Worn out and prematurely old In 1856, the City of London Police surgeon reported that policemen were being ‘worn out by the job, suffering premature aging, defective physical strength, and other bodily infirmities’. see below History TB, cholera and mindless violence: a day in the life of an 1800s bobby Constables had to walk 20 miles a night, seven days a week. A constable might have to attend court after being on the beat all night, lose sleep and have to patrol the following night.” Got a story to tell? If you have a tale about East End history, write to John Rennie or email him at johnrennie@gmail.com www.eastlondonhistory.com BY JOHN RENNIE RECENTLY cancelled BBC drama Ripper Street painted a hugely entertaining (though historically questionable) picture of policing the East End during the 19th century. But what about the real men tasked with the job of maintaining peace and order in what was variously described as ‘the abyss’, ‘the netherworld’ and the area containing ‘the worst street in London’ in the mid 1800s? A trawl through the census records of 1851 reveal a fascinating picture of the men who signed up for what was surely one of the worst jobs in London – the documents of Whitechapel’s H Division giving a glimpse into the lives of the East End’s first regular coppers. In an age of often grinding poverty, and with no social safety net to catch those who lost their job or could not work due to illness, infirmity or age, the big advantage of being a Metropolitan policeman was security of employment and a regular income. That came at a price though – hours were long, pay was low and discipline was strict. This was no easy option. Constables had to walk 20 miles a night, in all weathers, seven days a week. A constable might have to attend court after being on the beat all night, lose his sleep and still have to patrol the following night as usual. Until the year 1900 there were no official break times allowed during a beat, and no hot meals. If a man became soaked and frozen at the beginning of a winter night, then he usually stayed that way until dawn. Nineteenth century London was a very unhealthy place in which to work. Open sewers and impure water led to cholera and many other diseases. Men had little resistance to chest diseases; tuberculosis killed more policemen than any number of thugs. Constant patrolling in heavy, unsuitable boots injured the feet and legs. A snapshot of cases at the Old Bailey during 1851 revealed the nature of the officers’ work. Though the language has changed, the misery and failure of most crimes that come to court has not. ‘Theft, stealing from master’; ‘theft, pickpocketing’; ‘violent theft, robbery’; ‘coining offences’ and ‘deception’ occur time and again. And there are the violent offences of disorder, often associated with the drunkenness that much of ‘respectable’ London considered central to East End life. ‘Breaking the peace’; ‘wounding’ or simply ‘drunkenness’. The constables themselves were always at risk, perhaps more so in those days. A case which came to trial on March 4, 1850 saw H Division constable Joseph Smalley recounting the dangers of conducting an arrest. Sometimes the angry mob might turn on the officer. ‘On 10th Feb., at 12.30 at night, I was in Rosemary Lane, and while talking to a person named Lynch, a person came behind me and struck me a violent blow between my eyes, and knocked me down and ran away. ‘There had been a disturbance between a man and woman, and I had got them away. There was a great crowd, which I was trying to get away. I could not tell who struck me, but a person ran after him and held him, and the prisoner is the person I secured. I was in the act of taking him to the station, assisted by Duffy; and one of the mob took Duffy’s staff away from him, and I was beaten with it, but I cannot tell by whom. I got three cuts in my head, and was rendered insensible.’ Where did these tough customers come from? Even more than in the East End of today, they came from elsewhere. The places of birth listed have the poetic ring of the English countryside – Tiverton in Devon, Odcombe in Somerset, Arundel in Sussex, and a host from Essex, Hertfordshire, Worcestershire, Surrey and more. There are numerous Irishmen, from Monaghan, Tralee, Sligo and Dublin. Even a Scotsman from Shetland. These men had travelled hundreds of miles in search of a new life in London, and their previous careers (also listed) give clues to their journey. Michael Duffy, 24, of Sligo, had been a labourer; Robert Crees from Cotton in Somerset, aged 29, had been a mason. James Eves, 22 from ‘Bethnal Green in Middlesex’, had been a baker. A scattering of local men pepper the ‘foreigners’... for perhaps it was harder to police your own manor, arrest your own schoolfriends and neighbours. And at the end of a hard police career? Not much reward. Before 1890, pensions were discretionary and were only ever given to coppers with at least 15 years on the force. You had to have reached 60 and be signed off by a doctor as being unfit for further service –not many men lived that long in 19th century London, and being unfit meant you probably wouldn’t live much longer (so no support for your widow). More likely you would die on the job, leave or be dismissed (ill-paid officers supplementing their wages by taking part in crime themselves or taking bungs from criminals was a constant problem). The discipline could be unforgiving. One William Lowe was forced to resign in May 1862 for being ‘inside a public house while on duty’. He had 12 years good service behind him. Two men were dismissed for being drunk in 1851. With the stresses of the job, who could blame them. Other reasons for dismissal were more colourful and very much of their time. What officer in 2014 would be sacked for ‘neglect of duty in not removing a costermonger barrow’? Though bribery was also involved.‘...receiving money from the man in charge of the barrow while on duty’ – the unfortunate Constable George Cox was dismissed just four days after Christmas 1863; he had served 17 years. In 1856, the City of London Police Surgeon reported that policemen were being ‘worn out by the job, suffering premature aging, defective physical strength, and other bodily infirmities’. It wasn’t just the physical exertion of course. ‘The mental strain of police work was great’ especially when an officer was alone at night, when ‘arresting armed burglars, assisting in the extinction of fires, rescuing the drowning, stopping runaway horses, or dealing with the drunken and disorderly and when facing hostile crowds.’ And Whitechapel was the hardest of the lot. In 1870, the Superintendent in charge of H Division reported that ‘assault on police was more frequent on this than any other division’. A remarkable 25 H Division men died in service between 1851 and 1861, though only two from non-natural causes. Samuel Hawes ‘died in a lunatic asylum from the effects of a head injury received on duty in Whitechapel’, while James Denyer died ‘after checking a suspicious light on a boat in London Docks... he fell in the water and drowned’. The deaths of the other 23 show just how unlikely you were to live to reach your pension in the East End of the day. Most died of consumption, dropsey, fever, typhus or cholera. Two from ‘bursting a blood vessel’ (probably stroke). But the most common way of leaving H Division is listed as ‘resigned’, most long before hitting 60. In truth, most were simply worn out. For more, go to http://www.historypieces. co.uk/Docs/Policemen_White chapel.pdf Wilkes, John, The London Police in the Nineteenth Century The life of an East End bobby was hard and violent 28 APRIL – 4 MAY 2014 N E W S F R O M T OWER HAMLETS COUNCIL AND YOUR COMMUNITY 13
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