ety, the beautiful and accomplished Honora Sneyd. Owing to some unpropitious circumstances, this engagement was dissolved by parental authority, and André, to soothe the pangs of disappointed affection, took a commission in the army. This was in 1771. Miss Sneyd, two years afterwards, 1773, became the second wife of Richard Lovell Edgeworth, who was the father of Maria Edgeworth, justly celebrated as an authoress. Both André and Miss Sneyd possessed an ardent and gifted friend in the person of Miss Seward, who at that time was in the height of youth, beauty, and fame as a votary of the muses. In 1778 André was in Philadelphia, with Sir William Howe. The American Army lay at Valley Forge. During the stay of the British Army in Philadelphia, the subordinate officers gave an entertainment to Sir William. It was called the Meschianza, and consisted of regatta, fete-champetre, with tilts' and tournaments, and a procession through two triumphal arches, and ending with fireworks and a ball. The day following this affair, General Gray, or "No Flint Gray," with five thousand select troops, undertook to surprise Lafayette, then posted at Barren Hill He was defeated in the plan. Closely following this came Washington from Valley Forge, forcing the British from Philadelphia, and to battle at Monmouth. At the entertainment above mentioned, André met persons who introduced him to Arnold. He was well informed of Arnold's character, his pecuniary embarrassments, and his temporary disgrace with the American army and Congress. He found in him a fit subject for treason, and then and there laid the foundation of the plot, and afterwards nurtured it by clandestine correspondence. This fact alone convinces that it was a cool, deliberate plan, and not the hasty impulse which may sometimes lead honorable men into dishonorable practices. On the Death of Major Andre. While all he asked was as the brave to bleed; Fierce as he was-'tis cowards only know But no entreaty wakes the soft remorse, Nor with the Christian requiem soothed thy shade; With solemn strains shall lull thy deep repose, And with his deathless laurels shade thy brow. The complete frustration of these plans, the The British legions pour the indignant tear, Snatch from its radiant source the living fire, This envenomed philippic, in which Washington and his compatriots were traduced, flowing from the pen of an enamored and enraged woman, was published in 1789, and at that time so agreeably coincided with English prejudices and feelings that it spread its shafts for nearly thirty years. At that time the literary works of Miss Seward were republished, and we find the following note appended, which is a contradiction of the spirit of the monody: "The concurrent testimony even of the British officers, during the years which have elapsed since the poem was first published, acquits General Washington of that imputed cruelty which had so forcibly impressed the grieved heart of the author. They acknowledge that there was but one way to have saved the gallant sufferer, viz., by Arnold's having been given up in exchange, who had fled to the English army. It was believed by the American officers, that Arnold had taken his measures, that if the projected interview with André had been discovered while they were together, it might have been in his power to have sacrificed André to his own safety. This report was urged to the prisoner by an American officer, commissioned by General Washington, who wished his preservation, to induce him (André) to write to General Clinton, requesting the exchange; but Major André would not listen a moment to the suggestion. However, though it is urged that General Washington could not safely set aside the decision of the court-martial, surely it was in his power to have rendered the manner in which Major André was to suffer, less wounding to the sensibility of an intrepid spirit. ANNA SEWARD." This note, though in a part an apology for her errors, still conveys a partial censure of Washington, and it remained for her to make a full and complete recantation in her letters. When Sir Walter Scott edited her poetical works he omitted any mention whatever of these letters. It was reserved for Edmund Wigley, Esq., to place these letters before the public. In the following letter Miss Seward clearly denounces the spirit of the monody: was signed between this country and America, an officer introduced himself, commissioned Len General Washington to call upon me, and to assure me, from the General, that no circumstances & his life had been so mortifying as to be censured in the Monody on André as the pitiless author of his ignominious death; that he had labored :: save him; that he requested my attention to papers on the subject, which he had sent by the officer for my perusal. On examining them, I found they entirely acquitted General Washington. This filled me with contrition for the rash injuch e of my course. With a copy of the proceedings of the court-martial that determined André's cotdemnation, there was a copy of a letter from Washington to Clinton, offering to give up Andre for Arnold, observing that there was reason t: believe that the apostate Arnold had exposed the gallant André to unnecessary danger to facilitate his own escape. Also copy of another letter from Washington to André, adjuring him to state to him (Clinton) his unavoidable conviction of the selfish perfidy of Arnold in suggesting that plan cf disguise which exposed André, if taken, to certain condemnation as a spy, when if he had com openly, in his regimentals, and under a flag of truce, to the then unsuspected American General. he would have been perfectly safe. Again, a copy of André's high-souled answer, thanking General Washington for the interest he took in his destiny, but observing that even under conviction of Arnold's inattention to his safety, he could not suggest to Clinton anything which might influence him to save his less important life by such an exchange. These, madam, are the circumstances, as faithfully as I recall them at such a distance of time, of the interview of Washington's friend. ANNA SEWARD." Some have supposed that many of the circumstances related in these letters were only imagination, and that Washington would not deign to be reached by the idle slander of a poetic female, and aver further, that had it been true, Sir Walter Scott would not have omitted them. But the minute relation of all the events, with Miss Seward's celebrity and reputation, certainly give the "To Miss Ponsonby and Lady Eleanor Butler, of weight of truth to these publications; and they Langallen Vale. BUXTON, Aug. 9, 1793. show the sensibility of the illustrious Washington, in performing this act, to shield the excellence of A letter from General Washington, expressly his character, and to preserve his reputation un addressed to myself, but a few years after peace | stained. MAJOR ANDRÉ'S DEFENCE. THE following authentic defence of Major An-sciousness of having intended to discharge my dré, copied from the "Journal of the Court duty in an honorable manner. Martial," is especially interesting in connection with the foregoing: "I came," said Major André, "to hold a communication with a general officer of the American Army, by the order of my own commander. I entered the American lines by an unquestionable authority-when I passed from them it was by the same authority. I used no deception. I had heard that a Provincial officer had repented of the course he had taken, and that he avowed that he never meant to go so far as he had gone, in resisting the authority of his King. The British commander was willing to extend to him the King's clemency-yea, his bounty, in hopes to allure. others to do the same. I made no plans. I examined. no works. I only received his communications, and was on my way to return to the army, and to make known all that I had learned from a general officer in your camp. Is this the office of a spy? I never should have acted in that "Plans, it is said, were found with me. This is true; but they were not mine. Yet I must tell you honestly that they would have been communicated if I had not been taken. They were sent by General Arnold to the British commander, and I should have delivered them. From the bottom of my heart, I spurn the thought of attempting to screen myself by criminating another; but so far as I am concerned, the truth shall be told whoever MAJOR ANDRÉ. suffers. It was the allegi ance of General Arnold I out to negotiate this allegi- anew. "Gentlemen, officers, be it understood that I am no supplicant for mercy: that I ask only from Omnipo light, and what I have done is not in the nature | tence-not from human beings. Justice is all I of a spy. I have noted neither your strength nor weakness. If there be wrong in this transaction, is it mine? The office of a spy a soldier has a right to refuse; but, to carry and fetch communications, with another army, I never heard was criminal. The circumstances which followed, after my interview with General Arnold, were not in my power to control. He alone had the management of them. "It is said that I rode in disguise. I rode for security incog., as far as I was able; but other than criminal deeds induces one to do this. I was not bound to wear my uniform any longer than it was expedient or politic. I scorn the name of a spy: brand my offence with some other title, if it change not my punishment, I beseech you. It is not death I fear. I am buoyed above it by a con claim-that justice which is neither swayed by prejudice, nor distorted by passion, but that which flows from honorable minds directed by virtuous determinations. I hear, gentlemen, that my case is likened to that of Captain Hale, in 1775. I have heard of him and his misfortunes. I wish that in all that dignifies man-that adorns and elevates human nature, I could be named with that accomplished but unfortunate officer His fate was wayward, and untimely was he cut off, yet younger than I now am. He went out knowing that he was assuming the character of a spy. He took all its liabilities into his hand, at the request of his great commander. He was ready to meet what he assumed, and all its consequences. His death the law of nations sanctioned. It may be complimentary to compare me with him: still it would be unjust. He took his life in his hand when he assumed the character and the disguise. I assumed no disguise, nor took upon myself any other character than that of a British officer who had business to transact with an American officer. "In fine, I ask not even for justice, if you want a victim to the manes of those fallen untimely, I may as well be that victim as another. I have in the most undisguised manner given you every fact in the case. I only reply on the proper construction of these facts. Let me be called any thing but a spy. I am not a spy. I have examined nothing, learned nothing, communicated nothing, but my detention to Arnold, that he might escape if he thought proper so to do. This was, as I conceived, my duty. I hope the gallant officer who was then unsuspicious of his General, will not be condemned for the military error he committed. "The sentence you this day pronounce will go down to posterity with exceeding great distinctness on the page of history; and if humanity and honor mark this day's decision, your names, each and all of you, will be remembered by both nations when they have grown greater and more powerful than they now are. But, if misfortune befalls me, I shall in time have all due honors paid to my memory. The martyr is kept in remembrance when the tribunal that condemned him is forgotten. I trust this honorable Court will believe JOHN PAULDING. "I further state that Smith, who was the medium of communication, did not know any part of our conference, except that there was some necessity for secrecy. He was counsel in various matters for General Arnold, and from all the interviews I had with him, and it was Smith who lent me this dress-coat of crimson, on being told that I did not wish to be known by English or Americans, I do not believe that he had even a supposition of my errand. On me your wrath should fall, if on any one. I know your affairs look gloomy; but that is no reason why I should be sacrificed. My death can do your cause no good. Millions of friends to your struggle in England you will lose if you condemn me. I say not this by way of threat; for I know brave men are not awed by threats-nor will brave men be vindictive because they are desponding. I should not have said a word had it not been for the opinion of others, which I am bound to respect. me when I say, that what I have spoken was not from any idle fears of a coward. I have done." REMARKS. Probably, Mr. Carlisle is somewhat mistaken when he says: "comparatively few general readers know anything of the man [Major André] beyond the fact of his arrest as a spy, his trial and execution." Few individuals have been more written about than André, and few have excited more interest than he among "general readers." Still, the "Monody" and the "Defence," have been seldom in print in this country, and will prove interesting to many of our readers. We insert here a portrait cf John Paulding, one of the three captors of André, and shall be obliged to any of our readers who will furnish authentic portraits of Van Wart (Van Wert, or Van Vert) and Williams, the companions of Paulding in that capture. We shall also be thankful for a brief sketch of the life of each of the three. Our readers are generally aware of the fact that the character of these men was seriously assailed nearly sixty years ago, Colonel Tallmadge being the most conspicuous of their detractors, but though he was sincere beyond question, he was just as certainly mistaken. Judge Benson's "Vindication" is rare and accessible to "general readers" only in the libraries of the Historical Societies. EDWARD I.-THE CRUEL PRINCE AND KING, THE LOVING SON DR. LOSSING, in his paper on "The Curtis House, Jamaica Plain," in the March MONTHLY, speaks briefly of Waltham Abbey, and alludes to the fact that the corpse of Edward I. was borne thither in 1307. By a singular coincidence, in the same number, Mr. Morden in his paper on "Engla-land," tells us of the famous "Stone of Destiny," that it was taken from Scone to Westminster by the same Edward. These two allusions to Edward I. call to my mind his remarkable character and career, and possibly a short paper upon the same may prove of some interest to the readers of the MONTHLY. History tells us how the unwise and unjust Henry III., by his repeated disregard of the "Magna Charta," brought on "the Barons' War;" how on the field of Lewes the great Simon de Montfort (Earl of Leicester) and his righteous cause triumphed; how Henry and his son Edward became prisoners to their justly incensed barons; how the Earl of Gloucester and some others grew jealous of De Montfort's power and influence, assisted Edward to escape and to organize an army for the rescue of his father; how, on the bloody field of Evesham, Edward overcame and murdered the great De Montfort and his noble followers, permitting no stay to the slaughter until the very noblest and best of the English nation were all slain-an English writer well says: "A more savage, inhuman carnage never disgraced England." Drayton, the Warwickshire poet, tells us that the great battle and slaughter of Evesham were preceded by dire portents: "In that black night before this sad and dismal day |