While in Martinique, Jerome Bonaparte said to a former resident of Baltimore, "Ah! il me faut une mariage de convenance." "Not so," rejoined the lady; "and I know the most beautiful woman in the world, whom you must marry--Miss Elizabeth Patterson of Baltimore." And so he first heard her name. Soon after Jerome's arrival in Baltimore one of his suite, M. Rubelle--his father a member of the famous French Directory--married a young lady of that city, to whom Jerome said, "Jamais je n'epouserai une demoiselle Americaine."--"Ne soyez pas si sur," replied she: "Mademoiselle Patterson est si belle que la voir c'est l'epouser." Mrs. Patterson, with a maternal prevision of misfortune, wishing to prevent their meeting, carried her daughter to her country place, where they remained until November. This enforced exclusion from the festivities consequent on Jerome's arrival naturally excited the young girl, who was found by her brother in tears. "What ails you, Betsey?" Having sobbingly disclosed her woes, she was allowed to return to town. Meanwhile Jerome was saying, "Ma belle femme, pourquoi ne revient-elle de la campagne." One morning, as Mme. Rubelle entered her carriage, in which Miss Patterson awaited her as chaperon to the races, Jerome appeared, was presented and accompanied them, to the annoyance of the fair Betsey, who, irate at his rumored impertinence in calling her his _belle femme_, turned from him with indifference and even _brusquerie_, which, if coquetry, could not have been better designed: from that moment he was captive. On this momentous occasion she was attired in buff-colored silk, very scant as to drapery, a lace fichu and a huge Leghorn bonnet trimmed with pink gauze and long ostrich feathers. The wooing was ardent, but growing at one moment lukewarm, Mr. Patterson, wise in his generation, sent Miss Betsey to Virginia; which ruse had the desired effect, piquing the lover into an immediate declaration on her return. Mrs. Patterson yielded a reluctant consent. "Your father," she said, "would probably force you into something detestable for money, so this may be for you a happy escape." The marriage, the preliminaries of which are historically familiar, was celebrated in her father's house on Christmas Eve, 1803, in the presence of ecclesiastical, national and State dignitaries. There were only two bridesmaids, the Misses Brown, great folk of that day, and no groomsman.