The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba(81)
I stand there a few minutes longer than is wise, drinking in the sight of Isabella, and then I turn and walk away, the scent of death and disease clinging to my worn clothes.
She is safer here than any home that I can give her now, and as desperately as I want her with me, as much as it hurts, sometimes the best thing you can do is send those you love away.
Thirty-Four
Grace
The front page of the February 16 New York Journal is consumed by the Maine. The other stories we were previously working on have been abandoned or pushed to other parts of the newspaper. In Hearst’s mind this is the only story that matters. This is the biggest event since President Lincoln’s assassination.
A day after the explosion, Teddy Roosevelt proclaims the Spanish to be guilty as details pour in from our correspondents who have seen the scene, but the situation is chaotic at best. Hearst offers a hefty reward for information solving the mystery of who sank the ship.
Hundreds of American sailors are dead, and no one knows why. Many think it’s an act of Spanish aggression, even though Consul General Lee has stated it was likely an accident. Still, there is no consensus on the Maine explosion, but what does it matter, really? An American warship has blown up in waters controlled by the Spanish, and regardless of the cause, this is the shot across the bow Hearst has been waiting for, and there’s no doubt he means to make the most of it. Day after day, we cover the Maine, using conjecture where there are still more questions than answers, even if our best guesses are presented more as facts. It’s a dangerous kind of reporting given what is at stake if we do go to war. How can we ask men to risk their lives if we lie to them about what they’re fighting for?
We’ve been covering the Spanish as villains for so long that the public can see them in no other role. They are guilty of so many crimes—both things we have accused them of that may or may not be true and then matters like the de L?me letter where their guilt is spelled out in black newsprint—that for them there is no redemption. They are the de facto villains whether they are guilty of blowing up the Maine or not.
Hearst sends one of his yachts down to Cuba filled with his star correspondents—Karl Decker, James Creelman, Frederic Remington, and more—and a delegation of politicians. He offers his personal services and the use of his yacht to the navy as war fever spreads through the Journal newsroom.
The other newspapers have no choice but to follow Hearst’s lead, and even Pulitzer has dived into the coverage with gusto.
“Remember the Maine” has become a rallying cry for all.
Where Hearst took an incendiary approach with the Maine, Pulitzer’s coverage has been more measured, publishing President McKinley’s early comments that he believes the explosion to be accidental. While Scovel’s initial coverage on the Maine was praised, and Pulitzer tried to send a crew of divers to the wreck to inspect the damage only to be denied access at the scene, his initial forays haven’t been enough to sustain the same volume and magnitude of Hearst’s efforts. Since Pulitzer’s World hasn’t fared as well against the Journal in the circulation race, rumors have begun to spread that he’s facing financial problems.
Bulletin boards have been erected on Park Row and at strategic points throughout the city, the competition between the newspapers growing more and more fierce, accusations of newspapers stealing stories from one another growing.
We might not have war in Cuba yet, but we certainly have it on Park Row.
Thirty-Five
Marina
Before
“What have you done?”
The shock in my mother’s voice is one thing, but the hurt contained there, her eyes wide, skin pale, creates a knot in my stomach.
“I’ve told Mateo I will marry him.”
I’ve always strived to please my parents, to be the daughter they wanted me to be, to cause little trouble and to draw as little negative attention to myself as possible. There was enough disharmony in my family because of their marital disagreements that I strove to keep the peace. To keep them both happy.
But despite what my mother may think, this marriage is not some rebellion against my parents’ authority or how I was raised.
I have loved Mateo all my life.
“You have not,” she snaps.
“I have. He’s a good man. He cares for me very much. I haven’t done anything wrong. We love each other.”
I could have dealt with anger, but the sadness in her eyes nearly undoes me.
“Oh, Marina. He may be a good man, but what kind of life will he offer you? Living in a little hut in the country somewhere while you work in the fields? What sort of life will your children have? He seemed like a nice enough boy, which is why I never objected to you playing with him when you were too young to know better and there were no other playmates to be had in the country. But he’s not for you.”
“That’s not true. He’s everything to me.”
“Then you would choose him over your family?”
“I would rather I didn’t have to choose at all. Why can’t I love you both? Why can’t he be part of our family, too? Why does it have to be like this?”
“Your father would never accept him. You know that. The shame that would fall on this family would destroy our position in society, everything we have worked for.”