ransom, he says that he had complained, and even appealed to the public, but his efforts with the ministry were in vain. "Some were ingen uous enough to own that they could not think of involving this distressed nation into another war for our private concerns. In short, our rights, for the present, are sacrificed to national convenience; and I must confess that, although I may lose five-and-twenty thousand pounds by their acquiescence to this breach of faith in the Spaniards, I think they are in the right to teta porize, considering the critical situation of this country, convulsed in every part by poison infused by anonymous, wicked, and incendiary writ ers." Permit nie now, Sir William, to address my-tary skill and capacity." As to the Manilla seif personally to you, by way of thanks for the honor of your correspondence. You are by no means undeserving of notice; and it may be of consequence even to Lord Granby to have it determined, whether or no the man, who has praised him so lavishly, be himself deserving of praise When you returned to Europe, you zealously undertook the cause of that gallant army, by whose bravery at Manilla your own fortune had been established. You complained, you threatened, you even appealed to the public in print. By what accident did it happen that, in the midst of all this bustle, and all these clamors for justice to your injured troops, the name of the Manilla ransom was suddenly buried in a profound, and, since that time, an uninterrupted silence? Did the ministry suggest any motives to you strong enough to tempt a man of honor to desert and betray the cause of his fellow-soldiers? Was it that blushing ribbon, which is now the perpetual ornament of your person? Or was it that regiment, which you afterward (a thing unprecedented among soldiers) sold to Colonel Gisborne ? Or was it that government [of Yarmouth], the full pay of which you are contented to hold, with the half-pay of an Irish colonel? And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude yourself, unthought of, uncalled for, upon the patience of the public? Are your flatteries of the Commander-in-chief directed to another regi-dom. I could take the Decalogue, and say to ment, which you may again dispose of on the same honorable terms? We know your prudence, Sir William, and I should be sorry to stop your preferment. JUNIUS. His pecuniary transactions he explained in 9 manner which ought to have satisfied any can. did mind, that there was nothing in them either dishonest or dishonorable. As to his being re warded with office and preferment, while his companions in arms were neglected, this was certainly not to be imputed to him as a crime, since his services merited all he receive 1. Still, he may, on this account, have been more willing (as Junius insinuated) to remain quiet. He closed his second letter thus: "Junius makes much and frequent use of interrogations: they are arms that may be easily turned against him self. I could, by malicious interrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtuous man in the king. one man, 'Did you never steal?' to the next, 'Did you never commit murder?' and to Junius himself, who is putting my life and conduct to the rack, 'Did you never bear false witness against thy neighbor?' Junius must easily see, that unless he affirms to the contrary in his real Sir William Draper, in reply to this Letter, name, some people, who may be as ignorant of said, concerning Lord Granby, “My friend's po- him as I am, will be apt to suspect him of hav. litical engagements I know not, so can not pre-ing deviated a little from the truth; therefore let tend to explain them, or assert their consist- Junius ask no more questions. You bite against ency." He does, however, reassert "his mili- a file; cease, viper!" LETTER TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, Knight of THE BATH SIR,-An academical education has given you an unlimited command over the most beautiful figures of speech. Masks, hatchets, racks, and vipers dance through your letters in a!! the mazes of metaphorical contusion. These are the gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination-the melancholy madness of poetry without the inspiration. I will not contend with you in point of composition. You are a scholar, Sir William, and, if I am truly informed, you write Latin with almost as much purity as English. Suffer me, thon, for I am a plain unlettered man, to continue that style of interrogation which suits my capacity, and to which, considering the readiness of 1 Dated March 3, 1769. This was the Io Triun phe of Js in closing the correspondence. your answers, you ought to have no objection Even Mr. Bingley promises to answer, if put to the torture. Do you then really think that, if I were to ask a most virtuous man whether he ever committed theft, or murder, it would disturb his peace of mind? Such a question might perhaps discompose the gravity of his muscles, but I believe it 2 This man was a bookseller, who had been suupœnaed by the government in the case of Wilkes. For some reason, he refused to answer the questions put by either party, and made himself the laughing-stock of both, by declaring under oath that he would never answer until put to the torture. He was imprisoned a number of months for contempt of court and at las released would little affect the tranquillity of his conscience. Examine your own breast, Sir William, and you will discover that reproaches and inquiries have no power to afflict either the man of unblemished integrity, or the abandoned profligate. It is the middle, compound character which alone is vulnerable: the man who, without firmness enough to avoid a dishonorable action, has feeling enough to be ashamed of it. I thank you for the hint of the Decalogue, and shall take an opportunity of applying it to some of your most virtuous friends in both houses of Parliament. You seem to have dropped the affair of your regiment; so let it rest. When you are appointed to another, I dare say you will not sell it, either for a gross sum, or for any annuity upon lives. I am truly glad (for really, Sir William, I am not your enemy, nor did I begin this contest with you) that you have been able to clear yourself of a crime, though at the expense of the highest indiscretion. You say that your half pay was given you by way of pension. I will not dwell upon the singularity of uniting in your own person two sorts of provision, which, in their own nature, and in all military and parliamentary views, are incompatible; but I call upon you to ustify that declaration, wherein you charge your prince with having done an act in your favor notoriously against law. The half pay, both in Ireland and in England, is appropriated by Parliament; and if it be given to persons who, like you, are legally incapable of holding it, it is a breach of law. It would have been more decent in you to have called this dishonorable transaction by its true name; a job to accommodate two persons, by particular interest and management at the Castle. What sense must government have had of your services, when the rewards they have given you are only a disgrace to you! And now, Sir William, I shall take my leave of you forever. Motives, very different from any apprehension of your resentment, make it impossible you should ever know me. In truth, you have some reason to hold yourself :ndebted to me. From the lessons I have given, you may collect a profitable instruction for your future life. They will either teach you so to regulate your conduct as to be able to set the most malicious inquiries at defiance, or, if that be a lost hope, they will teach you prudence enough not to attract the public attention to a character which will only pass without censure when it passes without observation. JUNIUS. Junius added the following note when the le ters were collected into a volume, after the death of the Marquess of Granby: "It has been said, and I believe truly, that it was signified to Sir William Draper, at the re quest of Lord Granby, that he should desist from writing in his Lordship's defense. Sir William Draper certainly drew Junius forward to say more of Lord Granby's character than he originally intended. He was reduced to the dilemma of either being totally silenced, or of sup. porting his first letter. Whether Sir William had a right to reduce him to this dilemma, or to call upon him for his name, after a voluntary attack on his side, are questions submitted to the candor of the public. The death of Lord Granby was lamented by Junius. He undoubtedly owed some compensations to the public, and seemed determined to acquit himself of them. In private life, he was unquestionably that good man, who, for the interest of his country, ought to have been a great one. 'Bonum virum facile dixeris; magnum libenter."3 I never spoke of him with resentment. His mistakes in public conduct did not arise either from want of sentiment or want of judgment, but in general from the difficulty of saying No! to the bad people who surrounded him. As for the rest, the friends of Lord Granby should remember, that he himself thought proper to condemn, retract, and disavow, by a most solemn declaration in the House of Commons, that very system of political conduct which Junius had held forth to the disapproba tion of the public."4 LETTER TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.1 MY LORD,-If the measures in which you "You would readily call him a good man, and be glad to call him a great one." This refers to the change of Lord Granby's iews and feelings after Lord Chatham's speech of anuary 9th, 1770: see page 114. As already stated, page 114, he withdrew from the Duke of Grafton's administration, apologizing for the vote he had given for seating Colonel Luttrell in the House, deploring it as the greatest misfortune of his life. Dated May 30th, 1769. This, like the first letter, has great regularity of structure. It begins with an artful apology for its bitterness, representing the Duke as utterly incorrigible; as having such a reliance on his purchased majority in Parliament, and have been most successful had been supporteu such audacity in vice, as made him treat with con tempt all endeavors for his good, and left room only for the writer "to consider his character and con duct as a subject of curious speculation." Junius then goes on to speak of, (1.) The stain which rested on the Duke's descent, and his resemblance to his reputed ancestors. (2.) His education under Lord Chat ham, and his early desertion of his patron and of all others who had ever confided in him. (3.) His management under the third ministry of Chatham, to engross power and influence by a union with the Duke of Bedford and a marriage into his family. (4.) His supposed design, by this union, to obtain the mastery of the closet, and take the place of the Favorite. (5, by any tolerable appearance of argument, I should have thought my time not ill employed in continuing to examine your conduct as a minister, and stating it fairly to the public. But when I see questions of the first national importance carried as they have been, and the first principles of the Constitution openly violated without argument or decency, I confess I give up the cause in despair. The meanest of your predecessors had abilities sufficient to give a color to their measures. If they invaded the rights of the people, they did not dare to offer a direct insult to their understanding; and, in former times, the most venal Parliaments made it a condition, in their bargain with the minister, that he should furnish them with some plausible pretenses for selling their country and themselves. You have had the merit of introducing a more compendious system of government and logic. You neither address yourself to the passions nor to the understanding, but simply to the touch. You apply yourself immediately to the feelings of your friends, who, contrary to the forms of Parliament, never enter heartily into a debate until they have divided.2 some excuse to posterity, & ad to ourselves, for submitting to your administration. It he abilities of a great minister, if not the integrity of a patriot, or the fidelity of a friend, show us, at least, the firmness of a man. For the sake of your mistress, the lover shall be spared. I will not lead her into public, as you have done, nor will I insult the memory of departed beauty. Her sex, which alone made her amiable in your eyes, makes her respectable in mine.3 The character of the reputed ancestors of some men has made it possible for their descendants to be vicious in the extreme, without being degenerate. Those of your Grace, for instance, left no distressing examples of virtue, even to their legitimate posterity; and you may look back with pleasure to an illustrious pedigree, in which heraldry has not left a single good quality upon record to insult or upbraid you. You have better proofs of your descent, my Lord, than the register of a marriage, or any troublesome inheritance of reputation. There are some hereditary strokes of character, by which a family may be as clearly distinguished as by the blackest features in the human face. Charles the First lived and died a hypocrite. Charles the Second was a hypocrite of another sort, and should have died upon the same scaffold. the distance of a century, we see their different characters happily revived and blended in your Grace. Sullen and severe without religion, prof. ligate without gayety, you live like Charles the Second, without being an amiable companion, and, for aught I know, may die as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr. At You had already taken your degrees with credit in those schools in which the English nobility are formed to virtue, when you were introduced to Lord Chatham's protection. From Newmarket, White's, and the Opposition, he gave you to the world with an air of popularity, Relinquishing, therefore, all idle views of amendment to your Grace, or of benefit to the public, let me be permitted to consider your character and conduct merely as a subject of curious speculation. There is something in both which distinguishes you not only from all other ministers, but all other men It is not that you do wrong by design, but that you should never do right by mistake. It is not that your indolence and your activity have been equally misapplied, but that the first uniform principle, or, if I may so call it, the genius of your life, should have carried you through every possible change and contradiction of conduct, without the momentary imputation or color of a virtue; and that the wildest spirit of inconsistency should never once have betrayed you into a wise or honorable action. This, I own, gives an air of singularity to your fortune, as well as to your disposition. Let us look back together to a sort and amusement. Junius attacked him on the scene, in which a mind like yours will find noth- subject at that time (though not under his present ing to repent of. Let us try, my Lord, how well signature), remarking ironically, "You have exceed. you have supported the various relations in which ed my warmest expectations. I did not think you you stood, to your sovereign, your country, your capable of exhibiting the 'lovely Thais' at the Opera friends, and yourself. Give us, if it be possible, House, of sitting a whole night by her side, of calling for her carriage yourself, and of leading her to it His fluctuating policy in respect to America. (6.) His through a crowd of the first men and women in this betrayal of the Corsicans into the hands of France, kingdom. To a mind like yours, such an outrage to and his permitting the French to gain the ascend- your wife, such a triumph over decency, such an inency in the Turkish Divan. (7.) His alienating the sult to the company, must have afforded the highest affections of the people from the King by his home gratification. It was, I presume, your novissima voadministration, "sometimes allowing the laws to luptas." Junius very dexterously throws in this be scandalously relaxed, and sometimes violently mention of the Duke of Grafton's dissolute habits to stretched beyond their tone." He concludes by introduce the next paragraph, which traces his oritelling the Duke, as the only hope of his being ren-gin from the most debauched of English monarchs. dored useful to mankind, "I mean to make you a negative instructor to your successors forever." "About this time, as appears from the Court Calendar, one hundred and ninety-two members of the House of Commons had places under government, and were thus held in absolute subserviency to the minister; to say nothing of the more direct use of money alluded to above. 3 The Duke of Grafton had outraged public decency a few months before, by appearing openly with his mistress, Miss Parsons, in places of general re The first Duke of Grafton was a natural son of Charles II., and the present Duke a great-grandchild of that debauched monarch. This reference to the fact was of itself sufficiently mortifying; but it de rives double severity from the ingenious turn by which the discordant qualities of his two royal an cestors are made to meet and mingle in the person of his Grace. which young men usually set out with, and sel- | you to yourself, and to withdraw his nam from dum preserve; grave and plausible enough to be an administration which had been formed on the hought fit for business; too young for treach- credit of it. You had then a prospect of friendery; and, in short, a patriot of no unpromising ships better suited to your genius, and mors expectations. Lord Chatham was the earliest likely to fix your disposition. Marriage is the object of your political wonder and attachment; point on which every rake is stationary at last, yet you deserted him, upon the first hopes that and truly, my Lord, you may well be weary of offered of an equal share of power with Lord the circuit you have taken, for you have now Rockingham. When the Duke of Cumberland's fairly traveled through every sign in the political first negotiation failed, and when the Favorite zodiac, from the Scorpion in which you stung was pushed to the last extremity, you saved him, Lord Chatham, to the hopes of a Virgin in the by joining with an administration in which Lord house of Bloomsbury. One would think that Chatham had refused to engage. Still, how- you had had sufficient experience of the frailty ever, he was your friend, and you are yet to ex- of nuptial engagements, or, at least, that such a plain to the world why you consented to act friendship as the Duke of Bedford's might have without him, or why, after uniting with Lord been secured to you by the auspicious marriage Rockingham, you deserted and betrayed him. of your late Duchess with his nephew. But ties You complained that no measures were taken to of this tender nature can not be drawn too close; satisfy your patron, and that your friend, Mr. and it may possibly be a part of the Duke of Wilkes, who had suffered so much for the party, Bedford's ambition, after making her an honest had been abandoned to his fate. They have woman, to work a miracle of the same sort upon since contributed, not a little, to your present your Grace. This worthy nobleman has long plenitude of power; yet, I think, Lord Chatham dealt in virtue. There has been a large conhas less reason than ever to be satisfied; and as sumption of it in his own family; and in the way for Mr. Wilkes, it is, perhaps, the greatest mis- of traffic, I dare say, he has bought and sold fortune of his life that you should have so many more than half the representative integrity of compensations to make in the closet for your the nation.8 former friendship with him. Your gracious master understands your character, and makes you a persecutor, because you have been a friend.6 Lord Chatham formed his last administration upon principles which you certainly concurred in, or you could never have been placed at the head of the treasury. By deserting those principles, and by acting in direct contradiction to them, in which he found you were secretly supported in the closet, you soon forced him to leave See on this subject the sketch of Lord Chatham's lie, p. 66. The Duke of Grafton had been the protégé and adherent of his Lordship; but he joined the administration of Lord Rockingham in 1765, as Secretary of State, while Chatham declared to the House that he could not give his confidence or support to the new ministers. Still, he stated in the same speech that "some of them asked his opinion before they accepted, and that he advised them to do it." The Duke of Grafton may have been one of the number, and in that case, the present is one of the many instances in which Junius perverts facts for the sake of wounding an adversary. Cooke, speaking of this period in his History of Party, vol. iii., 105, says, "The Duke of Grafton, the present premier, although still a young man, had passed through several shades of politics. During the struggle upon the subject of general warrants, be had strenuously supported Wilkes; and he had, since that time, repeated his assurances of protection and friendship. When placed by Lord Chatbam at the head of the treasury, he had, through his own brother, conveyed a similar message to the impatient democrat, who, inflated with hope, returned to England to receive his pardon. He found, however, upon his arrival, that nothing was intended in h's favor. He revenged himself by writing and publishing a severe letter to the Duke of Grafton, taxing him with faithlessness and prevarication; and be returned in bitter disappointment to his exile and his poverty" In a political view this union is not imprudent. The favor of princes is a perishable commodity. You have now a strength sufficient to command the closet; and if it be necessary to betray one friendship more, you may set even Lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stuart Mackenzie may possibly remember what use the Duke of Bedford usually makes of his power; and our gracious sover 7 Lord Chatham did ultimately withdraw his name for this reason, October, 1768; though his previous illness had prevented him from taking the lead of the government, and had thus given the Duke of Grafton an opportunity to gain the King's favor, which could be permanently secured only by abandoning the principles and friendship of Lord Chat ham. The facts here referred to betray a snameless profligacy in all the parties concerned. While the Duke of Grafton was parading his mistress before the public at the Opera House, his wife had an adulterous connection with Lord Upper Ossory, nephew of the Duke of Bedford. For this she was divorced and was soon after married by her paramour, who thus brought her into the Bedford circle. Incredible as it may seem, the Duke of Grafton became in a short time affianced to a member of the same circle. Miss Wrottesley, a piece of the Duchess of Bedford ("a virgin of the house of Bloomsbury"); so that Junius represents it as the ambition of the Duke of Bedford, after making the adultress "an honest woman, to work a miracle of the same sort" on her former husband, the Duke of Grafton! This exposure of their shame would have satisfied most persons; but Junius, in the next paragraph, dexterously turns the wnole to a new purpose, viz., that of inflaming th public mind against the minister, as designing, by this connection, to "gain strength sufficient to com mand the closet;" imputing to him the unpopular friendship of Lord Bute, and a design to betray it' 9 When the Duke of Bedford became minister in 1763, be forced the King against his wishes (as it eign, 1 doubt not, rejoices at this first appear-saw the weakness of a distracted ministry, and ance of union among his servants. His late Majesty, under the happy influence of a family connection between his ministers, was relieved from the cares of government. A more active prince may, perhaps, observe with suspicion, by what degrees an artful servant grows upon his master, from the first unlimited professions of duty and attachment to the painful representation of the necessity of the royal service, and soon, in regular progression, to the humble insolence of dictating in all the obsequious forms of peremptory submission. The interval is carefully employed in forming connections, creating interests, collecting a party, and laying the foundation of double marriages, until the deluded prince, who thought he had found a creature prostituted to his service, and insignificant enough to be always dependent upon his pleasure, finds him at last too strong to be commanded, and too formidable to be removed. were justified in treating you with contempt. They would probably have yielded in the first instance rather than hazard a rupture with this country; but, being once engaged, they can not retreat without dishonor. Common sense foresees consequences which have escaped your Grace's penetration. Either we suffer the French to make an acquisition, the importance of which you have probably no conception of, or we op pose them by an underhand management, which only disgraces us in the eyes of Europe, without answering any purpose of policy or prudence. From secret, indiscreet assistance, a transition to some more open, decisive measures becomes unavoidable, till at last we find ourselves principals in the war, and are obliged to hazard every thing for an object which might have originally been obtained without expense or danger. I am not versed in the politics of the North; but this I believe is certain, that half the money you have distributed to carry the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, or even your secretary's share in the last subscription, would have kept the Turks at your Was it economy, my Lord? or did the coy resistance you have constantly met with in the British Senate make you despair of corrupting the Divan? Your friends, indeed, have the first claim upon your bounty; but if five hund red pounds a year can be spared in pension to Sir John Moore, it would not have disgraced you to have allowed something to the secret service of the public.13 Your Grace's public conduct, as a minister, is but the counterpart of your private historythe same inconsistency, the same contradictions. In America we trace you, from the first opposi-devotion.12 tion to the Stamp Act, on principles of convenience, to Mr. Pitt's surrender of the right; then forward to Lord Rockingham's surrender of the fact; then back again to Lord Rockingham's declaration of the right; then forward to taxation with Mr. Townsend; and, in the last instance, from the gentle Conway's undetermined discretion, to blood and compulsion with the Duke of Bedford. 10 Yet, if we may believe the You will say, perhaps, that the situation of af simplicity of Lord North's eloquence, at the open-fairs at home demanded and engrossed the whole ing of next sessions you are once more to be patron of America. Is this the wisdom of a great minister, or is it the vibration of a pendulum? Had you no opinion of your own, my Lord? Or was it the gratification of betraying every party with which you had been united, and of deserting every political principle in which you had concurred? of your attention. Here, I confess you have been active. An amiable, accomplished prince ascends the throne under the happiest of all auspices, the acclamations and united affections of his subjects. The first measures of his reign, and even the odium of a Favorite, were not able to shake their attachments. Your services, my Lord, have been more successful. Since you were permit Your enemies may turn their eyes without re-ted to take the lead, we have seen the natural gret from this admirable system of provincial government: they will find gratification enough in the survey of your domestic and foreign policy. If, instead of disowning Lord Shelburne, the British court had interposed with dignity and firmness, you know, my Lord, that Corsica would never have been invaded." The French was understood), to dismiss Mr. Stuart Mackenzie, brother of Lord Bute. Mr. Mackenzie was restored as soon as the Duke retired; and Junius here describes, in the most graphic manner, the way in which the same man and his associates might be expected to go on again, till he reached "the humble insolence of dictating in all the obsequious forms of peremptory submission," as was done to George II. This is substantially true. "The Duke of Grafton," says a well-informed writer," occasionally fa vored Mr. Pitt's opinion, occasionally the Marquess of Rockingham's, and at last sided with Charles Townsend in a determined resolution to carry the system of taxation into effect at all hazards." 11 Lord Shelburne, then Secretary of Foreign Af airs. had instructed the English embassador at the effects of a system of government at once both odious and contemptible. We have seen the laws sometimes scandalously relaxed, sometimes violently stretched beyond their tone. We have court of France to remonstrate in spirited terms against the occupation of Corsica by the French. But Grafton and the rest of the ministry disavowed the instructions of their own secretary, and Lord Shelburne resigned on the 21st of October, 1768, un der a sense of injury. 12 It was the policy of Great Britain, touching "the politics of the North," to prevent Russia from being weakened by Turkey in the war then exist ing between them. French officers were aiding the Turks and disciplining their troops. Junius intimates that a small sum comparatively might have prevented this, and served not only to curtail the growing power of the French in the Divan, but to have transferred the ascendency to the English. 13 Sir John Moore was an old Newmarket so quaintance of the Duke, who had squandered his private fortune, and had recently obtained from his Grace a pension of £500 a year. |