Introduction

Abstract

Imagine a middle-class family sitting down to breakfast in July 1829, in the well-to-do Bayswater section of London. The Times is face upwards on the table, its dense, unbroken text conveying dramatic news about political events in Paris. The newspaper recounts a drift towards autocracy in the government of Charles X, as well as the emergence of a popular opposition. None of this news appears on the front page, however, the latter being given over instead to small advertisements (“personals”) that concern mostly house lettings and job opportunities. News reports, from Paris and other European capitals, which are lifted primarily from Continental newspapers, appear on the two inside pages of the four-page paper next to several of the leading articles. The remainder of the inside matter (the fourth page also consists of advertisements) includes summaries of legal cases, accounts of public meetings, letters from correspondents and financial intelligence. Occasionally a prurient bit of news sneaks its way into the Times, such as an account of a murder or rape. And during the months when parliament is in session a portion of the paper’s space is given over to lengthy summaries or verbatim texts of important speeches. But there are no pictures, headlines, crossheads or by-lines. At seven pence a copy (about 13 American cents), the Times provides a compact and reassuring, if somewhat unimaginative, read for the family seated at the London breakfast table.1