1. Be careful to acquaint yourself with the best means of exit from
the house both at the top and bottom.
2. On the first alarm, reflect before you act. If in bed at the time,
wrap yourself in a blanket, or bedside carpet; open no more doors or
windows than are absolutely necessary, and shut every door after you.
3. There is always from eight to twelve inches of pure air close to
the ground: if you cannot therefore walk upright through the smoke,
drop on your hands and knees, and thus progress. A wetted silk
handkerchief, a piece of flannel, or a worsted stocking drawn over the
face, permits breathing, and, to a great extent, excludes the smoke.
4. If you can neither make your way upwards nor downwards, get into a
front room: if there is a family, see that they are all collected
here, and keep the door closed as much as possible, for remember that
smoke always follows a draught, and fire always rushes after smoke.
5. On no account throw yourself, or allow others to throw themselves,
from the window. If no assistance is at hand, and you are in
extremity, tie the sheets together, and, having fastened one end to
some heavy piece of furniture, let down the women and children one by
one, by tying the end of the line of sheets round the waist and
lowering them through the window that is over the door, rather than
through one that is over the area. You can easily let yourself down
when the helpless are saved.
6. If a woman's clothes should catch fire, let her instantly roll
herself over and over on the ground; if a man be present, let him
throw her down and do the like, and then wrap her in a rug, coat, or
the first _woollen_ thing that is at hand.
7. Bystanders, the instant they see a fire, should run for the
fire-escape, or to the police station if that is nearer, where a
"jumping-sheet" is always to be found.
Dancers, and those that are accustomed to wear light muslins and other
inflammable articles of clothing, when they are likely to come in contact
with the gas, would do well to remember, that by steeping them in a
solution of alum they would not be liable to catch fire. If the rule were
enforced at theatres, we might avoid any possible recurrence of such a
catastrophe as happened at Drury Lane in 1844, when poor Clara Webster was
so burnt before the eyes of the audience, that she died in a few days.
During the twenty-one years that the Brigade has been in existence the
firemen have been called out needlessly no less than 1,695 times, often
indeed mischievously; for there are some idle people who think it amusing
to send the men and engines miles away to imaginary fires. In most cases,
however, these false alarms have originated in the over-anxiety of
persons, who have hastened to the station for assistance, deceived by
lights which they fancied to be of a suspicious character. Nature herself
now and then gives a false alarm, and puts the Brigade to infinite trouble
by her vagaries. Not only the men at one station, but nearly half of the
entire force, were employed in November, 1835, from 11 P.M. to 6 A.M. on
the succeeding morning, in running after the _aurora borealis_. Some of
the dozen engines out on that occasion reached as far as Kilburn and
Hampstead in search of those evanescent lights, which exactly simulated
extensive fires. In the succeeding year the red rays of the rising sun
took in some credulous members of the Brigade, and led them with their
engines full swing along the Commercial and Mile-End Roads. Whilst on this
false scent they came upon a real fire, which, although inferior to great
Sol himself in grandeur, was far more remunerative, as the God of Morning
knows nothing about rewards to first, second, and third engines.
The most remarkable and universal false alarm caused by the play of the
northern lights was in the autumn of this same year, when the whole
north-eastern horizon seemed possessed by an angry conflagration, from
which huge clouds of smoke appeared to roll away. On this occasion the
public, as well as the firemen, were deceived: crowds poured forth from
the West-end on foot and in carriages to see what they imagined to be a
grand effect of the "devouring element;" and thirteen engines turned out
with the full impression that a whole suburb of the metropolis was in
flames.
The alarms from chimneys on fire have called the engines out no less than
1,982 times during the years the Brigade has been established, or on an
average twice a week. Let us hope that, as we are setting about clearing
the atmosphere by Act of Parliament, accidents of this kind will gradually
cease. We may now watch with satisfaction many a tall shaft, as we steam
down the river, that seems to stand idle in the air; the great rolling
clouds of smoke that used to obscure the sky on the southern bank of the
Thames are no longer seen, and the air is growing appreciably purer. It is
evident that our manufacturers, where they have not become alive to the
saving it would effect, have been coerced by the vigorous manner in which
the Home Secretary has put the law in force against these black offenders;
and we may hope that Dr. Arnott's smoke-consuming grate, or some
modification of it, will ere long find its way into every house to
complete the work.
THE POLICE AND THE THIEVES.
Most men who have arrived at that age when the last one or two buttons of
the waistcoat are allowed to be unloosened after dinner, can remember the
time when the safety of life and property in the metropolis depended on
the efforts of the parochial watchman, a species of animal after the model
of the old hackney coachman, encumbered with the self same drab greatcoat,
with countless capes, with the self same Belcher handkerchief, or
comforter, speaking in the same husky voice, and just as sottish, stupid,
and uncivil. At night--for it was not thought worth while to set a watch
in the day-time--the authorities provided him with a watch-box in order
that he might enjoy his snooze in comfort, and furnished him with a huge
lantern in order that its rays might enable the thief to get out of his
way in time. As if these aids to escape were not sufficient for the
midnight marauder, the watchman was provided with a staff with which he
thundered on the pavement as he walked, a noise which he alternated with
crying the hour and the state of the weather in a loud singing voice, and
which told of his whereabouts when he himself was far out of sight.
Up to the year 1828, and indeed for ten years later, in the city these men
were the sole defence by night of the first metropolis in the world. The
Charlies, as they were familiarly termed, had very little fight in them at
any time; but it is well known that they "winked hard," when required to
do so by people who could afford to pay them for it. It is not astonishing
that crimes under such a police flourished apace, or that robberies
increased to an extent which alarmed all thoughtful people. Mr.
Colquhoun, a magistrate, whose work on the police, written at the
beginning of the century, gave the first ideas of the reforms which have
been since adopted; estimates that the annual value of the property stolen
at the time at which he wrote, was at least 1,500,000_l._; and that the
evil was gaining ground may be judged from the fact that the number of
receivers of stolen goods had increased, between 1780 and 1800, from 300
to 3,000!
In addition to the nightly watch there was another class of persons who,
if more active, were calculated in a still greater degree to defeat
justice, but in a totally opposite direction: we allude to those men who
made their bread out of the blood of the criminal population. The
Government of the country was mainly to blame for the sins committed by
these loathsome creatures. Since the time of Jonathan Wild thief-catchers
had been stimulated to make criminals by what was termed Parliamentary
rewards, or sums of forty pounds given by the Home Office to persons
affording such information as would lead to the conviction of felons. The
object of the officers was to secure blood-money, not to suppress crime;
and it was their deliberate practice to allow robberies to proceed, which
they might have prevented, in order to obtain the reward. To use their own
language, they were accustomed "to let the matter ripen" until the fee was
secure, and the work was cut out for the hangman. These men must not be
confounded with the Bow Street runners, or detective police, some of whom
were able and perhaps honest men; but they chiefly occupied themselves
with thief-catching in private preserves, where the pay was ample, and
contributed little if anything to the suppression of general crime.
With a class of watchmen totally inoperative as a preventive police, with
a class of informers stimulated by unwise enactments to lure men into
villany, and with a code savage almost beyond belief--as late as 1800
there were 160 capital crimes, and to break the dam of a fish-pond, or to
cut down an apple-tree in a garden, were offences punishable with death;
it is not to be wondered at that "the deadly never-green," as the gallows
was called in the slang language of the day, bore fruit all the year
round. Old Townsend, the Bow Street officer, who gave evidence before the
committee which sat in 1816 to inquire into the police of the metropolis,
said, "I remember in 1783, when Serjeant Adair was recorder, there were
forty hung at two executions; the unfortunate people themselves laugh at
it now, they call it a bagatelle." Among the more serious offences were
the robberies committed by mounted highwaymen; and, in order to give an
idea of their frequency, we again quote the racy evidence of
Townsend:--"Formerly there were two, three, or four highwaymen--some on
Hounslow Heath, some on Wimbledon Common, some on Finchley Common, some on
the Romford Road. I have actually come to Bow Street in the morning, and
while I have been leaning over the desk had three or four people come in
and say, 'I was robbed by two highwaymen in such a place;' 'I was robbed
by a single highwayman in such a place.' People travel safe now by means
of the horse-patrol, which was planned by Sir Richard Ford." This
horse-patrol, established in 1805, was the first innovation on the old
system of watching; and it succeeded so admirably, that in a few years the
highwaymen were entirely banished from the metropolitan counties, and the
great roads in the neighbourhood of London, which were once as unsafe as
those in the vicinity of Rome, became as orderly as Fleet Street. It does
indeed seem strange that while the outskirts of the metropolis were thus
provided with a new force which proved itself to be perfectly capable of
clearing away the ruffians, no means should have been taken until 1829 to
supersede the old parish constables who had flourished from the time of
the Saxons, and appear to have been in full bloom in Elizabeth's reign,
since Dogberry is a finished portrait of the race. No means existed by
which the watchmen of different parishes could be made to co-operate
against their common enemy, the thief. In the city they were under the
direction of no less than thirty different authorities. There were the
street-keepers, the patrol, the ward-constables, &c., all acting under
separate masters; and so complete was the division that the constable of
one ward would not interfere to prevent a robbery going on on the opposite
side of the street, if it was out of his bounds.
Mr. J. Elliot, in his evidence, given in 1838, before the Committee on
"The Metropolis Police Offices," mentions a glaring instance of the
perfect paralysis of the executive which arose out of this absurd system.
"Two years ago," he said, "a neighbour of mine had his warehouse broken
open, and a hundred pounds' worth of tea was taken away; a watchman at the
top of the street saw a cart going away from the warehouse; but he said it
was not in his ward, and therefore he did not interfere." The public
indisposition to get rid of the old watchmen most certainly did not arise
from any ignorance of their inefficiency; they had long, in fact, been
bywords of feebleness and imbecility. To thrash a Charlie was a pet
pastime of the young bloods of that day. The determined propensity to doze
of these worthy functionaries was a standing topic for witticism. "A
friend of mine," said Erskine, "was suffering from a continual
wakefulness, and various methods were taken to send him to sleep, but in
vain. At last his physicians resorted to an experiment which succeeded
perfectly. They dressed him in a watchman's coat, put a lantern in his
hand, and placed him in a sentry-box, and he was asleep in ten minutes."
It might be imagined that tokens like these indicated pretty clearly that
a reform would have been hailed with delight. The result proved, however,
that to abuse a thing and to amend it are widely different. Mr. Peel, who
had been feeling his way to his grand experiment by the establishment of a
Bow-street day patrol, obtained in 1828 the appointment of a committee of
the House of Commons to inquire into the expediency of establishing a
uniform system of police in the metropolis; and the committee having
reported to the House in favour of the scheme, it was immediately adopted.
This salutary change was not made without creating a deep sensation. That
stalking-horse, "the liberty of the subject," which in truth meant the
liberty of rogues to plunder, was immediately paraded before the public;
and we have no doubt whatever that in the tavern debating-clubs of the day
it was reported that with the fall of the Charlies "the sun of England's
glory had set for ever." And indeed to Englishmen, jealous of their
personal liberty, the establishment of this new force might at first have
created some well-founded alarm. It was no longer a question of a few
constables, but of a standing army of nearly six thousand men, drilled
like soldiers, taught to act in masses, and entirely independent of the
control of the ratepayers. The very fact of the appointment, as one of the
Commissioners, of Colonel Rowan, who had been employed in that
quasi-military force the Irish constabulary, favoured the idea that the
new police were to be a veritable _gendarmerie_. That such was the popular
idea was clearly indicated by the numerous prints which appeared at the
time of a fierce-looking "Peeler," armed with a belt full of pistols and a
formidable sword.
Those accustomed only to the slow pace of the constitutional watchman, as
he waddled out to his post, beholding with astonishment the sergeant's
party as it marched along the kerb in close file, and keeping quick
military step, believed that so powerful a force, concentrated under a
single head, might be turned to political purposes. The constables never
appeared in the streets without being followed by crowds hooting at them,
and calling them by the obnoxious names of "Peelers," "Raw Lobsters,"
"Crushers," "Bobbies," &c. At last, in 1833, an actual collision took
place between them and the great unwashed in Coldbath Fields. A meeting of
Chartists was appointed to be held there, from which serious consequences
were expected to arise. Directions were given to disperse it; but whilst
in the performance of their duty three of the police were stabbed, and one
of them mortally. It might have been thought that the very fact of a mob
coming thus armed, with the express purpose of resisting a constituted
authority, would have excited the indignation of the more respectable
classes of the citizens. The contrary was the effect. A coroner's jury
brought in a verdict of justifiable homicide--a pretty significant sign of
the feeling towards the new force of the class from which the jury was
selected. Such was the ferment that a commission was held to inquire into
the conduct of the police, and they were exonerated from the charge of
having, as a body, acted with greater violence than was necessary. From
that period, with the exception of the investigation during the Beer Bill
commotion into the charge of having dispersed a gathering in Hyde Park
with undue severity--a charge which was not at all substantiated--their
conduct has been so exemplary as completely to have removed the original
dislike. Experience has served to teach the men the virtue of moderation
and patience; and they are now looked upon as a constitutional force,
simply because we have got accustomed to them.
At the present time the Metropolitan Police Force consists of--a Chief
Commissioner, Sir Richard Mayne; 2 Assistant-Commissioners, Captain
Labalmondiere and Captain Harris; 18 Superintendents, 133 Inspectors, 625
Sergeants, and 4,954 Constables; making a total of all ranks of 5,734. The
machinery by which this comparatively small force is enabled to watch by
night and day every alley, street, and square of this vast metropolis,
nay, tries every accessible door and window of its 400,000 houses, patrols
90 square miles of country, exercises a surveillance over the 8,000
reputed thieves who prey upon its inhabitants, and keeps in awe the 40,000
or 50,000 people who form "the uneasy classes" of the metropolis, is not
very complicated. The metropolitan police district extends from Charing
Cross 15 miles in every direction, and includes the whole of Middlesex and
large portions of Surrey, Hertfordshire, Essex, Kent, Buckinghamshire, and
Berkshire, for which seven counties the Commissioners are magistrates and
the police are sworn constables. The river Thames is also under its
jurisdiction from Chelsea to Barking Creek, including all its wharves,
docks, landing-places, and dockyards. The entire district has a
circumference of 90 miles, and extends over an area of 700 square miles,
100 of which, forming what is called the interior area, is covered with
our great Babel of brick and mortar. This wide extent of ground is mapped
out into 18 divisions, each of which is watched by a detachment of men,
varying in number according to the extent of the area, the exposed nature
of the property, or the density of the population:--
_Letters of_ _Local Names of_ _Strength of each_
_Divisions._ _Divisions._ _Division._
A Whitehall 380
B Westminster 324
C St. James's 265
D St. Mary-le-bone 371
E Holborn 175
F Covent Garden 165
G Finsbury 317
H Whitechapel 233
K Stepney 482
L Lambeth 208
M Southwark 350
N Islington 513
P Camberwell 408
R Greenwich 454
S Hampstead 410
T Kensington 288
V Wandsworth 381
Thames Police 103
This it will be seen that policeman X, who figures so often in the pages
of "Punch," is a myth of our facetious contemporary.
Each division is separated into subdivisions, the subdivisions into
sections, and, last of all the sections into beats. Of the main divisions,
A, although one of the smallest in area, is by far the most important; it
is the seat of the central authority located at Scotland Yard. Its police
are much finer men (taller on the average than the Guards), and their
duties are more responsible than those of any other division. They attend
upon the Sovereign, the Parliament, the theatres, the parks, and all other
places of public resort, such as Epsom and Ascot races, the flower shows,
Crystal Palace, &c. The A division is, in fact, to the general body of
Metropolitan Police what the Guards are to the army. To enable it to
perform these extra duties, it has a reserve force of 250 men, drafted off
on ordinary occasions in companies of fifty each to the B, C, D, G, and M
divisions; upon this reserve force it draws when necessary.
The other divisions are pretty much alike in the nature of their duties,
which are simply those of watching. Certain modifications, however, arise
from the character of their districts; thus a constable on duty at
Whitechapel, if suddenly removed to Westminster or Mary-le-bone, would
find himself considerably at fault, inasmuch as a familiarity with fights
in courts, disputes with tramps, and the coarse language of low
lodging-houses, is not a good school for the amenities required among a
more fashionable population. In all the divisions exactly the same
organization is maintained, and the same amount of arduous work is
performed. Two-thirds of the entire force is on duty from nine or ten in
the evening till five or six in the morning. Not long since the
night-police were condemned to patrol the streets for nine hours, without
sitting down, or even leaning their weary limbs against any support. This
severe labour was found incompatible with the maintenance of due vigilance
towards the end of the watch; the men are, therefore, now kept on duty
only eight hours. Day work is divided into reliefs, and extends from six
a.m. to nine p.m. Notwithstanding its greater severity, there are men who
prefer the stolid unimpeded walk in the night, in which they go through
their work like machines, to the more bustling and exciting day-patrol.
The sergeants or inspectors make the round of the districts to see that
the constables are duly parading their beats.
If a door or window is discovered in an unsafe condition, its insecurity
is immediately made known to the inmates; and if the constable fails to
detect the circumstance during his tour, and it is afterwards observed by
his sergeant or the succeeding constable, he is reported, and fined for
his neglect. Continued inattention is visited by dismissal. Offences of
every kind are severely punished, as appears from the fact that, between
the years 1850 and 1856, 1,276 policemen were turned out of the force. Of
these, sixty-eight were criminally convicted. Thus the men are kept up to
their work, and collusions with thieves are rendered exceedingly
difficult. Every morning a sheet of "Occurrences" is forwarded to the
Chief Commissioner at Scotland Yard, which contains the full particulars
of all matters worthy of notice which have taken place during the night
throughout the metropolis, and a record of all property lost or stolen,
from a gold pin to a chest of plate, is kept at the same central
establishment.
In case any affair of unusual importance occurs, a murder or a great
robbery, the intelligence is conveyed by the constable who first becomes
cognizant of it, to the central station of his division; from this point
the news is radiated by policemen carrying what are termed route-papers,
or papers of particulars of the offence, on the backs of which are marked
the hour at which they were received at the different divisions through
which they passed. In this manner information can be circulated in two
hours to all the stations, excepting those belonging to the exterior or
suburban districts. In these reports are given the names of the constables
who were on the beats in which the offence took place, the sergeants in
charge of the sections, and the names of the constables whose particular
business it was to trace the offenders as far as possible. We understand,
however, that the electric telegraph is now shooting its nerve-like
threads to all the divisional stations in the metropolis, and, when the
new agent is brought to bear, the communication will be almost
instantaneous. Thus, in case of robbery, every constable will be made
acquainted with the particulars without a moment's delay, and the
police-net will be thrown at one cast over the entire metropolis. Thieves
will no longer be able to get away with their plunder, ere a hue and cry
has been raised after the property. Had the telegraph been in existence,
in all probability Her Majesty's plate-chest would have been intercepted
before it reached the field where it was ransacked in Shoreditch. In cases
of riot of a formidable nature, the telegraph will be able to concentrate
5,000 men in a couple of hours upon any spot within five miles of Charing
Cross.