An ENGLISHMAN.
To the PRINTER.
Lord B. and his toad eater the D. of G. both knew the contents of Dr.
Musgrave’s letter many weeks before it made its appearance. They had
concerted many schemes to suppress its publication; but all these
schemes, however artfully managed, proved abortive. Lord B. who came
fresh from the school of politics at Rome, embraced still the same
propensity for absolute monarchy as he did before he departed from
England. He is grown, indeed, more cautious, more masked, but not a jot
less enterprising. Foiled in his well-concealed attempts to prevent the
publication of Dr. Musgrave’s letter, his next attempt was to render the
publication of it inoperative and ineffectual. The difficulty lay in
compassing this desirable end. He knew very well that one ******** had
married a cast-off, who formerly held no mean rank in his toad eater’s
seraglio: this same ********, his Lordship knew had been confidently
intrusted at different times, with the most important secrets of Mr.
Wilkes, the Chevalier D’Eon, and Lord Temple, and therefore the only
fit person to be confidentially entrusted, as far as his Lordship might
deem necessary, with the opening a negociation for a treaty of union
between the Earls of B—e, T——e, E———t, C———m, Lord H———d, and the
petulant Duke of B———. Such a coalition, with his toad eater at the
head, he rightly conceived, would be able to stem any torrent of
opposition, were it to roll mountains high. But his Lordship, it will
be seen, counted without his host. His first intention was to dispatch
******** to Stow. This measure could not be carried into execution but
by another mode of application. ******** had already forfeited Lord
T——e’s confidence, but he did not care to acquaint either G. or B. with
this secret, which could not but be fatal to his own views; he therefore
artfully declined going to Stow himself, adding, that the embassy would
have greater weight, and probably better success, was the D. of G. to
wait in person on Lord T———. ******** pretended to know the very bait
that would tempt his Lordship; it was nothing less than a Dukedom, and
if he ********, was to make the offer, Lord T———e, he said, might doubt
the performance. By this device and advice of ********, B. and his toad
eater were easily betrayed into a fond belief of gaining over Lord T. to
their faction. Accordingly, the D. of G. was posted down to Stow, and
this truly courtly visit was immediately announced in every news-paper
throughout the kingdom. The success of this visit is no longer a mystery.
The wild, incoherent, crude plan of operations, were conveyed, without
loss of time, to Fonthill, and from Fonthill it soon arrived at Plymouth.
Dr. Musgrave finding this once formidable and blood-thirsty faction
tottering, and failing of support from Lord T. thought it a glorious
opportunity to crush the whole junto, by hanging them out to public view
and public odium. With this view, and to do justice to a brave, but
greatly injured people, the Doctor, with a courage not to be daunted,
published that well-timed letter, which has already unfilm’d the eyes of
every subject in the kingdom, and which, in a few days, will receive a
further elucidation from
_The_ BRITISH SPY.
To the PRINTER.
In my former letter I furnished your readers with an anecdote relative
to Mr. ********. This man, who is connected with his Grace the D. of G.
by the apron-string tenure; the present modish, and by much the strongest
of all holds, has been constantly and most secretly employed for these
last six weeks, as a go-between to the D. of G. and the Soi-disant
l’Homme de Charactere, M. D’Eon.
To throw a veil over this mysterious negociation, and in order to blind
the eyes of the prying public, the pretty Frenchman who lives in Petty
France, has for this fortnight past been roaring out in every coffee-house
he frequents, that Mr. ********, the go-between above-mentioned, has
betrayed his most sacred secrets to the D. of G. and the whole B———d
junto. This flimsy, gausy device, was no sooner made public, but it was
seen through by every tyro in politics. And the Frenchman was compelled
by his new employers to lay aside the mask. He was ordered by this new
sett of masters, who will always tyrannize over him in proportion to
the pension they give him: he was ordered I say flatly to deny every
circumstance in Dr. Musgrave’s patriotic letter, and boldly to assert,
“that he never entered into any treaty for the sale of his papers.”
Nothing is so easy to a Frenchman, especially if they have been once
initiated into the diplomatic corps, as to assert one thing for another,
where they know they cannot for the present moment be detected. But
what will the good people of England think of the veracity of this same
Frenchman, when I call upon him in this public manner to declare for
what reason, at whose instigation, and for what valuable consideration
in money, he suppressed the publication of _those three letters_ relative
to the late peace-makers?
I know, Mr. Printer, I speak ænigmatically to the generality of your
readers, when I talk of three letters. But the D. of B———d understands
me; Lord B—— understands me; and D’Eon, if he has any regard for truth,
ought to blush at the bare mention of those three letters. There is
but one moral tie can bind a French gentleman, that is, his word of
honour. Let D’Eon then, if he dare, lay his hand upon his Croix de St.
Louis, and swear, upon his _honour_, that he never received directly
or indirectly, without equivocation, or mental reservation, any money,
pension, emolument, or promise, for suppressing the publication of the
three letters in question, and he shall either be credited, or publickly
confuted, by
_The_ BRITISH SPY.
To the PRINTER.
Doctor Musgrave’s address to the freeholders of the county of Devon,
and the Chevalier D’Eon’s answer to it, having engrossed the public
attention, give me leave, first, to consider the nature and tendency of
the address, and then to make a few remarks on the Chevalier’s answer.
Mr. Musgrave has told us a series of facts within his own knowledge,
the authenticity of which are corroborated by the names of the parties
concerned, and the periods in which they were transacted. He tells us,
that Sir George Yonge, Mr. Fitzherbert, and other members of parliament,
informed him at different times, that the Chevalier D’Eon was really to
impeach three persons of selling the peace to the French—that Sir George
Yonge in particular told him, that he understood the charge could be
supported by written as well as by living evidence. By the direction of
Dr. Blackstone, Mr. Musgrave went to Lord Halifax _on the 10th of May,
1765_, and delivered to him an exact narrative of the intelligence he
had received at Paris concerning the late peace, and at the same time
gave him copies of four letters to and from Lord Hertford. _On the 17th
of May, 1765_, just seven days after he delivered the narrative to Lord
Halifax, Mr. Fitzherbert told the Doctor, that overtures were then making
to the Chevalier D’Eon to get his papers from him for a stipulated sum of
money. Lord Halifax, although repeatedly pressed by Doctor Musgrave to
enquire into the truth of the charge, first, objected to all public steps
that would lead to the truth, to avoid giving _an alarm_; and, at last,
absolutely refused to take any cognizance of it, either in private or
public. Thus frustrated in every application to the secretary of state,
the Doctor carried his papers to the Speaker, who very readily allowed
the expediency of their being laid before the House of Commons, but at
the same time peremptorily refused to promote the enquiry.
This, Sir, is the substance of Dr. Musgrave’s address, which carries with
it such a face of authenticity, that nothing but a public investigation
of the facts can exculpate the parties concerned. As to the tendency of
it, every unprejudiced reader must allow, that the public good, and not
an inclination to aggravate the guilt of any particular person, was his
object.
If the allegations contained in the address are not fairly stated—if
Doctor Musgrave has been guilty of injuring private characters, and
of imposing falshoods on the public—why, in God’s name, is he not
contradicted?—Why do not the accused exculpate themselves?—Why are not
the public undeceived?—Why should _they_ be silent whose conduct is
principally arraigned, and a vindication, such as it is, be published by
a man, whose veracity in this respect is by no means to be relied on? For
when his papers were purchased from him, the condition of the obligation
no doubt was, that their contents should be buried in oblivion.
When the official conduct of a secretary of state, or of any other
servant of the crown, is arraigned, the public have an undoubted right
to be satisfied either of their guilt or innocence, in order that the
law of the land may in either case take effect. When the character of
an honest man is unjustly and publicly attacked, he will not postpone
the vindication of his innocence until a legal enquiry can be set on
foot in a court of law; he ought to exculpate himself through the same
channel he has been accused. Therefore, until Doctor Blackstone tells us
the conversation that passed between him and Mr. Musgrave, previous to
his waiting on Lord Halifax—Until Lord Halifax informs us whether Doctor
Musgrave did or did not deliver to him a narrative of the intelligence he
had received at Paris, concerning the peace in 1764, and likewise publish
the copies of the four letters to and from Lord Hertford; which, as
they are of a public nature, his _politeness_ need not stumble at—Until
Sir George Yonge and Mr. Fitzherbert publicly deny every circumstance
relative to their several conversations with Doctor Musgrave, especially
what passed between Mr. Fitzherbert and him _on the 17th day of May,
1765_—And until the Speaker acquaints us with the reason why he allowed
the expediency of laying these important papers before the House of
Commons, and at the same time _refused to promote the enquiry_—Until all
these matters are promulged and sufficiently authenticated, the impartial
and dispassionate part of mankind must and will give credit to the facts
contained in the address.
I come now, Sir, to make a few remarks on the Chevalier D’Eon’s answer,
which I shall do with the same impartiality I have considered the
address, and leave the public to draw the line between the honest
sincerity of the Englishman, and the evasive _finesse_ of the Frenchman.
Monsieur le Chevalier, notwithstanding his long residence in England,
and the esteem and friendship he is favoured with from _some_ of the
inhabitants (the reason of which he knows best) still preserves his
_native_ insincerity and politeness. His letter to Dr. Musgrave is as
foreign to the purpose of an answer to the address, as the conduct of
our present ministry in suffering his master, the Grand Monarque, to
conquer Corsica, was foreign to the faith of treaty, and repugnant to the
interest of this kingdom—than which no two positions can be more opposite.
The Chevalier has very _politely_ passed some French compliments on
the doctor’s oratory and patriotism—has talked a good deal of his own
integrity and zeal for truth—blames him for naming a person of his _vast_
consequence in so public a manner, and manfully denies every circumstance
he is publicly known to have been concerned in at the time mentioned
in the address. But what does all this amount to with respect to Mr.
Musgrave’s allegations? He, indeed, very justly says, that the evidence
of the Chevalier would have been decisive at the time he urged Lord
Halifax to send for him to examine him, and to peruse his papers which
he _then_ had in his possession; but in his address to the freeholders of
Devon, he neither desires nor expects any proofs from him _now_, because
he either knows, or shrewdly suspects, that no written evidence is now to
be found in his custody.
The Chevalier desires to know the person or persons in this country,
who would have presumed to make an overture to him for the sale of his
papers—I wish to God I could tell him!—or rather that I could tell the
public—for the Chevalier himself, I dare say, wants no information in
that affair. It is much to be wished, however, that Lord Halifax or the
Speaker had examined the Chevalier, and that it might at least have
been known what sum was paid by England, and for what consideration it
was given to France, at the conclusion of the last ever memorable and
glorious peace.