EARLY POLICE (_continued_): ENGLAND.
Early Police in England--Edward I.'s Act--Elizabeth's Act for
Westminster--Acts of George II. and George III.--State of London
towards the end of the Eighteenth Century--Gambling and Lottery
Offices--Robberies on the River Thames--Receivers--Coiners--The
Fieldings as Magistrates--The Horse Patrol--Bow Street and its
Runners: Townsend, Vickery, and others--Blood Money--Tyburn
Tickets--Negotiations with Thieves to recover stolen
Property--Sayer--George Ruthven--Serjeant Ballantine on the Bow
Street Runners compared with modern Detectives.
If a century or more ago France and other Continental countries were
generally over-policed, England, as a free country, long refused to
surrender its liberties. Until quite recent years there was no organised
provision for public safety, for the maintenance of good order, the
prevention of crime, or the pursuit of law-breakers. Good citizens
co-operated in self-defence; the office of constable was incumbent upon
all, but evaded by many on payment of substitutes. One of the earliest
efforts to establish a systematic police was the statute 13th Edward I.
(1285), made for the maintenance of peace in the city of London. This
ancient statute was known as that of Watch and Ward, and it recognised
the above principle that the inhabitants of every district must combine
for their own protection. It recites how "many evils, as murders,
robberies, and manslaughters,
[Illustration: "ONE O'CLOCK AND A SHINY NIGHT!"]
have been committed by night and by day, and people have been beaten and
evilly entreated"; it is enjoined that "none be so hardy as to be found
going or wandering about the streets of the city with sword or buckler
after curfew tolled at St. Martin's Le Grand." It goes on to say that
any such should be taken by the keepers of the peace and be put in the
place of confinement appointed for such offenders, to be dealt with as
the custom is, and punished if the offence is proved. This Act further
prescribed that as such persons sought shelter "in taverns more than
elsewhere, lying in wait and watching their time to do mischief," no
tavern might be allowed to remain open "for sale of ale or wine" after
the tolling of curfew. Many smaller matters were dealt with so as to
ensure the peace of the city. It was enacted that, "forasmuch as fools
who delight in mischief do learn to fence with buckler," no school to
teach the art of fencing should be allowed within the city. Again, many
pains and penalties were imposed on foreigners who sought shelter and
refuge in England "by reason of banishment out of their own country, or
who, for great offence, have fled therefrom." Such persons were
forbidden to become innkeepers, "unless they have good report from the
parts whence they cometh, or find safe pledges." That these persons were
a source of trouble is pretty plain from the language of the Act, which
tells how "some nothing do but run up and down through the streets more
by night than by day, and are well attired in clothing and array, and
have their food of delicate meats and costly; neither do they use any
craft or merchandise, nor have they lands and tenements whereof to live,
nor any friend to find them; and through such persons many perils do
often happen in the city, and many evils, and some of them are found
openly offending, as in robberies, breaking of houses by night, murders,
and other evil deeds."
Another police Act, as it may be called, was that of 27th Elizabeth
(1585) for the good government of the city and borough of Westminster,
which had been recently enlarged. "The people thereof being greatly
increased, and being for the most part without trade or industry, and
many of them wholly given to vice and idleness," and a power to correct
them not being sufficient in law, the Dean of Westminster and the High
Steward were given greater authority. They were entitled to examine and
punish "all matters of incontinences, common scolds, and common
annoyances, and to commit to prison all who offended against the peace."
Certain ordinances were made by this Act for regulating the domestic
life of the city of Westminster; the bakers and the brewers, the
colliers, wood-mongers, and bargemen were put under strict rule; no
person was suffered to forestall or "regrate" the markets so as to
increase the price of victuals by buying them up beforehand; the cooks
and the tavern-keepers were kept separate: no man might sell ale and
keep a cookshop at the same time; the lighting of the city was imposed
upon the victuallers and tavern-keepers, who were ordered to keep one
convenient lanthorn at their street doors from six p.m. until nine a.m.
next morning, "except when the moon shall shine and give light." Rogues
and sturdy beggars were forbidden to wander in the streets under pain of
immediate arrest. Many other strict regulations were made for the health
and sanitation of the burgesses, such as the scavenging and cleansing
of the streets, the punishment of butchers, poulterers, and fishmongers
who might sell unwholesome food, the strict segregation of persons
infected with the plague. It is interesting to note that Sir William
Cecil, the great Lord Burleigh, was the first High Steward of
Westminster, and that the regulations above quoted were introduced by
him.
These Acts remained in force for many centuries, although the powers
entrusted to the High Steward fell into great disuse. But in the 10th
George II. (1737) the Elizabethan Act was re-enacted and its powers
enlarged. This was an Act for well-ordering and regulating a night watch
in the city--"a matter of very great importance for the preservation of
the persons and properties of the inhabitants, and very necessary to
prevent fires, murders, burglaries, robberies, and other outrages and
disorders." It had been found that all such precautions were utterly
neglected, and now the Common Council of the city was authorised to
create a night watch and levy rates to pay it. The instructions for this
night watch were issued through the constables of wards and precincts,
the old constitutional authority, who were expected to see them
observed. But the night-watchmen could act in the absence of the
constable when keeping watch and ward, and were enjoined to apprehend
all night-walkers, malefactors, rogues, vagabonds, and disorderly
persons whom they found disturbing the public peace, or whom they
suspected of evil designs.
Forty years later another Act was passed, 14th George III. (1777), which
again enlarged and, in a measure, superseded the last-mentioned Act. It
is much more detailed, prescribing the actual number of watchmen, their
wages, and how they are to be "armed and accommodated," which means that
they were to carry rattles and staves and lanterns; it details minutely
the watchman's duty: how he is to proclaim the time of the night or
morning "loudly and as audibly as he can"; he is to see that all doors
are safe and well secured; he is to prevent "to the utmost of his power
all murders, burglaries, robberies, and affraies; he is to apprehend all
loose, idle, and disorderly persons, and deliver them to the constable
or headborough of the night at the watch-houses." It may be stated at
once that this Act, however excellent in intention and carefully
designed, greatly failed in execution. The watchmen often proved
unworthy of their trust, and it is recorded by that eminent
[Illustration: A RESCUE; OR, THE TARS TRIUMPHANT," SHOWING PEACE
OFFICERS IN 1768.
(_After the Picture by R. Collett._)]
police magistrate, Mr. Colquhoun, "that no small portion of those very
men who are paid for protecting the public are not only instruments of
oppression in many instances, by extorting money most unwarrantably, but
are frequently accessories in aiding and abetting or concealing the
commission of crimes which it is their duty to detect and suppress." It
is but fair to add that Sir John Fielding, who was examined in 1772 as
to the numerous burglaries committed in the metropolis, stated that the
watch was insufficient, "that their duty was too hard and their pay too
small."
[Illustration: A HIGHWAY ROBBERY.]
Beyond question the state of the metropolis, and, indeed, of the country
at large, at the end of the eighteenth century was deplorable. Robbery
and theft from houses and on the highway had been reduced to a regular
system. Opportunities were sought, intelligence obtained, plans prepared
with the utmost skill and patience. Houses to be forced were previously
reconnoitred, and watched for days and weeks in advance. The modern
burglar could have taught the old depredator little that he did not
know. Again, the gentleman of the road--the bold highwayman--used
infinite pains in seeking out his prey. He had his spies in every
quarter, among all classes, and the earliest certain intelligence of
travellers worth stopping when carrying money and other valuables; he
could count upon the cordial support of publicans and ostlers, who
helped him in his attack and covered his retreat. The footpads who
infested the streets were quite as daring; it was unsafe to cross open
spaces, even in the heart of the town, after dark. These lesser thieves,
so adroit in picking pockets by day, used actual violence by night. The
country was continually ravaged by other depredators: horse and cattle
stealers, thieves who laid hands upon every kind of agricultural
produce. The farmers' fields were constantly plundered of their crops,
fruit and vegetables were carried off, even the ears of wheat were cut
from their stalks in the open day. It was estimated that one and a half
million bushels were annually stolen in this way. The thieves boldly
took their plunder to the millers to be ground, and the millers,
although aware that fields and barns had been recently robbed, did not
dare object, lest their mills should be burnt over their heads.
GAMBLING.
No doubt the general level of morality was low. Gambling of all kinds
had increased enormously. There were gaming-houses and lottery offices
everywhere. Faro banks and E. O. tables, and places where hazard,
roulette, and rouge-et-noir could be played, had multiplied exceedingly.
Six gaming-houses were kept in one street near the Haymarket, mostly by
prize-fighters, and persons stood at the doors inviting passers-by to
enter and play. Besides these, there were subscription clubs of
presumably a higher class, and even ladies' gaming-houses. The public
lotteries were also a fruitful source of crime, not only in the stimulus
they gave to speculation, but in their direct encouragement of fraud. A
special class of swindlers was created--the lottery insurers, the
sharpers who pretended to help the lottery players against loss by
insuring the amount of their stakes. Offices for fraudulent lottery
insurance existed all over the town. It was estimated that there were
400 of them, supporting 2,000 agents and clerks, and 7,500 "morocco
men," as they were called--the canvassers who went from door to door
soliciting insurances, which they entered in a book covered with red
morocco leather. It was said that these unlicensed offices obtained
premiums of nearly two millions of money when the English and Irish
lotteries were being drawn, on which they made a profit of from 15 to 25
per cent. It was proved by calculating the chances that they were some
33 per cent. in favour of the insurers. Even in those days the principle
of profiting by the gambling spirit of the public was strongly
condemned, but lotteries survived until 1826, since when the law has
dealt severely with any specious attempts to reintroduce them under
other names.
RIVER THIEVES.
At this time the plunder of merchandise and naval stores in the River
Thames had reached gigantic proportions. Previous to the establishment
of the Thames river police in 1798 the commerce of the country, all the
operations of merchants and shipowners, were grievously injured by these
wholesale depredations, which amounted at a moderate computation to
quite half a million per annum. There were, first of all, the river
pirates, who boarded unprotected ships in the stream. One gang of them
actually weighed a ship's anchor, hoisted it into their boat with a
complete new cable, and rowed away with their spoil. These villains hung
about vessels newly arrived and cut away anything within reach--cordage,
spars, bags of cargo. They generally went armed, and were prepared to
fight for what they seized. There were the "heavy horsemen and the light
horsemen," the "game watermen," the "game lightermen," the "mudlarks and
the scuffle-hunters," each of them following a particular line of their
own. Some of these, with the connivance of watchmen or without, would
cut lighters adrift and lead them to remote places where they could be
pillaged and their contents carried away. Cargoes of coal, Russian
tallow, hemp, and ashes were often secured in this way. The "light
horsemen" did a large business in the spillings, drainings, and
sweepings of sugar, coffee, and rum; these gleanings were greatly
increased by fraudulent devices, and were carried off with the
connivance of the mates, who shared in the profit. The "heavy horsemen"
were smuggled on board to steal whatever they could find--coffee, cocoa,
pimento, ginger, and so forth, which they carried on shore concealed
about their persons in pouches and pockets under their clothes. The
[Illustration: GAMBLING IN SOCIETY.
(_From a Print by Gillray, published in 1796._)]
"game watermen" worked by quickly receiving what was handed to them when
cargoes were being discharged, and this they conveyed at once to some
secret place; the "game lightermen" were of the same class, who used
their lighters to conceal stolen parcels of goods which they could
afterwards dispose of.
A clever trick is told of one of these thieves, who long did a big
business in purloining oil. A merchant who imported great quantities was
astonished at the constant deficiency in the amounts landed, far more
than could be explained by ordinary leakage. He determined to attend at
the wharf when the lighters arrived, and he saw that in one of them all
the casks had been stowed with their bungs downwards. He waited until
the lighter was unloaded, and then, visiting her, found the hold full of
oil. This the lightermen impudently claimed as their perquisite; but the
merchant refused to entertain the idea, and, having sent for casks,
filled nine of them with the leakage. Still dissatisfied, he ordered the
deck to be taken up, and found between the timbers of the lighter enough
to fill five casks more. No doubt this robbery had been long practised.
"Mudlarks" were only small fry who hung about the stern quarters of
ships at low water to receive and carry on shore any pickings they might
secure. The "scuffle-hunters" resorted in large numbers to the wharves
where goods were discharged, and laid hands upon any plunder they could
find, chiefly the contents of broken packets, for which they fought and
"scuffled."
Before leaving this branch of depredation mention must be made of the
plunder levied on his Majesty's Dockyards, the Naval Victualling and
Ordnance Stores, which were perpetually pillaged, as were the warships,
transports, and lighters in the Thames, Medway, Solent, and Dart. Over
and above the peculations of employees, the frauds and embezzlements in
surveys, certificates, and accounts, there was nearly wholesale pillage
in such articles as cordage, canvas, hinges, bolts, nails, timber,
paint, pitch, casks, beef, pork, biscuit, and indeed all kinds of
stores. No definite figures are at hand giving the value of these
robberies, but they must have reached an enormous total.
"FENCES."
The extensive robberies described above were, no doubt, greatly
facilitated by the many means that existed for the disposal of the
stolen goods. Never did the nefarious trade of the "receiver" flourish
so widely as then. This, the most mischievous class of criminal, without
whom the thief would find his calling hazardous and unproductive, was
extraordinarily numerous at this period. There were several thousands in
the Metropolis alone, a few of them no more than careless, asking no
questions about the property brought to them for purchase, but the bulk
of them distinctly criminal, who bought goods well knowing them to be
stolen. Many had been thieves themselves, but had found "receiving" a
less hazardous and more profitable trade; they followed ostensibly some
reputable calling--kept coalsheds, potato warehouses, and chandler's
shops--some were publicans, others dealt in secondhand furniture, old
clothes, old iron, and rags, or were workers and refiners of gold and
silver. These were the rank and file, the retailers, so to speak, who
passed on what was brought to them to the wholesale "receivers," of whom
at that time there were some fifty or sixty, opulent people many of
them, commanding plenty of capital. These high-class operators had their
crucibles and their furnaces always ready for melting down plate; they
had extensive connections beyond sea for the disposal of valuables,
especially of jewels, which were taken from their settings to prevent
recognition.
These great "fences"--the cant name for "receivers"--worked as large and
lucrative a business as do any of their successors to-day. A wide
connection was the first essential. Often enough the thieves arranged
with the "receivers" before they entered upon any new job, and thus the
latter kept touch with the operators, who gladly parted with their
plunder at easy prices, being unable to dispose of it alone. It was a
first principle with the "receiver" that the goods he purchased should
not be recognisable, and until all marks and means of identification
were removed he would not admit them into his house. He would not even
discuss terms until the thieves had taken this precaution. Various
methods were employed. In linen and cloth goods the head and fag-ends
were cut off, and occasionally the list and selvedge, if they were
peculiar. The marks on the soles of boots and shoes were obliterated by
hot irons, and the linings, if necessary, removed. Gold watches were
sent off to agents in large towns or on the Continent, their outward
appearance having first been changed; the works of one were placed in
the case of another. Where the proceeds of the robbery were banknotes,
or property whose identity could not be destroyed, they were sent off to
a distance to foreign marts, and all traces of them lost. It was
essential that the "receiver" on a large scale should have an army of
agents and co-partners--persons following the same nefarious traffic,
who could be trusted, for their own sakes, to be cautious in their
proceedings.
COINERS.
The general crime of this period was enormously increased by the
extensive fabrication of false money. Coining was extraordinarily
prevalent, and a wide, far-reaching system had been created for
distributing and uttering the counterfeits, not only at home but on the
Continent. All England, all Europe, was literally deluged with false
money, the largest proportion of which was manufactured in this country.
Not only was the current coinage of the realm admirably
counterfeited--guineas, half-guineas, crowns, half-crowns, shillings,
sixpences, and coppers, but the coiners could turn out all kinds of
foreign money--louis d'ors, Spanish dollars, sequins, pagodas, and the
rest, so cleverly imitated as almost to defy detection. So prosperous
was the business that as many as forty or fifty private mints were
constantly at work in London and various country towns fabricating false
money; as many as 120 workpeople were engaged, and the names of some 650
known coiners were registered at the Royal Mint. There was a steady
demand for the base coin; it went off so fast that the manufacturers
seldom had any stock on hand. As soon as it was finished it was sent
off, here, there, and everywhere, by every kind of conveyance. Not a
coach nor a carrier left London without a parcel of bad money consigned
to country agents. It was known that one agent alone had placed five
hundred pounds' worth with country buyers in a single week. Some idea of
the profits may be gathered from the fact that Indian pagodas, worth
8s., could be manufactured for 1-1/2d. apiece; and that the middleman
who bought them at 5s. a dozen retailed them at from 2s. 3d. to 5s.
each. The counterfeiting of gold coins was the least common, owing to
the expense of the process and the necessary admixture of at least a
portion of the precious metal. It was different with silver. It was
stated that two persons alone could manufacture between two and three
hundred pounds' worth (nominal value) of spurious silver in six days.
There were five kinds of base silver, known in the trade as flats,
plated goods, plain goods, castings, and "pig things." The first were
cut out of flattened plates of a material part silver, part copper; the
second were of copper only, silvered over; the third were of copper,
turned out of a lathe and polished; the fourth were of white metal, cast
in a mould; the "pig things" were the refuse of the rest converted into
sixpences. Copper coins were also manufactured largely out of base
metal.
[Illustration: IMITATION BANKNOTE ETCHED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK IN 1818,
SATIRISING THE INFLICTION OF CAPITAL PUNISHMENT FOR FORGERY.]
Frauds on the currency were not limited to counterfeiting the coinage.
Banknotes were systematically forged, although the penalty was death.
This crime had been greatly stimulated by the suspension of specie
payments and the issue of paper money. The Bank of England had been thus
saved at a great financial crisis, when its reserve in cash and bullion
had shrunk to little more than a million, and it had issued notes for
values of less than five pounds. Note forgery at once increased to a
serious extent, and as the Bank was implacable, insisting on rigorous
prosecution, great numbers of capital convictions followed. The most
minute and elaborate provisions existed, prescribing the heaviest
penalties not only for the actual manufacture and uttering, but for the
mere possession of banknote paper, plates, or engraving tools. The
infliction of the extreme sentence did not check the crime. Detection,
too, was most difficult. The public could not distinguish between true
and false notes. Bank officials were sometimes deceived, and clerks at
the counter were known to accept bad paper, yet refuse payment of what
was genuine. Some account will be given on a later page of Charles
Price, commonly called "Old Patch," from his favourite disguise of a
patch on one eye. He was a most extraordinarily successful forger of
banknotes, who did all but the negotiation of them himself: he made his
paper with the correct watermark, engraved his plates, and prepared his
own ink. He had several homes, many aliases, used many disguises, and
employed an army of agents and assistants, some of them his wives (for
he was a noted bigamist), to put off the notes.
[Illustration: HENRY FIELDING, NOVELIST AND MAGISTRATE.]
THE FIELDINGS.
An early and commendable attempt had been made in the middle of the
eighteenth century to grapple with this all-prevailing, all-consuming
crime. When Henry Fielding, the immortal novelist, was appointed a
Middlesex magistrate towards the close of his somewhat tempestuous
career, he strove hard to check disorders, waging unceasing warfare
against evil-doers and introducing a well-planned system of prevention
and pursuit. Although in failing
[Illustration: SIR JOHN FIELDING, THE BLIND BOW STREET MAGISTRATE.
(_From the Portrait by M. W. Peters, R.A._)]
health, he laboured incessantly. He often sat on the bench for sixteen
hours out of the twenty-four, returning to Bow Street after a long day's
work to resume it from seven p.m. till midnight. He did a great public
service in devising and executing a plan for the extirpation of robbers,
although the benefit was but temporary. This was in 1753, when the whole
town seemed at the mercy of the depredators. The Duke of Newcastle, at
that time Secretary of State, sent for Fielding, who unfolded a scheme
whereby, if £600 were placed at his disposal, he engaged to effect a
cure. After his first advance from the Treasury he was able to report
that "the whole gang of cut-throats was entirely dispersed, seven of
them were in actual custody, and the rest driven, some out of the town,
the rest out of the kingdom." He had nearly killed himself in the
effort. "Though my health was reduced to the last extremity ... I had
the satisfaction of finding ... that the hellish society was almost
entirely extirpated"; that, instead of "reading about murders and street
robberies in the newspapers every morning," they had altogether ceased.
His plan had not cost the Government more than £300, and "had actually
suppressed the evil for a time."
It was only for a brief space, however; and his brother, blind Sir John
Fielding, who succeeded him at Bow Street, frankly confessed that new
gangs had sprung up in place of those recently dispersed. But he bravely
set himself to combat the evil, and adopted his brother's methods. He
first grappled with the street robbers, and in less than three months
had brought nine of them to the gallows. Next he dealt with the
highwaymen infesting the road near London, "so that scarce one escaped."
The housebreakers, lead-stealers, shoplifters, and all the small fry of
pickpockets and petty larcenists were increasingly harried and in a
large measure suppressed. He organised a scheme for protecting the
suburbs, by which the residents subscribed to meet the expense of
transmitting immediate news to Bow Street by mounted messengers, with
full particulars of articles stolen, and the description of the robber;
the same messenger was to give information at the turnpikes and
public-houses _en route_, and thus a hue and cry could be raised and the
offender would probably soon be captured. At the same time a notice
would be inserted in the _Public Advertiser_ warning tavern-keepers,
stable-keepers, and pawnbrokers, the first against harbouring rogues,
the second against hiring out horses to the persons described, the third
against purchasing goods which were the proceeds of a robbery.
Sir John Fielding (he was knighted in 1760) was a most active and
energetic magistrate, and he was such a constant terror to evil-doers
that his life was often threatened. There were few crimes reported in
which he did not take a personal interest, promptly visiting the spot,
taking information, and setting his officers on the track. When Lord
Harrington's house was robbed of some three thousand pounds' worth of
jewellery, Sir John repaired thither
[Illustration: SIR JOHN FIELDING OFFICIATING AT BOW STREET.
(_From a Drawing by Dodd._)]
at once, remaining in the house all day and the greater part of the
night. It was the same in cases of highway robbery, murder, or riot.
Everyone caught red-handed was taken before him, and his court was much
frequented by great people to hear the examination of persons charged
with serious crimes--such as Dr. Dodd, Hackman, who murdered Miss Reay,
the brother-forgers the Perreaus, and Sarah Meteyard, who killed her
parish apprentice by abominable cruelty. One well-known nobleman, "a
great patron of the arts," given also to visiting Newgate in disguise in
order to stare at the convicts under sentence of death, would constantly
take his seat on the bench.
Sir John Fielding's appearance in court and manner of conducting
business have been graphically described by the Rev. Dr. Somerville of
Jedburgh. He speaks in his diary of Sir John's "singular adroitness. He
had a bandage over his eyes, and held a little switch or rod in his
hand, waving it before him as he descended from the bench. The sagacity
he discovered in the questions he put to the witnesses, and the marked
and successful attention, as I conceived, not only to the words but to
the accents and tones of the speaker, supplied the advantage which is
usually rendered by the eye; and his arrangement of the questions,
leading to the detection of concealed facts, impressed me with the
highest respect for his singular ability as a police magistrate."
Sir John Fielding was undoubtedly the originator of the horse patrol,
which was found a most useful check on highway robbery. But it was not
permanently established by him, and we find him beseeching the Secretary
of State to continue it for a short time longer "as a temporary but
necessary step in order to complete that which was being so happily
begun." He was satisfied from "the amazing good effects produced by this
patrol that outrages would in future be put down by a little further
assistance of the kind." This patrol was reintroduced by the chief
magistrate of Bow Street about 1805, either Sir Richard Ford or Sir
Nathaniel Conant. It was a very efficient force, recruited entirely from
old cavalry soldiers, who were dressed in uniform, well armed, and well
mounted. They wore a blue coat with brass buttons, a scarlet waistcoat,
blue trousers and boots, and they carried sword and pistols. Their
duties were to patrol the neighbourhood of London in a circuit of from
five to ten miles out, beginning at five or seven p.m. and ending at
midnight. It was their custom to call aloud to all horsemen and
carriages they met, "Bow Street patrol!" They arrested all known
offenders whom they might find, and promptly followed up the
perpetrators of any robbery that came under their notice. Very marked
and satisfactory
[Illustration: MARGARET NICHOLSON'S ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE GEORGE III.
IN 1786 (p. 238).
(_From the Painting by R. Smirke.)]_]
results were obtained by this excellent institution; it almost
completely ended highway robbery, and if any rare case occurred, the
guilty parties were soon apprehended.
THE BOW STREET RUNNERS.
Bow Street may be called the centre of our police establishment at that
time; it was served by various forces, and especially by eight officers,
the famous Bow Street runners of that period, the prototype of the
modern detective. They were familiarly known as the "robin redbreasts,"
from the scarlet waistcoat which was practically their badge of office,
although they also carried as a mark of authority a small bâton
surmounted by a gilt crown. The other police-offices of London were also
assisted by officers, but these were simply constables, and do not
appear to have been employed beyond their own districts. The Bow Street
runners, however, were at the disposal of the public if they could be
spared to undertake the pursuit of private crime. Three of them were
especially appropriated to the service of the Court. The attempt made by
Margaret Nicholson upon George III., and other outrages by mad people,
called for special police protection, and two or more of these officers
attended royalties wherever they went. They were generally MacManus,
Townsend, and Sayer, Townsend being the most celebrated of the three. He
has left a self-painted picture in contemporary records, and his
evidence, given before various police committees, shows him to have been
a garrulous, self-sufficient functionary. It was his custom to foist his
opinions freely on everyone, even on the king himself. He boasted that
George IV. imitated the cut of his hat, that the Dukes of Clarence and
of York presented him with wine from their cellars; he mixed himself up
with politics, and did not hesitate to advise the statesmen of the day
on such points as Catholic Emancipation and the Reformed Parliament. It
generally fell to his office to interrupt duels, and, according to his
own account, he stopped that between the Duke of York and Colonel
Lennox. His importance, according to his own idea, was shown in his
indignant refusal to apprehend a baker who had challenged a clerk; he
protested that "it would lessen him a good deal" after forty-six years'
service, during which period he had had the honour of taking earls,
marquises, and dukes.
No doubt these runners were often usefully employed in the pursuit of
criminals. Townsend himself when at a levée arrested the man who had
boldly cut off the Star of the Garter from a nobleman's breast. The
theft having been quickly discovered, word was passed to look out for
the thief. It reached Townsend, who shortly afterwards noticed a person
in Court dress who yet did not seem entitled to be there. Fearing to
make a mistake, he followed him a few yards, and then remembered his
face as that of an old thief. When taken into custody, the stolen star
was found in the man's pocket.
[Illustration: COLDBATH FIELDS PRISON IN 1814.
(_From a Drawing in the Crace Collection._)]
Vickery was another well-known runner, who did much good work in his
time. One of his best performances was that of saving the post-office
from a serious robbery. The officials would not believe in the existence
of the plot, but Vickery knew better, and produced the very keys that
were to pass the thieves through every door. He had learnt as a fact
that they had twice visited the premises, but still postponed the coup,
waiting until an especially large amount of plunder was collected.
Another case in which Vickery exhibited much acumen was the clever
robbery effected from Rundell and Bridges, the gold jewellers on Ludgate
Hill. Two Jews, having selected valuables to the amount of £35,000,
asked to be permitted to seal them up and leave them until they returned
with the money. In the act of packing they managed to substitute other
exactly similar parcels, and carried off the jewels in their pockets. As
they did not return, the cases were opened and the fraud discovered.
Vickery was called in, and soon traced the thieves to the Continent,
whither he followed them, accompanied by one of the firm, and tracked
them through France and Holland to Frankfort, where quite half of the
stolen property was recovered.
Vickery subsequently became jailer at Coldbath Fields Prison. One of the
prisoners committed to his custody was Fauntleroy the banker; and a
story has been handed down that this great forger all but escaped from
custody. A clever plot had been set on foot, but timely information
reached the authorities. On making a full search, a ladder of ropes and
other aids to breaking out of prison were laid bare. No blame seems to
have attached to Vickery in this, although some of his colleagues and
contemporaries were not always above suspicion. They were no doubt
subject to great temptations under the system of the time. It was the
custom to reward all who contributed to the conviction of offenders.
This blood-money, as it was called, was a sum of £40, distributed
amongst those who had secured the conviction. No doubt the practice
stimulated the police, but it was capable of great perversion; it gave
the prosecutor a keen interest in securing conviction, and was proved,
at times, to have led persons to seduce others into committing crime. It
is established beyond question that at the commencement of the
nineteenth century persons were brought up charged with offences to
which they had been tempted by the very officials who arrested them.
It must be admitted that the emoluments of the police officers were not
extraordinarily high; a guinea a week appears to have been the regular
pay, to which may be added the share of blood-money referred to above,
which, according to witnesses, seldom amounted to more than £20 or £30 a
year. Besides this, the officers had the privilege of selling Tyburn
tickets, as they were called, which were exemptions from serving as
constables or in other parish offices--an onerous duty from which people
were glad to buy exemption at the price of £12, £20, or even £25. Again,
a runner employed by other public departments or by private persons
might be, but was not always, handsomely rewarded if successful. He had,
of course, his out-of-pocket expenses and a guinea a day while actually
at work; but this might not last for more than a week or a fortnight,
and, according to old Townsend, people were apt to be mean in
recognising the services of the runners. These officers were also the
intermediaries at times between the thieves and their victims, and
constantly helped in the negotiations for restoring stolen property; it
could not be surprising that sometimes the money stuck to their fingers.
The loss incurred by bankers, not only through the interception of their
parcels, but by actual breakings into their banks, led to a practice
which was no less than compounding felony: the promise not to prosecute
on the restitution of a portion of the stolen property. It was shown
that the "Committee of Bankers," a society formed for mutual protection,
employed a solicitor, who kept up communication with the principal
"fences" and "family men." This useful functionary was well acquainted
with the thieves and their haunts, and when a banker's parcel--known in
cant language as a "child"--was stolen, the solicitor entered into
treaty with the thieves to buy back the money.
In this fashion a regular channel of communication came to be
established, offers were made on both sides, and terms were negotiated
which ended generally in substantial restitution. Many bankers objected
to the practice, and refused to sanction it. Still it prevailed, and
largely; and several specific cases were reported by the Select
Committee on the Police in 1828. Thus, two banks that had each been
robbed of notes to the amount of £4,000, recovered them on payment of
£1,000. In another case Spanish bonds, nominally worth £2,000, were
given back on payment of £1,000; in another, nearly £20,000 was restored
for £1,000; and where bills had been stolen that were not easily
negotiable, £6,000 out of £17,000 was offered for £300. Sometimes after
apprehension proceedings were stopped because a large amount of the
plunder had been given up. The system must have been pretty general,
since the committee stated that they knew of no less than sixteen banks
which had thus tried to indemnify themselves.
A strong suspicion was entertained that Sayer, a Bow Street runner
already mentioned, had feathered his nest finely with a portion of the
proceeds of the Paisley Bank robbery at Glasgow. He was an acquaintance
of the Mackoulls,[12] and it was he who proposed to the bank that
£20,000 should be restored on condition that all proceedings ceased.
When Sayer reached the bank with Mrs. Mackoull the notes produced
amounted to no more than £11,941. Whether Sayer had impounded any or not
was never positively known; but when he died, at an advanced age, he was
worth £30,000. And it has been said that shortly before his death he
pointed to the fireplace and a closet above it, using some incoherent
words. This was probably the receptacle of a number of notes, which were
afterwards found in the possession of one of his relatives, notes that
were recognised as part of the Paisley Bank plunder. He must either have
got them as hush-money or have wrongfully detained them, and then found
it too dangerous to pass them into circulation. Probably he desired to
have them destroyed, so that the story might not come out after his
death. The runners must have found it difficult to resist temptation.
The guilt of one of them--Vaughan--was clearly established in open
court, and he was convicted as an accessory in a burglary into which he
had led others; he was also proved to have given an unsuspicious sailor
several counterfeit coins to buy articles with at a chandler's shop.
When the sailor came out, Vaughan arrested him and charged him with
passing bad money. Vaughan absconded, but was afterwards discovered and
brought to trial.
Townsend tells of a case in his own glorification--and there is no
reason to deny him the credit--in which he arrested a notorious old
pickpocket, one Mrs. Usher, who had done a very profitable business for
many years. She was said to be worth at least £3,000 at the time of her
arrest, and when Townsend appeared against her he was asked in so many
words whether he would not withdraw from the prosecution. The Surrey
jailer, Ives by name, asked him, "Cannot this be 'stashed'?" Townsend
virtuously refused, and still would not yield, although Mrs. Usher's
relations offered him a bribe of £200. He also tells how he might have
got a considerable sum from Broughton, who had robbed the York mail, but
he steadfastly refused to abandon the prosecution. As much as a thousand
pounds had been offered to keep back a single witness.
These runners were often charged with being on much too intimate terms
with criminals. It was said that they frequented
[Illustration: SKETCH OF TOWNSEND of Bow Street.
(_Drawn by Richard Doyle._)]
low taverns and flash houses, and that thus thieves' haunts were
encouraged as a sort of preserve in which the police could, at any time,
lay hands on their game. The officers on their side declared that they
could do little or nothing without these houses--that, being so few in
number, it would be impossible for them to keep in touch with the great
mass of metropolitan criminality. Vickery spoke out boldly, and said
that the detection of offenders was greatly facilitated, for they knew
exactly where to look for the men they wanted. Townsend repudiated the
idea that the officer was contaminated by mixing with thieves. The flash
houses "can do the officer no harm if he does not make harm of it."
Unless he went there and acted foolishly or improperly, or got on too
familiar terms with the thieves, he was safe enough. But the houses were
undoubtedly an evil, and the excuse that they assisted in the
apprehension of offenders was no sufficient justification for them. To
this day, however, the free access to thieves' haunts is one of the most
valuable aids to detection, and the police-officer who does not follow
his prey into its own jungle will seldom make a large bag.
On the whole, it may be said that the old Bow Street runner was useful
in his generation, although he rarely effected very phenomenal arrests.
He was bold, fairly well informed, and reasonably faithful. Serjeant
Ballantine, who knew some of the latest survivors personally, had a high
opinion of them, and thought their methods generally superior to those
of the modern detective. We may not go quite that length--which, after
all, is mere assertion--but it seems certain, as I shall presently show,
that they were missed on the establishment of the "New Police," as the
existing magnificent force was long called. They mostly disappeared,
taking to other callings, or living out their declining years on
comparatively small pensions. George Ruthven, one of the last, died in
1844, and a contemporary record speaks of him as follows: "He was the
oldest and most celebrated of the few remaining Bow Street runners,
among whom death has lately made such ravages, and was considered as the
most efficient police officer that existed during his long career of
usefulness. He was for thirty years attached to the police force, having
entered it at the age of seventeen; but in 1839 he retired with a
pension of £220 from the British Government, and pensions likewise from
the Russian and Prussian Governments, for his services in discovering
forgeries to an immense extent connected with those
[Illustration: CAPTURE OF THE CATO STREET CONSPIRATORS.
(_From a Contemporary Print._)]
countries. Since 1839 he has been landlord of the 'One Tun Tavern,'
Chandos Street, Covent Garden, and has visited most frequently the spot
of his former associations.... He was a most eccentric character, and
had written a history of his life, but would on no account allow it to
meet the public eye. During the last three months no less than three of
the old Bow Street officers--namely, Goodson, Salmon, and Ruthven--have
paid the debt of nature."
Among the captures to be credited to Ruthven is that of the Cato Street
conspirators, in 1820. These desperadoes, headed by Arthur Thistlewood,
had formed a plot to murder Lord Castlereagh and the rest of the
Ministers at a dinner at Lord Harrowby's town house in Grosvenor Square.
They were arming themselves for the purpose in a stable in Cato Street,
near the Edgware Road, when Ruthven and other runners burst in. A fight
ensued, in which Smithers, one of the officers, was killed. Several of
the conspirators were taken, but Thistlewood contrived to escape, only,
however, to be arrested next morning. He and four others were hanged,
while five more were transported for life.
Serjeant Ballantine, as I have said, paid the Bow Street runners the
high compliment of preferring their methods to those of our modern
detectives. They kept their own counsel strictly, he thought,
withholding all information, and being especially careful to give the
criminal who was "wanted" no notion of the line of pursuit, of how and
where a trap was to be laid for him, or with what it would be baited.
They never let the public know all they knew, and worked out their
detection silently and secretly. The old Serjeant was never friendly to
the "New Police," and his criticisms were probably coloured by this
dislike. That it may be often unwise to blazon forth each and every step
taken in the course of an inquiry is obvious enough, and there are times
when the utmost reticence is indispensable. The modern detective is
surely alive to this; the complaint is more often that he is too chary
of news than that he is too garrulous and outspoken.