Circulation: 300,000,000

After a 15-month buildup, with an exciting interlude last winter while a new hero was substituted, the biggest news story of 1937 (so far) last week finally reached its climax on Coronation Day in Westminster Abbey. The element of conflict, without which no news story is great, lay between the reverent, laborious effort of the British people to stage a tremendous spectacle and perform a solemn ritual without any hitch, harm or boggle, and the implacable forces of Chance, innocent or vicious, which might suddenly transform their great drama into farce or tragedy, as a little spark did last fortnight at Lakehurst, N. J.

The British people won, and their witnesses numbered not less than 300,000,000, easily the largest public ever served on a spot-news story by the combined forces of the world press.

Newspapers. Above and behind Queen Mother Mary, the young Princesses and the rest of the royal ladies, high in the Abbey's Triforium Gallery whose normal gloom was dispelled by bright new lights, seats were provided for some 300 eyewitness newshawks from all over the world. In their seats at 6:30 a. m. these writers scribbled furiously for eight hours. They dropped their copy in "takes" (installments) down a specially built chute to the Abbey's cellars. There 40 telegraphers tapped it out unceasingly. In newspaper offices all over the globe, editors and press crews stood by at all hours of their differently timed days, holding presses ready to receive the running story as it came in.

In London, the Conservative Times gave the story ten pages of pictures, nine of text; the Laborite Daily Herald ten pages of pictures, five of text. By wireless & cable alone, Associated Press sent 30,146 words that day, United Press 30,000 words. In Moscow, since the day followed a free day, or day of rest, only one newspaper was printed--Pravda. It carried an item of 150 words relating the Coronation, the great parade of troops and dignitaries and the presence in London of delegates from 55 countries. Suspicious Pravda concluded that they would naturally indulge in important diplomatic conversations. Only in Italian newsorgans did the story make no splash. Obedient to Mussolini's order to boycott Britain's party (TIME, May 17), this was the full text of Italy's official Stefani News Agency report: "The Coronation of King George VI took place this morning."

Cameras. In a specially-built box, twelve feet long, four feet wide, facing the thrones from a corner of the chancel, three still photographers and two movie cameramen were the eyes of the world. The still plates were handed out through a hole to a waiting messenger, sped in cars to the Central News Agency, headquarters for all services, to be flashed over the world by radio. In New York, the Abbey pictures were ready for reproduction within two hours, but were not very clear. Next evening Aviators Dick Merrill & Jack Lambie took off from Southport, Lancashire (see p. 23) with sets of Coronation prints, 46 in each. Among those waiting for them were TIME and LIFE who took one set with exclusive magazine rights (see p. 17). The New York Times and the Hearstpapers took other sets.

Newsreels. Immediately after the King's broadcast from Buckingham Palace, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Duke of Norfolk went to a private projection room in London's West End to view the 7,000 ft. of film made in the Abbey. A close-up of Queen Mary weeping they promptly cut out. News of this excision soon spread, and thousands of British cinemaddicts who flocked to the movies were bitterly disappointed to see how little of the Abbey ceremony had been left in. Audiences vented their spleen on the Archbishop by sniggering when he was shown examining the Crown as if to see that none of the stones had been stolen.

Radio. Like the newsreel cameras, 28 radio microphones were strung by British Broadcasting Corp. along the seven miles from the Palace to the Abbey and return. Into a central control room at Broadcasting House, through 472 miles of wire and twelve tons of equipment, poured a Babel of sounds--trumpets, cheers, tramping, coughs, prayers, commentaries--to be sifted and unified, put on the world's ether waves. In the Abbey alone were 30 microphones--one of them, supersensitive, was hung high in the vaulted roof over the chancel--to catch every syllable of the historic service. Radio officials later estimated that 83% of the world's potential radio audience listened in at all hours. In the U. S. alone, some 300 stations took up the waves from London for the longest transatlantic broadcast ever (7 hr.) and "the longest continuous program in radio history."

Television. At Hyde Park Corner, on the return route of the Procession, the most modern communication system of all was brought into play--Television. In its most ambitious experiment yet, B. B. C. trained three filmless scanning cameras connected with the central transmitting station by cable costing $5,000 per mile. An estimated audience of 50,000 televiewers in an area of 7,500 sq. mi. watched the screens of their little receiving sets (average cost: $400) as the Procession passed, the King & Queen bowed close up, the excited Princesses waved and giggled. By no means perfect, this visual report was acclaimed by all its subscribers as marvelously satisfying and the London Times proudly thundered: ''The supreme trial has brought a notable triumph."

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