Previous to 1805, when an unarmed police was established for the protection of the streets, the Town-guard had consisted of three equally large companies, each with a lieutenant (complimentarily called captain) at its head. Then it was a somewhat more respectable body, not only as being larger, but invested with a really useful purpose. The unruly and the vicious stood in some awe of a troop of men bearing lethal weapons, and generally somewhat frank in the use of them. If sometimes roughly handled on kings’ birthdays and other exciting occasions, they in their turn did not fail to treat cavalierly enough any unfortunate roisterer whom they might find breaking the peace. They had, previous to 1785, a guard-house in the middle of the High Street, the ‘black hole’ of which had rather a bad character among the bucks and the frail ladies. One of their sergeants in those days, by name John Dhu, is commemorated by Scott as the fiercest-looking fellow he ever saw. If we might judge from poor Robert Fergusson, they were truly formidable in his time. He says:
‘And thou, great god o’ aquavitæ,
Wha sway’st the empire o’ this city; ...
Be thou prepared
To hedge us frae that black banditti,
The City-guard.’
He adds, apostrophising the irascible veterans:
‘Oh, soldiers, for your ain dear sakes,
For Scotland’s love—the land o’ cakes—
Gi’e not her bairns sae deadly paiks,