Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [70]
The next day Pulitzer returned to the railroad and a grueling campaign schedule that took him to Chicago, Milwaukee, Detroit, Boston, and New York. On the road, he continued to hammer away at Hayes, and at Levi Morton, financial chairman of the Republican National Committee. But he added a new target. With growing regularity, Pulitzer took aim at Carl Schurz, who had come in from the cold and was now supporting the Republican ticket. “If the great Schurz tells the truth, the great Morton is a liar,” Pulitzer said in one speech, highlighting the inconsistencies of the two men and drawing cheers. “If the great Morton tells the truth, the great Schurz is a liar,” he continued, to increasing cheers. And then, bringing down the house, he concluded, “If they both speak the truth they must both be liars!”
To the delight of the press, Pulitzer challenged Schurz to debate him. Schurz’s spokesman gave a dismissive response wrapped in courteous language. “In arranging for a joint discussion between gentlemen,” said the spokesman, “certainly some regard should be had to their character, services, and reputation. Having this in view, of course the proposition is declined.” Pulitzer’s friend Hutchins couldn’t resist joining the fray with a jab or two of his own in the St. Louis Times. “Of course, Mr. Schurz will not consent to a discussion of the issues of the campaign with Mr. Pulitzer, because he would be the last man to acknowledge the intellectual equality of his former lieutenant and associate.”
Although Schurz remained above the fray, his paper did not let the attack pass unchallenged. The Westliche Post published a long, scathing article on its former star reporter, editor, and part owner. “The advantage and gain, should such a debate have taken place, would all be on the side of Pulitzer,” said the paper, taking Pulitzer’s favorite tack: sarcasm. “The contest would have been like one between a louse and an elephant—the former could climb upon the latter, but the elephant would crush the louse with his left toe.” Even the New York Times, which had excoriated Schurz during the Liberal Republican revolt, now took his side. Pulitzer “belongs to the large class of unappreciated fools who mistake themselves for great men. Who is there to mourn for Pulitzer? No one.”
Pulitzer sought to portray his feud with Schurz as political, not personal. But his actions wounded their friendship, and Pulitzer confessed as much in late September. “I followed myself in the course of this counterfeit reformer with enthusiasm and admiration only possible to the warm impulses of youth that blind cold judgment,” he said. “But however much I should have preferred in ordinary times to remain silent at the grave of departed friendship, the present crisis in our history must dwarf all personal considerations.”
The drudgery of stump speeches, the tedium of railway travel, and battered friendships faded as October brought encouraging news. Democrats won the state elections in both Indiana and Ohio. The result was the very outcome that Tilden’s opponent, Hayes, feared. It seemed as if a victory for Tilden was now only a matter of time. With a favorable political wind at his back, Pulitzer appeared at the biggest venue yet—Detroit’s opera house—on October 18. He was introduced to the capacity audience as the man Schurz wouldn’t face. “And,” said the speaker introducing him, “Mr. Pulitzer, I promise you, will first analyze Mr. Schurz and then pulverize him.”
As in his other speeches, Pulitzer tore into Schurz. But this time he also offered his most direct explanation yet of his political migration during the past decade. “I am glad to say I am no partisan,