The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba(19)
Brisbane is one of the hardest working editors, waking hours earlier than others to get the news out before they do. Hearst wooed him away from Pulitzer after a dispute over the editorial freedom and direction of the World. Hearst and Brisbane are more than just publisher and editor; they’ve also become roommates and friends.
In an industry where editorial personalities set the tone for the newsroom, Brisbane is a fair and energetic employer, and his assistant editor, Elizabeth Garver Jordan, has become another inspiration to me.
“Harrington,” Hearst calls from his office interrupting my struggles describing an imaginary ghost.
I pick up my pad and pen from the desk, scurrying over to where he stands in the doorway with another man.
“Yes, Mr. Hearst?”
“This is my friend Rafael Harden.” He gestures toward the man beside him.
It takes me a moment to place him. It’s the same man from that first day in Hearst’s office. The one with the showgirl nearly on his lap.
Rafael Harden inclines his head ever so faintly in greeting, hardly enough to be considered polite.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Harden,” I murmur as I study him, trying to discern why Hearst has introduced us.
Rafael Harden’s clothes appear expensive, his entire manner giving the impression that he is someone accustomed to having his way. He looks like one of those new-money men who have built palatial mansions on Fifth Avenue, and given the rumors that Hearst eschews most of proper society, I imagine he is.
“His sister belongs to one of the Cuban revolutionary women’s clubs in the city,” Hearst continues. “They’re having a meeting today at her apartment. Rafael will take you there. I want you to see what information you can glean from them and bring your findings back here. We’ve done quite a bit with the revolutionary party in the city, but we haven’t offered our readers much perspective from inside one of these women’s clubs, and I think you’d be the perfect person to speak with them and tell their side to Journal readers. Can you handle that?”
In the past several months, both the Journal and the World have reported at length about the conflict in Cuba, each trying to outdo the other in their battle for newspaper supremacy. When he first hired me, Hearst dangled Cuba before me, but up until now, I haven’t had a chance to work on one of the Journal’s more high-profile stories. Maybe this is a sign that he’s appreciated the stunt work I’ve done and thinks I’m ready for more substantial material.
Cuba is on everyone’s minds. The Republican William McKinley was elected president after a contentious election, ensuring the moneyed classes have a friend in the White House. His views on Cuba remain to be seen, but after his own military experiences, he is said to be opposed to war in principle. And still, he supports the Monroe Doctrine and firm foreign policy, and his political party favors intervention and foreign investment opportunities. He’s rumored to be a man concerned with courting public opinion, and therein lies Mr. Hearst’s opportunity. Conflict seems imminent, and we are all on tenterhooks to see what McKinley will do. The stock market has been particularly volatile, plunging considerably, and the number of people joining militia groups has risen substantially.
The stories coming from our correspondents in Cuba are grim. Hearst has moved beyond his desire for the United States to formally recognize the revolutionary movement and is demanding that the American government restore order in Cuba, protecting American citizens and their investments on the island, and bringing an end to Spain’s suppression of the rebellion and the suffering of the Cuban people. For a country like the United States founded on a desire for liberation from a foreign power, the conflict in Cuba certainly resonates with our American audience. Not to mention, the close proximity to our shores makes Cuba a more compelling issue for our readers than so many other places around the world where horrible things happen on a regular basis.
The Spanish have made it harder to get news and correspondents in and out of the country, so Hearst has commissioned a new dispatch boat to travel down to the region, a yacht that is considered to be the fastest in New York, the Vamoose. Still, censors monitor everything, and Hearst’s correspondents’ movements are closely tracked, the Spanish careful to keep our reporters from getting too close to the fighting and to the revolutionaries. The end result is that most of our impressions of the war come from Cuban sources outside of the country—groups like these women’s clubs and their male counterparts. There are estimated to be well over one hundred such clubs in the United States.
“Bring me something good,” Hearst says before dismissing me.
“Yes, of course. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
I lengthen my strides in an attempt to keep up with Mr. Harden as I follow him, curious gazes being cast our way. As usual, the newsroom is a flurry of activity, and everyone is eager to get the scoop on breaking news—including the sight of me with one of Hearst’s personal friends.
We exit the newsroom and walk through the building. Mr. Harden glances back at me a few times, but he doesn’t slow down until we reach the street where an ostentatious carriage waits at the curb.
Rafael gestures for me to enter the vehicle ahead of him, and I climb in and seat myself on the bench.
“How did your sister become involved with the revolutionary women’s club?” I ask him once he has settled across from me. Rafael crosses his legs, shifting to accommodate his size. For as big as the carriage is, he must be several inches over six feet, and much of it is leg.