A History of Police in England

by W. L. Melville Lee

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.