The most illustrious journalist no one ever heard of

USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), July, 1998 by William H. Rentschler

The New York Times was his greatest achievement and foremost concern. Nevertheless, except for brief periods, he never could disentangle himself from the web of politics. He lived in an age of political consciousness and bitter partisan cleavages. Every man belonged to one party or the other, and to detect evil in its own ranks, or good in those of opponents, was akin to heresy.

Raymond was so constituted that he could be naught but an outlander. "I have learned," he wrote in 1860, "not to look for absolute and unmixed good--or evil--in any one organization and I believe it to be a good and patriotic service to criticize both and all parties, in the light of common sense and exclusive regard for the public good." The subscribers of The Times got the benefit of this independence, but when it separated him from the majority of his party in 1866, droves of unsympathetic readers abandoned the paper.

Independence of thought was little admired--much less condoned--in his day. "Such a course," he conceded, "offends all by turns, and secures the warm attachment of none," but even such an admission did not deter him from his course. He was among the very first of America's independent journalists; few have survived the oppressive corporatization and homogenization that afflicts today's journalism.

The common denominator of The Times' greatness was its treatment of the news. However clean and crisp the typography, however sharp and telling the features, however comprehensive the discussions of the arts, the newspaper's conscientiously objective and accurate news coverage was its hallmark of distinction. Raymond's party affiliation dictated a certain adherence to its policies, but he always could justify editorial deviations by commending his readers to the news columns of The Times. There, they could find the unabridged facts and corroborate or reject editorial-page opinion.

Perhaps this objectivity seems unremarkable. It is, after all, the proper purpose of the press to record factually the events of each passing day. Yet, even today, the broad fulfillment of that concept is remote. By the middle of the 19th century, it had gained no foothold at all in New York, hub of the American press. Greeley's Tribune was at once pious and violent, spectacular and bitterly partisan. Bennett's Herald presented a sort of encompassing coverage of the seamy side of life. Day's Sun concerned itself with trivialities and catered largely to a class of domestic and unemployed malcontents. Webb's stodgy Courier and Enquirer cut a wide swath among the commercial gentry, but sidetracked the news in favor of a preponderance of advertisements. In the midst of plenty, there was the want of a solid newspaper. Raymond, with his Times, filled that gaping cavity.

He had the attributes of an ideal editor. He wrote effortlessly, rapidly, at times brilliantly. His mind was razor-keen and he was a born reporter. Raymond was a learned man in a field that thus far had attracted just a handful of college graduates. He was an able, diplomatic administrator, and he inspired in his subordinates a strong sense of respect and affection. He was demanding, too, and insisted that his staff follow his example and throw themselves unsparingly into their work.