Victorian Crimebeaters – the Birth of Law & Order
Published by Don Hale at Smashwords
Copyright January 2012 Don Hale
VICTORIAN CRIMEBEATERS –
the birth of law & order
By Don Hale OBE
This is a unique collection of true stories, crimes, watchmen reports, newspaper reports & cuttings and miscellaneous policing activities from the early 1800’s to 1910. It includes Royal visits, comparisons of community life in Victorian times, the development of the detectives’ office, Sherlock Holmes, music hall jibes at the police and authority. All the information has been taken from original family documents , personal diaries, police notebooks and everything has been authenticated by the Central Library and Greater Manchester Police Museum.
NEWS IN BRIEF: -
A Queen on the throne for more than 50 years.
British forces involved in many unpopular conflicts overseas.
Threats of terrorism on the city streets.
An influx of immigrants from revolutionary countries.
A Government facing a mid term crisis.
Public fear over going out at night.
Poverty, hardship, rising crime and public disorder.
No, this is not an extract from this week’s news headlines, but a list of problems and potential powder keg situations faced by police officers at the turn of the last century.
And it was quite possibly a similar brief discussed by my late great grandfather, James Wood, and other senior police colleagues sometime between 1897 and 1914, when he was involved in a number of high profile visiting assessments and public events, as one of Manchester’s first ever Royal protection officers.
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It seems quite incredible to think, that what originally started out as a simple glance through some dusty old papers belonging to James, has since become a quest to establish the facts behind his remarkable life and career in Queen Victoria’s Army of the Empire, and as the youngest Superintendent employed by Manchester City Police.
The majority of papers related to a time long forgotten but helped piece together a fascinating jigsaw about his Army life, early policing, survival and the true story about the development of English law and order.
It all began a few years ago, when my brother and I were sorting through a few boxes of family archive material. It was a mixed assortment of the usual odds and sods accumulated over many decades that no one really wanted to throw away.
There was also a lot of old junk that ended up in a skip, but then we found one or two nuggets in old shoeboxes that provided the seeds for a potential golden harvest of historical nostalgia.
Some papers and records dated back to 1826, and included an old Watchmen’s report book, Victorian police reports, old newspaper cuttings, photographs, and a host of other miscellaneous items relating to my grandmother, grandfather and great grandfather, all on my mother’s side.
It was like stepping back into the mists of time. The packages raised so many unanswered questions, and later, I kept wondering why so many issues had not been discussed before.
They were of little or no monetary value, yet their historical importance was priceless. My great grandfather served in the Manchester police force from 1890-1914 and joined after serving for over fourteen years with the King’s Own, Royal Lancaster Regiment - reaching the rank of Regimental Sergeant of Infantrymen.
As a police officer, he was a highly proficient detective and worked his way through all departments. During his career, he was also appointed the Government’s Explosive expert for Manchester, a supervisor and enforcer of street trading laws, dealt with the licensing of theatrical children, and the registration of servants and employers.
In addition, he played a key role as a social reformer and was part of a committee established to deal with the problems of feeding and clothing destitute children.
His claim to fame was undoubtedly, his role as a Royal bodyguard to the Prince and Princess of Wales at the turn of the century, and the planning and protection of other notable VIP’s during visits to the city.
For many years, he also ran the City Police Courts, and played a supervisory role at a host of major events relating to the birth of Manchester United and witnessed the dramatic arrival of the first aeroplane in 1910, during the exciting Daily Mail air race.
He had contacts with the Government and knew many of the personalities of the day including Lord Northcliffe and Prime Minister Arthur Balfour.
Unfortunately, James died at an early age, and yet, so many wanted to pay tribute to his work, that his slow funeral cortège practically brought the city to a standstill.
Some other older documents relate, as far as I can tell, to his own great grandfather, James Wood senior, who became a supervisor of the Night Watch, a pre-police organisation designed to protect people and properties in a time before trams, cars, electric street lighting, and the provision of adequate housing.
I can remember that for countless years, a proud portrait of James junior, dressed in a rather dark, dour and dismal military-style uniform, hung precariously from a picture rail, and dominated a small room at his daughter’s (my grandmother’s) house in North Drive, Cleveleys, near Blackpool.
It always reminded me of Lord Kitchener’s haunting face from the famous World War One recruitment poster, with his pointing finger, and those horrible little eyes that seemed to follow you around the room. As a child, it certainly seemed a bit scary at the time, and left a rather fearsome impression on my vulnerable young mind.
I always presumed it had been taken during James’s Army career, but nearly twenty years later, I discovered it really commemorated promotion to Superintendent of Manchester City Police, long before the outbreak of hostilities.
The large picture has vanished but I have since found several other smaller copies within his archive files, together with many other far more flattering photographs.
His name was hardly ever mentioned in Grandma’s house at the time, despite the fact his wife Letitia (my great grandmother) was still alive, and remained a feisty ninety-seven-year-old to the end!
Even more surprising, was the fact that more than half a century since James’s death, she still protected his possessions with a fierce and passionate determination, converting her front room into a near shrine to his memory.
I recall that room as always being dark, heavily scented, and draped in long flowing black fabrics. It was also packed with memorabilia from their life together, and from his extraordinary career.
Much to my dismay however, some of these items also disappeared, and I remain thankful, that at least a small selection of this precious archive collection has survived for careful scrutiny.
Letitia always seemed exactly as she was - like someone slightly out of place, from another time, another world!
She was always a very trim and petite lady, desperate to cling to her treasured memories. She constantly wore long dark clothes and a shawl or bonnet, and was wafer-thin with soft, delicate, wrinkled skin.
She seemed to move around the house as if on casters, and I can never recall her showing her legs, ankles or offering any hint of flesh! I was fortunate to gain the very occasional brief chat with her amidst the many competing and ticking clocks, dusty ornaments and clinking glassware. And yet, despite her rather abrupt manner, I couldn’t help but like her!
Letitia kept herself to herself and was always a very proud and very private person, who had been widowed for such an intolerable time. She only appeared in public on rare occasions, as if by prior appointment, and had most of her meals alone.
She had a very dry sense of humour though, and enjoyed twice-weekly sessions of ballroom dancing at a small friendship club down past the tram tracks; continuing her hobby until the last few years of her life, claiming she only stopped due to a lack of suitable company, rather than a lack of mobility.
Her husband James started as a boy soldier in Queen Victoria’s junior Army. He was just nine years of age when he first signed up to represent the Sovereign, initially joining the Cadets, and then her Army Reserve.
It was a glorious time for a dedicated soldier, and a time when most geographical maps of the world and school atlases were plastered in a deep red colour to signify the arrogance and absolute dominance of the great British Empire.
James was born in May 1868, within the run-down and poverty stricken Parish of Hulme in Manchester. He was the son of Job (pronounced Jobe) Wood, who was described in early census forms as a cellar man, and later a bottle dealer.
The records suggest that James was christened the following year in the City’s Cathedral, and that he had three sisters and a younger brother.
It seems, it was always James’s ambition to join the Army and he remained with his part-time colleagues until he reached the age of eighteen, and then signed-up on a full time basis.
His school report declared him to be a ‘bright young scholar,’ and he left at the age of fourteen to try his hand at a number of varied occupations. At one time, he was shown to be a joiner’s apprentice, and he may even have helped his father at some stage in the licensing trade.
Realistically though, he was only passing time and had only one true ambition, to join the Army as soon as possible, but had a staggering four years to wait!
When another more interesting temporary opportunity came about, he took it with both hands, joining the London & North Western Railway Company as a clerk at Victoria station in Manchester.
He remained in that post for a few years before finally signing on for the 1st Battalion of the Royal Lancaster Regiment as a promising young infantryman.
His Army records confirm he first attested for the services at Ashton-Under-Lyne on June 16th, 1885, when he was just eighteen years and one month old. James was five feet, six inches tall, and had grey coloured eyes and light hair. He signed for a period of seven years in the Army, and a further five years in the Reserves.
Immediately prior to joining the Army, his Regiment completed a tour of duty in the West Indies, and had representatives at convict settlements in New South Wales, Australia, and in India.
The Regiment also served in the Crimea and helped in the suppression of an Indian mutiny. They also provided generous support with an expedition to Abyssinia (now Ethiopia) in 1868, and also took part in the famous Zulu wars of 1879. Regimental battle honours were gained at Alma, Inkermann, Sevastopol, and in India.
His company were known as wanderers and four years before James joined, the Regiment were finally awarded a new permanent base at Bewerham Barracks, near Lancaster. Shortly afterwards, they sent members of the 2nd Battalion to South Africa, where they took part in the Relief of Ladysmith.
His Regiment became known as the ‘King’s Own’ and were one of the oldest units in the British Army. They were first raised in 1680 by the Earl of Plymouth, for service in Tangiers; and uniquely, the Regiment wore the ‘Lion of England’ on their cap badge.
Additional campaign honours highlighted meritorious service in the Napoleonic wars, Crimea and in Abyssinia; and the 4th Regiment of Foot, to which he was attached, were also employed in personal service to the Sovereign.
It is clear to see, that the opportunity to join such an illustrious company of men at that time must have felt like a dream come true for the young Mancunian.
Many records still exist within the Regimental Museum at Lancaster and displays, exhibits, and illustrations of various campaigns during their 250-year history can still be seen both there, and at the Chapel, which also retains four Coptic Crosses found within a heap of scrap for recycling into guns at an arsenal in Magdala.
Dating back to the 4th & 5th century, the Crosses carry engraved illustrations of Bible stories. One Cross is now displayed and occasionally used for processions within Westminster Abbey.
The Army records from that period however, remain extremely fuzzy, and disappointingly do not provide much detailed information about individual soldiers. Fortunately, James’s own records paint a true picture and remarkably his papers have been well preserved and highlight the important facts.
It seems James saw action in parts of South Africa, sometime between 1885-1890. And there is also a ‘Soldier’s New Testament’ for 1900/01, which infers he returned to South Africa, probably with the Army Reserves at some time during the Boer War. The conflict certainly raged prior to his final discharge.
Included within the paperwork is a small crème coloured record sheet providing details of his discharge on February 4th, 1900 - after more than five years of dedicated service to his country.
There is also a small blue coloured note advising him of a possible need in the future for the Army Reserve, and a stern warning of what would happen if he failed to attend, if requested!
Despite the fact these items are more than 100 years old, most are still in excellent condition with some details recorded on long lasting parchment paper.
They confirm Sergeant, No 1087, James Wood of the Royal Lancaster Regiment of Infantry was discharged from the Army – slightly ahead of schedule – in consequence of promotion to the rank of Sergeant in Manchester City Police.
His records claim he served five years and thirty-four days in the regular Army, and nine-years, two hundred days in the Reserves (and cadets). His total service was said to be fourteen-years and two hundred and thirty-four days. The Officer in Charge, 4th Regiment of Foot, signed him off.
James readily added his own signature to the papers, agreeing to return to service if needed, and confirmed his intention to serve with the Reserves.
Manchester City Police Force 1890.
Police archive records and details of former personnel, including James, are still retained at The Greater Manchester Police Museum on Newton Street.
They verify much of the information contained with his personal papers and note that ironically, this building was a former police station, opened in 1879, where he probably spent some time during his early career.
Thankfully, many of the original features have been retained. And visitors are still able to examine the charge office with its bizarrely shaped polished counter and see the wooden records cabinets and authentic furniture.
They can also see the heavily worn indentation in the counter where the desk Sergeant would lean to hear the circumstances of arrest and examine several old cells and facilities used throughout the Victorian era. There are also numerous displays and it is certainly worth a visit.
James Wood first joined Manchester City Police as a young Constable on October 30th, 1890. It was more than five years after he had first signed-up for the Army, and just under ten years before he eventually received his final discharge papers, following promotion to Sergeant.
He was an experienced soldier, and seemingly a very brave infantryman who had seen action overseas, and was said to be an excellent shot with a rifle.
He worked with a variety of weapons throughout his time in the Army and was used to handling both firearms and explosives. Prior to discharge, he was promoted to Sergeant of Infantry and was described in records as a ‘popular and reliable soldier.’
The City force were recruiting quite heavily during 1889/90 and particularly welcomed men with military experience, people used to handling weapons, and others able to deal with an assortment of potentially hostile situations. James matched all the relevant criteria.
The Manchester police records confirm that he had grown an inch and a half from first joining the Army at eighteen - and was now five feet, eight inches tall! Some later documents indicate that he continued to grow, this time reaching a final mark of five feet, nine and a half inches.
His complexion was described as fair, with light brown hair and acknowledged that he was a former clerk with the L & NWR Co, and an experienced Sergeant with the 1st Battalion of the Royal Lancaster Regiment.
A copy of details taken from his personnel records held at the police archives at Manchester City Police Museum on Newton Street: -
Name: James Wood. Rank & Number: Police Constable.
Joined: 30/10/1890.Height: 5ft 8inches. Complexion: Fair. Eyes: Brown.
Hair: Light brown. Born: Manchester, Lancashire. Religion: Catholic.
Trade. Clerk. Employer: London & North Western Railway Company.
Status: Single. PPS. 1st Battalion, Royal Lancaster Regiment. (Five years).
His initial police record card claims he was single at the time of entry into the police service, but James was actually married by then!
I have managed to obtain a copy of his marriage certificate, which confirms he had already wed his local sweetheart from Hulme, Miss Letitia Little. Perhaps he had been single at the time of the original application?
They were married on March 8th, 1890, at the Parish Church of St Michael’s in Hulme. The Rector was J.A. Pocklington MA. Young James was only twenty-one years of age, and Letitia nineteen.
As this was immediately prior to joining the Manchester police force, his occupation was stated on the certificate to be a Sergeant in the King’s Own.
Confirmation was also given relating to his father’s occupation as a cellar man, together with the details of Letitia’s father, William Little, who was a French polisher. Their future address was shown as 27 Dearden Street, Manchester.
Despite obvious hardships, this was certainly a time of great promise and opportunity for the young couple and allowed James to finally settle down after many years of military service.
It meant a new beginning and he soon decided to dedicate himself to a bright new career as a young policeman. Although he had no idea of what lay ahead, he continued to enjoy a short but extraordinary career that most officers could only dream about….
CHAPTER ONE.
THE BIRTH OF LAW & ORDER.
Before going into any great detail about policing in London, Manchester and other parts of England, and outlining some fascinating facts from old Watch reports, crime cases, and revealing highlights from James Wood’s extraordinary career; I think it is necessary to examine just how, why and when the birth of law & order first began, and to introduce some of the more radical legal reformers who have helped shape our legal system…
King Alfred the Great, who ruled Britain from AD 871-900, was said to be the first person to have devised a primitive code of common law. During this Anglo-Saxon period, it was known as ‘Folk Moot,’ and referred to ‘a place, village or district for decision and settlement of matters.’
‘Folk Moot’ however, has some other slightly varied meanings from these early beginnings and also suggests: ‘An outdoor meeting place.’ Additional translations, which have fluctuated down the centuries, also describe it as ‘relating to the enforcement of law common to the conquered people, rather than to impose the legal code of our own territory.’
Other ancient translations, highlighted within Webster’s dictionary of 1913, indicate that King Alfred’s Moot Law, or Folk Moot, meant ‘to assemble for conversation, to discuss, dispute, or to give opinion for or against, to consult and to debate.’
Whatever the precise interpretation, these early writings at least provide clear evidence that the King authorised and encouraged the creation of an assembly for meetings, debate and discussion, and set the seed for the development of law and order.
King Alfred - apart from gaining a rather unwarranted reputation for burning cakes - was also a mighty and highly respected warrior, who fought numerous battles to try and repel Viking invaders in particular, from overwhelming ancient Britain.
Many record books even claim he was ‘the greatest King ever to rule mankind.’
The youngest son of King Aethel Wulf, Alfred became the King of Wessex, and King of England, during a particularly bloody period of unrest.
His main enemy at that time was the brutal Dane, Guthorm, who eventually fought and lost a great battle to Alfred and his determined army at Eddington. It was here that the Danish raiders were finally beaten and repelled, yet they were still allowed to remain in parts of East Anglia and Mercia.
King Alfred instigated a unique peace treaty and partitioned this land, which later became known as ‘Dane Law.’
He was said to be a man of great wisdom and providence and helped revitalise religious and scholarly activities. To support his peaceful ambitions, and help protect his subjects, he also built a series of extensive fortifications and constructed a fleet of ships to support his land defences.
Alfred ruled by sound governance and had the remarkable ability to inspire men and plan for the future. He was deemed a codifier of law and his practical support for religious beliefs, education and innovation became legendary hallmarks of his long and relatively settled reign.
For his vision and shipbuilding skills, he gained the nickname of the ‘Father of the Navy,’ and was a notable scholar who helped translate many written works from Latin to the main language used by Anglo-Saxons.
He also appointed a Welsh monk, Asser, to assist with this essential work. Asser had been appointed Bishop of Sherbourne, and became the King’s personal advisor, and one of his most trusted companions.
Many of these translations date from around AD 888, and were taken from Boethuis’s Consolation of Philosophat. Again, there is a possible reference to early legal matters, with the introduction of a system of order and authority.
In one instance, the King claimed: ‘ The just man builds on a modest foundation and gradually proceeds to greater things,’ and explained that a just man was really a ‘man of sound judgment.’
In other relevant translations, allegedly made by the Monarch, he stated: -
‘Desire for and possession of earthly power never pleased me overmuch, and I did not unduly desire this earthly rule, but that nevertheless I wished for tools and resources for the task that I was commanded to accomplish, which was that I should virtuously and worthily guide and direct the authority which was entrusted to me.
‘You know of course that no one can make known any skill, nor direct and guide any authority, without tools and resources; a man cannot work on any enterprise without resources.
‘In the case of the King, the resources and tools with which to rule are that he have his land fully manned: he must have praying men, fighting men and working men. You also know that without these tools no King may make his ability known. Another aspect of his resources is that he must have the means of support for his tools, the three classes of men.
‘These, then are their means of support: land to live on, gifts, weapons, food, ale, clothing, and whatever else is necessary for each of the three classes of men. Without these things he cannot maintain the tools, nor without the tools can he accomplish any of the things he was commanded to do.
‘Accordingly, I sought the resources with which to exercise the authority, in order that my skills and power would not be forgotten and concealed: because every skill and every authority is soon obsolete and passed over, if it is without wisdom; because no man may bring to bear any skill without wisdom.
‘For whatever is done unthinkingly, cannot be reckoned a skill. To speak briefly: I desired to live worthily as long as I lived, and to leave after my life, to the men who should come after me, the memory of me in good works.’
In modern times, some of the claims made by Bishop Asser, that he was responsible for much of the transcribing of these Latin documents, rather than King Alfred, is still disputed by medieval and classical scholars. Some tend to believe that much of this work was actually completed at a later date – and possibly by an unknown hand.
JUSTICES OF THE PEACE.
The ‘Justices of the Peace’ title is claimed to be the first reference to law and order, and is highlighted within the Magna Carter at the time of King John in 1215.
An early listing of the word ‘Constable’ first appears in archive documents soon afterwards, when a ‘Comes Stabuli’ is recorded in 1252. This term was said to relate to a ‘master of a horse,’ and also meant ‘someone of authority and control within the community.’
In 1285, a new Law of Enforcement was formulated and adopted by the ‘Statute of Winchester.’ This was seen as perhaps the first legislation relating to a form of policing for nearly 600 years. Seventy-six years later, the Justice of the Peace Act came into force.
This Statute of Winchester formally introduced and defined the ‘Office of a Constable,’ and confirmed that he was to answer directly to the Justice of the Peace.
The Justices were early forms of Magistrates and could issue warrants to be carried out by Constables.’ They were deemed the ruling authority of each County, and generally appointed up to four officers to help keep order.
In Medieval times, the Office of a Constable appears within many ancient documents and confirms that large areas of the country were divided and ruled by wealthy landowners, Lord’s of the Manor, Nobles and Barons, who also presided over special Manor Court’s or Court Leets. This ensured a highly visible form of local justice.
Throughout the 16th century however, all males aged between 16-60, were expected to assist with ‘Keeping the King’s Peace,’ and could be held jointly responsible for any outbreak of crime, violence, riot or public order offences.
Then, it was also the duty of all citizens to ‘keep arms,’ which generally meant carrying a sword, staff, dagger, or other weapon, with men of the town forced to attend any ‘hue and cry.’
Any subject who failed to attend this call, could expect to find themselves in the dock, to stand trial with the accused.
EARLY WATCHMEN & SPECIAL CONSTABLES.
In 1673, and nearly 300 years after the introduction of the Justices of the Peace Act, King Charles II of England, decreed that ‘Special Constables’ should be sworn-in and given unique responsibilities for maintaining law and order.
The rank was a compulsory duty rather than a voluntary act and as before, it was certainly not a request to be taken lightly, or ignored. And anyone summoned to appear before a Magistrate to be sworn in, had to accept all the terms and conditions of service. A refusal, for whatever reason, could lead to a heavy fine, imprisonment or both!
This is a copy of the original Oath of Allegiance: -
‘You shall swear that you shall keep the peace of our Lord and King well, and lawfully according to your powers, and shall arrest all those who shall make any contest, riot, debate or affray, in breaking of the said peace, and shall bring them into the house or * Compter of one of the Sheriffs.’
A Compter was the name for an old lock-up. It was mainly used for those who were in debt and for civil prisoners.
‘And if you shall be withstood by strength of such misdoers, you shall raise upon them hue and cry, and shall follow them from street to street and from ward to ward, until they are arrested. And you shall search at all times when you shall be required by scavenger or * bedel, for the common nuisances of the ward, until they are arrested, and the faults you shall find, you shall present them unto the Mayor and to the offices of the said town…so God help you and the Saints.’
A Bedel was a cryer or messenger of a court, who cites men to appear and answer. There were also inferior officers of a Parish or Liberty, who bear this name.
Charles II also introduced ‘Night Watchmen,’ who could support the Constables and patrol the streets of London after dark to ensure law and order was maintained. It was the duty of the Constable to set the Night Watch and proved a welcome measure, later copied by many other major cities.
The King displayed a ruthless determination to protect his property and other key areas of wealth and prosperity within the city and in effect, created a team of private security guards.
From1663, these Night Watchmen were used frequently on many of London’s streets and soon gained the nickname of Charleys’ following their introduction by the Sovereign. Remarkably, it was a tag that remained with them for at least another two hundred years.
PARISH CONSTABLES & PARISH WATCHMEN.
Policing in many other parts of the country, and particularly in the more rural areas, was organised by the Parish Constable or Parish Watchman.
Initially, their ranks were formed by retired soldiers, and later by slightly disabled, wounded, elderly or needy men of the parish. In many cases, some of the watchmen were forced to attend to their duties, as they were considered ‘charity cases’ of the Parish. The agreement was that they undertook this type of work in exchange for food and shelter.
Some early London Watchmen resembled coachmen in appearance and wore three-cornered hats, long heavy grey-coats and capes. They also carried a pikestaff and an oil-filled bulls-eye type lantern so that they could see their way around the dark cobbled streets, and carried a wooden staff for self-protection.
In addition, they carried rattles, or ‘rick-racks,’ and a truncheon. In certain trouble spots, the worried watchman would often walk along tapping his staff hard on the cobbles to warn of his approach, hoping he would not be attacked.
The rattle was an instrument specifically designed to attract attention and summon assistance. In the main, they were fairly small and could be tucked into a watchman’s belt. They consisted of a short wooden handle, joined with a body formed by a taught spring and two revolving cogs that clattered against each other when held above the head and swung around. It made a very noisy, rattling, ‘rick-rack’ sound.
Night Watchmen were designated specific areas to patrol and many even had their own small watch boxes to shelter in from the winter weather. In later years, they resembled the ‘Dr Who’ type police boxes of today. At times though, the boxes became the target for attacks from vandals and aggrieved villains, with several destroyed by fire once the watchman had left to attend to his rounds.
Most watch boxes and rounds were situated in fairly close proximity to each other, and in case of need, the watchmen could ‘rick’ for assistance to alert their neighbours and colleagues.
This noise however, also tended to draw an enthusiastic crowd, anxious to see what was happening. The action sometimes resulted in other spectators joining in to make matters worse.
In the early part of the 18th century, a Parish Constable’s role improved and appointments were made on a temporary basis, sometimes just for twelve months.
Holders though were required to be of smart appearance and have a reasonable grasp of the law of the land, and the position could be made to men of wealth and influence. They were generally unpaid and involved long hours of duty and responsibility.
Some wealthy individuals paid to avoid this burden, as a year away from their business dealings could be devastating to their finances.
And if a Constable was not able to attend to his duties, for whatever reason, it was their role to appoint a deputy, although certain substitutes often proved highly unreliable.
The role of the Constable was noted in church records as being one of four important local officers appointed annually to deal with Parish matters. Others included: a surveyor of the highways; a churchwarden, and an overseer of the poor.
The precise position and title of the Parish Constable varied across the country, and at times nearly disappeared altogether from the ranks of importance, particularly during the latter part of that century. This impacted more within some of the larger cities, where other more prominent measures had to be taken to deal with the effects of the Industrial Revolution on communities.
In more rural areas however, the changes were less noticeable, and a Constable continued to remain an essential member of the Parish for decades.
On occasions, the Constable even had to detain a prisoner in their own homes, until a Magistrate was made available to hear the charge. When the official arrived, most cases were eventually heard in the local Inn.
Sentences naturally varied, dependent upon the crime, and convicted persons faced immediate retribution. The courts were also a great source of public entertainment and offenders could be quickly taken out into the street and flogged, birched, fined, or placed in the local stocks for public humiliation.
The more serious offences of murder led to hanging from the gallows at the town gaols, which again were open to public spectacle and generally drew large crowds.
These early Constables had no uniform, yet wore an armband, and carried a wooden truncheon, with some bearing a coat of arms, or colours of the Parish. The officers were not always the most popular men in the district and often faced both serious attack and abuse.
They were also open to bribery and corruption, with some reputed to turn an occasional blind eye to misdemeanours. Victims too, often had a very hard time in persuading either a Constable and/or Magistrate that an offence had been committed.
THIEF-TAKERS.
Many victims’ therefore had to rely on professional ‘Thief-Takers.’ They were hired heavy-duty assistants, many with ex-military backgrounds, who worked for cash rewards and were the equivalent of today’s bounty hunters. In many cases, this was often the only way to apprehend a known villain or violent criminal.
Thief-Takers too, faced similar temptations from corruption, with a greater prize sometimes offered to let the accused go. And these hunters also faced attacks from organised gangs, desperate to maintain the freedom of one of their members or another celebrated individual.
Extreme poverty and rapid changes to work requirements and housing caused by the industrial revolution, increased pressures on the Watchmen and Parish Constables, and soon the authorities demanded a more reliable and professional service.
The Night Watchman’s work though remained poorly paid. It usually meant patrolling slum dwellings and other poverty stricken areas. Their services were also demanded on market days, carnivals or at local festivals, when the threat of trouble by visiting rogues and pick pockets increased.
The hours included service from 9pm until 6am, and they were needed to patrol the streets throughout the hours of darkness.
The Watchmen were expected to walk their rounds at two and half miles per hour, and were not allowed to sit down on duty or lean on anything, and told to make minimal use of their watch boxes.
If a town was under threat from organised gangs, the Parish Constable could summon additional Special Constables, as volunteers; and once again, refusal to attend to a Constable’s request was an offence punishable by imprisonment.
In many major cities during the early to mid 1800’s in particular, there was tremendous fear, uncertainty and intense anger on city streets, particularly after dark, and just like the times of Charles II, wealthy businessmen again opted to hire their own watchmen to help protect both property and person.
Many of these men again came from military backgrounds and carried an assortment of weapons. Some even resembled pirates with a large cutlass and bright lantern. They had specific duties and were only responsible to their own paymaster - as distinct from the Parish Constable or Night Watchman, whose duty was to attend to situations of need, and to ‘Keep the King’s Peace.’
Life in many industrial towns was extremely harsh with poverty and disease rife. Slums provided the greatest source of crime and if mobs rioted, the authorities were able to call on the militia for support.
The militia also provided a welcome bonus to the cash-strapped responsibilities of the city governors, because if soldiers attended, they would be utilised at no cost to the local authority, as the Government funded them.
A Magistrate, or Government official, had to authorise the use of the militia and at times read the ‘Riot Act’ at public demonstrations, prior to instructing sabre-carrying guardsmen, who were called upon to quickly quell public violence and re-establish law and order.
PETERLOO MASSACRE.
Manchester was the scene of such bloody violence in August 1819, when a large group of people, estimated to be in excess of 50,000, gathered on St Peter’s Field – now St Peter’s Square – to attend a meeting to be addressed by famous orator Henry Hunt.
The meeting was called in connection with the passing in Parliament of a new corn law which prohibited the import of foreign corn until the price of home grown wheat was 80 shillings a quarter.
This Bill was introduced at a time of severe unrest, and extreme poverty, when taxes were already high and bread both expensive and practically impossible to find or buy.
It also followed the conclusion of the Napoleonic wars, when members of Parliament thought England should be encouraged to grow their own corn, so that if war returned, the country could be saved from starvation without reliance on foreign produce.
Although a most patriotic idea, starvation was already a problem in this time of peace for many Manchester families, who simply could not afford the price of corn, or much else. Many local merchants believed a free trade in corn was essential and set about trying to convince politicians.
Manchester folk in particular believed this hardship could not be removed until power was placed in their own hands, by a new and radical Reform Bill. The meeting was encouraged to support this opinion but at the last minute, Magistrates decided to ban the gathering, arrest the speaker, and any others who had helped organise the meeting.
Surveillance and control of the meeting was far too much for any Constable and his specials, therefore magistrates summoned a small force of Manchester Yeomanry, who were ordered to arrest Mr Hunt and break up the meeting.
It was claimed that sabres were immediately drawn and they charged the crowd without warning, slashing at anyone within reach. The soldiers soon became surrounded by a mass of people, and were only saved themselves by a supporting troupe of Hussars, who dashed to their rescue.
It was later claimed that magistrates read the Riot Act and had ordered the crowd to disperse, but this action still remains disputed to this day. When the ground was finally cleared, it was soaked blood red and littered with the bodies of the dead, dying and severely wounded.
Eleven people were killed during the disturbance and hundreds of people were severely injured – many of them young women. The crowd were unarmed and consequently unable to defend themselves. This tragic incident left an indelible mark on local justice for decades.
This public outrage was further vilified, when ironically, magistrates were praised for their actions in the name of Prince Regent for ‘keeping public peace.’ Authority further endorsed these unprovoked, unexpected and totally unnecessary actions, when the House of Commons refused to support any inquiry into the tragedy.
National newspapers nervously acknowledged the intensity of public feeling in a special report more than 12 years later, stating: ‘Intense indignity was felt throughout the country at the stupidity of the Magistrates and the tragic result of their ineptitude.
‘Moreover, the effect of “Peterloo,” as it was called in semi-derision, was very important, for although it caused the Government to adopt a repressive policy with regards to the holding of meetings, this only succeeded in uniting more firmly reformers of all classes, and was the beginning of the movement, which finally secured the passing of the Reform Bill in 1832.’
The result of this new Reform Bill was that Manchester finally gained two new members of Parliament to represent their interests, and although very few working men obtained any votes at this time, it soon reversed some political powers from landowners to manufacturers, merchants and farmers - and later reflected the opinion and desire of the working classes, but at what cost?
TRAFALGAR SQUARE RIOTING.
* London demonstrators too, faced serious problems in clashes with the militia, when some 68 years after Manchester’s devastating ‘Peterloo Massacre,’ the authorities failed to learn from the lessons of old.
During rioting in Queen Victoria’s troubled Jubilee Year of 1887, Lifeguards were allegedly turned out to quell a potential riot in Trafalgar Square, where thousands of unarmed and unemployed men - described as ‘an unruly mob’ - were attacked and speared with sharp swords and sabres.
It was a stark warning to others that Magistrates had been instructed to clamp down on public assemblies, and were determined to stamp-out similar unrest throughout the rest of the country.
This mob were alleged to have caused untold damage to ‘respectable’ property before they were finally subdued and forced back along the Mile End Road towards Poplar and Stepney.
Revolutionary problems in many overseas countries led to extraordinary social problems within Britain at that time and the country was threatened by a huge influx of immigrants from France, Germany, Austria and Russia.
The Commissioner for Police for the Metropolitan area, General Sir Charles Warren, demanded an immediate response to these allegedly ‘illegal’ demonstrations and persuaded the Home Secretary to authorise the use of the militia wherever needed.
CHAPTER TWO.
THE FIELDING BROTHERS & THE BOW STREET RUNNERS.
Henry Fielding and his blind half-brother John are credited with the formation and development of the country’s first effective police system in 1748.
Shortly after establishing himself as the Chief Magistrate for London and Middlesex, Henry became saddened and disillusioned with the state of English law and set about introducing a series of controversial and radical measures to help restore law and order in crime-ridden London.
These included forming the famous Bow Street Runners, an elite unit of between eight and twelve former Parish Constables, who were experienced thief takers, employed on a reward basis to catch and prosecute dangerous criminals.
Working directly under the Fieldings’ supervision, the Runners helped to break up some of London’s most notorious gangs, who had terrorised the city for decades, and then launched an ingenious scheme to deter highway robbers.
Henry controversially offered immunity and cash payments to persuade certain gang members to co-operate and turn themselves in, and then developed many revolutionary ideas for the investigation of crimes, and the identification, questioning and conviction of criminals.
In 1751, Henry wrote the first of a series of Criminological Treaties, which provided the Government and fellow law enforcers with a fascinating insight into the methods of countering crime, focusing on the criminal tendencies of the lower classes, and was highly critical of the existing justice system.
Some of the treaties included: -
An enquiry into the causes of the late increase of Robbers (1751).
Interposition of providence in the detection and punishment of murder (1752).
A proposal for making an effectual provision for the poor, for amending their morals, and for rendering them useful members of the society (1753).
Henry Fielding was a great self-publicist and made extensive use of ‘letters to the editor’ columns in both London based and national newspapers to make his views known, and placed a unique advertisement in the press to make the public aware of, and encourage their co-operation with crime prevention.
In effect, it was the early beginnings of Crimewatch!
PUBLIC PLEA TO HELP CATCH CRIMINALS.
Notice & Request to the public dated 1749: -
‘All persons who shall for the future suffer by robbers, burglars etc., are desired immediately to bring or send the best description they can of such robbers etc., with the time, place and circumstances of the fact to Henry Fielding Esq, at his house in Bow Street.’
The Fielding brothers were highly critical of Parish Constables and particularly of Watchmen. Henry claimed their powers were limited and ineffective. He said Constables were too busy with other duties, including tax collecting and the transfer of offenders back and forth to gaol.
He explained that early Constables and Night Watchmen wore no uniforms and said Charleys,’ were only too willing to remain in their boxes at the first sign of trouble.
In defence of both sets of officers however, he duly acknowledged that neither were really responsible for the investigation or detection of crime, and said poor pay and poor conditions were responsible for a lack of interest.
Henry claimed Constables were ‘disorganised and inefficient,’ and said criminals always had the upper hand, and were much younger, stronger and better armed.
He pledged he would quickly implement his own effective system to combat crime and the Bow Street Runners soon patrolled the streets of London with great success.
Fielding’s controversial plan worked, and included the use of this small but highly effective mobile unit of experienced men, who monitored the movements and behaviour of criminals - often following them to other parts of the country.
His personal writings about the success of his Runners attracted extraordinary publicity, and he was soon able to persuade many of his influential friends to convince Government colleagues to provide a salary - whereby he became the country’s first paid Magistrate.
His unique thief takers also became the first detective force and were known as ‘Robin Redbreasts’ for wearing distinctive scarlet waistcoats. At first, they too worked as volunteers, collecting a fee for successful arrests and prosecutions.
Later however, Fielding also secured a salary for them, of just a guinea a week plus generous reward bonuses. The Bow Street Runners became a much-feared and highly respected team.
They could issue writs, investigate crimes, and encouraged the public to provide as much information as possible. They regularly travelled nationwide in pursuit of villains and soon gained an enviable reputation for honesty, integrity and efficiency.
Their work earned plaudits from Government and public alike and Fielding began to publish the results of their findings and requirements in his own newspaper, the ‘Hue & Cry,’ which was widely distributed within legal circles.
Henry Fielding had been a former novelist and writer of stage plays and comical farces before entering the legal profession, and utilised his past publishing skills and illustrations to great benefit, helping to track down and catch many offenders.
Fielding saw publicity as an essential tool in the achievement of his aims and gradually reports of successful convictions began to appear in varied newspapers.
The following newspaper snippet is an early example of his efforts taken from the first year he started on the Bench: -
The St James Evening Post. December 8th, 1748.
‘Yesterday, John Salter was committed to the Gate House by Henry Fielding Esq, of Bow St, Covent Garden for feloniously taking out of the bureau in the house of the Rev Dalton, a quantity of money found upon him.’
Henry Fielding was born into an aristocratic family on April 22nd, 1707, at Sharpham Park, near Glastonbury. His father was General Edmund Fielding, who served with Marlborough. His mother was Sarah Gould, daughter of a judge of the King’s Bench.
Henry was the eldest of seven children and the grandson of the Canon of Salisbury and fifth son of the Earl of Desmond. It was said he could even trace his ancestry back to the House of Hapsburg, who came to England during the reign of Henry II.
His mother died when he was just twelve years old and his father quickly remarried to an Italian woman. From then on, it seems Henry spent much of his childhood in care with his grandmother at East Stour in Dorset, where he received private tuition, some from a local Parson.
It is claimed that Henry became a ‘wild and wilful’ child, who was allegedly bullied and teased about coming from a broken home. This may have had a dramatic effect on his life because a few years later, it was said he became a drunkard and a womaniser.
He attended Eton but left to study law at Leyden University in Holland, following a rather scandalous public affair with a young heiress.
After two years abroad, Henry returned to England and was forced to make his own way in the world after realising his father’s similar extravagance with money severely restricted his personal allowances.
He loved the law, journalism and compiling prose and decided to use his talents to try and make a living as a professional writer. In 1728 at the age of twenty-one, he published his first satirical poem, ‘The Masquerade,’ and began to develop a series of plays and farces for the London stage.
Many of his scripts were performed at the Haymarket Theatre, Covent Garden, Lincoln’s Inn and Drury Lane. In total, he wrote about twenty-five plays and published many novels to great acclaim.
He also wrote for many politically motivated newspapers and magazines of the time and produced some satirical pamphlets and leaflets.
In 1736, Henry began his own theatre production company but the following year, he found himself redundant when the Government suddenly implemented a ‘Stage Licensing Act,’ which immediately hit many non-patented theatres - even preventing rehearsals of plays, without the prior permission of the Lord Chamberlain.
Desperate to find an alternative way of making a living, he turned back to law and in November 1737, attended the Middle Temple, where three years later, he finally qualified as a lawyer. He later became a circuit judge on the Western Circuit.
Whilst studying law, and still extremely short of funds, he continued his journalistic activities on a part-time basis, and for a limited period, formed and edited a radical magazine called ‘The Chapter.’
It is also claimed that his first novel Joseph Andrews, which was published about the same time, actually saved him from debtor’s prison, when he received a much welcomed advance of £200.
Controversy and ill health however, was never far from Henry’s troubled life, and in 1743, he lost his wife Charlotte, then rapidly married her maid and nanny, Mary MacDaniel, who was already several months pregnant with his son William.
He made numerous satirical attacks on the Government of the day and particularly on Prime Minister Walpole; and when the politician was finally deposed from office, the new Government rewarded Fielding’s efforts with a prominent position as Justice of the Peace for Westminster in 1748.
The following year, he took responsibility for the County of Middlesex, presiding over court at Bow Street.
Shortly before Christmas 1749, Henry moved into a very large and luxurious old house in Bow Street, close to Covent Garden Opera House. The nature of his work and location of his new property were to have a profound effect on his life.
Sandwiched between two very run-down and depressive slum areas at St Giles and the Drury district, he daily witnessed their everyday existence in an area where more than 30,000 inhabitants lived in cramped, unhealthy conditions.
This was also the period of the Jacobite uprising and the early beginnings of the Industrial Revolution, when many of the country’s major cities were becoming overwhelmed with immigrants seeking food, work and accommodation.
Poverty, crime and unemployment were rife and until this date, little had changed in law and order since the Middle Ages, with the majority of felons only apprehended, if lucky, or at all, by persons attending a ‘hue and cry.’
Henry soon became a very active Magistrate and was already a well-known personality due to the success of his literary works. At about this same time, he also published another literary masterpiece, Tom Jones, followed by Amelia in 1751.
Henry’s initial appointment was due to a connection with his patron, the Duke of Bedford, who became Secretary of State. Shortly after Henry took office, the new Government hailed him as a potential saviour of legal reform and immediately requested he submit a report, with urgent plans to help reduce crime and violence.
Fielding studied many patterns of crime, and was anxious to seek the opinions of his Bow Street Runners before submitting his final results. Most had worked as former Parish Constables and Watchmen, and his fascinating theories were later presented and debated by Parliament.
Thoroughly opposed to public hangings, Henry also campaigned against corruption and turned his house into a form of police station, converted the lower area into a working courtroom.