Crusaders in Chains . by Robin Esser . (Palatino £9.99) Journalists tend to be a fund of good stories and Robin Esser, who has worked in national newspapers for 60 years, is no exception. What shines through this memoir is that journalism is a serious business, but it is also fun. His best stories are from his days as editor of the William Hickey gossip column in the Daily Express. Robin Esser (pictured) has worked in newspapers for 60 years . Once, he answered the phone and an aristocratic voice said: ‘Marlborough here. That awful chap Bedford has been round Blenheim writing “Woburn is better” on our brochures and giving them to our visitors. That’s the sort of thing you like to print in your newspaper, isn’t it?’ He put the phone down without further conversation. Fearing a hoax, Esser rang Blenheim Palace, home to the Duke of Marlborough, where the butler said, haughtily, that the Duke never spoke to the Press and was in his bath, so couldn’t be disturbed. Esser pointed out that the Duke would be cross — very cross — with the butler if he was not asked to confirm his call. A chastened butler later called back to confirm that the Duke himself had, indeed, called Esser. Esser rang Woburn, where the Duke of Bedford confirmed the story. Next, he sent a motorcyclist to Blenheim to pick up a brochure and then ride over to Woburn to get it signed and brought back to Fleet Street. It was the lead story in William Hickey next day. At that time, the Daily Express was owned by Lord Beaverbrook. He rang Esser to say how much he enjoyed the tale. Often, however, his calls about the subject of a story would be more ominous. ‘Very good story in your column this morning, Mr Esser,’ he would say. ‘I hope it is true.’ ‘I believe so, Lord Beaverbrook.’ ‘Good, I’m lunching with him today,’ he would bark. Esser worked in Fleet Street during the glory days, when reporters kept four pennies in their pockets for the telephone box, a knife to puncture the tyres of rival reporters’ cars, and enjoyed liquid lunches on expenses. Esser describes a lunch with an Express editor, during which they drank champagne, a goblet of dry sherry, a bottle of Chablis, two bottles of claret, a couple of Cognacs and, finally, several glasses of port. The editor went back to work. Esser went to bed. The editor died young. But more good stories were elicited over a boozy lunch than can ever come from a tuna sandwich at the desk. And they were also the days when Esser, as editor of William Hickey, could ring Aristotle Onassis on his yacht at Monte Carlo and be invited over to meet Maria Callas. Or plot with John Paul Getty, then the world’s richest private citizen, to disentangle himself from his girlfriend, Marie, who had moved into his Sutton Place home and was angling for marriage. Esser suggested an interview in which oil billionaire Getty made it plain that he was never going to remarry, with the headline ‘I’m married to an oil rag’, i.e. my oil business comes before women. Shortly afterwards, Getty and Marie were dining with the paper’s proprietor, Lord Beaverbrook. Marie complained about Esser and said the story he’d written wasn’t true. Beaverbrook turned to Getty — who said that, on the contrary, it was the only article ever written about him that was 100 per cent true. Marie packed her bags and left. A grateful Getty gave Esser the freedom of Sutton Place. The peak of Esser’s 60-year career came when he was editor of the Sunday Express, which then sold two million copies a week. Esser is now an elder statesman of the national Press and works for the Daily Mail, where he is a leader of the fight against attempts by the state to extend its control over the media and to put newspapers in chains. He is particularly critical of the recommendations in the Leveson Report that threaten the right to protect journalists’ sources, and which mean information acquired confidentially can be seized by the police. He points out that legislation designed to have a chilling effect on investigative journalism already exists — laws on contempt of court, data protection, bribery, harassment and terrorism, among others. There is also the arrival by the back door of a privacy law. The British Press is now regulated and self-regulated to such an extent, he says, that it is only half-free. The ‘outrageous’ recommendation that whistleblowers should report misgivings only to the organisation that is responsible for the abuses — never to the media — guarantees that fewer scandals will be exposed. At least one politician — the Tory veteran Kenneth Clarke — gets Esser’s blessing, though. The Information Commissioner, Chris Graham, had been campaigning for prison sentences for those who breached the Data Protection Act; newspapers worried almost any inquiry by a journalist risked being classified as a breach. Clarke and Esser were sitting together at a conference when Graham approached them and made his pitch for prison punishment. ‘If you think I am going to stuff my jails full of people who break your Act, you have another think coming,’ Ken Clarke roared. Of course newspapers must continue to entertain, Esser concludes, but they must also be a thorn in the sides of those in power, wrongdoers and those who abuse the young and old.
Journalists are known for being a fund of good stories . Robin Esser has worked in newspapers for 60 years and is no exception . In his new book he reveals the inner workings of Fleet Street as it was .