the nation? And might not the question with greater propriety be put to his majesty's commanders in America? A due deference to whom, we trust, will be thought the most decent apology for our waiving the mention of many more of the true and undeniable causes which we have it in our power to assign. And permit us to add, that it is only from modesty, and a wish to avoid both the appearance and imputation of selfish ostentation, that we decline entering into a particular enumeration of such proofs of allegiance and fidelity, from the conduct and sufferings of American loyalists, as have never been equalled by any people, in any age, or in any country. We cannot, however, refrain from hinting at some incontestible advantages the loyalists have been of, in affording supplies to the royal army,-by acting as guides and pilots, and (independent of those employed in the provincial line) as militia and partisan troops. As corps of Refugees, they have been too often distinguished by the zeal and gallantry of their behavior, to need the mention of any particular instance; if they did, we might refer to the affair of the Block-house, opposite Fort Knyphausen, where captain Ward, with about 70 Refugees, withstood and repulsed the attack of general Wayne, at the head of three chosen brigades of continentals. As a militia, acting by themselves (for we take no notice of the many thousands that, at different times, particularly in Georgia and South Carolina, have attached themselves to the royal army) a small party some time ago, under the command of one Bunnion, went from Long Island to Connecticut, and there surprised and took prisoner a rebel major general, named Silliman, and several other officers. We also infer from the small number of militia collected by general Greene, the most popular and able general in the service of congress, in the long circuitous march he took through many of the most populous, and confessedly the most rebellious counties in that country, that there must be a vast majority of loyalists in that part of America, as well as elsewhere. The presumption becomes stronger from a consideration of the well known seduction and compulsion which were made use of by the rebel generals, and other officers, in order to embody the militia, as well as from the manner in which the militia are there mentioned by general Greene, in his public despatches in the course of one month. In that of the 10th of March, he says:-"Our militia have been upon such loose and uncertain footing, ever since we crossed the Dan, that I could attempt nothing with confidence." In his next of the 16th, in giving his account of two brigades of militia, consisting of three captains, ten subalterns, and 561 rank and file, he returns two captains, nine subalterns, and 592 rank and file missing, besides one regiment, of which he could get no return, and adds, "those missing are supposed to have gone home." According to the report of the generals and field officers, very few were killed or taken; most of them having thrown away their arms, and abandoned the field early in the action. In that of the 30th, he writes, "that nothing but blood and slaughter have prevailed among the whigs and tories; and their inveteracy against each other must, if it continues, depopulate this part of the country." Surely, whole brigades throwing away their arms, and returning home, and all that sort of conduct, must carry with it the most presumptive evidence, not only of their disaffection to the measures of congress, but of their loyalty and attachment to his majesty, and the British nation and government; especially if you take into the account this well known fact, that the rebels have recruited the continental army, and in all instances assembled the militia, by deceiving some, terrifying many, and driving more, to assist in their military operations. On the contrary, the service of the loy-militia, attacked a party of rebel troops, who alists has in all cases been ready and voluntary; and in many unsolicited, and in some unnoticed, if not rejected. If it should be said, if such is the number and disposition of the loyalists in America, how comes it to pass that they have not been of more importance to his majesty's service? We answer, might it not with equal propriety be enquired why his majesty's forces have not more fully answered the just expectations of A party of militia also not long ago went from Wilmington, in North Carolina, 60 or 70 miles into the country, and took major general Ashe, with two or three field officers, and some other persons, and brought them prisoners to his majesty's garrison at Wilmington. Another party of militia lately went near 200 miles up into the country from Wilmington, to a place called Hillsborough, and with a body of 6 or 700 were there as a guard to the rebel legislature, then sitting at that place, and took the rebel governor, Mr. Burke, several of his council, II continental officers, and about 120 of the troops prisoners, whom the militia delivered to major Craig, who commanded the king's troops at Wilmington. Other more voluntary alerts, performed by the loyalists in South Carolina and elsewhere, might be mentioned without number. Surely such are not timid friends! We defy the most incredulous opposer of American loyalty, as well as the most determined advocate for congressional usurpation, to point out a single instance wherein the likes has been done, or attempted by the rebel militia; or that they have in any instance voluntarily assembled in such numbers, or attempted any military achievements whatever, without the express orders and coercion of their tyrannical rulers. The establishing civil government, and forming a militia in a colony as soon as the rebel army is drove out of it, is the best measure that can be adopted to make the loyal inhabitants importantly useful to the king's interest. It is the highest political absurdity that ever was thought of, to imagine that a colony is to be retained, and the peace and good order of government restored by the force of arms and martial law, and that too without the partial aid and concurrence of its inhabitants. And it is equally preposterous to expect that aid and concurrence, without some regard is paid to the prejudices and inclinations of the people. They should be treated with confidence and honored with notice, by being appointed to all offices of civil government. The protective authority and persuasive influence of which is the only measure that can extend to, and connect the people of a British province in one common interest and voluntary submission. A province, thus restored to the influence of civil government and the exertions of the militia, the natural force of the country, the royal army might proceed to the next, ever keeping the rebel forces in front. Thus province after province might and would be speedily reclaimed to their former happy and most eligible situation of British subjects. of congress, and restoring them to the protection and benefit of British laws." The importance the possession of some part, if not the whole of the revolted colonies, must be of, as an asylum for loyalists, as well as the weight it would be of in fixing the preliminary articles, and influencing the definitive treaty, whenever such an event should take place, strongly enforces the political propriety and necessity of the American war. It also appears to be a political and necessary measure, in order to detain the rebel forces in the revolted colonies; for there can be no doubt, if his majesty's troops were withdrawn from thence, but their views and operations would be immediately turned towards the province of Quebec to the northward, and the British West-India islands to the southward, and when the contiguity of the one, and the proximity of the others to the revolted colonies is considered, it is not improbable to suppose, from the connection now subsisting between America and France, Spain and Holland, but that, by the united forces of those powers in those adjacent islands, cooperating with the Americans, that the British islands must be immediately taken; and that all the continental possessions of Great Britain would soon after be irrecoverably lost. If we take into our view the effect the evacuation of America must have upon the minds of people, and the unavoidable intercourse there has been, and must continue to be, from the mutual wants and supplies of each other, it would be folly to imagine, but that many of the inhabitants of Quebec, and the Islands, would, from various motives, and with different views, under such circumstances, contribute in some measure towards facilitating their own reduction, and hastening the surrender to some other power. If Great Britain can maintain a naval superiority in the American seas, the continent, with proper conduct, is undoubtedly retainable. If she cannot, her insular possessions in America are still less tenable than her continental; for this plain reason, that the former are more assailable by naval force than the latter. Consequently, the prosecution of the American war with magnanimity and vigor appears to us the best, if not the only measure for re-animating his majesty's loyalists in America, to a strenuous exertion, of their most distinguished endeavors, for discouraging the efforts of the rebels-for dispiriting the hostile powers of Europe, and for maintaining the dignity, and The policy of prosecuting the American war is strikingly obvious for more reasons, but particularly as it affords the most encouraging hope that can possibly be held out to his majesty's loyalists to persevere in their principles and exertions, at the same time that it affords a number of safe ports to the royal navy during the war. It is also political, in order to prevent vast numbers of distressed people from going to England, and throwing themselves and families, helpless and ruined, upon national bounty for maintenance and support. It is humane and just, from a consideration of the repeated declarations that have been made, that "it was the gracious and firm resolution of his majesty and the British nation to pre-preserving the exterior territories of the British serve, in every just and necessary measure, for nation and empire. the redemption of his majesty's faithful Ameri Relying with the fullest confidence upon na can subjects from the tyranny and oppression | tional justice and compassion to our fidelity and distresses, we can entertain no doubts but | to our most gracious sovereign, or of our unalthat Great Britain will prevent the ruin of her terable predilection in favor of the British nation American friends, at every risk short of certain and government, whom may God long protect destruction to herself. But if compelled, by and preserve, if, in consequence thereof, we adversity of misfortune, from the wicked and thus humbly implore that your majesty, and perfidious combinations and designs of nu- the parliament, would be graciously pleased, in merous and powerful enemies abroad, and the tenderness of our fears, and in pity to our more criminal and dangerous enemies at home, distresses, to solicit, by your ambassadors at an idea should be formed by Great Britain of the courts of foreign sovereigns, the aid of relinquishing her American colonies to the such powerful and good allies, as to your usurpation of congress, we thus solemnly call majesty and parliament, in your great wisdom God to witness, that we think the colonies can and discretion, may seem meet. Or if such a never be so happy or so free as in a constitu- measure should in any manner be thought intional connection with, and dependence on compatible with the dignity and interest of our Great Britain; convinced, as we are, that to be sovereign and the nation, we most humbly and a British subject, with all its consequences, is ardently supplicate and entreat, that, by deputo be the happiest and freest member of any ties or ambassadors, nominated and appointed civil society in the known world-we, there- by your majesty's suffering American loyalists, fore, in justice to our members, in duty to our- they may be permitted to solicit and obtain selves, and in fidelity to our posterity, must not, from other nations that interference, aid and cannot refrain from making this public declara- alliance, which, by the blessing of Almighty tion and appeal to the faithful subjects of every God, may, in the last fatal and ultimate government, and the compassionate sovereign extreme, save and deliver us, his majesty's of every people, in every nation and kingdom American loyalists, who, we maintain, in every of the world, that our principles are the prin- one of the colonies, compose a great majority ciples of the virtuous and free; that our suffer- of the inhabitants, and those too the first in ings are the sufferings of unprotected loyalty, point of opulence and consequence, from the and persecuted fidelity; that our cause is the ruinous system of congressional independence cause of legal and constitutional government, and republican tyranny, detesting rebellion as throughout the world; that, opposed by princi- we do,, and preferring a subjection to any ples of republicanism, and convinced, from power in Europe, to the mortifying debaserecent observation, that brutal violence, merci- ment of a state of slavery, and a life of insult, less severity, relentless cruelty, and discretion-under the tyranny of congressional usurpation, ary outrages are the distinguished traits and ruling principles of the present system of congressional republicanism, our aversion is unconquerable, irreconcilable. - That we are attached to monarchical government, from past and happy experience-by duty, and by choice. That, to oppose insurrections, and to listen to the requests of people so circumstanced as we are, is the common interest of all mankind in civil society. That to support our rights, is to support the rights of every subject of legal government; and that to afford us relief, is at once the duty and security of every prince and sovereign on earth. Our appeal, therefore, is just; and our claim to aid and assistance is extensive and universal. But if, reflecting on the uncertain events of war, and sinking under the gloomy prospect of public affairs, from the divisions and contests unhappily existing in the great councils of the nation, any apprehensions should have been excited in our breasts with respect to the issue of the American war, we humbly hope it cannot, even by the most illiberal, be imputed to us as an abatement of our unshaken loyalty HISTORY OF JOHN BULL'S CHILDREN. [We find the following in the "Maryland Gazette," of August, 1776, into which it was copied from the "London Chronicle." Those who have read the history of the "Foresters," will easily take up the idea, that the design of one of those articles may have been copied from the other. We have followed the copy, as it was printed at the time. It will amuse those who know enough of history to understand it, and perhaps provoke some to read that they may understand.] I, sir Humphry Polesworth, who formerly gave the world a true and faithful account of John Bull, and of his mother, and sister, and wives, and his servants, now write the history of his children, and how they were got, and how they were educated, and what befel them. Courteous reader, if thou hast any curiosity to know these things, read the following chapters and learn. self, and his children nothing; how he made choice of fair George, the gentle shepherd, for his house steward, because he could tell, without the book, that two and three made five, and had the multiplication table by heart. Chap. I. Of seven natural children, which | of his exploits, and said he had done all himJohn Bull had in his younger days by Doll Secretary, his mother's maid; namely, three boys, John, jun. or Master Jacky, Yorky, and Jerry; four girls, Penelope, Mary, Virgey, and Caroline. How the old lady would suffer no bastards in her family; and how the poor infants were turned adrift on the fish ponds as soon as born; how they landed on the western shore, and were there nursed by a wild bear, all under the green wood tree. Chap. II. How John disowned them, and left them to get over the children's disorders the best way they could, without paying a farthing for nurses, or apothecary bills; and how, as soon as they had cut their eye teeth, and were able to walk alone, John claimed them for his own. Chap. III. How Master Jacky turned fisherman and ship-carpenter; Yorky and Jerry drove a great trade; Miss Penny dealt in flour, called the Maid of the Mill, and never courtseyed to any body: How Mary and Virgey set up a snuff-shop, and Caroline turned dry-salter, and sold indigo; how they all flourished exceedingly, and laid out every penny they earned in their father's warehouse. Chap. X. The whole stewardship of fair George; how he neglected to protest Louis Baboon's note of hand on the day of payment, released lord Strutt from a mortgage on his manor of Eastland; how he took an aversion to cider, and would allow none to be drank in his family; how he rummaged every man's chest for pen, ink, and paper, and obliged those he catched writing to stand a-top of the table, with a wooden neckcloth under their chin, while he counted sixty times sixty: and how this is called the gentle shepherd's benefit of clergy unto this day. Chap. XI. How fair George took an antipathy to John's children, because he said they put nothing into the box at Christmas; and when they came to pay their shop accounts, they brought in their money at the back door; how he advised John to brand them on the far buttock, as they do stray cattle, that he might know them to be his own. Chap. XII. How John's children rode restiff, and swore they would not have the broad R. stampt on their b-ck s-des: how John, in heating the irons, burnt his own fingers most Chap. IV. Of two children more, which John had afterwards in lawful wedlock, viz., a boy which he called Georgey, after his great patron, and a girl, which he called Peg, after his sister Margaret; how he crammed them with sugar-d-ly; how all his neighbors laughed, and plums, and how they remained sickly, ricketty brats at this day. Chap. V. How young Master Baboon, old Louis' only son, fell in love with Miss Virgey; and how he came behind with intent to ravish her; how she squealed and alarmed her dad. Chap. VI. How John called for his stick and his barge, and crossed the pond to save his daughter's virtue; how young Louis gave him a confounded rap on his fingers, and drove him back, and then at his daughter again. Chap. VII. How her brother Jack came to her assistance, and threw young Louis on his back; how old Louis Baboon flew to help his son, and carried lord Strutt along with him; how John Bull returned and mustered all his children at his back, and to it they went. Chap. VIII. How they had a long tustle; how John's children saved their old dad from a broken head, and helped to seize young Louis and tie him; how the old folks agreed to leave young Louis in custody, and drink | friends themselves; and how John made his children pay a share of the reckoning without giving them any of the drink. Chap. IX. How John in his cups bragged fair George could not find him a plaster. Chap. XIII. How John, in a passion, kicked fair George down stairs, and rung up other servants; how they advised him to consult his wife; and how Mrs. Bull bid him let his children alone; that, tho' born in sin, they were his own flesh and blood, and needed no stamp to shew it; how John took her advice, and let the irons cool again; and how some suspected if John's fingers had not smarted, he would not have complied so soon. Chap. XIV. A dialogue on education, between fair George and lame Will; how Will proved it to be both cruel and impolitic to pinch children till they cry, and then pinch them for crying; and how George answered and said nothing. Chap. XV. How John, by means of his new servants, became beloved of his children, and respected by his neighbors; how he obliged Louis Baboon to beat down the wall of Ecclesdown castle, because it overlooked his pond, and harbored sea-gulls to gobble up his fish; how he made him also pay up his note of hand, and how lord Strutt But, Mr. Printer, I have given you enough to judge of the general plan of this history. | the English nation; George III. was not Pray let me have your opinion as to the publi- obeyed. In vain the states of Holland encation. My notion at present is, to send it treated the United States of America the parabroad in six-penny numbers, and engage the don of the unhappy Asgill. The gibbet, country carriers to take it down; it may pass erected in front of his prison, did not cease to for political an hundred miles from town. offer to his eyes those dreadful preparatives more awful than death itself. In these circumstances, and almost reduced to despair, the mother of the unfortunate victim bethought herself that the minister of a king armed I against her own nation might succeed in obtaining that which was refused to her king. Madame Asgill wrote to the count de Vergennes a letter, the eloquence of which, independent of oratorical forms, is that of all people and all languages, because it derives its power from the first and noblest sentiment of our nature. CASE OF ASGILL, AN OFFICER IN THE ENGLISH GUARDS, CONDEMNED TO DEATH BY THE AMERICANS IN REPRISAL FOR THE EXECUTION BY THE BRITISH, OF CAPT. HUDDY. The following narrative and letters we have copied from the correspondence of baron Grimm. The baron was led to notice it from its being made the ground-work of a French tragedy called Abdir, by Sauvigny, represented at Paris in January, 1789. -Bost. Dai. Adv. You can well remember the general interest which sir - Asgill inspired, a young officer in the English guards, who was made prisoner and condemned to death by the Americans in reprisal for the death of captain Huddy, who was hanged by order of capt. Lippincott. The public prints all over Europe resounded with the unhappy catastrophe, which for eight months impended over the life of this young officer. The extreme grief of his mother, the sort of delirium which clouded the mind of his sister, at hearing the dreadful fate which menaced the life of her brother, interested every feeling mind in the fate of that unfortunate family. The general curiosity in regard to the events of the war, yielded, if I may say so, to the interest which young Asgill inspired, and the first question asked of all vessels that arrived from any port in North America, was always an enquiry into the fate of that young man. It is known that Asgill was thrice conducted to the foot of the gibbet, and that thrice general Washington, who could not bring himself to commit this crime of policy without a great struggle, suspended his punishment: his humanity and justice made him hope that the English general would deliver over to him the author of the crime which Asgill was condemned to expiate. Clinton, either ill advised, or insensible to the fate of the young Asgill, persisted in refusing to deliver up the barbarous Lippincott. In vain the king of England, at whose feet this unfortunate family fell down, had given orders to surrender up to the Americans the author of a crime which dishonored The two memorials which are subjoined merit being preserved as historical monuments. LETTER FROM LADY ASGILL TO THE COMPTE DE VERGENNES. "Sir-If the politeness of the French court will permit a stranger to address it, it cannot be doubted but that she who unites in herself, all the more delicate sensations with which an individual can be penetrated, will be received favorably by a nobleman, who reflects honor not only on his nation, but on human nature. The object on which I implore your assistance is too heart-rending to be dwelt upon; most probably the public report of it has already reached you; this relieves me from the burden of so mournful a duty. My son, my only son, dear to me as he is brave, amiable as he is beloved, only nineteen years of age, a prisoner of war, in consequence of the capitulation of York Town, is at present confined in America as an object of reprisal. Shall the innocent suffer the fate of the guilty? Figure to yourself, sir, the situation of a family in these circumstances. Surrounded, as I am, with objects of distress, bowed down by fear and grief, words are wanting to express what I feel, and to paint such a scene of misery; my husband, given over by his physicians some hours before the arrival of this news, not in a situation to be informed of it; my daughter, attacked by a fever accompanied by delirium, speaking of her brother in tones of distress, and without an interval of reason unless it be to listen to some circumstance which may console her heart. Let your sensibility, sir, paint to you my profound, my inexpressible misery, and plead in my favor; a word from you, like a voice from heaven, would liberate us from desolation, from the last degree of misfortune. I know how far |