Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [121]
Pulitzer even found time and, more remarkably, had enough interest, to take a lunchtime river cruise in Jay Gould’s new yacht, along with the Sun’s editor Dana and William Dorsheimer, a Democrat starting his term in Congress. That Pulitzer sought the company of these two guests was understandable. He had known both for almost a decade and shared their political beliefs. But his willingness to enjoy Gould’s yacht, food, drink, and company betrayed a dichotomy in Pulitzer that widened as he accumulated wealth. He wanted to be accepted by the elite while making a living trashing them in his paper.
Pulitzer may have taunted the wealthy, attacked their political power, and criticized their sense of entitlement, but he planned to be among them. A few weeks after his lunch with Gould, the World printed a list of New York’s millionaires. “We find the names of only three or four newspaper publishers in the magnificent array,” Pulitzer wrote. “By this time next year, as things are going, the list will be beautified with the names of at least a half-dozen journalists. We could name them now, but modesty forbids.”
In August, Pulitzer dashed out to Ohio in support of a Democrat, Judge Hoadly, who was a candidate for governor. The campaign had already deteriorated into a raucous, dirty, knockdown fight after a convention that one newspaper reporter said was more akin to a bullfight than a political meeting. Sitting in the smoking car from Urbana to Columbus, Pulitzer struck up a conversation with a reporter for McLean’s Cincinnati Enquirer, which strongly opposed Hoadly.
“This is a perfect hell you’ve been raising,” Pulitzer said.
“Just a trifle that I couldn’t well help,” replied the reporter.
Pulitzer was unconvinced and said he thought the Enquirer’s publisher was seeking revenge against Hoadly, who was involved with a competing paper.
“Well, that’s only natural,” the reporter said. “You don’t publish a newspaper as a matter of sentiment; you publish it to make money.”
“Now, I do publish a newspaper as a matter of sentiment—two of them,” replied Pulitzer. “My paper in New York City is straight-out Democratic, because in that city I am possessed of the backing of strong Democratic sentiment. My paper in St. Louis is independent, because in that city I have a strong independent sentiment.”
The two then shared a number of confidences about the campaign, including Hoadly’s belief that his election to governor would make him a leading contender for president the following year. “Bah,” said Pulitzer, “the Democratic party will not go to Ohio to find its next candidate, and if it should, nobody need fear that it would select Hoadly.”
When the train reached its destination, Pulitzer was met by one of the state’s leading Democrats. Pulitzer told him of the conversation on the train. The politician assured Pulitzer that the reporter could be trusted to keep it to himself. None of them, however, took account of the fact that the man in the seat behind them worked for the New York Times, which eagerly published a transcript, giving Pulitzer a taste of public embarrassment of the kind he usually dished out.
By the end of August 1883, with the World’s circulation twice what it had been before he bought the paper, Pulitzer felt sufficiently comfortable to leave New York for almost a month. Henry Villard, one of the nation’s most prominent railroad men,