An unsuccessful effort has been made to obtain reliable information as to the number and description of the houses Pensacola contained in its most thriving days during Governor Chester’s administration. But the only account we have, is that of William Bertram, who though reputed an eminent botanist is hardly reliable, for he describes Governor Chester’s residence as a “stone palace, with a cupola built by the Spaniards;”[17] and yet, according to the description of the town in Captain Will’s report, at the close of Spanish rule, it consisted of “forty huts and barracks, surrounded by a stockade;” and he witnessed at that time, the exodus of the entire Spanish population. Besides, persons whose memories went back within thirty years of Governor Chester’s alleged palatial residence, neither saw, nor even heard, of the ruins of such a structure. Upon the same authority rests the statement, that the Governor had a farm to which he took morning rides in “his chariot.”[18] But a traveler whose fancy was equal to the transformation of a hut into a palace, may have transformed his excellency’s modest equipage into a more courtly vehicle. It is probable, however, that although Governor Chester was not the occupant of a stone palace with a cupola, he lived in a sightly and comfortable dwelling built of brick or wood, or perhaps of both. One such dwelling of his time, that of William Panton, was familiar, forty years ago to the elders of this generation. It stood near the business house of Panton, Leslie & Co. Taking its style and solidity as a guide, there existed several houses in the town within the last half century that could be identified as belonging to Governor Chester’s day. One of them was the scene of a tragedy; a husband cutting a wife’s throat fatally, his own more cautiously, or perhaps her cervical vertibrae had taken off the edge of the razor, for he survived. Thereafter, none would inhabit it, and consequently it rapidly went to ruin. It stood on the north side of Government street, a block and a half from Palafox. A jury acquitted him. Why? No one could conjecture, unless because she was his wife, and therefore his chattel, like the cow or sheep of a butcher. In Governor Chester’s time there existed a large double story suburban residence, which was a distinguished feature in the landscape looking southwesterly from Fort George, or from any part of the Bay. It stood on the bluff between the now Perdido R. R. and Bayou Chico. Painted white, it became the “white house” of the English, and “Casa Blanca” of the Spanish dominion.