A History of Police in England

by W. L. Melville Lee

Six years later more important changes, affecting the police of counties as well as that of boroughs, were introduced by the Local Government Act of 1888,[265] which transferred the control of the rural police from the Justices of the Peace in Quarter Sessions to an annually appointed committee (called the Standing Joint Committee) composed of a certain number of County Councillors, selected by and from the members of the new councils, and of an equal number of Justices chosen by Quarter Sessions. The effect of this Statute was not simply to substitute one consultative body for another, for to the Standing Joint Committee was also conveyed all that authority over the county police which had hitherto been enjoyed by Justices out of Session, the important proviso being added, however, that "nothing in this Act shall affect the powers, duties, and liabilities of Justices as Conservators of the Peace, or the obligation of the Chief Constable or other Constables to obey their lawful orders given in that behalf."[266]

Although local government in township, hundred and shire is as old as the Constitution itself, the birthday of the modern county councils in 1888 is from the historian's point of view an event of the first importance, for it deprived the county magistracy of a prerogative which for more than five hundred years had been steadily growing in completeness, by suddenly transferring the destinies of the rural police to a body that owed the half of its authority to the popular vote of the shire. From the standpoint of the practical politician, on the other hand, the change has so far proved but an incident; and, for all the effect it has produced on the actual efficiency and on the daily routine of the police forces concerned, it has passed almost unnoticed. Standing Joint Committees have accepted and carried on the traditions which they inherited; and the administration of the county police remains much the same to-day as it was when the entire control was vested in the county magistrates, who, no longer overweighted by a mass of general—as distinguished from judicial—business, are now free to devote themselves to their proper duties as conservators of the peace.

By the first Municipal Corporations Act, any borough so disposed was allowed a separate police force on the understanding that, in the case of towns containing less than five thousand inhabitants, all expense connected with the maintenance of such forces should be borne by the borough availing itself of the privilege. In 1888, this power of choice was restricted, and all boroughs, which at the last census failed to show a population of 10,000, were amalgamated for police purposes with the county to which they belonged; if, however, any borough entitled to have its own police prefers amalgamation, it is permitted to contract with the Standing Joint Committee of the county in which it is situated for the establishment of a consolidated constabulary under the general disposition and government of the Chief Constable of that county, the powers of the Watch Committee remaining in abeyance as long as the contract lasts. A larger measure of autonomy was secured by the Local Government Act to certain boroughs, called County-Boroughs, being those which were either counties in themselves before the passing of the Act, or had an estimated population of at least 50,000 on the 1st of June 1888. As, however, the police of a County-Borough is for all practical purposes on the same basis as one maintained by any other town, that controls a separate constabulary, it is unnecessary further to enlarge upon this part of the subject. It is sufficient to state that in 1899 one hundred and twenty-four English and Welsh boroughs possessed independent police forces, and that out of this number sixty-one were county-boroughs.

At the present time there are only two portions of the United Kingdom that do not manage their own police. Ireland is one and London is the other. Ireland is not allowed the privilege for reasons with which we are not here concerned, but which have been succinctly put by a politician who is not ill-disposed towards that country, "If Kerry was treated as Northumberland," said he, "Kerry must control her police, and if Kerry controlled her police, there was an end of law and order."[267] The case of London is altogether different: when the Local Government Act readjusted the command exercised by the various local authorities over their county and borough police forces, the Metropolitan area was especially exempted from provisions that applied elsewhere. A County of London, carved out of the counties of Middlesex, Surrey and Kent, was called into being on the 1st of January 1889, but its area did not coincide with the Metropolitan Police District, nor was the London County Council given any voice in the management of London's constabulary.

This anomalous position of the Metropolitan Police, governed as it is by a Chief Commissioner appointed by the Home Office and independent of municipal control, has ever since been a subject for controversy amongst local politicians. Members of the progressive party have held that the control of the police ought to be transferred from the Government to the London County Council; and, in support of the desired change, argue that as the ratepayers find the money they should have a voice in its expenditure; they contend that it is an insult to London that she alone amongst the great towns of England is debarred from the management of her own constabulary. At first sight it would appear reasonable to extend to London the same measure of self-government in police matters that provincial towns enjoy; but the answer of those who are content with the present arrangement is that the Metropolitan Police is an Imperial rather than a local force—provincial towns and districts have only provincial interests to guard, London has responsibilities as wide as the Empire; and however public-spirited local authorities may be, the danger will always remain that they may be induced to prefer local to national interests. The Houses of Parliament, the British Museum, public offices and foreign embassies happen to be in London, but they are not local institutions: the head-quarters of the Criminal Investigation Department is no more inseparable from Scotland Yard than is parliament from Westminster: London is the focus of crime and it is convenient that it should also be the head-quarters of the machinery for its prevention, but that is no reason why the principal detective agency of England should be subordinated to Spring Gardens influences. The inhabitants of Canterbury might as well aspire to the control of the National Church on the strength of their pride of See, as Londoners insist that the Metropolis must bear the responsibilities of the National Police. It is repeated that the ratepayers of London pay for the Metropolitan force; but this is only partly true. It would be more correct to say that they pay half the bill, and, in return, they obtain the protection they pay for, the Imperial Treasury providing the balance.[268]

It has been suggested that a fair compromise might be found in a division of the responsibility, by giving the London County Council control over a moiety of the force for local purposes, and transferring to that body the authority to license hackney-carriages, pedlars and lodging houses together with the management of street traffic, &c., &c., whilst retaining a separate police establishment for imperial purposes; but there is little doubt that such a change would only lead to friction, and might conceivably bring about a recrudescence of that jealousy which was the bane of the old parochial system.

The whole question is complicated by the independent position that the City of London has been allowed to retain. From many points of view it would be advantageous to concentrate the entire police of the metropolis under one and the same administration, and to some amalgamation seems desirable for the sake of uniformity, if for no better reason; but regularity in our institutions is not in itself a great end to strive for, and it would be prodigal of labour to tinker with our going concerns merely to eliminate deviations from the normal. Against amalgamation much can be urged. The city wishes to retain its ancient privilege of policing itself, and as long as it maintains an efficient force entirely at its own expense, the government is not likely to interfere. The matter is largely one of finance. Under the existing arrangements, three-quarters of the total cost of the City police is raised in the city by a local police rate, and the remaining quarter is subscribed by the Corporation out of its revenue; if, however, the control was transferred to the Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, the city would only have to pay five-ninths of the total cost instead of the whole amount as at present—or putting it in another light, amalgamation would cost the Imperial Treasury more than fifty thousand pounds a year, which sum is the price that the city now pays for the privilege of managing its own police. A second objection to amalgamation is that the Justice Rooms at Mansion House and Guildhall are presided over by magistrates who are experts in commercial jurisdiction, and consequently the usefulness of these courts would be to some extent impaired if they became ordinary metropolitan police courts.

Modern police in the City of London dates from 1839, in which year, it will be remembered, the Corporation awoke to the necessity of reorganization, and so escaped the consolidating process that had already absorbed all the other independent and semi-independent police establishments within the 688 square miles that surround Charing Cross. Since then the advisability of fusing together the two London police forces has often been debated, and after the death of Sir Richard Mayne in 1869 the threatened amalgamation would have become a fait accompli had the Government been ready to acquiesce in the suggestion made by the Corporation that the City Commissioner should be promoted to the command of the proposed combination. In 1894 the Royal Commission on the Unification of London reported in favour of bringing the whole of the police of the metropolis under one administration; but its advice has not yet been acted upon, nor is there any immediate prospect of its recommendations being carried into effect. If, however, the City authorities should at any time fail to keep up the high standard of police that they have hitherto maintained they would certainly lose their historic privilege of police independence, and the knowledge of this fact contributes to the undoubted efficiency of the force they control. At the present day both the metropolitan and city forces rightly consider themselves corps d'elite, and a proper rivalry exists between them, which is at once creditable in itself and advantageous to the public interest. We have said that the ultimate authority over the city police rests with the Corporation. It may however be remarked that the appointment of any person has to be ratified by the Crown before he is confirmed in the Commissionership, and that practically speaking the powers possessed by the Corporation are exercised by proxy. To a Police Committee consisting of some eighty members selected by the Common Council is delegated everything that concerns the pay, allowances, and financial business of the force; whilst all questions touching the discipline and disposal of the men under his command are referred to the Commissioner, who is thus supreme in his own department.

One of the clauses in Peel's Act had disfranchised the new police by denying to constables the right to vote for the election of a Member of Parliament for the district comprised in the metropolitan police area: with the growth of other forces this disability was correspondingly extended, and all over the country policemen were debarred from taking their part in parliamentary elections. For the moment the prohibition was in all probability a wise one; elections were then very turbulent affairs, public opinion was already aflame with excitement over the impending parliamentary reforms, and men could only speculate upon the future behaviour of the as-yet-untried constabulary. Even if it had been possible to guarantee that the police would maintain a perfectly correct attitude, prudence would still have counselled the advisability of dissociating the guardians of the peace from the factious interests of electioneering. The public were so suspicious, and Peel's scheme had so many opponents, that in every political contest the losers would to a certainty have attributed the result to the sinister influence of the bogey-man in blue. When, however, both popular prejudice and popular excitement had subsided, there was no longer sufficient cause for the disfranchisement of a numerous and important class of public servants who had proved themselves worthy of all trust; but the original prohibition still held good, to the great disadvantage of the police service. This continued for nearly half a century, that is until 1887, when the "Police Disabilities Removal Act" of that year for the first time gave the parliamentary suffrage to all properly qualified police officers who comply with certain regulations made for the joint convenience of police and public.[269] Six years later constables became entitled to vote, if qualified, at School Board, Municipal and other elections; but in no case are they allowed to canvass, any attempt to influence an elector rendering the offender liable to a penalty of £10.