Research-reading Sherlock: Holmes and the London Newspapers
Sherlock Holmes and the London Newspapers
by Alicia Rasley
The late-19th Century was a time of intense technological innovation, and as I’ve described, Holmes and Watson made great use of these new-fangled inventions. But often they resorted to the product of an old technology—the printing press.
London has been a newspaper town since the first “Gazette” was published in 1665. By 1720, there were more than a dozen London newspapers, including a couple daily papers. Several major literary figures of the time like Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift worked as journalists or essayists. In the 19th century, there were dozens of London newspapers– dailies, weeklies, and monthlies—publishing news, official announcements, and, most importantly, serial fiction.
Charles Dickens serialized all of his novels in London papers and magazines, and also sold them to newspapers in the United States. He was the most popular writer on both sides of the Atlantic… until dethroned by Conan Doyle, whose Sherlock short stories sold many thousands of copies of newspapers and magazines.
Conan Doyle’s affection for print is reflected in his many references to newspapers, magazines, railroad timetables, and even the phone book. In the Holmes stories, he often referred to real London papers, including:
The Family Herald: A Domestic Magazine of Useful Information & Amusement (which diverts Holmes’s new cook from her duties with its accounts of “love romance”).
The Morning Post (a politically conservative paper that supported the interests of the “wealthy and powerful)
The Daily Telegraph (a “science-minded journal” that reported on new technologies)
The Times of London (Watson relies on this for sober and accurate national and international news)
Pall Mall Gazette (which often published the Holmes stories in real life) 
The Daily News (a progressive newspaper founded and edited by Charles Dickens!)
Clues, Crimes, and Clients
Watson is typical of Londoners of his time, scanning several newspapers each day. He often finds his newpaper reading is a welcome distraction from the pain of his war injury: With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless….
When he sees Watson with his usual pile of papers, Holmes sighs, “Nothing of interest in the paper, Watson?”
Dr. Watson observes, “I was aware that by anything of interest, Holmes meant anything of criminal interest. There was the news of a revolution, of a possible war, and of an impending change of government; but these did not come within the horizon of my companion. I could see nothing recorded in the shape of crime which was not commonplace and futile.”
Holmes relies on him to cull through the quotidian news of the day to find items he finds more important. In fact, Watson’s obsessive reading allows him sometimes to surprise his seemingly omniscient friend. In “The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans,” Holmes wonders what his brother Mycroft’s cryptic note about “Cadogan West” might mean.
“I have it.” I cried, and plunged among the litter of papers upon the sofa. “Yes, yes, here he is, sure enough! Cadogen West was the young man who was found dead on the Underground on Tuesday morning.” Holmes sat up at attention, his pipe halfway to his lips.
In “The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor,” Holmes knows who to turn to when he needs the latest gossip about his new client. “It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The latter is always instructive. But if you have followed recent events so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?”
Watson replies, “Oh, yes, with the deepest interest.”
Ascertaining that this pertains to one of Holmes’s cases, Watson reads aloud several stories about the unfortunate bridegroom Lord St. Simon. His selection of stories gives a glimpse of the variety of papers available. First, there are some terse wedding announcements from the boringly official Morning Post, and then a long salacious opinion from an unnamed gossip rag:
“Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself for over twenty years proof against the little god’s arrows, has now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the future. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her to make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a British peeress.”
While Holmes has little interest in the national and international news, he often finds intriguing crimes in the paper. In “Silver Blaze,” he reads the Daily Telegraph stories about the shocking theft of a prize racehorse and the murder of the trainer before taking on the case. In “The Adventure of the Norwood Builder,” the headline of another Daily Telegraph article proclaims the dilemma of his new client: “Mysterious Affair at Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Well-known Builder. Suspicion of Murder and Arson. A Clue to the Criminal.”
These kinds of excerpts give us modern readers glimpses of the different types and tones of newspapers Sherlock and Dr. Watson were reading.
The Classifieds
Even the soberest London papers in Sherlock’s time featured advertisements on the front page, and these sometimes brought in clients. In “The Red-Headed League,” a red-headed pawnbroker brings in a strange help-wanted ad:
“On account of the bequest of the late Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U. S. A., there is now another vacancy open which entitles a member of the Red-Headed League to a salary of £4 a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.”
Another advertisement in “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” promises a much more lucrative pay-off. A client has brought him a blue stone (weirdly found in a goose’s crop), and Holmes recognizes it immediately: “I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have read the advertisement about it in The Times every day lately. It is absolutely unique, and its value can only be conjectured, but the reward offered of £1000 is certainly not within a twentieth part of the market price.”
Holmes realizes that the same method—a newspaper ad—could work to catch the thief who stole the jewel. He demands, “Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: ‘Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6.30 this evening at 221b, Baker Street.’ That is clear and concise…. Here you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising agency and have this put in… the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James’s, Evening News, Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to you.”
Holmes and Watson are creatures of print (literally), and it’s no surprise they would find resourceful ways to use the vast network of London publications (the Victorian internet <G>) for information and communication.
In my next post, I’ll describe how Sherlock Holmes uses a peculiar form of newspaper advertisement – the “agony column”—to find clues, clients, and culprits.