And who subsequently thought it in good taste for him, of all men, to refer, in a public speech, to the Chief Justice of the United States, as “the political adventurer who has recently been among us!” A very intelligent correspondent (“V. H.”) of the Cincinnati Commercial, writing from the Governor’s home, gives the following account of him: “Governor Wells does not seem to have much honor in his own parish. He was sheriff here once, and defaulter to a large amount. His brother, Montford Wells, has since been sued as one of the securities upon the forfeited bond. Montford and Jeff., both brothers of J. Madison (the Governor), married sisters—heiresses. The joint weddings—runaway matches—were a ‘spree,’ the gay young couples chartering a steamboat, and with a large party of merry guests, setting off from Alexandria, firing a salute, as a note of defiance to the grim, gray old guardian, who had presumed to threaten the course of true love (despite the adage, about to run so smooth down Red River), with vain opposition. Jeff.’s wife has been for some time in the Insane Asylum, and, since the death of Jeff. himself, Montford has been trying to get possession of the estate, in his wife’s name, and for the interest of his insane sister-in-law. J. Madison (the Governor), however, had interfered, as the representative of his brother Jeff. Why, I can’t understand, for Montford is older than the Governor.” Footnote 32: Bankrupt in all but honor, the paroled soldiers of the Confederacy can only tender to the ladies of New Orleans their undying gratitude for the cordial welcome which has greeted their advent in the city, and pray that God will bless the “ministering angels,” who have lifted from their hearts the dark cloud of gloom and despondency, and turned its “silver lining” outward, brightened with their smiles. Congregated here only for a brief space, they will soon be widely scattered, perhaps never to meet again. They are returning home with blighted hopes and ruined fortunes; all but honor, and the will which can never be conquered, lost in the terrible struggle through which they have passed. Many of them will be voluntary exiles from the fair Southern land which gave them birth; but wherever their wandering fate may lead, they will bear with them, among treasured relics of the past, a remembrance ever more dear and sacred of the noble women of New Orleans, who have had courage to believe that misfortune may exist without guilt, and, refusing to worship the rising sun, have turned aside from the prosperous and the powerful, to bestow their prayers, their tears, and their smiles upon them.—_N. O. Picayune, June 17._ CHAPTER XXV. Among the Negro Schools.