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VOLUME I. THE INDEPENDENT. SATURDAY, JILY 5,1873. Published Weekly at $9 00 per Annum In Advance. Single Copies 5 rente. [Paris Correspondence London Times.] THE NEWEST LITERARY SENSATION Itcmtnlacrnet’s of General Ln. It is pleasant to turn for a moment from political intrigues to a more genial tuul Snerally attractive topic. A memoir of e Confederate General, Robert E. Lee. which commences in {lie June number of the Reve deg Ihettx Mcmdeg, is just now in everybody’s hands. It possesses special interest as proceeding from the pen of his taephew’s wife. Mrs. Blanche Lee Childe has done graceful justice to her uncle’s memory, and has produced a life-like and most agreeable portrait of one of the ablest soldiers and fittest characters that have il lustrated the, as yet, brief history of the United States. General Lee's life; may be summed up in the one word which it is the pride of the Anglo-Saxon race to set above every other motive, and which will eter nally remain associated with the memory of Nelson and Wellington. That word ts "Duty.” No man was ever more devoted to its performance than Robert E. Leo, however mistaken may be thought by inauy his interpretation of it. Asa youth, at the military school of West Point, the non of Light-horse Harry made himself re msirked, not only by his intelligence but by the rectitude of his sentiments, the rigidity of his principles, ami his severity towards himself. His sobriety was re markable; he never drank wine, never smoked, and was never heard to swear. He had all the sifnplicity of heart, the self denial, the patient endurance that qualify a man to become n great commander, to share the fatigues of the humblest soldier, and to win every heart while so doing. No man was ever more respected and be loved by ail who were brought in contact with him, whe.ther as subordinates or su periors. "It were better the army lost all its officers, myself included, than Hold. E. Lee,” old General Scott used to say of the young engineer officer who served with him as chief of that arm of the Mexican campaign. The outbreak of the civil war was a mo ment of agonizing trial to Lee. Alone among the great Southern States, Virginia long held aloof from secession, and it was only when called upon by Lincoln to furnish her contingent to the army then forming to subdue "rebel” States that, she cast in her lot with the South. Scott did his ut termost to keep Lee with the North. He hud long looked upon him as his natural successor ;he sent him a Colonel’s com mission and proposed him to the Govern ment us General of Brigade. Every per sonal consideration combined to enlist him on the side of the North. He was wealthy, for his wife was the adopted grand-daughter of Washington, and the heiress to most of his property; this con nection with thegreat launder!,! tie- Cajon, who hud been his father's intimate friend, his own high position in the country, the personal consideration he enjoyed, every thing concurred to insure him a brilliant career if he served the North. But one motive was stronger than all of these. A horn Virginian, his affection for his native State rendered him inflexible. “My husband has wept tears of blood over this terrible war,” wrote Mrs. Lee to a friend; "still he must, as a man and a Virginian, share the destinies of his State, which has pronounced for independence.” Mrs. Childe quotes a letter written by Lee to his sister, then ill in one of the Northern States, in which he expresses his perplexity and gives the reason of his decision. Home of its passagas are very touching. "I know that you will blame me,” he says, “but I ask you to think of me with all the indulgence you can, and to be convinced that 1 have struggled to do that which I believed to be my duty.” On that very day, the 20th of April, 1861, three days after Virginia had seceded, resisting all temptations and prepared for every sacri fice, Lee sent in his resignation to Gen. ,Scott. He was far from approving the re volt of the Southern States. "Had I mil lions of slaves,” he said to Montgomery Blair, sent to offer to him the verbal com mand in nominal subordination to Scott, "I would sacrifice them to the Union, but how can I draw my sword against Virginia, where I was bom TANARUS” The memoir that follows is more inter esting than the best romance, and espe cially striking and characteristic are the sketches it contains of Lee himself and of Stonewall Jackson, one of the most eccen tric and original figures which appeared upon the scene of that long war. Pro fessor at the military school of Lexington, early in the wur he was sent with the rank of Colonel to command an infantry bri gade. The appearance of the new Colonel had upon his soldiers as strange an effect as when at Lexington it excited the mirth of the cadets. There was nothing of the commanding officer in his appearance. His uniform was that of a private soldier, without lace, and ill put on; but his ab sent air, his awkwardness and reserve, pro voked a smile. On horseback he looked still worse; he rode with his stirrups too short, and his movements were most un graceful. Such was the strange being who was soon to become the idol of his sol diers, and whose name, associated with that of his famous Ist Brigade, will live forever in the annals of the war.” In ac tion, with the light of battle in his eyes, Jackson was transfigured. When he was not marching or fighting he was praying. Both at Lexington and in camp, we are told, his habits of prayer and meditation took up a largo portion of his time. His confidence in Lee was unbounded. “That man is a phenomenon,” he said. "He is the only man in the world I would follow blindfold.” There was great affection be tween them, never troubled by the slight est jealously, a sentiment unknown to those two great and earnest soldiers. Lee loved to attribute all their successes to Jackson, and would scarcely give him orders, be cause, he said, Jackson knew as well as he did what ought to be done. When Jack son fell at Chancellorsville, struck down in the darkness by his own soldiers, and when Lee learnt how severe were his wounds, which he had not at first known, he sent a messengeu to him. “Tell him,” he said, “that I have prayed to God for him all this night more earnestly than ever I did for myself,” and then, turning to those about him in tones of despair, he exclaimed, "Jackson must not, cannot die!” The last words of Jackson were, "Let Hill prepare for action”' and then. THE INDEPENDENT. with a smile, "Let us cross the river and repose in the shade of the trees. ” There is something exceedingly touch ing in Mrs. Childe’s description of General Lee’s latter years. Ruined by the war, his property ravaged and confiscated, he passed them us President of Lexington College, at a salary much inferior to the one offered him, and working with the earnestness and self-devotion that marked every act of his life to restore the Virginian military school—founded bv the English in 1741), tmd endowed by V ashington—to the prosperity it had lost in consequence of the w-ar. Hunter, the Federal leader, noted in that contest for his ravages of Confederate territory, hud converted the college into a heap of ruins. "I have a mission to fulfil,” said Lee. "I have led the young men of she South under fire; I have seen many of them fall beneath my flag; I will now devote the rest of my life to make those who are entrusted to me men of duty." The same note, unchanged by years. He had his reward. When he went to Lexington he found the college desorb'd, resourceless,disorganized,ruined; when he left it, summoned to a better life, in October, IH7O, it was rich, flourishing and full of pupils. His work was done, and he departed in peace. [From the Atlanta Herald.] A Story of the War. We had in our command a Presbyterian minister. Ho was Captain of one of the best drilled and best disciplined companies in the regiment. He was a man of high personal courage; amiable but firm dispo sition, and very popular with the entire command. He had the respect of his su periors, and the love and obedience of his inferiors. Prompt in the discharge of every duty, his example was not lost, on his company; and no matter how long and weary the march, Captain K’s company was never known to straggle. In battle they were always selected for the post of danger, and in the hottest of every fight lie was always at the front encouraging his men to deeds of valor. When the buttle was over Captain K. ! was found at the side of the wounded, giv i ing them not only temporal hut spiritual comfort, receiving their lust words for ! home, and carefully superintending their burial. In camps on Sunday morning he could he seen with bible and hymn-book, i expounding the joys of salvation. Duty was the guiding star of this man’s life. Hi left the pulpit to serve his country, and from tin; first day that he entered the army until the close of the unhappy strug gle the South had no truer or more de vote,d follower. It, wus not. singular, there fore, that Captain IC. should always have been selected on occasions which required nerve and judgment in their execution, and the following is one of the most re markable that occurred during the whole wur; The Federal army wits at Nashville, un der the command of Gen. Buell. The Con federate forces were near Murfreesboro. ‘ Captain lv’s command was on the front at a place known as Black's Shop. For sev i oral weeks there hail been a lull in the movements of both armies. Gen. Bragg 1 was very anxious to get information from Buell's army. All the secret-service men j hftii failed in their t-IV.-rte, and application was made to our commanding General to j send someone into N ishville. He at once j sent to Captain K. He explained to him , the necessity of sending him into Nash ville. Captain K declined. He stated | that lie did not desire to go for several reasons: First, the service was an exceed | ingly hazardous one, and if he should be | captured that he would Vie hung for a spy; second, he felt sure that lie could not go ! in and return without exposing himself to I the risk of doing things which he would prefer to avoid. His commanding officer | explained to him the great importance of the mission, that he knew no other that I he could so well trust, and who was cupa | ble to perform the duty. That he regarded it to be his duty to go, j and if he refused it would Vie impossible j to get the information. When the General ! appealed to him in this manner, he ron ; sented, tusking that lie might select but one man. He selected Lieutenant G., a brave, prudent soldier, but who was any thing but a minister. They started on their journey quietly and unknown to any but the commanding General. After days of absence they re tained with very valuable and important information. About a week after their re turn, one of the privates came to my tent and said to me: “Colonel, do you know that Captain K. cut the throats of two pris oners on his recent trip to Nashville." I replied that I did not believe it possible, as I knew Cuptain K. to be one of the most tender-hearted and humane of men. The soldier said, “It is true; I have heard it from undoubted authority, and you can send for Captain K. and yon will find it to be so." I sent for him and said, “Cap tain, I have just heard that on your late reconnoisance you killed two prisoners.” He appeared much surprised, and re marked in a quick, impulsive manner: “Lieutenant G. told this; he must stop talking about it, or I shall lie compelled to overhaul him.” He then said to me: Colonel, I will ex plain this matter. It is true I killed two men, but Iw as obliged to do it. I did right, and I have no regrets for it. I care fully considered the matter and prayed over it, and feel that I did my duty. I went into the Federal lines at Nashville against my will. I protested against being sent. It was urged upon me as a duty, and I undertook its performance. I suc ceeded in getting valuable information ns to the number of troops and the contem plated movements of the army, also draw ings of the fortifications and other mat ters that were of vast consequence to our army. When I got all things ready for my return, I started hack. I succeeded in getting clear of the Federal lines and stopped with Lieutenant G. at his house to take breakfast. We had scarcely seated ourselves at the table, when Miss G. said, “Oh, brother, look!” and glancing our eyes to the gate at the end of the lawn wo saw a body of Federal cavalry approachig. It required but a moment to seize our pistols and start for our horses. We were met at the door by two soldiers, whom we ordered to surrender and took captive. We made them mount behind us, and escaped to the banks of the Cumberland river. We were hotly pursued, and crossed and re crosed the river four times. It Anally be came apparent that we must get rid of our prisoners, or we were gone. We could not turn them loose, because we were then al most in hearing of the cavalry in search of us. T realized that we must kill them or be captured. I would have prefered the latter, although I felt that my own life would pay the forfeit; but then I thought of the great importance of the information QUITMAN, GA., SATURDAY, JULY 5,1873. I had, and my sense.of duty to my coun try decided me. I s&id to G. these men must die, there is no alternative left but this. 0. said, "Captain, by G—d, I can’t do it.” (G. was a wicked fellow, but he had uo such high sense of duty as the Cap tain.) I persuaded him that he must do it, and he finally consented, saying, ‘you kill the little one and I will kill the other.” We carried them to a bluff on the river and then wo told the men of our purpose. They were paralyzed with dread and begged very hard, but my mind was made up. I prayed to Clod to have mercy iiu their souls, and then caught my man by the hair and cut his throat. And he sank on the ground. 0., with horror in his countenenee, said “by G—d, Captain, I can’t do it.” It was the work of a mo ment to seize the oth _i and kill him also. We then tied them with our handkerchiefs and sank them in the river. The cool nar ration of these facts filled mo with horror, aud I said to him: “Great heaven, Captain, how could you do it?” He replied: “Suppose, Colonel, that you were to receive to-day anew piece of artillery and wanted to try the range of it. You would probably point it at the enemy, who are encamped on the other sideof the river. If a bull should strike among a squad of men and kill u half dozen, you would all cry out, 'fine shot,” and yet what would this be but killing uselessly at a mile and a half distance? No possible good could come of it. It would not affect eithemriny an iota. In my case, I had in formation on which depended the fate of our army. My capture would not only have involved my death, but also the fate of our whole army. “My duty was clear and I did not hesi tate! When we had sunk these men in the river, ye went into the woods and laid down to sleep. Lieut. G. waked me up and said he could not sleep; that the scene he had passed through could never bo effaced. I said to him that he must never speak of it, as it might roach the enemy and produce military retaliation. He promised that lie would not, but I see that lie has not kopt his word and must be stopped. ” I was amused at the Captain’s coolness, and decided to watch liis future course. He never faltered, and in every battle he was foremost, and was finally so severely wounded that his life was des paired of, but he lived through the war, and is now preaching, as I understand, to a fine congregation. The Haughty Man. It is.reluted of a .Spanish grandee, that upon one occasion lie condescended to leave liis carriage to walk for a short dis tance, when ho stumbled against some thing ia his way, mid fell. He gathered himself up, from the ground, and drawing himself up, exclaimed with great dignity “This comes of walking upon the earth.” If the Hidalgo had carried his head less high, and looked down a little in all prob ability he would have seen the impedi ment in his way, and so saved his fall. But how many men there arc in every community, whose haughty and proud bearing subjects them to tumbles of this kind. We frequently hear it said of such anil such individual, that he is very dig nified, anil we have one in our eye this moment; but in analyzing this qual.lv, we have most frequently found that this so-called, dignity was based upon the most intense pride. The dignified man never perpetrates a joke, never conde scends to laugh, lest, he should compro mise himself. He bears himself towards his fellow-men as though it were an unut terable condescension to honor them with a notice. A man who has a tolerable personal ap pearance, and so conducts himself, often gets the reputation of being a learned man and profound scholar, and in this, his dig nity stands his friend; for, not allowing himself to lie familiar with his fellows, he does not commit himself, and like a great many very solemn jackasses we know of, gets the name of being profound, because he could hurl three or four encyclopedias of knowledge at your head, did he think it worth liis while todo it, when,in truth,he is one of the shallowest fellows in the world, and only profound in ignorance. The man whose claims to learning or to the respect of his compeers, is founded on reality, needs no starched assumption to maintain his position. It is only the haughty, dig nified man, who is afraid of the approach of familiarity and geniality, and who in scribes on his brow, “Noli me Utvr/ere.” We never meet one of these dignified men in the street, with solemn mug, head erect, and body as stiff as though, like Lord Duberly’s ancestors, he had swallow ed a walking-stick, without thinking of the observation of a very tall Irish recruit, who was being drilled by a very diminu tive Seargent. “Heads up.” “And am I,” said the incipient soldier, “always to hold me head up after this way?” “Of course.” “Then good-by, Sergeant, for I shall never sec yon any more.” Resigned to His Fate. —When I was a little baby, gals would never “let me be,” for every one would snatch me up and place meon her knee; then to kiss, squeeze, and hug me, I’m sure “dad” and “main” must have wondered I survived it—but I stood it like a lamb! And again, while hut in boyhood: they’d tempt me from my home, through gardens and through pleas ure grounds, o’er fairy spots to roam; then with lueions fruits and sweatmeats my small tummy they would cram and half stifle me with kisses—but I stood it like a lamb! When older still, they’d lure me through dingle,dale or dell to gather nuts, or flowers and ferns—awl they seeme’d to love it well! Yet startled, oft at trifles, with shriek that seem’d no sham, they’d fling their arms aronnd me—bnt I stood it like a lamb! At last one charming crea ture (who could most my soul entrance,) by wondrous winning archness, and a ten der melting glance. seem’d to say, “You know yon love me, why not take mo as I am?” and I felt obliged to do it—but I stood it like a lamb! Thus through child hood, youth and manhood—ay! each mo ment of my life-—my heart has felt the witching power of the girl, or maid or wife; and the spell will leave me never, for like a potent dram, woman’s charms sub due me ever—but “I stand it like a lamb!” The joke-fiend of the St. Louis Demo crctl heartlessly says: “Mr. Carpenter, of Marquette, Michigan, had not the slightest idea he was about to create an atmospheri cal disturbance when he knocked the ashes out of his pipe on the head of a powder keg. And, when a fellow-workman con veyed all that was left of Mr. Carpenter to his wife in a bag, she quietly remarked: ‘Just his luck; hang him up in the wood shed, where the cats won’t got at him. till night. ’ ” [lYom the New York Lodger.] THE BALTIMORE BONAFARTES. BY JAMBS PARTON. What mysteries lie entombed in waste paper! A gentleman in Baltimore a short time ago bought a quantity of old docu ments and letters from a dealer in paper makers’ material, aud among the rest was a bundle of letters ( yallow with age, re lating to the marriage between Jerome Bonaparte and Miss Elizabeth Patterson, which was the universal tea-table topic of tlic United States seventy years ago. The letters tall nearly the whole storv; for most of them were written by actors in this domostio drama, such as the father and brother of the bride, the brothers of the bridegroom, and some even from the mighty Napoleon himself. We discover t'ven that personages no less important than the President of the United Stab's, the Secretary of State, the American Min ister in Paris, and the French Minister of Marino, were interested in this affair, aud wrote letters it It was of the more interest to the American Government, because President Jefferson had just suc ceeded in effecting the most brilliant feat of his administration—the purchaso of Louis iana from Napoleon-aud some alarm was felt at Washington lest the First Consul, dis pleased at the marriage, might hold the Government in some degree responsible, and not stand to his bargain. The reader will be interested in this strange, eventful history. It was in the fall of 1803 that a French frigate, having Jerome Bonaparte on board, east anchor in the harbor of New Y'ork. He was then a naval ofiloor, twenty years of age, and possessed a full share of that singular beauty of form audfuoo for which si i many of the Bonapartes have been noted. The splendor of his brother’s fame, and the great service he had just done the United States, insured the young man a distinguished reception, and the newspa pers everywhere chronicled his arrival ns Un interesting event. lie had in America one friend. Captain Joshua Barney, who' lmd formerly served in the French navy with Jerome, and had become much attached to him. The young mun visited Baltimore, us it seems, chiefly for the purpose of visiting his old com rade; who introduced him to many of tho priucipal families of tho place—among others, to that of Judge Chase, ol’ the Su preme Court, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, a noted per sonage at that day. It was at the house of Judge Chase that he first saw tho young lady, who is styled in these family letters Betsy Patterson, tho daughter of one of the wealthiest merchants in the country. Miss Patterson wus eighteen, aud ns the gossip of the day reports, a bewitching little beauty. It was a case of love at first Right. Be fore many days had passed they were en gaged to be married. But from tho be ginning of the affair the lady’s father ut terly and strongly opposed the match; and even after u license na<l been procured ho caused tho engagement to bo broken. “1 never,” he w Site, “directly or indi rectly,,gave Mi .I'ljuaparte tile smallest encouragement to -address my daughter; but on the contrary, resisted his preten tions by every means in my power, con sistent w-itli discretion. Finding,however, that the mutual attachment they had formed for each other wus such that noth ing short of force aud violence could pre vent their union, I, with much reluctance, consented to their wishes.” And so, after an acquaintance of about three months,on Christmas Eve, 1803, they were married, after the manner of the Ro man Catholiechurch. The announcement of the marriage in the Baltimore paper was as follows: Married, on Saturday evening last, by Reverend Bishop Carroll, Mr. Jerome Bo naparte, youngest brother of the First Consul of the French Republic, to Miss Elizabeth Patterson, the eldest daughter of William Patterson, Esq., of this city. The young couple passed the honeymoon at Baltimore. It so happened thut there was good sleighing that winter, and one of the papers reports th.'it, as Mr. and Madame Bonaparte were dashing by in a sleigh, a boy threw a Rnowball at tile lady and hit her; at which the ardent young husband was so indignant that he offered a reward of five hundred dollars for tho arrest of tho perpetrator. The newspapers also in form us that when they visited Washing ton on that winter the coach upset and threw Madame Bonaparte out, without, however, doing her much harm. During the following summer they made an ex tensive tour in the Northern and Eastern States, traveling with their own oarringe aud-four, attending the theatre in the large cities, and making themselves conspicuous generally. When they passed through Boston, a young law student, named Dan iel Webster,saw them, and being a Feder alist—that is, opposed to Jefferson and the purchase of Louisiana —he regarded the young couple with wrath and con tom [it. "Jerome, the brother of the Emperor of tho Gauls, is here”he wrote: “Every day you may see him '.shisking along Oornhill, with the true French air, with his wife by his side. * * The gentlemen— i. e. wo Fed’s—treat Monsieur with cold and distant respect, They feel, and every honest man feels, indignant at seeing this lordly grass hopper, this puppet in princes clothes, dashing through the American cities, lux uriously rioting on the property of Dutch mechanics or Swiss peasants.” In the meantime an awful question was agitating the family of the bride. Would the terrible Napoleon, now Emperor of France, for whose coronation the Pope was coming from Italy, would this mighty potentate recognize the marriage of his brother with the daughter of a Baltimore merchant? To get light on this matter, Robert Pattorson, her brother, went to Paris in the spring of 1804. It was long, before he could get any certain informa tion. Some of the Bonapartes received him cordially enough, especially Lucein, who had also married without his brothers consent, and who was about the most res pectable person of the family. Joseph, too, was decently civil, and for some time the young man hod good hopes. Little by little, however, the truths came out that the Emperor was opposed to the marriage, and was perfectly determined never to recognize it. He wanted Jerome for himself. His heart was set on creating a French navy that could hold its own against the English, and he fancied he saw in Jerome the material out of which a food naval officer could finally be made. [e gave orders to tho French Consul in New York not to furnish Jerome with any more money, and forbade command ers of French vessels to reeieve on board “the yoinxj person" to whom he had at tached himself. “It is no more than a camp marriage,” he said, "It is not possible Jerome can have a wife, since the laws of France re quire the consent of parents to the mar riage of a young man not twenty-five years of age.’’ It was thought best, notwithstanding the orders of Napoleon, for the young couple to go to Europe together; and land ing at some port near the territories of France, for the wife to remain there, while Jerome went forward, aud sought the pres ence of his brother, and endeavored by personal entreaties to overcome liis repug nance to the union. Adopting this course, in the teeth of repeated warnings, they landed at Lisbon, early in April, 1806, when they hail been married one yoar and four months. From Lisbon, young Jerome wrote a most affectionate letter in English to his wife’s family in Baltimore. “My feelings for you, my second mother," he wrote, “aud all your good family, are very well known to you, and it is uasier for me to feel them than to ex press them. 1 have left oue of my fami lies; and will bo soon among the’ other; but the pleasure and the satisfaction of being in my first w ill never make me for get my second. My dear wife has fortu nately supported the fatigues of our voy age perfectly well. She has been very sick, but you know as well as anybody that seasick has never killed nobody.” A few' duys after writing this letter, Je rome Bonaparte bade farewell to liis wife, and began liis journey toward the Imperial Court, which he reached after a month’s journey. His brother at fust refused to see him. “Let him write to me,” said the Empe ror. Jerome wrote, accordingly, a short note, merely announcing his arrival; to which Na poleon sent a short, but very clear aud de cided reply: There are no faults which a true repen tance cannot obliterate from my mind. Your union with Miss Patterson is null, as well in tho eyes of religion as in' those of the law. Write to Miss Fattersou, and bill her to go back to America. I will ac cord her a pension for life of sixty thous and francs a year, on condition that in no circumstances she ussumes my name; to which, considering the non-existence of her union, Hho hue no right. Make her understand that you have not been able, and will never be able, to chango the na ture of tilings. Your marriage thus an nulled by your own consent. I will re store you my friendship, and resume the affection which I have had for you from your infancy. Jerome yielded on tho instant. The proof of this is contained in the tentli vol ume of the Napoleon correspondence, re cently published. On the same 6th of May on which Napoleon wrote the letter ? noted above, he wrote one to liis sister jlizu, in which lie mentioned that he was “satisfied” with Jerome’s conduct in the matter, and on the same day he wrote a. letter to (lumbaceroH, requesting him to make out the proper papers disavowing the marriage, for Jerome to sign. Ido not doubt that the young husband was sorry to lose the “little Baltimore beauty,” as she was frequently termed; but the damning fact remains that he gave iier up the first hour that he stood in the presence of his brother. In Napoleon this was atrocious; in Jerome, contemptible.' Jer rome agreed to sond his private secretary to Lisbon to break the news to his wife; but before the messenger reached her she Lad sailed for Holland. When she arrived near Amsterdam, a place then wholly under the influence of Napoleon, she was not permitted to go on shore, although tho ship was short of pro visions, and she was within a few days of her confinement. The American Consul stated the case strongly to tho Dutch Gov ernment, and begged that, if Madame Bo naparte could not be permitted to land, she might at least be furnished with fresh provisions and tho ship allowed to go to London. The provisions, it seems, were furnished, and the departure of the ship was permitted; and in Loudon, in July, 1805, her son was born. Her husband, it appears, still flattered her with vain hopes, causing her to be in formed that although the Emperor was dissatisfied with tho marriage, lie lived in expectation of overcoming liis objections. A letter reached her to this effect us late as July, 1805. We soon hear of Jerome Bonaparte commanding a fleet in the Medoterranean; aud in less than two years after—in Au gust, 1807—ho married the daughter of the King of Wurtemburg. He was crowned King himself soon after. In September, 1805, the mother and child returned to Baltimore, where tho mother is still living in good health, at tho age of eighty-eight. Her soil, who was commonly called Col. Jerome Napo leon Bonaparte, lived till the year 1870, and has numerous dependents. Whothor Madamo Bonaparte consented to receive the {tension offered her by Napoleon does not appear; but she is now possessed of great wealth, which, it is said, she has carefully hoarded —living herself in tho fourth story of an ordinary house in Balti more—in the expectation of her grandson one day needing it to support his rank as a Prince of the French Empire. PROFESSION AL < ARDS. JA& H. HUNTER, ATTO RN E Y AT LAW, QUITMAN, liROOKS COUNTY, GEORGIA. Willpractice in the Counties of the Southern Circuit, Echols and Clinch of the Brunswick, and Mitchell of tho Albany. A*-Ofdce at the Court House.‘a* jnni'2B-tf W. B. BENNETT. 8* T. KINOKBEIiKY, BENNETT & KINGBBERRY, Attorneys at Ijaw, q u i Tit A N, Brooks County, - - - Georgia. juno2B-tf EDWARD a. HARDEN, Attorney at Law, QUITMAN, BROOKS COUNTY, • - GEORGIA. Late an Associate Justice Huprcmc Court, V. S. for Utah and Nebraska Territories; now Judge County Court, Brooks County, Ga may24-12mo niWELLANBOI'S AOrBRTWKMBIHTS. BRIGGS, JELKS & GO., DEALKIW IN Drugs anti Medicines, Family Groceries, Hardware, Crockery, Dry Goods, Domestic and Foreign, Millinery Goods, Boots and Shoes, Hats, Clothing, Notions, etc. WHICH WE WILL, BELL STRICTLY FOR GASH —AND AT— CASH VALUE, Farmers’ Prod we, when purchased by in, considered aa CASH. HENRY F. MABIJETT, Manager. junell-tf CREECH & NEWSOM, DEALERS IN DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, Liquors, Flour, Bacon, etc., QUITMAN, GA. maylO-tf A MODEL NEWSPAPER. THE SAVANNAH DAILY NEWS. The Havannah Daily Mobmso News edged by tho I’resß and people to be the beat dauy paper south of Louisville and eaat of New Orleans. Carrying with it the prestige and reli ability of age, it has ail the vigor and vitality of youth, aud its enterprise as a gatherer of the latest and freshest news has astonished its con temporaries and met tho warm approbation of the public. During the year 1873, noexpense of tune, labor, and money will ho spent to koep the Moasiso News ahead of all competitors m Georgia jour nalism, and to deserve the flattering encomiums heaped upon it from all quarters. There has, as yet, been no serious attempt made to rival the special telegrams which the News inaugurated some years ago, end tho consequence la, that the reader in search of the latest intelligence always looks to the Mohni.no News. The telegraphic ar rangements of the paper are such that tho omis sions made by the goncral press reports are promtlv and reliably supplied by its special eor reapoudeuts. The Mobxino News has lately been enlarged to a thirty-six column paper, and its broad scope of type embraces, daily, everything of interest that transpires in the domain of Literature, Art, Science, Religion, and general intelligence; giv ing to the reader more and better digested mat ter than any other paper in the State, It is perhaps needless to speuk of the politics of the Mousing News. For years and years—in deed since its establishment—it has been a repre sentative Southern papur, mid front that time to the present, in all conjunctures, it has couaie tently and persistently maintained Democratic States ltights principles, aud labored, with an ardor and devotion that know no abatement, to promote and preserve the interests and honor of the South. The special features of the Mohnino News will be retained and improved upon during the en suing year, and several now attractions will be added. Tho Georgia news items, with their quaint and pleasant humor, and tho epitome of Florida af fair!) will be, continued during the year. The lo cal department will bo, as it has been for the fast vear, tho most complete and reliable to be bnntl in any Savannah paper, and tho commer cial columns will be full and accurate. The price of tho Daily is $lO 00 per annum; $5 00 for six months; tl 00 for one month. The price of the Tri-Woekly News is 16 00 per annum, $8 00 tor six months, and II SO for three months. Tho price of the Weekly News is 200 per an num; 41 00 for six months; SO conte for three months. .... Subscriptions for either edition of the Moasrso New may be eont by express at tho risk and es pouse of the proprietor. Address J. H. LSTDjL. Savannah, Ga. Plaid Grenadines, black and colors, at reduced prices, it Bsigos, Jelxs A Co's. ! NUMBER 9. MIfICKUsAIfBOWi ADVfcRTTBKMK*Hrf. HENRY 1 JOHN FARET, Wholesale CLOTHING HOUSE, 376 & 378 Broadway, Comer White Bt., New York, Constantly Keep on Baal s Largs sal VsU Is lMtod Stock of MEN’S, YOUTH’S AND BOY’S CLOTHING. ■ -I. - O ’ - THAI Mswaa is npnusM by JOU It. WHITS. H triHa, Om., wtM wtH MHt ths Utrekssti ®t dMt|Ui Alabama aM Florid*. Jutl-tf . I. L. FALK & CO., ONE PRICE Whslsssls oat BaMl CLOTHING WAREHOUSE, Corners Congress, Whitaker udKlalut!*, SAVAJOTAH, OA. A LARGE ASSORTMENT OF FURNISHING GOODS, HATS, TRUNKS, VALICES, ETC, Always ou Haad, Manufactory No. 48 Warren St. N. Y Hnafk Hnw, Charli*ls, . C. m ay'll- tf CLEARTHE TRACK When the Whistle Blows. S. SHANDAL, QUITMAN, GEORGIA. IF YOU WISH TO PURCHASE C H EAP GOODS Of til description*, such u DRY GOODS, CLOTHING, BOOTS AND SHOES, GROCERIES, HARDWARE, TIN WAKE, tmd AB other kind* of Good* ytm any Mod, Cab and see ferfmt~;>f before Pnrcha&ißg Elsewhere. We (Hr an tee to 3*ll m Low m As mayjf-tf