Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [211]
Backing Bryan put Pulitzer once again in the camp opposing Theodore Roosevelt, because Bryan’s opponent, McKinley, selected the young New York governor for the vice-presidential nomination. Roosevelt traveled around the country, verbally assailing Bryan, while McKinley remained above the fray. According to Roosevelt, Bryan was espousing “communistic and socialist doctrine” and supporting him were “all the lunatics, all the idiots, all the knaves, all the cowards, and all the honest people who are slow-witted.” Pulitzer had no interest in sticking around for the results at the polls. The election was a rerun of 1896, with the Republicans bound to make even more gains. For the first time ever, Pulitzer made sure he was a long way off by Election Day.
In the early morning of October 9, Pulitzer was asleep in his cabin on the Oceanic, bound for England and then to Wiesbaden to take baths and consult doctors. As the ship neared the coast of Ireland, it slowed its pace, feeling its way through a rain squall. At about four o’clock, when the ship was almost at a stop so as to take a sounding, the watch crew found themselves staring at looming Irish cliffs. The engines were thrown into reverse, shaking the ship and waking all the passengers. Before its progress could be halted, the hull struck part of the outcropping rock ledge, making a grinding, grating noise.
“In the few moments of doubt the watertight compartments had been closed and the life boats made ready,” said Hosmer, who was in the cabin adjacent to Pulitzer’s. Thinking that the ship’s lurching indicated its arrival in port, Pulitzer had risen and dressed himself. “He came out in a state of perfect calm and self-possession,” noted Hosmer. The two walked on the deck for an hour and then returned to bed. The ship continued safely to port in England.
This was not the last mishap before the end of their journey. A train wreck blocked the rails leading to Cologne, Germany. In the middle of the night, Pulitzer and his companions had to leave their train and walk through a field to board another one on the other side of the accident. It took thirty hours to finally reach Wiesbaden. Pulitzer, who had caught a cold in London, remained in bed for twenty-four of those hours. “Inevitably,” Hosmer reported to Kate, “everything was wrong all the time and the world was full of damn fools.”
The new century opened with greater promise for Pulitzer. More than half of the $524,600 he lent the World to keep it afloat in 1898 had been repaid as the paper regained profitability. The plan for a secret combination with Hearst, which had stalled in negotiations, lost its appeal now that money was to be made again. In fact, the paper’s health was such that it withstood an advertising boycott by Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s, and other New York retailers who, thinking that the World was financially weak, had banded together to try to obtain a reduction in advertising rates. They miscalculated and found their sales plummeting when their large display advertisements were not printed.
An upturn in the economy also gave Pulitzer immense gains in the stock market. In fact, until the end of his life, his investment earnings frequently exceeded those from his two newspapers. He relied heavily on the banker Dumont Clarke to manage his investments; but, as with his newspaper managers and editors, Pulitzer rarely left Clarke alone to do his work. Instead, he regularly sent investment instructions based on inside information, sometimes obtained by his editors from their personal contacts.
Pulitzer invested in railroads, steel, and utilities, which were then the dominant industries in the stock market. Owning shares in these companies breached Pulitzer’s political and moral views. He was putting his own personal wealth into companies he had long disdained because of their treatment of workers. Many were trusts and monopolies, as well. All were targets of the World’s editorials. Pulitzer fretted about this and on rare occasions asked Clarke to divest him of the most odious. Still,