Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [48]
Opening business concluded, the delegates began to clamor for Schurz to speak. He declined, despite noisy cries of “Now! Now!”—but he said there would be time later. It was an intoxicating moment for Pulitzer, standing on the floor sporting a new mustache and a little tuft of a beard on his chin. Grosvenor, his political partner, held the convention’s gavel, and the man for whom the audience clamored was his mentor. The Bill and Joe Show had launched a national movement.
The next day the main order of business was the long-awaited speech by Schurz. He began with a litany of criticisms of the Grant administration, ranging from its alleged disrespect for law to its tyrannical tendencies. But Schurz knew that a music hall filled with idealistic Republicans would not be enough to prevail in the fall. “I earnestly deprecate the cry we have heard so frequently, ‘Anybody to beat Grant,’” said Schurz. “We don’t want a mere change of persons in the administration of government. We want the overthrow of a pernicious system.”
Schurz’s speech concluded, the delegates went to work on adopting a platform. Most of the planks were polished versions of the well-known Liberal calls for reform. With the exception of a tortured compromise on the tariff plank, the platform looked pretty much like the one adopted in Jefferson City four months ago when Grosvenor and Pulitzer ran the show. In fact, one newspaper called the convention’s final platform “a literal transcript from the platform of Bill and Joe.”
The delegates went back to their hotels for a night’s rest before the anticipated long struggle to select the man who would lead the party into the fall elections. The coming battle caused the first split between Pulitzer and his mentor. Schurz had grown increasingly hostile toward Brown since the 1870 election and now favored Adams for the nomination. Pulitzer remained loyal to Brown. He was not planning to desert his political patron even if his mentor did.
During the day, one of Brown’s delegates had wired the governor to say that Schurz and Grosvenor were working to deny him the nomination. Brown immediately boarded a train for Cincinnati—a dramatic action in an era when candidates were expected to stay away from a nominating convention. In the company of Senator Francis Blair, Brown reached the city late that evening and went directly to the St. James Hotel. Running up and down corridors and knocking on doors, Grosvenor yelled, “Get up! Get up! Blair and Brown are here from St. Louis!”
When the bleary-eyed delegates came down to the lobby, Grosvenor told them that Brown had come to Cincinnati to withdraw from the race and throw his support to Greeley. The startled delegates—especially those who supported Adams or Trumbull—stayed up into the morning hours reworking their strategies for the coming day of balloting. Members of the Quadrilateral also milled about, but they were mostly powerless because time was too short to write editorials, wire them, and publish them back home.
At long last, the moment arrived to select the convention’s candidate. Nominating speeches were not permitted, and the first roll call got under way. Brown, who was seated with the Missouri delegation, sent a note up to Schurz asking to be permitted to address the convention. Remarkably, Schurz consented.
On the floor Pulitzer watched his candidate ascend the steps of the platform. With the light from a window far above beaming down on him, Brown thanked the delegates for voting for him. Even though the first tally had not yet been announced, most delegates kept their own count and knew he had close to 100 votes. Then Brown made public what those who had been up most of the night anticipated. He would no longer be a candidate. Instead he asked that his