BOW STREET POLICE AND MAGISTERIAL REFORM
It was not until the middle of the century that any intelligence was
brought to bear on the problem of police, or that any promise appeared
of a better state of things in that department of government. For an
awakened interest and the resulting improvement we are mainly indebted
to the famous novelist, Henry Fielding, who spent the closing years of
his short life in a vigorous campaign against the growing domination
of society by the criminal classes. Appointed to the Westminster
bench at the age of forty-three, he exhibited in his new capacity an
acquaintance with law and a knowledge of human nature, that were but
rarely found in the ranks of the magistracy of the day: his charge
to the Grand Jury, delivered in 1749, reads more like the deliberate
composition of a justice of assize of large experience than the work of
a junior magistrate just appointed to the office.
In the hope of rousing the civil power from its somnolent state,
Fielding published a treatise called "An Enquiry into the Cause of the
late Increase of Robbers," in which he gave an interesting account
of the habits and customs of the people, with observations on the
poor law, and on the apprehension, trial, and execution of felons. He
attributed the prevalence of crime principally to the luxurious habits
indulged in by the populace, especially gambling and drunkenness. With
gin at a penny the quartern, and high play the absorbing passion of
all classes, it was small wonder that crime was on the increase. In
his attempts to improve the police, Fielding was ably seconded by his
half-brother Sir John Fielding, who succeeded him as magistrate at Bow
Street, and there inaugurated some valuable and far-reaching reforms.
By the employment of regularly-paid detectives he did more to render
the streets of London safe than the whole body of watchmen, beadles and
constables, to the number of about two thousand, had previously been
able to effect, and soon afterwards obtained permission to establish,
by way of experiment, a small police force organised on novel lines.
This force, called the Bow Street Foot Patrol, was divided into
eighteen parties, thirteen of which (called Country parties) patrolled
the principal highways outside the metropolis, whilst the remaining
five (known as Town parties) watched the streets of the central
district. The remuneration of the patrols was high in comparison
with the wages then customary, no patrolman receiving less than two
shillings and sixpence a night. The system proved a great success,
and a few years later its sphere of usefulness was enlarged by the
formation of a horse patrol, which was posted for the protection of
travellers on one or other of the main roads leading into the country.
Though consisting only of eight men, who, however, were well mounted
and well armed, it afforded a better state of security to the suburbs
than they had previously enjoyed.[148]
The success that attended Sir John Fielding's innovations was prompt
and abiding. Bow Street quickly became pre-eminent as the only court
where justice was dispensed in a business-like manner, and its
officers, under the name of Bow Street Runners, became famous for their
skill and sagacity. Sir John Fielding was blind, but his infirmity did
not prevent him from constantly attending to his magisterial work. When
seated in court he used to wear a white silk bandage over his eyes,
and the striking figure of the tall blindfolded knight was a dramatic
picture long remembered at Bow Street. His knowledge of everything
that concerned the criminal classes was remarkable. It was said of him
that he never failed to recognise an old offender, though the only
indication he had to go by was the sound of the prisoner's voice. He
was the author of several pamphlets on police questions, the most
important being that published in 1755 under the title of "A plan for
preventing robberies within twenty miles of London"; the details of
which may be briefly stated as follows:
He suggested that the landowners and occupiers of high-class
residential property near London should combine to form societies
for the apprehension of burglars and other depredators. Each society
was to select a treasurer to collect an annual subscription of two
guineas a-piece from the members. When a robbery was committed, the
injured party was to immediately despatch a mounted messenger to the
magistrate at Bow Street, warning on his way all the turnpike keepers,
advising them as to the property stolen, and of any other particulars
of importance. The magistrate was then to be empowered to draw on the
funds of the society in the hands of the treasurer, for any expenses
that might be incurred in the course of the pursuit and subsequent
prosecution of the criminal.
This pamphlet was followed by a second called "An account of the origin
and effects of a Police, set on foot in 1753 by the Duke of Newcastle,
on a plan suggested by the late Henry Fielding."[149]
The publications of the brothers Fielding were to some extent
instrumental in directing the public conscience towards a consideration
of the state of the criminal law, which, year by year, had tended to
increase in severity, without thereby effecting any diminution in the
tale of offenders. "Extreme justice is an extreme injury," wrote Sir
Thomas More, but abstract ideas of justice were little entertained
in the days of the Georges; Tyburn and transportation were the only
recognised remedies for the more serious breaches of the law, and men
were slow to realise that it is better to make the commission of crime
difficult than to punish it with indiscriminate severity. But from this
time onwards arose a genuine wish for some change, a desire to repress
crime as humanely as possible; a half-formed idea found partial
expression that perhaps, after all, the pain suffered by the culprit
ought not to exceed the benefit conferred on the community by the
punishment exacted; henceforward the Statute Book was not disgraced by
fresh barbarities, and in course of years the old ones were gradually
eliminated. In 1783 the procession to Tyburn was discontinued, and
the use of the drop to accelerate death by hanging, introduced; the
pillory was abolished in 1816 for all offences except perjury; whipping
in public was done away with the following year, and transportation
finally ceased in 1867.
Instead of legislating on the lines suggested by Fielding, whose
scheme of police was proving practical and successful, the government
preferred to revert to the methods of Queen Elizabeth,[150] and in 1755
was responsible for an Act[151] that was nothing but an attempt to
revivify the Westminster Statute of 1584, the only new feature being
the appointment of a committee called "The Jury of Annoyances," a body
designed to see that the pavements were kept in repair, and to prevent
obstructions and encroachments thereon; this addition, it was supposed,
brought the Act up to modern requirements. The number of constables to
be yearly appointed for the City and Liberty of Westminster was fixed
at eighty, furnished proportionally by the different parishes; any man
who had already served, personally or by deputy, was not to be again
chosen until seven years had elapsed since he last held office.
Two years later another Act,[152] to explain and amend the foregoing,
followed, by which a regular chain of responsibility was created; the
petty constable had to obey the High Constable; and he, again, had to
observe the lawful commands of the Dean or High Steward, who still
remained the paramount police authority in the district.
In 1772, the House of Commons appointed a Committee to inquire into
the burglaries that had recently become so frequent in London and
Westminster, one hundred and four houses having been broken into
between Michaelmas 1769 and March 1770. This committee was the first
of a long series authorised by Parliament with the idea of improving
the police; every few years a new committee was appointed, and each
in turn recorded a wearisome tale of resolutions without finding a
remedy or indeed arriving at any satisfactory solution. One and all
reported that the existing watch was deficient, a fact long patent to
everybody without the assistance of select committee-men; they deplored
the want of uniformity and co-operation in wards and parishes, and
recorded the shortcomings of beadles, constables, and watchmen; but
whilst suggesting various minor reforms, they failed to see that no
real progress was possible until a clean sweep had been made of the old
system and its abuses.
The principal witnesses examined before this first committee were Sir
John Fielding of Bow Street and Mr F. Rainsforth, the High Constable
of Westminster; the former spoke as to the position of the magistracy
and the state of the liquor traffic; the latter confined his remarks
to the inefficiency of the peace-officers. The following extracts from
Mr Rainsforth's diary for the 23rd of March 1770, which he read to the
committee, shew us the kind of thing that used to go on.
"Saint Margaret's--Three quarters past eleven: constable came after I
was there: Houseman and Beadle on duty: 41 watchmen, with St John's
United, at 8-1/2d. per night, with one guinea at Christmas, and one
guinea at Lady Day, and great coats as a present: their beats large:
was obliged to take a soldier into custody for being out of his
quarters, and very insolent, with several more soldiers in the street
at 12 o'clock: called out 'Watch,' but could get no assistance from
them.
"St Clements' Danes--Past 3: no constable on duty: found a watchman
there at a great distance from his beat: from thence went to the
night-cellar facing Arundel Street in the Strand, which is in the
Duchy, and there found 4 of St Clements' watchmen drinking. St
Mary-le-Strand no attendance, having only two constables, which only
attend every other night, 3 watchmen, Duchy included, at one shilling
each. A very disorderly cellar near the new church for selling saloop,
etc., to very loose and suspected persons: St Clements' watchmen 32 at
one shilling."
After hearing much evidence of this description, the committee passed
thirteen resolutions, none of which, however, were of a very vigorous
character. They recommended an increase in the number of watchmen,
higher pay and a better method of appointing them; they suggested that
the name "beadle" should no longer be used, that ballad-singers should
be suppressed, and that steps should be taken to put a stop to the
custom of granting wine and spirit licences indiscriminately to all who
applied for them, adding by way of a conclusion to the whole matter,
that the Roundhouses, as the constables' lockups were called, should
not be used for the sale of intoxicants, and should be large enough to
accommodate the prisoners arrested by the watch; it having frequently
been found necessary to release disturbers of the peace and other minor
offenders to make room for more serious cases!
In consequence of the report of the Parliamentary Committee, a bill
was introduced into the House of Commons to provide an improved watch
system for the "City of Westminster and parts adjacent ... uniformly
ordered and regulated throughout the whole district." This Act,[153]
passed in 1773, directs that trustees shall meet annually to appoint
"what number of watchmen they shall judge necessary to be kept
and employed" for the ensuing year, specifying how many are to be
apportioned to "beats" and "stands" respectively, and how many are to
be told off for patrols. The local authorities are not, however, given
a free hand in the administration of the interior economy of their
trust: the minimum establishment that must be kept up by each parish is
fixed by law, and varies from sixty watchmen on the beats and stands,
and eight on patrol for St George's Hanover Square, down to the single
watchman required for the "purlieus of the Savoy." Watch-houses must
be substantially built, and watchmen are to be armed with staff and
rattle, provided at parish expense, as well as with lanterns paid for
out of their own pockets; the minimum wage must not fall below one
shilling and threepence per night unless a man is employed by the year,
in which case his nightly remuneration need not exceed one shilling:
the hours are from 10 P.M. until 5, 6, or 7 A.M. according to the
season of the year.
The duties of the watch comprise the apprehending of disorderly and
suspected persons and handing them over to the constable; testing the
fastenings of houses, shops and warehouses, and warning the occupier
when necessary; twice every hour the watchmen must patrol his beat,
and "as loudly and audibly as he can, proclaim the time of the night
or morning." On coming off duty, the watchman has to submit his staff,
rattle and lantern for the inspection of the constable; neglect of
duty entails a fine of ten shillings, and any person who assaults a
watchman in the execution of his office renders himself liable to a £5
penalty; watchmen are forbidden to frequent alehouses during their tour
of duty, and provision is made for the punishment of those publicans
who harbour them.
There is much that is good in this Act, but it applied only to
Westminster, and half of its provisions were never carried out. Instead
of the uniform order that was to be established, the old confusion
continued, the fine of five pounds was insufficient to protect the
watchmen from assault, and the peace officers still tippled in
alehouses, whilst thieves were comfortably carrying home the booty they
had so easily secured.
The utter inadequacy of the whole system of defence against civil
tumults, and the complete helplessness of London to protect itself
against mob violence, was brought home to its inhabitants in a
startlingly convincing manner in the course of those six terrible days
during which their city was within an ace of being destroyed at the
hands of the rabble let loose upon her streets by the crackbrained
fanatic, Lord George Gordon.
The events that took place in the first week of June 1780, and which
are to some extent familiar to us through the pages of "Barnaby Rudge,"
would never have happened if, in the earlier stages of the outbreak,
the rioters had had opposed to them even a couple of hundred resolute
constables, accustomed to deal with mobs, and working under the
direction of officers experienced in the tactics of street-fighting.
At no time is an efficient civil force of such inestimable value as it
is at the first appearance of great popular ferment; for in accordance
with the strength or weakness of the police at that moment, is the
course of after events decided. A crowd is like a great volume of
water, harmless as long as its embankments are kept in repair and, if
necessary, strengthened, but capable of an infinite amount of mischief
if once allowed to break its barriers.
Anything like a full description of the Gordon riots lies outside the
scope of this book; but a brief account of the principal features
of the outbreak will very properly find a place here, in order to
illustrate the degree of violence that an English mob is capable of,
when allowed to get out of hand, and for the purpose of comparing these
riots with others that took place on subsequent occasions after our
modern police had been established. London is the mother-city of the
English-speaking races, all of which have modelled their police forces
on the metropolitan pattern; and the Gordon riots, which were the most
violent ever experienced in this country, have therefore served as a
lesson to cities as distant from us and from each other as Sydney and
New York, forewarning those responsible for the maintenance of the
peace in those places of the extent of the danger that threatens when
proper precautions are neglected.
The disturbances in question arose out of an agitation directed
against the Roman Catholics, whose position had been much improved
by a recent Act of Parliament, the agitation culminating in a demand
for the repeal of the unpopular concessions. A monster petition was
prepared, and it was decided to present it to Parliament, with such a
display of force that a refusal would be unlikely. Accordingly, at 10
o'clock on the morning of the 2nd of June, as many as 60,000 people
assembled in St George's Fields to accompany Lord George Gordon in
his attempt to intimidate the legislature. Marching to Westminster by
different routes, the crowd closed all the avenues to both Houses,
stopped peers and commoners on their way thither, and treated those
who fell into their hands with insult and personal violence, smashing
their carriages, tearing their clothes and in some cases removing their
wigs; many members of Parliament were forced to put blue cockades in
their hats and shout "No Popery" before they were released, others
only regained their freedom on promising to vote for the repeal of the
obnoxious act.
Whilst these proceedings were taking place, a squadron of horse
arrived; but on being hooted and threatened, the troopers declared that
their sympathies were altogether with the people, and then trotted off
amidst the cheers of the crowd, who soon afterwards began to disperse,
to riot in other parts of the town. That evening the Roman Catholic
chapels attached to the Sardinian and Bavarian embassies were looted
and burned.
Rioting continued during the three days that followed, the paralysed
executive submitting in helpless impotence, and it was not until the
fifth day that the climax was reached. The mob now suddenly broke out
into an almost inconceivable state of fury, and overran the whole of
London, pillaging and burning as they went, and spreading terror in
every direction: all business was suspended and most of the houses were
barricaded; many persons, hoping to pacify the destroying furies, hung
blue flags out of their windows and chalked the words "No Popery" on
their shutters. An organized attack was made on Newgate, and when the
old prison walls successfully withstood all the efforts of the mob to
injure them, the furniture from the governor's house was thrown out
of the windows and piled up for a bonfire, with the idea of consuming
the great wooden gates; when these at length gave way, the rabble
poured into the gaol through the smoking gateway, shortly to return
bringing with them three hundred liberated prisoners, many of whom
were under sentence of death already, and over-ripe for any atrocity.
Matters now grew worse than ever, distilleries were broken open, and
the raw spirits poured down the gutters to be lapped up by a crowd
that was already mad. An attempt to break into the Bank of England was
prevented by the guard stationed there, but many houses, including Lord
Mansfield's and Sir John Fielding's, were burnt to the ground, and all
books and documents destroyed.
When thirty-six incendiary fires were raging simultaneously, and when
the King's Bench and Fleet prisons had shared the fate of Newgate, the
troops and militia, who were employed with vigour only at the eleventh
hour, began to get the upper hand of the rioters, and then only by dint
of firing volleys into the mass. Gradually through the next two days
some semblance of order was restored, and by the third morning the
riots were at an end. The official return handed in to the Secretary
of State showed that 210 people had been killed by the troops and
248 wounded, several of whom subsequently died; but the bill was not
complete: the public hangman claimed 21 more victims, and a much larger
number were transported for life. The Lord Mayor of London was tried
for his faulty arrangements and for his alleged supineness, but was let
off with a fine of a thousand pounds. Lord George Gordon's insanity
saved him from the consequences of his misdeeds.
These fatal riots should have taught the lesson that soldiers are
ill-suited to the task of putting down civil tumult, and that their
use entails an unnecessary amount of bloodshed, especially when their
action is so long delayed that an increased severity becomes necessary.
Unfortunately the lesson, if learnt, was not taken to heart: at any
rate no adequate remedy was proposed at the time. On one point only
was any light immediately thrown. Hitherto some doubt had existed as
to the legality of employing the military to put down riots, but on
this occasion the King sought the advice of the Attorney-General,[154]
who gave it as his opinion, that, as soldiers were also citizens, they
could constitutionally be used to prevent felony, even without the Riot
Act being read. It was well that this point was cleared up, because
circumstances will occasionally arise when troops must be sent for as
a last resource; but it is remarkable that, after the failure of the
soldier to keep the peace had just been demonstrated in so signal a
manner, no one should have supplied the obvious rider, and suggested
the substitution of a more satisfactory agent. Half a century slipped
by before the necessary change began in England; but on the principle
of applying the remedy to any limb except the diseased one, Dublin
was quickly provided with what London lacked, and in 1786 was passed
the "Dublin Police[155] Act,"[156] under which three Commissioners
were appointed, and given the command of a paid and well-organised
constabulary. In the course of the following year the whole of Ireland
came under the protection of the new guardians of the peace, who,
developing as time went on, eventually reached that state of efficiency
that is now invariably associated with the name of the Royal Irish
Constabulary.
The magistrates of the period set the worst possible example to their
subordinate officers, and there were but few of them who did not
deserve the name of "Trading Justices," that was so commonly applied.
Those who did not actually accept bribes were usually ready to make a
little extra money by the improper and wholesale bailing, not only of
offenders who ought to have been kept in confinement, but of innocent
persons also, who ought to have been immediately and unconditionally
set at liberty. The system was to issue warrants against helpless
people for imaginary crimes, and then to let them out on bail, the
magistrate netting the sum of two shillings and fourpence every time
he repeated the trick. James Townsend, a Bow Street runner, who gave
evidence on this subject before a parliamentary commission in 1816,
explained how lucrative this practice used to be, "and taking up a
hundred girls, that would make at two shillings and fourpence, £11,
13s. 4d. They sent none to gaol, for the bailing them was so much
better."
There is much to be said for the plan of employing country gentlemen
to administer justice, without stipend, in the neighbourhood of their
own estates; but in London, where all the criminal talent of the three
kingdoms was collected, and where the duties of magistrates became
both difficult and onerous in consequence, only inferior men could be
induced to undertake the office, and then only for the sake of the
patronage they could control, and for the perquisites they were able
to pick up. They were distinguished neither for social position, nor
for legal knowledge, and readily succumbed to every temptation that
offered. As long as the magistracy was corrupt, Acts of Parliament
were powerless to purify the police: the duty of the Government was
plain if not easy; the Commission of the Peace for Middlesex had to
be immediately purged of the Trading Justices, and a scheme had to be
introduced under which capable and upright men would be secured to
take their place: the hands of the new magistrates, when appointed,
had to be strengthened and sufficiently enlarged to enable them to
grapple with the problem of keeping order in London, a city which
besides being the most populous in Europe, had the reputation of being
the most difficult to manage, its inhabitants quickly resenting any
action of the executive that threatened to interfere, in the smallest
particular, with their liberties or their customs. At the same time it
was necessary to devise a check upon the magistrates, powerful enough
to prevent a recurrence of the old abuses.
The Middlesex Justices Bill, which was laid before the House of
Commons in March 1792, was an attempt to satisfy the above-mentioned
conditions, and was framed on the model of the stipendiary
establishment already existing at Bow Street, where satisfactory
results had been obtained. It was proposed to create five new police
offices (shortly afterwards increased to seven), and to appoint three
Justices to each, at a remuneration of £300 a year apiece. This salary
was only to be paid on the explicit understanding that they were
neither directly nor indirectly to apply to their own benefit any of
the fees received by them, from whatever source arising, all such
fees to be devoted in future to reducing the expenses of the office.
The courts were to be open daily for the transaction of business, one
magistrate always to be in attendance, empowered to dispose summarily
of the cases brought before him without the assistance of a jury.
Provision was also made for the appointment of six constables to each
office, at a wage not exceeding twelve shillings a week, invested
with authority to apprehend any person suspected of malpractices who
was unable to give a satisfactory account of himself. Finally, the
constables were to be under the control of the magistrates, and the
magistrates were to be answerable to the Secretary of State, in whom
was to be vested the power of dismissal, as well as that of appointment.
When introduced, the Bill was severely criticised, Fox and Sheridan,
who were two of its strongest opponents, both declaring that the
principle of a magistrate punishing without the intervention of a
jury was barbarous and unconstitutional, and that the proposal to set
up constables with increased powers was an unwarrantable attempt to
oppress the poor, already ground down under the heels of the rich. It
was advanced that the influence exerted by the Ministry of the day over
the magistracy was already excessive, and that the real object of the
bill was to still further increase this influence, by adding the power
of conferring salaries to that of making appointments.
The framers of the Bill, whilst denying the truth of these statements,
and confident of the ultimate triumph of the principles they advocated,
were willing that the measure should at first become law for a
limited period only, and were content that Parliament should have the
opportunity of amending, or even annulling its provisions, if on trial
they should prove unsatisfactory.
The Middlesex Justices Act first came into operation, therefore, as
an experiment. The seven public offices were established in different
parts of the Metropolis at convenient distances from each other, the
twenty-one Justices were appointed, and the forty-two constables were
sworn in, an insignificant force indeed with which to contend against
the whole criminal array of London, but of great historical interest as
a development of the Bow Street system, the two together forming the
first regularly organized and paid force ever established in England.
The acknowledgement of the desirability of employing stipendiary
magistrates in crowded centres was no less important, and gradually
led up to the system that is found so valuable to-day, not only at the
metropolitan police courts, but also in those great towns where the
principle has, in recent years, been adopted.
The reform of the magistracy that was taken in hand in 1792 was not
so thorough as it might have been, and the opportunity that then
offered of removing once and for all every unworthy taint from the
administration of justice in the metropolis was only partly taken
advantage of.
The Middlesex Justices Bill was conceived in too parsimonious a spirit,
and the right sort of men did not come forward to fill the important
posts of police justices, many of the new magistrates, in fact, being
recruited from the ranks of the old discredited class, which it was
one of the principal objects of the Bill to displace. Neither the
justices nor the constables received a salary large enough to make them
independent of improper sources of income, the latter being openly
permitted to engage in various lucrative transactions that had nothing
to do with their office. It is said that constables attached to the
public offices would not infrequently fill the role of counsel for the
prisoner, as well as holding a brief for the prosecution.
The small force called into being by the Act of 1792, and which,
including the Bow Street officers, amounted to about fifty men, was
designed only against individual criminals; the idea of preventing or
repressing riots by means of a civil police force was hardly considered
to fall within the range of practical politics. At the moment when the
success of the revolutionary leaders had achieved the overthrow of
the French Monarchy, and had culminated in the execution of Louis the
Sixteenth, established authority all the world over was in danger of
subversion. The violent utterances of certain Radical Societies shewed
that there were many in England who violently sympathised with the
Revolution, and the riots that took place in many of our towns proved
that the excesses which had turned the streets of Paris into shambles,
were finding an echo amongst the discontented and disorderly on this
side of the Channel.
Considering the urgency of the matter, the attitude assumed by the
Government then in office seems altogether incomprehensible. The
political horizon was assuredly dark enough to warn the most heedless;
and the signal manner in which the military had failed to keep order
during the Gordon Riots conclusively demonstrated how unreliable was
that arm for the purposes of peace maintenance. Yet the only steps
taken by the responsible authorities were to embody the Militia,
and to pass an ill-considered measure called "The Alien Act,"[157]
which required that all foreigners resident in England (unless duly
naturalized), should provide themselves with passports, or forthwith
leave the country.
That we survived the crisis without having to face a similar
conflagration was hardly due to the foresight of our rulers, who,
though well aware that our preventive appliances were rusty and
out-of-date, neglected to replace them by others, or even to modernize
them.