Manson Battles Political Foes

While in public he still appeared to have the full support of Premier John Oliver, Manson was becoming a questionable asset in the ranks of the minority Liberal government, whose chances in the next election looked bleak, even without the fallout from the Smith affair. Critics charged that the attorney general merely talked about “British justice,” but didn’t practise it. He had also lost considerable support among his staunch Scottish followers. After all that had transpired in the long legal process, the question still remained, “Who killed Janet Smith?” Some even doubted there was a “who” involved. Despite all the evidence that had been presented, particularly that of the medical men, there were those who believed Smith’s death was accidental or perhaps a suicide, as the first inquest had ruled.

The opposition finally had Manson on a spit in the legislature in Victoria. Their attacks were hot, heavy, and often vicious. For too long the attorney general had lorded it over his opponents in the House; now it was their turn. They attacked his appointee Jackson as a ham-fisted, egotistical, incompetent, amateur dabbler in crime who should never have been appointed to his job and who had disrupted an already floundering investigation. It was perfect fodder for the papers, which happily added their own condemnation, damning him for third-degree brutality and lynch-mob treatment of the Chinese suspect. Even the Province, which earlier touted Wong’s guilt, now joined in the criticism of Manson.

Manson knew his foes were biding their time in the legislature, but he didn’t show any concern on his return to Victoria when he rose in the House to respond to their attacks. His supporters had expected fireworks and a barnburner response from the usually combative Manson, but he disappointed them with a relatively unimpressive defence. He followed the well-worn path of slamming the media and blaming the papers for almost all his troubles, focusing particularly on the machinations of Cowper and the Saturday Tribune.

He attacked Cowper as a diabolical man who had discredited B.C. in the eyes of the world by printing the grossest of slanders in his “slimy sheet.” He went on in the same vein before abruptly sitting down after a much shorter speech than had been expected from the usually long-winded veteran. Then suddenly Manson resumed and became quite emotional. He boomed out, “Let the honourable members attack if they will any other part of my administration, but I beg them to leave justice alone unless, indeed, it be true they are assured that I am unworthy to administer it. If it has come to that, then the sooner I am removed the better. I leave myself to the judgment of you, Mr. Speaker, and of my fellow members. There are big things in the province to engage our attention, great problems, let not lust for power divert us from things that are worthwhile.”

His statement surprised the opposition because it raised the question of his removal from office, a decision that lay with Premier Oliver alone. Manson had been one of the strongmen in a lacklustre cabinet, and the possibility that he might be dumped from the portfolio hadn’t been considered, despite all the evidence of his interference in the Smith affair. Opponents began to wonder and hope there was a major development on the horizon, unknown to them, one that was about to break, discrediting Manson, and a forerunner to his possible downfall. They waited for Jackson’s court appearance with great expectations.

The next day, November 17, the Robinsons and Norton appeared for sentencing at the assizes. Hopeful that the jury’s recommendation for leniency would be observed, Robinson heaved a sigh of relief when he was given a year in jail, with the four months he had already spent there to count as time served. He was lucky, as were all the others. The court treated son Willie like an errant child, sending him home to his mother with an admonition to stay out of trouble. Norton got nine months. In the criminal libel case, Cowper was fined $200 or six months in jail. He still faced the civil action.

While awaiting his next trek to court, the irrepressible Cowper delighted in badgering Manson in the pages of the Saturday Tribune, narrowly skirting the minefield of libel, trying to avoid any further trouble with the law, but still getting in as many digs as possible at the attorney general.

The civil action against Cowper opened November 30, with Mr. Justice Francis Gregory presiding. The Bakers told their story one more time, Mrs. Baker referring with some amusement to the nasty, anonymous letters the couple had received, including one that advised her to take her troubles to a priest. The Bakers repeated they had nothing to do with drug dealing. In the last of his many appearances, Baker once more denied any dealing in illegal drugs but rather in substances “like Epsom salts.”

It was over quickly. Mr. Justice Gregory was obviously keen to get rid of what he termed “unfounded charges” that had dogged some people for months. Charging the jury, Gregory stated, “I do hope this is the last time we will hear of these unfounded charges. People have been dragged in who clearly were not there [at Osler Avenue], but their names have been on the public tongue for months to their detriment.” He was perhaps thinking particularly of his friends Lieutenant-Governor Nichol and his son Jack. The jury took his advice this time, and after only 44 minutes found Cowper guilty. The financial damages and award were to be worked out at a later date.

All that remained in the marathon was the case of Jackson and the four co-conspirators, but it hung over Manson like a black cloud. If the preliminary hearing went to trial, the case would not be heard until the spring of 1926, and the attorney general knew the media would worry the affair for all the intervening months. This could seriously affect the shaky government’s future. In an election, the Smith affair would be used to attack the government on every husting. Because it was unresolved, Manson also worried that some unrevealed detail might emerge, bringing with it devastating damage. If this happened, would Jackson accept the role of sacrificial lamb? It didn’t seem his style.