Indiana State Sentinel

Indianapolis, July 16, 1845.

Mrs. Ann Royal.

Nobody who has visited Washington, or known aught of its gossip and by-play, could fail to have seen or heard of "Madame Royal," the eccentric and reduced conductor of a little weekly paper called the Paul Pry. Indeed, Mrs. Royal is pretty extensively known throughout the country, as the authoress of two or three volumes, in which she has contrived to give as many hard raps as she has herself received during the chequered scenes of her life. Mrs. Royal is a woman of no mean talents, at least in the particular line in which she chooses to exert herself, as many a "galled jade" can testify. She is a perfect nightmare to many of the luckless wights who have fallen under her vengeance, and a source of endless amusement to those who are fortunate enough to escape the venom of her tongue and her pen.

Mrs. Royal has spent many years in Washington, for the purpose of prosecuting a claim upon Congress for services rendered by her husband in the war of the Revolution. An appropriation for this purpose has just been defeated in the Senate, our readers are aware; and a reminiscence of her first appearance at the Capitol may not be uninteresting.

The husband of Mrs. Royal was a brave and meritorious officer of the Revolution, and we believe spent most of his fortune in the cause of his country. After his death, Mrs. Royal being left destitute, repaired to Washington to endeavor to obtain compensation from Congress for her husband's services. She arrived in the city friendless and alone, relying solely upon what she considered the justness of her claim. By those who knew her at that time she is represented to have been a very amiable and exemplary woman; with many accomplishments both of mind and person. She applied for advice and assistance to several of the former friends of her husband, but from some cause met with no countenance whatever. In some instances she was rudely repulsed from the door. Wearied and heart sick, she was one severely stormy day wandering through the streets in search of a gentleman to whom she had a letter of introduction, when she lost her way and applied at a house for information. A little girl who answered her inquiry, ran to tell her mother that a lady dripping with wet and looking very sick, was standing in the hall. Before the girl's return, Mrs. R. had fainted and fallen to the floor, from sheer exhaustion. She was at once taken to a bed, and owing to exposure &c., a raging fever set in, through which she was nursed by the girl with unremitting assiduity and kindness. That little girl was "Sally," well known wherever Mrs. R. has visited as her inseparable companion, which she continues to this day, and for aught we know, co-editor and co-printer of the "Paul Pry."

We know nothing of the merits of her claim, but can commiserate the misfortunes that have brought about her apparent insanity of action.