The Uncrowned King: The Sensational Rise of William Randolph Hearst (46 page)
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Authors: Kenneth Whyte
BOOK: The Uncrowned King: The Sensational Rise of William Randolph Hearst
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Restless and impulsive, Pulitzer was never in one place more than a few months at a time. He shuffled between his various North American homes with side trips to Washington or St. Louis, and crossed to Europe at least once a year. He expected everything to be just so wherever he landed, hence the advance guard of aides who preceded him, inspecting and photographing lodgings, listening for noisy plumbing or barking dogs or anything else that might interrupt his fragile sleep and force him on a moment’s notice to pack up and leave. There was only so much the advance men could do: a stay at Moray Lodge, the estate of British publisher Alfred Harmsworth, was ruined by the squawking of the royal peacocks in nearby Kensington Garden. In Maine, Pulitzer’s aides had gone so far as to ask the harbor authorities to silence a foghorn in murky weather (a request wisely refused).
Whether in transit or at home, Pulitzer worked constantly and, as a result, so did his secretaries, arranging meetings, managing his correspondence and appointments, reading him the newspapers, and running his errands. When he wanted to relax, they took turns reading to him from Thackeray, Trollope, and George Eliot, as well as from histories and biographies. It was not enough for the men to read well; they were also required to condense, on the fly, any discursive or descriptive passages that got between their impatient employer and the next plot development. They accompanied him to concerts and plays, often walking out if the pace was slow or there was a cougher in the audience. They put him on horseback and took him for boat rides. They ate their meals with him and scrambled to keep up with his singular notion of table talk.
Pulitzer did not converse with his secretaries and assistants so much as spar with them. A typical tactic of his was to force an opinion on a particular subject from one of his men and then humiliate the poor fellow with his own superior knowledge and judgment. Alleyne Ireland, one of Pulitzer’s later secretaries, was once asked at lunch what he was reading. He rattled off a few titles. Pulitzer seized on one and asked for a report. Ireland obliged. He had barely got started when his host exploded: “My God! You don’t mean to tell me that anyone is interested in that sort of rubbish. . . . Try something else. Do you remember any plays?”
40
40
Pulitzer’s moodiness kept his entourage in constant suspense. He could be chatting merrily in his high-pitched, clear voice on American politics or Shakespeare and then suddenly turn in fury on a guest who was being noisy with his cutlery; he could sit through an entire meal in wordless anxiety, refusing to be cheered or distracted, nervously stroking his bushy beard. His men watched his face for clues. Normally his skin was a youthful, healthy pink. When he was exercised about something, it flushed a deep red; when he was sleepless or depressed, it would turn gray. His range of expression was enormous. “No face was capable of showing greater tenderness,” wrote Ireland, yet “none could assume a more forbidding expressing of anger and contempt.”
41
And he could flash to both extremes in half a sentence. It took a nimble secretary to know how best to approach him at a given moment.
41
And he could flash to both extremes in half a sentence. It took a nimble secretary to know how best to approach him at a given moment.
Telling Pulitzer a joke was an even riskier business. He was lustily appreciative if he got it, petulant if he did not, and furious if it was aimed at him. A safer way to lift his spirits was to let him exercise what Ireland called his zest for contradiction: “Indeed, nothing put him in such good humor as to discover a cleft in your intellectual armor, provided that you really possessed some talent, faculty, or resource which was useful to him.”
42
That last point was important. Pulitzer held his intellectual punching bags in high regard; it gave him no pleasure to beat up on stiffs. They, in turn, were so impressed with his gifts and occasional displays of generosity that they tended to excuse his excesses. “When I recall,” wrote Ireland, “the capaciousness of his understanding, the breadth of his experience, the range of his information, and set them side by side with the cruel limitations imposed upon him by his blindness and by his shattered constitution, I forget the severity of his discipline.”
43
42
That last point was important. Pulitzer held his intellectual punching bags in high regard; it gave him no pleasure to beat up on stiffs. They, in turn, were so impressed with his gifts and occasional displays of generosity that they tended to excuse his excesses. “When I recall,” wrote Ireland, “the capaciousness of his understanding, the breadth of his experience, the range of his information, and set them side by side with the cruel limitations imposed upon him by his blindness and by his shattered constitution, I forget the severity of his discipline.”
43
On returning from Europe in 1897, Pulitzer set up at Bar Harbor for the summer. His estate, Chatwold, with its four-story soundproofed Tower of Silence, fronted on Frenchman’s Bay. The cool sea air took the edge off his asthma. He saw something of his family, lodged in the main quarters. He also mixed selectively with local society, which included the university presidents Charles William Eliot (Harvard) and Seth Low (Columbia), a variety of diplomats, and Baron Hengelmüller, minister from Austria-Hungary. Society was important to Pulitzer. He had joined the better clubs in New York and it pleased him that his winter resort at Jekyll Island put him in the company of Morgans, Astors, Rockefellers, and Harrimans. But the idea of society was always better than the reality. His long career of anti-establishment crusades made him suspect in the eyes of the great families and, much as he wanted to be welcomed at their hearths, his convictions wouldn’t permit him to forswear further attacks. As he complained to Alfred Harmsworth, “I am the loneliest man in the world. People who dine at my table one night might find themselves arraigned in my newspaper the next morning.”
44
44
One of Pulitzer’s preoccupations that summer, as for the previous eighteen months, was the financial shape of his newspapers. At the start of the war with Hearst he’d been selling 185,000 copies of the morning
World
at two cents, another 340,000 of the
Evening World,
and about 450,000 of the Sunday
World.
The morning edition had hit a peak of 312,000 in the wake of his 1896 price cut but was now hovering around 300,000. The evening paper was down about 5 percent and the Sunday edition 10 percent. The
World
and the
Journal
each claimed a combined circulation in all weekday editions of 750,000. Pulitzer got to that figure by counting a triweekly summary of his paper published mostly for out-of-towners; Hearst inflated his numbers by throwing in the circulation of his German-language edition.
World
at two cents, another 340,000 of the
Evening World,
and about 450,000 of the Sunday
World.
The morning edition had hit a peak of 312,000 in the wake of his 1896 price cut but was now hovering around 300,000. The evening paper was down about 5 percent and the Sunday edition 10 percent. The
World
and the
Journal
each claimed a combined circulation in all weekday editions of 750,000. Pulitzer got to that figure by counting a triweekly summary of his paper published mostly for out-of-towners; Hearst inflated his numbers by throwing in the circulation of his German-language edition.
Whichever way circulation was tallied, Pulitzer’s revenues were suffering because he had dropped his cover price. He had also had to ramp up editorial and promotional spending to keep pace with Hearst, and the
Journal
was likely cutting into his advertising business. Like every other proprietor on Park Row, Pulitzer was watching his margins shrink. He was still a long way from poor. One estimate had his annual newspaper income falling from just under a million to just over half a million. On top of that he had solid profits from his St. Louis paper, and his earnings from his myriad non-publishing investments, but the decline unnerved him.
Journal
was likely cutting into his advertising business. Like every other proprietor on Park Row, Pulitzer was watching his margins shrink. He was still a long way from poor. One estimate had his annual newspaper income falling from just under a million to just over half a million. On top of that he had solid profits from his St. Louis paper, and his earnings from his myriad non-publishing investments, but the decline unnerved him.
Pulitzer was already cutting costs, particularly by reducing the number of pages he published each day. He now went further, hauling his managers out to Chatwold for yet another lecture on economizing, and berating them in memos. “Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong Ding Dong the word economy into [editor E.O.] Chamberlin until he has nervous prostration,” read one missive.
45
He also tightened up his personal expenses, which were then running at about $350,000 a year. Rather than deal with the large burdens—his yacht, his entourage, his several homes—he challenged the coal bill at Bar Harbor, browbeat his doctors about their fees, and put the screws to Kate, who was spending $6,000 a month in support of the entire Pulitzer household. Incensed, she informed her husband’s secretary, Alfred Butes, that without immediate relief she was headed for debtor’s prison:
45
He also tightened up his personal expenses, which were then running at about $350,000 a year. Rather than deal with the large burdens—his yacht, his entourage, his several homes—he challenged the coal bill at Bar Harbor, browbeat his doctors about their fees, and put the screws to Kate, who was spending $6,000 a month in support of the entire Pulitzer household. Incensed, she informed her husband’s secretary, Alfred Butes, that without immediate relief she was headed for debtor’s prison:
Seriously, do get Mr. Pulitzer to attend to this at once, & send me a check at once. Don’t let the paper, in this instance, come before his family. I hate to owe money. When I had probably nothing, I owed nothing. Now that I am supposed to have much, I owe much. This seems unfair & I will not consent to it. J.P. told me to pay all bills whether rightfully included in my allowance or not & let him have the totals. I hope there will be no brouhaha about this, but in any event I will not suffer any further worry. Money is such a contemptible thing to so constantly fight about. I wish there was no such thing as money in the world. Do make him careful in avoiding high winds, bright lights, glare, and sudden violent movements. As long as his eyes trouble him he should not go into the pool, nor ride horseback. These things, at least, he can do, even though it is impossible for him to stop worrying.
46
While financial difficulties clearly contributed to Pulitzer’s unease in ’97, his confidence in his means seemed to blow hot and cold. When he was not trying to squeeze a few nickels out of the mechanic who repaired his steam launch in Maine, he was considering the purchase of William Rockefeller’s estate at Tarrytown, priced at $350,000. In the spring of ’97, the trade press reported a rumor that he was purchasing the Calumet Place residence of Mrs. John A. Logan in Washington, DC. “It evidently pays to own a great paper like the New York
World,
” wrote
The Fourth Estate,
noting that in addition to his 55th Street mansion and extensively renovated properties in Bar Harbor and Jekyll Island, Pulitzer also rented cottages from time to time at Newport, Lenox, and Lakewood.
47
One suspects the loss of income bothered him less than the threat to his stature on Park Row.
World,
” wrote
The Fourth Estate,
noting that in addition to his 55th Street mansion and extensively renovated properties in Bar Harbor and Jekyll Island, Pulitzer also rented cottages from time to time at Newport, Lenox, and Lakewood.
47
One suspects the loss of income bothered him less than the threat to his stature on Park Row.
Pulitzer was immensely proud of what he had accomplished in New York. He considered himself a publishing genius, a journalistic and commercial innovator, a popular educator, a righteous crusader for justice and liberty, a friend to the poor and oppressed, a scourge of predatory wealth, as well as a presidential kingmaker and an international peace broker. Above all else, he cherished the role of trusted tribune of the great American people, whose faith in his powers was demonstrated every day by the unexampled sale of his newspapers. It was an impossibly grand self-image but one Pulitzer could sustain so long as the
World
continued to outsell all rivals. Hearst was ruining that. He had arrived from nowhere to challenge all of Pulitzer’s roles. His was the paper with the strongest voice and the sparkling new features, the biggest names and brightest talent. His soup kitchens had the longest lines and his fireworks the loudest bang. He had all the energy and momentum, and his sales were going nowhere but up. For thirteen years Pulitzer had reigned supreme and unrivaled at the summit of Park Row. Suddenly it was all in jeopardy. Even worse, the conservative papers were lumping him in with Hearst in their condemnations of the yellow papers.
World
continued to outsell all rivals. Hearst was ruining that. He had arrived from nowhere to challenge all of Pulitzer’s roles. His was the paper with the strongest voice and the sparkling new features, the biggest names and brightest talent. His soup kitchens had the longest lines and his fireworks the loudest bang. He had all the energy and momentum, and his sales were going nowhere but up. For thirteen years Pulitzer had reigned supreme and unrivaled at the summit of Park Row. Suddenly it was all in jeopardy. Even worse, the conservative papers were lumping him in with Hearst in their condemnations of the yellow papers.
In his blacker moments, Pulitzer was withering in his assessment of Hearst and the
Journal:
“[He] is welcome to spend another million or two if he wants to advertise himself still more as the man who could not, like Bennett and Greeley, create a paper with brains and ideas of his own, but who did have the distinction of sinking millions.”
48
When provoked, Hearst could be just as nasty about Pulitzer, calling him “a journalist who made his money by pandering to the worst tastes of the prurient and horror-loving, by dealing in bogus news, such as forged cablegrams from eminent personages, and by affecting a devotion to the interests of the people while never really hurting those of their enemies, and sedulously looking out for his own.”
49
Journal:
“[He] is welcome to spend another million or two if he wants to advertise himself still more as the man who could not, like Bennett and Greeley, create a paper with brains and ideas of his own, but who did have the distinction of sinking millions.”
48
When provoked, Hearst could be just as nasty about Pulitzer, calling him “a journalist who made his money by pandering to the worst tastes of the prurient and horror-loving, by dealing in bogus news, such as forged cablegrams from eminent personages, and by affecting a devotion to the interests of the people while never really hurting those of their enemies, and sedulously looking out for his own.”
49
But just as Hearst had admitted privately in letters to his father and through his own actions that he held the
World
in considerable esteem, Pulitzer, in the right mood, would confess an admiration for his young rival and his paper. Hearst, he wrote
World
executive Don Seitz, possessed both “brains and genius, not only brains for news and features but genius for the self-advertising acts which have no parallel.”
50
Pulitzer refused to let his employees disparage the
Journal
and gave them his personal view that it was “a wonderfully able & attractive and popular paper.”
51
On one occasion, he pointed out an ingenious item in the
Journal
and complained to his men, “That is the sort of brains the
World
needs. Pardon me for saying also, that with all [the
Journal
’s] faults, which I should not like to copy—though they have been exaggerated—it is a newspaper.”
52
Interestingly, Pulitzer counted among the
Journal
’s strengths not only such obvious items as the quality of its pictures or the talent of its writers but also the fact that it stole the
World
’s best stories and ideas without reservation. He urged his managers to follow suit.
World
in considerable esteem, Pulitzer, in the right mood, would confess an admiration for his young rival and his paper. Hearst, he wrote
World
executive Don Seitz, possessed both “brains and genius, not only brains for news and features but genius for the self-advertising acts which have no parallel.”
50
Pulitzer refused to let his employees disparage the
Journal
and gave them his personal view that it was “a wonderfully able & attractive and popular paper.”
51
On one occasion, he pointed out an ingenious item in the
Journal
and complained to his men, “That is the sort of brains the
World
needs. Pardon me for saying also, that with all [the
Journal
’s] faults, which I should not like to copy—though they have been exaggerated—it is a newspaper.”
52
Interestingly, Pulitzer counted among the
Journal
’s strengths not only such obvious items as the quality of its pictures or the talent of its writers but also the fact that it stole the
World
’s best stories and ideas without reservation. He urged his managers to follow suit.
The big question for Pulitzer was how long Hearst could keep it up. He studied his opponent for signs of weakness. He knew as well as anyone the physical and mental strain of managing a fledgling property in the heat of a Manhattan newspaper war. Pulitzer had been almost as young as Hearst when he had bought the
World
and challenged Dana’s supremacy. He had triumphed, but at the cost of his health. Pulitzer knew in his bones that no man could sustain Hearst’s pace indefinitely. The competitive demands would wear on him, as would the attacks of his competitors. It would be difficult for the challenger to maintain his superhuman levels of concentration and fighting spirit when his flaws were exposed, his best ideas were copied or stolen, and his novelty and exuberance waned. There were no signs as yet, however, that the young man was anything but energized by the strife. Imagining his imminent physical collapse wasn’t a sound business strategy.
World
and challenged Dana’s supremacy. He had triumphed, but at the cost of his health. Pulitzer knew in his bones that no man could sustain Hearst’s pace indefinitely. The competitive demands would wear on him, as would the attacks of his competitors. It would be difficult for the challenger to maintain his superhuman levels of concentration and fighting spirit when his flaws were exposed, his best ideas were copied or stolen, and his novelty and exuberance waned. There were no signs as yet, however, that the young man was anything but energized by the strife. Imagining his imminent physical collapse wasn’t a sound business strategy.
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