Quest Biographies Bundle — Books 11–15. Gary Evans
the Labor Gazette – produced, I may add, with the worthy Mr. Henry Albert Harper, my friend, colleague, and roommate. I am deputy minister of labour, the youngest deputy minister in the history of Canada. I have seen the groundwork I laid built into the Fair Wages Resolution Act, striking down the use of sweat shop labour for government contracts. I am now truly carrying on the work of my grandfather, able to influence those who might do something for the working classes!”
“Hear, hear!” Harper encouraged, his brown eyes bright with glee.
“Why,” King said pridefully, “if my spirit and my resolve stay strong, I may even enter public life. I am but twenty-six. One day,” he paused, looking at the grand vista before him, “should it be the will of the God of Bethel, I may be premier of this country.”
Harper mumbled his approval through a mouthful of grapes.
King grabbed up a bunch of grapes and began strutting with his chest puffed out like a peacock, “We are young gods, you and I. By day I earn an income larger than many at Harvard, enough to provide for my needs and amply assist my family. By night, I am wined and dined in the best homes in the company of some of the fairest young maidens in our nation’s capital. Regrets? None have I!”
Harper chuckled at his friend’s performance. Rex unpuffed himself and questioned, “How about you, Harper? Any regrets?”
“None. The work I am helping you do is important – much different from covering Ottawa stories for the Montreal Gazette. Still, there are one or two jeunes filles in the office I miss!” he lamented.
“Good heavens man, how many girls can you handle? Last night you were out with Miss Campbell, tomorrow we’re lunching with the Sherwood sisters, and I know you’ve been corresponding with my sister Jennie!”
Harper smiled, and rolled over to survey the wonders of the sky – so blue, so crisp, so perfect, with only one or two slightly grey clouds chuffing into view – nothing to ruin their day.
“We’re fortunate Reverend Herridge recommended this place,” he sighed happily.
“Yes. You know, Bert,” King mused, “I wouldn’t mind having a little place out here. Wouldn’t it be lovely, summering with the Herridges and having Mother and Father come for holidays?”
“Is it a holiday with your mother or father you’re dreaming of, or one nearer the lovely Mrs. Herridge?”
King pelted a grape at him.
King and Harper worked in the new Department of Labour under the auspices of the postmaster general. The federal government was just beginning to transform itself into a buzzing beehive of expanded services, and the young civil servants were part of a growing swarm of workers. As editor of the Labor Gazette King was so busy that his brother Max joked that he only got up from his desk to visit the backhouse.
Postmaster General Mulock had hired the young man for more than his editorial skills. As Canada adjusted itself to the thought of trade unions, the government needed someone knowledgeable in the field of labour to address a growing number of strikes. As the affable deputy minister returned from more and more missions of strike investigation, the postmaster general came to appreciate the young man’s gift of conciliation. Letters praising his tact came into the office from city officials, union representatives, and factory owners. King began serving on Royal Commissions looking into labour disputes from Quebec to British Columbia.
Union Station, Toronto
December, 1901
“Cold!” King couldn’t help remarking to the conductor when the train door opened and an icy blast of air hit him. “It’s still tropical in B.C. even though it’s December,” he rued. He stepped off the train with a confident air, despite the fact that his business at Rossland had been unsuccessful. He’d stop in Toronto to visit his family for a few days. Then he would go back to Ottawa to give a full report about how the stubborn employers and aggressive union leaders had blocked progress in resolving the miners’ strike. Usually King was more successful.
He passed a newspaper boy shouting the latest headline: “Ottawa in shock! Two skaters die while many look on!” King handed the lad a coin and took one of the papers.
He scanned the story.
Two drown in Ottawa River, as hero selflessly attempts to save girl. Bessie Blair of Ottawa was a member of a skating party that had ventured too near thin ice. The ice cracked beneath her, and the freezing waters swirled around her. While other skaters looked on, one young man, thoughtless of the risk to himself, rushed to her aid. Jumping in after her he cried, “What else can I do?” Those were the last words of Henry Albert Harper of Ottawa.
Henry Albert Harper of Ottawa, King read again. The fist of terror beat his brain, and another pummelled him in the stomach. “Bert!” he gasped aloud.
Despite the support of his family, it seemed impossible to get over the death of Bert. When he returned to Ottawa, the minister’s friendly wife, Mrs. Herridge, was one of the first to provide solace. Many people of Ottawa shared King’s shock at the tragedy. The city erected a bronze statue of Sir Galahad near the Parliament Buildings in memory of Harper. King wrote a book about his friend and called it The Secret of Heroism. But nothing seemed to take away the pain, and nothing filled the void of the horrible loss. King thought he might never enjoy such a deep friendship again.
Bert had given everything to try and save the life of one person. King would dedicate his life to trying to improve the lives of many, to achieve the noble goal set by his grandfather and pursued by his dear friend, both now gone. He threw himself in to his duties.
He carried on the work that he and Harper had begun with the Labor Gazette in addition to his duties of deputy minister. Again and again he criss-crossed the county, seeking settlement to strikes through investigation. Accumulating information enabled King to get both sides talking. Then he emphasized the points the different parties had in common. “Investigation is letting in the light,” King felt. Prime Minister Laurier noted the work of this rising civil servant and had occasion to test Kings skills.
A strike in the Alberta coal mines begun in March 1906 still continued in the winter of 1907. People were burning twisted straw or anything they could get their hands on to keep from freezing. “Do you think you can do something?” Prime Minister Laurier asked the young civil servant. “Yes I can,” King answered firmly. After an inquiry, he discovered that the issues of union recognition, wage increases, and reduced hours had been overlooked. King managed to smooth things out.
Of more importance to the country was the fact these experiences provided insights that helped him to draft the Industrial Disputes Investigation Act. King cobbled bits of information together about acts in other countries and brought in some of the things he had used to draft the Railway Labour Disputes Act. The Industrial Disputes Act of 1907 called for postponement of a strike or lockout in mines or public utilities until an investigation at public expense could be arranged. King was sure the period of delay provided by the investigation would also help irate tempers cool off. Canada was one of the first countries to enact this sort of legislation.
Prime Minister Laurier was aware that the act had been created largely by a civil servant – one who was attracting more and more attention. King had done well on the national scene, but how was he at playing ball on an international court?
As deputy minister of labour, King had been involved with immigration issues. Many Canadian labourers were concerned about the increasing number of immigrants from India, Japan, and China who would work for next to nothing and even as strikebreakers. On the West Coast, the situation turned ugly in 1907 when rioters expressed their outrage in violence. As part of a Royal Committee, King explored the problems that had led up to the riot and the resulting property losses to the Japanese and Chinese