Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [243]
Roosevelt did not mention Stimson’s estimation that there were no applicable federal laws. In state court, both the president’s brother-in-law and the brother of the president-elect had grounds to pursue a civil libel case. For that matter, so would Cromwell, if he were willing to have a court examine his conduct during the acquisition of the canal. The president, as a public figure, would have a harder time winning a libel case. But that was not his goal. By his public declaration and his behind-the-scenes orders to the Justice Department, Roosevelt made it clear he wanted to use the Federal Government as a club to silence Pulitzer.
Congress returned the documents without comment. Its silent but mocking response only further aggravated the president. If the legislature didn’t care about his reputation, he would make sure those who worked for him did.
While Roosevelt was seeking help from Congress in punishing Pulitzer for his affront to the presidency, the Liberty docked in New York. In the soundproof underground room of Pulitzer’s house on East Seventy-Third Street, it fell to Norman Thwaites to read aloud an account of Roosevelt’s message appearing in the evening papers. The secretary steeled himself for an angry outburst, but none came. “Go on,” Pulitzer said quietly, and Thwaites continued reading. “Suddenly,” Thwaites said, “he rose from the couch on which he was taking his afternoon rest and smote the coverlet with clenched fist.”
“The World cannot be muzzled! That’s the headline,” Pulitzer burst out. Then, dictating at a clip that strained the capacity of Thwaites’s shorthand, he dictated an editorial. “Send for Cobb. Tell him to be here in a half-hour.” Pulitzer also summoned his managing editor, Van Hamm. They took a carriage ride around Central Park. Van Hamm brought Pulitzer unwelcome news. “We have no conclusive evidence to establish those statements which the President charges us with making,” he told Pulitzer. Reviewing the course of events, he insisted that the World was not at fault. Robinson and Taft were linked to the scandal by Cromwell’s public relations man, who had named them in his statement about the alleged blackmail that triggered the whole affair.
This didn’t satisfy Pulitzer. He ordered the paper to stop printing any more articles about Panama and the missing money. “It is idiotic, as we have no proof whatever of any of these charges. Impress this upon Mr. Van Hamm. I want accuracy, truth, and restraint,” he told Seitz. “The honor and truthfulness of the paper is my honor. Much of what Roosevelt says is true. The World ought not have made that charge.”
There was nothing Pulitzer could do about that now. Instead, he talked with Cobb about mounting the paper’s defense. Pulitzer wanted to follow up his editorial with a selection of Roosevelt’s previous denunciations to illustrate the president’s extreme verbal intemperance. “Now, I hope this is clear and that you will put every single one of the editorial writers to work,” he told Cobb. “Tell the editorial gentlemen to dine downtown at my expense and have a good bottle of wine. Let them stay down till midnight. I consider this an emergency.”
By nightfall, Pulitzer also released a statement for the reporters, who had been calling all day. “So far as I am personally concerned,” he said, “I was at sea during the whole of October, and, in fact, practically for two years I have been yachting on account of my health.” He claimed never to have read any of the offending articles and said he had nothing to do with them. “Mr. Roosevelt knows all this perfectly well. He knows I am a chronic invalid and mostly abroad yachting on account of my health.”
It was a half-truth. Although Pulitzer had been unaware of the escalation of the stories about Panama, he knew that the paper was pursuing the matter. In fact, as early as June he had discussed it with Cobb. He liked to claim that his only domain