THE MYSTERIOUS MR. "OBSERVER"
Observation tells me that you have a little reddish mold adhering to
your instep. . . . So much is observation. The rest is deduction.
--_Sherlock Holmes_.
_Sign of Four (Doyle)_.
In Prehistoric Days, when one man hied himself from his cave to impress
his ideas upon another the persuasion used took the form of a wallop on
the head with a stone axe. It was the age of Individual Opinion. But
as Man hewed his way upward along Time's tangled trails personal
opinions began to jog along together in groups, creating Force. With
the growth of populations and the invention of printing this power was
called Public Opinion and experience soon taught the folly of ignoring
it.
In the course of human aspiration Somebody who had a Bright Mind got
the notion that in order to get his own way without fighting the crowd
all he had to do was to educate the "Great Common Pee-pul" to his way
of thinking and by sowing enough seed in public places up would come
whatever kind of crop he wanted. Thus, by making Public Opinion
himself he would avoid the hazard of opposing it. The name of this
Sagacious Pioneer of Special Privilege who manufactured the first
carload of Public Opinion is lost to posterity; all that is known about
him is that he was a close student of the Art of concealing Artifice by
Artlessness and therefore wore gum rubbers on his feet and carried
around a lot of Presents to give away.
It is quite possible to direct the thought of Tom-Dick-and-Harry. A
skillful orator can swing a crowd from laughter to anger and back
again. The politician who prepares a speech for a set occasion builds
his periods for applause with every confidence. But it was to the
public prints that they who sought the manufacture of Public Opinion
were in the habit of turning.
There has always been something very convincing about "cold print."
The little boy believes that the cow really did jump over the moon; for
isn't it right there in the nursery book with a picture of her doing
it? And despite the disillusionments of an accelerated age many
readers still cherish an old-time faith in their favorite newspaper--a
faith which is a relic of the days when the freedom of the press was a
new and sacred heritage and the public bought the paper to learn what
Joseph Howe, George Brown, Franklin, Greeley or Dana thought about
things. This period gave place gradually to the great modern
newspaper, the product in some cases of a publishing company so
"limited" that it thought mostly in terms of dollars and cents and
political preferments.
When the cub reporter rushed in to his city editor with eyes sparkling
he cried out enthusiastically:
"Gee, I've got a peach of a story! Old John Smith's daughter's eloped
with the chauffeur. She's a movie fan and----"
But it did not get into the paper for the very good reason that "Old
John" was the proprietor of the big departmental store which took a
full-page advertisement in every issue the year around. The editor
would have used it soon enough, but--the business office--!
Then there was the theatrical press-agent, a regular caller with his
advance notices and free electros of coming attractions, his press
passes.
"Give us a chance, old man," he pleaded, perhaps laying down a good
cigar. "Say, that was a rotten roast you handed us last week."
"Yes, and it was a rotten show!" the editor would retort. "I saw it
myself."
The telephone rings, maybe--the business office again.
"The Blank Theatre have doubled their space with us, Charlie. Go easy
on 'em for awhile, will you?"
The floor around the editor's desk was scuffed by the timid boots of
the man who wanted his name kept out of the paper and the sure tread of
the corporation representative who wanted his company's name mentioned
on every possible occasion. Business interests, railway corporations,
financial institutions--many of these had a regular department for the
purpose of supplying "news" to the press. Some American railroads
finally took to owning a string of papers outright, directly or
indirectly, and one big Trust went so far as to control a telegraphic
news service.
In fact, to such a pass did things come in the United States that the
exploitation of the press became a menace to public interest and a law
was passed, requiring every publication to register the name of its
proprietor; in the case of corporate ownerships the names of the
shareholders had to be filed and the actual owners of stock held in
trust had to be named also. This information had to be printed in
every issue and the penalties for suppression or falsification were
drastic.
No such law was passed in Canada, although the reflection of the
situation in the United States cast high lights and shadows across the
northern boundary. Partizan politics were rife in Canada and too often
have party "organs" and "subsidies" dampered down the fires of
independence in the past. A few journals, however, even in the days
before the great changes of the War, placed a jealous guard upon their
absolute freedom from trammelling influences and to-day they reap the
reward of public confidence.
While not a newspaper, the _Grain Growers' Guide_ was a highly
specialized journal for the Western farmer, aiming frankly at educating
him to be the owner of his land, his produce, his self-respect and his
franchise; to make him self-thinking and self-reliant and to defend him
from unjust slurs.
The editorial responsibility of carrying out such a programme in the
face of existing conditions required a well chosen staff. In Roderick
McKenzie, then Secretary of the Manitoba Grain Growers' Association,
the farmers had an editor upon whose viewpoint they could depend; for
he was one of themselves. But lacking practical experience in
newspaper work, it was necessary to secure an Associate Editor who
would figure largely in the practical management of the publication.
McKenzie was finding that his duties as Secretary of the Association
were becoming too heavy for him to attempt editorial services as well;
so that not long after the appointment of an Associate Editor he
decided to devote his whole time to his official duties.
In its selection of a young man to take hold the _Guide_ was fortunate.
George Fisher Chipman was not only a very practical newspaper man to
meet the immediate needs of the young journal, but he was capable of
expanding rapidly with his opportunities. Well versed in the economic
problems of the day, he was known already in many magazine offices as a
reliable contributor upon current topics. He was well poised and, as
legislative reporter for the _Manitoba Free Press_, Chipman had made
something of a reputation for himself on both sides of the political
fence as a man who endeavored to be fair and who upheld at all times
the traditional honor of the press.
By training and inclination Chipman was in complete sympathy with the
Farmers' Movement in Western Canada. Away east, in the Valley of
Evangeline, near Grand Pré, Nova Scotia, he was brought up on a farm,
learning the farmers' viewpoint as afterwards he came to know that of
the big men in the cities. He believed in co-operation, his father
having been a leader in every farmers' organization in Nova Scotia for
more than twenty years.
It was not long before the young editor's influence made itself
manifest in the official paper of the Western farmers. He saw many
ways of improving it and organizing it for the widest possible service
in its field. Editorially he believed in calling a spade a spade and,
being free from political restrictions, Chipman did not hesitate to
"get after" politicians of all stripes whenever their actions seemed to
provide fit subject for criticism.
By the time the Commission Rule difficulty arose the _Guide_ had
increased its weekly circulation by many thousands. The new editor
seized the opportunity for "active service" and waged an effective
campaign. The Grain Exchange finally restored the One-Cent Commission
Rule and never since has it been dropped.
Meanwhile, however, hostilities broke out anew in an unexpected
direction. They took the form of "letters" to the press and they began
to appear in five papers which were published in Winnipeg--two
newspapers and three farm journals. Concealing his identity under the
_nom-de-plume_, "Observer," the writer attacked the Grain Growers'
Grain Company and the men at the head of it. Declaring himself to be a
farmer, Mr. "Observer" endeavored to discredit the farmers' trading
organization by casting suspicion upon its motives and methods of
business. As letter followed letter it became evident that the object
in view was to stir up discontent among the farmers with the way their
own agency was being conducted.
After issuing a single, dignified and convincing refutation of these
attacks, the Company ignored the anonymous enemy. But the gauntlet was
picked up by the _Grain Growers' Guide_. It lay right at the editor's
feet. Chipman recognized a direct challenge and did not propose to
drop the matter with a denial in the columns of his paper--even with a
dozen denials. His old reportorial instinct was aroused. Who was this
mysterious "Observer"? Why was he going to so much trouble as to
launch a systematic campaign? One thing was certain--he was NOT a
farmer!
All good newspaper reporters have two qualifications well developed;
they are able to recognize news values--having "a nose for news," it is
called--and they are able to run down a "story" with the instinct of a
detective. G. P. Chipman had been a good reporter--a good police
reporter particularly. He had the detective's instinct and it did not
take him long to recognize that he was facing a situation which could
be uncovered only by detective work.
In the first place, he reasoned, the letters were too cleverly
written--so cleverly, in fact, that they could be the product of a
professional writer only, most likely a Winnipeg man. This narrowed
the search at once. By process of elimination the list of possible
"Observers" was soon reduced to a few names. It was an easy matter to
verify the suspicion that the "letters" were paid for at advertising
rates and the question uppermost became: "Who are the greatest
beneficiaries of these attacks?"
"The elevator interests, of course!" was Chipman's answer to his own
question. He began to make progress in his investigations and before
long he became very much interested in an office which happened to be
located in the Merchant's Bank Building, Winnipeg. Here a certain
bright newspaper man with some farming experience had taken to business
as a "Financial Agent"--telephone, stenographer and all the rest of the
equipment.
So sure was Chipman that he was on the right track in following this
clue that finally he shut the door of his private office and wrote up
the whole story of the "deal" which he expected to have been made
between certain elevator men and this clever editorial writer who knew
so much about money that he had opened up a Financial Agency. With the
whole "exposure" ready for publication and the photograph of the
"suspect" handy in a drawer of the desk, Chipman asked the "Financial
Agent" to call at the _Guide_ office.
"Thought you might like to look over that copy before we use it,"
explained the editor casually when his visitor's pipe was going well.
He handed the write-up across his desk. "I want to be fair and there
might be something----"
There decidedly was!--a number of things, in fact! Not the least of
them was the utter surprise of the pseudo Financial Agent. He did not
attempt to deny the truth of the statements made for publication.
According to the story which he told the editor of the _Guide_, it had
been the original intention to have these "letters to the press" signed
by leading elevator men themselves; but when it was decided to hire an
expert press agent to mould public opinion in such a way as to offset
the "onesidedness" of the farmers' movement, none of the elevator men
cared to assume the publicity. The name, "Observer," would do just as
well. A committee was organized to direct and supervise the work of
the press agent and the chairman of this committee conducted the
negotiations with the newspaper man who was to undertake the
preparation of the "letters" and other material.
By the terms of his contract the press agent was to be paid in equal
monthly instalments at the rate of $4,000 per year, with a contract for
two years. For this he was to write letters which would turn public
opinion against this Grain Growers' Grain Company, which was getting so
much of the farmers' grain, and minimize the growth of sentiment in
favor of government ownership of internal and terminal elevators.
These communications he was to have published in the various papers of
Winnipeg and the West. Such was the story.
The better to conceal the wires beneath this publicity campaign and the
identity of the writer, Mr. "Observer" opened his office as a Financial
Agency and became a subscriber to the _Grain Growers' Guide_--one
paper, of course, which could not be approached for the purpose in
view. It was necessary, nevertheless, to clip and file the _Guide_
very carefully for reference; hence the subscription.
The space used by the "correspondence" was paid for at regular
advertising rates. The advertising bill each week amounted to about
$150. But one factor in the success of the plan had been
overlooked--the influence of the _Guide_. No sooner had the official
paper of the Grain Growers pointed out the situation to its readers and
suggested that papers which accepted material antagonistic to the
farmers' cause were no friends of the farmers--no sooner was this
pointed out than letters began to arrive in batches at the offices of
all the papers which were publishing the "Observer" attacks. Most of
these letters cancelled subscriptions and so fast did they begin to
come that one after another the papers refused to publish any more
"Observations," paid for or not.
For unknown reasons it was decided to call off the attempt to create
public opinion against government ownership of elevators and with the
letters aimed at the farmers' trading activities being refused
publication, the employers of "Observer" had no further work for him to
do.
As they were still paying his interesting salary each month, they
offered him $1,500 to tear up his contract, he said. But with more
than a year and a half still to run--over $6,000 coming to him--Mr.
"Observer" had a certain affection for that contract. Fifteen hundred
dollars? Pooh, pooh! He would settle for--well, say So-Much.
"You're talking through your hat!" scoffed his employers in effect.
"It's a six-thousand-dollar hat!" smiled "Observer" pleasantly.
"Well, we won't pay any such lump sum as you say," virtually declared
his employers, not so pleasantly.
"Just as you wish, gentlemen. I'll wait, then, and draw my
salary--$333.33 1/3 every month, according to contract. I know you
don't want me to sue for it; because we'd have to air the whole thing
in the courts and there would be a lot of publicity. So we'll just let
her toddle along and no hard feelings."
He got his money.
The alleged attempt of these elevator men, whether with or without the
sanction of their associates, to make public opinion by means of the
"Observer" letters began in the fall of 1909. It lasted but a few
weeks.