The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1884-08-09

Politics and weather.
New YORK. August 2. 1884.
EDITOR CHIEF:
How shall pass the Sabbath? said to
myself last Sunday. If I go to hear the
music at Central Park, they will say I am
heathen, and if go to Coney Island they
may think am publican. ] will HE me
to Greenwood, and there commune with
the spirits of the departed. Here repose
hundreds of thousands of those who were
once the moving spirits of the two great
cities near it. As you enter the stately
gate before you is the tribute which the
trustees of Greenwood have raised to the
memory of the late treasurer of the corpo-
ration, and who may be said to have guided
its destiny for over forty years. Much of
the beauty and order that glorifes this
City of the Dead is due to him, who now
reposes peacefully in its bosom. A few
yards to the left is rich cross which the So
eiety for the Prevention of Cruelty to AMI
mails have raised to the memory of Louis
Bonnard. Louis Bonnard was French
man, who came to New York many years
ago, and engaged in the manufacture of
scientific instruments; he lived in two
wretched rooms in the most disrepntable
part of the city; he denied himself the COM
monest necessaries of life, and was found
dead in his wretched apartments. To the
great astonishment of the few who knew
HI ~, q xu; N vv oc diaoorapod Jaov;rr c,nn 0n0
to the Society for the Prevention of Cruel
ty to Animals; and the secret of the bequest
was supposed to lie in the fact that Louis
Bonnard believed in metempsechosis, and
thought that when his spirit left his body, it
might be transferred to horse or dog, and
he did not want it to be abused. Atall events
the breath was scarcely out of his body when
an army of relations, who never knew or
cared for him in his life, appeared to con-
test the will. They fought Henry Bergh in
all the courts, and the case was finally
decided in favor of the Society. Thousands
pass the Frenchman's grave without stop
ping to take second look, but if the
dumb brutes of the land could sing OR speak
not one in this vast assemblage of ghosts
would have grander pean or louder
praise than Louis Bonnard.
Facing his tomb on the hillside to the
East is beautiful little Grecian Temple,
beneath which lies all that was mortal of
John Anderson, the inventor of Solace To-
bacco. John Anderson may not have been
the greatest man whose remains repose in
Greenwood, but in his day and generation,
he brought much consolation and comfort
to the chewers of the cud. AS great man
as Gen. Scott sent all the way from Mex
leo for pound box of John Anderson's 8
Solace; and an eminent Presbyterian di-
vine, whose eloquence electrified New York
forty years ago, seldom went into his pull
pit of Sunday without paper of Ander
sons fine cut in his pocket. John Ander-
sons shop stood on Broadway at the cor
ner of the City Hospital grounds and al
most opposite to Pearl Street; and it was
at his store that the young dudes of cou-
pie of generations ago used to buy their
cigars of the pretty cigar girl, who was
murdered at the Elysian Fields. The girl
was the great attraction of John Ander-
sons store, and he never fully recovered
the shock of her loss. He retired from bus
mess many years since, and dying. left a
fortune estimated at two or three millions
of dollars. The Anti Tobacco League may