The writers of these squibs had measured their man perfectly. They could become furious, caustic, ironic or insulting—that is, _serious_—with the Governor and the rest of the men around him; but the proper approach to Francis Harison was through satire. From the _Journal_ he received a systematic dose of it. For six months he absorbed the barbs of ridicule while maintaining an air of indifference. Finally, able to stand the badgering no longer, he whirled on his tormentors and attempted to repay them in their own coin: Supposing another should turn the tables upon the authors of these infamous and fictitious advertisements, how easily might it be done? The real or imagined defects of the _Amsterdam Crane_, the _Connecticut Mastiff_, _Phillip Baboon, Senior_, _Phillip Baboon, Junior_, the _Scythian Unicorn_, and _Wild Peter from the Banks of the Rhine_ might be enlarged upon, and placed in a most ludicrous light.[23] Since the crass and clumsy Harison was devoid of the slightest capacity for satire, he inevitably suffered when he picked up the weapon that was wielded so devastatingly by his enemies. The only interesting thing about this paragraph is that it identifies the men of the Popular party who contributed most to the _Journal_: Rip Van Dam, William Smith, Lewis Morris, Senior, Lewis Morris, Junior, James Alexander, and Peter Zenger. The honors of combat obviously went to “Zenger’s paper.” It was not always fair, by a long shot—nor has any newspaper ever been when fighting a war with a rival. But Cosby and Harison and the Court party _in toto_ were too vulnerable for all the _Journal_’s broadsides to go astray. The Governor was hit over and over again. So was his editor. So were his other cronies. They fought back in the _Gazette_, but they were always on the defensive, always incapable of getting a real attack going. Finally Cosby, boiling with rage, determined on something more practical than a war of words. IX. Zenger Goes to Jail The Governor paused long enough to see what could be done through the usual legal channels, with Chief Justice Delancey given the job of extracting a grand jury indictment for libel. That this attempt failed twice is indicative of the administration’s unpopularity. The jurors manifestly had determined from the start that they would do nothing, and though they were in no more doubt than Delancey about the identity of the principal men who wrote for the _Journal_, they used the “anonymity” of the affair as an excuse to avoid indicting anybody.