Watson’s
Jeffersonian Magazine.

Foreword.

BBefore me lies a Thing, bearing on its cover the legend,

The familiar emblem, the Liberty Bell, is in the center of the space, and below is the address of

Opening this Thing and scanning the Table of Contents, I note the absence of the name of Mr. Watson, former Editor-in-Chief.

He’s out.

Nor do I see the name of the former Managing Editor, Mr. Duffy.

He’s out, also.

C. Q. DeFrance is still on deck, however, and Ted Flaacke is still Advertising Manager—with no advertisements to manage.

Then comes a statement of the Contents of the November number. First the old familiar word, “Editorials,” meets my eyes. But the name of the writer is not given.

It used to be Mr. Watson. Who is it now?

The Table of Contents does not state.

The Editor is a Man of Mystery. Was he ashamed of his Editorials, or were the Editorials ashamed of him? Deponent sayeth not—because he doesn’t know.

Everybody else’s name is given, save that of the only man whose name there was any special reason for giving—to wit, The Editor.

Is THIS the way they send you into the world, MY CHILD? Offspring of my hand, my heart and my soul—Benjamin of my old age! Is THIS the orphanage upon which you have fallen?

Glancing down the list of writers who have contributed to this November number, I am startled to find the name of Thos. E. Watson.

Who is he, anyhow? Isn’t he the man whom Colonel Mann and DeFrance have been slandering through the newspapers? Why put his name into this pot?

Curious to see what Mr. Watson may have written for the Thing, I follow the page reference (103) and find the familiar headline “Educational Department.” This department was my own creation, primarily intended for the instruction of the younger members of the family. Under the headline of “Educational Department,” the Thing puts a list of books.

Some boy wrote to me last winter asking me to name one hundred books which would be useful to the general reader. I made out the list, last February, and mailed it to New York.

In their quandary of dismissing Watson, the man, and holding on to Watson, the Reputation, they fished that list of books out of the waste-basket and published it. They signed my name to it.

That’s the only item in the Thing’s “Educational Department.”

Pitiful!

At the very time when they are slandering me in the newspapers, and denying to me any share in the Magazine which my unpaid labor built up, Mann and DeFrance have the cynical indecency to continue to use my name as a writer for their magazine.

Turning to “Letters From the People,” a Department which owes its creation to me, I find letters praising “Watson’s Magazine.”

The dates are not given. These would have disclosed the fact that the letters were written before the severance of my connection with the Magazine. The writers were my friends, and by their letters they had meant to encourage me in my work.

The cover of the Magazine bears the name

“Watson’s Magazine Company.”

The two individuals who compose this “Company” are Col. W. D. Mann and C. Q. DeFrance—a very precious “Company.”

Of my Magazine, Mann took half, and DeFrance took half.

By what right?

Concede that Col. Mann was entitled to grab half of the Magazine because of the money which he had lost through the stupid mismanagement of the Business Department—where did DeFrance get his right to the other half? He has never done a lick of work for the Magazine that wasn’t paid for at full price.

Where, then, was HIS right to seize, under legal form, one half of the Magazine?

I called him from a very modest position in Nebraska, and put him in the office as my personal and political representative. Starting him at $40 per week, I soon advanced him to $60 per week—a higher salary than he had ever been paid, by far. I trusted him, implicitly. To the last moment, I relied upon him, absolutely.

And he betrayed me. Often have I, like other men, experienced ingratitude; sometimes perfidy—but never have I been stung by such venomous and unexpected treachery as that of DeFrance.

Let it pass.

***

There is another deceptive inscription upon the cover of the November number of the spurious “Watson’s Magazine.” It is the address,

121 West 42 Street.

That is NOT the true address which should be used now. Colonel Mann has taken the spurious “Watson’s” into the quarters of his Town Topics and Smart Set. You have perhaps heard of Town Topics. Also of Smart Set. And a mighty smart set it is, too.

Hereafter, you might as well address all communications intended for the spurious “Watson’s” in care of Col. Mann’s Town Topics.

Or, if you prefer, in care of Col. Mann’s Smart Set.

Last March the blustering old scamp who rolls around beneath the name of Colonel W. D. Mann, wanted to remove the genuine “Watson’s Magazine” from 42nd Street over to the Smart Set den.

I declined to let him do it. At that time, DeFrance was still true to me, and he took the same view of the matter. So anxious was he not to get mired up in Town Topics mud that he telegraphed me to stand out against Col. Mann and not allow him to make the removal.

Tray, the faithful, wanted to keep out of bad company. Tray, the unfaithful, has now, of his own free will, got into the bad company which he then avoided.

Watch out, Tray.

***

The first article in the November number of the spurious “Watson’s” is entitled “Explanatory.” Most of it had already appeared in Colonel Mann’s Town Topics. The rest of it bears the earmark of DeFrance.

“Explanatory” was prepared by the present Editors of the New York “Watson’s Magazine”—Col. Mann and DeFrance. Well aware of the fact that the Public would not patronize a Reform magazine edited by such a creature as himself, Col. Mann has rushed into the newspapers with a declaration that he never saw or heard of “Explanatory” until after its appearance in the November “Watson’s.”

What a shameless falsehood!

Col. Mann and DeFrance fixed up that “Explanatory” mess, and Mr. Gordon Nye, the artist, was commissioned to take the “Proofs” to Col. Mann for correction.

Mr. Nye, who is now living with me, assures me that he carried these “Proofs” to Col. Mann’s house on 72nd Street, that Col. Mann read and corrected the “Proofs,” and that he made certain alterations in the article.

Then Mr. Nye took the Proofs of “Explanatory” back to DeFrance, and delivered to that person the orders of the real Editor-in-Chief of the New York “Watson’s Magazine.”

For the real Editor-in-Chief of the bogus “Watson’s Magazine” is Col. Mann, Editor of Town Topics and Smart Set.

Nice Editor-in-Chief for a reform magazine, isn’t he?

***

I am going to give, once for all, a simple statement of the whole transaction, and then I will try to forget it, in higher, nobler work. Nothing is a more thankless task than the narration of the events leading to such a climax as this.

***

After the national election of 1904, I went to New York to hold a conference with our National Chairman, Mr. Ferriss, and with other men who had been prominently identified with our side of the campaign. The conference was held at the office of Mr. Palliser who had been acting manager of the campaign in New York. I also wished to confer with Mr. Brisbane, who had long been urging me to join him in editing the Hearst papers. He had repeatedly written and telegraphed. A definite offer of $10,000 to edit Mr. Hearst’s morning paper, the American, had been made. If I had been ready to accept a thousand dollars per month, there is no doubt that it would have been paid. But while I was powerfully inclined to cooperate with Brisbane, I did not like to be swallowed up in Hearst. Besides, to edit a daily paper necessitated my residence in New York, whereas my interests, as well as local attachments, were too great to make the removal one to which I could readily gain my own consent.

While in this uncertain state of mind, Colonel Mann burst in upon me, at my hotel, in all the glory and pomposity of white whiskers, white hair, wine-colored face, spotted waistcoat, gold-headed cane, baywindow belly, eyes that looked like hard boiled eggs, and a voice thick with high-living and constant use.

As I may have remarked before, he looked just like a picture taken out of a child’s colored picture book.

While he talked to me, I sat there trying to make up my mind as to which he resembled most, an idealized portrayal of Santa Claus, or of John Bull, or of John Barlycorn. I finally decided that he would do for a composite photograph of all three.

This funny looking old chap I had never heard of before. His Town Topics I had never seen—didn’t know of its existence.

He introduced the purpose of his visit by saying that he had heard of Mr. Hearst’s proposition to me. If I had committed myself to Mr. Hearst, he had no more to say; otherwise he had a proposition to submit. Told that I was free, he outlined his project.

He would finance a great national magazine, if I would edit the same.

Casually and lightly, he mentioned $100,000 as the amount he would risk on the venture.

With that amount he had made Smart Set “go,” and he did not doubt that a like amount would make another magazine “go.”

Everything must be in my name—corporation, magazine, signboard, tail-piece and all. Not being particularly ashamed of my name, I had no objection to this.

Inasmuch as I belonged to a political party which had just demonstrated to its own satisfaction that it was the most unpopular political conglomeration on the face of the earth, I imagined that such a fine looking old personage as Col. Mann—calling himself a Democrat—was afraid he would deface his own reputation by associating with a political outcast, like me, and that, therefore, while willing to pocket all the money the magazine might earn, he didn’t want his name to appear.

Considerate old buck, he wouldn’t hurt my feelings by using the plebeian word “salary.” The word “compensation” was likewise too vulgar to be applied to my monthly and yearly stipend. With a rich roll in his deep bass voice, he mentioned the “honorarium” which I was to receive for my work. My “honorarium” was to be $500 per month. Besides, my traveling expenses to and from New York were to be paid.

He emphasized the fact that, under his proposition, I would not have to live in New York. A monthly visit was contemplated, but never made compulsory, save upon the summons of the Board of Directors.

For several reasons, Col. Mann’s proposition impressed me favorably. First, it preserved my identity. Second, it left me free to say just what I pleased. Third, it did not take me away from my home—to which I am tenderly attached. My ancestors helped to clear the primeval forest off these old red hills of Georgia, and I love them, as I could love no other land under the sun.

For these several reasons, I practically decided, then and there, to accept Col. Mann’s proposition. He saw this—being a shrewd old fellow—and did his utmost to get me to his office, in order that the contract might be drawn up and signed before I left New York.

But I was not quite so much of a greenhorn as all that. I refused to close the deal, then, but asked him to send his proposition, in writing, to me in Georgia.

Returning home, I fell sick. Overwork, mental strain, sleeplessness, worry, etc., stretched me out. Unable to return to New York after Col. Mann had mailed me the proposed contract, I decided to place myself in the hands of a friend.

***

Dr. John H. Girdner, a native of Greenville, Tenn., had been one of my most prominent and active supporters in New York during the campaign of 1904. Previously he had been widely known as the political lieutenant and confidential friend of Mr. Bryan. Previous to that, he was well known as the family physician and political follower of Mr. Cleveland.

Having long been a resident of New York, Dr. Girdner seemed to me the ideal man to represent me in the negotiations with Col. Mann.

The Doctor accepted the trust, and finally sent me the contract for signature. Some alterations in it had been made. One of these, and the most important, was the creation of the office of Associate Editor, at a salary of “not exceeding” $4,000 per year. This office was to be personal to me. That is, I could make and unmake Associate Editors at will, provided Col. Mann did not have to pay them more than $4,000 per year.

In communicating this feature of the contract to me, Dr. Girdner signified his willingness to fill that position. It gave me great pleasure to appoint him. Nothing was ever said by the Doctor or myself concerning the amount that he was to receive, but he assumed, quite correctly, that it would be proper for him to draw the full $4,000, and he began to do so.

Not once did Dr. Girdner intimate to me that a business connection with Col. Mann would disgrace me. How could I suppose that such a connection was undesirable when Dr. Girdner himself was willing to make it? I am sure that the Doctor did not know what all the world now knows.

It cost the Colliers $75,000 and months of hard work, to gather up the evidence which proved what kind of a person Col. Mann is. How could Dr. Girdner know, IN 1904, those facts which it cost Collier $75,000 to prove IN 1905? The Doctor knew no more about it than I did—or he would have warned me to keep out, and would have kept out himself.

When I went to New York in the mid-winter of 1904-5 to organize the Company, Col. Mann opened another leaf in his book.

He presented a paper containing stock subscriptions to his Syndicate, and asked me to “come in.” I was fool enough to sign for $2,500.

Had the old scamp not over-reached himself, he would have got me for $2,500, besides the $9,000 hereinafter mentioned. But he did overreach himself. He had his man, Daniels, to present another paper for me to sign. It was the lease of the house we were to occupy, 121 West 42nd Street. The amount was $1,200.

Then, I smelt the rat. I not only refused to sign the lease, but, acting under a natural revulsion of feeling, I cancelled my subscription to the Syndicate. Had Col. Mann said a single word against my doing so, I would have cancelled the whole contract—for the suspicion had then crept into my mind that he was—what I now know him to be—A GRAND OLD RASCAL.

***

Why, then, did I go on with the Magazine?

Because I was fastened. Because I had publicly pledged my word. Because the contract gave me complete control of the Magazine, therefore Col. Mann could not hurt it. Me he could hurt; me he did hurt, but the Magazine was, is now, and ever shall be, above and beyond his reach. Thank God!

The soul of the Magazine was the breath of life which Jehovah breathed into me; and Col. Mann can no more defile it by his touch than he can defile me.

***

I commenced working industriously for the Magazine in December 1904. Hundreds of letters were mailed from my house every month. Hundreds of subscribers enrolled themselves and paid their money in advance of the publication. I paid my own assistants, paid the postage, worked for nothing. It wasn’t the money that I was after. Col. Mann saw that, and took every advantage of it.

Not a cent of the small sum that was paid me came out of his pocket. I am glad to be able to say so.

But while money-making was not my purpose, I could not contemplate with any satisfaction the prospect of never being able to get anything for my labor. The Magazine was bearing upon me heavily. The contract only asked 3,000 words per month of me. After the first few numbers, my task was never less than about 20,000 words

All this work I did with my own hand. Mr. Duffy, the Managing Editor, had a stenographer. Mr. Flaacke, Advertising Manager, had a stenographer; Mr. DeFrance, Business Manager, had a stenographer. I am not sure about Mr. Hoffman and the office boy, Robert, but I guess they had one too. The Editor-in-Chief was the only member of the staff who had to do his own work.

Finally, the toil became so irksome—especially during the Georgia campaign of 1906, when Everybody and his Uncle and his Aunt were jumping on me—that I begged DeFrance to allow me six dollars per week for a stenographer. He did so for several weeks and then quit. In ceasing to help me to this pitiful extent, he gave me neither excuse nor explanation.

He himself was all the while drawing his $60 per week, for dictating to a fifteen-dollar-per-week stenographer.

***

“Explanatory” alleges that I usurped authority, and began to discharge employes as though the Magazine were my personal property.

“Explanatory” says that, unfortunately, I was allowed to have my way in a great many business matters.

The new Editors, Mann and DeFrance, give no specifications.

I will give some.

Into the very first number of the Magazine, Col. Mann inserted a full page advertisement of some of his nasty “Smart Set” books. When I saw that advertisement, which had been slipped into the magazine without my knowledge, Ted Flaacke, Advertising Manager, was summoned to my room, and told that there wasn’t money enough in New York to buy space in my Magazine for prurient literature of that sort.

I peremptorily demanded that the filthy thing be kept out, and it was kept out. It is due Mr. Flaacke to say, that he, himself, had known nothing of the ad. until the magazine was out.

This was the beginning of Col. Mann’s displeasure. He realized that he could never make a tool of me—as he is now making of DeFrance.

The Titles of some of those books are as follows:

“An Eclipse of Virtue,”

“Margaret’s Misadventure,”

“Naughty Elizabeth,”

“Sweet Sin,”

“The Ashes of Desire,”

“An Unspeakable Siren,” etc., etc.

Now, it may be that these books are not so bad as their names would indicate—I have never read them—but Col. Mann meant by these titles, to cater to the diseased taste for erotic literature. Hence HE SLIPPED THE AD. IN, without notice to me or to Ted Flaacke. That ad., in our very first number, hurt the magazine seriously. I felt that Col. Mann had no right to degrade the Magazine by making it a distributor of vile books, hence my positive instructions to Mr. Flaacke. In justice to this gentleman, I should say that he agreed with me fully.

Again: Col. Mann placed the Business Management in the hands of a young coal-dealer who knew nothing whatever about Circulation Management, nor about Business Management of that kind. He was a most amiable young gentleman and perfectly honest. I liked him personally, very much. But, unfortunately, he was addicted to the use of intoxicating liquors—even during business hours—and frequently attempted to perform the duties when too much inebriated to do so. Dr. Girdner first called my attention to this, and then DeFrance. Our business affairs soon suffered so much from the young man’s infirmity, that both Dr. Girdner and DeFrance suggested that we make a change. I took the matter up with Col. Mann, who had himself began to find fault with the young man, and the result was that he was requested to resign.

DeFrance had wanted the young man’s place, and he got it, with an increase of salary. It was at my instance that DeFrance was thus advanced.

***

Every change made by me was made in the interest of economy, and resulted in benefit.

I wanted to make other changes, for the same reason.

We paid Mr. Flaacke in salary and expense account, about $5,000 per year, and never got advertising enough to pay the bill. I wanted to stop that nonsense, and to put Mr. Flaacke on the commission basis.

I shouldn’t wonder if Col. Mann has, himself, now made that very change.

The Managing Editor was getting $50 per week for doing work which his assistant, Mr. Hoffman, could, as I thought, do as well. I wanted to put the work on Mr. Hoffman, and save the larger salary.

I note with interest that Col. Mann has, himself, made that very change.

Thus THEY, THEMSELVES, VINDICATE ME, unintentionally, from the accusations they make.

Col. Mann approved every change I made while I was in charge, and he now makes the other changes for which I contended.

***

When Edgerton went out, it had been demonstrated that the Magazine was not going to “boom” as Colonel Mann had expected, and that economy would be the law of its life.

Seeing that two offices could be combined, at a saving of $45 per week, I made the change, after full consultation with Col. Mann at Col. Mann’s house.

As to Dr. Girdner, Col. Mann had kicked at that from the beginning.

From what others told me, I know that Col. Mann vigorously objected to Dr. Girdner as Associate Editor.

I know that from time to time Col. Mann would inquire, “Does Watson still want that fellow Girdner?” I myself heard Col. Mann find fault with the Doctor for putting two signed articles in one number of the Magazine.

And I myself heard Col. Mann say, to me and others, in his own office, “I don’t believe Dr. Girdner could ever write a good article.”

When Col. Mann asked me whether Dr. Girdner were INDISPENSABLE TO ME, I frankly and truthfully said that he was not. The Colonel wanted to stop that salary. The Doctor was not willing to let his “honorarium” accumulate on the books. Like a sensible man, he was insisting upon drawing what was due him.

This was hurting Col. Mann. Hurting him very much. Therefore, after first ascertaining that I would remain in office, he put Girdner out, himself. As between an Editor who cashed in his “honorarium,” and one that allowed his to accumulate on the books, who could doubt which the Colonel would prefer?

It was I who insisted that Colonel Mann pay Dr. Girdner a sum which the Doctor naturally claimed as compensation for breach of contract.

Dr. Girdner himself should know best why he quit us, and the Doctor has written me a letter in which he says,

***

“Explanatory” has much to say about my son.

The facts are these:

My son had been under Dr. Girdner’s professional treatment. He soon began to show a marked improvement, and I realized the helpfulness to my boy of giving him something to do. He was naturally eager to work with his father. I, therefore, went to the Business Manager and sought work for my son, just as I would have done for a stranger.

I said, both to Mr. Green and Col. Mann, “I don’t know how he will do, or what he will be worth, but please give him a trial. If he makes good, pay him what the work is worth. If he does not make good, I will not expect you to keep him, and you can charge his salary up to me during the time he will have been here.”

That’s exactly the way it was. My son commenced work, and when I next went to New York all of them told me—and were apparently delighted to tell me—that he had made good.

From Dr. Girdner down, they all spoke affectionately of him, and declared that he was one of the steadiest, quietest employes at the office.

As his strength returned, his usefulness increased and I advanced him to more important and responsible duties than had at first been put upon him.

To encourage my boy, and bring out what was best in him, I did advance him from time to time. Who will blame me for wanting to make a man out of my only son?

It was my most earnest desire to train my son in journalism, so that he could take my place when I should have served out my time and passed away:—to that purpose I still cling with a resolution that nothing can break.

At the time DeFrance and Col. Mann kicked him out, he was doing the “News Record” and “The Say of Other Editors.” He was doing it well, as the Magazine will show for itself.

He was being paid $40 per week. This was $10 per week less than Edgerton had received for the same work.

When I gave my son the place, another position which he had filled acceptably to the Business Manager, at $15 per week, was abolished. Thus, even at the highest salary ever paid my son, he saved the Company $25 per week.

I am accused of having mistreated Mr. Edgerton. The facts are these: he was already working in New York when he applied to me for a job on the Magazine. I personally requested Col. Mann to take him on. After much hesitation and seeming reluctance, Col. Mann consented. When reductions of expenses became necessary, Mr. Edgerton’s weekly salary was reduced to $40. He told me that he would hold the job until he could get another. I did not think he could render us very good service in that state of mind, and I therefore relieved him of duty. He had already made $1,200 out of the job—probably THE EASIEST MONEY THAT HE HAD EVER EARNED.

***

“Explanatory” says that at a meeting of the Board of Directors in November 1905, I agreed to contribute $5,000 to a fund of $25,000, and then broke my word.

The facts are these:

After repeated efforts to get some satisfaction out of Col. Mann, I was drawn to New York in November 1905 by a most positive written promise of his to settle with me if I would come to see him.

I went.

At Col. Mann’s house on 72nd Street, there was a gathering of the leading stockholders and leading employes. As each reported for his own department the employes were excused, and they went away. Mr. Flaacke spoke his piece and departed. Mr. Duffy, ditto. Finally the assemblage dwindled down to just me and the Colonel.

But, before this, Col. Mann had suggested that we raise some money, and asked me IF I DID NOT HAVE SOME FRIENDS THAT I COULD PREVAIL ON TO “COME IN.” The suggestion was put out of business immediately. I was in the trap all right enough, and I DIDN’T INTEND TO BE USED AS A BAIT. Then he asked if I would not continue to work for the Magazine without pay to the amount of $5,000.

I answered, “Yes.”

In that very connection, however, he had stated, again, his intention to pay me the amount already due, and which he had promised to pay if I would come to New York.