A History of Police in England

by W. L. Melville Lee

It is not to be wondered at if during the troubles which befell the nation in King Charles' reign, police suffered in common with all other institutions. Internal peace was not likely to thrive during those eleven years whilst no Parliament was summoned, whilst Wentworth was devoting his energies towards the creation of a standing army that was to make the Crown absolute, whilst soldiers were billeted broadcast on unwilling inhabitants, and as long as in many districts martial law continued to supersede the ancient judicial system.

The keynote of Charles' policy was, from the first, a determination to raise money by hook or by crook, wherever the cost might fall, and to this end, one field of trickery after another was exploited. One device (1626) was to make Sheriffs of those of his opponents whom the King feared, so as to secure their detention in their own counties; another was an attempt (1640) to reintroduce the forest laws, by determining afresh the boundaries of the royal forests,[120] and re-insisting on their old-time privileges for the sake of the revenues accruing therefrom. Amercements were collected with an energy that was not content until the uttermost farthing had been gleaned: offences against the licensing laws were usually punished by fines, and the income arising from this source was not small, so it was enacted,[121] that if offenders did not pay up within six days, they were to be delivered to the constable to be whipped, and if the constable failed to execute his warrant, he was to be committed to prison by the Justice until he should induce someone else to do it for him.

Before approaching the subject of the Civil War and its after-consequences, it will, perhaps, not be out of place to pause for a moment, and looking back on the history of the past, to enquire, how much of the ancient police system of England survived at this period, how much of it was dormant, and what portions had altogether disappeared.

The Tything could no longer be said to exist: the increase of population, the growth of trade, and the improved facilities for moving from one part of the country to another, having rendered the retention of such a small sub-division impracticable. The parish took the place of the tything, and the parish-constable filled, to some extent, the position once held by the tythingman. We have seen how the office of constable, which theoretically ought to fall to all the inhabitants in rotation ("Religious Persons, Knights, Clerkes and Women" only excepted) came to be generally executed by paid, and practically permanent substitutes; but it must not be forgotten that the liability of the principal was not at an end, nor the appointment of the substitute valid, unless the transfer was approved by the inhabitants, and until it was duly confirmed by the proper authority.

The decay of frank-pledge, as a practical system, had long been complete, but the general principle remained, and now and again we come across attempts at revival and other indications, which prove that the Saxon régime was not entirely forgotten. In his "Customs of the City of London," published in 1642, Sir Henry Colthrop quotes from Liber Albus: "A large Charter is granted for the liberties of Southwark, and for correction of offences there, with a view of Franck-pledge with arrests, and to bring the offenders to Newgate."[122]

Writing in the first half of the seventeenth century, Minsheu says that "Inlaugh signifieth him that is in some Franke-pledge," and goes on to remark that "Decennier is not now used for the Chiefe man of a Dozen, but for him that is sworn to the King's Peace ... and that no man ordinarily giveth other securities for the keeping of the King's Peace, but his owne oath, and that therefore none answereth for another's transgression, but every man for himself—and for the generall ground this may suffice."[123] The exceptions here implied, refer no doubt to the custom of binding over an offender to keep the peace. "Inlaugh" is obviously the antithesis of the more familiar "Outlaw," whilst "Dozen" is used in its original sense of "Ten," and has nothing to do with the number "Twelve."

The liability of the Hundred to compensate the sufferers for the damages done therein still held good,[124] and constables had never been relieved, by Statute or otherwise, of their constitutional duty of presenting offences at the court of the Hundred or Leet. The High Constable was the chief executive officer of the Hundred, but as the scope of his office has been fully set forth in the form of oath already quoted, his exact position need not be further enlarged on, except to say that his disciplinary powers over the petty-constables seem to have been very limited. The Justices decided what the petty-constables were to do, and how they were to do it, despite the fact that the High Constable was the man who was responsible for the due conservation of the peace in his district: he had, in short, most of the responsibilities of a modern Chief Constable, with no power of appointing, dismissing, or controlling his assistants.

The obligation of all to bear arms had been re-enforced by Statute as recently as the year 1557,[125] and this liability remained the law of the land, at least nominally so, until the eighteenth century.

The Statute of Winchester defined the law as to Watch and Ward as heretofore, and although of course its precise regulations were no longer adhered to in detail, but modified continually with the changing circumstances of the times, no fresh authoritative declaration was issued on the subject.