless hostess, she betook herself to Europe at the earliest possible opportunity, and there remained; but from that day to this the incidents at the Filarmonia Ball have never been forgotten in Cuba. Some of the young brawlers were arrested, and certain of them,--youths belonging to the richest families in the city,--were imprisoned in the Morro Castle, and thence transported to Ceuta, the Spanish penal station in Morocco, whence they never returned.