From the time when Rural Constabulary forces were instituted in 1839, until the date of the creation of County Councils fifty years later, the police authority throughout rural England had been the County Justices of the Peace in Quarter Sessions, to which body alone, in the several counties, was each Chief-Constable answerable, provided that he conformed to the general regulations laid down by the Secretary of State. During this period various changes, in addition to those of a more important nature already mentioned, were brought about, having for their object the better management of the police, or the more convenient administration of justice. In 1846 County Courts for the hearing of civil suits involving minor issues were established in the different shires; and, by the gradual enlargement of the jurisdiction exercised by these tribunals, the higher courts have, to a corresponding extent, been relieved of much petty business to the advantage of larger interests. In 1869 the office of High-Constable was formally abolished, any powers that he had anciently exercised having long since dwindled almost to the vanishing point. At first the Treasury contribution towards the expenses of the rural police had been strictly limited and quite inadequate in amount; but in 1875 the old limitation was suspended, first for one year, then for another, and finally indefinitely, until it became the rule for the public Treasury to provide half the cost for pay and clothing of all provincial police forces that, at the end of each year, are returned as efficient by the Home Office on the recommendation of the Government Inspector of Constabulary.

Following upon the Municipal Corporations Act of 1835,[263] some fifty Acts of Parliament, relating wholly or in part to municipal government, received the royal assent, and this at the rate of more than one a year; in August 1882 the mass of legislative amendments that resulted was consolidated and reduced to one Statute.[264] Amongst other police enactments, the formation of a separate constabulary, distinct from the county force, in any borough containing less than twenty thousand inhabitants, was hereby prohibited; but the control of local police forces already established was for the present confirmed to the existing Watch Committees, whatever might be the population of the borough concerned, and at the same time authority to enforce certain sanitary laws (e.g. The Public Health Acts of 1873 and 1875) was conferred on the Town Councils.

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.

The wisdom of enfranchising the police has been amply proved by the result, for on no occasion since their admission to the suffrage has it been as much as suggested that they make an improper use of the privilege. Although English police of the twentieth century is a very different thing from Anglo-Saxon police of the tenth century, there is a potent characteristic which is common to both; that is to say, the modern system rests, as the ancient one did, on the sure foundation of mutual reliance. We may rely upon it that the law-abiding character of the British nation is largely due to the rarity with which espionage as a method of control has been employed in these islands, just as the trustworthiness of our English Constabularies is largely the outcome of the confidence that we repose in the wisdom and integrity of our peace-officers. We are well served by our police because we have wisely made them personally responsible for their actions. The constable suffers equally with the non-official citizen for any illegal action he may commit; the law protects him only in the performance of acts authorized by the law; nor can he divest himself of responsibility by pleading the orders of his superior officer, if those orders should chance to be illegal. This personal responsibility is not only a curb to excessive zeal, it is also a spur to legitimate activity. "When," says Sir Arthur Helps, "a man can do anything well, and is entrusted to do it, he has generally an impulse to action which is as strong and abiding as can be found amongst human motives, and which will even surpass the love of gain."

To teach the value of self-reliance is one of the most important duties that a Chief-Constable has to perform, and the efficiency of the force under his command will largely depend upon the manner in which he has imbued individual constables with the lesson. To this end the military model of organization and discipline must not be too closely followed; soldiers generally act in masses and but rarely on their own responsibility, whilst policemen do nine-tenths of their work as individuals. The main object of discipline in the army is to make a man obey orders from force of habit on occasions when his natural instinct would impel him to think only of his personal safety, advantage, or honour; the principal end to be attained in the education of the constable is that he should know his duty, and do it with circumspection and self-control, generally on his own initiative and frequently in opposition to the sympathies of the crowd.

Police discipline has been described by Sir Howard Vincent as "the obedience and respect to lawful authority which distinguishes an organized body from a rabble"[270] and Sir Henry Hawkins (Lord Brampton) has insisted upon the necessity of absolute obedience being rendered by constables to all in authority over them, "Such obedience and observance," he said, "I regard as essential to the existence of a police force."[271] All who have had any experience of dealing with large bodies of men will endorse every word of these pronouncements. First obey orders and, if necessary, complain afterwards, is a rule upon the application of which depends the life and well-being of every properly-disciplined body; at the same time it should not be forgotten that the too-strict enforcement of a rigid type of discipline neither conduces to the value of a police force nor to the advantage of the public. Periodically since 1829 alarmists have repeated the formula that "the era of dragooning has dawned"; on every occasion hitherto the cry has proved as groundless as that of the proverbial shepherd-boy, but, in order to make quite sure that the fable shall for us have no actual counterpart, it is politic to remember that a watchdog which is not kept under proper control may become as dangerous as any wolf. In Continental Europe this danger has not, as we think, been sufficiently guarded against: the police functionary is there entrusted with powers that render him to some extent independent of the ordinary law of the land, for he cannot be prosecuted for malfeasance unless special permission has first been obtained from the Government, and this permission is only granted under very exceptional circumstances.

Occasion has already been taken to remark that the freedom enjoyed by the Press of this country is an invaluable safeguard against police tyranny, that the public Press in fact polices the constabulary. This, however, is only one of the many police functions that modern journalism performs. When a serious crime is committed the newspapers raise a Hue and Cry so far-reaching and persistent that soon every tavern discusses the news, every village harbours a potential detective. Whenever a criminal is caught and convicted the deterrent value of the punishment served out to him is increased a thousand-fold by the publicity given by the Press to the award of the judge. In former days capital punishment was publicly inflicted with the mistaken idea that in this way was the maximum deterrent effect of the death penalty assured[272]; now, not only is what was a brutalizing spectacle decently veiled from the public gaze, but in place of the depraved thousands who formerly used to witness the "turning off" of each poor wretch, normal millions read, and it is to be hoped inwardly digest, the lesson that these tragedies are meant to convey. The Press also acts most effectually as a modern substitute for the pillory. The knowledge that an account of his offence will figure in the morning's police intelligence for all his friends to read, is far more likely to prevent a man (who lays claim to even a shred of respectability) from committing himself, than is any fine that the police magistrate might impose. Nor is the efficacy of the Press as an auxiliary agent of police confined to its success as a deterrent—newspapers advertise the bankrupt's loss of credit, expose the tricks of the swindler, ruin the trade of the impostor, and chastise many an offender whom the law cannot reach. Finally, a free Press, being a guarantee for public liberty, acts as a seton for the escape of evil humours which, if confined, might become a source of danger to the Commonwealth; for as Bentham has said, "a people sure of its rights, enjoys them with moderation and tranquillity."[273]

In his introduction to the "Criminal Statistics for 1898," recently published by the Home Office, Mr C. E. Troup, of that Department, says that the general conclusions to be drawn from a study of the comparative tables which form part of the statistical returns, may be summed up as follows—"That the actual number of crimes brought into the courts has diminished appreciably during the last thirty years; that, if the increase of population is taken into account, the decrease in crime becomes very marked; that, if we also take into account the increase of the police forces and the greater efficiency in the means of investigating and punishing crime, we may conclude that the decrease in crime is even greater than the figures shew; and finally, if we take into account the fact that habitual criminals are now for the most part imprisoned only for short periods and have much more frequent opportunities than formerly of committing offences, we must hold that the number of criminals has diminished in an even greater ratio than the number of crimes."[274]

It is of course impossible to estimate with any degree of accuracy to what extent this diminution of crime and this increased security of recent years are due to the exertions of our modern constabularies; enough has been said to make it abundantly clear that the amelioration is real, and that it is progressive in its tendency, but the difficulty is to apportion the credit justly between the various agencies that have contributed to the result. There is no doubt that the spread of education and the labours of religious and philanthropic bodies have done much to civilise the masses; it is certain also that an improved prison system and a reformed penal code have reacted beneficially on the criminal classes; but if we believe in the teachings of history we shall put our trust in no combination of influences directed towards the maintenance of the peace that does not at least include a good preventive police-force. If Lombroso's theories are correct, even if some men are born criminal beyond all hope of human redemption, these are only reasons for redoubling our police precautions: the delinquent who is a delinquent from his cradle is the more dangerous on that account, and to the congenital criminal must be denied the opportunity for mischief. But such freaks are rare and the normal criminal is anything but a creature of impulse; his calculations may not be shrewd but they are undoubtedly deliberate. "Abandon fait larron!" When poverty or the want of life's necessaries lead to theft, or where native cruelty and love of bloodshed give rise to deeds of violence, police, however efficient, can effect but little in the way of prevention; but it is the almost unanimous opinion of those best qualified to judge that the bulk of the offences committed in this country are perpetrated by those who enter upon a criminal career because it appears to them that it is easy and profitable, and because they think that it will enable them to obtain luxuries that lie beyond the reach of their industrious and honest companions. It is obvious, therefore, that an effective police, by making the profession of dishonesty difficult and precarious, can remove the principal incentive that makes men criminal.

The circle of police employment is constantly widening, and many of the functions delegated to the Constabulary by Parliament and by local authorities have not been so much as touched upon in this book, which, in a small compass, has endeavoured to trace the main features of police development in England through a great number of years. It is to be hoped, however, that the tendency to load police officers with duties heavier and more diverse than they have to perform already will not go on increasing. It is difficult to fix the precise limits within which it is proper that they should act; but it is certain that by indefinitely multiplying their duties we run a twofold risk, viz., that of rendering the work of police constables so complex and varied that men of average talent and education will be unable to perform it thoroughly, and further of undermining the popularity of the force by exhibiting its members before the eyes of the people as universally interfering and censorious. It is, of course, right and proper that the policeman should endeavour to prevent the commission of any act that he knows to be illegal, at all times and in all places; but it is generally advisable to employ functionaries who do not belong to the police for purposes not closely connected with the maintenance of the peace, whenever the employment of outsiders is equally effectual: it is more convenient, for instance, that game-keepers should protect the rights of owners on sporting estates, and that custom-house officials should examine portmanteaux, than that such duties should be performed by constables. His Majesty's Coastguard, the Inspectors of Mines and Factories, and other persons appointed by Societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, and for the suppression of mendicity, etc., relieve the police of much work by carrying out the various parts assigned to them by Government or by private enterprise; it is worth considering whether it would not be more profitable to delegate to functionaries, other than constables; all duties connected with the inspection of weights and measures, the enforcement of sanitary laws, the protection of arsenals and dockyards, and with the maintenance of order on racecourses. A force specially devoted to the last mentioned object is desirable on many grounds. In the first place the knowledge that such a body would possess of the welshers, cardsharpers, and pickpockets who travel about from one race-meeting to another, and with whom the different local police forces are unable to cope, would put an end to a great deal of the crime which is at present unchecked and undetected; and in the second place, it would no longer be necessary to withdraw large bodies of police from their proper duties for the protection of race-goers. On the occasion of the riot at Featherstone in 1893, the calling out of the Military, and the loss of life which followed, was largely attributable to the concentration at Doncaster of all the available Yorkshire constables, an unfortunate arrangement which bared the rest of the county of its regular protectors, and encouraged the rioters to proceed to lengths they would not otherwise have attempted.

Although it will hardly be denied that our police discharge their office conscientiously, courteously and courageously, the general public has shewn itself somewhat slow to acknowledge the debt which it owes to the men who undertake what is by common consent a thankless task; who armed with no extraordinary powers, and protected by no elaborate exemptions, perform arduous duties on behalf of their fellow-countrymen, for little reward, and at considerable personal risk. Perhaps it may not be presumptuous to hope that the foregoing pages, by adding their quota to the scanty sources of information on the subject, may cause a corresponding increase in the tribute of public goodwill, that has been so well earned, and so long awaited, by the police forces of England.

THE END