The Media Column: The mysterious tale of the editor, the naughty nanny and the chauffeur

The poor foot soldiers at the front line were, as is the Fleet Street tradition, the last to know that Charles Moore was going. Indeed, the reporters and sub-editors at The Daily Telegraph (and the rest of us) might still be unaware of the imminent arrival of Martin Newland as editor, had it not been for the intervention, last Tuesday night, of the Home Secretary, who found himself at the Labour Party conference in Bournemouth in possession of a piece of gossip he regarded as too hot to keep to himself.

It was The Times that broke the story, reporting in its first edition on Wednesday morning that Moore was "believed to be stepping down" and Newland was on the way in. My understanding is that the scoop was the result of David Blunkett's indiscretion. He had heard about the Telegraph's game of musical chairs from a source at the paper, and, unable to remain silent, passed on his tip to Tom Baldwin, associate editor of The Times, over dinner.

If the Telegraph staff were taken aback, it was by the timing rather than by the substance of the announcement. The general consensus of the people I have spoken to is that they were not expecting Moore to be around for very much longer. "But I was gobsmacked when I heard Charles was actually going - there have been so many false alarms," says one long-serving staffer.

Unusually for the days after the announcement of a new editor, the mood in the building is calm. Newland is not expected to slash and burn on his arrival. "There is no feeling of great terror, but neither is it: 'Thank God Charles is gone,'" says one writer. The view of some is that Moore, who has never been a news reporter, has not placed enough emphasis on chasing stories, preferring the "high-table" school of editing, concentrating his attentions on the paper's comment pages. "In a funny way, Charles is quite shy; he doesn't mix easily in the newsroom," I am told.

Newland, a former home-news editor at the Telegraph, is quite different in that respect, and he perhaps has the news operation in mind when he says: "Drop me into a situation, and the chances are you'll have a more energised and revitalised operation." He also says: "I am a great fan of human-interest stories - stories that grab you by the heart, not by your prejudices."

A Telegraph source says: "Charles is not terribly interested in news. Apart from stories about his great obsessions - hunting, Northern Ireland, religion - he is not that bothered. A lot of people think Martin will put a bit of oomph in the paper, which might be a good thing."

Those who remember Newland seem to like him; comparisons of his style to that of Paul Dacre, the fearsomely aggressive Daily Mail editor, are laughable.

Newland rejoins the Telegraph after five years as the founding deputy editor of the National Post in Toronto (he left when the Telegraph's owner, Lord Black, sold the paper). An acquaintance in Canada says he kept a close eye on what was going on at home. "He was a frequent ranter about how the Telegraph was not a meritocracy. Under Charles, he felt it was who you knew that decided whether you got promotion."

Though Newland and Moore's relationship was civil during the former's news-desk stretch, it was made clear that Moore did not see a space for his news editor higher up the hierarchy. Moore is not known for his morale-boosting skills when delivering such news. Colleagues say that Newland's decision to go to Canada in the first place followed a chat in the back of Moore's chauffeur-driven car as the editor made his way to lunch one day. After letting it be known that Newland ought to be very happy in his news-desk role, Moore is said to have asked his driver to pull over and kicked Newland out of the car, leaving him to make his own way back to the office by Tube. "I don't think Martin was very fond of Charles after that," says an insider, with a grin.

Perhaps the greatest difference between the two men is illustrated by the most amusing tale emanating from the Telegraph's 12th-floor Canary Wharf office. Staff there recall an article written a few years ago by a young man - anonymously - about his merry experience as a young teenager losing his virginity to his nanny. They claim Newland was the author.

Alas, today there is no sign of the story on the newspaper's database. It would be wholly speculative to suggest that someone has asked for it to be removed to spare the blushes of the author.

But I feel certain Newland will agree with me when I say that such a piece sounds a fine example of a story that grabs you by the heart and not by your prejudices.

v.graff@independent.co.uk