Some time after the attempt made upon Sir Richard Brandon's house, Giles
Scott was seated at his own fireside, helmet and truncheon laid aside,
uniform taken off, and a free and easy suit of plain clothes put on.
His pretty wife sat beside him darning a pair of very large socks. The
juvenile policeman, and the incorrigible criminal were sound asleep in
their respective cribs, the one under the print of the Queen, the other
under that of Sir Robert Peel. Giles was studying a small book of
instructions as to the duties of police-constables, and pretty Molly was
commenting on the same, for she possessed that charming quality of mind
and heart which induces the possessor to take a sympathetic and lively
interest in whatever may happen to be going on.
"They expect pretty hard work of you, Giles," remarked Molly with a
sigh, as she thought of the prolonged hours of absence from home, and
the frequent night duty.
"Why, Moll, you wouldn't have me wish for easy work at my time of life,
would you?" replied the policeman, looking up from his little book with
an amused smile. "Somebody must always be taking a heavy lift of the
hard work of this world, and if a big hulking fellow like me in the
prime o' life don't do it, who will?"
"True, Giles, but surely you won't deny me the small privilege of
wishing that you had a _little_ less to do, and a _little_ more time
with your family. You men,--especially you Scotchmen--are such an
argumentative set, that a poor woman can't open her lips to say a word,
but you pounce upon it and make an argument of it."
"Now Molly, there you go again, assuming my duties! Why do you take me
so sharp? Isn't taking-up the special privilege of the police?"
"Am I not entitled," said Molly, ignoring her husband's question, "to
express regret that your work should include coming home now and then
with scratched cheeks, and swelled noses, and black eyes?"
"Come now," returned Giles, "you must admit that I have fewer of these
discomforts than most men of the force, owing, no doubt, to little men
being unable to reach so high--and, d'you know, it's the little men who
do most damage in life; they're such a pugnacious and perverse
generation! As to swelled noses, these are the fortune of war, at least
of civil war like ours--and black eyes, why, my eyes are black by
nature. If they were of a heavenly blue like yours, Molly, you might
have some ground for complaint when they are blackened."
"And then there is such dreadful tear and wear of clothes," continued
Molly; "just look at that, now!" She held up to view a sock with a hole
in its heel large enough to let an orange through.
"Why, Molly, do you expect that I can walk the streets of London from
early morning till late at night, protect life and property, and
preserve public tranquillity, as this little book puts it, besides
engaging in numerous scuffles and street rows without making a hole or
two in my socks?"
"Ah! Giles, if you had only brain enough to take in a simple idea! it's
not the making of holes that I complain of. It is the making of such
awfully big ones before changing your socks! There now, don't let us
get on domestic matters. You have no head for these, but tell me
something about your little book. I am specially interested in it, you
see, because the small policeman in the crib over there puts endless
questions about his duties which I am quite unable to answer, and, you
know, it is a good thing for a child to grow up with the idea that
father and mother know everything."
"Just so, Molly. I hope you'll tell your little recruit that the first
and foremost duty of a good policeman is to obey orders. Let me see,
then, if I can enlighten you a bit."
"But tell me first, Giles--for I really want to know--how many are there
of you altogether, and when was the force established on its present
footing, and who began it, and, in short, all about it. It's _so_ nice
to have you for once in a way for a quiet chat like this."
"You have laid down enough of heads, Molly, to serve for the foundation
of a small volume. However, I'll give it you hot, since you wish it,
and I'll begin at the end instead of the beginning. What would you say,
now, to an army of eleven thousand men?"
"I would say it was a very large one, though I don't pretend to much
knowledge about the size of armies," said Molly, commencing to mend
another hole about the size of a turnip.
"Well, that, in round numbers, is the strength of the Metropolitan
Police force at the present time--and not a man too much, let me tell
you, for what with occasional illnesses and accidents, men employed on
special duty, and men off duty--as I am just now--the actual available
strength of the force at any moment is considerably below that number.
Yes, it is a goodly army of picked and stalwart men, (no self-praise
intended), but, then, consider what we have to do."
"We have to guard and keep in order the population of the biggest city
in the world; a population greater than that of the whole of Scotland."
"Oh! of course, you are sure to go to Scotland for your illustrations,
as if there was no such place as England in the world," quietly remarked
Molly, with a curl of her pretty lip.
"Ah! Molly, dear, you are unjust. It is true I go to Scotland for an
illustration, but didn't I come to England for a wife? Now, don't go
frowning at that hole as if it couldn't be bridged over."
"It is the worst hole you ever made," said the despairing wife, holding
it up to view.
"You make a worsted hole of it then, Moll, and it'll be all right.
Besides, you don't speak truth, for I once made a worse hole in your
heart."
"You never did, sir. Go on with your stupid illustrations," said Molly.
"Well, then, let me see--where was I?"
"In Scotland, of course!"
"Ah, yes. The population of all Scotland is under four millions, and
that of London--that is, of the area embraced in the Metropolitan Police
District, is estimated at above four million seven hundred thousand--in
round numbers. Of course I give it you all in round numbers."
"I don't mind how round the numbers are, Giles, so long as they're all
square," remarked the little wife with much simplicity.
"Well, just think of that number for our army to watch over; and that
population--not all of it, you know, but part of it--succeeds--in spite
of us in committing, during one year, no fewer than 25,000 `Principal'
offences such as murders, burglaries, robberies, thefts, and such-like.
What they would accomplish if we were not ever on the watch I leave you
to guess.
"Last year, for instance, 470 burglaries, as we style house-breaking by
night, were committed in London. The wonder is that there are not more,
when you consider the fact that the number of doors and windows found
open by us at night during the twelve months was nearly 26,000. The
total loss of property by theft during the year is estimated at about
100,000 pounds. Besides endeavouring to check crime of such magnitude,
we had to search after above 15,000 persons who were reported lost and
missing during the year, about 12,000 of whom were children."
"Oh! the _poor_ darlings," said Molly, twisting her sympathetic
eyebrows.
"Ay, and we found 7523 of these darlings," continued the practical
Giles, "and 720 of the adults. Of the rest some returned home or were
found by their friends, but 154 adults and 23 children have been lost
altogether. Then, we found within the twelve months 54 dead bodies
which we had to take care of and have photographed for identification.
During the same period, (and remember that the record of every twelve
months is much the same), we seized over 17,000 stray dogs and returned
them to their owners or sent them to the Dogs' Home. We arrested over
18,000 persons for being drunk and disorderly. We inspected all the
public vehicles and horses in London. We attended to 3527 accidents
which occurred in the streets, 127 of which were fatal. We looked after
more than 17,000 articles varying in value from 0 pence to 1500 pounds
which were lost by a heedless public during the year, about 10,000 of
which articles were restored to the owners. We had to regulate the
street traffic; inspect common lodging-houses; attend the police and
other courts to give evidence, and many other things which it would take
me much too long to enumerate, and puzzle your pretty little head to
take in."
"No, it wouldn't," said Molly, looking up with a bright expression; "I
have a wonderful head for figures--especially for handsome manly
figures! Go on, Giles."
"Then, look at what is expected of us," continued Number 666, not
noticing the last remark. "We are told to exercise the greatest
civility and affability towards every one--high and low, rich and poor.
We are expected to show the utmost forbearance under all circumstances;
to take as much abuse and as many blows as we can stand, without
inflicting any in return; to be capable of answering almost every
question that an ignorant--not to say arrogant--public may choose to put
to us; to be ready, single-handed and armed only with our truncheons and
the majesty of the law, to encounter burglars furnished with knives and
revolvers; to plunge into the midst of drunken maddened crowds and make
arrests in the teeth of tremendous odds; to keep an eye upon strangers
whose presence may seem to be less desirable than their absence; to
stand any amount of unjust and ungenerous criticism without a word of
reply; to submit quietly to the abhorrence and chaff of boys, labourers,
cabmen, omnibus drivers, tramps, and fast young men; to have a fair
knowledge of the `three Rs' and a smattering of law, so as to conduct
ourselves with propriety at fires, fairs, fights, and races, besides
acting wisely as to mad dogs, German bands, (which are apt to produce
mad _men_), organ-grinders, furious drivers, and all other nuisances.
In addition to all which we must be men of good character, good
standing--as to inches--good proportions, physically, and good sense.
In short, we are expected to be--and blamed if we are not--as near to a
state of perfection as it is possible for mortal man to attain on this
side the grave, and all for the modest sum which you are but too well
aware is the extent of our income."
"Is one of the things expected of you," asked Molly, "to have an
exceedingly high estimate of yourselves?"
"Nay, Molly, don't you join the ranks of those who are against us. It
will be more than criminal if you do. You are aware that I am giving
the opinion expressed by men of position who ought to know everything
about the force. That we fulfil the conditions required of us not so
badly is proved by the fact that last year, out of the whole 12,000
there were 215 officers and 1225 men who obtained rewards for zeal and
activity, while only one man was discharged, and four men were fined or
imprisoned. I speak not of number one--or, I should say Number 666.
For myself I am ready to admit that I am the most insignificant of the
force."
"O Giles! what a barefaced display of mock modesty!"
"Nay, Molly, I can prove it. Everything in this world goes by contrast,
doesn't it? then, is there a man in the whole force except myself, I
ask, whose wife is so bright and beautiful and good and sweet that she
reduces him to mere insignificance by contrast?"
"There's something in that, Giles," replied Molly with gravity, "but go
on with your lecture."
"I've nothing more to say about the force," returned Giles; "if I have
not said enough to convince you of our importance, and of the debt of
gratitude that you and the public of London owe to us, you are past
conviction, and--"
"You are wrong, Giles, as usual; I am never past conviction; you have
only to take me before the police court in the morning, and any
magistrate will at once convict me of stupidity for having married a
Scotchman and a policeman!"
"I think it must be time to go on my beat, for you beat me hollow," said
Number 666, consulting his watch.
"No, no, Giles, please sit still. It is not every day that I have such
a chance of a chat with you."
"Such a chance of pitching into me, you mean," returned Giles.
"However, before I go I would like to tell you just one or two facts
regarding this great London itself, which needs so much guarding and
such an army of guardians. You know that the Metropolitan District
comprises all the parishes any portion of which are within 15 miles of
Charing Cross--this area being 688 square miles. The rateable value of
it is over twenty-six million eight hundred thousand pounds sterling.
See, as you say you've a good head for _figures_, there's the sum on a
bit of paper for you--26,800,000 pounds. During last year 26,170 new
houses were built, forming 556 new streets and four new squares--the
whole covering a length of 86 miles. The total number of new houses
built during the last _ten_ years within this area has been 162,525,
extending over 500 miles of streets and squares!"
"Stay, I can't stand it!" cried Molly, dropping her sock and putting her
fingers in her ears.
"Why not, old girl?"
"Because it is too much for me; why, even _your_ figure is a mere
nothing to such sums!"
"Then," returned Giles, "you've only got to stick me on to the end of
them to make my information ten times more valuable."
"But are you quite sure that what you tell me is true, Giles?"
"Quite sure, my girl--at least as sure as I am of the veracity of
Colonel Henderson, who wrote the last Police Report."
At this point the chat was interrupted by the juvenile policeman in the
crib under Sir Robert Peel. Whether it was the astounding information
uttered in his sleepy presence, or the arduous nature of the duty
required of him in dreams, we cannot tell, but certain it is that when
Number 666 uttered the word "Report" there came a crash like the report
of a great gun, and Number 2 of the A Division, having fallen overboard,
was seen on the floor pommelling some imaginary criminal who stoutly
refused to be captured.
Giles ran forward to the assistance of Number 2, as was his duty, and
took him up in his arms. But Number 2 had awakened to the fact that he
had hurt himself, and, notwithstanding the blandishments of his father,
who swayed him about and put him on his broad shoulders, and raised his
curly head to the ceiling, he refused for a long time to be comforted.
At last he was subdued, and returned to the crib and the land of dreams.
"Now, Molly, I must really go," said Giles, putting on his uniform. "I
hope Number 2 won't disturb you again. Good-bye, lass, for a few
hours," he added, buckling his belt. "Here, look, do you see that
little spot on the ceiling?"
"Yes,--well?" said Molly, looking up.
Giles took unfair advantage of her, stooped, and kissed the pretty
little face, received a resounding slap on the back, and went out, to
attend to his professional duties, with the profound gravity of an
incapable magistrate.
There was a bright intelligent little street-Arab on the opposite side
of the way, who observed Giles with mingled feelings of admiration,
envy, and hatred, as he strode sedately along the street like an
imperturbable pillar. He knew Number 666 personally; had seen him under
many and varied circumstance, and had imagined him under many others--
not unfrequently as hanging by the neck from a lamp-post--but never,
even in the most daring flights of his juvenile fancy, had he seen him
as he has been seen by the reader in the bosom of his poor but happy
home.