A History of Police in England

by W. L. Melville Lee

Early in 1886 London was the scene of a sudden riotous outbreak as serious as it was unexpected. Remarkable from many points of view, it is especially to be remembered on account of the utter failure of the police authorities to cope with it, and especially to be regretted because it was the first of a series of incidents which for many months disturbed the cordial good-will and co-operation between police and public that had been so carefully built up and encouraged through many a year.

A meeting having been advertised to take place in Trafalgar Square on the 8th of February under the auspices of the London United Workmen's Committee, the organizers (who were a respectable body of men desirous only of ventilating their grievances in a legitimate and orderly manner), having reason to fear that certain of the Social Democrats were bent on creating a disturbance, approached the Chief Commissioner with a request that the police might assist them in their efforts to prevent a breach of the peace. Under these circumstances Sir Edmund Henderson decided to have a much larger force in reserve than was usual, and gave orders that whilst only sixty-six constables were to be detailed for duty in Trafalgar Square itself, a force of five hundred and sixty-three police of all ranks was to be held in reserve in the immediate neighbourhood. As soon as the crowd began to assemble it was remarked by some of the most experienced police officers present that a rougher element than usual predominated, but, on the whole, the proceedings in the Square were not of an alarming character, and nothing worse than inflammatory speeches, accompanied by the usual horse-play, took place. Shortly before four o'clock the meeting began to break up, and on this occasion, contrary to all police experience, which was to the effect that crowds invariably return by the same routes that they come by, a compact body some three thousand strong poured out of the Square, and started off in a westerly direction. Rapidly traversing Pall Mall, where several windows were broken, the mob proceeded up St James' Street and down Piccadilly, doing considerable damage by the way. On arriving at Hyde Park, the bulk of the crowd called a halt and speeches were made, but the smaller and more lawless section, finding that no police force offered any resistance to their disorderly career, continued along S. Audley Street into Oxford Street, smashing windows, looting shops, and insulting all whom they met. Eventually, at about five o'clock, a small body of police (only sixteen in number) confronted the mob at the end of Marlborough Lane, and after several vigorous charges, succeeded in dispersing the rioters.

It may well be asked how it came about that for the space of an hour a gang of roughs, which in the end was so easily disposed of, was permitted to riot with impunity through some of the richest thoroughfares of London, in defiance of the considerable force of constables on duty, and in spite of the fact that two regiments of cavalry were within ten minutes ride of the scene. The only possible explanation is to be found in the lamentable want of foresight exhibited on this occasion by the authorities responsible for the police arrangements, combined with the singular lack of initiative and resource shewn by the subordinate officers throughout the day. A cursory glance at the conditions prevailing in Trafalgar Square reveals in a moment the reasons for the defeat of the police; it is at once apparent that their failure must not be attributed to any physical cause whatever. The police force on duty was quite large enough, and the units of which it was composed were sufficiently well endowed with muscle, nerve and morale, to have kept in order a crowd twice as violent and many times more numerous than the one actually opposed to it; the collapse of authority was due to defects of organization, to bad strategy, and to tactical blundering. If a small body of mounted police had been present—if scouts had been instructed to watch the outskirts of the crowd to ascertain and report upon the routes of dispersal—if the officer in command had taken up a prominent position known beforehand to his subordinates—if a system of circulating information rapidly and with accuracy had been adopted—if a single one of these obvious precautions had been taken, the West End Riots would not have occurred, and the crop of difficulties which blocked the path of the Metropolitan Police during the next two years would have been avoided.

On the 9th February another assemblage of roughs took place in Trafalgar Square, and fears that further riots would ensue took possession of the West End; but the police were equal to the emergency, and the meeting was dispersed without difficulty. Wednesday the 10th, however, was a day of serious apprehension; London was wrapped in a dense black fog, and the rumour gained credence that 50,000 desperate men from the riverside suburbs were concentrating prior to an organized attempt to loot the capital. The Bank of England retained its military guard; the Bond Street jewellers and other shopkeepers suspended business and barricaded their windows. Half London waited in hourly expectancy of hearing the shouts of the attacking columns through the fog.

It was clearly the business of the police authorities to satisfy themselves as to the truth or falsity of these rumours, and in the latter case to do all in their power to restore confidence. The course they actually pursued was to send out notices broadcast advising householders to take all precautions necessary for their own safety. This action of the authorities only served to heighten the general alarm, people naturally assuming that it amounted to an official confirmation of the sensational stories that were everywhere current. The state of uncertainty and alarm continued through the night, but when, on the following morning, it became known that the whole story had had no foundation in fact, all the various emotions of the past three days gave place to a unanimous feeling of indignation against the police.

The value of the property destroyed and stolen by the mob, whilst the machinery for keeping the peace was thus temporarily out of gear, was comparatively trivial, and probably fell short of the £7000 paid as compensation; a far more serious factor was the loss of prestige that befell the police. The importance of the Trafalgar Square riots of '86 depends, not so much upon the damage done to Club-house windows and tradesmen's shop-fronts, as upon the fact that this was the first occasion since the institution of the modern police that the mob had succeeded in getting the upper hand of any considerable body of constables. Regrettable incidents had occurred in many of the tussles that had taken place since the first conflict at Coldbath Fields in '33; but on every occasion victory had in the end decisively rested with the peace officers, so that it came to be generally believed that it was useless to resist them. This was the very lesson that the chiefs of the police had been at such pains to impress upon the disorderly section of the public ever since the commencement of the new establishment; and the success they had achieved in this direction had proved greatly to the advantage of the rate-payers, who had to support, in consequence, a much smaller force than would otherwise have been necessary. The policeman managing a hostile crowd, or keeping order in a slum peopled by thieves, is in much the same position as a solitary European holding his own amongst a swarm of Asiatics. Take away his prestige, and that same moment he ceases to be an object of respect, and becomes an object of contempt. The rough and the criminal do not fear the prowess of the individual policeman, they fear the organization behind him—take that away, and the constable becomes merely a big man armed with nothing more formidable than a wooden truncheon.

The result of this temporary and partial breakdown of the organization was that the whole force suffered a double loss; the general public, no longer feeling the old confidence in the power of the police to protect them, withheld to some extent their moral support; whilst the criminal public, assuring themselves that their old belief in the invincibility of the police was groundless, began to threaten where they used to cringe.

It was providential that the enemies of order and good government failed to take full advantage of a moment so auspicious for their designs. The weak places of the defence were exposed for an instant, but the breaches were rapidly repaired and strengthened: in allowing this opportunity to pass, the anarchists and revolutionists, who as a rule are not slow to advertise their existence, missed a chance that is not likely to be offered a second time.

A good deal of inflammatory language was indulged in, but the attacks were ill-timed and unimportant. A large meeting of Socialists, followed by riotous proceedings, took place at Birmingham; but any serious consequences that might have resulted, were averted by a timely display of strength. London was allowed time to recover itself, and it was not until the 21st of February that a mass meeting held in Hyde Park, and attended by some 50,000 people, gave cause for alarm. Fortunately the dangerous classes were not conspicuously represented, and the violently disposed minority was effectually controlled by the police, who, smarting perhaps, under their recent reverse, handled the crowd with some roughness. A week later, rioting of a more serious character broke out in Manchester, to be repeated on a larger scale on March 18th; the local police, however, supported by soldiers, were successful in their efforts to restore order on both occasions.

At the time of the West End riots Parliament was not sitting, and the public indignation found expression in the columns of the newspapers, where a vigorous campaign was commenced, directed partly against the Home Office, and partly against the police authorities. This chorus of irresponsible criticism was to some extent silenced by the prompt action of the Home Secretary (Mr Childers), who immediately appointed a committee, on which he himself sat as chairman, to investigate the conduct of the police. The report, which was issued on the 22nd of Feb. '86, impartially reviewed all the circumstances of the case, and pointed out the mistakes that had been made in the police arrangements. The committee found, amongst other defects, that the chain of responsibility in the force was very imperfect, and called attention to the remarkable fact that, although Standing Police Orders to regulate the conduct of constables at peaceable public meetings had long been issued, no regulations for the management of unruly mobs had ever been published. The report, (upon the authority of which the foregoing remarks on the Trafalgar Square arrangements are based) concluded with a strong expression of opinion as to the desirability of investigating without delay the administration and organization of the Metropolitan Police Force, and the Home Secretary promised to give immediate effect to the recommendations of the Committee by instituting an exhaustive inquiry into the question, with a view to making the necessary changes.