Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [225]
When Francis returned to St. Louis he was shocked to learn that Pulitzer was seeking more cash and fewer loans. He protested that the publisher was changing the terms of their agreement. “Answering your telegram,” replied Pulitzer, “you accepted nothing except your own imagination.” In the end, the unsigned documents that had been drawn up were forwarded to Seitz in New York; he locked them away in a safe-deposit box. It was the last time Pulitzer would toy with the idea of giving up the newspaper that had launched his career as a publisher.
Francis was not the only one to suffer from Pulitzer’s fickleness that winter. President Butler of Columbia University was astonished to learn that his new benefactor no longer wanted to proceed with the plan to build a journalism school. The university had custody of half of the promised $2 million and was ready to proceed. But the fight over the advisory board had left bruised feelings on both sides and Pulitzer altered the terms of his gift. He left it to Merrill to explain his actions.
“Mr. Pulitzer is alone responsible for the present delay,” Merrill told reporters. “His present determination is that actual establishment of the college of journalism shall be postponed until his death.” He explained that Pulitzer’s fragile health prevented him from devoting the necessary time to the project, that a suitable leader for the college had not been located, and that waiting until his death would remove any suggestion that Pulitzer was unduly interfering with Columbia’s decisions on how to set up the college, although in fact he was.
“To avoid all uncertainties or misconceptions,” Merrill said, “I may add that the endowment of this college is absolutely irrevocable, and its establishment beyond a shadow of doubts.” All would have to wait, however, for Pulitzer’s death. Columbia would pay him the income from the $1 million it held, and Butler began a deathwatch.
On April 10, 1905, Joseph turned fifty-eight. Kate sent birthday wishes from London. “At least you have the consolation of feeling that your life, though full of worries and much unhappiness, has been full of achievement too, that you will have left your mark in your generation,” she wrote. But the birthday reminded Joseph of his mortality and his ever-present fear that his achievement—the World—would die with him. In his eyes, neither Ralph nor Joe was preparing for a future role as a newspaper owner. He reminded Ralph that heirs, such as those in the Gould family, were often forced to sell their inherited businesses. “I wish I could still more strongly impress upon you, and above all on Joe, and your mind the necessity of the proprietor’s ability to manage his property,” he said.
Newspaper management was not foremost on Ralph’s mind. He had been courting Frederica Webb, who was the great-granddaughter of Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt and thus a member of a family the World routinely assailed and ridiculed. He was getting up the courage to tell his controlling father that he had asked her to marry him. Ralph had cause to worry. For Joseph’s children, any encounter with their father could go wrong. One night at dinner the prior fall, Joseph had told Edith that she must cease riding Constance’s horse, which was recuperating from an injury. Edith began to defend herself, but her father cut her off. When she complained, he laughingly said he would probably interrupt her again but that she should continue.
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Edith on the verge of tears. “If anything happens to any horse