CHAPTER VI.

A NEW CAREER FOR YOUNG MEN.

Up till the present time the police business in the United States has

remained almost exclusively in the hands of a particular class. From

Maine to California one finds practically the same type of man

patrolling a beat, and there is not much difference among the superior

officers of police forces. They all have about the same conceptions of

morality, honesty, and good citizenship, and they differ very little in

their notions of police policy and methods. The thing to do, the

majority of them think, is to keep a city superficially clean, and to

keep everything quiet that is likely to arouse the public to an

investigation. Nearly all are politicians in one form or another, and

they feel that the security of their positions depends on the turn that

politics may take. If they have a strict chief, one who tries to be

honest according to his best light, they are more on their good

behaviour than when governed by an easy-going man, but even under such

circumstances there may be found, in large forces, a great deal of

concealed disobedience. Their main friends and acquaintances are

saloon-keepers, professional politicians, and employees in other

departments of the municipal government. In small towns they mix with

the citizens more than in large cities, but the best of them acquire in

time a caste feeling which impels them to find companionship mainly

among their own kind. Not all are dishonest or lazy, but the majority

have a code of honour suggested by their life and business. Once in the

life, and accustomed to its requirements, it is very difficult for them

to change to another. They have learned how to arrest men, to make

reports, to keep their eyes open or shut according to necessity, to rest

when standing on their feet, and to appreciate the benefits of a

regularly drawn salary, and their intelligence and general training

correspond with such an existence. A few develop extraordinary ability

in ferreting out crime, and become successful detectives, and others

keep their records sufficiently clean, or secure enough "pull," to rise

to superior posts, and in certain cases these exceptional men would fit

into exemplary police organisations. As a general thing, however, they

are men who would have received much less responsible positions in other

walks of life. This is as true of the commanding officers as of the

patrolmen. The captain of a precinct is frequently as poorly educated as

the patrolman serving under him, and his gold braid and brass buttons

are all that really differentiate him from the men he orders about. The

chief, in some instances, is a man of demonstrated ability, but there

are chiefs and chiefs, and the way their selection is managed it is

largely a matter of luck whether a town gets a good or bad one.

Occasionally the citizens of a town will become indignant, and remove

from office a disreputable chief, choosing in his place some highly

respected citizen who has consented to take the position on a "reform

platform" and for awhile the town has a man at the head of its police

force who is accepted as an equal in society and is recognised as an

influential man in municipal affairs, but before long the professional

politicians get hold of the reins of government again, things get back

into the old rut, and the conventional chief returns.

It is this precariousness of the life, and the slavery to politicians,

that have probably deterred educated young men from making police work

their life business. They have seen no chance of holding prominent

police positions long, and they have possibly dreaded the companionship

which a policeman's life seems to presuppose. The young man just out of

college and casting about for a foothold in the world practically never

includes the police career in the number of life activities from which

he must make a choice. It is the law, medicine, journalism, or

railroading which generally attracts him, and he leaves unconsidered

one of the most useful callings in the world. There are few men who are

given more responsible positions, and who have better opportunities of

doing something worth while, than the police officer, and I think that I

ought to add, the prison official. In Germany this fact is recognised,

and men train for police and prison work as deliberately and diligently

as for any other profession; in this country very little training is

done, and the result is that comparatively inferior men get the

important posts, and our cities are not taken care of as they ought to

be, and could be.

There is nothing sufficiently promising as yet in the state of public

opinion to justify one in saying that the time is particularly opportune

for young men to begin to consider the police career as a possible

calling, but I doubt whether there ever will be until the young men take

the matter into their own hands and give public notice of their

determination to enter the profession. Numerous obstacles will be put in

their way, and hundreds will get discouraged, but for those who

"stick," a great career will open up. The beginners must necessarily be

the pioneers and fight the brunt of the battle, but, the battle once

fought, there will be some positions of splendid opportunity.

For the benefit of those who may care to consider seriously the

possibilities of the career, it will not be inappropriate, perhaps, to

describe the kind of men they may expect to have to associate with while

going through their apprenticeship, to explain some of the difficulties

that will be encountered, and to make a few suggestions in regard to the

training necessary for a successful performance of duty. I can write of

these matters only as a beginner, but it is the would-be beginner that I

desire to reach.

In all police organisations supported by cities there are two distinct

kinds of officers, the uniformed men and the detectives. Among these the

beginner will have to pick out his friends, and until he knows well the

work of both classes of men he will be in a quandary as to which he

desires to ally himself with. There are things in the detective's life

which make it more attractive to some men than the policeman's, and

_vice versa_. The two officers have different attitudes toward the

criminal world, and the beginner will probably be decided in his choice

according to the impression the different attitudes make upon him. The

uniformed officer, or "Flatty," as he is called in the thief's jargon,

if he remains upright and honest, arrests a successful professional

criminal with the same _sang-froid_ and objectivity that are

characteristic of him when arresting a "disorderly drunk." It is a

perfunctory act with him; the offender must be shut up, no matter who he

is, and he is the party paid to do it.

The officer in citizen's clothes, the "Elbow," is a different kind of

man. He realises as well as the "Flatty" that it is his business to try

to protect the community which employs him, but he handles a prisoner,

especially if the latter is a nicely dressed and well known thief, in a

different way from the ostentatious manner of arrest characteristic of

the ordinary policeman. It almost seems sometimes as if he were showing

deference to his prisoner, and the two walk along together like two old

acquaintances. The fact of the matter is that a truly successful

professional thief is a very interesting man to meet, and he is all the

more interesting to the officer if he has been able to catch him

unawares and without much trouble. Realising what a big man he has

got,--and thieves themselves have no better opinion of their ability

than that which the detective has of it,--he likes to ask him about

other big men, to get "wise," as the expression is. If it has been a

hard chase, he also likes to go over the details of it, and find out who

has doubled the most on his tracks. In time, if he keeps steadily at the

business and learns to know a number of what are called "good guns"

(clever thieves), he develops into a recognised successful

thief-catcher; but he has spent so much of his time in fraternising with

"guns," in order to learn from them, that he comes to think that his

moral responsibility is over after he has located them. Technically, I

suppose this is true; it is his business to catch, and the State must

prosecute and convict. The point I would bring out, however, is that he

is inclined to be lenient with his prisoner. To him the struggle has

been merely one of intelligence and shrewdness; he has had to be quick

and alert in capturing the "gun," and the latter has exercised all of

his ingenuity in trying to escape. Moral issues have not been at stake;

the thief has not stolen from the officer, and why should the latter not

be friendly when they meet?

In defence of this attitude toward crime it may be said that criminals

are much more tractable in the custody of an officer of the kind under

consideration than when arrested by some blustering "Flatty," who shows

them up in the street as they walk along, and it is natural for a

detective to try to do his work with as little friction as possible. The

question, however, that I was continually putting to myself as a

beginner in the business was, whether I should not eventually drift

into a very easy-going policeman if I learned to look upon the thief

merely as a whetstone, so to speak, on which my wits were to be

sharpened. It seemed to me that to do my full duty it was necessary to

have moral ballast as well as shrewd intelligence, really to believe in

law, and that lawbreakers must be punished. I would not have it

understood that there are no police officers who keep hold of this

point, but I am compelled to say that the detective--and he is the man

to whom we shall have to go before professional crime in this country

can be seriously dealt with--is too much inclined to overlook it.

The beginner in the profession must take sides, one way or another, in

regard to this kind of officer, and as he chooses for him or against him

he will find himself in favour or not with the class--and it is a large

one--to which the man belongs. It is unpleasant to have to begin one's

career by immediately antagonising a number of daily companions, and a

series of exasperating experiences follow such a policy, but in the

case in question I believe it will be found best to nail up one's

colours instanter and never to take them down. The officer who does this

gets the reputation of being at least consistent even among his enemies,

and he is also relieved of being continually approached by criminals

with bribes.

Once started on his course, and his policy defined, the worst difficulty

that he will encounter for a number of months will be a reluctance,

natural to all beginners, to make an arrest. It seems easy enough to

walk up to a man, put a hand lightly on his shoulder, and say: "You're

my prisoner," but one never realises how hard it is until he tries it.

During my experience I had no occasion to make an arrest single-handed,

but it did fall to my lot to have a prisoner beg and beseech me to let

him go after he had been turned over to my care, and to the beginner

this is the hardest appeal to withstand. The majority of persons

arrested are justly taken into custody, and the bulk of the "hard luck"

stories they tell are fabrications, but it takes a man who has been

years in the service to listen to some of their tales of woe without

wincing.

This squeamishness conquered, the beginner will have to be careful not

to become hard and pessimistic. There is a good deal to be said in

excuse of a police officer who develops these traits of character,--the

life he leads is itself often hard,--but if they dominate his nature he

learns to look upon the world in general merely as a great collection of

human beings, any one of whom he may have to arrest some day. He sees so

much that is "crooked" that he is in danger of thinking that he sees

crime and thieves wherever he turns, and unless he is very cautious he

will drift into a philosophy which permits him to be "crooked" also,

because, as he thinks, everybody else is.

If the beginner has lived in a society where courtesies and kindnesses,

rather than insults and scoldings, have prevailed, he will also find it

hard for awhile to appreciate the fact that a police officer is a

peacemaker, and not an avenger. Wherever he goes, and no matter what he

does, he is a target for the nasty slings of rowdies and a favourite

victim of the "roastings" of thieves. In tramp life I have had to take

my share of insults, and until I experimented with the police business I

thought that as mean things had been said to me as a man ought to stand

in an ordinary lifetime, but on no tramp trip have I been berated by

criminals as severely as during my recent experience as a railroad

police officer, and yet it was my duty not to answer back if a quarrel

was in sight.

Not all, however, in the policeman's life is exasperating and

discouraging. But few men have so many opportunities of doing good, and

of keeping track of people in whom they have taken an interest. Nothing

has pleased me more in my relations with the outcast world than the

chance I had as a railroad patrolman to help in sending home a penitent

runaway boy. He had left Chicago on the "blind baggage" of a passenger

train to get away from a tyrannical stepfather, and he fell into our

hands as a trespasser and vagrant several hundred miles from his

starting-point. It was a pitiful case with which no officer likes to

deal according to the requirements of the law, but we had to arrest him

to rescue him from the local officers of the town where he had been

apprehended; if he had been turned over to them the probability is that

he would have been put on the stone-pile with the hardened tramps, and

when released would have drifted into tramp life. We took him to

headquarters on the train, and the general manager of the railroad gave

him a pass home, where he has remained, sending me a number of weekly

accounts about himself. I report the incident both to show the

opportunities in a policeman's life, and to give a railroad company

credit for a kind deed which has probably preserved for the country a

bright lad who would otherwise have been an expense and trouble to it as

a vagabond and criminal.

A word, before closing this chapter, in regard to how a young man,

desirous of following the police career, can best get a start. I chose a

railroad police force for my preliminary experience, and I would

recommend a similar choice to other beginners if the opportunity is

favourable. As long as a man does his work well in a railroad police

organisation he is not likely to be disturbed, but under existing

conditions the same cannot be said of a municipal force. A railroad

officer also has the advantage of being able to travel extensively and

to acquaint himself with different communities. If he can rise to the

top there is no reason, so far as I can see, why he should not be an

eligible candidate for the superintendency of a municipal police force.

The chief that I had, if he were able to gather the right men about him,

could protect a large city as successfully as he now protects a big

railroad system. If it is impossible for a would-be beginner to find

lodgment in any police force at the start, my suggestion is that he

experiment with the work of a police reporter on a newspaper. It is

difficult at present for a police reporter to tell all that he learns,

and it is to be hoped that he will some day be able to give the readers

of his paper full accounts of his investigations; but the young man who

is training for police work can make the reporter's position, in spite

of its present discouraging limitations, a stepping-stone to a position

in a police organisation. It helps him to get "wise," as the detective

says, and it is when he has become "wise" in the full sense of the word

that he is most valuable in the police business.

A guard's position in a penitentiary makes a man acquainted with a great

many criminals, and is helpful in teaching one in regard to the

efficiency of different kinds of punishment. It is, perhaps, to be

recommended to the beginner as the next best position to try for, if,

after the reporter experience, there is still no opening in a police

force. The beginner may not be sure whether he desires to become a

police officer or to take part in the management of a prison, and the

guard's post helps him to come to a decision.

All three of the recommended preparatory positions will be found useful,

if the young man has the patience and time to go through the drudgery

which they involve, and he will find that when he finally succeeds in

getting into a large police force he has a great advantage over men who

have not had his thorough training.

Notes of an Itinerant Policeman · 第 6 / 12 章