Act 50 0 0

12. Persons returning from

transportation 20 0 0

13. Embezzling the King's Stores 20 0 0

14. Apprehending deserters from the

Army 1 0 0

15. Apprehending rogues and vagabonds 0 10 0

16. Apprehending idle and disorderly

persons 0 5 0

A Tyburn Ticket was a certificate granted by a judge or Justice to the

person who captured and prosecuted a felon to conviction; it freed

the holder from all liability to serve as a Constable, and exempted

him also from many other Ward and Parish obligations. The Ticket was

transferable, and so had a pecuniary value which varied in different

parishes, generally ten pounds or more. A Tyburn Ticket had been known

to fetch as much as forty pounds.

The law being powerless to prevent crime, and the police being unable

to give protection, people exerted themselves to safeguard their own

interests in their own way; shopkeepers combined to provide patrols

to watch the fronts of their shops, householders armed themselves for

the defence of their houses, whilst steel man-traps and spring-guns

were set up in gardens and coverts. In consequence of the number of

innocent persons maimed and killed by these not very discriminating

agencies, Lord Suffield, in 1825, introduced a Bill with the object of

making their use illegal, but it was not until May 1827 that an Act was

passed, prohibiting the setting of spring-guns, man-traps, and other

engines calculated to destroy human life, or inflict grievous bodily

harm.[171]

It is not too much to say, that a survey of all the institutions of

England, as they existed at the beginning of the nineteenth century,

would reveal the fact, that whereas many departments of government were

feeble and many corrupt, in no department were ignorance, corruption,

and inefficiency so pronounced as in that of police. If, however, any

should wish to find a rival institution to share this unenviable

position of discredit, he would not have far to look, but could

discover the object of his search in the disgraceful mismanagement

that pervaded every corner of our gaols, from prison-gate to condemned

cell. If the criminal, whilst at large, could count on a minimum of

interference with his career of depredation, he had at the same time

to reckon with a maximum of ill-treatment if ever he was deprived of

his liberty. It almost seemed as if the authorities, piqued at their

ill-success in the departments of prevention and detection, were

determined to wreak their vengeance on the unfortunate few who fell

into their hands. Neglect was the keynote in every part of the penal

administration, the public suffered through the neglect that failed to

provide a modicum of protection, and the prisoners suffered through

the neglect of the governors and warders to provide them with the

necessaries and decencies of life.

A description of the extortions, inhumanities, and crimes against the

most elementary laws of sanitation, that were rife in prison-houses

and convict establishments, would here be out of place. A full account

is to be found in the interesting volumes in the pages of which, Major

Arthur Griffiths has exhaustively dealt with the subject; but to shew

with what reckless disregard for consequences prisoners were treated,

and how little attention was paid to the reclamation of juvenile

offenders, it is sufficient to mention the fact that in Newgate, a

felon, who had been sentenced to transportation, was retained in

England, to act as a schoolmaster to the boy prisoners. Under the

unreformed prison system, gaols were little better than universities of

crime, that conferred the diploma of "habitual" on the criminals who

graduated there, and it was said that half the burglaries that were

committed in London were planned in Newgate.

CHAPTER XI

PIONEER REFORMERS

Just when the immediate outlook was the most gloomy, and at an hour

when the future seemed most barren of any hopeful sign, unseen and

unsuspected influences were already at work; influences which were

destined first to arrest, and eventually to repel, the increasing flood

of criminality, as well as to alleviate the hard lot of the unhappy

convict. Up to this point the annual total of crime had ever been

mounting higher and higher whilst the tale of abuses had continued to

increase. But the malady had now come to a head, and intelligent public

attention was at length focussed on a difficult and unpopular subject,

which hitherto had been deliberately avoided by all but the very few

who had been familiarized with its magnitude by routine, and who had

mostly grown callous to its evils by use. When John Howard began to

minister to prisoners, and when Jeremy Bentham began to propound his

doctrine of utilitarianism, no one foresaw that the devotion of the one

would achieve a transformation of the whole prison system, nor that the

profound common-sense of the other would triumph over the irrationality

which for centuries had vitiated the penal administration of England.

Foremost amongst the many objects for which Bentham worked were the

amendment of the criminal code, the improvement of the Poor Laws, the

abolition of transportation, sanitary and prison reform, systematic

registration, and the instituting of public prosecutors, in short

better police all round and in the widest sense of the term. Though

most of Bentham's best work was done in the eighteenth, his doctrines

received but little attention in this country before the nineteenth

century, and the practical reforms which he advocated, though for

the most part inaugurated in his own lifetime, were the immediate

achievements of his disciples and friends. His own special hobbies were

not altogether successful, the panopticon idea did not repay him for

the labour and the money which he lavished upon it, and his philosophy

did not prove the complete panacea for human ills that he anticipated;

but through the medium of his friend Romilly he slew the Draconian

monster, and he pointed out the path which Colquhoun followed and which

ultimately led to the genesis of modern police.

The pamphlets of the two Fieldings, and the exertions of other minor

reformers who succeeded them, had no doubt done something to stir up

public opinion and to pave the way for a better system, but their

combined influence was only effectual up to a certain point, and the

virtue of the remedies they proposed was not sufficiently potent to

get to the root of the all-pervading mischief. The credit of being the

first to perceive the true functions of a rational police force, as

it should be, belongs to Bentham,[172] and the credit of formulating

the details and presenting them in a tangible and practical shape to

his contemporaries is due to Dr Colquhoun, who, in 1796, published his

famous treatise "On the Police of the Metropolis."

If we think of Colquhoun as the architect who designed our modern

police, and of Peel as the builder who constructed its framework, we

must remember that there were others who had a hand in the good work,

and that a long time elapsed between the drawing of the plans and the

erection of the edifice. If it is allowable to carry the simile a stage

further, we may say that the Government pigeon-holed the draughtsman's

plans for many years before the order was given for the foundation

stone to be laid. This delay must not be attributed to indifference,

but rather to necessity. It is, perhaps, a truism to say so, but in

order to carry any valuable reform to a successful issue, thought must

precede action. Law is the public opinion of yesterday put in force

to-day, and as Professor Dicey has somewhere pointed out, legislation

has almost always been the outcome of the opinion of thirty years

before. No better example of the truth of this general formula could

be instanced than the case of the police reforms of the nineteenth

century: Bentham, Colquhoun, Romilly and others did the necessary

thinking and sowed the seed in the public conscience; a period of

thirty years elapsed whilst the seed was coming to maturity; meanwhile

Peel and the Duke of Wellington watched the gradual ripening of public

opinion and provided the necessary legislation as soon as the people

were ready for it.

Colquhoun, who, like Fielding, was a Middlesex magistrate, saw that

the essential need was method. He recognized that before any material

improvement could be looked for, or any real security obtained, the

miserable jumble of wards, parishes, hundreds and boroughs, each

with its private establishment of watchmen and constables, who were

debarred from acting one yard outside their own boundaries, would

have to be swept away, and a centralized agency substituted under the

superintendence of "able, indefatigable and intelligent men."

The criminal classes, at this time, had an organization far superior

to any that Society could oppose to it; in fact, if a committee

of pickpockets and burglars had been entrusted with the task of

creating and arranging a system of police, they could hardly have

devised any scheme under which they would have secured to themselves

greater freedom from molestation. Colquhoun pointed out how all this

might be changed: he would have a register prepared of all the known

offenders, containing a complete history of their connexions and

haunts, together with a list of all property stolen; he would establish

such a correspondence between the town and country magistrates that

the movements of suspected persons might be effectually watched,

and finally would "interpose those embarrassments which a vigilant

and active police may place in the way of every class of offenders,

so as to diminish crimes by increasing the risk of detection." He

also collected a mass of evidence bearing on the causes that were

responsible for the prevalence of crime, and proposed that a scientific

campaign against the enemies of Society should be inaugurated, under

the direction of experts, who should be free to devote the whole of

their time and energies to the task. His proposition, in fact, amounted

to the creation, if possible, of a centralized police, related to

the general government through the Home Office, and officered both

in the superior and subordinate grades, by men specially trained for

the purpose. It was on these lines, of course, that Peel set to work

twenty years later, but there is little doubt that he would have failed

to carry his measure, in the face of the opposition which it aroused,

if men's minds had not been to some extent prepared beforehand by the

convincing arguments brought forward in "The Police of the Metropolis."

It must not be imagined that the period immediately preceding the

formation of the new police was a time of expectant idleness, or that

nothing was being done beyond the publication of treatises. Experiment

and legislation were both at work; Parliamentary Committees, which

sat in the years 1812, 1826, 1818, 1822 and 1828, to investigate the

subject of police, collected a mass of evidence, much of which was

useful; and the Select Committee on Vagrancy, appointed in 1821,

performed a necessary and valuable task. Distinct progress was also

made towards the correction of prison abuses and in the direction of

the reform of the penal code, whilst several statutes which were out of

sympathy with the new standard of humanity were very properly repealed.

The pillory was virtually abolished in 1816, public flogging of women

was made illegal in 1817,[173] that anomalous institution "benefit

of clergy" disappeared in 1826, and the death penalty could not be

inflicted on persons convicted of forgery after 1830. Of new enactments

belonging to this period, the most important was the "Alehouse Act"

of 1828,[174] which reduced to one statute all the licensing laws

passed in former years, and which to this day remains the foundation

of our present system. Broadly speaking the object of the Act was

decentralization, and its effect to place the whole licensing

jurisdiction in the hands of the Justices of the Peace in their several

districts.[175] The laws relating to remedies against the Hundred

were amended and consolidated in 1826,[176] and shortly afterwards

regulations affecting the jurisdiction of Courts of Quarter Sessions

came into force.[177]

Colquhoun's activity did not stop short at the production of his

first book, a work which roused the Government from its lethargy,

and which even awakened the interest of the King, he issued a police

gazette containing a full description of all known offenders, which

circulated in all parts of the kingdom, and was the means of bringing

many miscreants to justice; he strongly endorsed Bentham's suggestion

that a public prosecutor should be appointed, in order that private

persons should be relieved of the odium and expense of coming forward

to prosecute offenders, who might enjoy a measure of popularity, or

whose conviction might be desirable on public grounds, even if no

individual had suffered specific injury; and in the year 1798 he

was induced to turn his attention to the question of river-police.

The rich cargoes of West India merchantmen lying in the Thames had

long offered temptations, and the absence of police gave frequent

opportunities which London thieves could not resist. Robberies were of

daily occurrence, and the value of the property annually stolen from

ships and wharves has been computed at half a million sterling.[178]

Under these circumstances, the principal ship-owners, despairing of

ever obtaining protection from Government in return for the heavy

taxes they paid, applied to Colquhoun to help them to defend their

goods. He assented, and produced a work called "A Treatise on the

Commerce and Police of the River Thames," which was soon followed by

the establishment by Government[179] of an efficient water-police, with

headquarters at Wapping, and composed, for the most part, of sailors

who had served their time in his Majesty's Navy.

In 1821 the Home Secretary, Lord Sidmouth, who had given much attention

to police questions, determined if possible to put an end to the

discreditable state of the London streets, where of recent years

robberies had increased to an alarming extent. With this object in

view, he decided to confine the services of the Bow Street patrols

to the Metropolis, and gave orders that, in future, the wide circuit

they had previously guarded was to be reduced, and their energies

concentrated within the circumference of the central region. Dividing

this limited area into sixteen districts, he attached to each a party

of four men under a Conductor, and retained at Bow Street a reserve of

one Conductor and fourteen men at the disposal of the Inspector there,

for use in any sudden emergency. The suburbs and outlying districts

were momentarily left unprotected by this withdrawal of the Bow Street

Officers; so to repair this defect, the Horse Patrol, which in 1805

had been reorganized by Sir Richard Ford, was further improved and its

numbers increased. The force was now divided into two branches, the

mounted and dismounted, each of which was again split up into four

divisions: the strength of the establishment was fixed at 161 of all

ranks, apportioned as follows--

Mounted--2 Inspectors, 4 deputy inspectors, 54 patrols.

Dismounted--4 Inspectors, 8 sub-inspectors, 89 patrols.

As was formerly the case, the horse patrol consisted of ex-cavalry

men, and they were dressed and accoutred in the following manner--

Blue double-breasted coat with gilt buttons, scarlet waistcoat,

leather stock, white leather gloves, black leather hat, Wellington

boots and steel spurs, whilst each man, when on duty, was furnished

with a pistol, sabre, truncheon and pair of handcuffs.

Only married men were employed, and cottages were provided for them at

convenient spots close to the roads they had to patrol, their wives

were forbidden to keep pigs or poultry, a wise prohibition designed to

secure to the government-horses their full allowance of forage.

The mounted and dismounted patrols worked in connection with each

other; the latter were responsible for the immediate neighbourhood of

London to a distance of five miles from its centre, and the former

looked after the remoter districts included in a circle with an average

radius of twenty miles; their principal routes were--to Enfield by

Hampstead and Highgate in the North, to Epsom by Croydon and Richmond

in the South, to Windsor by Uxbridge in the West, and Eastwards to

Romford on the left bank of the Thames, and towards Maidstone on the

right bank. Their orders were to proceed along the specified road

at such a pace as would bring them to the end of their beat at the

appointed time--halt ten minutes and then return meeting the other

patrolmen half-way; when passing travellers they were ordered to make

themselves known by calling out in an audible tone "Bow Street Patrol";

and on arriving at the home-end of their beat they were timed to

meet the dismounted patrol, and had to communicate to them any news

of importance. Every patrol, when on duty, was expected to be fully

equipped, with his pistol loaded, and his sword-belt outside his coat;

if his horse should go lame he had to dismount, and on foot patrol

half his usual distance; in the event of a robbery or other breach of

the peace coming to his notice, his duty was to join his companion,

if possible, and that of the two together to pursue and endeavour to

apprehend the offender or offenders, summoning outside assistance if

necessary. If they effected a capture their prisoner was to be safely

secured till morning, when they had to bring him to Bow Street.

The orders issued to the dismounted patrol, _mutatis mutandis_, were

practically identical with those already detailed: the men were warned

never to go out on their rounds without truncheon, cutlass and warrant;

and they had to meet the mounted patrol at the extremity of their beat,

or report the circumstances under which they failed to carry out their

instructions.

The Bow Street patrols were efficacious to a certain extent. Their

presence gave confidence to travellers, and highway robberies on the

main roads were put a stop to; but they were of little use against

burglars, and altogether failed to suppress the footpads who took to

the lanes and by-ways when the high-roads were protected, nor could the

removal of stolen property be prevented as long as the patrolmen were

only kept on duty for half the night. The small force at the disposal

of the Chief Magistrate at Bow Street, for the purpose of safe-guarding

the outlying districts, had to patrol such a large area, and their

movements were in consequence so regular, that it was easy for thieves

to calculate the hour at which the peace officer was due at any given

point, and equally easy to avoid him by concealment in a cross-road or

behind a hedge until he had passed: a thief named Wilson long avoided

capture in this manner, and when he eventually fell into the hands of

the police, it was discovered that he had in his possession a regular

time-table on which was marked at what o'clock the patrols might be

expected at various points on all the main roads.

Twelve months after Lord Sidmouth's improvements had been initiated, a

further advance was made, this time at the instance of Robert Peel, by

the establishment of a Day-Patrol to supplement the Bow Street force.

The new police body was very small, and only of an experimental nature;

but it served the purpose of its institution, and the success achieved

by the three Inspectors and twenty-four men who composed this little

force was a strong argument for a subsequent extension on similar lines.

These reforms, following close upon each other, showed that at last

Government was disposed to make a sustained effort to put the police

on a better footing, and to give effect to the recommendations of the

Parliamentary Committees, which it had summoned year after year, but

whose advice it had hitherto as regularly neglected.

CHAPTER XII

"THE NEW POLICE"

The depth of lawlessness under which London lay submerged, and the

deplorable condition of the feeble bulwarks that the richest city in

the world had so long been content to rely on, have been considered

at some length, because it is only by contrasting the security of

recent years with the lawless confusion previously existing, that an

intelligent appreciation of the debt we owe to Sir Robert Peel is made

clear.

The evidence given before the various Parliamentary Committees reveals

to us an impartial contemporary view of things as they then were, and

it requires but little acumen to see for ourselves how well we are

served by our police to-day. The improvement that has taken place

has been something more than a well-defined instance of the general

amelioration in our institutions, which was the feature of the

nineteenth century: the year 1830 saw an almost instantaneous change

in the police of London, a transformation from an inconceivably rotten

and antiquated system into one which immediately became an example to

the world, and one which still remains a credit to our civilization.

Simultaneously with the police revival there suddenly dawned an

unwonted era of security out of the dark and dangerous shadows of

the past: that this was due to Peel's Act, and to no other cause, is

conclusively proved by the fact that the rural parts of England, to

which the Act did not apply, had no share in the improvement which was

at once manifest in the metropolis. The sharp contrast between the

state of London under the old _régime_ and its condition under the new

administration is well illustrated by a comparison of two critical

articles taken from the leading reviews of the day. A year before the

introduction of Peel's bill the _Quarterly Review_ said--"There can be

no doubt that the whole of the existing watch system of London and its

vicinity ought to be mercilessly struck to the ground. No human being

has the smallest confidence in it.... Their existence is a nuisance and

a curse"; and some years afterwards, when people had begun to realise

how indispensable their police had become, the _Edinburgh Review_

refers to the Metropolitan force in these words: "The arrangements

are so good, the security so general, and the complex machinery works

so quietly, that the real danger which must always exist where the

wealth and luxury of a nation are brought into juxtaposition with its

poverty and crime, is too much forgotten: and the people begin to think

it quite a matter of course, or one of the operations of providence,

that they sleep and wake in safety in the midst of hordes of starving

plunderers."

The change was the more sudden because it had been so long deferred.

When the transition stage was over there could be no sustained conflict

between the new champions of order and the old allies of disorder,

because the latter had been allowed to hold the boards until their

charlatanism and worthlessness were thoroughly exposed. People might,

and actually did, say that the new system was bad and would lead to

all kinds of disaster, but no one was bold enough to assert that the

old system was good. Population had increased enormously, people

were richer, more civilized and more humane than they had ever been

before, and yet they put up with the same old apology for police that

their grandfathers had been dissatisfied with and ashamed of. In

some respects it is fortunate for us that this was so; for when the

inevitable change was brought about, we got a better article than we

should have done if an earlier model had been adopted, or if the abuses

had not been allowed to flourish until they had become sufficiently

glaring to demand radical measures for their removal.

Of the many Parliamentary Commissions, which since the year 1770 had

investigated the police problem, the only one which did its work

in a satisfactory manner was that convened on Peel's initiative in

1828. This Commission went into the question very thoroughly, and

came to the conclusion that "it was absolutely necessary to devise

some means to give greater security to persons and property." As soon

as the Commissioners' report was issued, Peel decided to act upon

it immediately, and on the 15th April 1829, introduced his bill in

the House of Commons. After briefly reviewing the prevailing state

of insecurity, and commenting upon the notoriously defective police

arrangements in vogue, he declared that no longer must petty parochial

jealousies be allowed to outweigh higher and more extended principles.

He then unfolded to the House his general plan. Recognizing the

impossibility of simultaneously providing the entire metropolis with

trained policemen, he proposed, in the first instance, to start on a

modest scale, hoping that by the gradual absorption of parishes, the

central agency would become exercised in the management and control

of the police, until in course of time it should be competent to take

charge of the whole constabulary of London:[180] the first experiment

would begin with Westminster; Kensington and Hammersmith would come

next; and eventually every parish, any part of which was within fifteen

miles of Charing Cross, would be taken over.

Most recent attempts to reform the police had been entered into under

the influence of panic, and when some patched-up defence could be

extemporised against the danger that threatened, those responsible for

the public quiet had been content. Peel's aims were more comprehensive:

he set himself to design a framework sufficiently rigid to withstand

the stress of the moment, and elastic enough to admit of expansion

along the lines of future development.

A nice judgment was required to determine how far the old materials

could be made available for the reconstruction, to decide how much

to retain and how much to discard. Certain sound and well-proved

principles, admirably suited to the national temper, underlay the

structure which he was bent on modernizing, and these, he saw, could

not be dispensed with. No mania for novelty blinded him to the value of

much of the groundwork of the old system; and his reforms, therefore,

were in the best sense conservative, for whilst there was no break in

the continuity of whatever was good, neither was there any deliberate

retention of anything that was bad. It is largely due to Peel's

moderation that, the more one studies the anatomy of modern English

police, the more one discovers birthmarks of its Anglo-Saxon parentage.

Two months after its introduction, Peel's measure became law. The

famous Act of Parliament[181] creating the Metropolitan Police

Force was entitled "An Act for improving the Police in and near

the Metropolis." The preamble declared that, it having been found

expedient to substitute a more efficient system of police for the local

establishments of nightly watch and nightly police which had proved

inadequate for the prevention and detection of crime, a new office of

police was to be constituted, under the immediate authority of the Home

Secretary. The Act is a long one, but its main provisions are simple

and concise. His Majesty appoints two Justices of the Peace to conduct

the business of the Police Office, and to frame regulations for the

management of the force, subject to the approval of the Secretary of

State. The financial department is placed under an official called

the Receiver, and the Police Rate (which must not exceed eightpence

in the pound) is to be collected by Overseers like the Poor Rate. The

existing watch shall continue to discharge its duties in the various

parishes until notification is made that the new police is appointed,

and then all watch-boxes, arms, etc., shall be handed over, and the

present watch rates shall cease. The limits of the "metropolitan police

district" are defined to comprise Westminster, and such parishes in

Middlesex, Surrey, and Kent, as are enumerated in the Schedule of the

Act. The Metropolitan police district is partitioned off into various

"divisions" according to counties, those of Middlesex being as follows,

Westminster, Holborn, Finsbury, Tower, Kensington, Brentford, and a

division comprising certain extra-parochial places such as Grays Inn,

Furnivals Inn and Ely Place. A short supplementary Act[182] relieves

the chief magistrate at Bow Street of the direction of the Horse and

Foot Patrols, and places them under the new police office.

This Office, as created by the Act of Parliament, the chief provisions

of which are above detailed, was situated in Westminster and was called

Scotland Yard. It differed from the older Offices in many respects, for

whilst it was given no judicial functions to perform, it was charged

with the duty of supervising the police machinery of the metropolis.

It thus became a centre from which to amalgamate the heterogeneous

elements that went to make up London's police, and from which to

administer the reclaimed territory in an ever-widening circle, until

the whole metropolitan area, amounting to nearly seven hundred square

miles, was freed from the trammels of Bumbledom, and brought under the

control of a bureau directed by "able, indefatigable, and intelligent

men."

The intimate connection that had always existed between Justice of the

Peace and constable was not severed at the birth of the metropolitan

force, and the first officers of the new establishment, appointed under

the provisions of the Act, were two Justices. Colonel Rowan, a soldier

of distinction who had already gained some experience with the Royal

Irish Constabulary, and Richard Mayne, an eminent lawyer, were the men

selected. The task could not have fallen into better hands, and to

the energy and tact displayed by the first Commissioners[183] must be

attributed, in great measure, the success achieved by the new force

from its inception. In the course of an appreciative report, dealing

with the results obtained by the New Police, a Parliamentary Committee,

which sat in 1833 and 1834, paid a high compliment to these gentlemen.

"Much, in the opinion of your committee, is due to the judgment

and discrimination which was exercised in the selection of the

individuals, Colonel Rowan and Mr Mayne, who were originally appointed,

and still continue to fill the arduous office of Commissioners of

police. On many critical occasions and in very difficult circumstances,

the sound discretion they have exercised, the straightforward, open

and honourable course they have pursued--whenever their conduct has

been questioned by the public--calls for the strongest expression of

approbation on the part of your committee."

The task in front of the Commissioners was far from being an easy

one: they had to raise a new force, but more important still was the

business of restoring to the discredited office of Constable some of

its native dignity and prestige. To this end it was necessary to get

rid, as quickly as they dared, of all the unworthy ministers whose

shortcomings had emboldened the lawbreakers and whose backslidings

had disheartened the law-abiding; in so doing they had to incur the

odium of causing the wholesale dismissal of public servants, who,

worthless as they were, had no other trade to fall back upon. Nor was

this the end of their difficulties. They had to organize and train a

very considerable army of recruits, they had to drill this force and

educate it to discharge duties requiring tact and forbearance, they

were assisted by no expert opinion, and had little previous experience

to guide them. The novelty of the problem increased the difficulty of

its solution. They had to encounter a popular prejudice that was almost

unanimously opposed to them, and although a false step might have

produced the most disastrous consequences, no delay was allowed them

for consideration or experiment.

Having undertaken the task, however, they were not the men to turn

back, and in an incredibly short space of time they had the whole

machine in working order; the metropolitan area was mapped out into

police divisions, the divisions divided into sections, and sections

subdivided into beats: the various grades of Superintendent, Inspector,

Sergeant, and Constable were created, and to each grade was assigned

its proper duties. By June 1830, the Metropolitan Police consisted of

17 Superintendents, 68 Inspectors, 323 Sergeants, and 2,906 Constables,

or 3,314 of all ranks, distributed in the following manner:

Return of Metropolitan Police, 1st June 1830.

Key:

Col A: Letter.

Col B: Name of Division.

Col C: Superintendents.

Col D: Inspectors.

Col E: Sergeants.

Col F: Constables.

Col G: Total.

Col H: Estimated Population.

+---+---------------+----+----+-----+------+------+-----------+

| A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H |

+---+---------------+----+----+-----+------+------+-----------+

| A | Whitehall | 1 | 2 | 14 | 96 | 113 | 5,893 |

| B | Westminster | 1 | 4 | 18 | 145 | 168 | 51,618 |

| C | St James | 1 | 4 | 16 | 167 | 188 | 94,418 |

| D | Marylebone | 1 | 4 | 18 | 147 | 170 | 85,040 |

| E | Holborn | 1 | 4 | 16 | 147 | 168 | 73,208 |

| F | Covent Garden | 1 | 4 | 16 | 145 | 166 | 61,618 |

| G | Finsbury | 1 | 4 | 20 | 210 | 235 | 102,561 |

| H | Whitechapel | 1 | 4 | 18 | 168 | 191 | 111,382 |

| K | Stepney | 1 | 6 | 28 | 262 | 297 | 113,516 |

| L | Lambeth | 1 | 4 | 18 | 168 | 191 | 45,646 |

| M | Southwark | 1 | 4 | 16 | 168 | 189 | 78,169 |

| N | Islington | 1 | 4 | 24 | 222 | 251 | 74,455 |

| P | Camberwell | 1 | 4 | 19 | 195 | 219 | 64,967 |

| R | Greenwich | 1 | 4 | 20 | 182 | 207 | 72,540 |

| S | Hampstead | 1 | 4 | 22 | 190 | 217 | 70,260 |

| T | Kensington | 1 | 4 | 20 | 148 | 173 | 49,668 |

| V | Wandsworth | 1 | 4 | 20 | 146 | 171 | 57,532 |

| +---------------+----+----+-----+------+------+-----------+

| | Totals | 17 | 68 | 323 | 2906 | 3314 | 1,212,491 |

+---+---------------+----+----+-----+------+------+-----------+

This table shows at a glance how rapidly the parochial police was giving

ground before the advancing battalions from Scotland Yard. In less than

twelve months, in place of the five districts originally taken over,

we find practically the whole of London and its suburbs policed by the

new constabulary. The skeleton of this force's organization is also

indicated in the above table, the details only require to be filled

in. The Metropolitan Police District, it will be seen, was divided

into seventeen Police Divisions, each designated by an appropriate

local name, and by a letter of the alphabet. These Divisions were

then divided into Sub-divisions, Sections, and Beats. There were

eight Sections in a Division, and eight Beats in a Section. In every

Division a Police-Station was provided, in as central and convenient

position as possible, where the business of the Division was conducted

on a plan approved by Scotland Yard, and common to all alike. The

Constabulary force was organized in police companies, one company to a

Division, under the command and direct supervision of its officer, the

Superintendent. Furthermore, each company was split up into sixteen

parties, each party consisting of one Sergeant and nine men, four

Sergeants' parties being equal to one Inspectors' party. To put it in

tabular form--

Constables in charge of Beats, wages 19s. a week.

Sergeants " Sections, " 22s. 6d. a week.

Inspectors " Sub-divisions, £100 per ann.

Superintendents " Divisions, £200 per ann.

Nine men, it will be observed, were apportioned to only eight beats;

the sixteen odd men, _i.e._, one from each party, constituted a

Divisional Reserve. Every Constable and Sergeant was distinguished by

an embroidered number and the letter of his Division, in order that he

might readily be identified; the earlier numbers (from 1 to 16) denoted

Sergeants, the higher numbers Constables. Each Constable was provided

with a Beat-Card, giving the names of the Streets, etc., in his Beat.

At first the twenty-four hours were divided into two day reliefs and

two night reliefs, half of the entire force being on duty by day and

half by night. This arrangement was not a success, and was subsequently

altered, when the day duty was performed in two reliefs and the night

duty in one relief: under this system two-thirds of the force were

employed by night, one-third by day, individual men doing eight months'

night work and four months' day work during the year. By this means a

greater degree of security was attained when it was chiefly required,

and the health of the men suffered less than under the former plan.

Such in outline was the organization of the Metropolitan Police;

absolute and arbitrary uniformity, however, was not insisted upon, but

when necessary the system was modified to suit local requirements;

thus, there were not exactly 144 Constables in each Company, but the

number varied from 262 in the Stepney (K) Division down to 96 in the

Whitehall (A) Division. The first mentioned of these two Divisions was

densely populated, whilst the other contained but few people, and the

Whitehall Company, therefore, which was mainly composed of picked men,

was generally available should any sudden emergency arise in other

quarters of the town.

Prominent amongst the earlier constitutional functions conferred upon

the English constabulary for the prevention of crime were those of

Presentment and Inquiry. We have seen how, with the decay of the police

system which once effectually maintained the peace, these primary

duties had fallen into disuse, and how in consequence, the principle of

"quick and fresh pursuit" had been neglected--partly by reason of the

defective information possessed by the executive, and partly on account

of the inefficiency of the inferior officers. Under the new _régime_,

however, these most essential constituents of successful police action

were reintroduced, a conspicuous feature of the new police being the

excellence of the arrangements arrived at for the supply of information

as to the persons and habits of delinquents. To this end, a report or

"presentment," containing the results of all inquiries made during the

last twenty-four hours was daily rendered to the Commissioners, who

were thus enabled to take steps for the prevention of any threatened

breach of the peace. When a serious crime had been committed, not

only were the known facts of the case immediately circulated amongst

all the members of the London force, but necessary particulars were

periodically notified to a wider circle through the columns of the

"Police Gazette," a new official organ which superseded the old Bow

Street publication known as "The Hue and Cry."

The police constable who made his appearance in 1829 was a very

different kind of man from any of his predecessors in the same office.

The new force was recruited from the best procurable material, and

those who sought admission to its ranks were expected to possess

good physique, intelligence above the average, and an irreproachable

character. Hitherto a variety of officers had been employed in their

separate capacities of constable, watchman, street-keeper, and

thief-taker: now, all these duties had to be performed by the same

individual. The new policeman, also, was required to have sufficient

acquaintance with ordinary legal procedure to enable him to collect and

arrange the available evidence in such a manner that, when his case

came into court, the magistrate could dispose of the matter without

vexatious delays induced, either by blunders committed, or by necessary

formalities omitted. The difficulty of securing a sufficient number

of men with the necessary qualifications at the rate of remuneration

offered was immense; and although great care was exercised in the

choice of candidates, but a small proportion of those selected were

retained for any length of time. The extent to which this weeding-out

process was carried may be estimated from the fact that between 1830

and 1838 there were nearly five thousand dismissals, and more than

six thousand resignations, most of the latter not being altogether

voluntary. This was in marked contrast to the happy-go-lucky method

of the old parochial bodies, who readily accepted infirm old men,

ex-thieves, and sometimes thieves without the "ex," provided only that

they were cheap.

For the guidance of all ranks, a set of rules and regulations were

drawn up embodying principles and maxims upon which our modern police

codes rest. "At the commencement of the new establishment," say the

Commissioners, "it is the more necessary to take particular care that

the constables of the police do not form false notions of their duties

and powers. The powers of a constable, as will appear hereafter, are,

when properly understood and duly executed, amply sufficient for

their purpose. He is regarded as the legitimate peace officer of his

district; and both by the Common Law and by many acts of parliament,

he is invested with considerable powers, and has imposed upon him the

execution of many important duties.... It should be understood at the

outset that the principal object to be attained is the prevention of

crime. To this great end every effort of the police is to be directed.

The security of person and property, the preservation of the public

tranquillity, and all other objects of a police establishment will thus

be better effected than by the detection and punishment of the offender

after he has succeeded in committing the crime. This should constantly

be kept in mind by every member of the police force, as a guide for

his own conduct. Officers and police-constables should endeavour to

distinguish themselves by such vigilance and activity as may render it

extremely difficult for anyone to commit a crime within that portion

of the town under their charge.

When in any division, offences are frequently committed, there must

be reason to expect that the police in that division is not properly

conducted.

The absence of crime will be considered the best proof of the complete

efficiency of the police. In divisions where this security and good

order have been effected, the officers and men belonging to it may

feel assured that such good conduct will be noticed by rewards and

promotions."

Touching the duties of the individual constables, Mr Mayne, who drew

up the regulations, went on to say "He (_i.e._ the constable) must

remember that there is no qualification more indispensable to a police

officer than a perfect command of temper, never suffering himself to be

moved in the slightest degree by any language or threats that may be

used: if he do his duty in a quiet and determined manner, such conduct

will probably induce well-disposed bystanders to assist him should he

require it."

These regulations require no comment, they speak for themselves: but in

view of the intense and unreasoning hostility direct against the police

both by press and public, not only in 1830, but also on more recent

occasions, it is fortunate that this evidence of the conciliatory

spirit in which the reforms were introduced, should be on record. It

is hardly necessary to add that the high standard set up by the first

Justices of the Metropolitan Force has never been departed from by the

successive Commissioners of Police, from that day until now.

The immediate result of the institution of an effective police force,

whose main object was prevention, was precisely that which was to

be expected: convictions for crimes of violence decreased, because

evil-disposed persons knew that they could no longer commit them with

impunity, and convictions for minor offences increased, because the

vigilance of the new policemen brought to their proper punishment many

a petty depredator who had easily hoodwinked his familiar friend, the

old parish officer.

Under the date of November 3rd, 1829, or little more than four months

after the passing of the Act, the Duke of Wellington was able to write

to Peel--"I congratulate you on the entire success of the Police in

London, it is impossible to see anything more respectable than they

are"--and Peel to answer "I am very glad indeed to hear that you think

well of the Police. It has given me from first to last more trouble

than anything I ever undertook. But the men are gaining a knowledge

of their duties so rapidly, that I am very sanguine of the ultimate

result. I want to teach people that liberty does not consist in having

your house robbed by organised gangs of thieves, and in leaving the

principal streets of London in the nightly possession of drunken women

and vagabonds."[184]

Nothing has yet been said about the expense of the new establishment.

At what cost to the ratepayers was this increased security obtained?

Such a question is not easy to answer with any degree of certainty.

Before 1829 many parishes were practically without police of any kind,

and if they spent little in Watch-rates they paid dearly in the heavy

tolls exacted by "the organised gangs of thieves" referred to by Peel.

Other parishes kept their accounts so carelessly that their records are

useless for purposes of comparison, and it is therefore impossible to

tell how much money they wasted. The 1834 Committee, which investigated

this question of comparative expense, had all the available material

before them, and they gave it as their opinion that strict economy

pervaded the new system. In support of this opinion, they quoted the

case of the parish of Hackney, which was moderately well policed as

things went then. Prior to the introduction of the reformed police,

the ratepayers of Hackney contributed £3,380 per annum, whereas at the

maximum police rate that could be levied under the new system (viz.

eightpence in the pound) the bill was only £3,164.

CHAPTER XIII

PUBLIC OPPOSITION TO THE "NEW POLICE"

The formation of the new police force in the metropolis aroused the

fiercest opposition and remonstrance. Invective and ridicule were

heaped upon the measure from all sides. The hopeless incompetence and

the discredited character of the blackguardly Charlies were at once

forgotten, nor were the prevalence of crime and the insecurity of life

and property at all considered by those who made it their business to

foment the popular antagonism.

Week by week certain newspapers continued to publish the most

preposterous attacks: no story was too improbable to gain credence. A

_coup d'etat_ was contemplated--it was Sir Robert Peel's intention to

place the Duke of Wellington on the throne--English liberty was to give

place to military tyranny--under the pretence of providing protection

for the people the government aimed at the creation of a secret

political inquisition,--in fact anything that was at once inconsistent

and absurd was listened to with avidity and partly believed.

At first sight it seems almost incredible that any part of the nation,

except the criminal class, should have felt and exhibited such bitter

hostility to legislation that we now see had been too long delayed;

but the reluctance of the people to welcome the innovation was not

so unreasonable as it now appears. It is easy for us to be wise

after seventy years' experience of the admirable results that have

followed upon the Act of 1829; but in that year the only example of

modern militarily organized police before the eyes of the people,

was that under which Paris had groaned since the time of La Reynie.

Chateaubriand's philippics directed against the French system were

eagerly read and quoted, and it was felt that London could not avoid

the condition of interference with individual liberty that obtained

across the Channel. People could not associate in their minds a proper

police organization and the maintenance of justice, and remembered that

"injustice is always most formidable when armed."

The events of the French Revolution were still in the public mind;

and many Englishmen, who had looked on with horror at the spectacle

of a neighbouring country writhing in the grip of anarchy, narrowly

watched the course of events at home, in fearful anticipation lest any

of the causes which had brought about the debâcle in France should be

reproduced in this island. Nothing under the ancient régime had pressed

the French people so hard nor bitten so deep as the police tyranny of

the eighteenth century; and when the day of reckoning came, the one

rallying cry which never failed to stir the Parisians to an extremity

of fury, was that for the abolition of the "lettre de cachet"[185]

and for the overthrow of the lieutenant of police and his gang. And

no wonder! Liberty was impossible under a system which arrogated to

itself the right "de tout voir, de tout connaître, et de tout juger;"

when no man could call his conscience his own, and when no fireside was

secure against the paid informer. "If three men meet together, I can

rely on it that at least two of them are on my side" boasted Sartines,

a famous Chief of police. What plan could be more demoralizing than

the one which sets the servant to spy on the master, the son to watch

his father? What system so base as that under which the same hand that

presses yours in friendship is the first to arrest you, what instrument

so fatal to liberty or justice as the "lettre de cachet" which

proclaims the innocence of the man who was legally convicted yesterday,

and sends to the Bastille to-morrow the man who was honourably

acquitted to-day?

People in England who knew these things, not unnaturally asked

themselves the question, Why, with our eyes open, should we forge

against ourselves a weapon similar to that, whose sharp point has

goaded our neighbours till they were driven to set alight the torch of

revolution and to destroy the whole fabric of government?

The fear that the continental system[186] of police might be

introduced into England was not the only ground upon which this

strenuous opposition rested. Another factor was the deeply rooted

antipathy that the English have always displayed to any armed force

that they feared might deprive them of their liberty. The inherent

national suspicion of standing armies is well known: James II. tried

to govern by the aid of one, but his attempt ended in failure owing

to the opposition of the people; William III. wished to maintain a

large permanent force, but so hateful was the mere name of a standing

army in English ears, that Lord Somers, the king's minister, was

constrained to talk of it as a temporary measure, to allay the popular

irritation. Even to the present day, our comparatively small army, half

of which is permanently on foreign service, only exists at the will

of Parliament, and from year to year; whilst the fact that only two

regiments, the lineal descendants of the trained-bands, are allowed

to march through the streets of London with fixed bayonets, is an

interesting survival, as shewing the distaste that the display of armed

force in their midst has always produced amongst our countrymen. If

this was the feeling with regard to the army, which was to a certain

extent indispensable and which was only maintained, ostensibly at all

events, for use against foreign enemies, it was not to be wondered at,

if the hostility to a strange body of men uniformed and drilled like

soldiers, who were admittedly employed to keep their fellow-countrymen

in order, was more pronounced.

The mildest form of police supervision was believed by many to

necessitate the use of domiciliary visits, universal espionage, and

official interference with the concerns of daily life. Men could not

foresee the possibility of an armed constabulary keeping their hands

off law-abiding citizens, and directing their energies solely against

law-breakers. It has been said, that had the original police constables

been first seen in their present head-dress, the result would have

been dubious, but the glazed hat was just homely enough to save the

situation.

In their fears, the opponents of the police bill underrated the

efficacy of the two safeguards that have proved amply sufficient

to defend society against the employment of any objectionable or

tyrannical methods by the members of the force. The first safeguard

was, that the new police was placed under the immediate control of

the Home Secretary, who was directly responsible to the Cabinet, and

through the Cabinet to the country, for the actions of the metropolitan

force. The second safeguard lay in the power of the public press. The

routine duties of a constable were, and are necessarily, performed

in the eye of the public, and every bystander is free, through the

columns of the newspapers, to tell the rest of London what he has seen.

This facility he is seldom slow to avail himself of, and so any act

of oppression, any dereliction of duty, on the part of the police is

discussed by thousands of people by the following morning.

The Turks have a proverb "The dog barks, but the caravan passes on";

and in this case the necessity for ending the existing state of affairs

was so overwhelming, that the appeals, threats, and forebodings of

the opponents of reform were powerless to prevent, or even retard,

its progress. From its first commencement the new force learnt how

to combine authority with moderation, and the storms of clamour that

attended its birth were disguised blessings that conduced to its

subsequent efficiency.

The opposition of the less reputable part of the press, and the very

lukewarm support that was all it received from the remainder, were

not without their effect on the force, though the result produced was

far from being that hoped for by the agitators. The Commissioners,

instead of being discouraged, were stimulated. With rare wisdom,

assuming that the complaints which were continually being published

against the constables were made in good faith, they carefully

investigated each fresh indictment, with the result that, not only was

the constabulary purged of its unworthy members, but the better sense

of the country, appreciating the devotion to its interests practised

by the Commissioners, was the sooner convinced of the advantages that

follow from the establishment of a permanent and properly organized

"standing army against crime." Some of the malcontents, however, who,

from the first, had been so bitter in their opposition to Sir Robert

Peel's design, by no means relaxed their hostility after a reformed

police was an accomplished fact, but on the occasion of a projected

Royal Procession through London in 1830 again attempted to inflame the

ignorant, and to provoke them to violence against the new guardians

of the peace, by the distribution of anonymous placards. One of these

placards read as follows:--"Liberty or Death! Englishmen! Britons!!

and Honest Men!!! The time has at length arrived. All London meets

on Tuesday. Come Armed. We assure you from ocular demonstration

that 6000 cutlasses have been removed from the Tower, for the use

of Peel's Bloody Gang. Remember the cursed Speech from the Throne!!

These damned Police are now to be armed. Englishmen, will you put up

with this?"[187] The authors of this precious appeal must have had a

pathetic belief in the efficacy of strong language, if they thought

that the prospect of a collision with six thousand policemen armed

with cutlasses would be a sufficient inducement to bring together an

armed mob to oppose them; but popular feeling ran so high that it was

decided to abandon the Royal Procession, and elaborate precautions

were taken to prevent a riot. The day passed, however, without serious

consequences.

At the time of the accession of William IV., the whole country was

restless and ripe for mischief. The irritation caused by the rejection

of the Reform Bill by the House of Lords stirred up a feeling of

violent opposition amongst the masses of the people, directed, not

only against the Upper House, but against the whole executive machinery

of the Constitution. The worst outbreak occurred at Bristol, where

the gaols, public buildings, and many private houses were burnt, and

the whole town sacked as ruthlessly as if it had been an enemy's

stronghold. Birmingham was the headquarters of an association said

to consist of 200,000 members, enrolled with the avowed intention

of coercing the government by the use of armed force, if they were

unable to achieve their objects by legitimate means. In London, an

organization, calling itself "The National Political Union" had been

established with affiliated branches all over the metropolis: these

branches, or "classes," as they were called, each consisting of from 80

to 130 members, held secret meetings at which the most violent language

was often indulged in: the Union leaders were wont to insist on the

necessity of the associates arming themselves, in order that the police

might be successfully resisted, and a certain Mr Hetherington went so

far as to publicly advertise that he would give a reward of £5 to the

best marksman in the ranks of the Union. The most formidable "class"

was the 73rd, popularly known as the "fighting class," recruited

chiefly from the Camberwell district, which, for some reason or other,

seemed to be peculiarly hostile to the police: other centres were less

openly violent, and, for the most part, contented themselves with the

publication of political manifestoes and proclamations. The wording of

these latter were, as a rule, more curious than edifying. Members of

Parliament were called "mock representatives" and "borough-mongers'

creatures," the House of Lords was referred to as "the hereditary

hospital of incurable national nuisances," whilst the King was

described in these words: "Alas, poor William Guelph! he is merely the

puppet of a base scoundrelocracy."

Fortunately for the peace of London, the National Political Union

lacked influential leadership; and this want, coupled with the fact

that, by the institution of the Metropolitan Police, a powerful weapon

had just been placed in the hands of the government, prevented the

occurrence of disasters, similar to those which had devastated Bristol.

But amongst the many difficulties that surrounded Colonel Rowan and

Mr Mayne, the most exasperating originated in the hostile attitude of

these Unions.

It was, therefore, much to be regretted that any just cause for

complaint should have been given to that discontented section of

the populace, which was anxiously looking out for an opportunity

to discredit the new establishment. Unfortunately the hoped-for

opportunity was soon afforded by the improper and unauthorised conduct

of a policeman, Popay by name, who took it upon himself to act as

a spy, and by pretending to be an advanced radical, to gain the

friendship and confidence of the members of one of the classes of the

union, in order to betray them to his superiors.

It appears that when it came to the knowledge of the police

authorities, that speeches of a threatening nature were delivered at

the meetings of the various centres, the district superintendents

were instructed to send a man in plain clothes to make reports, not

with any intention of entrapping the speakers, but in order that any

projected breach of the peace might be prevented. Popay was accordingly

sent to the Camberwell neighbourhood, and either misunderstanding

his instructions, or, as is more likely, purposely exceeding them in

the hope of earning the approbation of his officers, entered upon an

elaborate career of deceit and double-dealing. Disguised under an

assumed name, and pretending to be a struggling artist, he professed

revolutionary principles of an advanced character; and having enrolled

himself in the local class, quickly became one of its ruling spirits,

inciting the other members to proceed to extreme lengths, railing

against the government, abusing the police, and even subscribing to the

funds of the society. This sort of thing continued for some months,

until it happened one day that a Camberwell reformer, whilst passing

a police office, saw Popay sitting at the window with a ledger before

him. When questioned as to the business that took him there, Popay

said that he had only casually been called in, because the police had

got their accounts into a muddle, and had asked him to set them right.

Suspicion having been aroused, however, further enquiries were made,

and it soon came to light that the _soi-disant_ ardent politician was

actually one of Peel's hated myrmidons, with the result that the outcry

about police tyranny began all over again.

The new agitation did not materially differ from the old one: the

same exaggerations and the identical falsehoods, threadbare already,

were again made use of. One new feature, however, was introduced in

the shape of a petition, which was presented to the House of Commons,

signed by one Frederick Young and nine other inhabitants of Camberwell

and Walworth, setting forth their grievances with a great parade of

humility. "Some of your petitioners," they wrote, "have frequently seen

those whom they know to be policemen disguised in clothing of various

descriptions, sometimes in the garb of gentlemen, sometimes in that of

tradesmen and artizans, sometimes in sailor jackets, and sometimes in

ploughmen's frocks: that thus feeling themselves living among spies,

seeking their lives, and sorely feeling the taxes heaped upon them

for the maintenance of those spies, they make this appeal to your

honourable house," etc., etc.

Although the mis-statements and exaggerations contained in this

petition were patent to all, the House of Commons very properly

considered the matter to be a serious accusation against the entire

police force, and at once appointed a Committee to enquire into the

truth or falsity of the system of espionage, which was alleged to be

universal. After the most careful investigation the Committee gave

it as their opinion, that the authorities should be exonerated from

the charge of connivance, but that Popay's conduct had been highly

reprehensible, adding by way of comment that "with respect to the

occasional employment of policemen in plain clothes, the system as

laid down by the heads of the police department affords no just matter

of complaint, whilst strictly confined to detecting breaches of the

law and to preventing breaches of the peace, should these ends appear

otherwise unobtainable: at the same time, the Committee would strongly

urge the most cautious maintenance of those limits, and solemnly

deprecate any approach to the employment of spies, in the ordinary

acceptation of the term, as a practice most abhorrent to the feelings

of the people, and most alien to the spirit of the Constitution."

The Popay incident would not in itself have been of more than passing

interest, had it occurred at some later period when results had

justified the creation of the metropolitan police, but happening as

it did, whilst everything was still in the experimental stage, and at

a time when the new constables were, so to speak, on probation, the

certainty that even a single policeman had been guilty of such conduct

was a severe blow to the well-wishers of the force.

The culminating point of the tide of unpopularity which threatened

to overwhelm Sir Robert Peel's police was reached soon afterwards.

In the month of May 1833, it was advertised that a public meeting,

under the auspices of the National Political Union, would be held in

Coldbath Fields. Lord Melbourne, the Home Secretary, fearing disorder

would result, informed the organizers that the gathering would not be

permitted to take place, and instructed the Police Commissioners to

have the ring-leaders arrested if they should attempt to disregard his

veto.

The steps taken by Colonel Rowan to carry out these orders were as

follows: 70 men of the "A" division were selected for the duty and

despatched under a superintendent to Coldbath Fields, with instructions

to seize the leaders the moment they began to address the crowd, and,

if the attempt was persevered in, to disperse the meeting. It was not

considered advisable to occupy the ground in force before the agitators

assembled, because, strictly speaking, the police had no authority to

prevent peaceable citizens from walking across this particular piece

of ground if they were minded to, and because it was foreseen that,

should the mob find their rendezvous already strongly held, they would

attempt to carry out their programme at some other spot, where there

was no police force strong enough to interfere with them. Colonel Rowan

attended in person to direct the operations of the police, and to read

the Riot Act, if either of these steps should appear necessary; as a

further precaution, a considerable body of constables were kept in

reserve close by, in order that there should be no danger of the police

being worsted in any encounter that might take place. This reserve,

which consisted of about 400 men, was kept out of sight, it being

thought that, in the excited state of public feeling then prevailing,

the display of an overpowering force would be calculated to irritate

the mob, and to attract in consequence a still larger crowd than might

otherwise be expected to assemble.

At the time appointed numbers of people began to congregate on the

waste ground at Coldbath Fields, and soon afterwards the speeches

commenced. As soon as it became clear that the meeting was identical

with that proscribed by the Home Secretary, the men of "A" division,

after having been warned by Colonel Rowan to be cool and temperate in

their demeanour, were ordered to carry out the instructions previously

given them. At the same time a portion of the reserve was moved from

the stables (where the men had been waiting) to support the first

party, and it was during this advance that a collision took place

at a street corner with a mob of people, who immediately began to

throw stones, by which several constables were injured. Thereupon the

superintendent gave the word to charge, and in the melée which followed

truncheons were made use of, and three policemen were stabbed, one

of them being killed on the spot. Meanwhile the crowd was incited to

further resistance by the action of a man called Stallwood, who falsely

representing himself to be a magistrate, harangued the police from the

balcony of his house, and told them that they were acting illegally in

making use of force before the Riot Act had been read. The struggle

was of short duration. The people began to disperse in all directions,

and numerous arrests were made by the police, who committed the error

of following up their victory with too much vigour, carrying pursuit

in some instances to a considerable distance from the scene of the

original conflict.

This first collision between the Metropolitan force and the people

gave rise to a series of charges against the police, which, if they

could have been substantiated, might have ended in the undoing of all

the good achieved after so many years, and brought about with so much

labour and difficulty. It was said that the police were intoxicated

and, in that condition, had made an unprovoked assault on inoffending

citizens, knocking down women and children with brutal impartiality,

and then stunning them with their truncheons as they lay on the ground.

Fortunately an exhaustive enquiry was held, with the result that the

action of the police was satisfactorily vindicated. An unanswerable

argument against the accusers was that, whereas several constables

were badly knocked about, and one killed, not a single case of serious

injury was to be found on the other side.

Public animosity, however, did not pause to reason; and at the inquest

which was held on the body of the murdered policeman Culley, the jury,

sympathizing with, or intimidated by, the popular feeling, brought in a

verdict of "justifiable homicide." A verdict so flagrantly in the teeth

of the evidence could not be allowed to stand: the Crown applied to the

Court of King's Bench, and the inquisition was very properly quashed.

A Committee of the House of Commons was then appointed to enquire

into the conduct of the police, who came out of the ordeal with more

credit than the Government did, for it was proved that the Police

Commissioners only carried out the instructions of the Home Secretary,

who, when trouble arose, sought to escape all responsibility, and to

throw the blame on Colonel Rowan. Whatever may be thought of Lord

Melbourne's action, it is certain that he did not err on the side of

over-generosity, and the slender support which he somewhat grudgingly

gave to the police authorities was hardly of a nature to encourage

them in their uphill task. It may be that this cold-shouldering of

its youngest child by a government department was not altogether a

misfortune, for a popular reaction in favour of the police quickly

followed, and friendship was expressed in quarters where nothing but

hostility had been looked for: vestries which had recently petitioned

against the formation of the force now passed resolutions in its

praise, and nearly all those parishes situated just outside the

boundary applied to be admitted into the Metropolitan police area.

Before long provincial towns and outlying districts began to solicit

the loan of police officers trained in the London school; and in eight

years some two hundred places, including Birmingham, Bristol, Hull,

Liverpool and Manchester were supplied with experts, who carried with

them to their new sphere of action the methods they had learnt in the

metropolis, and whose excellent work in the provinces did much to

disprove the ridiculous fables, which had once gained credence, as to

the overbearing incompetence of the new constabulary.

Public opinion is notoriously unstable; and in recent years the police

have probably suffered to a greater extent than any other institution

from the alternating favour and disfavour of the populace.[188] The

comparative popularity enjoyed by the Metropolitan police force in

1834 was only a precarious possession, gratifying enough at the

moment, but of little permanent value. No such disadvantage, however,

attaches to a testimonial deliberately given by a representative

tribunal, especially when such testimony is in direct contradiction to

anticipations recently expressed by an equally competent and similarly

constituted body. The 1822 Committee were of opinion that it would

be difficult "to reconcile an effective system of police with that

perfect freedom of action and exemption from interference which are the

great privileges and blessings of society in this country." The 1834

Committee, on the other hand, having satisfied themselves that these

gloomy forebodings were groundless, reported to the House of Commons as

follows: "Looking at the establishment as a whole, it appears to your

Committee that the Metropolitan police has imposed no restraint, either

upon public bodies or individuals, which is not entirely consistent

with the fullest practical exercise of every civil privilege, and with

the most unrestrained intercourse of private society."

CHAPTER XIV

POLICE REFORM IN BOROUGHS

It is sometimes assumed that the Metropolitan Police Act solved, once

and for all, the question as to the manner in which London was to be

policed for the future. Such, however, was far from being the case.

The old prejudice was not lived down in a day; and the jealousy of

those who saw what they were pleased to consider their vested rights

slipping out of their grasp into the hands of the newcomers, caused

the remnant of the old office-holders to make frantic efforts to

recover what they had lost, and to hold fast what they were in danger

of losing. There were still many irreconcilables, who looked upon

the new force as a gang of usurpers and treated it with distrust and

suspicion accordingly, hoping that some false move on the part of the

police authorities, or some unlooked-for happy chance, might change

the fortunes of the day. Luckily no such set-back occurred, and by

slow degrees the ultimate success of the principles enunciated by

Peel became more and more assured, and Scotland Yard triumphed to the

discomfiture of all possible rivals.

From the very commencement Sir Robert Peel had declared that unity of

design was essential to success; but when the reorganization took

place, Parliament shrank from the bold course marked out for it,

and instead of making a clean sweep of all that was useless, whilst

transferring to the new police anything in the old system that was

of value, preferred to retain some of the existing unsatisfactory

agencies, and to allow them to continue to manage or mismanage their

own affairs as before.

The establishments within the boundaries of the Metropolitan Police

area that survived the reorganization of 1829 were[189]--

i. The Bow Street Horse-Patrol, under the control

of the Chief Magistrate at Bow Street.

ii. The police constables under the separate control

of the Magistrates of the Police Offices,

to which they respectively belonged, being

the following offices--Bow Street, Hatton

Garden, Union Hall, Worship Street, Lambeth

Street, Queen Square, Marlborough

Street, High Street Marylebone, and the

Town Hall Southwark.

iii. The River Police, under the control of the

Magistrates of the Thames Police Office.

iv. The City of London Police, under the control

of the Municipal authorities.

Each of these independent establishments carried out its police

functions according to its own peculiar ideas and local traditions. One

and all were jealous of their powerful neighbour at Scotland Yard; and

when they dared to do so, were not ashamed to countenance the petty and

spiteful tactics that their subordinate officers lost no opportunity

of indulging in.

It will be remembered that a short supplementary Act[190] had

contemplated the transference of the powers possessed by the Chief

Magistrate at Bow Street over the Horse Patrol, to the Metropolitan

Police Commissioners. This intention was not given effect to at the

time, the Patrol being left under the command of its old chief, Mr Day;

and the Act was repealed in 1833.[191] It was not until October 1836,

or more than seven years after the passing of Peel's measure, that the

Horse Patrol became an integral part of the Metropolitan Consolidated

Police, an amalgamation which, besides increasing the actual efficiency

of both forces, effected an annual saving of more than a thousand

pounds.[192] The horse-patrolmen became mounted constables, being

attached as such to the exterior divisions, where the beats were long;

and this arrangement has been continued to the present day.

It took longer to arrive at a satisfactory settlement with regard to

the small detached bodies of police belonging to the nine stipendiary

offices enumerated above. No one wished to interfere with the judicial

functions of these police-courts; but it was highly desirable to effect

a separation between the judicial and executive branches, and to bring

under proper supervision and control the undisciplined plain-clothes

policemen who thought more of picking up a good living for themselves,

and of "scoring off" their uniformed rivals, than they did of the

preservation of the peace. The manner in which the general business of

these police offices was conducted left much to be desired, whilst the

arrangements for the conveyance of prisoners, and for their detention

when awaiting disposal and under remand, were about as bad as they

could be. As many as thirty prisoners of all conditions, of various

ages, and of both sexes, were often crowded together in a prison van,

in which there was only accommodation for twenty, and left there for

hours in the dark whilst the van was making the tour of the police

offices. When no conveyance was available, prisoners were sometimes

conducted from the place of detention to the police-court handcuffed

and fastened together by a long chain. It was alleged, probably with

truth, that the officer in charge would allow his prisoners to be

supplied with drink by sympathetic onlookers as, in Indian file, the

procession passed through the public streets.

Such abuses were put an end to when the inevitable consolidation

took place and the separate jurisdiction of the stipendiary offices

ceased. The necessary duties about the courts were for the future

ably performed by sergeants and constables of the new police, and the

old staff, including the Bow Street Runners, were pensioned off or

absorbed into the Metropolitan force. This centralization not only

materially conduced to increased efficiency and diminished expense,

but by severing the too intimate connection that had previously

existed between magistrates and policemen, was calculated to reassure

the public, in so far that a magistracy untrammelled by police

responsibility would be less prone to be over-indulgent towards any

excesses of which the Constabulary might at any time be guilty.

The case of the third independent body was altogether different. The

duties that fell to the River Police were special duties, and specially

trained men were required to perform them adequately. The Thames

police establishment, which was recruited chiefly from ex-sailors and

watermen, consisted of sixty constables under the direction of twenty

"surveyors"--each surveyor being in charge of a boat manned by three

men; their powers comprised the right to board vessels in search of

contraband or stolen articles, and generally to discharge the duties

of excisemen and policemen combined. Since the year 1798, when the

River Police was remodelled on the lines suggested by Colquhoun, it

had proved an efficient body, and there were no obvious abuses or

shortcomings that necessitated a radical change; the arguments for and

against amalgamation were therefore more evenly balanced than was the

case with the stipendiary offices, but it was felt that as both banks

of the Thames were patrolled by the Metropolitan Police, it was rather

absurd that the river between should be under a separate organization

and control. It was accordingly decided to continue the work of

consolidation, and many of the powers previously exercised by the

magistrates of the Thames Office were transferred to the Commissioners

at Scotland Yard, the personnel of the river force being left as

before.

The police arrangements in the City of London have already been

described; certain modifications and improvements had been recently

introduced, but the general scheme remained virtually the same as it

had been any time during the last quarter of a century. It is true that

a better class of man was employed than was formerly the case; but the

system was not good, marred as it was by a lack of uniformity within,

and a failure to co-operate with the kindred agencies without, the

city boundaries. The expense too was excessive, and there was a period

between the relief of the day patrols and the mounting of the night

watch when no police at all were on duty. There can be little doubt

that if the civic authorities had permitted this unsatisfactory state

of affairs to continue much longer, government would have insisted

upon consolidation, thus putting an end to the separate and exclusive

jurisdiction in matters of police which, for five hundred years, had

been the privilege of the City of London. Such a step, however, was

rendered unnecessary by the timely precautions adopted by the Lord

Mayor and Aldermen, who, taking the Metropolitan police as a pattern,

entirely reorganized the city force, bringing it up to date both in

respect to numbers and efficiency, and so ordering it that there should

be no cause for friction between the city constables and metropolitan

policemen, and no cause for jealousy other than that which proceeds

from a healthy sentiment of _esprit de corps_. The legislature was

all the more ready to acquiesce in this compromise, because the

City, asking for no assistance from the Treasury, bore the whole

expense connected with the improved constabulary out of its private

revenues.[193]

By the end of 1839 the consolidation was complete, and within a

circumference distant fifteen miles from Charing Cross there remained

but two police forces, both organized on similar lines and each

designed on intelligent principles, in the place of the heterogeneous

medley of samples formerly existing. In this same year, the efficiency

of the Metropolitan Police was increased, and its sphere of usefulness

enlarged, by an Act[194] which enables additions to be made to the

police district by an Order in Council, and which empowers its officers

to act as constables in and for certain specified districts outside the

Metropolitan Police Area, such as, for example, the City of London, all

navigable parts of the River Thames, and any place within ten miles

of a Royal Palace. Authority was also given to police-constables to

suppress gaming houses, disorderly houses, and illegal games (such

as cock-fighting, prize-fighting, bull-baiting, and the like), to

supervise licensed premises and pawnbrokers, and to regulate fairs and

street-musicians.[195]

The success that had attended the reorganization of the police of the

metropolis, and the gratifying results that, on the whole, had followed

the experiment, encouraged the hope that the benefits conferred by an

efficient constabulary would soon be shared by the boroughs throughout

the country. It would be an endless task to attempt a description of

all the various police systems which found favour in the provincial

towns, especially as in no two places was exactly the same pattern

adopted; and it will be quite sufficient for our purpose if we briefly

notice the arrangements come to for the prevention of crime and the

maintenance of order in the case of a few selected boroughs.

In 1833 Bath had a population of about 20,000, or if we include the

suburbs, 55,000; there was no permanent body of professional peace

officers, only tythingmen or constables to the number of 110. This

small force was split up into three parts, each part independent of,

and antagonistic to, the others: on the occasion of a parliamentary

election, when party feeling ran high and serious disturbances took

place all over the town, the Walcot and Bathwick divisions gave their

assistance, but the city police refused to act, even when they were

appealed to by the Mayor in person. If a felony was committed in the

city, the guilty party could only be apprehended on the warrant of

a city magistrate, and, if the felon should succeed in reaching the

suburbs, the city constables could not execute the warrant until it was

backed by a justice of the county of Somersetshire.

In Gloucester no watchmen were employed before 1822, and the whole

available constabulary force consisted of the Sergeant-at-Mace, and

the other officers of the Corporation, assisted by twelve constables

appointed by the magistrates. The ancient Court of Pie-poudre

flourished until 1770 or thereabouts, after which it gradually fell

into disuse. In 1831 two day policemen were appointed in imitation of

the London system.

Coventry, with a population of 28,000, supported 60 peace-officers

under the command of a chief-constable, and from 8 to 10 watchmen under

the orders of an official called "the Inspector of the Watch." In case

of emergency the town looked for protection to the services of special

constables who had been enrolled in times of tumult to the number of

four or five hundred. Generally speaking the police were unpaid, but

when employed in quelling a riot, the constables were sometimes given a

shilling or eighteenpence for refreshments.

Dover had two distinct forces, one under the control of the

magistrates, and the other (established under the "Pavement Act"),

wholly independent. The total number of constables was from 25 to 30,

but they had nothing to do with watching the town.

At this time Hull contained 36,000 inhabitants, and was policed on

a very economical plan. The chief constable supervised thirty-nine

officers who were only paid for work done; that is to say, the

constables were allowed so much an hour for time actually spent in

apprehending felons or vagrants, on the principle: no prisoner, no pay.

The dock companies employed a percentage of their day-labourers to act

as night watchmen, and, under a local act, 72 watchmen were appointed

for the town and outlying districts. In Portsmouth 22 peace officers

pretended to protect nearly 50,000 people, and in Liverpool, where the

prevalence of crime was so pronounced that the town was often spoken

of as the "black spot on the Mersey," the only police force existing

in 1834 was a body of 50 watchmen (of the usual type), to keep order

amongst 240,000 inhabitants.

These brief but representative examples will give some idea of the

diversity of police systems and police expedients to be found in

the larger towns. If each borough had been left to work out its own

salvation according to its own predilections, constabulary forces

more or less efficient would eventually, no doubt, have sprung up

here and there; but the absence of uniformity and co-operation, which

necessarily must accompany such a spasmodic process, would have

seriously retarded the ultimate triumph of good government throughout

England.

There were three principal reasons why the immediate provision of a

general scheme of police reform in the Boroughs was urgently required

at this particular moment. Criminals of all kinds are ever on the

alert to find an Alsatia where they can ply their trades without the

unwelcome interference of their hereditary enemy, the policeman, and

the formation of the Metropolitan force was the signal for a wholesale

exodus of depredators from London towards other and more secluded

centres of activity. The smaller country towns and rural districts

offered few attractions to enterprising thieves, and so boroughs like

Liverpool, Manchester and Bristol, where considerable plunder was to

be had at little risk, were the chosen retreats of many who no longer

dared to brave it out in London.

If any reliance may be placed on contemporary statistics, this

migration entirely altered the distribution of the criminal classes:

it was estimated, incredible as it may seem, that in 1797 nearly ten

per cent. of the population of London supported themselves "by pursuits

either criminally illegal or immoral":[196] in 1837, the proportion

of known bad characters to the population was calculated at only 1 to

89 in the Metropolitan Police District, but at 1 to 45 in the Borough

of Liverpool, 1 to 31 in the City of Bristol, and 1 to 27 in the Town

of Newcastle-on-Tyne.[197] One cannot believe that these calculations

were based on perfectly accurate information, but on the other hand

it is unlikely that the results are so wide of the mark as to be

altogether without value, and after allowing a large margin for error,

proof enough remains that the enhanced security of London had, to some

extent, been purchased at the expense of the inhabitants of other towns.

The desire to acquire wealth without working for it--to "live idly

yet to fare well"--is the main incentive that makes men criminal, and

experience proves that if those who live by their wits are sufficiently

harassed, they soon show their wit by returning to the humdrum path of

honesty till such time as the vigilance of their enemies is relaxed.

"Allow the thief no rest" is a sound maxim of preventive police; and if

in 1829 it had been possible simultaneously to provide efficient police

for all the towns of England, many and many a thief would have been

driven to exchange his old occupation for some less precarious trade.

The second reason why delay was dangerous was because of the enormous

increase of population in the manufacturing towns. Trade was brisk,

money plentiful, and the rapid development of the railway system

caused an increasing stream of workers to flow from the country into

the industrial centres. The population of Birmingham, for instance,

increased in this way from 90,000 in 1815 to 150,000 in 1832.

The last of the three reasons which contributed to make this particular

moment especially opportune for insisting that the provincial towns

should provide themselves with an improved and adequate police, was

because Municipal reform was the question of the hour, and it was

therefore extremely important that the new-fashioned Boroughs should

neither perpetuate faulty tradition nor originate impracticable

experiment.

The history of English Boroughs cannot here be discussed; it will be

sufficient to remark that, early in English history, charters, giving

powers of self-government, had been granted to many towns and by many

successive sovereigns. The creation of Corporate Towns was esteemed

one of the highest prerogatives of the Crown, but the powers so

conferred were seldom employed to the best advantage; and the fact that

failure was especially pronounced in the matter of peace-maintenance

is sufficiently illustrated by the examples already given of borough

police forces, as at this time constituted.

Legislative reform was set on foot in 1833 by the "Lighting and

Watching Act" of William IV.,[198] which provided that inspectors

should be appointed and given a large measure of control over the

local police establishments of all English towns with the exceptions

of London, Oxford, and Cambridge; this Act was, however, of little

permanent value,[199] and is only worthy of notice as the first attempt

to provide a day police outside the metropolis. In the following year

the whole question of charters, etc., was investigated by Special

Commissioners, who issued a report embodying recommendations, which,

for the most part, were given effect to by the "Municipal Corporations

Act" of 1835.[200] After repealing all Acts, charters, and customs

inconsistent with itself, this statute proceeds to create municipal

corporations for the larger towns; such corporations to be styled

"The Mayor, Aldermen, and Burgesses." The Mayor is declared to be a

Justice of the Peace for the borough, and no property qualification is

now required of him. The Common Law method of appointing constables

is placed on a new basis, for the Act entrusts the making of Head and

other constables to a body composed of the mayor and councilmen, called

"The Watch Committee," the members of which are empowered, at their

discretion, to make regulations for the management of the police, and

to discharge or otherwise punish any constable found remiss in his

duties, provided that three members at least are present when the award

is made.

Borough constables are given powers to act in the county as well as in

the town, and are authorized, not only to apprehend disorderly persons

at any time, but during the night may take bail by recognizance from

persons brought before them for petty misdemeanours, such recognizance

to be conditioned for the appearance of the parties before the

magistrate.

Watch Committees are required to provide station-houses, and every

quarter must transmit to the Home Secretary a return shewing the number

of men employed, the nature of their arms and accoutrements, together

with an account of all salaries, clothing, and standing regulations

for the forces; provision is made for the appointment, under certain

conditions, of stipendiary magistrates at the request of the Council;

the office of Borough Coroner is instituted; and finally, the Act

requires two or more Justices to nominate and appoint by precept in

writing, in October of each year, as many as they see fit of the

inhabitants of the Borough to act as Special Constables there, whenever

they shall be required by the warrant of a J.P.

The institution of special constables was a natural accompaniment to

the general drift of circumstances which, for a long time, had been

modifying English police. Originally, as we have seen, every free

Englishman was compelled to take an active part in maintaining the

peace: subsequently, by common consent and merely for the sake of

convenience, the performance of police functions passed into the hands

of individuals, either chosen or hired for the purpose, it mattered not

which. As long as the principle of an inherent liability to universal

service was generally well understood and acted upon, or, in other

words, as long as the Sheriff's _posse_ was available in emergencies,

no legislation was required on the subject, because at Common Law a

sufficient force of special constables already existed; but when this

common responsibility for action was in danger of being forgotten, or,

what amounts to much the same thing, when the existing machinery was

incapable of giving effect to it, some new expedient had to be devised

to take its place.

The first Act of Parliament authorizing the appointment of special

constables was passed in 1673,[201] and was a tardy attempt to repair

the havoc caused by the Civil War, but like many laws that found their

way into the Statute Book during the seventeenth century, it might

just as well have remained unprinted, for all the use that was made of

it. It was not employed to restrain the Mohocks, nor to suppress the

Gordon rioters, nor to save Bristol from the incendiaries. In 1831,

however, began a sustained effort to systematize the overwhelming

reserve of force at the disposal of the government of the country;

this was the combined work of "The Special Constables' Act"[202] of

1831, of the "Municipal Corporations Act"[203] of 1835, and lastly

of an Act[204] which became law shortly after the accession of Queen

Victoria. These three Statutes dealt with the subject in detail, by

defining what constitutes a special constable, by specifying his

powers, and by stating when and by whom he is to be appointed. Between

them they authorize "two or more justices, upon information on oath of

any credible witness, that tumult, riot, or felony has taken place,

or may be reasonably apprehended, such justices being of opinion that

the ordinary officers are not sufficient for the preservation of the

peace and protection of the inhabitants and property," to "nominate

and appoint by precept under their hand so many as they shall think

fit of the householders or other persons (not legally exempt from

serving the office of Constable) residing in the parish or place or

in the neighbourhood, for such time and in such manner as to the same

justices shall seem fit," and ordain that they "shall send notice of

such appointment to the Secretary of State and the Lieutenant of

the county. Specials may act, not only in the parish or place for

which appointed, but throughout the jurisdiction of the Justices

appointing, and on the order of Justices of their own county, may act

in an adjoining county."[205] Generally speaking, special constables

have all the powers, and are subject to all the responsibilities, that

ordinarily attach to police constables within their constablewicks.

The years 1829 and 1839 mark the limits of the most important decade

in our police history. During this period of time the English boroughs

acquired the means of securing themselves against the rising tide of

crime which had threatened to overwhelm them; and an adequate defence

against mob violence was made available by the legislation which

restored, and reduced to a system, the power of the executive to enlist

as many special constables as might be necessary for the maintenance of

law and order. Whilst the former year will always be considered, and

rightly so, as the most prominent landmark of the great revival from

which dates an almost constant growth of police efficiency, the latter

is hardly less noteworthy. 1839 not only saw the metropolitan forces

for the first time firmly established on a permanent and satisfactory

basis, it witnessed also the earlier stages of that movement in the

rural districts which eventually provided the whole of England with a

trustworthy constabulary.

CHAPTER XV

POLICE REFORM IN COUNTIES

Before describing the successive steps by which the County Constabulary

progressed towards its long-delayed reorganization, it will be

convenient to follow the method before adopted, when dealing with the

somewhat similar march of events in the Metropolis, and to preface

such description by a short account of the unreformed county police,

thereby shewing how disastrous were the consequences of the faulty

system in vogue, as revealed by the deplorable condition of rural

England under its influence. The great source of information on this

subject is the exhaustive report of the Royal Commission, appointed

in 1839, to inquire as to the best means of establishing an efficient

constabulary force in the counties of England and Wales. In the

course of their enquiry (which was the most complete investigation of

crime, its causes, and the means of its prevention, ever undertaken

in this country), the Commissioners not only interrogated heads of

business-houses, their commercial travellers and foremen, country

magistrates, policemen, and coastguards, but examined thieves,

receivers, and all kinds of gaol-birds.

The immediate result of the activity of the new metropolitan and

municipal police forces was found to be, that habitual criminals had

migrated in large numbers from London, and from those towns where

an improved constabulary had superseded the old parish watch, and

had begun to ply their trade in the unprotected districts. Country

magistrates unanimously reported that the bulk of the more serious

offences recently committed in their respective neighbourhoods was

the work of strangers from the great towns. The superintendent of

the Liverpool dock police stated that about a thousand well-known

thieves, who had been evicted from the city, were now continuing

their depredations in the suburbs and small towns near. Questioned on

this subject, a prisoner confessed--"I considered that in London and

Liverpool, or such places as have got the new police, there is little

to be done, unless it be picking pockets; people there think that

they are safe under the eye of the new police, and will take large

sums of money in their pockets." Another prisoner, in corroboration,

said "The most important obstructions that could be placed in the way

of depredations is a more efficient police similar to that in London

and Liverpool--very few robberies in the centre of Liverpool,--all

in the outskirts, out of the police districts." A second cause that

contributed to the migration of both thieves and receivers to the

provinces was the extension of the railway and canal systems, which,

besides facilitating the rapid movement of plunderers from place to

place, exposed quantities of valuable merchandise on truck and canal

boat without protection. Merchants were indifferent to the fate of

their goods when once a receipt had been obtained from the carriers;

and they again, in common with the shipping agents, found it extremely

difficult to put a stop to the petty thieving that went on, partly

because the loss was generally undiscovered until the goods reached

their destination (which as often as not was in a foreign country), and

partly because the number of people through whose hands the property

passed was so great, that the attempt to fix the responsibility on any

individual would have been to incur a laborious and expensive system of

checking and counter-checking that the value of the articles stolen did

not seem to justify. Of all these petty thieves, the bargemen were the

worst offenders, and the opportunities they met with, combined with the

impunity they enjoyed, attracted many thieves to the calling; all over

the country receivers of stolen property set up shop near the canals;

burglars would bring their spoil by night to a pre-arranged rendezvous,

and hand it over to the bargees, who took it aboard, concealed it under

the cargo, and disposed of it at the fence's shop as occasion offered.

Much ingenuity was displayed in this traffic. For instance, an

ex-bargeman convicted of theft explained to the Commissioners how

he and his mates used to extract valuables from bales, casks, and

boxes without risk of discovery, every trip they made. Silk could

be withdrawn from the centre of a bale by means of a hook specially

designed for the purpose; chests of tea were carefully opened, a few

pounds extracted, and the remainder made to occupy the original space

by means of judicious damping. In the case of casks of wine or spirits,

the following ingenious method was resorted to; first one of the hoops

was removed, and two holes were bored on opposite sides of the cask,

one for drawing off the liquid, the other for letting in air; when

a considerable portion of the liquor had been taken, the cask was

filled up with water, the holes were pegged up, and all traces covered

up by replacing the hoop. Nor did canal-thieves confine themselves

to pilfering from boats, but as they travelled the country, they

slaughtered sheep, snared game, and milked farmers' cows.

The next matter investigated by the Commissioners was the lack of

proper protection to travellers on the public highways. By this time

highwaymen, the terror of the last century, had been practically

suppressed, but footpads were more common than ever; countrymen

returning from market used to make up parties, and wait for hours for

company rather than go home alone, whilst after dark many a commercial

traveller would go armed with a pistol, and accompanied by a dog, for

fear of being robbed. More serious still were the revelations brought

to light with regard to wrecking. It was proved that almost all the

inhabitants of the coast were wreckers; children were brought up to

consider the practice legitimate, and women prayed that the winter

would bring a rich harvest. When the weather was stormy, hundreds of

people would crowd to the beach, not with any thought of rescuing the

drowning, but only eager for plunder; as wreckage neared the shore

men might be seen swimming out to be the first to touch any article

that appeared to be of value, for by local tradition undisputed

ownership was in this way acquired. Witnesses testified to all kinds of

atrocities. A ship called "The Grecian" went to pieces off the Cheshire

coast--the captain was drowned, and his body was found stripped naked

by the wreckers, who, not content with his clothes, cut off one of his

fingers to obtain possession of the ring. Even this act of savagery was

surpassed at a village called Moreton, where it was proved that a woman

had bitten off the ear-lobes from a female corpse for the sake of the

earrings.

Mr Dowling, the Commissioner of the Liverpool police, stated that

in Cheshire parish constables never interfered with wreckers, and

on occasions when the borough police were employed on salvage duty

they had to go armed to protect themselves against the hostility

of the neighbouring villagers. In Cornwall, public opinion was so

well disposed towards wreckers, and so superstitiously hostile to

shipwrecked sailors, that the coastguard were frequently intimidated

and forced to desist from their efforts to save life. It is related

how, on one occasion, after communication had with much difficulty been

established with a stranded ship by means of the rocket apparatus, the

onlookers rushed down and cut the hawser when only one man had been

saved, because they believed that if the crew was rescued, ill-luck

would befall the district.

The Commissioners' summing-up on this part of the subject was couched

in the following words: "It is our duty to report, as the result of the

extensive inquiries we have made, as to the mode in which the primary

duties of a civilized community, in the protection of the persons and

property of wayfarers and strangers, are performed, that the barbarous

practices above described are not confined to particular districts, but

prevail among the population of our coasts wherever wrecks occur...."

Another matter which occupied the attention of the Commission had

reference to the lawlessness prevailing in the manufacturing districts.

As is well known, the introduction of machinery, or, more correctly

speaking, the quarrels and consequent cessation of work to which the

innovation gave rise, brought much suffering to the wage earning

classes. In 1826 the hand-weavers of Lancashire rose in rebellion, and

the combinations entered into by the operatives in mines and factories

were at first remarkable for the extreme violence of the methods

employed, being signalised by an epidemic of machine-breaking in some

counties, and by the crime of vitriol-throwing in others. The right

of every man to sell his labour at his own price, or to cease work

altogether if it pleased him to do so, was at this time recognised, and

the legality of combination was no longer denied; but the organizers of

labour were not willing to grant to the independent artisan the same

measure of liberty that they demanded for themselves and for those whom

they claimed to represent. The result of this attitude on the part of

the leaders of trades-unionism was that cases of coercion, accompanied

by violence, were of common occurrence, and the need of an efficient

police force to protect life and property, as well as to prevent

intimidation, was very urgent. In this connection the Commissioners

remark "some of the strongest corroborative evidence in favour of the

efficiency of a well-organized constabulary or police force, might

perhaps be found in the extreme bitterness of invective with which the

parties implicated in illegal practices in these districts treat any

proposition for its introduction, whilst they view with complacency

any actual increase of the military force." The "illegal practices"

above referred to had their origin, not only in differences between

employers and employées, such as the rate of wages and hours of labour,

but certain organizations, confident that they were stronger than the

representatives of the law, presumed to take the law into their own

hands, and to dictate terms right and left. At Sevenoaks, in Kent, a

colony of journeymen paper-makers determined to pay no poor-rate, and

terrorised the local constables when they came to levy distress. The

authorities having sought the assistance of the Metropolitan police,

a small party was dispatched from London, which, though savagely

attacked, succeeded in arresting some of the rioters. On their return

they proposed to take one of the local constables with them to identify

the prisoners, but he was so alarmed at the consequences of incurring

the vengeance of the paper-makers, that he tried to escape, and could

only be induced to accompany the victorious policemen by counter

threats of personal violence.

Scanty as was the protection afforded to the well-to-do, the chief

sufferers under the parochial system were the very poor. Inability

to pay for a substitute compelled a poor man, whatever his trade or

employment, to serve in person, if chosen as constable; and it was

seldom that the fees he could honestly earn in his office recouped

him for the losses he was certain to sustain in his business. Again,

if a labourer had anything stolen from his cottage, he had to put his

hand in his pocket for half-a-crown, or more, before he could employ

a parish-constable, and should there be no committal, all the expense

of the investigation and subsequent proceedings fell on the man whose

only offence had been that he had lost his property; and even when the

offender was convicted it sometimes happened that the circumstances

made it impossible for the magistrate to allow full expenses. The

injustice of such a state of affairs is well illustrated by a case

heard at Devizes in 1853, the details of which were as follows: a

poor man had a pair of boots stolen from his barge, he followed the

thief into Somersetshire, and after a long chase, caught him and

handed him over to the nearest constable, who conducted the culprit

back to Wiltshire, where at the ensuing Sessions he was convicted and

sentenced. The constable's bill amounted to £4, 16s. 7d., made up as

follows:--

To apprehending prisoner £0 2 6

Maintaining do. two days 0 3 0

Guard-watching do. one night 0 2 6

--------

Carry forward, £0 8 0

Brought forward, £0 8 0

Conveyance of prisoner at 9d. a mile,

and allowance to Constable 8d. a

mile (37 miles) 2 12 5

Three days' loss of time 0 15 0

Hire of conveyance, coach, and other

fares 1 1 2

-------

Total £4 16 7

but because the offender, a boy, was convicted under the Juvenile

Offenders Act, which only authorized an allowance of forty shillings

for expenses, there was a deficit of £2, 16s. 7d. to be made good by

the man who had lost his boots.

The reluctance of the public to prosecute, which, as we have seen,

was one of the many avenues of escape open to the criminal, was only

to be expected, and was due rather to a defective system than to any

lack of what is called public spirit. At a time when punishments

were vindictive, men sympathized with the prisoner, and could with

difficulty be induced to appear against him; this was especially the

case when the community at large, and not any particular individual,

had suffered injury. When the severity of the penal code was mitigated,

it still remained unfashionable to prosecute, partly from force of

habit, partly because the public which had no confidence in the

police, would not willingly incur the trouble and danger of taking an

active part in the administration of justice, but chiefly because the

expense of putting the law in motion was prohibitive for all but the

comparatively wealthy. Well aware of their impunity, tramps would

enter cottages at an hour when the owners were at work in the fields,

steal the supper from the cupboard, and perhaps take a coat from behind

the door, confident that poor people could do nothing to further the

ends of justice as long as the first question asked by the parish

constable was sure to be "Who is going to pay me?"

Even when thieves were caught red-handed, and delivered over to the

constable, the informant was frequently tempted to think better of it,

and either let the matter go by default or compound with the prisoner.

In 1837, within a space of seven months, 201 persons, taken into

custody for felony, were discharged without trial, simply because the

parties concerned refused to prosecute, and out of this total as many

as 53 were well-known thieves.

Under these circumstances it is not to be wondered at that from all

parts of England suggestions poured in, urging the necessity of

provision being made for the appointment of a public prosecutor,

suggestions which were emphatically echoed in the report of the 1839

Commission. In Scotland, it may be mentioned, such an official, called

the Procurator Fiscal, had existed for some time, with the most

beneficial results, whilst in London, the Metropolitan police undertook

similar work in the public interest.

Amongst many contributing causes which were answerable for the

breakdown of the parochial system of police, the chief was undoubtedly

the incompetency of its agents. Frequently a pauper would be chosen

constable, either with the idea of saving expense to the parish

by keeping down the poor-rate, or from a misdirected impulse of

charity, which prompted people to give the appointment to an old

man who could earn his livelihood in no other way. Sometimes the

parish constable would add the business of master of the village

alehouse to that of policeman, a comfortable arrangement which, if not

otherwise advantageous, at least produced perfect harmony between the

representative of the law and the representative of the trade.

Justice, so called, was administered in a haphazard, and often in a

ludicrous, manner. In one country town constables were instructed to

arrest all vagrants, and after having their heads shaved at the local

gaol, set them at liberty; in another district the magistrates ordered

parish constables to tap with their staves the pockets of all labourers

they might meet after dark, in order to break any pheasants' or

partridges' eggs that might be concealed there; a Bedfordshire farmer

who had given offence to a gang of poachers was shot in broad daylight

on the public road, and in the view of several persons, but the

assailant was not arrested, the constable excusing himself from acting

on the plea that he did not think himself justified in apprehending

anybody without a warrant. A return from the City of Lincoln, on

the other hand, described how an over-officious parochial constable

"brought two men in handcuffs to the police station at Lincoln for a

trifling squabble and assault, which he did not witness, and without

any previous information or warrant."

Complaints against constables, on the score of their neglect to

pursue criminals, came from all parts of the country. A return from

a Monmouthshire village reported the escape of a murderer which was

solely due to the refusal of the constable of the tything of Colgive

to get out of bed at midnight, though "repeatedly and urgently called

upon" to do so; and in another country parish, the constable, when

summoned to quell a disturbance, sent word to say that he regretted

that he was unable to come himself "but that he sent his staff by

bearer." At Welchpool the wife of a shopkeeper poisoned her husband,

and the same night eloped with the shop-assistant. The Coroner's

inquest returned a verdict of wilful murder against the guilty couple,

but no pursuit was made for several days, and then only after the

magistrates and others, scandalised at such a miscarriage of justice,

had got up a public subscription to defray the expenses of the

constable's journey.

The apathy of those who were responsible for the policing of rural

England produced its natural result; and, in the absence of adequate

Government protection, people who were not content to submit quietly to

be robbed by any scoundrel who preferred plunder to labour, made their

own arrangements for self-protection. In 1839, there were upwards of

five hundred voluntary associations for the apprehension of felons; of

these associations some only concerned themselves with the financial

side of the question, and by a system of mutual assurance guaranteed

compensation, in part at least, to any member of the society who had

suffered loss by theft or arson; others took a more active part against

depredators, and revived the ancient institution of Hue and Cry in a

practical manner by binding themselves to make quick and fresh pursuit

on horseback after any aggressor. During a parliamentary election at

Maldon, one party was compelled to employ a bodyguard of professional

boxers to protect its candidate from the attacks of political

opponents, who, in their turn, retained the services of a band of

gypsies, as a measure of retaliation. But perhaps the most irregular

of all these associations was that established in the Isle of Ely,

where the parishioners of Whittlesea kept a pack of blood-hounds for

the purpose of hunting down sheep-stealers. After carefully considering

the operations of these societies for self-protection, the Special

Commissioners unanimously condemned such expedients, and stated, that

in their opinion, "the fact that they had been found necessary was as

serious an indictment as could be preferred against the rural police,"

and remarked, that the existence of such associations might, in after

years, be cited as a proof that the community which employed them was

relapsing into a state of barbarism.

The prostrate condition of English police under the parochial system

should be sufficiently clear without the production of further

evidence. What, however, is perhaps the most convincing proof, that

could be found, of the utter futility and unseemliness of the police

arrangements in rural districts, is contained in the following plain

statement from the magistrates of the Trant division of Sussex, on the

subject of the lack of proper lock-ups for the temporary detention

of prisoners. "In case," they complain, "a prisoner is remanded for

further examination, there is no efficient place nearer than Lewes

(23 miles) ... there are cages in several parishes but never used

being unsafe ... for twenty years we have been compelled to hire a

man, and handcuff him to the prisoner, and they are obliged to live

at a public house.... Two incendiaries were each locked to men hired

for the purpose, and kept at a serious expense ten days, separately

in different houses." Some sixty years ago a comic engraving was

published, which portrayed a prisoner handcuffed to his gaoler,

undergoing a mock trial in the taproom of an alehouse for the amusement

of the village tipplers. Such an incident may well have happened, at a

time when it was no uncommon occurrence for a constable to confine his

prisoner in a stable, or to chain him to a bedpost, until it might be

convenient to remove him to a distant lock-up.

In concluding their comprehensive and interesting report, the

Commissioners (Colonel Rowan, Mr Shaw Lefevre, and Mr Edwin Chadwick)

strongly recommended the immediate establishment of a paid rural

constabulary throughout England and Wales, with an organization similar

to that of the Metropolitan police, and pointed out, that in order to

lessen the expense of the proposed establishment, the new constables

might conveniently perform various civil and administrative services,

in addition to their normal duties connected with the maintenance of

the peace.

Shortly after the presentation of the report, an Act of Parliament,

commonly called "The Permissive Act,"[206] was passed, enabling a

majority of the Justices in Quarter Sessions, to raise and equip, at

their discretion, a paid police for the protection of their county.

Justices who decided to take advantage of the Act were empowered to

appoint a chief-constable, and delegate to him the power of appointing,

directing and disciplining a sufficient number of police constables,

the expense of the force to be charged against the general county

rate.[207] Adjoining shires were permitted to unite for the common

purpose of policing the larger area; and if any county refused, as a

whole, to avail itself of the facilities now afforded, any division of

that county might maintain a separate police force; provision was also

made for the voluntary amalgamation of existing borough forces with

any country constabulary, that might thereafter be appointed in the

immediate neighbourhood.

The permissive character of the "Rural Police Act" has often been

adversely criticised, sometimes, perhaps, without due allowance being

made for the difficulty of the problem which confronted the government.

It cannot be denied that, judged by its immediate results, the Act

was largely a failure, and it is equally certain that its ill-success

was consequent upon the free choice between adoption and rejection

allowed to local magistrates; but it must be remembered that the power

of the government in this matter was far from being unrestricted, the

only possible alternatives before the authorities being, the policy of

making a small beginning, and the policy of doing nothing at all.

Reference has already been made to the difficulty of securing

satisfactory recruits for the metropolitan police, and the available

supply had been still further reduced by the demands made upon

it to satisfy the necessities of the boroughs. An endeavour to

provide simultaneously the whole of England and Wales with efficient

police-officers would have been to attempt the impracticable, whilst

knowingly to admit inferior men into the ranks of the new constabulary

would have been to condemn it irretrievably. Nor was the lack of

suitable material the only reason why a cautious plan of campaign was

necessary and inevitable; the same spirit of obstinate opposition which

had been encountered and nearly overcome in London was, to some extent,

apparent in the counties; country gentlemen, besides being indisposed

to favour any innovation that threatened their personal supremacy

so near home, were strongly opposed to any additional burden being

thrown on the county rate. The press, without repeating the bitterness

displayed in 1829, added its influence to that of the county magnates,

and the idea that any reform of the rural police was at all necessary

was scouted by people who ought to have known better; the very men

who a year before had testified to the increase of rural crime, now

declaring that any interference with the existing machinery for its

suppression would be disastrous. Amongst the many objections put

forward, some were not very complimentary to the "great unpaid;" it

was argued, for example, that the county justices were comparatively

harmless so long as they wielded that blunt instrument, the parish

constable, but should they be armed with a sharp weapon, such as the

police-constable was admitted to be, no man could foresee the damage

that would result.[208]

Whilst public opinion remained in ferment the Government was surely

well advised to act with caution, by making the adoption of the Act

dependent upon the consent of those whom it was designed to benefit.

In this way much opposition was disarmed, and the care of the infant

institution was entrusted only to those who voluntarily undertook it.

Between 1840 and 1856 the history of rural police divides into two

branches: in the counties which adopted the Permissive Act, the

record is one of almost constant progress towards efficiency; in

the counties which preferred to prolong the defective régime of the

parish-constable, the story is largely one of stagnation, unnecessary

friction, and weak-kneed experiment. Although these tendencies are

so diverse, the migratory habit of criminals makes it impossible

to follow the history of either to the exclusion of the other. No

police system can rightly be considered without constant reference

to neighbouring systems, because every improvement in the police of

one district immediately increases the difficulties of every adjacent

district. The result of the Permissive Act was precisely what might

have been expected, and the situation may be summed up in the single

phrase--crime follows impunity. The influences of pride and local

jealousies proved powerful enough to prevent a complete recantation by

those counties which had pinned their faith to the _status quo ante_,

but they were not sufficiently potent to produce insensibility or

indifference when the day of reckoning came. County magistrates, who in

1840 had refused to set their houses in order, were ready to embrace

almost any expedient by the end of 1842. By this time they were only

too glad to accept the services of police officers, trained in London

or elsewhere, and to entrust them with the task of supervising the

local constables. One of the chief reasons why parochial constables had

become so useless, was because there was no one to keep them up to

their work. The office of High-Constable (finally abolished in 1869)

had long been purely nominal, and Justices of the Peace could hardly

be expected to devote much time or trouble to the unpleasant task of

extracting service out of unwilling agents. In country towns where

watchmen were employed, it was usually the constable's duty to oversee

the watchman, but it was found by experience that the business was so

indifferently performed that a plan, known as the "clock system" had,

in many places, been introduced. This method of supervision consisted

of a mechanical contrivance, in the shape of a clock with a revolving

face: the watchmen were instructed to pull the chain attached to the

clock every time they passed any of the machines during the night.

In the morning, the constable would visit the clocks, and note the

hours at which the chains had been pulled; but as a matter of fact the

check on the watchmen was valueless, because subsequent inquiry showed

that one man could easily attend to three or four clocks. In the more

remote country districts watchmen were seldom or never employed, and

no responsible person conceived it to be his particular business to

supervise the comings or goings of the parish-constables.

Under these circumstances, an attempt was made in 1842 to infuse new

life into the decrepit parochial system by an Act[209] of Parliament,

which ordered Justices of the Peace to hold special sessions for

appointing proper persons to act as parish constables, and which

authorized the employment of new functionaries called Superintending

Constables to have the management of Lock-up Houses, and also the

supervision of all the parish-constables within the Petty Sessional

Division of the county for which they might be appointed--such

superintending constables to receive a fixed salary out of the County

Rates.

The Superintending Constable system was given a fair trial; most

of the counties in England and Wales which refused to adopt the

Permissive Act employing trained stipendiaries to look after their

unpaid and amateurish parochial constables. That the compromise proved

a comparative failure must be attributed not to the shortcomings of

the officers selected, but to the impossibility of the task they were

required to perform. Individually, superintending constables were often

meritorious officers, and they proved so far useful that a substantial

improvement was soon apparent in the police of nearly every county

which employed them; but their exertions, however great, were doomed to

failure because the very unpromising material they had to manipulate

was proof in the long run against the limited powers they were allowed

to exercise.

Without asserting that parish constables were altogether hopeless,

it may be said without fear of contradiction that only the strictest

discipline could have sufficed to render them efficient; but the sole

punishment a superintending constable could inflict on a refractory

subordinate was the very mild one of reporting him to the Justices,

who, in their turn, were powerless to administer anything like adequate

correction. To expect a parochial constabulary to learn efficiency

voluntarily from a superintending constable living in their midst, was

as unreasonable as it would be to look for knowledge in a schoolroom

where a scholar without authority is the teacher.

Whilst this want of control was the chief element of weakness, it was

not the only fault of the system under consideration. For effectual

action, responsibility should be centred if possible in the hands of

one individual, or at all events not equally divided between a dozen or

more participants; yet in counties where the system of superintending

constables obtained, there was no uniformity or general plan, but the

officer of each petty sessional division took his own line, and as long

as he put in an appearance at the Sessions, and visited the various

parishes of his district once a fortnight, no one interfered with him,

or directed his method. It was the custom for the county to provide

each superintending constable with a horse and cart, but, even with

this convenience, the districts were frequently too large for any one

man to supervise; in Kent, for example, a certain division contained

as many as fifty-six different parishes, whilst in Northumberland the

normal area of a single police district was about three hundred square

miles.

Despite its obvious defects, the system was popular: not on account

of any hidden virtue which it may perhaps have possessed, but simply

because the small initial outlay required to start it made it look

cheap: opposition to the alternative system, on the other hand, though

it assumed many garbs, had its root and origin in the false economy

which hopes to avoid paying for the measure of security which it knows

to be indispensable.

The pioneer county, as far as stipendiary police is concerned, was

Cheshire, where a paid constabulary was already ten years old when the

Permissive Act was passed.

At the time of the formation of the metropolitan police, Sir Robert

Peel was anxious to make trial of a similar organization in the

country. His efforts were successful in so far that he obtained the

necessary parliamentary sanction[210] and induced the County Palatine

of Chester to appoint an experimental force; once established, however,

he was unable to exercise any control over its destinies, and the first

rural police developed along lines never intended by its author.

The only point of similarity between the Metropolitan and the Cheshire

Constabularies was that they were both stipendiary bodies; the county

was divided into nine police districts, six of which were identical

with existing Hundreds; each district was under the supervision of a

High-Constable, assisted by from six to eight petty constables. The

whole scheme, therefore, was conceived on a paltry scale; the petty

constables were not selected with sufficient care, they were not

graded, and they wore no uniform; responsibility was not vested in

the hands of any one man, and internal jealousies rendered impossible

that co-operation, which is so necessary to the efficiency of the

whole.[211] One of the reasons why Cheshire was selected as a trial

ground, was because rural crime was more prevalent in that county than

elsewhere; but although some lessons of value were acquired for future

application, as a result of this experiment, it must be confessed that

the Cheshire Constabulary were hardly more successful in preventing

crime than the parish constables had been.

Among those counties which were wise enough to take immediate advantage

of the Permissive Act, the lead was quickly taken by Essex, which

had the good fortune to entrust the control of its rural police to a

really brilliant chief-constable in the person of Captain M'Hardy,

a retired naval officer, who had already done good work for the

Coast-guard service. Taking "efficiency with economy" for his motto,

Captain M'Hardy was able to achieve results which proved that a really

well-managed force could be made self-supporting, or in other words

that an efficient constabulary saves and earns as much as it costs. The

strength of the rural police in Essex averaged about one constable to

every fifteen hundred of the population, and the gross expenses, which

included the erection and maintenance of suitable station-houses, were

from the first considerable; yet the chief-constable claimed that the

net annual cost of the whole establishment was only £80, 6s. 3d. This

sum is surprisingly small, but not so incredible as, at first sight, it

may appear. The figures (which are printed at length in an Appendix to

the 2nd Report of the Select Committee appointed in 1853) were arrived

at by placing on the debit side of the account the gross amount

expended for all police services, and on the credit side, the total

savings and earnings effected by their agency. The largest credit taken

was an item of five thousand pounds odd on account of the decrease of

vagrancy, and the second largest, one of nearly four thousand pounds on

account of the estimated increase in the value of land, calculated at

the rate of only one penny per acre.[212]

The practical difference between the working of the parochial system

and that of the rural police could find no better illustration than

that afforded by a comparison of the extent of vagrancy respectively

existing under the two systems. Formerly parish-constables served at

a loss unless crime was plentiful, and their interest therefore lay

towards the encouragement rather than in the prevention of offences. It

is not suggested that parish constables, as a class, were in the habit

of deliberately manufacturing crime, but instances not infrequently

came to light which proved that such practices were not so exceptional

as they ought to have been. We have it on the authority of the Vagrancy

Commission, that a regular system of fraudulent collusion between

constables and tramps was common as recently as the year 1820.[213]

It appears that at this time parish constables were entitled to ten

shillings for apprehending a vagrant, upon proof being shown that the

latter had either solicited or received money, and the fraud consisted

in a compact between the two by which the constable first gave the

vagrant a penny, and having arrested him as a beggar, claimed the

reward, which was ultimately divided between the conspirators.